#rapturous galaxy

[fudgecake-charlie]

Cosmic Chaos: A skyduo space apocalypse harbinger AU!

A human-turned-entitity and an entity-turned-human are given the gargantuan task of leaving the sentient Universe in ruins to prepare for Its approaching death. My beloved and incredibly not thought through AU with Grian and Pearl from September! I missed drawing them. If you have ideas or questions for this AU please feel free to leave something in my inbox! I am not great at answering questions (worse now I'm in uni) but I’ll try my best to reply. [P.S: extra thoughts in the og tags; uncropped and extra drawings on my twitter somewhere.]

[thedarlingdearestdead]

Piloting:

Summary: You are an innocent padawan just trying to get some flying experience. Anakin gets quite close and personal... P2 here!

Warnings: None, kissing.

Word count: 1,470

The control room was buzzing with energy, the action hadn’t begun yet, in fact you had barely entered deep space. That didn’t stop the round chamber being filled with voices, nervous and excited all at once. It was a diplomatic mission but with some high profile guests. And one very high profile, up and coming Jedi. Anakin Skywalker was in charge of escorting the ships path to Alderaan. It was a new starship, one of the first of its kind in the entire galaxy. It was kind of a big deal. You supposed that was why it got such an infamous man as its a protector.

Your own master had remained of Courasant, giving you this mission was a part of your pilots training. You were one of many people charged with flying the large ship, all sitting before a large globe-like window at the front of the vessel. It was beautiful. 

Not that you were getting much of a look outside. Indeed, the information which was being processed on your holo in front of you was almost too much for you, flying down the page at a million miles per second, you could barely look up. Trying to type, do calculations and stay updated on the latest feed all at once, you barely recognised the change in atmosphere. 

But then, a sudden silence fell over the room. You finally looked up from your holo to see what had caused it, and that's when you saw him. Just at your flank, an intimidating figure in black, messy curly hair, bright blue eyes. He had an eager grin on his face as he looked around the large cockpit. 

Anakin walked down the stairs in the centre to talk to the captain, his voice was quiet but animated, though his posture was reserved- most likely aware that he was being watched by the rest of the room. 

Your eyes flicker down to your work as he continues his conversation, trying not to get distracted from your task. It was already bad enough being on battlefields with him, surrounded by smoke and chaos. Here in a relatively quiet, well lit, stunning new room in the middle of outer space, you could feel his presence becoming an issue. 

He claps the captain on the back congenially and walks back up the rows of seated crew, surveying various screen and rapturously taking in the information. Anakin loved flying, stories of his landings were popular gossip among the other cadets that you often trained with.

You were sucked back into your work, tapping almost habitually now on your keyboard and zoning out, focused completely on the numbers in front of you. That’s when you feel a shadow on your left. General Skywalker had made his way to your section of the long desk and was scanning your holo even as you worked. He leaned in closer. Then closer still. You jolted as one of his hands went to the back of your chair, the metal one, and the other lay on your desk. He was practically crouching over the surface, overcrowding your space entirely. 

You couldn’t breathe. And you couldn't deny the thrill that ran down your spine at his proximity.

"Is everything running smoothly, L/N“ His voice was low, curious and amused, he could clearly sense the effect he was having on you. 

You swallowed hard, trying desperately to focus on the task at hand. "Yes, sir," you managed to reply, hoping your voice didn't betray the flutter in your stomach.

Anakin chuckled, the sound deep and rich. "Relax, pilot. We're not in the middle of a battle. There's no need to be so tense."

You forced yourself to take a deep breath, trying to calm your racing heart. But it was difficult with Anakin so close, his scent enveloping you - a mixture of metal and leather and something distinctly, dangerously, male.

You tried to ignore the proximity, but the warmth of his body radiating behind you was making it difficult to concentrate. Anakin's breath tickled the shell of your ear as he leaned even closer to look at your screen. His metal hand grazed your shoulder as he pointed at something on the display, sending shivers down your spine.

"Is that the trajectory for the hyperdrive jump?" he asked, his voice confident and clear in the echoing hangar.

You nodded, trying to keep your focus on the screen. It was hard to keep your composure with Anakin so close. You could smell the spicy cologne he wore, and it was intoxicating.

"Good work," Anakin praised, nodding at you and looking you in your stunned eyes.

But it passed so suddenly and he was looking out on the entire crew now, “Good work all of you. Looks like it’ll be smooth sailing from here.”

The tension in your body dissipated as Anakin walked away, but you couldn't shake the feeling of his warm breath on your neck. You tried to push the sensation out of your mind and focus on your work, but it was no use. The rest of the journey felt endless, your mind constantly wandering to the magnetic presence of Anakin Skywalker.

When the ship finally arrived at Alderaan, you couldn't help but feel relieved that the journey was over. You quickly gathered your things and made your way out of the cockpit, eager to finally get some fresh air, recuperate your composure and energy for the flight back in a couple of days. You were staying on planet for the weekend before being due back at the Temple. But as you stepped out of the ship, you were met with a surprising sight.

Anakin was waiting there, leaning against the side of the ship, his arms crossed over his chest. He looked up as you approached, his eyes immediately locking onto yours. You felt your cheeks flush as you tried to keep calm. Your grip tightened on your bag and you nodded at him in greeting, silently praying that he would let you leave. 

But Anakin didn't falter, instead he pushed himself off the ship and walked towards you, his eyes never leaving yours. You couldn't help but feel a little intimidated by him as he approached, his imposing figure towering over you. He stopped just inches away from you, his eyes scanning your face as if searching for something.

"You did well on the flight," he said, his voice low and husky. "I was impressed. Your master speaks very highly of you"

Your heart skipped a beat at his compliment, but you tried to remain passive. "Thank you, sir," you replied, keeping your voice steady. 

“It’s an amazing opportunity working on big ships like this one, and for her maiden voyage…” His voice is fond as he looks back at the ship behind you two. “Though I couldn’t help feel you were slightly distracted at one point.”

“Sir?”

He comes in closer to you, bending down, mouth right next to your ear. ”Did my presence make you nervous?"

You swallowed hard, feeling a blush creeping up your neck. “You have a way of... commanding attention.”

Anakin straightened up slightly, his eyes locking onto yours. "I can't help it," he admitted, a playful glint in his eyes. 

“You didn’t have to get so close.”

“I really was checking the engine stats”

“And after?”

“Well… Then I suppose I was checking on you.”

You swallowed hard, feeling a rush of heat flood through your body.

Anakin's expression grew more serious as he leaned in once again, his warm breath ghosting over your cheek. "I can't deny that I'm drawn to you, L/N. There's something about you that I can't resist," he murmured, his voice low and gravelly.

Your heart was pounding in your chest as a million thoughts raced through your mind. You couldn't believe that the legendary Anakin Skywalker was showing interest in you, a padawan. 

Before you could even process what was happening, Anakin's lips were on yours, kissing you hard and possessively. You moaned into the kiss, your body responding instinctively to his touch. His metal hand slid down your back, pulling you closer to him as he continued to kiss you with a hunger that took your breath away.

For a moment, you forgot where you were, lost in the sensation of his lips on yours. But then you pulled back, gasping for air.

"I couldn't help myself," he whispered, his lips brushing against your earlobe. 

You pulled back further, your hands still clutching your bag. "We can't, not here. Not now," you blurted.

”I know," he replied softly, taking a step back. “We have all weekend though.” He picks up your bag which you had dropped in the moment of passion and carries it towards the doors in an obvious sign for you to follow. Gobsmacked, you do. 

[remembrancer-of-heresy]

The Womb

Summary: You become Horus' cupbearer, unaware of the true role he has prepared for you.

Horus Lupercal/fem!Reader

Warnings: yandere, obsession, power imbalance, manipulation, forced medical procedures, breeding kink, dubcon

Word count: 4008

Author's note: Well, first of all, this is the most uncomfortable drabble I've ever written. Traitor Horus is a creepy dude. Secondly, I found the song he listens to every time before he goes to see his wife.

Song: Le Destroy - Breed

Crack the whip, break the skin Breed, breed, breed Take it out, push it back in Breed, breed, breed, breed

War spared no one. Neither the weak nor the strong, neither adults nor children. Everyone suffered, trying to find salvation in a Galaxy drowning in flames. You were one of trillions of people thrown out to be slaughtered at the whim of the Emperor and the Warmaster.

It didn't matter who you were in your past life. Whether you had many rights or were almost on the level of serfs. Whether you could provide yourself with everything you needed or you had to work until you were exhausted. All that mattered was that you were weak and defenseless. Meat that could drown the ambitions of demigods.

But instead of sending you to work like other slaves, they prepared a different fate for you. A much more luxurious and safe life than in your past. At least that's what they told you. They promised you a bright future, but you didn't believe a single word of it. How can the future be bright when worlds are burning in the fire of battle, and people are captured on ships like cattle?

You couldn't hope for anything good. Especially when you were told that you would be the personal cup-bearer of the Warmaster himself. The slaves who explained the rules of the job to you, preening you along the way, tried to calm your cries. They said that he was very kind to his personal servants. Besides, he chose you himself. Of all people, fortune smiled on you.

Perhaps you could have believed them, convinced yourself that everything would be fine. But you saw pity in their eyes. Saw relief. "It's good that it wasn't me," they thought. And it would have been better if they had said these words, and not the ones they constantly said out loud.

He likes you.

Damn them, they could have kept silent for the sake of sympathy. But sitting on the floor in the Warmaster's chambers, you wanted to hear their babble again. If only not to sit in this oppressive silence. Perhaps one day you would have been glad to be on the "Vengeful Spirit" and serve the primarch. But now you would gladly refuse such an "honor".

As soon as you hear the door creak, you immediately rise. You hope that your master will not see you trembling. He will ignore your reddened eyes and not pay attention. Hoping that Lupercal will show mercy to you and let you go would be too stupid and naive. Besides, as the slaves said, he desperately needed a cup-bearer.

He likes you.

Looking at the primarch, you were stunned. Thoughts got confused in your head, and your lips parted, unable to squeeze out sounds. Before you stood a massive giant, a creation of the highest human mind. A man who cannot be looked at without awe. One of the best warriors and politicians of the Imperium. The most beloved son of the Emperor. At least what he used to be.

Now before you stood a primarch who looked more like a daemon than a man. Horus' once beautiful face had become gray and old. But even with his short grey hair and wrinkles, the Warmaster looked like an old man, but he wasn't. He still towered over humanity and was ready to live a long, if not immortal, life. His bright, hellish eyes practically screamed it.

It is said that the sight of a Primarch would make weak-willed people weep in awe or even faint. Those who could cope with such feelings still felt the rapture of meeting the son of the Emperor himself. But you felt no awe. Only pure fear.

Horus smiled softly at the emotion he evoked in you. It only made you tremble more. How could such a gentle smile appear on the face of pure evil? As if Lupercal still saw himself as a hero despite the atrocities he had committed.

“Please, do not fear me. I promise I will not harm you.” - the Primarch slowly approached you and knelt down, as if talking to a wild, frightened animal. - “What is your name?”

You barely whisper your name, hoping not to burst into tears. And yet, a small worm of hope stirs in your brain. The Primarch probably knew your name, but still asked it out of politeness. Or out of a desire to calm you down. Perhaps he really will not hurt you?

“A very beautiful name, like its owner.” - your cheeks warm up and, under someone else’s laughter, you shyly lower your eyes to the Primarch’s chest. - “You will have simple duties. Clean the chambers, serve me drinks and food if I ask. And be near. I ask no more. Will you do this for me?”

You nod, thinking over his words, as if tasting them. Such a kind attitude towards you from the Warmaster baffled you. But he has no reason to deceive you. So why not let the man circle you like a wolf in sheep's clothing? As long as he keeps it on, you are safe.

“Yes, Warmaster.” Your voice is quiet compared to the Primarch. You cannot see his terrible face, but you feel it spread into a smile. You imagine it on a younger, truly kind Horus, not on your master.

“I am very glad to hear that.” The man's hand twitches slightly, as if to touch you. But instead, he rises from his knees and walks towards the table, leaving you behind. You inhale, realizing that you have not been breathing at that moment.

