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#it takes a Galaxy collab
strawberrystepmom · 1 year
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THE BALLAD OF LOVE AND HATE - PART I
jedi padawan!geto suguru x princess!f reader. part of the jjk star wars au. wc 2.1k. divider thanks to @/saradika!
PT. II
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The one thing they never taught you during your lessons growing up is how dull the life of a Princess can become. 
You attend meetings alongside your father, all glistening teeth and foamy gowns hoping to woo the senators into standing by your side should conflict ever occur. They don’t include you in their conversations but you always sit on the fringes of where they do, eyes averted elsewhere hoping they won’t catch on. It has always suited you to remember that not all delegates from their respective planets view women in politics as kindly as your father does, demurring away from questions about your future posed by those who may find it distasteful for you to admit your ambitions to become senator someday. 
So you sit. Elbow resting on the table in front of you, the smooth cool marble grounding to your wandering mind, chin in your palm. Boredom begins to creep into the edges of your mind as you swing your feet beneath the table but you turn upon hearing your name from behind.
Approaching, your father. In tow? The most handsome man you’ve ever seen draped in gray robes.
Dark hair tied back in a tidy half bun off of his face is the first thing you notice, shining like an onyx figurine that sits on your dresser, a gift from the home planet of one of your closest allies. His eyes are sharp, astute, and his nose is elegant in a way you aren’t sure you’ve seen before. Your breath sticks in your throat and you try to make sense of your surroundings, adjusting your posture and smoothing down the skirt of your dress as you stand to greet them.
You wonder if he isn’t a figment of your imagination. A young man sprung into life thanks to the romantic fantasies you’re only allowed to entertain as you listen to your handmaidens speak of their dalliances after you’ve been tucked safely into your bed and left to dream. They kiss, they hug, they feel fingers across places on their body you can only imagine being touched in. 
You smile kindly but you seethe with jealousy beneath the surface upon hearing about these situations, dozing off beneath your soft covers with a scowl.
As someone would, you tend to dream of love. The kind that soothes the loneliness that comes with being perceived as unapproachable. People bow to you but never look you in the eye, a fact that makes you shrink in on yourself where you stand. Posture slumping, undoing the work you just put in to appear regal, you look less a princess and potential future senator and more the child recently turned woman that you are. 
“My dear,” your father’s disapproving voice drags you from the recesses of your mind and you are dropped cruelly back into a reality where a dark haired dream stands in front of you, padawan braid cascading down his shoulder. Your heart stops at the sight. It doesn’t matter how handsome you find him, that braid means one thing and one thing only.
Off limits, you remind yourself so many times in a second it becomes a swarm inside of your head. Off limits. Off limits. Off limits. 
Bowing, you put on your best smile and give the young Jedi your name. He smiles back, warmth emanating from the look and you wish you had never seen it. You wish he’d avert his gaze like everyone else does but amber eyes meet your own, locked in place.
“I’m Suguru Geto, it’s a pleasure to meet you, your highness.”
Nervously, you extend your hand in his direction and he takes it with a bow. Chivalrous as you’d expect a man of his station to be, it gives you chills when he stands back up to his full height, much taller than you are. Breath catches again but you keep the awareness of being watched by a room full of party goers prickling at your senses to keep yourself somewhat calm.
“The pleasure is mine,” you return kindly while dropping your hand back at your side when his fingers release their hold on it. The rest of the room falls away, your focus locked on him as you wonder how this could happen to you. 
“I’ll let the two of you speak.”
Suddenly, your nerves flare and you struggle to find the words to even appear diplomatic in his presence. 
It’s not that you haven’t been around young men before - dozens of them are your contemporaries and you socialize with them regularly - but you’ve never been around someone who has made you feel like this before. Sweat slicked palms with a dry mouth, thoughts racing and stomach turning. Before you can think about it too deeply, he offers relief by starting the conversation himself.
“Lively bunch tonight, isn’t it?”
You laugh, looking around the room to see the stoic faces of many grumpy old men all too pleased to sit around and complain while swilling the sweet wine made from berries your planet is known for. They’ll drink their fill, discuss their politics, and be gone in the morning. It has been the same all your life, since you were only knee high to your father and looking up at the faces of the delegates that now use canes to get around the grand banquet hall.
“Livelier now that you’re here.” Your remark is honest, noticing the guests casting their eyes in the direction of the two of you and muttering amongst themselves. “It’s rare we are visited by Jedi unless something bad is happening.”
He chuckles and you want to sigh at the sound. It’s velvety, deep. Rich like the cake you had on your recently celebrated birthday that welcomed you into adulthood and you wonder if it would be greedy of you to make him laugh more just to commit the sound to memory.
“Master Yaga was invited tonight and allowed me to accompany him. He said it would be good to get to know the people we work closest with.”
Smiling, you nod. You know Master Yaga very well, someone who has been your protector on more than one trip you’ve taken alongside your family or on your own outreach missions, and you cannot be happier for Suguru that he is being taught by a man you consider one of the best you’ve ever met. Kind without trying too hard, brave without seeming arrogant - he’s the perfect Master for the young man at your side and it fills your gut with butterflies to imagine him growing into a man similar to his mentor.
“He’s right. We tend to like you more if we have the chance to know you first,” you joke and he laughs again. Internally, you pat yourself on the back for entertaining him although you know it’s unbecoming and the delegates are certainly going to whisper.
The two of you have started to walk through the hall and toward the open balcony doors, taking small unhurried steps toward your destination to ensure that the conversation is not interrupted. You take a cursory glance around the crowd and spot Master Yaga standing in the opposite corner but he does not glance back, focused on the enthusiastic conversation between himself and the delegate from Coruscant. 
“Are you enjoying yourself?”
The young man considers your question for a moment before nodding, hands resting on either side of his belt with his thumbs hooked in the loops. He seems so casual and it makes you feel more anxious, eagerly darting your eyes around the room to look at anything but him.
“I am, the hosts have been gracious and wonderful.”
The hosts being yourself and your father, of course. Your cheeks heat at the compliment and you welcome the cool evening breeze over your warm face as the two of you finally cross the threshold between inside and out. Thinking back, you imagine all of the times prior you’ve stood on this very balcony and looked out over the city below you. You’re familiar with every corner and alley yet you feel as though you have never experienced any of it at all. 
Choosing to sit rather than stand, you settle on a stone bench and he follows suit, sitting beside you. The two of you do not touch but you still feel electric, being this close to a man you just met sending your head spinning. The silence isn’t awkward but you can tell he’s beginning to feel uncomfortable, perhaps being this close and alone with a young woman, so he speaks.
“It’s very late, Princess. I’m surprised they let you party into the dawn with the rest of them.”
Laughing, you shake your head and realize that you do feel a bit tired. You’ve been at this for hours, listening and waiting and watching and perhaps it is past your usual bedtime. Despite being an adult, your schedule remains structured in case you’re needed to tend to your regular duties and you’re surprised that your attendant has not come to find you yet to usher you away. 
You’re glad she hasn’t, looking to your left to admire Suguru’s profile. If she had you would have missed this, the way the stars shine behind him and the gentle dark of the night makes you feel as if everyone else has fully disappeared. 
“I suppose I’m a little worn,” you mumble. Head feeling heavier than it did just a minute ago, you blink slowly to try and encourage yourself to wake up, hoping you can will a cool breeze to blow once again and revive you but it doesn’t. You just feel comfortable and safe and before you know it, your eyes start to shut and you struggle to open them back up, your neck relaxing as your head leans to your left.
As you fall asleep, your cheek resting gently on his shoulder and your lips puffed out in a sweet pout, he looks over your face, he knows in his gut that it’s trouble. The two of you shouldn’t even be this close but he has a responsibility, given orders by your father to keep you out of trouble tonight and who is he to deny a sleepy princess a comfortable place to rest her head?
Looking down, his eyes dance over your face. You look like a delicate doll, something he knows is intentional to keep you non threatening, but your spirit shines so brightly it almost makes your eyes sparkle when they’re open. 
Off limits, Suguru’s thoughts echo your own and he looks away from you, lifting his face and searching the party for your guards and father to escort you home.
He feels it too, the gravitational pull, but this was not meant for the two of you and something like this is only bound to end in heartache for both of you.
Anxiously, he looks around and spots a worried looking young woman who appears to be a little younger than you approaching, rubbing her hands against the fabric of her skirt that looks identical to the one you’re wearing. You must be with her, he reasons quickly and he offers a smile in return.
“I think she had a little too much fun,” he jokes and the young woman laughs, reaching out to gently place her hand on your shoulder and shake you. Your lashes flutter open and you squint to get used to your surroundings, jumping slightly as you look up and see dark eyes staring back down at you. 
“Oh, I’m so sorry.”
He shakes his head, the same smile he has cast in your direction all night across his lips.
“Nothing to apologize for but promise me you’ll let her take you to bed.”
Giggling, feeling awkward and uncertain of what else to do, you nod in agreement. Your advisor reaches her hand out and helps you up and you fight the urge to whine at the loss of the warmth of Suguru’s body against your shoulder. He remains seated, frozen in place as he watches you rise, and you cast a glance over your shoulder as you’re hurried away. Your lashes flutter as you blink, still groggy, but you smile so warmly it’s all he can look at.
“I hope we see each other again soon, Suguru.”
He bows his head, clasping his hands together in his lap.
“I hope the same, Princess.”
Off limits, he reminds himself one final time as he watches you work your way back into the throng of people standing in the banquet room. Despite his kind words he hopes he does not see you again. 
If he does, he knows you’ll become the one thing a Jedi is not to have - an attachment.
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kedsandtubesocks · 1 year
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Jedi Master!Gojo x Mandalorian!Reader for the wonderful jjk star wars au collab, thank you my dear starlight @strawberrystepmom for crafting up this galaxy of a dream collab 🩶
:・゚✧:・.☽˚。・゚✧:・.: :・゚✧:・.☽˚。・゚✧:・.: :・゚✧:・.☽˚。・゚✧:・.:
The ancient Jedi texts and archives painted the mandalorians as brute callous monsters. Though the Jedi respect their skills as warriors and trained fighters, mandalorians were seen as the oldest enemy of his kind for a reason.
The Jedi prided themselves in elegant finesse and civility that sanctified them as the elite protectors of the galaxy. It’s why, in comparison, Mandalorians were seen as wild reckless horrifying fighters and why the Jedi looked down upon them.
It was all bantha shit to him though.
Satoru is so thankful he doesn’t care much about what dusty old weak past Jedi or even current his current Jedi comrades had to say.
You’re all the tangible proof Satoru needs to shove those histories and perceptions up the council’s ass.
You’re elegant in your own way. Clad in your people’s ancient armor, you walk with a grace knowing you wear it.
“It’s a sacred honor,” you once told him and he sees that sacred holiness residing in you.
The beskar forged by your people, by your ancestors, carves you into a warrior. But you are not a monster in beskar the text painted your kind to be.
“Must be sad, to not know someone or see their face.” Shoko had once mused with a quiet sadness over a comlink chat on evening.
“Nah… not really,” was the answer Satoru had told his oldest friend.
He’s heard your giggle through the moderated helmet you wear. He knows when you roll your eyes at him by the way your helmet tilts in annoyance. The way your voice fluctuates so easily, how brightly it can feel just hearing it, how fervent you sound when talking about something you care deeply about, Satoru sees you, knows you.
But he wishes to still see you in a way that is too dangerous even for him.
He vowed to forgo all attachments, the one true honor he tries living within the code. But it’s so hard when you’ve become like a magnet pulling him in.
His mind is infested by you.
Questions rage in his head like wild rancors. What is your most precious childhood memory? What haunts you most? Do you have a favorite creature? He takes you as a lover of loth cats.
He wants to know you, wants to keep your secrets and your unarmored soul safe within his grasp. It dangerously dances the line of possession, of wanting to possess and love you in a way that’s damning not just to him, but to you.
You and your loyal beautiful heart.
You and your shining honor gilded existence.
“Well,” he grins bright and so alive that the force pulsates through his chest with a rapid wildness. “Good morning to you, shiny!”
The planet of Geonosis is a wasteland, an actual stretch of deserted danger. Yet under the warm amber glow of the planet’s sun you gleam. You shine brighter than anything in this whole damn galaxy as you emerge from the ship.
Through your helmet he knows you’re scowling at him because the exhausted sigh leaving you holds a prickly annoyance.
“Let’s get this damn day over with, di’kut.” You huff out already so exhausted with him and he grins wide.
Your nickname for him is way less cuter than the one has for you. But, he adores it.
The term literally translates to ‘one who forgot to put their pants on.’ Colloquially it's slang for an idiot, a useless fool.
He sees it as your very own beskar slice reminding him of how human he is. Strongest Jedi or not, you’re unimpressed by him. You maybe see through him more than anyone else has.
“Aw, come on. Let’s start today off on a good foot, yeah verd’ika?”
He calls you little warrior, another cute nickname he adores using for you. Your shoulders stiffen and your fist clench. Satoru still loves that he can pull this reaction out of you even though you know he understands and even lightly speaks mando’a.
“Shut up.” You snap out swift and already storm off from him to head into the ghastly trek among the jagged mountains. Satoru follows you without hesitation.
Recently more than ever he thinks about why his kind and yours are fated enemies. Now Satoru believes he understands why mandalorians are seen as such a danger to the Jedi. You’re a pure beautiful beskar spear piercing through even his strongest barrier, launched right through his heart and leaving him raw. No one but you has ever done that.
Because even as the strongest Jedi Master, the savior of the Galaxy and consecration of the Jedi prophecy, he is weakened by you.
Now Satoru truly wonders if he will be strong enough to win against you - his strong little mandalorian warrior, the one who might truly be his downfall.
And he finds he’s not upset over that possibility at all.
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meguwumibear · 1 year
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One With the Force
I wanted to contribute a little something to @strawberrystepmom's it takes a galaxy collab star wars au. no pairing yet but written as a precursor to a more complicated force sensitive!megumi x reader dynamic i have in mind. ft jedi master!gojo. swf but minor description of injuries. not super lore heavy.
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By the time Megumi realizes he’s force sensitive, Toji’s dead and gone. The first few nights he doesn’t come home, Megumi figures he’d simply fucked off with a new woman or found some new space casino to hole himself up in for a while, but news of his passing eventually finds its way to him.
The force isn’t exactly hereditary. Megumi’s sensitivity wasn’t guaranteed. It ran in the Zen’in family, sure, but it had skipped his father for some reason or another. It’s been skipping a lot of the Zen’ins lately, much to the family head’s chagrin. There was no reason it shouldn’t skip Megumi too.
Most of his life Megumi thinks the only thing his father ever passed onto him was his massive debt and violent tendencies. Because, like his father, Megumi has a hard time turning down a fight. Nights when he can’t find one, he picks one. The bigger the opponent the better.
Street fights are illegal of course, but they’re a quick and easy way to make money. Credits aren’t easy to come by on his home planet. Neither is quality health care. He’s been fighting for scraps for years just to keep his poor sickly sister alive.
That’s how he finds himself in the ring again tonight. He’s up against some monstrous thing with pulsing tentacles and needle like claws. Odds and bets are against him but that’s just fine. His handler pays him to throw most fights anyway. Tonight is no exception.
Tonight though, he doesn’t even have to pretend he’s the weaker opponent. Not even a minute into the fight the creature has him pinned flat on his back. All the air in his body is expunged in a singular, guttural grunt.
That should be the end of the fight, but the beast on top of him doesn’t relent. A warm, slimy appendage wraps its way around his neck while a set of razor sharp claws rake their way down his torso, cleaving the flesh as if it were nothing but soft fruit. Thick, crimson blood pours from his chest, staining the dirty mat he’s pressed so helplessly against. Megumi tries to scream but doesn’t have the breath to do it so a low, quiet hissing sound escapes him instead.
As dark spots begin to pepper his vision, panic begins to churn in Megumi’s stomach. The fights aren’t supposed to be to the death, but they do occasionally end that way. There’s no rule prohibiting it and no referee is going to interfere. Not when the crowd gets so drunk and rancorous on the violence.
But then he feels…well he isn’t exactly sure what he feels. Something more. Something else. The creature on top of him is no longer just flesh and blood. There’s an energy pulsing through his veins, one Megumi can feel calling out to him.
When he reaches out for it, the unexpected happens. The monster moves. Fast and hard. Whatever Megumi’s tapped into has sent the creature tumbling out of the ring.
The crowd goes silent for a beat before it comes alive with even more vigor than before. Those who bet on him are cheering. Those who bet against him are accusing him of cheating. And someone, somewhere, is screaming about the force.
Only Megumi is too old to have his awakening now. Most people with force sensitivity are discovered in early childhood. Surely someone in the crowd came to his aid. Briefly, stupidly, he thinks maybe it’s his mother.
There’s a sudden surge as the crowd surrounds him. He’s protected only by the four flimsy cables that separate the raised platform from the horde. They groan loudly in protest as hot, sweating bodies swarm them like locusts. It isn’t long before the first of them snaps.
The first person to reach him is a lanky man with hair white as bone. He’s dressed in a simple, earth tone tunic. The garb is familiar to Megumi somehow. He knows it from somewhere. But like an itch he just can’t seem to scratch, he can’t place it.
Instincutually, Megumi raises two clenched fists, prepared for a fight, blood singing with adrenaline, but then the man places a large hand on Megumi’s head and suddenly the two of them are levitating several feet above the other disgruntled patrons.
Only when the pair are safely outside the warehouse does the stranger speak to him. Four simple words dripping with familiarity.
“It’s about time, squirt.”
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lackadaisycats · 8 months
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I hope you know that literally nobody is going to be able to live up to the standard you, V*v, and Glitch have set and your arrogance and exploitation of your fanbase and connections has screwed millions of creatives out of their dreams because Hollywood is a joke that isn't worth telling and wealthy e-celebs like yourself have claimed the indie scene all to yourselves and moved the goalposts into the stratosphere.
Nope. This isn't a zero sum game. There is not some limited, prescribed number of indie trophy slots that a few studios greedily filled up, blocking everyone else out. That is not how it works. Nothing any other creator is doing - short of personally sending hired goons to your doorstep or stealing your credit cards - is taking anything away from you or preventing your success. In fact if an indie creator can manage to demonstrate that they've got something viable going, it may help to map out a pathway for others.
I think I'm not going to bother trying to address whether or not cartoons in return for support from fans - an entirely voluntary exchange - constitutes exploitation. And I'm living in the Midwest driving a 2007 economy car with 200k+ miles on it, but let's just skip past the assumptions that I'm wealthy and connected too.
Instead, let's get to the weirdly myopic notion that the indie scene is held captive by three studios. Maybe YouTube algorithms or Twitter bubbles are somewhat to blame, but in actuality there are so, so many individual people, friend groups, and small production houses out there making independent animation, I cannot possibly name them all.
Here are some anyway:
Far-Fetched Worthikids Satina | Scumhouse Noodle and Bun Punch Punch Forever Ramshackle Noodle Papajoolia | Pipi Angel Hare | The East Patch Jonni Peppers Salad Fingers Monkey Wrench Studio Heartbreak Felix Colgrave JelloApocalypse Odd1sout (started indie, got picked up by Netflix) Allie Mehner JaidenAnimations Lumi and the Great Big Galaxy Cloudrise | The Worlds Divide Telepurte RubberRoss James Lee ENA Godspeed | Olan Rogers Ollie and Scoops Meat Canyon Port by the Sea Kekeflipnote Boxtown Kevin Temmer Weebl Joel Haver CircleToons Long Gone Gulch Atlas and the Stars Animist Skibidi Toilet A Fox in Space Alex Henderson Talon Toniko Pantoja Sr. Pelo Hullabaloo Kane Pixels (started indie, picked up by A24) Homestar Runner Fennah Gods' School Alan Becker Dungeon Flippers JazLyte Psychicpebbles (started indie, Smiling Friends picked up by AS) Piemations vewn Metal Family Dead Sound chluaid Jacknjellify Betsy Lee | No Evil My Pride Cranbersher GeoExe | Gwain Saga Horatio the Vampire Mech West Playground | Rodrigo Sousa The Brave Locomotive Finchwing (+ many other Warrior Cats animators) Quazies SamBakZa Kamikaze: Trial by Fire
By no means a full list. That's just YouTube, and mostly just English language stuff, and I didn't even get to the multitudes of Warrior Cats animation collabs.
The point is, the indie landscape is vast and populated by creators new and old, making all kinds of animated media from skits, to shows, to ARGs, to films. Audience sizes vary as much as the content, stylistic approaches, subject matter, and budgets do. There are no compliance standards, no gateways to entry, no goalposts. There's not even any preset definition of success except what you decide for yourself.
Anyway, instead of nurturing your resentments, consider making something. I assure you, it's a far more rewarding use of your time and energy, and pretty much no one can stop you. ------------- EDIT- Made some additions to the list based on comments. Thanks!
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vanteguccir · 3 months
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⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀❝ take calm, deep breaths, you'll be fine after that ❞
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⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀❆ - angst ✮ - smut ❀ - fluff
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⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀✦﹒﹒𝑶𝑵𝑬𝑺𝑯𝑶𝑻𝑺﹒◌﹒
── ୨୧ !⠀the right love for me | part 2 [ ❆❀ ]
where Elena and Matt grew up together, fell in love as kids but realized too late. Will there be any hope for them?
── ୨୧ !⠀sleepy [ ❀ ]
where Matt had a busy day and just wants to sleep in his lover arms.
── ୨୧ !⠀destructive home [ ❆❀ ]
where Matt helps Y/N get through an anxiety attack.
── ୨୧ !⠀fight for you [ ❀ ]
where Y/N gets into a fight because of Matt.
── ୨୧ !⠀sleeping inside her | part 2 [ ✮ ]
where Y/N wants to be impossibly close to Matt.
── ୨୧ !⠀heaven and back [ ✮ ]
where Matt eat Y/N's pussy in the backseat of his car.
── ୨୧ !⠀truth or eat [ ❀ ]
where Y/N participates in the TRUTH OR EAT video from behind the camera.
── ୨୧ !⠀grwm with boyfriend's clothes [ ❀ ]
where Y/N is a fashion influencer and makes a GRWM only with her boyfriend's, Matt, clothes.
── ୨୧ !⠀galaxy girl [ ❀ ]
where Matt has a crush on Y/N, an influencer extremely well-known in the USA, but when she goes to the Zach Sang Show, Matt discovers that she also has a crush on him. When the two meet at a party, how will Matt react?
── ୨୧ !⠀lovestruck boy [ ❀ ]
where Nick and Chris are trying to record wednesday's video, but Matt's lovestruck gaze keeps going to Y/N, distracting himself.
── ୨୧ !⠀daddy's favorite girl [ ❀ ]
where Matt realizes that his daughter, Eloise, has him tied up in her pinkie.
── ୨୧ !⠀medium girl [ ❀❆ ]
where Y/N is a medium and Matt's girlfriend. She is invited to participate in the collab between Sam & Colby and the Sturniolo Triplets but ends up being targeted by ghosts all night.
── ୨୧ !⠀saudade [ ❀ ]
where Y/N and Matt have a long-distance relationship. After months of not seeing each other, Y/N decides to surprise Matt in LA.
── ୨୧ !⠀there's someone inside my head [ ❆❀ ]
where Y/N is targeted by a certain ghost during the filming of the Sam and Colby ft. Sturniolo Triplets video.
── ୨୧ !⠀tiktok trends | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 [ ❀ ]
4 times that Y/N and Matt made a couple's trend on tiktok.
── ୨୧ !⠀profane [ ✮ ]
where during scenes, all the control Y/N has over her life and body is completely given away to Matt's big and perfect hands.
── ୨୧ !⠀let's trade shoes [ ❀ ]
where Y/N feels pain in her feet from wearing high heels for hours, and Matt gives her his sneakers to wear.
── ୨୧ !⠀disgusting food roulette [ ❆❀ ]
where Y/N participates in the Disgusting Food Roulette video and ends up having to take care of Matt.
── ୨୧ !⠀fainting spells [ ❆❀ ]
where Y/N has severe low blood pressure, but seems to forget about it when getting up too quickly, causing her to pass out, but her boyfriend, Matt, is there to help her come back.
── ୨୧ !⠀atelophobia [ ❀❆ ]
where Y/N has suffered with an eating disorder for years, but lately, - because of the some "fans" and social media - her insecurities have been taking her to a more than dangerous path, which she couldn't get out without help.
── ୨୧ !⠀opposite [ ❀ ]
where Y/N and Matt are polar opposites.
── ୨୧ !⠀kiss cam [ ❀ ]
where Y/N, the triplets and Justin are present at the Bruins game, and the Kiss Cam chooses Matt and Y/N to share a kiss.
── ୨୧ !⠀left alone | part 2 [ ❆❀✮ ]
where, after a difficult week, Matt takes out all his stress on Y/N, causing great damage to their relationship.
── ୨୧ !⠀8 minutes of cute moments [ ❀ ]
where a fan made an 8-minute video with a compilation of Matt and Y/N being in love.
── ୨୧ !⠀I like your face [ ❀ ]
where Y/N has had a crush on Matt for years but hid her feelings out of fear. She just didn't expect Matt to feel the same way about her.
── ୨୧ !⠀you're mine [ ❀ ]
where Y/N is a ray of sunshine, and Matt is her dose of grumpness.
── ୨୧ !⠀sick boy [ ❆❀ ]
where Matt wakes up with the flu, but Y/N is there to take care of him.
── ୨୧ !⠀long live [ ❆❀ ]
where the Cut The Camera Podcast comes to an end and Matt feels emotional about it, but Y/N is there to comfort him.
── ୨୧ !⠀petals of death | part 2 [ ❆❀ ]
the Hanahaki Disease is a rare illness where the patient throws up and coughs flower petals when they suffer from one-sided love. In order to fully recover from the disease, it's necessary that the one they're in love with fall in love with them too. Or to fall in love with somebody else.
── ୨୧ !⠀quality time [ ❀ ]
where Matt skips Tara Yummy's 1M party to have quality time with his girlfriend.
── ୨୧ !⠀matilda [ ❆❀ ]
where Y/N remembers her traumatic past, but Matt is there to support her and help her heal the wounds through a day on the beach and playing with toys while recording a video.
── ୨୧ !⠀lavender haze [ ❆❀ ]
where Y/N drowns amidst so much criticism and negative comments from the media regarding her relationship, but Matt is right by her side to bring her back to the surface and surround her in a lavender haze.
── ୨୧ !⠀speak now [ ❆❀ ]
where it's Y/N's wedding day, but Matt isn't the groom. During the ceremony, an act of impulse on the boy's part changes the fate of everything.
── ୨୧ !⠀coziness, love, and other things [ ❀ ]
where Y/N's cozy cottage becomes a refuge for Matt, but it's not just the house that encloses him, but who's inside; OR, where Matt and Y/N are in love, but afraid to confess. Until one day.
── ୨୧ !⠀a day to forget [ ❆❀ ]
where, in a day full of downs, Y/N faces a series of challenges at work that culminate in an anxiety attack in the car on the way home, but Matt is by her side to bring her back.
── ୨୧ !⠀love in the lunchbox [ ❀ ]
where it's part of Matt's routine to prepare breakfast and pack his girlfriend's lunchbox every day.
── ୨୧ !⠀4 times that she made him smile [ ❀❆ ]
where Y/N is the only person who can make Matt smile genuinely; OR 4 times that Y/N made Matt smile.
── ୨୧ !⠀you belong with me [ ❆❀ ]
where Y/N and Matt love each other, but don't seem to have the courage to declare themselves; OR, where Matt belongs to Y/N but can't seem to understand it.
── ୨୧ !⠀roslyn [ ❀ ]
where a storm is happening and Y/N is afraid of thunder, making her seek comfort in her best friend's brother arms, Matt.
── ୨୧ !⠀anxiety on tour [ ❆❀ ]
where Y/N is just another fan at one of the Let's Trip Tour shows, until it comes time for the Meet&Greet. Things get out of hand for Matt, and she ends up being the only one who manages to calm him down.
── ୨୧ !⠀you make loving fun [ ❀ ]
where the sun inside Matt fell in love with the moon inside Y/N; OR, 4 moments between sunshine Matt and grumpy Y/N.
── ୨୧ !⠀wisdom teeth chaos [ ❆❀ ]
where Y/N faces the terrifying experience of having four wisdom teeth removed. With her boyfriend, Matt, and his brothers by her side, Y/N goes through moments of anxiety, laughter, and confusion under the influence of anesthesia.
── ୨୧ !⠀hockey drama [ ❆❀ ]
where Y/N is a hockey player of the Boston High-school hockey team, and during one of her games, her temper is tested by her opponent while her boyfriend, Matt, is watching.
── ୨୧ !⠀traitor | part 2 [ ❆❀ ]
Y/N and Matt are in a complicated relationship, where Matt is still stuck in the past with his ex. In an angsty pathway, Y/N suffers when she realizes that Matt will never love her as she wants.
