#but I hate the galaxy whatever skin so bad

[nb-n0v4]

Ok so disclaimer I haven’t been keeping up with overwatch like at all but my friend sent me Sig’s new skin and that shit made me see spiders so I fixed it <3 (beard and no beard versions)

[starlazergazer]

Separated

Pairing: Anakin x Reader

Request: You could do a story where the reader and Anakin had something, but the order tried everything to separate them, and so Anakin wasn't there when she ended up dying. That will be the trigger for him to start doubting the order, and hating them, but it turns out that a reader from another universe, who is exactly the same as his, just shows up.

Warning: Angst! Almost character death, lots of swearing tbh my bad

Word Count: 7k

A/N: Changed the request just a bit hope that’s okay but obsessed with the overall premise! I’m thinking she needs a part 2 but let me know what y’all think!

There was something uniquely terrifying about a silent Anakin Skywalker.

Everyone knew the jedi had a temper, it wasn’t something he was necessarily subtle about, there were few who had been at one time or another on the other end of it, you included.

But Anakin’s temper always exposed itself in the same way. Yelling, pacing, ranting. There were a number of times you had sat down before him waiting for him to get his lecture out of the way, letting him explode like a volcano before being able to actually have a constructive conversation with him.

You honestly couldn’t think of the last time you had seen him as he was now. Quiet, still, contemplative.

Admittedly there was a part of you that wanted to poke the bear, to say something that you knew would make him explode, force him back into charted territory so you knew how to deal with the fallout.

“I just don’t see the big deal”

Still nothing, a harsh glare boring down on you, arms crossed tightly over his chest, jaw clenched so harshly you could see the muscle through his skin, not a word.

“You do stuff like that all the time”

Just the steady rise and fall of his chest as he took measured, deep breaths.

You were returning home a hero, the entire hanger had cheered for you the moment you touched down, a hoard of people circling you with congratulatory hugs the second your foot touched solid ground, and still somehow Anakin had the power to make you feel like you’d failed.

This was supposed to be your moment and still somehow Anakin controlled the temperature in the room.

“I told you to turn back”

You’d stopped expecting him to speak, so thrown off by the sudden change you physically jumped at the sound of his voice, at how unexpectedly quiet it was.

“That was the wrong call and you know it”

Anakin took a deep breath at your response, his gaze cutting suddenly to the left, a moment passing as he collected himself before responding, that act alone almost making you faulter.

“If it was the wrong call I wouldn’t have made it. I told you to turn back”

“And you aren’t my reporting officer”

“This isn’t a game Y/N!”

The sudden explosion from the man would have surprised you if you hadn’t been unconsciously waiting for it, coiled like a spring waiting for Anakin to snap, waiting for him to yell, a weird weight lifting off your chest as you returned to normalcy.

“I know this isn’t a game do you?” You shot back quickly, just as loudly “He had coordinates, locations of nearly every battalion in the galaxy, information like that isn’t simply a pawn you can choose to trade away”

“Neither are you”

The response came too quickly, too quietly, too seriously for you to fully comprehend the words as he said them, your body physically recoiling at the sudden drop in temperature.

“I was fine”

“You were within firing range” he argued back, his hands coming down to rest on his hips as he glared at you “an entire separatist fleet was on the other side of that moon waiting for him to drag whatever republic ships he could towards them so they could shoot it down and you fell right into that trap”

“I didn’t have a choice”

“You had multiple” he shut you down without ever raising his voice, a single glare enough to silence you “listening to me for one of them”

“And if you had been in my shoes” you prompted “if you had been close enough to chase him would you have simply let him get away?”

“I would have-“ you scoffed before he could get the words out, seeing exactly where he was going before he got there.

“don’t lie to me Anakin Skywalker you treat risking your life as if it were a paying job”

You watched his jaw tick at your response, his words dying on his lips before he changed routs “I told you to turn back”

You let a humorless laugh bubble out of you, a frustrated hand raking across your face as you shook your head “I can’t believe you’re being so blatantly hypocritical right now”

“It’s different” his words came out so quick he seemed almost surprised to hear them himself.

“How?” you demanded more than asked, silently daring him to give you a legitimate answer you weren’t sure he could supply.

“I can’t-“ he cut himself off before he could finish, a huff escaping before he took a deep breath and continued “I need you to listen to me. When I tell you what to do I need you to listen to me”

“Even if-“

“yes” he cut you off before you could get your question off “whatever context, whatever quantifiers I don’t care. Out there I need you to listen to me”

Again his tone was throwing you for a loop. Gone was the anger, the frustration, the ire. Now he seemed to be almost begging, pleading with you to listen to him, to agree, to promise something like today wouldn’t happen again.

But you had made the right call. That was what was sticking with you. You know what you did was risky, hell you could get behind even calling it a little reckless, but objectively it was the right call. You were talking about locations of every troop of clones in the republic in the hands of the separatist’s how could he not see that this was worth anything, that taking down this spy was worth everything.

“Ani what-“

“There you two are” a new voice interrupted you, the sudden appearance of Obi-wan pulling you back to the present moment, reminding you that you and Anakin were in the jedi temple, that you had just come back from a mission, that you still had duties to uphold.

“Master Kenobi” you quickly greeted the man with a small bow, watching the man you had practically grown up under break out into a proud grin as he clapped you on the shoulder.

“That was a great shot Y/N” he praised you shaking you softly “you saved the Republic today I hope you know that”

And though you could feel your chest warm with the praise you couldn’t help but feel a small twinge because of it, not missing Anakin’s small scoff at Obi-wan’s words.

Anakin was your best friend, a man you grew up beside as a padawan, a man you had been practice dueling since you could hold a saber, and you had just pulled off a major victory for the Republic. Was it really too much to ask that your friend take just a second to be proud of you.

“Thank you master” you responded warmly nonetheless nodding at him “believe me when I say it wasn’t easy”

The older man laughed warmly at your words, dropping his hand from your shoulder as he did “that I don’t doubt but believe me when I say we are all glad your maneuver paid off, what you pulled was risky”

You shot a guilty glance at Anakin only to see the man casting his gaze at the floor, arms snaked back around his chest physically distancing himself from the two of you in this moment.

“Anyways what I came here to say is that the council is looking for the two of you” Obi-wan continued on, either choosing to ignore or missing the tension hanging in the air between you and Anakin “you need to debrief before you’re free for the evening.”

“Of course master” you answered for the two of you “we will be right there”

Obi-wan gave you an appreciative nod before taking his leave, casting a questioning glance at his former padawan before exiting the room, casting you and Anakin in a thick silence you were tentative to break.

“Ani-“ you tried but he cut you off.

“Look we’ll talk later” he muttered over his shoulder, already making his way out of the room “we shouldn’t keep them waiting”

-

You could never feel comfortable in the jedi council room, something you were sure was done by design as you and Anakin were forced into the middle of the room, made the literal center of attention.

Even as you knew you were here to receive praise for your actions you couldn’t help but shrink beneath Mace Windu’s gaze.

“-you exemplified what it means to be a jedi knight perfectly today jedi Y/L/N” Master Windu droned on, his voice thankfully lacking the usual edge it had when addressing you with Anakin in the room “we thank you for your actions today”

“I was just doing my job” you responded humbly as you were expected to with a respectful nod “but I am glad to have been of help”

“Of great help you were” Master Kloon chimed in pulling your attention to him as he spoke “the republic owes you a great debt today”

You smiled politely at Mater Kloon, gaze again being drawn across the room as Master Fisto picked up where Kloon left off, a part of you wondering if they did this on purpose to disorient you “we do however have one question regarding this situation. Jedi Skywalker you tried to order Jedi Y/L/N back”

“I did” Anakin’s response was quick with an edge to his voice that had you mentally sighing, you weren’t eager to witness Anakin go up against the council today. “The spy’s ship had reached firing range of the rest of the battalion anyone who followed him was likely to be shot before they could reach”

“Called her back before she reached firing range you did” Master Yoda spoke this time, eyes planted solely on Anakin as he spoke

“She was far back from the spy’s ship, by the time she reached him they would both be within firing range” Anakin countered through gritted teeth, you watched him ball his fists at his sides from the corner of your eye.

“That ultimately however proved not to be the case as she was able to take down the spy without any harm coming to her own fighter” Mace Windu spoke carefully, clearly organizing a path down which he planned to steer this conversation.

A tense silence passed for a moment, a staring contest passing between the Jedi master and the general before Anakin spoke “a miscalculation on my part then”

“It’s a good thing she ignored your miscalculation then” Master Windu offered dryly “we do however have access to the flight com logs. Would you like to explain jedi Skywalker why you ordered jedi Y/L/N not once but five times to turn back”

“Her pursuing as she did was a risk I wasn’t willing to make at the time master”

“Even when aware of the information that ship contained” Master Windu prompted with a raised brow “every troop location of the Republics army. Are you saying you weren’t wiling to risk the life of one jedi for the fate of this war Jedi Skywalker?”

“I don’t trade in lives Master” Anakin challenged back quickly.

“One life versus the lives of billions across the galaxy the math should be easy Jedi”

“we’re here to be Jedi knights not martyrs”

“And it is your duty as jedi knights to do whatever it takes to protect the republic as Jedi Y/L/N did”

“And if she had failed? If the inevitable had happened and she was fired upon the second she came within distance? What good would a dead Jedi knight have done anyone” Anakin was seething at this point, the familiar white hot anger you had expected to be directed at you earlier finally making its appearance.

“We can stop pretending this is about just any Jedi Knight” Mace Windu’s words had Anakin physically recoiling, effectively throwing him off course having the two of you furrowing your brows “there is a reason the jedi code forbids attachments”

“Master we haven’t formed an attachment” you took this as your chance to chime in, keeping your voice light trying to dispel any lingering tension in the air.

Master Windu’s eyes took a second too long to break from Anakin’s to meet yours, a knowing silence permeating the air as if he meant to let your comment hang in it “what happened today, any possibility of letting that spy go, cannot happen again”

You furrowed your brow at his vague response, eyes snapping back to master Yoda as he spoke up.

“not a punishment this is” he chimed in softly, looking directly at you as he did so “remember that you must”

Your eyes snapped back to Master Windu “master what are you saying?”

Mace Windu’s eyes bounced back and forth between you and Anakin for a moment before landing on the latter, another small silence stretching before he spoke “Jedi Skywalker and Y/L/N going forward are forbidden from going on missions together”

A stunned silence fell over you and Anakin, your eyes casting immediately to him only to see his disbelieving gaze locked on Mace Windu “Master you can’t-“ gone was all edge in Anakin’s tone, an almost pleading one taking its place as he tried to talk.

“The council’s decision on this is final” Master Windu cut Anakin off with a single raised hand.

“but-“

“You are dismissed jedi” The doors to the council room opened behind you before Anakin could get out any more than a word. Master Windu leaving no room for either of you to plead your case.

Numbly you left the room with Anakin in tow, your brain still struggling to wrap itself around what had just occurred as you entered the hallway and stopped against the wall, Anakin not missing a beat as he started to pace back and forth in front of you.

“You have to tell me where you’re going next I’ll see if I can at least be close” he was already talking a mile a minute, almost mumbling as if talking to himself rather than you.

“I can’t even remember the last mission I did without you” you mused quietly.

“Under no circumstances can you go alone either take Obi-wan or I’ll give you Rex”

“I can’t believe the council thinks we need to be separated”

“And call me every day even if it’s just to check in”

“Ani you know I can handle myself right” Your sudden direct address of him brought Anakin’s attention back to you, his pacing halting as his gaze snapped up to meet yours.

“After today?” He laughed bitterly in response.

“I came back today” you countered defensively, at this point beyond tired of this same argument “not a scratch on my ship I am alive and well”

“And you almost weren’t” finally Anakin exploded on you, vein popping in his neck as he yelled, a frustrated hand tangling itself in his hair as his pacing picked up once again “you got lucky. That’s it. What you did was dangerous, it was stupid, it was risky, and it only paid off because you got lucky and I feel like I’m going insane because how can no one see that? You are only here right now because you got lucky and there is no guarantee on that a second time”

“Or I’m a good pilot” you shot back angrily “I’m a good pilot and a good jedi who trusted her instincts and accomplished the goal. Is it really that hard for you to trust in my ability?”

Anakin physically deflated at your words, the full meaning of his own hitting him for the first time as he crumpled slightly “Y/N I didn’t mean-”

“No that’s just what you said” you cut him off “I get it you think I can’t handle myself and shouldn’t be trusted. I’m not sure why you’d want to be sent out on missions with me anyways”

“Y/N please” Anakin begged softly but you had had enough, cutting him off with a shake of your head and a sigh.

“No Ani I’m done with whatever is happening right now. It’s been a long day and I’m just-“ You cut yourself off with a deep sigh, taking a second to take a deep breath before turning on your heel leaving Anakin behind as you made your way back to your room, calling softly over your shoulder “I’m done”

-

You knew who was behind your door before he had even knocked. Could feel him lurking behind it. Afterall who else would be at your room this late at night.

This wasn’t the first time this had happened, Anakin just showing up at your room. Sometimes it was to apologize, sometimes it was because he had a nightmare, sometimes it was because he could sense yours. It didn’t matter really because he knew no matter what he was always welcome here, you made sure of that.

It was why he wasn’t surprised when you opened the door before he could officially make himself known. The two of you looking silently at one another before Anakin wordlessly engulfed you in a hug.

You went willingly, melting into him as he wrapped his arms around you, not even bothering to exit the doorway as the two of you stood there and took a second to appreciate the feeling of being supported by the other person.

“You scared me today” the words were mumbled into your hair.

“It was a risk I had to take” you responded softly into his chest, his arms tightening around you at your words.

“I can’t-“ he cut himself off, readjusting slightly to tuck your head under his chin before he spoke again “I don’t like it when you do that”

“And you think I like it when you do” you responded with a laugh, pulling back slightly to look up at him, Anakin reluctantly letting his grasp of you go as you did so.

“I know I just-“ he sighed “I’m sorry Y/N”

“I know Ani”

Finally a comfortable silence fell over the two of you, a moment passing where neither of you said a thing simply enjoying the moment in each others presence before Anakin broke it “I mean it when I say I trust you just please, promise me you’ll be careful”

You smiled softly up at your friend, extending a pinky out to him “I promise Ani”

He smiled and hooked his pinky with yours, neither of you able in this moment to recognizing your lie for what it was.

-

He almost hadn’t answered.

That was the thought that ruminated in his head for weeks after.

You had called, it wasn’t your normal time to talk, and Anakin had almost ignored it, almost told himself he would call you back later.

Thank the maker he was never good at ignoring you.

Your face came up immediately on his hollow display, picture posed strategically to only show your shoulders and above. And even though a smile graced your lips the second he picked up Anakin could still feel it the moment he saw you. Like a punch to the gut, it suddenly hit him that something was wrong. Something was catastrophically wrong. How had he not sensed it earlier?

“Where are you?”

You had just chuckled weakly in response and any other time Anakin lived for that sound but not now, right now he needed you to answer “there’s nothing getting past you is there Ani”

“You were sent to the outer rim right” Anakin steam rolled ahead, grabbing his cloak already intending to hijack the next available ship. He didn’t care if Mace Windu himself was scheduled to be on it.

“That was two missions ago”

Your words halted him in place, Anakin freezing on the spot as he glared back at you, “Y/N”

“Anakin” Maker how could you tease him like this now? You were always stubborn and he loved that about you but right now was not the time to play with his emotions, not with all this at stake.

“I’ll go ask Obi-wan” he was talking more to himself than you at this point, mind whirling with every possible path forward.

He heard you sigh from the communicator but didn’t pay it too much mind, you could yell at him for it later, he would give anything to hear you yell at him later.

“It’s a direct shot to my abdomen” You sucked in a deep breath, gaze dropping to your torso with a grimace, looking at something Anakin couldn’t see “losing blood like this there’s no way you make it in time”

“You don’t know that” he was arguing back before he could properly process your words, his brain refusing to even allow for that possibility.

“I do Ani” you shot him a sad smile, bleeding out, in who knows where and still you were comforting him.

“No there’s got to be someone nearby, another jedi, a local, someone who can help” He was shaking his head, brain desperately clinging to any solution it could.

“I didn’t call you so you could try and solve my problems”

“So why did you call me then?” He knew he wasn’t mad at you, he knew you would know that to, but still he cringed at the way it slipped out, at the way you shoulders slumped slightly at his words.

“Do I ever need a reason to talk to you?”

And he realized then this was you asking for the only help he could give. He was planets away with no ability to reach you and you were asking not to be alone at the end. And even though it killed him he could never say no to you.

“Of course you don’t Y/N”

You smiled at that. A real smile, no undercurrent of pain or pity. Anakin found himself trying desperately to commit to the sight to memory.

“Remember when the council separated us because they thought we had formed an attachment?” You asked softly, head resting back against the wall behind you, your entire body rising and falling with each labored breath.

“Right now it’s hard to forget” he bit down the resentment, it wasn’t what you deserved.

Still you chuckled at him, wincing slightly as you did so “I think right now I have to admit they were onto something”

“I thought that was obvious when I tried to put the entire republic army at risk so that you would be safe”

A teasing roll of your eyes, a fond chuckle “shut up stupid I’m trying to have a moment here”

“I’m sorry please go ahead with your moment” a part of him resented how easy the banter came now, how easy it always came with you, it wasn’t fair.

“You’re my person Anakin” you practically whispered the words, Anakin’s heart swelling painfully in his chest at them “At the end of the day I will always choose you and for the first time I’m not going to condemn myself for thinking it”

“You picked a hell of a time for that revelation sweetheart” the pet name came naturally, he nearly choked on it as it fell from his lips.

You laughed in response, shifting positions with a grunt “Master Kloon did always tell me I needed to work on my timing”

Anakin chimed in before a silence could fully settle over the two of you, “Though I’m sure it’s obvious I will always choose you too Y/N” he took a small amount of pride in the soft smile that grew on your lips at his words.

“So what do you say after the war we leave the order?” You propositioned with a cheesy grin “You and me Skywalker”

It hurt how easily the answer came to him “where would we go?”

“I’ve always liked Naboo” How quickly your answer came made him wonder if like him this wasn’t the first time you had considered this exact scenario.

“I could get a job working on speeders” He proposed with a sad smile.

“I think I’d work at a cantina” you mused back “always thought it would be fun to get to meet people from all over the galaxy”

“It would be a good life” he could feel the truth of those words in his very bones.

A comfortable silence fell over the two of you, both lost in thoughts of what if, before you broke it “Thank you Ani”

“Don’t thank me” he protested weakly “not for this”

“Then for everything else”

Another short silence, a quiet plea slipping unbidden from Anakin “please don’t” he knew where you were going next.

“I have to” you answered softly, solemnly “I think it’s time to say goodbye”

“You don’t have to hang up” he protested “not yet”

“I don’t want you to see me like that” And again he was never one to refuse you anything, a final request he couldn’t say no to. “I love you Ani”

Maker how could hearing those words somehow hurt worse than not hearing them ever did.

“I love you Y/N”

A single tear slipped down your cheek and then you were gone. The newfound silence of the room suffocating him as the emptiness in his chest leached out to fill the space in the room around him.

-

The republic has fallen.

The jedi are no more.

The empire reigns in its place.

Anakin Skywalker is dead.

There was a lot you were told upon waking up from your medically induced coma that was hard to believe. A lot of news that was broken to you that was difficult to swallow. The fact that your entire life fell apart in the mere two weeks you were in a bacta tank was something you weren’t sure you were ever going to be able to come to terms with.

Being with the rebellion helped, to know that despite everything there was still a group of people out there who were willing to put everything on the line for what was right. To a certain extent it felt like being home. It helped you learn to come to terms with those four impossible facts.

So now how were you supposed to deal with learning that one of those facts was actually a lie.

You had seen the trepidation on their faces when you walked into the room, the way the entire groups focus was on you the second you stepped in, it almost felt like being back before the council, you would’ve laughed if they hadn’t seemed so somber.

Now you understand why.

As soon as the words left Mon Mothma’s mouth you felt the ground buckle beneath your feet, felt the world around you start to drown out, felt your legs threaten to give out from beneath you.

You would’ve given anything to hear those words just weeks ago, would’ve wept at the thought of being where you were now, but to hear them so shortly after you had tried to heal the wound was nothing but another devastating blow.

“You told me he was dead”

The group shared nervous looks and your every doubt about the rebellion came rushing to the surface. They were no different than the council at it’s worst, wiling to do anything to separate the two of you, willing to lie to make sure you stayed under their thumb, willing to keep things from you because they believed they knew better. Why did it always feel like you were working for the wrong side?

“We believed he was”

“Bullshit” the word slipped from your lips before your gaze could even meet the speaker’s, anger flaring from your chest at the words “a fact like that, as large of that, there had to be rumors, you had to have guessed”

“We didn’t want to get your hopes up”

A bitter laugh rose to the surface, hands coming to your hair in exasperation “I was told the very republic I gave my life for had fallen, that the very group I was fighting against are now in control, and everyone I had ever known dead at the very hands of the people I had sworn to lead and you didn’t think I could’ve used a little hope?”

“We thought-“

“That wasn’t your decision to make” you countered before they could finish, eyes daring the group to say something “maker how can you not see that it was this very hubris that led to the fall of the jedi? Of the republic? Just because you think you know better-“

“He goes by Darth Vader” a new voice jumped in, your eyes snapping to the holo-projection of Bail Organa, the senator’s eyes giving nothing away but pity.

“no-“ the protest fizzled on your lips, barely enough breath behind it to properly get it out.

“The source is solid” it was Mon Mothma again, eyes practically begging you to listen. “Anakin Skywalker is Darth Vader”

And for a second your brain couldn’t comprehend it, wouldn’t comprehend it. How were you supposed to reconcile these two opposite people as one? “No that doesn’t make any sense”

“I’m sorry Y/N”

“No” you protested loudly, as if yelling could get it to not be true, could get them to admit they were lying, this this was all some sick joke “Someone is wrong, someone is lying to you-“

“The information is good” another voice interrupted but you were too caught up in your spiraling thoughts to even identify who it was.

“No the Anakin Skywalker I knew wouldn’t-“

“The Anakin Skywalker you knew died the day that you did” Senator Organa cut through all the noise in your head, his voice loud but not unkind as he drew your attention, the entire world seeming to fall deathly silent after those words.

“What does that mean” your voice was quiet, broken, you didn’t have it in you to care.

“It was an open secret” he explained softly, the senator façade breaking just slightly “the day you were reported to have died Anakin fought with the Jedi council, fought with Obi-wan, no one could get him to calm down, to think rationally. Eventually he made his way to Palpatine’s office, he hasn’t been seen since”

“We all knew of his distaste for the council before this” Mon Mothma chimed in “he blamed them for your death, drove him right into the arms of the current emperor”

Your mind had slowed, had calmed noticeably but still you found yourself dancing around the issue rather than actually dealing with it, your thoughts instead deciding suddenly to stick to something else.

“Why are you telling me this now?” You watched them all carefully, noticing the nervous glances they sent towards one another rather than answer “I wasn’t lying when I said you were just like the former council, preferring to sit on information until it could properly serve your purpose so what’s the purpose this time?”

Again Mon Mothma took the lead, hesitantly speaking up “he’s formed a group with the sole purpose of hunting down and killing any remaining jedi. It’s quite frankly only a matter of time before he finds you”

You furrowed your brow at this “so you’re warning me? Telling me I need to leave the base?” you shook your head slightly, not liking how either of those answers fit before it finally clicked “you want me to stop him”

“We want you to talk to him” Senator Organa corrected you “if there’s anyone who can get through to that man it’s you”

You eyed each of them skeptically, knowing as you were sure they did as well, that this question only truly had one answer “I’ve been told twice in this conversation alone that Anakin Skwalker is dead.” You took a deep breath, bracing yourself on the back of a chair “for all of our sakes I hope that’s not true”

-

Realistically you knew it was true the minute your ship touched down. Even if you weren’t conscious of it at the time you could feel that all too familiar force signature coming from the planet, seeping into your very bones.

To know it logically was an entirely different story.

You stayed hidden, following from alleyways and rooftops, you couldn’t make out the man beneath the costume but everything about him was just wrong. His gait was wrong, the way he held himself was wrong, the red saber at his hip was wrong, there was no possible way the man beneath the mask was that familiar jedi. And yet…

You couldn’t face him. You knew that. Even if it was Anakin under there you weren’t ready to find out, weren’t sure which answer would be more devastating to you.

So even though it meant failure you put your hood on and slunk away, leaving behind Darth Vader whoever he was, ready to tell the rebellion they would have to come up with another way.

You got little more than a flutter of a cape in warning before he descended upon you.

The black figure whipped around the corner faster than your brain could comprehend, having time to do little more than simply freeze in place before you were lifted off the ground by a force you were all too familiar with, invisible fingers tightening around your neck as you were lifted.

“You’ve been following-“ you got little of the figures voice through the mask before he suddenly cut himself off, the pressure on your neck easing just enough to allow you to gasp for breath, the world stilling around you as you looked out from under your hood at what was supposedly Anakin Skywalker.

The world stood at a standstill for a moment, you hovering inches above the ground, toes desperately seeking purchase, Darth Vader silently staring at you, hand held before him almost trembling. You were working yourself up to croaking out a question when his other hand raised suddenly and with a flick of his wrist your hood went flying back.

The second the light hit your eyes the force on your neck disappeared and you crumbled to the ground below in a heap.

Precious few seconds were given for you to gulp down breath before you were hauled back up by your neck again, this time an actual hand secured firmly around it as you were all but thrown against the wall, your head smacking against the brick painfully.

“who are you” even through the voice modulation you could hear the way he seethed beneath the helmet, ire barely contained by the black material.

“Y/N” you croaked weakly, clawing half-heartedly at the hand around your neck that held you in place.

His fingers tightened in response before he pulled you back and slammed your head once again against the wall, a soft groan escaping you at the impact “now is not the time for games now who are you”

“I’m telling the truth” you practically begged, unable to feel any shame in it as the edges of your vision started to black from lack of air.

“That’s impossible-“ you couldn’t really bring yourself to listen to the rest of the sentence, the only thing running through your mind was a grim acceptance that this was how you would die. Supposedly at the hands of the man you had once loved.

“Ani please”

And you hadn’t meant for the plea to escape you, barely even registered that the nickname passed through your lips. All you could focus on was the fact that after they came out into the open you had finally been released.

Again you crashed to the ground, hands splayed out to catch yourself before you could faceplant, lungs burning as you greedily gulped down air.

“Why would you-“ The words died in his throat and a strange, bitter part of you wanted to laugh.

Once you finally had better control of your breathing you sat back on your heels and looked up at the man clad in black before you, squinting slightly at the sun over his shoulder. “It’s true then”

He didn’t respond, simply looked down at you.

“take off your helmet”

“who do you think you are-“ again the urge to laugh surfaced, the way he reached for anger so readily was so similar to the man you once knew, how could you not have seen it earlier.

“Take off the helmet” He physically recoiled at the command. You softened your voice in response, practically pleading with him "I need to see your face"

Again the man before you went rigid, a tense few seconds passing in silence before he hesitantly reached up and pulled off the helmet.

The man standing before you looked somehow older than you remembered but unmistakably him, and every thought about your mission flew out the window the second his eyes made contact with your own. Your brain rejected the similarities outright, because despite being told Darth Vader and Anakin Skywalker were one in the same you still couldn’t handle this physical evidence linking the two.

You reacted without thinking, taking a single step forward and planting your hands on his chest, roughly shoving him backwards, Anakin allowing himself to be moved without a second thought “Maker Ani what the fuck were you thinking”

His helmet slipped from his grasp absentmindedly, his hand coming up to clutch at his chest where your hands had just been as he just stared at you, eyes swirling with too many emotions for you to pin down at the moment.

“Palpetine are you serious?” You demanded more than asked, hurling the implication at him with reckless abandon “I always told you I didn’t trust him and still you-“

“You weren’t there” he cut you off and his voice was so soft, so broken it startled you into silence, your body physically recoiling back a step as he spoke “You weren’t there, and he was all I had”

“You had Obi-wan, you had Rex, you had people who cared about you Ani”

“They weren’t you” his answer back came steadfast and resolutely, leaving no room for argument, followed by a much quieter, more broken statement “they took you from me”

“No one but that weapons dealer took me from you.”

“They did” neither of you felt the need to define the ‘they’ to which you both referred “If they hadn’t kept me from going with you I could’ve-“

“You don’t know that” you cut him off, this argument feeling much to familiar “Even if you had been there we don’t know-“

“If I had been there then you wouldn’t have-“ and he didn’t need to finish his sentence, the natural end to it evidence that this was an argument he has already had with himself too many times before.

“I didn’t” you begged him to listen to you, “I’m okay. Ani I’m right here”

Your words seemed to shock him out of his own personal bubble, his eyes darting frantically around him before he seized you by the wrist suddenly, surprising you, as he started to pull you further down the alley “you need to go Y/N”

“What” the question left you on an exhale, his sudden change in attitude giving you whiplash as he tried to pull you behind him.

