#the blaster missed his owner

[notsohumerusnow]

Once Red had finished appeasing the excited blaster, much like one would scratch and pet a puppy whom had been eagerly awaiting their owners return all day, he began for the gap in the rock and slipped back into Waterfall, blaster in tow. The cooler temperature was jarring for a brief moment, the moisture a stark contrast to the dry heat of the Hotlands. Offering a glance towards the now-tainted lake, he shuddered internally at the memory of the taste before turning to his companion. Another reassuring pat and he was climbing on top of that pet of his, straddling it like one would ride a horse if a horse was only a head and allowing it to lift him effortlessly to the upper corners of the cavern.

He hovered close to the egg on the ceiling, offering him a nod of acknowledgement before beginning off on their journey back. It was fortunate that much of Waterfall had high cavernous ceilings, making the only challenge the avoidance of hanging stalactites that may obstruct their lofty path.

From overhead, the field of echoflowers they had once passed through looked peaceful, the rivers rushing in dark ribbons through the rock. It wasn't long before they were over the river with the broken bridge, the Temmies nowhere to be seen.

Truly, the reaction to his offer was amusement enough - the discomfort, the reluctance… If he in turn were the type to wear his emotions on his sleeve, he'd probably chuckle. As it was, he simply awaited answers to his inquiries and otherwise; when the first was received, it was welcome news. One, single, small thing that might not even be alive was a much better thing to contend with than the eldritch fiends that populated the land and--well, maybe not so much the water anymore.

And when the second - the answer to his offer - was presented, Gaster took a moment to observe both skeleton and blaster. It was a pity he hadn't arrived to be able to see the timeline prior to its CORE exploding. Had everything been bigger and sharper and objectively intimidating? He could not imagine how such soft persons as Toriel or nervous wrecks as Alphys might appear or behave in such wildly different conditions. It wasn't necessarily the time to be getting lost in wondering about such things, either.

"Wonderful," he said, seeing as Red's visual focus was elsewhere in that moment--the reason being was, also very much objectively, 'cute.' Alas, he had not the capability to feel warm fuzzies; it was, however, an informative moment. Given its size, it probably packed more of a punch than a regular-sized blaster. The fried egg therefore made the mental note to make sure that its big-boned wielder was well worn down before moving on to a more oppositional phase. The extraneous six mitts popped out of existence as he headed for and ducked through the gap with the not-quite-parting words, "I will meet you two up there."

Stepping to the side so that he was well out of sight, the egghead went from having two feet on the ground to having two feet on the ceiling within milliseconds, after which he had to take a moment to fiddle with his scarf due to a smidge of poor planning. Once it was out of his face, the loose ends tucked into the voidstuff of his construct of a coat, he looked technically upwards-down towards the gap between the regions.

[varpusvaras]

Fox is being punished. 

That has to be it. He had been a bad Commander, a bad soldier, a bad brother. All he had ever done had been mistakes, one after the other, leading up to his miserable end. 

But even after that, even after his body had been broken, even after he had had to lay there, in pain and numb, slowly choking out because no matter how much he had wanted to, his lungs would not draw in another breath. The only mercy he had been granted there had been the fact that he had lost consciousness before the end had actually arrived, so he had not had to actually see it. 

Fox had known when the end had come, though. There had been a flash of something, a landscape of rivers and lights he had fallen through, all the way back towards the hard ground beneath him. 

Then, he had stood there, watching himself laying on that hard ground, unmoving and cold. 

Fox had watched as his men had gathered around him, how they tried to find a pulse, even though Fox himself could tell it had been too late just by looking at himself. He had looked like a doll that had been played too harshly with, and then left behind, once his owner had grown bored with him. 

Fox had watched as his men had gathered his body and covered it, despite the fact that he had still had his entire armor on. He had watched them carry it away. 

Fox had not followed them. 

He knows what happens to all the bodies already. 

He did…he did not want to see himself go through it. 

It is selfish of him, he knows. He should’ve followed them, should’ve watched himself burn, like all of his brothers before him, who had been fortunate enough to make it back. It shouldn’t have mattered. 

He is already dead, after all. 

Still, he had not followed them. Instead, he just continues to stand there, at the foot of the Temple, where he had taken his last breath. 

He had thought he would see his brothers again. 

He had thought that he would finally get to apologise to Thorn. He had thought that Thorn would throw his arm around his shoulders and call him stupid for thinking that he had something to apologise for. 

He had thought that he would get to run to Ponds’s arms again. He had thought he would get to be held, and his older brother, always forgiving, would tell him that he still loved him, no matter what. 

Fox stares at the ground, where his body had fallen. 

It seems that once again, he had thought he deserved more than he was ever meant to. 

— — — 

Fox is being punished. 

That has to be it. He is being punished for all his failures, by having him witness the same things happen over and over again, but this time, he is even more helpless than ever before. 

He watches as his brothers continue to die. He watches as bolts that he could’ve warned them about hit them over and over again, because his voice doesn’t carry anymore.

He watches as his brothers continue to lose themselves, pulling the triggers of their blasters over and over again, because his hands are as much nothing as the air around them is. 

He watches as the Galaxy continues to fall deeper and deeper into the darkness. 

He watches it all, and he knows it is his fault. 

— — — 

Fox thinks about visiting Alderaan, sometimes. 

He misses it. It’s weird. He misses a place that he has never been to. He misses a place that was never his home, and never would be. 

He misses- 

Fox pushes the thought away from his mind, frightened of the possibility of what will happen if he thinks about it, thinks about them too much. He is not tied to the laws of regular travelling of the Universe anymore, and he is afraid that if he thinks too much, the next thing he knows, he will be standing there, looking right at them. 

He can’t do that. 

— — — 

Fox watches Bly die. 

His screams don’t reach him before he is gone, and they don’t reach him after. 

— — — 

Fox watches Stone die. 

He screams, again, even though he knows it’s pointless. He screams at him, orders him to get up, orders him not to leave Thire alone to this place. 

Stone doesn’t hear him. He dies, bleeding out in front of Fox, his blood flowing through Fox’s hands, no matter how hard Fox tries to hold it all in. 

— — — 

Fox watches his brothers die. 

He still tries, for some reason. Tries to hold them, tries to keep them from falling apart, tries to tell them they aren’t alone as they fade. 

He tries, because he has to. Because he didn’t try hard enough when he still had the chance. 

— — — 

He thinks of Rex a lot, whenever he sits by one of his brothers during their last moments. 

He thinks of Rex and the ARC Trooper in Rex’s arms and with a hole in his chest, and he sees himself holding the weapon. 

Fox is being punished. 

— — — 

Fox watches his brothers die. 

He stays with them until the end. 

All of them leave Fox after. 

— — — 

Fox surrounds himself with his brothers. 

He sits there, among them, the living and the dead. He listens to their voices, he watches their faces, he searches their eyes for recognition as they look towards him. 

It never comes. They can only look towards Fox, but not at him. 

Fox doesn’t know if he even wants them to see him. 

He doesn’t want them to leave him. 

He closes his eyes and listens to his brothers’ voices.

— — — 

Fox watches Wolffe. 

He follows him around as he goes across the Galaxy, and closes his eyes whenever he pulls the trigger. 

Fox watches Cody. 

He follows him around as he goes across the Galaxy, and holds his hand whenever he pulls the trigger. 

Fox watches them destroy themselves, and all he can do is cry silent, invisible tears. 

— — — 

Fox watches his brothers die. 

As he sits there, in a pool of blood that cannot stain him any further, he knows that he is being punished. 

He can’t take it anymore. 

Fox is being punished, and there is no place left for him that won’t hurt him further. 

He still goes, wishing for the reprieve of a different kind of pain. 

— — — 

The sun is setting when Fox arrives to Alderaan. 

He stands there, at the gates to the Palace, and watches the sun disappear behind the mountains and paint the sky with the colors of the warmth he can not feel anymore. 

He only has enough courage to enter through the gates once the sky has begun to turn dark. 

He remembers the stories Bail and Breha had told him. He remembers the terraces Bail had told him about, the ones where he would sit with Breha whenever he was back home. He remembers the halls Bail had described to him, the ones where he and Breha would dance in when they had the time, when they had a moment just for themselves to enjoy. 

He remembers the corridors and hallways Breha had told him about, the ones she had grown up running through, her shoes forgotten in the haste of seeing the ships leave in the morning. 

With the stories playing in his mind, he wanders through the Palace, all the way to the living rooms of the Queen and her Consort. 

Fox can hear them, through the door. He recognises the low, gentle sway of Bail’s voice, and he knows the melody of Breha’s voice as she speaks. 

He stands there, outside their door, and listens to them speak words he cannot make out. 

Bail says something. Breha laughs. 

Fox smiles. His tears don’t burn his eyes anymore. 

He sits on the floor and leans against their door, and he listens. 

— — — 

When the morning comes, Fox hides. 

He’s not hiding because he fears they will see him. He knows painfully well by now that he is invisible to the Galaxy as it is now. 

No, he hides, so that he can’t see them. 

So it goes. Fox hides in the halls and rooms of the Palace, living as a shadow in the house that was never his home, and he listens to the voices of the people he had once hoped would be his home. 

He knows the sound of Bail’s footsteps already, and he quickly learns Breha’s as well. Sometimes, he catches a glimpse of them, and he averts his eyes, no matter how much he wants to do nothing else than just look at them. 

There’s pain waiting for him in their faces, and there is pain here, where he doesn’t see them. 

Fox is being punished, after all. 

When the night falls, he sits by their door and listens to them talk. 

Bail says something. Breha laughs. 

There is silence. 

Breha cries. 

It’s an awful sound. 

Fox thinks that it’s his fault.

— — — 

Breha is not back to the Palace yet. 

Fox still sits in front of their door, even though there is no conversation going on on the other side. 

It’s silent, for a long while, but then there is noise. 

Bail is crying. 

It’s an awful sound. 

Fox thinks it’s his fault, too. 

After all, had he not ruined everything that Bail had worked so long for?

— — — 

They have a child, now. 

It’s impossible for Fox to not know that. Everyone around him is talking about her. 

The little Princess of Alderaan. 

Fox knows that they always wanted children. They talked about it often. So often, that sometimes, when Fox had been foolish enough for a moment, he had imagined a little girl himself, a little girl with dark eyes and dark hair, with a toothy smile and bright laugh. 

A little girl, just for them. 

He’s happy for them. He really is. He knows how much they wanted to have a child. A little girl, just for them. 

Fox had always known that he had been nothing more than a pawn on the board of war. 

Somehow, there is still a new pain to be found, from the realisation that the Galaxy and the lives in it would continue to move forward even without him. 

They have a child, now. A little girl, just for them, like it had been before Fox, and how it is now without him. 

— — — 

The little Princess has not been sleeping properly, lately. 

Fox doesn’t know a lot about babies, but he has heard some say that it is quite normal for them to sometimes go through periods where they seem to be doing nothing more than cry, day and night. 

The little Princess has certainly been doing that for the past week. 

Her cries always start the same. First as a few hiccups, that will eventually grow to sobs, and then to loud, demanding and shrill screams, that will go and and on, before she grows tired, and her little voice becomes hoarse, until she has the energy to just whimper. 

Fox hates the sound. He hates every second of every part of it. 

There is a need inside of him. A need that tells him that he must stand up, that he must walk through the door, that he must take the child and soothe her until she stops crying, that he must do so until she is happy again. 

He wonders if this was what the Prime felt like when he had been given his son. 

The little Princess cries. Fox listens to it, his teeth drawing blood that will not flow from his lip as he bites down on it, in order to keep himself composed. Breha and Bail sound both exhausted, as far as Fox can hear through the door, but still, they carry on, trying their best to soothe their daughter, as she continues to cry. 

Eventually, a silence falls. 

It draws on, far longer than it has in many days. 

Fox listens to it for a while, until it becomes simply too much. For a week, he has been holding himself together, and now, during a moment of peace, he has run out of any patience he had still had left.

He stands, and moves into the rooms on the other side of the door. 

He moves slowly and quietly through the dark living room. It feels appropriate, still, even though he makes no sound anymore for anyone to hear. He glances at the marks of a long life together, a life that he was just a small, brief moment in, and makes his way to the bedroom. 

Fox does hesitate for a long moment before he actually steps in. It feels like he is intruding, no matter how many times there had been promises, promises of this place, promises for his place exactly here. After all, those promises had never been able to come through, all because of Fox himself. There is no place for him here, anymore. 

Bail and Breha are both asleep. Fox can see them lay on the bed, turned towards each other in their slumber. Breha is curled against Bail, and Bail is curled around her, his back to Fox, like he is protecting her. 

Fox finally looks at them properly, now that they have their eyes closed. 

He feels like a stranger, stumbling upon a picture of a perfect life. It has been a while since he has wished for anything else than the final mercy of true death be granted upon him, but now, there is a longing for a life inside of him, burning him cold. 

He stands there and he longs, longs for two things he cannot have at the same time. 

Fox is being punished. 

There is a small, dim light on at the nightstand on the other side of the bed, and next to it, is a small cot. 

Fox tiptoes around the bed, and he slowly, so slowly and carefully, makes his way to the cot and looks in. 

She is sleeping there, the little Princess of Alderaan. She has a round face and small body, and tiny arms and legs with even tinier hands and feet. 

There is a tuft of brown hair on top of her head. 

Fox has a feeling that if her eyes were open, he would see that they were also dark. 

A little girl, with dark eyes and brown hair. 

A little girl, just for them. 

There she is, just like Fox had imagined her. 

There she is, now that Fox is not. 

She makes little sounds when she sleeps. Tiny gasps and soft sniffles, and even tinier whines every now and then as she shifts around a bit, her eyelids fluttering for a second before she settles back down. 

Fox cannot look away. 

He stands there, looking at her, at her round cheeks and tiny nose, at the tiny shadows her little eyelashes are casting on her skin, at the way her hair is longer at her forehead and curls ever so slightly towards the left side of her head. 

She whines a little, then again, a little louder. Breha shifts a little on the bed behind Fox. 

She needs her rest. 

Fox knows it doesn’t matter, but he hums. 

There hadn’t been any songs for them when Fox had been little. No lullabies or nursery rhymes. The only songs that had been sung to them had been the endless melodies of the ocean and its waves, and the songs of war, of bravery and brotherhood. 

None of them are suitable to be sung to a little Princess in the dead of the night, to lull her back to sleep. 

It’s a good thing, then, that she cannot hear him. 

Still, despite all of this, Fox hums the song to her, the song of his brothers and their hearts. He hums the song over and over again, with his voice that cannot tire anymore, as it is as soundless as it was eternal. 

The whines stop. She squirms around a bit, before she settles again, and stays there for the rest of the night. 

Fox flees when the morning comes and he hears Bail awaken. 

— — — 

Now that Fox has given a part of himself, he cannot take it back anymore. 

He goes in the next night, stands there next to the cot and looks at the little Princess, and he hums the song for her. She sleeps through night after night. 

Fox knows he is only deluding himself in thinking he is actually helping in any way. 

He still leaves every morning. 

— — — 

Babies grow fast. 

Fox notices it all by himself without anyone having to tell him. She seems to get bigger after every week. 

Leia. The little Princess. A little girl, just for them. 

She is five months now, Fox had heard Breha mention it the day before. 

Fox realises that she must’ve been born right after the Rise of the Empire. 

It feels like it has been a lot longer than that. 

— — — 

Fox hums. Leia had fallen asleep an hour ago, so it was still early into the night. Bail and Breha were also in the bed already, trying to catch as much sleep as they could. 

Fox had really thought they were asleep. 

Until he hears a quiet, choked sob. 

Bail pushes himself up instantly at the sound. Even though Fox could disappear instantly from where he stood, his mind had stopped working for a moment right then, and it’s already too late when the thought to do so finally crosses him.

“Breha?” Bail murmurs. 

Breha doesn’t answer instantly. Fox hears her draw in a deep breath that comes out accompanied by another sob. 

“I-” She says, and tries to breathe in deep again, but her voice just wavers more when she speaks after it. “I miss him. I miss him so much. He was supposed to be here.”

“I know”, Bail says. “I know. I miss him too.” 

Breha buries her face into Bail’s chest and cries.

“He was supposed to be here”, she sobs, digging a hot, burning blade of pain deeper into Fox’s chest with every noise. “He was supposed to be here, with us.” 

It takes Fox a moment to realise that they are talking about him.

He looks Bail in the eyes properly for the first time since before his death. 

They are full of tears, already making their way down his face, steadily and quietly as he holds Breha through her cries, steadfast and strong as always. 

Fox remembers how much he loves them again. 

He wants so badly to reach for them in that moment, he wants so badly for them to see him, to hear him, like he is still there. 

But he is not there.

He continues humming, through his own, quiet and weightless tears, and Leia sleeps through the night. 

— — — 

Fox stays when the morning comes. 

He cannot look away from them anymore, either. So he watches as they dress themselves and then dress Leia, and he follows them when they walk out of the Palace and through the gardens, down the hill and to a smaller garden, away from the main one at the central courtyard. 

Fox didn’t remember either of them ever mentioning it to him. They had both talked so much about all the plants and flowers of the Palace in detail when Fox had asked, in wonder of having living things in such abundance all around, even indoors. 

The little garden looks new, as Fox takes a better look at it. The stones around the flowerbeds have no weather to them yet, and the ground on which the flowers themselves stand is dark and loose and looks like it has just been placed there. 

There are young trees at the center of the garden, their blooming branches arching over white stones in the middle. 

It takes a Fox a moment to realise that it’s a grave. 

There are some petals that have fallen on the stone in the middle. Bail sweeps them away, before resting his hand on top of the stone. 

“Good morning, our love”, he says, and with air that he doesn’t need to breathe stuck inside his throat, Fox reads the writing on the stone. 

Where he lives now is in our hearts

Eternal, everlasting

Like love

Fox Organa

Remembered and lived by his wife, husband and daughter

Oh. 

Fox had thought- he had thought- 

Breha takes Leia’s little hand to hers, and she presses both it and her own hand on top of the stone as well. 

“Good morning, love”, she says. “Say good morning, Buir.”

Leia is five months old. Fox knows that she is too young to know how to speak yet. 

Still, she babbles happily, her little fingers curling against the stone, and Fox-

Fox stands beside his own grave and cries. 

— — — 

He looks at Leia that night as she sleeps. He looks at her round cheeks and tiny nose, her dark hair and tiny hands and feet, the way her chin is shaped and the way her mouth curves. 

He looks at her, and hums a song for her, to their little Princess. To their little girl, a little girl who is just for them. 

Fox sits on the edge of the bed once Bail and Breha are both asleep, and he feels like he somehow belongs, even though he is not there. 

— — — 

Leia is six months old. 

She is still rather small, as far as Fox has understood, but Bail and Breha are not worried by that. Fox trusts that they have a good reason. 

He is sitting on his spot on the edge of the bed, humming the song, as Leia suddenly scrunches her face, looking very much like she is about to cry. 

Fox stands up in a hurry and leans over the cot. 

“Shhh”, he hushes. “Shhh, it’s alright, it’s alright.” 

He only realises that he is trying for nothing, like all the times before, after he has already said the words. 

