#i got tired of tagging planets and i said aloud:

[duhragonball]

[FIC] Luffa: The Legendary Super Saiyan (51/?)

Disclaimer: This story features characters and concepts based on Dragon Ball, which is a trademark of Bird Studio/Shueisha and Toei Animation.   This is an unauthorized work, and no profit is being made on this work by me. This story is copyright of me. Download if you like, but please don’t archive it without my permission. Don’t be shy.

Continuity Note: About 1000 years before the events of Dragon Ball Z.

Previous Chapters conveniently available here

[20 May 236 Before Age.  Interstellar Space.]

"How are you feeling?"

"Like--ow!-- like a damned fool.  Where's Zatte?"

Luffa swung her feet off the bed and tried to stand up, but suddenly every muscle in her body seemed to cry out in pain.  She paused and forced herself to remain calm. She glanced up at the ceiling of the Emerald Eye's sickbay, then back down to Dr. Topsas.  

"Isn't this the part... where you tell me to take it easy?" she asked.

"Would you have listened to me if I had?" Topsas replied.  "I find my Saiyan patients prefer to find things out the hard way."

"Don't tell me," Luffa said.  "Delayed onset muscle soreness.  I pushed my body harder than I have in my whole life, then I've been stuck in this bed for who knows how long."

"I know how long, little mammal," Topsas said.  "Three days.  Although you got up and walked around at least four times during that period, so 'stuck in bed' seems a poor choice of words."

"I sort of remember that..." Luffa said.  "Three days...?  Didn't seem that long... What kind of sedatives were you giving me, Doc?"

He began to list a number of chemical compounds, and she cut him off.  "By now, all this muscle pain ought to be long gone," she said.  "The lactic acid buildup should have washed out of my system a long time ago."

"That is a common misconception about muscle soreness," Topsas said.  "It is true that the body metabolizes lactates to compensate for insufficient oxygen during strenuous activity.  This produces lactic acid in the muscles, which, as you say, is eventually excreted from the body.  However, the *soreness* is caused by micro-trauma damage to the muscles themselves.  The pain should subside as the damage is repaired, but as you said, this level of strain is quite unprecedented."

She tried to stand again, but much more gingerly than before.   Topsas reached out to steady her, but she waved him off.  

"Thanks, Doc, but this pain and me are old buddies," she said.  "It's more intense than ever before, but I know how to deal with it."

"I thought you might say that," he said.  "You suffered some tendon damage in your shoulder, multiple contusions, and three broken ribs.  These have been repaired, but will likely be sore for several more days.  I can give you painkillers if you choose, but these will make you drowsy."

Luffa tested her shoulder carefully and winced as she tried to raise her arm.  "Got it," she said.  "Anything else?"

"I cannot rule out delayed-onset ki disorder," he said.  

She found a set of clean clothes on the tray table next to her bed.  "Figured you were coming to that."

"Your ki powers may malfunction if you attempt to use them," he added. "That would be dangerous enough on a planet, but here on a spaceship--"

"I get the idea, Doc," Luffa said wearily.  "Right now I barely feel up to walking.  I bet even you could whip me in a fight right now.  You know.  If you wanted to."

"Perish the thought," Topsas said.  

"Come on," Luffa said, managing a weak smile.  "You never once wanted to smack the taste out of my mouth?  I know I'm a pretty crappy patient.  You'd never get a better chance.  Not that I’d roll over for you.  I’m weak, but I’d still make you work for it."

"You really want that, don't you?" Topsas said quietly.  "On some level, you truly view everyone around you as a sparring partner."

She snorted.  "I'm just pulling a few of your legs, Doc," she said, somewhat unconvincingly.  She pulled a black shirt over her head and winced from the effort.  

"Perhaps," he said, regarding her carefully.  "But I think you see fighting as something more than a way to resolve a conflict.  And it bothers you that you cannot share that with someone like me."

"Aw, you're reading too much into it," Luffa said.  

"I heal wounds, little mammal.  To inflict them would be counterproductive.  A waste of my already underrated talents."

"I know."

"I am honored by your invitation nonetheless."

"You don't have to get all mushy, Doc," Luffa said.  She sat back down on the bed and started sliding her yellow pants over her feet.  "If you don't want to take a poke at me, I understand.  I healed a bird with my powers once or twice, and it felt kind of goofy, like I was doing your thing instead of mine."

"Of course," Topsas said.  

"Zatte's okay, isn't she?" Luffa asked.  "I remember her being there with me on Wist, and bringing me back to the ship, but that's about it."

"She wasn't hurt," Topsas said.  "Although she may be--"

"Good, I need to ask her something," Luffa said.  She made her way to the door and hobbled out into the corridor before Topsas could finish.  

*******

"So that's where we're going?" Keda said as she pointed to the star chart displayed on the screen.  

"Right," Luffa said.  "It's safe, uninhabited, out of the way, and there's a decent spaceport about a dozen light years away.  And it's close to the galactic center, so we're less than three weeks out from anywhere we decide to go next."

The Dorlun girl stroked her chin and regarded the chart like a seasoned military advisor, which wasn't altogether ridiculous, given her recent work in the Wist/Federation War.  Marshall Booth had even offered her a job, though he had no idea that he was getting sound tactical advice from an eleven-year-old.  

"Where'd you find this place, Luffa?" she finally asked.  

"I bought it," Luffa said.  

This shocked Keda, since she had been handling Luffa's finances for over a year.  "When?" she asked.

"Around the time we started up the Federation," Luffa said.  She was trying to get comfortable in the seat beside the captain's chair, and wasn't having much luck.  "Listen, can we get back to--?"

"Where'd you get that kind of money?!" Keda asked.

"From the mercenary work we did last year," Luffa said.  "What'd you think I did with my share of the profits?"

"Savings account?" Keda guessed.

"We were getting paid way more money than we ever needed," Luffa said, "even after you figure expenses.  I decided I could use a place to go in an emergency, like if the Federation didn't pan out.  So I contacted a broker and got in touch with a crew that charts the Core Worlds.  Got a good deal too, because I paid cash up front.  Also, the environment is kind of harsh.  It's fine around the equator, but everywhere else is pretty rough, which scares of the usual buyers.  All they ever want is a private vacation retreat, and this planet doesn’t suit that idea at all."

"You actually made a contingency plan," Keda said.  "I'm impressed, Luffa."

The Saiyan tapped the side of her head.  "I've got a little something in here besides muscle," she said.  "Which is good, because right now it's the only part of me that isn't sore.  Now can we get back to Zatte?"

"What's there to get back to?" Keda asked with a shrug.  "You saw me run the sensor sweep over the whole ship. It says she's not on board."

"Dammit, Keda, she didn't just open an airlock and jump out into space," Luffa said.  

"Of course not," Keda said.  "But you know how her powers work."  The Dorlun concentrated for a moment and suddenly Luffa was sitting beside a near-perfect copy of herself.  Keda was taller, her skin had changed from blue to beige, her hair from long and red to short and black, and a tail had sprouted from the base of her spine.  

Luffa was unimpressed.  "Will you stop showing off and help me?" she grumbled.  

"If I scanned the bridge right now," Keda said in an approximation of Luffa's voice, "some of the sensors would be fooled into thinking there's two Saiyan women in here.  That's because my powers let me imitate enough of your features to trick the computer.  But my vital signs and internal organs wouldn't quite check out, and the rest of the sensors would pick up on that.  They might not recognize me as Dorlun, but they'd conclude I wasn't a real Saiyan."

She concentrated again and willed her hair to stand on end and turn yellow.  "I can even look like you as a Super Saiyan, but when I transform, it's just a color change.  I can't put out the kind of energy you do, so anyone with ki sensitivity wouldn't be fooled."

"You forgot the tail," Luffa muttered, glancing down at the furry appendage now draped over Keda's lap.  The fur was still brown.  

"Oh, whoops," Keda said with a sheepish grin.  "The point is that Zatte's powers are completely different from mine.  She can refract electromagnetic radiation around her body, so the sensors can't detect her at all.  Same goes for ki energy, which is why we can't sense her that way."

"I know all of that," Luffa said.  "That was how she snuck up on me and Kandai on Planet Wist.  I could smell her once she was close enough, but by then it was too late to matter."  She leaned back in the chair and grimaced.  "Can't the ship's sensors pick up those trace chemicals in the air?  Or, maybe... I don't know... you'd think her footsteps on the deckplate would register."

"We didn't pay for those kinds of features," Keda said.  "When we upgraded the yacht's defenses, we figured we wouldn't need to worry about intruders as much as hostile vessels."

"Right," Luffa said.  "We thought no one would be dumb enough to come on board and risk dealing with me face-to-face.  Except Zatte's turned that whole idea on its ear, right?  She kidnapped me right under your nose.  Then she hijacked the ship, forced you to come to Planet Wist after I told her not to follow me.  Now this."

"Look, she wasn't herself when she kidnapped you," Keda said.  "And she took over the ship to help you."

"I know, I know," Luffa said, "but I get tired of her out-maneuvering me like this.  Bad enough I got my butt caved in by that Shockmaster clown, now I have to figure out why she's playing hide-and-seek.   I just needed to ask her something--"

"Well that's easy," Keda said.  "I can turn on the ship's public address system, and she'll hear you from anywhere on board."

Luffa glared at Keda like she had two heads.  "It's personal, all right?" she said testily.  

"Okay, okay.  I'm only trying to help--"

"Well, help me find her, would you?"

"All right.  Take it easy."

Luffa sighed and rubbed the bridge of her nose.  "Why would she be hiding, anyway?" she asked.  "Was it something I said?"

"Do you remember what you did when you changed our course?" Keda asked.  

"No," Luffa said.  "Honestly, I barely even remember doing it.  I guess those drugs Doc gave me really did a number on me."

"Well, you were pretty upset about Zatte hijacking the ship," Keda said.  "You threatened to breach the hull and kill us all if she tried it again."

"I did?  Yeah, I probably did.  I'm sorry."

"Hey, I get it," Keda said.  "It's your ship.  You're in charge.  I understood that when I signed on."

"Yeah, but I was out of line," Luffa said.  

"It’s cool.  You've had a rough time lately," Keda offered.  

"Doesn't give me the right to take it out on you guys.  I should be better than that.  I have to be."

She stood up and winced, then slowly headed for the door.  "I'll find her myself," she said.  "Looks like the only thing to do is search the whole ship room by room, and seal off each section as I go.  Maybe the ship can’t sniff her out, but I can."

"That'll take a while," Keda said.  

Luffa shrugged.  "Can't be helped.  If you see her..."

"I'll let her know you're looking for her."

"Thanks, kid."

*******

Luffa opened the door to the yacht's gymnasium and didn't bother turning on the lights.  Despite the number of comfortable guest quarters on board, she had used the ship's fitness center as a private sanctum.  A pile of floor mats served as her bed, and she was used to finding it in the dark.  She lowered herself onto it and curled up into a ball.  There were a couple of deck towels she used for blankets lying around, and she reached around with her hand to try to find them in the dark.  

"How did you know I was here?"

Luffa let out a rather undignified squeak, and scrambled to sit up.  "Lights!" she shouted, and the ship's computer illuminated the room.  

Of course, there was nothing to see.   Most of the gym was a wreck, but that was nothing new; it had been this way for over a year.  Luffa made use of some of the equipment, but she only needed one elliptical machine at most, so she had shoved the other five off to one side of room.  She hadn't been gentle about this.  Neither had she been particularly concerned about the large mirrors that lined the starboard wall.  Each pane of glass was shattered, with shards laying on the floor beside them, surrounded by bloodstains.  In another corner, a rack of weights lay on its side.  Beside it was a treadmill that had been twisted into something resembling an abstract sculpture.  Luffa's handprints were gouged into the metal.  

"I didn't know you were here," Luffa finally called out.  "I was about to search the ship, but I was so tired I figured I should sleep first.  I asked you not to come in here, Zattie."

"I know," she said.  "I thought this would be the last place you would look for me."  

Luffa groaned and lay back down on the mat.  "Well, it’s dangerous in this room.  I blow off steam in here.  I break stuff, mostly.  I try not to..."  She started to laugh.  

"What?" Zatte said.  

"I used to lie awake in here and try not to transform," Luffa said.  "I was afraid to even move.  Thought if I blinked I’d blow myself straight to hell.   But right now I'm weaker than I was when I was a kid.  It's dumb.  It's all dumb.  I'm sorry."

"Sorry for what?" Zatte asked.

"For everything," Luffa said.  "Keda told me I threatened you the other day.  I don't even remember that, but I was pretty sore about you hijacking my ship, so it must have happened."

"How did you get around my program, anyway?" Zatte asked.  

"This ship's always been my weak point, Zattie," Luffa said.  "Doesn't matter how strong I am if an enemy fleet gets in a lucky shot, or somebody sneaks aboard and sets the ship to auto-destruct.  And I always thought maybe Keda might try to pull something, so I found a programmer on Moleen and had him set up a master override.  It's got something to do with the hardware, so you'd need do to more than hack the computer, but I don't know how any of that techie crap works.  Basically if I'm on board and I tell the computer to do something, it does it, end of story.  I like to keep things simple."  

"I see," Zatte said.  

"Anyway, I shouldn't be sore at you for helping me out on Wist.  You were just doing what you thought was right.  It's humiliating, but I'll get over it."

"You will?"

"Sure.  I'm just sorry I let you down."

Zatte shimmered into view, and took a seat on the mat beside Luffa.  "I thought I was the one who let you down," she said.  

"What?"

"I didn't really have a plan.  I just went down to the planet to check on you.  I wanted to be there in case anything went wrong.  And then I realized I had to make a choice.  I could either let you settle things with Kandai on your own, or shoot him and guarantee that you would survive."

"You probably made the right call," Luffa said.  "That's what burns me up about it.  If I could have killed Kandai I would have done it right off the bat.  Instead I kept dragging it out.  I told myself it was because I wanted to be sporting about it, because that's how a true Saiyan would handle it, but even he knew that was ridiculous, and he was a coward."

She looked at Zatte and shook her head.  "I think I was afraid to finish him off.  Like, I'd been hunting him for so long that I was afraid of what it would be like to be done with it all.  Maybe I wanted someone else to come along and do it for me."

"My people have a story about a Dorlun who became immortal," Zatte said.  "At first it was great for him, and he had all these ideas on what he would do with his endless life.  But he never really got started on those plans, because in the back of his mind he knew he would always have time to get to it later.   Then he fell down a well."

"What happened to him?" Luffa asked.  

"Nothing happened to him," Zatte said with a grin.  "He's still down there, wishing he hadn't wasted all that precious time."

"That's a lousy story," Luffa said.  

"So's the one about the Super Saiyan who couldn't get past her vendetta," Zatte said.  "I didn't like the way it was going, so I changed the ending.  At least this way, you get to show up for the next story, and the one after that."

"If I'd just been stronger," Luffa said, "I could have handled the whole thing myself.  And you wouldn't have needed to get involved."

"Wait, so you're really not mad at me for interfering?  For hijacking your ship?  For cheating you out of your revenge?"

"Hah!  I mean, I'm not happy about it, if that’s what you’re asking, but I've got no one to blame but myself.  Right now, I kind of wish I could turn invisible too, you know what I mean?"

"Luffa, I've been avoiding you because I thought you were mad at me."

"I thought you were mad at me?"

"Why would I be mad at you?"  Zatte asked.

"Because I got my ass kicked, that's why!"

Luffa pulled the towel over her head.  "I know how you feel about me.  You think I'm some kind of miracle, and it's your holy duty to support me any way you can.  What's the word?  'xan-nil'Dor?'  'Why-we-survive?'"

"Yeah."  

"No offense, but I hate that kind of mumbo jumbo.  There's at least a dozen planets where everybody thinks I fit into their mythology one way or another."

"I know."

"I'm just a fighter.  Sooner or later I'm bound to lose.  I'll get him next time, that's the best I can offer."

"Next time?" Zatte said.  She yanked the towel away to see Luffa's face.  "You want to fight the Shockmaster again?"

Luffa rolled onto her back and smiled.  "Yes," she said.  "That big oaf refused to kill me.  Biggest mistake he ever made."

"But how--?"

"He was too strong for me," Luffa said.  She was trembling, and she slowly rose to a sitting position, then onto her knees.  "There's no sugarcoating it.  I never expected to run into anyone that powerful.  He was toying with me the whole time.  The only way I'll win against him is to get even stronger."

"Is that even possible?!" Zatte asked.  

"I won't know for sure until I try," Luffa said.  "But I gotta try, Zattie.  I've been waiting for an opponent like this my whole life.  I can't just walk away without taking another crack at him.  He was too strong for me.  I can't get over it."

She rose to her feet, and started pacing around the room, with a mad grin on her face.   "Sorry, I just get excited thinking about it.  Even when Doc had me doped up in sickbay, I had dreams about it.  See, this was exactly why I wanted to find you, Zattie.  You always know how to cheer me up."

"Um, glad I could help," Zatte said.  She stood up and scratched the back of her own neck.  "So you're not mad at me.  I just want to be clear."

"No, I'm not mad at you," Luffa said.  "I just don't want you trying to take over the ship anymore.  I've got a plan."

"Well, I'm kind of embarrassed about the whole thing now," Zatte.  "That day in the kitchen, you said you wanted to talk later, and I didn't like the sound of that.  I thought you were going to put me off the ship or something like that."

"What?  No," Luffa said.  "It's just that I was thinking about you during the fight, and it was kind of a distraction.  Not that it mattered, I was gonna get my clock cleaned no matter what..."

"You were thinking about me?" Zatte asked.

Luffa turned around to face her, now bearing a solemn expression.   "Look, the thing is, I need to eliminate those kinds of distractions.  Next time, it might be a much closer match, and if I lose focus like that it could mean the difference between winning and losing.  Does that make sense?"

Zatte's shoulders sagged and when she nodded, she didn't raise her head back all the way.  "I... I think I see what you mean," she said.  "Believe me, the last thing I want to do is get in your way..."

"It won't work out like this, not in the long term," Luffa said.  "This is hard for me to say, but it's probably better to get it over with so we can both move on."

"Well, if this is what you think is best..." Zatte said.  "Look, I know you don't believe it yourself, but I still think of you as a xan'nil-Dor.  I have an obligation to do what's best for you, like it or not."

"Good, I'm glad you feel that way," Luffa said.  "Makes this a little easier to ask you this.   Ever since you shot Kandai, I realized there's only one way forward here."

Zatte sighed.  "All I ask is that you let me stay with you.  Keda's the only other Dorlun I can find, and I still want to help you, even if you want to end our relationship."

"End our--?  Wait, what?"

"Well, you're breaking up with me, right?"

"What?  Hell no.  Where'd you get that idea?"

"You got all serious, started talking about eliminating distractions, and how much you want to get this over with."

"Dammit, I'm not breaking up with you," Luffa said.  

"Well then what was it you've been wanting to ask me this whole time?" Zatte demanded. 

"I just have a hard time saying stuff like this--"

"Well spit it out!" Zatte exclaimed.  "Why does everything have to be so suspenseful with you?"

"Okay, okay!" Luffa said.

"I mean, you always have to stall and stall, like I'm supposed to just stand here all night long and wait for you to put the words together," Zatte raved.  "I know you get self-conscious about things, but no one else is even here!  Why can't you just cut to the chase?!  I... what are you doing--?"

Luffa had walked to the mat and lowered herself--with some difficulty--down to one knee.  She looked up at Zatte and said: "Will you marry me?"

NEXT: Try, try again.

[fett-djarin]

Stress Relief

Here it is! This is entirely self indulgent and filthy! Im a wh*re for the croissant guards

Also I headcanon Fox looking like how amikoroyoaiart draws him. her art is so good!

Commander Fox x f!reader

Crossposted on ao3

Rating: 18+

Length: 3.9k

Warnings/Tags: Oral (m receiving), that good sloppy toppy, office sex, cursing, light grinding, making out

NSFW BELOW THE CUT

Bringing the Guard their morning caf had become a tradition, of sorts. You knew the caf in the mess wasn’t good--in fact, it was barely even palatable. When you first started as a new secretary, it had been your timid way of offering friendship to the imposing troopers who worked so hard to keep the planet safe. They warmed to you quickly. Thire was the first to remove his helmet in front of you, plonking it down on your desk and taking a long pull of caf barely a second after you handed it to him. At your stunned look, he had just raised a brow and said, “Long patrol last night,” with a shrug.