“You can’t be here you need to-“ he whispered quickly, frantically, almost as if the words weren’t for you.

You pulled back on your arm forcing him to stop “Ani I’m not leaving you”

He furrowed his brow at your declaration, a hand on your shoulder trying to nudge you forward still “Y/N do you know what the empire will do to you if-“

“I don’t care” you declared back, halting his movements once again, using his grip on your arm to pull his attention back down to you “I already lost you once, don’t make me do it again”

His eyes bounced desperately back and forth between yours as he set his jaw, you could practically see a million different arguments running through his head.

“Halt” a new voice broke through the tense silence, Anakin’s gaze flickering to its source above your head. You barely had time to gaze over your shoulder at the trio of clone troopers that had approached, guns drawn, before Anakin had sent the lead one flying rapidly into the wall with a flick of his wrist.

You tried desperately to hide your flinch at the noise of his armer hitting the building.

The other two froze on the spot, blasters still pointed at you, but Anakin ignored them both, hand still held aloft as he stared down at you debating his next steps for a precious few moments before he spoke.

You could see him physically morph as he addressed the clone troopers, could see him become that other man, that Darth, in the way he squared his shoulders and straightened his back, the way his voice dropped an octave, the way his grip on your wrist grew almost painful as his gaze bore down into yours

“this one is force sensitive, she comes with me”

[skellymom]

"Vagabonds"

Ongoing OC x Hunter/Bad Batch Fanfic Series

Introduction: "Chaos On Coruscant"

And Chapter 1: "Weight of the Galaxy" (posted 8/14/2023/reuploaded 1/2/24)

ᴛʜɪꜱ ꜰɪᴄ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴀɪɴꜱ ɴꜱꜰᴡ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ. ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ɴᴏᴛ 18+ ᴅɴɪ.

(Credit: Cool moving star dividers by @4ngelic-wh1spers )

BACKGROUND: The following story takes place in the Bad Batch Star Wars Universe, and I tried to keep within the timeline of Season 1-2 before the Batch Left Ord Mantell for Mount Tantiss.  The OC characters of my invention are Maadienne “Mad Momma” Dax and her genderfluid Teen named Love.  Mad is an older single mom.   

Mad and Love also are coded as belonging to something similar to the American Nomad population in the US.  Think Nomadland, off-griders, bikers, Slab City transients, hobos, tramps, hippies, punks, carnies, faire circuit vendors, survivalists, societal dropouts, etc. And they intersect with other nomadic groups coded as similar to the Roma (Romani), Travelers/Tinkers (Irish), Romanichal (British/UK). All of these people in this story universe refer to themselves as “The Star People”.

WARNINGS: Shades of neurodivergence, mention of deep sorrow/depression/hurt/lost love/relationship breakups/estranged parents/heavy mental baggage/ugly crying.  There are hints of the beginning stages of fascism and xenophobia.  Some mention of erections, arousal, sexual/sensual feelings, flirting.  Lots of swearing (Star Wars swears mixed with Earth swears).  Fictional prejudicial slurs.  Poverty, class struggle, slavery, war, child abduction, politics, very amorphous mention of genocide, animal cruelty living conditions (brief), animal death (postmortem) and both of these are redeemed. 

Original art of my OC: Maadiene "Mad Momma" Dax. Art markers on paper.

Original art of my OC: "LOVE". Art markers on paper.

FYI-We WILL get to Hunter! But first I need to introduce my OC’s!!!

Introduction: "Chaos On Coruscant"

The outer streets of Coruscant started to show their seediness and poverty the longer Mad and Love walked away from the bustling city center.  They had just picked up a considerable payment of credits after dropping off two young orphans to a well-heeled couple living within the upscale high rises of the capital.  They had the help of clearances, chain codes and disguises.  Both wearing a bland headscarf veil and shift dress over their clothes and skin tattoos.  Mad’s face was uncovered and Love’s full coverage.  To anyone who passed on the street, they were two household nannies taking care of their rich owners’ children. 

The orphans, Edda and Oddo, were refugees from a distant Outer Rim planet that the Empire had newly “colonized” for resources.  The people of that planet fought and lost control of their sovereignty. Many lives were lost in the battle.  So many refugees and newly orphaned children were begging to flee the planet to avoid becoming slaves of the Empire.  Mad and Love saw an opportunity to take whomever they could away from that situation and bring them here to a better life.  They hated the Empire.  Before that The Republic.  Before that…whatever governing forces that had killed, enslaved, or pushed their people out among the stars.  Homeless Nomaadi that nobody wanted.  Dirty marked “Caitiff” scum.  Now the Empire was doing this to other “outsiders” all over the galaxy.  

When Mad and Love dropped off the children, the stipulation was it had to be at the back servant’s entrance.  The couple wouldn’t let it be any other way.  Even though Mads contacts were secure, and this job was very low on the risk scale, there was no room for compromise.  The couple didn’t come out expressly and say anything prejudicial about Nomaadi delivering the children.  But it was heavily implied through the thin veneer of niceness as they opened the door to welcome the children.  Mad and Love were instructed to wait at the threshold, to hug Edda and Oddo and say a hurried goodbye.  The siblings protested tearfully, but gave in. Mad caught a fleeting look at the large opulent apartment, meeting the eyes of the servant at attention on the other side of the room.  The husband, giving them a brusque “thank you” while handing over the bag of credits, shut the door in their faces.  Standing in the servant’s hallway, Mad and Love looked at each other in sad silence.  The siblings had travelled with them on the Beldame several weeks before.  Bonded with them.  The children didn’t care who Mad and Love were.  They were so grateful to be safe and have someone in their life that cared. 

The credits helped smooth the sting…a little.  The encounter was so jarring and surreal, but par for the course.  Mad and Love couldn’t eat or survive without steady revenue coming in. The couple who paid for the lives of these children paid handsomely.  To them it was just a drop in the bucket, easing their guilty conscience.  Taking in homeless orphans as their own children…while not using any of their privilege to stand against the Empire seemed like a glaring example of blind privilege.  Love was neutral on the subject, looking at the glass as half full.  The children have good homes now.  Mad saw the glass as leaky with a huge crack in it.  The damned thing didn’t work well and was fundamentally broken.  

Their ship, the Dread Beldame, was parked on the outskirts of the capital city to keep a low profile.  That meant a lot of walking, but it kept the Coruscant Police off their backs.  Getting the hell off the planet relatively undetected was the goal now.   

The narrow streets led to a small public square complete with an open-air second-rate vendor market.  Tourists visiting the Capital, locals, and Neuvo riche citizens of the city center visited these spots due to lower prices on goods.  The awful smell of the exotic meat vendor wafted up into Mad and Love’s noses.  The smell of a hundred naturally and genetically designed animals housed together in a small space. 

Mad ignored the smell and kept a brisk pace.  However, was surprised by a familiar voice and warm Nomaadi greeting.  

“Auntie?” 

Mad Stopping in her tracks and looked past the front counter into the shadows towards the back of the stall.  A familiar face slowly stepped out.  Mad thought she was looking at a ghost.   

Nephew Sil, covered in dirt and slaughter offal, underweight and wearing a slave collar sadly smiled at her.  She hadn’t seen him since he was a boy, when he was abducted from his family.  Now Sil was a teen. The Nomaadi chest tattoo a clear identifier.  Her experience was that many Nomaadi children were stolen.  The authorities didn’t care to help the families to find them, so they were easy pickings by slavers and traffickers. 

Love, totally unaware of Sil, followed the scent and was shocked by the scene at the meat vendor’s chopping block.  A small live puppy was held aloft shrieking and scruffed by the butcher who was barking at any possible patrons in the crowd. 

 “Loth Wolf-Vornskr hybrid!  Tender delicacy.  Butchered fresh right here.  Last one goes to the highest bidder!!!”   

In his other hand was a very large meat cleaver. 

Love was mortified to witness this.  As their eyes looked past the puppy, cages upon cages of trapped animals came into view.  Small wire cages stacked up high holding dirty tortured souls stuffed into small spaces.  And beyond that, a bigger reinforced pen holding a large bellowing beast hiding in the shadows.  The smell of animal shit, fear, blood, death, and pain hit Love in the gut and assaulted their senses.  Patrons rushed forward with their money to bid on the last small life in the butcher’s hand.  Love was knocked aside and bounced from one patron to the other before being shoved down onto the hard pavement.  The obscene display of crude materialistic greed while being trampled was too much for Love.  And concern for the pup brought anger out of them, vibrating the very air within the space. 

Mad called out to Sil, “Come with us!”   

“I can’t” and winced as he touched the shock collar.  It was electronically locked, live and would not allow him to leave the market stand.  Sil was the meat butcher’s property and locked in, just like all the animals stuffed in the cages around them.   

Mad unbuttoned the top of her blouse to reach for the credits stowed in the security pocket of her binder.  The high neck fell open to reveal her own circular Nomaadi chest tattoo.  She could attempt to buy Sil back from the Butcher and help locate his parents.  The job’s payment would allow this luxury and still have enough for them to live on until the next job. Before Mad could pull out any credits, she could feel every hair on her body stand on end.  Sil could feel it too.  Mad knew exactly where it was coming from. 

“LOVE!  NOOO!!!” 

Mad suddenly turned to see Love levitating 10 ft above Coruscant street.  The patrons facing the butcher never saw what was coming, but he had a front row view.  The butcher froze and his eyes went wide. Mad could feel the raw emotion and power pulse from Love’s body.  They were gonna blow, and Mad couldn’t do a damned thing about it.  

The puppy and the animals in the surrounding cages fell silent.   

All.  At.  Once. 

What happened next to Mads recollection was in slow motion.  A silent Force scream emanated from Love’s mouth.  It shorted out EVERYTHING within that city block.  All the technology, transportation, everything…and the locks on all the cages within the meat stall.  Everything was at a standstill for 5 seconds.  Love still levitating above the street, the butcher standing in the same position, the vendors at a standstill.   

Then things sped up.   

And… THE SHIT HIT THE FAN!  

The animals, sensing freedom, burst from their cages in a frenzied wild blur.  Screams could be heard from patrons slowly realizing what was happening as animals escaped beneath their feet, swooped near their faces, leaped on or past them.  Love still levitating as people and animals ran pell-mell through the square.  Nobody cared to notice a skinny veil-shrouded teenager floating above them.  The butcher let loose a litany of curse words and pointed the meat cleaver in Love’s direction…while still holding onto the puppy.   

Love reached out with the Force and snatched the puppy from the Butcher’s grasp.  He turned 3 shades of red and chucked the meat cleaver at Love.  They cradled the puppy and force deflected the cleaver.  It fell ineffectually against the pavement below.  Love was still levitating at 10ft and giving a calm intense death stare to the Butcher.  He foamed at the mouth in a rage, stooped down and yanked a laser rifle out from under the counter, swinging it around to aim right between Love’s eyes.   

Love, unfazed, didn’t move from his aim.  Mad almost shit her pants in fear.  It was all too much.  They were going to get caught, and Love’s luck was going to run out.  Today was the day she would see her offspring’s brains all over the streets of Coruscant. 

The Butcher pulled the trigger…which did absolutely nothing as Love’s scream had shorted out his weapon.  He was thwarted once again from dispatching this teenage menace, and absolutely lost his composure, chucking the weapon at Love. 

They calmly Force pushed the weapon aside, keeping the death stare.  Having nothing left to assault Love with, the Butcher leapt onto the counter and launched himself up towards them… 

…and was immediately taken out by the large animal held captive in the shadows of the meat vendor’s stall.  There was an explosion of metal, wood, and small animals…that hadn’t escaped from the first rush to freedom.  The Behemoth ran past Love and caused total mayhem to the remaining people in the square.  More blood curdling screams mixed with angry animal cries. 

Love calmly turned on a dime and floated airily away from the scene, pulling off the veil and gracefully dropping it to the ground below.  Their Nomaadi tattoo in full rebellious glory to all of Coruscant.  Love’s facial expression calm as ever, still cradling the puppy. 

It was a total sight to behold.  Mad was beside herself watching Love float away from the scene.  And then yanked almost off her feet as Nephew Sil ran past and grabbed her hand.  He ripped the now inactive slave collar from his neck and threw it aside.  Behind them a cab and several speeder bikes fell from the sky and exploded on the pavement, they had shorted out as well.     

“We gotta go, go, go!  Run Auntie Mad!!!  Where’s the ship???”  Running high on adrenaline he dragged Mad out of the square into the narrow streets for cover.  They tripped over scurrying marmots.  And, Mad had to pull a small, flighted escapee from her hair as they tried to catch up to Love. 

“Love, come down outtya head!  Or we are gonna lose ours!!!”  Sil let go of Mad and ran ahead.  He took a huge running leap and yanked on Love’s leg, pulling them out of levitation mode.  It was like he was trying to catch a balloon.  Love landed on two feet with a proud smile.  

They signed “Hello” warmly and presented the puppy proudly.  

“You CRAZY!”  Syl shook his head “Causing big trouble.” 

They were interrupted by a bedraggled Spice Head grabbing both teens by the back of their shirts.  “Catiff scum!  You should be worth some credits!!!” 

Mad had enough of everything that had gone to total shit today.  Anger welling up, she would have shot him on the spot had her blaster not shorted out.  Instead, she ran full tilt into the assailant, knocking him to the ground.  From there, proceeded to grab handfuls of hair and repeatedly pound his head into the pavement accentuating each screaming curse:   

“KEEP.  YOUR.  HANDS.  OFF.  MY.  KIDS.  YOU.  KRIFFING.  BANTHA.  FUCKER!!! 

He started bleeding, lost consciousness, and stopped moving.  He was still breathing, though.  That was a plus.  Mad’s view cleared and could feel Sil and Love pulling her off the man.   

“Mommommom!”  Loves voice echoing inside Mad’s head. 

“Auntie, stop!  Please get up!!!”  Sil’s voice outside her head. 

Looking up, more Spice Heads were watching the scene unfold, shrinking back into the shadows.  Fear on their faces.  

“See this?  Keep your hands off us and your mouths shut!  We were never here!!!”      

Mad gathered herself, stood up and firmly barked, “Get your asses in gear, the Dame’s this way!”  Sil and Love, clearly shaken, followed behind. 

She gave murderous glances to the onlookers, who cowered as Mad, Sil, and Love passed.  One threw the Eye of Protection sign, showing the fear Outsiders had of The Bad Fate believed (wrongly) spread by the Nomaadi.  Mad sometimes wished she could really curse these people to silence so her family could escape safely.  Every excursion was dangerous to her people.  Snitches were a constant hazard. 

From there, they ran several blocks to the outer port where the ship sat waiting.  

The Beldame with its mismatched junky exterior looked so welcoming.  The sensors picked up Mad and Love’s proximity and opened the gangplank.  All three ran in and found their seats.  The Dame automatically closed its gangplank and Mad got them out of there quickly.  Two local precinct police speeders appeared in hot pursuit firing handheld blasters at the ship.  The speeders could only follow so far before falling behind…but not before shorting out the Dame’s antiquated deflector shield.   

While the Dame exited Coruscant’s planetary atmosphere, Mad brought up the coordinates for Ord Mantell, scrambled their jump signature, and punched the ship into hyperspace. 

You could cut the silence inside the ship with a vibroknife.  Both teens unsure if Mad was still…MAD. 

Both were seated behind her.  The light of stars coursing past casting shadows down Mads back.  It was an uncomfortable 15 minutes before she swung the chair around and met Love with an intensely serious stare.  Only Love heard Mad’s voice in their head. 

 “Dank Ferrick, Love…what the hell was that back there!” 

Sil sat watching a silently animated display of physical movements while both Love and Mad argued back and forth inside their heads at each other.  It was like watching manic mime comedy.  He knew they both could communicate like this.  Just never seen an argument between the two since he disappeared years ago.  He could only guess what the row was about. 

“I couldn’t help it.  Everything about that place was so horrible.  All those animals living and dying like that.  The people trampling me.  And… I miss Edda and Oddo.  I’m sad we let them go.” 

“We needed the money.  We were broke, Love.  Can’t keep everyone we ferry across the galaxy.  What you did in the town square…it was over the top.  You blew our cover.  Our contacts that we worked so hard for won’t help us now.  We will NEVER be able to go back to Coruscant again!” 

“Good, that place is fucking POODOO!!!” 

“But we had allies there, Love.  Without allies we can’t do any business there.  We just lost a good steady income.  The Outer Rim only pays us enough to scrape by.  And now we might have eyes actively looking for us!  You don’t really understand how dangerous everything is now for us…YOU…especially since the Jedi were murdered, do you???” 

Silence.  Surprised face. 

“DO YOU???  We already have shit rain down on us normally.  Things are getting worse out there with the new Empire.” 

Silence.  Angry face. 

“And what the hell was that…thing you did?  It shorted everything out!  That’s new, Love.  You need to control whatever the hell that is.  What did you do?” 

Silence.  Offended face.  

Mad sighed.  “I’m sorry I upset you.  I’m sorry I yelled.  It scared me.  The thought of losing you scares me.  I love you”. 

Silence.  Neutral face. 

“Ok…” Exasperated sigh.  “I… We’ll talk later. “ 

More silence.  Still neutral faced, Love starts to levitate and zone out.  Swaddles the puppy tighter. 

Mad knows she overreacted again.  The rebellious Love was something she wasn’t prepared for.  No idea on how to control these powerful urges.  A Jedi might be able to help if there were any left.  But then, the Jedi were problematic and antiquated.  Had they not been, Love would have been a Padawan long ago…and probably deceased now.  With a heavy, tired sigh Mad turns finally to address Sil. 

“I missed you so much Nephew.  I’m sorry for the drama.” 

Sil immediately got up and hugged Mad.  She grabbed him in embrace and squeezed hard.   

“It’s been so long.  Your parents will be happy to know you’re safe.” 

Sil was quiet.  Then Mad heard soft sobbing and felt his body shake.  She kept quiet and just held on until he wanted to be let go.  Love, dropping their angst, floated over and placed a hand onto his back and slowly rubbed in circles. 

He eventually let go and stood up.  Both Mad and Love spoke at the same time: Mad verbally and Love signing in Basic, “In your own time.  I’ll be here.  I love you.”   

Sil wiped his eyes.  “I’m hungry, Auntie”.  He was so thin.  Clearly, he was underfed while gone.  Probably starved to be kept in line, in addition to the shocks he received.  An outline of rough scar tissue from the slave collar worn into his neck stood out.  It was a very sobering thing for both Love and Mad to consider. 

“Let’s see what we can rustle up, huh?”  Mad got up and made a beeline for the ‘Dame’s tiny galley kitchen. 

“I missed you too Couz.” Love signed.  “Can you hold Tiggy for me while I help mom?” 

Sil nodded and took the puppy from Love.  “Hello, Tigglet” he whispered while settling into the pilot’s chair to watch the stars and Purrgils float past. 

Thanks for your patience. Hunter makes his entrance in this next chapter!

Chapter 1-"Weight of the Galaxy"

Back at Ord Mantell, Mad knocked back the Spotchka to steady her nerves.  While leaning on the bar of Cid’s Parlor with head in hand, she contemplated the huge clusterfuck that transpired on Coruscant. 

They were so kriffing lucky!  Especially finding Sil like that and getting him freed.  Being able to keep all the credits from their last job without having to haggle for his freedom.  The animals and exploding vehicles provided diversion.  The Butcher was being scraped off the concrete, so he wasn’t talking.  The Spice Heads might present a problem…if anyone cared to listen to a bunch of Tweakers. The only reason they were pursued and lacked a shield was due to the Coruscant Police suspecting those running away from the scene and fleeing the planet were to blame for the crime of…property damage.   

The authorities and media didn’t give a Womp Rats ass about the dead butcher, his sketchy meat market front, or the slaves he ran through it.  They feigned some concern about the injured citizens of the downed vehicles and those maimed by the market escapees.  The News Holos were calling the incident “eco terrorism” by a small band of indigents who set the animals free.  Fortunately, a well-known Enviro Group stepped up and claimed responsibility, inspiring its many supporters to clog the streets around the Capitol building in open protest.  The Butchers Trade Org, Pro Meat Groups and rando hooligans looking to profit and cause havoc clashed against them.  This brought out the Coruscant Guard to try to bring order to the chaos.  The upper crust of Coruscant railed against the inconvenience to their day and clutched their pearls.  Total mayhem and a convenient smokescreen. 

This kind of luck is what Nomaadi Maami Dall would call “A Gift from The Force”.   

“But make NO mistake, the Force is Fickle.  It won’t last for long.  Get out of yer own head, or it will be your end!”  Could hear her Elder preach the message like she was sitting right next to Mad at the bar.  She sorely missed Maami Dall…and Paapi Dall, Brothers, Sisters, Aunties, Uncles, Couzins, Friends of The Nomaadi Star People.  The whole Community.  It had been so long since they could all safely come together for Reunion.  Fond memories of feasts, Hand Fastings, Parting Ceremonies, musicians in drum circles around large bonfires, people singing and dancing all night, helping to repair transports during the day and restore supplies for travel, children playing, community coming together to share news, information, trade, settling disputes, healing family rifts, making love, birthing babies, and just safely relaxing from the nomadic lifestyle for a while.  

Oh Maker…the nostalgia HURT.  Being transient was The Way.  Everyone had a different journey.  Paths diverging, converging constantly.  Nomaadi were encouraged to leave, live their own truth, and be independent.  Plus, their survival depended on it.  Too many of them in the same place for a long period of time made the community sitting ducks.  This is why they would occasionally meet for Reunion by word of mouth and never permanently settled anywhere. 

Mads’ thoughts shifted back to their luck…this time.  How long before it ran out?  Love started as a quiet introspective child.  Their use of the Force started early.  It always manifested itself as gentle, non-threatening, defensive and never offensive.   

Mad also deeply regretted the show of temper.  She really hoped to not permanently injure or kill the Spice Head.  He was stupidly dangerous and a victim of a fucked-up system that kept so many down on Coruscant.  Hell, the universe.  All the people on the bottom fighting for the scraps that the powerful occasionally threw at them.  She sighed…when was it ever going to kriffing change?    

Mad’s only plan for tonight was ordering several more drinks to help forget the rising worry in her mind: After the wholesale slaughter of the Jedi and those showing Force abilities, how was she going to keep her powerful and now rebellious child safe? 

At the other end of the bar slumped Hunter, attempting to drink himself into oblivion.  He was at the start of his journey tonight several drinks in.    

His brothers and sister were back at the Marauder.  Tech and Echo had mechanical Maintenace to do.  Wrecker planned to take Omega for Mantell Mix and browse the Traders Market.  Hunter didn’t feel any of it, except guilty for turning Omega down when she begged him to come along.  He couldn’t get the vision of Crosshair out of his head, standing alone on the platform of Kamino as they left the planet.  Oh, and he felt guilty for that too.  Sad as well, and some frustration that his brother wasn’t touched by the plea of brotherhood offered by most of The Batch.  He very briefly considered having Wrecker drag Cross back inside the ship, refusing to leave without him, or stunning the sniper to do so.  It would have not changed Crosshairs mind in the long run.  Stubborn brainwashed sibling.  Hunter still loved him. 

All the while the remains of his home…no, his family’s home lay in the Kaminoan sea smoldering.  The remains of which The Batch narrowly escaped from.  Almost resigned to a watery grave. What happened to all the future unborn and young clones he had seen at the facility the day the Empire took power?  Were they safe?  Even alive?  All The Regs brainwashed by the chip.  All the Jedi murdered by them.  Did Caleb Dume ever make it to safety?  If so, was he scarred for life after seeing his master gunned down on Kaller, then having the Clones turn on him too?  It was all too much.  He felt small and overwhelmingly powerless.  Like absolute miserable shit. The only thing he could do was drown his emotions in whatever Cid’s bar was serving. 

Sometime later, after draining his drink, Hunter’s senses tingled.  Sitting up and rubbing his face, he caught a scent.  His nose found the source down the opposite end of the bar. She looked and smelled intriguing, and was staring intently into an empty glass.   

“Hey”, Hunter addressed Cid and nodded down the bar, “Who’s she?” 

The Trandoshan rolled her eyes, “Why?  Ya looking for a world of hurt, Bandana?  “Cause that’s all you’re gonna get with that one.” 

“No seriously, what’s her name?” 

“She comes here to drink alone.  The last idiot who didn’t respect her space left a permanent stain on my carpeting.  That Momma has zero patience for Bantha shit” 

“Momma???” 

“Yeah, she’s got a kid.  The dad split.  Just the two of them now.  And she’s protective of her kiddo.  They’re ‘Nomaadi”, so they tend to keep to themselves.” 

“Nomaadi?” 

Cid sighed and rolled her eyes again gesturing wildly, “Nomaadi!  Travs!  They wander the galaxy with no known homeworld.  Come on, Bandana, you never heard of ‘em?  Met ‘em???  Her people are scattered all over the place.  You must have had to move them along while you were working for the Republic?  The Republic considered Nomaadi trash, so they got pushed out.  And they just keep on moving around the galaxy.  This new Empire absolutely hates them.” 

Hunter let that sink in while staring down the bar.  Cid contemplated these two sad saps sitting at either end.  

“She reminds me of someone I know.  Got the weight of the whole galaxy on her shoulders.”  Hunter’s gaze immediately snapped up to meet Cid’s eyes.  She held his gaze for a long, uncomfortable moment hands on hips. 

“Her name is Mad.” Cid finally answered as she turned and walked away. 

Mad.  Was her name Mad for angry or crazy? He couldn’t tell, but he wanted to find out.  She was a welcome distraction from the things he wanted to stop thinking about tonight. 

Mad’s inner stream of consciousness was abruptly interrupted by Cid. “Find any amazing revelations in the bottom of that glass? You’re here to drink, not meditate.”  

Immediately she looked up to meet the bright green eyes of the Trandoshan. Cid’s first language usually was heavy sardonic sarcasm tinged with menace, but Mad saw a bit more in her demeanor. A tiny bit of empathy shining through…before the sarcasm blocked it out again.  

“Dark and Broody at the end of the bar wants to buy ya a drink if you’re interested.”  

Cid pointed towards a very handsome man with a red bandanna and face tattoo staring up the bar at them. He raised his hand in a brief two finger wave and cheesy half smile. An attempt of levity with some drunken smolder.  

Heavy sigh and groan from Mad. “No creepers, Cid.  Remember last time?” 

Cid leaned in against the bar. Her voice finding some softness, “He’s ok. Done some jobs for me. Got a kid of his own, no partner. Kinda lonely. You both look like you need a drink and time out of your own heads. Whaddya say?”  

Another sigh from Mad.  What did Mad really have to do tonight? The next job wasn’t until tomorrow afternoon.  And Love was back at the Beldame with Sil fiddling with the shield generator.  The puppy was probably tearing up and crapping all over the ship.  Maker, what was she gonna come back to?  Mad didn’t want to deal with any of it tonight.  Luckly, Sil seemed somewhat responsible enough, and Love rarely if ever left the Beldame without Mad at their side.  Both teens had dragged Mad down the gangplank in the direction of the bar. “Go have a drink!” they chimed in unison “We got this!” as they ran into the ship.  Oblivious young'uns, dear Maker, now she had two…three with the four-legged pot roast they just “adopted.” 

“Fuck it. You’re right. Can’t turn down free Spotchka.”  

Cid winked and turned away to grab a glass. Mad straightened up, looked down the bar, and gave her best devil may care smirk.  She then gracefully signed “thank you” in Basic Sign Language to Dark and Broody.  

Cid plunked down the Spotchka.  Mad tipped it back with abandon, enjoying the feel of the drink on her tongue. The pleasant burn. The warmth of it down the hatch…  

“HELLO.”  

Mad choked and spit the drink right onto Cid.  

“Smooth move, Bandana”, disgusted and slightly pissed Cid retreats to wipe herself down. Dark and Broody had suddenly and stealthily materialized in the seat next to Mad.  

The pleasant burn is now a fire in Mad’s nose and throat. Spotchka ran down her chin and onto the bar. “Are you trying to Kriffing kill me!” in between coughs. Anger rising. What the fuck, this guy! Dark and Broody looks embarrassed and concerned.  She briefly considers punching him in the face.  

“Sorry…I should have given you more warning” he replies while offering several napkins. Mad grabbed some from his hand holding them to her mouth.  

Cough subsiding, nose still burning, Mad takes in the visage of Hunter: Head of amazing thick black hair, trim body, muscular, deep brown eyes that she could get lost in… She shakes her head and his smokey, sexy voice slides into her ears, “You ok? Anything I can do?”  

Mad’s expression was ambiguous while trying to calm down.  She sits staring intensely at Hunter.  He noticed the depth of her eyes: flecks of yellow mingled with green.  While her surface demeanor gave little away, Hunter’s senses pick up anger, confusion…and a slight glimmer of attraction.  She looked like she might attack and eat him alive.   The prospect seemed exciting.   His eyes dropped and scrutinized her chest tattoo for the first time. 