***

The job was easy, really. Horus Lupercal didn't ask much of you. Although you had a hard time handling the jug in your hands. But the primarch lowered the cup low enough for you to pour wine into it. He didn't have to do that, and yet the primarch took into account the difference in size.

He might not have cared about your needs. Yet you got the most comfortable, the best room among the slaves. In addition, your quarters adjoined the primarch's chambers. And you did not have to worry about who or what you would meet on the way to your lord. When you realized that the bedding was made of silk, you gulped. As a free citizen of the Imperium, you could not even imagine such luxury.

But that was just the tip of the iceberg. Your closet (you had a closet!) was filled with a huge number of sets of clothes. Including shoes and underwear. And even though it was obviously a servant's clothing, it was made of too fine a material. Too beautiful. The Sons of Horus pattern stood out in particular.

And that's not even mentioning your rations. Not to mention slaves, many free citizens of the Imperium could never afford such a sumptuous meal. Your entire diet was carefully selected. The food was tasty and healthy, and considering that you were forced to eat strictly at certain times, your stomach was always full.

You felt safe. Safer than ever. And the Warmaster was a kind. Even though you were frightened by his appearance and the deeds he had done, even now he exuded an inhuman charisma that confused you. His care was suffocating, but you could not refuse it.

Deep down, you hated the Emperor's beloved son, now a traitor, for what he had done to your home world. For what he had turned the Galaxy into, which he had once sworn to protect. But alas, with each day that Horus spoke to you, the burning feeling of rage gradually faded.

“You know, my sons used to attend the Iterators’ classes.” - the man’s voice is filled with sadness and you look in surprise at the Warmaster, who has thoughtfully settled into his glass. - “There will come a time when the wars will end, and my soldiers must be prepared for a peaceful life. So I said.”

Lupercal winces and throws back all the liquid before slamming the cup down on the table. You take your time filling it, unable to take your eyes off the man. The conversation is too frank for you to simply brush it aside.

“I love war. It’s in my blood. But I also love peace, I wanted the Crusade to come to an end. And for my sons to receive the recognition they deserved. For all the blood they shed for humanity.”

A wicked grin appears on the old man's face and you clutch the jug tighter.

“But not my father. Not the False Emperor. He wanted to get rid of us as Thunder Warriors. We were always tools, but I did not think he was truly going to destroy us. Did all those thirty years I spent with him on Terra mean nothing? I really, truly, unlike my brothers… saw him as my father.”

A crushing silence falls in the chambers. And although you still feel fear and the thin thread of hatred has not yet completely broken. You already feel something different towards Horus. A bright feeling that you did not think you would feel towards this monster. Sympathy.

“I am sure you would have been a better father.” - the words escape on their own, but you do not regret what you said. You really thought so, listening to the Warmaster's stories about his sons. Even about the “prodigal sons,” traitors like Loken, Horus spoke with unprecedented sadness. And with the hope of meeting again.

You see how something breaks in the man. Was it your imagination or were there uninvited tears in his terrible eyes? But the man only smiles brightly at you and holds out a cup, which you immediately begin to fill. Trying to ignore the primarch’s devouring gaze.

“Thank you, my dear. It means a lot to me.”

It is only praise. Just gratitude for kind words. Recognition from a mortal girl who will continue to remain in the shadows. You repeated all these soothing words to yourself, scolding your long tongue. Only it was too difficult to ignore the strange tension between the two of you.

And this was only the beginning.

With each passing day, you became more and more entangled in the nets kindly laid out by the Warmaster. You were afraid of his behavior, you saw that there was a ruthless monster in front of you. But you couldn’t help yourself, willingly following his lead. There was something bright in the man, which made you simply open up to him.

He increasingly talked to you about his past, hopes and dreams. You listened to his stories with unprecedented interest, akin to awe. Not because Horus chose you as a personal listener or remembrancer, if you could say so. It’s just that at such moments you forgot where you were, drowning in thoughts under the man’s voice.

And if before you tried to behave as quietly as possible, now you did not hold back your emotions. If before you stood still like a wooden soldier, now you could sprawl right in the chair and put your hands under your head. But most of all, Horus liked it when you were located on the floor right at his feet. This is how children usually sit when listening to a fairy tale.

“You had a terrible childhood.” - you purse your lips, pulling your knees to you. - “It’s terrible when your whole life has to be tied to death and battles. Especially from birth.”

“I didn’t approve of such rules either, but they appeared on Cthonia for a reason. Radiation, lack of resources, dangerous lands. You’re right, it’s not the best place for a child.” - the man looks into the distance, delving into his memories. - “But it was my “birth” there that brought peace to this lost planet. And I will bring it again when I arrive on Terra.”

Horus smiles softly at you and you smile back uncertainly. You couldn’t say exactly when you stopped being afraid of his inhuman appearance. And although the Warmaster sometimes withdrew into himself and it seemed to you that he was talking to himself, you became more and more attached to him.

You want to ask more about the gangs, but a sudden knock on the door confuses your plans. You quickly get up from the floor and move away from Horus, looking at him uncertainly. Should you open the door and let the guest in? You had already forgotten that there were other people on the Vengeful Spirit. And not only mortals.

But Lupercal stops you encouragingly with his hand before saying, “Enter.” You turn into a shadow again, and, having glanced at the Space Marine unnoticed, you even want to hide under the blanket, like a little girl.

Perhaps once, like his gene father, he was handsome. But now a man with the same disfigured appearance stood before the Warmaster. The new sewn-on face looked too unnatural on the man. And hearing that the guest was called Little Horus, you only cringed from the specific humor of fate.

But the worst thing was his look. Not because it was blazing with hellfire, not because they were covered in blood. It was just that Aximand occasionally, but still looked. Glanced at you. Like a beast ready to attack. You felt his invisible hands wandering over your body, stopping at places that were especially interesting to him.

When you had to pour wine for Little Horus, it was hard to stop trembling. He was still talking to the Warmaster, but at the same time he was staring at your face. Not at all embarrassed by his behavior. The worst thing was when before leaving, he turned to the Primarch, but he immediately answered “No.” You looked at the Warmaster with gratitude, who was smiling reassuringly at you.

“Please forgive my son. He is not yet accustomed to the presence of women.” - your uncomprehending look caused the Primarch to chuckle. - “I told you that my father planned to destroy all the Legions? It was for this reason that he took away my sons'... desire. So that they would never even think of creating a new generation of men."

The gears in your head begin to turn like a machine. You look at Horus in disbelief. "And you-"

"Yes. I gave them back what was taken from them. Of course, not all of them have fully grasped their new needs yet. And some can be a little... rough. But they learn quickly." - the primarch lowers his gaze to the bowl, speaking too slowly and quietly, almost seductively. - "Though I would welcome someone to show Little Horus what tenderness is. My son has been deprived of it for so long. He deserves a little peace, don't you think?"

Your silent and stunned expression said it all for you. The man chuckles, reminding you of a very pleased wolf.

"Well, all in good time."

***

You are becoming more and more confused. You do not understand what role fate has prepared for you. Why can't life be simpler? The fact that the servant (even though you were the Warmaster's own cupbearer) had her own servitors was already a misunderstanding. But when Horus inquired about you undergoing the necessary medical procedures, it became completely uncomfortable.

You were not tortured. One could even say that they took care of you all these weeks. They conducted medical examinations, treated you extremely tenderly, as if you were made of porcelain. But at the same time, they clearly performed operations. About which they told you nothing, not devoting you to a single detail.

Once you burst into tears in front of one of the medics and said that you were scared. You do not understand what they are doing to your body. But the woman stroked your hair and assured you that all the augmentations were personally approved by the Warmaster. They will noticeably improve your life and make your body strong enough.

"Strong for what?" the woman never answered.

The last time you went to the medic, you woke up in bed, expecting everything to be calm, like the last time. But in your lower abdomen, you felt a pain like you'd never felt before. It was like someone had punched your uterus multiple times, turning it into mush. You quickly pulled the covers away before sobbing loudly.

There was blood between your legs. Too much blood. All the white sheets were covered in it. Where did you get so much blood? Are you bleeding internally? Gasping, you touched your lower lips, unaware of anything wrong, before moving your hands to your stomach. You felt nothing. Nothing. But something was wrong. You couldn't be bleeding that much.

Did they cut out your organs? Did they put something in you? What did they do?!

“Am I dying?” Your muffled wheeze escaped through the flood of tears as you desperately thought about what to do. “I'm dying. Cut it out, take it away. What's inside me? What's there?"

You didn't notice when the medics managed to enter before you felt yourself being pressed hard into the bed. Panic attack. Hormones kicked in. Full compatibility with implants. Bless Chaos. What are they talking about?! But even if you had the strength to resist, it quickly leaves you as soon as the needle pierces your arm.

Darkness covers you. But instead of saving and peaceful calm, you find yourself in a nightmare. You hear the disgusting laughter of the people around you. No. Daemons. They laugh at your sacrifice, at your suffering.

They want to swallow your soul. Tear your body to shreds. But the only thing they can do is drip saliva on you. And laugh. And whisper. About how soft and pliable you are now. How easily you will stretch and fill up. What wonderful meat and functional organs you have. How well you have been transformed into prime cattle.

Into womb.

***

This time the bed is warm. And so damn soft. You feel like you're sinking into it like a little kitten. You wish you could curl up into a fetal position and never get up. But a noise nearby reminds you that you can't hide in this place. That you'll never be alone.

You slowly open your eyes and lift yourself up on your elbows. You realize with surprise that you're right in the Primarch's bed. The man, unarmored, is sitting on the edge of the bed. Bright yellow eyes are watching you. A gentle smile appears on his face.

"See, Sanguinius? I told you she was strong." You looked around the Primarch's chambers in confusion. There was no one else there. A chuckle was heard nearby. "She's so cute under the anaesthetic. Now leave us alone, brother."

You pull the blanket up to your chin, not taking your eyes off Horus. The chambers are unusually dark, only a few lamps are lit. But it seems to you that even if the room were pitch black, you would still see the primarch.

“He’s gone, you have nothing to fear.” - the man moves closer and puts his hand on your leg. It would be easy for him to break your bone. - “The medic has been given a full report on your condition. All operations were successful. But how are you?”

Your heart squeezes from the knife of betrayal. He promised that you would not be harmed. That you would not be hurt.

“What operations?” - your throat is hoarse from tears, and your eyes have long since dried out. - “Horus, what have they done to me?” - panic again engulfed you from head to toe as soon as you remembered the liters of blood. You began to choke from an excess of emotions.

Seeing what was happening to you, the man pulled you to his chest. Softly and tenderly hugging as much as his strength allowed. You pressed your cheek to his massive chest, trying to even out your breathing. The smell of sulfur permeated the clothes and body of the primarch.

“You have been prepared, dear.” - the man’s languid voice envelops you, penetrating into your insides. You want to run away, but Horus squeezes you too tightly. - “Taking a man is quite a difficult experience for a woman. And a primarch even more so. But I want to do everything right. So that our child is born as it should be. Like a human.”

The words left your mind. You felt deceived, so pathetic and insignificant that you had no strength to fight. You could not and did not want to blame the Warmaster for anything. Just let it all end. Just let him shut up. But as always, Horus opened his soul to you.

“I love all my sons. And yet, it was not I who did not raise them. I was not in their lives from the very beginning. I had never had a connection with any of them as strong as I had with my father. I wanted to feel that same feeling, but in a different way. To be an example. To be a mentor. To be a real father. But better.”

“My legacy will not be grown in test tubes and used as a tool.” - the Primarch’s tone darkens and becomes lower, which makes you press yourself closer to the man you want to hide from. - “I will not get rid of them. I will not abandon them. I will be a better father than my own. And you-”

Horus unhooks you from his torso, still holding your shoulders. You can hear your own heartbeat in your ears and how your whole body is stretched like a string. A monstrous smile lights up his old gray face, and his eyes burn brighter than ever, promising a future you have never seen before.

