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sailxrmxrs · 1 year

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i truly underestimated the sheer amount of brainrot watching trigun stampede would give me but here we go. this is the culmination of many nights spent scrolling vash fanart and letting the thoughts run wild. circumstances mean there's a gunfight happening and vash is there by your side trying to protect you but oops a bullet scraped past you and now he's taking you to safety asap to patch you up and fret over your wellbeing. protective vash being soft and flustered hits me directly in a weak spot he's just so.....y'know. love that little man.

Surviving in a hellish desert in the throes of summer was already an arduous task in its own right. Settlements and towns were miles upon miles apart, the distance feeling even longer when the horizon was a vast pool of sand as far as the eyes could see. Not to mention the perpetual thirst and hunger that ailed your body at any given time of day. The relief that coming across some semblance of civilisation brought was beyond words. However, enjoying such a sight was too often spoiled by hostile hosts or unsavoury groups. Travelling with Vash the Stampede meant there was never a boring moment, even if he did draw trouble like a magnet. Today was no different, under the unrelenting summer sun was the sound of gunfire. It had been like any other day until someone had recognised Vash and all hell broke loose. As soon as the gunfire started, you both dived for cover shortly before Vash charged off without a second thought to try and take care of things by himself. He always tried to insist that you remained out of danger despite knowing he was fighting a losing battle. Not once had you let Vash fight alone nor did you intend to start now. Pistol in hand, you held your own, immobilising anyone who came close enough. Never enough to fatally harm them, just enough to leave them unable or unwilling to keep fighting. Vash had been adamant that neither of you would be killers and you were more than happy to comply. Peaceful resolutions were few and far between but that didn't mean lives had to be lost for the sake of some gun fight over a money reward.

Surveying the area, you caught sight of Vash's familiar red coat. He artfully dodged a bullet flying his way, rolling behind a broken-down car for a momentary shelter. A perfect opening to make your way to him. Survival in numbers was always the winning move. You aimed your pistol, shooting at your assailant's feet and sending them off balance. It gave you enough time to jump to Vash's side, ducking just fast enough to dodge the bullet intended for you.

"What are you doing?! You never listen when I tell you to stay out of trouble," Vash complained, pouting as you caught your breath. It was almost impressive how he could sound so casual right in the middle of a direct attack on his life. He reloaded his bullets, lips still downturned though you knew he was secretly grateful for the backup. Even if Vash preferred to keep you out of harm's way, he never once doubted your ability to keep up with him.

"And let you have all the fun? No thanks." More gunshots struck the body of the car, swiftly ending any attempts at conversation. There would be time to talk things over later. First you had to get out with your lives in tact. You and Vash shared a look, silently communicating the usual plan of action and within an instant you were jumping back into the fray. In any other instance, being outnumbered would be cause for worry but with Vash at your side you knew that you would prevail. He hadn't earned his infamous reputation for nothing. Even if he was secretly far softer and much less prone to violence than the wanted posters suggested, his skill with a gun was on another level—though a decent helping of luck no doubt factored into his survival. Vash shouted over the cacophony of sounds, only just audible as he checked in with you. Even in the midst of battle Vash was as attentive as the situation allowed him to be. Every time you'd shout back that you were fine, that he should worry about himself but it did little to quell his worries.

The distant sound of cars approaching sounded from the deserted town centre. Whoever was leading this gang had called for backup and soon you and Vash were going to be surrounded. Your attackers were focused on Vash, intent on taking down the Humanoid Typhoon before worrying about the unnamed partner he'd found himself. He was worth a lot more in their eyes, which gave the perfect opportunity to slip away and take care of the threat before it became an even bigger problem. Usually you'd like to let Vash know if you were disappearing off somewhere but circumstance didn't allow it and you just had to hope he'd be able to find you once it was all over. You sprinted down past an old bar, its windows once boarded up but now littered with bullet holes. The place was certainly a ghost town. There had been no sign of life until a suspicious looking individual had emerged from the shadows asking who Vash was. There was no telling what troubles they'd caused here to clear out the townsfolk. Still, you couldn't dwell on maybes and what-ifs. What mattered here was getting out safely. And maybe finding some salvageable food and water to sustain you and Vash on the next leg of your journey.

Peeking out from an abandoned home, you caught sight of five men standing in what used to be the town centre. Whoever these people were they were no amateurs, at least judging by the size of their guns anyway. This could end poorly if you weren't careful. A more defensive approach was in order; sticking to the shadows to conceal your whereabouts was likely the only way you'd come out of this alive. You climbed through the broken window to the empty building beside you, making your way upstairs and onto the balcony. The wood of the balcony seemed to be holding together well enough to keep you mostly hidden from view with a few stray cracks and holes to keep an eye on your targets. It was the perfect spot to line up your gun and take aim without getting yourself caught too soon. You just had to hope the wooden barrier was enough to keep you from harm until you'd taken enough of them down. Your sight was limited, but even a few misses could suffice as warning shots to deter them from getting involved. On many occasions you'd watched grown men run screaming when a bullet struck metres away from their feet. All bark and no bite. Though something told you these men wouldn't go down quite so easily. Your intuitions proved accurate, the blind shots doing little to scare them off.

Within a few shots, your position was compromised and your targets had begun their own onslaught of bullets. A number of bullets struck the balcony though you still remained out of sight for the time being, the few hits you'd managed to land working in your favour to skew their aim. Judging by the speed at which they shot, you'd need to make a move. And fast. If one of them decided to make a run for the house you'd be without a solid escape route. Then, a bullet came flying, striking a wood panel beside you and giving your attackers a direct chance to shoot. You leapt up from your spot, running back into the house to make your escape. Footsteps thundered up the stairs leaving you no choice but to engage. Despite his imposing size, the man was not well-trained in close combat. His moves were predictable and clumsy, leaving one too many openings for you to take advantage of and send him crashing down unconscious. One threat down meant only four more to take care of. Then there was Vash and whatever chaos he was involved in right now. You couldn't let your concern for him cloud you judgement, pushing those fears aside as you made your way down and back out of the window you'd climbed in from. Gunshots were firing at an alarming rate though there was little strategy in it. They didn't know where you were just yet. Waiting behind the wall to the house, you let them edge closer before ambushing them with a fresh round of bullets. Now that you were on ground level, you could see two of the assailants holding back, no weapons in sight—though there was no counting on them being unarmed.

As shots fired, you tried to manoeuvre around the onslaught of ammunition but without sufficient cover you couldn't escape the scrapes of a few bullets. Cursing under your breath as one shot past your cheek and split the skin, you heard a familiar voice calling your name. Vash. He was running like a fire had been lit inside of him. There was an intensity upon his face that you rarely ever saw. Even in the most dangerous and dire of situations, Vash always managed to send you a beaming smile. He was truly the embodiment of sunshine. But right now he was the eye of a storm crashing over all in its wake. He was ruthless with his shots, each one striking true and sending your attackers to the ground. Still alive, but perhaps wishing they weren't. The two men who had been hanging back and watching remained out of Vash's line of sight and, for the time being, out of danger. Not if you could help it. Raising your gun, you set onto the two remaining assailants. They were quick to return fire as they backed towards their car.

"Let them go. We need to get out of here," Vash called, making his way over to you. "Are you oka—" Vash halted mid-sentence, spotting the slow drip of blood down your cheek. Without another word, he was scooping you into his arms and running despite your protests. It was a minor injury, not one to panic over. But Vash didn't seem to think so. He carried you off to the other side of town, making for one of the abandoned homes still in good enough shape to act as sufficient shelter. He sat you down on an old leather couch, the material torn up and worn, as he rummaged through drawers in the neighbouring kitchen to look for something to clean the wound with.

"Can I trust you to stay there while I go back to our car? Assuming it's still in one piece, that is," Vash asked, eyeing up with caution. Worried knitted his brows as he contemplated leaving you here alone and unprotected.

"I can walk, you know? It's just a little scratch."

Vash shook his head, blonde hair as animated as his expression. "Doctor's orders."

"You're not a doctor."

"Am now. Stay there." Vash made for the doorway before turning back to add, "I'm glad you're okay."

When he returned with some supplies, Vash set to cleaning your wound. The bleeding had long since stopped but he was adamant that it required his utmost attention. His movements were gentle as he wiped away the dried blood with a dampened rag of fabric while his other hand softly holding your chin in place. He always touched you with a delicate sense of care, but this felt almost as if he were scared to break you any further. Despite his tenderness, something darker seemed to linger in Vash's face. As if he felt guilty for not being there just that little bit sooner. None of this was his fault. There was no way to predict such an attack would happen. It was simply the way of the land. Whether Vash viewed it that way or not was another matter entirely. Once he deemed you cleaned up and devoid of any other injuries, Vash tossed aside the cloth and leaned forward in his seat. He was uncharacteristically quiet, usually full of energy after making a safe escape from a fight.

"Vash?" Your voice was low, tentative so as not to startle him. "Please don't blame yourself for what happened out there. I'm fine, see?"

His eyes remained fixed on a hole in the flooring as he responded. "They came after us because of me. You got hurt because I wasn't fast enough."

"No." You immediately denied his admissions of guilt, edging closer to place your hands on his cheeks. They were as soft as usual, tinted pink from sun exposure. His eyes were glistening, tears threatening to spill down those rosy cheeks. "This isn't your fault, Vash."

"I was so scared. I thought I'd taken care of the last of them then I turn and see you're gone. I heard gunshots and—" He paused, voice cracking. "You don't know how I relieved I was to see you still alive."

Your heart ached, knowing all too well the fear that had likely stricken him in that moment. "I promised that we were in this together, didn't I? Can't go breaking it just yet." You smiled, heart fluttering at the sight of Vash mirroring the action. Your thumb swiped at a stray tear as you left a soft kiss on the bridge of Vash's nose. His cheeks warmed a deeper shade as he tried to pull away. He flustered easily but still tried to hide it every time to no avail.

"Think we're good here for the night? We could do with sleeping in an actual bed for once. One more night in the car might actually kill me."

Vash nodded, hands finding yours as he pulled you up from your spot on the couch. "Practice for the future, hm? All cosy in a little house. Could be nice. So long as you don't mind the bounty, that is."

"It's worth it if it's you." Vash's hold on your hands dropped, his hands moving to cover his bright, blushing face. Your laugh chimed with the sound of his whining complaints. What the future held in store for you and Vash was unknown, but you were certain that so long as he was smiling, all would be well.

#trigun x reader #vash x reader #trigun stampede x reader #vash the stampede x reader #trigun fanfic #2023 is the year of wolfwood n vash occupying 87% of my brain space #and honestly i don't mind this is great #no number of fics involving this man will sustain me he's just so #anyway goodnight to vash enjoyers and vash enjoyers only #anna writes

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annasinterests · 2 months

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don't look at me like that unless you mean it

seasons don’t fear the reaper ♫ nor do the wind, the sun, or the rain

|| series masterlist || main masterlist ||

a/n: hello hello hello!!!! i am crawling back from the trenches to update for this series!!! i've gotten a few comments here and there of people telling me how much they've enjoyed it so far which has made my heart grow 3x bigger. thank you to everyone who has been so patient with me and still following along <3 y'all mean the world to me!!!! enjoy buddies <3

word count: 1.3k (for good reason i promise)

pairings: joel miller x f!reader

warnings & tags: minors dni, abby's group pov, direct consequence of the last chapter, swearing, lots of tension!, depictions of violence, whatever you know of TLOU part II- throw it out the window from here forward — please tell me if i missed anything!

The gas station stood under the muted glow of the moon, its once-red sign now an overgrown relic, its letters lacking the shiny luster they had decades ago. The windows were boarded up with rotten wood, and the interior had been stripped down to its very foundation. It was the best refuge offered in the miles they trekked– the only, really.

Abby stormed across the linoleum floors, the rubber soles of her boots striking with an angry cadence, one maintained from the moments they stopped running. She carelessly slung her pack off her shoulders, letting it land haphazardly on the side, and drove her knife into the countertop. Planting her hands to steady herself, she murmured curses under her breath, a volatile symphony of emotions reverberating in the stale air.

The others trailed behind her, one attempting to make themselves inconspicuous by being the last– a futile effort given the charged atmosphere.

"Couldn't think of a name that didn't start with the same letter as your own?" Abby's voice cut through the silence, her anger evident even without turning to face her target.

Mel avoided looking at her hunched figure. The tension between them had been going on for months, and this was certainly the breaking point. Abby had been set on one mission for years, and all it took was five minutes for Mel to screw up. Your escape forced them fleeing farther than Abby preferred, dismantling their camp in haste and running until they felt some semblance of safety over the border into Idaho.

Embarrassment colored Mel's face as she weakly rationalized her guilt, "I told you it wasn't a good idea to begin with."

Abby scoffed and rolled her eyes, a sardonic smile curling on her lips, "What you should've told me was that you're totally fucking incapable. Would've been crystal clear, then."

Mel swallowed hard, feeling Abby's rage descend upon her like a palpable force. Glancing at the others, most avoiding eye contact due to their own discomfort, Mel crossed her arms and tried to find the courage to defend herself once more.

"I did my best."

"Well your best wasn't good enough," Abby retorted without missing a beat, finally turning to face Mel. The moonlight streamed through the cracks of the boards just enough to illuminate the intensity of her glare and furrowed brows.

It was clear that Nora and Manny's sentiments aligned with Abby's, yet they chose silence over confrontation. Jordan and Nick, perpetually indifferent, remained on the fringe, more interested in the thrill of hunting and hurting enemies rather than the unfolding of drama within their group.

"Listen, what's done is done, alright?" Owen placed his hand on Nora's back, an action that sent a pang of jealousy through Abby's stomach. She eyed them both with disgust and forced herself to swallow down the brewing nausea. "Now, our best bet is to head back to Seattle. We can regroup–"

"Se- What?" Abby's eyes widened at the suggestion. "No– We're not-"

"We don't have a choice," he cut her off and took a step towards her, concern evident on his features.

"The hell we don't!" Her voice thundered. "We're not going back!"

"You're being reckless!" Owen snapped back with an accusatory finger, "We can't afford-"

"Four years!" Abby seethed, her frustration pouring out, "Four fucking years, gone to shit because of her!"

Owen's jaw clenched, tired of the constant hostility towards Mel. "You're looking at a whole town to go after us, you know that, right?"

She pressed her lips into a thin line.

"What then, Abby? You wanna start a war with these people, is that it?" His voice raised with each word. "We can barely keep up with the Scars!"

The weight of the past bore down on Abby, her blind rage and need for retribution chaotically clashing with the pragmatic choice he presented, one that resonated with the others as they too recognized the impracticality of her rage.

Her clenched fists trembled at her sides, torn between her relentless pursuit of revenge and going about it all sensibly. She would've almost agreed with him– almost– if it hadn't been for the small voice that came from behind him.

"He's right."

The room plunged into a deafening silence, the air undeniably thick with tension now more than ever. Mel's figure was almost entirely shielded by Owen at this point, her provocation igniting an instant outrage.

Abby's features darkened and she ripped her knife from the counter, raising it as she stormed towards Mel. How dare she? It was bad enough that she embodied a constant reminder of everything Abby and Owen could've been, but now she had the audacity to defy Abby despite being the one responsible for this entire mess?

Owen caught her arm and she lunged against his hold with a powerful shout, "Fuck you!"

He pushed Abby back just enough to create distance, opening his mouth to speak but only being met with a forceful shove and resounding slap. "And fuck you, too!"

Abby's chest heaved as she backed up and glared between the two; one a former friend, the other a former lover– both nothing more than traitors to her now. She scoffed and shook her head, swiftly turning on her heel to retreat through a backroom and subsequent door outside. Manny exchanged a quick look with Nora before slowly trailing after her, while Owen watched her storm out with an apathetic expression and a loose arm wrapped around Mel in a half-assed attempt of consoling her.

