#yeah it's only a matter of time before tumblr sinks this ship

[justagalwhowrites]

Beskar Doll - Ch. 29: Homecoming

You arrive on Tatooine and learn more about the quarry - and your past. A continuation of Beskar Doll ch. 1-28 found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: The Mandalorian/Din Djarin x Female Reader

Warnings: Smut :D No use of Y/N. Minors DNI 18+ only

Length: 6.3k

“Mando!” A small woman with curly brown hair was waiting for you at the bottom of the ramp when you exited the Razor Crest. “Starting to wonder when I’d see your… well, not face, around here again!” 

She shooed away the droids who were starting to swarm the ship. 

“C’mon you guys, you know the drill!” She said. “No droids on the Razor Crest!” 

You glanced up at the Mandalorian, hoping for some indication of who this woman was, the kid tight in your arms. There was a sinking knot in your stomach. What if she was one of his “women who were interested.” You chewed the inside of your cheek. It didn’t matter. Shouldn’t matter. It’s not like the man had made you any promises. He didn’t owe you anything. You owed him, in fact. She noticed you there, then. 

“And you brought a friend!” She looked you up and down. “That’s a first.” 

“Peli, this is Essa,” Mando looked at you. “We’re working together.” 

“Remember what happened the last time you tried to take on an aspiring bounty hunter?” She asked. “You really want to do that again, do ya?” 

“This is… different,” Din muttered. 

“What happened last time?” You frowned up at him.

“I’ll explain later,” he began but Peli cut him off. 

“He got betrayed, me and the kid got captured and he almost blew up my shop getting us out!” 

“I didn’t… it was a flash grenade.” 

“He tell you he just left the kid on the ship?” She asked. 

“You did what!” You demanded, rounding on him. He sighed and flexed his fingers. 

“Doll…” 

“Doll?” Peli looked between the two of you. “Oh ho! This is different, huh? Yeah I bet it’s different…” 

“Maker…” Din sighed. 

“I owe him,” you said, trying to save him some embarrassment. And whatever his relationship with this woman might be. “And we’re here on business.” 

“Business that you could help with, Peli,” Mando said. 

“Well, you know the deal, Mando,” she said. “But I’ll give you a discount if I get to hold the womp rat.” 

She reached for the kid who reached back. You glanced at the Mandalorian who just gave you a nod and you handed the baby to her. He chattered away happily and she smiled, looking at him with pure adoration. You couldn’t help but smile yourself. Even if he wasn’t a Jedi, he would be special. 

“Sure, yeah, tell me all about it,” Peli said, turning and heading out of the hanger. Before you had a chance to ask Mando what next, she turned back. “Well? Ya comin’?” 

Mando put his hand on your lower back and you glanced up at him, confused, but obediently followed Peli, the Mandalorian at your side. 

Din was hyper alert as you left the hanger and into the city. You hadn’t spent much time in Mos Eisley but it felt familiar from your time on Tatooine. Same grime and disrepair, same criminal undercurrent, same buzzing jumble of lifeforms. He kept his hand on your back, fingers splayed wide against you, as Peli led you to a bar not far from the hanger. 

“Usual for me,” she called to the bartender as she sat down at a table, setting the kid on top of it. “Broth for the kid and…” she looked you over for a second. “Gardulla for Mando’s friend. He’s paying.” 

You stifled a laugh as the kid toddled across the table to you. You looked to Mando to say something when you felt it. A flash of feeling from the child - pride, happiness and excitement - but you weren’t looking at him. You quickly turned to find his eyes but he was too busy watching your hands that you’d offered as guides for him across the table. The feeling left.

“That’s new,” you said softly. 

“What?” Mando asked. 

“Tell you later,” you said, not looking at him, eyes on the kid. 

“So Mando,” Peli said. “What brings you out our way?” 

“Know anything about the Hakki Syndicate?” He asked. “Supposedly a gang that operates here. Not sure what they traffic in or where, but our quarry is embedded with them.” 

“Oh Mando, you know how to pick ‘em,” she said as the bartender brought everything to the table. The mug she put in front of you was bigger than you would have ordered, especially for something you didn’t know. Peli watched you for a moment, so you picked it up and had a sip. It was strong enough that it made you wince for a moment but a sip seemed to satisfy Peli, and she went on. “They mostly deal in weapons - lots of thermal detonators and the like. They’re still pretty new but they’re big, gaining people all the time.” 

You took another drink. You were starting to think you were going to need it. 

“Where can we find them.” Din asked without asking. Good to know he did that with people who weren’t you. Maybe he only did it with women he’d fucked. The knot appeared in your stomach again. You took a bigger, longer drink. Maybe you did need a mug this size.

“Not sure,” she shrugged. “Heard they’re in Beggar’s Canyon in one of the cave systems up that way, but who knows.” 

“When did they move in?” You asked, frowning. 

“Not long ago,” she shrugged. “Think I first heard of ‘em two years back or so?” 

You nodded slowly. You’d lived not too far from Beggar’s Canyon, never heard of the Hakki Syndicate. Another big drink.

“Your quarry better be worth all that trouble, Mando,” she shook her head. “Maybe you should leave our little green friend with me…” 

“No,” he said, tone oddly blunt, even for him. 

“What!” She said. “I promise I’ll give him back! You can’t just leave him in the ship, Mando…” 

“Between Essa and I, we can watch him on hunts,” he said. 

“We should go by my old house,” you said without really thinking about it. It kind of surprised you, blinking for a second, head light. Mando looked down at you. You tried to salvage it. “If it’s still uninhabited, could work as a good base of operations. It’s near Beggar’s Canyon.” 

“Didn’t know you were a local girl!” Peli looked you up and down again. “Don’t seem like you’re from Tatooine…” 

“Left a few years back,” you said, drinking more.

“Could work,” Mando shrugged. “Assuming you don’t have ulterior motives…” 

“Don’t know what you mean,” you fidgeted with the mug. 

“We’re here for a quarry, Doll, not…” 

“I know why we’re here,” you didn’t look at him but you felt his eyes on you. 

“Doll again, eh?” Peli asked, smirking. “So how long’s this been goin’ on?”

“It’s not…” Din began but you cut him off. 

“He started calling me Doll as a way to get under my skin,” you stuck your chin out defiantly. “What was it the first time, Mando? You called me Doll because dolls are ‘decorative, useless things that sit in pretty dresses and take up space?’” 

He paused until you looked up at him. 

“Yes.” 

You nodded once, satisfied, and looked back to Peli. 

“That was a while ago,” you shrugged, taking another long drink of whatever it was that Peli had ordered you. 

The baby cooed, his ears drooping so you looked at him. His eyes met yours. He was worried. You gave him a smile and held out your finger to him to hold. He took it, but it didn’t seem to ease his feelings much. 

“Do you have a speeder we can use?” Mando asked, turning his attention back to Peli. 

“For a price,” she smirked. “But it’s the best one in Mos Eisley, won’t find a faster speeder that’s safe and stable. Worked on it myself, Mando, rebuilt it with minimal droid labor…” 

You downed the rest of the mug and had to sit all the way back in the booth. Your head spun. 

You’d been drunk plenty of times before in your life but nothing quite like this. You felt oddly loose, you’d only had the one drink but your mind just kind of drifted, not able to really latch onto any one thing. Your head slipped to Mando’s shoulder. 

“What did you order her.” He sounded irritated. 

“You’re way harder to read than the kid is,” you looked up at him. “You know that? It’s very frustrating, he’s an open book and you’re…” You gestured vaguely in his direction. “I get nothing from you, absolutely nothing. Exhausting.” 

“Gardulla,” Peli laughed. “Famous for loosening the mind. Want to find out if your protégée is going to betray you like the last one did? Now’s your shot, Mando!” 

You scoffed. 

“Not going to get shit out of me,” your head dropped back to the Mandalorian’s shoulder. It was cool, comfortable. You liked it there. “I was trained to withstand Imperial torture droids, you think a little booze is going to get a secret out of me? Guess again.” 

“I’m not worried about her betraying me,” Din growled, hands clenched into fists on the table top. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t drug my associates without my knowledge…” 

“Just trying to look out for my buddy,” Peli said. “You’ve got a little one to look after, can’t just be trusting people you pick up just anywhere.” 

“You’re comfortable,” you glanced up at him. He sighed. “What? I thought you should know, wasn’t sure if I’d ever told you that. Probably why I fall asleep on you so much. Does that bother you? I should have asked sooner if it bothered you…” 

“It doesn’t bother me,” he growled. You frowned. 

“Sounds like it bothers you.” 

He sighed. Peli and the kid laughed. 

“You said Imperial torture droids,” Peli turned her attention to you. “Now why’d you need that kind of training?” 

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” you snorted. Din sighed again. 

“I’m getting her back to the ship before you try to talk her into doing something stupid,” he growled. “Watch the kid. I’ll be back.” 

He looped an arm behind you and got you out of the booth, keeping an arm around you as he guided you out of the cantina and back toward the hanger. 

“I really don’t need you to walk me back, you know,” you protested. 

“You’re not going back on your own,” he said. “And apparently Peli can’t be trusted to behave…” 

“I could have kept quiet while you did your thing,” you said, trying to squirm out of his grasp. He didn’t let you. “You don’t have to worry about me telling her about what you and I get up to when we’re alone, it’s fine, I can keep my mouth shut. I’m actually very good at that.” 

“Why would I care if she knew about that, Doll.” He turned you in toward the hanger, the Razor Crest sitting right where you’d left it. 

“Because. I don’t want to fuck up whatever other…” you searched for the right word. “Arrangements you have. I know my place, I’ll stay in it. I’m a vault, Mando, ask me anything and I won’t tell you.” 

“What other arrangements?” He lowered the ramp. “What the hell are you talking about?” 

“Vault,” you replied. He sighed, guiding you up the ramp. He led you to his bed and set you down on it. 

“Stay here,” he said, handing you a data pad. “Read or something. Don’t touch anything and for fuck’s sake don’t leave the ship.” 

“Did you know that I like you way more than I should?” You held the data pad to your chest, like armor. He cocked his head at you. 

“What do you mean.” 

“I mean,” you mimicked his tone. He sighed. “That when I’ve paid you back and you’re tired of hauling me around, it’s really going to hurt when you leave me wherever it is you’re leaving me. I need to figure this out by then. Still do it, by the way, I’m not saying don’t do it. I’m just saying that I like you too much for it.” 

He looked at you for a moment. 

“I have to go,” he said eventually. 

“Have fun with Peli. She seems interested,” you said, tone a little bitter. He sighed. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he looked you up and down. “We’ll discuss it once… whatever that was is out of your system. Stay. Put.” 

“Stay. Put.” You mocked him, moving your head dramatically. He just sighed and left, closing the door behind him. 

You passed out at some point, waking up to the Mandalorian opening the door, light flooding in. 

“Ow,” you groaned, covering your eyes with your hand. 

“Feeling better?” 

“Mostly,” you muttered. “What the fuck was that? I had one drink…” 

“Wasn’t your fault,” he said. “Peli got you something famous for its ‘mind loosening’ qualities.”

“What did I say?” Your eyes were wide, scrambling to remember something - anything - between sitting down at the cantina table and when you woke up back on the ship. 

“You insisted you were vault,” Din said. “Don’t worry, we didn’t get anything out of you.”  

“Thank the maker for that,” you sighed. He was watching you, you could feel his eyes lingering on you, his helmet slightly cocked. You weren’t sure why. You shifted awkwardly. “Know enough about where we’re headed?” 

“Peli arranged a meeting for us with a contact in Mos Espa,” he said. “She felt bad enough about you that she didn’t even charge me for it. Will Mos Espa cause any problems for you?” 

“That is where I beat a man to death but it’s been a few years,” you said wryly. “Also where you picked me up the first time.” 

“I remember.” 

You wondered what he’d thought of you the first time he saw you. It was hard to believe how you felt about him now when you remembered your first impression of him - that he wasn’t to be trusted, that he was dangerous, all but Imperial. And now… 

Now you really needed to figure out how to not be so attached to him. This was going to end badly. 

“You said you’d tell me something later,” he said after a moment. “I’m not sure what you remember from before you started drinking…” 

It took you a second to remember. 

“The kid!” You said, standing up - a bit too quickly. You stumbled and Din caught you. You kept moving past him, looking for the child. “It was so strange, I’ve always needed to make eye contact with him to feel anything from him, but today there was a moment where I felt it when I wasn’t even looking in his direction… where is he?” 

“You’re sure it was him?” He asked, following behind you. 

“It felt exactly like every other time it had happened,” you replied. “I’m sure. Where…” 

You closed your eyes and relaxed for a second, trying to see if you could feel him again, get an idea of where he was. There was a flash of it - something intense - but you were able to locate it. 

“What…” Din began. You ignored him, following where the feeling had come from. The kid was in his pod near the gate of the Crest, asleep. His little mouth was twitching. He was dreaming. 

“Yeah, that’s new,” you said softly, looking down at him. 

“It happened again.” 

You nodded, still watching the child. 

“I think I need to seek it out if it’s not a strong enough feeling,” you said. “But he’ll throw it at me if he feels strongly enough about it. And I can feel where he is when it happens.” 

“That’s…” Din paused. 

“Yeah,” you said eventually, looking up at him. “What does this mean?” 

“We need to find a Jedi,” he sighed. “He must be getting stronger and I don’t know how to help him.” 

You nodded, looking back at the sleeping baby. 

“We get through these quarries,” you said. The thought of him struggling to understand his power, navigating the mystery of what he was alone made your chest ache. “Then we find a Jedi. There has to be at least one left. I still have some connections, some favors I can call in. Someone has to know a Jedi somewhere.” 

You gathered what you’d need to hunt and left the ship, Peli promising to make droid-free repairs on the Razor Crest while you were gone on her speeder. 

It was a tight fit - supplies and the kid’s pod strapped to the back, the three of you on the seat - and you were relieved it wasn’t you driving the damn thing. Din got on first and you climbed on behind him, tucking the kid between your bodies. 

“Patu,” he looked up at you. He was confused. 

“New way of travel, buddy,” you smiled down at him and stroked his little head. “I’ll keep you safe, don’t worry.” 

It seemed to satisfy him. You pulled yourself as close to Din as you could get, your body curving around the kid’s as you put your arms around the Mandalorian’s broad body as far as you could reach. 

“Bring that kid back in one piece, Mando!” Peli shook a wrench at him. “I mean it!” 

Din just sighed but gave her a nod before taking the speeder out town and into the desert. 

***

It took a few hours to reach Mos Espa but Din didn’t want to move the Razor Crest. He trusted Peli to do good work. And likely overcharge him for it. But he was willing to pay a bit more to have work he could rely on. And he didn’t mind the trip. 

You were wrapped tightly around him, hanging onto him like your life depended on it. Which, at the speed you were traveling, it did. But he liked you clutching him close, your warm body pressed against his, your legs around him. There was part of him - no small part - that thrived on you needing him, on feeling it this way. Yes, you were strong and you were powerful and, as he raced with you across the desert, you were counting on him to keep you safe. There was an intimacy to it he soaked up, that you were willing to rely on him at all. 

“I like you way more than I should.” That’s what you’d told him when in your Gardulla-addled state. You’d seemed to have forgotten it - and he knew you well enough to know that you wouldn’t tell him a damn thing about it now. But he almost liked that you felt that way. He didn’t fully understand it. But you liked being around him. You didn’t want to leave. You’d said as much. He smiled a bit behind the helmet. 

The cantina in Mos Espa was quiet, only a handful of patrons. Din scanned the room, eyes briefly stopping on the table you’d been at when he first saw you. He’d already made your father for the man he was looking for, but you’d made him, too. Recognized him as a threat and positioned yourself to intervene. It had seemed foolish to him, at the time, but he knew now that he’d underestimated you. It was enough that he was sure that you’d have bested at least his first strike if he’d tried to attack. If you were smart, that would be enough to at least get your father out alive - undoubtably your goal. You’d been small and soft and beautiful - to the point that he’d all but resented you immediately. But he’d been too taken with you to say no. Even from the beginning, part of him had seen you for what you were. 

A man in the corner made eye contact and gave him a stiff nod and Din made his way to the table. 

“Mando,” he said in greeting. “Peli said you’d be by. Looking for local information?” 

“The Hakki Syndicate,” Mando said, taking a seat across from him. You sat down beside him, the kid on your lap. “Heard they operate out of Beggar’s Canyon.” 

“Aye,” the man nodded. “What about them?” 

“Any more precise a location than that?” You asked. “Beggar’s Canyon is a big place.” 

“Specifics will cost you,” he said, looking you up and down. Din’s jaw clenched. 

“We can negotiate a price when you know the information we want and can guarantee it,” you said, keeping a tight hold on the child. His little fingers were wrapped around one of your hands. 

“Why do you need it?” He asked. 

“Guild business,” Din said. 

“We need better location information,” you said. “The cave systems there are too jumbled and not all connected. Going in blind will take too long.” 

“And when they find out I gave you the information?” He asked. 

“They won’t.” Din’s voice had a finality to it that made the man swallow, hard. 

“500 credits,” he said. 

“200,” Din countered. 

“450.” 

“225.” 

“300,” the man was watching you, his eyes shifty. Din pulled out the credits and put them on the table. The man quickly pocketed them. 

“There are four or so entrances at the north end of the canyon,” he said. “I’m not sure which one they use, but they’re by a Krayt dragon skeleton. They’ll be in there. But these guys… they’re dangerous.” 

“How dangerous?” You asked. 

“They moved in a few years back,” he said. “Got in good with the Hutts by taking care of some of their old business, wiped a few whole families off the map. Now they won’t step in, let them do damn near whatever they want as long as they don’t eat into Hutt business.” 

Din felt you stiffen beside him. 

“Know anything about the Barktan family?” You asked. Din heard the strain in your voice. 

“Moisture farmers up that way?” He asked. You nodded. “Yeah, took them out. I just don’t want it to be mine next.” 

“It won’t be,” you said, your voice cold, jaw tight. 

Din thanked the man for the information and guided you from the cantina, your grip still tight on the child who looked at him with concern. 

“Doll,” he said quietly. 

“I’m killing them,” you said. It was like you were looking through him, past him. As though you couldn’t focus on anything right in front of you. “Anyone who was involved, anyone who hurt them. I’m going to kill them.” 

He put a hand on your shoulder, hoping to ground you. He wasn’t sure that it made a difference. 

“Let’s go, Doll.” 

You gave him coordinates to your home when you lived here and you wrapped around him again, body taught and tense against his. The baby cooed. 

It seemed that no one had been in your home since your parents’ deaths. The sand had piled up outside the front door and gathered on the farming equipment. You looked at the small, domed house, the stark white of it standing in contrast to the orange of the sand, a dune rising in the distance. 

You stepped off the bike without really looking, holding the child to your chest, clinging to him, and walked slowly toward the front door. It was almost like you were in a trance, totally unaware of anything else around you. You brushed a panel clear of sand and entered a code and the door opened, the sand spilling inside as it did. You ignored it, walking in. Din followed. 

You didn’t make it far in the door before you dropped to your knees, arms tight around the child, a strangled sob ripping from your throat. Din realized what you were looking at. For a second, it looked like a scene from any home, just one the family had stepped away from. The table was set, ready for a meal. It was as though the occupants had gone to answer the door for an unexpected guest.

But there were small things wrong with it. One of the chairs was unnaturally askew. A cup lay on its side. And there was a splatter of red on the counter. 

“Doll,” he said gently. He knelt beside you, his hands on your shoulders. 

“I should have been here,” you wouldn’t look at him. “It should have been me.” 

“That isn’t what they would have wanted.” 

“It doesn’t fucking matter what they wanted,” you bit out. “It was me they were after, me who pissed them off. I was the only reason we were even on this fucking planet to begin with. It was me that should have died, not them.” 

“They’d prefer this, Doll,” he said gently. A tear slipped down your cheek, eyes still on the table. “They wanted you to live.” 

“I should have been better,” you were trembling. “I should have found a way to stay, found a way to fix it, found a way to have never had to come here to begin with. I fucked it up, Din, I broke it all and they died…” 

He just held onto you, feeling you fall to pieces in his arms and not able to do a damn thing about it. You kept a firm grip on the child who kept giving you soft coos but couldn’t do much else. Din wasn’t sure what changed, but he felt something in you shift. You tilted your head up toward the ceiling, your eyes closed, lips pressed together in a thin line. You forced a deep, shaky breath before looking at the table again. You’d stopped shaking, your body rigid. 

“I’m going to find them,” you sounded numb. “I’m going to hurt them.” 

“We should go,” he said, but you pulled yourself from his grip. 

“This is a good base of operations,” your voice was still empty. “We aren’t going to go sit in the desert because I can’t handle myself.” 

“Doll…” 

“It’s fine.” 

You got up, still holding the child, and went deeper into the house. Din followed closely behind you, ready to catch you if some other horror was waiting for you there. But there was nothing else out of place, your parents’ room dusty but untouched, as was your own. 

“We’ll start in the morning,” Din said. “It’s too late to start hunting today.” 

“Are you saying that because you don’t trust me to behave?” You asked. 

“We’re losing daylight,” he nodded to the window. “Tomorrow, Doll.” 

Din left you sitting on your bed and brought in everything from the speeder, pausing for a moment in the kitchen to get a closer look. There had obviously been a scuffle, but he doubted your parents had died here. There wasn’t enough blood for that. They’d likely been dragged out, their bodies possibly in the sand outside. He didn’t have a good way to check for that so he had no way to protect you from it. He sighed. He should never had agreed to come here, should never have let you talk him into taking the Tatooine job in the first place. He had a bad feeling about this. A bad feeling about the whole damn thing. 

The three of you stayed sequestered in your old room, silently agreeing to not venture into the rest of the house. Din was fine with that. It felt like a tomb. 

“Here,” he pulled a cuff out of a pack and handed it to you after you’d both silently eaten a ration on the floor of your room. You frowned, taking it. “It’s a control for the kid’s pod. You can move him with it. Call him to you, just adjust where he is, send him to me, seal him in. It also has a com link to the pod and to me.” 

“Thanks,” you said, looking at the kid - who was starting to look drowsy as he played with the toy you’d picked for him on Nevarro. You smiled a little at him. It was a sight Din was relieved to see. “And thank you for trusting me to keep him safe.” 

“I know you will,” he said. “I’d trust you with just about anything, Doll.” 

“Just about?” You asked, brows raised. 

“If you had a better sense of self preservation, I’d say I trust you with anything,” he said. You scoffed a bit. He wasn’t sure if you knew he was being serious. He didn’t ask. 

When the kid fell asleep, you put him in the pod and closed it before reaching a hand out for the Mandalorian. He took it and you pulled him to his feet, looking him firmly in the eye as you stepped close to him. You watched as you slowly unstrapped the armor from his chest, like you were waiting for him to tell you to stop. He didn’t. 

You dropped his beskar to the ground piece by piece before you unzipped the flight suit and fell to your knees in front of him, your eyes still on his. You freed is now hard cock, running your hands up and down his shaft. 

“Doll,” he managed, his hand going to your arm and trying to tug you up his body. 

“Let me do this,” you breathed before you took him in your mouth. He groaned and the feel of you, the sight of you there in front of him. 

You started slow, your mouth hot and wet and soft, your tongue pressing against the bottom of his head as you worked your lips further and further down his shaft, moving your hand up and down as you took more and more of him into you. He fought to not grab you and pull you down his length, desperate to be buried inside you. 

“Doll,” he gritted his teeth. “We shouldn’t…” 

You took all of him in your mouth then, the head of him driving into your throat as you looked up at him. Your eyes were soft and pleading and wide and you moaned, your mouth and throat gripping him. You sucked him harder, your tongue pressing against him. Your hands slid up his legs to his hips, using your grip to leverage yourself up and down his erection. 

He tried to focus, tried to make himself step back from you. You were hurting and this wouldn’t help you. But your mouth…. Fuck, your mouth. You were so fucking soft and warm, working him over like you were starving for him. Getting lost in you was easy and his hand drifted to your head, fingers twisting in your hair. 

You moaned, the sound muffled and dirty around his cock in your mouth, the sound of your pleasure making your throat tremble around his head. 

He gave up resisting you completely, his head going back, guiding your mouth up and down his cock, a strangled groan slipping from his lips. You sucked him harder, moving with his hand as one of your own slipped down your body to cup your clit, pressing into yourself through your pants. You taking him in your mouth, watching him, you so turned on that it made you need to touch yourself pushed him over the edge, barely able to hold himself back enough to warn you that he was about to cum when he pulled your lips flush with his base and filled your throat, rope after rope of him emptying into you. You swallowed it all, moaning as you did, working yourself over harder as you did. 

He went slack, barely able to stay standing, when you pulled back from him, wiping your mouth and getting to your feet. 

“Doll,” he cupped your cheek and you pressed your face into his palm, eyes closed. 

“I think we need to make up for lost time,” you whispered, putting your hands on his chest and gently pushing him backwards until he nearly fell onto your bed. You stepped back from him, pulling your shirt over your head and leaving it on the floor. You pulled your bandeau top off next, exposing your breasts. 

“Whatever you’re feeling right now,” he began, but you cut him off. 

“I don’t want to feel it,” you unbuttoned your pants and slid them and your underwear down your body, leaving you bare. “I want to feel you.” 

You stepped forward, surrounding his legs with your own. Your hands went to his chest, running over his skin.

“Are you going to deny me?” You asked, voice soft, eyes pleading. He didn’t say anything. You lowered yourself onto his lap, gripping his cock and working your hand up and down. He groaned, already getting hard again. He’d just had you and he was already longing for more of you. 

“Don’t want to deny you anything,” he managed through gritted teeth. Your hand increased its pace. 

“Then don’t,” you whispered, his cock firm in your hand again. Your eyes found his below his helmet and you lifted your hips just enough to notch him against your entrance. You lowered yourself onto him, gentle and steady, eyes closed in pleasure as your body opened for him. 