Indeed, Leia does open her eyes, her face still scrunched up and her mouth drawn tightly, and she blinks rapidly, and- 

She looks up, her dark eyes locking in on Fox’s. 

Fox freezes. 

No. No, she is not looking at him, he reminds himself. She cannot see him, since he is not actually there-

Leia’s face relaxes as she continues staring at him. Her mouth goes lax for a moment, and then it curls into a toothy smile, and she reaches her hands towards him. 

Fox cannot help it. Readying himself for inevitable disappointment, he reaches his hand into the cot. 

Leia’s hands reach for his. First they don’t seem to be able to grasp on anything, but then, all of a sudden, they curl around Fox’s thumb. It feels like there is static between them, as a layer on Fox’s skin, but he can still feel the pressure and a hint of warmth through it. 

Leia looks at him, and smiles. 

Fox smiles back, wavering and on the edge of tears yet again, but he smiles back at her. 

“That’s right”, he says. “It’s alright. Buir is here.” 

Leia falls back asleep that night holding onto Fox’s hand. 

— — — 

There are limits to what Fox can do. 

He cannot lift Leia up properly. He can put his hands under her and lift her maybe half an inch for a second or maybe two, at max. The static feeling is always there whenever she touches him, but Fox can let her hold onto him, and he can lightly brush her head to soothe her. Leia giggles every time Fox runs his finger down the bridge of her nose. 

Fox has no other option than to exist with the fact that there is one person in the whole Galaxy who can see him. 

He cannot touch her as much when she is being held by someone else. He cannot pry her away from Breha or Bail, not that Fox even wants to. 

Breha is holding her on her shoulder as she mixes her a bottle. Leia is a little fussy, hunger making her impatient. 

Fox calls to her, and when Leia looks up at him, he sticks his tongue out at her. 

The fussiness and the hunger are completely forgotten. Leia laughs and clumsily claps her hands together. She shrieks out a louder laugh as Fox does it again. 

Breha turns, and looks around the room. There is still a bang of loss in Fox’s chest as her eyes pass right by him. 

“Something caught your eye?” Breha asks. She is smiling as she looks at Leia, and Fox loves her immensely. 

— — —

Bail stands next to Fox at Leia’s cot. 

Fox had always leaned against him whenever they had stood this close to each other. It had been a habit, born from the fact that Fox had always run cold while Bail had always run warm. 

Fox misses that warmth. 

Bail looks at Leia, who stares right back at him. 

“The last time I checked”, Bail says slowly. “It was way past the bedtime for little Princesses.” 

Leia only grins at Bail, who looks extremely dejected. Fox cannot help but laugh a little. 

Leia’s eyes move to Fox, and she laughs back at him. 

Bail frowns, and turns to look. For a moment, it feels like he is looking straight at Fox, but his eyes never stop searching. 

Fox wants to just lean forward and fall against him. 

He stays put, until Bail’s eyes turn away. 

— — — 

Leia stands up against the couch. 

Carefully, she lets go of it. She looks at Breha, who is sitting just a few meters away from them, and then she looks at Fox, who is sitting on the couch. 

Fox smiles at her. 

“Go on”, he says. “Go on, Leili’ika, you can do it.” 

“Come on”, Breha says, extending her arms towards Leia. “Come on, you can do it!” 

Leia takes one, hesitant step away from the couch. Then another, and another, until she has made it to Breha, who catches her in a hug. 

“There you go!” Breha laughs, and kisses Leia’s cheeks. “There you go, I knew you could do it!” 

Leia giggles, and then looks over at Fox. 

Fox claps his hands. 

“Good job!” He says. Breha puts Leia back down, and Leia turns around, and makes her way towards him with small, wavering steps. She grabs at the couch right in front of Fox, and looks up at him, with a wide, toothy smile. 

Fox glances at Breha.

Breha is looking at Leia, but slowly, her eyes move up, following Leia’s gaze. 

She doesn’t see him, but she keeps looking, almost like she is expecting to see something there. 

She is not smiling anymore. Fox swallows, and turns to look back at Leia. 

Leia is still smiling, and Fox quickly smiles back at her. 

“Good job”, he says again, and runs his thumb over her cheek. “Good job, Leia.” 

Leia giggles again. Breha is still looking when Fox looks back at her. 

— — — 

“Sometimes, it just…” Breha trails off. “....it just seems like she’s really seeing something we’re not.” 

“I know”, Bail says. “But…she always looks happy, correct?” 

Breha nods. 

“Yes”, she answers, and then pauses. “...do you think it’s because of…” 

Bail takes her hand into his. 

“Maybe”, he says, almost whispering. “Maybe. Though I…I cannot imagine what she is seeing. I’ve never heard of anything like this. Obi-Wan or Master Yoda could know, perhaps, but…” 

He cuts himself off, and shakes his head. 

“It’s too dangerous”, he says. 

Fox stares at his hands as he listens to them speak, his mind trying to catch up with what had just been said. 

They aren't all gone. The Jedi are not all gone. 

Obi-Wan Kenobi is alive.

— — — 

Fox goes to see Kenobi that night, after Leia has fallen asleep. 

It’s the middle of the day there, with two suns blaring down on the desert. Fox finds Kenobi easily enough. 

He looks like he has aged several years in just a span of one.

Fox cannot blame him. 

He watches Kenobi for a while, looking for any sign that he can see Fox. 

When none come, Fox steps closer. 

“General?” He calls. “General Kenobi?” 

Nothing. 

Fox tries not to feel disappointed. 

There’s a strange feeling then, like he is being watched. Fox turns around. 

No one around him is looking at him. 

— — — 

Fox goes to visit Cody after. 

He watches as Cody cleans his blaster, just like he always does. He looks like he usually does as well, with his helmet off, and his brows creased in a gentle, concentrated frown. 

Fox wonders what Cody would do, if Fox could tell him that Kenobi is alive. 

Perhaps it’s for the best that he can’t.

Fox returns to Alderaan, and sits on the edge of the bed. Leia makes a sound, and he hums her song to her to settle her back to sleep.

— — — 

Kids are fast. 

Much faster than they have any right to be. Leia especially, because she is still tiny.

“Leia!” Bail calls after her, as she speeds off. “Leia, slow down!” 

Fox can move a lot faster than anyone else. In less than a blink of an eye, he is in front of her, and she hastily slows herself down to a stop. 

“You heard your papa”, Fox says. “Slow down.” 

Leia has the gall to pout at him. 

Bail has now caught up to her as well, and he scoops her up. 

“What are you pouting at?” He asks her, tickling her stomach lightly. 

Leia laughs.

“Buir!” She giggles, which makes Bail stop immediately. 

He looks at Leia, looking a bit confused for a moment, and then glances towards the small garden. 

“Do you want to go see Buir?” He asks her. 

Leia turns to look back at Fox. 

“Buir”, she says. 

Bail doesn’t notice her looking, because he just nods, and starts to make his way towards the garden. Fox decides it’s for the best if he follows them. 

Bail puts her back down on the ground in front of the grave. 

“There we go”, he murmurs. “Say hello to Buir.” 

Leia frowns at the stone, and then looks at Fox. 

“Buir”, she says. She sounds rather confused now. 

Bail looks at her, and then up, straight at Fox but straight past him.

Fox makes himself smile at Leia. 

“It’s okay”, he says. He brushes his hand across the top of her head. “It’s okay, Leili’ika. Buir is right here.” 

Leia looks at him, and then reaches her hand.

“Buir”, she says. 

Fox lets her grab onto his hand. He watches as Bail looks at him, still straight past him, with a lost look full of grief in his eyes. 

Once again, Fox wishes nothing more than to be able to speak to him, make him see, make him hear him, so Fox could tell him that he is right there. 

But he cannot. 

Because even when Fox has found his place, even when Fox has found happiness, even when Fox has found a home, even when he has been granted a reason to be here. 

Even then, Fox is being punished.

[lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom]

Can I request a Hunter x female Y/N comfort/whump paternal fic plz? <3

Btw I loved your Crosshair x Y/N fic <3

Knight in Rusty Armor

Hunter x Reader

Summary- After a bad run-in at a market, Hunter has to save you and Omega. You can't help but feel like a failure for not being able to protect Omega by yourself...

A/N- Thank you so much for requesting! I'm not completely confident in my ability to write Hunter, but I tried my best!! Hope this is what you had in mind, XoXo.

Word Count- 2,118

You could feel his gaze on you from a mile away. It seemed that no matter the circumstance, Hunter was there.

While you were grateful for him, always- you couldn't help but feel like he didn't trust you. Well, maybe trust wasn't the right word. Nevertheless, he had to accompany you and Omega for a trip to the market.

Everyone had been flying for days and needed a place to resupply. Stretch their legs. You offered to take Omega to shop for some new clothes. She had rips in her shirt- ones that were barely held together by your sewing. So it seemed natural that you would take her, being the only other female on the ship.

Even before landing, you brought up the idea of you and Omega going to Hunter. You wanted to spend some time with her alone. One might have even said mother and daughter bonding...

He turned you down immediately. Rightfully so, as it was a foreign place. But you still wanted to compromise.

That's where you were now, looking through bounds of outfits. Varied from dresses, pants, jackets, and finally shirts. Hunter kept his distance. He did understand that Omega needed some 'girl time' with you, as Tech called it. He also understood that you two were the most important people to him, and he wanted to protect you at all cost.

When you and Omega stepped into an actual establishment for children's clothes, Hunter stood outside the door. Close enough that he could hear Omega laughing.

She picked through a rack, showing you the shirts she thought looked silly. The two of you got a couple odd looks, but neither of you cared.

A particular neon-green tube top grabbed her attention. She picked it up and joked that she wanted it.

"Yeah, very stealthy Omega." You said, playfully.

She giggled and put the shirt back. The two of you proceeded to go to the cashier with the 3 other shirts you found. Ones that fit her and were darker tones.

You immediately noticed that the owner of the store had a sour look on his face. This resulted in you putting on an cheery attitude, being extra kind.

"Ten credits." The yellow man stated, ignoring your pleasantries.

"T-ten?" You sputtered out, shocked. The tags on the clothes clearly stated 'one credit each.'

"Three for the clothes, and seven for the ones you insulted. Now an additional two for arguing with me." Since when was asking a question arguing.

Omega looked up at you, wondering what you would do next. You didn't have Ten credits on you, though you knew Hunter would let you tap into his personal stash if you asked. In this matter however, three shirts were not worth ten credits.

"Sir, i'm sorry about the comments. But we meant no harm. I can give you three credits for the shirts, as they are priced. No more." You reasoned with the man, knowing how bad Omega needed new clothes.

"You are not leaving this store until I get fifteen credits from you." He grumbled and reached for his blaster.

"Excuse me?" You were taken aback. Who did he think he was? Your own blaster was already raised.

"We don't have fifteen credits, and will be leaving now." You said, dropping the clothes. You were frustrated that the day had turned bad.

"Then she can work them off." He shoved his blaster to Omegas temple. Omega had left her energy bow back at the ship, and her borrowed blaster was on the side of her leg.

"We really don't have time for this, sir." You said before effectively disarming him. Your own blaster shot right past his shoulder, missing on purpose. It distracted him long enough for you to knock his blaster out of his own hand. Omega reached down to grab it- both guns now pointing at him.

It was as simple as it seemed, the guy was inexperienced. What the two of you didn't anticipate was Hunters call.

After rushing outside, the building was surrounded by men that looked like the store owner. Yellow with three horns on their ugly face.

What you would find out later was that the store owner had a bad temper, and went ahead to call for back-up. He was determined to make you all pay. Insanely petty if you could say so yourself.

Nevertheless, firing commenced. Again, it was easy. Even though they had numbers, they didn't possess the same skill as the three of you. Maybe that's why you got cocky?

Maybe that's why you found yourself with a blaster pointed at the back of your neck. The store owner! How did you forget him, you and Omega had rushed out without a second thought.

"This time, disarming me won't be so easy." You felt his breath on your ear, disgusting.

"Put the blaster down. Now." Hunter commanded. If you had your thoughts straight, it would have been really sexy.

"I don't think I will. I want 100 credits. For my time, and having to deal with these ratchet things you call humans!" The man insulted.

You smirked, "Not a wise decision." You remarked. Now it was personal- Hunter did not take insults to his girls lightly.

"Yeah, and what do you know? You're the one with a blaster poi-" He was interrupted by Hunter shooting him. Hunter wasn't as forgiving as you. The man fell, you didn't even look to see if he was alive.

With a puff Hunter started, "Let's get back."

"Are you okay!" Omega jumped to your side, calling your name.

Her voice sent a pang down from your spine to your stomach. She shouldn't be worried about you... She should feel safe and protected. All she saw was you getting risky and dumb. Now she thought she had to worry about you... You felt shame rush to your cheeks in a pink hue.

This Hunter took notice of, he was confused. There was nothing to be embarrassed about? At least he didn't think so.

The walk back to the ship was mostly silent, except for Hunter confirming we would try another market soon.

You kept your head up, now being over-cautious, hand hovering your blaster. That was until Hunter took your hand in his. He smiled at you. He could feel the tension off your body. He'd ask about it the second you got some alone time.

You looked at him and swallowed. You only felt more guilt. How was he so collected but ready to engage in combat at any moment. All of it just made you more insecure, what did you bring to the table?

Your thoughts were interrupted by Omega, pulling on Hunters free hand.

"Hunter! Can I pleeeeease get some!" She gestured to a bag of sweets for sale. A mix of fruity candy, lolli-pops, and chewing gum.

"I don't know Omega." He started, but after seeing her face fall he followed it with- "Okay, but you'll have to share it with Wrecker."

She jumped up, hugging onto his arm. "Thank you! You're the best dad ever!" She giddily said, snatching the credit he held out for her.

His face brightened up, it was his turn to wear a light pink hue. Omega didn't even seem to realize what she said, but you gripped Hunters hand tighter.

"Dad... I like it." You leaned onto him, resting a head on his shoulder. Your arm now fully wrapped around his.

"She probably didn't even mean to say it..." He doubted, not wanting to think anything that wasn't mutual.

"Don't sell yourself short, Hunter." You said, not looking up at him, but rubbing your cheek on the material of his shirt.

Omega bopped back over and the three of you headed back to the ship.

Sleep escaped you, tossing and turning. The thoughts of the market kept you awake. This was not normal. You had all been in crappy situations like that one, why did it affect you so much?

Having Hunter save you wasn't something you resented, it was quite attractive. Just this instance. You had been so careless... You could have put an end to it all, but forgot to immobilize the main threat. You huffed and puffed, trying to get out your frustrations.

You were so lost in thought, that when Hunter placed a concerned hand on your shoulder- you jumped. He pulled away instantly, thinking he might have hurt you in some way.

"W-what?" You asked, squinting up at him. It seemed that no one else was awake, Hunter being the only one on watch.

"Hey, hey, what's wrong, sweets?" He asked, hearing his nickname for you was enough to calm you down. At least, enough to get up and settle in one of the cock-pit seats.

You took a deep breath and sat up. He steadied you, an arm wrapping under your armpit to hold you.

"Just can't sleep." He knew there was more to the story. That was a big part about why you loved him. He was more than attentive, and the most selfless lover you could ask for.

"Come sit with me." He suggested, pulling you up with him as he stood to his feet.

He still had a hand rested on the small of your back as he led the two of you to the cockpit,

"So, what happened at the market?" You looked down, shame flooded out of you. Seemingly for no reason. You opted to sit down before answering.

"I let Omega down... There's nothing else to it. It was obvious." You almost felt angry that he didn't see the situation as you did.

His face scrunched up, eyes burning at you. He blinked several times before replying- "What are you talking about?"

With a groan you spoke again, "I can't even protect her from an angry, stupid, vender! You had to save us!" Your voice cracked at the end.

"I thought you didn't mind wh-" You cut him off

"I don't, I just-" You grumbled, frustrated that you couldn't find the right words.

"It's okay, you didn't let anyone down. Everyone is safe, it was just a small mishap." He reasoned, hating that you felt anything less than perfect. If only you saw yourself as he saw you.

You took a quick breath, "One day it won't be a 'small mishap' and something might happen to Omega. I was careless! Now she knows I can't protect her. I'm supposed to be the person she can run to... She must be so disappointed."

You let your head fall into your hands. You rested there for a moment, that was until Hunter made his way in front of you. He gently grasped your hands in his.

He lifted one of your hands to rest on his cheek- the tattooed one. You moved your thumb across the black lines.

"Omega thinks the world of you... nothing will change that. Who knows what would have happened if I wasn't there. If I hadn't called you out, you would have been able to think on what to do with the owner, right?" He explained, trying to shift some of the blame to himself.

You nodded at his words. At this he brings his free hand to rest on your cheek, matching yours on his. His words made you feel some relief, but you couldn't deny how you still felt guilty. Guilty that Omega may have thought differently now.

"Thank you..." You sniffled out, his words making your eyes water.

You leaned in for a kiss, only to be interrupted by a rustling.

Omega. Her light voice called your name, just before jumping onto you and Hunter. He held her steady as she fell into your arms.

"Today was so fun... I'm not disappointed!" You gasped slightly at her words, "You heard all that?" You had a worried look on your face.

"You guys are my family. I'll always feel protected with you." She leans into your arms, head resting just under your shoulder.

"I don't care about the mean guy, I had the best day ever... Can we visit the next market we find as well?" She said, excited, looking up into your eyes.

How could you say no to her sweet face?

"I think Hunter, Wrecker, Tech, and Echo should come too. Maybe they will have as much fun as we did shopping!" You and Hunter both laughed at this.

"i'm not so sure shopping is Tech's thing." Hunter joked.

You laughed again, wiping off the last tear on your face. Your anxieties had finally died down.

Hours later, Hunter would find you both asleep in the pilots chair- Omega rested snugged in your arms. That is, with evidence of the last candy all over Omega.

A/N- Thank you so much for reading! I didn't have a strong vision for this one, but I told myself I had to finish it before starting another. I also went off of some Star Wars article saying that 1 Credit is equal to 5 USD. Sorry if I got that wrong! As always, I am open to constructive criticism!

Tags- (lmk if you want to be tagged as well!) @thethreeeyed-raven @knight-of-flowerss

[kaminocasey]

Joyride Part 2

Summary: Can you talk your way out of trouble or are you going to go head to head with Cad Bane? Will you get that shower with Hunter that he promised???

Pairing: Hunter x F!Reader

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI; Smut, Angst, Unprotected P in V (wrap it up friends), shower sex, Fluff AND Smut AT THE SAME TIME???? Romantic!Hunter.

WC: 4.5K

A/N: Sorry this took a hot ass minute. I hope I made up for it though. I've been thinking about this man literally NONSTOP.

Part One │ Taglist Form

Six months ago.

“Kriff… There’s no way out…” Hunter grunts, shining his flashlight throughout the room.

You put your hand up to shield your eyes as he shines it in your direction, turning around and then notice something you’d all missed.

“If there’s no way out of this building, then where are they headed?” You ask Hunter as you nod toward the large womp rats scurrying through the room behind some crates.

You quickly walk over and start pushing them out of the way, Wrecker quickly coming to move the heavier ones for you. You smile up at the large man, pleased, when you find a large enough opening that’s definitely going to be your way out. 

