#motti replies

[mothiepixie]

Mottie has a very beautiful soul

[nemo-of-house-hamartia]

For the questions: Dorothea and Mathias

I. PRE-RELATIONSHIP

What would their lives be like if they had never met?

II. GENERAL

Which one thinks they aren't good enough for the other, if at all?

Who whispers inappropriate things in the other's ear in public?

III. LOVE

What are their favorite things to do together?

What reminds them of each other?

What do they like best about each other?

IV. DOMESTIC LIFE

What is the wedding like? Who attends?

How do they celebrate holidays?

Do they have any "couple traditions", or family traditions?

Hello Nonnie! welcome welcome!

AND OMG YOU BROUGHT ME QUESTIONS ABOUT MY DARLINGS BEBES. THE TWO THAT ARE 24/7 ON MY MIND. I SO RARELY RECEIVE QUESTIONS ABOUT THEM, SO THANKYOUTHANKYOUTHANKYOU FOR MAKING ME SO HAPPY 💓😭💓 Lemme answer them all! <3 (and buckle up, it's going to be a long one <3 *happy squee*)

I. PRE-RELATIONSHIP

5) What would their lives be like if they had never met? I'd say that, had they never met, their lives would have been rather different, and dare I say, rather tragic. Considering how their whole story is based on the fact that Dorothea found herself out of her own time by absolute accident (or was it Fate, mayhaps, bringing her to where she belonged?), had she never met Mathias, she would have followed through with her parents' plan for her. She would have married Mr. Christopher Sterling, an affluent American Templar Master who had taken an interest in her in 1868, bringing forth their children, as was expected of her, and she would have joined the Templars, eventually becoming Grand Master of London and bringing absolute terror to the Assassins until her death by assassination in 1888. Mathias, on the other end, would have continued his life as he had ever since Emmanuelle destroyed his heart: vowing himself completely to the cause of the French Brotherhood, growing more and more disillusioned by everything around him, and eventually finding his demise in 1794 during the Reign of Terror, causing Antoine to go on an absolute rampage and turning even more to the dark side than she was before.

II. GENERAL

13) Which one thinks they aren't good enough for the other, if at all? Both. Both, for different reasons, believe that they are not good enough for the other. Mathias, due to his disastrous marriage with Emmanuelle, was left with more than just physical scars, and being the introspective man that he was, he didn't want to run the risk of "infecting" Dorothea with the sufference and sadness that he constantly felt; also, his physical disfigurement hindered him from actively pursuing her, terrified as he was that if he were to see the extent of his burn scars on his body, she would be absolutely repulsed and would reject him right away. Dorothea, on her side, thought that she was an absolute inept at romantic matters and not morally good enough for Mathias, especially after spending quite sometimes with him and Antoine and Colette. With them, the flaming passion they had to fight for a better world for everyone, she realized how blind and guillible she had been her whole life, shaped as it was by the Templar's beliefs her father and mother had raised her into. She felt she had been a complete fool that couldn't recognize alone that what her father did was not only wrong but also morally unjust, and that therefore, she as well was absolutely irrecoverable. Once that realization hit her and despite her utmost willingness to critically review her ways, alongside her feelings for Mathias literally roaring within her chest, she reined everyhing in, thinking he would be better off with someone that was never tainted from such ideology. She felt too ashamed to even dare to entertain the idea that he might want her. Thank goodness Colette was there to show them how they were so wrong about it all, and instead how, despite all the tragedies and sadness in their life, they were so similar to one another that they truly were two halves of the same soul, and renouncing this chance at happiness would be their greatest mistake.

11) Who whispers inappropriate things in the other's ear in public? DOROTHEA. She was EXTREMELY good at playing coy and being a little tease with her husband, and you can bet that Dorothea was the one that more often than not approached Mathias with the excuse of wanting a hug and a kiss, and ended up whispering all sort of suggestive things to his ears and against his neck, just for the satisfaction of seeing Mathias' face turn all red and rendering him a mumbling mess. However, she knew that, come nighttime, Mathias would be the one to render HER a whole mumbling mess under his most intimate caresses.

III. LOVE

6) What are their favorite things to do together? Playing music together is definitely one of their favourite activities together. Mathias was an excellent pianist and had an incredible voice, warm and soothing, and he adores sitting down and duet with Dorothea in the evening, singing together or playing the piano while Dorothea accompanies him, either with her voice or her violin. Alternatively, since Mathias had good training in dancing when he was a child, under his adoptive mother's tutelage, he would never say no to a round of waltz, knowing how much she adored dancing around with him. Another favourite things they enjoyed together was riding around the countryside. Mathias was a skilled equestrian, always more at ease around horses than humans, and during their courtship, he taught her how to ride, an activity that she enjoyed immensely, given that her parents never allowed her to do so for fear that she might hurt herself in the process. Dorothea was forever grateful to Mathias for teaching her because whenever she rode around with her horse, she felt truly and properly free, one with the wind.

9) What reminds them of each other? Dorothea was reminded of Mathias whenever her fingers flew over the keyboard of a pianoforte, tickling the ivories in the melodies that were him. She was reminded of him in the tranquillity of a bubbling brooke close to the meadow of their house; in the light of the full moon that lit up the dirt road that lead to the their house in the countryside, in the roaring of the voice of the waves that crashed against the white shore of Normandy, that reminded her so much of Dover; she was always reminded of him in the laughter of their children, that resembled him in so many aspects. Mathias was reminded of Dorothea in the soft, pale light of the sky at dawn, when the sun is not far away from the horizon, ready to break the night and bring forth another cheerful day; the stars that dotted the sky in the middle of the night, so similar to the way her freckles kissed her cheeks; He was reminded of her during the soft falling of the snow, and quiet silence that encompassed the land during winter time; Whenever he saw a flowery meadow in spring, he would think of her, and the time they spent together reading to one another among the wild flowers. He saw her resilience and kind determination in all their children, sweet Léonie in particular.

10) What do they like best about each other? Physically speaking, Dorothea *absolutely* adored Mathias' eyes. They were the most beautiful pair of eyes she had ever seen in all her life, not only for the dark colour and upward shape, but also for the way they were able to convey all Mathias' love for her without him uttering a single word. There was a whole world enclosed behind them, a lot that he left unspoken, and at the beginning of their courtship, she would find herself staring at them without even realizing she was doing so, trying as she could to decypher the mystery behind those long dark lashes. Mathias, instead, loved her smile, so genuine and sweet and welcoming, and loved the way Dorothea's face would light up when smiling for him. There was something so incredibly endearing when she smiled, he would oftentimes resort to silly jokes just for the chance to see that smile and hear her laughter. It brought him absolute comfort and delight in being the reason that she smiled and laughed. Now, in regards to their personality, Dorothea adored Mathias' sensitivity and kindess and generosity, the fact that, despite all the pain and misery he had gone through, he never EVER allowed himself to become a callous man, never allowed himself to give in to anger and contempt and selfishness, remaining instead a caring, honourable and gentle human being. He was his best friend Mathias, instead, was absolutely enthralled by Dorothea's kindness and loving heart, her sharp intellect, and her unwillingness to deceive, even when that would cost her greatly. During their courtship, he found these traits of her personality incredibly endearing and the ones that would prompt him to ask her to be his wife.

IV. DOMESTIC LIFE

3) What is the wedding like? Who attends?

Their wedding was as simple as it could be, in one of the niches in Notre Dame, attended by a Priest after Dorothea converted to Catholicism. The only people presents during their celebration were Antoine and Claude, Colette and Arno and Mathias' best friend Xavier, who had been the one that actually created the occasion for Mathias to declare himself to Dorothea and ask her to marry him. Dorothea, due to the fact that all her family was technically not born, had no one to invite to celebrate with her, but she knew that, in spirit, Byron was always there to support her and her happiness, so for that reason, she kept the compass he had given her inside one of the pockets of her wedding dress (a simple old robe that had belonged to Mathias' adoptive mother).

Unbeknownst to all of them (with the exception of Xavier), their ceremony was also attended by Rodrigo Reyes Moreno, Mathias and Antoine's uncle from their mother side. Xavier informed him that Mathias was to be wedded soon to his ladylove, and quick as his horse allowed, reached them in France, bringing with him a family heirloom that had belonged to his sister Ximena: a ring that was passed down the women from generation to generation in the Reyes Moreno, that was to be worn once married with the promise of a life rich in love and happiness. He entrusted the gift to Xavier, so that he could deliver him to Mathias, knowing that even if Ximena could not wear it for her own wedding (since there was none), at least her son's wife would.

9) How do they celebrate holidays?

In the peace and quietness of their cozy abode, for sure! 😂You see, with Colette and Antoine always looking after their brother and his wife and loving to spend the holidays all together, sometimes Mathias and Dorothea had an hard time to be completely alone during the holidays, even more so after their children were born. So, before becoming parents, they would sometimes try to run away in the countryside to just enjoy each other's presence, since it was the one they loved the most.

13) Do they have any "couple traditions", or family traditions?

Considering how both of them were two absolute nightowls, sometimes, when the moon was full and the weather serene, Dorothea loved to surprise Mathias with a midnight picnic, just for the two of them. She would spread a blanket in the garden that Mathias had planted for Dorothea, and with lit lanterns around them, they would enjoy some of the dishes that Dorothea had cooked for him (thanks to Colette being the best teacher ever <3). The quiet of the night around them, with only the moon kissing them, the stars twinkling for them, the crickets chirping softly, fireflies flying around them as the wind gently blow and danced through the tree branches....it made them feel secure, protected in the bubble that was their love, as if they were the only two people in the entire world.

Another couple tradition they had was connected to reading. They both were two ENORMOUS bookworms, with an impressive collection of books that they had collected throughout the years. But what's special about those books were the old, worn-out bookmarks that they had glued to various pages. Each bookmark had a memory attached - a quote they loved, a tear-stained page due to one of their fights, a shared laughed caused by a sentence. It was a tradition started by Dorothea: she was so terrified that something might happen and bring her back to the XIX Century that she wanted to have those memories collected by those bookmarks, so that everything she had with Mathias was "set in stone" and nothing could ever erase it.

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Thank you so much for this ask <3 it took me a little to write it all down, but I had so much fun <3

Truly, it put such a big smile on my face and such happiness to my heart, Nonnie, you have no idea <3

Thank you <3

[fandomsniper]

:3

----

Krennic, sarcastically: I bet you're real fun at parties.

Thrawn, instantly: You'd know if were invited.

----

Needa, concerned: Why is Max lying face-down on the floor and crying? What the hell happened?

Motti: Piett yelled at him.

----

Jerjerrod: Conan, what does "breedable" mean?

Jerjerrod: Conan?

Motti: Tiaan, it's 3 in the morning.

Jerjerrod: Am I breedable?

Jerjerrod: To you.

Motti: Please. Stop saying that.

----

Krennic: Do you think together in every universe?

Tarkin: I hope we aren't.

----

Piett, texting Veers: I'm going to strangle you the next time I see you.

Veers, replying: Can you even reach my neck?

----

Lastok: You look like a painting from the rain a sauce

Lastok: rainesaunce

Lastok: ressasaunce

Heert: The Renaissance. 

Lastok: Yess

Heert: That's so sweet.

----

Covell: Do you see yourself as a glass half-full or glass half-empty kind of person? 

