#have I lost my mind going deeper and deeper into Star Trek

[myopicfascination]

Ok we have crack fics, but what are peoples crack songs they have for their ships. Just absolutely bonkers song, but also works perfectly for your ship.

Mine is Coconuts by Kim Petras for Janeway x Seven

[goose-reads]

I was thinking about some of my favorite warrior cats, and i remembered this kittypet i got really attached to: Snowdrop. She was one of the kittypets encountered by the patrol sent to investigate what was blocking the river. I remember shipping her and Lionblaze together hardcore as a young child, and today i toyed with the idea in my mind again just to see where it went.

Far. It went far. It and other headcanons/tweaks completely changed the focus of Omen of the stars.

Things go as normal on the patrol itself, but when they got home, Lionblaze feels different. Dovepaw would assume he misses the patrol cats which leads to her trying to get them all to meet up again. Shes taught the same lesson she did, but this time she doesnt learn it. She keeps pushing until eventually shes forcing Lionblaze back to twoleg place. Him and Snowdrop talk again and have a good time, much to Dovepaws delight. This leads to Snowdrops interest in clan life, and Lionblaze. He did fight a beaver after all, thats impressive! After Lionblaze and Dovepaw went home, she’d follow. This leads to a confrontation between Snowdrop and Lionblaze where he cant say no and make her trek all the way back to twoleg place, so he begins sneaking off to teach her about the clans. Sometimes Dovepaw joins in to help, which leads to her so easily becoming friends and sneaking off to meet Tigerheart. Lionblaze has done nothing to really teach her its wrong.

To back track and shift focus ever so slightly, lets go back to when Lionblaze and Dovepaw left to visit Snowdrop. Cinderheart, now without Lionblaze or Hollyleaf, begins hanging out with Jayfeather more. As he uncovers her past life as Cinderpelt and she begins feeling pressured to conform to Starclans wishes and become a medicine cat like Cinderpelt. Jayfeather, all too familiar with the sentiment, fights tooth and nail to help Cinderheart forge her own destiny and identity. Shes not Cinderpelt after all, shes Cinderheart, and that means something. This reignites his will to fight against Starclans will himself, just as he had tried as an apprentice. Poppyfrost could do it, Briarlight could do it, Cinderheart could do it, why cant he?

Eventully, Snowdrop decides she wants to join Thunderclan. Lionblaze is nervous but he actually likes the idea of not having to sneak around to see her. Not like he did with Heathertail. Something thats been on his mind since he first started this little routine with Snowdrop. It had done nothing but remind him of his lost friend, and fallen sister, Hollyleaf. But if Snowdrop does become a Thunderclan warrior he wouldnt have to feel so guilty, and its this thought that convinces him to bring Snowdrop to Firestar. Firestar, being an ex-kittypet himself and Lionblazes grandfather, gives in and allows her in so long as Lionblaze teaches her the ropes. The rest of the clan isnt so happy. However Dovepaw, now Dovewing, is ecstatic. She is confused by Snowdrops negative reception and speaks up about it, earning the ire of many. This leads Ivypool to distance from her significantly more than she had been (seeing as shes had the same plot for the most part), but also to begin stalking Dovewing when she went out alone. Of course, this leads to her learning about Tigerheart.

Cinderheart had been slightly jealous of Snowdrop, and all the attention Lionblaze dedicated to her now, but had decided to move past it by now. There were better things to worry about than a fading crush on a childhood friend. Things such as her old apprentice, and how weird she had been acting. She begins prodding Ivypool for answers which leads to her gathering bits and pieces about the dark forest and Tigerheart and Dovewings relationship. She shares these with Jayfeather, who then looks deeper into the dark forest cats and trainees. When Spottedleaf steps in tosave him, he refuses, and actually ends up meeting Snowtuft. That mixed with meeting Ashfur in Starclan leads him to turning his back on Starclan altogether, and starts him on a path to forgiving Squirrelflight and Leafpool. He also begins working with Ivypool to plan against the dark forests invasion.

By bringing Snowdrop to the clan, Lionblaze has been outcasted by the majority of his clanmates. Cats like Squirrelflight and Leafpool support him though, and even help defend Snowdrops place in the clan. This leads to Lionblaze forgiving and accepting them. Berrynose was uncertain about her at first, but accepted Snowdrop, causing a feeling a mutual respect to foster between him and Lionblaze. And the same with Berrynose’s family. After all, Daisy, Mousewhisker, and Hazeltail are all outsiders too. Poppyfrost took some time but warmed up aswell, Snowdrop did help entertain the kits. Thornclaw, Spiderleg, and Mousefur were not so pleased, going out of their way to insult and scrutinize the two. They claimed Lionblaze only let her join so he wasnt breaking the code if they became mates, which made him feel oddly guilty. They werent mates, they were friends, thats all. He still liked Cinderheart right?

He took Cinderheart on a stroll to try and convince himself it was true, which led to his own discovery about the dark forest and Dovewings half-clan relationship. By the end, Cinderheart had fully accepted Lionblaze moving on, and Lionblaze was left dreading his lack of butterflies around the molly. This led to him acting weird around Snowdrop, who had began struggling to feel at home in a clan that seemed to not want her.

Ivypool, by now, had begun spying for Jayfeather. Jayfeather had begun refusing to go to half clan meetings and gatherings (which is how we skip over the kinda dumb Flametail plot) leading to Leafpool getting her job back. She encouraged Jayfeather to still help take care of his clan mates using his knowledge on herbs, but also suggested he trained under a warrior in his newly acquired free time if he really wanted to. If Jayfeather wanted to turn his back on Starclan who was she to try and convince him otherwise? She owed Starclan no favors. Jayfeather. Began training under Poppyfrost when the queen got restless, then eventually Brightheart again when Berrynose shooed Jayfeather off.

Upon Hollyleafs return things start getting serious. War with the dark forest is fast approaching. She reconnects with her brothers and old friends, especially rekindling a bond with Cinderheart. She is forgiven by and forgives Squirrelflight and Leafpool, going to them for updates on the clan frequently, an helping Leafpool out with herbs when Jayfeather is out training. She even helps Jayfeather train, and Snowdrop. This leads to her and Lionblaze having a conversation about Heathertail, during which Hollyleaf comforts him. The warrior code is important, yes, but she does not have to judge with the same scrutiny that Starclan does. This eases his nerves enough for him to tell Snowdrop about his feelings, which she reciprocates. He had introduced her to a new life, and stuck through the hardships to help, he was loyal.

When Jayfeather finds out Hollyleaf is alive, he abandons Starclan altogether. They cant know much of anything if they cant even know if a cats dead or not. Who are they to guide his paws for him.

Hollyleaf learned of Ivypools spying through Jayfeather and Cinderheart both, and offered to help hide it from their clanmates and even join her in the dark forest itself. This aided Ivypool greatly, which eased Dovewings nerves enoughto let her focus on her and Tigerheart. She hated how they had to hide while Lionblaze didnt, and while she wanted to come out with it, Tigerheart did not. When Dovewing said that if he truly loved her, he’d announce it himself, he choked up, unable to dedicate himself fully. He had a reputation, and what would his clan mates think? His father? His sister? Dovewing was heart broken, returning to Thunderclan to be comforted by her sister. She hated the borders. She hated the borders and what they did to cats. How much hurt came from them. Lionblaze and Snowdrop suffered because of them, Leafpool and Crowfeather, Her and Tigerheart. She couldnt even have friends from across the border like Sedgewhisker or Petalnose.

When the three get together to discuss the prophecy and plans against the dark forest, they come to a discovery. They each resent a part of clanlife. Jayfeather resents the blind faith in Starclan. Lionblaze resents the hatred surrounding outsiders and the clans xenophobic mindset. And Dovewing resents the clans separation and hatred of eachother. Each has strayed from Starclan, and each has grown more powerful because of it. Jayfeather can go into peoples minds, Lionblaze can fight against impossible odds and come out unscathed, and Dovewing can hear anything coming from miles away. They hold the power of the stars in their paws, because they are not bound by them, because they are not blinded by their light like so many cats are.

Leafpool is the one who tells them theres a forth cat, which leads to theorizing on all ends. Jayfeather thinks its Cinderheart, as not only is she a reincarnation, but directly strayed from Starclans path. Lionblaze thinks its Hollyleaf, she was no longer blinded by the code and had appear right in time to help prepare against the dark forest. Dovewing thinks its Ivypool, whos been helping spy against the dark forest almost since the beginning, and has looked past the code to comfort her sister. Squirrelflight and Leafpool also get thrown around, until Firestar approaches them. Hes listened in on a few of the meetings theyve had, and takes the responsibility of being the fourth cat. Hes a cat from outside the clans, hes seen what the borders can do to the clans, and hes gone against Starclans will before. Starclan owed him too much to smite him.

The final battle goes almost the same, except rather than Starclan cats, Tribe cats help the clans. Thunderclan specifically had helped them when they needed it most, and neither group would exist without the other. Also rather than Spottedleaf saving Sandstorm from Mapleshade, its Jayfeather, who is then saved by Firestar. He earns his grandfathers praise shortly before his death. Snowdrop fights as fiercely as any warrior to protect her clan, ending up saving Mousefur from Brokenstar. Finally, she earns her clanmates respect, and is particularly praised by Mousefur. Mousefur still dies later on from infected injuries, joining Longtail in Starclan. After killing Tigerstar for the final time, Firestar is killed by a falling tree, too weakened to escape. Hes greeted by a plethora of Starclan cats floating down into Thunderclan camp, coming down to apologize and praise the clan cats.

Dovewing and Tigerheart eventually get back together in Avos, Snowdrop and Lionblaze eventually have kittens to replace the CinderLion kits, Jayfeather decides to stay as a medicine cat but participates in warrior duties regularly, mostly with Conderheart as they mourn the loss of Hollyleaf together. Ivypool also mourns Hollyleaf especially, having begun to idolize the she-cat. I don’t actually see Ivypool having kits in this au because shed help take care of Dovewings but you can do whatever you want. Same with Cinderheart, she helped Poppyfrost raise her kits. Alderheart is trained by Leafpool but is greatly influenced by and idolizes Jayfeather, who cusses Starclan out for him. Also i think Dovewing and Tigerheart step in to help Twigkit and Violetkit separately, which leads to them getting back together.

Thunderclan begins down the path of major change, led by Bramblestar and his brief crush on Jessie.

If events are out of order i apologize! This is an au, obviously, and its been awhile since i read the books. I stopped reading at avos. Also sorry for typos i wrote this bery quickly

[iamthemain-character]

hello! may i request something about chekov x reader? maybe the reader wakes up from nightmares and chekov comforts them? thank you have a good day 🫶

thank you for requesting! i am so sorry it’s taken so long, somehow this got lost in my drafts. :( but i hope you enjoy! :)

In My Arms

Pavel Chekov x reader

gender neutral pronouns

TW: nightmares (and possible wrong use of russian)

star trek mastertlist

“My love. My love, wake up!”

Sharply inhaling, your eyes finally open. Petrified with fear, you stay stiff, unable to move any part of your body.

“Любима�� (Beloved), it’s okay, I’m here.”

Finally blinking away the last effects of sleep, you see your partner’s face hovering above you. You realize he has arm wrapped around your torso, the other hand cupping your face. Gently Chekov strokes your cheek with his thumb, offering a small smile in an attempt to comfort you.

You breathe out slowly, finally feeling your body relax as you realize that everything you just went through was all only a nightmare. You blink away the last tears that linger in your eyes, trying to calm your body and mind.

“I’m sorry if I woke you.” You whisper.

Vehemently Chekov shakes his head, laying back down and pulling you close to his chest. “No, none of that, you don’t need to apologize.”

You nod in acceptance, relaxing into Chekov’s warmth and the safety you feel from your lover’s arms around you. You feel his chest rise and fall underneath your head, and you focus on that, grounding yourself as you match his breathing.

“Are you okay?” Chekov asks after a few moments of silence.”

Tilting your neck back to look at him, you nod again. “I’m okay, it was just a nightmare.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Your mind thinks back to the terrors you mentally went through; it had felt so real in the moment, but now it seems so impossible and distant as you relax in your bed with your partner.

“It was just…unsettling. I was lost—I lost you.”

You feel Chelov’s arms tighten around you, pulling you impossibly closer. “I’m right here, I’m not going anywhere, I promise.” He whispers, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

You nestle deeper into your lover’s hold, the comfort of your bed and his warmth and his arms bringing you peace again.

“Will you sing for me?”

You can feel Chekov smile and softly laugh at your request, but nevertheless you hear his gentle voice breaking through the stillness.

“Спи, младенец мой прекрасный, (Sleep, my beautiful good boy,)

Баюшки-баю. (Bayushki bayu)

Тихо смотрит месяц ясный (Quietly the moon is looking)

В колыбель твою. (Into your cradle)

Стану сказывать я сказки, ( I will tell you fairy tales)

Песенку спою; (And sing you little songs,)

Ты ж дремли, закрывши глазки, (But you must slumber, with your little eyes closed,)

Баюшки-баю. (Bayushki bayu)

As you drifted back off to sleep, you knew that with Chekov by your side, you were safe, loved, and would never be alone.

———————————————————————

a/n: if you want to hear a beautiful recording of the lullaby i used, check out this youtube video!

[kanerallels]

Kanera (?), Star Trek AU?

You have no idea how entertaining I (a person who has seen three of the new Chris Pine Star Trek movies about a bazillion years about and never seen one of the shows, but has approximate knowledge of many things via Tumblr) found this ask. Anyways, I did my best lol:

“I’m not sure how I feel about being transferred to another captain,” Kanan muttered as he shifted from foot to foot, waiting for the turbolift to arrive.

Next to him, his friend Dark let out a snort. “You’re telling me. For some reason, I keep getting sent with you whenever they get sick of your shenanigans.”

“Pretty sure that’s your own fault,” Kanan pointed out. “The fact you keep lying on your application forms is probably part of it. I know you want to avoid your dad—”

“And let’s keep it at that,” Dark said, an edge in his voice. Kanan let it go. He knew his friend’s tenuous relationship with his father was that way for a good reason, and he couldn’t blame him.

Turning back to his original subject as the turbolift arrived and they boarded, he mused, “I wonder if we’ll get someone more like Ahsoka’s captain—”

“Captain Skywalker is a lunatic, so let’s hope not,” Dark said vehemently. “Hasn’t he been court martialled again?”

“I’m gonna assume yes,” Kanan said. “Maybe we’ll get someone like Captain Kenobi. Seems like a boring stickler for the rules, but is actually completely insane.”

“Just once,” Dark said as the turbolift came to a stop, letting on another passenger, “I would like a captain who was not insane. As a treat.”

Snorting, Kanan said, “You might be in the wrong business for that, buddy.”

The new passenger laughed, and Kanan’s gaze snapped to her at the melodic sound. She wore command gold, and was stunningly beautiful, with bright green eyes and hair dyed a deeper shade of emerald twisted back into two braids. Lifting an eyebrow at him, she said, “You don’t think that you’ll find a captain who isn’t insane?”

Her voice was even more beautiful than her laugh, and Kanan found himself lost for words. Frowning at him, she said, “You doing okay there?”

“Words fail me.”

“So they do.” The smile she sent him took any sting out of the words, not that he would have minded anyways. “Well, who knows? Maybe you’ll be pleasantly surprised by your new captain, Mr. Jarrus.”

The turbolift came to a stop, and she strode off, Kanan staring after her. “I think I’m in love,” he muttered. “Wait— how did she know who I was?”

He had his answer ten minutes later when he made it onto the bridge of the new ship he’d been assigned to, and the woman from the turbolift was waiting for them.

“Gentlemen,” she said, her voice clear and cool as a stream on a spring morning. “I’m Captain Hera Syndulla. Glad you have you serving here.”

Oh, crap, Kanan thought. I’m so screwed.

[authortobenamedlater]

Could you do Luke and Leia for the character bingo?

Putting these under a cut because they got long;

Luke:

Done dirty by the creators: The sequel trilogy did Luke dirty. I kept thinking there must be some larger reason he exiled himself and there wasn’t. Maybe there will be one retconned someday? It didn’t seem like something he would do unless forced to or to keep others safe. Unlike a lot of fans though I didn’t mind his death but it might have worked better in RoS.

The popular ships suck: I’ll be honest about my biases: I think MOST popular ships for MOST characters suck. If they don’t suck on their own merits, they often start to suck when they get fanonized (that’s a word. It’s a word now.). The most popular ships for Luke these days are with Ezra Bridger, Mando, and Boba Fett and I just. Do not. Get it. Any of them. Luke and Boba at least had some interaction. Din and Luke exchanged maybe five words before the whole Internet jumped on them and Luke has never had any interaction with Ezra.

There are some ships, a lot really, that may not be my thing but I at least UNDERSTAND. I don’t understand any of the above.

Luke/Mara on the other hand. All about that.

Like him but don’t think about him much: I’ve never read or written much OT Star Wars fanfic, weird since it competes with Star Trek TNG for my first fandom (I’ve never read or written for TNG, either…) so Luke isn’t in the forefront of my mind that often. This is going to change if/when I get deeper into Mandalore’s Reluctant Royals.

Leia:

Done dirty by the creators: Again, sequel trilogy did Leia dirty in the end. I realize some of this was because they lost Carrie Fisher, but it was still dirty and it seemed like the ST wanted to give all the OT characters bad ends. Except Lando.

I thought about also choosing “wasted potential” but it wasn’t really wasted since Carrie didn’t live to RoS.

What’s wrong with her (affectionate): Her whole planet got blown up, her son turned to the dark side in BOTH timelines, her youngest died in the Legends timeline, she and Han separated and had kind of a rocky marriage, she had to listen to her first almost-boyfriend die over the radio (this happens in the Princess of Alderaan book which I heartily recommend), she lost so many MORE friends, her brother went into exile and then died, HER FATHER WAS DARTH VADER. What ISN’T wrong with our princess.

Best character in the work: In a world as big as Star Wars I’m not sure you can pick a “best” character but Leia is up there. Look at everything that happened to her and she just keeps going. She would be totally justified in crawling into a hole but she keeps fighting. And she still has time to do her hair and put on makeup every morning.

Like her but don’t think about her much: Again, not big on OT fanfic so Leia isn’t a character I headcanon on much. She’s going to show up a few times in my MRR series though.

[lifebeyondthesky]

Like the Tide

Love has never been all-consuming. 

It doesn’t come like a tsunami: crashing through the window and drowning me, but retreating as quickly as it came.

It starts slow and creeps up on me, like the lazy tide of the ocean.

Love is calm.

Love is peaceful.

Love is the little voice in the back of my mind that says “I am here, I will protect you, don’t be scared.”

Love tells me that I am safe, and I chose to believe it.

Love has lied, and Love has left, but Love always comes back, like the gentle tide of the ocean.

Love is as protective of my as I am of it; because Love does not come easily.

Love takes time,

Love takes trust,

Love takes all that we are and all that we have and pulls it away, under the surface, for safekeeping.

And so we give Love all that we have and all that we are willingly,

Because we turn around and say Je t’aime and we know that Love is kind.

I do not pretend to understand Love, the quiet tide within me.

But I know that Love is deeper than the ocean, and brighter than the stars, and it is strong within us.

Love is bright laughter and soft smiles,

Love is running down a hill with your hand in mine.

Love is group hugs on the steps and a gentle kiss on the forehead.

Love is lighthearted jabs and friendly banter,

And Love is compliments that are nothing but the truth.

Love is singing along to Billy Joel and talking about books and Star Trek.

Love is when my father tells me about the bicycle race that just finished,

And when my mother shows me the photos that fill the albums of our basement.

Love is my brother taking film photos of the sky and the trees,

And watching my sister find friends who will never let her heart be broken again.

Love is comfortable silence on a crowded bus,

And going to the mall my friend loves because I know she won’t let me get lost.

Love is when you take my hand and smile at me.

Love is when you have no filter late at night and can ramble about anything and everything, because you know I will always be there to listen.

Love is the flashes of my memory as I fall asleep.

And like the tide of the ocean,

Love is constant.

[boldlyvoid]

Amethyst you so much

Summary: Spencer has had a crush on Y/N since she started working at the bau. She only ever works the night shift after a case, handling all the aftermath gracefully. one night, Spencer stays back and they strike up a conversation about rocks, causing their feelings to dig a little deeper.

Warnings: pure fluff, weed mention, hurt/comfort, grief and mourning

Word Count: 6.4K

Read on Ao3

Late nights at the office had become his thing since Gideon left.

He couldn’t bring himself to go home some nights without a game of chess, a cup of coffee, and the ambiance of the post case staff working. He would’ve had no idea about what goes on after they close a case if he didn’t stay behind most nights.

The phone rings almost every 10 minutes, and it’s always answered by the sweetest voice. The fax machine never turns off, and the most beautiful girl in the world is always running around placing papers in different places.

He’s been smitten with her since she started here, 2 years ago. Never seeing much of her since she was switched to the night shift, always wanting to just watch her from afar, never speaking to her unless he needed to.

“Yes, again we are so sorry for the door,” he can hear her voice from the back corner of the room. “Agent Morgan will be paying for that out of his paycheck, don’t worry, Mr. Kennings. We’ll be sure to remember your hotel when we’re in the area again. The FBI has a very generous budget for overnight cases. Of course, you have a good night too.”

She hung the phone up harshly and let out a deep sigh. He turned around to see her face in her arms, resting against the desk. She looked done, completely fed up. He would be too.

She looked up then, noticing that he was making eye contact with her. She awkwardly smiled and waved at him, “sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry,” Spencer replied. “We asked for the key, I should have stopped him from kicking it in.”

She laughed then, walking over to his desk so she didn’t have to yell across the room. She sat on the corner of his desk lightly, “why do you stay every night?”