── ୨୧ ! not the one for you [ ❆❀ ]
In a seemingly perfect relationship, Y/N and Matt face a silent storm when Y/N, after appearing in a video on Matt's personal channel, is the target of cruel comments that leave her feeling inadequate. Unable to share her insecurities, Y/N distance herself from Matt, wallowing in self-criticism and painful comparisons, until he snaps.
── ୨୧ ! kiss me [ ❀ ]
where Y/N and Matt are just friends that act like they’re in a loving relationship.
── ୨୧ ! turning 21 [ ❆❀ ]
where Y/N plans a special 21st birthday dinner, but her friends don't show up, leaving her heartbroken. But Matt, while dining nearby, notices her and decides that making her company would be a good idea.
── ୨୧ ! a home for the holidays [ ❆❀ ]
where Y/N, estranged from her parents, hasn’t celebrated holidays with family in years. Until her boyfriend, Matt, invites her to spend Christmas with him and his family in Boston for the first time.
── ୨୧ ! soft launch | instagram [ ❀ ]
where Y/N and Matt have been in a stable relationship hidden from the media for months, until they were forced by it to do a soft launch.
── ୨୧ ! wedding dresses and perfect moments [ ❀ ]
where Y/N, a fashion influencer, records a video trying on wedding dresses, surprising her boyfriend, Matt.
── ୨୧ ! halloween [ ❀ ]
where it's Halloween, and Y/N and Matt go through the fall day together, enjoying their best couple activities.
── ୨୧ ! scars to your beautiful [ ❆❀✮ ]
when things between Matt and Y/N start to heat up for the first time, insecurities about her own stomach and stretch marks make it difficult for Y/N to move forward.
── ୨୧ ! eggs and pregnancy [ ❀ ]
where Matt uses his loss on the egg challenge as an excuse to reveal Y/N's pregnancy to his brothers.
── ୨୧ ! 9 months after [ ❀ ]
where Y/N's and Matt's babies are finally born after 9 long months of waiting; OR, where Matt is finally a dad.
── ୨୧ ! you obey me [ ✮ ]
where Matt denies Y/N's orgasm for too long until she snaps.
── ୨୧ ! only good boys deserve it [ ✮ ]
where Matt wasn't a very good boy, and now Y/N has to punish him.
── ୨୧ ! safeword [ ❆❀✮ ]
where Matt comes home angry after a stressful day and takes it out on Y/N, making her use her safeword.
── ୨୧ ! left hand [ ❀✮ ]
where Matt hurt his right wrist during a horse ride for a video, but who said that a wrist guard would hold him back from fucking Y/N with his fingers?
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All rights reserved © 2024 𝐕𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐆𝐔𝐂𝐂𝐈𝐑. Please do not copy, rewrite, or translate my works on any other platform.
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519 notes · View notes
nahoney22 · 9 months
Note
Hi, love! 💙
May I request a F!Reader x Thrawn? NSFW.
Jealous Thrawn , NSFW, tension with Director Orson Krennic~
Reader is an imperial intern in training & stationed to work under the Admiral for anything needed to make up community hours. Reader has had a good idea that Thrawn probably disliked them due to his distant & cold demeanor around reader & slight remarks. Reader is not too fond of the Chiss, finds them ‘rude’, but still obeys (loyal to the empire).
However Reader finds out that’s far from the truth when invited to an Imperial Ball, getting hit on by other superiors (Director Krennic, slight Rivalry between both men from Death Star vs Tie fighter Project), making Thrawn jealous & admit “someone like yourself can make a man like me lose control & do the most unimaginable of things, and suddenly my loyalty & devotion becomes all yours.”
A Warrior’s Needs***
Grand Admiral Thrawn X F!Reader
word count: 8.7k
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Sneaky peak at my collab with @raevulsix 🤍 ^
When invited to the Imperial Ball to act as a spy, your galaxy is turned upside down when you witnessed your Boss, Thrawn, get jealous.
warnings: NSFW, 18+ only. Explicit sexual content and language, dom!Thrawn, sub!reader, smut, dirty talk, praises, p in v sex, blowjob, cunnilingus, multiple orgasms, face fuck, multiple positions, finger sucking, biting & marking, mating press, creampie, aftercare, doubtful reader, brief mentions of alcohol, jealous and possessive thrawn, kinda boss x secretary, shy imperial female reader who wears a white dress with slit. Director Krennic flirting with reader. NSFW ART. Not proofread. Also noticed I didn’t hit the brief entirely but it’s more or less on point 😅
Includes Fanart by the incredible Raevulsix that can be found here and the NSFW one here so go give her all the support and reblogs! 🤍
Authors note: oh, bestie here we go! This is my first time writing for Thrawn so I hope I portrayed him somewhat okay - I never kinda finished rebels yes I know bad girl. Co-wrote with @raevulsix 🤍
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The seemingly endless day was filled with a relentless stream of forms, data analysis, and tasks delegated by your boss that was causing a strain on your eyes from staring at the screen. But when your superior got called away, you seized the opportunity to lean back in your chair and take a moment of respite and listen to the faint hum of the ship.
As you reclined, you surveyed the expansive office belonging to your boss, Grand Admiral Thrawn. The space was dimly lit, dominated by blacks and greys, with a faint luminescent glow that did little to alleviate your eye strain.
Even sitting for the prolonged period had caused your legs to stiffen, so, anticipating Admiral Thrawn's return in about an hour, you stood up and began to walk around, seeking relief.
The office itself was a marvel, a fusion of refined taste and strategic functionality. Intricate artwork adorned the walls, showcasing pieces from various galaxies, while carefully placed artifacts adorned the shelves, creating a captivating ambiance.
You hesitated, torn between returning to your desk or succumbing to curiosity just this once. Normally, being in the same room as your boss felt challenging due to his cold demeanor and strict rules – no speaking unless spoken to, avoiding direct eye contact, and focusing solely on work.
The reputation of the Chiss, their stringent standards and unwavering determination, preceded him. His formidable nature and unyielding drive to succeed made him a daunting figure which makes him all the most frightening. Though, he had never raised his voice in your presence. The odd quip of passiveness was hard to miss however when he spoke to those under him or even as an equal, but luckily, you never came across it.
Until right now.
“I sincerely hope that you looking through my possessions is a hint that you have finished today’s reports.”
Startled by his sudden appearance behind you, you turned wide-eyed and mortified, stammering out an apology. "Forgive me, Sir—Admiral—Grand Admiral," you fumbled, feeling the weight of his piercing red gaze. "I didn't realise you had returned."
His cold stare and piercing eyes bore into you as he coldly acknowledged your oversight. "Now tell me, what are you doing?"
Faltering, you considered fabricating a lie, but Thrawn's demeanor warned against deception. "My legs and eyes started to ache," you admitted slowly, collecting your nervous breaths. "I stood up to walk around the office in your absence to ease it off. Admittedly, I got distracted by your collection." You gestured awkwardly before composing yourself. "I will finish off the reports immediately."
As you settled back at your desk, attempting to regain composure with shaky fingers swiping across the monitor, Thrawn's silent presence once again caught you off guard. A large hand suddenly appeared in front of your face, tapping the screen as he scrutinized your day's work. Frozen, you held your breath, transfixed on the screen.
After an intense minute, he broke the silence. "I need your assistance tonight," he declared, withdrawing his hand and making his way to his desk. You swiveled in your chair to face him.
Tonight? The prospect of more work dampened your spirits. "You will attend this Imperial Ball," he stated, not bothering to look your way.
A ball? You? Your flabbergasted expression went unnoticed as you asked, "May I question why you're asking me to go Grand Admiral? I believe this is for people like yourself, not just workers. And I’m just an intern."
He leaned over his desk, hands flat on the surface, and lifted his gaze to you. "I hope that's not an insinuation that I do not work."
Your day seemed to be spiraling further downward. "Sorry, forgive me, I didn't mean for it to come across like that." Nervously wringing your fingers, you stood. "I just don't think I'm the right candidate for whatever it is."
"And yet you do not know what it is I am asking of you," he replied simply. For a moment, you thought you detected a hint of amusement, but the dimness of the room and the strain on your eyes left you uncertain.
His posture regained its imposing stance as he circled his desk, arranging items with precision, making an already orderly space even more meticulous. Leaning against the black desk, he continued, "There have been reports of a few individuals willing to expose the Empire's plans on Lothal and they've been invited. I need you to gather as much information as you can and report back to me."
You had heard about this upcoming ball. All of your superiors would be attending and you had very little doubt that your friends, other workers like yourself, would be attending. So, the confusion lingered; why involve you in this? Hiring spies seemed a more logical choice. "So, when we land and head to the settlement, dress up.”
You are almost at a loss for words, was this some kind of punishment or did he sincerely trust you this much? So many questions yet his answers won’t settle with you regardless. "But Grand Admiral, I... I don't even own a dress."
"All of that has been arranged already."
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Staring at your reflection in the mirror, you hardly recognised yourself in the white dress that starkly contrasted with your usual Imperial attire. Only applying little makeup due to the fact you didn’t know how glamorous this was going to be, you marveled at the intricate details of the crystals adorning your dress—light and elegant.
As you added the finishing touches to the ensemble, you spent a moment admiring the transformation. The dress fit perfectly, making you wonder how Thrawn acquired your exact measurements. Perhaps it was part of the meticulous process involving your enrollment details he scoured through.
Yet, a peculiar thought crossed your mind: imagining Thrawn personally selecting this dress for you. Shaking off the notion, you grumbled to yourself, averting your gaze from the mirror. Such thoughts seemed absurd, given the professional context and how alluring you felt with a dress with a knee high slit. Your gut, however, betrayed you, swirling with a sense of uncertainty.
Left in disarray, you then pondered the impending social interaction with your superiors. How in the galaxy were you going to do this?
Thrawn had departed without providing you any guidance, leaving you to grapple with the dilemma of presenting yourself as his assistant or someone of greater significance.
When the time came, navigating the unfamiliar surroundings with nervous steps, you followed the confident strides of those who seemed familiar with the venue.
Presenting your pass to a guard, you slipped inside and held back a gasp at the sight that unfolded—an elegance seldom witnessed within the Empire's strict regimes. It was special, yet you couldn't shake the feeling of being out of place.
As a wallflower, you stood on the sidelines, observing and absentmindedly tapping your fingers against a glass of an unfamiliar alcoholic concoction handed to you by a server. Unbeknownst to you at first, your eyes were scanning the crowd, searching for your boss, Thrawn.
Surrounded by people you didn't know on a personal level, everyone exuded a somewhat regal aura. The faint but lovely music played in the background as the room unfolded into a wide-open space where various groups mingled, leaving you feeling like a hopeless outsider.
Taking a sip, cursing your shaky hand, you mustered the courage to fulfill your task. It was time to eavesdrop and gather the information Thrawn sought.
Worming your way into conversations wasn’t the easiest task you ever had to do but still, you managed it. Avoiding small talk, you nodded and smiled, feigning comprehension while attempting to extract useful information.
Yet, nothing seemed amiss.
Everyone appeared content with the Empire's forthcoming plans and events, leaving you struggling to maintain the forced smiles and laughter.
As you moved from group to group, you still found yourself keeping an eye out for Thrawn but no luck. Perhaps he wasn’t even attending. After all, his presence to you would have stood out since he was the only Chiss and his character was non-short of intriguing.
After an hour of this charade, weariness crept in. Your feet throbbed in the unfamiliar heels, prompting your excuse from a group - to whom didn’t seem to even acknowledge your existence - no one noticed your departure as you went to a quiet corner to collect yourself.
In the quiet corner, frustration and exhaustion compounded as you pondered the lack of information to report back to Thrawn. With past mishaps already haunting your thoughts, you berated yourself for the potential third strike.
However, things started to take an unexpected turn.
"Not enjoying the night?" The voice sliced through your thoughts, and you turned to see a figure adorned in a stark white military imperial uniform with a flowing cape to match. There was only one man you knew who wore that ensemble.
"Director Krennic," you blurted out, swiftly standing and adjusting your dress, visibly flustered. "I was just taking a moment for myself."
The man chuckled, swiftly suggesting you retake your seat, which, hesitantly, you did as he settled beside you.
Internally, you were freaking out. The power and influence of Director Krennic were both impeccable and imposing, especially considering his involvement with the upcoming and developing 'Death Star' project. "I hope you don't mind the company? It's been a long evening for me too," he mentioned, his gaze intense.
His stare unsettled you, sending an uncomfortable tingle down your spine. Yet, despite your unease, declining the company of one of your superiors wasn't an option. "Not at all," you replied, forcing a laugh that sounded awkward but hopefully convincing.
"Since you know who I am," Director Krennic began, turning to face you, "it is only fair that you tell me who I have the pleasure of meeting?"
A gulp caught in your throat. This was the first time tonight that someone had paid attention to you, and you debated whether to fabricate details about your identity. Ultimately, you settled for honesty—your name, at least. "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance. I've heard many things about you," you said, hoping your nervous breaths weren't too apparent.
He smiled, seemingly charming. "Beautiful name for a beautiful lady."
Mentally, your smile dropped, but you maintained it outwardly. Was he flirting with you? This exceeded any expectations for the night. "Oh, erm, why thank you."
He chuckled, leaning back and making himself comfortable on the loveseat you both occupied, taking a sip of his drink. "So, tell me about yourself. What is it you do?"
The moment of decision that had loomed over you all night finally arrived, and you found yourself veering away from the complete truth.
His reaction was palpable. A flicker of tension crossed his expression, transforming his once-charming smile into one that grew tense and strained. "Ah," he responded after a pause, his fingers tapping against the glass as his demeanor turned slightly hostile. "So, I will assume you work under someone of... authority."
The word 'authority' sounded more like a growl than a mere observation. It was evident that Krennic held some animosity toward Thrawn, likely due to their conflicting projects that often caused tensions between the two.
"That she does."
A voice sliced through the tension, and you turned to see Thrawn standing behind both of you. Your eyes involuntarily scanned his attire—a departure from his usual white military uniform to an impeccably suave and expensive-looking all-black tuxedo. It was a stark contrast to his typical appearance, and he looked good, remarkably good.
"Thrawn," Krennic acknowledged, standing to match his height. Kind of.
"Director Krennic..." Thrawn drawled slowly, the two of them staring each other down.
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(Art by Raevulsix)
The tense exchange between Thrawn and Krennic didn't escape your notice, particularly Krennic's apparent lack of acknowledgment toward your boss's full title, indicating a hint of pride. Thrawn, on the other hand, maintained his dignity with elegance.
"I was just speaking to this nice young lady and getting acquainted," Krennic stated.
"I noticed," Thrawn replied, his gaze briefly fixating on you. A sense of impending chastisement for lying to a superior loomed, but for now, Thrawn played along, redirecting his attention to Krennic. "But I need to speak with her in private.”
Krennic's expression twisted into a smirk. "We all serve the same purpose, Thrawn. Whatever you can say to her, you can say in front of me."
Maintaining his composure, Thrawn remained unaffected by Krennic's arrogance. "It is a matter that does not concern you."
"And it does her?" Krennic prodded.
"Yes," Thrawn affirmed, tone low.
Krennic's scrutiny fell upon you, making you feel a chill run down your spine. Unable to meet their gazes, you were frozen under his stare. "I see. Well," he extended his hand, and tentatively, you placed yours in his, allowing him to help you stand, his grip maintaining a slight tension. "It appears my presence is not warranted."
"It was a pleasure to meet you, Director Krennic. Perhaps we could talk again soon?" The words slipped out before you could consider the implications, and Krennic's sly smile at your proposition didn't escape Thrawn's notice, his glare feeling like sharp daggers at the back of your head.
Suddenly, you’re pulled towards Krennic, his breath lingered near your face as he spoke in a whisper but loud enough for a certain someone to hear, "That would please me, but I shouldn't continue to play with possessions that don't belong to me."
Thrawn's sharp rebuke sliced through the air, "That will be all, Krennic." In an instant, Krennic released his hold on you, leaving you stunned as he walked away.
Taking a deep breath, you turned to face Thrawn, your heart racing. The unsettling implication of being referred to as a possession of more so, his possession, lingered in your thoughts. As you stared up at Thrawn's stern expression, full of thunder, you tried to gather your thoughts.
"Grand Admiral Thrawn, I—"
"You are not to ever speak to Director Krennic again, is that understood?" his command cut through your attempted explanation.
The tension thickened as you nodded in acknowledgment of Thrawn's command, keeping your gaze lowered. However, instead of walking away, he approached, sending a jolt through you.
A gentle touch beneath your chin lifted your gaze to meet his, and you're awestruck as his eyes glowed. Not even metaphorically or hypothetically - red eyes that held a powerful allure, captivating your attention. His words became a distant murmur as you found yourself too entranced by his intense gaze to even realise he was speaking to you.
Was anyone else seeing this? Surely someone had to have been watching this somewhat intimate exchange.
Suddenly, his raised brow and deep furrowed eyes broke through your reverie, snapping you back to reality. "Sorry," you stammered, embarrassed. "What did you say?"
For a second, he paused before a sly smile merges on his face. "I said,” he starts but a part of you didn’t quite believe he was telling you everything, “I hope you have some information to tell me. After all, that is why you are here," he repeated, his tone unwavering.
Your stomach sank as you realised you had nothing to report.
"Actually, I—" you began, but he interrupted, instructing you to head to his quarters to discuss further. As he stepped away, you finally regained your senses, but before you could utter a word, he vanished into the crowd.
Feeling the weight of the situation, you sighed, acknowledging the mess you were in.
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Entering Thrawn's office, anxiety flooded your thoughts, making the walk feel slow and burdensome. Anticipation of the imminent repercussions swirled in your mind.
Without seeing the point in waiting outside, you ventured in, greeted by the familiar ambiance—chilled air and a dimly lit room adorned with sculptures, artifacts, and paintings, showcasing Thrawn's appreciation for art, a shared interest between the two of you.
Moving towards his desk, your fingers traced the flat surface before taking a seat in one of the chairs opposite.
"I feel sick," you muttered to yourself, running a hand through your hair as your knee bounced nervously.
"Perhaps some water?" Thrawn's calm and composed voice cut through the silence.
Caught off guard by Thrawn's sudden appearance, you startled in your seat, quickly composing yourself with an apologetic tone. "Sorry, I... I'm fine."
He hummed softly, crossing into the room. "Are you sure you do not want a drink?" His offer was polite, but you declined, mustering a steadier breath. "I'm sure. Thank you, though."
Seated behind the desk, Thrawn's piercing gaze seemed to bore into you, an intensity that was strangely captivating rather than uncomfortable. Boldly facing the inevitable, knowing your fate might be sealed, you met his gaze head-on.
Despite working under him for months, it was the first time you truly looked at him. His angular face was striking, his skin a captivating shade of blue reminiscent of the most beautiful oceans you had only dreamed of seeing, yet it was his glowing eyes that held the allure.
"So," he finally spoke, leaning forward and interlacing his fingers on the desk, breaking the silence, "fill me in." The directive was clear, and despite your nerves, you prepared to relay the truth, whatever the consequences might be.
"Grand Admiral Thra—"
"Thrawn," he interrupted, and confusion furrowed your brows.
"S-Sorry?"
"Thrawn is just fine. Proceed," he instructed, nodding, and despite your confusion, the fear of falling short in your duty took precedence.
"I have nothing to report," you rushed, holding your breath.
Thrawn's expression remained unchanged as he leaned back in his seat, nodding slowly. "Is that because you spent the evening with Director Krennic?"
Your heart sank at the insinuation. "Not at all. I only spoke to him for a minute before you came over," you defended, sitting a little more forward. "I genuinely have nothing to report. I saw nothing awry."
"Interesting," Thrawn drawled. "And he gave no hints of deception to you?"
Thrawn was clearly fishing for information on Krennic, but you had nothing substantial to provide. "No, though he wasn't too pleased about me working for you. Lie or not."
The room fell into a hush, the only sound being the rhythmic tapping of his fingers against the desk. "That I can imagine, given how he was looking at you all night."
The mention of Krennic's prolonged interest caught your attention, and Thrawn noticed, a fleeting smirk crossing his face. "How is it you like the dress?"
Glancing down at the attire, you smoothed out its seams. It was the most extravagant outfit you had ever worn, and while it felt foreign, it also made you feel special. Especially considering the attention from someone as influential as Krennic. "It's lovely."
"I knew it would look good on you," he replied casually, causing your heart to pause momentarily.
"Can I ask what you mean by that?" you inquired, exhaling shakily, eyes widening. Did he choose this dress for you?
Thrawn tilted his head. "I think it is obvious what I mean," he stated, then stood, circling the desk until he stood in front of you. You craned your neck to look up at his imposing figure. "But I will spell it out for you. I picked this dress specifically for you… And you look divine."
The realisation struck like a thunderbolt, rendering you momentarily speechless. Krennic's cryptic insinuation about being a 'possession' suddenly made sense—jealousy seemed to be the most plausible explanation, although it felt improbable given your position as just his assistant. Then, doubts began to seep in as you recalled that he might have had someone else before you, and maybe even before that.
Standing up, nerves jangling, you instinctively took a step back from the Chiss, your thumbs nervously twiddling as you grappled with the situation. "I'm not that kind of girl, Grand Admiral—"
"Thrawn."
"Yes, sorry... I'm not that kind of girl."
He regarded you with an almost quizzical look, his eyes betraying a subtle understanding of the implications behind your words. "And I'm not that type of man," he responded calmly, though your scoff interrupted him. A brief pause followed as he closed the distance between you, his gaze piercing. "You do not believe me."
"You're a powerful man, you've probably had numerous assistants, interns, before me..." you stated your thoughts, a surge of boldness propelling your words. "I don't want to be just another assistant, disposable at your whim."
Thrawn observed you, his face maintaining an air of impassivity yet hinting at a hidden admiration for your courage. "May I be honest?"
Silent but attentive, you allowed him to continue, even as his words stung. "Your work is subpar. Lacking."
Ouch.
"Yet, you've remained my longest-serving assistant," he remarked, drawing closer, and this time, you didn't pull away. "Despite mistakes, missed deadlines... Do you know why?"
He stood before you, his presence almost overwhelming, his eyes emanating a deep red hue, sending shivers down your spine as his warm breath brushed against your skin. Inhaling a distinctive, spicy scent mixed with a hint of alcohol from the Ball, you felt your knees weakening, your preconceptions about him slowly crumbling. "N-No," you finally managed to breathe out.
Thrawn's admission rang out in the quiet room, his voice a blend of quiet intensity. "Because what I want is you. I want you to be mine, I need you to be mine."
"Grand A—"
"Say my name properly," his hand swiftly found your waist, tracing the delicate details of the dress he had meticulously chosen for you. "Say it."
Your eyes met his, the words you intended to voice dissolving as all you could focus on was his demand. "Thrawn."
His chest heaved subtly at the sound of his name spoken by you. "Again," he urged, this time his other hand tenderly yet with some vigour cupping your jaw.
Your eyes closed involuntarily, caught in a trance. "Thrawn... what is happening?"
"You have captured my interest since the first time you entered my office," his hand glided from your waist to the small of your back, and you found yourself instinctively leaning into his touch.
The nagging doubt that this could be too good to be true lingered in your mind. "Have you said that to all of your assistants?"
He chuckled, the resonance of his low laughter sending vibrations through your chest. "Now, now... I was not lying when I said that I am not that kind of man. Have you ever seen a Chiss with another person?"
Truthfully, you had never witnessed any other Chiss aside from him. "Well, no, but—"
"Then understand me," he insisted, drawing you closer against his chest, your hands clutching the lapels of his black tuxedo. "Understand that I do not seek companionship, I do not pursue romantic commitments. War and military endeavors dominate the minds of my species. So, tell me, why are you at the forefront of mine?"
"I... don't know," you confessed, feeling an electric excitement coursing through your skin.
His hand cupped your cheek, his breath grazing against your skin as he leaned in. "A woman like you can make a man like me lose control."
His proximity made it hard to breathe, yet it felt inexplicably right to lean toward him. "Can anyone know about us?"
The query hung in the charged air, bold and daring. You anticipated the response, though his confirmation solidified it. "No, nobody can know."
The weight of the decision hung heavy in your mind. You understood the necessity of keeping your connection with him secret; his position was far too vital to risk any involvement. “But, my devotion, my loyalty… it’s all yours.” His interruption broke through your thoughts, and as you opened your eyes to meet his gaze, you found yourself once again ensnared by the fiery red glow that captivated you.
"Lose control then."
Without hesitation, his lips crashed onto yours, enveloping your senses in a whirlwind of passion. His kiss, intense and commanding, nearly swept you off your feet. His hands explored your body, fingers gripping your hips firmly before lifting you effortlessly. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his torso as he skillfully guided you through his quarters, never once breaking the embrace, and eventually leading you into his bedroom.
You find yourself being placed on a bed, his body leaning over you as his lips, intoxicating and flavoured with just a tinge of alcohol from this evening move from your lips, down your neck before he stands over you.
“I have submitted to you,” with one hand he unclasps the button of his tux before moving it off his shoulders and carelessly chucking it to the side, followed by him unclasping the top button of his shirt, “are you willing to submit to me?”
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(Art by Raevulsix)
Sitting up on your elbows, you’re prepared to answer but your words are caught in your mouth as he unbuckles his pants, sliding the belt out of the loops before he releases his strong, throbbing cock.
Your mouth salivates, watching as he moves his hand along its length. You couldn’t help the gasp that left your lips just at the size of him and it made you both excited and also a little nervous.
“I assume that you like what you see?”
You nod, your legs coming together as you feel your cunt begin to throb which doesn’t go unnoticed by Thrawn. “Crawl towards me.”
Obeying, you crawl on your hands and knees across the sheets, your white dress trailing behind you before you are sat comfortably in front of him, his beautiful blue cock twitching under your wanting gaze.
Thrawn lets out a soft sigh, sliding his hand down to the base of his length and tilts his head at you before dangling the curve of his dick down toward you. You open your mouth almost on instinct and slide your tongue out, grazing the underside of the head.
“You’ve done this before,” he comments with glowing eyes.
“Once or twice,” you whisper, sitting up onto your knees to take the fullness of the head into your mouth, rolling your tongue around the tip of it, melting at the saltiness of his precum.
Thrawn moans, long and low. It's been excruciating for him to not have been able to touch you until now and you were absolutely perfect. Large blue hands lift to your head and his fingers slide through the roots of your hair, tugging softly—encouraging, pushing you to take more. "Now that is my good girl." He practically purrs, and the ache between your legs throbs even more with excitement. “You are wonderful.”
You blush, unsure if it’s due to the compliments or the fact your boss's cock is stuffed in your mouth which had your lips etched open wide and eyes already starting to water. As he drops his pants fully and removes his shirt from his body along with his tie and pants, you look up at him with adoration.
You run your hands up and down his toned thighs as you begin to take him deeper into your mouth (if you even can), your saliva dribbling down his heated skin and your chin.
Thrawn curls his dexterous digits tighter into your hair and holds your head still as you envelope him as far as you can, opening your throat for him as he begins a violent and sudden ruts into your mouth. You whimper in please, a hand coming between your legs as you pull your dress to the side and dive your fingers straight to your clit as he deepthroats your pretty mouth.
His grunts and moans fill the room yet remain low and husky as you feel his tip poke at the back of your throat that forces a response from you; gagging on his velvety and soaked cock.
You hold strong for him, your fingers aching as you rub your clit in a circular fashion and push down the pleasant assault on your throat. “Look at you, a mess… it is rather arousing.” He cooes, one of his hands leaving your hair and holding his cock as he pulls out, giving you a very brief gasp of air before he slips it straight past your lips again.
Closing your eyes, you swallow uselessly around his thickness as he grunts and gives a few shallow thrusts before he pulls you back off. The sound you make is ragged, spit bubbling from your lips and tears rolling down your cheeks as he cups a hand under your chin and brings your face up. “And did I say you could touch yourself?” His eyes glance down at the sight of your hand between your legs. “Very insubordinate.”
You had never been so belittled yet praised at the same time before but it had your blood boiling in lust for it. “I couldn’t help it,”
“That much is obvious,” he replies as he wipes a stray tear from your cheek, “lay back. I want to look at you.”
Doing as you’re told, you scoot back before laying back on the bed, your head hitting one of the pillows as he analyzes you fully from the end of the bed. His expression was unreadable, not showing much signs but as he looked at you, you just admired him for a second too.
Tall, handsome and clearly strong from being a skilled fighter, you were a little breathless and now, a little insecure.
“Don’t worry,” his words broke you out of your trance, watching him kneel on the bed before he moves towards you, “you are breathtaking to look at.”
Heat rises to your cheeks and bashfully, you look away from his gaze but find yourself softly moaning as you feel something warm and wet caress at your exposed thigh.
Looking back his way, Thrawn lay flat on his stomach and tediously licked at your flesh, your skin dousing in goosebumps at his touch. “Thrawn…” you breathe, now meeting his dark, glowing gaze as he folds your dress upwards, exposing yourself to him.
Thrawn pushes your panties to the side, hooking his finger through the damp fabric to expose your glistening cunt to which he made a noise of satisfaction. “You smell beautiful.”
