#BUT IVE GOT. COMMS I NEED TO FINISH FIRST

[hispanicin]

Good omens has such au for ur blorbos potential

[astranite]

WIP Honestly-Ive-Lost-Track-of-the-passage-of-linear-time Day

I havent done one of these for a while!! Or finished many or any writing things though ive been making progress on and started many. But have some Scott and John, and John and Virgil!

---

Then there was Scott, rapping on the door to make sure John hadn't fallen over and cracked his skull open. Or in thoughts rather kinder to them both, bringing him his toothbrush and checking he was okay. Big brother smotherhen. An echo of fondness washed over John.

They brushed their teeth together; Scott’s brush was blue and John’s fluorescent orange because that was the system. Scott danced from foot to foot, unable to stay still, and John discovered Scott hadn't grown out of stopping every five seconds to say something through a mouthful of bubbles. He changed topics mid-sentence and jumped between ideas happily. It was good to see Scott being, well Scott. John listened, occasionally answering back with a remark or other as he sat on the edge of the bath, an arm wrapped around a grab bar to keep himself steady.

That part was remarkably similar to being up on Five, though the need to hold on was from too much gravity rather than the lack thereof. And except in space he’d calibrated himself by experience until the lightest touch would suffice. A death grip on the bars was the giveaway of new, barely qualified astronauts. He shook himself, to change the track of his thoughts to not rip up the piece of comfort he could find in the familiar patterns.

Up there, he’d gaze at the stars outside and carry on a conversation with Eos. He half laughed at the memory of the first time she’d seen him cleaning his teeth and demanded to inspect his mouth technically-not-bones-but-John-why-aren’t-they-bones out of curiosity. He relayed it to Scott and got to watch sensible commander big brother try not to snort toothpaste out of his nose. 

---

"You think you're hiding it, but I can see that limp from space."

Virgil leaned closer to his comm, giving John a prime view of dark, angular done-with-this-shit eyebrows.

John definitely didn’t panic. He just didn’t want the totally needless scrutiny of a medic brother all up in his business. Or asking questions like, ‘What did you do to yourself this time?’

“What limp?” He replied. He could play it off as obtuse and then no one had to ever to find out. 

Virgil gave a Scott-worthy facepalm. “Do I have to worry about a concussion too?”

Okay maybe that was too obtuse. But he was running on few hours of sleep, back to back rescues and no bloody breakfast so who could blame him. 

“I’m fine, Virgil.” John rolled his eyes. 

Virgil didn’t dignify that with a response. 

Well then, John could prove it. Ignoring the ache in his left foot and that the last time he tried this was probably what had gotten Virgil’s suspicions on him in the first place, he twisted through the central hub of Five to the entry to the gravity ring. 

Lowering himself carefully in what was usually a thoughtlessly graceful manoeuvre, he landed on his feet in the grav ring, a triumphant, “See, I’m perfectly fine,” already on his lips. Except as soon as his left foot touched the ground with his weight on it, a sharp stab shot through it.

He couldn’t hold back the painfully obvious wince. Or the sudden gasp. 

[osarina]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY to the person whose vibe LITERALLY. encapsulates what hozier writes songs ABOUT <3 (IN THE BEST WAY) !! & DAZAI’S GIRL OFCC; miss carina i hope you’ve had the MOST fantastic day already & this year ‘n on treats you SO SO WELL 🫂🖤 truly u’ve shaken the bsd fandom on here w ur writing & in general such a wonderful person, ENJOY EVERYTHING TONS, fyodor & i showed up w/ the presents to spoil u 🙂‍↕️ (he is forced to pay back what he owed both u & dazai) & i’m giving you another pair of pearl earrings BCZ LOL WE R literally twinning rn i only wear those too !!

if it’s not too much pls do give a little synopsis/scenario excerpt to the BIRTHDAY COMM bcz i am still in awe glancing at it HAHAHAHA

finally, the next time i’ll pop in your inbox i’ll b there to finally express completing waterloo !! srry i am so behind on the bandwagon but it’s only bcz i have put off completing the actual BSD BEAST 😞 i paused halfway thru so i wouldn’t b spoiled, i shall get the courage to do both tho JDJSJ for u; you will get an entire essay no doubt

& GOODLUCK IN UNI SOON TOO !! i start for the first time as well rly soon so i’m hoping this year treats us well & perhaps a lanky brunette man comes along (forces himself into our life) in need of saving on a stormy day ;) LOVE YOU RINA HAPPY BIRTHDAY AGAIN !! ᰔ

REV I'M SIMPLY GOING TO CRY YOU'RE THE SWEETEST EVER, YOU LITERALLY HAVE ME SMILING SO BIG AND MY CHEST FEELS ALL WARM AND FUZZY I LOVE U SM <3333

im giggling imagining fyodor and dazai side-eyeing each other while we sit together chatting, we would both have to keep them in line so they don't start acting up. AND OMGGGG YOU'RE ALSO A PEARL GIRLIE??? i got my first pair from my grandma and ive been obsessed with them since jdfasuhfasfhu i love pearl jewelry

HAHAHAHAHH THE BDAY COMM IM STILL GIGGLING OVER IT - so its set in my pm au actually ihfsuihfauhduf the one ive been writing for a while on here (wykyk) except that i hc that its like a non-canon one where oda didn't die and dazai never left the pm. so dazai & i were pining for like literally 3 years since we were sixteen and then not long before my 19th bday, we finally officially got together. and chuuya was SOOOO sick of it like he's been dealing with both of our dumbasses for 3 years refusing to get together but still blatantly pining for each other. so when we finally got together, he's like UGH finally, but then he realizes that it's worse because we're even MORE insufferable now that we're together. so the comm is set during my 19th bday we're going out for the night and dazai is being dazai and chuuya is SOOOO sick of it but this is the one night he can't say anything so he's just forced to sit there and deal with it LOLLLLL

OMGGGGGG I'M SO EXCITED FOR YOU TO FINISH BEAST AND UU!!!!! i dont blame you for putting it off HAHAHHH the end is so heartwrenching like literally whenever i feel like i need a good cry, i go back to reread beast HAHAHH

AHHHHHH OMG YOU'RE STARTING YOUR FIRST YEAR OF UNI??? THAT'S SO EXCITING!!!! good luck sweet rev, i know you're going to kill it!! if you ever need advice or to just vent about uni, my inbox is always open, i get it 100% - uni can be so stressful but at the same time it's so nice. im dreading my classes starting up again but ive missed everyone there so it will be nice to see them again

THANK YOU AGAIN LOVELY <333 I ADORE YOU

[seldomscilence16]

Whumptober day 30:

"It's okay just to say 'I'm not okay'."

Borrowed Clothing | Bridal Carry | "Not much Longer…."

Fandom: Bat Family

Prompts used: All

Ive been reading dpxdc but am not confident yet, so heres some OOC Bats, based mostly on Wayne Family Adventures, tried angsting some new people for once! I have only read Duke in WFA so hes probably the most OOC forgive me. But let me know, Id love to hear from ya'll on any of my posts :)

TW for blood and injuries, near death experiences

…

"I am never letting you talk me into this again."

Tim glares at the far wall, hanging by his feet, arms tied to his chest. He's in civvies, and his brothers WILL owe him a new outfit after this.

"Oh come on, you were the perfect bait!" Jason's voice comes through the comm, barely holding back his snickers.

"Hush Little-Wing. I'll take you to your favorite coffee place- at a reasonable time- to make up for it BabyBird." Dicks voice is far more sympathetic and even tinged with the anxiety that comes with seeing his brothers in harm's way.

"Then Jay owes me a new outfit." He murmurs a tad petulantly.

"TT, I still think we should have snuck in instead of this, convoluted, plan."

"That would have been fine if we had known where they were located, hence this plan." Duke yawns as he finishes his sentence, pulling a double shift for this case.

"Next time, someone else can be the hostage." Tim grumbles as a headache grows with all the blood rushing to it.

"Whatever you say Timmy." Jason placates mockingly.

"Is anyone else concerned about how long they've left Red Robin alone?" Barbara's exasperated voice comes through the comms, bringing everyone back.

"The lack of blood in my legs should definitely be considered." Tim comments, swinging slightly to try and look around.

"Well, it looks like everyone is-"

"Leaving the building!" Duke cuts Dick off, Jason curses,

"Looks like we got some rats to catch!" He calls, leaping from his hiding spot before the others could react.

"Hang in there Tim, we'll be back!"

"I regret my existence."

"TT is that all?" Damian is a millisecond behind Jason, Dick and Duke give each other an eye roll of comradery, before they are following.

They put up a fight. Seemingly desperate to escape- though it's not super odd- they seem more scared of not being able to leave than of the Bats themselves.

"Not much longer…" The anxious mutter comes from the goon closest to Signal.

He’s quick to pin him, nerves flying in his gut, telling him that they were missing something important.

“Until what?” He pulls his best Batman voice, tired gravel helping him hopefully.

Pinned against the building, Signal doesn’t really need an answer from the goon, the light gives him a glimpse of exactly what he needs to know, but the answer comes anyway,

“B-bomb...”

“Guys, we’ve got a situation! I’m going in for T- the hostage!” Duke catches himself throwing the guy to the nearest Bat, “Find the bomb!” He dashes into the building.

“A bomb?” Tims voice groans, “I am owed several coffees, thank you.”

“Maybe focus on not blowing up first?” Duke's voice is strained, not yet so nonchalant with these types of threats.

“The goons are ready for transport, we’re headed to the device, just stay calm Duke.” Dicks voice is level, and Duke takes a breath to match it.

Tim is partway untied, having been working on it since he’d been hooked, his face is flushed but he gives a lopsided grin- likely to comfort Duke.

“Signal, my man, come to hang out?”

“Har har, let's get you down.”

He steadies him as his feet touch the ground, head spinning and body reorienting, they haven’t even taken a step yet when the whole building shakes, rickety floors and creaky walls groaning with the effort.

“Uh, guys?” Duke cautions, worry skyrocketing again.

“Time to move!”