“Oh, um,” he wasn’t prepared for this. She had never talked to him before. She was barely able to even look at him when she used to place papers on his desk 2 years ago, now she was on his desk.

“I don’t like to bring the work home with me, it’s better to destress here before I go to my apartment,” he answered, half honestly.

She nodded slightly, “I get it. Luckily I go home in the mornings so the sun helps me feel better.”

“Going home in the dark isn’t fun,” she lightly smiled up at her.

“Do you want a coffee or anything?” She asked softly, “seeing as I am still your assistant as long as you’re here?”

He laughed lightly, “I would, but I’d like to join you in the staff room for it?”

“Okay,” she stood, straightening out her shirt as he stood as well.

He held the doors open for her, letting her walk out first, still smiling as she waited in the hall for him. Never being anything less than 1 foot from him for some reason, and he didn’t mind in the slightest.

“Do you like your job?” He asked lightly.

“Oh yeah,” she laughed. “It’s like customer service on crack. Have you ever had to explain to someone why you can’t pay for the cracked foundation after Agent Morgan’s ransacked a place?”

“I honestly never thought of who has to deal with the aftermath,” he awkwardly admitted to her. “I’m so sorry.”

She couldn’t stop laughing as they entered the kitchen, “it’s fine. I never have to apologize on your behalf, it’s everyone else who seems to be reckless. Sometimes I feel like it would be better if I came along to babysit.”

“That would be helpful,” he smiled softly as she entered the staff room.

He watched as she took a new coffee filter out of the cupboard. Emptying the coffee pot with ease, rinsing everything before adding the water and scooping in the grounds. He was mesmerized by how fast she was able to do it, then again it was sort of her job.

“What mug would you like?” She turned to him with a smile that made his heart skip a beat.

“Um, the purple one, if it’s there?”

“You really like purple, huh?” She teased him, standing on her tippy-toes to reach the mug for him.

She placed it on the counter before grabbing a white mug, it had a bumblebee on it, “bee happy” written along the top. It was perfect for her.

“Purple is a stress-reducing colour,” she explained. “When I was a kid my parents painted my room purple so that I’d sleep better.”

“I’ve always been drawn to it.”

She leaned against the counter while the coffee pot started to percolate, “Probably because of your anxiety, coffee doesn’t help that.”

“It’s in my DNA to be like this,” he tried to joke, knowing he succeeded when her smile crept back onto her face.

He was on a mission to keep seeing it.

“For someone who spends a lot of time with dead bodies, creepy places and bad people, you sure are a mousy little thing aren’t you?” She teased him.

“I also love Halloween, go figure.” He’s not sure where the confidence came from, being able to make light-hearted jokes like this was only easy with the team.

Which she technically was a part of. He’s seen her almost every single day for 3 years, slowly being able to get comfortable enough for this very moment.

“What else are you into, outside of here?” She asked honestly, making his heart swell as no one else had ever asked him before.

“Lots of things,” he sighed. “I love to read, I’ll read anything. But mostly I enjoy far-off worlds. Lord of the Rings, Star Trek, Doctor Who, Sherlock mostly.”

“No supernatural?” She gasped. “Sacrilege, honestly. What kind of nerd are you if you don't support supperwholock?”

“That's the show with the monster hunting brothers right?” He tried to recall it to his mind.

She nodded with a pressed-lipped smile, “it’s bad but in a way where I can’t stop watching every Thursday, they just introduced an angel who is pretty gay. Star Trek is cool too, I guess, I was raised by Trekkies.”

“My mom was into Doctor Who.”

“Mamma’s boy,” she teased him slightly, returning her focus to the coffee as she poured the now finished brew into their mugs. “She was nice when she came in that one time, I made her a very sweet coffee just like yours.”

He reached for the sugar then, poring a generous amount into his mug with a grin, “how much do you like?”

“the same amount,” she couldn’t help but laugh. “I hate the taste of coffee, but it keeps me awake.”

He poured the sugar into her mug as she places a spoon in each. Allowing him to stir his own before picking it up finally. Holding the warm ceramic in his hands, it was almost as warm as the feeling in his chest when he looked at her.

He’s felt it for a long time. He’s been caught staring at her by Derek, JJ even tried to get him to give her his number. Which she already had for when she calls him into work in the middle of the night. They knew he had a crush, he did too. He just didn’t know what to do about it.

“Come to my desk, I want to show you something?” She asked softly, avoiding eye contact as she walked towards the door.

He followed, like a lost puppy, all the way back to her desk. It was always neat, he always looked at it when he made his way up the stairs to the briefing room. He could even see it from where he sat at the table sometimes. Always wanting to see her leave in the mornings.

She had a collection of rocks that always changed, he loved the blue one the most but it wasn’t there currently. She had all new ones since the last time he looked.

“Here,” she hands him one. It’s brown and gold, the colours moving and shifting as he turns it with his fingers. The gold running through it like a beautiful wave.

“what’s this for?”

“It’s a Tiger’s eye, for good luck and happiness,” she smiled. “Keep it at your desk and maybe it’ll be easier for you to relax when you come back?”

The butterflies in his chest were swirling then as she looked up at him with pleading eyes. Wanting him to take it, wanting him to feel better. Caring for him.

“Thank you,” he barely whispers, clearing his throat softly. “It’s very nice of you.”

“You’re always nice to me, so,” she shrugged.

They sat down then, he dragged his chair from his desk over to hers. Sitting in close as she explained all the meanings to her rocks. He listened carefully, getting to examine each one as she spoke.

“This one is Jade, it’s for balancing emotions and allowing compassion so I don’t scream at everyone on the phone,” she laughed as she placed one in his hands. Her fingers brushing his palm softly.

It was a beautiful green stone with a thin white line running through it, separating into 3 directions as he flipped it over, “it’s beautiful.”

“I know some people don’t believe in this stuff,” she started to get embarrassed as she placed them all back on the shelf. “But I’ve always thought; if the moon, which is just a rock, can control the water, and humans are 70% water, then who’s to tell me the moon cycles don’t control my emotions and these smaller rocks can’t help problem areas?”

“You’re not wrong,” he shook his head softly as he thought her words over. “People depended on the stars and planets for guidance originally, as well as rocks and herbs for healing, just because it’s outdated doesn’t mean it doesn’t work?”

“Thank you,” she smiled. “No one has ever agreed with me that easily.”

“Anytime you want to talk, I’ll just be over there,” he pointed at his desk. “And I’m a phone call away?” He swallowed sharply at his boldness, trying to stay calm as he awaited her answer.

“I do have your number,” she smiled, reaching out to place her hand on his. “But you should go home, I’m sure you’re chilled out now.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, staring at her hand as they touched. He lightly wrapped his hand around hers, holding it slightly, running his thumb over her knuckles. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“And every day after,” she whispered, tilting her head as she smiled at him.

This was going to be interesting.

—

Penelope was always dragging him out. She would take him shopping, to dinner, to the movies. She was like his big sister, dedicated to making sure he wasn’t always cooped up or trying to retreat into a fantasy life.

She kept him busy.

She had 4 bags in her hands as they walked down the street, peering into the store windows to see what else she could possibly be interested in taking home for someone. That’s when they passed the natural health store.

He stopped in his tracks, seeing all the different rocks on the wall accompanies by little cards that described how they could help. He opened the door and rushed inside before Penelope even noticed he stopped following her.

“Good afternoon!” The shop owner called out to him. “How can I assist you today?”

“Um, the girl I like has a rock collection,” he says softly, knowing Penelope is behind him listening. “Crystals more specifically, I’d like to get her some?”

“Well, you came to the right place,” the man beams, escorting him to the wall of rocks. “What is she like?”

“Wonderful,” the words are carried out of his mouth on a sigh as he thinks about her. “She’s confident and nice, and caring. She’s always positive and just so lovely.”

“I’ve got you,” the man starts picking rocks off the wall and placing them in his hands.

Spencer follows him to the desk where he lays down a handful of rocks, Penelope is shockingly quiet as she stands beside him, staring at the collection. She’ll be full of questions later, all of which he is terrified of.

“This is a rose quartz, pretty basic love, beauty, anti-depression stone,” he pushes the pink and a green rock towards him. “Serpentine is for new adventures, observation and insight. I have a feeling you’re up for an adventure with her?”

Spencer nodded enthusiastically, “I like that one. It would be better to get her some rare ones, some that have to do with friendship, new beginnings, or opportunities?” He tried to explain his feelings as best as he could. Not knowing if he sounded dumb for a change.

The man smiled wide, “here,” he dipped below the counter and dug out a box. “Chrysocolla is literally for new beginnings, love and opportunity.”

He hands Spencer a vitreous, raw blue stone with small green marks running all through it, it’s beautiful like her. “This is perfect.”

“I’ll throw in a Kiwi Jasper as well, it’s for being by someone's side, support and trust. As well as a Ruby in Zoisite it symbolizes finding the joy in life with someone,” he hands Spencer two equally beautiful stones, prepping a bag and wrappings for all of them.

Spencer lays out the 5 stones he picked out, watching him wrap them with care before placing them in a bag. He rings everything up, Spencer pays and before he’s even out the door Penelope is pouncing on him for answers.

“Who?!”

He can't help but blush and stutter, trying to brush past her and continue walking down the street. “You can’t hide forever Spencer, who is she?”

“How do you know it’s a she?”

“You literally said so?” She looks at him like he’s an idiot. “Come on? I won't tell anyone!”

“Y/N.”

The gears are turning in Penelope's head as she tries to place a face to the name, knowing she’s seen her somewhere, “From the office?”

He nods softly, “the one Derek bullies me for staring at?” He clues her in more as they walk.

“He also bullies her for staring at you,” she adds with a smile. “She’s going to love those, when are you going to give them to her?”

“I was thinking about just leaving one on her desk every day? Maybe with a note for why I picked it?” He really wants to woo her, she’s too special to just flirt with.

“She’s going to love that.”

—

Sure enough, he walked into work every day for the next week, placing a rock on a sticky note on her desk. He was never around when she was able to see it, only knowing she got it when he'd arrive at work the next morning with a note reading 'thank you ♥︎ ' on top of his files.

He thinks about her all weekend, planning how he'll give her the last rock as he takes the elevator up that morning. Only to see her sitting at her desk, phone pressed to her ear as she tried to talk someone out of suing the FBI, she looked absolutely miserable. Just a casual Monday morning for her, almost at the end of her shift.

He rushed over to his desk, putting all his stuff down to dig one of the rocks from his satchel. Picking the Kiwi Jasper for today, he grabbed a pen and a sticky note and wrote her a little note.

“Always here if you need to talk, -Spencer ♥︎”

He walked over to her desk, she was still talking so she didn’t notice him until he was right there, she looked up at him with a thankful smile.

“Yes sir,” she answered the person talking to her. “Can I call you back after I speak to the chief? thanks.” She hung up on him, turning all her attention to Spencer.

“I know you know it's been me leaving these, but I brought you in another one,” he says softly, placing the rock in her hand and sticking the note to the shelf where it would end up.

“oh my gosh, Spencer?” She placed her free hand on her heart as she looked at the rock.

“You looked upset?”

She stands and pulls him into a hug, he can feel all the eyes on him as he holds her back, letting his chin rest on her shoulder as she squeezes him.

“Thank you,” she whispered as she pulled back, awkwardly smiling at him as she also noticed everyone staring.

“Always,” he smiled back, hand still resting on her arm. “Um, I have a case I need to get to.”

“Of course, good luck,” she smiled.

He pulls the tiger's eye out of his shirt pocket, showing her that he still had it, “kinda hard not to have good luck with this.”

She bit back a smile, her eyes gleaming as she took a deep breath through her nose. Releasing the same feelings he was keeping inside, allowing both their butterflies to swarm out together.

—

He loved when they had cases in Virginia. Being able to stay in the bullpen and work was relaxing, it was easier to think where he felt safe.

He was working on the geo profile all alone, a huge map stretched across a clear case board as he laid a yardstick across it. Drawing a thick red line with marker over it, in his own little world as he worked away.

He doesn’t realize she’s standing there too until she’s lightly pressing her hand on his back.

“Hey,” she whispers softly. “It’s 10 pm, thought you’d like a coffee?” She places the purple mug on his desk with her purse, turning her attention back to what he’s doing.

“Thank you, I’m almost done here,” he says softly, finishing the red triangle he was making on the map.

“I’ve always found it fascinating how you do this,” she complimented him. “You’re so careful.”

“Like baking, it’s an exact science,” he smiled softly.

It made her giggle slightly, placing her hand back on his back as she moved in closer to look. He wanted her to stay there forever, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to focus. He tried his best to steady his hand as he finished the line.

Putting the yardstick back down and turning to her, she doesn’t move her hand, instead, softly moving to rest on his arm as she stands close to him. “How are you?”

He feels nervous for some reason, it’s not like she hasn’t been this close to him before. It’s just that she’s close and she smells wonderful and he wonders if her lips would be a better wake-up call than the coffee she brought.

He realizes he’s staring at her lips when he licks his own, “I’m good,” he furrows his brow and clears his throat with a nod.

She smirks at him, “how come you’re the only one still here? Hotch said it could wait till tomorrow?”

“I was waiting for you,” he admits, “but I got carried away setting this up, I never heard you come in?”

“Cause I didn’t,” she scrunches her nose slightly as she straightens her stance. “I saw you working hard and went right to get you a coffee.”

“You’re wonderful,” he blushes as the words slip out, trying his best to keep eye contact when all he wants to do is kiss her.

She pats his arm slightly as she backs up a little, grabbing her bag from where she set it on his desk. “I’m going to set up for the night, come talk to me before you leave?”

“Of course,” he says as she walks away, letting out a small sigh as he realizes just how badly he wants her.

He never gets to talk to her before he leaves, she’s on the phone when hotch comes storming in. Saying something about another body and making Reid leave with him. He’s busy for 3 days straight, thinking about her with every free thought he’s able to squeeze in.

He carries the rock from her in his pocket everywhere he goes; in his pants beside his keys, in his bag with his books, in his breast pocket, over his heart, behind a bulletproof vest. Feeling it press against his chest, a part of her keeping him safe where ever he went.

They finish the case with minimal damage, Spencer specifically making sure that Derek leaves all the doors on the hinges for Y/N’s sake, cleaning up any messes they make so she won’t have to hear about it over the phone. They all notice that he’s doing it for her, quietly appreciating the fact that Spencer is happy for a change, that there’s a glimmer of hope in his eyes again.

He arrives back at Quantico 30 minutes before her shift starts. Everyone else is packing up for the day while he sits at his desk, reading to occupy the time before she comes in.

Only she doesn’t.

30 minutes pass and she’s nowhere to be seen, it’s only 9:02 by the time he starts to panic. Wondering if she’s okay, hoping she’s just in the elevator or grabbing a coffee that’s actually good, somewhere outside of the office.

“Reid,” he hears Hotch calling him from his office door. “She just called in, her grandmother passed away last night so she won't be in.”

“Oh,” he furrows his brow, looking at him with confusion. “How did you know?”

“Penelope,” he smiles. “She’s still here too, and she knows where Y/N lives.”

“It wouldn’t be weird to go see if she’s okay?”

Hotch just smiles at him again, “go see her, Reid.”

Getting her address from Penelope felt a little weird, but she writes it on a sticky note for him and he’s out the door before she can even pry into what he’s going to say. Which is good, because he doesn’t know yet.

It’s late, but he stops by the little rock store on his way to her house. Seeing the lights still on and the same man from before behind the counter.

“Welcome back,” he’s overly cheerful for it being so late. “How did she like them?”

“She likes the ones I’ve given her so far,” he smiles, looking over the wall himself this time for the right one.

Scanning past every emotion and affirmation known to man as he looked around, picking out a beautiful pink Rhodonite for healing grief, supposedly acting as a hug from emotional troubles. And a Rainbow Moonstone for inner peace, harmony and strength.

“She’s lost someone recently?�� He asks as Spencer places them on the counter.

“Her grandmother,” he says softly. “These are good, right?”

“They’ll be perfect, we also have amethyst bracelets, they’re good for healing and drawing in positive energy,” he points towards the small display of bracelets. Small purple stones separated with small gold beads.

He picks up 2 of them, placing them on the counter as well.

“Is she still just a crush?”

Spencer laughs lightly, “unfortunately.”

“She might be more after this,” he smirks, ringing him up. “I’ll give you a 2 for one deal on everything, I have a feeling you’ll be in a lot.”

Spencer thanks him as he pays, picking out a small purple bag for the rocks and bracelet. Placing one on his own wrist before leaving. Also picking up some cookie dough ice cream and a card at the corner store just beside her apartment. Remembering all the times Penelope, JJ or Emily has mentioned it being the best ice cream for crying.

He takes a very deep breath before knocking on her door, hoping to every god out there that she doesn’t find this incredibly inappropriate and weird.

“Spencer?” He hears her voice before she even opens the door, looking out the peephole at him.

She whips the door open, eyes puffy and swollen as she looks at him in shock. She’s in a big sweater and shorts, tears dripping down her cheeks as she shakes her head at him.

“I thought you could use some cheering up?” He awkwardly smiles, holding the ice cream up for her to see.

She wraps her arms around his middle, burying her face against his coat. Still crying as she holds him, he holds her with his free hand, shushing her as he presses his cheek to her head.

She pulls back with a sniffle, “come in,” she offers with an arm out, ushering him inside the small room as she closes the door.

He takes his shoes off, handing her the ice cream so he can take off his coat and satchel too. “This isn’t weird right?”

“Not at all,” she laughs slightly through the awkwardness. “You don’t know how much it means to me that you care this much.”

“I brought something for you,” he says as he struggles to dig everything out of his pocket.

He hands her the card and the little purple bag, seeing the overwhelming glance grow on her face. Her eyes grew wide as he mouth opened, speechless.

She opened the card first, reading the passage about grief that was already provided. Dealing with grief was something Spencer knew too well, adding something a little special to the bottom of the card.

“To live in hearts we left behind is not to die,” -Thomas Campbell. As long as you remember her, with a smile on your face and love in your heart, she will always be with you ♥︎ Spencer

She wipes her tears with her forearm, placing the card on the counter beside the ice cream before she opens the bag. She pulls out the bracelet first, absolute shock on her face.

“Spencer?” Is all she can say, in a high squeak as she shakes her head at him.

“I didn’t want you to be sad,” he says softly, stepping into her space and placing a hand on her arm. “I love seeing you smile, and I thought this could help.

He takes the bracelet from her grasp and places it over her hand. Resting it on her wrist softly, straightening it out against her sweater as she notices the matching on over his shirt sleeve.

“Oh this is so cute,” she swoons. “thank you, really Spencer.”

“And there are some rocks for grief healing in there too, one is supposedly like an emotional hug which should heal the grief and sorrow, and the other is more for inner peace and harmony,” he rambles away, not wanting her to miss anything.

She pours the rocks from the bag, into her hand, looking them over silently with a smile, “they’ll look great on my desk.”

“The purple looks nice on you too,” he compliments her, watching her eyes drift up to him.

She places the rocks on the counter before wrapping her arms around him once more. This time he’s able to actually hold her back, tight as possible as he rubs his hand over her back.

She smells like home, clean laundry and happiness. She’s soft and warm, he holds her perfectly against his chest, like she was a missing puzzle piece that someone finally found under the table, she fits into his life like she was supposed to be there.

She kisses his cheek softly before she pulls back, causing him to pull her into a real kiss on impulse. Connecting their lips as she sighs into the contact, melting into his grasp as she kisses him back.

Her lips are soft, fitting between his own gently as she breathes him in. Her hands reach up to grip his cheeks, kissing him again and again, placing pecks to his lips and cheeks with her eyes closed as he giggles.

“Thank you,” she whispers against his lips, “for everything.”

“I’d do anything for you,” he whispers back, kissing her one last time before she pulls away.

“I was actually about to smoke some weed on the fire escape and probably cry some more,” she laughs lightly. “would you like to join me?”

“I’ll stick with a bowl of ice cream,” he smiled awkwardly.

“Nice one,” she laughs as she opens the ice cream.

“What?”

“Oh, you didn’t even get the reference you made,” she laughs lightly, “to get high you smoke a bowl, so…”

It makes him smile, “I'm a comedian part-time.”

He makes her laugh again, loving the sound of her giggle replacing the tears. “Why aren’t you this funny at work?”

He thinks about it for a little, watching her scoop the ice cream into two bowls, “it’s a little hard to make jokes when people's lives are on the line, I know everyone else does but I get too focused.”

“They probably wouldn’t appreciate your jokes even if you did make them,” she says as she handed him a bowl with a spoon. “They’re kind of mean to you, in a family way but it still sucks sometimes to overhear.”

She walks into the living area then, grabbing a few blankets and opening the window to the fire escape. Crawling out to sit on the ledge, waiting for him.

“I don’t mind it,” he says as he finally sits down beside her.

She places the blanket over their laps, both of them sitting criss-cross applesauce as they ate.

“Do you like your job?” She asks him, just like he once asked her.

“Most of the time,” he nodded as he got brain freeze. The cold air, the cold ice cream, everything that was catching up to him as he scrunched his face up at the feeling.

She laughs at him only a bit before she’s also attacked by the brain freeze, holding the vein in her neck as she chokes out another laugh, trying to warm up the blood going to her head so the pain would stop.

They’re both just a mess of giggles together, unable to say any words as they let it all out. She leans her head on his shoulder lightly as they calm down to just soft chuckles. He presses his cheek against her head.

“Thank you, Spencer,” it sounds like she’s crying a bit. “My grandma was a lovely woman, she’d be glad I’m laughing right now.”

He reached out a hand for her to hold over the blanket. She interlocked their fingers softly, both cold from holding their ice cream bowls.