The Primarch slowly lowers you onto the bed, undressing you along the way. You can only sniffle and continue to watch. Continue to listen. All the slaves said you were lucky. But no one promised you that everything would be so easy. You yourself are to blame for your naivety.

“My father may not have wanted grandchildren, but Chaos was kind enough to tell me how to make them. The best specimens were collected, capable of enduring surgery and occultism. But of all of them, I chose you.” - a monstrous palm gently touches your cheek. - “I liked you immediately. So pure, so kind, so fragile. The perfect mother for my true sons.”

Your now naked body is covered in goosebumps from the cold. But as soon as the Primarch is on top of you, waves of warmth pass through you. Tears gather in the corners of your eyes, but instead of withdrawing into yourself or pushing the man away, you cling to him. Hug him.

You are scared and alone. But beyond these chambers, it is even more terrible. You could have ended your life in grueling work or under the weight of a Space Marine. You could have been experimented on by soulless people or devoured by daemons.

But Horus will protect you. He was evil, he breathed it, he was the very embodiment of darkness. And yet the way he spoke of you with tenderness, the way he touched you... you won't have a better option. You may have fallen into the clutches of a wolf, but with you he would gladly wear the skin of a sheep, if only you were not afraid of him. If only you loved him.

"I'm sorry that you are afraid. You see me as a monster, for I was created for war. But I sincerely wish for peace." - the man whispers in your ear and you are surprised to realize that he is crying. - "And after the death of the Emperor, it will come. I promise you."

You sigh, feeling a foreign organ between your legs. But your renewed body, albeit with a stretch, still accepts the primarch. You say nothing to Horus, instead allowing yourself to cry quietly. While your body fulfills its intended role. And you know that this promise will not be kept either.

[dogearedheart]

Saying,"God, I'm alive," but the whole place is quite

[enlightenment, d. alan holmes || the rapture, supernatural || when galaxies get too close, dirk h. lorenzen || much ado about nothing, william shakespeare || heliocentric, keith s. wilson || on the pin of a head, supernatural || the great escapist, supernatural || lazarus rising, supernatural || anthem, leonard cohan || unity, supernatural || despair, supernatural || the last scene in the movie, eleanor hsieh || all along the watchtower || what's up, tiger mommy?, supernatural || gargantua black hole || rumi || still, noah kahan]

[sonofthedunes]

to all my lovely followers, merry christmas….or should i say, merry slutsmas? yes, i have prepared for you a naughty yuletide treat, a thanks to everyone who has joined me on this wacky trip through revitalized star wars fandom and luke stanning. so below the cut, partake in a peek at our boy engaging in some “self-care.” italics are his fantasy, regular text is the real world. i’ve kept descriptions of his partner vague so that you can use your imaginations. whether you’d like it to be yourself or an oc, to frame this story as before the pair hooks up or during a time when they’re separated—i’ll leave that up to you! here’s to a hilarious, horny, heartwarming 2024. may the force be with you. enjoy!

(MINORS DNI)

this gentle art

He can picture her so clearly, as if she stands before him now in the darkened confines of his room. Her hair, her eyes, the smile on her lips: all lovely—and all making his heart beat that much faster. He swallows, staring back at her wide-eyed. Can she tell, he wonders? Can she sense how much he wants her, how desperate his need has grown?

An involuntary groan of relief escapes him as his hand finally encircles his cock; freed from the confines of his trousers, throbbing and angry-red, it twitches and leaks a single clear drop. Teeth digging into his lower lip, he slicks his length with his own essence. He settles back and allows his eyes to drift closed as he begins teasing the head. All the better to focus on his fantasy….

She sits on the bed beside him, runs a hand over his blushing cheek. “I hope I didn’t keep you waiting,” she says softly.

“No!” he insists. “No, I…this is fine.”

“Good.” She leans forward and kisses him—quite faintly at first, then more ardently as he eagerly responds. Their mouths open, their tongues slide between their lips like keycards in a lock. He gasps a little when she tugs his body closer, the combined heat sending a thrill up his spine. Daring to lay her hand against his aching groin, he receives a delighted moan in response. “Stars, you’re so hard…need you inside me.” He’s more than willing to oblige.

He’s fighting his own urges, knowing he could finish by fucking his fist quicker than an ash-rabbit. No, he wants this to last…every delicious moment of it will be his. So he drags his fingers up and down the shaft at a measured pace, huffing and cursing under his breath at how unbelievably right it feels. Of course he indulges in a bit of self-pleasure now and then, most young humans do, but…it never feels as satisfying as it does when he thinks about her. So sweet, so soft, everything he could ever desire.

Their clothes are fumbled off into wrinkled heaps on the bedroom floor, and he helps position her on his lap. The tight, warm wetness enveloping his cock as she sinks onto it—surely no feeling in the galaxy could compare to this. “Oh fuck,” she whimpers. “Feels so good…”

His head is swimming with rapture, his hands gripping her hips. “You don’t…you don’t know how long I wanted this,” he manages.

She giggles breathlessly. “I can guess.” Slender arms drape themselves around his neck. With a slow roll of her pelvis she begins fucking him, and he swears through gritted teeth with an energy that surprises them both. His fingers dig into her hips, guiding her forward and back, and he leans in to sloppily kiss her collarbone.

At some point he opened his eyes and now finds himself gazing on his handiwork: left hand curled around his swollen cock, caressing it from root to tip, occasionally smearing precum around the head. His chest heaves with every breath, occasionally accompanied by a small “hah,” and he can feel his sweat rapidly cooling in the room’s circulating air. This is what the mere thought of her does to him. And he loves it.

The dull slap of flesh against flesh fills the bedroom, mixing with their moans and hoarse words of praise. “Fuuuuck, right there,” she begs, driving herself down to take him deeper; he decides to help and moves with her, angling at precisely the right spot to draw forth a broken cry.

“Like this?” he asks rhetorically, hands wandering and mouth ghosting at her neck. She whines lustfully as he bucks up into her. A moment later she shudders when he lowers his head to her breasts; he kisses them, then sucks a nipple into his mouth and rolls his tongue around the peak, not switching sides until it’s like a diamond between his lips. And all the time they fuck, giving and taking in equal measure.

What he wouldn’t do for just five minutes with those perfect tits! Imagining their softness, the way they’d bounce with every thrust, is enough to tighten his grip and increase his speed. But he’s been nearing that point regardless. His patience is paying off: the slow embers of his climax kindle in his lower belly, his balls heavy with their unspent load even as clear drops dribble down his shaft and onto his hand. Eyes squeeze shut again in concentration. A strangled “mmmm” at the pressure. Almost there…

“Almost there,” he groans, fingers scrabbling at her back. “Please can I cum inside, really want-“

“Yes,” she grants him permission in an airy voice. “Touch me?”

Without disrupting the rhythm, his left hand snakes between their damp bodies to the juncture of her thighs, thumb seeking and finding the little prize. Rubbing tiny circles over the nub, he delights in her arched back and trembling pants. It serves to fuel his own growing passion, and he begins thrusting faster. “That’s it…take what you need, take it, take it,” he murmurs, wholly devoted to his tasks. Is he speaking to her or himself?

“Yes,” he hisses, “take it.” His hard-on kicks against his palm and he grunts at the sudden shock of pleasure. He can’t possibly hold out much longer.

“So fuckin’ close,” she shivers, rocking on him as though she’ll never get this chance again. “I’m so close, baby…”

“Cum for me,” he orders (though not unkindly), thumb still massaging her tender clit. “Wanna hear you, sweet girl.”

He’s properly fucking his fist now, the very thing he swore he wouldn’t do at the start of all this, but quite frankly he doesn’t care. It feels incredible, the closer he edges to the precipice.

She falls apart with a scream, clenching around him, her hands yanking on his hair or lightly pressing his throat. By contrast, he almost sobs when he finally blessedly lets go: his hips jerk as he fills her with his seed, his brain empty of any thought but the urge to hold her and keep her.

Somehow, he has the presence of mind to cover his mouth with his unoccupied hand as he cums. He knows how loud he can be…and selfishly, he wants no one else to hear him moan her name. If he can’t have her tonight, he wants that sound.

Afterward (how long has it been? A few seconds? An hour? It’s hard to tell when your bliss is so great), they collapse on the bed. Their high dissipates gradually: breathing evens, hearts slow. Neither makes a move to clean up or dress just yet. Simply to lie together, exchanging kisses and tracing patterns on flushed skin, is more than enough.

There are a million things he could say, a litany of poetics he could charm her with…but all that emerges is “I love you.”

“You do?” she grins, brushing hair back from his forehead.

“‘Course I do. If I could have anyone in the galaxy, I’d choose you every time.”

Hooking a leg over his hip, she snuggles against his his chest. “The feeling’s mutual, starlight.”

He hopes it always is.

“Oh, shit….” He’d had a suspicion his orgasm would be intense, but…when was the last time he’d cum this much? Thick, pearly ropes of the stuff splattered across his stomach and chest, some oozing onto his hand (still clutching his softening cock like his life depends on it). With a groan of effort, he fishes in the drawer of his bedside table until he finds a spare rag and wipes himself down. It takes a few passes, but eventually he’s clean enough to put off bathing until morning.

Rolling onto his back, he stares at the ceiling, an acute wave of loneliness pulsing through him. In the midst of his fantasy he could forget it, but now the bed feels rather empty and cold. To have her there would be his only wish…but for all the Force can accomplish, it can’t teleport people just by thinking of them.

So he drifts to sleep on his own for another night. But before he does, he whispers her name like a prayer to the shadows…and then:

“Love you.”

[85-rend]

Very crowded shelter!! Little mass attack of many slugcats!! The list of everyone is below the cut!

Razz - @raintailed

Blackberry - @girlkisserr

Slugcat - Cheba_aaa (artfight)

The Rapture - @puppet-cat

The Pitcher - @controlaltyeet

The Galaxy - @reveks

The Botanist - @thesnivy123

Patches - OortCloud (artfight)

The Aviator - EloMac (artfight)

Jetcat - Hammy4463 (artfight)

[novaonhere]

Wait, What?

Relationship: Cal Kestis x f!reader

Summary: You’ve been traveling the galaxy with Merrin, taking a stop on Jedha to help Cere. She asks you to go pick up Cal and the Mantis and lead them to their location. Excited seeing each other again, old feelings are brought to light.

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: Fluffy, mild swearing from the author

A/N: Cuties

Prompt: "I ACCIDENTALLY TOLD YOU I LOVED YOU AND NOW WE'RE FINALLY TALKING ABOUT IT.”

(gif not mine)

—————————————————————���——

You take a step out of the shower. Today drained you. Cere tasked you and Merrin with pushing stormtroopers away from the front entrance of the base, but without killing anyone to lessen suspicion. Merrin used some cool space witch magic that you just had to gawk at from time to time. From teleporting troopers, to creating small, yet blinding sandstorms to push the men back. You’re job was to protect her and provide guidance. A few times you brought up the suggestion of moving rocks, making false pathways that loop them back, etc. Only twice did you have to strike down anyone, but it was nothing you couldn’t handle.

The steam from the shower had fogged up the mirror. You stare at the blurry reflection. Even though you couldn’t see your face clearly, you did notice the prominent dark circles under your eyes. Even after the steaming hot shower, your muscles still didn’t relax. Groaning, you rub your shoulder, turning to grab your freshly cleaned clothes. Standard Jedi uniform. Thank goodness for the breathability. Instead of a regular over-tunic, you placed a familiar poncho over it. Taking a deep breath into the cloth, you sigh, knowing the smell it originally held was long gone.

As you finish getting ready, a loud rapture erupts on the door.

“(Y/N), Cere needs you now.” Merrin calls through the door. You open it immediately, face to face with your friend.

“Do you know what about?” You ask, slipping on your last boot. Merrin nods, taking off at a slight jog down the hall. You follow, grabbing your light saber close to your side.

You both enter the archives, meeting Cere, who’s prime focus was one of the tablets in front of her.

“Ah, (Y/N), I must ask you of something.” Cere smiles, turning to face you two.

“Of course, what is it?” You ask, letting go of your light saber. Something about her smile seemed off, like she knew this was going to be… fun?

