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#entering bespin
lovegrowsart · 2 months
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it's pretty wild to me that people don't see that aang running off to save katara in CoD is his luke in empire strikes back moment, where he runs headlong into his want and attachment and he's narratively punished for doing so and not learning his lesson - aang runs after katara despite guru pathik's warning, like luke runs after leia and han from yoda on dagobah despite yoda's warning; similarly, as a result, things go to hell in ba sing se like they do on bespin - aang enters the avatar state before he's ready and gets killed, and ba sing se falls to the fire nation, luke fights vader before he's ready, loses a hand, and symbolically commits suicide after vader tells him he's luke's father.
the difference between their character arcs is that george lucas and co. actually went thru with luke's hero's journey and understood the fundamental difference between attachment and love, whereas I don't think bryke understood this difference and then dropped this from aang's arc pretty much completely and replaced it with aang digging in his heels into his want and attachment and he gets rewarded with energy bending from a lion turtle, the avatar state from a random pointy rock, and his forever girl from the self-indulgent white men that couldn't bring themselves to give their hero a compelling character arc that meant he might not have gotten everything he wanted at the end.
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multifanderwrites · 2 months
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| Previous Scene- Torture |
[TW: Darth Vader behavior… as in, he’s definitely the asshole here. I’m, like, at the top of the list of people who will defend Anakin Skywalker to the moon and back but, uh… yeah, this shit’s fucked. He terrorizes a nine year old girl. Oh, also, Han Solo frozen in carbonite. *sigh* I’m so sorry for what you’re about to read]
{The Carbon Freezing Chamber}
(Darth Vader inspects the chamber) “This facility is crude, but it should be adequate to freeze Skywalker and Everdeen for their journey to the Emperor.”
(An officer enters) “Lord Vader, ship approaching, X-wing class.”
“Good. Monitor Skywalker and Everdeen, and allow them to land.”
(The officer walks away. Lando approaches) “Lord Vader, we only use this facility for carbon freezing. You put them in there, it might kill them.”
“I do not want the Emperor’s prizes damaged. We will test it… on Captain Solo.”
(Lando watches Darth Vader walk away. He’s certain that he’s got to do something. But what?)
{Bespin}
(In silence, Luke descends into the atmosphere. Katniss watches him as he flies: he looks just like Anakin from this angle. Oh god. What am I gonna do?)
{Carbon Freezing Chamber}
(Our group of captive characters are led by Boba Fett to the top of the platform. C-3P0 is on Chewbacca’s back) “If only you’d attached my legs, I wouldn’t be in this ridiculous position! Now remember, Chewbacca, you have a responsibility to me. So don’t do anything foolish!”
(As Darth Vader walks down the steps, he eyes Naomi. He still has the pipe cleaner that she left behind on Hoth. Han, in handcuffs, greets Lando) “What’s going on… buddy?”
“You’re being put into carbon freeze.”
(Fett walks over to Vader) “What if he doesn’t survive? He’s worth a lot to me.”
“The Empire will compensate you if he dies.” (Before the process begins, Vader has one more thing to do. With the purple pipe cleaner in his hand, he walks to Naomi. She trembles in fear of him… and this pleases him) “Oh. Am I not your comfort character?”
(The Doctor puts his arm around Naomi’s shoulder, pulls her to him protectively) “What do you think, my lord?”
(Naomi swallows the scream of terror threatening to escape her throat before she asks…) “What do you want?”
(Vader gives her the pipe cleaner) “You dropped this.”
(Naomi is stunned, but mostly scared. This has to be a trick of some kind. Peter, also very scared) “Just take it!”
(Making sure that she doesn’t touch his palm, Naomi quickly grabs the pipe cleaner from Vader’s hand. The minute she has the purple thing in her hands, she begins to stim) “Th-Thank you.”
“Do not lose it again.” (He turns his attention to Dorothy, who is- in case you forgot- nine years old. Vader gets on one knee [fffffffffffffffuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuccccccccccckkkkkkkkk!] and tells her…) “Your sister… will go in there. I want you to see what will happen to her when she comes out. For your father’s sake… don’t look away.”
(Sarah, very protective of her family, spits on Darth Vader’s helmet. As he stands, she looks him straight in the eye and says…) [literally inspired by what Amanda said in the nerd edition of Reading Reddit Stories] “You can walk into traffic.” [now, this is peak Madison McLaughlin in a CW show] “If that doesn’t work, go to hell.”
(Darth Vader is silent for a beat as wipes the spit from his helmet. Then… he grabs Sarah’s jaw harshly, causing her to yell in pain. But Vader is barely holding it) [is it because… family???? I’ll just leave it up to you] “The only reason you’re not dead… is because of your friend there.” (He glances at the Doctor) “Be more mindful of your behavior… vampire.” (He releases her jaw before turning to the Ugnaughts) “Put Solo in.”
(Chewbacca immediately begins to freak out, throwing three of the stormtroopers surrounding Han off the platform) *Han and C-3P0 respectively, overlapping lines* “Stop, Chewie! Stop!” “Oh, no! No, no, no! Stop, Chewbacca, stop!”
(The Doctor goes to hold the Wookiee back, but Naomi stops him. Still, the Doctor calls…) “Chewbacca, you have to stop!”
(Han walks up to his co-pilot) “Stop! You hear me?”
(3P0, really not liking his position) “Yes, stop, please! I’m not ready to die!”
(Chewbacca is still very upset and thrashing about… but Han is the only person who can get through to him) “Hey! Hey! Listen to me, Chewie.” (Chewbacca cries as he’s restrained by stormtroopers, and the crying gets worse as he’s cuffed. But he does listen to Han) “Chewie, this won’t help me!” (Another cry) “Hey. Save your strength. There’ll be another time.” (The stormtroopers walk away. Darth Vader, beside Boba Fett once more, watches Han say goodbye to his furry companion) “The Princess… you have to take care of her.” (At that moment, Leia walks over to the Wookiee. The rest of the group joins Leia in comforting Chewbacca) “And you’ve gotta take care of them too. They’re risking everything… for us. Don’t let that be in vain, old pal.” (A soft growl) “You hear me? Huh?”
(Another roar: I’ll protect our friends. Han and Leia look at each other… and in a moment of desperation, they kiss. But it’s over far too soon, for Han is pulled backwards by a stormtrooper. Leia watches her dashing space pirate get in place for the process that… might as well be his death. And what terrible timing, for the Princess of Alderaan has finally accepted the truth…) “I love you!”
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(And, in true Han Solo fashion, the smuggler replies…) “I know.”
(As the Ugnaughts make their final adjustments, Han looks at each of his friends. The Ugnaughts are away within moments, allowing the carbon freeze process to begin. Even as the hydraulic platform begins to slowly lower into the chamber, his eyes remain fixed on the group… but especially Leia. It’s not until the steam comes out that Han is forced to close his eyes. Leia can’t watch this horrific procedure, buries her face in Chewbacca’s stomach. The Doctor keeps his eyes on Darth Vader, his anger burning like a star. Naomi and Sarah have to look away, even though they’ve seen this before. However, this is the real deal. It’s the other side of the screen… and it’s worse on the other side. Peter hugs Wendy, feeling as though he could be next. Dorothy is unable to look away… out of fear for her sister, and out of love for her father. Only one of these characters can’t see what’s happening here) “What’s going on? Turn around! Chewbacca, I can’t see!” (From above, a huge metal tong reaches into the vat- overflowing with steam- and pulls out the rectangular prison in which Han Solo has been frozen. The entire group can see the man’s face- eyes shut, mouth open in a silent scream- as the block is placed onto the floor next to the vat. A bunch of Ugnaughts come to ensure that the block of carbonite is secured. And, with a loud bang, they push it down onto its back. This allows the group to see what’s become of their friend Han Solo. Lando walks over, kneeling to inspect the status of his former friend encased in carbonite. Chewbacca turns slightly, allowing the droid on his back to see what’s happened) “Oh. They’ve encased him in carbonite. He should be quite well protected, if he survived the freezing process, that is.”
(Dorothy, having been focused on watching this process, is definitely traumatized) “Han.”
(Darth Vader is growing increasingly… impatient… concerned… who knows. Regardless, he speaks) “Well, Calrissian, did he survive?”
*I fucking hate my life, I’ve done awful things today* “Yes, he’s alive. And in perfect hibernation.”
(Vader turns to Fett) “He’s all yours, bounty hunter.” (He walks over to Dorothy, kneels to speak with her at her level) [dude… not cool. I know you’re in a ton of agony right now but this is fucked up. But oh well. Just Vader things- What the fuck is wrong with me? I’m so sorry] “Well? What are your thoughts?”
(Dorothy trembles… but musters up the courage to respond) “She’s going to hate it. She’s probably going to hate you.”
*mock 🥺… but maybe not so mocking? 🤷‍♀️* “And do you hate me?”
“What answer is the one that doesn’t kill me?” [these are things a nine year old should not be saying!!!!!!!!]
(Surprisingly not satisfied with the reply, Vader stands. He then turns to the Ugnaughts) “Reset the chamber for Skywalker and Everdeen.”
(Just in time) “Skywalker and his backer have just landed, my lord.”
“Good. See to it that they find their way in here.” (Lando walks to the group, takes Leia’s arm. She pulls it away from him, too fixated on the frozen state of Han) *Darth Vader OC* “Calrissian, take the Princess, her backer, the Wookiee and the other paradoxists to my ship.”
(Lando, shocked) “You said they’d be left in the city under my supervision.”
[hey. You said the thing. I hate you, but I love you. So much. HONEY!!!! WE SHOULDVE GOTTEN YOU THERAPY! 😭😭😭😭😭😭] “I am altering the deal. Pray I don’t alter it any further.”
(Vader starts walking away… but he turns back. The Doctor is the one he’s looking at. Silence before the Doctor says…) “You draw power from your anger and hatred. Well… so do I, in a sense. But what you really need to know… is that Katniss Everdeen… is better than you will ever be.”
(Darth Vader moves close to the Doctor… and purposefully messes up the red bow tie around the Time Lord’s neck) “Glad to know we can still agree on something… Doctor.” (And at last, Vader exits. Lando glances at Lobot, silently beginning to formulate a plan)
| Next Scene- The Fateful Duel and A Risky Escape |
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firealder2005 · 1 year
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Whumpcember 2022 Day. 21 SELF-HATE
Featuring: Luke Skywalker Having Yet Another Bad Day. and gets the courage to confide in Leia. in a prison cell.
AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/43616676
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Luke stared at the cell bars separating him and Leia from their weapons, escape, and freedom.
After years and years of close calls and triumphant escapes…the Empire had finally caught them.
He and Leia were on board the Star Destroyer Accuser , being transported to Vader’s command ship Executor .
To his father’s command ship.
The father he had been keeping a secret from his best friend ever since Bespin…
And they were going to be taken to him.
Come face-to-face with him.
Darth Vader, who tortured Leia.
Darth Vader, who effortlessly sliced Luke’s hand off.
Darth Vader…the father he’d been denying for so long.
Luke rested his chin in his hands, staring vacantly ahead. If Vader was his father…what did that make him ?
He had looked up to his father, to Anakin Skywalker, for so long, had longed to know him, had wanted to be like him , to make him proud .
But all that came crashing down with five little words spoken by the man who Luke believed to have killed his father.
No… I am your father.
Luke shuddered slightly, closing his eyes and tried to block out the memories.
If Vader was his father, and Luke shared his blood…did that make him-
Did that make him like Vader?
What parts of Luke came from Vader? Ben had only told him of the good in Anakin Skywalker - amazing pilot, cunning warrior, a good friend… - but none of the bad.
Luke bitterly smiled. Maybe that’s another reason why the truth(?) had hit him so hard. He had built up this perfect picture of Anakin, an idol to model himself after, and never even thought to ask about the darker side of him - the side people were usually careful not to notice, especially in their heroes.
Like Anakin.
Like Vader .
Uncle Owen’s voice entered his mind then, a slight scolding tone but soft all the same; Luke, you never want to meet your heroes. You’ll only be disappointed. You see them as one thing - a flawless picture - but in reality…they are as human as the rest of us.
Luke blew out a small puff of air, smiling a bit at his uncle’s words.
Or, well, I guess I should say sentient as the rest of us, but it doesn’t have the same ring to it, does it? Uncle Owen had fumbled over his words trying to amend his statement, but either way, he was right.
Never meet your heroes, for they will disappoint you.
And Luke had learned that the hard way.
Force, he had been so stupid to ignore Ben and Master Yoda’s advice.
Why hadn’t he listened to them?
(Why didn’t they tell you the truth? A snide voice mocked. Luke pushed that thought away, not wanting to dwell on the possible reasons.)
“Luke?” Leia’s voice came from the cell next door. “You okay? You’ve been rather quiet.”
Luke glanced away from the cell bars and instead looked at the ones separating him and Leia. “Just…thinking,” he admitted, rubbing his pants as his palms began to sweat, despite the cool, filtered air in the detention level.
