#reckless things concerning her. if she didn't hate me for doing that then she shouldn't hate me for doing this either

[meezer]

a combination of meme formats where it's the patrick bateman "I have to return some video tapes" and the guy saying "I want to [X]. but I don't/won't"

I have to send an email. but I won't.

[crazyyluvr]

Could you do like a Jason Grace x gf!reader where the reader and him get into a small argument so they end up competing in opposite teams during capture the flag, to sort of avoid eachother, but the reader gets injured during the game and jason is super worried, and they make up afterwards? Gosh im sorry if this is too specific, I just thought I'd be cute haha

Stop Being Nice to Me, I'm Supposed to be Mad at You

pairing: jason grace x gf!reader

summary: in which Jason gets in an argument with you before a Capture the Flag game and you end up avoiding each other... until you get injured, and Jason couldn't let the previous argument stop him from checking up on you.

wc: 1.9k

content: argument, she/her pronouns, set in camp jupiter with some made up characters, jason and reader are in different cohorts for plot purposes, reader uses a spear, reader is a cohort leader

note: i’m so sorry that it took me so long to do this anon, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless!

short oneshot under the cut :: not proofread

"You —" Jason started, but stopped himself when he noticed that his tone was getting too aggressive. "You could have gotten worse injuries, both you and the newbie."

You sighed, rubbing your temples for the nth time that day. "I know, okay? I dealt with the situation before it could escalate."

You were on patrol with a fellow probatio cohort mate the night before, and an enormous warthog suddenly appeared, wanting to ram the entrance to camp.

You, of course, had to cover for your cohort mate's ass by pushing them out of the way to avoid the warthog's tusks. Your arm almost got skewered in the process, but the fight ended in your favor — a fight that consisted of you screaming bloody murder in the warthog's face and pushing the newbie out of the way constantly before they could get murdered by the large animal.

The only wound you got from that fight is a cut on your cheek. It wasn't that bad, but the fact that it was on your cheek (which is full of blood), it caused quite a red waterfall.

The cut was almost healed by now, the white patch of bandage on your cheek just a precaution to fight off infections. But of course, Jason took it upon himself as your boyfriend to worry excessively over your wellbeing.

Speaking of Jason, he wasn't satisfied with your previous answer. "Either way, you shouldn't have compromised your safety like that. You may have killed the monster before it could get worse, but that still doesn't change the fact that you could have died."

"But I didn't, because I dealt with it," you scoffed. One thing you hated was when people treated you as if you couldn't take care of yourself. You've been able to support yourself on your own for a good while before you discovered Camp Jupiter and got claimed by your godly parent.

You appreciated the blonde boy's concern, but that doesn't change the fact that he thought that you were reckless. I mean, yeah, you kind of were, but that's besides the point.

Jason opened his mouth to protest further, but a horn blaring in the distance interrupted him.

"Hey!" Someone called your name, and you were grateful to have an excuse to look away from Jason's intense blue stare. "We have to strategize for Capture the Flag. You're leading us, remember?"

You spared one last glance at Jason, whose expression was clear: we aren't done. You scoffed again, turning back to your cohort mate — Paul, you think his name was — who happened to be the probatio you were on guard with last night.

"Okay, I'll go with you," You responded, jogging away from Jason. You could feel the heat of his glare at the back of your head, but you couldn't bring yourself to care all that much. Capture the Flag was a fairly new game in camp, but that didn't stop it from rising in popularity from how you could be as violent as you want as long as you don't severely hurt anyone.

It was the perfect opportunity for you to let out some steam.

"Did I interrupt something?" Paul asked, worried that he had upset Jason, the son of Jupiter and one of the strongest demigods in camp.

You shook your head. "No, it's fine. Let's just get this show on the road, yeah?"

Paul nodded, the nervousness on his face fading but not entirely as you both jogged towards the assembly of cohorts in the hall.

Reyna, one of the camp's praetors, started the briefing. "Cohorts one and four will go against cohorts two, three, and five."

The people in your cohort — cohort four — groaned at the disadvantage they were given, making Reyna put her hand up to silence them. "We drew lots, so those who got the shorter stick have to utilize everyone they have to turn the odds towards them."

You cracked your knuckles, your fingers itching to get your hands dirty. Your trusty Imperial Gold spear was strapped onto your back, and you were impatiently waiting for the opportunity to bring it out.

Reyna went on with the usual warnings of no killing and maiming, which made you zone out. You felt eyes on the back of your head again, but you ignored them, knowing that it was Jason's doing. You weren't going to give him the satisfaction of eye contact with him.

"Good luck, and let the games begin," Reyna concluded, making the people around you roar and bang their weapons together.

They all jogged out of the hall. The ten minutes of preparation had begun, and you along with James from the First Cohort led your big group into the building that was constructed the night before just for today's Capture the Flag.

"We're based here, while the other group is based in the forest," James said. "They outnumber us, but we have the higher ground."

"Three teams," you continued. "A group of three at most to get the flag, a big group to distract the other group on their home turf, and a small squad here to guard the flag."

"We're spreading ourselves pretty thin," James noted, sounding worried. "Are you sure about this?"

You nodded. You mulled this over in your head while Reyna was briefing them all on safety precautions a few minutes ago, and you're confident that this is a good strategy. "We put Halley and Taino as part of the people left behind here. You and me will infiltrate with one other person. The rest... cause some mayhem."

"Alright, you heard her! Let's go win this!" James roared, charging out of the building with you by his side, your other teammates' footsteps thundering behind you, cheering as they ran. You all moved as one big group, all of you trained to move coordinately and orderly even in something as messy as war.

Let the game begin, you grinned.

—————

Capture the Flag ended in your team's victory, thanks to you and the probie coming in clutch and swiping the flag while running away from Hannibal the war elephant.

However, one of the children of Vulcan had left an experimental trap that you unknowingly fell into, leading to your only major injury during that game.

Twelve pins sticking into your leg was not how you envisioned this game to end, but hey, at least you won, right?

Paul the probie was the one who escorted you to the infirmary. It seemed he was feeling guilty about your patrol shift the night before and how you kept having to cover his ass and wanted to return the favor somehow.

"I'm fine," you repeated yourself once again to the Apollo kid who looked at your leg in concern. Too much concern in your opinion. "It's just a few pins."

"That were basically shot into your leg," The Apollo kid retorted, shaking their head and sighing. "Those Vulcan kids got some nerve to put an unstable trap in a game. You could have gotten worse injuries if those pins landed anywhere else. If worse came to worse, you wouldn't be able to use your leg again if they hit the wrong spot."

You shrugged. "But they didn't, so let's just be grateful and get them out of my leg, yeah?"

The Apollo kid started the process, with you occasionally groaning in pain as they pulled pin after pin out of your thigh. After the fourth pin, the infirmary doors slammed open, revealing a winded blonde, purple camp shirt slightly tattered after the Capture the Flag game around half an hour ago.

"I — I heard what happened," Jason said, his voice breathy with exhaustion, like he ran all the way there. “Are you okay?”

You observed him blankly before turning your head away slightly to cut the eye contact with him. The annoyance you had felt towards him didn’t quite cool down yet. “I'm fine. Not like there’s needles in my leg or — anything.”

The last word came out strained as the Apollo kid pulled out two needles at the same time. Your body jolted unexpectedly at the sudden pain.

“Grace, keep your girlfriend still, will you?” The Apollo kid retorted, not even bothering to look up from their work to address the son of Jupiter properly. “She’s twitchy.”

Jason took a few more steps towards you, but he hesitated. He knew you were still angry at him, but he wanted to help you. He wanted to do anything to relieve you of the pain you were in right now, no matter how many times you'd say that you were "fine" or that the pain was "bearable."

Jason looked at you, silently asking you for your consent. You sighed, looking away again, but the expression on your face was calmer than how it was before. The blonde boy took it as a sign to continue, gently placing his hands on your shoulders.

Now that there was someone restraining you, the child of Apollo showed no mercy. They started pulling pins out consistently, going as fast and as careful as possible so you don’t bleed out.

“Oh shit,” you winced, a hand instinctively going up to clutch Jason’s wrist tightly as you tried to bear with the pain while making as little noise as possible.

Jason did his job well, keeping his hands firm to prevent you from flinching too hard. His own face was slightly contorted, like he felt your pain too.

Well, maybe he did. Spiritually…?

The last of the damned needles was dropped into the metal container with a clang. “Alright, now I can bandage.”

Even though it was no longer necessary, Jason didn’t let go of you. His hold on you became more gentle, but his hands remained on your shoulders, as yours remained wrapped loosely around his wrist.

Despite your (now lesser) anger towards him, you appreciated his presence. Him just being there was enough for your heartbeat to steady, your breaths to even. That was the kind of effect only he had on you.

“Done,” The Apollo kid exhaled, snipping the bandage. They stood, stretching. “I’m gonna leave you two here, but Grace, don’t let her leave. I’m not discharging her until later.”

Without another word, they slipped away, leaving you alone with Jason.

Jason finally let go of you and slowly sank into the chair beside you, studying you with attentive and concerned eyes. You found yourself missing the warmth from his palms. “How are you feeling?”

You shrugged. “Fine. The pain is bearable.”

Jason nodded. He fidgeted with his golden coin, sliding it along his fingers.

When he finally gathered the courage to say what he wanted to say, he looked up at you and held your gaze. “I want to apologize for my behavior earlier today. I don’t doubt your ability to protect yourself, but I just… worry about you.”

You exhaled, smiling slightly at him. The warmth reached your eyes. “I appreciate the concern, and don’t worry about it. I’m just petty sometimes that I hold grudges against the most worthless things.”

“But I love you anyway,” Jason chuckled, genuine love dilating his pupils and stretching his lips to a grin.

You laughed, looking at him softly. Your thigh was throbbing, your head felt funny from a small headache, but your heart soared because of the blonde boy you grew to care for more than you cared for anything and anyone else. “And I love you for loving me anyway.”

[yujeong]

For a writing prompt, how about Pete and his grandmother, post-canon? It could be Vegas/Pete + Macau + Pete's grandmother as well or any combination you want ^_^

I wonder how his grandmother would react to seeing a Pete she both knows and one who has been changed. How would Pete walk the line between the truth she deserves to know and the pain he wants to preserve her from? There are so many unique tensions between them that I'd love to see you explore <3

My beautiful friend, how kind of you to send me this prompt ❤️ Pete and his relationship with his grandma has occupied my thoughts many, many times, so this is an incredible chance to explore them. You already know this, but for the rest who will read it, the following will be part of a bigger fic I intend to write someday, which I had presented briefly here: aka, Pete will be teaching Vegas boxing post-canon, despite both of their better judgements. Here, Pete's grandmother finds out about it 😌 It's a very rough draft and very incomplete, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless 🥰 ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ "Pete, dear, you're adding too many peppers." The pan made a sizzling sound when he added the fifth pepper into the mix, ignoring his grandma's comment. "Don't worry, grandma. It's fine. It's not too spicy," he said, adding another one just because. He heard a deep sigh coming from the laptop placed on the counter next to him. A smile appeared on his lips. "For you and me it isn't, but you know how the city boys are." "I know," Pete agreed, "I'm preparing this for them. Macau will be fine, he's taken this as a challenge." "That young man and his bravado," his grandma sighed again. "Sometimes, I worry he'll get himself into real trouble one day." "You and me both, grandma," Pete said and shook his head at the memories that resurfaced. It couldn't really be described as sadness, this feeling that overtook him. More like fondness mixed with melancholy. Macau had been through a lot this past year and Vegas' recklessness lately was making it worse. Not that Pete could exactly blame him for it.

"Pete, the temperature is too high, lower the heat a bit," his grandma suddenly said, snapping him out of his thoughts. It was fascinating how she could understand these things without being able to see the meal being prepared. Pete had placed the laptop at an angle that only showed his torso and the kitchen table behind him, his face hidden completely from view. If he did that on purpose, it simply couldn't be proven in any way. He slowly turned the dial to lower the temperature as he was told, then stretched his arm to grab a wooden spoon with which he started scraping the bottom of the pan, making sure the mix wouldn't get burned. "Hm, I think it's almost done, it only-" "Pete." He stopped talking. He knew that tone. He had made a mistake. "Show me your hands." Fuck. She saw the marks. "I'm cooking grandma, what-" "Stop what you're doing and show me your hands right now." He tried not showing his discomfort as he lowered the heat even more and presented his open palms to the screen. He could see his grandma's wrinkled face, her frown deep and concerning. This was going to be hell. Pete tried avoiding showing his knuckles, but it was impossible; she insisted on seeing every single part of Pete's hands. He always hated when she did that. "Have you started boxing again?" Pete was so thankful she couldn't see the expression on his face. He wasn't sure he would be able to hide the dread he was feeling as he heard the question. "It's just some light exercise, grandma," he said and hoped his voice wasn't betraying him. "Vegas just wanted to be more active and-" "Vegas made you start boxing again?" Another mistake. Pete shouldn't have mentioned Vegas at all, he was such an idiot. He hoped Vegas would understand, when he found out. "Vegas didn't make me do anything." It wasn't a lie. It had been Pete's choice. He had made a lot of those recently. "Pete," his grandma said again, but this time, instead of angry, she sounded sad. Concerned. "If you need money, maybe you could talk to Mr. Tankhun. He could give you your old job back or find you a new one." "I won't fight," Pete yelled, feeling his blood boil at the mention of his old boss. He checked himself before continuing to speak, making sure he sounded unbothered. "Grandma, I won't do any matches. I'm simply teaching Vegas some basic moves and that's it." "Show me your face." A pause. "What?" "I need to see your face, Pete." His heart was thumping in his ears. He didn't want to be seen right now. He almost said so, before an energetic Macau entered the room and addressed him. "P'Pete, what are you making? Oh hi, grandma!" He ran over to the counter and lowered his body to see her clearly. Pete could tell she wasn't happy she lost the chance to see Pete's face, but she hid her displeasure immediately and smiled brightly at Macau, asking him how his day had been so far and if he had any plans for the rest of it. Pete internally sighed and returned to his cooking, his hand trembling as he was scraping the bottom of the pan with a little more force than necessary.

