#No Major Character Death

[kybercrystals94]

The Hostage (Part 3)

Read here on Ao3!

(Part 1 & Part 2)

Rated: T | Words: 1736 | Summary: The boys wait, and unexpected consequences are met...

Hunter approaches their prisoner chained to the lower rack, and holds out a ration bar and canteen. The twi’lek man, Cenrar Kedess, sits up, shifting so that his back is against the wall. “It is not too late to accept my offer,” he says. 

Hunter scoffs. “Not interested.” 

“But I can give you twice whatever the price on my head is.” 

Hunter narrows his gaze. “Are you hungry or not?” he asks. 

Kedess snatches the meal, glaring up at Hunter and baring sharpened teeth. “You are very foolish, refusing me,” he growls.

Hunter ignores him, turning to Wrecker slouched in the crash seat across from Kedess. He hands his brother two ration bars. “I’ll come take the watch in an hour,” Hunter mutters. 

Wrecker nods. 

Hunter hesitates a moment, then reaches out and grips Wrecker’s shoulder, shaking him softly. “We’ll get her back.” 

Wrecker frowns down at ration bars in his hand. “They still haven’t made contact,” he rumbles softly. “It’s been five days.” 

Five days. Five long, terrible days…the monotony only broken by the small effort it had taken to track down Kedess. Between Tech and Echo, they’d quickly pinpointed the twi’lek’s location in a nearby sector, on a small, disreputable planet with little Empirical influence. Wrecker and Hunter had then convinced Kadess that it was in his best interest to come quietly…with the encouragement of Hunter’s blaster gouged into his spine, and Wrecker’s iron grip latched around his arm. 

“He’s just giving us time,” Hunter reasons, the same reason Tech gave him when he’d fretted over the delay in contact himself only a few minutes ago. 

“We’re us,” Wrecker says, “We don’t need this much time.”

“He doesn’t know that.” 

Wrecker tears open one of his ration bars, but doesn’t eat it, just turns the brick around in his fingers. “Do you think he’s giving her enough to eat? I’d hate for her to be hungry.” 

The question is only one of the many that have haunted Hunter ever since Omega was taken. Is she warm enough? Is she getting enough sleep? Is she being fed and hydrated? Does she have injuries? Is she scared? Does she wonder why her brothers hadn’t found her yet? Does she know they were coming, that they were doing everything they could to find her? 

Does she know they would do anything for her?

Does she know that they love her? 

Unable to find any words of comfort, Hunter doesn’t say anything at all. 

<<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>>

Echo is mindlessly reading through old reg manuals, not even sure when he’d opened the file on his data pad. The familiar documents feel safe and comforting, losing himself in the lingo and wording that had occupied so much of his mind as a cadet. It is better than where his mind tries to wander when it is left unoccupied. 

“We have coordinates,” Tech announces.

Echo pushes himself up, coming to stand over Tech’s shoulder. “About kriffing time.” 

“I’ll tell Hunter!” Wrecker is about to barrel out of the cockpit and nearly collides into the sergeant himself. 

“No message from Omega?” Hunter asks, pushing past their bulking brother. 

Tech shakes his head, already transferring the coordinates into the navigation system. “No, but they are close. Only three hours from our current location.” 

“Why wouldn’t he ask for proof that we’ve got Kedess?” Echo asks suddenly. “Seems strange that he would simply give us the coordinates to his location without ensuring we have the bounty.” 

“I’m not complaining,” Wrecker says. 

“It could be a trap,” Echo states. 

“To what end?” Tech asks. “If the kidnapper had wanted us specifically, why send us to find Kedess at all? It would have been advantageous to simply give us the coordinates from the start and ambush us then.”  

Echo crosses his arms. “It still feels like something is off.” 

“We’ll be ready for a fight,” Hunter says, “but those coordinates are the only connection we have right now to Omega.” 

Tech nods and prepares for the hyperspace jump. Echo slides back into the co-pilot’s seat, trying to squash down the uneasy feeling rattling in his chest…his brothers are right. This is their only link to Omega. 

What other choice do they have?

<<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>>

The ship is small, unassuming. 

Hunter isn’t exactly sure what he was expecting the monster-that-stole-his-kid’s ship to look like. However, he is relieved to see that it is not equipped with any sort of heavy weaponry. It is also alone. 

“What were you saying about an ambush, Echo?” Wrecker chortles. “I’d like to see that tiny little thing try and take on the Marauder.” 

“I never said I thought it was an ambush, I said I thought something was off,” Echo retorts. “I still do. I don’t like this.” 

A transmission chimes and Tech patches it through. Omega’s voice, frantic and breathless, filters through the speakers. 

“Hunter, I don’t have much time…something is wrong…you need to–” Her voice breaks when the transmission cuts out and the kidnapper’s ship explodes. 

<<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>>

Tech cannot prise his gaze away from where only moments before, a full ship had been. Shock and horror permeate to the very core of his being. His mind had calculated dozens of outcomes to the matter that was Omega’s capture. Not one of them had concluded like this. Even with the evidence quite literally splayed before them in mind staggering destruction, he finds himself unable to comprehend this version of reality.

“Scan for survivors.” The voice is Hunter’s, but the emotion behind it is foreign to its speaker: desperation. 

“Hunter…” Echo begins. 

“She can’t be dead,” Hunter growls. “She’s not.” 

“No one could have survived that,” Echo says. 

Tech begins the scan anyway, even though he knows that Echo is correct. There will be no survivors. He scans again, and again. 

[No lifeforms detected]

[No lifeforms detected]

[No lifeforms detected]

Tech forces his hands into fists to prevent himself from starting another scan. The result will be the same. Over and over again. 

Omega is gone. 

“Maybe she wasn’t on the ship.” Wrecker’s voice shakes. He is most certainly crying. 

“She hailed us on a short range transmission. There is nowhere else she could have been.” Tech hates how indifferent his voice sounds, as though he doesn’t care. 

Because nothing has ever been further from the truth. 

<<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>>

Hunter’s mind is silent and roaring. The static of a comm left on an empty channel. A droning hum numbing and excruciating all at once. Breaking through it all, a small voice whispers, curling around the chaos, gripping with sharp claws: She’s dead, she’s dead, she’s dead, she’s dead…

He is aware of arms wrapping around him, holding him too tight. He is aware of familiar voices speaking, saying familiar words and names, but his mind will not comprehend. He is aware of his own throat constricting around sounds that might be words or sobs or screams. He is aware, but he doesn’t understand. 

The only clarity is the whisper. She’s dead, she’s dead, she’s dead, she’s dead…

You couldn’t save her. 

She’s dead. 

She’s dead because you didn’t protect her.

She’s dead because of you. 

<<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>>

Wrecker wonders how many times Echo has felt this ache. It is so raw and physical that Wrecker looks down at his chest to make sure that there isn’t a gaping wound where his heart is. It isn’t the same pain he felt when they left Crosshair on Kamino. That is a dull throb, a constant reminder that Crosshair is separated from them. However, the little sliver of hope that he will come back makes the pain feel temporary and tolerable, like it will heal and leave a welted scar. 

This agony though, is deadly. Life ending. Bleeding out. A black hole consuming any past or present or future Wrecker can imagine. How can he keep breathing when Omega isn’t; his heart keep beating when Omega’s doesn’t; mind keep tripping over thoughts and memories when Omega’s won’t…ever, ever again. 

We were designed to resist emotional stress, Tech had said once, when they’d seen natborns in a village become distraught – inconsolable – over the death of several of their men who had fought alongside the Batch for a short time during a mission. Wrecker had sympathized, but had mostly felt bad that he didn’t share in their grief. That, Tech had continued, and we did not have a bond with these individuals. I’m sure we would feel differently were it one of our own. 

Somehow, they’d gone an entire war without losing one of their own…that is, one of their own. Clone Force 99 remained intact, even adopting a reg along the way. Echo was haunted by ghosts, but he always kept fighting, always moved forward. 

But how? How had he done it? Over and over again? 

Maybe Tech was wrong. Maybe the Batch hadn’t been equipped with that ability to resist emotional stress. Maybe that was part of their defect.

Wrecker rubs at the salty residue of tears on his face, long dried. Tucked under one arm is Hunter, having finally fallen into an exhausted sleep. He’d fought and snarled like a cornered, feral tooka when it’d first happened. He hadn’t cried as Wrecker had, or gone silent like Tech, or resigned like Echo. 

It had terrified Wrecker at first, seeing his composed brother about-face. He was scared of what Hunter might do, so he’d done the only thing he could think of…wrapped him up tight in an embrace. Hunter struggled against him, biting out indecipherable words, but Wrecker didn’t let go. Couldn’t let go. It felt like he might be the only thing holding Hunter together, and if he let go, Hunter would burst apart from grief. So Wrecker had held on until Hunter sagged into his grip with deep, gusting breaths, then he’d led his brother to the hold, made him sit down in a crash seat and sat next to him, pulling him close. 

Wrecker feels Kedess watching them, remembering their prisoner for the first time in maybe hours. Wrecker doesn’t know how long it's been since their whole world ended. 

“The girl,” Kedess says when Wrecker meets his eye. “She is gone?” 

Wrecker growls out an affirmative noise.

The twi’lek is quiet for a moment. “My sister died during the war on Ryloth. It is a pain I would not wish on my greatest enemy.”

Wrecker’s heart bleeds anew. “Me neither,” he manages to say, voice barely above a whisper.

A/N: **checks tags** No major character deaths, y'all! I promise!

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#star wars #the bad batch #fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #ao3 writer #tbb tech #tbb hunter #tbb omega #tbb wrecker #tbb echo #the hostage #part 3 #NO MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH #Kidnapping #hostage situation #hurt no comfort (yet) #angst

[star-wars-writing]

Espresso and Empathy

A/N: Thank you for stopping by to read this tale of Obi-Wan Kenobi and Cody. Set in the modern world, this story explores the unfolding relationship between a history professor and a coffee shop owner. I hope you enjoy this journey of discovery and connection written for the @codywanbingo with the prompt: "Air kisses".

"The Jedi's Brew" stood as an oasis of warmth and charm amidst the steel and glass of the bustling city. As one stepped through its antiquated wooden door, they were greeted by an alchemy of aromas – the rich, earthy scent of roasted coffee beans melding harmoniously with the sweet whispers of cinnamon and vanilla from freshly baked pastries. This olfactory tapestry was not just a mere welcome, but an invitation to leave the world behind, even if just for a coffee cup's time.

Inside, the ambiance was a delicate balance of comfort and elegance. The walls, painted in a soothing palette of deep blues and warm browns, were adorned with vintage star maps and framed quotes from poets and philosophers alike, each piece a nod to a universe far beyond the city’s confines. Soft, ambient lighting spilled from overhead, casting a gentle glow that seemed to slow the passage of time itself.

