#or some other ship hit me with the steel chair LOL

[seiya-starsniper]

Every time I see your avatar (the new promo pic of dream) I think “that’s omega dream being all glammed up to be sold off to the highest bidder by his parents” and I can’t help but obsess over it 🙈

oijsfidfjsfisfjiodf CONGRATS ANON I HAVE A NEW WIP 😂 I have written zero things written for it but it's happening. Have a summary in lieu of actual words:

Twenty-year old Dream has just come of age for presentation, and early bidding has already begun to acquire this tantalizingly beautiful, yet sullen omega for a mate. Night and Time Endless are already salivating over the numbers, it seems their petulant omega son who couldn't find a mate on his own, may actually be of use after all. Dream absolutes hates everything about the presentation process. Hates all the photoshoots, parties, and absolutely boring meet and greets he has to attend. Hates that his parents are using him to elevate their status, when really, this is all just a convenient excuse to throw him away. At least he's allowed to dress how he wants! But instead of putting off potential suitors, Dream's moody demeanor and penchant for wearing all black seems to make him even more appealing to would be alpha mates. The question is, who will ultimately win the omega's heart, and will they have the money to pay off Dream's parents, or will they steal Dream away into the night and run off and elope?!

[pascalpanic]

Popping Pearls and Purple Skies (Din Djarin x f!reader)

Summary: While in your home system, Din takes you to your home planet for your favorite treat.

W/C: 3.6k

Warnings: food mention, Star Wars cursing lol, mentions of physical fighting, mentions of trauma

A/N: okay. this was inspired by me thinking Grogu would love popping boba bc he loved the frog lady’s eggs so much!! I hope I did it okay :) Siruus, reader’s home planet, is supposed to be a mishmash of cultures, none specifically, I just picked cool elements from a variety of cultures!

One of the delights you missed most from your home planet was, you discovered, practically unattainable on any other planet. You’d scoured far and wide, hoping maybe you’d cross paths with another Siruusian or an admirer of the culture, but found nothing. It was only on Siruus that you could find your favorite drink: a milky tea with popping pearls.

Din knows you miss your home. Late at night, in the hull of the ship, he’d confide that he missed his home planet too. He told you tales of growing up in Aq Vetina, the feather-light and velvety robes that he wore every day, the spicy foods his mother would cook- which later made him a great Mandalorian.

Did you know that the Mandos love spicy food, cyare? We have a whole vocabulary to describe the heat of a dish. It’s traditional. I was raised on it, and the comfort of a burning mouth was a universal sensation: one that reminded me of my real parents and my adoptive clan.

Rarely did the Mandalorian man let his guard down, but never had he completely done so like he has with you. From the moment he hired you to care for his little green son, he’d been entranced by your laughter, the smooth sound of your voice in the language you’d been raised speaking. He caught you teaching the kid some vocabulary, and he’d quiz him on it when you weren’t around. The kid couldn’t speak yet, but he could point and match words to images or objects, which he attributed entirely to you. You were the child’s primary caretaker and kindergarten teacher in one, and Din admired your care and commitment.

Something about you spoke to him, and over time he thinks he came to realize it was the fact that, though you’d never heard of The Way before meeting Din, you were the holistic ideal of a Mandalorian. You valued knowledge and valor, and though you didn’t work in the traditional Mando fields of bounty hunting or working as a warrior, you embodied another aspect: that care for children.

Watching you with the kid was what made him realize he was in love with you. He’d told you everything. When you looked over your shoulder and laughed, the baby watching you too, the gaze was a love Din has never felt but immediately recognized. It hit him and his whole body shuddered, harder than it had when the Maldo Kreis cold had seeped into his bones, even through the beskar. At the same time, he felt too warm in his own skin, like the fever he’d had as a toddler that threatened his life- he’d told you that story too.  Dank Farrik. This was not in the plan.

You had told Din all about your home planet too. You told him of the bright flowers that bloomed in the cold of winter, that released a pollen that made the birds in the area start laying their eggs. He listened intently every time, clinging to every word he told you like he’d never hear that beautiful voice again. He’d hear you singing Siruusian lullabies to the baby, and on nights you missed home.

He’d offered to take you back many times. Any time you were near, there was a standing offer to pop in for a visit. But you’ve always declined; the child and Mando would bring too much attention to your quiet little planet, you explained. That was only partially true, so you didn’t feel as bad lying by omission to Din. You’d neglected to mention, every time, that this was your life now, and more specifically that you never want to leave his side again.

Din really is something. You’d never even heard of Mandalorians before he swept you off your planet, never understood the intricate Creed and their strong beliefs. It didn’t matter to you, that you couldn’t see his face; at least at first. Of course you’d respect the slightly terrifying man’s customs.

But over time you’ve fallen for him, and that’s made everything just a little harder. The man seemingly made of steel was warm and gentle beneath it, with you and the child. He’d wrangle a bounty into the carbonite freezer then tenderly tuck a flower he found behind your ear, calling you sweet names in Mando’a that you didn’t understand. The juxtaposition of the man’s very being- covered in impenetrable, freezing metal to hide an ooey-gooey center like that of a warm pastry- was exciting and beautiful to you.

How could you not fall in love? The three of you became a little family, even as you joined Din on the quest of returning your little green son to his people. You’d treated the baby as your own son, the way Din did too. You’d tried to shepherd him away from the Frog woman’s eggs, only to find him munching on them moments later, scolded him with love and promptly hidden the container.

That day made you miss home even more. The eggs reminded you of the popping pearls you loved so much- no wonder the kid loved them. You’d never eat the Frog’s eggs, of course, but you’d sung the baby to sleep that night in the hull of the ship, another lullaby from your youth. Maybe next time you’d take Din’s offer to visit home seriously. Maybe. There was still another reason you didn’t want to return: if you came home, you weren’t sure you could leave again.

Now you’re in hyperspace, nestled into the small bunk, your child snoozing softly above you with gentle grunts and snorts of sleep. Din is up in the cockpit and you can’t sleep. You wonder if he’s awake too. Maybe you’ll go check.

Sliding on warm slippers to pad your bare feet from the cold metal of the floor, you climb the ladder to the cockpit and see Din sitting in the captain’s chair. You’re unsure if he’s awake or not; it’s hard to tell through the beskar. His shoulders shift a little as he hears you moving and you can tell he’s awake. “Hi. Couldn’t sleep,” you admit as you assume your regular position. The chairs move with the pull of a lever, and you scoot yours closer to Din and prop your feet on his arm rest.

Din nods, resting against the chair. “Me neither. The kid?”

“Asleep,” you confirm and nod, slumping down in your seat.

It’s nice and quiet between the two of you, a relaxed silence as the stars fly past and the Crest hums its low rumble of engines and filters. Just being in his presence soothes you more than being alone in that coffin of a bunk. If you think this is calming, you ponder, just his presence, imagine his arms around you while you sleep. Imagine his warm skin beneath the beskar surrounding you and radiating heat.

He’s thinking the same thing. You look impossibly soft and warm. Your plush skin prickles with the cold of the cockpit and Din wants to put an ungloved hand over it and let the heat of his flushed body sink into yours. He doesn’t. He just stares off at the stars. “We’re approaching your home system,” he murmurs softly. “Would you like to visit?”

Well damn. You hadn’t expected to be confronted with the question so soon, and you’re not quite sure how to answer. “I don’t know.”

It’s quiet again. Din’s silence invites you to speak your inner monologue, to throw your tangled thoughts into the open so he can help unknot them with his nimble mind. In response to his lack of words, which say as much as any sentence, you respond. “I haven’t been there in so long. I don’t know if I want to go back. I like my life now, and I’m scared I’ll want to stay if we visit.”

Din nods as you speak, processing the meanings of your words. “Well,” he begins, “what if I rephrase it like this: would you like us to visit?”

Us. What the kriff does that entail? The three of you, your little family, perhaps? You and Din as friends, as coworkers? Or as something more… your mind spins and you can’t make sense of it, so you give it up. “What does that mean?”

Din turns his chair to face you, moving your legs to drape across his lap. Even through the gloves, he holds back a shiver as he rests his hands atop your shins. “We’ll go, all three of us. If you like your life now, we’ll be your reminders of it.”

Your mouth curves into a warm smile, your body feeling soft and fuzzy all over. “How kind.”

“I’ll even buy you that tea you ramble about,” he offers.

Gasping in excitement, you clap your hands together. “Will you try it? Oh, Din, you’ll love it, it’s the most delicious thing in the galaxy.”

“We’ll see about that,” he chuckles through the modulator, a sound you wish you could hear without the mechanical suppressor.

Popping up, you kiss the top of his beskar-clad head in excitement before you can stop yourself. “Thank you, Din.”

“Anything for you, cyare,” he says with a certain warmth to his voice, a large hand finding your waist. “Go get some rest, lie down. We’ll be there in about half a day.”

“Only if you rest too,” you tell him and your hand rests over his. It’s the most he’s ever touched you purposefully, and now all you want is for him to slide that hand back until he’s wrapping you in his muscular arms. Din nods and you pat his forearm. “Sweet dreams.”

-

The ramp comes down and your mouth forms a soft ring in excitement. It’s a beautiful day, the nearest sun making the atmosphere the beautiful purple you grew up under. The oranges and yellows of the architecture surround you, and you instinctively clutch the Mandalorian’s hand. “Welcome to my home,” you tell him with a grin and lead him down.

Your little green child is strapped to your chest in a baby carrier, a birikad in Mando’a, and he looks around in wonder, squealing excitedly. As you walk through the streets of the small city, vendors call in Siruusian, a language Din is slowly learning from you. He thinks he recognizes a few words here or there.

Venturing to the side, a stall sells small animals made of a gorgeously embroidered fabric. You had many of these as a child; your favorite was a blue and silver bantha, an exotic animal you’d never seen before your adventures with Din. The child coos at the menagerie in front of him and you squat so he can look at them.

“Toata,” you coo in Siruusian, a word to mean little one, “can you pick the frog?”

That’s one of the words you worked on with him. A tiny, green, three-fingered hand grabs a gorgeous yellowy-brown frog and holds it up in triumph. “Good job, cutie! Aren’t you a smart little thing?” you grin and kiss his forehead. “Is that the one you want?”

Din watches from a few meters back, grinning beneath the helmet. When the child nods excitedly and squeals, he almost laughs softly at the beautiful sight. You pay for the frog and Din meanders over, the baby already chewing on a long leg of the plush.