Venka: Half-full, definitely.

Venka: Half-full and constantly rising.

Venka: Soon the water will escape its container and consume us all.

[caycanteven]

To Steal A Ship

hehehe i wrote more and will continue to write more. Motti belongs to @mothiepixie and Lex belongs to me &lt;3

Lex rehoisted her leather duffle against her shoulder as she followed her new captain toward the harbor. The sun wasn't blistering with it's early rise that morning, but the warm rays and cool sea breeze was a delicate reminder of the day ahead and many to come. The smell of saltwater was strong, though not as strong as the gutted fish smell as the two pushed their way around the docks toward the supposed ship her new captain acquired. "Someday I'll have somethin' like that," Motti spoke up with a pointed finger.

Lex hummed, raising a brow and following Motti's gesture to a brigantine anchored in the port. She acknowledged the woodwork and it's fine craftsmanship, a fine merchant ship no less. Her one eye landed on the beauty at the bow, a figure head of a mermaid who's hand outstretched to rest underneath it's bowsprit. It was most certainly a sight for a sailor's sore eyes. "Aye, that ship is a sight," Lex chuckled softly and shook her head good naturedly. "Merchant ship," she noted openly as she pushed through two large fisherman who crowded her. She gave them a glare, before taking Motti's side.

"Ye right," the captain nodded with a thoughtful hum, "I could of afforded a ship like that long ago, but for now I got the best I could."

Lex raised a brow again at the hint of a past her new captain had yet to share. She'd never pry for the information, though she admitted she was curious. She knew she wasn't from the same upbringing as herself, but if she wasn't, then how did she get to this point?

"So ye got a ship, then?"

Motti nodded, "'course I got a ship. Ain't much, but it's enough."

Lex and Motti stopped at last next to a schooner, who's appearance and care was much less than the merchant ship they shared appreciation for. Lex's single eye considered the vessel and it's hull. Not a large ship, but not a sloop; it was a good starter boat, but if her captain even dared to sail the seas in search of the Black Fiend, she'd need to upgrade it eventually.

Perhaps they could manage a few minor bounties, or goods transportation for local merchants between ports. It would be a decent start, but a long, long time before they'd be able to afford a brigantine of their own. It wouldn't be as nice as that other brig--especially if it were to have a figure head as nice as that--but it would be their own.

Lex followed Motti onto the rickety catwalk joining the dock and the schooner. She hummed and pressed a boot into the dock, testing her weight on the wood, fortunately finding it sturdy. Lex leaned against the mainmast as she dropped her duffle on the deck. She watched contently as the captain expressed how she came to own such a vessel.

"I was lucky 'nough the old bastard who had this before was so willin' to part with it for what I had," Motti huffed and placed her hands on her hips as she tapped her boot's heal against the ships deck. "Had'er repaired a bit but could be better, I suppose."

Lex hummed in agreement. "Aye, she'll do," she chuckled softly.

Motti smiled appreciatively and held her chin proudly, "I plan to head to the port south here in two days time. Lookin' fer more work, of course, but maybe some more crew." Seeing Lex nod, she felt confident enough to breach her next subject.

"Can ye sail?"

Lex shot Motti a confused look mid bite of an apple she pulled from her leather duffle, raising a brow and grunting in affirmation. "Aye...?" she replied, though curiously before biting into the fruit.

Motti smiled and only gave a nod, before turning to explain what else was available on the ship as well as her plans to gain a small fortune and where she believed the Black Fiend would be next.

Lex, on the other hand, was suspicious and refused to let the topic drop. She wiped her lips of bitter juice, her mouth full as she questioned her captain carefully.

"Can ye sail, Cap'n?"

Motti stiffened, shifting uncomfortably on the deck as she looked over her shoulder sheepishly toward her crew member.

"...ye can't sail, can ye?"

"...no."

Lex sighed with a groan under her breath. She shook her head, realizing what she was getting into when it came to this new captain; it supported her suspicions more so. However, as she stood straight, she refused to question her captain further and she decided to do the next best thing.

"Aight, cap'n, I'm gonna have to teach ya then."

"What? Really?!" Motti exclaimed happily, but Lex eased the captain back onto the heels of her boots with a stern look.

"Aye, but ye hold ye britches," she began, "cause ye got no clue how to steer a boat, ye can't leave port. Gonna have to teach ya quickly if ye plan to head to the next in two days."

"Can't ye just--"

"Aye, maybe fer a bit, but ye need to know how yer own ship works. A captain is only as good as their ship," Lex enforced gently. "Ye eventually can hire a helmsman," she muttered and put her hands on her hips, "but fer now, let's get ye sea legs underneath ye." Seeing Motti's excitement in her blue eyes brought a warm flutter to Lex's chest. She smiled and turned the captain and started explaining the parts of the ship, from bowsprit to port.

Lex wasn't quite sure what she was getting into when she told her captain she'd teach her how to sail.

Though losing the ol' schooner on the day before they planned to leave port was not what she anticipated.

Lex grunted, sitting against a post of the dock as she wrung out her hair. Thankfully, their belongings were salvageable and they only lost their rations planned for the trip, but the ship as a whole was the greatest loss.

How in Davy Jone's locker were they gonna get anywhere without a ship?

"Sorry," Motti mumbled defeatedly, wringing out the skirts around her waist as she grumbled curses beneath her breath. She was soaked, but Lex was more than thankful her captain knew how to swim at least. Sailing was one thing, swimming was another. Motti scowled at the water that left her flintlock's holster as she emptied it.

"Ye just need practice," Lex reassured softly, trying her best not to express her frustration so easily. She rubbed her face once her hair was efficiently not as drenched. "Gotta admit to ye cap'n, we ain' gonna be doin' any practicin' without a ship, or get to the southern port tomorrow." Lex picked up her boot to wrench it off, then poured out the water on the inside, a couple small fish flopping on the deck with the gentle splash.

Motti sighed and plopped down, hands on her freckled cheeks with disappointment and irritation knitted in her brows. "Aye, I'm aware."

Lex hummed, seeing the defeated look. She sighed, "Oi, cap, don't let--"

She jumped when Motti exclaimed proudly her sudden idea.

"Ye wha?!"

"Ye and I will steal a ship!"

Lex stared, baffled as she blinked. She turned her head and began smacking her ears, grumbling about the water making her hear things.

Motti, however, grabbed her hand and gave her a firm look of determination. "We steal a ship. Ye know yer way around weapons, I know my way around men."

"Ye just admitted ye like to get aroun'," Lex scoffed and raised her brow, but couldn't help the little smirk curling at her lips.

"Not like that. I ruin the hearts of anyone, sure, but I got my eyes set on someone already and we're gonna find'em no matter what," Motti snorted smugly. "How ya think I got that...well, had that ship?"

Lex smirked and chuckled softly. So, that was how she managed, she thought, she's a fine manipulator, if she's doin' it right. Can't blame her in this life, I suppose. Lex sighed, relenting to Motti's eagerness and contagious desire to cause trouble for their benefit. "Aight, aight. Ye got me on the hook, cap."

"So, ye got anotha ship in mind?"

"I think ye already know," Motti grinned.

It wasn't easy, but it certainly wasn't hard to get on board. The captain was right about one thing; men flocked to her as soon as she presented herself. Lex had to hand it to her, she knew how to get them distracted, but seein' as their plan was working so well, Lex took it upon herself to scope out the rest of the ship.

Weapons, rations, merchant cargo from a northern port, no doubt. She'd seen some of these things before, not to mention the crops that grew there were valuable to southern and central ports. This ship was full of it. They could likely sell it themselves and get plenty of gold in return.

Though one thing that had Lex's eye was a beautiful musket, made with mahogany wood and fine metal. It looked like it hadn't been used. Lex took care to examine the weapon and it's condition, before giving it a quick glance down the sight.

Oh yes, this was a beautiful weapon, indeed.

Lex's examination was interrupted at the sound of chatter muffled by the hull of the brigantine. Her immediate thought was of her captain, and she quickly got up with the musket in hand and it's pouch of ammo at her belt. She knew there were limited guards on the ship, but she was weary as she snuck around back to the upper deck. She crashed her back against the side and peeked over the railing.

The captain had her hands full; larger men, sailors that worked for the ship perhaps, were crowding her with rather disgusting grins. Lex narrowed her eye at the looks they had, and one had gotten close.

Far too close.

The glint of metal was all she needed

The crack in the air sent men and straggling fisherman on the docks into a surprised panic. The man, who's knife was bared before Captain Motti, fell lifeless as his dead weight hit the edge of the harbor's dock and into the waters below.

Motti, hands on her hat and eyes finding Lex on the ship's edge, quickly began to push her way past the men who'd yet to recover from the gun shot.

Though, at the sight of Motti breaking for the ships ladder, they seemed to realize they'd been run a rig. "Stop them!" Yelled a sailor, and another dove for Motti in chase.

Lex grunted and cursed under her breath. She needed to reload. She snarled and she grabbed her own flintlock from her belt and she lifted it in haste to take aim and fire once more.

A warning shot; the bullet whistled past with the second crack of the gun, scaring the man off his pursuit and falling face first into the wooden boards. That gave her captain plenty of time, she was certain.

"Sink me, ye savvy Cap?!" Lex yelled urgently to Motti as she climbed the ladder and joined her crew mate.

"Blimey. Ye I'm fine, ye ol' salt!" Motti huffed and she looked over her shoulder as the men started after them. She gasped as Lex pushed past her and cut the ladder with her knife, swift and quick.

"No time to watch them feed the fishes," she grumbled and she climbed the bridge to the helm. "Weigh anchor, we leave now! Ye remember how I showe'd ye the sails?" Lex yelled as she began to reload her musket, preparing for the worst.

Motti nodded fervently and quickly got to work without a second thought. It took time, but when they managed to haul the anchor back up, Lex was already at the helm and directing the ship out of port. Motti quickly joined her, the two of them witnessing the wind catch the sails with vigor and the boat forced through the waves.

"Aye! We're doing it!" Motti exclaimed.

"Not yet, Cap, still gotta outrun the fleet if they show," Lex grunted and jerked the wheel effortlessly left to steer out of port. Another crack sounded and Lex quickly ducked as did Mottie. "Blimey!"

Motti looked portside to see the sailor who'd fired. She grunted and grabbed her own flintlock. With quickness, she fired and held firm as the gun jerked upward following the bullet.

The captain didn't miss.

Lex smirked, surprised yet impressed. "Aye, ye can shoot but ye can't sail?!" she laughed ands he held to the wooden wheel.

"Sailin' is much harder than shootin', and one of them I learned when I was younga!" Motti smiled.

The two shared a boisterous laugh as they stole away with their prize, a brigantine fit for a crew to be, with a golden mermaid at it's bow.

[ask-sad-ghost-piett]

Am I the Nerf Herder? (Honest Answers Please)

A while ago, I was terribly busy with work and extremely stressed planning ways to haunt the Rebels. During my planning, Moff Jerjerrod decided it was a good time to talk to me and repeatedly ignored my hints that I needed to be left alone. At no point did he offer to help me with the haunting, despite the fact that he is one of our ghostly command and thus, it is part of his duties to the Empire. Eventually, I told him I didn't have time for idle conversation, to which he replied that I was overworking myself, hence why I'm always "so sullen" and I have bags under my eyes. He told me to simply take a break, saying that the afterlife ought to be a place of rest, as if it were that easy. At that point, I lost my temper and told him to go kriff himself, resulting in Jerjerrod running away in tears.