“I need you to collect someone from a rendezvous point. Leave at once.” Cere states, handing you a chip with coordinates. You study it from her hand before hesitantly taking it. “We have some friends coming for a visit.” You and Merrin scowl, raising your eyebrows. Merrin’s scowl is a bit harsher, not the most comfortable having to share already a small space with someone else.

“Merrin, please prepare 2-3 guest ro-“

“Cere,” You intervene, holding up your hand for her attention. “Who am I picking up?”

“Just go, young Jedi. You’ll know.” Cere shoos you away. She takes Merrin’s shoulder and leads them back down the hallway. Annoyed, you head towards the hanger to grab a speeder. From the coordinates she gave you, it was quite the journey.

Arriving at the hanger, you spot your ride. Do you remember the name? Absolutely not. This wasn’t normally your jam, big machines and what not. You enjoyed using your feet to travel, not much a speeder without a proper seatbelt nor safety precautions. You throw yourself up and head off into the desert.

—-

You don’t mind waiting, it soothes you to be alone in your thoughts. Finding a nice rock to lean against, you stare far out into the desert, watching troopers march along. Do they even know what they are fighting for? Who they’re hurting? What their future holds if they do or do not succeed? Sighing, you place your head in your hands, with your elbows rested on top of your knees. It’s be awfully hot without the wind. Taking a deep breath, you notice the wind pick up, unnaturally. You jump to your feet, peering around the rock to see a ship…

Your eyes snap open. Is that…

Stepping out of the ship is someone you most definitely recognize. The figure turns around to shout something back and a small droid appears. It runs quickly, climbing up the figure’s back. The figure steps onto the sand as the stairs fold back into the ship. It quickly takes off, most likely for a safer spot to land and hide for awhile.

You haven’t seen that face for many months. A face you would see daily. After meeting Merrin and bonding, you decided it would be safer for the two Jedi’s to split and one to escort Merrin around and teach her the ways around the Galaxy. You couldn’t be happier to assist Merrin, you grew closer; however, you couldn’t help but miss the red head daily.

The man turns towards the rock, looking at something in his hand. Most likely the coordinates, which lead to the rock you are currently hiding behind. Feeling the corners of your lips head up your face, you step out from the rock, the light now shining onto you. Geez it was hot.

He looks up, and drops whatever was in his hand. Time of course did not stop, with the sand moving and the wind blowing your hair, but damn did it feel like it. You stared at each other; one smiling like a lunatic and the other dumbfounded.

“We’ll look who it is on Jedah.” You call out, hands on your hips. He closes his mouth, shaking his head into a grin. “Let’s get a move on before the storm hits.”

“(Y/N)!” He calls out, the grin widening more and more with each step he took towards you. You match his energy, extending your arms out for a long deserved embrace. He wraps his arms around your waist, trying to not pick you up off your feet. He smushes his face into the crook of your neck, taking it all in. You giggle, your arms around his neck and head on his shoulder.

“It’s been too long, Cal.” You breath out, backing out of the hug. He laughs as BD-1 chirps for attention. “Oh I saw you too, buddy, don’t worry.” You pat the droid on his head, which beeps happily.

“Like you said, let’s get a move on.” Cal smiles, extending his bent elbow to you. Chuckling, you slide your arm through, holding onto his bicep. Together, you walk alongside the rocks, down the hill to where you parked your speeder.

“How is everyone?” You ask, trying to find his gaze. His once bright eyes suddenly gloss over, a small and quick frown coating his expression. Your smile fades as well.

“Let’s save the catching up to when we’re at base, is that okay?” He asks, patting your hand on his arm with his other hand. His eyes find yours, his filled with sorrow and weariness. You nod, looking forward.

Just as you were about to turn the corner to where you parked, you both had the sensation to stop. You could feel multiple presences beyond, not friendly presences. Looking at each other, Cal brings a finger to his lips, letting your arm go. You nod, brining your hand to your light saber in case something were to go wrong. Cal peeks around the corner. Multiple storm troopers had surrounded your speeder, taking it apart and looking at the pieces. You come up behind Cal, unsheathing your saber. He does the same, sprinting into action.

You both quickly beat the shit out of them. Cal keeps his saber out, keeping a look out as you tend to the speeder.

“Damn, they took a beating to this.” You sigh, exasperated.

“They probably wanted to make sure to trap whoever was here, you did hide it pretty well. Must have been coincidence that they found it.” Cal reassures you. Nodding, you look to the sky where you hade came from. It was filled with brown darkness. The storm was starting to catch up.

“Crap,” you breathe out. There was no way you’ll make it back to base walking. Looking around, you see a pack of spamel walking away from the storm, fleeing as well. “Come on,” You motion to Cal, jogging towards the pack. He follows closely, also eyeing up the storm.

Upon reaching the spamel, you notice one that has a few spots on its back. Smiling, you recognize this to be the spamel you saved from a few troopers just a week ago. The spamel recognizes you immediately, bending down as if it knows you need to hitch a ride. You turn to Cal, motioning for him to hop on.

He throws his leg over, bracing himself on the back of the spamel’s neck. You hop on as well. Without having time to adjust nor brace, the spamel takes off, causing you to lunge into Cal’s back, throwing your arms around his waist. You hands hold onto his toned stomach, feeling the indentations of scars he has endured. He turns around, smiling at you.

“Alright?” He asks, a small chuckle escaping his lips. The hot desert heat trickles up your neck and onto your cheeks.

“Yeah, I’m alright.” You respond, tightening your grip as the spamel picks up speed.

—-

Periodically, you’ll glance behind you, noticing the storm creeping up onto the herd.

“Cal,” You tap his shoulder. “We’re not going to make it.” He cusses to himself, looking around.

At that moment, the wind picks up, sand flying up the spamel’s legs. The herd whines in fear. Suddenly, Cal lunges forward, pointing a bit to the right.

“There!” He calls out, the wind starting to drown out some sound. The spamel seemed to understand Cal’s gesture and noticed the cave opening, big enough to fit even the tallest spamel. The heard gallops to the entrance. You tighten your grasp onto the man, hiding your face in the poncho to protect your eyes and nose from the sand being kicked up. Cal does the same with his own jacket. A few spamel’s have already made it in, and it seemed like you were the last ones. You check behind to make sure you are in fact that last set as your enter the shelter.

“Cal, help me with the rock.” You call out, jumping off the spamel. He falls off with you, following you towards the entrance. Sand and wind flow into the space, hitting and scaring the spamel. You look to see a large rock to your left. Together, you roll the stone in front of the entrance as a make-shift door. You both sigh, as Cal pats you on the back.

“Good thinking,” He smiles as BD chirps in. “Let’s see if we can get a fire going.” He hurries off as you go around to the resting spamel, checking to see if anyone had gotten hurt.

—-

You sit just as you were before earlier, in your own thoughts. The fire flickers and dances beautifully, creating a warm ambiance to the space. The spamels are fast asleep on one side of the cavern, while you and Cal stare at the fire. He sits with a leg extended out and the other folded in, where he rests his hands.

“So, what happened to the crew?” You finally pipe up. You turn to see his face, which basically glows in the firelight. His freckles decorate his features, something you were always jealous of. His eyes remind fixated on the fire.

“Greez is alright…” He trails off, not wanting to discuss anymore on the subject. You both have lost too much in this war, friends, family, innocents. You scoot closer to the man, wanting to be a positive presence to him. He looks out his peripheral to your figure nudging closer. This makes him smile, a content, warm, inviting smile. You take this as a sign to reach your hand out, asking to be held. He agrees, interlocking his fingers with yours. His hands were strong, durable, beat up, yet soft and warm. You take your hands into your lap, using your other hand to trace over each freckles. You used to do this many times on the Mantis over the years to calm him down. Your eyes stay glued to your connect the dots session, while his scan you. It’s like he’s trying to memorize you, understand you and remember you.

“I missed you too much.” He breathes out. You look up into his eyes, which are melting at the eye contact. You smile, extending your hand to his face. He practically dissolves into your touch as you rest your hand on his cheek.

“I missed you as well.” You respond, a small smile leaving your lips.

“I love when you do that,” He absentmindedly blurts, causing you to giggle. He neck, cheeks, and ears flare up immediately, realizing what he had uttered. “I mean, of course I like you touching me, not like that don’t give me that look, I love our closeness, I love you…” He continues to ramble, but your focus ceased once you heard those three words. You hand slowly falls from his blubbering face, catching his attention.

“Wait,” You whisper, making him shut his mouth. “What?” You cock your head, staring up at him.

Silence. The only noise that could be heard was from the wind outside, the snores of the spamels, the crackling of the fire.

“Cal…” You whisper, your hands retreating to your lap. His upper body begins to redden, realizing what has made you take a moment.

“Did you-“

“Okay yes, I may have accidentally told you I loved you, and I’ve felt like this for awhile but you know the Jedi code but I guess now we’re finally talking about it and what that could mean-“

You chuckle quietly, watching the red head loose his cool. This was a side you’ve never seen before, and honestly, he was quite cute. You rest a hand in his thigh, again, shutting him up.

“Let’s save the catching up to when we’re at base, is that okay?” You repeat his words to you earlier to him. With that you lean your body in closer to him. Regaining his composure, he senses your motives and quickly leans into you as well. You lips meet. At first, very much head on, wanting to be as close together as possible. Just a simple, yet long lingering kiss. You pull away, but he is not satisfied. He places on hand on your thighs, the other around your shoulder to the back of your head, bringing you back in for a longer, deeper kiss.

You both stay there, kissing you feelings away as the fire flickers down. You both don’t notice, nor really care. Your attention is on each other.

You finally pull away for a long, needed breath. He does the same. You both smile, giggling just a tad.

“I didn’t know you felt that way,” You start, sitting up straighter to look at him better. He clears his throat, fixing his collar.

“Well, you know the Jedi code.” He starts, causing you to roll your eyes.

“Cal, you both know the Jedi code is older than time itself and things change.” You giggle. “People change.”

“Well, if that’s the case,” He smiles, bringing his lips to yours once more.

You wait out the storm, falling asleep in each others embrace.

[queenlua]

i know this is simultaneously (1) preaching to the choir and (2) the most annoying-condescending-older-tumblr-user-coded complaint

but it really is jarring to me seeing very weird, coddling ideas of what kind of media/book consumption is "appropriate" coming out in very-not-tumblr kinds of spaces

ex: i was listening to a podcast by a seattle-lefty-spiritual-woo type of guy the other day & he went on for a bit about what he deemed "subtle spiritual abuse," and apparently the abuse in this case was "he read a pamphlet in sixth grade by some kooky christian culty guy who claimed the rapture was going to occur in six months"

& this dude had like panic attacks and freaked out about the Coming End Of The World or whatever & he's like "there's NO WAY anyone should've been giving me that pamphlet it was in NO WAY developmentally appropriate"

and like, sure, it sucks that that pamphlet freaked him out that much! but also: it's a pamphlet. it cannot hurt you. like, what, are we gonna say it's not "developmentally appropriate" for sixth graders (sixth! graders!! that's a pretty decently old age!!!) to learn about black holes next. like, i freaked out when i learned about those, at a much younger age, since one COULD technically spring up and devour our galaxy whenever. but it would've been fucking dumb to hide all the fuckin "science for kids" magazines from me like come the hell on

and this guy's dayjob is "therapist" so lmao another giant black mark for that fuckin field. sigh. there's a lot of mindsets that are foreign to me that i nonetheless can apply a lot of charity toward & try to reason about but this one is tough for me

[nicotinemaiden]

To become another's poison;

Pairing: Marazhai Aezyrraesh x F!Rogue Trader (Lavhinia)

Rating: E (Smut)

Tags: Jealousy, Dagger Play, Blood and Torture, Vaginal Fingering, PiV, Anal

Word count: 3,887

You can also read on AO3.

Summary:

Marazhai Aezyrraesh doesn't like when others touch his things. He doesn't even like when others look at his things. The problem, however, comes when he hadn't yet made clear to the Rogue Trader that she was his. That he knew, despite her confident attitude, that she was desperate for him to claim her. After a mission where the male mon-keigh she insisted on keeping around kept looking at her with longing, the Druhkari decided it was time to make her wishes true, to strip her of anything but him.