Leia studied his face, his eyes that were avoiding her gaze, and knelt down so she was pressed right up against the bars and reached her hand through, beckoning with a flourish of fingers.
Luke let a smile form and he scooted over to her, grasped her hand, and she pulled him into a hug - well, as close to a hug as they could get with bars in the way.
“Wanna talk about it?” she whispered, eying the slowly revolving camera moving away from their position. Luke had timed how long it would take to move back over to them when they had initially been captured and he hadn’t let himself focus on his upcoming meeting with Vader.
Maybe this wasn’t the ideal place for a confession, but…
They had time.
He trusted Leia, even if he was terrified she would hate him.
He had to let it out. He couldn’t keep it in anymore.
Luke rested his cheek against the cold bars, barely moved his lips, and uttered his deepest, darkest secret;
“Vader…he-he told me that,” he took a shuddering breath, cursing himself. “He told me that he was my father.”
He felt Leia jolt, felt her wave of surprise, shock, and confusion.
But no hate.
No anger - at least, none directed at him.
No fear.
He finally let himself relax, comforted by the truth that Leia didn’t hate him - oh, she hated Vader all right. Despised him with every fiber of her being.
But she didn’t hate Luke .
“Was that what…” Leia trailed off, and Luke glanced up, seeing her biting her lip. “What the dreams…?”
“Yes,” he confessed. “After he cut off my h-hand, he told me that he was my father.”
“You’re certain?” she quietly asked as the camera paused, staying still as it’s lens focused on the opposite side of the detention level. “What if he was lying? To manipulate you?”
“It’s possible,” Luke admitted. Force knew he was still wary of accepting it. But… “The Force can tell when someone’s lying,” he explained. “It’s something I’ve always been able to do - I guess that’s never why I truly believed my father to be dead for so long. I knew that’s what Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru believed, but something always told me that it wasn’t true…and the Force didn’t deny what Vader said.”
Leia was frowning. “But…didn’t General Kenobi say Vader killed your father? Why would he say that if Vader is him?”
Luke gave a helpless shrug. “I don’t know. He said that Vader “betrayed and murdered” my father. I don't know how else to interpret that than the obvious.”
Leia hummed in agreement, looking thoughtful as she gripped his hand.
“No matter what happens,” she suddenly said as the camera started to pan back over to them. “I’ll be there. I’ll be there with you when we confront Vader. I’ll be there for you if he tries to manipulate you. Heck, I’ll be glad to be there when you talk to General Kenobi again. Wish I could actually see him though so I can give him a piece of my mind!”
Luke huffed out a short burst of laughter. “I’ll be sure to pass on the message.” he grinned, feeling much lighter.
With Leia here with him, he knew he’ll be able to face the truth, no matter what it was, and push through it.
Because he could always count on her to help him get back on his feet.
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tcsaveyou · 7 months
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whats that one weird food combination that everyone else thinks is gross but they think is delicious?
where do they put their shoes when they come home from a long day?
after a vacation, do they immediately unpack or slowly retrieve items from their suitcase until its empty?
how often do they do self-reflection?
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whats that one weird food combination that everyone else thinks is gross but they think is delicious?
sernpidalian mayo-ketchup in bantha cheese noodles. nobody will touch it after he's gotten into it.
where do they put their shoes when they come home from a long day?
i was going to say he leaves them by the door, but, sadly, i think luke is a messy boy. we never see him remove his shoes entering a place in canon, so i'm guessing he just wears them around the house. to be fair to him, he was mostly getting sand on / in them while he was growing up, and there was no keeping sand out of the home. if he steps in something, he'll sit and clean them before tracking it in, but i don't think he notices general dirt. huge f for shoes-by-the-door people, the f stands for farm.
after a vacation, do they immediately unpack or slowly retrieve items from their suitcase until its empty?
slowly retrieve. what if he needs to pack again suddenly? gotta have that bag ready!
how often do they do self-reflection?
this boy did not start seriously reflecting on himself until after bespin. part of that was just. being nineteen / twenty. and that wasn't to say he never, like, considered his own actions or questioned his own behavior, but i don't think he had either the motivation or the framework to do so in a constructive, mature manner until later. i think there are times after the war when his self-reflection can spiral into something more obsessive, bordering on self-flagellation. consistent, effective self-reflection is a skill that has to be maintained, and sometimes he slips.
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dotcolorful · 1 year
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Day 1 - A LITTLE OUT OF THE ORDINARY
Adverse effects | Unconventional restraints | “This wasn't supposed to happen”
Read it on AO3 here!
The boy hung limp in his restraints, blood seeping from a deep cut on his forehead. It wasn’t his only wound - numerous gashes and lacerations marred his soft features, the waxen skin that covered his shaking arms and legs. There were even more wounds hidden under his prison-issued tunic - though hidden was hardly the appropriate word. The blood staining the beige fabric was enough to betray their presence. The boy looked pale, cold; and still, sweat wept streaks down his temples.
Imperial interrogation was never pretty.
It’s not what Vader wanted for his son. It was what the boy had chosen for himself when he’d joined the Rebellion, when he’d refused his father on Bespin and continued fighting him every step of the way. It was what he’d chosen when he fought the troopers who captured him on Ryloth - freeing prisoners, might he add, which seemed almost ironic in light of later events - and what he’d chosen when he refused to answer the questions of those who first interrogated him, refused to betray the location of the Rebel base.
It was only after the local Imperial garrison realized who exactly they had on their hands that they summoned the Dark Lord.
At first, Vader felt satisfaction when he learned that the boy had been captured. Finally, his son could avoid his fate no longer. But then, anger struck as he was told that the boy had resisted interrogation, that despite ruthless questioning, he still refused to give up.
He’d hoped his son had learned his lesson of Bespin, but it seemed the boy still did not know when to stop.
And now, as he hung suspended before the Dark Lord, his foolishness had not yet been eradicated.
“I grow tired of this, my son,” he rumbled, approaching Luke’s shaking form. The boy averted his gaze, refusing to look at his father; fresh blood seeped from the cuts on his face at the movement.
“...s-so do I,” his son whispered.
Still defiant. Still refusing to back down.
“It is pointless to resist, Luke. We both know I will get what I want.”
A harsh cough, a tight grimace of pain. “I w-won’t… make i-it easier… for y-you.”
“Then you are making this harder for no one but yourself.”
The boy’s eyes flashed to him, bloodshot and in pain, and a hint of reproach entered his gaze.
“...it is a-already h-hard enough as it i-is,” he forced out. “M-ma..a” he paused, struggling to force the words past his swollen lips. “M-my own f-father is… d-doing this… to m-me.”
If the words caused Vader to feel a pang of guilt, he didn’t show it. “No, boy,” he said instead. “ You are doing this to yourself. Cooperate, and this will be over.”
A humorless smile appeared on Luke’s face. “Y-you know I c-cannot do t-that…” he winced at the end of the word, likely trying to fight another wave of pain passing through his injured body.
The boy was not going to cooperate. Vader knew that.
Which really left him with only one choice.
“Guard,” he called out to the interrogation officer now standing quietly by the door of the cell. “Bring out an IT-O droid.”
Immediately, the boy’s eyes flashed in horror, and a silent pleading resounded through the Force. His whole body tensed as a spherical droid floated into the cell, its terror-striking arms and instruments moving ominously towards him.
“N-no-” he whispered, petrified. “No, please, I--”
Vader didn’t want this. But it had to be done.
“IT-O,” he ordered, mercilessly, though something sick churned in his stomach at the very thought of what he was about to do. “Administer OV600.”
The boy’s eyes turned wild, gaze feral, full of primal fear. His lips moved to say something, anything that would stop this, but the words never made it past his throat. He watched, frozen, as the IT-O floated forward, red sensors already scanning for the most vulnerable spots.
Despite the restraints holding him tight, the boy swung his body to the side in a vain attempt to avoid the fast-approaching droid. But it was hopeless, and the boy knew it; there was no escape once an IT-O had been ordered to administer the drug. Here, in the confined area of the cell, he’d be powerless against the spherical droid even without the restraints. There was nowhere to hide, nowhere to fight.
His son would do well to accept what he could not avoid.
But Luke, it seemed, had no such intentions. He kept struggling and trashing against his bonds; it accomplished him nothing except making an open show of defiance.
…which, Vader suspected, was exactly what his son had wanted to accomplish. With their freedom and comfort taken away, most prisoners turned to the only thing they could preserve: their dignity. Luke was no different.
Still, Vader found himself impressed at his son’s determination and courage - or, rather, would be impressed if the boy’s behavior wasn’t making the task at hand more difficult. His son was simply delaying the inevitable; and the sooner they both got over with it, the better.
Because there was nothing pleasurable about interrogating his own son.
But it was his duty, and it had to be done.
“Quit struggling,” he growled when Luke did not cease wrestling against his bonds. His son froze for a moment - out of sheer instinct rather than anything else - but that was all the IT-O droid needed. Motors whirring, it extended its skeletal arm towards the boy's neck and injected him with the drug.
It worked immediately. Vader watched, impassively, as the boy went limp in an instant, his breathing slowing, his head falling forward as he lost all control of his muscles. To an untrained eye, the reaction might have looked like unconsciousness. Vader was no stranger to interrogation techniques, though; he knew very well that the sudden loss of strength and motor skills was a typical side effect of OV600.
It wouldn’t last long; it usually took prisoners no more than a minute to rally back up, their strength and awareness returning to them, but mind now pressured to say nothing but the truth. The drug reacted with the captive’s physical body; it sensed when the prisoner was lying and would cause their skin to break out in a painful rash when they did. It was a sophisticated interrogation technique - one that gave the captive an illusion of a choice, a deluded sense that if they only said the truth, then they could avoid pain.
Vader just hoped the boy would make the right choice, for both his father’s sake and his own.
But so far, the boy was not making any choice at all. Was not doing anything , in fact, still hanging from the restraints limply and barely breathing.
It’s been well over a minute. The initial side effects should have already passed.
“Luke,” he prompted, stepping towards his son, trying to break him out of his stupor. “Look at me.”
But there was no movement, no indication of any awareness at all.
“Luke,” he repeated, a little more forcefully. “Open your eyes. Look at me.”
Again, there was no answer.
Irritation surged through Vader, anger stirred within. The boy was defying him; that was all there was to it. It had to be. The drug was supposed to increase the clarity of mind to ensure that the prisoners’ confessions and memories were not faulty. There was no reason for the boy to present as weak and disoriented as he was. No reason at all, unless…
Unless he was pretending.
Unless he believed that if he appeared weak, then perhaps he would receive mercy.
His son was taking him for a fool.
He reached for Luke’s chin angrily, grasping it in a painful grip. “Enough with the theatrics, boy,” he growled, tightening his hold. “You are naive if you believe this behavior could fool me.”
No response.
He squeezed the bruised cheeks harder, raised the boy’s head so that it was at one level with his father’s.
Immediately, realization struck him.
His son’s face was swollen.
His cheeks, his eyelids -- his entire flesh looked as if it had been stung by thousands of bees. His first thought was that it was the side effect of the drug - the painful rash that would break on the victim's body after telling a lie - but that was impossible. His son hadn’t had the chance to lie yet, after all - Vader hadn’t asked him any questions. Then what…?
He broke out of his thoughts as he suddenly saw Luke’s eyes finally open. He watched as the  swollen eyelids parted, revealing the vibrant blue eyes… except they weren’t vibrant. Far from it.
They were pale .
They were dull.
And worst of all, they looked drunk.
… There wasn’t really a better way to describe it. Luke’s eyes held the look of the shyster men at the bars on Coruscant that Anakin had visited as a teenager.
Take a deathstick, eh? They’re good, eh?
It was the semi-conscious stare of someone who’s had one too many.
Something quiet whispered at the back of Vader’s mind. A dark threat, a warning that something terrible was about to happen.
Leather creaked as his mechanical hand tightened even more around the boy’s chin.
“Luke,” he addressed the boy again, hoping that actual questioning could rouse him. “Focus. Tell me where the Rebel base is.”
But his son kept staring at him, and again, Vader felt an uneasy pang stab at his heart. This… this wasn’t the dreamy look of someone trapped in an alcoholic state. This wasn’t the blissful gaze of someone who had just taken spice. No, this was… this was something different, something much, much worse, for the boy’s eyes looked…
Disoriented. Agonized. Afraid.
Haunted.
“...father…” the boy gasped out suddenly, finally finding his focus, his voice. “...I can’t…”
He paused, losing his voice again. Vader’s fingers tightened.
“Stop groveling. Tell me where the base is.”
Swollen lips moved again and Vader braced himself, waiting for another sound, another attempt at mercy leaving his son’s lips…
…only to see foamy saliva trail out of Luke’s mouth and dribble down his chin instead. In an instant, he let go of the boy’s face, but it was too late; the saliva had already stained his gloves, continuing to fall from his mouth even as Vader stepped away.