Shortly after, I received a series of death threats from Jerjerrod's lover, Admiral Motti, which eventually resulted in a duel. The duel went awry and led to both Motti and I being stranded in the afterlife, alongside Jerjerrod, my partner General Veers, and Needa. We have since managed to be exorcised back to the realm of the deceased, but things have been very tense between Jerjerrod and I since then.

Needa says I ought to apologize and hope that he will return the courtesy. I don't think that is appropriate, as I was not the one initially at fault. However, I'd like to get this settled. Jerjerrod and I have had our rough patches, but generally speaking, he's been a decent friend, and I don't have many of those.

-Admiral Piett

[userthatisnotauser]

Made a bunnykill fanserver! Link will be in replies, its just a place to hang out and discuss the series without bothering mottis with it. if youre a fan of madcom and wanna explore some of the work inspired by it bunnykill is a good one to start with!

[madelgard]

AO3 First Lines Tag game

Thank you @alexx-dax for the tag!

Rules: Share the first lines of ten of your most recent fanfics and tag ten people. If you have written fewer than ten, don’t be shy and share anyway.

Tagging @betsybo83, @fallowsthorn, and @neumh.

I'm including all WIPs because I have quite a lot of those at present.

10. Starsick, chapter 5 (Motti/Jerjerrod)

Jerjerrod had never invited another man into his bed. If the occasion were ever called for—and what occasion that would be, he could not imagine—he’d have thought he’d…well. Be a bit more subdued about it. There’d be a dinner, perhaps; privately catered in his quarters, or on his estate.

Yes, Val Denn was a natural fit. Secrecy could be guaranteed. The manor would be run on a skeleton staff that evening, servants trimmed down to the barest number. The dinner partner in question would be similarly discreet. Refined, and as cautious as his host. They’d eat together, maybe brush hands under the table—fleetingly, and with minimal eye contact. And then they’d retire behind closed doors to Jerjerrod’s suite, where he could let the gates down, just a little.

But not too much. Not enough to get caught.

9. Motti/Jerjerrod/Veers stuck in a shuttle threesome

“Stop it, Co—ah, Admiral M-Motti, this is not the time.” It sounded whinier than usually, which was saying something: Rear Admiral Jerjerrod possessed the whiniest baritone in the Joint Chiefs by Veers’s estimation. Not that there was much competition in that regard. Out of all of them, Jerjerrod was the only man among them more pencil-pusher than soldier.

And ever since they’d crammed together in this escape pod, he’d been pushing one pencil in particular.

“Stop what,” Admiral Motti drawled. He flashed a lazy grin, less of a smile and more of a wolf's leer. At this proximity Veers could count the teeth. “I’m just getting comfortable, Admiral. Not a lot of leg room in here, and you’re all elbows—”

8. Motti/Jerjerrod D/s thing

“Big breaths, Ti,” Motti muttered. Right against Jerjerrod’s ear, puffed hot into the shell. He could dart his tongue out if he wanted, or press a kiss to the lobe.

But he didn’t. Not yet. Not until Jerjerrod finally bent.

“I don’t need lecturing,” Jerjerrod replied, all prickly pride and hot-blooded nerves. Under Motti’s hand, he was a livewire. “I know how to—oh, Conan—”

7. Motti/Jerjerrod cadet-era lingerie fic

It came down to comfort. Tiaan had always been sensitive to texture, to fabric. The synthetic drag of plasteen against his skin would cause an outbreak of hives. Cheap linen-mesh itched interminably; the regulation undershirts of a first-year cadet at Corellia Naval Academy had therefore proven something of a trial. He’d spent the first week of lectures tugging on his clothing and squirming in his seat (and hadn’t that sent Conan cackling).

But Tiaan would endure. He’d wear his regulation-issued clothing, no matter how scratchy, how cut-rate, how one-size-fits-all. He’d suffer the indignities of a mandated uniform with his chin held high, as a Jerjerrod ought to do.

Well, for most of the uniform.

6. Motti/Jerjerrod and Thrawn/Piett proposal fic

The Seswenna sector boasted some of the finest beach resorts this side of the Rimma Trade Route. Big blue planets, as big and as blue as—well, as parts of Thrawn that had gotten Motti into a largish spot of trouble. Introducing his Chiss friend to the wonders of exercising in a speed-strap had seemed like a good idea at the time (if only for the reaction it provoked in Piett, that little voyeur), but he’d neglected to account for Jerjerrod. Apparently he found Thrawn’s big blue orbs something of a threat. At least when they were in the vicinity of Motti’s own unmentionables.

5. Jerjerrod/Piett, Sith sex artifact causes them to have sex

It was watching him. Or at least, it felt like it. The small carved indents on its obsidian face seemed to track his movements. Strange little eyes, never blinking. The statuette was no taller than his datapad, but its presence was significant. It had a sinister aura—which was appropriate, Piett supposed, for an alleged Sith artifact.

4. Jerjerrod/Piett, Jerjerrod has a thing for ballet

Sunrise on Tinnel IV was a protracted affair. Days ran for thirty-two hours, and the appearance of daylight proper was correspondingly drawn-out. To be up at sunrise, then, gave a Tinnelian a decent window of time. Piett was not a native, but he was residing in the home of the resident Moff and so, he reasoned, he should be afforded the same leeway as anyone else on the planet. Which meant a slower, more languid morning; rare for him, but not unwelcome. He liked to take his time to wake up whenever he had the opportunity.

“You don’t have to be awake yet,” Jerjerrod said. He was sitting up, leaning back against the headboard and scrolling through his datapad. “You’re on holiday. Take advantage.”

Piett yawned. “If I fall out of habit, it’s just going to make it more difficult to get back into the swing of things. No need to get lazy.”

3. Motti/Jerjerrod multiverse, many Mottis and many Tiaans all together and whoops they bang

There was a hand tangled in his curls, tight and insistent; two more on his shoulders, twinned in strength to the one on his head; a third cupped his jaw, the tender back-and-forth thumbing at once familiar in its motions and fourth new in texture. For this hand was scarred in a way unique to its holder.

Unique, but not unique. Known and unknown. Tiaan was acquainted with every dip and swell of Conan’s body, the lines of his living geometry memorized with eyes and tongue and touch; to suddenly be thrust into a surging mass of Mottis new to him—

Vertiginous didn’t begin to cover it.

2. Veers/Jerjerrod, post-ESB Veers calms Jerjerrod's nerves (with sex)

General Veers considered himself to be a perceptive man. A certain level of perceptiveness was necessary to survive in the Imperial Army, and a much larger degree of perceptiveness was critical to surviving Lord Vader. Whether it was a sixth sense, good training, or a matter of pure luck, he had always been able to identify issues other men seemed to miss.

“You’ve got eagle eyes, Max,” Piett liked to say. “Probably because you’re so bloody tall. Hard to miss things when you’ve got such a view.”

But it didn’t take any keen insight to recognize that Moff Jerjerrod was at his wit’s end.

1. Motti/Jerjerrod, Jerjerrod escapes the DS-2 explosion

For better or worse, Moff Jerjerrod had little in common with Grand Moff Tarkin.

It would have been nice to have some of the man’s innate authority. Nobody could command attention like Tarkin; when he had strolled into a room, everyone took notice. Chatter died down, dissent was quelled—cruelly and swiftly, if needed—and his will was, without question, obeyed. Tarkin had been in possession of a rare breed of power and control, and it was no wonder that he had been so high in the Emperor’s esteem. Truly, he was a force to be reckoned with.

He was also dead, and in that regard Jerjerrod held a distinct advantage.

[getoswhore]

so does this means we getting an asiah x reader

[mothiepixie]

I have to ask whether you're familiar with bitty, because i have this mental image of Motti with a reaper bitty snuggly tucked in her cleavage, being doted on like the adorable cute and far less powerful miniature version, while Reaper himself is just a fuming storm cloud of rage, watching from a distance.

It's hard watching others live your dream.

[nemo-of-house-hamartia]

Nemooo, I'm so excited for this! \o/ For the 5 sentence game - Mottie please and thank you!!! 💜😊😘

Dearest Susie, thank you so much for this ask!! :D

I answered it, with great thoroughness HERE.

HOPE YOU WILL LIKE IT! <3

[sulphuryasecretcloset]

What if...10b

Okay, so this ‘epilogue’ became... a monster. I decided to split chapter 10 into two parts because it was already so big, and, uh, yeah, now I’m splitting 10b into three parts. THIS IS WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU ENABLE ME, PEOPLE. Your lovely comments, your kind reblogs and support turned this from what was supposed to be no more than 4 chapters into 90 000 word ramble.

*ahem*

So part 10b is Dulcy POV, 10c is chaotic everyone POV, and then there will be a bonus part for someone who didn’t get to join Dulcy and Dav’s little family.

-

What if Dulsissia hadn’t died, what if she had grabbed Corin and fled? What if she met Davarax? What if…

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10a

Epilogue; Dulcy

“We’ll be back later, dad!” Corin exclaims from where he’s standing next to Din in the doorway, eager to call Davarax that at every occasion he can find.

Davarax nods and gives a light wave to the two teenagers about to step out of the house they have rented on this obscure, little planet and head into the nearby town. (Having picked up a bit of Motti credits makes things a lot easier.) “Duly noted, son.”

The slight smile on his face tells Dulsissia that Davarax is well aware of Corin’s need to constantly reaffirm their new relationship and indulges him with never-ending patience. But what she also notes is how Din hesitates half a second while Corin turns to leave and she sees there is hurt in his dark eyes as they linger on Davarax.

That evening, while Barthor wraps up his conversation with his father via the holo-communicator, Davarax holds Raga back until the boy is done and the line is free for her to call her parents.

Dulsissia glances after Barthor shuffling back towards their house, helmet held low and shoulders slumped. Just like during previous calls, his parents show close to no interest in their son and he is equally disappointed every time. “Dav?”

Davarax turns his attention away from Raga and over to Dulsissia. “Yeah?”

“Why don’t you adopt the others too? Like you did with Corin?” Her heart breaks every time she sees these children with sadness in their eyes and Davarax is the one who always brings smiles to their faces.

Sighing, Davarax leans against the door frame. “It’s not that easy…”

“Why not?”

“For one thing, Paz and Raga have their families. The Saxons are… unique, but they love her. And Dez, well, I hope that maybe he’ll come to his senses.” Davarax looks over at Barthor’s retreating shape as well. “Barthor… I might have to talk to him about it.”

Dulsissia frowns as he doesn’t mention the most obvious one of all; “What about Din?”

“Din…” Davarax looks down at the floor. He looks guilty. “I messed that up. Big time.”

“He’d forgive you in a heartbeat.” Dulsissia declares. “He worships you.”

“Maybe.” Davarax replies, not sounding convinced. “But I don’t deserve his forgiveness. And after what he’s been through, I think Din needs to be allowed to hold on to his roots before another adult tries to pressure their identity on him.”