Outside, Abby leaned against the cool brick of the building, her skin radiating a heat that would surely be more welcomed in the winter versus now. The bitter taste of frustration lingered in her mouth and it seemed like nothing could soothe the tumult within, not even the loud buzzing and ticking of insects around could snap her out of it.

She slid down the wall until she hit the ground with a soft thud and rubbed her hands over her face. She felt so much all at once– anger, grief, sorrow, resentment. This was all she could think about, all that she worked so hard for, only for it to be ruined. She couldn't fathom being forced to take ten steps back when she was so close to ending this nightmare.

Quietly, Manny joined her side. Her leveled counterpart, the one that could ground her when she was too close from flying off the handles. At one point in time, Owen had been that for her, but it ended long ago– back when he still believed in this mission, when he still believed in them.

Manny understood Abby's turmoil well– hell, he harbored the same resentment. He figured him to be another asshole left in this world to begin with, but the belief was solidified once he broke Abby's heart.

However, he also recognized the necessity of unity.

"Abs..." His tone was soft, "you know I've got your back, right?"

She shifted slightly, nodding and meeting his eyes. "And you know I hate Owen just as much as you do... fuckin’ idiot seems to forget these two are the reason we winded up here, but–”

Abby gave him a pointed look, to which he defensively held a hand up, "Maybe we should go back to Seattle."

All Abby could muster was a half-hearted scoff before Manny spoke again, "I know it's not what you want– but now they know, and now they'll be expecting… Think of it as a chance to make no mistakes next time."

She looked back down between her knees, reluctantly acknowledging the wisdom in his words with a nod. She sighed, her shoulders easing a bit of tension, "We were so close, Manny."

"I know, Abs," he placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder, his voice carrying the weight of shared disappointment. With a gentle jostle, he infused a touch of optimism reserved for moments like this, "But listen... Just when they think we're gone, we'll be right under their noses, yeah?"

The thought was enough to make her crack a smile.

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller fic #tlou #the last of us #tlou fanfiction #annasmasterlist #anna writes

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obetrolncocktails · 11 months

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Well, in the wake of that disastrous, but awkwardly funny interview, anyone want a new josh fic to tide them over?

It's the start of the angsty series where josh finds out that the reader was a fan before they were together, and that she's been lying to him....

Wasn't planning on posting tonight, but hey! My treat! Who's in, and who wants to be tagged?

EDIT: It's Called Deception.

#gvf #greta van fleet #josh kiszka #josh gvf #Josh Kiszka fanfic #josh kiszka fic #Josh Kiszka fanfiction #Anna writes

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lazywonderlvnd · 2 years

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been thinking a lot abt when harry says to ginny at the end of hbp that being with her has been like “something out of someone else’s life” and how weirdly soulful and romantic that is. so here’s some of that harry and draco being in love with him

can also be found on ao3

rating: pg-13 word count: ~1.7k pairing: harry/draco

Rain has drummed ceaselessly against the flimsy roof of their tent for the last two hours. Sometimes softly, sometimes with the sort of ferocity that suggests the world is ending. Harry likes the latter kind.

“It’s romantic,” he’d said, with a joint between his fingers.

It’s a one-person Muggle tent, comically small and Charmed not to leak. This Harry had agreed to only when the first apocalyptic crash of summer thunder rattled the ground and Draco threatened to leave if he felt even one drop of water.

Privately, however, he’s come to decide Harry was right, as he so often is in these matters. He isn’t romantic like Draco’s first boyfriend after Hogwarts, who’d taken him on expensive dates and brought him flowers at work, who’d whisked him away to Paris for his birthday and brought him breakfast in bed at weekends and any of a hundred other things which technically made him a terribly lovely and very romantic partner, just … not like Harry. Harry is not so much romantic in practice as he is an insufferable romantic by nature.

Harry likes rain and thunderstorms and cloudy days and foggy nights. He likes kissing Draco in the morning before they’ve brushed their teeth and he likes living in a small flat with a hundred plants and big windows that he always keeps open.

He likes sharing things. Clothes, food, thoughts, furniture. Secrets.

And he makes Draco sleep in Muggle tents in the middle of thunderstorms, gets stoned and says things like “I love you like I love the rain” right before fucking him.

Afterwards he stretches out on his back with his shirt off and sweat drying on his bony chest, arms behind his head, covered in all those stupid, mostly meaningless flash tattoos Draco secretly likes only for the fact that they’re bizarre little pictures on Harry’s skin that speak to his personality. His glasses lay next to their air mattress and his hair is in disarray. Off to the side is a Muggle radio playing soft guitar music and the smell of rain is pervasive and all-consuming. He can taste it every time he draws breath.

Harry says, “Find us another joint,” and smirks when Draco glares but does it anyway, because he likes placing it carefully between Harry’s lips while Harry watches him with his unfathomable green eyes and then sparking it for him the Muggle way, using Harry’s charmingly crude lighter that has a peeling picture of a cartoon woman on the front with a large head, a very short red dress and a matching red garter around one exposed thigh.

“Tell me something,” says Harry. He does this sometimes. At first it had taken Draco off guard, made him uncomfortable, being put on the spot like that.

“What do you mean?” he’d asked, to which Harry had replied, “Just tell me something. Whatever you want.” And so Draco had told him about the properties of moonstone, because that was the first thing that popped into his head, and Harry laid there and listened like nothing in the world could have interested him more. The next time Draco explained his theory concerning Patronuses and Dark Marks and the time after that he told Harry about how he’d run away from home for a whole day the summer before second year.

In return Harry told him about his favourite music and anecdotes from nights out with his friends and how he’d been abused as a child and what it felt like to die.

“Go on,” he prompts when Draco remains silent. He breathes smoke out through his nostrils and offers the joint to Draco, who declines. Rain beats rhythmically against the thin polyester surrounding them. The song on the radio changes. He recognises it as one of Harry’s favourites, by an American with a funny voice and two first names.

“Hm,” Draco hums. He crosses his legs and his knee presses against Harry’s hip. Harry puts an absent-minded hand on his calf. “You first.”

Harry grins. “Alright,” he says, and after contemplating a minute, “have I ever told you about Valerie?”

“Who?”

“Right. So, Valerie was a girl I went to primary school with.” Perhaps because of Draco’s blank look, he then clarifies, “Muggle school, before Hogwarts. Anyway I had a crush on her in year five, but because of Dudley it was sort of, like, risky for anyone to be friends with me, you know, ‘cause he and his mates always beat me up and they’d do the same to anyone they thought was being chummy with me. And I was really awkward anyway, not like I could’ve talked to her even if I hadn’t been a pariah.” He hits the joint again and Draco frowns at him but says nothing, because Harry has made it clear he’s perfectly aware how sick and twisted his childhood was, and he doesn’t need Draco to tell him. “Kids at my school started ‘dating’ each other that year,” he says, holding the joint between his lips to make air quotes. “It wasn’t real, just hanging out at break and holding hands or whatever, you know how kids are. But Valerie was going out with one of Dudley’s mates.”

“Sounds like a bint with bad taste.”

“Nah,” says Harry, smirking. “I don’t think she really liked him.”

“A social-climbing bint with bad taste.”

“Will you shut it,” Harry laughs. The corners of his eyes crinkle endearingly and he squeezes Draco’s leg. “There was this one time they cornered me when she was there. I said something to Dudley — can’t remember what it was — but she laughed. I do remember really vividly the way her hands flew to her mouth, like she couldn’t believe she’d done it.”

“Must’ve been devastatingly witty,” Draco comments.

“You know me so well.”

“Mm.” He reaches forward and moves aside some hair hanging in front of Harry’s eyes. “Comedy king. Continue.”

“They had me cornered so I couldn’t just outrun them like I usually would have. Daniel, the kid she was dating, he got in a couple good punches before they were calling us back inside. Broke my glasses for the fifteenth time, I had to retape them. Later on that day, though, I passed her in the hallway and she smiled at me and told me she was sorry she didn’t do anything, and she hoped I was alright.” A nostalgic look passes over his face that inspires a paradox of feelings in Draco: absurd jealousy for Harry’s affections — even in memory — being directed towards anyone but him, and a great swell of tenderness. It seems incredible that somebody with so many horrors in their past can be so soft. “I used to think maybe things would be different in secondary because Dudley was going to a different school than me, but then obviously I went to Hogwarts, so.” He shrugs.

“Did you ever see her again?” Draco asks. Outside the tent, there’s a low, threatening roll of thunder. “After you left primary, I mean?”

“Nope.” One last hit and then Harry’s stubbing it out in his little plastic ashtray. “Be interesting to see what she’s doing now, I s’pose.”

“No lingering one-that-got-away regrets?”

At this, Harry bursts into laughter. “I don’t think so, no. But I’ll let you know if something comes up.”

“You’re cute,” says Draco, grinning down at him.

“Shut up.” Harry lifts his head off the pillow and Draco recognises the gesture, leaning down to kiss him. “Your turn.”

“Right. Let’s see.” He searches his head for something he’s not already divulged, which at this point isn’t much. Harry has gotten out of him in six months of dating more than his parents or any of his friends had done in almost thirty years. His mind jumps from one topic to another, playing word association until he thinks of his old house-elf, whom he now knows had died in Harry’s arms. “Dobby used to play hide-and-seek with me.”

Harry blinks at him. “What?”

“We played hide-and-seek,” Draco repeats, smiling. Dobby is a bit of a sore subject — he supposes he’ll always feel a little guilty for the way they treated him — so it’s one of only a few topics he still hasn’t broached. “When I was under ten or so. My parents were usually busy or just didn’t feel like entertaining me and so Dobby sort of took it upon himself. And I loved hide-and-seek, because the manor had so many good spots.”

“Yeah, I bet,” says Harry. “Sorry, I’m still processing this.” He throws an arm over his eyes, as if he’s trying to picture it, and starts laughing. “Fuck, that’s cute.”

“Shut up. He had me on, too. Started realising I got stroppy if it was too hard so he’d make it easier for me to find him.”

“Ah, Dobby.” Harry drops his arm back to the mattress and looks up at Draco. “Sounds like him. Thought he knew best about everything.”

“Maybe he did.”

Harry nods. “Yep. Maybe he did.”

“I love you, you know,” says Draco. Harry smiles at him. It still gives Draco butterflies.

“How much?”

“Twice as big as all the oceans on earth.”

“Nice,” Harry says, laughing again. “That’s a good one. I love you … bigger than all the biggest mountains put together.”

“Show-off,” says Draco. Harry tugs his arm and he acquiesces, leaning down once more for a kiss. All around them the rain is still beating against their Muggle tent. A new song plays, staticky and soothing, and with his eyes closed and Harry’s hand on his face he commits the moment to memory.

If someone had asked him six months ago what romance meant, he would have cited his first real boyfriend. Paris and expensive dates and grand gestures.

“I want to know you better than I know myself,” Harry said to him once. “And I want you to know me better than I do.”

And Draco thinks now that maybe that’s what romance really is. Not in the gestures but in the blurring of lines and blending of souls.

#anna writes #drarry fic #drarry

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oh-obrien · 11 months

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Red Line (0.2)

Anakin Skywalker

Masterlist

A/N: i love mace windu i just needed him to be a hard ass for the ✨plot✨. My brain was tempted to make this a Anakin x OC x Obi-Wan fic just so y’all know.

Word Count: 5,114

“You know I haven’t actually gotten to talk to you since before you left for your mission on Kessel,” Anakin’s voice didn’t startle Lyra as she had felt him approaching before he even entered the elevator that would take him up to the balcony she had decided to spend the evening on. She watched out of the corner of his eye as he leaned over the railing next to her, looking out into the busy Coruscant night sky. “And the Council just cared about what you accomplished on the mission, they didn’t actually care about how it impacted you so I just got the intel version. They just care about how it helps or hurts the Republic.”

“That’s typically how it goes,” Lyra didn’t spare Anakin a glance as she continued to watch the sky grow darker, traffic having died down significantly in the last half an hour “It’s for the future of the Republic.”

Annakin let out a small laugh and hung his head between his shoulders. “Yeah, it’s for the future of the Republic.” Lyra heard the sarcasm dripping in his voice as she finally turned to face Anakin, her hip resting against the railing she had just been leaning over. Anakin was attractive, everyone knew that, and he carried himself, at least in public, like a true Jedi, it had many fawning over him, the Republic’s future golden boy. Lyra, however, had often got to see the true Anakin when they were younger. The version of Anakin that was critical of the Jedi Order and all of its rules, of the Senate, of every body of authority really. Lyra had very quickly been going down the same path as Anakin, but Master Windu had quashed that, quickly.

Letting out a deep sigh Anakin pushed himself upright before turning to stand in nearly the same position as Lyra. His muscled arms crossed over this board chest and his hip leaning on the railing. “How are you really though, Lyra.” Lyra found herself looking the boy’s features over while she tried to formulate an answer in her head. His hair had gotten longer, but his Padawan braid still hung over his shoulder, and his jawline had begun to sharpen more. His face now contained no traces of the baby fat it still had the first time Lyra had met him; he was much more mature now, a young man really.

“Honestly?” She ran a hand through her hair that she had left down earlier, her fingers tangling in the end of her Padawan braid as they went. She felt her cheeks puff up with air as she slowly let a breath escape.

“Honestly.” Anakin relaxed his stance significantly, his eyes soft as he searched Lyra’s face for any hint of how she was feeling. He wanted to reach out to her, feel how she was feeling, like they did when they were younger, but he didn’t want to overstep any boundaries. The two rarely connected in that way anymore, it had been conditioned out of them throughout their Padawan training; although Obi-Wan tended to be more understanding of Anakin’s feelings than Mace Windu was with Lyra’s feelings.

Anakin’s eyes watched as her top teeth began to chew on her bottom lip, pulling at some of the loose pieces of skin until he saw her flinch once, retracting her teeth and puffing out a deep breath as she licked away the small amount of blood that collected where skin had just been ripped away. Neither of them were ever particularly good with their words. If the order had taught both of them one thing it was to suppress their emotions. “I’m still tired,” her shoulders slouched as she relied on the railing more for support, “and recovering, physically, mentally, kriff I’m even trying to rebuild my bond with the Force. It’s hard, Anakin. I was cut off from everything and everyone I’ve known since I was four, no warning, for two months.”

“I-” but Anakin didn’t know what to say. I’m sorry your Master cut you off from everyone you knew completely for six months and locked you in your room for nearly that entire period. I’m sorry he only let you have supervised conversations with other Padawans until you were fifteen. I’m sorry the moment he was able to, he sent you off planet for a solo mission that just distanced you from everyone even more. There weren’t the proper words for Anakin to express how he felt in the moment.

Anakin did, however, know what used to make both of them feel better after a particularly hard day. He reached into his robes and unclipped his lightsaber from his utility belt, igniting the blade immediately after. For nearly five years the only way Lyra and Anakin had been able to communicate were through their practice duels. After catching the pair leaving Lyra’s room together after The Gathering, Mace Windu immediately took Lyra on as his Padawan, and with that she was cut off from almost the entirety of the outside world. She spent the first six months of her Padawan training locked inside her living quarters, reading and meditating, deepening her connection with the force. Master Windu said she could have no distractions, even when Obi-Wan insisted it would be good for her development to interact with the other Padawans. She had no combat practice and took no classes with the other Padawans. After that six month period, she was only able to interact with other Padawans if one of their Masters were present, and thus continued until well into her fifteenth year, making it nearly impossible to truly form a friendship with anyone. It deterred her from truly being able to understand what attachment was.

Everyone knew that had been Master Windu’s intentions, cut Lyra off from everything she knew so she could truly dedicate her whole being to the Jedi way. It had been a grueling time in her life, and the intended purpose was exactly the outcome that had occurred. Lyra didn’t get close to any of the other Padawans until nearly her sixteenth birthday, and now she had just begun to build friendships.

“Want to finish what you couldn’t earlier?” A wide grin broke out on Lyra’s face as she rather skilfully tied her hair back into a messy bun in a matter of seconds. She unclipped her own lightsaber from her utility belt before igniting one of the blades.