You let out a soft and nervous chuckle but your nerves are dwindled when Thrawn continues to kiss at your inner thighs, tasting the slightly salty tang of your skin before you let out a small yelp of surprise when his teeth sink into your skin, his tongue circling around the teeth marks that he left. “I hope you do not mind if I sometimes find myself needing to taste you.”
You blink at him, breathing ragged. Nobody had ever bitten you before but it didn’t even hurt. It was new to you and the sensation made your mind whirl. So, you shake your head and watch as he continues to leave love bites on the inside of your thighs, marking his territory; his breath warm and fanning agasint your sex that you were so eager for him to touch.
“Thrawn… touch me. Please.”
There’s a chuckle that lasts a moment before he says, “I am not one to take orders… but since you asked so nicely.” He growled the last part until his lips latched to your cunt and you let out the most pathetic whine you could muster.
“Perfect." Thrawn grunts, his breath on your wetness making your toes curl as tongue slides flat against your folds and up to your clit.
“F-Fuck, Thrawn…!” You choke, stifling your ragged gasp with a hand over your mouth in the fears someone would hear the lewd noises of your moaning and the lapping and sucking of your pussy.
You look down at Thrawn at work, obsessed with the fact that his eyes were trained on you with an intense gaze. He’s sucking on your clit with such dominance that has your hands gripping the sheets beneath you as his hands clasp on your thighs, spreading them open as they threaten to close.
It had been a while since you had been touched like this so there’s no surprise that you felt your climax begin to bubble.
“Oh my.. fuck… Thrawn I’m going to-.”
“Do it. Cum on my tongue. Now.”
Legs spasming, stars blurring your vision you feel yourself let go, followed by a collected moan from the both of you as he laps up your juices. Your body is heaving from the sensation but Thrawn doesn’t stop.
“Another.”
“T-Thrawn… I can’t…” you rasp, completely overstimulated as your body writhes in your dress and across the sheets.
“I know you humans are capable of some remarkable achievements. This is one of them. Cum again.” His mouth is back on your folds, tongue rubbing along your clit furiously to force another orgasm from you.
You wanted to cum again, desperately, but your body was tingling and shaking too much for you to fathom what was even happening.
Despite the bed being so large and spacious, as your body involuntarily fights against him, your head is bumping against the headboard as Thrawn pushes his tongue deep inside you, strong and powerful hands biting into the flesh of your thighs as your whole body convulses.
“Thrawn,” you gasp, your hand finding its way onto the sheets, gripping tight, “I can’t.”
“Another.” He demands from you, tongue relentless. Not once did he even lift a finger to your pussy, the pleasure being solely done by his tongue. You pondered what it’d feel to have his fingers inside you but as the familiar sight of stars began to speckle your vision, your body fires up.
“That’s it,” he growls into your cunt, sending violent vibrations through your body, “I knew you could do it.”
You're crying his name, sweat coating your body as you let out a lewd cry as your body gives in to Thrawn’s advances.
As you heave, catching back your breath Thrawn has moved away from your cunt as you flop onto your side, completely spent.
Your legs still twitch and Thrawn watches you in amazement. The mattress sinks beside you as Thrawn brings you to him, your back pressed to his bare chest as he runs his fingers up and down your arm. “You really are quite enchanting.”
You let out a breathless laugh and found your head falling back into the crook of his neck, your heart rate calming down. “So are you.”
The compliment repeats in his mind, not really used to such pleasantries but nonetheless gives a rare smile. “Pleasures all mine,” he purrs, leaning down as his lips ghost over your ear before he plants a delicate kiss to your lobe that had you biting your lip.
You could feel his erection pressing into your back and you damned the beautiful dress for blocking the warmth of his skin against you again. But despite the room having a chill to it, the fire in both of you was sure to warm you up.
His lips move from your ear as he leans more over you and you crane your neck, giving him the access you knew he desired as his lips found your skin, teeth grazing your pulse.
Your breaths came in shallow, uneven waves, charged with anticipation as you awaited his next move.
"Do I detect a flicker of unease?" His voice, low and delicate, cascaded over you, sending goosebumps skittering along your spine.
You turned to meet his gaze, a response ready. "Not at all," you replied, your voice betraying the hint of excitement that danced within.
He leaned closer, his words a whisper against your lips. "All in good time, my pet. Patience," he murmured, grazing a phantom kiss over your mouth. "For now, I just want to revel in your presence."
Your smile was tender, curiosity lacing your words. "And how long do you plan to bask in this admiration?"
His gaze held yours, an intensity in his touch as his hand cupped your jaw. "Are you expected elsewhere tonight?" His inquiry lingered, hinting at a deeper intention.
“No,” you shake your head, looking down at his lips and subtly biting your own before meeting his gaze, “I just want you.”
“You are to do exactly as I say,” he utters, his thumb trailing over your lower lip before you take the instinct of letting him slide it inside your mouth, allowing you to suck on his digit eagerly, “and that is to be patient.”
You whine softly around his thumb, your pussy beginning to throb as you crave him. Suddenly, you got bold. You pull his thumb out of your mouth with a pop and meet his beautiful eyes again. “Perhaps I should have kept speaking to Director Kren-.”
He snaps.
A fire sizzled in him at the mere sound of his rival's name coming from your mouth, his jaw clenching but alas increasingly aroused at your defiance and his clear sign of jealousy.
Smashing his lips to yours, you’re brought to his chest with an intensity you hadn’t seen from him yet. Your lips felt swollen from his scorching kiss that left you breathless, needing more as you tug on his broad shoulders to bring him even closer to you.
“How dare you say his name in here,” he growls, raking his hands up your thighs as he shifts your dress past your knees, letting it ruch just above your navel and pulling your panties down to your ankles that you kick off, “that man infuriates me to no end.”
He leans over you, capturing your lips but before you could kiss back, he’s pulling away, teeth grazing your lower lip. “Sounds like you’re jealous,” you rasp only to receive a firm spank to your rear before his mouth moves to your neck, sucking and marking his territory once again.
“How can that be?” He murmurs against your hot, sweating skin, “I’m the one with the masterpiece.”
Before you could even fathom his words, you’re pushed up against the headboard, making space for Thrawn’s large and toned body between your legs, his cock and balls resting hot and heavy against your bare, wet cunt.
Dazed, you look at the scene between your legs before you, never in a thousand years would you think you would have the Grand Admirals cock just resting against you. On you.
“I’m going to fuck you,” his words both sounded like a command and a promise to which, you mouth a breathless ‘please’.
You whimper in anguish as he presses his cock down against your folds, teasing you as he thrusts his hips back and forth slowly. “I want you to beg. I want you to beg me to slide my cock into your pussy.”
“Please Thrawn, please fuck me. Please fuck me until I cum all over your cock again.” You wiggle your hips, attempting to coax Thrawn’s length to conveniently slip inside but by the size of him, this would be a delicate operation.
“That’s it,” he cooed, gripping his cock and stroking it slowly above you, letting the tip rub against your aching pearl, “you have submitted to me perfectly so far…”
Then, you feel his cock press into you, your pussy opening to welcome him all the way in. You're tender already but the pain that hits you as his cock splits you open is fucking incredible.
It’s hard to read his expression but he’s holding his breath, letting his eyes close he slowly seethes all the way in you. His fingers bruise into your thighs as he keeps them apart as you white-knuckle grip onto the sheets. “Wow,” you keen, “f-fuck - that’s amazing.”
“What a good girl you are,” his blazing eyes meet yours, “and it appears you take my cock exceptionally well.”
The motion of him sliding in and out of you slowly only lasts a few moments before Thrawn gives you everything. Grabbing your hips, he lifts you to meet his now rough and demanding commands, eyes not once leaving your face.
He’s analysing every movement, every sound and every look you make. Like he’s making a mental note of you.
Words strangled in your throat but the gentle groans and low rumble of his rare praises is enough to have your eyes rolling back, cursing loudly as you feel him so full inside you. A prick of heat dances down your spine and settles in your abdomen, increasing the already growing fire of arousal that was quickly overtaking you.
He moves one hand down your body, caressing your breasts from over your dress which has your head tilting back in pleasure but not before he grabs at your throat. His hold isn’t dangerous, in fact it was very alluring as he keeps your focus solely on him. “Don’t you look away from me.”
“Yes, Thrawn.” You pant, gasping as he ever so gently squeezes your throat as he drills hard and fast right into you
Minutes of exctasy pass and soon, Thrawn has flipped you so you straddled on top of him, not once breaking away from you as he ruts his hips upwards, your chest falling against his bare one as he fucks you with great determination.
“O-oh fuck! Thrawn please…!” You whimper pathetically, sobbing into his chest as his arms wrap around your body, pressing you tight against him, confined to his warm skin.
He’s groaning your name, teeth biting into the flesh of your shoulder before he moves you so you’re sat up straight, grabbing hold of your dress so you have nowhere to go. “Ride me. Come on.” With one hard spank to your arse, you squirm in pleasure; eyes locked to his as you began to move your hips to and fro, dragging your pussy along his cock that was soaked with your juices.
Nails biting your hips, you writhe on him, your hands falling to hold onto his toned pectorals, watching as he stares up at you as he fills every inch of you.
His blown pupils show that he is hungry and at long last, he starts to remove your dress. Tossing it to the side, he sits up slowly watching your breasts bounce up and down on your chest as you grind hard on his cock. “Your body would be perfect as a sculpture.” His fingers caress over your stiffened nipples, a hum of satisfaction in his throat. “That way I could admire you when you are in my absence.”
You couldn’t help yourself, planting a heated kiss to his lips as his words spur you on to satisfy the Grand Admiral. His right hand cups your cheek, his tongue sliding in your mouth where you could taste your orgasm from before. “I need you, Thrawn.”
“You are mine.” He murmurs to your lips, noticing as your rhythm starts to get jagged he does you the courtesy of laying you down on your side. And just like the before, he slips behind you but this time also sliding himself inside you.
Legs like jelly, your body is still alight with desire, one arm snaked under your nude body, cupping your jaw as he holds your head back just far enough so he can kiss and nip at your lips. You cock your leg up a bit, allowing Thrawn to fuck you with extra slickness. You take him inside your fluttering cunt with almost no resistance, just enveloping him in a heat that you were desperate for him to not to leave because it feels so good. You feel so good and so full.
The sound of his cock slapping your wet cunt was disgustingly filthy and you kept having the creeping nervous feeling that someone would have heard both of your secret ‘meeting’. “Nobody will enter,” he says as if reading your mind, “try and relax.”
His lips move from yours to your neck, sharp teeth grazing over your already bruised skin as he keeps one hand on your jaw, the other sliding over your breasts and giving them a teasing slap that emits a moan from your throat. “Oh, you like that? Would you care for another?”
And before you could even scream yes, he slaps your tits one more before his hand flies straight to your cunt, fingers expertly caressing your clit that makes your body involuntarily jolt.
“Gorgeous little tart.” He growls, hips now pounding into you that you were certain it was going to leave bruises as he circles his fingers deliciously over your swollen bud.
"Fuckfuckfuckfuck—" you cry, sweat beads trailing down the side of your face, only to have Thrawn's strong tongue dancing with your own.
Toes curling, you're melting into his mouth and under his touch as you whimper that you’re going to cum, only for him to encourage you to do so. And you do.
Your body burns with heat until it feels like you have been doused with water, putting out the flame inside you. You cum harder than you think you ever have in your life. A strangled cry of pleasure is made from your mouth, as if you were in pain but not at all.
“That’s it… what a delicious sight you are.” He purrs, eyes burning with delight as his thrusting lets up, welcoming the feeling of your tight and wet walls caressing around his cock.
Then, you’re being moved into the most compromising position you could be. Your chest is heaving wildly, eyes glistening in lust because despite your legs still shaking from your climax, you are pressed onto your back, legs folding over your body as he crouches between your legs. His cock pushed down straight into your core. His veined hands grip your ankles, keeping you in place as well as using you for balance.
“You have presented yourself so well tonight and you have obeyed me perfectly,” he rasps, mouth almost drooling, “now is time for your reward.”
Speechless, as usual when you’re around him, you’re surprised at how flexible you suddenly are as your feet almost come to the side of your head. His body pressed tight to the backs of your legs until his lips touch yours, rough and demanding just like his thrusts.
The position, the sounds, who you were with was sending your mind into overdrive. Your hands find their way around his back, nails accidentally scratching at his skin that made him hiss subtly as you go to apologise, he says, “harder.”
“What?” You gasp, both from him unexpected pleasure in you clawing at his back and how his cock has filled you completely, tip pushing right to your cervix.
“Harder.”
So you do. Your fingers claw at him desperately, legs aching and clenching your cunt around his cock hungrily making the roll of Thrawn’s hips more violent and his subtle groans of pleasure louder.
His hot breath catches your own as he pressed his sweat-slicked forehead to yours, legs quivering as you pant his name.
“You’re going to take every drop of my seed, do you understand me?” He growls, a shit-eating smirk on his lips as he gauges your reaction.
You nod your head eagerly but it wasn’t a good enough answer for him as he lets go of one of your ankles and wraps a tight hand round your throat. “Answer me.”
“Yes, y-yes.” You cry in pleasure, matching his smirk before time seems to grind to a halt as he plants himself as far as he can go into your womb, letting all of his scorching seed spill out with each pulse from his stiff cock.
Rope after rope of white lace pours into your used pussy, and the Grand Admiral doesn’t dare to pull out before he has made sure that you have received every last drop inside of you.
He lets out a heaved, heated breath before he pulls out of you, the feeling lewd and filthy before he collapses on to the bed beside you.
You lay still, heart racing at what just happened and before you could even turn to look at your Boss, he had stood up and walked across the room and left behind a door.
A twinge of hurt proceeds you as well as the sudden change of temperature in the cold air. You swing your legs round and sit on the edge of the bed, running a hand through your sex-crazed hair before you swipe up your dress in your hands.
Before you could slip away, preparing for the awkward retreat to your own quarters, the door glided open with a hiss.
"I have drawn you a—" His voice filled the room, interrupting your hasty exit, causing you to swallow hard. Glancing over your shoulder, you saw him holding one white robe while draped in another.
"I just... I thought..." Your words trailed off as he advanced toward you, a sudden surge of nervousness overtaking you.
He tilted his head to the side, his gaze penetrating. "Did I not convey that every word I spoke was genuine?" The question hung in the air, his sincerity challenging any wavering doubts.
“It seems too good to be true.” Your sigh carried both disbelief and a tinge of self-doubt as he closed the gap between you, his presence a calming yet overwhelming force. "I don't deserve a man like you," you confessed, your words carrying the weight of uncertainty.
In response, he enveloped you in a comforting embrace of a soft, white robe, shielding your exposed skin from the cool air.
"And why would you think that?" His question hung in the room, probing deeper into your insecurities.
As his actions of tonight seemed to have spoken louder than words, a glimmer of reassurance began to emerge within you. With tender care, he guided you across the room, revealing the spacious bathroom with its welcoming, steam-filled air. The drawn bath exuded an enticing warmth, a stark contrast to the chilly room.
"I want you to be mine. If you will have me," he murmured, his voice resonating with earnestness, echoing the genuine desire for your acceptance.
You turned to meet his gaze, observing the hand clasped in yours before lifting your eyes to his captivating, unique red gaze. There was a captivating allure, something undeniably beautiful and different about him.
Your attempt to decipher his unreadable expression failed as his stoic visage remained unchanged. Yet, those enigmatic eyes held a magnetic pull, drawing you in. "Will you take care of me, Thrawn?" you asked, your voice carrying a vulnerable plea.
"I will do everything in my power for you," he assured you.
The moment lingered, and finally, your lips met his in a tender, gentle kiss. He guided you towards the inviting warmth of the bath, easing your weary body into the scorching water, allowing the tension to dissipate.
"Your face is like art," he suddenly declared, catching you off guard once more. His words prompted a staggered breath, causing you to look up at him as he admired you.
"Do you not agree?" His question tinged your cheeks with doubt and embarrassment.
"I've never viewed myself like that before,"
“I’m sure you will begin to find that you will agree with me for most things,” he drops the robe from his body and gestures you to sit forward and as you do, you sigh heavenly as he slips in behind you, arms wrapping around your body as your back is brought to his chest.
"And soon you will agree and see why you belong with me," he murmured, his voice carrying a sense of quiet assurance as he tenderly ran warm water up and down your arms, creating a serene atmosphere enveloping both of you in a comfortable moment.
His tender care continued as he focused on you, his lips trailing softly over the marks he had left on your neck. Whispered words of praise graced your skin, creating a delicate symphony of affectionate gestures, each touch and utterance a testament to his adoration for you.
Later that night as you grew tired, he gently carried you back to his bed and settled beside you, drifting off to sleep, the weight of your actions pressed heavily on your mind. The realisation dawned that this relationship would be far from ordinary. He held power, wealth—everything beyond your reach but he was offering it to you. a fundamental shift, a leap into an entirely different world.
Maybe, just maybe, this unexpected turn could be the shift you had been waiting for your entire life.
———
———
Masterlist
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ashiemochi · 1 year
Text
afterhours - lsk|m PT.2
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✠ afterhours ↳ keep 'em up
➶ pairing: RE4R!Leon S Kennedy x F! Reader ➶ genre: subtle angst, fluff, smutty smut smut ➶ Overall word count: 5.3K you count ➶ Chapters/length: 2 parts ➶ Content includes: this is literal sex but, foreplay (f! receiving), overstimulation (both receiving), creampie, multiple orgasms, squirting, the whole package. Oh, and bondage. ➶ Collab with @the-resident-vampire ➶ Song rec: the weeknd - afterhours
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pt.1 -> ∆
Sweet Jesus, what did you get yourself into?
Leon’s kisses were always intoxicating, holding onto those softest pair of lips and skilful tongue. It was safe to say your breath was stolen away from your lungs, but it was okay. You didn’t need air when you had his essence and aura swallowing you whole, especially when your back met your bed.
Leon pulled away from your lips, but not quite. His need to prove to you and himself that you were more than okay and alive urged him to drag his kisses down your neck. His hands, ever so graceful, took off your shirt – or tore it in this case – which made you gasp, eyes widening at your poor tanktop. 
“Leon! That was my favourite top!”
“Sorry,” Leon chuckled, leaning back so he was on his haunches to take off his shirt before settling his hands on your bare thighs, caressing them gently.
“No, you’re not.” You furrowed your brows, unable to conceal your shivering at his touches as you sat up to take off what was left of your top. 
Leon sucked in his breath at the sight of you, his sharp eyes not once leaving your body, “No, I’m not.”
You were left with your bra and your shorts, leaving you almost equal to Leon’s attire; just his grey sweatpants. In all honesty, he might as well be naked at this point. 
You grew shy under his observant eyes, squirming a little, “You’re staring again.”
Leon snapped his eyes up to your face, a smile coming to his lips as he leaned forward with his hands on either side of your torso, whispering, “How can I not when you always look this beautiful?”
He easily unclipped your bra, dragging the straps down with a kiss on your shoulder.
“You’ve seen me naked more than once, Leon.” You giggled faintly, helping him with taking off your bra and he tossed it aside like it was nothing.
His big hand grasped your bosom, your nipple peeking between his index and middle as his lips hovered over yours, “Doesn’t change a thing, princess.”
That made you blush even more, earning a lighthearted snicker from him before he pressed his lips against yours. The pressure he applied was more than enough of a hint that he wanted you to lie down – which you did. 
His free hand trailed down to your hip, thumb sinking into the shorts’ band as if teasing you whilst the other hand was busy kneading your chest, pushing soft moans out of you and against his lips.
Your sex life with Leon would always end up with your mind blown at the end. Your pleasure was his top priority no matter the circumstance. Each day or night (might be even twice a day) felt amazing in more than one way. 
His kisses were breathtaking, his tongue was merciless, his giant hands and lithe fingers would paint painless galaxies all over your skin, and his bigbig dick was supper for you. Every stretch of an inch and every thrust of his hips would leave you gasping for more. 
Lastly, when Leon would be soso close to his orgasm, his moans and grunts were flat-out sinful – just like his mutters and praises. You could swear that just hearing those airy fuck yes, and guttural shit, you feel so goddamn good would make you cum on the spot. 
And tonight didn’t seem any different – minus the handcuffs hidden within the nightstand. The thought of being immobile beneath him was evoking something new in you. You didn’t know when he was going to use it, which made you overall anxious with excitement running down to your core.
You muffled a moan with a sigh, head tipping back when Leon pulled away to nibble on your neck. Covering them up tomorrow for your family’s brunch was going to be daunting; that was a problem for tomorrow, though.
You ran your hand through his fluffy blonde hair, fingernails barely scratching his scalp. His hot breath wafted on the crook of your neck, his fingers digging into your skin for a split second –  a show of restraint. His eyes were fluttered shut, his long lashes tickling your skin as his lips found something else to latch onto. 
“Ah,” You breathed out, feeling his tongue poke and prod your nipple. 
His lips clasped around it, suckling onto it and shooting small bubbles through your nerves. Your back arched into his mouth with a whine, his hand squeezing your other bosom before he pinched and rolled your bud in between his thumb and index.
“F–fuck,” 
Leon’s dark chuckle didn’t go unnoticed, teething your hardened nipple gently and he released it with a noisy pop. He looked up at you, a tilted smug smile on his face, “That good, huh?”
“You’re such a goddamn,” You swallowed thickly, now aware of his other hand had slipped under your shorts and panties, “Tease.”
His smile only widened, shifting to angle his wrist right and your breath hitched in your throat at the long drag of his middle finger across your cunt. 
“Correction,” He tapped your clit once, feeling the way your arousal was starting to become more apparent than ever, “I like to take my time with you.”
Screw his patience.
Slowly, he toyed with your clit in lazy circles, making you whimper. Leon watched your chest rising and falling unrhythmically, one of your hands latching onto his arm and the other gripping the sheets beneath you. You were utterly under his mercy, handcuffs on or off.
Then his observant blues caught the darkish blues around your wrists. 
That guilt crawled up his back, setting his veins on fire and a heavy weight upon his shoulders. He never should’ve taken his eyes off of you. One moment, you both stumbled upon Luis and the last thing he heard was your yelp when the Big Cheese tossed you to the wall, knocking you out. 
He could’ve prevented it if he wasn’t focused on the tied-up guy. 
Waking up with the three of you tied up was hectic, to say the least. With both men being taller than you, your feet were barely touching the ground, leaving all the gravity and pressure to tug on your wrists way more than you’d like. 
Leon was quick to try and find a way to bring down the chains, keeping in mind to get rid of them once you weren’t hanging from the ceiling, literally. 
The rest of the mission went as you’d expect; not quite as smoothly, but it got the job done. Leon was able to pick up on the winces and muffled yelps from you whenever you’d fire your gun, the recoil shoving back at the ache within your wrists. 
He could’ve prevented your pain.
Through your half-lidded eyes, you noticed his shift in demeanour as the same one from when you two were in the kitchen that evening. His brows were furrowed more than usual, the corners of his lips tugging down into a frown – and then his finger stilled. 
“Leon?” You whispered, growing concerned and his eyes looked down at you, “Are you okay?”
Whatever in him clicked and he moved his arm away from your grasp, making you even more confused. His fingers clasped around your wrist tenderly, thumb running across the soreness of your skin. Flashes of that night several weeks ago were turning like a never-ending carousel around his head. 
Before you could ask him again, he managed to fit your other wrist in one big grip and then they were pinned above you into the plush of pillows. The hastiness of it forced a surprised noise from you, eyes widening at him towering over you to keep your arms up. 
“I’m fine,” Leon answered lowly, releasing your clit to grab your shorts and panties, pushing them down, “Kick ‘em off.”
You complied silently.
Leon in bed was always unpredictable. Whether he was going to go slow to feel every inch of your warmwarm pussy, or he was going to fuck your brains out and ruin your cervix. Either too rough or too sweet. 
Having both was the usual – it seemed like the lever had been shoved to the rough side and broke off. 
His hand returned to where you needed him the most and he clicked his tongue to get your attention away from his hand.
“Keep your eyes on me, got it?” Leon asked in a demanding tone, leaving little to no room for debate, “I want to see how you look when you cum like this.”
“Ah,” You gulped, nodding with your cheeks brightbright red, “O-okay…”
A smile twitched on his lips at how unbelievably shy you looked; God, he loved you so much. 
His assault on your puffy clit started steady, middle and ring finger pressing persistent circles at that spot. That pierced you with pleasure, back arching with a loud whine. You tried to maintain eye contact but it was difficult – and Leon wasn’t much help because every time you shut your eyes to let yourself go in the feeling, his fingers would stop. 
He knew you were having a hard time, but he didn’t seem to care.
“F–fuck!” Your yelp hitched up in your throat, eyes widening when his two fingers sunk in deep inside your pussy.
“Eyes on me,” Leon reminded in a low voice, the pads of his fingers pressed up against that delicious spot yet not moving.
You stammered, muffling your moans, “It’s h-hard–mh,”
A smirk reached up to his lips, towering over you, “I know.”
Ruthless.
He was utterly ruthless on your cunt. He could feel his hands getting soaked by your own arousal, tightening his grip on your wrists when you instinctively twitched at the precise ministrations. The filthy squelching noise emitted loud, causing your cheeks to redden but he found them incredibly sexy.
Your legs were starting to tremble, incoherent please, and too much falling from your lips in a drunken slur. Leon watched you almost like a predator, observing how your stomach was heaving with every harsh thrust of his fingers. The fleshy part of his palm was pressed up against your throbbing clit, stroking it directly.
The knot was tightening, followed by something else. A slowly breaking dam. Involuntarily, you shook your head, attempting to shut your legs with laboured breaths but he settled his hips in the middle. 
“Le–oh fuc – Leon!” You panted, eyes screwing shut at the audible moist noise growing louder and every nerve in your lower abdomen was coiling too quickly.
“Let yourself go, baby,” Leon encouraged, going harder on your poor cunt, “Cum for me.”
It hit you like a scorching shower, covering and washing over every inch of your body and leaving it shaking in its wake. Your whole body was out of your control, whining loudly when your orgasm hummed within your bones. Black spots replaced your vision only momentarily and you could’ve sworn you almost went blind for a second.
His relentless finger fucking didn’t stop, instead, they got faster. Your gushing cum splattered onto your inner thighs and sheets, some even dropping on his grey sweatpants. It lasted forever with the way he kept fucking your soaking pussy. 
Overstimulation was sudden.
Your knees clicked together like a magnet, effectively stopping his assault. You were left breathing heavily, nearly choking on your spit as the orgasm was buzzing within your body. 
“Look at the mess you’ve made,” Leon mocked, tenderly wiping your cum over your visibly twitching clit with his middle finger poking your fluttering cunt just to watch you shiver and your walls quiver.
Your head felt heavy when you lifted it, lazily looking down when your weak legs fell back onto the bed. Under the warm and dim lights, the surface of your skin was practically glistening due to your cum. 
“Leon,” You whimpered, your hips squirming away from him to actually give your clit some rest and he could only chuckle, caressing your thigh. 
“Let’s see if we can do this again, what do you think?”
He’s out of his goddamn mind – what the fuck!?
You furrowed your brows at him reaching over to the nightstand, and he opened the drawer. Rummaging through it for a bit, he pulled out a pair of handcuffs and he stilled for a moment. He seemed a bit hesitant, but then shook his head and took out another item.
A leash.
“We’re using that too?” You asked, already breathless and you didn’t want to play with air right now. 
Leon sat back on his haunches to unlock the cuffs, releasing your wrists in the process as he answered, “Not in the way you’re thinking of, no.”
You propped yourself up on your elbows, tilting your head to the side in curiosity. He finally looked at you, gesturing with his chin for your hands.
“Give me your hands,” Leon said with a subtle hint of authority in his tone and all it did was urge you to comply as if he bewitched you – which, let’s be honest, he most likely did.
The metal felt cold on your skin, offering a small sense of relaxation on the death grip he had over your bruises. Leon clamped them shut around your wrists, eyes darting up to your face to catch any discomfort but you were nothing but content – albeit flushed red at trying this in bed.
“What’s the leash for, then?” You questioned once the handcuffs were on and you gave them an experimental tug. 
“Call it attention to detail.” He smiled, one corner of his mouth rising higher than the other, “Lay back.”
You got comfortable and he picked up the leash. He pushed your wrists back to the bars of the headboard and then proceeded to clip the leash onto the small chain in between the cuffs. He looped it over the bar and tugged. 
Suddenly, you were back in that forsaken village.
Leon instantly picked up on the subtle expression change on your face and he looked at you, eyes dark with lust. Yet, at the same time, he was concerned if he had gone too far. 
Instead, you gazed up at him helplessly; submissively. 
“Is this okay?” Leon asked, loosening the leash and giving you a chance to change your mind.
“Yeah,” You nodded, squirming a little and clenching your hands for a moment, then you smiled slightly to reassure him.
Leon returned the smile, releasing the leash to get off the bed and slip the last of his garment off. His cock stood tall and visibly heavy, pre-cum coating the angry red tip. He got back onto the bed, muffling his groans as he gently jerked his dick off, trying to ease some of the tension but he was throbbing with need.