[lostintra]

it didn't seem she understood that respect worked both ways, quite a few clients didn't. a lot of people treated guards like just the help or an attack dog shown no gratitude until shit hits the fan and even then they didn't really get rewarded. that being said hasan for the most part valued his job, but others like this one he questioned if it was worth it. he was tying his life to a woman who had little concern for her own and embittered from a familial feud he had no control over which only heightened her recklessness. "have you stopped to think about why you aren't dead? do you think that was just a magical coincidence? the stars aligned in your favor?" his eyes narrowed as she took her place on the couch.

dropping his bags unceremoniously he followed standing before her once again. the patience he had for her attitude clearly worn thin. "you hate me because you think i've been put on your ass like some sort of dog collar, but you are the one who fucked this up not me. i tried to let you have your space because i get it, you're a grown ass woman who shouldn't need a group of men like me breathing down your throat all day just to run errands or see a friend. i can see now though why you need a babysitter because giving you the grace enough to be an adult was a mistake. that's where i fucked up." he crouched down so they would be eye level even if it was a risk to however she would choose to react to his words. "i've got blood on my hands for you that's why i wasn't replaced so maybe you should show me a little respect cause the thing about stepdads is that no matter how many times you kick and scream 'you're not my real dad' and throw tantrums all day long they're the ones sticking around. putting up with all your shit and looking out for you still when your real dad won't. the man sitting in his stone castle isn't going to be taking a bullet for you, but i will. there's your reminder."

this was cruel joke, elisa knew it was. there was no other answer than her father trying to punish her by moving in hasan into her place. she was beyond fuming over being told. that was the issue with her father, he never discussed anything with her. it was what he said went. there was no if ands or buts about it. she had fucked up and now she was being punished. though that wasnt really how it was all playing out. elisa had fucked around and almost got killed. her father was thinking of her safety but eli refused to see it that way. "if i am going to be forced to live with you then you will respect me.. starting with this is my house so don't insult me under my own roof. but you still work for the Mescal household.. and last time i checked my last name is still mescal." she warned him as she let go of his suitcase.

having him here made her stomach hurt, it wasnt his fault, he was only ding his job. however she hated being treated like a child. was this going to be her whole life going forward? having a bodyguard until she died? she sure hoped not. "well daddy is mad and not talking to me and seeing how you are here that makes you stepdaddy. and as stepdaddy you can gladly fuck all the way off and literally like pitch a tent outside." she mocked him back. "why does this have to happen to me? maybe if you were better at your job i wouldnt have snuck out and we wouldnt be in this position. remind me why my father moved you in with me instead of replaced you?" she asked moving back to the couch grabbing he wine. she was no match physically to him .

[heloisedaphnebrightmore]

Open your eyes [Bucky Barnes x Reader]

Title: Open your eyes Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Female!Reader Word count: 5.8k Published: 23 May 2021 Author: Heloise Daphne Brightmore Notes: My first Bucky fic, so go easy on me :D Warnings: Stabbing, shooting, injury, typical avengers stuff Summary: It’s been over two years since you met Bucky and slowly but steadily you grew closer to each other to the point where you started developing feelings for him. It seemed you were on the right path to maybe establish more than a friendship, but that was until he decided to push you away without an explanation.

Marvel Characters Masterlist | Masterlists

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You were running across the metal bridge of the submarine, trying to get to the engine room when you caught sight of a Hydra agent. You could have left him; you could have shot him. Either way you could have just followed the order you have been given and head to the engine room. But it was boring and at times you found recklessness more fun than to just follow orders that didn't satisfy your playful needs. As though you were a cat, you jumped from the bridge lending on the lower level, barely causing any sound that would be out of the ordinary. A proud smile appeared on your face as you sneaked up behind the man and tapped his shoulder. He turned around in a quick movement, gun pointing right at your chest.

"Well, hello pretty boy," you smirked, your tone inviting and flirtatious, causing the man to smile at you as though he lost focus of his mission. "It's a shame that you have to leave so soon," you chuckled, a devilish tone to your voice. His eyes widened as you grabbed his gun, pointed it upwards and stabbed your knife into his flash, a silent scream escaping his lips, before his body landed on the floor.

"Is this really necessary," Bucky appeared on the deck above you, jumping down to your level as he rolled his eyes.

"Is the big Bucky Barnes jealous?" You snickered. You knew he would never admit it, but you were more than just a fellow colleague of some sort.

"No?" He replied, though it was more of a question than a stern statement. "I just don't think all these little games of yours are unnecessary," he added quickly, trying to change the subject as he always did.

"Come on, Barnes, let me have fun," you groaned. "I like to play with my toys," you offered him a mischievous smile as you stepped closer to him, your chest flush against his. You felt his heartbeat quicken, his breathing turning shallow as your lips grazed across his. His light blue eyes usually held kindness behind them, but as a darker shade took over, you could feel his lust surface. "You could be one of them if you didn't play hard to get," you bit on your bottom lip as you jabbed your knife under his arm right into the man's stomach behind him. "I would treat you better though," you chuckled as you stepped back, swiftly pulling your knife out of the man. Bucky looked over his shoulder, his attacker lying across the metal floor. "You're welcome," you winked at him as he shook his head and rolled his eyes, but you didn't miss the tiny smile in the corner of his lips and the barely visible pink tint spreading across his cheeks.

"You know you could do all this without being too dramatic, right?" He asked, heaving a heavy sigh.

"What would be the fun in that?" You laughed, leaving the man behind, and heading towards the engine room.

It took you a couple of bruises and scrapes to get through the heavily protected area, but with Bucky's help you finally found yourself surrounded by the submarine's engines. "We are here, what now?" Holding onto your earpiece, you waited for a reply from someone who understood physics more than you did.

"There are two wheels, one on each engine," you heard Tony's voice and you started looking for the objects, walking around the gigantic metal machines surrounding you. "They look like circles," he added, earning a loud groan from you.

"Just because I don't understand engines, it doesn't mean I'm stupid, old man," you huffed, a silent chuckle leaving Bucky's lungs. "Do you think something's funny?" Your head shot back around; a deadly gaze directed at the man.

"Considering you have walked past the wheels twice already—" he snickered without finishing his sentence as he watched your face turn confused before a sharp exhale left your lungs.

"I hate both of you," you groaned as you stomped back towards one of the wheels, whilst Bucky grabbed the other one. As hard as you tried, yours didn't even move an inch, and whilst Bucky had his vibranium arm, even he was struggling with the jammed object. "You can barely turn it with your god-like powers, how am I supposed to move it?" You huffed as you watched him struggle. "Can't we just blow it up?" You asked somewhat trying to joke around, but partially being serious.

"No!" You heard Rogers' panicked voice. "No smashing, no blowing, nothing that could cause bigger damage," he instructed you in a firm tone.

"Fine!" You huffed. "You are boring," whining, you finally concentrated back on the wheels, but it didn't want to budge.

"Move," Bucky said as he stepped beside you and peeled your hands off the wheel.

"What a gentleman," you snickered, placing a hand on his shoulder. "There are a couple of other things in my room you could help out with," you chuckled as a loud, throaty groan left his lungs. It was a mystery if the sound was caused by your words, the hard work he was putting into moving the wheel or both for that matter. But either way, you loved riling him up.

"We are good," Bucky spoke in his earpiece as the submarine started moving again, causing you to unsteadily stumble back, before Bucky wrapped his arm around your waist and caught you. His gaze fell on you, watching you intensely, almost as though he was studying you. "Why are you doing this?"

"I'm not sure what you mean," you replied with an innocent expression. "As far as I'm concerned you are the one holding me," your gaze turned to his arm, still wrapped around you strongly. As much as you wished to smile, you had to stop your facial muscles from forming a smile and giving you away. He quickly let go of you and heaved a heavy sigh.

"There's always a double meaning to your sentences, always telling me suggestive things, always flirting with me," he exhaled sharply.

"I thought I made myself very obvious," you chuckled, trying to mask how awkward you felt having to say what you felt out loud. "I like you, Barnes," his eyes widened at your words, but he quickly composed himself, as though a part of him already knew it.

"You can't keep thinking about things like this when we are busy trying to just survive missions after missions," his tone was commanding as if he was telling you to stop your feelings at all costs, but his gaze seemed different. It was soft and caring, the complete opposite of his words.

"The world is always in a war, it's inevitable. And even if I tried, I would not be able to just put a stop to my feelings. You know damn well that's not how it works," you scoffed.

"Well, you have to learn then. I'm over 100 years old, I could be your grandfather," he argued, earning a deep frown from you.

"James Buchanan Barnes, are you trying to make up excuses?" You asked as you folded your arms in front of your chest. "Because it sounds like you are trying to convince yourself why you shouldn't have feelings for me."

"I don't have time for this little game of yours," he replied sternly as he started heading back to the control room. You pulled a face, grimacing at the man, sulking in a child-like manner. "Just because I don't see you, it doesn't mean I don't know about the faces you make," he let out a silent chuckle, earning a confused look from you.

"God, you freak me out sometimes," you huffed as you followed in his steps.

"Can you two please stop flirting and get back?" Stark spoke up in your earpiece, earning an annoyed huff from you. Silently, you both headed to the upper deck to meet the rest of the crew, finally getting rid of Hydra on the ship, and stopping them from taking over the submarine.

It took another 5 hours for you to get back to the compound, but when you finally did, you dropped down on the couch in the lounge, exhaling deeply, feeling your body relax on the soft sofa.

"Some space would be nice," Natasha spoke standing beside the couch with a small smile and a questioningly raised brow.

"Just so you see how generous I can be," you smirked proudly and sat up, offering her the other side of the sofa.

"Very much so," she chuckled, but it quickly died down as Tony asked for your attention.

As usual, he talked about the efficiency and effectiveness of the mission and team performance and by the time he finished you were about to take a nap on Natasha's shoulder, drifting into a short slumber. But you couldn't sleep just yet as you felt her shoulder move, silently shaking you awake. You offered her a deadly gaze, before you realised everyone was already gone.

"Oh, we're done?" You asked as you looked around and stretched your back, standing up from the sofa. Natasha nodded in response and ushered you to head to your room, suggesting you didn't look too well which earned a grimace from you.

You attempted to rest and try to finally have a good night sleep, but unfortunately after hours of rolling and groaning you gave in. However you tried, you just couldn't get yourself to sleep and it left you frustrated. You wished to be able to control your mind and forget about certain things whenever you wanted, but unfortunately you couldn't do that, and it always left you with one particular person on your mind.

James Buchanan Barnes.

You were wary of him at the beginning, he was the Winter soldier after all, and you have heard and seen what he was capable of. But the trust Steve put in his friend pushed you to give him a chance too and you never regretted it. When you finally got closer to him and he opened up to you, talking about his past, you couldn't possibly imagine how he could keep himself in one piece. The pain, the trauma, the memories that haunted him scared you, even though you weren't the one living them all over again.

But somewhere along the line, you fell for him. You tried to spend more time with him and at first, he seemed interested, you were there for each other whenever in need, but something has changed. That night played in your head over and over again, hoping to understand what went wrong, but you couldn't find the solution.

You were seated on his bed, leaning against the headboard as he placed his head on your lap. Caressing his hair gently, playing with his long locks always soothed his worries and you hoped he would feel better. Sometimes you weren't sure how to make him feel better, so you did what you always did, listened to him.

"I— I can just hear their screams, the last terrified look in their eyes, the realisation that— that they are about to die," his voice was shaking as he stumbled across his words. You ran your fingers across his hair, removing the escaped locks from his face. "All these memories are coming back, and I just— I just don't know what to do," a heavy sigh left his lungs, as though trying to get rid of all the horrible memories.

"It's not your fault, you are not responsible for it. You weren't in your right mind, Bucky, they were controlling you" you tried to sooth his worries, but it didn't seem to work. He shook his head, another throaty sigh escaping his lips.