“My eyes are up here, Stud” she growls.  He notices her noticing him looking at her chest and immediately becomes embarrassed.  His expression shows it, as his eyes widen and immediately shoot back up to her face.  “Just looking at your tattoo.  Honest” he raises both hands in surrender. 

“You always this smooth with the ladies?” 

“Little off my game tonight.  Can I try again?”  Hunter gives Mad a sly smile. 

Cid sidles back up to the bar, “Drinking only, no maiming…and NO sex in the bathroom.  If ya wanna do that, then leave my bar!”  Hands on her hips, looks across the room and suddenly shouts, “SHUT UP, YOU TWO, and mind yer own business!” 

Bolo and Ketch stop laughing and solemnly return to their game of Djarik. 

“Mad, I need Dark and Broody here in working condition for my next job.  So go easy on him.  He’s harmless.  Bandana, quit being such a laser brain.  You guys are stinkin’ up the joint with your buffoonery” she nods to Hunter, then Mad “and your angst.” 

Both Hunter and Mad, taken aback by Cid’s scolding, soften and relax.   

“Cid’s right.  I really am harmless…and a laser brain.  My name is Hunter.”   

He extends his hand to shake.  Mad continues to stare into Hunter’s deep brown eyes for several beats before extending her own and taking his hand.  As her fingers slide into his grasp, there is an intense warm wave that passes between them both that ends in a tingle.  Hunter and Mad’s body hair stands on end as the tingle runs up one arm, crosses their hearts and runs down the other arm.   

Hunter, trying to maintain his cool, gives a lopsided attempt at a smoldery smile while still holding Mads gaze.  Mad was never prepared for this sensory experience and immediately inhaled while her pupils dilate, and her face slightly flushes.  Hunter can hear her heart skip a beat, then pick up to a frenetic pace.  He smells perspiration as it begins to form upon her skin.  He also smells a faint hint of arousal.   

“Mad…”  She’s thrown off by what just happened and quickly pulls away.  She’s used to whatever crawls into the bar trying to daftly impress, threaten, cajole, talk down to, manhandle, or manipulate her.  He’s self-depreciating, disarming, and a bit goofy…while smoking hot.  She’s confused and warming up to this Hunter guy. But the walls are still up.  The urge to bust him in the chops has left her mind. 

“Wooo.  That was…intense!”  Mad’s feral demeanor fell away to shit eating grin and head tilt.  She fans herself with her hand.  That sensation was amazing!  What the hell did HE do?    

Hunter chuckled.  “Uh, yeeaaah…” Casually crosses his legs to hide a semi erection.  That sensation was amazing!  What the hell did SHE do? 

“That happen often?” 

“Nope.  You’re the first.”   

“Shush…flattery will get you everywhere” Mad leaned in closer to Hunter, still not breaking intense eye contact.  She was falling into the pool of those warm brown eyes.  Basking in them.  Hoping not to drown. 

“I can only hope,” he counters.  His heart flutters first, then he feels a second flutter between his crossed legs.  Physically he feels amazing.  Mentally, he feels like an idiot.  

Cid, leaning against the back of the bar, rolls her eyes.  “Can I get you love birds to move the party to The Oasis?  I can’t handle the melodrama.  Give ya a bottle of free Spotchka to get lost.” 

“The Oasis?”  Hunter said suddenly.  He was very confused.  To the best of his knowledge, Cid never mentioned it. 

“It’s a secret little hideaway.  She doesn’t let just anyone use it.”  Mad winked at Cid then gave Hunter a conspiratorial grin. 

Cid wrinkled her nose and shot Hunter a nasty look, “I never let your Batch in on it…except for Tiny.  Your ship smells like poodoo.  If you trash my Oasis, you’ll owe me FOREVER!”  She followed this up by pointing her long bony Trandoshan claw at him.   

Yep, that did it: Totally killed Hunters erection. 

Cid plunked down a full bottle on the bar.  Mad grabbed it as she got up from her bar stool.  “Care to join me for Spotchka under the stars…Hunky?”   

Two loud and very offended scoffs from across the room, “How come we don’t’ get free bottles?” 

“SHUT IT!” from Cid “Or you both are gonna get a bottle each…upside your heads!!!” 

Hunter could only answer with a smile and nod, grateful he could now get to his feet without embarrassment from a certain bodily function.  He followed Mad to Cid’s office and through a hidden doorway.  

“Don’t trash my Oasis!  I MEAN IT!!!”  came Cid’s shrill threat from the other room.   

Mad grabbed Hunters hand and led him through several dark winding stairways, many doorways, purposeful twists and turns that confused the sense of direction. The last door opened to a rooftop area… 

PLEASE like, comment, and/or REBLOG!

To read Chapter 2

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/728315714878980096/background-hunter-and-mad-bond-make-love-and?source=share

[electricbluebutterflies]

Hands rubbing together to warm them up + damerey kiddos

It is 2023 and I am formally back in this spiral and... doing my usual vaguely-post-canon thing that didn't happen several years ago due to Assorted Unrelated Personal Bullshit. Turns out I missed these babes. PG-ish, pre-relationship, and also on ao3.

She’s cold. She hates this.

There is, admittedly, a lot of life that Rey hasn’t experienced yet. An extended stay on an ice planet is not nor will it be the weirdest, but it’s still…

“Warm enough?”

There’s a lot more she needs to get used to, really. The fact that people care about her – both on a peripheral level, where it is very important that someone of her position have adequate clothing for every stop on what one of her friends described as the victory tour, and the existence of said friends, the fact that there are other living beings she trusts completely and-

Rey turns to look at her designated minder, who looks even less thrilled than she is about this particular adventure. “I will be. Eventually. Maybe.”

Normally this is the part where she’d add some little comment about how her comfort doesn’t matter, as long as she’s functional she’ll deal, but she’s learning to moderate that around certain people. Well, one specific person who absolutely refuses to listen to her and-

It’s not personal. It’s deeply personal. She’s not used to duality.

What she’s figured out, in these months of closure or whatever, is that the official reason they’re stuck together is the droid apparently has separation anxiety and that’s definitely a new one by her standards, and the unofficial one is that someone somewhere in Resistance administration figured that two chaotic humans would cancel each other out. This is… not exactly what’s happened, but it’s kept both of them out of trouble better than she suspects any other scheme would, and-

“So, not warm enough and going to pretend otherwise because you’re a self-sacrificing-“

“Like you’re any better!”

This is the part she’s gotten used to, the too-public verbal sparring matches that are still… affectionate, somehow. She heard all the rumors long before they got to this point, and she knows there’s no harm meant in whatever too-perceptive accusations might get thrown around, and-

“I think I’ve at least figured out layers,” Poe mutters, giving her an unimpressed look. “Whereas you…”

“Don’t… don’t make my inexperience into-“

“Worried, not amused. You look frozen.”

“I feel worse.”

“C’mere.”

She takes half a step closer and is unsurprised when his gloved hands wrap around hers, moving just slightly in repetitive motion, very careful not to touch the little strip of exposed skin between glove and jacket sleeve and-

“We’re getting you better gloves,” he murmurs.

“These are fine. They do fit. That’s more than-”

He gives her that look she’s starting to recognize as a specific flavor of… not exactly disappointment, that would imply more harm than she thinks he intends, but…

“Do you know how bad it looks for them if you get frostbite?”

“No?”

“Disaster. Complete petty disaster. We do not want that, understand?”

“Since when do you-“

Her voice cuts off as she processes the accusations that want to fall out that… aren’t quite accurate, really. Almost everyone she’s met in this world has been kind to her, at worst in awe and confused, but this man is…

“I’m sorry,” she says just a little too soft. “I know you care. I’m not sure why, but-“

“I have a droid who likes you more than me, you kinda saved the galaxy, and…”

“And?”

“I like you. Does it have to be more complicated than that?”

Yes, she thinks, yes it absolutely does have to be more complicated, but… she has months of evidence that it may not be. He’s been consistently kind and protective in a different way than anyone else, but it hasn’t gone any clear direction yet. No comments about her appearance, let alone-

“You like me,” she repeats, and the words taste right in her mouth. “That’s…”

“I didn’t mean to-“

“I don’t mind. I’m just… unsure what you want me to do with it.”

“Right now… nothing? I’m not sure I should’ve said that but-“

“Probably better to get it over with. Gives me time.”

“No pressure, okay? I’m not-“

“Do you ever stop talking?”

“What, is that not helping?”

Rey rolls her eyes in a way she hopes comes off as flirtatious and okay she’s never wanted to do that before and-

“I trust you,” she says, glancing down at their hands. “That isn’t…”

“Still-“

“We can fight about this when I’m not an icicle. Deal?”

“Deal.”

[iamnicodemus]

CHAPTER 2, here we go!

And here we meet the OC/Reader. I like her already. I like the sharp contrast between how she views soulmates and how Wednesday views them, and I'm excited to see those viewpoints collide even as they fall for each other.

It goes without saying that your writing is always superb. You maintain such excellent quality across all of your fics and it's a skill that I both greatly admire and envy.

Let's dive into this.

With a soft sigh, you typed back the generic response you always gave your mom, a sweet thanks and I love you that usually did the trick so she wouldn’t press the matter.

Yup, can relate. Moms will mom.

Your mother always talked with you about soulmates, about how she was lucky to have found hers and that maybe you would be too. But at the end of the day, she was also a realist. She had never once allowed you to dream too big, hope too much. Because she knew it wasn’t a reality for everyone.

You grew up in a world of maybes. Maybe you will find yours, maybe you won’t; both are okay. And that was your truth, you were content with any outcome.

I mentioned already that I like how different Y/N and Wednesday's outlook on soulmates is, but for Y/N especially, I like the "it is what it is" attitude she has towards it. Cool if it happens, fine if it doesn't, doesn't wanna worry too much about it. Very practical. Better than I'd probably handle it, lol. If I didn't meet them, accidentally made contact with them without identifying them, or it didn't work out for whatever reason, I'd be super bummed out more than likely.

It’s strange how a few seconds can change a lifetime.

You had never cared much about having a bond with someone, but then you felt it. It was almost palpable if you focused enough, that fragile red string tied around your finger, sending shockwaves to your heart and changing its rhythm.

Overnight, the thought of breaking this bond became almost unfathomable.

Have I told you that you're a great writer? Because I felt this shift. You put it so succinctly, yet so powerfully. I'd imagine it's one thing to just know there's a soulmate out there, but to actually experience that sensation, that physical manifestation of the bond... how can one not be moved by it in some fashion or another?

She was all raven black hair and smooth pale skin, her lips had a dark shade of burgundy to them, shaping the lines to perfection; if you squinted, you could see freckles over her nose; her eyes were just as dark as her hair, lashes kissing the corner of her cheeks as she blinked once, twice and then kept her gaze on you with a faint frown to her eyebrows.

Great, here I go swooning over Wednesday again.

Something about her got your heartbeat going haywire. It was addictive.

Much like these fics.

Yet there was something about you that got her feeling uneasy when she considered parting ways.

She wasn’t. She wasn’t bothered that it wasn’t you. Because the thought of hating you was slightly unappealing.

She's falling already. It's happening!

And was it bad that your panicked face was somewhat adorable?

IT'S HAPPENING. Oh, this romance is gonna be so fun.

Wednesday watched the way you raised a hand to the poor flower, fingertips grazing the tip of its petals, and from each place you touched, a burst of life erupted. Slowly, the flower regained its bright colors, the leaves standing tall again in a deep shade of green at the same time that a loving smile came to your lips.

Y/N's power is hella cool. Restorative, invigorating, even wholesome as supernatural abilities go - and another interesting contrast to the vibe of Wednesday herself.

I've got some plants in my bedroom that Y/N is free to resurrect if she wants to, btw.

You looked up at Wednesday, not expecting to find her eyes already on you; dark as the night, if you looked closely, you could find galaxies in them to get lost in. You couldn’t remember ever becoming this quickly infatuated with someone before, so much so, that it got you wondering — hoping — what if it’s her?

Esther, I'm gonna need you to stop making me simp for Wednesday more than I already do.

LOL nah but who can blame Y/N here?

“Because no one asked for it, it’s an inconvenience that’s forced upon you. And people expect you to just accept it, love it, even,” Wednesday told you, her eyebrows scrunched together in anger, “why would I ever want something like that?”

This romance is going to be so very fascinating. I love how you've established how soulmates, though certainly a thing, aren't infallible. They can fail. They don't always work out. Just because they exist doesn't mean the people involved will be automatically compatible. It ultimately comes down to the people themselves, and I'm a huge fan of that. Very grounded take on the soulmate concept.

A great second chapter that leaves me excited to read the rest.

sweet calamity | ch 2

Wednesday Addams x Reader

Series Summary: It was something people described as the sweetest pain, the feeling of when the soul that's destined to find yours is closer to you. Wednesday saw it as a curse, promised herself she would hate whoever was chosen for her; but it's easier said than done.

A/N: Slowly, the story is shaping itself, hopefully y'all will like it. Also thank you so much for 7.5K followers, love ya. <3

Masterlist | Read ch 1 here

It was rare the times where you woke up before your alarm, given that you weren't exactly a morning person. But you could barely sleep last night, excitement and apprehension twirling inside your stomach; so it was no surprise when you woke up with the birds this morning.

Today was your first official day at Nevermore, the place where, supposedly, you belong. You were lucky to already know a few of the students here, Eugene for one, who had given you a basic tour of the school yesterday.

To say that Nevermore was big would be an understatement, the ancient, castle-like structure had your anxiety spiking as soon as you walked through the gates. It was a given that you'd take your sweet time getting lost here.

Just as you are right now.

You were leaning back on one of the stone walls on the quad, cell phone in hand as you read one of your mother's latest texts; have a good first day darling, remember to make friends and don't isolate yourself, love you.

With a soft sigh, you typed back the generic response you always gave your mom, a sweet thanks and I love you that usually did the trick so she wouldn't press the matter.

Stashing your phone on your backpack, your gaze roamed over the hallways and doorways, searching for any clues on where the hell botany class was supposed to be. Technically, you could just ask someone. Your fellow outcast colleagues came and went, passing by you nonstop. Yet part of you didn't want to be the lost newbie.

You pushed yourself away from the wall, turning around on the spot, forcing your peers to dodge you as you took a slow step backward to get some new perspective.

And that's when it happened again, so suddenly this time that it got you stumbling on your own feet.

It reminded you of when you accidentally touched that hot frying pan when you were seven. The burning, sharp and angry against your skin; right on the pulse point of your wrist. The same one you felt for the very first time just yesterday, and maybe that was the main reason for your restlessness today.

Your mother always talked with you about soulmates, about how she was lucky to have found hers and that maybe you would be too. But at the end of the day, she was also a realist. She had never once allowed you to dream too big, hope too much. Because she knew it wasn't a reality for everyone.

You grew up in a world of maybes. Maybe you will find yours, maybe you won't; both are okay. And that was your truth, you were content with any outcome.

Until yesterday.

It's strange how a few seconds can change a lifetime.

You had never cared much about having a bond with someone, but then you felt it. It was almost palpable if you focused enough, that fragile red string tied around your finger, sending shockwaves to your heart and changing its rhythm.

Overnight, the thought of breaking this bond became almost unfathomable.

Your backpack bumped into someone when you lost your footing, you quickly turned around with an apology on your lips, but the person spoke first;

"Whoever it was, do it again and I will break each of your fingers." She spoke lowly, with a bite to her tone that gave you goosebumps.

You could tell she straightened her tie before turning around to face you, and once she did so — ever so slowly — any words you had tangled on your tongue faded completely.

She was all raven black hair and smooth pale skin, her lips had a dark shade of burgundy to them, shaping the lines to perfection; if you squinted, you could see freckles over her nose; her eyes were just as dark as her hair, lashes kissing the corner of her cheeks as she blinked once, twice and then kept her gaze on you with a faint frown to her eyebrows.

Something about her got your heartbeat going haywire. It was addictive.

Only when the silence was bordering awkward that you found your voice again; "shit, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to bump into you." It didn't help your nerves that you could feel the eyes of the passing students on you, as if they were watching a live decapitation ceremony — plus the ever-present ache on your skin.

Talk about an eventful first day.

All the girl did was angle her chin up, her eyes skimming up and down your body. "Stop walking backwards and maybe it won't happen again."

You pursed your lips, nodding once. Touche. "That's great advice, actually." You attempted a smile, but when you got no response back, you continued; "uh anyway, I have to go to botany class so, I see you around?"

If you looked closely, you could tell she acknowledged your words with a nod of her own. Figuring that's all you were getting, you turned around and took a step the opposite way.

A beat or two passed, almost as if she was considering if you were worth her time of day or not.

"I'm heading to botany as well," the raven-haired girl's voice called after you.

You looked at her over your shoulder.

"And that is not the way." She told you pointedly, raising a perfectly styled eyebrow at you.

Good one, idiot. Was all you could think to yourself.

You stood in the middle of the hallway with six feet between you and the girl whose name you were already itching to know, unsure if she wanted you to tag along or not.

"I'm not gonna wait on you forever," she said then, impatiently, and you scrambled to fall into step beside her.

You followed by her side as she left the quad, passing through Nevermore's gardens — which were breathtaking this time of year, the huge trees with a mix of faded green and yellow on their leaves, some of them already forming a blanket on the grass beneath them, old stone paths for you to walk on and a cold breeze in the air, countered by warm sunlight; you could spend hours out here — until you saw the big greenhouse in the distance.

"Thank you for this," you spared a timid glance at the girl beside you, "really, I would probably still be walking in circles if it wasn't for you."

There was no response other than a blank look in your general direction; you wanted to hear her voice though. "I'm Y/N, by the way." The question about her own name went unsaid.

Did you always have the need to speak so much? Wednesday wondered.

By no means, she was one to care enough in helping newcomers find their way around. They could be bothersome, asking too many questions and delaying her routine.

Yet there was something about you that got her feeling uneasy when she considered parting ways. For a second, she wondered if it was your soul that was doomed with hers, but you had already bumped into her and the cursed burning was still there; with no pattern to it, ever unpredictable, resembling the push and pull of waves on the oceanside yet never going away entirely.

And Wednesday wanted to be annoyed, she should be annoyed, shouldn't she? Because the sooner she finds out who her other half is, the sooner she can put an end to it.

She wasn't. She wasn't bothered that it wasn't you. Because the thought of hating you was slightly unappealing.

Her jaw was tight, sunlight framing her profile and reflecting on her pupils as she said; "Wednesday."

Were you going to be another Enid? Talking her ears off every given minute only to warp your way inside her cold heart eventually?

Wednesday let out an indignant scoff at the mere thought of it.

Her response lit you up like a Christmas tree; "Enid's roommate?"

You reached the greenhouse and Wednesday stopped in front of the glass doors. She turned to face you, her eyebrows scrunched in confusion.

"Uh, we're friends," you were quick to elaborate, eyes focused on the way Wednesday's fringe flowed with the wind, "well, our parents are friends so we became friends too, she talked a lot about you on vacation. I almost feel like I already know you."

To that, Wednesday sharpened her gaze daringly, sure that Enid's version of her had the potential to be twisted into something sweetly inaccurate.

And was it bad that your panicked face was somewhat adorable?

"Not trying to imply that I do," you hurriedly said, eyes a tad too wide, "I'm just saying that I've heard a lot about you."

You amused her; the same way a cat finds it amusing to play with its prey. There was a ghost of a smile on Wednesday's lips; "yes, we do share a room."

The greenhouse was already partly filled with students when you walked in together, its glass walls almost entirely covered by plants, allowing only little bits of sunlight to come through as the smell of several different flowers engulfed your senses.

There were a few seats empty, but when you settled on a table at the back, Wednesday felt compelled to follow suit, making herself comfortable on the chair beside yours.

You kept surprisingly quiet during most of the class, taking notes in your notebook and occasionally tapping your pen against the paper but other than that, quiet. Wednesday felt strangely at ease in your company.

Wednesday had her hands neatly resting on the table, half listening to the new teacher's boring explanation about a poisonous plant and half counting the new species added to the greenhouse since she last came here.

She had counted twelve by the time her attention was captured, by you, no less.

There was a potted orchid resting by your side, it was a small thing, its soil a little too dry and its petals a little too pale — apparently the new teacher wasn't as attentive with her plants.

Wednesday watched the way you raised a hand to the poor flower, fingertips grazing the tip of its petals, and from each place you touched, a burst of life erupted. Slowly, the flower regained its bright colors, the leaves standing tall again in a deep shade of green at the same time that a loving smile came to your lips.

"Interesting," this time, Wednesday was the one to break the silence.

Her voice made you flinch, as if you had been in your own world for a moment. You took a deep breath before saying; "she was looking a little sad."

With her eyes still on the colorful orchid, Wednesday asked; "you make things come to life?"

"Uh, plants mostly," you shrugged, like even you didn't know the full extent of your abilities, "but yeah."

You looked up at Wednesday, not expecting to find her eyes already on you; dark as the night, if you looked closely, you could find galaxies in them to get lost in. You couldn't remember ever becoming this quickly infatuated with someone before, so much so, that it got you wondering — hoping — what if it's her?

The hairs on your arm stood up, a shiver going up and down your back. Could it be her?

"Enid always loved it," you forced out, at the same time that you forced the what-ifs out of your head — because you could almost hear your mother saying; hope is dangerous, don't ever let it overcrowd your senses. "She used to tell me that I'm lucky, that I could just conjure up any bouquet I'd want when I find my soulmate," you grinned at the memory, "and I always told her it was not that simple, that I can't make things out of thin air."

"Enid can be naive," Wednesday stated, tone a tad too tight, "she often times sees the world through rainbow lenses."

You chuckled, "do I sense some disdain?"

There's a beat before Wednesday says anything; a beat where she just looks at you, wondering when you got so comfortable with her, and why she let you.

"Quite the contrary," she tells you then, "Enid is one of the few people I tolerate here."

You smiled faintly, eyes downcast and focusing on Wednesday's hands instead of her eyes, "not for Enid."

Wednesday blinked slowly as understanding downed on her, she straightened in her seat; "most people fail to realize that having your soul linked to another is nothing short of a burden." Her words rolled off her tongue easily, that was her truth.

You nodded, not agreeing but acknowledging her view, "why would it be a burden?"

"Because no one asked for it, it's an inconvenience that's forced upon you. And people expect you to just accept it, love it, even," Wednesday told you, her eyebrows scrunched together in anger, "why would I ever want something like that?"

Your lips parted as you felt her hatred as if it was choking you, her black nails tapping against the table at the same rhythm your heart pumped blood. "What happens if you meet yours?"

"For their sake, I hope it never happens."

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Read ch 3 here

Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keeps me motivated to continue posting here, so I'd appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment if you want. <3

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[bilyana-bang]

I’ve never understood why people don’t like ageing ! I love being older than before, moving through life, cleansing any bad that ever was and an opportunity to create good. You’re always the same conscious focus 🧘🏻 only biologically ageing. All the women I've ever loved, my mum, sister, auntie and grandma have always been older than me and I always wanted to look like them and be like them. To one day grow up look at your own face, look at your own hands and see theirs. To see their wrinkles, their age spots! I love the connection! I've always loved ageing ! I love looking different than before because how else can you prove time moves, that you have grown or that it’s time to make a new memory, how else can you solidify a memory in time? How else can you solidify a feeling in the physical time space reality and with one look remember everything you felt? Ageing is our diary. Life is so beautiful that it says you focus on whatever you desire, I'll remember everything for you. Ageing is our clock of time. Without the clock you’d live in an illusion of infinity. Without ageing you’d live in the illusion of a non-human life. But if it was so fun to be a non-earthly focus, a non-human, then you'd never have come to Earth to be one. At the end of the day, why set yourself up to hate life the way it was made.😊😘 Also I think the older you get the more attractive you get as a woman. Your skin becomes more fragile, soft, delicate, sensitive. These are all attractive feminine features that young women don't have until we get older 😊 Have you felt womens' skin in their 50s. So soft and much more sensual than that of a young woman. Plus the older the women the more people want to protect her. Instant charm ✨️ only older women have that instant innate feminine charm and pull. We grow into it!

Also everyone is a soul. Our bodies constantly change and look different. We are all of those changes because they all carried our soul. And our soul is beautiful and worthy therefore all that our bodies are, were, and will be, was always going to be beautiful and worthy. This is why you never notice when people age and change, because your love for them never diminishes. Therefore their beauty never does either. Beauty is a radiant love you feel for someone. Have you noticed how a nice person never looks ugly and a mean person never looks beautiful. The bodies we have as humans will never outdo the qualities we have as humans. Therefore, I love so much that we age. There is no young nor old. There are people born on the planet during different times. We all go through the same process. The old was young, the young will be old. We are young, we are old. We are human. A human should be enjoyed in all its glory, and the glory that it was designed. We never judge a tree for shedding leaves. We never judge the sunset for taking away the light. We never judge the weather for changing. We never judge when we get tired and ready to go sleep. We never judge processes that change into something different. Yes a naked tree looks cold, yes darkness is scary, yes storms are unpleasant, yes sleeping takes away so much productiveness of what could be in our waking life.

But notice how your mind always thinks about the benefits of change. A naked tree shows the intricacy of the branches, a dark sky reveals the galaxy 🌌, a storm can make the coziest of days, sleeping can create dreams where you can meet a loved one, alive or not - once again. Changing through a process was never scary. A quote by Teal Swan states that there is no fear of the unknown. You only fear what you project. Therefore the fearful outcome never existed. Meaning, being scared of ageing was never the truth of life. Being fearful and depressed of how you have changed was never the real view of life. We already know the fearful side, so can you imagine how much beauty and benefits we have never even thought about from ageing and changing bodies.

Growing with friends, respecting and loving your parents more. Looking at the younger generation and seeing your old self and healing, due to how innocent and vulnerable you now saw your self to be. A changing body can make you detach all earthly attachments and make you focus on your soul. Who are you if you aren't physical? It makes you focus more on how you feel in your body rather than how you look. Do you want to be more energetic, less hungry, feel lighter after a meal, feel stronger? Which once again makes you happier because you are following your gut instinct of what's right for you not for society. You start listening to tiny nuances of discomfort and comfort and begin to form your food beliefs. You attune to yourself more. A changing body can also make you feel more grounded by making you understand how you feel in 3D space. Someone might want to take up more space, someone might want to feel tighter, someone might want to be softer. This all guides you to your true desires. A benefit of ageing is also the connection you feel with your generation. You all look alike and no generation looks like you. You bond more as a society. You begin to cherish people and understand that we are all living different realities. Ones you have been through and done, others you haven't reached yet. The ones infront of you, the older generation than you, you start to love and respect, because they try out the life you will lead before you, they make the path seem less scary. The next phase you are going into, the bed is already warm. There is advice, there is help, there is guidance, there is room for change. Souls born in different times is all we are. But the most important part is that the soul never changed. We have always been the same consciousness since birth.

Therefore the coolest part, is that the person may be older, and you, younger, you older and them younger. But when you meet and talk, the souls recognise that eventhough they are different in arrival they are equal in existence. And that is when you feel a beautiful part of life. That we are one and the same. And we are living life together.

- Bilyana

[newronantic]

HAIKYUU!! FICS

so this is mostly gonna be for myself to keep track of my favorite fics i’ve read, but hey if anyone else wants to check some of these out then thats great

MHA one is up!!

ill keep updating this as i read more, feel free to send me suggestions!

KageHina

plain as day - emleewrites

In which Hinata has spent the better part of the last twenty years putting his heart and soul into volleyball, hoping to be recognised, to be noticed. And yet he spends all these years also thinking of himself as rather plain, beyond his lack of height and bright hair, and not really noticeable at all.

In Transit - Mysecretfanmoments

Hinata finds that he likes standing close to Kageyama on buses and trains. It doesn't mean anything--probably. Maybe.

I like the way your clothes smell - Mysecretfanmoments

Power outages, ghost stories, and the presence of a certain orange-haired boy lead to bad decision-making on Tobio's part. He'd planned to keep his crush a secret; the universe has other plans.

Chaotic Neutral - akaraka

Who's this Kageyama person on twitter and is he gay?

1: Anonymous: see title

2: Anonymous: curry king

3: Anonymous >> 1: It's the curry king, obviously. Have you been using his memes this whole time without knowing who he was?

4: Anonymous: 1) Hinata Shouyou's boyfriend 2) See above

jellyfish - mysterytwin

At the beginning of his last year at Karasuno High School, Hinata Shouyou starts a list and calls it THINGS TO DO BEFORE GRADUATION, all with high hopes that he’ll be able to complete it before his time runs out.

TsukkiYama

Try This On For Size - CloudMonsta

A lot changed for Yamaguchi Tadashi over the course of high school. He started trying on dresses, for one.