“Both.” Anakin insisted, skilfully twisting his own lightsaber in his hand while he waited for Lyra to ignite the second blade on her’s. If Anakin was anything he was confident in his abilities, sometimes too confident Lyra had managed to discover. His signature little twist he loved to do really just embodied the word ‘cocky’, but it was rather attractive, Lyra had discovered over the years.

She hesitated, watching Anakin carefully, but he nodded in conformation. Lyra closed her eyes and sucked in a deep breath while she ignited the second blade on her lightsaber. “You don’t need to fight clean, Anakin,” she took up a defensive stance. “I- I need this right now.” Of course, Anakin already knew that. She needed a distraction, she needed someone who could help remind her who she was, what she was capable of.

Anakin lunged first, his lightsaber making contact with Lyra’s and the all too familiar sound of the blades connecting spiked the adrenaline already coursing through both of their bodies. While Lyra was strong from her years of training, Anakin was six feet and two inches of pure brute strength. Unlike many of the other well built Padawans though, Anakin didn’t rely on his strength to help him win duels, he relied on his skill and ability to connect with the force; his physical strength only enhanced those natural abilities. He was truly a force to be reckoned with, and most other Jedi knew that, which is why his pool of dueling opponents had grown rather small as not many others could keep up with him. Lyra, however, had always been at the top of the list.

Lyra skilfully turned away from Anakin managing to face his back but she wasn’t able to complete her attack, the older boy quickly blocking her swing behind his back. They continued fighting for quite some time, the only sound filling the patio being their lightsabers connecting and their heavy, ragged breathing. They both moved gracefully, almost as if they were dancing, attacks and counterattacks flowing cleanly into one another, their lightsabers simply acting as extensions of their limbs. Each move was carefully calculated, appearing nearly choreographed, any onlooker would be entranced by their dance.

Eventually though, Anakin was able to gain the upper hand, Lyra was growing tired and sloppy and he took his opportunity to truly gain the upper hand when it presented itself to him. In less than a second Anakin saw Lyra’s grip loosen on her lightsaber, enough so that he was able to swipe at one of her blades with his own when her grip was nearly non-existent. The motion sent Lyra’s weapon clattering to the floor and the girl in question tumbled back to the ground bracing her fall with both of her hands. “I made up for earlier,” Anakin’s blade hovered at Lyra’s side, nearly grazing her robes, and she let out a defeated sigh, using her Force abilities to deliver her lightsaber back to her hand, both of the blades turning off as she did so.

“Yeah,” Lyra felt her breath stutter as Anakin turned off his lightsaber, still standing above her. His arms were now crossed over this broad chest and his feet were set shoulder width apart. He embodied what a Jedi was supposed to be, and the fact that Lyra could compete with him, could best him at times, it made her truly believe at times that she was not actually weak. “You made up for earlier,” Lyra pushed herself up onto her elbows and Anakin uncrossed his arms, offering Lyra a hand to help her up.

Lyra looked at the hand that was being offered to her and hesitated momentarily, she could just reach out and grasp Anakin’s hands, it was right in front of her. Human contact of any kind had been conditioned out of Lyra for the past six years, the only time she had any hands other than her own on her body had been to patch up any injuries she couldn’t take care of herself; which tended to be few and far between. “Oh come on,” Anakin extended his hand out even further and Lyra let out a small huff, finally reaching her own hand out.

Anakin’s hand was warm so incredibly warm, Lyra wanted to jerk her own hand away, not used to human contact feeling so intimate. The hands of the medical droids were usually cold and metal, not even truly human as they patched her injuries; other than the droids the last person she had skin to skin contact with was Master Windu. Lyra had managed to slice her leg open from the top of her ankle around to the back of her knee when trying to escape a rather hostile group of Spice traders while on, what was supposed to be, an intel gathering mission in the Underworld.

Her leg had gotten caught on a jagged piece of glass while trying to follow her Master out of a broken window to escape an onslaught of blaster fire. However, in the process she had snagged herself on a broken piece of glass still attached to the window and obtained a nasty cut. Master Windu had been able to quickly patch her leg up before the pair had to continue moving, to avoid being caught.

Mace Windu’s hands had moved quick and had a mission in mind, but Anakin’s hand? His hand was warm and his touch was familiar. Even after Lyra had been pulled to a standing position their hands remained clasped together. The last time Lyra had felt Anakin’s hands he had been twelve and she had been ten, now at eighteen and sixteen the pair found themselves barely a foot apart with their hands clasped together in the small amount of space separating them. Their force signatures reached out to each other, trying to find comfort in one another after years of forced separation. Their force signatures used to have no qualms about intertwining, wrapping around one another at any chance they were given. Now though, they hesitated to mingle, both Jedi unknowingly holding back from the other.

“Anakin!” Lyra dropped his hand quickly, as if he had burnt her with only his touch, at the sound of Obi-Wan’s voice. “Ahh Lyra too, perfect!” Obi-Wan didn’t even seem to consider questioning how close together the two padawans stood, he just continued to make his way toward them R2 trialing not far behind. “You’re needed in the council chambers immediately,” Obi-Wan turned to Lyra as he spoke, his words clearly intended for her. Lyra let out a small groan knowing that meant she’d likely be sent out on another mission. Obi-Wan didn’t seem frantic, meaning it wasn’t necessarily an emergency, but it was clear that her presence was needed in front of the council as soon as possible.

“I’ll head down momentarily,” Lyra tried to keep her composure as she untied her hair from the rather messy knot she had put it in, running her fingers through it to make it appear more presentable. “I’d assume that means I’m being sent to Kessel again already.” She’d barely had time to recover from her last trip, she wasn’t quite sure how she’d fair on another two month trip away from the Temple with no one going with her. Obi-Wan didn’t respond, only offering a half-hearted smile to Lyra who began straightening her robes out.

Obi-Wan cocked his head to the side slightly as he caught Anakin’s eyes rather focused on Lyra while she adjusted her utility belt. “Anakin you are also needed in the council’s Chambers. They requested both of you.” Lyra let out a quiet sigh while she pulled on her cloak, a dark blue material that she had gotten much pushback from Mace about the first time she had it. Her Master had complained it was too colorful, it would be seen as an act of defiance by the council to wear the material. Pretending she hasn’t heard her Master, Lyra simply walked out of her chambers with the cloak on and the dark blue had become a staple color in most of her outfits.

“Sending two Padawan’s on potentially deadly missions at the same time, incredibly intelligent,” Lyra huffed as she looked toward Anakin. “You coming, Skywalker?”

“Yeah,” Anakin shook his head and cleared his throat, “yeah I am.” Obi-Wan crossed his arms over his chest while he watched his Padawan and Lyra depart the outdoor training area. R2 beeped from next to Obi-Wan and he laughed lightly, placing a hand on the droid’s head.

“Yes R2, we’re heading that way as well. I’m just thinking for a moment.” The droid let out another series of beeps. “Yes, yes they are R2.” Obi-Wan let out a small sigh as he and R2 began to head to the Council chambers themselves.

*-*-*-*

“With all due respect Master,” Lyra turned to face Master Windu, “I don’t think it’s smart to send both of us on this mission together, and that’s absolutely not me discrediting Anakin’s skills or ability to succeed.” Lyra and Anakin stood in front of the High Council, the half-moon of the most powerful Jedi suddenly becoming somewhat intimidating as she tried to make her voice heard. She’d spent the past two sessions attending council meetings, getting to know them on a more personal level, but she just felt small standing directly in front of them.

“And why would that be?” Master Kit Fisto’s voice reached Lyra’s ears and she turned to face him. “I feel that Skywalker and yourself are more than qualified to take on this mission.”

Lyra took a moment to center herself as she did not want to lash out at any of the council members, knowing it would not been seen as an appropriate use of her emotions. “Master Fisto, again with all due respect I nearly died twice while I was on Kessel last time I was there, and that was over the course of two months while my identity was incredibly well concealed. What happens this time?”

Nearly died. Anakin hadn’t been privy to the knowledge that Lyra had nearly been killed twice while she was on Kessel, “and the second time was by Jedi Knights that you yourselves sent to trey and break up the Spice ring,” Anakin tuned back into the conversation and Lyra’s voice again filled his ears. He saw that Obi-Wan was watching him carefully, giving his Padawan a small nod when they made eye contact.

“We told you that your safety could not be guaranteed on the previous mission my Padawan.” Mace Windu now spoke; Anakin felt as Lyra metaphorically dug her heels in, her force signature instantly becoming more centered and more grounded. It was a tactic that Obi-Wan had taught him to help become more centered before a fight, meaning that Lyra clearly saw this conversation as more of a fight than a conversation.

“And why wouldn’t any of you suggest informing the Jedi that you had sent to infiltrate a Spice ring that you had one of your own undercover inside!” Her voice raised significantly just within that single sentence. “If you told them who was undercover I very easily could have avoided being nearly sliced in half by a lightsaber!”

“Wise of you to control your emotions would it be. Yes?” Master Yoda now spoke up. “In the fight did we expect you not,” Yoda let out a short hum as he nodded.

Lyra looked to Obi-Wan, her eyes almost pleading for support. However, this was a decision he had been outvoted and outranked on. He had been a strong opponent of sending Lyra and Anakin, the two most powerful Padawans the temple had, on this mission together, but no matter how hard he argued to keep the two away from Kessel, other members of the council just pushed back harder. “Yourself and my Padawan leave in two days time.” It was the only response Obi-Wan was able to offer in the moment, but Lyra felt the wave of comforting energy that Obi-Wan sent her way.

“It isn’t safe! What’s Anakin’s cover going to be? Oh this is my brother, my made up diplomat father won’t realize either of us are gone don’t worry. It’s not going to work.” Anakin had never expected that Lyra of all people would speak up against the council in that manner, being so openly defiant was frowned upon and seen as disrespectful. Anakin stood in shock next to his fellow Padawan, he was unsure what he should say or if he should say anything at all.

“Anakin will pose as your lover,” Ki-Adi-Mundi spoke up, “it’s the most realistic role we could approach the situation with.” Master Ki-Adi-Munda didn’t see phased in the least by Lyra’s reaction. “You escaped the Jedi Assault to Tatooine, there you met Anakin who was working as a moisture farmer and you fell in love. He wished to return to Kessel with you to join the Spice ring to try and make a more prosperous life.”

“I’d assume your previous injury is healed?” Master Windu squinted at Lyra who had her arms crossed tightly over her chest. She felt the anger inside of her beginning to bubble over and likely knew she would be scolded by her master later, but she was in too deep with this argument to back out now.

She took in a deep breath and glanced around the half circle before speaking. “My previous injury healed as best it could given the level of medical attention I received and the speed at which it was delivered.”

“We would like to see what remains to ensure that your story and what the other Spice traders saw would properly fit what remains.” It was Obi-Wan who spoke this time. The council knew that their request to see her scars would likely be met with pushback, and having the council member she trusted the most make that request would lessen just how much push back they received. It was disgusting really.

Anakin began to feel Lyra’s force signature fill with discomfort and pure sadness, he wanted to reach out with his own and comfort her, but he knew that the council would feel it as well. Instead he opted instead to take a step closer to her and he saw her cheeks fill with air as she began to undo her utility belt. She let it clatter loudly to the floor as she shrugged off her cloak as well, the blue fabric crumbling into a ball on top of her belt.

Anakin watched as her hands shook, moving to the bottom of her tunic and the top of her pants waistband. She hadn’t fought the council on this matter, only accepted they would need to see her previous injury before making any further determinations. Standing next to Lyra, Anakin was unable to get a clear view of what remained as she separated the fabric and put a thin band of skin on display. He didn’t need to see the remains of her injury to know how gruesome it must have been. Obi-Wan’s eyes widened as she saw the exposed flesh and Anakin would have sworn he saw tears gathering in his Master’s eyes. Lyra slowly turned so that the remainder of the High Council could see her scar and Anakin found himself unable to look away from the exposed strip of skin. A dark pink and angry scar stretched from hip bone to hip bone and looked as if it never properly healed, the skin still looked sensitive and raw, like a wrong movement would tear it open again. “I hope my injuries meet your expectations,” Lyra pulled her waistband back up and tugged her tunic down, shrugging her cloak on and picking up her utility belt and slinging it over her shoulder haphazardly. “I’ll be on the launch deck in two days time.” Lyra didn’t wait to be dismissed before she turned and walked out of the High Council’s chambers with a slight twitch in her hand the door opened and closed behind her.

Anakin was left standing somewhat dumbfounded in the center of the center of High Council chambers. “Trust you we do, Young Skywalker.” Master Yoda gave Anakin a small nod. “Successful you will be.” Anakin swallowed and nodded once.

“Thank you, Master Yoda.” He wanted to speak up and say something on Lyra’s behalf but he wasn’t quite sure what to say. He knew that he and Lyra were expected to begin completing the trials soon, but the pushback Lyra was giving them likely meant that the council may reevaluate her ability to complete the trials and her ability to control her emotions.

“You are dismissed, Skywalker,” Master Windu let out a deep sigh as he let Anakin know he was free to go. “May the force be with you.”

“May the force be with you as well Masters.” As soon as Anakin exited the High Council’s chambers he reached out to try and find Lyra’s force signature. However, she was blocking him out and she was doing a damn good job at it. Anakin found his feet leading him back to where he and Lyra had dueled before Obi-Wan had found them and told the pair that they were needed in the counsel chambers. No one often left the temple at night, most Jedi took the evenings to meditate and unwind and very few used the evenings for anything except that.

“Ani, I really don’t want to talk about it.” Lyra spoke into the chilly night air once she felt Anakin reach the space. She leaned over the railing again, both her arms hanging freely and her head rested on the cool metal. Anakin could tell she was distressed, embarrassed, angry, she rather thoroughly felt nearly every emotion that could be considered negative. Her robes had been straightened out and her utility belt sat clipped around her waist, it seemed like she never even had shown the council what remained of her old injury.

Anakin, as he had earlier that evening, approached the railing to the balcony and rested his forearms on the metal, hanging his head between his shoulders while he let the silence linger between them. “I don’t need you to talk about it, but it would be nice to know what I’m getting myself into.” He heard Lyra release a deep sigh as she let her head rest on the railing for a few more moments before standing up straighter.

“If I’m talking about this we’re going to the Cantina,” Lyra pushed away from the railing and began to walk towards the entrance back into the Temple, “you coming or what, Skywalker?”

“But we, I can’t-” Anakin stumbled over his words.

Lyra laughed lightly before looking over her shoulder at Anakin. “I’m emotionally unstable and they’re practically sending us on a suicide mission in two days,” Lyra cocked her head slightly to the side, “I promise no one is going to stop us form leaving the Temple tonight. If it would make you feel better I can ask Obi-Wan if he’d like to accompany us.”

“You can- Obi-Wan?” Anakin thought about his Master accompanying both of them on an unapproved trip to the cantina most likely in the underworld, and it didn’t sound all that logical.

“Yeah,” Lyra let a small smile stretch across his lips, “Obi-Wan and I sneak out to the cantina fairly often.” She saw Anakin’s face fall as he realized his own Master had never asked him to accompany them to the cantina. “It’s never something that you’d want to go with us for, emotions we shouldn’t be experiencing that we try to drink away, and all that,” she dismissively waved her hand and grabbed her comlink out of the pocket of her robes.

Obi-Wan’s hologram appears a second later, clearly inside his chambers, likely trying to decompress after the rather stressful counsel meeting. “Ahh Master Kenobi!” Lyra spoke as she walked to Anakin’s side. “I was just about to fill Anakin in on my last mission to Kessel at Moshi if you’d like to meet us there.” Anakin watched as Obi-Wan lifted his head from where he had been taking off his boots.

“I can meet the two of you there in about,” he paused for a moment, clearly thinking, “thirty. I’d rather not leave the temple as a group. That would likely draw too much attention.”

