#you don’t understand how excited i am to see galaxy’s edge

[pedrito-friskito]

so I’m leaving for vacation tomorrow!!!! so so so excited (going to disney and seeing galaxy’s edge for the first time and I am HYPED. also building a droid and I’m probably gonna cry about it)

that being said, obvi I’m not gonna be super active

I will be posting a few chapters of my already written bucky fic (it’s currently in ao3 but I wanna bring it over here) 💕

my ask box is OPEN for requests, fic questions, general wonderings, what have you ☺️

I’ll probably end up posting one or two new things cuz I have a few days with some downtime, but I’m not bringing a laptop with me so it’ll be mobile writing 😅

I’m planning something (I think) pretty fun for when I hit 200 followers 😇 tbh I had no idea what kind of response I’d get coming back to tumblr and the reaction and comments I’ve got have made me so happy omg omg please don’t ever stop I LOVE IT LOVE YOU ALL ♥️

that’s all I got I’m too excited to sleep so there might be something posted in a couple hours we shall seeeeeeeeeee

[starsinmylatte]

Nightcall

Pairing: Thrawn x afab reader

Rating: Explicit (Very 18+)

Word count: 2.4k

Warnings: established relationship, edging, praise k!nk, very slight dom/sub undertones, interspecies relationship

Summary: Reader has had a VERY long day, and Thrawn is away from the Chimaera. Or is he?

Author's note: Hi! I'm finally starting to post fics to Tumblr again. I've been away for a bit, but I am very excited to write more. All my stuff is also on AO3 here! Any comments or reblogs are always greatly appreciated (seriously y'all leave the sweetest comments and it makes my day). Have fun reading my first ever attempt at smut and lmk if you'd like to be added to my tags <3

Today had been hell.

Thrawn had departed the Chimaera days ago to handle some business on Coruscant, and, as usual, Konstantine was using his absence as an excuse to be a massive pain in the ass. The Grand Admiral relied on you to help keep order just as much as he relied on Eli Vanto, but he was currently as busy as you were. So, the ever-glamorous job of making sure the Seventh Fleet remained in orbit mainly fell to you.

It was the fifth day Thrawn had been gone, and you were already fantasizing about throwing Konstantine out of the airlock. It would undoubtedly save the remnants of your sanity. He usually wasn’t blatantly insubordinate, but today he seemed to make an exception.

“I simply don’t understand why the Grand Admiral is insisting on holding this formation,” he exclaimed. “We should be chasing the rebels back to their base by now!”

Another headache was definitely coming on. I swear on every star in this kriffing galaxy…..

Your reply was icy and tinged with frustration, “Konstantine, if you wish to question the Grand Admiral’s tactics, you are more than welcome to discuss it with him when he comes back. Until then, we will be following the orders he left us with.”

He momentarily met your piercing stare before realizing any further arguments would be futile.

“Fine. I do believe I’m needed elsewhere,” Konstantine huffed as he departed the bridge.

For the first time in hours, the bridge was blessedly silent. You sank into a chair, rubbing your temples. Kriff, I definitely feel that headache now….

A sudden hand on your shoulder made you jump. You were so distracted that Eli might as well have materialized out of thin air.

“Hard day?” The corners of his mouth twitched as he attempted to stifle his amusement. “I heard you gave Konstantine a well-deserved earful.”

You rolled your eyes at him, “Next time, it’s your turn. This is my fourth headache in the past five days.”

“Why don’t you take the rest of the afternoon off? You’ve been working harder than anyone else on the Chimaera for days.” He lowered his voice before adding, “He should be back soon.”

A wave of relief washed over you at the news. You and Thrawn had gone to great lengths to keep your relationship secret from the crew, but Eli was too good of a friend to be kept in the dark. Besides, he would’ve noticed eventually that his two best friends were slightly more than friends.

Eli must’ve noticed the change in your expression, “Oh, you definitely need a break.”

He shoved a datapad in your hands and started pulling you to your feet, ignoring the numerous protests you gave him. “Here, take this to Thrawn’s office, leave it on his desk, and then you’re taking the rest of the day off. No arguments.”

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

Thrawn’s office was its usual freezing temperature. Even though your uniform had layers of thick material, the chill was easily seeping through them. Shivering, you placed the datapad on the large desk in the back of the room.