“What, do you want a cookie?” Hunter asks and you shoot him a glare. 

“Asshole.” You mumble under your breath, knowing he can hear you anyway.

“Ignoring that.” He whispers in your ear, as he walks past to inspect the opening. 

You ignore the slight warmth that runs from head to toe from his low, gruff voice. Ugh. Hunter truly irritates you so much, it's a wonder either of you get anything done.

“Let’s get moving.” Hunter tells the group and once everyone goes through the opening down into some sort of sewer system, Hunter offers his hand to help you down, tilting his helmet at you. 

You bat his hand away and jump. But you can’t help but wonder what his hand would feel like in yours.

Present, Lower Levels of Coruscant

“If you touch her, I will rip your throat out.” Hunter’s voice brings you back to the present. You’re still on the garage floor, you realize, your muscles still not strong enough to pull you up just yet. When you try to open your eyes, you feel a cool finger trace down your bare neck and you understand now that Hunter was speaking to whoever the owner of the finger was. 

“I told you, one wrong move and I’ll blast her, didn’t I?” A low drawled voice speaks, evenly and calmly. “Now, you’re going to tell me where Cid is and I’m gonna let this pretty little thing go and then you two can be on your way.” 

You know that voice… And with knowing that voice, you know you’ve met your match. 

Cad Bane… Of course. Why not make your life harder? Maker, you really hate being stunned. 

“Nevarro.” You finally open your eyes, looking up at him. “She’s on Nevarro.” 

“Ah, little lady’s awake.” Cad Bane pulls you up by your dress strap and Hunter struggles against the two men holding him back. 

“Relax.” You whisper quiet enough that Cad can’t hear you but you know that Hunter can.

He stops struggling and settles, looking at you with an expression of concern. 

“Proof?” Cad asks.

“She’s making a trade deal with Arua Stullie. Something about Imperial weaponry.” You lie as coolly as you can. 

“And what does Arua Stullie want with Imperial weapons?” Cad holds the blaster to your neck and Hunter looks like he’s seriously about to run for Bane and rip his teeth out. 

You’ve never seen Hunter look so furious. Hunter isn’t a good liar though. It’s definitely one of his biggest flaws. In fact, none of the Batch are good at lying. Almost humorously so. Except right now. 

Lucky for you, Cid taught you how to lie, steal, cheat, gamble, etc. Basically anything that a morally good person wouldn’t do, you were taught the opposite.

“Arua’s planning an attack on some Imperial vessel. Cid came into the weapons yesterday from some rogue Mandos. Don’t know much more than that.” You shrug, keeping your voice steady.

“That true, handsome?” Cad asks Hunter.

Hunter nods, still glaring, and Cad’s quiet for a moment before letting your dress strap go and dropping you to the floor. 

“Alright. I believe you.” Cad sighs. “You can go.” 

“Wow, thanks so much for your incredible hospitality.” You glare up at him as Hunter rushes to you.

“Next time you plan on crossing my path, don’t.” Cad warns you.

It’s not that you’re necessarily afraid of Cad Bane. He’s just serious about his money and you probably should count yourself lucky that he let you go. 

“Yeah, no worries.” You grunt. 

Cad and whoever these thugs are make out like bandits and Hunter looks at you for a moment, searching your eyes as he gently cups your face. His hands are so warm against your skin. Or maybe your cheeks are warm from the way he’s looking at you so softly right now. 

“Are you alright?” He whispers.

You nod. “I’m fine.” 

“You ever lie to me like that?” He smirks. “You’re scarily good at it.” 

“Not necessarily.” You grin and he rests his forehead against yours. “I have no reason to lie to you, sarge.”

When he stands up, he helps you up and then leads you into the Marauder, shutting the hatch and locking it. You look at him curiously as he guides you back toward the shower. 

“You’re so brave, it never ceases to amaze me.” He pushes you up against the durasteel wall next to the fresher, nuzzling his nose against your neck, breathing you in.

Your breath hitches in your throat as he places a soft kiss to your neck and he lets out a breathy laugh, smiling. 

“Can I admit something?” He asks, quietly.

“Of course.” You whisper, afraid if you move, this moment will go away.

“When we’re in tough… or scary… spots on missions, I listen to your heartbeat to calm myself. It’s rarely ever above 65 beats per minute… You’re always so calm in tricky situations.” He admits, pulling away to look at you.

That’s funny because you feel like your heart is beating right out of your chest. “And now?”

You place his hand over your heart and he kisses you. You rest your hand on his neck, pulling him closer as his free hand grips your hip.

“One-ten.” He smiles against your lips.

“Yeah, that checks out.” You laugh.

Hunter grins and then opens the fresher door, pulling you inside. 

“Permission to take this off?” He whispers, trailing his fingers down the silk material. 

You nod, looking up into his warm brown eyes. “Please.” 

He smiles and then turns you around so you’re facing the sink, looking at yourself in the mirror with him behind you. 

“Pretty dress, by the way. I regret not telling you that before the casino mishap.” He smirks at you in the reflection of the mirror. “You look absolutely beautiful.”

“Thanks.” You feel yourself go warm in the face. “Earlier… my dress slid up my thigh a little bit and you walked away.”

“Yeah, I got fucking hard and thought I was gonna lose it…” He whispers in your ear, kissing just below it.

Goosebumps trail down your entire body as his fingers slide your zipper down. He notices as he runs his fingers down your bare back and a full shudder ripples through your body.

“Nervous?” He murmurs. His eyes stare into yours in the mirror.

You shake your head and he lets the fabric fall to the floor. 

“And here I was thinking you were a good liar.” He turns you around and lifts you up, sitting you on the sink. 

“You caught me.” You whisper, smiling softly.

His lips capture yours again and you moan against his. Hunter’s hands grip your thighs in the most delicious way and you find yourself never wanting him to let go of you. 

“Don’t be nervous, cyar’ika. I’ve got you.” He promises you, softly.

“I trust you.” You promise him back.

Trust is a big thing for you. You think he knows that. 

“You’re too clothed.” You murmur against his lips. “You’re right.” He agrees, pulling away to unbutton his shirt, revealing his gold chain and the continued skeleton tattoo that travels down his torso, disappearing into his pants. 

You gulp loudly, even to your own ears and judging by his smirk as he looks down while undressing, you know he heard it too.

“I knew it.” You gasp when he starts to pull his pants down, revealing the femur tattoo that descends into a fibula tattoo and down to his foot. 

“Knew what?” He looks up at you finally, his brown eyes making you go hot all over.

“That the skull tattoo wasn’t just a skull. I figured that it probably-” You start babbling but he cuts you off by crushing his lips to yours. 

You moan softly against his lips and he starts to pull your underwear down. The moment they hit the floor, he inhales and grips your thighs roughly.

Oh… he smells you, doesn’t he? Fuck… why is that so hot?

Oh fuck, can he always smell you when you’re-

“You have no idea what you do to me…” His lips find your neck, breaking you out of your thoughts, and then your shoulder, and then he’s pushing you back slightly so his lips can latch onto your pert nipples, begging for attention. 

With one hand still gripping your thigh, he reaches into the shower and starts the water. Honestly, you didn’t know the man could multitask so well. The thought makes you chuckle and he lets go of your nipple with a ‘pop’ and looks down at you with a quirked eyebrow.

“What’s funny?” 

“Nothing.” 

He nods, clearly unconvinced, with a mischievous look in his eyes. “Right.”

His hand that was gripping your thigh moves over slightly, down toward your bare warmth and your breath hitches again. 

“Hunter.” 

“Mmhm?” His fingers slide further down and his eyes are still watchful of yours.

“What are you doing?” You smile softly.

“Tell me what’s funny.” His fingers slide slowly over your wet folds, barely entering you, but enough to make you clench around nothing.

“It was nothing.” You try to tell him, knowing if you tell him the truth, he very well might stop. 

“Suddenly… You’re a very,” His finger grazes your clit. “bad liar.” 

You whimper, biting your lip, trying to hold out. For what, at this point, you don’t know. What’s he going to give you for telling the truth? 

“I was just entertained by your ability to multitask.” You gasp when his thumb presses against your clit harder. “W-with turning on the shower while-”

“Oh.” He chuckles, his eyes darkening. “I can show you other ways I can multitask, cyar’ika.”

Before you can ask him what he means, he pulls you up against him, wrapping your legs around his waist as he picks you up and pulls you into the shower, pushing you against the wall as the water falls over the both of you. 

“How about this…” He smiles with a knowing look. “I’m gonna fuck you while I wash your hair and clean you up, so that what happened earlier is out of both of our minds for what I have to show you later.” 

“Ah, yes. The surprise.” You smile. 

He captures your lips softly this time. “How does that sound?” 

“Pretty good, honestly.” You shrug, nonchalantly, making him let out a genuine laugh. 

Hunter’s laugh does something catastrophic to both your heart and your core. Have you always been this attracted to him? Suddenly, you find yourself needing to know what his hands feel like while they wash your hair. What his face looks like when he’s caring for you. 

Why did you waste so much time arguing and fighting when you could’ve had this the whole time? 

Hunter reaches around you, lining himself up with you before pushing in, making you gasp against his lips, loudly. He groans just as loud, if not louder, and you’re suddenly so fucking thankful you’re planets away from the rest of the Batch. 

“I want to be buried in you every day.” Hunter admits, his voice full of need and desperation. 

To be the cause of that desperation is such a satisfying feeling, you can’t help but smirk, looking down between the two of you where your hips meet.

“Whenever you want it, let me know.” You kiss him again and a low rumble in his throat pulls your attention to his face. 

“You can’t just say things like that to me unless you mean it.” He rests his forehead against yours. 

“I do mean it, though.” You whisper. “Pull me into this fresher whenever you want and fuck me like you can’t live without this.” You clench around him and his grip on your ass tightens.

“Cyar’ika…” He pulls out slightly only to slam back into you. “That’ll be every day.”

“Then let it be every day. Every night. Every hour. Whenever.” You promise him. 

With a final groan, he starts thrusting into you and you swear that you see past all of the stars in the Galaxy. This angle is something else entirely, something you’ve never had and don’t think you can live without ever again. 

“So fucking good.” You whisper between pants and whimpers, the sound of skin against skin filling the small fresher so much it’s making you wetter than before. 

When his hips slow against yours, you look at him, confused, and he chuckles, pulling your shampoo down out of the net that everyone keeps their shower stuff in so that it doesn’t get thrown around while on intense missions. 

“Oh, you were serious.” You laugh.

“Dead serious.” Hunter keeps one hand ahold of you, and you genuinely didn’t know he was so strong. 

He flips up the cap and pours the shampoo over your head a bit, the aroma of fresh fruit filling both of your noses. He closes his eyes, clearly enjoying the scent as he caps the bottle shut and puts it back. When he opens his eyes, he starts gently thrusting while simultaneously massaging the shampoo into your hair.

“This… is new.” You smile, softly.

“Good new?” 

“Mmhm. You do this with all your partners?” You chuckle.

“Only you.” He admits, while still soaping up your hair, making sure to get all of it. “I’ve never been this… personal with any other… partners. In fact… It’s been a while since I’ve been with anyone.”

“Since before Omega?” You guess.

He nods, pulling you under the water to rinse out your hair, still massaging your head. It feels incredible. You’ve never been given this much attention before, though, so you’re almost not sure what else to say. 

He stills, still inside you, and you look at him softly.

“There was just never… time, I suppose? No one ever caught my eye either.” He explains, his voice so soft, so gentle that you feel like you’re almost in a trance. “Until we met you.” 

Your cheeks go warm under his stare as you realize the weight of what he’s telling you. 

“Anyway.” He clears his throat, awkwardly, as he reaches up for your conditioner. 

You watch each other as he conditions your hair, smiling ever so slightly at the understanding between the two of you. You’re it, for each other. There’s no one else.

When he finishes conditioning your hair, he rinses it out just as he did before. And then, you reach up for his shampoo, pouring a bit into your hand, rubbing it between your hands before reaching up into his locks. He groans at the feel of your fingers against his scalp. 

“I swear I can feel how tense you are just in your scalp.” You smile, making him laugh.

As you get his hair nice and soapy, you can feel his cock grow harder inside of you, you think. When you tug slightly on his hair, his eyes flutter shut and he groans, pushing further into you. 

“You like that?” You murmur, seductively.

He nods, lips parted. “Yeah.”

You guide him under the water a bit and let it run through the soap and your fingers, making it travel down both your bodies, and you realize his shampoo doesn’t have a scent to it. 

“It doesn’t smell like anything.” You murmur.

He nods again. “A lot of scents are overwhelming.”

“Oh… I’m sorry if mine-”

“No. It’s just me, being stuck with my own hair 24/7, you know? I love the way you smell. My favorite smell.” He assures you, grinning. “In fact… you’re my favorite everything to my senses… My favorite smell, my favorite taste.” He kisses you. “My favorite touch.” He runs his hand up to cup your jaw. “My favorite sight.” His eyes run down your body and a shiver runs up your spine. “And your laugh is genuinely my favorite sound. I’d do anything to hear it for the rest of my life.”

“Oh… Hunter.” You get an unfamiliar lump in your throat and you struggle to look him in the face, but he pulls your face back toward his. 

“I love you. You definitely don't have to say it back. I just want you to know.” He rests his forehead against yours again. “I’m so sorry I ever made you feel like I hated you.” 

It’s right this very second that it’s obvious to you. Why it wasn’t obvious to you before, you don’t know… 

“I love you too.”  You grin. 

His eyes widen for a fraction of a second, clearly surprised that you said it back. But then his lips find yours and you're pressed back up against the cool wall. Both yours and Hunter’s hands are in each other’s hair and something changes between you two. Something passionate and all consuming. 

This is only the second time fucking but it feels like the hundredth or more. It’s obvious that the two of you are more than whatever this is the start of. Is there a word for something more than a partner? 

Hunter’s cock pushes into you repeatedly, coaxing the most perfect moans from your lips. It’s obvious that the desperation between you is bubbling up, threatening to push you over your edge. You reach down and rub your clit, wanting so badly to cum for him again. 

How is he reaching into you like this? How does he already know your body so well?

“Fuck…” You groan, your head resting back against the wall and Hunter’s eyes never leave your fingers between the two of you.

“That feel good?” He whispers and you can only nod, your words failing you. “You gonna cum on my cock, mesh’la?”

You whimper and nod, pathetically. 

“Atta girl. Cum for me.” Hunter breathes and you curse again, loudly this time, as you clench around him, cumming even harder than earlier and you bury your face in his neck. 

His grip on you tightens as your pussy coaxes his own release from him, filling you up so full that his cum slides back out over his cock and down into the floor of the shower. 

“I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of this.” He kisses your neck. “In fact, I know I won’t.”

“You say that now. Just wait til we get into our first real argument as a couple.” You tease.

“Oh, is that what we are?” He teases back and you playfully swat him, making him laugh. “So Cid was right, I guess…”

He said your laugh was his favorite sound but you’re pretty sure that his laugh is the best sound in the Galaxy. It’s so strange that this is how your night ended. But you’re definitely not complaining. 

“We don’t have to put a label on it if you don’t want to...” You tell him, brushing your fingers across his cheek.

“Well, I’m all yours and I’d prefer it if you were all mine.” He smiles.

Your heart does an entire flip at his confession. You’d prefer it that way, too. 

“Couple just seems so… I don’t know. Small? We’ve been through so much together… And your family feels like my own…” You babble slightly, unsure if you even make any sense.

“We clones have a word like that… that’s more than a ‘couple’. Riduur. It’s like a partner or spouse. But it means more.” He explains. “You mean more…”

You grin up at him as he pulls out of you and puts you down gently, still holding onto you. The both of you stay in comfortable silence, between kisses, as you wash each other’s bodies. Your eyes continuously roam over his tattoos and he smirks down at you as he notices. 

“I like you like this.” You shrug. 

He hums, caging you against the shower wall. “I bet you do. Once we get back to Ord Mantell, I’ll show you just how much I like having you like this too.”

Hunter’s lips brush against yours and then all of sudden, he’s guiding you out of the shower and wrapping a towel around your shoulders.

“So, what’s the surprise?” You ask him.

“You’ll see.” He winks, drying off quickly to go grab a pair of fresh clothes. 

You do the same, settling on a sweater and leggings, going for comfort. He looks at you the same way he looked at you in that dress earlier and the realization that he truly does love you, sets in and you know right this very second, you couldn’t go back to what you were before even if you wanted to. 

“Mesh’la.” He kisses you on the forehead before settling into the pilot’s seat. 

You settle into the co-pilot seat next to him as he starts up the ship flying it out of the garage and up the tubal fly lane back to the surface. When he reaches over to take your hand, you look between the two of you at your intertwined hands. 

“I could get used to this.” He squeezes your hand.

“Too bad Tech would never let you.” You chuckle. 

He chuckles and leans over to kiss your hand. “I just meant this… You know? Us.”

When he reaches the hyper lanes, he takes off toward the west. You look at him curiously and he winks. You’re still not a fan of surprises, but you don’t say anything. You just continue to smile at the handsome sergeant. 

“I can feel the tension in your neck from here.” He teases you.

Within ten minutes, you see a mountainous region next to a giant body of water. 

“Is that an ocean?” You let go of his hand to lean forward, looking out of the window. 

He chuckles. “It is.” 

“I didn’t know Coruscant had anything other than cities…” You tell him, amazed. 

He brings the ship down onto the beach, and offers his hand to you when he stands up. Smiling up at him, you take it and he leads you to the hatch, opening it. As soon as it comes down, your mouth drops. You’ve never seen an ocean before. 

Hunter leads you down the steps of the Marauder and you step into the sand. It’s squishier than you imagined it would be. You’re tempted to take your shoes off, but you know that with this job, there’s always the threat of some sort of danger. So you keep your shoes on for now. 

Looking out at the sea, you breathe in the salty air, feeling at peace, the threat of earlier long gone from your mind.

“I overheard you talking to Echo once about how you’d never seen an ocean before.” Hunter tells you. “Once we got on the ship, I knew it’d be a perfect opportunity.” 

You look at him. “Earlier back at Cid’s… you seemed like you didn’t want to go on this job with me.”

“I was just nervous, mesh’la. That’s all.” He kisses your forehead and then leans down in front of you.

Curiously, you watch him as he unlaces your boots and then slides them off your feet, sitting them on the steps of the hatch. The cool sand seeps between your toes and you can’t help but laugh. 

“Feel funny?” He asks and you look up at him, nodding. 

“In a good way.” You shrug. 

He leads you toward the water and you look out at the sun starting to rise. It’s so beautiful here. A little piece of peace in a hellscape. You know right away, you’d like to come back here.

“How’d you find this place?” You ask him. 

“Tech mentioned it during a mission here a while back. After Echo left the squad, I brought Omega here before we went back to Ord Mantell,” he tells you.

He wraps his arms around you from behind and rests his chin on your shoulder. It feels so natural like this. So easy.

You rest your hands over his. “I don’t remember that.”

“This was before you came back to Ord Mantell yourself.” He tells you. “I like it here. It’s… different from Kamino’s raging seas… It’s calmer…” Hunter murmurs, looking out at the sea at the rising sun.