“I’m sorry--” came a quiet whisper, filled with what sounded like embarrassment and guilt. “I didn’t…mean to--”
His voice broke off as a hacking cough burned its way up his throat. He wheezed, trying to take in a breath, choked as he failed to do so. Even after the coughing stopped, his breathing still sounded wheezy, labored, and a terrible thought occurred to Vader.
His son couldn’t breathe.
By the Force, the boy was choking.
“...my Lord?” Came the sudden unsure question of the guard. “Should I… should I summon a medic?”
Yes, Vader wanted to say. It was reasonable. The swelling, the difficulty breathing-- it wasn’t good. It was bad. Something was happening.
“No,” was what he said instead. He didn’t really know why, didn’t really know why he refused to do so. Was it his fear that the boy was fooling him? His need to exercise his superiority, his domination?
A way to prove to himself that he cared nothing about the boy?
Except the boy kept choking.
His son couldn’t breathe.
“My Lord,” the officer spoke again. “Perhaps--”
“Quiet,” Vader interrupted him before the man could finish his sentence. He could sense the unease the guard felt, his pity towards the struggling boy. Loyal or not, many Imperials often opposed interrogation - though, naturally, they would never admit to it out loud. Still, he often felt their reluctance to torture; there was something about maiming a defenseless prisoner that always bothered them.
Perhaps Vader could have related to that if he still had a heart.
Still, more choking sounds. More desperate gasps. More jerks of the bruised body as the boy tried to get in a breath.
This was wrong.
“My lord--”
Something was falling down the boy’s cheeks, he realized, something that looked like tears--
“My lord, I think--”
The boy’s presence was radiating with so much pain--
“My lord, he’s going to--”
PLEASE!
FATHER, PLEASE!
The boy’s scream pierced the Force like a spear, embedding itself precisely in Vader’s heart. He stumbled from the sheer force of the agony that it carried, the sole sense of begging that it was filled with.
Can’t-- Can’t breathe--
The drug--
The Force was shrieking with pain, and Vader was sure his son would be crying as well had he had any air in his lungs.
Please, his son pleaded uselessly in the Force.
Can’t breathe!
Make it stop!
Father, c-can’t breathe…
And suddenly, Vader’s mind caught up to what he should have realized at the very beginning.
His son wasn’t pretending.
It was anaphylaxis.
His son was having--
“He’s having an allergic reaction to the drug,” he said, more to himself than to the guard behind him.
Another mental scream pierced the Force.
And that was all Vader needed to finally get to action.
“Summon a medic!” He ordered the guard. ‘ Now! ”
The next moments had been frantic; later, Vader would find it difficult to remember exactly what had happened.
The officer had rushed out of the cell; this, Vader remembered, still recalled the irregular tapping of his shoes against the polished floor. The officer had already called out through his comm, trying to reach the medics; Vader hadn’t heard that, though. His entire focus was on his son, on his now-blue lips, on the wheezing breaths leaving his throat.
His entire world was narrowed to his frail form, still suspended from his restraints, jerking in a desperate attempt to free himself. His quiet whines of distress escaping his lips whenever he could get a breath in.
Help him!
He didn’t wait long. With a swish of his hand, he opened the bonds that kept his son hanging, catching his body as the boy toppled forward.
“Luke,” he called out uselessly, not knowing what else to do. There was nothing words could do to calm his son, and he wasn’t sure the boy could hear him anyway. His eyes were blown wide, but they were blank, sightless, staring somewhere far past Vader’s form. One of his hands jerked slightly, now free of its restraints, but fell back down before the boy could finish the movement.
“...s-stings…” he wheezed out as if wanting to explain what he’d been trying to do. Once again, Vader’s eyes trailed to the red, swollen skin, the painful rash covering Luke’s body.
His skin seemed lit on fire, his breathing seemed suffocating, and Vader wondered what it felt like to be burning and drowning at the same time.
He’d been through the former before, and it wasn’t something he wished upon his son.
Another hacking cough tore through the boy’s throat, followed by a strangled moan. Whether it was one of pain or fear, Vader did not know.
Most likely, both.
“...c-can’t-- breathe…” Luke forced out, each syllable interrupted by a wheezing inhale. Even Vader’s own mechanical breathing, otherwise always audible, seemed to disappear, deafened by his son’s frantic gasps for air.
It had felt like that in that fire, too, in the burning depths of lava…
Another cough, and suddenly, Vader was broken out of his stupor. Force , he was wasting time, doing nothing!
He propped the boy up, moving him into a more sitting position to ease his breathing. Memories of comfort, ancient feelings of peace and safety guided his hand as he caressed Luke’s forehead, hoping it would soothe him like his own mother’s hands would. He felt clumsy, wrong, even; his hands always brought pain, not comfort, had even hurt his son in the past, and there was no universe in which a caress by Darth Vader could cause anything other than panic…
…but the boy seemed to relax.
His breathing was still ragged, his skin still flushed; but his presence, desperate and panicked until now, seemed to calm down. Slightly.
And finally, the boy met his eyes.
They were bloodshot, his eyelids swollen, but the brilliant blue eyes remained trained on his father. His lips moved as if to say something, but it seemed his airways had constricted to the point where he was unable to produce a sound. His eyes narrowed; and even if Vader could not feel it in the Force, he’d know how desperate Luke was to say something just from the look in his eyes.
“It’s alright,” he soothed, caressing the boy’s forehead again. Did it feel more natural, this second time? “Do not speak. Focus on your breathing. Try to let the air in; don’t fight for it, relax.”
And again, it felt wrong. It was laughable, really: that Vader, the man who had killed so many by choking them, would now implore his son to breathe.
He’d deprived her of her breath, and now he was begging her son to--
Another cough; his fingers tightened around the boy frantically in response. Time was running out - he could feel it slipping through his fingers, escaping with each painful wheeze and choke.
“The medic will be here soon,” he told his son, hoping his words were true. “I’ll keep you safe until then,” he added, knowing it was another promise he wasn’t sure he could keep.
The boy nodded in understanding; Vader hated the trust that filled those blue eyes.
Would a true father know what to do in this situation? Would a true father instinctively know how to protect his own son, how to ease his pain? Vader had more medical experience than most; the war had taught him that much. But his brain felt empty, unable to produce any coherent thought that could be used to help his boy.
And he shouldn’t have even had to know how to save his son in the first place.
Because a true father would never torture his son. A true father would never inject his boy with a drug that he was allergic to. A true father would know what his son’s body could and could not handle, for a true father would have raised his boy, would have known everything he needed to know.
A true father would never, ever hurt his son.
But he wasn’t a true father. Not really. The gasping boy in his arms was his son only in blood. There was no bond between them, no memories they shared - well, apart from the ones both Vader and Luke wished to forget.
…and yet, he loved the boy. And he promised himself that this would be the first loved one he would not allow to die.
So he put his hands on the boy’s chest and pushed everything he had, everything he was, into his son. His strength, his power - he gave it all to the boy, forcing him to live, keeping him alive.
Later, the doctors would say it was a miracle. The medics had arrived later than they should have, and by the time the adrenaline injection had been administered and the boy taken for emergency treatment, it should have been far too late. He should have died in that cell - a sentence that Vader was told more times than he could handle. A miracle, they called it, and in a way, it was true.
Because the last time it mattered, Vader wasn’t able to conjure the power to save one from death before.
But this time, it worked. This time, he had saved his son.
And when some time later his son smiled at him from the medical bed, skin still pale and body still weak but his presence in the Force already stronger, Vader realized that perhaps, he was a father after all.
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artandrhinos · 2 years
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Watching Mortal Engines-
- spoilers ahead -
The cities on wheels is kind of neat.
Hugo Weaving, you are looking as lovely as always.
The woman with his last name, a sister?
Nope, daughter, yup, thanks for reaffirming my age bracket. I'll take attractive, evil father figures for 100, Alex.
Oh, "everything to feed the engines" well, that's where the final fight takes place, with hot, evil dad falling in.
Ah, I see we have an Adora situation where innocent privileged girl learns her dad and his ilk are, in fact, the bad guys.
KLAUS is in this! Damn, his American accent is good (as I had no idea he wasn't.)
As yes, just a small abdominal stab wound, do keep running around.
I'm getting falling-down-Bespin vibes.
So, instead of shooting the one solitary confinement cube we're just going to drown the whole prison. Ok.
Is he her dad?
Oh, the device in her necklace is a shut down key for the "power" source.
Oh, the creepy older people are bad people.
A suit made of buttons, neat.
Anna Fang shows up - a new gender has entered the game. Damn, her whole style is amazing.
None of these catwalks are Osha approved.
Ah the subtle gaze towards the lips.
Bridgerton?
Oh, well done timing of the revelation of what Valentine is building. But really, y'all two walked 1000 steps and aren't winded?
Yup, called it with the necklace.
Bobby! (The Expanse)
"You control nothing." Oh, Oldest, evilest white guy is actually right.
Am I in tears for an immortal robot man? Yes, yes I am.
A shield wall, huh? Gurney, prepare the atomics, let's let the desert in.
"When this body is done, throw my ashes to the wind." Damn, this movie did not come to play.
Preemptive strike, Thrawn would be proud.
Oh hey, praying to Medusa. The eye! Put it together woman!
So here's the deal, I need to be with a ragtag group of frighters taking on the bigger enemy and I send the infiltration crew off to do "the important thing." And I need to have the moment where I tell them, "go on my signal."
And the unlikely leader of that group asks the pivotal question. "What's the signal, how will I know?"
To which I respond, large grin on my face, "oh, you'll know."
Yes, I needs it.
Ah, the convenient 60 second countdown.
I mean, cool fight, but not a great "You'll know." I give it a 6 out of 10 at best.
M.E.D. U.S.A. very nice.
Look, I knew it had to do something with the engines.
That was a very good ending. And no kiss! Pleasantly surprised. Yeah, a good movie. I enjoyed that.
A thank you to niku30_ on Instagram for the recommendation.
I could be persuaded to watch that again.
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dream9art · 1 year
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The Dark Lord of the Sith
April 15, 2023
Darth Vader, with his lightsaber drawn, enters the carbonite freezing chamber to confront Luke Skywalker while in the Cloud City on Bespin.
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anoldstoryteller · 1 year
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44 BBY The search for Talou
We returned to Coruscant immediately. I asked Bori and Eli if they wanted to be left on Coruscant, but they decided to stick with us for a while longer. I left them on the Scarab, as well as Helen, taking Alephi, Iso, and Mivota with me to Tali's penthouse. Mivota insisted that she come because she wanted to stretch her legs and Iso wouldn't leave my side. We entered from the roof access. The penthouse was trashed. Alephi checked the security footage but someone had whipped it clean. Mivota walked around, stopping every so often. Iso scanned over the floor. I walked into the bedroom and found a holoprojector on the night stand. I activated it and a message was played. It showed Tali restrained by a group of men, her mouth gagged and arms bound behind her back. The one in the middle, a weequay, spoke up, "We are taking the fine miss Talou. If you want to find her in one piece then you will deliver one million credits to the Bespin system in three days." He walked over to her and licked her face before turning back to the projector, "Three days." The image cuts out. I could feel my rage boiling over. Mivota walked in and placed a hand on my shoulder, "She is still alright." I brushed her hand off and gathered everyone up. I contacted her manager and told him about the ransom. He said that he couldn't collect that much money in such a short time and that while she was a great star, she wasn't worth that much. He was lucky we were talking over comms otherwise I would have shot him dead. We were on the penthouse roof, Alephi walked over and grabbed my arm, "Kal. You know what we have to do. So don't think too much about it and let's go get her back." I turned around and gave her a hug. I was glad that I had her here to help me. As we made our way back to the Scarab I contacted Helen and told her the situation and to have the ship ready to launch. I wasted no time making my way to the bridge. We were running out of time. The kidnapping was sixty-six hours ago. We had to hurry and pray we made it before they did anything to her. Alephi started punching in the calculations for the Bespin system when Mivota stepped in, "Here use these instead. It should get us there sooner." Alephi looked at me for confirmation. I wasn't certain, rather to trust it. Mivota hasn't shown a reason not to trust her but this was Tali's life we were talking about. I looked at Mivota but she showed such confidence in what she was offering I couldn't refuse. I told Alephi to use her coordinates. It didn't take us long to leave orbit and enter hyperspace. Mivota stayed on the bridge while Alephi, Helen, Bori, Eli, and Iso met me in the cargo hold. I laid out my battle plan and left it open for suggestions. Helen couldn't find anything wrong with it, though it was risky. We were going over the finer details when Mivota spoke over the PA system letting us know we were there.