“If she was anything like you, I’m sure she was the most wonderful woman,” he says softly, not intending to make her cry but having a feeling he might.

“Would you be interested in holding me on the couch while I cry?” She asked softly, tears in her eyes as she looked up at him.

“Whatever you need, I’m here for you.”

—

He’s late for work the next morning.

Waking up to the smell of coffee, opening his eyes to a strange view. He’s on a couch he doesn’t recognize in a room he doesn’t know too well.

Then he remembers, they ended up cuddled up on the couch. He wakes up to the memory of her on his chest, crying softly as they listened to some music, he ran his hand over her back while she went through it all, blessed to have his support.

He fell asleep under her at some point, waking up alone with a blanket laid over him. He sat up to see her in the kitchen, pouring coffee into a travel mug.

“Good, you’re awake,” she smiles at him. “Coffee is ready, I uh, I have this button-up shirt from a guy friend, if you wanted to wear that to work today? So they don’t think you stayed here?”

“That’s smart,” he replies as he rubs the sleep out of his eyes.

Getting up, he uses the bathroom, changes and takes that coffee from her. He’s not expecting her to kiss him on the lips at the door, but she sends him off to work like an old housewife.

He doesn’t want to pull away from her, keeping her pressed against him as he leans in for 4 more kisses before she finally pushes him out into the hallway with a laugh, “get to work!”

“Fine,” he sighs, “are you going to be in tonight?”

“Yeah,” she smiles, “funeral is in West Virginia next week, so I’ll be in until then.”

“I’ll see you later?”

She nods slightly with a soft smile, “you’ll be seeing a lot of me soon, Spencer.”

“Good,” he winks at her before heading down the hallway and towards the street entrance.

He sighs as he walks outside, resting his back against the apartment complex door, taking a moment to think about everything that just happened, the night of company and the wonderful send-off.

It was something he could get used to.

He rushes into the briefing room when he arrives at Quantico, sitting down with his coffee and pretending he wasn’t late. Listening carefully to JJ’s presentation of the case as he flips through everything he missed already.

“Wheels up in 30,” he heard Hotch say as he zoned back in. “Nice of you to join us, Reid.”

“I know that travel mug from somewhere,” Derek said as he stared at Spencer, who was taking a sip to avoid the awkwardness.

“Hmm?” He played dumb.

“That’s Y/N’s. She washes it every morning when she leaves to go home, I see her do it every morning,” his eyes open wide. “Holy shit.”

“Isn’t that the same tie and slacks from yesterday?” Emily teased him as well.

“Her grandma died, I brought her ice cream and slept on the couch okay?” He all but yelled, flailing his arms slightly so they’d all back off.

Derek reached his fist out for him to pound it, “good man.”

Then Penelope noticed the bracelet, “did she get you that?”

He sunk his hand into his pocket then, “no.”

“What?” Emily and JJ asked in unison, straining their necks to try and get a good look at what she was talking about.

He nervously held his arm out for them, showing them the purple bracelet resting over the sleeve of his shirt. “I got one for her too, it’s for healing and peace. It’s what she needs right now.”

“Oh, so you love her,” Derek smiles as he teases him. Making everyone else in the room swoon slightly.

“Okay and?”

“Oh my god!” Most of them shout at him, embarrassing him to no end. He was so glad she wasn’t at work this morning or else she would be able to hear this from her desk.

“Did you kiss her?” Rossi pries, asking what everyone else was thinking.

He scrunches his face, pushing his glasses up slightly as he clears his throat, “a few times.”

“Is she your girlfriend?” JJ kept the questions coming.

“Not yet,” he said softly. “Kinda weird to walk into her apartment while she cries to say ‘hey sorry about the death in your family, want to date me?’”

“Yeah,” Emily agrees, shrugging lightly. “At least she knows you like her now, it’s been what? 2 years?”

“2 years, 3 months, 17 days and 43 minutes,” he confirms with a small nod and pressed lips.

“Gross,” Derek teases him.

“The plane is leaving in 10 minutes,” Hotch cut into their fun.

Making them all gather their things and continue the interrogation in the elevator, and eventually on the plane, and in the police precinct. Even Penelope called him in the middle of everything to bug him about her.

The questions were never-ending, everyone wanted to know how they even started talking, who made the first move, how he plans to ask her out. They were relentless, he almost regretted admitting to anything.

They bug him all throughout the day, all the way until they’re arriving back at the BAU late that same night. He almost doesn’t want to go back to the bullpen and see her with all of them, knowing they were going to follow and say something.

She’s waiting in the hall when the elevator doors open, a pressed-lipped smile on her face, “bad news.”

“Another one?” Hotch sighs, “have Garcia send us the info. Be at the table in 10.” He pushes his way out of the elevator, passed them all as they stare at Y/N.

“Hi?” She awkwardly waves at them all, showing off the bracelet on her wrist.

“See ya, Spence,” JJ and Emily say as they matt his shoulder, dragging Derek and Rossi towards the bullpen doors.

“Sorry,” he apologizes for them softly, stepping into her space.

She wraps him up in a quick hug, keeping one arm around his waist as she guides him towards the bullpen, “it’s fine, they’re going to have to get used to us being together.”

“Together?” He repeats her words.

“I only cry on my boyfriend's shoulders, if you're up for the title?” She teases him softly, pinching his side as they walk towards the doors.

“Can I frame “Dr. Spencer Reid, Y/N’s boyfriend” beside my Ph.D.’s?” He keeps his hand on her shoulder, holding each other slightly as they walk towards her desk. He felt like one of those kids who wouldn’t let go of their girlfriend's hand in the school hallway, attached to her at the hip.

“I’ll make one for you while you’re gone,” she laughs lightly.

They stop at her desk where he sees all rocks he got her collecting on the shelf, as well as a cup of coffee and his favourite kind of donut.

“Thought you deserved something nice too,” she says as she nudges his side.

He kisses her on the cheek as a thank you, “you’re welcome,” she smiles to herself. A feeling of pride growing in both their chests.

“See you later?” He asks as he picks up the coffee and donut, walking away slowly as she smiles at him.

“Come home to me safely, Doctor Reid,” her voice is just loud enough for everyone in the briefing room, where everyone is waiting at the window, watching them, deciding to put on a show in return.

He stops on the steps to look at her softly, “I’d fight a thousand unsubs to come home to you.”

“I’ll leave the light on,” she blows a kiss at him, making him blush a deep red.

He waves, making his way up the steps and into the briefing room. A smile on his face, heart thumping in his chest, all the support in the world swarming around him as everyone patted him on the back.

That tiger’s eye really did bring him good luck and happiness, and her name was Y/N.

[doctorwhoexpandeduniverseprompts]

Doctor Who Minific / Prompt : Never Alone, Old Girl.

A Companion goes for a midnight stroll through the TARDIS corridors to try and tire themselves out after their memories of latest adventure with the Doctor wake them up with a nightmare, too wired to go back to sleep from all the adrenaline in their system.

They start wandering the corridors.... take a wrong turn on the way to the kitchen... And promptly get lost.

As they wander deeper and deeper into the unused corridors of the TARDIS, each new hallway turns the lights on automatically for them, but are otherwise dark.

Until they finally keep walking and discover a corridor with the lights on.

And voices ahead.

-------------------------

Curious and cautious in equal terms, the Companion creeps around the corner, wondering if some people wandered in and got lost in the TARDIS, if the Doctor has other friends with him that he forgot to mention, or, more worryingly, if an enemy has snuck aboard the TARDIS and is planning a strike from the inside.

The companion comes around the corner and discovers.... Another library.

And it is full of strangers.

Old men in dinner jackets and cravats and bowties and giant scarves are playing what looks to be a 20-level, multiplayer game of 4D chess from Star Trek at the central table.

Around them, older men and women are reading or talking or playing games with a collection of younger people, all of them in a diverse range of hair styles and clothing fashions-- from old fashioned to glamorous to downright bizarre.

One man is wearing what could have been a believable clown costume and cat pins, while another appears to be a walking Progress Pride flag great coat, with different nonbinary flags marking each sleeve and pant leg.

There's dozens and dozens of people in the room, all laughing and joking and interacting, and even as the companion watches more people filter in and out, wandering down other lit corridors as a casual pace, or running in bathing suits, shrieking in laughter as they charge into a room that is scented with sea salt even from far away, ignoring one of the women that shout after them "No running around the pool! You don't want to end up like me, do you?"

"Romana, come now. They can come to no harm, you know that." Another figure with purple sunglasses says, wearing a bright yellow rain jacket that crinkles as -- Xe, the companion notes from their pronoun pin-- lays a hand on Romana's shoulder.

Romana sniffed and crossed her arms. "It's the principal of the matter."

The Companion's jaw is slack, staring at all these people just lounging around and playing as though they own the place.

Who are these people and what on earth are they doing here?

"Well hello there, my young companion, I see you have found my friends." An old-fashioned, enunciated man's voice says from beside the Companion and they whirl around-- to see a figure made of blue light standing beside them.

"Who are you!?" The Companion demands, jerking back, wondering if they need to run from this strange being.

The figure laughs, "Don't you recognize me? Come now, think about it for just a moment..."

The Companion stares at the blue figure and then glances at the room full of people, some of which has turned their gaze in them, smiling in their direction or giving little waves when their eyes make contact.

They... All did seem familiar. In a strange way. As though they were people they had onced loved, and simply forgotten.

There's a presence in their mind, a slight hum that they never really paid attention to, but it was only ever present when in ...

"You're the TARDIS." Companion realizes.

"I am Indeed." The TARDIS agrees, reaching out a hand to shake, which the Companion excepts with a small tingle of static shock. "And do you know who those people are in that room?" The TARDIS asks leadingly, pointing into the room.

The Companion looks at the people again. All the men, women, children, and in between, the ones most oddly dressed all seeming familiar in a strange way.

"They're the Doctor." The Companion realizes. "And their compaions. From the past."

"And Future." The TARDIS says, a smile evident in her voice. "Time, you will find it, is rather transcendental for us TARDISes."

"But why are they here? How?" Compaion wonders. The TARDIS gently shoos them into the room full of Doctors and Companions, and quite a number of them all rush over to greet them, introducing themselves.

"I always program a senti hologram of my current self into the TARDIS databanks in case something ever goes very very wrong." A man with close cropped hair and big ears explained, "That way they can explain what's happening to whatever friends I have with me at the time and the TARDIS will fly herself to their home and time, and can act as a medium between my friends and the TARDIS, since she can't usually communicate directly "

"But...." Companion turns to look at the blue TARDIS figure. "she's talking right now."

"That is because we are much closer to the power left behind by the anti-time Casket of Zagreus."

A beautiful man with long curly hair jogged over, fidgeting with slight abashment with his velvet frock coat as he explained, "Time and Anti-Time meeting like that doesn't just explode once, it is always exploding, and always was. And never did and never was. It's a paradox of the highest order, and it's an incredible source of eternal power, even if the range is rather short." He smiled apologetically.

"Yes, the TARDIS is able to use that power source to manifest the most complete imprints of us that she has, but it's only here, in the deepest depths of the TARDIS that we can form, it doesn't extend far enough for us to go to the main or auxiliary console rooms." A young woman with blonde hair said, standing next to the frock-coated Doctor and grabbing his hand with a smile.

"But..." Companion says slowly, trying not to be tactless, "Don't you... Ever get bored? Stuck in here all day?"

Everyone in earshot laughs.

"My dear child, how could we ever be something as mundane as 'bored'? The power from the Casket is infinite. We have entire universe here for us to explore, all of our loved ones that have ever visited the TARDIS are here, and we have eternity with our loved ones, knowing they will always be safe and here with us." The oldest man there said, where he was seated still at the chess table, "And best of all, no more creaky, old knees." He laughed. "I can give Ian a run for his money now."

"Yes Grandfather, we know. You beat him in a footrace just yesterday, remember?" A young girl with short black hair and black eyes reminded him, giggling at his smug expression, which fell slightly as the girl continued "And Barbara beat both of you!"

Companion looked around at all of the smiling, laughing people, the oddest-dressed amongst them having an odd familiarity to them, as through they were dear old friends, forgotten, just waiting to meet again and make new memories.

"Will I end up here one day?" Companion wondered.

There was a streak of silver and blue light, and Companion watched as a young person in a high-tech wheelchair zoomed through the room led by a robotic dog, and chasing behind them, cheering and laughing, was a large group of young people, all whopping and hollaring--

And amongst the crowd was a voice both familar and alien, uncanny, and Companion got a brief glimpse of their own face amongst the crowd, a little older, a little more confident, and grinning so broadly in joy that Companion's own face hurt in sympathy.

"You always have been." The TARDIS said, an her voice was full of warmth and affection.

[avatar-news]

Avatar Studios masterpost!

Here’s absolutely everything there is to know about the big Avatar news from today’s ViacomCBS Paramount+ Streaming Event and investor day!

Summary of facts

Avatar Studios is a new studio at Nickelodeon. Avatar: The Last Airbender and The Legend of Korra co-creators and showrunners Bryan Konietzko and Michael Dante DiMartino are the co-Chief Creative Officers of Avatar Studios.

Avatar Studios will create original movies, series, and shorts set in the world of Avatar.

The first project is an animated theatrical film set to start production later this year.

One or more Avatar Studios Paramount+ Original Series will be among the 50 original shows coming to Paramount+ in its first two years.

The above image has been included in many articles and official social media posts. It’s presumably the current official logo of Avatar Studios.

That is a distilled list of the cold, hard facts from the whirlwind of news that has come out today, from many different sources. With that out of the way, the rest of this post will delve deeper into everything we’ve learned, including full-length quotes from the people involved.

Today’s event

Today, ViacomCBS (the company that owns Nickelodeon, and thus Avatar) held their “Streaming Event” and investor day. ViacomCBS is launching their big streaming service, Paramount+, on March 4th. It’s a rebrand and relaunch of their current streaming service, CBS All Access. Paramount+ is meant to be their big push to compete in the streaming wars with Disney’s Disney+, Hulu, and ESPN+; WarnerMedia’s HBO Max; NBCUniversal’s Peacock; Apple’s Apple TV+; and, yes, Netflix’s Netflix by Netflix in collaboration with Netflix.

Avatar: The Last Airbender and The Legend of Korra are already on CBS All Access in full, and they, like all the rest of the content on the service, will automatically transfer over to Paramount+. (Currently we know absolutely nothing about when or if either show will leave Netflix. They’re currently on both Netflix and CBS All Access, so it’s possible they’ll remain on both Netflix and Paramount+ for some time.)

Here’s my livetweet thread from today’s event. Below, I’ll cover the notable stuff:

The first big mention of Avatar was when it was called out by the CEO as one of the ViacomCBS properties that were big hits on other streaming services last year.

It’s notable that it was mentioned among a list of exclusively adult, live-action series.

This is totally in line with the earlier stuff where the CEO mentioned it as having potential for Paramount+ original content.

The presentation also included something along the lines of: if you helped make one of our properties popular on another streaming service, there’s a good chance originals will be coming to Paramount+.

Basically, they saw how huge Avatar was on Netflix last year, and that visibility was up to the highest levels of the company.

And of course, finally they announced the creation of Avatar Studios. This was actually a few minutes after the news went up officially online, so at that point I lost track of the stream as I covered the news. But, I do know they didn’t show/announce anything else in the event besides the news that went up online.

Official quotes/statements

Here are the official quotes about Avatar Studios sent out today:

Joint official statement from Bryke:

“It’s hard to believe it’s been 19 years since we created Avatar: The Last Airbender. But even after all that time, there are still many stories and time periods in Aang’s world that we are eager to bring to life. We are fortunate to have an ever-growing community of passionate fans that enjoys exploring the Avatarverse as much as we do. And with this new Avatar Studios venture we have an unparalleled opportunity to develop our franchise and its storytelling on a vast scale, in myriad exciting ways and mediums. We are exceedingly grateful to Brian Robbins and Ramsey Naito for their enthusiasm and respect for the Avatar property and us as its stewards. From the start, they’ve supported our ambitious plans and created a positive, proactive environment for us. We’re excited to be back at Nickelodeon where Avatar began, doing what we do best in the biggest way possible. We can’t wait to build the great teams and productions to make all of this fantasy a reality.”

via Entertainment Weekly

Bryan on his Instagram and Tumblr:

“Bryke is back at Nickelodeon in a big way. ⚡️💙⬇️💙⚡️ Mike and I are heading up a new studio dedicated to expanding the Avatarverse.”

Mike on his Instagram:

“BIG announcement! @bryankonietzko and I are returning to #Nickelodeon as co-chief creative officers of Avatar Studios to develop new animated projects in the #avatarverse and oversee the franchise. Couldn't be more excited and inspired!”

Brian Robbins:

“Avatar: The Last Airbender and Korra have grown at least ten-fold in popularity since their original hit runs on Nickelodeon, and Ramsey Naito and I are incredibly excited to have Mike and Bryan’s genius talent on board to helm a studio devoted to expanding their characters and world into new content and formats for fans everywhere. Creator-driven stories and characters have long been the hallmarks of Nickelodeon, and Avatar Studios is a way to give Mike and Bryan the resources and runway to open up their imaginations even more and dive deeper into the action and mythology of Avatar as we simultaneously expand upon that world and the world of content available on Paramount+ and Nickelodeon.”

via Deadline

Brian Robbins was referred to as the president of Nickelodeon on Entertainment Weekly, and “President, ViacomCBS Kids & Family” on Deadline. Ramsey Naito is the president of Nickelodeon Animation.

Press release

The post-event ViacomCBS press release mentioned Avatar in two places:

First, right up at the top:

“Over 50 original series to premiere on Paramount+ over next two years, including Halo, Frasier, Criminal Minds, iCarly, The Real World, Grease: Rise of the Pink Ladies, shows from the Avatar, Yellowstone, Star Trek and SpongeBob SquarePants universes and more”

The wording makes it unclear if it will be multiple shows from each of the final four franchises mentioned, or if it’s plural because it’s listing multiple franchises. It’s talking about the first two years specifically, so it’s likely that in that timeframe only one Avatar show would be ready, but in general it’s basically guaranteed that there will be multiple in the coming years.

The second place it’s mentioned is in the “Expansive Slate of Upcoming Paramount+ Original Series” - “Kids & Family” section:

“Avatar – Nickelodeon’s new animation studio division dedicated entirely to creating content based on the wildly popular world of Avatar: The Last Airbender and The Legend of Korra. Led by the series’ original creators Mike DiMartino and Bryan Konietzko, in partnership with the Nickelodeon Animation Studio, Avatar Studios will produce for Paramount+ a wide-range of Avatar-inspired content, ranging from spinoffs and theatricals to short form.”

Info from news

Across the many news sources today (sites, social media, etc.) this info has sort of coalesced:

What is Avatar Studios?

It has been referred to as a studio, a venture, a division of Nickelodeon, an animation studio division, etc. etc. etc.

As far as we know, it’s not an animation production studio and so doesn’t employ animators who draw the frames of animation themselves.

What does Avatar Studios make?

The various sources have said they’re making series, movies, and short-form stuff. The first two are pretty self-explanatory. The third, shorts, remains to be seen what it is. I could honestly see official TikTok videos or something, but that’s just my speculation. 😂

Right now it has been said that Avatar Studios will be making Avatar stuff only. Various wordings like “based on” and “Avatar-inspired” and “in the Avatarverse” have been used.

The question of live-action has arisen. Some places, including Mike’s post, specifically say animation, while Bryke’s official statement also says “myriad [...] mediums”. It’s highly likely there will be both animation and live-action at some point. Currently it’s probably animation-focused, with the first project being an animated movie.

Where will Avatar Studios content come out?

Another case where there have been various wordings used throughout the different news sources.

It has been said that Avatar Studios’ content will be made for Paramount+, Nickelodeon’s “linear” (meaning old-fashioned live TV) and digital outlets, third parties, and theaters.

Paramount+ is self-explanatory, that would be Paramount+ Originals streaming exclusively on Paramount+.

Nickelodeon complicates things a bit. I find it a little hard to believe that within a few years, new Avatar shows specifically for Nick’s TV channel will start being made. It’s possible statements to this effect are indicating the content will also end up aired on TV. ViacomCBS’s Star Trek universe’s first Nick show will be taking that route: first on Paramount+ and then later airing on TV on Nick, so I’m guessing something similar could be the case here. As for Nick’s digital side, they have episodes to watch on their website and apps, so I’m guessing that’s what that refers to-- I wouldn’t read into it too much. Nick itself is one of the sections on Paramount+, which also just makes my head spin a bit more.

Mention of third parties is also a little weird at first. ViacomCBS does double-dip a lot, so maybe Avatar Studios will also end up making shows for, like, Netflix and others, but it just seems like a weird business decision when they just announced Paramount+. One thing this could be referring to is potentially other mediums like books and games, for which it would make sense to be for other companies.

Lastly, theatrical. In their movies strategy, ViacomCBS announced that Paramount movies like the Mission: Impossible franchise will still be in theaters, but go to Paramount+ exclusively after a reduced 30-to-45-day theatrical window. (Some movies will also have the regular window, also a little confusing.) Some movies will also just be Paramount+ Originals in the first place, like the newest SpongeBob movie. Avatar Studios’ first project has been exclusively called a theatrical animated film. This seems to suggest that it will be in theaters at first, then a Paramount+ Original shortly after (probably the shortest, 30-day window if I were to guess). This is interesting because if it’s theatrical, that could suggest a big budget, especially if this is their first project they intend to make an impressive splash with. It could also potentially suggest 3D/CGI animation rather than 2D, but I personally don’t find that super likely. However, it could mean fancier 2D animation than we’re used to, and that’s saying a lot because we’re used to some pretty good animation from the Avatar franchise! The wording of “theatricals” could also just be used as a synonym for “films”, to indicate prestige, theatrical release quality and budget rather than made-for-TV or direct-to-DVD vibes.