Duke doesn't need to be told twice, he scoops Tim into his arms with a grunt and finds himself sprinting once more.

“Blushing bride was not on my list.” He mumbles, hand holding his head as the other tires to keep him stable.

“Don't worry, sure it doesn't count when the blood had no other option.”

“You’d be surprised.”

The floor is crumbling as another tremor wracks the old bones of the place. He makes the decision to find the nearest window, taking the Bat route out, and sending a prayer to whoever listened that they all made it out.

“You’re ok… ‘s good…” Blood is a second skin, Jason's jacket torn to shreds as glass and wood alike protrude from his body.

“Todd.. you're…” Damian looks up at the unhooded vigilante, minor damage to himself as he see the crushing weight his brother keeps off him.

“Relax kid… Won't die frem the same ting twice.”

“Jay! Damian!” Dick coughs, the bloody hero shoving at the beams across Jays back until the two can get free. “Are you guys okay?”

“S’fine, lets get baby brat outta here.” The slur comes and goes from his tone, whether from a given effort or otherwise they can't tell. Shifting nearby has them tensing, before a light shines at them,

“Oh thank the Gods.” Duke is dusty but unharmed, moving debris ever so carefully to give them a path out.

“M’place s’closest.” Jason murmurs, leaning heavily on Damian who hadnt moved from his side.

“I can not carry you Todd, stay awake.” The youngest mutters despite his stance.

“M-“

“It's okay just to say ‘I’m not okay’.” Duke interrupts quickly, taking the lead as Dick takes the rear.

“...could be better.” He concedes.

“You are not this much bigger than me. How?” Tim swims in the borrowed shirt and sweats, as does Damian, but neither seems keen to take them off either as they plop onto Jason's couch.

In the kitchen, Duke, Jason and Dick patch each other up carefully, channeling Alfred as best they can until they decide the trip is worth it. Jason grits his teeth as another stitch pierces his skin, Dick muttering a thousand quiet apologies in several languages. Duke keeps his eyes on his own job, if for nothing else than to keep from cringing and hurting Dick.

“We’re bringing the girls next time. This never happens when they're around.” Tim grumbles, ice pack on his face.

“I beg to differ.” Dick mutters.

“Is night shift always like this?” Duke ties off his last bandage and goes about cleaning up.

“Meh.” He gets several, so so hand gestures and a tutt and groans to himself.

“We’re alive, goons apprehended, I'm calling it a win.”

[moreaujeans]

hi leigh!! i hope you're well :) saw your post with asks and decided i would combine lots of them lol so first thing is tell me abt whatever's bothering you!! i hope nothing's bothering you obv but still.

also i am asking you for book recs. i haven't been reading a lot of proper books lately so any recs are welcome but i kind of feel like some fantasy would do me good. but like good ones? The last couple of years i've been picking up some popular fantasy standalones hoping they feel like a fantasy book you read when you're twelve and they end up being the most mid thing i've ever read. like help. i'm planning to read some robin hobb books so hopefully they're good.

also i've started listening to mitski (talk about being late lol) and i'm really liking her songs i was wondering if you have any particular recs? Or any music recs? what've you been listening to?

sorry this ask is all over the place lol i guess i'm chatty today. i hope you're having an amazing day!! <3<333

ORLA!!!! i hope you are doing well too <3 one thing that is bothering me is school is starting again bc i have gotten virtually no break </3 also that apparently the english class i’m taking doesn’t have any required books i was looking forward to reading actual books not whatever mini readings ig they’re going to be giving us instead ☹️ also also that i did Not in fact get my license like planned this summer bc during the singular week i was home a bunch of stuff suddenly came up and it became no longer my priority and now i will need to renew my permit Again bc it expires in early september and im not going to be able to make it home before that so. <3

as for book recs!! i have tragically had the same problem lately re fantasy books and honestly mostly just books in general BUT i don’t know if you’ve read any ve schwab ive really loved what books of hers ive read. vicious was my favorite, but the monsters of verity duology better fits the “feels like a fantasy book you read when you’re twelve” vibe!

for non-fantasy recs if youre feeling poetry i reallyy liked margaret atwood’s morning in the burned house. also just finished hitchhiker’s guide to the galaxy which was v fun! got many laughs out of me, i did not however know before starting it that it’s a series so now idk how to proceed bc i only have the first book agdjfk

OH ALSO fantasy shoutout to strange the dreamer duology 🫶🏻🫶🏻 lovely writing style and world, fascinating antagonist, i was not a big fan of the romance but otherwise big rec on that. definitely not for everyone tho some ppl find the pacing too slow, i remember when i first read it i mentioned that in my review too that it took a bit for me to really get into although i personally wasn’t bored in the meantime like others, i was just chilling enjoying what it had to tell me abt everything

MITSKI RECS!! i love strawberry blond sorry for being basic. square too but specifically square solo piano version which they took off of spotify (idk what you’re listening to her on). because dreaming costs money my dear is also a veryyy hard-hitting one. fond of circle, a burning hill, goodbye my danish sweetheart, nobody, washing machine heart, and class of 2013 as well. that was a lot i will stop now 🫡 also must admit i am quite behind on mitski’s recent releases so i can’t speak for any of her newer albums/songs. except for working for the knife musically it doesn’t hit as much as other songs of hers for me but lyrically it makes me go crazy

as for random music recs my most recently liked songs are unsweetened lemonade by amélie farren, army dreamers by kate bush, numb little bug by em beihold, would that i by hozier, the milk carton by madilyn mei, and comme des enfants by cœur de pirate. i have not really been “listening” listening to anything lately! though that will change in a few days with wisdom saga >:)

— sleepover saturday sunday!

[aesethewitch]

hello!! first off id like to say thank you for doing free tarot fridays, it's a really nice and helpful thing, and I'm glad you're doing better this week than you were last friday! id like to request a reading, and i hope this isn't too vague, im just not really comfortable writing it all out directly. to summarize, i have been going through a really emotionally difficult and complicated situation for several months, and just recently i finally got some good news. ive been holding out hope that this situation won't last forever and will be on its way toward ending soon, and this news is pretty much the big first step toward that happening. but the road ahead is potentially still very complicated, and im not entirely certain whether it will be a smooth resolution or not. so my question is, what do i need to focus on doing right now to help this situation come to a good conclusion for me?

thank you very much, i hope you have a lovely week ahead ✨

Hello! Sounds complicated, indeed. I'll do my best!

For you, I drew the Queen of Wands.

This Queen is an independent, powerful figure. Harnessing the resources at your fingertips is going to be critical to ensuring a smooth finish to this whole situation. I often find this Queen in the company of many loyal followers -- friends, family, associates, and so forth. People ready and willing to work with and for the Queen, because she is loyal to them. They're reliable. No matter how bumpy things get, keep your eyes on the prize. Stay organized. Take control and take action when you need to, and remember always that you will come out the other side no matter what.

For a free one-card pull today, read the rules and send an ask. Enjoy your free pull or my other work? Tip me here. Want a guaranteed reading? More cards? In-depth analysis? Commission me here. Use the coupon QUEERPRIDE2024-COMMS for 15% off your reading.

[morethanmeetstheass]

Not a day goes by I don't want to commission you so bad but you've only Just returned and I do not want to tempt fate by even asking you but GOD is it good to see you back especially just to know you're still kicking I enjoy you as a person first and a hand in hand fan of the robots second

this is SO SWEET thank you so so much!!!

if ur interested in a drawing commission, ill need to so some practice pieces first bc i havent used my mecha-drawing muscles in a HOT minute-- tho i have been doing other artwork, and ive learned a lot of new techniques, so my art is prolly gonna be better than ever. prepare for knightverse blitzbee art soon bc if i dont draw knightverse soon, i will combust

as for writing comms, i need to finish kein weg zuruck first, which should take a while since ive still got a pretty hefty chunk of chapters left, and they are NOT short. im hoping to have the next chapter up next week, and then release weekly until its done. (then i wanna write a knightverse blitzbee fic but its gonna be immensely sad so idk if ill post it or just write a few scenes self-indulgently lmao)

but yes, comms will open up again, maybe in a couple weeks or a month or so. i just wanna stretch my creative muscles first and make sure im delivering the best work possible to ppl! and its been a LONG time since ive been creative in a self-indulgent way so i wanna give myself a chance to barf out all the hyperfixation needs first LMAO

i will announce when comms are up again! appreciate u very much for ur words tho, fr 💖 its so special to know that ppl still care about me. and not just as a creator but as a person??? wack. i love yall

[b4kuch1n]

[aegagrushircus]

Might,,, open talksprite commissions,,,,,,,

[daringyounggrayson]

whumptober day 4: pushed (AO3)

It’s raining. Normally, that’s a non-issue; Dick’s Nightwing suit is mostly waterproof, and his boots are designed to have excellent traction, even in less-than-ideal conditions. But this is pushing it. He’s on top of a moving train, his vision is limited due to the rain and his mask’s broken night vision, and his shoes are struggling to plant themselves firmly on the slippery train roof. And the rain is heavy, coming down in sheets, and the wind is howling, nearly knocking him over on more than one occasion—it’s the worst storm Bludhaven has had in years.

And then there’re the goons trying to knock him off the train. Now their fight has become a strange dance where Dick is trying to dodge blows while also making sure they don’t fall off in their attempts to kill him. The ridiculousness of trying to keep people who are trying to harm him safe is not lost on Dick.

If he could, he’d just stick trackers on them and call it a night, but that’s not an option—there are bombs hidden somewhere in the train and/or along its route. People could die.

A branch from a nearby tree falls onto the train, causing all three men to jump back, seeking cover. Dick nearly slips off again, and from their screams, he’s sure the other two do too. Dick is on his hands and knees, balancing there as he tries to figure out how to use this to his advantage. There’s an entrance a few cars ahead. If he’s quiet and stays out of their line of sight, they’ll probably assume he fell off the train. He could easily get past them and slip inside to stop the train and get everyone off before these two fools can even set off their bombs. Ideally, Dick would also find and disarm the bombs, but replacing a train and some of its tracks is something Dick can live with so long as no one gets hurt.