You turned to leave, but a pang shot through your heart as you looked around the empty room. It was normal for you to barely see Thrawn on the days he was especially busy, but it was always different when you knew he wasn’t on the Chimaera at all. Stars, you missed him when he was gone. Just knowing he was nearby on days you couldn’t see him was so comforting. “Soon” wasn’t a good enough time frame for when he’d return.

A sudden thought crossed your mind; nothing was stopping you from spending the night in Thrawn’s quarters. It wasn’t exactly an unusual occurrence for you to sleep here, and it would be comforting. Besides, with your headache, you didn’t exactly feel like walking all the way back across the ship to your room, and his private quarters were conveniently connected to his office.

You began stripping off your uniform as you walked into the room and made your way over to the bed. It was still freezing, but every layer you removed took the worries of the day with it. Soon, everything except your bra and panties sat neatly folded on the bedside table. In this moment, you weren’t an Imperial officer; you were a woman climbing into her lover’s bed for comfort after a long day.

As soon as you slid between the soft, black sheets, you instantly received the comfort you were craving. They smelled exactly like Thrawn, crisp and clean, but with a unique depth cut by the citrusy scent of his favorite tea. You could almost imagine that he was actually there beside you. A contented smile crossed your lips as you drifted off to sleep.

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

You suddenly woke to a light caress on your cheek. In your groggy state, you didn’t fully realize what that touch meant until you leaned into it. You would have probably fallen back asleep were it not for the low, pleased murmur that followed your actions.

“Apologies, ch’eo bat in’a, I did not mean to wake you, but I was not expecting to find you here.”

Your eyes flew open in shock as you sat up and gasped, “Thrawn!”

The low light in the room illuminated the regal form sitting beside you on the edge of the bed. Thrawn’s usually unreadable expression was one of slight amusement mixed with another, softer expression. You couldn’t help but notice his beautiful azure-hued skin and luminous ruby eyes were only complemented by the dimmed light; you couldn’t help but think he was meant to be seen like this. He must’ve been tired from the constant travel, but nothing in his posture or expression gave it away.

You didn’t wait for him to speak again before reaching over to embrace him. Thrawn immediately wrapped his strong arms around your waist and pulled you in tightly. Pressing your face into his chest, you quietly murmured, “I missed you.”

He said nothing, so you assumed he didn’t hear. You both sat contentedly for a few minutes and savored the intimacy before he moved one hand to stroke lazily down your back and the other to run through your hair. As you leaned further into his touch, he grabbed your chin and turned your head so he could press his lips to your ear.

“You are quite endearing when you’re half-asleep. It’s beautiful,” he whispered.

The praise combined with the sensation of his warm breath in your ear finally did you in; a flame began to spark to life in your core. You had missed him, and every single part of you was screaming for you to let him know just how much.

Before you could even move, Thrawn trailed his lips down to kiss your neck, and the flame in your core blossomed. You let out a quiet, breathy moan, and he immediately stopped.

Bringing his lips back to trace the shell of your ear, he rasped, “Oh? It seems you did miss me. How fortunate that I was able to return to you already in my bed.” He paused to lightly trace the outline of your bra before continuing. “And in something so pretty too. A shame that it will soon be discarded.”

You whimpered at his words as his lips renewed their brutal assault on your neck and upper chest. For what seemed like an eternity, Thrawn was content to lavish affection on the spots that provoked the greatest responses from you as his hands held you in place.

“Thrawn, please…. Touch me….” you begged, hoping desperately for him to comply.

He merely let out a dark chuckle as he chided, “Patience, ch’eo ch’itiseb, for every protest that leaves your pretty mouth, I will be sure to make you wait even longer.”

You bit back a moan at his sinful words; his eyes seemed to glow even brighter, and his smile turned feral. The look he gave you in return was simply predatory.

He continued to suck hickies into the sensitive skin at the base of your neck and around your collarbones. His tongue licked a long, torturous line up the column of your neck to kiss the area under your jaw. With every kiss, caress, and touch, the flame in your core spread throughout your entire body. He bit down on the juncture of your neck and shoulder, and you melted even further into his arms.

“It seems you were able to learn an adequate lesson in patience, so now we may continue. Turn around for me,” he ordered.