As the others had become more comfortable with you, you had seen most of them without their buckets at some point--except for Fox. He always took his caf with a polite “Thank you, ma’am,” and retreated to his office. You knew it was against regulation for them to remove their helmets while they were on duty. But even when you dropped off the caf in his office, he was at his desk with his helmet on.

“He keeps it on so you can’t tell if he’s actually asleep,” Thorn told you one day. “I suspect he even does it while we’re standing guard sometimes.” You laughed aloud at that. The serious Commander Fox, asleep standing up. He was right though, you never would be able to tell.

The first time Fox removed his helmet in front of you, you hadn’t expected the gray dusting his temples, but honestly you weren’t surprised. The poor man was stressed beyond belief and worked half to death. You were more surprised that he finally did it in the first place. Fox sighed, running a hand through his unruly curls, before taking the caf and giving you a tired smile. He thanked you by name that time. You tried to ignore the butterflies in your stomach.

From then on, he had been without it more when you went into his office. You even caught him sleeping once--head resting on his folded arms, bucket set next to him--and had done your best to deliver the caf without waking him. Maker knew he needed the sleep more than he needed hot caf--if Thorn hadn’t told you he snuck naps with the helmet on, you would think he ran off caf and stubborn will alone.

One morning, after you had passed out caf to the others--and a little cup of whipped cream for Grizzer--Fox hadn’t made an appearance, so you made your way to his office to drop it off. You knocked lightly on the door. “Come in,” his gruff voice called, and the door slid aside. You smiled at him, noting the way his shoulders visibly relaxed at seeing it was just you. You set the cup down on his desk. You had just turned when a touch on your wrist stopped you.

Fox was looking up at you, helmet cocked to the side. “You know you don’t have to bring us caf every time you work, right? The boys better not be nagging you for it.”

“I know,” you said. “I enjoy doing it. And it’s the least I could do.”

“The least you could do?”

“You all work so hard. You deserve more, even if it’s just better caf.”

He squeezed your wrist gently. “You don’t owe us anything. It is our duty to the Republic--”

“I know, Fox,” you tried to hide your grin, and failed. “But you’re also my friends.”

That seemed to surprise him, hand falling from your wrist as he sat back in his chair and regarded you curiously. You made your way back to the door, pausing in the entryway and looking back over your shoulder.

“Have a good morning, Commander.”

“...You as well, ma’am.”

The door slid shut behind you. Fox slipped his helmet off, setting it on his desk and staring hard at the door you had disappeared through. His eyes flicked to the paper cup of steaming caf, brows furrowed.

It was the first time you had called him by his name.

Friends?

----

After that day, Fox seemed to be trying to talk to you more. Instead of taking his caf and running off, he would stay, either to chat or just hang around for a minute with you and the other Guards. Stone nudged Thire, who nudged Thorn, and they all looked over to where Fox leaned his hip casually against your desk and you were laughing at something he said.

“Did someone replace Fox while we weren’t looking?” Thire questioned under his breath.

“I’ve never seen him so...cheery,” Stone said.

You smiled up at Fox, worrying your bottom lip with your teeth. They watched as your fingers grazed the back of his hand where it rested on your desk. “Think something’s goin’ on between those two?” Thorn asked, gesturing vaguely over towards you and Fox with his cup.

“Absolutely.” Thire didn’t hesitate to answer.

The three quickly snapped to attention as Fox excused himself, heading their direction. You gave them a small wave. Thorn was about to wave back before Thire thumped him in the arm.

“Don’t you have duties to attend to?” Fox grumbled as he passed them, heading to his office. “Get to it.” You hid your laugh behind your hand seeing the three Commanders scramble to disperse.

Evening rolled around, and you cocked your head side to side, stretching your neck and shoulders. You had been going over forms all day, datapad after datapad, organizing reports and requests for the Chancellor and the Senate. Your shift was almost over, and you were getting ready to go home for the night.

Various members of the Guard had come and gone, leaving and returning from patrols. Senators and representatives had filtered through; less and less as the evening progressed. You were just getting ready to leave when Fox stalked through, back from his rounds, tense and practically vibrating with irritation. He didn't even spare you a glance as he disappeared into his office. If the doors weren't automatic, he likely would have slammed it shut.

You knew he had a thankless job--a job he had no say in having, either. Usually it was something to do with the Chancellor that got him so worked up. Half the time you thought Fox would strangle the man himself if he could. Maybe you should take Fox out to one of the cafes nearby, just for a second to breathe and not carry the weight of the Guard on his shoulders. Was that against regulation? It might be better to invite him back to your apartment. Or did that imply too much?

You pushed yourself up from your chair, mind made up. He could always say no. You wouldn’t be offended.

You paused outside the door to his office, listening carefully. You couldn’t hear anything from the other side. So, you knocked.

“What.” Fox’s biting tone surprised you, but you didn’t take it personally.

“Commander? I...It’s me,” you said hesitantly, and then wanted to smack yourself. Confidence. “Is everything alright?”

No response. You took the silence as a sign that he wasn’t interested in talking. That was fine. You didn’t want to impose if he needed time to himself. The door slid open just as you had stepped back, intending to leave. Fox sighed, jerking his head to direct you inside.

The door shut behind you, and Fox sat heavily in his chair at the desk. Another deep sigh, and his shoulders slumped. He pulled his helmet off, setting it aside, and you caught a glimpse of the dark circles under his eyes before he put his head in his hands.

“Commander Fox?” You took a tentative step forward, so you were close enough to reach out and touch his shoulder.

He looked up at you. There was still tension lining his shoulders, hands flexing into fists and then relaxing. Stress. He opened his mouth to say something, frowned, and then closed it again. He cleared his throat. “Did you need something?” You could tell he was making an effort to soften his voice, likely as to not snap at you again.

“I just wanted to check in, sir,” you said, coming around the desk to stand next to him, leaning your weight against it. “It looked like something was bothering you.”

He waved his hand in the air vaguely, brows pinched. “You don’t have to call me ‘sir,’ you’re not one of my men.” He looked like he was debating saying more, so you waited patiently, quietly, hoping he recognized that you were here to listen if he so needed.

“As you likely know, there’s a gala coming up. Senators, politicians, ambassadors, Jedi….” Fox huffed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “It’s going to be a security nightmare. And the Chancellor,” he spat, venom in his voice, “has been on my case about patrols and the Guard. Always demanding more. We’re spread too thin, and not getting the support we need--” he cut himself off. He was getting himself worked up again.

You placed your hand over his where it was clenched into a fist on the desk. It relaxed under your touch. Fox heaved another sigh mixed with a groan. “I’m behind on paperwork too,” he glared at the stack of datapads sitting to the side. “I don’t know where I’m supposed to find the time to do everything.”

“Hmm,” you reached over and picked up one of the datapads, skimming through it, hopping up so you were now sitting on the desk. It was just a patrol report that needed Fox’s signature before being filed. “What’s your CC number?”

“CC-1010,” he answered instantly, then regarded you with suspicion. “Why?”

You signed the bottom of the form: CC-1010, “Fox,” and submitted it.

“What are you doing?” his voice seemed to have kicked up an octave.

“Helping you with your work. I deal with paperwork and holoforms all the time,” you said, picking up another datapad and scanning through the information. “Most of the time it’s to make sure there’s a document trail. Most of these probably don’t need an in-depth review, they’re not important. They just go in the archives and are never looked at again.”

“I--you--that’s illegal,” he sputtered. But he seemed more surprised than serious.

You raised a brow at him, signing his designation and name once again before submitting the next form. “Are you going to arrest me?”

“No,” he didn’t hesitate. Interesting. Then he had a thought. “Your handwriting doesn’t even look like mine.”

“Doesn’t it?” you showed him where you had signed. It was almost identical to his scrawling script. His eyes flicked between the form and your face, incredulity on his features.

“How…?”

You shrugged. “It’s something I’ve always been good at. Saved me a lot of trouble as a kid when I needed my parents to sign for something at school. Especially when it was a disciplinary note.” Fox barked a disbelieving laugh at that and you couldn’t help your sly smile. “Even if I didn’t mimic your signature, no one would notice. Or care. You could mark the lines with an X and it would go through; it’s only the acknowledgement they care about. You can even draw a loth-cat face and have that be in the archive forever as a signature.”

“Don’t you dare,” he threatened with a chuckle. “Some of these aren’t just patrol reports though. I actually have to read through the more important ones.”

You handed him a holopad as you picked up your third. “How’s this: we work on these together; if I find one that has important information or requires more than a signature, I’ll give it to you.”

He regarded you for a long moment, debating your offer. Some of the weight had lifted from his shoulders; he looked less tense, less overwhelmed, even less exhausted. Then he slowly nodded. “All right,” he said. “But you have to let me buy you coffee for once.”

“You don’t have to do that--”

“We’re friends. Right?”

That stopped you short. You did consider him and the other guards friends, but to hear him say that he also considered you one...it was nice. It made a pleasant warmth flutter in your stomach, and you couldn’t help your shy smile at his words. “Right,” you agreed. The soft upturn of his lips made your breath hitch. He looked so young when he smiled.

The two of you worked in companionable silence, steadily making your way through the stack of datapads. You had been correct--most of them were unimportant; standard reports and forms that required a signature purely for protocol. Every once in a while you handed one over to Fox for him to read through. Slowly, your free hands had crept together, and Fox hoped to the Maker that you didn’t notice how warm his cheeks had gotten. 

Your thumb rubbed soothing circles over the back of his hand, and he didn’t notice he was staring at the way your fingers moved rather than reading through the form you handed him until you cleared your throat. “Fox?” you asked quietly. His gaze landed on your lips. He wanted you to keep saying his name, he wanted to hear it again and again--

You brushed a stray curl back from his forehead. A tug on your arm had you stumbling forward off-balance, and you would have fallen if strong arms had not wrapped around you and pulled you into an armored chest. Heat rushed to your face at the new position you found yourself in: sat in Fox’s lap, his hand still entwined with yours.

Then he kissed you.

It was gentle, soft. His lips pressed to yours chastely, far more gently than you expected him to be, and you felt the datapad fall from your hand. The sharp clatter of it hitting the ground made Fox pull back, but then you grasped the back of his neck, twining your fingers in his curls, and pulled him back to your mouth. He tossed his own back on the desk with a groan as your lips met again.

You licked the seam of his lips, and he opened for you. Fox was content to let you lead. His hand gripped your hip, and he sighed into your kisses, melting from your affection. You don’t know how long the two of you stayed like that--tasting, breathing each other in, sharing languid kisses full of pent-up desire.

His wild curls were soft in your fingers, and he all but purred when you lightly scratched your nails along his scalp. The hard plastoid of his thigh plates was uncomfortable underneath you, and you shifted your hips slightly in an effort to find a more comfortable spot. The breath hissed out through Fox's teeth, and your face flushed with warmth realizing you had brushed against his codpiece. His fingers tightened on your hip and thigh, pulling you towards him, encouraging your hips to roll against him again.

It was an awkward angle, with you sitting with your legs thrown over his lap, but from the hitch in Fox’s breathing it was doing something for him. You hummed into his mouth before pushing yourself up, holding onto his broad shoulders for support as you swung one leg over so you were now straddling him, chest to chest.

“Better?” he rumbled, nipping your bottom lip before soothing the sting with his tongue. You squeaked as his palms cupped and squeezed your ass, tugging you closer. Both of you basked in each other's eager little breaths and soft noises, hungry and wanting for more.

"Mhmm." The new position allowed you to feel the firmness of Fox's codpiece against your center when you pressed your hips into his. Fox really appreciated the new position, with your tits against his chest and free access to grope your ass. He almost whined into your mouth at the steady slow grind you started against him.

You wanted to hear that noise again. An idea struck you. You wanted to taste him. One more deep kiss, then you shimmied back off his lap. Fox made a noise of protest and tried to pull you back to him, but you just grinned and shooed his hands away. The floor was cold on your knees as you settled between his spread legs.

“What are you--oh,” he cut off with a harsh breath as your deft fingers unclasped his codpiece and tossed it away. Immediately, your palm cupped the warm bulge at the front of his blacks. He shifted in his seat, and you noticed his cheeks and ears had flushed a shade darker. How cute.

“Commander,” you purred, slowly stroking him through the fabric.

“Y-yes, cyare?” His hands flexed at the arms of his chair. He was struggling to not reach out and pull you back on his lap. Normally so composed, Fox now looked wrecked with his lips slightly parted, kiss-swollen, and hair mussed.

“Will you let me suck your cock?”

Fox spluttered and fumbled at your bluntness. You bit your bottom lip, looking up at him from beneath your lashes, still slowly stroking him over his blacks. You could see him fighting with himself. Maker, he wanted it. He wanted to see your pretty lips wrapped around his length. But he also didn’t want you to feel like you had to--he also desperately wanted to pleasure you.

“Please?” you leaned forward and mouthed at his clothed erection, letting your spit soak the fabric. Your eyes locked with his, looking up at him with your best faux-innocent look, like you had no idea what you were doing to him. But Maker, you were hungry. You wanted him.

“Fuck,” the word sounded as if it had been punched out of him. His pupils were blown wide, black swallowing the rich brown of his irises. “Fuck, yes--”

You wasted no time in tugging the band of his blacks down. A shiver worked its way through him; seeing you on your knees in front of him was a dream--a dirty little fantasy he would never admit to. Many nights alone in his quarters or in the showers he had roughly fisted his cock to the thought of you in situations that were most definitely unprofessional, biting the back of his hand to keep his noises at bay. And now here you were, the sweet secretary, making his dreams become reality.

The sliver of warm skin revealed to you made you instantly want more, and you couldn’t stop from pressing a light kiss to his hip. Then you eased his leaking cock from his blacks. Fox hissed in a breath through his teeth as your hand loosely wrapped around him, pumping his length slowly. The precum that dribbled from the tip slicked your grip. He was thick and firm in your hand, like velvet-wrapped durasteel.

The first stroke of your tongue against his cock made him curse. You licked slowly, working your way from tip to base and back, tracing the pulsing vein that ran along the underside. Taking the head of his cock in your mouth, you tasted the salty tang of the precum that leaked from him. When you hummed around him, his hand shot to your hair, fingers winding through the strands. He didn’t push you down or pull you away; instead, he merely just...held on.

Fox’s breathing kicked up watching you worship his cock with your tongue and hands. You enjoyed watching him try to hold himself together, slowly making him fall apart piece by piece. Your head bobbed up and down his length, each time taking more of him. Your hand continued to pump and work the rest you hadn’t fit in your mouth. He breathed out a string of words in a language you didn’t understand, but from the tone it sounded like he was praising you.

All his little noises were making the heat coil in your core. Wetness pooled between your legs, and you clenched your thighs together for the slightest bit of relief. You closed your eyes to concentrate, focusing on the weight of his cock on your tongue, the heat of his body. You slowly took more of him in your mouth until you felt his tip bump the back of your throat. Breathe through your nose. Fighting off your gag reflex, you swallowed around him.

“Shit! Shit, mesh’la--” Fox cried out above you, feeling your throat constrict around his length. He tugged gently on your hair, and you pulled off him with a gasp. “Fuck, if you keep doing that I’m gonna cum in your mouth.” It was meant to be a warning, but he sounded too breathless for it to carry any weight.

“But Commander,” you looked up at him, enveloping the tip of his cock in the heat of your mouth and gently sucking. His thighs twitched under your hands, cock throbbing, and you pulled off with an obscene pop. “That’s the best part.”

You were messy, letting saliva drip from your mouth and down his cock. You sucked, licked, and kissed every inch of his length until it was sopping. When you ducked down to take his balls in your mouth, his breath hitched, hand tightening in your hair, and a low moan came from him.

“Gedet’ye, mesh’la, gedet’ye--” Fox choked out.

“Hm?” You pulled back, hand wrapped around his cock and continued to pump him tightly. You twisted your wrist when your hand brushed over his head. He was panting lightly, and looked deliciously wrecked.

“Gedet’ye,” he said again, “please.”

You smiled at him, and he felt his heart jump. You looked filthy, lipstick--Coruscant guard red?--smeared, lips and chin wet with spit. “I want you to cum in my mouth, Fox.” Then you brought your mouth back to his cock and sucked, laving your tongue over the sensitive head as one hand stroked the base. The other came up to cradle his balls, and he was done for.

Fox cursed up a storm in both Basic and Mando’a, nearly doubling over as his orgasm was wrenched out of him by your clever mouth. You kept your gaze connected with his, eyes hazy and half-lidded. Warm spurts of his release filled your mouth and you eagerly swallowed it down, milking his cock until he had nothing left. Subtly, you rubbed your thighs together, so turned on it nearly hurt. Seeing Fox fall apart for you stoked the fire of arousal in your core.

He had an arm thrown over his eyes as he slumped in his chair, chest heaving for breath. “Stars above, you’re going to kill me,” he said. You giggled, hands running soothing motions over his thigh plates, even though he couldn’t feel it through the plastoid. He looked boneless and sated, which was exactly your intention--well, part of your intention.

Then he was guiding you back up, cupping your cheek and kissing you hard. It was desperate, deep, filled with so much emotion that you couldn’t decipher it, you only knew that you felt the same. You moaned into his mouth. He broke the kiss, and you noticed the glint in his eye and his sly grin before he kissed you again, standing and guiding you back to sit on his desk.

“Now it’s my turn.”

[roger-that-cap]

peace

natasha romanoff x fem!reader

summary: natasha wanted to marry you more than she wanted everything, but how was she supposed to propose to you and ask you to be hers forever when she couldn’t give you even the simplest of things?

warnings: so this is minimal angst, don’t be fooled, this is fluff, ya know the drill. this may or may not be cheesy, but i tried 

word count: 6.4k, short and sweet 

so, i listened to peace by taylor swift while i wrote this one. take that information how you wish lollll. also, not edited!

Natasha met you years ago. You were the bright eyed girl at the front counter of an ice cream shop near the tower, soft serve shop. Natasha, ever the reader of mankind, immediately knew that you were kind, patient and simply sweet. Sweeter than the vanilla cone she had treated herself to, the one that you had made yourself because your coworkers were on an extra long break that wasn’t exactly authorized. 

  You knew who she was, but you didn’t ask her for anything. No autograph, no murmuring of a catchphrase, nothing about whether or not Captain America would be into you. Natasha admired that. She loved that she saw the flash of excitement and recognition in your eyes, but that it never went further than you asking her if she wanted sprinkles. 

 That one encounter led to many more. Soon, you two were on a date, after you had been brave enough to ask if she wanted to go on a picnic in the park after she kept coming into the store. And that one date was enough for you both to know that you wanted to see each other again, and again, and again. 

You and Natasha spent two months dating each other before making it official, and it was the best decision either of you had ever made. 

You made her feel like she was needed and loved, and she made you feel like you were cherished and safe. The feeling that you got when you looked at her was just so… natural. You weren’t worried about angering her, or about messing up in front of her. She made you feel calm, and one look at her washed all the jitters out of your nerves easily. 

And in return, there was no one on the entire planet that made Natasha as happy as you did. You were the one, and it was almost over night when she realized that you were it. 

One night, she was in bed next to you after a long day of training recruits and having a briefing for an upcoming mission. She had only been in your apartment for about twenty minutes, just lying in your gentle and welcoming arms, and she was fighting the urge to nod off where she felt safest. She was tired, but she knew one thing above everything else, and it was that she wasn’t going to waste an entire night with you because she wanted to sleep. 

“You don’t have to stay awake, sprinkles.” You said to her in the dark room, your hand smoothing her hair. “I’ll be fine.”

“I’ve been wanting to talk to you all day.” Maybe that’s when Natasha should have noticed. When the urge to talk to you was stronger than the drive that she had while training recruits, or when she nearly forgot that she couldn’t go home early because of how much she was just ready to. 

“I won’t be upset, you work hard,” you said softly. “You deserve some peace and quiet. Sleep, I’ve got you.” 

Natasha did a few things for the first time in a long time that night. 

One: she felt at peace enough to fall asleep immediately. 

Two: she went to sleep with the sound of someone humming in her ear. 

Three: she realized that she was completely in love with her girlfriend. 