“Fuck, Cyare,” his hands went to your hips, guiding you further down his body. You sat tall atop him, back arching into him as his head fell to your chest, panting for breath. “So fucking tight, so good at taking me, fucking belong inside you…” 

You groaned, moving over him, slow but hard at first before increasing your pace. Your pussy gripped him as you did, like you were trying to hold him deep inside you, desperate to keep him from leaving. His hands were still gloved and he wanted to feel more your skin but he couldn’t bring himself to pull away from you enough to do it, settling instead for pulling your stomach against his chest that was exposed through the open flight suit. You ground your hips on his, working your clit against his body as he felt you tighten further around him. His hands slid down your body to your hips, pulling you tighter against him, your moan barely able to slip through your lips. 

“It’s alright, Cyare,” he looked up at you, gripping you tighter. Your eyes met his, desperate and lost. It made his heart ache. “I have you. Let go. I have you, you’re safe, just let go…” 

You tightened and stilled around him for a moment before you throbbed around him, a choking, longing cry ripping from your chest. He could feel it leave you as his hands slid up your back almost to your shoulders, clutching you close as you came apart around him. As you caught your breath, he moved to lift you from him but you threw your arms around his neck, clinging to him. 

“Not yet,” your voice was thick and wet. “Please, don’t leave me yet…” 

“Trust me to take care of you?” He asked softly, leaning back from you to look in your eyes. You were crying. You nodded quickly. He pulled off his gloves, casting them aside before sliding his flight suit down his arms, leaving his skin bare. “I have you, Cyare.” 

He held himself inside you as he shifted you so you were below him, pressing himself as far inside you as he could reach. You stretched over him, your velvet heat exquisitely soft around his cock. He ranged his hands over your body, your skin silk below his fingers, before one held your face and the other slipped below your ribs to pull you flush against him. You were gasping for breath, body curving into his own, pliant, bending to his motions. You wrapped around him and it was like you were everything, you were everywhere. All the things that made life worth a damn was wrapped up in you and how it felt to be inside of you. 

“Din,” you sounded strained, overwrought. He held you closer. “I…” 

Your voice broke, fingers digging into his bare flesh. 

“Cyare,” he managed, moving harder and faster within you. 

“I…” you gasped and adjusted your grip on him, your lips pressing into his shoulder. 

“Yes Cyare?” He clung to you. “Tell me anything, ask for anything, I’ll give you anything…” 

“I need to feel you cum inside me,” you were begging, pleading. “Please, I feel… fuck I’m so full but I feel so empty, I need…” 

“Cum for me one more time, Cyare,” he whispered. Your body was tight around him. “You’re already close, give into it and I’ll give in to you…” 

You nodded into him, pressing your lips to his throat and he adjusted himself so more of him was pressing against your clit, making you shudder and gasp. It didn’t take long from that angle for you to cry out, your orgasm taking hold as your body throbbed around him once again. 

It was all he needed to press almost impossibly deep into you, his tip pressed flush against your back wall, and empty himself into you. You let out a gasping sob and all but collapsed below him, arms still limply over him. He gently lay you all the way on the bed, still pressed deep inside of you. He searched your face, your eyes still overwhelmed. One of your hands went to his helmet, tracing the contours of the metal before holding him over you. 

“How do I fix it?” You asked, breathless, voice cracking. He pressed his forehead to yours, his body covering yours in the dark. “They’re gone, I can’t bring them back, how do I fix it? What do I do now?” 

“You live, Cyare,” he held your gaze. “You live.” 

[terriblydrawnbooks]

Hey guys- I’m aware a lot of people are jumping ship from Tumblr at the moment, but never fret! I’m now on Twitter too @ https://twitter.com/BooksDrawn 

Feel free to hit me with some sweet sweet requests to christen the new page! 

[hcmoeroticisms]

.

[ynscrazylife]

Lost, Found, Repeat

Request: “Can I please request a angsty Star Wars rey / platonic sisterly reader where it’s set in like the sequels 1&2 and basically rey left r behind when she joined the resistance and the next time they meet, R has been recruited by kylo and yeah :)”

Summary: When Rey discovers that Y/N — someone who’s like a sister to her — has been manipulated by Kylo Ren, she becomes determined to save her.

Request to be on a taglist (or multiple) here! (Taglists are at the end of the fic)

Main Masterlist | Star Wars Masterlist

PSA: Do NOT copy, steal, translate, plagiarize, republish, etc any of my works on Tumblr or any other platform. Also, do NOT claim any of my works as your own. All of these works are either requests I’ve gotten that people have wanted me to write or original ideas I’ve had for works. If you happen to take inspiration from anything I’ve written and want to write something inspired by that, please a) ask me first and b) IF I say yes, credit me as inspo in your post by tagging me and link whatever work of mine that inspired you. Thanks.

header c @/natashowlet

Lost

She had tried her best.

But no matter how many times she tells herself that, it never mattered until Rey told her it.

Her parents had told her that from a young age she was Force-sensitive, being children of dead Jedi themselves, they could tell. The eve of it, she had had a horrible nightmare, flashes of her parents screaming and people she couldn’t quite make out marching through her house.

Their eyes widened when she told them the next morning, but they hid it quite well, telling her that they needed her to go to the market. When Y/N was gone, her parents readied their ship, but never got it ready in time. For the people in Y/N’s dream came, followers of Snoke, the rising Emperor. They trashed the place, demanding information from Y/N’s parents. Y/N’s older brother had once been trained by Luke Skywalker, and they demanded any information her parents could give on him.

Of course, they said nothing, and when Y/N returned to see her parents in the Sith’s captivity, they screamed at her to run. Her hesitation gave the Sith the advantage, but Y/N could run quick. Her parents continued to scream instructions about the ship, and the last she saw of them before disappearing into the ship was them being taken away by the Sith. They had no use for a teenager, after-all.

Found

The last thing Rey expected from a half-crashed, half-landed ship was for crying teenager, only a couple years younger than she, to emerge. The woman froze. Who was she? Why was she here? No one willingly came to Jakku, but perhaps that was where the “half-crashed” part came in.

There was something about the kid that Rey couldn’t shake. After-all, she couldn’t turn around and ignore her, now could she? That was heartless . . . And although Rey was a survivor, she still had a desire to life. She’d be slapping life in the face if she turned Y/N away.

Repeat

Lost

Something felt wrong. Although, if you’re living on Jakku, something always felt wrong. But as Y/N returned to the local market, that feeling grew and grew until it reached the height of familiarity, and that made her nauseous.

There had been some sort of fight, that much was clear. Sith were crawling around, yelling at the poor people. Destroyed ship parts were everywhere, things were knocked over, and people were in disarray. As Y/N looked around, she realized that Rey was notably absent.

“Has anyone seen Rey?” She called to the people around her, turning away from the Sith. She couldn’t look at them. Couldn’t let those memories nor those feelings in. Not again.

One man stepped forward. “She ran off with a boy and a droid. Told me something but ah, it was too loud. I dunno what it was,” he said.

A sinking feeling hit Y/N. Rey left her?

Found

“So, you are the one in Rey’s memories.”

Accompanying that deep voice was a hand pinching her wrist, fingers clamping down. Y/N slowly set her drink back down on the bar’s table. She was no stranger to strangers, but the mention of Rey, a name she had not heard in a long time, made her wary. 

“What do you know of Rey or her memories?” Y/N hissed, turning to her “companion”. He was taller than she, a long hood hiding his face.

The man let out a long laugh that sent chills down her spine. With his free hand he reached out and, before Y/N knew it, she was under his spell.

“You will come with me and you will let me turn you to the dark side,” he said, waving his hand.

Y/N blinked. Something in her feel different. The events that led up to this were fuzzy, and she felt safe with this strange man. “I will come with you and I will let you turn me to the dark side,” she repeated, in a deep trance.

Repeat

Lost

In the months that she accompanied Kylo Ren, Y/N was never herself. She had been watered down to merely a product of what she was told to be. Subjected to intense brainwashing and Force mind-control, Y/N’s bitterness against Rey was influenced by the Sith, and so was she.

She didn’t know who she was. All she knew was that everyday she did was she was told. And it was made so that was enough. Until it wasn’t.

Found

“Get out.”

“Ooh, you sensed that quicker than you did the last.”

Turning around, Rey scowled at Kylo through their Force bond. She raised her hand to try and use her training from Leia to make it go away, but suddenly it was all thrown off balance.

In Kylo’s quarters, Y/N had just burst in. “I’m so sorry, sir, but General—Rey?” Her eyes widened as she looked up to see the woman clear as day.

Rey’s jaw dropped. “Y-Y/N? What are you-what are you doing with him?” She asked. She had always hoped her message to Y/N had been delivered, but when Y/N wasn’t on Jakku, she had been lost.

Before Y/N could conjure up an answer, Kylo interrupted. He whipped around, stalking towards her like a predator would its prey. “She wasn’t supposed to see you yet! You stupid—”

With that, their Force bond connection was cut. Rey stood in the forest alone as she processed this, and then took off in a run. Some of the Resistance members were planning to sneak onto Kylo’s ship soon, and Rey wanted to join.

• • • • •

From her hidden spot, Rey could tell that the Resistance fighters had members of the First Order surrounded. The Resistance wanted to get as much done as they could interrogation-wise and information-wise before Kylo found out, but the First Order wouldn’t go down without a fight. Rey was itching to get away and go find Y/N, but actually didn’t have to go far.

“You think you’ve won? Ren’s second-in-command has been alerted. Meaning he has been alerted, too,” one of the troopers spat.

Just then, someone rounded the corner. Y/N.

“You have one minute to release my troops and leave quietly before I alert Ren,” she ordered.

“What are you doing?” A trooper hissed.

“Shh,” she commanded.

The fact that she hadn’t told him yet brought a small smile to Rey’s face. There was unresting conflict deep within Y/N, threatening to turn its battles into a war. Rey slowly rose.

“Y/N,” Rey said, catching everyone’s attention. “Come with us, sister. I’ve missed you. Kylo is controlling you. You can be free of him.”

Y/N hesitated and then scoffed, her hand reaching for her blaster. “A liar always lies.”

Despite the pain that hit her, Rey stood confidently. She couldn’t afford to waver now. Y/N couldn’t afford it. “I know my words will do little to sway you, so use the Force to see it. I was forced to leave you, we were chased. I told a man to tell you that I’d be back as soon as possible, but when I returned, you weren’t there. I have missed you ever since. And Kylo, he’s done nothing but hurt you. You know that.”

Y/N stared at her, the tension around them building. Tears started to bubble up in her eyes, and she quickly closed them, reaching out to the Force. The only constant in her life.

A couple seconds later, she opened them, eyes wide. Rey was telling the truth. With a sob, Y/N ran for her sister, and they hugged deeply. Firmly. Lovingly. Carefully. As if the other was glass and could shatter into thin air any second.

A peace settled into Y/N. Like all the times she had felt found before, but bigger. Permanent.

The cycle had been broken. She was found.

Permanent Taglist: @natasharomanoffismywife @hehehehannahthings @paulawand @blackbat2020 @cerberus-spectre @kathryndimitrescu @snipyloulou @big-galaxy-chaos @cc13723things  @passionswift @drayshadow @amaryllis23 @storysimp @lamieshelmy @fantqsha @galacticstxrdust @a-lil-bit-nuts @marvel-to-infinity @maryseesthings @lovelyy-moonlight @dumb-fawkin-bitch​ @thewidowsghost​ @cowboybabyy​

[kitausuret]

Do you have spidervenom cuddle headcanon? (Pleasure Aftermath or just in general) Cause I’m a sucker for it

I don't have a whole lot of coherent thoughts about this so I'm just going to throw words at the wall like wet spaghetti and see what sticks! 🎉

But no in all seriousness, yes I do! Peter is a character who absolutely evolved into someone who is very touch-oriented in displaying affection. (I can't take total credit for this realization, traincat and softgrungeprophet have done some really good posts about it that made me go.. 🤔💡) This is just kind of a general headcanon for me when it comes to him but I think just as it applies for him in other relationships, so it would apply here too. It's something that just comes naturally to him.

I shamelessly nicked these from TC, please check out her Twitter or Tumblr for the literal best Peter takes ever, but the chin touch is really good:

Now, onto Eddie, who I think is a little more complicated... I feel it would take time for him to get to a point where he's comfortable being touched a lot by another human being. Kind of like a horse, where you should make sure they see you before you put your hand on them. At first he probably has to be the one to initiate physical contact. Given his history of being touched by another human being not going uh... well for him (looking at the repeated times he's been literally experimented on) it might be a long journey for them. And it'll probably have to be small touches at first - taking his hand, maybe a hand on his arm, before gradually moving into more. Peter pressing himself up against Eddie on the couch, hugs, an arm around his shoulder or waist, all that good stuff.

But I think eventually, like everyone else who's ever fallen in love with the insufferable, endearing asshole who is Peter Parker, he'll warm up to it. He'll start to see that is part of Peter's love language. I have a lot of feelings about Eddie learning to trust other humans touching him in general so. ;w; Yeah.

Haha everybody suffer, I present to you the one and only handholding scene:

Aaaaanyways, THAT angst fest aside, let me move onto the third part of this glorious ship!

Of course I can't leave out the symbiote, the original piece of this ship that binds them together. It feels a little obvious but the symbiote is of course very touch-oriented. In a weird way, its physical affection with Peter probably has to come gradually, the way Peter's does with Eddie. Depending on when this ship is starting out in their lives, I think will depend on how slowly they need to adjust towards each other. But similarly, Peter has hurt the symbiote! So maybe they need to learn to trust each other again (or perhaps, for the first time) before they can move forward with each other.

I have a little snippet that actually calls back to a scene where Peter was washing the "alien costume", so I'll share that with you here. For a little context, Peter is currently the symbiote's host, as part of a somewhat complicated arrangement:

Eddie continued to stroke it as Peter turned on the taps for the bathroom sink, then plugging it. It was only then that he realized Peter also had a bottle of mild soap. “What are you doing?” “Uh, laundry?” Eddie frowned a little, his grip tightening on the symbiote.  “I’m kidding, Eddie. But I figure I keep sweating, symbiote or no, and I can’t be webbing up purse snatchers and robbers in an un-laundered suit.” He paused with his hands on the taps. “Un...bathed?” He finally turned them off and added some soap to the water, sudsing it up with his hands.  “It’s not dirty, Peter,” he said, a little defensively, “it expels dirt and particulate matter naturally, and-” “It didn’t complain when I did that for weeks after Battleworld!” “You thought it was a smart-technology piece of clothing!” “Just be grateful I didn’t take it to the laundromat! And, for the record, I take very good care of my suits. Do you have any idea how much time I put into them? How much red thread I have to go through? The cost of the fabric if it gets ruined or faded?” Peter gently coaxed the symbiote into the water, working his hands into its malleable flesh, meticulous as he rubbed it into the warm water. It was maybe just a hair above room temperature, given the symbiote’s dislike of heat. It slipped away from his hands with a pleased little shiver, surrendering to Peter's tender loving care. 

So yeah, that's that! I guess I kind of focused more on the idea of touch in general vs. actually answering your question jdksal' but I think that before full-on cuddling they would have some work to do. Love that for them though. <3

[janghoefett]

Bedside Manner (Din Djarin x Reader)

You and Din get stuck on an ice planet and he offers to keep you warm, so you cuddle and then you accidentally give him a boner and then you admit your feelings for each other????????

Rating: Mature (18+) Words: 1.2k Pairing: F/M (Originally posted on AO3 - I’m new to Tumblr btw, lmk if there’s anything I’m missing on this post and feel free to say hi!)

“We’ll have to wait till there’s light. We’ll freeze if we try right now,” says the Mandalorian upon examining the damage to the Razor Crest. The gash in the side has left the hull exposed to the elements of this ice planet. A biting chill blows through the metal ship as the warmth quickly disappears.

“Are you sure we can fix it?” you ask, teeth chattering. “We don’t even have power.”

“The Crest has seen worse,” he says calmly. “We can probably patch her up enough to get to the nearest post, but we might as well try to get comfortable for the next few hours.”

You grab a thick blanket and settle against the wall, across from Din who does the same.

“You gonna be okay?” he asks after a moment.

“Yeah,” you breathe, unconfident in your response, trying to wrap yourself thoroughly. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” he returns with a slight nod of his helmet.

————————————————————————

You don’t know if you ever truly fell asleep. You lie there for as long as you can, for what seems like hours, trying your hardest to remain unconscious. The cold is torturous, leaving you shivering and numb in your hands and feet. 

A rustling startles your eyes open. 

“I can see the cold on your skin, girl.”

You find the Mandalorian is kneeling at your side. You’re quiet, trying to collect yourself, as you sit up straight. “My body is the warmest thing on this ship,” he continues. “Would you like me to lie down with you?”

Perhaps your brain had slowed down, or perhaps it was the shock of the proposal coming from Din Djarin; either way you think you misheard. “Wh.. what?”

“We need to get you warmed up. Let me do this for you,” he insists. “I’d hate to see you lose any toes.”

You smile softly at the Mandalorian’s bedside manner. “You—you’re going to take off your armor?” you stammer.

“Yes,” says Din, as he helps you to your feet. “And my suit. You should take off what you are comfortable with as well. We’ll lock ourselves in the sleeping compartment, I’ll bundle us up together and… we’ll be warm.”

You nod in agreement. The Mandalorian moves to collect the couple of blankets he has, spreading them out on his cot. You’re frozen as the Mandalorian removes his beskar. He places it carefully in the net above the cot before unfastening his heavy suit.

You strip down to your undergarments with caution, wildly aware of being nearly nude in the presence of the man you were painfully in love with. But he doesn’t gawk or say anything. Instead he turns away respectfully, wearing only his helmet and a pair of plain boxers, and climbs into bed.

Your body shudders at the intense chill.

“Come. Come quickly,” Din says, offering a hand. You join him eagerly, laying down at his side under the covers. Din closes the compartment door.

“I’m going to take off my helmet. Can I trust you to close your eyes for a moment?” he asks.

“Of course.” 

Butterflies flood your stomach, unsure of what was to come. But you don’t question it and close your eyes.

“Open.”

His voice is crystal clear... so human. You open your eyes to find yourselves submersed in pitch darkness, with the Mandalorian closer to you than ever before.

“Put your back into my chest,” says Din. You lean back into him tentatively. He’s warm. Surely he wasn’t only warm in comparison to your frozen skin… no, he had that kind of radiating heat that comes from within. You shudder as you sink into him, relieving the chill in your spine.

“There you go, that’s it, mesh’la,” he soothes. The hairs on the back of your neck stand up at the sensation of his breath on your ear. Built arms wrap around you, settling your head on his bicep, as his warm hands grip your icy ones.

“You can warm your feet against my legs,” he continues, aware that you were too timid to ask for anything beyond what’s offered. “It’s okay.” Your feet brush along his shins tentatively. Hair scratches against your soft skin and his knees come into the backs of yours, entwining your legs.

Though you continue to shiver slightly, the relief is great. 

“Is that better?” he asks.

“Yeah. You’re so warm,” you sigh. “Thank you…”

Din’s thumb begins tracing a small circle around the back of your hand. “I couldn’t let my girl go cold on me,” he says softly.

My girl.

You could lie here in his arms forever. You knew the Mandalorian was gentle in nature, but this was such a beautiful gesture, done with such care.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were so cold?” he asks.

“I don’t know, I thought I would be fine,” you answer, embarrassed. “I didn’t want to bother you either.”

“You’re not a bother to me, cyar’ika.”

You smile softly, intrigued by the nickname, as you close your eyes to sleep.

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

A few minutes pass. 

“You’re shaking again,” Din says in your ear.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know why I’m still so cold,” you respond, turning around to burrow your face into his chest.

“Do you trust me?”

“Yes...” you breathe.

“Then I’m going to try something else.”

The Mandalorian rolls you on your back and moves with you, pressing nearly his full weight on you. You understand why; you were absolutely sealed in his warmth.

“Oh, Din,” you sigh in relief, sneaking your arms around the contours of his back. He holds you tightly.

“You’re like ice, sweet girl. Wrap your legs around me.” 

You do so, nearly whimpering at the satisfaction of being completely enveloped by the Mandalorian.

How many times had you yearned for this closeness? Your hand comes up to his cheek without thinking; you freeze, fearing you had done something wrong. But his face leans into it, turning to a place quick kiss into the flesh of your palm under your thumb. “You’re going to be okay,” he whispers.

Din nestles in and relaxes his body. Your face warms against his neck and the sensation of your combined breathing lulls you into a calm. As you settle in, your legs adjust around his. Your foot moves up his leg slightly, arching your back to adjust, and your hand moves to rest around his back and keep him close. Contently, you throw your head back against the pillow.

“I— I, uh… sorry,” Din grumbles a few seconds later, lifting his head up.

“What?” You shift slightly, confused, and— 

Oh. That got him stiff.

Thankful for the darkness, your jaw drops and your cheeks flush at the feeling. “Din, I understand, it’s really okay,” you’re quick to say.

“It’s just that—”

You shush him, in need of no explanation, and steady his face with your hands. “It’s okay!” you laugh quietly. “It’s okay.” The embarrassed heat retreats from his face. “Are you sure you’re comfortable like this?”

“Yes,” he laughs softly.

A dead silence fills the air. “Din?”

“Hm?”

“You’re the kindest man I have ever met.”

Din sighs, bringing his hand up to cup the side of your face. He doesn’t say anything for a moment and runs his thumb over your soft skin. “You don’t know the things I’ve done, sweet girl.”

You shake your head. “It doesn’t matter to me... I love you.”

Warm lips press against yours gently in darkness.

“Do you know how much I have always loved you, cyar’ika?”

[criticofallthings]

SO IT’S 5:12AM BECAUSE I’VE BEEN TYPING AWAY A NEW HEADCANNON PIECE OF CRACK IDEA THAT WOULDN’T LET ME SLEEP IF I DIDN’T. edit: bc tumblr mobile app is dumb I had to restart in a web browser and it is now 6:03 AM.

Anyway yeah so that Hawkmokn lore tab where we see Guardian lad and Crow get drunk and be merry (brain’s a little scramble rn, but I’m preeetty sure its the Hawkmoon lore tab)?? Yeah so that and trauma bonding / healing bc if I haven’t said it a thousand times and then sme yet, Imma say it again: POOR TRAUMATIZED GUARDIANS OMFG 😭😭😭

No title no beta bc literally just shat this out the past couple of hours:

cw/tw: ptsd, referenced major character death, death, implied depression/major grief, self depreciation

ps. usually I write nonbinary Guardian, but today we got lady she/her Guardian

pps. this fic is a heckin chonker compared to the previous ones

———————————————————————

Crow’s lips were gentle against the Guardian’s own, a bit dry, but sweet and heady with the lingering wine. The kiss was sudden. It was spontaneous. And it made something warm and so soft and so, so very fragile, hatch within the Guardian’s chest.

Until she opened her eyes and saw those golden eyes, glowly softly in the dark, beneath dusky white and raven black fringe. The pale smokey blue of his skin, luminous where it reflected the warmth of the campfire, and cast in deep shadows where the night’s darkness fought to shade his face. The smell of ash suddenly weighs much heavier in the air.

That warm, soft, and fragile thing in the Guardian’s chest goes cold and sharp and hard. Time slows and speeds up at the same time within her mind, stealing her away to a prison of memories. Blood rushes to her ears, drowning out the warning from Ghost to Crow and Glint.

The Guardian shoved Crow away and stood up, a heavy handcannon with a white spade on the stock materializing into her hand, aimed at Crow’s heart. An errant blip of data-Light to Crow’s left is all that hints at Glint’s swift dematerialization. Crow stays prone on the ground, spawled on his back, one hand raised up, in an attempt to pacify —unwittingly making it harder for the Guardian to snap out of that memory.

The stench of burnt oil, sweat, and soot fills her nose. She only hears the crackles of flames and electric buzzing as her heart pounds, coldly staring into Crow’s bewildered eyes. Those deep golden eyes that had haunted her waking hours and chased her down in nightmares. Those eyes filled with cruelty as they watched her stumble to Cayde’s dying side. She doesn’t realize yet, but the tears she couldn’t shed before, now weep from her eyes. The handcannon trembles slightly in her grip.

Ghost floats over into his Guardian’s field of view. He’s careful to let her know he’s doing so by giving her shoulder a bump as he glides to a rest above the stock of the handcannon. He hovers there, his one eye searching both of hers, glow dimmed slightly. His shell gives a soft whirl before he speaks, leaning in gently towards her.

“That is not him.”

The silence is deafening, every second only increasing the tension. Ghost clicks his shell, uncertain if his words were even heard. He tries again, bobbing in the air.

“Crow is not him.”

The handcannon trembles. But the Warlock doesn’t move, bound by so much tension you’d think she was a Hunter about to leap into the air to throw a Blade Barrage.

“Crow is not him.”

Ghost speaks again, insistent, shell whirling softly as he flits closer to his Guardian. A flicker of recognition crosses her face. The handcannon falters, no longer aimed directly at Crow’s chest. Ghost nudges her hand, bumping the Guardian’s aim to the ground.

She trembles, a full body shudder and the handcannon slips from her grasp. Suddenly she’s aware, all too aware of what happened, and the tension holding her still dissipates. She falls to her knees, energy completely spent.

“I, I-I’m so sorry.” She’s barely able to whisper the words in his direction.

Before her, Crow watches, eyes wide and doe-like, shocked and unsure of what to do. Of what just happened. A sinking feeling blooms in his gut.

He knows he wasn’t a good man before he died. Plenty of guardians had made that clear through their boot heels and fists, gunfire and knives, with their Light in three different energies: arc, void, and solar.  As did the Eliksni, who cursed him in their language while their Captains tore him apart with their four arms.

Crow knows it’s an understatement to say he wasn’t a good man in his previous life. Even if he could never learn about who that man was, what he did, and would only by the number of shattered bones and bruised flesh just how much pain that man had caused —Crow decided early on that he could take it. It was penance. It was justly due and therefore he couldn’t call it painful.

But this? This hurt.