The Great Yamaguchi-Tsukishima Split (Capitalization Necessary) - WyYeuw

"But no, the current situation isn’t normal. This situation requires the full attention of the team.

No, what’s really concerning this time around, is that Yamaguchi is the one ignoring Tsukishima.”

Yamaguchi confesses. Tsukishima fucks up—like, really fucks up. The volleyball club notices and loses a week’s worth of practice.

IwaOi

Terrarium - sausaged

He's practically a professional at being proactive (lies, lies, and lies when it comes to Iwaizumi).

At this point, is he really happy with just staying best friends forever? Will he be writing journals and collecting rocks forever (he will, he knows, but that is aside from the point)?

Can he really tag his Instagram photos with #YOLO if he doesn't actually put that phrase into practice?

A story about Oikawa Tooru, Iwaizumi Hajime, plants, and rocks.

They Say it Rain Diamonds on Jupiter - exsao

"You're in love with him."

Hajime considers denying it. He considers deliberately choking on his drink to express surprise, to create a distraction by spitting onto the man in front of him's pristine white shirt and causing a commotion. Instead, he swallows his mouthful of soda and heaves a small sigh once his mouth is free.

"Yeah," he says instead.

He's never been good at lying, anyway.

bait and switch - Stylographic_Blue_Rhapsody

Oikawa's university volleyball team knows he's in a long-distance relationship with someone from high school. They imagine a sweet-faced girl that matches his sarcasm with patience. They are so incredibly wrong.

my heart is where it’s always been - foreverautumn

Iwaizumi places his phone down carefully.

Oikawa. Pining after someone. There’s no way.

(Iwaizumi knows he shouldn’t care who Oikawa might have feelings for, but within the span of three days, it’s somehow the only thing he can think about.)

KuroKen

Beautiful People Will Ruin Your Life - todxrxki

Kuroo Tetsurou runs a private Twitter account where he's constantly tweeting about how desperately in love he is with Kozume Kenma. Little does he know that Kenma sees all the tweets and keeps referencing the account in an attempt to get Kuroo to confess to him. / Or, five times Kuroo didn't notice Kenma hinting about his private Twitter account, and one time he finally did.

the things that get caught in the valves of his heart - ghostpot

Emotional competency is not exactly Kuroo's strong suit. Kenma finds it quite amusing.

Accidentally In Love - todxrxki

Kuroo frowns, but then slowly, the corners of his mouth lift up into a smirk. "Well, if it's so unbelievable, why don't we give it a try?"

Kenma glances up at him curiously. "What do you mean?"

"Let's do the 36 questions to fall in love," Kuroo says, still smirking stupidly. "If we don't fall in love, then you're right, it's bullshit. But if we do somehow..." Kuroo waggles his eyebrows. "Then I win." / Kuroo decides he and Kenma should do the 36 questions to fall in love as a joke, but they both start to realize they might actually be in love already.

the galaxy is endless (i thought we were, too) - cosmogony

TW: major character death

Kuroken AU where the last words your soulmate will say to you appear on your skin when you turn 16, and how Kenma and Kuroo learn what this means over the course of their lives

even if you’re ahead for a bit, i will catch up - ghostpot

Kuroo first confesses when they're sticky-fingered, wide-eyed kids, and subsequently every day after that. Kenma takes a while to come around.

you’re the brake lines failing (as my car swerves off the freeway) - ghostpot

Kenma thinks that Kuroo looks ugly with his head bent against the arm of the couch like that. Then Kenma thinks that he wants to marry him, and is promptly thrown into the 5 stages of grief.

teach me the way home - icespyders

“Don’t go far off, not even for a day, because —

because — I don’t know how to say it: a day is long

and I will be waiting for you, as in an empty station

when the trains are parked off somewhere else, asleep.”

Kuroo and Kenma grow up in transit.

in this universe - crossbelladonna

Living with Kuroo is sometimes, just like this. It always feels surreal like he's living half a world and a lot of things rush by too quickly. Kenma feels like he'd watched him come and go in a blink, eyes wide and wordless as the shared space went snug in an instant and far larger in the next.

All this, and a glass of water.

Beginning’s End - todxrxki

Somehow over the course of Kenma's lifetime, he’s never really had an opportunity to miss Kuroo. He’s always been there. Even when they went to different schools, Kuroo would meet him afterwards so they could walk home together, shoulders brushing, Kuroo occasionally taking the opportunity to guide him when his nose was buried in the newest video game. The thought of Kuroo not being there anymore is uncomfortable, to say the least. / Kozume Kenma's third year and the changes the year brings in himself and his relationship with Kuroo Tetsurou.

All I Want for Christmas is You - todxrxki

“Kuro,” he says. “You’re a single guy.”

“Yeah, great, thanks for pointing that out.”

“And my parents already know you, plus they already know you like guys or whatever so… what if you pretended to be my date for Christmas dinner?” / In which Kenma recruits his housemate and best friend Kuroo to be his fake date for Christmas.

BokuAka

just to miss the sun - rosevtea

Everything begins to implode when MSBY Jackals outside hitter Bokuto Koutarou crashes Akaashi's livestream.

Operation BokuAka - kazzydolyn

After spending two whole years watching Bokuto and Akaashi pine for one another, the rest of the Fukuroudani Volleyball Club has had enough. When everyone meets up for a reunion dinner, the team decides to play matchmaker and finally get the two of them together. Unfortunately, their plan starts to fall apart when they discover that Akaashi is already dating someone. And apparently so is Bokuto. What a strange coincidence.

bitter - silvercistern

He accepted his classmate's chocolates gracefully, then declared his lack of interest with as much dignity as he could muster. She deserved the courtesy. At least she'd acknowledged that Valentine's Day was all about her, and not about him in the slightest.

Because if any of these girls had taken the time to actually get to know him, they’d quickly realize something even more important than his lack of interest in girls.

And that was that Akaashi hated sweets.

In Another Life - LittleLuxray

TW: major character death

Sleeping didn't come as easy as it used to. Bokuto knew this, and now Akaashi did, too.

The hospital AU that no body asked for, but that I took upon myself to write.

120% yes - pissedofsandwich

TOKYO FRANCHISE COMING SOON @OnigiriMiya

in reply to @bokkun_official 

Congratulations! In celebration of your historic engagement, please DM us so we can send you a free membership code with a 25% discount on every fourth purchase!

Kissing Ace - karasunovolleygays

It happens right after training camp.

Akaashi Keiji has a secret he has guarded since he was a child. He won’t go so far as to call it a fear, but more of an aspect of himself of which he is horribly mortified. No one on the team knows about it, and Akaashi does his best to keep it that way.

But years of dodging hugs and casual contact come to naught in the blink of an eye and the swipe of a hand.

daisy rings and frivolous things (i am deliriously in love with you) - gabstar

Akaashi Keiji is in love. Bokuto Koutarou is a star. Everyone on Fukurodani has a gambling problem.

SakuAtsu

The MSBY Black Jackals Read Thirst Tweets - isaksara (syailendra)

Sakusa’s eyes are very dark naturally, sucking in all surrounding rays of light and crushing them in his pupils. For an athlete, he is rather pale. His lips look very pink in comparison. Atsumu is suddenly catastrophically aware that in this instance, ‘accent’ is a euphemism. “Good enough for your Olympic-size ego, Miya?”

(In which Atsumu realizes that he is attracted to Sakusa Kiyoomi in the most inconvenient way possible.)

A Liar’s Truth - internetpistol

In which Sakusa Kiyoomi is raised to believe that gay people go to hell but then takes one look at Miya Atsumu and thinks, then why the hell did God make them so fucking hot?

[wlw-peachylsbn]

the only heaven i'll be sent to (is when I'm alone with you) (bellatrix lestrange x reader)

A/N: Okie dokie, girls and gays! So! This is going to be a sub!Bella fic. Now I know what you all might be thinking, Bella is a dom, but you know what? It's not my fault my brain is so big and sexy, and I'm on a whole new galaxy. Thanks to @bellatrixscurls for inspiring me!!!

We have some praise and degradation, a bit of a choking kink, pet play, a big ass Mommy kink, and like. A shoe kink?

Your quill jumps from one line to the next, not stopping even when your love walks into the room. You're only half done with this essay, and you still need to finish one more after this. Thanks to Bellatrix's interference, you slacked off during the weekend, preferring to share her bed and lounge about. Though, who could blame you?

So deep in thought, you don’t notice Bellatrix as she moves closer to you, heaving a deep sigh.

"Did you need something, Bella?" You tap your quill, still thinking about the right way to form this one sentence.

"Yes, I actually did.” She shrugs, taking a step closer so there's only a sliver of space between you. It's an odd position, really, and you have to crane your head back to gaze at her.

"Yes?" You reach up to tangle your feelings in her curls. When you tug lightly, a shiver runs through her body.

Oh. You pause, looking Bellatrix over shrewdly. Your weekend wasn't just relaxing; you also discovered some wonderful, nasty details about your lover. Specifically, some certain kinks she had.

“Oh, did you want Mommy, sweetheart?” you coo, tugging on her curls again.

Another shiver runs through Bellatrix’s body as she kneels before you, eyes big and soft. You can already tell that she's slipping into her subspace, an experience you both have discussed thoroughly. You haven't acted on it quite yet though, but today might be the perfect time to rectify that.

“That’s right, go get on your knees, darling.” Your hand comes reassuringly down on Bellatrix’s shoulder, pressing her to kneel completely.

God. Bellatrix is absolutely beautiful like this, with her hair wild and a curl in her face, her eyes wide with starry-eyed longing, like she thinks you hold her world up. Of course, you would be lying if you said it didn't arouse you to see Bellatrix on her knees for you, only for you. She's such a dominant, tough personality, which leads people to assume she would be in charge in the bedroom. Sometimes she is, but she also confessed that playing with submission would be incredibly arousing for her. You're the only one she trusts with her secrets, which infuses the scene with more tenderness than you expect.

“Am I doing okay, Mommy?” A whisper, light as air, settles in between the two of you.

You know how deeply Bellatrix needs reassurance. Mainly praise. She didn’t say such a thing in as many words, but you know her. A kind word or a light touch makes her clingy, but praise, full, unrestrained, lengthy praise will make her … well. You don’t know yet, but you can’t wait to find out soon.

“You’re doing amazing, sweetheart, being such a good girl. Just sit there for Mommy, alright? I want you to relax a bit.”

“But, Mommy, I feel fine, I don’t want to—”

“Quiet. Now. Do not question me.” Steel enters your tone just as quickly as Bellatrix whines. She sticks out her bottom lip, scowling in a rather cute manner, you admit. But you wipe away any trace of amusement from your face. “If you act like a brat, you can go back to your room and pout there instead.”

Another scowl, this one deeper, crosses her face, but she grudgingly nods and lowers her eyes. You resume looking at your paper, pretending to work, but your mind races, returning to your little brat at your feet. Should you keep her in suspense for a while longer? Or really draw it out until she pleads?

“Mommy?”

Well, that didn’t take too long at all.

“Yes?” You keep your tone purposefully neutral.

“Are you mad?”

“No, just disappointed.”

Bellatrix pouts. Again. “I hate when you say that.”

“I know, darling, but if you were good, I wouldn’t have to say it so much.”

“ ‘m sorry.”

“What was that?” You raise your eyebrow, not ready to drop the matter yet.

“I’m sorry, Mommy. I just …” Bellatrix has never been one to conceal her feelings. You can see the hesitance warring with want, clear as day, as she ducks her head, avoiding your searching gaze. “I …”

“What is it, honey? You know you can tell me anything.” You lightly grab her chin with your hand, tugging until she’s facing you. “You know I would never judge you.”

“Can you be really Mommy? And make me feel like your little girl again?” Heat blooms in her pale cheeks, and when she hides her face again, you let her. “I just wanna … be good for you. Please?”

The tenderness from earlier returns, and you coo, “Oh, I see now. You want me to tell you what to do? Do you crave my firm hand? My harsh touch? Come now, good girls use their words.”

“I want you to be nice, Mommy. To make me feel really good. But I want you to be mean, too.” To anyone else, Bellatrix’s words would sound like a convoluted mess. And they are, to some extent. But you can always soothe her mind and untangle her web of feelings.

“I see now, darling. Of course, I’ll do that. You just be my good girl and let me take care of everything, alright?”

“Yes, please, thank you, Mommy.” She looks up finally, and you can see the self-awareness leaving her body. There’s no more shame, just that adoring look you aim to see. It’s just you and her. Mommy and baby girl.

“That’s right. You just want to be my perfect little slut, don’t you?”

You watch carefully as Bellatrix gasps, eyes slipping shut as she leans forward. “Yes, Mommy, thank you, Mommy.”

“That’s right, you just sit still and be a good little toy for me.” You hum almost absent-mindedly, reaching to grasp her chin again, turning it this way and that. You appraise her, eyes lingering on her pale throat. Even her neck is beautiful, all exposed skin and deep hollows. “Would you like a collar, darling?” You slowly move your hand as you talk, effectively choking her, though you don’t apply much pressure.

“Oh, Merlin, please, Mommy? Yes, yes,” Bellatrix says, eyes pleading. “I’ll be good.”

“Would you? You want to be my little pet so badly, hmm? I think I’ll arrange for a nice thick collar, a pretty one, too. A dark red, since I know you love that colour so much. What do you think, pet?”

Bellatrix downright whines. She scoots as close as she can, practically sitting on top of your feet. “Please, I want to be your pet, and I want your collar too!”

“Yes, a collar sounds very nice,” you muse. Then you tighten your grip around Bellatrix’s throat a moment later. Her eyes slip shut, her hands reaching to steady herself on your leg. “You’re always my pretty whore that I can use, yes?”

“Always, but can you please touch me now, Mommy? I need you.” She tries a pout again, and although you want to kiss it anyway, you don’t budge.

“I thought you were my toy, though? I don’t recall you having the control here. So be a good little girl and be quiet.”

“But I’m so wet for you, Mommy. I can’t wait any longer.”

You sigh and click your tongue. “Don’t test me again. You’re my pet, remember?”

“Always.”

“But since you want to come so bad …” You cock your head to the side, a smirk forming on your lips.

“Yes, Mommy? I’ll do whatever you say.”

“Anything?”

“Anything.” Her dark eyes are lightened with trust. Complete, absolute trust as she waits patiently for your orders. You could make her do anything, you know that. But you only have one thing in mind.

You extend your shoe, laying it flat on the floor. The confusion that sparks in her eyes is downright adorable. Bellatrix cocks her head to the side, looking very much like a confused pet. “Needy little girls like you don’t deserve my fingers or mouth. If you want to come so bad, you can use my shoe and prove yourself.”

“Mommy?”

In a flash, you lean down, pressing your forehead to hers. Bellatrix’s hands come up around your shoulders, balling your shirt in her fists. She falls silent, taking a moment to breathe as you ask, “Baby? Is everything alright? If you want this to end, you know your safeword.”

“I’m okay, thank you, Mommy. Can we continue, please?”

“Of course, sweet girl.” You press a quick kiss to her forehead before pulling back, falling easily into your role again. “Or should I say, you little brat? I see you, trying to distract me.”

“I didn’t mean to, Mommy. How can I make it up to you?” Bellatrix peers up at you through her eyebrows innocently.

You say nothing, choosing to hold your shoe out again. For the second time today, Bellatrix blushes, a pink hue rising in her cheeks and chest. However, she doesn’t hesitate any longer and straddles your shoe.

It’s the sexiest thing you’ve ever seen. Honestly. She hitches her skirt up, tossing it behind her with a flick of her wrist, never losing her flair for the dramatics. Her hands caress your thighs, slowly coming down to grip the back of your legs. And finally, she lowers herself onto your shoe, an obscene moan escaping her mouth.

“How does it feel, Bella?”

“Fuck. So good. So good, Mommy,” Bellatrix rasps, head tilting towards the ceiling in blissed-out pleasure.

“Watch your mouth, pet.” You slap her cheek lightly, which draws another choked moan from Bellatrix.

“Sorry, Mommy.” Even as she apologies, her hips rock back and forth.

“Yeah? What are you apologizing for?” You make sure to keep your tone casual and airy, though you can’t help but start to tease her. You flex your shoe upward—but only but an inch or two. The cool material presses against her most sensitive area, drawing another whispered swear.

“What did you say?”

“Nothing, Mommy, I’m sorry, please, please—”

“Aww, is my baby too flustered to talk? Be a good girl and tell me what you need.”

“Mommy, please, I can’t, I need you so bad—” Bellatrix shifts again, and when she meets your gaze, you see tears brimming in her eyes.

You frown, wiping a stray one away. While you hate to see her cry under any circumstances, there’s a small sadistic part of you that roars with heat, wanting to see how long she can withstand your (pleasurable) torture. You stay quiet, thinking about the best move before you say, “Oh, darling. You need to cum that badly? Well, alright, honey. You can have a reward.”

“A reward?”

With great debilitation, you raise your shoe all the way, so it’s firmly pressed against her. You don’t hold back. She moans, her hips rocking even more. “Here’s your reward, baby. But I’m not going to do all the work. If you’re not crying and screaming like a little whore for me, then I won’t fuck you again for a while. So you better thank me, pretty girl, and get to work.”

“Oh, Merlin, thank you, thank you so much.”

“I prefer Mommy, baby, but you’re welcome either way.”

You watch with a smug smile as Bellatrix rubs herself all over your shoe. She moves slowly at first but moves quicker and quicker. Little pants and hitched breaths fill the room.

As she keeps chasing her high, you play with one of her curls, twisting it around your finger. “Soon, I’ll find a perfect collar for you, so everyone knows you belong to me. Then I’ll put a tail in your ass, too, baby girl, and have you kneel for me like a good kitten.”

“Oh, Mommy, yes, I’ll be your good kitten. Merlin, please, fuck me, fill me up.” By this point, Bellatrix is fully in her subspace, all tears and whiny begging that make you want to fuck her harder or wrap her up in your arms. But you go with the former and lean forward, your breath brushing her half-lidded eyelids.

“Hold on tight, sweetheart.”

You start moving your shoe again, flexing it, and dragging it back and forth. This time, you don’t give up on the pressure, instead aiming directly for her most sensitive spots. Your shoe grinds against her clit, causing her to moan.

“Look at you, my pretty darling. Making such a mess, rutting all over my shoe like a bitch in heat.”

“Fuck, Mommy, I’m going to come, please?”

“Go ahead, baby.”

Not a second later, she says, “Thank you, Mommy, coming for you, Mommy—”

Bellatrix’s orgasm is a wonder to witness, and you can only stare, like a galaxy is exploding in front of your very eyes. It comes as a trickle at first, minuscule shudders that shake her once, twice. But as she’s urged on by your whispered praises and hands tugging at her hair, her pleasure turns into a river carrying her away—until her orgasm crashes against her again and again, like a tidal wave threatening to drown her, promising to carry her out to sea forever, to never let her come back to shore.

“Mommy, Mommy!” Tears start to spill down her cheeks, but there’s no sadistic jolt this time. That side of you quietly leaves, replaced with the urge to care and protect.

“I know, baby girl, that’s it, you’re alright.” You keep a firm grasp on her shoulders as she shudders the last of her orgasm on her shoe, then tug her up. She crawls into your lap, tucking her head into the crook of your neck, sniffing. “Shh, darling, you did so well. You were so good, my perfect, good girl. I’m so fucking proud of you.”

“Was I really good?” Timid eyes peek at you from between strands of hair.

You smile, reaching to brush a curl away so you can better see her. “You were perfect.”

“Thank you, Mommy. I really liked everything we did.” Bellatrix sniffs again, pressing closer to you.

You chuckle. “I could tell, baby.” You run your hands up and down her spine, feeling the heat radiating off her. All the while, you keep cooing the sweetest praises and words of devotion into her ear.

“Mommy?”

“Yes, pretty girl?”

“Do you think we can try fisting next weekend?”

A true, genuine laugh escapes you. Oh, Bellatrix has the most unique, one-track mind. “Why don’t you rest up for a bit first, okay? We can talk about it later. Just relax now.”

“M’kay, Mommy, I will.”

Tomorrow, next weekend, the future all stretches before you, eager to be shaped by your hand. Anything you might want to do—and the ideas bloom in your mind—you can. But right now, you’re focused on the lovely, needy, flawed soul in your embrace. It’s you and her against the world.

You start to hum and resume rubbing Bellatrix’s back, allowing her to snuggle closer. Her eyes, though sleepily locked onto you, slowly flutter close. You smile indulgently, whispering, “Mommy’s right here, darling. Shh, go to sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

[13uswntimagines]

It Can Be Both (Emily x Alex x Kelley x Reader)

Request: Kelley,Emily,Alex, and yn now like two on each team and yn is a goal keeper just watching confused wondering what the hell everyone is on and how it’s going to end later    (You know)

Author’s Note: I’m going to be honest- this felt very much like a rebound after doing gravity. Like something to get my writing juices flowing again. it ends with a touch of sexual content so warning. hit me up if you have questions or just wanna chat. 

You knew it was going to be a rough one before you even stepped on the pitch. Hell, you knew it was gonna be bad when Alex and Kelley started betting before national team camp had even started. 

Though they were two of the most competitive people on the planet, you and Emily were not (off the pitch at least). But it was hard to stay out of it when their performance, chosen rewards, and/or punishments very much included the both of you. 

You barely even got to admire how good either of your girlfriends looked in white (you made sure Alex knew your feelings about her in that galaxy kit) before things started to get wild. 

“Come on ref!” You yelled, running a gloved hand frustratedly through your hair and shaking your head. Was Sonnett’s challenge hard, yes, but did it deserve a yellow? You didn’t think so. 

You could guess that some of Emily's aggression came from the reward  Kelley negotiated for them if the Spirit beat the Pride. At least Alex was laughing it off and standing. 

“Looks like your girls are trying to murder each other,” Ali snorted, pausing just outside the box to protect against a counter if the corner kick in the other box went south. 

“Vlatko’s probably shitting his pants,” You mumbled, wincing as Emily and Alex clashed again. God, Emily wanted to win. 

“What’s gotten into them,” Ali asked, just as your two defenders collapsed the pocket Alex was trying to slip through. 

You raised your eyebrow at the defender, your cheeks a little red (blatantly ignoring Kelley’s wink from across the field), “you really don’t want to know,” 

Ali looked between you and the three women battling it out on the field, smirking a little. Even though she had seen it more times than she could count, it was still a little strange to see your tall frame look so flustered. “Ooo, so it’s one of those games?” 

“I didn’t ask to be a part of it,” you huffed, crossing your arms indignantly. 

“So there’s not something riding on you getting a clean sheet?” It was Ali’s turn to raise her eyebrows. More red-colored your cheeks, so much so you were sure it was all the way up to your ears by now. 

It wasn’t a secret that it was a thing during the World Cup. One that you very much enjoyed, especially after you pulled off a PK save in the final to come out with a clean sheet. 

You paused, biting your lip. “Not tonight,” 

Ali laughed loudly as Alex set up for her another corner. “Ah, so it all depends on them then?” 

You shrugged. Most of the time you really hated giving up control, but Alex also promised you would like what she picked (even if you weren’t planning on participating). You also trusted Emily and Kelley to stick to your limits, no matter how stoked they were on winning (if they won). 

You sighed when Emily marked Alex just a touch too closely again. “More like Alex and Kel. Guess they got Em on board too,” 

“Did you expect them not to?” Ali asked, her voice showing that she already knew the answer. 

“No, just thought Emily would be on my side,” You grumbled, a gloved hand scratching the back of your neck. 

“Well, I’m sure you won’t enjoy whatever they have planned at all,” Ali rolled her eyes and patted your shoulder, before heading off as the Spirit tried to counter. 

“Shut up,” You huffed, backing up towards goal, your cheeks still very red. You still had 80is minutes to go before you would find out exactly what your girlfriends had planned. 

*****

You had seen a lot of bad refs, but this one was something special. She was micromanaging the field, and you were starting to get tired of it. 

“What the fuck,” You grumbled in between giving your defense direction. 

It was one thing to yell at Kelley for being a little rough (even if it was with Alex), and another to argue with her about 

“Surprised she hasn’t hit her yet,” Emily said, side-eyeing you.

“Be surprised I haven’t hit you yet,” You huffed, barely sparing your blond defender a glance. Fouling as much as she had wasn’t good form, and it wouldn’t help her case with Vlatko. 

Plus you were too busy watching the refs try to corral your most stubborn girlfriend. Her irritation was palpable and you knew if the Ref kept pushing, Kelley was probably going to respond exactly how Emily thought she would. 

“Ooo, kinky,” She laughed. 

You rolled your eyes. “Just clean it up and chill out alright? We need to be able to play to make the team,” 

She snorted, bumping you with her elbow. “Not a chance with what Al put on the line,” 

“I don’t care what she bet. Cool it so we all walk out tonight,” You growled a little more firmly, taking on the tone you used when giving orders on the pitch. The voice that always made her and Kelley listen to you when they were giving you shit for being younger. 

Instead of saluting like she normally would, a very large smirk broke across Emily’s face. “You have no idea what she chose do you?” 

You froze, finally looking towards the defender and blinking owlishly at her. 

So maybe you hadn’t considered that Alex would include you in the bet, and factor in your opinion on her chosen reward. You thought maybe you would just get to watch whatever they had decided and stay safe from whatever punishment if you lost.

Emily cackled as the ball sailed right past your state of stupor, running off to celebrate before you could even respond. 

Despite being in a relationship with them for nearly 2 years, it still caught you off guard sometimes when they included you. It took you a very long time to open up and accept their love (and their physical touch), and even though you were comfortable now, it was still a weird experience to have them care. To have them always think of you when making plans (even ones you weren’t sure you wanted to be involved in). 

You blinked again, shaking your head as though it would help you clear your thoughts. It didn’t, but a warm hand on your shoulder and an annoyed (but concerned voice) in your ear helped. 

“Hey space cadet, you ok there?” 

“Um, yeah,” You smiled tightly at Alex, allowing yourself to lean into her for just a second. It was hard to focus on the game with all the stuff running around your head. 

“Good, cause the ref just called back the kick. Get ready to go again,” She said softly, brushing a fallen strand from your eyes. “and keep your eyes on the ball this time,” She smirked, tapping your nose. 

You wrinkled it under her finger. She laughed a little. It was nice to see you so relaxed, even when you were surrounded by so many people. Maybe they would have to play these little games more often, you know if it could get you to let down your stoic exterior. “You can stare at Em later after we win. She’ll be in a much more… enjoyable position,” she wiggled her eyebrows and squeezed your shoulder. 

“Eye eye captain,” You saluted, earning another laugh. 

“You’ve been hanging out with Emily too much,” she said, with the roll of her eyes as she headed off to her position for the re-kick. 

You wouldn’t let it slip past you again. Alex was right, you would be able to enjoy your girlfriends later. 

*****

“That fucking goal should have counted and you know it,” Kelley grumbled as she slipped into the back seat with you. 

“Well it didn’t,” you mumbled, scooting over as Emily hopped into the other side, effectively trapping you between them. 

“You two cheated anyway,” Alex said from the front seat, glancing back at the three of you in the rear view mirror. You didn’t know it yet, but this was very much part of her plan. 

“We did not,” Kelley snorted, shuffling even closer to you, so your thighs were pressed together, just as Emily did the same thing on your other side. You didn’t think much of it, both defenders were always rather cuddly after a game. 

“So Em distracting y/n wasn’t part of the plan?” Alex asked, raising a signature eyebrow in the mirror (sharing a look with Kelley - one you didn’t see.) 

“And neither of you were trying to remove Alex’s ankles from her body?” You added, wigging a little as Emily’s hand landed on your thigh, just a bit too high to be a friendly touch. 

“We plead the fifth,” She said softly, very close to your ear, sending shivers down your spine. 

You sucked in a shallow breath when Kelley’s hand joined hers on your other thigh. Her lips touched your neck and worked their way up to your ear. 

“But can I just say, your red cheeks made you look very cute tonight,” she purred, nibbling at the skin on your ear, just as Emily did the same on your other side. 

The heat returned to your cheeks, and your hands clenched on your knees. You weren’t quite sure what you were supposed to do with them. 

“I’m not cute,” You muttered, your fingers tapped uncomfortably on your legs. You didn’t like not being the one in control. 

“Just sit back and enjoy it babe,” Emily hummed, her lips working from behind your ear all the way back down your neck to nibble on your collarbone. her hand also shifted to intertwine your fingers. 

The small act helped you to relax a little, and you squeezed her fingers in thanks. 

“Yeah, we’re gonna take very good care of you,” You could feel Kelley’s smirk just behind your ear as her fingers traced a little higher. You knew you could put a stop to this if you really wanted to, but you weren’t sure that you did. 

You found Alex’s eyes in the mirror, flicking between the road and your face. 

“Thought this was your reward, not mine,” You said, your voice coming out in little pants. 

She smiled slyly at you. “Why can’t it be both?” 