What that boy needs is a father, Dulsissia thinks, but before she can voice her thoughts she’s distracted by someone shouting. Looking over, she sees Raga’s mother in the holo-projector screaming at someone out of sight before turning back to focus on her daughter again.

“What was that, Raga? You said something about how many push ups? You’re up to what now?”

“Fifty-”

“PUT THAT DOWN!” Raga’s mother bellows to her right and then makes a frustrated grunt and reaches out to grab someone. “Here. Talk to your brother. I have to murder your other two brothers for a bit.” She steps away and a smaller Mandalorian with a green helmet takes her place.

“Raga. Still ugly I see. You really should have kept the helmet on.”

“Sioben. Still a moron, I hear. I was kind of hoping dad had followed through on his threat to dropkick you into space.” Raga counters. “Paz taught me some new tricks. I’m going to kick your ass when I see you again.”

Sioben shakes his head. “I don’t know why he puts up with you. He could have anyone he wants, he’s a huge badass ‘and’ a Vizla. I can’t think of a single reason why he lets you stick around.”

“Don’t hurt your brain trying to think.” Raga snarls.

“At least I have a brain. Unlike you.” Sioben fires back.

A hand appears and smacks into Sioben’s helmet and he goes toppling out of sight and Raga’s mother appears again. “Listen, I have to go. I’m a bit busy here. Say hi to Davarax from me. Be careful out there, Raga. Byebye.” The woman’s holo-image dissolves and she’s gone.

When Raga walks out of the room, Dulsissia reaches out and touches her shoulder. “I’m sorry, baby.”

“What for?” Raga asks with a huge grin. “Didn’t you hear that? She didn’t yell at me once!”

Dulsissia looks over at Davarax with a look of slight belief while the girl walks away, humming happily and he can only offer a weak shrug in return.

-

And on the subject of Paz and Raga...

While there are still sides to the Mandalorian culture that are still a mystery to her, Dulsissia remembers more than enough about what it was like to be a human a teenager to see what is happening there.

The two have been drawn together as friends since they were small children, as far as Dulsissia understands. They always gravitate towards each other. If you see one, odds are good that the other is nearby or about to appear. And Dulsissia feels both compassion and amusement as she sees the growing awkwardness as a different kind of attraction between them starts to enter the picture.

Dulsissia tries to hide her laughter when she sees Raga pretending to need a water break but only so she can let her gaze roam all over Paz as he continues his intense training next to her. Raga has always been climbing him like a jungle gym, but these days it brings a flush to her cheeks when he holds her close or play-wrestle with her, and Raga even smiles in her sleep the times she drowses off with her head resting on his chest. It’s a shame she seems unable to voice what she feels.

This leads to the seething anger in Raga’s eyes when Paz mindlessly flirt with the local girls and basks in their attention. An anger which causes her to pick fights with Din and the others, violent fights that always ends badly for at least one of them and Davarax has to patch them up while trying to calm Raga down.

At the same time, with a stealth worthy of admiration, Paz’ gaze discretely seeks out Raga with an interest and longing he doesn’t show any of the local girls desperately trying to hold his attention. His attention trail along her curves, he flushes at glimpses of her skin and it is kind of cute how he’s only happy if Raga is happy.

Unfortunately Paz seems too insecure, which is absurd, to actually show how her how he feels.

His temper is as bad as Raga’s, though, which causes Paz to one day actually punch a hole in a wall. He flat out refuses to explain why he’d done it, even when Davarax wraps up his bleeding hand and asks in a frustrated voice what is going on with him, but Dulsissia accidentally overheard earlier when Raga agreed to go out on a date with a suitor of her own and suspects that is why.

“I’m going to help them.” Dulsissia declares one morning after Raga had managed to draw both Din and Corin into a vicious brawl the previous evening, just after Paz had gone out to meet some girl.

Davarax grunts, half-asleep on his stomach with his face partly burrowed into the pillow. “They’ll figure it out eventually.”

She sends him, or his back to be more precise, a dry glance. “Are you kidding me? Those two? If someone doesn’t help them along, it’ll take yeeaars.”

Davarax snorts a laugh. “At your own peril, cyare.”

Dulsissia thinks about all her excellent work as a matchmaker back on Seswenna. That included family ranks, politics and enough credits to buy a minor planet. These are two teenagers. She’s got this.

It’s a delicate mission. First Dulsissia establishes through a little research that there is absolutely no doubt that these two feel the same and are just too emotionally constipated to do something about it, then she goes to work on them separately. Hints, questions and light nudges.

It takes a surprisingly short time for them to admit to her what she already knows, but neither is willing to make the first move.

“Why not go for it?” Dulsissia eventually asks..

“I don’t think he/she thinks of me that way…” Raga/Paz replies. Her face bright red as she half-heartedly trains defensive moves with Dulsissia one sun-soaked day. Him with quiet sadness when Dulsissia delivers some clean laundry to his room one evening.

“I think you’d be surprised.” Dulsissia teases and winks.

After that, they become a little braver. Instead of just friendly bickering, Raga and Paz both add a little intent and teasing to their interactions, and that eventually develop into outright flirting.

During training Davarax sends Dulsissia a dry look when Paz, instead of following through with his attack, merely keeps his hands against the wall, fencing in the grinning and uncharacteristically passive Raga and hovers there with a slight smirk of his own. Davarax rolls his eyes when Raga, after flipping Paz over and have him land on his back, simply straddles his stomach and pretends to hold him down with her hands on his shoulders instead of following through with her attack and Paz, also uncharacteristically passive, looks like he’s enjoying himself more than anything else.

Dulsissia regrets nothing.

-

Barthor is in heavy denial, Din wrinkles his nose and Corin is incredibly oblivious as Paz and Raga keep inching their way closer to what they both dream about having. They push things as far as they can go and then some, before one of them finally dares to cross the line...

Sitting next to each other on the stairs behind the big battle arena, Paz and Raga had decided to sneak outside the building instead of staying with the others to watch the final game. Usually they both live and breathe for such big fights, but for some reason it seemed more tempting to sneak off like this.

They sit in this dark back-alley, her shoulder bumping lightly against his upper arm, talking.

It’s silly. They see each other every day, they talk every day, and yet they struggle to look at the other right now. Words tumble a little awkwardly. Hearts thump hard.

Then there is a huge cheer from the crowd inside the arena and Paz looks over at Raga. She looks back over at him, and after a moment of hesitation, he cautiously leans towards her.

Raga’s eyes light up. Oh. But just as she lifts her chin a little to meet him, giving him an unspoken invite, Paz abruptly loses his courage and quickly withdraws to stare down at the ground again.

Raga exhales, disappointed. Suddenly her eyes flare with angry annoyance and she thumps her shoulder against his arm, and when he looks at her, she quickly leans over and presses a brief, hard kiss to his lips. After that, she’s the one to turn to stare at the ground while heat burns in her face.

Stunned, Paz stares at her. He stares for what feels like a small eternity, then he slowly reaches out his hand, touches by her jawline and eases her into facing him again. And that is when he finally has the courage to lean over, his fingers still resting on her skin, and ever so softly touches his lips to hers.

It’s a gentle, trying thing. Raga draws a shivering breath, her lips trembling a little as well but soon they move to meet his as he cautiously coaxes a response from her.

After a little while, Paz pulls back and scans her face for her response.

Raga grins.

That makes him smile as well.

-

Dulsissia is obnoxiously pleased. Declaring herself the matchmaking champion.

Davarax only regrets not stopping her when stolen kisses in secret between the two becomes public make-out sessions. Truth be told, he wouldn’t have minded if had taken yeeeaars before he had to see that.

But he draws the line of having to watch it in their house. Entering the living room and finding them at it again, Davarax kicks at the sofa, making them jump apart. “Tongues in separate mouths when I’m around. Not negotiable.”

Paz flushes deep red. Raga glares.

And Dulsissia wonders who she can match up next...

-

While Dulsissia’s stop on Seswenna had resulted in them having a nice amount of credits to use on their family, Davarax knows they won’t last forever and he’s too used to support his family to stop, so he takes on the occasional job. And it’s easier now than before Dulsissia came into his life.

It’s strange not be be constantly exhausted. It’s even stranger not to have nightmares any more but wake up in the mornings with a sigh of satisfaction or even a smile on his face.

His favourite jobs are the ones where Dulsissia joins him. She’s come far from the helpless beauty he’d met what feels like a lifetime ago. Now she’s a deadly beauty. And the sight of her in Mandalorian armor is the best bonus he’s ever gotten on a job.

This is an easy contract. Just head up to a damaged cargo ship floating just above the planet, pick up the shipment and bring it to the owner on the surface. It’s the rumours of pirates in the area that makes them want to hire a couple of Mandalorians.

The ship is where it’s supposed to be, there are no signs of pirates, and Davarax does the mistake of thinking this mission will go without a hitch. He and Dulsissia board the ship and walk towards the cargo hold to secure their target.

It is years of experience combined with quick reflexes that saves Davarax’ life when something drops from the ceiling in the hallway. He jolts backwards and sparks fly as something sharp slides across his breastplate. Davarax tries to lift his blaster to fire at his attacker, but a boot kicks his arm and the shot goes wide.

It becomes a wild dance of attacks launched at him, sparks flying again and again when his armor takes the brunt, and he frantically back-pedals to stay alive. A streak of yellow spins in front of him and Davarax gets his arm up just in time for the vibro blade to impale it instead of his throat. The pain rages through him and instinct makes Davarax turn to the best weapon he has in such a close encounter; a harsh kov’nyn.

His opponent collapses while he stumbles backwards and clutches his arm. The blade is still vibrating and sending waves of agony through him while tearing more of his flesh. He yanks it out, fighting back the intense urge to scream with pain, unable to respond right away despite hearing Dulsissia calling out his name in fear.

Once his eyes clears again, Davarax realizes Dulsissia is by his side and trying to make him let her look at his arm and he sees the crumpled shape on the floor.

A skinny Twi’lek youth around Raga’s age. Her skin under layers of dirt looks to be pale yellow, her clothes are rags and even unconscious she looks angry.

Well, that was unexpected.

“She’s just a kid.” Dulsissia whispers with quiet disbelief, wrapping his arm.

“I was too busy trying to keep her from cutting my throat to notice.” Davarax rumbles, twitching slightly when Dulsissia tightens the bandage. His heart softens. “I wonder what her story is...”

Her name is Zev’sonya and she’s anything but friendly. Sure, his own kids have a habit of baring their teeth every once in a while, even at him, but this one? She’s outright hostile and extremely dangerous. And while his kids’ trust in others has been severely damaged, hers is non-existent. Whatever her story might be, she’s not telling them anything beyond her being on her own.

Davarax has absolutely no idea how Dulsissia manages to persuade the girl to come with them.

It takes over a standard week to make her stop trying to kill and rob them. A lot longer for her to actually trust them, especially Davarax.

-

Zev’sonya and Raga end up in a fist-fight two minutes after the initial introduction. Paz watches her with some cautiousness but he’s not unfriendly. Barthor avoids her like the plague. Corin is terrified of her and claims she keeps stealing the blades in the house. (Dulsissia knows he’s right as she keeps retrieving them from the twi’lek’s room.)

The only one she instantly connects with is Din, who seems to share her way of communicating in as few words as possible and have no fear of her scowls.

-

They renew their rent on the house and Davarax recruits Din to help build a couple of sheds and do some repairs on it.