It hurt because now he knows that the man he once was had struck an incomprehensible blow to the Guardian he had come to know more of. It hurt because he had been holding on to a small hope, an indescribably small bit of hope, that of all the people he had encountered in his previous life that he had never met the Guardian. Because if they had never met, then maybe, maybe there was someone he didn’t hurt. His first friend. His savoir. His now not-so-secret-crush. And the longer he thought about it, the greater that sinking feeling in his gut grew.

He could no longer deny the shock and subdued anger and almost very well hidden grief he had seen flash across her face when he revealed himself to her and Osiris. He could no longer deny the way they had kept him at distance while easily in sight with a hand hovering over their gun every time they met him for a Hunt or to study a newly sprouted Cryptolith. Why his attempts at humor and jokes were met with cool silence. Why whenever he saw that handcannon, he instinctively recoiled away from it, phantom pain bursting sharply in his heart.

——————

Crow remembers the first time he saw the Guardian wield that gun. How she had effortlessly cleared a pack of thrall in one clip, each headshot exploding in a flurry of solar. How his body reacted: legs collapsing beneath him, his heart burning painfully, lungs gasping for air that never seemed to make it into him, retching pathetically, as tears streamed down his face.

Why was he crying?

Why did he feel an insurmountable wall of sorrow and regret?

She had seen him fall and before the last thrall had burnt away completely, she came running towards him. All he could see in that moment was that gun getting closer and all he felt was an innate desire to get away.

Run, run, run, run, run before you die!

Run you before you burn!

The Guardian came close, hands splayed before her, voice speaking in soothing tones, words lost upon his panicking ears. He had screamed then, in abject terror. It was a garbled and pitched sound as he tried to breathe and vomit and scrabble away all at the same time; his eyes riveted to the handcannon now holstered at her side. Her Warlock mind, keen to details, quickly realized what had triggered his panic and she deftly threw the gun to her Ghost who transmatted it away mid-air.

Crow doesn’t remember what the Guardian said to him, but he remembers how carefully she reached out to him. How she framed his face in her gauntleted hands, so gentle, so lightly, as if he might shatter into glass —just to touch her forehead to his. How the puffs of her outward breaths ghosting by his cheeks helped calm his own.

And he knew then, in that moment that no matter what that gun meant that he was already in too deep. When with a simple touch, the Guardian could soothe away old terrors he himself knew nothing of, Crow knew then. He loves her.

——————

Crow slowly got to his feet, mindful of the Guardian (who was despondently staring into her open hands while Ghost hovered on her shoulder). He looks at that gun, chest starting to burn, heartbeat increasing. Clenching a fist at his side, Crow takes a tentative step and then another until he’s close enough to pick up the handcannon. He gingerly picks it up by the barrel, keeping his hands off the stock on purpose. It’s another small step towards the Guardian before he kneels in front of them.

He pauses there, unsure of what he can do —of what he did that caused the Guardian to react so violently before. He doesn’t think it was the kiss itself...that seemed to be fine until she looked at his face, into his eyes. Ah. Crow rests the handcannon on his thigh and pulls up his hood, jerking it to cover more of his face. Cautiously he grabs the handcannon by the barrel again and with his other hand, slowly reaches for one of the Guardian’s own. She lets him guide her hand to the handcannon and once he’s sure she won’t drop it, Crow gently pushes both towards her again. The Guardian looks away, but cradles the handcannon in her lap.

More hesitantly now, Crow raises his hands to cup her face just as she once did for him. He can’t exactly see with his hood covering so much of his face, but he slowly gets nearer and carefully moves his hands over the side of her face. He leans forward to rest his forehead against hers, the edges of his hood brushing across his nose as he did so, fully obscuring his vision. Crow doesn’t know of anything he could say in this moment —what could he of all people say to her, Guardian of guardians, that could possibly make a difference? So he doesn’t say anything. Instead, Crow softly hums.

It’s an old melody, a lullaby he found while exploring abandoned freighters and passenger ships in the Reef. When Glint discovered his fondness for it, the Little Light would often hum the tune, sitting on his chest, to soothe him on several sleepless nights in Spider’s Lair. Crow hopes that this at least, can help ground the Guardian in the present and away from the painful memories in her past.

They stay like this for a while. The Guardian’s breath evens out and somewhere along the time past, Ghost had dematerialized. It was just the two of them now. Crow stops humming when he feels the Guardian raise a hand to cover one of his over her face. She leans into his palm, then forward against his forehead for a moment.

“I’m sorry, Crow, I’m so sor—“ She starts to apologize and it’s a whisper until she says his name to apologize once more. Crow doesn’t want to hear this, he doesn’t deserve an apology. So Crow cuts off the Guardian by dropping his hands to her sides and pulling her into his chest.

The sudden movement sends the Guardian toppling onto Crow. He curls forward to protect his head, but keeps his arms around her, falling flat on his back. The Guardian doesn’t move to get off of him and Crow takes that as an okay sign. He keeps one arm around her, the other he moves to card his fingers through her hair.

“Of all the people in this world, Guardian, I am the last of anyone to whom you owe an apology.” Crow let’s his words hang in the air, trying to keep his breathing even so his heart would stay less frantic too.

“If anything,” he pauses to admire a particularly silky strand of hair as it slips through his fingers.

“I am the one indebited to you.”

There’s another pause as he sorts his next words before speaking. His hand idly resumes carding through the Guardian's hair again.

“So much so that I wonder if it’s selfish greed that makes me want to stay like this.” Crow sighs, looking straight up into the star speckled sky above them. At this angle he can’t see the Guardian, but he feel her shift slightly in his arms.

“Even though you’ve done so much for a worthless stain of a being as me…Even though I can never atone for the things I’ve done befo—“ He’s interrupted by the Guardian slapping a hand over his mouth.

“You are not him.” She shifts in his arms, sitting up, moving a leg over to straddle him properly.

Crow grabs his fallen hood in a panic, pulling the fabric so swiftly up around his face he hears the fabric creak as its seams struggle to stay sewn. Still, he doesn’t let the material go, trying to keep his face hidden.

“You are not him.” The Guardian repeats herself, lifting her hand from his mouth. Crow can’t tell with what emotion she said it with and he’s too afraid to check just yet. He doesn’t want to cause her harm again, regardless of how circumstantially accidental it was.

“Crow…”

He freezes at the way she calls his name. It was different from how she usually said it. It sounded soft and so warm in her voice. The Guardian prods at one of hands clamped on his hood. He turns his head to the side, trying to escape beneath a look he could practically feel brushing against his hands.

“I...I-I don’t want to hurt you...again.” Crow’s heart beats skittishly within his chest, causing a lump to form in his throat. He’s barely able to say these words out loud without an audible whimper to them. He tries to speak again, but fails.

The Guardian leans forward over him and a shifting moment later he feels her tap her forehead against his. Her hands rest, half-covering his own, but exerting no force to push of pry his fingers away from his hood.

“Crow.” She whispers his name, just as soft and warm as before. Her lips ghost across his clenched hands when she spoke, sending goosebumps down his arms. Crow tenses.

It’s a full body reaction as Crow completely freezes up. Once more he tries to swallow down the lump in his throat with little success. His tongue feels dry and too heavy in his mouth. He can feel his heart rate spike, beating so hard now he’s unsure if the metaphorical ache that had been nesting there is becoming a real one.

“Please, Crow?” The Guardian pleads softly, leaning back and letting her hands slide from his face to over his chest.

“You can’t hide your handsome face forever.” She tries to make it sound light hearted, an easy joke, but the anxious tapping of her finger against his chest reveals her anxiety. Crow takes a deep, shaky inhale, holding it a second before letting it out.

“I-I can’t.” Crow sputters, the breath he had taken just before speaking seemed too little for all the things he wanted to say. Did she really just call his face handsome right now? Oh Traveler, why was that now all he could focus on??

He feels the Guardian shift in his lap again. The movement snaps Crow out of his thoughts and inadvertently he tightens his grip on his hood again. Somewhere behind his head, a seam in the hood gives way and the fabric tears from the stress.

A small chuckle near his ear catches him off guard and Crow isn’t able to stop his head from jerking sideways. This gives the Guardian an advantage and she presses against him, letting her head rest side by side to his. It keeps him unable to turn his face again. Even still, Crow maintains his hold over his ruined hood.

“Well then...” The Guardian pauses. Her voice, low and smooth, is right next to Crow’s ear. Crow flinches slightly, swallowing rapidly again, not expecting her to be so close.

“...how am I supposed to kiss you back?”

“Huuh??”

Crow lets out a confused sound, brain derailing instantly, but also cutting some of the tension out of his body. Certainly, he must have heard the Guardian wrong. But the sound of two ghosts  re-materializing interrupts the Guardian (who Crow is now very aware is straddling him) from speaking as she suddenly freezes.

“OH. Oh! Oh...well uh, w-we’ll come back later!! N-n-not too soon, ofcou—” Ghost’s shocked rambling is halted by metallic clinking as Glint’s shell collides with his. In the background, Glint’s hurried whispers of “Just go! Just go!” are just barely audible before the two Little Lights decompile once more.

Above him, the Guardian lets out a heavy breath once the two ghosts are gone. Beneath his hands, Crow breaks into a brief smile at that. The brief interruption had brought a measure of calm to him and he didn’t want to waste the moment.

“I, well...the man I was did something pretty horrible to you, didn’t I?” Crow lets the question hang in the air, but pushes on. If he lets the Guardian speak now, he’s not sure he’ll ever be able to say these words again.

“Not just you, to all the guardians...the Vanguard, and even the Eliksni, maybe even to the Scorn.” The Guardian is still above him, listening, but against his chest Crow can feel the heavy, measured beating of her heart.

“A-and I know. I just know. That that handcannon --the one with the white spade— I know that man died to that gun...This body remembers, but I also think it’s much more than that.” Crow stops to take a shuddering breath in. He focuses on the steady feeling of the Guardian’s heart against his chest to center himself.

“When I see that gun...it’s like I can feel that final shot burning again and again. But then there’s so much more to it. So much pain that isn’t from that bullet, so much grief, and fear, and even anger. Anger at myself, knowing I —all I did was —all I caused was…” He trails off, not able to find the words to describe how those moments felt. When he speaks again, it’s all in whispers.

“But when I see you, I know it’s not right, I know it’s selfish, I know you didn’t even like me at the beginning….but when I see you, I know I’ll be okay. Because the Light gave me a second chance to be okay and you did the same.”

Crow stops when he feels the Guardian shifting again. She grabs him by his elbows and slides off of his lap, tugging on him to join her in a sitting position. His knees are now tucked under his chin and he can feel her legs framing his own. It’s silent for a moment, but then he feels her edge closer to plant a chaste kiss to the back of his hands.

“It was an accident, a trick of the light and shadow…I—you are not like him in many, many ways.” For a moment Crow’s heart plummeted to his gut, wrenching at her first few words. Her hands cover his own again and Crow’s heart grows light.

“Please. Look at me.” The Guardian asks Crow while gently pressing against his knuckles. She rubs her thumbs over the side and backs of his hands, small soothing gestures.

Crow clenches his jaw, then decides against it. He releases his hold on his cloak’s hood, fingers stiff and aching from how tightly he had clung to the material. Crow doesn’t let the hood fall from his face and keeps his eyes shut. The Guardian takes his hands into her own, warming and massaging them to ease the stiffness.

Once she deems his hands warm enough, the Guardian lets them go. Crow rests them at his side, not confident yet to open his eyes. He focuses on the way the air moves instead, trying to anticipate her next move so he doesn’t jump.

Slowly, the Guardian moves the hood off of his head. She cups his face with one hand while the other strokes his cheek before tucking several stray strands of hair behind his ear. Throughout it all, Crow is still. However, his heart beats fast within his chest.

“Wha-“ Crow’s questions are cutoff before he could even start to ask —the Guardian smothering them beneath a passionate kiss. She teases his bottom lip with her teeth and in his surprise, Crow opens his eyes.

He’s immediately consumed by the Guardian’s smoldering eyes, half-open to catch his reaction. Crow’s not one to be outdone, and he raises a hand to cradle the back of her head as he presses into the kiss. He teases the Guardian back with a lick of his tongue, half expecting nothing, but pleasantly surprised when she returned in kind. It’s a sweet and warm moment and once again the Guardian feels that soft and fragile thing flutter in her chest.

“See,” the Guardian whispers against Crow’s lips as she caresses his face, maintaining steady eye contact, “all okay. You are you.”

Crow’s brows upturn at her words, feeling almost overwhelmed. Those words offered more solace to his heart than the kisses —kisses which he could hardly believe happened. He’ll have to make sure she was on the same page as him later, because any further and Crow would fall even more inextricably in love with the Guardian.

They lean into each other for some time, letting the comforting silence speak for them. Beside them, the fire pops as it fades off, nearly just embers now.

Crow’s the first to move, stretching behind himself to reach a spare log. He tosses it onto the middle of the fire. It doesn’t catch right away, but the Guardian flicks a bit of solar Light at it and soon the fire cackles warmly again.

Adjusting himself, Crow scoots closer to the Guardian so that they’re sitting shoulder to shoulder.

“Could you tell me—only if you want to—about…” Unsure of how to ask and knowing it’s taboo for guardians to learn details of their past, Crow trails off.

“I-I just want to listen...if that would help.”

The Guardian catches his hand at that and brings it to her lips. She plants a gentle kiss on his palm. Looking into Crow’s eyes, she slowly nods. He leans forward to give the Guardian a chaste peck on her lips. Crow adjusts how he’s sitting to embrace the Guardian from behind and she shifts to lean into him.

“No questions about details related to your past, alright? Only if you don’t understand something like time or place.”

Crow nods several times, suddenly feeling shy and too anxious to speak. He hugs the Guardian tightly before easing up to let her speak.

“Alright,” She sounds a bit tired now, the exact kind of weariness that only comes from raging against a deep grief and losing the battle, but accepting the scars and moving on. One foot in front of the other. “it’s a Golden Age saying that the road to Hell is paved with good intentions.”

“Let me tell you the story of how a beloved space cowboy, an enigmatic jailer, and a terribly misguided, but utterly-devoted-to-his-dead-sister brother collided into absolute tragedy.”

[jasontoddiefor]

Title: would you be so kind Ship: obikin Second: Ten years ago, Obi-Wan Kenobi met Anakin Skywalker, a charming young mage from Naboo, but as fate willed, they could not be together. A decade and thousands dead later, Alderaan’s High Court Sorcerer meets a Forger and his excited apprentice. AN: I forgot to post this on tumblr apparently, but here’s the first chapter of my second long WIP I am working on!

Then

The ship was crammed, filled to the brim with people clinging to one another, staring either at the home they’d lost or the home they hoped to be sailing to. Hundreds of ships had left Dromund Kaas already, carrying refugees across the ocean to safer harbors. The tension was high and sharp enough to cut as they sailed away from the doomed country and only relaxed when the pressure of the country’s shields finally left their shoulders.

“An awful sight, isn’t it?”

Anakin startled, instinctually pulled his coat around himself. Were he in a better shape, he would have lashed out immediately, winds, bindings, blood—

But the power flowing through his veins was too constricted, caged like a wild beast. Instead, Anakin just turned to look at the person who’d addressed him. An old woman with snow-white markings and long lekku stared at the dying country just as he had moments before, grief and resignation painting a sorrowful picture. “I never thought I’d leave this place. Did you?”

Wordlessly, Anakin shook his head. No, he certainly hadn’t thought he’d ever leave this place again. He’d been ready to be buried under the ashes of marble altars, not see this new dawn.

“I was born here, married too. All my children were born within the boundaries of this country and perhaps that is the reason they all left,” the woman continued. “I am glad that they weren’t here. If I think about what could have happened to them were they anywhere near the capital… I apologize; I hope you don’t mind my rambling. You looked like you needed company. Are you traveling to Naboo?”

He opened his mouth to reply, to give an affirmation, but stopped. He hadn’t quite thought where he’d go, except as far away from this place as he could. Naboo was certainly an option; Padmé would be glad to see him, he was sure. She’d take him in without asking a single question and defend him against the storms that were sure to come.

But Padmé was his friend and Anakin couldn’t allow her to shoulder his burden.

“No,” Anakin heard himself saying. “I’m not traveling to Naboo.”

“They are quite defenseless right now, yes, you are right. The fact that it’s the first stop of this ship is tempting enough for most to disregard what troubles might find them there.” The woman nodded in understanding. “I’ll be going to Alderaan myself. My eldest lives there, and in a country as strong as that, a tragedy like this can’t strike.”

She turned to look at the remains of Dromund Kaas again. The coastline used to be covered by beautiful large trees; his Master used to tell him how vital they were for its defense.

Now there was nothing but ash and darkness. Even here on the outskirts, where it had taken the longest for the remains of the catastrophe to reach, nobody was safe from it. Dromund Kaas had been in a pitiful state after the last war, which had made it an easy place to hideaway in. Alderaan might be stronger, the blooming center of magical education, but Anakin doubted they’d be able to defend against an attack like this. Nothing could save them from an attack such as this.

But Alderaan’s distance to this cesspit of disease was enough to provide a different kind of security.

Thousands of refugees would search for safety there, and Queen Breha was as cunning as she was kind. No one would be turned away and Anakin could slip in just right with them.

“I’m going to Alderaan as well,” Anakin replied.

The woman looked him over, then she beamed as if she were a young child and not already among the older members of her species.

Her smile was the first Anakin had seen in weeks. “Looks like we’ll be traveling companions then! You must tell me your name, young friend. I’m Raya Tano.”

She held out her hand and Anakin awkwardly shook it with his own left.

“My name is—”

Now

“Anakin Skywalker! Your automaton is ruining my kitchen!”

Sighing, Anakin let the spell sink back into the metal and settle into it. So much for working on his commissions today. A quick glance around the workshop told him that it was not one of his automatons running wild. Artoo was currently charging up and Threepio was keeping himself busy cleaning up. All the other small automatons Anakin crafted when he was bored were either asleep and charging or hurrying around the workshop, washing up the floors and putting away the tools Anakin had been using.

Anakin tugged off his gloves and threw them to a tiny and eager little automaton before picking up his softer everyday gloves. The leather was still quite resistant and had more runes stitched into it than most people dared to weave into one cloth, but they were nowhere near as excellently crafted as his work gloves. The dragonhide gloves were worth a fortune and so they never left his workshop unless Anakin had to. Anakin watched the little automaton put the gloves in their usual compartment until he could hear the click reassuring that the lock was in place. At first, that had only been a measure against thieves as he hadn’t had much to his name, but by now, it was a habit.

And it discouraged Ahsoka from stealing them for her own projects.

Anakin walked out of his workshop and crossed the courtyard to the small cottage he called his home, finding a kitchen in disarray, Raya standing on a chair with a small red automaton attempting to clean the floors.

“Look what a mess it’s making!” Raya said accusingly. “Instead of polishing my floors, it’s dirtying them!”

“I can see that,” Anakin hummed. He waited until the small automaton had reached his feet, then he bent down and pressed his hand flat on its small back, stopping it. Ahsoka’s handiwork was getting better; this little guy had kept moving for a while despite her absence. Anakin had no idea what the formal apprenticeship for forgers entailed, when they ought to hit what milestone, but he was willing to bet that Ahsoka was years ahead of her peers. Her spells were strong, her rune work fantastic, and very few actual weaknesses were left to explore in her automatons.

But Anakin was still a Master and Ahsoka only an Apprentice. Her work was not yet good enough to keep out foreign interference. Without much thought, he deactivated the automaton completely.

“This was your granddaughter’s handiwork,” Anakin commented. “She’s improving in leaps and bounds.”

Raya huffed and stepped from her chair. “I’m glad to hear that, but weren’t you meant to teach her control?”

“I am,” Anakin said, the argument an old and fond one. They returned to it frequently, mostly to annoy the young Apprentice. “And were she still as much of a mess as three years ago, she hardly would be able to craft such a fine automaton. Can’t do anything about her manners.”

Especially since she’d become a teenager. Anakin didn’t remember being as much of a pain as Ahsoka could be.

“And here I was thinking Masters were supposed to teach their Apprentices a medium of decorum.”

Anakin snorted. “Yeah, well, that’s what she has you for, doesn’t she?”

Raya’s expression softened. “That she does.”

Anakin sometimes wondered how Raya managed to stay so kind and calm when the world had taken so much from her. Her husband, country, her children— and yet she still stood straight, caring for the fellow traveler she’d never allowed to leave and the granddaughter that had been dumped on her with just a warning for Ahsoka’s generally explosive tendencies.

“Where is Ahsoka anyway?” Anakin asked, looking around the kitchen as if she would jump out in the open any moment. “I sent her on an errand earlier this morning, but she hasn’t returned yet.”

Unfortunately, Raya couldn’t tell him either. “I have no idea where that girl is running around—”

“Anakin!”

Speak of the dark and it shall appear. The door was thrown open and Ahsoka rushed inside, tracking even more dirt all over the floor, causing Raya to throw up her arms in defeat in a way Anakin knew meant Ahsoka would be left with all her favorite chores for the next week.

“Welcome back, Ahsoka,” Anakin said. “You’re late.”

“Yes, yes,” Ahsoka replied and rolled her eyes, obviously disinterested in what he had to say. “I got all you asked for and ordered the new metals, but look at this!”

Ahsoka raised her hand, revealing a ripped-off poster. It was tasteful in design, fine cursive writing on light blues, gold ornaments in the corners and, of course, the royal crest right in the middle of it.

Her Majesty the Queen of the Kingdom of Alderaan, Breha Organa, invites all Alderaani Practitioners of the Mythic Arts to attend the festivities in the capital of Aldera—

“Absolutely not,” Anakin said before he could even read the rest of the text. “We’re not going to Aldera to some festival.”

“Why not?” Ahsoka shot back. “It’s no summit, but it would at least be something.”

Her bitterness did not go unnoticed. Ahsoka had begged for months to attend this year’s summit. Every five, all magic practitioners gathered on Tython to exchange notes on their craft and pretend they were not also discussing the politics of their respective countries, forging alliances and the like. Anakin hadn’t been to the last summit, it having been just after Dromund Kaas, and the one before were tainted by the memories that followed, no matter how sweet the time had been. Ahsoka, of course, had begged to attend this year’s one, but it would only be foolish and reckless. He couldn’t just walk into the biggest gathering of mages in the whole continent and expect to get out of it without anyone realizing who he was, asking questions, concluding what he’d done.

Anakin had too much to hide, too much to lose, and he wasn’t going to risk his little Apprentice for it.

Not that Ahsoka knew any of that and wasn’t in the least satisfied with Anakin’s reply and immediately made her displeasure known.

“What would you even want to see there?” Anakin asked, trying to downplay how entertaining such an event was. “It’ll just be all the posh court sorcerers showing off with their fancy focusing crystals. It’s utterly boring and uncreative.”

“Like you wouldn’t use a focusing crystal if you had one,” Ahsoka muttered, arms crossed. “It’s just— there’s nobody else around here who can do magic. And all you ever do is work on machines.”

“Which requires a lot of concentration as it’s not just the manipulation of one aspect, but—”

“—but many, yes, yes, I know the speech,” Ahsoka said and dutifully listed all elements that went into their craft. There was a reason why not many forgers existed. Most mages lacked the talent, patience, and education to learn this craft, or were just plain afraid that they’d permanently damage their ability to use magic at all.

And with the speed technology was evolving and magic weaponized to terrifying new heights, not too many people still had use for forgers. Where two-hundred-years ago, you wouldn’t have gone out to hunt a dragon with a simple sword, but only with one crafted by a Master forger, nowadays you didn’t necessarily need one. Battle magic was on the rise again, especially with more and more countries growing uneasy, peace treaties falling apart. Combined with the threats from the northern continents, it was no wonder people cared less and less about expensive forgers when they could mass-produce and enchant simpler items.

“I just hoped you’d allow at least this,” Ahsoka finished. Her shoulders dropped. “Should have known better. I’ll go finish my readings.”

Ahsoka turned around, her shoulders still hanging, her head low.

Damn it.

Anakin knew that she was doing it on purpose. His Apprentice was cunning and had learned how to play into his every weakness. Slowly she marched into the direction of the door, dragging her feet behind her for effect and dramatics.

Raya raised a brow at him. She usually stayed out of Ahsoka’s tutelage, knowing next to nothing about magic herself, but even with his past being little more than a mystery to her, she could read him better than anyone else.

“Urgh, fine,” Anakin heard himself say. “Fine, we can go to the festival.”

Ahsoka turned around quicker than light and jumped up. “Yes!”

“But that means you’re not going to bring up the summit again!”

“Yes! Of course!” A moment later, Anakin had an armful of an apprentice. “Thank you so much, Master, you’re the best!”

Once she let go of him, she went to hug Raya and hug even her dirty automaton to her chest, still radiating happiness. “I need to go pack my bags immediately!”

“The festival is not for another week—”

Ahsoka obviously didn’t care. So caught up in her joy, she rushed upstairs, heading to her room to start packing. It shouldn’t surprise Anakin that she was so motivated. Ahsoka was a person who thrived on interaction, being surrounded by other people. While the people of their village were friendly, none of them were mages or even just sensitive to magic. It was one of the reasons Anakin had decided to stay without too much fight. But growing up so far removed from other mages had made Ahsoka twice as curious to meet others.

The thought made his stomach churn. He’d have to give Ahsoka formal lessons about their trade now, just if somebody asked questions that were too pointed. She’d also need a bit of the know-how on how you usually interacted with other mages and which pretentious bastards to call sorcerers before they threw a hissy fit. All these capital folks were much too sensitive about terminology after all. Anakin had never bothered to tell her the differences before, but Ahsoka would kill him if she accidentally embarrassed herself because he hadn’t seen it fit to instruct her properly. Forget teaching Ahsoka how to improve her automaton, the next week would be full of etiquette lessons. Skies, there’d be people trying to steal their spellwork too. Had he even mentioned that kind of theft before? Anakin honestly couldn’t recall.

“Already regretting it?” Raya asked, her voice just a touch amused.

“Just a bit,” Anakin replied.