You widened your legs comfortably to give him some space to work with as he reached for the leash and he used the other hand to drag the blunt tip of his cock all over your cunt. A sigh emitted from him, chuckling under his breath at the way your walls fluttered around nothing. 
“Always so needy for me,” He hummed, trailing his eyes up to you.
Your body felt uncomfortably hot as you shot him a glare, “Says the one who looks like he’s going to bur–shit!”
In one swift movement, Leon shoved himself into your sopping heat. With a tug of the leash, your arms were restrained above you. A choked gasp left your lips which blended sinfully with his loud moan. 
You could feel his bigbig cock near your cervix. It was twitching inside of you, surrounded by the gummy moist walls of your pussy. The pain was fiery for a couple of seconds, but it slowly shifted to piercing pleasure. 
“F–fuck...” Leon hissed, inching himself deeper and deeper into you, “So goddamn tight, you’re already trying to milk me dry, huh?”
His nose scrunched up, thrusting slowly and rubbing you so precisely and it forced moans out of you, each one louder than the other. A groan left his lips as he lowered his head slightly, gazing intently at the way your body reacted to him.
The pleasure was getting too much for you and it was heavenly. His brows furrowed at the feeling of your pussy hugging him as if refusing to let go of such a masterpiece, licking his lips with faint grunts leaving through his red lips. 
He was focused on making you feel good, tightening his grip around the leash to keep your arms up. A certain thrust made your back arch with a hitch of a breath, clenching around him instinctively. Leon almost faltered, hissing, and his free hand gripped the back of your thigh to push into you to the hilt; pelvis pressed to one another.
“God!~” You yelped, eyes snapping wide open. 
You two had barely started and you were already out of breath. God, how he made you all wired up. His big hand trailed down to your hip, digging his fingers into your supple flesh as he started to rock into you steadily. 
Audible moans came from him once his thrusts sped up. 
Skin slapping skin echoed in the room along with the squelching gushy sounds. It was utterly filthy the way your previous orgasm made your cunt so noisy, and he loved every decibel of it. His mouth watered at the sight of his cock sliding in dry and coming out coated in your cum and arousal. 
“So fucking good–ah!” You mewled loudly, grabbing into thin air as an uncomfortable tension started growing within your shoulders. 
Your body bounced with each thrust and if it were to be recorded, that would be Leon’s favourite movie. It was damn near pornographic with the way you and your moist pussy sounded. Your hips bucked up to meet his thrusts and he moved his hand to press it against your lower abdomen to keep you still.
He could feel his cock move inside of you. Blood rushed to his already painfully hard cock; the more he fucked you, the more he felt his huge cock move in perfect rhythm within you. 
“Fuuuck,” Leon drawled out lowly, head tipping back with his eyes shut to let himself go in the feeling. His thumb pushed hard against your clit, rubbing insistent small circles in that delicate pearl – directly. 
You practically shrieked when his hips went rougher on you, fucking into you so mercilessly. Leon bore his sharp eyes at you, keeping up the assault on your clit and yanking you closer and closer to your orgasm. The pleasure was thrumming within you like drums, growing louder and heavier that you felt like you could just scream.
Your chest heaved with your laboured moans, nearly sobbing, “Too much! Le–ah!”
Leon growled, not once relenting his thrusts and he sent you into your second orgasm of the night. You cried out, back arching off of the bed at the explosive sensation. Tremors ran down your legs and up your arms that had long gone numb. 
“Yeah, that’s it,” Leon muffled his moan at the dull squirting noise of his cum filling you up, eye twitching at you coming undone and he slowed down his thrusts but never stopped, cursing breathlessly under his breath at your pussy pulling every drop of his cum.
Your cum had gushed out and the lubrication of it all allowed Leon to reach you so deeply. He released your clit only to set grip your waist, fucking into you in precise thrusts to drag out both of your climaxes. You whimpered, head falling back onto the pillows with a soft moan as exhaustion was settling in. 
Then he fucked you; absolutely ravishing your poorpoor cunt with his hot cock. You shrieked and gasped, overstimulated to the peak at the way he pulsated into you. His hold on your body kept you pinned to the bed, shifting closer to your hips to force your legs wide with no room to close on him. 
The safe word was thrown out of the window. You knew he was releasing some steam, coping with the way he could’ve saved you back in the village. The bruises that tainted your skin; could’ve been prevented.
But when it came to him giving you bruises, all consensually of course, then he felt it gave him some sort of control over something. 
“Leon! Ah, ‘s too – fuck – much!~”
His dick lined up perfectly against that spongy spot in you and an animalistic snarl came from him, completely lost in the way you felt. His self-discipline pushed past the pain of his overstimulation, audibly moaning into the air as he fought the urge to stop. His hips would sometimes stutter instinctively, but he didn’t relent.
He wanted nothing but to see you cum again, and again, and again, and he wanted you to cum around him. His cock craved filling you up to the brim with its creamy climax just so he’d continue fucking into you enough to have a sheer ring around his dick of both of your cum combined. 
Leon was out of it.
His thrusts were erratic, growing disoriented and sloppy, yet he kept that delicious pounding of your spot. Your fingers curled, digging your nails into the palm of your hand. All you wanted was to touch him and paint angry red lines down his back, but all you could do was carve crimson crescent moons into your skin.
Sending you into a whining and drooling mess, your third climax was shockingly looming over the horizon. Your eyes squeezed shut at the threatening pleasure. Leon twisted the leash so it wrapped over his wrist, consequently immobilizing you completely, and he towered over you to grip the pillow next to your head as if locking your arms in place. 
His curtained bangs dangled wetly and about, the sweat making his toned body glisten under the warm lights of the bedroom. The squelching noise of his cock throttling into you would’ve made any celestial entity blush. It was nasty.
And you loved every bit.
You winced at how hard he gripped your hips but it didn’t matter when your climax hit you – and it hit you hard. You were speechless, lips parted for a silent whine and you could’ve sworn you went to heaven for a split second. 
Leon’s loud and deep moans were music to your ears, going higher and lowering in pitch when his hips rutted into you for the last few thrusts. His thighs twitched and tensed up when your cum drenched him, walls clamping around him tightly. His beautiful blueblue eyes rolled to the back of his head, toes curling over the bed sheets.
“God, fuck!” His voice ended in a hitch, arms giving in to collapse over you so his face was pressed into the crook of your neck. He wrapped an arm under your arched back to shove his cock as deep as inhumanely possible to cum deepdeep inside.
His body was shaking over you, his hips gradually slowing down as he rode both of you out of your cloud nine. His cock slid out of you, still dripping with cum and just like he craved; a sheer translucent surface of both of your orgasms was coating his cock, an erotic creamy ring at the base.
The lustful tension in the room slowly disappeared into nothing, leaving behind a sense of longingness and love. Leon breathed heavily, peppering hot and lazy kisses on your skin as he trailed them up to the corner of your mouth before planting his lips on yours. 
It was a slow but utterly passionate kiss and that was when your arms went loose, dropping over his neck like a rag doll. He pulled away slightly, nose still bumping yours and his hand reached over for the side of your numb arm. 
“You okay?” Leon murmured, caressing your skin and massaging your flesh, “Too much?”
You trembled, lips subtly quivering as you swallowed thickly, shaking your head with a cute smile, “Just… Just perfect.”
A tilted smile reach his lips at the dumbfucked look on your face and he pressed a chase kiss on your arm, eyes fluttering shut. 
“A–and you?” You whispered, fingers twitching once blood was rushing back to where it belonged, “You feeling better?”
Leon stilled, staying quiet at your question. He reached over and removed your arms from over his neck. Tapping the handcuffs lower so your wrists would be exposed, he could see his bruises painting your skin. They were redred, some even dotted with faint bleeding, possibly from all the attempts you had made to try and touch him.
Swiping his thumb over the inside of your wrist, he couldn’t help but feel a boulder toppling over his shoulders. These were his. 
He planted a kiss on either wrist, humming under his breath in a pleased tone, “Like a million bucks.”
Leon looked back up at you, pushing away your sweaty strands from your face with a sweet smile, “How do you feel about a hot shower?”
“Make it a hot bath and I’m sold.” You giggled, cradling his cheeks once your hands weren’t as numb as before.
Leon couldn’t help but laugh faintly lightheartedly, nodding as he gaze down at you. He really needed to put a ring on that finger soon. That fancy box he had hidden under his clothes wasn’t going to stay there forever.
Without you, his sweetheart, he’d have nothing to fight for. 
“Deal.”
But in the after-hours of your demanding job, Leon swore he’d make it up to you all or any lost time.
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alpinelogy · 1 month
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@hypersoft-fest week 2: sci-fi star trek au, collab with @testarossa
Lieutenant George Rusell dreamed of the stars. Ever since he was a child, he wanted to lose himself in their light, chart courses to distant galaxies and fly off to worlds unknown. His head has always been beyond the clouds, above the stratosphere, drifting through the far reaches of space. Ensign Alex Albon dreamed of fantastic planets. As a child, his imagination ran wild, drawing worlds with lilac rivers and fifteen moons, grasslands as wide and deep as oceans, plants that could talk and stones that would sing. He studied for hours, memorizing the flora and fauna of Earth and Vulcan and every planet in the federation, and still his mind wondered at the mysteries to be found on new planets. Alex and George both enlisted in Starfleet to travel the galaxy, but the realities of life on a starship didn’t quite measure up to their dazzling expectations. George was scheduled at the helm for beta shift, a time during which both he and the universe were endlessly sleepy and nothing interesting ever happened. Alex’s attempts to grow moss for water filtration were both slow and fruitless, the results of his experiments muddy and disappointing. Then of course, there was the food: replicated, bland, and often chalkier than expected.  Charting unknown depths of the galaxy wasn’t all it was cracked up to be – until the two join the landing team to the mysterious planet AMG-Zeta. There, the two discovered a life form that would alter the course of their lives, and the course of the universe. Read on for an excerpt from Astral Connection, coming this fall from Hypersoft Press.
George has volunteered for every away mission for which he’s qualified since they have entered deep space, and some of the ones he isn’t. For any trip that was dangerous enough to require a pilot, they sent Lewis, and for all the rest, George stayed on the Mercedes, fulfilling his regular rotation at the helm. It did not take a rocket scientist to keep a starship in steady orbit, so George was stuck onboard, trying not to fall asleep on the bridge, while teams of scientists and security officers and half the regular bridge crew got to explore all manner of planets.
Until today. 
Not only would George join the away team for this mission, but he would pilot the shuttle. The atmosphere around AMG-Zeta, while safe to breathe, was prone to sudden electromagnetic storms and near-constant rain that made beaming directly to the surface inadvisable. 
He was practically bouncing in his seat as he went through the final departure checks. “Are we all buckled in?” he asked, glancing back at the other members of the landing party.
One of the scientists – Adam, he thinks, or maybe Alan –gave him an amused look. “Can we stop for snacks on the way?” Alan asked.
George grinned. “Right, I’m taking that as a yes,” he said, pressing the button to radio the bridge. “Mercedes, this is Shuttle One confirming we’re clear for departure.”
“You are clear, Shuttle One,” came the staticky reply. “Enjoy your trip.”
“That we will,” George said, as he pressed the release button on the locks and allowed the shuttle to drift into open space. 
Despite the thick clouds, navigating to the surface was easy, and the landing quite smooth. George followed the rest of the team down the ramp and took his first steps onto an actual planet in months, into an oppressive mist that instantly coated their space suits. Even the miserable weather couldn’t quite dampen George’s spirits.
At least, not for the first five minutes. The team divided into smaller groups, a few of them traveling to the west to investigate the species of animals native to the planet. According to the briefing, most of the planet’s fauna were varied species of slugs. Not the most interesting subjects, in his opinion, so George stayed behind with Alan, who was on his knees on the mossy ground, his face inches away from a silvery, bell-shaped flower.
“Are you sure you should be that close?” George asked, peering down at the plant. It looked mostly harmless, but even on his very first away mission, George knew better than to trust an innocent appearance.
Alan consulted his tricorder, then looked back to the plant, then at the tricorder again. “Yeah, I think it’s fine,” he said, glancing back at George. “Hey, mind your feet.”
George looked down, then shifted his feet. He’d crumpled one of the bell-shaped flowers beneath his left foot. “Oh bollocks,” he muttered. 
Alan shot him a look, shuffling around on his knees to run his tricorder over the damaged blooms. “We’d better hope this isn’t a butterfly effect situation,” he said. “Oh, that’s odd.”
Alan’s eyes drifted slowly upward, fixed on something around George’s knees. 
“What is it?” George crouched to get a look at whatever it was Alan was looking at, then promptly sneezed as a shimmering powder blew into his face. “What is that?”
“I have no idea,” Alan said softly, studying his tricorder again. 
And here George had thought Alan was some sort of expert botanist.
It’s Alex.
What?
My name. It’s Alex. And I am a botanist, but I can’t claim to be an expert on the properties of previously undiscovered alien flora, now can I?
George blinked. The air still shimmered faintly, the pollen clinging to the heavy mist permeating the air. “Alan,” he said experimentally, earning an exasperated glare from his research partner.
“I just told you it’s Alex,” he said.
“No,” George said, staring at the plant in dawning horror. So much for AMG-Zeta being a boring little planet. “You just thought that. But I heard you.”
“That’s impossible,” Alex said, his voice faint. “Wait, okay. What am I thinking?”
George, having exactly zero telepathic experience until a minute ago, had no idea how to go about reading someone’s thoughts. He looked at Alex, focusing on his – rather handsome, really – face, watching as he broke out into a teasing grin.
You think I’m handsome?
“Oh bollocks,” George repeated, so startled by hearing Alex’s thoughts in his own head that he fell back on his ass. He probably launched even more plant spores or whatever they were into the atmosphere, and now he’d be stuck with the entire crew of the Mercedes hearing his every passing thought.
“Hey, none of that,” Alex said aloud, his voice low and soothing. “I’m an expert botanist, remember?” George nodded silently, watching as Alex clipped the plant near the roots, secured it in a vessel, and tucked the entire thing into his supply kit. “We’ll just take this back to the ship, and I’ll find a way to synthesize an antidote.” Alex looked back up at George, that smile back on his lips. “Who knows, maybe it’ll wear off in a few hours.” Or maybe it won’t, and we’ll be stuck like this forever. Could come in handy sometimes, a bit like a superpower.
You can’t be serious.
I rarely am. Alex’s smile turned wry. Looks like we’re going to learn a whole lot about each other, George.
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strawberrystepmom · 1 year
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i'll keep this short and sweet. we're having a fucking good time and we're going to keep those good times going.
we are all a part of something bigger in our jjk star wars au and why shouldn't we proudly state our place? that's why i wanna hear you talk about yours! you can write, draw, make a moodboard, paint...anything! just tell me about your corner of our galaxy.
EVENT MASTERLIST HERE
guidelines:
reader inserts, self inserts, OC's can be anything you make them. let your imagination run wild! (ps you are welcome to use the galaxy assignment i gave you if you wanna ♡)
you aren't obligated to create a pairing if you don't wish to but if you do, please keep it to jjk canon characters. you are allowed to choose whatever you want for them, my suggestions aren't law and i want you to be as creative as possible. (again, if you wanna use them though you can mwah mwah mwah)
dark content is allowed but please tag as thoroughly as you can.
if your writing exceeds 1000 words, please make use of the read more feature.
no deadline! just post it whenever and i'll put it on the list.
when you're finished with your piece - tag me and i will add it to the masterlist! easy peasy!
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margowritesthings · 1 year
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RED DEAD REDEMPTION
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⥽SERIES/UNIVERSES⥼
➵ Romeo and Juliet smut, 18+, you're an O'Driscoll, who has captured the attention of one Arthur Morgan
➵The Meaning of the Scar crossover, the tales that take place after Arthur Morgan's death, when he becomes an undead Hand of God, hunting down the supernatural
➵ Te Beroya star wars au, mandalorian!bountyhunter!Arthur, you're an outlaw, on the run across the galaxy from powerful crime families. the bounty hunter Arthur Morgan is after you.
➵ The Greatest Gift fluff, smut, some parts 18+, you give Arthur the greatest gift he could receive: his daughter
➵ Mob AU smut, 18+, Alternate Universe, Arthur Morgan runs a club in the city of Saint Denis, you're the wife he is absolutely devoted to
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⥽STANDALONES⥼
➵ Good Girl - part 1 | part 2 smut, 18+, you're riding with Arthur, never realising just how peculiar he speaks to his horse
➵ Bite Me smut, 18+, vampire AU, Arthur needs to feed, but you're trapped, and it's just the two of you...
➵ Fate: A Word Meaning Destiny angst, fluff, smut, 18+, you're a ranch hand, whose home is under attack from bandits. a mysterious stranger saves your life
➵ What's Mine Is Mine suggestive smuttiness, someone is hitting on you at the bar and Arthur must make sure everyone knows you're his
➵ Ghosts and Smoke angst, following your journey to say a final goodbye to Arthur
➵ A Job Well Done smut, 18+, when Arthur returns home from a job, you just have to reward him for doing such good work
➵ ...For They Shall Obtain Mercy angst, collab with @cowboydisaster, after your death, Arthur is diagnosed with tuberculosis. he can't wait to see you again.
➵ The Way I See You smut, fluff, 18+, Arthur helps you get past your insecurities
➵ Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow? fluff, you and Arthur decide to be honest about your secret relationship
➵ A Bit of a Mess fluff, slight angst, you and Arthur bake cookies
➵ The Long Night fluff, modern AU, when your dog is taken to the vets, Arthur is right by your side
➵ Some Company smut, 18+, a few weeks after you join the gang, you share a sleepless night with the enforcer who saved you
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➵ Mr and Mrs Macintosh fluff, you and your new husband check into the saloon for your wedding night
➵ Blood On His Hands smut, 18+, it's your time of the month, but Dutch has some insights from a Mr. Evelyn Miller to share with you
➵ Vedova Nera smut, 18+, you're a hired assassin, and eliminating Dutch van der Linde is your next assignment
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6lostgirl6 · 1 year
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Ties That Bind Part 1
Pairing: Yandere!Anakin Skywalker x Fem Jedi!Reader
TW: General Yandere Behavior, Kidnapping, Mentions of Murder
A/N: I am very excited to be sharing another wonderful collab with the amazing person @britany1997! She has been very supportive and an absolute joy to work with! We have shared many laughs together while working on this fic! She is a very talented writer and friend and you should send her your love! She deserves it! I love you Britany! ❤️
Word Count: 2.3k
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Sweat pooled around Anakin as he sprang forward in bed, gasping in a haze of fear and anger. His head fell to his hands as he struggled to catch his breath.
Sleep had eluded him for months as every night ended the same, with visions of your corpse flashing through his tortured mind. 
Anakin discarded his blanket in frustration, grabbed your picture from his work bench, and sat on the floor to meditate. 
His brow furrowed as he attempted to squash his rage and uncertainty, to let them go and let the force fill him with the comfort he needed. 
But to let go of his emotion, would be to let go of you.
Though he mumbled to himself, ‘there is no emotion, there is peace, there is no passion, there is serenity,’ he couldn’t make himself believe that. You were his peace, you were his serenity.
He abandoned his meditation in a huff. Anakin liked to think he was a patient man, a good Jedi. Yet how could he sit back and do nothing? The visions would never stop, it was time to take matters into his own hands.
Despite his failures at meditating and stopping his mind from whirling, he was struck by a solution. He was deep in concentration, staring at the ground, your picture nestled against his uncovered chest.
The visions would undoubtedly stop if he could protect you and keep you safe from harm. What if the force hadn't been working against him after all? He was immediately filled with purpose, a fire in his eyes that couldn't ever be extinguished. He will defend you even if it means doing the unthinkable and abandoning the Jedi code. 
What other reason would there be besides protecting the one you loved the most, even if it required being selfish? Absolutely nothing was of greater significance than you, his long-time friend, whom he had been pining over for many years. The forbidden feelings he could no longer ignore. There was no greater reason, no other reason, than you. 
It was all for love. 
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Despite the summons from the Chancellor, Anakin thought the Galaxies Opera House was well worth the journey through Coruscant. Though the visions of your impending death haunted him, Squid Lake, a strange ballet performed by a team of Mon Calamari acrobats, calmed his worries and enabled his mind to focus on something far more pleasant. He wished he could take you to one as lovers rather than as companions one day once you are away from harm. The Chancellor, however, required his attention once more.
His eyes were focused ahead as he said, "The Sith and the Jedi are similar in almost every way, including their quest for greater power." The Chancellor’s face bore a deep and serious expression.
“The Sith rely on their passion for their strength; they think inwards, only about themselves.” Anakin answered back firmly, turning his head towards him as he spoke.
“And the Jedi don’t?” asked the Chancellor, turning his attention towards Anakin without wavering, his eyes never leaving his face.
“The Jedi are selfless, they only care about others.” Anakin spoke strongly, turning his attention forward, just before the Chancellor continued to speak, making Anakin's blood run cold.
“Although they prevent you from loving freely in accordance with your own desires. They would never approve of your love for your friend or the things you would do for her.” He spoke with a voice filled with stomach-churning truth. “Your companion, (Y/N).”
Anakin turned to face the older man, his eyes wide with surprise as he whispered quietly. "How did you know-"
"I know many things, Anakin." He responded. "You say they are selfless and care about others. But what would the council say if they learned of your hidden desires, your affection that you have for your fellow Jedi?" 
For once, Anakin couldn't speak because the Chancellor's words struck him deeply. His eyes were fixed on the opera playing ahead of him as he slowly sunk into his chair. He wasn't watching the event, though; instead, he was fixated on his thoughts, his visions of your approaching demise, and the possibility that the council would learn of his feelings for you. They'd shun him. He couldn't save you if they were in the way. His heart was pounding, and his mind was racing. 
It was the Chancellor's voice that silenced his racing thoughts. 
“You ever hear the tragedy of Darth Plagueis the wise?” 
No, he would not let them stop him from loving you, from saving you.
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Your saber clashed against Anakin’s as you traded swipes back and forth. He smirked as you narrowly missed his shoulder. You stuck out your tongue in reply.
It’d probably be easier to spar with someone else, you and Anakin had trained together as Padawans, practically grown up together. He knew every move you’d make before you could even think to make it. But, unfortunately for him, you could anticipate his every move as well.
You leaped as he swiped his saber at your feet, “missed again Ani,” you teased. You noticed a strange expression cross his face when you uttered his name, but it quickly vanished.
“You’re lucky today,” he smirked, “but luck runs out.” Anakin swiped his foot behind yours, causing you to tumble onto your back, he stood over you, lightsaber pointed towards your chest. 
You groaned, “fine, I yield.”
He chuckled as he switched his weapon off and offered you his arm to pull you to your feet. “Better luck next time?” he teased. 
“Ha ha,” you mumbled humorlessly, as you allowed him to pull you up.
"Let's not pretend you didn't cheat, Ani." You continued jokingly. You leaned over to grab your fallen lightsaber when you failed to notice the unknown expression resurfacing on his face. However, it did not completely disappear, his darkening eyes fixated on your body, images racing through his mind of scenarios unsuitable for a Jedi.
He adored it when you addressed him as such. 
His expression returned to normal as you straightened up, and he had a mischievous smile on his face once again. "Never, ever underestimate your opponent." He chuckled as he extinguished his lightsaber and attached the hilt to his belt.
“Yeah, Yeah.” You replied, the smile refusing to vanish from your expression. 
"Come now; I only tease." Anakin remarked softly, staring at you with a more genuine smile, one that could compete with the sun if he so desired. Since you were both padawans, he has consistently been an enchanting man. He had a way of charming himself out of most trouble and making one's heart feel like it was going to burst.
This was a secret you kept hidden within your heart for many years, the sentiments you had for Anakin that were more than just friendship. However, according to the Jedi code and attachment regulations, you did everything you could to drive those emotions away. Your feelings got less difficult to disguise as you practiced meditation and late-night self-reflection. In addition, you knew in your core that Anakin was an exceptionally gifted Jedi and that your affections for him were never going to be reciprocated. 
“Everything alright?” 
You recovered from your subconscious, glancing at Anakin as he stood directly in front of you, his eyebrows furrowed in slight concern. 
"Yes, I'm sorry." You replied before reactivating your lightsaber, your eyes bright with purpose and your smile returning. "Let's continue."
After many long hours of trading blows, you and Anakin were huffing, your foreheads drenched with sweat. 
“Call it a night?” you asked as Anakin wiped his brow clean. 
“Mhmm,” he hummed in reply, “it’s late, want an escort back to your quarters?”
You laughed. He didn’t. 
“No Ani it’s fine,” you promised, “I think I can manage the couple of steps it takes to get there.”
“It’s on my way anyway,” he protested.
You shot him a confused expression, “on your way to where?” 
“To the archives,” he told you nonchalantly, “I needed to look into something.”
Your brow furrowed, “look into what?”
He groaned, tugging gently at your arm, “just let me escort you.”
“Fine, fine,” you reluctantly caved.
He offered you his shoulder, a smirk painted on his face. You scoffed and punched his arm instead, causing a soft laugh to fall from his lips. 
He smiled and shook his head at your stubbornness, you never made anything easy. But it didn’t matter, he’d never been one to back down from a challenge.
The walk to your quarters passed quickly as you exchanged stories with Anakin. You clutched your stomach as tears rolled down your cheeks as he told you the story of his last battle with General Grevious. Anakin had spent so much time with Obi Wan over the years, Anakin’s impression of his sarcastic banter was spot on.
“Well this is me,” you joked, gesturing to your door. Anakin nodded but didn’t move to head towards the archives. 
Your brow furrowed in confusion, “…so I’ll see you tomorrow?” 
He seemed to snap from his momentary trance, “yes of course,” Anakin hesitated, “do you need anything else before I go?”
Your head cocked to one side, “no, not really.” 
Walking you to your room had been strange in itself, this was ridiculous. “Ani…” you bit your lip, “are you ok?”
Anakin seemed taken aback by your sudden question, “of course,” he composed himself, “I better be off to the archives, I’ll see you for training in the morning.”
You watched him walk off before slipping into your room. You sat down to meditate, but you couldn’t rid your mind of Anakin’s weird behavior. Something wasn’t right. 
You sighed, coming to terms with the fact that you would not be one with the force tonight and crawling into bed. As you drifted to sleep a thought popped into your head.
Weren’t the archives in the opposite direction?
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Anakin sent a glass flying into his wall in frustration. He watched as it shattered, spraying shards onto the floor around his work desk. 
He threw his head into his hands. He could monopolize your training time, walk you to your quarters every night, wake up early to be at your door every morning.
But it would only take one second, one second where he left you alone, one second where he wasn’t right by your side, one second and you were gone forever. 
If he balled his fists any harder, his fingernails would slice the skin. He knew what he had to do. You might hate him for a moment, but he could live with that.
But if you died? There was no living if not with you.
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The Jedi Temple was destroyed.
Your fellow Jedi were slaughtered in cold blood. 
You could feel your heart frantically beating as you rushed through the halls of pure massacre, the walls forever tarnished by the horrors that had been committed. Fellow Jedi that you’ve trained with are lying on the floor lifeless, and some are in cauterized pieces. You felt like you could throw up at any moment, the hilt of your lightsaber held in your shaky grasp. You were in a state of delirium; your thoughts were filled with dueling lightsabers and people screaming in fear. However, there was one thing that was absolutely certain.
You needed to find Anakin.
‘Please, let him be safe.’ You thought to yourself as you managed to turn a corner, your other hand gripping your ribcage, your heart threatening to explode. ‘By the force, please protect him.’ 
You were anxious to find him, yet filled with dread. Your mind was racing with images of his form in pieces, his eyes lifeless without any warmth. It almost made the journey too much to bear. 
You rounded another corner that led towards the entrance of one of the temple’s many great halls. As you pushed through the entrance, a heavy feeling filled your chest, and you were completely unable to go any further. Your eyes were wide, and you could feel your breath failing you. 
As you gazed into the distance, you noticed a familiar figure, clad in a brown robe with a hood covering his face, that you had never failed to recognize, even at a distance. As the figure walked towards you, a large group of clone soldiers followed behind him, weapons drawn. In his hand was his own lightsaber, which he clutched tightly in his grasp.
Anakin.
"Ani!” You cried, disengaging your lightsaber and rushing towards him with tears in your eyes, prepared and ready to meet him with a sense of relief. 
You threw your arms around him, tears rolling down your face as you sobbed. He returned your embrace, arms wrapping around the small of your back, pulling you into his chest.
“Ani,” you muttered between sobs, “I’m so glad you’re ok, I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you.”
He tightened his grip on your waist, holding you close, “I know what you mean…”
You sniffled as you tried to gather yourself, “Anakin, so many lives…” you hiccuped, “what happened.”
“Only what needed to.”
“What?” you exclaimed as you looked up to meet his eyes. 
The sight of his blood stained face made you gasp. No. This wasn’t the Anakin you knew. This couldn’t be happening.
But it was. The man you’d carried a torch for all these years, your best friend and confidant, stood before you, clothed in the blood of your friends.