After a scorchingly hot day, emerging from the refresher room, Dulsissia saunters over to the big bed in their room where Davarax is reading something on his datapad. She crawls into the bed and rolls over to face him with a dramatic sigh. “Dav? Cyare?”

“Mmh?” He replies, not looking up from his datapad.

“I’m hungry…”

Davarax lowers the datapad and reaches out to run his hand gently over her hair. “What are you in the mood for?”

“There’s leftovers from dinner...”

She rarely asks him to bring her things because she knows he will stop whatever he’s doing and get it and she doesn’t want to abuse that kindness. But this is a special occasion. After he’s padded out of the room, she slides the medical scanner out of her pocket and places it on his side of the bed.

A few minutes later, Davarax comes back with two plates. “Food for my love. And I brought some sweets for dessert too. Might as well make it a proper meal when we’re dining in bed.” He hands her one of the plates with flourish.

She leans up and gives him a kiss, which he is very pleased to accept, and waits as he circles the bed to get in on his side.

Davarax frowns a little when he sees something in his way, reaches down and picks it up so he can settle in his spot again. “This yours?” He holds it out to her.

Sighing, Dulsissia fails to hold back a smile. “Look at it.”

He studies the device but the numbers on the screen doesn’t make sense to him. Davarax glances over at her again, now a little worried. “A medical scanner? You’re not sick, are you?”

She shakes her head, losing the battle against a bubbling laugh. “No. Look at it, silly.”

Davarax looks again. “I’m looking, but what am I supposed to…” Finally the information on the screen makes sense to him and what it means. His gaze snaps back at her. The plate in his other hand is completely forgotten. “Y-you’re…? Are you…?”

Taking a bite of her food, Dulsissia nods and her cheeks hurt from smiling so much. “I’m pregnant.” It’s almost funny how happy she is with this fact. After Corin was born, the mere thought of having another baby offended Dulsissia after she had come to realize that was the only reason why Macero wanted her. But that was in the past. Things are so very different now.

Davarax nearly drops his plate, only his quick reflexes prevents him from spilling it all over the bed. He cautiously, but as quickly as possible, places his plate on the night-stand so he can hold on to the medical scanner with both hands, reading the information once again. “You… You’re sure?”

“You’re looking at the evidence, mister. I scanned ten minutes ago.” She takes another bite, endlessly amused by the whirlwind of emotions visibly rushing through him. He keeps wobbling back and forth between intense happiness, paralysing fear and blind excitement. It is so painfully sweet to see how much he wants this. “Breathe, baby.” Dulsissia advices.

Davarax gulps down some air, then puts the scanner aside and turns all of his focus on her. “Are… are you okay? Do you need me to do anything? What do I do?”

Laughing a little, even more charmed by him being so uncharacteristically clumsy and helpless, Dulsissia glances over at him. “I thought Mandalorians were experts on children. They didn’t teach you about how this is going to work?”

Davarax hesitates and then he reaches out and touches her hand. “Sort of, but all I care about is what you need me to do. Weapons and flowers, remember?”

Dulsissia feels the usual wave of warmth and adoration when Davarax is his sweet self and she curls her fingers around his. “I remember. And we’ll work this out as well.”

That seems to reassure him and his shoulders relaxes a little. Enough so that she lets go of his hand and goes back to eating. Maybe it is just knowing she’s pregnant again that makes her so hungry, but at least it is a very valid excuse to indulge.

Davarax is silent. Too silent.

After a while, Dulsissia has to laugh again as she realizes what he’s doing. He’s staring at her stomach. “There is nothing noticeable going on there quite yet. It’s too early. You’re going to have to be patient for a while before things get exciting for you.”

Davarax gives a tiny shake of his head. “This is already one of the most exciting things I’ve ever been a part of.” He looks like he’s about to say something more but loses courage.

“What?” Dulsissia asks, taking another bite of her food.

“Can I…?” He lifts his hand a little in a mute request.

Stars above, she loves this man more than she thought was possible. Dulsissia lets out a soft laugh. “There’s nothing much to feel right now, like I said, but… if you want to, go ahead.”

Davarax inches closer, reaches out further and cautiously places his hand on her stomach, below her bellybutton. His hand is warm and so very careful and lingers there for a while. “Hey, you…” Davarax eventually says in a quiet voice, a little strained with emotion. “Welcome to the family.”

Dulsissia doesn’t make a sound as the first tears trail from her eyes, overwhelmed by how right this feels, how much she loves him and their unborn child and their beautiful family. This time, she knows, this time everything will be perfect.

-

When Dulsissia tells him, Corin is incredibly excited to become a big brother. Paz declares he’s mighty pleased their clan is growing, sounding like the adult he now looks like despite still not having enough years on his back to deserve that title in Dulsissia’s eyes, and the other Mandalorian youngsters eagerly agree with him. Davarax looks a little awkward when they start talking about how they can create a Covert of their own at the pace their clan is growing.

Half an eternity later, when the evening comes where she feels the first barely noticeable change, Dulsissia calls Davarax over and slides his hand over her stomach. She feels him shiver and he looks at her with breathless awe. She has to laugh and then kisses that look off his face.

A little over six standard weeks after that, Davarax feels the first curving before she notices herself, on a sleepy morning when he, as usual, runs his hand over her stomach.

Corin and the other boys hover near her with innocent curiosity and watch the development with bright fascination, while Raga and Zev’sonya stay a little more in the back and observe with cautious interest.

When Dulsissia really starts showing, that is the point where Davarax’ self-control starts slipping. He has tried his hardest to act normal, yet now he becomes downright clingy. Others might have gotten a bit annoyed with the man’s behaviour, but Dulsissia knows the sadness of going through this with someone who doesn’t care, who can’t even bother to be there, so she happily suffers through his tactile presence.

Dulsissia even has to hide tears one evening when he inches close, runs his hand over her stomach yet again and softly hums a Mandalorian lullaby to their restless child.

Then she gets even bigger and Dulsissia realizes she’d forgotten this part. She gets grouchy, her feet aches, her back aches, everything aches, she has to pee all the time, she can barely get up if she does the mistake of sitting down, she can’t sleep like she wants to, and Dulsissia decides the thought of delivering the child isn’t all that bad if she can just get back to normal, please!

It is all worth it when the time comes after seven hours of hard work and sweet, sweet pain killers, and Dulsissia gets to meet her daughter as she’s placed in her arms.

She is absolutely beautiful and perfect in every way and so very, very loved!

Looking up at Davarax by her side, Dulsissia is both crying and laughing at once. “Isn’t she beautiful?”

Davarax, pale as a sheet, nods with a look of awe on his face.

Allowing herself another moment of holding their child, admiring her, kissing her, Dulsissia makes herself look up at Davarax again. “You want to hold her?”

To her surprise, he hesitates and looks like he’s about to take a step away. Catching himself, Davarax remains where he is and tries to remember how to speak. “I… Are you sure?”

Laughing a little, Dulsissia is far too exhausted to untangle the mystery of his mind at the moment. “Of course I’m sure. She’s your daughter too.”

“It’s just…” Davarax reaches out a cautious hand only to withdraw it before he can actually touch the wailing baby. “I don’t know how. I mean, I don’t want to hurt her. I-I’ve never held a baby before. She’s so tiny, Dulcy.”

“She’s tougher than you think.” Dulsissia replies, then turns a little to make it easier for him to pick up the baby. “Support her head, careful with the neck, like that, yeah… Perfect.” She leans back, exhausted and strangely enough a bit hungry, but for the time being she is satisfied to just take in the sight of her husband and their child connecting.

“Hello, ik’aad.” Davarax looks nervous, awkward and absolutely devastated by the intense adoration he feels for the still screaming bundle in his arms. The baby really do look tiny in his embrace, fragile even, but that doesn’t prevent her from aimlessly raising her tiny fist in what looks to be a threat.

Mandokarla from the birth.

Dulsissia sees how tears well up in Davarax’ eyes and he leans down to place a feather-light kiss on the baby’s head.

-

Corin is staring wide-eyed at the baby and eagerly reaches out when his mother eases her over into his arms.

“Say hello to your new sister.” Dulsissia says in a quiet voice, hoping not to wake the sleeping baby.

Din hovers over Corin’s right shoulder and reaches out to ever so gently run his fingers over the dark tufts of hair on her head. “She’s cute.”

“So tiny…” Paz observes, hovering over Corin’s left shoulder, sounding a bit worried.

“She’ll get bigger, idiot.” Barthor mutters, tilting his helmet as he studies the baby too.

“Are… are you okay?” Raga asks Dulsissia while the boys block the view to the new arrival.

Smiling, reaching out a hand and curling her fingers around Raga’s when she takes it, Dulsissia gives her a reassuring nod. “I’m fine, baby. Corin gave me a lot more trouble than this one.”

Corin blinks and looks up to focus on her for a moment. “I did?”

Dulsissia nods. “Yeah, you were not inclined to come out to greet the world. It took over two days to persuade you.”

“Two days?” Raga blurts out, with no small amount of horror.

“It sounds worse than it was.” Dulsissia reassures her. “Without the pain meds I’m sure it would have been a nightmare, but with them, it’s mostly just uncomfortable and boring.”

“Two days and you still decided to have another child?” Davarax asks from where he is hovering in the background.

“Well, yeah.” Dulsissia shrugs. The amount of joy her son has given her was well worth it. And without him she would never have broken free from her golden cage, so, no, she had not hesitated to do it all over again. Her daughter is already worth it too. “Zev. Baby. Come say hello. Don’t just hide over there.” She waves the Twi’lek over and fails to see everyone there stare at her with the kind of awe saved for the most impressive of Mandalorian warriors.

They call the baby Nemi.

[caycanteven]

@mothiepixie drug me right into another one and I fuckin' love pirates man...and I didn't even fight it lmfao. Enjoy this fun drabble I wrote up~ Fair warning, I just wrote this for fun; no idea how accurate appearances or any of the like are and I came up with "The Black Fiend" myself cause ships have cool names teehee.

The storm raged outside, but among the drunkard squabble and unrelenting retelling of stories on the seven seas, it was a hushed whisper.

This tavern wasn’t a first for her, but it was definitely one she came to seldom enough. Company wasn’t something she avoided like the plague, but she preferred to be alone when she drank her spirits. Cheers to the tavern mates who were Three Sheets to the Wind, but she wasn’t them.

She learned the hard way what it meant to take her eyes off her surroundings and get too comfortable.

She paid the price.

A minor price, but a price, one that wasn’t paid in silver.

She lifted her tankard to her lips, downing a swig of the rum within. With a lazy brush of her arm, she wiped her mouth of leftover sprits and breathed deep. It burned, but it felt so good. It always felt good.

Out of the corner of her left eye and beneath her hat, she noticed a body place themselves on the stool beside her. She grunted under her breath. Out of all the places in this damn tavern, they chose there to place their ass?

She stilled a moment before drinking once more from her tankard, her brow raised with sudden curiosity and surprise.

A lass? It was unlikely, but who would wear such robes like that around if they weren’t…though even she knew better than to judge first sight. After all, she hid well beneath her own rags just to make’er livin’ on the sea under the interpretation she was male.

Or used to.