“You’ve got it, Master!” Lyra’s smile grew into more of a smirk as the comlink call ended, “you ready for this one Skywalker? Because I’m not sure if you are.”

*-*-*-*

Walking into Moshi Lyra pulled her hood down and Anakin followed not far behind, the bar seemed somewhat crowded and most of the tables were taken. Lyra nodded towards an empty booth and Anakin took that as his sign to claim the table as Lyra approached the bar. “My favorite Jedi!” Tiggs Leo greeted Lyra at the bar, still mixing drinks as he spoke to her, “no tab for you tonight!” He slid three drinks down the bar to waiting patrons. “You came with a new Jedi, is Obi-Wan not joining you?”

Lyra found her eyes skimming over the bottles of alcohol behind Tiggs as he spoke. “That’s Anakin, Obi-Wan’s Padawan,” she elaborated, “Obi-Wan will be joining us shortly.”

“Ahh! Excellent! What can I get started for you then?” Tiggs put down the bottles he had been holding previously and directed his attention towards Lyra. She glanced over her shoulder to see Anakin looking around the space rather uncomfortably.

Tapping her finger on the bar counter Lyra thought about what Anakin may like; she was unsure if he’d ever been to a catania before. He looked rather surprised when she had mentioned it earlier, but he was older than her and Obi-Wan, of all people, was his Master for Kriff’s sake. “A blumfruit cooler, cassandran brandy and a courkrus lomin.” Tiggs was making the drinks before Lyra even had the chance to finish ordering.

“I hope whatever you ordered me isn’t a surprise.” Obi-Wan must have arrived while she had been ordering drinks. He had changed into more casual robes than he had been in at the council meeting and his cloak had been shrugged off and crumpled next to him in the booth. Following suit, Lyra shrugged off her own cloak and slid into the booth next to Anakin.

“A cassandran brandy for the Jedi Master,” Tiggs approached the booth and slid Obi-Wan his drink. He gratefully accepted the glass and took a small sip as soon as he received it. “A blumfruit cooler for my favorte Jedi customer, and I would assume the courkrus lomin is for the newcomer,” Tiggs set the final glass in front of Anakin. “As soon as you’re ready for another round just let me know the order!”

As Tiggs slinked back behind the bar Lyra switched her glass and Anakin’s. “You’ll like it,” she offered him the glass, picking up her own and drinking nearly half of it on the first sip. “Tiggs is adding our tab to the senate’s again,” Lyra smirked at Obi-Wan over the rim of her glass.

Obi-Wan tilted her glass towards Lyra and Anakin, “I’ll drink to that.” He lifted his own class and took a slow sip. “And I’ll drink to that kriffing Council meeting being over.” Obi-Wan quickly knocked back the remainder of his first drink and Tiggs almost immediately brought over another one. “For the record, sending both of you, either of you, to Kessel was not my idea. I was just outvoted on the issue.”

“I guessed,” Lyra finished her own first drink and pushed it towards the end of the table, indicating that she too was ready for a second. “I’m here to fill Ani in though on my last mission to Kessel, figured it might be umm, helpful insight.” Lyra and Obi-Wan hadn’t included Anakin in on the conversation yet and he was beginning to feel rather left out.

“Oh you need to finish the rest of your drink for this one, Anakin.” Obi-Wan addressed his Padawan, “and then maybe another one or two after that.”

#anakin #anakin skywalker #anakin imagine #anakin skywalker imagine #star wars imagine #anakin skywalker fanfiction #anakin skywalker x oc #anakin x oc #anna writes #star wars fanfiction #obi wan kenobi #obi-wan

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angelkissiies · 1 year

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close call | abby x reader x ellie | blurb

better yet, how could you not love them?

joel hesitated, his eyes momentarily darting from you to the girls who sat unknowingly at the center of attention across the room, and for once- things finally started adding up. “well, sure.” he began, nodding along as he spoke. “i mean, at one point it wasn’t believed that our bodies could hold so much water. people used to say that, that was too much- but it ended up being true. so, how can we deny the ability for our bodies to hold that much love?”

#anna writes #tlou series #tlou #tlou2 #tlou hbo #tlou part 2 #abby x reader x ellie #tlou abby #abby anderson ff #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams #ellie williams x you #abby anderson x you #joel miller #abby anderson #polyamory

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joaquinwhorres · 8 months

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Writing for Harry Potter

I've received a few asks on here and some messages on AO3 + FFN asking if I've abandoned my HP fics or if I still write for Harry Potter over the past few months and up until now, I really didn't know how to answer that.

The Author of the Series worked really hard to kill my love of the series with her heinous views on trans-people and active participation in spreading transphobia and lobbying for anti-trans policies. How can I possibly work in a world created by such a person?

On the other hand, my experiences reading Harry Potter as a child and teen and young adult are what shaped me into who I am today. It taught me the very lessons that make me stand against The Author. It inspired me to write and sparked a lasting love for literature. It bonded me with some of my closest friends.

As I've considered what to do with my stories and interaction with the fandom, I've come to the following decisions for myself.

I am still writing for the stories I have created. I adore my characters and their stories and consider them founded in the beliefs that would oppose The Author. I am working to make the world more diversified and to call out the (for lack of better word) problematic things she has included in the text. That said, I will not be creating new characters or plot lines outside of what I already have.

I will not support The Author. I will not buy their new video games. I will not go to their upcoming movies or watch any reviews. I will not be on their website or whatever. I got rid of a lot of my Harry Potter merch and will not be buying any more.

I will be reminding everyone of how awful The Author is. At the top of each masterlist and work I will include links to a deep dive into the harm The Author has done to the trans community and places you can donate to support those she's harmed or stand against her policies.

Harry Potter means a lot to me personally, more than I feel comfortable sharing online, and because of that I am working to be a critical participant in its fandom. I could still walk away in the future, but this is where I'm at now.

As such, if you have stepped away from the fandom completely, I commend and respect your decision and will happily remove you from my tag lists. If you still write for the fandom actively, I support you and your decision (as long as you're able to at the end of the day say with your whole chest, "Fuck The Author.")

#harry potter #writing for harry potter #harry potter fandom #hp fandom #anti-jkr #fuck jkr #series: the fool #series: palm to palm #series: crooked wood #anna writes #writing for hp #hp ocs #harry potter ocs

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drowning-in-cacophony · 6 months

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trick or treat!!

Some maiko from a little sci-fi au I've been exploring this year:

Zuko doesn’t look at her, or at least he doesn’t move to do so immediately, so Mai takes the opportunity to look at him. Study him. She’s never been in a ship with him before. When would they have had the chance, with him gone and her elsewhere too? Ty Lee is all about silver linings; perhaps this is one of them. Treason to bring her a chance to watch him pilot. He’s always talked about it with such fondness, faint as it was by the allowances of their nation.

From the ask box trick or treat

#atla #maiko #anna answers #anna writes #thank you for the ask! <3

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rainteaanddragons · 10 months

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The Honourable Option

Wuvvy doesn’t follow Hob and Rue toward the end of the archway.

Hob takes a chance, making a decision that he might not have otherwise needed to.

Rue realises something and makes it known.

A canon divergence of the angsty painful kind.

Suntar’s scream is engulfed by the sound of the storm swirling outside as she sees her comrade dead upon the floor. Hob’s Halberd still stuck in his chest. She whips around to face Hob anger burning in her eyes as she states her command in his head.

Kill them all.

Hob feels the spell like a drop of rainwater in the middle of his scalp which splatters then spreads down throughout his whole body. He feels as his intentions cloud over as the command does its work and his control is sucked into a pocket of his mind.

With a few taps to his legs, a clap of his claws, and a slap to his forehead – a goblin salute – words are pulled from his mouth that are his own but not of his own will.

“You’ve got it.”

He knows now that this command, just like any other, is one he will carry out to fruition.

“Uhh, Major Hob?” Squak questions.

It is not of his own will that he wrenches the Halberd from Apollos chest and turns on Squak. Hob finds himself screaming internally, stuck in his own mind as he turns on his friend. He finds himself thankful at least that Squak has the ingeniousness to use Apollo’s corpse as a shield, as with every swing, his strength to fight against the spell weakens.

Hob knows that he shouldn’t be able to fight this like he is. Suntar’s mind must be on so many things for him to be able to think for himself at all – even if he cannot control his limbs. It is at this point though, that Hob hear’s footsteps, as Rue catches up and enters the room. and he has never been so thankful that the spells hold on him is as weak as it’s become.

“Major Hob?” Their voice sounds reproachful, but through that, their tone is confused. “Knickolas!”

Then they speak again, louder this time, and Hob feels as their voice pierces fog of the spell, but only for a heart-breaking moment as they use his first name. He can’t react at first, the magic of Suntar’s spell wanting a close on Squak first, before turning on another. Then as Rue starts to work their own arcane magic on the portal, the spell turns his attention, and his gaze locks squarely on Rue.

Hob turns, and with every ounce of effort trying to fight his own strength, he raises his weapon to strike then-

“He was mine to control!” Suntar screams in fury.

In that moment, Hob feels Suntar’s hold on the spell weaken, only for a second, but it is just enough time for Hob to take control. With Rue still in his sights, he knows exactly what he has to do. The only thing that will save them.

~ ~ ~

Rue hears the sharp clink of glass shattering on concrete, and then the soft thump of a body hits the ground, but they can’t look, not yet. Still focused on the arcane power they are pouring from themself into the archway. They would be lying though if they said they didn’t think that they had a sinking feeling they knew what had just occurred.

As they turn their head towards the source of the sound, Chirp enters the room at a run. Rue’s gaze is torn, but as the last of their arcane power fades, the reality of what they see turns their attention away from Chirp as she begins to work her own arcane power on the archway.

Hob is now lying on the ground, one clawed hand inches away from a small shattered vial. A vial Rue recognises to be from the tea party earlier in the bloom. Hob is shaking, his clawed fists clenched, and he is gritting his teeth in what could only be pain.

Rue’s attention is completely taken by the sight of Hob on the ground. So much so that even Binx and Andhera’s arrival is only a blur in the foreground as they kneel next to Hob.

“Hob.” Rue manages to speak, still not sure how to react to the scene before their eyes. Moments ago they had been in a heated conversation with Hob, one in which they had spoken their feelings towards him plainly, but had accepted that with the revelations beforehand that there was no way Hob felt the same way. Were Rue’s feelings still strong, still true? Yes. But had Hobs words hit hard? Of course. Not enough so though, for Rue to not want to do something, anything. “Knickolas!” They then try, but there is no response. Hob can only rasp for breath.

Anger flairs in Rue as they realise what Hob had done. They didn’t need saving, in no world would they ever need saving, yet that is what Hob had taken upon himself to do. Did they appreciate the gesture and what it may mean? Of course, but what could they do to do the same in return for him. They had poured all their arcane power into keeping the portal open.

Rue’s attention is pulled momentarily towards the duel currently going on between Suntar and Andhera, though from what it seems, there is now more talking than fighting. Anger bubbles again somewhere in Rue’s chest as they stand and walk over to the pair. They are standing in silence now, Suntar takes a step back and a dark cloud forms behind her.

With a shout and a flash of light Chirp counters Suntar’s attempt to leave.

Rue stops up, the image of Hob’s shaking body still on the ground vivid in their mind. “You really shouldn’t have done that. You shouldn’t have done any of that.” Rue then puts all of their energy into shoving Suntar into the now permanently open archway.

Rue then turns, and moves slowly to kneel next to Hob again. They cradle a claw to Hobs fury cheek. Through their deep focus on Hob’s form, Rue notices as Andhera kneels on Hob’s other side.

“What happened?”

“Suntar, she cast some sort of control magic on magic on him. He was trying to kill Lord Airavis, then his attention turned to me as I started to work on the archway.”

In the momentary silence, there didn’t seem to be a need as to why Hob might have done what he did in that moment.

“That’s one of the vials from the tea party.” Rue added numbly.

“The poison?” Andhera clarifies.

“The poison.”

Andhera reaches out and gently rests his hands on Hob’s chest. “Then I can cleanse him of it.”

Moments later Hob lets out a rasping gasp and his eyes snap open as he sits up. “Oh, ughhh, that was, that- not nice. Horrid, in fact, and goblins consume all matter of, uhh, strange flavours.” He coughs, then stares around. “So, it seems it worked then.”

“Worked?” Rue mutters to themself. “Worked?” They repeat, louder this time. Their anger bubbling over once more. “If almost getting yourself killed was your plan, then yes, it worked! If the Prince Andhera hadn’t been here then you would be dead, and where would we be then? Where would I be with the knowledge that you drank that poison at the first chance you got once you realised what might happen. Not what would happen, but what might happen. You talk of honour, Major Hob, and of acts of servitude, but what you did could only be described as selfish.” Rue pauses for breath. Allowing themself time to take in Hob’s shocked, and almost bashful expression. They wonder for a moment if they might have taken it too far, but only for a moment.

“Rue, I-” Hob begins, his voice rough. “I apologise, for what I put you through, I did not think.”

“No, you did not.”

“In my defence,” Hob starts, then pauses, as if rearranging his thoughts. “In my defence, I could not lived with myself if I had done you any harm.”

Rue isn’t sure what to respond to that. They stare at Hob in a new light. His gentle expression, with all his attention locked on them. He hadn’t looked at them like that before.

“So you took yourself out.”

Hob takes a deep breath, then blows it out through his nose. “I could see no other way.”

“Next time, trust that the outcome, whatever that may be, would never justify your death.”

“I-”

“Even,” Rue interrupts, “at the cost of my life. I can look after myself.” They then sigh, and offer Hob a small smile, “You are welcome to look after me, Knickolas, but only if it isn’t at the cost of your own life.”

Hob clears his throat. “I am sure I can manage that.”

“You better.”

I am still emotional about these two and this whole show! So I wrote something that made me more emotional 😅🥺

#dimension 20 #a court of fey and flowers #ruehob #d20 acofaf #acofaf #knickolas pnackleless hob #delloso de la rue #tw suicide attempt #I followed the initiative order as close as possible with this #I am pedantic as hell #not sure if I really needed to beyond the canon part but still #it felt right #anna writes #Anna writes d20 #fma

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rereadanon · 1 year

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Happy birthday Ian Gallagher! 🎉

Here is Mickey Milkovich delivering a very good birthday for his husband!

Or start from the beginning- 27

#I am going to throw up I am so nervous #birthday boy!#gallavich fanfic #anna writes #thanks to everyone that has gassed me up!!

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shame-is-a-wasted-emotion · 2 months

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Chapter 4 of 14 Stones Of A Curse is up!!

Chapter 4: Ruby Rendezvous (on AO3)

Fic Title:14 Stones Of A Curse

Rating:Explicit

Archive Warning:Major Character Death

Category:M/M

Fandoms:Glee,Glee Klaine,Klaine-Fandom

Relationship:Blaine Anderson/Kurt Hummel

Characters:

Blaine Anderson,Kurt Hummel,Burt Hummel,Sebastian Smythe,Finn Hudson,Sam Evans (Glee)

Chapter summary : Ruby ignites the fiery story of trust and friendship: seeds for the growing bright flame of love

You can read the rest of the chapters here 👇

Chapter 1: Prologue

Chapter 2: Opal Odyssey

Chapter 3: Zircon Zephyr

Written for the Klaie Valentine’s challenge 2024 by @klaineccfanficlibrary

Shout out to my betas @esperantoauthor and @england-would-fall for their unwavering support and editing. Thank you guys!!

