#commander jag

[veny-many]

Wolffe: I'm CC-3636, Wolffe, sir.

Plo: Koh-to-yah, commander Wolffe!

Wolffe: :)

Warthog: Sir, I'm Warthog. And ready for the ride!

Plo: (Oh, interesting...)

Jag: My name is Jag, General. It's honored to be meet you, sir.

Plo: ...

Plo: If I may, Would you like to explain about your name's origin?

Jag: Oh, about that! There are awesome predator in sky, the Shriek-hawks! They are called jai'galaar in Mando'a, and I took that name! But since it was too complex to say full name, I preferred Jag as my nickname.

Plo: ...

Plo: I think my clone partners really love brave wonderful beasts. That's interesting.

#star wars #the clone wars #plo koon #commander wolffe #clone trooper jag #clone trooper warthog #plo: interesting #my crack

[purgetrooperfox]

propaganda (elevator pitches) ⬇️

Nocte (sw):

is CMO of the Coruscant Guard. fiercely loyal to the Guard. deeply wary of the senate, with very few exceptions. he's my oldest oc and probably the one y'all are most likely to have heard of. integrated into arcs with many of my friends' ocs/fics/whatnot <3 what else goes in his elevator pitch,,, known to take kids and younger clones under his wing, protective to a fault, low tolerance for nonsense. beat around the bush at your own peril. questionable bedside manner. manwhore tendencies. I love him, you love him. he's been transplanted into [checks list] cod, tlou, and bebop

Uj'alayi (sw):

is an ARC trooper, used to work with the Shadows then got brutally injured and had to transition to the CG. owes his life to Quinlan Vos and is disgruntled about it. guard dog coded. his bite is exponentially bigger than his bark. on the surface: quick to laugh, quick to joke, charismatic and personable without being overbearing. this may or may not be a mask he wears. will lay a beat down on just about anyone if they Cause Issues for Fox. in the relationship of all time with Lane Hurosa (another of my ocs)

Bones (sw):

is marshal commander of the 410th recon corps under Bastra Vargdan (another of my ocs). traits include: CQC specialist, confounded by the concept of the Force, at least partly responsible for getting a gambling ring going in the GAR (has a poke face like nobody's business). outside of working hours, he's laid back, easygoing. stark contrast between On-Duty Bones and Off-Duty Bones. encyclopedic knowledge of regs, but flexible adherence to them sometimes. big brained tactical strategist, ended up teaching Bastra a Lot about like. how to lead a corps

Bastra (sw):

my Jedi 👉👈 trained by Sifo-Dyas so dookudyas is very dad-coded to him. specialized as an Investigator, excels at undercover ops. also has quite a bit of integration into my friends' oc arcs and stuff <3 buddies with Obi-Wan, gets on pretty well with the TG and CG since he spends a chunk of his time on Coruscant. ummmm he takes a Padawan like 10ish years before the war, somewhere in that range. he's a goofy guy, real stiff and formal a lot of the time but it lets up around people he trusts. of course I know him, he's me etc etc. he's currently getting transplanted into cp2077

Lane (sw):

is a journalist on Coruscant. they spend a Lot of time in the senate district, very good at schmoozing. certified flatterer. charming, if you will. always asking one million questions that senators do Not want to answer, which results in bans from various spots around the city LOL honestly they're just neat idk what to tell you. they stay following risky leads and getting themself into binds. they're squinting very hard at the details of how the Republic acquired a clone army

Myn (sw):

is a smuggler in the early Rebellion era. also a relentless optimist, sees the very first scraps of resistance and buys in immediately. IF somehow Nocte’s alive at that point, Myn's the one who tries and probably fails to sell him on participating in the rebellion

Vio Selnes (sw):

owns and operates a 24h diner on Coruscant. this diner gets heavy business from clones leaving 79s. connections to the clones leads to scattered connections with the Jedi, leads to the restaurant being used as a rendezvous point from time to time. part of Dexter Jettster's network

Jag (mk):

is part of the Kahn Guard when Kotal's in power. he was raised by the Shaolin Monks until he bailed, moved to the States, got into all sorts of illicit activities. Kung Jin eventually moves onto his couch and joins his crew. those illicit activities land him in a stint with the Black Dragon, which is a real lesson in Kano Is A Bastard. when Erron jumps ship, Jag goes with him. he's kind of an idiot, full of trussed issues, gay as hell, will bring a knife to a gunfight or a gun to a knife fight

Rose (mk):

is part of Danver's crew from before he went BD. the brains of that whole operation. she's severely underdeveloped unfortunately but I promise she's very cool. computer nerd. minimal filter on her in the best way

Eyes (cp2077):

is a ripperdoc with more focus on ripping than doc-ing. from Pacifica, got a long time connection to Mr. Hands. wound up in Maelstrom pretty young, cut his teeth on committing atrocities and revolutionizing Maelstrom's uhhh forcible cyberware implantations and general torture methods :) was real loyal to Brick, so Royce wrecked his shit when he took over, meant to kill him but he managed to get out. winds up on Viktor Vektor's table for recovery, tries very hard to turn over a new leaf. he's a fucked up bastard of a guy I shan't lie. compels me though

#clone medic nocte #arc trooper uj'alayi #bastra vargdan #clone commander bones #lane hurosa #myn gath #des 'eyes' gallagher #danver 'jag' hakka #vio selnes #rose garcia #those tags should be semi populated. i Think #leocs #bookmark

[bytebun]

hey don’t cry. 10 million blorbos from your shows, okay?

#commander cody #obi-wan kenobi #uh. i guess implied #codywan #star wars #bytebun draws #ok on twitter sometimes japanese artists i follow will caption their au posts with 'delusion for those who can accept anything' #(and then explain the au) (or at least that's what google translate tells me) #that's how i feel about this one. #can't imagine a universe where this guy would sit down to play mario cart w his bf's family after an obvious crying jag #but like maybe he watched legally blond or something & got rlly moved #abt the main character finding her own path with an identity separate from her partner without losing the core elements of her personality #and self-expression. and also winning at the law. you know? #au cody can have elle woods as his blorbo. #in my au where he's doing law things re: clone citizenship #but also fuck stylizing crying genuinely hard. idk if i can get stylistically simpler than the first pic & still convey the precise emotion #that i want. i'm cheating there with like some actual shading instead of hard lines... more studying required #it's like difficult to draw people crying bc/ it's one of those emotions that changes the whole shape of your face... the invert of a #beaming smile. the tears aren't the important part... that's why the 'stoic guy sheds single tear trope' is so funny #they're out there w their plastic immobile faces and a fake tear when the important part is all those scrunched up microexpressions #someone trying rlly hard not to cry has the deeper mouth corners & tense brow-eyelid combo & that wrinkle near the nostril #unfortunately all of these lines are also the only indication of old age in most anime lmao so its so so hard to figure out how to draw em #shld do some ch*insawman or g*lden kmy studies probably. those guys r pretty good at funny looking faces

[totallycorrectjediorderquotes]

Wolffe: I truly hate it here.

Boost: Now replace “it” with women. Not so funny now is it

Warthog: Now replace “it” with women. Not so funny now is women

Sinker: Now replace “funny” with it. Not so it now women?

Jag: I’m having a fucking stroke.

Comet: Replace “stroke” with baby. Congratulations!

#Commander Wolffe #clone trooper boost #clone trooper Warthog #sergeant sinker #clone trooper sinker #captain jag #Jai'galaar #Captain Jai'galaar #clone trooper jag #Corporal Comet #clone trooper comet #104th battalion #The Vode #star wars #star wars: the clone wars #star wars: the expanded universe #Star Wars the Prequel trilogy #incorrect star wars quotes #source: twitter

[barriss-and-coffee]

I know TCW gave a few of them one off episodes, but I've always found it disappointing how little attention the RotS commanders have gotten in both canon and legends, at least Cody got a spotlight episode in Bad Batch!

Did Commander Thire understand that Vader and Anakin were the same person since he found Vader on Mustafar? What about Appo when the chips made him and his brothers storm the Jedi Temple, and attempt to kill a Senator before gunning down a youngling? What was Jag's relationship to Plo, and Wolffe? What did Bly think in the aftermath of Order 66, where he and his brothers literally shot their general in the back? What are Baraca and Neyo's stories?

