#Two sets of lyrics? Who are you!? Krennic?!

[smolbeandrabbles]

Yellin’ From The Rooftop - Malcolm Bench x Reader (Vertical Limit)

Author’s Note: Okay, stop complaining at me, Mal, now you really ARE the last Mendo.  I suppose just because of what I’m talking about half the time, it’s a Modern!AU?  (like you couldn’t do this until 2012...) Also you might need to know a little bit about Up At The O2. I literally was half way up when I got this idea...

Disclaimer: Vertical Limit / Characters / Lyrics not mine (Because if it was, we would have pushed Elliot Vaughn off a freakin’ cliff...) Premise: Malcolm is back from K2 base camp, and you figured you can give him a similar Summiting experience closer to home... with mixed results! Words: 2425 Warnings: Swearing / Sexual Connotations

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It's something that I never felt And I can't keep it to myself You got me yellin' from the rooftop, so everybody knows I'm falling for you baby, Never letting you go I'm screaming from the mountain, gonna sing it everywhere Yeah, you can call me crazy, baby I don't care Can you hear me, hear me Yellin' from the rooftop Tellin' the whole world... You can call me lady lucky, I know I've been blessed Your kissin' got my heart beatin' out of my chest It's easy like breathin', you make me come alive But it's a whole lot more than just a feeling inside It's love, no shadow of doubt So true I gotta let it out

---

Is the end of all the endings? My broken bones are mending With all these nights we're spending Up on the roof with a school girl crush Drinking beer out of plastic cups Say you fancy me, not fancy stuff Baby, all at once, this is enough  ---

!Welcome Malcolm to the Australian Bois with London Girlfriends club! On a rare break from consistently summiting K2, whether it be with his brother or as a guide, Malcolm was flying home. Although really he wasn’t even flying home. He was flying to you. In London. As expected, you had met him on one such K2 excursion years back and you’d kept in touch. And keeping in touch led to other things and now you’d been back to K2 innumerable times. And the two of you were certainly together. Malcolm liked London, on the few occasions he’d been. Only this time you had a surprise for him you thought he might enjoy, as a mountaineer. Sure, you could drive him to summit something a little smaller elsewhere in the UK but, there was something right here in London that you thought would be just as good.  But maybe you’d thought too much or got to excited or thought he might enjoy it a little too much. Because you were met with a blank stare and a fairly grumpy face; “What?!” Your question was innocent enough “We’re doing what?!” “Climbing the O2!” “...The venue...?” He blinked slowly and raised an eyebrow, “Why would we wanna do that...?” “It’ll be fun!” You tried not to sound so disheartened “...Fun?” He places his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels; “I climb stuff every day...” None the less your enthusiasm allowed you to drag him across London. “Mal! You’ll see the sky line from up there!” He indicated to the high-rise window of your apartment; “I can see it from here!” “But you’ll be outside in the middle of it all in climbing gear...!”  Malcolm sighed gently and gave a kiss to your forehead, trying not to roll those pretty brown eyes of his again. And fought the urge to tell you that if he wanted to climb and see skylines, he wouldn’t be at K2 all the time. *** So here you were, day of, and really excited. And Malcolm trying his best to (obviously) fake it didn’t even deter your spirits. Sure, you had also done K2 before but you didn’t live there all climbing season like he did. It wasn’t your life’s work. Most of the time you had a normal city job, climbing was more of a hobby to you.  You spent a lot of the short briefing watching his face. And you could see him fluctuating between bored out of his mind and dying to ask which mountains your guide had climbed before to be such an expert at this. Like Malcolm didn’t just get up in the morning, put his stuff on and decided to take a leisurely stroll somewhere across K2. Especially as K2 was so technical. This would be easier than a walk in the park for him and both of you knew it. He was incredibly silent as he got ready. In about 5 seconds. And left you playing catch up. Alright show off, why don’t you lead the expedition!? You knew the only reason he wasn’t mouthing off was because of you; which you supposed was at least a little endearing. Still, it got him noticed, and you watched the guide, Kirsty, pull him aside: “Gotta say that was quick! You done this before?!” Malcolm gave a laugh “Uh, similar...” “Oh really?! Like what-!?” “I, uh...” He looked back to you like he needed permission to show off. Clipped into place you were the second person done; you gave him a gentle nod, to which you received a grin. You supposed he’d agreed to come after all that whining, so he deserved to brag a little bit;  “...I spend a portion of my year up at K2 base camp with my brother...!” “Sh—oot! Really!?” “Mm hmm...!” Though it was obvious that Malcolm was going to bask in the glory of this. “Gotta say I’m impressed. Everest is the tall one but K2 is the harder right?” “Yeah. K2 is my favourite...though she might hit me if I say otherwise...!” You eyed him at that; here he goes again, curse me for letting him!! “She also a mountaineer?” “Nah-! But I did meet here there!” “NAH-!?” You repeated, walking over and smacking his arm, “Nah-!?” “Uh... that’s... not exactly your job is it!” You raised an eyebrow at him, he could talk considering him and his brothers antics; “It’s laughable you call it a job.” “I’ll have you know-!” “Okayyy!” Kirsty laughed, “I don’t want to be responsible for a /break/ up at the O2!” You and Malcolm both made the same painful sound before laughing. Which made her smile; at least you were both fans of terrible puns!   ***  “So who wants to lead?” There was silence as any nerves set in for those around you; and Malcolm blew a breath out.   “I’ll do it.” Well, now he just looked like the loud-mouth flaunty Australian; but he didn’t care. Still he didn’t manage to escape you giving him a look. He probably wanted to get this over as soon as possible, you weren’t sure you’d forgive him for that one easily. “Oh...” Kirsty laughed, “I guess that makes sense!” She latched him onto the cabling and folded her arms; “You know if you lead you’re also responsible for getting people off at the end, right?” You knew that was the wrong choice of words by the way he tried and failed to hold back a smirk. “Darlin’, I’m a mountaineer... I think I got this...” but then he playfully nudged you, “responsible for gettin’ people off... Y/N!” You scoffed; “Ha! Getting people off, my ass.” “You fu-” You placed your hand over his mouth, knowing what was coming from the glint in his brown eyes; “You don’t have to tell everyone in London Town Malcolm!!” He gave a shrug, turning to look up to the minuscule summit as if it was K2 all over again; “I reckon you’re pretty loud enough to tell everyone in base camp...” “MALCOLM!” Your embarrassed exclamation only served to have him laugh loudly, which drew more attention to the two of you. “Don’t worry babe...” he turned with a wink “I’m pretty loud too!” Oh yeah like that helped. As expected from an experienced mountain climber, and you determined to stay hot on his heels after that initial she’s not a mountaineer comment, you and Malcolm were half way up in barely any time at all. He stopped and turned around, fixing you with his brown eyes; “What?!” “F**king look at this-! This is what you’ve made me a part of...!” You turned, realising how far back the rest of the group were. “Oh.” “Yeah f**king oh - this is unbelievable! I could do this eyes closed and backwards..!” You folded your arms; “Why don’t you then?!” He squinted at you, you’d watched that safety video too, right? “Thems the rules sweetheart.” “Oh!” There was surprise in your sarcasm; “I didn’t realise you played by the rules!” “Oh, don’t you start on me!” “I always start on you.” He tipped his head and frowned in agreement. “Eh. True.” You waited against the wire support for everyone to at least catch up a little. Malcolm muttering to himself about how he’d be at the top of K2 by now, and you every so often jabbing his side because you were a little sick of his complaining. As soon as everyone was within a few feet of you again he was off, without a care in the world. And you had to roll your eyes; I swear to god Malcolm Bench... Once you got to the top Kirsty decided she’d come up and help you out.  “...Now at the climax of your journey.” Malcolm raised an eyebrow at her, with that same smirk. And even you hid your snort behind your hand. “Well now you’re just doing it on f**king purpose.” She gave a little shrug; “Who can say...” Undoing the chain to the platform and uncoupling him from the bars, she gave him a smile. “You’re free, mountaineer!” “Uh-! I thought I was supposed to be getting everyone off-!” You leant on the rail yourself, smirking at the perfect opportunity presenting itself; “Aw, c’mon Mal, you can’t have all the fun now...” Kirsty couldn’t help but laugh loudly at your comment, and he looked between the two of you. Trying to remain unimpressed; “Oh I see, you two are out to get me.” “Got that right...” She pushed him onto the platform without a second thought and turned to you; “You’re a saint.” “Oh. I know...” you stepped up and let her uncouple you; “Think you’re getting me off better than he would.” Malcolm folded his arms, but he was grinning; “You’re f**king unbelievable! Both of you!” ***  You knew he was trying not to say it was impressive. But the way he swivelled around the little platform let you know that he was. Holding a plastic glass of champagne in his hands made him look the part - but also so out of place - and you couldn’t help almost crack up. Once he was satisfied he’d taken in the Skyline view, he turned his attention to a better one and strolled over to you. “Well, now I feel like a Champagne connoisseur...” “Oh yeah, and look like one.” He pushed you gently with his elbow, “Sarcasm?! Now that’s not very nice is it!” Malcolm cleared his throat “...Here I am on my roof top, exclusive and private... looking out over London Town... thinking about where my private jet might be taking me next.” “Back to K2?” “Was that a question? you wanna go... or just a suggestion.” “Would you take me back?” “Hell yeah!!” Those brown eyes brightened considerably, “... Question is are we leaving Cyril at base camp?” “That’s...” you tried not to smile at the look on his face, “...uh. Mean!” “I think he’d rather not be there, don’t you!?” “I dunno! He’s alright, I like him.” “Look, just f**king agree to come!” A second smile threatened, “Mmmmm... What exactly are you asking me to agree to?” If you could take a snap shot of his picture-perfect realisation, and wicked grin, then you would; “F**k me...! Bad girl...” he took a sip of champagne, “Later...” “That’s the idea...” That caused Malcolm to almost choke, and he glared at you with that smirk on your face “... Yes, I’ll climb K2 with you again, babe.” He clinked his plastic glass against yours “I’ll drink to that... babe.” You watched him wander around the platform with his phone, taking pictures and couldn't help but follow his footsteps giggling. "What's so funny?!" "You and whatever you're doing!" "I'm sending photographed to my brother!!" "Oh - uh huh?" You folded your arms, "Can't be that bad if you're giving Cyril the ’Look Where I Am’ treatment." Malcolm opened his mouth to somewhat agree with you, realised that was a bad move and narrowed his eyes, pointing at you instead; "Not that I would ever concede that point!" You shook your head with a small smile at his defiance. Oh Malcolm. Your mistake is thinking you can only concede verbally...  ***  After being hooked back to the climbing apparatus, Malcolm was surprisingly quiet for most of the way down. Kirsty (for some reason) trusted him enough to make his own way with you; and now he had a lot to think about. He would be going back to base camp in a few weeks - could he get you out before the season was over? He sure hoped so; but then how much planning and logistics would that take? Suddenly he stopped, realising that he should be enjoying the moment with you rather than pondering what happens next, and you almost crashed into him. "Mal-! Think before you stop babe!!" He raised an eyebrow as he turned, at the irony of that sentence. "I was thinking..." "Oh..." He realised he'd played right into it, when you smirked and responded with "Makes a nice change..." Malcolm wasn't even going to give you the satisfaction of a smile at that, and instead held his hand out "Come on... Let me help you down..." You were hesitant for the notion of him trying to throw you off the side, or trip you up on purpose - but you realised why he was asking for your hand. He'd done the same thing on your first ascent of K2 together. "That's sweet of you..." You took his offer, threading your fingers with his; "...I could really use some help getting down... I'm glad I found a guide just in time." That one was clearly for his Ego, and it worked by the smile on his face, but he remained quiet. He wouldn't tell you to shut up just yet... When you got to the bottom, he nigh on made you run the steepest section. And slowed up to free himself. "Thank GOD that's over!!!" He said loud enough to hope Kirsty also heard it, and beckoned you towards him. There was a threatening look on your face and he thought he might get hit again, mercifully you decided against that.  He released you gently but kept ahold of your harness for his punchline; "See, I'm a good guy. I get my girlfriend off first!" You tried not to laugh at that, but then hit him for making you laugh so he was no better off; only this time he laughed along.  "She better be the only one you get off!!" "Ahhhh---! I mean, no promises! That is my job..." He let you go, "But I mean, yeah... I'm pretty sure you promised me later." "How the hell does anyone ever get you to shut up?" Malcolm tipped his head, with a grin and a laugh "hmmm... Get me off, maybe?" "Oh, for God’s sake!" You leant forward and kissed him. "...Oh yeah..." Now his voice was quiet "...that... might work..." You both stepped away for a minute, and he took your hand back in his as you raised your eyes back to the 'summit.' "Another mountain to check of the list... Mal." "Oh for sure, and as difficult as any other..." He gave a smile and pulled you closer into him; "...K2 next...?" "Oh... It'll be a walk in the park after this one..." You both laughed, but he nudged you gently "I dunno... Some stuff’s just easier with you around, ain't it..." You shot him a look "Don't you start..." He grinned, looking back to that brilliant London skyline; "... What, would you rather I was joking?" ---