You turned to face the wall as he returned to his previous position at the edge of the bed. He trailed his hands up your waist and around to cup your breasts. Thrawn may have decided that you could have more of his touch, but he still refused to dip his hand under the lacy fabric of your bra. Instead, he teasingly rubbed over the material to brush against your nipples. Your head fell back to rest on his shoulder as you pushed your chest out into his hands, still desperate for more.

“How very, very eager for my touch….” His tone was still infuriatingly collected for how quickly he’d reduced you into a moaning mess, but a slight accent began to mar his words. “Ch’itses’o euhn ei.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, Thrawn unfastened and discarded your bra. Finally, he wrapped his hands entirely around your breasts. The sharp contrast between the warmth of his body and the room’s icy air only intensified the pleasure as he began to roll your nipples between his fingers.

You couldn’t help but moan his name again, loudly. Thrawn’s breath hitched before he let out a low, breathy moan, “Bun vn’inen’i. Let me hear you.”

His voice had always been profoundly attractive, but hearing him murmur filthy sentiments into your ear in his native tongue made you absolutely melt. You let out another gasp and rubbed your thighs together, seeking any friction you could find, keenly aware of the desire beginning to pool between them. In your desperate search for friction, you accidentally rubbed your ass back against him and felt his growing erection.

The contact made Thrawn hiss. In one fluid motion, he flipped you around, pushed your back flat against the mattress, and leaned over you.

It was moments like this when you remembered you were in the bed of one of the most powerful men in the galaxy. Thrawn’s ruby eyes glowed with lust as he gazed down at you. His feral smile returned as he studied his prize. “Allow me to show you just how much I missed you.”

He trailed kisses from your breasts down to your inner thighs, nipping at them slightly, then stopping to look up at you as he reached your panties. “These must go,” he murmured against your thigh. Thrawn took the band in his teeth and began to tug the panties off, using his hands to remove them fully.

Finally, you laid before him completely bare, and once again, he paused to appreciate your body. “Simply beautiful,” he cooed.

Thrawn returned to kiss your inner thighs before he spread your legs further. He moved to kneel on the floor at the side of the bed and pulled your hips to the edge. You knew exactly what was coming next. “Oh….”

You barely had time to moan before he swiped an experimental finger through your core. Under any other circumstances, you’d be embarrassed that you were already so wet, but Thrawn lit a fire in you that no one else could. Now it was his turn to let out a low groan at his discovery.

He didn’t waste any more time before moving one of his long fingers to lightly trace around your entrance. The torment of his delicate touch made you rock your hips upwards, desperately begging for more contact. Without warning, he pushed two fingers deep inside you, making your walls clench hard around them. You moaned and begged for more as he began to pump them in and out of your drenched core, causing your legs to shudder in pleasure.

“Look at you, I’ve only just started using my fingers, and you’re already shaking,” Thrawn groaned.

He brought you right up to the peak of pleasure before suddenly withdrawing. You sobbed in protest as he brought his fingers up to your mouth. “Clean them off,” he commanded. Hoping that he’d finish you off if you complied, you obediently took his fingers into your mouth and sucked all your juices off of them.

Thrawn was very pleased. He moved back down between your thighs and sucked another hickey on the delicate skin before returning his attention to your core. He slowly circled your sensitive clit with a finger before licking his way up to suck on it. Once again, he continued his attention until you were at the very edge before withdrawing. Being edged once was hard, but the second time left you an absolute mess.

When Thrawn looked down on you, covered in his marks, eyes glazed over in lust and absolutely begging for completion, he lost the remnants of his control. He leaned back up to murmur, “Ch’eo ch’itiseb, how would you like me?”

“Stars, Thrawn, I don’t care. I just want you inside me now,” you moaned back at him as you reached up to help tug off his remaining clothing. After a few moments, he was also completely bare and leaning over you on the bed again.

With how desperate you felt, any time at all was too long, but your pleas and cries finally turned into more gasps and moans of pleasure as he finally lined his thick cock up with your entrance. The feeling of being so gloriously stretched and filled as he pushed in made your walls clench around him. Thrawn moaned at the sensation and began fucking you at a leisurely pace.

He leaned in to capture your lips in a burning, passionate kiss as his thrusts grew faster and your hips rose to meet them. His hands roamed your body, finding their way to pinch and tug at your nipples. You moaned into his mouth as you grew closer and closer to the high you’d been chasing all night.