He lies down on his stomach, army crawling across the train’s roof, letting the branch block him from his enemies’ view. When he gets to the ladder, he slides his legs over the edge until his foot hits a rung. Then he leaps from one ladder to the next, catching the next rung with a tight grip. It would be faster to simply jump across the rooftops, but he needs to be as discrete as possible.

He’s nearly there—just a few yards left to go—when a gun goes off. He instinctively stills and covers his head, and a bullet bounces off the train several feet away from him. Normally, gunshots wouldn’t be a shock in this kind of scenario, but Dick’s already disarmed them, he—

He looks up to find a third partner. He’s just exited from the same place Dick was hoping to enter through, and he’s holding a gun with a shaking hand. Fantastic.

Dick moves like lightning—he charges the man and knocks the gun out of his hand before his trembling fingers can find the trigger.

“How many of your people are here right now?” Dick shouts above the wind, holding the man in a headlock.

“It doesn’t matter. it’s too late,” the man sneers. “You can’t stop us now.”

“That’s what they all say.” Dick swipes his legs and knocks him to the ground, pulling out handcuffs and attaching him to a nearby bar. “But you know what? I kind of like being underestimated.”

Dick stands, planning to walk back to the hatch and enter the train. He hasn’t even taken his first step when heavy footsteps charge toward him. Dick ducks just in time to avoid being body-slammed by one of the goons from the other train car, and the man stumbles, losing his balance and sliding along the length of the roof. He’s quick to get back up and charge Dick again, this time with raised fists and an animalistic screech.

“I’m kind of on a tight schedule here,” Dick calls as he engages in the fight. He really doesn’t have time for this; the train’s picking up speed.

A large gust of wind nearly knocks him over again, and his boots squeak as they try and fail to find traction. The thug lunges at him, tripping over his own feet but managing to land a weak hit against Dick’s shoulder.

It’s ridiculous that it’s enough to send him tipping over the edge.

He tries and fails to find his footing, only managing to slip backward further. He reflexively reaches out for the attacker’s hand, but he forces himself to retract; the odds of Dick pulling him down and killing him are higher than the odds of the man managing to hold their combined weight. As he falls over the edge, the tips of his fingers brush against the train car’s safety bar, but the rain prevents him from grasping it.

He hits the ground, tries to roll with the fall. The initial impact knocks the wind out of him, and he’s left gasping as sharp pain explodes over his head and back. When he finally stops, he’s covered in mud and blood, and every inch of him feels sore. It wasn’t a long fall, but it was fast and hard.

He pushes himself up on shaking elbows, watches as the blurry figures on the roof disappear into the train car. He’s not going to get back there; even if he had the time, even if he had super speed, he doesn’t think he can move. He needs help.

Dick presses his emergency beacon and calls Wally on his comms. He thinks he says something, but he must pass out, because next thing he knows, Wally’s tapping his cheek, begging him to wake up. He’s blurry, which doesn’t make sense, because Wally’s not running—the only thing moving is his hand, and it’s slow.

Instead of voicing his confusion, Dick vomits. Wally rolls him onto his side, talking too fast for Dick to understand.

In between gasps, Dick says, “The train. Bombs.” His voice sounds wrong to his own ears, slurred.

“You’re hurt,” Wally points out, hesitant. His hands are bloody. How did Wally get blood on his hands already?

“I don’t care—you have to save them!” Dick says, gritting his teeth and closing his eyes as the pain builds in his head. “Medical is on their way—go!”

oOo

Dick isn’t awake when the medical team arrives, but he does wake up, so he figures they did show up.

He raises his hand to rub at his eyes and finds an IV sticking out of it, stuck to his hand with clear tape. He turns his head, taking in the machines and monitors. He must be in the Watchtower’s ICU.

“Hey,” someone—Wally—whispers on the other side of the bed. “Are you awake?”

“Mmhmm,” Dick mumbles. He turns his head to face Wally, wincing. “Bombs?”

“I took care of it; no one got hurt,” Wally promises.

“Thanks.” Dick closes his eyes. The lights are dim, but they still feel too bright. “How long have I been out?”

“As in unconscious?” Wally sighs, and his chair creaks. “Well, uh, you were in a coma for almost three days. You woke up yesterday, but you’ve been pretty out of it. I’m honestly not confident that you’ll even remember this conversation.”

“Wanna bet?” Dick asks, a loopy smile crossing his face.

Wally laughs. “Sure, I could use ten dollars.”

“I’m going to remember.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I am.” This time Wally doesn’t protest, and Dick takes it as a win. After a moment, he asks, “I’m okay, though, right?”

“Oh sure. Spinal bruising and a brain hemorrhage have nothing on the Justice League’s medical technology and your stubbornness,” Wally says lightly. “What happened to you anyway?”

“Got pushed off a train,” Dick mumbles, words slurring together as he gets closer and closer to unconsciousness. “Probably landed head first on a rock.” He can barely remember the fight, barely remembers falling. Instead of a solid memory, it’s just a bunch of non-chronological snapshots.

“That tracks.” Wally shifts in his chair, and his fingers find their way to the back of Dick’s hand. “It was scary, finding you like that. I thought you were going to die.”

And Dick had told Wally to leave him anyway. He doesn’t regret doing it—someone has to make the hard calls—but he doesn’t envy Wally. “I’m fine,” he tries to reassure.

Wally’s voice is tight when he speaks. “Yeah, you’re going to be fine, because you’re you—but you weren’t fine. And you’re still not. Hell, you’re hooked up to a bunch of machines and you can’t even keep your eyes open.”

Dick opens his eyes and finds that Wally’s are shiny with unshed tears. “Wally.”

“Sorry, it’s just—” Wally shakes his head, wipes the back of his hand across his eyes. “Uh, can I get you anything? Last time I was here you were nauseous.”

“No, stomach’s fine, just tired.” He must be on a million drugs, too. He wonders how many he’ll have to add to his regimen because of this.

Wally nods, then looks down at his watch when it beeps. “I have to go—Watchtower duty. The rest of the original Titans said they were going to stop by later today, and Alfred and Bruce are outside waiting for me to finish, so you won’t be alone.”

Dick hums in acknowledgment. Then he says, “Thanks for coming, the other day and now.”

Wally leans in and hugs him gently, carefully. “Anytime. And take as much time as you need to heal. Seriously—the Titans will be okay without you for a while, even if Roy ends up leading.”

Dick laughs and nods into Wally’s shoulder, and then they let go. Wally leaves with a promise to be back soon, and Dick, determined to remember this conversation, reminds him to bring his ten dollars when he does.

[harriertail]

This may be a weird question but bear with me. I follow a lot of artists, while some of them are older than me (+23) most are younger. Most of them also go to school or college or more. I'm incredibly busy all the time and I'm sure a lot of these people are too, yet they post art super fast! You too! Even though you don't post art every day you still post art on a monthly or weekly basis. It takes me literal years to finish one single image. How do you do it? Your artstyle is so complex and detailed, you do backgrounds too, how do you find the time to draw?

How do i find time? I dont do my uni work. Everyone jokes about work/social balance but im a terrible student and will prioritise my hobbies. Everything else takes a break. Whenever im at home im drawing tbh, especially this summer. I rarely do my uni work unless its exam season and i Have to so i just have time. When it comes to actually Drawing and the process… weirdly i was thinking about this the other day. I rarely start and finish a piece (unless its a comm lol) in the same day or even week and its frustrating so i feel u there. Recently ive been trying to finish pieces more quickly from first sketch to finished piece (after abel, little storm comic coming soon) but my avos covers and the clantober stuff and stuff on my main has been MONTHS in the making. I got wips dating back to 2019. Im super badly focused when drawing as well like ill jump between tabs but ive found that setting like goals in my notes app (to do lists) and only have one piece open at a time helps me (i usually have 10 pieces open that ill aim to get done and surprise nothing gets done). I also work really well when im hammered so if i get back around 2 ill draw till sunrise but thats not ideal if u have uni or work. //// I suppose my main advice is only have one thing open/working on, music or asmr or smth to help you focus, and being motivated by my own need to post content and get those fucking notes ngl. Sometimes if my heads really not in it ill go for a walk or run to clear my head before i sit down to draw. Discipline. Its like the gym, sometimes u have to drag urself. Sorry if thats the unpopular opinion but if you want something done its gotta get done!

[nevertheless-moving]

Suicidal Misunderstanding X

Star Wars Time Travel AU #27

Part I - - - - - Part II - - - - - Part III - - - - - Part IV - - - - - Part V - - -  - - Part VI - - - - - Part VII - - - - - Part VIII - - - - - Part IX

“I realize this is incredibly difficult,” the Nautolan Soul Healer said calmly. “But in order for us to help Obi-Wan, we need to determine the cause of his current disconnection with reality. Based on the drug panel, and convenient surveillance, we have, to the best of our ability, ruled out temporary psychosis brought on by a drug interaction.”

Cody stiffened further, not sure how to react to anything anymore. When a brother tried to end his own life, it was usually obvious why.

Sife Aerdo continued on. “There have, of course, been cases of Jedi Seers giveing into their fears of the future, or losing their sense of reality, but every case study involving such an extreme reaction was the result a gradual degradation over the course of many years. Nevertheless, it seems clear that Obi-Wan experienced a vision, and it may have impacted his breakdown to some extent. The more we know, the more successful any attempts to convince him of reality will be.”

Bant furrowed her brow in thought, trying to replay three decades of increasingly vague discussions of nightmares.

”Considering the high profile nature of his position, we cannot rule out some kind of psychological attack, perhaps even a darksider incursion.

Anakin leaned forward intently, the inside of his skull buzzing with white noise.

"All that being said, we must be prepared to treat Obi-Wan’s self harm as the  culmination of a long and quiet mental health struggle. He would not be the first in the Order to disguise such a thing with durasteel self-discipline.”

At that, Bant and Mace took a moment to release their feelings to the force, while Anakin raised his shields defensively.

