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questforgalas · 8 months

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Thank you for coming back

Notes: So once again, @zaana's incredible art lived rent free in my head until I put it down on paper. So here's a delightful AU where Crosshair doesn't get sent to Tantiss because guess who gets to him first? Chose to do a rescue from Barton IV because Cross is in his imperial armor in the art, and I thought "Hey, let's maybe give him a break and not make him go through torture before he's rescued?" Neat idea, right? Let's tell Jen and Brad

WC: 3K (lol this was going to be a drabble)

Characters: The Bad Batch (all of them!)

Tags: Wrecker POV (he deserves all the Crosshair reunion energy), angst at the end (Crosshair is going through it ok), hurt/comfort, giant family group hug, Crosshair and Wrecker cry, Hunter is emotional, canon typical violence, implied mistreatment by the Empire (did I mention Crosshair is going through it?), family reunion, all the family fluff I could fit into 3k words

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The sound of blaster fire was becoming permanent in Wrecker’s ears. Hunkered down behind a duracrete barrier, he kept his DC-17 trained on the Imps attempting to advance on his position, blaster bolts streaming past his head.

“Seriously, who trained these guys to shoot,” he thought to himself, needing to only dodge a few bolts from the barrage while his targets fell with each pull of his trigger.

The landing platform at the depot on Barton IV was looking more like a true battlefield and less like a remote outpost with every passing minute. Two T-4 shuttles lay in smoking ruins - the first thanks to Hunter’s skill on the Marauder’s rear gun and the second thanks to an excellent detonator throw by Wrecker - and stormtrooper bodies lay scattered across the duracrete ground. So far, Wrecker and Hunter were executing their part of the plan perfectly, but when it came to creating distractions, there wasn’t much guess work as to Wrecker’s success rate.

The Batch’s intel told them that the depot, located on a desolate, frozen planet that rivaled Hoth’s icy temperatures, normally operated as a blip on the Empire’s priority list. In fact, blip might have been giving it too much credit. The small clone trooper squad that was assigned to protection detail put in requests for equipment, supplies, and reinforcements throughout their year of service, and every request fell on deaf imperial ears. Gathered from the information Tech found during his hacking, Commander Mayday of the squad put in a request for reinforcements 40 rotations ago, citing that only five members of his squad remained alive at the time the request went in, but Tech couldn’t find any log of a response anywhere in the records. Complete silence from the Empire.

Until 4 rotations ago. The call went out for a platoon of stormtroopers to ready for deployment to Barton IV with orders to transport cargo of high importance to the Empire from the depot to the military base on Coruscant. Prior to the platoon’s arrival, a small squad of clone troopers was sent to scout and ready the depot for the cargo transfer. The squad consisted of two standard troopers and one specialized. One prickly, stubborn, unyielding specialized trooper who Wrecker couldn’t wait to see again.

When Tech caught chatter that a clone trooper shot a commanding imperial officer in broad daylight in front of an imperial depot, he initially intended to send the intel directly to Captain Rex, informing him of another defecting clone who would be in need of assistance, but after he scanned the information log, he didn’t register his datapad falling from his hands, thudding on the floor, only able to to focus on activating the comm on his vambrace, urging Hunter to get to the Marauder as quickly as possible. Because there in front of him, written across the Marauder’s main computer, was CT-9904: Defector. Charged with the murder of Lieutenant Nolan. In custody on Barton IV. Scheduled for armed transfer in two rotations.

The discussion was short - Hunter the only one remaining cautious until Tech confirmed the lack of security at the depot, even with the stormtrooper platoon coming in - and the Batch set their course to Barton IV less than two hours after the message was intercepted. The plan was easy, one the Batch could nearly execute in their sleep, even with their newer blonde addition. Create a distraction to draw the majority of security out into the open which Hunter and Wrecker would engage while Omega provided cover from the Marauder. Meanwhile, Tech and Echo skirt along the edge of the chaos, slip into the depot undetected, locate Crosshair’s location, and extract him while neutralizing any remaining threats if necessary.

Plans 5, 4, and 21. The Batch specialty.

“Wrecker, incoming! Northwest!” Hunter’s smokey voice called over the commotion.

The far gate of the depot opened, ten stormtroopers running out to join the fight. “Yeah, I see ‘em, Sarge,” Wrecker confirmed. “They look excited to see us.”

Hunter took cover behind his barrier, and turned his head in Wrecker’s direction.

“How about you give our hosts a warm greeting?” Hunter suggested, cocking his head to the side. Wrecker could feel the smug smirk under that helmet.

“Gladly,” Wrecker responded gleefully.

Reaching into the pack on his back, he grabbed two thermal detonators, clicked them live, and chucked. They arced into the air, curving in opposite directions, landing right in the middle of the oncoming troopers, and Wrecker watched as all ten stormtroopers disappeared into a beautiful burst of orange, red, and black.

“Direct hit,” Wrecker yelled, pumping his DC-17 in triumph.

Across the way, Hunter gave a quick thumbs up and popped his head above his barrier. Wrecker did the same, confirming that the landing platform was clear of imps for the moment, but they knew more troopers would arrive soon. They’d only taken out about 30 of them so far.

“Agh, where are they,” Hunter wondered, helmet trained on the door they expected to see their brothers emerge from.

“Give ‘em a few more minutes, Sarge. I doubt the Empire just left Crosshair in a set of binders on a crate.”

“They’re dumb enough to,” Hunter said. A soft chuckle came through his modulator, “Wonder how long he’d humor them until he took them all out with his hands still bound.”

“Knowing Crosshair? They wouldn’t even get the binders on him,” Wrecker laughed.

Hunter went quiet, helmet still pointed at the door. Then his shoulders fell like he was bowing to a weight Wrecker couldn’t see. “We’ll have to be patient. He’s…” Hunter paused. “He’s probably not the Crosshair we remember. There are going to be some … invisible wounds.”

Wrecker released his own shuttered breath. He looked down at the ground for a moment, and then looked back up to find Hunter looking back at him. “Doesn’t matter how long it takes. We’ll help patch those up too.”

Hunter remained still for a breath and then nodded.

The silence was interrupted by a chime on Hunter’s comm. “What’ve you got, Omega?” he asked as he activated the connection.

“I’m picking up multiple heat signatures heading our way. Looks like our little break is over,” Omega’s voice chirped over the comm.

“Copy that,” Hunter responded.

Wrecker brought his own comm up to his mouth. “What’s your count, kid?” he asked playfully.

“I’m at 4,” Omega answered, a smug tone floating through.

“Only 4? You’re falling behind. I’m at 18,” Wrecker said.

“I don’t think the thermal detonators should count,” Hunter interjected.

“What?! Did you see how perfectly those landed? Probably my best yet! Not even Tech could pull that off.”

“It’s hardly fair when I’m all the way back here on the Marauder!” Omega argued.

“Excuses excuses, kid,” Wrecker teased. Their debate came to a quick halt when the remaining hangar doors of the depot opened, revealing the last wave of the platoon. “Alright, break time’s over. Shoot good, kid.”

The platform became engulfed in battle once again. Blaster bolts peppered the air. Thermal detonators flew. Line after line of stormtroopers tried to take the advantage on the two ground soldiers and their coverage, but Hunter, Wrecker, and Omega held them back with ease. Wrecker heard General Skywalker speaking to Hunter about something called meditation once - a staple Jedi practice of centering one’s mind and connecting with the force through quiet sitting - and while Wrecker wasn’t sure this would meet the Jedi standard, he imagined this was the closest to meditation he would ever come. Surrounded by the sounds of battle. Adrenaline pumping in his veins. He’d hit a point of focus that drowned everything else out, his mission the only thought in his mind. And he was dam good at it, too.

His DC-17 sang, and he let out a jovial laugh as he took down another line of troopers. As he focused on the enemies in front of him, the squad’s comm channel chimed in his helmet, and the only thing in the galaxy that could divert his attention from the battle in front of him called through the speakers.

“Hunter. Wrecker. We’ve got him. We’re approaching the exit. What’s the status of the platform?” Echo’s voice came through.

For a second, Wrecker and Hunter turned towards each other, both chests rising rapidly with fast breaths not caused by the battle in front of them, and Wrecker knew if he could see Hunter’s eyes, they’d reflect the same bottomless relief he was feeling.

Wrecker forced himself back to the present and provided cover fire while Hunter responded.

“You’re clear to exit. A few imps left but nothing we can’t handle. Wrecker and I will provide cover fire while you cross the platform. Go directly to the Marauder,” Hunter ordered.

Wrecker’s breath caught in his throat when a low, raspy voice could be heard in the background. “No, we thought we’d take a hike in the mountains.”

A hitched breath came through, and in his peripheral, Wrecker noticed Hunter lean his helmet back against the duracrete barrier, shoulders shaking.

“I never thought I’d miss his attitude,” Omega piped in.

That broke the tension building in Wrecker’s head, and a laugh barreled out from his chest. Brain clear and ready to act again, he focused on the remaining stormtroopers trying to hold their ground.

“Omega, get the engines running. We’re getting off this hunk of ice as soon as we’re all onboard,” Hunter finished relaying the orders.

“One more thing,” Tech’s voice came through this time. “I did the scan. The inhibitor chip has indeed been removed, but only after the encounter on Bracca. Crosshair did remove it voluntarily unbeknownst to the Empire.”

“Tech kind of refused to leave the holding cells until he was able to confirm it all. Hacked records and everything here on the depot. That’s what took us so long,” Echo supplied.

“Thank the Maker for Tech, and his stubborn need for knowledge,” Hunter mumbled. He went back on the comm, “Glad to hear it. Now get out here.”

Hunter turned to Wrecker. “Let’s take out as many as we can before they get here. Once they emerge, you lay down cover fire, and I’ll take overwatch.”

“Copy that,” Wrecker replied, and they went to work.

Time that had been passing at light speed slowed to the flow of Mustafar lava. Only ten stormtroopers remained posted across the platform, and Wrecker was determined to clear as many as he could before his brothers emerged.

Another minute passed. Another. Then another. Time was taunting him.

A whoosh floated over the blasterfire. The blasted door to the depot finally opened, and there in the doorway were three bent over figures - two supporting the weight of the third in between them - hobbling onto the landing deck. Wrecker allowed himself one glance hoping it would calm his running mind. Echo took most of the middle figure’s weight, flesh arm wrapped around their waist and scomp arm securing the arm wrapped across Echo’s back dangling over his shoulder, while Tech kept one arm around the figure’s waist and kept his blaster at the ready in the other.

As Wrecker glanced at them, it wasn’t the figure’s distinct all black armor - the armor of the imperial special forces - that identified him to Wrecker. No, it was the tattoo around their right eye. The tattoo Wrecker sat and watched as Tech gave it to them when they were still just cadets. The tattoo that represented their pride in their skill. The tattoo that told everyone exactly which batch he belonged to, front and center for all to see. The crosshair.

Flanking from behind, Tech easily took down three stormtroopers before they made their way down the stairs. The remaining seven stormtroopers barked out orders to fall back, trying to regroup due to the new arrivals, and Wrecker used their confusion to his advantage, taking out another three in one go. Realizing they were outnumbered and outmatched, the remaining four stormtroopers fell back to the hangar, shooting wildly at any target they could see.

Slower than Wrecker would like, his three brothers made their way to his and Hunter’s position across the platform. As soon as they crossed the threshold of their barriers, Hunter stood from his coverage, falling in step to provide cover directly at their backs.

“Alright, Wrecker. Let’s keep these guys pinned as we head to the ship,” Hunter said.

Jumping into position, Wrecker kept a steady pace back to the Marauder without breaking his fire on the remaining stormtroopers. Hunter hit one more as they walked, and Wrecker had his finger on the trigger to take down another when a streak of pink flew over his head and directly into the helmet of his target.

He glanced over his shoulder.

“Final count: 12,” Omega beamed down at him from the top of the ramp into the Marauder.

“Aha! Nice shot, kid! Now let’s get out of here,” Wrecker said, barreling up the ramp into the ship.

The ramp closed up as the ship made its way into the air, and the energy within immediately went still. Tech sat in the cockpit, taking over the controls from Omega once on board, but Hunter, Wrecker, Echo, Omega, and Crosshair remained in the hold.

Crosshair sat in the chair in front of the computer, slumped over, one hand on the armrest propping him while an elbow rested on a knee like that was all the energy he could muster. He was breathing heavy, chest rising and falling as if he’d just finished a training sprint back on Kamino. Wrecker quickly gave his body a once over. Crosshair had always been lithe, by far the smallest body mass of the Bad Batch, but there had been muscle underneath those long limbs that gave any regular clone trooper a run for his money. Now, Wrecker clocked only bones showing underneath the exposed areas his armor didn’t cover, and his cheekbones were sharp above the hollowness of his cheeks. Purple blotched under his eyes, and it was impossible not to notice the deep scar that covered the right side on the back of his head. The scar he received when he took the full heat of a Venator ion engine.

The same engine he tried to trap his brothers in.

“Thank you…for coming for me. I…I wouldn’t have blamed you if you didn’t,” Crosshair drawled, head bent down. Whether he was unable to lift it from lack of strength or not being able to face the current scene, Wrecker wasn’t sure. His own heart was thudding in his chest, threatening to burst out. He called on every ounce of discipline and self-restraint he learned in his years as a soldier and remained rooted in place, holding his breath. The rest of the Batch stood as still as statues, four sets of eyes on their silver-haired brother.

“You can drop me off at the closest port. You can pick. Doesn’t matter to me,” Crosshair said to the floor. Still, no one else spoke. He raised his head, glancing at each of them. His gaze settled on Hunter. “I…I’d understand if that’s what you want to do. It’s what you should do.”

The five of them felt the Marauder lurch into hyperspace, but still, Echo, Omega, Hunter, and Wrecker didn’t budge. Footsteps approached from the cockpit, and soon, Tech joined them, choosing to sit in the chair across from Crosshair. The silence grew, and Wrecked noticed the crease between the sniper’s eyebrows deepen while his eyes darted around the group.

“Well, aren’t any of you going to say something?” Crosshair asked, frustration creeping into his voice. He glanced around one more time, and finally stood up from the chair, a growl coming from his throat, back hunched like he was ready to pounce, and his gaze locked on Hunter, a finger pointed at the sergeant. “Listen, I didn’t ask you to come get me. I was ready to die on that platform after I shot the lieutenant, and I was ready to die in whatever maker-forsaken place they were going to send me. You hear me? I didn’t ask for this.” He gestured around the room, around the Batch.

“So don’t make me a burden you don’t want. Drop me anywhere. Leave me. It’s what I deserve - oof!”

Wrecker couldn’t take it anymore, and as he watched Crosshair teeter on the precipice of self-destruction, he took two strides towards his brother, and engulfed him in his arms.

Crosshair stiffened, his arms frozen mid-gesture to the side. Wrecker stood there, arms firmly wrapped around Crosshair’s back and shoulders, head dipping to rest on top of Crosshair’s head, and he waited. Eventually, Crosshair’s arms fell to his sides, but his body remained stiff like he wasn’t actually registering what was happening. Then, after a few breaths, his arms slowly rose, one wrapping under Wrecker’s arm and the other circling over his shoulder.

“Why did you come for me?” Wrecker heard muffled into his chestplate.

“We don’t leave our own behind,” Wrecker answered simply.

Wrecker felt the shaking first, then he heard the soft sobs. Tightening his arms, he held his once-lost brother as if challenging the galaxy to try and separate them again. When he felt Crosshair crumble into his chest, he released the grip he’d been holding on his own emotions, and the tears flowed freely. Tears of sorrow for what Crosshair endured. Tears of rage at the Empire. Tears of sweet relief at his family being whole again.

Wrecker felt a pair of arms sneak between his waist and Crosshair’s chest, and when he looked up, he saw Hunter wrapped around Crosshair’s back, arms crushing the sniper into the sergeant’s chest. “We’ve got you, Cross,” Hunter murmured.

One-by-one, Tech, Echo, and Omega joined in, the last squeezing herself into the middle, wrapping her arms around Crosshair’s leg, and even when the sobs quieted, they remained that way. There was a lot to talk about. A long road of trust to regain. They were about to navigate rough terrain. And the past will resurface, in old wounds, physical and not. But none of that mattered right now. In the middle of their home, a family reunited. Unsure what the future would bring them, but ready to face it all together.

#tay writes the bad batch #tay writes #divider by samspenandsword #the bad batch #star wars #hunter #wrecker #crosshair #tech #omega #echo #tbb wrecker #tbb hunter #tbb omega #tbb echo #tbb tech #tbb crosshair

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layla4567 · 4 months

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A WHOLE NEW WORLD PT2

Shanks x Mermaid!reader

Summary: You decide to stay with Shanks for a while and see what happens. You will discover that life will give you obstacles that you will have to face.

Warnings: Again fluff things (pretty corny), beta read, Shanks never loses his arm because I say so, kissing, sfw, a bit of angst near the end (but don't worry is a happy ending)

Wc: 4k

A/N: This will be the final part! I wasn't planning on making a second part but someone reblogged the previous part wanting it to continue lol (thank you for that I feel honored) So I got some inspiration, I hope you like it

"YES! I KNEW IT! THAT'S WHY YOU WERE SO WEIRD!". Young Luffy said, jumping with his arms raised as he saw the two of you.

Shanks moved away from you a little and looked at the laughing boy.

"And when were you going to tell me that you were playing with a mermaid, huh kid?"

Luffy almost turned pale and ran away. You and the redhead burst into laughter along with the rest of the crew. Even in the pirate's arms he turned to see you again and give you a smile full of love. Your eyes expressed what words never could, they were shining in a special way at that moment as if you had the stars hanging from your pupils, shining just for him, like a gift. The captain, after looking at you for a long time in silence, swallowed and said.

"What will you do now (y/n)? Will you go back to the sea?"

Your smile faded a little and you could see concern in his eyes. An immense longing for you to stay with him. You didn't know what to say, was it worth going back to the bottom of the ocean after everything he sacrificed for you? Would you still call it home even if he wasn't there?

"Please stay with me… Just for a while at least". He begged in a low voice so that others couldn't hear him.

His tone of voice made your heart ache a little. He really wanted to stay with you, and honestly you did too. But you were worried about what could happen if you didn't return to the sea, your parents could start a war to search for you in the sky, land and sea. But when you saw Shanks' eyes you knew it was the right thing to stay.

"I will, I'll stay"

The smile appeared on the previously dejected pirate and grew larger. Very gently he made you wrap your arms around his neck and lifted you up holding your tail. He took care of you carefully out of the raft and put you on the boat.

"What are you doing standing there watching? Come on move and get something where she can be in the water!"

The pirates, as if they were dolls that had been wound up, moved quickly like ants trying to get something for you. You smiled amused, Shanks seemed like a good captain because his entire crew always obeyed and you knew that this was because they liked him and felt comfortable with him, otherwise a severe and feared captain would not have been able to obtain the same results because at any moment his crew could stab him in the back. He held you firmly against his chest and you moved the tip of your tail up and down, waiting patiently. Suddenly a pirate dragged a wooden bathtub full of water, it wasn't very big but you could get into it. The red-haired man gently placed you in the bathtub. The water was perfect, neither too cold nor too hot. You shook your tail happily, splashing some water as he looked at you smiling. The other pirates gathered around you, completely surrounding you and looking at you with curiosity as if you were a creature from another planet. Well, you certainly weren't something you saw every day, but it still seemed overwhelming to you. Shanks noticed your concern and ordered the others to move away.

"Oi cods, give her space, come on, move away and continue doing your tasks!"

Again, although somewhat reluctantly, the crew slowly dispersed to different areas of the ship. Only you and Shanks were left on the deck. He approached and crouched down to be at your height, he placed a hand on the edge of the bathtub and slid his fingers into the water, checking the temperature, moving them and playing with the sensation of the liquid on his skin. Without stopping looking at you with a smile

"I hope you can adapt and feel comfortable on this boat, and don't worry about them, sometimes they are a bit airheaded but they are harmless"

You laughed softly and he admired every inch of you.

"Do you think this will work?" . You said a little worried and your brow wrinkled upwards, always so expressive.

"We'll make it work, you'll see."

Your face relaxed, when you were with him you felt safe. Your fingers touched his that were still in the water and you took his hand, intertwining your fingers and giving it a gentle squeeze. They looked at each other smiling, sometimes words were unnecessary when looks could say everything, he didn't want to leave your side.. A couple of pirates had stayed in a corner looking at their captain with amusement while they laughed softly and whispered among themselves. Suddenly their giggles caught your attention and when you turned to see them they were shamelessly mocking each other by drawing hearts in the air with their fingers or pretending to hug themselves and cuddle while kissing the air. You couldn't help but burst out laughing and Shanks, who until now only had eyes for you, looked in the direction of the other two pirates and opened his eyes wide as he frowned and blushed slightly. Disturbed and ashamed, he jumped to his feet.

"Damn seaweed, didn't I tell you to get to work?!". He exclaimed exasperatedly as he addressed them with his hands up, chasing them away as if they were dogs while you were still laughing.

Little by little you were getting used to life on the boat. It was still difficult because due to your status as a mermaid and your tail you had to always stay in the water, but the wooden bathtub they had gotten you was perfect and they had also placed one in what was your new room, so the only thing I had was What Shanks did was pick you up and carry you to your room, and he was always happy to do it.

Shanks had decorated your room in the best way possible. I had placed some shells on a desk and hung starfish and seaweed from the ceiling, so you wouldn't miss the sea so much. That gesture had touched your heart deeply. Who knew a pirate could have such a soft heart? You imagined them to be heartless and malevolent but he was different. Fun, attentive, kind… your parents might have been wrong in judging humans. Every night he came to wish you sweet dreams and sometimes he stayed a little longer chatting with you until you fell asleep.

You were sleeping peacefully in the bathtub with your hands resting on the edge and your head resting on your arms when you heard in your dreams that a door slowly opened. You blinked several times until you opened your eyes. The morning light streamed in through the ship's round window. When you looked towards the door you saw Shanks standing leaning against the frame smiling at you. You finished opening your eyes and smiled at him.

"Hello sleeping beauty, ready to start the day?". The pirate said as he approached you.

You closed your eyes and smiled toothlessly as you stretched like a cat, wrinkling your nose tenderly. He squatted down and rested his arms on the edge of the bathtub.

"Did you sleep well?"

You finished stretching and feeling your body more relaxed, you sighed "Like never before, thank you."

"I'm glad to hear that. Well beautiful, how about we go on deck? Luffy is waiting for you"

I then slide my hands into the water and surround your tail to lift you up. You, who were still half asleep, let out a surprised shriek that made him laugh. As always, you surrounded his neck with your arms and, yawning tiredly, you laid your head on his chest. Shanks, who was not expecting this, felt his heart speed up a little. When you reached the deck, Luffy was already waiting for you next to the bathtub. He had his arms up to the elbows in the water and moved his hands playfully as he concentrated on seeing the inside of the bathtub. The redhead arrived laughing when he saw the naughty boy. Luffy, upon hearing his footsteps, quickly took out his hands, caught red-handed, and blushed.

"Oh hi! I was just uhh checking to make sure it's not too cold for you!"

"Yeah sure, and you looked like a lot of fun doing it". Shanks answered mischievously.

Young Luffy got a little nervous and the pirate laughed amusedly. After leaving you in the tub he shook Luffy's hair and walked away. The curly-haired boy sat on the ground while still looking at your tail in admiration. His little eyes were big and bright and you thought they were adorable.

"Luffy do you like my tail that much?". You said laughing

"Is that is so pretty! I've never seen a mermaid up close, and she looks like the color of Shanks' hair."

You turned to see the captain who was busy at the helm. "That's true."

And so I spent the afternoon with you and Luffy playing. He was crawling around your bathtub and you were trying to catch him. Throughout the ship the only thing you could hear was the laughter of the two of you. From time to time the red-haired captain looked at the two of you, smiling warmly.

"Catch you!!" . You exclaimed as you touched the boy's back with the tips of your fingers.

Luffy squealed laughingly as he felt the water slip from your fingers and wet his shirt. He got up exhausted from having been crouched for so long but as happy as ever.

"You're very fun, I like playing with you!"

"You are too, in fact you are the purest child I have ever met. You are like a little walking rainbow, always knowing how to come out at the right time and bringing joy to everyone". You said solemnly

The young boy smiled until his little eyes wrinkled and hugged you tightly, hanging on to your neck. You gasped in surprise and giggled and hugged him back, rubbing his back. Shanks watched the scene from afar, sighing tenderly. Being so good with the children, he couldn't help but think how good a mother you could be one day.

When the child broke away from your embrace, he whispered in your ear.

"Could you sing that song you taught me one day, please?"

Smiling motherly at his cute request, you nodded, satisfying his wishes. Luffy sat cross-legged on the wooden floor and clearing your throat you began to sing. Suddenly the entire ship succumbed in silence to hear your voice, as if you had put them under a spell. Without realizing it, the other pirates had gotten a little closer to you and had also sat down like children waiting for their turn to ask Santa Claus for their gifts. It was a beautiful lullaby, it talked about longing for the old days and enjoying the little things like the warmth of the sun or the blue sky. You intoned each note with your heart. Everyone was looking at you and sighing with their faces resting on their hands, the only one who didn't seem so surprised was Shanks himself since he had already heard you sing, even so it was always a delight to hear you as if it were the first time. At the end of the song everyone applauded happily, you shrugged your shoulders blushing and smiled shyly. You looked in the direction of the redhead and you smiled at each other, holding your gaze for a few seconds.

That same night when the captain took you to your room bridal style and left you in the bathtub, he stayed with you a while longer.

"It seems like you won their hearts out there, should I be worried that they'll pay more attention to you than me now?". He said playfully.

You laughed softly, shaking your head vigorously. "Never that. They love you, you can tell that you are an excellent captain for them."

He nodded smiling and then took your hand to kiss your knuckles "But I love you and no one else but you."

You blushed and smiled looking down as he massaged your knuckles with his thumb always keeping his eyes on yours.

"You know, I love that you get along with Luffy, he's someone important to me and…"

Shanks stopped there mid-sentence, suddenly not knowing how to continue. He wanted to share his thoughts with you but he was afraid that you would reject him or get angry with him.

"Yes? Please continue, what were you going to say?". You said anxiously

He swallowed hard. "Uh, I think… you'd be good with kids someday… if you wanted to."

You looked at him open-mouthed and you felt your heart hammering in your chest. Was he trying to say that he wanted to have a child with you? Your cheeks began to heat up slightly and you could swear that the water would begin to boil and evaporate if he stayed there with you any longer. You accidentally leaned closer to him and he did the same.

"Shanks.. do you meant it?" You breathed close to his lips, looking at them.

His gaze went from your lips to your eyes "Yes… but I don't want to force you into anything, it's just-"

You didn't let him finish. You crashed your lips into his in a passionate kiss. You swallowed his gasp of surprise, you just wanted to taste his lips and eat his mouth. He slowly slid a hand into the bathtub, searching for your tail. When he found it with his open palm he ascended, caressing you gently. His touch tickled your belly. When he reached your stomach he rose a little more and the warmth of his hand made you let out a weak moan. You placed your hands on his shoulders and circled your waist, resting his hand firmly on your hip. Before things could continue to heat up you separated, catching your breath. You saw that he kept leaning drunk and eager for your kisses and when his lips approached yours again you laughed softly and gently pushed him back.

"Good night Shanks, sleep tight."

He looked at you with sad puppy eyes and gave a slight pout that almost made you change your mind but you stood your ground, you didn't want to wake the others. He understood and gave up, walking away towards the door. Before leaving he told you

"Rest (y/n), and dream of me". He winked

You giggled at his playful tease. When he closed the door you sank into the water and closed your eyes, and as if it were some kind of visionary, that night you did dream about him.

For a crew to have a mermaid was a good thing and with your knowledge of the entire ocean and its depths, the pirates you lived with had to take full advantage of that. So since you couldn't move on land you would do it by sea. Every noon when the ship set sail they would take you down into the boat and you would go into the depths of the water guiding the ship towards safe areas or warning of any rock that could not be seen with the naked eye and could sink the ship and leading the way. You were their eyes while they were up there

That day, like so many others, they had put you on the raft and then lowered you into the water.

"Be careful down there, okay?". Shanks told you something fearful

He was very protective and not only of you but of Luffy as well. He knew you could take care of yourself but he couldn't help but worry every time he left you alone.

You placed a hand on his cheek, reassuring him. "Everything will be fine, don't worry."

A few minutes later, the crew lowered the raft and with a splash it fell into the water where with one jump you sank into the sea. You were faster than any fish so immediately the boat set sail and tried to follow you closely. You explored the deep ocean without finding anything alarming. From time to time you let yourself be carried away by the happiness that came from being in the water where you had grown up and greeting one or another dolphin that passed near you. Satisfied with your search, you stuck your head out of the water a few meters from the boat and shouted to them that you had found nothing and that everything was in order.

Relieved, they looked at you smiling and prepared the raft to get you back on. Happy you looked towards the horizon enjoying the view. You stayed like that for a few seconds until you noticed something was wrong. Suddenly a small whirlwind began to open in the water. At first it was small but as the minutes passed it grew. Like a black hole that swallowed everything. They hadn't noticed it yet but you turned pale and your heart raced, I already knew what it meant. The whirlwind now seemed like a tidal wave and the blue sky was being covered with gray clouds, as if a storm would break out at any moment. At that precise moment Shanks looked at the sky and realized what was happening. He ran to the railing of the boat, sticking his head out, and saw you there unable to move in the water.

"(Y/N) WHAT'S HAPPENING?"

"IT'S MY FAMILY! I KNEW SOONER OR LATER THEY WOULD FIND ME!". You said desperately

Shanks noticed that the ocean currents were getting stronger and shaking the ship. Without thinking twice he let go of the raft, bringing the boat closer to you.

"COME ON UP, QUICKLY!"

You swam with all your strength feeling like something was following you but you didn't know what it was. You jumped onto the raft and when they were lifting you something jumped out of the water and grabbed your tail, pulling it and pulling you back into the sea. You screamed and clung to the raft, when you turned to see what had caught you you saw that it was your cousin with her face twisted with anger.

"Traitor!! You went with the humans and abandoned us!"

"No! That's not true! Let me go!!". You exclaimed scared.

Shanks along with his crew raised the boat at full speed but now with two mermaids it was heavier and they had to use force. When the raft reached the top he leaned down to grab you and you clung to his arms, shaking your tail hard to get rid of your cousin who was holding you firmly like a tick. Shanks leaned closer and closer to try to lift you up and onto the deck but he made a serious mistake. By bending so much he was at the complete mercy of your cousin who was blinded by anger.

"So this is the damned pirate that took you away from us, YOU'LL SEE WHAT I DO WITH HIM!"

And with the strength of a thousand horses she grabbed him by the arms and threw him into the sea along with her, sending him to the bottom.

"NO CORAL DON'T DO IT!!!". You screamed in anguish, your face scrunched up in terror.

In panic you saw how she was taken to the bottom of the ocean and in desperation you jumped after her, while the aquatic whirlwind continued to happen and the sky continued to get grayer and grayer, shaking the boat. You swam with all the strength that your tail allowed you. Your cousin dug her nails into the pirate's shoulders and you saw how he writhed. Your cousin, who was older than you, was faster and had more resistance, so little by little she was moving away. Frightened, you watched as Shanks was losing strength and moving slower, closing his eyes. This lit a fuse in you and, frowning, you swam further and further until you reached her, you weren't going to let them take him from you, you weren't going to lose him. With a strong and abrupt push you pushed your cousin away from him. Your rage and determination were so great that the blow sent your cousin away and when she tried to follow you you were already swimming towards the raft.

You nervously placed Shanks' unconscious body on top of the wooden raft as best you could and then climbed onto it, protecting his body with yours as if you were a shield. They took you up quickly and when you reached the top they helped you get on and put the captain's body on the ground. He dragged you quickly and desperately towards him while the others gave you space.

Luffy approached, scared and distressed. "Would he be okay?"

Distraught, you turned to see him, he was in the middle of two pirates looking at you scared. You turned to see Shanks who still had his eyes closed but was breathing. You also wanted him to wake up so with all your heart you hoped and hoped that he would be okay.

You moved closer to his face and placed your hands on his chest, his wet hair sticking to his face. Your brow furrows upward and your face wrinkles with sadness.