"But it was me. Regardless of not being in control of my own mind and body, it was still me," he groaned as sat up, looking into your eyes. Placing a hand on his cheek, you caressed his stubbly face, hoping it would calm him down. He tilted his head into your palm, enjoying the feel of your warm touch, but then he turned away and abruptly stood up.

"Hey, are you okay?" You asked as you stood up from the bed and walked up behind him, placing your hands on each of his shoulders, squeezing them reassuringly.

"I think you should leave," he spoke, but his gaze didn't meet yours again. He avoided looking at you and even though you wanted to object, you understood he needed space.

However, that space was standing between you for the past 3 months. You were understanding and supportive, knowing of his past it was inevitable that he needed to think things through, but you were tired of waiting. It's been 2 years since you fell for the man and it didn't help that he was always close to you physically, but never enough to be able to touch him mentally. You knew he wasn't indifferent towards you, there was an invisible connection between the two of you, but he clearly avoided you and paused whatever was going on before he decided to keep his distance. You tried to keep your cool and act as though it didn't affect you, but as time passed, it started to become hard to put on a brave face.

Shaking your head, trying to get rid of your thoughts, you jumped out from your bed. Attempting to cool yourself down, you headed to the kitchen to grab something to drink, your throat feeling as though it was covered in cotton.

"Can't sleep?" Rogers' spoke as he stepped inside the kitchen, watching you take out a bottle of water from the fridge.

"Not really. I'm guessing you are struggling too," you raised a brow, earning a nod from the man.

"I'm glad we can't sleep. I meant to talk to you," he spoke as you took a quick chug of your water, a questioning expression painted across your face.

"What about?" You asked with a deep frown. It wasn't often that Steve and you had anything to talk about unless it was to do with a mission. "If you plan to scold me for my behaviour today, just save it," you added, already prepared for his nagging.

"Actually, it's not about that. It's more of a personal matter," he replied as he took a seat at the dining table, pulling out the chair beside him to offer you a place to sit. You furrowed at the subject matter; personal subjects weren't your thing after all.

"What did I do?" You asked cautiously, earning a silent chuckle from Steve.

"Nothing, I just wanted to talk to you about Bucky," he spoke as your eyes widened in surprise. "I'm not blind, none of us are and your little conversation today didn't go unnoticed," he pointed at his ear. You felt your cheeks warm up as you realised, they have all heard your confession. Scrunching your nose, you awkwardly cleared your throat and whispered an apology. "No, no, don't apologise, please, it's fine. But it made me want to talk to you even more."

"I know you are Bucky's best friend, but I don't think we should have this discussion," you chuckled awkwardly, uncertain of how to react.

"I agree and I don't want to go into details. He is a very good friend of mine and it's not my place to talk about him with you, but I thought it would be important to tell you that since you have been around, he has changed. I know he doesn't show it well, but he cares for you. He just needs time to understand himself and you and the situation you are in," he explained with a soft smile.

"Do you think I don't know? I see how he looks at me, I see how he behaves around me. The little things that he does whenever I'm in need of help. But I can't possibly do anything when your friend makes up the stupidest excuses to suppress his feelings and pushes me away," you shook your head in response.

"Just give him time. He will come around. There's a limit to how long he can lie to himself," he attempted to encourage you.

"Look, I can't possibly understand what he has been through, but I can only hope he gets it together, because I'm running out of options," you pursed your lips in a humorous manner to lighten the mood as you stood up from your chair. "Two years, it's been two years, Cap," you chuckled darkly. "At this point, even a rejection is better than tiptoeing around our situation."

"Yes, I understand," he offered you a consoling smile. "Go, try to take some rest."

"Well, I wish I could," you smiled as you headed towards the exit. "Have a good night, Cap."

Another week passed and there was no progress in your situation. You caught Bucky's eyes on you, but each time your gaze met, he abruptly turned away. It felt as though you had tried everything to get close to him once again, but the man was stubborn and you were out of ideas. You were on the verge of giving up. Wanting to talk to him, you headed towards his room to tell him that you were done, and you understood that you were probably seeing things and maybe misinterpreting your situation, but before you could have reached his room, Stark stopped you.

"I need you," he said, grabbing your arm and fairly forcefully dragged you across the compound.

"You know, I could just follow you, right?" You asked with a deep frown as he finally let go of your arm and you continued in his steps, heading to the lounge.

As you arrived, Nat and Steve were already seated on a couch, whilst Barton sat at the table, waiting for Tony and you. Before you could even take a seat, Stark has already started explaining your mission against another Hydra hideout. According to his resources and F.R.I.D.A.Y.'s intel, it seemed it was only a small warehouse where they exchanged weapons and since the mission was a rather small one, not all Avengers were needed.

Within an hour you have already discussed the tactics and you were on your way to the warehouse not far from Texas. Taking an old S.H.I.E.L.D. jet that Tony tweaked up, you have arrived at the abandoned area within a couple of hours. Steve and Nat went straight for the entrance, whilst you and Barton used the backdoor, closing off any escape route according to F.R.I.D.A.Y.

But as you stepped inside the building, it became clear that the tactic you have discussed and the blueprint F.R.I.D.A.Y. showed has not been updated. "Is it just us or have you found yourself in a completely different part of the building too?" You asked Steve and Natasha through the earpiece as you looked around, realising nothing was even remotely similar to your expectations.

"Same here," Natasha replied with a heavy tone.

"Oh well, we like a good improvisation," you chuckled silently. "Let's get the party started."

"Stay aware," Rogers warned you, knowing how reckless you were at times.

"Pfft, yes boss," you replied with a grin and even though you couldn't see it, he shook his head.

Barton and you separated, each of you inspecting a different area of the building with all kinds of metal boxes hiding thousands of weapons in them. As you headed towards the back of the building, you heard gunshots from not far away and you started running in the direction of the noise.

"Which one of you was that?" You asked, but for a second no reply came.

"It was me, but it's all good now. Easy targets," Barton replied in a smug tone.

"Don't get cocky," Steve replied as you headed back in your direction.

"Yeah, yeah," he chuckled silently. You shook your head at the conversation, their bickering always making your mood a little lighter, a little happier.

As you continued to a segregated area, you heard the rumbling sound of a machine. Walking through the room, you held your gun up, ready to fire, but there wasn't a soul around, only a dozen desks. Arriving next to the computer on top of a desk connected to a large, old looking machine, you touched the seat in front of it, it's leather still radiating heat. It was enough information for you to know that someone was close by.

You didn't need more time to find out you weren't alone as the sound of a gunshot shook the room, the bullet grazing your face. You immediately ducked and jumped behind another desk as your opponents started shouting at you vigorously. Beside the table you peaked out to look at the size of your enemy as you caught 3 men, each hiding behind a table just like you did. Adjusting the gun in your hand, you turned it toward your first target, shooting him on the chest as he fell back with a loud scream.

Your next target was farther, but it didn't stop you from shooting him on the shoulder and his stomach. However, the third man was relentlessly shooting at you and all around the room not even trying to spare his bullets, so you hid back behind the table.

"Maniac," you whispered.

"Are you alright?" You heard Natasha's voice through your ear.

"Yep, I just have a mental-case on my hand," you replied as you started shooting back, hitting him right across the chest as he fell back, gasping for air. When everything turned silent, you could only hear the rumbling of the machines again. Standing up from behind the table you headed to the 3 men, gun in hand, ready to shoot if any of them were alive, but they were laying on the floor, limbs spread out in all kinds of directions, no sign of survival. You didn't think twice before you headed back to the computer and took out a USB stick to copy the files. However, as you waited for the process to finish, you heard a loud groan. Turning around in a swift movement you saw one of the men raising his gun at you, so you shot. But before your bullet could reach him, he fired his weapon, burning a whole straight in your abdomen, the pain forcing you on your knees as a silent cry left your lungs.

"Fuck," you swore as you held onto the side of the desk to assist you in standing up, whilst your other hand was trying to apply pressure on the wound, stopping you from bleeding out.

"That didn't sound good," you heard Steve's voice.

"No way, captain obvious," you groaned as you pulled out the USB stick, shoving it into your pocket and grabbed your gun, throwing its strap over your shoulder.

"Are you okay?" He asked, ignoring your previous comment.

"Been worse," you replied, attempting to hide the pain in your voice.

Trying to balance yourself against the wall, you headed towards the exit, but each step seemed heavier, more difficult to take. Another room and another room followed, and it felt as though the exit was running away from you. Stopping in one of the rooms, you slid down on the wall and took a seat on the floor, feeling like you didn't have energy anymore, not even to take another step further.

The pain was unbearable, worse than any other injuries you've ever experienced before. You've been shot before, but it was always somewhat numbing when you sat down to take a breather, but as you stayed still leaning against the wall, the pain just increased. Closing your eyes, you tried to think of happy thoughts. The first time you met the Avengers, feeling as though you found a new family, the first time you met Bucky, his child-like smile painted across his face as he introduced himself, though you've heard of him already. There were many happy thoughts running through your head as you slipped in and out of consciousness. You could hear someone's voice, but you weren't sure if it was through your earpiece or if someone was beside you, but it didn't matter anymore. It was tiresome to stay awake, so regardless of the voices telling you to open your eyes, you shifted into a deep slumber.

"You know, I wouldn't mind if you woke up already," you heard a voice, but you couldn't identify it nor could you see the person. It remained dark and somewhat scary where you were. It wasn't often that you felt terrified, but all your efforts to open your eyes seemed fruitless. The steady beeping of a machine beside you and the voice you heard seemed familiar, a cold feeling around your hand sending shivers through your body. You could hear your own groan, but it felt as though the voice didn't belong to you.

"You're safe! Come on, open those beautiful eyes," the voice tried to encourage you. "You can do it, I know you can. Just open them."

Another loud groan left your lungs as you fought hard against the darkness, before your eyes fluttered open, the bright lights above you burning your vision. As if your visitor could sense your discomfort, they dimmed the light as you felt the cold sensation disappear from your hand.

"Do me a favour and open those pretty eyes, okay?" He pleaded with you, his voice sounding familiar, his tone holding a great deal of worry. It took you a good few moments to adjust your vision to your surroundings, before you could force yourself to look around. Without a second glance you recognised the hospital wing of the compound, before your gaze fell on Bucky's scruffy face, clearly avoiding his razors lately.

"Hey," you wanted to greet him, but your voice was barely a whisper, your throat burning from the dry sensation.

"Wait, here," he stood up to offer you a glass of water and he gave you the end of the straw. Chucking it down, trying to regain moisture in your throat, you almost choked on the liquid. "Careful," he warned you as he took the glass from you. Luckily coughing up the liquid seemed to do the trick and within seconds you felt better.

"Thank you," you tried to smile, but it quickly disappeared as you attempted to sit up and a horrible pain shot through your stomach, making you cry out in pain. Bucky placed an arm behind your back and helped you into a seated position, watching as you squeezed your teeth tight, not to let out a sound. He shook his head disapprovingly and that's when you realised the dark circles under his eyes, the deep frown between his brows as if they were permanently stuck there and his lips chapped from dehydration. "You look awful," you snickered, but the pain in your stomach quickly put an end to it.

"Not worse than you," he replied with a soft smile, the wrinkles between his brows started to slowly flatten.

"That I believe," you nodded, feeling as bad as you possibly looked. "How did I end up here? Last time I checked I was in the warehouse," you asked with a humorous tone, but Bucky's face quickly turned concerned.

"It's not funny. They found you unconscious and they brought you back. You've been out for days. You were covered in blood, in and out of consciousness. How could you be so reckless to get shot?" He scolded you and for once you felt guilty.

"I know, I could have jeopardised the mission," you added with a heavy sigh.

"What?" He asked with a stunned expression, furrowing at your words. "Who cares about the mission? You could have gotten yourself killed," he raised his voice, filled with concern and anger. You've never seen so many emotions from him nor has he ever raised his voice with you.

"I'm sorry," you apologised, another rush of guilt taking over you as you let your head fall forward. It wasn't your intention to get shot after all, it just happened, because once again you were reckless and didn't pay attention to the details.

"I'm just glad you are okay," he added as he sat down beside you.

"Oh, were you worried about me?" You chuckled, trying to lift his tense mood.

"Yes, I was," he stated firmly, concern clearly painted across his face.

"Is it a friendly worry," you asked with a mischievous smile, "or it's an 'I almost lost the love of my life' worry?" You snickered playfully.

"It's an 'I'm going to murder you next time if you try something like this' kind of worry," he huffed, earning a heartfelt laughter from you, but it quickly disappeared as the pain shot through your stomach, as though someone stabbed you. "Stop playing around, can't you just be serious once?" He groaned, your recklessness playing with his nerves.

"You made me laugh, so don't nag me," you pulled a face, an annoyed grimace which earned a disapproving look from the man as he leaned back in his chair, folding his arms in front of his chest. "If I knew I needed to get myself almost killed to get your attention, I would have done it earlier," you replied with a humorous tone, but with a straight face, trying to lift the mood once again. Of course, you knew it could have gotten you killed, and you were glad that you were alive and fairly well, but it was easier to joke around than to stay serious.