Furniture in "The Jedi's Brew" was a curated collection of mismatched chairs and tables, each with its own story to tell. Some were sturdy oak pieces that seemed to have grown from the floorboards themselves, while others were cozy armchairs upholstered in velvet, offering a hug to any weary traveler. The arrangement of these pieces created intimate nooks and crannies, making the space feel both expansive and invitingly close.

At the heart of the shop, the coffee bar stood as a proud altar to the art of coffee-making. An antique espresso machine, polished to a shine, hissed and puffed like a gentle dragon, crafting liquid magic cup by cup. Jars of coffee beans from around the world lined the shelves behind, each label a promise of a new adventure for the palate.

The air in "The Jedi's Brew" was alive with the soft murmur of conversations – a tapestry of stories, laughter, and sometimes, comfortable silences. It was a place where time seemed to relent, where the city’s heartbeat slowed to match the rhythmic drip of coffee. The shop's large windows framed the bustling outside world, yet inside, they offered a serene vantage point, a quiet observer's haven.

Above all, it was the sense of belonging that made "The Jedi's Brew" enchanting. It was in the way the shop seemed to embrace each customer, in the unspoken understanding that here, amidst the steam and whispers, one could find a moment of peace, a piece of home. This small, unassuming coffee shop was not just a place; it was an experience, a sanctuary for the soul amidst the symphony of city life.

**** 

Commander Cody, the owner and barista of "The Jedi's Brew," was the lifeblood of the establishment, a man whose military precision was softened by the warmth of his smile. Clad in a crisp apron, his movements behind the counter were a study in efficiency – each turn, each press of the espresso machine, executed with the exactness of a well-rehearsed drill. Yet, his eyes sparkled with an amiable light, his voice carrying a tone that was both commanding and comforting.

The coffee shop was not just his business; it was his passion, a project born from the desire to create a space where warmth met quality, where every patron felt like a welcomed guest in his home. Cody’s brothers, Rex, Wolffe, Ponds, Fives, and Echo, were his comrades-in-arms in this endeavor, each bringing their unique personality to the mix, turning the coffee shop into a vibrant tapestry of brotherhood and camaraderie.

Their banter was a delightful undercurrent to the shop's atmosphere. Rex, with his quick wit, often sparred verbally with Wolffe, whose dry humor was as subtle as it was sharp. Ponds, the peacemaker, would interject with a diplomatic quip, while Fives and Echo, the youngest, injected a dose of youthful energy, their laughter ringing out like chimes.

Cody, the eldest, balanced his role as leader and brother with a natural ease. He guided with a gentle hand, his instructions to his brothers clear but kind. The respect they held for him was palpable, a testament to their shared past and unspoken bond forged through years of shared experiences, both in and out of the military.

As Cody interacted with his brothers, there was a sense of a well-oiled machine, a unit that functioned seamlessly, each brother an integral cog. Yet, beyond the efficiency, there was love – a deep, abiding affection that resonated in their jests, in the way they moved around each other, anticipating needs and gestures with the familiarity of a dance long practiced.

The customers, regulars and newcomers alike, were drawn not just to the quality of the coffee but to the energy of the brothers. They watched, often amused, as Echo playfully dodged a towel thrown by Fives, or as Rex shared a laugh with a customer over a shared love of classic literature, a topic he was surprisingly passionate about.

Cody’s interactions with his patrons were a blend of professionalism and personal touch. He remembered names and orders, asked about their days with genuine interest, and offered a smile that seemed to say, “You’re among friends here.” His leadership was not just in running the shop but in creating a space where everyone felt a sense of belonging.

In quieter moments, Cody’s gaze would sweep over his shop, a look of pride lighting up his features. This was more than a business; it was a manifestation of his dreams, a place where the rigor of his military life met the warmth of his desire to connect with people. He saw every cup of coffee not just as a product, but as an extension of himself, a gift of comfort to whoever held it.

The dynamic in "The Jedi's Brew" was a delicate balance between order and warmth, a reflection of Cody and his brothers – men who had seen much, served much, but had found their peace in the simple yet profound act of serving others, one cup at a time.

****

In the tranquil cocoon of "The Jedi's Brew," where the symphony of coffee aromas and hushed conversations wove a tapestry of calm, Obi-Wan Kenobi found his haven. He entered with the ease of a regular, his presence a familiar and comforting addition to the shop's ambiance. The bell above the door chimed softly, announcing his arrival, yet it was his serene aura that truly marked his entry.

Obi-Wan, clad in his usual attire of a tweed blazer – the elbows worn from years of leaning over countless books – and a neatly knotted scarf, moved with a quiet grace. His hair, peppered with silver, spoke of wisdom and a life dedicated to the pursuit of knowledge, while the gentle lines etched around his eyes told of years spent smiling at the wonders of the past.

He selected his usual spot, a secluded corner by the window, where the light was just right – not too harsh, not too dim – perfect for delving into the depths of ancient history. As he settled into his favored armchair, a sigh of contentment escaped him, a silent acknowledgment of the shop's embrace.

Around him, the soft murmur of the shop continued. Patrons, each absorbed in their own worlds, cast occasional glances towards the professor, their eyes reflecting a mix of curiosity and respect. To them, Obi-Wan was a figure of intrigue, a staple of the shop's tapestry, as much a part of its charm as the antique espresso machine.

With a gentle touch, Obi-Wan opened his book, an ancient tome on the civilizations of forgotten worlds. His eyes flickered with a spark of excitement, a flame that was ignited anew with each turn of the page. It was in these moments, lost in the echoes of bygone eras, that he felt most alive, his heart beating in tune with the rhythmic turning of pages.

The coffee arrived, brought to his table by a barista with a knowing smile – a silent exchange of pleasantries without the need for words. The cup, a simple white porcelain, was a vessel of warmth, both physical and metaphorical. Obi-Wan wrapped his hands around it, feeling the heat seep into his skin, a grounding reminder of the present.

As he sipped his coffee, his gaze occasionally wandered beyond the window, where the world rushed by in a blur of color and light. Yet, in his quiet corner, time seemed to stand still. He was a solitary island in the midst of life's relentless river, a thinker amidst the doers.

Obi-Wan's thoughts often drifted as he read. Today, they meandered to the parallels between the ancient tales he cherished and the modern world outside. He pondered on the cyclical nature of history, on the lessons that time had whispered but humankind had often ignored. In these musings, he found a bittersweet solace, an understanding of the world that both enlightened and burdened.

His solitude, however, was not loneliness. It was a chosen companionship with the past, a dialogue with the ages. And yet, the warmth of the coffee shop, with its soft hum of life, provided a gentle anchor to the present, a reminder that while he might roam the corridors of history in his mind, he belonged to the here and now.

In "The Jedi's Brew," Obi-Wan was not just another customer. He was a silent guardian of stories, a keeper of wisdom, nestled in his corner with his coffee and his books, a bridge between the past and the present.

*** 

In the harmonious realm of "The Jedi's Brew," the interactions between Obi-Wan and Commander Cody were like the subtle yet essential notes in a symphony, each adding depth and richness to the melody of the coffee shop's daily life.

One such morning, as the first light of dawn painted the city in hues of amber and gold, Obi-Wan, his eyes reflecting the tranquility of a man at peace with his solitude, approached the counter. Cody, already in the rhythm of his morning tasks, looked up and greeted him with a nod, the corners of his eyes crinkling in a smile that spoke of recognition and respect.

"Good morning, Professor," Cody said, his voice carrying the warmth of a seasoned host. "The usual, or are you feeling adventurous today?"

Obi-Wan, placing his worn leather satchel on the counter, returned the smile. "I think I'll stick with the usual, Cody. Although, your 'adventurous' blends have never disappointed."

As Cody prepared his coffee, the rich aroma filling the space between them, their conversation meandered effortlessly from the mundane to the meaningful. They spoke of the weather, the crispness of the autumn air, and how it reminded Obi-Wan of the changing leaves in the gardens of the university.

"The campus must look quite spectacular this time of year," Cody remarked, his hands working deftly to craft the perfect cup.

"It does," Obi-Wan replied, his eyes lighting up with the mention of his beloved university. "There's a certain magic in the air, a sense of anticipation as the students return. It's quite infectious."

Cody handed him his coffee, and their fingers brushed momentarily, a fleeting touch that seemed to linger in the air. "I can imagine," he said, a hint of curiosity in his tone. "You must have quite the collection of stories from your years there."

Obi-Wan, taking a sip of his coffee, savored not just the flavor but the connection the simple beverage represented. "Indeed, I do. And speaking of stories," he added, a playful glint in his eye, "I've just started a fascinating book on ancient galactic civilizations. I think it might be right up your alley."

Cody leaned in, intrigued. "Oh? Do tell."

As Obi-Wan delved into a brief synopsis of his latest read, his voice a melody of enthusiasm and knowledge, Cody listened intently, his expression a mix of admiration and genuine interest. Their conversation was a dance of words and expressions, a testament to the growing bond between them, one that transcended the usual customer-barista dynamic.

Around them, the coffee shop hummed with its morning routine, but in their shared space at the counter, time seemed to slow, allowing their exchange to unfold in its own sacred tempo. The other patrons, some regulars who had grown accustomed to the professor's presence, cast occasional glances their way, their expressions a blend of curiosity and fondness. To them, Obi-Wan and Cody's interactions were a part of the shop's charm, a human connection that added to the warmth of their favorite haven.

As their conversation drew to a close, with Cody promising to check out Obi-Wan's book recommendation, there was a lingering sense of unspoken words, of stories yet to be shared. Obi-Wan, with a final nod and a grateful smile, retreated to his corner, his coffee in hand, leaving Cody to his duties.

In that moment, as Obi-Wan settled into his chair and Cody returned to his work, there was a shared feeling of contentment, a silent acknowledgment of the unique camaraderie they had cultivated. It was a bond formed over cups of coffee and snippets of conversation, a gentle yet profound connection that was as much a part of "The Jedi's Brew" as the coffee itself.

*** 

As the days unfurled like the pages of a well-loved book, the walls of "The Jedi's Brew" bore witness to the subtly evolving tapestry of interactions between Obi-Wan Kenobi and Commander Cody. The coffee shop, with its symphony of aromas and the comforting cadence of familiar routines, had become a stage for a dance of quiet anticipation and unspoken interest.

The crisp morning air was always slightly sweeter on the days Obi-Wan planned to visit the coffee shop. His morning preparations, once a matter of routine, had taken on a new significance. He found himself selecting his tweed jacket and scarf with more care, his reflection in the mirror revealing a hint of expectancy in his eyes.