“Rogue Trader.”

The inhuman's cold, husky voice replaced the silence the automatic door into Lavhinia’s chambers had left upon closure, just before her pale eyes found the angry, hungry ones before her.

“Marazhai. I would ask what are you doing here, invading my privacy, but I doubt it would get me any answers.”

The Druhkari, having tried to quell his thirst with the unwilling help of the prey on the lower decks and finding them all wanting and unsatisfying for his needs, was mostly covered in blood, his weapons sheathed for the moment.

He looked at her in search of answers, an unwavering and challenging smile on his expression. He had seen things, both on the battlefield against her and afterwards, once they had… joined forces. 

From the beginning, from the first time he saw her, he could smell it. Feel it burning in her gaze. The stolen glances they exchanged when no one else was looking filled him with the want to test her, to learn the limits of her pain and the reach of her pleasure.

She was curious. Willing. Obedient. She could command a whole section of the galaxy with one word but she begged him to show her his ways with one gaze. And it had been a long time since he last had a pet of his own, even longer since one who showed so much promise.

How he wanted to see her on her knees for him. To see her bleeding and broken, her screams providing the music to this boringly quiet place. Her usually calm voice moaning his name.

How he wanted to claim her.

To submit her to such a wondrous and exquisite torture that she would beg for more the moment is over.

He almost couldn't stop himself from starting that instant, the slicky texture of his prey staining his skin, the delicious smell of it clouding his senses in a blanket of rapture —

Marazhai had no reason to stay his hand when it clawed her neck and brought her closer to him, his shadow darkening the blue of the gaze that challenged him.

“Usually when someone looks at me like that I either take their heads as a prize or claim their bodies for my personal fun.”

The real reason he had traveled the entirety of the ship from the lower decks to her chambers was simple and extremely complicated at the same time. Simple because it could be explained by just one word: lust. He didn’t need further explanation and no one would ask it from him.

Yet he hadn’t expected to feel such kind of attraction towards a mon-keigh's suffering… nor towards her groans and screams and the odor of her enticement. It was distracting, even in battle.

“Is that a threat, xenos, or a promise?”

Interest flickered across her eyes. An honest question. 

With his free hand he unsheathed the dagger from its place at his hip and slashed the side of her face superficially, enough to draw blood without leaving a scar, even with a weak body like hers. Her pained hiss was sweet and dragged long, an intake of air following it, her tongue licking the blood that reached her lips. He looked, mesmerized, and mimicked her by running his own tongue through her wound and following the trail of blood right onto her lips.

The moment his mouth was upon hers, his mind overwhelmed by the rush not only of her reaction but of his previous massacre which she had allowed without a reason more than to cater to his wishes, he lost the rest of his carefully learnt control.

Lavhinia clawed at his armor as if to ask him to get closer, the tip of her fingers missing their grab at first until he conceded, pushing her against her desk unceremoniously, ignoring every unlucky object in their path.

She landed hard against the metal of the table, catching herself with her hands upon it, looking at him breathless and disheveled. Pretty, but not nearly enough.

The Druhkari launched himself after her, standing between her legs, his dagger taunting to break the cloth above her neck. His free hand gripped her thigh to the table, the metal of his glove piercing her trousers.

“Will you be my pet, little mon-k- Lavhinia? Will you allow yourself to learn what your kind refuses and considers sinful? Will you allow me to show you the different flavours of pleasure only I can offer?”

The blade started slicing her shirt, deeper than she had expected, slicing her flesh just as easily. Breathing heavily and containing a surprised cry of pain she looked at the deep green pools of darkness in front of her and found desperate desire, an untamed craving of which she had seen signs before, even while they were enemies. And she just wanted to surrender to it, because she knew hers was looking back just the same.

Her chest exposed, her shirt torn from the side and easily removed afterward, the bright red of her blood making a fine decoration on her pale skin, she moved her mouth to pronounce her choice, her lips already pursuing the opposite ones to continue the game.

“Lord Captain. Esteemed member of the Inquisition and beloved affiliate of your retinue, Heinrix Van Calox, is currently asking to speak with you.”

She was distracted by the communication transmitted directly into her walls, looking up to the direction of the cold, almost robotic voice, and Marazhai took the opportunity to bite down her neck hard, making her cry and shudder. He left the dagger on the table and moved his metal covered fingers to her nipple, pinching it, pulling it. The Rogue Trader looked away, almost ashamed, her attitude dubious.

“Lord Captain? Should I send him your way?”

They looked at each other, the image of her grinding his middle as best she could without getting closer enough, bleeding for him, burned into his brain.

He knew the reason behind her doubts, he had seen the interactions between her and the male mon-keigh that always followed her around. He had seen others of their kind struck with the same illness as the male seemed to have fallen with, a useless, meaningless concept they called ‘love’. Or, if he was mistaken, it was surely something similar.

It made the mon-keigh feel entitled to things that weren't his. It made him feel… important, when he was little more than a fly, annoying and hardheaded, his head filled with ideas that shouldn't come to be. That wouldn't.

Because she will be his.

She will be his little pet, his good, submissive girl.

He'd even mark her, if she was good enough, if she endured his games.

And he wouldn't allow anyone else to touch what was his.

“Well? Aren't you going to answer? My patience is running low.”

The tip of his fingers invaded her inner thigh, tearing the cloth covering it easier than they would paper, and teased at the side of her cunt, not fully touching it. After a moment of shortcoming breath, she found her voice.

“Excuse me, Vox Master Vigdis, I'm extremely busy. Please tell Mr. Van C-”

The connection was interrupted, leaving a strange static for a couple of seconds before a new voice invaded the channel. He was growing tired of these pointless interruptions.

“Lavhinia, pardon my bluntness but I need to see you as soon as possible. Would you mind sparing a moment of your time… or, if you are so inclined, perhaps a bit longer?”

The implication was clear as day for anyone listening to the communication, which Lavhinia assumed was only the three of them thanks to the care her subordinates took with the privacy of their conversations. Still, three was still one too many and the Druhkari was gripping her tighter by the second, the hand that had been playing with her breasts now still, his nails digging her flesh.

His expression was unreadable, his mind focused on the punishment he would inflict upon her for making him wait, his hand moving to get back his dagger and use it on her belt. Her trousers, unmade by the tear of the metal nails on his gloves, gave up easily. He would lose his time no longer — he was drunk on the sensations and smell of her pain, just like he had been while he tortured her back in Commorragh, fighting with himself and his needs as his own torture in response.

It had been so sweet.

It was sweeter now that he knew how she tasted.

“I'm sorry Heinrix, I’ll call for you later.”

He gripped her waist and moved his glove right to her cunt, placing special care in how to circle her clit precisely, the tip of the metal grinding against the soft, wet flesh of her inner lips. The connection broke, making a series of controlled noises, just before she moaned for him, loud and unexpected.

The Rogue Trader skillfully found the bindings of his upper armor and undid them, pulling from the thing as if willing it to come off on its own since she had not the concentration required for it. With the smirk of a winner — of someone that hadn't doubted he would come on top, of someone capable of laying claim on something with a gaze — he moved his hand to her chin and made her look at him.

“You haven't answered my question.”

Startled by the sudden memory and proximity she shuddered, nodding without saying a word, waiting for him to crash his mouth with hers just like he had done before. He didn’t move, his expression unchanged, waiting.

Waiting for her to say it out loud.

“I'd be anything you want me to be.”

Grabbing her neck he positioned his covered fingers at the entrance of her pussy, her leg using the table as support while the other rested, her hole opened for him.

“You're going to be such a good girl.”

She moaned against his tongue after he started kissing her, three of his fingers sliding inside of her without effort, scrathing her insides in the most wonderful torture she could ever had imagined. His fingers moved with precision, applying pressure in her best spot, making her body grind against them fervently, the pain another layer to her pleasure.

He moved down to bite and lick her nipples, his unused hand helping him by playing with the one his mouth left free, and she felt herself pushed into oblivion.

But right before she could reach it he stopped, removing his fingers from inside her and bringing them to his mouth, licking the metal. She looked with interest and desperation, the edge of her climax interrupted, biting her lower lip with want.

Marazhai moved his fingers to her mouth and waited for her to comply without him having to voice it. After a brief look she opened her mouth, willing, and he put his fingers inside, making her lick them, pushing them so deep she gagged multiple times. He couldn’t wait to see her gag on his cock.

He stopped, wiping the remains of the fluid on her naked chest, and removed his upper armor with ease, the binds already unlocked. Following that, the glint of attraction shining bright in the Rogue Trader’s eyes, he removed his gloves. They were fun, the taste of her tainted with blood from the scratches they created such a delicious game. But he wanted to feel her, to sense the changes in her body as he did with her as he pleased. The contractions and spasms he provoked.

After a moment he removed his boots and trousers, unnecessary things for what he had in mind, and signaled her to move to him, her face admiring his build, his crevices, his multiple scars. She left no corner overlooked, no shadow uninspected, unbothered by the state of her clothes, by the wounds of her body. She approached him once she had had her fill scrutinizing him, his patience only enduring because he wanted to satisfy her curiosity, since she was so willing to follow his instructions.

The Rogue Trader grabbed his cock firmly, no more stranger to the gesture than she could be to holding a weapon in her hand, and traveled its full length excruciatingly slowly, never losing sight of the Druhkari's eyes. He clawed her hair and pushed her down, her knees readily bending to his will, her face looking up shadowed by his presence.She licked her lips in anticipation, positioned her hand better and brought her mouth to his lower head carefully.

He didn’t like to have any kind of care. He pushed her head to him until he could feel in the edge of his cock the start of her throat and pulled her back, repeating the movements and delighting himself with each of her gags. He did it quicker and quicker, ignoring the way her nails dug the skin of his thighs, focusing on the build up of his bliss. Her teeth scratched every now and then and he moaned a guttural sound each time while her tears overflowed and mixed down her lips with her saliva.

Not done with her for the night he pushed her away, making her land hard on the floor, her hair sweaty and tousled, her breath deeply labored. In a way that had never resonated with him before, he could see the beauty in her, in her expression, in the dirtiness remaining now in her, decorating her body with red and glistening. Why would he ever allow anyone else to admire it? Not without him guiding each step, deciding over her pleasure. Only he was allowed to show her everything she had been missing — he would make her addicted to him, unable to find pleasure if it wasn't him giving it.

He would be her poison.

“Now, my new and lovely pet, get yourself up to your desk.”

Her body trembling, she stood up and moved without a complaint, her doubts, if she still had any, completely silent. He followed, precise and agile, his left hand grabbing her wrist and pinning it to the surface under it, forcing her down, his own leg invading the table to chase her.

His dagger glistened at her side, calling to him, and he picked it up with his free hand. Soon the cold blade pressed against Lavhinia’s chin and forced it upwards, his mouth claiming hers with his taste still intact. Another day he would have the time and patience to taste himself from her mouth fully, the white warm liquid an appetizer for the rest of their meal, but he was too… rushing tonight, impatient, as if something could take her away from him and the ravishing bond they had created could break, forbidding him from ever trying again. Knowing their history of finding problems everywhere and beyond, she could be called out at any moment. He couldn’t allow that.

He had already decided he wanted her.

His blade cut near her shoulder first, making her flinch out of reach. Deeper still, it slashed a bit lower the next time, his tongue sequestering hers with a smirk on his lips. Her pain was consuming, his length spasming when its smell reached him, anxious.

And lower still down her arm he kept placing cuts without care of how deep they were, unimportant if they served their purpose, her cries and moans safe within the walls of his throat.

Almost desperate to feel her he nailed his dagger beside her arm, the blade sharp edge facing her skin so that it would keep doing its work even without his handling. Once done, the Druhkari grabbed his erection strongly, positioning himself at the center of her cunt. He bit down her lip hard, pulling it, a playful and curious smile on his face, a deep, dark, uncontrollable desire in his eyes. 