In summary, it seems like right now, they’re covering all the bases, but if Paramount+ is as successful as they want it to be, it’s likely they would eventually (maybe quite soon) move more and more stuff into it exclusively. Currently, there’s also still a lot of uncertainty due to the COVID-19 pandemic, and so the new state of the theatrical, linear, and streaming marketplaces hasn’t really crystallized yet either. The world does seem to be moving to streaming quite hard though, so while they’re covering all the bases right now, again, it’s likely most of this stuff will end up mainly as a Paramount+ thing.

And again, I mentioned TikTok as a possible experimental place for short-form content. Maybe. Especially if they make the next Avatar after Korra modern day?! Ok, let me not get ahead of myself...

Who will work at Avatar Studios?

We only know about Bryke so far. They’re the co-Chief Creative Officers.

Brandon Hoang, who was working with Bryke on live-action ATLA at Netflix, has confirmed he’s not involved. He also left Netflix at some point; not sure if it was at the exact same time or for the same reasons as Bryke, but he’s neither here nor there, as it were.

No, I don’t have anything to tell you about Jeremy Zuckerman. :)

Given that there will be multiple shows and movies, it’s likely that lots of different people will end up working on them. Bryke’s official statement said that they will “build [...] teams and productions” at Avatar Studios, and Mike also said that they will be “oversee[ing] the franchise”. Right now, we don’t know what exact role Bryke will have. They might write/direct/showrun some stuff themselves, or they might oversee other creatives they hire for those roles, or, likely, both-- different levels of involvement for different shows and movies.

As mentioned previously, Avatar Studios (probably) isn’t an animation production studio. This means they will still hire animation production studios, like Studio Mir, to do the animation itself. I say “like” Studio Mir, because I’m not sure if Studio Mir itself is free right now. They recently officially partnered with Netflix and have plenty of things on their plate there. So, it remains to be seen who will be doing the actual animation for Avatar Studios’ projects.

Lastly, this is an awesome opportunity to have the “culturally appropriate, non-whitewashed cast” assurance Bryke originally made for live-action ATLA both on and off the screen at Avatar Studios!

Netflix and live-action ATLA

There has been no news or updates on the live-action adaptation of ATLA being developed at Netflix, which Bryke was originally showrunning but left (to do all this!) over creative differences.

No, it’s not cancelled.

I suppose this makes it a little more likely that Netflix would choose to give up on it, but right now there have been no changes. The existence of Avatar Studios almost definitely has no effect on the licensing rights Netflix obtained to make a live-action ATLA adaptation-- that stuff is usually pretty iron-clad. Again, maybe in light of all this Netflix will choose to not go through with it, but they also might want to make it even more now to compete with Paramount+ on Avatar. We don’t really know the stances of the decisionmakers at Netflix, so we’ll have to wait and see.

Personal note

Over the last few months I’ve gotten a lot of, err, rude comments and messages whenever I said there could be new stuff coming. I’m really not here to say “I told you so”, because I don’t care-- I run Avatar News for fun.

But, I hope this goes to show that I wouldn't be posting things if I didn't have good factual reason to believe them, and that very much panned out very correctly here. Sometimes it’s directly or indirectly based on stuff I can't say publicly. I always have and always will post in a trustworthy, fact- and reason-based manner.

In light of that, and for just a bit of “I told you so”, here’s a timeline of all the Avatar News posts that led up to today. Definitely had a lot of fun re-reading these just now:

August 12th, 2020: Bryke left the Netflix live-action ATLA series two months ago. It’s not the end of the world.

September 15th, 2020: ViacomCBS is relaunching their streaming service next year as Paramount+, the future home of Avatar shows and movies?

September 17th, 2020: Anonymous asked: Do you think now that the original creators left the live action remake that they will make a new avatar animated series?

November 6th, 2020: CEO says Avatar franchise has potential for new original series on Paramount+, the new streaming service launching next year to compete with Netflix, Disney+, and HBO Max

January 4th, 2021: “This also brings up another interesting point, which is that Bryke actually originally pitched this storyline to Nick as an animated movie after the show. That obviously didn’t happen, but now that Paramount+ is coming and teasing potential new Avatar content…”

January 5th, 2021: Investor day announcement

January 21st, 2021: The Fire Nation Awaits 🌺 An in-depth look at the ever-elusive islands in the era of Korra and when we will finally pay them a visit. See section: Are they saving the Fire Nation for an animated movie?

February 12th, 2021: All seven seasons of Avatar: The Last Airbender and The Legend of Korra are coming to Paramount+ on March 4th!

February 20th, 2021: The musical themes of Avatar: An Avatar News interview with Jeremy Zuckerman. See section: “So, another streaming service: Paramount+.”

February 24th, 2021: Avatar Studios masterpost :)

[riotwritesthings]

Location Matters

WinterIron, E, 2.6k - PWP, semi-public sex, anal fingering, begging, dirty talk, edging, orgasm delay