He wants to see you like that for the rest of his life: glowing with excitement, the little kid strapped to your chest, absolutely at ease and relaxed in the place you used to call home. “You want one too?” you ask.

He shakes his head at first, but after a little haggling, Din purchases himself a copper and yellow blurrg and a mudhorn made of silver for you. The symbolism of the mudhorn, of Clan Djarin, is not lost on you. It makes your heart flit nervously around your ribcage as you wander through the market, making your little mudhorn and the baby’s frog pretend to fight. As always, the littlest member of Clan Djarin triumphs over the mighty mudhorn.

An aromatic smell wafts through the air and your face lights up to see a stand selling your favorite beverage. Din spots it too and makes his way over, getting in the line, his hand holding yours once again. This time, he initiated it. You like that. It makes you giggle and squeeze his fingers softly.

“What do you usually order?” he asks you.

You frown and scan the menu. You explain your drink to him, an orange-colored, sweet and herbal milk tea with your favorite citrusy popping pearls in the bottom. He asks what you think he’d like and you pick a drink for him: a blue, warmly-spiced milk tea with the same pearls. “It’s not the proper drink without it,” you explain.

Picking the baby from his carrier to face you, you ask him questions by the process of elimination. “Okay, toata, do you like… mushfruit?” He makes a noise of disproval. You knew he hated that one; you wanted to ensure he was listening. “No? How about…” you pretend to ponder it. “How about panga?”

The baby squeals in excitement. The green fruit has always been his favorite when you and Din require him to eat his fruit. “Wonderful, and a panga milk tea with you. Do you remember froggie’s eggs?” You ask him, pointing to the frog toy he holds. He tilts his head in confusion.

“The snackies I said no?” That clue does it. He nods, cooing and giggling. “These taste like those! You’ll love it.”

The rest of the time in the line is quiet, shuffling forward slowly to reach the stand. “Is it what you’d hoped?” Din asks after a while.

You nod and smile. “As soon as I get my tea, it will be.”

“And you… you don’t want to stay?”

“Nope,” you agree, popping the p with your lips.

He doesn’t know quite what to say. He’s not the wordsmith you are. “Well. I’m glad. I, uh. I’d miss you if you left.”

The words are simple but they warm your heart. “I’d miss the two of you far too much to leave,” you assure him. “For different reasons, respectively.”

Your flirtation is more than mild, but it hangs in Din’s mouth like a spicy Mandalorian food. He knows what you imply, and the thought that you could feel the same practically sends him into orbit, above Siruus’s atmosphere and next to one of its 4 moons. He can’t respond. He just tightens his grip on your hand.

Once you’ve acquired the drinks, Din holding his and the child’s, the three of you make your way back to the Razor Crest so Din can enjoy the drink too. Walking up the ramp, you sigh as the air-controlled atmosphere warms your slightly-chilled skin from being outside for so long in the Siruusian spring.

You unpack the kid from his carrier, and grin as he toddles to his father, making grabby hands for his green drink. “Oh my, toata,” you tease. “Your drink is the same color as you!”

Din laughs softly, and sets the drink on the floor for him. The baby tries to hold it and walk but the cup is too tall to move with his tiny body. You lift it for him and move it so he can sit in a circle with you and Din, cross-legged on the floor.

The baby plops down in front of his drink then realizes it’s too tall for him to sip from the thick straw while seated. The baby makes a little whine of frustration and you scoop up the kid, putting him in your lap. You hold the cup for him, and his two tiny hands grab the straw to drink from. The baby squeaks as he pops a pearl in his mouth. It’s just like the froggy eggs, and he couldn’t be more excited.

Your free hand holds your drink, and you close your eyes in happiness when the first sip of your tea reaches your tongue. You make a content little moan at the flavor, then open your eyes to see the child vigorously slurping up the drink. “Woah, little man. Slow down.”

Din just watches the two of you, smiling to himself. When your eyes return to him, he lifts his drink. “I’m not really supposed to do this,” he admits as he grabs the edge of his helmet. Both you and the child watch in bewilderment as he lifts his helmet just enough to expose the bottom of his nose, his lips and chin.

You’d never really processed that Din would be… well, so human. The strip of his face, exposed, reveals warm skin, dark stubble, and lips that look ridiculously soft. It’s a sight to see, a Mandalorian cross-legged on the floor and sipping tea with popping pearls. It makes you grin, and both you and the baby lean in closer to try and look under the helmet further.

“That’s as much as you get,” Din teases as he lowers the helmet, once more covering his entire face.

You frown, but the excitement of Din trying your favorite treat overwhelms it for now. “What do you think?” You ask.

Din tilts his head and does exactly that: thinks. “It’s very good,” he nods as he looks at the child, nearly halfway done with his green milk-tea. “I really like it. That’s delicious.”

“Yay,” you smile and sip your own drink again, sighing. The three of you continue like that for a while, sitting together and drinking your tea. Every time he lifts his helmet, you consider those plush lips, the scruff coating his defined jaw and chin. When his tea is gone, you frown to realize the moment of intimacy, of seeing just a little of his face, is over.

The kid is tuckered out from his day. You put the baby to bed in his hammock over the bunk, kissing him goodnight and singing him a lullaby as you rock the knit cradle. He falls asleep quickly,  tummy full of a delicious treat very similar to his favorite snack. While you put the child to bed, Din pilots you safely out of the sky harbor and away from Siruus, out of the purple-tinted sky and back into the darkness of space followed by hyperdrive.

You climb up to the cockpit, entering and standing behind Din’s captain chair. “I had a wonderful time today. Thank you.” You put your hands on his pauldron-covered shoulders.

“Thank you,” he insists. “I’d never go there for any other reason. The drink was wonderful and the kid absolutely loved everything about it.” “Maybe we’ll have to vacation there sometime,” you chuckle, spotting Din’s little toy blurrg peeking out from a pocket on his utility belt.

Din turns and stands from his chair, looking at you through that black t-visor. You’re not sure why he does it; in all honesty, he isn’t either. You stare into the helmet, where you suspect and hope his eyes are. “You’re very handsome under there,” you tell him, putting a hand on the divot of his helmet, where the beskar caves inward over his cheeks.

“I’m nothing special,” he shakes his head, a hand covering yours. “Nowhere as special or as beautiful as you.”

Heat rises in your skin, blood flowing closer to the surface. “That’s not true, Din.”

“It is. You’re the most beautiful creature I’ve seen in the galaxy,” he murmurs, his other hand cupping your cheek through leather gloves.

“Well, thank you,” you laugh softly, almost nervously, “but I meant you’re very special. I haven’t even seen all of your face and I know you’re absolutely gorgeous beneath that helmet.” You pause, tracing the curves of the beskar. “What color eyes do you have? I want to finish the mental picture.”

“Brown,” Din breathes out, barely able to control himself with you this close.

“Din?”

“Mesh’la.”

“Can… can you do what you did with your helmet to drink the tea?”

He lifts it just enough, just exposing those goddamn taunting lips and the scruffy jaw. “Like this?”

“Exactly,” you exhale before cupping his soft jaw, feeling the stubble beneath your palms as you press your lips to his. Those lips are a little dry but warm and strong, just like you’d assume the rest of him is. He puts a hand on your waist and pulls you in close, kissing you back deeply.

The beskar right above his lips makes it more difficult but not impossible. He lifts the helmet a little higher so he can tilt his head to the side, can kiss you with the energy and passion you’re putting into it. Mentally, he adds this to his lists of favorite tastes: spicy Mandalorian cuisine, your favorite tea with popping pearls, and you.

It lasts a while before you break away and Din lowers his helmet all the way once more. You breathe heavily from the fervor of the kiss, lips swollen and damp. Maker, he wishes this visor had a photo capability to take a picture of the way you look. “Come rest with me. Please, Din.”

Din can’t say no to that. He retreats downstairs with you, strips himself of the beskar save for the helmet, and snuggles into your side. Your wish comes true then and there, when you learn that he’s as good of a cuddler as you’d hoped. “Goodnight, Din. Thank you,” you murmur.

“Goodnight, mesh’la. Thank you more.”

The baby above you gives a little snort in his sleep. That’s the last thing you remember before falling asleep in his arms.

-

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[yelena-bellova]

Don’t Be Afraid: Poe Dameron x Solo!Reader - Chapter Three

Chapter Three: Midnight Flight

Series Masterlist

Plot: Reader can’t sleep after the day she had, she finds her way to the hanger where she finds Poe. He decides to take her mind off of things.

Warnings: Literally two suggestive lines, a healthy dose of angst in the beginning and a whole lot of fluff.

Word Count: 3.6k

A/N: This one took a while, I’m trying to build the Reeader and Poe’s relationship with only so much time to do it. I semi hate what I wrote and I also semi like it, life of a writer lol. We’re going to jump into TFA in the next chapter so this is the last chill chapter for a while, enjoy!

——————-

Leia and Han fell in love with y/n the moment they met her. They decided to raise her as their own, no one was more ecstatic about the decision than Ben. He’d been asking his parents about a sibling for a while. He doted on y/n and stayed by her side constantly trying to help her adjust to her new life.

Y/n adjusted quickly, she became just as attached to Ben and the two became inseparable. She loved Han and Leia, though she didn’t start addressing them as ‘mom’ nd ‘dad’ until about a year after Ben found her. She still had memories of her birth parents, though very few, and she struggled with shifting those roles to other people. One random night as Leia and Han said goodnight to their children, she said it without even thinking,

“Goodnight, Mom. Goodnight, Dad.”

Once they were out of the room, Han and Leia blinked, looked at each other and headed to bed.

Ben and Y/n were each other’s best friend all throughout childhood. They became even closer once they both realized Y/n could use the Force. When they’d discovered it, it was a typical day on the Falcon. They were on Coruscant so Leia could attend a Senate hearing and Han was outside with Chewie doing minor repairs. Y/n and Ben had gotten into a fight (they may have been best friends, but they were still siblings) and at one point, Ben used the Force on Y/n to shove her into a wall. He’d never used his abilities on her like that, she’d felt anger towards her brother before but this was pure rage. As if she’d done it all her life, she threw her hand out towards Ben and he went backwards straight into the cockpit and fell onto the dashboard. Unfortunately, he fell on the button that powered up the ship and it roared to life. The siblings looked at each other in horror, partially at what Y/n had just done and partially at what their father was going to do to them. Ben slammed his hand down on the button and powered the ship down quickly as he heard Han and Chewie coming inside.