Bucky shot up from his chair and started walking up and down in front of your bed. "You know it could have ended worse, right?" He asked with a stern look and you nodded in response, this time stopping yourself from trying to joke around. "You could have died," you weren't sure where he was going with it, but from the grave and solemn emotions across his face, you knew he was very serious. "What if you died, huh? You wouldn't be joking around now; you would be six feet under the ground. Would that be funny?" He asked, almost as though he was demanding an answer.

"No, it wouldn't, and I don't want to die obviously. I just didn't want to see you so worried so I thought it would be better if I joked around and you would be less— I don't even know, tense I guess," you huffed as you played with your fingers in your lap nervously. Bucky heaved a heavy sigh as he sat down in the chair beside you and placed his elbows on the edge of your bed, watching you intently. He lifted your hand and leaned his forehead against your knuckles as he closed his eyes, a comforting silence falling between the two of you. "I'm sorry," you apologised again, this time sincerely. You never wanted to make him so worried, let alone see him this concerned. He shook his head, but he didn't open his eyes.

"I was worried because you were dying, but that wasn't the only reason," a heavy sigh left his lungs as he lifted his head and kissed your knuckles, his words leaving you in confusion. His gaze fell on you, watching and studying you as though he was trying to read you. "I was worried because I thought I would lose you before I could have even told you how I felt. I was worried because all this time I have been pushing you away instead of giving us a chance and I thought I would never be able to tell you this. I honestly thought I was about to lose you and it was eating me up from the inside," you took your hand from his and placed it on his cheek, caressing his stubble as he placed his hand on yours, leaning into your touch. "When I heard your voice and watched you fighting to wake up, it felt like I got a second chance with you."

"And what about all your excuses? You are older, you are broken, your mind is not there. What about all of those excuses?" You raised a questioning brow, but you couldn't hide the tiny smile in the corner of your lips.

"I still think I'm older than you," he replied with a wider grin this time.

"And here we go, James Barnes is back with excuses," you huffed shaking your head as you rolled your eyes.

"I will always think like that, but it doesn't mean I love you any less," your eyes grew wide at his sudden confession, a shocked expression taking over your facial muscles.

"Lo— love me?" You asked, stumbling through your words, feeling like you were dreaming, like you were in an alternate universe, an unfamiliar scenario playing.

A heavy sigh escaped his lips, a soft smile spreading across face. "Yes, I do love you."

His words once again shocked you, but as he repeated them, they started to feel more real. "Does— does that mean that– that you would like to give us a chance?" You stuttered, your own confidence betraying you.

"I would like nothing more," he smiled softly as he squeezed your hand. You watched his blue eyes, trying to understand if it was indeed reality or if you were in some sort of dream, but the genuine, loving expression across his face, his eyes holding your gaze endearingly gave you all the answers you needed.

"It took you long enough to open your eyes," you scolded him, but you couldn't mask your happiness. "So, how is it going to be? Do I have to wait for the first kiss until our first date? Sorry, I only dated people my age," you snickered playfully. He shook his head with a wide grin across his face as he stood up and leaned closer to you, hinting a small kiss on your forehead.

"There's your kiss," he chuckled as you pouted, his actions making you feel soft as though you were more than just an agent, but a woman once again.

"What about on the lips?" You asked with an awkward smile.

"You really are impatient," he replied with a scolding tone, but a cheeky smile in the corner of his lips and he did as you wished and connected his lips with yours, kissing you softly, filled with love and care. As he pulled away, he sat back in his seat, both of you beaming happily. A warm sensation rushed through your body when he held onto your hand again, leaning his face against your knuckles, his happy, worriless smile making you mirror his expression. In that moment, you were just plain happy and no one could take that away from you.

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[silverwings22]

Caught in the Crosshairs: Chapter 10 Hey Jealousy: Gin Blossoms

Series warnings: Smut, mind control, canon typical violence, childhood trauma, language, chronic illness

Chapter warnings: Smut, jealousy, character injury, slavery, self injury, language, temper flare

Translations: Nau'ul be'suum'ika: lantern of the moon

cyare: Beloved

Previous chapter:

Next chapter:

"You sure you want to go on this mission?" Anakin sighed over the comm at Miria. She sat on the bridge,  looking through her dossier thoughtfully.  

"Of course.  I've wanted to do this particular work for years. Even petitioned the council when I passed my trials.' She mused.

"Really?" His brows knitted together. "I didn't know… I would have gone with you."

"You were still a child,  Anakin. It was unfair to ask so much of you. Besides, you despise Tattooine and mercy missions aren't your forte. You're a warrior."

He chuckled weakly.  "You're the one with a special commando unit."

She nodded fondly. "They'll make a soldier of me yet.  Now,  I'll report once we've established our base camp."

"This could be dangerous,  you know. You're cutting into powerful people's profit margins." He cautioned. 

Miria nodded.  "I know. But stopping slave trade out of Tattooine will slow droid production in the Outer Rim.  I'm sure there's a factory somewhere in the Dune Sea, and the only people who'd be able to churn out a production line so quickly are those with no choice. It's manned by slaves. And I intend to free them." She said firmly.  "And if Jabba the Hutt is in on this double cross I will drag him before the highest court in Coruscant." 

Anakin eyed her.  "That's your solution?  A court."

She blinked,  confusion creeping into her face. "Of course… what other option is there?"

"Kill him?"

"Anakin,  that's a war crime!" She blinked,  eyes wide. "You can't do that."

His expression fell.  "Miria, you don't get it." He said quietly. "You were never a slave…"

She softened immediately.  "I'm sorry,  Anakin. I shouldn't be harsh with you." She wished she could take his hands and comfort him directly.  "You're right.  Some things I can't understand, because I haven't experienced it. But I should try to see your perspective."

He nodded quietly.  "Thanks."

"After this mission,  let's spend some time together like we used to. We'll talk about it… I think you need someone to talk to."

"You're a mind healer now?"

"I'm your friend." She smiled. "Besides, you might learn a few things from me too."

"Alright.  That sounds good." He smiled.  "Might be nice to hang out with someone other than the clones."

"I like my boys. They're good company."

"See you soon, Miria. I gotta go give a report anyway." He chuckled.  "Be careful."

"Of course.  May the Force be with you."

The comm line cut and she stood up,  stretching her shoulders. She was sore, more than usual,  and her joints ached in the cold air of the ship. She headed for the cockpit to check on the boys. 

"How's it going, General?" Hunter looked up from cleaning his knife.  

"Quite well. Anakin was checking on the status of the mission."

"We got the assignment an hour ago and we're not even on Tattooine yet. He's fussing awfully early." 

She dropped into her seat. "He's just concerned.  Tattooine is his home planet. And he hates it, hates that I'm going there"

Crosshair eyed her quietly. "What's he care?"

"He's my friend?" She blinked curiously at him. "Why,  darling?"

"He's jealous." Wrecker smirked.

"I'll shoot you." Crosshair hissed.  

"Stop it." Miria scolded sharply. "No one's shooting anyone here.  And I practically raised Anakin.  There's no reason for jealousy. He's like a younger brother to me."

"It's not you he's worried about." Tech looked up from his data pad. "Skywalker has the same reckless disregard for rules our team thrives on. Including social conventions."

"Anakin has no romantic interest in me.  Besides,  it's not allowed-"

"Neither are we.  And he's not better than you." Crosshair snapped,  startling her with his sharpness. 

She frowned.  "Cross…" 

The sniper shoved himself up and stormed out. She sighed quietly. 

"I think he's jealous of every friend you have.  But Skywalker and Kenobi bother him most,  he's actually mentioned them." Hunter examined his knife carefully.  "He'll get over it."

"He's never said anything to me…" Her brow furrowed. 

"He's never been one to admit to insecurity.  Especially not in front of you; he wants you to have the best opinion of him." Tech shrugged. 

"You're kind of perfect." Wrecker grinned.  "Who wants to tell you they're upset when nothing ever rattles you?"

"I'm far from perfect,  dear.  More upsets me than I share. Perhaps that's been my mistake." She stood. "I'll talk to him. Stay up here for a while, I don't know how this will go." 

Once she was gone,  Tech sighed.  "Probability is high that it'll end naked or in a screaming match."

"You think they'll break up?" Wrecker frowned. He didn't want the Jedi to leave either. 

"With Crosshair's tendency towards the possessive and her outlandish capacity to forgive? Probably not."

"Oh good."

Miria heard the cracking of a fist on durasteel before she opened the bunkroom door and sighed unhappily. Of course he'd never let her see him hit something when he was angry,  never wanting her to think he was showing that he wanted to hit her.  But it was a self destructive habit that showed itself in the scars on his knuckles long before she'd ever put her hands in his.  She keyed the door code in quietly and pushed it open.  "Crosshair…"

He had dumped his gear already, leaving it in a messy pile. Usually he was neat,  but the puddle of plastoid mirrored his disordered thoughts.  He was sitting on the edge of the bunk,  head down,  nursing bloody knuckles.  "Go away." He muttered savagely. 

"No. Let me see your hand." She sighed and crossed the room to him.  He didn't fight her when she knelt in front of him to examine the injury,  but he didn't look at her either.  "Nothing broken." She finally declared,  reaching for her med kit. "Honestly,  Crosshair. There's no need for this."

He huffed sharply, pulling his hand from hers.  "That you see."

"I see a spectacularly stubborn man who needs to let me bandage his knuckles.  Care to enlighten me further?" She tugged his hand back to her by the sleeve of his blacks.  "Now hold still and talk to me."

His amber eyes settled on the top of her head as she worked,  cleaning his knuckles and bandaging them quietly.  "Everything's trying to take you away." He finally breathed. "I hate it."

"I fail to see what that has to do with my small number of friends outside of this ship." She looked up and those lavender eyes weren't soft right now. They weren't angry exactly,  which was somewhat relieving,  but there was an expectation in them.  She was going to make him get the words out.

"I know how I am." He finally sighed. "And how you are. I don't… see why you picked me. Of all people.  Of all clones." 

"Does it matter why?" She got up off the floor and sat down beside him,  knees drawn tightly together and ankles crossed.  So neat and carefully controlled.  Such a Jedi. 

"Yes." He ran a hand through his hair. "I know you can do better than me.  How long before you do? I told you, I'm selfish. I don't want… I can't stand it." His voice dropped.  "I finally have something really good in my fucking life,  Miria…"

Her hand settled comfortably on the small of his back.  "Crosshair.  Look at me."

He had to force himself to meet her eyes. She looked open and honest,  something he'd never quite managed to be.  He got close with her,  but only just barely.  

"I want this,  Crosshair." she murmured. "I want you.  Who hurt you so badly that you can't believe that?"

He froze,  eyes snapping wide.  Hurt him? His knee jerk reaction was to laugh. No one hurt him,  he was just…

But he had been hurt, hadn't he? The Kaminoans taught them they were expendable numbers on a whiteboard, whose value came in what they could do for the Republic that bought them like commodities.  And only because the Republic was the highest bidder. The regs made his early life living hell for differences he couldn't control. The war,  with death waiting around every corner. The absolute insanity of it all…

His eyes stung, unfamiliar and embarrassing.  He hadn't cried since he was a cadet, and he tried to turn his face away to hide it. But a warm little hand lay itself on his cheek,  soft and impossible to resist though he knew he was physically stronger than her. "It's… the way we were raised." He said shakily.  "You've seen the Senate meetings. We're not people…"

"Yes you are. And I'll fight till my dying breath to make them see it too." She said quietly. "You're all people. But you,  Cross? You're mine." 

Like she'd struck him with her lightsaber,  he crumpled. He went down into her arms and buried his face in her chest. His shoulders shook as he tried and failed not to actually cry,  clinging to her like she could hold him together. 

Miria stroked his hair gently,  letting him catch his breath.  "It's not like you're the only one who gets jealous,  love." She murmured. "I've seen the pretty cantina girls looking at you. I've thought about punching a few out… remember that pantoran on Corellia?"

He blinked.  A bar waitress they'd been trying to get information from… she had been irritatingly all over him while he was undercover… "Vaguely."

"When she put her hand on your thigh,  I thought about cutting it off." She admitted.  "It's not becoming of a Jedi,  so I didn't say anything. But I was angry… and then we went back to the safehouse,  and all you wanted to do was hold me.  She was pretty and willing and you came back to me anyway."

"She wasn't prettier than you."

"Would you have gone with her if she was?"

"Fuck no. You're the only one I-"

"Then why would you ever think I would do that?" She smiled, kissing his forehead softly when he looked up.  Her thumbs wiped the lingering damp from his cheeks.  "I love you.  I choose you, and I'll keep choosing you.  No one in this entire galaxy can love me like you do."

He snuggled back into her chest quietly and let her soothe him with her heartbeat while he thought about her words.  "I didn't think Jedi got jealous." He finally mumbled. 

"We're not droids. We have all the emotions of any other being,  even the ugly ones. We just are trained not to let them control us… that's the difference between your childhood and mine. You weren't allowed to acknowledge yours at all.  But how can you tame a monster you're not allowed to name?"

Crosshair closed his eyes.  "Guess that's why you always seem so perfect."