#I'm just nostalgic because of their action figures #Commander Cody #Commander Bly #Commander Appo #Commander Thire #Captain Jag #Commander Bacara #Commander Neyo #TCW #The Clone Wars #Order 66 #Revenge of the Sith #star wars

[k-i-l-l-e-r-b-e-e-6-9]

Jag Panzer - Sworn To Silence

#Jag Panzer #Chain Of Command #Sworn To Silence #Full-length #Release date: #June 21st #2004 #Genre: #Heavy/Power Metal #Themes: #Destruction #Metal #Dark fantasy #Warfare #Literature #Shakespeare #Ninjas #USA

[jonberry555]

Una Doesn't Have Effective Counsel Assigned by Starfleet JAG Officer #startrek #strangenewworlds

#Una Doesn't Have Effective Counsel Assigned by Starfleet JAG Officer startrek strangenewworlds #youtube #shorts #youtube shorts #jonberry555 #star trek #st strange new worlds #strange new worlds #star trek strange new worlds #commander una #una

[raurquiz]

#otd #startrek    #thenextgeneration #themeasureofaman #picard #riker #troi #data #laforge #worf #drpulaski #wesleycrusher #obrian #guinan #jag #captain #phillipaduvois #admiralnakamura #commander #brucemaddox #startrek56 @startrekonpplus https://www.instagram.com/p/Com5KMuu8Sy/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

#otd #startrek #thenextgeneration #themeasureofaman #picard #riker #troi #data #laforge #worf #drpulaski #wesleycrusher #obrian #guinan #jag #captain #phillipaduvois #admiralnakamura #commander #brucemaddox #startrek56

[rafeandonlyrafe]

carnival

this fic is 100% inspired by this edit from rafesins, please go watch and support it on tiktok!!!

words: 1.7k

warnings: 18+ only, smut, dealer!rafe, reader does coke, blowjob, p in v sex, unprotected sex (but reader is on birth control), kinda sex as payment??

“what you want, pretty?” rafe asks, already tugging you towards the back room. “some white, and then you.” you smirk at him, pulling your lower lip between your teeth.

“yeah?” rafe smiles at you, shutting the bedroom door behind you, usually off limits for those seeking some of his stash, but not for you. 

“here baby.” rafe tosses a small baggie at you, filled with white powder. you tap it out onto the back off your hand in a jagged line, but it doesn’t matter the presentation as you sniff up the coke, barely able to put the rest of your bag in your purse before it hits you.

“how much i owe you?” you ask.

“you should know better than that.” rafe shakes his head. “i don’t need your money.” you don’t bother to respond, sinking immediately to your knees, glad for the plush rug keeping them from bruising. “just need your mouth.” rafe undoes his belt, allowing your hands to take over and pull it free from the belt loops. 

“good thing im a pro.” you make quick work of rafes pants, tugging them down for him to step out of, knowing the night isn’t going to end just from you sucking him off.

you rub your hand over his length, the material of his underwear still blocking you, but he’s already hard, was the second he saw you at the party, knowing you would eventually come to him.

“cmon, pretty.” rafe encourages you, his voice soft but you know its not a request, but rather a command for you to stop teasing.

you pull his underwear down, mouth immediately surrounding his cock before its even all the way down his thighs. rafe lets out a moan, not caring who could possibly hear him.

“thats it.” he groans when you suck lower, being careful not to let your teeth accidentally scrape against his length.

“so good.” you mumble when you pull back to kiss at his tip, licking your tongue over his slit to collect any precum that has leaked, moaning when you taste him on your tongue.

you don’t savor it for long before sinking your head again, setting up a fast rhythm, pushing his cock all the way down your throat and then pulling back until just his head is between your lips.

your gag reflex doesn’t make an appearance, it hasn’t since you first started sucking rafe off for blow, gagging only once when you realized how much bigger he was than anyone you’ve had before. you’ve never made a mistake since.

rafes moans are like music to your ears, the song pumping from the speakers at the party going on throughout the rest of the house also filling the bedroom.

go, go, go, go

head so good, she a honor roll

she’ll ride that dick like a carnival

i done did the impossible

you pull away to blink up at rafe, unsure if its the influence of the song or the drugs in your system mixing with the alcohol you pregramed. “let me ride you, rafe.”

“fuck, yeah.” he nods without a second thought.

“cum in my mouth first? i do owe you for the coke.” you want to make sure rafe is down for getting it up twice in one night, but he doesnt use his words to confirm, instead wrapping his hands in your hair and shoving your head back down.

you moan around his cock, knowing how much rafe likes feeling the vibrations as he starts to press his hips forward. you stop your motions up on down, covering your teeth and relaxing your throat.

“fuck yes.” rafe groans, thrusting forward while holding your head still, allowing him to fully shove down your throat.

you place your hands on his thighs to keep yourself stable as he fucks your throat, making you even more excited to get inside of him later, to feel him thrusting up into you while he’s on top.

“close.” rafe warns, your mouth far too good to last any longer, especially not with the promise of your pussy next.

you glide one hand up his thigh, cupping his balls, and its what sends rafe over the edge, groaning out your name as he cums, releasing into your mouth. 

you suck him gently through his high before pulling off, opening your mouth to show rafe your cum covered tongue.

“jesus, baby, you deserve all the blow in the world for that head.” you swallow before smiling up at him, “thank you, rafey.”

rafe helps you up, your legs a little numb from kneeling down, but its out of your mind as rafe wraps his arms around your waist, hauling your body against his in a strong kiss.

“get on the bed.” you pull away from rafes mouth. rafe is slow in unbuttoning his shirt, his fingers moving slowly as he watches you grab your purse from the floor, inhaling some more of the white powder before you step out of your heels, revealing your perfectly painted white toenails.

rafe licks his lips as he climbs onto the bed, now completely naked as you stand in front of him, moving slowly to the music as your hands run over your body, dress not hiding anything as it fits you like a second skin. 

you don’t tease rafe for too long before you begin to strip your clothes off, revealing that you’ve just got a bra on underneath your dress, having forgone panties like you always do on nights out, not caring if anyone sees your pussy.

you crawl onto the bed, watching rafes cock twitch, already halfway hard again just from watching you get naked for him.

“love these tits, come here baby.” rafe says, his back propped up by the headboard. you crawl onto his lap, hovering your cunt over his cock to tease him as rafe cups your chest, smirking when you jiggles your boobs in his face.

“you could do lines off them sometime.” you offer rafe, his eyes lighting up as he looks at you.

“damn, you really work for your free stash, don’t you baby?” he laughs. you know you’re going above and beyond, but its not truly about the free drugs and rafe knows it.

you reach between your bodies as rafes thumbs swipe over your nipples, watching them harden before his eyes as you grasp his cock, only having to give it a few strokes before he’s ready to go again.

“clean?” you ask rafe, hoping you can have him without a condom.

“yeah. pill?” he asks you.

you shake your head and tap the side of your arm. “implant.”

rafe nods. “i’m taking you raw then.” 

“damn right.” you nod, raising your hips to line up your entrance with his cock, sinking down with a soft moan, having to move slowly with rafes cock stretching your walls.

“oh shit.” rafe groans, his head falling backwards against the headboard. “youre so fucking tight.”

you make a point to clench around his dick, tightening your pussy even more around him before beginning to move, starting slowly as you move back and forth, rafes hands moving down to hold your waist as your hands press against his abs to give yourself some stability.

you lean in to kiss rafe, needing his mouth back on yours as you begin to bounce faster, thighs straining as you ride him.

rafe moans into your mouth, letting you move however you please, knowing this won't be the last time he has you naked before him, not going to be able to hold back now that he's got a feel of your pussy.

“so big.” you coo out, hips moving from side to side, almost in a dancing motion as you ride, occasionally pressing all the way down to grind your clit into his body. you can feel his abs clenching underneath your palms as rafe gasps and groans, making you smile, realizing how good you're making him feel.

you suddenly pull off, making rafe cry out at the loss, but you quickly turn and line your pussy back up with his cock. you place your hands between his legs on the bed and lower your cunt over his cock, ass now facing rafe.

“oh fuck.” he moans, hands gripping your bum as you begin to bounce it up and down, using every trick you have in your book, loving the way rafe feels inside of you, long and thick.

“love your dick.” you look over to your shoulder to tell rafe. “want you to cum in me.”