Prompt of day 3: Sh-Boom by The Chords

#kurt hummel #blaine anderson #klainevalentines2024 #klaineccfanficlibrary #blaine and kurt #klaine fanfic #klaine fanfiction #anna writes #lgbtq #glee #day three #Sh-Boom by the chords #the chords #ruby gemstone

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sailxrmxrs · 4 days

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hello i really love your writing! if you're taking requests, i've been thinking about the infinite blue boys in a typical office setting with the MC and what that would be like? thank you!!~

this has been sat in my inbox for SO LONG I AM SO SORRY TO THE PERSON WHO REQUESTED THIS SDKFDGS but!! better later than never right??? right?????? anyway now is the perfect time to finally get around to this bc my brain has been so occupied lately playing sympathy kiss so office based otome is right at the forefront of my mind hehe. it's like it was meant to be. ALSO thank u so much!! i don't think too much about what i write after it's been posted so i forget people actually look at it sometimes sksjfkf TY FOR REQUESTING THIS WAS LOVELY TO THINK ABOUT also incredibly funny looking at the last post of me being like 'i want to get back to writing more regularly!!' as if i didn't slink back into the shadows again for four months this was also the first thing i've written since getting my new keyboard which is really taking some getting used to especially with nails dsklfsg still, enjoy office time gamers o7

♡ leo ♡

Leo definitely seems like the type to bring the energy to his office department, especially on a Monday morning when everyone wants nothing more than to have had just one more day to spend at home before work started all over again for another week. He'd be the only one with a spring in his step as he went about his morning, filling his water bottle, getting situated at his desk. Speaking of his desk, Leo's workspace would be the definition or organised chaos. Post-it notes are scattered across the bottom of his monitor, there's a pile of loose sheets covered in haphazard notes scrawled across them, and there are definitely more than a few pens with no ink left strewn across the desk. They also happen to be mixed in with perfectly usable pens so Leo would have to scramble for a pen when someone from another department came to brief him on a project he was working on. Every time, without fail, he is grabbing pens and scribbling on a notepad until he finds one that works enough to make notes clear enough for him to reference later on. You ask each time why he doesn't just go through and throw away the empty pens to which Leo jokingly scoffs about how he finds the right pens first time every time. He does not.

He's very much the epitome of a work best friend. Someone who will text you on the weekend like 'I know we spend every day sat next to each other but can we hang out together pls'. He enjoys your company okay!! You are very fun and he wants you to know that!! Will find himself getting into a bit of trouble for getting distracted talking about weekend plans with you but can you blame him? It's a Friday afternoon and his brain has logged off. Unfortunately for Leo, despite his brain having logged off, his computer is very much logged in so he has to force himself to keep going for that last stretch of hours between him and the weekend. Will whine and complain to you about how Fridays should be half days which, given Leo's usual demeanour at the start of the week, is an amusing shift in tone. Cut to a couple of hours later and Leo is shutting down his computer the second the clock ticks over to 5pm. He'll swing his chair around to face you, staring you down until you finally close everything down to get ready to leave. Think puppy watching and waiting for you to take them on a walk. Sometimes if you have plans for the Friday evening, he'll offer to pick you up on the way to work to save you the drive too. Also because it gives him an excuse for being late like oh no there was just so much traffic leaving their place I definitely did not stop for coffee on the way here not at all!! He absolutely did but don't worry he didn't forget to pick up your favourite order too~

I think Leo would be a really good motivator in the office too. If a day was going particularly bad, or if a really busy period struck he would be the perfect person to help keep your mood in balance. He's very encouraging for you to step away from your desk. Take a break, have a drink, maybe get a little snack to energise yourself. But he doesn't do it to distract you nor does he overstep any boundaries. He will offhandedly comment on how hard you've been working and make a gentle suggestion that a break is needed. He'd also offer to lend a hand if there was anything particularly pressing that was weighing you down. Try and say no. Try it. Never works. Leo's always happy to help because he knows you would do the same for him and have previously done so in the past when he was newer to the job and hadn't quite gotten his bearings yet. He makes the long days pass by quicker. Truly the best person to work with.

♡ milo ♡

Milo is absolutely that one coworker who keeps to himself a lot and develops this really cool and mysterious reputation. No one really knows what he does for work and no one ever asks him either because they're a little too intimidated to talk to him. It's not that he's had any particularly bad run-ins with anyone else in the office but more so that he no one really knows a whole lot about him. Any conversations about his weekend plans or what he did the evening prior are met with the most normal responses someone could muster. He's going grocery shopping, he's visiting family, he stayed in last night to watch tv. No one knows anything about his life outside of work and no one's bumped into him anywhere but in the office. The only reason people don't speculate that he lives there is because they see him drive in and park in the same spot at the same time each morning. Him keeping to himself isn't really an antisocial thing, but more so that he's there to work so would rather just get on with whatever he has to do with minimal distractions. He's an efficient man and doesn't like people stealing his attention away from any sort of deadline.

Then along comes this slight change in the office layout and suddenly your desk has been moved directly next to his. Surprise had left you stunned for a moment when Milo greeted you that first morning before sitting down and getting himself set up for the working day. He still never offered much conversation, just the usual 'good morning' and 'have a good evening' as you both left the office. It wasn't until you both stayed behind a little late one Friday evening to finish some paperwork before the weekend and he'd stricken up a conversation while walking back to your cars. It was mostly small talk, nothing of too much substance, but it was far more than he gave anyone else. If you ask, he simply answers that until the clock hits around 5pm, he's at work. Once he's left the office building, he's just normal Milo again. It's his way of separating work and his personal life. Honestly, his work/life balance is enviable.

Over time, as you grow closer, he'll start to chat more during office hours. Asking what you thought of a recent episode of a show, if you'd seen the news about an upcoming game. And your closeness wouldn't go unnoticed. You'll get coworkers whispering to you on your lunch break asking to share some information since they'd barely seen Milo speak with anyone else so openly before. You'd always politely decline, telling them he never really shared anything special and it was mostly just work related things—a white lie, of course, but what they didn't know didn't hurt them. Milo would appreciate it too, often voicing his complaints about the busybodies in the office not so subtly whispering about him. He didn't care too much about their speculations of him until they started dragging you into it too. Grumpy Milo grumbling into his coffee cup asking why they cared so much anyway. Who cares who he speaks to at work (He cares. But he won't tell you that).

♡ rory ♡

Rory at any given moment in time will take the opportunity to complain about something that has happened in the office that day. Whether it's someone not submitting documents on time or somebody emailing him with any extra set of tasks on top of his already stacked workload, he will be sending you a string of messages to blow off some steam. The first time it'd happened, you were sitting in the break room enjoying your lunch when Rory slumped into the chair next to you and signed so heavily you thought something terrible had happened and he was barely keeping himself together. As it had turned out, a new intern had done something without running it by anyone else first and caused a particularly big problem. One that Rory's manager decided would be his responsibility to resolve before the day's end. As well as meet his own deadlines for the same evening. To say he was stressed was an understatement. So Rory had taken solace in your quiet presence and let out his frustrations. Once he'd gotten it all out of his system, he apologised for the outburst and introduced himself, realising the two of you had never actually spoken before. He then offered to lend a listening ear for your own work annoyances, attentively taking it all in while you spoke. Once your lunch break came to an end, you exchanged contacts with the promise that you could be each other's dedicated work therapist whenever someone or something had pissed you off.

From that point on, you'd receive the odd message here and there throughout the day from Rory with the latest complaint. At first, it was just a way to get the annoyances off your chests but as time went on, conversations started to meander and before long you were becoming closer and closer. You didn't see each other much while working—only ever in passing if you needed to deliver a document to a different department or if there was a meeting you needed to attend. Your texts were your main point of contact with Rory until he suggested you start coordinating your lunch breaks so that you could actually hang out face-to-face rather than via text message. Coworkers would definitely start to speculate how and why these two individuals from completely different departments became friends or if there was something more to the relationship. Especially considering Rory, much like Milo, was more reserved and didn't really show much of an effort to become friends with the people he worked with. He was amicable enough but kept the colleague boundary up like a wall. Except with you, anyway.

I think Rory would want to extend your work friendship beyond office hours and would start wanting to text you later in the evening but is so nervous to come across as being too forward. He likes to act as though he's a very nonchalant person but he really isn't at all. Especially not where you are concerned. So you'd definitely need to be the one to nudge and initiate more of a friendship between you both. It wouldn't take much. All you'd need to do was text him one Saturday morning and mention how you were planning for a bookshop trip and as if he wanted to come along. He texts back almost instantly with a big 'YES' followed immediately by a 'glad you've finally recognised my superior taste in books' purely to save face for how eager he must have seemed. Would come into the office on the Monday with red cheeks once he saw you in the staff car park and try to sound as normal as possible commenting on how he had a good weekend. For his own sanity, just go along with it. He begs.

♡ alexei ♡

Alexei is the new starter who doesn't have a whole lot of office experience under his belt. He's bright eyed and eager to learn on the job but is also somewhat nervous to make mistakes or ask too many questions. It takes him a little while to settle in and feel fully comfortable with his surroundings but once he does, Alexei starts to really flourish. Once he knows you're happy to answer all of his questions and won't scold him for not understanding something straight way, he will come to you with an entire monologue of queries he wants to clarify. Literally rambles this long stream of consciousness before reaching the end of his list and looking at you all expectantly for your response. Listens so intently while he's perched on his desk chair, scribbling down notes as you run through everything he'd asked. Then turns back to his computer screen with a 'thank you' and then doesn't say another word for like two hours. He'll just be typing and clicking away with this intense focus until you have to tap on his shoulder and remind him to take a break from the screen for a few minutes. Will struggle to pull himself away for breaks because once he's in the zone he is IN. He only really likes stepping away from his desk when he has reached a good stopping point and he absolutely hates leaving a task partially finished.

I don't think Alexei would be a super social person at work. It wouldn't be for any particular reason other than the thought didn't really occur to him? He prefers to take his breaks at his desk because his chair is comfortable enough so the only people he really talks to on the regular are the people he works with directly. Being new, he hasn't had much of a reason to visit the other departments nor has he been brought on to any big projects that would have him meeting and working with anyone else around the office. Even after he's been there for a little while, he's reached a point where he feels awkward introducing himself because he's not exactly new anymore but he also doesn't know a lot of names. Whenever there's an office party or holiday event, Alexei will turn and whisper to you asking who that was or to remind him of a name. He could have had a good ten minute conversation with someone who and not had a single clue as to what their name was. It makes for some funny encounters, especially if it's someone not well liked within the office. They'd strike up a conversation just for Alexei to clearly not know who they are. We love to see it.

After Alexei has been working in the office for a few months and has gotten nicely settled in his job, I can see him being really welcoming to a new starter. In the same way you answered all his questions and helped him along with his training, Alexei would do the same for the new person. He might come across a little too excited with how forthcoming he is with explanations or offers to help out with anything they're struggling with but it's clear that he means well. He's just a little enthusiastic!! Would also start to add little decorations on his desk. He doesn't do anything too special, but he might have a tiny figurine of a jellyfish sat under his monitor and would have themed notepads and matching pens to go with them. If he's going to spend most of his day there, he wants it to feel like it's his personal little corner.

♡ brooklyn ♡

Brooklyn is the high ranking manager CEO businessman who is also one of the most likable people around the office. Despite him always being seen in his signature suits and ties with some sort of important document in hand at any given moment, he was genuinely pleased to speak with anyone working there. He has his moments of being the stern business type, particularly when in stressful meetings to discuss the company's performance for the quarter and their targets for the next quarter. Overall, however, he remains a generally calming presence. If you were his assistant, he'd try to alleviate as much of the pressure of the role as he could. He knew he was a painfully busy man and that you had no end of meetings to schedule, companies to contact for collaborations and partnerships. There was never really an end to your workload for which he felt a tad guilty. Anytime you entered his private office, reeling off the schedule for the afternoon or informing him of a visitor who had arrived to meet with him, Brooklyn is offering to make you a cup of tea or coffee no matter how many times you insist that that's your job, not his. He never listens.

I think he'd take a lot of interest in you as a person too, not wanting there to be this distinct barrier of boss and employee. He would much rather you both felt you stood on equal ground. That mindset had gotten him into some mild altercations in meetings when other company executives had made some sort of snide comment regarding your involvement in the discussions. Brooklyn wasn't going to stand for one of his most trusted and hardworking colleagues to be taken for granted. The strained tension never left the boardroom until a few minutes after the meeting ended and Brooklyn stormed out looking angrier than you'd ever seen him. Would be silent as he poured himself a cup of tea and then give you this serious talk about how if that were to ever happen without him around report it to him immediately. His expression was much sterner that you'd experienced from all your time working directly with Brooklyn, but it was evident that it came from a place of respect. And he explained as much as he leaned against his desk, pinching the spot between his brows as if the encounter had given him a headache.

There had never been any repeat instances following that afternoon, though you had overheard some whispers about the incident. Mostly from people surprised to hear that Brooklyn had raised his voice. Anytime you commented on it while presenting him with new paperwork, Brooklyn would adjust his tie awkwardly, face heating at the lack of composure he'd now exposed to the office. He took pride in coming across in a well-presented and calm manner so this one lapse of his self-restraint made him feel a touch embarrassed each time he was reminded of the event; in those moments he seemed less like the important business figure and more like a close friend you could playfully tease in passing moments between the busy hours. It was a comfortable and welcomed dynamic for the both of you.

♡ tobias ♡

Tobias is without a doubt the office socialite. He's always popping his head into the different departments with a request or to catch up after the weekend. He reminds me of someone I work with who is incredibly easy going and is friends with basically everyone in the office. Tobias can have a tendency to cause disruptions in that his voice will carry in an office room and he doesn't really realise how much of a distraction his presence can be sometimes. He doesn't mean to pull people away from anything important! But he also can't really help himself when it's the middle of the week and he's got all kinds of work adjacent stories to be shared. Will perch himself on your desk and start rambling away about something, not really noticing if you were paying him your full attention or not. It's only after he asks you a question and you noncommittally answer with a vague 'yes' that he'll start whining about how you're not listening to him. As much as we'd like to chat, some of us have work to do, Tobias. When you question him about his own work, Tobias will conveniently remember he needs to be somewhere else, dodging the question entirely and scampering away to a different department. There is usually a shaking of heads that follows after Tobias whenever he dashes off somewhere else—it's always from a place of endearing acceptance.

I can see Tobias being involved in the marketing side of a business. Definitely the one to organise big events and staff parties. He needs someone to rein him in though because some of his ideas aren't quite workplace or coworker friendly. He hears office party and thinks hell yeah time to go wild go crazy but no Tobias please the last time that happened you broke multiple office chairs we can't afford to keep replacing them every time. Would enlist you for help too because you're his favourite person to bother at work. Whether you humour him and play along or tell him to, light heartedly, leave you alone, Tobias will find his way to your desk for some quality catchup time. What do you mean it's Monday and you're busy? He needs to tell you about this movie he saw on Saturday that he thinks should be the theme of the next work event. He's also the type to bring food to your desk too. Will sometimes just buy lunch for you and pry your hands away from your keyboard so that he can slide a salad or pot of pasta into your grasp. Tobias takes lunch breaks very seriously. He'll also get treats for people in the office too! Buys little cakes or chocolates just because. This is part of the reason why everyone likes him so much; can't say no to a man who keeps you well fed.

Despite poking fun at Tobias being a bit more lax around the office, I think he genuinely would be full of solid ideas and he does feel pretty passionate about certain aspects of the job too. His work/life balance isn't perfect in that he tends to prioritise life a little more than he should sometimes but there's little harm in it. He's a very good person to be around if you're the type to get a bit too wrapped up in working. Tobias is NOT letting you overwork yourself. Not on his watch!! He's a surprisingly perceptive person and can very easily tell when you're stressed or not getting as much sleep as you should. Will take it upon himself to text you at the weekend to hang out and have a movie night with him. That way he can make sure you're relaxing and not spending your limited time off working your brain. Will steal your phone directly from your hands if you're staring too hard, eyebrows furrowed, and will replace it with a snack and gently remind you that it's the weekend time not work time. He has his uses sometimes.