And he slid inside, all the way to his end, without a second to accommodate her to him, groaning next to her ear. She tightened further, closing her legs around him, her hands, both finally free, clawing at his back. She sliced her arm with his blade at the movement and flinched, but instead of moving away she simply dug her nails harder into his back. Her reaction was priceless, accepting the wounds, remaining in place, looking at him with confidence.

He would break that confidence step by step, until she was little more than a dirty, bloody mess.

And it started that instant, when he lowered himself from the desk bringing her to the edge with him and pushed her right leg further open, using it and his other hand clawing the table as support for his thrusts. He shoved his cock fully into her and exited her hole just as fully, both of them moaning at the feeling. It hurted her and it only made it more enticing.

He continued, raising his rhythm, biting his lip and admiring her and her cries. Sometimes she would try to close her legs, others she would spread them further. Every now and again his blade sliced near her stomach or her fingers would tangle in it searching for support only to be betrayed by the coldness of it. It was beautiful. He had missed sex like this. He couldn’t believe how long he had gone without it.

Even less could he believe the one who would capture his attention would be a lowly mon-keigh in place of his own kin. Yet the prospect of studying her was too intriguing to pass up.

“Tell me, Rogue Trader, how does it feel to be fucked by the one who tortured you? Tortured your companions? Killed your people?”

She froze for a moment but he continued, enjoying the look in her eyes, the defeat in them, the self-deprecation. He pushed harder, avoiding to leave her now, reaching a point inside her body that made her scream in pleasure. In shame. If he could bottle up a smell to remember when he pleased he would choose the one she emitted now, fighting with herself between her willingness to enjoy everything he offered and the reminder of his deeds, of his sins. He didn't need to wait for her to reveal the winner.

He gripped her hair to make her look at him, her face contorted between agony and ecstasy.

“Your master has given you a question. You will give him an answer.”

She coughed and grinded against him, her arms surrounding his neck, her climax building with her body enveloping his cock.

“It feels good. More than it has any right to.”

“Oh and it will feel even better. For me, it tastes like absolute victory.”

One last push, her head falling back, and she screamed his name between moans while she came undone, the continuous tightening and loosening of her cunt sending waves to his body, almost taking him with her.

But he had other plans, he needed to test her further still — it wouldn’t do if she turned out to be an incomplete pet. A useless pet.

Marazhai turned the human around, gaining a perfect view of her ass, her breasts squishing against the table. He pushed her head down to it too while using her cum to lubricate her back hole with his cock, sliding it up and down and popping its head into her ass, trying to enter. She groaned and moved, not fully resisting but not making things easier for him either.

He lowered his mouth near her ear and whispered his next words.

“I will fuck each of your holes and you will enjoy it, Lavhinia. You are fully mine. You need to understand it.”

She moved further away, her eyes slightly panicked, and only then did he realize the reason why it was being more difficult to penetrate her there. He smirked maliciously, the opportunity too perfect, a gift for him. It was extremely rare for a Druhkari to be a stranger to anal sex, it was in their nature to use everything given to them that could make the reaches of their pleasure greater. He supposed it was not so for mon-keighs. He should have known not to expect better from such lowly creatures.

“Please, Marazhai, I-”

Her voice broke when the head of his cock finally entered her ass, her eyes rolling backwards, her muttering incoherent and breathless.

“That’s not how you’re supposed to address me.”

Slower than he would have liked, the waves of pleasure shaking his body, he thrusted further inside, enacting cries of rapture and torment, the perfect combination. Once he reached as deep as he could he lowered his hand to her cunt and put three of his fingers inside, grabbing her with them and putting pressure in her most erotic spot, fucking her with his fingers more intensely and agile than if it was his dick. After the shock had passed and she was moaning uncontrollably, he started fucking her ass with firm shoves and pullouts.

“Please Master, I can’t resist…”

It sounded exactly as it should, defeated and accepting, completely submissive. He would make her say it a thousand times. Someday, he will even make her do so in front of her beloved crew, just to see her squirm, embarrassed and wet for him.

“That’s better. Go on, come for me my pet. You have earned it.”

After a couple more thrust and a well-timed press on her cunt she reached her climax a second time, panting and drained. It was fun, watching her reach her ecstasy for him, changing the labored breaths of the battlefield for the ones at the bedroom, claiming something from her no one could ever experiment in the same way. She made him feel possessive, even more so than his usual things, even more than he had been with his position as Dracon. Yet he attributed it to the fact that it was common to be attached to the newer toy.

He didn’t stop, not even for a second to allow her to compose herself, and the tension of her overstimulation just served to edge him further.

He was almost there. And it was almost a shame it would come to an end so soon.

Almost, because she would seek him further. And he would claim her again, over and over, showing her more pieces of his world. Drugs, hallucinogens, toys, chains. He hadn’t been fully prepared today for everything he wanted to test on her, he had not even fully trusted she would be so willing for him. But now that he knew, he had so many ideas. Thinking about them while fucking her ass with his cock and his cunt with his fingers drove him to perdition, to an explosive orgasm he had been needing for some time and failing to find a worthy partner to grant it to.

Grabbing his dick to pull it out, watching the mighty Rogue Trader with her clothes in tatters, covered in blood, cuts and bites, with her cum running down her legs and his semen sliding from her ass, he truly felt he had won their final battle.

He was the victor.

And he couldn’t wait to test all sorts of punishments on his new plaything.

[huntressdarkness]

Huntress' Fics

Note: All my fics are explicit and 18+ unless I say otherwise, and they are all private, so you will need an ao3 account to read them. :)

Anakin-centric

Covenant - Heir to the Empire under Emperor Kenobi, Anakin is instrumental in bringing peace to the galaxy. Though the clones have rights and a way out, Rex chooses to stay with Anakin, especially in the wake of his arranged marriage to end the budding rebellion. - (Anakin/Rex)

Her Majesty - Anakin is captured by the Zygerrian queen. - (Anakin/Miraj)

The Art of Seduction - Anakin struggles with his responsibilities to his men, and Hunter offers him a distraction. - (Anakin/Hunter)

Bad Batch-centric

Aloft - Echo rescues Crosshair on a prison transport to Tantiss, and the Batch join him on Rex’s Yavin IV hideout. Having Crosshair back doesn’t automatically erase what happened or mend the rifts that have been torn. - (Hunter/Crosshair)

Alight - Sequel to Aloft - (Hunter/Crosshair)

Deep In Their Bones - Post-E4 in S3 when Crosshair comes back. - (Hunter/Crosshair and Hunter/Crosshair/Wrecker)

Devotion - Hunter struggles with his jealousy over Phee and insecurities over Crosshair. Tech helps him. - (Hunter/Tech)

Fade Into the Dawn - Crosshair and Echo track down Hunter to bring him home. Imperial!Hunter - (Hunter/Crosshair/Echo)

Lead Me Unto Temptation - On their first mission for Cid, Hunter is captured by Zygerrians and sold off to be a sex slave before he and the Batch can escape. He contacts Crosshair for an extraction, even though that means calling the Empire. - (Hunter/Crosshair)

Lead Me Unto Freedom - Sequel to Lead Me Unto Temptation - (Hunter/Crosshair)

Of Feather and Bones - Hunter and Wrecker get captured and taken to Tantiss in a bid to rescue Omega. But with Crosshair as uncooperative as ever, Wrecker injured, and Tech alive, albeit now a brainwashed operative of Hemlock’s, Hunter’s plan of escape is not quite as clear or easy as he’d hoped. - (Hunter/Crosshair, Hunter/Wrecker, Hunter/Tech, and Hunter/Crosshair/Tech/Wrecker)

Poisoned Waters - The Batch rescue Crosshair from Tantiss, but that doesn’t automatically fix everything. A “treasure hunt” with Phee goes badly, exposing Crosshair to an aphrodisiac toxin… and leaving Hunter to “help” him through it. - (Hunter/Crosshair)

Rapture [Series; WIP] - When Crosshair discovers that Tech is behind the mask of CX-2 on Tantiss, he tries to reach out to him to see if something familiar might bring back the brother he knew. And he has to face the consequences of his failure alone. - (Polybatch)

Silhouette - Hunter is captured and taken to Tantiss instead of Omega... where he reunites with Crosshair. - (Hunter/Crosshair)

Stardust [Series; WIP] - Captured on Zygerria, Hunter and Crosshair become prisoners of Queen Miraj Scintel. She will try and break them, and their fellow captives, Anakin Skywalker and Captain Rex, through every possible way, stopping at nothing, even rape. But when Hunter and Crosshair have yearned for each other, it may only bring them together the way they've always wanted - and maybe even win them other lovers on the way. - (Hunter/Crosshair to Hunter/Crosshair/Anakin/Rex)

This Is How We Rise Up [WIP] - A darker version of Hunter from the future shows up on Kamino when the Batch are having their standoff and drags Crosshair along with them when they leave. - (Hunter/Crosshair, Hunter/Echo, Hunter/Hunter, and Hunter/Hunter/Crosshair)

Worlds Apart [WIP] - Though the pregnancy was an accident, Hunter didn’t regret it. How could he? He can’t deny what Crosshair means to him. But the child doesn’t make it, or so Nala Se tells him. Forcibly transitioned from omega to alpha, Hunter has to cope with his new designation as well as grief for the child he never got to know. And then the Empire forms and all his attempts at rebuilding something come crumbling down. - (Hunter/Crosshair to Polybatch)

[vibratingskull]

First time making a request, so if I do something wrong, I’m sorry!

This idea is inspired by another request about Thrawn and his s/o reuniting in ep6 of Ahsoka, which I loved btw. So, s/o (reader) realised she/they were pregnant shortly after Thrawn disappeared and so when they reunite, Thrawn is meeting his child (that he didn’t know existed) for the first time and his s/o is so happy because she/they never thought they’d meet. I really want to see how Thrawn would react to finding out he has a child and that he missed the first 9(ish) years of their life, I feel like he’d be so soft towards his s/o and child but also so enraged (even if he doesn’t show it) that he missed so much of his child’s life. Either fem!reader or gn!reader is okay, whichever works for you!

Anyway, I hope this made sense. Have a great day!

You did good anon, don't worry! ❤️

Thrawnxf!reader but no pronouns used

You place yourself between your daughter and the Great Mothers by instinct. You keep them at bay, holding her tiny hand in yours, she looks at them curious but they look at her like a predator would a prey. Casually, you reveal your blaster attached to your hips. You already got troubles to get Morgan to accept your daughter for the trip, you’re not gonna let some witches take her. 

They avert their gazes, slowly turning away.

Good.

Suddenly you hear a long loud hollow sound resonate in the sky. Your daughter presses herself against your leg, digging her nails in the fabric of your tunic.

“It is okay, Thooken.” you comfort her, caressing her head “It’s your father coming.”

She raises her gaze to you, you can see fear and apprehension but also a hint of hope.

“We’ll see dad today?” she asks with a little voice.

“He is the Grand Admiral, show some respect!” Morgan shouts over the noise.

You give her black look, she’s really getting on your nerves lately. The only reason you’re all here is thanks to you manipulating Ahsoka Tano to retrieve the map and recommending Baylan and Shin for the mission and she got the dirty habits to place herself as the leader of the expedition. One day you’ll end it all up with a bullet at the back of her skull.

“Cut her some slack, she can call him dad and however she pleases” you bite back “Contrary to you.”

She gives you a dirty look and you smirk at her in response. The exact same word resonates in both of your mind

Bitch.

You feel air movement in your back and spin to discover the Chimaera in all her glory. Your smile broaden. Thooker opens her eyes round like saucers.

“What’s that?” she mumbles.

“This is an ISD, sweety.” you take her in your arms, she grew a lot lately, soon you won’t be able to carry her anymore “This is the ship of your father.”

“Dad commands a ship this big?!” she goes into raptures.

“He used to command a whole fleet of ISDs.” you explain, kissing her cheek.

Her expression darkens.

“What if he doesn’t want to meet me?” she asks full of doubt “what if he doesn’t want me.”

“Oh, my sweet. Of course he wants to meet you. I am sure it is most dear wish.” You lie to her.