“keep going like that baby and im gonna.” rafe warns. 

you smile and face forward to put all your effort into riding rafe, knowing your ass must be bouncing deliciously from the way he grips and slaps at it while you move.

you gasp when rafe suddenly pushes you forward, falling to your stomach as his body covers yours, chest pressing into your back as he cums, lodging his cock deep inside you to release himself, making you shudder as your pussy pulses around him, milking every last drop.

“oh, fuck.” rafe groans, flopping to the side, his cock slipping easily out of you.

you can't help but giggle at his heavy breathing, his eyes closed as his chest rising up and down.

you shimmy closer, trying to keep your thighs squeezed shut to not leak all over the bed. “that was so good, rafey. can't believe we hadn't done that before.”

“never gonna settle for just your mouth now that ive felt that.” rafe laughs out, placing his hand behind your head to bring you in for a kiss. “although you do have a hell of a mouth on you.”

“well you'll have to have both because there's no way im gonna stop sucking you off.” you laugh.

“i think that can be arranged.” rafe smirks, sighing when someone knocks at the door, probably barry needing him to keep selling.

“find me after the party?” you question, sliding off the bed, knowing you'll need to find a bathroom as soon as you leave the bedroom to clean yourself up.

“of course.” rafe nods, standing up as well and quickly getting redressed before helping you with your dress and heels.

someone knocks again and you go to head for the door, but rafe grabs your hand, slipping another baggie of white powder into it.

“you've earned it.” he smiles at you.

you grin back, pulling him in for one more kiss before heading out into the chaos.

taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @forstarkey @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @cutielando @kamninaries @buckyswhxre @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary @rubixgsworld @wearemadeofstardust0 @leighbronk @starkeysheart @pradabambie @tobesolovelysstuff @alexiskirkland @rafestar @brioffthegrid @juniebugg @magicalyoura @die4niyahhh

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[pinerhollywood]

Jagged alliance 2 gold 1.12 launcher commands

#JAGGED ALLIANCE 2 GOLD 1.12 LAUNCHER COMMANDS INSTALL#

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Or from the command line, go to the Jagged Alliance directory and type JAPE.JAR. Use a clean install of JA2 1.12 with the stable v1.13 r7435 b7609 installed on top of it overwriting all files, and v1.11 of Arulco Vacations extracted over. Play mobile casino not on GamStop and get extra bonuses on HOME + '-' or '+' Decrease/Increase Line of Sight Information. JAPE: A Jagged Alliance 2 Person Editor Readme File - 14 October 2008. Hos oss på hittar du all information om casino utan svensk licensĪ - Beste online casino anmeldelser. greek concerned finish command critical hot lebanon channel census houses. Moon hungers Unearth a strange, dark fantasy tale filled. Hitta det bästa casino utan svensk licens på CUSLĪrab Casino with high bonuses and latest casino games in arabic. their : or its one after new been also we would two more first about up. Slash and parry with your sword, wield unique special weapons, and command powerful Witchery. OS/2 rely heavily on command-lines passed. The cryptocurrency revolution is upon us and there are many bitcoin casinos you can check out and play with ease in 2022 the shell, and then passed on to another program to launch the document.

#Jagged alliance 2 gold 1.12 launcher commands

[morallyinept]

Touch - A Joel Miller One Shot

Summary: Inspired by that GIF. You know the one. Yeah. Nuff' said.

Pairing: Post Outbreak Joel Miller x F!Reader (No name or physical description of reader, however they do have hair - length or colour not defined. Otherwise it’s you, bub.)

Word Count: 1.7K

Scoville Smut Rating:🌶️🌶️ “It's the emergence, of."

Check out my Scoville Smut Ratings here.

Warnings/Triggers: Oral M receiving/some belly worship/Joel all wet and in a towel.

NSFW. MINORS DNI! OVER 18’s ONLY. YOU ARE SOLELY RESPONSIBLE FOR WHAT YOU READ.☝🏻Don’t come at me; you’ve been plenty warned.

I write for me, and I share with you. If this story isn't to your taste, that's fine. Just slip quietly out the back door. No need to make a fuss. It's just a work of fiction.

Author’s Note: The brain rot happened when I saw those GIFs floating around again this evening... this is the result of said brain rot. 🫠

MAIN MASTERLIST | JOEL MILLER MASTERLIST

Enjoy! 🖤

As he steps out of the shower, padding barefoot across the floor, a threadbare white towel is wrapped snugly around his waist; its thin cotton fibres absorbing the lingering pelts of water that cling to his skin. 

The towel, worn from years of faithful service, is slightly frayed at the edges and clings to his behind tightly.

Droplets of water cascade from his damp hair, trickling down his skin in rivulets, leaving behind a trail of tiny, glassy tracks that catch the dim light of the dingy room. The air is filled with the ghostly aroma of his soap, a crisp blend of eucalyptus and mint that lingers on his freshly cleansed skin wafting out at you.

Standing before the small, chipped mirror hanging on the wall, Joel lifts a wide-toothed comb, its teeth glistening with tiny diamonds of water caught from his damp hair. With practised precision, he draws the comb through his strands, guiding them back from his forehead in sleek, smooth strokes. 

Each pass of the comb tames usually unruly locks, coaxing them into submission as they cling to the dampness of his scalp. Each stroke brings a sense of order to the chaos, as they yield to the direction of his swift hand.

The dampness of his hair lends it a sleek sheen, accentuating the natural texture and revealing shades of chestnut and mahogany hidden beneath the shimmering silver layers.

As he combs his hair back, the flex of his arm reveals the taut strength that lies beneath the surface, the muscles contracting and releasing with fluid ease. Reflected in the mirror, his image takes shape, the chiselled contours of his bronze, weathered face defined by the stark contrast of wet hair against skin.

There's a sense of cool composure about him, an aura of strength and resilience that radiates from his every pore. Drops of water pool and cling to his temples, tracing a path down the curve of his jawline before disappearing into the recesses of the towel wrapped securely around his waist.

His posture exudes confidence, his towering stance commanding as he gazes intently at his reflection - the determination in his eyes mirrored by the unwavering resolve of his physical presence.

Then, those deep, trenching eyes find yours in the mirror, enticing you to crawl off the end of the bed towards him. Revelling in the feel of your palms sliding up his broad back and over his shoulders as you press ornate kisses into the centre of his spinal column. 

He smells really good; a carbolic free scent of freshly clean skin and musk. You inhale as you run your nose against the expanse of his upper back, cheeks resting against cool, drying skin. 

Joel turns to face you, briefly catching your lips against his whilst your fingers untuck his towel, letting it fall to its death around his feet. And you can’t help but follow as you lower yourself down on your knees, admiring up at him.  

You kiss over the thick shape of his hips, the swell of his paunch, lick over his slotted belly button with a gentle hum. Trace each little freckle and scar and jagged stretch mark.

Kiss over his fingertips as they find your lips, nip gently at his thigh, slip your tongue into the high crease of it; a flurry of damp, fuzzy hairs tickling at your jaw. 

His own thick fingers curl around his hardening cock, holding and stroking himself as your hands run over the soft, downy swell of his belly again. Letting your fingertips circle around the grey, silken hairs and golden, sun-eroded skin that's warm. Splaying your digits to reach wide and far over him; the scent of his cock inches from your face as he gently pumps.

You reach your arm up, stroking over his stacked chest; fingers gliding over puffy nipples and soft hairs that are smattered and patchy with grey. You stroke down his bicep, his forearm as he works his turgid cock inside a hefty calloused palm. Feel how the solid sinew and muscle moves and flexes with every stroke under your touch.

You run your fingers in the dark hairs that cover his arm and watch enthralled at his strength. Joel strokes a thick, weeping cock in his palm as your eyes drop to it and you lick your lips. 

“Ya want it?” Joel entices, his voice a low grizzle of gravel. 

Smirking, you nod up at him as he takes your exploring hand in both of his and slides it down his groin until you’re curling your fingers around his thickness. 

“Have it, darlin’. S’all yours.”

His cock is magnificent, a work of art. Flushed a tanned pink, uncut head swollen and wet. A shaft pebbled with swollen veins and ridges, a small puff of hairs at the base. 

Tongue barely tracing the tip, your breath is a soft tease leaving him hissing in want already. You lick under his length, gentle laps of your tongue from base to tip; end flicking over the frenum and making his thighs buck at that sensitive spot.