"Please, please wake up! Tell me something!". He implored with moist eyes and a broken voice

But he was still unconscious and you didn't get a response. You couldn't help it and burst into tears. Luffy wanted to sit with you and comfort you but a pirate stopped him by putting his hand on his shoulder. You clung to the captain's soaked shirt that was sticking to his skin.

"Please I want you to wake up. Don't leave me, I love you". You sobbed and rested your forehead on his chest.

A dead silence reigned on the ship. A couple of tears fell from Luffy's eyes. You felt terrible and deep down you felt like this was your fault. If you had not been so curious and so reckless, if you had listened to your parents and not approached humans, none of this would have happened. But another part of you didn't regret anything, because you had discovered a completely different and wonderful new world, you had met equally beautiful people, for the first time you had known what freedom was.

You were so deep in your thoughts and emotions that you didn't realize that Shanks had woken up. He slowly opened his eyes and when you heard a pitiful moan you raised your head with your eyes wide open. He began to cough and turned around to spit out the water he had swallowed. From afar Luffy shouted and clapped his hands happily. When the captain recovered he was still lying on the floor and you were on top of him. He looked at you smiling and a little tired but happy. You laughed and cried at the same time, relieved and letting out all the sorrows and emotions that you had saved. Shanks cupped your cheeks and placed his forehead against yours.

"I was so scared, I thought I was going to lose you and-". You said between hiccups

"Shh don't say that, I would never leave you, I'm already here". He calmed you down.

It was like a balm. They both merged into a strong hug while the crew, always happy that their captain was safe, smiled with relief. Suddenly the redhead separated a little from you and whispered in your ear.

"(y/n) I love you too much and I mean it since I saw you, you have opened my heart. When I was under the water I realized something and that is that I can't live without you. Would you do me the honor of being my wife?"

You felt your eyes glaze over again and you broke away completely to look at him before you could answer. He reached into his pants pocket and pulled out something. When he handed it to you you saw that it was a ring, a wire hoop with a pearl set in the center. It was simple and simple but it seemed like the most beautiful thing in the universe and even more beautiful than if they had given you a diamond ring. The crew gasped in surprise. You covered your face with one hand and crying with emotion, you nodded your head several times. Feeling like his heart would burst out of his chest with happiness, Shanks smiled hugely and grabbed your hand to put the ring on it. The crew went crazy just like little Luffy and celebrating their captain's achievement they all shouted happily. Suddenly when the red-haired man finished sliding the ring on your finger you felt a tingle on your tail and you noticed that it started to glow. Shanks got up and you moved away and sat down, watching as your tail began to glow more intensely to the point of dazzling you. You covered your eyes a little and out of the corner of your eye you noticed how the tip of your fins was disappearing as if it were becoming invisible and some toes appeared in their place. The transformation continued until only two legs were left instead of your tail, you tried to cover yourself, embarrassed since you weren't wearing anything down.. Luffy opened his mouth in astonishment and a pirate covered his eyes so that he could not continue seeing.

Shanks saw you stunned but when he noticed that your legs appeared and that you were naked from the waist down he quickly took off his shirt and wrapped you in it.

"I-I don't understand why your tail disappeared?"

You looked at him smiling "When a mermaid commits to a human, she loses her tail and her status as a mermaid."

"Does that mean you're human now?"

You nodded, looking at him lovingly. You noticed that the waters were now calm and the sky clear again. Shanks approached you confused and crouched down next to you.

"You really gave up being a mermaid for me?"

"Oh love, I would go to the end of the world for you"

And you two looked at each other and, touching your foreheads, you felt that the best was about to begin…

....

"And what happened next!?". Exclaimed a small voice full of impatience

"Yes! What happens next? Come on, tell us!". Said another with annoyance

A tender laugh came out of a woman's mouth, while the children looked anxiously. "Well, let's say that the little mermaid and the brave pirate got married, had two beautiful children and lived happily ever after. Did you like it?"

The boy and girl sitting on the floor of the ship shouted happily in agreement while the woman laughed tenderly. Suddenly a handsome boy with a straw hat and brown hair approached the anchored ship and jumped up onto the deck.

"How are little Nerea and Luca?". He said smiling and looking at the children

The girl and the boy gave Luffy a big hug and you got up from the barrel you were sitting on and looked at them, feeling your heart warmer. Luffy has grown so much and now he even has his own crew called the Straw Hats. Shanks had given him his precious hat and now he cared for it like it was gold, he was so proud of it. Sometimes when Luffy had time he would come visit you two and tell about his adventures with pride. Although you were now the mother of Nerea and Luca, you still saw Luffy as a third son.

And talking about them you couldn't be happier. They both looked so much like their father. They had inherited her hair color, red as fire but Nerea had your eyes. And they both appreciate the pirate's personality, especially Luca. Shanks finished his work and came to your side, putting his arm around your shoulder and kissing your cheek. When the children saw him, they ran towards him.

"DAD!!"

"Hey flea! Come here darling"

The pirate lifted his daughter, kissing the tip of her nose.

"What about me?". Luca said a little sad and jealous.

"Oh you too, rascal, come." Shanks raised his son with his other arm, making him laugh. Luffy watched everything amused and you got emotional every time Shanks played with them. He was a loving father

In the end everything turned out well, you got used to your human life and you had built a beautiful and happy family. And you had seen Luffy grow up watching him become a pirate and captain of his own ship. You were proud of everything you had achieved and what your loved ones had achieved too.

But if it was about achievements, you couldn't leave your husband behind. He was with you through thick and thin, during pregnancy and when the twins were born. You looked at him and he looked back at you with a smile.

"I love you, you know that?". You said

"I know because you tell me every time you see me." He laughs "But I love you more."

He approached and kissed you lovingly, earning an eww from his children. Laughing Shanks tickled them and chased them around the ship with you running behind laughing happily, spreading joy. Yes, sometimes life takes away, but it also gives.

I'm a slut for Disney movies (the classics especially) so after doing a marathon of classic princess movies and some live actions this is what came out :P

I just love fairy tales and happy endings 😭✨

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riniworld · 3 months

Note

Hmm.. How about a Yan! Prince x older! Royal sorcerer reader?

Or maybe Yan prince x siren/mermaid reader? Maybe when he gets lost at sea and when reader saves him and brings him back to shore he basically places a bounty on siren readers head and whoever brings reader to him they'll be awarded with money?

You can choose either one, doesn't really matter to me lol

I'll do the second one 'cause there's a scenario lol

no pronouns for the reader mentioned

warnings// obsession,i don't think there's anything else.

refrence// you,mermaid.

humid air is blowing,the weather is sunny and the sea is calm.

what's the best day to sail than this day?

but the prince doesn't like the sea,he just want to go back to his room and read some books or maybe even paint if he's in the mood.

but his father has insist for him to go with them.

he's seating on the edge of the ship,watching everyone working and his father telling the captain how long they will sail and when they will return,expect him,he don't have anything to do.

his father took him in a hurry and he didn't bring with him anything to wast time on.

it was a normal sailing everything went fine and boring.

it's dinner time,the prince and his father is eating in a room alone,They're on their way back to the shore.

suddenly they feel the ship moving in a wierd way,right and left.

it was a fainting movement so no one cared about it,but soon it started swaying violently,the planets fell on the ground and the two royals doing they're best to not roll with the movement of the ship.

"I'm going to see what's happening,you stay here son." the king said and start walking to the door carefully.

it's been some minutes since the king left.

the prince started feeling dizzy,he's gonna throw up in any minute

the last thing he remember is the window breaks and the water start to fill the room.

you were having your fun with the animals in the sea.

you've always loved playing with these creature and staying alone rather than being with the rest of the family.

you swam randomly, not having a specific place in mind,when you saw something or someone felling down, it looked like a human.

you're family has warned you from humans alot saying they're a dangerous creatures,and if they knew about you no one will stay well.

but you were curious plus he was nearly dead.

you swam to him getting closer carefully.

you decided to get him out of the sea,you don't want to be a reason for someone to die right?

you put him on your shoulder and swim to the shore.

you put him on the sand after checking that no one is there.

after some seconds he start coughing and groan.

you startled at his sudden movement and back away a bit.

he opened his eyes but closed them right after because of the sun.

"heck,where am i" he murmured.

you were about to leave but when he heard noises from the sea he looked at you.

you froze,you were scared that something might happen, but he kept looking at you with wide eyes.

"who-? who are you?"

you stayed silent,don't know what to say or if you should say anything at all.

but he,he was stunned. you were too beautiful to be true.

like a fairytale,something he didn't think he'll find in reality just in books,he even forget his pain.

You dived into the water the prince shouted "wait" but it was too late.

it's been two weeks,two weeks and you stayed in his mind.

he couldn't think of anything but you,he even painted you a few times now.

how could he find you again? where are you now? will he see you again?

he looked at one of his painting of you,it was right in front of his bed.

then this idea crossed his mind.

he ordered the Guards, reporters, and preachers to hang posters of you, and whoever can bring you to him will get several million.

the civilians was confused,mermaid? is there anything like that? is the prince okay?

knock knock

"come in" the prince said as someone knocked on his door

the king entered with a frown "what's the meaning of this?"

he was holding one of the posters.

"it's like what is written in it"

"...you're books started playing with your mind,what's nonsense is that? mermaid? really?"

"yes really."

"Do you know what the people are saying about you right now?"

"i don't care" he didn't even look at his father,turns the pages of the book.

"I will order to take down all of this posters"

the prince slams the book shot "no you won't"

"i will,and that's that,i just wanted to tell you to stop all that" with that the king left.

well if his father going to stand in his face,then he'll do it himself.

the night was cold,but he didn't care.

he'll stay here at the ship untill he sees a glimp of you.

he already put a pool full of sea water.

he's so sure he'll catch you,after all he spends most of his time searching on how to attract a mermaid.

Pearls were easy to obtain, as he was a prince and owned many of these shining jewels.

he put Many of them on the ship, until it becomes shone at night.

sure you'll love it right?

Many of the seaving crew were there, ready to catch something they did not know what is it or if it was real,but they couldn't disobey the prince after all

you were returning to your family when something shining caught your eye,oh it was so beautiful,like the moon has come to the earth,it won't be a problem to just see what's that right?

you swim to the top.

as soon as the prince saw a Shadow coming his way, his eyes lit up.

he orders the crew to get ready as they bring the net closer to the edge.

as soon as you put your head up a net was thrown at you.

you struggles to get out but it was too late,they already lifting you up.

you felt yourself getting in a water again and when you opened your eyes you saw the same human you saved looking at you with a wierd look.

would it be better if you let him die that day?

that was fun to write!

also if you're confused at what happened when the window breaks on the prince.

it was just his part who broke the rest of the ship was a little better but it was sinking from behind (the place where the prince was), but they were able to reach the shore before it sank completely.

have a nice day/night

masterlist

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x y/n #yandere x you #yandere oc #yandere oc x reader #yandere oc x you #yandere oc x y/n

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persephone-writes · 6 months

Text

On the Streets of Coruscant: Part Two

Obi-Wan x Fem!Reader

Read Part One (posted on my old account @persephone-writes2)

Obi-Wan image by ObmanBalagan on pinterest

Description: Over a decade after their spontaneous stroll around the Plaza, Y/N is working as an aide to Senator Amidala. When the Senator is placed under the protection of two Jedi after an assassination attempt, Y/N is reunited with the now Master Obi-Wan Kenobi.

Word Count: 9.7k

Warnings & Tags: canon typical violence/the assassination attempts of Padme (mentioned only), mild discussions of low self esteem, reader specifically does *not* have children, probably a crap ton of grammatical errors, lots of Y/N usage, fluff, kissing, happy ending!

Notes: Sooo, full warning, I hate this, but I'm posting it anyway! This takes place during Attack of the Clones, so I had to change a few things around to fit in the reader (some things just happen because I said so lol) This also means that I HAD to include Jar Jar. I attempted at writing dialogue for him but I just couldn't bring myself to, so I tried my best to just have him barely be there lmao. Also, mullet obi-wan is top tier and I will die on that hill

Y/N clicked away on her holopad, attempting to get through the pile of work that had been dumped on her that morning. While her job was always demanding, and sometimes overwhelming, this was the busiest she had been in a long time. With Senator Amidala set to arrive on Coruscant today amidst an increasingly intense political climate, Y/N was tasked with taking what seemed like hundreds of messages, thoroughly organizing and answering every one. While Padmé had an array of other aides to help her, Y/N was the head of her office on Coruscant, leaving her with the majority of the responsibility when she was on-planet, besides that of Dormé.

Despite her spinning head, Y/N adored her job, as well as Senator Amidala. She had worked in a variety of low level positions for different Senators, many of which were not nearly as kind. No matter how much pressure she faced, Padmé never spoke harshly or berated those who worked for her. Y/N couldn’t imagine how exhausting it must be to represent an entire planet, all while keeping up a professional appearance. Outside of her office, Padmé had to seem relaxed, dignified, and confident no matter what she was up against. At least Y/N didn’t have to face the wrath of the public or the argumentative nature of the Senate. Always tucked away inside the office, Y/N could plug away at her work without the eyes of thousands upon her at any given time.

Another aide knocked on the door of the office before entering, peeking his head in.

“The Senator is landing.”

“Thank you,” Y/N replied, frantically pulling up the most urgent messages in preparation. The aide hurried away down the hall, the door closing behind him. After a few minutes, a guard came running down the hall, opening the door abruptly. Y/N jumped at the sudden intrusion, growing fearful when she saw the look on his face.

“The Senator’s ship has been attacked,” the guard said, a bit out of breath. Y/N felt her stomach drop, dread rushing through her.

“Is she alright?” Y/N asked, voice desperate. Before he could answer, Captain Typho pushed past him, leading Padmé into the room. Her face was contorted in sadness and confusion, obviously still in shock. She wasn’t wearing her usual attire, dressed identically to Typho in a dark turtleneck and leather vest. She immediately sat down in one of the chairs, head hung low.

A wave of relief came over Y/N knowing Padmé was okay. She immediately rushed to her, kneeling down beside her chair.

“Milady, are you alright?” Padmé only nodded. Y/N looked up at Captain Typho, who was pacing around the room. “What happened?”

“I don’t know,” he said, eyes darting around in thought. “Someone bombed the ship.”

For a moment, Y/N stared out into space, swallowing thickly before she stood.

“Milady,” Typho began, to which Padmé lifted her head, “We must get you somewhere safer.”

She nodded, standing up and taking a deep breath. Her composure was regained, and Y/N marveled at the speed to which she recovered from such a terrifying incident. She turned to Y/N, eyes determined.

“Y/N, send me all the necessary documents for the vote,” she paused, turning to Typho, “We shall go to my apartment.”

“Yes, milady,” Y/N answered. Typho then led Padmé from the room, Y/N immediately returning to her desk to get to work once again.

A few hours later, Y/N received a message from the Captain that she would be meeting with the Chancellor and would not be returning to the Senate today. Further, Y/N was to meet Padmé at her apartment to discuss a series of negotiation plans which Y/N had been organizing. Y/N was no stranger to working in the Senator’s apartment, having done so on many late nights when Padmé refused to get some rest. However, it had never been under such circumstances.

Later in the afternoon, Padmé’s team sent a transport for her along with a guard. Y/N thought it was overkill, as no one was after a random aide, but she didn’t make too much of a fuss about it. No one could stop Padmé from worrying about her team, especially after some of them likely died in the attack. As the transport flew through the busy city, Y/N peered out of the window, wondering who could have been behind the explosion. Padmé had many adversaries, though it surprised Y/N that any one of them would attempt to assassinate her. The Separatist movement had uprooted nearly every system, turning the Senate into more of a battle ground than ever before. Even so, war had not broken out yet, and all Y/N could do was hope that it wouldn’t resort to that.

Pulling up to the apartment, Y/N was escorted by the guard all the way up the glass turbolift, exposed to the city. Stepping in, she remembered the first time she had been called here, unable to pull her eyes away from the city growing smaller as she ascended.

As the turbolift doors opened, she immediately heard the happy voice of Jar Jar Binks. While she thought it strange for someone to be excited at a time like this, it was hard to tamper Jar Jar’s spirits. The guard led her into the apartment, where she saw Padmé sitting on one of the long sofas. She was clothed her usual fashion, hair in an updo, wearing a wide skirt dress with long flowing sleeves. Although Padmé looked good in almost anything, it was a small relief to see her back to her normal self. Captain Typho was standing a few feet away, with Dormé sitting beside Padmé. On the sofa opposite sat two men who Y/N instantly recognized as Jedi. Working for the Senate, Y/N had seen her fair share of Jedi over the years, though their presence usually didn’t bring good news. Of course, today wasn’t the day for good news anyhow.

Padmé stopped speaking, spotting Y/N as she walked into the room. She turned to smile at her, which Y/N returned easily. The other’s followed Padmé’s gaze, and Y/N grew a bit nervous at the attention. Her eyes went to the two Jedi, now given a clear view of their faces. The one sitting closest had short, cropped brown hair and the braid of a padawan falling across his shoulder. He appeared slightly annoyed, and Y/N wondered if she had intruded upon an important conversation she was not meant to be a part of. Her gaze drifted to the other Jedi, whose hair was on the longer side and a light copper in color. His beard was short and neatly trimmed, though there was still an air about him that was rugged, ever so slightly ruffled. After her brief first impression, the realization hit Y/N with a full, intense force. Her heart sped up significantly as she thought back to over ten years ago when she had met a Jedi at a nightclub.

Before Y/N could make any sort of reaction, Padmé stood, followed by the others.

“Y/N,” she said kindly, walking over to greet her.

“Senator,” Y/N said in return, bowing.

Jar Jar happily pranced over and shook Y/N’s hand, telling her it was nice to see her again. Y/N chuckled at his enthusiasm before turning back to Padmé.

“This is Master Obi-Wan Kenobi, and his padawn, Anakin Skywalker,” she introduced. Y/N was forced to look at the two Jedi, feeling heat rush up her spine and into her face. She had no idea if she should acknowledge that they knew each other, or pretend they were strangers. Obi-Wan reached out his hand to shake hers, a small, polite smile on his lips. She took it wearily, forcing herself to make eye contact. It was easier to shake the padawan’s hand, who only nodded at her.

Now that she was closer to Obi-Wan, she stole a look at him from the corner of her eye. He was just as handsome as he was when they first met, perhaps even more handsome. His face was not boyish as it had been, now more mature, his features stronger and more pronounced. The buzz that once existed all around him was settled, but not completely gone. Remnants of it remained in his eyes, which still held their playful shine. Suddenly, Y/N grew self conscious of her appearance. She was older than she had been, no longer the young girl she once was. It was hard for her to know how different she truly looked, as she had watched herself slowly age over many years. Her clothes as well were more mature, or rather refined. She realized that Obi-Wan had only seen her in her party clothes, never something professional, clean-cut, more simple. Her rapid thoughts were interrupted by Padmé, who went on to introduce her.

“This is Y/N L/N, my leading aide on Coruscant,” Padmé said. Obi-Wan let out a small laugh at her words, earning a confused look from Padmé. His laugh was a bit deeper than it was all those years ago, but it held the same lightness and ease.

“We’ve met,” he said, accent still smooth, “a long time ago.”

Y/N smiled sheepishly, knowing that Obi-Wan was looking at her face. Padmé appeared pleasantly surprised, Anakin raising his brows at his Master.

“You have?” Padmé asked, smiling at Y/N.

Y/N nodded, trying to think of what to say. Obi-Wan saved her, speaking before anyone could ask questions.

“I was still a padawan then,” Obi-Wan said, light hearted without giving anything away. Anakin looked suspiciously towards Y/N, but wiped his face quickly when she noticed.

“This is the day of reacquaintance,” Padmé said, pleased with the surprise. Y/N gave her a confused look, and she laughed a bit, realizing her mistake. “I met Master Kenobi and Anakin ten years ago, when I was Queen.”

Y/N nodded. “I see,” was all she could think to say.

“You must excuse us,” Padmé began, “We have much work to do.”

“It was lovely to meet you,” Y/N said to Anakin. She then looked to Obi-Wan, mind reeling. “And it’s nice to see you again.” She then left to follow Padmé and Dormé, cheeks burning.

Y/N spent the afternoon into the evening with Padmé and Dormé, going over documents and discussing her next moves. Y/N did most of the clerical work, leaving the politics to Padmé and Dormé, who knew the ins and outs. Although Y/N had picked up a lot, she still felt overwhelmed by the current climate and all its complexities. The whole time, she was hyper aware that Obi-Wan was in the other room, doing who knows what.

As the evening fell, Padmé excused Y/N, asking her to return tomorrow morning. She was thankful, as the eventful day had her tired, as surely Padmé was as well. At least she knew that Padmé would take it easy for the rest of the night, forgoing any further work until morning. Exiting the room, holopad in hand, Y/N saw Anakin and Obi-Wan talking on the balcony. She hoped they wouldn’t notice her, allowing her to slip out quietly, though the chances of this were likely slim. In all honesty, she had no idea how she would handle being so close to Obi-Wan for the foreseeable future, unable to acknowledge the circumstance of their last meeting and pretending as if they hadn’t gone on a romantic escapade.

Perhaps feeling her eyes upon his back, Anakin turned, catching Y/N staring. To her surprise, he gave her a small smile, which she anxiously returned before whipping her head forward. She walked quickly to the turbolift, hoping that somehow Obi-Wan would remain ignorant of her growing uncertainty.

Her alarm blared and she hastily reached over to turn off the cacophony of noise. She laid in bed for a quiet moment, still groggy but remembering the events of the day prior. She groaned upon the realization that she’d be forced to face Obi-Wan, all with the intent not to embarrass herself. She envied his even manner which gave nothing away, not letting anyone know of their odd history. As she pondered over this, she felt a pang in her heart at the thought that Obi-Wan was completely unaffected by her presence. Yes, Y/N had a series of relationships since her single, solitary kiss with Obi-Wan, but that didn’t take away from the fact that she was entirely unprepared to ever see him again. Until now, Obi-Wan was a fleeting yet meaningful moment in her life, one which Y/N would look back on every once in a while with an immature sadness. The thought of him, someone who was so kind, so bright, so considerate, unable to form any romantic attachments, was poignant to say the least. When this kind of thinking arose, she’d kick herself for giving it the time of day. You only met him once, you only kissed once, what's the big deal?

Y/N got ready for the day with the intent of forgetting about Obi-Wan, focusing on the far more pressing matters. Today would likely consist of setting up calls with many different Senators, some of which would want to discuss the recent attack, others who would simply want to argue about the motion to create an army. Further, Y/N had no clue how long Senator Amidala would stay on-planet, so she would have to get to organizing all she could before she was off somewhere else. As she brushed her teeth, Y/N stared at her reflection in the mirror, paying far too much attention to how she looked. Just as she had sworn off thinking about Obi-Wan, the image of herself brought back feelings of insecurity. She couldn’t stop herself from wondering what Obi-Wan thought when he first saw her again, thinking that perhaps his placidity came from the fact that he no longer found her attractive. Although she tried to brush the thought of him away, she didn’t stop herself from putting on her best work-appropriate outfit.

In a kind gesture, Padmé sent a speeder to pick Y/N up from her apartment, again accompanied by a guard. She made small talk with him on the way to Padmé’s in an aim to calm her nerves, which despite all her efforts still bubbled beneath the surface. When Y/N arrived, she saw Padmé and Dormé sitting opposite each other in the seating area, multiple holopads and projections on the table between them. Off to the side, Obi-Wan and Anakin stood, Anakin seeming on guard and brewing with energy. Padmé looked up from her work, waving Y/N over to sit with them.

“There was another attack,” Padmé said, voice even and calculated, “I’m leaving for Naboo tomorrow.”

“Why not today, milady?” Y/N asked, full of concern.

“I must leave on an unregistered transport, it will take some time to organize,” Padmé explained. Seeing Y/N’s worries, she placed a hand on her shoulder for reassurance. “I will be alright, Anakin will be with me.”

Y/N nodded, feeling a bit better. She wondered why Obi-Wan would not be joining her, though didn’t ask.

“In the meantime, we must get as much done as we can. I doubt I will be able to work much in hiding.”

With that, they all got to work. Y/N was mostly silent, leaving Dormé and Padmé to talk over the majority of her decisions. Padmé received a warm call from Senator Organa, who extended any help to her that he could offer. Y/N never had the chance to work under him, though she expected it would be much like working for Padmé. To Y/N, they seemed to be the only two honest and truly kind politicians in the galaxy, setting them in stark contrast to the increasingly unscrupulous nature of the Senate at large. Amidst the growing chaos, Y/N hardly paid attention to the two Jedi guarding the apartment.

Some time that morning, Padmé decided to move to a different room which housed a large table so that they could spread out more. Y/N was off to the side, plugging away as usual, happy that her responsibilities seemed mild in comparison to Padmé and Dormé’s.

Y/N hadn’t even noticed that they had worked well into midday, brought up from her work when Dormé suggested they break for a short lunch. They were all left with a little free time, as it would take a bit for the chef to prepare their meals. That was one thing Y/N loved about working at Padmé’s apartment; the chef. Padmé and Dormé left the room as Y/N finished the last few sentences of her address to another Senatorial aide, sighed deeply as she sent it along.

Walking into the main living space, she found Padmé standing beside one of the long floor to ceiling windows speaking to Anakin. Padmé’s smile was calm, and for the first time in a while she seemed genuinely relieved. If Y/N didn't know better, it looked as though Padmé and Anakin were close, long time friends, used to seeing one another. Her eyes were taken away from the pair, drifting to Obi-Wan who was pouring over something on his holopad. He too appeared incredibly natural, though tense in the shoulders. If it weren’t for his robes, he could've been just another aide hard at work.

Y/N lazily walked over to the balcony, pushing open the large glass doors and feeling the cool air of Coruscant brush against her face. She sighed with contentment, taking in the view of the city from such a great height. It wasn’t often that she was so high like this, nearly above the clouds. It was as close to peaceful as she’s had in a while, not since her last visit to Corellia several years ago. A few minutes passed, Y/N’s mind wandering to the various tasks which still needed to be done before Padmé left for Naboo.

She was interrupted by the sound of the door opening behind her. She glanced back, expecting to see Dormé or perhaps Padmé, only to find that it was Obi-Wan. Her heart rate picked up as she took in his regal appearance, robes tidy and neatly tucked. He smiled softly as if to ask permission to join her. She returned it the best she could, trying to push her nerves down. He came up beside her near the railing and looked out, sighing to himself. Y/N couldn’t bring herself to peek at him, fearful that her emotions would too clearly show upon her face.

“I’m glad to see you working in the profession you wanted,” Obi-Wan said, voice abundantly friendly, yet somewhat professional in nature. Y/N bravely glanced at him with a kind expression, genuinely pleased that he remembered.

“Yes, I am too,” she paused, realizing that unlike before, it wouldn’t be awkward to mention his profession. “And now you’re a Master, with a padawan of your own. Congratulations,” she said honestly.

He chuckled, “Thank you.” Obi-Wan shifted his weight to one foot, turning to look at her profile. “Truly, I am pleased to see you again.”

“I’m a bit surprised you remembered me,” she let slip, growing a bit more comfortable with the exchange. Her teasing earned another small chuckle from him.

“I don’t easily forget,” was all he said in return, leaning an elbow on the railing.

Y/N fully turned towards him, met with the same face she saw that night in the club as they both stood at the bar. Now, his jaw was partially obscured by a beard. She thought it suited him, as did his longer hair. She wanted to tell him so, but decided against it, not wanting to break what felt like a fragile moment.

“I’ve since visited Corellia,” Obi-Wan began again, tone still light.

Y/N smiled at him, brows slightly raised. “You did?”

“Yes, though as you might expect, I was occupied most of the time. However, it did not disappoint.”

Y/N realized he was very much still the same, though perhaps more subtle in his cheekiness.

“I’ve been back as well, though only a few times. It’s still as boring as I remembered,” she joked.

“Now, I am sure you are longing for boredom as well.”

Something electric shot through her with his words, reminding her more and more of that night. It appeared as though Obi-Wan did not lie; he does not easily forget. A small seed of innocent, foolish hope made its way into her heart. Had he thought about me since then, as I did him? She quickly reprimanded herself, shaking her head to clear the thought away.

“You’re right,” she sighed, “For the Senator’s sake rather than mine.”

Obi-Wan paused, not replying for a moment. Y/N couldn’t stop herself from wondering what was going on inside his mind, which puzzle pieces he was trying to fit together. She had no clue who was attempting to assassinate Padmé, too many possibilities floating around to grasp. However, she was sure Obi-Wan had a much better idea than herself.

“It’s a tricky business we both are in, though all things important are difficult.”

Once again, she was infatuated with his wisdom, which had only grown.

“I bet you are a wonderful master to Anakin.”

He took the compliment well, not as bashful as he once was. “Thank you, Y/N,” he said her name warmly, resurfacing a slurry of emotions she didn’t know still existed. All at once she felt ten years younger, enraptured with her name said in his accent, in his voice.

“I mean it, really. I could hardly imagine trying to lead someone, teach them what I know. The whole thought of it makes me feel like I know nothing,” she was letting more and more of her feelings slip, far more than she originally intended. This morning, she had vowed to be wholly professional, to focus on the job she had to do, not to get caught up in buried emotions. However, there was something about Obi-Wan’s presence that made her too free with her words. It was the same way over ten years ago, where she found herself spilling her guts to an almost stranger. If he stuck around any longer, one of these days she might just get herself into real trouble.

“I’m sure you could, if given the chance. It takes courage to come to a new place, to build a new life. That is something you know far more about than I.” There he went again, melting her from the inside out.

“Perhaps, and I��d have to bet I’d beat you in a typing contest,” she jested.

Obi-Wan let out a hearty laugh, unconstricted and full, “I believe you are right.”

The conversation lulled, with Y/N unsure what to say. Her guards were still up, despite the fact that they were steadily lowering against her will. She wondered how much she could get away with addressing, which facts were off limits and which were okay to mention. Obi-Wan seemed to be perfectly comfortable with speaking about everything but the kiss, though she didn’t want to push her luck.

She settled on something simple, something pertaining to the here and now. “I’m happy Anakin will accompany the Senator, I’m sure she will be safe in his presence.”

Obi-Wan nodded slowly, glancing down for a moment. “His eagerness often worries me, though it may serve him well with his task,” Obi-Wan said.

“A product of youth,” she commented, amused at the thought of Obi-Wan having to deal with the antics of a young man. She thought that perhaps once, Obi-Wan had done the same to his Master.

“Unavoidable, I’m afraid,” Obi-Wan replied effortlessly, turning to look at her face once again. She felt bare under his gaze, as if he could see through her every shield, each mask she wore.

“I’m sure with your guidance he will grow into an exemplary Jedi. I don’t think you could mold him into anything less.” Her flattery was not lost on Obi-Wan, whose ardent smile felt like a flowering bruise, a reminder of his oxymoronic, sweet rejection.

“Your faith in me surpasses that of myself,” he retorted frivolously, making Y/N chuckle. After a pause, Obi-Wan spoke again, “How long have you worked for Senator Amidala?”

Y/N thought for a moment, adding up the years in her head. “About four years now. I hope to work for her as long as she’ll let me. She is by far the kindest boss I’ve ever had,” she laughed a bit with the thought of begging Padmé to let her stay, offering to do anything but go back to working with the other Senators.

Obi-Wan smiled to himself, eyes darting around the skyline. “She is a rarity, no doubt.”

“I’m sure you have worked with a fair few Senators. You must know how…difficult they can be.”

Obi-Wan chuckled with a sigh, seeming surprised by her admission. “Yes, I know what you mean.”

Without thinking, Y/N said what was on her mind, letting it pass through her filters as if it were a smuggler, “I’m glad you have not lost your sense of humor.”

“I need it to deal with Anakin,” he joked, now his turn to surprise Y/N.

She couldn’t stop herself from giggling girlishly, placing a hand over her mouth. She glanced at him from the corner of her eye, seeing a mildly devilish look on his face.

“Your sharp tongue must get you into trouble sometimes,” she teased, pushing the limits a bit further.

Obi-Wan tilted his head a bit, shrugging slightly. “It only appears amongst friends.”