“What the hell are you two doing in here?!” Han yelled through the ship as he approached the cockpit.

“How many times have I told you to NEVER touch ANYTHING in this room unless I say so?” Han asked with a raised tone, Chewie roaring in support behind him. “Well?”

Y/n opened her mouth to speak and beg for her father’s forgiveness, when she was cut off by her brother.

“We were running around and I slipped and hit the button. I promise it was an accident, Dad, I’m really sorry.” Ben explained, Han looking over at him before turning to Y/n.

“But I was the one that was chasing him, so it’s really my fault.” Y/n interjected, “I’m sorry, Dad, we should have been more careful.”

Han ran a hand through his hair and grumbled something. “Alright, alright. I’ll let your mother deal with the two of you when she gets back. Now Chewie and I are gonna finish up out there,” he pointed a finger at them both, “No more running.” With that, Chewie and him left.

Y/n wrapped her arms around him and cried into his shirt, “I’m so sorry, I’m so so sorry. I swear I didn’t mean to do that!”

“Y/n, I’m not even mad anymore. How long have you known you could use the Force?” Ben asked as he pulled her away so he could see her face.

She sniffled, “I didn’t! I swear I never knew about it, I would have told you if I’d known!”

Ben let out an astonished laugh, “This is so cool! Mom’s gonna be ao excited when you show her! Dad probably won’t like it but-“

”Whoa, whoa, whoa, Ben.” Y/n took a step back and dried her eyes, “They can’t ever know about this. EVER.”

”Why would you not tell them?”

Y/n motioned to the dashboard, “Do you not remember what just happened? I hurt you! I’m not ever doing that again.”

Ben rolled his eyes, “Okay, yeah, and I’ll get you back for it at some point but Y/n, you can’t just keep this to yourself.”

”Yes, I can and yes, I am. Ben,” Y/n walked towards him and held his hand, “The feeling that went through me when I pushed you, it was...scary. I felt like I didn’t have control and that’s how you ended up hurt. I don’t want to risk hurting you or anybody else.”

Ben sighed and pulled her into his arms, he didn’t agree with her at all but he couldn’t force her into using her abilities. He also didn’t understand what it was like to discover that power. He’d grown up using the Force, it was second nature to him.

Y/n pulled back after a moment, “Promise me this stays between us. Mom and Dad can’t ever find out UNLESS I decide to tell them.”

Ben nodded sadly, “I promise.”

”I’m serious, nothing to anyone. And that includes Uncle Chewie.”

He scoffed, “Y/n, I would never betray you. I promise.”

—————-

I couldn’t sleep.

I’d hidden in my room all day, too shaken to do anything else after my training session. I’d skipped dinner, I’d ignored knocks at my door, I’d shut everyone and everything out. Come 10 o’ clock, I changed into pajamas and climbed into bed ready to put an end to the day.

Ha. Right.

I tossed and turned for two hours before I gave up and threw the covers off. I was tired, but clearly not enough to sleep. I went to my desk, grabbed the robe that hung off the chair and tied it around my body. I opened my door and left my room, pressing the lock on the datapad and watching the door close.

It was late so there were hardly any people moving through the residential part of the base. There was one pilot coming back from a mission, a tech worker who’d clearly been working all evening...

The general’s daughter who was wandering around base in her pajamas thinking about the lightsaber sitting in her room.

There were reasons for my conflicting feelings towards using the Force. The first time I’d ever used it was out of anger to hurt someone I loved. That was reason enough to be worried about it happening again one day. But over the years of secret training sessions, I’d gained better control of my emotions. I’d grown up seeing my Force-sensitive mother use it only for good, but I’d also witnessed the dark side of it in it’s purest form.

And I’d witnessed it in the person I loved the most in the galaxy.

At the thought of my brother, I leaned my head against the nearest wall and stopped walking. It didn’t matter how many years it had been, losing him still felt like a fresh wound. Maybe the wound had never closed because I was fighting a war and it wasn’t with him at my side. The rest of the galaxy saw the war as the Resistance vs. the First Order, but for me it was brother vs. sister in a fight they never should have been in.

I pushed off the wall and continued down the hallway, passing the empty cafeteria and a few offices. Reading the names of my peers on the plaques next to their doors, I felt envious. All these people knew who they were and exactly what they were doing their lives. I was Leia’s daughter, I was expected to know exactly what I was doing at all times when privately, I was a complete mess. I was fighting a war against my brother, my family had been torn apart, and there was a lightsaber sitting in my room that I simultaneously loved and hated. I wanted so badly to be as stable and steady as my fellow commamnders, the people that answered to me deserved that from me. I wanted to do my part in this war and make sure the First Order’s reign of terror across the galaxy ended.

I just wished things weren’t so complicated.

Somehow, I’d ended up on the opposite end of base outside the hanger. It made sense that my feet naturally carried me there, it’s where I spent most of my free time. Whether it was bringing Jess lunch when she was too busy to leave, watching potential recruits run test flights or helping Poe with repairs on his ship...

Speak of the devil, there he was doing just that. Only the bottom half of his body was visible as his top half was buried in the cockpit of his X-Wing. Intrigued as to his reason for not being in the cantina drinking his squad under the table, I made my way over to him.

“Someone looks surprisingly sober.”

His head popped up at the sound of my voice, turning on the ladder he was standing on to face me,

“The parts came in to fix the guidance system,” he said, wiping his hands on a dirty rag, “Shots with Snap and Jess can wait.”

I hummed in acknowledgement and came to stand below his ladder. Poe turned back around and continued working, “Why are you up so late?”

I put a hand on the ladder, “Can’t sleep, my brain and I aren’t getting along.”

Poe chuckled, “How so?”

”Well, I wanted to sleep but my head thinks that I should evaluate every regret, problem and emotional trauma I’ve ever had.”

He stood to his full height and took a few steps down the ladder, “Well, forget the cantina, you’re having all the fun tonight.”

I laughed and pressed my forehead against the ladder, Poe took a seat on a step so we were face to face. He was dressed in his orange jumpsuit, but it was tied at his waist, and a tight grey tee shirt. He looked surprisingly awake for the time, whereas I looked like a Corellian freighter had hit me.

“You wanna talk about it?”

I shook my head gently against the cool steel of the ladder. Poe was no stranger to my family history, I’d talked to him before about my brother but I could only say so much. Poe naturally looked at Kylo Ren as pure evil, I saw my brother who’d been misled and manipulated by a dark force.

He sighed, “Well, how about we take your mind off of all these deep dark secrets you’re keeping from me?”

I had to stop mself from laughing, if only he knew...

“What’re you thinking, Dameron?”

Mischief came over his face immediately, he gestured up to the massive ship we were standing below. I connected the dots, quickly realizing his ingenious idea,

“No,” I said firmly, causing Poe to smile.

“Yes.” He replied.

“You already almost killed me once today and I’m pretty sure I said I was never flying with you again.”

Poe started zipping up his flight suit, “Yeah, and you’ve said that a hundred times yet you always get back in a ship with me.”

He had me there, Poe was reckless and impulsive yet for some reason, I still trusted him with my life.

He was already climbing the ladder and awaiting my reply expectantly. I looked to him, rolled my eyes and followed him up. Once I was at the top, he was already seated and I realized where I’d be sitting,

“How the hell are you going to fly safely with me sitting on your lap?”


A coy smile appeared on his face, “Guess you’ll have to find out.”

Rolling my eyes, I awkwardly stepped in between Poe’s legs and looked behind to see where I was going to land. Why did this feel like it was crossing some sort of line in our friendship? One part of my mind was protesting and the other part was practically shoving my body down happily. Splitting the difference, I cautiously sunk down onto my friend’s lap. Poe placed his hands on my hips without warning to situate the both of us. The warmth of his touch sept through my thin robe and pajamas, simultaneously making me nervous and at ease.

Poe flipped a switch that turned on his beloved ship, I leaned back to look at him. He looked like he did earlier in the day; happy, content, relaxed.

“Ready?”

I smiled softly, “Let’s fly, Dameron.”

Without me realizing, he’d grabbed hold of the controls and lifted us up in the air. I’d flown all my life, but never in an X-Wing, and it moved much differently than the ships I’d piloted. Poe guided us out of the hanger and before I knew it, we were flying above D’Qar’s lush landscapes.

“Are you going to tell me where we’re going?”

“We’re not going anywhere, just for a fly.” Poe replied as he made a slow left turn to get us further from base. “I’m also going to teach you how to fly an X-Wing.”

“Seriously?” I asked with a little too much excitement in my voice.

He smiled at my eagerness, “Well, you’re gonna learn how to steer at least. Okay, the joystick’s pretty sensitive so you’ve got to be careful. And make sure not to press any of the buttons, especally the red one or we’re going to eject right out of the ship.”

I blew out a breath, “Right, no pressure.”

“Pfft, if you’ve flown the Millenium Falcon, you can handle this.”

“I never said I flew it, you just seemed to assume that I had.” I pointed out quickly, turning my head to face him.

“Yeah, and you’ve never once denied it.” Poe said smugly as if he’d trapped me.

“Are we going to argue or are we going to fly?” I asked loudly.

“I’m sure we’ll find a way to do both,” Poe replied, while making a small turn, “Alright, grab the joystick.”

He let go with one hand and I took hold of it, once I had a grip he let go with his other. I was officially flying an X-Wing on my own.

I laughed, “This is so cool!”

Poe seemed to enjoy how enthusiastic I was, “If this is how excited you get just going straight, I can’t imagine what you’ll be like when you do something complex.”

A smirk appeared on my face, “What, you mean like this?”

Without warning, I pulled up on the joystick sending us straight up in the air. Poe let out a yelp and his arms flew to my waist, I maneuvered the stick so we’d do a loop. Once we’d straightened out, I started laughing, partially from adrenaline and partially from Poe’s reaction.

“What the hell, Y/n?!”

“Now you know what it’s like to fly with you!” I replied, stlll laughing. His arms were wrapped tightly around my waist still as if he was afraid I was going to do it again. He’d started laughing with me and had his forehead pressed between my shoulder blades. This was another one of those warm, relaxed moments that I wished we could share more often. But somehow tonight felt like...different.

“Alright, daredevil, I’m taking us back to base.” Poe said, reaching around me to take control of the ship. I found myself missing his arms as soon as they were gone from my waist.

Within a few minutes, we were landing in the hanger. Poe pressed the button that extended the ladder to the ground and I climbed down first, him following suit.