"I'm far from it. I used to think about my accident… how unfair it was that it'd happened to me. How dependent I felt on the healers,  how much I wanted a normal life, how afraid I was to love anything that I knew I was destined to leave behind too soon…. Then I met this extraordinary group of men. And one by one they taught me how to live when I only knew how to die slowly." She kissed his forehead again.  "And there's this one, you see…  handsome man, silver hair and an excellent marksman.  He's got these bright, intense eyes and a hair trigger temper but I love it. And he made me realize I was wasting time feeling sorry for myself. So I want to spend all my remaining time with him." She chuckled softly.  

"He sounds nice. What are you doing with me laying on your tits if he's so great?" A glimmer of his smirk returned. 

"Well, you're quite pretty." She laughed.  "You know what I mean, Cross. If I left the order today and never saw the healers again,  I'd still want to spend every second like this. Holding you."

"I don't want to think about that. If they won't agree to keep treating you…"

"Then I'm still yours,  Crosshair. We'll cram as much life into the time I have as we can." She tugged him up gently to her mouth.  "No one knows how much time we have. Let me give you right now "

Crosshair was for once compliant, letting her kiss him breathless and push him back into the bunk in his back. She settled back, unlacing his boots dutifully and setting them aside. He watched through half lidded eyes as she took her own off, setting her armor down beside his. Her dress and breeches followed,  laid in her footlocker,  before she climbed into the bunk with him and settled herself straddling his waist. Her warm little hands pushed under his shirt, smoothing over his stomach and up his chest.  "Maker,  you're lovely." She smiled at the dark skin under her pale hands.  

How could he ever believe she'd want anyone else,  if he was so perfect? How couldn't he see himself through her eyes?  "May I try something?" She asked softly.  "Do you trust me?"

He nodded hazily. "I trust you."

Miria leaned down, pressing her forehead to his gently. He could feel her breath on his lips,  her heartbeat against his chest steady and calm. 

Let me in.  

It was a brush against his consciousness, gentle as silk.  It made him jolt, but her fingers against his chest flexed softly to assure him.  Let me in,  Crosshair.  Let me show you. Delivered past his ears directly into his brain,  she knocked so sweetly at the locked door. 

So he opened it. 

His senses rushed,  overlaid with her thoughts and his own.  He could feel her weight on his hips,  but also the angle of his pelvis against her thighs.  Her heartbeat settled into a rhythm with his,  a symphony of desire. She sat back,  maintaining the connection,  and looked at him. He saw her face,  but inlaid he saw himself through her eyes. Flat on his back,  shirt pulled up with her hands over his heart, staring at her.  And he felt it under his ribs like it took up physical space,  how much she loved him. 

Mirias head dipped down, lips pressing plush and soft against his chest as she eased his shirt up until he half sat up to let her remove it. 

This heart is mine to love.

She graced his collarbones with kisses,  sending electric lights through his skin.  

These shoulders carry burdens I will share. 

When she drew his injured hand up with the Force,  she kissed the bruised knuckles tenderly.  

These hands are mine to hold. 

He was under her spell as she lavished every inch of exposed skin with affection.

Soak every inch of you in my love, so you feel it on you forever. So you'll always know.

She trailed down his stomach,  fingers squeezing his strong thighs. Her fingers hooked into the waistband of his pants,  tugging them carefully downward. His breath hitched at the wave of arousal, hers and his combined,  as the cool ship's air hit his burning skin. Miria pressed kisses to his hipbones as he kicked them the rest of the way off. When she sat back to look at him,  a rush of affection burst through the connection with the force of a star's birth. 

You're so beautiful.  

Miria slipped her breast band over her head in the delicate little way women tended to remove shirts,  like she was unwrapping a present,  shimmying her underwear off next. Then she crawled back up to him,  kissing him tenderly as she settled into position and sank down on his length.  

The Force made me to love you. Made us to fit together,  just like this.

Her back arched,  head falling back in a tumble of hair as she settled down against him. He felt her breath catch in his own lungs and hesitantly reached,  a hand skimming up her ribs and the other on her chest. He felt the touch like a phantom on his own skin. Miria smiled, rocking her hips slowly into his and sending starlight humming through his blood.  

It was tender and slow and mind-blowing as she took the lead and seared her love into his flesh. A missing piece of the puzzle slipped into place, doubts erased in his mind of exactly what she thought of him.  There were no secrets with them in each other's minds like this. 

The double layered sensations dragged them both towards release quickly,  thoughts scattering wildly.  He tried to focus on the heart pounding under his fingertips as the other hand tightened on her hip. Hers settled in his shoulders,  the steady rise and fall of her pelvis picking up speed. 

Wanna give you everything.  Wanna give you eternity. Want forever with you,  and everything that comes with it. A home… want to see those eyes reflected in a child… 

Neither of them knew if it was their own thought or the others, but it screamed through the connection in a disjointed swirl of color and sound that crashed into the desire hard enough to send them both careening over the edge. 

Miria doubled over when she came,  head finding its place in the crook of his neck as he painted her insides with his own spend. She panted into his ear before kissing his neck, giggling softly as he shuddered. "Wh-what the fuck was that…?" He mumbled as the connection petered out and the only senses he felt were his own. "Holy shit…"

"Force bond." She murmured,  snuggling against him.  "You needed to see how I see you.  How beautiful you are to me."

He pressed her a little closer.  "I should punch shit more often."

"That was not the purpose of this." She huffed, starting to shiver as their sweat cooled. 

He pulled the blanket up over them and turned her carefully, laying her beside him and begrudgingly slipping from her heat. "I know,  cyare."

She kissed him. "Still think I want anyone else?"

Crosshair chuckled faintly. "I might need a reminder now and then…"

"I think that can be arranged." She pulled him into her arms,  letting his head return to resting on her chest so she could stroke his hair. "Rest,  love. We've got a long mission ahead of us."

"Mm…" He was already half asleep,  tangled thoughts whirring around that last burst through the bond. A child… a family.  Something he'd never thought he'd ever get and hadn't been willing to let himself want until now. 

Miria kissed his temple and held him close as his breathing deepened. 

"I love you,  Crosshair."

He didn't hear it, but he knew. 

Base camp was hidden in a rocky outcropping out on the Dune Sea,  surrounded by high stone on all sides and easily defendable with only one way in and out through a gap in the walls. It was big enough to land the Marauder in, and set up tents to give everyone a little space to breathe.  The Bad Batch were always prepared to camp in any terrain. 

Miria chuckled and set up the fire pit, bemused at Wrecker struggling with his tent.  "You alright there,  dear?"

"Yeah. Just tricky." He grumbled.  She set her task aside and went to help.  

"I haven't been camping in a long time.  The creche masters used to take us once a year to Naboo to camp when I was young…" She smiled,  setting the tent rods together for him as he smiled sheepishly. "I used to love it."

"Grow out of it?" Hunter looked up from a perimeter check. 

"Not exactly.  I just wasn't allowed away from the temple for a week at a time when I got sick. By the time they got me functional,  I was a padawan and had other things to attend to." She shrugged.  "But I think this is better. You guys are more fun."

Crosshair cocked an eyebrow,  busy unloading supplies. "Is that what we're calling it?"

"At least it's not going to rain here.  Remember camp training on Kamino?"

"Drowned womp rats,  the lot of us. At least the regs were miserable too." Hunter chuckled. 

Miria rolled her eyes fondly. "Hm. Let's focus on the positives for now. We've got a secure camp and Jawas can't steal our ship. Tomorrow,  we'll send in recon and determine if Jabba is involved in this mess."

"If he is, General?" Tech looked up from his hand held.  

"I call the council and request reinforcements to arrest him.  If he's not,  we get creative." She chuckled. "We're good at that."

The guys grinned.  "That we are." Tech nodded.

Miria scaled the stone wall carefully to check their vantage point and enjoy the late afternoon sun for a moment.  "How do we feel about skipping ration bars and having something fresh for dinner?" She asked with a smile, looking down 

"I think that's a great idea!" Wrecker cheered. 

"There's a herd of bantha about a half klick from here.  Crosshair, would you mind?"

"Not at all." He went to get his rifle.  

Hunter chuckled. "Come on,  Wrecker.  I'll field dress it,  you carry it back."

"South by southeast." Miria called as they headed out and the sniper climbed up to join her and line up a shot.  

"Well spotted for your eyesight." He chuckled,  looking through the scope. 

"I sensed them through the Force first." She smiled,  watching him micro-adjust for terrain and wind speed before taking the shot.  All but one of the herd took off running.  

Crosshair sat back to admire his own work.  "Sounds to me like the Force does anything. I never asked you how it works."

"It's the life energy of every living thing. Plants,  animals,  people… I suppose it's like a collective soul." She explained.  "Everyone is connected to it,  but only certain people can sense it. Even less can interact with it in a meaningful way. When I use the Force, I call it to me.  It's like… reaching out to a friend. When I sense others,  I can feel their spirits."

Crosshair set his rifle down and looked out across the desert. "And everyone feels different?"

Miria drew her knees up and nodded.  "Yes.  Even the regs are all unique in the Force."

"And us?"

"Wrecker is like… crackling flame. Bright and burning but almost dancing.  And Tech is sharp and almost cold,  but as if you're too warm and it's nice.  Like putting your cheek on cool durasteel." She mused. "And Hunter… like a braided rope.  Secure and strong, but rough."

"What do I feel like?" A gloved hand settled on the small of her back. 

She smiled softly. "Bright,  and strong.  Clear,  cool as running water…" she put her cheek on her knees and looked at him with a look he couldn't quite place in her eyes.  "Like starlight."

He looked at her for a minute,  before leaning in and kissing her forehead.  "I think I like that."

"I know I do." She smiled.  "It's like a guiding star for me to follow."

"I wonder what you feel like." He mused thoughtfully.  

"Do you want to find out?" She offered. 

"Can I?" Crosshair blinked.  

Miria touched his hand and wrapped her consciousness into his,  the bond bursting to life immediately.  She gave him a minute, letting him adjust to the much brighter world than the last time they'd joined,  before meeting his eyes. What do I feel like?

He cautiously reached out, trying to sense the world around him as she did.  He was so aware of everything around,  from the fading proximity of the bantha herd to Tech below them,  and Hunter and Wrecker in the distance. But her presence was right there,  touching his mind. 

She felt like gentle light and shadow at once,  the proportions changing in phases steady as chrono ticks. There was no burn in the light,  nor fear of the darkness. "Nau'ul be'me'suum'ika." He murmured.  "Moonlight."

Miria smiled and let the connection fade.  "You think so?"

Crosshair nodded. 

She snuggled under his arm happily and closed her eyes, until Wrecker and Hunter returned and it was time to start the fire and cook a meal. Tomorrow the real work began.  

She'd sent Hunter and Crosshair into Jabba's palace in plainclothes, their keen eyes and ears best suited for recon while Tech ran scans all over the perimeter. It was the right decision,  but Miria was anxious over it nonetheless. 

"You're gonna pace a hole in the ground,  General." Wrecker commented dryly.  He was seated in the mouth of his tent,  enjoying the leftovers of last night's bantha.  "Come sit and eat."

"I just can't,  Wrecker. Not until they come back." 

"You're worried sick." He sighed, protective nature kicking in. "Come here."

She let out an long-suffering sigh, but came over and sat beside him. "I'm just so nervous… I know this is what we do,  but they could be hurt and I'm not there to do anything about it…" She rubbed her shoulder anxiously. 

"Stiff neck?" He frowned.

"Nothing unusual.  My joints just hurt…" She grumbled.  

"From sleeping on the ground?"

"No, no. They've hurt for twenty years at this point. I always hurt." She sighed. "I'm sorry,  I try not to complain,  it's just-"

"Don't apologize. You're allowed to complain,  Maker knows the rest of us do." He patted her back gently. "Really though. All the time?"

"Since I was six years old. Nothing to worry about." She smiled weakly. "It's just a part of me now."

"You've been on the team a year and never said anything."

"What purpose does it serve?  I can't have you treating me like I'm made of glass. We'd get nothing accomplished." She sighed and leaned against him tiredly. "Though maybe we'll take some shore leave when we get done here… I'm sure you're all tired too."

He still looked worried. "General… you gotta be nicer to yourself.  You work too hard. I hear you up later than anyone and up before us too."

"I can do it." She said automatically, then paused and laughed weakly.  "My goodness,  I'm still the same little padawan,  aren't I?"

Wrecker looked at her quizzically.  "Huh?"

"I used to say that all the time. 'I can do it, Master.' When I was training,  my master tried to go easy on me.  He was always letting me out of lessons to rest,  or suggesting things that were simple… I think he just wanted me to enjoy time,  but I was stubborn.  I'd beg for harder lessons,  or to spar, or anything that felt hard.  And I'd always end up on my knees,  coughing blood, telling him to make me try again until I succeeded. I just had to prove I deserved to be a knight like everyone else.  It's a wonder Master didn't break down screaming." She chuckled weakly. "Crosshair was right. I am stubborn."