Friends. The word danced around her head, bouncing all the way to her chest, pulsing against her heartbeat. She thought that perhaps he was humoring her, throwing her a bone. He couldn’t possibly think of her as a friend, could he? Technically, they’ve only known each other a total of three days, which was far too soon to be friends. Acquaintances, yes. Friends? No. While Y/N struggled with the idea that he might just be indulging her, she was suddenly reminded of a detail of their first encounter, one which she played over and over in her head the days following: I should not have allowed myself such an indulgence.

Obi-Wan glanced back through the glass door, then back to Y/N, who didn’t notice his staring. “Do you still see those whom I met that night?” he asked.

It took a second for Y/N to understand what he meant, remembering he probably never got their names. “Oh, yes, I do. Well, some of them. I still see Ripp, whose father owned the club.”

Obi-Wan nodded, chuckling to himself, “They seemed like a lively bunch.”

Y/N laughed, thinking back to the times they had together while in school. “Yes, they were. Thankfully, we are all doing quite well for ourselves now.”

“I’d say so,” Obi-Wan said genuinely, eyes soft.

Y/N looked down, unable to meet his gaze. “Did you ever find that man?”

“I believe we did,” it sounded almost like a question, as if he wasn’t quite sure.

Y/N wanted to comment on the fact that he had told her he doesn’t forget things, but thought that it might come out wrong. Instead, she focused on the vast expanse of skyscrapers and traffic in front of her. She could sense Obi-Wan looking at her profile, resurfacing her nerves.

“You have not lost your wonder,” he said gently, almost a whisper. Suddenly, she could not stop herself from looking at him, met with his tender expression. His words confused her, throwing her off the delicate footing she had found herself on. Her mind raced with endless possibilities, attempting to decide what he expected her to do, what he wanted her to say in return.

With her breath caught in her throat, she said the only thing that came to mind, “Neither have you.”

He smiled, the kind of smile that seemed too intimate for their odd relationship. Y/N felt honored to have been on the receiving end of such a smile, especially from Obi-Wan. The gesture made her weak, pathetically chasing another look like that, completely insatiable. Amending her earlier thought, Y/N decided that if he stuck around, her truthfulness would not be the only thing to get her in trouble. It seemed as though there were a million things Obi-Wan could get her to do or say with a simple look towards her or a single suggestion. It wasn’t because he was charming or persuasive, or even because he was handsome. No, it was because he listened to her so intently, spoke to her so kindly, and seemed to remember insignificant details from a night which occurred so long ago.

Y/N fought the urge to reach out and touch this cheek, or at least his arm. She yearned to feel something which solidified his presence in front of her, anything to tell her he was real and not a ghost conjured up from her memory. His eyes would have to do for now, sparkling against the midday light, so beautiful Y/N couldn’t possibly have dreamt them.

“I envy your opinion of me,” Obi-Wan said, still soft but with an air of jest, “But I feel you may be wrong.”

She shook her head instantly, bewildered by his statement. She wondered how he could possibly think that about himself, while at the same time saying such kind things about herself.

He laughed quietly, taking his eyes from her. Mourning the loss of their clear blue color, Y/N stayed staring at face, wanting to soak up every second she had with him on the balcony, where everything seemed simple.

“I don’t believe that for a second,” she countered.

He glanced at her with a playful smirk. “For a moment I thought you had grown a bit more shy, but I see that I was wrong.”

She chuckled, feeling embarrassed by his words. Her whole body was burning hot, despite the high altitude breeze that came whipping past.

“I’ve just learned when to hold my tongue,” she joked, relaxing a bit as the intensity of the moment began to lift.

“I only wish Anakn had your skills,” he sounded serious, but Y/N could tell he was joking by his upturned lips and the crinkle on the corners of his eyes. His sarcasm was new, though it did not feel unnatural, for his wit had always been sharp as a blade. Y/N giggled to herself, thinking of Obi-Wan talking to his padawan, pestering him with father-like nagging.

“Something amusing?” Obi-Wan teased, though played it off as if it was a genuine question.

She shook her head. “No, no,” she faltered for a moment, chuckling to herself, “Are all Jedi as funny as you?”

Obi-Wan sighed as if to think it over, “Perhaps, if you get to know them.” As Y/N was beginning to get caught up in his hidden meaning, he spoke again, “Are all Senatorial aides as diligent as yourself?”

His question caught her a bit off guard, and she wondered if he had peeked into the room and seen her working. The idea sent butterflies soaring in her belly.

“No,” she laughed, “But it’s easy to be devoted when Senator Amidala is leading you.”

“You think quite highly of her,” Obi-Wan said a bit curiously.

“Yes,” she answered without thought, “I do.”

“I know how much of a gift it can be to be led by such an admirable example,” Obi-Wan said, voice a bit far off.

“You’re thinking of your master?” she asked hesitantly, hoping not to overstep her bounds. Obi-Wan nodded, though his smile had faded. His eyes, too, were not as bright as they were before. “I’m sorry, if you don’t want to talk about it-” she rambled, fearing the worst.

Obi-Wan gave her a sad smile, but his face soon turned neutral. “It’s quite alright. He died many years ago,” he confessed. Y/N felt a devastating privilege to have received such an admission, surprised that he gave it so freely.

“Oh,” she said without thinking, “I’m so sorry, Obi-Wan. I didn’t know.”

“How could you,” he said, unperturbed, the sadness on his face all but washed away. She wondered where he got his resilience, so that she could get some for herself.

“He was a good man, and a fine Jedi,” Obi-Wan began again, sounding as if he was speaking only to himself. Y/N clung to every word, hanging on tightly to anything he chose to tell her. “Though he was a bit more like Anakin than myself.”

Y/N smiled, which soon turned into a grin when Obi-Wan gave her a mischievous sideways glance. “Just think of it as practice.”

“Yes,” he chuckled, pausing for a moment, “I was lucky to have him, as I am lucky to have Anakin as my padawan,” his tone was deeply warm and full of love.

Y/N couldn’t believe that he so readily told her about his life in this way, how openly he shared small, intimate details. While his words alone were not particularly notable, the way he said them told her that he was bearing little pieces of his innermost world. She wondered how many people were lucky enough to see him like this, punishing herself for assuming that she was special in some way. Perhaps he was always this open, this unfettered in conversation. Regardless, she craved a deeper look, even if it was just a peek like a sliver of light coming through a slightly open door.

After her internal gushing over Obi-Wan’s divulgence, she noticed him looking somewhat hesitant. It was the first time he faltered since their reintroduction, his expression seeming foreign and unlike his usual self, although Y/N couldn’t deny that she wasn’t the leading expert on the matter. She cocked her head, flashing him a confused look.

“What?” she asked, clueless as to what he was thinking.

He looked down reticently, quickly bringing his eyes back to hers without any shyness. “Do you have children of your own?” he said it innocently, as if he wasn’t nervous at all.

Thinking perhaps she had misread his expression, Y/N laughed a bit at the question, “No, I do not.”

“Then you are free of that particular headache,” he chuckled, and Y/N laughed along.

“I can barely take care of myself,” she joked.

“You doubt yourself far too often,” Obi-Wan paused, watching her face, “and ignore how far you have come.”

His kindness spread through her like the tranquil waters of Corellia she used to swim in during the summer months, waves falling in a steady ebb and flow. She sighed, staring at her hands which rested on the railing. What could she possibly say to him, what words could express what she felt while also concealing the attraction which had begun to float to the surface?

Before she could think of a reply, Dormé opened the door, causing each of them to turn.

“Our meal is ready,” she said with a small smile.

“Thank you, Dormé,” Y/N replied, heading back into the apartment with Obi-Wan following behind. Padmé was already sitting at the table, along with Anakin. Y/N and Dormé sat down opposite the pair.

“Join us, Obi-Wan,” Padmé offered.

Obi-Wan looked a bit hesitant. “I’ll keep guard, milady,” he said, walking over to the entrance near the turbolift.

“Captain Typho is on watch,” Padmé insisted, “Please, come eat.”

Obi-Wan sighed, giving in quickly to Padmé’s request. He took a seat beside Anakin, directly in front of Y/N. She grew a bit nervous, forced to face him directly, but her attention was diverted as the meals were placed on the table.

“So, how did you two meet?” Padmé asked Obi-Wan and Y/N, beginning to tuck into her food. Y/N should have known the question was coming, but she was a bit bewildered nonetheless. Her mouth opened to answer, but she was at a loss for words.

“I was on a small mission here in Coruscant,” Obi-Wan began cooly, “Y/N was kind enough to offer a bit of help.”

Anakin smirked to himself as Padmé looked towards Y/N, unaware that she was currently fighting off jitters. Y/N nodded, knowing that she should speak.

“He was looking for someone, but I was no help,” she said in an even tone, picking at her meal.

“Surely something must have happened,” Anakin commented, a bit of mockery in his voice, “How else would you remember each other?”

Obi-Wan smiled, completely nonchalant. Y/N was left wondering how nervous she truly looked, hoping she was playing it as well as Obi-Wan, but seriously doubting her abilities.

“If I am remembering correctly, a friend of yours knew the man that I was searching for,” he answered, taking a bite.

“Yes,” she said with a breath, regaining her composure, “His father had kicked him out of the club some time before.”

“The club?” Anakin asked with a raised brow, a smirk playing upon his lips. Realizing her mistake, Y/N felt heat creep up her cheeks. Padmé laughed a bit, though Y/N could not tell if it was due to her reaction or Anakins.

“Yes, Anakin,” Obi-Wan clipped, side-eyeing his padawan, “You’re no stranger to them.”

Obi-Wan’s jab did not seem to affect Anakin, who looked rather pleased with himself. Y/N focused on her food, not wanting to face the eyes which were surly looking at her. Normally, she wouldn’t be embarrassed if people knew she went to clubs, especially in her younger years. However, there was something off about mentioning it in front of a Senator and two Jedi. It felt as though she had admitted to committing a strange sort of crime.

“What an odd string of fate,” Padmé said pleasantly, smiling at the others. “It is not often that we are reunited with such fleeting acquaintanceships in a city this large.”

“You are right, milady,” Obi-Wan said, seemingly unbothered by the whole ordeal.

“Yes, it is quite funny,” Y/N forced herself to say, fearing that her silence may enact suspicion.

Thankfully, no one brought it up for the rest of the meal. At first they discussed politics, though soon Obi-Wan went on to share a few stories of missions he and Anakin had gone on over the years. Y/N listened with interest, holding onto every word. Obi-Wan was an excellent storyteller, she realized, finding herself content just to hear his voice. When the meal was finished, Padmé and Dormé went to discuss the details of the plan with Obi-Wan, excusing themselves to speak privately in another room. Y/N was left with Anakin, who was to keep watch while Obi-Wan was occupied.

With her holopad in the other room, Y/N was left to kill time on her own. She walked over to the large windows, watching the speeders fly past, criss-crossing lanes along the skyline. She soon began to worry about Padmé, wishing that whoever was behind the attacks would somehow slip up and reveal themselves. It was a futile hope, but there was nothing else she could do. So deep in thought, she did not hear Anakin coming up to stand beside her.

His voice came without warning, “I have a feeling there is more to you than meets the eye.”

She jumped, placing a hand on her chest as her head whipped around to see him. He chuckled at her unease, and she gave him a weary smile. However, it soon left when she processed his words.

“What do you mean?” she asked, still a bit fretful from the scare.

He let out a slow chuckle, looking out the window instead of at her. “I know my master well, better than most. Which means I know when he is concealing the truth.”

She inhaled shakily, her hands coming together, fingers winding around with nervousness. Something in her face or tone must have slipped during lunch, letting Anakin in on her secret. She bit her lip, wondering what to say and how to deny it.

He smirked, eyeing her steadily. “Something else happened.”

She shook her head, deciding to act as if she had no clue what he was talking about. “No, it really is as simple as what he said.”

Anakin laughed again, “You are a terrible liar.”

She wanted to groan, knowing it was fruitless to play ignorant. She decided on a new game plan: tell him as little as it takes to satisfy his curiosity.

“Fine,” she surrendered, wavering a bit, “I bought him a drink. A single drink.”

Anakin stared at her, spurring her on. As she gave her a resolute look back, he raised his brows. “You know I know that's not all.”

She faltered, feeling his provocation pulling her towards his will. Unwisely, she had thought her admission would be enough for him.

“I promise not to tell my Master,” he offered.

After a long pause, she gave in, knowing he would not easily let the matter go. “We got talking, just small talk. I asked him if he’d ever been around Coruscant while he’s not working, and he said no, and I…” she trailed off, scared that she would reveal too much if she went any further.

Anakin’s eyes lit at the confession, and he let out a happy sigh. “You see, I knew my Master wasn’t as good of a padawan as he says he was,” he laughed, “He’s probably reeling, worrying that I would find out.”

She shot him an angry look, afraid that he would tell Obi-Wan of her indiscretion. Anakin rolled his eyes, waving a hand in her direction.

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to tell, even though I want to,” he drawled, looking proud that he had gotten the secret from her. He crossed his arms over his chest, standing tall. Y/N would have been infuriated if her embarrassment wasn’t so strong. While Y/N overthought their interaction, running it over in her head until the words sounded foreign, Anakin strolled off as if nothing had happened.

She was left a bit stunned until Padmé, Dormé, and Obi-Wan emerged from the room. Obi-Wan went over to Anakin, telling him that he would have to leave. He sounded quite urgent, but his composure did not waiver. Anakin only nodded, and with that Obi-Wan left without a goodbye. Usually so polite, Y/N guessed that the matter likely pertained to the assassination attempts, which had doubled over the course of a single day.

Padmé walked over to Y/N, calm and collected as she always was.

“Y/N, you are free to go back to the Senate,” her voice was tenacious, strong-willed as always.

Y/N nodded. “Yes, milady. Would you be needing anything else from me before I leave?”

“No, that's alright,” Padmé answered with a smile, “I’m not sure when I will be in contact with you next, so give all messages to Jar Jar, who will be representing me in my absence.”

Y/N bowed, going over to her workspace to collect her things. She had a feeling Padmé would be getting ready to depart tomorrow, and it was safer for her to have Y/N know as little as possible. She was already a bit surprised they let her know that Padmé would be leaving Coruscant, though she had been working with her for some time. Y/N was warmed by the thought that the Senator trusted her so much, feeling a bit proud of the work she had done thus far.

Y/N returned to the Senate to get the rest of her work completed, not even realizing that she might never see Obi-Wan again until the end of the day. When the thought came, a wave of sadness drifted all around her, especially since she hadn’t had the chance to say goodbye. In spite of all her efforts, she felt the same as she did over a decade ago, sitting on the bench in the Plaza as Obi-Wan faded into the crowd. It was stupid, foolish, and entirely immature, but her mind could not release its hook from their conversation on the balcony. She went over every word, every expression, each twitch of the lips. Instead of pushing the memory away as she should, she held it tighter, embracing it with open arms. It only appears amongst friends. You have not lost your wonder. You doubt yourself far too often, and ignore how far you have come. I don’t easily forget, I don’t easily forget, I don’t easily forget. It was if his words were echoing around the empty office, fading out into space only to begin once more. The letters rolled on top of each other, spinning into a melodious song sung in his pleasant voice.

As she left work, she walked slowly down the wide corridors of the Senate building, arms limp at her sides. A haze of melancholy enveloped every step, dulling the click of her shoes against the polished stone floor. During the taxi ride home, she looked out of the window like she always did, following the lines of the buildings with her eyes, locking onto a particular point until it was lost in her peripheral. The noise of the city outside was dulled in her ears, as if she was listening underwater. She thought of Obi-Wan, his copper hair, his aquamarine eyes, then dismissed it, back and forth into oblivion. She told herself it was not by fate that they met again, that his words were simply friendly and meant nothing, though her efforts were in vain. Every irrational bone in her body overpowered her feeble attempts to break them or expose their falsehoods. It was a losing battle, so she pushed it off as best she could, telling the soldiers it could wait until morning.

Her head pounded to the beat of the alarm clock like a punishment for the day before. Turning off the vexatious beeping, she headed straight for the ‘fresher to take some pills for the pain. She shook her head at herself in the mirror, tsking her half-witted hope that somehow Obi-Wan would fall for her again. Even if he did happen to feel the same, he was older now, not so impulsive. He’d never let the past repeat itself. Y/N had to remind herself that she was an adult now too, that she would have to get over her childish infatuation and move on. It wasn’t as if she’d never dated anyone since then. They were never quite like him, though.

In order to regain some sense of normalcy, she went about her routine in the same way she always did. When it was time to dress, she found herself staring into her closet at all the clothes she had hanging there, her nice outfit piled in the hamper. She chuckled at her ridiculous decision to wear what she did the day before, somehow thinking that it was important to look nice for a man she could never have.

The taxi ride to the Senate was longer than usual, traffic congested but thankfully never completely stalled. It was only a few hours into the day and already it was turning out awful, though Y/N’s patience was thin to start out with. Unlike the previous evening, she walked quickly through the Senate to her office, giving the people she passed a cordial, but somewhat frigid smile. She didn’t know if she’d be able to get through the pleasantries of “how are you?” or “nice to see you again”, thinking it better just to get to her office and hole up there until she was ready to go back home. On the bright side, today her mind would remain busy with work, unable to muse over other things.

Only a few people popped into the office that morning, mostly for a quick word and nothing more. It was a blessing that everyone was incredibly swamped as well, unable to take any down time to chat. Every once in a while, when Y/N wondered if Padmé was off planet yet, or something came in mentioning the assassination, she was practically forced into thinking about Obi-Wan. With how much he was likely occupied, she thought it would be highly improbable that he was thinking of her at all, even in passing. His work was important, far more important than her own, demanding diligent, careful attention. Despite these small reminders of him, they did not stick around like they had last night, remaining fleeting and pulled from her mind when she looked back at her holopad.

It was the afternoon, the sun over its peak, slowly descending over the city. A ray shined through the curtainless window, specks of dust revealed in the air which looked almost like falling snow. Deep in thought, Y/N jumped as the door wooshed open, her head shooting up from the holopad. As she looked at the door, her breath caught in her throat, making it feel as though she had forgotten how to breathe. There in her office, Obi-Wan was standing, his brown robe skimming the floor, eyes wide as if he was surprised by his own entrance. Y/N stood abruptly, her chair pushing out behind her and bumping the wall.

“Obi-Wan,” she said in shock, or perhaps as a question. He took a step into the room, then went to take another, though stopped in his tracks.

“Y/N, I,” he paused, swallowing, “I never got a chance to say goodbye. I’m leaving now, and I am unsure as to when I will return.”

“Oh,” was all she could muster, still paralyzed and unmoving.

He looked down for a moment, hands clasped together. “It’s been a pleasure,” he said with a small smile. She didn’t return it, still too stunned to do anything but stare at him. Obi-Wan promptly turned and left, the door closing behind him.

She just stood there, her thoughts a thousand miles high. She questioned if Obi-Wan had really just come into the office or if it was a figment of her imagination, created by her night-long mulling over of the day before. Her breaths remained shallow as her thoughts caught up to themselves, their summersaults ending with a finale of fireworks erupting between her ears. She was baffled by his entrance, completely unaware of his motives. Gradually, all else dropped away but her need to find Obi-Wan, to ask him if had really come back only to say goodbye, or if he had something else to say. Her mind willed her legs to move, but they stayed still, frozen in time.

“Come on,” she whispered to herself, not hearing her own voice, “run.”

With that her body finally obeyed, and she rushed to the door, huffing as she pressed the button to open it. Her feet carried her flying down the hall, not noticing the people who stopped to stare at her along the way. She skirted around every corner, the white walls and metal doors a single blur like the swipe of a wide paintbrush. When she came upon the exit to the landing platforms, it was as if the wide door was encased in the glowing light of a new sun, calling her to come through to the other side. Thankfully, the door was motion censored, saving her the precious few seconds that would be needed to open it. As she emerged, the sun shined in her eyes, and she placed a hand on her forehead as a shield. Frantically, she looked around for Obi-Wan, scanning every ship for movement, only to find every ship near to her vacant.

In the distance, she saw the loading ramp of a ship descend, euphoric at the sight of Obi-Wan’s brown robe. She began running towards him, sprinting faster as she saw him beginning to board. Fearing that she would be too late, she called out his name. Obi-Wan's face was hidden within the ship, though she could see him stop. He looked down and saw her, though Y/N wasn’t close enough to tell the details of his expression. As she neared, the realization of what she was doing set in, bringing about a wave of uncertainty. However, it washed away when she saw Obi-Wan’s face.

She stood at the base of the ramp, panting from her impromptu workout. She locked her eyes with Obi-Wan’s, which were soft, brilliantly gleaming as they stared across her face. Her once racing mind was all but empty, filled only with the serene happiness of having caught Obi-Wan before he took off. Neither she or Obi-Wan said a word, though he smiled thoughtfully like he had a secret. Stars, he must think I’m some kind of crazy person.

Despite her lack of shame or uneasiness, she fumbled with her words, not knowing how to express what she wanted to.

“I,” she began, a doting smile beginning to peek through, “I feel like this is completely foolish,” she paused, bringing her hands up to her face for a moment, “Stars, I just can’t let you leave without telling you.”

“Tell me what?” he murmured, his smile growing slightly more noticeable.

Her gaze drifted from his, overwhelmed by her boiling face and heart which was beating so fast she ought to be concerned. Even though she had thought about doing this all last night, running over what she would say and what she would do, the reality of it was unfamiliar territory. She was flying blind, attempting to find anything that could point her in the right direction.

Finding a bit of courage left, she glanced back into her eyes, crystal blue and clear. Within them she saw something new, the knowledge of what he was thinking in this very moment. Without another word or thought, she leapt up the ramp towards him, following all the instincts she had at her disposal. Throwing her arms around his neck, she crashed her lips to his, a sparkling fuzz running down her spine and into her limbs. Much differently than last time, Obi-Wan did not hesitate to return her kiss, falling into it along with her. He held her body to his, pulling her a bit off of the floor and fully into his embrace. Their lips moved as if they had kissed a thousand times, synchronized in each other's affection. She felt the tickle of his beard against her cheek, his hands gripping her waist tighter as she gasped.

Breathless, she pulled away, only enough to suck in a gulp of much needed hair. Obi-Wan did the same, breath uneven and shaky as if he had just been in battle. Y/N stared into his eyes, watching as their surprise settled into something else, something tender. A blush had formed upon his cheeks, peeking out from his beard and dotting across his nose. The rush in her ears was gone, replaced by the low hum of the ship and the soft sound of her hands upon his robes. She held him tighter, dreading the moment when she would finally have to let go.

“Will I see you later?” she asked, not bothering to disguise her pleading and desperate tone. She didn’t know what she was expecting him to do, but his wide grin pleasantly surprised her.

“Yes,” he said with a long exhale, studying her face. She grew warm with the attention, even though they had just done much more than look at each other. Something about his gaze was always so intense, more passionate than she could easily handle. It was as if flustering her came naturally to him, like he was born to make her shy.

Finally, he slowly set her down, and she relaxed her beskar-like grip she had on his shoulders. Her hands settled on his chest briefly before falling down at her sides, already missing his touch. She was unsure what to say, but as usual, Obi-Wan was not at a similar loss for words.

“Perhaps it is the absence, but you’ve grown even more beautiful,” the fondness of his voice did not escape her, bringing about a buzzing feeling in her stomach.

She felt her knees nearly buckle, growing impossibly weak at his words. With them, all her fears and worries about herself subsided, and she felt like the most beautiful person in the galaxy. Forcing herself not to look down at her feet, she gave Obi-Wan a sickly sweet smile, agonized by how much she cared for him in so little time. He was smiling as well, pleased by her total disarmament. She longed to tell him how handsome he was, how well he had grown into himself, but she felt the time quickly slipping away. Knowing he needed to leave soon, she stepped back, still grinning ear to ear. She bit her lip, giddy with the reemergence of her clandestine romance, now with the promise that Obi-Wan wasn’t gone for good.

“Be safe,” she said softly, making her way partly down the ramp. Obi-Wan chuckled, looking self assured as he stood in the entrance of his ship.

“I always am,” he answered, voice smooth and warm like Gatalentian tea.

Mustering up every bit of her willpower she had, Y/N turned and walked down the ramp and into the landing platform. The ramp closed behind her, and she rushed off near the entrance of the Senate building. She watched as the ship powered up, rising into the air before zooming away all too quickly. It was bitter to watch him leave, though their parting felt parsecs different than the last time. From all she knew about him, Obi-Wan was not in the habit of lying, and her chances of seeing him again were close to certain. With his ship out of sight, Y/N dreamily walked back into the Senate, feeling light as a feather.

#obi wan x reader #obi wan/reader #star wars x reader #Obi Wan Kenobi x reader #star wars prequels #Obi Wan Kenobi/reader #star wars fluff #obi wan fanfiction #star wars imagine #star wars fanfiction

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moodymisty · 5 months

Note

Alright I gotta represent for us in the Rogal Dorn Simp Nation, Misty! This idea fell directly on my head from my old history nerd childhood, we’ve got stories of queens holding down the fort and being badass while the king is away so why not let the lady of the House of Dorn and the Imperial Fists kick some ass??? Dorn’s off doing y’know crusade shit etc etc and gets a frantic vox hail from Inwit (or whatever fortress world she was on) that they’re under attack. Luckily he’s done with whatever his assignment was or has somebody he can trust and leave it to so he can flip Phalanx in reverse and hop back to make sure nothing goes wrong. Only to find his beloved commanding the standing force of guardsmen and marines, not just holding it down but WINNING. On the outside he’s his usual stoic self like “psh yes of course I wasn’t worried, I never worry, this is something I expect her to be able to handle. I am proud tho” but internally he’s like “oh no this is hot” XD. Indomitable warrior queen decked out in armor he probably commissioned for her (always gotta be prepared) making battle plans and laying the verbal smack down on any captains or commissars who are questioning the competency of somebody ROGAL GODDAMN DORN chose to be with. Yeah I think that’d do a whole lot for him 😂

Having soft moments of reflection on his humanity matched against his beloved’s is delicious of course but so is meeting him where HE’S at, seeing how loving him and learning about him would change somebody. And getting to commit some grand old grimdark 40k VIOLENCE is always fun lol

[ 𝕸𝖔𝖔𝖉𝖞𝕸𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖞'𝖘 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 | 𝕬𝖔3 ]

Author's Note: We are on the front lines for Wall Husband I will go down with this ship. Boring this bland that fuck everyone else we're right I'm stacking bricks around them

Summary: Stuck in a violent snowstorm on an Imperial Fist controlled planet being sieged, you take command for the first time while waiting for Dorn.

Relationships: Rogal Dorn/Fem!Reader

Warnings: Dorn is your future husband and Alexis Polux is your battle husband it's like a work husband but much more violent, Mentions of battle and death, Typical 40kness, I think I blacked out while writing this I'm sorry

Word Count: 2566

You had known from the very beginning of your courtship that Dorn had wished for you to be a link in his chain of command.

What you hadn't expected, was for your first time in leadership to be completely alone, surrounded by no less than fifty Astartes waiting for orders, and five hundred or more Guardsmen half frozen due to the horrid weather; With a multitude of tech priests working on the various machinery and equipment.

This sun up makes it a week since the siege had began, the distant sounds of bolter fire constant. Sometimes the ground shakes from explosions, pulling dust off the cracks in the brick walls.

Walking down the east hall, you step into the large room that has been made into a sort of 'central command' to coordinate the current forces, stuffed tight with a massive holotable and various tech priests scattered around it. Some are working on fixing any malfunctioning machinery, such as the vox equipment that has had trouble maintaining a signal even on-planet through the storm.

You look around to see if anything drastic has changed in your absence. In the moment, you notice a familiar face; A commissar from the beginning of this week. He has the most command over the Guardsmen under you, having been their only superior before the invasion. Any captains or other commissars had been made to report to him, up until now. His closest in rank subordinate had been killed in an explosion on the first day, and in a morose thought, you wonder if they had been any more palatable than he is.

"Any progress hailing the Phalanx?"

He gives you a curt shake of his head, looking over the shoulder of the tech priest operating the vox equipment. Another harsh whip of wind batters against the walls, howling and shaking the glass windows. It rattles them almost just as bad as the distant explosions do.

"Nothing more than a few seconds at a time. But it should be enough of a message for them to understand the planet is under siege." The Commissar speaks short and stiff, face frozen in a neutral, stoic gaze underneath his uniform and few day old facial scruff. You cross your arms.

He's on his best behavior now, considering his disrespect shortly after you'd taken command had nearly gotten his head rent from his shoulders. He hadn't realized he was speaking to the Lady of the Imperial Fists, but the Astartes that had been in your company to deliver the news of your ascension in duty hadn't given him the leeway he might've thought he deserved. He acquiesced command of his guardsmen to you quite quickly, after that. There has been nary a squeal from him since, nor any of his fellow commissars or guard captains.

"Good. Then we will hopefully have aid soon. For now we need to push them back from the storage buildings before my men run out of bolter ammo."

Not that they can't work with just their chainswords, but long range options remain vital considering the hostile terrain you're all working with.

You hear the sound of heavy footsteps approaching.

Alexis Polux, a veritable giant of a man, is nearly unable to get through even a doorway meant for fellow Astartes; Though not of his size. His armor is packed with snow at the seams, pauldrons slick with snow melted into a sheet of ice. His thin, blonde hair is quickly becoming wet at the tips, from where snowflakes are melting in the slight heat of the room. Anywhere he walks, he leaves chunks of melting sleet right behind. It has to be almost packed a meter high at this point out there, judging where the worst of it ends on his leg armor.

"Welcome back, Captain Polux." You smile in spite of the situation. It's something that Dorn had said he found- in his own words- 'curious' about you.

He holds his helm in his hands, walking closer to you. He brushes past the Commissar with not even the slightest tilt of acknowledgement. Unsurprising. He'd been there when the man had questioned your acting in Dorn's proxy. Polux is a man of a surprisingly amount of humility and softspokenness, but he is rarely forgiving.

"The storm is getting worse."

You hear another bout of wind howl through the brick and stone, as it continues to dump more snow onto the ground. While the Astartes can traverse it without much issue, it's becoming one for the Guardsmen. They've slowed their advance significantly as the snow reaches their knees.

"Even if we do get aid, they're going to be hard pressed to get anything more than small gunship planet-side; Though it goes both ways. We're all stuck out here in this mess." You open your mouth to continue, but Polux cuts you off.

"They are not built for the cold like we are."

You look up to the massive marine who's been serving as your second in command. Perhaps it wasn't an officially given title, but he's taken it well, and you could think of no better man for it. Especially given that the other Astartes respect him- which makes your orders have less of a weight to them, given they still have a degree of unfamiliarity with you. Your hands rest on the rim of the holotable.

"Finished my sentence for me." He hums as an odd sort of apology, the humor of your response going right over his head. When you let out a soft chuff of a laugh a few guardsmen curiously look at you for a moment.

"It was a compliment, Polux." He stares, eyes flicking across your face as he loudly thinks.

He really is a Son of Dorn.

You resist the urge to smile again, and look down at the holotable. It's been quite the week, but what was once another language has now become nothing but second nature. Putting theory to practice has proved quicker and less frightening that you'd thought, a week ago.

Though you still hope Dorn returns to you soon, turning away from the holotable to receive an update from a guardsmen holding a dataslate.

If anyone had ever asked, Rogal Dorn has remained no different than the stalwart nature he's always had. Though his captains and commanders can hear tenseness in his voice. No matter how phenomally well the Primarch can mask it.

It's been there since they'd first gotten the first of multiple emergency vox hails, only a few seconds long with a barely stable connection. But the few words that had gotten through had made it obvious that the planet was being sieged.

One of their bases was being sieged, a spit in the face of the Imperial Fists.

Even worse, Dorn has no idea as to your welfare.

He'd thought you safe there, the safest you could be other than with him or on Inwit, and now you stand on a world being laid waste with no way to contact anyone off world. He wonders deep in a part of his mind if it was an error on his part.

They're less than a day out now, watching the warp tear by. Dorn stands at the ship's bridge- unmovable. He'll see the planet any moment now when they leave Warp travel, and then can he prepare for what all is ahead of him.

He has the utmost faith in his men and you. However that doesn't mean that a small, human part of him doesn't worry at the idea of you being stuck mid-siege in an unknown location.

He taught you well. He taught you well. A mantra in his head no one else can hear. It is up to yourself to survive without him.