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awardslong · 1 year
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Lego star wars saga studs
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LEGO STAR WARS SAGA STUDS HOW TO
LEGO STAR WARS SAGA STUDS UPGRADE
LEGO STAR WARS SAGA STUDS FREE
In any case, you can implement this farming method by installing a Walkers near the landing pad. You travel to Coruscant – Federal District while you play Episode 1: The Phantom Menace† Bespin: Cloud City is also a viable location, although you’ll have to go further Episode 5: The Empire Strikes Back† Image: TT Games, Traveller’s Story/Warner Bros.Interactive entertainment Breeding Method #1: Destroy Entire Cities Location: Coruscant – Bespin Federal District – Cloud City LEGO Star Wars: The Legend of Skywalker Stud Farm Locations Image: TT Games, Traveller’s Story/Warner Bros.Interactive entertainment
LEGO STAR WARS SAGA STUDS UPGRADE
This skill is a basic upgrade, so you need to upgrade some other skills first. You can do this by going to the Updates tab on Holoprojector. This farming method is slower if you don’t already have a stud multiplier, but you can pay out the first few multipliers quickly thanks to the respawn of structures around Coruscant.Īlso consider checking” attract asparagusUse as many Kyber Bricks as possible to simplify this farm.
LEGO STAR WARS SAGA STUDS FREE
After unlocking these items, you can go to the Coruscant farm to grow studs in free game mode.Īfter completing the first mission in Episode VI, you can use Rancor instead of Walkers, which is faster and recommended. Coruscant unlocks in the first episode, and the walkers appear after you beat the second episode slightly. The most popular farming method that Grae first posted on YouTube is Coruscant in the Federal District† You can enter and use walkers to easily destroy obstacles on the map, giving you plenty of studs. While you want to unlock them as soon as possible to bring in the studs, you’ll need a hiccup to be able to afford to unlock them. You can buy Stud Multipliers on Holoprojector, but they are expensive and require a data card. How to quickly breed a stallion in LEGO Star Wars: The Skywalker Saga Fortunately, multiple multipliers can be activated at any time. The x2 multiplier requires 2 million studs, while the x10 multiplier requires a whopping 384 million studs.
Additional Features: Bolt Multiplier† These “Cheat Codes” can be found under the Extras tab, and each requires a Data Card.
This can also be upgraded, but you will need Kyber Bricks.
Bounty Hunter: Hidden Bounty Update† If you are using the Bounty Hunter character, enemies you defeat will drop Studs.
Again, if you want to upgrade further, you’ll need Kyber Bricks. You need to pass the first tier of Speedy Sprint, Fast Build, Counter Cash and Extra Health to get this advantage.
Basic Upgrade: Attract Stallions† This allows you to collect studs from further away rather than running around to get them.
There are several ways to boost livestock farming LEGO Star Wars: The Skywalker SagaThey all involve purchasing upgrades: Pressing the corresponding button increases the multiplier and Stud wins.
lightsaber clash† Jedi and other lightsaber wielding characters may collide in combat.
ear studs† During flight missions, you can use the ring to pick up studs in the air.
Environment and destructible objects.† Boxes, poles, obstacles, control panels and various other items can be damaged, resulting in studs.
harmful enemy† Opponents you defeat will award studs based on a multiplier that increases as you score successful hits and combos.
Here’s how you can get studs in the game: Tacos inside LEGO Star Wars: The Skywalker Saga There are four rarity levels: white† yellow† blueyes purple† If you manage to get a lot on the mission (ie represented by the bar at the top of the HUD), you will reach the “True Jedi” level. Quest Quest #3: Ma Klounkee’s most foul side questĮarn Studs in LEGO Star Wars: The Skywalker Saga
5 Breeding Method #2: Echo Base Escape Quest.
4.1 Breeding Method #1: Destroy Entire Cities.
4 LEGO Star Wars: The Legend of Skywalker Stud Farm Locations.
LEGO STAR WARS SAGA STUDS HOW TO
3 How to quickly breed a stallion in LEGO Star Wars: The Skywalker Saga.
1 Earn Studs in LEGO Star Wars: The Skywalker Saga.
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spell-cleaver · 2 years
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Au where post bespin, vader captures luke and has him on the executor and luke just makes it a point to befriend and get on with EVERYONE onbord.... except for Vader
Piett plastered a smile onto his face as he entered the main hangar and found Skywalker exactly where he always was. Perched on a crate watching the pilots and techs work. He sat cross-legged and was chattering away—to whom, Piett could not tell.
He glanced up when he noticed Piett’s presence and bestowed upon him a beaming smile. Piett smiled back. “Commander Skywalker.”
“Admiral Piett.”
“I would like to talk to you.”
Skywalker’s gaze moved past Piett, to the hulking giant lurking behind the nearest TIE fighter and scattering the techs like frightened pigeons. His cheerful expression dropped. “I think I can guess what it’s about.”
“Surely you can try talking to your father.”
“If he apologises for the hand, maybe.”
When Vader started to move towards them, then seemed to think again and jerked to a stop, a startled tech dropped his toolkit. On his foot.
Skywalker winced like he felt his pain himself. “You alright, Dean?”
The tech gave Skywalker a grimace, which was sympathetically returned. “I’ll live.”
“You sure? Amputation is always an option. We have an expert on it right here.”
Dean laughed until he realised who he was talking about, then stopped abruptly.
“You got an ice pack?”
“Yeah, but I’ll be fine. I’ve gotta—”
“Tech,” Piett said sternly, “are you not on duty?”
Dean straightened up abruptly; he’d forgotten Piett was there. “Sir, yes, sir!” He scurried away.
Skywalker turned his gaze back to Piett. “You were saying?”
“I was saying that while your presence on board the ship is friendlier than usual, the icy tension present is difficult to ignore.”
“Really? I— hi Sara!”
“Hi Luke!” The oldest member of Black Squadron walked past, giving him a wave, before she fixed her helmet over her grey, wiry hair and climbed into her TIE fighter.
“Have a safe flight!” Skywalker called after her as she roared out into space on patrol.
Piett cleared his throat. “You should really give your father a chance. You have given the rest of the Imperials present a chance.”
“None of the other Imperials attacked me personally or tortured my friends!” Skywalker chirped. “Well, except General Veers. But he was very pragmatic about it, he was still doing his job. How is he doing? I put him in touch with Zev again, but I was worried how it might go.”
“Oh, it’s gone wonderfully, they’ve been chatting every day and are slowly growing closer and closer again.” He shook his head. “I am begging you, Commander, you need to give your father a chance.”
“I’ve given him a lot of chances!” And, to highlight his point, Skywalker glared at Vader.
That snapped whatever thin cord had been holding Vader back. He stormed forwards, nearly flattening three more techs, and planted himself in front of Skywalker, hands on his hips. His bulk was large enough he blocked almost all of Skywalker’s view of the hangar.
“Luke,” Vader boomed. “This is ridiculous.”
“Almost as ridiculous as your cape.” Skywalker froze after he said it, like he hadn’t intended for a twelve-year old to possess him for a second.
“I am your father. I would like to know you and have a relationship with you. Cease your refusal to talk to me.”
“It’s hard to talk to someone too thick to see past his own mask. Or see what damage,” Skywalker lifted his prosthetic hand and waggled his fingers, “has been done.”
“I am well aware of what has happened. The loss of your hand was regrettable, but amputations are not uncommon and—”
There was a loud beeping. Skywalker turned away from Vader and his face lit up again when he spotted a little mouse droid zooming for him. “Emwun!”
M1 cheeped happily, chattering to him. Skywalker talked back, back to ignoring his father and Piett. “Really? That sounds great, I’d love to come see. Lead the way.” He stood up, but Vader caught his arm.
“Cease this childishness. You are my son. Act like it.”
Skywalker yanked his arm back. “Act like a father, then,” he said, in the coldest, most cutting voice Piett had ever heard from him.
Then he walked away, leaving Vader gaping at his back.
M1 blew an electronic raspberry at Vader before following.
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phoenixyfriend · 3 years
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Uncle Ben and Little Luke
AKA we combine several types of time travel for maximum Soft Chaos, let’s go
EDIT NOW THAT I’VE WRITTEN THIS UP: jfc this ended up much angstier than initially intended uhhhhhhhhhh sorry
So a common enough thing I’ve seen in time travel fics is characters getting de-aged when tossed back physically, to neither the age they should be in that time, nor the age they were from the time they left, but whatever is most convenient. This is usually de-aging OT Obi-Wan into his TCW self, for reasons relating to, chiefly, removing the damage of Tatooine absolutely destroying his body alongside PTSD-driven alcoholism, but also because fic writers are horny, and Ewan McGregor playing a late-thirties negotiator is on average more appealing to people than Alec Guinness playing a vaguely feral desert hermit.
So, here’s how it plays out:
We take Luke and Ben from some point in the OT. There are a variety of options depending on how angsty we want it to be. My first instinct is ‘right after Owen and Beru die’ but I want to have that sweet angst where Luke knows that his dad is Vader and that Obi-Wan was trying to convince him to kill his own father without telling him that.
We’ll go with shortly after Bespin, and then they end up significantly before TPM. The Obi-Wan of the timeline proper is, eh, let’s say eighteen. Not really ready to be a knight, but old enough that we don’t have to worry about “if we go save Shmi, do we somehow wipe out Anakin?” which is absolutely a worry. Anakin is a toddler, and is in no place to be evil, on account of being literally two years old. He can’t even explode people with his brain yet.
Now, Ben finds himself mid-thirties, as is traditional. He’s not upset at this, because his joints hurt so much less than they used to! His knees aren’t exactly teenage-perfect, but by the Force are they better than they were in the years before he died! His hair has color! He doesn’t have arthritis! And, goodness, no physical withdrawal symptoms! The psychological aspect is still there, but nonetheless, he’s in much better shape than he last remembers being.
Luke looks like he’s about six. He was recently twenty-two. This is not an upgrade. Ben keeps having to carry him. He can’t see over the counter when they enter a bar for information. He can’t enter the bar in the first place. He’s very annoyed by all of this.
Ben is not annoyed. Ben is having a lot of emotions, actually, but annoyance isn’t one of them. He didn’t get to help raise Luke the way he might have if Anakin hadn’t lost his shit, okay, he sees a small Luke and he wants to hug him and cry.
Luke would like to be able to purchase a speeder part without the lady at the stall asking him if he needs his “dad’s” permission.
Once they figure out when and where they are, they need to decide where and how to leave. There are general shenanigans to gamble their way into enough money to hire a ship. They are in the ass end of nowhere, but definitely not Tatooine. There appears to be a jungle. There appears to be a significant variety of man-eating creatures. There appears to be a temple to the Force of questionable origin. None of this is actually helpful, except for the moment they find a “baby’s first lightsaber” in the temple.
Luke only has one hand and, being a six-year-old, his body is growing too fast for him to bother with getting a wired-in prosthesis the way he could as an adult. He can get a more basic prosthesis, but nothing that attaches to the neurons. He’ll outgrow it too fast.
He’s tiny and he’s not used to doing things with just one hand. He uses the Force to do what one hand can't, and every time someone tries to tell him he's misusing the Force he whaps them with the empty sleeve.
So, you know, they find out what year it is. Ben has a breakdown. Luke is upset that he left behind his friends. Ben admits to him that Leia was his twin. Luke stares in horror because dude, she kissed him, you couldn’t have mentioned this earlier???
Ben points out that Beru and Owen were keeping Luke away from him for nineteen years, and then they had about three days of awkward travel to find Leia in the first place, and then Ben died. He didn’t have a whole lot of time to figure out how to tell him.
(This sparks an argument that lasts several days. All onlookers assume that Ben’s son is throwing a tantrum. He doesn’t correct them, even though this is a very valid reason to be upset, because the truth is much harder to explain.)
Sooooo they travel. Mostly, Ben plays Sabacc, cleans house, and pays their way towards Coruscant. Luke still really wants to learn to be a Proper Jedi, even though Ben is pretty sure that Luke would have... a lot of difference of opinion with the Temple, but sure. Coruscant. They can at least stop by, and see Qui-Gon, and Mace, and Quinlan, and Bant, and everyone else that’s still alive and not tragically deceased in the horror following the start of the Clone Wars and then the birth of the Empire, and Ben can have a nice sob over all his dead friends being alive again.
Ben is only barely holding it together while Luke is in the room with him at any given point. But it’s fine! It’s fine. He’s fine. All of his loved ones have come back to life! It’s great! HE’S FINE.
He is not fine.
Luke is also grieving all the people who haven’t been born yet, but he’s... significantly more okay than Ben is.
The closer they get to the Core, the more often people just assume Ben is Luke’s father, and then look shocked and uncomfortable when Luke flatly calls him by his name, and they just... compromise. This is the point at which Luke starts calling him “Uncle Ben.”
Ben cries in his bunk later that night. Luke overhears it and wonders how the HELL Ben is more unstable now, when there’s a chance to fix things and no Vader or Empire trying to kill or capture both of them, and all his friends are alive.
(Luke will later learn a lot about PTSD and realize this is actually a fairly normal situation, to process significant events and emotions only after gaining safety or catharsis.)
(Twenty years on a ball of sand with an alcohol addiction and debilitating fear of the man you raised as your own brother is not, in fact, safe or cathartic.)
At any rate, they’ve settled into that pattern by the time they reach the Inner Rim. The Inner Rim is the part of the galaxy at which they’ve collected enough money (and mental stability) to travel a little better, and to take a few more risks.