@dennismitchell @happyskywhale @wltz-bby #MendoTagSquad.

[mandy23bwrites]

I Don’t Wanna Be Your Friend (I Wanna Kiss Your Lips)

It came to my attention recently that there are no Iden Versio x Reader fics. So here’s my little attempt to rectify that because as cute as she is with Del, sometimes I want this badass lady all to myself.

Fandom: Star Wars, Battlefront II

Character/Pairing: Iden Versio (Imperial) x Reader

Tags/Warnings: Gender Neutral Reader, Swooning, Kissing

Disclaimer: 1) Title is lyrics from the song “i wanna be your girlfriend” by girl in red. 2) I have not read “Battlefront II: Inferno Squad” yet. This is based solely on the campaign of “Star Wars: Battlefront II”

Word Count: 1551

Summary: No one can get you to melt like Iden Versio. Being around her in the presence of others is hard enough but alone? It’s even worse. And then she does something unexpected...

Readable on AO3 here

“Officer!”

You look up to see a black helmet hurtling at you. You gasp and squeeze your eyes shut, your arms instinctually flying up to lessen the blow. There’s a ‘thump’ but no impact and after a moment, you peer around your hands to find the helmet has stopped mere inches from hitting you. Your stomach drops to see that it was caught by none other than Commander Iden Versio, the very woman you’ve been crushing on for months now. She’s glaring in the direction of Agent Hask who pays no notice to what he’s done, quickly stripping off his armor and throwing it on your work table.

“I’ll be back to pick these up later,” he says offhandedly, not even bothering to look in your direction. You reach out and take the helmet from Iden’s hand as you both watch Hask retreat.

“Thank you, Commander,” you murmur, glancing at her. 

She gives you a curt nod. “You’re welcome.” Turning away, she walks over to one of your cabinets and pulls out your polishing equipment as Agent Meeko joins you.

Occupying a small room off the ship's armory, you’re part of the uniform and armor division, tasked with making sure the officers are presentable and the troopers are ready for battle. However, your acute attention to detail meant you had been promoted to the status of a specialist, focusing on the uniforms and armor of the elite. And some of those elite are the Inferno Squad. 

Troopers almost always polished their own armor, very particular about how it was done. Unfortunately, when you had offered to polish Iden’s armor after a particularly brutal mission where she had broken her arm, Agent Hask had been in earshot and decided it was a generalized, long term offer. Now, every time they returned from a mission, Hask dumped his armor on you to repair and polish, not to be bothered to do it himself. So what had started as trying to do a favor for the woman you liked had turned into an unnecessary chore. 

It wasn’t too bad though. Agent Meeko had been around a couple of times when Hask dropped his armor off and began sticking around to polish his armor while you worked on his squadmate’s. You hadn’t realized how lonely your work could be until you befriended Del. It was nice to have someone to talk to. Whether it was venting, joking, or gossiping, you and Del had spent several hours bonding over swapped stories. And then Iden began to join you. Apparently, Del had mentioned you enough times that she was curious to see who he was spending time with.

Now you were almost never alone when tasked with after-mission polishing and repairs. Del was a comforting presence but Iden… she could put your stomach in knots with the mere sound of her voice. She wasn’t much to talk but when she did, you hung onto every word. Her tone deep and rich, sending shivers down your spine. You may have been captured by her attractiveness at first but learning how persistent, brave, and intelligent she was had you swooning even harder. 

You were absolutely certain that the entire damn Empire knew about your crush, especially the commander herself (which was mortifying in itself), due to the way you frequently stumbled over your words or blushed vibrant red in her presence. It got even worse when it was just the two of you, and it looked like that’s how today was going to be.

Del is somber as he enters, barely able to meet your eyes; it’s a sure sign that he needs to process the latest mission alone. You give him a gentle smile that he tries to return. He trudges over to where Iden is, grabs a couple of things, and gives a small wave as he too exits.

And so you’re left alone with Iden. You watch as she finishes grabbing equipment. It’s hard to decipher what’s going on in her head; her stoicism made her hard to read but something seems off about her too. You know you aren’t going to get much conversation out of her today.

She settles on the opposite side of your work table and you both begin to work in silence. Awkwardness hangs in the air like a thick smog but you didn’t know what to say without embarrassing yourself. When you’re wiping down the helmet’s visor, Iden sets her own helmet down with a ‘thud’ and looks up at you. Your stomach twists as you meet her piercing gaze. She looks almost... vulnerable... as you take her in up close.

“Can you talk about something? Anything.”

You nod and after a fair bit of stuttering, you decide to tell her how Ensign Roe had completely mixed up an order of rank insignia plaques and now you have the painstaking job of trying to sort it out. And how you need to make Director Krennic a new cape because he insisted he couldn’t go another rotation in a cape that was beginning to fray. After that, you catch her up on the newest gossip circulating, especially the latest scandal where Lieutenant Inji’s two girlfriends had not only found out about each other and dumped him but then started dating each other.

All the while she listens intently; buffing, painting, sealing her armor. Then you tell her how some of the officers thought it would be funny to send a poor new transfer down a garbage chute and you’re seriously considering just launching the uniform out of an airlock if you aren’t able to get the smell out. 

She rewards you with a laugh and you beam. By then you’re both finished and Iden doesn’t look as wary as she had before. You simultaneously push back your chairs and begin to pack up the kits in a silence that’s much more comfortable than it was before. It’s a routine you’re both familiar with, taking only a couple moments to clear the table. When a couple bottles remain on the table, you break the quiet air.

“I can handle the rest from here, Commander; why don’t you go rest while you have some time off? I’m sure they’ll be assigning you to a new mission soon enough.” She gives you a half-smile and nods, turning back to her armor. Grabbing the last few polish bottles, you walk over to the cabinets and tuck them into their spots. You hear shuffling behind you and assume Iden’s grabbed her gear and snuck out. But when you turn around, she’s right there, inches away.

You gasp and take a step back, directly into the cabinets. You back presses into cool metal, heart pounding. Before you get a chance to wonder if she’s a threat to you, she takes a slow step into your space and places her hands on either side of your head. 

“C-commander?” She leans in close, a smirk playing across her lips. Her eyes are locked with yours until they slowly drift downwards. She tilts her head and it feels like your fantasies are becoming reality as Iden Versio kisses you.

You’re shocked, unable to move as a deep blush sets in. She pulls away, brown eyes gauging your reaction.

“Iden…” you breathe her name and surge forward, capturing her lips with yours. 

She hesitates, as if to collect herself, then quickly regains control over you (which you’re more than happy to allow). She moves her hands to grip your waist and pulls your body into hers as your kisses grow in enthusiasm. You grab fistfuls of her flight suit sleeves, trying not to shake under her touch. 

You had often wondered what kissing Iden would be like; would she be aggressive or gentle? Every stroke of her tongue erases the word ‘gentle’ from your mind. Forcing her knee between your thighs, you gasp and she takes the opportunity to kiss down your jaw, pulling an involuntary whimper from you. 

It’s when she moves her attention to your neck that you hear the steady thump of approaching boots and you tear yourselves apart. She bolts towards her armor and you whip open a cabinet behind you to try and look busy.

Agent Hask walks in, oblivious to what he’s just interrupted.

“These good to go?” He asks, gesturing to his armor. You’re doing your best to hide behind the cabinet door so you’re mostly obscured, quite sure you’re once again completely red in the face. 