As he stepped into the coffee shop, the familiar chime of the bell above the door seemed to resonate with the rhythm of his heartbeat. The warm, inviting atmosphere enveloped him, but it was the sight of Cody, behind the counter, that anchored his senses. There was a newfound depth to the way their gazes met; a silent acknowledgement that lingered just a moment longer than necessary, bridging the distance between them.

"Good morning, Obi-Wan," Cody would greet, his voice a rich blend of warmth and professionalism. There was a light in his eyes, subtle yet unmistakable, that seemed to brighten just for Obi-Wan.

"And to you, Cody," Obi-Wan would respond, his voice carrying an undercurrent of joy he barely recognized in himself. Each visit, each exchange, was like a step closer in a dance he hadn't realized he'd been longing to partake in.

Their conversations began to meander beyond the realms of coffee and weather, delving into territories of personal interests and past experiences. Cody would share anecdotes from his military days, his words painting vivid images of camaraderie and adventure, while Obi-Wan listened, captivated, his historian's mind enthralled by the living history before him.

Likewise, Obi-Wan's tales of academic life, of the wonders and mysteries of ancient civilizations, seemed to fascinate Cody. He listened with rapt attention, his questions thoughtful, prompting Obi-Wan to reveal more of himself than he usually allowed.

As Obi-Wan sipped his coffee in his corner, he found his gaze drifting towards the counter more often than not. He observed Cody's interactions with others, noting the ease and respect with which he treated everyone, yet quietly yearning for the moments when Cody's attention would return to him. There was a warmth in those exchanges that seemed to reach beyond the confines of customer and barista, touching something deeper within.

Even the other patrons began to notice the subtle dance unfolding between the two. Regulars exchanged knowing smiles and fleeting glances, witnessing the growing connection that laced each conversation with an undercurrent of something more. The atmosphere in "The Jedi's Brew" seemed to thrum with the quiet energy of their budding connection, adding an intangible layer of anticipation to the air.

As the days turned to weeks, Obi-Wan's visits to the coffee shop became the highlights of his mornings. The anticipation of seeing Cody, of engaging in their increasingly personal exchanges, stirred a sense of excitement within him that he hadn't felt in years. It was as if each visit, each shared smile, was a piece of a puzzle he hadn't known he was assembling.

In these moments, in the unspoken language of lingering glances and extended conversations, the foundation of something new and uncertain was being laid. It was a connection that transcended the simplicity of coffee shop banter, hinting at the possibility of something deeper, something that neither Obi-Wan nor Cody had yet dared to define.

*** 

As autumn deepened, bringing with it a tapestry of russet and gold that draped the city, the days began to shorten, and the evenings at "The Jedi's Brew" stretched longer, more languid and introspective. It was on one such evening, when the sky was a canvas of twilight hues, that Obi-Wan found himself lingering in the coffee shop long after the evening rush had ebbed away.

The shop, usually abuzz with the symphony of daily life, had settled into a quiet lull, the murmurs of the few remaining patrons a soft undertone to the gentle clinking of cups and the subtle whir of the espresso machine. Obi-Wan, ensconced in his usual corner, was lost in a tome of ancient history, the words a gateway to worlds long past.

As the clock hands marched steadily onwards, the patrons trickled out, leaving Obi-Wan and a few solitary figures in their own pockets of quiet. Cody, having handed over the reins of closing to Rex for the night, approached Obi-Wan's table with a relaxed stride, a cup of freshly brewed coffee in hand.

"Thought you might need a refill," Cody said, placing the cup before Obi-Wan, his voice a comfortable melody in the quietude of the shop.

Obi-Wan looked up, his eyes reflecting a blend of surprise and warmth. "Thank you, Cody. I didn't realize how late it had gotten."

Cody pulled up a chair, an unspoken invitation hanging in the air. "Sometimes, a good book can make hours seem like minutes," he remarked, his gaze briefly flitting over the tome's ancient cover.

Obi-Wan's smile was soft, tinged with appreciation. "Indeed, it can. This one is about the Byzantine Empire. Fascinating period, full of intrigue and artistry."

Cody leaned forward, his interest piqued. "Byzantine, you say? I've always been intrigued by that era. The complexity of their politics, the depth of their culture."

The conversation that unfolded was a tapestry of shared interests and mutual discovery. Obi-Wan spoke of his passion for history, his words painting vivid pictures of empires risen and fallen, of the timeless dance of humanity through the ages. Cody, in turn, shared his own interests, revealing a surprising affinity for classical music, particularly the compositions that had echoed through the halls of history.

"The way music can transcend time and place, it's always fascinated me," Cody said, his eyes reflecting the glow of the shop's ambient lighting. "There's a piece by Beethoven, 'Moonlight Sonata,' that I find particularly moving."

Obi-Wan's expression softened, a gentle understanding lighting his features. "Ah, 'Moonlight Sonata,' a piece both haunting and beautiful. It's remarkable how music can capture the essence of an emotion, a moment in time."

As they spoke, the world outside the coffee shop seemed to recede, leaving only the shared space of their conversation, a bubble where past and present intertwined. The shop's soft lighting cast a golden glow around them, lending an almost ethereal quality to the moment.

Around them, the few remaining patrons began to depart, the gentle chime of the door marking their exits. The shop, now almost empty, felt like a sanctuary, a space where time stood still, allowing their words and thoughts to unfurl in a dance of discovery and connection.

As the conversation meandered from music to history, and then to the more personal realms of hopes and dreams, there was a sense of barriers slowly dissolving, of two souls tentatively exploring the landscape of shared understanding and unexpected kinship.

When the conversation finally waned, a comfortable silence settled between them, filled with unspoken thoughts and emotions. It was a silence that spoke of a newfound depth to their relationship, a connection that had transcended the boundaries of mere acquaintance.

In that quiet coffee shop, as the evening whispered its way towards night, Obi-Wan and Cody discovered a kinship that was as surprising as it was welcome. It was a moment of connection that hinted at the possibility of something more, a journey just beginning to unfold.

The evening in "The Jedi's Brew" had wrapped itself in a cloak of tranquility, the kind that only comes when the world slows down, and the moment at hand becomes everything. The conversation between Obi-Wan and Cody, rich with the exploration of shared passions and quiet revelations, had gradually wound down, leaving in its wake a profound sense of connection and a silent acknowledgment of something unspoken yet deeply felt.

Cody, with a glance at the clock, which now showed the hour growing late, reluctantly pushed his chair back, the sound softly echoing in the near-empty coffee shop. "I should get back to closing up," he said, his voice carrying a tinge of reluctance, as if he were stepping out of one world and back into another.

Obi-Wan nodded, a soft smile playing on his lips. "Of course. Thank you for the coffee... and the conversation."

As Cody stood and began to make his way back to the counter, there was a palpable shift in the air, a lingering sense of the words left unsaid, of the emotions that had been gently stirred in the quiet of the evening. The subtle glow of the shop's lights seemed to cast a spotlight on the space between them, highlighting the significance of the moment.

Obi-Wan watched Cody retreat, feeling an unfamiliar flutter in his chest, a mixture of anticipation and a newfound boldness. In a fleeting moment of courage, spurred by the night's revelations and the comfortable intimacy they had shared, he lifted his hand in a gentle, playful gesture, sending an air kiss towards Cody.

The action, simple yet laden with meaning, hung in the air like a delicate promise, a bridge between their two worlds. Cody, pausing in his steps, turned back to look at Obi-Wan, his expression one of surprise that quickly melted into a smile of genuine pleasure. His eyes, always so expressive, shone with a mix of amusement and a deeper, more tender emotion that had only just begun to surface.

In that smile, there was an acknowledgment of Obi-Wan's gesture, a silent acceptance that spoke volumes. It was a smile that seemed to say, "I see you, and I am here with you." Cody's response, though wordless, was as eloquent as any spoken reply, conveying an understanding and a shared sentiment that transcended the need for language.

The air kiss, a playful yet poignant symbol of their burgeoning connection, marked a turning point in their relationship. It was a step beyond the boundaries of friendship, a toe dipped into the waters of something deeper, something that held the promise of new possibilities.

As Cody resumed his path to the counter, there was a new spring in his step, a lightness that mirrored Obi-Wan's own uplifted spirit. The professor, still seated, allowed himself a moment to bask in the afterglow of their exchange, his heart quietly singing with a joy he hadn't felt in years.

The coffee shop, now steeped in the silence of the approaching night, stood as a witness to the birth of something beautiful, something tentative yet filled with potential. In the quiet exchange of an air kiss, Obi-Wan and Cody had opened a door to a new chapter in their story, a chapter that was yet to be written but promised to be as rich and fulfilling as the aromatic brews of "The Jedi's Brew."

**** 

In the ensuing days, a subtle yet undeniable change permeated the atmosphere of "The Jedi's Brew." Each interaction between Obi-Wan and Cody, once a casual exchange between patron and barista, now thrummed with a current of unspoken feelings, a silent language understood only by the two of them.

The mornings brought with them a heightened sense of anticipation. For Obi-Wan, the walk to the coffee shop became a journey filled with an eager expectancy, each step bringing him closer to the now-familiar figure behind the counter. His thoughts, once occupied with the day's lectures and academic pursuits, increasingly found their way to Cody – to his smile, his laughter, and the stories yet untold.

Cody, in turn, found himself watching the door more frequently, awaiting Obi-Wan's arrival with an eagerness he had not known before. The sight of the professor, with his scholarly air and thoughtful eyes, became the highlight of his mornings, a moment that set the tone for the rest of his day.

Their conversations, once confined to the realms of coffee and weather, now ventured into deeper territories. Obi-Wan, with a cup of his favorite blend in hand, would often linger at the counter, speaking of his lectures with a passion that was both infectious and endearing.

"Just yesterday, I spoke about the Roman Empire's architectural marvels," Obi-Wan shared one morning, his eyes alight with the fervor of his subject. "It's fascinating to think how their engineering feats still influence us today."

Cody listened, genuinely captivated, leaning in slightly as if each word were a treasure. "I've always admired the way you historians can bring the past to life," he said. "Makes me wish I'd paid more attention in history class."

Their laughter mingled, a shared melody that added warmth to the shop's cozy ambiance.

As the days unfolded, Cody began sharing more of his own experiences. He spoke of his military days, not of the battles and hardships, but of the camaraderie, the places he had seen, and the lessons he had learned. His stories were a tapestry of adventure and resilience, each one revealing a new facet of his character.

"I remember this one time in the desert," Cody recounted, a reflective note in his voice. "The stars were so bright, it felt like we could reach out and touch them. Made us feel small, yet part of something vast and timeless."

Obi-Wan, listening intently, felt a connection to Cody's experiences, a resonance with his own explorations of the past's grand tapestries. Their conversations became a bridge between two worlds – the academic and the practical, the historical and the contemporary.

