#no more comms please! thank you thank you! but I’d like to finish these before getting some More!

[vacantgodling]

commissions are OPEN!

i’ve been meaning to make a tumblr friendly version of my commissions page on ko-fi for some time now, and guess who finally got around to it! if you would please take the time to reblog even if you’re unable to buy so it can reach more people that would be amazing thank you 💛

link to ko-fi is here

if you would like to order directly from me vs an affiliate website, then feel free to DM me here on tumblr and we’ll go from there :)

some basic TOS:

i have the right to refuse any commission i don’t want to work on. i won’t draw the usual suspects but i also won’t draw furry or mecha (i’m not confident in my abilities on those—maybe one day lol).

nsfw is okay but these commissions you have to order directly from me & not through ko-fi. please message me first if you’re looking for a specific kink to see if i’m comfortable with doing that

i always send a sketch before the product is finished to make sure that i have any major details and edits down. i’d really prefer if you didn’t ask to make changes after the fact 😭please provide either an email, tumblr, or discord so i can send you the sketch and communicate anything about ur commission!

there is no price difference between B&W or colored drawings

my humble offerings:

pay what you want (pwyw) -> $1USD — ???

these comms are simple; you can pay me whatever you want to fill your request, the only catch is the style and the quality is up to my personal digression. the quality won’t change if you pay me more or less money, you’re literally just letting me do whatever i want lol.

by purchasing a pwyw you’re acknowledging and agreeing to the fact that i can give you whatever quality of art i want. if you want a more quality controlled commission, or if you’re looking for something specific, please check out my other comms. i’ll block/blacklist you if after i give you one of these you bitch about the quality since, freedom is what you paid for lol.

icons & busts -> $10USD

time frame: 2-3 days

feel free to specify size, colored or uncolored. add $5USD for every extra character.

sketches -> $15USD

time frame: 2 to 4 days

any full body work that includes posing but in its first-step state. pose reference or detailed explanation required. there is no price difference between color or black and white. add $10USD for extra characters

full illustration -> $50USD

time frame: 3 days to 1 week

any full body work that includes posing. pose reference or a detailed explanation of what you’re looking for required. there is no price difference between color/b&w

add $25USD per every extra character. for a detailed background add $50USD

character page -> $150USD

time frame: 2-4 weeks

multiple illustrations to give a full overview of a character. base amount is 3 character drawings + 1 object of your choice. one character per page.

more than 3 character drawings = add $50USD per extra character drawing

#commissions #commissions open #artblr #artists on tumblr #boost #ren art

[skymaiden32]

Flight of the Duchess

AO3 link here

Fandom: Thunderbirds

Tagging: @dragonoffantasyandreality @thundergeek59 @janetm74 @katblu42 @liseylou @amistrio @uniwolfcorn (Please ask if you would like to be updated when I update or write new stories)

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

------

“-enny…” Everything was so dark. Everything hurt. She felt like she barely recognised the person calling her name. How long had she been out? That the boys had been able to fly out here?

“-ady!” Parker’s panicked voice barely cut through. She was probably scaring them. Her eyes felt like they were glued shut, but she persevered. Her body felt like lead as she struggled to sit up, finally forcing her eyes open. One by one, her surroundings swam into focus until Thunderbird Two’s medical bay was clear as crystal in front of her. She groaned.

“Easy, now.” Virgil said in a tone that could get even the most stubborn of patients to calm down. “You were hit pretty hard back there…”

“W-What are you…” She couldn’t even finish the question.

Virgil grinned knowingly. “Oh, Parker contacted base the second he found you unconscious in that room. We were already on a rescue elsewhere in the country, so we weren’t far.”

Penny sighed in relief. That meant she likely hadn’t been out for that long. Still, couldn’t hurt to ask. “How long?”

The medic understood immediately. “Only a little while.” He explained. “I’m just wondering who managed to take you down, of all people…”

The agent froze. “You mean you don’t know?”

“No. Whoever it was had disappeared with the ship ages before we arrived, and we were so worried about you that we didn’t get to ask anyone what they looked like. Scott’s checking in with Dad to see what our next course of action is.” Virgil shook his head, frown deepening. “Why?” Penelope’s face said it all. “Penny, who was it?” He was almost too afraid to ask.

“Just…” Penelope started. “Be glad that Scott isn’t in pursuit right now…”

“Lady Penelope?” Parker prompted, arms folded in worry.

Time to get it over with. “It was Agent Omega…” She tried not to cry. “They have the Duchess of Royston.”

Virgil’s eyes flew open in a mix of fear and concern. “Shoot…” He opened a line to his eldest brother immediately. “Scott, don’t you dare take off. I’m handling this…”

Thunderbird One’s pilot was more than a little confused. “Virgil, what-”

“I’ll explain later! I’m handing Penny and Parker off to you. Don’t let them out of your sight!”

“Okay, but I’d still like to know just what is going on here!” Scott put as much authority into his tone as possible. 

“There’s no time…” Virgil frowned, switching off the comms. He knew he’d pay for that later, but he didn’t care right now. He wanted to keep his brother and his friends away from the Hood’s agent at all costs. He herded the two agents out of Thunderbird Two, pointing them in the direction of the transport’s sister ship. “Don’t tell him anything. Please…” He practically begged.

Penelope gave him a look. “You know we can’t promise that Virgil.” She put her hands on her hips, staring the pilot down. “But we’ll try…”

“Thank you.” Virgil disappeared from view as the Pod door slid shut. With nothing else they could possibly do now, Penelope and Parker simply exchanged a look, making their way over to Thunderbird One, where Scott’s expectant form was waiting for them.

“Are you two okay?” The eldest Tracy brother asked, briefly checking them over. In the background, Thunderbird Two’s jets blasted the ground beneath them. Scott frowned at confirmation of his younger brother’s departure, watching the transport lift slowly off the ground. Once she was in the air, she would be a lot faster. Faster than most people would expect her to be. Maybe fast enough to catch up to the experimental jet Scott knew Virgil would try to tail, but he just couldn’t be sure. Which begged the question… “Now, are either of you going to tell me why Thunderbird Two’s after them and not One?”

“We promised not to say…” Parker explained, and his employer nodded.

Scott sighed in defeat. He clearly wasn’t going to get an answer any time soon…

------

Virgil should’ve expected this. He really should’ve expected this. There was no sign of the stolen plane, or the hostage and criminal within it. He’d lost them. He could’ve sworn. 

Whether the mission failure was because Thunderbird Two was too slow or something else entirely, he didn’t know. What he did know, however, was that Scott was going to kill him. He should’ve just been honest with his brother, but he’d just wanted to protect him, and his worry had clouded his thoughts. 

It was rare that he made an error like this. So rare that he hoped Scott and Dad wouldn’t be too hard on him. There was nothing he could do now.

He sighed, about to turn the plane around, when he managed to catch a glimpse of something. His eyes flew open as he got closer, mood suddenly lightening. “Come aboard, your Grace…” Virgil gestured to her, opening up the Pod doors once he set down. At least one thing had gone their way today. The comm link to Thunderbird One was reopened. “Hey, Scott…” He began nervously. 

“Virgil.” The younger brother feared for his life. That was Scott’s smotherhen tone. Which meant only one thing. He knew. “Parker cracked. You better not be hurt, or I swear…” 

“Scott, I’m fine.” Virgil said quickly. “I didn’t find the plane, but I did find the Duchess. Omega must’ve dropped her when they didn’t need leverage anymore.” The relief on the other end of the line was palpable. “We’re coming back now.”

Scott huffed, not impatiently. “Good. Because you are in so much trouble for this…”

“Oh, trust me…” Virgil chuckled nervously, making his way down to the Pod to guide the Duchess up to the cockpit. “I know.”

------

Jefferson Tracy’s stare was legendary. Even his children weren’t immune to it’s effects. Virgil stood rigid in front of his father’s desk as Scott stood to the side, both in full uniform. Penelope watched from the sofa, sandwiched between Tin-Tin and Gordon as John leaned against it. The link to Thunderbird Five was well and truly open, Alan’s worried expression being the main thing you’d notice. Parker stood faithfully next to Kyrano behind them. Brains and Grandma occupied some nearby chairs. No-one was smiling. This was no laughing matter.

“So let me get this straight. You took unauthorised charge of the mission and went in pursuit of a dangerous criminal who was holding someone hostage, when you knew Thunderbird One was the more logical choice to follow. And as a result, you lost the stolen plane…” Virgil nodded, feeling slightly timing under his father’s gaze. Jeff’s eyes narrowed. “You’re beyond lucky that you’re my son, Virgil, and you were looking out for your brother, otherwise I’d be being a lot harder on you.”

Virgil sighed. “I know Father, and I can’t apologise enough. The second I heard it was Omega, all I knew was that I had to keep him as far away from Scott as possible…”

“And no-one appreciates that more than I do.” Scott put a hand on his shoulder. “But pursuit is one of the reasons we have Thunderbird One. You know that. No matter how I may feel about coming face to face with Omega again, it’s part of my job description to follow them.” He huffed in amusement. “Not yours…”

“I’m sorry Scott…”

“Hey, it’s okay.” The elder brother wrapped the younger into a tight hug. “You got the Duchess back. She’s home safe now. That’s the main thing. Just don’t do it again…”

Virgil chuckled lightly. “Not a chance…”

Jeff cleared his throat, bringing the boy's attention back to him. He couldn’t hide his smile as he watched his sons. “Virgil, as your father, I have to say that you are beyond grounded. No leaving the house except for missions. And no games room for you. I’ll lift the ban in a week.”

He’d take that. “And…” Virgil prompted. “As my Commander?”

Jeff smirked. “You’re scrubbing Thunderbird Three’s hangar top to bottom tomorrow, if there’s no rescues to attend to.”

“Of course…” 

“N-now that that’s out the w-way,” Brains started, “what a-about the stolen p-plane? The H-Hood’s bound to have i-it by now.”

Everyone exchanged worried looks. “Guess we’ll just have to wait and see…”

#thunderbirds #thunderbirds 1965 #thunderbirds fanfiction #thunderfam #lady penelope creighton ward #aloysius parker #virgil tracy #scott tracy #jeff tracy #gordon tracy #john tracy #alan tracy #grandma tracy #brains thunderbirds #kyrano thunderbirds #tin tin kyrano #sky writes stuff #thunderbirds calendar 2022 project

[aricazorel]

Thank you for the tag @ljandersen! It’s been a few months since I had the time to do anything like this! This was really fun to do.

Rules: Pick any ten of your fics, scroll to the midpoint, pick a line (or three) and share it. Then tag ten people. 

{I only selected 5 stories because my excepts are long.}

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

1. Messages (mass effect, Kaidan Alenko/Kori Reese)

Gloved hands appeared before her, pulling her coat closed more, adjusting her scarf. She glanced up to see whiskey colored eyes looking at her. “I’ve got an extra sweater in the car if you need it.”

She couldn’t tell if he was being serious or not. “Kaidan, I was just griping…”

“Yes. I know. I remember. You don’t like cold. You don’t like snow. You don’t like ice. You don’t like—”

“Okay, Alenko. I get it,” she retorted backing away, throwing her hands up. “You remember what I hate.”

Kaidan cocked his head. With a thoughtful expression, he said quietly, “I remember what you like too. You like to go hiking. We did it on shore leave before…”

2. Broken Road (mass effect, Kaidan Alenko/Kori Reese)

“Kaidan, what’s wrong—"

She didn’t finish the sentence. Alenko pinned her to the wall of the comm room and kissed her hard.  She yelped in surprise but didn’t try to fight it. Almost as quickly he pulled away with a shy smile. “Permission to speak freely?”

“Always, Major,” she replied wondering why he kept treating her as a superior officer. She was the Normandy’s first officer true, but he was a Major and a Specter.

“Thank you,” he said running a hand through her hair. “I want this to succeed as much as you do, but please don’t do anything to—"

“I’m not going anywhere, Kaidan. I promised. Remember? That means keeping my stupid stunts to a minimum,” she said with a reassuring smile. So that was where this was coming from…

“Sweetheart, I don’t know what I’d do without you…”

“Let’s not find out,” she replied as she kissed him.

3. Rebecca Shepard (mass effect, Kaidan Alenko/Rebecca Shepard)

“I want to be with you. We’ve wasted so much time and now there may not be that much left…”

“Hey, don’t talk that way. We’re together. That’s what matters right now…You and me,” the sentinel soothed as he pulled her to her feet with him. She clung to him as he began to maneuver them towards her bed.

Kaidan saw her smile as he echoed the words from over 3 years ago, spoken during the night before Ilos. “You aren’t going to leave a way out are you?”

“Hell no! Why would I want out of this? I have what I wanted back. There isn’t anything else I need,” he answered as he began kissing her neck again. “I love you.”

Shepard looked up at him with adoration. “I love you too, Kaidan.”

4. Pieces (dragon age 2, Cora Hawke/Fenris)

She smiled as he glanced back her way. Mirroring her expression, he asked, “Are you still reading that?”

Hawke giggled. “Yes. It’s the first love letter I have gotten that meant anything.”

The Tevinter arched an eyebrow. “That was not what I would call a love letter.”

“Perhaps not. But the spirit of it is the same,” she noted as she moved to sit on her knees.

Fenris hesitated as she walked back to the tent. “Should—Should I write you more? As letters?”

Cora glanced up at him. His expression one of uncertainty. His reading had improved greatly since he had moved in with her. He had only begun writing his own thoughts down a couple of months ago. Would it be too much to ask? Softly, she ventured, “Only if you are comfortable with it. I—I truly appreciate this…It wouldn’t have to be a letter. This note is fine…”

“You appreciate it?” he asked as he knelt down in front of her.

She nodded as he cupped her cheek. “Is it why you agreed to come here?”

Hawke nodded again as he leaned towards her. “Then I will have to continue to write you these little notes, amatus.”

5. Anchor (dragon age: inquisition, Cullen Rutherford/Anyssa McBride)

The historian trialed as she looked down at their hands. He glanced at the work left to do on his desk and then to the bookshelf. Maybe spending the evening with Anyssa was better than--

“Varric gifted me a copy of all of his books…”

“Are you trying to distract me?”

He let a grin tug at his lips. “Perhaps. Or maybe both of us?”

She arched an eyebrow. “Cullen. You hate those books.”

“Maybe they would be more entertaining with the curious questions you usually ask,” he suggested as he moved away from her to the shelf. Releasing her hand, he heard her follow him.

He glossed over The Tale of the Champion and instead selected Hard in Hightown. Turning to show her the book, he was greeted with a face of disdain. He found himself chuckling. “You haven’t even read it yet.”

“I really like Varric. I do, but the things I’ve heard of that book…”

“You’ll never know until you try,” he smirked, shaking the book at her. He ignored her noise of disgust that was unsettling similar to Cassandra’s and gestured to the chairs near his desk. “My lady?”

She made another face but sat down. Perhaps a distraction was what they both needed after all…

Tagging @rpgwrites, @ripley95, @acciokaidanalenko, and anyone else who would like to play.

#writing game #mass effect #dragon age #f!shenko #kaidan alenko x fem oc #cullen rutherford x fem oc #my writing #tag game

[anchanted-one]

Book of Storms Legend of Vajra

Chapter 9: Vaults and Treasures

https://archiveofourown.org/works/43208574/chapters/108995415

It was finally time! After five months of work, Vajra was finally putting the finishing touches on T7. The little Astromech was awake now, and enthusiastically telling him the tale of the Sith attack on Korriban, an event he had personally witnessed. It was where he’d met a teenaged Satele Shan, a detail which left Vajra feeling almost humbled.

This droid had seen centuries of history, and worked with the Jedi for decades. Hearing his tales, Vajra had come to deeply appreciate the Astromech, and feel honored to be given the chance to help a true hero in this manner.

“And… there!” he cried, fixing the last of the droid’s struts. “Time for a diagnostic, T7!”

“Diagnostics = Online! All sensors = online. Processors = optimal. Memory core = connected, fully operational. Interface attachment = functional. Mechanical arms = functional. All secondary attachments = operational. Structural integrity = 100%. Leg frames = stable. Movement struts = optimal. Blowtorch = operational, but empty. Weaponry = optimal. Targeting systems = online. Lightsaber attachment = not found. Will request = again.”

“A Lightsaber attachment?” Vajra laughed. “You didn’t mention it all this time! I’ll see what I can do. Maybe I can even help you compile programs to use one!”

“Jedi Vajra = being serious? T7 = just joking!”

“Why not? You’re clearly as much a Jedi as me, after all you’ve done.”

“T7 = excited! T7 = grateful! T7 = happy to be fully online again. T7 = assigned to Jedi Vajra?”

“You really want that? Well, I’m assigned to you for now, but we can put in a request with the Council to make it permanent!”

“Hey there, boys!” Jasme entered the room. “I got your message. So T7 is finally operational again?”

“Affirmative!” T7 whistled happily. “Jasme = here to see T7! T7 = happy!”

“Of course, I’m here!” she laughed. “I’ve been waiting for the day you’d return to duty. Did I hear right? You want to work with Vajra from now on?”

“Statement = true. T7 = grateful. T7 = performance improved by 220%! T7 = good as new! T7 = wants to repay Jedi Vajra’s kindness.”

“You were long overdue for maintenance, little buddy. But I’m glad I was able to save your memory core.”

“Well, I for one am glad. Vajra needs reliable backup out there. I’d be happier if he had you watching his back out there.”

“T7 = delighted to help Jasme and Jedi Vajra.”

“Well, I feel safer already,” Vajra said earnestly.

“So, how about we go for a test spin?” Jasme said eagerly. “Take him to the training yard, maybe practice working together! I can cheer you on, since I’m free at the moment…”

“That’s a good idea,” Vajra said. He frowned as his comm started ringing. “Hang on… Vajra here.”

“Vajra? It’s Ranna.”

“What’s wrong? You look so distressed!”

“I… I need your help, Vajra. Not the Kalikori, me personally. I don’t have any other friends I can turn to. I feel very alone at the moment. Please, can you be here as soon as you can. Discreetly, if possible.”

“I will. Please hold on.” He looked at Jasme and T7. “I’m sorry, it looks like training will have to wait.”

“Don’t be sorry, just go!” Jasme said urgently. “That girl is on the verge of falling apart. Leave T7 here, I’ll help him complete his diagnostics and tests.”

“Alright. I’m sorry little buddy.”

“T7 = understand. Jedi Vajra = take care.”

*

Vajra arrived forty minutes later. The wait had been torturous, but she had requested he come quietly after all. Nothing more overt than arriving on speeder, especially since his quiet one had been wrecked.

She waited beside the backdoor the whole time, trying her best to seek calm, for at least the few minutes before Vajra entered. Just in case someone was watching. When he knocked at the door, she opened it at once.

“I’m sorry I’m late. What’s happened?”

“Thank you for coming so quickly, Jedi Vajra,” Ranna said formally. “I trust you are well again? I had received your messages, but this is the first time we’re meeting again since...”

“I’m fine, thank you. I’m almost back to full strength already.”

“I’m glad to hear that. Please, come inside.” Ranna was proud of how stately she sounded.

It didn’t last long. The second she was fully indoors again, a sob leapt out of her quivering lips, and she tripped and fell. Vajra was by her side in an instant. “Ranna!”

“She’s dead!” she sobbed. “Mother is dead!”

“When?”

“This morning. She’s… her body is in the infirmary. It’s being prepared for her funeral. Oh, Mother!” She began weeping in earnest, all pretense at poise evaporating.

Vajra held her tightly in his arms, whispering words of condolence and comfort. For once, Ranna barely paid attention. All she could think about was her sweet, strong mother. Gone before her time. The only family she’d ever known!

As Ranna wept, memories flowed past her mind’s eye.

She was four years old, and listening to her mother play the harp. She had been an excellent harpist! The best on Ryloth, some claimed! Her music had once brought Ranna feelings of true peace and joy.

She was five, and riding her mother’s shoulders as she walked around their garden. Ranna remembered being so happy when she was able to reach up ang grab some meilooruns!

Still five, she was taken to her first school. Her school life had not lasted long, as Mother had entered the Way. But on that day, she had wept all day, demanding her mother not leave her. “It’ll be fine!” Mother had said. “Look at all the friends you’re going to make today!”

“I d-d-d-don’t want friends! I w-w-want Mama!”

Sumari had embraced her daughter. “You’ll see me again at the end of the day! And trust me, you will love all the games you and your friends will play!” And she had. So much so, that when her mother had removed her from school six months later, she had thrown her worst-ever tantrum.

“The things they teach are impure,” Mother said. “It takes you away from the path. Makes you rely on machines and cold numbers.”

Ranna hadn’t understood what any of that meant. “I don’t want to leave my friends!”

“You will make new ones!”

But this time, she hadn’t. All the people in Mother’s new circle were much older than her. She was the youngest until the first children were born when she was ten, by which time they had already relocated to Tython—which had been around when she turned six. Mother had put her in charge of the nursery, hoping she would finally be rid of her loneliness, but the children were far too young. It was years before they even understood what she said; and not long after, they played among themselves, leaving her to raise another batch of babies without a friend in the world.

The move itself had been hard; it was no easy thing to build a new village from scratch. Mother had led the construction while Kolovish meditated. She had been the one to supervise everything, from the digging of ditches and sewers to the construction of their new homes. She had done all this despite her failing health. For her leadership, Kolovish had granted her the title of Matriarch, while taking ‘Grand Matriarch’ for herself.

And Ranna had been relegated to carrying water to all the workers, burdened by a crushing loneliness. But Mother still played the harp for her sometimes, or comforted her when it all became too much.

Mother had gotten increasingly remote over the years… but Ranna had still found her stealing moments to share with her only daughter. It had not been much… but it had been enough.

And now… and now she was alone. All alone in the entire Galaxy!

The realization brought an unending deluge of tears until she drifted off to sleep.

She woke up hours later, to find Vajra there beside her.

“What the—?”

“Good afternoon!”

“Afternoon?!”

“You were tired from mourning. Some of the villagers knocked, but I didn’t respond. They decided you needed time alone.”

“The funeral… the funeral!”

“There’s still time for that. Don’t worry; I’d have woken you well before. It’s still 1530.”

“I see.”

“It’s gloomy out there today. I think it might rain later. Maybe that’s why it looks later than it is.”

“Vajra… were you here the entire time?”

“Yes. You asked me for help, didn’t you? What sort of Jedi would I be if I left when you were sleeping?”

“You are a better Jedi than any to have ever lived,” she said. “All you think about is service. I have nightmares of that day… I still remember how you suffered for us.”

“It… it was my pleasure.”

“I don’t know if Mother ever got to tell you this. But she reflected upon what you had to say. She did consider leading another exodus in her final days. She came to really respect your dedication.”

“She was always too tired to talk to me. She was never again healthy enough to have as long a discussion as that first day. I do regret how curt I was—”

“You shouldn’t. It was truth. Tython is a beautiful world, but deadly. I tried to talk about leaving that day, but Kolovish—”

“I heard. She didn’t make a favorable impression on the medical team, or the bomb squad. Jasme thinks she’s up to something.”

“I wouldn’t go that far. She’s strange, and authoritative. But she’s ultimately a good person. She’s offered you an audience.”

“Generous. I’ll keep it in mind.”

“You don’t plan on meeting her, do you?”

“Not yet. I think I’m going to be even busier than before.”

“Why’s that?”

“The Council has decided that I’m ready for my Trials. They’ve promised to go slow, but… well. My training has intensified. I’m to be a Knight soon.”

“You definitely deserve it,” Ranna said earnestly.

“Really? I think I’m too young. Many of my friends think so too. As did my Master.”

“Master Orgus, right? He helped us repel the Khrayii while you were recovering. He oversaw the reconstruction of the wall. He seemed like a very kind man.”

“He is. He’s a great Master. He’s taught me a lot, and is always willing to answer my many, many questions. Like I said, I’ve got a lot to learn still.”

“Well, seems like we’re both reluctantly moving up in the world.”

That took a second to sink in. “You’ve been selected as the next Matriarch?”

“I inherited the title,” Ranna felt equal parts pride and consternation. “But I’ve got big shoes to fill. Even bedridden, my mother was an active part in leading our community.”

“I know. I saw her at work. I also remember how much you helped her.”

“It’s not the same.”

“I guess it’s not. But don’t worry; you’re not alone.”

“Really? It’s never felt that way.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve been alone since Mother joined the Way. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m the only one of our age. The closest ones are only now turning four. And the adults are… adults. Until you came along, Mother was all I had.”

“Then I’m here for you,” Vajra said. “At least for now, in this difficult time.”

“And what later? Once you’re Knighted…”

“I’ll have to travel the Galaxy to do the Council’s bidding,” he finished. “But that won’t begin until the business with the Khrayii is resolved. I am one of the few assigned to this particular crisis. I believe it’s been agreed that I’ll be allowed to see this through.”

“Then… then I hope it never gets resolved. I… I want you here forever, Vajra. I need you here. I need someone here who sees me as just Ranna. With Mother gone, there’s no one…” she began weeping again, and Vajra placed his hands on hers.

“I’m sorry for the pain you are going through, Ranna. I’m sorry I can’t stay forever like you asked. But for now… I’m here.”

“I need to get ready. I need to officiate the funeral.”

“Do you want me to stay?”

“I want you to… but maybe you should leave. The villagers need to see Matriarch Ranna. Around you, I’m just Ranna Tao’Ven.”

“Alright then. If you’re sure, I’ll sneak out.”

“I’ll open the door. Make sure the way is clear for you.”

*

Vajra made it out of the village without being seen. He reactivated his comm to see that his Master had tried to reach him several times. Wincing, he returned the call.

“Finally!” Master Orgus said. “What happened? Why didn’t you respond?”

“Matriarch Sumari is dead.”

“Oh… I see.”

“Ranna asked me for help. She was, understandably, deeply distressed.”

“And you spent the whole day keeping her company,” his Master sighed. “I wouldn’t have batted an eyelash if we weren’t in a state of war. You do realize the Khrayii could attack at any moment?”

“Yes, Master. But I’d have Felt it. Also, we didn’t do anything—”

“True enough, but and I’m not worried about that at the moment. You can’t just go dark, Vajra. You need your commlink on at all times. Find out when the memorial is so that some of the Council might attend.”

“It’s at 18:00. But I don’t know if the Twi’leks want any outsiders to attend. Even I’m not invited.”

“Got it. In the meantime, your next trial is to begin.”

“As you wish, Master.”

“Head over to Keleth. It seems the excavation team has found some puzzle left by one rather playful architect. You are to attempt to solve this puzzle. Master Gnost Dural will observe and report on your Skill. It won’t matter if you can’t open the door, it’s your methodology and use of the Force will be what are really tested.”

“Yes, Master. Are they already waiting for me?”

“Yes. His Padawan, in particular, is annoyed by your tardiness. But Master Gnost will understand."

"Thank you, Master."

"Off with you, then.”

“Master… can you pick me up? On Ranna’s request, I came… discreetly.”

“You mean on foot, don’t you? By all rights, I should let you walk back. But I don’t want to keep Master Gnost waiting.”

“Yeah? I don’t want to keep Kana Terrid waiting.”

“I doubt her witty tongue will ever scald you again the way it did that first time. You’re made of sterner stuff now. Turn on your tracker, I’m on my way to pick you up.”

“Thank you, Master.”

*

Vajra ran into the building at top speed, almost crashing into a very irate Kana Terrid.

“So, the Knight-to-be is finally here, is he?” she sneered. “We’ve been waiting for over an hour here, you know!”

“Peace, Kana,” Master Gnost said. “The Kalikori leader has passed away. We can make allowances for that, surely?”

“Why bother? The Kalikori are here illegally! They’re not our responsibility! Didn’t the Republic order us to leave them to their happy fates?”

“But the Force didn’t,” Vajra responded. “Coruscant will never find out if we help them. Will not care.”

“Oh, you know their mind, do you? I thought you lived on the ass end of nowhere.”

“By that, you mean Tython? I’ve been here almost five months. I read the news. Tried to understand how they work.”

“He’s got you there, Kana. He has studied hard these past few months. It’s one of the reasons why the Council is already moving ahead with his Trials, even though there are others who are years senior to him, waiting in the wings.”

That stung her. “I’ve worked hard these past seven years, haven’t I?”

“Yes, you have. Your skill as in politics would make you a fine attaché, or a diplomat. And you have a fine grasp on technology too. It’s my hope to assign you as our ambassador to the Gree someday. But as you have proved yet again today, you have no compassion for those you deem unworthy. Every time you badmouth a fellow Padawan in a Council meeting, others notice. Every time you boss people around, treat them like your personal servants, word gets around.”

“How is that any different from Master Kaedan?” she cried. “This is pure hypocrisy!”

“Despite his cheery demeanor, Master Kaedan does not treat lives as expendable. Especially not the innocent. What you said about ‘leaving them to their happy fates’ has really disturbed me. I will say this again. Learn to get off your high horse. The second you learn that lesson, your Knighthood will be waiting for you. This one flaw is the only thing that has prevented you from attaining your Knighthood years ago.”

She clammed up then. Vajra caught her eye and said, “For what it’s worth, I believe in you.”

“Really? Why?”

“I saw you defending those Padawans during that last attack. You are a fierce protector!”

She snorted. “I appreciate it. But, no matter. You will soon become my senior in rank. Few fail the trials these days.”

“Few have ever failed the trials,” Master Gnost told her. “Because once you win the Council’s confidence, you are already deemed worthy. There have been calls to discard the practice for centuries. Only tradition—and the occasional mistake—keeps them around. So, young Vajra. Are you ready to begin?”

“I’m ready.”

“The vault door is in the next room. It’s quite a complex puzzle, one I don’t expect you to solve. Be warned however! I think there might be traps! Some might not work after all this time, but on the other hand, others might activate at random!”

Vajra stepped into the room to find the mechanism was almost two meters high. There were a lot of moving parts there; gears which had to be calibrated and fitted into each other in order to move. Locking mechanisms that could only move when the gears were aligned just right. And blocks which stopped some of the gears from even moving, which could only be moved once the locks were disengaged. And the biggest gear was in the very center, something that would take great strength or powerful machines to move. Or the Force.

Vajra sighed as he contemplated the mechanism, unsure where to even begin. He was a deft hand with gear systems, but this was… big.

“Are all trials of skill this…”

“Complex? Some are. But as I’m sure Master Orgus told you, you’re not expected to actually solve this. We want to see how you use your knowledge, both, in the Force and with machines.”

“Hmmm.” Vajra decided that the Force was the best place to start. He Looked through his third eye to see the flows in the Force, and was surprised how much that reduced the complexity. His ability to See what Jasme had called ‘Shatterpoints’ made it pretty clear which locks he’d need to see to first. Big cracks which showed the most critical junctures at any given time. If nothing else, that gave him a place to start.

Despite his advantage… “I think this will take some time.”

“You have seven hours.”

“Oh! That’s plenty then,” Vajra replied. He closed off his physical senses, allowing only his Force Senses to guide him. Using the Force rather than his hands, he moved the first gears gently, waiting for the Shatterpoint to thrum. When it did, he aligned the teeth, then moved the locking mechanism aside. He pulled those aside with far less care, then removed the block they had been holding in place.

There was a sharp intake of breath behind him. “Nice one,” Kana said grudgingly. “I didn’t think you’d get a single one.”

“Believe it or not, the Force lights up the way like a parade.”

“Does it? I See nothing.”