Unfortunately you didn’t have time to announce Thrawn the great news of your pregnancy back then, he never knew that was about to become a father. You wish you had the time, it would have been another reason for him to hold on for ten years, as of now you don’t even know in which shape you’ll meet him. Maybe he has been mutilated or became disabled, knowing he had a child somewhere in the galaxy would have given him comfort during dark times…

The Chimaera positions herself over the stone structure and slowly goes down, revealing to you an army of Stormtroopers in ranks, their armors seem patched up and hold on with red ribbons. You bite your cheek, life is not easy around here.

Suddenly they all start chanting the name of your lost husband.

That’s new…

Thrawn used to hate those displays of blind obedience. They had to adapt, it seems like.

A figure starts to descend the ally of stormtroopers, taking it’s time. 

You recognize him instantly.

Your husband.

Your loved one.

Thrawn.

Your heart sing and flutters at his sight.

You designate him to Thooken with a smile but she recoils over herself in your arms.

Morgan Elsebeth walks to place herself in the front and you can’t help but shake your head at her behavior. Baylan and Shin remain in the back, more respectful and humble.

“What was first just a dream has become a frightening reality for those who may oppose us.” he says with a smirk. “Great Mothers, I salute you.”

You smile blissfully.

Finally.

You are reunited!

What a blessing.

“Soon we should all escape this exile thanks to the help of Morgan Elsbeth.” 

Morgan bows with a smile.

“I am ever your servant, Grand Admiral.” she says with a fawning voice.

You remain in the back, managing your effect.

“They brought a prisoner.” one of the Mothers speaks.

“You never spoke of this.” he seems puzzled but not necessarily surprised.

They continue talking about Sabine Wren, Baylan reveals it’s thanks to him she’s there. Thrawn's attention is fully focused on them, giving you time to investigate Thooken’s behavior peacefully.

“What’s wrong, sweety?” you murmur.

“I am scared.” she pleas “What if he doesn’t love me?”

“Oh, my love.” you squeeze her tight “What father doesn’t love his daughter to death?”

She looks at you dead in the eyes.

“Tarkin.”

Ouch. Touché.

“He’s not Tarkin, sweety. He will love you like you’ve never been loved before, I promise.”

She circles her arms around your neck, hiding her face from everyone else.

“You are quite right… She will be of great use to us.” Thrawn nods with a light grin to Baylan before turning back to Morgan “What other great news do you bring to me on this day?”

Morgan seems taken aback, what great news? All news are bad lately, except yours.

“I have got one.” You announce clearly, revealing yourself to him.

His pupils widen at your sight, his light grin broadens.

“(Y/n), I was starting to wonder where you could be.” he says, amused and, you think, relief.

You come closer with love in your eyes, holding your daughter firmly.

“Who that might be in your arms?” he asks, tilting his head legitimately curious.

You turn your head to Thooken but she grips you tighter, refusing to budge.

“Little one?” he calls gently, he pushes a strand of hair behind her ears, revealing her blue skin to him.

You see him freeze. It lasted less than a second but you didn’t miss it.

“Thooken.” you encourage her.

Her grip loosen a tad and she deigns turning her head to meet her father. They cross their gaze and he stares at her, his knuckle grazing her cheek, with a shocked and puzzled expression. She immediately hides in the crook of your neck.

“She’s a bit shy.” you explain, caressing her back.

“It is quite okay…” he says lowly, still shocked. “She must be tired by this trip, as are all of you.” He exclaims for everyone to hear, recovering his serious demeanor. “You should use the remainder of the day to recover some energy. Captain Enoch, please escort them to their quarters.”

----------------------------------------------------------

“He doesn't like me!” You sweetheart laments, seated on the bed while you freshen up in the bathroom. You’re surprised the room got one.

“Of course he does. He’s just a little shocked.” you come back into the chamber “He never was really demonstrative, give him some time.”

She keeps her gaze low, she’s really sad. You come hug her on the bed.

“He loves you very much already, his whole world just got shaken up.”

She buries her head in the fabric of your shirt and you remain like that for a minute when you hear knocks on the door.

It’s Enoch.

“The Grand Admiral wants to see you both.”

you walk in the cold stone corridors of the citadel, following the curious trooper without a word. You finally reach a large door where Enoch leaves you.

“Ready?” You ask Thooken.

She just gulps.

You knock and open the door. Thrawn immediately stands up from his desk with an holographic map.

“(Y/n)...” He exclaims like he doesn’t believe it himself.

You throw yourself at him with a satisfied sigh, you hug him tight, revelling in his presence and scent. It’s been so long…

He seizes your face and kisses you languorously. You moan of pleasure against his soft lips, squeezing him.

“Ten years…” he whispers, eyes in yours.

“We are here now, love.” you caress his cheek “We can all go home now.”

He smiles at you before his gaze ends up on Thooken. He takes a step towards her, unsure like she would run away at any movement. She doesn’t move back but doesn’t move towards him either.

He kneels, placing himself at her level. He extends his hand to her, palm open.

“Let me see your face.” he gently asks.

She closes the gap after an hesitation. He holds her face between his two hands, all words seem to escape him.

“What is your name, young lady?”

“Thooken.” she reveals.

“Thooken.” he repeats “And how old are you?”

“9 years old.”

His thumbs caress her cheeks almost mind-absently.

“Maker.” He whispers “I had planned all the possibilities for today, but you managed to surprise me, Thooken.”

“It’s… a good thing?” she asks with a bit of fear in the tone.

“It is a very good thing. A marvelous thing.” He pulls her gently into a hug, manipulating her small body like the most fragile thing in the galaxy.

You smile when you see her hugging him back.

“Dad…” she mumbles with cracks in the voice.

“I am here my dear.” he comforts her, “I am with you now.”

“We are all together.” you say, putting a hand on his shoulder “And we will remain together.”

“Indeed.” he says with a hard tone “I will need to settle the score with Bridger. He robbed me of so much.” he spites.

He parts with Thooken and kisses her cheek before standing up to look at you.

“A chance we got his friend in a cell, she can be of some use to me.”

“I thought you would honor Baylan's engagement?” you frown.

“It was before I realized he deprived me of my child. I can not let that go unpunished.” 

You look into his red eyes to realize that his decision is taken and there is no changing his mind now.

You would almost pity Bidger.

But it is all his fault, after all.

@Bluechiss @thrawnalani @justanothersadperson93 @al-astakbar @thrawnspetgoose

☆Tag list

[milkytheholy1]

There's no reason to be sad

A/N: Have a load of trash, think of it as a sequel of sorts to Starlit Night. It can also stand as its own thing, there's no real connection between the two and its mainly just me rambling. Enjoy!

Tech x GNReader

----------------------------------------------------------

The air was cold against your skin, nothing that sent your body into shivers, but cool enough to chill your heated thoughts. The luscious grass beneath your feet almost tickled, it swayed with such elegance, practically begging you to take a seat. 

And so you did.

Touching the green blades with the tips of your fingers, skimming the blanket of the natural world with the palm of your hand. The night sky towered above you, stars and far-away galaxies twinkling in a synchronised dance. You've spent most of your lifetime in the stars, and yet you never grew tired of looking at them. The sounds of the old, tired ship behind you raptured the tranquil silence that once surrounded your form. 

You could faintly hear his paced breaths as he manoeuvered over towards you, taking in the slope of your back to memory. Unlike before, he sat down the moment he got close enough to you. Plated armour brushing up against the bare skin of your arm, hard plastoid lightly scratching soft flesh. 

"Are we doing this again?" his voice was almost a whisper, you could see his eyes trail over you with a swift glance. You ducked your head between your folded knees, a sigh brushing past your lips, "Doing what?"

He didn't seem happy with your response, you could tell by the dip of his goggles and the crease in his brow, "This," he emphasised with his tone. Finally using a finger to shift the goggles further up the bridge of his nose, "I have counted you seeking peace at least six different times in the last 4 rotation periods. Clearly, you are suffering from some form of issue, what is the problem?"

You hid away from his words, no matter how true they were. You whipped your head back up to face the stars, just staring out into nothingness, "I-" you started, words dry on your tongue. Your eyelids closed and crinkled in frustration, "I...I don't know what's wrong with me, Tech. Sometimes I feel sad, sometimes I feel stressed when I know I have nothing to be stressed about and it's just-" you let out a harrowing breath, "It's just too much."

The bespeckled Clone sat silent beside you, allowing you to finish your brave ramblings. He was torn, does he choose to watch you while your heart bled or does he choose to follow your gaze and peer at the night sky?

You turned to look at him, lips quivering and goosebumps raised along your arms, "When I'm out here, looking at the stars, it helps me forget. I can't be stressed or sad when I'm looking at the stars." you turned back to gaze at the picturesque scenes above you, "Stars can't be sad."

Tech coughed awkwardly into his fist, "Technically speaking, stars cannot feel emotions. They are masses of gas and-" he cut himself short, seeing your broken expression was far more important than the facts and lifespan of a star. Sitting a little straighter, Tech offered you a consoling look, "I may not be the best at these types of situations, I believe as Wrecker once put it I am 'As emotionless as a droid' but I do acknowledge some comfort may help you."

He offered his arms out to you, embracing the thought of you being tucked into his chest. You shifted in your place, dragging your limbs closer to his warmth while you nestled your face against his neck. The crook of your nose rubbed against his adam's apple, while his fingers danced along your shoulder blades.

"I don't think you're as emotionless as a droid," you whispered, sleep clawing at your feet. Tech let out a small chuckle, clutching you closer, "Thank you, my dear."

This wasn't the first time Tech had comforted you, but it had been a long time since the last occurrence. You were sat on a hill similar to this one, the tree branches swung in the gentle breeze, the birds sang and the night sky was still just as beautiful. Back then you weren't sad or stressed, you had Tech by your side and your crew behind you. 

Perhaps because it was the night when Tech had first kissed you, confessed his want for you. Ever since you had been going steady, you had nothing to be sad about; and yet there was this deep, dark feeling inside of you that you just couldn't shake.

Tech's arms brought you back to the present, the hardness of his armour dug into your sides; but you didn't care at this point. You were too absorbed in the sights, the sounds, the smell that was Tech. 

"Is this helping? I read on the holonet that physical comfort can help those who are feeling less than adequate with themselves." 

You slid a dainty hand up towards his cheek, tapping your fingers lovingly against the roughness of his skin. You could feel his head lean into the motion, an unconscious action that sent your skin alight. You could feel a warmth spread from your fingertips, you could hear the sound of his lips pulling away, feel the love he passed through to you from such a small action.

"This is helping," you muttered, eyes blinking shut, "Thank you, Tech." your breathless whisper caught him off guard. Ever so gently he looked down at you, short breaths puffed out of your lips, eyelashes dusting your cheeks, you were better than any stars he had ever seen. He knew he had to pick you up and carry you back to the ship, but that could wait. Tech wanted to sit and enjoy the vast galaxy above him, for once he wanted to see what the world had to offer and not something on his holopad.

But deep down he knew he was being selfish, he just wanted to spend more time with you. In the quietness of the hill you both sat on top of, with the hum of the Marauder in the background and the footfalls of those who inhabited it. Resting his head gently against your own, Tech released his own sigh.

"You are welcome, my love."

[wolven91]

A Friend for Life

Garf’troyus had been having a rough go of it recently. A draconian, hardy people from an arid world; his people were hard to kill. Perfect for piracy within the depths of space. That didn’t do much to lessen the fact that his crew had been scattered thanks to a devastating counterattack to his latest raid and his ship was barely limping back to his concealed base within the Ying Asteroid Belt.

Running a taloned hand over his face before massaging his temples below the wicked horns either side helped to a degree as he decided the best course of action from here. With a snort he decided how to crack this.

Garf’troyus the pirate needed a win.

Big or small didn’t matter, just something to break the stroke of bad luck and the militaristic funk he was currently in. He wasn’t defeated, he just needed to pivot to another avenue of attack on the wider galaxy.

Once he got back to base, he’d drink everything left over from previous raids and start fresh with a little genocide on some backwater planet. He’d skirt The Edge first, picking off any lone freighters or under-prepared sluggat stations he came across before attacking the first inhabited planet. Sluggats were a soft race, get into one of their stations and it was easy pickings. It was just a matter of getting past the defences first.