Master Aerdo finally hesitated, before continuing in the same smooth tone. “I would ordinarily prefer to structure this kind of conversation quite differently- allow Obi-Wan time to share his feelings first and invite you each separately to support him in the healing process. But he’s gone from fighting sedatives and force compulsions as though the fate of the galaxy depended on it, to a self-induced coma. All while barely lucid, yet still somehow maintaining Master Class mental shielding. We need to get a better understanding of his mental landscape if we’re going to even begin the process of treatment."

It is necessary to note that everyone in that room had led, in one way or another, a somewhat miserable life. This was the main reason none of them could claim that the next five hours were the worst they had ever experienced. 

“But he’s always had terrible sleeping habits.” Anakin said hoarsely.

“Yes, but I think they got worse after Qui-Gon passed,” Bant argued, not sure what point she was making. 

“When I pointed out he couldn’t be getting more than three hours a night he told me that he could manage on meditation” Cody offered irritably.

“That’s technically true,” Mace confirmed. “If the Master in question is well-balanced otherwise”

“So its like his eating habits, crushing responsibilities, and repeated exposure to violence, then? Completely fine for a Jedi, in less it’s not, in which case it’s a major red flag?” 

“I think it would help to establish a timeline.“

Aerdo actually dredged up old mission reports, leading to the group reluctantly contacting Ashoka for her memories of Mortis.

At her Master’s insistence, she told them everything she remembered, hazy as it was, nervously elaborating on her own memories of falling. To her confusion, Master Windu all but brushed past that, assuring her that the important thing with stepping into darkness was the choice to the return to the light. Anakin bizarrely agreed with Windu. Out loud. Unnerved by the cooperation more than anything, she put her holographic foot down and demanded to know what was going on. 

Anakin took the comm-link into a separate room to speak privately.

Upon return, he informed the group (with a visibly red and puffy face) that Kit would be escorting her back from Mount Cala cleanup early, daring anyone to disagree. Windu nodded and the conversation continued on.

Together they rewatched holo-footage of Obi-Wan laughing amongst Ghost company the night before last, and debated reports from psychometric investigators who had scoured the cantina as well as Obi-Wan’s personal quarters for traces of illicit substances. Between that and another drug panel, they were finally forced to conclude that despite the timing, the alcohol at most confused Obi-Wan’s perception of a vision, or possibly simply loosened his tongue.

Bant prodded Cody to repeat every word from the holocar ride to the temple, taking furious notes. Cody was unable to stop the heat that crawled up his face.

Just when the looming horror of Obi-Wan actually preparing to intentionally die started to break over Anakin, Windu interjected.

“You don’t see what I do,” the Harun Kal said grimly. “Something galaxy-sized shattered around Obi-Wan and he didn’t break from it. The closest comparison I have is Master Yaddle’s presence when she meditated on her confinement. He’s chosen to keep going, even when, quite frankly, death would be a release. We’re missing something fundamental.”

“He said there were ‘other dark forces at work.’ Even if the fight was objectively hopeless... there’s no way he would choose to die because of it!” Anakin agreed vehemently, shaking off morbid fears.

“But he did choose to die.” Cody said quietly. And the wind went out of Anakin’s sails.

“Lets go back.”

Anakin gritted his teeth as they picked apart everything ‘unusual’ Obi-Wan had said and done leading up to his visit with Bant.

“What exactly did he...”

“So Plo Koon was able to get a read through his shields?”

“Did he have anything to eat?”

“How did that compare to...”

“When he's mentioned things in the future...did it seem good or bad to you?” Bant asked.

“Bad.” Cody and Anakin said in unison. Remembering the trip to the temple Cody spoke again, “Definitely bad.”

“Right. When we were talking he sometimes used the wrong tenses for things, people. I confronted him on not knowing ‘when’ he was after Knight Skywalker left. He told me that he knew what was real, but he was “enjoying not fully living in the moment” he also said that he intended to “wake up”

“Enjoying? That’s the exact word he used?” Cody asked incredulous. 

“He did seem...mostly happy yesterday. Giddy, at points.” Anakin said, slumping in on himself.

Bant looked at her notes once more before addressing the group.

“This isn’t vision psychosis in any manner I’ve heard of before...but I think I might have a theory. He used to have intense visions when we were kids; plenty of us did sometimes, but Obi-Wan would be unable to sleep after. What terrified him more than anything was the uncertainty that he might make the wrong choice- even when the vision was about something good, or neutral. His visions gradually stopped coming around puberty. We just had a conversation about this a few months ago- how relieved he was to only have to manage flashes of precognition. If he had a random, horrifying vision of a terrible future...suicide wouldn’t be his reaction. It’s too final.”

“Even if he blamed himself for what he saw coming?” Mace asked.

“Especially if he blamed himself.” Bant said. 

“What’s your theory?” Aerdo prodded.

“What if...what if he was telling the truth when he said he could separate out what was real and what was not? What if there was no distortion or blurring between now and then? What if he was just wrong about which was which?”

“That...would be a very extreme and abnormal manifestation of force-induced psychosis. He has training in distinguishing reality from visions. The continued presence of his mental shielding means that the fabric of his mind can’t be so horrifically collapsed in on itself.” 

“What if the vision was actually that realistic?” Bant said, pushing back against the soul healer. “So detailed and vivid that it effectively was a reality in itself, and everything else, all of us...”

“Were just memories” Anakin finished. “It would...actually explain pretty much everything. You said he wanted to wake up and when...when I found him.” He stopped, swallowing. “When I found him, he argued with me...what if he wasn’t trying to hurt himself? If you’re right...that would mean I found him trying to get back to reality.”

“It could explain his behavior in the halls...his desperation to wake...” Sife mused “But it runs counter to every other experience I’ve had with those managing prophetic visions. Master Windu, could that explain the shatterpoints you saw?”

“I’m not certain. It would have to have been extraordinarily real to create the echos of Shattering I witnessed. I don’t know if that depth of vision has occurred before, but then again, many things are possible in the force.”

“You really think he might have been...trying to wake up from dream? By killing himself?!” Cody asked incredulous.

“If that ends up being what happened I am going to give him such shit. That is the worst way to end a vision.” Anakin replied.

“Yes. It is.” Bant said pointedly. “That’s why it’s a last resort, after every other attempt to wake fails.” 

They all sat in silence, processing various implications. Cody was unnerved by another terrifying insight into force powers, as well as the idea that the General might vividly remember Cody being inexplicably mind-controlled into trying to kill him. Anakin was trying to understand what this would mean for them, and the conversations he had thought they had had. Did...any of it count, if he thought he was offering it to a hallucination?

“Alright, this is a valuable working idea, but let’s make sure to examine everything with an open mind before we draw any more conclusions. Anakin, what happened after you left the healers office?”

Obi-Wan’s critique of the practicalities of visiting a soul healer could be and was interpreted multiple ways. The incongruity of peacekeepers in war sparked a rehash of earlier discussion. More apologies. Self identifying as ‘crazy’ inspired new debate, especially in the context of the new theory. 

“When I saw him enter the fountain room I assumed he had had a brutal run-in with  dark force user.” Windu explained. “Based on everything we’ve gone over, I don’t understand when...but some of the more insidious sith compulsions work by taking whatever small anger or hurt you feel and magnifying them until they consume you. If Obi-Wan was already experiencing self loathing...”

Cody sucked in a breath. “Then a Sith mind suggestion would bring him to commit suicide. It...sounds like something he might do, if he was partially in control. Take the blow rather than let himself be used as a weapon against anyone else, even his worst enemy.”

“Hells, it could have been an even vaguer compulsion, driving him to attack the person he hates the most,” Bant added darkly.

Anakin buried his head in his hands, trying to hold it together. He couldn’t afford to lose control or get angry. Hells, getting angry at Obi-Wan for ‘failing him’ when in pain could be the reason Obi-Wan was currently in the healing halls. The man said he loved him unconditionally, then practically had a breakdown over how much Anakin pushed that unconditional love to the breaking point, then killed himself. How was he supposed to-

“Anakin? Are you alright to continue?” someone said.

“Yes. No. There’s more I have to tell you...I don’t know if it will help but - it was hurting Obi-Wan...I...”

“Let’s just take it one step at a time. What happened after you left Mace?”

Apparently even Cody somehow knew more about Bruck Chun than Anakin. Master Windu and Eerin told different sides of the same sad story, which spiraled back into a conversation about Obi-Wan’s inadequacy issues, which somehow devolved into a long rant about Qui-Gon Jinn that Master Windu had apparently been holding back for years. 

“My apologies.” He said afterwards, clearing his throat as the group stared, taken aback. “Old grievances. Go on Anakin, what did happened after you got to the ‘secret spot.’”

“He...was skirting around whatever was bothering him...I pushed him...told him I wanted to help...he said I couldn’t...because it was me...because of what I...”

Anakin stood up suddenly, feeling the walls of the room closing in.

“I’m sorry- I’m sorry I-” 

He ran out.

He turned around almost immediately, pacing in the small corridor, knowing he couldn’t leave, simply needing a minute to catch his breath.

Master Windu followed him out after a moment, not saying anything, just standing there. Watching him.

“What!” Anakin finally snapped. “What do you have to say that I don’t know already!”

“Knight Skywalker-”

“Don’t call me that! I DON’T DESERVE-” 

Anakin let out a frustrated snarl, punching a wall. The crumble of stone beneath this fist briefly made him feel better, but then he remembered Obi-Wan’s heartbroken expression in the light of an underworldly glow, and the tiny, choked sound he heard when the healers moved him and Anakin just...collapsed, falling to his knees.

Master Windu sank down gracefully beside him.

“Anakin. This isn’t about attachment issues, is it.”

“Not really, no. I mean, maybe you’ll blame attachment but it’s more about...”

“Anger.”

Anakin looked up at that, trying to regain the meditative calm he had felt for a glimmering moment yesterday, right in-between making peace in the cave and everything burning to ash. 

“You know that I have had my own struggles with anger. It is how and why I came to develop Vaapad.” 

“Yes, but you’ve Mastered your anger. And you’ve never...never given in to hate.”