“That was pretty fun, I’ll hand it to you.” I said as we leisurely strolled out of the hanger into the halls.

“Glad I could help get your mind off of things,” Poe replied, “And, of course, I just brought up whatever you’re trying to avoid.”

He sounded dejected in his last sentence, ”It’s okay,” I put my hand on his arm, “Tonight was great but my problems were going to be waiting for me as soon as I got back to my room.”

“Then don’t go back to your room tonight.” Poe stated nonchalantly.

“So your solution is me going and snuggling with my mommy?”

He chuckled, “No, you can stay with me.”

There it was, that feeling that I’d gotten several times tonight. When I’d sat down in his lap, praying that he didn’t sense how awkward I felt. When he’d wrapped his arms around me and lingered for a few minutes. What had suddenly changed between us where Poe and I put in more intimate situations and I felt nervous?

I tried not to let the tone of my thoughts come out in my words, “Stay with you?”

“Well, yeah,” Poe said, shrugging his shoulders and stopping in our path, “You need sleep and I know you well enough to know you’re going to stay up all night worrying if you’re alone.”

I let out a small laugh, sometimes I forgot how well he knew me. That’s exactly what was going to happen. With Poe there, I’d be forced to try and get some sleep. Against my better judgement, listening to the part of my mind that loved being wrapped in his arms moments ago, I caved...

“Alright, it’s worth a shot.”

Looking victorious, we continued down the hall making a different turn towards Poe’s quarters. He wasn’t too far from my own, we were both commanders, but I was closer to my mother’s room. We arrived at his door and he entered his code into the datapad, letting me in first.

Poe’s quarters were fairly minimalistic. A few knickknacks he’d picked up during his travels stood on his desk. A picture of him and his father, Kes, was pinned to the wall while one of him and Black Squadron hung next to it. BB-8’s charging station laid in a corner, the lovable droid himself plugged in alraedy and turned off. A few jackets and clothes were strewn on chairs, and his bed that stood close to the door. I’d been here dozens of times, yet this time I felt like I was paying more attention to my surroundings.

“I’m gonna do us both a favor and wash up real quick, go ahead and make yourself comfortable.” Poe said, grabbing some clothes from his dresser amd disappearing into his bathroom.

I sat down on the edge of his bed and put my head in my hands, chuckling at my situation. I could think of a dozen girls on base who would renounce their families to spend a night with the legendary Poe Dameron. Here I was trying to slow my suddenly rapid heartbeat at the thought of sleeping next to him, my best friend. When the hell did this happen? I stood up, untied my robe and hung it off of Poe’s desk chair. Walking back to the bed, I flipped over the covers on one side and crawled under.

After a few minutes, Poe exited the bathroom and I peeked over at him. He’d changed into a pair of grey sweatpants and a black tank top that clung tightly to his torso. His eyes fell on me and he gave a soft smile, as if the sight of me in his bed made him happy. He switched off the light to the room and walked over to his side of the bed. I wasn’t sure how to position myself, standard issue beds were fairly small and we’d definitely be somewhat up against each other. He turned on his side and I did the same,

“Thank you for this...It’s just been a stressful day.” I said quietly, I didn’t have to speak very loud considering our faces were only a few inches apart.

“I get it, or maybe I don’t, we won’t know till you talk to me,” he said, his last words spoken in a singsong tone.

I laughed, “Not tonight, remember? Tonight’s about distracting me.”

Even in the dark, I could see that familiar eyebrow going up, “I can think of several things we haven’t tried yet.”

I hoped the darkness concealed my suddenly red cheeks. Usually I could dish it back out to him without a second thought, but tonight I found myself trying not to let my mind drift to the ideas Poe was alluding to.

“Yeah,” I spoke up, “Like going to sleep.”


Poe comically rolled his eyes, “Fine, if you want to go the boring route.”

I reached over and placed a hand on his bicep, “Thanks for always being there for me. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Hey, that goes both ways, sweetheart.” Poe replied, reaching up to gently run his hand up and down my arm. His touch created goosebumps I hoped he wouldn’t feel, but knew he could. For just a second as we looked into each other’s eyes, I thought I saw his flicker to my lips. But it was too quick a movement to confirm.

“C’mere,” he mumbled, opening his arms to me.

My body went into autopilot mode and I moved into his arms before giving it a second thought. I placed one of my hands on his chest and wrapped the other around his torso. I could feel his mother’s ring that hung from his neck under his tank top. One of his hands cradled my head and the other was splayed out on my back, anchoring me to him. This was the most comfortable and at ease I thought I’d ever been in my life. Poe’s skin smelled fresh from the shower, his firm grip on my back was comforting and his body was the type of warmth you could lose yourself in.

Well, if we hadn’t crossed a line already tonight, I was pretty sure we had now...

“Get some sleep, Y/n.” Poe whispered, resting his chin on top of my head. I softly hummed in agreement as I felt myself already beginning to drift off...

————

A/N: Well, that’s all she wrote. Actually, she wrote many scenes that didn’t make it in but whatever...We’re slowly starting to piece together the Reader and Ben’s history, honestly that’s one of my favorite parts to write. Next week, we jump into TFA. In the words of Anakin Skywalker, this is where the fun begins 😏 Hope you enjoy!!

Taglist: @m1rkw00dpr1ncess @springfox04 @constantdisgrace @holybatflapexpert @seninjakitey @tammythompson-singslikea-muppet @leilei-draws @eternal-fandoms

[conaionaru]

Honor and Blood (Ivar the Boneless)

Prophecy of fire

Synopsis: Aslaug sees an unsettling vision about Vanya’s and Ivar’s future.

Warning: angst, fluff, Ivar, toxic family, prophecy

Tagged

@shannygoatgruff @youbloodymadgenius @xbellaxcarolinax @heavenly1927 @lol-haha-joke @queenbeeta​ @didiintheblog​

P.S.: Anything in cursive is in Old Norse.

I don't own the gifs. Also, thank you for your support. I really appreciate it.

Waking up next to Ivar became one of Vanya's favorite things in the morning. The way the light hit his tan skin as his bare chest rose slowly to the singing of the birds in the background. It all seemed like a dream she never knew she needed in her life. She put her pale hand on his chest and felt his heart beating slowly. Her husband looked so serene and innocent sleeping. Nothing like the stories she heard of Vikings. She loved the difference.

"Why are you staring at me?" He asked groggily, making her lock gazes with him. His blue eyes still looked tired, like they needed all the rest they could get before he was ready to leave the bed. Vanya chuckled as she laid her head on his chest and smiled in delight.

"I am admiring true beauty." Vanya teased, quoting his words from the wedding feast. Ivar rolled his eyes at her and threw his arm over her waist, drawing her closer to him. She closed her eyes and let his breathing lull her back to sleep. Unfortunately for both of them, a thrall knocked on their door, informing them that the Queen wants them to meet her in the Great hall.

The couple groaned in annoyance before Vanya rose from the bed and slipped an underdress over her naked body. She heard the thrall leave, as they were advised to do since they once entered to wake the royal duo, only to have a dagger thrown at them, when Ivar was getting dresses. So since then, they dress themselves. 

Vanya put on a pale purple dress with roses on it as Ivar tied his legs together. She still hasn't seen his them bare, but she doesn't push. It was better to let him do it at his own pace. The more patient she would be, the better, and she wasn't that curious to see them. Different or not, they were still legs. 

"What are you doing today?" Ivar asked, getting down from the bed and crawling to her side as she braided her hair. 

Vanya looked down at her husband as she finished her little braid and smiled at him. "Brynja and I are going to the market to buy new fabrics. Do you want me to sew you something? Any special requests?" 

Ivar shook his head at her offer and told her he is going hunting with his brothers and won't probably return till tomorrow if they decide to stay at the hunting cabin. Vanya wished him a good hunt and kissed him on the lips before they parted ways. 

She was still a little bit shaken up from yesterday's argument. The first night they talked together, he told her she could do whatever she wanted to do. Yet he obviously drew the line at Christianity. She didn't care about the Christian God - he was a useless god in her eyes. His punishments were too severe, and his rules cruel. Silas always mocked her with Queen Judith of Wessex, the woman who got her ear cut off. He threatened he would do the same to her if she continued to test him. She prayed to God for mercy, but it didn't come at all. Yet Silas was a sea away from her, and she worshipped other gods now. 

There was no place for God in her heart anymore; perhaps there never was. He was her father, God, and the possibility of him being with her even after death was beautiful. But the more she thought about it, the more she realized there never was an angel or God by her side. Silas was cruel to her, giving her bruises that took weeks to heal. And no matter how much she prayed, God did nothing. If he truly existed, he would have done something. What kind of cruel god is he if he does nothing? 

Maybe all gods are just stories told by men to justify their choices. The tales of all-powerful gods looking over them and doing incredible deeds gives them an illusion of order in this world. After all, children sleep easier, thinking someone is protecting them. Is that what her father was? A fool believing in a made-up story? 

The two sat down with the other Ragnarssons as Aslaug smiled at them a cup of mead in her hand. "What did you want to talk about, Mother?" Ubbe asked her, not liking the suspense.

Aslaug waved her hand at him in a dismissive way and sipped from her cup. "No worries. It is good news. Some traders offered to help Floki build ships by giving him some material. The only thing they ask is that you mention their generosity to the other people who will sail with you."

Bjorn nodded at that information and thanked her, saying he will inform Floki of it before they leave to hunt. Vanya looked at Bjorn curiously, trying to remember if he mentioned a journey. "Where are you going, Bjorn?"

The tall Viking looked at his sister in law and smiled at her proudly. "I found a map on our raid in Frankia a long time ago. I want to sail there, and Floki is building the ships for the journey." He explained excitedly thinking of the new things he would see when the time came. 

Vanya smiled at his excitement and wished him good luck on his journey. Apparently, the other brothers wanted to come too, and we're still pondering who would go and who not. Hvitserk was sure he would go even if he had to sneak on the ship.

They all ate, conversating together about their plans before the boys stood up to leave. Ivar kissed Vanya's temple and crawled away. When Vanya stood up to also go, Aslaug called her name. She mentioned for the redhead to sit next to her, cause she wanted to talk. 

Vanya braced herself for the hard conversation before her and sat down on Ubbe's earlier chair. "I am very happy for you and Ivar. And I am sorry for pressuring you. I didn't mean it in a wrong way. I simply want you two to be happy."