“I’ve worked with far less complex systems before, so maybe I just know what to look for.”

She snorted again.

“Carry on, Padawan,” Master Gnost said.

Vajra did as he was told. He went ahead as he had begun, turning the gears gently until they fit together, then removing the locks and blocks with a little more force. There were a few times where traps were accidentally triggered, but his instinct warned him with enough time for him to either evade, or use a Force Shield. He had to take several breaks as the concentration required was immense, and each time he found himself so soaked in sweat that he must have looked like he’d just run a mile in heavy rain.

“Here,” Kana said, handing him his water bottle. “Maybe he should leave it at this? He’s tired out, and he’s proven his skill. I’m sure the team can do the rest on their own now.”

“I’m sure they can. But since he’s doing so splendidly, I think Vajra deserves to at least be there when it’s opened at last. What do you say, Padawan? We can declare the test finished, but you can wait here with the exploration team. You may resume your efforts tomorrow.”

“I’d love to, Master. But the Kalikori… there’s always a chance I’m needed there. Perhaps they might invite me for the latter half of the funeral.”

“I see. Very well. I’ll call the team; continue your work. But I’m giving Kana permission to end the Trial if you’re about to drop.”

“Yes, Master.”

The girl gave him a tight grin. “I still don’t like you, pipsqueak. But I’ll admit you have skills.”

“We all do.”

“If only mine included being a softie.”

“Like I said earlier, you’re not cruel. I’ve seen you showing compassion.”

“Oh, stow it. I don’t need peptalks from you.”

“I don’t think it’ll be that long before your own trials, is all I’m saying.”

“I can only hope. Now get on with it. And try to make it look obvious if you’re running out of steam.”

Vajra chuckled, but continued. It was a repetitive, but simple process once you knew what you were a doing; Align the gears, move the locks, remove the blocks. He had to go slowly so as to not trigger any more traps, or worse, break something.

Sometime during his work, Master Gnost returned with the exploration team. Their whispered chatter filled the room as Vajra worked, but he didn’t find it too distracting. After another hour or two of work, he was finally done. The team broke into applause as he began to turn the largest and final gear. He opened it to find a large collection of valuables. Carved statues, encased paintings, ornamental weapons, tomes, archaic Holocrons, coins made of various metals, and piles of glowing crystals.

“I think these are Lightsaber crystals,” Master Gnost said, peering at one. “I think we’ll give some of these to Vajra for his own Lightsabers once we study them, for a job exquisitely well done.”

“Thank you, Master. But really, there’s no need. These are valuable archaeological finds!”

“Most of which will be properly treasured, I promise you. But Lightsaber crystals are most valuable when they’re put to use. Now, Soken will lead you to the tents. I want you to rest a little before you return. You look ready to drop.”

“Yes, Master.”

As he was leaving, Kana clapped his shoulder. “That was kind of well done. I’m starting to like you. Maybe you should hit me up when you turn twenty?”

Remembering Jasme’s comments about her, he took that to mean the Falleen was expecting him to pass the Trials.

“See you around, Kana.”

Vajra was more tired than he’d thought. He fell asleep almost immediately after being shown to the tents, and only woke the next morning.

He was hailed by the guard on duty. “Morning, Vajra!”

“Knight Weller?”

“It’s me, indeed. I’m glad to see you well. You’ve come a long way since that first day.”

“It’s easy to excel when you’re trained by the best.”

“Indeed. Master Orgus? That alone was quite an achievement.”

“I didn’t see you yesterday at the opening. Was I really that tired?”

“Yes, you were. But I was standing off to the side, so it’s no surprise you didn’t notice me.”

“Has everyone started work already?”

“Most of them were busy cataloguing the find throughout the night. I think they didn’t like being outdone by a stripling!”

“Outdone?”

“You heard me. Apparently, most of them took one look at the lock and gave up. Maybe you need to note down your technique in the archives, so that we know how to go about such puzzles next time.”

“Maybe…”

“Anyway, I’m sorry to have kept you. Please, go about your day! I’m sure those Kalikori will call on you soon, if the Council don’t first. Shame about their Matriarch.”

Close by, Vajra found a Padawan even older than Kana struggling with some exercise. “Hey, you! You there!”

“Can I help you?”

“My Master told me to move this rock here, but I haven’t been able to!”

“That is odd,” Vajra stared at it. It looked like any ordinary rock to him, one too heavy for Ungifted to lift. But most Padawans should be able to lift it with the Force. Even Vajra, who couldn’t affect matter past fifty meters or so, would probably be able to do it at this close range.

“Why don’t you try it? If you fail, I’ll know that it was just impossible for some reason.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course, I’m sure! I don’t want to fail my Trial here!”

“If it’s a Trial…”

“C’mon, c’mon! Please? No one will know!”

“We will.”

“Look, I’m not asking you to do the trial for me—”

“You are, actually.”

“I just want to know if it’s possible.”

“It’s a Trial. You said so. That means it’s not impossible. Or at least, victory isn’t the purpose here.” He looked around. “Where’s your Master?”

“Gone for a drink. Master Quilljayk is Ithorian, they need more water than they can carry sometimes. Now come on, come on! Hop to it before he gets back!”

Vajra sighed and opened his third eye again. When he saw the rock through the Force, it became pretty obvious what had stopped the Padawan from picking up the rock—another lock. A simple twist would be all it took to unlock it.

“Keep at it,” Vajra said. “I’m sure you’ll get it!”

“Wait, you’re giving up that easily?”

“No. I figured it out.”

“What?” the boy was stunned. “How did you do it so fast?”

“It’s not my business to tell you. I’ll give you a hint though. Look at this thing. Really look at it. Good luck with your Trial!”

“Wait!” He grabbed Vajra, both physically, and with the Force. “You’re not leaving until you tell me what that trick here is!”

Vajra went cold. At least it wasn’t an attack this time. “Let me go,” he said reasonably. “And we’ll forget all about our little chat.”

“What? Are you serious? Please don’t do this to me! I’ve been at this for two hours now, I need help! I can’t fail here!”

“Forget failure, I do not appreciate being Held like this! You have until I count to three…”

“Enough, Padawans!” a voice called in Ithorian.

The other Padawan gasped and released Vajra. “Master Quilljayk!”

“Did you really think I left you alone for a water break? I Sensed this Padawan approaching, and wanted to add him to your test. To see what you would do! To think you would not only use him for validation, you would try to hold him against his will! Ask him to do your Trial for you!”

“No, Master! It’s not what you think! This Padawan insisted on doing my Trial for me, he was going to solve it instead of me! He insisted!”

“That is a blatant lie!” Vajra hissed.

“And I know it. As I said, I saw everything. I am deeply disappointed in you, Flingeld.” He looked at Vajra with a baleful gaze. “One thing puzzles me. However did you see the mechanism that easily?”

“I was working on my own Trial yesterday. I spent hours looking at locks.”

Flingeld’s head whipped around to him. “You’ve started doing your Trials? You?”

“So, you’re that Padawan,” Master Quilljayk growled. “I see. I’ll be sure to let the Council know you’ve passed a Trial of Insight.”

“Thank you, Master. But that’s really not necessary—”

“You found the point to this test with only a quick glance. Any fresh trial is a waste of the time it takes to think one up. Now be off with you! I must deal with Flingeld.”

Vajra didn’t need telling twice. He walked away as fast as he could without actually running.

*

“Ah, if it isn’t Vajra!”

“Master Kaedan?”

“Yes indeed. Back on Tython for a spell.”

The Master’s unusual good mood caught Vajra off guard.

“How long are you staying?”

“Hopefully at least a week. Coruscant is a little… stony for my taste. It’s only ever here or Coruscant these days.”

“Because of the growing darkness?”

“And other things. A Councilor’s work is never done. Always another report to see to. Speaking of which, I thought you weren’t in a hurry to finish your Trials? Quilljayk says you’ve gone and done the one he set without even trying!”

“That shouldn’t have happened, Master.”

“True. But that’s not on you, it’s on Flingeld. He’s the one who accosted you. And now you’re two steps closer to becoming a Knight.” He suddenly looked saddened. “Ready or not, I wish we could give you more time. Sadly, you’re not even the youngest Padawan to have their training expedited in these days of war. Damned, blasted Sith. Anyway, carry on, Padawan.”

Vajra bowed and left him, intent on finding Jasme. And T7. But his quota of chance meetings for the day was clearly not finished.

“Master Orgus!”

“Hello, Padawan. Congrats on sailing through with flying colors!”

“Thank you, Master.”

The old human whispered slyly. “This is where you say, ‘Your training is paying off, Master!’”

Vajra laughed. “Oops! Forgive me, Master! Your training has paid off wonderfully!”

“As has Master WenSuul’s. She clearly gave you exactly what you needed. A good heart, a spirit of service, mastery of the Lightsaber, and a perceptive mind.”

“And you’ve helped me strengthen my emotions. And navigate moral conundrums. Devise and discern combat tactics.”

“Glad you’ve noticed. And I noticed how you took a detour after your Trial.”

Vajra blinked. “My tracker is still on, isn’t it?”

“It is. But even if it wasn’t, I’d have suspected you of looking in on Ranna.”

“She was so distraught the last time I saw her.”

“I spoke to her. She’s young, but loves her people. She has the potential to become a splendid leader.”

“But she’s all alone, Master. She grew up without any other children to make friends with.”

“Indeed? That’s a shame. It’s no wonder she latched on to you so quickly then.”

“Yes, Master.”

“Anyway, I’ve given you my congratulations and reminded you to double check your tracker. I need to prepare for a Council Meeting. Seek me out later if you have any questions.”

“Yes, Master.”

Vajra entered the archives next, only to find that T7 was waiting there for him alongside Jasme.

“Vajra!” she cried happily. “There you are at last!”

“Two bits of news. Matriarch Sumari died this morning.”

“Yeah, I heard,” Jasme said sadly. “I feel bad for Ranna. She’s all alone now! I hopped on over to see if she’d appreciate company, but she was busy with the funeral.”

T7 whistled mournfully.

“You are one of the nicest people around, Jasme. Anyway, second tidbit. I’ve passed my Trial of Skill. And I got roped into someone else’s Trial of Insight, so it seems I’ve passed that too.”

“YESSS!” Jasme roared in triumph, pumping a fist into the air. Several people were startled, but most of the visitors to the archives were used to Jasme’s overt displays of emotion. “Oops. Sorry everyone!” she apologized. “Come on, let’s go to the gardens.”

“T7?” Vajra asked, and the droid whistled and followed.

Jasme led him to one of the more secluded spots and settled down. When Vajra had sat down next to her, she grinned. “Now. Tell me that new story!”

*

#star wars #swtor #swtor fanfic #swtor fanfiction #star wars fanfiction #jedi knight #hero of tython

[no-droids]

Ask Me Again Tomorrow

gif credit @pedros-pascal​

Part Sixteen of the Rough Day Series

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 16.3K

Warnings: SMUTTTTT, following/stalking, some fluffy moments but mostly just a lil action and interaction, I don’t think there’s any other warning besides language and the smut (comm sex WITH A TWIST YALLLLL) but if you happen to find something else that warrants a tag, please let me know and I will do so accordingly!

A/N: The response to this story has grown beyond anything I could’ve ever imagined and I genuinely thank you all from the bottom of my heart for the privilege of writing for you.  Hope this one ends up being okay and I’ll get to work on the next chapter soon!

***

Headstart—12:17pm:

The sky is so pretty.  There isn’t much to look at on the surface—rolling hills and plains, grassy but with dry bare spots breaking up the green stretches, but the sky.  It’s an oil painting above you, pastel swishes of yellows and pinks and purples with an enormous ringed planet taking up half the horizon and another sizable moon hanging high.

You should probably be running.  Like, for real sprinting, but you can’t push yourself to go faster than a brisk walk.  It’s so… free out here, more hills springing up every time you get to the top of the next, warm air filling your lungs.  Even though you know realistically that the beginning will likely be the hardest—where you need to focus most on running and putting distance between you instead of hiding—truth be told, you’re not foreseeing making it more than a full day.  You’re going to try, obviously, but in the grand scheme, you wouldn’t be surprised in the least if he finds you tomorrow.  So, instead of wasting all your energy going as fast as you physically can right out of the gate, you just decide to stroll and think for a little bit.

You know what your goal is.  Obviously, to last as long as you can, but more specifically… well, if Din is going to chase after you, then he’s going to try to think like you.  Anticipate your movements, if he can’t already see the tracks you leave plain as day.  Very soon, he’ll be walking this same exact pathing, following the footprints you’re leaving behind, but if you’re ever able to shake him or throw him off course, he doesn’t have a tracking fob.  He doesn’t have any mechanical device that points him in your direction—if you can lose him with the footprints, then he’ll have to rely solely on predicting you. Which means you need to think… exactly the opposite of yourself if you want to outsmart him.

That’s harder than it sounds though, because… is he going to predict you predicting him?  At what point does it stop?  You somehow have trouble seeing this as an advantage the way he said it would be—you almost wish you had someone else chasing you, someone you didn’t know and someone who didn’t know you if only so this paradox could end before it begins.

You’re walking for about ten minutes before spotting a dirt road in the distance.  There’s a person following it in the direction of the sun—you don’t know this planet’s magnetic field but you do know it’s after noon and the sun would set on Arvala-7 in the west, so that’s what you’ll call it for now.  You call out to them as soon as you’re in range, and the stranger turns to you.

“Excuse me!”  It’s a woman, you see it as you get closer.  “I’m so sorry to bother you, but can you tell me where this road leads?”

She removes a sheer yellow shawl covering her dark hair and gives you a friendly smile.  “Hello,” the lady greets, before spinning around and pointing back the way she came.  “Osiruu is a few hours that way.  There’s not much there, but it will take you to G’ila, a transport hub with many opportunities for drifters, or Nariss, the capital.  I’m on my way to Shabeth,” she points in the other direction.  “It’s far—a day’s walk, but it’s a holy place and offers quite the view.  I would be glad for the company, but I understand its lack of practical appeal.”

So this place is safe enough to be inviting strangers along on your travels, noted.  You’re going to have to make the decision right now, then.  Which path should you take?

Something deep inside you tells you that you want to see this holy place, and just from a few sentences, you already like this woman and feel safe with her.  But then all of a sudden, you remember something.

Last known locations tell you a lot about a quarry, Din’s voice drifts back to you, sounding soft and distant from the dark forests of Naboo.  Smart ones go to populated planets, planets like Coruscant, planets that make it nearly impossible to find people.  Brave ones go to dangerous planets, suicidal ones try their luck in the Unknown Regions, idiots continue to go about their business on their homeworld without caring.  But planets like this—like Naboo… those are the pacifists.  The ones that don’t ever put up a fight.

You suppose you should decide what kind of quarry you want to be.  Friendly company and a view is something you normally crave—it’s something your soul speaks to after going without it for so long during your previous life.  You never pictured yourself as the fighting type.  When Din first asked you, you told him you wouldn’t run from him if he was chasing you, and choosing to accompany this kind stranger to her destination is essentially just that.  Sacrificing a chase for a pretty view.

“Does Shabeth have a sizable population?”  You ask her, and she shakes her head.

“It’s the sight of an annual pilgrimage that happens in a few months, but it’s beautiful there and I like to go whenever I can,” she tells you with a soft smile.  “But there’s nothing for miles outside it, I’m afraid.”

Your footprints will lead directly there.  He’ll find you easily.

“It sounds very nice, but I need to find somewhere with a lot of people,” you give her an apologetic smile.  Truly, you think she would’ve made for a nice friend.  “Thank you for your help, though, and good luck with your journey!  I hope we meet again.”

“Do you need any food or supplies?”  She asks you, and you stop short of passing her by.  “I don’t have much with me, but know what it’s like to be a newcomer to Sanctuary II.  I’d be glad to help.”

Good Maker, is this how everybody is here or did you just hit the jackpot with this lady?  She seems like… you, almost.  Her voice is gentle, she looks like she’d give nice hugs.  You’re about to politely turn her down, but then you realize the brilliant opportunity that’s presented itself in her image.

“Actually, this might sound like a really strange question, but…” you tell her, before looking down at her feet.  “Wanna trade shoes with me?”

***

Headstart—6:12pm:

You don’t think it’ll work, but as you walk into a small settlement a few hours later in a unfamiliar and worn pair of sandals, you decide that you’ll need to do this as often as possible.  You can’t come up with anything else that’ll throw him off your physical trail besides constantly switching shoes—is that bad?  Are you just an idiot with no hope?  You’ve had—you check your watch—like, five hours to think of a game plan, and all you’ve come up with is shoes?  You’re screwed.

At least there’s food here.  Plenty.  There’s vendors stationed along the street, multiple people passing by and going about their business.  Osiruu, that nice woman said—not much here, but you think she was wrong.  There’s children giggling and jumping rope on the corner, a shopkeeper sweeping her storefront, a graying man with an empty cup plucking an unfamiliar melody on an unfamiliar instrument—and while your tummy growls and you know you should quickly buy supplies and be on your way, you still stop for just a few minutes to listen.

It’s a lovely tune.  You drop a few credits in his cup after he finishes and find yourself humming it as you look at the plethora of goods being offered by the vendors.  Water, food—you buy enough of everything to sustain you for at least a couple days, not wanting to go hungry but also feeling realistic over optimistic.  The cuisine is foreign and you just point to things that look appetizing since you’re not sure about the name or pronunciation, but after paying and taking a bite into a rather large piece of purple fruit, your eyes nearly cross at how sweet and tasty it is.  Holy Maker, that might just be the best thing you’ve ever tasted.  You ask for two more after you finish the first, tucking one in your backpack next to your blaster and munching on the other as you keep browsing.

Suddenly you see shoes—yes.  Fucking shoes, your salvation.  You take a good look at all your options, of which, there aren’t many.  Generic men's, women's, and children's, all in the same color and design.  It’s good in a way—you see most people walking around in the same type of clothing here and you pray there’s not a way for him to track your gait or the whole thing is a bust, but truthfully, what you’re most worried about is the fact that you’ll create a brand new set of footprints wherever your old ones disappear.  Unless you trade with someone else, you won’t ever have a back pathing, you know that Din will probably be able to easily spot it.

“Three pairs of these, please,” you point to the correct shoes and tell him your size, but then—“Oh wait, actually, can I actually have one of them that’s the next size up?  And another that’s the same but in men's?”

The man behind the counter gives you an odd look but acquiesces, measuring the size of your preferred pair to multiple men’s shoes to find one that looks roughly the same—you doubt he’s ever had a request like this, but you’re also a generous tipper.  His smile is grateful when you tell him to keep the change and then you’re stuffing the new shoes into your backpack and moving onward.

Would there be some kind of map here, you wonder?  One that shows distance so you won’t waste time trying to reach a place you won’t be able to walk to?  That lady said a transport hub and the capital are through this settlement, but she didn’t provide much information beyond that.  You don’t want to be in the middle of nowhere when he finally catches up to you, you’ll need some place to hide.

When you stop to ask an elderly gentleman as he passes by, he freely provides you a basic gist.  There’s a large forest beyond Osiruu—after it will be a road that passes through a few notable places, with a town called Sijua to the west that leads north to G’ila, and Devain to the east that leads northeast to Nariss.  Both are within walking distance, though it may take a couple days to reach your destination.

Alright then.  Through the forest, you suppose.  You probably should’ve asked which way is east, but he’s already leaving and you don’t have the nerve to ask him to stop again.  You have a finger point, that’s all you need.  Making sure to use one of the small restrooms near the square before heading out, you eventually decide to make your way towards the direction he said this forest would be.

***

Headstart—6:58pm:

A bus.

You’re not going to take it, of course, but it’s the perfect solution to the problem you’ve been mulling over.  It’s at the very edge of the small settlement, and you quickly speed up into a half-jog as soon as you hear its engine running.

“Last call for the seven o’clock!”  A large man stationed near the doors yells as you approach.  “Last bus to G’ila until tomorrow!”

The sun is setting and you have to extend your hand out in front of you to not be blinded by it.  “Hello,” you give him a smile, before grabbing one of the handles on the side and stepping up onto the metal platform.

“Ah!”  The man quickly stops you, moving to stand in front of the open doors.  He’s as wide as he is tall, big enough that he blocks the entire exit.  “That’ll be ten credits, miss.”

“Oh,” you say, patting your empty pockets and pulling your eyebrows inwards, trying not to move too much in case the sizable amount of credits you have stashed in your backpack happen to rattle.  “Oh, no.  I think I lost my wallet.”

He sighs.  “Off the bus then please, miss.  Come back tomorrow if you find it.”

You nod, leaning your forearm against the paneling and beginning to take your shoes off.  “Will it be parked in the same place exactly?”

The driver looks curiously at you, clearly confused at both the strange question and your strange actions.  “I’m sorry?  Please—off the bus.”

“One second,” you tell him, now barefoot on the platform and digging into your backpack for the slightly larger sized shoes you bought earlier.  The sound of credits clink against your blaster, but you hope he takes your lead in purposefully ignoring them.  “Does the bus to G’ila park in this spot every single day?”

“Yes,” the man tells you impatiently, eyeing the way you’re stepping into the new pair with a subtle look of distaste.  Everyone is polite here, it seems.  “It will arrive back at seven am sharp with passengers from G’ila, in the same exact place.  Please get off the bus.”

“Thank you, sir,” you tell him with a smile, watching him step to the side to allow you to drop down into the dirt again and continue on your way.

Brilliant, if you do say so your fucking self.  Eliminate the need for a back pathing.  All footprints facing this direction are going to be the first footprints, and all of them facing the opposite way are going to be the last; if Din manages to figure out you didn’t take the bus, then he won’t be able to tell which new set are yours and which belong to the other passengers.  You pray the helmet can’t track gaits, but while you’re still paying enough attention, you make sure to keep your steps just slightly longer and even try placing more weight on the edges of your feet to make it look like you have a slightly higher arch than you actually do.  You’d put a pebble inside of them or something, but you know you’re going to be walking through the night and you don’t want to commit to having your feet hurt more than you already know they’re going to.

Eventually the quaint shops and small houses disappear behind you, and the sun setting over the horizon turns the clouds above turn more dusty green and brown than yellow and pink.  You hope Din opened up the ramp after you left.  You want him to see the sky.

***

Headstart—9:34pm

The forest here is different from Naboo, too.

Maybe it was because you only saw it while you were in crisis-mode, but that forest seemed much scarier and darker than this one.  The vegetation there was thick and overgrowing, but these trees look like they’ve never had leaves on them at all.  No twigs or small branches that sprout from the trunks—the branches are all thick and gnarly, criss-crossing with each other with how close they’ve grown together.  You bet their roots are practically one at this point, stretching for miles and miles but all sharing the same system.

Because there aren’t any leaves, there's nothing to block the moonlight shining clear and crystalline through the twisting maze of branches.  Sanctuary II appears to have a sister moon—Sanctuary I, perhaps?—that’s likely a similar size, because it’s the same one you've seen all day and it’s barely moved a few degrees that you can tell.  It must orbit incredibly close and be tidal-locked with this one then.  Two massive satellites swinging around each other as they circle a ringed gas giant, but it makes a stunning view and reflects more than enough light to see.

The sky is deep blue and maroon and you’ve been walking in a straight line for hours, using the stationary moon overhead as your guide.  The only issue with this plan that you’ve been able to come up with is that there’s no widely traveled path through the trees—even you can see your footprints and the clear trail you’re leaving behind.  You’ve been trying for a while to figure out another clever evasion tactic, but it’s harder than it sounds.  Can’t just change shoes again, that’ll be a dead giveaway.  How do you lose him?

You stop for a second, reaching into your bag to grab some water and stay hydrated.  Looking up once more at the beauty of the swirling colors peeking through the branches above you, you find yourself pausing after returning the bottle to your pack.  There are… an atrocious number of branches up there, and all of them are long and tangled and thick.  Sturdy.

You’ve… never climbed a tree before.

Without thinking much beyond that, you decide to bend your knees and jump, grabbing hold of one of the strong wooden tubes over your head and then swinging your legs up.  Ouch—the bark scrapes against your palms and you have to hold on tight with your thighs while you shimmy yourself upwards, but at least the wood is solid as fuck.  It takes you a minute or two, but you’re eventually able to shuffle yourself around so you’re straddling the thick branch, and then you look out to see the large collection of them criss-crossing in every direction around you.

Oof, this is dangerous.  You know it even before you start.  The gaps leading to the ground are bigger and more numerous than your potential pathing forward, but the only thing that gives you reassurance is how thick the wood is—you’re almost certain the branches aren’t going to break as long as you’re careful.

Okay.  Shoes, these are too big for the kind of dexterity you’re going to need.  You take them off slowly, being extra careful not to drop them, and then exchange them with the better-fitting pair you bought earlier, making a mental note that the sandals and the larger shoes are the two you’ve already worn.  If your pursuer manages to catch on to the multiple footprint changes, your most recent ones should ideally just… disappear right there, shouldn’t they?

You grin, before struggling into a low crouch and looking around your wooden cage for a safe way forwards.

***

Headstart—11:37pm:

Water.

A blessing, and not because you’re thirsty.  You have clean water in your bag and decades of habits formed in the desert to ensure you’re taking breaks and drinking enough—what you need is a way to disguise your footprints once you get back on the ground again.  This was good; scuttling your way along thick and twisting branches for as long as you have was time-consuming and exhausting, but it allowed you to avoid touching the ground for at least a mile or so, which means he’ll have to comb that entire radius to look for your drop.

And it was fun.

You even found yourself giggling as you ducked and scooted, ignoring the bark scraping your skin and your panting breaths, the way your face got sweaty and hot.  You had to do some brave maneuvers at tricky spots—jumping, balancing, hugging—but it almost just felt like an exciting little obstacle course for you and you’re honestly having a fucking blast right now.

Water, though.  Water is an unexpected beauty, even more than you’ve always considered it to be.  Water is an eroder.  Not only powerful enough to smooth down the rough edges of strong elements over time, but it will hide your footprints as soon as you create them and leave no indication that you were ever there.

Eventually you see it—a babbling stream cutting a considerably wide line through the trees.  You creep forward and hang tight to a branch above you to make sure you won’t fall, wiping the sweat on your brow with your other hand as you study the terrain.  The water is… a considerable distance below you, maybe about ten or so feet, and there’s quite a few branches on either side that extend and hang out over it.  You could probably find your way to the other side somehow, but something tells you to avoid the road beyond the forest if you can.  It leads to multiple places, it would be better to follow the stream until you can eventually merge with it later.

That means you’re… fuck.  You’re going to have to jump, aren’t you?

It’s the only way—you can’t leave footprints which means you’re going to need to land in the water.  The trees clear too far from the shoreline, so you can’t shimmy down the trunk of one for a shorter fall.  You’re going to have to climb out on one of those long branches until you’re suspended over the stream, and then you’re going to have to lower yourself as far as you can and then let go.  With your height already accounting for at least half the distance plus the length of your arms as you hang, you should only have to drop two or three feet before reaching water, and then maybe another two feet to the floor under it.  It looks forgiving enough—the moonlight shines and the stream is clear and you can mainly just see sand at the bottom, no sharp rocks or other potential dangers to be found.  This… this is doable.

Okay.  If you pull this off, you’re a badass.  If you don’t break any bones or seriously injure yourself in any way, you deserve some kind of commendation.  This is probably kiddie shit to Din, who keeps literal rockets strapped to his back and jumps out of ships flying thousands of feet above the ground, but this is a challenge for you and you’re feeling just excited enough to be up to it.

You’re eventually able to climb onto the thickest, sturdiest branch you can see that happens to hang over the water, straddling it and beginning to scoot.  Your thighs are killing you at this point but you’re holding deathly tight to the wood, your movements becoming more and more cautious the further away from the trunk you get.

You’re directly above the water now, but you need to go out a little further.  Aim for right in the middle so you don’t accidentally leave any tracks or prints on the shoreline if you need to catch yourself.  The unfamiliar wood in this forest is admittedly sturdy, but the branch begins to subtly sag with your weight as you keep slowly scooting forward, and you’re just about to the correct spot when—

Day 1–12:00am:

“Sweet girl.”

—You nearly fucking fall.

“Maker,” you gasp, suddenly scrambling to catch yourself on the branch before you can plummet.  It creaks and groans under your weight but supports you nonetheless, and when you’re one hundred percent certain it isn’t going to break, you jerk your head down to the communicator and see that it’s midnight, on the dot.

Shit.

Your heart slams against your ribs and your arms shake with adrenaline while you study it for just a moment longer, trying to calm the fuck down.

“Hey,” Din’s voice comes sharply from your wrist, crackling and tinny through the comm, nearly scaring you again.  “Answer me.”

You don’t want to sacrifice your grip right now, but you have no doubt he’ll fly the Crest out to you if you don’t respond.  So you quickly let go to press a button on the front face and then latch onto the branch tight once more, raising your voice because you can’t risk bringing your wrist up to your mouth to speak.  You hope he’ll be able to hear without the microphone picking up the sound of the stream below.  “Uh.  Ahem.  Hello.  Yes?”

“You’re too quiet,” Din’s disembodied voice immediately informs you.  “Or something on your side is too loud.  There’s an earpiece built into the side of the communicator, take it out and use it instead.”

You study the wrist brace without moving, until you finally see what he’s talking about.  It’s a small, wireless piece of machinery hidden on the left side of the electronic display, and you quickly pop it out and stuff it into your ear just in time to hear the sound of hydraulics clanging through the speaker as you clutch the branch again.  You’d know that sound anywhere, it’s the ramp of the hull closing.

“Are you already on the move?”  You ask him incredulously, your thighs starting to go numb with how deathly tight you’ve been squeezing this tree.

“Can’t sleep,” Din murmurs, sounding so much closer and deeper than before.  Does he have his earpiece on under the helmet or something?  Stars, is that why his voice sounds that good?  It’s like it’s coming from inside your own head, bassy and rough.  “Ready or not.”

You huff, your tummy going warm.  Of course he can’t sleep, of course he’s going to look for you as soon as he’s allowed to.  If he waited until morning, you’d probably be slightly offended.  You try to slow your heart rate into something acceptable, but being this far above water and hearing his baritone murmur directly in your ear make it difficult.  “But I’m… sleepy.”

“You’re always sleepy,” he tells you, and though you can’t actually hear him walking, the sound of his footsteps shake through his voice just slightly as he speaks.

“Hang on,” you huff, ducking your head to drag it against your shoulder, keeping the sweat from your eyes without using your hands, “you’re gonna make me stay up all night just because you do?  This isn’t fair—”

“Fair wasn’t part of the rules.”

Well.  Fair.

Stars, you can’t stay here.  You don’t know how long he wants to check-in for, but you’re also not confident with this branch’s ability to hold you for an extended time when you’re this far out from the trunk.  You need to get in that stream one way or another, but now that he’s here, you have an extra problem.  Din is going to hear you no matter what.

“Um.  Can you give me a second?”  You ask him, glancing around to make sure there’s no better way of doing this.  Nope, you realize very quickly—this is the best idea you’ve got, and you don’t really know what that says about the quality of all your other ideas.

“What?”  Din grunts shortly, but you just clear your throat.

“I need to… mute myself.  Give me like… five minutes.”

“What are you talking abou—”

“You of all people cannot be upset about asking for five minutes of quiet,” you return testily, looking down at the distance to the stream once more.  That’s a long way.  You… you can’t swim obviously, but again, the water doesn’t look too deep.  Just a couple feet likely, shouldn’t go past your knees.