“I’m sorry I was such a raging sea in your life before…” You take his hand and bring it to your lips.

“You weren’t a raging sea.” He chuckles, his voice low and calming as you both watch the sunset. “You’re the sunrise. Fiery, bright, beautiful… and something to look forward to seeing every morning.” 

Your chest tightens at his sweet words. You didn’t know before today how much of a romantic Hunter is. You love it, though.

“That was really cheesy.” You laugh, pulling away so you can wrap your arms around his waist and look up at him.

“Doesn’t make it less true.” He kisses you.

The sun glows against his tan skin and you can’t help but be even more enamored. How did you not allow yourself to appreciate his beauty before? How did you not allow yourself to just fall in love sooner?

“Do you want to camp out here today?” He offers. 

“Really?” You ask, softly, with hope. 

“Yeah. I’ll send a transmission to the others and update them about Cad Bane and tell them we’re just exhausted from running into trouble.” He smirks. 

“They’re definitely going to be suspicious.” You smirk back.

“Just Echo.” He shrugs, with a chuckle. 

That’s true. But you think Echo already knew about your feelings before you did. 

“When I get back, we’ll set up camp. I’ll make you something to eat and then we’ll take a nap. And maybe when we wake up, I’ll take you swimming.” He promises, letting go of you with one last kiss. “Don’t go anywhere.”

You sit down in the sand. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

He takes one last look at you in the glow of the sunrise and he nearly says “Fuck it.” and just let the squad figure it out on their own. Except he knows Omega will be worried, so he tears his eyes off of you to go send a transmission to them. You sit and bite your lip, trying to keep the excited giggle inside as you think about what a future with Hunter could be like. It’s still crazy to think that you started off the night by arguing with him… and now… you’re on some sort of date. And… you’ve figured out you’re in love. What a wild turn of events.

TAGLIST: @twistedstitcher27 @misogirl828 @rebel-finn @rexandechosandwich @madameminor @dumfanting @rain-on-kamino @corona-one @tecker @ladykatakuri @brynhildrmimi @the-sith-in-the-sky-with-diamond @zoeykallus @maulslittlemeowmeow @littlemousedroid @arctrooper69 @rexxdjarin @padawancat97 @hated-by-me @sleepingsun501 @quigonswife8 @idlenesses @redheadgirl @themcuwriter @ashotofspotchka @sunshinesdaydream @crosshairsimp73 @ariadnes-red-thread @rosmariner @heyitsaloy @starstofillmydream @high-ct5555 @echos-girlfriend @sleepywych @nekotaetae @justanothersadperson93 @aconstructofamind @book-of-baba-fett @chopper-base @palliateclaw @501st-rexster @dead-poolz @nahoney22 @where-is-my-mind-tho @jediknightjana @erishimoon @witching3 @queen-of-many-fandoms @wizardofrozz  @burningfieldof-clover

[ccinos-cat-cafe]

I think my whole brand is like ... taking unpopular or controversial AUs, making my own take on them like giving them more personality ... and an aesthetic I think it's neat to rewrite a character, give them more depth and personality instead of them being something so blank, and one dimensional. People should do it more often, and I love seeing redesigns and peoples ideas for AUs !! Picking up a forgotten character and turning them into something memorable, too, is what I love. When people talk about like idk Bird and make their own stuff about him, I'm just happy 😭 he needs more attention

FLOWERFELL BELONGS TO ITS RIGHTFUL OWNER who i don't know the name of yikes Flowerfell didn't deserve the controversy it got. For a long time I stayed away from the AU myself because I thought it was the creator who made it fr4ns based, when really, it was the fandom. In all honesty, it has to be the saddest AU, and for how simple of an idea it is, I love it. I feel like Fell in general would make a great dad 🔥 kinda But I do feel like there was a whole chunk of personality missing from this guy ... the only thing in his character was worrying over Frisk, and once they died, that was the end of the AU. But I feel like he deserves a bit more to him

After Frisk's death, I imagine he taught himself to make flower crowns, since those were what Frisk always gifted to him. It first started off as a kind of memorial, but then it turned into a hobby, and then it turned into a habit that he needed to do 24/7

He keeps his piercings in. He's still in Underfell, and he's gotta keep his edge...but despite him trying to look all mysterious and bad, when he lost someone close to him, he started to soften up a bit, feeling as though that maybe he should start appreciating the little things

He started wanting to take care of things so they could live a long, good life. Partly because that's what he wished he could do for Frisk, but also because he just wanted to feel that satisfaction of helping something grow. So, he takes care of any plant he finds, especially in waterfall and the ruins. Toriel keeps her doors open for him so he can tend to the gardens

He still has a short temper, and cursing is still a problem, but it's more out of anxiety now. And the temper thing, he's worked on it, and it's getting better, and he yells less now. In comparison, he's sweeter than OG Fell, but he's not gonna be as chill as Comic any time soon

He learned about AUs when he found Dream and Nightmare battling in the Snowdin Forest once. After, Dream spotted him, and they had a very long conversation about alternate dimensions and such...he's still new to the whole thing, but he's getting used to it.

(General HC) A monster's magic is developed by training and interest, which is why Sanses have their own Gaster Blasters. After enough time in the gardens, Flower!Red ended up developing the ability to manipulate plants, and even create them through the palm of his hand...specifically buttercups. He only uses it when he's feeling fidgety and needs to make a flower crown.

His multiverse name is Patch, like a flower patch :D

[victorianightlight]

"I smell a bad egg, Ezra!"

AAGGHH, finally! I finally finished this art! I started making it back in August, but I kept putting it off, and now I’ve finally finished it! 🥳

I hope that you have seen or at least heard about the horror game At Dead of Night. I personally learned about this game thanks to the great Markiplier and damn, I just fell in love with this game. It was also reported that work is underway on a prequel-sequel: At Dead of Night: The Great Hugo and I will be looking forward to its release!

And of course, I couldn’t help but dream how cool it would be if Ezra were in the place of Maya (the main character of At Dead Of Night). Star Wars Rebels + Horror? So why not:))

Now as for the plot: Commander Sato sent Ezra along with several rebels to a certain planet (I honestly didn’t come up with a name for it, but it would be somewhat similar to Corellia) to find out about a certain imperial object (again a vague concept😅). Since the mission could take some days, the commander advised them to find temporary housing. After arriving on the planet, this accommodation became the Sea View Hotel. And although it seemed like an ordinary and cozy hotel, only its owner Jimmy Hall was a little strange, but Ezra sensed from the very beginning that something was wrong with this place. He felt that the Force in this place was clouded, which made him almost unable to feel it (which bothered him a lot). And later, while sleeping in his room, the young rebel was awakened by a scream from outside. Discovering not only that his blaster and lightsaber were missing (they were quietly taken by someone), but he also saw Jimmy Hall tie up one of the rebels and lock him in his own room.

Despite his initial shock, Ezra was able to avoid the same fate, but he fails to send a signal for help. However, the boy manages to find the Master Key 02, as well as an unusual device from which the screams of different people were heard:

"Get out of the hotel!"

"Get out while you can!"

"You have to find out what he did and tell everyone."

"Make him realise what he did!"

Hearing these calls, Ezra realized that his new mission was now not only to save his comrades, but also to unravel the dark past of this hotel, especially its owner, Jimmy Hall.

---

Heh, and I can say that here is also the second version of the plot with Modern AU:) In this version, Ezra, like Maya, would be a student whose friends Jai Kell, Zare Leonis, his sister Dhara, Moreena Krai and Mart Mattin were kidnapped by the Sea View Hotel owner Jimmy Hall and now Ezra must unravel the hotel's dark secret and save his friends. But the boy should know that Jimmy won't let him just find out about all the skeletons in his closet.

---

It was actually fun making this art and it was my first art where I drew our blueberry boy in his pajamas (he's just so cute in them 🥰). Maybe even one day I'll write a fic based on this crossover, but only time will tell, since I'm very busy at the university right now. Hope you enjoy this art too!:)

[loth-creatures]

Sabine's Story ? 👁️ -aaeeart

Ah yes, the elusive secret sabine's-backstory fic I slowly but surely chisel at on the rare occasion I have writing motivation. No promises on ever finishing it but I will publish at least some of it eventually I prommy

Here's one of my favorite snippets so far! There's another here, since two people asked about this one :)

A flash of color amidst the greenish steel caught Kanan's eye. At the end of the cluttered shelf was a Mandalorian helmet, painted indigo and magenta with a few bright red cartoonish symbols and a clan crest in deep maroon. It was easily the loudest paint job he'd ever seen on Mando gear. The rest of the set plus a folded holster containing twin blasters sat next to it, strapped together for storage.

Kanan pried his gaze away, trying to refocus on the task at hand, even as he was struck by how small the armor was; a youngling's set. Likely enough it had been stolen off a dead child's body. Bile rose in his throat as he found the crates of [stuff] they were after and magnetized them, slamming them together a bit more aggressively than was necessary. He started for the exit, blaster drawn and pulling the train of crates behind him. He made it five steps before he was turning around, cursing under his breath. It couldn't be left here. It had to be returned to someone even if the owner was long dead.

He intended to snatch it quickly and get the hell out of there as planned, but as he slid the bound pieces under one arm and reached for the helmet his feet remained rooted to the deck and Kanan found himself staring into the black of the visor as the ancient metal cooled his hands. Beskar had a weight to it. Not just physically, it was heavy in the Force. Heavy with the memory of fire and water and blood.

The click of a blaster behind him snapped Kanan back to reality. Well fuck me he muttered internally. Just had to lose it in the Force with his back turned. Like an idiot. He was about to whip around and use the damn helmet to smash the blaster away when his attacker spoke.

"Turn around, slow."

It was the voice of a teenager. Kanan knew it belonged to the owner of this armor even before he complied with their demand and saw a girl with bright pink hair, her young face streaked with blood. She couldn't be older than fifteen. Her dark eyes indicated the armor before meeting Kanan's.

“Give it to me, now.”

The kid’s voice was hard and steady, leaving no room for argument. Her stance was the same. She was hiding exhaustion and pain well enough to fool most people. But Kanan could see the slightest tremble of her hand in the way the blaster slowly tilted from its line to his heart, her stiff and slightly uneven posture, the tightness of her face that betrayed urgency and fear.

Kanan slowly bent to deposit the bundle of armor on the floor, raising his hands as he set it down. He used his foot to scoot it in her direction. The girl’s eyes and her blaster’s nozzle remained trained on Kanan, but he didn’t miss how hard her knee hit the deck as she knelt to retrieve the armor, or the effort it took her to stand back up. She put the helmet on, but didn't waste time on the rest, instead clutching it to her chest and backing away.

“Kid, wait.”

She did not. She fired a warning shot past his ear, then another shot took out the control panel for the door as she backed through it. The door slammed shut. Well. The beskar was returned to its rightful owner, mission accomplished. Kanan shook himself and redirected the crates towards the secondary entrance, raised his comm to alert Zeb to the change in route.

She won't survive she won't survive she won't survive

Kanan accepted the knowledge then shoved it aside, resolved to tell Hera about the little Mando. Chasing after her while she had no reason to believe that he wasn't one of her attempted captors would do nothing but waste both their time and botch this operation more than it already was. But the kid needed help. Something told Kanan it had to be them.

[burningfieldof-clover]

I just read most of your Bad Batch fics and I absolutely love them and I saw your scenarios list and there were so many good options.

I was wondering if you could do a Hunter x Bounty Hunter!Reader with "Chr B meeting chr A's kid in public and helps them out. Which makes the kid like B but B doesn't know it's A's kid." which leads to "They didn't mean for it to turn out this way. But they tried it once and couldn't stop themselves from wanting more."

Hello lovely friend I hope you didn't mind the wait! This is my first time writing for Hunter and I had a blast. Probably... too much fun because I went on and on with this one... Kind of wondering if I should make some mini-fics about the lessons that are referred to in this writing.

lessons learned

warnings: cussing a lot for some reason, general kind of "aw sad" feels, slightly "whoa that's hot" feels at the end

word count: 4307

reader x hunter

Bounty hunting. Not exactly the most glamorous job in the galaxy, but it pays well so who would deny it? It kept your ship running, your belly full. You got to collect some beautiful weapons and some breathtaking views to the places you went.

There was… one downside.

Saying you had an arch nemesis would sound strange. At first thought, you would assume it’s another bounty hunter, right? No. It’s a fucking bounty itself. 

You’ve been chasing him for years. Before the Clone Wars ended, jilted citizens or affected warlords put bounties on this clone’s head for unbelievable rates. At first you thought it must be because he’s so unbelievably dangerous, or committed some kind of unbelievably terrible crime.

No. He’s just good at his job.

Now that the Clone War is over, it’s been corporations or government bodies placing the bounties on him. It didn’t matter who placed the bounty, it was always going to be the same challenge. 

You thought back on the very many times you’ve hunted this clone, the one with a signature red bandana and half a face of a tattoo…

The first time, he made himself known to you with a blaster to your back. He pointed out he could smell the scent of your shampoo. While this was embarrassing as hell, you considered the job failed.

The second time, he found a strand of your hair caught on a tree limb in the forest he was hiding in. With frustration, you now wore a helmet that tucked your hair inside to prevent that situation from happening again.

The third time (or was it the thirtieth time?), he heard your sneeze. He heard your fucking sneeze. From an ungodly amount of distance away.

This has been going for so long. Honestly, you’ve been improving in your craft since you started hunting him. You learned some valuable lessons that most bounty hunters had probably never even thought of. You had a lovely stash of credits and could retire in a couple more years if you wanted.

Another bounty had crossed the database requiring the very clone you rival with. You took it without looking at the prize. You weren’t going to get it. You at least read details of his last known location and plotted the hyperspace jump. With a grin, you leaned back in your chair and propped your feet up on the console. It’s been a while. You could almost say you missed him.

Taking a mental checklist of all the ways you’d failed before, you parked your ship in the most crowded spaceport you could find. It would fit right in and be a little more difficult for him to locate (Lesson 16).

The bounty intel stated that he was headquartered in some kind of cantina that barely deserved to be called one. It had a couple regulars. The owner was a Trandoshan. Jedi used to visit during the war. Sounds simple enough.

A normal bounty hunter would camp out inside and wait for their mark to appear. However, the clone is a master at determining sketchy looking patrons, so that was out. (Lesson 8).

If you tried picking out an inconspicuous high ground, he usually had those covered too (Lesson 29).

If he really has chosen Ord Mantell as his homebase, then integrating yourself into society was going to be your plan. It’s something similar to the infamous long con most deviants live, but this was the next idea on your list of failed attempts at catching him. So, for the next few weeks, you lived on Ord Mantell.

It has felt like a vacation so far. No blaster bolts heading your way, no skeevy guild members to bargain with and absolutely no need to live in the most terrible of situations just to maybe catch your mark. You felt… normal. 

Today you were shopping. You only bought groceries for a few meals at a time so you would have an excuse to familiarize yourself with the setting. You learned the accent present in most humanoids in the area. It would be easy to convince anyone you were a native.

Wandering past a stall that sold a couple gifts and knick-knacks, you paused and browsed for a moment. There were some overpriced jewelry replicas, some small carved toys, a miscellaneous trinket or two… Feeling slightly nostalgic for a moment, you picked up a carved wooden tooka. It reminded you of a doll you had as a kid. How long ago were your younger years? With a longing glance and chuckle, you put it back down and carried on. 

You knew you had everything you needed, yet to continue the charade you started going through your basket of items to appear as though you were checking your shopping list. A small tug on your sleeve pulled away your focus with a start, and you almost reached for the blaster hidden under your groceries, but paused when you found a child to be the cause of the disturbance.

“Hello,” she said with a cheery tone. 

You watched her with skepticism before sounding out a wary “Hello.”

The child had notable blonde hair tucked under a hat and curious brown eyes that watched you. “I noticed that you looked a little sad,” she said with uncertainty and reached in her pocket. “So, I… I got you this. I hoped it would cheer you up.” She held up her hand and in her palm was the wooden tooka you were holding just moments ago.

It wasn’t everyday that a child tries to commit an act of kindness like this, so it warmed your heart slightly. Although, still suspicious. “T-thank you,” you told her quietly. 

A small laugh escaped her mouth. “You’re welcome! My brother has a similar toy that means a lot to him. It looks like it means a lot to you, too.” 

You couldn’t help the grin plastered on your face. “You must have a great brother,” you said as you knelt down to level with the girl.

“I really do!” She smiled at you some more, then held out her hand. “My name is Omega. What’s yours?”

Quickly, you fashioned up a fake name and gave it to her. She repeated it in her bizarre accent. 

“That’s a pretty name. Are you shopping?” Omega asked and pointed her eyes to your basket.

You looked at your basket yourself. Why is it so hard to talk to this kid? Is it really that hard to be social with anyone who isn’t a bounty? “Uh, yeah. I just finished up, actually. I’m about to head home.” 

Omega looked back at your face, wanting to continue the conversation. “I’m shopping too,” she then adjusted the straps to the bag on her back. “I’m almost done. Do you want to hang out with me while I finish up?”

This stunned you. But it also gave you the opportunity to continue blending in so you can work on hopefully capturing that damned clone. You nodded, then stood up. “Yeah, I think that would be fun. Are you sure it’s okay?” you asked her.

Omega confided in you with a cheerful “Yep! Besides, you don’t look all that dangerous.”

Oh, you sweet summer child.

With an uneasy laugh, you started to follow her. “Dangerous? Me? Impossible.” The tension in your body subsided a little as you tried to make small talk. “You, on the other hand? You look like you could take on a rabid rancor.”

Omega giggled and reached for your hand to hold onto while the pair of you walked. She said your name pointedly, “You have no idea.” She continued on chatting about small things, but for some reason you think she might have had something to do with a rancor at one point…

You only accompanied Omega for a little less than an hour, helping her haggle down some prices and looking for the best produce. She was more than grateful for your assistance, and honestly, you were beyond appreciative of the normalcy. Omega bid her goodbye and hoped she could shop with you again sometime. She ran off in the direction you assumed was her home. You were waving at her back before looking at that very hand, the one that held her hand while shopping.

What kind of humanity was this?

It’s been perhaps a month at this point. You haven’t scoped out the cantina yet so that any trace of you wouldn’t contaminate the job. You knew exactly where it was though. There was no worry there. 

Your blasters and rifle were ready to go at any time. When you weren’t in civvy clothes, you wore your field gear just in case you were ready to make your move. 

It was time to go shopping again. Part of you hoped that you’d run into Omega. The purity of her company was extremely sobering. Parts of you wondered what it would look like–feel like–if you retired and settled down. You would get to wear comfortable clothes like the ones you wear now. You’d go shopping while holding the hand of your partner, or eventually your child. You would add small wooden carvings to your list of things to buy, just to shower your offspring with love and–

What the fuck?

Your curious wondering had inserted your rival next to you as your partner. He held onto your hand and walked with you at a slow pace. He listened to you and spoke back calmly. At some point, you probably would have run a quick hand through his long hair as an action of endearment. His tattooed cheek would melt into your caress before he would press a kiss to your wrist. Your other hand was holding onto Omega’s. The three of you were a happy family–

Seriously, what the fuck?