The siege isn't visible from orbit when they arrive, given the massive storm blocking large swaths of the land in a white blanket. It will making landing difficult, but the storm is clearing- at least according to the tech priest currently in charge. Not long after orders are given to begin battering the enemy's battleships as they strike back, shields taking a sizable hit. Nothing the Eternal Crusader and it's crew cannot handle.

But it doesn't feel as if the ice storm is clearing with the way the gunships struggle to remain stable, even with the most competent of pilot. Though they still manage to land on solid footing in one piece, the wind whipping their armor like a flog. Sheets of snow blow across snow already heavily packed onto the ground, covering up the large footprints of Astartes that had been here moments before them. The stone of the steps is barely visible through it all.

Dorn strides forward, the snow sticking to his boots as he trudges through it. He can hear bolter fire in the distance, as well as what seems like the highpowered cannon of multiple Baneblades. A small team of five Astartes follow behind him, two on each side and one directly behind. They have their bolters raised, ever vigilant even well in the safely of their own area of control. Wind rips through his cropped hair and howls in his ears, and for a split second, he perhaps regrets not wearing his helm. Even for a man of Inwit, this cold stings; He can hear the ice and snow crunching in the seams of his armor.

Stepping inside the cathedral, the first thing he notes is the myriad of supplies stacked inside in the aisles, safe from the elements. Guardsmen are looking after them, divvying them out amongst themselves, or delivering them to the Astartes in need of them. Of which there are a few- Imperial Fist guards from before the siege began. Most seem in decent condition; Dorn notes a lack of injuries amongst the Guardsmen and Astartes alike, and how there seems to be an established system amongst them.

He keeps walking through the nave, passing Guardsmen and Astartes who all give him a drop of the head when he passes.

"Primarch Dorn!"

An Imperial Fist Lieutenant calls to him, helmet in his hand. He has blood on his lips from where his skin has split, the cold having whipped his skin dry. Going down the few steps of the ambulatory, he gives a curt nod.

"Lady Dorn and Captain Polux are in the east hall. Central command has been established there."

He affirms to the warrior and turns, walking through the transept and down the hall. The one who'd spoken to him seems to have other duties, and stays behind on the ambulatory.

He can hear chatter in the large, arched hall- it increases until he reaches the door it's bleeding from, and he opens it and ducks to come through. It's just too short for him, but the ceiling inside can thankfully handle someone of his height. It's a thought that is always in the back of his mind.

When Dorn enters the room, the first thing his eyes focus on is you; Leaning over a massive holotable with Captain Alexis Polux standing firmly at your side. He stands like an unmoving guardian, a hand on the pommel of his chainsword. He's the closest to you out of anyone in the room- either out of his own will, or the gargantuan Astartes has incidentally created a personal area of clearance around you both with his presence alone.

"Dorn!"

You say, an audible pep in your voice. The Primarch walks closer and examines the scene in front of him. You appear uninjured, apart from your skin being slightly pallid from the cold.

The Primarch notices how everyone operates around you with a level of assiduity and efficiency, having been giving clear cut duties. There is no arguing, no fighting, everyone both in this room and all around the cathedral operate smoothly. You have a perimeter established, and you’ve been careful to push the advance but not stretch yourself too thin.

You've done well. That much is clear. A part of him wonders if you'd be able to clean this all up on your own, had he decided to simply give you the reinforcements and leave.

Dorn watches as you momentarily turn away from him to speak to an approaching commissar, and he finds himself listening to your confident and assured tone of voice. A thought crosses his mind.

You look beautiful.

All of your inquiries, curious questions and shaking confidence in your ability to lead have all mixed together, and while you might have made different choices than him, he cannot deny your effectiveness.

Dorn decides to speak before he distracts himself within his own mind further. A hold of your hand or to take a kiss of yours are things reserved for private, not here. As much as he might wish to.

"You appear to have done well for yourselves."

You look up at him and give a wry smile, while he glances at the holotable in-between you both.

"It could be worse. I have a squad of Astartes stuck behind enemy lines, but we've pushed the enemy back from the supply warehouses."

This planet has large city buildings that the wind rips around through, unlike the shorter ones of Inwit. The Astartes are fine in their sealed suits and higher body temperature, but the Guardsmen are all struggling. You more than likely are as well, despite holding strong. He can see the chill on your skin, the cracked skin of your lips.

Dorn's reinforcements will provide valuable support to yours, and with their might together, this planet with be rid of the siege.

You turn to order that the men currently in the battlefield get notice that Primarch Dorn has arrived, and that reinforcements are coming. Besides the soon coming tactical advantage, it will provide a well needed boost to moral. With the intense weather, it has surely been lowering. Though your smile and optimistic look in your eyes prove to be a valuable motivator.

No matter how good the orders, often times the way they're said and the person giving them are what matter most.

The Primarch looks to Captain Polux, and gives him a curt nod. The Astartes politely returns a dip of his head in thanks to the silent compliment of his duty. Dorn then looks back to you.

"You and any men injured will return to the Eternal Crusader." You let out a laugh and shake your head. He can hear the rattle of the bolter on your hip.

"Well now that I've started this, I'm kind of keen on seeing it finished before I leave."

Dorn's eyebrows raise ever so slightly, amused by you. He taught you well, he repeats again. Your command over a such a less than optimal situation has proven as such.

The Lady of the Imperial Fists has proven herself not only to be smart, beautiful, and full of humility, but to be stalwart and confident as well.

"Very well."

He'll stay at your side, and judging by his solid stance, Polux will as well.

Dorn very rarely has doubts, but your confidence and ability to adapt have solidified his thoughts that he had made the right choice in you. His 'sons' taking well to your command makes it far easier.

They will have to when you officially become his wife, after all. You have already accepted the title of Lady Dorn, he has no reason to not seal your bond. There hasn't been much else in his life he has been more sure of.

Ignoring any of his more personal desires in the back of his mind, Primarch Rogal Dorn abides by your request, eyes focused more on your lips as you smile at him.

#gee i wonder if my favorite astartes are obvious if you read my stuff #just wait until i write for Konrad and 90% of the fic is actually just Sevatar because I love him uwu #rogal dorn x reader #Rogal Dorn/Reader #primarch x reader #warhammer 40k x reader #reader insert #reader #mywriting

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takenbypeter · 10 months

Note

Idea for an Adam Warlock one shot to help with your craving lol

After Adam is part of the new guardians, Reader comes back(can be any gender you want) and Adam finds Reader so strange, cause reader does things like eat random plants, make friends with the most threatening of creatures and simply just doesn’t have any sense of need for wellbeing as Reader literally throw themselves off of a cliff to see what’s down there; and Adam tries to copy these things cause of his fascination with Reader but rockets like ‘STOP THAT!’ and Adam ask why… you can decide the reason when you’re writing(could be power, could be simply cause Reader has done it so many times before)

Taking Risks

Adam Warlock x reader

Words: 2906

Author’s note: Hey hey hey, thank you for requesting idk why but it took me a while to think of this one but i like the power reader has even though i may be confusing. Okay so for this one it might be a little confusing but I didn’t wanna make it like, “reader’s power is luck.” Instead this reader is from a planet where if their people die they come back as is but they lose all their memories

Adam sat surrounded by the other members of the all new Guardians of the Galaxy as their captain, Rocket, was discussing a new addition to the team; you.

“Before Quill left, him and I both agreed that this would be best for the team…” Adam’s eyes were glued to you, suspicion behind them as Rocket continued.

“We believe this new addition will add great value to the team, yadda yadda yah,” said the raccoon as he waved his hands nonchalantly, while Adam stayed stuck to you. He took note of your appearance, your skin was a deep orange shade with random scars scattered on multiple areas of your body.

“Everyone this is the new addition, Y/n,” Rocket said as he pointed at you. Adam observed as, despite the scars, and despite the appearance, you greeted the others with a wide smile. “Hello,” you waved, “I’m Y/n, I hope I can be a great addition to the team.”

The team welcomed you openly, and while Adam remained a little wary, he joined in the welcoming.

Just as expected, you were a great add on and like the rest of the team, Adam warmed up to you. You were an excellent fighter, capable of defeating others with your skill.

Yet the more Adam spent time with you whether it be on missions or anytime otherwise, the more he noticed how strange your ways were to him.

While you had now been with the team for a few weeks, Adam still knew nothing about you. Except that you were orange, you constantly ate weird glowing plants, he’s seen you practically throw yourself off cliffs, for what reason? He didn’t know. And you were constantly nice to any and every creature, unless of course they were truly harmful.

Adam found you so strange yet unique, he found himself curious about you and your kind, and he often could be seen observing you. You could say he grew fascinated by you, and while it went unnoticed by you, it wasn’t that way to everyone else.

Adam observed from afar as you peered over the edge of the cliff that you frequented often that was located on a planet you all had found to relax near Knowhere.

“Why don’t you just ask?” Came Kraglin’s voice practically startling the golden boy.

“Kraglin!” He shouted looking your way for a quick moment before shifting his whole body to face the man, “please don’t startle me like that I could’ve easily taken your head clean off.”

Kraglin’s hands automatically reach for his throat, no doubt imagining it, “well it’s not my fault you were too preoccupied with what’s going on over there,” he said, jutting his head in your direction.

Adam’s eyes followed to where he motioned, “I’m not preoccupied. I’m just…curious.”

“If you’re really curious then just go ask questions instead of staring like a creep,” he repeats before he’s called back by Rocket who needed the man's help with something.

Ask? Adam thought. Yeah obviously he’s thought of that before, but he never really found the correct setting, but what better time than the present time is what he told himself as he took steps towards your direction.

You were still stuck to the edge of the cliff when Adam had reached you, making his footsteps obviously noticeable in order not to startle you as he knew some people had a tendency to do (cough cough, Kraglin). As he stood beside you, you didn’t react, you were practically glued in place seated with your legs underneath you as you were bent over with your chest hanging over the cliff while your head was tilted with your ear positioned towards the bottom of the cliff.

Adam curiously turned to his side and stuck his ear out as well trying to hear something—anything that maybe you were hearing that he wasn’t.

But when he didn’t, he retracted his body, “what are we listening for?”

“Trying to hear if my friend is down there,” you replied leaning a little forward. Anyone else may have been frightened to be sat there with their body practically tilting over the edge but you didn’t seem to pay any mind to that.

“You have a friend down there?” He inquired.

“Yeah, he’s a huge fluffy creature. Most people don’t know about them because they like hanging at the bottom of cliffs or deep in caves, but I figure he gets lonely sometimes so I like to visit him.”

Adam eyed you as if deciding whether to believe you or not but he chose to do the latter since he didn’t really have any reason not to, “well that would explain the frequent trips you take down to the bottom,” he said as you both listened again. But then Adam had another question, “you don’t have any levitation abilities do you?”

“No.”

“So…when you go down?”

“He catches me,” you state in a matter of fact tone and Adam lets out an, “oh.”

But then, “your friend…does he ever miss?”

“It’s not that he’s misses but sometimes he’s not in the exact spot I think he is, so really I miss,” you reply simply, and Adam peers down now, concern growing in him. Because if you don’t have any levitation powers and your friend doesn’t catch you, what does that mean for you?

“Considering how far the bottom is, isn’t it detrimental if you fall all the way down?” He asks, trying to see if he’s understood this all correctly.

“Oh yes, absolutely detrimental.”

Adam felt like he was definitely missing more than a few details to the story but he didn’t get a chance to ask further as Rocket asked for his help now.

But it was because of that whole conversation that Adam realized things about you just didn’t make sense.

His concerns however were answered the very next day.

You were all in the guardians spaceship heading towards a new mission with everyone in gear as the ship flew on autopilot mode.

Adam was not subtly watching as you just finished cleaning the odd glowing plant that you seemed to enjoy constantly. After cleaning each side you set it down on the nearby desk before stepping away, no doubt to retrieve something.

When you were out of sight Adam glanced around before eyeing the plant.

He had seen you munching on the plant numerous times and figured it to be quite appetizing, at least that's what it seemed from your reaction.

After practically scanning it with his eyes, he picked the plant up and as he brought the nutriment to his lips he heard, “Adam! Do not put that in your mouth!” Yelled Rocket from across the room.

All eyes gravitated to Adam as he stood there with his mouth open, practically ready to take a bite, and that’s when you walked in. It took you a moment to look around and process what exactly was going on but it didn’t take you long to put two and two when you saw Adam standing there with the plant near his face.

Rocket slapped the plant from Adam’s hands causing it to land on the ground before it rolled to your feet, “take your poison plant and get it out of here,” he ordered.

Apologetically you quickly did as told, exiting the main room opting for the small side room next door.

Meanwhile Adam had just been standing there overwhelmingly confused, “poison plant?”

Rocket let out a breath as the tension seemed to calm down, “yes poison plant. You do not eat that plant, ever!” Rocket instructs, pointing a finger to Adam before he goes off to take back control over the wheel.

Now Adam was lost. How? How was it possible that you did these things and had absolutely no fear behind you?

Still with some time to spare before you all arrived at your destination and wanting to get a straight answer about you, Adam decided it would be best to try asking, straightforward this time.

Leaving the main room he followed after you and found you, sitting in the center of the floor with your back leaning against the furthest wall of the small room while you were eating the seemingly poisonous plant.

As you heard familiar footsteps you looked up from your place meeting the golden boy’s eyes. “Sorry about earlier, I should’ve kept it with me. If it makes you feel better the plant isn’t poisonous…well it can be but this one isn’t.”

You wave the plant up as you take another bite from it, “it’s called the lucky plant. Half of the time, it’s delicious, the other half, it’s lethal.”

Adam looks at the plant, “and you know how to tell the difference?”

You grinned a little, shaking your head, “there’s no way of telling the difference until you take that first bite.”

That was the last straw for him.

“I don’t get it,” he moved to sit beside you, seeing you eye to eye.

“I don’t understand you at all. You jump off cliffs, you eat poisonous plants, you make friends with beasts. I’ve heard it's possible for you to die, but despite all that you’ve done I’ve yet to see it. I’m trying to make sense of it but I’m just not.”

You sat there, all in all surprised because you truly did not realize you were being noticed. You didn’t enjoy talking about yourself, it’s not that you mind but you’d prefer not to, but considering you were a part of this team it was only fair your other teammates got to know about your kind.

So you told him.

“Like you, my kind isn’t born organically, we’re created. Otherwise though I’m pretty similar to regular Terran creatures. I can get injured, I can get hurt, but I’m different in the fact of death. I’m essentially immortal, well that’s not true exactly. If I “die”,” you say adding quotations marks on that singular word, “say by the hands of a knife or if I fall to my death, I will come back the very next day—exactly as I was physically, I mean I may get a new scar…” you say turning your arms to show your scars which were beginning to make sense, “the only difference is when I come back I don’t have any memories, none of the people I was with, none of the places I’ve been. They’re all,” you made a little poof sound as your hand opened in the air, “gone.”

“You have no memories.”

“None.”

Adam knew about how important memories were, he's heard stories of Gamora and Quill, Gamora and the team, Gamora and her sister, he’s heard it all. He knew how important she was to everyone so wasn’t this the same thing.

“Don’t memories make who we are?”

You tilt your head at his question in thought, “not necessarily. I wasn’t made for any specific purpose, I was just made, to be made. For most of the part it’s okay, I have a journal that I write my important interactions in every night, it pretty much keeps me up to date. Rocket keeps it.”

“Rocket knows…”

“Of course he does.”

Adam seems to be putting the pieces together, “but the cliff, the plant, the creatures? If you know there’s a chance of losing your memories, why even put yourself in positions like that?”

“The cliff holds my friends, the plant is delicious if not poison, and creatures are all just scared it’s important to show them they don’t have to be.”

He still wasn’t grasping it. “Isn’t there other means of doing what you do? I can fly, I can bring you down to the cave, maybe cut the plant open and pour it over another to see how it reacts.”

You shake your head again, “I’d rather not be a burden.”

“You think that’s being a burden but you don’t think you losing your memories is being a burden? You don’t think after everything Rocket, Groot, and Kraglin’s been through, you don’t think you being reckless with your life and memories is a burden to them?”

“I…” you had no comeback—no response, “…I…” you didn’t know what to say so you just repeated the facts, “…I keep a journal. I’m exactly the same as I was before.”

“If you truly believe that you’re not causing any harm this way, then you’re just being stubborn and selfish!” He shouted frustrated by your demeanor and with that he stood up and practically stomped off leaving you with your thoughts.

You didn’t enjoy his temperament but he did leave you with questions for thought.

Had you been putting your burden on others by being reckless? Have you just been putting your own wants first? Have you felt this way before? You haven’t read it anywhere in the journal.

“But I’m the same,” you whispered to yourself as your eyebrows came together troubled by this thought. You brought your lower lip in, biting it a little as your beliefs swarmed around your head, “I’m the same…” you repeated as if to convince yourself.

Your eyes fell to the cased opening, where you could hear the others chitchat and then you wondered.

“…am I the same?”

You didn’t have much time to think because soon enough you’ve arrived to your mission.

The mission went successful, and quite quickly and just like that you were back on the ship.

While you had been busy this entire trip practically questioning all you knew to be, you hadn’t noticed the eyes Adam still had planted on you.

You didn’t know it but he felt guilty for all he spewed at the beginning of the trip. He had noticed how distracted you’d seemed and he couldn’t help but feel his words were the reason for it.

Before your descent to Knowhere you all stopped by the nearby planet, just the same as the last time. Rocket had found the beauty shortly before the first Guardians had disbanded and you all recognized it as a place to relax for a moment and take a break. It was a place where Blurp could roam free, Groot could take a nap and you liked to jump off cliffs. It was practically a win for all.

While you all went your separate ways Adam watched as you went to your cliff. He noticed as you sat down far from the edge this time with your legs criss crossed, as you just stared out.

He didn’t want to do even more damage but he still found himself being drawn to you. So he followed and once he got to you he noticed you were just staring straight out, with your lips pressed into a straight line. Unsure of his next actions or words he cleared his throat and that’s when you began.

“You’re right.”

Adam’s eyebrows raised and his ears perched up at those three words. But you continued, “I was rereading my notes and I realized…I write in them every night but what about those nights where I…”died”. I died before getting to write anything. What if there were important interactions, important conversations I had that I’ve just missed and all because I’ve been reckless.”

Adam made a motion to sit down exactly how you were as he listened, “what if I’ve had deep conversations with those I’ve cared about and I just don’t know. What if I’ve been hurting people that way. But what am I supposed to do, just live in fear?”

Adam turned to you cautiously , “I could always fly you down,” he suggested but you were quick to shake your head in rejection. “Sometimes it wasn’t just a point of getting down there. Sometimes it was the adrenaline, the feeling of being free…” you finally face the golden boy with your eyes wide, “what if I’m addicted to adrenaline?”

It might’ve been a silly question but to you it was worrisome. Luckily Adam didn’t let the question throw him off.

“Well it’s a good thing you work with the Guardians of the Galaxy where every battle is an adrenaline rush,” he teases and finally a smile makes its way to your lips and he grins a little at himself being the cause for that before he throws out a new suggestion, “what if we met in the middle?”

You visibly perked up at his words, “how?”

Adam turned back to the cliff carefully picking out his next words, “what if you jumped off and I flew beside you. That way if your friend isn’t at the bottom…I can catch you.”

Adam watched as your expression shifted into one of thought and he didn’t realize how nervous he would be as he waited for your input on this idea. You knew it was only one answer and there was still Minh you had to change or adjust. But after careful consideration you finally turned to him, “that does sound like the best way,” and with that you stood up brushing the dirt off from your legs.

“But can you keep up?” You asked even though you knew for a fact that he could.

He stood up following after you, “only one way to find out,” he added before you grinned at each other. With that share of a smile you sprinted before leaping forward while Adam smiled watching you disappear over the edge and he quickly chased after.

179 notes · View notes

goosewriting · 1 year

Text

Make me a caf

summary: Hux seemingly wants to keep you around after you fix his caf machine.

relationship: Armitage Hux x GN reader

warnings: (18+) making out, sexual tension

word count: 7.4k (this one got away from me... i blacked out and woke up to this. i have no other explanation lol)

A/N: 100% self indulgent. partially inspired by @wordborne’s fic Strictly Business, which is a story for inquisitor!Cal. i wonder what it is about redheads in black outfits that’s so appealing to me lmao

prompt used: they are absolutely losing it, they pin you against the wall, hands on either side of your face, eyes looking down, they say through gritted teeth, "This isn't easy for me. I-I've never--You matter to me. And, You deserve way better than someone like me--" They're cut off when you pull their collar closer, shaking your head, somehow not fazed by his gaze that's ripping you bare. "I deserve you--everything of you, I want it." (source, by @urfriendlywriter)

(english is not my first language. constructive criticism and grammar corrections are very appreciated!)

— — —

Life sure takes interesting turns sometimes. You started out as a mechanic on your home planet, then got drafted by the First Order to work on many projects, the latest being a new base on the planet Ilum, which was a very exclusive and secret project. So not only did you have to relocate for a long time while the base got built, but also in the little leave you got, you weren’t really allowed to talk to anyone.

But you decided a long time ago that’s an okay price to pay for an honestly more than decent pay. You also don’t have to pay for housing or food, you get your own quarters, all your equipment, and even a droid. So, not too shabby.

It’s been a while since you moved to Ilum now, and it’s a morning like any other. You’re the first to arrive at the workshop and your droid beeps at you, telling you that there’s a special request coming in asking for a mechanic. You ask your companion from where it comes and it projects a schematic of the base, with the room in question blinking.

You swallow hard as you realise that’s the part of the base where the captains and generals are housed. But the message was marked as urgent, and you’re the only one here right now, so you take your tools and nod to your droid to follow you.

It takes a while to navigate the labyrinth of hallways; it was pretty rare for the lower deck people to come to these parts. You have to look at your droid’s map a couple of times, but finally you make it to the right wing. Even the design of the walls is different here than it is in the other floors, it’s more sophisticated somehow.

You arrive at the room number indicated on the message and read the name on the plaque next to the door: it’s General Hux’s room. Great.

Luckily you didn’t have to deal with him personally, ever really, but you did hear the rumours, and they weren’t all too… nice. Sure, talks about Kylo Ren and his anger issues sounded worse in a way, but at least he lashed out from time to time. Hux donned you as the kind of person to be so emotionally constipated that he probably didn’t remember how to express anything else on his face except for contempt. In fact you’re pretty sure you’ve never seen the man smile.

Taking a deep breath, you knock on the door, and you’re startled as it opens almost immediately. In front of you towers none other than the General himself, sans his coat, eyeing you and your droid up and down.

“You’re late,” is all he says as he turns on his heel, and you follow him silently, deciding there’s no point in arguing to him about how he summoned you to basically the other side of the base out of the blue.

You try not to stare too much, but you can’t help taking in his room: it’s spacious, clean and tidy. There’s a main room with a couch, a chair and a caf table, and a small kitchen to the side with a breakfast nook attached to it. An open door leads to a space you can’t see, but you assume it’s a hallway to the bedroom and refresher. For a whole organisation that seems to love their sleek designs in black and red, his quarters sure are light, which in turn makes them seem bigger. The wall in the far back of the living room has a huge window reaching almost from floor to ceiling, letting in plenty of natural light, reflected on the planet’s snowy landscape.

When Hux clears his throat, you rip your eyes off the place and bring them back to him, where he stands in the kitchen with his arms crossed.

“The caf machine is broken,” is all he says, then moves past you in a way that only entitled people do, where they expect the other to move out of their way, and takes a seat on the couch, reading through his datapad.

“Right,” you say through gritted teeth, thinking back to all your diplomas and licences to repair heavy machinery, artillery, spaceships, yet here you are, fixing a caf machine.

With a sigh you approach the device and get to work. You find the problem quickly, and luckily it’s an easy fix. You stretch out your arm to your droid, asking for a tool which is handed to you with a happy beep, and finish the repair within minutes.

“All done, Sir,” you call to Hux.

“Test it to make sure,” he orders without looking up.

“...Sir?”

He sighs.

“Make me a caf,” he clarifies. His tone isn’t particularly condescending or mocking though, it’s just flat.

“Uhm, yes, Sir,” you respond, turn to the machine and all its buttons, then back to him. “How would you like your caf, Sir?”

“Surprise me,” he answers and goes back to scrolling through his datapad.

You blink a couple of times, turning back to the device. This is one of those higher end machines, you’ve never really operated one. And you don’t even know where he keeps his stuff.

As if he could read your mind at your lack of movement, he says, “Caf is in the pantry, mugs are in the cupboard above.”

You open said cupboard, finding a collection of plain, black mugs, as well as an electric grinder. In the pantry you see not just an overwhelming amount of different caf beans types, but also a whole barista set, with the little press and the whisky thing. You have never used any of these; all you know is that these sets are rather expensive. And this man apparently knows his caf, so why would he ask a random mechanic to prepare it for him?

Wondering how it is you come into ridiculous situations like this alarmingly often, you get to work, grinding the beans (you didn't know a grinder could be this silent), placing everything in the machine and starting it up. In the pantry you also find some other spices and creamer, but you reckon Hux is the kind of man to take his caf black, so you don’t put in any of the latter. Instead you add a little bit of… you don’t even know what kind of spice it is, as the little jar is unlabeled, but it smells good.

“All done, Sir,” you say as you walk up to him with the steaming mug.

He gestures to the caf table in front of him with his chin, and you’re about to place the mug down, but then see a little basket with coasters donning the First Order symbol. You pick one up and slide it under the mug.

“You can see yourself out,” is all Hux says, without looking at the mug or you.

You hesitate for a moment, not expecting to just be sent off like that. Wasn’t he even gonna try it? Wait… Why were you even waiting for a response? It’s not like you cared.

“Yes, Sir,” you bow lightly and turn on your heels, calling your droid and leaving.

On the whole walk back to your workshop, you wonder what the kriff just happened, and hope that you won’t have to deal with the General for a long time. He’s so weird.

The universe seems to be against you though, because it is only the next day when you arrive at the workshop, but this time you’re not alone. You’re the first mechanic, as for the next couple of rotations you have the early shift, but there’s a Stormtrooper waiting; that can’t mean anything good.

“Good morning, Trooper,” you greet them with a smile as you approach them. “Anything I can help you with?”

“Grab your tools and follow me,” the modulated voice orders. You pack your little bag while the Trooper just stares, then tell your droid to come, but they lift a hand.

“Leave the droid.”

You couldn’t be more confused, but you comply, telling your droid to stay. It beeps sadly and slowly rolls back around your table, where it will probably stay and wait for you to come back. You feel a little bad, but there’s nothing you can do.

The Trooper doesn’t say anything else as you follow them through the pristine halls, your steps echoing off the walls. Every now and then you have to jog a little to catch up with their hasty pace. Soon enough the route seems oddly familiar and you feel like you’re having a déjà-vu.

“Where are we going again?” you ask, even though you haven’t been told yet where the Trooper is taking you.

“General Hux called for you,” they explain.

Okay, now you are confused. You fixed his caf machine, even made him a fresh cup of it. What could he possibly still want?

The rest of the way to the General’s room is silent again, and once you arrive at the door, the Trooper knocks twice, then stands guard next to it. Again, the door opens comically quickly, as if Hux had been behind it waiting the whole time. The thought makes you smile to yourself, and you try to suppress it the best you can.

“Ah, good, you found the mechanic,” Hux says, nodding to the Trooper, who nods back and leaves the way you came from.

“What can I do for you today, Sir?” you ask as you find yourself walking into his quarters again.

This time he has you following him through the hallway to the refresher, where he points at a flickering light.

“Fix it,” he orders and leaves.

Is this some sort of twisted game where he would have you do menial tasks every day? Is the First Order targeting you? Just what in the world is going on, you think, dropping your bag of tools onto the floor with more force than necessary. I have more urgent work to do.

Heaving a silent sigh, you inspect the light. Just as you thought, all it needed was to be screwed in tighter into its socket, and the flickering stopped.

Picking up your bag from the floor, you walk into the hallway. The door to his room is open and you steal a tiny peek inside. His bed is huge! Sure must be comfy…

“All done, Sir,” you report as you come to stand beside him.

“Excellent. Now,” he says as he leaves his datapad on the couch and stands up, taking a step towards you, towering over you. Instinctively you take a step back, and the tiniest of smiles appears on his freckled face. Huh, you hadn’t noticed before that he has freckles.

“Make me a caf,” he orders.

“Sir,” you start, averting your gaze from his piercing one. “With all due respect, you have a functioning caf machine right there. I don’t see why my presence is needed.”

He narrows his eyes at you.

“How did you prepare the caf yesterday?” he asks.

Oh Maker, he probably hated it, you think as you tighten your grip on the strap of your bag.

“Uhm, I…” you hate yourself for stumbling over your words. You bet he’s getting a kick out of this. “Was it not to your liking Sir? If so, I apologise–”

“That was the best damn caf I’ve had in a long time,” he interrupts you, and you can only look up at him in surprise. “How did you prepare it?”

“I made a… I think it’s called a blend?” you try your darndest to remember just what you did yesterday when you experimented with the ingredients in the pantry. “I used beans from two different packs. They seemed like they would go well together… Sir.”

Why did you even do that? You have no idea. You’re also pretty sure you added one of the spices.

“Interesting,” Hux remarks, leaning back to stand at his full height. You didn’t even notice he was leaning in so close to you.

You kinda just stand in place, waiting for further instructions, while his eyes seem to burn through your very soul, his face unreadable.

“Then, surprise me again, mechanic,” he orders, and walks back to the couch.

You gulp for what you’re about to say, but you don’t like how he calls you ‘mechanic’ like it’s a derogatory term.

“Actually, Sir, it’s…” you say and pause, waiting for him to turn to you, and then you tell him your name.

He repeats it, as if testing out how it sounds, and you reprimand yourself internally for the beat your heart just skipped when you heard him say it.

Hux turns his attention back to the datapad, and you quickly make your way into the kitchen, leaving your bag on one of the stools.

Once more you find yourself in front of the pantry, and you get to work. You sniff the different caf packets, trying to understand anything from the colourfully worded descriptions on the back. With a shrug, you just follow your nose like you did last time, and grind up two different kinds of beans, this time without any spices, and let the machine do the rest.

Once it’s ready, you bring it to the caf table, where a coaster is already waiting this time. You place down the mug and bring your hands behind your back, waiting to be dismissed.

But instead, Hux takes the mug into his hand, blowing softly on it, and takes a sip. All without breaking eye contact with you. He waits a couple of seconds and hums. You hope that’s a good thing.

“Interesting choice,” he remarks, looking into the dark liquid reflecting the room’s lights in ripples. “You’re dismissed.”

“Sir,” you excuse yourself with the same bow as yesterday, grab your bag, and leave his quarters.

You take a quick look at the time on your datapad and curse under your breath as you’re gonna be late for the second rotation in a row, and speed up your pace.

This whole spiel goes on for almost two weeks: Hux sends someone to retrieve you from the workshop early in the morning, has you do some menial task as an excuse for calling you, then orders you to make him caf. The feedback you get for your results is sparse at best, usually only one or two words. But you did notice that he has a preference for one type of blend mixed with a certain spice. You even went as far as looking up more things to spice caf up with on the holonet, trying to apply it to the ingredients in his pantry.

The more time you spend in his room, the more he opens up little by little as well. At first you’d work in silence. Then he’d sit on the stools by the kitchen instead of the couch, doing some work. Then he’d put down the datapad to watch you work, and it even came as far as doing smalltalk. Once he even asked you for your input regarding a technical matter in his work, where you caught a glimpse of some schematics of something huge. You’d be lying if you said it didn’t make you curious to know what he was working on.

As ridiculous as this whole situation was, not only did you find yourself looking forward to seeing a Trooper every morning, but you made it your goal to make a caf that would blow Hux’s socks right off.

It’s shortly after the two week mark of this whole thing that you’re on your way to the workshop, expecting to see a Trooper to pick you up, but the place is actually empty, save for your co-worker who’s on the early shift. You greet your droid, who beeps happily at your arrival, and you look around.

“Did anyone come by, buddy?” you ask, and get a negative beep-boop.

When you ask the other mechanic, she also says it’s been just her until now.

Huh, weird. No, wait, hold on a minute – why are you even expecting to get summoned in the first place? You can finally catch up on all the work you’re behind on because of the little “caf-scapades”, as you’ve been calling them.

“Alright, let’s get to work,” you tell your droid and pat it a couple of times. “There’s a lot to do.”