You love the way he twitches on your tongue. The way his jaw tightens as he grinds down on his teeth, the strangled little grunts he makes as he breathes.  

You kiss his head like a long lost lover, making out delicately at a pace that is sufficiently cruel in its tease. Lips puckering over him as you suck the bulb in; you circle around the rim, hands free, lips rolling over the tip and tongue still continuing that heady tease. Your hands stroking over his heavy thighs, sculpted with muscle, you can feel them ripple beneath your touch. 

“You taste so good, Joel… So hard for me.” You whine.  

You suck off the crystalised bubble of pre-cum seeping out of him; a simple purse of your lips around his tip, sweet salt flooding on your tongue. 

Thick around your lips, he slowly goes all the way down as you open wider. 

You’re a vision; hollowed cheeks, swirling tongue. Joel gulps; a stray, grey curl falling across his forehead as he stares down at you panting. Wanting.

Wanting nothing more than to pick you up and fuck you senseless; drive you deep into the mattress hollering his name, but his feet stay planted in place, your hands on his thighs and lips sucking around his cock. 

“Look a’me,” he husks as your mouth opens around him further to take him in deeper.

Your eyes flit up to his - two darkening orbs staring down at you, pink velvet lips parted. 

“That damn mouth, darlin’...” he groans looking skyward. Eyes glazing over and neck cords beginning to rise and twist. “Fuck, that’s good. God damn.” 

Massaging his balls as you suck him in deeper, your nose presses into that warm, puffy skin and breathes in the scents of bergamot and flesh. 

He starts to rock his hips, fucking gently into your mouth. His giant palm coming up behind your head as he slides further down your willing throat.

You love the touch of him, fingers tightly wringing at your skull, roots of your hair getting snagged. You work him up and down with your lips clamped tighter around his cock. Tongue massaging against his shaft, fingers massaging around his firm balls.

“Ya so good at sucking my cock.” He grunts.

“My cock, Joel.” You correct, a string of saliva threading from his shiny head to your lips. 

“Always yours, darlin’. So fuckin’ pretty like this for me, ain’t ya? Fuck.” 

You bring him to that point; that moment when he feels like he can’t hang on much longer. Your mouth popping off the end of his head and simply going back to just licking him, enticing a small growl at the back of his throat.

“Darlin’-” he warns. 

“Joel.” You reply coyly with a smirk. 

He likes the agony, you can see it in his eyes, despite his lips curling back. That beautiful excruciation when he’ll not quite leap, but will teeter dangerously on the edge and sway. It’s fucking gorgeous, the precarity of it all. The weakness in his strength, the painful desire in his eyes.

How his hips involuntarily buck and his thighs shudder. How his balls pull tighter in their swell around your fingers. How his cock flinches and throbs as your tongue brushes over sensitive spots. How you bring him to his knees with just your mouth. Tongue swirling around and lips closing over the head as you suck him back in. 

“Bet ya so wet for me, ain’t ya?” He groans, watching himself slide into your hot, wet mouth with a fevered pace now.

You want it, want him. Hard and thick in your mouth like this. Heavy against your tongue. It makes you wet, makes you positively buzz and flare for his fat cock inside your mouth.

You squeeze your thighs together, your slick already dripping out of you.

“Mhm.”

“Fuck.” He feels the vibrations on his head as you hum and murmur.

He always knows. Knows how you’re so wrecked for him. He pops out your mouth as you fist your saliva around him.

“Joel. Come for me. Please. Let me taste you. Let me please you… come for me, Joel.” 

He grunts at your soft compulsion, the way your skilled tongue slides over his tip, teasing into the slit and tasting the glossy liquid that drips silky out of him. 

You pump him faster, palms on either side of his cock, pulling back and forth, as he whines above you; a broad, towering totem of grunts and pants. 

“M’gonna come.” Joel takes his cock and pumps fast. An explicit snarl lacing around his teeth. Flared nostrils and a strained neck.

Roped, veined hand manhandling his cock as your mouth opens and your tongue rests on the underside of his head, waiting for your thick, creamy reward. 

“Lemme see.” He groans.

You open your mouth wider as he spills out in plentiful squirts into that wet flesh. Sweet expletives crack from him, gasps and wheezes tumbling out of his mouth in the giddy frenzy.

Pearly froth on your tongue, you suck and lick him clean, making his legs fully buckle.

A hefty hand brushes through his hair; damp grey curls fluffing up again with the heat coursing over his skin.

You lick your lips, holding his stare as he strokes down the side of your face with a thick finger; deep chocolate eyes melting down his cheeks, he regards you for a few moments looking all the way up at him with a blooming smile. 

Breathing out, Joel juts his chin out at you with a single nod towards the bed.

“Your turn, darlin’.” 

Thank you so much for reading this Joel story. I hope you enjoyed it. Comments are always welcome, as are re-blogs if you liked what you just read. Many thanks! 🖤

MAIN MASTERLIST | JOEL MILLER MASTERLIST

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #joel miller #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal characters #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller tlou #joel miller smut #jett's writing

[purgetrooperfox]

🙏Doth thou have eine liste of your OCs??? So we may ask questions about them?? bitte

I don't,,,, YET but this did give me a kick in the ass to put together a decently comprehensive one (bc I've been meaning to for ages)

if tumblr's search functionality works at all, I do tag all of my oc posts here and on ao3 as follows 💃 idk how populated these tags are but they're the ocs I think about the most

#leocs - is my catch all oc tag

this is my ao3 collection of fics featuring my ocs

star wars ⬇️

#clone medic nocte - is my most developed oc, he is corrie guard cmo

#arc trooper uj'alayi - he is arc trooper, he is mostly corrie guard but I also throw him at the shadows

#bastra vargdan - he is jedi investigator, he absorbed so much of my personality that he's almost a self insert

#lān'drien "lane" hurosa - they are journalist on coruscant

#clone commander bones - he is commander under bastra, he is severely underdeveloped

cyberpunk ⬇️

#desmond "eyes" gallagher - he is ripperdoc for maelstrom

call of duty ⬇️

#atama "nocte" te rangi - he is nocte starwars transplanted into cod, he is field medic with tf141

mortal kombat ⬇️

#danver "jag" hakka - he fell in with the black dragon and may or may not have a redemption arc, he mostly lives in my gdocs drafts

#tumblr finally let me edit this draft. hello. i wasnt ignoring you i just COULDN'T FINISH #leocs #asks answered #i did start on oc refsheets btw #they're slow going because i'm trying to be comprehensive but 👉👈 #there are like. others i didn't like herr because tags are so empty. vio i miss you girl but i cant remember your tag #okay uh. #clone medic nocte #arc trooper uj'alayi #bastra vargdan #lane hurosa #clone commander bones #des 'eyes' gallagher #atama 'nocte' te rangi #danver 'jag' hakka

[the-californicationist]

The Window (Ch. 03)

Ch. 01 // Ch. 02 // Ch. 03 --- AO3

TW: breeding kink, reverse harem

You were sweating buckets in this brush cover, waiting for the enemy to pop their head over the fence. Beads of salty perspiration ran down your face in thin rivulets, threatening your eyes and soaking into your keffiyeh. 

“You alright, little bird?” Price whispered down to you breathlessly, passing you his canteen. 

You nodded, drinking from the plastic container, slaking your thirst. You shouldn’t have been having such a hard time with the Urzikstani heat, but you were. It didn’t help that you’d gotten sick yesterday off of a bad MRE. You were just ready for this mission to be over with. 

“I didn’t hurt you last night, did I, Spar?” Ghost asked, checking his sights again, not taking his eyes off of the target. 

“No,” you shook your head, “I’m alright.”

Ghost’s comment made your memory of your night together rush back, bombarding you with ghosts of your mens’ tantric sensations all over again. 

Price had read another book about fertility, some ancient text from a few centuries ago, translated into English. And he’d been convinced that tantra was the way to go. 

“Slow down, Simon. Keep your breathing up, yeah just like that. From your belly. Tha’s a good lad,” the captain coached. 

John’s setup was very specific. All of their bodies were sandwiched around you as you lay with your back on Price’s chest, propped up into a lounging position, and Soap and Gaz were glued to your sides, each worshiping a breast at their commander’s instruction. 