#infinite blue x reader #infinite blue #infinite blue leo #infinite blue brooklyn #infinite blue milo #infinite blue rory #infinite blue tobias #infinite blue alexei #hello again how are we doing it's only been *checks wrist* four months #I FEEL BAD I MISS WRITING BUT IM SO DEEP IN OTOME HELL SPENDING MY EVENINGS KICKING MY FEET TWIRLING MY HAIR OVER SILLY OFFICE ROMANCE GAME #anyway play sympathy kiss teehee it is very good #also v open to requests i promise i will try not to leave them stewing for months #but also no guarantees on that one oops #anna writes

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annasinterests · 7 months

Text

don't look at me like that unless you mean it

all day long, i'm wearing a mask of false bravado ♫ trying to keep up a smile that hides a tear

|| series masterlist || main masterlist ||

a/n: she's alive!!! wow life has been so busy (and depressing lowkey) so sorry for taking forever to update. i do fear this may be a little underwhelming given the wait but i'm finally moving the plot along how i want it. i've also looked at this for way too long so i just need to post it or else it'll never leave the drafts. love y'all, enjoy <3

word count: 7.7k

pairings: joel miller x f!reader

warnings & tags: minors dni, reader is lowkey highkey going through it, family dinner!, approaching threats, yearning, joel and reader have a bad case of the feels, swearing, mentions of blood/violence — please tell me if i missed anything!

It wasn’t addressed the morning after. Or during the late dinner that following night.

Not even two, three days later.

Which brought you to today, and still nothing. It was like a heavy fog that refused to dissipate, a complete contrast to the week before when words had flowed more freely between you two until that night. Now and then a brief conversation was shared, though its brevity only emphasized the distance that crept between you both.

And then there were those accursed papers, the unwelcome intruder into your already strained dynamic.

The progress was coming along much slower than you anticipated being that you had limited windows of time to work on them, often staying up late into the night in your room, or quietly flipping through them at the kitchen table or out on the front porch.

You had finally sorted them into two piles: the map and patrol schedules, and the roster and patrol logs. The constant scribbling, drawing, and highlighting had taken a toll on the papers, rendering them almost unrecognizable from their original state due to your desperate need to find connections, no matter how small they might be.

Despite your efforts to compartmentalize your thoughts on shift, your mind remained clouded with the ever-pressing mystery. Fortunately, today you’d been paired up with Mike, a partner that appreciated the comfortable silences and occasionally engaged in small talk about Jackson and everyday life, offering respite from the chaotic whirlpool that was your head over the last few days.

Returning to the stables after the long day wasn’t the reward you were hoping you felt like it was going to be, the idea of another sleepless night deciphering the papers looming over you. You leaned on the gate of your horse’s pen, observing the gentle giant before you, America.

She was brought in to Jackson just a few weeks after you settled, slightly underweight and skittish, but with the promise of improvement with time. It was during one of your grooming sessions when you hummed along to A Horse with No Name on your Walkman that you realized the irony of it, finding her name to be fitting of the circumstances.

She nudged your hands that were lazily draped over the wooden gate, prompting a weak smile from you. You reached up to caress her muzzle and forehead, her eyes closing in response as she leaned into your touch. Resting your forehead against hers, your hands moved to her cheeks, where you continued to stroke her gently.

“My best girl, always know when I’m off, don’t you?” She nickered and nudged you again, deepening your smile. “Rest up, I’ll see you in the morning.”

Just as you set her feeding pail within reach and tossed a few apples into her pen, the sound of your name caught your attention and spun you around to see Lottie. You squinted at the older woman, unsure of why she was all the way out here looking for you just as curfew was setting in.

“Lottie,” your voice was light with concern, guiding her shoulder gently back towards housing, “everything alright?”

“Oh, sure is!” She waved a hand, “I stopped by your house earlier today, I didn’t know you were out until Ellie told me and– which, can I just say, she is such a sweetheart. I mean she’s just-”

The corner of your lips curled up as she continued to gush, a prideful sense swelling up in you as when anyone spoke highly of her. You were drawn back into the conversation when she finally rounded to the point in front of her own home.

“Anyway, I didn’t know if you’d run out of this yet-” She reached into her satchel and retrieved a jar, “Here.”

You quirked a brow as she pushed it into your hands. The liquid inside looked dark in the fading light, but a familiar white label with cursive caught your eye. A smile spread on Lottie’s face as your eyes widened, recognizing the gift she’d given you, “Lottie, I-”

You couldn’t finish your sentence, your fingers curling around the jar as if it were the most fragile thing in the world. You brought it close to your chest, a genuine smile spreading across your face. “I can’t say thank you enough.”

“No need, sweetie.” Seeing the joy it brought you was more than enough for her, her hands clasped together under her chin and grinning. “Anything for you and Joel.”

You met her eyes at the mention of his name.

“I would’ve just given it to him like last time, but I figured since it was for you anyway, I’d just give it to you myself.” She winked at you, “Save you the wait.”

You tried to appear as cool as possible even though it felt like you were short-circuiting. Last time? She knew it was for you?

“Well,” you cleared your throat, eager to change the subject “thank you again, Lottie. I better get going before it’s too late.”

Offering her a sweet smile and a nod, you rounded the corner, your thoughts buzzing with the secret she unknowingly let you in on until you stepped through your front door.

You hadn’t realized how hungry you were until the smell of food reached your nose once you stepped inside, the aroma being the best welcome home you’d had in a while. Ellie’s head poked into the hallway, her cheerful greeting echoing down it as you kicked off your boots and followed the delightful scent to its source.

To your right was Dina standing by the stove, deftly balancing a pot and pan, while Ellie and Jesse worked together by cutting bread and vegetables at the island. She spoke without taking her eyes off her cooking, “You can probably get in a quick shower before it’s ready.”

You couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at the unexpected feast. “What’s all this about?”

“A thank you for letting us crash on your couch tonight.”

The post-curfew rule.

With a full kitchen, it still lacked one person. Hoping it didn’t sound as awkward as it felt, you inquired, “Is, uh.. Joel home?”

Ellie answered, “Yeah, he’s-”

“Right here.”

His muffled voice called from the dining room, emerging seconds later while wiping his hands on his jeans. His gaze first landed on you, then your hands, then back up to you with a drastic difference from his initial look. Your fingers involuntarily curled around the jar, feeling an immediate tension. The kids were chattering, but you weren’t listening as you locked eyes with him, his lips curled inward slightly.

“Gonna share with the class?”

Jesse’s voice and nearing presence brought you back to the scene that was your kitchen, pointing at your possession. Rather than telling, you handed it to him and watched as he surveyed it.

“Ah, honey.” He stated once he saw the label, turning it over to a curious Dina that approached his side. “Tupelo– What’s that, something special?”

Ellie’s cutting slowed at his question, darting her eyes quickly at Joel, and then you. Your attention remained fixed on it, your mouth half-opened as you pondered how to respond. It was special– in ways that went beyond mere taste.

“The flavor.” You replied with a soft smile, turning away to go upstairs.

The shower was just what you needed to wash away the day’s stress, the hot water a godsend on your skin. You returned perfectly on time as everyone took their seats at the table. Jesse sat next to Ellie, Ellie next to Dina, Dina across from you, which left you besides Joel.

Awkwardly, you sat at the same time, acutely aware of the other’s presence yet made no move to so much as look at the other out the corner of your eye. And if it couldn’t have been more awkward, you reached for the serving utensils simultaneously. You both retracted and silently urged the other to go first, although Joel held out longer.

The bread and vegetables Jesse and Ellie had been cutting were spread evenly on a large board that featured sliced cucumbers, carrots, bell peppers, cherry tomatoes, zucchini, and a dip in the middle of it all. The main course consisted of salmon with lemon-herb orzo and broccoli that made your mouth water just at the sight of, leaving you thoroughly impressed and appreciative with their efforts of cooking such a meal for so many.

Your hand grazed against his in passing it over, the sudden contact an electric shock to you. You stole a discreet glance at his fingers as they curled around the handle, following up along his strong forearms where the veins subtly raised under his skin– those same veins that you knew continued up. A desire simmered in your lower belly, fantasizing about how those very arms and fingers brought you great pleasure just earlier in the week, now borderline aching to have them on and around you again.

“Don’t wait too long, it’ll get cold.” Ellie’s gentle words reached your ears along with a small smile, her forearm resting against the edge with a clean fork in hand.

Quickly glancing around the table, you noticed that everyone else had started eating except you, apparent that she was waiting on you.

“Sorry, just-” You shook your head and picked up the spatula to serve yourself, “You guys really outdid yourselves.”

Jesse chimed in, “Well, technically Ellie and Dina did everyth-”

Dina interrupted with enthusiasm, “Oh, nuh-uh! This was a group effort!”

“Yeah! You carried everything back to the house,” Ellie added while she picked up a forkful of salmon and orzo, “that’s like, half the battle right there.”

Jesse rolled his eyes, “Yeah, but I didn’t actually cook anything.”

Ellie covered her mouth, her words slightly muffled by the food. “But you did cut the shit out of some bread, though.”

Jesse lowered his fork, shaking his head with mock annoyance and trying to hide his laugh, which only caused a burst of laughter from the girls. You hid your own smile behind your hand, sneaking a glance at Joel who’d been hiding his behind a glass of water.

“Whatever, anyway– what’s new with you guys?” He poked his fork into his plate, “Haven’t seen you since before the party, no?”

“Oh yeah, the party!” Dina exclaimed, “How was it?”

The three of them leaned in eagerly, curiosity shining in their eyes. Their intense gazes demanding details from either of you. Quickly, you grabbed your drink and took long, deliberate sips of the ice cold water, prolonging any sort of answer. You didn’t even dare to look at Joel. You hoped that each gulp would shock away the memories that threatened to play at the forefront of your mind; the drinking, jealousy, dancing, arguing, kissing–

Apparently, he had the same idea.

“Ah,” Jesse spoke in a hushed tone, “I see.”

“Mmhm, me too,” Dina joined in with a conspiratorial whisper, “Ellie?”

You raised your finger before she could input, feeling her response through her smug expression she directed your way.

“Easy.” Joel’s sudden tone was light with a hint of caution, “Nothin’ for you kids to worry about, jus’ adults being adults.”

Your attempt to conceal a guilty smile didn’t go unnoticed by them, turning their gaze to you in unison, then back to Joel.

“Adults being adults, huh?” Ellie teased.

“Ellie–”

“Oh, come on, Joel!” She egged him on. “Give us something.”

You busied yourself with another bite as Joel did his signature sigh of annoyance, wearing an expression that clearly showed his mild irritation.

“Really? Nothing? Either of you?”

You both continued to stare back at her, Joel’s gaze more unamused than yours, as you wore a slight smile on your face.

“Yeah, they’re definitely not telling.” Jesse piped up, “They’re doing the parent thing.”

Your smile dropped like you’d been caught in the act, but it was really at his use of being her..

“What parent thing?” Ellie switched her attention to Jesse.

Parent.

Moreso the allusion of being her parent.

Maybe it looked that way– sure felt that way sometimes, but the term wasn’t ever actually used. Maybe it made sense, though. After all, she did call Tommy ‘Uncle Tommy’.

“You know, the thing where you can ask them a million times, but they won’t say a word? Either because the answer is so obvious or they’re just not going to spill the beans, so they give you the old stare-down until you figure it out on your own?”

Okay, maybe he was onto something.

Ellie fell quiet for a second, looking down at her plate as she pondered the idea. Then, she lifted her eyes to you both.

“So that’s what that’s called?”

You shared a look with Joel before you both took simultaneous sips from your glasses, inciting another round of laughter from the kids.

To your relief, the conversation veered toward lighter topics after that. You finished your meal quietly and enjoyed the banter between Ellie and her friends. Occasionally, you caught Joel in your peripheral, a small smile playing on his lips as he watched on.

It’d been just half-past midnight when you looked at the clock, dragging a hand over your tired eyes. You’d spent the last few hours trying to put together a puzzle with pieces that felt like they were from different sets, making less progress than you would’ve liked. But, you did now have a foundation regarding the people who threatened Jackson, finally having a solid list of their names and physical descriptions.

On paper, it seemed like a group of six to seven all in varying stages of their twenties, led particularly by a man and woman. According to the logs, it suggested as if they all had some sort of combat and marksman skill, though two in particular were perceived to have medical training as well.

With a heavy sigh, you put your pen down on your desk, slumping back in your chair and feeling your muscles uncoil from being hunched over for so long while you drew out an organization chart. You flexed your fingers, trying to soothe the soreness from gripping the pen tightly for so long, and gently massaged your aching knuckles.

Reluctantly, you scooped all the papers together and rolled in your chair to your nightstand to shove them in the drawer, calling it an “early” night. The soft glow of your lamp, usually a comfort, was becoming nothing more than a nuisance at the hour. All you wanted was to retreat into the darkness under your covers.

You rose and stretched out your limbs, aiming to release the tension but froze midway when a knock came from the door, glancing back at your clock once more before padding over to the door.

To your surprise, it’d been Joel, with coffee, tea, and a warm slice of blueberry pie.

“Saw your light was still on..” he gestured with the plate, “.. kids brought this over, too.”

You opened the door wider, inviting him in if he wished to enter. He slowly stepped past you, getting a waft of the treats as he did.

“Little late for sweets, don’t you think?” You teased.

He set down the plate and tea on your desk, shooting you a knowing look, “Since when do you say no to a midnight snack?”

You rolled your eyes at his point. Never. Especially when the smell of warm blueberries and sweetness filled the air.

You slumped into your chair again, throwing one leg over the other as you leaned back with the steaming cup of tea in hand. With the first sip, you could immediately tell what Joel had added to it.

He stood near the foot of your bed in a way that it looked like he wasn’t sure what to do with himself, teetering between leaving and staying. You noticed his reading glasses folded and hanging from the collar of his shirt, making an excuse for him to stick around for a few more minutes.

“Late night reading?”

He followed your gaze down to his chest, his fingers momentarily brushing over them, “Been stuck on the same chapter for a while.. can’t seem to get past it.”

You knew the feeling too well.

“What about you?” He drew a sip from his mug, taking a seat on your bed

You leaned forward to trade the tea for the pie, the plate still warm against your fingers. “Can’t sleep.”

It wasn’t entirely a lie.

He nodded at the answer, glad he deemed it as a believable one. The slice was gone within a few bites, the portion expertly cut to serve as the perfect midnight snack. For a while, you sat in companionable silence, quietly sipping from your mugs.

“Did it-”

“Well I-”

You both paused, a light chuckle filling the space. He motioned for you to speak first.

“I hope I’m not overstepping, but..” you hesitated, gauging his reaction to the warning you were giving him. He remained calm– open, even, to your curiosity. “Did it feel weird to be called a parent again?”

His expression was still soft, though his eyes fell to the hand on his knee, his thumb absently tracing the material of his pants. It was rare that you even brought up the thought of her. She represented the stark difference of your losses, and while he never made you feel like yours were less, you knew there was a unique pain that came from losing your own child. One that you’d never experienced.

“It’s.. complicated.” He sighed, “But it didn’t feel wrong.”

You watched the gears turn in his head and patiently awaited his choice to delve further or simply let it rest.

“I was lucky enough to be a father once, and when I lost..” His voice died down, both his hands cradling the coffee mug but looking as if they’d drop it at any moment. Gently, you took it from him and placed it alongside your abandoned tea, settling next to him and rubbing soft circles on his shoulder.

“When I lost her, I thought that was it.” His fingers brushed against your knee, their movements almost trembling and uncertain. “I did the worst thing a parent could do– I failed her.”

You placed your hand on top of his lightly, curling your fingers into his palm.

“Yet, somehow, I was given a second chance.” His hand curled around yours, “She gave me a second chance.”

The vulnerability made your heart ache, to listen to him speak so candidly about something that haunted him for years.

“She can’t replace my Sarah, but I don’t need her to. I love her just as she is.”

A smile tugged at the corner of your lips at the admission, though you didn’t need him to say it to know that’s how he felt about the teen living twenty feet from your backdoor.