Ayyy welcome to the first day of Smutober! Yes that’s right, I’m going with Smutober, Kinktober didn’t quite feel right when I’m much more focused on just writing smut than getting through a list of unique kinks. And I’m not following any prompt list at all, just my heart. And I have no idea how many fics I’ll actually be able to get out this month, I have been having a Bad Brain Time, as the kids say, but I’m gonna do what I can and it’s better than nothing right?! Anywho I’m here to break rules and write smut so lets get to it!!

~~~

“Please,” Tony sobs as he arches his back harder, fingers scrabbling at the shelves in front of him and he really can’t bring himself to care about the several packets of pasta that go tumbling to the ground.

Even if he didn’t consider dry pasta a terrible abomination, Tony has way better things to focus on anyways. Like the solid line of heat that is Bucky pressed in close against him, pinning Tony securely between Bucky’s broad chest and the corner of the shelves as two of Bucky’s calloused fingers slowly press into him.

Tony knows they’re being more than a little ridiculous. They are grown adults with their own bedroom, but here they are in the common kitchen of the compound, barely hidden away in the walk-in pantry with Bucky’s hand shoved down his pants like horny teenagers. He can feel Bucky’s cock nudging hard and thick against the back of his thigh and Tony is well on his way to fully hard himself, rocking back against Bucky’s hand and trying to force him to move faster.

“Fuck, I- you- I need—“ Tony gasps out, voice breaking off into a moan when Bucky’s fingers press a little deeper. His grip on the shelves slips again as he can’t decide between turning to face Bucky or just trying to force himself back onto Bucky’s fingers, trying to get more, and Tony ends up just kind of twitching and thrashing in place.

“Patience, baby,” Bucky rumbles, his lips moving over the skin beneath Tony’s ear and that’s probably Tony’s least favorite thing to hear but oh he loves the way Bucky says it, low and rumbling and burning with intensity.

Bucky shifts his wrist a little and it works Tony’s worn pajamas down a little lower past the curve of his ass, but not enough to free his cock from the clinging fabric. When Tony rocks his hips in place, trying get any friction, or Bucky’s fingers pressing into him deeper, or anything, all he gets is the faint drag of soft flannel over his leaking cock. Tony lets out a desperate groan and tries to buck his hips harder, but Bucky just moves with him, not letting Tony have more than the not-enough stretch of two of Bucky’s fingertips barely working him open. Which, after Bucky thoroughly fucked him into the couch earlier today, it’s not nearly enough.

“What do you mean patience, we are in the kitchen,” Tony finally manages to get out, and his voice might be rough and breathy but he still thinks it’s a decent point.

Sure, it was some ungodly hour of the morning when they finished their latest Star Trek binge and first stumbled down here looking for snacks, but Tony has honestly lost track of time entirely at this point. He has no idea how long it’s been since Bucky kicked the pantry door shut behind them and crowded Tony up against the shelves and or all he knows the damn early birds in the house will be along any second, yanking the door open looking for the pancake mix or something and getting a whole-ass eyeful. Literally.

But in the next second all thought is pushed from Tony’s mind when Bucky’s fingers finally press deeper, nudging over his prostate as they twist inside him. Tony had more good points to make, he swears he did, but he forgets all of them as Bucky begins to finger him in earnest, pressing kisses to Tony’s throat and mouthing filthy paise into his skin, bringing Tony right up to the edge with the almost brutal efficiency that he’s basically perfected.

“’S this what you wanted, baby? Want me to really work you open, make you feel it?” Bucky demands roughly, his lips sliding up to Tony’s jaw and all Tony can manage is a shaking whine, trying desperately to shove himself back onto Bucky’s fingers. “Yeah, always take it so fuckin’ sweet, feel so perfect wrapped around me, clenching an’ shakin’, still tryin’ to fuck yourself back on my fingers even when you can’t barely move.”

As if to prove his point Bucky presses Tony in harder against the shelves, pinning him in place as every twist and thrust of Bucky’s fingers set off new shockwaves of pleasure through Tony’s whole body, pushing him higher. Bucky alternates between deep thrusts that make Tony ache for more and relentless jabs to his prostate that are driving Tony out of his mind.

“Please, please,” Tony begs, shaking as Bucky’s fingers stroke over his prostate again, tension winding tighter in his gut and he’s so close. He’s sobbing out every breath as Bucky’s fingers bear down harder and Tony clenches around them, arching back into the pressure as his balls draw up tight and the knot of pleasure inside him twists tighter, tighter—

And then Bucky’s fingers disappear, withdrawing from him entirely and Tony is left dangling right at the edge without anything to push him over, clenching around nothing and feeling so empty. He can’t even rock his hips in place for the light drag of his pajamas over his cock, Bucky’s free hand tight on his hip to hold him in place and it only accentuates the waves of pleasure still sparking along Tony’s nerves, not quite enough.

“What the fuck,” Tony groans, “you hate me, you hate me and you want me to die like this, is that it?!”

“Tha’s what you always say when I try to take my time with you,” Bucky points out with a low, rumbling laugh as he drags his fingers too-lightly over Tony’s loose hole.

“And I’m still convinced it’s true!” Tony replies, his voice caught somewhere between a snap and a whine. He has more to say, but he’s interrupted by Bucky pressing back into him with three fingers this time, stretching him that little bit wider and he’s so loose, so desperate, that there’s not even a burn. All Tony feels is the stretch of it as Bucky’s fingers sink all the way into him, until Tony can feel him everywhere.

Bucky’s fingers thrust in and out of him in an unsteady rhythm, working him up without ever giving him enough to push him to the edge again and Tony buries his face in his folded arms to try and muffle the sob that bursts out of him. His legs are doing nothing to support him at this point, it’s only Bucky’s hand on his hip and Bucky’s chest pressed flush against his shoulder blades and Bucky’s fingers buried deep inside him, holding him up and taking him apart.

He can’t think past the waves of pleasure that rush through him every time Bucky just barely nudges his prostate, the shudders that run through him when Bucky withdraws his fingers just enough to tug at his stretched rim, making sure Tony feels it. And just when Tony thinks the knot in his gut can’t wind any tighter, that he’s about to come with nothing more than the maddeningly inconsistent press and twist of Bucky’s thick fingers inside him, playing with him, the pressure abruptly disappears and leaves him achingly empty.

“Oh, you absolute bastard,” Tony groans, thunking his head against the shelf in front of him and then sucking in a sharp breath when Bucky laughs roughly and drags his fingertips in light circles around Tony’s hole. “Would you just-“ Tony cuts off into a breathy whine when Bucky’s fingers just barely start to press into him again, trying to arch his back harder like he can force Bucky’s fingers back inside him despite the way Bucky has him thoroughly pinned in place, completely helpless as Bucky’s fingers continue dragging wetly around and around his clenching hole, until Tony’s every breath is coming out as a pleading whine.

When Bucky finally pushes his fingers back in he does it slowly, so slowly, making sure Tony can feel every shift and press, working him back right back to the edge with steady, inescapable thrusts of his fingers and then pushing him higher. Until Tony has no idea how he hasn’t already broken and he can’t even try to rock back into it anymore, can’t move, can only take it.

“Fuck, love the way you shake for me,” Bucky growls, all hot breath and teeth against the line of Tony’s throat as he crooks his fingers a little harder, and then has to crowd in against Tony a little more to help keep him upright as Tony’s legs give out entirely.

Tony’s legs might be useless noodles at this point but that doesn’t stop them from shaking with overstimulation, his hips jerking and twitching in place with every deep press of Bucky’s fingers. Tony’s entire body is shaking like he’s been hit with a live wire and he’s crying out every breath, his fingers going numb from how tightly he’s gripping the edge of the shelf.

“Look so fuckin’ good like this, blissed out an’ shaking’ with it, can barely even hold yourself up,” Bucky growls, pressing down harder on Tony’s prostate and Tony’s entire body jolts hard, his hands sliding off the shelf and his bare feet sliding against the floor.

After a second of scrambling Tony manages to cross his arms across the shelf, burying his face against his forearms to try and muffle his wail. Partially because he’s so close and fuck Tony might just die if they get interrupted before Bucky finally lets him cum, if it’s not soon, and also because he doesn’t want to miss the honestly filthy words spilling out of Bucky’s mouth.

“C’mon sugar, wanna feel you come on my fingers,” Bucky says, a low rumbling growl against the curve of Tony’s shoulder, “always clench down so damn tight around me, sound so gorgeous, wanna hear you sobbin’ for me.” He thrusts his fingers in hard again and then twists, stretching Tony’s loose rim a little more and even that is enough to have Tony’s entire body jolting, another ragged cry tearing out of him. “Fuckin’ love this, don’t you baby?” Bucky demands roughly, “bein’ worked open and stuffed full? Pinned and helpless an’ just takin it, lettin’ me play with you however I want until you’re beggin’ for it just- like- this?”

The final couple words are punctuated with a too-brief drag of Bucky’s fingertips over his prostate, sending bolts of pleasure through him that are right on the edge of too-much and god it’s not enough. Tony is only vaguely aware that he’s trying to beg, but keeping track of the broken attempts at words and ragged sounds spilling past his slack lips is far less important than the sensations rushing through him.

Tony would much rather focus on trying to shove himself back to meet the press of Bucky’s fingers, no matter how little he’s actually accomplishing, right up until Bucky presses in impossibly closer and Tony is left completely immobile. Bucky’s metal fingers disappear from his hip to instead tangle in his hair, yanking Tony’s head back with one hard tug and Tony has no hope of muffling or containing the loud cry that escapes him. All he knows is the deep, insistent press of Bucky inside him, the burning pleasure and ache as his spine is pulled into a sharp arch and Bucky’s fingers seem to press impossibly deeper.

“Fuck-“ Tony chokes out, panting brokenly for air and then whining when even that simple motion lights up his entire body, like he’s just one giant struck nerve and his face is wet with sweat or tears or both as he finally manages to gasp out “please—“

“I can feel how fucking close you are, sweet thing, how much you need it,” Bucky says, lips trailing up Tony’s neck and when Tony tries to wiggle in his hold, to rock himself down onto Bucky’s fingers, anything, Bucky’s teeth catch at the corner of his jaw to hold him in place. “Don’t you wanna come for me baby?” Bucky demands once Tony goes relatively still in his hold, hard tremors still running through him as Bucky’s fingers continue to thrust and press and twist inside him. “Don’t you wanna make a fuckin’ mess of yourself for me? Let me watch you wobble back to our room, legs still shaking’ and cum coolin’ on your skin, flushed and dazed and gorgeous, wanna let me lick you clean and put you to bed still sloppy and reekin’ like sex?”

“I- I- ahh—“ Tony wants to say that god does he want that, he’s so close, but every drag of Bucky’s fingers is melting every thought out of his head and Tony is nearly screaming out every exhale and he can’t stop, shaking too hard to properly fuck himself back onto Bucky’s hand and fuck he’s so close—

“C’mon Tony, give it to me,” Bucky snarls, rocking his hips against Tony and circling his fingers hard over Tony’s prostate and that’s it.

Tony’s loud cry cuts off as his voice breaks, and instead he’s left making hoarse, breathy noises as he comes, wave after wave of pleasure rushing over him, dragging him under. He can barely hear anything past his own pulse throbbing in his ears, his orgasm dragging on and on with every relentless shove of Bucky’s fingers still working into him until Tony’s brain finally whites out to the sound of his own hitching, wailing moan.

When Tony zones back in, both of Bucky’s arms are wound around his waist, holding him steady as Tony continues twitching with fading aftershocks. His pants are back in place, although the front of them is indeed a mess of his own cooling cum, and Tony has to forcibly remind himself why just falling asleep right here is a bad idea.

And it’s not because he can feel Bucky’s cock still pressed hard and warm against his hip, no matter how distracting of a realization that is.

“What time is it?” Tony asks roughly, because his mind might be a little (a lot) blown, and he really wants to do something about the way Bucky is rocking minutely against him while he lets Tony catch his breath, but not as much as Tony wants to not get another lecture about public indecency. It always makes him feel a little too much like he’s back in college.

There’s a tellingly long silence before Bucky clears his throat and says, “Uh… we should probably get back to our own room pretty soon.”

The hoarse, gravely sound of Bucky’s voice has heat valiantly trying to swell in Tony’s gut again, but Tony forces himself to focus on arguing “You should probably carry me back to our room, because what even are legs. I don’t think I have them, I certainly cannot feel them.”

Bucky laughs but seems all too happy to oblige in scooping Tony up off the ground, even if it is more in an up over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes way than Tony would really prefer. He’s about to complain, but then Bucky’s hand settles over the curve of his ass and Tony decides he can live with it, and at least this will keep the rapidly cooling cum soaked through the front of his pajamas from rubbing against his skin.

It’s not until they’re in the elevator that Tony’s brain comes back online enough for him to remember all of Bucky’s filthy promises, and Tony grins at the small of Bucky’s back as he says, “I guess if you really want I’ll try wobbling around like a drunken baby giraffe when we reach our floor, but frankly I’m more invested in the ‘licking’ part of your plan.”

Bucky hums, equal parts amused and thoughtful, and Tony’s breath catches hard as Bucky shifts his grip a little, his fingers easily dipping between Tony’s cheeks through his thin pajamas.

[duxhess-kryzewan]

Obitine First Kiss?

- Drowning -

When they had first landed on Corellia, Obi-Wan was relieved to be somewhere that had plenty of fresh water. The last planet they had been hiding on was dry and dusty and even Satine - born and raised on a desert planet herself - had became sick of the terrain.

The novelty quickly wore off the longer they trekked through the jungle. The forestry was dense, the humidity unforgiving. Every breath he took came with the unsettling sensation of drowning on dry land.

Qui-Gon had left them the night before last, leaving Obi-Wan with coordinates on where to meet the following day. He had a contact - a long time ally - who resided on miles away from the forest they were hiding in. If all went according to plan, they would have a new and unrecognizable ship and a safe means off the planet. All he was tasked with was keeping Satine safe in the mean time.

He didn't like to read too much into why Qui-Gon was so keen on leaving them alone together.

"The sky looks like it'll be clear tonight." Satine comments as they move into a clearing.

"It' seems so," He says, "Let's just hope it stays that way."

Storms were frequent and often unpredictable. One minute the sun would be shining, only for the clouds to roll in mercilessly pelt the planet with rain.

"From desert to storm," She huffs, "I can't tell which is worse."

He observes her intently as she walks; how her damp hair clung to her neck, how she would periodically run the back of her hand across her brow line. He sympathized with her discomfort. The air felt sticky, the breeze heavy as it blew past them. Satine had long since abandoned her attempts at maintaining her regality. There was no point anymore. She had been with them long enough to know they wouldn't judge her in the slightest for slipping out of her Duchess façade, and the climate made it nearly impossible to look the part.

Not that it mattered much. Obi-Wan didn't think there was anything that could make her any less beautiful.

He tried to push the thought to the back of his mind. An irrevocable attachment to her was the last thing he needed.

"Can we stop for the evening?" She asks.

He marvels at the gentleness in her voice. Before, in the beginning weeks she had been placed under their protection, she had huffed and whined until he relented and gave into her requests. The near death experiences and friendship they managed to forge over the passing weeks had humbled her some, and gave him enough insight to realize she was more than just an entitled Duchess. He was grateful they had found a way to be more civil to one another.

“As you wish."

They were nearing one of the many lakes that covered the planet anyway; a more than ideal place to set up camp for the night. Fresh water was something neither of them took for granted after their stay in the desert.

When they stop Satine wastes no dropping to the ground and leaning back against one of the trees that surrounded them. Foliage was another thing they both had become more appreciative of recently. The cover of trees, the simple ability to rest against something other than the hot sand, even the always lingering dampness of the soil.

He busies himself looking around around for wood dry enough to start a fire. It was by no means necessary for warmth, but it would be there luck that the temperature would drop with the arrival of night time, and it wouldn't hurt to have a source of light. The stars might have been bright on Corellia, but he would be hard pressed to consider it enough illumination for them.

His mind had been so preoccupied on setting up camp that he hadn't even noticed Satine's absence until a splash broke through the silence.

"Satine?"

He turns just in time to see her disappear below the surface of the water, and for a fleeting moment panic floods through him. What if she can't swim? What if something was in the water? And why is she in the water in the first place?

The relief he feels when she reappears is almost insurmountable.

"What are you doing?" He half yells, trying his best not to let the worry in his voice show.

She grants him an amused smirk, and something about the sparkle in her eyes sends a warmth trough his chest, despite how hard he tries not to let it do so.

"Cooling off, Obi-Wan." She says matter-of-factly, "You may not mind being covered in sweat and grime after trekking through the jungle all day, but I refuse to stew in filth."

He has to repress the urge to laugh. Roughing it may have humbled the young Duchess, but there was always going to be a part of her that was prim and proper.

"I'm a bit more preoccupied with your safety than worrying about my personal hygiene."

He glances to the pile of discarded clothes at the waters edge and is grateful for cover twilight provided him. If Satine could see the blush that colored his cheeks at the thought of her undress she would never let him live it down.

Satine scoffs and swims closer to shore, "As if you have to choose one or the other. Honestly, Obi-Wan."

She was right, of course. He hated the stickiness from the humidity and sweat that clung to his skin, but it hadn't been at the top of his priority list.

"Priorities, Duchess."

She laughs lightly and disappears under the water again.

The fire he was attempting to start was a lost cause, he decided. There was too much moisture for a flame to start. As much as he didn't like it, they were going to have to fair out without one for now.

So he settles for laying out his cloak in the driest area he could find and depositing their items on top of it. Qui-Gon didn't leave them with much, but the few items they did have were more than essential to their survival the next few days.

Obi-Wan decides that, so long as she is content in the water, he'll sit along the lakes edge and meditate. It had been too long since he had a chance to do so, and this was he could keep an eye on her.

​He settles at the waters edge, lightsaber and top layer of his clothing discarded beside him. The muggy air proved to be a challenge when taking a deep breath, but the sounds of the water and quiet of the night soothed him.

That was, until an unexpected splash of cold water hit him.

He sprang to his feet, the sudden chill catching him off guard. Below him, he found Satine smiling mischievously, still partially submerged in the water.

"Have you lost your mind?" He manages to sputter out.

She laughs, "Don't act like it didn't feel good. You know as well as I do the temperature is less than favorable."

He glares at her, but there's something to her smile that almost makes him forgive her. Rarely over the course of their time together has he seen anything resembling genuine happiness grace her. For all of the things that drive him crazy about her - and there were many, many things - there were just as many that made him adore her in ways a Jedi certainly should not. Seeing her smile was one of them.

“I was meditating."

"You do that quite enough."

"Its an integral part of connecting with the force."

Satine rolls her eyes, "Yes, so you've reminded me many times."

They had managed to cultivate something close to a friendship during their time on the run. Qui-Gon had insisted that he try and get along with her, both for the sake of their mission and for the sake of the Duchess.

He's sure neither Qui-Gin or himself could have anticipated the less sudden feelings that would blossom between him and the Duchess. Feelings that most definitely went against the code.

It scared him that part of him didn't care.

"Swimming in a random lake on an unfamiliar planet doesn't seem very becoming of a Duchess," He counters with a smirk, "Especially one so preoccupied with appearances."

"Neither is being on the run with a Jedi, but I've had to learn to adapt with what's given to me."

Her smiles falters for a moment, and suddenly he's filled with guilt. He could feel her emotional struggle through the force; how much anxiety and guilt she carries for leaving her planet in the midst of a civil war.

"I'm sorry," He says, "I didn't mean to imply anything."

The smile returns. It's softer, more understanding, but there all the same. He likes to see it on her.

"Forgiven," She stands, the shallow end of the water only reaching her waist, "Though I would appreciate your assistance."

She reaches out a hand towards him, all while he tries his best to ignore the way her wet underlayer of clothing clings to her. He hopes the cover of nightfall masks his blush.

"As you wish, your grace."

He takes her hand in his, fingers gripping her smaller ones tighter than what was strictly necessary, and just as he goes to pull her up onto dry land she roughly yanks him towards her.

He topples into the water, barely managing to catch his balance before he was submerged completely.

"Satine!"

She backs up quickly into deeper water, swimming away from him with a newfound sense of urgency. It doesn't stop the laughter though, or the wide smile she wore. It was the first time he's seen her that amused, and if he wasn't so distracted by his sudden frustration he would marvel at just how beautiful happiness looks on her.

"Have you gone mad?"

Satine laughs some more, "Oh please, it's just water Obi-Wan. You're doing little more than bathing and cooling off. Master Qui-Gon wouldn't be too pleased if I was left alone because you suffered heat stroke."

It was pointless to argue that the temperature wasn't near hot enough for heat stroke to actually overtake him and, though he would never admit it, the cold water did make him feel a great deal better.

"I'm not much use as a protector while unarmed and in the water." He decides to counter with, though he knows its a weak point. If the situation suddenly became dangerous he would just as well protect her here as he would on dry land.

Satine doesn't answer him and instead disappears once again below the surface of the water. The sky was clear, but not even the planets stars could provide him enough light to see where she had vanished too.

He had grown accustomed to the many facets of her over their time together. There were versions of her he learned how to handle; from a stubborn Satine to a solemn one. A mischievous Satine however was uncharted territory, and he didn't know whether to fear her or be amused by her.

There's only inches separated them when she ascends out from under the water, and he quickly settles on terrified.

He's utterly terrified, because never has another person looked so beautiful to him as she did in that moment. Lips parted slightly, wide eyes staring back into his.

"Satine..." It's a warning, but he knows deep down his heart isn't really in it.

"Obi-Wan."

She's kissing him then. Gently; a ghost of a touch that he almost isn't convinced is real. Her lips are cold from the water, breath warm against his skin.

Before he can think better of it, his hand finds hers under the water, his other sliding up the slope of her neck and coming to cup her cheek.

"We shouldn't be doing this." He whispers against her.

Satine pauses for a brief moment, "No we shouldn't."

He wonders what it says about them that neither make a move to stop.

It crosses his mind what Qui-Gon would say if he found them like this; pressed together in shoulder deep water, disregarding the promises both of them made to their people and to themselves.

Her hand slide up the back of his head and tangles into his hair, her fingers grasping his Padawan braid tightly between them.

"We should stop." Satine says before kissing him hard with a newfound sense of urgency.

"We should." He agrees, kissing her back with just as much force.

Her legs suddenly wrap around his waist and it renders him breathless. The code was cracking around him with every passing second, and yet, he couldn't bring himself to stop kissing her.

It dawns on him then; that he has fallen irrevocably in love with Satine Kryze.

[my-own-oracle]

Hey for the valentines ask can you do MTMTE Megatron giving the reader an anonymous Valentines poem and maybe reader gives megs one too?

I really enjoyed writing this one; I hope you like it as well. (ask box is still open for valentines asks till the last 3 days of February)

Megatron couldn't help himself, not when it came to you. No matter what he did, you held a piece of his processor captive. 

You and your team had been assigned as ambassadors of sorts. Your job was to put a good impression of the human race out into the galaxy, Keep tabs on the "cybertronians of interest," as your government called him and a few others, and report once a week to your home planet and leading government officials. 

A whole crew of humans and you had snagged his optic from the beginning. It had been little things, like saying good morning to everyone you saw. Over time larger items caught his eye as well, like taking the time to learn nearly every designation of every cybertronian on board (he still had no idea how you did that, but he was impressed). But the thing that stood out most of all was this little storytelling session.

 Once a week, you came to the observation deck and told stories. It has started with just a handful of bots you had grown close to, but thanks to "word of mouth," that little group has grown—eventually, the news settled into the audials of Megatron, who came to listen. The large silver-grey mech stood in shadows, out of sight, listening to the history of your planet, personal life stories, human fiction, and folk tales. You explained everything you could to anyone who wanted to attend. 

"Let me get this straight," a young bot closer to the back interrupted. Megatron watched as you paused your story with a smile. "There's a holiday all about love on your planet. And it's celebrated because a human man was killed?"

You laughed. It was bright and soft, are too precious of a sound to Megatron's ears. "that is an extremely simplified version of the events, but yes. At least that's how the stories go."

Another bot sat up straighter "you mean there's more than one story?"

"Yes, like I was saying." You smiled, scanning the little audience you had. " There are two stories about St. Valentine's death. There's no real answer to which one is right or if there was more than one man named Valentine. But the most common one follows a simple storyline." 

Megatron watched as you got lost in the short story recalling the harsh laws of ancient Rome and the outlaw of marriage for young men meant to be soldiers. 

He was captivated by how your eyes shined, how you played with your fingers when you came to the romantic part of the story- you talked about the man who married young lovers. Risking his own life to spread love in his homeland and his murder for defying his leader. 

"overtime the day of remembrance,  it morphed into a holiday about spreading love. Sharing poems and cards and other sweet mementos" You paused. Then hurried to a small bag on the floor near you. 

"I have a few that I've gotten over the years." You pulled out paper cards, handing them out to be seen by the bots closer to you. "I've never gotten any real romantic ones or any from a secret admirer, but these kinds of cards are often given to family and friends." Your smile had vanished for a moment. Causing the ex-warlords spark to sink. 

No one had ever given you a romantic gift? That seemed impossible. You were a beautiful and kind person. So patient and understanding. The ideal specimen of your species. And no one had taken a romantic interest in you?

Megatron silently left his dark back corner. Making the long trek back to his hab-unit. He would have to fix that. 

*****

Eyes that shine brighter than the stars above. 

So foreign yet so familiar to me.

And inferno of kindness and of love.

Showing this mech what it means to be free.

I wish I knew how to speak to your heart,