Kelley’s hand squeezed your thigh, just as Emily scraped her teeth along your shoulder. “Yeah?” Kelley asked into your ear. 

“Yeah. It can be both,”

[loth-wolffe]

Do you think we could get “ i guess somewhere along the way, i fell in love. and i don’t know how it happened, or when, but… “ with Rex, please? I read a really heart breaking fic with him last night and could just really use something sweet and fluffy with a happy ending. If not, totally fine! :)

@generaldumbbitch kindly asked: could i request rex x jedi reader with the prompt “I've been trying to talk myself out of it." "Then talk yourself into it."

Do I wanna know?

(if this feeling floats both ways)

Pairing: our precious blonde captain x jedi!reader.

Word count: 1,6k not proofread you know the drill.

Warnings: mutual pining and yearning come with their own warning. this is a lil bit of a slow burn I think ?? the use of sir is neutral in this house. mentions of rex touching himself 👀 but nothing explicit okay it's a safe space here.

It wasn't usual for Rex to get injured, but it hasn't been one of those days where he got minor scratches, maybe a few dark bruises here and there but most of the time he has been untouched.

Today, though, war has been rougher than usual, a deep cut was found on his side that he doesn't know how he got, face covered in small, little cuts and he could still taste the blood from his split lip.

Which had led him to you, in a way, as he looked for supplies he ended up finding you, and in your stubborn nature you had offered to help him clean his wounds, with a racing heart and fluttering butterflies he had no option but to let out a rushed "yes sir."

After properly applying bacta on his side, you take extra care with his face, skilled hands softly pressing the wet cloth on the wounds. He doesn't hiss, nor shows discomfort, only flinching occasionally, as if he was too familiar with the feeling, too used to the pain it brought.

Amber eyes find you sometimes, as he takes quick glances he hopes you don't notice. He takes a good look of you, the way you bite your lip in concentration, your furrowed brows, how your hair looks, the little necklace hanging from it's hidden place under your robes.

"Is there something on your mind, Rex?"

Sometimes he forgets you're a Jedi, a General, his superior, when he has you so close, this close, and when your hands brush together when he hands you whatever, his heart beating loudly in his ears, mostly when you touch him, your hand on his shoulder or back, on his forearm or waist when you pass by and to move him in the slightest.

He forgets the most at night, when he thinks on where else you could touch him, in how your lips would feel against his, your hands exploring his body and his name falling from your lips in a state of delirious bliss. Shame crawling back into his mind right after as he remembers again who you are, always out of his limit but he can't find it in himself to stop, not when you look at him like that.

"Nothing, General." He finally admits, a lie he hopes you don't sense but you do.

Pulling back to assess him, he already misses you, you give him a look, one that tells him you're not impressed.

"No need for formalities, I have already told you that." You give him an easy smile, one that feels like melting his insides and turning into a puddle.

Only you have the power to leave him nothing but helpless. He's not sure he hates it.

"Sorry, Ge–" your pointed eyes make him chuckle, quickly changing the rank for your name. You give him your most charming smile and he's left hypnotized, sucking a breath when you lean over again, going back to tend his wounds.

He's got it bad for you.

"So?" You ask, in the simplest of murmurs, as if speaking any louder would break your concentration.

"So?" He echoes, confused, warm eyes never leaving you and when your eyes meet, he blushes slightly.

There's something about the intimacy of it all that leaves him this I don't know what in his chest that makes him feel like a cadet all over again.

"The thing you want to tell me, what is it?"

"I don't–" There is something in your eyes he feels drawn to, magnetized by the color of your irises and the emotions they try to shield from him. Rex sighs, he knows there's no way around this, and he wonders if this was your plan all along, to corner him somewhere and casually urge him to confess. "I've been feeling something," he eventually mumbles, eyes looking forward to the door, he's not sure he wants to see your expression.

There's this little mhm that leaves your throat, and he can see from the corner of his eyes how your attention falls in the cut on his forehead. Your eyes flicker to his.

"I wanted to ask you..." he thinks, if you feel the same? "for an advice." He doesn't wait for you to answer, already knowing you're willing to help him out, like you have always been. "There's this– someone." You stop your movement, surprised for a moment and he finds that your unreadable expression makes him anxious.

There's no turning back now.

"And I'm not sure they feel the same, so I've been trying to talk myself out of it, and–"

"Then you should try to talk yourself into it."

You sound so sure, he's sincerely surprised. He watches you go back to the task at hand, the cloth trying to remove the dried blood from his skin.

"You think?"

"We need more love in the galaxy Rex, there's been too much pain these days to stop ourselves from feeling anything but something that resembles it, don't you think?"

He frowns, taking in your words and he supposes you must be right, you're a Jedi, at the end of the day, wiseness is something you have by default, isn't it?

"I guess."

There's a silence that follows, where it's just you working and the rumble of the machines. It's not awkward, per se, but it's not as comfortable as it was when you first begun.

"It's you," he says after a while in the most casual tone possible. He's got nothing more but his life to lose.

You take a step back, looking at him with confusion written in your face, and his hands are shaking with all the emotions he's trying to put at bay. He can't take it back. Not now. He's never been one to stand down from a fight.

"I–" he clears his throat, "the one I have uh, feelings for. I guess somewhere along the way, I fell in love." He finds your eyes, and there's nothing in them that calms him down. He panics, an awkward cough leaves his throat and he feels his neck and ears burning. "With you. And I don't know how it happened, or when, but I, I, I do."

Before he gives you a second to react, he's already standing up, probably opening the cut from his side with the action.

"I apologize if this is too unprofessional, I should probably head out and–"

"Wait," it's a whisper, and it could be humiliating the power you hold over him if it wasn't for the excuse in the back of his mind that reminds him he was bred to follow orders. "You don't want to know what I have to say?"

He hesitates, torn between wanting to know, if the gentleness in your tone and the barely-there smile you're giving him is something to go by, or not wanting to know for the possible consequences of whatever answer your might give him.

If you don't love him back, he doesn't think he'll be able to live with it, much less with how close you and his General are, always working together and Maker, Cody is never going to let him hear the end of it.

But if you do, he could be court martial if anyone finds out, but that's nothing compared to you being casted out from the order. He knows their ideals, he has heard enough from the Commander, you could be torn away from everything you know. He's not worth it, he knows. Compared to everything your life is, he's nothing.

Yet, he nods.

You walk towards him, closing the distance that separates you, Rex wishes you didn't, he can never think straight when you're so close, hence the predicament he finds himself in.

When your hand cups his cheek, he flinches, he has never felt anything close to soft against his skin, always the end of someone's knuckles, the steel of some droid, the heat of a blaster shot. Never something so tender as someone else's hand, slightly calloused by the arduous training of the art of holding a lightsaber and the constant firmness in your grip that these unrelenting times need you to have.

Your eyes fall on him, analyzing his expression that lays so vulnerable in his face when there's nothing that helps him mask it, he seems timid, and like he was about to brace for a punch that never comes.

"You know," your voice serene, warm, and he doesn't understand why, how in the middle of all this, buried in corpses and hands dripping with blood you still find a way to shine so bright, to illuminate a path for him in the chaos of everything and anchor him back. "If you weren't so ready to sprint back to your quarters, I could tell you that I'm in love with you too."

"You are?" You smile, warmed by his naiveness, and he gulps when he sees your eyes flickering to his lips.

"I thought I was obvious," you try to explain, the amused glint in his face warms his cheeks, "I've been flirting with you since I met you, Captain, what took you so long?"

"You were?"

You chuckle, pressing the lightest of kisses on the corner of his mouth, a peck, soft and sweet for him to crumble down at your feet. He feels light-headed and you have barely done anything.

"Are you going to kiss me, trooper?"

He nods, licking his lips with anticipation, taking a moment to learn by heart the gleam in your eyes, and the little marks of your face, and the shape of your lips, and everything that makes you, you.

Rex smiles lightly, closing the gap between your bodies with a single step, his own gloved hands cupping your face.

"Sir, yes sir."

taglist: @foodandbooksplease @dottiechan @ladykatakuri @tacticalsparkles @lightning-wolffe @hellothere-generalangsty @beskarprincessjenny @badbatch-simp24 @milppa @obi-bae-kenobi @rowansparrow @queencousland101 @dagobahbound @huntersbandana @kavecika @paige6768 @thetiredtoad0-0 @baroclinicinstability @murdertoothpick @ahsoka1 @kybacrystal @smoldjarin @m-o-o-n-s-g-o-o-n-s @amaryllis23

[skellymom]

Vagabonds

Continuing Series: HUNTER X READER/FEM OC

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Word Count: 5K

ᴛʜɪꜱ ꜰɪᴄ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴀɪɴꜱ ɴꜱꜰᴡ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ. ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ɴᴏᴛ 18+ ᴅɴɪ.

BACKGROUND: The following story takes place in the Bad Batch Star Wars Universe, and I tried to keep within the timeline of Season 1-2 before the Batch Left Ord Mantell for Mount Tantiss.  The OC characters of my invention are Maadienne “Mad Momma” Dax and her genderfluid Teen named Love.  Mad is an older single mom.   

Mad and Love also are coded as belonging to something similar to the American Nomad population in the US.  Think Nomadland, off-griders, bikers, Slab City transients, hobos, tramps, hippies, punks, carnies, faire circuit vendors, survivalists, societal dropouts, etc. And they intersect with other nomadic groups coded as similar to the Roma (Romani), Travelers/Tinkers (Irish), Romanichal (British/UK). All of these people in this story universe refer to themselves as "The Star People".

WARNINGS: Shades of neurodivergence, mention of deep sorrow/depression/hurt/lost love/relationship breakups/estranged parents/heavy mental baggage/ugly crying.  There are hints of the beginning stages of fascism and xenophobia.  Some mention of erections, arousal, sexual/sensual feelings, flirting.  Lots of swearing (Star Wars swears mixed with Earth swears).  Fictional prejudicial slurs.  Poverty, class struggle, slavery, war, child abduction, politics, very amorphous mention of genocide, animal cruelty living conditions (brief), animal death (postmortem) and both of these are redeemed. 

I personally like to include links to music selected specifically for certain sections of this fic to get you in the mood/headspace: I understand not everyone reads at the same rate, so if the music chosen for that section is not long enough, put it on repeat.  If too long, finish listening to that piece of music before reading on.  If you don’t like it, then use your own mood music or none at all. If the links don't work, you can open a separate browser, copy link, paste, play the music and read the fic. 

Enjoy!  Hope you are entertained.  Please leave feedback in the comments, and PLEASE REBLOG!  Thanks. 

FYI-We WILL get to Hunter! But first I need to introduce my OC's!!!

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Introduction: Chaos on Coruscant

“Metamorphosis” by Delerium: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oj1mikt5NPg 

The outer streets of Coruscant started to show their seediness and poverty the longer Mad and Love walked away from the bustling city center.  They had just picked up a considerable payment of credits after dropping off two young orphans to a well-heeled couple living within the upscale high rises of the capital.  They had the help of clearances, chain codes and disguises.  Both wearing a bland headscarf veil and shift dress over their clothes and skin tattoos.  Mad’s face was uncovered and Love’s full coverage.  To anyone who passed on the street, they were two household nannies taking care of their rich owners' children. 

The orphans, Edda and Oddo, were refugees from a distant Outer Rim planet that the Empire had newly “colonized” for resources.  The people of that planet fought and lost control of their sovereignty. Many lives were lost in the battle.  So many refugees and newly orphaned children were begging to flee the planet to avoid becoming slaves of the Empire.  Mad and Love saw an opportunity to take whomever they could away from that situation and bring them here to a better life.  They hated the Empire.  Before that The Republic.  Before that...whatever governing forces that had killed, enslaved, or pushed their people out among the stars.  Homeless Nomaadi that nobody wanted.  Dirty marked “Caitiff” scum.  Now the Empire was doing this to other “outsiders” all over the galaxy.  

When Mad and Love dropped off the children, the stipulation was it had to be at the back servant's entrance.  The couple wouldn’t let it be any other way.  Even though Mads contacts were secure, and this job was very low on the risk scale, there was no room for compromise.  The couple didn’t come out expressly and say anything prejudicial about Nomaadi delivering the children.  But it was heavily implied through the thin veneer of niceness as they opened the door to welcome the children.  Mad and Love were instructed to wait at the threshold, to hug Edda and Oddo and say a hurried goodbye.  The siblings protested tearfully, but gave in. Mad caught a fleeting look at the large opulent apartment, meeting the eyes of the servant at attention on the other side of the room.  The husband, giving them a brusque “thank you” while handing over the bag of credits, shut the door in their faces.  Standing in the servant’s hallway, Mad and Love looked at each other in sad silence.  The siblings had travelled with them on the Beldame several weeks before.  Bonded with them.  The children didn’t care who Mad and Love were.  They were so grateful to be safe and have someone in their life that cared. 

The credits helped smooth the sting...a little.  The encounter was so jarring and surreal, but par for the course.  Mad and Love couldn’t eat or survive without steady revenue coming in. The couple who paid for the lives of these children paid handsomely.  To them it was just a drop in the bucket, easing their guilty conscience.  Taking in homeless orphans as their own children...while not using any of their privilege to stand against the Empire seemed like a glaring example of blind privilege.  Love was neutral on the subject, looking at the glass as half full.  The children have good homes now.  Mad saw the glass as leaky with a huge crack in it.  The damned thing didn’t work well and was fundamentally broken.  

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

Their ship, the Dread Beldame, was parked on the outskirts of the capital city to keep a low profile.  That meant a lot of walking, but it kept the Coruscant Police off their backs.  Getting the hell off the planet relatively undetected was the goal now.   

The narrow streets led to a small public square complete with an open-air second-rate vendor market.  Tourists visiting the Capital, locals, and Neuvo riche citizens of the city center visited these spots due to lower prices on goods.  The awful smell of the exotic meat vendor wafted up into Mad and Love’s noses.  The smell of a hundred naturally and genetically designed animals housed together in a small space. 

Mad ignored the smell and kept a brisk pace.  However, was surprised by a familiar voice and warm Nomaadi greeting.  

“Auntie?” 

Mad Stopping in her tracks and looked past the front counter into the shadows towards the back of the stall.  A familiar face slowly stepped out.  Mad thought she was looking at a ghost.   

Nephew Sil, covered in dirt and slaughter offal, underweight and wearing a slave collar sadly smiled at her.  She hadn’t seen him since he was a boy, when he was abducted from his family.  Now Sil was a teen. The Nomaadi chest tattoo a clear identifier.  Her experience was that many Nomaadi children were stolen.  The authorities didn’t care to help the families to find them, so they were easy pickings by slavers and traffickers. 

Love, totally unaware of Sil, followed the scent and was shocked by the scene at the meat vendor’s chopping block.  A small live puppy was held aloft shrieking and scruffed by the butcher who was barking at any possible patrons in the crowd. 

 “Loth Wolf-Vornskr hybrid!  Tender delicacy.  Butchered fresh right here.  Last one goes to the highest bidder!!!”   

In his other hand was a very large meat cleaver. 

Love was mortified to witness this.  As their eyes looked past the puppy, cages upon cages of trapped animals came into view.  Small wire cages stacked up high holding dirty tortured souls stuffed into small spaces.  And beyond that, a bigger reinforced pen holding a large bellowing beast hiding in the shadows.  The smell of animal shit, fear, blood, death, and pain hit Love in the gut and assaulted their senses.  Patrons rushed forward with their money to bid on the last small life in the butcher’s hand.  Love was knocked aside and bounced from one patron to the other before being shoved down onto the hard pavement.  The obscene display of crude materialistic greed while being trampled was too much for Love.  And concern for the pup brought anger out of them, vibrating the very air within the space. 

Mad called out to Sil, “Come with us!”   

“I can’t” and winced as he touched the shock collar.  It was electronically locked, live and would not allow him to leave the market stand.  Sil was the meat butcher's property and locked in, just like all the animals stuffed in the cages around them.   

Mad unbuttoned the top of her blouse to reach for the credits stowed in the security pocket of her binder.  The high neck fell open to reveal her own circular Nomaadi chest tattoo.  She could attempt to buy Sil back from the Butcher and help locate his parents.  The job’s payment would allow this luxury and still have enough for them to live on until the next job. Before Mad could pull out any credits, she could feel every hair on her body stand on end.  Sil could feel it too.  Mad knew exactly where it was coming from. 

“Run” by Unsecret x Rayelle: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Fzw32l9NF6k 

“LOVE!  NOOO!!!” 

Mad suddenly turned to see Love levitating 10 ft above Coruscant street.  The patrons facing the butcher never saw what was coming, but he had a front row view.  The butcher froze and his eyes went wide. Mad could feel the raw emotion and power pulse from Love’s body.  They were gonna blow, and Mad couldn’t do a damned thing about it.  

The puppy and the animals in the surrounding cages fell silent.   

All.  At.  Once. 

What happened next to Mads recollection was in slow motion.  A silent Force scream emanated from Love’s mouth.  It shorted out EVERYTHING within that city block.  All the technology, transportation, everything...and the locks on all the cages within the meat stall.  Everything was at a standstill for 5 seconds.  Love still levitating above the street, the butcher standing in the same position, the vendors at a standstill.   

Then things sped up.   

And... THE SHIT HIT THE FAN!  

The animals, sensing freedom, burst from their cages in a frenzied wild blur.  Screams could be heard from patrons slowly realizing what was happening as animals escaped beneath their feet, swooped near their faces, leaped on or past them.  Love still levitating as people and animals ran pell-mell through the square.  Nobody cared to notice a skinny veil-shrouded teenager floating above them.  The butcher let loose a litany of curse words and pointed the meat cleaver in Love’s direction...while still holding onto the puppy.   

Love reached out with the Force and snatched the puppy from the Butcher’s grasp.  He turned 3 shades of red and chucked the meat cleaver at Love.  They cradled the puppy and force deflected the cleaver.  It fell ineffectually against the pavement below.  Love was still levitating at 10ft and giving a calm intense death stare to the Butcher.  He foamed at the mouth in a rage, stooped down and yanked a laser rifle out from under the counter, swinging it around to aim right between Love’s eyes.   

Love, unfazed, didn’t move from his aim.  Mad almost shit her pants in fear.  It was all too much.  They were going to get caught, and Love’s luck was going to run out.  Today was the day she would see her offspring's brains all over the streets of Coruscant. 

The Butcher pulled the trigger...which did absolutely nothing as Love’s scream had shorted out his weapon.  He was thwarted once again from dispatching this teenage menace, and absolutely lost his composure, chucking the weapon at Love. 

They calmly Force pushed the weapon aside, keeping the death stare.  Having nothing left to assault Love with, the Butcher leapt onto the counter and launched himself up towards them... 

...and was immediately taken out by the large animal held captive in the shadows of the meat vendor’s stall.  There was an explosion of metal, wood, and small animals...that hadn’t escaped from the first rush to freedom.  The Behemoth ran past Love and caused total mayhem to the remaining people in the square.  More blood curdling screams mixed with angry animal cries. 

Love calmly turned on a dime and floated airily away from the scene, pulling off the veil and gracefully dropping it to the ground below.  Their Nomaadi tattoo in full rebellious glory to all of Coruscant.  Love’s facial expression calm as ever, still cradling the puppy. 

It was a total sight to behold.  Mad was beside herself watching Love float away from the scene.  And then yanked almost off her feet as Nephew Sil ran past and grabbed her hand.  He ripped the now inactive slave collar from his neck and threw it aside.  Behind them a cab and several speeder bikes fell from the sky and exploded on the pavement, they had shorted out as well.     

“We gotta go, go, go!  Run Auntie Mad!!!  Where’s the ship???”  Running high on adrenaline he dragged Mad out of the square into the narrow streets for cover.  They tripped over scurrying marmots.  And, Mad had to pull a small, flighted escapee from her hair as they tried to catch up to Love. 

“Love, come down outtya head!  Or we are gonna lose ours!!!”  Sil let go of Mad and ran ahead.  He took a huge running leap and yanked on Love’s leg, pulling them out of levitation mode.  It was like he was trying to catch a balloon.  Love landed on two feet with a proud smile.  

They signed “Hello” warmly and presented the puppy proudly.  

“You CRAZY!”  Syl shook his head “Causing big trouble.” 

They were interrupted by a bedraggled Spice Head grabbing both teens by the back of their shirts.  “Catiff scum!  You should be worth some credits!!!” 

Mad had enough of everything that had gone to total shit today.  Anger welling up, she would have shot him on the spot had her blaster not shorted out.  Instead, she ran full tilt into the assailant, knocking him to the ground.  From there, proceeded to grab handfuls of hair and repeatedly pound his head into the pavement accentuating each screaming curse:   

“KEEP.  YOUR.  HANDS.  OFF.  MY.  KIDS.  YOU.  KRIFFING.  BANTHA.  FUCKER!!! 

He started bleeding, lost consciousness, and stopped moving.  He was still breathing, though.  That was a plus.  Mad’s view cleared and could feel Sil and Love pulling her off the man.   

“Mommommom!”  Loves voice echoing inside Mad’s head. 

“Auntie, stop!  Please get up!!!”  Sil’s voice outside her head. 

Looking up, more Spice Heads were watching the scene unfold, shrinking back into the shadows.  Fear on their faces.  

“See this?  Keep your hands off us and your mouths shut!  We were never here!!!”      

Mad gathered herself, stood up and firmly barked, “Get your asses in gear, the Dame’s this way!”  Sil and Love, clearly shaken, followed behind. 

She gave murderous glances to the onlookers, who cowered as Mad, Sil, and Love passed.  One threw the Eye of Protection sign, showing the fear Outsiders had of The Bad Fate believed (wrongly) spread by the Nomaadi.  Mad sometimes wished she could really curse these people to silence so her family could escape safely.  Every excursion was dangerous to her people.  Snitches were a constant hazard. 

From there, they ran several blocks to the outer port where the ship sat waiting.  

The Beldame with its mismatched junky exterior looked so welcoming.  The sensors picked up Mad and Love’s proximity and opened the gangplank.  All three ran in and found their seats.  The Dame automatically closed its gangplank and Mad got them out of there quickly.  Two local precinct police speeders appeared in hot pursuit firing handheld blasters at the ship.  The speeders could only follow so far before falling behind...but not before shorting out the Dame’s antiquated deflector shield.   

While the Dame exited Coruscant’s planetary atmosphere, Mad brought up the coordinates for Ord Mantell, scrambled their jump signature, and punched the ship into hyperspace. 

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

“Even If It Hurts” by Sam Tinnesz: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NyxKrN48R2g 

You could cut the silence inside the ship with a vibroknife.  Both teens unsure if Mad was still...MAD. 

Both were seated behind her.  The light of stars coursing past casting shadows down Mads back.  It was an uncomfortable 15 minutes before she swung the chair around and met Love with an intensely serious stare.  Only Love heard Mad’s voice in their head. 

 “Dank Ferrick, Love...what the hell was that back there!” 

Sil sat watching a silently animated display of physical movements while both Love and Mad argued back and forth inside their heads at each other.  It was like watching manic mime comedy.  He knew they both could communicate like this.  Just never seen an argument between the two since he disappeared years ago.  He could only guess what the row was about. 

“I couldn’t help it.  Everything about that place was so horrible.  All those animals living and dying like that.  The people trampling me.  And... I miss Edda and Oddo.  I’m sad we let them go.” 

“We needed the money.  We were broke, Love.  Can’t keep everyone we ferry across the galaxy.  What you did in the town square...it was over the top.  You blew our cover.  Our contacts that we worked so hard for won’t help us now.  We will NEVER be able to go back to Coruscant again!” 

“Good, that place is fucking POODOO!!!” 

“But we had allies there, Love.  Without allies we can’t do any business there.  We just lost a good steady income.  The Outer Rim only pays us enough to scrape by.  And now we might have eyes actively looking for us!  You don’t really understand how dangerous everything is now for us...YOU...especially since the Jedi were murdered, do you???” 

Silence.  Surprised face. 

“DO YOU???  We already have shit rain down on us normally.  Things are getting worse out there with the new Empire.” 

Silence.  Angry face. 

“And what the hell was that...thing you did?  It shorted everything out!  That’s new, Love.  You need to control whatever the hell that is.  What did you do?” 

Silence.  Offended face.  

Mad sighed.  “I’m sorry I upset you.  I’m sorry I yelled.  It scared me.  The thought of losing you scares me.  I love you”. 

Silence.  Neutral face. 

“Ok...” Exasperated sigh.  “I... We’ll talk later. “ 

More silence.  Still neutral faced, Love starts to levitate and zone out.  Swaddles the puppy tighter. 

Mad knows she overreacted again.  The rebellious Love was something she wasn’t prepared for.  No idea on how to control these powerful urges.  A Jedi might be able to help if there were any left.  But then, the Jedi were problematic and antiquated.  Had they not been, Love would have been a Padawan long ago...and probably deceased now.  With a heavy, tired sigh Mad turns finally to address Sil. 

“I missed you so much Nephew.  I’m sorry for the drama.” 

Sil immediately got up and hugged Mad.  She grabbed him in embrace and squeezed hard.   

“It’s been so long.  Your parents will be happy to know you're safe.” 

Sil was quiet.  Then Mad heard soft sobbing and felt his body shake.  She kept quiet and just held on until he wanted to be let go.  Love, dropping their angst, floated over and placed a hand onto his back and slowly rubbed in circles. 

He eventually let go and stood up.  Both Mad and Love spoke at the same time: Mad verbally and Love signing in Basic, “In your own time.  I’ll be here.  I love you.”   

Sil wiped his eyes.  “I’m hungry, Auntie”.  He was so thin.  Clearly, he was underfed while gone.  Probably starved to be kept in line, in addition to the shocks he received.  An outline of rough scar tissue from the slave collar worn into his neck stood out.  It was a very sobering thing for both Love and Mad to consider. 

“Let’s see what we can rustle up, huh?”  Mad got up and made a beeline for the ‘Dame’s tiny galley kitchen. 

“I missed you too Couz.” Love signed.  “Can you hold Tiggy for me while I help mom?” 

Sil nodded and took the puppy from Love.  “Hello, Tigglet” he whispered while settling into the pilot’s chair to watch the stars and occasional Purrgil float past. 

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

Thanks for your patience. Hunter makes his entrance in this chapter!

Chapter 1-The Weight of the Galaxy

“Trouble” by Valerie Broussard: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f6D-1xOEns0 

Back at Ord Mantell, Mad knocked back the Spotchka to steady her nerves.  While leaning on the bar of Cid’s Parlor with head in hand, she contemplated the huge clusterfuck event that transpired on Coruscant. 

They.  Were.  So.  Fucking.  Lucky.  Especially finding Sil like that and getting him freed.  Being able to keep all the credits from their last job without having to haggle for his freedom.  The animals and exploding vehicles provided diversion.  The Butcher was being scraped off the concrete, so he wasn’t talking.  The Spice Heads might present a problem...if anyone cared to listen to a bunch of Tweakers. The only reason they were pursued and lacked a shield was due to the Coruscant Police suspecting those running away from the scene and fleeing the planet were to blame for the crime of...property damage.   

The authorities and media didn’t give a Womp Rats ass about the dead butcher, his sketchy meat market front, or the slaves he ran through it.  They feigned some concern about the injured citizens of the downed vehicles and those maimed by the market escapees.  The News Holos were calling the incident “eco terrorism” by a small band of indigents who set the animals free.  Fortunately, a well-known Enviro Group stepped up and claimed responsibility, inspiring its many supporters to clog the streets around the Capitol building in open protest.  The Butchers Trade Org, Pro Meat Groups and rando hooligans looking to profit and cause havoc clashed against them.  This brought out the Coruscant Guard to try to bring order to the chaos.  The upper crust of Coruscant railed against the inconvenience to their day and clutched their pearls.  Total mayhem and a convenient smokescreen. 

This kind of luck is what Nomaadi Maami Dall would call “A Gift from The Force”.   

“But make NO mistake, the Force is Fickle.  It won’t last for long.  Get out of yer own head, or it will be your end!”  Could hear her Elder preach the message like she was sitting right next to Mad at the bar.  She sorely missed Maami Dall...and Paapi Dall, Brothers, Sisters, Aunties, Uncles, Couzins, Friends of The Nomaadi Star People.  The whole Community.  It had been so long since they could all safely come together for Reunion.  Fond memories of feasts, Hand Fastings, Parting Ceremonies, musicians in drum circles around large bonfires, people singing and dancing all night, helping to repair transports during the day and restore supplies for travel, children playing, community coming together to share news, information, trade, settling disputes, healing family rifts, making love, birthing babies, and just safely relaxing from the nomadic lifestyle for a while.  

Oh Maker...the nostalgia HURT.  Being transient was The Way.  Everyone had a different journey.  Paths diverging, converging constantly.  Nomaadi were encouraged to leave, live their own truth, and be independent.  Plus, their survival depended on it.  Too many of them in the same place for a long period of time made the community sitting ducks.  This is why they would occasionally meet for Reunion by word of mouth and never permanently settled anywhere. 