Soap’s hand was glued to your belly, just above your mons, pressing down gently, squeezing you. Gaz’s hand was on your midsection, hopefully covering the right chakra, and Price’s hands were on your chest and forehead, holding your eyes up, staring into Simon’s struggling face. Meanwhile, Ghost was sheathed deep inside of you, rotating his hips without fully removing his cock, churning himself inside of you like a big, burly engine, breathing like he was running a marathon. 

You, too, were breathing. In when he breathed in, out when he breathed out. All of you were rubbing and massaging and inhaling and exhaling. It was overwhelming. You’d never been so wet in your life. You were so soft and pliant inside of your core that you could feel every micro movement that Simon performed. If he had actually been pounding into you like he normally did, you would have been a screaming, crying mess. 

“Alright, little bird. Don’t forget your exercises,” Price reminded you, kissing your neck. You could feel John’s drooling cock as it lolled against your lower back, twitching as he watched his lieutenant work you into a froth. 

You did as you were told, completing the ritual by squeezing your smooth, internal muscles around Ghost’s impossibly fat dick on every down breath. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck…” Ghost grunted through his teeth, baring them like a wounded wolf, “I can’t…”

You raised your hands to cup his cheeks, feeling the jagged scar that cut across his mouth, and you guided his lips to yours, kissing him as gently as you could, barely letting your tongue dart out to taste him. 

Between your throbbing pussy and his soft kisses, that was all it took to push you both over the edge. He came in hot, thick bursts, more than you’d ever felt from him, and he ground his hips into yours almost menacingly. 

“Alright,” Price kissed your cheek, his face so close to Simon’s it made your head spin, “You ready?”

You didn’t respond. You just felt your legs being spread apart by six strong hands. Then, each of Price’s men began to finger you, slowly pressing their longest digits into your come-filled hole. They began to gently — ever so gently — rub Ghost’s thick cream into you, as deep as it would go, stretching you and playing in you in a life-altering way, bringing you beyond the point of orgasm and into some sort of other-worldly bliss. 

For the cherry on top, your captain began to swipe long, wet circles over your clit. You were screaming so loudly that he had to use his other hand to cover your mouth, shushing you but not stopping his ministrations.  

“Tha’s a good girl. Let it out, little bird.”

You passed out from the overstimulation before you could witness Price’s orchestrated tantra come to a close, and you wondered if you would survive round two. 

Now, as you crouched behind these scratchy bushes, you weren’t sure how much more effective tantric sex would be at getting you pregnant, but it didn’t matter. 

You already were. 

You hadn’t told them yet. From everything you’d read, these first few weeks were a toss-up. Anything could happen, and the last thing you needed was to get everyone’s hopes up. You were also being deeply selfish. What would your relationship be like when you finally found out who the father was? You didn’t want to lose out on the incredible bond you’d built with them over these last three months. 

Your eyes saw movement. Then, you heard the cracking and popping sound of bullets striking the side of the building you were huddled against. Suddenly, a loud bang rang out overhead and all was silent once more. Soap came on the radio and said, 

“Target down.” 

“I’m hit,” you whispered, staring down at your leg with disbelief. A bullet must have ricocheted and struck you in the calf. In and out. A clean wound. 

“What?” Price said breathlessly, staring down at you as the blood began to stain your pants. 

“Oh, fuck!” Gaz scrambled over to you and scooped you up, rushing you back inside. He put pressure on the wound and wrapped it up tight, opening up his comms, “Hey! We need med-evac right fucking now!”

Johnny came down from his crow’s nest and knelt in front of you, holding your hand, 

“Those fuckin’ bastards,” he looked furious, “I wasnae fast enough.”

“It’s not your fault,” you shook your head, feeling your blood pressure rise, “I think it was a stray shot.”

You heard Price’s low growl as he came over the radio, screaming at Laswell’s extraction team, 

“Where’s my fuckin’ helo?”

You watched as Price and Ghost stripped the makeshift base back to its bones, stuffing all of your gear into the bags. Gaz and Soap were on you like glue, forcing you to elevate your leg and to drink water. Rubbing your forehead, trying to relieve the pain. 

It was a long thirty minutes back to the base. Price held you in his arms all the way through the building, pushing everyone out of the way. You were flanked by the others, like one big, sweaty bodyguard squad, just for you. 

The medics took you from Price, ushering your team out of the infirmary, fighting their protests to stay with you.

“It’s a GSW to the leg, captain. I think she’ll live,” the doctor rolled his eyes and shut the door. 

After that, the only thing you could remember was coming around, still groggy from the anesthetic, listening to the doctor’s voice just outside the room, muffled and murky,

“...no complications. Should heal up in a few weeks. The baby’s lifesigns are all norm—”

“Baby?!” 

The door to the infirmary shuddered like a bomb went off, and all four men poured into the room, still dressed in their gear from your mission. They hadn’t even gone back to their quarters, worried sick, pacing the hallway. Now, here they were, wide-eyed and staring at you for some explanation. 

There was a long pause as you tried to figure out what to say. But then, Soap said it for you, a hint of hurt in his voice,

“You knew.”

It wasn’t a question, so you didn’t answer him. You simply put your hands over your belly, protectively, stammering an excuse,

“I didn’t — You shouldn’t get your hopes up. It’s too soon.”

They all spoke at once, an eruption of emotion in the tiny room, 

“...should’ve told us at once! We…”

“...you felt you had to hide it…”

“...could’ve been killed on this mission! How could…”

The doctor came back inside, huffing at the scene,

“What the fuck is this? Mamma Mia? Get the hell out! She needs rest. Get! That’s an order, Captain.”

Price and his men were silent, sorely cowed by the doctor’s orders. Soap came to your side, kissing your forehead,

“See you soon, bonnie.”

Ghost gave you a soft smile and followed him out. Gaz brushed the hair out of your face and put his hand over yours as they lay across your belly, waiting for flutters and kicks that weren’t there. His full lips found yours and he left you wordlessly.

John was the last to leave. He looked like he was at war with himself, fighting over what to say and how to say it. His boonie hat was twisted in his hands, rolled in his palms, crushed by his immense strength. He didn’t kiss you. He didn’t even say goodbye. But, those bright blue eyes bored into yours, telling you everything you needed to know. 

You were released with a pair of crutches the following morning, and while you didn’t need them there, none of the boys showed up to help you like you thought they would. You made it all the way back to your quarters before you ran into Laswell. 

“Hey, Sparrow. How are you feeling?”

“I’ll live. Where is the 141? Is there a training or something?”

“No,” Laswell knitted her brow, not wanting to share her news, “You’ve been… temporarily reassigned. They have redeployed on another mission. Three days in Aqtabi. I’m sure they’ll touch base when they get back.”

“Reassigned?” You couldn’t believe it. You knew Price was protective, but this was going too far, “I’m… He took me off the team?”

“It’s temporary. Just until…” You watched in disbelief as her eyes trailed down not to your wound but to your belly, “Well, anyway, congratulations, soldier.”

She gave you a soft smile and left you standing in the hallway, experiencing every emotion at once, and landing on anger. No, not anger. White-hot rage.

#call of duty fanfic #cod mw2 #captain john price #cod mwii #call of duty #task force 141 x reader #tf 141 x reader #task force 141 #tf 141 #141 x reader #mw2 141 #cod 141 #kyle gaz garrick #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley

[totallycorrectjediorderquotes]

Wolffe: How is everyone?

Boost: I'm good. Oh, but Jag got hit by a Slugthrower. Just mentioning it.

Wolffe: He got shot?!?

Sinker: No. Someone just straight up threw a Slugthrower round at him.

#Rip Jag he will never know peace #Commander Wolffe #clone trooper boost #sergeant sinker #clone trooper sinker #clone trooper jag #captain jag #Jai'galaar #Captain Jai'galaar #104th battalion #the vode #star wars #star wars: the clone wars #Star Wars the Prequel trilogy #star wars: the expanded universe #incorrect star wars quotes #source: house

[thisblogisaboutabook]

Rainy Season - Part 3

Storm Warning

Azriel Eris x Reader

We’ve got a time jump and are swapping points of view for this chapter y’all.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4

3 months later

Eris Vanserra hated the Summer Court. The humidity anywhere outside of the temperature regulated zones of Adriata, the way his hair clung to his forehead and caused curls to form in his otherwise immaculate hair, but most of all it was just insulting to be so bothered by the heat itself when he quite literally had fire in his veins. He couldn’t get out of here fast enough.