Instead, I hide from you, suddenly mute. 

My mind, fixated when we are apart. 

In a way, my silver tongue can't compute.

A feeling stronger than any other,

I hide these feelings deep within my spark.

Knowing you are better with another.

I do not belong in your human heart.

A mech once born as a humble miner,

Transformed, your secret admirer.

Megatron read over his work a final time. It wasn't his best work due to the format being so foreign to him. The style was called a 'Shakespearean sonnet' and, according to his research, was considered romantic on earth. 

He had taken a few hours to compose the piece. Studying the style's intricacy and finding the right words to what he needed to say to you. 

The datapad was the third and final draft. The only thing left to do would be to deliver it. You hadn't been in your hab-unit all day, according to your unit mates. He had overheard them talking about you and took that as his cue to leave the datapad for you there. Leaving before anyone could know, he has stepped into your little home away from earth. 

It gave him a feeling of pride. Knowing he was the first to express such feelings to you in your culture's romantic way of expression. And in a form, he had only briefly studied. 

*****

A purple datapad sat on his desk. He had no clue how it got there. All of the ones he currently possessed were blue, and Ravage refused to do anything other than laugh when he asked. 

It held only a single document. 

Three little lines of text. 

He reached for the datapad he had on human poetry forms. It looked familiar to the Hiku he had briefly thought about looking deeper into. 

  Towering giant,

  You stole my heart at first glance,

  I wish you were mine.

Megatron felt his spark hum for a moment.

"Keep smiling like that, and someone's going to think you're losing your mind." Megatron glared at the Felicon, who chuckled in response. 

"Are you sure, my small friend, you don't want to share any knowledge on this poet?"

"You already know who sent it." Megatron looked back to the simple poem, yes. And it made his spark him, knowing it was from you.

.

[hearts-hunger]

say it again when we’re sober || frankie morales x reader

Read on AO3 | Masterlist

Summary: High off your asses and half-asleep watching Deep Space Nine, you and Frankie say some things you might not have said sober - but that doesn’t make them any less true.

Pairings: Frankie “Catfish” Morales x Reader, College AU

Genre: Fluff, smut, idiots to lovers

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings: Drug use, making out, fingering (be safe smoking the devil’s lettuce, kids), perhaps boring amounts of consent-talk (but is there really such a thing? consent is so sexy)

A/N: Yeah so I got high and somebody had Star Trek on and I let my imagination run wild. I’m pretty proud of this one, though - I think it’s hot and really soft. Also, I know this isn’t a Frankie gif, but since it’s a college au I wanted him to look a little younger :) Enjoy!

One second. Omw.

You stuffed your phone in your pocket after reading his text and looked through the grating in the security door, your arms crossed over your chest against the cold. It seemed like Frankie was taking his sweet time coming from his dorm to let you into his building, and you shifted from one foot to another to try and generate a little heat.

He came through the inside door a minute later, grinning like an idiot when he saw you; you tried to ignore the butterflies you always felt when he smiled at you. He opened the security door for you and ushered you inside with a gallant wave.

“Sorry it took forever, Santi almost set the whole place on fire trying to make popcorn.”

You gave him an exasperated smile as you walked with him down the corridor towards his dorm. “Great. So it smells like burnt popcorn?”

He smirked. “Not for long.”

“Wait.” You grabbed the sleeve of his hoodie and pulled him to a stop.

He raised a brow. “What?”

“We’re not gonna - ” You looked around and were satisfied to see an empty hallway, but still lowered your voice. “- smoke inside, are we?”

He looked amused at your worry. “Yeah, why not? I thought you wanted to smoke.”

You punched his shoulder and gave a begrudging smile when he laughed.

“Shut up,” you said. “And yeah, I do, but you’re gonna get in trouble doing it inside.”

He rolled his eyes as you started walking again. “Ugh, fine. We’ll go outside if you want. But it’s gonna be cold.”

“I’ll make you some hot soup or something.”

He snorted. “Yeah, let’s get high and have soup. That sounds great.”

He held the door open for you when you reached his dorm, and you were greeted by the smell of burnt popcorn, as promised.

“Honey, I’m home,” you called, looking around for the culprit. Santi’s head poked out from the kitchen and gave you a wide grin.

“Hi, sunshine,” he said. “Sorry about the popcorn. I didn’t burn all of it, though.”

You went through to the kitchen as Frankie went into his room for a minute, picking out a handful of popcorn from the not-burnt bowl. “And they said college wouldn’t make you any smarter, Santi.”

He smirked. “Yeah, well, you’re the one still hanging out at our apartment on a Saturday night when you could be doing literally anything else, so who’s the real dumbass?”

You smiled. “Still you. What are you doing with your Saturday night, if you’re too fancy to spend it here?”

He leaned against the counter. “I’m going to Will and Ben’s.”

“Ah,” you said, nodding sagely. “Mario Kart.”

“Hey, you’re welcome to join,” Santi said. “Unless you’d rather be alone with Frankie.”

He waggled his eyebrows suggestively; you laughed and tried to downplay the heat rising in your cheeks.

“Yeah right,” you lied. “I’m here for his weed, not anything else.”

“Oh, are you guys smoking?” he asked. “Can I join?”

You shrugged. “Sure.”

“Only if you want to freeze to death,” Frankie called. A second later he came out of his room, holding another hoodie and the pencil case he kept his stash in.

“She’s making me take her outside to smoke,” Frankie told Santi.

Santi grimaced. “Yeah, no thanks.”

Frankie tossed you the extra hoodie he’d brought out, a soft blue thing you’d seen him wear a lot. You put it on and were practically swimming in it, but it was nice and warm and smelled like him.

“Thanks,” you said, sticking your hands in the front pocket and swinging back and forth on your heels.

He looked amused at your enjoyment of his hoodie. “You ready?”

“Lead on,” you said. You gently butted your head against Santi’s shoulder. “Bye, Santi. Hope you win in Mario Kart.”

“Thanks,” he said with a laugh. “I’ll leave the door unlocked for you.”

You and Frankie walked back out of the housing complex, catching each other up on your day. You’d been best friends since you arrived late to the first meeting of your physics class and had to take the only open seat, right next to Frankie. He’d walked you to your next class so you wouldn’t get lost, and from then on, you’d practically been inseparable.

Lots of people had thought you’d get together. Santi, Will, and Ben - Frankie’s best friends from freshman year and now your friends too - teased both of you mercilessly about it. You couldn’t lie and say you hadn’t thought about it - really, you spent a lot of time thinking about it - but you were way too shy to make the first move. You figured Frankie would tell you if he felt that way about you, and you’d live with it if he didn’t. You loved him and you knew he loved you, even if it wasn’t like that, and you were happy with it.

He took you down to the side of the outbuilding that technically served as the housing offices, but it didn’t see much traffic during the day and was abandoned at this hour.

“Ok?” he asked, and you knew that as much as he’d grumbled, he was happy to change his plans around to make sure you felt comfortable.

You looked around at the dark parking lot. “Yeah, it’s good.” It was cold, like he’d warned you it would be, and you stood close to him as he fished a joint and a lighter out of his bag.

“Your pencil case must make you popular with all the ladies,” you teased.

He laughed. “Yeah. I haven’t really found a better place for it.”

He put the pencil case in the pocket of his hoodie and took a long, slow drag when the joint was lit. He held it out to you and you took it carefully.

“This isn’t the ‘hype you up’ kind, is it?” you asked. You’d had something before that made you all jittery and wild, and you hadn’t liked it that much.

He shook his head, bottling a cough in his chest. “Uh-uh,” he said, turning his head to exhale. “It’ll chill you out. You’re good.”

You took as long a drag as you could manage, giving a decent volley of coughs as you exhaled. You smoked with Frankie pretty frequently, all things considered, but you still weren’t very good at it. You liked being high, but you didn’t really like the process of getting high.

“Hit it again,” Frankie offered. “We both know you don’t ever get anything on the first try.”

That was probably true. You took another drag, the lit end flaring with color in the darkness, and managed it better with a little less choking.

You handed it back to Frankie. “Thanks for coming outside.”

“Sure,” he said with a smile. “Anything for you, kiddo.”

You stood close to each other for warmth, passing the joint back and forth until it was spent. Frankie killed it and you looked up at the stars, dim with the light pollution from campus but with certain constellations still recognizable.

Frankie cleared his throat. “So, I’m gonna say something, and it might be a little weird.”

You laughed and tipped your head back down to look at him. “That’s always a danger when you open your mouth, Frankie.”

His smile and the way he looked at you seemed so impossibly tender that you wondered if you were seeing it correctly.

“Ok, smart-ass,” he said, and his voice matched the way he looked, soft and affectionate. He looked a little nervous, and you wondered what he wanted to say that could be such a big deal. Usually Frankie was so straightforward, unafraid of speaking his mind - 

“I wanna kiss you.”

Your breath caught in your throat. 

“What?” you choked.

He laughed. “Goes down real smooth, huh? Well, forget I said it.”

“No, Frankie,” you said, trying to get your composure. You felt a swing of dizziness and grabbed onto his arm to steady yourself.

“Easy, tiger,” he said, putting his hand on your other arm. “You alright?”

“Yeah.” You looked up at him. Could you really have heard him right?

“Say that thing you just said.”

He smiled. “Which one? About wanting to kiss you?”

You tipped your face up almost unconsciously. “Yeah, that one.”

He gave a thoughtful hum. “Well...” He leaned closer to you, close enough that your noses touched. He chuckled softly. “I’ve wanted to kiss you for a long time, kiddo. Pretty much since the day you grabbed the seat next to me in physics.”

You could feel his warm breath on your skin. “That long?”

He hummed in agreement. “That long.”

You closed your eyes. He was so close - you felt his warmth all around you, protecting your from the cold.

“So kiss me,” you said softly, almost afraid to speak too loud and break the spell, to test this delicate balance you both hung in.

You didn’t know how long he waited - it could have been seconds or hours, you couldn’t tell - but then there was nothing but the feel of his mouth on yours, warm and soft and cautious.

He pulled back just enough to see your face.“How was that?”

You smiled. “Sweet,” you said, a little dazedly. Better than you had imagined. “Nice.”

He laughed. “Sweet and nice, huh?” He kissed you again, still as gentle as could be. “You’re sweet and nice.”

“You have a way with words, Frankie.”

“I’ve been told that a lot actually.”

He kissed you deeper then, still taking it slow, giving you time to get used to him. He let you take the lead, and when you opened your mouth, he responded in kind. You could have kissed him like that forever, lazy and easy and full of promise.

“Frankie,” you breathed.

He pulled back a little. “Hm? You ok?”

You pressed closer to him to close the distance; his cautiousness was sweet but unnecessary, and you wanted more of him.

“I want...” But you couldn’t say it, were too embarrassed all of a sudden, your face warming even in the cold air. Not even getting high could erase your bashfulness altogether, or make you brave enough to ask your best friend for - well, more. 

The hand that had been holding onto your arm released you, only to find its way to your waist.

“You want...” he prompted, giving you a few feather-light kisses to your cheeks and nose. “What do you want, pretty girl?”

Your breath caught when he called you that, and you wondered if he’d do it again if you asked.

“Call me that again,” you said.

You felt his smile against your cheek. “Tell me what you want, pretty girl,” he murmured. “‘S just me. You don’t have to be shy.”

You closed your eyes and leaned into him, your best friend, the person you felt safest with. 

“Touch me, please.”

“Okay,” he said against your jaw. He moved to kiss you, steering you gently back a few steps until you were against the wall, bracketed by his arms. You let your hands drift over his chest, fingers glancing over the little bit of collarbone exposed by the loose collar of his hoodie. 

“Tell me if you want me to stop, ok?” he said. You nodded, and his hand moved from your waist to your breast, kneading gently. You could feel the warmth of his hand even though the hoodie, and you sighed as he kissed you deeper.

He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, moving his thigh between your legs; you were surprised by the rush of warmth that went through your whole body. You didn’t know if he would have noticed, but you gasped a little, and you could feel his smile.

“What?” he asked, amused and kind.

“Just... surprised me a little.”

He nosed against your jaw. “Good surprise?”

You nodded. “You can...” Again, you drifted off, embarrassed. He kissed you again.

“I want to do whatever you want to do,” he said easily. “Whatever you’re comfortable with. All you have to do is tell me.”

Your cheeks felt impossibly hot against the cold air, and you leaned your head against his.

“You can...” you started again. You pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “You can - I want you to - ”

You put your hand over his and moved it down, slowly, giving him time to pull away. Even though he’d said he was ok with whatever you wanted, it was still so early, and you wanted to go slow, for both of your sakes. He got your meaning and started fumbling with the button on your jeans.

“Tell me what you want, pretty girl,” he reminded you again, but there was only affection in his voice, and you knew he would patiently remind you as many times as you needed. Frankie knew you, knew how you always got so tripped up trying to say what you meant, what you wanted - he knew you and cared for you like you needed to be cared for.

You blushed and hid your face against his shoulder. “Want you to... finger me. Please.”

A thrill rushed through his body at that, a wave of desire and protectiveness that you could feel under your hands as you held onto him. He moved closer to you, one hand leaning against the brick wall behind you, the other slipping under the waistband of your jeans.

“You can tell me to stop any time,” he said. “Just say the word.”

“Okay,” you agreed, already a little breathless at his warmth so close to you.

He moved his hand slowly, staying over your underwear; he gently worked his way over your heat, pressing just enough to make you sigh against his mouth. God, his hand was so big, and his fingers were so gentle - it was heady, with his fingers rubbing slow circles and his tongue in your mouth. You pressed against him, wanting more, wanting him. 

He pulled away and you wondered if you’d done something wrong, tried to tamp down the sting of disappointment and embarrassment as you thought he may have reconsidered it all. Before you could say anything, stutter out an apology, he gave you a quick, reassuring kiss.

“It’s alright,” he said. “Just wanted to warm my hand up a little for you.”

He cupped his hands over his mouth and warmed them, rubbing them together; he reached for your hands and blew gently on them too.

“Figured your hands were cold too,” he said sweetly, and kissed your knuckles. You gave him a wobbly smile and let him hold your hands for a moment.

“You’re so beautiful,” he said, with an innocence and sincerity that made you weak in the knees. 

You leaned close to kiss him, and he obliged you. You draped your arms around his neck and tucked your hands under his hood to keep them warm as he went back to the job at hand.

His fingers were a little warmer, but they were still a shock as he slipped into your underwear and traced over your heat. Your breath hitched from the first touch, and he gave a pleased hum as he started to circle your clit.

“Frankie,” you sighed, letting your body move naturally against him. 

“Feels ok?” he asked gently. 

“Y-yeah,” you breathed. He moved down and teased at your entrance; you bunched the fabric of his hoodie in your grip.

“Easy does it, pretty girl,” he said, nipping at your bottom lip. “Gonna take it nice and slow.”

True to his word, he slowly worked a finger into you, his thumb still rubbing your clit. You let out a shaky breath that gave way to a quiet moan, and you immediately felt yourself blush.

“Sorry,” you said.

He chuckled. “That’s ok. Sounded real pretty, baby.”

He made a come-hither motion with his finger, and you moaned again, a little less quietly. You buried your face in his neck, your cheeks burning; he smiled and kissed you, and you felt hot all over knowing he liked the sounds you made.

“Please, Frankie,” you said, kissing his neck. His thumb on your clit was driving you crazy; your legs started to shake and you leaned on him to steady yourself. “Please.”

He knew what you meant, and he added another finger, setting a steady pace. He didn’t seem in any mood to rush, and you let him draw you out with his skillful, patient touch. 

“Fuck,” you breathed quietly, tangling your fingers in his curls. You could feel your orgasm cresting like a wave between your hips, a low fire turned into a roaring flame with Frankie’s fingers inside you and his mouth on yours. You gasped and let out a sort of mewl as he gave your clit more attention, crumpling his hoodie in your fists.

“Frankie,” you almost whined. 

He kissed your collarbone. “Tell me, pretty girl.”

Your breath came in short pants. “Gonna cum, Frankie.”

“Good girl,” he praised, his voice low. “Cum for me, baby.”

His praise tipped you over the edge and you came on his fingers, riding out your orgasm as he drew it out as long as he could for you. You leaned your head back against the wall and he kissed your neck, murmuring words of praise.

“So beautiful,” he said against your skin. “What a good girl for me.”

When you came down from your high - well, one of them - blissed out and a little overstimulated in the best way, you looked up at him and gave him a dreamy smile.

“Thank you,” you said unsteadily. You were half aware that you were leaning heavily against him as your legs still shook, but he didn’t seem to mind.

He chuckled. “No problem, baby. My pleasure.”

You rested your head against his shoulder, feeling a little dazed as the endorphins seemed to make the weed start to hit more noticeably. You were content and warm, feeling more comfortable and safe than you had in a long time.

“You ok?” he asked. He ran a soothing hand up and down your back.

You hummed in agreement. “A little cold.”

“Yeah, it is a little cold out here,” he agreed. “Why don’t we go back to my place and get warmed up?”

“At least buy me a drink first,” you said, and he laughed.

“Come on, trouble.” He took your hand in his; you tucked yourself close to him and leaned against his arm as you walked back to his dorm.

Santi was still out when you got back, but he’d lit the one candle he kept for when girls came around, and the apartment smelled comfortingly like laundry, or some variant of a “soft cotton” smell. You kicked off your shoes and curled up on Frankie’s bed.

He leaned down and gave you a quick kiss. “Be right back.”

You were content to lay on the bed and doze a little; you did get a little in your head when you thought Frankie had been gone for a long time, but he came back just before you started getting panicky, his laptop and a bowl of popcorn in hand.

“You two and your popcorn,” you said, moving over to make room for him on the bed.

He smiled. “Yeah, but I didn’t burn it, because I’m not an idiot.” He set his laptop on his thigh and pulled up Netflix. “Any requests?”

You shook your head, cuddling close to him. “Whatever you want.”

He put on Deep Space Nine, one of his guilty pleasure shows, and put his arm over your shoulders.

Between the two of you, the popcorn bowl was quickly empty, and you you spent the remainder of the episode kissing and going through every dumb question you had about Star Trek. Your attention got hooked during one scene with a monastery and a weird prophecy-orb that gave people sex visions - or at least that’s what you gathered, as you were very tired and still pretty high. You looked over at Frankie to confirm that’s what had just happened, but stopped before you asked when you saw him.

He was asleep, his head at a bit of an uncomfortable angle, his arm still around you as he snored gently. You couldn’t help a smile as you studied his face, all soft and pretty and restful.

You couldn’t help the words that came out of your mouth, either, tumbling out before you could stop them.

“I love you.”

Oh, boy. Your pulse jumped as if you’d just yelled it from the rooftops instead of whispering it to him while he slept, and you watched his face for any kind of reaction. You didn’t know whether it had been a good idea to say it or not, but you had, and you found it was the easiest thing in the world. 

You wanted to say it again.

He shifted a little, tucking you closer to him; you held your breath, waiting to see if he had woken or was just moving closer in his sleep.

“Lay down,” he murmured. You did as he said, laying your head on his chest, tucking your hand in the pocket of his hoodie. He was warm and solid and safe, and you relaxed completely against him.

“I love you, Frankie,” you said again, even softer.

He gave a sleepy grunt. 

“Heard you... the first time,” he mumbled, still mostly asleep. “Love you, baby. Let’s... say it again when we’re sober, ‘kay?”

“Okay,” you agreed. You smiled and snuggled close to him, already feeling like you were home.

taglist: @punkgeekchic​, @tv-saved-the-teenage-girl, @stardust-galaxies

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[gabriel4sam]

Not love at first sight (But love at the sixty-third life defying idiocy), a CodyWan story

Written for @swbigbang, with the help of @kitcatkim in the role of the patient beta and @outernorth for artist (art just there)

Because all the other members of their small outpost were not in shape (read, hungover), Cody and Obi-Wan go on a small, simple, totally not possibilities of explosions supply run.

Cody comes back with a headache the size of Coruscant, a new hate of insectoids life. And a brand new significant other, in the shape of his exasperating General

 It’s not a hangover, it’s a hecatomb. Whatever Boil had put in his new still was a terrible, terrible idea. The entire Separatist Council could do pointes in tutus on the flight deck and the vode would neither see it, nor care about it.

Cody and Obi-Wan were the only ones not drinking the day before, them and the communication officers on duty. The communication officers because they were working, and Cody and Obi-Wan, well, because they like the occasion for the men to feel free, and they can’t with their superior officers in their company.

That doesn’t mean the men are supposed to feel free enough to incapacitate the whole bunch of idiots they are apparently in charge off.

“Latrine duties, the first time we do planet fall. The whole of them.” Cody grumbles, assessing the damage with a cold, clinical eye.

“How does that even work? Does every man have latrine duties for his own latrines? Do you make them install as many latrines as they are? ” Obi-Wan remarks. He’s the usual calm and composed Jedi Master Cody knows on the outside, but the Commander is pretty sure he’s laughing on the inside. Cody had met Quinlan Vos, ok? And he poured enough hard liquor in the man to obtain confidences. Confidences which horrified him, Obi-Wan had even less survival instincts than Cody thought, but confidences he can’t un-hear. He will know forever!

Or at least, he will know until a luckier droid kills him. Cody is not an optimist about clones living long, happy, fulfilling lives. He has eyes after all and a functioning brain.

Cody glares at Obi-Wan, just in case. He has learnt, in the two years since he took his position with his General, that Jedi react pretty well to glaring. Not that it stops them from doing stupid stuff, but at least, they feel guilty about it.

If they like the glaring party only. Commander Ponds had a lot of things to narrate about Mace Windu and the horrible, horrible conglomerate mogul.

Obi-Wan takes his most innocent air, something Cody stopped believing two days in their acquaintance, when his newly minted General had destroyed a whole block of warehouses on an unnamed moon and made a grown Hutt call for its parent. It had been a bad month for Obi-Wan. No need to judge. When innocents are in danger, the cost of the repairs is less a problem and more a number for the politicians to handle. And yes, Obi-Wan knows the money used could certainly be used in other useful ways, but no amount of credits could ever buy a life, in the eyes of a Jedi. But that day, when Cody, after a few, very stressful hours of radio-silence, had finally gotten back his General, slightly charred, the hostages, hungry and thirsty and exhausted but all of them in one piece, and a terrified Hutt, in the middle of a devastated battleground, he had understood better the warning of Alpha-17. There, Cody had sworn in petto to never underestimate his Jedi, despite the irreproachable manners, the swishing hair and the smile of a holo-star.

Together, they take the time to check every soldier, to make sure nobody was busy drowning in their own fluid because they were too hangover/still drunk, to roll over. Everybody is alive, and the communication officers are getting ready to do a double shift, and ready to nib their vode about it later.

“It’s a good thing we’re on down time,” Obi-Wan remarks, “I must confess, despite the talents of your brothers, I’m not quite sure we could withstand an attack from Grievous and his various cronies right now.”

“We would get our asses handed to us, you mean.”

“Exactly.”

Obi-Wan cautiously touches  one of the abandoned drink containers, with more care than he gives to explosives.

“What did he put in this thing?” he asks, fascinated.

“You’re not testing it!” Cody immediately retorts, because he knows his Jedi, “not in the name of science, curiosity or whatever.”

Obi-Wan touches the container a second time.

Cody could swear the thing moves in return, like it wants to be pet. Obi-Wan hums, his face interested and he leans a little more in the direction of the container. If the thing starts growing whatever strange means of locomotion is on its mind, Cody is using his blaster, no matter the General’s opinion. That’s how bad holo-dramas start, with an unknown thing unleashed on an unsuspecting ship/outpost/space station. He refuses to star in one of those plot-lacking dramas his brother Wolffe pretends he doesn’t love.

The thing doesn’t move anymore and Obi-Wan loses interest and goes back to helping troopers into their quarters and their bunks.

Cody helps, but that doesn’t mean he’s not plotting terrible retributions. He knows the last few weeks have been pretty hard, the hardest in a long time, that’s one of the reasons Obi-Wan and himself made themselves scarce last night. 

Now, they have a week just waiting for the Negotiator to come pick them up. One week for the men to rest and to heal and perhaps to train lightly…but that’s no reason for the sort of screw-up Cody is seeing right now. Boil and his still should be transferred from the 501th and put into whatever part of the army that handles studies about biological warfare. Biological warfare that the Republic officially doesn’t indulge in, studying it only as a way to protect its worlds against it. But Cody isn’t convinced. He has a lot of questions he will never ask about parts of the army which are not led by Jedi, and that the Jedi are trying, with no success, to have access too. Obi-Wan has promoted him so much that the Commander now has access to documents he’s pretty sure nobody thought a clone ever would. He’s staying silent for now. If the Jedi need help with that, if they fail, the vode will try, but Cody is keeping this ammunition in reserve. He can only fire it once, because when natural-borns who aren’t Jedi realize exactly how much power Obi-Wan and the Jedi council has given him and some of the other commanders, they will try to strip them of it, he just knows it.

At the end, everybody is moaning in their bunks, or manning communication, and Cody and Obi-Wan raid the nice rations, the ones with the green seals, no less food of unkown origins than the rest of it, but certainly the tastiest. They sit down at the entry of the outpost, sharing a canteen of water between them. They don’t talk, most of the time they don’t need to.

Cody isn’t really hungry but it’s easier to trick Obi-Wan into eating something when those who surround him do too. The warmth of the sun, the sounds of nature, the nice, and so rare, oh so rare, knowledge that they have a little free time instead of having to run to put out another fire. All of this is making Obi-Wan soften, like a carving of stone suddenly becoming pliable.

“Commander?” Cody’s holocom disturbs them, and Cody startles, suddenly realizing he was lost in the light playing into the copper of Obi-Wan’s hair.

“It’s nothing, really nothing probably,” the shiny in charge of this particular console explains to them, “ one of the new models of probes  should have been back twenty minutes ago. I tried to raise it per the procedure, but it isn’t answering.”

“We’re supposed to be alone on this world,” Obi-Wan remarks, a line forming between his brows.

“They are still working the kicks out of this model,” the shiny admits, “that’s why we used them specifically on this planet where they are in no danger. We’re supposed to go back with all of them, for study, to hammer out the last problems.”

The line between the General’s brows is growing deeper.

“I will make a report to the Council about the danger it could pose to you, to send any vode on the field with materials not totally ready, and the Jedi Order will issue a formal protest.” His shoulders are tense. No matter the number of tries, the Jedi are blocked at every corner in the Senate in their efforts to better the life of the clones, even in the small things and it’s a terrible possibility that this time will be the same.