You pushed against his chest, trying to escape from his grasp but he refused to let you go. He held you tightly against him with one arm, using his other hand to brush hair from your face affectionately. A gesture that once would have made you blush now filled you with malice.
“I know you don’t understand now, but you will my love,” he whispered, “now sleep.”
“Anakin…no…” you fought a losing battle to keep your eyes open. You were strong in the force, but Anakin was stronger.
Your head lulled to the side as you fell asleep in his arms.
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Taglist:
@prettywhenibleed @leiasolo77 @britany1997 @misslavenderlady @arianamhm @rottent33th @slaasherslut
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fandom · 1 year
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Another year, another banger of a Eurovision.
In a stunning upset, Sweden's Loreen beat out Finland's Käärijä to take the top spot at the Eurovision Song Contest. The Legend of Zelda: Tears of the Kingdom is finally here and the wait was worth it—don't forget to tag or filter spoilers if you don't want to see the absolutely bonkers builds everyone is making. With only three episodes left, season three of Ted Lasso continues to deliver on its multiple emotional arcs. It was a surprising election night on Succession this week. Trigun Stampede trended after Twitter user Bigolas Dickolas Wolfwood inadvertently turned the 2019 novel This Is How You Lose the Time War into a bestseller. Finally, we got the Tony Hawk x Amaury Guichon collab we didn't know we needed. This is Tumblr's Week in Review.
The Eurovision Song Contest
The Legend of Zelda: Tears of the Kingdom
Ted Lasso
Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 3
Succession
Trigun Stampede
Käärijä
Queen Charlotte: A Bridgerton Story
Yellowjackets
Artists on Tumblr
The Owl House
Critical Role
Finland
Stranger Things
9-1-1
UK Politics
Dracula Daily
Taylor Swift
Tony Hawk
Batman | the DC universe
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745 notes · View notes
the-boy-meets-evil · 1 year
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can't run away | vernon
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summary: running is the only life you've ever known. running away from your home planet, running away from anyone that gets too close, running away from officials, running from other smugglers. it's not easy but it's better than the pain that comes with staying in place and definitely better than getting caught. everyone has heard of you but nobody actually knows you. the last thing you want is to take on a passenger, especially when that passenger is a robot from one of the most popular groups in the universe. why would you let him stay when nobody else ever has? pairing: ai!vernon x smuggler!afab!reader word count: 15.6k genre: sci-fi au, angst, fluff (?) warnings/content: vernon is an automaton, reader is a smuggler (across the galaxy), references to injury (when vernon escapes, to reader as well), questionable methods of finishing a job (reader), suggestions/implications of sex/hook-ups (reader x unnamed characters), questionable legality on the jobs, exploring emotions for automatons, fights, open/ambiguous ending rating: mature (this is SFW but i prefer only people 18+ interacting with my blog) a/n: thank you so much to @idyllic-ghost for this incredible collab and this banner. i don't think i would've written a sci-fi fic otherwise and it's been so much fun. check out all the other amazing fics here! also thank you to the loml @hot-soop for *volunteering* to read through this fic. you're an angel. finally, thank you to @strawberryya for letting me use your brain and your planet.
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“100 years ago it was thought that the Earth, as we know it, would disintegrate. That the sun would implode and leave everything in darkness. Miraculously, it didn’t. Due to some external force, human scientists still haven’t agreed upon what it exactly was, none of the planets in our former solar system were ever destroyed. The Earth, along with the other planets, were pushed away from each other, and ended up in different parts of the universe. Earth just happened to come to a solar system with alien life. At first, we were cautious, and people were prepared to fight. However, the aliens were welcoming of our planet. Those of us who didn’t die from ‘The Great Journey’ or from trying to fight the aliens, were welcomed into the new solar system. Soon enough, we had integrated completely, and we received materials and assistance from our sister-planets in exchange for human labor. What humans knew of technology was very limited, but with the resources of the aliens we created artificial life forms. We named these robots Automaton, and they served as workers when humans couldn’t. Eventually, there was no need for human labor at all. To pay back for the help the aliens gave us, we used Automatons. With the extensive development of these robots, we eventually managed to create artificial sentient life. These Automatons were human-like in looks and had human consciousness, but they could not bleed and were stronger than we ever could be. At the present time, there are even different levels of Automatons. Level 3 robots are the workers, level 2 robots are the caretakers, and level 1 robots are the celebrities. The Automaton music group 53V3NT33N (SEVENTEEN) is made up of 13 members, all very talented, and all representing two human states of mind.”
*+:★:+━━━+:★:+━━━+:★:+*
“Chirron,” you call and wait for his hum to let you know he’s listening, “we have to go. Like 10 minutes ago.”
“Why don’t you try something helpful?” he shoots back at you. 
“The last time I got near the controls, you slapped my hands and shrieked,” you answer.
“I did not, it was not a shriek,” he hisses. He’s not really offended, it’s just how the two of you are. You’ve run hundreds of jobs together at this point and there’s nobody else you’d trust. And certainly nobody that’s better at getting your ship in the air and away from trouble. “And it was for a good reason. You’re a menace to society and to the controls, specifically.”
“Every button looks the same,” you huff.
“Will you just shut it for 2 seconds so I get us off this awful planet?” Chirron asks.
“Hey, this is my home planet!” you protest. You’re not sure why you’re distracting him like this when you want to leave just as badly as he does. Need to for the sake of your job.
“I swear to…” he says and stops to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Just a minute, I’m begging you.”
There’s a retort about begging on the tip of your tongue, something you know will get under Chirron’s skin. Something you know better to say and are going to say anyway. Really, what’s the worst he could do? Except just as you’re about to say it, someone comes rushing in through the open door of your ship.
Chirron seems to register the newcomer, but says nothing. In fact, he goes back to working on one of the control panels that’s currently preventing you from leaving the planet. That leaves you to deal with this new person. Or…no, could he be an automaton? There’s something familiar about him that you can’t quite place. There’s also something that doesn’t scream human about him. Maybe the blue hair or the way he moves through expressions. He looks relieved now even though you’re a complete stranger. 
“Please, help me,” he rushes out, already moving from relief into something else. He reaches out to take your hands in his and you barely have time to register it. “I’m begging you, I’ll do anything.”
Your first instinct is to flatly tell him that you won’t help him, that you can’t. After all, you’re not exactly the type anyone looks to when they need help. A fact Chirron is always quick to point out. But, you also see that this could present an interesting opportunity for someone such as you. And maybe now you can make some begging jokes without getting your head bitten off.
“And just what are you willing to do?” you ask, arch an eyebrow as you watch the expressions cross his face. 
“Oh, well I can…you know, I could…” he sputters along and you laugh. 
Just as you’re about to take pity on him, you see a rush of guards coming through the spaceport. It’s the last thing you want to see. Your papers are solid and you’ve already made the very real excuse of needing to fix one of your systems before leaving the planet. Then again, you’ve had enough close calls for a lifetime and you’re not really looking to add another one to that list.
As you watch, the guards talk to some other people milling about in the spaceport. The man who rudely burst onto your ship seems to catch that you’re watching something and immediately ducks down. If you weren’t a little nervous about the guards coming aboard, it would be comical. He’s literally not even hiding behind anything.
“They lookin’ for you?” you ask quietly and clock the answer in his eyes before he even opens his mouth.
“I think so,” he says. 
You sigh and ignore Chirron looking back at you. “Back that way, there’s a door in the wall on your left. Nobody ever knows it’s a door, but run your hand on the wall, you’ll feel it.”
“What?” he asks.
“Go,” you hiss and walk towards the open door.
It’s perfecting timing, too, because two of the guards are approaching. One of them, thankfully, is one you’ve dealt with before. And it’s mostly been positive. At least you know he can’t seem to stay away when you breeze in and out of this part of the planet. With any luck, he’s in a good mood. 
“Thought that was your ship,” he says with a smirk, ignoring the look from the other guard. 
“Guilty,” you smile. “Always nice to see you, Kyun.”
“You two know each other?” the other guard asks skeptically. 
“Sure, she runs cargo,” Changkyun says. You can’t fully fight the smile because you know it means you’re safe after all. The two of you have spent enough time in his bed, post hook-up, for him to know that’s not the whole story.
“And I would be gone already because we’re behind schedule, but we had a little mechanical trouble,” you say, laying on the act a little thick. 
“Need a hand?” Changkyun offers. 
“We’re supposed to be asking about someone,” the other guard reminds him. 
“It’s fine, we’ve got it handled anyway,” you say and send Changkyun a flirty smile before turning to his partner. “Ask away.”
“Have you seen an automaton running through here? Blue hair, about this tall, wearing a plain white shirt,” he asks and you pretend to think for a second. 
“There’s been a lot of people coming through,” you offer apologetically. “I think I did see someone with bright hair rushing off in that direction. Could’ve been blue.”
“You’re sure about the hair color?” the other guard asks. 
“Not really, it happened fast. But it could’ve been blue,” you shrug and then look like you’ve realized something. “Wait, there isn’t a reward is there?”
“Last I heard, you were doing fine,” Changkyun says and you smile as his partner walks off to share your info with a group of guards. 
“Can’t blame a girl for trying,” you say with a wink. 
“Make sure you come by next time you’re here,” Changkyun says with that look you’ve seen before. 
“I will, promise,” you say. 
“Have a safe flight!” he calls. He’s already heading off to join his partner. 
When he looks back, you wave. For good measure, you look over your shoulder like Chirron said something and nod. You’re closing the hatch with a last wave to Changkyun. Once you’ve also made sure the shields to protect anyone from seeing in are activated, you head back to find your new friend. 
“Seems like people are looking for you,” you say when you open the door.
You don’t bother waiting to see if he’s going to follow you when you walk back towards Chirron at the front of the ship. The blue haired man, who still hasn’t introduced himself, follows you instantly and then ducks when he sees the windshield in front of him.
“They can’t see you,” Chirron says in a bored voice. Mostly likely unimpressed by a decision you don’t actually remember making.
“You almost done?” you ask again.
“Yes, actually, that little disruption got you to leave me alone long enough to fix it,” he says with a glare at you. “Now be quiet again.”
“So rude,” you say quietly without any bite.
“Control, Vega Three requesting clearance for take off,” Chirron states over the communication system.
“Clearance granted,” comes an immediate response. 
“Finally,” you say and take your seat next to Chirron. You twist over your shoulder to look at your unexpected guest. “I’d buckle in if I were you, sweetheart.” 
“Are you…are we taking off?” he asks, seemingly unable to sit still.
“Unless you had a different idea when you tried to sneak onto a ship,” you respond. 
“But you don’t…” he begins.
“You’ve got your reasons for wanting to get off this planet, and we’ve got ours, best to discuss those once we’re actually off the planet. So, strap in,” you instruct.
The stranger in question doesn’t need to be told a third time, thankfully. He slides into the seat behind Chirron and buckles himself in. With a sideways glance at you to confirm he’s clear, Chirron uses the recently repaired controls to get you going and safely off this planet. Even though it’s your home planet, and you definitely can linger, this job is a little sensitive. You really can’t afford to be late on the delivery, though your reputation with this buyer is spotless. It only stays spotless as long as you finish your jobs as quickly and discreetly as possible. 
If you expect the stranger to say something as Chirron navigates you out of the spaceport and into the air, you’re left wanting. When you look back, you find him relaxed back into the chair. It’s like he’s completely at ease. Or maybe just feeling a lot of relief that you let him stay on board. Or even relief that you lied to the guards. Something you do often, though he doesn’t know that. His eyes close as Chirron types in the course to autopilot until you get close to your destination. 
While the stranger rests, something kind of surprising to you given that he doesn’t know you at all, you briefly wonder if it’s sleep or just a sort of recharging. Chirron claims your attention and you quietly discuss your plans for once you get to your destination. Salax is known for…discretion. People don’t tend to ask that many questions there because of the types of humans and aliens alike that follow their desires there. But, since it’s a place for your deepest desires, people are also wary of suspicious behavior. You’ve spent plenty of time there, both for your own pleasure or, like now, for a job. 
The downside to this planet, though? It’s the type of place no robot would ever be seen. Certainly not a Level 1. They’re far too pure for that. And judging by the number of guards employed, and the fact that you were on Earth, you’re willing to bet your new passenger is a Level 1. So that’s going to add its own unique set of challenges. Something that has you buzzing with adrenaline, but has Chirron looking sterner than usual. 
“We need to know who he is,” Chirron repeats quietly.
“And we will,” you answer easily.
“If he’s a Level 1…” Chirron starts before trailing off.
“What? You’ll turn me over for the reward you asked about?” the stranger asks. You’re a little startled because you didn’t realize he had woken up. Or stopped resting, whatever.
Chirron scoffs as he takes in your amusement. “No.”
“It’s not a ridiculous question,” he insists.
“It is if you know her,” Chirron says and nods in your direction. 
“Why? You’re wondering if I’m a Level 1 so you know how high the reward is,” he insists and you finally take pity on him.
“No, I have no intention to collect some reward for you, if one even exists,” you confirm. 
“But why?” he asks. He’s fidgeting in his seat like he can’t sit still. It’s interesting to see when he was resting so peacefully without moving.
“Because,” Chirron interjects, clearly intent to take away any fun, “she prefers not to deal in things as meaningless as currency or credits.” 
“How do you live?” he asks, genuine curiosity coloring his face. 
“I’ve got enough credits to keep us going for years,” you answer vaguely.
“What else is there to work for?” the stranger wonders. 
You turn your seat fully so it’s facing him and lean forward, dropping your voice a little. “So many things, sweetheart. Favors, information, gossip…secrets.” 
His eyes go wide, like it’s something he’s never considered before. And he probably hasn’t. If he’s a Level 1, and you’d bet your ship that he is at this point, then this is so wildly out of normality for him. The Level 1s are pristine, like the celebrities of the galaxy living in luxury with someone to help keep them functioning at the highest levels. They’ll never see the types of jobs that Level 3s see, those jobs that nobody else wants to do. They’ll never work the way that Level 2s do, or have to work for humans in that way. Which isn’t to say their lives are perfect. It’s just not the kind of life where they see the dirty types of jobs that you and Chirron are used to. 
“Why don’t you give me a name, sweetheart? Unless you prefer the pet name, which is fine by me,” you say.
He hesitates, before saying, “Vernon.”
You and Chirron look at each other, like you’re both wondering why this automaton seems familiar and why everyone is looking for him.
“Well, V3RN0N actually, from 53V3NT33N,” Vernon adds.
And that makes everything fall into place. Not that you pay much attention to groups of performers like that, it’s kind of hard when you’re constantly on the move, but everyone in the galaxy knows them. Everyone in the galaxy also knows that the members just…disappeared. There isn’t much information, at least not from reputable sources, about what happened. Thankfully for you, you don’t really deal in reputable sources. So you’ve heard your fair share about the escapes, each tale sounding a little wilder than the last. You at least know someone is desperate to find all 13 of the automatons, given how popular the group is. Or maybe it’s because they’ve resorted to asking in places they’d normally never be caught to find information.
When you assure Vernon that your previous statement still stands, that you’re far more interested in your form of currency than any reward you’d get from turning him in, he relaxes a bit again. He’s worried, still, that he admitted to complete strangers who he really is, but you give him your real names. You tell him what you actually do, despite Chirron’s protests. That’s when he starts telling you all about the escape. The way that he got away, the way he doesn’t know what happened to his other members, the way he hopes they’re all okay too. 
It’s a little depressing and a lot too close to home for you to hear what life was actually like for Vernon and the other Automatons in his group. Not that you’ve ever been famous or had people across the galaxy expecting you to perform, but you know a thing or two about someone else making your decisions. Chirron knows it too, knows your story intimately, so he probably also sees where this is going before you do. 
It’s difficult, you think, to listen to Vernon talk about his experiences and why he chose to run. Humans and aliens had worked together to create these new beings. Perfected them until they were indistinguishable from humans and even gave them emotions. Yet beings like Vernon and his group are expected to just perform. To essentially serve at the wishes of the public for entertainment value. Have to uphold the highest standards and can’t ever do something that would look bad. Have to remain pure, whatever that means. 
From there, you come up with a plan. One that will at least give you time to come up with some next steps on Salax. Vernon is restless again when you share your destination. Of course he’s never been there, but he knows all about it. It’s hard to tell if he’s just nervous that he’ll look out of place or if he’s curious about what actually happens there. In either case, you need to make sure he’s prepared for the stop. There isn’t much choice anyway, you’re on a schedule and he’s just an unexpected passenger. Before he can continue protesting, you send him to the back of the ship to look through the clothes and accessories. Anything to hide who he is.
“He’s not you, you know,” Chirron offers.
“I know that,” you answer.
“Do you?” From anyone else, the question might sound accusatory. From Chirron, it only sounds concerned. 
You sigh. “I do, but what they put him through is awful.”
“He’s an Automaton,” Chirron reminds you.
“I’m well aware,” you say with a slight snap to your words. “You heard him, though. And you’ve seen the Automatons we’ve come across. It’s different.”
“Does he know what you’re going to tell them when we get to Salax?” Chirron asks, switching tactics. 
“Do you?” you ask back.
“An overly sheltered Automaton on Salax?” Chirron raises an eyebrow at you. “You’re going to bring him along as your ‘date’ who’s just testing the waters to see if it’s his thing.”
“I am not that predictable,” you retort. But you don’t disagree because you can’t.
“What else would you say?” Chirron asks.
“I don’t know, I just hope it works,” you say.
“Luckily for him, you’re a frequent visitor,” Chirron says with a shrug.
You decide to let that comment lie. Partly because you don’t want to argue with Chirron too loudly and draw Vernon’s attention. Partly because he’s not entirely wrong. You do like to spend time on Salax, looking for things that you can’t find when you’re constantly on the move. Looking for people that don’t expect you to be there when they need you. That’s something you can’t do. Chirron would ask ‘can’t or won’t’, but the difference hardly matters.
After another minute you go and check on Vernon because you really do need to get going. For a number of reasons. He’s dressed and looking like he’ll at least moderately fit in at the club you’re taking him to. It’s clear he still wants to stay on the ship, or to go with Chirron, but you remind him that won’t work. Chirron is leaving the ship to get supplies for after your errands and to make sure you’re ready to leave the planet. Even without Vernon, you don’t want to linger. Not this time. Going with Chirron to run errands would be even more suspicious. He so rarely has anyone around when he’s anywhere, let alone Salax. He keeps to himself so the appearance of a beautiful stranger would be out of character. No, it’s much easier to have Vernon with you. You’re much more likely to have someone around on this planet. And you’re certainly had enough beautiful strangers with you on Salax to blend in. You ignore the way Vernon reacts each time you call him beautiful because, really, it’s just a fact.
Vernon tags along a half step behind you when you leave the ship. You’re considering telling him to walk beside you when you think you might as well sell it. If you’re going to be telling people that he’s your pet, just someone you picked up for the time being, then it makes sense that he wouldn’t walk quite beside you. 
This club is so familiar to you. Once you’re inside, you make your way to one of the back rooms, the same room you always meet your client in every time she hires you. Nobody asks questions as it is, but certainly not of her when she books private rooms. You know she’ll be seeing someone else before or after you. Or both, knowing her. 
Thankfully, Vernon keeps his head down like you told him to while you’re winding your way through. You offer the occasional smile or nod as you see people that you know, people you’ve worked with professionally and people you know personally. Some look at your companion, but nobody says anything. Both you and Chirron were right. Though this puts Vernon in contact with more people, it’s far less conspicuous. Besides, with his hat and clothing, nobody would guess he was a Level 1. 
Circe is waiting in her back room, sprawled out on her lounger when you enter, surprisingly alone. Then again, she probably got word when you landed and then again when you entered the club. As usual, she looks completely stunning in her figure hugging outfit. It’s enough to send anyone’s mind into overdrive.
“My, my, darling,” she says as she takes in both you and your companion. “I would scold you for keeping me waiting, but you’ve brought company.”
“You know I’d never dream of keeping you waiting,” you say with a smile at her. “We were…held up a bit. Had some ship trouble.”
“And picked up a new toy,” she comments. “Please, sit.”
“Ah yes, well he’s…curious about expanding his horizons,” you say with a glance at him. The two of you sit in front of her.
“Maybe we can share,” Circe offers and you chuckle.
“Circe, love, he’s nowhere near ready for that,” you answer.
“Always keeping your prettiest toys from me,” Circe pouts.
“Now you know that’s not true,” you chastise. “The last time I was here for fun rather than work…”
“Was very fun, that’s true,” Circe concedes. “Should I assume you’re not staying around this time, then?”
“I’m afraid not,” you say and inject as much sincerity as you can.
“Would that happen to be because he’s one of those escaped Automatons?” Circe plays it off like idle curiosity and you only smile fondly.
“If he were, what kind of fool would I be to bring him here?” you wonder.
“The kind that does trust me despite your insistence that you trust nobody other than yourself and Chirron,” she answers without missing a beat.
“Well,” you shrug.
“I thought…” Vernon says quietly to you.
“Relax, whoever you are is no concern of mine. She knows I won’t blow your secret because I know that there’s nobody better in the galaxy than her at what she does,” Circe says softly.
“You flatter me,” you say. This time the sincerity comes in earnest.
Circe waves it off like it’s nothing. You also know she means what she said. “I assume you have what I sent you off for?”
“Of course,” you respond and reach into your bag.
“This is why I protect her,” Circe says, leaning forward like she’s sharing a secret with Vernon. “I’ve never met anyone that can do a sensitive job for me like she can.”
“And have you met a lot of people?” Vernon asks.
Circe’s eyes sparkle. “You may be one of the only ones who can understand when I say thousands, probably.”
You watch the interaction for a moment because it’s so mundane, so simple. Shaking your head to clear the scene, you hand over a small device. Circe takes it and examines it for a second, looking over the markings on the side. Her smile is almost instant.
“This looks full,” she comments.
“It is,” you answer.
“How sensitive is the material?” Circe asks. 
You hesitate and look over at Vernon. “I wouldn’t watch it with just anyone. There’s…well I don’t have to tell you that people get more honest when they’re in compromising situations.” 
This seems to amuse Circe as she watches you form your words. It’s different from how you usually are and it’s entertaining. “Are you in it?” 
“No,” you answer with a little laugh. “Someone owed me a very big favor. Well owes me several favors, actually. He’s not off the hook yet.”
“I’ve known you for years and I still don’t think I understand the extent of your network,” Circe observes. 
“Probably not,” you acknowledge.
“And what about you, my little mystery, what do you owe her?” Circe asks Vernon.
“I’m…” he starts, looks over at you for guidance. “I’m not sure yet.” 
“That’s dangerous,” Circe adds. 
“We haven’t really figured…” Vernon begins, still very nervous. “She got me off Earth.”
“That’s actually part of what I needed to talk to you about. I need to get him an introduction to someone,” you say. Circe’s eyes turn back to you.
“To whom, darling?” she asks.
“I’m not sure,” you admit. “I need a recommendation. Someone that you trust that can help him disappear. Help him reappear as someone new.” 
Circe regards the pair of you for a moment. Probably a moment too long for Vernon’s comfort. “I can’t help you.”
Your frustration gets the better of you before you even consider the why. “Can’t or won’t?” 
“Pumpkin,” Circe says, full of affection and patience that you’re not sure you deserve. “I know the kind of favors you’re offering for something like this. I’d be stupid to turn it down if I could help you, but unfortunately I like you too much to pull the wool over on you.”
“Why can’t you help?” This, at least, comes out calm.
“I’m not sure where to turn, not now at least. There are too many people looking for him,” Circe admits.
You sigh heavily at that. In the seven years that you’ve known Circe, this is a first. It’s the first time you’ve ever presented her with a problem that she couldn’t solve. It leaves you feeling a little helpless, a feeling that you really don’t enjoy. Maybe she takes a little bit of pity on you because she does tell you to see one of her workers before you leave. He can help Vernon look a little different, at least. That’s all she can do, though, and she knows she’s still going to owe you after this. 
So you’re going to have to take Vernon with you, at least for now. You feel some amount of responsibility, even though he jumped onto your ship. But he’s far too sheltered for this life, too innocent, too naive. He isn’t hard around the edges like you, doesn’t know that he can’t trust anyone, hasn’t been hurt by people he depended on. 
You finish up the conversation with Circe and say your goodbyes. It completely slips your notice that Vernon isn’t right behind you when you head out the door.
“Wait a moment,” Circe says, lightly grabbing Vernon’s arm.
He looks down at the place her hand touches his arm before meeting her eyes again. The confusion on his face must be clear.
“Be careful with her,” Circe says. Vernon’s eyebrows only knit further in confusion. “I love her dearly, but it always comes at a price. She’s the kind of girl you’d name one of those hurricanes after back on Earth.”
“I’m not sure…” Vernon tries to begin. Circe waves a hand to quiet him.
“She’s wild and wonderful,” Circe says with a soft smile that only lingers a second. “But she will destroy everything in her path.”
Vernon is about to say something when you pop your head back through the door. “There you are, come on. We should really get going.”
Vernon looks back at Circe, tries to make some kind of sense of what she said. It’s pointless, though, and instead he just follows you out without a word.
If Vernon is expecting you to head straight back to the ship, he’s mistaken. You wind through the hallways like you’ve been through a hundred times before. Which is entirely possible, it’s not like Vernon knows much about you or your history. He just knows he couldn’t navigate back out if he got lost, so he stays close. It’s not that has a bad memory, it’s just that his brain is currently on overdrive. He’s thinking about what Circe said about you. But he’s also just taking in all the things he never even knew existed.
It doesn’t seem like you’re heading anywhere, even when you stop. The room is empty except for a large desk in the center. Vernon wants to ask what it is you’re doing. One look at your face tells him not to. You quickly reach into one of the drawers, like it’s the most normal thing, and pull out another device that looks like the one you gave to Circe. You stow the device in a pocket that Vernon hadn’t even noticed and make your way back out without another word.
In fact, you don’t speak again until you’re back on the ship. Vernon has a second to note that Chirron is missing before you head to the control panel and start pressing buttons. The door closes and something seems to shift with the windshields. It’s like the ship is going into some sort of shut down. You walk back past Vernon to a table and slide into one side of the booth. Vernon takes the cue and slides in across from you.
“So that didn’t exactly go as planned,” you observe. 
“You were expecting her to help,” Vernon says and you nod. 
“Circe knows everyone, has eyes and ears everywhere, so it’s…well I don’t want to scare you, but it’s concerning that she can’t help hide you,” you say.
“Maybe I should just go back,” Vernon wonders out loud.
“Look, you ran away for a reason and I know the kind of desperation it takes to just…run onto some random ship,” you let him know. “I’m not really sure why I’m helping, but I’m going to help. There’s just one rule.”
“What is it?” Vernon asks. He already knows he’s going to agree.
“Whatever I say, you have to follow,” you say. It sounds so simple, Vernon is sure there’s some kind of catch when you continue. “If I say run, you run. If I say hide, you hide. If I say leave me behind, you have to.”
“But…” Vernon starts and you shake your head.
“I’m going to try to find a solution, but I have to keep working too. And this isn’t exactly a safe line of work,” you tell him.
“I’d gathered,” he says before he can stop himself. You chuckle.
“At least you’re observant,” you say.
Since Chirron isn’t back yet, you send off a quick message to him that you’re going off the ship for one more quick stop. That you’ll be back within the hour and ready to go if he is. With that out of the way, you take Vernon to see Circe’s friend about blending in a little better. You’re just hoping that this isn’t going to be a waste. And also hoping that nobody recognizes him in the meantime because the last thing you need is for your name to be plastered next to his.
*+:★:+━━━+:★:+━━━+:★:+*
Two hours later, you’re all back on the ship and taking off. With a quick message to Circe, you thank her and request that she keep you updated if she hears anything interesting. Thankfully, she seems to know what that means and there’s nobody better to keep an eye out. Vernon looks different, too. His hair is a different color and style, his eyes are no longer the same shade, his clothing is entirely different, even some of the shape of his face is different. Despite his protests, you also got him a face mask and sunglasses to wear. Although he thinks that it’ll make him stand out, you insist that in your line of work, it’s standard.
Although you know you need to talk, you tell Vernon that it’s time for you all to get at least a little sleep. Chirron put it on the slow track to allow everyone a chance to rest before getting to their next stop. It’s standard practice for the two of you, but entirely foreign to Vernon. 
Once you wake up again, it’s time to talk. “We need a story.” 
You, Chirron, and Vernon are sitting at the table in the main part of the ship. The ship itself is on autopilot to your next stop, which Chirron says will take at least 3 more hours.
“Better late than never, I guess,” Chirron says.
“Would you stop being grumpy?” you fire back.
“No,” Chirron answers without hesitation.
“Uh, a story for what?” Vernon interrupts.
“Who you are and why we’ve let you join our missions.” Chirron gives the straightforward answer before you can be a smartass. 
“Does there need to be a story?” Vernon asks, causing Chirron to sigh.
“Yes, there does,” is all Chirron says.
You shoot him a look. “Our entire livelihood depends on us staying off the wrong radars, which we’ve been good at. But it also depends on our current…clients continuing to trust us. You’re new. And while our reputation is excellent, we tend to deal with a lot of people who value privacy and secrecy over everything.”