Mads' thoughts shifted back to their luck...this time.  How long before it ran out?  Love started as a quiet introspective child.  Their use of the Force started early.  It always manifested itself as gentle, non-threatening, defensive and never offensive.   

Mad also deeply regretted the show of temper.  She really hoped to not permanently injure or kill the Spice Head.  He was stupidly dangerous and a victim of a fucked-up system that kept so many down on Coruscant.  Hell, the universe.  All the people on the bottom fighting for the scraps that the powerful occasionally threw at them.  She sighed...when was it ever going to kriffing change?    

Mad’s only plan for tonight was ordering several more drinks to help forget the rising worry in her mind: After the wholesale slaughter of the Jedi and those showing Force abilities, how was she going to keep her powerful and now rebellious child safe? 

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

“Boilermaker” by Royal Blood: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FoDNFsQGDjE 

At the other end of the bar slumped Hunter, attempting to drink himself into oblivion.  He was at the start of his journey tonight several drinks in.    

His brothers and sister were back at the Marauder.  Tech and Echo had mechanical Maintenace to do.  Wrecker planned to take Omega for Mantell Mix and browse the Traders Market.  Hunter didn’t feel any of it, except guilty for turning Omega down when she begged him to come along.  He couldn’t get the vision of Crosshair out of his head, standing alone on the platform of Kamino as they left the planet.  Oh, and he felt guilty for that too.  Sad as well, and some frustration that his brother wasn’t touched by the plea of brotherhood offered by most of The Batch.  He very briefly considered having Wrecker drag Cross back inside the ship, refusing to leave without him, or stunning the sniper to do so.  It would have not changed Crosshairs mind in the long run.  Stubborn brainwashed sibling.  Hunter still loved him. 

All the while the remains of his home...no, his family’s home lay in the Kaminoan sea smoldering.  The remains of which The Batch narrowly escaped from.  Almost resigned to a watery grave. What happened to all the future unborn and young clones he had seen at the facility the day the Empire took power?  Were they safe?  Even alive?  All The Regs brainwashed by the chip.  All the Jedi murdered by them.  Did Caleb Dume ever make it to safety?  If so, was he scarred for life after seeing his master gunned down on Kaller, then having the Clones turn on him too?  It was all too much.  He felt small and overwhelmingly powerless.  Like absolute miserable shit. The only thing he could do was drown his emotions in whatever Cid’s bar was serving. 

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

Sometime later, after draining his glass, Hunter’s senses tingled.  Sitting up and rubbing his face, he caught a scent.  His nose found the source down the opposite end of the bar.  Hunter had been so inside his own head, entirely missing someone in the near empty establishment.  Surprising because she was also giving off vibes of deep emotional angst.   

Hunter was met with the view of a woman sporting an unruly silver mohawk containing a streak of black hair trailing down the long sideswept bangs and a tail of hair down her back and a heavily tattooed upper torso.  She looked and smelled intriguing.  Currently, she was staring intently into her empty glass.   

“Hey”, Hunter addressed Cid and nodded down the bar, “Who's she?” 

The Trandoshan rolled her eyes, “Why?  Ya looking for a world of hurt, Bandana?  “Cause that’s all you’re gonna get with that one.” 

“No seriously, what’s her name?” 

“She comes here to drink alone.  The last idiot who didn’t respect her space left a permanent stain on my carpeting.  That Momma has zero patience for Bantha shit” 

“Momma???” 

“Yeah, she’s got a kid.  The dad split.  Just the two of them now.  And she’s protective of her kiddo.  They’re ‘Nomaadi”, so they tend to keep to themselves.” 

“Nomaadi?” 

Cid sighed and rolled her eyes again gesturing wildly, “Nomaadi!  Travs!  They wander the galaxy with no known homeworld.  Come on, Bandana, you never heard of ‘em?  Met ‘em???  Her people are scattered all over the place.  You must have had to move them along while you were working for the Republic?  The Republic considered Nomaadi trash, so they got pushed out.  And they just keep on moving around the galaxy.  This new Empire absolutely hates them.” 

Hunter let that sink in while staring down the bar.  Cid contemplated these two sad saps sitting at either end.  

“She reminds me of someone I know.  Got the weight of the whole galaxy on her shoulders.”  Hunter’s gaze immediately snapped up to meet Cid’s eyes.  She held his gaze for a long, uncomfortable moment hands on hips. 

“Her name is Mad.” Cid finally answered as she turned and walked away. 

Mad.  Was her name Mad for angry or crazy? He couldn’t tell, but he wanted to find out.  She was a welcome distraction from the things he wanted to stop thinking about tonight. 

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

Mad’s inner stream of consciousness was abruptly interrupted by Cid. “Find any amazing revelations in the bottom of that glass? You're here to drink, not meditate.”  

Immediately she looked up to meet the bright green eyes of the Trandoshan. Cid’s first language usually was heavy sardonic sarcasm tinged with menace, but Mad saw a bit more in her demeanor. A tiny bit of empathy shining through...before the sarcasm blocked it out again.  

“Dark and Broody at the end of the bar wants to buy ya a drink if you're interested.”  

Cid pointed towards a very handsome man with a red bandanna and face tattoo staring up the bar at them. He raised his hand in a brief two finger wave and cheesy half smile. An attempt of levity with some drunken smolder.  

Heavy sigh and groan from Mad. “No creepers, Cid.  Remember last time?” 

Cid leaned in against the bar. Her voice finding some softness, “He’s ok. Done some jobs for me. Got a kid of his own, no partner. Kinda lonely. You both look like you need a drink and time out of your own heads. Whaddya say?”  

Another sigh from Mad.  What did Mad really have to do tonight? The next job wasn’t until tomorrow afternoon.  And Love was back at the Beldame with Sil fiddling with the shield generator.  The puppy was probably tearing up and crapping all over the ship.  Maker, what was she gonna come back to?  Mad didn’t want to deal with any of it tonight.  Luckly, Sil seemed somewhat responsible enough, and Love rarely if ever left the Beldame without Mad at their side.  Both teens had dragged Mad down the gangplank in the direction of the bar. “Go have a drink!” they chimed in unison “We got this!” as they ran into the ship.  Oblivious young'uns, dear Maker, now she had two...three with the four-legged pot roast they just “adopted.” 

“Fuck it. You’re right. Can’t turn down free Spotchka.”  

Cid winked and turned away to grab a glass. Mad straightened up, looked down the bar, and gave her best devil may care smirk.  She then gracefully signed “thank you” in Basic Sign Language to Dark and Broody.  

Cid plunked down the Spotchka.  Mad tipped it back with abandon, enjoying the feel of the drink on her tongue. The pleasant burn. The warmth of it down the hatch...  

“HELLO.”  

Mad choked and spit the drink right onto Cid.  

“Smooth move, Bandana”, disgusted and slightly pissed Cid retreats to wipe herself down. Dark and Broody had suddenly and stealthily materialized in the seat next to Mad.  

The pleasant burn is now a fire in Mad’s nose and throat. Spotchka ran down her chin and onto the bar. “Are you trying to Kriffing kill me!” in between coughs. Anger rising. What the fuck, this guy! Dark and Broody looks embarrassed and concerned.  She briefly considers punching him in the face.  

“Hey Cowboy” by Devon Cole: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rORqh-tCKEY 

“Sorry...I should have given you more warning” he replies while offering several napkins. Mad grabbed some from his hand holding them to her mouth.  

Cough subsiding, nose still burning, Mad takes in the visage of Hunter: Head of amazing thick black hair, trim body, muscular, deep brown eyes that she could get lost in... She shakes her head and his smokey, sexy voice slides into her ears, “You ok? Anything I can do?”  

Mad’s expression was ambiguous while trying to calm down.  She sits staring intensely at Hunter.  He noticed the depth of her eyes: flecks of yellow mingled with green.  While her surface demeanor gave little away, Hunter’s senses pick up anger, confusion...and a slight glimmer of attraction.  She looked like she might attack and eat him alive.   The prospect seemed exciting.   His eyes dropped and scrutinized her chest tattoo for the first time. 

“My eyes are up here, Stud” she growls.  He notices her noticing him looking at her chest and immediately becomes embarrassed.  His expression shows it, as his eyes widen and immediately shoot back up to her face.  “Just looking at your tattoo.  Honest” he raises both hands in surrender. 

“You always this smooth with the ladies?” 

“Little off my game tonight.  Can I try again?”  Hunter gives Mad a sly smile. 

Cid sidles back up to the bar, “Drinking only, no maiming...and NO sex in the bathroom.  If ya wanna do that, then leave my bar!”  Hands on her hips, looks across the room and suddenly shouts, “SHUT UP, YOU TWO, and mind yer own business!” 

Bolo and Ketch stop laughing and solemnly return to their game of Djarik. 

“Mad, I need Dark and Broody here in working condition for my next job.  So go easy on him.  He’s harmless.  Bandana, quit being such a laser brain.  You guys are stinkin’ up the joint with your buffoonery” she nods to Hunter, then Mad “and your angst.” 

Both Hunter and Mad, taken aback by Cid’s scolding, soften and relax.   

“Cid’s right.  I really am harmless...and a laser brain.  My name is Hunter.”   

He extends his hand to shake.  Mad continues to stare into Hunter’s deep brown eyes for several beats before extending her own and taking his hand.  As her fingers slide into his grasp, there is an intense warm wave that passes between them both that ends in a tingle.  Hunter and Mad’s body hair stands on end as the tingle runs up one arm, crosses their hearts and runs down the other arm.   

Hunter, trying to maintain his cool, gives a lopsided attempt at a smoldery smile while still holding Mads gaze.  Mad was never prepared for this sensory experience and immediately inhaled while her pupils dilate, and her face slightly flushes.  Hunter can hear her heart skip a beat, then pick up to a frenetic pace.  He smells perspiration as it begins to form upon her skin.  He also smells a faint hint of arousal.   

“Mad...”  She’s thrown off by what just happened and quickly pulls away.  She’s used to whatever crawls into the bar trying to daftly impress, threaten, cajole, talk down to, manhandle, or manipulate her.  He’s self-depreciating, disarming, and a bit goofy...while smoking hot.  She’s confused and warming up to this Hunter guy. But the walls are still up.  The urge to bust him in the chops has left her mind. 

“Wooo.  That was...intense!”  Mad’s feral demeanor fell away to shit eating grin and head tilt.  She fans herself with her hand.  That sensation was amazing!  What the hell did HE do?    

Hunter chuckled.  “Uh, yeeaaah...” Casually crosses his legs to hide a semi erection.  That sensation was amazing!  What the hell did SHE do? 

“That happen often?” 

“Nope.  You’re the first.”   

“Shush...flattery will get you everywhere” Mad leaned in closer to Hunter, still not breaking intense eye contact.  She was falling into the pool of those warm brown eyes.  Basking in them.  Hoping not to drown. 

“I can only hope,” he counters.  His heart flutters first, then he feels a second flutter between his crossed legs.  Physically he feels amazing.  Mentally, he feels like an idiot.  

Cid, leaning against the back of the bar, rolled her eyes.  “Can I get you love birds to move the party to The Oasis?  I can’t handle the melodrama.  Give ya a bottle of free Spotchka to get lost.” 

“The Oasis?”  Hunter said suddenly.  He was very confused.  To the best of his knowledge, Cid never mentioned it. 

“It’s a secret little hideaway.  She doesn’t let just anyone use it.”  Mad winked at Cid then gave Hunter a conspiratorial grin. 

Cid wrinkled her nose and shot Hunter a nasty look, “I never let your Batch in on it...except for Tiny.  Your ship smells like poodoo.  If you trash my Oasis, you’ll owe me FOREVER!”  She followed this up by pointing her long bony Trandoshan claw at him.   

Yep, that did it: Totally killed Hunters erection. 

Cid plunked down a full bottle on the bar.  Mad grabbed it as she got up from her bar stool.  “Care to join me for Spotchka under the stars...Hunky?”   

Two loud and very offended scoffs from across the room, “How come we don’t' get free bottles?” 

“SHUT IT!” from Cid “Or you both are gonna get a bottle each...upside your heads!!!” 

Hunter could only answer with a smile and nod, grateful he could now get to his feet without embarrassment from a certain bodily function.  He followed Mad to Cid’s office and through a hidden doorway.  

“Don’t trash my Oasis!  I MEAN IT!!!”  came Cid’s shrill threat from the other room.   

Mad grabbed Hunters hand and led him through several dark winding stairways, many doorways, purposeful twists and turns that confused the sense of direction. The last door opened to a rooftop area... 

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

CHAPTER 2 forthcoming...with smut!!!

Hope you were entertained.  Please leave feedback in the comments, and PLEASE REBLOG!  Thanks. 

[444tsumu]

HAPPY 100 MARS!!!/&/&: AHHH! okay so i’d love a tier three if you didn’t mind! i wanted to know which 3 characters would smoke ouid and what you think smoking with them would be like? ily tysm!

▭ WHICH CHARACTERS SMOKE WEED?

includes matsukawa, hanamaki, suna

warnings drug use, explicit content, doing things under the influence, implied sexual content, slight nsfw.

authors note lol ik some people don’t like the whole “w*ed” and dr*g use hc but it’s all fiction and based on my own personal opinion (: i don’t mean to offend anyone lol i smoke too <3

This is a long one, beware <3 also it’s also my dream blunt rotation LMAO

                          𖥻 MATSUKAWA, ISSEI !

definitely the philosophical stoner

always has a question or an answer

depends on how much he’s smoked though

eyes get really red and he looks really hot

prefers backwoods over regular papers

always smoked regular papers though bc woods are bad for you (:

does that thing where they lick the paper and look at you at the same time

the hottest man smoking ever god please

always makes sure to have you sitting on his left so that he passes it to you first

loves smoking people out

doesn’t really care if you put in money or not

if issei is around, everyone is getting high

smokes makki’s unemployed ass out like everyday lmao

loves to hotbox

lights you up for the first time and tries to get you into another galaxy

“if you’re gonna get high, at least do it right”

definitely funny as fuck when he’s high

always definitely ready to fuck

very touchy when he’s high

will hold on to you for a long time and forget he’s doing it

but if you make him let go he genuinely feels the skin contact nearly rip off

calm down mattsun your possessiveness is showing

tries to explain all the different types to you but forgets mid sentence

literally cannot formulate a single structured thought

definitely leans in to make out with you more than once

loves shotgunning with you

already lazy but when he’s zooted he’s UNBEARABLE

he really does wanna fuck but ends up smoking too much with you because you played chicago and forgot

doesn’t really get hungry for food but munchies?

ate all of the snacks

has no remorse for his actions either

stares into the deep nothing for like 10 minutes

just to snap out of it and look around suspiciously

“do you guys hear that….?”

“…..no?”

“………..the paint is screaming at me?”

ok buddy don’t ruin this for everyone else

knows how to french & ghost inhale

has argued with makki many times over the earth being flat

doesn’t really think it’s flat

ends up believing it is after makki told him the world was actually dome shaped

has a grinder shaped like a dragon ball

not a peer pressuring kinda guy but thinks everyone should get high at least once

definitely gets iwa and oikawa to try

loves getting oikawa high cause he thinks the guy is fucking hilarious

laughs at everything

just a great guy, especially when he starts smoking

falls into a weed coma and doesn’t wake up for like 3 days though

treats it like it’s a regular hangover

definitely falls asleep with his entire body on top of you and no remorse for the weight

says “i’m fried” and isn’t embarrassed about it for whatever reason

he’s hot so no one judges him

                      𖥻 HANAMAKI, TAKAHIRO !

definitely a comedian when he’s high

always the funniest guy in the room

when him and mattsun are together though?

undefeated

him and issei both smoked for the first time together

after that though?

they became unstoppable

don’t get me started with after volleyball season ended

prefers bongs because he thinks he looks cooler lmao

everyone assumes makki is high but they don’t know he actually gets high

offers to smoke you out cause you’re hot lmao

makes fun of you when you cough

even though he still coughs

hates hotboxing because he can’t handle it

but refuses to pussy out so he’s always the first one to agree

in his own words

“my mother didn’t raise no bitch”

makki please

ideal smoking partner

is one of those people that fuck the passing rotation up because he refuses to pass it to anyone but you

secretly does it because he doesn’t want anyone else’s lips touching yours

prefers to smoke with just his close friends but doesn’t mind a session

doesn’t like shotgunning cause he starts thinking his breath smells bad

gives in anyways because he doesn’t want you doing it with anyone else

loves when you put your legs on him

the pressure gives him chills

makes jokes 24/7 because he likes hearing you laugh

can’t french inhale but mattsun taught him how to ghost inhale and he hasn’t stopped since

takes videos of himself cause he thinks he looks cool

realizes he looks like a fucking idiot but fuck it we ball

falls into a weed coma with his head on your lap and his phone unlocked and still on

does that thing where he lights it up with it in his mouth and looks really fucking hot while doing so

has a breaking bad rick & morty rolling tray and is really proud of it

gets really into music when he’s high

will sing along to all the songs while he’s packing the bong

as i repeat

looks hot while doing so

definitely a hungry high

orders food before you even get to ask

“makki, want some snacks?”

“oh nah it’s cool, i already ordered mcdonald’s”

“????? we just finished smoking????”

prefers smoking over drinking but will do both when he wants to go big or go home

eyes get really low

talks kinda slow but really deep and it’s fucking hot

laughs by throwing his head back and it’s really cute

gets cold when he’s high

it doesn’t matter the season

he gets fucking cold and it makes no sense

so he’ll need your body heat to warm himself up (;

                            𖥻 SUNA, RINTAROU !

a confused high

no doubt about it

this man never knows what the fuck is going on

ik everyone complains about the stoner!suna hc

but i think it’s fucking hot lmao

always has like 2 blunts rolled and on him at all times

is one of those people that will use any excuse to do it

“……(sighs) i’m gonna go take a smoke break.”

“suna we just got here??”

“exactly”

likes joints and edibles the best

not much of a hungry high or munchie high

but he hyperfixates on a certain food and will eat it until there is nothing left

ate an entire pack of gum in one sitting before

definitely watches cartoons the minute he starts to feel the buzz

rarely talks unless to pass it to you or make a single joke that has you about to pee yourself

he doesn’t say much but when he does?

the man leaves an impact

hates smoking with other people

doesn’t like when they fuck his blunt/joint up

hates smoking joints rolled by other people unless he watches them do it

always complains when you ask to smoke with him but secretly loves it

shotguns with you and acts like nothing just happened

hello sir how dare you make me fall inlove like that

forgets everything so don’t try to say anything important to him

zones out because he’s too busy imagining fucking

but then forgets about fucking and starts thinking about what’s on the tv

can’t hold a conversation but will go in-depth as to why spongebob squarepants was more than just a sponge

“no you need to listen to me, patrick star is much more than just his best friend—”

“….rin what the fuck are you talking about?”

“you’re asking me like i know? pass the blunt.”

definitely got into smoking in high school but didn’t actually do it like that until college

lies on his drug tests lmao

smokes after every win as a celebration and smokes after ever loss as a reliever

lmao seek help sir

definitely tries to get you to take your shirt off when he’s in the moment

swears it’s because he’s doing you a favor but really just loves how you look in his clothes when he’s high

doesn’t really know when to stop because he’s never greened out before

all his supplies is a simple shade of black

he’s a simple man

can do all the smoke tricks

but won’t do it in front of anyone cause he hates when people point it out

likes hotboxing because it gets him higher faster

is actually friends with the guy he gets weed from lmao

his perfect date with you was that one time you guys stood home and did nothing but smoke and watch family guy

tears up every time he thinks about it

has a picture of himself with two blunts in his mouth and his eyes really red and it’s really fucking hot

giggles even though he tries not to

uses pens when he can’t physically have weed on him

doesn’t really like it because the pen high makes him knock out after a few pulls

once rin falls into a weed coma???

don’t even think about trying to contact him cause that man might as well be dead

doesn’t wake up to save his own damn life

you can smack him and the most he’d do is probably groan and turn his head lmao

[padawanlost]

Something I've noticed recently over the past few months is this trend where people have been diagnosing Anakin with narcissistic personality disorder instead of C-PTSD or BPD, the more commonly seen diagnoses. I personally disagree, but I wanted to hear your "two sense" on the matter if you will, you're one of the best meta-writers on this site.

It’s because people don’t like Anakin as presented on screen. They want Anakin to be as selfish and arrogant as possible so they can blame him from everything that happened. If it’s ALL about Anakin than everyone else can be left off the hook. 

Anakin ‘I don’t want to be a problem’ Skywalker is clearly narcissistic. I mean, he fits all the signs:

Have a sense of entitlement and require constant, excessive admiration

“Ten years in this place, and still he was an object of interest. Of speculation. All their hopes and dreams hanging on him like decorations on a bantha skeleton at Boonta Eve. He hated it.” [Clone Wars: Wild space, Karen Miller]

Have an exaggerated sense of self-importance

“You would forgo your destiny for Padmé?” Anakin’s brows beetled in anger. “I never claimed to be the Chosen One. That was Qui-Gon. Even the Council doesn’t believe it anymore, so why should you?” [ James Luceno. Labyrinth of Evil]

Expect to be recognized as superior even without achievements that warrant it

Anakin bumped his hand against [Obi-wan]. “Wait. Just—wait.” Embarrassed, he took a deep breath. “Look. Don’t take this the wrong way. It’s just—it’s the mission, right? That’s what matters. So—”  “Anakin.” Obi-Wan’s whisper sounded amused. “It’s fine. I was about to suggest it myself when the droids turned up.”  “You were?”  “Play to your strengths and minimize your weaknesses. That’s how a battle is won. That’s how we’ll win the war.”  Anakin had to smile. I should’ve known he wouldn’t take it personally. “Yeah. So—once I’m up and over and nobody raises the alarm, give me a five-count then follow. I’ll give you the best Force boost I can. Not that you’ll need much. Your leap was only a meter and a half behind Master Windu’s. Remember?”  Obi-Wan gave a breathy chuckle. “I remember I had nosebleeds for a week afterward. Don’t ever feel bad for being extraordinary, Anakin. Now off you go. We don’t have all night.” [Karen Miller. Star Wars: Clone Wars Gambit: Stealth]

Take advantage of others to get what they want

“He thought of how unflinchingly loyal Anakin was to anyone he considered a friend.” [Matthew Stover’s Revenge of the Sith]

Exaggerate achievements and talents

He was the Chosen One, they told him. He was supposed to bring balance to the Force. Anakin thought that some little extra support might go with being the Chosen One, a helping hand or at least some understanding from the Jedi Council, but instead he was passed around like an unwelcome burden, ending up with Qui-Gon Jinn and then Kenobi because nobody else would have him. His chosen status meant less than nothing; it felt more like a stigma. And they wondered why he was difficult at times. Maybe they didn’t want balance, whatever that was. Maybe nobody liked a Jedi who was that different. He felt like an embarrassment to them. I do everything you ask of me. I try so hard. When is it going to be enough? When are you going to say, “Okay, Anakin Skywalker, you’re good enough”? Karen Traviss’s The Clone Wars

Be preoccupied with fantasies about success, power, brilliance, beauty or the perfect mate

Impatience. Concern. Relief. Loneliness. Weariness. And grief, not yet healed. Such a muddle of emotions. Such a weight on [Anakin]’s shoulders. Months of brutal battle had left [Ahsoka] drained and nearly numb, but it was worse for Anakin. He was a Jedi general with countless lives entrusted to his care, and every life damaged or lost he counted as a personal failure. For other people he found forgiveness; for himself there was none. For himself there was only anger at not meeting his own exacting standards. [Karen Miller’s Star Wars: Clone Wars Gambit: Stealth]

Believe they are superior and can only associate with equally special people

It’s not just Skywalker’s rank that makes us give him one hundred percent. It’s because he treats us with respect, and he puts himself on the line with us.” [The Clone Wars by Karen Traviss]

Monopolize conversations and belittle or look down on people they perceive as inferior

Having worked their way around the village, finding nothing to wake their uneasily sleeping sense of alarm, Obi-Wan and Anakin returned to the beaten-dirt square and the charter house. Its doors were open now and a woman who had to be Teeba Brandeh stood on the broad step, hands on her narrow hips, watching the children scatter across the square to play a proper game of kickball. Grinning, without bothering to ask if he might, or if it were wise, or if they had the time to spare, so independent these days, Anakin jogged to join them. After a moment’s amazed hesitation the children welcomed him with squeals of delight, rough-and-tumbled him into their midst and made him one of their own. Obi-Wan shook his head. “He’s nice,” said the girl with the bracelet and the ragged hair, wandering over to stand beside him. “Don’t be cross with him, Teeb Yavid.” Karen Miller. Star Wars: Clone Wars Gambit: Siege

“Oh, no,” said Anakin, grinning. “It was fun too.”  May the Force give me strength. “And that business with the boy? Because when I said no heavy lifting I—” Anakin’s amusement vanished.  “He wasn’t heavy. These younglings are skin and bone. I look at them and—” He clenched his jaw.  ”Karen Miller. Star Wars: Clone Wars Gambit: Siege

Expect special favors and unquestioning compliance with their expectations

[Anakin] did not like the fact that he had won. It seemed wrong that he had stepped so far out of line, and yet had been retained as a Padawan. He did not like the unease this victory, if victory it was, produced in him. Above all weaknesses, arrogance was the most costly. They keep me here because I have potential they’ve never seen before. They keep me in training because they’re curious to see what I can do. I feel like a rich man who never knows whether his friends are true-or whether they just want his money. This was a particularly galling thought, and certainly neither true nor fair. Why do they put up with me, then? Why do I keep testing them? [Greg Bear’s Rogue Planet]

Have an inability or unwillingness to recognize the needs and feelings of others

“I’m sorry. I’m not normally this stupid. I just—” And then she felt her face crumple and heard herself sob. Her knees buckled and she began to sink toward the floor. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she choked. “Don’t mind me. I’m fine.” [Anakin] caught her before she tumbled completely. Lifted her without effort and carried her to the sofa. Boneless and unprotesting, she let him. Let her face turn to his roughly shirted, dirty chest and howled her rage and shame against him. Dimly, she felt his hand warm and comforting on her back and heard his soft voice saying, over and over, “It’s all right. It’s all right. You’re safe now. It’s all right.” The crazy thing was that she did feel safe. For the first time since those Separatist blaster bolts seared the air and sand of Niriktavi Bay, since she saw her friends and colleagues slaughtered, she felt safe. Then, abruptly, she felt mortified. What was she doing? Weeping like a child all over a man young enough to be her son? Where was her pride? She shifted away from him, unable to meet his eyes. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—I’m sorry.” “Don’t apologize,” he said gently. “You’ve got a right to be upset. Now, where’s that medkit?”Karen Miller. Star Wars: Clone Wars Gambit: Stealth 

Be envious of others and believe others envy them

The Jedi Council didn’t want me, either. Being the Chosen One didn’t count for anything. Master Yoda wouldn’t train me, or Windu. Every member of the Jedi Council had had something more pressing to do than help him work out what this terrible, galaxy-changing power of his meant, and how he should live in its shadow. He still wasn’t sure. Anakin recalled standing there in that grand, polished Jedi Council Chamber, surrounded by what felt like fear, and disdain, and bewilderment—who were those Masters to feel bewildered, that the only person there who cared if he lived or died was Master Qui-Gon Jinn.  [Karen Traviss. The Clone Wars]

[Anakin] had worried that Obi-Wan did not have room for him in his heart. But Shmi’s smile rose in Anakin’s mind. Hearts have infinite room, my son. JUDE WATSON’S THE TRAIL OF THE JEDI

Behave in an arrogant or haughty manner, coming across as conceited, boastful and pretentious

The fear and dread in her face eased, just a little. “You’re a very sweet young man, Anakin Skywalker.” [Karen Miller’s Clone Wars Gambit: Stealth]

[Anakin] humbles me, sometimes. He makes me feel small. He can’t see a broken thing without wanting to fix it. [Karen Miller’s Clone Wars Gambit: Stealth]

“I don’t know,” she said, floundering. “I can’t say I’ve ever given the Jedi much thought. I mean, not as individuals. I never expected to meet one—let alone two. I don’t tend to go places where your skills are needed. But—well—you’re gentle.” [Karen Miller’s Clone Wars Gambit: Stealth]

Insist on having the best of everything — for instance, the best car or office

“I’m not giving him to you,” [Anakin]’d told her. “He’s not even really mine to give; when I built him, I was a slave, and everything I did belonged to Watto. Cliegg Lars bought him along with my mother; Owen gave him back to me, but I’m a Jedi. I have renounced possessions. I guess that means he’s free now. What I’m really doing is asking you to look after him for me.”  “Look after him?”  “Yes. Maybe even give him a job. He’s a little fussy,” he’d admitted, “and maybe I shouldn’t have given him quite so much self-consciousness—he’s a worrier—but he’s very smart, and he might be a real help to a big-time diplomat … like, say, a Senator from Naboo?”Matthew Stover. Revenge of the Sith 

[wolveria]

The Jedi’s Gambit - Ch. 9

Pairing: Obi-Wan Kenobi x Cad Bane

Summary: The day Cad Bane turned himself in caused quite a stir at the Jedi Temple.