Around them, the regular patrons of "The Jedi's Brew" began to notice the subtle shift in Obi-Wan and Cody's interactions. There was a new depth to their exchanges, a tenderness that was palpable even in the most mundane conversations. Their laughter seemed richer, their silences more comfortable, and their glances more lingering.

In these moments of shared stories and mutual understanding, the unspoken feelings between them grew stronger, an undercurrent that neither could ignore. It was as if each word, each glance, and each shared smile were threads in a tapestry they were weaving together, a tapestry rich with potential and unexplored possibilities.

As the line between patron and barista blurred, a friendship deepened, blossoming into something that held the promise of more. In the quiet haven of the coffee shop, amidst the aroma of coffee and the soft murmur of conversations, Obi-Wan and Cody were embarking on a journey of discovery, one that was as much about understanding each other as it was about understanding themselves.

**** 

As the days gently folded into weeks, the walls of "The Jedi's Brew" became the silent custodians of a deepening bond between Obi-Wan and Cody, a bond woven from the threads of shared stories, lingering looks, and a burgeoning understanding that whispered of something more profound.

The crisp mornings saw Obi-Wan, his steps now imbued with a lightness, entering the coffee shop with a sense of anticipation that fluttered like a delicate leaf in the wind. The sight of Cody, his posture a blend of strength and ease behind the counter, became a beacon, drawing Obi-Wan into their shared world of quiet connection.

Their conversations, once a pleasant exchange of academic and military anecdotes, began to traverse the more personal landscapes of their lives. It was during one such morning, as the shop hummed with its usual rhythm of brewing coffee and hushed conversations, that Obi-Wan found himself opening up about his family.

"My family is scattered across the globe," Obi-Wan shared, a wistful note threading through his words. "We don't see each other often. It's mainly emails and the occasional call."

Cody, polishing a coffee cup, paused to look at Obi-Wan, his expression a soft canvas of empathy. "That must be tough," he said gently.

Obi-Wan nodded, a small, reflective smile touching his lips. "It is, at times. But I've found a family of sorts in my colleagues. Plo and Mace, they're more than just fellow professors. They've been my pillars, in a way."

Cody listened, his eyes reflecting the depth of his understanding. "I get that. Sometimes, family isn't just about blood. It's about the bonds we build along the way."

Encouraged by Cody's response, Obi-Wan ventured further, sharing anecdotes about Plo's wisdom and Mace's unwavering support, their personalities painting a picture of a familial bond formed within the hallowed halls of academia.

As the conversation flowed, Cody began to share more about his own family, his voice carrying a mixture of pride and affection. "I have a large family. My brothers and I, we've always been close, but Rex... he's more than a brother. We've been through a lot together, both in and out of the military."

The stories Cody shared about Rex and his other brothers were a vibrant tapestry of laughter, loyalty, and shared experiences. Each tale, whether it was about a childhood prank or a challenging time in the service, was infused with a sense of closeness and profound connection.

Obi-Wan, listening intently, felt a warmth spreading through him, a feeling of being privy to the sacred territory of Cody's personal life. The realization that they were sharing pieces of their worlds, pieces that were not often brought to light, added a new layer of intimacy to their growing friendship.

Their exchanges, rich with the nuances of shared understanding and empathy, began to carry an electric charge of unspoken emotions. The air between them seemed to thrum with the vibrancy of their connection, an invisible thread drawing them closer with each shared story, each knowing glance.

In these moments, as they delved into the realms of family and personal connections, the rest of the coffee shop seemed to fade into a soft blur. The world outside the windows of "The Jedi's Brew" continued its relentless march, but within the warm confines of the shop, time seemed to slow, allowing their bond to flourish in the rich soil of shared experiences and mutual understanding.

Their journey, which had begun as a series of casual interactions, was now evolving into something deeper, a path lined with the potential of unexplored emotions and the promise of a connection that transcended the ordinary. In the quiet sanctuary of the coffee shop, Obi-Wan and Cody were not just a professor and a barista; they were two souls, gradually unveiling the layers of their lives, discovering the profound joy of a connection that was as unexpected as it was welcome.

**** 

As autumn relinquished its hold to the brisk embrace of winter, the bond between Obi-Wan and Cody continued to flourish, nurtured by their daily interactions at "The Jedi's Brew." It was during this season of change that an opportunity arose for their connection to deepen further, bridging the gap between the coffee shop and the outside world.

One crisp morning, as Obi-Wan lingered over his coffee, he mentioned to Cody about an upcoming public lecture he was giving at the university. "It's on the socio-political impact of trade routes in ancient civilizations," he explained, his eyes alight with the passion he felt for his subject.

Cody, wiping down the counter, looked up with genuine interest. "That sounds fascinating, Obi-Wan. I'd love to come and listen if that's alright with you."

Obi-Wan's expression, initially one of mild surprise, quickly transformed into one of pleased delight. "I would be honored to have you there, Cody. It's this Thursday evening in the main auditorium."

The exchange marked a significant moment, a step beyond the familiar confines of the coffee shop, into a realm that was distinctly part of Obi-Wan's world.

On the evening of the lecture, as the auditorium filled with the hum of anticipation, Obi-Wan stood backstage, feeling an unfamiliar flutter of nerves. His lectures were always well-received, but tonight was different. Tonight, Cody would be in the audience. The thought brought both excitement and a hint of vulnerability.

As he stepped onto the stage, the bright lights and sea of faces momentarily disoriented him. He adjusted his glasses, cleared his throat, and began to speak, his voice steady and clear. As he delved into the complexities of ancient trade and its far-reaching impacts, he scanned the audience, searching for a familiar face.

There, in the fourth row, sat Cody. His posture was one of attentive interest, his eyes fixed on Obi-Wan. The sight of him, present in Obi-Wan's academic world, was both heartening and deeply significant. It was a gesture of support and interest that transcended their morning conversations over coffee.

Throughout the lecture, Obi-Wan found himself speaking not just to the audience, but to Cody. Each point he made, each insight he shared, felt like part of a conversation with him. Cody's presence, a solitary but significant thread, wove through his words, adding depth and meaning to the lecture.

After the applause had died down and the audience began to disperse, Cody made his way to the front. His approach was tentative, respectful of the academic setting, yet his smile was as warm and familiar as it was in the coffee shop.

"That was incredible, Obi-Wan," Cody said, his voice carrying a note of admiration. "I had no idea how intricate those trade networks were. It really opens up a new perspective on how interconnected our world is."

Obi-Wan, his initial nervousness replaced by a glow of satisfaction, responded, "Thank you, Cody. I'm really glad you could be here. It means a lot to me."

Their conversation flowed effortlessly, touching on various points from the lecture, then meandering to other topics. It was a continuation of the many talks they had shared, yet imbued with a new sense of closeness.

As they walked out of the auditorium together, the crisp night air greeting them, there was a palpable sense of a boundary having been crossed, of their relationship evolving into something richer. The evening was not just about sharing knowledge; it was a sharing of selves, a mutual exploration of interests and worlds.

In attending Obi-Wan's lecture, Cody had not only shown his respect and support for Obi-Wan's passion but had also opened a door to a deeper understanding of the man behind the professor. Likewise, Obi-Wan had welcomed Cody into a part of his life that was deeply important to him, a gesture of trust and connection.

As they said their goodnights, with a promise to talk more over coffee the next morning, there was a sense of unspoken agreement that they were no longer just acquaintances who enjoyed conversation. They were two individuals, each stepping into the other's world, discovering the joy and depth of a connection that was growing more profound with each passing day.

*** 

The following morning, the ambiance of "The Jedi's Brew" was suffused with its usual blend of warmth and the rich aroma of coffee. However, a subtle shift in the dynamics could be felt, particularly around the counter where Cody and his brothers were engaged in their morning routines.

Cody, lost in thought as he methodically prepared a batch of their signature blend, was jolted back to the present by Rex's teasing voice. "So, brother, how was the evening with the professor?" Rex asked, a playful glint in his eye, as he arranged the freshly baked pastries in the display case.

Cody's cheeks took on a hint of color, a rare show of bashfulness from the usually composed barista. "It was an enlightening lecture," he replied, trying to maintain a nonchalant tone as he focused on the coffee grinder.

Wolffe, overhearing the exchange, joined in with a knowing smile. "Enlightening, huh? I noticed you got back later than usual. You must have been very... enlightened."

The light-hearted ribbing continued, with Fives and Echo chiming in, their voices tinged with amusement and affection. "Maybe we should all attend these lectures if they're that interesting," Echo suggested, his laughter mixing with the clinking of the coffee cups he was setting up.

Cody, while trying to fend off their comments with good-natured retorts, couldn't help but feel a warmth at their teasing. It was a sign of his brothers' care and interest in his life, even if expressed through their characteristic banter.

Amidst the laughter and playful remarks, there was an unspoken acknowledgment of the change they had seen in Cody. His frequent glances towards the door, the softening of his expression when he spoke of Obi-Wan's lectures, and the lingering smiles that followed their conversations – all had not gone unnoticed by his observant brothers.

Ponds, who had been quietly setting up the register, added his thoughts in a more reflective tone. "It's good to see you like this, Cody. It's been a while since someone's caught your interest so much."

The comment, though gentle, struck a chord. Cody paused, a moment of introspection crossing his features. It was true; the connection he felt with Obi-Wan was something he hadn't experienced in a long time. It was more than just admiration for the professor's intellect; it was a deep-seated interest in the man himself, his thoughts, his stories, his very essence.

As the morning rush began, with customers trickling in and the usual buzz of activity enveloping the shop, Cody found himself eagerly anticipating Obi-Wan's arrival. The prospect of their morning conversation, a ritual that had become the highlight of his day, filled him with a sense of excitement that he hadn't felt in years.

The teasing from his brothers, though playful, had shed light on the depth of his fascination with Obi-Wan. It was a realization that was both exhilarating and daunting. As he prepared each cup of coffee, his mind wandered, replaying their conversations, their shared moments, and the subtle yet undeniable connection that had been forming between them.

In the sanctuary of "The Jedi's Brew," amidst the laughter of his brothers and the warmth of the coffee shop, Cody's feelings for Obi-Wan continued to bloom, a gentle yet persistent force that promised to shape the path of his heart in ways he had yet to fully understand.

*** 

The evening of the university event arrived with a flurry of excitement and anticipation, transforming the usually serene campus into a hub of bustling activity. "The Jedi's Brew" had been chosen to cater the event, a testament to its growing reputation in the city. The coffee shop's team, led by Cody and his brothers, arrived early, laden with equipment and supplies, ready to infuse the event with their signature warmth and quality.