It’s fitting that he doesn’t say anything, which you eventually take as disgruntled acceptance, so you quickly press the proper button on your wrist to silence the mic and then take a few deep breaths.  You have a time limit now, you have to do this.

With incredible patience and precision, you eventually slide until you’re clutching the branch upside down like an only slightly quicker and less coordinated sloth, before slowly dropping your legs and hanging over the water.

It’s… admittedly a bit further down than you anticipated, or maybe that’s just you making things worse than they actually are, but you’re committed at this point and there’s no going back.

You close your eyes, count to three, and then you let go.

The sandy floor meets your feet with considerable force and you make a hell of a splash doing it, nearly falling but just barely managing to keep yourself balanced and upright at the last second.  The water is cool and comes up just over your knees, your backpack miraculously didn’t get wet and all your limbs remain shaky but unbroken.

Okay.  Okay, fucking success.  It feels… thrilling, accomplishing a dangerous feat, and you quickly let out a loud whoop before clearing your throat, trying to sound normal as you press a button on the communicator’s face once more.

“Mando?”  You ask, slightly out of breath.  “Sorry about that, I’m back.”

Okay, now which way do you go?  Downstream seems like the easier path after getting in so much unexpected exercise, so that’s the one you go with.  As soon as you lift your foot from the sand bed, you watch your footprint almost immediately disappear through the moonlit water, and you bite your lip at just how well everything turned out for you.

After a moment though, you realize he hasn’t answered you.  You look down at the communicator again to make sure you pressed the right thing.  “Hello?  Shiny?”

“Did you trade shoes with someone?”  Din’s voice suddenly comes through the earpiece, sounding absolutely incredulous.

“Shit,” you tell him, trying not to smile.  “Hoped that was gonna buy me more time.”

“It… might’ve, if you kept walking in the same direction as they were,” he informs you after a moment.  “Your shoes went south, but this other pair got all the way out here just to turn back around again?  Good idea, but the execution needs work.”

Maker, he’s smart.  It was the first attempt at a footprint change so you weren’t thinking much beyond tricking the tracking mechanism in his helmet, you ignored his logic completely.  Essentially, the exact opposite of what he told you to do.  You like to think you’re getting better at it by this point, thinking beyond just the original exchange, and you’re hoping you’ll be able to trick him with at least one of the other fifty times you changed shoes today.  You’ll have to see tomorrow night, if you can make it that long.

Also, the road you were on apparently goes north-south, that’s important information you make sure to take note of.  The man in Osiruu said Devain and Nariss are to the east, and that Sijua and G’ila are westward, right?  Remembering that you thought south was west earlier, you do some quick calculating and immediately come to a stop in the moving water as soon as you figure out your positioning, turning around and walking upstream instead.

You want to go to Nariss.  The capital, and the biggest city in walking distance.  Smart quarry go to populated places, places that make it nearly impossible to find people.

“Alright.  Mando: one, Me: zero,” you finally acknowledge, swinging your backpack around and unzipping it to dig inside for another piece of fruit.  You’ve been hungry for hours but had to use both hands to stay safe and far above the ground, it’s the perfect time to eat.  “How’s the baby?  Behaving himself?”

“He kept trying to follow you after you left,” comes Din’s response, and you stop with just your teeth piercing the flesh, wondering if you heard him right.  You actually open your jaw and pull the fruit away with just a bite mark in it.

“You’re joking.”  No fucking way, not that little demon.

“Wish I was,” he tells you solemnly.  “Made a fuss, tried to open the ramp a few times.  Didn’t cause any trouble after, just… pouted.”

That’s… that’s exactly how he responded the very first time Din left the kid on the ship with you instead of bringing him along.  He threw a fit, tried to ditch you for his dad multiple times, and then ultimately just looked cute and mopey with his limp ears until Din came back.  Do you think it’s just him rebelling against change?  That has to be it, right?

“He better not be giving you any hints about where I am,” you warn his father.  “I’d tell you to put him on but I don’t want the earpiece getting lost forever.”

You hear it.  The softest laugh—barely a breath, coming after years of learning to make it just quiet enough not to be registered by the helmet.  It gets picked up by the communicator in all its understated beauty when normally it’d be silent, and it’s just jarring enough to make you careless.

On your next step, you accidentally lift your foot too high and make a splash, and you already know you fucked up before he can say a single word.

“What’s that sound?”

You immediately stop moving, allowing the cool water to move as silently as possible past your stationary knees.  Shit.  “Uh.  What sound?”

You think he purposefully doesn’t say anything.  Probably because it feels a little like cheating, doesn’t it?  It’s to your disadvantage, having him be able to catch hints from your environment when he’s the one who made check-ins mandatory, but then again… how smart do you think he is?  Something tells you that he might not need to track you at all—what are the chances he stumbles upon this little stream and just naturally assumes you were clever enough to use it to hide your trail?  Did you waste time trying to engineer a vanishing act when it’s not going to matter regardless?

Oh well, too late now.  You quickly decide to change the subject.

“You should try the big purple fruit that one vendor sells when you get into Osiruu, by the way,” you tell him pleasantly, taking a big chomp out of it and then letting out an extended hum of delight that only really fucking good food or sex causes a person to make.  “I’m eating one right now, it’s so good.  Be the best thing you’ve ever tasted.”

“Mm.  Doubt it,”  immediately comes his low response.  Fucking immediately.

“Mando,” you gasp, scandalized and giddy enough that juice dribbles down your chin a bit.

“Are you having fun?”  Din asks, instead of pushing the conversation any further in that direction.  You don’t know if you’re thankful or disappointed with how quickly he decided to abort, but you take a moment to consider his question while swallowing and wiping your mouth.  Not the answer, you know the answer—but why he bothered to ask.  Did he know you were going to enjoy yourself as much as you have?  Your only possible lament is how you’re talking to him through a communicator instead of having him next to you.

“I am,” you say warmly.  “Be… be better if you were here, though.”

“Give me your coordinates,” Din proposes, and his voice is just low and rumbly enough to make you pause.

You’re really, really proud of yourself for only considering it for a few seconds before scoffing.  “Psh.  Nice try.”

“Was worth a shot,” he sighs through the earpiece, and you smile, taking another bite of fruit.

“Ask me again tomorrow,” you offer, grinning at the implication.

“We’ll see,” you hear him return, and though his tone doesn’t really change, you know he’s probably rolling his eyes.  He won’t have to ask for your coordinates because he’ll already be there, but it’s nice to pretend for a while longer.

And then you both walk all through the night, sharing casual banter with each other for hours.  He never once implies he wants to disconnect, even when you hit him with more nonsensical questions—

“What’s your favorite food?”  (“I don’t have one.”)

“Okay, well what about just a food that you like?”  (“I don’t like food that much.”)

“What do you mean?  Everyone loves food.”  (“Not me.”)

“Alright, well um.  What’s your favorite color, then?”  (“I don’t have one, either.”)

“Come on, you must have some kind of color you like.”  (“What’s your favorite color?”)

“…Brown.”  (“Then that’s my favorite, too.”)

—until the sun rises and you both say your goodbyes.

***

Day 1–6:15am:

You resolve to waiting until you see another person to allow your feet to touch dry land, figuring the longer you stay untraceable, the better off you’ll be.  Your toes are wrinkly and your pantlegs and shoes have been drenched for hours, but then you finally spot a few fishermen standing upstream with their backs to you, speaking to each other in the dawning light.  Two look to be full-grown, but there’s a smaller one in the middle, maybe a teenage boy, and you pause for a second, looking at the riverbank next to them.  All their valuables—water, food, bait, extra rods, but also… their shoes.

Quietly, you reach into your backpack and remove the pair of men’s shoes you bought earlier.  The ones closest to you on the shore seem to be the smallest, so you sneak over as silent as possible and rapidly make an exchange, fitting the new ones on your wet feet before allowing yourself to touch dry land and then speed walking away.

The ones you left him are newer and roughly the same size anyways—yikes, maybe slightly smaller now that you’re thinking about it—but at least you have a back pathing.  If that kid decides to take your offering and the shoes fit, Din will follow him, and if he decides to go barefoot instead, he should still follow him, right?  You’re not really aiming to trick him outright, mostly you just want him to waste more and more time.  This likely wouldn’t work if there wasn’t a time limit attached to this hunt, but you’re going to do everything you can to disappear while he’s still far enough behind you.

***

Day 1–7:06am:

You get to Devain remarkably quickly after finding the correct road.  The pit stop is much bigger than Osiruu, big enough to call an actual town instead of just a settlement, but still not large enough to feel concealed.  You want a city.  This place at least has cars and ships moving about and overhead respectively, but you’re looking for somewhere with lines.  Somewhere that feels as cramped and busy as possible.

Still, you find a restroom to use and then decide to grab some more food for your trip, happily spotting your new favorite purple fruit in one of the shop windows.  As you’re reaching out to hand the storekeeper the appropriate amount of credits, Din’s gruff voice comes through the earpiece so suddenly that you jump, nearly dropping them all on the counter.  “Hey.”

“Holy shit, what?”  You gasp, earning a confused look from the lady in front of you.  You quickly shake your head at her and mouth an apology while Din grumbles in vexation.

“You were supposed to stay on foot.”

Ah.  So he got to the bus, then.  Okay.

“Oh,” you answer ambiguously, exchanging the money for your bag of food and giving her a polite smile.  Din stays completely mute while you grab your snack, stuffing the rest of the goods in your backpack and then turning to leave—mute for so long that you have to double check you didn’t accidentally do it yourself.

“…Smart girl,” you finally hear him say.  Quietly muttered under his breath, half proud of you and half frustrated for making his job more difficult.  “Which one of these is yours then?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you announce, before taking a large bite as you leave the establishment and talking with your mouth full.  “You really gotta try the purple fruit, it’s great.”

The communicator abruptly clicks to silence on his end without anything else and you laugh so unexpectedly that a few pieces of it fly out of your mouth.

***

Day 1–1:32pm:

Somewhere miles away from you, Din jerks to a halt in the middle of a forest.

He looks around the dirt floor, walks a few paces and hears the kid coo gently from his cradle.  Behind the visor, the red footprints he’s circling are the last ones around for hundreds of meters, as far as his display can read.

His helmet slowly tilts upwards, and follows the endless maze of thick branches overhead.

With the beskar hiding his face, no one can see the way he slowly breaks into a beautiful grin.

***

Day 1–9:51pm:

Oh.  Oh stars, you’re tired.

You’ve been walking all day without really seeing anything, not having any place to disguise your tracks in the wide open plains.  You could’ve stuck to the road, but you started to feel the exhaustion creep in during the early afternoon and you wanted to be far away from other travelers and potential danger if you needed to rest.  You knew this would be a long journey when you left Devain earlier—over a day’s walk, a group of children told you—you even tried skipping or jogging a bit to see if that would inspire more energy in you, but it didn’t help much.

The large cup of caf you bought while in town was drained hours ago and it didn’t help much either, probably because your exhaustion is more physical and not necessarily mental.  It just felt like a sweet warm drink to sip before you go to sleep, that’s how much the caf helped.  Still, you kept walking, kept moving forward even as you squinted in the setting sun, your feet aching from traveling for this long wearing unfamiliar shoes.  The last time you changed them was hours ago, pulling another bus maneuver but with an air shuttle instead.  Still, you don’t think it’ll be enough.  You don’t even know where Din is but you already feel like you’re losing ground just knowing that he’s the one in pursuit.

You feel it—the hair standing up on your neck, the tingles in your hands, the stirring of your tummy—whatever the incessant gogogo that your instincts happen to scream when you’re in first place but you know the person behind you is quickly closing in.  It’s day fucking one, it’s day one and you feel him in the wind as it brushes through your hair, you can’t even pause to rest because nobody knows better than you that he’s an absolute fucking machine when he wants to be.  The kid may have powers beyond that which can be explained by the laws of nature, but Din is a force all his own.  He drives you forward when everything inside you is telling you to stop.  He keeps you awake and determined when you just desperately need to rest.

But that only goes so far.  You’re bordering on two full days without sleep, and though you’d normally be able to suffer through, the constant movement is just brutal after being confined to a stationary ship for so long.

There’s a lone tree in the distance, you think.  It’s hard to see.  Not because it’s dark—well it is, just a bit darker tonight compared to last, but mostly because your eyelids have grown heavier and more burdensome than the bag around your shoulders.  That looks like a good place to just sit for a second, right?  Maybe eat some more food, try and wake yourself up?  Yeah, that’s a good idea, you’ll head towards the tree and just… sit…

***

Day 2–12:00am:

Completely dead to the galaxy and sitting on your ass with your back against rough bark, the comm clicks and Din’s voice comes through the earpiece.

“Wake up.”

It startles you enough to make you lurch forward and jerk your head around in a panic, looking for any flash of beskar so you can instantly break opposite to it.  You scramble on all fours to look around but you don’t see anything, not even behind the trunk when you crawl, and then you take a deep breath and use the bone of your wrists to rub your eyes vigorously after a moment, knowing your hands are filthy.  “Fuck, how’d you—”

“You’re always sleepy,” Din repeats, and you collapse back into the tree with an exhausted groan, not entertained but not even having the energy to get mad about it.

“I… I gotta sleep,” you tell him, already feeling your body let go of its tension and search for the darkness of unconsciousness once more.  “Shit.  How d’you… mm.  Stay awake all the time…”

“Sleep,” Din encourages, you can still hear him walking.  “You need rest.  I’ll see you soon.”

No—

“No,” you whine like a child, moaning and shoving yourself upright.  Maker, you’re trying to focus, but asking that of yourself is almost impossible right now.  Everything swims—you were dreaming, you think, but you can’t remember and it’s not important other than to emphasize how woozy you are.  Things still feel like a dream, somehow.

You think he can hear your struggling through the comm, because the sound of his footsteps pause.  “Go to sleep.”

“You go to sleep,” you tell him bluntly, giving your head a violent shake to try and wake you up.  You want to slap your own cheek but you don’t want him to hear it.  “I can’t sleep if you don’t.”

“I’ve have at least a couple more days in me before that happens,” Din murmurs, and you bet he knows exactly what the fuck he’s doing to you.  You start to slouch, hearing the voice he uses when he’s curled around your body in the darkness of the hull.  So warm, so gentle.  If you use your imagination, you can feel his fingers drawing slow circles on your back, the vibration of his low voice rumbling against your ear as you lay your head on his chest.  “If I hunt you the way I’d hunt a quarry, I’m going to find you before you wake up.”

“Then I’ll jus’ have to… not let tha’ happen,” you slur.  Even this close to unconsciousness, you try your best to throw in a misdirect.  “Already… paid for the bed an’ everything.”

“Sure you did.  You in another tree?”

You immediately frown even as your eyes drop closed, too tired to fight but still managing to sound upset.  “You makin’ fun of me?”  You ask him with a harumph.  Genuinely, you’re not smart enough to figure it out right now.

“Not hardly,” Din sighs, sounding… you don’t know.  Is that displeasure or not?  It’s not immediately clear.  Does it sound that way because you’re just dumb stupid right now?  Or because Din can’t actually decide how he feels about it?  “Lucky I heard water over the comm last night, I would’ve wasted hours in that forest.”

“Noooo,” you whine in response, trying to push yourself off the tree but tipping sideways in the process, “that’s not fair—”

“Fair wasn’t part of the rules,” he repeats himself again and… nope, you don’t even have the energy to snark something back.  You just grumble your best imitation of him while you do everything you can to heave yourself upright.  It’s pitiful, you lose your balance not even halfway through and just plop on the grass for a second and groan.

“Stop,” Din eventually orders through the earpiece, tired of it.  “What’s sixteen times itself?”

You’re loopy to the point where you don’t even question why he decided to ask you that.  You just furrow your brows for a second and try to think about it, before suddenly realizing you… don’t know, you can’t remember.  Multiplication tables and squares up to twenty are elementary to you, you know them by heart.  Sixteen times sixteen.  One forty-four.  No… no that doesn’t sound right, is that twelv—

You take way too long answering what would’ve been an immediate response two days ago.

“I’ll stop here for tonight,” Din tells you with a resolved sigh.  “I won’t move until you wake up.  Go to sleep.  You’re putting yourself in danger, you can’t even do the basics.”

Later, this moment will come back to you.  That problem isn’t basic, not many adults would be able to tell you very quickly that the answer is two fifty-six.  You don’t even think Din would.  You would, though.  On Naboo, you used rapidly applied trigonometry in your head to find his location, and that was barely two minutes after waking up.  You should know this.  And he knows you.

But for right now, you don’t pay it a single lick of attention.

“You promise?”  You ask quietly, voice incredibly small as your head tilts back towards the sky, already feeling yourself beginning to fall back into the darkness again.

“I promise,” he vows in return, gentle but a promise nonetheless.  He doesn’t have to do this.  You wouldn’t be able to keep going even if he didn’t offer up this temporary truce, but knowing he isn’t currently gaining ground on you makes the idea of sleep so much more welcoming, something you want to seek out instead of fight.

“Will you, um…” your expression furrows.  How do you say this?  You sigh, giving up before even trying to figure it out.  “I’m… not in a bed.  I’m outside.”

Din doesn’t say anything when you pause, and even through the haze wanting to take over, you know it’s going to sound needy.  You want him to stay.  Even in the midst of an adventure, you want him to stay, you want to hear him breathe as you rest, but there’s not really an integrous way to ask.

You don’t need to ask.

“I’ll keep the comm open and wake you when the sun rises,” comes his lulling baritone before you can elaborate anymore, enveloping you in comfort in this dreadfully uncomfortable bed of grass and dirt.  “Sleep, sweet girl.  I’m right here.”

***

Day 2–5:34am:

The sun shines over the hills and you lift your head up to squint your eyes at it, confused as fuck.  Looking down at your wrist to check the time in the warm rays, hands and clothes dirty from laying on the ground that long—you stay groggy and clueless for just a moment longer, before your heart lurches when you remember Din’s promise to you.

You open your mouth to address him but then catch yourself just in time.  Wait.  Don’t panic.  Listen.

Breathing.  Slow and relaxed through the earpiece, a rhythm now branded into your memory from months of nights spent in pitch black.  He’s… asleep.

Din is asleep?  Seriously?

You can count like… twice that this has happened, and one of those was because he got you to touch him just right after closing up a wound on his back, and his body couldn’t handle the strain and passed out.  You’re never awake when he’s asleep—you’re just not, it doesn’t happen.  Din… sleeps like it’s just a choice for him, he doesn’t ever really need it.  Almost like how he used to eat before he started sharing meals with you, he said he doesn’t even like food that much.  You think he just severed all of those things long ago, things that are basic fundamentals of survival and operated like a bounty droid that lost its voice box.  It’s… nice, feeling like you’re somehow giving back some of the things he lost.  Unintentionally encouraging him to find sleep again.  Making sure he eats more, listening to him speak.

You struggle to your feet as quietly as possible, hearing him continue to breathe slow and relaxed through the communicator.  This isn’t purposeful, you don’t think he actually allowed it.  He promised you, and Din doesn’t take shit back.  If he tells you he’ll do something and he doesn’t follow through, it’s either out of his control or a mistake, it’s never been purposeful.  He didn’t mean to fall asleep.

And, in other circumstances, you most definitely would not find some way to take advantage of this.  You’d let him sleep and do other things in the meantime—make some food for you and the kid, find something on the Crest that isn’t spotless and clean until it is, or just… lay there next to him until he woke up.  But… these circumstances are their own.  You have to capitalize now, this is your chance.  You passed out last night around… ten pm, you think it was, and then he promised to stop at midnight.  That means you have to walk at least two hours before he wakes up if you want to prevent any loss of ground—you don’t know where he stopped, he could be a few miles back even.

You have to find Nariss—you have to.  It’s your only option, if you keep trying to run, it’s just going to make it so much easier for him.  Now is the time to hide.  You know it hasn’t been long, it’s barely been two days since you first left the Crest but it feels like you’re already in endgame, already making moves in self-defense instead of actually planning your maneuvers ahead of time.

The capital should be half a day’s walk from here, then.  As long as you get there, you think you’ll be okay.

***

Day 2–8:28am:

Din’s groan suddenly comes through your ear.

You immediately stop, seeing a busy road in the distance and glad you haven’t quite made it there yet, before trying to disguise your voice as drowsy.  “Mm?”

“Shit,” he breathes, and you hear him get up, the sound of beskar moving as he grunts.

“Mpph,” you groan back, squinting your eyes to see if that’ll help sell the act.  “I thought you… Mando, fuck, y’said you’d wake me when the sun came up.”

“I… fell asleep,” he admits, voice rough with it, sounding just as confused as you felt earlier.

“You said you had days in you before that happened,” you murmur, taking a deep breath and stretching your arms up above your head.  Stars, your back hurts, how does he possibly manage to carry a fucking jet pack around all the time?

“Yeah, I…”  He pauses for a moment and you bite your lip, not liking the quiet as soon as you hear it.  “How long have you been up?”

Op.  Not good.  “Wha?”

He’s not falling for it.  “How long?”

How in Maker’s name?  This is impossible.  How can you hope to hide from him when you can’t even manage to hide the smallest fucking truth from him?  Can you salvage this somehow?  “…Like ten minutes.”

“Least a few hours, then,” he sighs, and you get ready to hit him with the same line he used when you complained about his leg-up, opening your mouth as soon as you hear him speak.  “That was smar—”

“Fair wasn’t part of—”

Oh.  Well.  Apparently you didn’t have a reason to feel shitty about deciding to haul ass while he was passed out even though you kind of ended up doing so anyways.  There was no agreement besides that he wouldn’t move until you woke up.  Reason is on your side, but it still feels a bit like you fucked him over.  Is that valid or are you just so used to being nice that putting yourself first feels like a wrong you’ve committed?

“Don’t feel bad,” Din tells you, and you hear a soft coo in the background.  It makes you smile the smallest bit, your shoulders relaxing even as they ache from carrying your pack around.  “You should feel bad about stealing that poor kid’s shoes, though.  He walked home barefoot.”

You smack your forehead.  “It was just….”

“Yeah,” he scoffs when you don’t finish your sentence, and you can’t keep back a giggle.  “Alright, I’m up now.  See you when you get here.”

And then the communicator clicks, and you’re…

Uh.  What the fuck was that?

No.  Nope, you’re not going to get played.  That was a brilliant attempt at fucking with you, but you’re not falling for it this time.  You’ve grown since that night on Canto Bight, you know him, he can’t just say shit to fuck with your head and then smile at your flailing response from under the helmet anymore.  You normally would stew in that last comment until it got to you, made you make a mistake most likely, but the more you think about it, the more certain you are that he has nothing.  He was just trying to see if you’ll abandon your entire plan just by implying he already knows it.  That’s beginner shit, you’re not falling for it.  Din wanted to leave the conversation with the upper-hand since you gained at least an hour of extra ground while he slept.  You’re certain of it.

***

Day 2–12:35pm:

Nariss is big.  Nowhere near the size of Coruscanti sectors of course, where billions of people are packed from surface to exosphere and require oxygen recirculation towers to breathe at the very top, but just slightly bigger than you expected.  It’s bustling and you haven’t even made it through the city gates yet—you’re approaching them and the large number of people waiting in line, seeing buildings stretch out for miles in front of you and grinning.  Yes, this will work nicely.

As you peek over shoulders in the sizable crowd, you see only two or three people allowing people to enter one at a time… is that a biometric scanner?

Oh.  That looks good and it also doesn’t look good at the same time.  If Din’s safety meant nothing to you, you’d have no trouble whatsoever getting in line and waiting to do a retinal scan, but you immediately pause and consider the potential consequences.

Your dumb ass almost weighs the option of clicking the communicator on and asking his opinion.  You’d give away your location in a heartbeat (if he doesn’t know it already) just because you’re worried he’d… what, exactly?  Stand in line for an hour, take his helmet off in front of a crowd of people, have the system ping his scan, and then hang out and wait for New Republic reinforcements to show?  You have to stop worrying about him.  He’s not a baby, he can handle himself and you need to stop considering the possibility of taking a loss just so he doesn’t have to, even if the self-destructive sentiment feels ingrained in your nature to do so.

So you wait in line, moving at a slow pace but at least moving.  While you’re standing there quietly, a man in front of you decides to strike up a conversation.  You don’t come from a place with an excess of people, but the ones in your sector were friendly and did this kind of thing often, so perhaps for that reason, you decide to chat.

“Do you have some place to stay?”  He asks at one point.  So far the conversation has revolved around him—every time he asks about you, you deflect.  He doesn’t need to know.  “Nariss isn’t kind to drifters.”

This catches your attention, though.  This is relevant.  “What does that mean?”

“It’s expensive?”  He scratches his blonde hair, giving you a soft smile.  “Food, housing, all of it is way out of my price-range.  I stay with my uncle and work overnights at the eastern docks.  It’s not much, but it’s enough to keep a roof over our heads.  We used to live in Gibrath, but then we moved to the city because he’s a good architect and they’re always expanding.  It’s nice, of course, but really expensive.”

He’s handsome, you think… in kind of a boyish, charming way.  Blonde hair, sparkly blue eyes.  He doesn’t look much older than you, and maybe in another lifetime you would’ve found him appealing, but… you like darker features, you think.  Someone a little less expressive.  This guy… talks a lot.

“I thought this moon was a safe world for people displaced by the Empire,” you offer, taking a step forward as the entire crowd shifts.

“Sanctuary II is,” he comments.  “The capital is safe, too—what, with all the orangies walking around,” he tilts his head to two jumpsuited guards trying to organize the glob of people so the line can move faster, rolling his eyes as if they’re some kind of joke.  “But not… welcoming, not if you’re looking for a place to settle.  You would’ve been better off in G’ila.”

“Is there anywhere you know that would take me for free?”  You ask.  You have quite a few credits left, but you don’t think it’s a good idea to stay in an inn.  It’ll be the first place Din checks.

“Are you a virgin?”  He returns, and you immediately pull back at the unexpected question, your heart thudding at the possibility of danger.  The man’s sandy eyebrows shoot up at your response and he quickly apologizes—“Heavens, I’m so sorry to ask like that!  It’s just… the only place I know is the Holy Keja Orphanage on the northern outskirts.  Their signs say they only house children and teenagers, but I’ve heard from other girls your age that they’ll accept any woman as long as they’ve stayed pure in the eyes of the Maker.”

“Oh,” you say after a moment, leaning sideways to see just a few people standing in front of him.  Good, this is almost over.  “Um.  Yep.  That’s me.”

He smiles at you once more, giving you a nod.  “When you get to the city, just go straight through.  It’s about a mile outside of the gates, no more than a day’s walk from this side of town.”

Okay, that’s… interesting.  You think about it while you thank him and begin to exchange polite goodbyes, moving up another step until he’s next in line.  That might actually be a good move.  Din could spend a long time in the city without ever finding you.  Smart quarry go to populated places, but… smarter quarry defy the expectations placed upon them, right?  He knows you’re smart, and even though you’re confident his “See you when you get here” was purely psychological fuckery, that also implies… at the very least, that he’s assuming there is a here to get to.  Meaning, he knows you’re not going into the wilderness to evade him.  He’s not going to comb the outskirts when there are so many places to hide within the city gates, with an entire perimeter of New Republic guards stationed around it.  Even if he does, the signs will say only children and teenagers—categories you do not fall into.

The unnamed man is soon ushered forward but you stop him quickly.  “Oh, by the way.  I doubt this will happen, but if a man in a big metal suit with a tiny green baby happen to ask you the same thing, please don’t tell him what you just told me.”

He furrows his eyebrows at you and cocks his head, but smiles and agrees nonetheless.

***

Day 2–5:43pm:

You have an idea.

You’ve been working on it all afternoon, but you were hit with it the second you were looking for another pair of shoes to buy and find a clever way of putting on.

The cheapest ones were ridiculously overpriced, blonde dude was right.  You blinked down at the tag and asked the salesman where the cheapest shoes in this part of town were, and then he just wrinkled his nose at you and shooed you out of the store.  Granted, you slept in dirt and spent two days walking—you bet you reek, but he didn’t have to be like that.

Though, the man’s displeasure with you had an upside.  You were holding a possible pair of pants and a shirt to buy when he threw you out, not yet having checked the atrocious pricetag on them, but it appeared as if he’d rather let you have them for free than rip them from your… admittedly, pretty filthy arms.  Oh well, you weren’t complaining.  Fancy clothes for free, score.

But now you’re here, and you have the best idea.  You don’t need to change shoes, not yet.  Why?  Because you’ve figured out how to turn your incessant detriment into an advantage.

You’re in the middle of downtown, you think, maybe just some random crowded square, and there’s an inn in front of you.  It’s fucking enormous, and you already know it’s gotta be incredibly expensive just looking at the sheer number of stories.  It’s an eyesore, it sticks out.  But that’s okay, because you’re only planning on staying for a night.

It’s also… right next to New Republic headquarters.  Or fuck, at least a station of some sort, because they’re swarming in and out of the constant crowd, passing by the valet doors.

At first you naturally wanted to steer away from the jumpsuits, since you know they’re bad news for Din, but then you remember what he said before you left.  I’m only telling you so that you’ll know your advantage and find a way to exploit it.  I can’t be seen by any officers, or they might arrest me.

It’s to your advantage, he said so himself.  Everything lines up perfectly—the street is bustling, the inn is well protected, it’s nice—it’s everything you’re looking for.

And there’s another upside, see.  An omnipresent, omniscient ghost in the form of a communicator clipped to your wrist right now.  If Din is always going to be able to predict you, he’s always going to know when you’re lying, always be able to read you… then you’ll just have to let him.

Let him know.  Let him know exactly where you are.  Right in the middle of the most populated street you’ve seen thus far, a constant barrage of people walking by and New Republic officers patrolling.  If you were planning on staying in the city, this would probably be your best option to hide.  He could waste days here if you’re smart about it.

The concierge doesn’t appear too pleased with your lack of cleanliness and neither do you, honestly, but at least he allows you to book a suite for the night.  It’s… not as bad as you were originally assuming, credits-wise, but it’s worth more than half your stash and you’re going to have to conserve from this point on.  It shouldn’t be too bad—your destination is a holy orphanage, you’re sure they’ll have some extra food and a bed for you even if it won’t be ideal.  Still, you think you’re going to enjoy some lavish experiences for once in your life before you go.

***

Day 2–11:54pm:

Alright, so this was the best idea ever.  This is the shit.

You’re leaning back against a fluffy stack of pillows, squeaky clean from an absolutely glorious bath and watching the flickering drama on the large holonet display in front of you.  You don’t have any idea what’s going on, as it’s being broadcast in Rodian, but you haven’t been able to change the frequency because it’s so fucking intense—somebody’s sister is their mother, you think?  No, that must be a mistranslation, right?

You’re also in a robe.  Yes, there is a motherfucking robe in here.  And… and slippers, it’s like a dream.  Do people normally wear slippers in bed?  You do.  Hell, maybe you should stay here, screw the credits and the chase.  This mattress is even better than the one on Naboo and you’re basking in the luxury after being outdoors for so long.

The lights are off other than that and you’ve opened the drapes wide, knowing you’re on something like the fifteenth floor and nobody would be able to see you anyways.  You just like being able to turn your head and look out at the sky.  Violent and periwinkle tonight.  You wonder if he’s looking, too.