The way Luminara told it, he simply walked up the steps, approached the nearest Temple Guard, and said, “I surrender.” Toothy smirk and all.

Yes, Obi-Wan definitely had a bad feeling about this.

Series Warnings: Explicit sexual content, violence, medical procedures, Force shenanigans

AO3

Bane thought he had done a damn good job at fooling the insufferable ass known as Obi-Wan Kenobi.

For the remainder of the day, he had managed to lie in bed and make enough snide comments to trick the Jedi into thinking Bane was fine. Beaten to shit, yeah, but there was an unmistakable sense of relief around the Jedi while he sat there, returning Bane’s barbs and acting like this was a perfectly normal, not-totally-fucked-up situation they were in.

But it was fucked. Bane was fucked, and he knew it. If the Sith Lord didn’t come for him, than that damned jewel was going to drive him to madness. He knew exactly where Kenobi was keeping it, too. He could sense it, even now, just a few feet away in the main room.

Just waiting for him. Waiting for Bane.

The need was like an itch under his skin. The jewel had caused him pain at first when he had been ordered to hide it within a fluid sac in his chest. But after a while, it had started to hurt in a good way. And then it had felt powerful.

Bane wasn’t an idiot. He knew the thing would have killed him if it had stayed in much longer—bleeding or no bleeding. But that didn’t make him crave and want and need the cursed thing any less.

And now, here he was, acting like a thief in his own station. He didn’t make a sound as he snuck across the darkened main room, heading for the object of his desire. It pulsed, calling out for him, soothed him with unspoken words and truthful lies.

Bane paused as he spotted something, or rather someone, lying on the floor next to one of the consoles. Even in the dim light, he could see the Jedi’s light-colored hair and his pale skin.

Unwillingly, Bane recalled the last few hours of being forced to tolerate Kenobi’s company. His jokes about trying to make a decent meal out of Bane’s rations. His little quips in regards to how many secret hideaways Bane probably had stashed across the galaxy. The man either enjoyed the sound of his own voice, or he was uncomfortable by Bane’s long stretches of silence.

At one point, Bane had made a valiant effort at being his usual piece-of-shit self by offering Kenobi a space on his bed (“you cooked me a meal and I’m a cheap date”), but his lewd comments had sounded weak even to him. Kenobi had slightly shaken his head, his expression somewhere between pity and amusement.

It should’ve made him angry. He wanted Kenobi to get the hell off his station, never to see his stupid, smug face again, but… he also wanted him to stay. Bane was an addict. A needful thing. He couldn’t even pretend he hated Kenobi at this point. That he only wanted him for a quick tumble in the sheets just to kick him out afterwards. Bane had tried that once before. It hadn’t worked then, and he doubted it would work now.

There was something else he couldn’t deny, either; at the moment, he craved the jewel more than he did the Jedi. Whatever weakness he had for Kenobi couldn’t stop that now. The jewel would be his, or he was as good as dead.

Bane moved closer to where the Jedi had stashed his prize, inside a lead-lined munitions box. It would have worked for anyone else, but not for him. Not when Bane had tasted a sliver of the jewel’s power.

Before, he wouldn’t have thought twice about some infernal Sith artifact, its worth to him only as many credits as he could get for it. But now… now he understood why Sith went so crazy for this shit.

His ribcage was burning, fire licking across the space where the jewel had once been, but he ignored it, ignored everything as he reached for the case and opened the lid. Even though it had been magnetically sealed, he had almost been able to see its glow, and now he practically bathed in it, crimson light washing over his skin and filling his whole vision.

Bane reached for the artifact, his fingertips almost brushing across the crystalline spines when a firm hand clamped around his wrist.

Instinctively, he swept his free hand towards his attacker, preparing to backhand them and follow-up with a kick to the stomach, but his other wrist was grabbed just as easily as he first.

Before he knew it, Bane hit the wall and his wrists were pinned across his chest.

He struggled but Kenobi was stronger, Bane still hobbled by his injuries. He seethed at the Jedi Master, baring his teeth while he gasped for air, knowing somewhere in the back of his mind that he was behaving like a wild animal as he writhed and growled.

Kenobi didn’t give him an inch to move. His grip was firm, just as it had been in Takobo when he’d put Bane in a full body lock, and it made him struggle all the harder.

“Bane,” Kenobi said in a low tone, “you need to calm down. You’re going to hurt yourself.”

“Fuck you,” Bane snapped. “Fuck you, Kenobi.”

“Bane,” he said once more. “This isn’t you.”

“How would you know?” Bane hissed as he tried to buck his hips and dislodge the Jedi, but Kenobi remained steadfast and unmoving.

“While you can be an insufferable, violent, ruthless bastard, you’ve never been one to obsess over items of Sith or Jedi persuasion,” Kenobi responded in a voice so effortlessly confident that it made Bane want to break his pretty face in half.

“You know shit about me,” Bane said so vehemently his voice cracked. “You know shit, you arrogant prick.”

Bane bit down on the closest thing he could reach, which happened to be Kenobi’s shoulder. It proved quite effective, as the Jedi Master no longer wore pauldrons, and his teeth sank right through the robe and into flesh.

He loosened his grip and that was all Bane needed. He shoved his knee into Kenobi’s stomach, not once, but twice, and then punched him so hard across the cheekbone he heard something crack, though whether it was Kenobi’s face or his knuckles, he couldn’t tell.

It didn’t matter. The jewel was calling to him, singing for the blood it wished him to spill and the violence it wanted him to exact.

Bane stumbled forward and grabbed the box, nearly knocking it off the console, but his fingers wrapped around its edges and steadied it. He reached inside and grasped his hand around the jewel, feeling its points pierce his skin as he pulled it from the case.

The jewel was a red star, its previous glow a paltry light compared to how it shone now, blazing through Bane like a wildfire. It felt like a freezing shard of ice, and yet it filled his veins with molten flames that threatened to consume him.

“Bane!”

He turned toward Kenobi’s voice. The Jedi was bleeding from one cheek where Bane had broken the skin, but it was the horror in his eyes that filled Bane with intense satisfaction.

“Bane,” he raised his hands slowly, pleadingly. “…Please put down the jewel.”

There was a strange look on the Jedi’s face. If Bane didn’t know better, he would have thought it was fear.

Bane studied him for a moment, and then he looked down at the crystal in his hand. It pulsed with a steady, even rhythm. Like a heartbeat.

“There was a Sith Lord, once. We share a name. I got paid… to go after this Sith’s crystal.” Bane looked back up at Kenobi, unable to keep from his lips spreading over his sharp teeth. “And then I got paid to keep it in my ribcage, near my heart, so you Jedi wouldn’t be able to find it.”

His voice sounded strange to his own ears. As if the voice was coming through him, not from him.

“You know what this is, don’t you, Kenobi?” he asked, his strange voice laced with bitterness.

Kenobi’s expression was tense, his brows creased so severely Bane wondered if it hurt.

“This isn’t you, Bane. Put down the—“

“Say it,” Bane interrupted with a hiss. “Name it.”

Kenobi’s nose wrinkled in a way that was very canine-like.

“Bane’s Heart,” he finally said, the last word leaving his lips with tired defeat.

Bane’s grin widened.

“Maybe yer Force does have a sense of humor, after all.”

Bane felt it then—a surge, a vibration he could sense that went beyond senses. While they had been speaking, Kenobi had begun to levitate a very heavy ammo crate behind him. The Jedi had mistakenly believed Bane hadn’t known what he was up to.

As the crate came careening toward his head, Bane put up his empty left hand, and stopped the crate in midair. He didn’t even look at it; he could feel it through the Force. Just like a Jedi could.

“The Sith and the Jedi think they can hold all the power in the galaxy,” Bane said through his teeth. “But without yer precious Force, yer just like everyone else.”

The anger was building in him now, fed by the jewel, perhaps, but the origin was all his.

“Weak. Pathetic. Easy prey. You don’t know what it’s like to be truly powerless, and I’m gonna savor every minute I teach you that lesson, Kenobi—“

Bane stopped talking, struck speechless as the jewel was plucked from his grasp, his connection to the power of the Force immediately severed. The crate dropped to the floor with a bang.

“I got it!” Todo yelled as he flew over Kenobi’s head, hovering behind him and slightly wobbling as he tried to keep a hold on the pulsing jewel. “I got it, Master Jedi!”

Shock quickly turned to rage, and what little control he had snapped into a million pieces.

“You little fucking—“

Bane never got to finish. Kenobi lunged forward, and the last thing Bane saw was a curled fist, and the world exploded into color before vanishing into darkness.

Next Chapter

[writingsbychlo]

smoke and fire (12)

word count; 8943

summary; you and newt are called to another unusual call.

notes; this is the first half (technically) of a mini sub-plot. the end comes in the next part.

warnings; violence, gun use, description of injury, slight gore, intentional harm, attempted murder, reference to drowning.

“I feel disgusting.” You mumbled, water still dripping from your arms as you stood, shaking yourself odd a little and groaning at the chill that was beginning to sweep in. The lights on the firetruck were flashing, equipment still being loaded back up, and Newt was standing on the other side of the ambulance, a water bottle Minho had given him sitting in his hand as he took another large sip, gargling the water loudly and frothing it around his mouth before spitting it out onto the concrete and grimacing.

“I think I swallowed, like, half the lake.”

You felt bad for him, you really did, and you tried to peel the wet material of the shirt away from yourself. Unbuttoning it slowly, you frowned, wet hair plastered to the back of your neck in the ponytail you wore, and Newt choked on his drink, laughing loudly and spitting up water again. He patted at his chest, turning away from you, his cheeks going red as he tries to hack up water that had gone down the wrong pipe, and you patted his back, startled at his sudden reaction.

His eyes were watering when he recovered, wiping the back of his hand across his mouth. “You know, if I was straight, I’d be very flattered.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Your nipples.” He beamed, and your brows furrowed, before you glanced down, noting the hardened peaks from the cold, showing clearly through your tank that had gone clear enough in its pale grey colour to show off the plain design of your bra, and you scoffed. “Truly, it’s an honour, but it’s doing nothing for me.”

“Oh, no, whatever will I do now?” You mused, voice flat of any emotions, and he only laughed again, peeling off his shirt, and ringing it out, goosebumps rising along pale skin as the chill of the air washed over his skin. The lake was clear now, a group of kids who had stupidly enough decided it would be a good idea to jump off the edge of the dock before realising the wall was too tall and slippery with algae to get out, beginnings of hypothermia and ingestions of dirty water before anybody had wandered past close enough to hear them calling for help.

Sometimes, you really hated teenagers.

“Think if we’re fast enough, we can get back to the house before the firefighters? First dibs on the showers with the best water pressure, and guaranteed hot water.”

His eyes twinkled a little as he lifted a still damp but no longer sodden shirt back onto his shoulders, grimy and covered in green and brown stains from the water, no bothering to button it back up. “I take that as a challenge, and I accept.”

You climbed in through the back of the van, pulling open the bottom drawer and finding the plastic seat coverings, chucking one of the sheet packages to Newt for his own chair, before he slammed the doors with you in the back, and rounded to the driver’s side. Smoothing the plastic over your chair to make sure it was covered, your shoes squelched a little as you collapsed down into it. Newt did the same, and the second the keys were twisted into the lock once he was shuffling uncomfortably on the plastic, you were flicking the heating on to the highest temperature you could get it.

The downside of working in a van filled with drugs and medicine? The heat didn’t get very high in order to keep what needed to be refrigerated at the temperature is was required to be at. His eyes checked the mirrors as he reversed, noting the firetruck that was beginning to back out, the Squad truck leaving first, Gally and Fry still milling around to talk to the cops, and so you and Squad had a head start.

It would seem that they had the same idea, because Minho had a positively dangerous look in her eyes as she pulled up towards the entrance alongside you both, and Newt smirked, hand on the gearstick as he switched gears and pressed his foot down on the pedal. He surged forwards, the van moving faster than the trucks due to their added weight, a delay in its start-up, and the pair of you shot across the uneven gravelly path towards the main highway.

The red truck wasn’t far behind, and yet you were laughing a little at the determined look on your partners face, what had been a modest challenge was now becoming a battle between yourselves and the Squad team. You had the edge, being a lightweight vehicle, easy navigation and more speed, but they had the edge, the big red truck was more noticeable to other driver’s and they tended to move out of the way more for firetrucks than they did for ambulances.

As you met the junction for the highway, Newt flicked on the indicators and swerved onto the highway in a gap between cars that was too small to be considered safe. The move left you pressed into the side door of the ambo’, turning to look at him as his eyes stayed fixed on the road, a smirk on his face as the red truck was left in the dust, having to wait much longer to be able to pull out.

“Alright, Vin Diesel, settle down.”

“You want a hot shower to get clean? Or do you want lukewarm water with weak pressure that takes hours to get you clean?” You considered it, knowing that the more the showers were used, the weaker the water pressure got and the colder they ran as the hot water was distributed out, and you weighed out the pros and cons. You gave in with a reluctant sigh, watching Newt weave between cars, and he let out a triumphant noise. “Exactly. So, be a good co-driver, and play something exciting.”

“This is an ambulance, Newt. We have the classical jazz station, the news station, the emergency radio, or static and silence.”

“Sing something.” He offered, and you laughed loudly. “Maybe just yell exciting things at the top of your voice like it’s a James Bond movie. You can be my Bond woman.”

“Exciting things? You mean like ‘Quick, Newt, watch out for the rock slide’ or ‘Oh my God, Newt, he’s shooting at us’?” He hummed, rolling his lips together a little, and looking into the mirror where the red van wasn’t all that far behind anymore. “Oh, okay, I got it. How about ‘Quick! Newt! The bomb that will destroy world peace and the alien trade federation is about to go off, hurry so you can disarm it and save the galaxy!”

“That’s the one!” He shouted back, laughter taking up the cabin between you both as he picked up a little more speed, growling under his breath as distant wailing took place. “Did they just turn the fucking sirens on?”

“That’s illegal! A crime! Disqualified!”

Only a moment later, the truck was passing you by, Thomas lounging in the front seat with a smirk on his face, not even bothering to look at the two of you as he held up his middle finger, feet popped up on the dashboard, before they were pulling ahead, and you gaped at it.

“He flipped us off!”

“He did what?” Newt sounded like he had been told that Thomas had run over his dog, before his face was growing stormy, and he peeled off towards one of the exits, and you sat up a little more in your seat.

“Newt, this isn’t our exit, why are we slowing down? This is war now!”

“We’re taking a shortcut! I think.”

You pouted, watching as he pulled off onto the quieter roads, already resigning yourself to the loss. The van moved slower, not by much and certainly still considered fast for these roads, and you didn’t recognise the area you were driving through until you were almost at the house, coming at it from a completely different angle. It was a side that the trucks would be unaware of, the roads on this side of the house too narrow for the trucks to navigate on, but an ambulance could definitely weave and dodge along them.

You were expecting the grey garage to already be stained with bright and shiny flashes of colour, but as you approached it, the bay was still empty, and you gasped.

Unclipping your seatbelt before the vehicle had even rolled to a halt, and as soon as it was in park, haphazardly and slightly wonky within the designated space but still inside the lines, and Newt was ripping the keys from the ignition. You didn’t even bother peeling away the plastic overs, both hopping down from the van, doors slamming, uncomfortable runs in wet shoes from the vehicle to the changing rooms, the door practically bounding from the wall with the urgency that you forced it open.

Your fingers were trembling with both the cold and the adrenaline as you opened your locker, grabbing for the towel and washbag that sat on the middle shelf, slamming the metal canister shut a second behind Newt, and on the other side of the room, you heard a shower curtain swipe open, before the water spray was coming on.

Kicking off your shoes onto the white tile, your socks were ridden with water, and you stopped into the basin, flimsy curtain closing behind you. Switching on the water, you didn’t care about clothes getting wet as they were all drenched regardless. The water was hot and strong, pouring down over you as you let out a breath in relief, sighing out at the feeling, and stripping the partially unbuttons shirt the rest of the way down.

Dropping it to the floor outside, your vest followed, bra dropping by your feet for modesty, not all too thrilled about the idea of the entire team seeing your underwear. One fireman was plenty enough. Your trousers came next, panties following your bra, and socks lastly, before you were freeing your hair from its bobble and scrubbing dirt from the tendrils. The water was murky as it pooled around your feet, and you grinned through the suds as you heard the locker room door open up.

“Nice of you guys to finally join us!”

Newt laughed at your words, and you scowled at the taste of shampoo that got in your mouth, eyes squeezed closed tightly, but you couldn't hold back your laughter at the several complaints that burst out.

The shower next to yours clicked into gear, a slight dip in the flow of water as it adjusted, and it was steadily growing weaker as the firemen all changed and climbed into a shower, but you had already shampooed, only some soap and conditioner to go.  

“How the fuck did you guys beat us here?”

“We played by the rules, Bren! Flicking on sirens, that was cheating.” You tutted, the girl scoffing from the cubicle beside you.

“Uh, playing it smart isn’t cheating!” She retaliated, and you scrubbed a bar of exfoliating soap over your skin, the extra shrub helping to rid you of the feeling of grunge from the lake away from your flesh. “But seriously, how the hell did you beat us here with so much time?”

“Newt knew a short cut, apparently.” She made a vague sound of agreement, the boys all chatting loudly from the other side of the room, and the build-up of steam was beginning to give you a headache. Running some conditioner through your hair and combing the knots out quickly, you finished up, switching off the water and finding your towel, hand fumbling outside of the stall for the material, before you were finding it, and wrapping it around your body. Wringing out your hair, you pushed back the shower curtain and stepped free.

Newt was at the lockers, pulling a shirt over his head, almost fully dressed, the plastic washing basket from the corner was sitting outside him, water pooling through the cracks to the floor as his clothes dripped, and you scooped up your own, dropping them in with his and flashing him a grateful smile as he all but nodded in a promise to load them into the washer.

His fluffy hair was almost dry already, messy and sticking up from his towel, and you envied how quickly he could get ready again. How quickly all men could get dressed, really.

Taking your kit over to the sink, you fastened your towel a little tighter around yourself again to make sure it would stay tight, before wiping a patch in the steamed-up glass to see your reflection. Running a collection of moisturisers and serums over your cheeks, keeping it at it’s best despite the smoky and dirty conundrums you found yourself in on a day to day basis, you rehydrated and cleansed your skin, before moving on to your hair.

Heading to your locker to get a new set of clothes, you lifted the catch open, the door swinging as you gathered belongings, checking you had everything for a new uniform in your back-up bag, before placing it down on the bench. As you closed it, you jumped, a body leaning on the metal on the other side, and a mumbled curse fell from your lips at the shock. Reaching up to clutch at the edge of your towel and ensure it didn’t fall, you glared at the laughing attacker.

“You fucking suck. Why are you scaring me when I’m in a towel? Dumbass.”

“Oh, ouch. Cranky today, huh?” Thomas teased, reaching out a finger to poke at your stomach through the towel, and you jumped, slapping his hand away as he chuckled more.

“I’m cranky when I’m in a towel, and risking flashing the entire team because you wanna’ startle me!” He smirked, eyes scanning over your body particularly slowly, as if to make a point, and you rolled your eyes, despite the heat forming on your face. Adjusting your towel again, he watched your fingers move, and you kicked at his shin, watching him hop around in his towel at the aggression.

“Ow! What was that for?”

“You know what that was for!” You held your fingers up, pointing them from your chest to your eyes, and he got a wicked grin once again as he clocked onto what you were saying. “Go away so I can get dressed in peace!”

“So now you don’t want me around? That’s not how you felt a couple of weeks ago.” You glared at him again, crossing your arms and stomping your foot a little, knowing what he was referring to, and he hadn't been any less affectionate since. At the action, though, he gave in, hands held up in a surrender and his laughter following him all the way around to his locker on the other side, leaving you alone.

Members of the team were still wandering around, and so you tried to be as quick but as discreet as you possibly could, tugging your panties and trousers up under your towel. Your spare shoes were uncomfortable and tight, barely worn in as opposed to your regular ones, and you were cold as you put on the clothes that had been chilling in the metal canister, bag ready to be taken home to refill.

Rubbing your towel across your hair to dry it out better, you left it as it was, towel folding in the bag to be taken home, and you placed it all back inside. Adjusting your fresh uniform to sit a little more comfortably on your body, your fingers smoothed along the collar and flattened it down, before sweeping still damp locks away from your clothes.

The men were all filtering from the room, a faster turn around as they dried, all carrying dirty and sodden uniforms to the laundry room to try and get them sorted, hoping to find themselves with one less task to do when they go home, and not wanting to stink up their cars with the foul smell that came with the water from the dock by trailing the wet garments home.

The dull buzzing of the only hairdryer the fire station had was already in use by Brenda, shorter hair looking a little crazy as she only had her fingers to come through instead of her usual styling brush, and she was scowling at her reflection in the mirror as her hair curved up in the wrong directions at the edges, bangs looking untamed. She glared at your snickering as you approached, finger flipping over the switch to turn it off, clearly deeming the effort good enough, and she stuck her tongue out at you and handed it over, letting you start it up to reduce some of the water trapped in your own hair as she tried desperately to do something to control it a little better.

“Why don’t you just comb it all back?”

“And look like a starring member from ‘Grease’? Want me to start singing ‘Go Grease Lightning’ on the top of one of the fire trucks, huh?” She was so over-dramatic, and yet you loved that about her, shaking your head and smirking a little as she continued to struggle. You weren’t all that bothered about getting it completely dry, just enough that you wouldn’t catch a chill from it. You didn’t really feel like facing the next few weeks with a sore throat and a blocked nose.

“Would it make you feel better if I told you that I’m pretty sure I have a curled brush in my bag?”

She paused her work, arms crossing over her chest, hip leaning on the porcelain of the sink, and you could feel her burning glare on you as you continued to keep your one hair tame just with the use of the machine and your fingers. “You’ve had a blow-dry brush this whole time and you let me suffer?”

“Uh, first off, it’s not a blow-dry brush. It’s just a round brush. Make do. Secondly, you make it sound like I had food and you’ve not eaten for three days.”

“Same thing.” She hissed, playfully through it all, and she didn’t wait for permission, before she was meandering to your locker over hers and letting herself in, beginning to dig through the items in there to find the brush. She let out a triumphant little noise, and as she all but skipped back across the room, you decided you were close enough to dry, shaking your head to tame fly-aways and handing her the dryer back. You turned, walking away from her, and she let out a sound of complaint. “You’re just gonna’ leave me in here, alone?”

“It’s the changing rooms, not a back-alley at a nightclub at 3am.”

“What if I get lonely?” She pouted, turning the heat up and power down, the whirring going quieter so neither of you had to shout quite as loudly to one another, and you shrugged, backing away from her a little more, and smirking.

“Talk to your reflection. I’m going to make a snack.”

She huffed, but smiled, turning back to her plans, and you were the only one to what your soft chuckle as you left, the chill out in the corridor being shocking as you stepped from the steam-filled room to the breeze-filled hall to the main bay, shuddering as goosebumps rose over your arms, and you crossed them across your chest to keep your heat in.

Thomas was standing at the entrance of the laundry room, a basket full of wet clothes, nose turned up a little as Newt and Jeff loaded the machines, and you didn’t envy them at all. The doors to the common room were sealed shut tightly, presumably to keep in the warmth, because Fry had turned on both of the space heaters, and the room was already warming up to being hot. The smell of garlic bread was filling the room, some kind of cheesy pasta following it, and Fry was already singing loudly to the song playing over the radio, almost drawing out the television as Gally watched a movie that was so old it was in black and white, but he wasn’t paying attention, rather, he was texting on his phone and enjoying the background noise.

Minho was sitting beside him much the same, fingers moving swiftly over the screen, and Clint was chewing on a pen at the table as he filled out the puzzles in one of the newspapers from last week's stack.

“What’cha making, Fry?”

“Chicken and mushroom pasta, you want some?” Your face screwed up, shaking your head, and he laughed. “Let me guess, you don’t like mushrooms?”

“They’re gross and slimy. No offence to your pasta.”

“They’re delicious, and healthy.” He corrected, and you grunted, opening the fridge, and pulling out a loaf of bread, shuffling through the contents of the fridge to find a topping you wanted. As you searched, a soft bumping at your ankle caught your attention, a sharp and chipper bark to follow it, and you glanced down, finding a wagging tail and a ball of golden fur staring up at you expectantly. “That dog is a bottomless pit of food!”

“He’s a growing boy!” You waved the cook off, taking a packet of ham out and peeling a slice off from the inside of the pack, holding it up at about waist height, and watching as the dog shuffled backwards, staring up at it and preparing himself. “C’mon, Scoot, jump!”

The dog did so, a happy yip sounding from him as he did, snatching half of the slice as it tore in your hands, and chewing down on it happily, pieces falling from its mouth and onto the floor, and he was quick to lick those up too. “He’s never going to learn any tricks if you pamper him like that.”

You looked up, Thomas having come through the doorway, Newt following behind him, your partner raising his shirt to his nose and sniffing at it, trying to determine whether the stench had transferred to his uniform just from doing the laundry, before collapsing down in the armchair. “He just did a trick! He jumped!” Scooter did it again, snatching the rest of the ham from your fingers, and you gasped as teeth brushed over your fingers, your hand snatching back, and Thomas chuckled, coming to a stop before you and taking the ham from your fingers.

“He did not jump on command, he just jumped for food.”

“Fine! You try!” You raised a brow, and Thomas took the challenge, a smirk forming.

“Scooter!” The dog’s head snapped to face him, from where he’d been occupying himself with pawing at one of your undone laces, now focused on Thomas. “Scooter, sit.” The dog remained still for a second, your lips pursing as he continued to pant and wag happily, stood on all four paws.

“What was it you were saying?”

Thomas’ eyes flicked up to you, narrowing for a second, before he was trying again. “Scooter, sit.” Your jaw was slack as the dog did exactly as told, sitting neatly and letting his tail brush over the flooring patterns, hearing the fridge behind you opening and closing, jars and tins rattling as Fry continued to cook. “Good boy, Scoot! No, lay down.” Thomas clicked his fingers, pointing at the floor, and the dog flattened out, staring up at Thomas expectantly, and you huffed. “Good boy. You want a treat?”

A bark signalled that, and Thomas rolled up a piece of the honey-glazed delicacy that Fry was snatching back a second later with mumbles about it being wasted, and Scooter stood up to snatch it, running away across the room in a pitter-patter of movements, scurrying away to his bed in the corner.

“See?”

“How the hell did you do that?” You demanded, washing your hands under the tap and drying them off, before going back to the sandwich you’d been preparing, and Thomas seated himself on one of the island stools with a shrug.

“I’ve been practising. Wanted to surprise you.”

“Well, consider me surprised.” You offered, grabbing a knife from one of the drawers, and Fry groaned beside you, shooting you both a dirty look as you began to spread the butter.

“Consider me revolted.” He gagged, and you rolled your eyes, swinging your foot out to kick at his shin, Thomas flipping him off despite the heat that was building on his cheek, and the chef wasn’t deterred from mimicking your conversation. “Seriously, get a room.”

“We have a room. It’s this kitchen. Two out of three, we win, majority rules.”

“Nice.” Thomas grinned, holding his hand out, and you slammed your palm against his in a satisfying high five, before pressing the knife down and cleaning it off, sealing the butter back up and putting it in the fridge, before grabbing your fillings. Layering them on carefully, you started slowly, constructing your sandwich carefully, and building it on your plate, before slicing it evenly down the middle, starting at your lunch proudly.

You only had a second to appreciate it, before a large hand was picking up a piece of it, taking it away and biting the corner off or it happily. “Hey! Who the hell said you could eat my sandwich?”

“Sharing is caring, sweetheart.” He winked, taking another large bite and speaking through his food, hopping down from the stool, and your face screwed up. You took your now half a sandwich, walking towards the empty couch and hearing Thomas trail after you, the couch the wrong way to the screen, but you weren’t all that bothered about what was happening in this movie anyway, and so you faced away from it, spreading out along the couch. “Move your legs.”

“Give me my sandwich back!”

“It’s half gone now!” He held it up, showing you the evidence of the half-eaten piece, and you shrugged. As if to prove a point, he pushed the rest of it all into his mouth at once, cheeks feeling with food and lips barely able to close, before he was brushing crumbs from his shirt, and picking your legs up at the ankles, lifting them up to be able to sit down.

“You’re disgusting.”