Pausing between kisses, Thrawn suddenly grabbed your chin and stared into your eyes with his burning red ones before returning to kiss you hungrily. The unspoken message was clear: you were his. This new intensity, combined with his thrusts that came faster and faster, finally sent you over the edge into a shattering climax. Thrawn’s thrusts grew more and more erratic until he finished soon after you, coating your walls with his seed as he came.

As you both lay there in the afterglow, Thrawn mused, “I may have to find an excuse to be gone more often.”

Tags: @pretty-with-andorian-shingles @mittheresabosen @handbaskethell

[darthkruge]

Could you write a cute sequel to the Padawan! Anakin and Padawan! Reader oneshot, where they have a secret wedding two years later?

Anakin Skywalker x Reader ~ Can I Kiss You? (Pt 2)

Summary: Two years after their first kiss, Padawan!Anakin and Padawan!Reader return to the gardens of Naboo for their wedding

Warnings: Nothing. Once again, this is fluff. A bit more emotions thrown in this time, but cute fluff nonetheless!

Words: 1.6k

A/N: I can’t believe someone requested a sequel for one of my fics!! That’s so exciting!! The first part is one of my favorite fics I’ve ever written and I hope I did justice with the second <3. Also! You don’t need to have read the first part to understand this. But I do think it makes it more fun, as I kinda tied them together :)

Part 1

gif credit

“Can you believe we made it?” 

Anakin’s voice broke you out of your trance. You were sitting on the grass and leaning against him, head resting on his shoulder with his arms hugging you from behind. The palace’s gardens once again surrounded you; the familiar fresh, flowery scent intoxicating. 

You hummed, turning your head up and looking at him. He looked down at you and smiled. 

“Hi,” His voice held his laughter, teasing.

“Hi,” You replied, mirroring his happiness. 

You connected your lips with his, both of you grinning into the kiss. His metal hand came up, fingers gently holding your jaw as he deepened the kiss. Your mind wandered, remembering your first kiss. Here. 

You were pulled back to the present as his tongue gently swiped across your lower lip. You opened your mouth slightly, allowing him access. As he swirled his tongue around yours, your head spun. Your hands wove into his hair and pulled on the back of it lightly, making him groan into you. You smirked, loving the effect you had on him. He grabbed your waist, pulling you around so that you were straddling his thighs. You broke from his lips, trailing kisses up and down the side of his neck. 

Missing the feeling of your lips, he pulled you back up, reconnecting them with his own. You kissed and kissed and kissed until you couldn’t anymore, breaking apart only once you were positively breathless. You leaned your forehead against his, chests heaving as you relaxed.

“We’re gonna be late for our own ceremony if you keep distracting me like that” 

You lightly smacked his chest, throwing your head back and gaping in mock-offense. “Now who’s the one that shoved their tongue down my throat?”

“Well I guess that’d have to be me… considering you haven’t kissed anyone else…” He trailed off, looking at you somewhat sheepishly to gauge your reaction

“Anakin! That is rude! And unkind! And completely accurate, you kriffing asshole!” You said, laughing the entire time. Anakin joined in, sighing in relief when he realized you weren’t mad at him. 

“Rude and unkind? I’d say that’s slightly dramatic, Y/N”

“And where do you think I picked up the dramatic flair, hmm?” You shot back, quirking your eyebrows and glaring at him playfully.

Anakin rolled his eyes but, intelligently, didn’t argue. He just chuckled, pulling you back in for another kiss. You obliged but quickly pulled away, laughing as he pouted at you.

“Now, come on! We’re going to be late for our own ceremony if you keep distracting me like that!” You said, mocking him.

You got up and started skipping away before he could retort, smiling as you heard his footsteps scrambling to catch up with you. He pulled your hand into his, leaning down to press a fleeting kiss against your cheek. 

He pulled you forward and you laughed as he stopped to spin you around. Your breath caught as you felt yourself tripping over your own feet and squealed as you came in contact with Anakin’s strong chest.

You buried your face into him and he rubbed up and down your arms. As he peppered kisses into your hair, you did the same on his collarbone. Moments like this were what you wished you could live in forever. Just two people in love. Without the pressure of the Jedi, the Council, any of it. You wished you didn’t need to hide your relationship, your happiness. But you truly believed that any sacrifice would be worth keeping Anakin in your life. 