Tarquin strode alongside Eris through the open air lower levels of his keep, three of his guards and two of Eris’ own flanking them several feet behind, one could almost forget they were there if not for the “click clack” of feet echoing through the halls. Eris would be lying if he said he didn’t have to try very hard to focus on the mundane talk of trade routes and port authorities instead of getting lost to the sounds of crashing waves and gulls outside.

Tarquin broached the riveting subject of tariffs on imports from the continent as the first rumble of thunder boomed in the distance. Now that - Eris enjoyed that aspect of the court. Autumn had no shortage of rain but the turbulence of storms often mirrored his own inner peril - made him feel less alone in the world. And truthfully, there was nothing like taking cover from the rain and listening to the rumble outside, watching the lightning dance across the skies as the loud cracks of thunder commanded the attention of anyone within earshot.

“Have your people felt the same effects, High Lord?” Tarquin broke Eris from yet another drift of his thoughts. He really should have brought a secretary or advisor along for this meeting.

Sparing Eris from the embarrassment of asking Tarquin to repeat his last three minutes of speech a cry broke through the hall. The battle cry of a…. Child?

“AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

Followed by a yelp of “ow!”

Eris’ head jerked as he found himself drifting toward the action.

Turning a corner he found a woman laying on the ground, curled into a ball - a child of no more than 10 with a large jagged stick standing over her with his chest puffed out, pure smug joy on his face.

Eris looked to Tarquin who only grinned with satisfaction. Eris gaped before Tarquin quietly whispered, “just watch.”

The woman didn’t move. The child’s look of satisfaction slowly turning to that of concern as she lay there. He bent over the woman placing a hand on her shoulder, his brows knit together. “Lady L/N?”

So focused on the woman on the ground before him, the boy didn’t notice her arm slowly sneak around him and “Oof!” The kid let out a startled breath as she grabbed his ankle, ripping it out from beneath him, effectively leaving the child on his behind.

The female lept up into a crouching position. Her tanned, muscled thighs pushing her up to stand effortlessly. “And that, little ones, is why you never let your guard down with an adversary.”

Eris turned, wondering how he could have missed the group of children sitting on the other end of the room watching the scene unfold.

The boy remained on his behind, hands resting on his forehead in defeat.

“Hey-“ She reached a hand out to help him up. “You did a great job. You quite literally swept me off my feet! Nobody has done that in quite some time.” She paused, sadness twisting her features as if her own words struck her before shifting back to that of a proud instructor. “In fact - I have something for you.”

She reached into the pocket of her calf-length, flowy pants and reaching handing him a shell. “Add this to your leather strap.” She tapped a leather bracelet on his wrist, one shell already strung on it. “You did great, kid.” The boy gave her a genuine smile as he returned to the rest of his classmates.

Eris shifted involuntarily. How much had he wished for someone to say those words to him when he was a child?

Tarquin chuckled “An excellent motivator. Shells. Who knew?”

Eris gave a small smile - brief but genuine before adjusting back into his usual mask. The instructor turned to face them and cauldron damn him if she wasn’t the most gorgeous thing he’d ever seen. Radiant skin that came from plenty of time in the sun, silky hair that practically begged to have fingers run through it, a soft and curvy yet toned build. A body that told him she indulged herself in what she enjoyed but was active enough to define her plush features, likely blessed with great genetics - lithe yet perfectly squeezable in all his favorite places.

“High Lord.” Her voice carried to him like an ocean breeze. She bowed her head in a respectful greeting, long lashes fluttering. “How may I be of service?”

“Lady L/N,” Tarquin beamed. “It’s a pleasure to introduce you to Eris Vanserra, High Lord of the Autumn Court.”

Her brow puzzled for a brief moment before bowing her head again. “It’s an honor to meet you, High Lord.”

“A pleasure to meet you as well, lady.” Eris replied sincerely, meeting her bright eyes. “I didn’t realize Tarquin was hoarding such beauty within his keep.”

“We have many treasures in our court, High Lord. She is one of our brightest.”

Rather than blushing, the female held her head high, giving a polite “Thank you, High Lord.”

“We must be getting to lunch now. Have a pleasant rest of your class, Lady L/N.” He turned to the children with a stern look “And children, behave for her.” following the reminder with a smile and cheeky wink.

—————

It was hours later that Eris was released from meetings for the day. Unfortunately, there was still more to be discussed that would have to wait for tomorrow. Making the way to his guest suite, Eris found himself wondering about the instructor from earlier. Something about her felt vaguely familiar but he couldn’t quite place it.

After changing out of his stuffy clothes into something more befitting of the climate, Eris paced his room. He’d forgotten how much longer daylight lasted here than in his own court, with several hours remaining before dusk. He supposed he could brave the heat and take a stroll through the palace grounds, preferably without his entourage of guards.

Relieving the pair from their duties, Eris wandered through the gardens and toward a small grove of trees on the other side of the palace grounds. He could hear running water from a garden tributary that likely connected into the river that emptied into Adriata’s harbor.

Sauntering through the grove, he was pleased to find reprieve from the heat, the cool air wafting off of the stream and shade from the trees turning the grove into a private oasis. It wasn’t particularly trekked through. “Finally.” he thought to himself. A moment of peace.

Situating himself on an iron bench, Eris looked up, only to find that through a thicket of cattails, Lady L/N was standing on a rock upstream, eyes closed and balancing on one leg. Given her steady, intentional breathing he supposed she was meditating. It was odd - seeing her like this - strangely intimate to see someone in such an isolated state of catharsis, unaware of his own presence before her. The sun rays shone through cracks in the leaves, shrouding her in tiny fragments of light that made her tanned skin near golden. Her hair was wind blown from the breeze winding through the grove off the ocean, and she’d changed into a thin cotton sundress. Gods, maybe the Summer Court wasn’t so bad after all. The way it effortlessly flowed over her body perfectly accentuating her ample curves, and those tanned, toned legs - yeah, he should probably leave.

After momentary internal warring he began to stand but before he could sneak off, she gasped. Clutching her arms to her rib cage. “MOTHER FUCKER!” she screamed. Vulgar words coming from such a pretty mouth.

What an interesting method of meditation.

She took several breaths before resuming her position. Another minute went by when she audibly growled. “Bastard!!” She clutched herself again, keeling over. Finally she sat down on the rock, the hem of her dress soaking in the stream’s rippling water, and pressed her head into her hands. Eris thought she was crying.

He really should leave but - memories of his mother crying over the years flashed into his mind. All the years that she only had he or Lucien to console her, kindered spirits brought together by Beron’s casual cruelty. His other brothers being the emotionally void carbon copies of their father they were, paid no mind to their mother’s plight.

Yet still, he didn’t know her. She didn’t know him. She likely didn’t want him bothering her.

Against his better judgement, he found himself drawn in by her familiarity and approached. As he drew closer, he realized her sobs were not sobs at all. She was muttering the raunchiest, most vile slew of curses that he’d ever heard. Lucien would enjoy this female.

As he approached, she jerked her head up. The lovely, collected face from earlier twisted into one of contempt. He wondered if she knew that, that face was, well, adorable like a fierce little kitten. Although, something told him to tread carefully. She may look adorable but he’d bet good coin that her bite matched that of a lions.

“What do you want?” She spat.

Eris only smirked. “And here I thought you were a lady.”

Baiting her. Genius idea, Eris.

“Only within the palace.”

“You’re still on palace grounds.” Shrugging with the statement, Eris put his hands in his pockets - damn these Summer Court linens really were comfortable.

“Well, I was alone until you intruded.” she murmured, not meeting his eyes.

“Did you win Tarquin’s good graces with such manners?”

Her expression filled with ire as she looked up at him. “Did you take your throne by being such a prick?”

Eris couldn’t help but laugh at her bravado. This female either REALLY didn’t like him or truly didn’t care about consequences. “Ah, so you do know who I am.”

“You’re a High Lord. Of course I know-“

Her words cut off as she clutched her ribs again, tighter this time. A shudder escaping her. This time the pain seemed to last longer. And this time he could have sworn her voice cracked as she swore.

“Hey” Eris stepped into the creek, not bothering to step out of his sandals. Before he could hesitate he crouched down before her, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Breathe.”

The thing was, he recognized that pain well. It has been centuries but damn he remembered it so clearly.

“Breathe through it. Think of something that makes you smile.”