“You know what? We should go check ourselves,” Cody decides, because he wants to erase that line, that tension. “Since Boil poisoned the men, we could do it. A little trek in fresh air before breathing the recycled air in the Negotiator again.”

“Oh Cody, I can do it myself,” Obi-Wan offers immediately, “you don’t have a lot of free time-“

“Funny, I would have sworn you didn’t know the concept…”

“I am perfectly capable of knowing when my body needs down time.”

“That’s not what Master Erin said.”

And that’s how they leave the base.

It’s almost noon, birds or other small things Cody can’t honestly identify are chirping, the air is crisp and fresh, and the sky is only slightly purple, with no risk of rain. No matter how many worlds he sees, Cody is still out of countenance on worlds where the combination of gases in the atmospheres and stars emitting other waves than the Kamino sun combine to give entire landscapes strange colours. Most of the time, he’s wearing his helmet which filters the strangeness of it, and it’s only at the end of the battle, when he takes it off, that he realizes everything is weirdly green-tainted.

Also, he’s pretty sure Arc Trooper Fives was lying when he told him once he visited a world on a body guarding mission with his own Jedi were everything was glittering. He’s not putting any money on it, because Skywalker and his men were guarding the Naboo Senator. From what Cody observes, when Naboo people enter the scene, glitter just happens. He also thinks Fives is much better being Rex’s problem than his own.

Most of their supplies have already been packed for retrieval, so Cody and Obi-Wan only took one hover bike out, and for now Obi-Wan is piloting, Cody behind, and the Commander is beginning to think he made a tactical error. The plastoid of his armour is supposed to stop him from feeling Obi-Wan’s warmth, but Cody could swear he can still feel it. For all that the Jedi can seem aloof and strange, nothing makes him remember his General is flesh and blood than encircling a linen-warped waist with his arms.

 The world passes around them, the colours of the trees, the playful course of the clouds in the sky, the peaceful scenery of a wild world, with its inherent qualities and defaults. Cody likes those worlds better, untouched by sentient life. Growing up in the sterility of Kamino, there is something intoxicating in nature running its course, forests giving way to meadows, biotopes decided by climates and geology, and not by a careful hand arranging them for the maximal profits in their exploitation.

Cody understands about the need for fresh territory, with the growth of population, but certainly, certainly the most carefully hidden part of him insists quite vehemently, there must be another solution than the desolation of grey and pollution that is Coruscant. Something else than seeing the poorest people of the Republic living in deplorable conditions, never seeing the fresh green of a new leaf, as the richest ones can sample the delights of nature in carefully constructed reserves?

More and more, Cody is curious about the Agricorps, and their works to restore degraded biotopes, but he had the vague impression, when he asked questions about it to his General, that it’s a difficult subject for him.

Probably, Obi-Wan wanted to go into the Agricorps and they didn’t want him to, for whatever reasons. Cody thinks it’s more glorious to restore nature and to help feed a community than to go to war, like Obi-Wan is doing right now, or to negotiate treaties, which he vaguely thinks is Obi-Wan’s job in time of peace.

Cody’s thoughts drift gently as the journey continues, going from nature’s beauty to the exact shade of Obi-Wan’s hair when he has been under a natural sun for more than a few hours. The way the copper of it becomes richer and richer…. After a little less than two hours, they switch pilots, and Cody does his best to keep his thoughts on track. It would be stupid to crash just because he’s distracted by a flight of birds taking off with the noise of the bikes, no matter how graceful they are. He concentrates on piloting, and not on the presence of Obi-Wan behind him, his arms around Cody, and not in the colours of the forest around them, and the bucolic impression of their little expedition.

The last known position of their wayward probe put it next to a small lake, four hours away on hover bike, at the base of the mountainous regions. If this part of the world was in winter season, the most logical reason for their missing probe would be a mudslide.  Cody told in his reports time and time again that the probes should fly higher, that the field itself is much less friendlier than believed in the labs, but apparently nobody listens to him.

It’s the end of spring on this part of the planet, the probe was probably eaten by a giant fish, or something equally undignified.

They unseat on a single beach, the last known location. No more probe there than dignity and decency in the Senate. Nothing. No blackened hull of the thing if it had exploded under mysterious circumstances, best known as shoddy work in the conception. Not even a trace they could track back.

Cody turns on himself, surveying the landscape. Vegetation, mountains, peaceful lapping of water on the beach, more mountains with their snowy capes, a lot of weird looking trees. For a vacation, it would be peaceful. For missing military equipment, it’s sadly lacking.

“By incredible luck, you wouldn’t sense our missing flying friend in the Force?” Cody asks, because that would simplify things. That would simplify things, so of course the answer is no. As Obi-Wan struggles with putting together the scanner, Cody gathers pieces of driftwood, intending to start a fire. If they have to circle on foot, on uneven ground, to find the probes, nothing says they can’t do it after another meal next to a warm fire. In the harsh reality of war, Cody has learnt to wisely enjoy the few moments of peace, and he would very much like to teach that skill to his General. Obi-Wan is supposed to have decades of experience in him, but apparently he’s not aware that every sentient has their limits.

Cody is less than twenty meters from the Jedi and the hoverbike, facing Obi-Wan, his arms already full of a nice load when he sees Obi-Wan let go of the scanner, which tumbles on the stones, and turns to him, a hand already at his waist, reaching for his lightsaber.

“Cod-“ Obi-Wan yells, but the sound doesn’t reach Cody, as the stones give way under him, shifting in a dip of grey sand and Cody is gulped down like Master Yoda gobbles a small fish.

For a second, he can’t breathe, there is sand everywhere around him, on his skin, in his mouth, infiltrating his armour by the neck, and the wood in his arms squeeze against his ribs. He feels he’s gonna get crushed alive and he struggles with all his strength. Death has always been the end but he wanted to leave in combat. He can feel unconsciousness threatening and just before it would take him, he’s spit up violently and he rolls over with the momentum, the driftwood, the sand, and a few bits of the armour which didn’t survive the experience.

He can see someone lean over him, no more than a silhouette, because it’s so dark, he can feel the sand under his head, and also the head wound and the blood seeping out of it, and he takes a long breath, and it burns, all the way to his lungs, and then he knows no more.

For a long time, Cody floats. He dreams. Or he hallucinates.

He’s on Kamino again and he learns the world is without mercy for him and his brothers.

He’s training and he can feel Alpha-17’s eyes on him, pensive.

He’s very young and he doesn’t understand where the last of his batche went.

He’s older and he’s meeting his first Jedi, General Tii, and she always has a nice word for every clone, but her eyes are terribly sad every step she takes on Kamino.

He’s meeting Rex and their friendship soars instantly.

He’s seeing brothers dying and he’s seeing rescues and the world is a never ending war, but Cody refuses to let that be the only thing his brothers will know. He watches and he checks and he learns and he places his brothers the best he can, and he’s evaluating Jedi and people, and planets and his mind never stops.

Cody wakes up. General Plo Koon is leaning over him and Cody lets relief seize him, until he realizes something is wrong. No eye covers, no breathing masks, and as much as Cody can see in the very low light, the thick leathery hide acting as skin is much lighter than Plo Koon’s. A Kel Dor, but not the Jedi Master that the Wolffe’s pack would follow to the end of the galaxy and beyond.

After a few seconds of his brain going round in circles, it finally stops at a very important point: Kel Dor and humans don’t breathe the same atmosphere, and this Kel Dor is without breathing apparels. Cody goes to put a hand on his mouth in instinctual movement, like he could stop himself from suffocating, but the other lays a hand on Cody’s forearm, his entire body language non-threatening, and says something he can’t understand. That’s when Cody realizes something translucent is surrounding his head, like a bubble inflating and deflating with every breath he takes. He pokes it, very carefully. It’s flexible, slightly sticky and it smells earthy, a little like those mushrooms his General insisted he try once, when he took him to his friend Dex dinner.

Cody takes a careful breath. He doesn’t die in terrible suffering, so he takes another one. The air entering his lungs still seems appropriate for his species. He tries to sit up, moving very slowly to make the stranger understand he’s not attacking, and the Kel Dor helps him.

Seated, he can better observe the place around him. He has been placed on a pallet of light fur, in some sort of carved place, the walls decorated, not in paint, but in carving, and his armour is against one of the walls, carefully stacked. Cody wants to touch his head, where he was hurt, but once again the Kel Dor stops him before he touches the bubble. The only light comes from a small clay bowl full of sizzling oil, where a wick has been adapted. It doesn’t give enough light to help Cody see more than the small room and a crude overture in the stone, leading to more darkness. He can’t even study perfectly the features of the Kel Dor, more than to be sure it’s definitely not Master Koon.

The Kel Dor says something again and Cody makes a frustrated noise.

“I’m sorry, I don’t speak your language.” The other doesn’t seem to understand that, so Cody tries Mando’a, with the same result. 

He tries the Galactic Sign Language, no results. 

He knows a few signs of the Alderaan Sign Language, the one from their Southern Hemisphere. Queen Organa taught him a few lessons once during a lockdown in the Royal Palace when he was guarding her, between grumbling about clones’s rights and what her husband better do about it in the Senate, and Cody learns fast. The Kel Dor still doesn’t react in any useful way.

“A common language would be pretty useful to know if I’m your guest or your prisoner,” Cody jokes. Sarcasm now. He’s spending too much time with his General.

He shifts, trying to see if he will be stopped from standing, but the other only helps him, carefully arranging on Cody’s torso the ending of the bubble. Now that Cody studies it more attentively, he’s sure the stuff is organic. It’s like they forced his head and the superior part of his torso into some sort of ring of weird looking mushrooms, the mycelium of one of them extended around his head. If this is producing oxygen for him, he really doesn’t want to disturb it.

The world tilts when he stands up but the Kel Dor pushes a shoulder under Cody’s arm and they go out. When Cody passes his armour, he fetches his blaster, and the other doesn’t stop him. Either he doesn’t understand it’s a weapon, or he doesn’t think Cody will attack him. Her? Them? Are Kel Dol gendered beings?

Exiting the small room, Cody can’t see. Everything is dark around them. He can hear movements and the air around him has the quality of an enormous space. A cave, he would think, but the little lamp his new friend has in his claws is not enough.

“Of course,” Cody remarks, “your eyes are much much better. You don’t need a bank of lamps.” He almost jumps when someone joins them and if his head wasn’t still ringing, he probably would have attacked, but it’s only another Kel Dor, smaller, with a skin more brown. They ask something to the first one, but again, there is no sense for Cody.

He’s guided to a stone bench and the little lamp is pushed into his hands. Kel Dor are going in and out of the little circle and Cody tries to evaluate how many of them there are, but he’s, to his great shame, not good enough to distinguish between the Kel Dor easily. He can isolate one or two who have more evident features for a human, like one missing an arm, but the rest of them, all dressed in a very similar way with some furs identical to those Cody woke up on, and the alien features. Cody feels anger against himself. He judges natural borns for not making an effort to distinguish between the vode, despite their efforts to gain their own identity by tattoos or dyes, and he shouldn’t be victim of the same bias.

Finally, someone sits next to him. Cody studies their face, trying to commit them to memory.

 People don’t seem unfriendly. He’s pretty sure the one he woke up with is some sort of local healer, and that it is this one who came back to him several times. Children even come to him, chattering in their language in a way which makes him think of the younger ones on Kamino, before some of their batches started to disappear and they started to understand what their fate in the world would be. A particularly daring little one climbs onto his lap and Cody looks around, ready to see the parent arrive and take its offspring from the strange being. But this community seems so peaceful nobody sees a problem with the child on the stranger's lap.

The little one shows him his treasure, a cube deeply carved with symbols Cody can’t decipher. Of course. In a world without sun, carving must be a medium and painting, or writing, must be inexistent.

“It’s a very nice cube,” he says to the little one, whose gender he can’t decipher. If Kel Dor have gender. He’s pretty sure he heard once that the biggest number of genders registered for a sentient species was eight, and the smaller zero, but he has no idea for this species.

The child seems pretty happy with the answer, even if they can’t understand it any more than Cody can understand their own opinion, expressed in an uninterrupted flow.

Around him, he can vaguely perceive people going about their day. How calm. How reposing. Nevertheless, peaceful or not, Cody can’t breathe the same atmosphere as them, and the strange organic concoction they put on his head to help will soon find its limits. He’s getting thirsty, for once, and he can’t drink without taking the thing off, which he can't. And that’s not even thinking about his General, who must be trying to reach him by any means the Force gives him.

If he knows Cody is alive.

No, no, he must know.

And even if the Force, whose exact limitations Cody is quite unsure of, even if the Force can’t tell Obi-Wan Cody is alive, Obi-Wan is not exactly a man to just go back to the outpost and declare him dead. He will search and search and search, and bring Cody back alive to his vode, or his body for his brothers to honour.

Cody knows: it had been a terrible row between the Jedi on one part and the Kaminoan and the Senate on another, this refusal to abandon dead clones bodies to the elements.

And, to the surprise of the Senate who was in the habits to bully the Jedi for centuries, the Jedi hadn’t budged. But Cody had seen what it had cost them: the Senate had made them pay, in late important reports who the Jedi needed for the war efforts, on refusal of important supplies, suddenly labelled unessential…

So, Obi-Wan is searching for him at the moment, and Cody needs to go to him. The ringing in his head, present since he woke up, has slightly diminished, and he has walked with more grievous wounds.

The question is now: how to mime exit to the Kel Dor, how to ask for a guide? Because if he has to feel around the cave until he finds an exit, he will, but that would be so much easier.

“Hoping there is an exit into your cave, little one,” he says to the child, who is falling asleep on his lap, “because if I have to drill through the roof to the exterior of the planet, it’s gonna cause breathing problems for your city.”

An adult approaches them, a long plaid in their hands, and they mime Cody putting it around his shoulders. Instead, Cody wraps the little one in it and puts the resulting bundle into the adult���s arms.

“I don’t suppose you could send me to the nearest exit?” He asks, and of course, the Kel Dor doesn’t have an answer.

He takes the little lamp and leaves to explore. He can’t see well more than two meters from the circle of light, and even with it, his eyes are struggling.

Soon, he’s stopped by a wall, which he follows until he finds a low door, with only a curtain. He risks an eye, feeling quite voyeuristic, but he only sees something resembling a storage space, big amphoras against a wall.

He continues to follow the wall, finds another one, loses himself in what is a succession of low houses. Above him, the roof of the cavern is still invisible and he can’t see the walls. He finds another little place with stone benches.

Or is it the same?

No, even underground, Cody is sure of his sense of direction. It’s another one place, and the city is bigger than he thought possible. He’s also walking way too slowly, because of the problem of light and his still ringing head.

“Kriff,” he whispers, sitting down on one of the benches.

“Obi-Wan, please find me,” he whispers before scolding himself. He’s no melodrama maiden, he is perfectly capable of finding the surface again by himself.

A burly Kel Dor approaches him, mushrooms in his claws and says something.

“I’m sorry, I can’t understand what you’re saying,” Cody tries to explain. The other sits next to him and gesticulates to the mushrooms helping, he thinks, him to breath, and when Cody doesn’t do anything, he starts placing the ones he brought against the first ones. They seem to merge in a frankly disgusting scene which is probably mushrooms porn.

“Does that mean you need to change them regularly for me to breathe?” Cody asks, despite knowing he won’t receive an answer he can understand.

 To add another problem to the long list Cody is already shouldering on, the cave floor starts to tremble and people start yelling.

People are yelling, and despite the language barrier, Cody can understand the panic with no problems.

The soil beneath his feet grumbles again. There is a sound like a rockslide, and more yells, and terror is the taste at the back of Cody’s throat, because he still can’t kriffin see.

Finally, the trembling is so terrible he’s thrown on his knees and the sound reaches a crescendo as a great light emerges from the rock soil, three hundred meters from where Cody is kneeling. It’s some sort of giant worm, with a maw higher than Cody. It roars and glows even brighter, the bioluminescence of its chitin almost dazzling for Cody himself.

 All around Cody, Kel Dor are yelling and struggling on their feet with great difficulties, as the rock soil is still trembling. The beast roars again and it sounds like a thousand ships taking off at the same time in the confined environment. As Cody is helping a Kel Dor to their feet, the pandemonium reaches an even higher spike as another worm emerges, further than the first, and the quake of the rock sends them flat on their bellies.

Cody really regrets letting Boil distribute his production yesterday, what he wouldn’t give for ten men and a rotary canon right now! Even for Hardcase, who he’s really happy is most of the time Rex’s problem, and his tastes for explosives.

He hoists himself more or less vertical, swearing all he can at the same time. He helps the Kel Dor to their feet again and then assesses the situation.

The lights of the worms let him have a good gaze for the first time at the enormous cavern they are in and the low buildings in it. Behind them he can even see big overtures, probably an entire network of caverns. An entire city in the dark, deep in the soil, protected from the outside world and its atmosphere which the Kel Dor can’t breathe, and from the Republic scanners which never knew they were there.

Protected from the sun, too.

And now that the light has come to them in the form of predators, they are defenceless. Cody can see people trying to flee, with a hand on their eyes, and with no success. By the time Cody has succeeded in approaching the scene of the disaster, at least three Kel Dor have been swallowed.

One of the worms, the closest, roars again and Cody doesn’t lose time: the maw, unprotected by the chitin covering the body, seems like a perfect target.

He raises his blaster and fires.

Another roar, even more deafening, as blood splatters all around in a gorish scene. A good part of the mandible has exploded, but the beast isn’t dead. It strikes, trying to gobble Cody like it did the poor Kel Dor. The difference is that the Commander can see in the light, on the contrary of the first victims. He evades just in time to escape certain death.

He rolls over and raises his blaster a second time, but the angle is worse than the first time, and the shot dampens itself on the chitin with no more effect than darkening it, and enraging the worm even more. 

Again, it tries to kill Cody and the man dances out of range, blessing the hours of training the Jedi gave all of them. It had been the first thing the Jedi had done, because they thought the training the vode had received on Kamino didn’t focus enough on the art of dodging.

Cody never told them it was because the trainers and the Kaminoans thought the vode easily expandable and more useful for a suicide strike. He suspects the Jedi knew, if the way they act around the Kaminoans is proof.

Dodging, advancing, retreating, taking a shot every time he sees an overture, Cody fights, more a reflex than anything, to protect the Kel Dor. He wouldn’t refuse a little help; with spears even if they don’t have other weapons, but the cavern inhabitants are useless. They are not even running away from the worms, full of the terror of death, and the light, which have come in their city.

Nevertheless, the issue of the fight was never a real question. Even hurt and far away from his usual fighting grounds, Cody was bred a warrior and he had honed the skills given to him by his genetic donor all his life. The worm, a female, is in the habit of only fighting other female worms during the mating season for access to the best breeding ponds and to gobble Kel Dor and every animal it could. It never had to fight a sentient being, especially one with a blaster.

The blaster’ shots finally damage the roof of its mouth enough and one of them burns its path to the brain. The beast dies immediately, but the nervous system needs time to receive that message. For a moment, Cody fears the convulsions of the enormous body will cause the entire caves system to collapse on their heads.

When the movements finally stop, he vaults himself over a rock slide, caused by the events, and approaches carefully. The worm is still partially obscured by the rock he emerges from, but Cody can see a good twenty meters of it. He’s bringing back a chitin part to the GAR, because he wants ships protected like that!

A sudden movement to his left makes him turn, but too late. His zoological fascination has caused Cody to make a horrible, rookie mistake, the sort of mistake which makes a rookie never have an occasion to become something other than a rookie.

For a moment, he had forgotten there was a second worm.

He brandishes his weapon, but it’s too late. Only his reflexes save him from being cut in two, but a razor sharp incisor scraps against his armour, parting it like butter and only missing the skin by half a centimetre. The worm has no interest in the Kel Dor, no matter how easy prey they are. It just wants to kill the stubborn little creature who just killed its mother. His blaster clatters on the rock, too kriffin far away. Cody rolls on himself, tries for it, but he already knows it’s too late, when the sound of a lightsaber being ignited announces the arrival of the cavalry, just in time.

Obi-Wan Kenobi arrives on the scene like an armed deux ex machina. He’s wearing Cody’s helmet in order to breath in the cavern and death is burning light-blue in his hand. Rare are the materials which can resist the power of a lightsaber, and Obi-Wan doesn’t take chances with Cody’s life, no matter how he is repelled by the taking of a life, even an animal one. The head of the worm falls on the other side of the body as Obi-Wan is still airborne from one of those improbable jumps Force Sensitive do. The second his feet touch the rock; he’s rushing to Cody, trying to assess his health.

Across the galaxy, Anakin suddenly sits down in the marital bed, sending Padmé, who was asleep across his torso, tumbling into the sheets by the violence of his movements. The vision of a chitinous torso opening, full of meaty juice, dances before his eyes.

“Ani?” The young Senator asks, once he has succeeded in making her put down the blaster she retrieved from even the Force doesn’t know where. Padmé doesn’t do peaceful when she’s woken up abruptly, something he learned quickly in their marriage. Convincing the handmaiden that every noise inside their bedroom wasn’t a murder attempt and that they shouldn’t rush in, weapons drawn, was another interesting adjustment to the married life.

“I just.….I’m not sure…” He tries to grip what woke him up, but it already has disappeared. “I think I’m hungry,” he admits, “sorry to have interrupted your sleep.”

“The droids can make you something,” she suggests, burrowing into the nest of pillows, less prone to sudden shifting.

“Do you think we have insects?” He asks.

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

“Cody! Cody, are you alright?”

“Obi-Wan, General, are you hurt?” Cody and Obi-Wan ask at the same time, hands searching, patting the other bodies in gestures less destined to triage of wounds and more to the simple animal need for contact.

“The air of the cavern isn’t breathable for us,” Obi-Wan says, after a few seconds and Cody nods: “I deduced that, but the thing on my head….it’s helping.”

“How did you deduce such a- Oh, um, hello.”

Around them, the Kel Dor have begun to assemble, all of them an arm on their face, trying to protect their eyes.

“Your lightsaber, turn it off,” Cody says and, making something purr in the Commander’s chest, Obi-Wan immediately obeys, no question, no hesitation.

The Kel Dors guide them away from the scene of the carnage. Cody sees a few of them with stone machetes and axes, already working on taking apart the pale flesh of the worms, working from the wounds Cody and Obi-Wan made, as the chitin is too hard on other places of the big bodies.

Cody watches for a few seconds. One of a Kel Dor yanks open the cranial cavity. Cody turns to the other side very quickly, because butchering enormous worms is apparently more than his battle-hardened stomach can take. Nothing should make the noise an axe makes against flesh.

Cody finds his little lamp again. It’s not even extinguished, the events haven’t probably lasted more than ten minutes. The universe is a hard place, thinks Cody, where he could get eaten by any abomination with too much teeth in less time than an oil lamp runs its course.

They sit next to each other on the closest bench and in the halo of the lamp, Cody inspects his General better. He’s covered in stone dust and whatever else disgusting stuff is on his tunic: he probably crawled his way there.

The adrenaline is still burning through Cody, and joy too, as he turns to his General. On the whole, he misses the days life was simpler on Kamino, with no worms for example, but on Kamino, he never heard the sound of a lightsaber and knew, with a certainty so burning it could have well resonated in the Force, that he was saved. There is comfort, in the hard world he’s living in, in the certainty that his General will tear apart entire solar systems to rescue any clones. That all Jedi would. For a clone, raised to be interchangeable, this strong-willed refusal to leave even one of them behind is a balm to the soul.

“You found me,” he says, and he tries to infuse that with professionalism, and fails miserably.

“I will always find you,” Obi-Wan promises. It’s strange to talk to him like that, with Cody’s helmet on his head. Cody hadn’t realized he relied so much on the Jedi’s face to understand him.

“Yes, sir, but for a moment, I confess I thought you would more, avenge me or something.”

Obi-Wan touches his shoulder.

“I’m sorry to have been so long,” he says, “the system of caves proved itself tricky, and the Force insisted I couldn’t just blow up my way inside.”

“That would let the atmosphere on the outside enter,” Cody theorized, “and I think, our hosts….”

Like they have been summoned, two Kel Dor approach them. They are dressed as simply as all the others Cody has seen, but on the bust of the smaller one, there is some sort of ceremonial pectoral and it has a very big difference with everything Cody has seen since stepping into the cave. It’s in metal.

“Obi-Wan”, Cody whispers, “look at that.”

Obi-Wan doesn’t speak the language more than Cody. He can recognize it’s not the actual principal language of Kel Dor, which he has heard before, but no more than that. Nevertheless, it’s less a problem for a Jedi. He can feel in the Force other’s intentions, enough to understand easily that the people here don’t want to harm them, which Cody had deduced himself hours ago, and that they want to bring them to see something.

Cody is very happy to leave the dead bodies of the worms behind them.

And to  General Skywalker eats insects! Bless the Force that Skywalker is Rex’s Jedi.

One cave. Another. Another one.

“How many are there? How big are these caves?'' Cody asks. He’s tired, hungry, thirsty, and more or less ready to go back to camp, thank you very much.

They find a ship, or more, the skeleton of a ship, in the last part of the caves system, the deepest one. It’s less a cave, and more the memory of a crash. The ship has been cannibalized, years after years, of everything useful, to the latest scrap of metal, except for the framework.

“It was probably made with a metal too dense for the meagre set of tools they have,” Obi-Wan theorizes.

“I can’t recognize the type of  ship that is, the form itself is so strange,” Cody remarks, watching it with the eye of a man trained to recognize enemy and ally ships in a nano second in the middle of battle. Obi-Wan is touching the metal with his bare skin, with great reverence.