You slapped your cheeks to get the imagery out of your mind. You shook your head as if you were trying to get rid of some tangles in your hair. Enough of those thoughts. Enough! You internally cursed yourself and were now looking forward to the end of this bounty. It’s time to get that clone off your mind for a while.

You did run into Omega again. She waved at you, calling your undercover name as she spotted you. “Let’s go shopping together!” she begged.

With a smile, you obliged. Yeah, you could do this one last time. One last time to act like a weightless being without a history of successful bounties, a ship you called a home instead of the apartment you were renting, the views of stars in space instead of the community you’ve learned to know…

In another lifetime, yeah. But not this one.

You approached Omega to close the distance. You were raising your hand to take her outstretched one–until someone ran past you quickly, ran past Omega and snatched her bag off of her arm.

You couldn’t believe how fast it all happened. Omega stumbled backward at the sudden jerk to her arm. She watched the thief run off for mere seconds before she took after him, yelling at him to stop.

Panic hit your soul as you watched. You couldn’t let this happen to her. Not a chance. No way you would let some asshole ruin your last memory with Omega. You reached into your basket and grabbed your blaster that was wrapped in a cloth. Unwrapping it quickly and dropping the empty basket, you started chasing. You switched your blaster to stun and flicked the safety off. You weren’t going to shoot blindly into the crowd–not until you had a calculated clear shot. 

You caught up with Omega. “Are you okay?” 

“I’m fine, but he–”

“Don’t worry kid. I’ll get it back for you.”

You hasten your pace to catch up with the thief–a Rodian. He was fast but wasn’t fast enough to escape you. You had stamina and a history of chasing, so this was nothing.

He shoved people out of the way and lost some of the distance he had on you. No matter. In true, inexperienced criminal fashion, he ducked into an alley. Either he just ran into a deadend or the gods blessed him with an actual throughway to another part of the city, but it was almost never the latter. 

Sliding to a halt at the mouth of the alley, you indeed found it to be a closed end. The Rodian was attempting to climb on top of crates and boxes to get to a balcony up above. Cocking an eyebrow, you took a shot at him. The stun blast hit him dead on and he fell into a pile of garbage bags below.

Omega caught up now. She watched you approach the downed Rodian and took Omega’s bag back. The young girl was braced with a stance of caution. “Do you always carry a blaster on you?” She took her bag from you gingerly and put it on her back, with both straps this time.

You sighed. “Yeah. It’s dangerous out here.”

“So you’re not a bounty hunter or something…?”

You paused. Well, shit. Do you lie to her? She’s such a good kid! “I, uh… kind of dabble in it here and there.”

Omega stepped backward and took a defensive position. “You’re not hunting me, are you?”

The anger in her eyes told you that she’s been the receiving end of a bounty or two. Why is someone putting bounties on a child? 

“Oh gods no, no no no. Omega, I would never. People actually put bounties on you? But you’re… you’re a child!”

Omega was still defensive and creating distance between you and her. “That’s none of your business!”

You stared down at the blaster in your hands. With another sigh, you knelt down to her level. You flipped the safety on and tucked the blaster into the waistband of your pants. You held your empty hands up to show her you were harmless, show her you had no intention of harming her. “Omega, I’m not hunting you. I swear to you.”

“The last time I trusted some stranger on the street, she tried to turn me in for a bounty. I’m too trusting. I want to assume people are good. I’m always wrong.”

Your hands fell into your lap. Watching tears form in Omega’s eyes broke your heart. If there was ever a sign to get out of bounty hunting… this was it. 

“I understand,” you say to her. Your shoulders slumped. Yeah, bounty hunting was the least glamorous job out there and you knew that. Putting bounties on a child is underworld level stuff. You never thought it was real, just myths told by guildmasters to scare you. In truth, they were testing the waters to see if you’d take the job.

Omega actually stepped forward. “Wait… you’re telling the truth.”

Meeting her eyes, you nodded. “Yeah. I am.”

“I’m sorry,” Omega told you. She spoke your name to get your attention. When you looked up, you saw her hand reaching for you. “Let’s go shopping. I don’t want my brothers to think something happened to me.”

You took her hand with a relieved smile. You rose to your feet. The pair of you started walking, Omega holding onto your hand like before. “Brothers, huh? You must have a big family.”

With a grin, Omega turned back to her carefree self that you met previously, and a weight lifted off of your chest.

You swore tonight you would find the clone you were hunting, and tell him it was over. You sure were going to miss this.

Omega bid you a goodbye and another wish that you two could go shopping again sometime. It took some effort to cover the broken smile you handed her, but you managed.

Heading back to your apartment, you put on your gear and grabbed your rifle. It was time to revisit an old lesson that you already learned from just so he could easily catch you. With a shake of your head, you still couldn’t believe a child was the cause of you wanting to quit. 

Again that imaginary situation where you and your partner were browsing the shops on the very street you walked with Omega. She on one hand and your clone target on the other. The clone was dreamy, to say the least. While the chase and failed attempts to catch him were part of the fun, you learned to appreciate the beauty in him. He was strong, smart, and a hell of a better hunter than you were. You smirked. Maybe that’s why his name is Hunter.

You were set up on a building across from the cantina, rifle loaded but not aimed at anything in particular. Hunter just had to do whatever it was that he did, show up with a blaster pointed at you, then it was over with. You had no idea how long it would take for him to show up, so you took the chance to lay on your back with your head propped with your hands underneath. The sky was pretty. There were stars dotting the sky. For a moment you wondered how many of those stars you had visited before. Which one would be perfect for an early retirement?

There was no telling how much time had passed before Hunter appeared before you.

“Getting a little sloppy, aren’t we?”

You sat up while observing him. He didn’t even have his blaster in his hand. He was still in full armor, though, minus helmet, so the blaster was at his side and his knife sheathed on his arm. He crossed said arms. 

You shrugged. “I think I’m just tired.”

Hunter tilted his head slightly with a raised brow. “Why bother, then?”

You pushed yourself to your feet and dusted off your clothes briefly. “I guess I wanted to come say goodbye. I’m quitting.”

He didn’t say anything for a while. His arms relaxed at his sides. “You’ve been here for over a month just to tell me you’re quitting?”

Your jaw dropped. “How did you know? I tried my best to hide my tracks!”

Hunter nodded down to the street where you heard a familiar voice. You saw Omega was perched on the shoulder of a larger man dressed in similar armor as Hunter. Wait, is Omega–

“I could smell you all over her. Plus, I have someone at the spaceports keeping an eye out for ships like yours.” Hunter’s hand started hovering over his blaster. “So, are you going to take this as another lesson and move on?”

Looking back at Hunter, you removed your helmet. Your helmet never covered much of your face to begin with, but you figured it would be a good gesture to show your face. You held out your hand, wordlessly asking for a handshake. “I’m done hunting. This is me letting you know that I’m retiring.”

Hunter looked at you, surprised. He wasn’t sure if this was a trick or what. Assessing your body language and expression, he felt that you were genuine. You couldn’t reach for a blaster if your helmet was tucked under the arm that wasn’t offering a handshake. He would be able to react quicker than you could, and you knew that, too.

Hesitantly, he took your hand and you both shook once. He didn’t let go, though. His eyes were stuck on the hands clasped together. 

“What did Omega say to you?” he asked.

You pulled your hand away before your cheeks could show a blush. “I knew bounty hunting was shitty to begin with. I had no idea how fucked up it was. Bounties on you? Understandable. But… on children? I’d rather protect someone like Omega before the thought of even glancing at a job like that.” You set your helmet on the ground next to your rifle. You ejected the magazine and double checked that the chamber was empty. 

Hunter watched carefully, each movement you made. He could definitely hear your heart speed up. He also sensed a tint of sadness in your words. Well, anyone would be sad about the thought of bounty hunting children. 

“She’s a good kid,” you said to Hunter. You slung your rifle onto your shoulder. “I’m gonna miss you,” you added.

Hunter sensed that sped up heart rate again. Was it yours? Or his? This cat and mouse game was a highlight in his life, he thought. It was a constant he could count on. There weren't many of those anymore. 

“Wait.”

“Hm?” You turned to lock eyes with Hunter at his little command. “Something on your mind?”

Hunter paused, not realizing he let that word slip out. “You uh… You should say goodbye to Omega.” 

You stared at him for a while. “That would be hard on her.”

“It would be even harder for her to realize you just left without a goodbye.”

You pursed your lips while trying to get a read on him. You really didn’t know what he was going for. Why couldn’t he just say he would miss this too? It’s easier than telling lies. Wait… “This isn’t about Omega, is it?”

Hunter turned his face to the side to avoid eye contact. 

“Where did Hunter run off to?” 

You looked down at the street below to hear Omega’s voice. She looked up and down the street before the big guy she was with shrugged. She followed his example and they headed into the cantina.

Looking back to Hunter, you gasped to find him closer to you, a few inches away at that. What was he getting at? What was he about to do? Your rifle strap slid down your arm and the weapon clattered to the ground. Hunter looked like he was struggling for what words to say next.

“I have to confess,” he said in a hushed tone, his hands landing on your shoulders. “This game of ours?” Slowly, he was leaning toward your ear. His voice was becoming softer, almost a whisper. “It’s one of the few things that got me through the war. Kept me sharp.”

Being this close to him, honestly with him getting this close to you, made you think of all the times your paths had crossed. Never once had the two of you ever touched each other. His hands were moving down your shoulders, down your arms, squeezing gently.

Your hands started to touch his armor covering his chest in response. Not fair! He can feel the shapes and curves on your arms but you can’t reach him?

Your eyes met his and it was no surprise there was a romantic tension in both visions. “What are you going to do now?” you asked him.

The back of one of his fingers traced your cheek. The action caused your breath to hitch in your throat. You had moved to standing on your tiptoes, your lips getting dangerously close to his. 

A grin graced his lips before he finally answered you. “This.”

That grin then kissed you, taking your breath away as he pushed passion into the actions, wrapping arms around you, a hand tugging at your hair at the base of your neck. This was unfathomable. You’d been chasing this man for a couple years, chasing after some credit amount that couldn’t compare to this. You had been chasing down this very moment. 

Your arms wrapped around his neck and you finally got to touch that beautiful hair of his. Soft, curly, so easy to pull. He growled into the kiss, distracting his tongue long enough for you to press yours into his mouth and take your turn exploring. 

The man was phenomenal. He was a fantastic hunter. He was an exceptional soldier. He was absolutely hot as hell. 

The tangled kiss eventually cooled off and the two of you pulled away but remained in each other's arms. He looked over you with half-lidded eyes. He could comment that yours looked like the galaxy was staring back at him. The galaxy only had eyes for him.

After a few quiet moments, you giggled. “Is that supposed to trick me into remaining a bounty hunter? So I can keep chasing you down to the most secluded planets for the rest of our days?”

Hunter audibly smirked. “I wouldn’t mind keeping you around if you promised to… say, hunt me down every so often?”

You laughed whole-heartedly. It caused him to chuckle with you. “Okay,” you nod, “okay. Yeah, that can be arranged.” You laid a small slap against his chest armor. “That sounds like a fair trade. I can keep hunting, you can keep getting off to it, and I get to be friends with Omega?”

Hunter moved in to kiss you again but instead bit your bottom lip in a warning. “Don’t promise me something you don’t plan on following through with.”

“Oh, honey. I never break promises.” You broke away from him to grab your rifle off the ground and slide it back onto your shoulder. Your other hand grabbed your helmet. “Care to,” you nodded to the cantina with your head, “share a drink with me?”

Hunter took a step so that he was sideways and held his arm out in a “lead the way” motion. You smiled and walked by him, more than happy with the outcome of this retirement. 

You had some kind of pep in your step you hadn’t seen in yourself in ages. On the way down the side of the building, you did have to ask him a clarifying question:

“Hey what did you mean you could smell me all over Omega?”

Hunter laughed nervously. “Well… let me introduce you to my brothers...”

They didn't mean for it to turn out this way. But they tried it once and couldn't stop themselves from wanting more.

[doctorstrangereview]

0063: Strange Tales #168

Cover Date: May 1968 On-Sale Date: February 1, 1968

This is it! It's Doc's final battle with Yandroth. (Not really.) It's Doc's final appearance in this incarnation of Strange Tales. It's Denny O'Neil's final Doc story. Strange Tales ends because of Marvel's great expansion. Despite being owned by competitor National Periodical Publications, owner of DC Comics, Marvel's distributor, Independent News, liked money and decided that letting them sell more issues meant more of it for them. Marvel's previous restrictions on the number of titles they could release each month were lifted. In the middle of 1968 you see an increase in titles. Anthologies like Strange Tales split into multiple titles for each feature. Marvel didn't like first issues because the didn't sell as well and one of the features would keep the prior magazine's numbering. As Doc was named after the magazine it's fitting he retained the Strange Tales numbering.

We left Doc last issue facing a dragon, a Viking and about to be shot in the back by Yandroth. Yandroth fires and misses. These Q-Ray blasters have yet to be of any use. Or maybe Yandroth is secretly an Empire Storm Trooper. While Doc is unharmed by the blast, he falls off his funky, floating platform while Victoria Bentley frets that Doc's defeat means she is BIG TROUBLE. How selfish, Vicky!

Doc isn't lost yet. The Ancient One has been doing the peeping tom thing and watching the proceedings. The old dude still has tricks of his sleeves. Well they do tend to be long and billowing. Doc's favorite old dude stops him from falling and gives our colorist the opportunity to use lots of lovely green. Green tends to be coded to villains in the series. Perhaps they are trying to redeem it.

The effort makes The Ancient One sleepy and he tells Doc to get on with it already. Meanwhile, Yandroth has forgotten about the Dragon. It appears and he tells Vicky to run. This isn't a noble gesture. He's trying to get the dragon to catch and eat her instead of himself. Yup, he's still a coward! Adkins gives us a lovely image of the action and Victoria is looking quite lovely herself.

As Vicky tries to avoid being eaten by a second-rate Godzilla, Doc is attempting to return to the battlefield. His thought say his cloak is returning him where he needs to be, but he's shown climbing up a weird pillar.

Yandroth slays the dragon. The Q-Ray blaster is finally good for something! He shouts out for Vicky, but is answered by Doc. Doc muses that his powers are greater in this dimension. Instead of casting illusions of himself, he is able to "fragment his form" into multiple versions of himself. Again, Adkins gives us an nice view.

O'Neil and Adkins burn of most of a page by having Yandroth struggle with Doc's cloak as he harasses Yandroth to tell him Vicky's location. He doesn't know and The Peeping Ancient One confirms this. Yes, he's still awake and still a mystical voyeur.

That's right. The dragon is dead, but those Vikings are coming out of hiding to menace the damsel in distress. They are closing in and Doc makes the choice to rescue Vicky even though it means letting Yandroth escape.

Yandroth is wiggling free of the cloak and his blaster is clear. Doc has another choice to make. He releases Yandroth from the cloak who happens to floating over a big empty nothing. What does that mean? Yandroth will be falling for a long, long time.

Vicky is still fleeing the fast approaching Vikings fast catching up with her. They throw a spear her way which causes her to trip, because, of course it does.

The Ancient One is getting very, very sleepy by this point and shouts a Doc to finish up. Doc points is fingers at the Vikings and they disappear. The Ancient One brings Doc and Vicky back to Earth. The Ancient One is like "Good job, Doc! Now go take a nap!" And our tale ends.

And there it is, the final Strange Tales Doctor Strange. A nice conclusion to a less then spectacular arc. O'Neil did well getting Doc out of the laboratory that Lawrence stuck him in. There is a definite improvement in the story for it's last too installments. Adkins has a lot of fun visualizing it. No Ditko swipes either! I wonder what people who were subscribed got as the next issue? I'm guessing it was Doctor Strange his book retained the numbering.

Roy Thomas will resume writing duties for the entirety of Doc's first volume. Adkins will stick around for a few issues before turning art duties to Gene Colan. Colan's surrealist style is batcrap crazy enough to mesh well with Doc.

With full issues to review it will take me twice as long to write these things!

[jinmukangwrites]

a place to call home

Fandom: Jedi Fallen Order / Survivor Rating: G Warnings: N/A Ao3 Notes: My older sister was playing Black Thunder (by Bad Wolves, Serj Tankian, and The Hu) and it took all my will power to not info dump about Jedi Fallen Order. I was very brave about it. Instead I wrote 2.6k word one-shot. I'm still so glad they brought The Hu back for more music in Survivor.