Luckily, you snap yourself back out of it and glance down at the time on your communicator, quickly pressing a button on the remote to mute the Rodian show and then opening the line the moment the hour changes.

Day 3–12:00am:

“Hiya, Shiny,” you say before anything else, laying back and running a few fingers through your damp hair.  Your eyes close against the flickering light, taking a slow, relaxed breath.  Maker, this feels nice.

“You sound happy,” Din comments.  Astute, you feel happy.  Well… you’d obviously feel happier if he was here.  Your eyes flick over to the open bathroom door, still steamy from your bubble bath earlier, imagining him walking through it completely naked and then climbing over you on the covers.  You can only really picture it from the neck down—no, hang on… you can see his shaggy brown curls, that one spot on his forehead you know, how his facial hair would be dark and frame his mouth.  No face, though.  Missing just one fraction of him from your imagination, feeling incomplete but also somehow… complete in a way.

“I feel better after sleeping last night,” you tell him, purposefully leaving out the softness of the sheets underneath you, the sheer comfort of all this extravagance.  You don’t need it, you’ll never need it, but it feels nice to have for once.

“I do, too,” he replies quietly, and your eyes flutter closed.  You… miss him.  This mattress would feel softer with him next to you.  He’d probably be able to translate this show for you, even though you already know he’d fucking hate it.  You can imagine it—you with your eyes closed, him propped up on an elbow next to you and grumbling vague descriptions of the nonsense happening on screen just to hear your chuckles.  Adventures are great, but maybe they aren’t as great by yourself, you think.

“You should sleep tonight, too,” you encourage, but he scoffs.

“Not a chance,” Din mutters.  “Oh, before I forget, we need to charge the communicators today.”

“How am I supposed to do that?”  You ask him, glancing at all the multiple wireless charging outlets stationed around you.  “I’m in the middle of nowhere.”

He doesn’t even take a fucking second before responding.  “Good one.”

You grin up at the ceiling, warmth flooding you.  You love him.  Literally every single time, he just knows.  Your curiosity is too overwhelming after this happening so often.  Your plan to distract him relies on him being able to read you, but that doesn’t prevent you from wondering how he does it so accurately, time and time again.  “How do you know?”

“You slept outside last night,” he immediately tells you, like that should mean anything to you.

Does he… does he truly know you well enough to know how much your back and shoulders hurt today?  How much you were aching for a shower and clean clothes?  A bed to sleep on that isn’t dirt or metal?  You give into the accurate prediction with shameless honesty, not caring if he knows it’s the truth.

“This bed is soft,” you murmur gently, dragging your hand across the mattress next to you.  “You should be here.  I’d make you feel good.”

Admittedly, your comfort is making you a bit drowsy and you said it in the easiest way possible, but you didn’t necessarily mean it sexually.  Well… you sort of did—you’d make him feel so good in this bed—but what you meant was more… comforting.  He could take a bath, or a shower, and get all the grime off him.  He could feel clean and unburdened, take a break instead of constantly moving around.  The baby could have a whole bed to himself if he wanted, though you know he’d probably want to be on this one instead.  You could all look at the sky together.

Din is quiet for a little bit, before his voice comes back through the earpiece.  “Are you in an inn?”

“No,” you say, a little too quickly.  Perfect, that sounded just right for a lie.  You are lying, you absolutely are in an inn, the only difference is that you want him to catch on that it’s a lie, so… why does he take way too long before responding?

“Hm.”

What the fuck—why… how is it even physically possible?  He read you that deeply from one single word?  You’re not sure if he’s somehow psychic and figured the whole fucking thing out or if he just knows there’s something off, but it’s still enough to blow you away.

“Are you doing this on purpose?”  You blurt without thinking.

“Doing what?”  He grunts, sounding like he’s stepping over something, his breath changing intensity as he walks.

“If I look out this window right now, am I gonna see you standing out there just messing with me?”  You don’t even know what to believe anymore.  How do you beat this?  If you don’t want him to know the truth, he’ll figure it out, and if you do want him to know the truth, he’ll still figure it out.  His perception is unbelievable.

After a moment of silence, he murmurs gently through the comm.  “I thought you said you were in the middle of nowhere.”  It sounds like he’s smiling.

“I…”  your eyes shift around awkwardly, “am…”

Din lets out a deep sigh.  He’s right, that was bad, even for you.  “I found your bed a few hours ago,” he admits.  You close your eyes as you listen to him make his way closer to you, step by step.  “I’m nowhere near the city yet.  You have time to sleep.”

Your expression furrows and you frown.  “Why are you helping me?”

“Why do you want me to think you’re in an inn?”  He tosses back, and you huff.

“Because I’m trying to outsmart you but you make it really fucking difficult,” you grumble, not happy about him catching on so quick.

“You’ve also gained about four hours on me since we started.”  His voice is gruff.  You don’t know if he thinks it’s a good thing or a bad thing.  “You should give yourself more credit.  I thought I would’ve found you by now, never expected you to get all the way to Nariss.  It’s… not good for me.”

The honesty creeping in makes you go soft.  It makes you want to reciprocate, even if it’s dumb and you haven’t thought it all the way through.  “Wanna know a secret?”

“Tell me.”  His voice is a bed all its own, deep and gentle and safe.

You say it before you lose the nerve.  “I might just turn around and walk back.”

His footsteps stop and you hear a small sound in the background, a quiet little baby noise that suddenly makes your heart ache.  You’re comfortable but incredibly aware of how alone you are.  People pass by on the streets below, cars and hoverbikes honk in the distance and you’re by yourself.  For the first time in over a year, like you have been for years, you’re by yourself.

“Sweet girl,” Din sighs, and all of a sudden… you can feel his arms around you with it.  You feel so… known, somehow.  Every sentiment you could’ve possibly given in your last sentence, he relays his understanding back with his.  He makes you feel loved with it.  “Never wants to run.”

You don’t say anything, because you suddenly realize you’re totally fucking whipped, up down and sideways for his metal ass and the little floating grimlin that follows him around, and you would throw away the fifth quarry, adventure, the sky—literally everything if you could be with the both of them right now.

But again.  You don’t have to say anything, he already knows.  “Give me your coordinates.”

Your eyes pop open and you bite your lip.  Oh, stars.  You hate that you do genuinely consider it.  He could be here, and very soon.  With the jet pack, both of them could be here in less than an hour, probably.  He could take a shower.  Watch these stupid shows with you all night without needing to be on the move, help you build a bed of pillows for the kid on top of this one.  You could be with both of them again, even if it’s only for a little while.

“Ask me again tomorrow,” you finally whisper, looking down at the soft white fabric of your robe, the way one of your slippers is falling off your foot as the holonet program continues to play on mute.

Din’s footsteps eventually start up again, and you both relax in silence together.  You, squinting at the screen because your eyes are getting heavy; him, continuing to travel step by step and gain ground on you.  Let him come.  You’ll be long gone by the time he even makes it to the gates.

It’s been about ten minutes of shared, quiet existence before you hear him bite into something and chew, and your face suddenly lights up.

“Are you eating the purple fruit?”  You ask, your slipper falling off with excitement.  You don’t know why, but it’s like… you’re stoked for him.  Just as proud of him for doing normal things as he does when you step out of your own comfort zone.  You like to think you’re both better that way.  Balanced.

“Mm,” Din replies with his mouth full, and you grin down at your bare legs peeking through the robe while he swallows.

“Is it not the best thing you’ve ever tasted?”  Your voice goes a little breathless with it, and you hear his footsteps stop once more.

“Close,” Din murmurs lowly, sending a small shudder through you.  It suddenly feels a bit warm in here, doesn’t it?  This morning was one of the rare times you were awake while he was asleep… it’s almost always the other way around, and just from the implication in his tone, you’re reminded of the thing he likes doing most when you’re resting.  Maybe he’ll let you do it to him, next time around.  The thought gets you hot enough to warrant the other slipper falling to the floor.

“You’re alone, right?”  You whisper, knowing he must’ve pulled the helmet up to take a bite of the fruit.  He must still be following your path through the hillside, then, not yet reaching the road.

“The kid is awake,” Din tells you, sounding like he’s trying to stop everything before anything starts.  His words are short and clear in their meaning, but…

This has a very small chance of success, you already know.  “…Do you want to—”

“No,” he responds quickly, already way ahead of you.  “We can’t.”

Something in his voice… you don’t know, there’s just something there that makes you feel just a little reckless.  Should you push it?  You’re by yourself in this suite, what can go wrong?

“You can’t,” you correct him quietly, shifting around on the bed just a bit and biting your lip.  It’s a thrill—being able to tease him without having him in front of you, drive him crazy knowing you’re just out of his reach.  “But I can do whatever I want, can’t I?”

There’s a pause, a tense and knowing silence suspended between you before he eventually speaks.

“I’d be real careful,” Din mutters low in warning, but what is he gonna do?

“What are you gonna do?”  You whisper to him devilishly.  Quiet and breathy, beginning to snake your hand down.  Stars, your heart is already pounding.  You’d only likely mouth off like this in person just to see how hard he’d fuck you, but this feels extra dangerous for some reason.  He’s stuck, he can’t do anything about it right now, and you know it’s playing with fire.  “You could hang up if you don’t want to hear me.  Or you could find me before I’m finished.  Come make me stop.”

Din doesn’t say anything but he very much does not hang up, nor does he come busting into your room like you imagine he’d like to.  The sheer fact that your door is still closed and locked tells you for sure that he isn’t just hanging out in the hallway, just letting you have your fun.

You start pressing your fingers against your robe at the apex of your thighs, humming at how nice the pressure feels.  You don’t even spread your legs or push the fabric away, you just sigh into it and wiggle your hips a bit, pressing hard against your clit and listening to him breathe.

“Do you want to listen?”  You ask quietly after a moment, and Din still doesn’t respond.  Likely because there’s not a real answer, both yes and no would imply the wrong thing.  “I’ll talk.”

Still, nothing from him.  Dead silence through the comm.  You’re starting to understand.  For two days, you’ve felt like he could read your every thought just by the cadence of your voice.  He’s staying quiet so you can’t even attempt to do the same to him—if he doesn’t talk, you can’t find a weakness and pounce on it, you can’t feel any more confident or reassured about your own ability to read him.

You’ll just have to push a little harder, then.

“Hm.  If only this fancy communicator could…” you pause to look down at your wrist for a second, studying the menu.  You don’t think you’ve ever really looked at it, you never had the time.

Din’s growl is sudden and sharp through the earpiece.  “No, don’t even think—”

“Ah,” you smile, tapping the face and immediately finding the correct screen.  “Take pictures.”

He’s deadly quiet for a moment, and you bite your lip with excitement.  When he does speak, his voice is a pure threat, chilling you to the bone as much as it burns deep in your tummy.  “…You wouldn’t.”

Ignoring him, you suddenly locate a menu option that sounds phenomenal right now.  “Oh shit, does this holocall?  Or is it a video option?”

“Holo,” he says very seriously while you study the lack of complexity of the built-in camera in skepticism, “and the kid is awake, so you can’t—”

“Oh, it’s definitely a video,” you unclip it from your wrist and he curses as you sit up, and then you press a button and wait impatiently for him.  “Pick up.”

Din takes forever before responding, and you hear the continuous beeps as it attempts to connect, before his quiet baritone rumbles in your ear.  “What if I don’t?”

You feel your mouth pull down at the corners, not so much frowning as you are dubious.  He’s going to turn down the opportunity to see you and your surroundings when his whole goal is locating you?  Really?

“You sure?”  You ask softly, raising an eyebrow.  “You’d get to see me, where I am.  What I’m…” your eyes dip down to the loose robe riding your curves, your skin glowing against the white fabric, “…wearing.”

The beeps continue on for a few more seconds, until they finally stop.  You frown down at the black screen of the communicator, not seeing anything at all.  Did he decline the transmission request?  No… there’s a little red light next to the small lens that wasn’t there before.  Why can’t you see him?

“Why can’t I see you?”  You ask.  You want to look at him looking at you, you don’t want to always be stuck on the other side of a one-way mirror.

“I… have it linked to my helmet, but it only has a front-facing camera,” Din tells you after a moment, and he sounds… slightly out of breath.  “Easier to see, the watch is useless now besides the controls.”

Wait, does that mean you’re… being shown on the inner-display of his helmet instead of his wrist?  Right in front of his eyes, as if he were actually here with you?

“Nobody can see me but you?”  You clarify, and when he doesn’t respond, you bite your lip and lean back into the pillows.  You lift the watch up slightly, extending your arm out until you can get the angle as wide as possible.  “Can you see… this?”  You ask softly, before hooking your fingers in the collar of your white robe and slowly pulling it open for him.

“Where are you?”  Din asks instead, and you hear his footsteps through the earpiece, as if he’s walking away from something very quickly.

You don’t answer him, parting the soft fabric until your breasts are completely exposed and you sigh, closing your eyes and snuggling back into the pillows once more.  “I’ll tell you where I am if you keep watching me.”

“Why?”  Din grits in frustration, coming back around to the same dangerous question he had earlier.  “Why would you do that?”

“I don’t know.”  You slowly tilt the camera down until you can spread your legs and the robe falls open with the movement, letting him see your pussy peeking through in the flickering light of the muted screen in front of your bed.  “Can you see that?”

“Yeah,” he says shakily on the end of a breath, and you feel yourself get wet.  Fuck, he sounds so fucking tempted, the sight making his voice come without any of the self-assuredness as it usually has, but… he could also just be saying that.  How do you know he’s telling you the truth?

“What am I doing?”  You test him, lifting your knee just the slightest bit so you really give him something to look at.

“Spreading your legs for a camera,” Din responds without hesitation, voice scraping against your ear, making you shiver and your nipples harden.  Fuck, the way he says it, like it’s wrong and bad even though he’s the only one who can see or hear you do it… it makes you feel even more naughty and emboldened.

You bite your lip and reach your hand down to spread your lips for him, too, hearing his breath immediately catch on the other end.  Already your pussy makes your fingers slick against your soft skin, the sash of your robe still holding the fabric together on your body but also loose enough to allow it to part in the right places and reveal everything you want him to see.

“I am in an inn,” you whisper teasingly, letting your finger drop to brush against your clit and then sighing in soft delight.  Oh stars, that feels nice, it feels so good to treat yourself after being completely nomadic for two days, getting to be clean and soft and comfortable while you feel this pleasure, and Din’s voice growls through your communicator like you’re doing something painful to him.

“Fuck,” his breathing picks up while you begin circling your clit.  “Where?”

“Nariss,” comes your quiet moan, turning your head on the pillow to blink slowly at the camera.  Wanting him to see your eyes as well as your finger slowly dip into where you’re the hottest, caressing the sensitive skin there knowing he’s watching.

“Where in Nariss?”  Din’s voice is as pleading as it is sharp, desperately trying to keep either you or himself on track.

“I don’t know,” you say again.  Truthfully, you don’t—you don’t know the cross streets, you don’t know the part of town, you don’t know much of anything at all besides physical descriptors.  You quickly move the camera to the side as far as you can hold it and let him see you from a different angle with the window as a backdrop.  “But the window is open.  And there are lots of people outside.”

“Can they see you?”  Din immediately challenges.  Of course they can’t, you’re fifteen stories up and the room is darker than it is outside with all the city lights and swirling colors of the sky, but you suppose he doesn’t know that.  You think he just needs to relax—if this is what he’s always like during hunts, you now know exactly why he comes back to you all riled up and tense.

“I don’t know,” you murmur back, starting to rub your clit a little faster, trying to make it feel like him.  It doesn’t—your fingers aren’t large or strong enough to give you those perfect circles; you just feel like you’re meandering yourself towards ecstasy instead of picking you up and hauling your ass there like he does, but it’s okay.  Hearing Din’s rough breathing come through the earpiece, knowing his hands are probably clenched tight into fists, wondering if he’s hard yet… all of it culminates into a power trip unlike any you’ve experienced recently.  It makes you bold, tells you to open your mouth.  “Does it matter?  I’d still let you fuck me against it if you were here.”

“Stop it,” comes his growl, but what is he gonna do?

Your leg lifts a little wider so you can slowly slide your fingers down and push two of them inside yourself, and Din swears as you moan, “Come find me.”

“Give me your coordinates—”

“Are you giving up?”  You offer breathlessly, lifting your eyebrows and your hips up slightly at the question, but you’re… not expecting the extended silence following.  You assumed a growled no would immediately come next, or just another empty threat said with enough force to make you tremble with excitement, but not… nothing.

The response makes you pause just for a second, easing your fingers out and dragging them across your thigh to clean some of the wetness off before extending your arm out towards the communicator.  Din stays quiet while you navigate through the menu with trembling fingers, eventually finding your coordinates and hovering over the unchecked share location box.

You wait with your lip bit, confident he knows what you’re doing and you don’t have to narrate or repeat yourself.  Fuck, you knew you were considering abandoning this entire adventure just to be next to him again, but you had no idea.  No fucking idea that it could ever be a thought in his own mind as well.  You… assumed he likes this, hunting is what he does for a living and he’s the one who conceived of the idea in the first place.  Is he just that aroused by you?  Or is there something more?

“No,” Din eventually murmurs, and you immediately navigate out of the menu so you don’t accidentally press anything catastrophic, before pulling your hand away from the communicator with a resolved hum and settling back into the pillows again.  Making sure to look directly into the lens even if your eyelids are heavy with heat and desire, you slowly lick your fingers and then reach down once more.

His deep, shaky breath is so telling.  Exhausted after all this, but still not hanging up, still doing his hardest to tough it out when he’s only miles away from you and has jets attached to his back.  You don’t want to drag it out but you also do, you want to be kind but something about Din makes you also want to be as formidable as possible.  You’ll never be able to threaten like he does, you’ll never have anyone cower just because you walked into the room, you’ll never be as powerful or strong as he is, but you can still put up a fucking fight against him in your own way.

You whimper softly, your breathing beginning to find a quicker pace as surely as your fingers do.  It begins to spark and build, a red hot flame being kindled by the knowledge that he’s as close as possible without actually being close, right here with you when he always seems so far away.

“Mando,” you whisper, though your expression pulls inwards just slightly because it… in a scenario as sensual and intimate as this, it almost doesn’t sound righ—

“Din,” he whispers back, so quiet you almost don’t hear it, like he almost doesn’t want to but has to anyways, and then you just start to fucking burn.

“D-Din,” you whisper instead, trying to keep your voice as quiet as possible through the rising swell.  He’ll be able to see it, you think.  The way your tummy and chest start to heave, how your body begins to brace for it—and yeah, Maker, he sees it, because his voice suddenly changes.

“Stop,” Din growls roughly, knowing exactly how you cum—knowing exactly what it looks like, the way it sounds in your breathing, what it tastes like, how it feels on the inside.  It’s been so long since you’ve touched bliss without him, months and months since you brought yourself to completion on the floor of the Crest by yourself, and though he’s rarely ever denied you, your own high on newfound control causes it to slip.  He barks your name and tells you to stop once more, but it’s too late.

“I’m gonna cum, Din,” you breathe out—

“Don’t—”

It tears through you, rapid and surging, and he snarls a curse, something loud snapping and thudding and… did he just punch something?  You can’t think, it’s delicious and hard as fuck and everything you needed after two days of near constant movement and thought with little rest, and you bite your lip to keep quiet but a pained whimper still shoves its way out of your tense vocal cords regardless.  It sounds like it hurts because it does hurt; the orgasm shatters your body into pieces and you’re left trembling by yourself on this soft bed, wishing he was with you on a metal one.

You sink into the mattress in the moments following, sluggish and exhausted and just conscious enough to keep the watch facing you.  You bet the camerawork was terrible, shaky at best, but you can’t find it in yourself to care right now.  You just lay there and listen to his harsh breathing while you work to slow your heart rate, reveling in the filthy little show you just gave him and wanting to finish it out properly.

“Come find me,” you breathe out once more, lazing soft and naked for him, blinking dazedly at the watch as you pan it over you.  Your thighs are still twitching and there’s a thin sheen of sweat clinging to you, but you drag a finger through your swollen lips and carefully wipe the wetness across one of your nipples.  “Clean me up.”

“Fuck,” Din suddenly spits through the earpiece, furious.  “You think—y-you think—”

“What?”  You hum, basking in the afterglow and so, so curious.  Truly, you’re dumb as fuck, you have no clue what you’re thinking, but if anybody would be able to tell you, it’s him.

There’s a moment where his breathing stops.  It’s completely silent on the line, before you hear another few heavy footsteps on his end pick up and then halt just as quickly.

“You think you can taunt me?”   He murmurs, dangerous and deadly quiet.  “Show me exactly where you are, disappear and then make me waste forever trying to get there?  You think that’s gonna work?”

Your eyebrow lifts, considering.  He… may or may not have predicted your strategy perfectly, but his insight has stopped surprising you by now.  “Maybe…”

“Maybe you shouldn’t fall asleep tonight.”

Ooh.  That one sends goosebumps down your arms, but you’ve gained four hours on top of a twelve hour headstart.  He can’t scare you with that tone, not when you’re still woozy with pleasure and he isn’t right in front of you.  Instead of wilting beneath the hard threat, you just blink gently at the communicator, finding strength in being the only one to get him this mad when he’s always so composed, this talkative when he barely says a word.  “Maybe I’ll just stay here then?”

“Maybe you wanted me to know you’re in an inn because you already found someplace to hide that isn’t one,” Din reasons very, very adeptly.  Stars, your heart subtly begins to pick up, your legs continuing to tremble as the small red light next to the lens stares you down.  “Can’t be planning to stay with someone you just met because you’d already be there, can’t be going to a hostel because you found the one city on this moon built for commerce and not aid.  Not staying in another inn, you can’t afford it—the view looks high up, that robe is expensive, and you already bought food and at least five pairs of shoes in two days.  I don’t think the place you found is even in Nariss.  You think you can outsmart me, sweet girl?”

The chill down your spine doesn’t reach your eyes, you won’t let it.  You just feel yourself smile, tilting your head at him and licking your lips while your finger brushes one of your nipples, but Din doesn’t accept your silence the way you’ve always accepted his.  He wants an answer from you, right now, and it’s clear in the dark rumble of his voice, the danger slowly brewing beyond what you originally planned for.

“Tell me,” he orders, unamused and leaving no room to disobey.  “How long do you think you can keep running?”

Your eyelashes flutter, suddenly deciding… why not?  What have you got to lose?  Nothing that you didn’t already go into this situation completely expecting to lose anyways.  What’s the worst he can do?  Find you?

You close your eyes, pinching one of your nipples and wondering if you might just go for another one since he’s still here.  “Ask me again tomorrow.”

But then, instead of immediately responding, you just hear Din’s footsteps suddenly pick up, faster than any pace you’ve been able to keep over the past few days.  You don’t think it sounds like a run necessarily, but you know that his legs and strides are far longer than yours and it’s probably pretty much equivalent to a run for you.  You hear the rhythm of your demise speeding up, coming closer and closer, and everything in you both fears it and welcomes it.

“We’ll see,” he tells you, and then the red light vanishes and your earpiece clicks to silence.

***

Day 3—2:23am:

Even though it takes you much longer to do so than it normally would on a bed so large and comfortable, after such an exciting interaction and not being used to flickering light when you try to sleep but wanting to experience the rarity anyways, you’re eventually able to pass out.

But, not even a few minutes into a restless dream, you turn over and accidentally knock your communicator off the wireless charging station on the side table.  It blinks with four percent battery life.

***

To be continued!!

#the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #mando x reader #mando x you #the mandalorian #smut #reader insert #fanfic #rough day #no-droids #tw: stalking

[ragingbookdragon]

Batsis & Green Lantern, Sittin' In A Tree. K-I-S-S-I-N--Wait, Is That Our Sister? PT. 1

Kyle Rayner x Batsis One-Shot

Word Count: 4K Warnings: Explicit Language

Author's Note: Aye, looks who's back at it again with a fic like this! IT'S ME! Enjoy! -Thorne

**********************************************************************

The creature was coming at him a lot faster than he’d thought it was, and he barely had enough time to form a wall before it slammed into him. Even then, the force of it hitting the green construct sent him back a hundred feet and into the side of an abandoned skyscraper.

Pain wasn’t really felt when in the suit, but man, it still threw him for a loop and he groaned as he picked himself up off the ground, shoving glass and concrete away from his body. He could hear the rest of the Justice League fighting outside and as he started back towards the hole his body had made, the creature came in.

And this time, he didn’t have any to react, and the glowing magenta beast was coming right at him—fast. He lifted his arms and started to will a construction when a low sound came from his hand and with wide eyes, he watched the glowing neon green ring faded dull.

“Shi—”

His suit faded instantaneously and the next thing he knew, he was being shoved into the wall. It cracked under the pressure and his skull felt as though it’d been split when it connected with the concrete. The creature’s giant clawed hands wrapped around his throat, starting to choke the life out of him and he scratched at the magenta skin, to no avail.

“He—lp!” he gasped. “Som—on—e hel—p!”

Black started to edge from the corners of his vision and a haze began to settle over his brain as his lungs stopped receiving air.

I don’t wanna die. I don’t wanna die like this. Someone, anyone, help!

Something cold splattered across his face, and suddenly the steel grip around his throat went slack. The weight of the creature fell away from him and he dropped to his knees and collapsed onto his back, gasping in lungfuls of air to his deprived organs.

When his head stopped spinning, and he found the strength to move, he rolled onto his side and immediately, he recoiled with a shout of fear. The creature’s big ugly head had been decapitated and was leaking a fluorescent blue blood—that’s probably what splattered on his face and he reached up, wiping a hand across his skin. He pulled his hand away and there was the neon ichor painting his palm.

“You’re weak, Rayner,” a voice commented disapprovingly.

He craned his neck up to see a woman who looked about his age wiping the neon blood from a silver sword before she sheathed it on her back, her white slit eyes finding his.

“You almost died because your ring ran out of power.”

Kyle huffed and unsteadily stretched his legs. “Who the hell are you?”

“I’m the woman that saved your life.” Her eyes narrowed. “You’re welcome by the way.”

“Thank you,” he said, casting one last look at the creature before looking back at her. “So, who are you again? You obviously know me?” he took a moment to examine her suit. It was black, with silver stripes and in the middle of her chest was a silver symbol, that of a Greek helmet. But what got Kyle was the bat wings that outstretched from the sides of the helm.

“Are you apart of Batman’s troupe?”

She grunted and tapped at the glowing screen on her wrist. “Yeah. Name’s Silver Sentinel.”

“Oh, I know who you are!” he grinned. “You’re Dick and Jason’s sister!”

“Yes, please, tell the world who my younger brothers are.”

Kyle’s face heated and he glanced down at his hands. “Sorry.”

She tapped a button and waited, then a voice came over the comm link.

Talk.

Her eyes found Kyle’s and she replied, “Rescued your Green Lantern about two klicks from your position.” A sneer came over her lip. “Fool let his ring run out of power.”

He stared at his hands as embarrassment crawled across his skin, flushing from his neck up to his cheeks.

Hmm. Can you get him back to New York?

“I could be persuaded.”

Sentinel.

She rolled her eyes. “Alright, whatever. I’ll take him back to NY.” Walking over to the hole in the wall, she saw a beam of light. “Need a hand down there?”

Negative. We’ve got it under control.

“Ten-four. Silver Sentinel out.” The line went dead, and she looked down at Kyle. “Well, are you going to keep sitting there on your ass or are you gonna get up?”

He scrambled to his feet, an apology rolling off his tongue. “Sorry.”

She merely grunted in return and started off towards the exit, him following rather quickly. As they got to the entrance to the floor, she walked over to the elevator and pried it open, and Kyle had to fight to not be impressed by her sheer strength. She placed some type of device between the open doors and clicked a button, and it spread, keeping them apart.

Next, she pulled out what looked like one of the grapple guns Kyle had seen her family carrying around, and pointed it at the ceiling of the elevator, pulling the trigger. It hit the top with a clink, and she gave it an experimental tug before looking over at him.

“Come here,” she commanded, and Kyle blinked as something tight shot through his gut at the tone she carried—one of force and complete authority. Something told him that she was the type of woman who did what she wanted and expected people to fall in line behind her or else. He wasn’t sure if he should’ve been aroused or terrified, but it was probably a mix of both as he walked over.

She curled an arm around his waist and tugged his body up against hers. “Put one of your arms around my shoulder, the other around my body.”

“I—uh—I don’t feel comfor—” Kyle stuttered as his cheeks turned scarlet and she glared at him.

“We’re not going to dry hump in the elevator like horny teenagers, Rayner.” She pulled them nose to nose and he tried not to wince as the black nose of the cowl pushed into his skin. “If you’d rather us grapple down the side of the building where everyone can see, then let’s go.”

He swallowed thickly and did as she’d said a moment earlier, putting one of his arms around her shoulder, the other wrapping snug around her back. “N-no. We can do this,” he agreed, and she grunted.

“Listen carefully, this is going to be scary because you’re not used to it, but the second our feet come off this floor, don’t panic. I’ve got you and I’m not going to drop you.”

Though her voice was harsh, he could feel the security. “And the claw holding us up?”

“Has a gripping force of two tons.” She looked at him and inched towards the opening. “We’ll be fine.”

Kyle stepped over and looked down into the cold and dark shaft, immediately feeling his heart-rate pick up and she sighed when she heard the sharp intake of breath.

“You’re such a baby,” she scowled and pulled them into the shaft. His arms tighten instantaneously and even his legs tightened around hers. “Gonna try and climb me, Rayner?” she teased.

“Shut up,” he hissed and buried his face in her shoulder pad. “Just hurry and get us down.”

She snorted and clicked a button, allowing them to descend at a faster pace than he would’ve liked. “I thought Green Lanterns were supposed to be fearless?”

“Usually when I’m somewhere I could fall to my death, I’m powered up.” He retorted, still burrowed in her shoulder. “This is a little different.”

“Relax, Rayner. I’ve got you.”

Kyle pulled his face away from her armor and stared at her, though all he could make out was the white slits. “How are you this strong? I know I weigh at least one-eighty.”

She grunted. “Yeah, I can tell.”

He blinked. “Are you calling me fat? That sounds like you’re calling me fat.”

“Your muscle mass could be better.”

“That wasn’t a no,” he griped and when she chuckled, it sent shivers down his spine.

“To answer your earlier question—”

“The one where you called me fat?” he interrupted, and she scowled at him.

“The one about how strong I am. I work out daily, Rayner, and I can lift a lot more than my weight.”

“How heavy—” he chuckled nervously when she glared at him. “I’m not gonna finish that question.”

“Good idea, Rayner. Might save you from being dropped.”

“Hardy-har-har. You’re hilarious,” he retorted, and suddenly his feet his something hard. He looked down and saw the elevator, and she shoved him back from her, clicking the button on the grapple gun.

It recoiled in a matter of seconds and she tapped a button on the side of her cowl as she stowed the gun, then she moved to the corner of the elevator and brought her foot down as hard as she could. Kyle winced when the hatch gave way and he wondered how powerful she was to kick through a metal latch in one hit.

She looked at him. “Come on. I’ll call the Batplane when we get outside.”

“I thought only Batman was allowed to do that?” he asked, and she scoffed.

“Let’s just say I’m the one who’s allowed to do whatever she wants, and things don’t get fucked up.” She disappeared down the hatch and a moment later, he heard the elevator doors being pried open. “Are you coming, Rayner? I’d be more than happy to leave you here without a ride home.”