You rubbed your thumb over his wrist, glancing down at your joined hands and then back up at him. “She loves you too.”

You could see the small smile appearing on his face at your words, his head dropping slightly and nudging you with his shoulder in a way that elicited a soft chuckle out of you.

In the light moment, you pulled back to grab both your mugs and rejoined him at his side. You enjoyed the silence, savoring your drinks of choice again. The floral sweetness tickled your nose with each sip, the honey making it go down more smooth compared to when you drank it without.

“How do you feel about it?”

You met his soft gaze, the glow of your bedroom lamp casting a gentle light on his features, making him appear even softer despite his imposing frame. For a moment, your eyes roamed over him, tracing the path of his beard down his neck to the glasses that hung from his shirt, and catching a final glimpse of a vein that ran up his bicep and hid under his sleeve. He looked so..

You tapped your finger on the rim of your mug, forcing yourself to rip your eyes away and distract yourself with a sip of your tea before answering.

“I mean, it’s..” You sighed, searching for the right words but coming up short. “Complicated, like you said.”

Your fingers traced patterns on the mug’s surface as a rush of feelings overwhelmed you, but your voice remained steady, “She didn’t even flinch at the implication, which I feel says a lot, you know?”

You swirled the last bit of tea at the bottom as you gathered your thoughts. “I never got to have kids, but with her, there’s just this feeling, this..”

“Instinct.”

You looked up at him and found an understanding in his eyes. He wasn’t offering to fill the gap, he was telling you what it was.

“Instinct.. to protect her as my own. Be the one she can rely on, love her through all the good and bad– stuff like that.”

A light chuckle into his coffee had you knitting your brows together, “What?”

“That’s what a parent does.” He shrugged with a half-smile.

You bit your lip as you looked down, drawing the mug up as his words sunk in and downing the last bit of tea left. You shook your head, an uncertainty still persisting.

“I don’t know, Joel. I don’t want her to feel like I’m trying to take that place. I don’t want her to think that–”

“Hey– she doesn’t.” He interrupted with a hand between your shoulders, “You’re just bein’ you, and you are what matters to her.”

Between the lack of good rest and emotional turmoil, it left you too weary to offer a counter argument. You simply surrendered to his word and settled for silence. Slowly, you leaned into him and rested your head into the crook of his shoulder, his arm gently wrapping around you and soothingly rubbing up and down your arm.

“Thanks, Joel.”

The words were barely a whisper but brimmed with sincerity, earning a simple hum in response and a cheek resting atop your head.

Moments like this reminded you how fortunate you were to have them both, to have found and created a life together after enduring the worst kinds of casualties. To have loved, lost, and found a purpose again.

“Try to get some sleep, alright?” He squeezed your arm and withdrew, reminding you both of the early morning ahead.

You nodded, observing as he gathered your empty mug and plate and balanced them all with one hand. A comforting smile graced his lips before he took his leave, yet he lingered in the doorway with his hand on the doorknob.

“If it makes a difference,” he looked at you as he spoke, “I think you’re one hell of a mom to her.”

A rush of warmth flooded your cheeks and made you look down at your hands that couldn’t seem to stay still now. When you summoned the courage to meet his eyes again, he shot you a wink and finally closed the door.

Padding over to the lamp and finding the switch under the shade, your fingers ceased to flip it as you stared at the dip in your bed where you both sat.

It wasn’t the conversation you expected, nor a conversation you expected at all, but it was one that undoubtedly drew you closer to him.

Despite only getting a few hours of shut-eye, you surprisingly felt well-rested. You welcomed the sun peeking through the blinds as it created a calm atmosphere in your room that further motivated you to get ready for the day, as well as the smell of fresh coffee brewing that had you hurrying to get downstairs for a cup and quick breakfast before heading out.

Joel’s back had been turned to you in front of the pot, noticing your presence almost instantly and quick to hand you a thermos with a mumbled good mornin’. You leaned against the counter beside him, feeling the warmth radiate through the cup, the sensation running a pleasant shiver through your body.

He watched you carefully as he situated himself, your state of peace bringing a smile to his face; your eyes closed with contentment as you inhaled the rich aroma, the steam rolling over your face in small waves.

Over the rim of the cup, you noticed the jar of honey you acquired less than twelve hours ago sitting on the counter. You figured that Jesse had forgotten about it once he set it down. Crossing the kitchen, you picked it up, giving it a once-over before turning to Joel with a smirk.

“So.. you did know.” The remark lacked any real accusal.

Joel leaned back, gripping the counter with one hand, crinkling his eyebrows and casually shrugging as he brought the coffee to his lips, “I have no idea what you’re talkin’ about.”

Your smile deepened, “Oh, really-”

He loudly put the empty coffee pot in the sink, effectively cutting off your incoming line of questioning, ushering you to put down the jar and move, “C’mon, we’re gonna be late.”

You rolled your eyes and swiftly reached for two apples from the fruit bowl on the island. Blindly, you shoved one into your own pack and deftly managed to slip the other into Joel’s for later, all while he rushed you both.

On the walk over you made a few more attempts to extract an answer from him, but were met with skillful deflections that made you giggle with each evasion. You took a sip of your coffee, raising and dropping your shoulders in a mocked defeat.

“Well, guess I could ask Lottie, then.”

He quickly shot you a look, “Or you could not.”

You laughed and playfully swatted at his shoulder, “So you’ll tell me then?”

He let out a huff and shook his head, gesturing to the patrol board that was surrounded by more people than you expected, “Let’s save it for when there aren’t so many ears around?”

You flashed him a grin and deliberately raised your voice with each word, “Why? Don’t want people knowing your little secret about-”

He swiftly stepped in front of you, putting just enough space between you both to maintain propriety. His faint smile lingered as he lightly touched your shoulder. “Listen, I promise you can give me all the grief you want later, alright?”

It was almost endearing how flustered he got, though you had no intention of revealing anything. Even after you agreed, he held your gaze for a moment longer, and you swore you saw a glint of something intimate before he turned away. Excitement fluttered in your belly after joining the line, your body flushing with a mild heat from the quick moment of close proximity.

As you approached the board, Joel lagged behind in conversation with a fellow patrol member. You scanned the board, quickly reading names over and between figures, though none revealed your own. Once at the front, you used your finger and dragged down the list until you found your name, darting over to the next column where you raised an eyebrow at seeing your partner for the shift was none other than Joel himself.

You turned to him still absorbed in discussion, moving out of the way for others and politely tapping his shoulder as you offered a warm smile to the other man. “Hey, we should start moving out.”

His eyes flickered between you and the board, pointing to it and nodding, “Yeah, let me go see-”

You placed your hand on his forearm to stop him from walking, being met with an inquisitive brow.

“You and me, Miller.”

You grinned at his surprise, patting his shoulder twice and brushing past to go to the stables. Besides being tricked by Tommy earlier in the week and today, you hadn’t been paired up for patrol in quite some time, and part of you believed this was another convoluted plan on his again.

It didn’t take long for Joel to follow you and ride down to the gate together, falling in with the assembled group with Tommy at the front giving one of his customary speeches before departure. He found you both easily with a mischievous smile, cementing your belief.

The route today was to go through Wilson Valley down to Elk Creek, take Elk Creek to Colten Bay, then loop back around to Wilson Valley. It wasn’t one of your favorite routes by any means, finding it less scenic compared to others, much of it consisting of open fields and small bodies of water overrun with algae that served as markers.

The first few hours were just as boring as you expected them to be, the majority of it spent traversing to Wilson Valley alone. You didn’t bother to hold America’s reins as she navigated the familiar path. Instead, your hands took small sections of her mane to gently detangle and then braid.

Your eyes roamed over the vast land and mountainous structures, the varying hues of green and yellow abundant everywhere you looked. Dilapidated houses and barns littered along the fields, worn and picked down to their foundation, no longer even offering shelter to the poorest of travelers.

As time passed, impatience crept in. It felt like you were seeing the same sparse trees and tall grass over and over again, the scenery quickly becoming more monotonous by the minute.

You peered over at Joel with nonchalance, “Is now a good time for that grief?”

A grin appeared on his face as he looked down at his saddle and then back to you, raising his hands and letting them fall on his thighs with a playful flair, “If you must.”

You simpered, simply reiterating an earlier point. “So, again, you did know.”

He nodded, “Yeah, I did. And yes, I got it from Lottie.”

You didn’t get the chance to get a question out before he started speaking again.

“She stopped me one mornin’ on my way in for patrol, not too long after she dropped off that box for you. Was askin’ me if you liked honey in your tea, ran inside and brought it out to show me.” He chuckled as he told the details, “When I saw what kind it was, told her I’d pick it up on my way home that evenin’.”

“But how do you?..” You furrowed your brows at him, still stuck on the how. “I don’t recall ever-”

“You remember when we’d camp out durin’ our runs back in Boston?”

You nodded.

“And how sometimes we’d bring a bottle if we knew it was gonna be a long night?”

Your groan transformed into a laughter and rang into the air with his, the era of that time certainly not lost in your memory.

“Yeah, it’d been one of those nights. You were sittin’ there, tellin' me about it with all smiles.” You cringed, now realizing why you didn’t remember. “Didn’t quite understand why until you said her name.”

You took up America’s reins in your hands as the bittersweet memories flashed through your mind of a better time. His voice held a soft, contemplative tone as he continued.

“The way you talked about it– talked about her– was like you were tellin’ a story from just a few days ago. Hadn’t seen you talk like that about anything before.”

Your grip tightened as he recounted the memory from his perspective, rubbing the leather between your fingers as an ache bloomed in your chest.

“So when I saw it– I knew I couldn’t pass it up, and I told you I didn’t know because I thought..” He trailed off, running a hand over his beard and letting out a sigh, “.. I thought it would’ve made it more special.”

Your hands were so hot you were certain the reins would’ve caught on fire. You couldn’t do anything but rub your thumbs faster against the material to quell the rising emotions, the stinging in your nose that made it crinkle without fail every time. Biting down on your lip, you looked away and let a few tears bounce off your cheeks before swiftly wiping away the remnants.

You got one of your answers, but fuck– you weren’t expecting all of that. He remembered because he saw how happy it made you one night all those years ago?

He knew– he fucking knew– and he never would’ve told you so that you could have it to yourself.

The alarms were blaring. The sign clear as day. It wasn’t coincidence, it wasn’t chance– it was pure deliberation driven by an old memory. And it messed with you hard, because you knew that in knowing, there was loving. A type of love without the need for grand declarations and elaborate speeches to prove it, because it’s proved by showing.

You couldn’t look at him during this minor epiphany, and a frown formed on his face when he realized. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to, because you did– but if you did, it would be too real. It would mean that you were right and that he lo–

“M’sorry if I-”

“No!” The word came out more frantic than you intended, catching him off guard with its intensity. His face registered a mixture of confusion, quickly correcting yourself with a softer tone. “N-No, don’t apologize, Joel-”

“I–” A weak smile tugged at your lips, trying your best to keep the tears at bay, “It’s nice that you knew.”

Amidst all the other uncertainties and unresolved issues between you two, this was something entirely different– a direct, indisputable act on his part. Yet you knew it wouldn’t be so easily discussed as such.

So your horses continued to trot along the path in silence, entering Elk Creek.

You sat at the edge of a small lake in the warm gravel, little past the halfway point of the route and well into Colten Bay.

The last few hours were pleasant, marked every so often by eye contact and the exchange of a soft smile. Joel continued on about the honey ordeal, explaining that Ellie got roped into it not long ago when she asked to use some after discovering it in the pantry. She’d looked at him oddly when he told her to use it sparingly, then having to reason as to why. You chuckled as he recalled the details of their conversation that day, Ellie’s eyes widening at learning a new fact about you, pulling up a chair and practically begging Joel to share more stories about your time together in Boston. According to him, the conversation had started early in the afternoon in the kitchen and lasted late into the evening in the living room, even surviving their stop at the Tipsy Bison to grab a quick dinner, her curiosity unwavering

Despite the unremarkable scenery of the lake, you enjoyed it with Joel by your side. The trees towered over you enough to give shade from the dwindling sun, casting dappled sunlight over the forests and mountains in the distance that contrasted against the blue sky.

You passed a paper bag back and forth with jerky in it, preferring to string your pieces apart rather than bite and pull until your jaw was sore, which earned you teasing from Joel.

“Laugh it up, old timer.” You quipped, “You’re lucky there’s no more TV, because if there was, I’d film how you eat and send it straight to National Geographic.”

You couldn’t tell what made you laugh harder, your own joke or Joel’s belly laugh to the point wiping away tears from the corners of his eyes. You grabbed his arm to steady yourself, both of you involuntarily leaning in towards one another, and for a moment, it didn’t feel like you were working. You were just two friends enjoying each other’s company.

“Man,” you reached for the bag and shoved it into your pack, standing off and dusting off the back of your thighs, “I got you fucking good.”

Still chuckling, he shook his head and took your offered hand, following you back to the horses. He began to speak, but the words fell deaf on your ears as you heard the faint crunching of sticks and swishing of leaves close by, snapping your head in the direction and raising a hand for him to be quiet. He caught on instantly.

You both acted swiftly, instinct taking over as Joel drew his revolver while you unholstered yours, aiming with precision and falling into synchronized steps. The rustling grew louder and louder until a figure bursted through the underbrush and halted upon seeing you both.

Before you stood a young woman, clearly in a state of panic and distress. Fresh blood stained her clothes and smeared across her face. She raised her arms, chest heaving as if she’d been running for some time.

“I-I don’t mean harm!”

You maintained a cautious stance, your eyes fixed firmly on the woman. Her wide brown eyes darted nervously between you and Joel, sweat plastering her short hair to her forehead. She was short, maybe shorter than Ellie, and thin.

“I-I was chased.” She stammered, “Got separated from my people.”

“And who are your people?” You pressed rigidly.

“Just a few of us– please, you gotta-”

Whatever plea she’d been begging drowned out as you really began to stare at her. She was covered in blood, yet had no wounds to show for it. Not even a scratch. Slowly, details from your chart began to emerge.

Female. White. 5’1-5’4.

You narrowed your eyes.

Short dark hair. Slim build.

Your jaw tensed.

Fuck, what was her name– Mel?

You muttered her name under your breath, catching Joel’s attention as he looked at you in his peripheral.

“I’m sorry-” You cut her off sharply as she was still blabbering, “I don’t think we got your name.”

She froze, shuffling her feet and darting her eyes away and back to you, “M-Miranda.”

You decided to go out on a limb

“You seen any wolves, Miranda?”

Her face flushed, and you saw her mask slip for a moment before putting on the facade again, “Wolves? I haven’t seen any wolves.”

An anger simmered in you. Liar.

Joel took a step closer to you, maintaining his gaze on the girl while lowering his voice, “Care to tell me what it is you’re doin’ here?”

You ignored his question, “Get on your horse, Joel.”

“What?” He scrunched his face, “I’m not-”

He paused when he caught the lethal look in your eyes, scowling at your insistence but ultimately complying. There wasn’t enough time to explain nor were you privy to the idea of letting him in on your work outside of work.

“I told you my name, I think it’s only fair that-” She began to reason, but it only made you more angry.

“Oh, I don’t think that’s necessary.” You backed up until you reached America and swiftly hoisted yourself up, flickering your eyes into the trees every few moments. You kept your pistol trained on her, “Be careful about those wolves, Miranda.”

You stared down at her, your voice dripping with venom, “If there’s one, there’s probably a pack nearby.”

Luckily with Joel ahead, he missed your insinuation. The woman glared you down and snarled as you rode off, dropping her hands down in a frustrated defeat.

You ushered him to pick up the pace, taking the lead through the remainder of Colten Bay and all throughout Wilson Valley, your head on a swivel the entire time. The hours painfully dragged by, doing a number on your anxiety as you couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched the rest of the way home.