She clutched herself harder, shaking her head. “Think of the look on your student’s face when you gave him that shell today.”

She breathed in deeply this time instead of letting out another curse.

“Good. Hold for three beats.”

“Now let the breath out.”

She breathed out. “In again.” He instructed. She followed suit. “Now out.”

As her breath steadied, she met his eyes - momentarily soft, a little broken, before ire crossed them again.

“For fucks sake, High Lord.” She spat. “I came here to meditate. I know how to breathe.”

She sure as shit seemed to have forgotten how to for a moment there, but he kept that to himself.

He only let out a soft laugh.

“There she is.”

She scowled in return.

“So, Lady L/N” he began, standing and extending a hand to help her up.

“Y/N.” She interjected, taking his hand. “Call me Y/N.”

Y/N. Fitting, he thought. The kind of name a tropical storm would be given.

Wait. Y/N L/N. Oh, he knew exactly why she was so familiar now. No wonder she’d given him that puzzled look in the palace. And, if Eris recalled correctly, his brother actually was rather fond of her - in a friendly and platonic sort of way. Though in his tales of the Night Court he’d certainly never mentioned the fact that she looked like a gods damned deity.

He led her out of the creek, not quite ready to drop her delicate hand. “So, Y/N, tell me about this idiot mate that let the Summer Court’s brightest treasure go.”

She gaped, jaw dropping into a look of genuine shock. “How-“

“I had one too. I believe you know her.”

—————

Eris and Y/N spent hours talking in the grove. He gave her all the details of his mate, Morrigan. How it killed him to leave her that fated day. Had he touched her, his mate, Beron would have claimed her as Autumn Court property requiring a Blood Duel for the Night Court to retrieve her. Though, Beron would have ensured she never left unharmed. That aside, Eris didn’t want that blood on her hands, the blood of a blood duel or any battles over her. He didn’t want it on his hands either. It killed him to feel her pain down the bond starting from their forced engagement and through the torture her father had inflicted upon her, and the trauma that lingered thereafter. The gut-wrenching, immobilizing pain that only a mate could feel shooting through to them.

He never wanted her to feel that pain. If it hurt him that badly to only feel it down the bond, he couldn’t imagine the strife she’d felt. He wanted to run to her, to comfort her, to tell her everything he couldn’t risk saying. He was too young to face the ramifications from his father and he had his mother and Lucien to protect in those days. So he protected her in the only way he knew how to at the time. Through cold, calculated indifference. He still regretted it.

As time went on, the mask he wore became heavier and heavier, burying that bond deeper within himself. It took him until after the war with Hybern to finally lay it all out to her. Y/N never knew any of that part of the story. She knew Mor and Eris had made amends but nothing of their bond, and she knew that Mor was happily committed to Emerie, an Illyrian female now. He was happy for his mate, as happy as a rejected mate could be.

Eris never claimed to have been in the right. In fact, what he did to Mor was wrong. The way he spoke to her as if she was no more than a common whore when facing her in front of his father at the High Lord’s meeting. Yes, it was an act but it was never okay. He’d live with that for the rest of his days. His apologies to her since never felt like enough.

Y/N empathized with Eris. He could see that she was torn but her gaze toward him softened although, never into that of pity. He liked that about her.

She shared the story of her mating bond with Azriel. And how the waves of anger and grief down the bond had increased in strength recently as she had continued healing. She laughed bitterly at the typical trajectory of females in her situation getting better over time while unfaithful males seemed to spiral as it went on. She didn’t say who he had cheated on her with but Eris had his suspicions. The Shadowsinger apparently had a thing for Vanserra mates. She laughed and cried over the hours they talked. They’d eventually ended up back in a palace seating area for a drink.

Eris hadn’t been so open with someone like this in so long that it felt foreign. Hell, opening up always felt unnatural for him. Perhaps he was stupid for sharing with her. After all, mating bonds could make people do crazy things. She could always take Azriel back and share the details of his little sob stories with the Night Court.

She’d occasionally let out a sharp breath as small jolts of emotion came rolling in. It was nearing dusk when she finally huffed, slapping her hands on her thighs saying, “Enough! This tea is weak. I need something stronger.” Pouring them each a glass of brandy, and another, and another.

As the conversation shifted from the heavier topics to lighter ones, Eris let it slip that he wasn’t fond of the summer court and found all of the sand and humidity to be unpleasant at best.

Her inhibitions were down and if Eris were being honest with himself, his were too. He hadn’t drank much since becoming a High Lord though he often felt the need for a stiff drink. No, there was too much work to be done and he was still getting his own inner circle acclimated. Trust was harder to give in the Autumn Court, especially after being under his father’s rule for so long. There were plenty of good people in the castle but just as many were corrupted under Beron’s rule. Weeding them out was consuming more of his time than anticipated.

Somehow, after their fourth drink, Y/N dragged him out onto the beach, determined to show him all the merits of the crusty, sand-infested shores.

Admittedly, her joy was contagious but he was going to make her work for any positive reaction.

“Okay!” She eagerly squealed. “First - sand castles! Have you ever built one?”

“I live in a castle.” Eris feigned boredom, inspecting his nails. “It seems unnecessary to build one out of… that.” his nose scrunched up, lip curling into a sneer as he gestured to the sand surrounding them.

“Ughhh.” Her eyes rolled back into her head as her little sun dress blew in the wind. And damn if he wouldn’t love to see her eyes going back into her head like that in other circumstances.

He was a gentlemale but a male nevertheless.

“Being High Lord doesn’t mean you have to be such a bore, but fine… No sand castles. Maybe next time!”

Next time. He liked the thought of that. My how far she’d come from practically snarling at him just this morning.

“Look!” She squealed, bringing her hands to her chest and clapping with excitement. “Dolphins! Now I know you don’t have those in the Autumn Court, Eris Vanserra.”

Fuck, his name sounded so good coming off of her lips.

He couldn’t resist smiling at her enthusiasm and then at the dolphins. They swam so peacefully in a pod through the harbor. One even let a young water wraith trail alongside it as a hand carefully gripped onto its dorsal fin as the creature pulled her along.

“The wraiths and dolphins coexist well together.” Y/N mused wistfully. “There’s a common misconception that they are territorial due to food supply but they have plenty in the harbor.”

She smiled softly. “The younger wraiths tend to bond with them and the dolphins have even been known to protect them from certain dangers.”

As the pair continued walking along the shore, the conversation occasionally faltered as Y/N would stare off distantly, as if looking for something that wasn’t there.

His heart ached for her. From what he’d gathered during their talk, she’d left the Shadowsinger, but the heart is slow to heal after losing a mate in any capacity.

Eris nudged her with his shoulder. “Hey little minx, where’d you go?”

Coming back to reality she halted. “Oh! Oh my gods. The sun is setting and you have to come with me! Hurry.”

She grabbed his wrist and he didn’t hesitate to follow along as she all but dragged him down the beach. “Hurry! We’ll miss them!”

They ran until reaching a secluded inlet of the bay. They climbed up a small rocky ledge where she sat, dangling her feet over the edge. “There’s an underwater cave-“ she breathed heavy, catching her breath. “here, beneath us and every night-“ another pause to breathe. “something magical happens as the sun sets.”

Eris, catching his own breath, waited patiently for more details but she only dropped a small pebble into the water and as she did, a rainbow of luminescent fish rippled to life below the surface. There had to be thousands of them, leisurely swimming out of the cave as if they were just waking up. Shades of bright pink, green, blue, orange, and purple lit up the small inlet. Eris was awestruck, so awestruck in fact that he didn’t hesitate planting his ass next to her on the crusty sand-coated ledge.

With a wave of her wrist she pulled a bottle of rum out from the pocket realm, tugging the cork out with her teeth and taking a swig, then handing it over to him.

They sat in silence as the remaining fish left the inlet and the remaining colors of the sunset disappeared into night. Clouds began rolling in as they drank and began chatting again. Much like that morning, thunder rolled in but this time he was disappointed to hear it. He didn’t want the evening to end, wasn’t ready to let her go quite yet.

He wished he’d had a warning before the ocean winds blew this wild, beautiful storm into his life that morning. Something to brace himself against the inevitable fallout of the precarious situation he found himself in. It was a storm he was prepared to ride out and he had a feeling it would be worth whatever debris she’d leave him with.