The venue, a grand hall adorned with historic art and elegant decor, buzzed with the chatter of attendees, a mix of professors, students, and guests, all mingling in the sophisticated setting. Amidst this backdrop, Cody and his team set up their station, a beacon of rich aromas and inviting warmth in the corner of the hall.

Obi-Wan, as one of the hosts, was engaged in a whirlwind of greetings and conversations, his role as a professor bringing with it a host of responsibilities and expectations. Despite the demands of the evening, his gaze frequently wandered to the coffee station, seeking out the familiar figure of Cody.

Cody, donning his apron and a professional yet warm demeanor, was the picture of efficiency as he and his brothers served the guests. His movements were a blend of practiced skill and inherent grace, each interaction with attendees marked by his characteristic charm and ease.

Throughout the evening, amidst the serving of coffee and the exchange of pleasantries, Cody's eyes would find Obi-Wan's across the room. These stolen glances, brief yet laden with meaning, were their silent conversations amidst the din of the event. Each eye contact was a shared moment, a subtle smile passing between them, a quiet acknowledgment of the connection they shared.

Obi-Wan, for his part, felt a thrum of excitement each time their gazes met. The event, with all its formalities and duties, faded into the background during these moments, giving way to the unspoken bond he shared with Cody. His heart would skip a beat, a sensation both exhilarating and comforting, as he allowed himself these brief instances of connection.

Cody, in turn, felt a similar rush of emotions. Each glance from Obi-Wan, each subtle smile, was a reassurance, a tether that connected him to the professor despite the night's busyness. It was a reminder of their growing relationship, a promise of conversations yet to be had and moments yet to be shared.

As the evening wore on, the initial buzz of activity gradually subsided, giving way to a more relaxed atmosphere. The guests began to dwindle, leaving the hall in a state of quiet repose. Cody and his brothers started the process of packing up, their movements slower now, tinged with the fatigue of the night's work.

Obi-Wan, seizing the opportunity as the crowd thinned, made his way over to Cody. "You've outdone yourself tonight," he said, his voice a soft blend of gratitude and admiration.

Cody, wiping down the counter, looked up with a tired yet satisfied smile. "It was our pleasure, Obi-Wan. I'm just glad everything went smoothly."

Their conversation, brief due to the lingering guests and the task of cleaning up, was nonetheless rich with the undercurrent of their shared experience. They spoke of the night, of the success of the event, but their words carried a deeper significance, a recognition of the effort and care they had both invested in the evening.

As they said their goodbyes, with promises of catching up soon at the coffee shop, there was a mutual feeling of contentment, a sense of accomplishment not just in the success of the event, but in the strength of the connection they had maintained throughout the busy evening.

The university event, a convergence of their professional and personal worlds, had been another step in the unfolding journey of their relationship. In the midst of their duties and responsibilities, they had found moments of connection, subtle yet profound, that continued to draw them closer, weaving the fabric of their bond ever tighter.

As the event at the university gradually wound down, the grand hall, once aflutter with voices and movement, settled into a quieter rhythm. The remaining guests drifted towards the exits, their conversations fading into soft echoes that danced off the high ceilings and ornate walls. In the coffee-serving area, Obi-Wan and Cody found themselves in a pocket of calm, a serene bubble amidst the remnants of the bustling evening.

The area, now devoid of guests, was bathed in the soft glow of the overhead lights, casting gentle shadows that played on their faces. The air was still rich with the scent of coffee, a comforting reminder of "The Jedi's Brew" and the many mornings they had shared there.

Cody, who had been methodically cleaning up, paused as he realized they were alone. He looked up at Obi-Wan, standing across the counter, and in that quiet moment, the weight of their unspoken feelings seemed to fill the space between them.

Obi-Wan, leaning slightly on the counter, broke the silence, his voice carrying a depth of emotion that had been carefully restrained. "Cody, these past weeks, our conversations, the time we've spent together... they've come to mean a great deal to me."

Cody, placing the cloth down, met Obi-Wan's gaze with an intensity that mirrored his own. "I feel the same, Obi-Wan. There's something between us, more than just friendship. I've felt it for a while now."

The words, spoken aloud, hung in the air, a tangible admission of the connection they had both been nurturing. The atmosphere, charged with the potential of what lay unexplored between them, seemed to hold its breath.

Obi-Wan, his heart beating a rhythm of hopeful trepidation, continued, "I've found myself looking forward to our mornings together more than I would have expected. There's a... a compatibility, a shared understanding that I haven't found often."

Cody, his usual composure softened by the sincerity of the moment, nodded. "It's rare to find someone who understands you, who connects with you on so many levels. I didn't expect it, but I'm grateful for it, for you."

Their words were a dance of honesty and vulnerability, a delicate exploration of the feelings that had been quietly growing. In the empty coffee-serving area, surrounded by the remnants of the event, they allowed themselves to delve into the heart of their relationship.

"I don't know where this might lead, Cody, but I'm open to finding out, if you are," Obi-Wan said, a note of cautious optimism threading through his words.

Cody, reaching across the counter, briefly clasped Obi-Wan's hand, a gesture laden with meaning. "I am. Whatever this is, whatever it could be, I want to explore it with you."

Their hands parted, but the connection remained, a silent pact sealed in the quiet of the university hall. As they continued to talk, their conversation meandering through hopes and uncertainties, the potential of what lay ahead, they were both acutely aware of the significance of this moment.

The event had ended, but for Obi-Wan and Cody, it was the beginning of a new chapter, one filled with the promise of discovery and the potential of a relationship that had blossomed from shared morning coffees into something deeper, something profound. In the tranquility of the coffee-serving area, they had taken the first tentative steps towards exploring the depth of their connection, embarking on a journey guided by the heart and the quiet promise of a shared future.

In the stillness of the university hall, now empty of all but echoes and shadows, Obi-Wan and Cody lingered in the cocoon of their newfound understanding. The air around them was charged with the electricity of uncharted possibilities, each word they exchanged a step into a future they were now choosing to explore together.

Cody, leaning against the counter, his posture relaxed yet filled with an anticipatory energy, broke the comfortable silence that had settled between them. "I've always been an early riser, you know, because of the shop. But these past weeks, it's been about more than just coffee. It's been about... us."

Obi-Wan, standing across from him, felt a smile tug at the corners of his mouth, his heart swelling with a mixture of excitement and a deep, resonant affection. "I've felt the same. Our morning conversations have become the highlight of my day. It's not just the coffee or the history, it's the connection... with you."

Their eyes met, holding each other in a gaze that spoke volumes, communicating the depth of their feelings more eloquently than words ever could. The connection that had blossomed in the familiar confines of "The Jedi's Brew" was now ready to grow beyond those walls.

"I'd like that," Cody said, his voice a soft but firm declaration of his intentions. "To explore what's between us, to see where this path leads."

Obi-Wan's response was immediate, a reflection of his own desire to delve deeper into the bond they had formed. "I would like that very much. There's so much more I want to know about you, so many more conversations I want to have."

The conversation that followed was a gentle weaving of tentative plans and hopeful aspirations. They spoke of simple things – a walk in the park, a visit to a museum, perhaps a meal at a quiet restaurant. Each suggestion was a promise, a commitment to taking the time to understand each other outside the routine of their morning encounters.

As they finalized their plans for their first official outing, a sense of contentment settled over them. It was the kind of contentment that comes from knowing you're on the cusp of something wonderful, something that fills you with both anticipation and a deep sense of rightness.

The evening drew to a close, and as they prepared to part ways, there was a reluctance to end the moment, a desire to linger in the magic of their shared understanding. They exchanged a final, lingering look, a silent promise of all that was to come.

"Goodnight, Cody. I'll see you tomorrow," Obi-Wan said, his voice low and imbued with a warmth that hadn't been there before.

"Goodnight, Obi-Wan. I'm looking forward to it," Cody replied, his smile a reflection of the joy and anticipation that echoed in his heart.

As they walked away from the hall, each to their own thoughts and dreams, the night seemed to embrace them, a witness to the beginning of their journey together. The promise of future dates and shared moments hung in the air, a sweet melody that would carry them forward into a future filled with possibility and the warmth of a connection that had grown from shared cups of coffee into something deeper, something real. In the quiet aftermath of the university event, they had opened the door to exploring their relationship, stepping into a world of shared experiences and moments yet to be cherished.

**** 

The days following the university event were imbued with a new energy at "The Jedi's Brew." For Obi-Wan and Cody, each interaction was now tinged with the unspoken excitement of their burgeoning relationship. The coffee shop, once a place of casual encounters, had transformed into a space where every glance and conversation was laden with deeper meaning.

It was on a particularly serene evening, when the coffee shop hummed with the soft chatter of the day's last customers, that a new chapter in their story began to unfold. The sky outside was painted in strokes of twilight, the city winding down as the night approached.

As the clock neared closing time, the patrons gradually trickled out, leaving Obi-Wan and Cody in the quiet company of the now empty shop. The air was filled with the lingering aroma of coffee, a comforting backdrop to the significant moment that was about to unfold.

Cody, tidying up behind the counter, cast a glance towards Obi-Wan, who was gathering his belongings. "Would you like to help me lock up?" he asked, a hint of hopeful anticipation in his voice.

Obi-Wan, sensing the significance of the request, nodded with a soft smile. "I'd like that."

Together, they moved through the familiar motions of closing the shop. Cody turned off the espresso machine, its hiss and gurgle giving way to silence. Obi-Wan helped by wiping down the tables, his movements deliberate, a quiet reverence in the simple act of caring for the space that had brought them together.

As they worked, their conversation flowed naturally, touching on the events of the day, their plans for their upcoming date, and the quiet contentment they found in each other's company. The ease between them was a testament to the depth of their connection, a bond that had been strengthened in the shared moments within these walls.

With the last table cleaned and the chairs neatly tucked away, Cody and Obi-Wan made their way to the front door. Cody reached for the key, a simple metal piece that suddenly seemed to hold more weight than usual. He inserted it into the lock, turning it with a decisive click that marked the end of the day's business.

The action, simple yet symbolic, felt like a metaphor for the beginning of their journey together – a journey that was being locked into place, a path they were choosing to walk side by side.

As they stood there, the key still in the lock, they turned to face each other. The soft glow of the streetlights outside filtered through the windows, casting a gentle light that framed their faces.

"Thank you for helping me close up," Cody said, his voice low and sincere.

"It was my pleasure," Obi-Wan replied, his eyes holding Cody's gaze. "It feels different, locking up the shop with you. It feels... right."

In that moment, with the quiet of the shop surrounding them, a profound sense of connection enveloped them. They were on the threshold of something new, a journey that was theirs to explore, filled with the promise of shared experiences and discoveries.

Cody reached out, his hand gently brushing Obi-Wan's. It was a tender gesture, charged with the emotion of the moment. "I'm looking forward to this journey with you, Obi-Wan. To finding out where this path leads us."