“It’ll be good for her,” Raya said, convinced and confident enough for the both of them. “And good for you as well. I’ve known you for years now and you’ve never even brought a friend over. I’m not going to be young forever, you know. I do expect to be introduced to your future spouse at some point.”

“And this is my cue to go packing as well,” Anakin announced and followed Ahsoka up the stairs with Raya’s laughter following him.

He had no intention of being with anyone, ever, unless he could find glamours that held up even when majorly distracted. On his way up the stairs, Anakin caught a look of himself in the window, saw black vines curling around his neck, inviting someone to take a closer look.

It was better this way.

[unforth]

Ko-Fi Commission for Diminuel

@diminuel here you go love! <3 (sorry it’s not Naga Dean, I got it written before I saw your reply)

Fandom: Supernatural

Ship: Destiel

Rating: Explicit

Tags: A/B/O dynamics, canon adjacent, omega bottom Cas, alpha top Dean, mutual pining and idiots kinda sorta using their words, heat, mentions of Dean/Kevin (in a platonic “alpha helping an omega friend through a heat” way.)

Word count: 1,646 words.

Read on AO3 or read more...(ugh Tumblr is being impossible about formatting sorry it ate all the italics, sigh...you’re probably better off just reading it on AO3)

“Where is he?” Dean demanded, slamming open the door of bunker library and storming into the room. 

Startled, Sam jumped up from his chair, hand reaching for a pistol he didn’t actually have at his side when they were at the Bunker, and then relaxed. “Who, Cas? How did you kn--?”

“No, I mean the fucking Easter Bunny - of course I mean Cas!” Anger and arousal and anger about the arousal simmered beneath Dean’s skin. “And he’s been lighting my phone up with texts like you wouldn’t believe.” This was all wrong. “I didn’t even know he knew how to use the goddamn camera on his phone, much less how to send me a dick pic.” Cas didn’t - couldn’t - want Dean. “What the fuck is going on?”

“Oh, um.” Swallowing, Sam looked away, cheeks flushing. “Maybe you should, uh...I mean, he’s in his room. I thought you two…”

Dean glared, eyes narrowing. “We...what?” 

Come on, Sammy, I dare you to say you legit thought we were a couple, when you know better. He’s a fucking angel, and I’m a fucking mess, and he’d never…

“Nothing! I...look, Dean, I’m not involved. I offered, but he said it had to be you, so...go.”

...I’d never…

“What had to be me?!”

...that’s a total lie, I would if there was even a prayer that he’d want…

“Just go,” ordered Sam, gesturing toward the door and dropping back into his chair to hunch over whatever esoteric nonsense he was reading today.

...but he never would.

Grumbling, Dean obeyed, leaving the library and navigating the tunnels of the Bunker. His nose tickled, an unfamiliar scent permeating the air, and he tried to place it. It smelled a little like Charlie, with the soothing aspect of her betaness easing Dean’s tension even when he didn’t want his tension eased. It smelled a little like Kevin, especially that one annoying time he’d gone into heat, spicy and clinging and inescapable. It didn’t smell like Cas, who never smelled like anything. Jimmy had been an omega, Dean thought, but if Cas had a presentation type, Dean had never caught a whiff of it.

It smelled good, tempting, taunting. An itch teased down Dean’s spine, a whisper of desire thickening his dick.

It smelled wrong, like it didn’t belong, like Dean shouldn’t be following it.

Except he had to check on Cas.

Except the scent intensified the closer he drew to Cas’ room.

Except that Dean didn’t think he could stop himself pursuing the source of that enticing aroma if his life fucking depended on it.

Finally, he stood before Cas’ door. The mystery aroma suffused the air, and the explicit selfies Cas had sent him suggested intriguing possibilities, and Dean stood there, paralyzed.

If he added all the pieces up, it was hard to imagine anything other than that, somehow, Cas was an omega and had gone into heat.

And, if that was the case...the last thing Dean should be doing was knocking on that door.

Cas did not want Dean...but apparently, when he was in heat, maybe he did. Dean would never be that alpha. He would never--

“Dean?” Cas’ shout, frantic and deep and raspy and fucking sex incarnate, was barely muffled by the door. “Dean, you came! Please...oh, please…”

“Yeah,” Dean replied, heart aching. “I’m here.” He should walk away. “But I can’t…”

“I know,” Cas moaned, the scent intensifying. “...I know, I know, you don’t want...I mean...but…” The air was awash with musk and a heavy scent like a thick fog descending, and Dean’s erection stiffened. “...but just this once...please…”

Catching a lip between his teeth, Dean furious debated in his head as Cas continued to beg. On the one hand, Dean was never one to take advantage of an omega in heat. On the other hand, there was a world of difference between scenting a stranger and getting a dumbass alpha boner, and helping a friend through a difficult time. When Kevin had been desperate, Dean had offered himself up, after all...consent was a bitch in cases like those but friends were friends, and working it out after the fact was a time honored tradition...if Dean went in and helped Cas, it wouldn’t be any different.

“...Dean, I’m begging...I need you so badly...need you...only you…”

Right. Not a bit of difference. Nope. Not like Kevin really is just a friend, whereas Cas is…

“...I’ll do anything…”

...is everything...

“...I’m so hot…”

...is nothing...nothing to me...we’re nothing to each other…there’s nothing between us...

“I can’t,” Dean muttered, hoping like hell Cas could hear him, hoping like hell Cas couldn’t hear him and might stop babbling enticingly long enough for Dean to escape. “Cas...look...I get you feel all...some kinda way...right now...but you don’t actually…” Dean laid an arm over the door, leaned his forehead against it, and took a deep breath despite himself. “...you don’t actually want me…” 

Fuck, Cas smelled amazing.

“I do!” said Cas frantically. “I do, please - I need you.” He sounded like he was sobbing, and Dean’s heart could have broken - he wanted to help so badly, wanted to believe Cas so, so badly. 

But...

“...you don’t…”

...he couldn’t.

“I’ll show you!”

Surprised, Dean took a step back from the door and blinked as if the dull gray would tell him what the fuck Cas meant.

Naw, don’t need X-Ray vision to know what he means. He’s horny, and of course between Sam and I’d pick me, I’m hung, and Sam’s a little bitch. When I open this door, he’ll be on his bed, presenting a slick hole, and if my willpower doesn’t snap it’ll be a fucking miracle.

“Please!”

And even knowing all that, Dean couldn’t resist the desperate catch in Cas’ voice.

Fuck, but Dean was gonna hate himself when this was over.

Fuck, but I already hate myself…

With a resigned sigh, Dean pushed the door open and stared.

He’d been partially right - Cas was on the bed presenting a slick hole.

The wings were a surprise, though.

And Cas’ scent was fucking insane, powerful, unearthly, drawing Dean into the room like a siren’s call. He’d heard some nonsense about how a true mate might smell and had never believed a lick of it, and he didn’t believe it now, no matter how amazing Cas smelled, no matter how drawn to him Dean felt - this had to be some bizarre angel mojo, no “meant to be” involved, for all that Cas moaned like a damn pornstar when the first gust of Dean’s scent swept before him into the room. There was no fucking way this was Jimmy’s humanity at work. This was pure angel grace insanity, complete with black feathers, and Dean wanted...Dean needed…

“Bedside table!” Cas gasped, craning his neck to look back at Dean. His eyes were wide, his pupils blown, his cheeks coated with sweat and tears.

Who’d’a thought Cas would have protection next to the bed...good thinking though, I’m about 2.3 seconds from sinking in balls deep, and--

Dean tugged the drawer open.

There weren’t any condoms in the drawer.

There was a book with a leather cover and all the hallmarks of being a journal. 

“Read it - please read it - and then help me, if you still want to - I’ll understand if you don’t - but I need...need...and it can only be you, it has to be you, has to be…” Cas’ supplications dissolved into sobs as, confused, Dean withdrew the book and leafed through the pages…

...Dean, it said on one page...my mortal love, it said on another...anything for him, it said on yet another...doesn’t want me, on another page...here for him no matter what, on another...don’t need more than this, on another...but I want him, on another...page upon page of devotion and care written in Cas’ unmistakable neat handwriting.

Impossible.

The book dropped from Dean’s numbed fingers.

He can’t want me.

He can’t think I don’t want him.

“Dean!”

He couldn’t possibly…

Slowly, Dean turned toward the bed. Cas panted desperately, rocking back against nothing, eyes fixed on Dean...no, fixed on the bulge in Dean’s pants, his gaze was definitely directed down with the look of a starving man...and Dean stared.

...why would he…

“...need you…” Cas whimpered pathetically.

...but he does.

Certain this must be a dream, Dean crossed the scant steps separating them, fumbling hands undoing his belt on the first step, letting his pants drop on the second, stepping out of them on the third and fourth, and then he was beside the bed, and Cas was displayed before him like a banquet, and Dean’s cock was so hard it ached, and the scent of angel heat made him dizzy, and there was nothing, nothing between them except years of devotion and uncountable words of near-confessions that never said everything and desperation and pining and need and devotion…

...there was nothing between them, not a shred of cloth, not a single inhibition, not a hint of uncertainty.

Dean climbed onto the bed.

Though...they would have a fuckton to talk about once Cas’ heat was over.

Or it’s a dream, and I’ll wake up...either way, awkward feels talks can wait...hell, they can wait forever if I’m lucky...and Cas needs me now.

“Don’t worry,” murmured Dean as he pushed forward and the head of his dick breached that perfect, tight pucker for the first time. “I’ll take care of you.”

Everything could wait until Cas was sated - until Dean had been the alpha that Cas deserved.

“I know you will,” Cas whispered, rocking back against him. “You always do...always...always…”

Yes, Cas...always...always here for you...always your alpha...always your Dean…

...always yours.

[sorry-apsalar]

Why Wouldn’t I Be Okay?

This was inspired by a post I saw here on Tumblr that I would link if I could find it again but I can't. Anyway the post said something along the lines of 'imagine Bender recording Fry's voice to replay it to himself later. Now imagine him replaying it long after Fry had passed away'. It was supposed to have been a drabble but it ended up being 2k words long (my own fault for the choice of one of memories I decided to include) instead.

~

“Wait, you’re the only friend I have.”

Bender paused, turning to look back at Fry. “You really want a robot for a friend?” There was no way that could be true because what human in their right mind wanted to be friends with a robot?

“Yeah, ever since I was six.” He looked and sounded completely honest. Bender would’ve suspected it was an attempt at a cruel trick if it wasn’t for the fact Fry had just got done mistaking a suicide booth for a place to make phone calls and not realized the mistake until it had almost killed him; no way someone that stupid could fake being genuine so well. Meaning not only did he want a robot as a friend, he’d already decided that the two of them were friends. … Bender had never had a friend before so…

“Well okay, But I don’t want people thinking we’re robo-sexuals so if anyone asks, you’re my debugger.” Why not give this whole friendship thing a go? If it didn’t work out or he got bored of it, the suicide booth would still be there.

Bender sighed as he stopped the recording. It was crazy how much his life had changed that day all thanks to his chance encounter with Fry and then on a whim deciding to agree with Fry’s decision that they were friends. It wasn’t often he cared to take time to appreciate that but today was certainly a good day for it. … It was a good day for a lot of things.

The heater elements made him run uncomfortably hot and slowed down his other systems a bit but it was nowhere near bad enough to risk damage or automatic shutdown. A little bit of discomfort was worth it because his plan had worked; Fry had cuddled up to him without argument, complaint, or even much hesitation.

Fry was soft and squishy pressed up against Bender’s side. With an arm wrapped so firmly around him, Bender could feel his breathing. It was slowing and evening out as the last of the tension melted from his body. A quick furtive glance revealed that his eyes were closed now too; he was sleeping or in the process of falling asleep. Which wasn’t surprising the cold that had settled in their apartment after Bender had gutted the space heater had woken him several hours earlier than normal, especially for their day off. But it was still nice to see he was comfortable enough with Bender to fall asleep so quickly while they were cuddling like this. If only this could be a regular thing. …

Oh fuck, Bender was hopelessly in love, wasn’t he? Though he probably should’ve realized that upon coming up with this plan and deciding to do it, huh? Not that it mattered how or why he realized because…

Bender pulled himself out the memory. Looking back on it now, he almost couldn’t believe how he’d been so thoroughly convinced that there was no hope of that love being reciprocated. Him and Fry were basically the perfect match.

“I like you for you,” Fry said looking directly at Bender. “You’re great and you’re my best friend. And I love spending time with you whether we’re off on a space adventure or just lazing around the apartment watching TV together. So, I’d like to be more than just friends if that’s what you want too. If not, that’s… okay too, I’d understand.”

Bender did want that even if he’d never dared to actually hope for it. Before he said ‘yes’ though… “Oh, hmmm… what else do you like about me?” There was no way he could ever pass up an opportunity to make Fry say more nice things about him.

“You’re always fun to talk to and you’ve got great ideas for ways to pass the time when we’re bored. And even though you steal my wallet all the time, you always give it back eventually. And you’re a robot and that’s still super cool even if I’m used to robots by now because you were the first one I met and I wasn’t lying when I said I’d always wanted a robot for a best friend. So really by being my pal, you’re fulfilling a lifelong dream of mine. I’ve never thought about dating one before now though, it just never occurred to me until after that uh… kiss experiment we did.”

“Go on.”

Fry gave him a slightly annoyed look that only increased Bender’s enjoyment of the moment. “You’re also very confident, especially in yourself. And you’re also super strong, you can bend metal like it’s made of paper which is super cool. And sometimes you use that strength to open jars for me and sometimes you don’t even make fun of me for not being able to open it myself. Also, even despite our occasional disagreements, we always make up eventually and then we’re friends again like nothing ever happened and… that’s really nice. So… will you go out with me?” He held a hand out towards Bender, offering it.

Ah shit, Bender couldn’t drag this out any longer, could he? He wasn’t programmed to be able to handle emotional situations, heck he wasn’t programmed to have emotions at all. How did he say ‘yes’ without coming off as awkward and desperate? Or without fucking up his chances some other way? ... He had to say or do something! …

“Well, if you’re going to butter me up that much, I suppose we can go on one date and see what happens.” He couldn’t help but look away as he put his hand in Fry’s. That hadn’t exactly come out how he would’ve…

Fry’s grip on Bender’s hand tighter as he yanked him closer. “Can I kiss you again? For real this time, not just as an experiment?” Their bodies were very close now, enough that he could’ve just done it without asking. He didn’t even need to as far was Bender was concerned.

“I just agreed to go on a date with you meatbag, what do you think?”

Fry didn’t do it though, nor did he say anything. He was far too cute and sweet for his own good. It was endearing though.

Bender sighed. “Yes moron, you can kiss me again.”

Finally Fry kissed him again. His lips were warm and soft, an odd sensation but a pleasant one. And just like last time it was over before Bender was really ready for it to be.

“Better than last time?” Fry asked, his face flushing a little.

“A little.” And the first one had already been pretty good, even if Bender would never admit to it.

If only Bender could actually relive any of these moments. The visuals and audio were crystal clear and his recall of his emotions and internal thoughts were also recorded perfectly but it was still just a memory that he was choosing to play the full recording of in his head. No matter how much he wished he could sink into them as if they were happening in real time, he couldn’t. With another useless sigh, he started playing the next one.

As casually as he physically could, Bender strode over to stand by Fry as he hosed down the ship.

Fry turned his head to look at him with a smile. “I didn’t think you’d show up again until after the ship was done being cleaned.”

Bender hadn’t known that that was happening otherwise he would’ve stayed hidden for a while longer. “Eh, it’s whatever, Leela’s not around to order me to help so I don’t have to. But uh… I have a gift for you.”

Fry gave him a skeptical look. “It’s not another thing you stole that you’re giving to me so I get in trouble instead of you, is it?”

“Nope and for once I actually mean that. I did steal it though. But it was a while ago, I doubt anyone cares anymore so you probably won’t get in trouble for having it.”

He didn’t look completely convinced but after a couple seconds hesitation, Fry shrugged as he placed the hose on the ground and turned to face Bender fully. “All right then, what is it?”

Already in his hand and hidden behind his back, Bender pulled out the ring box. With a practiced flick of his wrist, he flipped open the lid so that Fry could see the big fancy ring inside. “Will you marry me?”

His eyes widening, Fry gasped. “I uh… yes, yes of course!”

Bender had expected a ‘yes’ – why wouldn’t Fry want to marry him? – but the enthusiasm was appreciated. Being excited about it was maybe a bit silly but -

“You okay Bender?”

With a jolt, Bender stopped the recording and opened his eyes. Cubert and Dwight hovered in front of him with worried expressions. Which just wasn’t right because they looked like their fathers now – especially Cubert because he was clone – neither of whom had ever been concerned about Bender, or at least not enough to look at him like that. How their sons had grown up to be such softies was a mystery, an annoying one.

“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be okay?” Bender didn’t bother getting up from the couch in hopes that they’d leave soon.

“Well,” Cubert said, “You stayed overnight at work again. That’s not something people who are okay typically do.”

“Or maybe I just arrived before you did.” Bender had meant to leave the breakroom and head to probably the basement instead before they’d arrived but they’d just had to come in an hour early.

Dwight sighed and shook his head. “Also, according to my records it’s the one-year anniversary of… well… uh… you know. So it makes sense that you’re not okay, especially today.”

The one-year anniversary of Fry’s death. By some miracle he’d been the last to go, outliving even Leela by almost two whole years. It had been inevitable though, even modern science could only keep him alive for so long. And thus Bender had known it was coming from the very start and had seen all their friends die one by one… he’d never been ready to face it though, still wasn’t.

Despite that, he scoffed and rolled his eyes. “It’s been a year, I’m over it. Meatbags die, it’s one of the things they’re most known for. So I’m over all their deaths, including and especially his.”

Neither of them believed him. In fact, they looked at him with even more sadness and worry than before as if he were some poor lonely sap to be pitied. “It’s okay to grieve,” Cubert said. “You don’t have to be ashamed of it, we miss him and everyone else too. And we know how much you two loved each other.”

Dwight looked like he was going to say something in agreement but before he could get a single annoying word out, Bender stood up. “I have work to do.” He went past them and left the room, heading for the ship hanger.

Only one of the two company ships were in. The other was due to return sometime today and when it did, the team crewing it would probably have something for him to do. If not and probably if so as well, he’d be sure to be part of the crew going on the next mission because he needed the distraction. Hopefully it’d be a long one too so he’d have an excuse to continue to not return to his empty apartment.

Ugh, he was actually looking to do work for once and hoping it’d take a long time. That’s how far he’d fallen this past year. … He could delete his memories of Fry and all his friends – he even missed Zoidberg and Scruffy, something he never would’ve predicted. It’d hurt so much less if he did. With help he could even delete them so thoroughly that he wouldn’t even know anything had been deleted.

But… meeting and befriending Fry had irrevocably changed his life.  Those memories not only included his happiest, they were also the majority of his life at this point. What would he be like if he did delete them? … Impossible to say and… he wasn’t sure he wanted to know. So… for now, he’d continue to live with them and continue to hope that maybe one day they’d hurt less.

[someone-worth-racing-for]

Hey there!

I am quite new here and I was wondering how you got into this fandom. Specially the carlandofandom :)

Also, when did you start writing? I saw your posts the other day about not being able to write all of it, so it somehow triggered me to write some stuff myself (some requests were just too cute).

Havent been properly writing for ages though and I am not quite sure if anybody wants to read my stuff...any advice? Im so indecisive...

Thanks for all your great stories and have nice day :)

Hey you, anonym and especially – welcome to the fandom! 🤗❤️

Oh my God, believe me – you actually don’t want to know how I got to this fandom, it’s such a long story.. You better grab yourself some Coke and popcorn, because this will be a longer one.. 🥤🍿

But alright, everything has begun with that the TWD (The Walking Dead) fandom has started to annoy/boring me, also because the show has become pretty bad and I wanted to leave the sinking ship before it will be too late. That must have been around autumn/winter 2018. During the winter months I really, really love to watch ski jumping, also because it’s pretty popular in my country (Austria). I was already a fan of it since many, many years, but I only became a real fan at that time. I always say I love this sport so much, because those jumps are always so “quickly over” – meaning that I don’t have to wait for too long to find out the results. Yeah, the competition itself isn't that short, but the individual jumps of each athlete are. That’s why I actually “hate” F1 so much, because I have to wait freaking two hours of pure stress, several mental breakdowns and heart attacks later to finally find out who will win, and also because so much can happen during a race, while those ski jumpers are practicing individual – does that make any sense!? However, so I got pretty deep into the ski jumping fandom over that time, especially also here on Tumblr, where I have met a pretty nice girl back then, who had been as thrilled about the fandom as me. But you know, during the summer there aren’t any competitions, so it had been pretty boring in the ski jumping fandom and then suddenly that girl came up with F1.

The first thing I have thought was ‘NO WAY! NEVER EVER!’ – you have to know, I have really hated F1 with a passion before August 2019. I was always making fun of my boyfriend watching those cars driving in circles for two hours. I just couldn’t understand it how someone can watch that voluntary (I sometimes still can’t..😅) and I really, really hated it with everything I had. My boyfriend even was at the Austrian GP in 2019 and back then my biggest nightmare would have been if he would have forced me to come with him (he got there with his father in the end – today I would give everything to get there!)

I remember, we have been on vacation during the beginning of August 2019. We were in a theme park, when my boyfriend said at one point that he will get over to that bench in the shadow under the tree now and watch the qualifying. I have really thought he was kidding me, because I couldn’t understand how the hell someone would watch something so stupid like F1, while being in a freaking theme park. Well, today I would be the one sitting there on the bench, while my boyfriend would probably urge me to please finally stand up so we could go on 😅

That was at the beginning of August 2019 – so I must have slowly but sure fallen for the fandom around 15th of August. And if you believe me or not, but I have neither fallen for Lando nor for Carlos at the first place. It was actually Max, also because he was one of the less drivers I have known next to Lewis, Sebastian, Valtteri (I always had to think about Harry Potter because of Bottas..😂) and probably Nico. But I have actually began to “stalk” when I have got to know about that Max has a little sister and I have found those sweet pics of him with her together (Do you know which pics I mean? You should really check them out – they are so cute). And somehow Lando came into the play as well and so my first story for this fandom resulted. Back then I have really, really thought it would be the first and also last story I will ever publish for this fandom. Well, that didn’t aged well..😅 Somehow my interest grew and grew with every more day stalking the internet for content and by the time of the first race after the summer break, I was already a fan. Spa 2019 has been the first F1 race I have ever watched from the start till the end and I have to say that this weekend has broken me (literally). Of course, because of Anthoine, but also because this time of the year is since 2017 never easy for me and on that weekend also Carlando finally came into the play. Check out this post from a few weeks ago – Carlos’ birthday on Sunday and that Lando has supposedly hugged Carlos after his DNF has really, really touched my heart and since that day these two boys own my heart and I remember, that the next day after the race I have got up at five in the morning to write “Tomorrow will be kinder” – because writing is sometimes my only way to deal with things, so I just had to write my thoughts/feelings down and it was the beginning of something beautiful actually.

But there is one more little story I have to tell you about my F1 past – this story right here is actually one of @hurtsprincess favourite ones. Because back in 2015, when F1 was finally back in Austria again, I was there by the race as probably the biggest F1-hater under all of them. Half of our town and so also most of our friends has got there, so it was kind of peer pressure, why I have finally joined them as well. We had to stand up really, really early – actually it was still in the middle of the night (I think it was three in the morning or so) and got to Spielberg with the bus. It was one of the hottest day of the year back then and after watching “the race of generations” with Niki Lauda, Gerhard Berger and some others and then following also the F3 and F2 races (Me, back in 2015: What do you mean there are races before the actual race? What the hell is F3 and F2?) and because we were so damn tired after standing up so early, most of us, including myself, were sleeping in the meadow during the F1 race. So I have missed over half of the race and I really can’t even remember anymore who has won 😅 But it had still been a funny day for my as a F1-hater, but believe me - if I should ever get to a GP again, this won’t ever happen to me again! 😅 I promise! 🤞🏼

Wow, this has turned out longer than you have actually wanted it, right anonym?! 

Your first question about how I have got into the Carlando fandom is probably answered now and also half of your second question. But I have actually started writing fanfictions back in autumn 2016 for the TWD fandom. I have written overall 16 stories for that fandom and 4 stories in German for the ski jumping fandom, but as much as I have already loved to write fanfictions back then, it only really became my passion and biggest hobby with Carlando. I just can’t stop writing about them, also because they make me so happy and for me so easy with those dorks just being them 😊

Yeah, I’m still very sorry about that I just can’t write stories to all of these great requests, even tho I would really, really like to do - but if you have got inspired by one of these, you should give it a try!

But if you are really that indecisive and shy, you could use the anonymity of the internet for your favor (in this case this posibilty is a good thing - as long as you use your anonymity not for spreading hate/attacking/bullying someone) You know what I mean? I actually did/do that as well. Only three people here on Tumblr know who I really am. Some of you may know from where I am (because I don’t make a secret out of it) and some here even know my name, but that’s it. I don’t share any more personal things about my identity, because I also prefer to stay anonymous here, especially because only my boyfriend, my best friend and my mother know about that I’m writing fanfictions. All those other people I call “friends” don’t know about it or me having this account here and I also don’t want them to know, because they simply wouldn’t understand it.

What I’m trying to say here - if it makes you feel better and also more secure, you could upload your story on AO3 without telling anyone it’s you. Or if you don’t want to post it on AO3 and you also don’t want to post it on your Tumblr account, I offer you to send me your story anonymous. I would post it in your “name” aka anonym, saying that this story isn't mine and you could watch/read the reactions.

You don’t have to lose anything, anonym 😉 I would really, really like to read your story, no matter if you will decide to publish it with your name or anonymous. Because there won’t ever be enough writers out there, blessing us with their great stories. Also because I am as much a passionate reader than a writer. And I’m also pretty sure about that you are talented and also about that your story would be more than just worth reading it 😊

Thank you so much for your message, anonym and I’m sorry my answer turned out to be so long 😅 but I really hope my words have helped you in some way, because I’m pretty sure about that you actually don’t have to have a reason to be that shy and indecisive 😉 Just give it a try, as long as it makes you happy 🤗❤️

[a-froger-epic]

What are your top 5 favorite angst moments in fics by other people

Thanks for resending the ask! The original one seems to be stuck in Tumblr limbo.