Vanya nodded at the Queen's words appreciating the less tense atmosphere between them.  "Who taught you to behave like that, Love?"

Aslaug's words were curious yet still made Vanya pause. She didn't know the reason behind her question; after all, why should the Queen care about it? "My father always said that people have greater importance than armies. He believed that being loved had a bigger value than being feared. I think the same. However, it is good to have both. Only love won't win wars if the need arises."

"Wise words. He must have been a smart man to think that. How did he die?" Aslaug questioned again, her eyes sharp as a whip. She was looking for something, that was sure. 

Vanya swallowed, thinking of her father's pale face and bony hands as he took his last breath in his chambers. "A sudden illness took him. He suffered for a long time before he passed away." Her tone was sad, and she could feel moisture at the corners of her eyes. Despite being dead for nearly three years, he was still a sore subject to her. 

"I am sorry, Love. But you have a new family here now. And who knows, maybe one day you and Ivar will have a family of your own if the gods bless you." And there it was—the point of the whole conversation. Aslaug wanted grandkids. "Do you want children, Vanya?"

Vanya frowned at the question, never really thinking about it. It was expected of her as a woman to bear children. She dreamed of a handsome husband who would give her many pretty children with rosy cheeks. She did want them, but she hated that it was expected of her. Silas and Mother always reminded her that bearing Ivar's sons was a must. But she wondered if it was possible for her to bring his children to the world. What if he couldn't give her a child because of his affliction? What would become of her then?

"I do want children. But I--" 

"You worry if you will have any with him, don't you?" Vanya nodded at the Queen's question in sadness. "I pray to the gods every night for you to get pregnant. I had a vision."

The ginger looked at Aslaug in wonder. Curious blue orbs met coal lined ones in a silent order to continue. "I saw a little body with eyes as blue as the sky looking up at ravens flying over its heads. The babe's hands wrapped around a snake's neck in a tight grip—the frozen sea behind the child as it crawled towards a fire to warm itself. I don't think it is a bad dream. The child is in danger, but it is a strong child. Brave and determined to survive."

Vanya frowned at the Queen's prophecy and nodded her head in understanding at it. "You could ask the Seer what the gods have to say about it. He will know what to tell you. But I am sure there is a child in your future." 

She hoped it was the truth; she wanted children with Ivar. But what if her child was in immense danger? The prophecy sounded anything but friendly to her, no matter what Aslaug said. A snake and a fire was anything but good in her eyes. It meant obstacles in the life of a child that wasn't even conceived yet, and she already worried about it. What if the child died before it would grow up? Or if it died in her womb? What if the fire that was supposed to warm it would burn it instead? 

"You are very silent today, Princess," Brynja commented, worried, looking over the silks the old woman offered to them. "Are you alright?"

Vanya looked up from the steel blue fabric she inspected before and smiled at her servant and friend. "Got a lot on my mind, that's all." Brynja nodded her head, not truly believing the Princess but decided not to press the matter. 

After Vanya bought the fabrics, did she ask a thrall to bring them to her chambers. "I wish to talk to you privately." Brynja nodded at the whispered words and led the wife of Ivar the Boneless towards a lake in the woods. The grass looked soft while the water was clear and twinkled in the sun. The day was rather warm today for Kattegat's usual coldness. 

The two women sat down on the grass watching the lake, neither saying anything for some time. Vanya cast her gaze down to her lap to look at the half-moon wounds she gave herself yesterday. She trailed her thumb over the tender scars and sighed loudly. "What do you think of Ivar? Be honest."

Brynja's head snapped towards Vanya as she watched the young Princess's blank face. Her usual honest front was replaced with a coldness that gave nothing away. She reminded the servant of Ivar at that moment. A hunter waiting for his prey to make its first move. 

"I don't know him that well, Vanya. I only serve you." Vanya hummed at the servant's frantic tone and looked back up at the lake. 

"My husband's personality worries me sometimes. I like him, that much I am sure. But his mood swings are frightening sometimes. He caught me praying, I confessed to him I prayed to the Christian god too. He got angry at that. He claims he won't hurt me, but yet he scares me." Vanya explained to the woman she barely knew. It was a foolish move; she could report it back to someone. But her feelings to Ivar were no valuable information to anyone. If she told it to Aslaug, the Queen would only talk to her. Vanya was in no danger telling Brynja about her situation. "When I was sent here, I begged my brother not to do it. I was worried my husband would kill me. So I ask you... Is my life in danger?"

Brynja took in a shake a breath and frowned deeply. "The Prince is mean; he isn't very fond of his brother Sigurd, and the Queen spoils him. But I don't think he would hurt you. Somehow you calm him. He isn't like he used to be before. It's not that obvious, but he is getting better. I think you should give him some time. Maybe talk to him."

Vanya nodded at the servant's advice and looked back at the lake, seeing flowers drifting in the lake. She smiled at the pretty things and stood up, surprising Brynja. 

The servant looked up at the Princess, who took off her shoes and lifted her dress. "What is your favorite flower, Brynja?" She tiptoed over to the edge of the lake and dipped her feet in before walking into the water.

"Princess! Get out of there!" Brynja warned fearing for her Lady's health from the cold lake. Yet Vanya ignored the worried shouts and walked to the flowers. When she realized that she couldn't pick the flowers while holding her dress, she dropped the skirt and plucked the pretty flowers. 

"Stop worrying, Brynja. Come on! What flowers do you like?" Vanya giggled a few Lily-of-the-valley flowers in her left hand as she walked closer to the coast to pluck more of the pretty flowers. 

Brynja smiled, watching the excited Princess enjoy herself; her white skirt floated around her as she walked over the bottom of the lake. She looked so serene and kind at that moment that marrying her to someone like Ivar seemed like a mistake. Yet the girl's good heart and patience were a plus for the youngest Prince. "Forget-me-not's, my Princess. I like purple flowers." 

Vanya chuckled at the information and gathered a few of those flowers in her hands, making a bouquet for her red-haired friend and servant. The lake was cold, but she could endure the chilly water until her task was done. She loved picking flowers back in the gardens of Slegia; the flowers were always put into a vase and on her father's table afterward. "Are you not bored with me, Brynja?"

Brynja shook her head at the question and watched the Princess make her way back to the shore. "Of course not, my Lady. I like serving you more than serving in the kitchen with the thralls."

With Brynja's help, Vanya crawled out of the lake and presented the curly-haired girl her findings. Brynja thanked her and put a forget-me-not into her hair, she also put one into Vanya's hair, complimenting the pretty Saxon on the look. The two girls left the lake in a good mood and went towards Vanya's and Ivar's room to change her wet dress. 

[capricornus-rex]

A Legacy Begun (9)

Chapter 9: A Padawan’s Trial | Cal Kestis x Reader

Summary: After a long time of running and fighting, you and Cal decided to finally settle down after all these years to raise a family. However, it was never a life of peace whilst the shadow of the Empire looms over your heads.

Prompt/s in play: Anon prompt (found in Chapter 1 link) + fic idea

A/N: Didn’t have the time to switch on my PS4 just to customize a saber lol so I went to saberforge.com and used their 3D Saber Builder instead. Here’s what i made for Cassidy Kestis’s saber!

Also posted in AO3

Tags: Scruffy! Cal Kestis, Daddy! Cal Kestis, Adult! Cal Kestis, Jedi Family, Jedi Offspring, Force-Sensitive Offspring, Settling Down, Rebel Alliance

Chapters: 1 – 2 – 3 – 4 – 5 – 6 – 7 | Previous: Part 8 | Next: Part 10 | Masterlist

9 of ?

1 BBY

Your slender fingers wove Cassidy’s bright, scarlet locks into tight, chunky braids. You hummed her favorite lullaby—a force of habit—as you secured the end of the braid with a band. She skipped towards the mirror hanging on the wall and let her fingertips glide over her hair.

“Is that how you like it?”

“Yes, Mommy, thank you!”

“You’re welcome, darling,” you received your thanks in full payment of a kiss and hug from Cassidy. “Go fetch your things now. Don’t forget your jacket, okay?”

“Okay!” she hopped down from her bed and started rummaging through her cabinets for stuff that she’ll bring in the trip.

You excused yourself and exited her bedroom, Cassidy was too excited to coherently reply to your permission. The ten-year-old’s heart was racing, her mind imagined so many things that could possibly happen, and she began visualizing what the place would look like.

Due to her excitement, she didn’t realize that she had taken a bit of her time in packing. She had gone through a raincheck of the contents of her backpack thrice now. She hastily slung the bag on her shoulders and snatched her crumpled poncho lying on a pile.

“Coming, Mom!” she announced, speeding out of her bedroom to join her parents at the door.

She slipped her both her hands into you and Cal’s hands, the three of you left your homestead and trekked towards the Mantis waiting a few meters away from the house.

The ship’s entry ramp unfolded, Cassidy lets go of your hands when you’ve reached a certain distance between the ship, her backpack bobbed up and down in every step as she ran towards the luxury cruiser.

“Aunt Cere! Aunt Merrin!” Cassidy squeaked happily, attempting to fit both women in her scrawny arms.

“Cassidy! Look how big you’ve gotten!” Cere chuckled, her hand patted Cassidy’s head and then hovered it to the empty space to emphasize the girl’s height.

“Any longer and you might just out-tall me—if that’s even a word!” Greez came in waddling into the scene. He had all four of his arms open for Cassidy and she gladly threw herself into them.

“I grew three inches this month!” she bragged, then proceeded to tease him by tussling the non-existent hair on his head to further establish her taking the lead in this height race she has with the Lateron.

The captain grumbled, uncertain to the crew whether he was joking around or is genuinely frustrated that the once-tiny Kestis kid is getting taller and taller each month. You and Cal eventually caught up with the crew, greeting each other with embraces and claps on the shoulders or backs.

“She’s quite excited,” Cere’s eyes rolled to the side, referring to Cassidy who was now busy checking out the terrarium.

“Yeah, let’s hope the entire ordeal doesn’t deter her,”

“She’ll be fine, [y/n],”

Revisiting the engine room and then spotting the lone white cot on the side brought back a lot of memories, it’s as though a long time has passed since you and Cal slept here. It had become an extra room since the three of you have made a home by the forest in Zera III.

You approached the now-empty workbench, you weren’t used to seeing it bare, having only the non-slip mat left—it was eventually returned to its former, cluttered glory when Cal settled the toolboxes specifically for this trip.

“Everything she’ll ever need is right here,”

“Where is she?”