It had taken months of planning to even get the time to slip away with Anakin. Luckily, the Council thought you and Anakin worked well together and frequently allowed you to go on missions together. Granted, you both usually ended up in front of the Council trying to justify why you disobeyed their orders on these missions. Even if it was your idea, Anakin would always try to take the blame, despite you constantly telling him it was unnecessary. However, Anakin did have a point when he said that he was the Chosen One; they wouldn’t expel him from the order because of a series of poor decisions. He said that even if you didn’t have the Council’s protection, you could count on his.

To be fair, he wasn’t wrong. That’s why those fights never lasted. Most of your fights were like that. Silly, stupid arguments that almost always boiled down to the fear of losing each other. And, by the next morning, you were always curled back in bed together, unable to bear the idea of being apart. 

“Y/N?” 

You looked up, shaking yourself out of your own head.

“Yeah?”

Anakin looked at you quizzically. “You alright, my love?” He asked, concern evident in his voice.

You nodded. “Perfect.”

You were about to marry the most perfect man in the entire world. Kind, beautiful, giving, protective, understanding, flawed, yours. As if “perfect” even began to describe how you were feeling. You weren’t sure anything could. When you joined the Jedi Order, you never thought you’d get this. Love. And yet, here you were. 

Anakin leaned in, kissing your nose. “Me, too,” He whispered in your ear.

You walked up to the secluded altar where Obi-Wan, R2D2, and C3-PO stood. You thanked the stars for Obi-Wan; he had done so much to ensure that your secret stayed that way and you could successfully marry the love of your life. 

You stood, looking at Anakin. He held your hands and you gave his a squeeze. It was a signal that had developed over the years; whenever one of you needed reassurance or just wanted to remind them that you loved them, you’d squeeze the other’s hand. As per usual, he immediately returned the gesture. 

Obi-Wan cleared his throat. “Y/N, would you like to go first?”

You looked at him, mouthing a quick “thank you” and nodding. He smiled right back. Obi-Wan had become a good friend of yours over the years. You were quite grateful that he was here on this wondrous day. 

You took a deep breath, looking into Anakin’s deep eyes. “Anakin, when I first met you I thought you were reckless, arrogant at times, insubordinate…” You trailed off as he gave you an amused look, clearly wondering where you were going with this. 

“Gorgeous,” You added in, “and, truly, so much more. Now, while I still think of you that way, I’ve grown to love it. You inspire me, you believe in me, you understand me in a way that I thought was impossible for one person to understand another. You’re strong and loving and you always keep me safe. You make me laugh and smile and giddy and… happy. I still remember, two years ago, when you made me choke an apple and kissed me, all in one day. And that feeling I had when our lips first touched, it has remained, constant, since that moment. I want to spend my life with you. And I don’t want to put that off for another second.”

Anakin’s eyes were misty with tears by the time you finished speaking. It was hard for him to fathom -- that he’d found someone who cared about him that much. For once in his life, he believed that there was someone who wouldn’t leave. 

Obi-Wan gave Anakin a knowing smile before asking him to begin.

“Honestly, I don’t know what I did to deserve you. You’re perfect, you’re… everything. You challenge me, by the Maker, you challenge me,” Anakin said as you chuckled, nodding in agreement. “And you’re strong and good and selfless. You’ve always seen the good in me, sometimes even when  I didn’t deserve it. You sought to know me for who I am, not for what I could bring to the galaxy.” Anakin paused, looking into your eyes. He swallowed, long and hard, before going on. 

“And I know this wasn’t the relationship you dreamed of. I know I can’t give you much of anything. But I promise that for the rest of our lives I will be right here, by your side. I will love you for as long as this life allows, and for a thousand after that.” 

Tears streaked down both your cheeks, making everything else fade away. The weight of his words sat heavily on your heart; his love for you so powerful it was nearly overwhelming. But that seemed to be a theme in your relationship, didn’t it? Everything right on that edge, so close to falling apart. And yet you and Anakin balanced each other. You wouldn’t crumble. 

You once again traveled back to when all this started. You remember thinking, perhaps foolishly, that you and Anakin would make it. That one in a million couple. You thanked the entire galaxy that you were right.