He always loved old things, his Jedi.

The happiest Cody had seen him was for a protection mission in a dusty archive, on a faraway world. General Skywalker was with them, and the young Ahsoka too, and the intel had been faulty. There had been no attack, Obi-Wan had had his Padawan and GrandPadawan close and safe, and spent his days making amorous noises at poetry treaties centuries old.

“It’s incredibly old. Probably before the foundation of the Republic."

"But that’s….that’s old as kriff."

"During the first time of space travel, ships weren’t as reliable. They probably are the descendants of a crew of explorers. After the crash, staying inside the caves was the only long-term possibility for them, if they hadn’t the means to produce enough respiratory apparatuses. It was the only way to survive for them.  Nevertheless, it stopped anyone from finding them. And little by little, they regressed technically and lost the way to contact the outside."

"Do you really think they would have travelled from their world without a way to breath on other planets?"

"Perhaps it was stocked in a part of the ship lost during the crash. Perhaps it was so long ago, it was long before the Kel Dor knew very few worlds have an atmosphere breathable for them…Every species has the tendency to think the world at large tailored for them.”

They don’t leave immediately. Obi-Wan is of the opinion that Cody is too tired to use the path he himself used to find him. And he’s probably right. Cody’s head is throbbing where he hurt it during his fall, but he doesn’t see how he could get better here, where he can’t eat or drink.

What follows is a game of mime between Obi-Wan and the Kel Dors which Cody won’t forget, ever, no matter how much Obi-Wan asks, and he regrets he doesn’t have a holocamera.

After a time, and an unforgettable time it was, Obi-Wan and he find themselves stashed in a little room, so low they can’t stand. It’s more a bed stuffed inside some sort of structure made in the same weird-looking, weird-smelling mushrooms. Cody takes off the bubble around his head and Obi-Wan takes off Cody’s helmet.

The red head has the worst case of helmet’s hair Cody has seen, ever and Cody can’t stop an unprofessional laugh around his first mouthful of fresh water.

“I don't Not a head made for helmets, do I?” the Jedi smiles, as he tore in two a strange looking loaf of bread.

They fall on the food, famished, and tease each other at the same time. There is water and what Cody thinks is some root vegetables, and flatbread, and some meat he isn’t touching with a ten foot pool, just in case it's giant worm.  

“If you swear to wear armour instead of linen in battle, I swear to the Force I will never mock your hair,” Cody smiles in return, and Obi-Wan makes a face, like he did already wear good, solid protection instead of tunic and leggings and whatever he calls the multiple layers of his Jedi’s clothes.

“I thought….for a moment, I thought…” Obi-Wan stops. It’s rare to see him lost for words, he of the Silver tongue, the Negotiator.

“I’m not dead,” Cody reiterates, because there is no need to beat around the bush. Even risking their lives every day the Force makes, nobody likes the kick of adrenaline when one of your men is missing. It never becomes normal. It never should.

“And yet, for a second I thought you were. When I saw the earth opening under your feet and gobbling you. And when I arrived during your battle, the Force trumpeting in my heart about the mortal danger you were running to.”

“The Kel Dor were pretty useless against those things. Couldn’t let them get eaten like that. Not when they rescued me and helped me.”

“I know. I know. And I would have done exactly the same thing.”

Obi-Wan sits on the bed, less gracefully than he usually does. From where he’s leaning against the mushroom wall, Cody stares. He can see the lines around his mouth, and after his late-night conversation with Master Quinlan Vos, he knows they aren’t from laughing. He can see the lines at the edges of the eyes, discreet for now, a little more present every day. He can see the first traces of grey on the temples, simply a trace of silver in the red mane…. He’s, almost, sure there was no grey at the beginning of the war, he has seen the holos of Obi-Wan against Prime, against Jango, all those years ago, on Kamino.

Obi-Wan is burning too bright, burning himself.

And Obi-Wan isn’t the only one not getting younger. The accelerated aging isn’t exactly good for Cody’s health, starting with his knees.

One day, he won’t be quick enough for the next giant, bioluminescent man-gobbling worm. Or Obi-Wan will be too tired against Grievous. Since they met, an assignment Commander- General decided by Alpha-17 himself, their life has been full of Separatist assassins, murderous fauna, Sith assassins, murderous geology, Separatist assassins pretending to be Sith assassins, and Sith assassins pretending to be Separatists assassins, brain-washed murderous Senators, murderous flora, murderous black holes, and one time a murderous sentient ship.

The whole galaxy is conspiring to kill clones and Jedi, for what Cody can see.

If his math is right, he survived today the sixty-third attempt on his life from Fate since he left Kamino. Obi-Wan was there for most of them, and Cody was around for the latest attempts on Obi-Wan’s life.

And one day, it will stop.

Cody opens his mouth before he can talk himself out of it. Life is short and he’s a soldier slave, he doesn’t have the luxury to wait for another time.

“I think I’m falling in love with you,” he says, and Obi-Wan looks like he has been whacked on the skull with a heavy object. It’s not exactly his best face, mouth round in surprise, and Cody only feels affection. Then Obi-Wan’s lips curve into a smile like a sun, blinding, warm, and the Jedi touches the side of Cody’s face.

The Jedi touches the side of Cody’s face.

He doesn’t speak. Not yet. His head against Cody, his breath sharing Cody’s own air, they close their eyes, and Cody experiences the strange idea that he’s detaching himself from his brothers.

For the first time, there is something in his hands, or well, in his heart, that he doesn’t want to share with Wolffe or Boil, or even Rex, who has become his closest brother.

He doesn’t want to hide Obi-Wan from them, but he wants….

He hasn’t the words. Not yet.

But, with Obi-Wan at his side, he hopes he will learn them.

And he hopes his brothers too can find something, or someone, so precious they need to share the joy of knowing it, but also to keep it to themselves, like he wants to keep to himself the smile of Obi-Wan when Cody tells “I love you”, or the small freckles at the side of his mouth, visible only so, so, so close.

The first “I love you” Cody hears from Obi-Wan is whispered against his lips.

The first kiss tastes of the bread offered by the Kel Dor, of the cave’s dust and it’s perfect.

They’re still in the same situation, two exhausted men, in a cave full of toxic gases, only protected from them by some unknown mushrooms exuding oxygen, and Cody feels like he could take over the entire Republic. He sleeps curved around Obi-Wan, like two parts of the same whole, touching as much as they can, and if the headache from his head wound brings Cody to the surface a few times during their nap, he feels rejuvenated after it.

After, the Kel Dor help them find the surface and Cody and Obi-Wan leave their new friends, hand in hand, quite happy to find back the sun and the sky, the fresh air of a late morning…and almost all their men crawling around their area, trying desperately to find them.

Obi-Wan keeps Cody’s hand in his and a few brothers less intimidated than others by Cody’s glare, embarrassed and proud at the same time, even bumped their big brother’s shoulders as a sign of congratulation. Obi-Wan immediately goes red, like he’s a teen on his first crush, and not a seasoned Jedi Master whose touch can bring life or death. 

Cody finds it adorable. 

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

It’s the middle of the night shift on the Negotiator, but Cody is still working on a different time zone, so he lets Obi-Wan sleep peacefully in their shared bunk. Their shared bunk! A notion that still makes him giddy like a shiny at their first kiss, even a month after getting together. They are taking things pretty slow, or in the wrong order, Cody isn’t sure, they sleep in the same bunk every night, but haven’t got very far in term of sex, and this perfect, because this is them, and not some sort of artificial list of relationship’s milestone. And Cody already knows, deep in his soul, that he will never love a man like he loves this one, even if Obi-Wan is killed tomorrow, and he’s sure it’s the same for Obi-Wan. 

The Negotiator is in route to join with the Steadfast, so General Koth is on board after a conjoined mission where Obi-Wan and him gave Cody new grey hairs. He finds him easily in the mess, demolishing a healthy serving. The stamps outside the rations are a different colour than the ones Cody and his brothers eat.

“Can I join you?” Cody asks.

“Of course,” Eeth Koth immediately answers and the chair on the other side of the table moves on its own, offering itself for the Commander. Cody arches a brow.

“Don’t tell Obi-Wan,” the General jokes, “or I will endure a lesson for frivolous use of the Force.”

Cody sits and they stay silent for a moment, the General apparently happy to let him come to his questions in peace, continuing to eat his meal. Despite being tailored for a different species’ nutritional needs, it looks exactly as unappetizing as most rations Cody is used too. 

“General Ke-“

“You can call him Obi-Wan in front of me,” Eeth Koth interrupts. “There is no need to be ashamed of what binds you.” He grimaces. “Force knows we will all need all the comfort we can get before everything is set and done in this war.”

“Obi-Wan and I, we had a bit of an adventure, last month.”

“From what I heard, you have a lot of them.”

“Yes but….it was…it was the first time I was around civilians. Normal people, I mean.”

“Not Jedi and not clones, you mean?”

“Yes.”

“Putting apart the fact that you are normal people, and that we are too, that it is a slippery slope to consider us different, because then the rights…”

“I know you’re fighting for us in the Senate. I know. That isn’t the question…I just mean. They were civilians. Even more civilian than usual. I have only met natural borns who are Jedi and Senators and politicians or some sort of official. This was different. And I realized how little we know about the world outside the GAR. And how little we know about societies, and species who aren’t us. They raised us for war only…” Cody was almost trembling with it. Eeth Koth put a comforting hand on his wrist and Cody continued:

“Obi-Wan, I don’t want Obi-Wan to become my teacher. It’s not his role. But if we want to have a chance outside the war, us, the vode, we need to learn about the outside world. I wanted to ask you if there was something…a way…”

Eeth Koth had totally abandoned his meal and Cody could feel the weight of his gaze, the same gaze as Obi-Wan, transcending their species.

“Let me call a few people,” the Jedi said.

**********

Years later, Cody thinks a lot about that moment. Eeth Koth joined the Force during the war and Cody has to remember this moment for the two of them, this simple moment around a table, this moment which became one of the tipping point of his life. Not the too numerous almost-death, not the many battles, not even his first kiss with his dear Obi-Wan. This moment, in Cody’s mind, is the one which changed his fate. 

Eeth Koth died not even two months after that, one among a lot of Jedi who gave their life, alongside the vode, for a chance for the galaxy and its people. Not that people are particularly thankful about it: the discovery of the Sith engineering the two sides of the conflict rocked the easy confidence of the Republic in the solidity of its system.

Democracy is never forever, if people don’t work for it.

No, democracy is only saved for now, and never will it be saved forever and ever. But that shock to the system is treated by the most intelligent of the bunch like a chance to seize. All across the reunited Republic people are working hard, entering politics, creating organizations to teach the population, to hold those in power accountable…. 

It’s a sad thing so many vode, jedi and civilians had to die and suffer for that. It’s even sadder to think it didn’t almost happen. The Republic almost burned, the Sith almost won, the beloved former Padawan of Obi-Wan Kenobi almost helped murder Mace Windu, Master of the Order...Mace Windu isn’t exactly the type to hold a grunge, but Obi-Wan still needed months after that to stay in his presence, the guilt that should have eaten Anakin transfered. 

Honestly, if Obi-Wan forgave Anakin much too quickly, and Windu too, the vod needed a much longer time. Skywalker had almost helped the man who had engineered them as slave soldiers, the man who would have wiped out their free will, the poor part of it they still had. The vod had needed a long time to forgive, and would never forget, but Cody still has the desagreable impression Rex’s anger is a most important consequence in Skywalker’s mind that the almost death of the democratic system and the almost rise of a dictatorship. 

Sometimes, late in the night, Obi-Wan stays awake, something lost in his eyes than mediation never totally makes disappear, and Cody is sure that day figures in a good part in his dark thoughts. 

Obi-Wan, and Cody too, think about what could have been. If Cody hadn’t been there that day, in the Temple, who would have been in charge of keeping an eye on Skywalker in the Council Room? No one, that who. Because Skywalker was a Council member, if a very fresh one, and there wasn’t on hand a Jedi Master with enough years to take a look at a Council Member and decide he needed baby-sitting. All those Masters were deployed, or in beds in the halls of healing. But Cody, Cody was there, and since he and his General had become an item, he had taken sometimes to act, despite what his logical brain told him, not like a soldier Anakin could order around, but like an exasperated step-father. Exasperated and concerned, as the war advanced and Anakin seemed less and less attached to his morals. 

 Who would have followed him to the Senate when Skywalker had refused to wait anymore, and tackled him at the last minute? Who would have stopped Anakin Skywalker from doing something as tremendously stupid as to save a Sith pitted against Mace Windu?

And all of that had been possible because Jocasta Nu had taken the first excuse she could to keep Cody on Coruscant that month. A well-known linguist was visiting for a series of talks, and she thought he could be a good professor for Cody, and more importantly that well-know linguist had enough political power to obtain permission for a clone following his courses.

And the Republic had lived, because Cody loved linguistics, or more because he had loved the little he understood of it at the time.

But Cody refuses to let the horrors of those years of war, and his terrible first years on Kamino, define him. He prefers to think, again and again, to that moment with Eeth Koth.

Cody didn’t know exactly what he wanted. His accelerated childhood, raised for war and war only, hadn’t given him the words for it. He just knew that for his brothers and he to have a chance after the war, they needed more. Or even more terrible horrors would certainly befall them. Soldiers without wars aren’t useful anymore, and tools with no use are only fated to be dismantled for parts.

Following Eeth Koth’s call, Jocasta Nu and her assistants had descended on the GAR with determination, great efficiency and anger that they hadn’t thought about that themselves. By dint of foraging the Jedi Archives, and every friendly archives of the galaxy, for legal precedent to help the Vode, they had forgotten all answers weren’t found between the terabytes of a datapad.

Master Nu is seated right next to Obi-Wan in the public and trying very hard to pretend her eyes aren’t misty, as Cody receives his diploma, earning himself the title of Doctor in linguistics, for his work with the forgotten Kel Dor city, right next to the first Kel Dor of said city to have made the jump to Coruscant.

Cody isn’t the first clone to finish his thesis. Not surprising:  he left the GAR years later than some of them, refusing to leave before his lover, who had been pressed into service as long as the Senate could justify it, and even longer. With Anakin leaving the Jedi Order, Obi-Wan was certainly the most famous member of it for the public, and it was as if the Senate tried to make him pay the Jedi’s refusal to abandon the vode. But Cody was the first clone Jocasta Nu talked with, when she arrived to try to help the vode not in pleading that they shouldn’t be slave soldiers, but in demonstrating they were so much more.

Cody wasn’t the first clone to leave the GAR officially, that honour went to Rex who followed Ashoka to Orto Plutonia, the first clone to be officially accepted as a member of the Jedi Corps. For what Cody understands, his life consists of almost losing his toes ten times a month, hunting with the Taz and flirting desperately with every passing skirts, as Ahsoka flirts desperately with her own Senator and supervises Republic-Taz contacts. Obi-Wan and Cody went once during permission, and Cody swore to himself that the next time Rex and Ahsoka wanted to see them, it could be on a tropical atoll.

Cody wasn’t the first clone to find a job outside of the Jedi orbit. That honour went to Fives and Tup, who left together and chose the most pacifist world they could. “We were almost separated once, never again. I’m not touching a weapon again in my life” Fives had said to Cody that day, watching Tup, busy hugging Rex, with something ferociously possessive in his eyes. Now, they have a nursery of succulent plants on a small island, in the south hemisphere of Alderaan, and Cody still isn’t sure if they are the best friends in the world, or one of those pairs who took brothers in a quite different sense, and frankly, he doesn’t care. There is a small potted thing they sent as a gift on Cody’s desk, with red undertones and white flowers once a year, but the former Commander has a black thumb, and only Obi-Wan’s careful nursing in the Force saved the poor thing already thrice.

Cody wasn’t the first clone to enter academia, that honour went to Waxer, who now teaches mathematics on Mandalore and is busy reintroducing Fett’s genes into the population with a long string of ex-partners, who still like him very much and with who he raises an army of children, at least three of them bearing a name honouring Waxer.

Cody wasn’t the first clone to marry, that honour went to Jesse and Cody isn’t touching that choice of spouse with a ten-foot pool.

Cody wasn’t the first in a lot of things. But it’s ok. He doesn’t have to lead his brothers anymore. He doesn’t have to bear responsibilities for death and help who didn’t come, and for the horrors that were their life.

The vode are free and Cody can only be a brother like any other.

He can be only Obi-Wan’s husband, even if Obi-Wan jokes that now, it’s more him that will be only the husband of Doctor Cody Kenobi, his arm candy in gatherings.

[gorogues]

Fictober 2021

Prompt number #3 Fanfiction Fandom: Flash Rogues Rating: PG-13 Warnings: Mind control

Day Three: “I’ve waited for this.”

Roy takes a deep breath to calm his nerves, and smiles. Is this really happening?  It’s happening, and he couldn’t be more ecstatic. His first major gallery showing, and the cream of society is in attendance to see his triumph firsthand. The mayor, city council, and even the state governor put in a brief appearance to score political points at such a high-class event.  And of course all the respected movers and shakers in the art world are mingling in the crowd and gawking at his work, barely containing their envy at his success.

“Bivolo!  Congrats!” Len gushes, enthusiastically shaking his hand.  “I knew you could do it.  We all did!”

“Thank you,” Roy replies modestly, smiling.  “It means a lot that you guys came to this, and that you even care.  I didn’t think you would.”

“Of course we do!” Mick grins, and suddenly all the Rogues are standing around them, congratulating the artist on his greatest accomplishment.  Roy feels as though he could burst with happiness, and then a delicate hand clasps his.

“I’m so proud of you, honey,” Monica says softly, and Roy blinks in surprise.  His wife? Oh yes, his wife Monica Mayne-Bivolo, the glamourous movie star.  He’d forgotten about her somehow, but now he hugs her tightly.

“So glad to have you with me,” he tells her in a loving tone as she gazes at him with obvious pride.  “I’ve waited for this.”

“Then let’s go out there and get some applause for the man of the hour!” Len orders everyone.  Roy puts one arm around Monica’s shoulders and one arm around Len’s, and the group treks to the main gallery room where the intelligentsia await him.

***

Roy twitches and grunts, eyes shut.  “Thank you, thank you all.  Glad to have you here,” he mumbles.  His eyes flutter open and close again, but see nothing.

“I’m losing him,” Grodd mutters, increasing the intensity of his effort, and Luthor scowls at them both.  He can already see the plan slipping out of their grasp.

“I don’t need to tell you what’s at stake here,” Lex tells him coldly.  “Either you keep his emotional manipulation powers under control, or we lose our hold on the entire United States.”

“I am aware,” Grodd grumbles in a fury, concentrating with all the energy he can muster.  A smile spreads across Roy’s face and his posture relaxes as he slips in deeper.

“This is the greatest day of my life!” he declares joyfully, lost in the illusion.

[elenamiria]

School’s in Session

Cobb Vanth x Reader

Rating: 16+ (I make up my own ratings at this point oh well) Summary: You, the teacher at the school in Mos Pelgo approaches Cobb to ask him for a favor - helping teach you how to protect yourself and the children if needed. When he goes above and beyond the call of duty you find yourself falling for the charming Marshal. Fic for @wolfangelwings​ for the 600 follower giveaway! (It turned out a bit more fluffy than spicy I hope you don’t mind 🥺) Word Count: 1.5k Warnings: Kissing, suggestive talk, fluff, gn!reader Masterlist &Tags (send an ask or message me if you’d like to be added):  @a-dorin​ @blxwjobsforclones​ @lynnie51​ @katrynec​ @mistermiraclee​ @theelvenvalkyrie​ @anakinswhore​

When you had been asked to take over as the teacher you had been surprised. Having been living and working as a moisture farmer with your family you had little idea why they picked you. However, it was the previous teacher, who had decided he was far too old to continue making the long trek from school to village each day, who recommended you as you had been his star student years ago. Retaining your sharp wit and thirst for knowledge had been easy with such a supportive family, who had always encouraged you to pursue greater things if you so chose but Mos Pelgo was your home and you couldn’t see that changing anytime soon. 

When you accepted the position the whole town was elated, you couldn't go anywhere without someone stopping to quip on how lucky they were to have you, always causing your face to heat and a quiet ‘thank you’ to flow from your mouth. It took several long months of training before you were ready to take on the role, with it being such a small town you were in charge of a wide age range of children and learning how to balance all of their learning at once was quite a challenge. It was something that you quickly found great joy in however. The second facet of your job was the safety of all the children. The school had been relocated a ways out from the village after it was freed from the Mining Collective in order to protect the most precious inhabitants of the village. 

So, every morning you gathered up all the children and made the trek to the school and every afternoon you would make the journey back, ensuring each child returned home safely. It was an easy routine to fall into and never one you worried about until the Tusken Raiders attacked. Even then you weren’t necessarily worried about the Tusken Raiders themselves it was the thought that you were taking some of the most vulnerable on the same path everyday at the same time and you worried a group like the Mining Collective could use that against the village. With that thought in mind you did the most logical thing you could think of and asked the Marshal to train you. 

Cobb had listened to your concerns and took a pause to think about the situation before he spoke, “How bout this, I’ll train you to use a blaster. But I’ll do you one better, as long as I’m free I’ll make the hike with you to and from the school.”

You had eagerly agreed feeling a weight off your shoulders and true to his word the very next day he was up waiting outside your house bright and early. There was something about him still blinking away the sleep from his eyes as he barely held onto his helmet that had you smiling like a fool at him, taken aback by the cuteness of it. You offered him a soft, “Good morning Marshal.”

He gave you a groggy smile before speaking, voice gruff from sleep, “Good Mornin’ teach’, and just Cobb is fine by me.”

The nickname had another smile covering your face and as you started the rounds of gathering the children up the two of you fell into an easy banter. You found it easy around Cobb, he was easy to talk with, easy to laugh with, and he was certainly easy on the eyes (not that you'd ever dare admit that to him). And the two of you fell into this rhythm each morning and each afternoon, and on the weekends when there wasn't any school he would meet up with you to train you on how to use a blaster. At first you had been nervous, scared of somehow letting him down, though he reassured you constantly and perhaps you let your stance falter occasionally just to have him come up behind you to adjust it. 

Falling for Cobb had never been part of the plan but like everything else it happened easily, the smiles he'd shoot you, the slight drawl in his words, and the way he seemed to relish in flustering you - always quipping about how pretty you looked or how your skin glowed under the Tatooine suns.  After months of this back and forth it became clear to you and the Marshal that your feelings both ran deeper than friends. However with your shy nature Cobb assumed if anyone was going to make a move it was going to have to be him, something that he was more than alright with. 

It happened on a day when school wasn't in session, you had gone up to the school building having forgotten some papers there that needed grading. Once you arrived you decided to stay there and take care of it, considering how hot the day was you were keen to stay inside for as long as possible. Lost in your work you barely noticed how much time had passed until a certain someone came strolling into the building. Looking up from your work you gave him a warm smile as you teased, "I don't know if you've noticed but school's not in session today sheriff." 

Cobb laughed lightly as he approached your table at the front, sending you a dashing smirk in response, "I don't know if you've noticed darlin' but I'm here for your lesson."

Your face creased in confusion for just a moment before the realization struck you that far more time must have passed than you thought and that you were late for your appointment with the Marshal. Shooting out of your seat you stammered out an apology as you hastily gathered up your things and started to scurry around to front of the desk where Cobb was standing. You had moved so quickly he had no time to tell you that it was fine and before he could blink you were before him, his hands found your waist as he stopped your movements with a short, "Whoa there darlin' you don't need to rush on account of me, I wasn't here to scold you."

When his warm palms settled on you it was as if all coherent thought flew from your head and you blinked rapidly as your breathing hitched. Staring rather blankly at him all you could manage to spit out was a short, "You weren't?"

Laughing again, and unintentionally causing your face to heat, Cobb shook his head - "No, I figured you were busy up here and so I came to keep you company teach'."

His words filtered through your hazy brain, he was there to spend time with you? Just you? Your eyes flickered down to his lips which were curved in his signature style and before you could stop yourself or even really think through the decision you were leaning forwards to press your lips to his. It took only a second for the Marshal to respond eagerly to you, his hands squeezing your waist and causing a short whine to leave your throat as your lips moved together. Your hands abandoned the papers you were holding, allowing them to flutter to the ground, in favor of grasping onto his shoulders as the kiss heated. His scruff scratched at your face delightfully and you opened up to him eagerly when he nipped at your bottom lip. You hadn't even noticed that the two of you were moving backwards until your legs bumped into your desk, a startled squeak leaving your mouth as you broke apart. Eyes sliding open you stared at Cobb for just a moment before both of you shared in a sweet laugh, wide grins adorning each of your faces. Biting your lip you looked down shyly before meeting his eyes again and whispering, "Well, that was nice."

"I'd say more than nice teach' and I'd be more than happy to do that again if you find yourself so inclined." He said, voice faltering only slightly as he regained his composure. Another smile covered your lips as the fact that he wanted to kiss you more sunk in and your eyes shone with happiness as you questioned, "You wanna kiss me again Marshal?"

His eyes narrowed playfully as he urged you up on your desk, your hands shoving things out of your way as you sat on it and you innocently spread your legs to make room for him to stand close to you. Cobb's hands settled on your upper thighs, though not inappropriately but you'd be lying if you said it didn't set your heart racing, and he near growled out - "Oh, I wanna do a whole lot more than kissing darlin' but I'll let you take the lead on this. Whatever you wish is my command."

You shook your head at his playful words, your hands exploring his chest and the nape of his neck as you shot him a light smirk, "Hmm, I think what I wish for right now Cobb, is another kiss from you if you'd be so kind."  

His breath noticeably hitched at this and he leaned forwards, teasing at your lips with a whisper of 'as you wish' before capturing your lips with his once again.