"I'd call it badass." He chuckled.  "But you don't have to prove it to anyone anymore.  The galaxy knows by now."

"It's not about proving anymore.  Now I've got to keep you all safe." She sighed again. "You all matter to me so much."

He smiled.  "You matter too. What would we do without you?" He touched the scarred side of his head. "Actually,  nevermind. Just stick around."

She clicked her tongue lightly.  "Was this explosion related?"

"Yeah… hair grew back in patchy so I started shaving my head afterwards,  too. But then Hunter got his tattoo so I wouldn't be the only one with a mismatched face. And then everyone got one.  Tech's got the 99 on his back,  and I got the skull on my chest.  You've seen Crosshairs."

She chuckled. "Maybe I should get a tattoo to match.  What do you think?"

He grinned. "What would you get?"

Miria pondered.  "Hmm. I know Obi-wan got drunk with Quinlan Voss and they got matching Jedi insignia on their backs.  Maybe something like that?"

"Aren't you gonna leave the Jedi?"

She blinked. "Oh… right." She smiled.  "I guess I'll have to think about it."

He grinned.  "If you do decide to get one,  I'll come hold your hand."

"Thank you,  dear." She patted his arm.  "I think I hear the others coming back." She leapt to her feet.

Sure enough, three brothers slogged in in various states of annoyance.  Tech looked the least frazzled and saluted more sarcastically than anything else. "Good news and bad news,  General.  The good news,  Jabba is not involved.  Bad news,  we'd have been back an hour ago but the line of questioning had Jabba convinced these two were slavers trying to undermine his alliance with the Republic,  and we had to give them the slip. Though his anger was genuine according to bio scans."

She nodded.  "So now we need to find the droid factory."

"Which will be well hidden and difficult to find." He nodded.  "And there's too much desert to search on foot. They'd shoot down the ship if we tried flyover searches,  as well."

Miria nodded thoughtfully. "I've got an idea." She looked at Crosshair.  "You're not going to like it,  darling."

He scowled and pulled a toothpick from his pocket.  "Maker damn it, cyare."

Crosshair did,  in fact,  not like this plan.  "Why can't one of us be the bait?" He muttered as Miria changed from her usual dress and armor to a simple plain tunic and skirt. She was standing on the ship,  setting her things into her footlocker,  exchanging her boots for a pair of simple sandals.  

"Because you and Hunter are thought to be slavers and Tech was seen with you. That leaves Wrecker and I as the only unknowns,  and no ones going to believe I captured and enslaved someone his size. It has to be me." She pinned her hair into a low ponytail. "I'll be fine."

"Without your lightsaber or backup." He growled. "How the hell are we even going to find you once you're out there?"

Miria smiled. "Tech's working on it. A micro-tracking chip small enough to conceal." She explained. "Once I'm in, I'll give the signal and you guys can come get me."

"This is too dangerous." He snarled.  

"I can do it,  Cross." She said firmly. "I can do this."

He sighed and rubbed his temples.  "You're so stubborn,  woman."

"It's part of my charm." She smiled. "Come here."

Crosshair grumbled but walked to her as she stood, and she wrapped her arms around his narrow frame.  He immediately clutched her close.  "You could get hurt, Miria." He muttered in her ear. "I hate this."

"I know,  love. But it's my duty.  It's the right thing to do. There are innocent people suffering,  and I won't be just another Jedi that turned a blind eye. Too many already have."

She knew the story,  had heard it a million times from Obi-wan's regretful lips.  How Qui-gon Jinn, a good man with a good heart, uttered the sentence "We're not here to free slaves" even in the face of Shmi Skywalkers incredible kindness.  How he only saved her son because he believed he was the Chosen One. How he'd left the woman behind on this terrible planet with her only pride and joy taken from her.  

But she was here to free slaves. She could change the course of lives,  if she was only brave enough. 

"You're too good sometimes. Be an asshole for five minutes.  Don't do this." Her lover whispered. 

"I am. You're hurting over my decision,  and I'm sorry." She sighed.  "But it's too important.  I have to follow through." 

He sighed. "I hate this."

"I know,  love.  I'll make it up to you." She cupped his cheek.  "We'll spend some time on Coruscant after this."

He leaned into her touch.  "I still hate this."

"I know."

She regretfully let him go and walked out to the others. Tech smiled. "Ready, General?"

  She nodded,  and he pulled out a tiny tracker the size of a grain of rice. She carefully tied it into a strip of cloth and wound it into her hair.  "Reception okay?"

"It should do.  We'll be tracking your progress and be only a few hours behind.  Try not to get into trouble until we arrive."

She smiled.  "Of course. Ready,  Wrecker?"

The big man came out of his tent,  dressed as a sketchy looking slaver. "I don't like it,  general.  You look so tiny and helpless right now…"

She smiled, holding her wrists out for him to cuff begrudgingly.  "The sooner we do this,  the sooner you can blow up that foundry."

Even that didn't make him look any happier.  "Okay…. But this sucks."

He took her wrists in one big hand and pulled her out of the secure circle of stone. Miria glanced back in time to see Crosshair slam his fist into the side of the Marauder.  

She'd make this up to him.  But it had to be done.  It was only right. She was,  for now,  a Jedi knight.  Keeper of peace and bringer of aid.  The galaxy needed people like her.  

Miria kept her eyes down as she was dragged to a transport.  The sale had gone quickly,  Wrecker roughly hauling her through the market until they'd been approached by a droid that offered a thousand credits for her.  She was slightly offended she wasn't worth more,  honestly,  but did her best acting and even summoned tears as she begged her "master" not to sell her. Wrecker had played his part well,  shoving her into the droid's grip the second the money was in his hand.  She saw the regret in his eye though. Poor thing,  he loved fighting and explosions but he really was such a sweetheart….

But now she had to focus on survival,  as she and a few other hapless slaves were loaded up and their electro-cuffs magnetized to the durasteel wall of the transport.  She tugged against them experimentally, and they held fast. 

She had nothing but her wits and the Force now.  No comms, no saber, no Bad Batch until they reached her again.  She'd have to be enough. 

I can do it.  

She looked out over the sands as they moved,  trying to remember which way they went in case she needed to run. It was a hopeless wash of constant beige,  muddling together in her mind.  

"Did you get captured too?" Whispered a frightened looking pantoran girl of no more than fourteen,   tears on her cheeks. "I was just trying to go to the market for my mama…"

Miria took a step closer to her,  so their shoulders brushed. "Shh. It's alright,  dear.  You'll see her again soon. What's your name,  little one?"

"Chisee…" she whispered back.  

"Chisee. I'm Miria.  Stay close to me,  young one.  I'll help you."

"How? We're trapped and we don't even know where they're taking us…"

Miria smiled quietly.  "I'm a Jedi."

Chisee looked at her and Miria lifted her arm so the girl could wipe her tears on her sleeve. "Really…?"

"Yes.  Keep it secret,  but someone is coming to help us.  Just stay close to me."

"Okay…. I'm really scared."

"It's okay to be afraid.  But you mustn't let it paralyze you."

Chisee nodded and leaned into her side as best she could as the transport slowed. The slaves were shoved out into the hot desert in front of the foundry. 

It was a monolith of stone,  half finished,  with another hundred or so hapless souls laying brick outside.  It seemed entirely manned by droids. A command droid was waiting for them, with riot droids carrying electrowhips patrolling the working slaves.  Miria winced at the crack of a whip and the accompanying scream of a twi'lek nearby.  

"You are now property of the Techo Union." The command droid intoned.  "You will complete construction of this base so that it reaches full operational capacity,  and then you will be set free."

"You hear that,  Miss Miria?  They're gonna let us go if we finish." Chisee tugged the Jedis sleeve. 

Miria shook her head. "They're lying,  little one.  They won't leave witnesses.  If we finish it,  we'll be executed." She pulled the girl close.  "Just stay near me."

They were marched in to be searched and fitted with chains on their ankles and wrists before being hauled out to start laying brick.  

It was backbreaking work under a brutal set of suns, and the slaves were struggling with lack of water and exhaustion.  Miria herself was light headed after hours in the sun, but she was trying her best to shield Chisee from the heaviest labor. She was only a child,  and trying not to cry every time a droid patrolled by. 

"It's alright,  dear.  Don't waste water." Miria wiped her cheeks with her dusty hands gently. "Look at me. Deep breath." She murmured kindly. "You're okay." 

Chisee nodded shakily.  "Y-yes ma'am…"

"Back to work." The monotonous voice of a droid caught them both off guard.

Mirias eyes snapped up and she pushed the girl to the side as a whip came down.  She threw her arm up,  the stinging crackle wrapping around her forearm and delivering an agonizing shock. She gritted her teeth,  yanking it from the droid's hand.  

She was immediately dogpiled by multiple droids, dragged off from the line by her chains.  Beyond the press of durasteel, she locked eyes with the frightened little blue face of the girl, clinging to the next frightened slave beside her in abject terror. "Miss Miria!"

Crosshair was laying on his belly on a rock ledge,  looking through his scope.  The base was in sight,  half finished and jutting up through the sand.  He'd spotted Miria easily,  working alongside a little blue kid.  Of course she'd found a kid,  they fucking flocked to her. 

"Anything,  Crosshair?" Tech was looking at his data pad. 

"Spotted her." Crosshair muttered. 

"We're supposed to be looking at their fortifications and how many droids there are."

"Churning out basic battle droids from the inner base.  Fifteen commando droids. Twenty riot droids. One command droid. About a hundred organics." Crosshair huffed. "One General. She found a kid. I'm paying attention." The tension in his shoulders could have compacted him into diamond, Tech noted.  

Hunter was on Crosshair's other side,  looking through binocs. "We'll have to move in at nightfall.  The slaves are too exposed like this, and you know how she feels about collateral damage."

Wrecker nodded. She'd given him many lectures about damaging innocent people's property with his preferred demolition methods.  

"They're pulling her out of line." Crosshair hissed, leaning back into his scope.  His fingers twitched as he watched Miria dragged through the sand to a mounted post just outside the perimeter. 

"What are they doing?" Wrecker frowned.  Tech pulled up his own binocs.

"It appears they're hooking her chains to that post… oh. Oh dear..." Tech trailed off. 

Crosshair snarled, watching in horror as Miria was stretched out so her legs barely reached the ground.  She was struggling furiously,  mouth moving as she gave some snarky quip in that cute little Coruscanti accent. That was his girl,  unflappable in even the worst-

Her face contorted when the electrowhip cracked down against her back. She arched against the pain, spasms in her arms jerking the chain.  The whip came down again.  And again. 

"We need to move,  now." Crosshair hissed. 

"We can't,  Crosshair." Hunter's voice was low.  "The four of us can't take out those droids in broad daylight."

"You see what's happening!" Crosshair started to get up,  ready to go down there by his damn self. He wasn't leaving her down there.  No way in hell.

Hunter pushed his shoulder down.  "Stand down,  Crosshair.  I see it. I know.  But if we blow this mission,  it's for nothing. We can't do that to her."

"How's that any worse than what they're doing?!" Crosshair wanted to scream.  He wanted to punch Hunter right across that damn skull tattoo and go down there and get Miria back.  How the fuck was anyone not understanding that?!

Almost like it was hammering a point home,  a distant scream echoed through the open desert.  Mirias scream,  one of pain,  like back on the Separatist ship with Ventress. It made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end and Hunter flinched.  "I know,  Crosshair. I know.  But I'm second in command,  so right now I'm giving orders.  We wait till nightfall." He said quietly. "Wrecker,  keep Crosshair from leaving."

Crosshair hissed and dropped his eye back to the scope. His Jedi was being dragged back to the work line,  the back of her tunic ripped and blood seeping through when they tossed her back on her hands and knees in front of the terrified pantoran girl who moved immediately to comfort her.  

When he slammed his fist into the stone beneath him,  it cracked.  

"Are you sure you're alright, miss?" A kind looking togruta man gently touched Mirias shoulder.  They'd been rounded up into a pen just inside the compound walls,  left with a bucket of some cattle slop to share between them,  and locked in for the night. Her savaged back was screaming as she huddled near the edge of the group, arms around Chisee to keep her warm from the cold desert night.  

"I'm okay.  Thank you,  sir." She smiled faintly.  

"You took quite a beating today.  Can I at least try to tend your back?  I don't have much,  but I used to be a nurse before I was captured." He offered. "I'm Shokan."

"Nice to meet you,  Shokan. I'm Miria." She chuckled and shifted so he could kneel behind her.  "Was everyone here captured?"

"Not everyone.  Some were slaves already,  bought from Mos Eisley mostly.  But I guess it's cheaper to steal people… I've been here a month. I've got a husband and daughter back in Anchorhead… I hope they're okay." He said regretfully.  "I just left home to get groceries. I didn't think it'd be the last time I saw them."

"It won't be.  We're all getting out of here." She assured him,  wincing slightly as he rubbed some herbal smelling ointment on her back.  

"Sorry,  I know it stings.  But it's all they let me keep when they took me." He murmured.  

Chisee looked up at Miria.  "You got hurt helping me."

"That's what my people do.  We help." Miria petted her lavender curls gently.  