There were plenty of times that hinted to her that she was falling in love. She looked for you or an essence of you everywhere, from seeing something the color of your eyes to looking over at your favorite brand of yogurt in the grocery store and contemplating buying it. Whenever you smiled, she couldn’t help but grin twice as big. If you laughed, she was happy. When you were upset, she wanted nothing more than to make it better, than to eliminate whatever it had been that made you feel that way. She would do anything for you. And she really believed that you would do anything for her right back. 

 Your relationship wasn’t perfect, but it was damn near it. It was the thing Natasha was most proud of, just like you were the person that Natasha was proudest of to call hers. And she wanted that. She wanted you to be hers for the rest of your life, and she wanted nothing more than to be officially yours. 

And that was why she stood in a high end jewelry store that specialized in special rings, closed for two hours from the public just for her. And Tony and Steve, who desperately wanted to tag along. 

  Tony was more of the planner and the doer. He was the one pointing out the rings that seemed pretty, the ones that looked like they would fit your style. He was the businessman, ready to negotiate price even though he could easily afford the entire store ten times over. Steve, however, was the mother hen. Hovering mostly silently, an excited buzz flowing out and touching everyone else in the vicinity. He was excited for Natasha, it was obvious, and he also wanted to make her feel as comfortable and ready as possible. 

  “That one’s pretty, isn’t it?” Tony muttered, pointing towards an intricate ring with a diamond in the middle of the studded band. “Y/N likes stuff like that.” 

“No she doesn’t,” Steve cut in, and he pointed to a ring that was quite literally the opposite of the one Tony was referring to. It was a simple ring, one with a silver band and a decently sized diamond in the middle. It was clearly an engagement ring, but it wasn’t flashy. “That one is probably closer to what she’d like.” 

Everyone in the tower knew you well. Natasha made sure that you knew her friends well when you two started to get really involved. You introduced her to your siblings and parents, and she let you meet her own family, the Avengers. Natasha remembered the day that you met everyone vividly. Everyone had loved you immediately, and she was so proud of the way that you handled yourself while being so nervous. Hell, she was always proud of you. 

  You made fast and sturdy friendships with everyone and fit in well, and that was all Natasha could ever ask for. Eventually, she started to bring you over at least once a week just to hang out with everyone, to get you familiar with every member of her found family. 

  Perhaps that was another sign that she should have taken and read. She had never introduced a significant other to the family that she cherished so much, not once before you. 

“Steve’s right,” Natasha murmured, and she heard Tony’s playful scoff. “But I have no idea when I’m going to actually do it.”

 “You don’t have a trip planned?” Tony asked incredulously. “Well, I can schedule anything you want, whenever you want. Just ask me.” 

Natasha knew exactly what Tony was referring to. He had gone above and beyond for every romantic gesture that was ever for Pepper, and Natasha knew that your relationship wasn’t like that. You didn’t need grand gestures or long trips to beaches. The both of you were happier than ever just being with each other. She knew that you would cry in the middle of a Wendy’s if she popped the question there and held her hand patiently waiting for the ring. The location mattered the least. 

“We probably won’t do a trip, that’ll make it obvious.” There was one thing that Natasha was very picky about that had to do with the whole affair, and that was surprise. She wanted you to be the most pleasantly surprised you had ever been in your life, and she wanted to watch those beautiful eyes of yours light up and start to water in the most joyous of ways. She wanted the cheesy hand-over-heart move, the hand grabbing, the excited chatter of a small gathering of random people looking. And most of all, she wanted to hear your elated yes and she wanted to slip the ring onto your ring finger, and she never wanted to see it off from that moment on. 

But that was just her. 

Natasha, Steve, and Tony spent another hour in the jewelry store. The owner was buzzing around, clearly excited for the amount of business that their presence was sure to rope in. He took a picture of them and promised not to release it until Natasha proposed, even though he was quite literally bursting at the seams to brag about it. In the end, Natasha ended up getting a pretty ring with a silver band and a nice sized diamond, simple and just your type. 

They were on their way out when Tony spotted paparazzi. He stopped in his tracks and turned around. “Okay, I’ll go first to lead them away.” 

“Why?” 

“If Y/N sees you on a tabloid at a ring shop with me and Steve… the surprise is up.” Tony made a clicking noise with his tongue and left without anything else to say, strolling out and indeed leading all of the people with cameras away from the shop, all of them entranced by the billionaire. 

To be safe, Natasha and Steve waited for a few more minutes before walking out and getting jumbled in with the crowd. Her grip on the bag was tight, and she was holding the box in her hand through it. So, are you excited?” 

“Not as excited as you,” she teased, but even she could hear the nerves in her voice. “I just don’t wanna ruin anything.” 

  “Please,” Steve scoffed. “Y/N is so in love with you that I forget that you two aren’t already married, honestly.” 

  Steve saying it aloud made Natasha’s heart race, even though she already knew that. That was one of the million wonderful qualities about you. She never had to ask you for validation, because you told her with everything you did. You tapped her hand three times at parties. You whispered it into her ear before you both went to sleep. You kissed her cheek or her jaw when she started to get antsy, and rubbed her back while you did it. Every touch, every kiss, every breath that the both of you took told the other that you loved them. There was no question about that. 

“So, what are you worried about? She’ll say yes. Everyone knows that.”

If only Steve knew that it was so much more than you saying a three letter word instead of a two letter one. 

They walked back in silence to the tower, comfortable silence between two friends who were both deep in their own heads even as they swiped their clearance cards and went into the elevator. 

§§

Natasha always felt bad when she lied to you, no matter how small or white the lie was. One day, it was small and for the both of you, but it still didn’t smooth the guilt. 

She had told you that she had a late night meeting, top secret, and that she would call you when you could come up in her room. “So, that’s the plan.” 

“You’re gonna pop the question of your lives in the park?” Tony asked, a brow quirked upwards. “Well, to each their own.” 

Wanda rolled her eyes. “That’s a really sweet idea, Nat. Tony, here, is just annoying.” 

“Thank you, Wanda.” Natasha said, and then turned to the billionaire. “So, what would you do, then?” 

“I would go on a crui-”

“Yeah, I’m thinking Nat wants a more casual approach,” Sam said, giving Tony a once over. “So the park would be great.” 

“I know,” she said absentmindedly, thoughts already on the next hour, where she would be on the couch in her quarters with you, watching one of your favorite shows together. 

“We’re still allowed to come, right?” Wanda asked, gently bringing Natasha out of her thoughts. 

“Of course.” That was another thing she really wanted. Her family had to see everything happen first hand, that was non negotiable. “Just lurk in the shadows, she’ll know what's happening if she sees all of you.” 

That night, she left the tower to go to your apartment rather than just have you come over and swipe your card that Tony had made you. She figured that the less people around that knew about the proposal, the less likely it was that someone was going to spoil it. 

  She wasn’t an idiot. Weddings were special to you. Hell, when you were younger, you used to want to be a wedding planner. Natasha knew that a goal in your life was to be loved by someone so much that they wanted to spend their life with you, and luckily, the both of you found that in each other. 

  “Baby,” Natasha called when she stepped through the threshold of your apartment, her ears already pricked up as she heard the television coming from the room that you had moved half of her belongings into. She smiled as she walked closer, purposely making her footfalls a little louder so that she didn’t startle you. 

  You were smiling at her when she opened the door to the bedroom, and Natasha felt her heart stutter for a second as she caught her bearings. “Hi, sprinkles. How was work?” 

She would never get tired of the sound of your voice. “It was alright.” Natasha walked over to you, and you leaned into her hand, the same one that always reached for your face and cradled your cheek, her own little greeting. “You weren’t there, so.” 

“Sadly I was doing soft serve,” you said, rolling your eyes at the customers you had encountered. “And one woman was particularly… not nice.” 

“Oh, I’m sorry, baby.” Natasha said softly, pulling you closer. “At least now all you have to worry about is sitting down in time to catch your show.” 

“That is my only worry,” You agreed playfully. “Come sit, I’m tired. And I know you are, too.” 

§§

Natasha thought that she was going to do it as you walked through the park, on a trail that the rest of the Avengers were following you on flawlessly. She was surprised that they could keep that quiet for that long, especially Steve, with his non-stealthy physique and training. But they were doing it. In a way, it made Natasha worried out of her mind that you couldn’t feel that five people were trailing you. But she forced that part of her mind, the one that was always so overwhelmed with the need to keep you close and safe, to the back of her mind, and instead felt for the little box in her pocket. 

“Oh, do you hear that bird singing?” You asked softly, trying not to disturb the peace. She watched your eyes scan the tips of the trees, watching as a smile grew on your face and planting one of her own. “I wish I could see it.” 

“You go bird watching all the time,” Natasha mused at you, and you snorted a bit. 

“But we never really sit down and do it together,” you said after a moment, and just like that, Natasha’s excitement was dried out. Her fingers left the box in her jacket pocket, and her hand swung at her side with the other held by your hand. 

“What?” 

“We just don’t do it much, ‘s all.” Like you sensed that you had said something that changed the mood of your little stroll, you turned to look at her. “There’s nothing wrong with that.” 

But there was. There was everything wrong with that statement. Mostly because it was one hundred percent true. The two of you didn’t have any time to bird watch or stargaze like you wanted to. And it wasn’t on your end, no, it was on her’s. 

She came home late more often than not. She left early in the morning, sometimes before the sun even rose. She was sent on missions that were weeks long, sometimes even months. Sometimes, she didn’t even get to warn you or say goodbye before she had to get on a quinjet, just up and leaving and sending a text, apologizing for things she couldn’t control. 

  “Nat?” She hadn’t even realized that she stopped walking. But she had. Her arm was stretched out towards you because you hadn’t dropped her hand yet, and you closed the gap between the two of you with a look of concern on your face. “You okay?” 

“Um, yeah.” She cleared her throat and rubbed her face with her hand, blinking a few times as the familiar guilty feeling burned in her chest like acid. “Wanna keep walking?” 

For the rest of the walk, Natasha was stuck in her head. She was good at multitasking, so she indulged you and your words to the best of her ability while she thought about how terrible she felt for you. She couldn’t even take you birdwatching. And she thought that you would want to marry her? 

“Are you ready to head back, darling?” Natasha asked once the sun started to finally make its retreat, and after she felt that the others had left and were far ahead of them. They knew her just as well as you did, and they knew that it wasn’t the day that she was going to ask. 

“As long as it’s with you,” you murmured, and then you turned around to press your lips to hers in an innocent, binding kiss, and then pressing a kiss to her forehead. “I love you.” 

“I love you, too.” Natasha said back just as sincerely, wrapping her arms around you and hugging you right in the trail, closing her eyes tight and waiting for the feet and doubt to subside. 

It didn’t. 

§§

It took two more failed attempts for Steve to finally come knocking on her door one night. The night of the third failed proposal attempt, everyone was anxious to see a ring on your finger, and everyone just wanted it to be done so that they could plan the wedding. 

 Natasha was not on the same page. 

At first, the team was confused. Natasha’s love for you never wavered. It was as certain as the sun rising and falling, as the tide coming in and going out. It was constant, and it never faltered. So her backing out of making it official, of finally tying to knot with you, confused everyone. And then, they thought about what exactly made the change in conversation.   

  Wanda was the one to crack the code. She subtly picked at Natasha’s mind during the last of the failed proposals, and when she came back out into the present, she didn’t seem surprised at all. 

  The first thing that Wanda said when they all got back to the car was, “she doesn’t think that she’s enough.” 

Doubt. 

Natasha Romanoff never doubted herself. She was the best assassin in the world, capable of literally anything that she put her mind to. She had no reason to doubt herself. Until she started to work for someone else, not just for herself.

  “What is she doubting?” Tony muttered, the exhaustion at watching one of the boldest people he knew dancing around a woman who clearly loved her to death. “Y/N is going to say yes. She would say it if Nat asked her on the toilet.” 

 “No, it’s not that,” Wanda said softly, shaking her head. “She thinks that she’s… neglecting her. That her presence isn’t often enough. She feels guilty about her job.” 

 Silence. 

That was something many of them who had relationships dealt with. The balance between domestic life and life as an Avenger was hard to achieve. Not only did the Avenger have to know when to separate things. The Avenger also had to find someone who knew what they did, what their job entailed, and that they would both have to make sacrifices.  You knew how to do those things. So what was the problem?

“Y/N takes the distance and the danger really well,” Steve stated. “So, what’s the problem?” 

Wanda shrugged. “There was… there was more. But I didn’t have enough time to really see.” 

  While the others tried to figure out what was going on the the former assassin’s brain, Natasha was back in her room, sitting and twiddling her thumbs as she thought. Her eyes kept going back to the box, resting on it very now and then before she looked away in apprehension.  

 There were three knocks on her door, way too harsh and precise to be you. Besides, you hardly ever knocked, just as she never knocked on your door. “Um,” Natasha started, and then her brows furrowed as she put the ring in a drawer just in case. “Come in.” 

Steve Rogers was standing at her door, arms crossed, a slightly disappointed look set on his face. “What’s up?” 

Natasha raised a perfect brow. “You came to my room, Cap.” She crossed her arms as well, even though they both knew that neither was on the defensive. “Are you okay?” 

“Why haven’t you done it yet?” 

Her heart dropped to her toes, but she knew how to control her facial expressions. She was sure that she would never lose that skill, no matter how old she got and how much she would start to forget things. “Done what?” 

Steve shut the door. “You haven’t proposed to her yet. Why not?” 

“The time wasn’t right.” 

“That’s a lie.” 

She wasn’t used to Rogers calling her out so fast. Typically, she was an A list liar, and the only person she failed at lying to was you. She rarely ever did that, and when she did, it was for the better. Like, when she would tell you that she would be back within a few hours knowing that it would be about two nights still. Or when she would tell you that she wasn’t hurt, knowing good and well she had been bleeding out five minutes not even two minutes before she made the call. 

The second lie that came to mind came flying out of her mouth. “I’m scared she’ll say no.” 

Steve rolled his eyes, to Natasha’s surprise and sligh humor. “She’d find a way to say yes to you even in the afterlife, Natasha. You can’t play the lying game. Not with me, not with us, and especially not with her.” 

“Why are you so worked up right now?” 

“Because you deserve happiness, and it’s right there in front of you. You’re throwing it away, for what?” 

  “I never said that I wasn’t going to propose,” the redhead defended, but Steve just put his hands on his hips. 

 “I can see it in your eyes. You’re not going to unless someone pushes you, and because Y/N can’t in this situation, then I will.” His “Captain” voice was on. “It’s much more than you being worried about something that won’t ever happen, so what’s wrong, Natasha?” 

Natasha stood there for a second, her eyes narrowed on him as her face stayed still, and her mind raced a thousand miles an hour. She pursed her lips after a few seconds and breathed in, trying to decide whether or not to spill everything to one of the people that she trusted the most in life, one of the few that she trusted with her very life itself. Her mouth started moving before she could even approve its speech. 

 “Because of who I am and what I do, I can never give her what she deserves. I can never give her the suburban life, the calm life, the one where all she has to worry about is whether or not she’ll have to go to the store to get more cheese. I can never give her that.” 

 “I have money, she’ll never have to worry about going hungry or not being able to do things, yes, but at what cost? At the cost of me leaving her by herself one day for forever because of one wrong step? At the cost of me not being there to hold her at night or wake up with her in the morning? I can’t even do simple things with her like stargazing because I don’t have time for it. I don’t have time for her, do you realize how horrible that is? How terrible I feel?” 

Whatever Steve was expecting, it surely wasn’t that. Natasha was never one to have an outburst, even with the people she was the most comfortable with. But there she was, spilling all of the feelings she had been harboring within seconds, her eyes resting on Steve’s as they both refused to look away for more than a few seconds at a time. 

  “I can never give her a calm life without worry, or without pain. She’ll have to be scared about whether or not I got shot in Siberia, or if I’m rotting somewhere at the bottom of a cliff, or if I’m a prisoner halfway across the world. All I bring to the table is worry, and all I want to give her is what she gives me every second I’m with her. Peace. I want that so badly, and she deserves it more than anything. And I can’t give it to her.” 

Steve was silent for a moment, and a singular moment turned into two. “Have you ever asked her what she wants?” 

 The question stopped Natasha’s erratic thoughts in their tracks. “What?” 

 “Natasha, she’s been with you for years now, and I’ve never heard her complain about your job. I’ve never even seen her cry about you being gone more than anyone else would. She knows what you do, and she knew that when she agreed to be your girlfriend. She wouldn’t have stayed with you if she couldn’t handle it.” 

 “How do I know she’s handling it?” 

“Ask her.” Steve said softly, like he was nudging her with his words alone. “You’ll only know if you ask her.” 

  As she drove to your apartment that night, her mind was buzzing with nerves. “Ask her,” she mocked, making her voice deeper. “Not that easy.” 

  The door was open when she got there, enough to make Natasha shout your name with anxiety in her voice, and that sound was enough to make you come poking your head out from the kitchen. 

“You alright, sprinkles?” 

Natasha could breathe again. And when she inhaled, she smelled chicken in the air. She grinned. “Perfect now,” she said, shutting the door, locking it, and walking over to you. 

§§

It hit her in bed with you that she should bring it up. You two always had conversations before bed, it didn’t matter what about. Sometimes, the conversations were as serious as a heart attack, and other times, they were about whether or not Candyland was a good game. That night, it was leaning on the more serious side. 

  “Y/N,” Natasha called softly, and you hummed in response. “Do you… are you happy? With me?” 

The soft humming that was coming from your throat cut off abruptly at the question, a question Natasha had never asked you before. To say that you were confused was an understatement. You two had almost always been on the same page, and if one of you were to be unhappy, the other would know. “Of course I am, Natasha. Why? What’s wrong?” 

 “Do you think that my job complicates things between us?”

Natasha sat up after you did, looking at her like she was in the process of growing a second head. “What?” Before she couldn’t say much else, you were talking again. “Who put that idea into your head? No, your job doesn’t put a strain on us, unless you feel something on your side?” 

  “No, no,” Natasha rushed out. “I just… I don't want you to feel like I’m neglecting you. I don’t want you to feel like you’re not getting what you need from me, as a w-girlfriend.” 

 “Natasha,” your voice was soft in the night, a satisfied and sweet whisper that never failed to calm her nerves. “You give me everything I could ever ask for. You always have, and I think you always will. Is this about stargazing?” 

  “What?” 

“Don’t think I didn’t notice the way you got weird when we were walking in the park,” you said softly, your fingers tracing little hearts on her back. “I told you that we didn’t go stargaze or bird watching together, and you got upset. Is that what this is about?” 

  She couldn’t lie to you. “Somewhat.” 

“Oh, Nat,” you said, and you pulled her closer to you, resting your head on her chest and listening to her heartbeat, steady and constant. “I don’t care about that. All I care about is you.” 

 “Do you even see enough of me?” 

“Your job does not affect me whatsoever,” you answered. “I knew who you were and what you did when I asked you to go to that picnic with me, remember? I knew exactly what you did, and I knew around how much I could or could not be seeing you. I knew everything. So, why would I back out now after all these years? And why would I leave you?” 

  You had no idea how soothing your words were to Natasha in that moment. To you, it was just reassurance, affirmative words. To her, it was everything. It was the solution to all of her worries regarding the ring that was in her dresser back at the Tower. 

  “The point is, I could wait up for you to get home until four in the morning and make dinner for you after a long mission every day for the rest of my life, if you wanted me to.” The tracing of hearts never stopped on Natasha’s skin, but her breathing surely did for a second. “Because, what’s losing a few days compared to sharing a lifetime?” 

  Natasha smiled as the fear washed out of her system like it had never been there. More or less, you had just confessed to her that you wanted to be with her for a lifetime, and that for that lifetime, you didn’t mind any of the things that she was worried about. She was going to do it.  

§§

  After a short chat with the team, Natasha was finally ready. Like they could all tell that it was the day, they gave her a serious pep talk and Tony even muttered his premature congratulations, even though Wanda insisted that saying it before was a form of bad luck. 

 The plan was set. She was going to get you from work, pretend like you were going to go to dinner, and then take you stargazing. And then, she was going to pop the question. And hopefully, most likely, you were going to say “yes”. 

 When her car rolled up to the windows of your store while you were cleaning, you laughed. “Hi, Nat! What’s up?” 

 “Just here to pick you up,” she said with a smile, and your grinned at her. 

  “Alright, give me fifteen.” 