This was so hard. I literally just spent 45min going through my bookmarks and I could point you to some people's entire fic catalogues or entire fics without being able to pic a single scene in particular because they have so much delicious angst. (Yeah, I'm looking at you @aboutnothingness and @freddieofhearts and @i-lay-my-life-before-queen's Omegaverse Froger, or also @immistermercury's Jimercury ballet!Freddie epic and really several oneshots by some of my favourite authors in their entirety.)

But. I had to choose. So here are, in no particular order, some scenes:

---

Princes of the Universe by @tikiniki

Sci-fi AU. John saves Prince Freddie's life. 😰

Then, through the screams and gunfire, John heard Roger’s voice.

“John, Freddie! Watch out!”

And John spun around, just in time to see Roger throw himself towards Kassius, Kassius who had his gun raised and aimed at Freddie’s back.

His breath caught in John’s chest. Roger wouldn’t be fast enough.

He wasn’t.

The release of the bullet from Kassius’s gun disappeared in the rest of the noise. John acted on instinct.

He was barely conscious of moving at all. He barely noticed shoving Freddie to the side as hard as he could. He didn’t hear the surprised outcry leaving Freddie’s mouth.

But he felt it. Felt when the bullet pierced his chest.

The force of the bullet made him stumble back. He tried to draw a breath, tried to make a sound, but all was white-hot pain. The next second the guards were upon them. John was shoved in the chaos, his knees buckling beneath his weight.

Unable to catch himself, he fell over the edge of the pool.

Just before he breached the surface, he heard it.

The sound of voices crying out his name.

He smiled as he hit the water.

---

Aftercare by @bisexualroger

Freddie got mugged. 🥺

There’s an alien quality to the mirror, despite the fact that Freddie uses it every day and has done for months now. Perhaps it’s not the object itself that’s unfamiliar, but rather what it’s reflecting, the offending image subsequently contaminating the rest of the room with its strangeness. Lucky for him though; if the face in front of him registered as his own it might be too much for him to handle. Today’s been difficult enough without having to fully acknowledge the physical consequences of his earlier misfortune.

Freddie leans closer to the glass. The sight makes his lip tremble and his hands shake, but he swallows down his distress and reminds himself to view it objectively. It’s not his face, just a problem that needs to be fixed.

Taking another deep breath he tries again to go in with the cotton wool pad. Slippery with alcohol the cheap fabric desperately wants to slide out of his hand, but he keeps his grip steady as he brings it to his face. Immediately though the burning sting has him wincing. He tries to hold his nerve but the pain only intensifies, making his eyes prickle so he can no longer see what he’s doing. With a stifled cry of frustration he tosses the wool down into the sink and slides to the floor.

Once there his first instinct is to curl in on himself, but the pain in his ribs prevents him from doing so, which only makes matters worse. He’s been at this for fifteen bloody minutes, and much as he wants to shout and rage at the unfairness of it all his anger is infuriatingly manifesting itself through tears rather than determination. For goodness sake all he wants to do is have a hot shower and forget the entirety of this awful day, but he can’t until he’s dealt with this. It’s so agonisingly unjust.

---

The Path of Nevermore by @plainxte

Things are complicated. *sings* Give me one night only, one night only... 😭

"Yeah. I should probably head out," Roger said, looking around him. He was sure there was somewhere that he had promised to be that day.

"Please, Rog," Freddie said. "Don't go. Don't leave me alone. I mean. Don't send me to the path," Freddie said.

Roger turned to him with a smile. It quickly faded when he studied the look on Freddie's face: he was completely serious, and there was no hint of amusement in his eyes. He meant it, Roger realised. When Freddie said nothing more, just continued to look at him, it finally hit him what Freddie was saying. The seriousness of what he was asking.

"Of course I won't leave you," Roger whispered. "You know that. I wouldn't. But you know I can't, I can't – "

Freddie carefully lifted one hand, putting it hesitantly on his cheek, only just touching. His fingertips ghosted over Roger's cheekbone. "I know," he said. "And that's not what I meant. And I can't, either. But just for now. Please don't go. Please."

Roger took a breath. His thoughts were getting no clearer; if anything, his whole head seemed to be in a fog. He wasn't thinking; he couldn't think. He could only nod. Freddie leaned closer, and Roger closed his eyes. After what seemed like an age, he felt soft lips touch his. He reached up his own hand to Freddie's face, skimming over his jaw to come to a rest in his hair.

"And about time, too," he breathed.

---

Sobering Up by... oh whoops, it seems their tumblr was deleted or changed names. Well, nevermind, I still love this fic so much.

Roger and Freddie don't know how to deal. 💔

They lie there afterwards, stewing in a pregnant silence. Normally, sex put Roger right to sleep but this… he was unable to wrap his head around any of it.

He rolled over to lie on his stomach away from Freddie. He took a pillow and clenched it tightly in his arms, pressing his face deeply into it. Some animal instinct was telling him if he squeezed hard enough then the painful sickening swirl of emotions in his chest might ebb away.

Freddie softly cleared his throat. “Rog,”

“Hm?” Roger feigned sleepiness. He didn’t feel like having any kind of pillow talk.

“What…” Freddie faltered. “What do you think the future has in store for us?” Roger felt his heart seize up.

“What’d you mean ‘us’?” His voice was muffled in his pillow, but it didn’t mask the cracking on the last syllable. He heard Freddie make a sharp intake of breath.

“Queen.” He said. “What do you think we’ll be like in the future? D’you think we’ll make it?”

Roger was quiet at first. Freddie wasn’t the type to avoid the elephant in the room like this.

“Dunno,” Roger sighed, still clinging tightly to his pillow. “But I won’t stick around if there are better places to be.”

“Are there better places to be?” Freddie’s feigned curiosity did nothing to hide the anxiety in his voice. And it dawned on Roger that they weren’t going to talk about the sex. They were never going to talk about it. It had happened and that was all. It was too big, much too big, for either of them to face. This was Freddie’s way of asking if Roger was okay with that.

Roger didn’t exactly feel relief at this revelation. Somehow he felt like he had given Freddie a much more intimate part of himself than he had given any other partner. And the seriousness of that weighed heavily on him. Nothing would be the same for him again. But it had to be.

---

On the side of a hill, a sprinkling of leaves by @quirkysubject

Freddie falls in a puddle and can't get up (also this scene is way too long to quote all of it, but like THIS WHOLE SCENE MAN 😭💕)

“Jesus, Fred, are you alright?” Hands are on his back, his shoulders, trying to urge him up. Oh, how Freddie wishes Roger would just leave him alone (liar, the warm and tiny and inextinguishable gleam of hope inside him whispers).

“Fine,” he mumbles as he lies face down in the mud, waiting, praying for the earth to swallow him up.

“Freddie, come on, get up.” The hands tug a little harder. And then, when Freddie just shakes his head, Roger’s hands slide under his armpits, and he is hauled upright with a frustrated, “What the hell’s the matter with you?”

It’s this that does it. All ability to contain himself evaporates.

“I hate this so much!”

The words explode out of him. He can hear how his voice sounds, shrill, pathetic, whiny. Useless. But he can’t stop himself. “I hate everything about this. My ankle hurts and my arm hurts and I want proper tea with milk, and a bath, and my bed, and Tom and Jerry, and a slice of toast that is actually toasted and I… I just want to go home.”

It’s a small mercy that he can blame any wetness on his cheeks on the rain. Not that it will do him much good. He is throwing a tantrum at the worst possible moment, and Roger is going to do what he always does when Freddie is being unreasonable - walk out, have a smoke, come back an hour or two later when the storm has blown over.

Only if he leaves now, Freddie will melt into the ground and never come up again.

---

A special mention goes to a Doctor Who fic which is probably my favourite angsty fic of all time, because even though I'm not active in the Who fandom right now, I'm still Doctor/Master trash. And Locked in Orbit by @nicolauda (I think this is yours? Correct me if wrong) is one of the best goddamn pieces of writing with that ship that exist for me.

[nurseofren]

Keeping Your Promise - Chapter 24

Read on AO3

Read chapter twenty-three

Title: Prove it

Words: 6800

Warnings: Talks of pregnancy, mentions of vomit

Summary: A friend. A foe?

ST Rambles: I look pretty good for a dead bitch.

Okay. In all seriousness. In the five weeks that I have not updated, it has been chaos. School is absolutely kicking my ass this semester and I am not afraid to say it. Maternal-Newborn is a hell I would not wish on my worst enemy. With this said, I know any further updates will be sporadic, BUT - and I say this to snuff out any doubt on the matter - I will never, EVER, abandon this story. However it ends, rest assured that it will, in fact, do just that.

I thank you all for your patience and encouragement. This story is something I care deeply about and it just floors me that others do as well. I love interacting with you all, either on here or tumblr or TikTok (if you've made one and I haven't seen it, please tag me! My fyp does not work in my favor lol).

Be kind. Don't forget to be a person. All you can do is try your best.

[MASTERLIST] | BANNER/@elmidol

Good afternoon,

I can only hope this correspondence finds you safe and well.

The Board of Physicians sympathizes during this time of displacement and potential grieving. There are countless variables to be considered during uncertain times like these, but those of your safety and well-being are of the utmost importance. In an effort to convey the depth of our understanding, a unanimous vote has approved the decision to extend the dates of the trial by seven days. Upon receiving this official communication, you should plan to arrive on Canto Bight a minimum of two days prior to the morning of the initial hearing. An updated outline has been attached at the end of this e-mail for reference and sent to all pertinent parties.

Per the initial correspondence, Commander Ren is to receive a new provider prior to the trial’s start date. This objective has been met with the solemn barrier of the diminished population of approved nurses and physicians which resulted from the recent tragedy of Starkiller Base. There have been additional unforeseen circumstances also working to lengthen and altogether halt this approval process. Rest assured that we are doing everything in our power to ensure the trial proceedings occur in an organized and professional manner.

The emergent provider shortage, along with the unknown – and likely diminished – amount of surveillance retained from Starkiller Base prior to its destruction, has laid the foundation for the discussion of potential and probable employment during your time on Canto Bight. The discussions surrounding this issue are in their infancies. Should it be that you are to assume a care position during your trial, you will receive a further updated and in-depth itinerary. This would include the dates, times, and location you would be expected to work; this information would be accompanied by any specific limitations regarding your scope of practice while on trial.

Though you are encouraged to reach out to discuss any questions or concerns you may have pertaining to these new developments, the current agenda is to be followed with strict compliance. Should there be any changes, as stated previously, I will communicate these to you in a timely and conscious manner.

Respectfully,

Karmen Zag, Esq.,

Head of Communications,

The Board of Physicians

“Yeah, well, you can go fuck yourself Karmen Zag. Stupid ass name anyway.”

Not that anyone could hear you, nor that anyone would care, you could not help the petty jab. Karmen Zag, the faceless mouthpiece of the institution actively seeking your death, had little to do with anything. Karmen Zag was not the one who had carved initials into your body; that person was elusive to you now. Karmen Zag was not the one who kept you from sleep; that person was dead, killed by the trembling hands of the very survivor they’d created. Karmen Zag was not the one you were currently hiding from; that person, achingly kind and too ignorant to know different, still came to pick you up from shift every night.

Cramped in the corner of a supply room, you sat with your knees tucked to your chest and your datapad resting on your thighs, eyeing the vent at the bottom of the door to spy Mason’s tapping foot. In the seven days since waking up in the medbay, six days since returning to work to help with the increased patient population – or, at least that’s what you were telling yourself – you had found yourself with a desperate need to distance yourself from Mason. He was unaware of all that was haunting you, nescient to the fact he was at the epicenter of the majority of it. To see him was to remember the choice you’d made, to hate yourself for regretting it, to be morally ripped in half by the unwavering war in the back of your mind.

The first three days he would always sneak up on you, flurries of white lies leaving while you fumbled away from him and into the nearest room. I’m on call tonight was your favorite. No, you weren’t, though you had been staying in the on-call rooms to hide the fact that you no longer held a residence on this ship. No matter if you had not received official word on your employment status, you felt an unease when thinking of returning to Kylo Ren’s quarters. It felt too broken, like you’d be a stranger somewhere you’d once considered a home.

Eventually, Mason being an inherent creature of habit, you’d picked up on his timing. On the fourth day you’d decided to stake him out, finding he would spend exactly ten minutes waiting, send a message to your commlink, spend another five toying with his own as he waited for a response, eventually asking whoever was nearest to tell you to call him. You never did. It was despicable, watching his hope falter as the days passed and you were never there to leave with him; wretched, but that did not make it any less necessary.

So long as you were away from Mason, you couldn’t hurt him. If you could create a rift between the two of you so great as to discourage any further interaction, you could save him from all the suffering that came along with being associated with you. On the other hand, you couldn’t deny the comfort you felt in deferring any conversation with him. Avoidance may not be a healthy coping mechanism, but all the ones you’d learned of in school were useless to your set of circumstances; there was no talking this through, no way to speak of Snoke or Kylo or Robbie without getting someone else hurt. You were trapped in your own, sole company; whoever you had become recently, you were barely tolerant of them, let alone fond. It was growing increasingly difficult to recognize your own reflection. At some point you figured you might stop looking altogether.

Zag’s update had been present in your inbox ever since returning to work; with each read through – which, now, you’d have read a hundred times – you felt time pass by. Each night you spent time tucked away here, the cold tile permeating the scrub pants you now wore; the uniform you’d had on when you arrived back on the Finalizer had been too tattered to reuse. Not that you wanted to wear it; in those tattered, bloodied threads lay the obvious truth of how entirely you had failed at the only assignment you had ever been trusted with.

Trusted. The thought made you shiver. Yes. Trusted. Past tense. In every sense it could be. Thus, folded into yourself, away from prying eyes or well-meaning friends, you scrolled aimlessly up and down the message. Though its existence annoyed you, knowing full well that there was no empathy or genuine concern behind the decision to delay the trial, it also brought you ease to know this portion of your life was almost over. Again you were embracing the possibility of your death, only this time rooted in hatred for yourself, not Kylo Ren.

“Alright, well, can you tell her-,”

“Tell her to call you. Got it. Do every night.” One of your coworkers had grown exasperated with Mason – or was it with you? Either way, peeking through the vent slats, you spied Mason’s legs drag out of view. It made your heart fall, feeling more disgusted with yourself each day; it was this confusing combination of feeling a pull to run after him, to apologize to him with every breath you had left, only for that initial urgency to be swallowed by the knowledge that the action would be futile.

With tired eyes, not having gotten more than two hours of unbroken sleep since the sixteen you’d woken from, you looked to your left wrist. It was a routine gesture, pointless in the fact you had not worn the watch since finding it on your bedside table. Much like your uniform, only agonizingly amplified, the sight of the gadget inspired a hollowness in your chest. It remained in a pillowcase, hidden atop the bed you’d claimed. Each night you toyed with it, thumbed at the lifeless screen and wondered if it would ever offer another flicker; each night you caught the hazy reflection of two unfamiliar eyes, finding only the remnants of shattered promises staring back at you.

A sigh crept into your lungs when you stood, arms stretching and hands smoothing back your hair before going to activate the door. It hissed open without your indication; before you could question how, two hands pushed you out of the way and sent you flying face first into the storage shelves. Nose first, actually; the collision rang through your ears, pain throbbing in prominence as you stumbled for stability, arms widespread and eyes pinched shut.

“Oh! You have to be kidding!” Copper crept down your upper lip, cascading over your sharp tongue, foggy eyes opening to blood-stained fingers. “Watch where you’re going, jeez!”

Away from you sounded the door as it shut, but that wasn’t the sound that alarmed you. Across the room, near the sink – at least you hoped it was near the sink – came the horrendous retching that could only indicate vomit. The longer you listened, though, all the while blindly searching for a package of gauze, you found it wasn’t vomit, but an attempt towards it; echoes of dry heaves wracked the room, vomit absent even as the stranger continued in their effort toward expulsion.

A spill of winces left you, a grimace following suit when you tipped your head back, blood draining down your throat. You found a box of gauze squares and tore it open, peeling away a layer and rolling it into a cone before pushing it into one nostril. Vessels pounded against the material, injury soaking into it as you caught your breath.

“I’m so sorry,” a familiar voice said, groggy and breathless. “The refresher was occupied, and the occupancy indicator wasn’t on.” She took another breath, gasping back spit. “I figured the sink in here would do.”

Another person you’d been avoiding. Talia. Sick. As she would be, of course. It was something you’d fought thoughts on; it was too confusing, too unnerving to put the pieces you’d been offered together. Hux had left her room, had been so distraught. Talia had seized and ended up in the medbay. Armitage. Stars, how that word haunted you in the way it left her paling lips. She’d been so disoriented, so scared. Glassy eyes and green pallor. And the person she’d asked for was Armitage.

With these thoughts, dizzying as they had become, came the image of the very thing that tied them all together: that square-cut, printed, glossy ultrasound picture. Between nightmares of Robbie and desperately trying to find any amount of sleep, you saw it clear in your head, remembered how you’d lost your ability to stand when you first considered the reality of it. It all made sense clinically; the symptoms, the tangible evidence showing a yolk sac, the patient identifiers framing the monochrome image.

But, when you remembered running into Hux, remembered the ghost in his eyes and felt the rather unsettling demeanor – one not marked with errant hatred – he’d met you with, it all started to blur. Jumble. Your mind rejecting the thought that Talia and Hux-

Talia mewled, your eyes opening to find white knuckles outfitting a vise grip over the sink’s metal edge. The fluorescent lights lining the ceiling made it all too easy to see how sick she really was. Tears glinted down her cheeks, her hair dull in its tousled bun, a string of spit straying from her bottom lip; there was a suggestion of green just below the surface of her skin, exhaustion evident in the lavender drapes below her eyes.

A shaky breath left her before she rested against the sink, elbows bent and fingers rolling over her temples. For a moment there was a deafening silence, one that strangled you and emphasized the throbbing in your nose when you stopped breathing. It dissipated when Talia groaned, her head drooping and stance shifting.

“At least shift is done, right?” She sounded like she was talking to anyone. She didn’t know it was you. She didn’t know you knew.

Swallowing, dropping your hand from your face, you tried to think of anything to say. But nothing would come. And, considering how little time you had left to know her – execution or not – you saw no point in frivolous small talk.

“How far along are you?” It was a low rasp; frail in its existence yet bludgeoning the quiet that had preceded it.

She didn’t look up, but you knew she recognized your voice; her every muscle stalled, hair even stilling as your words sank into her. It was the first thing you’d said to her since she’d seized. In her silent shock it dawned on you that it had not been long since you’d been in a situation similar to this; the two of you, a pitting silence, a mess – obvious and blaring – surrounding you.

Only this mess was not something that could be cleaned. This mess existed outside all you had once thought to consider. Though this room was less gruesome in appearance, it held that same suffocated dread, carried with it the reminder that everything could change without a moment’s notice. Watching the color return to her cheeks, absentmindedly brushing your fingertips across the raised marks atop your thigh, it hit you how true that fact was.

A small sound – a swallow – filled the room, a sigh to accompany it. “Six weeks. I think, at least. Maybe more.” She stood then, crossing her arms and leaning against the sink. A wall stood between you and her, invisible yet so entirely present. “No one knows.” Her jaw fluttered at its hinge. The wall was for her; a façade, a crutch. She was scared.

The door lit cool shivers down your back, hands digging into your pockets, a weak attempt at a smile pulling at your face. “Congratulations,” you offered first, forgetting the circumstances before seeing her eyes fall to the floor. “Or not, I guess.”

She kept her eyes down. “I’m not showing, and I’ve been good about sneaking away to throw up, so…”

“Last week,” you said, her stare coming back to you, “after Starkiller. I fainted after arriving back here, and after I woke up,” I washed the Commander of the First Order’s hair and cried to his comatose body about how my life is falling apart, “I just had to know you were okay, so I visited you.”

“I don’t remember seeing you. I actually… How did you even know I had been admitted to the medbay?”

“You were asleep. I didn’t want to wake you.” You chewed your cheek, recounting any of those 48 hours made your pulse jump. “You weren’t well off when I found you, before they took you to the medbay, so I wouldn’t expect you to remember me being there.”

Her brow dipped for half a second, a crack creeping into that wall. “I didn’t know you found me. It’s difficult for me to even recall most of that day.” Her shoulders dropped, stature less rigid now. “Thank you, though.”

You nodded, not entirely sure why she felt it necessary to thank you. “Yeah. So, you were sleeping and I saw the tests ordered on your board. And then I found your ultrasound on the floor.”

Her eyes were so distant, pupils housing a familiar ghost. “It must have fallen when I was sleeping.” Her lips parted with the whisper, egregious loneliness overwhelming the thought.

It felt like the floor would fall out at any second, the interaction so fragile. Watching her with intent, measuring her reactions, you charged ahead into territory you’d been afraid to enter for so long.

“Talia,” you started, buying more time to think on your phrasing. Her focus startled back from wherever her mind had taken her. “I mean, maybe this is ridiculous, and maybe I’m so far off base in even suggesting it…”

Her arms dropped when a hand reached to tuck a collection of stray hair behind her ear, nose sniffing, teeth pulling at her bottom lip. She took her eyes from yours, breath picking up. That wall she stood behind was wearing.

You couldn’t stand beating around the bush any longer, sick of theorizing about it all. It fled out, no breath to separate any of it. “I’ll just say it: Hux was leaving your room when I came around. And he was being weird. So weird. I mean, he was being… would I say nice? Maybe just, less awful? He complimented me. And it was so weird, but I thought I would give him the benefit of the doubt because, you know, he’d just lost a lot of men. But then it was you in the room and I.. he was so distraught? That is barely the right word, but I mean? He just wasn’t General Hux. And then I found the ultrasound and remembered how you’d asked for ‘Armitage’ earlier when I’d found you, and-,”

A weep signaled the destruction of the wall she’d thrown up, hands clawing into her eyes and lungs heaving full of ragged, desperate air. “Oh, please tell me you didn’t tell him! He can’t- I don’t!” Sobs rolled off of her between each exclamation. “I haven’t told him. I don’t know how. I- he’s so evil! I can’t believe I ever slept with him!”

Seeing her come apart, feeling the guilt she did in every word she cried, you could only think to take her into your arms. In your hold you felt her shaking and the pain roll off of her in thick, grating waves. It was familiar, like she, too, had been existing alone; you had not noticed, so buried in your own avoidance that you had not thought to consider hers.

“I’m so sorry! I’m so- I’m so sorry! It makes me so mad that- ugh!”

“Hey, stop. Slow down,” you soothed, hugging her tighter. “You have nothing to apologize to me for. You’ve done nothing wrong, okay?”

“No, I have! I slept with my Master! And got pregnant! And he’s such a fucking jerk! He’s the whole reason you’re losing your career, you know? And I had sex with him! And I feel- felt real things for him!” A breath stuttered into her lungs. “I never meant for it to go any further than that first night, and then… fuck.”

It burned down to your marrow that you had the power to comfort her, knew everything she was feeling even if it wasn’t hatred that left you crying at night. She would be embraced in knowing you had also slept with your Master; it would minimize the guilt she now felt. To tell her you had fallen for Kylo Ren could help her know that she wasn’t alone.

Instead, feeling her tears accumulate on your sleeve, struggling to keep in your own, you kept quiet. She would not learn how you had burned so bright for your commander. It was selfish, but it was necessary. Self-preservation. She would be testifying against you, taking the stand right after Hux. Her not knowing would do no harm; it would keep her from having to consider or commit perjury. Talia now joined Mason, another soul to protect, another person you would lie to.

Several minutes passed before she stopped trembling, another few before the tears stopped staining your uniform. Humanity existed in these moments, and though you would hide how you knew the advice you would offer her, you knew she needed to hear it. A part of you did, too.

Moving your arms from her back and grasping both her shoulders, you locked eyes with her and forced her to see that you somehow understood her pain. “There is nothing to feel guilty about. Not that you slept with him, or that you got pregnant. Not that you felt things for him or that you still do.” Her eyes shut at that, a fresh streamlet dragging into her mouth. “You can still love him even if he has done awful things.”

“Gosh, how can you say that? He’s ruined your life,” she shuddered, grimacing before looking back up to you.

“I made the choice to take that blood. I had a choice,” your throat tightened, not knowing if you were reciting the words from their origin or from your dream, “I made the one I thought was the best at the time. Hux may be an ass in the way he has gone about the issue, but it’s not like he wouldn’t have reported me.”

She sobbed your name, confusion and hurt wrought in her features. “That blood saved that patient. You saved that patient. We both know that. You saved him and you’re suffering for it and I’m the one who wrote the incident report. He made me write it. Such a fucking bastard.”

Just like that, whatever weird internal truce you’d made with Hux disappeared. “Yeah, that is a dick thing to do, I will say that.”

She wiped at her cheeks, shaking her head. “I should have lied on that report.”

“And gotten both of us in trouble? That isn’t a solution.”

“If I had, you would be less alone in this. And I wouldn’t have to testify against you.” Talia’s eyes shot to the ceiling and back, frustration hot on her breath. “It’s just so-,”

“Unfair. I know. I have… I’ve beaten myself up about it too much not to know that.” This conversation was too similar to those you’ve held inwardly. It was becoming repetitive to keep sulking over something you could not change. But Talia, if she wanted, could change her situation. “We went through the same program, got the same schooling, I know you know your options here.”

She chewed her cheek, shaking her head. A long drag of breath found its way into her chest, releasing when your hands fell to your sides. “This is where you find out how stupid I am.”

It pulled at your heart to hear how hard she was being on herself. “You aren’t stupid. And if you are? Could’ve fooled me with your class rank and just general existence.”