The base of the distant thunder rumbling, the cymbal-like crash of waves on the shore, and singing of the creatures of summer nights blended together into a beautiful melody that flowed through Eris. Quickly he stood, extending a hand to her. “Dance with me, Y/N?”

She froze, that distant look crossing her eyes again for a second. He braced himself for her decline but the life returned to her eyes as a smile graced her full lips. She accepted his hand and didn’t hesitate as he tucked her into his chest, her warmth and scent lulling him into a state of bliss.

No, Eris Vanserra did not hate the Summer Court at all.

————————

This was a long one and I know it wasn’t from our girls POV but I hope you all enjoyed it 🥹 Stay tuned for more! Her story is not done yet.

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[sweet-as-an-angel]

Yandere! GILF Headcanons

Warnings: Implied Smut, Older Man/Younger Reader, Age Gap, Spanking, Jealous Dominic, Manipulation, No Pronouns used for Reader except ‘You’.

♡ Hector had only loved once before meeting you. Likewise, he had only loved once after meeting you. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t interested in you.

♡ On the contrary, when Dominic had pulled up to the sprawling manor Hector orchestrated, expecting to see Marilyn at his side yet seeing an unfamiliar face in her stead, his curiosity was, admittedly, peaked. No small achievement considering this man has done and seen everything this world has to offer.

♡ Dominic explained – in monotone French – that Marilyn was sick, hence she couldn’t come. He’d brought you – a family friend – in her place. You couldn’t ignore the waver in his voice, his pointed stare up at his father, who resided in an almost throne-like armchair behind a mahogany desk.

♡ Hector looked through Dominic and gazed at you. You could see now where Dominic’s predilection for sharp, underhanded stares originated; the founding father of Dominic’s cold architecture.

♡ You felt as if his eyes combed over your very being, unravelling all the tangles in your make-up and laying you down to your most base, threadbare foundations, seeing you for what you really were.

♡ “Very well,” the older man grumbled, only taking his eyes off you once Dominic cleared his throat. Beside you, his son’s fingers twitched. 

♡ You were excused shortly after with Dominic taking you outside, almost jogging down the steps with a haste you’d never witnessed before, and bringing you to a most isolated spot. You’d noticed a collection of staff – chefs, maids, caretakers, gardeners – crawling about the mansion. None of them resided near you now.

♡ “Don’t talk to him unless you’re with me,“ Dominic warned. In his eyes watched a man you’d never seen before. Something vaguely…human in the colour of his irises. Warm. Afraid.

♡ Interaction with Dominic’s father – Hector – was uncomfortable at first. You’d tried to juggle Hector’s hostile hospitality with Dominic’s warnings, ultimately toing and forming between the two since they never inhabited the same space for more than ten minutes whenever meals were served.

♡ One day, when Dominic had to leave the manor on important  business, unable to take you with him, he’d instructed you to stay in your room. He tried to smooth over the jagged brickwork of his command with a suave charm that could put the incarnation of panic at ease, but you could tell – for perhaps the first time – that it felt false.

♡ Dominic left. Hours passed. You grew bored.

♡ You left your room.

♡ And who did you happen to meet whilst trawling the halls, searching for any form of entertainment?

♡ Why, the very man Dominic had forbidden you from seeing.

♡ Hector came down the hall on certain footing, obviously having taken great care of his mobility in his younger years to be able to traverse the many staircases and rooms this residence held. So why did he have so many caretakers?

♡ You scarcely had time to wonder as, before you could hide, he spotted you. Ordered you to come to him. You did, hesitant. He gave you a monotone look.

♡ “You. Come with me.”

♡ You followed him to a door that felt familiar. Inside, his study. On his desk, a pre-set game of chess. He sat at his desk. He motioned for you to join him.

♡ You, with a pounding heart and a strong sense of being out of place, played chess. Hector taught you the best way to win – “For when you compete against Dominic.”

♡ You bantered, lethargic at first, until you found even footing on subjects that weren't just Hector’s only son.

♡ You wondered what it was about his father that Dominic was so keen to isolate you from, to conceal from you.

♡ Nothing you cared for, honestly. Especially when Hector showed you just how solid his sense of humour was, how intelligent he was. How lively he could be despite his initial coldness.

♡ Of course, he was still icy, very blunt most of the time. But you could tell it wasn’t his choice – he was made this way. By who or what, you couldn’t be sure. But what you did know was that you weren’t about to let Dominic’s personal vendetta ruin your budding friendship with his father.

♡ No longer did you hide from Hector’s judgement as you scampered back to your room, the shutting of the front door reverberating through the manor’s great walls; you sought refuge from Dominic’s as he came storming down the hallway, his footfalls faster than he’d have liked them to be as he rushed to check on your condition, to see you after being forced to leave you in his father’s un-care.

♡ After that, you made more of an effort to see Hector. Especially as you had few other people to talk to – Dominic especially as he seemed more and more swept up in sudden business meetings and last-minute supply chain issues.

♡ The longer you spent in Hector’s presence – in the garden, in the library, in his study for more games of chess – the more you began to see slivers of him in Dominic. Scratchings of silver beneath rock; the inclinations of a vein of purest ore.

♡ Though, that did not mean the metal that lay dormant beneath was pure in itself.

♡ On the contrary, when you weren’t around, Hector made full – and I mean full – use of the maids, caretakers and staff at his disposal. Anyone who bore a similar enough resemblance to you was subject to any manner of his objectification.

♡ Lasting stares, increasingly lewd requests, commands to snoop through the few personal belongings you’ve brought with you – the sort of thing any powerful older man will do for the object of their affections.

♡ Sexual matters aren’t off the table, either.

♡ Far from it. 

♡ In fact, it’s bent over the edge of Hector’s desk, whining and whimpering and at the mercy of a man far more experienced than his old age could belie.

♡ He’s so nasty with it, too. He knows his workers will do anything he asks of them – for the right price. And he’s got nothing but money to burn.

♡ God forbid his most recent toy talks back to him, lest they be subject to a thorough spanking by Hector’s belt.

♡ He’s still more than capable of getting himself off without the assistance of his employees, though. He just enjoys the power he has over them. Enjoys the taste of the influence he’ll have over you.

♡ Guy’s a wealthy man, he’s got cameras everywhere. And Dominic knows this. Hence he��s always around to cover you up when you’re getting changed – even if it makes him look somewhat questionable. 

♡ You’re for his eyes only, but he knows his father will find a way to try and sneak a peek of you – to show Dominic that, while in his house, you’re both under his rules.

♡ As was the case now as Hector requested for you come to his study for afternoon tea.

♡ While there, making light conversation, he dropped a question that hung, heavy, between you in a way you couldn’t quite describe/

♡ “Did I ever tell you,” began Hector, knowing full-well he’s not once recounted this tale to you. His old age will afford him the disguise of senility, if only for a short while. You’ll listen, politely.

♡ “About Dominic’s mother?”

♡ You tell him no, that not even Dominic has ever mentioned his mother – or his family – to you before. Hector hummed. Grumbled, more so.

♡ The void in his chest sank lower as he recalled to you the greatest love of his life.

♡ “Too good for this world,” he said, regaling her acts of altruism, of philanthropy. “Someone upstairs must’ve known it, too.”

♡ You had a feeling that ‘upstairs’ transcended far beyond the many dusty rooms Hector had advised you and Dominic not to go exploring during your time here.

♡ He told you, with practiced malcontent, how Dominic’s birth would be his mother’s un-birth; her escort from this life to the next. Hector sniffed, though not for tears. You still jolted forward to comfort him, though.

♡ And he wasn't one to reject your offer.

♡ The portrait of his wife – young and beautiful for a cruel infinity – watched over the two of you.

♡ “So you see,” he continued, “That’s why Dominic doesn’t visit – or I’m willing to guess, talk about – me as much as you perhaps do with your parents.”

♡ Of course, you understood perfectly where he was coming from. Something in him grinned at the idea of even a drop of a villainous hue staining Dominic’s curated disguise, making him scrub and scrub at the veneer until it wore away and revealed the corpse beneath piloted by parasites.

♡ You tell Hector that if he ever wants to talk, you’re always down to listen. Hector grants you a small smile. Artificial warmth. Gently, he slides his hand atop yours, pats it.

♡ You are the singular object his son desires. Hence, you are the object he shall steal from him, for there is no better form of discipline than loss.

♡ And Hector wants Dominic to know what it’s like to lose everything.

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