Risks like “manipulate people with those baby blues.”
Ben tells Luke that he’s a menace, after he pouts so cutely that he gets a free scarf added on to a purchase that Ben makes. Luke responds that Ben has no room to talk, since he flirted a free breakfast out of that one inn owner.
Also, Luke is currently physically six. That is objectively a situation that sucks. He deserves to use it for all it’s worth if he’s stuck like this.
“You know, if you keep wearing all-black and looking longingly at the velvet cape and Space Chanel boots, the temple is going to worry that you’re a darksider.”
“Uncle Ben... you told me, yesterday, that I sparkle so brightly in the Force that it’s almost blinding.”
“Yes, but the gloves--”
They don’t agree on this, but Ben relents. He does actually understand good fashion, unfortunately, and he’s not unaware of how much Leia taught Luke about such things.
Luke’s about forty years ahead of the curve, of course, but Skywalkers are prone to such things. It’s usually in regards to technology, granted, but...
They get to Coruscant. Ben is very obviously a Jedi. He knows all the right words and walks like a Soresu master and feels warm and comforting in the Force. They let him in with minimal questions. They note down “my first padawan left the order to have a child, but died shortly after; I consider Luke here to be my nephew, and have raised him as such,” and move on.
Luke is vaguely annoyed because he already had an uncle (and aunt) that raised him, but he admits that a person can have more than one uncle. He can live with this. Ben was more family to Anakin than Owen was, in some ways, so it’s kind of true. Luke is even working on feeling more childish affection for Ben instead of the complicated mess of emotions that come from being lied to about some very large and important subjects, and then seeing the person saying those lies have regular emotional breakdowns due to something as small as Luke saying he likes the curve of the hull on that freighter.
(Apparently he sounds just like his father did as a child. This is almost heartwarming.)
The thing is! The thing. The thing is, they almost make it to the Halls of Healing to get looked over for weird viruses, or Outer Rim Parasites, or whatever the hells needs to be happening. They almost make it without Ben having a flashback to dead younglings or brainwashed troopers or the declaration of a Sith Empire. They almost make it without incident.
Then Ben sees Qui-Gon, and freezes, and does not move again.
Luke cannot get him to restart.
People are staring.
They haven’t even made it to Medical, Uncle Ben, come on.
Young, local Obi-Wan comes over and asks if there’s something he can do to help. Or maybe this “Ben” knows Qui-Gon? Master Jinn doesn’t recognize Ben, but maybe Luke knows more?
Luke does know more, but what Luke actually says is “he probably needs a mind healer.”
(Ben will not appreciate this.)
(Ben is unfortunately standing in the middle of the hallway and completely unresponsive, and is unable to argue with this assertion.)
(Ben is pretty much proving this assertion entirely correct, actually.)
Obi-Wan is helpful, if a little bitchy in the manner of most late-teens individuals, and offers to help get Uncle Ben down to the Halls of Healing. It involves Obi-Wan gently pushing on Ben’s shoulders, and Qui-Gon offering to carry Luke so he can be in Ben’s sights (because Ben is a Mystery, and Qui-Gon is quite fond of those, so he wants to stay involved). Ben kind of just... shuffles on down.
There are medical tests. They ask about how Luke lost his hand. He refuses to talk about it. They ask how Ben got all his scars. Luke says he doesn’t know. They ask if he knows why Ben looks like he’s been through a war. Luke says it’s because he probably was.
They check for foreign viruses. They find evidence of thus-far-unpatented vaccinations. They ask Luke if he knows what he’s vaccinated for.
“How would I know? I’m six.”
They agree that this is a good excuse.
(It is not. He’s lying. They do not know this.)
They do some more tests. They find a lot of questionable medical bullshit in Ben’s body. Most of this is from the clone wars, but they don’t know this. Someone realizes they haven’t gotten a ping back from the Shadow Network regarding “do we have permission to pull the medical file of a Jedi that isn’t in the normal database? We’re assuming you know who he is, since we don’t.”
The Shadow Network does not know who Ben is.
The healers, of course, go “huh, that’s weird, but maybe the name he gave his nephew was fake. We can’t exactly ask ‘Ben’ for more details right now. We already had to sedate him. Let’s check the DNA!”
The DNA pulls up as Obi-Wan Kenobi.
The padawan who brought this guy in two hours ago.
“Huh, that’s weird. Let’s call in Kenobi and ask if he knows what’s going on.”
Obi-Wan absolutely does not know what’s going on.
They ask Luke.
“Oh, I don’t know,” he says, lying through his teeth and not even pretending otherwise.
“You’re not a very good liar,” teenage Obi-Wan tells him.
“I’m not trying to be,” Luke says. “Can you get Master Yoda? I feel like we’re going to need him.”
They normally wouldn’t get Yoda on the request of a six-year-old, but they also normally don’t have a catatonic thirty-something Jedi who looks like he’s been through a war popping up in the medical database as the pimply teenage padawan that broke his pinky trying to do a Badass Ataru Flip last week.
Or... whatever Luke i... is... oh dear.
“Young one,” Qui-Gon asks, while people whisper-shout behind him, not realizing he’s cutting the Correlian Knot and just asking the kid himself. “Do you know why your midichlorian count is so high? It’s almost unheard of.”
“Uncle Ben said my dad was the Chosen One,” Luke says, because he is capable of being a little shit and is actually really eager to let Ben deal with some of the fallout. He feels for the man, really, but he’s also tired of being the one to field every single question.
Also, the expressions that pass on Qui-Gon’s face are hilarious.
(Luke may or may not be more affected by his six-year-old brain than he would like to admit.)
“Thank you,” Qui-Gon says, sounding more than a little strangled about it.
It takes another three hours for Ben to wake up.
He listens to the questions. He hears what they say his ‘nephew’ said. He looks at Luke.
“Is this revenge for not telling you about Leia?”
“It’s not revenge,” Luke does not lie. “I just don’t know how to explain it.”
“It’s pretty easy to explain.”
“It’s not my secret.”
“This is revenge for the Leia thing.”
“No,” Luke says. “Revenge for the Leia thing was when I ate a live frog in front of you.”
This is the point at which someone interrupts and points out that they appear to be stalling.
“Oh, he is,” Luke tells them. He gestures at Ben. “I can’t tell you more, because it’s more his story than mine.”
“I’m afraid, Master, that I am very likely to have an emotional breakdown if I allow myself to consider the reality of this situation for longer than the fraction of a second I already have,” Ben reports, full of false cheer. “Suffice to say, I am far from stable and have only held out this far for Luke’s sake.”
“Can you explain why you have my DNA?” Obi-Wan asks, as the person who’s most concerningly involved in this situation.
“You can,” Ben says, smiling like there is absolutely nothing wrong in the slightest, ever. “I’m you, from the future. I actually died and spent a few years dead before coming back. I’m not sure why I’m younger than I was when I died, but I appreciate being able to put on my shoes without my knees attempting to mutiny.”
“He needs a mind healer,” Luke reiterates, in case the strained grin hasn’t made it clear. “So do I, but not as much.”
“I have felt literally every person in this Temple save for Luke and Yoda die,” Ben reports, looking a shade more manic than a few seconds earlier. “It’s very overwhelming to feel you all being alive again. I may be approaching a mental breakdown, and I’ve been rather strictly advised against using alcohol to treat my traumas again.”
Luke kicks him in the thigh. It’s not a very hard kick, because he is very small, and he does actually like Ben. “I’m not letting you turn into an old drunk again.”
After several seconds of silence, a healer quietly suggests that everyone clear the room, and asks if someone could fetch Master Yoda as the youngling requested.
(THIS IS ALMOST THREE THOUSAND WORDS. I started it less than two hours ago. Why am I like this.)
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zoeykallus · 2 years
Text
Crosshair – My Beloved Enemy 19 – I've Never Been Good At Goodbyes
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Crosshair x Female!Reader (FF)
Warnings: ANGST/HURT/ Ouch/Heartache/Fluff, but the sad kind
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Author's Comment:
Reused this gif again, because right here and now it fits almost perfectly. PS: Ouch.
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What Happened Before:
Part 1 - Crash Landing
Part 2 - Hot And Cold
Part 3 - Hello Kitten
Part 4 - Look Who’s Back
Part 5 - Rebel Darling
Part 6 - Burning Anger
Part 7 - Love And Pain
Part 8 - A Difficult Reunion
Part 9 - The Bitter Taste Of Blood And Failure
Part 10 - Where The Dead Ships Dwell
Part 11 - A Lonely Firefly In Space
Part 12 - Broken Wings
Part 13 - A Helping Hand
Part 14 - The Justifier
Part 15 - The Bounty
Part 16 - Trapped
Part 17 -I Love You Too
Part 18 - When The Past Catches Up With Us
Part 19 - I've Never Been Good At Goodbyes
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Hunter and Lando looked at you like you had the answer to all the outstanding questions, but unfortunately, you didn't.
Kyllan Coltroy, was a mistake that now caught up with you. You had barely been old enough to marry when he asked you, and why you had said yes then, you didn't really know in retrospect.
Kyllan was handsome, the kind of guy every woman turned to, and many a man too. Tall, well built, full, pitch black hair, eyes as blue as sapphires, a striking, flawless face as if chiseled from marble. Yes, in retrospect, you had been dazzled by his would-be charm and looks. The moment you realized he was a selfish airhead, unfortunately, came just after the wedding ceremony when you saw and heard him talking to one of his subordinates, boastful, condescending and not particularly eloquent, to put it kindly.
Kyllan could have been the perfect man with a little heart and mind, but he was far from it. You had known how influential he and his family were, you knew the only way to get away from him was to simply disappear and that is exactly what you had done at the time.
"I don't know what we can do. I hate to say it, but the bounty hunter is right, if he's on his way here too, we're screwed. He'll bring a lot of his men with him. Kyllan isn't the brightest, but he's not taking any chances," you said dejectedly.
Hunter looked at you sympathetically. You could see that he was torn with his thoughts, wanting to protect his brothers, but also not wanting to let you down. You couldn't let him wear himself out because of you, that more damage was done because of you.
"Where is Rex anyway?" you asked nervously, hoping for the Captain's strong shoulder.
"He had to leave on a mission, the resistance on Naboo asked for his help" Hunter explained "If he had known what was going to happen here, he would have stayed".
You sighed. There was no other choice.
"The Firefly is practically intact. I should leave Bespin, alone."
"That's crazy," Lando said, "You're a much easier target alone."
Hunter gritted his teeth, you knew he was feverishly searching his mind for another solution.
"I have to go, it's the only way to protect all of you and prevent Bespin and its people from suffering more damage and loss. I am very sorry that it has come to this, I wish I could make it up to you, but I know I cannot. What I can do is to protect you from further danger from him," you said seriously and resolutely.
Of course you had a certain fear, but you knew it was the right thing to do, basically the two men knew that too.
Lost in thought, your fingers reached for the Crosshair pendant on your necklace, leaving him behind hurt the most by far. At the moment he was mad at you too, or disappointed, and you didn't really have time for explanations, Kyllan might already be on his way, you had to leave immediately. That didn't make things easier, but you had no choice.
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As you entered the hangar, you saw Tech, Echo, Crosshair and Wrecker working on various things on the Marauder. You didn't really have time to say goodbye, so you tried to slip past them quietly. It was awkward and you didn't like it, but it was better if you left right away. You didn't have time to get into discussions, because you were sure that if they knew what you were up to, they wouldn't want to let you go.
Echo, however, put a spoke in your wheel.
"Ad'ika! Where are you going?"
The question was innocent but it made you wince.
Crosshair looked up from his work and moved toward you just as you opened the Firefly's ramp.
"Can't tell you right now. Hunter will explain everything later," you said evasively.
Crosshair quickened his steps, keeping a critical eye on you as if he suspected you were up to something stupid. When he reached you, he firmly grabbed your arm to keep you from entering the Firefly.
"Where do you think you're going now? We have some things to discuss, you can't just run away from it!" he growled, half indignant, half miffed.
You sighed and looked up at him sadly. You almost reminded him that he ran first, but now was not the time and you didn't really blame him for doing so either.
When he saw the expression on your face, he softened.
"What's wrong?" he asked much more gently.
You gently but firmly pulled yourself out of his grip, kissed him softly on the cheek and said, "I'm sorry I let you down. This man means nothing to me, he is my past that I ran away from, I never expected him to still be looking for me after so long. I love you more than anything, I always will, don't worry about that."
Uncertainly he frowned.
"I was surprised, I admit that.... I'm not really angry. I was just rattled. But what worries me much more right now is that you sound like you're saying goodbye" he spoke seriously.
"Indeed," Echo commented from the background, critically.
"For the time being, I do have to go. I just wanted you to know that before I leave."
"But you'll be back?" asked Wrecker lurkingly as if he suspected what Tech already knew.
Your eyes wandered over Tech who had already understood the situation, he hardly dared to look at you, his gaze was sadly lowered and you saw that he had to pull himself together.