Obi-Wan's hand clasped Cody's, a firm yet gentle affirmation of their mutual feelings. "As am I, Cody. As am I."

With a final, lingering look, they stepped out of the shop, locking the door behind them. The night embraced them, a quiet witness to the beginning of their journey together. The shop, now dark and still, stood as a testament to their story, a story that was just beginning to be written under the watchful eyes of the stars above.

**** 

As Obi-Wan walked home, the cool night air brushed against his face, carrying with it the whispers of the city as it settled into slumber. His steps were unhurried, echoing softly on the pavement, each one a testament to the profound sense of contentment that filled him. In his mind, the events of the evening replayed like a cherished melody, each note resonating with the warmth of newfound hope.

He thought of the coffee shop, now silent and dark, but vibrant with the memories they had created within its walls. He thought of Cody, of the way his smile had the power to stir something deep within him, of the ease and sincerity in his voice, and of the gentle strength in his hands. The memory of their shared moment locking up the shop lingered at the forefront of his mind, a symbol of the journey they had just embarked upon together.

The air kiss, a simple yet profound gesture, danced in his thoughts, a delicate symbol of their budding relationship. It was a moment that encapsulated the beauty of what was developing between them – a connection that was as surprising as it was deeply right. The memory of it brought a gentle smile to Obi-Wan's lips, a smile that spoke of the joy and anticipation for what lay ahead.

With each step, Obi-Wan felt a growing sense of peace. The uncertainties of the future, which had once loomed large, now seemed manageable, even welcome, as long as he and Cody faced them together. He felt a renewed sense of purpose, a desire to explore this new chapter of his life with the same passion and dedication he applied to his academic pursuits.

As he reached his home and turned the key in the lock, he paused for a moment, taking a deep breath of the night air. He felt grounded, connected to the present in a way he hadn't been before. The evening had not just marked the closing of the coffee shop; it had signified the opening of a new door in his life, one filled with the promise of shared laughter, conversations, and the warmth of a connection that had grown from a simple daily routine into something truly extraordinary.

Obi-Wan stepped inside, the warmth of his home enveloping him. As he prepared for bed, the thought of seeing Cody the next morning filled him with a quiet joy. He drifted off to sleep with a heart full of hope, the memory of the evening's air kiss a gentle reminder of the beautiful journey that lay ahead.

Thank you for joining me on this journey with Obi-Wan and Cody. If you enjoyed their story, your comments and likes are always greatly appreciated.

#Modern AU #Coffee Shop AU #Obi-Wan Kenobi/Cody #Slow Burn #Developing Relationship #Fluff #Light Angst #University Setting #Emotional #Mutual Pining #First Dates #Comfort #Canon-Typical Language #No Major Character Death #No Graphic Violence #obi wan kenobi #commander cody #codywanbingo #commander cody fanfiction #obi wan kenobi x commander cody #obi wan fanfiction #star wars fanfiction #star wars fandom

[reinamycloud]

Title/Author: A Long Kiss Goodnight by Reinamy (~21.8K) [Complete]

Fandom/Pairing: Hey Arnold, pre-Helga/Arnold

Rating: Teen (heed tags)

Summary: Arnold doesn't expect to die at the age of thirteen.

#hey arnold #shortaki #shortaki fic #the way this was supposed to be a oneshot #and the way I’m already thinking of a sequel #sighs #my fic #no major character death #❤️

[cherryatombomb]

i am holding out my hands i need all of your soapghost fic recs!!! feel free to rec ur own too i simply need to read more wooh

#my only things #no major character death #no hurt no comfort #other then that go wild #aus? #canon divergence? #all of it #i require it all #call of duty #soapghost

[jensen-frackles]

supernatural is one of the only fandoms I can read like really trope-y au’s for because it’s already so crazy that I just wanna see them in normal situations

#LOVE meet cute destiel shit #like coffee shop/bookshop aus #single dad aus #biker/mechanic aus #just normal everyday run of the mill shit you know #no major character death #but some angst #lots of smoochin #ya feel me? #spn #supernatural #castiel #cas #dean winchester #destiel

[meruz]

i watched kore-eda's recent film Monster this past week and i truly.. cannot stop thinking about it. maybe my favorite kore-eda film yet

#the subject matter is also just very My Shit so im.. im so biased #monster 2023 #meruzart #i want to encourage ppl to watch this but also cw for child abuse and implied major character death lots of thriller type stuff... #be wary if ur sensitive to stuff like that

[twilicidity]

#bungou stray dogs #bungou #chuuya nakahara #bsd chuuya #dazai osamu #skk #bsd dazai #bsd skk #soukoku #dazai x chuuya #bsd #bsd beast #beast dazai #bungou stray dogs beast #beast chuuya #beast skk #major character death #angst

[baskeigh-ball]

Went and hurt my own feelings with this one, oops

I never planned on making fanart for @somerandomdudelmao's series but I recently made a connection between it and that one tweet that permanently altered my brain chemistry so I couldn't NOT make something

#the only reason i can stomach this future au is because its going to turn out okay #any other time my mental fortitiude is out the window #major character death is my kryptonite #rottmnt #cass apocalyptic series #rottmnt fanart #rottmnt mikey #rottmnt donnie #rottmnt leo #rottmnt raph #my art

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

I'm a doctor, not a miracle worker.

[First] Prev <–-> Next

#poorly drawn mdzs #mdzs #wen ning #wei wuxian #wen qing #jiang cheng #Truly Massive disclaimer here: I am a Jiang Cheng enjoyer. I like his character. I enjoy that he is very flawed and volatile. #This episode of the audio drama has a lot of great breakdown scenes featuring JC - and they all deserve a feature. #But underlying this comic is a small meta comment of 'ah man I have too many comics of JC just wailing sadly' #My goal is to draw 6-8 comics per episode - I sometimes have to truncate and cut good scenes out. #Especially when a large majority is just different flavours of trauma and toxic relationships to your self-worth. #I would also like to make a note here that just because you lose the ability to do something that is very tied to your core identity- #-does not mean your life is over. It will feel like the end of the world. It will send you into a spiral of grief. It will hurt so badly. #Sometimes we do not realize how tied up our identities can be in certain things until we are cut loose. #You don't lose yourself. I promise the pain will fade in time. I promise you will find other things to tether you. I promise you will be ok #Life moves forwards. Time moves forwards. You move forwards. #Ego death just means an opportunity for ego rebirth. You are never committed to being the same person forever. #To wrap this around to JC: Yeah I love the twist with the core transfer but man I would have loved to see JC accept the loss. #Obviously it happens for a reason (story) but I can have my AUs. I can have these 'what-ifs'. #described in alt text #I'm trying it out! *please* give me feedback - I want to eventually Add image ID to all of these comics one day

[la-sera]

"burn my body"

Hyrule dies in his Hyrule. The monsters managed to sacrifice him to resurrect Ganon.

Legend wants to grant Hyrule's last wish: burn my body.

#linked universe #link #zelda #lu legend #lu hyrule #downfall duo #major character death

[pianokantzart]

Page 1 // ...... // Page 63 // Page 64 // Page 65 & 66 // …

#my art #tippi #mario #luigi #super mario bros #super mario brothers #super paper mario #death cw #major character death

[stevesbipanic]

Steve's only 25 when it all catches up to him.

It starts off small, things people wouldn't even be able to tell is an early sign of something wrong. Misplacing keys, forgetting which day he has his shifts, what time he's supposed to get Robin. Robin notices though.

Robin knows Steve always keeps his keys on the hook next to Eddie's by the front door, that's where he always finds them, he's not misplacing the keys, he's forgetting the hook exists.

Robin knows Steve has the same shifts every week, they never change because they line up with Eddie's at the record store nearby. Robin knows Steve isn't forgetting what time he's supposed to pick Robin up, he's forgetting Robin moved away a few months ago after she graduated college.

Robin keeps noticing when the kids start calling her because the little things are becoming big things.

Robin notices when Dustin calls and tells her Steve thought he and Suzie were back together, "Like how crazy is that we broke up two years ago, I don't think I've even mentioned her lately."

Robin notices when Lucas calls and tells her Steve asked when his next game was, "The season ended months ago, he came to the finals."

Robin notices when Max calls and whispers softly, "He asked to take me to the skatepark, Robin, I told him I had to help mum. He's forgotten I'm blind Robin."

Robin wished she'd noticed sooner, maybe years ago when Steve was getting knocked around a lot. She wished she'd screamed in the face of those Russians to take her instead. She wished a lot of things when Eddie called her.

"He's in hospital, Birdie, he collapsed at work."

Robin is back in Chicago for the first time since she graduated. She wished she'd visited sooner.

"Do you think the feds are gonna let me go soon, Robbie? I mean it usually doesn't take this long for them to bring me the NDAs."

Robin hopes Steve doesn't notice her eyes going glossy as she runs her fingers through his hair, "Don't worry Stevie, I'm sure they'll be in soon, Dusty is probs just arguing over something in his."

"At least he isn't having to explain he raised a demodog. Did I ever tell you about that Robbie?"

Robin smiles softly, "Yeah but tell me again, don't want to forget any of it."

Eddie gives Robin the gist of what the doctors said, Eddie didn't understand much, a lot of technical words and shit. Too many concussions, more than they knew about most likely. They say it'll probably get worse with no timeframe of how quickly it'll happen, there might be good days, there will be a lot of bad days.

The first bad day comes a week later. Steve barely remembers Eddie, trapped in a time when Eddie was just the kids DM. Eddie sobs in the corridor in Robin's arms. The next day it's like nothing happened and Steve gets discharged. They tell Steve, this time Eddie is the one to comfort him.

"I don't want to forget you Eds."

"It's okay if you do, sweetheart, I'll still be here."

It's Robins idea to start writing everything down. Eddie, Nancy and the kids all help. Filling journals upon journals of stories and pictures of Steve's life to help on the bad days. Steve has to quit his job, Robin moves back to Chicago, they make it work.

On bad days depending on how far back Steve is Dustin or Robin or Eddie will read through the books with him, filling in the gaps of what he needs. On the worst days, Eddie leaves the pile of journals on the bed with a note and waits downstairs to see if Steve will join him later.

They make it work for a few years. Steve celebrates his 30th birthday with perfect clarity. He writes himself an entry in the journal next to a big group picture with Steve and Eddie's matching rings showing.

That July, over a decade since Starcourt, Steve is in hospital again. He'd collapsed at breakfast. Eddie had thought it was going to be one of their good days, Steve had woken up fine, all his memories in tact if a little fuzzy. He'd made them coffee and giggled at Eddie's singing while he made them eggs and just like that it all came crashing down.