By the time you had gotten home, gotten dressed and were both seated in the car, Natasha’s hands were sweaty, and the weight of the little box was somehow heavier than anything Natasha had ever carried before. Her leg was bouncing up and down in the driver’s seat, and she hoped that you paid no mind to it. 

 “It’s pretty tonight,” you mused, and she nodded.  

“Yep, very clear.” And it was pure luck. She thanked all the gods that were ever worshipped that it was a clear night. “You can see everything.” 

“Yeah, you can.” 

“Do you… do you wanna go look at the stars?” She asked, and you turned your head to the side to look at her, a spark in your eyes that had just caught flame. 

  “You didn’t reserve anything, right?” 

Natasha had forgotten about the fake dinner already, her eager mind already onto the next stage. “Oh? No. I didn’t.” 

 “Then, we should ditch the food and do that. I’ll make you dinner after.”

 When Natasha parked on the side of the road, it was empty. It was emptier than it usually was at night, and the closest street lights were off. It made it much easier to see the stars. You were the first one to sit down on the dry grass, and you patted the spot beside you, urging Natasha to sit down with you. The second she did, you laid down and sighed, eyes on the sky. 

After a few moments of holding hands with eyes to the stars, roaming the dark blue sky in silence, you quietly began to speak. “It’s so pretty,” you murmured. “I haven’t done this in forever, and I hardly remember what it was like, but I can’t imagine that any other time could have been better than a time with you.” 

  Natasha turned her head into your neck, resting it there like she always did. “I love you,” she whispered, and you shivered at the intensity laced between the three words, the sincerity warming your heart. “I love you so much.” 

  “And I love you,” you responded, just as genuinely. You tapped her hand three times with your pointer finger, saying it twice. “More than I love the stars.” 

You two stayed there for hours, just watching the sky and ignoring the dull hunger pains that kept leaving and coming back. You spent a little time pointing out constellations, and Natasha told you how to navigate using the stars. Eventually, it was time to leave, and Natasha reached her hand out to you once she stood up. 

Natasha slowly walked you towards the car, but you didn’t notice how out of character it was for her to walk without a sense of urgency in the moment. She knew that you couldn’t hear their footsteps, but she could. They were soft and familiar, trying not to alert you of their presence, and they were succeeding. Natasha cleared her throat softly and swallowed her fears.

“Y/N,” she started, and you furrowed your brows at the usage of your name. “Do you remember how we first met?” 

You stopped walking, your back towards the approaching people. “Of course I do,” you responded, a smile on your face as you reminisced. “You ordered a cone with no sprinkles, what a weirdo.” 

 “Is it weird for me to say that I knew?” 

“Knew what?” 

“I knew that you were going to be a part of my life somehow. Whether it was going to be a friendship, a relationship, or even just an acquaintanceship, I didn’t know. But I knew you’d be around.” 

“That’s so sweet, Tasha.” Your bottom lip poked out and you went in to hug her, closing your eyes as you held her tight and then pulled away. “I think I knew after our third date.” 

Natasha cracked a smile, even though she felt like she was going to throw up. “Coney Island?” 

“Coney Island,” you confirmed, eyes glimmering under the starlight. Natasha was about to get lost in them, well on her way, before she shook her head and cleared her throat again, checking behind you discreetly to make sure that everyone was hiding before she turned you both sideways, so that your side profiles were visible to the others. 

“But… you have the most beautiful soul that I’ve ever had the privilege of meeting. You're everything I could ever dream of asking for, and I love you more than I’ve ever loved anything in my life. You’re my day and night, my high tide and low tide, and you’re the only person I’ll ever admit that I need. Because it’s true. You give me a peace that I never hoped to ever receive from anything, and I love you even more for that. You are just… you’re the one for me. And I…” she swallowed as her eyes tore away from yours, and she wiped her sweaty palms on her jacket. “I’m sorry I’m no good at speeches, but I...”

   She reached into both pockets at the same time and pulled the box out in a swift movement, and before you even knew what she had done, she was on one knee right in front of you. A strangled noise came from your throat, a gasp and a sigh all the same, and then you put one hand over your mouth. 

 Natasha’s eyes were watering, and so were yours. “I would be the luckiest woman in the world, the most privileged and honored person in the entire universe, if you let me marry you.” 

 There was utter silence for a second besides your harsh and surprised breathing. Then, a gasp left your mouth. “Natasha!” You shrieked, a hand still over your mouth as the tears ran down your face, reflecting the joy you felt on the inside. Your emotions roared and rushed inside of you, like a furious river of elation. You blinked rapidly, but you were so happy that your eyes didn’t even get that familiar burning feeling that came with the tears. 

“Is that even a fucking question?” You bent down to her level and your lips met hers, passionately and full of love and relief. Neither of you noticed the clapping and cheers after being so immersed in each other. 

 Natasha pulled away, a shit-eating grin on her face as she started to say something to you, right when you noticed everyone else around you. “Wait, baby, let me put the-”

“Have you been here the whole time?” You shouted towards the rest of the team, who were all watching with proud and excited expressions, and Wanda nodded. 

  “Most of the time,” she grinned, and you wiped the tears from your face, only to see the one and only Tony Stark recording you and Natasha, who was still on one knee in front of you, holding one of your hands. 

  “Can I?” Natasha asked from her kneeling position, gesturing towards the ring, and you nodded excitedly. She slipped it on your left ring finger, and you yanked her up with such excitement that she was sure that one of her bones popped, but she didn’t care. She kissed you again, a sweet and meaningful kiss, before she hugged you tightly. 

 “Thank you.” 

You would have been confused if you weren’t on a high.  You were going to get married. To Natasha. You were going to have forever with her, like you always wanted. “For what?” 

She kissed the shell of your ear softly, and then your jaw and cheek, right where you always kissed her. “For everything, darling.” You leaned back into her, your face in her neck, and she made brief eye contact with her friends, who were all looking at the display of affection with soft eyes and even more tender hearts. She closed her eyes as she felt your heart beating against her chest, savoring the feeling of being so close to the woman that she loved unconditionally, her soon-to-be wife. “For everything.” 

****

hey guys! hope y’all liked this one, i wrote it in two hours, and then thought about deleting it, but here she stands. if you liked it, feel free to like and reblog! comments are also widely appreciated, i love those! also, i wanna make friends up here so feel free to blow up my messages! hope you have a great day/night 💕

[strawbunniiee]

A Girl and a Ghost Ch. 3: The King’s Revenge

SOOOOO this is the part where the plot thickens :)

if anybody else wants me to tag them in these chapters so you know when they come out i will gladly do so andksnkfs

hope you enjoy! ive had tons of fun with writing these :D

dont mind me, just lettin my frendos know that this is a thing skfnkdjf

@salamifuposey @monsterbride99 aaAAA when i initially posted this i COMPLETELY forgot to do this a a a a a sorry

King Boo was furious.

How could that peasant, that foul impure abomination of a Boo do this to his beloved crown? It contained his power, it was so incredibly important to him...

And that filthy little purple haired brat! How could she so carelessly throw a rock at him like that?

He plopped his body down in a chair and marinated in his own rage for a few minutes.

After a few moments of enraged silence, he spoke.

"...I have got to get my revenge on those two. But... how will I do it?"

King Boo began to brainstorm a way to get the ghost Rabbid and his little idiot friend in hot water.

"Torture? No, no... one of them is a ghost. It wouldn't hurt him... Torture could be done with the little nuisance however. Perhaps a bit of childhood trauma will teach her not to mess with the wrong people." he thought aloud.

He spent almost fifteen whole minutes thinking of gruesome ways to get back at them, until it finally struck him.

"...Oooh, I know. I know exactly what to do now. It'll mostly affect that bloated rabbit, but I can still do some damage to his moronic pipsqueak pal."

He grinned maliciously and floated towards the doors of his manor.

"I'm about to open up some old wounds of yours, Tommy." he said to himself.

———

Meanwhile, Phantom was racing through the sky with Jawaii in his arms, panicking. He would never let King Boo lay his foul hands on her.

They were both absolutely dead silent the whole time until Jawaii opened her mouth.

"...Do you know that guy?"

Phantom halted for a moment and looked down at the young alien he held. "...Yes, I do, but I don't think I would like to go into detail at the moment. We have a very... rough history, I will say."

"Oh... I get it. It's okay, I won't pry. I understand." Jawaii said.

"Just remember that if King Boo ever tries to hurt us, I'll make sure he will regret it for the rest of his days." promised the Rabbid ghost. "I swear on it."

Phantom resumed his flight and soared down to the ground safely. He gently set her down in the grass.

"That was actually really fun! We should do that again sometime! ...without being scared off by an evil ghost, obviously. That would just make it less fun." said Jawaii.

"I'm glad you were entertained, I suppose... King Boo is quite intimidating. And rude." said Phantom.

Jawaii put her hands on her hips. "Well, yeah! I mean, he made fun of your weight! No friend of mine is getting made fun of like that!"

Phantom laughed a bit. "Oh, don't worry, I wasn't that harmed by that statement. I er, get that all the time."

She frowned. "Why do people tease you about that, that's dumb! Besides, I think you're perfect just the way you are!" She gave him a hug.

He hugged back and smiled. "Awww... thank you. I was born like this, I can't help it you see."

"You're a giant fluffy singing ghost bunny with a mustache, I have no idea how anybody could hate THAT! Cuz I don't."

"Oh, don't make me blush from all of these compliments!" said Phantom, smiling.

Jawaii jokingly grinned evilly. "Never. I'm gonna shower you in compliments 'til you DROWN!"

She cackled maniacally as she began relentlessly saying nice things about him with Phantom begging her to stop. Soon, it became a full-on flattery war to see who could out-compliment the other. They had a grand old time.

Eventually, the sun began to set.

"Oh yikes, I better get home. I had no idea we stayed out here for so long! Mom is probably having a heart attack as we speak!" said Jawaii.

Phantom was quite alarmed, his ears sprung up in worry and concern. "She's having a what?! Oh, poor child, I hope your mother is all right..."

She burst out laughing hysterically.

"Wh-what's so funny? I thought your mother was dying!"

"No, dummy! That was an exaggeration, I meant that she's probably WORRIED about me!" Jawaii continued giggling like a maniac.

"Ah. I see now... Thank you for correcting me!" Phantom joined in on the laughter.

They got themselves together after a moment.

"Oh yeah, mind if you could fly me over to my house..? We're kinda far away from home." said Jawaii.

"Of course!" Phantom replied happily.

Jawaii climbed on his back and the two flew home.

———

After flying back to town, Phantom gently set Jawaii down in front of her home.

"See you soon, my friend. I enjoyed showing you around Spooky Trails today!" said Phantom.

"Cya tomorrow Phantom! I had a good day today too!" She ran up to him and gave him one last hug.

She walked up to her door and waved goodbye to Phantom. He waved back.

"Moooom! I'm hoooome!"

Jawaii's stepmother Stella ran in.

"Oh, Jawaii! Thank goodness you're all right! I was so worried, where were you?"

"Sorry I came home late! But I spent today with a friend of mine."

Stella had a look of pleasant surprise on her face. "You made a friend? That's so wonderful! I know you haven't really ever had any friends, honey, I'm so happy to hear that you finally made one!" She smiled.

Jawaii grinned. "Yeah! I'll tell you allllll about him! He's the best."

They sat down at the dinner table with the food Stella made.

Jawaii dug into her mashed potatoes and ate it like a wild animal that had nothing to eat for the past 3 weeks.

"Honey, chew slowly. I don't want you choking!" said Stella.

"Sorry, Mom..." Jawaii said, frowning.

"It's okay. I don't want you in the hospital or anything, especially after you just made a new friend!"

"Oh, I've known him for a while, actually. We've been hanging out together a lot!" she smiled, her mouth still full of food.

"...Jawaii, sweetie, don't talk with food in your mouth.“

"Oh yeah! Sorry again Mom.."

"Anyways, that's why you've been out so much lately? I'm so happy for you, Jawaii!" Stella smiled.

Jawaii gulped down some water. "Yep! I'm glad I'm his friend too!"

They spent dinner talking about all of the fun adventures she and Phantom had gone on.

Jawaii however, conveniently left out any mention of them being in danger, she wouldn't want to worry her stepmother of course!

"Oh yeah! I meant to ask you this, but I got totally sidetracked but where's Dad? And where's Hakai?" asked Jawaii.

"Your father is out destroying planets again, and your sister is having a sleepover with some friends of hers." said Stella.

"Ohhhh. Wonder why Dad's out so late. Hope he's alright."

"I'm sure he's fine, hon."

Jawaii had another sister though, and her name was Roe. She went to a boarding school and wasn't home most of the time.

She stretched and yawned. "Hey Mom, I think I'm gonna hit the hay today."

Stella gave her a small look of surprise. "Oh! You are? Usually you're quite a night owl. Maybe you're just tired from all your little adventures with Phantom."

Jawaii smiled. "Yeah. Maybe. Anyways, g'night Mom! Love ya, don't let the bed bugs bite."

Stella gave Jawaii a hug. "Aww, good night sweetie. Love you too.”

Jawaii ran upstairs, changed into her nightgown, brushed her teeth and jumped into bed, quickly falling asleep after her long, tiring but fun day.

———

That same night, the Mushroom Kingdom was as quiet as ever when it was nighttime. The once colorful, cheerful inviting land was deathly silent, almost hauntingly so.

Princess Peach was safely tucked in her bed, sleeping peacefully.

But little did the sleeping princess know, this would not remain for long.

King Boo had finally made it to the castle after venturing there to exact his revenge. He knew how dearly Phantom loved Peach. Breaking them apart forever would be the ultimate punishment for stepping on his turf. He knew that either way, the plan would work. If Phantom didn't come to the manor, him and Peach would be separated forever. If he did, however, it would give the vengeful king the chance to trap him and Jawaii in his manor, to torture them and possibly even kill them somehow.

He knew he could kill Jawaii, that was no problem, but Phantom...? Could he possibly do it again? ...No, he's a ghost now. He can't be killed again. But the king knew that even if he couldn't die, he could still make him suffer for as long as he wanted. Possibly even for eternity.

He phased through the castle walls, not having any of the guards notice him. Then, he finally found her room. There Peach slept, defenseless, ready for the taking.

In the blink of an eye, he snatched her from her bed.

Peach immediately woke up and let out a shrill scream of horror, alerting the Toads guarding her door.

But it was too late. He had already burst out her window with her and was headed straight towards his mansion.

———

Tap, tap, tap.

Jawaii woke up very late that night to a tapping sound she heard at her window. She went over to it to find one of the Peek-A-Boos she had met in Spooky Trails, tapping away at her window.

"Hey... aren't you that kid who Phantom is friends with?"

Jawaii rubbed her eye and yawned. "Yeah. Why do you ask? And how are you at my house anyway?"

The Peek-A-Boo had a somber expression on his face. "Well... I have to tell you some... bad news."

Jawaii was horrified of what was about to come out of his mouth next. Did something terrible happen to Phantom?

"His love, Princess Peach was kidnapped by King Boo. And... Phantom is gone. He went off to go save her. Knowing King Boo, Phantom may not come back in one piece. ...The other Rabbids told me it was best to go tell you. That way, you would know where he is. You deserve to know..."

Jawaii was devastated. How could this happen?

She knew she had to save him. And if she couldn't save him... then she wouldn't let him suffer alone.

"...No. I'm not going to let this happen to him."

The Peek-A-Boo was taken aback in surprise by Jawaii's response. "...I dunno if you should go. You're only a kid. You could get seriously hu-"

"I don't care." said Jawaii.

She jumped into her closet and changed into her usual clothes, grabbed a lantern and ran out of the house and into the black, haunted forest that she met Phantom in.

[call-signvalkyrie]

Save Tonight

A/N: This was inspired by “Save Tonight” by Eagle-Eye Cherry. I’ve had that song on repeat for DAYS so I figured why not! This is also my first Star Wars fic! I hope y’all enjoy. (Flash backs and inner though will be in italics). 

Pairings: Poe Dameron x Mechanic!Reader

Warnings: Language

Word Count: 2,250

Go on and close the curtains Cause all we need is candlelight You and me, and a bottle of wine To hold you tonight (oh yeah) Well we know I'm going away And how I wish, I wish it weren't so So take this wine and drink with me And let's delay our misery

Poe remembered the day he met you. He got up early that morning to give his X-Wing a good look over after the rough patch he had gone through the night before. He wasn’t much of a mechanic, but he could get the job done. He took a step into the hangar and there you were. Grease suit tied around your waist; white t-shirt stained from your using it as a rag. Your hair in a double braid down your back, elbows deep in the engine. He had never seen a more beautiful sight. At least he thought that until he saw you smile. He had to steady himself on a nearby fuel container before he doubled over completely.  

“Hey! Sorry to scare ya, I’m Y/N.” You said, sliding off the side of the craft and down to the hanger floor. You grabbed a rag out of your pocket to wipe away some of the grease before offering your hand.

“And I’m...”

“Poe. I know.” You flashed that smile again. Maker, he could have kissed you right then and there. He had never thought his name could sound so beautiful but there it was.

And here he was. Standing at the door of your room like an idiot. It had been almost two years since that first meeting and nothing about the way he felt about you had changed. He had teased, dropped hints but you never seemed to get the message. There had been a time when he tried to get you off his mind but he just couldn’t shake his feeling for you. He had been almost convinced you would never feel the same way until about a week ago.

One Week Earlier

“Finn! I’m serious! You can’t tell anyone, not even Rey.”  

“Y/N, I’m sorry to tell you but everyone already knows.” Finn gave you a cheeky grin that made you want to slap him. There was no way anyone knew how you felt about Poe. He was your best friend and had been for the last two years. You had done an amazing job at keeping your secret. Well, you thought so anyway.

“What do you mean everyone already knows! I’ve literally never told anyone. Shit, I've barely even admitted it to myself.” That was completely true. Poe would never feel for you in any way other than a friend and you were okay with that. You just weren't ready for everyone to rub it in your face.

“Whatever you say Y/N/N, I’m just telling you what I know.” Finn threw his hands up in mock defeat.  

“Whatever, Finn.” You said, sticking your tongue out at him as you walked past and into the hanger.  

“Finn! Finn did she just...” Poe came around the corner, catching his friend by the arm.

“Did she just say what I think she did?”

“Maker, Poe. You both really are so blind!” Finn rolled his eyes, putting his hands on his hips. “You two just need to get your shit together. I’m tired of this!” Finn threw his hands up in real defeat this time.  

“I know, man. I know. I just don’t know how to tell her.” Poe ran his hand down his face. He had to tell her.  

“You have to tell her. Soon.” Finn grabbed his friend by the sholders, shaking him gently.  

“You’re right. I will, soon. I promise.”

Save tonight and fight the break of dawn Come tomorrow, tomorrow I'll be gone Save tonight and fight the break of dawn Come tomorrow, tomorrow I'll be gone

Well, Poe. It’s now or never. He took a deep breath and knocked.  

“It’s open!” Your muffled voice came from deep within the room. Poe punched in your security code and stepped through the sliding door. You turned to see him, still wearing your grease suit.  

“Hey, handsome! When did you get back?” You grabbed your friend in a hug and gave him a good once over. “You take any damage this time?”

“No, thankfully. I’m fine.” Poe said, giving you a soft smile.

“I was talking about the X-Wing! I worked way too hard on that motivator for you to fuck it up again!” You said, winking at the taller man.

“Ha-ha, you’re so funny.” Poe said in with a fake laugh. He was so nervous. Get it together, Poe. “Anyway, you busy tonight? I’ve got a debrief in about 20 minutes but after I thought we could do something. Maybe take a speeder out to the edge of the base and hang out? Just you and me?”  

There was a twinkle in his eyes that you couldn’t place. Something about him was different today. He had more of a spring in his step but he almost looked nervous.

“Sure. That’ll give me some time to shower and change. Meet you back here after the brief?”  

“Sounds perfect.” Poe smiled then and pulled you in for another hug. “See you in about an hour?”

One Hour Later

After scrubbing most of the grime and grease from your body, you climbed out of the shower feeling relatively clean and refreshed. You stepped into your room, letting your y/c/h fall out of your towel. After pulling on a pair of black leggings and a grey tunic, you slipped on your favorite boots and a light jacket. Swiping on a bit of mascara, you let your hair fall freely over your shoulder, opting to wear it down instead of in your usual braids. Something felt different about tonight but you couldn’t put your finger on it. Taking a look at your data pad, you realized there was a comms message.  