Summary: Pyloon's Saloon was named after his great-grandma; naturally, it was always a place meant for his family. Took Cal long enough to visit, but that's alright. He's not even that upset it took breaking the Mantis to get him here.

~~~°~~~

The saloon wasn't everything Greez had ever wanted, but it's his, and dammit if he won't make it everything he's ever wanted.

For now, it's incredibly shabby. Run down. The floorboards creak and there's some kind of mold on the walls. The furniture would have to be thrown out and replaced with things that are less stained and more inviting to use. He's pretty sure the booth chairs have blood stains on them, and vomit. The previous owner really didn't care about making the place homely, which is probably why no one was there to stop them from catching blaster-to-face disease.

The upholstery isn't even patolli-weave.

There are plenty of things that need repair. The upholstery for one, but the railing Monk uses to get around has a dent further down that prevents him from getting to the end of the battered bar, the walls need repainted, the doors leading upstairs are broken and the basement is covered in junk. That's not even the half of it. It's daunting.

Greez is so excited.

Well, the only thing he can do is start.

It's slow progress, but progress is progress no matter how small. He starts with the most essential stuff, only using Cere's money where he absolutely needs to. He'd like to save the majority of that for the actual food and beverages. Everything else? Well, he could fix the Stinger Mantis despite how many times Cal seemed determined to launch it into any imperial fleet he saw. He could keep the ship running after all that, how hard would a few automatic doors, the fish tank, and a music box be?

He could fix those on his own.

He works, and he works, every day until eventually he's able to actually serve customers. Doma comes in first, Turgle at her heels, but it's more pleasantries than anything. She's sober, most alcohols don't agree with her and she doesn't think they ever will, but she does try some food while Turgle chatters both their ears off after one drink. Doma hardly ever visits again unless she makes a particularly good profit at her store and wishes to treat herself to his food. Turgle comes all the time, which worries Greez at first because he talks to anyone else who enters; mostly one-time patron prospectors. One-time is a loose word, most of these prospectors end up dead looking for things they probably shouldn't.

Though, slowly, Greez gets more regular that Turgle doesn't chase away. Sparse, but there. He even, to his disdain, gets visits from the local gang. Those Bedlam Raiders give him bad mojo, but as long as they're not challenged they don't do anything besides antagonize a little.

It's good.

Greez misses Cere, he wishes she'd visit, but they at least talk whenever they're both free. Merrin visits whenever she passes by, as rarely as that is, which he appreciates; he's long since admitted he adores her even if she's a spooky witch that there's a slight possibility she's waiting for the perfect opportunity to jump him and blood sacrifice him. And Cal...

Cal.

It's impossible to not care for the kid, even though he hardly ever responds to his messages. He's busy with other people, fighting the good fight, probably scratching the Mantis to shreds. Cal's angry with him, Greez knows this. After Cere and Merrin left, it was only the two of them. Three, including BD-1. But two, because BD-1 and Cal were practically the same entity anyways. Greez knew that him leaving had hurt Cal, but... Greez just couldn't fly anymore. He couldn't handle that danger that Cal chased. For the first time in Greez's life, he wanted to land and live calmly. He's had enough of space, enough of the Empire.

So no, Cal hardly talks, nor does he visit, but Greez does his best to keep the kid in mind anyways. Cal can't stay away forever. Someday, he's going to break the Mantis just right and come back with his tail between his legs because he only knows how to take apart starships, not fix them. Greez did his best to teach him to fix some basic stuff, but Cal ripped out the broken bits so roughly that Greez nearly had an aneurysm. He ended up having to replace some wiring Cal had thought was "useless". Yeah, useless to resell. Expensive to replace new. Didn't teach him that in scrapper school.

Greez hopes Cal wrecks the Mantis soon. It's been too long. He even misses that little droid and how he always seems to purposely be underfoot while Greez cooked.

He misses Cal so bad that he almost begins to subconsciously fix things up in the saloon with Cal in mind. He keeps all of them in mind, of course, he named the place after his great-grandma this place is meant for family, but Cal's the only one who still seems lost in life, who's scrambling through the Galaxy trying to find footing but not really knowing what he wants. It's an easy decision to make the basement for Cal. Kid needs a home, and Greez will make sure there's always one waiting for him when he needs it.

"It's not the best, but it'll do until I find you something better," Doma says, one day, months into Greez's stay. He's become good friends with Doma, she's probably the only one who truly understands leaving the fast life because it became too much.

Greez holds a small jukebox in his lower pair of hands, looking it over and wondering slightly how she had gotten her hands on it. It's dingy. Battered. Probably isn't too loud. But he trusts Doma when it comes to this stuff, she doesn't skip out on him, she always does the best she can. She's the one who got him all the Patolli-weave in the first place. If this small jukebox is the best she can do, then he's happy. It's better than nothing. It's not like he can afford a live band like all the big cantina's have in more trafficked corners of the Galaxy, let alone pay live performers. So, something small that can probably only be heard when you're a good few meters within its range is something he can accept compared to the sad silence.

"It's radio is broken," Doma says, though she laughs, "not like that matters. The Koboh-abyss blocks most of the good channels. There's some tracks in there though, and I can always see if I can keep an eye out for more music if you want anything different. I tried to put things on there that would fit the atmosphere of Pyloon's."

Greez opens the compartment of the music box and sure enough, there's an old cartridge-like device with a frugal list of songs. He doesn't recognize any of the songs, let alone the artists, but once again, he trusts Doma.

"How much do I owe ya?" He asks. Doma gives him a price. It's a little high in his opinion, but she's a business woman and not one to make discounts even for friends. He happily hands over the credits, then shuts the compartment. Before he leaves, however, a thought crosses his mind.

"Hey," he asks, "have you heard of The Agasar?"

-o-o-o-o-

Just like Greez hoped, Cal eventually breaks the Mantis enough to seek him out. It's great to see the kid, but it's so unexpected it hardly registered even after saying hi to BD-1.

The kid looks like he's barely been sleeping, let alone eating, though he at least looks like he's gotten plenty of sun. There's freckles everywhere, way more than what he had after Greez first nabbed him off that sunless sopping-wet rock Bracca.

Luckily, the food and sleep problem is exactly what Greez was expecting.

He's careful to not baby Cal too much, not when Cal's clearly hurting about something. It probably took a lot of convincing on BD's part to get Cal over here and Greez knows that topics like "settle down" "live your own life" and "pack away the lightsaber for a little bit" will only start arguments. Cal's at a point in his life where he doesn't yet see that he has value beyond being a weapon, but Greez is hoping that the right pushes here and there will get him there.

For now, he introduces Cal to his room. It's chock full of things that used to belong to Cal and things Greez plans on giving to Cal. There's nothing else to call it besides his room. Cal seems shocked by the space so clearly set aside and prepared for him, and his face softens into a hurt kind of touched that Greez knows means he appreciates the room a lot but doesn't think he can accept it.

Give it time, Greez.

Honestly it's a miracle Cal managed to sleep at all. The bed must have been comfy because when Greez goes down the next morning to check on him, he's out like a light. Doesn't shift at all, not even a roll of movement behind his eyelids. BD-1 charges silently besides him, looking all content and almost cute. Greez can't help but watch the two of them for a moment, drinking in the peace, wishing Cal could feel like he deserves a little of it.

And sure, the morning starts with a bit of an argument, one that Greez has to end up dropping when Cal goes silent, signaling the conversation is over. He wishes he can shake sense into him, show him that he doesn't need to hold the line all the time. But for now, he can at least make sure Cal knows that Greez has a place for him. A home.

"And Greez... I'll think about what you said."

That's all he can ask for.

And it's somehow not a surprise that Cal comes back a few hours later through the front door looking all dusty and giddy. Greez had been busy trying to turn away some guy with more muscle in one pectoral than what Greez had on his entire body, but Cal quickly introduces Bode as a friend.

Cal also introduces Zee, an ancient Jedi droid, raving about old prospector legends; the treasure planet of Tanalorr. Whatever exhaustion and sadness weighed Cal down this morning has lifted with the breath of adventure, and Greez isn't about to turn him away from it.

However, when Greez offers to fix the Mantis while Cal goes out to check out the forest array, he has to stop the kid from leaving right out the door not three minutes after walking in it.

"Hold on," Greez says, stopping Cal in his tracks. "Have you even eaten anything since arriving?"

Cal pauses, and Greez knows the answer. Greez brushes his hands on his clothes and starts heading to the kitchen. "Grab some seat."

"Greez," Cal halfheartedly argues, slumping down at the bar while that Bode guy chuckles and sits down the next stool over.

"The array's already waited a few hundred years, what's a couple more hours?" Greez asks, looking for his mitts. It's been awhile since he's cooked anything himself, the saloon has a set menu and he's already shown Monk how to cook all those things. "Monk's fixing up Zee, let me fix up you."

He hears Cal chuckle, he says something to Bode, but Greez can't hear because he's officially in the kitchen and turning on the stoves. 

"Oh—krif-" he stumbles, barely managing to stop himself from dropping his nice glass pan while BD-1 boops happily and skitters out of the kitchen. Greez shakes his head. 

He makes an old casserole recipe that his great grandma got from her great grandpa. He has to replace some of the ingredients with other things, as Lateron spices are both hard to get his two pairs of hands on and also sometimes poisonous to human stomachs. He wouldn't want to poison Cal on day two of him finally visiting.

Now that's a thought, he could mildly poison Cal and force him to get some more sleep. He chuckles to himself, he'd never do that.

He brings the casserole out a good hour later, finding Cal lazily slumped over the bar, his finger tracing the rim of a cup. Monk must have visited for a moment between working on repairing Zee, Greez hopes he didn't give the kid anything too strong. Bode is nowhere to be seen, but once Cal notices him arriving he perks up and explains Bode went to the restroom.

That might keep the man busy for a while, Greez thinks happily, the toilet always clogs and Bode seems like the kind of guy who would rather suffer trying to unclog a public toilet instead of walking out and pretending he didn't do it.

He gives Cal a larger portion than what's a normal serving size, and Cal eagerly digs in, closing his eyes in satisfaction after the first bite. "Spirits, I missed your cooking, Greezy money."

Greez chuckles then gives himself a serving, then hops onto his specially made chair. They eat in comfortable silence for a while. Cal seems content, lazy, and eager all at the same time. Sure, the kid thinks he can't stay in one place for long, but now he has something to do here. Greez can't help but be thankful for Zee, more thankful than he's been for any droid in his entire life. He'll be seeing more of Cal for a little while longer.

Before Cal finishes his helping, he pauses, his eyebrows coming together as he chews slowly. Concerned, Greez looks at him, wondering if he accidentally burned some vegetables or something, but Cal swallows and looks at Greez with wide eyes.

"Is that... The Agasar?"

Greez listens, and sure enough, Eseerin Vasahina plays softly in the distance where Greez's old jukebox sits. Cal stands and follows the sound of the music towards the beat down stage. After a second, Greez follows. Cal has this dumb grin on his face, his eyes are closed and his head bops slightly to the thundering drums and screeching violins.

"I thought you didn't like The Agasar," Cal says after a second, opening his eyes to look down at Greez. Stars, the kid is practically beaming.

And yeah, Greez doesn't really care for their music, they're loud and whenever Cal tried to play their music over the Mantis speakers, it always ended up giving Greez a headache.

Greez folds both pairs of arms, trying to not look as proud of himself as he feels. "I'm surprised you don't like them too, considering Sorc Tormo tried to have you mauled to death to the tune of one of their songs."

Cal's grin widens. "Greez, if I had to die to the tune of a song, I would love it to be Sugaan Essana."

"Morbid," Greez says, and Cal laughs.

Greez watches as Cal returns to appreciating the music, something warm settling somewhere in his stomach. Cal may think he can't have a place to call home, but dammit if Greez won't pound into his head that the saloon, at the least, could be. Maybe this mission for Tanalorr will keep Cal around long enough to see that.

For now, Greez will just support Cal where he can. Food, Mantis repairs, a bedroom, and some music.

As Cal uses the back door to leave the saloon while Greez goes with Bode to lock up the front doors, he finds himself content with just that much. Cal probably has no plans to stick around longer than what this Tanalorr mission would allow, but man it's good to have him around even for that long.

He's a good kid, and Greez will cherish his presence while he has it, and make sure Cal understands that here, at Pyloon's Saloon, he will always have a place to return to.

[andy-solo1]

The Grilled Cheese Escape

My exchange gift for Mags in the Duros server, hope you like it! 

Side note, I hate grilled cheese so I guess i accidentally made reader hate it too lol. 

Words: 879

Warnings: Brief allusions to sex, references to character death

______________________________

All eyes in the small run down restaurant landed on you as you walked through the doors. Not that you really blamed them, you looked horrible after running half ways through the city. Your hair was wind whipped, your face flushed from exertion, and your clothes torn in a couple of places from catching yourself on objects and blaster shots that just barely missed. 

The price to pay for having a bounty on your head, and a high one at that. You knew now that you should have known better than to trust your former partner on the last job you’d pulled, one that left you both with a massive payday that was apparently not big enough for your partner. She stole your half of the payout and within the hour every bounty hunter within half the galaxy of you was after you because of the price on your head. 

That’s what comes from trusting someone with deep connections. While they’d helped on the job, they certainly didn’t help you now that you were wanted. What made it even worse, was the bounty hunter who’d been chasing you all across this hell hole of a backwater planet, Cad Bane. 

You knew Bane more, intimately, than most would. A sort of, bounty hunters with benefits arrangement between the two of you. You’d help him out with jobs the odd times he needed more than just himself, and if you both happened to be alone in a bar at the same time, well then things could be sure to come of it. But that all meant nothing to the hunter who’d been the only one you hadn’t been able to shake off your tail since this whole mess started. 

Now you were just tired, starving, and sore all over. You could risk sleeping and the only cure for your soreness would be sleep. So that left you with only being able to cure your hunger, and since you thought you’d lost Bane for the moment, you decided to at least grab a quick bite to eat. 

“I’ll take whatever this will get me.” You told the shop owner as you sat down at an open seat at the main bar before the kitchen, slapping down your last few credits onto the counter in front of you. The man nodded and slipped back into the kitchen to fetch your food. 

As you waited, you studied the area, making sure none of the people around you were hunters lying in wait. And indeed they weren’t, all just tired locals out for a bite to eat, their attention already turned away from you. 

“Here.” Grunted the owner as he came back and slapped a plate of food down before you. You turned to look, wrinkling your nose up in distaste as you took in the greasy grilled cheese sandwich sitting on the plate before you. 

You’d eaten worse, but that still didn’t mean you wanted to eat this. You picked bitterly at the bread on the sandwich, trying desperately to get some without the very dubious looking cheese. 

You didn’t get too far into picking apart the sandwich however, as the door suddenly swung open and a very familiar form stood in the doorway, his hat tipping in your direction and you knew he’d spotted you. 

The next few moments were a blur as you rushed up from your seat at the same time he rushed towards you. In a panic and without thinking, you grabbed the sandwich and hurled it at his face before running as fast as you could past him and out the door.

___________________________

It took you a while, but you were eventually able to track down your former partner and eliminated the problem. Now the bounty was gone from your head, you had your stolen credits back, and you were no longer being hunted all over the galaxy. 

You were finally able to relax and just sit in your favourite Canteen, enjoying your favourite drink. 

“Well, innit lucky fer you ye got dat bounty taken off yer head.” Bane drawled from behind you and you turned in your seat to look at him, grinning. 

“Or what? You would have caught me? I seemed to have gotten away from you well enough.” You replied cockily. He snorted in response. 

“Wit a cheap move like da one you pulled?” He sneered. “Though, I gotta admit, it did work for ya.” He admitted. You let out a small huff of laughter at what he must have looked like, face covered by that horrid grilled cheese sandwich. 

“Must have been quite the sight to see. The fearsome Cad Bane, taken down by some cheese and bread.” You laughed. He growled low and narrowed his gaze. 

“Ye owe me a drink fer dat.” He growled out. Still laughing, you nodded. 

“I’ll buy you all the drinks you want if you got a picture of what you looked like. Oh! Or, do tell, how long did it take to clean off?” You laughed. He just growled more at you, and you knew not to push him too far. You made sure to buy him a few drinks to make up for it, plus, it gave you a good excuse to bug him more about it.

[brandwhorestarscream]

Ask me about Megatron's first major injury in the repop project >:)

what happened?

Oh, I am so glad you asked ☺️

So, when the main trio escape, it's during an orchestrated power outtage, so they've got about 20 minutes to run as fast as their little legs can carry them. But when they're discovered missing, their caretakers hurry to alert HQ--3 children escaped the farm.

As their owner, Optimus is immediately alerted that his products have somehow gotten off the farm, but not to worry! A team is already being dispatched to retrieve them, alive and unharmed. They'll be returned to the farm and their development will continue until he's ready to have them harvested :)

Except, unfortunately, because their farm is an institution that produces very high quality goods, it is primarily sponsored and owned by the Senate, they naturally have to be alerted as well. They recieve the files and information on the three that escaped, and are promptly slapped in the face with shock and horror when they see Lord Megatron, Prince Starscream, and Spymaster Soundwave, the three worst, most dangerous decepticons ever to live are the escapees. As of now they don't know who's responsible for commissioning them, and there's a lot of pointing fingers and squabbling, but if they can agree on one thing it's that those kids are a threat to everything they've built and need to be put down, immediately.

A second retrieval team is dispatched, directly employed by the Senate, with orders to kill the escapees on sight if they won't come quietly.

Now the kids are smart and have been preparing for this, but they're still just inexperienced children. Megatron gets hit with a blaster, on the upper left side of his helm. It doesn't kill him, barely misses damaging his processor, but it's still a grievous injury that maybe-permanently destroys his left optic and leaves him unconscious and bleeding.

The other two only manage to get him out of there by the sudden reawakening of bitty Soundwave's telepathy, a dangerous skill that can complete shatter others minds' if he can't control it. Which, he can't. He's baby.

Anyway, they keep running from the retrieval teams hunting them and manage to find some shelter, but Megatron is still bleeding and they only know some surface level first aid. They're both panicked, crying, terrified. This is the reality of the outside world: warframe children like themselves really are nothing but animals to them, and now their brother is going to die without ever getting a true taste of freedom

[sullustangin]

Fluffy February Day 5: Amber

Rating: PG

Fandom: SWTOR

Time: In between KotET and Iokath

Pairing:  none

Word count: 1323

~~

“The inscription identifies the original owner and crafter of the piece.  The kyber crystal utilized here is a unique color choice.  The age of the hilt combined with the exceptional crystal leads me to one conclusion.  This is not a forgery.” Talos Drellik took an unsteady breath inward.  “Yes, I do believe that this is Tulak Hord’s lightsaber, pending its activation.”  

“Last known owner: Darth Marr,” Lana Beniko added sadly.   Then she brightened up, a little.  “It is good to see it again.  Like an old friend.”

Captain Eva Corolastor nodded, a smile forming, then tapering away.  The sequence of events made sense, all these years later.  There was some relief in knowing that it was safe, not lost at all.

The three of them had known and admired Darth Marr while he was alive; Talos wasn’t sure if the word was ‘admiration’ from Eva’s point of view, but she and Marr seemed to have an acute understanding of the other.

And then…

There was Arcann, who was helping to oversee the liquidation of the Eternal Empire’s ill-gotten gains. Of the four, Eva and Arcann had been in the room when Marr met his end…and they had been on very different sides at the time.

Now the former Eternal Emperor stood quietly, like a man in the dock, waiting to be judged yet again.

“Figured this is what happened to it,” Eva said quietly.  “He had to have both my blaster and Marr’s lightsaber on him, depending on who was ultimately going to make the killing hit.”

Talos saw Arcann’s throat bob, nervously.  She didn’t say his name.  

When Arcann said, “The construction of the artifact is superior.  I remember being fascinated by it,” he reached to pick up the lightsaber.

“Don’t even think about it.” Eva’s voice came coolly, the ice belying the anger Talos could already see simmering.  “You’re not worthy of it.”  