The nagging feeling that something is wrong doesn’t leave you though, in fact, the more time passes, the stronger it seems to get. By the end of your shift, you wonder if you should pay the General a visit out of your own volition. But you decide against it, after all he could be on a mission somewhere, or maybe he was busy today. Either way, it’s none of your business.

You wrap up for the day and finish cleaning your workstation, get your dinner, and not long after, find yourself getting ready for bed. After a quick shower, you change into a tank top and shorts, your go-to sleepwear. You’re glad that despite the harsh outside conditions, the living quarters are well heated.

Just as you’re lifting the blanket to get into your bed, you hear your datapad beep twice: a message. You wonder who it could be this late at night.

With a sigh, you make your way to the table and pick up the device, squinting at the light in your already dark room. You almost drop it to the floor when you see the message: “Come now. Alone.” It’s from an unknown sender, but marked as urgent: it’s gotta be from Hux. You glance at the time and roll your eyes. Of course he would have you on a regular trip to his room every morning for half a month, then suddenly stop, only to call you to his room in the middle of the night. Just what is this guy’s deal?!

You look down at yourself and sigh. This isn’t how you want the General to see you, at least not right now. Not yet. Perhaps.

You don’t really own any civilian clothes, as you’re always in the base. The only non overall kind of clothing you have is a First Order uniform, but that one is only ever really used for official events or gatherings. Plus it’s rather stiff.

All your coveralls are currently either covered in grease and/or smell of engine oil. Besides, you don’t wanna wear those over your PJs. So you grab the next best option, which is the summer version of the coveralls you almost never use because they have short sleeves, and it’s mandatory to wear long sleeves and gloves in most of the hangars and workshops. They’re clean at least, so you quickly jump into them, not even bothering to zip it up all the way, slip into your boots and head out.

Walking down the hallways to the military wing of the base at this time of night is strange; for some reason there’s more Troopers and people out and about than in the early mornings. They give you a strange side-eye when walking past you, but no one seems to question your presence at least.

When you finally make it to Hux’s room, you lift your hand to knock, but hesitate.

Why would he call you out here at this hour anyways? On one side you expect him to tell you that he’s grown tired and bored of you. On the other side you know he wouldn’t do that, not like this at least.

All day, ever since not being picked up by a Trooper, you’ve been plagued by this little voice in your head. A nagging feeling that was disguised as a strange curiosity to know where the caf-scapades would bring you two in terms of getting to know each other, yet you knew that beneath it was genuine worry for the General. He doesn’t contact you all day, then suddenly messages you (which means he went out of his way to get your contact information, since you hadn’t given it to him), and here you are, running to him the second he calls you.

You grimace at the thought, or rather the realisation, that you actually came to… like the General.

He has a weird sense of humour, and isn’t good at expressing how he feels. But if you look closely enough, you can recognise the subtle changes in his face that give away his thoughts. You can’t deny that he is very handsome, but you’re also aware that he can be a dangerous man. You’ve heard enough stories of what he and Ren have done and are capable of. And yet… There's something about his presence, like he’s surrounded by this air full of purpose and confidence, that you can’t help being pulled towards him.

So yeah, you’re intrigued by him. And you want to see more.

Taking a deep breath, you knock on the door in the pattern you usually do.

But the door stays closed.

Suddenly it dawns on you that you didn’t actually know for sure who sent the message. What if it wasn’t Hux, and something happened to him? What if he was hurt and this was all a trap?

You hold your breath, tilting your ear towards the door, trying to hear if there’s anyone at all in there, when you suddenly hear a groan from the other side.

You’re about to call out to Hux but stop yourself. You’re sure it was a groan right, and not a… moan? You feel heat rising to your cheeks at the thought.

Shaking away the images threatening to flood your brain, you knock again. You really hope you’re not interrupting anything.

This time the groan is louder, clearly pained, and it’s calling your name.

“Sir?” you ask, now definitely worried for his well-being, all other theories thrown out the window.

Suddenly, the door whooshes open, but there’s no one in front of it. Instead, you see the remote aimed at the entrance (so that’s how he opened the door so quickly), held by a Hux who’s half hanging from the couch onto the floor.

“General!” you call, close the door behind you and rush to his side.

Hux is only wearing his trousers; his shirt, jacket and belt are strewn on the floor. He probably was trying to get dressed or change, but collapsed. You grab his arms to pull him up, and you get to sit him down properly on the couch. His face is flushed all the way down to his neck, clearly running a fever. Your hand shoots up to touch his forehead and he’s burning. He weakly swats your hand away and winces in pain, his eyes shut tightly, and you feel your own gaze travelling down his jaw to his collarbones, to all the freckles covering his shoulders and pecs.

Forcing yourself to tear away your eyes, you shake his shoulder lightly.

“Sir, you need to go to bed and rest,” you tell him.

“I- I was… trying,” he huffs between heavy breaths, his eyes meeting your own in what you guess was meant to be a glare, but they lack their usual intensity.

“Lean onto me,” you instruct, pulling him up by an arm and throwing it over your shoulder. You feel how he’s fighting to slump all of his weight on you, and get moving.

It takes a while and Hux almost falls to the floor twice, but you make it to his room, where he lets himself fall onto the bed. You rush to the refresher, where you remember seeing a first aid kit, and bring it back to the room. You help him take off his boots and lift the blanket for him to climb into the bed, tucking him in once he’s settled. Then you sit down on the edge of the bed and start unpacking the kit. A cold patch goes to his forehead and you take his temperature, which is way too high.

“I’m gonna give you a stim, okay?” you warn him as you take it out of the kit, pulling the blanket down a little so you can apply it. You stick it below his collarbone in a quick motion, and he hisses.

“There, there,” you coo and can’t help but smile. He grunts as he places his forearm over his face, and you pull the blanket back up properly.

After packing everything into the kit and putting it to the side, you go to the kitchen to get a cup of water. Back in the room, you hand Hux some pills and the cup, and he downs it all without even asking what it is and with no snarky remark, which makes you feel even worse for him; the fever must be really bad.

You’re still sitting at his side, taking in his state and wondering what else you can do, when a question pops into your head.

“Why did you call me, General?” you ask him, and he peeks at you from under his arm. “Shouldn’t you have gotten a nurse or a medical droid?”

“Didn’t get my caf today,” he rasps.

“Oh, so it’s my fault you came down with a fever?” you retort playfully. He nods, and you can’t help but laugh a little.

“So now I gotta make up for my mistake?” you add, and he nods again. You exhale through your nose with a smile. “Well, General, I did all I can do for you. I’m gonna go get a medical droid–”

But before you can stand up, his hand shoots up to grab your wrist, yanking you back down.

“Armitage,” he whispers, blinking a couple of times, trying to focus his eyes on you.

“Sir–” is all you get out, trying to loosen his grip on your wrist.

“Call me Armitage,” he repeats, louder this time, eyes suddenly full of an intensity you didn’t know he had left in his state.

“Sir, I can’t– You’re–” you whimper in pain as his grip tightens around you even more. “You’re hurting me, Armitage.”

Hux looks up at you a moment longer, then down at his hand, and suddenly lets go, as if he only now realised what he was doing.

“I– I didn’t mean to…” he mumbles as his hand hesitantly reaches up to your wrist again, but much gentler this time. His fingers ghost over the irritated skin, taking your hand in his larger one, and bringing it to his mouth to kiss your knuckles.

“Stay the night,” he orders, and you feel like your heart, brain, lungs – everything just stops working altogether.

“Gener–” you start but his brows furrow in a warning glare, so you correct yourself. “Armitage, I really shouldn’t. I can’t.”

Not when you’re like this, at least, you add in your mind.

“I won’t do anything, I promise,” he assures you, his face softening, but eyes still as intense. “Just stay by my side.”

Your eyes fall to your hand still in his, and you feel him give you a squeeze. After a moment, you return it. You’re aware that this can end in one of two ways: it’s either the start of something very interesting, or the end of your career as you know it. Are you really about to risk it all for some fun?

“Okay,” you finally give in, and he sighs in relief.

Hux pats the space next to him in his enormous bed, and you walk over to the other side of it, lying down on top of the blanket. He holds your hand again and closes his eyes, starting to drift off.

– – – – –

The next morning, Hux wakes up to a dull pang of pain behind his eyes. He squints as he takes in his surroundings. When did he get to bed? Did he forget to close the blinds last night? Sitting up in the bed, he sees the patch from his forehead fall into his lap. Did he get that himself from the refresher? Why can’t he remember anything from last night?

He throws his legs over the edge of the bed, seeing that he’s still wearing his uniform’s trousers. On the nightstand is a glass of water and some pills which he assumes to be aspirin. He downs it, drinking the whole thing. Why is he so thirsty?

His eyes travel over the bed when he realises that not only is the other side ruffled, as if someone had slept there, but there’s some mechanic’s overalls neatly folded at the end of the bed too. He freezes, racking his brain for any events of the night prior, but it’s all a blur.

Suddenly he hears some clinking sounds from the kitchen. Sniffing the air he also smells food. Just as he’s about to get up to investigate, you come walking through the door, and his heart skips several beats. You’re only wearing a tank top and shorts, showing much more skin than he’d ever seen from you, and he immediately decides that he likes what he sees.

“Oh, you’re up,” you say, coming to a halt just as you pass the door, suddenly very self-conscious of how his eyes are essentially eating you up. “I made breakfast, and caf. Are you feeling any better?”

He doesn’t answer, instead looking down at the floor. You being here, dressed like this, does that mean that last night you two…? And if so, why couldn’t he remember any of it?!

Given his lack of response, you walk around the bed and stand in front of Hux, looking at him with worry.

“Hey, are you okay?” you ask, your hand coming up to his forehead. You sigh in relief when you notice his fever is almost gone, but you don’t miss how he tenses up at your touch. So if he’s back to normal again… “A-Armitage?”

Hux straightens up suddenly at the use of his name, and looks at you with a ferocity you hadn’t seen before. You instinctively take a step back, and immediately regret it when you see the hurt cross his face for a split second. Hux’s eyes fall and go to your hand which had just been on his forehead moments ago. A scowl spreads on his face as he carefully takes your wrist and brings it up to his face to inspect the bruising that spreads from the back of your hand to almost the middle of your forearm.

“Who did this to you?” he asks through gritted teeth, clearly upset.

“You did,” you answer, and he looks up at you in disbelief. “You don’t… remember anything from last night?”

“I don’t,” he groans, and when he looks back up at you, his ears burn in the cutest shade of pink. “Since I don’t remember, I have to ask… Did we… last night?”

Your cheeks get set ablaze as you shake your head, biting your lip. When he sighs in relief, you feel your heart sink momentarily, but it resumes its erratic beating with his next words.

“I’d hate myself if something happened and I didn’t remember it the next day,” he’s quick to clarify, still not letting go of your hand. “And about this… I’m sorry.”

You don’t think that apologies are something that comes easy to Hux, so you know you should just take it as such and shut up, but you can’t help your blabbering, trying to make him feel better for some reason.

“Don’t worry about it, I bruise easily,” you say with a sheepish smile. “Besides, I’ve had worse. I’ll survive.”

“Worse?” Hux asks, concerned for you and at the same time enraged at the thought of someone else hurting you.

“Yeah, look at this,” you reply, removing your hand from his to lift your shirt up a little, while the other pulls down the hem of your shorts ever so slightly, to show him a scar that goes from above your hip bone up and around your ribcage. “This one I got from when an engine fell on me.”

So you meant work accidents and not someone else laying a hand on you. Hux feels the earlier rage dissipate as he takes in your scar, and the way you so easily bared yourself to him.

Being pulled towards him by your hips, you watch in complete shock when Hux places the softest of kisses on your scar, then traces it with his fingers. He’s so close, you wonder if he can hear your heart pounding against your ribcage.

“Shall we get breakfast then?” he asks, suddenly very matter-of-factly, and stands up. “Wouldn’t want the caf to get cold after all.”

Hux walks past you to the wardrobe, getting out of your sight as he stands behind the open door. You take a moment to control your breathing and imagination, then walk towards the kitchen.

When he joins you on the stools, you notice he changed into more comfortable clothes, and you pass him his mug and a plate of eggs and bacon.

“I can also make some porridge if you think you’d stomach that better?” you offer.

“This is perfect,” he retorts, and starts eating.

You prop your hand on your elbow for a second, just taking in this moment which seems… strangely domestic. And peaceful. It feels like something you could get used to.

Snapping back to reality, you check the time on the microwave, and scramble to your feet.

“Ah, kriff! I’m so late!” you start running back and forth, gathering your things. You quickly slip into your overalls and jump into your boots without even tying them up. You appear once more next to Hux, who’s still calmly enjoying his breakfast.

“You better take the day off. I don’t want to see you around, you hear me?” you tell him, pointing at him with a scolding finger. “Drink plenty of water and stay in bed, okay? Message me if anything comes up.”

Before you realise what you’re doing, you place a quick kiss to his cheek, say your goodbyes and dash out the door, leaving a very perplexed Hux in the kitchen.

It’s only as you’re rushing down the halls that you realise not only what you’ve done but also how this must look to the passers-by: someone getting out of a high ranking officer’s room with rather dishevelled hair, not having even put on your clothes properly. You swallow your pride though, ignoring all the looks you get, and run as fast as you can to your room to get changed.

When you finally make it to the workshop, it’s no surprise to see your supervisor there, and he’s fuming. You try to sneak by to your workstation somehow, but he sees you and calls you over to his office, where he gives you an earful about impunctuality and responsibility and yadda yadda yadda. Then he goes on about how highly irregular this behaviour is from you since you’ve always been a diligent worker, and you better think twice before not appearing for work next time.

You bite your tongue and let it all pass over you. As long as you finish your work within the deadline, there’s no real risk here.

When your boss finally lets you go, you rush to your droid and get to work immediately. The next couple of rotations you’re immersed in your job, taking shift after shift to catch up on everything you still have to get done. In all this time, there’s no messages from Hux, and you’re glad, because you would probably say things to him that you’d regret later if you saw him right now. Getting so behind schedule in the first place is kind of his fault. Sure, you never told him that you were losing precious hours of work, but you didn’t think it’d get this far. That you would come to enjoy his company and hope he enjoyed yours, to the point where he had asked you to spend the night.

So, right now, you don’t want to see him, not until after the deadline. But the universe has other plans for you yet again, as it is the day before it that you see Hux again.

You had told him he should message you. He could have gone and sent a Trooper for you like last time. But no, what does this guy do? Comes to get you personally.

If it wasn’t for your droid, you wouldn’t even have seen him coming because you’re currently head-first inside a cockpit, trying to reach some cables. But its beeps alert you, and you spring up so hastily that you hit your head on the dashboard.

With a hiss and rubbing over the spot you just hit, you get out of the ship, where Hux and two of his Troopers are waiting.

“General Hux,” you greet with a polite smile, “What can I do for you?”

“Come with me,” he orders, and for a moment you look at him in disbelief.

Just what is he getting at now? No greeting, no nothing? Just ordering you around again, in front of your crew? Making you lose even more hours of work? Oh, two can play that game.

“No,” you retort after a scoff.

He comes to a halt and turns around slowly, his eyes narrowed at you in a warning glare.

“I beg your pardon?” he asks, his whole body language telling you to measure your next words very carefully, but instead, you slightly lift your chin in a defiant gesture.

“Then beg.”

Hux curls his fists at his side, and the Troopers lift their blasters to aim at you, but he lifts one hand, and they lower their weapons, but not without giving each other a look behind the General.

At this point the whole workshop is so silent, you’re sure you’d be able to hear a needle drop onto the metallic floor. Even the TIE fighters in the hangars around you seem to roar more silently.

“I am the General in charge of this base and you will listen to me!” he suddenly yells, and you avert your eyes. You can’t believe he just pulled rank on you.

Letting the tool you were holding fall into the toolbox with a clank, you walk up to him, still not looking him in the eyes.

He slightly shakes his head at you, then turns on his heels and heads for the hallway, with you in tow and the Troopers at the end.

Hux takes a different route than expected; instead of taking you to his quarters, which are pretty far away, he heads to the office wing, finding an empty conference room and getting in. He slams the button on the panel for the blinds, and the inner windows dividing the room and the hallway go dark.

“No interruptions,” he instructs the Troopers through gritted teeth, then closes the door.

You find yourself in the rather dark room now, alone, with a seemingly very angry General. He suddenly turns around and takes quick steps towards you, pushing you back against the conference table and trapping you between his arms.

“Don’t you dare defy me like that again in front of the others,” he threatens you.

“Defy you?” you say with a wry smile, crossing your arms in front of your chest. “You don’t get to order me around like your Stormtroopers. You can ask nicely, you know? Or just, I don’t know, like a normal person?”

He groans, slamming his fist onto the table, which startles you. You don’t like this attitude at all, so you push him back and take a step to the side.

“General– No, Armitage,” you try softening him up by using his name, and it seems to be working. “What even are we?”

He starts walking towards you again, slowly backing you up against the wall this time.

“If this is just a game to you, then–” you start, your hands on his chest in an attempt to push him off, but you don’t actually put any strength into it because you know what you actually want. So you let yourself be pushed further, your heart pounding with every step backwards you take. “Then let’s just stop right here. But if you’re serious about this, you need to tell me, please…”

By now, Hux is absolutely losing it, and he finally pins you against the wall, hands on either side of your face, eyes looking down into yours.

"This isn't easy for me,” he says through gritted teeth. “I– I've never– You matter to me. And, maybe you deserve better than someone like me–"

He’s cut off when you pull him closer by the collar, shaking your head, somehow not fazed by his gaze that's ripping you bare.

"I deserve you– everything of you, I want it,” you breathe.

With that, Hux’s last thread of self-control snaps, and he presses his body against yours, smashing his lips on yours. The kiss is heated, sloppy and messy, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. Finally you’re able to show just how much you’ve been longing for each other.

The General slips his hands under your thighs, pulling you up against the wall. You gasp in surprise and he uses that to press his tongue against yours. You hook your ankles behind him, both your hands roaming each other in desperation.

When you finally break for air, you’re panting, but Hux attacks your neck next, and he’s relentless. He spends what feels like an eternity and yet nowhere near enough kissing, biting, licking every inch of your skin he can reach. You’re sure the grip of his hands on your legs will leave bruises again, but this time you find yourself looking forward to them.

Once Hux seems satisfied, he nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck, his shoulders rising and falling quickly with his ragged breathing.

“When you showed me that scar,” he whispers against your skin. “I thought I was gonna take you then and there.”

He leans his head back only enough to look at you, and the intensity of his eyes sends a shudder to your very bones.

“I’ll map every inch of your skin, every scar, mole and freckle, and mark it up. I want all of you,” he growls, and you’re not sure if it’s supposed to be a threat or a promise; you’re just glad that he’s holding you in place because your knees have long since given out.

You cup his face, and bring him in for another kiss. This time it’s much slower, gentler, but just as deep.

“I’d like that,” you breathe into his lips, and he smiles.

When he finally lets you down, you have to hold onto Hux because of how wobbly your legs are.

“You good?” he asks, his hands on the underside of your arms to hold you.

“Yeah,” you reassure him, and have to choke back a laugh when you look up at him.

“What?” he questions with an amused little smile.

“Come here, lemme fix your hair. You’re quite a mess,” you say, and he leans down so you can smooth out his hair as best as you can.

“Well, you should see yourself,” he chuckles as he returns the favour.

Once you’re both more or less presentable, you walk to the door. Before Hux opens it though, he takes your hand one last time in his and brings it to his lips, kissing your knuckles.

“See you tonight?” he asks, hopeful.

“Can’t wait,” you say with a wink.

– – – – –

Bonus:

When you make it back to your table in the workshop with a dreamy look on your face, your co-worker brings her hand to her mouth with a gasp.

“What?” you ask her, looking around in surprise, trying to find the source of her horror.

“Really? The General?!” she whisper-shouts, gesturing to you to follow her.

She guides you to the little supply closet at the end of the workshop and rummages in a box for a clean rag.

“What do you mean? Was it so obvious?” you ask, your cheeks still ablaze from before.

“Obvious?” she repeats rhetorically, handing you the rag and a little pocket mirror. “Honey, you can see those hickeys all the way from Coruscant.”

“Wait, what?” you blurt out and look into the mirror. Sure enough, the General made sure you won’t be able to walk around the base without a turtleneck for several rotations. He went absolutely ham.

“Gha!” you shriek, tying the rag around your neck like a scarf. “I’m gonna kill him!”

#goose feathers #hux x reader #general hux x reader #armitage hux x reader #sw hux x reader #star wars x reader

377 notes · View notes

acescorazon · 6 months

Text

Changes

Chapter: 3/?

word count: 2514

Rating: M

Warnings: Crocodile , Explicit language, minor violence (slightly less than last chapter's lol.)

Chapter excerpt:

Crocodile glances around the room before looking back down at his papers, “It turns out with Buggy’s new status…” He pauses, grimacing slightly, “With the Clown’s new status, the marines won’t just come attacking us out of the blue, but these bounties will definitely be seen as a threat, possibly even a declaration of war, and we have to be prepared for when they do decide to come after us or the event of a buster call.”

A buster call?!

“W-Woah, woah, woah!” Buggy stammers, feeling the familiar sensation of dread rising in the pit of his stomach. “They…They wouldn’t do something crazy like blow up the entire island…right?” He asks, voice starting to crack a little as he speaks, “R-right?”

Mihawk speaks up, in a calm, flat tone, seemingly unworried about the possibility that the island could be wiped off the surface of the planet, “Of course they would,” he replies bluntly, “It’s only a matter of time before they try to annihilate us.”

[Previous part]

Buggy manages to avoid both Crocodile and Mihawk for about a week after the official public debut of Cross Guild, only catching brief glimpses of his ‘underlings’ out of the corner of his eye here and there around the island, before his luck comes to a rather abrupt end one morning. Crocodile calls for their first official meeting, after ordering Buggy beforehand to clear out a space for a makeshift meeting room, and even now Buggy has no idea why they even need a meeting room or to hold a meeting…

The quickest ‘meeting room’ Buggy can come up with is a storage closet filled partly with weapons that he cleared out a little and then put a table, a whiteboard, and three chairs in, and as soon as Crocodile steps foot inside the makeshift room, he sticks his nose high up in the air and sighs, “Whatever, let’s just get started,” He says, tossing an overstuffed manila folder onto the table in the middle of the room and having a seat first. Crocodile is impossible to please, and Buggy questions whether he’s an actual pirate or some kind of corrupted CEO with overly high standards.

“As briefly discussed before, our first step will be putting bounties on the Marines’ heads.” Crocodile opens up his folder, pulling out a couple of neatly stacked papers, “I’ve compiled a list of over one hundred marines, categorizing and ranking them all from highest to lowest bounties already to make things go a little faster,” He hands his papers over to Buggy, who looks at him, stunned and slightly horrified, “You make the bounty posters for them and have them distributed, but do come and see me before you distribute them, I don’t want a repeat of last weeks incident.”

Yeah…Neither does Buggy.

Buggy looks down at the papers Crocodile just gave him, scanning over the list in utter disbelief… There are so many names here…where did he get all these from?! Vice Admiral Monkey D. Garp… Vice Admiral Tsuru…. Vice Admiral Smoker….He reads, and the list continues to grow from there. Crocodile has everyone from Vice Admirals to Captains, to lieutenants and even lowly ranking officers on his hit list, he has people Buggy didn’t even know existed on the list, and for once he’s glad he’s on Crocodile’s side and not one of his enemies.

“Of course, I don’t expect anyone to be able to take on any admirals, or even Akainu, but you never know what’ll happen,” Crocodile states, handing over what has to be the scariest list of names Buggy’s seen so far. “Moving on, We’ll also need ships, weapons, medical supplies, and most importantly, men and land.”

Woah, woah…Buggy’s still not even over this whole marine thing, are they really just going to skip over the fact that Crocodile was able to compile a list of hundreds of marines within a week? Where did he get this kind of information? “For the time being I want anyone we can get, making these bounties and offering protection to any brave individual who’s willing to take on the marines and or make a criminal out of themselves is the quickest way to get more people on our side because as it stands we only have about two hundred and thirty-five men, and there’s no way we could withstand a possible attack from the government.”

A buster call?!

Crocodile, who seems equally as unbothered by the idea of a buster call, simply nods, “Exactly, which is why we need more men and land. These bounties will give us men, power, and higher status, but obviously, it’ll come with consequences. There will be a lot of injuries, deaths, and overall destruction by doing this.”

“So why are we doing it?!” Buggy exclaims, “This seems…”

“We can’t live in the world government’s world, can we?” Crocodile asks, still acting a little too nonchalant for Buggy’s liking, “So we’re going to create our own utopia.”

What the fuck does that even mean…?

Oh, god. They’re going to die. They’re going to be blown to pieces and if they aren’t, they’re going to be executed in front of millions just like…

God, Buggy can’t do this. He can’t handle the idea of his home being blown up, or having to go back to Impel down, or, or being publicly executed. He-

He can’t just leave Cross Guild, Mihawk and Crocodile will kill him. But…remaining in Cross Guild will also get him killed. He’s really going to die. Any path Buggy chooses in life seems like it’ll lead to certain death, and he’s exhausted, he feels like he’s the one with a hit on his head. Buggy thinks back to when he was just a small-time pirate and finds himself missing those days where no one knew who he was or about his past. Back then he could run around freely without worrying about his men or his home being destroyed, but now even if he tried to run away from all his problems, there’s nowhere for him to hide.

God, he’s actually going to die.

There are tears in Buggy’s eyes as Crocodile rises from his seat, pulling out a photo before pinning it to the whiteboard in the room, “We can discuss ancient weapons in the next meeting, but for now let’s move on to land. In the event of a buster call, we’ll immediately have to get off the island and relocate. Now, I’ve picked a few islands out, but this one right here is the most interesting and closest, boys.” He points to the picture on the board, “This is Prickly Pear island, a spacious desert kingdom with a tyrannical king who’s starving his people and hoarding most of the country's wealth and resources. It’s easy pickings, we don’t even have to turn the people against their king, we just show up and ‘save’ all the citizens, and take over.” He grins.

God, Buggy doesn’t want Emptee Bluffs Island to be blown up and he doesn’t want to live in the desert with Crocodile where he’s practically invincible, he just wants this nightmare to end...He just wishes he were still a warlord, no.. no, he wishes he were just a lowly pirate in Orange Town.

God, he hates his life so much.

…

Their meeting lasts a lot longer than Buggy would have hoped it would, and he could hardly keep up with all Crocodile’s plans because, you know, there’s that new silly possibility of the world government blowing them to kingdom come… ahaha, so silly. Anyways once the meeting is over, he quickly gets the hell away from Crocodile and Mihawk as fast as possible and looks for men who can make the bounties for the marines because Buggy sure as shit isn’t going to do it himself, though he doesn’t know if they should really be doing this in the first place...

Whatever. Whatever, it’s too late.

Buggy counted one hundred and seventy-five different marines on Crocodile’s list, and the worst part: Crocodile says he’s actively trying to find out more names, and they’re…They’re fucking doomed. At this point, Buggy just has to pick which way he wants to die, and to be honest… He’d rather die by the Marines' hands than Crocodile’s.

He finds himself anxiously roaming around and just… taking in the view of his island and all the men at work. Even with Mihawk and Crocodile around, Emptee Bluffs Island is bustling and filled with life, and to think that all that could be taken away in a moment's notice just because of Crocodile’s stupid pla--

“Hey, Clown.” God, what now? Buggy thinks to himself, hating the way that Crocodile can’t be bothered to use his actual name most of the time. “I forgot to tell you that I want a main ship built right away.”

Buggy sighs, turning around to face his tormentor, ”But my men are already busy trying to fix the ships the marines didn’t completely destroy.”

“And? Find someone to build me a flagship, and make it quick.”

So bossy and annoying… Buggy closes his eyes and sucks in a deep breath, trying to remain calm. If he lets his pride and his ego get the best of him right now, he’s going to lose his life. For once in his life, he should just shut up… But the urge to tell Crocodile to go to hell is so strong…Crocodile’s so demanding, and Buggy… just wants to…

“Yes.” He replies a moment later, not wanting to get on Crocodile’s bad side again, he’s had enough of that for a lifetime. “Sure. I’ll get right on that.” He tries to end the conversation there and walk away, but Crocodile stops him, “One last thing, clown, about your appearance…”

After Crocodile has threatened to sell him into slavery, beat him senseless, took over his island, and gave him the world’s most unreasonable requests and expected him to fulfill everything in such a short amount of time, why was the straw that broke the camel's back Crocodile criticizing his appearance? “I don’t want Cross Guild to be seen as a joke. Get rid of the onesie and the annoying red nose.”

Get rid of the annoying red nose…

He told him to…He told him to…. Buggy stares at Crocodile, speechless, he feels like saying something he might regret, but it’ll get him killed. He wants to live… this whole time he’s been fighting for his life…and to throw it away so carelessly… “Understand?” Crocodile asks with a displeased look now on his face, not that Buggy knows why he’s looking at him like that.

Get rid of the annoying red nose.

This altercation marks the first (and last) time Buggy tells Crocodile to, “Eat shit and die.” and things go as well as one would expect them to as soon as the insult leaves his mouth. He really should have kept his big mouth shut, but he didn’t, and instantly ends up regretting his actions, like always.

Crocodile chases Buggy all around the island, face red and filled with rage as he screams every cuss word imaginable at Buggy, and Buggy runs away like he owes Crocodile money, which, coincidentally, he does. “I’msosorry,” He babbles out, and the phrase ‘I’m sorry’ has to be his favorite phrase considering how often he uses it these days, “I didn’t mean to…” Oh, who is he kidding? He met everything he said, but he doesn’t think he should get murdered for his words alone.

Buggy runs past a few of his beloved crew members: Cabaji, Mohji and Richie, and finally, Alvida, but no one seems interested in helping him out. They all watch as he runs by, looking confused, then horrified, then once realization finally sets in, they simply look the other way. Cowards! All of em are cowards, and they have absolutely no loyalty!

Crocodile does end up capturing Buggy though, he’s incredibly stubborn and that is yet another thing that Buggy has come to find out about his new business partner. He also really hates being insulted, go figure, and ends up punching the shit out of Buggy’s poor face, again, leaving welts all over him as he so graciously reminds Buggy that he can gut him like a fish at any moment if he wanted to and that he’s lucky to be alive.

Buggy begs for mercy the entire time, but that only seems to anger Crocodile more and he calls him…What was it…? Oh, that’s right, he calls him ‘A worthless coward who should have never been made an emperor’, and then proceeds to tell him how much he hates him.

He makes Buggy feel so good about himself…haha…

They never come to an agreement, Crocodile just grows tired of kicking Buggy’s ass and leaves, and Buggy winds up filled with more hatred than before for Crocodile, picking himself and his teeth up off the ground after his beating, skull still throbbing from Crocodile’s wrath. Okay, maybe he deserved that ass-kicking, but he still thinks Crocodile went a little too far… Nevertheless, Buggy continues on with his day, now instructing some of his crew who are shipwrights to build Crocodile his stupid ship for stupid Cross Guild, hoping that for once his crew will do something half-assed and that the ship will end up sinking or capsizing when Crocodile (and hopefully only Crocodile.) is onboard.

((A/N: Redeeming this fucker (Crocodile) is going to be a BITCH. Trust in me and the process, we'll get to where we need to go though. Thanks for reading, i love you pookies~! ALSO P.S ...Think the next few chapters might have depressed Buggy sooo.. BUT TRUST IN THE PROCESS BABIES.))

#cross guild #one piece #my writing #I CAN REDEEM HIM I SWEAR #i can fix crocodile TRUST ME TRUST ME #HES GOTTA BE NASTY FOR A MINUTE THO BARE WITH IT #mihawk too tbh #I CAN BREAK THEIR RELATIONSHIP INTO PIECES AND FIX IT #I SWEAR #its what the plot calls for pookies.

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butterflydm · 11 months

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wot reread: a memory of light (ch 7-10)

spoilers through the final book, a memory of light

While they were inside having the meeting, Rand's presence in Merrilor has caused trees to sprout and grow outside the pavilion. Perrin says they're the same kinds of trees that he's seen inside an Ogier stedding. The trees are already hundreds of feet tall. I like all of this One with the Land stuff for Rand. It's enjoyable.