A beat passed and Windu watched some of Skywalker’s familiar breaking points flicker into view. 

“You’ve done something. Something you know the Jedi won’t forgive.”

“Obi-Wan forgave me.” Anakin said, whispering. “He said that even though I couldn’t fix what I did he loved me anyway and I just needed to...to honestly regret what I did and not do it again. I told him I’d get rid of my lightsaber and I meant it and...I thought he forgave me. I was ready to go to the Council with him, come clean about everything. And then I left him alone to get dinner and when I came back...he was holding my lightsaber. My lightsaber.” 

Anakin buried his face in his hands, shuddering with creeping cold.

“I’m not going to critique your and Obi-Wan’s attachment to each other right now. I’m well aware that much of the order has turned to personal ties to maintain their stability given the ongoing horrors of war. I am, for many reasons, wary of the risks this brings us, yet it is also true that risks do not automatically mean failure. I myself have mastered my emotions in a different manner than conventional wisdom councils.” 

Windu spoke carefully. For all that he and Anakin had similar relationships with the force, they rarely saw eye to eye on any given subject. At a certain point, Mace had accepted that the volatile young man was determined to find the worst possible interpretation for anything he said. And Mace was not the order’s most patient diplomat.

“As for your crime, whatever it is, l will tell you this: Unless you choose to renounce the code and leave our number, you will be treated as a Jedi Knight, subject to our protections, as well as our judgement. You will receive appropriate mental counseling. If you are judged to be a danger to those around you, your actions will be curtailed and monitored, possibly through temporary confinement.  The Jedi do not believe in punitive measures for their own sake, but you may be required to provide restitution to those you harmed, perhaps indefinitely. 

Silence hung perilously between them. Windu watched a tremor run through the unfathomable kaleidoscopic of shatterpoints that had orbited Skywalker since he was a boy. A small one broke inward, and an attached tangle of larger, darker ones fell away, crumbling to dust. The rest faded from view, invisible for the moment. A choice had been made, some decision that closed off at least one path to the darkside.

“There’s no one to make restitutions to.”

“...You’re going to have to elaborate on that.”

“Let’s go back inside- I don’t want to do this twice.”

They returned to the increasingly hated meeting room.

Anakin spoke in an outpouring of words about love and hate, about misplaced revenge and now uncertain forgiveness. When he finally finished, the room was deathly silent.

The three Jedi sat quietly while Cody pinched the bridge of his nose. “I guess this is why Jedi have the no attachment rule, huh? I admit I never really got it, but I suppose even if I-”

Bant abruptly lunged up, fumbling to bring her lightsaber to Anakin’s neck. Everyone jumped to their feet, except for Anakin, who stared at Bant with a wretched expression.

“MASTER EERIN! This is not-”

“Did you do it?” she asked, ignoring the Master of the Order.

“Bant!”

“It was my first thought after I saw him. We all rushed in expecting a fight, or a bomb, only to find you, insane, and him with a hole next to his heart. I didn’t want to believe it of course, but you’ve always had a violent streak that Obi-Wan, force help him, couldn’t quite soothe away. A fight gone wrong. Master Windu said it was suicide, and I believed him, and I’ve been trying to make sense of that ever since. But Mace found you after, didn’t he? After you felt guilty? Did you think he was going to turn on you?”

“Bant Eerin, you are dangerously-”

“No.” Anakin whispered.

“Obviously I might be why. But I didn’t- I couldn’t. I know I’m not good but I can’t even imagine- holding a saber against him like that. Kriff, do you not get how much I can’t handle losing people I love? I was insane when you saw me because I saw someone trying to kill Obi-Wan and I couldn’t even fight them.”  

Bant held his gaze for several lingering seconds, deactivated her saber and dropping it with a clatter. They stared at each other, breathing heavily and not blinking. She returned to her seat, moving jerkily. “I apologize Knight Skywalker. That was uncalled for.” 

“I wish I could say I wouldn’t have done the same thing in your shoes” he responded lowly. Bant made a tiny, unintelligible noise in reply. 

Cody collapsed back into his chair, holstering his blaster.  “Alright then...so after you finished sitting in the fountain room...what happened next?”

Everyone stared at him.

“What?”

“You’re handling Anakin’s confession somewhat dispassionately. We’re simply surprised.” Mace said slowly, returning to his seat at the same time as Master Aerdo fell into theirs.

Cody shifted uncomfortably. “The vod were trained in a wide range of enemy suppression tactics. While we’re extremely glad the Jedi have never asked us to employ them, I’m not...unfamiliar with this scale of deliberate slaughter. At least in the hypothetical, sir.”

“I see.” Aerdo said. “That is a valuable insight to have, thank you. Knight Skywalker-”

“Just...call me Anakin. Or Skywalker.”

“Anakin. When did this happen?”

“About two years ago, immediately before the First Battle of Geonosis.”

“And have you had any similar experiences with giving into the darkside since?” they asked placidly.

“I don’t think so but...we went to war the next day and....I don’t know if I’ve stopped fighting since it- since I did what I did.”

“Hmm. Anakin, would you mind stepping outside the room and waiting in the corridor for a moment please?” 

He bit his tongue, tasting blood, and quietly walked out the door while the Masters decided his fate. He leaned back against a wall, desperately wanting to see Padme. 

To his surprise, the door opened barely a few minutes later, and he was politely invited back in.

“Anakin.” Master Windu spoke. “Thank you for telling us this. It’s an important insight into Obi-Wan’s feelings right now, and I recognize that you could have kept it a secret. As Head of the Order, and with the advice of a Senior Soul Healer, I have made a decision. You will be assigned a personal soul healer, who you will start seeing tomorrow. Commander Cody pointed out that over nearly two years of continuous warfare, you have maintained some of the the lowest trooper casualty units of any division, by a significant margin if we evaluate based on mission risk level. Your civilian and enemy casualties will be reviewed, but even considering constant war, since your massacre of the Tuskens, you have clearly managed to at least... direct your violence away from the innocent. We do not consider you a threat to the inhabitants of the world. For the time being, I see no real benefit to limiting or tracking your behavior within the temple or on planet, but you are barred from leaving orbit. I have decided to delay a full reckoning before the council until such time that your former Master is well enough to provide his own opinion. Give me just cause, and I will have you confined to a force-suppressing cell. Do you understand?”

Anakin nodded, bowing in acknowledgment. All things considered, it was...honestly better than he expected.

“Now, as Cody” Windu paused. “My apologies, as the Commander was saying-” 

“Cody’s fine, sir” Cody said, wrung out in a way different from anything Kamino had trained him for.

“...I think we can all consider ourselves on a first name basis at this point.” Bant said with a snort. She paused. “That includes you Anakin. I really don’t know how to handle what you did but kark it, I don’t want to hate you. For myself.”

Everyone nodded.

“As Cody was saying, what happened next?”

Peace. Comfort. Hunger. A warning in the force...

-

“I tried to pull the saber back but his finger was already on the igniter...” 

“You probably saved his life. Even a second later-”

“I know, that’s almost the worst part.”

-

“-his neck”

“Why would he change weapons?”

“What if-”

-

“He said what to you and Healer Che?”

“That has to support the detailed vision idea, think about-”

“I’m sorry, Emperor?”

-

“I think we’re done.”

Anakin stared blankly at Sife. “But we didn’t figure anything out.”

“Not conclusively, but we’re unlikely to make any more progress, you’ve given me enough information to preform a meaningful meditative scan, or guide a conversation, should Obi-Wan wake, or navigate through his mind, should we decide to make a more decisive attempt at his shields.”

“Master Aerdo... I leave the final judgement up to you, but I strongly urge you to make a more decisive attempt. I am more convinced now than I was...” Mace glanced at the chronometer “five hours ago that this was motivated by a specific, external stimuli, likely dark. Do you disagree?”

“No.” they said with a sigh. “But I don’t want to underestimate how much underlying factors might have contributed to his response to stimuli, including underlying factors that none of you were aware of.”

The Nautolan Soul Healer stood up, tucking their hands into their sleeves to address the room with classical Jedi serenity. It was a little irritating.

“In any case, we all need to sleep, eat, and meditate. Master Eerin, you have the rest of the day off, I've cleared it with Master Che already. Master Windu, I leave the final judgement up to you, and I am aware that your duties as Master of the Order are unceasing, but I urge you to take some time to center yourself before returning to the council. Commander Cody, I would be more than willing to arrange soul healing for you or any of the Vod, please let me know. Anakin, you will receive a comm later today with further details on your future healing sessions. 

They bowed low, then glided out the door.

Bant stood next, bowed individually to each soul, and sped walked out.

Commander Cody cleared his throat awkwardly, “Mace- what should I tell the troops? We’re supposed to have command briefings later tonight.”

“If anyone asks about General Kenobi, tell them its classified.” I’ll schedule a briefing on the subject. Now go find Captain Rex and take care of yourself, that’s an order.”

Cody saluted, first to the high General, then to Anakin.

Finally it was just Mace and Anakin.

“Is there anyone who you trust who I can call to stay with you.” Master Windu asked.

“I can manage on my own” Anakin replied, not willing to give the Master of the Order anything else he could use against him, even after everything.

Master Windu held back a sigh.

He continued once more, making a deliberate attempt to soften his tone. “Anakin- I know we’ve had our differences, but this is not a trick, nor a trap. You’ve suffered a series of great shocks in the last 24 hours and handled them with immense maturity. I myself am struggling to deal with the emotional fallout.”

Anakin looked up at that, surprised. He didn’t seem to be struggling, but maybe that was what made him a good Jedi Master...

“As I told you before, I am not going to begrudge you the comfort of attachment. I’m rather convinced it would do you more harm than good at this point. I don’t want you flying right now, and you don’t have to be alone. I hope we have come to a better understanding today, but I doubt my presence is suddenly a comfort, though please correct me if I’m wrong. Now is there someone I can call?”