A laugh, weak but not acrid. “Academics were easy. Career is easy. This life stuff? Messy. Complicated. I feel like no matter what I do, it will blow up in my face.” That earlier distance glazed over her stare, a glimmer of yearning present in the way her eyebrows pinched. “And what I want…think I want? I’m not sure it’s even possible.”

“What do you want?”

Talia shut her eyes, capitulation and indignance set in her features, jaw flexed. “I haven’t spoken to him since that night,” she whispered. “He watched me fill out that report. I was sobbing in front of him and he said nothing.” A hand smoothed over her hair and clutched into her bun, lips quivering for a moment. “I didn’t even know until last week. I woke up for a few minutes and they started talking about all that had happened – fainting and seizures and blood tests – and they immediately wheeled me down to have an ultrasound to confirm the hCG results and urinalysis.”

She paused, growing in distance the more she shared. “Was it just your electrolytes that caused the seizure?”

“Yeah. Yes.” She blinked back to the present. “Belkar actually said I was severely dehydrated and that my metabolic panel reflected that.” Talia was dancing between two timeframes; gentleness framed her face when revisiting that of the past. Something so delicate in her stare; adoration cusping on hope. “I always told myself I would never have children. It scared me seeing how sick they could become when we had our unit on pediatrics. I’d never wanted to feel so helpless as the parents I saw during clinical.”

It almost winded you to watch a single tear slip down her cheek, allowing her silence during her pause before she looked up at you, desperation drowning her eyes. She couldn’t find – or, maybe, did not want to believe – the words that overwhelmed her. “What changed?” You knew, but she needed to hear it for herself.

Her lips had become puffy, teeth pulling at the bottom one. She reached into the front pocket of her scrub dress, pulling from it that square print, only now with rolled, worn corners. “I know it’s early and there are so many things that can go wrong and I know I had been drinking before I knew, but…” A swallow bobbed her throat, a fond smile forming when she toyed with the scan. “When they handed this to me? Something just, I don’t know, came into view.”

A surge of immense pain coiled into you. In her reverie you saw yourself, realized how fortunate her situation was; she had something she wanted and even though it was complicated, she had a choice in the matter.

Again, her mind had wandered, distraction framing her tone; her brows pinched together for a second, a question sparking from her memories. “Have you ever wanted something so much, and maybe you didn’t fully understand it, but you just knew? For whatever reason, this was the thing you would do everything in your power to make possible? To have what you want, no matter how daunting or nonsensical it seemed?”

“Yeah,” you choked out, coughing against the new strain on your throat, “I think so.” Talia had that ability, though, and it cracked against your skull how helpless you were to go after what you wanted.

“You said that I could still love him if he’s done awful things,” she quoted, her attention returning to you. “I don’t love him. I don’t think I really know him that well. But…” She shook her head, shoulders shrugging and a puff of breath leaving her nose. “I miss him. It’s so dumb, but the bastard is nice to be around when he isn’t buried in politics. When he’s just a person. When he isn’t the General. When he’s just—” another smile, similar to her earlier one “—Armitage.”

“That has to be the strangest part of this whole thing.” A small laugh bubbled past your lips. It had been so long since the last one. “Armitage.”

“It was very odd at first. But I’m not going to cry out General, oh please General! when I’m cumming, so I got over it.”

Dumbfounded, all you could do was gawk at her candor. It warmed you, though, feeling like that first night you’d hung out with her. A good memory. Her cheeks pinked in your silence and the sight pulled you straight into a ruckus of laughter, tears – born in pain, falling from humor – and lightheartedness. It was short lived, but Talia joined in your fit; abashed giggles leaving her smile-tight face.

“I mean, I feel like it would be weirder if you were sleeping with Commander Ren.” Talia jabbed at your shoulder. “Calling him… Kylo? That just feels downright wrong.”

Instantaneously, your high fizzling into nothing before her, you found yourself right where you were when you’d said your first goodbye. Ky. It wilted your heart, shrouded whatever glimpse of happiness you’d just caught. Talia was too lost in the joke to notice you’d backed away from her, face turned so she couldn’t see the suffering rise to the surface.

“Ha, yeah. Wrong. So, so wrong.” You cleared your throat, brushing past the weak attempt at nonchalance, ready to be off this subject. “So you miss him? You miss… Armitage? Yeah, no. I’m gonna stick to Hux, if that’s alright?”

A final laugh lit from her chest, Talia waving you off. “That’s fine, of course. And yeah. I miss him.” Her brow furrowed. “Do you think it could work? Me and him, and—” she gestured down to her abdomen, placing the scan back in her pocket “—this?”

This was none of your business, and you doubted anything you could say would help her, but there was genuine curiosity in her voice. There was respect in how she wanted your insight into something so intimate and personal.

A sigh preceded your reply, unsure if you were speaking to her or yourself. “I think… Just as you said earlier: no matter if its daunting or nonsensical or even completely impossible – if you want it and you are willing to do everything in your power to get it?”

Hope lit behind her eyes, bloomed in her chest at the suggestion. “It could work.”

Struggle hid behind a mask of hope. Of course she did not know how it pained you to offer words that would never exist for yourself, and it wasn’t fair to ruin her moment of clarity with the bitter bite of ill-placed jealousy. There was no part of you that envied her condition, but instead what it entailed; you coveted her ability to choose the life she wanted.

Talia shook her head free, a giggle warm on her breath. “We should get out of here. Night shift is gonna run us off soon. You have the time?”

“Uh, not readily available. But I’m sure it’s way past shift change.” You started toward the door.

“Hey, I noticed you’ve been staying in the on-call rooms?”

“Oh.” It surprised you that she’d noticed. The knowledge warmed you to your core, both from embarrassment and appreciation. “Yeah, I know you guys have been swamped down here with all the fallout from Starkiller, so I just thought I’d stay near to help out.”

She tsked, your name a mocked plead. “You are Starkiller fallout. You need to rest. Especially now that you can. I got an update from Zag about the trial. You’ve got, what? Three or four days before Canto Bight? Seven until the initial hearing?”

She’d done the same math you’d gone over at length. Hearing it from someone else’s mouth made it that much more real. Frightening. “I know. I do, I know. But what’s wrong with spending them here?”

“You know as much as I do that working constantly drains the absolute soul from you. Even just working these past three days I have been dying for my time off.”

“Yeah, but you have a reason to be tired.”

“I’m pregnant. You survived a planet exploding all the while keeping the Commander of the First Order alive. Are you forgetting that?”

Talia, I wish I could forget all of it. “No, I’m just-,”

“And I know you’ve been blowing off that McCarty guy. He’s a physician, right?”

Maybe you’d been less discreet in your efforts toward avoidance than you thought. It felt like being caught; this web of lies was becoming a strain, less of a benefit, a hinderance rather than protection. “He’s… Mason doesn’t know what he’s asking for, you know?”

“No, I don’t know.” Talia strode to your side, stern eyes on your own. “Look,” a breath softened her demeanor, “whatever happened on Starkiller, whatever you saw or felt – it’s affecting you. I don’t know what it is, and I’m not asking you to tell me – though, you can tell me anything – but at some point it becomes a choice to remain stagnant in grief.”

“Hey!” Talia had always been blunt, but her audacity now clawed at your patience.

“Okay, sorry, yes that was very harsh,” she placed a firm hand on your shoulder, “but you are the one who made me realize that. Here. Now.”

Tears threatened but remained stuck in your throat. “Like you said, I’m alone in this. I have to be.”

“The way I see it, you aren’t-,”

“Talia, I am.”

“You aren’t. Me being here and that physician coming here every night is proof of that.” You met her with silence. She shrugged. “You could have left me to deal with my issues alone, but you saw me and knew I couldn’t.” More silence on your part, her stare flicking between your eyes. “I see you. You can’t deal with this alone. I won’t let you.”

You fought to hide them, but one by one fell the tears you had not permitted before. For so long it seemed you had been shielding others from hurt, ensuring a safety they were not aware they needed. Talia was offering that to you, now. Rejection was the first instinct to kick in, feelings of doubt and thoughts of I do not deserve this blaring in urgency.

But then she spoke, naming what you had been too scared to confront. “Choose to not be alone. It doesn’t make you a bad person,” her hand left you, overwhelming assurance in her smile, “You’ve been strong for long enough, for so many others. Let someone be strong for you for once.”

The next breath you took was a million times lighter than any you’d had since seeing Kylo those days ago. She really did see you, more than she could ever know. It was imperfect, of course; you weren’t sure anyone would ever be fully aware of how much pain you were in, there was so much you could never share. It was her offer that brought you solace; it may be superficial for you, but Talia was in your corner, and she believed, knew, that it meant something. In her eyes, pooled with intensity, you heard her loud and clear: that oath, born in blood, was renewed here and now, its strength indelible even in silence.

“Now,” she activated the door, its hiss shivering down your spine, “I think Mason would love it if you caught up with him.” The two of you stepped into the hall, already beginning to part paths. “I’d invite you to stay with me but I, uh…”

“You’ll be otherwise predisposed?”

“…We’ll see,” rose bloomed in her cheeks, “I don’t think I’ll tell him. Not tonight. Not yet.”

“Ah,” you sighed, a yawn slipping past.

“Get some sleep! And maybe just… get some, you know?”

The joke registered too late, her paces halfway down the hall before you called out, “Oh. Oh. No, I’m not with- we aren’t anything more than friends.” Not sure if she even heard you, she waved behind her before turning a corner. Well. That’ll need clarifying.

Heat flared in your cheeks, several pairs of eyes weighing on your shoulders at the outburst. Would there ever be a day when you were not embarrassing yourself on this unit? Given this would be the last shift before going to Canto Bight, probably not. Eyes tracking your steps, deciding to surprise Mason instead of call him, you found your way to the on-call room where your entire world was set up; remnants of a past one, at least.

In it you gathered your belongings – a pair of back up scrubs, a toiletries bag, and the lifeless watch. There was a hesitance before placing the device with the other items. Six nights you had spent staring at its blank face, resenting the stranger you’d come to see. Glancing your face before placing it in the bag, you did a double-take. In the most minute details, barely there, you found a familiarity in the eyes you met; they were less dull, something like life or light peeking through the surface.

You dropped the gadget into your pocket, gathered your uniform into the bag, and took a final glance at the shelter you’d sought amidst a storm that had nearly consumed you. Even though nothing had truly mended, there was comfort in the absence of solitude; in the face of probable death, the explicit knowledge that you were not alone made it less daunting. Less impossible.

A final breath brought the door to a close, footsteps leading you into the vast expanse of the Finalizer. The change in air was nice, lungs welcoming the difference and cluing you into the fact you still had a gauze square shoved up your nose. It took a tug to pull it from its place, a sting pinching at the sudden release of pressure.

“Shit,” you hissed, feeling a new stream of warmth trickle past your lips. Two fingers pressed to your mouth, testing for a mirage but coming back with the real thing, red creaks splintering into the ridges of your fingerprint. Without thinking you wiped it down your scrub top, forgetting you were no longer clothed in camouflaging black, but instead unforgiving grey. “Fuck!”

“Wasn’t this how I left you here the last time?”

The airlock must have snapped, lungs solid, muscles frozen. Tension seized your ribcage, pulse plummeting, blood bounding against tuned ears. Every bit of moisture abandoned your mouth. Every bodily process you could think of stopped.

There was no modulation, each word raw, bare, and clear as the last time you had heard their founder. At least, the last time you’d heard it while awake. It was less haunted now, filled not with insidious rage but rather bone-chilling earnest.

“I suppose not, given it’s your blood tonight.”

He drew nearer, boots heavy and steps paced to perfection, the rhythm of his stride an echo of your heart. Kylo Ren was less than three paces from you and all you could do was endure the sensation of a singular ruby droplet following the line of your artery, dragging past your clavicle, and ghosting the skin over your sternum. The crimson trail began to dry, steps no longer sounding when you forced yourself to look up.

Chaos tore into the base of your spine, every nerve ending firing at the sight of his bare face, no helmet to veil the visage you had memorized. The black strip rested in prominence, striking through his features; in it you found a curious attraction, finding it fit him. The wound was less severe now, healing with time. He wore no helmet, but that by no means meant there was no mask keeping him at a distance only he knew the measure of.

“Where have you been, officer?” Cyanosis was a likely reality, breath still evading you as each word fell in baritone; petrified pupils not knowing where to focus. “Your services finally required, and yet you were nowhere to be found.”

Nothing. No words. No sound. No thoughts. Barren in every aspect of cognizance, you remained silent and still, only knowing to perceive him for what he was: superior.

A twitch at his brow, a narrowing of his eyes. Studying. Testing. “How unfortunate; starved for words when they would actually count.” His injury moved fluidly against his words, a beauty in the way it ebbed with each syllable.

A ping sounded at your waist, commlink buzzing in your pocket.

Languid, Kylo’s eyes dipped toward the sound. “You should get that,” he drawled, eyes twitching before conquering yours once more, “could be important.”

His tone haunted you, demeanor too suggestive. You swallowed against a dry throat, locked in his stare, knuckles brushing your watch when you took out your commlink. It trembled in your grip, shocked muscles heavy with weakness. His concentration had become adamant, palpable, an eyebrow prompting your attention to whatever message had triggered the alarm.

Concerning the defendant,

In the week since the previous correspondence, it has come to be that the defendant is to partake in nursing practice during her time on Canto Bight. This allows the Board of Physicians ease in collecting surveillance imperative to their final judgement.

Commander Ren’s decision to bar the defendant from external practice has been nullified as to not contradict this process.

In permitting the defendant’s practice while on trial, the objective to obtain a new provider has been benched. Due to this, the defendant shall remain assigned to her current Master while residing on Canto Bight…

At last, breath flourished your lungs, an inadvertent gasp thrusting a glutton of oxygen into your airway. Crazed eyes darted over the message for any sign of a mistake that would prove it to be falsified; the only thing you could find was finality, a document containing the proposed schedule attached at the end of the message.

A buzz washed through your brain, overstimulated by the information, everything around you suddenly all too close and bright. Jaw bound shut but still trembling, eyes low and unfocused, a familiar pressure flicked just under your chin. The Force tipped your face upward, pupils strict in their position, passing first over a tense jaw and landing at last on the challenge that lay behind Kylo Ren’s glare.

“I’ll see you on Canto Bight, officer.” A serpentine smirk slithered along his lips, one stride bringing him so his face was hidden, shoulder linked with yours, and fingers jut out to graze at the hidden permanence atop your left thigh. His voice, an onslaught of emptiness, a cold threat, suffocated all that surrounded you. “You wanted to give me more? Prove it.”

[dirty-holy-things]

The Space Between (your heart & mine)

Chapter 14 has now been posted to Ao3 & Tumblr; see below. 

Catch up on chapters 1-13 on Ao3. 

Notes: 18+, Explicit. Previous chapters reference past trauma, canon-typical violence. Din Djarin x F!Reader. Smut, Oral - Male Receiving, Oral - Fem Receiving, Praise Kink. Author takes artistic liberties with the Force for the sake of story development. See chapter notes on Ao3 for references to SW content and topics. 

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You knew that you were past the point of no return. You knew that you were falling in love with this man, this faceless stranger that somehow seemed to know you better than you knew yourself; and you felt as though you knew him better than anyone else in this entire galaxy did. You didn’t need to see the face to know the man. You knew how the muscles and the veins in his hand flexed when his gloves came off, knew that he had curly hair, knew how he let the kid keep the small silver ball that had originally been part of the flight equipment of the ship. You knew that he slept curled tightly against you, wrapping his entire body around you protectively like a cocoon. You knew that a man who had built himself an impenetrable fortress out of beskar and isolation had chosen to let you and a small green creature in, to know him and care for him. The thought of all the years that he had been forced to spend alone made your heart sink, and you wished that somehow the galaxy could have brought you together sooner.

But you were grateful for every moment you had with him, even more grateful now that you had both survived what most would consider to be impossible. And now, you were safe, Din was safe. Your family was safe. What a beautiful feeling.

A note of love and thanks to @knivesareout and @soyelfuegoquearde​ for beta’ing this fic for me, and @bdavishiddlesbatch​ for her endless enthusiasm and support. 

“Actually, you said love, for you, is larger than the usual romantic love. It’s like a religion.”  - Richard Siken, Litany In Which Certain Things Are Crossed Out

The water of the fresher did eventually run cold, but it afforded you and Din both the time needed to recover from your respective climaxes and finish washing away the blood and dirt of the day. Your heart was still pounding at the thought of what had just happened here, in this small space; it was all of the fantasies that you had been hiding, covering up, locking away, finally coming to life. It was everything you had wanted, and it was fucking incredible. Din was fucking incredible. Your legs still shook as you climbed out of the fresher, drying yourself off before the dizziness and the exhaustion slammed back into you. You focused your breathing and energy, knowing that you would likely still need to help Din maneuver himself into bed. The two of you were quite a pathetic sight, having been completely wrecked in ways that you had never expected.

You had honestly been scared shitless when Din suggested you shower together. Almost as scared as you had been when you found him cold and unmoving next to his ship, his armored body looking broken in a horrifying and heartbreaking way. It had taken every ounce of energy you could spare to bring him back — you still remembered how the poison of the blade fought back against you, evading your attempts at healing as it coursed through him, being chased down by your desperate light until it was entirely eradicated from his body. You had been so terrified that you wouldn’t be able to save him, wouldn’t be able to bring him back — you would have poured your entire life into saving his, but for a moment you feared that even that would not be enough. Thank the gods that Din was just as much of a fighter as you though; and being on this planet, being attuned to the Force in new and stronger ways, you were able to catch a glimpse of how valiantly he had fought to stay with you. How he used your voice as an anchor to hold onto while the black waves tried to drag him away from you.

And as terrifying as that — what, thirty minutes? Could it really have been that short? — as terrifying as that period of time was, it was only marginally more intimidating and overwhelming than the offer of this new intimacy with Din. You knew that if you indulged him, indulged yourself, there would be no coming back from this. You wouldn’t be able to deny the desires of your heart any longer. You would let yourself fall for him entirely, trusting and hoping that he would reciprocate.

Gods, talk about some fucking reciprocation.

You had known from the very minute that Din had walked into your shop on Chandrila that he was fucking gorgeous underneath the armor. You knew that he was an incredible specimen, his body and armor a testament to every battle he had won and everything he had survived, making him stronger, more powerful, unlike any other man you had ever known before. And while you hadn’t known many men, you knew that Din was... above average, in many ways. You felt a shudder run up your spine as you thought of how he knew your body, knew your needs, almost immediately — as if he had known you his whole life. And while what he gave you, pressed up against the wall of the shower, your nails digging desperately into his scalp while you chased your high, was better than anything you had ever experienced — you still wanted more. Wanted to know how he would feel buried deep inside you, wanted to hear the sounds he would make, wanted to hear him call you his good girl. And you wanted to give him more, too— more than just your body, you would give him anything he asked for. You were a goner and you were entirely alright with it.

You knew that you were past the point of no return. You knew that you were falling in love with this man, this faceless stranger that somehow seemed to know you better than you knew yourself; and you felt as though you knew him better than anyone else in this entire galaxy did. You didn’t need to see the face to know the man. You knew how the muscles and the veins in his hand flexed when his gloves came off, knew that he had curly hair, knew how he let the kid keep the small silver ball that had originally been part of the flight equipment of the ship. You knew that he slept curled tightly against you, wrapping his entire body around you protectively like a cocoon. You knew that a man who had built himself an impenetrable fortress out of beskar and isolation had chosen to let you and a small green creature in, to know him and care for him. The thought of all the years that he had been forced to spend alone made your heart sink, and you wished that somehow the galaxy could have brought you together sooner.

But you were grateful for every moment you had with him, even more grateful now that you had both survived what most would consider to be impossible. And now, you were safe, Din was safe. Your family was safe. What a beautiful feeling.

Having managed to find your clean clothing in the dimly-lit cabin, you pulled on a soft shirt and loose pants; you thought of the grisly clothes that now littered the floor of the fresher, and knew that those items were absolutely done for. Curiously, you wondered where Din kept his additional clothing and supplies. Not wanting to disturb him, as he was still recovering in the fresher — unmasked — you figured that it was a small enough ship that you would be able to figure it out without much difficulty.

You were right, and after cracking open the third cleverly concealed storage area you were able to find men’s clothing. You grabbed pants, underclothes, and a shirt for him, not sure what he would want or need. You crossed back to the fresher, knocking gently on the door to alert him of your presence. “Let me know when you’re ready. I’ll close my eyes.”

You heard the lock on the door click and you shut your eyes tightly, adding a hand to cover them for good measure. You had no desire to peek, no impulse to steal a glance, and you didn’t want him to worry over it. You felt a hand reach out to grab your waist, pulling you back into the darkness of the fresher. You felt the warm and damp skin of his body press against your clothed one, and you had a very sudden and strong newfound resentment for the incredibly comfortable clothing you found yourself in. Swallowing around the lump in your throat, you held out the clothes in what you ascertained was his general direction. “I was able to find these. Your — your other clothes are wrecked.”

“Thank you,” he said gently, his thumb tracing slow and gentle circles into your hip. He kissed your shoulder lightly before letting you go and proceeding to dress himself. You heard the metal clanging of the helmet in the sink, and sighed as you knew it was time for him to put it back on. “Could —“ he started nervously. “Could you give me just a minute in here, alone?”

“Oh, s-sure, yeah, I’ll just go then —“ You sputtered nervously, afraid that you had done something wrong. Maybe he was upset that you went through his belongings, or regretted what you had done before —

“There’s... ah, well, the inside of the helmet needs to be cleaned.” He grasped the helmet in his hands and you could feel the beskar putting distance between your bodies. “There’s blood and who knows what else in it, and I don’t... I don’t want to put it back on.” He paused for a moment and your heart raced as you waited to see if he would add anything else to that sentence. “I don’t want to put it back on if it’s still a mess.”

You nodded to yourself, chastising yourself for reading way too much into something that was simply a matter of practicality. Of course he wanted to clean it up before putting it back on, why had you thought any differently? “I’ll be in the bunk, if... if you want to join me?” You resented the way your voice went up in pitch at the end, sounding desperate and childish. You couldn’t understand why you were acting so awkwardly, as if he had not slept next to you before, as if he had not become intimately familiar with your body. Why the sudden sense of shame?

“I’ll see you soon,” his baritone voice echoed, a promise that he would join you in the bunk. You loved how his voice sounded without the modulator, deep and warm and velvety, maybe just the smallest hint of spice and brusqueness. You could have listened to him forever.

“I’ll see you soon, Din.” You kissed his cheek before turning on your heel, closing your eyes and covering them with your palm as you stepped back into the lit cabin. You saw that the cradle was still floating undisturbed and were glad that the kid had managed to sleep through... well, everything. You didn’t want to have to try and explain anything that you didn’t have any explanation for. You climbed into the bunk, sinking into its cushions with a groan as your body realized it was finally was going to get the rest that it had been so desperately crying out for. You could feel the waves of exhaustion rolling over you and rocking you to sleep; you wanted to wait until Din joined you though, wanting to be able to say goodnight and maybe kiss him one more time, just to reinforce that what you experienced earlier was real — not some panic induced fever dream or hallucination.

After what felt like an eternity, you felt him climb into the bunk with you, wrapping his limbs around yours and pulling you into him closely. You sighed in contentment as you relaxed into his arms, his name passing through your lips ever so softly. You could tell that the lights were off, and you hoped that meant his helmet was off too — and when you rolled over and placed your palm onto his stubbled cheek, you smiled and leaned in for a kiss. He kissed you slowly and deeply, almost as if he was also trying to convince himself that this was real. “Goodnight, sweet girl,” he whispered softly, planting a gentle kiss onto the side of your nose as he had done once before. You laughed and kissed the side of his nose as well, before nestling your head into his strong chest and letting sleep overtake you both.

***

You awoke the next morning to the sound of Din snoring softly next to you, his arms holding you tightly against his chest as it rose and fell with each breath that said he’s alive, he’s alive, he’s alive. Yesterday was real, in all of its horrors and highlights, and yet you were both still here waking up in each other’s arms. You reveled in the sensation of him pressed against you, grateful for the small bunk that was only constructed for one person, as it meant you were as close to him as you could possibly be. You loved the warmth that he radiated, loved the smell of his soap on his skin, the small things that were so uniquely his, that only you would know. The cabin of the ship was still dark, so you felt comfortable with shuffling up to kiss his chin, his cheek, and the tip of his nose. Stopping mid-snore with a startle, his arms gathered you closely to him and his hands ran across your body, sighing in contentedness and not wanting to wake up just yet. Deciding to indulge him, you allowed him to sleep, and sleep eventually came back to claim you too.

***

You weren’t sure how much time had passed when you felt Din extricate himself from the bunk and begin redressing himself, but the light within the cabin that he turned on felt horribly intrusive as you weren’t ready to wake up just yet. You rolled over with a loud grumble, pulling the blanket tightly around yourself and stretching your body out to enjoy the newly opened expanse of the bed.

However, when you heard the entrance to the ship opened, you sat upright so quickly that your eyes and brain took more than a few moments to acclimate to the sudden change in latitude. Where was he going?

You weren’t sure if he was somehow able to read your thoughts now, but an explanation carried through the ship, the modulator hiding the voice you had heard the night before. “I’m going to load the quarry and then I’ll be right back.”

You nodded to yourself and laid back down, feeling more comfortable and secure knowing what he was doing. However, your comfort only lasted for a few minutes more as the sound of Din freezing the body in carbonite disturbed the kid’s sleep. You heard soft cries coming from the cradle and you sat up with a heavy sigh, dragging your hands across your face as you tried to dispel the last bits of sleep that were lingering hopefully. Standing, your legs felt marginally more stable than the night before, and you retrieved the crying kid from his cradle, bouncing him against your hip as you waited for him to fully wake up and calm back down. You bustled around the cabin in your sleep clothes, procuring something to eat for the kid and some water for yourself. What you wouldn’t give for a cup of caf at Aumiyat’s.