2. Elayne doesn't let herself get too distracted, instead calling for maps so that she can start figuring out the logistics of the army. Bryne being cold to Elayne because he holds the actions of her mom against her: damn, Siuan, you really settled when you went for him (he does mellow later and make it clear that he respects her as a leader but that his loyalties are now with the White Tower, so I will give him partial credit). Elayne does take charge here, even when Amys tries to say that the Aiel can handle their own parts of the battle and she doesn't budge when Aviendha tries to press her either, which I really like.

Proud as I am of Elayne for being the wrangler for the entire war effort here (she spends hours here with the generals, clan chiefs... and Perrin, lol), I am not super interested in the details of battles, so I'm not going to be relaying troop movements or anything like that unless it's emotionally important to one of the characters.

3. Let's talk about the Five Great Captains thing for a hot minute: one of the frustrating things that Jordan did was create five continent-famous generals and... they're all men. And the one place where maybe we could find a female Great Captain (the Green Ajah), we're explicitly told: nah, she isn't. So I am definitely glad that Elayne was placed at the head of all the armies here because it's really a Dude Show apart from her (and some input from Amys & Aviendha as Wise Ones).

I kinda hope that the show just does away with the whole "the Five Great Captains" concept as a whole. Give us one or maybe two really good generals on the Westlands side (Bashere is the most important) and then let the Captain-General of the Green Ajah actually be one of the big military leaders, along with including representatives from the Aiel (Rhuarc, Amys, & Aviendha) -- instead of Bryne, let the head of the Green Ajah in Salidar be the one leading Egwene's army.

Because as awful as the Seanchan are, one thing that they do have over the Westlands is that women are just as likely to be important military leaders (like Perrin's slaver BFF Tylee) as men are -- though even there, we had the weird thing where, at least for some of the female soldiers, marriage disqualifies you from service (just like with the Maidens).

So clearly Jordan was aware that women are capable of having strong tactical minds. He just... decided not to do that with the Westlands. For whatever reason.

(oh, I just realized that Lord Agelmar, one of the great captains in the books, has already been killed off in the show! My wish is partially granted already; and we've also seen that the Greens are more willing to fight in the show as well, so the other half of my wish -- that the Green leader in Salidar lead Egwene's armies -- seems pretty plausible, and that would cut Bryne out of the story fairly neatly)

4. The Ogier arrive, which is also when Elayne finds out that they were on the verge of leaving the planet entirely. But Loial's speech worked and every Ogier who is able to fight has come to fight on the side of the Light. lol, forever at Perrin pretending that he did anything when it comes to this; he says that he went ~looking for the Ogier~ to try to see if they could help but then they were already here at Merrilor. You stepped outside a tent? That's your big accomplishment here, Perrin?

5. When Elayne goes to assign Perrin a task, he refuses, because he is a useless person, but Faile steps up to volunteer, because she is a useful person. Anyway, Faile is now in charge of the supply chain, because Perrin thinks he's too good to listen to the person that Rand put in charge of the battle. The excuse he gives is that Rand ~needs Perrin by his side~ so I will wait and see if Perrin actually does stick right next to Rand's side to protect him or if he wanders off on his own.

6. Speaking of people who won't do as they need to: we get a mention of Mat not being here (this time in context of shirking his duty as the Hornblower for the Horn of Valere) and Perrin says that Mat is in Ebou Dar "doing something with the Seanchan" (you know, the people who are still the enemy right now).

How could Perrin know that? He's never been to Ebou Dar. He wouldn't recognize it even if he saw that Mat was there in a color swirl vision. Also, it's only been "hours" since Perrin had the vision of Mat on a dusty road and it takes a bit longer (weeks longer) than "hours" to go from the Tower of Ghenjei (which is in Andor) to Ebou Dar (which is on the southern tip of Altara).

...but I will refrain going into detail on this until we get a Mat PoV chapter, in case there is an explanation on his travel logistics.

7. Also, wow, we really needed to get more from Elayne on what she thinks is happening here. Perrin does not mention here that Mat is married to the Empress of the Slavers Seanchan so... interesting for him to leave that out, since he knows and was so tickled pink by it in his conversation with Mat; and Elayne is only aware that Mat had kidnapped one of the High Blood during his escape from Ebou Dar and that he'd freed Aes Sedai who had been captured as damane. Per ToM, Elayne got the 'heroic' story from Thom while Perrin got the 'Mat married a slaver' story from Thom.

So Perrin and Elayne are actually approaching this conversation from incredibly different levels of knowledge but we don't really get any implication here that Perrin is intentionally hiding the truth about Mat's relationship with the Seanchan from Elayne (due to her being a channeler and Mat's slaver wife being someone who would happily torture and enslave her), he just... doesn't happen to mention the full extent of what Mat is doing. Also: Perrin doesn't mention here that if Elayne wants to know more about what Mat was doing last, she should talk to Moiraine, Thom, and Grady. Why not? Why are we acting like Mat's movements are a state secret that can only be found out via mystic color swirls? Mat cannot go from Point A to distant Point B instantaneously unless he has a strong channeler helping him, because Mat can't channel.

8. All we get from Elayne here is "the Seanchan are the enemy. Mat doesn't seem to understand that, considering what he's done," which could just literally be a reaction to Perrin telling her that Mat has quit the field to go hang out with slavers. Especially since Perrin's 'explanation' was so vague and cagey despite how he actually knows for a fact that Mat is married to the fascist leader of the slaver empire. It could be that he's worried that if Elayne is hesitant to trust Faile due to not really knowing her*, that Elayne definitely wouldn't be willing to trust Mat with the Horn, if she knew that Mat had run off to play house with the enemy (because they are under the impression that the Heroes fight for whoever they're called to, rather than fighting for 'the Dragon' specifically). But, again, we don't really get a hint of that in his thought process here. He just doesn't tell Elayne about Mat's true relationship with the Seanchan for... reasons, I guess.

Elayne even worries here that Mat's "put himself into trouble" with the Seanchan, which makes sense, since the story she got from Thom was focused on Mat being a sneaky freedom fighter who frees slaves! And Perrin offers zero clarification.

(* I am going to point out that Elayne knows Perrin and Faile roughly equally well? She doesn't actually have a developed friendship with Perrin. She saw him briefly in Falme, post-battle, probably, would have spent an equal amount of time with Perrin and Faile during Tear because they were basically joined at the hip, and then the next time she saw him was when he showed up in Caemlyn in ToM. It's Mat who Elayne has spent time with and knows, not Perrin. It's weird because it felt like Sanderson was aware of this in the Elayne & Perrin scenes back in ToM)

9. Yeah, I really do feel like having Caemlyn be one of the battlefronts of the Last Battle doesn't feel needed at all. I'm guessing it's supposed to be there to add ~personal stakes~ to the fight for all our Andor-born characters but... literally all of them are people who understand that all of existence is at stake. They didn't really need the fight to have additional personal stakes. The stakes are already there. All the Caemlyn battle did was make it so that the book doesn't have room in the pacing for the important character moments that we keep skipping. This scene with Lan at Tarwin's Gap is good, though.

10. Elayne talks to Talmanes about the tragedy of Caemlyn. Perrin and his troops have... apparently come with Elayne to Caemlyn? Even though Rand isn't here? Wow, that really does make it seem like Perrin used Min's viewing as an excuse to get out of work that he didn't want to do rather than it actually being the main concern in his mind. That was literally only last chapter and Perrin has already gone away from Rand's side, lol.

Elayne notes here that Talmanes is one of Mat's "most trusted" men and is slightly disappointed that Mat hasn't 'corrupted' him into swearing more. I will note again that Talmanes is the one person* who knows that this entire tragedy could have prevented if Mat had been willing to read a letter. Mat not being confronted with his failure here is another example of Mat vanishing from a storyline and leaving a gaping hole, which is something that Jordan (and now Sanderson) did with Mat but not really any other character. It really does feel like Mat should have been two separate characters by this point in the story (honestly leaning towards feeling that Harriet was wrong to suggest Jordan cut The Fourth Ta'veren Boy back in TEotW) because he just leaves these massive narrative holes all over the place that have to be hastily shored up with tertiary characters.

(* apart from Olver, who didn't really seem to fully understand the note; also, side note... where is Olver? I dimly recall that he isn't dead -- no thanks to Mat -- but no one has mentioned him)

The Boy Who Defects To The Seanchan and The Boy Who Saves Moiraine At The Tower Of Ghenjei really are incompatible character through-lines, including just needing to be in completely different physical locations at roughly the same time. If we still had Fourth Boy (who I am assuming would be Seanchan-Defector Boy), then I assume Seanchan-Defector Boy would have simply gone back to Ebou Dar with Fortuona.

11. Elayne notes that it has been 'one day' since Talmanes was pulled out of the city. The attack on Caemlyn began literally while Talmanes and Olver were still waiting for Mat to return from the Tower of Ghenjei, something that Mat was explicitly planning on doing at the end of ToM.

I'm trying to wait until Mat's PoV chapter to truly judge this storyline but, wow, the logistics are a mess and make zero sense in terms of the timeline and geography involved. Mat is not a channeler. The channeler who was helping Mat with the Tower of Ghenjei is at Merrilor.

Mat has no viable path to Ebou Dar that doesn't go through Merrilor, not if he wants to get there sooner than a month or two months from when he and the others exited the Tower of Ghenjei. Moiraine went into the 'finn doorway before Egwene rediscovered Traveling for female channelers, so Moiraine would not know the Traveling weave (though I'm sure she's learned it by now -- probably the first thing she did after the meeting with Rand!).

I'm... extremely curious to see how Mat's first PoV chapter makes sense of the logistics of his storyline. Because as it stands right now, it looks like Sanderson & Team Jordan simply dropped the ball when it came to Mat's timeline in comparison with everyone else's, because this makes no logical sense.

12. It's so weird for Elayne to casually be thinking about how "Tam" has come along with Perrin with absolutely zero internal acknowledgement that he's the grandfather of the kids that she's currently carrying. I'm... pretty sure she knows that he's Rand's dad, right? Otherwise, why would she even mark out this specific captain of Perrin's as special? Also, Bashere has told Elayne that Rand gave him ~special instructions~ to watch over her. The contradictions of whether or not Elayne is being treated as Rand's love interest (who is pregnant with his kids!) continues to be super-weird.

Bashere suggests that Elayne make it public that her kids are also Rand's, and she tells him a. it's none of his business and b. that sort of thing would make her kids targets. Also, you know, if she does decide to do that, maybe she should... tell Tam first? Separately? Because he's their grandfather?

But, nope, Elayne decides to just make a general announcement, against her better judgement. I will note again that Tam is part of this wing of the army, so he would find out here that his son, who gave him a ~special introduction~ to Min back in ToM, also got the Queen of Andor pregnant. How is it possible that Tam doesn't have some questions about that?

13. The Last Battle is actively occurring on four different fronts, and Mat Cauthon is a deserter. It's hard to avoid that thought, as we move from battlefield to battlefield and Mat continues to be inexplicably not present. In Tarwin's Gap, Lan's forces have to retreat from the full crush of the Shadow's forces.

14. We learn from Egwene's thoughts that she and Gawyn got married in a private ceremony. Once again, I say, stop having important emotional moments happen off-screen!

How is the Morgase & Tallanvor's wedding ceremony more relevant to spend page time on than Egwene & Gawyn's wedding? Baffling priorities!

I feel like that's the main issue at hand with A Memory of Light: it does not feel like the narrative priorities are in the right place. We keep skipping important emotional moments so that we can have battle scenes instead. We've spent way too much time on tertiary characters in a subplot that is completely detached from the main plotlines (the Black Tower plotline).

I have absolutely no idea what rumors or gossip is currently out there about Rand's various relationships (especially after Elayne has now had it announced that she's pregnant with his kids -- Rand parading around with Min while Elayne is several months pregnant seems like it could hurt morale as much as it boosts it, because now Rand looks like a philandering douchebag, which is maybe not super-reassuring to the rank-and-file, who already viewed Min as Rand's "pet", per Min's PoV in TGS. we saw what kind of impact the Berelain situation had with Perrin back during the Slog; it made his men look at him with less trust and respect. not ideal!).

And we keep getting reminded that Mat isn't here, but it also makes no logical sense for him not to be here, given the set-up we were left with in the last book.

15. Elayne has suggested setting up a hospital for the wounded soldiers, run by Yellow Ajah Sisters. Of course she has! <3 <3 <3 <3 Egwene agrees that it's a good idea and suggests that they set it up in Mayene, far away from the various battlefields.

16. It's finally time for Egwene to talk to Leilwin née Egeanin, who Nynaeve has deemed 'marginally trustworthy', lol. Leilwin née Egeanin swears herself to Egwene's service but then admits that she doesn't have the kind of inside knowledge that Egwene is asking for. Even so, Egwene tells Leilwin née Egeanin to tell her what she can of the Seanchan & the Empress's plans. I, uh. Hope that someone is taking notes. For. Reasons. For the future.

17. Are Rand and Elayne finally going to interact in private? Rand snuck into Elayne's tent and is checking out her maps. It's so weird that he feels like he needs to sneak around to see her when she's literally throwing out public 'I love you's (and now announcing that he's the father of her future kids), what on earth is the public status of Rand's relationships?

(if Rand is here 'in secret', does that mean that Perrin still gets points for 'staying near him'? The color swirls aren't a radar detection technique that tells him where Rand is at all times, so I'm going to say 'no')

18. I genuinely loved this reunion but the timing makes no sense -- either they should be cutely sneaking around at the very beginning of the book (before the big meeting) or they both should have been firm on doing the spy games and pretending that they don't have a relationship and then it would make sense that it took this long before they could arrange to be in the same place. The half-and-half thing that the books actually went with it... kinda just weird.

19. But I will choose not to focus on that at this time and will instead focus on what we actually got out of the reunion: he's impressed by Elayne's battle planning (🥰🥰🥰); "golden hair with a hint of honey and rose" (🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰 he is GONE for her 🥰🥰🥰🥰); here is life (🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰) ; he thinks everything about her is beautiful and amazing and wonderful (🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰). I love that he is capable of being absolutely gone over her in his head but also had zero issue treating her like fellow a capable ruler that he respects. They have the range. Ugh, we were cheated out of so much Rand & Elayne time in the books!

20. Elayne and Rand both mourn that they've never had time to figure out where their relationship fit into the whole 'the world is ending' scenario. Hey. Hey, there would have been a quick fix for that: Rand not immediately bouncing after their day & night together in Winter's Heart and actually staying in contact with Elayne & Aviendha after the bonding!

And even if his head was too screwed up to do that until after the epiphany, Rand had all of Towers of Midnight to visit Elayne BEFORE it was literally 'the middle of the Last Battle'; he knew exactly where to find her. But, in addition to letting him find out about the pregnancy, Rand visiting Elayne in Towers of Midnight would have also meant a Cauthor reunion in Towers of Midnight, and that would have made it even more ridiculous that Mat spontaneously deserted on the eve of the Last Battle, I guess. I mean, it's still ridiculous, because Mat was planning to return to Caemlyn at the end of ToM, but I repeat myself, lol.

(yes, yes, I promised I would hold off on complaining about the Mat plotline until we actually got there. I'm trying! lol)

AU idea: Rand goes to Caemlyn after his epiphany; runs into Mat and I guess maybe Perrin too, lol.

21. Okay, if she didn't know before that Tam is Rand's dad, she definitely knows now because he just said "Tam will be a grandfather" (which Tam also knows, because Elayne literally announced it to her army). So if Tam and Elayne interact in the future, they do so with Elayne knowing that's her boyfriend's dad and with Tam knowing that's the mother of his son's kids. So I would expect to actually see that reflected in how they interact.

Rand kneeling in front of Elayne so that he can touch her stomach is pretty cute. 🥰

So, Rand tells her here that he didn't know about her pregnancy "not until the night before the meeting." This would have been a perfect place for a justifiably puzzled Elayne to ask, "why didn't Min tell you? She told the entire Royal Palace," but then Min might actually be treated like a person who is capable of making mistakes* and not just as Rand's Sexy Accessory, so of course it doesn't come up.

(* the mistake in question being blabbing all over the palace about Elayne's personal secrets, which resulted in Elayne getting objectified by much of her household staff and being treated as nothing but a vessel for her pregnancy; Min getting so drunk that she forgot everything is just the Hand of the Author making sure that Rand isn't allowed to get any positive news during his downward spiral)

22. Rand feels "warmth" at the knowledge that he's going to be a dad but sorrow at the thought that he will probably die and leave them fatherless.

Awww, at this "last lesson" from Elayne on being a monarch. "It is all right to plan for the worst possibilities but you must not bask in them. You must not fixate on them. A queen must have hope before all else." As @markantonys and I have talked about, this really does feel like such a major part of why Jordan kept Elayne separated from Rand for so long -- because she could have given him useful advice on how to balance the concerns of being a ruler with what he needed to do to keep himself emotionally centered as a person.

What we've seen Rand get from both Elayne here and from Aviendha earlier on in the books, it's advice and reassurance that Jordan felt he needed to withhold from Rand in order for him to spiral down to rock-bottom. Rand wasn't allowed to have hope, so that's why Jordan made sure he couldn't spend too much time with Elayne. We saw in his private scenes with Min that she brushed off moments like this or tried to distract Rand with sex rather than engaging with him as a person (or sometimes she would threaten him with a knife).

23. Our two workaholics talk shop during their romantic dinner together. Of course they do. Elayne talks shop when she's taking a bath, lol.

Aaaah, I really do love Rand's thoughts here about how his love for Elayne was forged because of the things that they have in common and the burdens that they share. He feels like she can really understand the part of him that has been crushing him the most (maybe the second-most, after the prophecies of the dragon). Respect, understanding, attraction, and affection.

24. Elayne asks him about what happened "that day atop Dragonmount" and Rand thinks that he's not talked about that specific moment with anyone yet. He tells her that he realized how important it was that he care in order to fight this battle, and that means that he now truly feels the pain of all the deaths that are happening due to the Last Battle again, whereas before he could block it out.

Elayne intuits that he has Lews Therin's memories and when he confirms that he does, she's thrilled and tells him what an advantage that it gives them, and Rand is just blown away by her reaction.

🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰

I do like Rand and Aviendha and I find a lot of their culture clash elements charming and enjoyable, but Elayne and Rand Just Get Each Other on a fundamental level (and they always have! Elayne often had thoughts about how Rand would likely react a certain way to something and she's usually correct!). If they'd actually been allowed to spend more time together... *regretful sigh*

And even with how much they have in common, Elayne's passion about doing her part in his fight still pleasantly surprises him and he compares talking with her to watching fireworks -- always beautiful but the form that the beauty will take can still surprise him. I love them, your honor.

25. Rand literally uses his ta'veren One With The Land Dragon Reborn powers for fix Elayne's tea so that it isn't spoiled any more. I will die from the cute. I will die. Such a lovely and sweet quality of life thing for him to do for her!

And then he gives her a personalized gift that shows how well he knows her and respects her both as a person and with her specific Aes Sedai Talents: a Seed to help create angreal. And she gives him the ter'angreal knife that will protect him from the view of the Shadow, to help him during his fight, the one that Aviendha gave her (so in some ways, it is a gift from both of them to Rand -- one way that the show could, imo, improve on this scene is by letting Aviendha, Rand, and Elayne's reunion all happen together the same night rather than Aviendha's right before the Last Battle and Elayne's while the battle is already underway; then they could give him the knife as a joint gift).

26. "They stayed together long into the night. " Oh, I bet they did. *wiggles eyebrows*

🥰🥰🥰🥰

27. Hmm, we get the info on how many medallion copies currently exist:

There's Mat's medallion

There's a medallion copy that Mat currently has that he was planning on giving to a slaver

There's a medallion copy that Birgitte currently wears

And one copy was stolen by the Darkfriend queen's guard dude

So one original medallion and three copies, at this point in time. And Elayne has said that she can't make any more copies without the original, I think.

28. Birgitte has also continued to get ever more bitter and controlling, which I have speculated was a deliberate change of characterization to show how her memory loss is affecting her but the issue is that some readers of the book will take any bitter rant against a character they dislike as the gospel truth, rather than treating it as a biased PoV. And that can be very frustrating.

Just... man, remember when Birgitte was a fun character to be around? I miss when Birgitte was fun.

29. On her way back to the battle-planning tent, Elayne runs into Uno here, and he tries to watch his language and she ~generously~ tells him that he doesn't need to. Haha, she should just tell him that she likes to listen to swearing; he would probably find it a relief.

30. Lan's front continues to need to retreat from the battlefield and it makes him feel like he's abandoning the idea of Malkier all over again. Aww, Lan.

Oh, also, the 'dreadlords' of the Shadow have shown up (the Black Ajah and various Turned channelers and Darkfriend Asha'man, I assume. No mention of the Aiel in red veils yet).

31. ...we just casually mentioned that Elayne is relaying some news to "Talmanes, the Aiel, and Tam al'Thor." You can probably guess what I'm going to say.

Stop! Having Important Emotional Moments! Happen Off-Screen!

Elayne and Rand have reconnected. That is Rand's father, who presumably knows by now that Elayne, Queen of Andor, is pregnant with his grandkid(s). How is it possible that we completely skipped over any kind of conversation between them at all? We got a whole, like, page-long scene about Bashere pressuring Elayne into publicly announcing her pregnancy, but this scene we skip? Priorities!

32. Also, I just want to note that Perrin is off "engaging the Trollocs" and not, in fact, hanging around Rand in case he's needed to save his life. I really do think that Perrin was just using Min's viewing to get out of a job that he didn't want to do.

33. It is genuinely so bizarre that Elayne is hanging out with the Two Rivers archers, led by Tam al'Thor, and absolutely no one in the scene acknowledges that she's pregnant with Rand's kids. Everyone is just strictly all business.

...did Elayne have a sword before? I don't remember her having a sword before.

34. Feels weird that Mat isn't the one who sees the dragons finally being used in action for the first time. Again, it feels like Mat is missing out on all the conclusions to his various character arcs -- this one being about the industrialization of war. Mat has been tied to this from very nearly the beginning (TDR when he used fireworks to blow a hole in the Stone of Tear), even before he got his 'finn memories, and yet he's not allowed to finish out this character arc either. Of seeing this moment and realizing how much the battlefield has changed. Sure, he can see it again later on, but the impact of the first time that the readers saw this weapon of war in action, and the destruction that it leaves behind... this is part of Mat's story. That's the third story element where it feels like Mat has been abruptly cut out of completing part of his character journey:

irrationally mistrusting Aes Sedai leading to the attack on Caemlyn -> Mat doesn't see the results of his mistrust and doesn't actually learn the lesson

accepting Rand as the Dragon and as a friend at the same time -> doesn't actually talk with post-Dragonmount Rand about it, to bring their story full-circle

bringing new (non-Powered) war to the world -> is not one of the first people to see the destruction & cause it, not there to realize how much this changes the future of war (Birgitte gets to do it instead)

Theoretically, that could all be on purpose, in order to deliberately leave the feeling that Mat's story is the most unfinished at the end, but the way that he's been vanished from the Westlands stories just doesn't add up on a practical level, either logistically or narratively. Doesn't make sense.

I'm about a third of the way through, so here are my feelings about the book so far in my reread:

There are some fantastic individual scenes:

The Avilayne reunion: adorable

The Avirand reunion: funny and sweet and cute

The Randlayne reunion: peak romance; I died several times

Rand setting up the pavilion at Merrilor: amazing

But the overall priorities of this book feel like they are in the wrong place. The center does not hold. Those great individual moments are in a framework that is rushing past and ignoring many other potentially great character moments. And I get why the book feels rushed -- it is rushed. AMoL would have been, like, three or four books all on its own if Jordan had lived to write it. But I feel like Sanderson was choosing some of the wrong things to brush over and some of the wrong things to linger over.

Anyway, this is getting long enough, I think, so I will end this section of the reread here.

spoilers for the rest of the book below, past chapters that I've done in my reread

Was the Elayne & Bashere scene meant to be a clue that Bashere had been Compelled?

Because Elayne is correct that there's no need to announce that her kids are also Rand's, and all it does it paint a new target on her back from Forsaken & Shadowspawn. Though from what I recall, there's absolutely zero story impact from this at all? Which kinda makes it even more unnecessary.

Arguments against this: Birgitte also seems all for it, for whatever reason?

I think that Bashere should have made the suggestion to make the announcement, Elayne should have rejected it, and then Bashere should have done it anyway. That would have been a very good clue that something was wrong with Bashere (though he could still justify it to himself by saying that he believes it will motivate the soldiers) without having Elayne cave to him for no real reason.

Elayne could even have found out that Bashere went behind her back because Tam came to her asking if it was true! We could have had an actual conversation between Elayne and Tam that led to them talking about the whole "Tam is gonna be a grandfather" thing.

#wot reread #wot #wheel of time #the wheel of time #elayne trakand #rand al'thor #egwene al'vere #mat cauthon #wot book spoilers #wot spoilers #wot amol spoilers #wot a memory of light spoilers #randlayne

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freesia-writes · 11 months

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OMG congratulations on hitting 500!!!!

i love these prompts and its so hard to choose lol.

definitely Kix and i'm thinking i like #16.

"I've seen the way you look at me, when you think I'm not looking. You don't think I've noticed…"

thank you darling, and here's to 100 more! 💜🧡

Thank youuuu! I appreciated your suggestions on this one! :D Hope it's a fun read. <3

Kix x GN!Jedi!Reader Word Count: 3k Content Warnings: PG-13 battle stuff, medical treatment, and kissin. Dividers courtesy of @djarrex

GORGEOUS KIX FACE by @rosemarynightmares-art (though this story takes place when he still had his short buzz cut, I had to share it cause his eyes and lips are just... *MWAH*)

Your lightsaber was a blur in front of you, deflecting blaster bolts and sending them flying back toward the rows of droids. The sound was deafening, lights flashing everywhere, shuddering blasts rocking the ground, but you were honed into the Force, silencing all but your own path through it all. The Separatists were retreating, scattering and falling back to the canyon beyond, and you and the 501st were pressing forward.

A pained yell to your left caught your attention, as you heard and felt the trooper get shot in the thigh. He collapsed, still trying to level his DC-17 at the droids ahead, and you leapt in front of him, providing cover as the rest of the squad continued to force the retreat. As the air slowly cleared, the battle dying down for the time being, you turned to place your hand on the fallen trooper, heart aching at the pain you felt radiating from him. You channeled all the energy you could into a peaceful, soothing presence that you directed toward him, feeling his breathing slow just a little bit. It wasn’t much, but it was all you could do.

You saw Clone Medic Kix running from body to body, working at the speed of light. You marveled at his nimble fingers and singular focus, triaging the injured clones, treating some on the spot, and organizing the transports back to a medical bay. You heard Captain Rex giving orders for the squad to reorganize and report to the staging area, and you gingerly lifted the injured trooper to your shoulder, draping his arm across to support his one-legged hobble back toward safety.

You’d been with the 501st for a number of months; shifting needs of the war had stolen you from your previous post. But you’d been grateful for the camaraderie and truly unique brotherhood that existed within the boys in blue. You’d grown incredibly fond of them, feeling each one’s unique presence in the Force and enjoying the way they all meshed together while being so incredibly different individually. One in particular was nestled close to your heart…

Lowering the injured trooper onto a gurney, you met Kix’s eyes as he arrived to scan the clone, making notes on his datapad and instructing the transport.

“Thanks for your help,” he said, too focused to smile but emanating gratitude and affection nonetheless. You could feel his spirit -- kind and fearless, determined and intentional -- and your heart fluttered, sending some alarm bells ringing through your head.

“No problem,” you answered, jerking your eyes away at the sensations that his soulful gaze was causing within you. You gave him a formal nod, then left to attend to your own matters.

“Come on,” Jesse poked, both literally and figuratively as he jabbed his elbow into your side. “We hardly ever get to come to Alderaan’s surface. It’s not only fun, but easy on the eyes too, and you’re way too uptight.”

“I appreciate the beauty, but the Quint sector isn’t really my scene, Jesse,” you deflected, feeling Kix’s eyes on you from across the transport, along with a prickling sense of anticipation from him. You were all strapped in, shooting toward the planet’s surface as you watched the star cruiser fade into the distance behind you. There had been a special exception made (most likely due to the Organas' extreme kindness and generosity) for the clone squads to enjoy a couple days of rest and relaxation while their cruiser picked up some supplies and waited for the next destination. The gently curving buildings flying past the window were clean and light, sparkling in the sun, and it felt as though the war didn’t even exist here.

“Have you ever been?” Jesse prodded, leaning forward with a knowingly arched eyebrow. You knew he had you there, and pressed your lips together firmly, sending him a look. “Ha! I knew it. Well, it’s just irresponsible to not explore a new place. Maybe it’s extra strong in the Force or something. It’ll make your magic even more powerful. Or supercharge your lightsaber…”

A wave of mirth rippled throughout the troopers in their seats, and you grinned, unable to be mad at Jesse’s indomitable spirit. You were warmed to the core at the energy among the 501st -- they had accepted you easily upon your arrival, they trusted you fully, and they had warmly welcomed you into not only their battles but their free time. You’d learned some details about heavy artillery from Hardcase, enjoyed a lecture about the discrepancies between certain manuals from Echo, and had even been taught by Fives how to never leave the bar alone at night. Not that you’d asked for any of these, but you couldn’t resist the earnest delight of each clone as they shared their various interests and insights.

You’d worked alongside Kix only briefly, feeling deeply unsettled by the inexplicably different vibe you got from being in the same room as him. He’d started off with a few cheesy pick-up lines, which immediately fell flat, and then stuck to strictly business. There was something about his soul that called out to you, though, and you tried to walk the thin line between enjoying his company, working shoulder to shoulder, and keeping things professional. You were grateful he wasn’t Force-sensitive, able to pick up on your feelings and thoughts, and were constantly torn between removing yourself from his presence altogether or refusing to miss out on an opportunity for connection.

You shook your head, bringing yourself back to the present, where the clones had moved on to other topics of conversation. Apparently, it was decided that you’d be joining them to the Quint district on Alderaan, which was nothing like 79s but was as close as you could get in this sector.

Hours later, after some time to clean up, you met the clones at the address they’d sent you, surprised to see them in their civvies. You couldn’t help but rake your eyes over Kix, who was engrossed in conversation with Echo and looked more diminutive without his armor, more inviting somehow. You pushed the thought from your mind, waving to the group and taking a seat next to Dogma, who sat silently at the end of a large table.

“Ha! I knew the Jedi would come!” Jesse announced triumphantly, smacking Fives on the chest. “You owe me!”

“Well you basically bullied your way into that one,” Fives grumbled, elbowing Jesse right back. “You clean up nice,” he commented, giving you his infamous eyebrow waggle, which broke a bit of the tension you were feeling at not knowing quite what to do with yourself. You grinned, giving a playful shrug, and allowed yourself to soak up a bit of the joviality of the room. It was so different from 79s, even though the general purpose was the same, but it was absolutely beautiful. All of the furniture and walls were gently curved and boasted cool, tranquil colors of white, gray, blue, and green. The volume wasn’t too loud, but the place was filled with comfortable tables and chairs at different levels, each organized into little conversation areas that were cozy and welcoming.

“I’m going to grab a snack. Anyone want anything?” you offered, met with a cacophony of eager responses. You made your way to the counter to place an order, barely opening the menu before feeling a warmth beside you.

“Figured you’d need a hand carrying it all back,” Kix explained, a small smile curving his sharp features. You felt a rush in your chest, smiling and nodding in return. The feelings were growing, and you’d managed to keep them strictly under wraps, but every interaction with him was fanning the flame. It felt precarious… and enticing. You made a mental note to spend more time in meditation, to release any attachments and stay true to your singular commitment to the Jedi code.

Once the order was placed, there was nothing to do but wait, and you found yourself lost in conversation with Kix within minutes. You had an unquenchable thirst for knowledge, and he was more than happy to share some of the most baffling, unique, and tragically disgusting cases he’d come across in his medical career so far. You laughed and questioned, fascinated by his adventures so far, and found yourself thoroughly elated as he finished a story that you were fairly certain was heavily embellished.

The discussion took a turn after a little while, moving to more serious and heavy things. How he managed to keep cynicism and disillusionment at bay, you didn’t know, as he recounted brother after brother who had been lost in the war efforts. Your heart ached for him, feeling the complex emotions washing over him in wave after wave. He fell silent for a moment, running a hand over his intricately shaved and tattooed head, and you found yourself wanting to do the same. Tenderly, intimately…

A sharp inhale brought you back to your senses, and you turned promptly to return to the table, “Just come get me when the food is ready?” you called over your shoulder, desperately needing to flee his presence. You plopped into your seat next to Dogma, who cast an inquisitive glance your way.