------------------------------Communications Log 7189443------------------------------------

-------------Communicatons

     ------------------Messages

                    --------------One (1) Unread Message

--------- Dameron, Poe

Y/N/N,

Running late, explain later. Meet me in the hanger at 22:00. Bring caf, please.

P.D.

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

There's a log on the fire And it burns like me for you Tomorrow comes with one desire To take me away (oh it's true) It ain't easy to say good-bye Darlin' please, don't start to cry Cause girl you know I've got to go (oh) And Lord I wish it wasn't so

Running out the door, you had just enough time to get the caf before getting to the hanger.  

“He, Y/N. Sorry about the short notice.” Poe called to you as you walked through the hangar. He was leaning against a borrowed speeder, a blanket draped across the seat.  

“Everything alright? I got here as quick as I could.” You walked up to the taller man, handing him a cup and taking a seat in the speeder.

“Yeah, um. Actually, no.” Poe climbed into the speeder, turning to look at you full on. “There’s something I need to tell you but I want to show you something first.”  

15 minutes later you were on the farthest outskirts of the base. There was a small clearing, mostly made of scrubby brush and a few spindly trees. Above the clearing, however, was the most incredible light show you had ever seen.  

“Poe, what is that?” you stared up in amazement. It was like the stars were playing tag across the night sky. Zig-zagging and blinking back and forth, changing every color and then back again.  

“They’re native to the planet. Completely harmless and virtually undetectable during the day but at night. Well, they do this.”  

The whole time you were staring at this mesmerizing light show, Poe couldn’t do anything but look at you. The way your eyes sparkled as the colors danced across the sky, your lips slightly parted as a soft smile spread across your face.

“Beautiful.” Poe said aloud. He couldn’t help himself.

“It is. I’ve never seen anything like this in my whole life.” You said, turning to look at him.

Poe stepped closer, filling the space between the two of you.  

“Y/N, I didn’t just bring you out here to show you this. I need to tell you something.” Poe took both of your hands in his. His heart felt like it was going to explode right out of his chest. He took a deep breath.

“My debrief earlier, the reason it went over. We’ve been sent on a new recon mission starting first thing in the morning. I leave at first light.”

“Okay, and you brought me all the way out here to tell me you want the galaxy’s most incredible mechanic to hitch a ride out with you?” You giggled, squeezing Poe’s hands in yours.”

“I wish it was that simple. No, Y/N...” Poe paused. Why was telling you how he felt so hard?  “I brought you all the way out here to tell you that this mission is different. I’ll be infiltrating enemy lines. I’ll be working on important intel that could help end this war. Leia says it could take up to 5 weeks to get the information.”

“5 weeks? Holy shit, that’s a long time, Poe. Is Finn at least going with you? What about Rey? I...” you were starting to feel a bit uneasy. Why was he doing this? He had gone on long missions before. Just last cycle he had gone on a 3-week recon.  

“Poe, what are you not telling me? What's wrong?”  

“Hey, hey. Calm down, everything is okay.” He stepped closer, cupping your jaw with his hand and caressing it slightly.  “Rey has to stay here and continue her training. Leia wants her to be almost finished by the time we get back. Chewie and Finn will be with me, yes but I wanted to tell you before everyone else started talking.” Poe shook his head. It was now or never.

“Start talking? Poe what do you mean? What happened at the debrief?” You pulled away from him, suspicion taking over everything else.  

“So, I might have asked if we could push our leave time to first light instead of immediately. And the General may or may not have read me the riot act after she dismissed everyone, causing me to be late.”

“Poe, why would you do that?! This mission is obviously super important, why would you...”

“Because, Y/N...” He stepped closer again, taking your hands back in his larger ones.  

“Because I wanted to spend possibly my last night here on this planet with the girl of my dreams. Because I couldn’t bear to leave this planet for 5 weeks without telling you how absolutely head over heels in love with you I am. I couldn’t be half way across the galaxy knowing that I was willingly putting myself in harm's way every single day and I never had the balls to tell you how I feel. I’m completely and totally in love and I don’t want to go one single second longer without you knowing.”  

You stood there, stunned. Was this a joke? This had to be a joke. There was no way that, Poe Dameron, THE Poe Dameron just said those words to you. But he did and here you are and HOLY SHIT you thought you might faint dead away on the spot.  

“Y/N/N, you okay...”

Before he has the chance to finish you grabbed him by the collars and pulled him into you, crashing your lips into his. He wraps his arms around your waist, lifting you to the edge of the speeder. Running your hands up to his curls, you give them a soft tug which pulls a low moan from deep in his throat. Your tongues dance together in perfect synchrony, both of you not wanting to break this perfect moment. Eventually you both pull away, lips swollen from the contact.  

“I really thought you’d never say it. I’ve felt the same way about you for so long now but I never even imagined you felt the same way.” You flashed him your signature smile.  

“So, you feel the same then?” He asked, a silly grin spread across his face. “Why didn’t you ever say anything? All this time we’ve spent together, all the time I spent trying to get a read on you and never could.” He smiled, kissing your knuckles.  

“You’re joking right? You’re asking me if I feel the same. Were you there five seconds ago? Do you not remember that kiss?” You laugh, lightly slapping his chest. “I never wanted to tell you how I felt. I thought it would ruin our friendship. Figured we’ve lost enough due to this war. Didn’t want to make us another casualty.”

“Yeah, I remember. I just want to hear you say it.” He smiled, kissing your lips again. “I understand. I’ve thought those same things all this time but, I don’t know. I just... This time is different. I needed you to know. And I’m overjoyed to know you feel the same.” he smiled that damned smile of his.  

“I love you, Poe. I have for a long time. I’m glad to finally let you know that. Ya know, to your face?” You giggled, deepening the kiss.  

“So, did you really ask Leia if you guys could leave at first light?”

"I did,” Poe said, “So just get ready for all that teasing that’s heading your way.” He gave you a wink.

Save tonight and fight the break of dawn Come tomorrow, tomorrow I'll be gone Save tonight and fight the break of dawn Come tomorrow, tomorrow I'll be gone

[aces-to-apples]

Written for Day 1: Hurt/Comfort of Codywan Week 2020 @codywanweek

Here on AO3

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Category: M/M Relationships: CC-2224 | Cody/Obi-Wan Kenobi, Alpha-17 & Obi-Wan Kenobi Notable Tags: Blood and Injury, Concussions, Mandalorian Culture, Blunting Teeth

“daze of our lives”

“You’re an idiot,” Cody said bluntly, manhandling Obi-Wan onto the ‘fresher sink like he weighed nothing more than a bunch of Alderaani emerald grapes. A feat made even more impressive by the fact that Obi-Wan was fully kitted out in a standard set of trooper armor and the commander wasn’t even wearing his own blacks.

“Yes, Cody, thank you for reminding me.”

The look he shot Obi-Wan was normally reserved for misbehaving children—or shinies, as the case may be.

Obi-Wan attempted a reassuring smile only for it to turn into a grimace as the movement pulled at his split lip, renewing its sluggish flow of blood once more. For reasons known only to himself, Alpha-17 had focused rather heavily on causing his face as much damage as possible, rather than seeking to neutralize him efficiently. Of course, Alpha-17 was a bit of a bastard with a vicious streak a parsec wide, so perhaps he’d simply nursed a grudge against Obi-Wan all this time.

Two years and change was a long time to hang onto said grudge, and seemed more than a little extreme, but he supposed anything could happen. Whatever the reason, it made pacifying his commander nearly impossible.

Scoffing, Cody wetted a rag and began furiously cleaning Obi-Wan’s face of… well, gore was perhaps an accurate description. His movements weren’t rough, by any means, but they were perfunctory and Obi-Wan didn’t need to be an empath to feel the low-grade burn of his anger in the tight quarters of the refresher. “Complete fripping moron,” he growled, as more and more damage was revealed beneath the blood.

“Cody,” Obi-Wan began, bracing himself as best he could. He knew that tone of voice well. “There’s no need—”

“How does a Jedi,” Cody cut him off, voice dangerously mild, “cock up so badly that he ends up in a punishment spar with the only Alpha who can nominally stand him?”

“Now that’s hardly fair to Alpha’s age-mates,” he protested weakly as Cody shoved his head and began examining his possibly-broken nose. “I’ve never had the pleasure of meeting any others from the Alpha class.”

“Seventeen warned them all away. Calls you a menace.”

Cody’s voice was serious—dark, even—but Obi-Wan snorted. “Of course he did,” he said, fond without worry and accepting the notion without doubt. “I do regret the number of grey hairs myself and Anakin have no doubt given him over the course of our acquaintance.”

“The stress doesn’t even have the decency to slow the bastard down,” Cody muttered darkly in reply. “Let alone kill him.”

There was a worrying shift in his ribs as Obi-Wan wheezed but he ignored it because, damn it, the idea of something so mundane as stress being the thing to kill Alpha-17 was unbearably funny at that precise moment. Cody shifted back on his feet and watched him impassively. It took a moment for him to realize that perhaps what he was feeling was what the troopers referred to as punch-drunk.

The corner of Cody’s mouth tugged up. “Yep,” he drawled, “that’s what happens when you let one of the Alpha class get their hands on you like that.”

“Oh,” Obi-Wan said, frowning. “Did I say that out loud?”

“Mmm-hmm.”

“Dear me. I believe I may have a concussion, Cody.”

The commander did not look impressed by his powers of deduction. “I told you that ten minutes ago, General.” He scowled and rinsed off the cloth in his hands before turning to Obi-Wan’s split and battered knuckles. “I peeled you off the mats and you said you were ‘happy to see my pretty, grumpy face’ and I said ‘you definitely have a concussion if you’re admitting I’m pretty in mixed company.’ And then you tripped over your own boots and tried to blame Anakin for it.”

“Mmm.”

“Still with me, sir?”

Obi-Wan hummed again, feeling more and more like he was floating as the adrenaline filtered out of his system and pain filtered in. “Always, my dearest commander. Always.”

He sighed but said nothing again for a while, tisking over the damage Obi-Wan had managed to do to himself without the aid of Alpha-17. “What even happened to your gloves and gauntlets?” he wondered aloud, and scoffed when Obi-Wan cheerfully admitted that he hadn’t a clue. “Still haven’t told me what you did to deserve a punishment spar from an Alpha. Don’t think I’m going to just let that one go.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Obi-Wan enunciated with care. “I simply don’t wish to tell you because then you’ll be disappointed with me.”

“And that’s a valid reason to piss off your marshal commander instead?”

“Oh, not at all! I’m just far better equipped to deal with you being angry with me than disappointed.” A punch-sober Obi-Wan would likely not have admitted that, but the Obi-Wan of the moment was perhaps not as wise as he. All he wanted was Cody’s continuing single-minded care and to all the Corellian hells with his dignity. “You have a remarkable talent for making me feel utterly worthless when I’ve disappointed you.”

The silence that followed that statement went on long enough that Obi-Wan had nearly forgotten it by the time Cody responded. “I don’t mean to make you feel like that,” he said with a gusty sigh. “That’s not what that look is supposed to mean.”

Of that Obi-Wan had always been certain, but disappointment had always been inextricably linked with feelings of personal failure and worthlessness, ever since he was a child. Coruscanti Jedi initiates were a cutthroat bunch to start with and his age-mates in particular had been even moreso than the average.

“It’s all right,” he said absently, when he realized Cody was waiting for a reply. “It pushes me to do more, do better, always has.”

“That’s not very reassuring, jetii,” Cody grumbled, swatting away the hand that attempted to clap him on the shoulder. “Quite the opposite.”

“Oh, I’m a jetii again?” Obi-Wan attempted to rouse himself from his post-beating lethargy. The return to the uncomplimentary epithet that Alpha-17 had passed on to his commander before their meeting boded ill. It’d taken months for Cody to finally wheedle out of him why he always chuckled at its use and several more for him to cautiously switch to the less aggressive Traat’ad. “You only use that when I’ve done something to deserve, well…”

“A punishment spar from Seventeen?” Cody supplied, deceptively innocent. “I can only assume you have, if you’re letting him turn your face into paste like this.”

“I—”

“When I’m disappointed in you, it’s because I know that you’ve made your decisions based on faulty logic and you’re not dumb enough to buy into faulty logic about anyone but yourself,” he continued, unconcerned with Obi-Wan’s attempt to defend himself. “When Alpha-Seventeen is disappointed in you, it’s because he knows you’re not stupid and thinks you’re acting like it anyway. So, what’d you do this time?”

Obi-Wan sighed and let his head fall back against the mirror. “Have you ever been through a ‘punishment spar,’ as you call them?” he asked, feeling very tired.

“Fortunately, I’ve managed to avoid pissing any of the Alpha class off quite that badly.”

He smiled, winced, and soldiered on, as it were. “It’s based on an old Mandalorian ritual: pelir edee. Went through it when I was on Mandalore as a padawan.” Cody hummed, well-aware of its history as well as his own. “Usually it’s because a clan member has lashed out at another, disproportionately so, or deliberately brought harm to the clan.”

“You take a swing at Seventeen?” the commander said, joking, but also curious. “Because if you did then I take back calling you an idiot and will be much nicer at your funeral.”

“It’s also—” Obi-Wan swallowed “—unofficially, you understand, used when a leader ignores the advice of their clan members and so brings harm to them through incompetence.”

Cody doesn’t respond for another long while.

“It wasn’t your fault.”

“It was.”

“Our intel was faulty—”

“—and if I had listened to your concerns then we wouldn’t be on this planet you all despise so much, collecting shinies to fill the empty spaces where loved ones once stood.” He had nothing to say to that, knowing full well that Obi-Wan had the right of it. “Alpha got his hands on the mission report that brought us here and asked me to explain what happened. I obliged. And he suggested a spar.”

“With Blitz, Colt, and Havoc.”

Obi-Wan inclined his head. “Naturally. He suggested, as well, that we all armor up for it. Apparently he doesn’t approve of my choice to return to wearing Jedi tunics.”

“None of us approve of that,” Cody muttered. He’d finished cleaning and bandaging Obi-Wan’s hands long ago, now just holding them in a gentle grip. “You don’t listen to us about that, either.”

Well and that was fair.

"Ni ceta, Kote," Obi-Wan said, not meeting his eyes. "I should have listened to your council and now your brothers are marching far away because of my…"

Pride, arrogance, conceit.

"… mistake," Cody finished, quiet, gentle. "It was a mistake. One that cost us, but you're not omniscient, and you did the best you could. That's all any of us can do."

"You knew better."

"Then learn from this time and listen to me the next."

Obi-Wan nodded and allowed himself to be tugged out of the 'fresher and stripped of the death-white armor. Each piece of plastoid was tugged out of magnetic alignment by sure hands and piled out of the way, until nothing remained but his blacks. Those hands then pushed and maneuvered until Obi-Wan was lying on his side in the commander's bed, Cody's chest pressed right up against his back.

The two of them rested like that for a long time, settling together until their hearts beat nearly in sync. Then Cody, his arms wrapped firmly around Obi-Wan's body, clasped their hands together.

"What did Seventeen want you to see, Obi-Wan?"

He linked their fingers together more securely before answering.

"As a Jedi, I have a responsibility to all life in the galaxy. As a general, I have a responsibility to the lives under my command." He took a deep breath. "As a partner, I have a responsibility to treat you with honor and respect. When I ignored your council, I failed in all of those responsibilities, and your brothers paid the price. Alpha-Seventeen wanted me to see those failures and understand that I need to trust you, and the rest of our comrades, in order to keep such a tragedy from occurring again."

"… Sounds quite kind for one of Seventeen's punishment spars."

Obi-Wan smiled as best he could. "Well, I'm sure he'd phrase it differently were someone to ask him. Regardless, I should have done better and will endeavor to do so next time."

"Good," Cody murmured into the back of his neck. "I love you, Obi-Wan."

"And I you, Cody."

[coyotesongwriting]

When It Rains, It Pours, Ch. 6

Avengers - Bucky Barnes/Reader

Chapter 6 - Photographs 

Story Summary:  Things are going great between you and Bucky, until one day they aren’t. He dumps you, not knowing that what you’d wanted to talk to him about was the positive pregnancy test you held behind your back.

Chapter Summary: Steve has a photograph of you and Aspen, what will he do now?

Author’s Note: Thank you guys for reading this! All mistakes are my own!

Disclaimer: I don’t own the characters so don’t sue me please. I just really like them haha

Tag List (if you want to be added or removed let me know!):    @he-is-chaotic-she-is-psychotic @queenoftheunderdark  @samsgoddess @redfoxwritesstuff​ @iheartsebastianstan​ @alexakeyloveloki​ @fookingmuffins​ @yasnooshka24​ @redfoxwritesstuff​ @amazon-belle​ @shootingstarsaretearsofheaven​ @kinkywitchy​ @superwonderwholock​ @redhairedfeistynerd​ @paranoiadestroyah​

Previous Chapter

The next morning, Steve asked Friday to have Clint and Nat report to his office bright and early. Clint was still rubbing the sleep out of his eyes when Steve set the unfolded photo on the desk in front of him. 

Nat turned to look at Clint, who still hadn’t figured out what was going on. “One fucking day. You couldn’t even make it one fucking day?!” she hissed, smacking him upside the head, hard. 

Clint’s eyes flew open as he finally woke all the way up, and he grabbed the photo off the desk. He began to open and close his mouth repeatedly, not quite sure what to say until he finally settled on a simple, “Fuck.”

“I’m waiting to hear the explanation here guys,” Steve said, leaning back in his chair with his arms crossed over his chest.

“Uh, well, you see, I was babysitting my neighbor’s kid?” Clint offered.

Steve just raised his eyebrows and sighed, waiting for the truth. 

“Alright. Alright fine.” Clint grumbled, “But you can’t tell anyone you figured it out from me. I don’t care if you say you were keeping me under surveillance to make sure I didn’t do something stupid, but please please please don’t tell anyone.”

Steve nodded his head once, not promising anything, and Clint opened his mouth to continue. Before he could speak, however, Nat slammed her foot down on his. He whimpered, shooting her a glare as he leaned down to rub his foot. 

“Seriously Nat?” Steve huffed, “There’s literally a photograph here of you together with Loki, Thor, and [Y/N]. Are you really going to pretend you know nothing?”

Nat merely shrugged and leaned back in her chair to mimic Steve’s posture. After a beat, Clint leaned back too.

“Okay look. You can either explain this to me, right now, alone. Or, I go get Tony, Bruce, and Bucky and tell them you’ve apparently been seeing [Y/N] and show them the photograph. Which route works better for you two?” Steve asked, frustrated. 

“Steve. I know you better than that, you wouldn’t do that. You and I both know it would only hurt Bucky” Nat reasoned, not budging.

“True. But at this point, I’ve got three team members lying to me for who knows how long? This stops today, and I need to know what’s going on.” Steve was willing to play hardball if she was. When Nat didn’t speak, and Clint wouldn’t even look at him, he continued, “Friday? Would you please ask Bucky, Tony, and Bruce to come here? We need to have a team discussion.”

“Certainly, sir” Friday’s voice echoed throughout the now silent office. 

Nat and Steve sat in their chairs, neither one willing to be the one to budge. Not on this. When the door to Steve’s office began to open, Clint jumped to his feet and slammed it shut, jamming his chair under the door.

“Uh… What the hell?” Tony asked, his voice muffled by the door.

“Sorry Tony, I uh, I got some personal business with Cap here. Y’know. Come back later?” Clint hoped that would be the end of it.

“Tony - “ Steve started to speak but was cut off by Clint hissing at him to shut up.

“Fine! I’ll talk!” Clint whisper yelled at Steve.

“Sorry Tony, guess we’ll talk later? Can you let the others know?” Steve said, sitting forward in his chair and smiling at Clint. 

Nat turned to Clint, “Seriously?! Are you fucking kidding?” 

“This better not be some sex thing” Tony yelled, and they heard him retreat down the hall. 

Clint moved away from Nat, out of her immediate reach and turned to Steve, “I’ll tell you but you can’t tell the others.”

“Yeah, no deal. I can’t promise that” Steve shrugged, “But I can say I’ll do my best to keep private stuff, private.”