Arcann stopped his hand, immediately, and withdrew it.  He was more than adequately chastised and stung by her words.  However, he still had his tongue in his head, and he was wise enough to compliment the piece.  “Such wonderful objects are made to be used and passed on.  Do you know if Darth Marr had any heirs?”  

“Ramesses.”  Talos and Eva said in one voice.  Then, disparately, yet still together. “Have you heard—”  “Do you know –“  Then “What of Fria –?”  “Halfsand might, if she –”

Eva rapped on the table in frustration.  “So many dead.  So many missing.  So many in hiding.”

Arcann bowed his head. “That is my fault.”

“Yes, it is,” Eva confirmed, not looking at him.  Then she turned to Lana.  “Fire it up?”

Lana nodded, reaching for the saber.  With a careful grip, her fingers and palms trying to align with the grooves worn into the hilt over the decades, Lana activated the lightsaber.

The amber blade hummed to life, as brilliant as Talos remembered it.  In the sea of Sith red and purple, Jedi blue and green, Marr’s personal weapon stood out among them all.  Objectively, it was beautiful.  

Lana held the hilt carefully for half a minute before she deactivated the blade.  “It is uncomfortable to wield, in more ways than one,” she said to Eva.  Then to Talos:  “Is the museum on Dromund Kaas able to hold this?  And keep it, mind you?  Many would give a great deal to have this trophy.”

Talos sighed longingly at the lightsaber.  “As much as it does belong in a museum, no, I think we’d be tempting fate if we were to take it there, at this time.  Too much clamoring to be at the top of Sith society, too many aspirations to be on the Dark Council.”  

Lana laid the lightsaber back in its case and closed it, then handed it off to Eva.  It would remain on Odessen, the silent consensus.

“Thanks, Talos.  Catch you at Dr. O’s at 1600?” Eva tossed the invitation over her shoulder as she headed toward the vaults of Odessen to store the lightsaber of two powerful men.  

“Yes, I’ll be along.” And with his words, Eva and Lana walked out of the room together.  As they moved down the hall, Talos saw the two women bow they heads in toward each other to speak.

Talos gathered his datapads and his holocam.  He had documented the hilt and its disposition thoroughly.  

Then a voice.  “I would like to make this right.  Can you help me find him?  The one they call Ramesses?”

Talos startled slightly to find Arcann still there.

…he had a tendency to do that.  Despite the stark white garments and the large, imposing frame, Arcann had the knack of being able to disappear into the walls of Odessen… probably because many wished he simply was not there.  

“You do know people would hide him, just because you are the seeker.”

Arcann nodded, frowning deeply.  “Yes. And I know you have no reason to help me.  But… I see more clearly than I did when Darkness consumed me.”  He looked down at his hands.

Everything Kallig had been to Talos ran through his mind, like a holofilm on fast-forward.  “…do you have any friends here on Odessen? Those that might be able to help us?”

Arcann nodded.  “Koth plays multi-dimensional chess with me.”

Oh, what a simple definition of friendship.  

~~

Some months later, the storage container was retrieved from the vaults by Lana Beniko.  She brought it, as ordered, to the war room on Odessen.

Standing seven feet tall, his skin a brilliant red, and shockingly soft-spoken, Lord Ramesses of Bergeren bowed deep and low as she entered the room.  That visibly threw Beniko slightly, even as she deposited the box on the table.

Talos had told him that’s how ‘the boy’ had been on Yavin 4.

It was Ramesses, Marr’s last apprentice, who opened the case.  He gazed upon the large, heavy hilt as Talos gave him a historical briefing on the item. Ramesses nodded along; from what Talos had said, he had been the object’s caretaker on Marr’s behalf when he wasn’t using it in combat.  

Then the moment of truth came.  Ramesses picked up the large hilt with far more ease than Beniko had, and he ignited the blade.

The amber of the blade matched the amber of his eyes.  The hilt seemed to fit easily in his hand.

Yes, Arcann decided, this was the rightful owner. Another thing put to right, something else yanked out of the Darkness he had brought to the galaxy.  

This… reunion… felt more true to his nature than what he had done before.

Once the lightsaber was deactivated and holstered by Ramesses, the Sith had turned to the Captain for her approval. (Arcann knew what that was like.)  She affirmed the obvious: it was his, and welcome to the Alliance – a firm hearty handshake ensued, then an invitation to the next pazaak night the cantina had.

As everyone started to file out, Arcann caught Eva’s eyes for a second, the kindness she’d extended to Ramesses still there.  “Good work.”

He heard the words, and for a split second, he had all the warmth in the universe.

Even after she had gone, with Agent Shan and his hand at the small of her back, Arcann lingered in the happy feeling.  Not just her approval, but the sensation of righting wrongs, untying all the ugly knots he’d made in the ties of the galaxy, and defying fate and destiny.  

During their war, Eva had spoken out against any fate that was shoved upon her.  Arcann agreed with her, but for wholly wrong reasons.

She was still right. He still agreed with her, but not out of pride or ego.  Arcann despised the concept of destiny, because by his birth, raising, and actions until he was 25, his destiny had always been Darkness.  

And now it wasn’t.  

He could do so much more in the galaxy than that.

~~

@fluffyfebruary

~~

@ermingarden @starlightcleric @the-sith-in-the-sky-with-diamond @bluephoenix1347 @ayresis

~~

Arcann peoples who kindly responded to my page about their boy:  @sheyshen @haledamage​ @queen-scribbles​ @valleyofthemachinegods​ @swtorramblings​ @sarpndo​  -- thank you!! 

[burnwater13]

The droid teacher was droning on about hyperspace travel and smuggling and Grogu wondered why she didn’t just hand each of the children in the class room a blaster pistol and an eyepatch. They were all going to be pirates or smugglers based on what she was teaching them. 

He sighed. He was bored. His dad had dumped him at the school and gone off on an adventure without him and he didn’t really want to be pirate or a smuggler. Nope, he wanted to be a starship pilot. And not something crummy like a Tie Fighter pilot, where your ship didn’t even have a hyperdrive. Nope, he wanted to pilot something awe inspiring and useful, like a S-161-XL. 

You’ve never seen one? No surprise there, not many were made. A luxury yacht with a rotating wing design, their purpose was to make your friends green with envy. Or just filled with envy. Either way.  

What’s useful about a star yacht? First they have a great galley and a persevere and droid chef built in that could make any kind of food for any kind of person. No more ration packs and dried packets of stuff that turned out to be mostly made from vegetable fibers. 

Second, a star yacht has cabins with the most comfortable beds known to exist in the whole galaxy. Soft, slippery, bouncy, and warm. Importantly, there were at least two of them on the S-161-XL, which meant that Grogu wouldn’t need to listen to his dad snore unless he was missing that sound. Trust him, that’s not a sound you miss. 

Third, one of the cabins had a private privy and fresher. And they were custom designed to the owner/operator’s needs. Grogu wouldn’t have to use the Force to access switches, buttons, and valves any more. That would be a welcome change of pace. 

Fourth, beyond the creature comforts he’d just described, the bridge of the vessel could also be custom designed with his needs in mind. While he initially thought of the whole thing being made to his person specifications, he realized that he wanted his dad to be able to fly the ship once in a while as well, so instead of a tiny bridge, it would have a gliding pilot’s seat for him that allowed him to access all the necessary controls and would still give his dad room to move around. That seemed like a fair compromise. 

Fifth, most of the starships Grogu had ever seen were dull, like those stupid Tie Fighters buzzing overhead. Not the shooting and flying part, the black paint job part. An S-161-XL could be painted any color he wanted and if he wanted it to be painted like the lava flats, or Tatooine’s Dune Sea, he could get that at a small, extra cost. 

That was the sort of thing that Grogu knew that he couldn’t let his dad help him with. Din Djarin was perfectly happy with ship’s grey. Something about bounty hunters not wanting to stand out. Grogu always laughed at that considering how shiny his dad’s armor was. You could see reflections off him in a dark cabin. There was hiding being a Mandalorian for him. 

Finally, Grogu liked the esthetics of the ship’s design. It spoke to him. It said things like, ‘I’ll feed you well, keep you warm, give you a place where you belong, and help you reach your destination, safe and sound’. Grogu liked those things. 

Not that the Razor Crest hadn’t been a great ship in its own right. It had. But it’s best days were behind it. How many times could it be rebuilt and not show the signs of wear and tear. Especially tear. Spiders, X-wings, even Tie fighters, had left a mark on the ship. Then falling into the ocean. Being repaired by Mon Calamari, or as Din Djarin described it, ‘being redecorated as a Mon Calamari all you could eat seafood bar’. A score of other insults to the hull’s integrity, the ship’s reliability, and Grogu’s diminished willingness to fall out of his hammock had ruined his affection for the craft. It was a pity. 

But at least it wasn’t a Tie Fighter. 

[miss-musings]

Because I've watched this scene and these gifs more times than I can count, I'm going to give you a quick breakdown of all the little details in this scene. (Many people already shared some of these in the tags/reblogs on this post. I just felt like compiling all of them into one, while also adding some of my own observations.)

First gif: Omega stops a few feet away from them. Hunter looks at Omega and seems to smile, while Crosshair closes his eyes, shakes his head and chuckles. My HC is that he's thinking back to their conversation in 3.05: "You're capable, but you are still a kid." He now realizes it's both: she's capable AND she's a kid -- their kid.

Second gif: Omega is looking at Hunter first. Then her eyes move to Crosshair, and then specifically down to his missing hand. This is the first time she sees that his right hand is gone. (She saw him earlier in the CX lab, but she didn't see his hand was missing because she was on his left side.)

Third gif: Hunter looks from Omega to Crosshair (and seems to specifically look down at his missing hand). Meanwhile, Crosshair almost looks like he's spacing out at first, but then he looks up at Omega. I love his expression here. I really think this is when he finally realizes their fight is over, but I just can't shake the impression of a dog/cat looking at its owner like, "So... Did I do... good?" (I think someone else said in the tags/reblogs that they look like cats who brought her a dead bird or something. LOL. I really can't unsee it now, especially with how Crosshair's expression changes as he looks at Omega.)

Fourth gif: Omega's eyes flick from Crosshair's face to his missing hand back to his face again. She then bursts into tears. 😭 (It's hard to tell with the rain, but when they stand up later, she definitely wipes tears from her eyes.)

Fifth gif: We got a lot going on in this one, so let's go left to right. Hunter turns to watch Omega hug Crosshair, and he seems to be happy or at least content to see the two of them embrace. Then, we have Omega closing her eyes and straight up throwing herself at Crosshair. (Very reminiscent of how she hugged Echo in 2.14.) If you look really closely, you can see some tears/rain flying off Omega's face as she does. Finally, you can tell from the way Crosshair's torso/head jerks back as she embraces him that he was NOT ready for that. Like girl just barreled into him with no warning. (Again, kinda like what happened when she hugged Echo the first time in 2.08.) Then, the shot switches to Crosshair's face and you can see how shocked he is: wide eyes and slightly open mouth. 😯 There's a lot of other emotions going on there, but shock is probably the biggest/most noticeable one. Also, the English-Audio Description says Crosshair’s eyes well with tears once Omega hugs him. Even with a brightened gif, I don’t see any tears in his eyes, but this would absolutely be the moment for them.

Sixth gif: Crosshair's eyes shift from looking forward to looking at Omega. His expression changes too: his mouth is closed and his eyes have softened. It's a look of pure love. Both Omega herself and the shot move to bring Hunter into the hug too. We get a view of all three of them now. Crosshair closes his eyes and leans his head against hers. Hunter, who also has a very soft and happy expression on his face, also closes his eyes and leans into Omega. He also puts his green-gloved left hand on her back. (I've seen a lot of people ask whether it's Hunter's hand or Crosshair's. It's definitely Hunter's. Crosshair is still holding his rifle in his left hand, as we see later when they stand up. Meanwhile, Hunter's free left hand is holding Omega and -- as we see in the next gif -- his right hand and blaster are against Crosshair's back.)

Seventh gif: Another angle of Hunter and Crosshair leaning into Omega's embrace. It's important to note that while Crosshair can't use either hand/arm, he is reciprocating the hug as best as he can. As I said, we can also see that Hunter has his right arm and blaster on Crosshair's back -- Hunter is hugging both of them. Omega's eyes are initially closed as she hugs them. If you look really closely, it looks like her left hand tightens around Crosshair's neck right before she opens her eyes and prepares to release them. 🥺

~end of gif analysis~

One final thing I'll add is that, while it's not in the gifs, I love how Crosshair puts his stump on Omega's shoulder as they walk away. Essentially, his reaction to/preference for physical touch is somewhere between Echo and Tech's. Like Echo (at least in 2.08), when Omega initiates a hug, he's unprepared but accepts and reciprocates it as best he can. But, when he initiates, he's a lot like Tech: he's comfortable with just putting a reassuring hand on her shoulder, because he's not really a hugger. 🥹

Anyway, I just wanted to add this, because I love this scene so much. It has lived in my head rent-free for two months now, and probably will for the foreseeable future.

Star Wars: The Bad Batch 3.15 | The Cavalry Has Arrived

[annisthree]

Chapter V: The spark

previous chapter // masterlist // next chapter

Pairing: Cassian Andor x Original Female Character

Word Count: ~6k

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Explicit language, canon typical violence, angst

Chapter summary: Marla and Cassian are ordered to go to Coruscant to meet with an anonymous informant that claims to have some valuable intel. It definitely doesn't look like a trap.

A/N: 

Thank you for your patience. Life has been a bit funny recently, but I'm hoping to return to a weekly schedule soon. Just know that I deeply appreciate all the comments and kudos, and, in general, I appreciate all of you.

The warning has been in the tags since the very beginning, but just to reiterate: this has major spoilers to Andor.

Cross-posted on AO3 (same username).

The journey to Coruscant felt much longer than it really was.

Throughout the flight, Marla couldn't shake off the feeling of unease that settled in her gut as soon as they left Yavin IV. Perhaps it was the knowledge that they were walking into the rancor's den, right into the heart of the Empire, the exact opposite of where anyone with even a trace amount of survival instinct would go. Or perhaps it was the unspoken tension between her and Cassian, which seemed to have only grown since they came back from Ontasou.

As a result, she spent the entire flight in the cockpit, fingers tracing the control panel absentmindedly, eyes fixed on the never-ending stretch of stars outside. Cassian, on the other hand, retreated to the cargo bay, where he sat trying to finish reprogramming his new toy.

Marla couldn't help but wonder if the droid was supposed to take over the role of Cassian's best friend, now that she had clearly no longer fit the description.

Stars. They had definitely been spending too much together; she was beginning to imitate his signature broodiness.

The entrance to the cantina where they were supposed to meet the informant was tucked away in a dimly lit alleyway, and the only indication of its presence was the faint sound of music and laughter that spilt out onto the street. A neon sign above the door flickered in a hypnotic rhythm, casting an eerie multicoloured glow on the pavement.

'The Underbar, huh? Cause we're... underground? How smart. And how inviting.'

Cassian just shrugged, his eyes carefully scanning the surroundings. 'It's the only place where you can safely have these kinds of conversations. The owner is a sympathiser and has some sort of connections that allowed this place to be off the Imperial radar.'

'Connections?' Marla furrowed her brow, a reaction both to Cassian's words and to the foul smell that just hit her nostrils.

'Probably some dirt on someone important,' Cassian shrugged again and suddenly grabbed Marla's arm to stop her from bumping into a group of shady-looking Rodians that skittered past, their footsteps echoing on the grimy pavement.

'Seems like you've been here before.'

The edges of Cassian's lips quirked up ever so slightly. 'Once or twice.'

The door to the cantina was a thick slab of durasteel, dented and scratched from years of use. A few flickering surveillance cameras were mounted high above the entrance, scanning the area for any suspicious activity. Somehow, that didn't make Marla feel any safer.

As she continued to observe the building and the traffic around it, she felt Cassian's hand on her back, giving her a signal to move forward. Together, they crossed to the other side of the street and pushed the large door open.

Marla expected some sort of a check, maybe a search - she even had some credits at the ready, because even though the coat she had borrowed from Cassian was spacious enough to cover the blasters strapped to her thighs, she doubted even the most provisional search would miss that.

But it seemed she would get to keep her credits - clearly, no one cared what kind of people were entering the cantina.

It started to make more and more sense why Draven wanted her to watch Cassian's back in there.

'As soon as you're in, turn to the right and sit in one of the booths by the wall. Preferably the one in the corner, it will give you the best view. We're early, but I don't want to risk anyone seeing us walk in together,' he quietly instructed her as they walked through a dark corridor that ended with another set of doors. 'Any questions?'

Marla shook her head.

'Good. Go. I'll be right behind you.'

'Good luck,' she muttered, pushing her hands deep into her pockets and making sure the coat covered both her weapons.

If the exterior was far from being inviting, the interior was just... painful to experience. There was a thick layer of smoke and dust that hung in the air, making it difficult to see anything beyond a few metres. The walls were made of durasteel, with various marks and stains that showed the rough history of the establishment. And the smell... Maker, what was it?

No, probably better not to think about it.

As instructed, she chose the booth farthest to the right. Sitting down, she scanned the room and the people in it.

She counted twenty-three beings, including the band. Everyone looked suspicious, of course - but they were suspicious in a way that made them outside of her scope of interest. Sure, they were whispering something to one another, passing some small objects under the table - but that just meant they were too busy with their own illegal business to even notice Cassian and her.

'Welcome, miss. What can I get you today?'

Focused on scanning the room, she almost missed the tall waiter that appeared right next to her table. Not good. Cassian would have been disappointed with her lack of alertness.

'A beer, please.'

A shadow of annoyance ran through the waiter's face. 'Which one of the twenty different kinds of beer would you be interested in, miss?'

'The cheapest one?'

'Right. Of course. Coming right up.' She could have sworn she'd heard a quiet sigh of resignation as the waiter walked away. Or maybe it was the music. The band really had the most peculiar sound; it seemed they were fighting the instruments rather than playing them. Strangely, it only complemented the general atmosphere of the place.

Several minutes later, the waiter returned with her beer. She took a sip, and just as she began contemplating the terrible taste, the door to the cantina swung open, and Cassian walked in. With a certain level of relief, Marla saw that most people didn't seem to notice the newcomer - clearly, this was not one of the places where you could safely and openly pay attention to people.

Marla took another long sip of her beer and watched Cassian sit down at the bar and say something to the bartender. Moments later, he received a bottle of what she assumed was another one of the  twenty types of beer  they had in this place.

Clearly, he'd been here more than once or twice - there was warm familiarity behind the wide smile that the bartender was giving him as he started preparing another drink. Of course, that made sense; this wouldn't be the first time he was sent to meet with an informant. Still, Marla couldn't help but wonder what his usual visits here looked like - or, more precisely, if they involved any of the scantily-clad girls who were meandering slowly between the tables, clearly looking for their prey.

Not that it was any of her business, of course.

But still.

'The gentleman at the bar wanted to buy you a drink.'

She shifted her gaze onto the waiter and then back onto the bar, only to confirm there was exactly one gentleman sitting there at the moment. Cassian wasn't looking at her, instead carefully studying his own drink, but she could see a tiny smile forming on his lips as he took a long swig from his bottle.

'Oh. Erm. Thank you?' she said hesitantly, conscious of how hot the tips of her ears had turned. 'What is it?'

'This is our best Chandrilan whisky, the Hypernova Reserve,' the waiter recited. 'A rare and sought-after vintage, with a rich, smoky flavour and a smooth finish. It's distilled in the outer rim and aged for years in the finest Wroshyr barrels, giving it a unique taste that will satisfy even the most refined palate,' the waiter flashed a judgemental look at Marla and the bottle of cheap beer in front of her.

'Thank you,' she mumbled, praying for the man to leave her alone with her drinks.

Suddenly, the door opened with a swoosh, and a tall human male entered the cantina. He had rather pale skin and a neatly shaved head. He was probably around the same age as her or Cassian, maybe slightly older. He didn't seem armed, maybe apart from the knife she noticed flashing in his boot - but who here didn't have at least a knife? He would have been more suspicious if he had been entirely unarmed. Suspicious, or stupid - either wasn't an attribute of a good informant.

Because yes, by now she was sure - that was the man they were supposed to meet. Cassian must have sensed that too - he remained still and seemingly busy with his drink, but there was a muscle jumping in his tightly-clenched jaw that told her he was aware and ready to act.

Marla slowly placed her hands on her thighs, ready to reach for her blasters should the situation escalate - and then she waited, trying not to be too obvious about her intentions.