“Yep, it’s all ready!” You manage to choke out. He raises an eyebrow at your strained response but says nothing as he collects his things and begins to walk away. Stopping in the doorway, he turns back momentarily.

“Oh, Iden; the Admiral wants to do a mission recap with you ASAP.”

“Understood.” She begins to gather her own armor and you’re left watching them leave, still reeling from what just happened. How can she be so composed after that?! You suppose that’s why she’s special forces and you’re not, especially since your legs now feel like they’re made of gelatin.

Before she leaves your sight, Iden looks over her shoulder and flashes you with a smirk, leaving you to wonder what the hell the future is going to hold the next time she pays you a visit...

[jynappreciationsquad]

Valley of the Clueless

Two and a half minutes, according to her father’s watch, and only on days where the weather was passable enough not to spoil the feeling, of course.

That was Jyn’s freedom for the day.

The way from the run-down student residence to the university library was a short but strenuous bike ride, and every day she hated the trip with a fierce passion as she forced her old bike uphill, and it was mostly the thought of the way back that kept her going.

The experiments in class kept her occupied – she was good at what she did, very good, in fact, and she loved it. But she was still trapped, between those people with the party pins that had bought their university place, trapped between the walls of derelict old buildings, trapped underneath the watchful eyes of passers-by, of her professors, her roommates. Trapped underneath her parents’ acts of rebellion. Trapped, in the end, like everyone else, between barbed wire, thanks to having been born some one-hundred and seventy kilometres too far to the north-east.

But this, these two and a half minutes downhill on the old bike with the brakes that screeched ever since Bodhi wasn’t around anymore to oil them the way he used to – this was the one thing that would restore her sanity, her happiness, even. And unless they locked her up, nobody was going to take this from her, even if they seemed dead set on taking everything else. The day after they told her Bodhi had left, she pretended to have forgotten a book at the library. So she got a full five minutes that evening, to battle the emptiness.

That little bike ride was a taste of what she’d lost, or maybe never had. There was a sudden, bright flash of all the things she longed for, everything she wouldn’t admit under torture she missed, in the rush of the wind on her face, the way it tore at her clothes. You could go down Berg street and almost all of Gagarin street, nearly all the way to the train station through the rows of crumbling facades, without ever having to pedal. It was like flying.

For two and a half minutes.

It wasn’t her only luxury, of course, it seemed people would never tire of telling her that, but it sure was the only one that felt luxurious.

She supposed there was little point in wondering if she owed her continued student status to Krennic or her professors intervening on her behalf – she was a good student, and worked harder than anyone else in the class. She had to, and she was used to it; it was hard for children of academics to get into the EOS, let alone university. And for someone whose mother had applied for a permanent relocation to the West and then attempted to escape when she was predictably denied, it should have been impossible. Even if, like her, you were an outstandingly active FDJ member and the kind of party member that took private notes at a meeting. Her academic career was always balancing on the edge of a knife, and it really should have long since toppled – if not after her mother’s death, then after her father fled. And now that she knew a third person who had left for the West… well, all her playing the good avid socialist and all her otherwise doubtlessly pristine Stasi files be damned, she imagined it must have cost Krennic quite some effort to allow her to stay at university, and she wasn’t keen on finding out what he might wind up asking in return.

Anyway, the new semester was due to start in just a few more days, and a crisp and bright January turned into February so quietly she had barely even noticed. It was eerie, how little had changed.

She hadn’t seen her father a lot even before – well, before everything. They’d taken her away from him after her mother left, of course, and even if neither of them had seemed very sorry about the lack of quality time in the last few years, she wasn’t about to thank them for it. Her father had said he was sorry, obviously, but if he’d had enough sway to keep her in school, get her into the TU, then they would have let him see her too if he’d asked. Which he clearly hadn’t, and she could hardly blame him. What would they have talked about? Her mother? Hardly. His work? Her studies? The stupid FDJ projects, maybe? And anyway, now he was gone; probably sat in some beautiful library in a big gleaming city, with all the books he’d been trying and failing to get his hands on for years.

And his daughter was still here, still cycling up Berg Street on her squeaky, rust-stained bike, the houses around her still as grey as the sky above them, chips of plaster missing around the corners and the windowsills. She’d go up to the library to follow up on her lectures, and then she’d go back before it got too dark to see the deep cracks in the concrete. She couldn’t really afford crashing into some professor’s coveted Wartburg, or ruining her bike for that matter. If her roommates weren’t too loud, she might manage to read a bit more. That was, if Annett had finally got her hands on a new lightbulb. That wasn’t usually something they were short on, but the damn fixture was broken and burned through a bulb a month.

Nothing had changed, really. Except that, on the weekend, there would be no letter from Bodhi. And on none of the weekends after that.

People got mail from the West, sure; even from people who’d fled the republic. But not her. If Bodhi bothered to write to her, she would bet everything she owned – however little that amounted to – that those letters would go straight to a desk in the Ministry of State Security, and stay there for a while. And that didn’t really matter either because he probably wouldn’t write, anyway – it had usually been Bodhi who had kept her out of trouble when they were kids, and he wouldn’t risk her fragile comfort, not even to let her know he was safe.

Jyn wondered if she should be grateful for that, too.

She was back just before the rest of her roommates, which was a rare but pleasant occurrence. The autonomy over the radio station didn’t mean much to her, it wasn’t like you could get an interesting station down in the valley anyways, but having the two small rooms that she shared with the other three girls to herself was nice.

Not being watched by anyone, for a little while, was nice.

Of course, it didn’t last very long. After a blissful thirty minutes that Jyn had had alone with her cup of tea, a key jostled in the lock, then Annett came in, dropped her bag and jacket by the door and tossed a small stack of letters onto the kitchen counter.

Jyn filed idly through the letters. There was the usual one for Kathrin, from her boyfriend who was doing a tour with the NVA, judging by the Cyrillic letters in the stamp currently somewhere abroad; the obligatory letter from Tanja’s mother, who clearly had too much time and paper on her hands.

None for her. It wasn’t surprising, of course; but it stung all the same.

“No letter for you today?”

“No.”

Annett seemed to catch something in her tone and leaned over the small table with interest. “You guys have a fight or something?”

“What?”

“Your boy, who keeps writing to you. Bernhard, right?”

Jyn wondered why her leave-me-alone face suddenly didn’t seem to work anymore.

“He writes you every week.”

“So?”

Annett shrugged, impervious to her cold tone, then got out a rumpled pack of cigarettes and opened the little window with some effort. “So he didn’t this week. Did you fight?”

“No.” Jyn sighed, watched Annett fiddle with her lighter and wondered how much chance there was Annett would let this go. Slim to none, sadly. “And he’s not… we were friends. At least I thought that.”

“But?”

Jyn shrugged and got to her feet. She didn’t mind Annett. She might have even liked her; more than the other two girls anyway. And she certainly didn’t strike her as a likely Stasi informant, Annett with her posters from New York and her record collection and her jeans and her parade of useless boyfriends. But then, wasn’t that the point of a spy? Bottom line was, you couldn’t be too careful.

You also couldn’t look like you were holding anything back, though.

“He made for the West,” Jyn said flatly, decided on her strategy.

“What?”

“Yeah. He was border patrol. Cut and ran, they said.” She shook her head and gathered her books. “Wouldn’t want letters from someone like that anyway.”

Annett eyed her, looking doubtful. “Right,” she replied quietly and let some embers rain down onto the pavement, then added in a would-be conversational tone: “I got coffee. Nine damn mark the quarter pound, can you believe that?”

Sure she could. And she bet it would still taste even worse than the coffee they had used up a few weeks ago. They said in the West, you could get coffee at half the price, and it tasted nothing like whatever old beans and burned wood chips they were selling them here.

But she didn’t repeat any of that aloud. Speaking her mind, like coffee, was a rare commodity, to be indulged in only rarely, if at all. Instead, she dutifully replied, though without real conviction: “Well, imagine we would have to pay half our wage for actual food like in the West.”

Annett threw her a pointed look, and Jyn could tell there was something at the tip of her tongue, but she didn’t say any more.

Because Jyn sure looked like the kind of person who would tell on her roommate, with her FDJ meetings and her coffees with a high party functionary and the alibi books on her empty shelves.

For the fraction of a second, she wanted not to be all of that, then she clutched her books tighter and got to her feet.

She wasn’t a bad roommate; she was quiet and tidy and she did her chores and bought groceries, and never brought visitors. She couldn’t afford to be a person her roommates liked, and most days, she didn’t let that bother her.

Annett had switched on the radio in the kitchen and Bruce Springsteen wafted through the flat, capitalist music, but regime-approved. Jyn dropped on her bed and let her eyes fall shut for a moment, idly listening to Annett fumbling with the English lyrics.

Bodhi loved Springsteen. He used to talk about the Grand Canyon, driving down Route 66 in one of those big American cars.

Maybe she should have seen it coming.

Maybe she should have known.

[freshmeatfriday]

Fresh Meat Friday ROUND UP

Hello dear Fannibals, and welcome to Fresh Meat Friday’s Roundup post for the end of March 2018! This post gathers all the recs posted on Tumblr this month under the #Fresh Meat Friday tag so they’re in one easy-to-find place. Many thanks to all who took part and congratulations to our rec’d creators! Until next time, stay hungry!

Just a quick reminder: Tumblr is often rude and doesn’t show us every rec, no matter how hard we try to find them!  If we missed yours, just send us an ask with the information and/or a link to the post, and we’ll get it on next month’s round up. :)

Giveaway Update: winners of our 1K Giveaway will be announced tomorrow!

Fic

@beatricenius rec’d by @copperore for Home “If, like myself, you live for the post S3 emotional push and pull, this fic is for you! The dialogue is moving and cutting, the smut heartfelt and a little bit vicious. Just perfect!

Zigzagwanderer rec’d by @fhimechan for Tomorrow Was Our Golden Age  “After the fall, Hannibal and Will live in a remote Baltic island while they navigate their relationship. Each story is a short lyrical piece of their life together, sometimes with a promise of violence, sometimes fluffy, always beautifully written.”

Zigzagwanderer was also rec’d by @fragile-teacup for Love is a Journey, not a Destination and Tomorrow Was Our Golden Age  “If you love beautiful, sensual Hannigram fic with a healthy dollop of angst and a huge amount of heart, then please, PLEASE give this writer a look.”