He leaned back in his chair with a smirk across his snout as his radar ‘pinged!’ with a new contact. Turning his head a rapturous grin broke over his features.

A single ship, a goods freighter most likely. His grin broadened as the scan confirmed no weapons at all, aside from point defence for meteors. Child's play and proof that his rampant bloodshed in the past would be rewarded by the Gods. Depending on the crew he could personally slaughter them all or just make his way to the bridge and vent them if they didn’t join his new raiding band. He needed to replenish his forces after all.

He didn’t bother opening a comms link to offer terms or even a chance to surrender, he needed this.

With a bone jarring slam into the docking port, his ship tore its way in and sealed itself around the ragged edges of his piercing entrance that had been the side of the freighter’s hull. Once he left, the resulting hole would either kill or cripple the ship, their corpses would merely add to his infamy.

It was a scant few seconds later, whilst he still had the element of surprise that he burst into the foreign ship. Right  into an empty corridor with flickering lighting. The ship was in a poor state, less from intentional damage and more from neglect. It explained why they were out toward The Edge to begin with. Only those with no options or money would come all the way out here.

Once he got to the bridge, whilst the door was locked he was Garf’troyus the pirate! No locked door would stop him as he simply grabbed the edges and pulled them apart. They resisted, but helped by the aged unmaintained mechanics it tore open and let him through with a squeal.

A human launched themselves at him and gave a swift downwards slam with a heavy wrench across Garf’troyus’s forehead. Thankfully they had gone for the thickest part of his skull or that may have defeated him then and there. He merely straightened up and looked down disdainfully at the creature. He snorted once.

What followed was a series of brutal blows thrown by both Garf’troyus and the smaller human. Her hair was long and greasy as if she hadn’t been able to wash it in an extended amount of time. She fought like a wild creature that had been cornered and with no further options but to fight to the death.

Garf’troyus was triumphant in the end, but it was not the landslide victory he had come to expect from his past scores of wins. He had lost several teeth and was fairly certain had several cracked ribs. But the Human was slumped against a far wall and breathing heavily. She was mortally wounded, there would be no further danger from her. His claws dripped with her essence.

He began to check the main console for any other life signs and found none aboard. A dark hacking chuckle came from the Human.

“Are you finding humour in your perishing human?” He asked, keeping an eye on her crumpled form. She didn’t rise.

“No.. But it’s over.. Finally..” She wheezed.

“You disliked your life so much? Then you are welcome.” He grunted, wincing from the pain lancing through his side. She had done a worse number on him than any other in living memory.

“Look.. hah.. no-one deserves what’s about to happen without a heads up… What’s your name?”

“I am Garf’troyus the pirate! Rejoice, for you are rewarded with death to be in my presence.”

“Your name is Garth?! Hah! Oh, oh don’t make me laugh.. oh ho ho.. ooh ow…”

He snorted in frustration, humans never knew when to show respect.

“They’re going to be loose already… That explosion or whatever it was will have woke them up…”

He glared at her out of the side of his eye. “..Woke what?”

“They started as toys… Then people felt more deeply for them than any basic toy.”

She pulled a hand away from her side where it was soaked with her disgustingly red blood.

“They became cherished pets. They modified them… Made them better…Your technology…”

A sigh.

“Technology got better and so did they. First it was just their appearance, before long they could move on their own.”

Her eyes got heavy, her words slurred.

“But they were ageless. Their owners passed away and they became beholden to no-one.”

Her voice got quiet.

“… I got most of them… but.. now? ...B...Best of luck Garth…”

She was still.

The lights flickered overhead and the shadows of the room seemed to lengthen.

The huge alien heard something long and slithery outside the only door in or out of the room.

"Kah hungry, aaa aaa aaa!" came something sinister and synthetic.

"Whoa! Big sound, wah!" another, different voice answered, it was in the room.

Garf’Troyus grabbed the Human’s dropped wrench as he saw two blinking eyes illuminated in the pure darkness outside the room.

"Food! Please! Hungry." came from above.

[perdido]

Galaxy's Edge during Rapture...

©2/23/24 Eduardo Mueses, All Rights Reserved

(Click on Image to see it bigger)

[tegarrianlore]

Freia the Eternal

Freia the Eternal, the goddess that defined an era and the world to come.

Ruling for a hundred millennia, Freia was born out of the desperation of mortalkind.

To understand Freia, one has to understand how gods function in this world. Infinite in nature, each god is a manifestation of a concept or set of concepts and ideas. There can be extensive overlap between certain deities - the Archons rule seven elements of nature that also have had other gods throughout history. Certain gods can rise in reach and power, and the strongest among them ascend to a greate classification: a Greater God. There have only been four Greater Gods in the Tegarrian Lore. Irkathame the Scion-keeper, an ancient deity of a now-exctint species of octopus-like beings that ruled most of the galaxy millions of years ago; Adam El Asem the First Man, who created all of mankind and whose mistakes led directly to the birth of Freia; and Freia the Eternal, whose original purpose became buried under an epoch of corruption. The fourth god deserves a whole another post, so I won't mention her.

Freia began life as a minor deity, travelling across the world to help mortals with tasks they could not accomplish by themselves. These tasks were usually the vanquishing of monsters and other threats. She became the Goddess of many things. Goddess of Hope, of War. Of Love and Lust, of Crops and Famine, of Gold and Wealth, of Magic and the Afterlife (just like the irl Freyja), etc. All those concepts she still represents, even after her death.

However, Freia was born in the shadows of a devastating collapse of civilization. When Adam El Asem's million-year-long Empire came to a close, the very foundations of the world were left in shambles. A war among the Gods themselves raged across the universe, the devastation still felt well into the modern day, 400,000 years after the fact.

After the fact, a huge power vacuum was left open for anyone to grab. A certain Demon Ofnir and his Kingdom of Blood almost conquered half of the world; the Queendom of Sarthes Azura and her two patron deities provided a semblance of order after the First Rapture. An object, an Artifact of Creation was left unused. The Ring of Life, spread over multiples Runes that control all things living, dead, in-between and beyond. This was up for grabs, and Freia quickly began wielding it.

However, the Ring of Life was all but a trap, for a higher being - the Powers That Be - had corrupted it eons before.

Freia with her daughter Promethea, the Angel of Death

The influence of the Powers That Be was strong. Freia grew distant.

Twenty sons she had with the last of the Fae gods; Dewuulf, the God of the Wild Hunt. Of these, the first of them became corrupted by It as well and had to be excised from history all-together. After this, a certain madness claimed Freia's mind. Of her original twenty or so sons and daughters, history only remembers seven of them: Promethea, the Angel of Death, was her Executioner. Godranni, the Weaver of Fate, was her oracle into the future. Aasir, the Red Khan, was her brute-force solution to any problems. Maistorm, the King of the Under-realms, was the only one allowed to perform necromancy. Ulaatan Castellan, the Hammer of Justice, was her perfect general. Kaedriel Mallacht, the Nightbringer, was her soon-to-be successor. Indoral Addarach, the Clockwork Disciple, was the brightest mind allowed to exist. Everyone else would be forgotten by History all-together.

Ms. Adalgard Lund, Emergency Director of the Dämmerung Foundation.

Freia's Golden Empire would soon crumble too. Driven to insanity by the whispers of the Powers That Be, she would end up shattering the Ring of Life itself. This brought an unpredecented age upon the entire Tree of Life - to the entire multiverse. An Age of Undeath.

The Goldenborn beckon for a bright future, but that will not be possible. Of thee, only seven will exist.

Faylane, you the Eternal Muse of Mankind, loved and wanted by all mortals, your presence must come to a stop. Ihnaros, the King of Sands, you have helped the Nightlord settle her lands and establish her rule, and for that I am eternally grateful; for she will forget you. Oljme, Prince of the Hunt, you who enjoy slaying beasts and protecting the wildlife, I must vanish thee. You will join your brother of whom you hold no memories, Audwynn, in eternal un-existence. To fight the war within, I must not falter, ye Forsaken Demigods, for all of Reality depends on it.

READING RELATED TO FREIA THE ETERNAL:

DCA-6000 - The Leytree of Freia the Eternal

DCA-001 - Dr. Elrod's Proposal - The War in Heaven

DCA-5031 - The World Serpent

[lovemilkshakemeh]

A/N: im gonna be honest im not sure what this is. its a drabble that doesn't belong to any character in particular. i was just chatting with ai Abby (from tlous 2) and decided why not for her since i was already saying stuff like this to the ai. i suck ass at dialogue so there's pretty much none but i think the point still gets across well enough. i never say its her but in my mind while editing this i decided it was abby so imagine whoever. also why is it so hard to write for men.

DISCLAMER: 18+ THIS IS PURE SMUT MDNI

Tags: shower sex,nipple play (barely any), smut(ofc), angst, you fingering abby, abby eats you out, both abby and reader receive. plot (if you squint), unrequited love, i love you

Summary: You and abby fuck in the shower

wc: 710

moments like this were rare. silence rang throughout the home except for the rhythmic pattern of the water hitting the tile. your bodies danced in a passionate tango, tongues dancing in a battle for dominance. until you were the champion. 

she was putty in your hands. her mouth opened to let small moans escape as your fingers traced small shapes onto her clit. her head tilted back to allow you access to her neck and as if her body was moving in sync with yours in a symphony of pleasure. your mouth automatically attached to her neck littering kisses and bites along the collar. she gushed at your touch. your hands momentarily leaving her only to dive into her slick folds. you let out a low teasing chuckle finding her mews of desperation funny. her hips snapped and bucked wildly. and her hands grasped into the shower walls looking for purchase. she was close. her eyes snapped shut and her mouth opened releasing a silent moan. body convulsing and clenching around your fingers she let go. her vision blurring and seeing what you can only imagine as galaxies.

slowly you removed your fingers, her eyes meeting yours with a dazed grin. a look that only lasted momentarily as her dazed grin turned into a hungry one. her lips attacked your own in that same visceral pattern you had hers only moments before. the dazed look now upon your face as you hold back a moan. you the once strong dominant figure reduced to clay in her calloused hands. she molds your body like art. hands cupping your breast like she's shaping you. her fingers pinch your perked nipples and her eyes remain on yours like she's admiring her work. the same rough hands trail down your stomach earning a jump from you. she lets out a low chuckle seemingly amused by your response. your face forms into a pout. almost immediately the pout is replaced with a pleasurable look. her fingertips trail down to your thighs and she sinks to her knees. kissing up towards your core she giggles at how easily you melt into her hands. you tangle your fingers into her wet hair, the shower proving a barrier from the outside world. it was just you and her. and despite the compromising position you felt no embarrassment. her lips move up her nose bumping your clit. a soft moan escaping your lips . you mumble a quiet “don’t tease” that almost fell on deaf ears as the shower drowned out your voice. feeling generous she replied with a chuckle that vibrated against you and she gave into your plea. she dove her tongue into your slit. your arousal leaking all over her face as she consumes you like a starving animal. she smears it as she devours you . her nose bumping into your clit providing you a completely euphoric sensation. occasionally she  moves up from your hole sucking your pearly clit into her mouth. she bites it just a little. providing a rapturous sensation. you were close. your body aching for a release. your back arched and fingers gripping her scalp. you let go. that same galaxy inviting you for a temporary stay. she looks into your eyes wiping your juices from her face admiring the statue of pleasure she carved. standing up she kisses you. you both bask in the feelings you felt. exhaustion sweeps over your body just as euphoria did moments ago. both your bodies a sticky mess despite the water flowing down them. soft “i love you’s” are muttered still quiet enough to be basked by the water. as you  cleaned each other you relished in each other's company. you massaged love into her body as she did yours. peppering her face with love before turning off the shower and draining the evidence of your love along with then water. a silent goodbye hangs in the air. it's never said but it’s alive. dread is hanging in the air waiting for its chance to swallow you alive. you daydream of the next time she lets you hold her like this. you know her heart belongs to someone else the shuffling of her feet as she leaves you alone in an empty bathroom is evidence enough.