Nat muttered under her breath in Russian, and Clint’s face paled. Steve cleared his throat, and Clint sighed, sitting on the desk next to Steve. His chair was still keeping Steve’s office door firmly shut. 

“I was out yesterday and I saw [Y/N]. She was ice skating with Thor and Loki, said she  was only back for a day trip. She didn’t want anyone here knowing but said I could hang with her for the day. I asked if Nat could join us, and she said fine. We hung out, she left” Clint rambled.

“So how many times have you guys seen her since she left?” Steve’s face was unreadable.

“Just this once. She hadn’t been back on planet since she left, promise.”

Steve grabbed the photo back from Clint, and pointed at Aspen, “And who is this?”

Clint turned to look at Nat and swallowed before shutting his mouth. She glared at Clint, and the two began to sign to each other in ASL rapidly. 

“Okay. Seriously, someone needs to tell me what the hell is going on” Steve was getting pissed at this point.

“We promised not to tell anyone, Steve. And she finally agreed to let us come visit her now. She’s going to kill me for you finding out” Clint sighed.

“Look. I get it. But, if this is what I think it is, this is something we have to discuss. Please, just help me out here, guys” Steve paused before pointing at Aspen again, “Who is this?”

Clint’s voice sounded defeated, “That’s Aspen. She’s [Y/N]’s daughter.”

“You mean Bucky and [Y/N]’s daughter?” Steve clarified.

“Well she didn’t outright say it, but since Aspen’s birthday was two days ago, sure seems that way. And I mean… Just look at the kid” Clint shrugged.

“Fuck.” Steve sighed.

~~~~~~

Two hours later, Steve found Bucky alone in the training room. Bucky was sitting by the weights, catching his breath from a particularly rough work out when Steve approached.

“We need to talk, Bucky.” Steve’s voice was determined as he took a seat across from Bucky.

“What do you need?” Bucky asked as he wiped the sweat off his face.

“I need you to tell me what happened the night you broke up with [Y/N]” Steve started.

Bucky sighed and brushed him off and went to get up, "Steve. We've been over this, let it go already. Seriously."

Steve placed his hand on Bucky's shoulder and held him in the seat, his face serious, "This is important. You know I wouldn't be bugging you about this if it wasn't, I need to know everything that happened."

"What's going on?"

"Just tell me from the start. I need to know everything that happened between the two of you that night."

"Steve, seriously. What's going on." Bucky's voice was unsure, it wasn't like Steve to be this pushy on a subject like this.

When Steve said nothing, Bucky sighed and gave in, "She was getting ready, I got the alert about the mission, went in to talk to her. I told her I couldn't do it anymore, and she asked me to reconsider. Then I went on the mission."

"So, she didn't tell you anything that night? At all?" 

"What's going on?" Bucky was growing nervous, "Is she okay? You're worrying me."

Steve stayed quiet for a long moment before he spoke, "Bucky, I think [Y/N] was pregnant."

Bucky froze, looking at Steve guardedly, “Pregnant? What? No. She wasn’t pregnant? She'd have said something...”

Steve didn’t say anything aloud, just handed him a photo. He’d had Friday help him trim the photo so Clint and Nat were left out. It was just you, smiling with Aspen. 

“No. No, she. She wasn’t pregnant, Steve.” Bucky’s voice was beginning to break as he studied the photo, studied his daughter for the first time.

“You didn’t know” Steve sighed..

“I-I have a daughter?” Bucky’s eyes never left the photo, “Where is she, Steve? This looks like New York, wheres [Y/N]?”

“They left last night. From what I can gather, they only came in for the day” Steve refused to mention that Clint or Nat had seen you.

“Thor knew? This whole time? Thor knew and he didn’t tell anyone?” his metal hand tightened into a fist.

“She probably made him swear not to tell” Steve sighed, defeated.

“He should have done something! Said something!” Bucky growled, getting to his feet and storming out. In his hand, he gently carried the photo of you and Aspen.

“That went well” Steve muttered, heading to the lounge. It didn’t dawn on him that today was Wednesday, the day Thor always came for his visit. 

~~~~~~

Angry yelling drew Tony to the kitchen around noon. He rounded the corner, not quite prepared for what he saw. Thor was standing in the middle of the room, not saying a word as Bucky yelled at him. Bucky reared back and let a punch fly, hitting Thor direct in the shoulder. Bucky continued yelling at him, and all Tony could hear was your name. 

Steve came tearing around the corner, followed closely by Clint and Nat. Clint and Nat stood by Tony, watching silently as Steve raced forward, trying to grab Bucky’s arm to stop him.

“Where is she, Thor?!” Bucky yelled, his arm pulling back for another punch when Steve grabbed him. 

Bucky struggled to get out of Steve’s grasp, the hurt and betrayal overriding everything. Steve wouldn’t let go though and stepped in between the two of them. Thor still had yet to move, not defending himself or moving to attack. Bucky ripped his arm out of Steve’s grasp and stepped back away from Thor, his metal hand balling up into a tight fist again. For a long moment, no one moved.

“You need to take me to her.” Bucky’s voice was hard.

“I’m sorry Bucky. I won’t go against her wishes.” Thor’s voice was tired. He was tired of lying, tired of hiding, but you were his sister and you’d asked. 

“That’s my daughter, Thor. You can’t keep me from her!” 

“[Y/N] is Aspen’s mother. She gets to make the decisions, Bucky.” Thor sighed

“Aspen?” the fight seemed to drain out of Bucky as he repeated her name. The memories of that weekend slammed back to him. He could still remember the taste of your lips as he kissed you for the first time to really sell your identity, or at least that’s what he’d said when he finally kissed you.

“Please Thor… I need to fix this” Bucky’s voice was soft, a whispered plea. 

~~~~~~

You were in the indoor training arena with Lady Sif, trying to forget about yesterday. It had been great to see Clint and Nat again, but they were the past. Aspen and your life here on Asgard was the future, and you needed to remember that. 

You narrowly dodged Lady Sif’s attack. You’d been too caught up in your thoughts again, and she’d almost gotten the drop on you. You spun to face her again and stopped dead at the sight before you. Someone was standing in the entrance, and your heart began to pound as you recognized them.

“Bucky..”

Next Chapter ->

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[reyloday]

Enchanted

Pairing: Rey/Kylo Ren Rating: T Word Count: 2,012 Additional Tags: Canonverse, Episode IX, Naboo, First Kiss, “Platonic” Getaways Summary: He was here with her, had joined her on Naboo after almost a year of physical separation. Rey knew she shouldn’t want him close, crave his affection like she does, but their connection was something beyond all logic. Beyond what either of them could understand. [Or, in which Rey and Ben have some alone time on Naboo]

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Naboo was unlike other place Rey had been to her entire life, though that list was entirely too short for her liking. She didn’t know much of the place, but by looks alone she fell completely and utterly in love with it. It wasn’t even just the greenery or the flowers or the air that led her to this conclusion—it was just the general aura of the place, how it felt compared to every other planet she’d been to in the entire galaxy.

Ben tried to act like he didn’t notice, but she knew him better than anyone else, perhaps himself sometimes. His indifference didn’t work on her, even if it seemed that he couldn’t think in anything but extremes. When broached about the topic, though, he just shrugged her off and any association with the place. Rey could sense something, though, some kind of connection that Ben hadn’t willingly given up yet. She’d get it out of him eventually, even if that would take a bit of prying..

Of all the things Rey liked about Naboo’s physical beauty, the stars were most definitely near the very top of the list. They shined in the sky, a contrast like no other in the galaxy, completely incomparable. That was the reason she spent most of her time out here now, on a balcony of some sort in different positions on the estate they were staying on.

This time Rey occupied one connected to a bedroom, perfectly overlooking the gardens. She sat on the edge of the balcony several meters up from the ground and just allowed herself to embrace the faintest chill in the air. One ill-timed fall and it could be over for the last Jedi in the galaxy. Not the exciting death anyone in the galaxy would have expected.

It had been a few days since Rey had left the Resistance, feigning urgent “Jedi missions” to keep everyone from asking questions, but Leia knew. She always knew, yet she never tried to stop her, probably knowing that nothing could stop Rey from seeing her son, not even the constraints of time and space.

“Rey?”

His voice should’ve startled her, but it didn’t. She could feel it now, felt his presence and mind like it was an extension of her own. It was one of the other reasons she loved it here more than anything: him.

“I made you tea.”

He was here with her, had joined her on Naboo after almost a year of physical separation. Rey knew she shouldn’t want him close, crave his affection like she does, but their connection was something beyond all logic. Beyond what either of them could understand.

Ben sat down a respectable distance from her on the edge of the balcony and put the steaming mug between them. There was another mug in his own hand, which he sipped gingerly as they stared out into the horizon.

She took the mug and pressed her hand into the heat as she sipped it. “It’s good. What is it?”

“Chandrilan. My mother made it for me when she could. It helped me sleep. Probably the reason she made it, honestly.”

Rey took another sip before setting it back down between them. “Were you a crazy kid?”

A shrug. “Not really. I was pretty quiet, honestly, but I guess I was just hard to deal with. You know, with the Force and all that.”

“I can’t imagine having to deal with the Force as a child. It must’ve been insane.”

“It was okay. Didn’t help that my dad didn’t really understand it, but there were worse things, I’m sure.” He took another sip of his tea, more like a swig actually, and Rey had a feeling he was wishing for something stronger. “But you know, it’s not like I’m totally messed up or anything now so surely I was fine.”

The statement made Rey laugh despite how she tried to stop herself. “We’re… both messed up in our own right. Don’t be so hard on yourself, Ben.”

He nodded, ducking his head, but Rey could see the slight smile on his lips. “Right.”

She hummed and took another sip of her tea, enjoying the comfortable silence surrounding them. It had been like this for the days they’d been on Naboo. They were at ease with each other, unlike the last time they saw each other in person. Sure, their bond had given them time together, but it was different. Rey didn’t like the abrupt entrances, and, even more, she didn’t like it when he left.

Together they’d explored most the estate, from the dining room to the furthest point in the garden, but Rey found herself enjoying the lounge more than anything. That was where they ended up most nights, his head on her lap in front of the fire as they just sat and existed in the blank canvas of the world. There they weren’t the last Jedi and the Supreme Leader. There they were just two people who realized that they never wanted to be apart again.

“The stars sure are beautiful tonight,” Ben said next to her, eyes on the sky and the expansive terrain of the galaxy just in front of them. It was there they both had to be somebody, thrust into duties of conflicting interests. “I can imagine that’s why my grandmother loved it here so much.”

Rey glanced over at him. “Grandmother?”

“She owned this estate many years ago, practically considered a deity on this planet, actually.”

“Padmé Amidala.” She’d seen the portraits of the woman in the hall but hadn’t made the connection to Ben at all. Of course…

He nodded. “My grandparents fell in love here. Nobody really knows that except for me and some of the older staff here. Her association with Anakin Skywalker was a fairly well-kept secret, and after a while it didn’t even matter.”

“How did she die?”

“My grandfather killed her.” It sounded almost nonchalant, but not quite. Rey fell completely silent at the words, not daring to look over at him. “It was after… he turned. It’s not a fun story, so I’ll spare you the details.”

So that was the story behind it all. That was why Ben walked around here like he was in a daze, why his eyes lingered on the simplest of things, why he seemed at peace even in the turmoil going on around them.

In an effort to break the silence stretching on, Rey spoke. “Sometimes on Jakku I’d sit out a night and stare at the sky and just wonder if there was any point in me existing if there was so many other people, so many other places. I didn’t understand then.”

He looked over at her, hand pressed into the stone of the balcony. It was during times like these that she noticed just how young he looked but how tired as well. The man had seen things no one his age should have, no one any age should have, but yet he was here, and he was beautiful and strong, and he was going to show anyone who ever doubted him.

“Do you now?”

She nodded once. “I think I do, better at least. I’ve never really had a purpose outside of scavenging. I’m not some Jedi hero or some Resistance princess. I’m not this ethereal being that everyone seems to have an image of, but at least I do have an image now. I have a purpose now.”

“You do. We all have purposes. It just takes some people longer to find theirs. Life isn’t clear cut and simple. It sometimes take some messing with to get right.”

Rey took her mug into her hand and lifted it to her lips to take a sip before setting it down. “Indeed, Ben, I think you’re right.”

“When am I not?”

She reached across and shoved him lightly, something he could’ve easily stopped if he wanted to. “Shut your damn mouth.”

Eyes narrowed, Ben leaned toward her, a smirk playing on his lips. Rey loved when he got like this, when he dropped his serious persona and just let  himself fall victim to childish games. It was a refreshing glimpse of who he was before maybe after this war hardened him, after Snoke got to him. “Make me.”

“I would, but we both know that would never work, so I don’t see the point in trying. Do you?”

“You might want to rethink your technique.”

Gods, he was so close now. Rey couldn’t hide the heat rising to her cheeks at his face mere inches from hers. She couldn’t stop herself from looking him up and down and letting her eyes settle on his lips. Those lips. There weren’t many nights she didn’t think of them now, doing things that she could never voice aloud.

Rey opened her mouth to try and speak, but her voice caught in her throat. Ben fell silent as well, breathing even halting as his eyes bore into hers. Usually she was able to read them, tell what he was thinking and feeling immediately, but there was nothing but one strange look.

It was like they were stuck in time and space, the universe gluing them to their place. Rey couldn’t find it in herself to move away, naturally gravitating forward. Her lip quivered as fear pierced her heart, the thought of rejection once more as she finally allowed herself to grow close again.

Except that feeling never came, not even as their lips met for the very first time.

Rey couldn’t recall who initiated it, but in hindsight it didn’t really matter. The only thing that was important now was the way his lips felt against her, how soft and pliant they were. It was painstakingly slow but time seemed to speed up all the same. Somehow, somewhere, this would’ve been more simple, wouldn’t have had to have an entire galaxy tearing them apart.

“Ben,” she whispered after a moment, pulling away just barely to the point their noses brushed.

Even if Rey had just barely pulled away, Ben completely straightened up. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Ben—”

“No, don’t say anything. I know you don’t feel for me in that way. You don’t have to confirm what I already know to be true.”

This man. Without giving him a chance to say another word, Rey grabbed him by the jaw and pulled him down to kiss her this time. It was sloppy, rough, unpracticed, but it was worth it to feel him again, feel the perfection of his lips on hers.

It wasn’t long before he pulled away again, breathing heavily as he stared at her. Rey could feel the blush crawling to her cheeks, but the lighting was dim enough that she doubted he could see even if he tried. “Are you okay?”

“Honestly? No.” Ben let out a loose breath before turning to her. “Will you do that again?”

“So romantic,” she muttered under her breath right before their lips met again.

This time he didn’t pull away. It was an unfamiliar sensation, but his lips slotted so perfectly with hers somehow, and Rey found herself never ever wanting to let go of him again. “Gods help me,” she mumbled against him.

Ben choked sat his hand down to keep himself from falling—right on Rey’s tea. Even as the mug fell to the ground and shattered, Ben’s swearing breaking the silence between them, Rey could feel it:

Peace.

The feeling didn’t escape her as Ben wiped the hot tea off his hand or they found their way into the lounge they’d taken a particular liking to. It didn’t escape her as he pressed her into the chaise and felt the warmth of his body against hers. It didn’t escape her as Ben found his way into her side, allowing Rey to hold him until the sun rose again.

For now, it was just them and Naboo, the stars and the galaxy. A war—physical and mental—temporarily forgotten for the utter transcendence of peace.

[pinkletterday]

Prelude: Bibbidi Bobbidi Boo

Pairing: Barry Allen/ Iris West

Rating: All Audiences

Summary: “Aw hell, no!” says Linda. “Iris, you’ve been planning yourself this big white wedding for weeks. This is your dream, you guys. If you give up now, the Nazis win. We can’t let them win, yo. You gotta have your wedding. For truth, justice and the American way!” 

Tags: Iris West goes wedding dress shopping with her girls, Sara Lance is the Westallen fairygodmother, the wedding my babies deserved, apologies for the lack of Felicity, author was really mad at the time

Notes: Am I procrastinating life by posting old fics on tumblr? Why yes I am. 

This was my oldest fic for this fandom and my first in ten years. 

Part 1 of the Westallen Wedding Album

It is seven in the morning and someone is ringing the doorbell. The universe really does hate them. Iris is too demoralized to care at this point.

“Go away,” calls Barry from under the covers, clutching Iris like a security blanket.

“It’s me, Caitlin. It’s urgent, open up!”

This is why they can’t ever turn their phones off. Et tu, Cait?

They shuffle fatalistically to the door in their pyjamas to let her in and Caitlin looks apologetically at the sleep-rumpled duo. “I’m sorry, guys, but they insisted.”

“Who -”

Sara bursts into the loft. “All right, everyone get dressed. Wedding’s back on, bitches!” she hollers, in full captain mode, as Catilin grimaces away. “The time is oh seven hundred hours and we have fuckton of work to do so. Ass in gear, folks!”

Barry and Iris blink at her like injured meerkats. “...What?” They notice a flustered Cecile trailing in after Sara, followed by an offensively bright-eyed and bushy tailed Kara, and… “Linda?”

“What up, girl,” greets Linda Park, hugging a stunned Iris. She appears to have a distinctly fresh-from-airport-hell brand of dishevelment and the vibrating energy of a sports writer on Redbull.

“How are you here?" asks Barry in confusion. "You said in your RSVP that you’d be at your family thing in Oklahoma-,”

“Yeah so I did and I was and then I got a hysterical call from the kidterns at CCPN that your wedding had been bombed by Nazis. Followed by news footage of Central City being attacked by actual, honest-to-God Nazis and then beaten back by a mess of leather fetish-types...you get the idea. In conclusion: Nazis. Seriously, guys, what the hell!” Linda throws her hands up at them with a bewildered expression.

Barry slumps onto the couch with a groan and Iris drops wearily beside him, making a helpless gesture that is somehow supposed to convey “we couldn’t tell you if we knew/ the universe hates us/ it is written/ this is our life now". They lean against each other like sad puppies.

“Anyway, the point is, you guys are getting married today. Properly.” presses Sara.

“Can’t,” grunts Barry.

“What d’you mean, can’t?”

“Lost all our deposits. Tux ruined. Guests flew home after martial law was declared. Fire. Murder. Plague.”

“My dress survived but I frankly don’t even want to see it again,” says Iris sadly. “That thing cost five thousand dollars and now all I remember when I see it is our minister getting vaporized. Oh God.” She hides her face in Barry’s shoulder, stifling a sob, as he puts a comforting arm around her.

“Ok, yes, we figured,” interjects Kara, advancing with a "hear-me-out" demeanor. “But guys. This is all fixable! And we’re gonna fix it! You still want to get married, right?” She looked expectantly at them, a golden retreiver puppy convinced of the world's innate goodness.

“Well yeah,” says Barry, scratching his head. “But Iris and I are just thinking to going to a Justice of Peace-”

“Aw hell, no!” cries Linda, making Barry jump. Redbull and sports are just not a good combination for this early in the morning. “Iris, you’ve been planning yourself this big white wedding for weeks. This is your dream, you guys. If you give up now, the Nazis win. We can’t let them win, yo. You gotta have your wedding. For truth, justice and the American way!”

The other women all nod, appearing to agree on the connection between propping up the wedding industry and patriotism. “She’s right,” says Caitlin the Betrayer, staunchly.

“And exactly how are we supposed to do that?” asks Iris with some asperity. She doesn’t particularly care about truth or justice or whatever the American way is supposed to be right now, unless the American way involves a bubble bath with Barry, sex and some post-coital Netflix.

“You leave that to us,” says Cecile firmly, sitting herself next to Iris. She takes her hand with a maternal air. “Iris, you and Barry aren’t alone in any of this. You have your family. Your friends. We have resources. Let us do this for you.”

“Cecile, that’s really sweet, believe me, but we’re just too tired-”

“That’s why you don’t have to lift a finger,” says Linda determinedly. “Except to put a ring on it. Look, I used to work part time as a wedding co-ordinator in college. I still have contacts. Just give me and Cecile your wedding binder and go find a dress. We can throw you the shindig of your dreams and get you married off before tomorrow morning.”

There is a chorus of "yeahs!" and "all rights!" and even a "whoo!" from Caitlin, who immediately looks embarrassed and subsides mid hand-pump.

“Where do I find a dress to get married in this evening?” says Iris hopelessly.

Sara smirks. “Did you know the Waverider has a fabrication room?”

“What’s a fabrication room?” asks Barry, Iris and Caitlin

“What’s a Waverider?” asks Linda and Cecile.

Sara grins smugly at Iris. “Just call me your fairy godmother, Cinderella.”

___

“I’m in a timeship,” Iris hears Linda say aloud to herself for the umpteenth time. “A timeship with a giant dress up room. With superheroes. Shopping for bridal gowns. For the Flash’s fiancee.”

Iris is the dressing cubicle and can't see anyone, but can picture Linda swigging her third glass of champagne, fluffing the white feather boa she had wound around her shoulders. She had decided that she didn't feel right drinking champagne in a fancy dressing room without a wearing one.

“Linda, honey, you’ve been saying that since we got here,” sighs Cecile, relegated to sparkling grape juice, but seated comfortably on the Persian rug. “It’s not really helping.”

They are in the Waverider's fabrication room, which Gideon had science babbled at them about reconstructing garments and accessories via subatomic teleportation and reassembly, and what Sara had simply described as "the Waverider communal closet". Except the "communal" part being all of time and history, apparently. It honestly just looks like a hi-tech walk-in closet from Dr. Who, only with outfits atomizing into being inside a cubicle once its design is selected from a 3D holographic projection.

"Anyone want more cake?” Ray Palmer, ex-billionaire and apparently current time traveller, calls out sunnily.

“Ooh, me me me!” says Kara enthusiastically from where she has been vamping in a crinoline in front of the mirror. “Oh my God, Ray, is that whipped cream frosting? And these strawberries taste so real!"

"The Waverider molecularly restructures any food stuffs we want," Ray says in proud tones. "Although, I usually prefer to get the raw ingredients and make recipes by hand. The champagne is all Gideon's work, though."

"That’s so cool, Gideon!" enthuses Kara.

“Thank you Miss Zor-El,” Gideon's disembodied voice resounds around the room. “This is high praise coming from a race as advanced as the Kryptonians.”

“You’re welcome and thank you!” Kara says happily. “My ship has an A.I but it has my mother’s personality imprint, so it can be kind of a bummer sometimes. Allura definitely hasn’t made me alcohol,” then mutters more quietly, “despite trying to drive me to it.”

“Wait, you have a ship too?” Cecile and Caitlin chorus in surprise.

“What’s a Kryptonian?” wonders Linda.

“Yeah, I have a ship. It’s how I got to earth. Krypton is my home planet,” Kara explains casually. Cecile and Linda are obviously still bemused. “I’m an alien,” Kara clarifies.

There is a stunned silence.

“I’m in a talking timeship,” intones Linda, swigging her drink, “with an alien. Eating cake. Shopping for dresses for-” she’s cut off when Iris throws a cloud of tulle on her head.

“Knock it off, Park,” Iris says, stepping out of the dressing room. “How do I look?” she smoothes down the sugar white confection expectantly, which somehow manages to be both creamy and frothy.

There is some diplomatic hemming and hawwing from the crowd. “Well, it’s a bit…,” Caitlin hesitates and pulls at the back of the synthetic white sheathe.

“Like someone dipped you in a vat of Ray’s frosting,” says Sara bluntly, looking up at her upside down from where she's sprawled on the floor. “And before that you looked like something from a Lady Gaga music video. Really, Iris, are you even taking this seriously?”

“I thought it was funny!” protests Iris, returning to searching through the ship’s dress archive on the holographic display. “What about the one before that?”

“You looked like Queen Elizabeth,” says Linda, flatly. “Present day Queen Elizabeth. What was with the hat?”

“Wow, tough crowd," Iris tries to laugh it off only to be met with skeptical stares. She sags.

“I just. It feels like tempting fate again, you know?” she says quietly. “Ever since I was a kid, I really wanted to dress like a princess at my wedding and it almost came true...three times. I just feel like the minute I put on a wedding dress again, I’m going to bring giant killer robots down on us, or one of us is going to get kidnapped by an evil megalomaniac and replaced by a frog-eating clone-”

“What’d you mean frog-eating clones?” interjects Linda in panic, clutching her boa. “Oh my God, is that an actual thing too?”

“Probably,” says Sara with supreme unconcern from the floor. She pulls herself upright and looks at Iris seriously in the eyes. “Look, I understand what you’re saying. You don’t have to wear a wedding dress if you don’t want to. You can wear a pantsuit or a gunny sack and none of us will care.

But I think you really do want that princess dress. This is all about saving your dream. You can’t let fear make you make decisions that you’ll regret down the line.” There is a murmur of sympathy and assent from the others.

“You only get married once,” says Caitlin, looking at Iris with a deep understanding.

“Well, I mean, actually-,” Linda starts, but is cut off by Cecile who sternly takes her champagne glass away.

"I mean you will only marry your soulmate once,” says Caitlin, looking at Iris steadily. “He’s the love of your life, Iris. You’re not going to lose him. We won’t let you. I promise.” Iris thinks she sees Caitlin’s eyes flash silver.

A solemnity descends on the group. Iris pulls Caitlin into a hug, feeling touched and grateful.

“You know, you could settle for a middle ground,” pipes up the ubiquitous Ray, making everyone start because they had forgotten he was there. “Personally, I think you’d be able to carry off a Galia Lahav like nobody’s business, but if you wanted something a little more classic, a little less elaborate, you could look to something boho like Ru De Seine or vintage feel like Amanda Garrett. Her beading is amazing. I’ve always thought ivory lace is really the thing for a fall wedding myself. Oh! And A-lines are so under-appreciated. You can always get them to flare out almost as well as a ballgown.”

There is a silence as everyone stares at Ray.

“What?” he says uncertainly. “Mick and I watch Say Yes To The Dress.”

A collective “ooh” of understanding ripples through the ladies and they turn back to Iris. “I hate that you all just came to the most obvious conclusion right now,” mutters Sara, chewing bitterly on a strawberry.

“Ray’s right,” says Kara, elbowing in front of the display screen and rifling through the database. “There’s more than one way to look like a princess. You might not be comfortable going for the full Cinderella anymore, but there’s Rapunzel and Snow White or even Greek-style like Megara-”

“Who?”

“Hercules’ girlfriend. I never understood why that movie flopped, my cousin loves it.”

"Oh, hey, me too!" exclaims Ray.

In the end, after a heated debate about Disney between Kara and Ray, a decimated whipped cream cake and a large pile of discarded lace, tulle and chiffon, Iris finds the perfect fit. It's an ivory A-line overlaid in lace. The assymetrical drop waist flares to the ground in a fall of tulle, the deep sweetheart neckline, ruched bodice and delicate cap sleeves covered in exquisite crystal beading. It's sweet and summery and simple. Safe. It makes her feel right.

There is a hush of approval, broken by Sara’s irreverent wolf-whistle.

"I would call that a Snow White look," pronounced Kara.

“Nice one, West,” Linda concurs as Cecile coos over it and Caitlin inspects the beading.

“By the way, Iris, Barry called,” informs Caitlin, as she pulls on Iris' skirts. “He said to tell you he’s decided to include Harry and Wally in the bridal party this time around, and I quote, “Tag, you’re it!”

“It? What are you?” asks Linda in confusion.

“Down three bridesmaids, that’s what I am!" huffs Iris, hands on her hips. She surveys her current retinue. “Okay, then. Sara, Kara, Linda, you’re up!”

The three women’s heads jerk up at Iris’ authoritative tone. “Up for what?”

“You’re in my bridal party now. Best find dresses!” grins Iris, “That’s what happens when you save a girl’s planet and her wedding. I mean,”  she suddenly feels a little uncertain, “if you are up for it?”

In answer, Kara, Linda and Sara cheer and surround Iris, pulling her into a group hug, while Caitlin and Cecile raise their glasses at her proudly.

____

Iris doesn’t see them again for hours after sorting out the bridal wear, being summarily banished to her father’s house. She would have preferred to go home but found that her fiancé had banned her from the premises. Iris objects.

“Are we doing the groom not seeing the bride before the ceremony thing again? Because a lot of good that did us last time,” Iris huffs into the phone, going downstairs to intrepidly investigate the delicious smells wafting from the kitchen.

“No, I just don’t want you here cause I’m working on a wedding gift for you,” says Barry, over a mysterious banging of pots and pans. “And you may not crack a joke about my family jewels.”

“I would never joke about those, Barry,” says Iris seriously. "Your family jewels are very important to me." She hears the distinctive ding of- “wait, are you baking?”

“...damn it.”

“Bartholomew! Are you baking brownies in our apartment on our wedding day without me?” exclaims Iris in indignation.

“How do you know they’re brownies?” Barry hedges in his damage control voice.

“'Cause you banned me from the loft! I know you, you duplicitous, conniving-,”

“Look, we both know you are fundamentally untrustworthy around things with chocolate in them,” says Barry firmly. “You’re like the Leonard Snart of baked goods.”

“But why can’t I have brownies on my wedding day?” Iris whines. She nearly collides with her father, who is bustling about the kitchen in an apron.

“You can,” says Barry patiently. “It’s for the wedding.”

“I thought Oliver was taking care of the catering?” says Iris, confused.

“Yes, he’s footing the bill for the entire thing, so I told him to keep it simple and homely. He feels really bad about what happened to us.”

“Why?” Iris shrugs, “He didn’t crash our wedding.”

“He’s a rich kid, they throw money at people’s problems until they feel better,” snarks Barry and Iris giggles. “So I heard your Dad and Clarissa and some others are making it a kind of potluck, as much to reign Oliver in as anything, and...I wanted you to have your mother’s brownies on your special day.”

Iris melts. “Awww, babe. That is so sweet. And frustrating. Now I don’t know who I want to eat more," she purrs seductively, "you or the brownies.”

“You do know I can hear you, right?” Joe pops up from behind the kitchen counter with an unimpressed expression, making Iris jump.

“Er, yeah okay. So," Iris awkwardly skitters around, to notice - "Hey, is that why Dad’s making Grandma Esther’s sweet potato pie?” She starts to break off a bit of crust, only to be whacked decisively on the knuckles with a spoon. “OW!”

“Those are for the guests this evening, missy!” reprimands Joe, “Out of my kitchen! Git!”

“But it’s my wedding!” Iris wails fruitlessly into the phone as her father chases her out of the room with a spatula.

____

In the afternoon, Iris gets dressed in her new wedding gown, ignoring the flutter of trepidation she feels as Caitlin buttons her up. Cecile and Linda sweep her hair into a high messy bun that lets soft curls spill around her face and neck, pinning a single full-blown crimson rose on the side of her head right above the cascade of her grandmother’s veil.

She wears her great-grandma Esther’s pearl earrings and her mother’s replica wedding bands on a gold chain that Barry had given her (so very long ago now and not long ago at all) around her neck. Cecile kisses her cheek and fastens her little turquoise bracelet around Iris’ wrist “for something both borrowed and blue”. She laughs as she slips her feet into the pair of transparent “glass” heels that Kara had found for her.

Her bridesmaids are in dusty rose gowns gathered at the waist, with skirts that swish playfully around their calves. Delicate aster and camellia flower crowns nestle on their loose waves of hair and they all carry small posies of riotously colourful wildflowers that speak of the fall.

Barry is waiting with his groomsmen downstairs as they descend. Wally, Cisco, Harry and Oliver are in sport coats with matching autumn boutonnieres. Barry has also ditched the tux in favour of a grey suit with a crisp white shirt unbuttoned at the collar and is holding her bouquet of crimson and spray roses. He looked so very dashing in his tux, but Iris is glad that he looks more casual today, slightly mussed, more her geeky, pretty, boyish Barry.

He does not look at her as though he would cry, as he had the first time she had walked down the aisle to him. Instead his expression is open and soft, steady, like he knows how afraid she is and he is right there with her, waiting to catch her and keep her safe. It’s a look that makes her feel like he’s holding her in his arms from across a room.

Iris’ father carefully pulls her into a hug, engulfing her one last time in his solid, reassuring warmth and Dad-scent before he takes her hand and puts it in Barry’s. It’s an acknowledgement of putting something where it has always belonged, rather than entrusting it all over again to another. Iris is fleetingly amused by the thought that Joe may have accepted Barry as her son-in-law when they were first married by a giant dinosaur at the age of ten.

Barry gives her her bouquet and pulls her to him, “Hey.”

“Hi,” she smiles. "I see you got my present." She fingers the small gold bolts of lightning on his shirt cuffs.  

"I did," Barry says with a pleased grin. "They're awesome. Thanks, honey. But I think I still win with the brownies."

"Damn it, you're right," grumbles Iris. "Why are you so competitive all the time?"

Barry gives her a sardonic look and draws her into his arms as she giggles. His expression turns reverent as he gazes down at her.

“God, you're beautiful,” he breathes, looking at her like he can't believe she's real. Iris feels cocooned in happiness. “How do you make me want you more every day?”

She focuses on pinning a crimson rose next to his lapel and blinks back tears. “I bet you say that to all the girls you marry,” Iris quips.

“Yes,” he teases back, “since you are all the girls I’m ever going to marry.”

Iris laughs, and smooths his coat. ���So, want to give this thing one last try, Mr. Allen?”

Barry's eyes are resolute and tender. “I’ll never stop trying until you’re mine, Miss West.”

She presses the rose stem against his heart, and his hand covers hers over it. They follow their wedding party and walk out of their childhood home, hand in hand.