@andiemerizein rec’d by @diea-kierlyn for All for the Best “Tech problems! Mutual pining! Soccer! Ice cream! Mads’ legs! Hugh’s butt in tight bike shorts! Adorably awkward nerds! All in the California sun! Give this rare pair a chance and encourage a brand new writer who is full of great ideas!”

@strangestorys rec’d by @niakantorka for Landscape Change “Don’t we all need more Digestivo fix-its? This one is really lovely and was written for the Hannigram Holiday Exchange 2016.”

@helly-watermelonsmellinfellon rec’d by @hannibalsimago for L'amour vainqueur et la vie opportune “ The emotions and characterization is spot on. I read it three times in a row because I couldn’t get the music out of my head. It weaves throughout the story.”

@thecountessolivia rec’d by @thenecronon for Funeral of Flowers “It’s a daring AU set in 1800s Venice, and is exactly as lush and vivid as you’d expect it to be. @thecountessolivia takes us into an sensuous, mysterious world while maintaining all the integrity of the characters we love.”

@genufa rec’d by @pka42 for Black Swan “I mean, guys, Hannibal is a majestic af black swan. What more do you want?”

@aametis rec’d by @shukky for Scars “It’s an emotionally driven Post Fall fic with lots of great porn where Will deals with the fact that he is in love with Hannibal and eventually finds a way to connect to him again...the atmosphere in this fic is absolutely breathtaking and sucks you right into their quiet little cabin.”

@thecountessolivia rec’d by @crystalusagi for The Boy from the Market “This is so good and manages to be sexy despite not (yet) having any actual sex. It’s also slightly angsty and tense and psychologically thrilling, and just. Go read this now, because jealous!Will is just lovely in this.”

@diea-kierlyn rec’d by @crystalusagi for A Preference for Blood “The author manages to infuse so much characterization and so much story into what is (as of now) only 3,000 words, and it’s amazing.”

@crystalusagi rec’d by @tiggymalvern for Whatever Happens “Less then two thousand works, and she packs in so much pathos, deviousness and eroticism as Hannibal takes advantage of Will’s desperation. It’s brutal and perfect.”

@virdant rec’d by @kinkodon for As the Plant Never Blooms “I highly recommend @virdant ’s hanahaki AU Hannibal fic which I find fantastic because hanahaki is humorous to me, floral based dishes are ranked highly to me, and also because the scene of Hannibal daintily making candied violets and roses is super cute.”

boycoffin by @victorineb for If I Tell You I Love You “Some fics create a world that you never want to leave, and this is very much one of them. The Beau Morgue is a gorgeously-rendered setting, glamorous and sinister, but with a family of warm, funny, hugely engaging characters at its core.”

Art

@mooseydoodles rec’d by @redfivewritingby “Let me tell you about how much I love @mooseydoodles Galen/Krennic art for @freshmeatfriday! Mad’s cheeks look sharp enough to cut through a planet.  I love the detailing of the hair too.”

[mosylufanfic]

The Only Exception by Paramore - CassJyn

Back in April I asked people to send me a song and a ship and I would write a fic to go with one of the lyrics.

Holy shite folks, that’s hard. I still have several unfilled prompts in my inbox, taunting me with their lack of inspiration. I do not recommend it unless you’re really, really up for a challenge. But if you are, more power to ya.

Anyway, here’s one. Because I’m a glutton for punishment apparently, I went high-concept with this one and another music prompt that came in almost at the same time and wrote a duology, telling the same story from two different sides. Jyn’s side can be found here

I’m on My Way to Believing

Cassian Andor had waited for any number of transports in his time. He’d stood just like this in the hangar bay, waiting on a map, on a name, on a fellow intelligence officer he needed to rendezvous with in order to continue or begin a mission.

Until now, he’d never waited on a person, one he wanted to see just for the pleasure of seeing them, holding them, kissing them -

He swallowed hard and shifted his weight.

Until now.

He swallowed again, lecturing himself to be calm and collected. She’d been gone three weeks and four days, after all. A lot could have changed. It wasn’t as if they’d actually talked about anything that last night.

Maybe the only reason she’d come to his bunk the night before she’d left had been pre-mission jitters.

It was certainly why he’d opened the door and let her in. Although jitters seemed too small and silly of a word to apply to the sudden raw terror that she would leave and never come back. He would never know what it was like to kiss her, hold her, sleep with her in his arms - 

It had seemed so easy on Scarif. So simple to fall into step, to work in tandem, to turn to each other at what they believed was the end of the road.

But ever since they’d woken up in the hospital wing, she’d pulled away, or he had pulled away, or they had pulled away from each other. He spent his days electrifyingly aware of her and the distance between them, waiting for the smallest sign that he could come close again, and wondered if she was waiting for a sign too.

Two weeks after her departure, K-2 had said to him, “Would you like to know the statistical probability that Sergeant Jyn Erso will return safely? It is excellent.”

Paradoxically, the comment had made his stomach sink. “When has Jyn ever fit one of your algorithms, Kay?”

“My algorithm is evolving,” the droid had huffed.

Cassian wanted her to return, of course, although somehow it had never occurred to him that she wouldn’t. She’d made it off Scarif - one little Pathfinders mission wouldn’t do her in.

He wanted to her to return, but more, he wanted her to return to him, and settle the question that lingered unanswered ever since she’d left, like a visible cloud around him.

Her alarm had gone off early, waking them both. She’d groaned and buried her face in the pillow a moment, then crawled over him muttering, “It’s fine, it’s me, go back to sleep - ”

He hadn’t, of course. He’d lain and watched her pull her clothes on, yawning, her hair falling around her face in the dimness of his room, a sick apprehension in the pit of his stomach that she would leave for her mission without a backward glance.

He should understand. He’d never been someone who could afford backward glances, or assignations any longer than one night. He’d lived with vague regret over that, until he was on the other end, and then the regret had sharpened like a tooth.

She’d twisted her hair back into its usual bun, holding it anchored with one hand, scowling slightly as she looked around for her hair tie. Her eyes had landed on him, and she’d gone still. It was very hard to read her expression.

He’d said, “Jyn,” just to be able to say her name to her one more time.

She’d gone to her knees next to his bunk and put both hands on his face, letting her hair fall down again as she kissed him.

That kiss had stayed on his mind all these weeks, throughout the business of the Rebellion. Even when he was on a brief mission of his own, headed out alone to perform recon on an Imperial outpost, she’d haunted his brief snatches of downtime. He’d hoped she would have come back while he was away but when he arrived and found only Bodhi waiting, a mixture of disappointment and relief spilled through him.

His friend had said right away, “She’s not back yet, but the last report is all good. No casualties.”

He hadn’t even pretended he didn’t know who Bodhi was talking about. For a spy, he felt that he was blindingly obvious, all his feelings writ large on his face when he looked at her. It was a terrifying thing, knowing himself to be this open and not being able to close himself up again.

Not that he was trying too hard. Waiting for her transport to land like a lovesick fool. He told himself, Even if the answer is no, it’s still an answer, and I’ll be content with that.

He knew himself to be a liar.

The transport thumped down and steam billowed from the hydraulics for a second. He let himself be bumped and shoved toward the back of the waiting group, watching the disembarking soldiers.

She came down the gangplank in the midst of the Pathfinders, quiet and self-contained in the midst of their boisterous homecoming. His heart lurched at the scrape along her hairline, but he catalogued the way she moved, her stride loose and easy, her arms swinging with no apparent hitches to indicate a bruised shoulder or cracked ribs.

She looked around the hangar, her eyes passing over the spot where he stood, and he felt his stomach sink with dread and confusion. Because they were friends and comrades at least, even if nothing more, and why was she looking past him?

No, he realized suddenly. She wasn’t looking past him deliberately. She didn’t see him. He hadn’t realized how far back he’d drifted, a spy’s habit of blending into the background.

He started to move forward, but checked himself. He was so wrapped up in all the huge things he felt, but he had no idea what she felt.

He was a spy, wasn’t he? It was his job to work out what other people missed, to peel back the layers of the obvious, to assemble the facts from his targets’ myriad tiny tells.

So he spied on her, setting his own thoughts aside to take her in and see what his observations told him.

She was healthy, she’d been successful, all that much was obvious. But what was she looking for as she looked around the hangar?

Whatever it was, she didn’t see it. Her shoulders slumped infinitesimally, her mouth folded down at the corners, her lips pressing together. Her step fell heavier as she continued down the gangplank.

Two women were kissing hello a few feet away. She looked at them, then looked away, down. She hooked her hand on her opposite elbow, as if hugging herself.

She looked small, and lonely, and as if she’d very much wanted someone to meet her and kiss her hello.

Anyone?

Or him?

He took a few steps forward, into the light, and saw her turn toward him.

Her eyes went big, and her lips parted, and then she was looking at him like she had once before, on the top of the data tower on Scarif, when he’d shot Krennic in the back.

You’re here, that look said. I didn’t think you would be but you are, and you’re the person I most want to see.

His heart stuttered in his chest.

For months he’d been telling himself that it was the intensity of the moment that made her expression so meaningful in his memory. The life or death stakes, the fate of the galaxy hanging in the balance -

But this right now was a nothing moment, a few Pathfinders coming home from a mission that had gotten something small and quiet done on a planet far away, something whose ripples might not be felt for a long time. He hadn’t risked death and she was perfectly fine and yet -

You’re here, her eyes said. It’s you and you’re here.

She had come home, and she’d come home to him.

He smiled at her, because she was here too, and walked toward the base of the gangplank. Her smile wobbled, and it hit him that she was nervous. Jyn, nervous to see him.

For the first time in three weeks and four days, he remembered that If she hadn’t said anything that night, then he certainly hadn’t either.

He didn’t know what to say, so when she stood before him, he did something very uncharacteristic and said the first thing that came to mind. “Welcome home.”

She reached out, took him by the lapels and pressed her mouth to his, finally answering all his questions, and the answer was yes.

FINIS

[smolbeandrabbles]

Common Threads - An Orson Krennic AU (Rogue One: A Star Wars Story)

@wltz-bby​ @happyskywhale​

This will be a short series set across a number of parts.