-

Padme ended her call with Master Windu extremely discomfited. She had barely heard from Anakin since he ran out on her the night before last to take care of an apparently extremely drunk Obi-Wan. He had messaged her a few times that night, promising to make it up to her, but had been comm-silent since. She had been starting to get worried, and now the Master of the Order was asking her to pick him up from the temple. Fortunately, she had already cleared most of her meetings for the week well in advance (Courascant leave usually meant THEM time, not that she was jealous of Obi-Wan, of course).

The speeder ride back from the temple was silent. All Anakin would say was that he would explain everything once they were in ‘a secure location.’ 

The door to the apartment had scarcely closed behind them when Anakin fell into her arms, shaking.

“Anakin, talk to me love, what’s wrong?” She gently guided him to the couch, arranging him so she could hold him protectively.

“Obi-Wan tried to kill himself.”

She let out a harsh gasp, “No! He can’t have, he would never-” 

“I got to him in time, but Padme... he was holding a lightsaber to his heart. It was...really close” He burrowed deeper into the folds of her dress, and she gripped him fiercely.

“Oh gods, is he-”

“He’s physically healing, but he’s still...not all there. I spent all of today locked in a room, trying to figure out if it was a Sith Attack, or an insane vision, or..or me”

“Anakin! What do you mean ‘me’ - Obi-Wan loves you, you-”

“I know.” Anakin interrupted her again, knowing he was being unfair; he was just too exhausted to be patient.

“He told me loved me. He...he...found out about what I did to the Tusken village, You should have seen his face, Padme, he was horrified, but he still told me he loved me, and he was willing to forgive me, even though he shouldn’t”

“Of course he forgave you,” Padme whispered. “You’re not a monster, Anakin, I know you would never do something like that again.”

"And then after we talked, I left him alone and he-” Anakin choked out into her dress.

Tears ran down her face, heart breaking. “That’s- that’s horrible. Anakin...it must have have been a attack, Obi-Wan wouldn’t do that.” she said urgently.

He pulled away, horrified. “I made you cry. I made Obi-Wan cry too. I’m sorry- Padme please, promise me you won’t-”

She grabbed the sides of his head. 

Her nails bit into the soft skin behind his ears as she pulled him down so they were face-to-face, vowing, “Never. I swear by the force itself, I will never choose death over life.”

He let out a relieved sigh, eyes fluttering closed.

“Now you,” she demanded

“As long as I have anyone to live for, I swear by the force, I will never choose death over life.”

She pulled him the rest of the way in for a bruising kiss. He lifted her, and they desperately clung at one another as he carried her to bed. They continued like that, clinging and grasping, until exhaustion carried him to sleep. She pulled the covers over top them both and curled around him defensively as the day slowly faded away.

Part XI

[stolen-pen-name23]

Hey Katie!! If you’re still taking prompts, how about “you have to stay awake” with Obi-wan and Ahsoka?

Hi Jus! Thanks for the prompt! I had fun with this! (From these angst prompts).

---

“Tell me a story.”

“Dunno any stories,” Obi-Wan slurred.

Ahsoka frowned. “Sure you do. You never shut up.”

“Yeah, I do.” Ahsoka couldn’t see his face, but even with his voice slurred, he sounded offended. Ahsoka did not care that he was offended – only that he was awake.

“No you don’t,” Ahsoka reiterated, hoping to get a rise out of him. “Not when you’re around Anakin.”

“Cause he never shuts up.”

“I think you two set each other off.”

“Just him.”

“Whatever you say, Master.”

Obi-Wan hummed, and Ahsoka felt his body relax in her lap. She couldn’t see anything, but she could tell he was falling asleep. That wouldn’t do.

“Master Kenobi,” she said. “You have to stay awake. You have a concussion.”

Everyone had escaped the tunnel collapse. Everyone except Obi-Wan and Ahsoka. They were buried under the rubble, no comms, no light and no professional medical attention. Of course, Ahsoka didn’t actually need medical attention. The second he had sensed the tunnel collapsing, Obi-Wan had tackled her to the ground, shielding her from the falling rocks and nearly smothering her in the process. Ahsoka only hoped Anakin was making quick work on the other side.

Tired of not being able to see Obi-Wan’s face, she pulled out her saber and laid it next to her. She ignited it, and the small space was bathed in a green glow. She looked down at Obi-Wan and for the first time was able to see the blood matted in his hair – the way it made it spike and stand up awkwardly. His eyes were closed again.

“Hey,” Ahsoka said. “I told you to stay awake.”

“I’m awake,” he murmured.

“Good,” she said. “Now tell me a story.”

“What do you wanna hear?”

“Something about Anakin. Something I can use against him later.”

Obi-Wan lit up a little bit in the Force. Progress.

“He almost killed me with soup one time.”

Ahsoka couldn’t help but laugh. “He did what?”

“We usually either went to the refectory or I would make our meals,” Obi-Wan said. He slowed down as though in thought.

“Uh-huh,” Ahsoka prodded.

“But you know Anakin. Always an independent spirit. He wanted to try cooking on his own.”

“Oh no.”

“Oh yes,” Obi-Wan groaned.

Ahsoka laughed. “So what happened?”

“He insisted we go to the commerce sector. I let him pick out what he thought we needed and I bought it,” a wistful look passed over his face. “I remember the way he looked at the world like it was brand new. He was so young and he was so much happier then.”

Ahsoka could feel the sudden shift in Obi-Wan’s mood through the Force, unguarded as he was in his current state.

“He’s happy now,” Ahsoka said, though it was half-hearted. She knew Anakin felt as burdened by this war as the rest of them, if not more so. He wore it heavy on his shoulders.

“Not like that. Not anymore.”

His eyes fluttered closed.

“Hey,” Ahsoka said quickly. She didn’t want to shake him and hurt him more. “Master Kenobi, you have to stay awake.”

“I am,” he whined.

“Then open your eyes.”

“You made it bright in here,” he complained.

“It’s just my saber. It’s not even that bright,” she said with concern. His eyes fluttered open and then closed again. “Hey! You didn’t finish telling me the story!”

“Oh yeah.”

“Well?”

“Well, I took him home and gave him free rein of our kitchen,” Obi-Wan said. “Let’s just say I never made that mistake again.”

Ahsoka giggled in spite of their situation.

“He made this soup from Tatooine. It probably would have been good if he had made it correctly.”

“But he didn’t?”

“Not even close.”

“So it tasted bad, but you still ate it?” she asked, cocking a judgemental eyebrow at him.

“You weren’t there,” Obi-Wan said defensively. “You didn’t see the look on his face. He was so excited. He’s got these eyes and I just…”

“You couldn’t bear to disappoint him?”

“Yeah.”

Ahsoka started to laugh, but it died on her lips when she saw him nodding off again.

“Master,” she said sharply. “Stay awake.”

“‘m awake.”

“Then keep going. Come on. Tell me what happened next.”

“I got sick,” he said plainly. “Very sick. Had to get hooked up to an IV and everything.”

“Oh no. How’d Anakin take that?”

“He doesn’t know it was his fault.”

“What?” Ahsoka asked incredulously. “How could he not know?”

“Pretended I had the flu,” Obi-Wan said. “He was too young. Couldn’t tell the difference.”

Ahsoka laughed. “And he still doesn’t know?”

“No. Don’t tell ‘m.”

“Oh, I’m telling him.”

“Mmm.” His eyes closed again.

“Hey, stay awake!”

No response.

“Please,” Ahsoka said. “Please stay awake, Obi-Wan. I need you to stay awake. Anakin needs you to stay awake.”

No response.

“Come on, Master,” she whispered to him. She cradled him in her arms as best she could in the limited space and prayed to the Force that Anakin would find them soon.

Ahsoka didn’t know how long they stayed that way, but her heart leapt when a beam of sunlight hit her face.

“Snips? Obi-Wan?” Anakin called out.

“Master!” Ahsoka yelled back.

Rubble and dirt fell away as Anakin tore his way to them. He leapt down into their small space and Ahsoka could feel the anxiety rolling off of him in waves.

“Are you two alright?” Anakin asked frantically.

“Anakin,” Ahsoka said, tears welling up in her eyes. “He won’t wake up.”

[giggles-and-freckles]

Can you do "I'm just a little cold, I'm okay, really. Let me sit with a blanket or something" with anakin (cause desert kid) and obi wan and cuddles?

from these extremely exhausted starters

“And that one?”

“Bassin Minor.”

“Good,” Obi-Wan nodded. Anakin tried not to sink too deep into the pride Obi-Wan seeped into their bond. “You’ve been studying.”

“You don’t let me do anything else,” Anakin said to shield his own joy at Obi-Wan’s praise. He was a teenager now; Obi-Wan didn’t need to know that Anakin still cared about his opinion.

“Ah, yes,” the older Jedi surveyed the star map thoughtfully. “I had a lapse and momentarily forgot what a terrible, totalitarian teacher I am.”

“I don’t know what that word means, but it sounds like something you’d be.”

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes. “Perhaps you should focus on your politics now that you’ve mastered constellations.”

Anakin shifted in his seat. “Politics are stupid.”

“Very good, Padawan,” Obi-Wan beamed in jest. “A lesson better learned early on.” A dismal frown replaced his smile. “Unfortunately, they still dictate a large part of our lives.”

“I dictate my own life,” Anakin said with all the confidence of a thirteen-year-old who knew everything. He leaned back in his seat and put his feet on the holo-projector.

Obi-Wan shoved them back to the floor.

“We’re landing soon. Get your parka.”

It was music to Anakin’s ears. It seemed like they’d been flying forever and he wasn’t even being allowed to pilot, so all he had for entertainment was a star map, a broken mouse droid (which he’d finished repairing six hours ago), and Obi-Wan.

Anakin needed off this kriffing ship.

He stood from his seat, quickly–and immediately fell back down. His head suddenly felt heavy and his vision swam. Weird.

“Anakin!” Obi-Wan called from the small room in the back of the ship. “Parka! Some time today, please.”

“Coming,” Anakin groaned, standing again–slowly this time–and holding his head as he walked.

Every step toward the back room tugged at muscles that shouldn’t be sore. Maybe he’d just been sitting too long, but it seemed strange for him to suddenly ache all over, when he hadn’t even done any physical training in a few days.