You looked at Obi-Wan only to see that he was grinning at the both of you. He’d had his suspicions about you two for months before he eventually caught you kissing after you returned from a long mission. Anakin swore up and down that he “fell on you” and was “tending to your injuries” but Obi-Wan just brushed away the excuses and assured the both of you he would keep your secret. 

“You may now… kiss each other. If you so desire,” Obi-Wan said before averting his eyes.

Anakin looked at you, adoration clear in his vision. He held your gaze and gently cupped your cheek. “So… can I kiss you?”

You rolled your eyes, laughed, and leaned in. 

-----

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[zombryz]

★ needy ★ a Frieza story

This is based on a request I got from an Anon - “ Do you think you can do a Frieza X Reader where Frieza feels more comfortable about being around the reader so much that he gets a bit clingy towards the reader?“

This will be a multi-part series. Oh how I do love Lord Frieza  ♡

TW - mentions of anxiety, kidnapping

“Yo!” You hear a familiar voice from behind you. You spin on your heel to find none other than the tall and hunky saiyan himself, Goku. 

“Hi Goku! How are you?” You smiled sweetly at him. He’s been your friend for quite some time now and you’ve gotten used to having him around. His face always lights up when he sees you, as you have a way with people, in this case saiyans. Both him and Vegeta had a soft spot for you and they never really understood why. They eventually just gave in and would do whatever you asked of them, being completely wrapped around your finger.

“I’m great! You ready to do this?” He smirked, making a hmph noise before cracking his knuckles and furrowing his eyebrows downward showing that he meant business. You had invited him over today because you were moving into capsule Corp. He was in charge of moving all your big, heavy furniture. Bulma requested you move in a few months ago but after the whole ‘Beerus almost destroying the world’ thing you decided it might be a good idea to go ahead and finally move in. That way you would always be kept in the loop. You were Bulma’s best friend and you were always babysitting the boys anyways so why not just move in? 

“Where do you want this?” Goku questioned holding your whole couch under one arm.

“Um, you can just put it in the loft! Thanks, Goku!” You replied with a kind smile causing his cheeks to turn rosy. You knew that he would do anything for you so you decided to return the favor by always being sweet to him. Everyone around here always called him an idiot and you didn’t feel that he was deserving of that. 

He had moved everything into your apartment so quickly without even breaking a sweat. Goku walked back down the stairs dusting off his hands as if it was the easiest task the saiyan has ever had to do. You were so thankful to have him in your life. 

“Gosh, thanks Goku. What would I do without you?” You reached up to ruffle his hair causing him to chuckle while he scratched the back of his neck.

“Don’t mention it! I’ll see you at dinner then?” He waved goodbye and took off using instant transmission. You were so excited to have a new place within Capsule Corp. Now if you needed Bulma, you could just walk down the hall instead of having to call her up. You sat on your couch and decided to get a nap in before dinner that evening. 

Later that evening, everyone gathered for dinner on the rooftop of Capsule Corp. It was honestly quite cute to have everyone sit together like a big family. You sat with Lord Beerus and Whis to your right and Trunks and Goten to your left. Lord Beerus also took a liking to you, which you figured it couldn’t hurt to have a destroyer on your side. He took the time to actually learn your name which didn’t seem to be a regular occurrence with him and mortals. After dinner you were playing hide and seek with Trunks and Goten, they always outsmarted you by flying or fusing together. You told them that if you were going to play, flying or fusing was against the rules. They weren't too excited about this but they would go along with it because they were always happy to just be playing with you. You were their favorite. 

After a tiresome game of hide and seek and finding the boys stuck in a tree you decided to head back to get some sleep. You yawned walking back inside Capsule Corp, that's when you ran into Bulma roaming the halls. She looked a teensy bit nervous and you felt the need to ask her what was wrong. 

“Everything ok Bulms?” You approached her slowly placing a hand on her shoulder in an attempt to calm her down a bit without spooking her.

“Oh! Hey, Y/N. Y-Yeah, I’ll be okay.” Her words came off a bit on edge and you couldn’t help but think she was trying to withhold information.

“You sure? You don’t seem okay, you seem a bit anxious..” 