She set her tankard down slowly in order not to draw attention to herself. She eyed the company sitting on her left thoroughly. They hadn’t requested anything, though perhaps they were already drunk. She could make out a tuff of orange below their own hat, hair no less. A rather beautiful color, like the embers on hot coals. So perhaps they too, understood the importance of hiding their appearance?

It was all too…odd. She snorted and she returned her attention to her drink. She didn’t need to bother her still sober thoughts with that of a random—

“Ye come ‘round here plenty?”

She stopped twirling her tankard, her lips just barely touching the lip of the cup. She hadn’t expected the body to speak. Why would they? She squinted her eye and she slowly put down her tankard with a heavy thud. She leaned against the counter, elbows pressed against cracked wood.

“Aye,” she muttered and she kept her eyes forward.

“Got a name?”

She glanced over, finally seeing the face of the company beside her. Feminine features, as expected, though their face was peppered in freckles and markings; their eyes were as crystal blue as the sea itself. She had to admit, they were a beauty.

“Aye.”

They seemed to be patiently waiting for more, but when she didn’t reply, they pressed further. “Gonna share it?”

“Lass, don’ ye think that’s a bit far for someone ye neva met?” She tilted her head as she turned to acknowledge them, brow raised in question.

“Isn’t that how you greet someone properly?”

Something about them was different from those she met before, behest unwillingly. Their dialect, their posture and their words…

“Ye ain’t from ‘round here, are ya lass?” She spoke with a chuckle laced in her words. They seemed naive, ignorant—perhaps she could indulge in their conversation.

The blue-eyed beauty huffed and looked away for a moment. “Ye can say that.”

She hummed softly with consideration, before taking a quick swig then placing her tankard back down again, half empty. “Ye trade me yer name, I trade he mine, is that fair lass?”

She watched them process her bargain before nodding once.

“Aye. Motti.”

Motti? Interesting, she thought as she looked this Motti up and down. Holstered to their front was a flintlock no doubt, but it was in poor shape. It made her skin crawl but she resisted the temptation to question its condition. The rest of Motti physically looked healthy, disregarding the cuts and bruises healing on her rather gentle skin.

She snorted softly before turning her body more so to face them, smiling ever so slightly, the corners of her lips curled in a smirk.

“Lexico, pleasure to make ye acquaintance. Ye call me Lex, fer short,” she hummed with a nod. Lex watched the expression on Motti’s face brighten with surprise. So she had not anticipated Lex being a woman perhaps?

“I wasn’t sure—“

“Ye’d find another like ye? Aye, don’ really. Not like how yer doin’…” Lex grunted as she swirled her tankard. She chuckled at the bewildered look on her companion’s face. She chuckled and she shook her head. “Ye don’t worry your pretty head ‘bout it. Yer still standin’, so ye good enough to believe yer well off.”

“I suppose yer right,” Motti nodded and turned to face the bar’s surface. “So Lex,” she continued after a moment, “ye happen to know anything about a captain of a ship…named Nightmare by any—“

It had happened far too quickly; a glint of metal in the tavern light, and before a Motti could register, a blade was held at a threatening point.

“Lass, ye be sure to swallow yer words,” Lex warned lowly, but there was tension in her voice. “Ye don’t speak so easily of the Black Fiend ‘round this port.”

Mottie swallowed, though gently placed the tip of her finger against the blade and pushed it away.

Lex narrowed her gaze, then slowly put her knife in her belt. “Ye brave, I’ll say that.”

“Please, Lex…” Motti pleaded quietly, moving closer to speak under breath. “I need to find him.*

Lex hissed softly as she hid her disapproval behind her drink.

She had almost finished it off before she returned a cold but curios gaze to Motti. Her eyes looked the lass over with scrutiny, but eventually relaxed slightly. “Why are ye doin’ that, lass,” Lex muttered and gave her a softer look. “The Black Fiend doesn’t sit still long enough to bring attention ‘bout. The captain more so,” she muttered, but hesitated when there was evident disappointment in her company’s face. “Royal fleet’s been chasin’ him for a long time.”

“Ye wouldn’t understand,” Motti huffed and grumbled curses under her breath, eliciting a chuckle from beside her. “I need to find him. He…”

Lex watched as the blue-eyed lass—no doubt a young pirate herself—beamed at the mention of the captain of a The Black Fiend. Lex knew that look, the glittering behind the eyes.

Lex nearly spit out her rum.

“Ye can’t be serious.”

Motti looked up quickly, the feather of her hat dancing and bobbing. She nodded once, yet hesitantly. “Yes. He’s a lost lover, to say less,” Motti huffed. “I’ve been searching for so long, but only now have I got something to run on.”

Lex nodded slowly, resisting the urge to question how that—the two of them—happened. Once Motti finished their quiet exchange, Lex sighed and pushed her empty tankard away.

“I need a crew for my ship.”

“So ye chose a tavern full of drunkards to look?”

Motti shrugged. “Easier to get them to say yes.”

Lex couldn’t stop herself from actually laughing the more she listened. “Aye, ye keep that tid bit about The Black Fiend to yerself and ye might have it in yer favor.” She sighed, though seeing as Motti was frowning and her eyes were focused on the bar top, Lex couldn’t help feel for her.

She knew what it was like to lose a lover.

She sighed, knowing she’d regret this if this didn’t go to plan. Though, it had been forever since she had a crew to call her own, a ship…a chance to sail those waters again. “Ye chose the right person to ask first,” Lex grunted and she tossed a couple shillings on the bar.

Motti beamed again in surprise and hope. “Ye considerin?”

“Aye. Ye need someone who can handle weaponry,” Lex nodded and gave Motti a smug grin. “I got all ye need to know about it. Not to mention, I got a good shot.”

Motti seemed to be in disbelief. Lex witnessed her eye move slightly to her right, obviously staring at an injury long scarred. “Ye sure?”

Lex chuckled. “Aye…” she smiled and she held out her hand.

“Don’t need two eyes to shoot a man dead. Now how bout ye let me take a look at that ol’ flintlock?”

[wildinvite]

*STAR WARS SLANG.

Below the cut is 130 PHRASES & SLANG TERMS from the STAR WARS universe! Please like or reblog if you found this useful!

A -

Ada: An affectionate term for father used on Tangenine.

Alert all commands: This was an order used on Imperial starships as a general alert.

Ama: An affectionate term for mother used on Tangenine.

B -

Bantha fodder: The equivalent of "worthless"; a person or thing deemed to have no value beyond something for a bantha to graze on.

Blast!: This was an interjection of frustration.

Bombad: This was a superlative used by Gungans.

Bucket: This was a term for a stormtrooper helmet.

Bucketbrain: Alternate name for stormtroopers thought up by Ezra Bridger.

Buckethead: This referenced the buckets worn by stormtroopers and was used as an insult. Certain members of the Lothal rebels were fond of using the term.

Bug: Geonosian.

Burnout: A term to refer to a First Order Flametrooper by Resistance fighters.

By the Z'gag!: An exclamation of surprise used by Ruurians.

C -

Caraya's soul: A verbalization for disbelief.

Chobb's knob!: An exclamation of surprise used by Bith.

Choobies: A slang term for one's self or one's testicles.

Chuba!: A Huttese term for "You!" or "Hey you!"

Clanker: Clone troopers sometimes used this term to describe CIS battle droids in reference to the clanking sound they made while marching.

D -

Damaged goods: Someone who has an unresolved conflict of emotions after a traumatic event, and is no longer deemed to be fit for purpose.

Damn: This expletive was sometimes used to express anger or frustration. It could also be used as a positive modifier, e.g., "Damn good."

Deuce: See Impstar-deuce.

Dirtball: A dismissive term for a planet one did not like or felt was beneath them.

Droid Poppers: Clone troopers sometimes referred to EMP grenades using this slang term.

Dupe: A TIE fighter pilot slang term for a TIE/a bomber.

E -

E chu ta: A term spoken to C-3PO by E-3PO on Cloud City to which he replies, "How rude."

Emperor's snowmen: Alternate name for stormtroopers thought up by Ezra Bridger.

F -

Fangs out: A TIE fighter pilot idiom meaning "eager for a dogfight."

Flyboy: This was a slang term for a hot-shot pilot, such as Han Solo or Poe Dameron.

Find the head of the dragon: A phrase that Leia Organa used to refer to locating the source of the First Order.

G -

Going Base Delta Zero: Imperial officer slang for "going off" or "getting really angry”, referential of the term Base Delta Zero.

Goldenrod: A gold-plated protocol droid, used by Han Solo to refer to C-3PO during the Battle of Hoth, and the assault on Cymoon 1.

Goo: A planet's atmosphere, in TIE fighter pilot slang.

Ground-hog: A TIE fighter pilot who flies "in the blue" for the Imperial Army.

Geo: Clone trooper slang for Geonosians.

H -

Harpy: A derogatory term for a female individual. Ahsoka Tano once called Asajj Ventress a "hairless harpy."

Having kittens by the litter: This was a slang phrase for someone who was seriously worried or panicking.

Heavy weather: This was a term for something that was troublesome or serious.

Hell: Expletive.

Holotank commander: A naval insult.

Hop: A mission, in TIE fighter pilot slang.

Hothead: A term to refer to a First Order Flametrooper by Resistance fighters.

I -

Imp: Slang term for "Imperial."

Impstar: TIE pilot slang term for an Imperial Star Destroyer.

Impstar-deuce: A slang term for an Imperial II-class Star Destroyer.

In Malachor: This term used to express that one felt emphatically about something; i.e. "There is no way in Malachor that I'm going to lead this pitiful squad."

In the black: TIE pilot expression meaning "operating in space."

In the blue: TIE pilot expression meaning "operating in planetary atmosphere.”

In the name of…!: This could be used as an exclamation in terms of shock.

J -

Jedi Scum/Slime: This was sometimes employed as an insult against Jedi.

K -

Karabast: A Lasat exclamation of frustration. Garazeb Orrelios was fond of using this exclamation.

Kriffing: This was an expletive. When Beck Ollet described a referee as being "crooked as a kriffing Hutt," he was ordered off the grav-ball field with the threat of suspension otherwise.

Kung: This was Huttese for "scum," i.e. "U kulle rah doe kankee kung," meaning "You are my kind of scum."

L -

Laserbrain: Leia Organa once employed this as an insult towards Han Solo, stating "I don't know where you get your delusions, laserbrain."

Leatherneck: An insult once used by a stormtrooper commander towards Jho the Ithorian.

"Loth-cat got your tongue?": This was an expression mocking someone for not having anything to say.

M -

May spice salt your wounds!: A Twi'lek insult. This was indicated by pulling one's lekku firmly behind the head, with the tips jabbed into the speaker's back.

Moof-milker: A term for a dimwitted individual.

Mother of Kwath!: This was an exclamation of aggravation.

Mother of Moons: This was used as an expression of surprise.

N -

A needle in a haystack: This was a phrase for something that was very difficult to find because it was something unique buried within a load of things that were similar or the same.

Nerfherder: An insult once used by Princess Leia Organa. It referred to the animal by the same name.

Nerve Burner: This insult suggested one was unstable.

Not the brightest lightsaber in the galaxy: Unintelligent.

Not giving two bantha ticks (about something): To not care in the slightest (about something or someone).

O -

Outlander: This term was used to address someone from a different planet.