“Yep.” His words were muffled, your feet being laid back down across his lap, and you took a more polite bite of the remaining half. His fingers moved to your shoes, finding the undone laces and wrapping them around his fingers, before pulling them tightly and looping them into neat knots. He repeated the same on the other foot, before slumping back into the couch a little, still trying to chew the whole mouthful, and you wiggled a little as you got more comfortable, sliding further down until it was your calves in his lap instead of your feet, and your shoulders could rest on the armrest.

His hand rested on your knee, thumb smoothing over you lightly as his other hand produced his phone from his pocket, beginning to swipe at it absentmindedly.

“You two are honestly sickening. I have toothache.”

“Oh, cut the crap, Newt. You spent a half-hour on the phone to me two days ago talking about Derek.” Newt looked shocked for a second, pale cheeks flushing with warm colour, before he was shrugging it off.

“Yeah, well, at least me and Derek have never cuddled in a waiting room at his job.”

“We aren’t cuddling right now!” You scoffed, taking another bite of your sandwich, and chewing it as you process what to say next. “Besides, it would be unprofessional to cuddle in a waiting room where patients could see. This is totally different because we’re inside the house, an-”

Your words went flat as you heard the siren overhead go off, even Thomas’ thumb on your knee pausing its motions, everybody going silent, only the sounds of sizzling oil and the muted television static to go as the alarm went off. You deflated, only yourself and Newt being called for, and you heaved yourself to a sitting position, Newt already beginning to peel his body back up out of the comfy chair he’d seated himself in.

“At least it’s only a local call, we’ll be back before the shift even ends.”

Your partner’s words did little to comfort you, and he chuckled as you continued to glare, before forcing yourself into action.

Swinging your legs down to sit up, you looked mournfully at your only half-eaten meal, before handing the plate to Thomas, who beamed at the offering, your fingers tousling his hair before you were wandering away, and attempting to pull your hair back into something that resembled a pony-tail using on the bobble on your wrist and your fingers.

Newt grabbed the keys, ready to set off, and you followed after him as the doors remained yet to even start swinging shut in his haste. Reaching the van, you hesitated as you neared climbing in, stripping away the plastic over your seat and dropping it down into the footwell of the van, watching Newt do the same. Starting up the ambulance and fastening your seatbelt, Newt flicked on the SatNav, the machine taking a second to load up, before it was programming in your given destination and beginning to guide you.

“So, that’s something pretty new.”

“What is?” Your eyes flickered over yourself, the same uniform you always wore clad on your body, and a pair of sneakers, your brow raising as you turned to your friend, the silence saying everything, and he scoffed. Switching gears as he pulled out onto the faster roads, he spared you a look, dubious and unbelieving of your confusion.

“You know what.”

“I assure you, I don’t.” You shuffled a little, the radio crackling, but none of the chatter directed toward the two of you was coming through yet, and you waited.

He sighed, flicking on the indicators and pulling out onto the highway. “You and Tommy. That’s what I’m talking about. What’s up with you two?”

Heat flushed over your face, and you sank back a little further into your seat, but your lips wanted to form a smile, and you had to bite down on the inside of your cheek just to contain it. “I’m not totally sure.”

“You’re not sure?”

“Well, I kinda’ know. It’s all so new. It’s scary, but exhilarating.” Newt only smiled, eyes flicking to the mirror to check over everything he was looking at, before taking another turn following the SatNav, a side road to leave the highway, and you were still waiting on call details to come through on the radio. “I mean, I know it’s something. He knows that, too. We’ve talked about it, but we’re just, sort of, waiting.”

“Waiting for what, exactly?”

“The right time, I guess.” You sighed, realising how odd it all sounded out loud, to be talking like a teenager to your friend about a guy you liked, but it also felt natural and right. “Everything has just been crazy lately. I don’t think we would be like we were without the craziness, and it’s kinda’ weird to think that this job has changed my life so much, that this house has changed my life so much, when none of the others did before. I think we’re just waiting to see if it’s real, or just an in-the-moment emotional deal.”

“Seems pretty real to me.”

You smiled, knowing that Newt’s words were intended to be soothing, but instead, they made your heart race a little more.

Everything made your heart race nowadays, like you were in overdrive all the time, you were constantly on the edge, and not in an anxious way. You’d spent so much of your life feeling closed off and locked down that you weren’t used to how it felt to be on the opposite end of the scale. You had anxiety, and fear, and loneliness, that was your normal status, but since settling into Firehouse ‘21, everything had been turned upside down.

Your heart would race with thrill and excitement, and the heat flushing over you wasn’t so much from rage - after you’d sorted your problems with Thomas, anyway - but from flustered shyness. On the days when you felt lonely, when the urge to be around someone else was stronger, your phone was there, lighting up with notifications from a group chat and you knew you had friends you could call, someone who would spend time with you, when they weren’t on duty.

It was all still new, and a little scary, and still thrilling.

Then, there was Thomas. You weren’t sure what it was with Thomas, because you had nothing to compare it to. Your previous relationships had been quick and spinning. A fling that ended just as fast as it started, almost always ending after a first date with tumbling into bed and shutting down when the first signs of intimacy began to rear their heads. You moved around and you never stayed put long enough to invest in something, but you had no plans of leaving Firehouse ‘21 any time soon, and so you’d allowed yourself to let Thomas in before you’d even realised it was happening.

Intimate and emotional, a connection that wasn’t physical yet, you didn’t even know what it felt like to kiss him, and yet it still made you feel a little breathless and lightheaded to imagine it because there was a weight and meaning hanging to it now. There was something deeper than you’d ever had, a relationship that wasn’t pinned on sex and quick connections to chase away the cold sheets when you felt truly alone, but instead, left you feeling warm and loved even when no one was around.

“So, what about you and Derek?”

It was Newt’s turn to be embarrassed, the gravel and shale under the tires crunching loudly as the two of you began to trail up abandoned dirt roads, the rickety and deafening sounds of the trains of the metal bridges overhead shooting past were like the banging of metal against metal, hitting a spoon against a pan or steel-tipped work boots on metal platforms.

Pale skin turned dark pink, and he flashed a cheesy grin, eyes sparkling a little, and you already knew how excited he was. “That good, huh?”

“Things with Derek are awesome.”

“I take full responsibility for that awesomeness.” You teased, and he chuckled, the van coming to a halt, and your brows furrowed, amusement disappearing and confusion over as you stared out at the empty scene. The SatNav on the dashboard clicked green and shut down as you reached your destination, clearly telling you both that this was the correct location, and yet there was nothing, and nobody to be seen. “Put a pin in that conversation.”

He only mumbled his response, equally as confused, and the two of you stepped out of the car, a chill sweeping over you as it became eerily similar to the last case you’d received with nobody present, still so recent that the police investigation into it was still open, the court case over Chuck’s death was yet to be closed and the arson investigators hadn't even completed their analysis. “Check the radio. Is it turned on?”

You moved back in, knowing that it was because the static had been playing lowly in your ears all the way through, but there was nothing else. Normally, at a call on the edge of a town like this, the two of you would be greeted by someone, a frantic pedestrian, friend or family member, the person who had made the call would arrive to lead you to the person, and even as you listened, you couldn't hear anything.

No loud groaning or yells of pain, no mangled screams for help or even a blood trail to guide you. There was absolutely nothing to suggest why the two of you would be here, and it all became more and more suspicious as each second ticked by. Newt tucked his hands into his pockets, and you picked up the receiver, sitting sideways on your seat and turning the dial, before pressing the button down on the side.

“House ‘21 ambulance, calling in. We haven't had any more details, can we get an update?”

You waited for a second, eyes narrowing as the machine clicked you through to an operator, and there were muffled voices in the background of the call centre, before a clearer voice rang through. “‘21 ambulance, can you confirm your location, registration number and ID for me.”

Newt smirked at the frown on your face, knowing that every so often a caller came who actually required you to cite the information. While you couldn't deny that it was protocol, and they should be doing it every time, most of them took it simply at your word of being the paramedics, because they knew that most robbers wouldn't be bothering to call in on the radio of they were stealing from an ambulance, they’d just clear out all the medicines and run.

Listing off the information she requested, you listened and waited, the sound of long nails typing quickly at a keyboard sounded out, and you turned up the volume, holding the device out from you a little, so Newt could hear more clearly, even as he wandered a few feet away, looking around some more. “Still there, ‘21?”

“Yep.” You paused, hearing a few more clicks, before the woman was sighing.

“My files don’t have much. The caller didn’t leave a name or an identification, the only notes here are the address, and that you’re looking for a stab wound victim.” Newt's brows raised as he heard the words, and you only felt more confused. If someone had been stabbed, there should be a trail of blood or someone calling for help, you should be able to see them, they couldn't have gotten far without leaving a pathway of where they were, and yet, there was nothing here except the trains on the bridge overhead. “That all?”

“That's all.”

She hung up not long after, and you grabbed for your go-bag, chucking Newt his bag too, and he only just managed to catch it as the breath was knocked from his lungs, sticking his tongue out at you childishly as you grinned, before slamming your door back shut, and letting Newt lock it up, the van chirping and flashing as it sealed.

Swinging your bag onto your shoulder, your partner mimicked you. Wandering away together, you paced a few minutes from the van, staring out across the empty area, and crossing your arms. “I gave up my lunch for this shit.”

“You go left, I’ll go right, we’ll sweep around, and in ten minutes we meet at the van?” You only nodded, kicking at a particularly large pebble under your foot, and turning to face the direction you were told to go in. You heard Newt stepping away, pebbles shifting underfoot, and you followed suit, glancing back at the blond over your shoulder for a second. “Yell if you find something.”

“Will do.” You saluted, a grin thrown over his shoulder to you, before fixing your gaze ahead of you once again.

There were a few old houses, run-down and abandoned, nobody having lived in them for at least a decade. Broken windows were boarded up and front doors were hanging on their hinges, spray paint that was old and faded, drips and chips on the wood that was stained with years of abandonment, and wire fences with chains on that had been long since cut away. The grass was dead, yellowed and brown and overrun with weeds, and spoke spots ere charred blank with ash, where you suspected kids had come to light fires and get away from parents when they were bored; empty bottles of booze and cans of pop littered the ground, among wrappers and boxes for things too old to see the labels on.

You checked every garden, standing in the gate and calling out to offer help, but nothing except for silence came back. The rusty metal creaked as you stepped out from the last row, three random houses in an area of town that had clearly been skipped in the surrounding gentrification, left to fall into disrepair, and you didn’t blame it. The constant source of trains of the tracks overhead was already beginning to give you a headache, there were no real roads built to this area, and it was miles to the closest bus stop or shopping centre.

Turning back around, you didn’t walk straight back to him, but you walked a little to the side, taking an angle back towards the van just to be sure you were covering the maximum space that you could, checking over it all thoroughly, and just as you’d been giving up, your eyes caught the flicker of movement in your peripherals. When you focused on it, it took you a second to find it again, the trembling of metal stilts holding the bridge up forty feet above you disguising it, but then there was a twitch again.

In the shadows, easily missed, but then there they were. Sitting, leaned up against one of the bars from the other side, hand-pressed weakly over their stomach, head lolled to the side. You weren’t even sure if they had moved, or if they’d simply slumped forward because of the vibrations of the rickety bridge legs, and you felt a jolt of adrenaline race through you as you tried to jump into action.

“Shit!” You muttered, a slight rise on the hill before you as you tried to climb up it, the dust forming clouds behind you as the stones slipped at the sudden and uncoordinated movements, before you were stumbling closer to the person. “Newt!”

Another train shot overhead, drowning out the sounds of your shouts, and you hoped Newt had actually heard it, because you’d walked so far that he was more like a blur away from you, and you certainly couldn't hear his yells as he offered help anymore, they’d faded away a few minutes ago, but you couldn't be occupied with it now. The second the train had passed, you tried yelling again, out of breath and panting as you dropped to your knees before the person.

Their head was lying forward, chin pressed to their chest, fresh red blood seeping out between their fingers in weak bursts, and at least you knew they were still alive. Cupping their face, you pushed their head back, skin sickly pale and flushed with sweat, a very quiet groan leaving his lips, and hooded eyes cracked open barely at all to look at you. “Did you make that call?”

“Call?” He echoed, seemingly confused about what was even happening, but with the amount of blood that was staining the pebbles around you and clumping in the dust and dirt as it turned dark, you weren’t all that surprised.

“Alright, buddy, we’ll get you all sorted out, okay?” You circled a hand around behind his neck, the other on his side, and you needed to lay him down just to be able to get to the wound, because you couldn't see anything with him slumped over like this, daylight partially blocked out from the bridge overhead and shadows forming over the man. “I need to get you laying down, think you can handle that?”

He didn’t even nod, simply made a broken hum under his breath that you decided to take as an acknowledgement, before pulling him forwards. He let out a louder cry this time, the pain taking him over, and you heard the rapid-fire crunches of Newt running towards you, slightly uneven footsteps on his hurt leg, but you didn’t pay any attention to it, grateful that he’d heard you, but focusing on your patient.

His hands had fallen away from his wounds, and you fumbled for your torch, the light designed to check eyes did little to light up the wound but blood was staining the pale shirt he wore, leaving wet red patches as far up as his ribs. Newt skidded to a stop behind you, a hand running through the longer fringe in his face as he pushed it back, eyes wide.

“Well, shit, I’ll be damned.”

“Knife wound, pretty deep, can you hold the torch for me?” He nodded, stains of red smeared across it from where you’d already got blood on your fingers, and you pushed up the edge of his shirt, getting a look at the wound. He sank to his knees, holding the light over it more clearly, and you hoped he could sense your silent appreciation. It helped you to see, but didn’t clarify much, because blood was smeared over his skin and gave illusions about where his injuries started and ended, bubbling blood still leaving the gash. Dropping your bag down to your side, you opened it up, fumbling through for a pair of rubber gloves, and a tissue to be able to wipe away the blood with.

Snapping the latex onto your wrists and taking the folded clump of paper, dragging it delicately but firmly over the spot to try and get a better look. A second, maybe two, was all you got of clear skin before blood was beginning to fill the space once again, the man’s shallow pants and groans getting lighter and weaker, and you knew you had to hurry, lost time in having to search for him taking its toll now, but it was long enough to get a good look.

“We’re going to need some stuff from the van, probably the stretcher, but I don’t know how well we can wheel him across that gravel.”

“I can just pull up the van?” He offered, clicking off the torch to hand it back to you as you put the correct pressure down on the wound to stop the bleeding, pinching around the edges and holding tight to seal the wound, and you nodded.

“Yeah, yeah. That’s good. Pull up the van!”

He nodded, brushing dust from his knees as he stood, and you used your other hand to begin searching through your bag for the disinfectant spray you needed to start cleaning up his wound so you could put a provisionary seal on it.

You found the canister, shaking it carefully and trying to squeeze the lid with two fingers to get it off, a ‘pop’ sounding before the fading footsteps Newt was making came to a sudden halt.

“Woah, woah, woah..” You looked up, eyes widening and blood running cold at the sight. Newt had his hand held up, a man who’d ace you couldn't quite see behind the baseball cap and the hood he had pulled up to obscure his features, sleeves reaching gloved hands, and a gun in one hand, finger pressed over the trigger as Newt took a few steps back toward you both and stumbling slightly, his leg going weak as he stood unevenly on a rock, and you couldn't help the gasp in fear that left you. “Look, man, we don’t want any trouble. We just got a call, for that guy.”

He reached out one hand, pointing to where you were kneeling still, and you leaned forwards, moving very slowly as you tried to press down gently on the top of the canister, spraying gently on the wound, but as the man let out a sudden and pained noise, the gun moved to you, and you froze, jumping back from the actions and dropping the can.

“I know, because I made the call.”

“You made the call?” You repeated, the face of the shadowed man becoming a little clearer, a large tattoo taking up one side of his face, and you shifted, the uncomfortable stones digging into your knees making you wince as you tried to hold still, an ache in your muscles as your heart raced with fear once again. “If you made the call, why can’t we help him.”

“You’re not here to help him, his wound is just to get you here.”

“You stabbed a man to get ahold of a paramedic?” The gun clicked, the safety catch off, and you swallowed thickly, internally berating yourself for asking such a question when the moment was so tense. “Look, we’ll come with you, we’re more than happy to, but just let me help him and then we’ll go wherever y-”

“Lady, if you don’t stop talking, I will blow your fucking brains all over these stones.” Your jaw snapped shut, heart freezing in your chest entirely, and you nodded dumbly. “Great, now get the fuck up, grab your bag, and walk over here real slow.”

You hesitated, only for a second, before lifting your hand from the man’s wound, hearing him groan out a little, and you ducked your head, knocking your bag over and the contents falling out across the gravel. “I don’t know if you’re even sentient enough to hear me right now,”

Your words were as low as you could get them, hoping then standing a few metres away wouldn't pick them up as he focused back on Newt, and you packed away slowly,

“If you can, I’m leaving the antiseptic and some gauze here. You need to pinch the sides of your wound, lay still, take deep breaths, and hold as much pressure as you can. In about forty minutes, we’d be due to make a call in, we’re supposed to every hour we’re out; when we don’t report in, they’ll send another ambulance. Just hold on, alright?”

You nudged the items a little further into the shadows, hoping the man had caught your words and had the strength to hold on, before you were peeling off your gloves, tucking them into your bag, and zipping it up to sit on your shoulder. Holding your hands up to show they were empty, you stepped beside Newt, the look on his face silently questioning if you were alright, and you gave him a subtle nod, raising a brow in return, and he ducked his head once in reply.

He stood behind you both, pushing the edge of the gun against Newt’s head to urge you both forward, and you matched his steps, the three of you walking slowly as you allowed yourself to be guided. There was a sleek black car pulled up, one you’d missed when arriving, and you suspected he’d driven away and waited somewhere for the ambulance to go past before pulling up again, because it wasn’t exactly hidden.

“Look, we’re going willingly, alright? No fight here, I’ll help. Our ambulance is right there,” You pointed to it, hands still raised up, arms beginning to ache and tire, and Newt folded his, resting his hands behind his head, and turning to look at you as you spoke, “Just let me call in for someone else to come help the other guy, they won’t even get here until after we’ve gone anyway, it’ll t-”

Your ears were ringing, the sound of the bang going off, the rush of air, and the way it felt like an explosion had gone off inside of your own head. You stumbled, falling to your knees at the impact as your entire body went weak, and your vision went black for a second as you tried to process it. You couldn't focus, everything seeming a little blurry, and you could feel Newt’s hands on your shoulders, shaking you, a very muffled shout of your name, before it was all torn backwards once again, and you felt nauseous as the shock swept through your body.

The man crouched down, pulling his hood back and directing an angry gaze straight at you as you blinked to clear your vision, barely able to hear a thing. “That was a fucking warning shot, speak again, and the next bullet won’t miss.”

You had to read his lips for half of the words he said, barely processing them, the bullet that had flown past your ear was making everything fade around the edges, and you were hauled roughly to your feet by a hand under your arm, leaning you against Newt as you staggered the final few feet to the car that was your destination. You could barely clear your head, shaking it a little bit finding even that action was too painful.

Blood was rushing, your headache felt like it was about to split your skull in half, and your shoulder ached as you were tossed down roughly into the open boot, unable to catch yourself in time. Newt followed, the lid slamming shut, darkness surrounding instead. You could feel Newt’s hands on you, the flash of light from his keyring over your irises making you wince, his fingers pressing along your jaw and around your ears, checking for any signs of a ruptured eardrum or any bleeding, but as the car rumbled to life, peeling out of abandoned area everything felt like it was slipping.

Your fingers scratched at the flooring of the car, nails digging into the felt, grains and dirt stuck under your fingernails, and then the car jolted, dipping into a pothole on the road, your head hitting against the floor of the car, and everything you were still clinging to was lost as well as you blacked out.

[simpingforsoftboys]

Curiosity Killed the Cat

ft. Kuroken

G/N Reader

Read this first

Mini Series Here

Thanks so much for the request anon! I actually went back and forth with this- but I’m finally satisfied with how this turned out! Hope you enjoy!

Kenma hated these types of events. Blaring music, flashing lights, horny drunk people, crowded spaces. Yes, parties were the worst- but it wasn’t like he could tell Kuroo “no, I’m not going to attend your best friend’s 27th birthday party just because.” Which is why they’re in Osaka and not Tokyo at the moment. Kuroo had gone off to god knows where- claiming he was going to get some drinks for them- but that was 15 minutes ago and he still hadn’t returned. Shoyo was arriving late, so there was no one the dyed blonde felt comfortable with speaking too. Seeing no other option, he decided to seek Kuroo out on his own. 

“Excuse me.” The short male muttered as he nudged people aside to get to the bar. No one seemed to mind, too caught up in their dancing- probably thanks to their alcohol induced haze. His skin crawled in disgust as he passed by some chick who was making out with Miya Atsumu- if Shoyo was right with his suspicions, Sakusa Kiyoomi would not be happy. He pushed that thought aside. Eventually he made it to the bar- successfully locating Kuroo. “I was waiting what’s-” He was shut up by his fiance’s hand over his mouth. 

“Shh... look over there, across the counter- is that Y/n?” Kenma followed where Kuroo was pointing, they couldn’t see the persons face, but they had a similar figure and skin tone to your own. Suddenly the person turned- but they realized that it wasn’t you. 

It had been two, nearly three years since your emotional breakup, and they still found themselves looking for you in every room they entered. Kenma hadn’t gotten over his love for you- he doubted he ever would, but it was just another thing he had learned to live with. Kuroo slowly began to realize how much of an impact you had on his daily life, things he had previously taken for granted like a homemade meal at the end of a long day, hot bath prepped and ready, folded clothes and cute little notes. Those things were gone now, so he and Kenma had to step up and do it- until eventually they just decided to hire someone to do it for them. It wasn’t the same- sure, the housekeeper did an amazing job, but the difference was palpable. It sounded dumb but they could just feel the lack of love- your absence had created a void in the large penthouse. 

It had taken time, but Tetsuro realized that yeah, he did love you- not as much as Kenma- yet, it was a tangible love all the same. Which is why it hurt him that day- not only because you left them, but because you didn’t feel loved by him. He couldn’t find it in himself to be angry at you- that was his own doing. All you had done was leave him with happy memories. 

Kenma found himself reverting back to his old habits. Their home was a lot lonelier without you. Kuroo often went on weeks- if not months long- business trips for the volleyball association, leaving Kenma home alone for lengthy periods of time. No longer did he have you to keep him company or monitor his sleeping or eating habits. Even his viewers had noticed his unhealthy lifestyle and urged him to take better care of himself, but it wasn’t the same. So, without anyone there to stop him, he would fall into ruin- because then, when he was exhausted or kept occupied by the newest trending game title- he wouldn’t be thinking about all that he was missing. 

Neither of them had spoken- or even checked up on you since that day, those  few years ago. You had blocked them on everything, made your accounts private, changed your phone number, and asked your mutual friends to not share anything about you with them. It hurt- because how can you so easily shut out the people you love- but after much thought and consideration, they realize you had to be hurting twice as bad as they did. Unlike them, you had the time to simmer in your pain, hurt, and longing, while they remained oblivious. 

Ignorance was bliss.

The two of them left Bokuto’s party early that night, Kuroo said something about an emergency Skype meeting in the morning as an excuse. In actuality they found themselves driving to one of your favorite restaurants- they hadn’t stepped a foot inside the establishment since the last time they ate here with you. But- as it was for many things apparently- tonight seemed to be one all about stepping out of their comfort zones. 

“What are you getting?” Kuroo tried to act casual, but Kenma had known him much too long to fall for his act. 

“I think I’ll get (f/f).” 

Kuroo nodded. “I think I will too.” Neither of them particularly liked (f/f), but it had been your go to order. Maybe by being here and eating the familiar dish, they could pretend that they were simply on a date as a triad- and you were running late- instead of dealing with the reality that they were a couple now and not a throuple. 

Their food arrives and they dig in, eating slowly, eyes shutting occasionally, it seems like they’re merely savoring the flavor- when in reality they’re trying to picture you dining with them. No words are exchanged between the two- they’re together yes, but it’s somehow a lonely occasion all the same. 

If you were here, the table would be filled with easy conversation- you were always so neutral when you spoke, teasing when you felt particularly daring (they realize now that this was such a rarity because you were hesitant about starting an altercation- which no one should have to be afraid of in any relationship). Kenma would let himself loosen up and exchange snarky words with Kuroo, who quipped back savagely, and you would watch them- laughter spilling from your lips. Too bad they didn’t try harder to include you in the conversation- not that they intentionally alienated you- just that they were enjoying themselves too much to bat an eye in your direction. 

Yeah, it was better for you that you weren’t here. That was a fact they still had trouble stomaching. 

They hear the restaurant’s door opening in the background, but don’t care enough to look who entered. It doesn’t matter to either of the two that it’s late at night and logically there shouldn’t be anyone else here but them. Their imagined scenario is much more appealing than real life. 

“Put me down Tsutomu!” A male scolds from the lobby area, despite their best efforts, they’re unable to block the newcomers voices out. 

Another male laughs in response. “Calm down Kenji, I got you!” 

“Hahah! Why are you so red Kenji-” Someone else adds, this person’s voice is familiar. Kenma and Tetsuro freeze at the sound. It’s kind of weird how they recognize it- despite having slowly forgotten what it sounded like over the course of passing time. You know how each time you recall a memory it actually ends up altering it a little? That’s how it was with your voice. Eventually their recollection of it was changed to the point that they couldn’t quite remember how exactly your laughter sounded, or even how your pitch changed with various moods. 

Their ears were filled with you- wonderful, gorgeous, breathtaking you- the one who cared too much and pushed aside prioritizing yourself until eventually you couldn’t take it anymore. The Y/n that they still, could never seem to love enough- even now. But it was dissimilar all the same, since you sounded so happy, so content- what was weird was that they didn’t even need to see your face to confirm it. 

Neither of them dare to look in your direction, afraid that you’d disappear right before their eyes. It isn’t until they see your approaching figure in their peripheral that they glance over. 

You’re positively glowing. It feels like you’re an entire galaxy- so far and out of reach- and they’re merely stargazers. They’re stuck on Earth, forever fated to watch and appreciate your splendor from an impossibly wide distance.

The purple-nearly black haired man that accompanies you pulls your chair out, gesturing to your seat with exaggerated motions. You laugh, sitting down in the most graceful manner possible and let him push your seat in. He places a kiss to your temple before going to pull out a chair for the other brown haired male- whose cheeks are still tinted red. 

The three of you order appetizers and speak about many things- Kuroo can overhear ‘volleyball’ and ‘hospital’ mentioned somewhere in the mix. The two men- your apparent lovers- don’t even have to make an effort to include you in their conversation, it’s like second nature for them, just as it should have been for him and Kenma. They listen intently as you ramble on about whatever, the shorter brown haired one adding his two cents in occasionally, while the taller male questions or presses you for more details. 

“Kuroo I’m not hungry anymore.” Kenma says, and only now does Tetsuro notice how upset his fiance is. Normally the half blonde is composed and neutral, but right now his face is scrunched up like he smelt something sour. The feeling is mutual. He isn’t happy with the situation either. 

"Do you want to head back to the hotel?”

“No, let’s stay a little longer.” 

So they stay, silently watching as you make lively conversation with your lovers. Observing as you polish off your plates and finish dessert, they’re still seated when the throuple pays the bill and walks out the exit. Eventually the elderly owner comes out and asks them if they want to order anything else- a polite way of letting them know that they’ve overstayed their welcome. 

They tell her no, pay their own bill, and head back to their car. They sit there in the parking lot a little longer.

“Hey Kenma.” Kuroo murmurs, fingers drumming on the steering wheel.

“Hm?” Kenma hums.

“Do you think we could have made it work?” It’s a question that they’ve never actually voiced out loud- not even once- in the years since the breakup.

“Why do you ask? You already know the answer.” Is what he receives in response. Kenma’s right, he did know.

“I... guess I needed to hear it.” He says lamely.

He turns the key and starts the ignition. They drive back to their hotel in silence. 

They made their beds a long time ago. So it’s only right that they lie in it- even if the bedsheets are uncomfy and the blanket threatens to suffocate them.

Kenma regrets wondering about how you were doing now. At least before tonight he was able to take comfort in the fact that you still might be in love with them.

The old idiom was right. Curiosity killed the cat. And he certainly felt like he was dying.

A/N: Believe it or not the inspo behind this was the song Good Stuff by Griff. I really liked the whole idea of Kuroken x reader ending on semi good terms. The difference between how their emotions for the reader portrayed here vs IwaOi is an example of this. Unlike IwaOi, Kuroken is able to identify their emotions when given time and space, they’re not necessarily prideful and can acknowledge that despite being broken up with, they’re still the ones who were left with “the good stuff.”

They miss you sure, but they know it’s unfair to want you to come back to them when they’ll never be able to love you as they should. So they don’t even bother wishing or seeking you out. Of course, they do their best to maintain some semblance of a connection to you (like why they look for you in crowded rooms and eat your favorite food), but they’re fine with remaining curious. Of course no one can remain willfully ignorant forever though.