“O-okay fine, you got me.” She shakily put her hands up in surrender and you finally let go of her shoulder to cross your arms together. You raised your brow curious to what she was going to say next. “Both Goku and Vegeta left. They went to train with Whis on Beerus' planet..” she paused. You felt as though there was something else she was leaving out. Your brow remained raised, unsure of where this was going. “….we have no way of staying in contact with them, I-I feel a little… unprotected I guess.” she shrugged as if saying it aloud sounded silly. Your eyes widened. A skip in your heart, earth’s greatest protectors - gone? What does this mean? Is there even a threat to earth? Is there going to be a threat? Your head spun a bit when you realized Bulma was still staring at you, she clearly needed comfort from her friend and not a freak out session. 

“Come here Bulms, it’s going to be okay” you grabbed one of her arms and pulled her into a tight embrace. “We still have Piccolo and Gohan with us. Oh! And the boys. We’ll be fine if anything happens we’ll just call up Tien and 18.” You unconfidently replied, breaking off the hug you held her shoulders in place so that she could see your trying sincere smile. Her anxiety seemed to knock down a few clicks as you helped calm her down.

“You’re right, It’s going to be okay.” She inhaled and exhaled loudly calming her nerves, “Thanks Y/N. Well, I guess I’ll try to get some sleep now. If you need anything please don’t hesitate to come get me, after all I’m only down the hall now!” She winked as she removed your hands from her shoulders and gave you a swift smile and wave before turning back down the hall towards her place. Finally, you can go back to your new apartment and relax. It had been a long day. 

You unlocked the door to your apartment and your living room was pitch black, the only light was emitting from your loft porch. Humming to yourself you walk around your dark room looking for the light switch, it was your first night in your new place and you cursed yourself for not knowing the layout of the room before it had gotten dark. You shuffled around reaching both arms out to feel around the walls for the light switch. At this point you were becoming annoyed, “Ugh” you grunted out loud. You pause for a moment to take a breather and that's when you see them. A pair of what looked like glowing red eyes in the far corner of your living room, they were locked on you and looked like they were coming from behind a lamp that Goku had placed there earlier in the day. You hesitate to scream, figuring maybe it was just an outlet or maybe the boys playing a prank on you. They started to move as if whomever they belonged to began standing up at their full height. That's when you started shaking and you could feel your palms becoming clammy with fear. Whatever it was was charging a ball of energy, the color matching their terrifying eyes. Now would be a good time to scream you thought to yourself, but you were frozen like a deer in headlights. 

Shit, shit, shit. 

Finally, you let out a gut wrenching scream hoping Goku or Vegeta would barge in and save you from whoever let themselves in your apartment. The being disappears from in front of you, in a frenzy you panic and look around not sure where it went. 

“Ah, ah, ah puny earthling.” The unknown creature was now behind you and clapped its large scaly hand over your mouth forcing no more noise out of you. “We don’t want the big bad monkey’s to know that I am here.” It tsked. You were stuck. Trying to calm your breathing you gave in, there was no way you could fight it off. Okay, what now? Still shaking you bring your arms down to your sides not realizing you grasped the hand that was placed tightly over your mouth. “Try that again and I will not hesitate to eliminate you right where you stand, under any normal circumstances you would already be dead at my hands, but unfortunately for the both of us,” a pause, almost as if it was annoyed to say the next part, “I need you to stay alive… for now.”

An understanding, you nodded your head in acceptance and it freed your mouth. All of a sudden the lights came on, blinding you. You covered your eyes trying to get the burn to go away when you finally opened them and saw it, well him? For a lizard man, he was oddly beautiful. He stood taller than you and had ivory skin with amethyst like crystal domes on his head, shoulders, and chest. His figure was rather slender but muscular. Flicking behind him was a long, ivory tail to match. It appeared to be made of pure muscle. He stood with one foot in front of the other showing off his three toed limbs. Wow. You had seen alien creatures before but never one quite like this. 

“Okay, what do you need me to do?” you cleared your throat and pulled at your shirt, fixing your appearance unconsciously.

“Rather compliant aren’t we?” he questioned while letting his head hang low, twisting his mouth to form a menacing and twisted smirk. “I will spare you the mechanics of my grand plan,” He raised his head to look you in the eyes while he spoke, “I have been watching you for quite some time, human.” This caused you to raise your brow in curiosity. Why was he watching you? “The monkeys left, and you see.. That will just not do, will it?” he started playing with his nails as if this conversation was boring him. 