Author’s Note: All credit, and I mean ALL credit, to Harry & Rob @ Stop Making Sense Podcast. They’re real ones!  REAL ones. Thank you both for letting me write such a genius idea!

Basically this all started here on Instagram. And if you want to see where it’s going you’ll want 54:33-61:20 of this! Also please support these guys, they’re so great and so funny! Highly recommended!  While we’ll have no central romance, we know how Krennic is so... there’ll be fleeting mentions of goings on.

Also it wouldn’t be my writing if I didn’t almost lose half of it due to microsoft word complications, would it?

Disclaimer: Star Wars & Rogue One characters places etc all not mine / There’s some call backs to Catalyst but they’re rather small / The idea certainly isn’t mine either in this case / lyrics not mine / I did bring my OCs into this.

Premise: When Krennic is attacked by a band of rebel insurgents and they get away with vital information, the Empire devise a rather unusual punishment...

Words: 3547

Warnings: Slight sexual references / Please don’t look at the timelines too closely / AU

_____ I know what I want And I'ma go and get it, I'm a number one, I know you won't forget it Keep my eyes on the prize, no surprise that I'm lit I be cruisin', you be snoozin' That's why you losin', I'm oozin' Confidence is boomin', boomin'

I ain't worried 'bout nada 'Less it Gucci, 'less it Prada 'Less it Dolce and Gabbana 'Less a trip to the Bahamas I wanna feel like I'm way up Stay lit every single day I wake up I ain't worried 'bout shit, you a parody Ain't no wonder why they all so scared of me I'm a rarity, I got clarity

---

Part 1: Stitched Up. 

The communications device rumbled across the table again, begging to be picked up. This time it annoyed her; she’d managed to ignore it up to now but if it interrupted the meeting one more time she was in danger of being thrown out. She pulled it from the table, glaring. The person on the other end of the line, who clearly needed her desperately, could have only been one of two people – and due to the frequency, she could easily narrow it down to one. Krennic. And if it was her boss, she’d find that highly ironic, considering he’d been the one to tell her how imperative it was she took note of every little thing said here. ‘I don’t want a single detail missed Lieutenant; do you understand me!?’   It continued to buzz on and off feebly in her lap as she listened to the group of commanders drone on and on… but at least it wasn’t disturbing anyone but her anymore. Upon exiting the meeting it rang again, probably for the billionth time, and she answered: “Director.” He seemed a little taken aback that she knew it was definitely him, “What took you so long to pick up!?” “I was in a briefing you told me to go to! And yes, before you ask, I made all your notes. I’ll send you a copy of them right away.” “Well forget about that, I have something far more urgent for you to attend to!” “Sir?” She stilled in the corridor, ready to run in whichever direction he commanded. Krennic’s voice lowered to a hiss, “This is very embarrassing Lieutenant, and I would prefer you kept it discreet. Can you get yourself to my place?” “Yes, Sir.” She waited for a further instruction, yet upon receiving none but “Good, and make it quick, Suraya.” and the click of a terminated communication, she supposed that the only thing to do was board a shuttle to his apartment and pray that his version of urgent was not ‘I need a suit for a ball tonight, and your help to pick one!’ …again. ***