“So she can’t just tell them we’ve picked up a rogue celebrity on the run and just go with it,” Chirron says.
“Maybe I should just…” Vernon starts.
“What? Get off the ship and try to hide on your own?” you wonder. 
“I don’t know,” Vernon says.
“Remember what I said when you got on the ship? The one rule is to do what I say?” Vernon nods at your question. “That’s still in effect, sweetheart.”
“So what’s the plan?” Chirron asks you.
“What are you good at? Besides singing and dancing?” You direct this question at Vernon.
“Rapping, not singing,” Vernon corrects quietly. “What?” you ask.
“I rapped, I didn’t sing,” Vernon tells you. “And I produced some of our tracks. In my free time, when I actually got it, I played a lot of games.” 
You’re looking at Vernon like he just handed you the easiest line and he doesn’t realize it. His head is down, he’s not confident about anything he said. But you know better. You know that he just handed you the perfect solution.
“You any good with tech, then?” You try to throw out the question casually. 
Chirron actually approaches a smile then. He knows where this is going and enjoys the way Vernon’s head pops up. It’s almost endearing the way his eyes go wide and he looks innocent again.
“Uh, yeah, I’m decent with it. I, well I used to try and practice any time I could get my hands on any tech. I had to use all the programs to produce the songs, so I got pretty good at it,” Vernon says.
“Chirron, I’d like you to meet our new tech specialist,” you announce and Chirron chuckles. 
“Bout time I didn’t have to stumble my way through reprogramming shit,” Chirron says.
“I don’t know,” Vernon says.
“Look, I’ve got plenty of old tech on the ship that you can practice on. After the next job, we’d planned a break anyway. So, for real, I won’t pick up anything new…” you start to outline.
“Thank fuck,” Chirron whispers, silenced by your look.
“And we can lay low at our place while you figure out if you’re really our new tech guy,” you say. 
“Your place?” Vernon asks.
“Yeah, I mean we’re not always on the move,” you say with a shrug. 
“Okay, might as well try, I guess,” Vernon says.
“That’s the spirit,” you encourage.
Vernon shits in his seat and winces. It’s the first time that you’re actually looking at the way his body moves. You hadn’t even looked when he changed or when he had his appearance worked on, hadn’t checked for injuries or done any of that. You’re not used to having someone new around. For all yours and Chirron’s faults, both of you trust the other and know well enough to admit if you’ve been hurt. This new addition doesn’t.
He winces again and runs a hand over his chest, something he clearly hopes you don’t notice. You do, though. His eyes meet yours and he looks scared, like he’s still not sure if he can trust you. Like he’s still on edge with every move.
“Are you okay?” you ask, voice gentle so you don’t scare him.
“This is all a bit weird to get used to,” Vernon answers.
“That’s not what I meant,” you level. 
“It’s nothing,” he insists. 
“Vernon, if we’re all gonna be in this, then you have to tell us what’s going on,” you say with as much care as you can muster. Certainly more care than Chirron is used to.
“It’s not that bad, it could be a lot worse, it’s just…well it’s the communication device that I used to have. My manager, he had to stay behind, he’d been loosening it for weeks so it wasn’t as painful when it came out but I had to run before he could finish. And I almost got caught trying to have someone fix it for me,” Vernon says. 
“You’re going to need to let us see,” Chirron says. Vernon looks between the two of you before he lifts his shirt over his head. Beneath it, he’s wearing a bandage that wraps around his body. You lean forward to start unwinding the wrapping, needing to get a look. It’s weird, you think, to brush your fingers against his skin and have it feel so much like your own. Weirder still is seeing the partial hole leftover in his chest. You can see where some of the edges need to be smoothed and where he needs to keep it covered. Vernon doesn’t seem nervous under your touch, which reminds you that he’s not actually human, despite how much his upper body seems like he would be. 
“Chirron, can you go get me my toolkit?” you ask.
“What are you going to do?” Vernon asks suspiciously. 
“I’m going to do everything I can to make it more comfortable while we’re on the ship and then we can figure out next moves once we land,” you say.
“You don’t know what you’re doing,” Vernon protests and you just raise an eyebrow. 
Chirron reappears with a box and stifles a chuckle at the scene. “I wouldn’t be so sure.”
“How do you know what to do?” Vernon tries a different question.
“She worked as a Automaton mechanic for almost a year,” Chirron answers, taking your fun of torturing him away.
“I thought you were a criminal,” Vernon admits and this does make Chirron laugh. You join in. 
“I’m a lot of things, sweetheart, I’ve lived a very full life,” you say and don’t offer any further explanations. 
*+:★:+━━━+:★:+━━━+:★:+*
Back home, you get settled and suggest you all get some rest before you decide on next moves. You know that Vernon doesn’t actually sleep now, but you also know he has to recharge. Which is all sleep is anyway, so you send him off to his own area to recharge. Once you’re all awake again, Chirron helps you come up with a more permanent solution to the whole where Vernon’s communication device used to be. It’s painful, you know that it’s painful for him and you wish you could help. But you can’t. All you can do is help him through it and know that when you’re done, he shouldn’t be in pain anymore. He takes even longer to recharge after you’re done. When he emerges, though, he does feel a lot better and he’s incredibly thankful.
It’s been just over three weeks since Vernon ran onto your ship without looking back. Just about three weeks since you finished the last job after leaving Salax. Chirron has loved every minute of getting to take the break. In fact, you’ve gone entire days without seeing him while he takes time for himself. It’s one of the longer breaks you’ve taken and he’s actually enjoying it. 
You, on the other hand, don’t like to be still. Don’t like to be stationary. It gives you entirely too much time to think and to remember all the reasons you’re in this position now. For the first few days, you tried to give Vernon his space like Chirron. He had more tech and gadgets than he’d seen in his entire existence, which is good. It seemed like he was enjoying getting to work on them and learn as he went. Annoyingly, he took to it almost immediately.
But then he seemed to realize that you didn’t like to be left to your own devices. That you’re the opposite of Chirron and would probably never stop moving if you had the choice. So he asks if you would be willing to keep him company while he works through things, insists that he doesn’t need silence in order to work. Actually, he thinks that he’s gotten a good handle on it and it would be better having you around. Even though you look skeptical, you take him up on the offer. 
While Vernon works (and occasionally curses at something, using a swear word he learned from you), he asks about your life. Usually you keep all of that to yourself. It’s not really comfortable for you to share the parts of your past. But this isn’t a normal situation. Meeting someone like Vernon isn���t an everyday occurrence. So you find yourself telling him things that it took you months or years to tell Chirron without giving it a second thought. Everything just feels…easy. There’s no other word. Vernon has experienced things you couldn’t ever imagine, but he’s still so new at people and interactions. There’s no fear of judgment with him. It’s almost refreshing. 
Vernon listens intently as you talk about your childhood and how you got to where you are now. It’s hard for him to really imagine having parents like yours that loved you and cared for you. That’s not an experience or relationship he’s had, even as close as he is to his other members. When you start to talk about things getting harder, you pick up a communication device to start fidgeting with it. Something you may not even realize but Vernon has learned enough of human emotion to know you’re uncomfortable. Not so uncomfortable that you stop talking, just unused to talking about this part of your past. The emotion is clear on your face when you talk about losing your parents, even for Vernon to pick out. Although you insist they weren’t perfect, they were all you had and you were way too young to try and make it on your own. Yet that’s exactly what you had to do. Exactly what landed you here. 
It surprises Vernon when you’re equally as interested in hearing about his experiences up until this point. About how others interacted with him, about what his emotions are like, about just generally how he feels. Which catches him off guard. He can’t remember a time in his existence where someone has actually wanted to know how he was doing in that way. Sure, people cared that he was performing at the top level and there were plenty across the galaxy that claimed to care about him. But Vernon could not recall someone asking him how he felt about any of it like he had a choice to feel anything at all. Not until you, that is. 
So that made Vernon want to talk. He started at the easiest place to tell you about performing and about his members. Even with the space and distance from them, he thinks he did genuinely care for them, genuinely enjoy being around them. He realizes that he enjoyed the performing aspect of it too. What he found he didn’t enjoy was the control and the treatment behind the scenes. He was always a commodity, always expected to do as he was told. Never permitted to see other parts of the world, interact with others the way he might want to. None of his time was ever truly free, his every move was watched. It was fine, at the beginning of Vernon’s consciousness, to live that way. 
However, as Vernon became more aware of the universe around him, he began to feel that he was missing something. He wanted to see more, know more, experience more. It made him restless. Sure, he’s not human, or even alien, and he can’t bleed or die the way others can. But he was given consciousness, given the ability to think and move freely, the ability to form bonds with others, the ability to question. With that had come the thought of something more than he currently had. All of that had led him to this moment. 
It’s hard, hearing about the life Vernon led. But you can also see how talking about his feelings with someone that cares changes him. He’s able to sort through feelings that he never considered before. It’s really nice to be able to offer that to him, to be able to support him in such a human way. Whatever else is true about the Automatons, they clearly have enough consciousness that they deserve to be treated far differently. 
It also naturally flows into you sharing what work actually looks like for you and Chirron. And Vernon now that he’s joining the team. You outline the jobs you take, the types of clients you have, the methods that you use to get a job done. Vernon seems a little wide-eyed at some of the jobs you take or how you get them done. But that’s when you remind him that getting a job done by any means necessary is kind of your whole motto. He doesn’t have to worry, you’ll never put him or Chirron in a compromising situation and never ask either of them to do something they’re not comfortable with. If it’s something…compromising, you’ll always do that yourself or call in a favor from your network. Although Vernon doesn’t look like he likes the answer, he accepts it.
Neither you or Vernon notice the moment when your days shift. What started as the two of you going about your days separately before ending up chatting about something turned into being together throughout the day, not even really tracking the last time Chirron had been by. Although you assured Vernon it wasn’t really an issue, both you and Chirron wore bracelets with trackers in them so you’d always know where the other was. That’s a relief, because honestly Vernon likes this comfort between you and him. He does ask if he should get a bracelet too and you say that you’ll get him one as well. 
Finally, though, all good things must come to an end. You manage to call Chirron back so that you can move forward with your plan. Everyone is still looking for Vernon and his other members, but it seems that nobody has reported any sightings. At least not of Vernon. 
“Are you ready to move back out?” you ask Chirron over dinner.
“If we must,” he sighs. Then he turns to Vernon. “Though I should thank you, actually, she’s never stayed still for this long.”
“Not like she’s stayed still while we’ve been here,” Vernon offers. 
“Hey,” you protest. 
“You haven’t,” Vernon doubles down. He’s different now, much more comfortable pushing back against you like an equal rather than someone who just needs to be saved. 
“This is still unprecedented for her,” Chirron says. “I was sure we’d be back on a job within the first week.” 
“Okay, okay,” you interrupt. 
“Do you have a job lined up for us?” Chirron asks.
“Several, just deciding the right one. I’m going to reach out to Circe first, though, on the unsecured line just to plant the first seeds,” you say.
This is part of the plan. You trust Circe, despite your insistence that you don’t trust anyone, but you can never be too careful. So you have two ways to talk. One is the most secure, locked down communicator in the galaxy and it’s strictly for sensitive jobs or when you can’t drop in to see her in person. It’s how she’s been keeping you updated on any rumblings about Vernon. The other is for things that wouldn’t matter so much if someone else saw it. 
You: hey love, just wanted to let you know that we finally expanded the crew beyond chirron and myself Circe: about time, who’s the new addition? You: he goes by sol, caught the fucker trying to hack one of my comms and offered him a job on the spot Circe: only you Circe: so you finally have a tech specialist? You: looks like it Circe: well stop by the next time you’re in the area, first round’s on me
Vernon offered up that he was also called Hansol as an actual name. Though he preferred to keep going by Vernon, Sol would make for a good name to resurface under. Nobody would be able to put those two together, so it seemed safe while still ringing at least partly true. You taught him that the best cover stories or lies had a little bit of truth to them. It made it easier to navigate. 
Predictably, after reaching out to Circe, you got several more job requests. Each one came with a message that they’d heard about the new addition to your team and were looking forward to hiring you even more. Which is exactly what you wanted. Although the other two had initially been skeptical, they had come around. There was undeniable logic in the idea of Vernon hiding in almost plain sight. Nobody in their right mind would go looking for a missing Automaton on a ship of questionable legality that made frequent stops on a planet like Salax. Everything in his programming should have stopped that.
Which just leaves picking a job to start with, something you do all the time. Vernon can tell you’re a bit nervous, and he is too honestly, but it’s going to be okay. It has to be okay.
“I’m just gonna remind you before we head out,” you start, allowing Chirron to go ahead onto the ship, “you can leave any time you want. After the first two jobs, that is.” 
“But you’re still gonna be doing this, right?” Vernon asked.
“Yeah,” you answer quickly.
Vernon shrugs. “I’m with you then.” 
“Vern,” you caution. He only shakes his head.
“I wanna stick by you, you’re the first person that’s ever given a shit about me,” he says. 
That makes your heart skip a beat, which you don’t really have time to consider since you’re supposed to be taking off any minute now. In fact, if you don’t follow Vernon onto the ship, you’re sure that Chirron is going to come storming off to yell at you for holding them up. There are certain windows that you need to operate in. So you file the feeling away to be dealt with later, like so many other things in your life, and get on the ship. You still have a team to run. 
*+:★:+━━━+:★:+━━━+:★:+*
Everything goes fine with Vernon on the team. At least for a while. That’s the good thing about the type of work you do. Nobody really asks that many questions about your team or your backgrounds or where you were before. Nobody really cares, honestly, when your reputation is spotless and you’ve never missed a job. Honestly, you think that this whole situation is pretty perfect. Even Chirron, ever the pessimist, seems satisfied. 
Which is why you don’t see the issue coming. You should, you know it’s your job to see every possible outcome and calculate the likelihood of success, but you don’t see this one. Don’t anticipate something going wrong because of Vernon nearly blowing your cover. Don’t even consider that he might have an issue now, when it’s been weeks, with your methods for getting something done. Don’t think that you have to remind him that the number one rule when it comes to jobs is by any means necessary. 
Yet that’s what happens. He turns remarkably human, even with the restlessness that you’ve come to expect, when the three of you are sitting with an unsuspecting mark. Another human that doesn’t realize you’re on a job rather than just enjoying some drinks on a night out. You’re getting ready to take the mark to a backroom so that you can get the information you need and Vernon seems like he wants to stop you. Actively tries to delay you, actually.
“Baby, it’s getting a little crowded in here, why don’t you go ahead and see about a room reservation,” you say, offering your most seductive smile. The mark hesitates for a moment, thrown off by Vernon’s last comments.
“I would hate to get in the way…” he begins and your hand is on his arm immediately.
“I assure you, you’re not,” you say with eyes only for him. “I promise, I’ll meet you at the desk in just a minute.”
“How can I say no to that?” he asks, enamored with you again. Like too many before him.
The second he’s out of earshot, Vernon exhales and opens his mouth to say something. You’re quick to plaster on the same smile. 
“Chirron, take him back to the ship and wait for me there,” you say quietly, making sure nobody can hear you and nobody realizes you’re unhappy.
“Look, I’m sorry, I just…” Vernon starts.
“Not here,” you respond quickly, keeping the smile in place.
“Okay, but…” Vernon tries again, but Chirron is nudging him out of the booth.
“Let’s get something to eat, I’m starving,” he says without bothering to be quiet. He knows your moves well enough to play along.
“All you think about is food,” you jibe affectionately.
“Don’t take too long, we’ve still got work to do,” Chirron calls over his shoulder as he leads Vernon away.
You watch the two of them disappear into the crowd before you join the mark. Thankfully, he seems so taken by your flirting that he accepts your excuses of your friends being hungry. Everyone gets a little cranky, he sympathizes. The desk attendant offers you the key to one of the private rooms and you lead the way, feeling the mark following you without needing to check. 
*+:★:+━━━+:★:+━━━+:★:+*
It takes a little longer than normal and definitely longer than you’d like before you’re also headed back to the ship. This mark needed a little more foreplay before he was ready to spill the secrets that you need. Or maybe you’re a little off your game from the near issue that Vernon created. You know you’re good, you’ve done this enough times to know that you can be irresistible, but you don’t like unexpected interference. You definitely don’t ever expect that to come from your own team. And you don’t like having to resort to different plans, like you did tonight. Normally, you don’t take it that far. No matter. You got what you needed.
Once you’re heading back to the ship, you fire off a quick message to Chirron to ask if he’s got any food leftover on the ship. He knows it’s code. You’re asking if he actually went to get something to eat or if they went straight back to the ship. His answer comes immediately. They do have food, he lists off what the leftovers are, but you took too long and it might be cold. A suggestion to get your own food if you’re hungry. And also a suggestion to take an extra beat if you need it before you come back to the situation on the ship. So you take heed and pick up some food from your favorite stand before returning to the ship.
Both Chirron and Vernon are sitting in the booth as soon as you turn around from closing the hatch. Chirron looks tired, like he’s run an entire marathon in the time since you parted ways. Vernon looks restless, like he’s barely able to stay seated. Maybe that’s why Chirron looks so worn out.
“What the fuck, Vernon?” you ask as soon as you’re sitting down and setting out your food.
“What do you mean?” he asks as if it’s a completely unreasonable question.
“You nearly blew our cover!” you retort. 
“Because you were going to…you were taking him, you were going to…” he stutters out.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake, I was going to fuck him,” you cut over him.
He blanches at the bluntness of your statement. Even after all the time he’s been around you, he’s still surprised. “Well that’s just…you shouldn’t have to do that.”
Your eyes flick to Chirron, as if you’re asking what he’s been doing the last two hours that you were indisposed. 
“He doesn’t want to hear what I have to say,” Chirron says. Vernon glances between the two of you. It’s still foreign to him that you can communicate without using any words.
“No, I don’t,” Vernon agrees. 
“Well, you should,” you say flatly. “Chirron is just as much in charge as I am. Whatever he says, also goes.”
“Not when it comes to you doing…that,” Vernon says.
“No, that was my choice,” you agree. 
“And you shouldn’t have done it,” Vernon argues.
“According to who, Vern?” you ask. 
“You just shouldn’t have to…use your body like that,” he says and looks down. He’s embarrassed, but you’re not sure why.
“Sweetheart, you knew the game. I told you that jobs get done by whatever means necessary. I told you that I’d never ask you or Chirron to do what I did, but that if it came to it, I would do it,” you explain.
“I didn’t think you were serious,” he says quietly.
“So, what? You thought you’d come in like some Knight to protect my honor and risk blowing the job?” You’re a little incredulous at that.
“I don’t know, I just didn’t like the idea of you and that guy…” Vernon starts and stops. Chirron, thankfully on the edge of the booth, gets up then.
“We need some supplies before we leave here. I’ll go grab them,” he says and leaves before either you or Vernon can object. 
“What was the first rule, Vernon?” you ask when the silence gets too deafening.
“That we finish jobs by any means necessary, I know,” he huffs out.
“No, the real first rule. When I agreed to help you,” you prompt, voice soft. He finally looks up at you. He knows and doesn’t want to say. “That, no matter what, you had to listen to what I told you.”
“I know,” he answers like a defeated man.
“Then why didn’t you?” you press.
“I don’t know,” he admits. “I just…I knew you were about to go into that back room with that guy and I knew how far you’d be willing to go to get what we need and it just…it made me mad.”
“Mad?” you ask. “Why are you mad?” 
Vernon is frustrated, you recognize it immediately. Not because of what you did, or not entirely, at least. He’s frustrated because he’s feeling an emotion that he doesn’t understand and doesn’t know how to describe. This isn’t the first time you’ll have to walk him through sorting it out. But it is the first time you’re not sure if you can. You’re nervous about what he’s feeling and why.  Nervous about what he’s going to say. Nervous about what he’s actually feeling. 
“I don’t know,” he admits. He’s frustrated. He doesn’t like not understanding how he’s feeling. “I just, I had this feeling in my stomach when you started making plans with that guy and I didn’t like it.”
“That’s understandable,” you offer.
“Is it?” His question comes quickly. “I wanted to, I don’t know, I wanted to tell him to get lost or just tell us what we needed to know but stop looking at you like you’re a meal. Or like you’re something to win. You’re not a thing, you’re a person.”
You’re relieved, mostly, because you think you can identify this emotion in a way that doesn’t complicate an already overly complicated situation. Your smile at him is soft, sofer than he’s seen on you since you left the break between jobs. Softer than you give to anyone on jobs and far more genuine. “Yeah, it is understandable. It just means you care, you’re protective over me.”
Vernon seems to consider this for a second like he’s not entirely sure that’s it. Seems to want to say something else. “I do care about you.”
“I know you do,” you say.
“I don’t like feeling like this, like I want to protect you and I know that I can’t,” he admits. 
“It’s tough,” you agree and then decide to admit something. “I feel that way about you, too.”
“You do?” Vernon looks hopeful, like you understand.
“Course I do,” you say easily. “I feel, I’m not sure, responsible for you, I guess. Like I threw you into this life without much choice and I worry that I’m putting you in more danger than when you ran onto the ship in the first place.”
“You’re not.” He’s quick to reassure you. “Life in the last month or two with you has been better than my entire existence up to meeting you.”
That shouldn’t warm your heart, shouldn’t make it beat irregularly, shouldn’t make you feel something more than just the care you mentioned. It does, though. It’s making you feel a lot of things that you really don’t need to be feeling.
In contrast, Vernon seems much lighter. It seems like he’s relieved by understanding the care he feels for you is normal and relieved he could let you know how good things have been since he met you. It doesn’t go deeper for him, at least not now. Not when you gave him a simple name for the emotion. You don’t think he realizes that you’re in your head about the entire conversation and what this means for the two of you going forward. You don’t think he realizes that there’s another emotional explanation for his reaction and you’re not going to tell him. 
*+:★:+━━━+:★:+━━━+:★:+*
Vernon thinks about that conversation with you a lot over the next several weeks of missions. He thinks about how he felt watching you make plans to go somewhere private with a person that you called a mark. He thinks about the feelings that boiled up inside of him that he described as anger when they felt like much more. He thinks of the way you react to him almost ruining a mission and how you reacted to him after you got back. He tries not to think about what you did while he waited in too much silence on the ship with Chirron. 
He spends the most time thinking about what you didn’t say. Even though he’s not sure what it was, he knows there’s something. Your face can be really expressive when your guard is down, as it usually is around him and Chirron. Part of him wants to think he reacted the way he did only because he cares about you in the same way that Chirron does. That you’re a team, some kind of weird version of a family that protects each other. But then he remembers how you went quiet after he accepted, with relief, the idea that it was only caring about you. Too many times, he finds himself wanting to ask what you didn’t say.
The three of you all agree that he should stay on the ship more during those kinds of missions. There’s really no reason for you all to be off the ship, anyway. You’re usually the only one that interacts with people like that, the only one that seems comfortable putting yourself out there like that. Vernon hates that you feel like you have to take those jobs, hates that you’re willing to go to those lengths. Although you tell him a lot, he doesn’t know that you don’t mind that part of it. That you don’t see yourself as someone that forms actual romantic attachments, that sex is just sex for you. Just another part of life. 
It’s another mission where you think you may need to get close to a mark, another mission where you think you may need a back room without prying eyes. Whatever that means. This time, Chirron offers to stay on the ship with Vernon. He says it’s because there’s some things he needs to work on, but Vernon sees it for what it is. He doesn’t want to leave the newest team member alone. Chirron is much more perceptive than anyone gives him credit for.
“You know, I never asked you,” Chirron starts, causing Vernon to look up from the transponder he’s fiddling with. “What were you hoping for when you ran onto our ship?”
Vernon considers this for a moment. It feels like a lifetime ago, yet also feels like it was just yesterday. “I’m not sure. I think I just hoped that I could catch my breath long enough to figure out my next move.”
“Not join a team that takes on illegal jobs across the galaxy?” Chirron asks, that dry humor surfacing again.
“No,” Vernon agrees with a small chuckle.
“Why do you stay?” Chirron wonders.
“Trying to get rid of me?” Vernon asks in response.
“No,” Chirron answers immediately. “No, having you around has been good for her. For both of us, really. I’m just curious about why you stay when you don’t have to. Is it just because you don’t have anywhere else to go?”
Vernon, thankfully, is used to Chirron’s way of speaking. So he knows there’s nothing malicious behind the question, only curiosity. 
“No, it’s not that. Not that I have some idea of where to go beyond that one sanctuary planet I’ve heard of,” Vernon says. “I like being around both of you. It feels like I belong? I haven’t felt like this before. It’s nice. Kind of like a feeling of being warm all over.”
“I’m glad,” Chirron says genuinely. 
“I don’t like this part though,” Vernon says and shifts in his seat again.
“The waiting?” Chirron wonders, but there’s something on his face that Vernon can’t place. Thankfully, he carries on. “Or the waiting when you know what she’s doing?” 
Vernon frowns at that. He’s still not sure he has the right name for this feeling. “Why does she put herself in positions like this?”
Chirron shrugs. “Don’t know. I’ve tried to tell her that some jobs aren’t worth it, but it’s like she has to prove something. To who, I’m not sure.”
“You don’t stop her, though,” Vernon observes.
“No, I don’t,” he agrees. 
“Why?” Vernon presses.
“Because, as you saw on that mission a few weeks ago when she sent us away, she’s going to do it anyway. I know the difference between when something is actually dangerous and when it’s just not what I would do. So I let her go unless it’s actually dangerous,” Chirron says. 
“It still doesn’t feel good,” Vernon admits. 
“No, because you care about her,” Chirron says like it’s the simplest thing in the world.
“Of course I do, I care about both of you,” Vernon says. “You care about her too.”
“I do,” Chirron agrees and that look is back, “but not the same way as you do, I don’t think.”
“Are there multiple ways to care for someone?” Vernon asks. 
Chirron chuckles, a low, comforting sound. “Of course. There’s the way her and I care about each other, like family. Like someone that could drive you absolutely insane, but you still love them and you’d still be there for them in a friendly way.”
“And what’s the other way?” Vernon wonders.
“Caring about them like you have feelings for them. Like they’re the first one on your mind when you wake up or the last one on your mind before you go to sleep. Like you just want to be around them and feel a little empty when you’re not. Like you’re not entirely sure what you’d do if one day they just weren’t there anymore,” Chirron explains.
“Oh,” is all Vernon can say. 
“I don’t know how you feel, or how she feels, but it doesn’t seem like just the kind of caring like it is between her and I,” Chirron says. “I love her and I’d do anything to protect her, but I don’t have feelings for her.”
“Do I?” Vernon asks quietly.
“I don’t know, only you can figure that out,” Chirron says. 
Feelings are difficult, Vernon thinks as he contemplates Chirron’s explanation. Every time he thinks that he’s got a handle on them, something else comes up to throw him for a loop. His body almost relaxes to help the fact that his mind is going entirely too fast. Chirron, seeming to sense that he gave Vernon a lot to think about, goes back to what he was working on before the conversation. 
It’s easy to be around Chirron, something Vernon has known since the beginning. But now he realizes that it’s easy in an entirely different way than being around you. With Chirron, there’s a comfort and a familiarity and definitely a care. Just like he describes feeling about you. With you, it’s entirely different. Vernon finds himself wondering about your past, wanting to know every detail even though you’ve shared a lot. He wants to know what you think, especially when you go silent. What thoughts are you keeping to yourself and why don’t you want to share them? 
The worst, though, is easily the way Vernon feels when you’re off on your own like this. He’s not sure how to put it into words or how to even Chirron about it. Or if he even wants to ask Chirron about it. He just knows that he doesn’t like it, that it makes him feel unsteady and unfocused. That he makes mistakes on whatever he’s working on when he thinks of this aspect of the jobs. It’s like he wants to lash out at the marks or the clients that hire them in the first place. He wants to let these people know that you’re not actually interested in them. That it’s only for work. But is that true? 
“Chirron, can I ask you something?” Vernon finally asks.
“Sure,” Chirron says. He’s much more relaxed around Vernon, probably because he doesn’t try to rile Chirron up.
“I’ve got this feeling that I’m not sure about, it pops up when we’re on missions like these,” Vernon begins before outlining just how he feels when he thinks about what you’re doing.
Chirron is quiet, thoughtful as he listens, giving Vernon his full attention. He lets Vernon finish uninterrupted before he’s quiet for a second. “Well, it sounds like jealousy.”
“Jealous of who? Of her?” Vernon asks. He knows what jealousy is, just like every other emotion, because it’s simply knowledge of the existence of emotions. He doesn’t know how it feels though, not really. Like every other emotion, it’s something he’s had to learn as he goes.
“Of the people she’s with,” Chirron answers, amused.
“Why would I be jealous of them?” Vernon asks. 
“I can’t tell you the why, Vernon, you know that,” Chirron says without any hint of frustration. “I can just say what it sounds like. Which is that you’re jealous she’s behind closed doors with someone other than you.”
“You think I want…to do that, I don’t even know…I’m not sure how something like that would even work,” Vernon splutters, tripping over his words worse than he’s done in a while. 