“Empty-handed?” he asked, expression softening the intimidatingly sharp tattoo across his face.

“Kix is waiting for the food,” you explained dismissively. “So… I have yet to hear your tattoo story…” Anything to take your mind off of the slightly confused medic, still standing by the counter, watching you with a furrowed brow.

This battle was not going well. Plasma cannons echoed all around as blast after blast rained down where you and the 501st were hunkered in some of the flimsiest cover you’d ever seen. Rex and Jesse were quickly discussing an alternate plan, as shot after shot whistled through the trees around you. You made a few suggestions, revised the final strategy, then Rex announced it to the squad. On his signal, you charged in two groups, left and right, sprinting for the identified landmarks that might allow you to curb the frontal assault that was far more than intelligence had suggested it would be.

Suddenly, a huge cannon explosion landed nearby, causing one of the massive trees to crackle and waver. You looked up in horror as it teetered, roots ripping up from the earth, and began to crash through the forest canopy above as it fell… right toward a group of clones who were running toward their designated target. They were almost clear of its path… but one fell, shot in the stomach, and Kix was right beside him in an instant, scrambling to drag him clear. Horror clenched your chest, and without thinking, you ran toward them, using every tattered bit of energy you had to Force-throw them out of the way. As they landed on a nearby bush, the injured clone yelling in pain, you leapt over the tree as it smashed onto the ground where they had just been.

As you jumped down, focused entirely on the clones below, you missed the sizzling blaster bolt that was headed straight for you, tearing through your upper arm. A yelp escaped your lips as you landed, grimacing at both the searing pain and your own lack of awareness that could have prevented it.

The steady beeps of the equipment in the room were soothing as you dozed, comfortably bandaged and bacta-d up. You’d made it through the rest of the battle, reaching the drop zone and being lifted back to the ship with the squad. Fortunately, you’d been shot on an external limb, so the outlook wasn’t so dire as it would be from a direct torso hit. As you slowly woke up, feeling rummy and warm, you suddenly became aware of a presence beside you.

Kix was laying out a few items on a tray, not even looking at what he was doing in favor of watching you regain consciousness. His amber eyes were deep with concern and care, and you were flushed with sheepishness all of a sudden. Why did it have to be him…

“Sorry to wake you,” he said softly, his smooth voice a caress to your ears. “It’s time to change the bandage and place another injection before the last one wears off.” He was strictly business, but you could feel the internal conflict within him, realizing how much it matched your own. None of it was allowed. It couldn’t end well. There was no possibility…

“It’s ok,” you answered, trying to sit up as best you could with only one arm. He was beside you quickly, lifting you up, and the faint whiff of his unique scent reached your nose. Sterile, musky, clean, and… manly. You were quickly spiraling down a path that you knew was not a wise one. “I’m just going to… uh… meditate… while you do that…” you muttered, needing an escape from his intoxicating closeness. He smirked, nodding without a word, and slowly began to unwrap the gauze around your bicep. You closed your eyes, reaching for that place within, trying to sink deeply into it and release all the thoughts and feelings that were buzzing around your head. But you couldn’t. No matter how hard you tried, your senses were holding you firmly to the present. Kix’s gentle hands. The quiet sound of his breathing. The smell of him as he leaned over to unwrap the last bit.

You suddenly felt a weight on the side of the bed, next to your legs, and opened your eyes in surprise to see that he had taken a seat next to you. So incredibly close. And was leaning forward with a furrowed brow and intense squint as he examined the wound. Your heart flipped in your chest. This wasn’t supposed to happen. It all felt so intimate, even without any overt affection…

“I’d warn you that this will hurt, but I know you’re a tough one,” he said playfully as he readied the bacta injection to ensure there was no long-term bone, muscle, or ligament damage. You flinched as he placed it, but he was right -- you’d been through much worse. And the internal torment was completely distracting. As he moved to apply a light layer of gel across the stitched-up shot, he leaned closer and spoke quietly, feather-light fingers tracing over the gnarled flesh. “Tough… and kind… and brave… and intriguing… and beautiful…” he murmured, keeping his eyes fixed on your arm as though he’d explode if he looked anywhere else.

“Kix,” you breathed, studying his intensely focused face, “What are you doing?” His words reverberated within your very soul, shocking you with their unveiled honesty and affection. He fell silent for a moment, placing a patch over the wound and smoothing the adhesive around its edges, then finally lifted his eyes to yours. It sent a jolt of electricity through your body that continued to be amplified as he scooted slightly closer, picking up your hand in both of his.

“I've seen the way you look at me, when you think I'm not looking. You don't think I've noticed…" he said, voice barely above a whisper. Your mouth fell open slightly, completely stunned. You’d thought you’d kept it under wraps, keeping everything on a formal, friendly, professional level, and had also assumed that you were the only one privy to the thoughts and feelings of others. Clearly you hadn’t been as subtle as you thought. You searched for words but had none, eyes darting back and forth between his, tingles radiating up the arm from the hand he was gently holding.

“I can’t… I don’t…” you began, and he smiled faintly, looking down at your hand, nodding silently to himself.

“I know,” he whispered, taking a deep inhale before lifting his head to yours again. “But…” his voice grew stronger as his eyes took on a roguish gleam, “We may all be dead tomorrow, so…”

His sudden levity burst through the tension, and you surrendered to the ecstatic flurry within as he leaned in, careful to avoid your injured arm, reaching one hand up to gently cup the side of your face. He drew closer, confident yet unsure, eyes intently searching yours for a response. He leaned his forehead against yours for a moment, and your ragged breathing seemed disproportionately loud. You could feel yourself opening up to him in a way, releasing the strict control of mind over body, leaning into the warmth and connection that was radiating between the two of you. Your eyes fluttered shut, lips parting slightly, and you tipped your chin upward to bring your lips together.

A sharp inhale through his nose signaled his surprise, but within a split second, he was melting into your kiss, hand roving down your neck to cup the back of your head. Your good hand pressed into his back, tilting your head to bury yourself as deeply in his face as you could. He pulled away, keeping his eyes closed for an extra second, smiling serenely, before meeting your gaze again. You lifted your good hand to his face, brushing the backs of your fingers along his pronounced cheekbone before tracing careful fingers along the side of his head. He basked in your touch, eyebrows arching up in the center, simultaneously blissful and pained at the reality of the situation, but that could be dealt with later.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a long time,” you whispered, gently raking your fingernails down the back of his neck, earning a shudder from him that made your heart sing.

“I know,” he answered, with a smug grin in your direction. “You don’t need the Force when you’re that obvious.”

“I thought I was being subtle,” you laughed, drowning in bliss as he leaned in again.

“You thought wrong,” he murmured against your lips, and you lost yourselves in each other once again.

#kix #clone wars kix #clone medic kix #clone trooper kix #tcw kix #kix x reader #kix x you #clone wars one shots #clone wars fic #clone wars fanfic #clone wars fluff #kix fluff

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vaguely-concerned · 22 days

Text

A Stitch In Time First Read Reactions & Thoughts Monster Post Part 3

Stumbling over the finish line if not in style then with enthusiasm!

Part 1, Part 2

- Odo looked as if he could use a spell in his bucket; I had rarely seen him looking so run-down.

<3 I love one goo man

“I’d better get this information to Captain Sisko,” Odo decided.

“Would you rather I tell him?” I offered. Odo looked positively drained; he needed to return to his liquid state.

Every time Odo is changeling-sleep deprived Garak starts to hear kill bill sirens and flash back to ‘the die is cast’. It is kind of sweet that he seems to be worried for his friend and not trying to gain an advantage or sneak around here tho.

The ironies of the situation both amused and irritated me. Here I was, the invaluable decoder of Cardassian encryptions containing life-and-death information for the Federation—and they won’t trust me with the code to wake up Captain Sisko. Ah well, it was never easy being a Cardassian on this suspended chunk of desolation. And then I laughed out loud. But what about Odo? The last time I looked he was a changeling, a member of the race of Founders that was determined to destroy the Alpha Quadrant. Not only did he have the captain’s wake-up code, he also slept with the station’s second-in-command.

LMAO you know what fair fucking point garak. Tbf I’m sure there are some people who’ve been assuming you’ve been fucking the chief medical officer too

But if Damar had thrown his support to the rebels … if it wasn’t a ploy… I wanted my revenge on him, yes, but not at the expense of liberating Cardassia. And it wasn’t just liberating the planet from the control of a foreign power. It was closer… more personal. I wanted something that was even more difficult to attain—redemption.

The doors opened, and once again I was alert as I stepped into the deserted corridor and moved past the sleeping quarters to my own. It was time, I kept repeating in my head. It was time to take our place among the planets and peoples of the Alpha Quadrant as a civilized and open society. It was time to repair the damage. “A stitch in time saves….” What? What was that expression?

*pats him very gently and lovingly on the head* This man can unironically fit so much character development in him

“You’re Khon-Ma, aren’t you?” She didn’t respond. “Being the only Cardassian on this station, I expected you a long time ago. What kept you?”

She should shoot you actually just for this

I stopped. What’s the point, I thought. All the stories were beginning to run together and they all had the same ending.

Smoking gun of ‘hm I think there might be some unreliable narration still lingering here’ lol. In a way all but openly admitting that like this is probably more like telling the truth for garak than telling the actual truth would be. From how we see him interact with Toran in the show I buy that the emotional truth about this is basically as he tells it tho — I think he’s angry and disgusted with himself more for having been unable to stop something from happening and taking that as being as responsible for it as the asshole who caused it, rather than actively making it happen himself. That’s the kind of pattern he has in so many other places in his life too, trying to navigate in the very limited space and with the very limited agency being submissive to personalities like Tain and Toran leaves you.

“And they were all killed,” she said even more softly.

“End of story, Remara.” I considered telling her how I had exacted my own revenge upon Toran, and that my only regret was that his death hadn’t come sooner… but what was the point? Another treacherous opportunist dies after tearing another hole in the fabric. What’s gained except the potential for more damage? I rose. The station’s gravity felt like it had increased threefold.

“If you’re going to kill me, get it over with. One way or the other I’d like to go to sleep.”

“Who gave the order?” she asked.

“What difference does it make? I did, if you like.”

Remara just looked at me. She lowered the phaser. Part of me was deeply disappointed.

The ‘has he been thinking with his horny brain this whole time or is he passive-actively suicidal’ conundrum. I suppose there’s nothing saying it can’t be both but I also think it’s more on the second side than he’d like anyone to know. I guess there’s no easy way to tell the guy who saved your life that you don’t really care that much for said life most days, and if you were offered some plausible deniability…

“You’re going to have to leave this station. They’ll keep coming after you until someone succeeds. Goodbye, Elim.” She put her hand against the side of my face, and I felt the heat coming through. Perhaps her passion was a curse as a terrorist, but she was a whole person … and she had found redemption.

Chewing on the idea of being a whole person vs. ‘unfinished man’ and ‘mosaic person’

- Gul Toran is someone Tain has warned me to monitor periodically.

Ah so Four Lubak is the future Gul Toran (the asshole in the Natima Lang ep if I remember correctly)! I see. That also means his snarking about Toran being made Gul is entirely performative he’s known about it for years lmao that was literally just to be a bitch yes wonderful

- The fact that Tain has an evil Romulan twin/soulmate and they hate each other fdskjfhdsa

- So interesting that it does take until middle-age and Palandine’s extended presence in his life before Garak’s sense of humor really emerges fully. It seems such an integral part of him in the show, it sure is Something that it basically had to be carefully tended to and supported like a lil flower by careful gardener’s hands (thank you Palandine I’m sorry your life is a nightmare)

- But I must confess that the toast proposed by proconsul Merrok left me feeling much better about the whole affair.

. . .

“At first I couldn’t think why you hated him,” I confessed.

“I don’t hate anyone, Elim,” he carefully explained. “I have a job to do—and sometimes it’s necessary to eliminate those enemies who can’t otherwise be dissuaded. And he was determined to block our interests at every juncture.”

“I don’t hate anyone” says man composed of about 98% hate per volume

“Oh yes, my boy—yes, you did excellent work. A job well done.” He had never complimented me with such unconditional enthusiasm. It was almost a demonstration of paternal pride.

“You see, I had this planned for a long time, Elim. But Tolan wouldn’t agree. He wouldn’t take on the assignment, and he wouldn’t pass on the information. But thankfully he trusted you, Elim.” Tain patted me on the shoulder, which meant I was dismissed.

Weaponizing Tolan’s memory against him. Fucked Up.

- Fear and isolation, Doctor. You can’t have one without the other. Fear isolates and isolation is fear’s natural home. Just as my orchids need carefully prepared soil to protect them against disease and pests, fear needs the isolated circumstances to deepen and grow without connective or relational interference. When fear is allowed to flourish in its dark and lonely medium, then any evil that can be conceived by the fearful imagination will emerge.<

This whole chapter is so fucking good, and it starts slapping right from the beginning. The way this works not only as a description of the larger crimes of Cardassia, but also the shape of his own life.

‘My orchids’ is very sweet, and a phrasing that occurs several times.

My feelings are spent, my moral rationalizations are empty, and I can’t say it’s not my problem when I’m pulling and lifting and throwing bodies of people who once only wanted to go about the business of their lives.

His life has been a series of violent deconstruction followed by reassembly of the broken pieces, and this should have been the most shattering of all but it comes across as almost peaceful. He finally gets to have his soul to himself enough to make something meaningful with it and put it together in his own time and in the shape of his own truth, even in the middle of such a painful realization.

Colonel Kira once told me how many Bajorans died during the Cardassian Occupation, and my mind rejected the figure like a piece of garbage. We’d been in the service of the state, I had told myself, and the state had determined what was necessary. But now I understand why she hated me. More important, I now understand that constant burning, almost insane look in her eyes.

. . .

Most of us who are left, Doctor, are insane. We have to be in order to survive and emerge from our isolation. It’s the only way we can live with the pain of what we did. Or didn’t. Each of us accepts the amount of responsibility we are capable of bearing. Some accept nothing, and these people are quickly swallowed by their isolation, their insanity transformed into a rationalized evil. A smaller group accepts total responsibility, and their insanity is an unbearable burden that cripples and eventually grinds them down. The rest of us carry what we can and leave the rest. For myself, Doctor, when a corpse is too heavy to bury I try to remember to ask someone to help me.

This man can hold so much fucking character development 2 electric boogaloo and HOW!! Imagine early seasons Garak saying anything like this! Even while I��ll also buy that early seasons Garak does have the capacity to get to this point in the end after enough work. AND the way it goes with his dream of Cardassia as a mass grave earlier/later on in the book — which also sort of indicates that the person he’s asked to ‘bury these bodies with’, as it were, before, was specifically Bashir. ‘You taught me to ask for help’. I’m so fucking soft for all the ways Garak is showing him that he touched his life in the very best and most beautiful way anyone could, no matter where they go from here.

- “I don’t know. I suppose I’m just trying to reconcile statistical analysis with Romulan gardens.” We lapsed into a long, stony silence. Usually she knew better than to expect a real answer when she did ask about my working life. We both tried not to venture into certain personal spaces; often the attempt functioned as a barrier. I’m sure she knew that I was more than a data analyst at the Hall of Records. She also understood that the less she knew about what I did the more chance our relationship had to survive. For the same reason I never asked about Lokar. The less information, the less damage if either one of us was betrayed.

Garak that’s kind of sloppy, of course she knows something’s up if you’re making it that easy to figure out lol

Another interesting detail: Palandine seemingly never learns that Tain is Garak’s biological father, then. Very emblematic of the way all those secrets were still getting between them despite their best efforts. And lending even more meaning to the fact that many years later he lets Julian find out in uh perhaps the most direct way possible haha.

“I’m of two minds. I know, that’s just another way of saying that I’m confused.”

Huh. I wonder if the way this is phrased suggests that that’s not a common expression in Cardassian and he’s translating it directly from Standard or something, or that his uh. Mental confusion/dissociation/fragmentation pops up enough that she’s familiar with it already here?

“Yes. What if they’re right? What if they could help us reclaim something noble in ourselves? Where does that leave us?” We stood looking at each other. The night wind gusted through the foliage and I wondered where I’d be if I didn’t have this woman’s friendship.

What a soft way to describe it. Really drives home the like. Wholeness of what she meant to him.

“It was a while ago, Palandine. I don’t know if they’re in the same place … or if they even meet tonight.” Her enthusiasm rendered me as helpless as it did when I first met her.

Julian/Palandine parallels time yet again

I looked at Palandine, and she now radiated with such light that I turned away, inexplicably embarrassed as if I had seen something I shouldn’t.

So sad somehow that they kind of drift apart in this scene, where Palandine finds something that helps her and he mostly seems to come away lost and confused, if cleansed. (and he still can’t cry with someone else in the room)

After Palandine had left, I had spent the rest of the night sitting in the Grounds near the children’s area.

How is this so goddamn sad fhkjshfa. They’re still just children, and no one is going to come pick them up from the playground, no one is going to protect them

- “Yes, of course,” I replied. I took a deep breath, and my disparate parts began to snap back.

Adrift from himseeelf. This is kind of what I meant about Palandine maybe picking up on some of his — this stuff. Which structurally pops back up in The Wire too, with how he tells the stories.

“You look like you’re not eating anything,” Prang observed. If Tain was the father of the Obsidian Order, Prang was its mother.

LMAO. And he’s constantly worried about his saddest son I guess. Tain/Prang most cursed DS9 rarepair idea???

- His other hand was now probing my skull behind the right ear. The man’s ambidexterity was impressive.

Lol diversity win: the mad doctor about to implant you with experimental tech is ambidextrous!

Oh. Oh no it’s the wire time. The fact that he’s one of the first agents fitted with it b/c his hindbrain distress tolerance is too worryingly low for their comfort…

When I tell you that this wire will give you no trouble, as long as you don’t meddle with it, you can believe me. You know that, don’t you, Elim?”

“Yes, I do, Mindur.” The man had never given me anything but superb technology and sound advice. “Please continue,” I submitted.

“Good boy.” Timor thumped my shoulder again.

HORROR SHOW CULTURE ONCE MORE and also. Praise kink revisited and made more interestingly fucked up. Also submission theme thread.

Do you think he’d meddle with the wire eventually even if he hadn’t been exiled. I feel like there’s a non-zero chance of that.

- I remembered the Hebitian frieze and its lush background. Of course we were different people: it was a different world. The more the forests receded, it seems, the more we covered ourselves. Their world didn’t need an agent of the Obsidian Order to investigate a group of prominent Cardassians who “happened” to be spending their vacation together. It didn’t have Enabran Tain targeting one of his bitterest enemies, Procal Dukat, a powerful member of the Central Command. And I’m certain it didn’t have fathers who refused to acknowledge their sons. If we lived on the next spiral of the cycle of life, how did we know it wasn’t going downward?

a) ‘what if the glass is not only half-empty but also leaking’ yes very cheery Garak and b) one of the rare times he lets not just his bitterness with Tain but also his longing to be acknowledged by him fully shine through. To me it seems like that’s the one thing that’s still too raw for him to dwell on in this narrative. He mostly doesn’t get into or sit with the pretty obvious fact that he loved Tain, and desperately wanted Tain to love him too. You can see the traces through the whole thing of just how angry he is with him now that he’s dead (GOOD! HE SHOULD BE! HE SHOULD BE ANGRIER; IF ANYTHING!), but that particular element of it seems too vulnerable to keep in sight most times

- PYTHAS IS BACK BA-BEY!

His grace was even more refined as he moved to the small house that was our assigned base of operations. If anything could have taken my mind off downward spirals it was the appearance of Pythas.

And the mutual crush endures (also with me I love a sneaky little twink)

“What was good for you, Elim, was usually agreeable to me as well,” he wryly observed.

The way Pythas is like Garak’s shadow — except in Garak’s eyes he does everything ‘right’, he doesn’t seem to have that same aching need for connection, he follows his orders easily, he’s perfect and he reaps the rewards Garak never gets. Garak never even resents or begrudges him any of it. And yet they end up in basically the same place when all’s said and done, in the ruins of Cardassia, and Garak might even win out b/c his trials with the mortifying ordeal of being known mean he has some people in his life he’s starting to truly trust, the way Pythas seems to with Nal as well. Thinking. A lot of things.

Over the years, his modest demeanor and quiet ways had turned him into more of a solitary person than I ever was. I had learned to withdraw my presence as a tool, but I was always aware of my need for contact, and that my value as an operative lay in my ability to engage others in a nonthreatening manner that drew them out. Pythas had learned to withdraw his presence as a way of life—and he moved through the world like a shadow. I was not surprised that Tain had recruited him for the “invisibles.” It took a special person to be able to operate in such unrelentingly anonymous circumstances—no family, no fixed base or identity—and there was no doubt in my mind that he was one of the most brilliant agents in the Order. Our relationship picked right up where it had left off at Bamarren. Other than Prang, I have never met anyone where so much was communicated with so few words. His eyes had a depth and eloquence that told me everything I wanted to know. How ironic that my lust for conversation was satisfied by someone who rarely spoke.

Ah, so if Palandine is the proto-Julian, as it were (and Parmak is the silver fox Ersatz Julian), Pythas is definitely the anti-Julian as well as Garak’s shadow hahaha.

- Garak is undeniably a city boy at the end of the day haha. Pythas help him out there in the jungle he doesn’t belong here I understand why you’re so worried

- In a way it was touching: the old man reverting to the mind control exercises he had learned as a child.

Garak. The warning bells. Should they perhaps be ringing merrily in your mind at this combination of words and letters. Oh well.

- “Yes, it’s me.” I squatted so that I was at eye level. I tried to soften myself, round off all the sharp edges.

Yes yes yes this is such a good description of that Thing he does. His ‘just a lil guy/tailor/gardener/funny spy man’ move

‘Carriers of disease’ and spreading poison motifs are back. Dukat Sr. uses it here to describe cowardice/Federation ideals/hashtag the SJWs/the forces that threaten to disrupt the status quo of the fascist state.

- I left the containment field in place and stepped outside to clear my head. No matter how objective I tried to remain, I could never remain totally unaffected by another man’s horror. Fear was a contagious disease.

This seems right to me — I don’t think anyone who could truly shrug off other people’s suffering would have to make up such webs of justification and alienation as Garak does to do what he does. Maybe that empathy is why he’s so good at it and also why it messes him up so bad over time

His *Working 9-5 slowed down & with reverb plays softly in the background* vibe about it is undeniably kind of funny tho

Contagious disease thread cont too, and not the first time fear is spoken of that way

“Who are you?” he asked for the second time, fighting against the toxin’s effect. This was one tough old warrior.

“Your worst nightmare,” I replied.

“Ah,” he croaked. “Then Tain sent you.”

- YOUR WORST NIGHTMARE fhdkjshasjh good for you Pythas isn’t there to hear it that is so embarrassing Garak (affectionate)

- Garak dreaming of being buried with the still-whispering mass grave of Old Cardassia… what the fuck I don’t think I’d sleep ever again after that haha

Of all of the people he dreams of, most of them are dead (or potentially soon about to be dead? Not entirely sure how that works out for Mila in particular. And I guess we technically don’t know if Calyx is dead, but after so long it seems very likely), except as we find out later Pythas. And Palandine isn’t there.

NO. NO YOU CANNOT TELL ME THE FIRST THING HE DOES IS CALL JULIAN IN THE MIDDLE OF THE FUCKING NIGHT W H A T

“It’s not a medical emergency. Please, I realize this is an imposition.” There was a silence and I heard another voice in the background. Ezri Dax. A muffled conversation. The Doctor cleared his throat again.

“I’ll be right over,” he said.

This is so melancholy I want to disappear into a puddle of quiet yearning and never come back to solid form just put me in a bucket like the Odo.

This is also the first time in this book Garak has asked Julian for help rather than Julian trying to approach him to give him help (and being rebuffed). He’s called for and he comes :’)

He gave me his puzzled look, which wrinkled his brow. I was always amazed at how deep the furrows were for one so young.

Soft little detail time yet again. Garak has been sitting across Julian for years just looking at this face and picking out new details.

“ ‘There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, Than are dreamt of in your philosophy.’” he quoted.

“Who’s that?” I asked.

“Shakespeare,” the Doctor replied.

“Hmmh.” I nodded in agreement, surprised that for once the author of the politically misguided Julius Caesar made sense.

Fhdskhfskjdfhsdjak you say that as if you didn’t quote the politically misguided Julius Caesar to your father’s face on a burning spaceship as you for the first time truly saw that he was as fallible as anyone else and invoking Bashir’s name in the process Garak

“Of who we are, Doctor. Our being. Human being. Cardassian being. But we have become these beings—are becoming, always in the process of becoming—on these other dimensional levels that are not limited by the measures of time and space. And the great determining factor of our becoming is relationship. Unrelated, I become unrelated. Alienated. Opposed, I become an antagonist. Unified, I become integrated. A functioning member of the whole.” The Doctor was thoughtful; his previous agitation had dissolved.

“You’re a scientist, Doctor. You have a deep understanding of this level. I don’t mean just the mechanics. You understand about relationship, the laws that attract and repel, the combinations that nurture and poison. Health and disease. Integrity and breakdown.”

“In your dream,” he said, “I presided over the burial of yourself and the people you were most intimately related to. Why?”

“You said, ‘for the good of the quadrant…. they must never be allowed to return.’ Why would you say that?” I asked.

“I can only think that….” He stopped and shook his head. “I’m sorry, Garak. This is not easy for me. I still can’t help thinking this was your dream. Even if I was invited … you were the playwright.”

“Yes, but put yourself in that part. Why would you bury these people and cover up the pit?” The Doctor looked at me in frustration. “Please. Indulge me. It’s vital that I have your answer.”

“If you and the others were carriers of some disease,” he shrugged. “In our fourteenth century on Earth there was a terrible plague, the Black Plague, which wiped out half of Europe’s population. People believed that the dead bodies had to be destroyed, burned … buried … because it was the only way to prevent the spread of the disease….”

. . .

The Doctor was studying me with an interest in his face I hadn’t seen in years.

“Well? Is it the Black Plague, Doctor? Or just the ramblings of an old spy on the eve of battle?”

“You’re an amazing man, Garak.”

“And my gratitude to you can never be adequately expressed. But I shall try,” I promised.

“Please. What have I done?” he asked genuinely.

“That time you extended yourself so generously and found a way to remove the wire from my brain without killing me …”

“I would have done that for anyone,” the Doctor interrupted.

“I’m sure that’s true, but that’s not what I mean. All during the time the device was deteriorating, I was convinced I was going to die.”

“You were even resigned to it,” he reminded me.

“I was also convinced that it was all a dream, and I kept asking myself what you were doing there.”

The Doctor was puzzled. “But what you just told me, that our dreams are just another way we relate … ?”

“I had forgotten. That point of my life was perhaps the lowest. I had forgotten many things. When I ‘woke up’ and realized that because of you I was going to live—at that moment, I began to recollect some valuable information.”

“About dreams?” he asked.

“Yes. But specifically about relationships, and how they set the course of our lives. You not only ’saved’ my life, you also made it possible for me to live it.” The Doctor’s face darkened.

“What is it, Doctor?”

“The time I wounded you in that holosuite program ….”

“Yes,” I prompted expectantly.

“I never apologized for my action.”

“And you must never apologize!” I urged.

“Please, Garak. This is not the time to give me a lesson on how to behave like a hardened spy….”

“No, no, no. On the contrary, when you shot me, my dear friend, that was the next step in my process of remembering. I was going to sacrifice the others, the people you considered your friends, because that was the only way I could be sure to save myself. You opposed me. Indeed, you would have killed me if necessary.”

“I’m sure it would never have gotten to that point,” the Doctor muttered.

“You would have killed me,” I repeated. “For the greater good.” The cliche suddenly had another meaning for both of us. “This is my last trip to Cardassia. I’m not returning. You were in the dream for a very specific reason. Once again, you helped me remember. Thank you, Julian.” I put my hand on his shoulder.

“You’re welcome,” he smiled warmly. “And by the way. It wasn’t the dead bodies that carried the disease. It was later determined that it was the rats feeding on the bodies who were the transmitters.”

“Then I guess we’ll go to Cardassia and look for the rats,” I said.

“Be careful, Garak. And look after my hot-headed friend, will you?”

“Don’t worry. We’ll look after each other,” I answered him. He moved to the door. “Did you really have a dream about Hippocrates?” I asked.

“Yes. Actually I did.”

“Why am I not surprised?” I replied.

First name use…

Disease contagion imagery, and this time it’s very clearly symbolizing y’know the fascism of it all. Weirdly moving that Julian takes a moment to gently imply that the disease isn’t inherent in the people Garak loves and has loved (or in him, for that matter), but in the conditions that created them.

There’s so much going on here idk if I could start to pick it apart yet, I may need to let this percolate in my skull for a while before I know what to say haha. I think part of it is Garak telling Julian to never apologize for showing him the full truth of himself (not least because that also lets Garak see the full truth of himself in turn), and Julian finally relaxing about. Something. He’s been ashamed about something he can finally let go of.

‘I thought it was a dream, and kept asking myself what you were doing there’.......I will never emotionally recover from this I want to write fic specifically about this lord have mercy on me

- *Tain Voice* with your hippie bullshit and your women!

*tiny garak voice* woman…

Over the years we rarely met outside his office; only an emergency or drastic change of plan would alter the routine. Now as we walked through the late morning sun and pedestrians at a leisurely pace I experienced a connection to the surrounding bustle and energy in a way that felt almost normal. A father and his son taking a stroll. Tain was heavier, and I could hear his breathing labor with the effort. He’s an old man, I thought. He’s mortal. I’d never thought about Tain in this way, and I became protective as we approached an aggressive knot of pedestrians at the edge of the Coranum Sector. One man was about to run Tain down when I intercepted his path and bumped him to the side. I ignored his challenge as we continued. “Yes, Elim. I’m getting old.” It wasn’t the first time he picked up my thoughts; this was how our conversations usually went.

HE BECAME PROTECTIVE

You know the way he keeps touching Tain’s arm and shoulder in The Die is Cast, like he’s steadying him or about to step in front of him to protect him or something? Yeah… he burns his hands on this stove over and over and over but he can’t stop trying to touch it :(

This was so typical of his manipulation. Just moments ago I was feeling protective of this benign old man, my father. And now… the irony filled my mouth with a bitter taste.

This is always & forever first and foremost an Enabran Tain hate zone

He moved to the covered seating area, where the sun filtered through the old vegetation. I had never been here with anyone but Palandine. With a long sigh he settled into a patch of sunlight on the low bench.

He’s like a fucking strangle vine he just winds himself into every single part of garak’s existence and chokes the life out of it

“Yes,” I answered. The benign mask was slipping, and I began to see the depth of his anger.

. . .

“You don’t know!” he repeated with a disgust I hadn’t heard since I was a boy and failed to record all the details of one of our walks.

Oof. Ow. Ack.

“And all this while, instead of giving up your life to the work, hardening yourself into a leader who could inspire others and expand the vision, you’re playing out Hebitian fantasies with another man’s wife!”

“Yes. Just like Tolan!” I exploded. “Perhaps he was my real father after all.”

Tain rose like a man many years younger and grabbed my shoulder in a powerful grip. His anger was now a murderous fury and it was all I could do to hold my stance against the pain of his grip. His cold eyes told me I had betrayed him. Worse, I had failed him. He let go of my shoulder and turned away from me. My entire body trembled. When he turned back he had regained his composure.

The biggest sin Garak could commit in Tain’s eyes is to dare to separate himself from him in any way; to be anything but his mirror, to act as if he has any claim to his own soul. I feel like more than what happens with Barkan right after this, this is what Tain considers the real betrayal.