~~~~

[fireflyfish]

Tano and Kenobi: Curiosity

Previously on Tano and Kenobi…

Two years into a successful apprenticeship with Jedi Knight Ahsoka Tano, Padawan Learner Obi-Wan Kenobi is filled with both excitement and anxiety at promise of his very first mission with his master. But before they jet off to Raxus on the Outer Rim, Obi-Wan needs to do some researching in the Jedi Archives.

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The sun had set by the time Ahsoka and Obi-Wan arrived back at the Jedi Temple, the five spires lit up as a beacon to one and all, the great seat of light and hope in the galaxy.

This was the home of the Jedi.

This was the heart of the Order.

Obi-Wan had exhausted his questions about their upcoming assignment and was trailing after Ahsoka, observing the people on the streets as they passed them. The Temple District was quieter than the Senate District but there was always something to see. Sentients from every corner of the galaxy could be found in the district, from academics and scholars who wanted to do research on the Jedi and their history to those who came seeking a chance to work within the Temple grounds to those who simply saw the Temple as a tourist spot, a place one simply had to see when they got a chance to visit Coruscant.

Security at the Temple during Ahsoka’s childhood had been far more rigorous than it was now. She was still surprised to see the occasional tour group put together by a senatorial friend of the High Council or a wide-eyed clutch of invited sentients following after whatever Jedi Master had been roped into giving the tour this time. Ahsoka had once tagged along with one of these groups during her first year back in the past, following Master Diaz and a crop of new senators from the Mid Rim through the halls as she tried to re-learn where everything was supposed to be.

“Master?” Obi-Wan’s voice broke into Ahsoka’s thoughts as they entered the Temple. “Master? I… may I confess something?”

They had just passed through the massive main entrance of the Temple, moving past the towering bronzium statues that represented great masters from the ancient days of the Order. Ahsoka glanced at Obi-Wan and nodded, gesturing for him to follow her over to a private corner.

Safely tucked away where no one could hear them, Ahsoka turned to her padawan. “What is it, Obi-Wan? Is something wrong?”

“No, well, I don’t think so,” Obi-Wan frowned at the floor as he scratched at the back of his neck, his expression one of deep thought. “It’s… well, you see, Master. I… I am very excited about this new assignment we’ve been given. It’s only… I…”

Ahsoka canted her head to the side, brows raised as she waited for Obi-Wan to work through how he was feeling. She had an inkling of what the boy might confess to but she wanted to give him as much time as he needed to voice his concerns and worries.

Taking a deep breath and nodding, Obi-Wan plunged ahead. “You told me to be honest about my feelings, Master, and… and… I am very nervous, Master. This is our first mission and… and I think I have changed my mind. I don’t want it to be pirates.”

Nodding, her face relaxing into a warm, comforting smile. “You’re a little scared, aren’t you?”

Obi-Wan flushed crimson all the way up to his ears but he agreed. “Yes, Master. A little. Is that bad? We don’t even know what it is yet.”

“No, it’s not bad and you’re right,” Ahsoka said, leaning down to place both hands on his shoulders. “We don’t know what our assignment is. For all we know, it’s some boring bodyguard job for a diplomat. It could be a three-day assignment like that and then we’re back at the Temple.”

Obi-Wan nodded, his gaze still focused on his boots. “I’m sorry, Master. I should trust the Force to guide us.”

Ahsoka sighed and gently pulled Obi-Wan into her arms for a hug. “Don’t apologize for being honest about how you feel. If I don’t know you’re upset, how can I help make it better?”

Obi-Wan leaned into her shoulder, mumbling. “I just… all these thoughts came tumbling into my head of what could go wrong, or all the things I don’t know yet and haven’t studied. I still can’t fully repair a hyperdrive and my Bacchi is terrible and I don’t want to let you down! And what if I do? What if I fail somehow and you get hurt or you die?! Would they send me to the Corps? What if Master Jinn tried to claim me as his padawan learner?”

“Woah! Woah!” Ahsoka interrupted Obi-Wan’s litany of worries and fears, leaning back out of their hug to examine the young boy’s face. “No one is sending you anywhere, Obi-Wan. No one. Okay? You are my padawan and no one is going to separate us.”

Obi-Wan’s blue eyes were round with worry. “Truly, Master?”

“Truly,” Ahsoka reached out to ruffle her padawan’s short, soft fringe of hair. “C’mon. We’re going to be late and we wouldn’t want to be late for our first mission briefing, do we?”

Shaking his head “no”, Obi-Wan stepped back and collected himself, straightening his robes and taking a breath before looking up at Ahsoka. “I think I’m ready now, Master.”

“That’s my padawan,” Ahsoka chuckled and wrapped an arm around him for a quick hug. “Let’s go. We can’t keep Master Windu waiting.”

As it turned out, they were not being sent to investigate pirates, which left Obi-Wan both relieved and disappointed as they stood together in the Council room. Relieved that they weren’t going to be in any real danger, but disappointed that he wouldn’t be the first padawan in his age group to face down a brigand.

And their “mission” wasn’t really a “mission”, if one were technical about it. Knight Tano and Padawan Kenobi had been assigned to accompany Master Plo Koon to facilitate a peaceful resolution between a Core World and one of its colonies that was in rebellion. The negotiations and peace treaty were going to be held on Raxus and Obi-Wan couldn’t help but notice his master flinch at the mention of the planet. He wondered if that meant Ahsoka and Master Skywalker had traveled to the planet when she was a padawan, and hoped if that were the case this new assignment wouldn’t bring back painful memories for her.

There were times, when his master thought he wasn’t paying attention, that Ahsoka would go silent and somber, her eyes lost out a window as she wrapped her arms around herself. When those moods would strike her, Obi-Wan would wait patiently, too shy and respectful of his master’s history to directly intervene until they passed.

Even so, he would make sure to move around their shared living space louder to make sure he wouldn’t startle her, and often prepared Ahsoka’s favorite tea while he waited for her to come back.

His master’s dark moods never lasted for very long but they were always mournful. There was something about whatever those memories contained that tore at his master and Obi-Wan wanted nothing more than to prevent another episode from ever happening again if he could.

He knew he couldn’t but that didn’t stop him from trying, from working harder and trying to live up to his mental image of Master Skywalker, his eternally bright, strong and charismatic grandmaster who had been taken from Ahsoka far too soon.

“So our mandate is to learn and observe?” Ahsoka asked the Council for clarification, glancing at Obi-Wan, who nodded in agreement.

“Yes,” Master Windu answered, gesturing to Obi-Wan. “Padawan Kenobi is still a bit young to be involved in more... aggressive missions and, as we have discussed in the past, there are still some on the Council who have concerns about your skills as peacemaker, Knight Tano.”

Obi-Wan wanted to bristle at the perceived insult to his master, but Ahsoka sent a soothing wave through the Force that told him he shouldn’t be angry and Obi-Wan bowed his head. How the Council could not see how amazing Master Ahsoka was continued to baffle him but if she was not angry then it would be wrong for him to be angry as well and he focused on acknowledging his anger and letting it float away like smoke caught in a breeze. He found the visualization helpful when dealing with his stronger emotions.