"Sure. I just have to do something so we can get rid of the guy who put the bounty on me. But I have to do that alone, I'll be back afterwards," a lie had never been so damn hard for you, even if you generally didn't like lying, this was the hardest one of your life.
Crosshair looked at you like he had trouble believing you, but didn't want to distrust you either.
"Do you know when you'll be back?" he asked cautiously.
You shook your head, "I don't know, but I have to go now."
You pressed a slightly longer kiss to Crosshair's lips before turning away, running up the ramp and closing it behind you without looking back. You knew it would only hurt if you looked back. That one kiss had probably been your last and you would have loved to drag it out and enjoy it even longer, but there was no time, even for that.
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Crosshair looked critically at the closed ramp; when the machine started noisily, he took a step back. He glanced at his brothers and caught sight of Tech.
Gritting his teeth, he said, "Something's wrong here, you know something! What's wrong?!"
Tech looked sadly at his brother, his eyes almost tearing up behind his yellow tinted goggles.
"Isn't it obvious?"
Wrecker asked softly, "She's not coming back, is she?"
Echo frowned and said, "But why not? Why would she lie to us?"
"To protect us," Crosshair spoke somberly "I can't...I can't let that happen, she's in danger on her own!"
His gaze twitched to the hangar doors where Lando and Hunter were just showing up. As the heavy metal gates opened, his heart began to race.
"No! Close the hangar doors!" he shouted to Hunter and Lando and ran toward the men, Tech, Echo and Wrecker following.
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"This is going to be messy," Hunter muttered quietly, earning a worried sideways glance from Lando.
"He'll do anything to keep her from leaving without him?" guessed Lando.
"Exactly," Hunter confirmed, "And we have to stop him."
Crosshair approached and Hunter was already standing in front of the console that controlled the hangar doors. Hunter didn't want you on your own any more than anyone else, but he understood and accepted your decision, and for now, it was the right decision to protect lives, including those of his brothers.
"Get out of the way!" grumbled Crosshair, reaching out to push his brother aside.
Hunter, however, braced himself against the sniper's grip and soon after, Lando also helped hold Crosshair down.
When Crosshair realized he was definitely going to be held back, he got rougher, trying to kick and punch to get to the console, but Hunter was prepared for it and out-maneuvered him until he had him in a headlock.
Crosshair threw himself around, causing Hunter to land under him and let go for a moment.
"You sons of bitches! Get your hands off me! You can't seriously be okay with her going off on her own!" he rumbled as Lando and Tech held him until Hunter was back on his feet, and stood in front of the console again.
To his left and right, Lando and Tech each held one of his arms. Crosshair looked over his shoulder and saw the Firefly slowly floating toward the open hangar doors.
"No!" he exclaimed, bracing himself against Lando and Tech, nearly breaking free as well, if Hunter hadn't intervened.
"Wrecker, would be nice if you helped out!" growled Tech.
Wrecker defiantly crossed his arms in front of his chest and murmured, "No. I don't want her to go. I won't stop her from doing what she wants, but I sure as hell won't stop my brother from trying to protect the woman he loves."
Echo said: „Don't look at me. I pretty much think the same“
A little surprised the men looked at each other, but there was no time for discussion anyway.
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You flew the Firefly carefully and slowly towards the hangar doors to avoid colliding with other ships or people still in the hangar. You looked through the cockpit window and saw the tussle at the hangar console and felt a merciless fist close around your heart.
The closer you got to the gates, the better you could see the situation and the pain in your chest got worse and the burning behind your eyes more intense. Crosshair wouldn't let you go and the others were trying to keep him from closing the hangar doors.
It hurt so terribly to see him so desperate. You couldn't hear him, but you could see that he was screaming something at the top of his lungs. You had never seen him act so agitated and intense. Tears were streaming down your cheeks, silently, while you turned your eyes away with a heavy heart and steered the Firefly through the open gates into the sky.
Over the comm you heard a crackle, then Crosshair's breathless, hoarse voice: "Kitten? Y/N, can you hear me?"
Contact would only last until you were in hyperspace.
In a trembling voice you answered him softly, "I'm so sorry. I've never been good at goodbyes. You know I love you, don't you?"
His voice sounded pressed as he said, "If that's really true, then come back!"
You held the micro closed to hide the sob that escaped you. By the time you had collected yourself, the Firefly was already breaking through the cloud cover and the darkness of space loomed before you.
"I can't, Crosshair, please forgive me."
"Cyare..." he spoke softly "I love you and no matter what you do now or where you go now, I promise you I will find you"
Suppressing another sob, you activated the hyperspace jump and opened another open comm channel.
"Kyllan. This is Y/N, I understand you are looking for me and seem to stop at nothing to get me. I am traveling in the old Firefly I stole from you back when I took off. It has a new ID, but it's the same ship. I'm on my way to Onderon, you'll find me in the Highlands. Come and get me."
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Crosshair slowly sank to the floor and sat down. His pulse was racing so fast he was dizzy, he felt like he was losing his footing.
Tech looked up and said, "Y/N just sent a message to Kyllan Coltroy on an open Comm Chanel."
Crosshair looked up startled, he was pale and looked slain.
"Let's hear it," Hunter grumbled.
"Kyllan. It's Y/N, I hear you're looking for me and seem to stop at nothing to get hold of me. I'm traveling in the old Firefly I stole from you back when I took off. It has a new ID, but it's the same ship. I'm on my way to Onderon, you'll find me in the Highlands. Come and get me."
Wrecker put his hands on his hips and said, "Well I don't know what you're up to, but Crosshair and I are going to Onderon. I'm sure Lando will lend us a ship, am I right?"
Lando grinned with a sigh and nodded.
"I have a very good ship sitting here on site right now. It actually belongs to a friend, but he doesn't need it right now. If you bring it back to me in one piece, you can have it. It's fast and reliable."
Everyone looked at Hunter.
He threw his arms in the air and said, "It's not like we weren't looking for her sooner or later anyway. We'll go together, anyone who wants to come along"
"We are all coming," Echo said „And all this drama was for nothing, poor brother“, and helped Crosshair stand up.
Tech nodded with a sigh but he smiled, he was relieved to know the guys would go come after you.
"We should hurry", Crosshair said sternly.
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blackkatmagic · 3 years
Note
Lots of Lando says you have lots of Lando ideas right? 8DDDD Share with the class, pretty please? (I promise I won't add more 👉👈)
Sol i trust you about as far as i can throw you but more Lando could never be a threat, so.
1. Fox/Lando where Fox arrests a smuggler and maybe flirts back a little more than he should, which is normally fine except this smugger escapes. On an entirely unrelated note, someone also starts leaving small, thoughtful gifts in Fox's bunk, and he has no idea who or how.
2. Echo/Lando/Fives - Lando manages to time travel because Luke miscalculated something badly, but he's not about to argue. Getting himself elected as the senator of the Anoat sector is a good way to put himself right where he needs to be to reveal Palpatine's identity as a Sith, but in doing so he gets enough death threats that security is a good idea. Enter a pair of ARC troopers who are exactly the type of chaos Lando appreciates the most.
3. Jaster/Lando - Lando picks up a fare who's a little too handsome and a little too clever, and is just trying to get home to Mandalore. Lando maybe also gets in a little over his head.
4. Jaster/Lando - Jaster picks up a one night stand, and expects a fun night to be the end of it. But on his way out, Lando glances through a few of Jaster's papers, jots down a few suggestions, and then heads off, not knowing he's accidentally solved every administrative issue that's been giving Jaster a headache for years. Clearly the only option is for Jaster to track him down and marry him immediately.
5. Jango/Lando - Lando saves what he thinks is a clone deserter from being taken by Ventress, and offers to help get him outside of Republic space. Jango, back from the dead and seeing firsthand all the havoc from his choices, instead ropes Lando into helping him find Dooku and end the war.
6. Kix/Lando - Lando manages to interrupt Kix's abduction, releases him from the carbonite, and then realizes that he just put the biggest target in the galaxy on them both in the process. Getting Kix to the Jedi is the only solution, but there's a whole galaxy between them and Coruscant and it's impossible to know who to trust.
7. Rex/Lando - Lando, right after winning Bespin, picks up a wandering clone who's neck-deep in trouble and totting two small children. Rex just wants to find a safe place to hide his former general's children before Vader can find them, and Lando looks a hell of a lot like safety.
8. Echo/Lando - Echo gets free of the Techno Union just in time to hear that Fives is a fugitive, and immediately decides that he has to help. Hiring the first charming smuggler he comes across probably isn't the best idea, but Lando is down to help a handsome man cause some trouble.
9. Fox/Lando - Fox wakes up with blood on his hands, a dead senator, and a smuggler who's about to face execution for the crime that Fox clearly remembers committing. Desperate to figure out what's happening, Fox gives Lando the best possible alibi he can offer - he claims they're married, and Lando was with him the whole night.
10. Wolffe/Lando - The 104th get leave on a known party world, and all Wolffe wants to do is find a drink, a dark corner, and a willing body, preferably in that order. What he gets instead is a pretty smuggler, a stolen Sith artefact that the Chancellor has a very keen interest in recovering, and a headache. Clearly the universe has it out for him.
11. Fox/Lando/Wolffe - After Vader breaks his neck, Fox somehow wakes up on a slaver's ship, deep in the Outer Rim. He expects to die quickly, but instead, he's traded off as the wager in a hand of cards, and promptly freed by the man who wins him. Lando's enigmatic and unpredictable and kind even when Fox doesn't want him to be, and he's tracking rumors of another clone captured and sold, a former marshal commander and war hero in need of rescue, who's holding a secret that could lead right to the surviving Jedi.
12. Cody/Lando, Fox/Bail - Bail and Lando back in time, saving the galaxy through the power of high fashion and competency! Aka when Lando dies in the final battle against the Empire, he doesn't expect to wake up on Coruscant, right next to a very bewildered senator. But being back 2 years before the rise of the Empire doesn't leave them a lot of time to fix things, so the only option is to team up. The galaxy will never be the same.
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amiedala · 3 years
Text
Something More (the mandalorian x reader)
Something More (the mandalorian x reader)
CHAPTER 2: Not Leaving You Here
Rated: Explicit (not this chapter, but future chapters will be)
Warnings: descriptions of violence, violence, there’s an interaction between the reader and a threatening man but it’s not that in depth and it ends quickly (but if that will trigger you PLEASE skip over it!! <3), descriptions that are sexual in nature
Summary: “You’re not fending for yourself on Corellia,” he says, and it’s abrupt. He turns back around, and you swallow a few mouthfuls of air because what are you supposed to say to that?
“I’m a big girl,” you chance, leaning forward, ever so slightly. “I can handle myself.”
“I’m not leaving you here,” he counters, and you fall silent. Okay, then. Your heart does a backflip in your chest. He’s not leaving you here. From the way he’s refused to let you leave the Razor Crest on the last few locations in sketchy places, you have a sneaking suspicion he’s gotten accustomed to your presence, and maybe even that he doesn’t want you to get hurt. It sings in your chest. Either that, or you’ve unknowingly been kidnapped for the better part of the month, but, if you were being honest with that deep down adrenaline rush that follows him around, you don’t even care.
It takes three weeks, a shady bounty on Bespin, and a mistake on your part of epic proportions, but you finally get the Mandalorian to talk to you more than in passing. He’s a man of few words, this much you figured when he first took you aboard, but it is intimidating how much silence he lives in. You aren’t used to the quiet. Even when you flew through the stars yourself your commlink was always on, or you’d fiddle around with the dials until you found a station from the closest planet that could croon to you as you flew. Back on Yavin, you shared quarters with other families and other rebels when your parents left on missions, and even in their death, you would curl up with friendly faces or droids whenever you went to sleep. You liked noise. Noise was human. Noise made you feel real.
 If the Mandalorian didn’t have a death wish for every single droid he came across, you might have made the joke that he was one himself. He’s robotic, systemic in his silence. He only ever seems to speak when he tells you to move out of the way or how long he’ll be gone when he goes to collect his bounties, leaving you in charge of the kid until he returns.
 You have literally zero idea why you’re still here. Still, though, there’s something pulsing in you whenever you talk to him, think about him. There’s something thrumming at the same frequency that you’re tuned into simmering under all that beskar, you can feel it. You want to ask him if he feels it too, that low humming in his chest when you’re alone together, if you could ever figure out how to broach the subject. The first planet you touched down on after leaving Nevarro’s molten surface was Corellia. You had asked, quite begrudgingly, if this is where you got off, where he left you.
 The question seemed to evaporate in midair. You were both in the cockpit, him in the pilot’s seat, you a few feet behind him. The baby was sleeping in his crib, the floating egg hovering somewhere down the ladder. It was so quiet there. You weren’t even sure, for what felt like full minutes, if he had heard you, and you were about to ask him again when he slowly turned in his seat, the visor fixing on your face.
 His legs were splayed open. His lap was so big. You gulped, trying to slow down your heartbeat as he surveyed you, completely unyielding in his quiet.
 “No.”