“Here,” Obi-Wan shoved a parka into his chest as soon as he got in the doorway. “Make sure it’s zipped.”

“Okay, okay,” Anakin mumbled, sliding it over his robes. 

“If your feet get cold, tell me. I don’t want a repeat of–”

“Master. I’ve been to Halak IV before.”

“Yes, and I practically carried you the entire way back to the ship because you were whining.”

“Oh,” Anakin grinned sheepishly, tugging on his earmuffs. “Right.”

Obi-Wan moved past his Padawan into the main hall. “I’m going to check on the cargo bay and see if everything’s secure for landing. You go ahead to the cockpit and supervise the autopilot.”

“Can’t I put it on manual just for landing?” Anakin pleaded.

“No. Now go.”

Anakin watched his Master walk away with a sour pout. Obi-Wan was no fun when he was stressed–and he was almost always stressed. 

He made his way to the cockpit and settled into his seat. Supervise the autopilot. Stupid.

Nothing was visible through the thick atmosphere they were flying through, but they must be getting closer to ground-level because the air in the room ran cold and Anakin barely managed to contain a shiver.

It was strange, because even though his body was freezing, his head felt warm–and still so heavy. He leaned against the back of his seat and tried to pinpoint the pressure. Maybe this atmosphere had less oxygen than they had anticipated?

That could be a problem.

“Hey, Master?” Anakin tried to shout to the back of the ship, but quickly clamped his mouth shut. Obi-Wan had always been impressed with his ability to speak at obscene decibels, but suddenly, Anakin found that his throat was tight and unable to produce more than a whisper.

It had been a little sore earlier, but this was ridiculous.

He rubbed at his throat with a frown and tried again. “Master Obi-Wan!”

The throat only tightened and the pressure in his head amplified. He was so distracted by the pain, he didn’t manage to catch himself before shivering along with the next wave of chills that overtook him.

“What’s wrong?” Obi-Wan’s voice came from behind him.

Anakin spun around his chair and winced. When his feet planted themselves on the ground, the room didn’t stop spinning. “I think–” He pressed on his temple, willing the pain to go away. “I think we read the–stats wrong. The atmosphere seems...ugh, highly pressurised. And not oxygen based.”

Instead of insisting they hadn’t read the stats wrong because Obi-Wan Kenobi didn’t do anything wrong as Anakin expected, the older Jedi only stood in the doorway of the cockpit and studied his student with a frown.

“What?” Anakin asked, uncomfortable under his gaze.

“What’s wrong with you?”

“Huh? Nothing.”

“You’re shivering.”

He shrugged as casually as his headache would allow him. “Just cold.”

Obi-Wan didn’t look like he was listening. Instead, he dropped into a crouch in front of Anakin’s chair and laid a palm against Anakin’s forehead.

“You’re burning up,” Obi-Wan said quietly. Concern flickered through their bond.

Anakin pulled away. “I’m fine.”

“Have you been feeling like this all day?”

“I’m fine, Master.”

“You’re staying on the ship.” And, like that, Obi-Wan was back on his feet and walking out of the cockpit.

“What?” Anakin cried, jumping up to follow. Immediately regretted it. His head–ow, ow, owww.

He fell back into the seat with a groan. “Master!” he yelled, his voice straining and stretching

“You have a fever, Anakin,” Obi-Wan called from the main room before striding back into the cockpit with a heap of emergency blankets. “I’ll drop off the supplies. You stay and rest.”

His voice came out garbled behind all of the blankets, but Anakin understood enough to scoff in protest. “No way, Master! I’ve been stuck at the Temple for your last two missions. I��oof.” His words were cut off as Obi-Wan unceremoniously dropped the heap of fabric into his lap. “Master Obi-Wan.”

“Don’t Master Obi-Wan me. You’re sick and I won’t have you going out into the freezing cold and getting even sicker. Now strap in. We’re landing.”

Anakin made sure to click his seatbelt as loudly as possible and give a disdainful groan to make sure Obi-Wan knew just how unfair this was.

…

He wasn’t sure when he’d fallen asleep or how long Obi-Wan had been gone, but it had felt like hours since his Master had gotten off the ship and locked it behind him, leaving Anakin frowning under a few hundred tons of blankets.

But suddenly, he was being lightly jostled and–

“Master?” he slurred, blinked up at the face hovered a couple inches above his.

“Oh,” Obi-Wan said, pulling back. “You’re awake.”

“Why are you on top of me?”

“I’m trying to undo your seatbelt.”

“But you always say that safety is–”

“Anakin.” Obi-Wan sighed, but the corners of his lips quivered. “We’re on the way back to Coruscant. The mission went off without a hitch. I have auto-pilot set. Go to the back room and sleep.”

“Not tired,” Anakin lied. 

“Bed.”

“I'm just a little cold, I'm okay, really.” Anakin scrambled to sit up and realised he was, in fact, very cold. “Let me sit with a blanket or something.”

“Padawan,” Obi-Wan said, gently. Why was Obi-Wan being so nice? “I’m worried about you. I’d feel better if you were getting real rest in a real bed.”

“That’s not a real bed,” Anakin pointed out.

“Please.” And something about the way he pleaded instead of demanded it. Like it was a personal favour he was asking his Padawan to complete–

“Okay.”

Anakin didn’t need help walking to the back room, but he let Obi-Wan guide his shoulder anyway, because something told him it’s what Obi-Wan needed.

And it definitely didn’t count as a real bed, but maybe Obi-Wan had been right, because it sure looked more inviting than the stiff seat in the cockpit. He stumbled into it and Obi-Wan’s hand didn’t leave his shoulder.

“Are you hungry? Thirsty?” the older Jedi asked and, for the first time in Anakin’s life, he thought maybe his Master looked a little unsure of himself.

“No.”

“Okay,” Obi-Wan nodded quickly to himself. “Okay. Okay.”

“Master?”

Obi-Wan’s head snapped up. “Yeah?”

“You said that three times.”

“Oh,” Obi-Wan breathed and then chuckled awkwardly. “Sorry.” Then, he looked back at Anakin. “Do you need more blankets?”

Anakin grinned, looking down at the mountain of fabric on top of him. “I think I’m set.” But his teeth chattered anyway and Obi-Wan’s frown deepened.

“I don’t have any medicine,” Obi-Wan muttered to himself, his eyes flickering around the room as if he had the ability to speak it into existence. “I could comm Bant and see if she could–

“Obi?” Anakin asked, too tired to be embarrassed by the old nickname that tumbled through. “I’m okay, but would you–would you just stay?”

He felt like a youngling again–like the nine-year-old who had known nothing about this life and had relied completely on his Master. Obi-Wan had been there for him every single time, even in the midst of losing his own Master. It was something Anakin had only recently found the time to process and be grateful for. 

Obi-Wan’s face softened and Anakin felt warmth through their bond. “Of course.”

Anakin moved as far toward the wall as he could and Obi-Wan’s eyebrows lifted of their own accord, like he’d only just realised what Anakin meant by ‘stay.’ In that moment, Anakin’s bravery crumbled–he was so stupid. Too old to ask Obi-Wan to sleep with him. Too grown, too big, too independent–

Obi-Wan climbed into the tiny bed and rested his back against the wall, dropping his hand to rest on Anakin’s head, his fingers absentmindedly moving through the small curls that had formed in the absence of a haircut. 

“Hey, Master?” Anakin said, his voice coming out quiet and croaky. Relieved. At peace. Safe.

“Yes, young one?”

“You’re good at taking care of people.”

The tiny movements in his hair froze for a moment and Anakin wondered if he’d said something wrong. But then–the movements resumed and Anakin didn’t need to see his Master to sense his smile. Obi-Wan’s smiles were always like this. The genuine ones anyway. Blinding and merciless in the way they spread through a room, touching every heart in their path and almost always pulling smiles in response.

Anakin thought he was pretty lucky to get to be on the receiving end so often.

[justsomeclintasha]

“It’s my car and you want me to sit in the back?”

“When you stop making comments about my driving you’ll earn the right to sit up front.”

“Fine, I’ll sit back here with Nat. I like her better anyway.” She rolled her eyes as Tony climbed in the back seat with her. Clint adjusts the radio to a station he likes and speeds down the highway. They just finished a mission and things went surprisingly well. Apart from a few bruises and a light scratch from a knife on her stomach, she had no major injuries. The guys also shared a few bruises and Clint had a busted lip. Still, the fact that no one had any broken bones or major wounds was a miracle. “You alright kiddo?” Tony asked, noticing the way she was leaning against the door, her eyes closed.

“I’m fine, just tired.” He shrugged. It was unusual for her, but she had a right to be tired. Clint glanced in the rearview mirror, but didn’t say anything. The car ride was only a half hour, but twenty minutes in she was asleep. Now Clint was worried. She rarely slept in front of someone else besides him.

“Can you scan her?” Tony pressed a button on his watch and a small beam of light ran over her body. She didn’t stir. He looked down at the readings.

“Step on the gas.” He tapped the comm in his ear. “Bruce, I’m sending you some data. Natasha’s been poisoned. ETA less than ten.” Clint’s foot was nearly on the floor. Tony reached over, carefully taking her wrist to feel her pulse. It was weak. “Natasha, I need you to look at me. Let me see.” She groaned, her eyes fluttering open. “I need to look at your stomach.” His hands moved to the bottom of her shirt.

“No, please,” she whispered. He flinched at how small she sounded. She tried to brush his hands away but she didn’t have the strength. She was going downhill fast.

“I’m sorry, I know.” He lifted her shirt just enough to see the wound, one of her hands weakly clutching his wrist. “It must have been on the knife, her skin looks infected here.” He let go of her shirt but she still held his wrist. He felt her forehead with his other hand. She was cold, but there were beads of sweat on her skin. He felt her hand shaking on his arm. “You’re gunna be alright, Red. Relax.” He unbuckled her as Clint pulled the car in front of the med bay. The archer was at her door quickly, picking her up in his arms. He rushed in to meet Bruce. Tony followed them in and walked over to the scientist. They leaned over the screen, throwing around names of chemicals only they would understand. Clint set Natasha down on a bed. He was mumbling softly to her, his fingers stroking the back of her hand. He grabbed a bucket just in time as she rolled over on her side and threw up.