Kyle hurried and squeezed down the hatch, grunting when his tennis shoes hit the floor. The elevator rocked and creaked and she made a noise that sounded a lot like the one Batman made when he was annoyed.

“Hurry up and get through the doors.”

He ducked under her arms and out onto the floor and she followed, letting the thick metal doors slam behind her. She strode ahead and tapped at her screen.

“Alfred, are you there?”

A moment later, an older voice came over the line.

Yes Miss Wayne. How can I assist you this evening?

“I need the Batplane at my position. Could you send it?”

At once.

“Thanks Alfie.”

Of course, Miss Wayne.

As they waited in the lobby of the skyscraper, she murmured, “If you’re not going to ask whatever you’re thinking about asking me. Stop thinking. It’s annoying.”

Kyle blinked. “How’d you—”

“Oh please.” she rolled her eyes. “You’ve opened and shut your mouth eight times in the last two minutes.” She gazed at him. “Just ask.”

“You’re really Bruce Wayne’s daughter? (Y/N) Wayne?”

“I am.” (Y/N) replied. “Why?”

He shrugged. “I dunno…it’s just kinda hard to believe that a famous model doubles as a vigilante at night.”

“Why’s that so shocking? My dad’s a multi-billionaire playboy by day and Batman by night. Are you telling me a woman can’t do it too?”

Kyle’s green eyes widened, and he shook his head. “What? No! That’s not what I meant! I just meant that with back-to-back photo shoots, it must be hard to make time to do all this.”

(Y/N) hummed, turning her gaze to the street, a blur of red went by and she knew it was Barry Allen. “I run on my own schedule, Rayner, not anyone else’s.”

“Wow, you really are the woman in charge, aren’t you?” he remarked.

And she turned her eyes onto him again, this time narrowed in amusement as she teased, “Trying to see if you can find out what it’s like to be in charge for the night?”

Kyle’s mouth opened and snapped shut. “I don’t know what you mean,” he said, swallowing nervously.

She crossed over to him in one step, getting up in his personal space again as she cooed, “Oh, you don’t?” he nodded and she reached up, trailing her silver armored fingers up the front of his white shirt and he was incapable of fighting how his muscles twitched at the pressure.

“I think you do,” she flirted. “Come on, Rayner. Don’t you wanna see what it’s like when you’re the man in charge? How much fun it can be to take all that control?” (Y/N) leaned close, her face barely an inch from his. “To be the one who holds all that power over a woman?”

He couldn’t breathe. His head was swimming with R-rated thoughts that if she really were a mind reader, she’d probably break his jaw, but all he knew was that his mind was so far into the gutter it wasn’t funny, and he swore she could hear his heart pounding.

She pulled away. “You should break out on your own instead of working for a design company. Then you’d have better control over your own schedule.”

Kyle blinked, stunned silent, then he said, “Wait, what?”

(Y/N) cocked her head to the side. “What?”

“What was,” he gestured wildly. “All that just now?”

Placing a hand on her hip, she asked, “I don’t understand what you’re talking about, Rayner. All I said was that you should get on your own.”

A deafening sound shook the floor and Kyle stared at the black plane settling down in the middle of the street. (Y/N) walked out the doors and to it as if it just hadn’t pulled a “J-turn” at twelve G’s.

“Let’s go, Rayner. I’ve got better things to do than babysit you,” she called, and he ran after her. She helped him climb into it, then scowled. “Move over. You’re in my spot.”

He shimmied in the tight space to the other seat and strapped in, watching curiously as she tapped at the buttons and flipped switches before grabbing hold of the steering device.

Kyle snorted. “It’s even shaped like a bat.”

(Y/N) huffed. “Yeah, that’s how we do things in our family.” She tapped at the screen. “Batman, this is Silver Sentinel. Come in.”

Read you loud and clear, Sentinel.

“Green Lantern and I are in route to New York.” She paused and directed her gaze to the screen, watching red dots surround a group of blue ones. “You’ve got enemies incoming. Do you want backup?”

Negative. You and Green Lantern get back to New York. We can handle this.

For once that night, Kyle watched as concern crossed (Y/N)’s face and she replied, “Dad, I think—”

I gave you an order, Sentinel.

(Y/N) glared and looked at Kyle and he about shrunk in his seat form the withering stare; she tossed him a helmet and ordered, “Put that on and don’t puke in it.”

“Don’t what?” he inquired as he put it on and the only answer he got was the sudden kick of the engines and he was pulled back in his seat. “Holy shit,” he whispered breathlessly as the Batwing took a U-turn in the air and headed off towards the fight.

Sentinel, we’re fine.

“With all due respect, sir, I don’t believe that,” (Y/N) retorted and in a matter of moments they were flying over the rest of the Justice League. She tapped at the screen. “You’ve got incoming hostiles from the north, east, and west.” (Y/N) flipped a few switches above her then pressed a button on the steering wheel. “Heatseekers and nanite missiles deployed.”

Kyle watched her go between the screen and the switches. “Hostiles in the east and west quadrants have been eliminated.”

What can you tell me about the north?

“You’ve got multiple hostiles coming in. Got a big guy too. Got any tips?”

They’re vulnerable to sound waves. Take him out and we’ll do the rest.

“Ten-four. Happy hunting.”

(Y/N) turned the steering wheel and directed the Batplane towards the north part of the fight, grinning when the giant creature came into view, while Kyle looked like he was going to crap himself.

“Merry Christmas, ugly. Kiss my ass,” she quipped and pressed a button, and a black tube the size of a fire hydrant shot to the ground, and with a thunk, sunk in.

“What’s that supposed to do?” Kyle asked and she grinned.

“Watch and learn.”

The device popped up, blue and armed and she hit the screen. Immediately the windows of every building and car in the mile radius shattered and to his amazement, Kyle watched the creatures screech and grab at their heads before they exploded into piles of neon blue goo.

His jaw dropped. “Holy shit. That was cool.”

(Y/N) smirked and checked the map once more. No more hostiles inbound and she hit the comm link again. “Justice League you are all clear. I repeat, Justice League you are all clear.”

Good work, Sentinel. Now do as I told you and take Green Lantern back to New York.

“Is nothing I do good enough for you, father?” she griped, though Kyle could see the humor in her eyes.

Get off the comm link.

“Make me.”

Sentinel. Get. Off.

“Fine, fine. I love you too.” (Y/N) pushed at the screen once more then reclined in her seat, shutting her eyes.

“Don’t you have to fly this thing?” Kyle asked as the engines picked up again.

“Nah. It’s got autopilot.”

“I gotta get me one of these,” he whispered, and she reached over him, pulling out something from a drawer. (Y/N) opened a snack bag and popped a cookie into her mouth.

“You could probably construct one with your ring,” she offered, then held out the bag.

He took one with a ‘thank you’, then said, “Yeah but there’s nothing like owning the real thing.”

“HA! Give my dad a couple million dollars and he might be willing to part with one.”

“And on that note, I’ll stick to constructs,” he chuckled, and the rest of their flight was filled with easy banter, where (Y/N) found herself teasing Kyle a lot more than he was comfortable with—only because he found himself lacking a comeback for every remark she gave him.

***

“You really gotta get a new apartment. This place is way too small for a grown man,” she commented, and he snorted, picking up a pair of shoes that were laying haphazardly on the floor.

“I’m not exactly on the billionaire’s credit card, (Y/N). I live on minimum wage and whatever I can get out of commissions.”

She observed Kyle as he recharged his ring and when he was finished, she asked, “How much do you charge for commissions?”

He blinked and looked up at her. “Oh, well it depends on what the commissioner wants me to do.”

“Give me a price range.”

“Uh…between eighty and two hundred. That’s usually what I charge.”

(Y/N) thought for a moment. “Mind showing me some of your best works? I’ve been thinking about hiring a graphic artist for a new project I’m working on.”

Kyle felt a giddy feeling rise in his chest and he practically tripped over himself to his desk to grab his sketchbook. His cheeks were warm when she giggled and took it from him, flipping through it in silence. And that wracked his nerves because without the cowl on, he could see just how scrutinizing her gaze was.

After a moment she passed it back to him and when she didn’t say anything, merely frowned, he couldn’t help but deflate a bit. “I guess it’s not what you’re looking for, huh?” he tried to sound light, but it came out a lot bitter than he meant.

(Y/N) hummed. “It’s exactly what I’m looking for.”

“I can get you in touch with a better artist at the—” he stopped mid-sentence and gaped at her. “Wait, what was that you said just now?”

She snorted. “I said your work is exactly what I’m looking for.”

He couldn’t fight the shock coursing through him. “Really? It is?”

Suddenly her smile was replaced with a scowl and she bit out, “Quit making me repeat shit and listen the first time.”

Kyle nodded. “Right. I just…wasn’t expecting you to say that.”

“I know,” she replied cockily, then took out her phone and tapped at the screen before showing it to him. “I know you’re a graphic designer and not a clothing one, but you’d be really helpful with the new line of clothing and jewelry I’m planning on making.”

He took her phone gently and swiped at the pictures. “Justice League themed?”

(Y/N) tipped her head. “We’re doing an exclusive line for Gotham’s vigilantes first. If it pays well, we’ll go from there.” She took her phone back and stared at him. “I’m willing to pay you up to two grand for every design you give me.”

Kyle’s eyes practically popped out of his head and his jaw went slack. “Are you—are you being serious?”

She nodded and stowed her phone. “On one condition.”

He nodded. “For two grand a design? I’ll do anything for you.”

The corner of her mouth rose in a smirk and he realized his words too late as she purred, “Well I would love to see you on your knees for me. So, I’ll keep that in mind, Rayner.” Waving a hand, she added, “But besides that, if you want the job, you have to come to the manor.”

“Wayne Manor?”

“Mhm. I’ll provide everything you need to create and design.”

His dark brows furrowed. “I can do that, but why?”

A solemn look came across her face. “You almost got yourself killed tonight because you let your ring power down.” She placed her hands on her hips. “If you want this job, you’re going to take combat lessons from me and you’re going to start working out more.”

Kyle’s face pinched. “You want me to work out and get my ass kicked for a job?”

“More like so my brothers don’t lose a best friend.” She shrugged. “But, if a freelance artist like you can find better money elsewhere, I’d be happy to let you go and—”

“I get it!” he scowled and looked away for a moment before sighing and turning back to her, his hand outstretched. “Fine. It’s a deal. You pay me and I’ll do your designs.”

“And?” she questioned with a smirk.

He groaned, his muscles already feeling the pain coming. “And I’ll take lessons from you.”

(Y/N) smiled. “I’m so glad we could come to an arrangement.” She shook his hand. “It’s going to be a pleasure doing business with you, Mister Rayner.”

Kyle swallowed thickly as she pulled away and walked to the fire escape. “Likewise, Miss Wayne,” he replied lowly, knowing that with each sway of her hips, he was getting more and more screwed. Not only was she his better, she was also his best friends’ older sister—hotter and badass older sister.

She opened the window and paused, looking back at him. “This’ll be a three-month project. Are you okay with that, Kyle?”

He nodded. “Yeah, I can do that.” (Y/N) seemed to be thinking about something and he could tell. “Is something on your mind?”

She pulled on the cowl and gazed at him. “I’ve half a mind to tell you to pack a bag and spend the time at the manor while we do the project.”

“Pay my rent and I’ll consider it,” he snorted and then she blinked and shifted her gaze down to her wrist then tapped at it.

After a minute, she said, “Alright, your rent and utilities have been paid for the next three months.”

“What?”

“You said pay your rent. So, I did.”

“Please tell me you’re joking,” Kyle begged—he didn’t want to owe her like that.

She smiled. “Pack a bag Rayner. You’re moving in.”

“Seriously?”

“Didn’t I tell you to stop making me repeat things?”

He sighed heavily, moving to pack. “Yes ma’am.”

“Ooo, call me ma’am like that again and I might not let you leave when this is over.”

#kyle rayner x reader #kyle rayner x reader imagines #kyle rayner x reader imagine #kyle rayner imagines #kyle rayner imagine #green lantern x reader #green lantern x reader imagines #green lantern x reader imagine #batfamily x reader #batfamily x reader imagines #batfamily x reader imagine #batfamily imagines #batfamily imagine #batfamily #batsis x batfam #batsis x batfamily #batsis x batfamily imagines #batsis x batfamily imagine #batsis imagines #batsis imagine #batsis #bruce wayne #batman #dick grayson #nightwing #jason todd #red hood #dc comics #dc imagines #dc imagine

[tennessoui]

If you're up up to it, how about obikin and 42?

yes!!! Prompt 42 is Star-Crossed Lovers, but star-crossed lovers are soooooo out now. 'Crossed the stars to be lovers' is IN, baby!!

(2.7k)

Someone has left a letter on his bunk. Obi-Wan as a rule doesn’t get letters. Actually, as a rule, Obi-Wan has never wanted to receive a letter in his entire life. They all have datapads for a reason, and it’s because they’ve evolved past the need for flimsi and ink when there are means at their disposal to deliver messages near instantly.

So no, Obi-Wan has never wanted to see a letter sitting on his bunk. He finds the whole thing rather trying, actually, the Flimsi Friends program the Jedi Order established fifty standard years ago in an attempt to connect their Jedi with others across the branches through letters. Obi-Wan had scorned the idea as an Initiate living comfortably in the Temple on Coruscant, and his opinion hadn’t really changed once he began his tenure at the AgriCorps.

Kabre notices before anyone else. “Oh, hey! Obi-Wan’s got a letter.”

“Finally,” Aldran grins, craning his neck from where he’s collapsed on his bunk. “We only signed you up months ago.”

“Really, you shouldn’t have,” Obi-Wan says. “Really.”

“Oh, come now, little Obi,” Kabre pats him on the head. Obi-Wan is twenty-five and of a perfectly average height, but Kabre is close to three heads taller than him and of an indeterminable age. “Think of it as an opportunity to strengthen your connection to the living Force.”

“Through the Flimsi Friends program,” Obi-Wan deadpans, raising an eyebrow up at his peer.

“Getting letters from Susa is the highlight of my week,” Aldran tells the ceiling dreamily.

Obi-Wan shares a commiserating eyeroll with Kabre. “That’s because you’re in love with her.”

“Who wouldn’t be? She’s so sweet and kind and pretty and she has all these stories from her adventures in the ExploraCorps--”

“Alright, who got him talking about Susa?” Lathrum asks from the door, sighing in exasperation as he makes his way over to his own bunk. “It’ll be a standard day before he’s done.”

“Hey!” Aldran gasps, offended and already close to sulking. “Whatever. Fine. Everyone’s just jealous that Susa and I are in love because y’all are never going to find something nearly as good as we have.”

“Obi-Wan finally got a letter from the program,” Kabre announces to Lathrum. “We were just saying that he should at least try to be excited.”

“Yes, perhaps you’ll meet your own Susa,” Lathrum smirks, peeling off his dirt-covered tunic. His next words come out muffled. “Force help us if that happens.”

“No need to worry,” Obi-Wan says dryly, picking up the letter and studying it. “They appear to be a youngling.”

“A youngling wrote you?” Kabre asks, barely restrained glee in his deep baritone.

Aldran guffaws from his bunk. “Well now you have to write back!”

“Knowing your luck, it’s probably a youngling from the Jedi Temple,” Lathrum says. “Dear Obi-Wan, Today someone chose me to be their Padawan and I’m one step closer to being a Jedi Knight. How are your plants doing?”

“Yes, alright,” Obi-Wan shakes his head, smiling slightly. He had met Lathrum when he was fourteen and still bitterly disappointed about his new position at the AgriCorps, and Lathrum has never let him forget it even after all these years.

He sits down on his mattress and pulls out the letter. It’s short at least. The handwriting is atrocious but the spelling is worse.

Dear Obi-Wan,

Hi! My name is Anakin Skywalker. I am nine years old. How are you doing today? My master says I have to write this to practice my spelling. I think not everyone can learn Basic, but he says I have to and that all Jedi masters know how. I didn’t ever know there was all this stuff I have to do to be a Jedi. I’ve been here for weeks now and I still don’t have my lightsaber!

I think the temple is really weird. It’s so big and cold. I miss my friends back home. Me and Kitster would go crazy exploring this place but no one here wants to play with me. Master Jinn says not to worry and I’m not! The temple is just really big and I’m cold all the time and I miss my mom. Master Jinn found me on Tatooine and took me here to make me a Jedi which is great, but everyone here already knows each other and I don’t think they like me much. I know the Jedi Council doesn’t. They didn’t even want to train me but Master Jinn inzi--incis--said he would.

Do you want to be friends?

Would you explore the temple with me?

Write back soon please,

Anakin

“Well?” Kabre asks, when Obi-Wan finishes silently reading the letter.

Obi-Wan sighs and rubs a hand over the jagged penmanship. It’s all too obvious that this Anakin Skywalker is...painfully young, churlish and childish and achingly lonely.

Obi-Wan sighs again, harder, as he looks up at his bunkmates. “Where do we keep the blasted flimsi?”

---

Dear Anakin,

Thank you for your letter, it was very nice to read. My name is Obi-Wan Kenobi, and I’m 25 years old. I hope you are settling in at the Temple better by the time this letter finds you. I have to admit I was very surprised to hear that you are nine years old and have been allowed to train to be a Jedi. That’s unheard of. I’m sure you’ll be an excellent Jedi. There must have been a reason your master chose you. The Force wills it and it will be.

It is understandable to miss your mother and your old home. When I became a member of the AgriCorps, I spent the first few months missing the Jedi temple on Coruscant a lot. It was the only home I ever had. But we make others as we go. The Temple is big and I suppose very cold compared to a desert planet--I looked up Tatooine here and there wasn’t much information, but I could never live somewhere with two suns! I’d be burned to a crisp in a matter of hours.

The upside to the Temple being big is that there are a lot of hiding spots and footholds for climbing. Try the pillars in the entrance hall. They connect to each other. My friends and I would run around on top of them for hours, although I think that was mostly because we were too scared to get down. You should ask Knight Eerin about it, or Knight Vos. They’re usually in the Mess Hall if not the Halls of Healing.

I’m sure Master Jinn has you busy with meditation and classes, but I look forward to hearing from you soon.

Best,

Obi-Wan Kenobi

---

Dear Obi-Wan,

I was really excited to get your letter! I didn’t know it would take so long but it’s been ages! So much stuff has happened. I finally finished my remedial classes and Master says we can focus more time of katas now! I can’t wait to learn how to fight! And Master Windu smiled at me the other day when he saw me in the hall because Master told him about my grades!

I asked Knight Eerin about you and she showed me some pictures she had on her datapad of you when you lived at the Temple. You look really pretty cool! I have blond hair and blue eyes if you were wondering. My mom always said she thought I was going to be really tall. What do you look like now? What do you do at the AgriCorps? Why did you leave the Temple? Knight Eerin says you need to give her a comm call soon. She didn’t sound very happy.

I made a friend! Knight Vos’ padawan was there when I talked to him about what you told me, and she came with me to go exploring! She’s so cool. She’s been helping me with my katas too.

Apparently I won’t get my lightsaber for years! That’s so long!

Anyway I have to go and do my reading now but please write back faster this time, Obi-Wan!

--Ani

----

Obi-Wan never reacts quite as happily and dramatically as Aldrin does when he sees a letter from Anakin on his bunk in the evenings, but over the years everyone learns not to disturb Obi-Wan on those nights.

The first letter Obi-Wan receives from Anakin after the boy turns eighteen includes his commlink frequency hastily crammed at the bottom of the page. If you want, Anakin has scribbled.

“Finally,” Obi-Wan jokes when the line connects and Anakin answers breathlessly. “No offense to you, dear one, and you have come quite a ways since you were a youngling, but your handwriting is still atrocious. I’d much rather talk to you like this than try to puzzle out what you’ve written.”

Anakin splutters and then stutters out in a voice slower and deeper than Obi-Wan had expected, “I didn’t know you had an accent, Obi-Wan.”

Obi-Wan finds that he likes that voice saying his name in that way.

That’s the first sign of trouble.

----

Anakin sends a photo of his knighting ceremony. Obi-Wan wants to cry with pride. His friends tease him about it relentlessly. “You look like I did the day I married Susa,” Aldrin crows and takes a picture of Obi-Wan’s blushing, laughing face. Later, Obi-Wan reluctantly sends it to Anakin.

“I’m jealous of your friends,” Anakin confesses with an exhale of static. “They get to see you everyday.”

“Oh, Anakin,” Obi-Wan says, unable to say more. Unable to admit that he’s thought the same thing about Anakin’s master at the Temple. Unable to deny it though.

They move onto safer topics, ones that make Obi-Wan’s chest feel less tight.

----

“Jedi Knights are forbidden to have romantic attachments,” Kabre tells him apropos of nothing one late evening when they’re leaning against the railings of their cabin.

Obi-Wan doesn’t even try to pretend to not know what his friend is talking about. Anakin is twenty-three now. They call each other as often as possible, whenever they have enough free time. Thinking about Anakin, somewhere out in the galaxy, makes Obi-Wan feel dangerous things. Dangerous, insidious, illogical things.

“Yes,” he agrees.

“Everything you’ve ever told me about this boy makes me think he’s in love with you,” Kabre says. “And the way you tell it makes me think you’re in love with him too.”

“Kabre, I…”

“I’m not asking you to deny it to me, Obi-Wan. You don’t need to defend yourself. You know no one cares if you’ve gone and fallen in love with your flimsi friend. It happens. And Force knows there’s no way you could be more insufferable than Aldrin and Susa.”

“He’s a Jedi Knight, Kabre,” Obi-Wan looks away, off over the fields. “I know what that means.”

----

When Anakin is twenty-four, Obi-Wan walks into his room to see a letter on his pillow. He blinks in surprise. He hasn’t gotten a letter since they petered out in favor of comm calls with Anakin.

But he’d recognize that handwriting anywhere.

He sits down to read it.

Dear Obi-Wan,

I find myself growing weary of Knighthood. I love my Padawan, I love the missions, I love the fighting. But I love something else more. I have for almost as long as I can remember.

I’ve been looking through the old letters from you. I’ve kept them all. I know Jedi should not have material attachments, but I found that I could no more throw them away than give my lightsaber to a Sith. They make up our story.

You were the first friend I ever had at the Temple. I don’t quite think you realized that then, and you may not even realize it now. But you were. I would get a letter from you and feel warm for weeks afterwards.

Actually, everything I love about the Temple and the Jedi you gave to me. My friends now, indirectly. All the hiding spots. Moving meditation.

When I got my kyber crystal, I wanted to tell you before anyone else. When my Padawan braid was cut, I gave it to my master, but wished I had something I could give to you too.

That was the day I really admitted to myself that you already have all of me.

Obi-Wan, I’m in love with you. I love you more every time we talk. Disengaging the comms at the end of the night hurts like losing my hand all over again. I love you, I love you.

And I have been a coward about it for too many years. I was afraid that you would reject me, think me too rash and young and foolish. But I know what I want. You told me in one of your letters that you believed I lived off of a single-minded desire to achieve my goals and that I would let nothing stand in the way.

I do not plan on starting now, if you will have me that is. I dream of nothing more than to feel your hands on my face, to listen to the sound of your heart beating in your chest.

I will not disrespect the ways of the Jedi by loving you quietly, when I know you are my deepest, strongest attachment. One that I will not shake, even if I lived to be as old as Master Yoda himself.

If you find that you feel the same way, I will leave the Jedi Order tomorrow and meet you on Bandomeer. If you do not, then I understand and will never speak of this again. I am something of an expert after all these years of loving you silently from afar.

Yours sincerely, yours always, yours completely,

Anakin

Obi-Wan traces the words with a shaking hand. He doesn’t know he’s crying until a tear falls onto the flimsi. Oh, Anakin. Oh, his brave, foolish Anakin.

Will he really be so selfish as to allow Anakin to leave his Knighthood for him? His padawan, his home?

But the knowledge that Anakin loves him is a heady, addictive feeling. Obi-Wan has never truly gotten the things he wants. He loves his life now, of course. But he hadn’t wanted it.

And he loves Anakin.

He loves him terribly.

He reaches for a piece of flimsi and a pen.

----

Anakin will be the first to admit he’s been in a foul mood for a few standard weeks now. He’d sent that letter to Obi-Wan--Force, why had he sent that letter to Obi-Wan, obviously the man will never want to talk to him again now--and then immediately Ahsoka and him had been called in for a mission.

It had been awful and disgusting. Anakin is covered in mud from head to toe, and his padawan doesn’t look any better. And worst of all, he had had no time at all to comm Obi-Wan. No time at all to see how the man had taken his confession. It feels like he’s been holding his breath for days.

But he’s at the Temple now. He can clean himself off and call Obi-Wan incessantly until the man answers. Anakin can’t keep living like this.

“Letter for you, Master,” Ahsoka says as he enters their quarters. She’d been sent ahead while Anakin had finished docking the ship, and now she’s sitting at the table perfectly clean.

Anakin thinks his heart stops at these words and then it starts beating as fast as it ever has before. “Where?”

“I put it on your bed,” Ahsoka peers up at him with a furrowed brow. “Are you okay, Skyguy? You look a bit--”

But Anakin’s gone, already tearing into his room. There on the bedspread is a letter. Obi-Wan’s written him a letter.

Anakin has to try opening it three times before he finally gets his fingers to cooperate. It’s very short.

Dearest One, Obi-Wan has written.

I’ll meet you here tomorrow on Bandomeer. I will be waiting.

Forever yours,

Obi-Wan

Anakin smiles and feels like he could cry or sing or dance or scream from all the joy that’s welled up in his chest at this small handful of words Obi-Wan has given him. They’re everything and more.

Mindful of the mud on his person, he puts the letter gently on his bed and walks back out to the common area. Ahsoka is right where he left her.

“Okay, now you just look scary,” she says, pointing a fork at him. “Stop smiling like that.”

Anakin lets his grin die. He won’t relish this next part, but it’s for Obi-Wan. It’s so he can be with Obi-Wan. It's necessary. “Snips,” he says, sitting down opposite her. “We need to talk.”

#asks #prompt fill #i could literally write like 20k of this tbh #i had a few more letters planned but i knew i needed to hurry it up #anyway #sw #obikin #this is also as usual highly unedited all mistakes are artistic and actually great

[bobafetts-princess]

Hello! Congrats on the milestone!!

ヾ( ~▽~)ﾂ ♪💕

May I get an 51 from the prompt list with Boba? 👀

Thank you so much!

Of course!! I struggled with this a little bit, but I’ll tell ya. When I got rolling I got ROLLING! I hope you like it!

Public Kiss with Boba!

Boba x gn!Reader!

Warnings: Possessive Boba. Asshole at the bar doesn’t know how to take no for an answer.

Boba doesn’t do PDA. He’ll let you sit on his lap occasionally, if there’s no business to be conducted, but that’s the extent of it. He doesn’t remove his helmet in the throne room, the risks are too high. He can’t take the chance that someone will seize an opportunity to assassinate him, so it’s few and far between to see him bucket-less in public.

That being said, everyone knows you’re Boba’s. The way he watches you, the way his fingers linger on his blaster if someone gets too close. The way he bites out cruel words for anyone who dares touch what’s his. It’s the way he tilts his head up to you when you’re standing near the throne, jabbering on about Maker-knows-what.

But more so, it’s the way you light up when you see him. The way a brilliant grin breaks out on your face and your eyes seem to take on a glow when you talk to him. It’s the comfort in your body languages when you’re near each other. It’s the way that Boba’s shoulders release tension with every step you take towards him. So, for the most part, everyone knows to avoid you at all costs.

Except for tonight. Boba has some clients in, new trading deals and things along those lines. You weren’t privy to a lot of it, Boba liked to keep work and personal matters separate. You knew that some of his contacts were in town for a while, but that was about it.

You were at the bar, getting a spotchka for Fennec and yourself when a young, good-looking Togruta sidles up next to you.

“I’ve been in this bar all week and I know I’d recognize you if I’d seen you before,” he started and you laughed. His boldness was something to be admired.

“I’ve been hiding,” you tell him, keeping information to a minimum. Being with Boba had taught you several things, the biggest one being ‘don’t give free information’.

“Let me buy you a drink,” he offers and it’s sweet and he’s cute, but Boba’s probably ready to shoot him as it is, so it’s best not to encourage him.

“No thanks, I’ve already paid for mine,” you say, gesturing to the two glasses of blue liquid in front of you. It’s a lie, you don’t pay for shit in this establishment.

“Your comm then? I’m on the planet for a few more days, I’d like to get to know you a little better,” you’re not mad, just a little annoyed that he won’t take the hint as you shake your head no.

“I don’t think my boyfriend would like that,” you say, annoyance bleeding into your tone as you try to turn away but his hand on your wrist stops you.

“He doesn’t have to know, I wo-“

“He already does.” Comes the flat voice from behind you, not hidden by his modulator. You see the rage and fire burning in his eyes as the Togruta falters and sputters an apology. You know he’s pissed if he’s taken off the helmet, or maybe he walked in without it? You don’t know.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Fett. I didn’t know. I’m sorry,” but the damage is already done, Boba is livid

“Are you alright, little one?” He asks, tilting your chin up to him as he searches your face for any signs of discomfort. One hand is splayed across your hip, the other cupping your chin and you see the genuine concern there.

“I’m fine, Boba,” you promise and out the corner of your eye you see an older Togruta hustling towards you.

“Boba, Mr. Fett. Please excuse my son, he doesn’t think sometimes,” he starts but Boba silences him with a hand. He crowds you against the bar, your back pressing into the solid durasteel before he captures your lips in his.

It’s possessive, meant to be a show of dominance that prevents anyone else from trying to take what belongs to him. His tongue sweeps into your mouth and a gloved hand wraps around the back of your neck to anchor you to him. He presses into you, taking the glasses from your hands and setting them back on the bar. Your now-free hands curl into his cowl, losing yourself in his kiss.

The entire rest of the throne room disappears as your fingers climb higher to cup Boba’s cheeks and his own fingers tighten around the back of your neck. He tastes like spotchka and he smells like blaster-residue and something warm that’s entirely Boba and you find your legs weakening under the press of his body against yours.

He finishes with a nip to your lower lip, the heat curling in his eyes and the pit of your stomach and he speaks to the Togruta’s without looking.

“If you wish to keep our contracts in place, I suggest you leave tonight.”

The Togruta’s nod fervently, the older dragging his son out the door by his shoulders, reprimanding him along the way. Boba watches them leave, then shoots a look to Fennec before he loops an arm around your waist and steers you towards your shared quarters.

Tags IG? @rebelpitstop @justanotherstarwarswhore @tacticalsparkles @beskarprincessjenny @ahoeformando

(Ya I’m still working on these don’t say shit)

#the siren writes #baroclinicinstability #boba fett x you #boba fett smut #the book of boba fett #boba fett fucks #boba fett fanfic #boba fett fic #boba fett fanfiction #boba fett x reader #k’s 700 follower celebration

[allthatyoulove]

Now or Never

Poe Dameron / Reader

Summary: It’s your first mission back on base, and you haven’t seen Poe since you broke up. When the mission goes wrong, unsaid feelings are revealed.

Warnings: cussing, angst, fluff

Words: 2.8k

Request: hi! could I request 6 from the prompt list for Poe? just some angst to fluff maybe?