An idea came to you; Din didn’t yet know how you and the kid had spent your days apart. Maybe, if he could spare the time, you could introduce him to Ixxith and show off some of the talents that you and the kid had worked to develop. As you waited for him to return to the cabin of the ship, you wrung your hands nervously at this idea of sharing this with him, something that had been so repressed and private. After Grogu had finished eating, he trilled at you to pick him up and you got the feeling that he was wanting to show off as well. Setting your mind to it, you decided that you would make the offer to Din and let him decide.

He strolled back into the ship and began to make pre-flight checks. Stepping forward with the kid in your arms, you steadied your voice before speaking. “Grogu and I learned a great deal here, from a temple leader named Ixxith. We would like to see them again before we depart, if there’s time to do so.”

Your proposition was unnecessarily formal as Din only nodded in response, and waited for you to lead him to the temple. You grabbed a thick jacket, tucked a blanket tightly around Grogu; and  you noticed that Din grabbed what appeared to be a dense, grey woolen cape and drape it around his shoulders.

Mmm, broad fucking shoulders. Strong arms. Can pin me against the wall with those.

You shook the thoughts from your mind, trying to focus on the journey at hand. Din tapped a button on his vambrace that made the cradle follow next to him. “I need one of those,” you joked, reaching out to run your fingertips along the beskar. “Might help keep the kid out of trouble.”

“That would take a miracle.”

The two of you shared a laugh, knowing the story of the kid’s attachment to the shiny silver ball and the wampa toy you had acquired for him on Coruscant; his persistent and insistent curiosity certainly kept you all occupied. You stepped out of the ship and back into the world of the Bardottans that had brought you strength in your connection to the Force. You practically danced along the cliffside path, finding confident and sure footing with each step of the journey as Din moved along more slowly behind you, his steps more consciously chosen.

You ran up to the Bardottan woman who had set you on your journey, and smiled at her as you approached, Grogu cheering behind you. “Einama, so good to see you!”

“And you as well!” She smiled, coming over to hug you tightly. You didn’t think you would ever truly get enough of this, the physical touch and connection. Having been so isolated and rejected for so long, you felt as though the galaxy was limitless in its opportunities for connection, and you were incredibly grateful for it. “I see my green friend has returned as well. Don’t worry little one, I’ve got food to share if you’re hungry.” She handed the kid a leg of... something, and he began to tear into it excitedly, his razor like teeth glinting. That was the only intimidating thing about him. Einama turned to face Din, her eyes taking in the sight of his beskar and armor. “Mandalorian. We are grateful for your capture of the smuggler.”

Din shuffled awkwardly, and you suddenly realized that you were not all speaking the same languages; the Force had lent itself to an ability to easily understand and communicate in foreign tongues, but you were the only one here who could translate. “She said that the people here are thankful to you for catching the smuggler,” you said, having to concentrate on your words and the way your mouth formed them as you slipped back into Basic, realizing you would have to act as a translator for the group.

“You can understand her?” Din asked, his voice holding a mix of both fear and wonder.

You nodded, suddenly conscious of yourself and worrying that Din might feel uncomfortable with this. He stared at you, his visor focused directly on your eyes, and you felt your cheeks grow hot at your admission and sense of anxiety that he would somehow be upset with you.

“That’s... incredible.” He finally said, the wonder overriding the fear that had previously been present. “Can you understand every language?”

You felt the blood receding from your burning cheeks as you sighed in relief, thankful that he wasn’t upset, and also preening a bit because he seemed so impressed with you. The fearsome bounty hunter, with a jet pack and blaster, was impressed by you. “It depends on the language. We spoke Basic on Eadu, but when travelers came through I was always able to… understand the languages they spoke. Some are easier for me to speak and understand, but ones that I haven’t come across before take a lot more effort.”

“And you can communicate with her for me? As a translator?”

“Most likely. It’s hard to, sort of, manipulate the Force to allow me to jump from one language to another. But I can try.” You had never been faced with this prospect before, as this propensity for languages had been one of the many talents that you had kept to yourself. You had quickly learned that these intriguing abilities would attract attention, and that was something that had never done you any favors before.

Din nodded, trying to understand. “Can you tell her that I know where the smuggler was hiding the items? The ones that she hadn’t sold yet.”

You turned back to Einama and tried to recall the way that the Bardottan language had felt when you had spoken it before. It took some more focus, but eventually you were able to find the words again. “Einama, my companion knows where some of the stolen items are hidden, ones that had not been sold yet.”

She clapped her blue, webbed hands together in excitement and made noises that were unmistakably noises of joy — that was apparent regardless of language. “You should go to Ixxith. They will be very glad to hear this news.”

Turning to face Din, you relayed her request. “We’ll go on to the temple, to meet with the spiritual guide. They will want to know about the items, and Grogu and I can possibly show your some of our other skills.” You smiled at him, hoping that he wasn’t too uncomfortable with this proposition — you didn’t know much about the Mandalorians and their connections with the Force. He nodded and stepped forward, trusting you to guide him on this new journey. You hugged Einama one last time and whispered both a thank you and a goodbye before departing.

The path to the temple had grown familiar to you, despite having only been here for about four standard days. You realized that you would miss this place, knowing that Din’s work — and yours, too —would necessitate that you say goodbye to the two friends you had made here. Such is the life you had chosen for yourself; and while you knew that Din would not force you to go with him, you also knew that given the choice, you would not choose to stay here without him. That was a goodbye that you were not willing to endure.

Crossing under the great stone arch of the temple, you gazed up at the artwork that filled it, committing each new sight to memory. You felt the charge in the air around you as you stepped back into this place that had offered you new powers and strengths. Ixxith was once again meditating, hovering off the ground but swaying back and forth gently. They noticed your presence and stepped down onto the cool grey stone, a tranquil smile on their face as you approached. “I sense excitement within you,” Ixxith observed.

“My companion,” you began, gesturing towards Din, “has located the smuggler, and her store of stolen goods. He can provide you directions to them so they can be retrieved.”

“That is good news indeed. Have you come to tell us goodbye as well, seeing as the job is over?”

“Yes. But I would also like to show my companion some of my new skills.”

“Do you trust him?” Ixxith asked, and the bluntness of their question caught you off guard. You had never once questioned if you trusted Din; from the moment he had walked into your shop on Chandrila you knew that you could trust him. How thoughtful of Ixxith to ask this of you; sharing this progress was incredibly personal and revealing, and you appreciated that Ixxith was concerned enough with your wellbeing that they thought to ask.

You nodded at Ixxith, a wordless answer that still carried an enormous amount of weight. They nodded in response and extended his arm, an invitation to share whatever you desired. As you pondered what you would like to display first, you settled on something that Din had seen you do before so as not to scare him. You looked at Grogu, an eyebrow raised as you projected to him what you would like to do; he raised his little fists and grinned in excitement at your proposition. “Alright, so I’m certainly no Jedi, and I’m only able to do half of this stuff because I’m on this planet, but I wanted to show you a few things that I’ve been able to learn,” you babbled nervously to Din.

“You shouldn’t undervalue yourself like that,” Din said quietly, his voice only barely echoing across the polished stone walls. You felt yourself blush at his unexpected and public compliment, until you remembered that he was speaking Basic.

You smiled nervously at him as you took a few steps away from Grogu’s levitating cradle; reaching a hand out in front of you, palm open, you felt your eyes drift half-closed as you sank deeper into the radiating energy around you, feeling your grasp on it strengthen as you worked to manipulate it to your will. Through your half-lidded eyes you saw the kid rise up out of his cradle and hover steadily in the air; and curling your fingers back towards your chest, he moved through the air as though he was being carried until he landed squarely in your arms. As the weight of the kid landed against you, you felt a huge gust of an exhale move through you as your body worked to come back from that exertion. However, instead of that movement feeling like a marathon, it now felt like a warm-up. With each training, you grew stronger and stronger.

You waited for Din to say something in response, but you got no such reinforcement. Trying not to dwell too deeply on it, you placed the kid onto the ground next to you as he had an idea of something to share as well. Ixxith had picked up on the kid’s idea, and with a smile, they procured a piece of wood that had been set aside to keep the tall fire burning in the center of the temple. They placed it in front of the kid and you all stepped aside to watch what would happen next. You saw the wrinkles in Grogu’s forehead deepen with concentration, and you felt the energy around you shifting as Grogu pulled it and manipulated it, and then suddenly — the log burst into flames, yellow and red and orange that licked up the side of the wood, leaving black char and charcoal in its wake. “That was excellent, Grogu!” You said, praising the kid for his impressive feat. You had not yet managed that skill and had seen how long it had taken him to develop it.

Din still hadn’t commented on anything that he had seen. Maybe after having traversed the galaxy for years, he wasn’t as impressed by this show as you were. Or maybe he thought you were a freak, and he was going to sprint back to his ship and leave you here.

Ixxith’s voice carried across the temple to you, offering a gentle suggestion. “You worked exceptionally hard on another skill, my friend. I believe it would be appropriate to show this, and be proud of it. Few have been able to do what you have.”

Ixxith was right. Whether Din was impressed or terrified, you had still developed yourself and your strength in ways that you had never thought would be possible, and you would no longer live in fear of yourself or hide out of shame. Setting your mind to it, you prepared yourself for what was the most taxing task yet — cloaking.

Hiding yourself was something that you had gotten quite good at, after a lifetime of abuse and distrust and exploitation; so it came as little surprise that this was something you had managed to do. Settling your body against the cool stone of the wall, you felt Din’s gaze follow you. He hadn’t run away just yet, so that was a good sign. Breathing deeply, you sank back into the stone that supported you, and visualized yourself growing smaller and smaller, more and more transparent with each passing breath. You wrapped the Force around your body like a cloak, feeling the heat and the buzzing energy of it surround your body as you worked to influence its perception, so those who were looking at the wall saw nothing but the smooth expanse of stone.

Feeling effectively camouflaged, you sat with this feeling for a bit, understanding that this ability had been constructed on your need for survival. As a child, you repressed and cloaked your own talents, hiding them from the world and working to blend in; however, being so young, you were often unsuccessful or had less of a desire to engage in the masking that kept you safe. Unnoticed. As you grew older, all you wanted was to be able to fit in, to blend with the world around you and carry out your life unseen and without any attention. And as you found your uses within Orron’s world, you had continued to hide yourself in both old and new fashions. You continued to hide your expanding abilities from him, not wanting to be exploited or used in another manner, as you were certain that if he knew you could do more, he would force you to do more. You also worked to hide yourself from his blinding rage and had, on a few occasions, deflected or evaded some of his harsher blows.

You had already lived a life of forced camouflage, so of course you were able to bend it to your will now. It was a skill you had been developing since you were old enough to walk. At first you had been saddened to come to this understanding, but as Ixxith had coached you, you acknowledged the feeling, sat with it, understood it, and then turned your focus back to the present and the future ahead of you.

Feeling yourself grow tired at the exertion that cloaking required, you let go of your grasp on the Force that had blanketed you and kept you concealed. You saw a proud look on Ixxith’s face, a happy look on Grogu’s face, and... nothing from Din. No cues, verbal or otherwise. You felt somewhat deflated by this, as you had been hoping to impress him or at least help him feel more confident in your own ability to keep yourself safe. You pushed yourself off of the stone and walked back to the group that was waiting for you with varying levels of excitement. Din pulled a device from his side that projected a map of the planet, that highlighted an area that seemed to be several miles away from where you were currently located.

“Can you tell them that this is where the artifacts are hidden?” Din finally spoke, his voice giving you absolutely zero indication of what he thought about what he had just witnessed. You pursed your lips and nodded, feeling somewhat angry and resentful that you had shown something so deeply personal and had gotten nothing in return.

Trying not to dwell on that feeling for longer than necessary, you explained to Ixxith where the items could be found. They thanked you heartily, and then stepped away for a moment, only to return with a metallic cord that held a teal-colored crystal. It was a necklace, you realized, as Ixxith handed it to you. They hugged you tightly and thanked you for the shared information. “Take this with you, and do not forget what you have learned here. Do not forget me. More importantly, do not forget who you are, even if you are not sure who that person is just yet.”

You put on the necklace and thanked Ixxith again before turning to leave the temple. You were still upset with Din — he knew that you had been incessantly targeted and exploited for your Force abilities; and here you were, proudly showing him something that you had fought so hard to keep secret, and he gave you absolutely nothing. You knew that he was a man of few words, but this complete radio silence filled you with anger to the point your vision seemed a little bit red. Your footsteps carried you out of the temple as you assumed he would get the point and follow you, but the absence of noise caused you to pause for a moment as you stepped just outside the temple walls.

Not wanting to turn around and show weakness, you focused in on the sounds that you could hear within the temple, straining to understand what was happening without being able to rely on your sight. Suddenly, you heard a familiar Bardottan voice echo through the walls. And it was speaking... Basic. Not Bardottan.

“Your two friends are exceptionally powerful with the Force. There are many who will come looking for them. Are you prepared to keep them safe?”

Your heart raced as you listened further, needing to know how this conversation progressed.

“I am used to avoiding the eyes and the grasp of the Empire.”

“Ah, but it will not only be the Empire who comes looking for them. The New Republic, as promising as they may seem, seek to extend their power. I would hate to see them utilized for political gain.”

“How can I keep them safe?”

There was a long pause.

“I wish that I had an answer for you. Sadly, there are so few parts of this galaxy that have not been touched by political and religious ideologies that I fear nowhere is safe.”

You strained to hear the conversation that was growing quieter, trying to pull the sounds closer towards you.

“I would give my life to protect them.”

“I believe you, and yet let us hope that it does not come to that. You are strong in many ways, Mandalorian. Many ways that you may not yet realize.”

“Such as?”

“Something that is much stronger than even the Force.”

You and Din both waited for an answer, waited for the incredible insight that Ixxith offered.

“Love.”

[cutieodonoghue]

dark gray (4/?)

summary: Killian Jones operates a lighthouse in the middle of nowhere, preferring a life of isolation, until one day a woman and a baby wash up on his little island and change his life forever.

read it on: ao3, ff.net

and also catch up on tumblr!

///

Four

She curses him under her breath a half dozen times before she starts yelling obscenities in the middle of the living room.

He was right and she's not incredibly surprised by it, but she is still stubbornly frustrated regardless.

She stumbles to the couch and clutches at her leg.

The crack had been loud and out of nowhere. 

She'd been in the middle of getting back from the laundry line, having finished folding and putting everything back, intending on finding a new home for the clothes pins. And then it happened, sending her to the floor in an instant.

She's a little surprised the kid hasn't caught on to her distress. Henry is currently lying in his bundle of pillows dressed in a cloth diaper fashioned from one of Killian's shirts.

Emma whines. She's fairly certain she's re-fractured the break and now he's going to come back and have to reset it. Damn him.

The thing about her leg being broken is that it really, really shouldn't be. The old fashioned ship was an insane choice for a family cruise to begin with, and Emma getting flung like she was from her spot on the upper deck was an act of insanity, if not impossible.

She grits her teeth and struggles to lie down, biting her lip and cursing more. A part of her hopes he comes back because of the noise, but the other part of her wants him to never come back.

The door opens up, squealing on its way. It's a dramatic buildup, Killian walking into the room, and once he reaches her, he tilts his head.

He's standing there, all dashing and stupid, and she thinks he's savoring this moment.

"Shut up," she growls.

He smirks. "Do you need my help?"

Emma scowls, but then the pain makes her angry again. "Screw you."

He chuckles darkly. His eyes are alight with amusement. "I don't think now would be the time for that, love."

She rolls her eyes so hard she thinks they'll fall out of her head. "How charming. Just do it, you ass."

He slides her up the couch a little so she doesn't hit Henry, and just like last time, he doesn't warn her, and she screams. Emma growls at him when he backs off.

He stares at her for a second. "Better not get up for a while if you want it to heal properly, yeah?"

"And just how am I going to take care of Henry if I can't feed him or change him?"

He looks over at the lump by her feet and sighs. "Teamwork. I'll deliver your materials when he requires them and you'll do the work."

Emma rolls her eyes. "Fine. Whatever." Killian takes a step back. "What time is it?"

"Late."

He turns around and she watches him as he leaves the living room to go into the kitchen.

She scoffs, closing her eyes and draping her arm over her forehead as she lays back, settling into the cushions of the raggedy sofa. Henry fusses at her feet a moment later and she groans.

"Henry," she sighs. "Just for five minutes, can you not need something?"

It isn't fair that she's being tasked to take care of a kid that doesn't even belong to her. It isn't fair that she broke her leg and has had to get it reset twice.

It isn't fair that she's stranded on an island with this man who seems to believe that women are only good for cooking and cleaning.

She just wants to go home, to wrap herself up in a blanket and sit between her parents on their couch, watching some old movies while they discuss mundane crap. She misses talking about mundane crap. Who would've known?

Emma winces as she sits up, her thoughts of home weighing heavily on her chest, settling into the pit of her stomach anxiously. 

She misses home and she misses her family and friends. She misses Neal, of all people, and he isn't even someone she likes that much right now.

Somehow she manages to adjust so that Henry is cradled against her and she sighs. "Hey! Captain Hook! Get back here."

The boots clatter loudly against the floors and she hears him moving things in the kitchen. "Where the bloody hell did you put the bottles?"

Emma rolls her eyes. "Top shelf next to the sink."

She hears him yanking the door open and then he puts together the bottle noisily. The man has a nasty habit of being over-the-top loud and it annoys her so much, especially with a crying baby roaring in her ear.

"Hurry up, damn it!"

"I hear him!" the man yells, clearly just as perturbed as she is. "I bloody well hear him! Bloody woman!"

She sighs as she rocks Henry a bit to get him to calm down. He doesn't.

By the time the idiot comes back into the room, she has no patience for anything and yanks the bottle from him hastily. He goes storming off immediately and she hears the front door squeaking open and slamming shut, making her roll her eyes again.

"Yeah, thanks for the help, you jerk."

Emma turns her attention to Henry and successfully gets him to eat and fall back asleep within a matter of twenty minutes. She leaves the bottle on the floor and curls up on the couch as much as she can, closing her eyes and listening to the world move around her.

It’s raining.

She hears the steady threshing of the rain against the roof and a dribbling sound from somewhere she's sure she'll discover in the morning. The night is dark and when it starts to thunder, she's instantly reminded again of the night she was tossed from the ship.

It's chilly in the house so she tugs at her blanket to trap the body heat closer. Maybe she would feel better if she and Killian weren't so horrifically opposed to one another. Maybe she could let herself rest and get comfortable.

But instead, she dwells on the fact that he is a man with his own set of ideas and plans, plans that she interrupted when she washed up on his island.

It isn't her fault that the ocean brought her to him. It isn't her fault that the ocean brought them both this child to take care of.

She wonders briefly what she'll do with him when she gets back to Maine. If she gets rid of him, he'll get sent into the system and-

Emma sighs, shaking her head. She'll find him a home with someone. Maybe her parents would want him. They couldn't have children. This could be a second opportunity for them.

With a little hope blossoming in her chest, Emma turns her thoughts to Neal, to the complete asshole that he is, and tries to justify her answer to him.

He says he's sorry for what he'd done when she was younger. It had been a mess. She'd gone to jail for him. She can't trust anyone, especially Neal. But it's not like she can push him away. He's trying and that's something at least.

A short while later, the front door opens and shutters closed.

She hears Killian huffing and wiping his feet on the rug, then she thinks he takes his boots off, because he comes walking into the living room quietly. He's dripping wet when he squats down in front of the sofa, her eyes wide at the sight of him.

Beside him, he has a wooden something- what she isn't sure.

"I wanted to apologize," he tells her softly.

She can tell he's telling her the truth; his eyes are steady and unmoving and his words don't tremble in the way they might if he were lying. He's cold, clearly, and soaked, which explains the small chatter in his teeth and the wavering in his tone.

He takes a deep breath before he continues, "I've treated you poorly since you've woken and it isn't at all how you should be treated."

Emma blinks at him. She doesn't know what to say, if she's supposed to say anything at all. He's actually being… sweet and it confuses the hell out of her.

"Thank you for cleaning this place. I, um, I've let it fall to pieces a bit and I appreciate what you've done to bring it back to livable standards."

Her heart rate quickens at his words and an unfamiliar feeling of gratitude befalls her. She is appreciated. She is wanted. Her actions have not gone unnoticed.

"You're welcome," she manages quietly.

He smiles softly. "Perhaps we should agree to be civil, yeah? Four weeks is quite a bit of time if we're going to treat each other like we have been."

Emma laughs breathily, drawing his smile up a little.

"And if I'm anything, I'm a gentleman, so I want you and Henry to take my bedroom. I've made Henry a cradle so he doesn't have to be buried in pillows any longer. I'll sleep on the couch."

Emma opens her mouth. "What? No, it's fine. I'm-"

He sets his hand on her shoulder. "Come on, Emma, I've treated you poorly and I'm trying to make it right. Allow me this, at the very least. You'll only be here four weeks and I've got the rest of my life to live in that bed."

Emma frowns a little at that, but accepts with hesitancy, sitting up and taking his arm when he offers it to her. They move slowly to the bedroom and he helps her into the bed, covering her with blankets. He sets a fire in the fireplace and then brings the wooden something into the room.

It's a cradle, she realizes, and it makes her heart melt.

Killian stares at the cradle for a moment and she can tell he's thinking deeply about something, but he shakes it off and goes to get the child.

She knows it's not his specialty, carrying and caring for Henry, she knows because he'd been practically yelling at the little boy when she'd first discovered him. So to see him carrying Henry makes her heart warm because she knows he doesn't want this.

Maybe it's his fear of dropping him; a purely male instinct. Maybe it's because he has a hook for a hand. Maybe it's something else entirely, but to see him trying is something she thinks is a rare sight and she takes it in for all it's worth.

Emma helps him settle Henry down on the bed with his bundle of blankets and pillows, holding him in her arms while Killian lowers the little boy into the new cradle.

He's pleasantly asleep; blissfully unaware of anything that's transpired.

"Sleep well, Emma," he says. "I'll be in to help when he stirs."

"Thank you," she says, voice laced with more than just a thank you for helping with Henry.

He stares at her for a moment, then nods once, lips pressing into a line.

He leaves her room with a softened pace, shoulders set in a less angry way, and she releases a sigh, closing her eyes.

It's as if her silent prayers were answered. The man takes a walk in the rain and comes back a renewed person.

She's thankful for whatever it is that got into him, though, and presses her nose against his pillow, breathing in the scent of sea and a little bit of cinnamon, something she supposes must be ingrained in the sheets, because it's his smell and she just washed these today.

He smells okay, she guesses.

/

Killian feels something heavy in his chest. Change.

As he walks through his living room, Killian goes to the bookshelf in the wall and his fingers dance over the leather binding of his favorites. He considers reading because he knows he won't be able to sleep through the night on the sofa, but he decides against the novels.

His attention goes to the television against the wall and he grimaces, taking his fingers through his hair.

In that moment, he recalls Emma telling him about the shortages of food and he finds himself just curious enough to go investigate. Not to his surprise, he discovers the pantry re-organized, tidied, and cleaned.

"There's not enough," he murmurs to himself on a grimace. "Bloody hell, there's not going to be enough."

There's a small stash in the lighthouse, but considering he spends a good deal of time picking those food items off when he hides out in the lighthouse, he figures there's not half as much as there was at the start.

It is in this moment, as he's standing in the pantry studying the shelves of canned food, that Killian resolves to go hungry in order to keep Emma and Henry alive.

[the-silvr-speedster]

The Totally Crazy Adventures of the Astro Ambassadors

After they return from their six-month mission in space, Daisy, Daniel and Kora want just a bit of peace and quiet before they are shipped off on another space adventure. But Mack has other plans for them since they are needed for one more short mission. However, things might not go according to plan and without the extraction team, they have to rely on a teleporting device they’ve never used before.

Chapter 1: Just One More Adventure on AO3 or tumblr

Chapter 2: Welcome to Berhert on AO3 or tumblr

Chapter 3: The Taste of the Pristine Nature on AO3 or here ↓

Hi guys! I hope you are having a nice week despite all the stuff that is currently going on in the world. Anyway, here is another chapter that will hopefully help you get away from the reality for a little while. So sorry I didn't upload it yesterday but I was dealing with some work-related problems for the past week. I hope you'll enjoy this.

Sorry for any mistakes.

It was a hot sunny day. A light breeze was grazing the treetops of the forest. The peaceful rustling of the leaves was accompanied by a variety of animal sounds, ranging from a soft chirping and whistling to a loud screeching that carried through the forest. All the animals were minding their own business, whether it was a search for a suitable tasty lunch, a cleaning after devouring their prey, or a nap in the shadows cast by the huge trees that blocked the piercing rays of the midday sun. A small rat-like mammal sauntered its way across a small clearing and disappeared under a tree trunk.

Suddenly, bright blue light spread from the middle of the clearing and startled a flock of birds sitting on a nearby tree. The fading light revealed three figures standing in a circle around a spherical object, clearly confused by their surroundings, as could be judged by their perplexed expressions.

“Where the hell are we?” Daisy asked, frantically looking around. “This doesn't look like D.C.”

“Well, we all did think about Earth, didn't we?” Daniel spoke up while running his hand along the trunk of an enormous tree in awe.

“You guys said to think about home,” Kora spoke up from her crouched position, examining the soil.

Suddenly the trio was interrupted by a loud screeching from somewhere in the treetops.

“What was that?” Kora jumped up ready to fire an energy blast.

“I have no idea. But it definitely didn't sound friendly,” Daniel said quietly, quickly pulling out his gun from the shoulder holster and aiming it into the tree.

“Where…where’s Daisy?” Kora asked, alarmed.

Daniel spun around to look at the place he’s seen Daisy standing just a minute ago, panic filling his mind. But before he had a chance to call out her name -

“Uhm…guys?! You better see this right now,” Daisy called from somewhere behind the nearby bushes.

Daniel and Kora shared a relieved look before walking in the direction of Daisy's voice. Daniel held up some branches blocking their way and motioned for Kora to walk first before casting one last wary glance in the treetops and followed after her.