“Shh, it’s alright, it’s alright.” She didn’t have the strength to feel embarrassed. She curled up, clutching her stomach. She squeezed her eyes shut. “Anything?” He shot the other guys a look, hoping they knew what was wrong. He didn’t know how much time they had. She didn’t look good. Bruce was pouring something into another vial of liquid.

“I got it, Clint. I need to put an IV in her and she’ll be okay.”

“Please,” she whispered. There were tears on her cheeks now. Bruce walked to her side, gently taking one of her hands.

“Nat I have to put an IV in. Try to stay still, okay?” She nodded, letting him slide the needle into her hand. She was shaking, but he got it on the first try and hooked it up to a bag of the liquid he had mixed up. He set her hand back down on the bed. Tony watched her vitals on the screen.

“Do you want us to give you a sedative? We still have to clean out your cut.”

“No.” Her voice was firm. Clint said something to her quietly in Russian but she shook her head. He pulled her shirt up and she winced when it stuck to her skin.

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m going to give you a shot by the wound to numb the area, okay?” Bruce asked. She nodded. “Clint, I need you to hold her still.” He did as he was asked, one hand on her hip and one on her chest. He hated having to do this to her. He immediately felt her tense and knew she was panicking. Bruce made quick work of the shot and Clint let her go. She grabbed at his arm.

“I know, it’s okay. Breathe.” He sat back down in the chair next to her so he could be closer. He kissed her forehead and he saw her visibly relax. Bruce poured something on a rag and pressed it to the cut. She didn’t seem to mind. Clint glanced at the IV drip. It was almost empty. “How are you feeling?”

“Confused,” she replied honestly. “Tired.” She hesitated, then said something in Russian. Scared. He brushed her hair back from her forehead.

“We’re almost done. You’ll feel better soon. Close your eyes and try to relax.” She did, and the pain and exhaustion drove her to sleep.

She woke up several hours later, still in the med bay. Clint was the only one there with her now. He was hunched over in his chair, his head in his hands. The monitors beeped softly, but her vitals had been good for a while. The antidote had worked. “You look like shit.” His eyes shot up when she realized she was awake. “Isn’t there supposed to be jello?” He laughed.

“You hungry?”

“Yeah, starving.” He slowly helped her sit up. “I feel disgusting. I need a shower.”

“Take it easy. You’ll be tired for a while, but you’ll be alright. The antidote did it’s job.” They looked towards the door as Bruce and Tony walked in.

“Got the alert that you were awake. How are you feeling?” Tony asked.

“Tired, hungry, a little bit achy.” Bruce took her hand, sliding out the IV and placing a bandaid on top. She’s quiet for a minute. “Thank you. All of you.” She says it honestly. Bruce smiled in reply.

“Just glad to have you back, Red.” She rolled her eyes at Tony’s nickname for her, but she wasn’t mad.

“Let’s go upstairs and I’ll make some of that spaghetti you like,” Clint offered.

“Great, I’m starving!”

“Not for you, Tony!” She knew he would make enough for everyone anyway. As he helped her up, she looked around. She was so grateful for her friends. Her family.

[thirsty-flygirl]

Falling for You

Formerly Idiots

Part IV: See You Around

Poe Dameron x f!Reader

AN: Here is my first and favorite series, back with a new title and a few adjustments to make it more reader-friendly.

Warnings: Language for now. 18+ Only. 

Tag Requests: @capbrie @jitterbugs927 @1950schick @saays-bitch​ @wasicskosgirl @brandyllyn

Words: 1335

Part I  II  III

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

You sighed and kicked your feet back and forth, perched on the edge of your hospital bed while the doctor ran you through a final check. 

“Okay, follow my finger,” she said, moving it slowly back and forth in front of your face. Your eyes felt a little like they might fall out of your head, but you weren’t going to tell her that. She gave a satisfied smile and stepped back. “Everything looks good. Just take it easy for the next couple of days and make sure you let me know if anything changes.”

You smiled gratefully and slid off the bed as she walked away. Finding your bearings, you slowly made your way back to your quarters, counting the steps until you could lie back down and rest. 

A wave of relief swept through you when you reached your door, followed by the sinking realization that you had no clue where your scan key had wandered off to in the midst of last night’s events.

“Just the woman I was looking for.”

Your head jerked up at the sound of Poe’s voice and a groan escaped you as a wave of pain roared through your skull. Vision black around the edges, you shot a hand out to brace yourself against the wall.

“Ohhhhh, too fast,” you whimpered, your stomach twisting nauseously.

“Shit!” You felt Poe’s arm reach around your waist, holding you up against the firm plane of his chest. “Sweetheart, are you okay?” Even unable to see his face, the evident concern lacing his deep voice made your stomach flip. A short beep and a hiss indicated that somehow Poe had gotten your door open and you kept your eyes closed as you let him help you inside. Once you felt the soft mattress behind your knees you sank down, waiting for the fuzz to clear. 

Breathing deeply, you raised your gaze to Poe, noticing the worry on his face. “Hey, I’m sorry about that,” you murmured, afraid that speaking too loud would send you reeling again. You smiled wryly. “I guess I’m not quite a hundred percent yet.” 

Poe smiled softly and ran a thumb over your cheekbone. “Sweetheart, you don’t need to apologize. I’m just glad you’re okay.”

You sat quietly for a moment, just enjoying the feeling of his skin against yours, the intimacy of the gesture making your heart skip. As you gazed at him, realization dawned on you. 

“Hey, why did you have my key?”

Poe smiled sheepishly and sat next to you on the small bunk. “I grabbed it last night before I left the medbay. I . . . uh . . .,” he trailed off and ran a hand over his face. You waited expectantly for him to finish, stealing a moment to admire his profile. Dark curls falling down across his forehead, long lashes framing those deep brown eyes that made you a little weak in the knees, the curve of his nose and the strong line of his jaw. Even coming off a concussion you could unequivocally state that Poe Dameron was the sexiest, most beautiful man you’d ever seen.

“I took your key last night because I wanted to surprise you. I had it all planned out, I would help you back to your room, and then I could take care of you while you rested . . .there were supposed to be flowers . . .” Poe shrugged and looked at you, disappointment written across his face. “I got hung up in a strategy meeting for our next mission and by the time I got here, you were here, and I nearly made you pass out again, and I’m-”

“–You were there?” Your eyes narrowed slightly as you tried to arrange the events of last night into some semblance of a memory. Bits and pieces swam to the surface, but you had no recollection of Poe in the disjointed mess. “I can’t remember anything at all about last night,” you confessed, “I remember looking at your instrument panel and then I woke up this morning in the medbay.” A horrifying thought washed over you. 

“Did I say something stupid? Those drugs were pretty good. . . oh, Maker, what did I do?” 

The low light of your room made Poe’s eyes glitter, twin amber pools spreading warmth across your skin, making you melt under his stare.

“You don’t remember anything?” 

Disappointment coated Poe’s words. He stood and anxiously crossed the span of your small room, before whirling back to you. “Nothing?”

“I’m sorry for whatever I said or did,” you sighed, feeling embarrassed and, all of a sudden, shy. Your crush on Poe had deepened into something you were loath to name, and it terrified you. The easy flirtation between the two of you was one thing; it was fun and sexy and you loved every second of it, but falling in love? Letting him know the deepest parts of your soul, the parts that you hid, the desires and hopes that lay within your heart? You couldn’t make that jump, despite the tiny voice in your head calling you out loud and clear.

You shrugged self-deprecatingly and offered him a crooked grin. “I apologize for whatever I said, Poe. I swear I didn’t mean any of it.” 

His heavy eyebrows drew together, gaze lingering intently on your face. “You didn’t mean it?”

Raising your palms, you laughed softly. “I plead temporary insanity due to head trauma.” 

Letting out a huff, Poe’s head dropped to his chest. “Temporary insanity. Of course you didn’t mean it.” He shook his head and raised his gaze to yours, his eyes full of an emotion you couldn’t identify.

A kernel of recognition flickered in your brain, pieces of last night’s events slowly slotting into place. Jessika’s voice. The sharp, jolting pain in your skull. Poe’s arms, holding you close. The worry you heard in his voice, the feeling of his hand holding yours, the moment you admitted—

“Poe,” you whispered, “what did I say to you last night?” 

His response was cut off as the comm on his wrist beeped shrilly in the quiet of your quarters. Poe blinked at you, eyes scanning your face for a moment, searching for something in your expression. You rose on shaky legs and took a step toward him. “Poe, I–”

“–I have to go,” he muttered, running a hand through his curls. “I guess I’ll see you around?” 

You frowned at his words. “See me around? Poe, are you upset with–”

“–Nope, not at all,” he spoke over you again. “We’re good. You said something . . . just . . . look, I get it. You were out of it last night.” He turned toward the door and struck the panel to open the door much harder than necessary, throwing a terse “bye” over his shoulder before walking out. 

You stood in the middle of your small room and watched him go, staring after him with a sinking heart as your door closed. You had seriously fucked something up, you just weren’t quite sure what it was. A shimmery, nebulous memory of admitting to Poe that you wanted to kiss him swam around in your brain, but you couldn’t understand his reaction to your words. He left mad, of that you were certain. 

Maybe you’d misread everything? The signals, the flirting, the looks shared over the past weeks? Maybe he didn’t feel the same way you did, and your drugged confession had somehow set him off? You knew Poe had a little bit of a temper, but you stupidly blurting out your attraction to him wouldn’t piss him off like that. 

Right?

The entire situation made your head ache again. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, lying back down on your bunk to get some rest. You would figure everything out with Poe when you saw him next. It had to be a misunderstanding. You chuckled to yourself as you drew the thin, rough blanket up to your chin. 

At least you hadn’t told him you were falling in love with him.