A/N: This is my first requested story! Thank you sooooo much to the anon who recommended prompt 6 from my prompt list for Poe! Hope you enjoy! Feel free to leave any feedback and please let me know of any warnings or errors I missed! Thanks for stopping by :)

*****

“So after we take out the surface cannons, we come back to base. Got it?”

I finished my speech, slightly out of breath. I looked around at the other pilots to study their reactions. Some looked ready, bobbing their knees in excitement. Others looked pale, like they were going to puke or fly away to another planet. They all managed a nod in response to my question, which I took as a good sign.

I gave an over-dramatic, encouraging smile. “Great. Any questions?”

I paused for half a second before continuing, “Okay, so let’s gear up and load up the fighters.”

The pilots got up and walked to their fighters, murmuring to each other about how they felt about the mission. I stood on the makeshift stage for a second, watching them walk out.

Crash!

I flinched at the loud noise, following it to the entrance of one of the fighters. One of the rookie pilots had run into the box of bombs lined up when carrying another box in, and was frozen in place as they waited for the bombs surrounding them to stop moving.

I laughed to myself and jogged over.

“Get down, it’s gonna blow!”

The rookie immediately dropped to the ground in fetal position, holding onto their head and preparing for the bombs to blow up.

I reached the entrance, laughing to myself as I tried to keep a neutral look on my face.

“I’m kidding, they aren’t activated.”

The rookie slowly got up as if the bombs were still to explode any second. I took the box from their hands as they looked at me with a “I would beat your ass if you weren’t my commander” look and let them go rest somewhere before I got in trouble for tormenting the newbies.

I took a look around the ship as my laughing died down, trying to figure out where the box went. The box was filled with parts of a ship, which I assumed was meant for another fighter because of how new this one looked. It had a shiny new control panel, with thousands of buttons, which looked like they’ve yet to be used.

I sat down in the pilot’s seat, looking at all of the buttons in awe. I reached up to grab the steering wheel, feeling the smooth material and pretending to fly it.

“Watch it, sweetheart.”

I immediately tensed up and waited a second, sighing before I turned around.

Poe was leaning against the wall next to the entry ramp a couple feet away, looking at me with a sad smile.

“Sorry, I just-”

Poe was already shaking his head, dismissing the apology.

“You don’t have to apologize.” He whispered. The ship was quiet, the only noise was the low buzzing of the hull. We’d broken up a month prior, but this was the first time we had seen eachother since. I’d made sure to keep myself busy with every order General Leia gave me. It started to become obvious when she would send me on useless missions just because she could tell how badly I wanted to stay away from him, so I came back. This was my first mission back as a pilot and I already failed in staying away from Poe.

He was wearing his orange jumpsuit, with the white vest and black holsters around his legs and waist. His hair was curlier than last time and parted to the side. He looked good. He looked really good.

The room was suddenly extremely stuffy and almost unbearable to be in any longer. Only a minute had passed, but it seemed like we were staring at each other for hours. I cleared my throat, attempting to get rid of the tension.

“I’ll talk to you in a few, flyboy”

I smiled at him before getting out of the seat, making my way out of the ship. X-wings are fighting ships, which is why they’re so small and cramped. It’s hard to really understand that until someone else is on the ship with you.

Poe turned to face more of the wall next to the entry ramp of the ship as I attempted to slide past him to leave, which made me unintentionally grind on him. His hands immediately shot out to my waist, holding me in place as he let out a shaky breath.

I was suddenly out of breath. My skin was on fire under his touch. It was something familiar and comforting. I had almost forgotten how good it felt. His grip was unyielding, but soft and almost hesitant.

“Sorry.” I whispered.

He leaned his head forward on my shoulder, resting it there. I brought my right hand up to run my hand through his curls. It was still silent, both of us scared to talk and ruin this moment between us.

Fuck I missed him. I missed his touch, I missed his smell, I missed his voice.

The pain of being this close to him was too much. My eyes started to tear up as I stood there against him. I let a couple more seconds pass before I speed-walked out of the x-wing and towards my own. I didn’t turn around to look at him, even when he called my name.

I wiped the tear that left my eye as I walked to my fighter.

I came here for a mission.

I’m here to do that mission, then leave.

----

“It’s not every day we get a shot at a dreadnought, so let’s make this count.”

I’m not gonna lie, we are severely lacking in backup. I wasn’t going to let the rookie pilots know that, but for a job like this, we could’ve used a much bigger fleet.

This mission was Poe’s idea, and very last minute, so we couldn’t take any longer to carry this through. I tried to keep an optimistic view on it. Kind of.

I left the channel that included all the pilots and joined the channel that just Poe and I would be using. Poe and I were the ones who actually had to fly up to the dreadnought and take out the cannons, while the other pilots hung back and made sure no TIE fighters blew us up. So, we wouldn’t have to all be on a channel together unless absolutely necessary.

At least that’s what I told myself.

“You ready, Blue Leader?” came Poe’s voice through the comms.

“Ready as I’ll ever be, Black Leader.”

I looked to my left at him from our fighters, and our eyes met. He gave me a big smile as he talked again.

“Let’s go kick some Imperial ass.”

I smiled at him before I punched the fighter into acceleration, flying towards the dreadnought. I braced myself against the seat as my speed jumped and took aim at the first cannon.

I fired at the cannons that were lined up, turning the ship on its side before any of them could take aim at me.

I was on a roll, taking out cannon after cannon all while dodging the lasers being shot from them. I cheered and laughed, feeling the adrenaline pumping through my veins and feeling unstoppable in this moment.

“How you doing, Black Leader?”

“Better than you, doll face.”

I felt a familiar heat crawl up my face at the nickname, but managed to stay focused on the remaining few cannons. Poe was on my left and we were in unison. We had the same amount of cannons taken down, but he always loved to make it a competition between us.

I almost forgot how euphoric it was. Fighting against the First Order with a Resistance fleet behind me, side by side with Poe. Side by side with someone I love. We were taking out every single cannon, making a show out of it to overperform the other and give the rookies watching something to be entertained by. We were both laughing through the comms, watching each other's fighters flip and duck down in skill to show off. I made quick work of taking out the last cannon on my side so I can do what I planned to do next. Poe had just 1 more cannon to go on his side, and I was ready to take it out using the best cannon-destroying-move-thingy these pilots had ever seen. I held the steering wheel in anticipation, sitting all the way back against the seat and bracing myself.

The pilots behind us must have been too into our little show, because the only warning I got was Poe yelling in my ear seconds before it happened.

“Oh, shit, here comes the TIE-”

I looked over at Poe to see where he was looking before my body got thrown to the left against the seat belt strapping me in.

My x-fighter steered down and left, falling down fast and aiming directly for the top of the dreadnought.

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck-”

I yanked the steering wheeling as hard as I could towards my lap, aiming the ship up into the galaxy. Seconds before colliding into the Imperial ship it raised up, throwing the rest of my body down against the seat. I did a loop before correcting the fighter to it’s rightful path, coming around the back of the dreadnought to face the fleet. I caught my breath as I stared at the small fleet for a second, before I saw that there had been an ever bigger fleet of TIE fighters released from the Imperial ship. I immediately sprung back into action, following every TIE fighter I saw until they were down. Poe’s voice came through the comms.

“You alright, baby?”

I cleared my throat and tried to not give him the satisfaction of having a reaction to the nickname before I replied.

“Just fine, Black Leader.”

I had taken out five TIE fighters before General Leia’s voice came through the comms.

“Commanders, you did it. Now get your squad back here before we lose anyone.”

I immediately replied, “You got it, General. Coming back to base.”

I switched the comms over to the general one to relay the message.

“Time to head back, crew. Nice job today, now make sure to get back to base safely. These TIE fighters are relentless.”

I took out a few more fighters on the way back to base, making sure none followed any of the other pilots. My lip felt like it was bleeding from the force of the earlier crash, so I needed to get that checked out. Besides that, it was a very successful mission. We took out the cannons just like Poe had wanted, without the need for much backup from the fleet. I’m sure most of the pilots were thankful for that. I put the fighter into hyperspace before landing back on D’Qar with the base.

I jumped out of the fighter, taking a huge inhale of the fresh air and stretching my arms out. I was still smiling, giddy from all of the excitement that came with being behind the wheel again. I looked around the fighter landing, seeing all the pilots exiting their x-wings and running over to their friends to talk about it.

I looked for the ship with the black lines running across the top but couldn’t find it. I figured he must have already ran to Leia to bring up an idea for another mission.

I made my way towards the ship Leia was in with the rest of the crew, congratulating some of the pilots on the way over.

I walked through the doors and looked around for Leia. I heard her call out for me and ran over to her, analyzing the worried expression on her face and dropping my smile instantly.

“Where’s Poe?”

I froze.

“What do you mean where’s Poe? He didn’t return with the rest of the fleet?”

I walked around to the front of the panel Leia was looking at, switching to the screen to see the online status of the fighters. All of the fighters were checked out.

Except for Poe’s.

His voice rang through the panel.

“General, I can do this. I have the chance to take out a dreadnought! These things are fleet killers, we can’t let it get away!”

Leia replied angrily, “Disengage now, Commander! That is an order!”

Poe didn’t reply to her, the comms going silent. I knew what that meant. After being together so long, I knew he wasn’t going to listen. That was the best and worst thing about him. There was no stopping him from what he thought was best.

I still had to try.

I grabbed the mic next to the panel, pressing the button to speak into it.

“Poe?”

He sighed through the mic, taking a second to reply. I held the mic in anticipation, holding my breath.

“Sweetheart, It’s now or never. I have to-”

I paused a second, looking down at the panel.

“Poe? Hello?”

A big red “X” blinked over the image of his fighter on the panel. It seemed like the entire galaxy stopped, holding their breath and waiting for something to happen. Something to change.

“No no no no no… Poe? Can you hear me, Poe?”

Leia rested a hand on my shoulder.

“He’s gone offline, Commander.” She said sadly.

“No, General- he just- he’s fine, okay?”

I messed with the panel pushing all possible buttons to refresh the status, flicking the comm switch off and on repeatedly and continuing to talk through the mic. Nothing was working.

“I have to go help him.” I said before running out of the ship.

Leia called for me, but I ignored her and continued to run out to my fighter. A few tears left my eyes and I frantically wiped at them to try and clear my eyesight. I couldn’t fall apart now. Poe needed me.

I looked around for my ship, having a hard time looking through the smoke of nearby ships and people running around. I turned as I looked all around me for the blue stripe, not finding it anywhere.

I started to freak out, not having control over my breathing anymore.

“C’mon where are you… don’t do this now, c’mon..”

Tears were falling from both my eyes now, and I stopped trying to wipe them off. My vision was blurry as my mind went 100 miles per hour.

“He’s gone offline, Commander.”

I dropped to my knees in the middle of the runway as I sobbed.

He can’t be gone, please. He can’t.

I still looked around, trying to find my fighter from the ground. I saw a pilot lift a droid in the shape of a ball from their ship, setting it on the ground.

BB-8?

I frantically wiped my eyes, slowly standing so I could get a clearer view. My eyes finally cleared from the tears as I saw him.

Poe was kneeling down, patting BB-8’s head in congratulation as he turned and saw me. He got off his knee and smiled at me, starting to fast-walk over.

My face dropped in surprise, happy tears threatening to fall once again as I smiled at him with everything I had.

“Poe!”

I ran towards him as fast as I could, jumping into his arms. I wrapped my arms and legs around him, burying my face into his neck.

He wrapped one arm around my waist, holding me in place, and put the other on the back of my head.

He whispered frantically in my ear, “The cannon I missed- it hit my ship. The comms and weapon systems went down, I couldn’t- I lost you. I swear, I was on my way back. I was coming back to you.”

I picked my head up, bringing both my hands to cradle his face as I looked him in his eyes. I moved a few pieces of hair out of his face as I spoke, “I believe you, Poe. I just wanted you safe. Maker, I thought you- they said you-”

My voice died as I started to cry again, and he rested his forehead against mine as he spoke, “I didn’t realize you still cared.”

I sniffled, looking him in the eyes again.

“I never stopped.”

His gaze shifted between both my eyes, his eyes roaming my face in disbelief before he spoke again.

“I love you.”

He didn’t give me a chance to reply, resting his hand on my cheek and pulling me in for a kiss.

I stopped breathing as I immediately kissed him back with everything in me. He pulled me impossibly closer to him as we emptied all of the unspoken words between us into the kiss. He slowly set me down on my feet, wrapping his arm around my waist to pull me in closer to him as I arched into the kiss. We broke away, panting and out of breath. We looked at each other for a second before bursting into an adrenaline-infused laughter. I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him into a hug. He picked me up by my waist and spun me around, setting me down before we heard someone yelling at us.

“POE DAMERON!”

We both turned, seeing Leia storming out of the ship towards Poe.

“Shit.”

#poe dameron #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron one shot #poe dameron imagine #poe dameron fluff #poe dameron angst #star wars imagine

[thebadbatch]

Hii, can I request Crosshair being send by the empire to delay a rebel politician reader with the excuse of protecting her, but it happens to be a mission longer than expected and they start bonding and such? Thank you

A /N: l hope this is what you were looking for! I really liked writing this one so it's longer than the other oneshots I've written because I got carried away!

Imperial!Crosshair x Fem!RebelSenate

Plot: The empire have taken over the planet you try to protect and you've been assigned an imperial guard to protect you from the Bounty Hunter's who want you dead or for their own use. Crosshair ends up being your guard and connections blossom throughout the ongoing mission.

Warnings: Detailed description of Violence and a light mention of blood.

------------

Delay

"Why on Stars would you think I'd accept somebody from the Empire to protect me?" You shouted, anger clearly coating your voice as you spoke to your helpers. One sighed and stood forward, gently walking with you through the large and rather extravagant hallways of the place you were assigned to stay. "Don't you understand I'm a rebel? I speak for peace." Your helper nodded lightly, doing her best to remain professional.

"The planet you speak for is under the Empire now, my lady." She paused as you both continued to walk where you'd be greeted with the being who said they'd have to protect you. Things didn't feel right though, it was all so sudden but you had no choice but to leave your questions unanswered otherwise the Empire would silence you once and for all. "Please, allow them to give you their protection - just until things calm down." Nodding slightly in agreement you couldn't help but sigh as imperial ships came into view, storm troopers littering the streets whilst an admiral came to greet you whilst a darker clothed storm trooper stood behind him.

"Ah, senator y/n - I'm glad to hear the news that you've accepted our protection from bounty hunters set to kill you." Rolling your eyes, you soon narrowed your gaze onto him.

"Well it's not like I had much of a choice, is it?" Your words were coated in venom which only made the admiral laugh lightly  sending wary shivers down your spine. You had spent years giving people hope, but now you were working alongside the very thing you swore to destroy.

"I'm sure time with your newly assigned guard will change your view of things and you'll give out a good word for the Empire." The trooper stepped forward and removed his helmet to place it under his arm. His hair was a light silver, an interesting mark lay over his eye which only left you with burning questions. "This trooper is named Crosshair, he's the current leader of our newly formed Elite squad. This building will be on complete lockdown until the bounty hunters are eliminated, our trooper will be sure to defend you with his life."

"Yes sir." Crosshair confirmed, his voice was filled with mystery and confidence which just made you shiver.

"I appreciate your time and service, admiral." You had to practically bite your tongue to muster out those words. There was no other choice but to go along with it until there was some sort of reliable plan to get out of here. 

Turning your attention to Crosshair you thought the day through, "Come then, i'll show you around." He nodded and began to trail after you, a serious expression glued to his face. Showing him each individual area on the floor you were assigned to did take some time, but it was worth the protection and the longer this lasted the longer you could take to think up a plan to leave. "This is the final room, the Sleeping quarters. There are separate beds so I do hope you're not too fussed on sharing." He took a light breath in as he looked around, walking to the empty bed which would be his.

"That's not an issue." Sitting on your own bed, you watched as he did the same on his. The beds were opposite one another which gave him the best view to ensure you were safe at any given time.

"Well since we shall be spending a week or so cooped up together I thought that we could get to know one another." You attempted a smile towards him, one in which he didn't hesitate on not returning. Everybody from the Empire were so miserable and they were treated so horribly so you understood. "My name's y/n and I'm a politician reader on behalf of the rebels, I believe in hope and peace and know that it shall be achieved one day." A moment or so went by with no response from him, "How about you?" He shifted slightly against the blankets, moving his firepuncher rifle into his hands in a swift moment.

"I'm Crosshair, a sniper and currently your guard. I work alongside the Empire because they did not abandon me, they took me in." Tilting your head to the side slightly, you gave him a questioning gaze. 

"Who abandoned you?" He gave out a hollow chuckle, wiping a spec of dust that had rested against his rifle. 

"Nobody of your concern." 

"You know that there are better places than the Empire? People who will view you as family and not an irrelevant number they can just replace." His eyes narrowed at you as he spoke.

"I'm sick of playing 'families', I'm happy where I am." You soon decided to drop the conversation, not fully willing to make the man who was supposed to protect your life hate you. Allowing silence to fill the room once again, you soon felt comfortable with it. This would only last a few weeks at most, you could get through it.

A week had passed since Crosshair was assigned as your guard and no attempt on your life had been made yet which you found rather surprising. Time had dragged by pretty surprisingly and you couldn't help but start talking outloud to Crosshair who didn't really respond but you knew he was listening and that's all you needed.

"... And that's why I absolutely dislike the dark." His comm soon beeped, and a different voice was heard filling the room for the first time in the week you shared together.

"A breach has occured, keep y/n safe and with you. We cannot risk her life being taken when she will be valuable to us." The voice fell silent as Crosshair replied quickly, placing his helmet over his head.

"Sir, yes sir." Standing he grabbed his rifle and turned toward you, "Let's go." He walked out of the room you were both in and this time you were the one trailing behind him anxiety and fear filling your chest rapidly. 

"Where are we going?" You asked, trying not to let your voice shake with fear as his pace grew quicker toward a different room. 

"A more secure room, preferably without windows." A loud shatter from behind you accompanied his words before a hand gripped onto yours pulling you into their chest. Before you could realize what was happening, a blaster was against your head and a hand against your throat which made it difficult to breathe. Crosshair had just as quickly pointed his rifle to the person trying to take your life, tension filling the air alongside your jagged and desperate breaths. "Let the girl go." The person simply laughed and stepped back toward the window which only made Crosshair put pressure against the trigger. 

"What makes you think I'll let her go? She belongs with us - her skills could be vital for my kind." He snarled lightly in response as your breaths turned into light whimpers, your hands trying to pry the person's grip off of your neck.

"C-cross-" You whimpered out, voice filling the room. You couldn't see Crosshairs expression behind his helmet, but at your voice calling his name his face flashed with concern, worry and then anger. He didn't hesitate as he pulled the trigger, hitting the person in the head. The grip was freed from around your neck, red marks being left around your neck as you fell. Shattered glass cut into your hand, blood soon trailing down your skin. Crosshair picked you up all whilst activating his comm system.

"The threat has been neutralized." He took a soft breath before carrying you to the room you both shared, sitting you softly on your bed. "Requesting a clean up on the third floor." He ended the communication as he reached for the medkit in one of the draws, crouching before you and tending to your hand. 

"Thank you..." You mumbled, watching him tend to your hand so carefully made your heart swell - it was a sweet action but something you assumed he was hired to do.

"I'm just following orders." He responded as he finished clearing your hand up - his fingertips moving across the red marks upon your skin. You watched his face turn into anger as he viewed the marks, applying some bacta to soothe the sting. "I won't let them touch you again." In all honesty, you felt terrified - everything suddenly felt so real and who knew how many more times an attempt would be taken on your life? Exhaling a shaky breath, you nodded at his words and you finally allowed him all of your trust. His eyes seemed gentle as he gazed at you, only kindness filling them as he stood. "I suggest you get some rest now, y/n - I'll keep watch over you." He pulled the blankets back for you before he moved to his own bed sitting on the edge gripping his rifle as his eyes scanned outside the window. After climbing into bed you felt the previous shock begin to calm down, the absence of the adrenaline leaving you feeling empty and cold along with the realization that your life was on the line kicking in.

"Crosshair?" You gently called his name, "Can you stay a little closer?" Your question felt out of character for you, but things were just so terrifying and uncertain that you were desperate for some comfort - especially from the man who had just saved your life. He didn't respond so you assumed he just ignored your question rather than saying no. Your doubts soon left though as you felt a weight beside you on your bed, Crosshair sitting beside your tired self. "Thank you." You whispered, the room falling into a comfortable silence as his hand rested against your leg covered by the blanket. Sleep was quick to overtake you, all of your previous worry seemingly melting away at his touch. With him beside you, the week ahead would be bearable for sure.

Plans had changed at the news of more bounty hunters being assigned to take you out or with them, now Crosshair was staying for longer until the Empire had things under control. A month had passed since the attempt on your life and you had both grown closer than ever. During your rants he would always respond willingly and help out with things whenever he could for you, in fact you both managed to become close with one another. 

"So," You hummed as he turned his attention toward you, "when do you think they'll let you go back?" He shrugged lightly as he walked closer to you, helmet under his arm.

"Soon." Those words seemed to shatter your heart into literal pieces. "But I have no intention of leaving."  A smile crept onto your lips as you moved closer toward him, eyes lit up like a city at night. Your hands held his own as thoughts raced around your head at an incredible speed,

"Why don't I make you my permanent guard? I'm sure the Empire will be overjoyed that I've taken a liking to their services…" You didn't miss the smirk that placed itself onto his lips, his hands softly squeezing your own. Before he could speak, his comm system lit up again.

"Trooper, are you prepared to move out? We have another mission assigned." Your eyes met him in a gentle gaze praying to the stars that he'd stay alongside you.

"Actually, there's been a delay- a proposition has been made which I'm sure will benefit the Empire." The comm fell silent as You moved closer into his arms before the communication device lit up in confirmation,

"Understood. Take your time." With that, you held his face and met your lips with hisin a gentle get loving kiss. Pulling away you couldn't help but sheepishly grin at him - a rare smile of his falling back onto his face which you adored.

"You'll stay with me?" You asked, voice beyond helpful as he moved closer to you.

"I'll stay - I don't want to leave you like they left me." Nodding softly, you offered him a smaller smile.

"I won't ever leave you Cross like they did, I love you." His lips met yours once again before you both came up with a detailed plan on keeping him with you whilst still getting your hope filled messages out there. You were going to take down the Empire one way or another, but now you had Crosshair with you which made everything better. It was you two against the galaxy for years to come.

"I love you too."

#the bad batch #Tbb #The bad batch x Reader #Crosshair x reader #Clone Force 99 #Bad Batch #Starwars #Fanfiction

[austarus]

Harrison Wells (Eobard Thawne) x Reader x Harry Wells: Six Crows -Chapter 3

Chapter 3:  The Black Queen Falls

*A/N: This moodboard was created by my bestest friend and greatest Wells Trash Trio writer @darlingpetao3.

**Please don’t forget to comment, like, and reblog. It means a lot to content creators of all kinds!

***I’d also like to thank @grimtamlain-writes​ for being my beta reader.

Harrison Wells (Eobard Thawne) x Reader x Harry Wells: Six Crows 

MASTERLIST

Word Count: 3194

It’s time…

“Are we ready?” The villain did a once-over on all three of you. Jesse and Thaddeus were sporting their black running gear; speedster-proof as to not have their clothing and shoes erupt in static flames at their rapid velocities. The young speedsters nodded. You inhaled a shaky breath, nodding as well when those turquoise eyes landed on you. You were wearing your respective suit, your hands pulling at the gloves you wore. “Anything happens, you two know what to do.” Eobard indicated to Jesse and Thaddeus.

“We’ll be on comms with you guys,” Thaddeus grinned boyishly, tapping his ear.

“Oh, please if anything, I’ll be the one to get to them before you,” Jesse nudged her half-brother with a teasing smirk. He nudged her back, meeting the fire and playfulness within her eyes. Friendly competition between siblings.

“You’re on.” The two speedsters were already off, running around the track in order for a Time Breach to form when Eobard’s speed is added to the equation.

Eobard can’t deny the gentle smile that made its way to his face, turning his head to you. You saw right through it when he brought his fingers to his lips to mask it. He had gotten closer to Jesse, a good sign for what’s to come later. Your fiancé extended a hand towards you, gracefully you placed it into his open palm. Blue eyes ran over you once more to affirm that you were ready. You tilted your head in response, a subtle nod made in affirmation. Swallowing thickly, you placed a sincere kiss to Eobard’s lips that he returned with just as much passion. The dark-haired genius scooped you up in his strong arms and ran with the other speedsters. Time around you slowed while Eobard and Jesse and Thaddeus ran. It amazed you how their powers worked. After a few seconds, the Time Breach formed gallantly, allowing you and Eobard to careen right through the wormhole. You hid your face in the material of Eobard’s suit as his past, present, and future flew past him. Eobard focused on Harrison, focused on where he’d been located, focused on the time point after the Wells had used his Timeless powers to return to his dead lover’s time.

A noise whistled past your ear and all that your mind could register was the split second of being airborne, your eyes popping open as the world spun before you collided with the concrete sign. A hiss escaped your lips as your back screamed in agony. You tried with shaky hands to get up, your eyes landing on Eobard, who groaned as he moved upright from laying on his back.

“You didn’t think we were just going to let you go, were you?” Snapping you gaze to the source of the voice, those familiar hazel-green eyes that masqueraded anger and hate for you and your lover. Barry Allen. “Couldn’t stay away, could you?” You fell into place beside Eobard, sending an annoyed glare at the hero. Neither of you answered him as you and Eobard stood defiantly against Barry. “What are you after this time?” Iris trained her rifle at you, a hardened look on her face. “Another person to kill? Going back to finish the job you failed 22 years ago?”

“That’s none of your concern, Allen.”

“Oh no, but it is.” Barry shook his head, the dignified look on his face. Eobard narrowed his eyes bitterly. “See, you’re always up to something Thawne. Always scheming, always hurting someone else. Not this time.”

“Walk away, Flash. If you know what’s best for you, our business isn’t with you.”

“Not on your life, Thawne.”

Barry’s suit activated the microtech to place his cowl on, Eobard did the same – both speedsters channeled their respective Speedforces and zipped towards one another. Red and yellow lightning trailed before colliding dangerously. Torrents of energy whizzed past as sparks flew. Eobard would land a hit, so would Barry. They were evenly matched – reading each other’s movement expertly. It didn’t take long for the lightning sabers to come out. Barry’s movements and hits were more forceful, they weren’t as calculated as Eobard’s – methodically, blocking each hit with ease. Those months of training had come in handy, the villain hummed to himself as he created a bit of distance between him and his rival. If Barry wants a show, then I’ll give him one. With ease, a Speed Mirage was made; both versions of Eobard launched straight at Barry. One was to keep an eye on you and Iris, the other was to keep Barry 100% overwhelmed – after all, Eobard had gotten faster since they had last met.

Iris struggled to move; her feet held down in place by your ‘shadows’. “I’m sorry, Iris. I can’t let you interfere.” You pocketed your hands moving away from the speedster battle to give the two men more space. You were still a good distance away from Iris, keeping your eyes on the weapon she held. “This is their fight, not ours.” You had harnessed your ‘darkness’ to ensnare Iris in place once you had spotted her. Such technique took little effort from you as long as you eyed and felt the person you were holding with your ‘umbra’.

“It’s my fight as much as yours.”

“I don’t mean you any harm.” You shook your head as you raised your hands in mock defeat. “Fate has already decided that it would be them two alone. No one else. Remember your future article?”

“Crisis has passed – things have been re-written because of it. There is no final battle.”

“Iris there are certain things that can’t change – their fight is one of them whether it’s written or not. Neither speedster will stop, you know that.”

“Isn’t that what you two are doing? Trying to change time?”

You sent her a cold look, “I don’t owe you any explanation.”

Your eye caught a yellow flicker – a stray bolt gliding away from the circling speedsters. What… ?! Going opposite to your direction. Towards Iris. You didn’t think, you just ran – surging forward with your powers to intercept it. You had meant what you said, you weren’t meant to harm Iris. All your grievances were towards her entitled husband. Barry’s charged lightning throw shot you square in the chest, the electricity consumed your heart and mind. Your body convulsed as you stood before you crashed backwards to the ground, tasting blood. The smell of burnt flesh exuded in the air – patches of skin charred on your body. A deafening ring noise shot through your ears. Iris screamed at the sight, dropping her rifle and running towards you as your ‘shadow’ restraint weakened – you had saved her, at the cost of your life. You faintly heard your fiancé scream your name through the ringing, but… everything seemed so foggy. So unclear. Eobard had beat the reporter to where your body had slowly crumbled to the ground. His arms encasing you tightly, clinging onto you for dear life. A shaky hand rose to brush his cheek. 

“Eo?” You twitched in his arms, your muscles ached in pain – ached for release. Blood bubbled out of your mouth. The jolting, excruciating pain never ceased. “Tired.” His fingers went right to your neck, finding your heartbeat was becoming rapidly irregular. You shut your eyes, your hands numbing and your legs feeling increasingly… “Cold,” you rasped, coughing blood before losing consciousness. Your nervous system started shutting down even with your slight regenerative abilities trying to counteract them. The dark-haired Wells imposter saw your body convulse rapidly, the seizure increasing. You were going into cardiac arrest – he felt panic eat away at his mind. Barry had used his powers to stand in front of his wife defensively, his eyes scanning the scene. The hero pursed his lips as Iris started to cry – you were still her friend, through and through.

“No! Stay with me!” Eobard laid you on the ground and scooted away slightly. He rubbed his gloved hands – charging it to the correct jewels for resuscitation. “Clear,” he yelled to himself, latching his hands to your chest. He checked your heartbeat one more time, it was still too fast… “Please, I can’t lose you.” Once more, he charged up his hands and pushed it into your chest, trying to reset your heart. You remained unresponsive. It’s not working. He tried once more then resolved to do basic CPR, his tears blurring his visions of you, his breathing was erratic. “Stay with me! Don’t go to… Don’t you dare leave me!” Tears left Eobard’s icy eyes as soft murmurs escaped him. “No, please don’t leave. Please don’t leave me. I can’t…” The world had gone silent at the lightning strike.  A cracking noise reached his ears – he had cracked your ribs while trying to resuscitate you. HIs arms were tired, they protested in pain. “I can’t do this without you.” Only the villain's broken strained voice can be heard. “I can’t live without you.” Barry and Iris watched a distance away, he held Iris from reaching you both. Eobard brushed your hair to the side as his tears fell on your pale face, dull and drained. Blood trickled from the corner of your mouth and eyes. “Please, what about-”

“Dad!” Eobard gaze darted towards Thaddeus and Jesse, who had jumped out of the Time Breach, stumbling onto the scene. Bile rose in Thaddeus’ throat, his eyes welling up with tears as he fell to his knees beside his parents. One dead, the other shattered. Jesse let out a choked yell following her brother. Your son gripped your cold and charred hand tightly, feeling the remnants of Barry’s lightning still circulating your corpse. “Mom, what happened-” A tingling, numbing sensation was felt in Thaddeus’ legs. Thaddeus’ eyes dropped to his legs. “Dad! Dad, what’s-” Eobard felt frozen at Thaddeus' shouts, his eyes widening in horror as his sons’ body began to disintegrate. He couldn’t move to him. The time paradox had already caught up to him. You were dead in his arms and now Thaddeus…

“Oh my god,” Jesse stuttered in shock, her arms holding Thaddeus tightly. Her mind realized that this was what happened to Jackson. This is how Jackson was lost. “You’re- you’re being-”

“-No,” the villainous speedster whispered helplessly as he cradled you. “No, please. I can’t lose you too!” Eobard extended an arm to Thaddeus. “Thaddeus, look at me. Just keep looking at me.” His precious son cried, the pain becoming excruciating as he clung to his father. The type of pain that Eobard had felt many times over. “It’s going to be ok.”