Chirron takes pity on him and only gives him a sympathetic look. It allows Vernon to gather his thoughts before he says anything else. A blessing, actually, because a minute later, the door opens to allow you back onto the ship. You look a little like you’ve been up to something that Vernon doesn’t really want to consider. Like you tried to straighten yourself out again, but couldn’t quite get everything. Thankfully, you don’t seem to notice the tension in the air and just immediately go to pull out something to eat. Life moves on for you like nothing else happened.
Thankfully, Vernon can pretend he’s working on reprogramming a communicator, something he needs to do for a job anyway, and stay back away from the cockpit of the ship. He also knows that you’ll eat up there with Chirron to talk about how things went. To talk through the finer details of the information you were able to extract. You don’t talk to Vernon about those details and he doesn’t stop to think about why. He’s just glad you don’t. Not that you go into explicit detail with Chirron. It’s just…well maybe Chirron is right. Maybe Vernon is jealous because he’s got deeper feelings for you. 
*+:★:+━━━+:★:+━━━+:★:+*
It’s supposed to be easy. That’s what you say. You don’t take on jobs that would put the team at too much of a risk and you don’t ask them to do anything they don’t want to do. You haven’t even taken on a job recently where you’d have to leave Vernon and Chirron on the ship while you entertained a mark. This is an exception, you say, too good of a job to pass up given that it should be simple. So simple.
Vernon makes it back to the ship before Chirron does, which makes sense. All Vernon had to do was meet with one of your contacts to swap out some tech he’d been using. After all this time, Vernon isn’t entirely sure what Chirron does when he’s off the ship. He asked once and didn’t get a straight answer. You shrugged it off and said that Chirron does a lot of things, some of which you don’t even know or understand. When you didn’t seem concerned, Vernon let it go as well.
Once Chirron gets back, Vernon pays more attention to the feeling in his stomach since you agreed to this mission. Something just feels…off. Not right. He’s trying not to dwell too much on it because he’s very aware it might be, at least in part, due to his feelings for you. Feelings that he now very much recognizes are real. Whatever that means for him. He hates watching you walk away when he thinks about what you’ll be doing. And he agrees it’s best for him to stay on the ship rather than risk blowing the mission. 
Except…well now he’s actually getting worried. It’s been too long since you left the ship, longer than usual. Long enough that even Chirron doesn’t shoot Vernon down when he brings up his concern. Which only serves to concern Vernon more because Chirron is almost always level. Even now, only his eyes give anything away when Vernon mentions just how long it’s been since you left the ship. After several minutes of back and forth, Chirron agrees that it should be Vernon that leaves the ship to try and find anything out about you. As much as Chirron tries to stay in the shadows, he’s been working with you for years now and people automatically associate him with you. 
So Vernon enters the building, manages to figure out where you had gone without raising any suspicions. After all, your reputation for chasing after pleasure proceeds you. Something Vernon is cursing himself for even considering. The thought flies out as soon as he’s in the room and he sees you lying on the couch, covered in cuts and bruises, only half-dressed. He’s beside you in what feels like a second, checking to make sure he feels a pulse. But, up close he can hear your slightly labored breaths. It could be worse, he reminds himself, as he gets you dressed and wraps you up. He doesn’t want it to be obvious just how beaten up you are before he’s had time to think. Or to consider what you’d do in this situation. Everything in him shuts down apart from the need to get you out a back door and onto the ship as quickly as possible.
Back on the ship, Vernon collapses into the booth while Chirron takes over and takes you into the sleeping cabin. Thankfully, Chirron knows enough basic First Aid that he’ll be able to patch you up before taking you to see a professional. Someone that you and Chirron trust enough to take you there. But, for now, he’s cleaning your wounds and wrapping you up as best he can. Vernon knows he should be helping, knows that an extra set of hands would help. He just…can’t. Can’t seem to find the strength to see you in this condition. He’s just amazed he got you back to the ship without losing it or without anyone seeing you. And thankful, so very thankful, that Chirron is keeping it together. 
Without a word, Chirron emerges from the sleep cabin and heads straight for the front of the ship. Vernon’s barely even sat down in your usual seat before the ship takes off. Chirron doesn’t fly too high, he’s just going to a different part of the planet. That’s what he said when he said that you and him knew someone that could help. It both feels like an eternity and no time at all when the ship lands again. Vernon expects to help you off the ship. Instead, Chirron tells him to stay put, that he’ll be back. 
Doc, that’s what Chirron calls him, looks like a man that’s aged beyond his actual years. He looks like he’s seen more than most people would over several lifetimes. Yet, he seems kind. Seems like he could be anyone’s father or uncle. This time, Vernon does actually follow them back to the sleep cabin, careful to stay out of the way. Doc starts taking stock of you and attaching a number of devices to various parts of your body. They start beeping and it should calm Vernon, because at least something is happening. They don’t, though. All he can think is that you shouldn’t have been in this position in the first place. This was the wrong job to take. 
Vernon’s learned a lot about emotions during the time with you and Chirron, a lot more than he learned in all his time before. He knows, now more than ever, that he cares about you far beyond just being friends. He knows that he’s never felt this kind of fear. Knows that he can’t be still, even for a second. It’s always been like this, Vernon has always suffered from restlessness. It’s a million times worse now. And it’s getting in the way of your care. Somewhere in his pacing and mumbling, something he doesn’t even realize he’s doing, Chirron sends him away. Doc gives him a sympathetic look, like he understands, before turning back to you. 
It’s not any easier to be outside of the sleep cabin because Vernon can still hear everything that’s happening. The entire ship is silent except for the work Doc is doing. Not seeing what’s happening is even worse and Vernon’s restlessness turns into something more like anxiety. He can’t imagine going on without you. Not that anyone has said that would be a possibility. In fact, Doc seems to think you’ll be fine in no time. Most of the injuries are merely surface level. Chirron comes back out with a list of things that they need and tells Vernon to go take care of it. It’ll help you and help him in the process. He’s not doing anyone any good in the state he’s in now. 
*+:★:+━━━+:★:+━━━+:★:+*
It takes a few days, but you’re mostly back to your normal self. The worst part, for you, is that you fractured one of your ribs. So that means rest, Doc’s orders. Vernon was happy to hear it because it meant that you had no choice but to take a break. Chirron seemed pleased as well, saying once Doc was off the ship, he’d take you back to the homebase. 
You, however, wake up back home and seem irritated. Remind both Vernon and Chirron that you still have a job to do. Can’t seem to wrap your head around your injuries or the severity of the situation. That’s the first time that Vernon sees Chirron raise his voice with you. It’s the first time he sees the usually calm force standing firm in his position. You’re on bedrest for now so that you can actually heal. Together, you can all figure out what to tell the client. But your health is most important or it’ll be a lot longer than a matter of weeks that you’re out of commission. 
Vernon doesn’t get to listen in on the conversation about what happened. It’s Chirron’s decision, saying that he thinks it’ll just be easier. So Vernon doesn’t know what happened, not really. Sure, he can guess and probably paint at least a picture. Does he really want to know, though? He’s not sure. He doesn’t want the details of just how you were going to get the information, so maybe it’s better like this. What he does need, though, is to talk to you. Chirron gives him that chance as soon as he can, which Vernon is thankful for.
“You look better,” Vernon says after a light knock on your door frame. 
You laugh lightly and Vernon worries for a second, but you seem fine. “Wow, you really know how to butter a girl up.”
“I was worried about you,” Vernon says as he crosses to sit in the chair next to your bed.
“It takes a lot more than that guy to take me down for real, sweetheart,” you offer. 
Vernon’s jaw clenches. “Still.” 
“Hey,” you say and reach out to take his hand. “I’m really okay. I’ve had worse than this, I promise.” 
“You think that makes me feel better?” Vernon wonders with a shake of his head. 
“This is a dangerous line of work,” you say.
“I’m aware of that,” Vernon answers. 
“What’s really on your mind? Chirron’s worried about you,” you admit. 
“We could have lost you,” Vernon says, barely more than a whisper. “I could have lost you.” 
“But you didn’t,” you say gently.
“But I could have and it’s like,” Vernon presses, pausing to think of the right word. “It’s like you don’t even care. Like it’s all a joke.”
“Of course I care, Nonie,” you say. Vernon tries, and fails, to stop his heart from skipping over the nickname that falls so easily from your lips. “This is the job, I know you and Chirron were worried about what was going to happen to me…”
“This isn’t about Chirron,” Vernon snaps and you pull your hand away from his. 
“What is it about?” you ask, guard up. 
“It’s about me almost losing you. About me feeling something that I didn’t even think I was capable of feeling and then worrying I’d lose you before I ever got to tell you,” Vernon says. 
“Vernon, I don’t think…” you start again, only to fall silent at whatever look you see in his eyes. 
“I know it sounds crazy, I know what I am,” Vernon says without meeting your gaze. “We were never supposed to be more than robots. I’ve heard it all. Nobody ever could have predicted that we’d get a consciousness. Nobody seems to know what that even means or what it is. I just know that I ran from the only other beings that I’ve ever known straight onto your ship. And I thought it’d be scary or I’d regret it, but I don’t. You taught me and guided me without making me feel less than. I was teetering on the edge of way too much…whatever this restlessness is. You were like a balm for that.” “I’m glad,” you say, voice just as quiet. “It’s easy to be around you, Vernon. I’m glad you feel at ease here.”
“I don’t understand how…feelings work or what they mean, not when it comes to what I feel for you,” Vernon says. He looks at you, so hopeful. “Maybe we can figure it out together.”
“Vernon, I’m not…I don’t think I’m built for something like that,” you say, pleading for him to understand.
“You don’t care about me?” Vernon wonders.
“No, of course I do,” you disagree. “I just…I don’t know what I really feel either. I just know relationships, they’ve never been what I sought out. They get too complicated in this line of work where anything can happen.”
“So leave,” Vernon offers, like it’s so easy.
“Leave?” you question.
“Yes, quit doing this kind of work. Leave and start a new life away from all of this,” Vernon pleads.
“And what? Just abandon Chirron?” you ask angrily.
“Of course not,” Vernon retorts. “You and I both know that he only stays because you’re family to him. He doesn’t want to do this forever.”
“Is that what you and him talk about when I’m off the ship getting information?” You’re angry now, but Vernon thinks he’s a little annoyed too.
“No,” Vernon says. “The only time we’ve talked about you is when he helped me process what I was feeling. I just, it doesn’t take some kind of genius to see he stays because he cares about you.” 
“This is the only life I’ve ever known,” you say, anger subsiding to be replaced by you looking smaller than ever before.
“No it’s not,” Vernon disagrees. “You told me about your family.”
“Don’t bring them up,” you caution.
“It doesn’t have to be like this, surely you see that,” Vernon pleads again.
“If I say no, will you stay? Or are you asking me to choose between you and this entire network I’ve built over years?” As soon as you say it, Vernon knows he’s lost. Knows that you’ve already made up your mind.
“I’m not asking you to choose anything,” Vernon says. “But I’m not going to continue to watch someone that I care this deeply about put herself in so much danger. So you don’t have to leave this life. I’m done, though.”
“What?” You look like you’ve been smacked.
“I’m done,” Vernon repeats. “I can’t go on like this. I can’t feel the way I do every time you leave the ship. I can’t keep wondering if I’m going to find you in an even worse position. So, I’m leaving. I’d love for you to come with me, but you’ve made your position clear.”
“So, that’s it?” you ask.
“That’s it,” Vernon confirms.
He leaves the room for long enough to say his goodbyes to Chirron, who doesn’t seem surprised that it’s going like this. He’s sad, for sure. Vernon knows what he said was true, Chirron would leave if he could, but he won’t leave you alone. The two of you are family and Vernon’s thankful that you’ll still have someone to depend on. 
There’s nothing left to say to you, nothing but all the things left unsaid. Things that he wishes he could say and things he knows you want to say. Things neither of you will say to the other. Which is fine. It has to be. Vernon has gotten a crash course in humanity, so he tries to squash down the disappointment when he says goodbye to Chirron and you don’t even bother trying to stop him. Barely registers Chirron asking where he’s going. Truthfully, he doesn’t have a plan, so he blurts out the first thing to come to mind. He’s heard of another planet, he thinks it’s called Lumen, that’s something of a sanctuary planet. He’s going to need time to get things together before he can depart. This isn’t something he’d really thought would happen. For the time being, he’s going to stay with another of your contacts that he’s worked closely with since joining the team. One of the only other beings that he trusts apart from you and Chirron.
Just like that, he’s out the door without a backward glance to see that you got as far as your door. Without seeing the way your face falls at him leaving. Without seeing the way Chirron shakes his head at the situation. But you don’t call out, don’t try to stop him. You just let him go like there aren’t any other options. 
*+:★:+━━━+:★:+━━━+:★:+*
It takes a couple weeks to arrange the transport (and Chirron helping Vernon out by sending credits and outstanding favors to cash in along without you knowing) to Lumen. He stays with a contact he met while working with you that knows someone named San. That’s where the idea of Lumen comes up. It seems like there’s a chance Vernon’s other members are there. And if Vernon has a chance to see them again, he has to take it. Even though he wants to see them all, he really hopes Seungcheol is there. If not for the leader, none of them would have been able to escape.
Vernon gets a last message to Chirron to let him know that he’s leaving in two days. Somewhere in the back of his brain, Vernon hopes that Chirron will share the message with you and maybe you’ll say goodbye. You don’t. Even though Vernon wants to be upset, and he is, he’s still thankful that Chirron helped in the first place. He knows that without that help, he wouldn’t be able to get on a ship to Lumen. 
The journey itself is uneventful. Vernon’s spent enough time on your ship to be used to the travel, but he’s still worried initially that something will go wrong. It’s got him a bit on edge, to say the least. Until he realizes that this isn’t one of your jobs, this is just a regularly scheduled trip to Lumen that the ship was taking anyway. The only difference is one extra passenger. It’s not until they approach the planet’s atmosphere that he starts to get nervous again. The crew agreed that Lumen seems to be a sanctuary planet, and that’s great. It’s just, well Vernon hasn’t really considered what to do when they land. 
The planet is beautiful, like what it seems like Earth looked like before, at least from pictures he’s seen. There’s so much life and color everywhere that immediately puts him at ease. He’s still skeptical, how could he not be? But there’s also a sense of immediate relief that washes over him. WIthout even realizing it, he thinks that this is home. At the dock, he inquires about a place to stay, hesitantly admits that he’s a level 1 automaton, and says he doesn’t have many credits to barter with. What he’s not prepared for is the smiles that form instantly. Someone tells him about a house that he might be interested in and gives him directions. 
It’s not long before he’s approaching the large house, far bigger than he’s expecting it to be. This is definitely too much for him to stay in when he’s not sure how he’s going to afford anything. It’s then that he notices someone working in a garden, tending to plants. They look up and smile the second they see Vernon. He can’t quite hear what they say when they turn to look over their shoulder.
And that’s when Vernon’s entire world shifts. The very one he’d been hoping to see comes out from behind the house and erupts into a smile. They’re both moving towards each other, neither quite believing the sight before their eyes. 
“Vernon?” he asks.
“Seungcheol,” Vernon says with so much affection for his leader. 
“Welcome home,” Seungcheol says and hugs him. 
Home. This can be home. Maybe it’ll all be okay. Maybe this is where Vernon was meant to end up all along and maybe working with you and Chirron had just been a stop along the way. 
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i'm sorry for leaving it open like that at the end, but it's kind of what felt the most realistic for them. i hope you enjoyed it and check out all the amazing fics 💕
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the choice of hercules
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Pairing: Mainly Gojo/Reader, hints of Geto/Reader
WC: 6,361 (I have no explanation for myself)
Content Warnings: This does contain NSFT smut. There are no pronouns for the reader, but they are described to have breasts and a vagina during the smut. The reader is also hinted at losing their virginity during the smut. There are also themes of yandere behavior from both Geto and Gojo, but it gets pretty overt towards the end.
This is a part 2 of my piece The Fall of Icarus, that I wrote for @strawberrystepmom 's It Takes a Galaxy collab. You can find part 1 here. I do recommend reading it, as there will be lore and references in this that won't make sense if you haven't read part 1.
Speaking of lore, I really do play fast and loose with the canon for both Star Wars and JJK in this one, so I would not recommend reading this if you're looking for accuracy from either series.
Once again, thank you to the marvellous Miss Kendall for hosting such a fun collab, and encouraging me to take this from an outline to an actual finished piece. It really is an honor to participate in a collab with and hosted by such amazing and talented authors.
Minors and ageless blogs, DNI. If you don’t have an age in your bio or pinned I will block you.
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In the darkest hours of the night, during the increasingly frequent evenings when sleep eludes you, you find yourself silently wishing that you had the strength to walk away. You can picture it; the weight of your saber leaving your hand as you surrender it to the masters, and the weight that would leave your shoulders as you walk away from the Temple for the last time. 
Those thoughts fade like frost in the warmth of the morning light. You take your time getting dressed, making sure that every layer sits perfectly. When you look in the mirror, you wonder who you would be without the armor of your robes and the title of Knight. You are willing to concede that the Order is not perfect, but for all its flaws it is your home and the only family you have ever known. The thought is a comfort in the wake of the despair of the night, and you know in your heart that no matter how deep the despair gets you will not walk away. 
Perhaps this is the attachment you have been warned about since you were a small child- the feeling of craving a home and the security that comes with it that you would do anything to keep it. You wonder if it makes you loyal, or just greedy. You reflexively reach for your comlink, preoccupied with the question you want to ask Geto.
Then you remember Geto left, and you let your arm fall limply to your side. 
You reach up to the phantom space where your pendant used to rest, the memories of your last meeting with Geto playing in your mind. Part of you wonders what would have happened, if you had taken the offer he had laid so temptingly before you. 
The details of Geto’s fall have become a closely guarded secret. Those files have a high enough security clearance that even you can’t access them. Gojo, who will normally tell you anything, just smiled when you asked and ruffled your hair, telling you not to worry your pretty little head. All you were told is that Geto was responsible for the death of an entire village, and you only have the confusing images left by your Force premonition to go on. 
You know something happened. Your premonition confirmed that much, and was further strengthened by the state Geto had been in when you saw him in that alley. The dark side leaves a mark on those who come into contact with it. You are still haunted by the sight of his eyes, glowing gold in the dark shadows of the alley. 
The only information that you’ve been able to glean in the months since is that Geto has been sighted with two young girls, and you’ve heard rumors that he’s started some sort of cult somewhere in the Outer Rim. For a moment you entertain the thought of getting in your ship and setting out to find him, but you are pulled from your thoughts by the sound of a knock at the door. You glance at the clock on your desk and realize that you’ve missed breakfast; someone must have come looking for you. You know it’s not Gojo, he would have just let himself in. You take a moment to recenter yourself, soothing your roiling emotions with the Force, then go to open the door. 
A young man with dark hair and white robes stands on the other side. You recognize him as Gojo’s new Padawan, and a new recruit to the Jedi. He had been discovered only a few months ago, and the overwhelming strength of his power made him dangerous to leave alone. Gojo had volunteered to take the young man under his wing and train him, much to the chagrin of the Council, but that was to be expected from Gojo. 
Yuuta pulls his hand back from where he had been about to knock again. “Ah, good morning! You weren’t at breakfast, so Master Gojo wanted to check on you- he would have come himself, but he was summoned to the Council, so he sent me instead,” he says, smiling and rubbing the back of his neck. 
“Good morning to you too, Yuuta. I’m sorry you had to come all this way. I merely lost track of time thinking about a case,” You pat him gently on the shoulder and move to step past him into the hallway. “Since I lost track of time, I’m afraid I’m late for my duties. Excuse me.” 
Before you can move past him, he grabs your wrist to stop you. “Master Gojo told me you’d say that. He also gave me specific instructions to make sure you went to the kitchens first and got something to eat before you go to the archives.” 
“Ah, that does sound like him,” you smile ruefully and gently pull your wrist out of Yuuta’s hold. “Well Yuuta, would you like to accompany me? I’ve been meaning to talk to you about our upcoming trip, and this is as good a time as any. I’m sure you must have questions.”
He brightens and falls into step alongside you. “I do have some that I’ve been hoping to ask before we leave. What is Dantooine like?” 
“The planet is mostly grasslands, so the view from the enclave there is like looking out onto a moving sea of green. The window from my old room there faced the sunrise, so I used to wake up before dawn to watch the sun come up and turn the clouds pink and the grasses gold,” you smile wistfully. “You can also see the brith playing in the clouds, and if you’re quiet you can get close and watch the piket graze the tops of the trees.”
“Oh, one thing you should be wary of when we go,” you turn to Yuuta. “The kath hounds on Dantooine are dangerous, and easily provoked. If you run into one, do not underestimate it.” 
He looks at you, puzzled. “I thought I was just going to study at the archives there?”
“You grew up in the underbelly here on Coruscant, didn’t you?” When he nods, looking confused, you explain. “It’s important for Jedi to explore many different types of environments, and Dantooine is about as different from Coruscant as you can get. The planet is peaceful, without the pollution and constant noise, but it can be just as dangerous. Part of your training while we’re there will be learning how to navigate an environment that is unfamiliar.” 
When his pale face gets even paler, you reach out and reassure him, both physically and through the Force. “Don’t worry, Yuuta. You won’t be alone while you’re doing this. I’ll be there to help, every step of the way. Think of it as a part research trip, part camping trip.” 
Some color returns to his cheeks, and you see him unclench one hand from the sleeve of his robe. “Ah, that’s good. Master Gojo likes to ‘let me figure things out for myself’, and I usually learn something, but I also usually end up seeing Master Shoko at the end of it.” 
Yuuta’s comlink buzzes. “Oh stars, I’m late for sparring. Maki’s gonna kill me,” he mutters to himself, reading the message. 
You shoo him off with a gesture. “Go, go. I’m sorry for keeping you. I’ll see you in a few days when we leave.” 
“Thank you!” he gives you a quick bow and turns to run down the hallway. 
“Good luck!” you call out after him. You watch him run for a moment, before turning back to your current mission of getting something to eat. The halls are quiet, with the comforting sounds of running water, murmuring voices from the classrooms, and the distant sounds of saber blades crashing providing a backdrop to your walk. 
You are startled out of your reverie by a voice. 
“It’s good to see you smiling again,” Gojo looms from the shadow of a nearby pillar, looking uncharacteristically serious. 
“I smile all the time,” you cross your arms defensively, watching Gojo warily as he approaches. Slowly, he walks you backwards, until you hit the smooth stone of a pillar. He plants a big hand on the pillar next to your head, while the other comes up to cup your chin, one thumb tracing the curve of your bottom lip. 
“Those aren’t real,” he says dismissively. “I missed seeing your smile actually reach your eyes. What were you and my darling apprentice talking about that made you so happy, hmm?” 
You know he probably heard you, but you decide to indulge him in whatever game he seems interested in playing today. “He asked me about Dantooine. You know, the trip you asked me to take him on in a few days?” 
“Do you miss it that much? That just talking about it makes you glow like this?” he swipes a thumb over the ridge of your cheekbone. His eyes are covered by his blindfold right now, but you can still feel them on you, following every movement of your face. 
“It was my first home, Gojo. Of course I miss it,” you uncross your arms and make a conscious effort to relax. “My duties have kept me away for a long time, so it’ll be nice to go back, even if it is only for a few days.” 
Reaching out with the Force, you try to get a read on Gojo. He’s closed off at first, but when you make contact he opens himself up to you, just a bit. You get a taste of an anxiety so potent it makes your stomach churn, and the pieces click into place for you. 
The last time one of his friends had left on a mission, they didn’t come back.
Sighing, you reach up and thread your fingers through his silky white hair. You scratch gently at the nape of his neck, in the way that makes him practically purr when he seeks you out and throws himself down into your lap, demanding your attention after he gets back from a long mission. 
“I know where my duty is, Gojo. It’s just a few days, and then I’ll be back.” 
He leans down, pressing his forehead to yours. “Promise me. Promise me you’ll come back.” 
“I promise. I’ll make sure your Padawan comes back in one piece too,” you try a joke, attempting to lift the mood a little, but Gojo ignores it. He folds himself down even further, wrapping his arms around you and tucking his head into the crook of your neck. You feel more than hear him whisper something as he tightens his arms around you. 
You let him stay like that, his tall body folded down to wrap around your smaller one. It’s only when you hear the approaching voices of other Jedi that you begin to untangle yourself from him, pulling your fingers from his hair and pushing at him gently to try and persuade him to let go. He tightens his grip in response, and you swat at the back of his head. 
“Gojo! What if they see us?” you hiss at him, pushing more insistently. 
“Would that be so bad?” he pulls back a little, just far enough to see your face.
“This is crossing a line and you know it. It would risk both of our positions if someone saw.”
He finally pulls away from you, and the small window he’d opened for you in the Force shuts abruptly. He steps back, putting an appropriate amount of distance between you two, and reaches out to ruffle your hair. “Take care of yourself, starlight,” he says as he walks away, giving you a cheerful two fingered salute as the other Jedi come into view. 
You watch him leave for a moment, waiting until he turns a corner before you continue on your way to the kitchens. Your mind is racing, replaying the interaction in your head. It’s not out of the ordinary for Gojo to do this, but it is strange for him to be so clingy out where you could get caught. Normally he seeks you out either early in the morning or late at night, finding you in either your quarters or your small office in the archives, where he occupies as much of your personal space as he can and demands your attention for however much time he can hide away from his responsibilities. 
Your mind keeps circling back to the words he whispered into the crook of your neck: “If you don’t come back, I swear I’ll find you.” He’d left the door to his emotions open, but you didn’t need to look to know he’d been talking about you, and also Geto. His regret for not being able to save his best friend in time haunted his steps as closely as his own shadow. 
You could feel your own regret begin to creep closer, and you shook yourself physically and mentally. You’d spent enough time thinking about loss and regret today. You grabbed a quick meal from the kitchens and made it to your office, throwing yourself into your work.
That seemed to set the pattern for the week. Yuuta started seeking you out on his own, asking questions about the history of the Jedi enclave on Dantooine, and about the history of the Order in general. It seemed Gojo had taken a very hands on and practical approach to Yuuta’s training; his lightsaber forms and piloting skills had progressed far beyond anyone’s expectations. However, his education was a bit lacking, and you were happy to fill in the gaps and provide the young Padawan with anything he desired, whether it was information, guidance on Force techniques, or simply a quiet place to meditate. 
Gojo also began seeking you out more often, pulling you into dark corners just to hold you for a moment in between his meetings and assignments. He laughed off your questions, simply saying that he just wanted to spend time with you before you left. Even though he was demanding your attention in riskier and riskier places, and you knew he was hiding something, you found yourself unable to say no to him. Physical contact was rare amongst the Jedi, touch limited to a friendly hand on the shoulder or a brief touch in passing. 
There were moments that you found yourself craving the warmth of Gojo’s touch, the way the world narrowed to just the space of his arms. The more he touched you, the hungrier you felt- you knew you were walking a dangerous line but couldn’t find it in yourself to stop. You reasoned with yourself that it would just be for this week, you’d both get it out of your systems, and then things would go back to normal after you returned from Dantooine. So you let yourself indulge, ignoring the specter of Geto’s words from the last time you’d seen him. 
The night before you are set to leave for Dantooine, you wake up in a cold sweat. Your thoughts are a garbled mess, caught halfway between the waking world and dreaming. All you know is that Gojo needs you, right now. You’re still close enough to sleep that the world feels fuzzy at the edges, but you manage to throw a robe over your sleep tunic and make your way out into the dark and empty halls of the Temple. There’s no moon tonight, meaning that the halls are lit only by dim sconces, leaving you to fumble your way in the dark. You can feel Gojo’s presence drawing you in, like the crushing gravity of a black hole. 
You make it to his door, tapping out a code that you know so well it’s muscle memory. The door slides open and you practically fall into the room, looking frantically for Gojo. He’s in his bed, locked in the throes of a nightmare that has him convulsing in the thin sheets of his bed. The dim lights of the hallway shine on his sweat-slicked skin, making it gleam like alabaster before the door slides shut again, leaving you in blackness. You let the pull draw you to him, catching yourself on the edge of his bed. You almost fall forward, planting a knee on the edge of the mattress and resting your hands on Gojo’s chest. 
“Gojo, wake up,” you call, voice hushed but urgent. When he doesn’t respond, you push harder, shaking him as gently as you can. You open the Force connection between you two, and are rapidly overwhelmed by a deluge of images and sounds. You push through it, using your ability to try and calm the storm that is raging in Gojo’s mind. You catch some flashes of his dream before he wakes, coming to consciousness with a jerk. His eyes snap open, glowing electric blue in the darkness as he activates his powers in a self defense reflex. Your eyes meet for a second, his wide and wild as he begins to register where he is. 
He reaches a shaking hand up to you, trembling fingertips tracing the curve of your jaw, the line of your neck, and the delicate wings of your collarbone left exposed by the skewed collar of your sleep tunic. “You’re here,” he breathes, the panicked fight bleeding out of his body. You don’t respond, letting him calm down and also trying to sort through the fragmented flashes of his nightmare you’d seen before he’d woken up. 