 Your eyes narrow. “I can—I’ve been in worse places, before, it’s okay, I can work my way off Corellia. I know you have bounties to collect, and I know this was just supposed to be my ride off Nevarro—”
 “You’re not fending for yourself on Corellia,” he says, and it’s abrupt. He turns back around, and you swallow a few mouthfuls of air because what are you supposed to say to that?
 “I’m a big girl,” you chance, leaning forward, ever so slightly. “I can handle myself.”
 “I’m not leaving you here,” he counters, and you fall silent. Okay, then. Your heart does a backflip in your chest. He’s not leaving you here. From the way he’s refused to let you leave the Razor Crest on the last few locations in sketchy places, you have a sneaking suspicion he’s gotten accustomed to your presence, and maybe even that he doesn’t want you to get hurt. It sings in your chest. Either that, or you’ve unknowingly been kidnapped for the better part of the month, but, if you were being honest with that deep down adrenaline rush that follows him around, you don’t even care.
 You’ve seen most of the Outer Rim before, and you had gone to a handful of planets away from your initial home on Yavin, but this kind of exploration feels different. It’s wandering and collecting. You missed the feeling of being in the sky without having to trade it for shady deals to earn your keep, and sometimes the Mandalorian will let you drive. Only when he’s exhausted, or when you have a long way to go, but still. Sometimes. Most of all, though, you think he’s relieved that he trusts you enough with the baby and the ship when he’s gone. It’s a silent agreement. You didn’t realize being a glorified babysitter could ever be so fun. You love the little guy, the way he coos when he sees you, how his big eyes glow whenever the Mandalorian is around. Keeping inanimate objects—and frogs—out of his big mouth is a job in it of itself, sometimes, but you don’t mind.
 If nothing else, it’s a nice vacation, planet-hopping and watching the Mandalorian’s kid. You have no idea what he looks like under the armor—you heard stories of one that fell into a Sarlacc pit on Tatooine from your parents’ friends in the alliance, but that was it—but you know he’s supposed to scare you. Intimidate you, at the very least. He makes that easy, sometimes, to dwindle hours down just trying to guess what’s happening in his head under the helmet. One time, you nearly fried your hand on a rogue wire, and he pulled your wrist so hard out of the flame that you spun around 180 degrees, the wind knocked out of you.
 “You need to be more careful,” is all he says, but his grip lingered. Just for a second too long, but enough to make his reprimand deeper, more meaningful. And then you wonder, am I doing it again? Making something out of absolutely nothing? Still, it lives in your head, his tone, his voice, the way he grits out the words. It pops into your head when you’re alone at night, sometimes, when your mind is wandering to someplace filthy and you’ve let yourself count how many months it’s been since anyone but yourself has touched you.
 And then Bespin happens. It comes out of nowhere. You’ve come accustomed to the creatures that the Mandalorian brings aboard, the way that he tolerates their presence until they get too chatty, or try to spark up a fight, and then blasts them with a hiss of gas that captures their entire bodies in carbonite until he can return them to the Guild. You’ve gone back to Nevarro twice since you left it, where the Mandalorian collects more bounty pucks and informs you where you’re headed off to next. You still have no idea why you’re here, why he’s refused to let you walk out on him or the kid, other than maybe playing babysitter is a necessity for him. But that begs the question of what he did before you were on board; before he ever met you. He doesn’t like you asking questions. He doesn’t seem to like talking, just treats it as an annoying necessity, so you’ve long given up on filling the space with noise, as much as you miss it. When he leaves, though, you crank whatever music is playing on the local stations up to the max. You play old cantina love songs for the kid, grabbing the little green baby and swinging him around the ship’s interior, putting him on your jutted hip as you swirl around the cargo hold, murmuring the songs to him like your mother used to do with you. It hurts somewhere deep down inside, the ache that your parents’ death left, something you learned how to ignore long before you met the Mandalorian or the baby, but something about them both dredges it up in you.
 As unsure as your presence is here, though, there’s something even in this tin can ship that feels warm. You can feel it even in the silence, even when no one’s talking. It’s crept up on you, and you’ve stopped asking where your ride stops. The Mandalorian is in no hurry to kick you out it seems, and he’d tell you whenever your contract, whatever that meant, ended. So, you whirl around, hair falling loose around your face, too long and spiraling out from your braid. You’re so engaged in your opera to the baby that you don’t even notice the hiss of the doors as the plank disengages from the Crest. You have your hand in a faux microphone, belting out notes from a song that doesn’t even have words to get the baby to do his squeal and giggle, the noise equal parts air and glee, and you don’t notice that there’s someone entering the ship who is very much not the Mandalorian until it’s too late.
 You freeze. The figure in front of you is tall, much taller than you, with a grimace on his face and something rough and scarily alight in his eyes. He reminds you of the one that tried to pick you up on Nevarro, and that alone makes your tummy flip backwards. The gangplank starts to hiss and crawl back in towards the ship, and you pop the baby up closer to your chest, so your good hand is free.
 “This isn’t your ship.”
 The man grins, and you scowl back at him. You still don’t have a blaster, which makes you feel utterly useless, but you can fight. You learned how to hit and evade, both in piloting and in combat, and the baby’s egg is right behind you—if you tried, you could probably hold him off. Probably.
 “It could be,” he sneers, and you pull the baby’s head closer to your chest.
 “I don’t think so.”
 “What is a girl like you doing here, sunshine?” His voice is so deep. It vibrates as more words fall out, and that alone scares you.
 “Visiting a friend.” Another lie. One that probably won’t even deter him. It’s time to go into fight mode. You glance to your right, where the baby’s cradle is waiting, mouth open. Okay. You could swing him into it with one arm and move forward into a punch if you needed to. You place the baby in the cradle, giving him a look. He shuts it as soon as he’s in it, and you push it back into the corner. “You don’t want to meet him.”
 “Maybe I do.”
 Your eyes flick away from his, just a second, to survey what weapons he’s packing. It looks like a sword on his back, and maybe a knife strapped to his thigh. It’s a mistake: he takes your falter as an opportunity to move forward and advance towards you.
 “Don’t touch me,” you manage, as a large, meaty palm moves forward. A quiver breaks your voice down the middle. Okay, you’ve gauged the situation. The baby is safe in his egg. You can evade this guy’s grip long enough to force him into the corner, and you can hit the release of carbonite. You can do this.
 He’s big, though. You knock his palm out of your proximity, but he’s still coming. You try to duck him—stupidly, it was way too predictable, and his forearm slams into your stomach and knocks the wind out of you. Something desperate clenches inside you—the Mandalorian has only been gone for an hour, and he usually doesn’t return with the bounty until at least three. You have to defend yourself, and the baby, because no one’s coming to the rescue. On the ground, you groan, locking eyes with the armory on the other side of the ship. You could potentially slide through his legs and open the hatch—but then you both have weapons within reach, and you don’t trust yourself to get there in time.
 Your chest hurts. He’s looking down at you, now, leering, and you get up, shoving off the heels of your hands like you did on Nevarro. It’s been a long time since you’ve felt the weight of being a relatively small woman traveling alone, especially since you’ve sort of joined the crew of the Razor Crest, and you forgot how dangerous the galaxy can be when you’re not in the pilot’s seat and you’re without your gun.
 “Relax,” the man says, and you clench your jaw down. “You can come with me, sweetheart.” You know he wants to hurt you. You can sense it, in the way his eyes are set, in the way he’s leaning towards you. You don’t want to give him the chance, but you don’t know what else to do.
 “I’m fine, thanks,” you manage, trying to step forward and not get boxed into the corner, but he takes the full weight of his palm and slams into you again, and you fly into the nook near where the Mandalorian sleeps. He’s got you fucking pinned, now. He’s moving forward, and the same giant hand lunges out in front of his hulking exterior, and then his hand is clenched against your throat and you’re being picked up off the floor, your feet kicking at nothing.
 “Let go,” you manage, using your fist to try and knock at something on his giant body. “Let go,” you repeat, strained, “I’ll come with you—please, just let me go, please—”
 The giant hand around your neck suddenly goes limp, and you think for a second that your sore excuse for a bargain maybe worked, until you feel blood dripping down your shirt and the man’s eyes go lifeless. Your ears stop ringing as your legs touch the floor, and your knees buckle as you gasp for air. There’s a body on the ground, blue blood pooling out all over the floor of the Crest, and the Mandalorian is standing at the entrance.
 “Are you okay?” His voice is quick, deep, low. You don’t even register he’s talking to you, at first. “Hey. Hey.” You realize, stupidly, that his hands are on you, hovering around your midriff. His gloved fingers are wrapped nearly entirely around the circumference of your waist, but he’s so hesitant with his touching. “Where are you hurt?”
 You stare down at the man, clearly dead, leeching blood all over the floor. There’s a knife the size of your leg piercing him straight through—his knife, you realize, the sword on his back that the Mandalorian stabbed him clean through with. “He’s dead.”
 “I don’t care about him.” The Mandalorian’s voice is terse, still low and desperate. It takes a minute, but you finally look up at him, register that his hands are supporting you, and slump into them. “Hey. Did you get cut at all? Where did he—what happened?”
 “Is that the bounty?”
 “What—no, no, the bounty wasn’t here. I was coming back when I saw this one in front of the ship. Where did he hurt you?”
 “I’m fine,” you manage, and the Mandalorian’s left hand moves from your back up to cradle your face. No, he’s not cradling your face, you realize, he’s cupping it, puckering your lips out with his grip. He’s looking at you, seeing if your eyes are unfocused, if you lost your consciousness. “He only knocked me around a bit. I’m fine.”
 “That was close.”
 You nod. It was. “It was,” you echo, and then your stomach clenches and you let out a low, deep groan. “I made a miscalculation—an overestimation in my own evasion skills, really, but I miscalculated how fast his arms were in comparison to my fight or flight reflexes. I’m fine—”
 “Don’t lie to me. Where did he hurt you?”
 This time, you gesture to your midriff, wincing as the Mandalorian moves his hand over your abdomen. “Ow,” you say pointedly, and he sighs, pulling you gently to the floor.
 “Stay here,” he commands, and you have nowhere else to go, so you obey, still gasping for air. He drags the dead body back down the gangplank, giving the guy a kick or two before he pulls the door back up. He shakes his hand free of the slick of blue blood, walks over to the baby’s cradle, and inspects him for any damage before he makes his way back over to you. “Stay still.”
 “Do you see me moving?” you ask, and it’s meant to be a joke, but he sighs, and suddenly, his hands are moving back towards your belly. Even through the gloves, you can feel how strong his hands are, how big they are in comparison to your torso. You gulp in air, your injured stomach doing backflips that aren’t helping the ache, but he’s right there, touching you, and it’s such a stark contrast to the way he’s acted around you that it’s intoxicating. Your heart catches in your chest.
 “Lift this,” he says, but hesitates long enough for you to pull your shirt up yourself, and the intention of the gesture after nearly getting choked out by the thug a few minutes prior makes your eyes spark with tears. “You don’t look like you’re bleeding internally. You…Your abdomen isn’t rigid enough for that.” He pauses, and his visor is trained on your bellybutton. Your own gaze frets back and forth between his helmet and his hands, and you realize what he’s looking at. There’s a jagged scar down the left side of your belly, leftovers from a knife fight back when you first started out on your own and accidentally got on a cantina bartender’s bad side.
 “It’s old,” you whisper. It’s obviously old, it’s scar tissue only a few shades darker than your skin, but he’s staring at it with such intensity that you feel compelled to explain it away.
 “Who did that?”
 You look up at him, again, his hand still resting on your belly, a featherweight compared to its size. It’s dizzying you. This is the most he’s ever consecutively spoke to you in the three weeks you’ve been aboard, and his voice is so vibrant, a baritone that lingers in the air long after it’s left it, even through the modulator.
 “He’s long gone,” you manage, and it’s not a lie. “It was years ago, really—”
 “Where else did you get hurt?” He interrupts, and it takes you a second to realize he’s referring to the guy he just killed, not the one from the cantina five years ago.
 “Just,” you say, gesturing a tired hand to your neck, “my throat.”
 Again, the Mandalorian falls into silence. His hand is still on your stomach, and the low thrum in your belly that pulses whenever he’s around is deafening. It feels like your ears are still ringing from being choked up against the wall, and you think if it were the Mandalorian’s hands doing the choking, maybe you wouldn’t have resisted so much.
 Maker, where the hell did that come from?
 You gulp as his free hand roams to the hollow of your throat, finger glancing off the necklace entangled in itself below your collarbone. You shiver, just once, as his gloved index finger traces the marks the intruder left behind. You don’t see them until in the mirror later than night, and they’ve faded almost entirely. You don’t know for sure what he sees, because even though he’s reflective on nearly every surface, light inside the Razor Crest is low, and you’re too distracted by both of his hands roaming two different parts of your body.
 “You’re breathing,” he says, finally, and a giggle escapes from your throat at the obviousness of his statement. “Now you’re laughing. I don’t think there’s any lasting damage.”