They found Daisy standing in a large hole. At least it looked like a normal hole at first but then their eyes scanned its shape and met Daisy's panicked brown eyes.

“Is that...” Daniel started but let it hang in the air.

“A footprint?” Kora piped up.

“Yeah. A really huge one,” Daisy nodded and curled her hand into a fist.

„It looks like it's from…a very big...reptile.” Daniel carefully stepped into the footprint inspecting every curve imprinted in the ground. He stopped at Daisy's side and took her hand in his in a calming manner. She loosened her fist and let him intertwine their fingers. He wasn't sure whom that gesture was supposed to calm more, Daisy or himself.

“Daydra...she said that...that the device is extremely sensitive so we have to give it a very specific command with our minds.” Daisy looked at him while a shiver ran down her spine. Something went very, very wrong.

“I thought of Earth,” Daniel said with a shrug.

“That is not very specific. I thought of HQ in D.C.” Daisy spoke up turning to face Kora.

“What? As I said, I thought of home.”

“Kora...that's...” Daisy ran her hand down her face with a sigh. “Which home?”

“Just home. Uh...but then...” Kora mumbled and the color drained from her face as she came to a realization.

“Then what?” Daisy barked out, her voice coming up a few octaves.

“I... I thought of the Afterlife in my original timeline and mom...” Kora carefully looked up at Daisy who was looking at her incredulously. She threw her arms up and started to pace around agitatedly. “I just got distracted by the memory, OK?! I was trying so much to concentrate which was really hard with the soldiers coming for us!”

“Kora,” Daniel said warily as he exchanged a worried look with Daisy upon hearing some rustling in the bushes behind Kora.

“But I was so nervous about the whole situation and...” Kora ignored him and continued in her rambling.

“Kora! Be quiet!” Daisy whisper-yelled at her.

“...I didn't want to mess up...”

The bush behind Kora parted and an animal with the size of a large turkey emerged out of it. Its body was covered in feathers and it had an elongated head, a long tail and a big claw on each hindfoot. Its yellowish eyes scanned the scene in front with curiosity.

By then Kora finally noticed the warning glances Daisy and Daniel were sending her and slowly turned around to face the curious animal. Her eyes grew wide upon seeing it and she started to back away, slowly raising her hands in case she had to blast it away.

“What the hell is that?” She whispered when she reached her teammates. “Is it a bird?”

The feathered animal emitted a screeching sound exposing the row of sharp teeth in its maw.

“Or a reptile?” Daniel whispered back.

Daisy swallowed hard as a thought occurred to her. “Or both.”

Daniel gave her a questioning look but they were soon distracted by the animal which now clearly lost its interest in them, probably by considering them to be too big to be a potential lunch. It screeched again and disappeared into the bush.

“I hope it didn't go fetch the reinforcements,” Daniel noted and turned towards Daisy while his gun remained securely in his hand. “What did you mean by it being both a bird and a reptile?”

Daisy looked at him in thought, then she scanned the flora around them again. Her eyes landed on a huge tree-like fern towering above them and then looked past it, deeper into the forest.

“I think we are on Earth, after all. We all thought of it. But we didn't think about the same location or...time for that matter,” she looked pointedly at Kora.

“Hey! It's not-”

“Shut it!” Daisy sighed, frustrated. “I think the device got confused by that and we ended up here.”

“Where is here?” Daniel asked apprehensively, not really wanting to know the answer.

“In the past. But the very, very…very far past. God…I think we are in the age of the dinosaurs.”

“But that was hundreds of millions of years ago!” Kora spoke up in shock.

There was quiet among the teammates while they let the words sink in, leaving only the sound of the breeze rustling the leaves around them and the distant cries of some animals.

“We can just jump out of here right now, no problem,” Daisy pointed out, seeing their panicked faces. “Let's just use the device again.”

“Okay. Let's get back to it.” Daniel snapped out of the shock first and led the way back to the clearing they arrived at.

“This time we just have to think about the exact same location and time, understood?” Daisy ordered, looking behind her at Kora pointedly. Her sister seemed rather quiet now but nodded in understanding. Daisy was about to say something else when she suddenly ran straight into Daniel's back.

“What the...” She looked at him confused as he stood there frozen and then followed his line of sight until-

“Where is it? Where is the device?” She asked anxiously, stepping on the clearing, looking around.

“It was right here.” Daniel pointed at a small dent in the ground before crouching down inspecting it. “Are those claw marks?”

Hearing that, Daisy joined him on the ground. “You want to say…that thing took our only way out of here?”

“It did look like a big egg,” he noted with a sigh.

Daisy plopped down and ran her hand through her hair agitatedly. A humorless laugh escaped her lips, her eyes fixed on the dent in the ground.

Daniel put his hand on her shoulder and squeezed lightly before he sat down too, his eyes never leaving her face.

Kora remained standing nearby, looking at her feet with slouched shoulders.

“We are screwed.”

  Tracking the bird-like dinosaur through the prehistoric forest turned out to be pretty hard to accomplish. The three agents were walking in line, sending cautious glances in all directions. Daniel took the lead, searching for more claw marks to point them in the right direction, Daisy was trailing behind him, not saying much, and Kora was last, her previous panicked expression transformed into one of awe as she took in everything around them. They were running high on adrenaline, easily startled by unexpected noises from bushes or fern growth around them.

“We just need to find a vantage point and assess the situation from there,” Daniel said with a sigh when they took a short break after two hours of unsuccessful tracking. They lost the last tracks a while ago in a particularly thick part of the undergrowth.

Kora was sitting on a fallen tree trunk, her leather jacket placed between her and Daisy. “Great. If only it wasn’t that hot,” she groaned, her previous excitement long gone, as she wiped the sweat from her forehead. “How is it gonna help us, huh? Even if we find…I don’t know…a cliff or…a suitable tree to climb up to, all we are gonna see is just more trees…but this time from above.”

Daniel sighed, his right leg placed on a tree stump, and looked at Daisy. She was leaning her elbows on her knees and her face was hidden in the palms of her hands. She took off her gauntlets and the jacket of her suit which left her only in a black tank top. Daniel’s forehead wrinkled in worry at the sight of her. She was uncharacteristically quiet.

“We should find some water first,” he suggested. The heat was wearing them down too quickly and the last thing they needed was to get dehydrated. “Maybe we’ll get lucky and find our thief there. There must be a small stream or a river or something.”

“Yeah…but also…I don’t want to catch some prehistoric bug from unfiltered water,” Kora mumbled.

“You weren’t concerned about catching a space bug from unfiltered water when we were on Orilia,” Daniel pointed out with a raised eyebrow. “Would you rather get dehydrated?”

“No,” Kora muttered and stretched her legs.

“Dais? You OK?” Daniel leaned closer to her and brushed his fingers along her forearm tenderly.

Daisy took a deep breath and looked up at him with a ghost of a smile. “I’m fine.”

“Are you ready to go?” He asked her softly, searching her eyes for an honest answer.

She gave him a small smile and nodded, standing up from the tree trunk, dusting off her trousers from dirt and pieces of plants.

“But he doesn’t ask me if I’m ready,” Kora mumbled under her breath.

Daniel sent her an amused look. “Are you ready, Kora?” He asked her with a grin and offered her his hand.

“No, I am not,” she told him and accepted his help. “But let’s go anyway,” she smiled as Daniel pulled her up. She took her jacket and fastened it around her waist while Daniel shifted his attention towards Daisy again. Kora looked at her sister in thought. She wasn’t herself and of course, Daniel could sense that something was bothering her. So, she decided she should give them some space to talk it out. “I can go first this time,” she offered.

Daniel gave her a grateful smile. “OK. Try to listen for any signs of water and watch out for insects, the more of them the closer the water source is. The same goes for animal tracks,” he informed her.

Kora nodded, thinking. “So, which way?”

“Well, we are on a slope and the water runs downhill…”

“Yeah, right,” Kora sighed, doubting her decision to lead them.

“You’ll do just fine, Kora,” Daniel assured her. “Just follow ditches or valleys. We want to find running water, less chance of bacteria in it. And…we are right behind you.”

“Fine then. Let’s go,” Kora announced with fake excitement. “If I was annoying feathered little shit who stole an egg-like object, which way would I probably go?” She asked herself quietly and choose the less steep way down.

They walked in silence for a couple of minutes, each of them lost in their own thoughts. Kora looked behind her from time to time, to check on Daisy and Daniel, but kept her eyes on the ground most of the time. She put on a brave face when she volunteered to lead them but in reality, she was freaking out. A little. The silence was unnerving. What do people say when you are going on a hike in a dense forest? Don’t go alone and don’t be quiet. You don’t want to surprise a bear and get attacked. Somehow, she doubted the same worked for dinosaurs. But who can say what works for them and what doesn’t? No one has ever met a living dinosaur before. She swallowed. She really didn’t want to be the first one to meet a giant one.

Suddenly, she felt a pinch on her forearm. There was a really big mosquito, just casually taking a sip of her blood. Kora sighed and fried it on the spot using her powers. Not a minute later, there was another pinch on her shoulder. She cursed and fried that little bastard too. A thought occurred to her then. Mosquitoes equal water. They must be getting closer to a stream or something. She stopped for a while and listened. She couldn’t hear any sounds of running water so either there must be a lake or a pond or the mosquitoes prefer small dents in the trees filled with water. She scanned the ground for any tracks. She found some smaller ones in the mud and there seemed to be some kind of a path. If animals frequent this way, it has to lead somewhere, she thought.

“Have you found anything?” Daniel spoke from behind her, curious.

“Maybe,” she mused. “Come on, we’ll see soon enough.”

Daniel watched as Kora walked further away before he and Daisy followed after her. They walked side by side, their hands brushing from time to time. They were both on high alert, casting worried glances into the dense undergrowth but for Daniel, the thick foliage wasn’t the only source of his worries.

“So, what period do you think we traveled to?” He asked Daisy casually.

“I have no idea,” she answered briefly, looking sideways.

“I hope it’s not like in those movies you showed me,” he muttered, hoping to get her talking more.

“The Jurassic Park series?” She let out a small laugh. “No, they exaggerated quite a lot in them. Many dinosaurs didn’t look like they actually did in reality. Some were made bigger, scarier. Like the one who stole the teleporting device. I think it was a raptor. I’m not sure, though. In the movies, they were much bigger. Featherless. But some…were pretty on point,” she sighed and looked behind them.

“What do you mean?” Daniel asked hazily.

“I mean…if we are indeed in North America as we wanted to be and not…Asia, thanks to Kora, there is at least one dinosaur I’d like to evade. Well, depending on the period we are in. That one is as scary as it was in the movies. I’m getting goosebumps only from thinking about that one,” she ran her hands over her arms in a nervous manner. “I’m not even gonna say its name out loud. I brought us enough bad luck as it is.”

Daniel sighed. “So, that’s what this is about, huh?”

“What?” Daisy looked at him, confused.

“You being all quiet and…resigned,” he explained with an edge to his voice, staring intently at her. “You are blaming yourself for this mess, once again.”

She remained silent, not even looking at him. He took that as a confirmation. Her long locks were falling into her face, hiding her sad expression from him.

“Daisy,” he sighed and took her hand in his. “You’ve got to stop doing that every time something goes wrong.”

“I am the team leader, commander of Zephyr Three. There is no one else to blame but me,” she burst out, locking her eyes with his as she stopped walking. “I am…not a good leader, Daniel.”

“Where is this coming from? Daisy, you are a great leader. I’d follow you anywhe-”

“Yeah, but you are not being objective. Neither is Kora so don’t even look at her,” Daisy told him raising her voice, taking her hand from his. “How many times the mission went to hell in the past six months? We were given this big responsibility, exploring space, being emissaries, finding new allies. How many times we almost started a war instead? One time is too much.”

“Daisy-”

“No! Augus was right!” Daisy called out raising her hands in defeat. “One does not simply bring a weapon of mass destruction to a meeting about alliance!” She sighed and shook her head. “Did I just use that meme quote from Lord of the…” she mumbled to herself. “You know what, whatever. Look at this,” she motioned around them frantically. “This is probably the biggest mess so far. And it happened all because of me…again. I’m just…tired of not being good enough,” she confessed and that defeated tone in her voice hurt Daniel more than anger would. She turned away from him and ran her hand through her hair frustratingly.

But Daniel was having none of it. He was angry. He didn’t even know at what or who. Maybe the anger was directed at everyone who has ever made Daisy feel less of a person. Or at the universe that kept hurtling disasters at them even in the time when they should be happy and enjoy a few quiet moments together. He knows that Daisy has these moments when she doubts herself. After every failed mission. She keeps it to herself so no one would see her like that. But he does, and he is always there to remind her who she is. He’ll never stop doing it.

He saw Kora leaning against a tree further away from them, with a pained expression on her face. They were both hurting for Daisy. She gave him a nod and disappeared behind a big fern to give them more privacy.

“Daisy, look at me,” he told her with a soft but urgent voice, and turned her around, keeping his hands on her arms. “Human or inhuman, we all make mistakes. We all blame ourselves for them but what you are doing… It’s not right. You are blaming yourself for mistakes that are not yours, for problems that you had nothing to do with or decisions that you weren’t a part of.” He raised his hand to wipe away a tear that escaped her eye.

“But-”

“No. You are gonna let me finish without cutting in. I have a whole speech ready,” he said with a smile.

Daisy chuckled and sniffled.

“The incident with the handshake on Vorix was my fault, not yours,” he squeezed her shoulders to emphasize it. “When someone hates Inhumans, that is also not your fault. Neither is this mission,” he assured her and moved his hands to hold hers. “Firstly, we were following Mack’s orders. Secondly, Augus came to the meeting with the sole purpose of disrupting the alliance. And thirdly…you can’t possibly blame yourself for using an alien teleportation device for the first time and messing up. So…don’t doubt yourself. You are the most capable person I know.”

“That was a different speech than the last time,” she told him with a raised eyebrow, a small smile playing on her lips.

“You know, I have to change it from time to time, so it doesn’t get boring. And also, I need to address the newest problem that led us to have this conversation in the first place,” he grinned at her, his hand gently cupping her cheek.

Daisy leaned into his touch and closed her eyes for a moment. “Thank you.” Then she closed the short gap between them and got lost in his warm embrace.

“For what?” Daniel asked quietly, placing a kiss on her forehead.

“For being my light in the darkness,” she mumbled, hiding her face in the crook of his neck.

Daniel smiled, content in their small moment. “Always.”

Suddenly the nearby ferns parted and super excited Kora jumped out of them. “You guys, I found water!”

Daisy yelped and automatically took her fighting stance and Daniel pulled out his gun from the holster, both looking extremely alarmed and ready to fire.

“No need to be this hostile. I’ll show you where it is out of my own free will,” Kora muttered teasingly with a satisfied grin on her face.

“Kora! You almost gave us a heart attack!” Daisy yelled at her younger sister.

“Nah, you are safe. The grandpa next to you should be more concerned,” she remarked and turned on her heel. “You coming or what?”

“I swear to God she’s the worst,” Daisy said while Daniel just laughed.

  It didn’t take long for the three agents to reach the water source Kora’s found. It was a smaller stream that was flowing into a bigger one a few hundred meters further down the hill from where they stood. The water was crystal clear and the thought of finally quenching their thirst made the agents excited. Daisy kneeled on the ground and cupping her hands scooped up the water. Daniel did the same while Kora watched them, with a smile.

“Tasty, right?” She spoke up, amused.

“Refreshing,” Daisy said with a content sigh, splashing some water over her face, too.

“This is probably the best water, I’ve ever drunk,” Daniel informed them, scooping some more water to drink.

“Well, no pollution, just pristine nature. No wonder it tastes like heaven,” Daisy commented.

“We should come up with a brand name and use that as a slogan,” Kora chuckled. “Hmm…how about…Jurassic Spring, no pollution, just the taste of the pristine nature.”

“Or…Jurassic Spring, the true taste of the prehistoric forest,” Daisy added with a wide grin.

Daniel smiled at the sisters, shaking his head slightly. “Have you ever wondered what the prehistoric forest feels like? Try Jurassic Spring. No pollution, just the taste of the pristine nature.”

“Oh, you win, Danny-boy. You just came up with the whole commercial,” Kora laughed and high-fived him. “We should start our own marketing agency.”

“Yeah. Galaxy-wide, ideally,” Daisy joked, now sitting cross-legged on the ground. “Astro Ambassadors – Galaxy at your fingertips.”

“Wow. That actually sounds great. We could use it as a side job to earn more money,” Kora mused, already imagining it. A few seconds later she was brought back to reality by a splash of water from her sister. “Hey!”

Daisy chucked and pointed towards the stream next to her. “You are not thirsty?”

“I’ve already had some,” Kora shrugged as she stepped closer to the water. “But I might as well have some more. We don’t know when we find another stream.” She crouched down and dipped her hand into the water. After a few refreshing gulps, she looked conspiratorially at Daisy and grinned, splashing twice as much water on her as she did on Kora.

“Kora!” Daisy yelled, standing up from the ground, ready to quake the whole stream at her sister.

“Do you hear that?” Daniel cut in, suddenly.

“What?” Kora asked, confused.

“Exactly,” Daniel noted, looking at her with worry.

Daisy listened carefully to their surroundings but didn’t hear anything unusual. Well, except-

“It’s too quiet.”

She felt it at first. A shiver running down her spine and the feeling of dread settling in the pit of her stomach. The quiet around them getting even more pronounced. She looked around cautiously. Daniel and Kora stood behind her, doing the same. Time seemed to slow down…

Then she heard it. A deep throaty drumming sound coming from the direction they came from. She looked up into the nearby undergrowth, and when she finally saw it, masked among the huge leaves, her heart stopped for a moment and her eyes widened in fear. She swallowed hard and forced a breath into her lungs, frozen in place. Judging from the lack of sound from her teammates she assumed they saw it too. She felt like a deer in the headlights. Unable to think or act. Her mind was totally blank, void of any thought.

If you asked her later, she wouldn’t be able to tell you what happened first. Maybe it was Daniel calling her name, pulling her backward, and shouting something at her. She couldn’t comprehend his words. Maybe it was the enormous beast emerging from its hide, its huge teeth coming closer towards them. Maybe it was Kora’s scream. Or maybe it all happened at once.

She only knows when she finally came to her senses. Gauntlets. I need my gauntlets. She saw them next to the stream, they were getting further away…no, she was being dragged further away from them.

“It’s too late for that! We need to move!” Daniel called urgently into her ear.

Did she say it out loud? She wasn’t sure, she was still a little dazed. But as she watched as a huge foot stomped on her gauntlets and saw the snap of those big jaws she was brought to her senses completely.

Suddenly a huge ball of energy hit the dinosaur into its side. It emitted another deep throaty sound but otherwise looked unharmed. Just pissed off.

“I think you made it worse!” Daniel called to Kora and started to run along the stream, dragging Daisy with him.

The creature started to chase after them. Well, not exactly chase per se. It was more like fast walking as Daisy observed. However, with its long legs, even its walking was as fast as their running.

“I don’t think we are gonna outrun it!” she exclaimed fearfully as they ducked under the fern growth. The animal just stomped right through it without a sweat.

“Do you want to fight it, then?!” Kora asked breathlessly.

“Maybe I can slow it down,” Daisy replied and send a quake towards the beast. It stopped for a moment, shocked, then shook it off and followed after them again. Daisy groaned and sent another, much stronger quake at it. She hissed as a pain shot through her arm. The dinosaur lost its balance and sprawled on the ground, headfirst.

“Nice,” Daniel commented and pulled at Daisy’s arm to get her moving again.

“Where are we even running?” Kora spoke up, exhaustion seeping into her voice. “I don’t think I can keep going like this for too long.”

“Neither can I,” Daniel huffed. “We have to come up with a plan!”

They looked briefly behind them. The dinosaur was back on its legs and getting closer to them.

“On second thought, running seems like a good plan,” Daisy commented as a group of smaller feathered raptors came running out of the bushes.

“They run faster than us,” Kora piped up when a bunch of them ran past her.

Daniel stopped to catch his breath, massaging his right thigh. Daisy sent another powerful quake, toppling the beast to its side. They were now in the wide open. Next to them, the small stream changed into a river and a grassy field laid ahead of them, only small patches of trees here and there. Not many places to hide in.

“How’s your leg?” Daisy asked worriedly, placing her hand on his back.

Daniel just waved it off and motioned towards the scrambling animal. “Is that what I think it is?”

“A T-Rex?” Daisy asked, breathing heavily. “Well, considering the tiny arms, huge teeth, and the overall size of its body…I would say that yes.”

“I wouldn’t think it’s going to have feathers on the top of its head,” he remarked as he straightened up.

“I wouldn’t think I am actually gonna come face to face with it in the first place, yet here we are,” Daisy sighed. “The only good thing is that now I might know in which period we are.”

“Maybe it’s a good thing, but it’s totally useless,” Kora grumbled with a mixture of emotions in her voice.

“Let’s just hope the asteroid is not gonna hit the Earth today. That’s all,” Daisy muttered lightly as she sent another quake at the T-Rex. “But with our luck…”

Kora’s face paled a little. “What?!”

Daisy was about to bite something back when her eyes caught a reflection on a metallic object, not so far from the angry beast. “That can’t be…”

“What?” Both Daniel and Kora asked at once.

Daisy thought back on the animals that ran out of the bushes after getting startled by the big raging monster. Only now she realized that some of those looked exactly like the one that stole their teleporting device.

“Guys, look!” She pointed towards the metallic object on the ground.

“Oh my God,” Daniel breathed in disbelief and turned to look at Daisy with hope in his eyes.

She gave him a big smile in return and squeezed his hand. “We can go home.”

“Not if the Godzilla here crushes it with its foot,” Kora spoke up alarmed, as the T-Rex took few more steps towards them, coming closer to the device too.

“We need a plan,” Daniel said.

“There’s no time for that,” Daisy told him and started to walk towards the enormous creature. “We have to split up. Divert its attention.”

Daniel wanted to protest but he knew very well that there was no stopping her now. “So, I’ll guess we improvise.”

All three of them ran towards their impending doom, hoping they survive it. Daisy’s eyes were fixed solely on the prize – the device. Daniel pulled out his guns, not being sure if they’ll do any damage to the beast at all. Kora looked the T-Rex over, searching for a vulnerable spot where her blasts would hurt the most. The problem was, the animal was not only hungry but after being quaked to the ground multiple times, it was now full of rage.

Daisy almost reached the device when the dinosaur took a big step in her direction and its jaws clicked just a few inches from her head while she dived to the ground, ending the fall with a roll. She ended up in front of the device and grabbed it securely in her hands. Only then she realized that she is also right under the beast, which turned its attention towards Kora and her energy blasts. Daisy yelped and rolled away from her place, narrowly avoiding being crushed. She scrambled to her feet, preparing to throw the device to Daniel when she got hit by the T-Rexes tail. It sent her flying through the air and she landed hard on the ground. She groaned and rolled onto her back.

“Daisy!” Daniel called as two shots were fired.

She looked up to see the beast turning its attention towards Daniel, instead of her. The device was nowhere near her. She realized that it must’ve got knocked out of her grasp.

“I have it!” Kora exclaimed, running to Daisy’s side. She helped her stand up.

Daisy assessed the situation in front of her. “Whatever we do, it’s just pissing the T-Rex off more.”

“I know.”

Daisy sent a quake towards the beast again, aiming for its legs. It toppled over. Without her gauntlets, she couldn’t risk going full power on the creature. There were already some bruises visible on her forearms.

“Daniel! Come here!” She called to him, keeping an eye on the T-Rex. “We just need to distract it for long enough to get out of here,” she told Kora.

“What do you have in mind?” Kora asked when Daniel finally got to them at the same time as the animal stood up, its jaws snapping angrily.

Daisy crouched to the ground, placing her hands down into the grass.

“Whatever you are doing you better do it fast!” Daniel urged her impatiently.

She felt the vibrations of the soil first and then she went deeper feeling the rock. She concentrated her powers on it while trying to limit the vibrations in her arms. The ground started to shake. When she heard the crack, she smiled, turning her eyes towards the approaching dinosaur.

“Daisy! It’s coming in hot!” Kora yelled, clutching the device for dear life.

With another much louder crack, the ground opened in front of them and the surprised animal fell into the rift. Daisy straightened up and dusted her trousers.

“You guys OK?”

Kora was looking at her incredulously. “You couldn’t have done that earlier?”

“You know, it’s kind of hard to think when someone is scared out of their mind,” Daisy stated and reached for the device. “Now let’s get out of here.”

The agents stood in a circle again ready to jump away, listening to the rumbling sounds of the trapped dinosaur. The rift wasn’t too deep, so eventually, it was going to get out. They definitely didn’t want to stay long enough to see that happen.

“I hope it’s not broken,” Daisy mumbled scanning the sphere for any damage, missing Kora’s panicked expression. “We have to concentrate on the same place, don’t forget that. HQ is probably the best bet.”

“On three?” Kora asked.

“Fine,” Daisy mumbled as the blue lines appeared on the sphere.

“One.”

She looked at Kora encouragingly.

“Two.”

Then her eyes met Daniel’s and she let out her breath shakily.

“Three.”

Everything disappeared in the blue light.

End Notes: Did they finally manage to get home? Ehehe, I am not going to make it that easy for them. More adventures await. Speaking of...now is your time to give me ideas. I have a few more chapters planned and I know where this is all going (since I've already finished one of the two/three last chapters) but there can be more adventures in between. So, if you guys think of any time periods you would like to see them in and any characters for them to interact with (from Marvel or just the history), feel free to write it in the comments or send me an ask or a PM. The sooner the better.

This chapter was really fun to write, even if it took more time than I thought. I did a lot of research, learned some new things about T-Rex, Velociraptors, and the Late Cretaceous period. I read in an article that the sounds T-Rex probably emitted might've been similar to those of Emu. So, that's how I put it in the story. Also, the adults probably had feathers on their head and tail and were completely covered in them as young hatchlings.

Anyhow, that's enough of my rambling about Dinosaurs. See you guys next week and please leave kudos or reblog this. Stay safe!