“I understand,” Ahsoka told the assembled masters, her voice clear and professional. “Padawan Kenobi and I look forward to working with Master Plo Koon and I’m sure we will learn a great deal on our assignment.”

“Our ship will not leave for Raxus until tomorrow afternoon,” Plo Koon rumbled as he rose from his seat in the circle of the Council members. “That should give us plenty of time to prepare for our trip.”

“Is there anything in particular you would like us to do before hand?” Ahsoka asked as she accepted a datapad with the mission briefing and dossier. She briefly scanned it before handing it to Obi-Wan, who accepted it as if being handed a priceless holocron. He held it tight to his chest and straightened up, pulling his shoulders back and trying to be every inch the part of a mature and capable padawan learner.

“If Padawan Kenobi could do some research on history of Acronae and her colony of Acromino before we leave, I would appreciate the extra information,” Master Plo requested, gazing down at the padawan who had stayed silent through the entire meeting, watching everything with round eyes. “Master Nu speaks highly of his abilities as a researcher.”

Obi-Wan felt proud to have received a compliment in front of the Council but he kept the rest of his happiness behind his shields, laminating another layer of protection between his mind and the overwhelming light of the Council.

“I’m sure Obi-Wan would be happy to take on that task,” Ahsoka said, reaching out to pat her padawan on the back. “You think you can manage that, Padawan Kenobi?”

Grinning up at his master, Obi-Wan decided he was never going to tire of hearing Padawan Kenobi said aloud. “Yes, Masters. I am looking forward to it.”

“If there’s nothing else?” Master Windu stood up. “You are dismissed. Good luck and may the Force be with you.”

“And with you, as well,” Ahsoka and Obi-Wan replied in unison, bowing at the same time. Master Plo Koon bowed to the assembled Council members and left with the pair.

Once they were outside of the Council room and walking to the lift, Ahsoka let out a breath, shaking her head ruefully. “One day I’ll get used to being in the Council Room without my master.”

Obi-Wan frowned and moved a little closer to his master, hoping to comfort her with his nearness. Ahsoka noticed this and reached down to squeeze his shoulder in silent thanks.

“It is not something that happens overnight,” Master Plo replied with affection in his modulated voice. “I must confess, there are days when I long to be a Padawan again, to have someone else take on the responsibilities of my day.”

“Glad to hear I’m in good company then,” Ahsoka laughed. “How are the peace proceedings going on Raxus?”

“As well as can be expected,” Master Plo sighed. “Acromino has a wealth of natural resources that her parent system is loathe to lose free access to but public opinion has turned against the ruling majority and with the Senate threatening action against them, Acronae has been forced to acquiesce to peace talks.”

“You don’t sound very hopeful,” Ahsoka observed, meeting Obi-Wan’s eye and arching her brows in surprise. “Does the Senate suspect peace talks will break down and that’s why they’re sending us?”

“I would not be surprised if that was the case,” Plo Koon replied as the lift chimed open and he stepped out, Ahsoka and Obi-Wan following him. “Our ship will leave at 1500 hours but I would like to meet beforehand to make sure you are adequately prepared for our mission. Padawan Kenobi?”

Obi-Wan nodded. “Yes, Master?”

“I have notified Master Nu to give you access to the full Archive should you discover something of worth during your researching,” Plo Koon explained. “I look forward to your analysis of the situation, Padawan.”

“Thank you, Master!” Obi-Wan answered, positively glowing with pride. “I shall do my best.”

“We won’t let you down,” Ahsoka promised, bowing to the Kel Dor master as he bid them good night.

Once they were alone, Ahsoka turned to her padawan. “So… still nervous?”

Chewing on his thumb nail, Obi-Wan glanced up at his master. “Not as much but I’m still glad it’s not pirates.”

Ahsoka laughed. “You know what? I am too.”

Sleep was elusive that night and Ahsoka found herself sitting on the meditation cushions that faced their window overlooking the jeweled nightscape of Coruscant. She had tried meditating but found mental stillness elusive so she took out her datapad and began to write as she always did when the ghosts in her heart were too loud to ignore.

About six months after her arrival, and three datapads full of notes, Ahsoka realized she was going to need a central database to keep track of everything and quietly requisitioned one from the central archives. Master Jocasta Nu had eventually agreed to the request and once the space within the Archive system was created for her, Ahsoka set about tagging and cross referencing her notes.

She opened the entry for her first mission with her master, during the early part of the Clone Wars, when she had flown across the galaxy to take her place at Anakin Skywalker’s side. Like Obi-Wan, she had been both scared and excited, unsure of what to expect from the Chosen One. There had been rumors about him flying around the Temple since Ahsoka was a youngling but she never paid much attention to them. Anakin had been little more than a myth to her younger mind, the former slave who became a padawan learner to the Sith Slayer.

Ahsoka wondered what her padawan would think of that.

He would probably die of embarrassment and those cute ears of his would turn so red!

A soft chuckle escaped her and Ahsoka scrolled down to the passage where she had written out her thoughts.

I remember being so nervous, afraid of making a mistake and getting someone killed. Not myself, because I still didn’t believe I could die, but someone else. Like one of the clones or maybe the enlisted pilots who were flying me down to the surface. Christophis was so pretty from orbit and as we flew in closer, it wasn’t until I could make out the tanks that I noticed the destruction everywhere.

Anakin was so confused. I still don’t know if Master Obi-Wan requested me for Anakin or if it was an honest mix-up on the Temple’s part. Knowing what I know now, I would lay odds on it being Master Yoda’s doing, attempting to help Anakin learn how to let go of his attachments.

I don’t think I helped much in that regard.

Ahsoka’s fingers trailed over the text there, noting Asajj Ventress’s unexpected arrival and the betrayal of a trooper named Slick. By going through her memories she was able to get a general idea of the movements of Ventress and Count Dooku through the war. In hindsight, laid out like a historical tome, it was clear that the Separatists were getting some kind of inside information on the Republic’s movements. There were simply too many engagements that should have gone the their way if not for the chance intervention of Dooku or Grievous or someone else who was supposed to be on the other side of the galaxy.

Shaking her head, Ahsoka wondered how they didn’t catch it beforehand.

We were just run so ragged. There were never enough Jedi, never enough time to stop and think about what we were doing. I still remember when Master overdosed on stims and me, Rex and Jesse had to pin him to the ground so that Kix could sedate him.

And this was what she was training Obi-Wan for? Taking an innocent child and teaching him the arts of war and combat so that another innocent child wouldn’t suffer? Who was she to decide who had to carry the heavier burden in the future?

How could the Temple have asked that of her?

How could she ask that of Obi-Wan?

“Master?”

Startled, Ahsoka looked up from her dark thoughts, not at all surprised to see Obi-Wan holding a cup of tea out to her. She tried to smile and took it from him, setting her datapad aside. “Was I thinking too loud again?”

Obi-Wan shrugged, sitting down on the cushion next to her, his hands wrapped around his own mug of tea. “What happened on Christophis?”

Ahsoka grimaced, chastising herself for not keeping her thoughts behind a better shield. “That was where I had my first mission with my master. It’s where we met actually.”

Brows furrowed, Obi-Wan nodded as he took a sip of tea. “Not here at the Temple?”

“No, I… I was assigned to Master Skywalker,” Ahsoka said, watching the steam drift up from her mug. “There was a situation on Christophis and I was sent out afterwards. We thought everything was taken care of but it turned out it wasn’t. But I saved Master Skywalker’s life and he seemed to like me.”

“You’re reckless, little one,” Anakin sighed, gazing at the ground in front of him. “You never would have made it as Obi-Wan’s padawan. But you might make it as mine.”

Tears stung at her eyes and Ahsoka took a long drink of tea to hide them from her padawan.

I miss you so much, Master.

Obi-Wan was quiet while his master grieved, her pain and anguish clear to him in the Force. This dark mood seemed to be particularly bad and he weighed his options before setting his mug down on the ground. He shuffled over to Ahsoka’s cushion and carefully perched himself on the edge, reaching out with his wiry arms to pull his master in for a hug, hoping he wasn’t overstepping his bounds as a padawan learner.

Ahsoka let out a watery sigh and let her padawan comfort her, let the young boy she had chosen to shepherd to manhood support her in this moment of memory and loss. She wrapped her arms around Obi-Wan and murmured softly, “Thank you, Obi-Wan.”

Obi-Wan turned his head so that his cheek rested on Ahsoka’s shoulder. He wanted to tell her that he was strong and he could help her through anything, that it was his job to take care of his master as she took care of him. He wanted to tell her that he missed Master Skywalker too, even though he had never met him. He wasn’t sure why he wanted to say that but it felt true, deep in his bones. He missed Master Skywalker and wished he was there for Ahsoka.

But all of that seemed terribly forward of him, so Obi-Wan answered honestly enough, “It always makes me feel better when you hug me so I thought I might return the favor, Master?”

A weak chuckle floated up from their hug and Obi-Wan nodded to himself, deciding that he had not in fact overstepped his bounds and that his master appreciated the gesture. Ahsoka squeezed her padawan closer, “You know what, Obi-Wan? There are days when I wonder how such a young kid can be so wise already.”

Pursing his lips in thought, Obi-Wan replied. “I think it’s because I read a lot of books, Master. And I listen to you. Quinlan Vos has a hard time sitting still long enough to hear the full assignment in class and that’s why his marks are so low.”

“Is that so?” Ahsoka sat back up, rubbing away the tears she hadn’t been able to stop. “Is that why he’s always stopping by, to see your notes from class?”

Obi-Wan shook his head, a sheepish grin on his face. “No. He just wants to come visit. You’ve quite the reputation in my class.”

Ahsoka arched her brows at that. “What are you telling them about me, Obi-Wan?”

“Only the truth, Master,” Obi-Wan replied, looking slightly offended. “That you are a former Shadow, raised entirely outside of the Order and that you and Master Skywalker roamed the Outer Rim doing good and… ehm… breaking up organized crime rings. I might have also told them you fought some pirates as well.”

“Obi-Wan Kenobi!” Ahsoka’s jaw dropped. “You make us sound like holo stars!”

“Well… your stories sound like they come from holovids!” the padawan harrumphed, folding his arms over his chest. “You cannot accuse me of exaggerating when you, yourself, told me last week that Master Skywalker once bargained with a Hutt for your freedom!”

I knew I shouldn’t have told him about that. Ahsoka let out a long sigh and shook her head, amusement on her face. “You have a point, my young Padawan. Although maybe you should be a little more discreet when talking about my… adventures with Master Skywalker. Some of that stuff is still… top secret.”

Yeah. That should work for now, she thought with a bit of guilt.

Obi-Wan nodded, retreating back to his cushion. “Yes, of course, Master. I simply… I forget that not everyone’s master was as deeply embedded in the criminal underworld as you were. It’s hard when the other padawans are bragging about everything their masters did before taking them on.”

“Oh, trust me!” Ahsoka laughed, standing up and holding out a hand to help Obi-Wan up. “I remember that from when I was a padawan, I mean, an initiate. The only people who gossip more than students are their masters.”

“Really?” Obi-Wan yawned, a sudden wave of exhaustion washing through the bond. “What about?”

“Oh things like whose padawan is doing better in what class,” Ahsoka explained, covering her mouth as her own yawn rose up from the pit of her stomach. “Which team has what assignment and other boring things like that.”

As another wave racked Obi-Wan small frame, he stretched his arms up and up, blinking a few times to focus on Ahsoka. “Sounds terribly boring, Master. Do you mind if I go to bed now? I am very tired all of a sudden.”

“Nope,” Ahsoka replied, reaching over to ruffled Obi-Wan’s hair and giggling at his weak protest. “Good night, Padawan.”

“Good night, Master.”

Obi-Wan was already gone from the suite by the time Ahsoka woke up, a note tapped into his datapad left on the breakfast table.

I have ordered breakfast, Master. It should arrive at 0730 and I made sure it included your favorites. I will eat in the dining hall before I go to the Archives. I should be back at 1000 hours.

Obi-Wan

Smiling, Ahsoka put the datapad back in Obi-Wan’s room, on top of the little stack pushed up against the corner his desk was tucked into. She was not at all surprised to see a go bag half packed and sitting on the foot of his bed as well as his favorite pair of tactical boots resting on the floor. It was clear her padawan was trying to prepare for anything that could possibly happen if the little field kit poking out from the opening of the bag was anything to go by.

“No wonder you were so successful in battle, Master Obi-Wan,” Ahsoka murmured as a chime at the door alerted her to the arrival of breakfast, right on time as her padawan had promised.

Obi-Wan quietly chewed on a meal bar as he scoured the Archives for information on Acronae and Acromino and the rebellion that had been going on for the past few years. The relationship between the two seemed not unlike a family dispute, with the Acronae leaving its daughter colony to manage its own affairs until they started unduly increasing the taxes on the population of the colony. The details of internecine squabble might have seemed boring to Quinlan but it fascinated Obi-Wan that it took so little to destroy what had been such a close and effective partnership.

“How did it come to this?” Obi-Wan mumbled around his mouthful, adding the document to his traveling datapad. “Why couldn’t they just sit down and talk out their troubles?”

“Compromise is difficult, Padawan Kenobi.”

The familiar voice of Qui-Gon Jinn startled Obi-Wan out of his rumination and he nearly choked on his breakfast as he jumped in his chair. Gazing up from his seat, he could see the Jedi Master smiling at him from the other side of the long row of desks, his hands resting on his hips. “That is why the Jedi Order is so important. We provide an impartial voice that, when guided by the Living Force, can help both parties reach a truce that benefits everyone.”

Obi-Wan blinked and nodded, still too startled to speak. According to the Temple rumor mill, Master Jinn wasn’t expected back for another few days but clearly he had managed to sneak out of the deification ceremony on Ranbeth. That struck Obi-Wan as poorly done but who was he to speak against a master?

“Good morning, Master Jinn,” Obi-Wan said, pushing himself up out of his seat to bow respectfully. “How did your mission on Ranbeth go? Well I hope?”

“Well enough,” Master Jinn replied with a half smile. “What brings you to the Archives so early this morning? Shouldn’t you be in a class with your agemates?”

Standing a little bit taller, Obi-Wan raised his chin as he answered proudly. “Master Tano and I have been assigned to accompany Master Plo Koon to oversee peace talks between Acronae and Acromino. Master Plo Koon gave me permission to do some research before we depart on the history of the two planets.”

“I see,” Qui-Gon nodded, his expression warm. “You must be very excited. It’s a great honor to be sent on a mission at such a young age.”

Obi-Wan flushed and glanced off to the side, inhaling sharply before replying. “Well… we’ve really only been assigned to observe Master Plo Koon’s work. But it is still an honor to given this assignment. I am the first in my class to receive such a task.”

“Of course,” the Jedi Master nodded, mirth dancing in his eyes and Obi-Wan couldn’t decide if Master Jinn was laughing at him or just being friendly. “Jedi Knight Tano must be very proud of your progress. How goes your saber studies? Are you still focusing mainly on jar’kai?”

“Yes, Master Jinn,” Obi-Wan answered. “Master Tano says I am progressing well and my age group will begin an intensive study of Ataru at the start of the next cycle.”

“Oh really?” Qui-Gon mused, smoothing a hand over his beard as he nodded a greeting to a passing master. “Ataru is my specialty, you know. If you ever find yourself stuck on a difficult form I would be happy to offer what wisdom I have. You need only ask, Padawan Kenobi.”

“Thank you for your kind offer, Master Jinn,” Obi-Wan bowed again, his eyes focused on the table in front of him. “I will be sure to mention it to my master.”

“Excellent,” Qui-Gon said and gave Obi-Wan a crisp bowing nod of his head. “If you’ll excuse me, Padawan Kenobi, I must be going. I wish you the best of luck on your mission and may the Force be with you.”

“May the Force be with you as well, Master Jinn,” Obi-Wan replied, bowing one last time as the towering Jedi master walked away from the desk, giving him the chance to slump back into his seat, nerves making him weak in the knees as adrenaline drained away.

Sighing, Obi-Wan picked up his datapad and slowly fell back into researching the customs and cultures of the people of Acronae and Acromino.

After another hour of reading, note-taking and downloading documents onto his datapad, Obi-Wan stood up for a stretch and a walk up and down the stacks. He passed by a bronzium bust of one of the Lost Masters, frowning up at the Rodian who had chosen to leave the Order in the later half of her life. He wondered what could make a Jedi Master leave the Order, what strange twists and turns of fate could convince someone to cast off their entire life and embrace another, more dangerous and chaotic path.

Who would Obi-Wan Kenobi be without the Jedi Order? Where would he go? What would he do?

He marveled at how Master Ahsoka had lived on her own for so long on the Outer Rim, never falling to the dark side or even being tempted. He liked to think that if something similar happened to him that he would be as strong as his master but he highly doubted that. Obi-Wan’s temper was far too short and he felt things with such intensity that at times it could overwhelm him. It was only through time and practice that he had managed anything resembling calm and even then, it took very little to get his back up. Master Ahsoka said it was charming but Master Yoda disagreed and Master Windu said nothing, just raised an eyebrow at Obi-Wan and moved on.

Obi-Wan supposed Master Ahsoka found his temper charming because she said it reminded her of Master Skywalker. He found it hard to believe that Master Skywalker would have a problem with anything, let alone an explosive and short fuse, but he knew his master would never lie to him. He prayed that with enough practice he would one day be able to rein in his emotions and approach the galaxy with the serene confidence that his mental image of Master Skywalker possessed. Obi-Wan was confident that if he could attain such perfection then he would not only make Master Ahsoka proud but he would show those who had doubted him just how wrong they had been about him.

“I bet Master Skywalker didn’t have to beg someone to take him on as a Padawan Learner,” Obi-Wan muttered to his datapad, trying to ignore the sudden flare up of anger in his gut. “I bet his master took him on as soon as he could.”

Obi-Wan would have given anything to know more about his grandmaster and his great-grandmaster but such things were barred to a padawan learner like himself. And with Master Ahsoka being a former Shadow, it was highly likely that whatever information the Archives had on his lineage would be hidden buried under so many layers of encryption it would take a professional slicer a month to get through it all. Most likely only a Council member would be able to access the files and…

Wait.

Obi-Wan did have Master Plo Koon’s permission to access the entire Archive and Master Nu had shown him how to search the entire database to find the articles, entries and data sets he needed for his research.

And no one was paying Obi-Wan the slightest bit of attention this early in the morning.

If anyone asks, I’ll just tell them that I thought I saw Master Skywalker’s name in one of my articles, Obi-Wan told himself as he pulled up the search screen and typed in the name Skywalker under the Master category.

He frowned when the search algorithm asked him for a first name. He had never bothered to ask Master Ahsoka what her master’s first name was and he wondered if his people were from a culture that only had one name, like Master Yoda. He had heard of human cultures like that, where one only had a given name and every other name indicated one’s relationship to the speaker, the listener or their place within their community. It sounded complicated and fascinating but it would make it all the more difficult for Obi-Wan to track down Master Skywalker if that was his only name.

Obi-Wan skipped the first name entry and activated the search, finishing off his protein bar as he watched the search engine chew through the millions of petabytes of data contained within the Archives. According to Master Nu, there were files held within the great vault of knowledge that were older than the physical temple itself, having been transferred from older temples now lost to time. There were files written in languages and code that only the Temple archivists could translate, the species and people who had given birth to them long since died out. There was such an immense feeling of age and history in the Archives and Obi-Wan found it comforting, to be surrounded by so much wisdom. If the Jedi were great it was partially due to the breadth and depth of their knowledge housed on Coruscant.

The terminal before Obi-Wan chimed and he peered down to see the results of his search, trying to temper his curiosity with the knowledge that he most likely wasn’t going to find anything.

Search query string: Family Name, Skywalker. Species, Human/Near-Human. Gender, Male.

Results: None.

Obi-Wan let out a deep sigh. “I thought not.”

He was about to pull up the recent history of Christophis, to see if he could find any oblique references to Master Ahsoka and Skywalker’s activities on the planet when his chronometer alarm went off. He reluctantly closed out of the terminal, following the instructions given to him by Master Nu, and pushed himself back from the table and returned his chair to its previous position.

Tucking his datapad under his arm, Obi-Wan hurried out of the Archive and loped off to his meeting with Masters Ahsoka and Plo Koon, his master’s first mission to Christophis forgotten for the time being.