Nothing appeared out of the ordinary when she stepped off the ship, smoothing out her uniform as she did so. Krennic was waiting for her by the door and ushered her in quickly – what could this have been about? Suraya’s question was answered before he’d even closed the door, “Oh… my…” Her eyes traced slowly from floor to wall to ceiling, but there wasn’t a part of his apartment that wasn’t ransacked. “…word.” She finished, not able to think of something better to say. Krennic stepped forward into the room, arms crossed and staring hard at everything before turning to her. “Rebels!” “…Rebels?” Suraya immediately questioned, “In your house? ON Coruscant?” That didn’t make any sense, “They wouldn’t dare!” “Well they did!” He indicated around, then waved her forward, implying she should join him. “How?” “That’s what you’re here for.” “I’m hardly a detective, Director… where were you?” His blue eyes lowered to the floor and he chewed his lip, face a little flushed – she could bet from embarrassment and anger. Therefore his answer was a little mumbled, “Not conscious.” Suraya couldn’t help stifle a laugh which turned his steely gaze on her, “The rebels knocked you out?” She scanned the room again, “Well did they break in, there’s no broken glass or forced entry?” “...No.” Krennic was hesitant, and the lieutenant knew she’d missed something, turning in a complete circle on the balls of her feet, she stopped as she eyed the bed. Bed sheets rumpled and his clothes strewn nonchalantly around, there was no evidence that he’d been with anyone, but Suraya knew better. “Where’s the woman?” “What woman!?” Although there was hesitation in Krennic’s voice again. She quirked an eyebrow as she looked back at him; there wasn’t a planet in the Galaxy that didn’t know about his reputation. Her look was enough to get him to confess. “She was here when I was blindsided, when I came to, nothing!” She doubted this account by the fact that, although Krennic looked fairly unscathed, there was a mark above his eye. He’d likely let them in and would never admit it. He grumbled again, “What kind of woman would just answer the door to the rebellion!?” Or maybe that was it, but Suraya doubted Krennic would have just let anyone else answer his door for him without express permission or command. “Did it occur to you she was a rebel?” The Director nearly laughed at the ridiculousness of the situation, then composed himself. “Nah. I would have known. Anyway, why would she?!” Suraya let her eyes linger on him a little longer than she perhaps ought to; “I dunno, if I got the opportunity to say I’d slept with you, I would. Your reputation does precede you, Director Krennic. Why not take the opportunity to see if the rumours are true?” Krennic flushed but automatically dismissed it, “No. There’s no way. Self-respecting rebels would never-! And I---” She kept her mouth shut for now, and pushed a scoff and a taunt back down where they belonged. “---No. No.” As he began walking across the floor, musing to himself, Suraya traced his footsteps. “Well, what did they take?” “Hm?” “If they’ve overturned everything here, then they were looking for something Director, what have they found? What was here?” “Most of my research is back with Galen at the Eadu facility. I suppose there are a few data packs… but that’s general Weapons Division stuff. And-” Krennic turned quickly, trying to figure out where he’d last seen his personal data pad. He wasn’t about to outwardly look flustered about this though, he’d been in little mishaps before and he’d always come out of them on the right side of things. This was just another one of those, Krennic told himself he had nothing to worry about. Something else was pressing on the lieutenant’s mind as she watched him move around, and Suraya wasn’t thinking as she interrupted him to voice it. “Where’s your cape?” Suraya wasn’t sure he wore it all the time. Did he wear it when he relaxed? There weren’t so many times she’d seen Krennic in civvies or ever had a reason to come over here, unless it was for an early morning pre-meeting briefing; by which time he was usually up and dressed. But he was certainly in his uniform right now – so, where was the most iconic piece of it? Then Krennic really did go red and in his attempt to stutter through a sentence, couldn’t, and had to sit down, running his hands over his face. Then it all clicked; this was what was so urgent. It wasn’t that the rebels had come here, upturned his place, perhaps stolen documents – Krennic was annoyed about that but he wasn’t bothered by it. The information he was about to impart to her was his top concern. “It’s gone.” He managed, muffled slightly behind his hands. Okay, but he had more, right? Krennic wasn’t the type of man to keep one copy of a uniform around, especially when he was so picky about tailoring. Those poor imperial tailors were yelled at if there was even so much as a stitch wrong. She was pretty sure that he’d even stood over their shoulders to watch them remake it after he’d sent it back. “There’s more than just one, isn’t there?” If there wasn’t, he at least had a rainwear version he could substitute until they made him another. Krennic just shook his head, but still wasn’t looking up. Suraya crossed to his wardrobe, pulling it open and immediately seeing the problem. She stepped back with a gasp. By ‘it’s gone’ Krennic didn’t just mean the cape, he meant his entire closet was empty. No uniforms, no finely tailored suits (that he spent who knows how many credits on just so he was on trend), nothing. There was a single note stuck to the inside of the door, which upon reading Suraya found was indeed from the rebellion – but also fairly unrepeatable. She untacked it and walked back to him. “…Well, that’s a story you’ll have to tell Uniform.” “They’ll make my life hell.” He protested, suddenly regretting all the times he’d had them redo his clothing over one stitch, finally taking his head out of his hands and looking up at her, “I can’t leave my house like this!” “At least you have a uniform, Sir.” Was the best she could do, and by the looks of it Krennic also had whatever he’d been wearing last night, so not all was lost. Still, Suraya knew why she’d been called here, “I’ll put an expedited request in for you.” He nodded, and opened his mouth to verbally agree, when there was another sharp knock at his door that demanded both of their attention. “Director Krennic! Open this door at once!” Her heart dropped and Krennic groaned, “This is just what I need!” He stood, turning back to his assistant, “I TOLD you not to say anything.” “I didn’t! It’s not like I knew this had anything to do with the rebels before I got here-!” Suraya would have hit him with her data pad if she thought it would get her anywhere. Krennic swivelled from the door to her and then back to the door, “Then how the hell does Tarkin know!?” Forced to play defensive she held her hands up, and said her next sentence almost hopefully, “We don’t know he does, maybe that’s not what he’s here for!” ***  Krennic took the deepest of deep breaths as he cracked the door open, leaving Suraya to stand to attention on one side of the room, data pad behind her back keeping it dead straight, a trick she’d learned was pretty useful as a cadet. “Governor Tarkin, how may I assist you?” “Let us in, Director, my day is very busy and I don’t have time for this, particularly.” Tarkin was curt as ever, it didn’t help Orson’s mood. “Time for what?” Clearly Krennic’s feign of ignorance wasn’t making him friends. “Oh, out of the way, Krennic! We spotted some Rebel insurgents leaving atmosphere and on breaking down the contrails of their craft and fuel particles in the atmosphere, it appears they came from your apartment. Now I don’t wish to accuse you of treason, but if you want to confess it might make things easier.” The lieutenant found herself suddenly wishing Krennic hadn’t dragged her into this first, so she could be saved from watching these two argue again. The Director scowled as he was forced to open his door wider on the chaos of his apartment.  “Oh dear!” Although as Tarkin waltzed in it was clearly only said as a formality, and the sharp smile on his face let Suraya know he was about to lord this over her boss. He was followed in by no less than five other imperials, all young looking protégés, eager to survey the scene for themselves. She would suppose even if they found forensic evidence, Krennic wasn’t about to be told of it, and it also didn’t look like they were about to be too careful with his remaining things. Once Tarkin had acknowledged her presence at the scene and turned back to Krennic, still scowling, Suraya made her way quickly across the room to kick Krennic’s discarded clothing under the bed. Maybe the kids wouldn’t put two and two together, but Tarkin certainly would. Rebels were scandals themselves without a potential sleeping-with-the-enemy situation. “It seems to be a bit of a mess you find yourself in, Director.” “It’s hardly of my own doing.” Krennic straightened, defensive, “There were far more of them than I, I fought back but was unfortunately blindsided.” “I see no evidence of force entry.” Suraya shook her head subtly as Krennic’s eyes flicked momentarily to her; if he wanted to go that way, he probably should have opened a window or the balcony doors or… something. “Well, no, as it turns out I let them in.” She couldn’t see Tarkin’s face, but his movement and the freeze of the others in the room said everything. Krennic’s eyes momentarily flickered in panic but he controlled it, “I expected to see my assistant returning to de-brief me on the meeting I sent her to this morning.” Suraya did everything in her power not to look pissed that he’d just thrown her to the wolves instead, with Tarkin immediately turning, but it was not her he addressed, “I believe I know the briefing the lieutenant attended, which you also therefore would have known did not finish until after the incident took place. Why would you expect her so early?” Krennic shrugged coolly, “Sometimes they end early.” This wasn’t untrue, of course, but it was a big bluff. It didn’t explain why Krennic wouldn’t have checked who was knocking. Also if Tarkin had the inclination to check the call log, it would show that the Director also began his tirade of calls after the rebels had left. Krennic, having become suddenly useless, was dismissed, for Tarkin to turn back to her. “Lieutenant. When you arrived did you notice anything out of the ordinary?” Suraya could see Krennic gesturing out of the corner of her eye but ignored him. “Besides the whole place being over turned, nothing Sir.” Although she tilted her head, before pausing, immediately thinking better of it. “Lieutenant?” It didn’t get passed Tarkin. “I just don’t understand why they would take the Director’s wardrobe, Sir.” The word ‘take’ obviously alerted Tarkin to something else, and his eyes darted around the room again, Krennic walked forward, clearly bumping Tarkin’s arm on purpose as he strolled to the closet to present evidence. You watched the Governor’s little smile widen in amusement, before he became serious again, “Well, well, Director. You better check they’ve not stolen anything important. Especially with the project you’re working on.” “Anything of significance is with Galen.” Krennic disliked how quick he was to address that point, he didn’t want Tarkin to know how irked he was. “Still, it would be best to check. I believe that your personal data pad will have been here along with some files. Something as significant as those would not have escaped the rebels notice.” Krennic’s teeth gritted, as he indicated back to the closet; “My WARDROBE is gone!!” Suraya was right, that was the most important thing to him. Tarkin’s eyes flicked to hers, and they shared the same exchange of exasperation, unable to quite comprehend why clothing was at the forefront of Krennic’s mind. “As I was saying…” She almost chuckled as Tarkin made it clear on what he perceived as important and it was not Krennic’s lack of uniform, “There’ll be consequences if anything is missing, Director! This is already a dire security breach.” Ironically Krennic thought that was a little dramatic, but simply grumbled to himself as Tarkin took his forensics team back and exited the apartment. The Director was just glad to get them out of his hair. “Security breach.” He muttered, “You’d think I handed them the whole damn Project Stardust!” Suraya sighed gently as she made her way back over to him, “For now, Sir, I believe we should figure out exactly what data has been taken. And report it up the chain as soon as possible, less Tarkin find a reason to return. Then we can get your uniform re-ordered.” He turned those blue eyes back on her, at least a little brighter at that idea than they had looked when she arrived, “Yes. Let’s… let’s do that.” *** It took a couple of days to overturn the damage that the rebels had done and take stock of what was actually missing. Krennic had retrieved his personal data pad, and they hadn’t managed to gain access to the most important discs in his desk. Nor his own weapon, thankfully. That didn’t mean data packs and other things of value weren’t looted. Krennic had to go through the ordeal of cancelling a lot of his access pips and cards – but they arrived fairly quickly from the Intelligence Bureau, reset. Suraya remained with him to assist the clean-up operation and order his uniform; this took a little longer to arrive and by the end of the second day Krennic was starting to get antsy. “What takes them so long!?” “Well you do have very exacting standards, Sir!” “Exactly! So they should know how to do it by now. Did I not specify clearly enough!?” She wasn’t about to answer that question. If his previous interactions with them were anything to go by the urgent note she’d placed on it was being wholly ignored and the Director would be constantly bumped to the back of the queue. She couldn’t say she’d blame them, either. On the morning of the third day, as they both anxiously awaited the results of their carefully worded email detailing exactly what documentation the rebels had stolen, Krennic received another knock at the door. “If this is Tarkin-” Suraya wasn’t about to tell him to keep a level head, but she did give him a look to tell him not to blow up. He opened the door to a woman dressed in civilian clothing, even though it appeared that she possessed rank pins. She had bright pink hair and light eyes and as she moved her hair flew as if she was starring in some kind of commercial. “Director Krennic? My name is Kora, I’m here about your uniform.” “About time it turned up!” He took a pace back in order for her to walk in, “Are you from Uniform? Next time you ought to tell them that when I say urgent, I mean same day-” Kora wasn’t done talking, and she turned back to him, saying rather bluntly, “Request denied. For letting the rebellion enter and steal documentation of the upmost importance to the Empire, YOU are going to star in a documentary about Empire approved businesses.” There was silence in the room for a moment and Krennic wore a half smile as he tried to work out if she was serious. Kora simply stared him down, and as the Director’s face fell, Suraya once again wished she wasn’t in the room. “No.” Suraya couldn’t tell if that was Krennic refusing or his own disbelief. Kora knew which way she was taking it. “Well it better be a yes before I go back, Director, or you’ll be in hot lava.” Krennic’s eyes widened and no one was under any illusions as to what he was thinking; “Not Mustafar again-!” There had to be a way out, he wasn’t about to waste his time on this! “This documentary will be of the upmost importance Director. Lord Vader and the Governor only hope that you will take it seriously.” Suraya couldn’t help giggling behind her hand at this. It wasn’t the being in front of a camera, it wasn’t the thought of doing a documentary on business – or fashion - it was that Krennic was being forced into this by a man he hated. Krennic cleared his throat, once more folding his arms as he looked back to Kora, giving her a single nod. “Very well, but there is nothing in my wardrobe that isn’t tailored to within an inch of its life and most of it is from high end shops, some of which are on Lexrul.” Krennic was a very big advocate of his home planet after all, so he’d expect at least one part of this documentary to take place there, “So you better have budget!” Instead of agreeing Kora simply smiled, in the same way that Tarkin had a habit of, “Oh no, Director, we’re highlighting small businesses that scrape by for a living, right here on Coruscant, to show our support and cater to all audiences.” Suraya thought that his face fell even faster than it had with Tarkin around, and she also didn’t think that livid covered it. “WHAT!?” “That’s the deal Director.” “It’s not much of a DEAL!” “It’s the one I’m giving you, I can take it elsewhere… and I’m sure that Lord Vader and Governor Tarkin would love to hear why you couldn’t do it.” The Director looked desperately to Suraya, but she wasn’t sure what she could say. How could, at her position, she possibly rescue him from what Tarkin wanted?

Realising indeed that his assistant wouldn’t be much aid to him, Krennic’s eyes fell back to Kora and he swallowed hard, smile feigning confidence - but also a little nervous. “Well then, I suppose I will accept your offer.” This time Kora’s returned smile was warm and sweet, “That’s great news, Director Krennic.” She took a step forward and extended her hand to him, “Well, as series producer and director, I’m very much looking forward to working with you. Welcome to the team.” Suraya bit her lip as she watched him step down to shake Kora’s hand, hoping he wasn’t crossing his fingers behind his back: this could be huge for Krennic if he used this opportunity wisely. Things were about to get interesting around here...

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Thank you for reading! 😘😘

I really am SO excited to bring you the rest of this

[smolbeandrabbles]

Patience: Cross Me - Director Krennic x Reader (Rogue One)

@mandy23b @3134045126 I like that both of you came to me with Patience ideas for Krennic... of all the Mendos!?

Author’s Note: If Krennic is the first Sin I finished, then it makes sense for him to be the first Virtue I finish (Also Wrath/Patience are the pair, so that’s also awesome!)

Shout out to my girls for coming up with two very different ideas that I stitched together here! I changed a few little details, so, I hope you still like it! As there is a connection to Wrath here it could be viewed as part of the same story...  This song is Youtube’s autoplay fault. To be honest, you can listen to it from either her or his POV...  I mean certainly “If you cross him, then you cross me” was my original thinking for using this but then there’s also “If you hear about my lady... she ain’t no one to play with” So! It works either way! ;)  Disclaimer: Star Wars characters not mine! Lyrics not mine! GIFs not mine! Premise (As requested by @mandy23b): I was rereading Wrath... And I was struck by the moment the Creepy Guy called him an “old man” - I was ready to come for him swinging. I half expected the reader to land a solid punch on him for saying that about her man. So I thought a good idea for the Patience virtue would be the reader has to be so patient and controlled not to beat up everyone who talks sh*t about Krennic ❤️ Of course she especially can’t go after Tarkin or the higher ups but eventually she’s gonna snap on a petty officer or civilian because no one talks about her man like that (not if she can help it). And of course our drama queen Krennic kinda loves this. He loves that his partner will defend him like he’ll defend her.  Further Inspiration from @3134045126: Patience with Orson Krennic - Reader is waiting for a nice evening with Krennic. Everything is ready, dinner is ready, Reader looks fancy as heck, everything is perfect... and then Krennic arrives. He's beside himself in anger and frustration. So much so he completely dismisses Reader and their efforts. Reader being the level-headed and patient one waits him out before approaching him. Basically, so I don't go on and on: Krennic would thank Reader for being so patient with him even after acting like an ass Words: 4190 Warnings: Swearing / sexual connotations / fighting

Me and her have something different  I really need all you to understand That nobody's coming close But you know I f**king love her now Like nobody ever could I'm sticking with my baby for sure Together or solo It doesn't matter where we are, So if you hear about my lady, just know  That she ain't the one to play with, oh no And I'll be standing so close So you know that... If you cross her, then you cross me  And nobody's coming close, yeah  And I think that you should know that If you cross her, Then you cross me

Now what you not gon' do Is stand there 'cross from me... Death stare, crossed arms, running your mouth like a faucet Blowing air out, wear you out, you exhausted Know she gonna slide anytime you bitches talk shit No one say hi to me without her Better pay your respect to the Queen Better do that shit without a flirt Gotta respect the HBIC Couple of things that you need to know If you still wanna be friends with me Just know, if you cross her, then you cross me Nobody's coming close, yeah And I think that you should know that If you cross her, Then you cross me Quit messin' with my baby for sure Together or solo It doesn't matter where we are, oh no, no So if you hear about my lady, just know That she ain't the one to play with, oh no And I'll be standing so close If you cross her, Then you cross me 

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noun

the capacity to accept or tolerate delay, problems, or suffering without becoming annoyed or anxious.