Immense relief washed over you upon seeing Jackson’s gate in the distance, whistling up to the guards so you could ride straight through and to the stables, not wasting another minute beyond the walls as the night fell.

You led America into her pen, fetching her feeding pail and gently gliding your hand along her neck as she ate. You couldn’t stop thinking of Mel, that look she gave you when you let her know you weren’t falling for her act.

It was too close, and you berated yourself mentally for not doing more. You shouldn’t have killed her, right? Even though she was the enemy? No. You didn’t condone killing people in that cold of blood.. Not anymore, at least. Should you have tied her up and brought her back? Interrogated her more? Maybe. But doing so might’ve pissed off your enemies even more and put Jackson at an even greater risk.

Truthfully, you did what was best. You recognized the trouble and withdrew without wasting any bullets or risking injury, moreover keeping Joel safe, who seemed peeved with you at the moment.

Looking over at him, you noticed a small figure at his side. Your hand fell hard on America’s gate, the other finding your hip as you cocked your head.

That fucking woman from the party.

You couldn’t miss the broad smile she aimed at him, leaning casually against a pillar and swearing a shirt that left little to the imagination. You scoffed loudly at the audacity to come out here just to flirt right before curfew.

Your disapproval didn’t go unnoticed, Joel shooting you a look over his shoulder that begged you not to start. Seizing the moment, the woman shot you a dirty look before switching back to her charming smile when he turned his attention back to her.

Thankfully, Tommy entered the stables, and for once, you were grateful for his presence. With a smirk, you strided over to Joel and slipped your hand under his arm to guide him away.

“Um, excuse me!” Her high-pitched tone doubled as annoying and surprising. Reluctantly, you met her gaze, but didn’t drop your hold on Joel. “We were having a conversation.”

“Yeah? Well, that’s too bad.” Her mouth gaped.

“I think what she meant was that-” Joel attempted to soothe the burn, but you were absolutely having none of it.

“I meant exactly that.”

You smiled at him, successfully pulling away and getting joy from seeing her on the brink of a temper tantrum. You even smiled through the scolds he muttered to you under his breath as you approached his brother, his mood entirely sour now.

Tommy’s face shifted from neutral to concerned upon seeing you both with contrasting expressions, “Everythin’ alright?”

The lack of an answer told him what he needed to know, patiently waiting until the stables cleared out completely before giving him a rundown of the incident. You omitted the details you figured from your sidework, chalking the encounter up to being a baiting technique for an ambush.

He rolled his lips under his teeth, tapping his foot against the wood with hands on his hips, a telltale sign of deep thought. For a moment, you weren’t sure what to expect of a response, but you wouldn’t be surprised if it was a form of criticism on your part or a question regarding the situation. However, it never came. He dismissed you both after noting he’d make the necessary alterations for tomorrow, commending you for getting out safely. It was clear that he was shaken up by it, which furthered your guilt.

Joel had a five-step lead on the walk home no matter how hard you tried to keep up. You kept calling out to him, but received no response.

“Joel.” You called again. No answer. “Joel!”

He kept walking, maintaining his pace. You caught up and tugged him back by his arm, “Joel, what the f-”

“Not now.” He tersely replied.

The response was frustratingly vague. Not now? What did he mean not now? He was five steps ahead of you again before you knew it.

“What, are you mad at me?” Your confusion was mounting, and the silence from Joel was only making things worse.

He remained unresponsive, like talking to a brick wall, but you refused to let the matter rest. You didn’t stop pricking until you got home and he couldn’t ignore you any longer.

“Seriously, Joel? You’re not ev-”

“Why didn’t you tell him?”

You creased your brows for a moment, “Tell him what?”

He fixed you with a scrutinizing look, “How you questioned that girl.”

Shit.

“That was-” You darted your eyes away and back to him, letting your hands fall against your thighs, “I was seeing if she was lying.”

“About seeing wolves?” He narrowed his eyes at you. “Awfully specific if y’ask me.”

You straightened up, taking a step towards him, “Is there a problem with how I handle things?”

He let out a scoff, “The problem is when you don’t involve me.”

“Yeah, well next time I’ll make sure to stop and give you a full briefing!” Joel rolled his eyes, and you couldn’t help but feel a sting of annoyance, “Jesus, Joel– I’d think after all this time you’d have a little more trust in me.”

Your inward chuckle ceased when he didn’t respond, his reticence loud as he only looked at you. A pang of hurt hit you hard– Really?

The persisting silence only made it worse.

Whatever. Just go to your room and work for the rest of the night.

Walking past him, he stopped you with a firm hand on your hip.

“‘Course I trust you,” his voice softened, gently turning you to face him, “always have.”

The reassurance calmed you, reducing your fire to embers. His hand fell from you, but a slight frown remained.

“Jus’ can’t stand if somethin’ were to happen and I couldn’t do more because of what I didn’t know,” he searched you for understanding, “make sense?”

You couldn’t stay mad with how genuinely concerned he looked, growing disappointed with yourself for going at him hard when you would’ve done the same thing. Nodding, you mumbled out an apology to him, your eyes stuck on the floor.

Slowly, you felt his arms wrap around you in a way that let you know he accepted it. You exhaled a breath you weren’t aware you were holding as you yielded to his touch, resting against his chest and closing your eyes. The weight of the day felt heavy, but the sound of his heartbeat made it feel just a little lighter.

You thought things were on their way to getting better, that you were closer to tying up loose ends.

But it was only getting complicated again.

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller fic #tlou #the last of us #tlou fanfiction #annasmasterlist #anna writes

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alphacrone · 1 year

Text

before the world fell at our feet (1707 words) by the_one_that_fell

Fandom: Lockwood & Co. - Jonathan Stroud, Lockwood & Co. (TV) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Relationships: Lucy Carlyle & Norrie White, Holly Munro/Norrie White, Lucy Carlyle/Anthony Lockwood Additional Tags: Book Spoilers, Speculation, Reunions, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Best Friends

Summary:

Norrie wakes up and finds the world has changed.

#lockwood & co. tv #lockwood & co.#BOOK SPOILERS #anna writes things #anna writes #ok to rb

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oh-obrien · 11 months

Text

Red Line (Prologue)

Anakin Skywalker

A/N: This is my fuck it we ball moment diving head first into the Star Wars fandom. I fully concede I am new to the fandom and DO NOT know everything. But I do know that I am really good at writing fanfic that a) Diverges from canon b) adds a little bit of a ‘modern’ twist on to some (most) stuff.

This is gonna be a lil seriesssss and I am very excited. Prologue is a little short but future parts will be longer! Constructive criticism is welcome, but like I said I do know I diverge from canon here quite a bit. There will eventually be canon typical violence but not quite yet.

Buckle your seatbelts for Angst, Spice and Fluff.

Word Count: 1,942

“No one said it was bring your street rat to work day,” Lyra’s right eye twitched at the sound of the all too familiar voice behind her as she neared the High Council Chamber, “and who said you could have a pet anyways? Can’t complain about me being the only one to get special treatment now.” She took a moment to take in a deep breath before acknowledging the boy behind her. She hadn’t seen him in nearly two months now as their missions had taken them separate ways, but he still clearly remembered how to get under her skin from the get go. Biggs sat down quietly at Lyra’s feet, watching the individual his master had yet to acknowledge carefully.

“I forgot I’m not the only non-Council member they let into these meetings as of this session’s beginning.” Lyra finally turned around and saw Anakin Skywalker striding down the hallway, making his way towards the same place she’d be going. She hated to admit that Anakin had finally won the council over with his skills, allegedly. They had agreed that the Padawan was ready to begin understanding what being one of the most powerful Jedi meant. For the past two sessions Lyra had felt special, she was the only Padawan to be taken into council meetings, to truly begin her journey to becoming a Jedi-Knight and diplomat. Now though, now Anakin would be there also, he was naturally seen to be more gifted than her and she felt threatened by the boy standing in front of her. He’d once again be breathing down her neck like he had been since his arrival.

Anakin knelt down in front of Biggs and offered the Tooka cat his left index finger. Biggs’ large ears flattened as he sniffed the boy’s finger, hissing not long after before slinking away to curl around Lyra’s feet. “Oh how kind he is, I don’t understand why-” but Anakin didn’t get to finish his thought before Biggs unwound himself from his Master’s feet and began to bound down the hallway, clearly having seen someone he was rather fond of.

“Oh if it isn’t my favorite Padawan!” Obi-Wan’s voice filled the hallway, Biggs scampering around the Jedi Master’s feet as he bent down to pet the creature. “Ahh yes,” Obi-Wan straightened, “and you managed to drag in Anakin and Lyra as well. Wonderful! I was hoping someone would make sure they arrived on time” Obi-Wan picked up Biggs and strode past Anakin and Lyra, not acknowledging the two Padawans who were still awkwardly looking at one another in the hallway. Anakin had his hands clasped in front of him and nodded at his master as he passed, Lyra nodding at the Master Kenobi as well.

“Well,” Mace Windu followed not far behind Obi-Wan, “I don’t care if Obi-Wan’s Padawan is the last to arrive at the first council meeting of the new session, but I refuse to have you fall to the same fate.” He gave Lyra a stern nod before walking into the High Council Chamber. Lyra rolled her eyes, which she heard Anakin snicker at, before the pair of Padawans followed their Masters into the High Council Chambers.

While Obi-Wan took his time to become a friend to Anakin, learning to understand his Padawan past his Jedi training, Master Windu simply seemed to regard Lyra as his student. Nothing more and nothing less. Lyra had learned plenty from Master Windu, and it had allowed her to earn quite the reputation, but she sometimes longed for the relationship Anakin and Obi-Wan seemed to have, she didn’t resent the pair, she just wished she could experience the same connection with her Master.

Twelve chairs sat in the High Council room and Lyra heard Anakin let out a snicker in realization when he too had only counted twelve chairs, and while only seven currently had individuals sitting in them, both Lyra and Anakin knew that none of the dozen chairs were meant for them. Lyra had gotten used to standing for the duration of the meetings, but Anakin clearly took some offense to the fact that he’d be expected to stand the entire meeting. He was still a Padawan, not even a Knight yet; why would he expect any special treatment?

Lyra stepped further into the room and took her place next to Mace’s chair where she knew she was expected to stand for the duration of the meeting. Anakin, who had not been invited to the High Council’s meetings until this term, however, looked rather confused and stood awkwardly at the front of the room. Obi-Wan lifted his left hand from Biggs’ head momentarily to motion towards Lyra, Anakin’s eyes flickering to the girl briefly before he took his place at Obi-Wan’s side the same way Lyra stood next to her own Master.

“Been a long time since I have seen you it has, Lyra.” Lyra looked next to her where Master Yoda sat, his small frame practically engulfed by his chair. “Doing well I hope you are.” Prior to the break the more advanced Padawan’s were given, Lyra had been sent on a nearly two month long mission to Kessel to investigate a Spice ring operating out of the planet. She had posed as the well-off daughter of a diplomatic family looking to invest her money into something more profitable than typical government affairs and get into something more exciting than being the daughter of a diplomat. It had been a grueling two months and she would be expected to return to Kessel again at some point, but the intel she had managed to gain had proved to be valuable to the Council and Senate thus far.

“Yes Master Yoda, I’m doing quite well. I’m rather glad to be back, although it was nice to get some time off with the other Padawans.” Lyra heard Obi-Wan let out a thoughtful hum from two chairs over. Throughout recent years the High Council had begun letting older Padawans take some well deserved time off. Lyra also theorized it was to give the Masters a break from their Padawans as well, and while certain worldly things were still not encouraged, taking short breaks was something now seen to help some Padawans connect even more with the Force on their own time. Time to rest, rejuvenate and create a stronger bond with the force had been how the short break had been described to the group of Padawans that had earned the time away from the temple. Although the trip wasn’t necessarily used for its intended purpose, and most of the Council likely knew that, it continued to prove to be successful for the Padawans and Masters to take a short time away from each other.

“Ahh yes you went to the beaches of Naboo with some of the other Padawans if I’m correct?” Obi-Wan spoke up. Lyra forgot how normal most conversations felt prior to High Council meetings occurring. Although there were some formalities, like her need to stand next to her Master and the ability to speak only if addressed during the meetings, prior to their start it often felt like catching up with old friends.

Lyra uncrossed her arms and pulled out a holoprojector from her robes. “Yes it was fantastic!” An image pulled up on Lyra’s projector of her and Astrid, one of the Padawans she has formed a rather close friendship with, at a beach. Lyra had on a blue metallic wrap bikini and held her purple, double bladed lightsaber in her left hand, both blades ignited and locked with Astrid’s green saber. “Don’t look at that! I didn’t even bring my lightsaber with me.” Ki-Adi-Mundi let out a small laugh as Lyra quickly tried to get the image to switch but it just turned to an image of her slicing some type of tropical fruit in half with one of her blades. She felt her face flush as the council members nearby began to laugh.

“You’re nearly a Jedi Knight, Lyra.” Mace spoke up, “you're trusted to take your lightsaber where you please. Besides we all did questionable things in our younger years, much of it just wasn’t documented in the same way.”

Lyra’s projector switched to an image of her and Biggs in the water of Naboo, the Tooka Cat sitting on her head while a silver scalloped bikini hugged her body and a pair of rather stylish sunglasses sat on the bridge of her nose. What Lyra didn’t see though, while she was flicking through the images, was the way Anakin’s eyes widened seeing so much of her skin uncovered. Little was left to his imagination and he cleared his throat, turning to see who else had arrived to the meeting thus far.

While Lyra had begun her training at the academy at the age of four, Anakin, who was two years her elder, didn’t arrive until he was nine. And in the nine years the two had trained together, neither had seen the other in anything less than their robes. Until now that was, and Anakin couldn’t quite place the feeling that began to swim low in his stomach at the sight of Lyra in such little clothing. The metallic material made her blue eyes shine more than usual and she was incredibly well muscled while still having curves in just the right places .

“The break, I hope you enjoyed. Working again, you must begin.” Master Yoda spoke once Lyra tucked away her holoprojector.

“Of course Master Yoda,” Lyra nodded her head once, “I’m glad to be back to training; too much of a break isn’t good for me.” She nodded in toward master Yoda before turning to Anakin. “Did you do anything with the time off you were given, Anakin?” The boy seemed to feel very awkward in the space and Lyra noticed his face growing slightly redder, and while they had their differences at times Lyra still wanted Anakin to feel welcome in the new space.

Hearing his name caused Anakin to dial back into the conversation taking place in front of him and he stammered for a moment before formulating his response. “Obi-Wan and myself traveled to Alderaan for a meeting with the royal family.” Anakin’s posture relaxed more as he spoke. No longer standing stiffly with his feet shoulder width apart next to Obi-Wan. “It was a rather nice visit, although it doesn’t seem as leisurely as yours, Lyra.”

Lyra felt her lip twitch and she motionlessly raised a small round fruit from the table in the center of the room and flicked it at Anakin’s head. The sphere making contact with the center of his forehead before falling on the floor. Anakin knew that she had been on a mission for two months prior to being given her break, a mission during which she was cut off from everyone and everything she knew.

Anakin’s hand twitched and Lyra saw another fruit begin to rise from the bowl moments before Obi-Wan lifted his hand and directed it to his palm, handing it promptly to Biggs who still sat curled on his lap. “Must Mace and I have you two spar like when you were younglings to level your differences?” Biggs chewed loudly on the fruit but glanced between Obi-Wan and Anakin, as if he knew what was occurring in front of him.

“No Master.”

“No Master Obi-Wan.”

“Very well,” Obi-Wan directed his attention away from Anakin and Lyra and to the other Jedi Masters who had just begun the meeting and Lyra knew that again bumping shoulders with Anakin every day would soon drive her to her breaking point.

#anakin skywalker #anakin #anakin skywalker imagine #anakin skywalker fanfiction #anakin imagine #anakin fanfiction #star wars imagine #anakin x oc #anakin skywalker x oc #star wars fanfiction #anna writes #red line

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