“With Greez at the cockpit,”

“Oh no, is she pestering him to teach her how to drive?” the idea seemed rich, you’re already imagining the Lateron dealing with the redheaded handful that is your daughter.

Cal’s mockingly pensive look and a quick glance to the direction of the door meant “yes.” The two of you laughed among yourselves, Greez’s shouts from the cockpit amplified the comedy that was playing out in your heads. When the laughter died down, you surveyed the quarters.

“Is it just me or did this room just got narrower?”

“Feels pretty much the same to me,”

“Yeah, brings back memories,”

Cal leaned closer to you, his warm breath blew on your shoulder and the hairs on your nape pricked up.

“Oh yeah, which ones?” he purred suggestively.

“Very funny,”

He teased you some more, brushing away the hair over your shoulders to expose your neck for his lips to brush against.

“Cal, not while she’s here,”

“We can always lock the door—say it suddenly jammed,” he nibbled your earlobe as his hand searched for yours to intertwine with.

He continued to suckle your neck, a weak yelp escaped your throat—his eyebrows flicked up upon hearing it, his lips curled in satisfaction as he continued prod the tip of his tongue to the crook of your shoulder. Your arm began to move by itself, reaching for the railing as support—you knew what your body was trying to make you do, with your only weapon being your willpower, your hand gripped the edge of the table instead.

“Well? How about it, love?” he sniggered.

You didn’t know why it pained you to pull yourself away, just when your body was beginning to heat up. You twirled to face him, looked him in the eye and gathered the guts to tell it to his face.

“Might I remind you that we have our daughter on board,” you steeled your voice, when you saw the puppy eyes being deployed, you bit your lip and fiddled with the buckle of Cal’s armor. “But later—when she’s sound asleep.”

A glint in Cal’s eye shone brighter than the white dwarf star found in Zera III’s sky. Amused, you stood on the tips of your toes to plant a tender kiss on his lips. You playfully clapped his chest with both of your hands before walking out of the quarters.

You switched on the holotable and typed the coordinates of Ilum. The message reflected on Greez’s computer and he charted the Mantis to its course.

“Now en route to Ilum!” the Lateron captain announced.

The family lounged in the holotable couch, Cassidy knelt behind Merrin in an attempt to braid her platinum hair which has grown dramatically over time—the length had already reached the center of her spine—and bantered with her father.

“Hey Dad, did you and Mom go to the Gathering together when you were younger?” Cassidy finally secured the twisted braid with a pin fastened to the back of Merrin’s head.

You and Cal exchanged glances, something warranted your eyes to meet. Then Cal quickly turned back to his daughter who now sat beside him on the sofa.

“No, we didn’t, unfortunately,”

“Would’ve been great if you did!”

“Yeah,” Cal trailed off, then returned his glance to you, a rather shy smile traced along his lips. “It would.”

The Mantis’s speed had slowed down, indicating your arrival in the planet’s orbit. Cassidy rushed to the cockpit. In her excitement, she stood between the seats, leaning closer and closer until she gets a better view of the ice-white planet that filled the roundness of her black pupils.

“Whoa, kid! Settle down, we’ll get closer in a few seconds!” Greez grumbled, both amused and overwhelmed by the kid’s wild hybrid of enthusiasm and excitement—honestly, he couldn’t tell which of the two anymore.

“Cassidy, you’ll hit your head once we get atmospheric turbulence,” Cal softly scolded as he assisted in flying the ship.

Cal cautioned her to buckle up and she ran to the nearest seat she could find—the chair opposite of Cere’s. The Mantis quaked as it cut through the thick clouds and heavy sheen of the snowstorm. Greez knew exactly where to the land—in the same spot behind a rock wall against the direction of the wind.

The child hopped out of her seat and sprinted towards the quarters where she had stashed her backpack. She moved with such brisk in the same fashion that one would be in when the phrase “This is not a drill” rings in an alarm. She slipped into the beige poncho with dark grey sleeves which she inherited from Cal. Despite the height she prided herself with, the poncho’s length fell to her shins—had she been shorter, it would have been a robe!

It didn’t bother her though, for she knew that it would keep her extra warm. She popped out of the quarters, the flap of the poncho billowing as she waddled about excitedly.

“Where’s Mom?”

“She’s already in the Temple,” Cal took her hand and the blizzard’s air wafted into the ship, sending literal chills down everybody’s spine.

“Cassidy,” the child glanced over her shoulder to the call of her name. “May the Force be with you.”

She repaid the greeting with a smile and then headed out of the ship. The coldest wind to have ever existed blew onto her already-numbing face, specks of ice pricked her freckled cheeks, and snowflakes have already adorned the twists of her braids as they billowed in the harsh winter gale.

“This blizzard is just the beginning, Cassidy! But don’t let it discourage you,” her father lectured as they stamped through ankle-deep snow—in Cassidy’s case, it’s calf-deep.

Her arm shielded her eyes as she felt the hand of her father on the small of her back, guiding her through the trek towards the entrance of the temple. A great mound of snow, perhaps meters thick, divided Cassidy and her kyber crystal.

“There’s no way we’re getting through this path,” Cal hinted, indirectly urging her to think for herself.

Admittedly, she didn’t anticipate that she’d be challenged head-on this soon. This didn’t discourage the Padawan, she unstrapped her backpack and fished out her own pair of climbing claws—she punched the wall, driving the metal nails into the rock face caked with ice and snow, and started scaling upward.

“Attagirl,” Cal muttered under his breath.

He watched his daughter scale the ice wall, Cassidy had become more acrobatic and lithe with her movements—something that she has utilized greatly to her advantage as she grew up with her training.

The beads of sweat freeze over her pores the second they come out, the closer she got to the top of the ice wall, the heavier her body felt.

“No…! Not now, not when I’m so close!!” she growled through clenched teeth, tugging her one arm out of the wall and then burying the claws again a few inches above her head to hoist herself up.

Come on, Cassidy! Pull up!

She coaxed herself mentally, a stripe of frosted sweat dripped along her temples until she finally reeled herself upward, scuttling through the snow to bring her body to the flat surface. She spotted a pair of boots planted on the soil, when she shot her head up, it was Cal; apparently, she was too caught up in reaching the top of the wall that she didn’t realize her father had beaten her to it. But it wasn’t a race, this was a trial—a trial that she had to face alone.

“Good job,” the emotion in Cal’s voice had unusually become stricter, almost sounding like Jaro Tapal. “We’ll be expecting you inside.”

Without awaiting a reply from her, he disappeared into the opening of the wall—Cassidy followed him into that opening and found an empty room. Another spherical entryway was found in the opposite side of the chamber; easily enough, she figured out the pulley mechanism to trigger the lens to open up, pooling the wall with golden light.

Cassidy followed the path that led to the platform overlooking the main foyer of the temple. She finds both of her parents by the ledge—her mother sitting erect yet relaxed while the father stood tall and proud, their backs turned against another lens.

As the daughter approached, her eyes widened at the sight of the largest crystal she’s ever seen—suspended from the ceiling, at the center of it all, white fog swirled in front of her as she exhaled her gasp.

“Impressive, and to think the main path had been blocked,” you began without prompt, drawing the attention of the girl to you. “But in this temple, you’ll find trials more challenging than the last. Finding one’s kyber is easier said than done. This whole place will test your mettle. Not only will the Force guide you to your crystal, but it will try you—constantly. Your training and skills are your only tools through this obstacle. We will keep a close eye on you, but everything you have to do—you do it alone. You do understand this, don’t you, Cassidy?”

“Yes,” she stiffened her demeanor and steeled her voice. “Yes, Master.”

“Good. May the Force be with you, my child.”

You channeled the Force towards the pulley mechanism, the latch tore off from the port and the metal cover rumbled to reveal a beam of the same warm, golden light. Cal aligned the giant crystal to the light, reflecting and extending the ray of light to the archway that has been frozen solid by another wall of ice. The ice transfigured into water at the mercy of the warm light and then turned to mist the instant it crashed against the snow.

That was Cassidy’s cue. Her Gathering had begun.

Marching through that archway felt like going through a portal to another dimension. Stagnant, cold air wafting through her freckled cheeks was her greeting, and the chill of the cave was her host. The spaciousness of the cavern took her breath away, freezing her lungs as she inhaled and relished in the unforgiving beauty and mystery of Ilum’s ice caves.

Surveying the vastness that stretched in front of her, no sign of her would-be crystal yet. Her eagerness has betrayed her.

“Come on, Cassy, keep moving,” she coaxed herself.

Cassidy aimed the center of the caverns with her eyes, then carved a path on her own towards the inner conclave—with her objective in mind—and disturbed the snow with the soles of her boots. There was an invisible line that she followed—she believed that it was the Force guiding her; but while she’s grateful of the guidance, the anticipation of a challenge, of a test, dangled in the back of her mind.

A rather narrow stone bridge appeared before her. It was fragile—almost too fragile, in fact, that the slightest blow of wind made the rock crack and dust off tiny debris and snow. But on the other side of the beam was much more stable ground, she didn’t think that the sight of such would be so attractive.

“Only one way to find out,”

She puts one foot in front of the other, her pads of her toes touch the first inch, she cautiously brings the other foot next without putting too much of her weight; in a feathery grace, she stretches both her arms for balance as she treaded through the balance beam.

The sound of the bridge giving way was trying to discourage her, but with every light step she takes, she brushes away the thought. Not long enough, she’s made it to the end. Cassidy exhaled sharply upon her realization, but the stone was already crumbling beneath her feet, and so she sprang away a split-second before half of it collapsed, falling into the foggy abyss.

“Did you hear that?” you snapped from your meditation—a way of tracking where Cassidy probably is at the moment.

“She’s fine. I can feel her footsteps from here,”

“I know. But this could possibly be the first challenge she’s faced so far,”

At her arrival of the empty conclave, the statues—caked with snow and whose details have been eroded over time—welcomed her with their hands clasped together. Fascinated, she takes a step closer, examining their details and textures, looking past the snow that obscured their features. This conclave was also the center of a crossroads; each path seduced her with the same end goal, but what they don’t show her is what lies between the crystal and her.

Like any other youngling with the thrill of harvesting their kyber, she wasn’t thorough with her thought process. She’s unconsciously imposed a challenge upon herself when she began going in and out of each pathway. The longer she finds herself losing her bearings, her anxiety, frustration, and impatience combined became louder. The snow and the cold air delivered these emotions to you and Cal Kestis.