Everything was ready. You’d been planning this evening for months. Not that it was particularly hard for you to get onto Krennic’s schedule; he’d always be clearing spaces for you if you asked nicely enough. But you were aware that sometimes those spaces would have important meetings either side of them, or that – when he cleared you a space - five minutes meant five minutes. Tonight, however, you had him all to yourself. Guaranteed. He’d told you that this morning; grabbing your hand and pulling you into his office… You shook that thought away quickly, flustered. You looked good, your make up perfect, dress flawless. You weren’t that type of person but even you were checking yourself out in the mirror tonight. You’d made dinner even, because you knew all his attention would be on you. There was a good bottle of champagne in your own quarters – ha, like you ever resided in your quarters anymore-! – that you’d dug out and was chilling. It was going to be the perfect evening. You were determined to make it so. Nothing could ruin it. Nothing. You’d had a great day at work too, you’d even been let off early. Things were going nice and smooth, and you couldn’t be more grateful. Obviously, you also shouldn’t have spoken too soon. Orson Krennic was not a happy man as he stepped into his quarters. Of course, you were busy when he entered so didn’t see him right away. “Hey-! You’re back-!” And not a second late either; when he said a time he usually stuck to it. You walked back through into the main living area with a beaming smile on your face; “How was your day at work?” “Heh. Let’s just not start.” Your face didn’t fall at first because even if it was bad, tonight could make it better. You knew he had frustrating days at work, and if you worked late how he’d always come to find you to just talk. You had the ability to always send him away with a smile on his face. You liked that as much as Krennic did. “Oh… Well do you want to talk about it?” “No.” He wasn’t looking at you either. But he’d put his data pad down on the counter and was scrolling through statistic sets that were making the scowl on his face worse. You took a deep breath and crossed to him. But even the tap of your heels on the flooring didn’t make him look up at you. That was unusual. He always liked to know what you were wearing… Usually so he could make a quip about taking it off… “If it’s only going to make things worse… do you think you should be looking at it right now? Baby, come and sit down… We can have dinner… and take your mind off-” “Y/N. Not right now, this is important.” You stopped short; Oh…. It wasn’t enough to put you off trying “Well… I mean, your health and mind is also important… Please… sit down. Dinner is almost ready anyway.” This time he did look away from the figures, but only to turn that scowl on you “I said not right now!” You bit your lip. Well… this wasn’t how the evening was supposed to go… You took another breath, because those hard blue eyes were still on you, but it was obvious he wasn’t about to compliment what you were wearing. “I just want to help.” “Well right now you can’t.” You gave a nod “I’m sure I can’t, these things you work on are amazing… It’s not my field either but… I don’t know if… Bringing it home is… Good for you.” “Home!?” There was a scoff “Home?! These are my quarters.” “I didn’t mean it like that… I just meant wouldn’t it be better that you did this at your desk? In a place where there’s no distraction?” “You think you’re a distraction?” He didn’t ask the question to make you believe you weren’t, either. “Besides. I am supposed to be spending time with you now. Like you asked. So here I am.” “…But your attention will be on your work… And, baby, if it’s important – I suggest you do it in your office…” His eyes flicked back to his data pad “I can’t guarantee when I’ll be finished.” You didn’t like to think about what dinner would be like by the time he had decided he was finished. Looked like you would reluctantly be eating alone – but you were still determined not to let him ruin your mood or your evening. He would come back to you, he had to. Especially if you refused to rise to an argument. “That’s fine. Now will you please go and do the work that so urgently needs doing… Yell at the people who have clearly done something wrong…” His expression twitched, and either you had hit a nerve or he was remembering that someone else hit a nerve. When he didn’t raise his voice to you any further you knew which one it was. “…Fine.” He closed his technology back up and turned back to you “I will see you… later.” “You will.” You affirmed it, to let him know he wouldn’t be getting away with leaving you that easily. With that he swept from the room once more and you found yourself alone again. You sighed. It appeared you’d be taking yourself to dinner. A few hours later the door reopened. You were staring at the stars from the viewing window, but heard the way he dragged his footsteps and the pad clatter onto the sideboard. Oh. He shuffled around the kitchen area a little more, before you heard him step down to join you. His footsteps were tentative; but he didn’t hesitate on wrapping his arms around you and burying his face in your shoulder. He knew what he’d done “…I’m sorry…” “Oh? You’re apologising?” You kept your arms folded and your eyes fixed on the galaxy before you. Krennic didn’t nod, or agree with you. There was a tone to your voice that didn’t sound impressed… but you only half meant it. There were a few more moments of silence than he wanted; so he repeated himself “I’m sorry.” “Babe. I heard you the first time…” You rested your head gently on his and laced your fingers together “And I know. Rough days happen. That’s why I don’t like you bringing work home.” “It is home.” “Yes it is…” You agreed with his mumble, still into your shoulder “…Have you eaten?” “…Barely.” You shook your head “Well you missed dinner but I can make you something…” “No no… I don’t deserve-” You wheeled around so you were facing him “Hush! Don’t tell me what you deserve or not. Don’t talk like them. Hard days happen. Like I said… But that’s how you feel. Sometimes I want to put my fist through a screen… I can’t stop you from being frustrated at someone… I just… wish you didn’t…” “You didn’t deserve that.” You didn’t want to agree with him, but conceded “Yeah… But it wasn’t really aimed at me. I know that.” He took a step back, his body bent in curiosity “…How do you have so much patience?” “Because what would happen between us if I didn’t?” You smiled “Now please sit down, so I can at least have half an evening with you?” “Of course. I will… do just that…” He smiled gently “Can I at least… kiss you?” You smiled, “You may. If you tell me you went and shouted at those idiots.” “Well, it’s sorted…” He leant in and brushed his lips gently to yours. You kept your hands in his and followed his movement to pull away to keep the kiss for just a little longer. “Good. That’s what I want to hear…” You stepped away from him as he turned to the dining table. Krennic paused before he sat and looked back to you. He studied you for a minute with a smile; “You look beautiful…” You could feel that smile on your face... feeling lucky that your back was to him, you shook your head to suppress it just enough, and turned back. “Thank you!” *** Turned out during the course of your relationship, it wasn’t just Krennic who had to deal with idiots and assholes. Well, that wasn’t quite true. Usually if you had to deal with them it was ABOUT Krennic… Or rather, you forced yourself into situations that made them deal with you. Today, was no such exception; “HE SAID WHAT-!” “That’s just what I heard!” Your best friend and colleague held her hands up “WHAT THE…” You had to hold that word back for a minute “WHY-!? What the hell does he know-!? He’s not working on this project!” Apparently some lieutenant who thought he knew it all had been mouthing off that he would be able to complete Project Stardust better, and in a more timely manner, than your partner. Also, the man in question wasn’t an architect or engineer. Just some loudmouth who wanted to brag, liked the sound of his own voice – and figured trashing Krennic was a fashionable thing to do. Well, Tarkin did it enough you supposed. And you didn’t like that much either but there was only so much you could do when Tarkin did it. And most of that was just checking that Orson was okay. You didn’t have the authority to snap at Tarkin, and you couldn’t afford to dismiss your shift or simply piss the guy off. You could give your best glare, you supposed. But that was as far as it went. Anyone else was fair game. And boy, did you go hard.   “I… I don’t know, that’s just what I heard him say.” The look on your friends face clearly said she regretted telling you. But you were glad she did. Because no one was getting away with saying that about your man. “Where does he work?” “Oh no-! Oh-! No no no! I’m not watching you do this again.” “You don’t have to watch me, where does he work?” “What if they send you to disciplinary!?” You raised an eyebrow at her “I’d like to see them try.” “Try?!” Your look said Really!? “What part of dating a superior officer don’t you understand, if it even got to that point Krennic would have me out in seconds. Now answer the question.” She shook her head and didn’t say another word. Making you narrow your eyes; “You know I’m just gonna go find out, right?” “Yeah! But at least I’ll feel less like an accomplice!” In fact, you didn’t get around to looking him up until much later, just because you were so busy. And by the time you did get to researching exactly which station you’d be travelling to to give this asshole a piece of your mind, Orson appeared. “Who is…” he squinted at the name over your shoulder “Tazo Motti?” You didn’t even turn to him as you noted his floor number and work space; “A dick.” “Oh.” Krennic couldn’t help but chuckle; “Why? What did he do? Not something to you I would hope.” There was a or I’ll kill him myself missing from the end of that sentence. You shook your head and turned to face his amused blue eyes “No. And the line for beating this guys ass starts with me so…” He raised an eyebrow “What happened?” “That’s my business and nothing to concern yourself with Director… How’s it going?” “Eh. Slow… We have a couple of days respite to fix the ship starting tomorrow… I might head out to Geonosis again… Might stay… Can’t say at this point in time. But, I’ll keep you posted…” “Oh. Straight away?” “No. Why do you think I’m bothering you… Dinner?” “When?” “…Tonight… Tomorrow…” he brought up his schedule “… Either…” You thought about it, if you were all going to be on free time then you wouldn’t even have to bother finding Tazo’s work station. Just him. And you’d all be off duty, so, even less of a reprimand for you. “Tomorrow… might be better.” “…Okay…” He pinged you an invite “…Tomorrow it is… I shall find out what the options are on the base. Make reservations… We’ll be set. And now I’ll let you work… or…” he nodded to the screen “…Focus back on this asshole…” He looked again at his title “He’s not even in either of our remits.” You turned back to him with a smirk that was even less of a smile than if it was fake. “EXACTLY.” ** “You’re kidding.” “No.” “Y/N! You can’t!” “I can and I freakin’ will.” Your best friend wailed, following you off the ship and into the star port. An artificial planet like structure (although, not round like a planet should be) used for refuelling and repairing ships. The ship you were all currently based on had taken a fair few hits during the last rebel attack and would be here for a couple of days just to straighten out. Nothing too serious. But it was always best to check. You notice she didn’t stop you, which made you think really she wanted to watch whatever you would do to this guy. “Shouldn’t you think about this?!” “I have. ALL DAY!” You turned to her “You don’t have to follow me… I know what he looks like. This won’t take long.” “I’m not about to watch my best friend walk into a fight-!” “Fight?” Though you gave her a knowing smirk “Fight? Me-! Nooooo!” The sarcasm in your voice was a new level of high “Why would I do that-! I just want to have a nice friendly chat!” “Oh God-! Y/N! Why did I tell you!” “I don’t know. You should have known it’d come to this!” “You’re usually the calm patient one… I’ve heard the Director go off on one at subordinates before but you’re always so level… Except-” “Except when people think it’s okay to bad mouth my man. Exactly. You gotta let ‘em know…” you turned back and continued to walk across the metal structure “…that you won’t stand for it!” He wasn’t hard to spot. In fact he looked like the kind of asshole who got ideas far beyond his station. All talk. Time to see if he had any bite. You weren’t necessarily a betting girl but; probably not. “Tazo Motti?” He turned instantly from laughing with his friends to the sound of your voice “Yeah… Who’s asking…?” Then his eyes swept you “Oh… Wow. Now I knew I was good looking but damn. Girl.” You sighed inwardly. Really? REALLY?! “Actually I hear you’ve been talking shit.” You raised an eyebrow, “Is that true?” “What? Darlin’… You got the wrong man. But you got the right man for other things I could talk about.” “Really. From what I hear you think you can build our battle station better than the man in charge of the job. Is that correct?” “Who? Oh. Krennic? Yeah – that project would be done if I was in charge.” You were about to prove your friend wrong about fighting. He’d get three strikes... and you could get him to apologise and admit he was an idiot. But also, he’d just used those strikes in one sentence; it was amicable you’d let him continue this long. “Really? Last I checked you did communications. Whereas he’s both an engineer and an architect… and intelligence… AND a Director…” You tipped your head “What exactly qualifies you to do it better than him?” “Hell. Babe, you could work that project better than him. He clearly has no idea what he’s doing. Tarkin thinks he’s a waste of space and time and so do I-” Nope. You weren’t about to let this continue. You were strong with both hands so your first punch connected right; “THAT’S for calling me babe. I’m not your babe.” And the second connected even harder “THAT’S for thinking you are anywhere NEAR as talented as he is.” You brought your knee up into his stomach; “And that’s just for generally insulting him. To my face.” “What the F***-!” he just about managed “What the HELL-! WHO THE HELL-” His friends were all gathered around him now, all alert and looking ready to fight; “AM I?!” There was a fierce look in your eyes that dared them all to mess with you. “DATING HIM. ASSHOLE. SO you’re gonna f***ing take back everything you said, right now. Or what I just did will be the least of your problems.” He straightened; glaring at you.  “You going to make me fight a girl?” “Pft.” You scoffed looking him up and down “Fight me? Boy I’d like to see you try!”