"Your people?" Shokan frowned.  

Miria dropped her voice. "I am a Jedi knight.  There's an elite group of commandos trailing me,  to destroy this base.  I was captured intentionally in order to find it." Her smile widened a little. "My boys are close.  We'll all be free soon."

He chuckled weakly.  "You're brave,  I'll give you that.  But there's a lot of droids here,  and you're injured."

"The Force is with me.  I'll be fine.  You'll see your family again soon." She promised, reaching back to squeezed his hand.  

"I hope you're right.  I miss them. " He said sadly. 

Miria nodded,  eyes scanning the sky.  "It's getting good and dark. It won't be long,  I'm sure."

"How many people are coming,  Miss Miria?" Chisee whispered. 

"Four."

"That won't be enough." Sokan murmured cautiously. 

"You don't know my boys.  The droids won't stand a chance." Her eyes darted up to a tiny flash of light overhead.  "There's the signal. Gather everyone together in the middle of the pen."

"I'm trusting you, Miss Jedi." Sokan sighed. 

"Have faith.  I'll see us all out safely. 

He went to move everyone together and Miria stood,  backing Chisee up to the group. She stood in front of them,  waiting. 

The Batch was in position on the upper wall of the base. "General's ready." Hunter murmured. 

"Droids have moved to roving rotation." Tech nodded.  "I can disable the electric fence around the prisoners."

"Eyes on the commando droids." Crosshair said sharply.  "Give the signal, sergeant."

Hunter shrugged the barb off. Crosshair would be fine once Miria was safe,  and she could deal with his attitude. "Wrecker,  create a diversion."

"Finally." The big clone grinned,  taking a deep breath and charging the nearest group of droids. 

Tech took off for the pen while Crosshair provided cover fire for Wrecker,  Hunter right behind the genius to buy him time. 

"Good to see you boys." Miria grinned as they popped up at the control panel to the pen. 

"Likewise,  General." Tech chuckled.  With a few quick adjustments,  the fence died and Hunter yanked the gate open. 

"Out the back wall!" Miria ordered.  

"General,  catch!" Hunter tossed her saber.  She caught it and grinned.  

"Much better. Let's move!" She started ushering everyone out the fence. "Sokan,  take the lead.  I'm right behind you!"

A hundred frightened slaves followed the togruta towards the half finished wall in a panicked rush while Miria deflected blaster bolts from behind. Hunter rushed ahead to start scrapping riot droids while the commando counterpoints dropped from sniper fire.  "I don't see the command unit!" Tech yelled as he tossed electrodes that fried a group getting too close.  

Miria turned. "I got it!"

Through his scope, Crosshair watched Miria take a Force assisted leap over a group of battle droids and land directly in front of the command droid. 

"You will be destroyed." Its irritating monotonous voice grated on her nerves in the worst way. 

"My name is General Miria Halcyon,  and you can transmit to your Techno Union that this little project is finished." She went low,  under blaster fire,  and drove her saber right through the armored body from the bottom and up. It fell apart in two pieces.  A bolt of plasma whizzed an inch from her face, striking the commando droid coming up behind her.  "Thank you,  Cross." 

He climbed down from his position as Wrecker barreled by,  slamming into droids like a human wrecking ball.  "I never miss."

"I know,  darling." She chuckled fondly. "Would you ask Hunter if the civilians are clear of the blast radius yet. I'm afraid I don't have my comm."

He nodded stiffly.  "Hunter, you clear?"

"Just got the last prisoners back to where we parked the speeders."

Crosshair nodded. Miria smiled. "Wrecker! Time for the grand finale!"

"About time!"

Crosshair scooped Miria up, tossing her casually over his shoulder and running out of the base. "Cross… darling, I can walk…"

He ignored her, so she simply busied herself with deflecting a few stray blaster shots from behind until Wrecker caught up with them and set off the detonation.  

When they reached the group of refugees, Hunter chuckled.  "You alright,  General?"

"This is most undignified." She dropped her cheek in her hand,  elbow in the snipers back.  

Chisee giggled, poking her head around the group. "You are a Jedi!"

Miria smiled fondly.  "I am. And this is Clone Force 99. Now let's get you lovely people home."

Hunter chuckled.  "Already called the nearest reinforcements. Transports are on the way."

"Good man, Hunter. Now… Crosshair,  will you put me down?"

"No."

[cyro-starfire]

Cyro meeting Lemon Monster for the first time - Lemcy fic

⚠️WARNINGS FOR THIS FIC: OC X CANON, VIOLENCE, CUSSING, KISSING, CRINGE⚠️

Character colors

Blue - Boyfriend

Red - Girlfriend

Green - Pico

Pink - Cyro

Orange - Lemon Monster

The night was still young, the stars shine brightly throughout the night sky, the full moon also gave a brilliant light that made the night seem less dark. Pico, Girlfriend, Boyfriend, and Cyro were having as friend's night out, just the four of them. They generally used their time in the night to goof around and have fun, visiting parks, getting ice cream and just messing around with each other.

As the night grew they decided to sleep over at Pico's place for the night, Girlfriend told her parents about it so they wouldn't panic if Girlfriend didn't get home tonight. On their way to Pico's house Pico noticed the mansion that Girlfriend's parent's had owned, the same one where Bee and Gee met the spooky kids Skid and Pump.

"Ayo, Bee, ain't that the same house you met those kids in?" Pico asked Boyfriend. "Hrm?" Boyfriend looked over and noticed the house. "Oh yeah, it is, what about it?" "Well ain't it also the same house where you told me you like dissed a weird lemon headed monster thing?" Pico added. "Uhh...y-yeah...? Where are you going with this Pico?" Boyfriend asked slightly nervous of what Pico's intentions could've possibly been...

"Well, it's been a long ass time since I had a good scare, not even Cassandra's stupid ass could scare me, you said the guy was genuinely terrifying, I wanna be the judge of that shit!" Pico exclaimed. "DUDE! ARE YOU FUCKIN INSANE? THAT FUCKER WANTED TO EAT ME AND BAE!" Boyfriend responded with a shocked screech. "Dude come on, how bad can it be for me? Besides, Gee can't die remember?" Pico tried to remind Boyfriend. "But he was still fucking creepy, even for a dearest like me." Girlfriend admitted.

"For real?" Pico asked, astounded by Girlfriend of all people admitting that. "Yeah dude." "Well if that's the case, i think it's about time you introduced me to him!" Pico chuckled. "DUDE NO! ARE YOU FUCKING CRAZY?! PLUS WHAT IF CYRO GETS HURT?!" Girlfriend states to Pico, obviously not happy that he would want to do something this reckless and life threatening. Pico looked at Cyro and felt bad that he almost forgot that they were there..."Well...you guys know I'll shoot up anything hostile." He responds bluntly. "Come on, it'll be worth it, i wanna meet this fucker" Girlfriend and Boyfriend looked at each other and then looked at Cyro for their input.

"o-o-oh uhm..." Cyro was taken aback by the situation being suddenly focused around them. "Do you think you'll be able to handle this shit Cy?" Boyfriend asks the alien in a gentle tone, as to not put more stress on Cy. "w-w-well i-i m-m-mean uh...i-i guess it sh-shouldn't b-be too b-bad if P-Pico is the o-one protecting us..." They replied quietly but not too quiet to where Bee and Gee couldn't hear. "You sure?" "I-I'm p-positive! P-Please don't w-worry about m-me too m-much!" Cyro reassures the two. Bee and Gee look at Cyro for a while and sighed. "Alright just...stay close to us alright?" Cyro nods in response.

Girlfriend finally responded to Pico "Okay, fine we'll go in again..." Pico cheered. "HELL YEAH! LES FUCKING GO!!!" Pico screamed out in joy as he immediately darted towards the mansion and wasted no time to get in, the other three followed but not as enthusiastic as Pico, they were more reluctant if anything, especially Girlfriend...

The inside of the mansion felt as dead and haunted as the first time Girlfriend and Boyfriend went inside it together for the first time. "I still hate looking at the inside of this hellscape babe..." Boyfriend shuddered. "Me too honey bun..." "Awe come on you guys are pussies!" Pico giggled. "EASY FOR YOU TO SAY MAN, YOU FUCKING KILLED A HUGE ASS ALIEN WHEN WE WERE IN FUCKING SCHOOL!" Boyfriend screeched at Pico in anger only making Pico laugh more. Cyro was shaking like a leaf, clinging tightly onto Girlfriend's red dress. "Y-You okay Cy?" Girlfriend asked, worried about the shivering alien. "i-i-i-i-i'm g-g-g-good..." Cyro whimpered silently.

"Okay this was obviously a bad idea, I'm pretty sure this place alone is gonna make Cy have a huge panic attack.." Boyfriend sighed but was cut off by Cyro. "N-N-NO! I-i-i-i-i'm okay, i-i promise...i-i-it's j-j-j-just c-c-cold here..." "You sure Cy?" Pico asked, concerned as well. "Y-Yeah...t-trust me g-guys i-i'm fine!" The alien tried their best to reassure the three, which only resulting in Pico, Bee and Gee sighing in unison, they couldn't just back out on this so quickly...right...?

After some time of exploring the mansion, it did take some time for Pico to get genuinely spooked by the place... "Wow...y'all weren't fuckin around..." He chuckled nervously. "This place is creepy as fuck...why do your parents even own this place to begin with Gee?" Girlfriend shrugged "I don't know man, sometimes they don't even make sense to me..." She responds. "Wait, so you admit your scared then?" Boyfriend asks with a slight giggle.

"WH-WHAT?! N-NO?! I AIN'T FUCKIN SCARED BEE!!" "Ya sure Pico?" Boyfriend giggled even more. "Your sure acting like your scared!" "THERE'S A FUCKIN DIFFERENCE WITH BEING SCARED AND BEING CREEPED OUT YOU FUCK NUT, GET THAT THROUGH YOUR THICK ASS HEAD!" "Okay but your stuttering, your clearly pissing yourself dude." "NO I FUCKIN AIN'T!" "Yeah you are!" "SHUT THE FUCK UP!!!" Pico screamed. And thus, an argument began with the two boys, Girlfriend sighed. Some things never really do change, do they? Cyro looked away from the arguing boys only to be met with an odd looking shadow in the distance. "h-h-h-huh?"

"g-g-guys...?" Cyro tried to get everyone's attention but they couldn't be heard over Boyfriend and Pico so they had to try again "G-Guys?" Still not being heard over, so Cyro took a deep breath and reluctantly scream to get their attention. "GUYS!" With them finally being heard all three of them turned their heads to look at the quivering alien. "Is something wrong Cy?"

"u-uh y-yeah, WHAT TH-THE FUCK IS THAT?!" The alien screeched in terror pointing at the lemon shaped shadow that was hiding behind a door. "What's wh- oh...oh no..." "B-B-Bee...?" "What the fu..." The shadow suddenly had a visible smile and finally spoke. "Well, well, well~ what do we have here~? A three course meal~? How thoughtful of you all~!" The voice was deep, soothing, and mesmerizing. The creature slowly opened the door and stepped out.

As seen through the shadow it had a yellow, lemon shaped head, it's eyes were huge with wide pupils within them, it's teeth were uncomfortably crooked, it's neck was a velvet red and the rest of it's body was a pitch, raven black, it had two fingers on each hand, and it had only two toes on each foot. The creature was very tall in compared to the four other beings within the room, it towered over all of them.

"It has been quite a long while since i have seen you two~! And i see you've brought that little schizophrenic ginger friend of yours~! And-" the monster paused to look at Cyro behind Girlfriend, still scared out of their mind. "Well now~! Who's this little friend of yours~? They look rather...appetizing~ in more ways then one if i must be so bold to say~!" He said, attempting to slowly approach Cy but was stopped by Girlfriend. "Don't go near them...O R E L S E . . ." She warned it with a growl, which only made the lemon headed monster roll its eyes in annoyance. "And you still don't know how to not be so RUDE..." The monster growled.

"Better not try jack shit bitch, i know how to use this thing." Pico aimed the gun towards the monster which only made it boom with laughter. "You think a puny little weapon like that scares me? How adorable~!" It chuckled before lunging at Girlfriend and attacked her which made Pico start firing bullets at the creature, and Cy ran as fast as they could into an empty hallway. Boyfriend stood still, he didn't wanna engage in the violence, he didn't sign up for this shit man...

After the monster and Girlfriend fought, monster while doing a number on Girlfriend decided that enough damage was done and went after Cyro. Pico and Boyfriend, instead of knowing Girlfriend can easily heal, and going after the monster and making sure he doesn't hurt them, went to Girlfriend to see if she was okay, Cyro was sobbing and whimpering while running, wanting to be home right now and not here.

"FUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCK!!! I KNEW THIS WAS A BAD IDEA WHY DID I TRY TO LOOK BRAVE FOR EVERYONE HHHH!!!!" The alien screamed internally and wished that they were just honest so that none of this would be happening right now, after some running they found themself in a dead end, and what was worse is that they could hear the monster's footsteps. "NONONONONONONONONONO PLEASE PLEASE OH PLEASE I DON'T WANNA DIE, WHY ME, WHY ME. WHY ME!!!" As much as they hated themself, but they were still terrified of dying, especially like this...