In the meantime, the man stopped maybe a couple of steps away from Cassian. It looked as if he was trying to decide something - he was squinting his eyes and drilling a hole in the back of Cassian's head. But he still didn't do anything that would qualify him as a potential danger. At least not yet.

Shit. Cassian would have instantly read the guy's intentions and known what to do. Meanwhile, here she was, her brain going back and forth between  'just shoot a hole through his head before he notices you'  and  'fuck, but what if it really isn't a trap?' .

And then the man said something, quietly, too quietly for Marla to hear - but clearly not too quietly for Cassian, who turned with an almost inhuman speed, pushed the barrel of his gun directly into the man's stomach - and then froze.

They stayed like that for a moment: Marla pointing her blaster at the stranger, with her finger ready on the trigger; the man staring at Cassian, the tiniest smirk on his face; and finally Cassian, staring back, just as intently, but with a new, strange look on his face. Or, more precisely, a sequence of looks: he started out focused, then opened his eyes a little wider, then let out a surprised breath, and finally - lowered his gun.

And then he gave the man the strongest, most sincere hug she'd ever seen him give.

*

The door closed with a thud, and soon enough, Cassian heard footsteps. He decided not to turn around so as not to betray his uneasiness, instead choosing to focus on the sounds. Heavy boots, fast and determined pace, clearly approaching in the direction of the bar.

But then the footsteps stopped somewhere between one and two metres behind Cassian, according to his assessment. For a moment, the person just stayed there, and Cassian's hand twitched towards his blaster - and then he heard the last thing he had been expecting to hear.

'Keef Girgo, I'll be damned.'

Shit.

His instincts took over - as if on autopilot, he turned his whole body around on the bar stool, his hand reaching for his blaster before his brain even fully registered what was happening. It took no more than two seconds, but he had managed to mentally go through the list of people who would know this alias, as well as try to estimate what the price on his head might be. If for some reason he wouldn't be able to fight the man, maybe he could bribe him...?

But the two seconds had passed, and he was now facing the opponent. He immediately noted a couple of details: he didn't see any blasters pointed at him, at least not in the nearest vicinity. He also didn't register any white armour or navy uniforms, another good sign.

And then he looked up, right into the familiar dark eyes he'd seen so many times and never expected to see again.

'Melshi.'

Yes, that was definitely him. There was something new, something purposeful and determined in his eyes - but these were the same eyes Cassian had seen every day for months whenever they were lining up in their cells to start their shifts, the same eyes that had followed him each time he took his break to work on the water pipes, and the same eyes that had carefully studied his face when he lied and said Maarva was fine.

'I thought I recognised that scruffy head.'

'And you decided to give me a heart attack?' Cassian murmured, lowering his blaster. Melshi shrugged, a shadow of a smile running through his face. 'It's good to see you.'

And he meant it... but not entirely. Yes, it was good knowing Melshi had made it, had not been captured or killed somewhere between Niamos and Coruscant - but Cassian had hoped he would have holed up somewhere far away, far out of the Imperial reach. Not right under the Emperor's nose, in the seediest of bars, clearly about to get himself into some trouble.

But then again, it seemed like those four years had been surprisingly kind to Melshi. In fact, he looked somehow younger than when Cassian had last seen him. Less troubled, less lost. There was a sense of purpose about him that deeply resonated with Cassian's own deepest sentiments.

'Good to see you, too, friend.' Melshi replied, and he clearly meant it, too - as evidenced by the warm smile (the kind Cassian had never seen before on his face) and a subsequent rib-breaking hug.

'What had you been up to?' Cassian motioned towards the empty chair beside him. In the seconds it took Melshi to sit down, Cassian quickly shot his eyes towards Marla - a very tense, very visibly confrontational Marla, who had both her blasters out and a look on her face that said she was confused but still ready to shoot - and gave her the smallest of nods.

'Same as you, clearly,' Melshi motioned at the bartender and pointed at one of the bottles on the wall. 'Is your bodyguard going to join us?'

Cassian huffed out a small snort, 'That obvious, huh?'

'You're not. She is. She looks like she's about to give me a one-way ticket to meet the Maker.'

'I'm fairly sure she's considering it,' Cassian snorted, giving Marla another nod and a smile that - in his head - was meant to be reassuring. 'So, you're a spy now?'

'Hardly,' Melshi replied with a smirk. 'Remember what we talked about on Niamos? How we should find a way to expose what the Empire had been doing?'

'People have to know ,' Cassian repeated. 'Any luck with that?'

'Well, not really,' Melshi averted his gaze for a moment, focusing instead on the collection of colourful bottles displayed on the wall behind the bar. 'I tried for some time, you know? Joined a small group that was working on hacking the official Imperial holosites. We managed to reach some people, but it all went to hell eventually,' he paused for a moment, nursing his drink. 'As most things do in the end. Speaking up doesn't do much when everyone around is too afraid to listen.'

Cassian nodded quietly, studying Melshi's expression. There it was again, that same shadow he'd seen on his face so many times before.

'Ever wondered what those things were, the stuff we made on Narkina?' Melshi resumed after a slight pause.

Cassian shrugged, looking away. Of course he did. But wondering did little good, and he had other things to think about.

'I did,' Melshi continued. 'And the more I thought about it, the less sense it made. So, after the holonet operation blew up, I started sniffing. Carefully, at first, because you know - being a convict on the run and all that... But then I did some digging and, what do you know, I had died in a tragic flooding incident four years ago. So did you, by the way,' he smirked again.

'That's-- quite convenient, actually.'

'It really is, isn't it? Seems like the Empire wasn't too happy admitting a bunch of thugs and losers closed the whole place down. You gotta love the Imperial penchant for hiding the inconvenient truth.'

Cassian waited in silence as Melshi tipped back another swig of his beer.

It made sense. And it also explained why Cassian never saw his face plastered on the streets with the words  wanted  underneath. In their arrogance, the Empire gave him a clean slate.

'Anyway, once I discovered that not only weren't they looking for us but also, they actively tried to hide any proof of our existence... I figured it gave me a perfect opportunity to sniff around some more. And that's what I did - I came here and found a job as a nightshift guard in the Imperial Archives. Not gonna lie, I almost backed out at the last second - but my fake identity ended up being worth every credit I paid for it,' He gave a faint smile before resuming. 'Long story short, there's good news and bad news. Bad news is, I still have zero clue what we were doing there, what all these parts were for... Good news, though: I managed to dig out a log of shipments out of Narkina from the time we were there. They were all going to the same place. And now I know where.'

A chill ran down Cassian's spine. This was indeed good - even if the intel was four years old, it still gave them a starting point, and maybe it could lead to discovering something important. But then, Narkina was stored in the part of his brain he rarely accessed, tucked away together with memories of all the other ghosts from his past. He wasn't sure he was ready to revisit any of them.

But of course, logically, he knew he should. Anything that could get them closer to winning this kriffing war.

'This,' Melshi continued, sliding a small data stick towards Cassian, 'has the coordinates and all the other details I have managed to get. Which isn't much - but it's more than nothing.'

Cassian grabbed the data stick and tucked it into one of his pockets. They sat there silently for a while, each seemingly deep in thought.

'Why?' Cassian finally broke the silence, his eyes still absentmindedly skimming the room. 'Why not just move somewhere to the Outer Rim where they would never find you?'

It took a moment before Melshi replied - and, once again, Cassian heard the same weight in his voice he knew so well from before.

'Was that really ever an option?' he said quietly, staring at the bottle he was holding. 'Would you be able to forget all that and just... accept it?' Cassian remained silent, studying Melshi's expression. 'I have to do something, Keef. Even if it means nothing in the grand scheme of things. If I don't, then what was the point of even trying to escape? What was the point of making it to the shore when so many others didn't? Kino. Ulaf. Veemoss. I have a debt to pay. Otherwise, it was all for nothing.'

Kino. Ulaf. Veemoss. Nemik. Maarva. Clem. Kerri. Over the years, Cassian had learnt not to think about the ghosts that had paved his path to the Rebellion. He knew that it was no use dwelling on the losses, that he had to focus on the present if he didn't want this list to grow - but he also knew it would eventually grow, inevitably, and each time he would have to learn to forget again.

His eyes unconsciously darted towards Marla, and for a couple of seconds, he allowed himself to watch her slowly sip her whisky. Would he ever have to forget this, too?

Would he be able?

'There's one more thing, Keef,' Melshi's voice brought Cassian back from his thoughts. 'I want to join. I've done what I could on my own... but it just doesn't feel enough, you know?'

He did. It never felt enough.

'We're flying back tomorrow,' Cassian said slowly. There was no point trying to dissuade Melshi from joining; he could see it in his eyes. He knew that spark. He saw it so many times in his own eyes and in the eyes of all those who shared their curse. 'And it's Cassian.'

Melshi's solemn expression lightened up momentarily as he gave Cassian a quizzical look. 'Really? You're telling me of all the aliases in the Galaxy you willingly chose Keef Girgo? Maker, and here I was wondering how much your parents must have hated you...'

'Mention this to anyone, and I'll make sure they put you on kitchen duty for the rest of your days,' Cassian grinned softly, finishing his drink in one long swig.

'Keef Girgo,' Melshi repeated, shaking his head in disbelief.

And it felt good to see him smile like this. Almost good enough for Cassian to allow himself to sit back, order a couple of more drinks, and to forget about why they were there and how they got there, and how many others didn't. Almost good enough to overlook the fact that what Melshi had just signed up for was effectively a death warrant.

Almost good enough to pretend they weren't all on a collision course towards unavoidable damnation.

*

One of the things Cassian appreciated the most about his friendship with Marla, as fucked up as it has been lately, was that she never tried to force anything out of him. She let him sulk in silence for as long as he wanted to, let him retreat into his dark hiding place and sit there for as long as he needed.

But she was always there when he did finally come out, waiting patiently, open to accept as little or as much explanation as he was ready to give. And, more and more often, knowing that made it just a tiny bit easier to return from even the darkest of places.

Stars, he really needed to make sure not to kriff this up.

They barely talked on their way to their lodgings. He needed time to figure out how he felt about what had happened; on the one hand, he was relieved to see Melshi and selfishly pleased to have him join them and fight together once again... but then, it was impossible to look at his face and not see all those other faces, the faces of the giants whose backs they were standing on.

And there was that one question, the one he tried to bury deep down and the one he was too afraid to ask Melshi: what about the others? He would have mentioned it if he had heard anything or met anyone else. And sure, the Galaxy was a huge place, but Cassian hadn't exactly been hiding. He'd have heard. Or Melshi would have heard, and he would have mentioned it. The silence confirmed what Cassian knew, but it stung nonetheless.

'We're here,' he rasped through the noise on the street, grabbing Marla by the sleeve of her (his) coat. Leading her carefully, he directed her toward the massive, weathered door marked by scorching burns and warning signs declaring the site as unsafe and scheduled for demolition.

He'd stayed there several times before. The Rebellion had a couple of these safe houses scattered around the biggest Imperial cities. The access codes were widely available, so if anyone ever got stranded in a city where counting on someone's hospitality would mean a death sentence for the host, they could still find a relatively safe place to hide and have some shut-eye.

'Cute,' she commented, looking at the sign. 'Can't wait to see the inside.'

'It's... well, it's better than you might expect based on the outside. But also worse than you were probably hoping for.'

'Is it worse than that junkyard on Bracca?'

Cassian let out a quiet snort. 'I don't think anything is.'

'Then we'll be fine,' she said with a lightness in her voice that made him believe, even if only for a short moment, that they indeed would be fine.

The hydraulic door opened with a swoosh, and he entered confidently. Half a step behind him, Marla followed suit, but not without looking around in the most obviously suspicious way she could.

'This really does the opposite of what you're trying to achieve,' he murmured as they walked up the dark staircase. 'No one does that unless they have something to hide.'

'But then I won't know if someone is following me,' she protested.

'You will, because people who blend in rarely get followed. Looking around like a skittish tooka doesn't make you blend in. It draws a target on your back.'

'Fine. Whatever,' Marla pouted, and he had to fight hard not to let out a sincere chuckle at her solemn expression.

They stopped in front of another set of doors - these ones without warning signs but with a terminal that looked definitely inactive. That is, until Cassian popped open a small panel at the bottom of the mechanism and connected the two wires that he knew would jumpstart the mechanism for long enough for him to enter the code.

'After you.'

Marla crossed the threshold hesitantly, stepping into the darkness of the flat. Cassian followed right behind, navigating the place based on his memory (and hoping no one had rearranged the furniture since he'd last stayed there). After a moment, he located the small lamps that were scattered throughout the flat and started turning them on one by one.

'I think I liked it more when it was pitch black,' Marla confessed with a raised eyebrow.

'I'm... sorry?' he shrugged, unsure how to react.

'Kidding. Look, there are actual beds. I didn't expect this much.'

'And there's a combination shower in the refresher. And the nanowave works, too. Usually.'

'Nice!' She threw herself at one of the beds with a surprising level of enthusiasm. 'You go first.'

'Go where?'

'Shower. You stink of smoke and spice. This place has way too little airflow for me to be able to ignore it.'

'Hey, you were there too. You stink exactly the same.'

'Go.' She pushed him into the refresher and closed the door behind him. 'Just don't use up all the hot water.'

The bathroom was small and utilitarian, with grey tiles covering the walls and floor. The shower stood in the corner of the room, a sleek and futuristic-looking device that emitted a soft blue light. Cassian stepped into the circular enclosure, and the door slid shut behind him with a hiss.

A pleasant warmth enveloped him as he turned on the water, and he closed his eyes, letting the soothing sensation wash over him. The sonic vibrations of the water slowly pulsated against his skin, washing off the distinct smell of the cantina and all the other scents he'd managed to pick up on their way here.

Shame no shower could dissolve the memories that were clinging to his brain just like the smoke and grime to his skin.

After a few minutes, Cassian stepped out of the shower and wrapped himself in a towel he found under the sink, trying hard not to think about how many other people had used it before him. He briefly considered getting dressed back in the clothes he'd had on before, but he changed his mind as soon as the smell of smoke attacked his nostrils again when he bent over to pick up his shirt.

The first thing he registered upon opening the bathroom door was the cold gust of air that violently attacked his damp skin, making him shiver. But then he picked up another set of sensations that made him forget about the cold.

'I think I'd be less surprised if I came out and saw a Wookiee playing a game of dejarik with a porg.'

Marla was standing by the counter of the tiny kitchenette, with different containers set out around her, a knife in her hand, and an aura of infinite frustration emanating across the room.

'You know that thing that you sometimes do when you're trying to be funny? Yeah, don't. You're really bad at it.' Cassian snorted in reply, which earned him a quick glimpse away from the unidentified piece of meat she was torturing with a dull knife - only to have her immediately avert her gaze with a look of poorly concealed panic that he found infinitely endearing. 'Maker, get dressed, will you?'

'Didn't know you cooked,' he threw, trying very hard to keep his tone neutral and not betray the amusement that flooded him at the sight of her suddenly nervous movements.

'I don't. But I'm hungry. And really fucking tired of the rations,' she barked grumpily. Cassian had to turn around pretending to look for his clothes to hide the grin forming on his face.

'Where did you get all this stuff?'

'Stole it,' she shrugged. 'From that shop on the other side of the street from the cantina. While you were taking your time saying goodbye to your buddy.'

'And how did you know there'd be a kitchen in here?'

'I read it in those boring-ass files you had sent me. Maker, can you stop interrogating me?'

'I'm just... surprised, that's all. Both with... this,' he gestured towards the kitchen, 'as well as the fact you've actually read the dossier. Are you sure you're all right?'

'Are you sure you want to be making fun of me while I'm holding a knife?' She turned around with a grimace that was probably supposed to look threatening. Which probably would have worked had she not caught him in the middle of buttoning up his shirt, which had her eyes briefly trailing down before she visibly remembered about being grumpy and defiant.

'Let me help you with that,' he offered, throwing the damp towel onto his bed and crossing the room to stand beside her.

He had to give it to her; she definitely was trying. The whole counter was littered with scraps, and there was a large pot on the stove with various vegetables and some mystery meat he was afraid to ask about. It looked... it looked like an honest attempt.

Without a word, he reached for the wooden spoon in Marla's hand, his fingers gently brushing against hers as he took over the stirring.

'Did you...' he started slowly, cautious to find the right words so as not to offend her, 'did you manage to find the spices?'

His only reply was the quiet bubbling coming from the pot.

It was funny, the way she could get so nervous about such little things. He'd seen her fighting against impossible odds, seen her manoeuvring the ship the way no sane person would ever even consider, and she'd never even blink an eye. And yet, there she was, defeated by a stew, and so self-conscious about it that Cassian wanted to drop the stupid spoon and just hug her until she forgot all about it.

Of course, he knew it would most likely earn him a bruise.

'It's okay,' he said, making sure to sound as neutral as possible. 'Second drawer from the top. I think I left some stuff last time I was here.'

'Here. I don't know...'

'It's okay,' he repeated before he could stop himself, and immediately felt like stabbing himself with that dull wooden spoon he was holding. Instead, he took the small sachet from her hands and added a good amount of its content to the pot. 'Okay, now it has to simmer for a while. You should have enough time for a shower.'

'Are you saying I stink?'

'I don't know. I couldn't tell over the delicious aroma of your cooking.'

'Are you being-- you know what, I don't care. Make sure not to burn it,' she shot him a warning look before walking away towards the refresher. He could swear he also heard her mumble the word 'asshole'.

The sound of his own quiet chuckle surprised him. He had expected to spend the evening writing the mission report and trying to suppress that growing feeling of grief that had been slowly creeping into his head since talking with Melshi.

Instead, he found himself stirring a pot of what would surely end up being the worst stew he'd ever eaten, grinning like an idiot. And it felt like the simplest and most natural thing in the world.

Looking back into the recent past, he was surprised to discover it wasn't too difficult to find memories of other moments similar to this one. Like when his arm was injured and hurt like hell, but all he could focus on was Marla's flustered smile as she helped him dress the wound. Or like when they were pinned down in that droid factory, and he had to stop himself from kissing her because she looked so beautiful with that passionate spark in her eye. Or like when he woke up to her staring at him with that confusingly elusive look on her face, only to watch her sneak out when she thought he was still asleep.

He looked at the closed refresher door and shook his head, a sudden shadow of sadness eclipsing his thoughts.

It felt so good, but deep down, he knew it wasn't right. This wasn't his purpose, he wasn't supposed to feel these things; he was supposed to be a spark and an unstoppable force for good, that was his prophecy, his gift and his undoing. It sounded so good coming from Maarva, but what that really meant was that he was doomed to steal, lie and kill, so that one day people like Marla could wake up and find that the darkness had finally been banished.

And maybe Marla could finally find peace in that new world; maybe she would be there to watch the last of shadows cower and crawl away; maybe one day she could even dust off the ashen remnants of his sacrifice and forget about the war, the way she deserved to.

But that wasn't very likely, was it? People like them had an expiry date.

The steady patter of water coming from the refresher stopped abruptly, and Cassian's eyes were once again drawn in that direction.

They were here, though. Alive, relatively well, and about to share a meal. And however doomed they were, whatever sacrifice they would have to make, they would at least always have this. And it wasn't half bad, Cassian decided.

It was much more than he had ever expected. And definitely more than he thought he deserved.

*

A/N:

For the LOTR fans that are familiar with the director's cut: you can imagine the rest of the evening went something like this. I started writing this scene, realised where it was going, and I just couldn't help myself. It had to be a stew. I'm sure they have stews in a galaxy far, far away.

PS I'm sorry for that fluff/angst rollercoaster at the end. Well, maybe I'm not. Or maybe just a little bit.

PPS I may or may not have a draft of a Melshi fic that talks about what happened between Narkina V and joining the Rebellion. But that's gonna take a while, my brain is incapable of focusing on more than one story at a time ;)