 It was an irritatingly short fight; not for lack of trying. Only, the commotion brought unwelcome attention and officers rushed to the scene to drag you both apart – literally. Your friend, clearly looking to be as unhelpful as possible, hung back and looked nervous. You could imagine in her head she was about to tell you how she’d warned you you’d be disciplined for it.   “Cool off! Both of you, this is unprofessional. It’s a good thing none of us are in uniform...!” “She started it-! Krennic’s little bitch-!” Tazo looked like he was fairing worse than you, as he spat blood “Call her that again and she’s not the only one going to be hitting you.” The officer holding him back was stern. “ME-!” It took your officers strength to hold you back, and even then, he staggered – hell hath no fury… “ONE more word about Krennic and I SWEAR—!!!!” You didn’t care what he was calling you, calling me a bitch like it’s a bad thing? If that’s what it takes… “That’s enough!” The officer, whose name was Tully and you knew worked for Tarkin, had to get someone else to help drag you away. And soon enough you were pushed almost to the other side of the walkway. “You gonna calm down?” “I am calm.” Tully raised a disbelieving eyebrow as you brushed yourself off “If that assho-” “Alright, alright, I get it.” “Do you?” Tully was a good officer, he wasn’t really a friend but more than just an acquaintance, and every time you’d seen each other around you’d make a passing sarcastic comment.  You took a deep breath, taking it out on him wasn’t fair, but you were also kinda pissed that he’d held you back. “It’s just I see and hear people do this to him all the time. Tarkin? I can’t do anything about that – but these…” You held yourself back from swearing “… I hate seeing it. He doesn’t deserve it. Orson is doing his best just like everyone… He’s using exactly the same skill set as everyone else. But if he does it it’s wrong. Hypocritical! I just get SO mad.” “You hide it well.” And his compliment was genuine. “Until I snap. Today was one of those days…” You folded your arms “I guess I should thank you.” “No you shouldn’t.” He smiled “I don’t know many who would do what you just did.” He looked you over “And you didn’t fair too bad.” “He also called me babe…” “Oh. Then he deserved everything, should have said – would have decked him myself.” “On behalf of Krennic?” “And you. Of course.” He turned to your friend “Now what’s say we ditch this joint, find a better bar and hang out? Hmmm? Before you get yourself into any more trouble.” You wore a slight pout “Aw, okay. But I was just starting to have fun..!” All three of you turned to the bar Tully had just pushed you from, where Tazo was now sitting on a bar stool being tended to where he was bleeding – looking like you might have also done some real damage from the way he was holding himself. Good. That made you smile triumphantly, should shut him up. You flicked your hair back with a roll of your head and shoulders. And with a feel-good confidence you walked away – small smirk, which mirrored the kind Krennic always gave you, on your lips. “I think I’ve seen all I need to see here…”

 ***

You walked back to Krennic’s quarters, rubbing your arm. Putting on a brave face after sassily walking away was fine. But you realised how much you hurt; you were smaller than Tazo - but you more than held your own. Like you’d won, right? And if he said any more trash talk, you’d have no qualms going back and beating his ass again.

You ached a little bit... but felt intact... you glanced at the polished walls for affirmation. Your hair was a little bit of a mess; so you neatened it. There was a small cut on your cheek and your legs and arms ached. The one you were rubbing significantly more... But at least you weren’t spitting blood! You snickered to yourself - impressed. Even though you shouldn’t have been. You probably were lucky you weren’t in uniform or you’d be reprimanded.

You beeped yourself into his quarters and came face to face with an amused looking Krennic. He was a little dressed down. Black dress shirt and pants. He’d probably been out into town for drinks with his group of ‘friends’ (Friends? Prospects? Krennic didn’t distinguish. You doubted he had real friends beyond Galen.). “What?” He was sitting facing the door on a dining room chair. There was a glass on the table and a workbook of thick sketching paper, accompanied by assorted pencils. He smirked; leaning his hands on his knees. “What?” He repeated and stood up. Then he laughed, like there was a joke in his head he couldn’t possibly keep to himself; “You! You think I wouldn’t hear about what you did?!” Your face fell slightly - who the hell had told him!? “Oh. I wasn’t sure it’d get back to command...” “You’re kidding?!” He continued to chuckle, “Some commander came rushing up to me in the bar and couldn’t get his words out fast enough. Said I should be having words with you...” Orson laughed again, wiping what you assumed were tears from his eyes “I think it’s hilarious!!” He calmed himself and bit his lip, looking at you with adoration “But it’s also rather endearing. Now I know you’d do something like that for me.” “I’m NOT letting some jackass go around saying things like that about you!” He smiled gently “And so you shouldn’t... but I thought words would be enough.” “Words?” You folded your arms “Babe, I thought actions spoke louder than words. I used words. He abused my kindness – three strikes and out!” “How many words? Like three?” “Enough.” “What, you gave him one sentence...?” He was teasing you now, and you puffed your cheeks with a pout “He’s lucky he got that!” Orson laughed again “I’m sure he was...” placing his index finger to your forehead Orson gave you a gentle, yet teasing, smile “You know... what you need is a little more patience.” Oh-! Like he was one to talk! You swatted his hand away, placing your own on your hips. Putting all your sass into the movement of tipping your body; “HA! I think I use up all my patience on you!” Krennic pursed his lips for a moment, then nodded – realising you had a point, “Okay...  touché.” He let that linger for just enough time, to let you feel like you had something over him, and promptly gathered you in his arms pushing his forehead to yours “However… I should still reprimand you for it. So, as a Director, I can say that I did.” “You’re not the boss of me…!” You teased, pushing yourself up to brush your lips to his. “Oh really?” “Absolutely. I don’t report to you.” “Ah-! But you report to someone, who reports to someone, who indirectly reports to me... so... still to me.” It was his turn to kiss you “Details I don’t care for. It’s not to you.” “Oh darling. Don’t make me prove to you that you do...” You smirked, and in your attempt to steal another kiss he pulled away as if to validate his point. You narrowed your eyes; “You’re about to find out how little patience I have, Orson.” “For me?” His face feigned innocence and this time he let you claim your kiss. “For you.” He smirked again, “No. Darling. I should probably show you... how little patience I have for standing here. With you looking like this. When I could be in my room removing those clothes for myself.” You raised an eyebrow, but pretty soon you were smirking for yourself “Ohhhh... I think that’s a different thing. But I have about as much patience for these buttons as I do for you...” He flicked his eyes toward his bedroom and back to you “Well... why don’t we simply let our patience run out then... hmmm..?”

--- Thank you for requesting! 😘😘 FIRST Virtue! 🙌 @dennismitchell @krnncsbtch @happyskywhale #MendoTagSquad.