The monster got closer and closer until he was visible again which only heightened Cyro's anxiety, their heart was pounding through their chest and their breathing was rapid, they could barley think straight at all. "There you are my dear~!" The monster cooed. "p-p-p-please leave m-m-me alone..." They whimpered quietly. "Oh don't worry dear~! I won't kill you~! Will i possibly hurt you? Maybe, but then again..." He got closer to them and pinned them against the wall, he slowly put his two fingered claws against their face, and caressed their face gently.

"I would feel guilty if i caused any sort of harm to an adorable and beautiful creature such as yourself~!" It whispered in their ear making Cyro blush deeply and shudder they were so confused by this behavior. "You know, i normally don't have such feelings for prey...but you...your different..." The monster explained to Cyro. "wh-what d-do you m-mean...?" "I mean what i mean my sweet cherry cake~! Your seem like such a delicate creature~!" The monster slowly moved it's claws under Cyro's chin and began to rub the bottom of their chin gently. Cyro couldn't help but purr at the sensation.

The monster chuckled at Cyro's purring, they were so adorable. "Perhaps i won't eat you~ your so sweet, I'm afraid that if I eat you, I'll get a cavity~!" The monster joked. Cyro didn't respond, they only continued to purr at the monster rubbing their chin, until he took his claw away from their chin which only made them whine. "wh-why'd y-you st-" they were interrupted by the monster giving them a soft and gentle kiss on the lips, which surprised Cyro at first, but they slowly sunk into the kiss and kissed the monster back. There was some time before they broke away from the kiss, Cyro panted softly while looking at the creature

The monster chuckled. "While i would love to keep you, i fear that i have aggravated your friends enough, so unfortunately this will be goodbye for now, but i will be back soon, my little prey, until we meet again~!" The monster whispered to them beore giving them a kiss on the cheek and disappeared into the shadows again. Which only left Cyro in confusion but at the same time, they felt like they've fallen in love again.

After some time Pico, Boyfriend and Girlfriend found Cy, fortunately for them Cyro was okay, and the four of them darted out of the house as soon as fucking possible. Cyro never really forgot about that day ever since...

[fancycakedragon]

I Love You

Tommy Kinkle x Witch!Reader

Warning(s): none

A/N: this is the second part to Me, A Witch?! I suggest you start from there. Happy reading.

Masterlist

When you saw her again Sabrina got an earful from you. How could she be so careless with a secret that came down to life or death. Tommy or Harvey could say the wrong thing to the wrong person and they could end up dead. Or worse, they could tip off a hunter without even knowing it leaving the Witch population in Greendale at the mercy of a phsychopath. Sabrina had never seen you so livid. You and Ambrose were the only two people that were her safe havens from the community of dark magic. She knew it was ok once you gave her a hug because damn she needed someone on her side.

A few days later you had been called to meet with Father Blackwood to discuss urgent matters. It was rare for Blackwood to make such a request since you had graduated from the school of dark arts two years ago but who were you question your superior.

When you got to his office, Blackwood gave you permission to enter. You sat on the seat across his desk staring back at his calculating gaze. "Tell me, Y/N, how have you been faring as Ms. Spellman's tutor?"

"She's doing quite well," you answered, "but I don't think that is your main concern." You weren't sure what Father Blackwood wanted from you but it wasn't this.

Recognizing the suspicious look in your eye Blackwood decided to just cut to the chase. "It has come to my attention that you are in a relationship with a human, is this true?"

You felt dread seep into your core as your hands got sweaty, "Well, yes but-"

"And you are aware that this breaks witch and warlock law, yes?"

"Well in the case of High Preist Spellm-"

"Don't you dare bring up that disgraceful man," Blackwood spat. He stood and began to pace his office. "This reckless disregard for sacred witch law will not be tolerated under my watch. Now, you will go to the mortal that you stupidly decided to grow affections for and you will end all relations with him. To be clear, you cannot allow this relationship to continue any further. If you do I will have you know that there are far worse fates than any harrowing or being cut off from the church." With both hands resting on either side of your seat Father Blackwood leaned towards you menancingly. "Am I clear?"

With a tight nod you aswered, "Yes, Father Blackwood."

Blackwood stood back up smoothing out his clothes before he made his way back to his seat, "Get out of my sight."

Without a word you sped out of the office and left the school shaken.

Three days after your meeting with Blackwood and you still hadn't spoken to Tommy. You ignored all calls, messages, and even pretended to be gone when he came to your apartment. You needed to find a way to break up with him but didn't know how. You knew for a fact that Blackwood hated Sabrina's father for choosing to marry a human so now that he was incharge it wasn't going to happen again. You weren't even going to think about what would happen to you or Tommy as punishment for being together.

After a day of moping and wine drinking, Wednesday evening was when you decided it was going to happen. You were going to break up with Tommy Kinkle. It was bound to happen anyways. You were going to outlive him and that kind of information would easily dampened your relationship further ahead.

It was the end of another work day when Tommy saw you waiting for him by his truck. The worry on his face was evident when he hurried over to you.

"Y/N, are you ok? I haven't gotten to talk to you in a while," Tommy took your hand in his. "I missed you."

You pulled your hand away and ignored the hurt expression on his face, "We need to talk."

"Um, yeah sure. About what exactly?"

"Us."

Tommy felt something was wrong but gave a strained smile anyways, "Can we go talk at the cafe?"

You wordlessly nodded before disappearing in the blink of any eye.

Tommy made it to the cafe to find you had already ordered a coffee for him and just water for you. He went over to the table you were sitting at.

"Y/N what's going on?"

"I'm just going to be straight foward get this done. Tommy, I'm breaking up with you."

Tommy opened and closed his mouth trying to figure out what to say. "I-you-we-why?"

You gave a shaky shigh before continuing, "Please don't make this harder than it has to be."

"Why, I thought we were happy, I thought you were happy."

"See Tommy, you're making this harder!"

"Oh, so I want to know why you're ending our relationship and you think I'm making this hard?!" Tommy whispered in frustration.

"You were moving too fast Tommy and I don't want this the way you do!"

"You couldn't have just told me you wanted to take things slow?!"

"I'm not used to human monogamy, ok? You're gonna age and die and I'll still be here! I'm done and if you know what's good for you, you'll stay away from me." You stood up and left the cafe without another word only for Tommy to run after you.

"Someone's making you do this!"

You stopped in you tracks holding back tears. "Leave me alone Tommy Kinkle," you tried to keep your voice steady but he could hear the quiver in your words.

"I love you," Tommy's words hung in the crisp evening air as he waited for a reaction. "That's what I've trying to tell you for so long but, I was too scared. Not anymore, I love you Y/N L/N. I don't know what's going on but please, can let's work through this?"

You turned to face Tommy and were once again looking into the same kind brown eyes that warmed you from within. "I don't know what'll happen to you if we're together any more. I honestly don't want to find out. This ends here Tommy, right now. Go home."

"Fine. Take it off."

"What?"

Tommy looked at you in masked annoyance, "The protection spell you put on me. Bruises disappearing, injuries healing in a day, you really think I wouldn't notice? If this is over you have then you shouldn't care."

You blinked back tears once again and said an short incantation releasing Tommy from your protection spell. He felt a tug at the back of his head as if a hair was plucked from there.

"You're free," you were about to finally leave when you turned back. "I'm sorry."

Tommy stuffed his hands in his pockets and shrugged avoiding looking at you. He clenched his jaw as he watched you go and did his best to control himself from stopping you again.

The next day was when you heard the news from Sabrina. It was the at mine, the accident, the exact day after you had lifted the protection spell.

You sat down unable to speak with Sabrina watching you carefully. Deep breathes you thought to yourself. It didn't matter though. It hurt. Everything hurt so much you it all became numb. How were you even going to start healing. You loved Tommy and now he was gone. Deceased. Extenguished. Dead.

Suddenly your whole body shook and everything in your apartment did as well when you screamed. The agony was too much to contain within yourself.

Sabrina's first instinct was to comfort you, "Y/N!"

"LEAVE!" You sobbed, "Leave me alone!"

The force of your powers pushed Sabrina straight to the door. She had no choice but to go.

---

You were cleaning up a glass bottle you had broken when you saw it. Peaking out from under your couch was a polaroid. It was you and Tommy when you had spent a week at your family's cottage by the lake. Remembering the carefree time spent together was too much.

You held back your emotions and sighed before kissing the photo.

"I love you too."

-----

Requests are open!

[zalrb]

I probably shouldn't be asking you so maybe this is for the hard core Elena anons. Why is Elena their favorite character? *Imo* -- the writers made Elena a very mediocre character but in saying that I still love SE. I love SE because of how they were written and I believed what was written & portrayed onscreen. With Elena I think she had potential to be a good character but they didn't allow her to be flawed on her own. They didn't allow her to grow from her experiences or hear her 'voice'.

I think it may be because of who she was supposed to be, like I’ll post a response I did to an ask once.

Anonymous: Can you and your mutuals help me get a firmer grasp on Elena's character?! Stefan and Caroline both have (IMO) a few clear, salient strengths and consistent flaws, but most other TVD characters, including Elena, are just sort of whatever the current storyline needs them to be at the time. I hate that the show's female protagonist doesn't have a clearly defined personality.                                                                                                                                                                               

Elena does have a clearly defined personality the problem is that the personality lacks follow through and therefore it doesn’t have clearly defined execution.

Elena is supposed to be a deeply empathetic and compassionate person who loves passionately and makes reckless decisions to keep those she loves safe. She is supposed to be a caretaker, which is why in 2x04 when Caroline is trying to drive a wedge between her and Stefan she tells Elena she’s too maternal not to have kids. She is supposed to be understanding and non-judgemental, which gives her the ability to ‘see the good in everyone.’ She is also supposed to have “darkness” in her because she will do morally questionable things to ensure the outcome she wants and she can be emotionally manipulative although that’s mostly towards Damon. And after watching season 2, I’m realizing she is supposed to have a legit martyr complex.

But like I said, the problem is follow-through. Elena can’t have a martyr complex when the narrative works so hard to keep her from actually having to sacrifice anything, the intent to martyr herself is not enough because it makes the audience go, easy for you to say, Elena, you don’t actually have to be the Bonnie in this situation, do you?

Elena being empathetic and compassionate doesn’t really work that well when she’s dating the man who single-handedly terrorized each and every one of her friends and she doesn’t even come across as a good friend because when she is with her friends, if they’re not talking about her problems and are instead talking about Caroline’s issues and the one, two times they talk about Bonnie, Elena doesn’t say much, she usually just shrugs or makes a noise (and that’s not Elena’s fault, that’s the writing’s fault).

Her being maternal and caretaker doesn’t work well when Elena doesn’t actually do much to show this. All she really does is hug people and that’s not enough. When Jeremy is a legit drug dealer in season 1 and gets into a fight with Tyler when he’s drunk and has an actual bottle, Elena literally lets Jeremy walk away, she pretty much let’s Jeremy do his own thing, if she’s as worried about him as the show is trying to tell us she is, then that’s when Elena goes to the smokers den and drags him into class, it’s when she’s blowing up his phone and calling everyone he hangs out with. She needs to be involved not passively concerned.

And the other thing is because Elena is supposed to be such a nice person and the show just wants to make her this wholeheartedly good person they forget that good people can have complex emotions. Like this is a weird example because the whole point of The Good Place is that the protagonist Eleanor was shitty when she was alive and now that she’s dead, she’s trying so hard to be a good person but either way, she’s ready to make a sacrifice for the friend group and she’s telling another friend he has to make it with her and he’s like But I don’t wanna! And she’s like I DON’T WANNA EITHER, MAN, but we HAVE to do this because they don’t deserve to suffer for something that we did! This is what it is to be a good person! Elena should have that. Elena should struggle with the idea of martyring herself, she should be like Stefan, do you really think I want to die? I’m seventeen, of course I don’t want to die, this entire situation sucks but what sucks more is that everyone else is bending over backwards doing things that will get them killed to make sure I stay alive, I would rather just be dead. You can call me selfish if you want, but none of you are dying if I can help it. Just something like that. Instead we get her having a breakdown over the fact that she was supposed to grow up and have kids and not become a vampire, they should’ve changed that to her breaking down about the choice she made but also not regretting it.

And then even with the darkness … I mean you see her do things like stab Rebekah in the back and have Damon compel Jeremy (it should not have been Damon, putting the man who killed her brother in charge of compelling his memory to keep him safe is fucked up, but that’s not an Elena thing, that’s the writers not paying attention to the dynamics they’ve created) but in seasons 4 and 5 when it was supposed to be how Elena has changed and her “purity” level has been hella diluted, the issue with that is she actually isn’t darker, she’s just screwing Damon and that makes her shitty, not dark. And every “dark” thing she does like kill Connor and turn off her humanity is because she’s Sired to Damon, that’s the show protecting her and not making her actually dark so they don’t follow through. That’s the issue.