P -

Peedunky: This Huttese insult was roughly equivalent to "punk.”

Pig: This derogatory term was used to describe a slovenly individual.

Piston-head: This derogatory phrase was sometimes used to describe IG-86 sentinel droids.

Plan B: This term was used by both pilots and Jedi and referred to a backup plan. When Obi-Wan Kenobi and Anakin Skywalker were caught in a ray shield trap on the Invisible Hand, Kenobi asked Skywalker if he had a Plan B.

Plasteel pig: Alternate name for stormtroopers thought up by Ezra Bridger.

Poodoo: A Huttese term meaning "fodder," a coarse type of food for livestock. Used often as a swear word.

Pfassk: An adaptable expletive, as in "What the pfassk does sorry do for anyone?"

R -

Reb: Imperial slang term for members of the Rebel Alliance.

Reg: Slang for a regular clone trooper, as used by members of Clone Force 99.

R'iia's shorts!: An expression on Jakku that denoted wonder or awe.

Roaster: A term to refer to a First Order Flametrooper by Resistance fighters.

Rock: This term was used to refer to a planet. It could be insulting; Luke Skywalker once used the term derogatorily, referring to Tatooine as a "rock."

Rollies: Clone trooper slang for droidekas.

Rust bucket: Derogatory term for a battered droid.

S -

Scruffy-looking: This insult regarding one's appearance was once used by Leia Organa against Han Solo.

Scum: This general-purpose insult referred to anyone considered undesirable.

Scuttlebutt: Talk or stories about someone that may not be true; gossip.

Seps: Slang term for Separatists, in use during the time of the Galactic Empire.

Shiraya's word!: An expression used to express shock or surprise on Naboo.

A sight for malfunctioning optics: A droid way of saying that one is pleased to see someone.

Shut me down!: An exclamation of surprise used by droids like C-3PO.

Sitrep: TIE pilot slang term for "situation report."

Sitting mynock: An open target that can easily picked off.

Skug: A common Zygerrian insult.

Skull: A Z-95 Headhunter, in TIE pilot slang.

Sleemo: This Huttese insult was pronounced slay-mo and translated as "slimeball," a rude insult.

Sod it: This was an expression of frustration.

Son of a bantha: This insult was once directed at Han Solo by Sana Starros.

Sorcerer: Admiral Conan Antonio Motti once referred to Darth Vader using this term in reference to his Force abilities, telling him not to try to frighten him and the others on the Death Star with his "sorcerer's ways."

Spaced: This was a slang phrase amongst travellers of the galaxy meaning "dead" or "killed." A common saying in the early days of the Galactic Empire was that it was "Better to be spaced than based on Belderone."

Spacer: This was slang referring someone who spent a large part of their life in space.

Spice: A type of dangerous narcotic mined in the Spice mines of Kessel. Wookiees died en masse as slaves of the Galactic Empire mining this drug.

Splash: To shoot down, in TIE pilot slang.

Stang: This slang term of frustration was once employed by Beck Ollet during a grav-ball match in reference to the opposing team's wing striker.

Stars!: A general-purpose exclamation that could be used to express either frustration or excitement.

Stars' end!: An expression of disbelieving delight.

Stifftroopers stormbloopers: Alternate name for stormtroopers thought up by Ezra Bridger.

Stitched: TIE fighter slang term from "hit by enemy fire."

Stuck up: This term was used to describe someone with a conceited or arrogant attitude.

Suicide sled: A starfighter with weak shields or no shields at all, in TIE pilot slang.

Sun bonnet: This was a slang term that referred to clone trooper helmets.

Svaper: Frid Kelio once referred to the athletic director Janus Fhurek as a "dirty svaper."

Switch off!: This droid exclamation was the equivalent of "shut up!”

T -

Tailhead: This was a derogatory slang term referring to members of the Twi'lek race.

Target practice:Alternate name for stormtroopers thought up by Ezra Bridger.

Thank the Maker!: C-3PO often used this phrase to express relief, similar to how a sentient being might thank a deity.

Too many admirals, not enough ensigns: A saying used to claim that too many people want to be the leader, and not enough people are willing to follow to do the detail work.

Tweezer: This was used a slang referring to the BX-series droid commando.

U -

Utinni: This was an exclamation made by various Jawas that was roughly the equivalent of "come here!"

V -

Vac-head: A TIE fighter pilot who flies "in the black" for the Imperial Navy.

Victory kid: One of hundreds of millions or billions of children born after the fall of the Galactic Empire.

W -

Walking carpet: Leia Organa once applied this insulting term to Chewbacca in reference to his shaggy coat of fur.

Wastoid: A derogatory term.

Wet dog: Luke Skywalker once used this term to describe the scent of the planet Kupoh.

What in the blazes…: This expression was used to express shock or surprise.

What in the universe...: Same as above.

What the…: This general purpose expression was in use throughout the galaxy.

What the Sith…: This was a general purpose exclamation used by the Alderaanian Jora Astane.

Who in the name of the Great Prairie Winds…: This interrogative was used by a shopkeeper when Merei Spanjaf told him she was sent by Bandis Yong.

Wild bantha chase: A wild bantha chase was a futile errand, one which might be a distraction to important business.

Witch: This was a derogatory term for a female, but could also be applied to one who cast actual magick.

Wizard: A term expressed to describe a person who has accomplished something extraordinary or unnatural. The term can elicit either excitement (Ex: Kitster Banai when speaking of young Anakin Skywalker), or trepidation (Ex: Garazeb Orrelios, when speaking of Ezra Bridger). Owen Lars also once used this as a derogatory term towards Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi when speaking with his nephew, Luke Skywalker.

Wrench-jockey: A term used for a repair droid.

Y -

You can't fix stupid: This was a saying Jessa Spanjaf used regarding poor data protection and security practices that she attributed to herself.

Youngling: This was another term for "child," often used by the Jedi.

Z -

Zero angle: A TIE fighter pilot term for the position behind an enemy's stern.

[jakeh0wl]

Star Wars Short Fiction - Week IV - A New Hope

“…We will then crush the Rebellion with one swift stroke.”

The Imperial officers gathered at the table nodded their agreement, murmuring declarations of concurrence. Even the arrogant Admiral Motti, seated to Tarkin’s right and still recovering from Vader’s choking display of power, dipped his head towards the Grand Moff.

Tarkin stood, eyeing the officers. “You may leave us,” he said, sweeping his hand towards the seated men. “I would speak with Lord Vader alone.”

The officers rose from their seats, each giving Tarkin respectful half-bows before filing from the room, several of them shuffling nervously beneath Vader’s black, eyeless gaze. Once he and Vader were alone, Tarkin waved to the Death Star Troopers flanking the entrance to the conference room, who sealed closed the doors.

Tarkin straightened, hands clasped behind his back, then turned to Lord Vader. As always, the six-foot, black-clad cyborg regarded Tarkin with that unreadable jet mask of a face, the eyes shimmering a dark red when the light caught them. The identity of who hid behind that visage was something Tarkin had guessed at, and was now fairly certain of.

Still, the regard of the Emperor’s Force-wielding pet remained unsettling, even after all these years. “You have still had no luck with the princess, Lord Vader,” Tarkin said. It was a statement, not a question.

“No,” Vader replied in a deep, dread-inducing voice. As always, Vader said little when he could help it, preferring to unbalance those he was addressing with the mere power of his presence.

Tarkin, however, was not so easily shaken. Whilst Vader still left Tarkin with a sense of unease, the Grand Moff had built an impressive immunity to Vader’s influence. This, coupled with Tarkin’s favour with the Emperor, guaranteed a certain level of mutuality between them. “Despite your assurances that we will soon have the Death Star plans returned to us,” Tarkin continued, “I remain uncertain of the probable success of your interrogation methods.”

“The princess has a fierce will,” Vader replied. “She bears an unexpected degree of resilience.”

“She’s the daughter of a politician,” Tarkin said, pacing across the reflective black floor of the conference room. “Such things are understandable from one of her upbringing.”

“We will retrieve those plans,” Vader said, watching Tarkin from across the room.

“Can you be sure, Vader?” Tarkin said, meeting the man’s – the machine’s – masked gaze.

Vader didn’t respond.

“I thought not,” He shook his head, running a hand through his thinning hair. A thought occurred to him then. “Whilst I cannot say I approve of you choking my officers, Lord Vader, and despite my lack of knowledge in the details of your powers, there is no denying that you are in possession of certain unique… assets. Assets that, concerning our present situation, could prove very useful indeed.”

“Dispense with the ambiguity, Governor,” Vader demanded. “You would have me refer to methods of interrogation utilising the Force?”

Tarkin raised an eyebrow. Something in Vader’s tone suggested he had already considered – or perhaps even tried – using the Force to manipulate the princess. “Could such a thing be done?”

“The Force is not a torture machine, Governor,” Vader growled. “To perceive it as such is to lay bare a gross ignorance of its nature.”

Tarkin mentally scoffed. It seemed that the Emperor’s most feared and deadliest servant was not above the occasional thinly veiled insult. There was something about that revelation that Tarkin found surprisingly amusing. “Very well,” Tarkin replied. “I have outlined a proposal of how to deal with this rebel problem of ours which I intend to present to the Emperor momentarily. He is awaiting my transmission. Would you care to join me, Lord Vader? I believe this proposal will be of interest to you as much as it will be to the Emperor.”

Vader said nothing, simply gazing across the circular table at Tarkin with those eyeless, black visors. Then he nodded, striding across the room to stand at Tarkin’s side, cape rippling slightly as he moved. Despite their occasional differences, Tarkin’s respect for Vader was rivalled by no other. Everything that Vader was emulated power and authority, and there were oft times when Tarkin found himself envious of the pure fear Vader struck into those beneath him.

Tarkin leaned forward, sliding back the black panel of the activation key for the holographic projector. Pressing the key, Tarkin took a step back as a great, shimmering projection of Emperor Sheev Palpatine, supreme ruler of the Galactic Empire, took shape above the table.

Tarkin gave a sweeping bow. “Your Imperial Majesty,” he said.

Vader went one further, falling to a knee. “My Master.”

Not the first time, Vader’s unwavering loyalty and devotion to the Emperor reminded Tarkin of a muzzled akk hound. The most ferocious akk hound in the Galaxy, one who made entire systems tremble when the Emperor saw fit to let him off the leash.

The Emperor’s holographic eyes, shadowed beneath his ever-present hood, shifted between the forms of Tarkin and Vader. “Governor Tarkin, Lord Vader,” the Emperor addressed them. “You hinted at a proposal you had for me, Governor?”

“I did, my lord,” Tarkin replied, straightening in the Emperor’s presence. “It would appear that we are faced with a dilemma of a rather urgent nature. Despite Lord Vader’s best efforts, the troublesome Princess Leia has yet to inform us of either the location of the rebel’s hidden base or where the data tapes containing the plans for this space station are. Now, considering recent development concerning the Imperial Senate and the state of the Imperial Systems, I believe, my Lord, the time has come for more aggressive negotiations.”

“Speak on, Governor Tarkin,” the Emperor drawled.