“Do you sense it, [y/n]?”

“Yes, so many,” you replied as-a-matter-of-factly. As tempting it might be, you restrained yourself from connecting with Cassidy through the Force.

Let her learn. Let her do this alone. You chanted to yourself, training yourself do what’s on your mind.

It felt like the air had formed ice inside Cassidy’s lungs by now, after running around in circles for a good chunk of time. Vexed, she kicked a wad of snow against the tip of her boots; her little tantrum had allowed her to blow off some steam and thought of her Plan B.

Feel, don’t think. Cassidy recalls the words of her mother.

Keeping herself grounded, she closed her eyes, and concentrated—just as you taught her. Through her mind, she entered each one and saw what they have laid—dangling the prize in front of her like bait to a fish—using her instincts, she assessed them one by one. The moment her eyes shot up, she knew exactly where to go.

Inside the tunnel, it was dim but at the corner of her eye, a mischievous twinkle played with her vision but she never doubted it. She knew what it was. Cassidy followed the gold spark until it revealed itself—hanging by the point of a stalactite like a droplet waiting to fall. A meters-wide gap separated her from the natural enclave where the crystal awaited her.

“That’s it. I know it!” she gasped.

Cassidy didn’t waste any time in heading towards the crystal that calls her. It was the only thing that filled her clear, dark irises. She proceeded to traverse the hostile terrain. Sprinting to her left side, the rock pillars became her stepping stones, bringing her ever closer to her objective. The ridge wall at the end of the path connected her to the enclave.

Due to her over-excitement, a jump done too soon nearly cost her life. Her own climbing claws had her literally hanging on for dear life. Her startled cry ricocheted between the icicles, the echo caused the icy chimes to jangle in a tone-deaf song, the wave of anxiety that sourced from the young Kestis girl alerted her parents.

“She’s found it,” Cal declared.

You could only imagine how Cassidy is holding up right now. That cry that the walls of the cave relayed a different message, but one thing is clear: she’s in the middle of a struggle right now, and she only has herself to depend on.

“Come on…” you mouthed, barely a noise parting from your lips.

Cassidy scaled the porous ice wall, digging the claws deeper through the layer of snow until she could hit something solid. Her arm hooked on the ledge, pulled herself up and squirmed farther away until she’s gotten her body on the ground. Her head angled up, the crystal glimmered so brightly like starlight that she had to blink away for a moment, and then returned her gaze to it afterwards.

Her legs dragged on, summoning herself towards the crystal. When she got close enough, the crystal nestled between her fingers and she gave it a good, quick tug. She let the yellow shard roll on the whole of her palm, her heart leapt and she felt the air in her lungs warm up. She exhaled until her breathing transitioned into a triumphant laugh.

“I got it…!” she annunciated.

The second half of the challenge was finding her way back. Seeing that some portions of the path that led her here were only a one-time use; she retraced her steps—except the stone bridge that gave way, she had to think of another way. Fortunately, she was able to improvise another bridge by Force-pushing a boulder on her left side—landing it into a clean incline for her to slide down on.

From there, things were now easy for Cassidy. She hiked the snow-caked path and found the archway from whence she came. The sight of the giant crystal in the foyer washed relief over the young one, she kept her head high in search of her parents. They appeared before her, proud smiles riddled their faces to welcome her back.

“Well done, Cassidy,” you beamed.

“You have found your kyber crystal, despite the challenges that the Force bestowed in your path. Now, it’s time for you to construct your saber.”

Her parents regrouped with her on the ground level, she followed them to the entry blocked by the mound of snow. You and Cal glanced over your shoulders, fixating your eyes on your daughter.

“Together?” Cal invited.

The child beamed, she tucked her knees and extended her arms—mimicking the posture of her parents—and mustered all the Force she could gather in her being to blast away the mound of snow that barred their exit.

The storm had subsided when they got back out in the open. The family returned to the ship, and they were greeted back by the crew members, Cassidy was especially excited to show off the tiny yellow shard that rested between her fingers. Cal beckoned her to the workbench in his old quarters and showed her the toolboxes filled with components.

“There’s so many to choose from! How will I know which one is the right one for me?”

“You meditate on it as you build, trust your feelings. The Force will help you,” he directed. “It will guide you to what is best for you.”

“Okay… I’ll try, Dad,”

“There’s a good girl,” he kissed her forehead. “I shall leave you to it now. May the Force be with you, Cassidy.”

First, she dug through the container of components. For each and every part she examined, she selected the ones that might have struck something in her, much like a magnetic force that attracted her to it. When it was apparent that she’s finished choosing the parts—from the sleeve down to the emitter—she laid them out in a neat, straight line one by one, with the kyber crystal at the center of it all.

She took a deep breath, relaxed her entire body and began reaching out to the Force for assistance. Even with her vision shrouded, the components moved to her whim—they fittingly connect with one another. Her crystal nestled underneath her switch, the sleeve and pommel latched together. When the final click came from the emitter, she opened her eyes and found the finished product lying in front of her.

Shaky hands cradled the completed hilt, her thumb trailed towards the switch—she hesitated for a second before pressing it—the yellow beam that hissed out of the emitter startled her, but she quickly smiled it off and stared at the golden glow of her very own lightsaber. Finally giving it a feel, she waved it carefully in the narrow space, it hummed to the motion of its owner and she fancied a single basic spin with it.

Her heart jumped with joy, butterflies fluttered all over her stomach, and she celebrated this victory within herself. She couldn’t keep her eyes off of the bright golden beam.

“I did it… I DID IT!!” she squealed from the room, not knowing that her entire family overheard her little celebration.

[thisbluespirit]

Writing Tag Game

AO3 name: thisbluespirit

Fandoms: my main fandom has always been Doctor Who but I feel v weird about it right now, so: Blake’s 7, Sapphire & Steel, Star Wars Prequels, Spooks (MI5), Once Upon a Time, and a whole load of random other things.

Tropes: honestly, if it seems like a good idea at the time, but accidental marriage, hurt/comfort, time travel, crack-played-straight, crossovers, canon divergence, and no doubt other things I’m forgetting right now.

Number of fics: 576 on AO3 (although there are a couple of vids and 1 podfic in there, plus a handful of fannish origfics, but OTOH there are things on Teaspoon I’ve never brought over and meme ficlets from LJ and Dreamwidth I’ve never posted elsewhere.  It’s such a ridiculous no. of works, even though there are quite a few drabbles and ficlets, that I wind up not posting the other drabbles/ficlets out of embarrassment.  Like, who has time to read 576 works, think of my Remix authors!)

Fic I spent the most time on: Ha, well, I took 9 years to finish one called Strangers at Fairhurst, but that wasn’t time spent writing it.  Probably gift fic for exchanges (and longfic generally for obvious reasons) - many of those took a lot of extra time and research and betaing and things, because, well, it’s a gift.  You want it to be special.

Fic I spent the least time on: Probably some of those meme ficlets, because a lot of them were flash fic so speedy writing was part of the point.

I wrote So We Meet at Last for fan_flashworks in about 30 minutes - and then at some point it got recced somewhere and it was my most popular fic for ages, so the moral of the story is don’t angst over stuff, just write Miss Marple dusting Dracula and the world will love you.

Longest Fic: On AO3, it’s The Poison Tree (Dracula 1968, written for calliopes_pen in Yuletide 2016), which makes it look as if I’ve never got to 30k, but ha ahahaha.  I’ve been ill since 2011.  Before that, I wrote an epic 1980s UNIT series, the final installment of which was 80K +

Shortest Fic: My shortest fic is a drabble, of which I have around 45 on AO3 and while the word count varies on AO3, they were all 100 words exactly in Word, so take your pick.

Most hits/kudos/comment threads/bookmarks: These tend to be exchange fic - by and large that’s the only way anyone knows I exist.  (I really miss LJ/DW comms, because a fic announcement on a relevant comm was a really good way to do that and modern fandom has no equivalent and then everyone gets tunnelled into ship tags, all alike.)

hits - Not bad For a First Attempt  (actually this might have taken the least time - it was a Heyer double drabble I wrote for, er, wrangling reasons.  I’m not sure whether this is true or the hit count has been skewed, but the kudos count is also high, so it might be. Desperate Heyer fans are desperate?)

kudos, comments, & bookmarks - are all The Spirit of St Mary Mead, a Yuletide fic where Miss Marple is a genius loci, which has now overtaken the one where she dusts Dracula.  (The universe only loves me when I write Miss Marple!!)

Total word count: 1,371,543 (which does also include c. 300,000 words of origfic for Runaway Tales, although it doesn’t inc. the c.200,000 words of epic 1980s UNIT adventures, so I suppose it’s only c.100,000 out.)

Favourite fic I wrote: argh, idk, I do like quite a few of them still, but it’s all so dependent on mood and how recent it was and if people commented or not (because if they didn’t, I was obv. wrong about the quality). 

I usually answer this with Salt of the Earth, and I suppose it’s as reasonable as anything else and very me.  It’s about Mrs Tyler from Doctor Who’s “Image of the Fendahl” and how her life went, living by a time rift, fighting evil with folk remedies and rock salt and being 100% better than Torchwood while making a lot less fuss about everything.  So I think it’s still one of the ones I like.

Fic you want to rewrite/expand on: I don’t want to rewrite anything!  I have moved on.  I’ve written a lot of canon divergence AUs since somehow falling into SW Prequels this year and I think there are a couple of those where I thought a lot about where else they might end up, although the moment may have passed, certainly while I’m exhausting myself on exchanges!

Share a bit of a WIP or a story idea you’re planning on: Oh, my main WIPs at the moment are for hurtcomfortex so I can’t.  But, other things:

I do have a work that I need to check over a bit but which is otherwise a complete draft, which is something I originally wrote for (I think) NYR 2017 but either I was too tired to run with it or I wasn’t sure the original recip would like it, but ANYWAY, it’s Department S and sort of Annabelle/Stewart/Jason but also not:

“Yes, well,” said Annabelle, putting the book down away from her work, “perhaps I would have done if I’d been home any time in the last forty-eight hours, but you asked me to feed Auntie half the London Phone Book to analyse.  I’ve been up all night dealing with the ensuing attack of indigestion.”

Stewart perched on the edge of the desk and leant over to kiss her cheek.  “Sorry for the inconvenience.  Any results?”

“Smith is still the most common surname by a significant margin,” said Annabelle and then put her hand to her head and slumped back in the chair.  “The rest is just gibberish, I’m afraid.”  She reached out for the Mark Caine novel.  “As is this, I imagine.”