Steve's brain is shutting down. They don't know if he'll make it past Christmas. There's more bad days after that. More days with books left on the bed. Most days Steve doesn't even come downstairs. On the good days, Eddie always calls off work. He'd rather be fired than miss a single second of Steve smiling at him like he does, so full of love.

They have Christmas, the whole family comes, they have to bring every chair from around the house and squish in around the table just to fit but it's perfect. Steve sits between Robin and Eddie, face bright and full of love and life. Everyone gives him the tightest hug as the night closes, all lingering, afraid of letting go.

"I love you, dingus."

"I love you too, Robbie."

Later, upstairs in their room, Steve and Eddie go through all the journals, laughing softly at each little note the kids have left. Steve writes his little journal entry, a tradition of good days, and curls into Eddie's arm whispering soft loving words to each other before falling asleep.

Steve never wakes up.

The funeral happens shortly after, all of the family is still in town. Robin holds Eddie afterwards as they go through the journals together. When they get to the last page, they struggle not to smudge the ink with their tears.

Dear Eds and Robbie,

I don't know how many more good days I'm going to get so I'm leaving this here for you now. I love you both so much, you're equally my soulmates and I want you two to look after each other while I'm gone.

Robs, go travelling with Nancy, ok? Thank you for looking after me all these years but it's time for you to go look after yourself. Go see the world for me, tell me all about it wherever I am when you get back.

Eddie, I'm sorry we didn't get as much time as we hoped, I hope you know that even just a day with you has been worth a lifetime with anyone else. Go follow your dreams, write music, perform, show the world how amazing I know you are. I give you full permission to fall in love with whoever you meet along the way, I don't want either of you guys to be alone.

Thank you for giving me a life worth remembering.

Your Dingus,

Stevie

#omfg i sobbed writing this im sorry #stranger things #steve harrington #stranger things s4 #eddie munson #st4 #steddie #stobin #robin buckely #angst #poor steve #concussions #memory loss #fuck i actually cried so much omfg #ficlet #major character death #tw major character death #tw death

[sen-ya]

I deserve what’s coming to me

#my art #one piece #trafalgar law #one piece law #trafalgardwaterlaw #heart pirates #major character death #one piece penguin #one piece bepo #one piece shachi

[fox-guardian]

today i am thinking about tim's freeze response.

in ep 104, in his statement about danny, he beats himself up over the fact that he couldn't bring himself to move when he saw "danny" up on the stage in the covent garden theatre

[ID: A transcript screenshot reading "I always tell myself there was some force there. Something that held me in place and meant that all I could do was watch. But sometimes when I think back, I remember how my legs shook, and maybe I could move. Maybe I’m just a coward." end ID] ~~~~

and then in ep 39 sasha had to Tackle Him to get him out of prentiss' way after his whole joe spooky bit because he just Didn't Move apparently

[ID: A transcript screenshot reading:

SASHA: Behind you! Run! TIM: Oh… PRENTISS: [Slowly intoning over worm sound] Do you hear their song? SASHA: TIM! [IMPACT, WORMS AND SCUFFLING]

end ID] ~~~~

worm sounds and a full sentence after going "oh" and sasha STILL needed to tackle him.

i don't really have anywhere i'm going with this i'm just thinking about it really hard

#ramblings with major #the magnus archives #tma #tim stoker #this man will be the death of me #also YES these are the bits i wanna animate if you simply Must Know #also i wonder if each OG archive person has their own main fear response #if i had to pin one to each character i'd say martin is fight tim is freeze ig jon would be flight and idk about sasha #there's also fawn but i don't really get fawn vibes from her #her fear response is 'roll with it' jasdlkajdkj #sasha and jon are hard to pinpoint cuz they're very. they lack self preservation but anywhoodle

[heymacy]

IAN GALLAGHER + his journey with bipolar disorder

╰┈➤ “At times, being bipolar can be an all-consuming challenge, requiring a lot of stamina and even more courage, so if you’re living with this illness and functioning at all, it’s something to be proud of, not ashamed of." - Carrie Fisher

#happy world bipolar day to all my bp babies #(more thoughts at the end of the tags) #shameless #shamelessnet #shamelessedit #ian gallagher #cameron monaghan #*macygifs #bipolar disorder #hello pals how are we doin #i made this gif set in july of 2023 and never posted it because 1) i was terrified to share it and potentially see Bad Takes in the tags #and 2) because my hyperfixation was waning. and while both of those things are still mostly true (the fixation comes and goes) #i feel like it's really important to share as ian's bipolar storyline was not only so vital to his character it was a bit of representation #that isn't often given to the disorder and those (like myself) who live with it every single day #world bipolar day is a day where we can both celebrate ourselves and our resilience and also raise awareness of the reality of the disorder #which is both terrifying and beautiful at its core. this disease is not a death sentence or a sentence to an unfulfilled and miserable life #while there are challenges galore when it comes to balancing life with this disorder it IS possible to live a full and productive life #and i think it's really important to have representation of that in media - and while shameless dropped the ball on a LOT of storylines #over the years THIS is the one they really fucking nailed and i am incredibly grateful #i first started watching shameless while in the midst of a major depressive episode and i was later (finally) diagnosed during an extended #hypo/manic episode - this show and ian's storyline got me through so much and made me feel so seen and validated in my struggles #world bipolar day is also vincent van gogh's birthday (happy birthday buddy) who was posthumously diagnosed with bipolar disorder #and who experienced both depressive and hypo/manic episodes during his lifetime (and was regularly institutionalized) #it takes a lot of help and support to keep us going. it takes the support of our family and friends and *most* of all #it takes patience and kindness and understanding - which is so so so easy to give if you are willing to love and listen #so please. be willing. listen to our stories. be patient with us. show us love without conditions. support us in any way you can. #we are worth it #i promise #anyway. that's really all i wanted to say. happy world bipolar day to those who celebrate (me) and may all of us living with this disorder #go on to live happy fulfilling beautiful magical lives

[achenetype]

Hihi can you please do a Luke x reader where it’s basically an unrequited love like reader is so in love with Luke and he has no idea so she moves on and years later she’s over him and confesses to him like a oh I thought you should know and the whole time Luke had been in love with her, kinda base it off that one TikTok audio where it’s like “I’m not in love with you anymore” “I never knew you were” 🩷🩷

OHH YOURE FEEDING MY ANGST BRAIN WITH THIS ONE. buckle up lets break some hearts

edit: this ended up being WAY sadder than i originally intended. i am so sorry anon oh my god

i gave you a rare gift (but you didn't want it) — luke castellan

pairing: luke castellan x fem!reader

word count: 2.8k

content: angst, major character/reader death, unrequited love, mutual pining, reader is part of kronos' army, luke and reader are doomed by the narrative, [Y/N] used (sparingly), alcohol mention, description of injury

listening to: bloodfest (from mizumono) by brian reitzell

You are twenty-two years old, sitting on the rocky beach of a lake somewhere in the forests of upstate New York. Light, gentle fog hangs in the air around you, and the only sound is the tap-tap-tap of Luke skipping rocks across the water.

Come dawn, the world will burn. The gods will be dethroned. Every demigod will either be free, or dead.

But now, at midnight, you are twenty-three and Luke turns to you. He's holding a small, squashed cupcake in one hand. "Happy birthday," he says, "to my right-hand man." He pauses. "Woman. Right-hand woman."

He holds the pastry out to you and smiles, but something behind his eyes is empty. Hollow. He hadn't been sleeping recently. As much as he tried to hide it, he couldn't stop you from seeing when he came to you every morning for a cup of coffee and to debrief for the day.

Perks of being the revolution leader's best friend, you think. His right-hand woman.

Luke's eyes flick from the cake to your face. "Do you like it?" He asks, and for a split second, you swear there's a note of hope in his voice. "I wanted to do something, y'know," he says. "Twenty-three is huge. It's a monumental age."

You nod, but stay quiet.

He pauses for a second. "You remember how you always said you wished you never had a birthday?"

When you were twelve, nearly thirteen, your mother drove you across the country to go to summer camp.

"It'll be like a road trip," she said, tossing your duffel bag into the back seat of her battered car. "And then, hey, you'll only stay at camp until the end of August, and then you can come back and go to school. See all your friends again." She squeezed your shoulder and pushed the car door closed. "How about that?"

"Sure," you said. "Super fun."

And it was; you were actually kind of excited. You'd never been to New York. It seemed a million universes away.

And it was your birthday tomorrow. Maybe this was a gift, something that your mother had put together to make up for the years of being too tired and too drunk to make a cake, or get presents, or anything.

Your mother put her hands on her hips and sighed. "You know how I feel about the attitude, yeah? Let's not do this today."

"I wasn't even trying to—" You cut off as your mother glared at you, her face tense. You knew that look: the biting-the-inside-of-her-cheek, trying-to-be-understanding, trying-to-be-a-good-mom-despite-it-all look.

You hated that look.

"Just..." She sighed. "Just get in the damn car, [Y/N]."

You did, fighting back the tears building in the corners of your eyes, and the slam of the car door closing was as loud as thunder.

Twenty silent minutes of city streets and highway merge ramps and cold, empty stretches of asphalt and concrete passed before either of you spoke.

"Mom," you said, thirty-three seconds into minute twenty-one, "I'm sorry for talking back earlier." Your voice was quiet, shaking, cupped in your throat like a scared animal.

She didn't answer, keeping her eyes fixed on the road.

"I don't like being like this, Mom," you said, looking over at her. The silhouette of her through the driver's side window, backlit by the streetlights, was shapeless. Impassive. "I don't like doing this with you all the time."

She scoffed.

You pulled your legs to your chest, tucking your head between your knees, and tried to find sleep.

You weren't sure how long you slept, but you woke up to the sound of music playing softly over the speakers. Exit signs whizzed past you at what felt like breakneck speed. You wondered, briefly, if you would break your neck if you jumped out of the car right now.

Ultimately you decided against it. You didn't want your mother's last words to you to be, get in the damn car.

That would make her feel guilty, you thought, and that guilt would make her hate me even more.

"I don't wanna fight," you tried instead, picking at a loose thread in the cuff of your jacket sleeve. "Mom, I'm sorry, okay? I don't want us to be mad at each other anymore," you said. A sob caught in your throat, heavy and wet and choking.

Your mother sighed and reached one hand from the wheel to tuck your hair behind your ear. "I know you don't, sweetie," she said. "I don't want to be mad at you either."

"Then why do you do it," you asked.

When she turned to look at you, her eyes were wet. She smiled, or tried to. "Sometimes, certain people just…can't help but fight," she said. "It's just part of who we are, I think."

"Did you fight with Dad?"

Your mother inhaled, quick and sharp through her nose, as she flicked the turn signal to right and guided the car down the exit ramp from the highway, her eyes locked ahead. "Yes," she said. "Sometimes. Sometimes I think that's where we get it."