Barry whispered to Iris before speeding her home, they didn’t need to stay to see what would happen next. The hero had gone through that pain with Nora’s erasure the first time – thinking that what goes around does indeed come around. Bitterly and gruesomely. While he did feel a tinge of sadness at your lost life, Barry didn’t really care all that much. You had made your choice. It was absolute to the hero. It was fate.

“Dad, I don’t want to go!”

“Don’t let go, Thaddeus. Don’t let go, Thaddeus. I-I’m right here. We’re right here.” Eobard pressed Thaddeus close to his body while you lay limp across his lap. Jesse’s heart wrenched at his broken voice – the agony that had sounded so similar to her fathers. Only Thaddeus’ arms and upper body remained, burying his face in Eobard’s shoulder, what’s left of his body shaking. 

“I don’t want to go. Please don’t let me go. Please! Do something!”

I can’t.

Eobard’s hand registered nothing, but the air. Thaddeus was gone-

***

-Eobard woke with a start, his heart hammering away in his chest as adrenaline coursed in his veins. His mind registered the cold sweat on his body. Blue eyes darted to where your body laid as the speedster attempted to calm his breathing. Two fingers gently pressed to the side of your neck, checking your heartrate. He counted the beats, counted the seconds before retracting his hand. Pushing the bile down, Eobard gingerly left the bed. He grabbed a change of clothes and left the room with a slight ‘tick’ of the door shutting. Eobard’s speed carried him to Thaddeus’ room, where he found his son snoring peacefully with the bed covers haphazardly thrown off the bed. Rubbing his face, Eobard’s feet carried him outside. The drizzle falling down to the earth. It was still dark out, but Eobard wasn’t afraid of the dark for he was darkness himself at times. The speedster slowed his breathing then pushed forward; his speed carried him through the city of Keystone. Lights blinked past him, soft noises here and there reached his ears. Eobard let the tears flow, his mind playing the scene over and over again. Your lifeless body, Thaddeus being erased – because of Barry. Always because of Barry Allen – the so called ‘hero’ that caused pain and suffering to those around him. It was just him and Jesse. He gritted his teeth, pushing himself more – channeling his Negative Speedforce.

Anger is… misconceived. It isn’t a ‘bad’ or ‘negative’ feeling. Instead, it is information. It shows us how to set better boundaries. The impact of the rain increased, no longer drizzle, but a downpour. The clouds hung maliciously in the night sky as white lightning flickered in and out. He paid no mind to it as he continued running lap after lap after lap. It shows us how to grieve. It shows us how to process the emotion itself. Sometimes people experience difficult and terrible circumstances – it’s ok to be upset, it’s ok to be angry. Anger empowers us humans to process and express it differently. Only a person can choose a destructive means for their anger. I made that choice to avoid feeling the pain – this constant pain in my chest. That hollowing feeling.

“You know,” Eobard’s ears perked up at the voice as he shut the front door, locking it; it was your voice. His eyes made contact with your shaded silhouette in the darkness. Rainwater dripped from his dark locks, running down the back of his neck. “Not being able to sleep is more my thing.” You stood up from where you sat on the wooden stairs, stepping towards him with the towel and a change of clothes. Lightning continued to grace the skies outside, illuminating the earth as thunder rumbled deeply soon after. Light does travel faster than the speed of sound.

“Guess I’m full of surprises,” the speedster mumbled, taking the towel to dry his hair. With gentle eyes, you examined him. He hadn’t been meeting your gaze since you had gotten this close to him. You chewed on the inside of your cheek for a moment.

“What’s troubling you?”

Before responding, Eobard dried himself using his speed and changing into the dry set of clothes while he was at it. He took your hand, tugging you to the couch to sit beside him. He maneuvered his body to face you while you got comfortable. The genius took your hand once more with both of his, placing a kiss on the palm of your hand. His silence was causing your anxiety to start flourishing. Eobard licked his lips. “I watched you die,” he kept his eyes on your hand, holding it near his mouth. “I watched you die in my arms, caught in the crossfire because of Barry’s lightning bolt.” Icy blue eyes reluctantly looked up into yours. “You protected Iris, but I lost you.”

You swallowed thickly, goosebumps littering your skin. “… Eo.”

“I watched you die and Thaddeus… I saw him being erased from existence. The timeline catching up to him, ripping him molecule by molecule until he was nothing. Until he was gone. Right before my eyes, right from my hand.”

A tormented silence fell over you and Eobard, the puffy bags in his eyes were relentless. “We won’t let that happen; we’ll mend our broken family. We have to try, for our sanity and for their sake.” You pushed the words out of your mouth.

“I…” But words failed the dark-haired speedster.

“Eo, I’m here,” you pulled your hand from his grasp, scooting your body closer to his to cup his face. “It was a warning, that nightmare.” You understood nightmares, they were a constant part of your life because of the trauma you had endured from being around Team Flash. No doubt the others struggled with theirs as well, but pushed off to the side for Barry and Iris. “It was a warning for us to be cautious and meticulous. And we will be, we always are. You always are with your planning.”

“I want to be able to hold our sons,” Eobard laid his head onto your chest, his arms wrapping around your waist. You felt the words break you, the innocent desire ever-present in his voice. “I want that, and yes, even if it is with Harry Wells. I want Jesse to be around to watch the boys when we can’t. If that’s how fate has intended it for the three of us, then so be it.”

“I want that too.”

You placed a kiss on his forehead, asking him to move a bit so the two of you can lay on the couch. Your arms wrapped around his arms, a hand stroking his back while he tightened his grip around you. His head remained on your chest, listening intently to your heart beat. Eobard kissed the skin above your vital organ. A sigh left his lips as you started playing with his hair, still slightly damp from his run.

“Do you have feelings for Harry?”

Your eyes fell to see his. “I…” You only nodded in response to his simple question. “When you got erased, I felt that… that was it for me. That was the end of things, you know? I… I thought you were gone and then you show up three years later with the Earth-Xers. I-we didn’t,” you stumbled over your words, trying to phrase things correctly. “When I first met him, I told myself that he wasn’t you. He could never be you. Harry is Harry; he is his own person. A dark instinct to him, yes, but he wasn’t you. There were some similarities, but… He made a name for himself with Barry and the others. It started small, I tried to ignore it, especially after he left when the Zoom incident was over. But… he kept coming back. His home was here, his friends were here. My feelings grew, but I couldn’t say anything. I didn’t want to say anything. I was content with being friends because I was scared that he’d get taken away from me. And with Devoe, I was partially right. But Jesse fixed him and then…”

“Crisis happened.”

“Yeah…”

Eobard’s hand rubbed your cheek. “We’ll figure things out – we’ll make things work as we go, my queen.”

“I hope so, Eo.”

I won’t let that nightmare become my reality.

#harrison wells x reader #harrison wells #eobard x reader #eobard thawne x reader #eobard thawne #harribard x reader #eowells x reader #harry wells x reader #harry wells #harribard eowells x reader #harribard eowells #eowells #reverse flash #the cw #thaddeus thawne #jackson wells #jesse wells #Barry Allen #Iris West-Allen #Kinetic #Jesse Quick #Paladin #the flash #the flash cw

[empower-bi-women]

Hi! In case you write for Tim Drake, I’d love if you could write a smut in which Tim and the reader have known each other for long and the sexual tension is obvious but none of them ever acted upon it until now. Thank you very much.

That pesky sexual tension 

Summery: Hi! In case you write for Tim Drake, I’d love if you could write a smut in which Tim and the reader have known each other for long and the sexual tension is obvious but none of them ever acted upon it until now. Thank you very much.

Warnings: SMUT so if you’re not 18 begone thot, spanking, teasing, dirty talk, cheesy writing? 

A/N: I tried to be a little more cute with this one so let me know what you think. And to the anon who requested this I’m sorry it took so long I hope you like it! Also this is my first ask!! So sorry if the format is a little strange I’m still trying to figure it out.

Word count: 3041 

“Timothy Drake, I swear to god give me back my book!” you chased him into the kitchen where he ran to the other side of the counter. 

“Why don't you come over here and make me.” He replied with a teasing smile on his face. You lunged forward across the cold counter top to reach for your book. He laughed at your struggle “Come on Y/N you know you never won a fight against me without someone helping you.” 

Shit he had a point you thought, everyone else was out at the store. You gave up, sitting on the counter with you back to him and pouted. Arms crossed looking towards the open door. Laughing he walked over to face you. 

“Aw come on I was just teasing.” he put his arms down on either side of you, trapping you in but you refused to look at him. “Come on look at me,” he leaned down to try and catch your gaze but you just moved your head. “Y/N?” he looked at you with wide eyes before they narrowed, “Y/N look at me.” His voice dropped into that commanding tone he used on patrol. You couldn’t help but look up to meet those blue eyes that bore into yours. The silence in the room was deafening. He leaned in closer and closer until your breath was his. Noses almost brushing. Lips almost touching. He glanced down at your lips. 

The kitchen door burst open causing the two of you to jump apart as the rest of the boys walked in carrying grocery bags, chatting loudly. Dick and Jason froze in the doorway causing Damian to bump into them from behind. 

“Now what do we have here?” Jason asked in a teasing voice. 

“Nothing. Did you get my coffee?” Tim said, his voice back to normal. 

“Did you put it on the list?” Dick asked, shooting you a strange look as you hopped off the counter, “what were you guys doing in here anyway?” 

“Tim took my book right out of my hands so I had to get it back.” You replied.

“Damn I thought you were finally resolving that pesky sexual tension.” Jason said through a mouth full of marshmallows. 

“Jason!” You, Tim, and Dick all yelled out.

“What! This has been going on for way too long. We were all thinking it” He tried to defend himself. 

“We most certainly were not Master Jason,” Alfred came to save the day, “and please refrain from eating all the food before it's even put away.”

He grumbled before putting the bag away. You snached your book away from Tim before walking into the living room to finish reading. 

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Come on please Y/N just look it up! It won’t even take five minutes.” Tim pleaded with you, hiding a smile on his face.

“I thought you were the computer wiz, do it yourself.” You replied, not looking at him. He grabbed the back of your chair and spun you to face him. Kneeling down he looked in your eyes. “Please?” his voice was barely above a whisper as he leaned in closer, “for me?” 

Your cheeks heated up. “I’m busy right now, go ask someone else.”

“Ok can you just check this one thing please?” 

“Out!” You spun your chair away from him but he still leaned down and pressed a kiss to your head before walking away.  You shook your head trying to clear the thoughts running through your head of the way his forearms flexed as he gripped the chair arms. The way his bright blue eyes looked like they wanted to devour you whole. Ugh this man is going to kill me you thought. 

--------------------------------------------------------

That night you were working comms with Barbara in the cave. Things were going smoothly until Tim called in.

 “Hey Oracle, hey angel, can you guys find out who that guy over there is and what he's doing please and thank you.” Your eyes went wide at the nickname he gave you. You could see Barbara looking at you out of the corner of your eye and heard Jason and Dick laughing though the comms. You ignored them as your fingers flew across the keyboard as facial rec worked its magic. 

“His name is Jimmy Figgis. He’s fresh out of bellrev, he was in for drug dealing and black mail.” You said into the comms.

“Well it would be a shame if he got caught red handed doing a deal. He would go back to jail.” Barbara chimed in. 

“Looks like we got a stake out boys.” Dick said.

“It's ok guys, I can stay for the drop.” Tim said, his voice low as he settled in for the night, “I'll have Y/N to keep me company, right angel?”  

“I mean it's not like I have a choice do I.” 

Not even half an hour later Tim started to get bored. And his target was you. Barbara had to leave to take care of some other stuff so you were alone. Tim decided it would be a good idea to switch frequencies and mess with you. 

“Hey Y/N, have you ever thought about us while touching yourself?” 

You spat out your coffee. “What the fuck Timothy!” You heard his laughter on the other side of the line. 

“Well I'm just asking because I know for a fact that Dick thinks of Babs and Jason thinks of Diana sometimes but he would never admit it. And I got curious. Who do you think of?” 

You could practically hear the smile in his voice. “Wouldn't you like to know. You really should focus on the stake out instead of my masturbation habits.” 

“Aw angel I can almost see you blushing from here. You look adorable.” 

“Shut up Tim.”

“Have I ever told you how much I love hearing you say my name? It sounds so sweet I can almost imagine what you would sound like screaming it underneath me.”

You froze. You and Tim had always had a flirtatious relationship but this was a new level entirely. This was dangerous territory. “Don't start things you can't finish Timothy.” Your voice was low. 

“Oh believe me angel I always finish. And I make sure my partner does too.” 

You threw your head back in frustration. “Focus on the stake out and we can continue this later.”

“Is that a promise?”

Before you could reply Bruce’s voice crackled through the comms “Red Robin we’re coming to you.” 

-------------------------------------------------------------

A few arrests and fight later the bats rolled into the cave. Alfred was on standby with the medical kit but there was no need. You shifted uncomfortably as Tim’s eyes raked over your body, pausing on your legs that were squeezed together, trying and failing to give you relief from the ache in your pussy. He smirked at the site of you waiting for him, all needy. 

“Good job tonight guys. Shower and get some sleep,” Bruce said, taking his cowl off, “I’m looking at you Tim.”

Tim just smiled. You both knew there would be no sleeping tonight. Tim walked over to you, his cowl was off and his dark hair was messy. Fuck he looked good you thought to yourself. The look on his face was calm but you could see something in his eyes. All the years you've known him, you had never seen this look in his eyes. It was dark and lit a fire inside you. 

“Do you still want to do this? Because once we start, I'm not stopping.” his blue eyes stared into yours.

“I believe I have a promise to fulfill.”

He gave you a wicked smile. “I want you upstairs in my room, ten minutes. And no touching yourself.” He tapped your thighs that were pressed together before walking away.

-------------------------------------------------------

Your head was a mess by the time you headed up to Tim’s room. You had bid goodnight to the rest of the boys when your phone chimed. Tim had sent you a picture from the shower. Towel low on his hips showing off his v line, water droplets glistening off his abs, and the way his hand gripped his phone showed off all the muscles and veins in his arms. The wetness between your legs grew with every step towards his room. You knocked on his door, the loud sound of your knuckles against the wood echoed throughout the hallway. 

“Come in.” His voice was muffled by the door. You walked in to find him sitting on a chair across from the bed in nothing but a pair of grey sweatpants. “Lock the door.” His voice was low and commanding, not unlike that day in the kitchen. That same electric energy that you felt then was in the room, now magnified by 100. 

“I'm going to ask you one more time, are you sure you want this?” 

“Yes Tim I’m sure.” 

“Good girl,” the praise sent shivers down your spine, “Take off your clothes and lay down on the bed.” Your heart was beating out of your chest as you slowly took your shirt off. “I don't recommend teasing me angel, it won't work out well for you.” You just smiled as you turned around, taking your pants off while wiggling your ass tauntingly. You didn’t even hear him move before you felt a sharp pain across your backside. You moaned at the contact. 

“Aw does my little angel like pain?” he questioned mockingly before coming down on you again, “I asked you a question Y/N, I expect and answer.” 

“Yes sir.” You heard him laugh behind you. He wrapped his hand in your hair and pulled you up against his warm chest. “Well isn't that a nice surprise. I always knew you had a thing for authority.” His voice was low in your ear. Your head went back to rest on his shoulder as he kissed his way down your neck, sucking and biting the skin there. His movements against your body are slow and calculating. Tim always seemed gentle and calm but the truth is that no one knows how he respresed his emotions, and his needs. But tonight he was going to take whatever he wanted. And you would let him. 

“What do you have to say for yourself?” His hands caressed your skin.

“I’m sorry sir.”

“Sorry for what?”

You took a shallow breath. He was really going to make you work tonight. “For teasing you.” 

He turned you around to face him. “Such a good girl for me, aren’t you?” He said softly, brushing your hair out of your face, before kissing your lips gently. Looking into his eyes you could never tell what he was thinking. His face was calm and passive. That is until he let go. And you would do whatever it takes to see him lose control. Even if that meant misbehaving. 

“Get on the bed for me angel.” he kissed your forehead before turning his back on you but you didn’t move. He grabbed a red tie from his desk and turned around, his eyes widening at the sight of you still standing there. “Did you not hear me?” He raised his eyebrows at you, “I said, get on the bed. Now.” 

You could see the annoyance in his eyes. He was starting to slip, you wouldn’t stop now. 

“Make me.” 

Those two words lit a fire in him. He picked you up easily and threw you onto the bed with such force that you bounced. “I told you not to tease me angel.” He growled as he crawled towards you on the bed. He grabbed your ankle and pulled you towards him so he was hovering over you, arm placed next to your head. His hot breath hit your face. “You were being so good angel, what happened? Why are you being a brat now.” 

You whimpered at his words. His hand slipped down to your panties and rubbed a finger up and down your slit ever so lightly. 

“Tim please.” You begged him. A sharp smack to your thigh brought you out of your daze. 

“I'm sorry, what was that?” his voice has a dangerous edge to it. His eyes were wild, “that not what you're calling me tonight, is it.” 

“Sir, please! Please touch me, I need it.” You pleaded with him. He rolled his hips into yours, putting pressure where you needed him most. 

“Will you listen to me now?” 

“Yes anything you say.” You replied, needing to feel him closer. 

He moved in to kiss you, stopping just before your lips touched. You moved up trying to close the distance but his hand was quick around your throat, forcing you back down. “I'm going to eat this pretty little pussy,” he murmured, “I want you to stay still and you must ask for permission before you cum. Understood?” 

You nodded, desperate for anything he would give you. He removed his hand from your neck and kissed his way down your body to your soaked panties. His rough hands spread your thighs open, leaving a wet kiss on both before pressing a kiss to your clothed clit. You shifted your hips up, trying desperately to get more stimulation. His arm trapped your hips down. 

“Now angel, what did I tell you about moving?” He moved away from where you needed him most. 

“I’m sorry sir, please I need you.” You looked at him with desperate eyes. 

“All these years I’ve known you, you've always been a tease to me. Whether you knew it or not. I've been waiting for so long for this, I’m going to take my sweet time,” he growled, “you can lay there and shut up, it's my turn to tease you now Y/N.” 

He dove back in and licked a long stripe over your panties. Heat washed over your body as you felt your pussy gush at his actions. He slowly pulled them off your body leaving kisses down your legs. Leaving hickeys on your inner thighs. He ran his tongue over the dark red marks he left behind. Throwing your panties somewhere in his room, he came back to your throbbing core. Running a finger through your wetness he cooed at you. “Oh angel you're just soaking wet for me aren't you? I can't wait to taste this sweet little cunt.” 

He licked up your slit, collecting your juices. He moaned at the taste. His tongue flicked against your clit ever so lightly, giving you some stimulation but not enough. One hand snaked up in between your thighs to play with your cunt. 

You threw your head back at the sensation of his tongue and fingers working their magic on your body. His lips wrapped around your clit and sucked. You gasped at the sensation, shivers running down your spine. His finger teased your entrance. 

“You’re fucking drenching me sweetheart. You taste so good when you're like this for me.”

“Please sir I need you.”

“Where do you need me angel?” his finger slid all the way in, “right here?” 

Your eyes rolled back as he finally gave you what you wanted. His finger rubbed against your g spot immediately, making soft moans escape your mouth. “Does that feel good?” 

“Yes” You whimpered. He smacked your thigh. “What was that?” He said roughly, looking up to meet your eyes. 

“I’m sorry, yes it feels good sir.” 

Satisfied with your answer he slowly pumped his finger in and out of you, rubbing your clit in tight circles with his thumb. Before long you were thrashing on the sheets, hands gripping the pillow above your head. Your stomach fluttering as you neared your climax. 

“Are you a good girl?” Tim questioned.

“Yes sir.” you cried out, “please let me cum, please sir.” Your voice was shaking as you tried to control yourself. Out of nowhere he pulled away, licking his fingers as he watched you kick your legs in frustration. 

“What the FUCK Timothy!” You shouted as he got off the bed and walked to his desk. Laughing to himself he reached into a drawer and pulled out a condom. 

“Gotta be safe right?” He said with a smirk on his face.

You sighed. “I thought you were just going to leave me there.”

“That's only if you’re a bad girl but you've been good for me so far, so good that I’ll give you what you want.” He said sliding into you. He leaned down and kissed your forehead as you both caught your breath. Once you adjusted to him you tapped his shoulder to move. 

“You feel so good wrapped around me angel.” Tim whispered softly in your ear, as he thrust his hips into yours. Finally getting what you needed. You wrapped your legs around him pulling him as close as you could. Your lips met in a heated kiss as the knot in your stomach grew impossibly tighter. His hips snapped into yours at a steady rhythm. Your legs trembled as your orgasm approached at a blinding speed.  

Your hips moved to meet his every thrust.  

“Tim I’m gonna cum.” You said breathlessly 

“Just wait angel one more minute.” The pleasure almost overwhelmed you but the need to be good for him won out. “I want you to cum with me in 3,” your nails clawed down his back, “2,” your eyes fluttered shut, “1.” He growled in your ear. 

Your stomach contracted as your body shook with pleasure. His hips stuttered to a stop but his hand kept rubbing you, prolonging your orgasm as long as he could. 

You finally pushed his hand away, the feeling getting to be too much. You both lay there next to each other, catching your breath. 

“So does this mean we’re together?” You asked, your voice small. 

He rolled over to look at you, a big smile on his face. “Definitely.” 

#Tim Drake #smut #batboys #batboys smut #tim drake smut #tim drake x fem!reader #tim drake x reader #red robin #red robin smut #red robin x reader #batman #dceu #dc fics #dc #sabrina writes

[lucycola]

Spock being kind of betrayed by his love interest but after a bit of angst, everything falls into place and fluff is baaaack :>

Spock x Fem!Reader

WARNINGS: Language, sexual situations, daddy kink if you squint

Spock is a bit of a stubborn asshole in this one. He doesn’t like being lied to and will not stop at getting the truth, especially when he knows it’s about him. Spock may be a little too personal in front of Bones, but it’s an emotional situation. 

The buzz from your monitor diffused through the air, ringing in Spock’s ears. As low as it was it still brought him to groggily open his eyes. The whole room was wrapped in a soft blue glow. He sat up, hand immediately feeling the empty spot next to him.

“I’m sorry, but I’m not exactly sure how long,” you whispered, hunched over the screen.

“T’hy’la,” he said into the glow, tone sharper than he intended.

You hurriedly flipped off the monitor.

“Spock,” you said, “I’m sorry I woke you.” You tip-toed carefully across the room and crawled back under the thermal blankets. Your boyfriend have better been thankful that you were extremely cold natured otherwise the mere temperature of his cabin would drive you out of the room.

“What were you-”

“I was finishing up some work for the lab. I dreamed of it and woke and immediately I had to do it before it slipped my mind.”

He could sense your deceit in the way your voice wavered, but it also did that when you were grieving. He moved to find your hand in the dark, but failed as you began to massage his scalp.

Were you avoiding his touch? he wondered.

“Sleep, Sa-mekh,” you gently teased him with the only word that could make his scowl at you, other than ‘papa’ itself. He did like it in bed, however, as much as he denied it.

You paused, thinking of the word critically, a surge of panic leaving your hands. He could feel it, “Tell me what ails you. Who were you talking to a moment ago?”

“Myself,” you quickly yanked your hands away. “I really am sorry for waking you.”

He didn’t bother turning to face you or to further question you. It would come out eventually at the test of his impatience or yours. Something was upsetting you-he felt the raw emotion even through the follicles of his scalp. He would take more time to ponder-more time to investigate.

“I shall return to  sleep - as should you. You should participate in your work on the alpha shift singularly as your sleep cycles will continue to be disrupted therefore lowering you work efficiency-”

“And yours?” you finished for him, half joking. “Whatever you say, Commander.”

x

“I wish everyone would stop treating us like we’re married, honestly,” you said, crossing your arms in front of Doctor McCoy.

“All I know is that I’ve got an irritated Vulcan asking me to scan you. He thinks you're hiding something from me and he’s doing whatever he can to figure it out before actually asking you. Something about not letting him touch you. I tried to tell him it was normal once a month-”

You gave him a playful swat.

“Forgive me, I jest.”

“How ridiculous,” you replied and then sighed.

“That’s a man’s pride for you. It escapes no species,” Nurse Chapel said handing you back the report.

“And as you are hiding something, I’m guessing, I suggest you go on out with it. He’ll tear the ship apart finding an answer.”

“And how I think he used to indulge in smothering me in rapid fire questions. That was before our first meld,” you said, fingering the edge of the padd not having fully looked at it yet.

“I’m surprised he hasn’t tried that yet,” McCoy said, “He’s already hunted me down once. I’m not allowed to say anything, but as a favor to me-”

“Bones-”

“Keep him out of my hair and tell him whatever it is you’re lying about-”

You turned the padd to face him and his eyes enlarged, first with shock and then with mirth. He let out a hearty laugh.

“Good luck with that one. I’d say he’s gonna turn green, but that’s normal for him.”

“Have you  talked to your mother yet, honey?” Nurse Chapel asked.

x

Why would you have spoken with your mother so late an hour? Was it purposeful because he had been sleeping? Was it an emergency? Surely you would have told Spock.

He had already extracted the call log from his comm, even though the data had been private and locked under your information. You would fuss at him later he already knew, but this little inkling in the back of his mind reminded him. That raw feeling he felt through your hands. It terrified you. You were scared of something.

You were lying to him. You had lied to him. You had not been speaking to yourself. You had been speaking to your mother. He supposed he could contact your mother, but you two had never formally been introduced and some parties might find that offensive.

You were eating less and less and sleeping with him less and less. You weren’t being as intimate as you usually were either and that was most alarming. Not because it was a requirement to Spock, but because it was a deviation of your behavior. Spock didn’t usually adopt Terran colloquialisms, but once after sucking him off in the lab in the middle of a gamma shift he called you a ‘dirty bird’. He always made you blush when using Terran phrases and slang.

Was it something he did? It seemed he was always doing something, but Spock could honestly not place something accidentally offensive or insulting he might have said. You were pretty good at pointing out when he was too candid or too critical. He was good at pointing out when you were too emotional and too...well too human.

Yet he relished in every bit of that-and so did you, or so he thought you had.

So what was it?

Spock didn’t chew on his nails, but found himself letting the edge of his thumb rest in his teeth.

A familiar warm hand clapped him on the shoulder.

“Look alive, Spock,” the captain playfully chided.

“I assure you captain I am in no way deceased.”

x

You were pregnant. It was that simple. Yet, it didn’t feel simple at all. You wouldn’t hardly let Spock even touch you for fear of finding out. You were terrified of his response.

You were puking in the bathroom and had called your mother immediately. It was the second week in a row and Christine’s labs proved it.

You had a bun in your oven. You could see Spock giving you the quizzical brow at the use of the expression. You could see yourself fussing a little, telling him you knew that he knew exactly what that phrase meant and to stop acting like he didn’t.

It was true what you had said to Bones.

You two weren’t married. It was perfectly normal to have a child out of wedlock- that was, on Earth. You hadn’t even met his parents. What would they say? It would only be a fourth Vulcan. He didn’t speak fondly of his father and whenever prompted you could practically read how sour their relationship was. His father had to be fond of humans to some extent-his wife was human after all.

Would other Vulcans shame Spock? Would they shame your baby?

You heard a buzz from the comm. You got up out of bed and walked over.

“McCoy to Yeoman L/N.”

“Yes, doctor?”

“I’ve got a green-blooded devil down here demanding your presence.”

You groaned into your fist.

“You can’t make me.”

“Please.”

It was the first time you ever heard Spock say that. The tone was nearly pitiful as it was on edge.

x

“You can’t make anyone get a scan, Spock. She doesn’t even work in your division,” Bones said once you arrived.

“She has not been eating, sleeping, nor participating in the normal intimate recreations. Her behavior is off and her pallor has changed considerably,” Spock argued.

“That’s not of anyone’s business, Spock,” you said, appalled. He was being...so unlike himself. It was even weirder that it was in front of Bones. Spock would rather eat his hat than be any kind of vulnerable in front of...well anyone. 

“He’s...he’s just worried about you,” Nurse Chapel offered politely from afar.

You groaned, “I wish everyone would just stay out of it. I’m not ready for this.”

“Well you should’ve thought about that before you...uh” Bones started but immediately stopped when you shot him daggers, “Spock, why don’t you just ask her?’

“She has deceived me once before. I do not trust her again to be candid. She is either emotionally upset with a matter and does not want to tell me because it concerns me or she is ill and is emotional about such and does not want to tell me. Either way I am...most concerned.”

It seemed Spock would be eating his own hat later. You could feel the heat rise in your cheeks. Was he really this worried? 

“Spock...”

He turned to you, “I apologize for involving the doctor but I do not like it when you lie. Especially when I can be of assistance.”

You could feel water brimming at your lashes. “You’re so smart, Spock. Just so damn smart I hate it.”

You sat on the edge of one of the stretchers, tears dribbling down your face.

“Now, look what you’ve done, you ass!” Bones said angrily, “Out of my bay this instant.”

Spock ignored him and knelt down in front of you.

“I can help. And if I can’t we will find a way, ashayam.”

You looked up at him. “I am upset with something...and I am sick and it does have to do with you. Both of your guesses were right.”

You held out a hand. He assumed it was to meld, but it wasn’t so as you only placed his hand palm down on your still flat abdomen.

His eyes widened. “Y/N...”

“I know I lied about talking to my mother. I was just afraid you would find out and I wasn’t... I just don’t think we’re ready. I want to be ready, but I don’t know if you’re ready. We’re not married and I don’t want to cause trouble for you on Vulcan.”

He stared at your stomach for a long time, hand unmoving.

“I do not care what others think of me on Vulcan. I do not care what they think of my t’hy’la or my child,” he said with a tone of finality, “I only care what you think. If you are not ready I will not force you to beget my children.”

“Are you ready?” you asked.

“I do not think a parent ever truly is. My mother once spoke those words to me,” he admitted, “But it is not my say in the matter whether you choose to carry out the pregnancy. Do you wish to terminate the pregnancy?”

“No, Spock.”

He rubbed your stomach gingerly, “I am sorry for my behavior, ashayam. It was most ill-mannered of me. The mother of my child deserves better treatment.”

You placed your hand over his while it was still on your stomach, “I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t lie to you.”

“Well, well,” the doctor spoke up from the awkward silence beside his nurse, “I guess we ought to pass around cigars now?”

It seemed you both had forgot that Bones and Christine were still even there, witnessing the sappy moment between you two. 

Spock repaired that easily. 

“I will not allow my t’hy’la to engage in such a habit or for those surrounding her to do so. Certainly, doctor, you do not permit such unhealthy behaviors to pregnant persons.”

You laughed and Bones rolled his eyes.