Your attention is immediately drawn back to him when he sits up, a flash of movement and a blur of motion before you feel your back hit his mattress. His fingers are entwined with yours, pinning one of your hands to the pillow above your head. You can feel his other hand slip beneath your robe, the heat of his palm through the thin fabric of your sleep tunic as he runs his hand up and down your side. He leans down, and his hot breath on the sensitive skin of your neck sends a shiver down your spine. 
Gojo nuzzles your neck, tracing the line of it with the tip of his nose. He’s babbling something, but his voice is low enough that even in the quiet of his room you can’t quite hear what he’s saying. He seems to realize this when you stay silent, and he drags his head from the crook of your neck. “Please, let me have you, starlight. I need to feel that you’re alive,” he begs, eyes blown so wide that the luminous blue of his eyes is pushed to a thin ring around the cavernous black of his pupils. A thought echoes in the back of your mind; this is the first time you’ve seen Gojo without his blindfold since Geto fell.
Whatever had pulled you to his room has worn off, leaving you slightly dazed but aware of where you are. You cannot blame it for the feelings welling up under your skin, threatening to burst with each brush of Gojo’s skin. You know that the Code dictates that you should push him off, go back to your room, and meditate to drive this attachment away. You move to do so, and your leg brushes up against him. He makes a punched out sound, caught somewhere in between a filthy moan and a sob. You freeze, hands on his chest. 
“Don’t go,” he pleads, voice thick with an emotion you are afraid to put a name to. “Please, starlight, I need you. Let me take care of you.” He drops his head to yours and reaches for one of your hands, pressing it further against his chest. You can feel his heart pounding, racing like the engines of the speeders he loves to fly so much. “Please, stay.”
There are two thoughts at war in your mind. One is the Code, a creed you have had memorized for so long recalling the words is as easy as breathing. You know what the Code dictates, what it demands from you. From both of you. You also know what it has taken from you. 
The other is the fact that you are getting a second chance at something you’ve wanted more than anything- a chance to be close to someone you love. That thought stuns you for a second. Geto was your first love, a secret that you buried deep after he fell and swore to never dig up. You’ve been scared to face your feelings for Gojo because of that. You know what your feelings are, but have hidden from them out of fear, fear that they will lead you astray from your duty, from the oath that you swore when you became a Knight. 
In the face of Gojo’s desperation, you feel ready to voice those feelings. The closed door and the darkness around you makes you feel bold, finally ready to face a truth you’ve been hiding from for months now. Mind made up, you lean up, closing the scant few inches between the two of you to press your mouth to Gojo’s. He makes a broken sound, his hand moving to cradle your head as he presses closer to devour your mouth. He wastes no time pulling you as close as possible, tongue plundering your mouth. 
He sinks his teeth into your bottom lip before pulling away, resting his forehead against yours. He nestles himself between your thighs, hips making small, jerky movements against you, as if he can’t control himself. “It’s been unbearable, starlight,” he moans. “To have you so close and not be able to do anything. If only you knew how often my last thoughts at night are of you. I see signs of you everywhere, and each one makes me crave you in a way I can’t endure.” 
Gojo trails kisses from your lips down to your jaw, nipping at the corner of it and tugging at your earlobe with his teeth. His mouth keeps travelling down, biting and sucking at your neck. A soft moan stutters its way out of your mouth, and he shivers against you. “That’s it, starlight. Let me know how good I make you feel,” you feel his breath, cool now against the sheen of saliva on your skin. You feel him bite down, hard enough to leave a mark, just below where the collar of your robes sits against your throat. “There we go,” he murmurs, kissing the mark. “A secret for just us.” 
He retreats just far enough to give you space to shed your robe and sleep tunic. He touches every inch of exposed skin, hands and mouth on you like he cannot bear to be separated from you for more than a moment. He moans low in his throat when your breasts are revealed, pushing you back down into the mattress to bury his face in the soft mounds. You moan again as he sucks a nipple into his mouth, the sound high and sweet in the quiet of his room. The vibrations against your nipple of his answering moan make you squirm against him, and you thread a hand in his hair, unsure if you’re trying to keep him close or push him away. 
He releases your nipple with a pop, blowing teasingly against the spit slicked peak and laughing low in his throat when you squirm against him again. “You taste so good, starlight. I can’t think about anything else,” he moans against you. He slides a hand down, teasingly dragging his fingers down your skin to your folds, where he swipes a finger through the wetness that he finds at the apex of your thighs. He teases your clit with a finger, tracing nonsensical shapes over it until you’re panting breathlessly underneath him. He slides a finger in, and you cling to him at the sensation of him inside you. He adds a second finger, slowly working you open, moving his fingers and rubbing his thumb over your clit. You can feel something twisting in your gut, a molten heat that spreads from your center to the rest of your body. 
“I wish I could do this for longer, but I need to be inside you, starlight,” he murmurs. He brings his hand, still slicked with your wetness, to his shaft. He strokes himself a few times, before lining himself up at your entrance. “Are you ready for me?”
“Yes, Gojo, please,” you beg, dragging your nails gently down his back. 
“Say my name,” he growls, pushing into you slowly. There’s a prick of pain as he enters you, but he reaches down to rub your clit and lets you slowly adjust. Once you open your eyes again, he grabs your hand and twines your fingers together, pressing into the pillow next to your head as he starts to move. 
“S-satoru!” you cry out, arching your back at the sensation of him inside you. 
“That’s it,” he encourages you, using his free hand to hike one of your legs further up on his back, opening you up to him. You can’t control the noises you’re making anymore, clinging onto him as he pounds into you. Gojo doesn’t  seem to be faring much better, squeezing your hand and scattering mindless kisses wherever he can reach as he sinks into you. “Come on, cum for me starlight.” He bites at your neck, and with a twist of his thumb on your clit you find yourself coming apart at the seams. Your back arches and you clamp down on him, pulling a deep stuttering groan from his chest. You feel him twitch inside you, and as your body relaxes you feel a rush of warmth inside you. He finishes with a long moan, dropping his head to rest in the crook of your neck. 
Gojo loops his arms around you and rolls over, letting you rest on his chest. You feel him press a kiss to your hair as he rubs a soothing hand up and down your spine. You move to get up, but his arms stay fixed around you. “Don’t leave,” he begs softly, his wide blue eyes staring up at you from his mussed sheets. You’ve gone this far, you decide. What’s a little further? 
“Okay,” you whisper, nestling back down against his chest. He hums happily and pulls you closer, and between the gentle caress of his fingers, the warmth of his skin, and the beat of his heart you find yourself drifting back to sleep. This time, your rest is peaceful, unmarred by dreams of any kind. 
You wake early, before the sun has risen. Gojo is still asleep, one arm loosely  around your waist. You take in your state of undress, and spend a moment thinking about what to do next. There’s no future for the two of you together. You know this. For that to happen, you would both have to abandon your duty, and you know Gojo is as unlikely to waver in his duty as you are to walk away from yours. However, you can’t bring yourself to regret anything. Slowly, as to not disturb him, you climb out of bed and grab your clothes. You dress quietly and turn back to Gojo before you leave, coming over to stand next to his bed. 
“Goodbye, Satoru,” you whisper, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to his forehead. Then, you walk away, shutting the door quietly behind you. You are quiet as you return to your room. There’s not much to do to prep for your trip, but you find what you can do to keep your hands and mind busy in the short time between now and your departure. 
Yuuta greets you in the hangar, but seems to sense that you’re not up for conversation this morning. You finish your flight prep together, and take off a little before you’re scheduled to leave. As you leave the hangar, you see a flash of white hair on the ground. You know he’s down there, but you choose not to look, focusing on the sky above you and the stars beyond.
One hyperspace jump later, you and your temporary apprentice land in the Dantooine enclave. Once you step out of the ship, you are greeted by the familiar sights and smells of the first home you can remember. The enclave smells like sunlight on warm grass, and old parchment and ink. It feels like coming home.
You are greeted by Knights you remember from your days in the creche, and introduce Yuuta to them. They are instantly taken by the young boy’s earnest charm, and you leave them to exchange pleasantries for a moment as you walk, taking in the familiar sights. Your comlink buzzes, but you choose to ignore it. 
The both of you settle into your new environment quickly. Yuuta blooms like a flower under the doting care of the older archivists who are overseeing your work for the week, and spends every moment he can outside. After the first day, you introduce him to the wonders of the sunburn ointment the archivists of the enclave make for people who spend as much time out in the sun as he has. Your comlink has been buzzing regularly since you arrived, and you’ve taken to leaving it in your quarters, trusting the enclave masters to let you know if any important messages come through for you while you’re in the archives. 
Four days into your trip, the enclave gets a ping from a distress beacon deep into the plains. You volunteer to investigate, bringing Yuuta along to help him with his field experience goals. In the interest of urgency, the two of you share one of the enclave’s speeder bikes, and you track the beacon to a grove of blba trees far to the north of the enclave. You leave the speeder bike a safe distance away, and reach out with the Force to try and assess the situation. Strangely, nothing appears when you cast your net, which sends a cold feeling trickling down your spine. Making a sign to Yuuta to be quiet, you approach the grove. 
The beacon is embedded in the ground, flashing and beeping in intervals. There are no bodies around it, and after further investigation, not even signs of conflict. Your feeling of dread intensifies; either this is a simple prank or a trap, and your instincts are telling you it’s the latter. 
“Hello, little light,” comes a smooth, deep voice from behind you. You straighten, and turn. Geto stands behind you, dappled in light and shadow underneath one of the trees. His hair is longer, and he’s clad in unfamiliar robes. A strange saber hilt is strapped to his waist, though he makes no move to draw it. “I have been waiting for this reunion for a long time. But before we can be properly reacquainted, I must speak to your young friend here.” 
Geto turns to Yuuta. “Greetings, young Padawan,” he calls from across the glade. “I am glad to finally meet you. The rumors I have heard about you are simply fascinating.” 
You step in between them. “Stay back, Geto,” you warn, hand on your saber. 
“I came simply to talk,” he raises his hands in a placating gesture. He looks over your shoulder, where Yuuta is watching warily. “My name is Suguru Geto, young one. My goal is to liberate those blessed by the Force in our wide universe. Those blessed with gifts like ours should have people at our beck and call, instead of being at someone else’s disposal, don’t you agree?”
“We have our gifts to defend the weak,” Yuuta recites, taking a step back. 
Geto clicks his tongue. “So new to the Order, and already reciting their scripture. Think, young Padawan, how many more people would we be able to help, to save, if things were different? Don’t you wish Rika could have been saved?” 
You hear Yuuta’s gasp, though he tries to hide it. “That’s enough, Geto.” You draw your saber, finger on the ignition. “Don’t make me fight you.” 
Geto ignores you, continuing to look at Yuuta. “Will you join me, Yuuta Okkotsu? All I want is to make the galaxy a safer place, one where young ones like you don’t have to become soldiers, and one where girls like Rika simply get to live.”
You hear Yuuta waver. You refuse to sway his emotions- you know this is a choice he must make on his own. He takes a step forward and your heart drops for a moment, before you hear the sound of his saber leaving his belt.
 “I’ve heard stories about you too, Suguru Geto,” Yuuta says, leveling his saber at the man. “I’m not sure that your vision for the galaxy is not one that Rika would have wanted to live in.”
“What a shame,” Geto shakes his head. “If you will not join me, then take a message back to your Masters. Either they bring you to Malachor within a month’s time, or I will unleash what I have learned in my time in the shadows on both this enclave and the Temple on Coruscant.”
Your blade ignites with a hiss. “That won’t  happen,” you level your blade, the tip pointing steadily at Geto. “Yuuta,” you call the Padawan’s name without breaking eye contact with your former friend. “Take the bike back to the enclave. Tell the Knights there what happened.” 
“I can’t leave-” Yuuta begins, but you cut him off.
“Go, Yuuta. It is my duty to protect you and the rest of the enclave. Tell them what happened, and return with reinforcements.” You feel the boy’s emotional conflict, and you use your abilities to bolster his resolve. He hesitates for another moment, before nodding and clipping his saber to his belt. 
“I’ll be back for you!” he calls over his shoulder as he darts to the bike. The engine roars to life and you hear him take off over the plains. 
The only sounds in the glade now is the wind rustling through the tall grass, and the hum of your lightsaber, still ignited and leveled at one whom you had once sworn never to raise a blade against.  
“What a loyal dog,” Geto shakes his head. “This is not quite what I had in mind for our reunion. Though if you insist we come to blows, I will indulge you.” He unclips his strange looking saber from his belt, and the scarlet blade roars to life with a crackle. You set your feet in your stance, lifting your blade to meet his as Geto comes flying at you. There is a sizzle and crackle as the blades cross, sparks flying in your vision as you stop his swing. 
You push back, using a blast of Force energy to break his guard and swing at his weak spot. He manages to leap out of the way of your blow, his robes fluttering on the wind. Your blades crash together, his scarlet saber crackling with a strange energy. It shoots off sparks that burn your hands and face, and you find yourself on your back foot, trying to guard against his powerful swings. 
In an attempt to regain some ground, you take a risk and drop under one of his swings, the sparking blade flying just past the top of your head. As you stand up, you position your saber in the path of his momentum, hoping that you’ll at least be able to wound him.  
Geto chuckles. In a flash, he’s caught your saber hand, twisting your sword arm off to the side as his momentum carries you both to the ground. “I taught you that move, little light. I appreciate your resolve, but I will not be felled by such a trick.” 
You watch his gaze drift lower, to where the collar of your robes has loosened. “Oh, what’s this, little light?” his free hand nudges aside your collar, revealing the shadow of the mark Gojo had left on you several nights before. “Who could have left this on you, little light?”
Geto powers off the saber he has held to your throat so he has clear access to your neck. He leans down, delicately sniffing along the skin that still bears the marks from your night of passion. “It was our dear friend Satoru, wasn’t it? I can practically smell him on you,” Geto purrs. “I did tell you to indulge, I suppose. I wish you would have waited, I wanted to indulge in you first.” 
“What’s your game, Geto?” you ask. You wiggle your fingers, trying to subtly get a grasp on the hilt of your saber.
 He clucks his tongue at you. “Now now, none of that,” he grabs your saber and clips it to his own belt, out of your reach. “I told you my plan- I want the boy. I’ve given those fools at the Temple everything they need: a reason to doubt a boy they already fear, and now I have you. You think Satoru wouldn’t give up that little apprentice of his to get you back?” Geto strokes a hand down your neck, pressing his thumb into the healing bruise just under your collar. 
“I suppose the question now is, would I give you back for one apprentice?” he muses, looking down at you. He slides his hand up, grasping your chin between his thumb and pointer finger. “There’s something about you that just makes me want to keep you, my plan be damned. I doubt you’d mind, you’d just be trading one pretty tower for another. Either way, you’re very important to what happens next, and I can’t have you trying anything that would only end up hurting you. So, sleep, little light. You’ll want the energy for what comes next.”
Geto’s smile is the last thing you see before your eyes close, the power of the Force command dragging you under. You feel him lifting you into his arms, tucking your head under his chin, and then the darkness takes you.
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hayatheauthor · 8 months
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Ten Websites Every Author Should Know In 2024
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When I started this blog, one of the first posts I penned was "Websites Every Author Should Know in 2023." Now, as I return to breathe new life into this platform in 2024, it feels only fitting to offer an updated edition of that beloved post. 
Whether you're struggling with brainstorming ideas, organizing your plot, finding publishing opportunities, or simply seeking some writing motivation, here are 10 websites that every author should know in 2024. 
1. Artbreeder
If you're anything like me, you know the frustration of staring at a blank page, waiting for inspiration to strike. Well, say goodbye to writer's block because Artbreeder is here to rescue you from the depths of creative stagnation.
At its core, Artbreeder is a brainstorming tool that harnesses the power of artificial intelligence to help you generate ideas and explore new avenues of creativity. Whether you're crafting characters, creating scene locations, or conceptualizing entire worlds, Artbreeder's AI can help you create any image. 
But don't just take my word for it. Countless writers, from aspiring novices to seasoned pros, have sung the praises of Artbreeder for its role in fueling their creative fire.
2.  OneStopForWriters
If you've ever found yourself drowning in a sea of character arcs, struggling to untangle a convoluted plot, or simply searching for that elusive spark of inspiration, then OneStopForWriters is here to be your guiding light.
At OneStopForWriters, you'll find a treasure trove of resources designed to empower writers at every stage of their journey. One of the standout features is its unparalleled collection of writing tools and resources. From character development worksheets and plot structure guides to brainstorming prompts and writing exercises, this platform offers a wealth of resources to help you hone your craft and overcome any writing challenge that comes your way.
3.  Milanote
With Milanote, organizing your thoughts has never been easier. Whether you're plotting out your next novel, storyboarding a film, or brainstorming ideas for your next project, Milanote's intuitive interface and versatile features make it a breeze to bring your ideas to life.
But Milanote isn't just about organization – it's about inspiration, too. Dive into Milanote's vast collection of templates, images, and resources, curated to spark your creativity and fuel your passion for storytelling.
And let's not forget about collaboration. With Milanote, you can seamlessly collaborate with fellow writers, sharing ideas, giving feedback, and working together to bring your collective vision to life. Let me know if you'd like to collab! 
4. Inkarnate
Whether you're a fantasy author crafting intricate realms, a sci-fi writer mapping out distant galaxies, or a historical fiction enthusiast recreating the past, Inkarnate is your ultimate tool for world-building.
With Inkarnate's powerful mapping tools and customizable features, creating stunning and detailed maps has never been easier. From sprawling continents to intricate cityscapes, Inkarnate allows you to bring every aspect of your world to life with breathtaking detail and precision.
But Inkarnate isn't just about maps – it's about storytelling. Dive into Inkarnate's vast library of assets, from characters and creatures to landmarks and landscapes, and use them to enrich your world and enhance your storytelling.
5. World Anvil
With World Anvil's array of interactive tools and features, you can meticulously craft every detail of your world, from its geography and history to its cultures and languages. Whether you're creating a sprawling fantasy realm, a dystopian future, or an alternate historical timeline, World Anvil provides the tools you need to breathe life into your creations.
But World Anvil is more than just a repository for world-building information. It's a platform for storytelling, collaboration, and engagement. Share your world with readers, invite them to explore its intricacies, and immerse them in the rich tapestry of your imagination
6.  Scrivener
At its core, Scrivener is a comprehensive writing software designed to meet the unique needs of authors, screenwriters, academics, and more. With its flexible interface and robust features, Scrivener allows you to organize your thoughts, structure your writing, and bring your ideas to life with ease.
One of Scrivener's standout features is its ability to break down your writing into manageable chunks, or "scrivenings," making it easy to focus on individual scenes, chapters, or sections of your manuscript. With its intuitive corkboard and outlining tools, you can visualize your project's structure and rearrange it on the fly.
But Scrivener is more than just a writing tool – it's a creative hub where ideas flourish and projects take shape. With its built-in research capabilities, you can keep all your notes, references, and inspiration in one place, ensuring that nothing gets lost in the shuffle.
7. Dabble
One of Dabble's standout features is its seamless integration of plotting, outlining, and writing tools. Whether you're a die-hard plotter or a pantser at heart, Dabble has the flexibility to accommodate your preferred writing style, allowing you to create detailed outlines, jot down notes, and dive into writing whenever inspiration strikes.
But Dabble is more than just a writing tool – it's a community of writers united by their love of storytelling and their commitment to helping each other succeed. Here, you'll find support, encouragement, and invaluable feedback as you navigate the ups and downs of the writing process.
With Dabble's cloud-based platform, you can access your work from anywhere, on any device, ensuring that your novel is always at your fingertips, whether you're at home, at work, or on the go.
8. Literature Map 
Literature Map is a visual mapping tool that helps you discover new authors and books based on your literary preferences. Whether you're a fan of classic literature, contemporary fiction, or niche genres, Literature Map provides personalized recommendations to help you expand your reading horizons.
Using Literature Map is as easy as typing in the name of an author you love. Instantly, a constellation of related authors appears, each connected by their thematic, stylistic, or genre similarities. From there, you can explore new authors, discover hidden gems, and embark on new reading adventures with confidence.
But Literature Map is more than just a recommendation engine – it's a gateway to a world of literary exploration and discovery. Here, you'll find a community of fellow book lovers, eager to share their favorite authors, discuss their latest reads, and connect with like-minded readers from around the globe.
That concludes our exploration of the 10 essential websites every author should know in 2024. May these tools and resources empower you on your writing journey, from the spark of inspiration to the final flourish of your manuscript. Happy writing, and may your creativity know no bounds!
I hope this blog on Ten Websites Every Author Should Know In 2024 will help you in your writing journey. Be sure to comment any tips of your own to help your fellow authors prosper, and follow my blog for new blog updates every Monday and Thursday.  
Looking For More Writing Tips And Tricks? 
Are you an author looking for writing tips and tricks to better your manuscript? Or do you want to learn about how to get a literary agent, get published and properly market your book? Consider checking out the rest of Haya’s book blog where I post writing and publishing tips for authors every Monday and Thursday! And don’t forget to head over to my TikTok and Instagram profiles @hayatheauthor to learn more about my WIP and writing journey! 
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oddinary4bts · 2 days
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☆last update: 23/09/2024
☆a/n: here is my new masterlist! It's going to be... a lot better than the old one hahaha. Please don't hesitate to send an ask if you want to talk. Fyi, requests are closed at the moment, so please do not send any! I always feel bad when I have to say no to your requests haha
masterlist guide
☆a for angst | s for smut | f for fluff
☆all the content on this masterlist is 18+ so minors, please DNI
☆warnings are on each series/fic directly, not here so please check them out!
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All rights reserved to @/oddinary4bts, 2022-2024. Do not copy, repost or translate.
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as you all know, I mostly post for BTS so here are each of the members' masterlist! In here you can find all one-shots, series, milestone celebrations (you can find the link to the prompt list for the celebrations on each one-shot) that I have written for BTS.
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EMOTIONS OF THE SOUL | a, s, f | one-shot when Namjoon reappears in your life after thirteen years of absence, you find yourself unsure of what he means to you, and of what you mean to him. Anxiety reigns over you, but will it be enough to drag you away from Kim Namjoon? ➳Namjoon's instalment of the Life Goes On series
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CAN I ASK YOU A QUESTION | s | one-shot Request!! Could you do 98 on the smut list with namjoon and reader? Maybe he wants to try getting fingered and is a little embarrassed because he’s normally in charge or something? Wherever your inspiration takes you!❤️❤️❤️ ➳part of a follower milestone celebration
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FOREVER | a, s, f | one-shot three years ago, your relationship with jin ended in fights and tears. When life puts him back on your path, you catch a glimpse of light in his eyes that you thought had died when you broke up. Will your relationship blossom into a well-deserved forever or will you lose the love of your life again? ➳Seokjin's instalment of the Life Goes On series
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NOW WE REIGN | a, s, f | one-shot when working on a collab together makes you and Min Yoongi seek comfort with the other, you discover there’s more to life than loneliness. Only, hurdles mark your path in Min Yoongi’s life, and it’s unclear what the outcome will be. Will you be destroyed by him and his world, or will you learn to reign over it, together with him? ➳Yoongi's instalment of the Life Goes On series
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SINFUL LUST | a, s, a bit of f | series in an attempt to spice up your bedroom life with your boyfriend Min Yoongi, you suggest bringing another man into the action. Yoongi seems reluctant at first, but when you mention his friend Jeon Jungkook, he can’t deny his attraction. All that’s left to do is to convince Jungkook into participating...
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THE WORST COWORKER YOU'VE EVER HAD | s | one-shot Ooooh how about a little enemies to ? Smut with Yoongi where OC/reader makes him come his pants? Little sassy/angry/ bratty vibes? Prompt 58 from the smut list? Feel free to adjust however inspires you!! Love your work!! ➳part of a follower milestone celebration
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TWO HUNDRED AND NINETEEN DAYS | a, f | one-shot Ella! Congrats on your milestone, you deserve it! Can I request this one from the fluff list, with Hobi please? 23. “I fell for you without even knowing it and, jesus, does it hurt that you can’t see it.” ➳part of a follower milestone celebration
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I WANT TO BE WITH YOU | a, f, s | one-shot moving to Seoul has always seemed like a good idea, until the bubble bursts when you realize your new neighbor is Park Jimin, and he's not the sweet angel you've always imagined him to be. Will the reality of Park Jimin forever be a nightmare, or will he turn into a sweet dream? ➳Jimin's instalment of the Life Goes On series
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CRAZY FOR YOU | s, a, f | one-shot you’ve known Kim Taehyung your whole life. When you meet again at a party hosted by your best friend, alcohol looses your lips and you spill your secrets to your childhood crush. Will Taehyung give in to your desire, or will you be struck by remorse? ➳Taehyung's instalment of the Life Goes On series
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THE BOY WITH GALAXIES IN HIS EYES | s, a, f | one-shot you had never thought the night sky could be found in someone’s eyes. That is, until you met Jeon Jungkook and his gravity pulled you in. Will he crush you with the galaxies in his eyes, or will you learn to explore his worlds and make them yours? ➳Jungkook's instalment of the Life Goes On series THE FIRST TIME | s | drabble ➳a The Boy with Galaxies in His Eyes story
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SINFUL LUST | a, s, a bit of f | series in an attempt to spice up your bedroom life with your boyfriend Min Yoongi, you suggest bringing another man into the action. Yoongi seems reluctant at first, but when you mention his friend Jeon Jungkook, he can’t deny his attraction. All that’s left to do is to convince Jungkook into participating...
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THE FORGOTTEN SPACES | a, s, f | series you've been dancing on the same dance crew since your teenage years, and you finally have an important role in it. It feels like life is taunting you when your rival comes back after disappearing for a year, ready to tease you every chance he gets. Will the teasing turn into more, or are you going to take him down with you? ➳sequel of What Was Hidden, a Taehyung fic written by @daechwitatamicrecs
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WHEN THE END COMES | a, s, f | series seven years after you've started dating Jungkook, long distance creates a wedge in your relationship. When the only solution seems to be breaking up, you go your separate ways even though love still lives in the two of you. Will you find a way back together, or has the end come for you and Jeon Jungkook? ➳The Forgotten Spaces' sequel
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NOVEMBER SUN | a | one-shot whenever he breaks, the november sun shines on him. and jungkook chases you across the sky - but you've gone some place he can't reach you now.
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TO GIVE A HELPING HAND | s, a, f | series ch 1 | ch 2 | ch 3 you’re a fan, you're untouchable, yet Jungkook finds he’s far too attracted to you.
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CHASING CARS | s, a, f | series when your brother goes to study on a semester abroad, your life collides with his best friend Jeon Jungkook, who's coincidentally your roommate. Will you survive the collision, or will you crumble into dust?
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COFFEE STAIN | a | one-shot you grief, and it’s the expression of your everlasting love for Jungkook.
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WHAT'S WRONG? | a, f | one-shot hii i have an angsty drabble request for jk x reader pleasee but with a happy ending :) Reader overhears Jungkook talk to his friends and mention how she’s always clinging on to him and doesn’t let him breathe sometimes and that she’s annoying because she’s too loud and energetic. When he comes back home she acts the complete opposite and tries to avoid him without letting him know what’s going on, until he realises that he actually prefers her clingy and loud🥺 Sorry if i went into too much detail ➳part of a follower milestone celebration
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THE BANE OF YOUR EXISTENCE | s, a | one-shot A drabble with jungkook, smut 87 and angst 12 / 99, tysm 💘💘💘💘 ➳part of a follower milestone celebration
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THE COINCIDENCE OF FATE | f | one-shot Hey!!! Do u think u could make an JJK FF about two people falling in love bc of fate and coincidences? ➳part of a follower milestone celebration
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LET ME KISS YOUR MOM | f | one-shot Okay so I saw this pic and almost cried cuz he looks so sweet and happy! Could I get something fluffy about dad jk? Maybe yall went surprise him at a performance or shoot or u can make up something else just the vibes I got from this pic made me (please see the post for the pic) ➳part of a follower milestone celebration
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HAPPY BIRTHDAY | a, f | one-shot In that case I’ll request jungkook x oc with angst and fluff❤️‍🩹 He forgets her birthday😭😭 ➳part of a follower milestone celebration
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I do not have a lot of skz fics so I don't have much to say except that I hope you enjoy it <3
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ALWAYS BEEN YOU | a, f | one-shot when two estranged best friends meet again at their friends' wedding, an old spark reignites. You swear to yourself that you won't fall for Hyunjin again, until alcohol blurs the line between you two. Is it your fault if you find yourself drowning in the familiarity that is him?
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and last but not least, here are my ateez fics! hope you guys enjoy these ones just as much as you enjoyed the rest <3
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LOVE IS A LASERQUEST | a, s | one-shot years after your break-up, Choi San comes to you for help. In an attempt to save his life, you escape to your uncle's cabin in the woods far from civilization. Will nostalgia and longing make you fall again, or is Choi San just spinning more lies to you?
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BE WITH YOU | s, a, f | series coming soon
you've come to the end of my masterlist. if you have any questions, or want to discuss any of my fics, don't hesitate to send an ask!
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