Tarkin glanced at Vader, the black-clad cyborg expressionless as ever. “There exists a way to ensure the princess’s cooperation. Namely, her revelation of the rebel’s hidden base. We have yet to exercise the full destructive potential of this space station, and now we have been presented with the perfect opportunity, my Lord.” Tarkin reached down, activating a second hologram above the table. The form of the Emperor slid back to give way for the blue-green projection of a planet that now hovered before them, between Tarkin and the Emperor. “Alderaan, my Lord. The Princess’s home planet. It is a world of beauty and peace. The Alderaanians bear no love of weapons and claim passiveness. However, our intel holds that this traitorous planet was a core breeding ground for the Rebellion, offering the rebels both a hidden base of operations and support in the Imperial Senate. Now that the Imperial Senate is no longer an obstacle, I propose we test the true power of this space station’s superlaser. Jedha and Scarif were but… inklings of the Death Star’s capabilities, my Lord. Alderaan will provide the perfect test target to experience the obliteration that this station is prepared to unleash on the Galaxy. With Alderaan held as an example, no System would dare oppose you, my Lord, nor give the rebels any further support.”

The Emperor studied the holographic projection of Alderaan. “Wisely spoken, my friend,” the Emperor said. “I approve. As does, I sense, Lord Vader. However, what is to become of the princess and the rebels?”

Tarkin clasped his hands behind his back. “Herein lies the final stroke, my Lord. We will suspend the destruction of Alderaan before Princess Leia as a threat. With the Senate’s recent dissolution, the princess’s father, Bail Organa, will soon be returning to Alderaan. I believe it wise for us to wait until we have confirmation of his return before we initiate the test of the Death Star. Then, faced with not only the annihilation of her home planet, but the loss of her family, I believe the princess will be quite willing to give up her rebel friends. Alderaan will still be destroyed, of course. Then, once we have the location of the rebel base and Alderaan is but dust between the stars, the princess will be deposed of most adequately.”

“Excellent, Tarkin, excellent,” the Emperor said, cackling. “Have the princess brought to me on Coruscant once Alderaan and the rebels have been destroyed. We will make her execution most public.” The Emperor’s holographic shadow shifted towards Vader. “Lord Vader, I believe you may be of some use in that respect. I would have you execute the princess personally.”

Vader bowed. “As you wish, my Master.”

The Emperor turned back to Tarkin. “You’ve done well, Governor. I am most pleased.”

Tarkin felt a rare smile tugging at his lips. “I will have an order for the princess’s execution written up, my Lord.”

“Good. I will await news of Alderaan’s… eradication.” The Emperor’s figure blurred, then faded, the projection fuzzing out.

Tarkin subsequently disabled the hologram of Alderaan.

“You have garnered the Emperor’s approval,” Vader said.

“As I have yours, apparently,” Tarkin replied, turning to face him.

Vader pointedly ignored the statement. “Despite the advantageous effects its destruction offers, Alderaan will certainly be a loss to the Galaxy.”

Tarkin nodded. “A necessary one, however.”

Vader made for the doors of the conference room. “Perhaps if events in the last weeks had transpired differently, it would not be so.”

Tarkin sensed the implication. “It was not I who lost the data tapes to the rebels above Scarif, my friend,” he said, raising an eyebrow. “From your troopers’ reports, you practically had the plans within your grasp. Had you not been distracted by certain… unnecessary thrills, those plans would now be in our hands.”

Vader turned back to face him. “The rebels were far more prepared for our pursuit than anticipated,” he replied. “And perhaps if you had turned the Death Star’s weapon on the rebel fleet instead of firing on the planet, their escape would have been impossible.”

Tarkin smirked. “You saw what the Death Star did to Scarif,” he said. “There was no guarantee our own forces would not be decimated in the process. Including your own.”

Vader took a step forward, towering over Tarkin and raising one gloved hand towards him. “Galen Urso’s daughter was on Scarif, Governor, as was Director Krennic. Your frequent bouts of rivalry with the Director were well documented. So do not speak of unnecessary thrills to me, Tarkin.”

Tarkin swallowed, holding his composure. Likely only his imagination, but it had seemed for a moment that the softest touch of pressure had brushed his throat. He stepped back, carefully forcing an amiable smile across his lips. “Perhaps, my friend, it is best if we simply agree that the loss of the plans at Scarif was an unfortunate misstep on both our counts,” he said.

Vader studied him for several quiet seconds, then straightened. “Indeed,” he said eventually.

Tarkin moved made for the exit, the doors to the hallway beyond hissing open at his touch to the entrance panel. Vader strode past him, the Death Star Troopers standing outside the conference room wincing slightly at his shadow.

“I will set our coordinates for Alderaan. If you would be so kind as to retrieve the princess, Lord Vader,” Tarkin said, “I will have her execution order procured.”

Vader gave the slightest, towering nod, then turned away.

Tarkin watched, eyes narrowed to slits, as Vader walked down the hallway, black cape billowing with his stride. Tarkin would need to tread careful on this ice, fearsome things waited beneath.

Turning away from the conference room, Tarkin made for the command bridge.

[scapingguide-blog]

Landscape Professionals

Tree Trimming, Removal, Care, Maintenance, Stump Removal and Grinding, Cleaning, Ornamental Pruning, Topping, Property Maintenance, Palm Skinning, Felling, Shrub Pruning, One-Stop Services, Mulch, Planting, Firewood & Health

Hamm's Tree Service is a circle of relatives-owned and operated, fully insured and authorised company in San Bernardino. The business is considered one of San Bernardino Tree Service's most professional presenting full tree care services for residential and industrial employment. The contractors are fully insured, and you are confident to be thrilled with their tree job. They offer loose hazard evaluation and free estimates. They can do whatever from maintenance to emergency service with over 9 years of experience. Senior & veteran reductions are to be had. With any questions you might have approximately the remedy of your bushes, please feel loose to name them.

Tree Removal, Trimming, Firewood, Year-Round Tree and Shrub Trimming, Free Hazard Assessment, Emergency Service, Stump Removal & Cabling

Conrad and his crew at Del Mar Landscaping are superb. His guys are very respectful and do fantastic work at a honest charge. They made certain they finished the activity in the course of a totally unsure time (Coronavirus pandemic), that is tons favored and additionally made positive they wiped clean up the whole thing when they were finished. Second time I've used them. Highly encouraged.

 My husband and I were wondering for numerous months to get convert our backyard to a drought tolerant landscape. We want to lower our water invoice as a great deal as possible and revamp our yard and get it ready for summer season. We decided to hire Motti due to the fact we felt he gave us the nice presentation of thoughts… Outstanding. Full group Showed up and perfectly trimmed tree. Tree trimmed and cleanup performed in less than 1 hour.

They spoke back directly, scheduled for the equal day, arrived and did a splendid job for the marketed charge. Over all, I'm very satisfied with the paintings they did, and would rent again for tree provider.ive hours/ 2 men...Top notch and quick to reply to my request. This is the third time I've used them. Always expert and polite.

All went nicely. It become a difficult assignment however the crew did an first rate task making sure the whole thing went nicely. They wiped clean up thoroughly.

Fernando is my hero. He labored on reworking our barren, weed-ridden outdoor into the circle of relatives oasis of my goals. He was a delight to work with from his initial go to for a quote to the final touch of the task, about 10-12 days later. He assisted me in selections on the vendors I selected for… study greater

We loved Kerry's tree carrier. We were given three charges to put off a large decaying sycamore from our steep returned hill that was overhanging our downhill buddies' assets. Kerry's changed into by means of far the cheapest at $1,500 (as compared to $2,000 and $three,800). I changed into very happy to study they came in so low, considering Kerry'… study extra

[servicecomp]

Bernardino tree

They specialise in helping customers maximize the fee and beauty of their houses thru the design of elegant residing areas outside. They are Licensed, Bonded & Insured agency that proudly offer all traditional services you could assume from a tree provider employer. Their main intention is to ensure you are completely pleased with the assignment's very last result. Their company can pay cautious attention to the specifics of every assignment to make certain complete purchaser pride. They begin each undertaking by means of presenting in-intensity consultation to understand your priorities and undertaking wishes. Discount Tree Care gives 24-hour emergency carrier.

Tree Trimming, Topping, Pruning, Crown Reduction, Palm Trimming, Lot and Hill Clean Up, Power Stump Grinding, Ivy Topping and Removal & Wood Cutting

  Fernando's Tree Services is a family-owned business with more than 20 years of experience. Their staff is continually on time and uses equipment costing greater than $eighty,000 to make sure that the assignment is executed to finishing touch on every occasion. They utilize a chipper to mulch up all particles and cast off everything from your house. They are professional in relatively effective decorative pruning, trimming, overlaying, scraping, and stump grinding. Contact them to offer a free estimate of cautious and specific Arborist services. The corporation has also been serving Redlands, Fontana, Rialto, Rancho Cucamonga, and all regions inside a radius of 35-Miles.

 Tree Trimming, Removal, Care, Maintenance, Stump Removal and Grinding, Cleaning, Ornamental Pruning, Topping, Property Maintenance, Palm Skinning, Felling, Shrub Pruning, One-Stop Services, Mulch, Planting, Firewood & Health

  Hamm's Tree Service is a circle of relatives-owned and operated, fully insured and authorised company in San Bernardino. The business is considered one of San Bernardino Tree Service's most professional presenting full tree care services for residential and industrial employment. The contractors are fully insured, and you are confident to be thrilled with their tree job. They offer loose hazard evaluation and free estimates. They can do whatever from maintenance to emergency service with over 9 years of experience. Senior & veteran reductions are to be had. With any questions you might have approximately the remedy of your bushes, please feel loose to name them.

 Tree Removal, Trimming, Firewood, Year-Round Tree and Shrub Trimming, Free Hazard Assessment, Emergency Service, Stump Removal & Cabling

 Conrad and his crew at Del Mar Landscaping are superb. His guys are very respectful and do fantastic work at a honest charge. They made certain they finished the activity in the course of a totally unsure time (Coronavirus pandemic), that is tons favored and additionally made positive they wiped clean up the whole thing when they were finished. Second time I've used them. Highly encouraged. My husband and I were wondering for numerous months to get convert our backyard to a drought tolerant landscape. We want to lower our water invoice as a great deal as possible and revamp our yard and get it ready for summer season. We decided to hire Motti due to the fact we felt he gave us the nice presentation of thoughts… Outstanding. Full group Showed up and perfectly trimmed tree. Tree trimmed and cleanup performed in less than 1 hour.

They spoke back directly, scheduled for the equal day, arrived and did a splendid job for the marketed charge. Over all, I'm very satisfied with the paintings they did, and would rent again for tree provider.

2.Five hours/ 2 men...Top notch and quick to reply to my request. This is the third time I've used them. Always expert and polite.

All went nicely. It become a difficult assignment however the crew did an first rate task making sure the whole thing went nicely. They wiped clean up thoroughly.

Fernando is my hero. He labored on reworking our barren, weed-ridden outdoor into the circle of relatives oasis of my goals. He was a delight to work with from his initial go to for a quote to the final touch of the task, about 10-12 days later. He assisted me in selections on the vendors I selected for… study greater

We loved Kerry's tree carrier. We were given three charges to put off a large decaying sycamore from our steep returned hill that was overhanging our downhill buddies' assets. Kerry's changed into by means of far the cheapest at $1,500 (as compared to $2,000 and $three,800). I changed into very happy to study they came in so low, considering Kerry'… study extra