Tain has never needed to hit him or become physically violent with him to keep him under control ever since he was a very small child, he’s relied on the terrorizing force of emotional violence. And as is so often the case with emotional violence, it’s been insidious and hidden enough, kept to private spaces and in the shadows, that Tain can pretend at plausible deniability b/c like. Who’s Garak even going to tell about it, for the longest time, if a miracle happened and he even found he could? Mila, who has joined the war on emotional violence on the side of emotional violence since probably before Garak was even born? (For understandable psychological reasons, but in unforgivable ways in the role of a parent.) I wonder if ‘making him’ lose control and expose himself and his violence for what it is like this (in public, even!) is also part of what he can’t forgive Garak for. This ah ‘slip-up’ is the first big crack we see in Tain’s image of perfect implacable control (which is very much still the impression you’re left with in Garak’s stories in The Wire too), in the same way that Improbable Cause/The Die Is Cast completely breaks that image down. He is getting old. He stayed in the game too long in the end and his iron grip is starting to slip and everything he’s forced to stay in place starts to slip out of that order with it.

Characterizing what Tolan was doing as ‘living with another man’s wife’ is SUCH a subtle burn tho lol like yeah maybe after the strictures of our society you SHOULD have married the mother of your child instead of outsourcing all your decency to the said mother’s BROTHER, Tain

Aside from anything else going on here (and there is a lot going on)... does Tain even know who Garak is at all, just on a personal level? Why, after knowing him for like 40+ years at this point, presumably, would you expect him to have aspirations or the natural inclination towards leadership, have you ever met him??? He’s one of nature’s perfect right hand men (well. Maybe not entirely nature’s, Tain did this to him very deliberately on top of some basic natural tendencies lol), he’ll get you whatever you ask of him and I think organizing a team under him for you could be part of that when need be, but never has he shown the least inclination towards leadership. (In fact, despite longing for the recognition coming out on top would get him from daddy I mean his peers, he seems vaguely relieved each time Pythas gets to sit in the big important chair instead of him.) He isn’t Tain’s mirror, for all he dutifully tries to move in the ways that make it seem like he is. And Tain should be smart enough to know that, if the narcissism didn’t completely blot out his sight in this situation, and/or it’s just the ‘setting him up to fail and then acting outraged when he does’ pure maliciousness reaching its apex.

(In a kinder time and a kinder world I think Garak could have a real nice time being one of nature’s extremely devoted Partners rather than simply right hand man. And I would like to see it please)

“From now on you will report to Corbin Entek.”

Oh, that’s the Entek of Second Skin, probably. Wish you a very ‘get vaporized for not knowing when to quit’ in the future entek

As I watched him leave, I felt completely empty and wondered how I could feel such emptiness. This sudden, wrenching reversal of fortune … everything changed beyond recognition…. And yet … there was no anger, no self-pity … no fear. Only release. Release from the secrets. Release from the limbo where, ever since I was a boy, I had been trapped between imposed obligations and feelings of mysterious longing mixed with shame. I felt empty … and free.

Listen to that voice maybe garak (not that I think there IS any way out at this point or that there ever has been in truth, that’s kind of the tragedy of the whole thing, tain would never ever have let go of him)

- Mila goodbye time:

“I’m afraid we’re not leaving you much,” she said. “The furnishings have already been taken away.”

“I wasn’t expecting anything.” I tried to keep all irony out of my tone.

“It’s your choice, Elim.” Her voice was just as neutral. “The house is yours to live in.”

Mother and son having a Carefully Extremely Civil conversation lol

“Do you know the circumstances … Mila?”

She looked at me. It was the first real contact we’d had in many years. She nodded slowly.

“Before I make my ‘choice,’ I need your help,” I said, surprised that the request emerged so simply. I wasn’t as angry with her as I wanted to be. Mila saw this and softened perceptibly.

This running thread that almost despite himself he understands and empathizes with her and her situation too much to be as angry with her as he probably should be. He understands her better than she understands him (than she could allow herself to understand him, even if she had the ability to).

I think that these apparently contradictory elements of his personality are part of what makes him feel so real in some ways, too — interpersonally he can be incredibly petty and jealous and judgemental AND almost absurdly forgiving and generous, sometimes seemingly simultaneously, somehow. The classic containing multitudes meme but like forreals tho haha. That is what real people are like too.

“I love her, Mila.”

“You’re a grown man, Elim.” I couldn’t decide whether she thought I didn’t know this or was seeing it for the first time herself.

“And Palandine’s a grown woman,” I replied.

“I don’t care about her. It’s you! You have to learn…” She broke off and passed me a cup which exuded the herbal aroma I’ve always associated with her and Tolan. Bitterbark and sweet groundroot. Moist rich soil.

“To control myself?” Mila blew on her tea. I shrugged at the obvious irony; I didn’t want to get into a fight.

. . .

Mila sat on a bin and sipped her tea. She avoided my look. As I positioned another bin across from her, I experienced a deep pain in my shoulder. It was still throbbing.

“Tain’s angry … with me. He wants me never to see her again and … to kill Barkan.” Still she avoided looking at me. “But you know this, don’t you? And you know what’s possible. Because you have your own … thoughts about this. Don’t you Mila?” I persisted.

Again she jerked away from me. Tea from her cup slopped onto the floor. “There’s no time, Elim.” She put the cup down, wiped her hands on the protective smock she wore, and looked for something to clean the floor with. “There’s no time for this.”

The mother/child relationship here is… y’know I talk a lot about Garak’s daddy issues for obvious reasons, but the fact that his mother recoils in fear when he tries to engage some sliver of real emotional intimacy with her prrrrrobably did some similar amounts of shaping him huh haha. (and he does this too in many ways — that’s partially where his trouble with Julian comes from in this book, whenever Julian tries to get too close Garak flinches away or counterattacks, for all that he clearly longs for it as well.)

The roundabout way you can tell her love for him even so tho. ‘I don’t care about her’. Palandine is not her baby, Elim, you are. Mila hasn’t been left with the luxury of love to spare for someone she doesn’t even know when you’re setting yourself up for destruction right in front of her eyes….

“I mean it, Mila. I would. But I think about her, feel her, all the time. Especially when I’m alone.”

Palandine/Bashir parallels once more and I really mean it!! There used to be a little Palandine in his head the way there’s a little Julian in there now. (and sadly she doesn’t seem to be there anymore, or maybe he’s just integrated what he got from her and let the rest go for both of their sakes, the same way he let Mila the regnar go when it was time.)

“Sacrifices?” In frustration Mila took off her smock to wipe the tea from the floor. “Elim, you amaze me.” Shaking her head, she got down on her knees and began scrubbing vigorously, as if the spilled drops of tea were hostile agents capable of spreading disease and destruction.

“Really? Well, I’m pleased I still have the ability—”

“Sacrifices,” she hissed, her control escaping like steam from a narrow rift. “What was the name of that book you once gave me? When you first came back from Bamarren. The one you proclaimed as the greatest Cardassian novel ever written and insisted that we read it.” Mila was still on her knees, but now I was the offending spot she vigorously rubbed with her words and eyes. “Generations of one family, each faced with the same choice at a crucial moment. Do they serve their personal needs or do they serve future generations? Do they choose the comfort of their own lives over the life of the state and its mission? I read it, Elim. You told me to and I did.”

“The Never-Ending Sacrifice,” I answered.

“Yes. That’s the one.” She made a sighing sound as she stood up. Mila was heavier now, and moved with greater deliberation. She, too, had grown old. “I suggest you reread it.”

“Tain always came first, didn’t he? I suppose that was your never-ending sacrifice.” I no longer reined in the irony.

I’m CRYING this is SUCH a mom thing to do. Her teen son came home with a book he waxed poetic about and she read it to try to understand him and never told him until now.

Also: disease contagion theme thread! To Mila, it seems to be tied in with the sentiment reading of it — the way her child’s suffering stains all her safe stable justifications and rationalizations that she needs to stay alive in this system. The remaining humanity that can’t be completely stamped out, even by Tain and a lifetime of fuckery. The ‘imperfections’ of life that can’t be subsumed completely into order.

Garak I think it’s better if you don’t recommend that book to people it clearly leads to disappointing interpersonal outcomes every time haha

“Tolan understood and accepted his obligations,” Mila said coldly. “But he was sentimental. Like you. That was the one thing Enabran worried about.”

I smiled in sad recognition. Sentimental. Yes, Tain and Mila had definitely shared their confidences and judgments with each other.

“But I don’t blame Tolan. He was a good man.” Mila watched me as I rose.

“Yes. So you keep saying.” I wanted to leave.

“She’s nothing but trouble for you, Elim. End it now. Do what Enabran says and reclaim your rightful place.”

“My place,” I repeated.

“Now, Elim. Otherwise you’re in real danger,” she warned with a certainty that reminded me of the time she’d brought me to Tain after I’d left Bamarren. Mila always knew what was at the heart of the never-ending sacrifice.

“Thank you for your help,” I said, too weary for irony.

“What did you expect from me?”

“To be honest, I can’t remember,” I answered. “Have a pleasant trip.” I smiled and bowed.

“What did you expect from me?”/“To be honest, I can’t remember,” is THE realest description I’ve seen of a mother/child relationship. This might say more about me than I should be comfortable with probably but still.

“Let Limor know if you’ll be living here.” I nodded. Yes, I thought, that would be my answer. My choice. She shook out her smock to determine whether or not to put it back on.

“Mila.” She looked at me and took a deep breath, as if preparing herself for my question.

“Who was Tolan?”

“My brother.” She decided to wear the smock, and I left.

I am SO FUCKING SAD. She puts the smock back on. That’s the closest thing to keeping either of them she gets to have, just the second hand reminder that they were there, small and innocuous enough that no one will know and no one can blame her. In the end Tain takes everything else, and she lets him because it’s the only way to survive him. GET OUT OF THERE ELIM PLEASE

- On an impulse, instead of leaving immediately, I went down the corridor to Tain’s old office. The door was open, and I stopped at the threshold just as Pythas looked up from a now much cleaner desk. He smiled shyly and stood up.

“Please come in, Elim,” he offered. What surprised me was how pleased I was to see him. Just as I had felt he was the only other person who deserved to be One Lubak, I now believed he was the only other person who deserved to occupy this office.

He smiled shyly did he fhskja. Also Garak’s enduring lack of bitterness towards Pythas is amazing. ‘Yeah I would be mad but he really is that good if it had to be anyone it should be him’

- She stopped just short of my covering shrub, and the sight of her face shocked me. It was swollen and bruised. One eye was completely closed, and the other contained enough pain for ten. It took every bit of my willpower not to reach out and hold her. Her one eye held mine, I knew she wanted to tell me something so important that she was willing to wait all night if necessary.

I’m so fucking glad Barkan is about to eat it for good. I only wish it could have gone slower and more painfully for him.

I wanted to laugh, and it took a concerted effort to gather my disparate parts in order to integrate my will.

‘Disparate parts’ motif (dare we say mosaic motif?) detected

“At least the smile’s gone,” the first voice said. I was fully awake now.

Barkan’s life is just being haunted by fifty shades of Garak’s shit eating grin apparently

“Flaunting your ‘relationship’ in public like infatuated schoolchildren.”

“Yes, I suppose it would have been wiser to behave like experienced adulterers,” I replied with a sigh.

“You’re the lowest form of scavenger, Elim. You have no attachments of your own, and so you feed on the emotional vulnerabilities of others.

. . .

“But you’re a failure, Elim. You even failed in your attempt to assassinate me.”

“I didn’t fail with Palandine,” I said quietly.

LMAO gottem

The chemical makeup of Garak’s brain during Barkan’s beating should probably have been studied by science it must be the strangest rave in there

The others were there—my fellow travelers, their voices murmuring tonelessly, producing a steady sound that permeated the medium and intensified our connection. Their voices speaking to me. Their faces, serene and loving, illuminating the darkness as they floated by. Everyone I have ever known. Family. Faces from childhood. Bamarren. People I had known briefly. People I have known forever. Loved. Hated. We were all just together now, sharing the same nurturing medium as we traveled along our currents until we gradually separated.

This… near-death hallucination or spiritual experience or whatever it is vs. his mass grave dream later… very birth vs. death themed

Faces formed and reformed. Each one superimposed on the next in a long line emerging from blackness. Maladek. Merrok…. The molecular structure of one giving way to the next…. Procal Dukat. Tolan. Floating into focus, receding back into the darkness. I shook my head, trying to stop the flow. The Hebitian mask. My face. I grabbed my “face” and screamed into it. The flow stopped. The molecules rushed together and instantly formed Barkan Lokar’s death mask.

I think maybe something came a tiny little bit completely untethered in his head in a way it’s been threatening to for a long time in this moment. It may just be my imagination tho who’s to say

- “Elim Garak. How the mighty have fallen. Welcome to Terok Nor.”

“Oh, I try to visit even our humblest outposts, Dukat.”

“This is going to be more than a visit, trust me. You’ll soon wish that the execution had not been commuted.”

a) ah garak/dukat sniping my old friend b) It seems Tain never spoke to him in that whole process, so that time in the park was probably the last time before ‘Improbable Cause’?. I’m only surprised he didn’t give Dukat the neutral face of displeasure to convey to Garak second hand honestly

- “I’m sure you gave him a more ennobling position,” I said.

“He was executed,” the toady replied.

“A promotion of sorts,” I muttered. “Certainly in this place.”

The passionate enduring Garak/Terok Nor hateship off to an immediate and roaring start

- Real ‘he gave them the heebie jeebies. He had nothing else left to give’ vibes on garak in this part of his life

- He arched his brows in a manner that told me he’d worked long and hard in front of a mirror.

There’s always time to appreciate some good Dukat dunking

“Your life means nothing to me. Just as my father’s meant nothing to you.”

“I beg your pardon? Do I know your father?” Dukat made a move to grab me and immediately stopped himself. I was impressed by his self-control; I knew how much energy fueled his hatred.

“No offense,” I went on, further testing his control. “Of course, Procal Dukat was a famous military figure. We all mourned his passing. But I never had the pleasure personally….”

At his most miserable, but also his funniest. It IS really interesting that his humor only really reaches its current state here, when he’s lost Palandine and everything else in his life. It’s almost like the only remaining way to be close to her.

No, I decided that I was not going to sacrifice myself to Dukat’s desire for revenge. I would do this work; I would do it so well as to become indispensable to the station… and I would survive. I refused to be buried alive in this humiliation.

‘Sort of suicidal: yes; willing to go down in history as one of Dukat’s Ws… fuck no’

- I pick up their garments and mend them flawlessly. When they complain that the price is steep (because I’m treated like a slave doesn’t mean I’m going to start undervaluing my work), I just give them the smile—the smile she taught me.

Fdsahfasj hilarious. You go Garak you know your worth

- (About Pythas and Palandine) At this moment I am almost afraid to discover that they’d survived. A part of me has wanted to bury that part of my life. The defenses I set up to survive my exile are obviously still intact.

I am often joined on my walks by Dr. Parmak. He’s a charming conversationalist, with a first-rate mind. His perspectives are always provocative. He does, however, have a tendency to proselytize for Alon Ghemor and the “Reunion Project” (the name they’ve given their group to remind people of the principles that formed the original Union). Whenever we encounter other pedestrians along our route, Parmak engages them and attempts to win them over to the Reunion side. This often makes for spirited exchanges, and although I am subjected to the opinions of people who should be given a new brain, I rather enjoy this peripatetic politicking. It’s something I would never have done on my own. In some respects he is so much like you, Doctor. If I’ve found someone’s opinion insufferably boring, he’ll kindly but sternly lecture me on the value of tolerance.

The wistful longing of ‘in some respects he’s so much like you’. ‘Although i am subjected to the opinions of people who should be given a new brain’. ‘Charming conversationalist’, is he. Garak you are a nonsense person and I adore you

One day I asked him how he had been brought to Enabran Tain’s attention. He never struck me as being a dangerous radical. It turns out that he was Tain’s personal physician, and that the great man had him interrogated because, the Doctor assumed, “he was concerned that I was in an ideal position to assassinate him.”

“I think he was more threatened by the fact that you were intimate with his weaknesses,” I pointed out.

“Well, certainly his physical infirmities,” he admitted.

“Which are also a man’s weaknesses,” I reminded him.

“The paranoia, the secrets, the power he held….” The doctor shook his head. “He must have been a difficult man to work for.” I smiled at his understated tact.

“He once tried to have me killed,” I said.

“Really? What did you do, Elim?”

“I survived.” The Doctor gave me a confused look.

“Survived … what?” he asked.

“Working for my father,” I replied. The Doctor stopped and just looked at me. His former fear of my eyes was long gone.

“A father who would murder his own son?” The idea horrified him. We were in the Barvonok Sector, where the tall structures of business and finance once dominated. “Oh, my dear Elim,” he said, this time with an empathy that stripped me of any illusions I had about Enabran Tain as a father. Surrounded by the piles of debris, oppressed by the low leaden sky, I finally began to surrender to the loneliness and loss that has preyed upon my dreams ever since I can remember. Even nothing is better than the ideas that have brought us here.

Go on without me I’ll be over here crying my eyes out

- I wonder if Limor Prang was one of the people killed in Tain’s Obsidian Order purge in Improbable Cause. If he was still alive that seems pretty likely huh. Well. RIP terrifying team mom I guess.

- Garak got his business up and running for real through a deal with Quark! Puts some of their interactions into perspective haha

I don’t do well with the kind of emotional exchanges humans seem to engage in regularly, and I have little sympathy for those who confuse the responsibilities of family with their duty to the state; but I confess that I am deeply moved by this woman’s plight.

Well it’s good the guy you have a thing for was raised British then he’ll probably feel pretty much the same way you’re perfect for each other

At one point she looked at me and asked me to hold her. I did. As I tentatively put my arms around her, I was so afraid of her need that I tried to keep her body at a distance. She would have none of it. She collapsed against me, and the sobs that convulsed and rolled through her body found correspondence in mine. I bit my tongue until I could taste blood in the effort not to surrender. Gratefully, the door to the Promenade was closed.

He keeps claiming he doesn’t care for the human tendency towards displays of emotionality even as we see it draw him in like a stupid horny sentimental moth to the flame repeatedly. The lizard doth protest too much methinks

- Unless I have business I rarely go to Quark’s; I have little tolerance for noise and stupidity. So when he saw me he assumed that I had another proposition, and I observed him shift into his engage mode.

Fun to see how this changes over the years, then! By the ca. Season 7 part of the book he has a few regular tables and everything. Also isn’t it so sweet that his kind of snotty attitude about this has not changed at all since Bamarren haha <3

- “The dead are dead. Those of us left—who believe in the ideals that have guided our race for millennia—are faced with the threat of utter annihilation by the very disease that has brought us to this sad place. Federation ideas will finish the work the Dominion began.”

Disease/contagion imagery (This is Legate Parn speaking, and he’s basically espousing the same view as Dukat Sr. As far as he’s concerned the call is not and never has been coming from inside the house thank you ever so much lol)

On the other side of Madred was Nal Dejar, a sharp-faced, saturnine woman who had been a member of my last cell at the Order. She once came to Deep Space 9 on an assignment with two scientists, and refused to make any contact with me. Judging from her averted look, she was still refusing. Next to her was a man with a severely disfigured face that was still recovering from what appeared to be burns. One eye was completely covered, and I was careful not to be rude in my inspection.

OH so it’s the lady who came along with Gilora and Ulani! The one who does not care for foreign food

Gul Ocett was persuasive in her quiet and reasoned strength. Indeed, the irony, Doctor, is that she was espousing the very argument I had made to you any number of times. Even now there was a part of me that accepted the logic of her argument, especially when coming from someone who was neither a fool nor an opportunist.

While you were stealth mentoring Julian in having enough spysmarts not go and get his beautiful twink ass killed at the first opportunity he was stealth mentoring you in the political and ideological underpinnings of democracy and the possibility of being loved BITCH!!!!

I simply smiled at him, genuinely amused by his amateur attempts to discredit me. I was surprised by my responses. I was here to play the role of double agent, and I found that as the meeting went on I didn’t have the energy for the requisite guile and misdirection.

Fdkjfhdsa ‘Aw. That’s cute’. He just doesn’t have it in him to work up the energy for cloak and dagger bullshit and it’s so good and so funny

And then a strange sensation went through me, Doctor. I looked at the faces of these people. Here we are, I thought, sitting in the basement of a ruined civilization and conducting business as if nothing significant had changed. The enemies were still the same, somewhere “out there,” plotting how to “destroy our character” and colonize us with their political system. And we were down in the basement with our own plots and shifting alliances, tenaciously holding on to the very ideas that had brought us here. But what ideas, Doctor? There’s nothing left. Only fantasies of power. These faces with their masks. With the ironic exception of the disfigured face, the masks hadn’t changed. They reflected the usual range of hidden agendas, each competing for dominance and ascendancy with an energy commensurate to the amount of fear and self-loathing that fueled and motivated that person. I started to laugh.

Amazing showstopping revolutionary good for you Garak

It was him, Doctor. It was Pythas.

EIGHT MY BELOVED WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE

“Thank you, Gul Madred, but I can find my way out.” I bowed to the company, and turned my back on them.

I continue to be so proud of him I have no words. And also this is why I don’t like Castellan Garak as a concept AT ALL. Leave him alone to his orchids and sewing and doctor fucking he’s been through enough he doesn’t need that in his life anymore he can do other things to help. Parmak and Julian would stage an intervention.

- Oh my GOD the cardassians literally just left terok nor without him overnight like Sid’s family in Ice Age fhdskjafh

Garak has been combining the wire AND being a barely functional alcoholic all this time. So at any given time in the first two season the chances that he is not only high but also profoundly drunk are overwhelmingly likely. This explains a lot.

Rom had a sensitivity, almost a delicacy that was totally lacking in his brother. Was there such a thing as a typical Ferengi? Most people judged him to be simple, as if simplicity was somehow a substandard quality.

Aw. Also maybe some hints as to his reconciliation with Tolan’s memory.

“Well, Rom, the trousers and tunic fit quite well, don’t you think?” I pulled the tunic down at the back. “Don’t wear it so far up on the neck; it ruins the line. And I’d be grateful if you’d tell any interested parties that indeed I’m still here and very much open for business.”

“Oh, yes … yes! And I like….” Rom made a broad, awkward gesture toward his new ensemble. I thanked him, and we walked out onto the Promenade, as if it were just another business day. We said goodbye, and I watched him march proudly through the ragged celebrants. I had a fondness for him. It was an odd relief, especially at this moment, to converse with someone who literally meant everything he said.

T________________________T surprise most wholesome dynamic continues to wreck me.

He stood for a moment, studying me, trying to divine why I had not been allowed to join the withdrawal. Unlike the others who assumed that because I was a Cardassian I had a choice, Odo knew that I’d been abandoned.

“Was there any damage or theft?” he asked.

“No,” I answered. I knew little about Constable Odo, but I was confident that he would never ask me questions that went beyond his function as security chief. He kept his distance and carried himself like someone who understood exile.

Odo appreciation moment as this is his last appearance in the book. Here’s to the small part of the fascist hivemind that harnessed those impulses towards the aim of becoming the world’s best and beigest mall cop. Unproblematic? No. But sometimes you simply love a good problem.

The fact that the narrative of this section ends right before Garak meets Julian. Probably a matter of weeks, max. You big sentimental sap lmao

- Parmak, Ghemor, and I stood silently among the formations, inspecting the results of our work in the first light.“I mean no disrespect, Elim,” the Doctor said, “but the memorial looks even better.” I nodded in agreement.

“Please, Doctor,” I replied. “ ‘Restoration’ is fine for artifacts and museum pieces. When it comes to building a new community, I think what we did tonight is more to the point.”

“And we did it without murdering each other,” Ghemor added.

“How un-Cardassian of us,” I observed.

This all rules btw . Restoration is fine for artifacts and museum pieces it’s not for things that are alive. Gardener vs. architect/collector, Tolan vs. Tain.

Alon said: “I think we should get some rest before the competition begins. We’ve done what we can.” It was a wise suggestion, but each of us knew that we were taking a step into the unknown, and sleep at this point was not really a choice. We had done what we could, and probably it was best if each of us retired to the privacy of his own thoughts. We said our goodnights, and as I watched them leave I felt an enormous gratitude that I had been given the opportunity to work with these men. Once again in my life I felt that I had been resurrected from the dead.

Nodding and crying gif. Yeah. Yeah… you’ve done all you could and no one could ask anything more of you.

- “You know, Elim, I’m neither a soldier nor a politician. I’m a doctor.”

“I do know that. I also know that we’ve been betrayed by our previous leaders. Our only hope is that men like yourself can offer an alternative.”

“But you have the expertise that can….”

“Doctor, I have the expertise that comes from survival and compromise. There’s already plenty of that on the other side … and it’s not an alternative that will create a new and lasting union.”

“No, I suppose you’re right,” he conceded.

“You’re a doctor, yes, and that’s your strength. I’ve learned something about your profession over the past several years. Don’t think like a politician. Think of the planet as a patient barely hanging on to life. Think like a doctor. How would you save this planet?” He considered what I’d said in his careful manner.

Just as it is vital for a person like Garak to have a little Julian Bashir who lives in his head, it’s probably also good for the Bashirs and Parmaks of the world to develop a little Garak who lives in their heads to go ‘yeah that sounds real nice in theory but now imagine that there are in fact bad people in this world (I should know) who’ll interact with that theory and then act accordingly’ . Garak realizing where he belongs in this whole process tho…

“Ah, Doctor,” I stopped him. “You can’t go to your meeting like that.”

“Like what?” he asked with a puzzled look. Without explaining, I helped him out of his worn outer coat and showed him a ragged tear in the fabric. Despite his protests, I made him sit down and wait while I gathered my sewing kit and repaired the tear.

“Appearances are very important to these people. You can’t let them think you’re oblivious to details,” I said, as I reunited the torn and separated threads.

The Mila fussing-as-a-love language of it all…

- (About Pythas) The thought occurred to me that perhaps I should include him in a chant for the dead.

DAMN but also YEAH

- I moved to the constructed formation that stood in the space formerly occupied by Tain’s study and almost directly above where Mila’s body had been sadly abandoned in the basement. When I was a boy, I had unending dreams that centered around the memorials of Tarlak. As I lay on my pallet in the basement of Tain’s house, I would plan the scenario that would play out when Tolan took me with him to Tarlak. It would always involve me as the hero paying homage to a comrade fallen in a battle where we had both distinguished ourselves. I would tell the gathered assembly of notables every detail of the battle; people would weep, cheer, listen in stunned amazement as I explained how we had saved the Union from certain destruction. When I had finished, Mila and Tolan would escort me through the adoring crowd. What a terrible irony, Doctor, that those forbidding, impersonal memorials to the heroes of the Cardassian Union should ultimately become transformed into these ragged formations on the grounds of my childhood home … and that I would sit here, a middle-aged man, trying to mourn a fallen comrade who was still standing but barely recognizable. And yet, the irony of a Cardassia reborn with the help of a memorial built from the remains of Tain’s home didn’t escape me either.

Taking immense psychic damage with every word. When do you stop wanting your mom and dad to come pick you up and take you home, even when they’re both dead and kind of not your parents anymore in two different ways even before that? Never, probably

- “What changed your mind?”

“Your friends, Elim. Very impressive people … and persuasive.”

“What had you expected?” I asked.

“The usual amateurs who never understood what was at stake … the hard choices that had to be made,” [Pythas] explained. “To be honest, I had thought your attachment to this Reunion Project was….”

“Sentimental,” I finished. He smiled knowingly at the reference.

CACKLING. All but openly saying ‘yeah I thought it’s was because you’re fucking the doctor and I know exactly what a god-awful simp you are’ fhskdjafhaskjdh

“As I listened to him speak of the responsibility that we had as survivors to the life that remained, I also realized how bitter and hardened I had become.” He stopped and looked back to Nal Dejar, as if he were making sure she was still there. She met his eyes with a communication I couldn’t decipher, and he nodded. “Nal nursed me back to where I could function … part of me wished she hadn’t. Until your doctor spoke about healing … on every level. It’s what the body wants, he told us … unless we choose otherwise.” Pythas sat with his head bowed for a long moment. “I’d become very bitter, Elim.” I sat on a rock across from him and gently put my hand on his. What was it about this place, I wondered.

Hmngh. ‘I’d become very bitter, Elim’. No matter what choices they made along the way, where they fucked up or where they did everything right, they both ended up in basically the same place, embittered and broken, until someone touched their life with kindness. Nal is Pythas’ Julian Bashir. Coming back to life not as an act of will but because there’s someone waiting for you there saying ‘I’ll help you through it’.

“Do you know where Palandine is?” I asked. He just looked at me. “Is she still alive?”

In the darkness, it was difficult to read the expression in his one good eye. The silence that followed my question was broken only by his rasping breath. Behind her mask of disinterest Nal Dejar was studying me carefully. Even when she was a probe I was impressed by the strength of her focus. Pythas was fortunate to have her care and devotion.

I think Pythas and Nal Dejar’s whole deal could make for a really interesting story all on its own. Presumably they’ve known or at least known about each other for a long time now, since Garak has seen Nal around even though they’ve never worked together closely

- Just enough light for lovers; just enough light to begin he says, only to open the next chapter/epilogue with ‘My dear Doctor’ and explaining how he finally decided to send the letter. Healing on every level? Maybe? If we’re real lucky???

- My dear Doctor:

Again, forgive my further tardiness in sending this—I don’t even know what to call it. Memoirs of a Cardassian tailor? I suppose that’s as accurate a description as any. You see, Doctor, I seriously debated whether or not I should send this to you. As I went over it I wondered who this mawkish and self-serving person was. Grow up! I wanted to tell him. Get on with your life.

Well, I am; and sending this to you is going to further that cause. As I said, I’m an unfinished man reassembling the pieces of a broken world, and I have asked you to be a witness because you would never judge me as harshly as I judge myself. You would never deny me the opportunity of a second chance.

I feel like those last two sentences are the most important ones in this whole book — it’s what all the rest of it is built on, what made any of it possible. And also it will haunt me for the rest of my days but like in a good life-affirming way lol

His playful grousing about ugh your vaunted democracy *eyeroll* <3<3<3<3 come down to cardassia so you can have spirited debates turned makeout sessions/foreplay about it already julian please he’s setting you up for so many slam dunks here

I live with my orchids, which have unified and softened the increasingly popular grounds of my home. Their beguiling blooms, and the presence of children who come to play among the structures (as I did in Tarlak), help to dispel the somber mood that initially hung like those clouds of dust over our world. The sounds of their voices as they play function as a music that never fails to lighten my work. The children call it the “tailor’s grounds,” and the name has caught on. Yes, Doctor, I continue to work at my “new” profession. As you can imagine, there’s a good deal of mending to be done.

TAIN’S HOUSE TURNED INTO JUST ‘THE TAILOR’S GROUNDS’ BY THE VOICES OF PLAYING CHILDREN Y_____Y I hope enabran ‘let history be my judge’ tain gets forgotten for anything but his massive fuckup and that garak works some magic with what little fabric he has at his disposal to make the neighbourhood kids like. Stuffed toys he sews clothes for and he’s known as the person to go to when one is damaged so he can patch it back up good as new while teary little faces watch intently and then brighten. Julian seriously pretends to be his medical consultant as they perform teddy bear operations, what with his extensive expertise in the field and excellent bedside manner. No arm is too amputated to be reattached and we can always find a good button to replace Mr. Tinny’s missing eye in fact he’ll see even better now. I have such hopes for them I have such dreams

I have expanded my shed in the never-ending quest to find my place. I feel that I’m getting closer, Doctor, especially as I continue to refine the structures. One, which began as a memorial to Tolan, has a crude but effective representation of the winged creature from the Hebitian sun disc—turned toward the radiating sun, reaching, striving, while the sun-fed filaments stream down from the body and connect with the bodies of people standing on a globe and looking up to the creature for this divine connection…. I’ve attached the recitation mask he gave me to the creature’s face, and somehow it has become my personal totem. I hope that someday you’ll have the opportunity to see it. Nothing would please me more. You’re always welcome, Doctor.

You are always welcome, Doctor is one of those ‘you could slap that on my gravestone and I’d be happy about it’ lines. What a ride huh

Aside from anything else about this book (I think we can safely let this absolute monster of a three part reaction post be testament to my enjoyment and admiration right I hope I have made no secret of it lol) I want to congratulate Andrew Robinson for getting a novel-length character study written in first person (my beloved) published — as I understand it that’s normally a pretty hard sell in the publishing industry haha he was living the dream I one day fervently hope to as well and the results rule

#a stitch in time #asit #garashir #elim garak #star trek #star trek ds9 #ds9 #julian bashir #The great ASIT first read adventure #ds9 meta #and there we go! now to think about the little julian bashir that lives in garak's head forever probably

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