You swallowed. "Do you ever miss him?"

She doesn't peel her gaze away from the road. "Every day."

The two of you made your way through bustling streets and across too many bridges to count. You thought you fell asleep again, for a minute or maybe a year. Maybe it was all a dream.

"Mom," you asked as she turned onto a worn dirt road, the sunrise barely stretching over the horizon, "why are you bringing me here?"

She didn't answer for a moment. Two moments, then three. Through the leaves, you saw one tree standing impossibly tall. A pine tree.

Your mother parked the car and turned to you. "Because I don't know what to do with you, [Y/N]," she said. "I don't know how I can keep you," she paused, "safe. How I could do this, on my own, in any normal way."

She got out of the car and grabbed your bag, shoving it against your chest. "Camp is just up that hill there," she said, gesturing in the direction of the large tree you'd seen earlier. "They’ve got people up there waiting for you."

"Mom," you said. "Wait, I—I wanted to talk to you—"

She shook her head. "I can't come with you, sweetie." She smiled, the curve of her mouth falling just short of her eyes. "You just remember that I love you, okay?"

At that moment, you knew: she was going to leave you here.

“No,” you said, tears rolling down your face. “No, no—Mom. Mom, please.”

“Before you go,” she said, her voice tight and sharp, “I wanted to give you this.” She reached into the back seat and pulled out a jacket, worn leather with patched elbows. “It was mine in college,” she explained, not meeting your eyes. Like she was reading from a play or book, and you were the unfortunate audience. “I figure, it doesn’t fit me anymore.” 

She pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Happy birthday, baby.”

It was the first time you had ever felt like your mother loved you. You knew she liked you, sometimes. But you were never quite sure if she loved you until that moment. 

And then she got back into the car with one final, teary nod. 

And you never saw her again.

“Yeah,” you tell Luke, shrugging. “I think I’ve got a pretty good reason, though.” Your lips curve into a smile.

He laughs and tilts his head. It’s a habit of his; he’ll say something and twist his neck just a fraction, narrow his eyes. A nervous tic that not even years of training and fighting and killing could stamp out.

You used to think about kissing his neck when he did it, but now you’re not sure whether you would know the difference between kissing and ripping his throat out. 

“True,” Luke concedes. You laugh, too, unrestrained and loud. “Gods, your sense of humor is dark.”

“You laughed first,” you remind him. He grins.

The cupcake he offers you, despite its lumps and smears of frosting, is pretty good. You split it apart with careful fingers and hand half of it back to him.

“You’re celebrating with me,” you laugh, “so you get half. That’s the rule.”

Luke simply smiles at you and takes the crumbling cake from your hand. “Whatever you say.”

You roll your eyes, grinning back. “Damn right.”

Luke’s laugh rings out again, sharp and bright against the night sky. Firelight flickers across his face, painting him in brilliant streaks of orange and gold. 

“After tomorrow,” Luke murmurs, pulling his knees up to his chest, “we can do this whenever we want.” The wind ruffles his hair almost fondly, floppy brown curls stirring and settling back against his skull.

You raise an eyebrow. “This?”

He gestures in a wide arc. “Be here, like this. Just be people, instead of demigods or heroes or revolutionaries.” Luke’s voice picks up, conviction surging into his words. “I mean, seriously—when was the last time you thought you would ever have a normal life?”

You’d never understood the demigods who joined Luke’s cause without knowing him. The plan itself seemed crazy—the only way anyone would follow it was if they knew their leader could pull it off. 

You have to know Luke to know he was capable of that, you think.

Until now. Now, you see what you think everyone else sees—a real leader, a revolutionary. A force for change with a silver tongue.

He makes it all seem so possible. You almost think he might pull it off.

Luke looks over to you. “We’re going to change everything,” he says. 

Almost.

“We’re going to change the rules,” Luke said, spreading the map over an empty cot in his cabin. “If we want to win, we need to be thinking six steps ahead of the enemy.”

A few of the campers huddled around the makeshift table shuffled and coughed awkwardly. 

“Every strategy’s been done before,” a tall girl with bubblegum-pink hair and an eyebrow piercing shouted from the back of the group. “How are we going to out-war the god of war’s kids?” 

Murmurs rushed around the table, soft and susurrant. There’s no way we’re going anywhere here. We’ve gotten our asses beat six weeks in a row. What are we even doing?

Luke smiled. “Ares is the god of war,” he said, “not strategy.” He slung his arm around one of the campers next to him and inclined his head in the direction of the map.

Quietly, almost too quiet for you to hear, he murmured into the girl’s ear. “Don’t doubt yourself, Bethy,” he whispered.

You learned three things in the ten minutes that she spent explaining your team’s new strategy—

—one, your team was going to kick some major ass—

—two, your strategist’s name was Annabeth Chase, and she was the smartest eight-year-old you have ever met—

—and three, Luke was right.

Annabeth’s plan took the rules of Capture the Flag and threw them out the window. She split the team into four subgroups, each with a delegated leader. Luke nodded along as she talked, marking the map with a stubby pencil. 

When Annabeth’s eyes, dark and piercing, searched the crowd and landed on you, you felt your heart stop.

“You,” she said, “are you good with a sword?”

You raised your eyebrow, pointing to yourself—just to confirm this genius child was speaking to you—and Annabeth nodded. 

“I guess?” You said, shrugging. “I know some basic stuff, and I’m good at disarming.”

Annabeth’s face broke into a smile. “Work with Luke on the first wave of offense.” She gestured to the map. “You two will take points B and B-one,” she explained. “My group will take the A-points. You wait for our signal to move in.”

You met Luke’s eyes across the table. Hey, you mouthed. 

His eyes flicked up and down your form. Hey, he mouthed back. You ready to win?

You smiled and nodded.

Good, Luke said, all teeth. Let’s go.

He stood and grabbed his helmet. You did the same.

“I’m [Y/N],” you said as you followed Luke through the forest. “We, uh—we met when I first got here, like, a year ago.” I was sobbing my eyes out because my mother abandoned me, you didn’t add. It was kind of pathetic. I think I threw up from crying so hard.

You suddenly hoped Luke didn’t remember meeting you, actually. That would be less embarrassing.

He turned and caught your eye. “You live in the same cabin as me. ‘Course I know you.” 

Of course he remembers.

You laughed, flushing red. “Oh. Yeah. Of course.”

The silence was so thick, you could have cut it with the sleek bronze of your sword.

In the end, it was Luke who broke the silence. “You wanna play a game while we wait out here?”

You shrugged. “Sure,” you said. 

“Twenty questions,” Luke replied. “So we can learn enough about each other to actually work together.” He smiled. “What’s your favorite color?”

“Low-hanging fruit,” you said, your voice just barely taking on a teasing tone. “It’s green.” 

Luke laughed, loud and full and bright. “Apologies,” he said; mirth crept into his words, staining everything with a tinge of that laughter. “I’ll go for the more gut-wrenching, intimate questions next time.”

You flushed red again. Intimate questions. What the hell does he mean by that?

“My turn,” you said instead. “What do you want to be when you get older?”

“We’ll be heroes,” Luke whispers. “Real heroes. Not figureheads propped up by the gods.”

You wish you could believe him. He’s lying on the beach next to you, his head resting in the junction between your shoulder and your neck. Over the treetops, the stars are beginning to fade from the sky.

It’s almost time.

Your throat feels like someone has sanded it down to expose your vocal cords. This is a bad idea, you want to say. We shouldn’t do this. Tell me we can still not do this. 

“Wanna play twenty questions?” You say, crackling and hoarse.

Luke turns to look at you. “Yeah,” he murmurs. 

“My turn first,” you whisper. Luke nods.

You take a deep breath, in and out. “Are we going to die doing this?”

Luke inhales sharply. “Maybe,” he says. Slowly. Deliberately. “But we’ll do everything we can to make sure we don’t.”

“I got another question,” you say. Luke raises an eyebrow. His knuckles brush yours as you sit up.

“Are you scared?”

It’s your birthday. 

You think you’re going to die. 

Luke is kneeling over you, the palm of his hand pressed against the wet opening in your stomach where someone had caught you with a spear. The shaft of it is still sticking out of you, you think. You’re afraid to look down, afraid to see it. 

“No,” Luke gasps, “no, no, no.”

You watch as the gold fades from his eye, leaving behind the honey-dark brown you remember. His hands are slick with blood—most of it’s probably yours, it has to be yours. You’re bleeding out, after all. 

You tug on Luke’s sleeve weakly. “Hey,” you breathe. “Luke. It’s okay, it’s okay. It’s going to be okay.”

“No,” he says. “You’re—you’re hurt.”

“I know,” you rasp. “I know it hurts. I’m the one—” 

You break off as a cough sticks in your throat. It feels wet. Oily. Desperate to get out. You taste the blood in the back of your throat before you can even take another breath.

“—I’m the one who’s feeling it,” you finish, your voice tilting up at the end. A joke. Gods, your sense of humor is dark.

Luke laughs weakly. “Don’t talk,” he says. “You’re gonna be just fine, [Y/N], just fine.”

He meets your eyes. You see him realize it in slow motion.

Tell him. Tell him now. He’s never going to know otherwise—he could die any minute—

“Luke,” you murmur. “Luke, did you know I loved you?”

He freezes. “What?”

You cough again. Blood spills over your lips. “I loved you,” you repeat. “Since we were campers. Had the…the biggest, stupidest crush on you.”

Luke shakes his head. “No, no,” he says. “You—”

“You’re my best friend,” you continue. “Whatever feelings were there, you’re my best friend.”

Luke’s palm against your stomach is warm. It feels safe. It feels like sleeping side-by-side in the cabin, like shared meals and shared secrets. 

“Why are you telling me this?” Luke says, “why are you—why?”

You blink, just once, but it takes everything you have to open your eyes again after closing them. “Because I’m going to die,” you whisper. “And even if—even though I moved on, I wanted you to…to know.”

Luke bows over your body, pressing his forehead to yours. Tears slip from his cheeks and fall onto yours, driving little rivers through the blood smeared there.

He’s crying. Why is he—

“You idiot,” Luke says brokenly. “I loved you too. I loved you too.” He cradles your head in his lap, brushing your hair away from your face. “[Y/N], I’m so sorry.”

Your eyes slip shut.

I loved you too, Luke’s voice echoes. I loved you too.

#— ash's writing #pjo x reader #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan #luke castellan x you #reader insert #y/n #pjo imagine #ok now we get into the warning tags #graphic depictions of injury #major character death #major character injury #reader death #alcohol mention #doomed by the narrative #genuinely im so sorry i really ran wild with this one good god #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan fanfic #— ash’s answering!