 “Thank you,” you say, fighting another one bubbling up in your throat, and you freeze again as he gently lifts your shirt back down over the injury, letting his finger on your throat trail off as he lets you go. Something shifts. Your heart is still galloping in your chest. “Thank you,” you say again, suddenly emotional. “Thank you for coming back…When you did.”
 He just pauses. You don’t know what he’s doing under that helmet, but you can imagine he’s looking at you. Straight at you. His silence is different this time, more vibrational. “Tomorrow, we’ll pick you a weapon out of the armory.”
 You do a double take. “I get one of your weapons?”
 “It’s not as safe on the ship as I thought it was,” he says darkly, and he extends a hand to you as you slowly, achingly, peel yourself off the floor. You pause sitting up as you digest what he’s saying. “You need to be able to protect yourself.”
 You look at him, and back at the baby, who started cooing at his side, and the Mandalorian picks his kid up out of the cradle without moving his gaze off you. “I’m…Am I staying on the ship?”
 He cocks his head. “You’ve been watching the kid on here, right?”
 You nod, then shake your head. “Of course,” you say, trying to explain the shift in your movement, “but I mean…am I staying here? Indefinitely?” You pause, then decide it’s been a hell of a day and you’re brazen enough to ask the next part of your question, “With you?” It flutters inside you, the boldness of the question, especially against the knowledge that you’re testing your theory—that he feels as right with you as you do with him, that when he walked into you, something cosmic happened.
 The Mandalorian looks down at you, almost entirely still. Before you can let your nerves get the best of you, he sighs, loose air exiting the modulator, and something sparks low in your tummy, deeper than your injury, and then he’s settled on the floor next to you again. “Yes.”
 You smile, wince at the gesture as your throat constricts, and then resume the position, ache be damned. “Okay.”
 “Can you make it up the ladder?”
 You slowly shake your head. “I think I’m sleeping on the floor tonight.”
 “You always sleep on the floor.”
“Not true,” you answer, shaking a finger at him. “Sometimes, I fall asleep in the chair. But yeah, I usually nest on the floor.”
“Nest.” The word is flat, even, but there’s something about the way he says it makes you want to giggle again.
“I need to be swaddled in things, usually, to fall asleep. And noise. Noise helps.”
He just stares at you. “Are you a Jawa?”
You furrow your eyebrows, completely lost. It takes full seconds before you realize he was making a joke. You laugh, again, and it hurts to bring a hand to cover your mouth, but you do it anyways. “I just like a little hodgepodge to sleep in. I don’t strip things for parts,” you counter.
“Obviously,” he says, his voice rich and deep. Something about the way he says it burns low inside you. This is the most the Mandalorian has ever spoken to you. This might be the most the Mandalorian has ever spoken, if how little he exchanged any language was indicative of how he’s spent most of his life. “Stay here.”
You smile again, because where else would you go, and he climbs the ladder. With how quickly he cuts his conversations short, you think he just decided he’s done talking for the day, and he’s going upstairs to set the ship on the next course, so you settle into the corner of the ship where you still are, just feet away from the alcove where he sleeps. You wonder what it looks like in there, if there’s only enough space for his hulking figure, or if you could shimmy your way into there next to him, your body pressed up against his in the tiny space—Stars, you’re letting your mind wander.
“No chance,” you whisper to yourself, despite the pull deep in your chest, that humming, that warmth that he gives you, despite how distanced he’s been from you. “Get it together.”
A moment later, shiny feet descend the ladder, and your water flask is pressed into your hand, and the Mandalorian has something in his hands. It’s a blanket, one you stole from the tiny medbay when you first climbed aboard. It’s unmade and he also has what looks like a small pillow in his other hand. He drops them, gently, at your crossed legs. “For your…nest.”
You smile, again, and if you tried hard, really hard, you could imagine that he was smiling under all that metal, too.
“Thank you.”
He nods, still standing awkwardly. “You should take the bed.”
You look to the closed alcove where his cot is, to him, and back again. “No,” you say, “no, that’s yours, and hauling myself off the floor right now is simply not an option. Thank you, though.”
He just stands there.
“Really,” you emphasize, even though the pull in your stomach wants very badly to climb in his bed and fossilize yourself in there, because he’s still standing there, talking to you, and you would trade almost anything in the galaxy for as many minutes as possible of this.
He sinks back onto the floor with you. The baby is now sound asleep in his cradle. You don’t know what to say next, but the Mandalorian doesn’t look like he’s going anywhere. Your belly still aches, and your throat feels raw, but you can’t keep the smile off your face. It’s warm in the crest, warm enough that you don’t need to swaddle yourself in the blanket, and you look down at your chest, the white tank top you bought months beforehand stained blue and black with blood and grease. You probably shouldn’t have blown your scarce credits that was going to get stained so easily, but you didn’t know you’d be living with a bounty hunter and his baby when you first got it.
“Where are we going next?” you ask, and you’re not sure how much time has elapsed. The Mandalorian doesn’t speak, and you think maybe he’s faded off into sleep, and you reach up, wincing, to pile your loose hair on the top of your head.
“You missed a piece.”
“What?”
He hasn’t even moved. “Hair.”
You fumble with your fingers until you find the rogue lock of hair, shorter from where you hacked bangs into it nearly a year ago when you had first lost your other ship. It’s hanging in your face, and you don’t reach to move it, letting it tangle with your eyelashes. You can feel his eyes on you, it’s burning a sudden and violent hole through you. Again, that spark low in your pelvis sings, and your breath hitches in your throat.
The Mandalorian barely moves, just extending his arm in the dark to tuck it behind your ear. You sigh as his hand brushes against your cheek, the gloves smelling like dirt and leather and something uniquely him. You feel his touch everywhere. And then his fingers are gone as quickly as they arrived, and you have to take the lingering of the touch he gave you as proof that it happened at all.
“You should get some sleep,” he says, and his voice through the modulator spirals deep into you. You want to know what it sounds like under the helmet. You want to know what a lot is like under the helmet. You want to argue with him, keep him talking, but sleep is calling your name louder than he’s speaking, and you’re sliding down the wall, trying to curl up in the most comfortable position.
The last thing you remember before drifting off is the Mandalorian moving quietly to cover you in the blanket he brought down, settling back into the dark quiet of his ship, pulsing not even a foot away from where you slept.
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tatooineknights · 3 years
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Prompt: Vader and Luke already spoke on Endor's moon before Luke was transferred to the Death Star. Now Vader retrieves him from his cell to take him to the Emperor. Do they talk again?
The flight to the Death Star was longer than anticipated — Vader was in the cockpit of his vessel, commanding his troops with short responses, his mind elsewhere and in need of distraction. The light tenor of his son’s words still swam about in his head, calling to him, piercing parts of his soul the Sith Lord didn’t know still existed. “I know there is good in you,” “Come with me,” and the hardest one of all was one simple word: “father.”
Luke hoped (and deep down inside himself, knew) that Vader was susceptible to his pleas. Just like Luke had always wanted a father, he knew that Vader had always wanted a son. Both of them were bound to the cries of the other regardless of how much they tried to deny them; this proved a dangerous game for Luke, who was steadfast in his determination to save his father’s soul, as he slowly wondered just how much he would be willing to let go in the attempt.
Father, Luke whispered through the Force, hoping to penetrate that great shell of Vader and find the spirit of Anakin Skywalker. He existed deep down — Luke knew it. If he didn’t care for him, if he didn’t love him as a father should, then he would have executed him on Bespin when he refused to join him a full year prior. There was still good in him. Luke had to believe in that with all his heart for his plan to work; otherwise, he was walking into certain death. Their meeting with the Emperor will either end with both of them coming out alive or both dead. It must.
The ship began to slow as it entered the hanger of the Death Star. Luke didn’t have any windows to see the inside of the great station but he could feel all speed go to a complete stop. They had arrived to hell itself and it was up to him to pull them both out of it. Stormtroopers came by and opened his cell, grabbing him by his shoulder and shoving him into Vader. The Sith Lord towered over his son, looking down at him with a forlorn silence.
“Father,” Luke nodded.
More silence.
“Son,” Vader replied, grabbing Luke by the shoulder and walking out with him in front. Stormtroopers and officers all around watched curiously as the two men marched in total silence to the elevator.
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Text
Han’s had exactly one sip of caf when Ben comes shuffling into the cockpit. 
“Dad,” Ben huffs, collapsing into Chewie’s modified copilot’s seat, the blanket from his bed wrapped around his body. He’s got it pulled up over his head like some kind of dramatic cloak. “It’s been a week. Am I gonna be grounded forever?” 
Han glances at the console. Time tends to get sticky in hyperspace, but he notes that it’s not even seven in the morning. Neither he nor Ben are early risers, but it’s the third day of their journey – the fifth of Ben’s quarterly break from school – without a stop and they’re both starting to get a little antsy. There’s only so much to do on the Falcon. Watching stars fly by in semi-awkward silences makes both their fingers itch with misuse. 
“Sorry, bud,” he fiddles with the nav system. It’s already working perfectly, but he makes a show of it anyway, eyes flickering between his son and the viewport. He shakes his leg and notices Ben is doing the exact same thing. He can see the quick rise and fall of his knee beneath the cloak-blanket. “You heard your mom. You can’t have your holopad back for two more weeks.” 
Ben’s face screws up into a scowl as he picks at a loose thread on his blanket. Han knows that look. He’s about to say something mean. 
“The only reason she made me come with you is because she knows it’s a punishment.” 
And there it is. Han winces a little. 
“Ouch,” he leans back in his seat and takes another sip of caf, and then sets the cup down on the dash.
There’s a long moment of silence before he hears Ben shift. 
“I didn’t mean it like that,” he whispers. 
“Yes, you did.”
Ben sighs and rubs at the back of his neck. “Sorry.” His hair falls in his face. “I didn’t sleep well.”
Han’s brow furrows. “Again?”
Ben shrugs. He’s had weird dreams for as long as Han can remember. Hell, he’d wanted to sleep in their bed long after most kids would have been embarrassed to ask. There were some nights, back before they’d asked Luke for help, that he or Leia would find him curled up on the floor outside of their door. 
“Wanna walk about it?” 
The kid shakes his head. He glances down at the mug and picks it up, taking a long slug of caf, and then settles further into his seat, his hands tight around the lukewarm mug. 
Huh. Han didn’t even know he drank caf. Actually, there’s a lot of Han doesn’t know about him. He’s away for most of the year – holed up with Luke trying to connect to and control the erratic power he’d been born with – and even if he does visit home often, he’s different every time. At thirteen, he’s all odd angles: legs that are too long, elbows that are too knobby, ears and a nose that still seem too big for his face. He’s got Leia’s dark hair, but it’s an odd length. He’s been growing it out. 
Han has no idea what he looked like at Ben’s age. Scrappy and underfed, probably, but he recognizes his own chin and nose in Ben’s face. There’s a healthy dose of stubborn pride, too. He can see it in the way he holds his back straight or angles his face when he’s feeling haughty. It’s very... Well, it’s very Organa. The similarities makes fondness twinge in his chest.
Ben presses a button on the dash, studying the nav system. He groans. “Bespin? Again? I’m sick of Bespin.” 
“You might be the only kid this side of the galaxy that’s sick of luxury resorts,” Han says. He studies him for another long moment, takes note of the bluish-purple circles beneath his eyes, the way his bottom lip is scabbed over from chewing on it. Frag, how long has it been since this kid’s had some real fun that didn’t involve ancient rituals and laser swords? “Besides,” he continues. “I thought we’d check out the swoop racing circuits this time.”
That perks Ben up. “Really?”
“Really. The age to enter the races is thirteen, you know. Bet you could leave ‘em all in the dust.” 
“Wait,” Ben swivels in the copilot’s seat to face him, caf sloshing in the mug. “You’re going to let me race?”
“Sure. So long as you don’t tell your mother.” 
Excitement flickers in Ben’s eyes. “She won’t care. And even if she does, she’s never mad at you for very long.”
Han isn’t so sure about that, but he winks at Ben, taking back the caf. “That’s the Solo charm. Works on just about anyone. Even princesses.”
“Yeah, that’s what she says,” Ben’s lips twitch like he’s fighting off a smile. “Only she uses a very different tone when she says it.” 
Han chokes on a laugh in the middle of a sip of caf, the now cold drink caught in his throat. Ben’s face splits into a grin that’s all crooked teeth and dimples, clearly pleased with himself. 
“Come on,” Ben says, swinging back around. He’s almost bounding in his seat. “I wanna see Uncle Lando before we race. I’ll comm ahead to make sure he’s there.” 
Han shakes his head, tossing back the last sip of caf. Maybe he should rethink their plans considering Leia will have choice words about the technically illegal racing (and definitely illegal gambling) of the lower city swoop racing circuits on Cloud City. Maybe there should be limits, he thinks, to the things he’s willing to do for Ben, but he can’t think of any as he watches Ben excitedly type out a message. He’s seen the far reaches of the universe. He’s walked the hidden depths. He would do it all again for one more smile from his son.
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