Another day on the Enterprise, you thought. Another day.

tagged: @groovyfluxie @dontgivedeath @lumar014 @pringtella @moonchildlonan @superninjapervert420 @love-wanderlust15 @ischysiaclark​@imyourspacegirlfriend @hiddlestonme @fandoms4ever97 @mywellspringoflife​ @rebelchild93 @nilalunis16​

#spock #spock x reader #spock x fem!reader #mister spock #mr spock #startrek #tos #pregnant reader #you guys I just got the second covid vaccine and my arm is killing me

[stolen-pen-name23]

Hey, I love your writing! How about "please talk to me" or "why don't you care?" with Obi-Wan and Anakin for the prompts?

Ahhh thank you so much!!! You're too sweet!

"Please talk to me" and "why don't you care" from these angst prompts. Note: I'm not going to close my inbox, but I'm going to be traveling for a few weeks so if you send me a request, I won't be able to get to it for a while. Plus, there are still quite a few prompts in my inbox I'm working on.

Anyway, here ya go!

---

Anakin hated it when Obi-Wan got like this.

Quiet.

He was never quiet, save in sleep or meditation — two thing he hadn’t been partaking in as much anymore. Any other time, he always had some observation or quippy remark to make. But not now. Now, he sat silently at the kitchen table, staring at his tea, lost in one thought or another.

Anakin knew that when Obi-Wan got quiet, something was wrong. Not that his stubborn old Master would ever express that outwardly. It drove Anakin mad.

Anakin slid into the chair across from Obi-Wan. “They’re going to ship us out again soon,” Anakin started.

Obi-Wan hummed.

“It feels like we just got back home.”

“I suppose it does.”

Anakin frowned. His attempts at conversation were not going well.

“Is something bothering you?” Anakin asked.

“It’s fine, Anakin.”

Anakin could feel frustration swelling up in his chest. What was bothering Obi-Wan? Was it something he did? Surely Obi-Wan would have told him if he did something to upset him. He had had no problem doing that in the past, but now… now tensions between them had become more taught. Anakin wasn’t sure if he was the problem.

“Are you mad at me?” Anakin asked tentatively, feeling like a youngling at the question.

“No.”

“Then what?”

“Just drop it, Anakin.”

“Please,” Anakin said. “Just talk to me, Obi-Wan. You know you can talk to me.”

“I am talking to you,” Obi-Wan said, lifting his gaze from the steaming mug in his hand to Anakin.

“Don’t be a smartass.”

“Fine. What do you want to talk about?” Obi-Wan relented.

“I want you to tell me what’s wrong.”

“Nothing is wrong.”

“I have a hard time believing that.”

“You can believe whatever you want to believe Anakin.”

“I believe something is wrong.”

“And you are free to do so.”

Anakin huffed. “Stop avoiding the question.”

“Stop asking,” Obi-Wan challenged.

Obi-Wan sipped at his tea and remained passive — the mask of indifference proving to Anakin that he felt anything but. Anakin’s pulse quickened and he felt heat crawling up his neck, reddening his skin.

“Stop trivializing this, Obi-Wan!” Anakin snapped.

“I’m not trivializing anything. There’s nothing to trivialize!”

“Force, why can’t you even pretend like you care about something for once? Do you just not care about anything? Is that it?”

Obi-Wan looked like he had been slapped across the face.

It was in that moment that Anakin realized that maybe he had gone too far this time – pushed a little too hard in an attempt to get a rise out of him.

“How could you say that? How could you think that of me?” Obi-Wan’s voice was low, almost threatening.

“Master I-”

“You presume that I do not feel things because I do not react the way you do to every tragedy that befalls me? You think I am but an emotionless droid wandering around the galaxy? You believe I feel nothing after… after everything? Do you truly believe this?”

“No, Master, I don’t believe that. I didn’t mean–”

Obi-Wan raised his hands. “Stop Anakin. I don’t want to hear it right now. I’m going to bed. You should too.”

Obi-Wan promptly stood up and retreated to his room without even a parting glance Anakin’s way.

Anakin would not be going to bed. At least not here. Why stay in a cramped apartment with his broody former Master when there was a senatorial apartment with a warm bed and someone who was definitely not broody lying in it?

“I’m headed to your place,” Anakin said into his comm.

“I thought you were staying at the temple tonight, Ani?” Padme replied.

“I changed my mind. I’d rather stay with you.”

“Alright,” Padme said softly. “Is everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine,” Anakin replied, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I just want to see you.”

“Alright, Ani. I’ll see you soon then.”

Anakin grabbed his robe and tore through the halls of the temple until he was spilling into the streets of Coruscant. Cold air nipped at his skin, but he didn’t care. His annoyance, his anger, kept him feeling warm.

He should probably take a speeder. It would be faster. But he needed to burn off some energy and a brisk walk through the smog-soaked streets promised some reprieve from the worst of his rage.

The sights, the sounds, the smells of Coruscant all flooded his senses. He did his best to filter it out and focus on his destination, but a storefront was playing the nightly news and the headline passed through his unstable filters.

“Next up on evening news: A planet in distress. It has been one year since the assassination of Duchess Satine Kryze of Mandalore.”

Anakin’s heart skipped a beat. He immediately backtracked and stood in front of the holo, unable to look away and unable to hear anything else but this.

“With the Death Watch regime now in power, will Mandalore finally take a side in the Clone War? Tune in tonight for predictions from our expert analyst.”

Anakin’s thoughts raced back to the argument he had with Obi-Wan not even an hour ago.

Every tragedy that befalls me.

One year.

Oh yeah, Anakin messed up.

He fumbled around for his comm and flipped it open. “Padme, I’m so sorry, I can’t come by anymore. I need to go home.”

“Are you alright?”

“I’m fine.”

“What’s wrong?” Padme asked suspiciously.

“Nothing. I just need to clear something up with Obi-Wan. That’s all.”

“What did you do this time?” she groaned.

“I’ll tell you about it later, I need to go.”

“Alright, love. I’ll talk to you soon.”

Anakin turned off his comm, turned on his heels, and ran.

He tore through the temple just as he had torn out of it. He ignored sideways glances and zeroed in on the pathway to their quarters. The door slid open at his command and he bounded over their threshold. Despite just covering a great distance to get here, the distance from the threshold to Obi-Wan’s room felt greater still. Still, he willed his legs, now tired from his sprint through Coruscant, to carry him to Obi-Wan’s room.

He did not bother knocking. If he did, Obi-Wan would refuse to see him and he needed to see him.

The room was cloaked in darkness, but city lights cascaded on Obi-Wan’s body through the window like artificial moonbeams. He was still as if in sleep, but his breathing was hitched and ragged and anything but restful.

“Obi-Wan?” Anakin asked cautiously.

“Not now, Anakin,” Obi-Wan muttered softly.

“No, I–” Anakin faltered. “You don’t have to talk to me. I came to apologize.”

“That’s not necessary.”

“It is.”

Anakin turned on a lamp and Obi-Wan squinted at the warm glow. His eyes, Anakin noticed, were red-rimmed and bloodshot. His hair was a mused and greasy mess.

“May I sit?” Anakin asked.

“If I tell you no, you will just sit anyway.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I know that more than anyone.”

“So can I sit?” Anakin asked, trying not to let impatience creep back in.

“Yes, Anakin,” Obi-Wan said. “You may sit.”

Obi-Wan pulled himself up into a sitting position and moved sideways, allowing Anakin to sit beside him.

“Anakin stop,” Obi-Wan said quickly before Anakin could get all the way on his bed.

“What?” Anakin asked worried Obi-Wan had suddenly changed his mind.

“Take your muddy boots off before you get in my bed. Force who raised you?”

Anakin let out a sharp laugh. He relaxed. If Obi-Wan could scold him like that, then what existed between them was not entirely broken.

“I hate to break it to you, Master,” Anakin said. “But you had a significant hand in my upbringing.”

“Where did I go wrong?” Obi-Wan said, his half-smile an olive branch.

“Don’t be so hard on yourself,” Anakin said. He pulled off his boots and settled in next to Obi-Wan. “You did okay.”

Obi-Wan’s half-smile lingered for a moment longer before fading away.

“Master, I–” Anakin started. He made himself gentler, softer, smaller — everything Obi-Wan needed him to be — everything he was not. “Master, I need to apologize. I shouldn’t have pushed you like that.”

“It’s fine, Anakin.”

“It’s not. I shouldn’t have pushed you and I shouldn’t have said what I said.”

Obi-Wan averted his gaze and remained silent.

“I know you care,” Anakin said earnestly. “I know you care about the Order. The war. Your men. I know you care about,” now Anakin’s breath shook. “I know you care about Ahsoka even though she’s gone. I know you care about me and… and I know you care about her.”

Obi-Wan remained silent for a while and Anakin fought the urge to ask him to say something. That’s how they ended up here in the first place.

“It’s been a year,” Obi-Wan said.

“I know,” Anakin said. “Well, I didn’t know, but I saw it on the news, and I… I’m so sorry.”

“It’s been a year and we’re still in this bloody war and she’s dead and he’s still…” alive.

Obi-Wan didn’t need to finish the sentence for Anakin to know what he meant. He blinked back tears, stubbornly refusing to let them fall.

Anakin sighed. “I’m sorry,” he repeated. The words felt lame and altogether too small to cover the true meaning behind them. But he was not Obi-Wan. He had no words of wisdom or comfort to offer — only apologies and quiet condolences.

“I know, Anakin.”

“Is there something I can do?” Anakin asked, feeling useless.

Obi-Wan finally turned to him, and Anakin could feel the loneliness, the sadness, the exhaustion rolling off of his former Master.

“You can stay.”

So he did.

#my writing #anakin and obi wan #thanks for the prompt! #prompt fill

[cjsinkythoughts]

FATWS One Shot #6 - No One Said Anything About a Metal Arm

Word Count: 2011

Warnings: Explosions, Gunshots, The Winter Soldier, Implied Death, Stevie Almost Crying

Setting/Characters: Towards the End of Captain America: The Winter Soldier; Reader, Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson, Natasha Romanoff, Maria Hill, Nick Fury, Bucky Barnes; Mentions of Alexander Pierce, Arnim Zola

A/N: This one took me a while to write and I’ll tell you why. Rewatching this movie made me want to do a complete rewrite of it. I had so many ideas of where the reader could be and why and what she was doing then and all that. But…I told myself this is a One Shot of her unofficially meeting Bucky for the first time. Which is why it seems incomplete - because it kinda is - it’s just that scene picked from the movie. Am I happy with it? Eh. Am I holding back from writing more parts and just saying “forget this piece, it never happened”? Maybe. But, I can’t. I wish I could. But if I were to rewrite this movie, I’d rewrite the next one. And the next one. And it would take me months to finish these. So…this is what you’re getting.

Also, NO ONE MENTION WHAT’S ABOUT TO HAPPEN IN A COUPLE HOURS! I’M THIS CLOSE TO FREAKING OUT!

Thanks! As always, it’s not beta’d, so please excuse mistakes! Enjoy reading, be kind to yourselves and others, and stay tuned!

FATWS Masterlist

cjsinkythoughts Masterlist

********

Sitting on the edge of the old dam was calming. Peaceful, even. The constant sound of the flowing water, the trees swaying in the slight breeze. It was nice to take a breath after everything that had gone down the past week.

To say you were worried was an understatement. The last time you saw Steve was the evening after you met Sam. He dropped you off at your place, refusing your invitation to stay saying that he should probably check on his apartment since he hadn’t been there in a while.

A lot had changed since then.

Steve was wanted by SHIELD, along with Natasha. Fury was considered dead, but was actually still kicking in the structure beneath your feet with the help of you and Hill. You had tried to go after Steve, but it was too risky. Pierce - who you were almost 100% certain was behind this whole thing - had been keeping a close eye on you since Steve ran away, knowing you’d be behind him. You tried to catch the blonde at the hospital, but you were seconds too late, meeting up with Natasha who told you STRIKE already took him away for questioning.

You had been called by Hill and she told you what had happened. Fury had asked for your help specifically, considering the amount of times you’d had to fake your own death while being undercover. And you’d been dealing with that ever since.

You had wanted to go get the three of them - you learned Sam joined Steve and Natasha, which somehow didn’t surprise you - but Hill refused, saying you needed to stay there just in case.

But Fury was fine, no one was coming, which is how you found yourself swinging your legs above a hundred feet of rushing water.

It didn’t last long. A car pulling up to the side entrance caught your eye and you immediately swung your legs around to rush towards the stairs. It’s not like you haven’t gone longer without seeing Steve before. You’d gone months without seeing him. It was your job. But this was different. Whether it was because for the first time he was the one who left or because he was on the run from the organization you worked for, you didn’t know and didn’t care. All you knew was you needed to see him. Make sure he was okay.

It took you a while to get there, all the stairs and corners and twist and turns. You got there just as Fury ended his explanation, hearing him tell the trio, “can’t kill you if you’re already dead. Besides…I wasn’t sure who to trust.”

Your footsteps were echoing and you were sure Steve heard you but when you entered the room, his eyebrows shot up, his eyes widening. “Honey?”

“Oh thank fucking God.” You breathed out, jogging over to squeeze him tightly. 

“Y/N…” He murmured in your hair, hugging you tightly back. “What happened? Why are you here?”

Pulling back, you jerked your thumb over your shoulder to the director. “I’m saving his ass.” Your finger then jabbed into his firm chest, your lips falling into a frown. “And worrying about yours. Are you okay?”

“I am. Natasha got shot, but she’ll live.”

You looked over at Natasha, who nodded in confirmation, before looking back into those azure eyes of Steve’s. “What happened? Pierce is keeping a tight lid on everything. I was gonna come find you, but I couldn’t because he was watching me. It’s a miracle I got away from them to help Nicky boy. I haven’t gone out since. But, honest, I was gonna-”

“Honey, honey. You’re rambling again.” Steve chuckled, hand resting on the back of your head, fingers tangling in your hair. “It’s okay. I’m glad you’ve been safe here. Pierce is behind this whole thing-”

“Yeah, I figured that-”

“-It’s HYDRA, Y/N.”

You froze. “What? HYDRA? Whaddya mean?”

Steve nodded. “HYDRA’s what’s been infiltrating SHIELD. It’s a long story, but Zola continued it when he was hired for-”

“Operation Paperclip. Yeah, I remember learning about that.” You ran a hand over your face. “Okay…” You hummed, looking at the three of them. “Let’s…talk about it more in a little bit. I know we gotta act soon, but Natasha and Fury need to heal a little bit longer and you should get some rest. You look tired.”

Everyone seemed to agree with your statement, starting to disperse from the room. You started walking out, too, when Steve grabbed your bicep and pulled you aside, down the hall a ways away. You opened your mouth, only for him to pull you into his chest.

“I’m really glad you’re okay.”

You nodded, lightly scratching his back, your arms around his slim waist. “I’m glad you are too.” You could feel how tense he was, which was understandable considering what he’d gone through the past couple days. But there was something else. Something in the grip he had on your shirt. The way his heart was hammering against your chest. His erratic breathing and his ducked head. You pulled away to catch his jaw between your fingers, eyes scanning the anguish in his own. “Bubba? What’s wrong?”

It took a moment for him to answer, his eyes growing sadder with every second that passed. “It was Bucky.”

“What?” You felt like the air was knocked out of you. “What do you mean?”

“The Winter Soldier. The assassin who shot Fury. The one who tried killing us on the bridge. It was Bucky. It is Bucky. I saw him, Y/N. I saw his face. It’s him. He survived. When they experimented on him, it must’ve…God, I’m so…I didn’t even notice…I didn’t even check…I left him…” he shook his head, which fell to your shoulder. “Stupid. I’m so stupid.”

“No, no.” You shook your head quickly, fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck as you twisted to kiss the hinge of his tense jaw. “It wasn’t your fault, Steve.” You mumbled softly, lips brushing over the shell of his ear. “It wasn’t your fault. You couldn’t have known. He fell thousands of feet, Stevie. You wouldn’t have found him even if you did.”

HIs grip on your hips tightened. “But I didn’t even try.” His voice broke on that last word. “And how could I not notice something going on with him? There were two years between being experimented on and falling. How-?” Voice catching in his throat, he stopped talking to stop himself from crying. You knew he hated crying.

“You can’t do anything about past Bucky.” You reminded him gently. “But you can help him now.”

“He didn’t even remember me.”

“Then make him.”

********************

To say you were pissed was an understatement. “I’ve been doing undercover stuff for years! This is a piece of cake!”

Steve shook his head. “You’ll be more helpful with Hill. You know more about Project Insight than me, Sam, and Natasha.”

“Bullshit, Steven! You just don’t want-”

“Honey, please.”

You clenched your jaw, glaring at him as he gave you those fucking puppy eyes, his dumb pink lips stuck in a pout. Letting out a rather aggressive puff of air, you looked away. “Fine. But I hate you.”

He beamed and nodded. “I can live with that.”

“Okay.” You glanced at the others. “You all ready?”

“Let’s get these sons of bitches.” Sam stated, making the final adjustments to the wings.

Natasha gave a smirk. “As long as you are.”

Turning back to Steve, you raised an eyebrow, waiting for the captain’s orders. He nodded. “Let’s head out.”

****************

“There’s a problem on the flight deck.” Hill informed you, looking at the alert. 

“Alright. I’ll-”

“Stay with Hill!”

You rolled your eyes at Steve’s voice through the comms. “Sorry, Cap. You’re breaking up.”

“I know I’m not, Y/N! I’m serious! Stay there!”

But you were already moving towards the flight deck. “I’m not gonna sit on my ass here, Rogers! Hill’s got it covered! I’m just gonna go check it out!”

“Honey-!”

“Bubba!”

The line went quiet and for a moment you thought you lost connection. “Please stay safe.”

You let out a sigh at his quiet pleads, nodding even though he couldn’t see you. “That goes for you, too, Steve.”

By the time you got out there, most of the jets were in flames, pilots and crew members scattered around the deck. You scanned the wreckage, trying to find the source-

A gunshot made your head whip to the side. Found it. Or, more accurately, him.

He was standing on top of one of the jets, gun pointed down at the pilot that was sitting in it. Before he could slip in the cockpit, though, you took out your gun and fired at him. Even though you knew who he was, when he looked at you it made your blood run cold. It was confirmation - not that you didn’t trust Steve - but still. Seeing is believing. yet seeing the same eyes you’d seen sparkling up at you from pictures now staring you down, void of any emotion? It was hard to believe it was the same person.

“Oh shit. Bubs?”

“What?! What’s wrong?! Are you okay?!”

You took a couple steps back as the Winter Soldier, no. Bucky - Steve’s Bucky - strode towards you. “Uh…nothing, nothing. I just I, uh, found your Bucky.”

“Y/N, get outta there now! I told you to stay with Hill!”

“Fuck!” You dove out of the way as the assassin started shooting at you. “Now’s not the time for reprimanding, Steven!”

You tuned out his cursings so as to not get distracted when you became engaged in a hand-to-hand fight with the fucking Winter Soldier.

“Hi.” You grunted, ducking under his arm and throwing a kick at him, faking it at the last second. Except, he’d already grabbed your ankle. But you did kick him with your other foot. But…he didn’t really move and it made you fall back, so…fail. You let out a grimace when the wind was knocked out of you, but you couldn’t lay there for long as he moved to slam his foot down. You rolled out of the way, swinging your legs up to hit him in the back of the knee. “Nice to finally meet you.”

He growled as Sam exclaimed, “are you seriously chatting with him?”

“It’s mostly one sided - dammit!” The both of you had gotten on your feet again, and you tried hooking your left knee around his left shoulder to tug him down, but he had slammed you against a jet, your leg stretched in a very uncomfortable position as your free foot stood on your toes. He had his metal arm - which no one had informed you about and you were kinda salty about it - against your throat, his other hand coming up in a fist.

Bouncing on your toes a bit, you finally lifted your free leg up to knee him in the side of his face, making you wince slightly at the stretch and the burn in your left thigh, which was the only thing besides his metallic limb holding you up against the jet.

He stumbled to the side, throwing you by the leg on his shoulder. You went sprawling against the pavement, a hiss leaving your lips at the serious roadburn you no doubt just got. Sitting up quickly, not wanting him to get the upper hand, you let out a breath seeing him swiftly moving into the cockpit of the jet he just had you pinned against.

“Guys…he’s…heading your way…just a…heads up. Also…thank you. It was nice…to fucking know…about the metal arm…beforehand. I’m just gonna…rest here for a minute…”

“You’re not hurt too bad, are you?”

“No, Cap. No, just…gonna be aching for a while. Ugh…” Begrudgingly, you got up to your feet. “I think I’m gonna…go back and chill with Maria.”

“Told you so.”

“Shut up, finish your job, and don’t die, Rogers! And next time, please, for the love of God, mention the metal arm!”

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[nevertheless-moving]

Suicidal Misunderstanding XIII

Part I - - - - - - Part II - - - - - - - - - - - -  Part XI - - - - - - Part XII

Star Wars Time Travel AU #27

Cody waited impatiently in the entrance room to the hall of healing, ignoring the surprising number of Jedi who drifted by aimlessly. 

As far as he could tell they were coming in just to stare at him, make meaningless small chat with the tight lipped receptionist, glance around, approach as if almost to talk with him, then drift out again without having accomplished anything.

Embarrassingly, it took him several minutes to realize why they were behaving so oddly. In his defense, a) he didn’t have much of a baseline for Jedi behavior in temple. 

And b) when numerous vod had approached him today to try and find out ‘why the General had missed last night’s conference,’ and ‘why Cody had been unreachable for large chunks of time, that was seriously unlike him,’ and ‘why had Cody gone to the Jedi Temple and stayed there for hours upon hours yesterday morning,’ and ‘why haven’t you taken your bucket off today,’ and ‘why has no one gotten a comm reply from General Kenobi since Ghost Company went drinking,’ and ‘why isn’t Skywalker answering comms,’ and ‘why do the Jedi seem so riled up today,’ and ‘why are you and Rex so tense,’ and, ‘are you going to the temple now,’ and ‘what the kriff happened to my desk,’ well.

They just asked directly.

He had grown so inured to unfamiliar Jedi silently willing him to answer their own jedi-variations on ‘What the fuck is going on with Obi-Wan’ that he almost didn’t notice when Windu came to stand next to him. 

“Here as a visitor?” He asked the Master stiffly. He was almost feeling wound-up enough to fight for his place in line. 

“No, I’m waiting to speak with Skywalker,” he replied, temporarily placating the Commander.

An unfamiliar Jedi Cadet with a short braid on the side of their head walked in, attempting to look casual and failing miserably. The small furred padawan stared nervously at Cody and Mace, and actually managed to open their mouth. Windu raised a brow. They immediately snapped their jaw shut, bowed, and scurried out. 

Cody watched through the window as they joined a group of even tinier Jedi. After a brief conversation with lots of waving limbs from all parties, the group turned in unison to make eye contact with Cody’s visor. Cody inclined his head slightly. They all ran off, practically tripping over their robes.

“Wasn’t sure if the eyebrow would work,” Mace muttered. “It’s been 50/50 today.”

“I’ve just been hiding whenever I can,” Cody confessed.

Mace winced. “My apologies for the delay in putting out a statement. We’re still trying to work out - an adequate substitute. At least for the upcoming campaign.”

Cody nodded, “I assumed as much."

“I assure you, we’ve taken your thoughts into consideration. You’ll receive a notice of the Council’s final decision before we send out a mass bulletin.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Fortunately, finally, Anakin stomped into the atrium, followed closely behind by the Nautolan soul healer. 

“Ah, Knight Skywalker, do you have a moment? I’d like to have a word with you.” 

Anakin startled at Mace’s words, but recovered quickly when he noticed the slow moving crowd just outside the door. “Of course, Master Windu,” he said with a bow.

“Commander Cody, would you care to follow me?” Aerdo said with a smile.

Cody and Anakin exchanged grim nods as they passed one another, following the Masters in opposite directions.

- - - - -

- - - - -

“The situation in the expansion region is deteriorating rapidly. We had already intended to send the 212th to moderate the situation after Umbara’s latest declaration. But increasing separatist activity in the sector means that we cannot afford to delay or under-commit. The hyperlanes are being taken, and with them, republic control over crucial supply lines is now threatened. We must deploy the third system army, the day after tomorrow at the very latest. They’re our best equipped force for the situation, not to mention the only uncommitted division large enough to make a meaningful impact. There is no viable alternative.”

Anakin nodded at Mace uncertainly. He had been keeping up with troop movements before everything, and, trying to keep himself sane, had even checked the news in between cutting off the Chancellor and visiting Obi-Wan only to find him unresponsive again. But...why exactly was the Master of the Order telling him this?

“You’re not seriously thinking of sending Obi-Wan? I mean even if he miraculously wakes up tomorrow...”

Master Windu sighed. “No, of course not. Which is why I’ve asked you here.”

“You...can’t be asking me to lead them?” Anakin asked, feeling lightheaded.

“I admit, the council did consider it. You are the one of our most successful Generals. Not to mention the one most familiar with Obi-Wan’s troops. Between the fact that the 501st is also needed on Umbara and every other Jedi’s unwillingness to step in to the position, your name came up multiple times.” Mace pinched the bridge of his nose while Anakin stared uncertainly.

“No, I have not brought you here for a promotion. I want to speak with you about your opinions on candidates for the 212th...as well as to ask if you believe yourself capable of leading the 501st without...losing yourself. I’ve finished reviewing your civilian casualties and consider your observed losses- tolerable, at least.”

Windu looked exhausted at having to say that out-loud and Anakin fidgeted, biting his tongue.

“As long as you are under the supervision of another Master, and if you swear to me on Obi-Wan’s life that you will report yourself if you find yourself slipping- I leave the command of the 501st up to you.”

Anakin felt queasy. How could he help Obi-Wan if he was half a galaxy away, on what sounded like a long, protracted campaign. If he refused to go, that would leave both the 501st and the the 212th without their generals. Or...was this how he could help? Carry one of his burdens for him? He was more than ready to lead! Probably! He had been leading! Part of him longed to charge into battle immediately- wash off his helplessness with blood. Anakin didn’t know how to fix Obi-Wan mind, but he was good at fighting, good at war.

And that thought brought back the ever-lingering cold. How could he trust himself? His...violence... it might have driven Obi-Wan to suicide. He still didn’t know! And if he left he wouldn’t know for months! He promised Obi-Wan not to kill again- how the kark was he supposed to do that while being a General?! Did ordering people to kill count, or was that worse?

“I need to think about the 501st ,” Anakin whispered.

Master Windu nodded. “I appreciate that. You have until dawn tomorrow to decide- in the mean time, let’s discuss the 212th.”

“Who’s the top choice?”

“Master Pong Krell. He’s actually our only choice that wouldn’t require reorganizing other assignments significantly.”

“He’s...a good duelist.” Anakin said, trying to think about what he knew of the Besalisk, “What division does he command?”

Windu grimaced. “That’s actually why he’s the best choice... Of the troops he’s had direct command over since the start of the war, over 85% are dead. He’s never lost a battle but...”

Anakin closed his eyes, “Right.”

Plenty of excellent fighters among the Jedi made terrible generals. He’d have to look over the Besalisk’s military record- it could just be terrible luck. Plo Koon had lost an entire division to the Malevolence, but he still was one of the best.

“When you say he’s the only choice...”

“Most Masters I’ve breached the subject with were extremely reluctant at the thought- I don’t want to force anyone into a position beyond what they’re willing to handle.”

“I guess that makes sense...but it seems...off?” Anakin trying to articulate his uneasiness.

“Our method of ‘promotion’ has a tendency to elevate those who should perhaps not be taking on more responsibilities.” Mace acknowledged grimly.

“Because... good Jedi aren’t really ok with war. And you’re only promoting Generals who are fine with the whole thing?” he said thinking of himself. “Or can’t say no?” he added bitterly, thinking of Obi-Wan.

“It’s not an ideal situation” Mace agreed, lines around his eyes growing.

Anakin scrubbed a hand to his face. He had been doing more thinking about the ‘concept’ of war and violence in the last two days than he had the last two years of actual fighting. There hadn’t been much point before, war was happening regardless of his feelings. Not to mention the fact that there wasn’t time to quibble over these sorts of things in the field. As much as he was desperate not to disappoint Obi-Wan again, he didn’t really enjoying being forced to consider this stuff now. It made him...itchy.

“Have you considered just putting Cody in charge of everything?” Anakin finally asked.

“Of course, but the Senate would never approve...”

- - - - -

- - - - -

- - - - -

“...With those few exceptions, the only major thing left to restock is perishables. But that’s more your department than mine, sir.” 

Cody finished his report. 

Obi-Wan continued to lay still, looking frail in the large medi-bed. The restraints made the image that much worse.

“Fuck.” 

Cody swore and, for the first time since crawling out of bed that morning, yanked off his helmet.

“General. General Kenobi. Obi-Wan can you hear me.” he said hoarsely, leaning over the bed.

The General didn’t move.

“Obi-Wan if you can hear me- try and shift around a little bit. Blink. Do anything. It’s me- Commander Cody. I- please, sir. Just do anything, they said you- you did this on purpose so please confirm you’re in there. I’m- shipping off soon and, I- I just need to know that you’re going to be ok. Please. Anything.”

Cody hovered absolutely motionless, watching for any sign of response. But Obi-Wan continued as he had been, lifeless but for his slow and steady breaths. 

Cody collapsed to his knees, vision spotty. Gasping for air, he rested his head on the side of the bed, desperately trying to pull himself together. 

After several long moments he pulled of a glove, tentatively reaching for Obi-Wan’s hand. It felt cold.

“General, if this is some sort of- dark force attack twitch your hand, ok? Please. We’re trying to understand- we’re here for you, just clench your hand if you’re under attack and someone will come to help.”

Cody paced his breaths to Obi-Wan’s, pulse slowing down to match the wrist in his grasp.

“Obi-Wan, why are you doing this? I don’t understand.” Cody rasped. 

“You- you told me I was one of your best friends. You- I don’t know why you think so highly of me but please you have to know I think the universe of you. We all do, but I really do. You don’t have to fight anymore if you don’t want to, we’ll protect you, you know that. You have to know that. But I can’t- I can’t imagine the rest of the war without knowing you’re alright somewhere.”

Cody pressed Obi-Wan’s hand to his forehead, choking back a sob.

“You said you had a ‘last mission.‘ I don’t know what that means. You’ve talked about after the war- I don’t get why your life has to end with a mission. I'm not sure if I understood anything you said, but I’m right here and I would never hurt you. I don’t know what you saw but I would die first, ok? I want you to know that I would gladly die before hurting you so- so you don’t have to worry about whatever vision you had. Just wake up and tell me what I have to do and I’ll do it.”

Cody sat on the floor, clinging to Obi-Wan’s hand and continuing to breathe. 

Eventually, the door clicked open behind him. 

“Commander Cody? I’m terribly sorry but it’s been an hour...” Healer Aerdo’s voice came trickling in.

“I understand- is there time for me to say goodbye?” Cody rasped, not looking back. 

“Of course.” 

The door clicked shut and Cody stood jerkily.

“Goodbye, General Kenobi. Obi-Wan. I’ll take care of the men for you while you’re- resting. Please, I know I say this a lot but take care of yourself, ok?”

Cody pressed Obi-Wan’s hand to his forehead one last time before reverently resting it on the bed. Pulling his helmet on roughly, he turned sharply and marched out the door. 

Obi-Wan remained determinedly still.

Next: XIV

#star wars #my au #suicidal misunderstanding au #star wars au no 27 #potentially triggering #suicide discussed #self-harm referenced #starwars #made myself cry a little whoops #fanfiction #codywan #star wars fanfiction #angst #pong krell is his own warning