Otherwise, I am hoping to be done with hurtcomfortex soon, write my AU meme ficlet prompts from my Dreamwidth flist, and then maybe do intobar because that’s always one of the most fun ficathons. 

And somewhere in my notebook I have a crossover drafted out for genprompt_bingo where Barry Allen meets Henry Mills, because I thought that’d be a thing that should happen once (probably pre-canon for OUaT).

But, you know, I need to finish typing up this stupid exchange fic that has gone LONG again and I don’t even know if the recip will even want it...  (I love exchanges, honest, but... :lol:)

tags: @pers-books @allegoriesinmediasres and um I think @captain-aralias did most of the other people I know.  @luthienebonyx maybe?

[turtle-steverogers]

Ralbert for #20 please?

hi i asked for these requests like a week ago and then ignored them til now so yeah

anyway this sucks, sorry.  

warnings: hospitals, implied suicide attempt, scars mentioned

ship: ralbert

word count: idk, a fair amount

-

20.  ...On a scar

“Pull in there.”

Albert frowned, pressing on the brake briefly and putting on his turn signal.

“Into...that train station?” He asked, turning a questioning eye on Race.

“Yes,” Race was staring pointedly out the front windshield, his eyes flickering over the parking lot wildly.  His hands were drawn in close to his body, nimble fingers fiddling anxiously with the buttons on his jacket.  

Albert pursed his lips, easing the car into the train station and cruising around the empty parking lot for a moment before pulling into a space.  

The train station itself was outdoors and held a strange sort of energy, the usually hectic vibe completely absent in the late hours of the night.  It was peaceful and if it weren’t for the events of that afternoon, Albert would have turned on some music and enjoyed the atmosphere.

“I owe you an explanation for earlier,” Race was speaking firmly, as if it had taken every ounce of willpower he possessed to talk.

Albert swallowed, glancing at him, but Race’s gaze never met his.  He was ashamed.

“If it’s too much…” Albert began.

Race shook his head, “No, I...I should.”

“Okay,” Albert nodded, “Yeah, what happened back there?”

Race took a deep breath, finally looking at him.

That Afternoon

“I think we need to get you to a hospital,” Albert murmured, kneeling in front of Race, who was sitting against a grimy brick wall, heading hanging low between his knees.  Blood was dripping smoothly from his nose and a gash on his temple, where glass could still be seen poking from the wound.

His eyes were screwed shut, pained hums escaping his lips every few seconds.  Apparently, picking fights with random assholes in bars wasn’t a good idea and might end up with one getting hit rather hard in the temple with a bottle, several times in a row.  Race swore he hadn’t blacked out for a couple seconds, because really, he hadn’t, but Albert wasn’t convinced.  Just like he wasn’t convinced that Race didn’t have a concussion.

Race’s state turned from barely conscious to wildly alert in a matter of seconds as his head whipped up at Albert’s words, eyes widening for a moment before scrunching up again.  Albert’s eyebrows furrowed, Race’s sudden change in demeanor sending a shocked pang through his chest- as if warning bells were ringing resolutely.

“No,” Race slurred, resting his head against the wall, “M’fine, Albie.”

“You’re bleeding from several places and probably concussed, I wouldn’t call that fine,” Albert reasoned, grabbing Race’s forearms and hoisting him up, much to Race’s dismay, “C’mon, there’s one a few blocks away.”

Race struggled in his grip, pulling away clumsily.  He opened his eyes completely, fixing Albert with an unsettling look, fear glistening just beneath the surface.

“No, Al, I don’t wanna,” he whined, taking another step back.

Albert frowned, shaking his head, “Race, it’s alright.  I’m sure you’re okay, I just wanna- whoa,” Albert stepped forward to steady Race as he swayed, head lolling for a moment, “Okay, yeah, we’re definitely getting you to a hospital now.”

“Don’t need to,” Race said, “Don’t want to.”

“Well, you don’t have a choice,” Albert said, a certain authority taking over his tone.

Race seemed to weak to fight it any further, and Albert held him upright as he hailed a taxi, knowing they were too far from their own car to walk.  Besides, the parking garage they’d parked in was in the opposite direction from the hospital.  

After a few minutes, a taxi drove up and helped Race in.  Race immediately rested his head against Albert’s shoulder and Albert watched as he covered his ears, no doubt to block out painful noise.  He was definitely concussed.  

When they arrived at the hospital, Albert tapped Race’s chin, reluctantly rousing him.  Race blinked his eyes open and he looked around, confused.

“Where’re we?” He asked as Albert unbuckled him, helping him out of the car.  Race’s head lifted and he winced when he took in the bright sign at the head of the hospital doors.  Immediately, his grip on Albert’s bicep tightened, “No, no, no.  I told you I’m fine,” he rushed out, turning to climb back into the taxi, but whimpering when he discovered it was no longer there.

He turned back to Albert, unadulterated panic in his unfocused eyes, “Please, Albie, don’t make me.”

Albert huffed, “Okay, but- shit,” he swooped forward to catch Race when his knees buckled, “Nope, okay.  I’m once again convinced that this is strictly necessary.”

They made it as far as the waiting room before Race tried to run for it again, fighting as fiercely as he could against Albert’s hold around him.  

“Race, stop,” Albert hissed, wrangling him into one of the crappy chairs and kneeling in front of him, “You need to- Race?”

Race wasn’t looking at him.  Instead, his eyes were transfixed intensely on a spot over Albert’s shoulder.  He was shaking violently, breaths coming out short and strangled and for a moment, Albert entertained the prospect of calling it a day and taking Race to urgent care in the morning.  But one hurried glance at the abrasion on his head cancelled those thoughts.  

“No, no, not again.  I don’t wanna do this again, not here.”  Race was mumbling hysterically to himself, hands finding their way to his forearms.  He gripped them tightly, tears making their way down his cheeks as he began to cry.

“Jesus, what’s gotten into you?” Albert mumbled, lifting a hand to brush away some stray tears, but quickly withdrawing it when Race jerked away from him violently.

“Higgins?” Albert cursed to himself when the nurse who had checked them in called them back.  Race was in no state to be looked at right now, but he was getting paler by the second.  From pain or panic, Albert didn’t know.

Race looked dazedly from the nurse to Albert, shoulders sagging, “M’gonna throw up,” he mumbled, lurching forward.

“Shit,” Albert bit out, turning to look for a trash can and humming thankfully when the nurse, who had been hovering nearby, handed him a plastic bag.

Albert held it in front of Race, wincing when his sick piled into the bag.  He retched for a few moments, sobbing uncontrollably as he did so.  Albert forced himself to remain neutral, speaking absent-minded comforts to Race as he finished.

“Let’s get him back,” The nurse said, making to help Race up.

Race pulled back, ignoring the nurse and looking at Albert, “Don’t make me,” he gasped, “Please, don’t make me.”

Albert and the nurse exchanged confused glances, a silent question between them.

Albert shrugged, turning back to Race, “Why?  Talk me through it, love.”

Race shook his head, “I- no.  No, just- don’t.”

Albert sighed, refusing to lose this battle, “It’ll be super quick.  In and out, right?”

The nurse nodded, “We just need to make sure there’s no serious damage.”

Race curled further in on himself, “Can we do it out here?” He asked, weakly, “don’t wanna go back.”

The nurse considered for a moment, “Alright.”

Present

“When I was in...tenth grade? Yeah.  When I was in tenth grade, I, uh, fuck,” Race looked to the side, clenching his jaw.  He open and closed his mouth a few times before swearing and turning his body to face Albert.  He kept his eyes down as he tucked one leg underneath him and held out his left arm, palm facing upwards.  He seemed to steel himself for a moment before sucking in a breath and slowly inching his shirt up.  

Albert’s eyes traveled from Race’s face to his arm and he swallowed, the blood draining from his face.  Starting at his wrist and traveling to the middle of Race’s forearm was a long, vertical white line.  The skin was raised, and although the scar itself had faded, the outline was stark and jarring against Race’s smooth skin.  Oh.

Race heaved in a breath, “It didn’t work, obviously,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.  Albert watched him intently, waiting for him to continue, “And when it didn’t, of course I had to go to the ER…” he trailed off, lost in thought, “Worst night of my life.  Ever.  Swore to myself as they stitched me up that I’d never fucking go back.”

“Race I…” Albert felt numb, scared, unsure of what to do.  In place of words, he reached down and carefully lifted Race’s arm, pressing his lips to the scar.  

Race held his breath as Albert sat back up, “I’m so sorry you went through something like that and I’m sorry that I put you back there today.”

Race seemed as a loss for words, glistening eyes moving from his arm to Albert.  Albert’s fingers skimmed down to clasp their hands together tightly.

“Today was scary for you, I know,” he said, gently, “But I promise to keep you safe,” he squeezed their hands together, “and if there’s anything I can keep, it’s my word, right?”

Race nodded, squeezing back, “Right.”

-

mmm yeah my writing ain’t the best in this lol

i’ll try and get the other requests that i abandoned done soon

thanks for reading, chiefs

hmu to be added to my tag

TAG LIST:

@bencookisagod

@we-dont-sell-papes@suddenly-im-respecsable

@aw-jus-let-em-try @well-the-kids-do-too@spot-conlon-king-of-brooklyn @felix-loves-albert-and-ralbert@axolotlwhizzy

@andthewoildwillknow@the-newsies-justice-for-zas-blog@sunshine-e-cigarettes @have-we-got-news-for-you@musical-shitposts@thebroadwayaesthetic

@thomasbeingthomas

@irondad-spiderson-duo

@snakesarenonexistent

@i-got-no-clue-what-im-doing

@kpop-kk

@mentallytiredgoat

@yxseminx

@be-more-chill-evan-hansen

@stopthe-presses

@elmers-half-a-cup

@and-i-lostmy-shoe

@spot-me50-papes

@honeynutpoptarts

@newsies-ensemble

@bennie-badeend

@auspicioustarantula

@faithmil

@hopefully-not-the-ghostbusters

@bxnesof92

@backgroundnewsies

@sure-as-a-star

@skybert-daherty

@eveningpaper

@malex-13

@albert-eats-cookie-cake

@heart-a-n-o-n

@bitching-newsboys

@orollyitsracetrackhiggins

@joshuaburrageenthusiast

@random-superhero-stuff

@awkwardstranger98

@falling-out-trees-101

@modern-race-owns-airpods