You decided it was best for you not speak unless he asked you to and so he continued on.

“For now, you will be my hostage. My pawn, if you will. I need those infuriating baboons to come back to earth, I will not continue chasing them around the galaxy just to get my revenge.” He clutched his hand into a fist, anger seething through his teeth.

It finally clicked, standing only a few feet away was the ruthless and power hungry emperor, Lord Frieza. You swallowed your fear, not sure how you got here or why but you weren’t going to fight back in any way risking him to deem you no longer worthy to be in his presence. Goku and Vegeta have told you war stories about him. How did he come back? A single tear began rolling down your cheek causing you to sniffle quietly. Frieza must’ve noticed because he reached out and grabbed your face almost crushing your jaw with the action.

“Oh, do not grow worried little one. I will not hurt you…” a beat. “Today.” He chuckled evilly releasing your face. Great, you remembered Bulma telling you that there would be no contact with Goku or Vegeta. How long would you be Frieza’s prisoner? A panic sweeping over you, your head spinning and just like that your world went dark. You were knocked unconscious, Frieza had forced you to sleep. 

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

“Mom! Mom, wake up!” 

Bulma wiped the sleep away from her eyes. She sat up, yawning not sure if what was happening was a dream or not. Finally, fully awake, her eyes focus on Trunks who is hovering over her in a panic.

“It’s Y/N! I heard her scream, I went to check on her and her door was cracked open and there was no sign of her!” The worry in his voice caused Bulma to jump out of bed. 

“Trunks, I need you to go get Piccolo and the others. I am afraid something bad is happening.” Bulma tried her best to hide the worry in her voice.

Trunks left and Bulma started pacing her dark room, she had an itch of who might be involved. “Frieza.” she said to herself sternly, slamming her fist into her other hand. She thought to herself, how the hell am I going to get a hold of Goku and Vegeta?

[vostara]

I Am Lost - 01

Volume One: A New Guardian Component 01

pairing: - cayde-6 x female guardian x uldren sov - the crow x female guardian (eventual)

blurb: “The woman’s gaze drifts down to look at her hands. She moves her fingertips, intrigued by this odd sensation of feeling, of movement.”

word count: 2.8k+

When Verna awoke as a guardian, she knew nothing about what life is meant to be like as a Lightbearer. And though she has been told that learning about her past is a forbidden endeavor, she can’t help but feel drawn towards discovering who she once was. But her pursuit of the quest is interrupted by the growing chaos, by the Darkness spreading.

Begins with the events of Destiny 1 and will continue up to the current timeline (but hey, it’ll take awhile to get there). Verna is a void-using Hunter.

*This work is cross-posted on Ao3.

01 | … series masterlist

Tag List (Open): @mangovalkyrie

We called it the Traveler, and its arrival changed us forever. Great cities were built on Mars and Venus. Mercury became a garden world. Human lifespan tripled. It was a time of miracles. We stared out at the galaxy and knew that it was our destiny to walk in the light of other stars—but the Traveler had an enemy. A Darkness, which had hunted it for eons across the black gulfs of space. Centuries after our Golden Age began, this Darkness found us and that was the end of everything. But it was also the beginning. — The Speaker

COSMODROME

Old Russia, Earth

A pale orange machine with golden engraving zooms around a wreckage of rusted, disintegrating vehicles. Searching amongst the ruins. He stops to scan a skeleton, slumped over in one of the cars. “Ouch,” he comments, blunt, before flying away. He pauses, looking off into the distance. And then, quick, he speeds off to investigate this new area of interest. Curiosity running strong within his circuits.

His scanner flicks on once again, scrutinizing the debris. “Is it possible?” For a moment, he feels an inkling of hope. His protective shell moves away from his main body—a metallic orb—pushed apart by a glowing sphere of blue light. “There you are!” He says, confirming his suspicions. Excited, the machine puts all of his energy into bringing the skeletal remains back to life.

In its place, a young woman appears. Tanned skin forms, surrounding the broken bones. Dark hair grows, cascading in loose waves down to her mid-back. And with her first inhale of breath, a blush of pink life spreads across her cheeks. Slowly, the woman opens her eyes, and winces at the invasion of light.

“Guardian,” the machine says. He moves closer to her, flying right up into her line of vision. “Guardian?” He repeats.

The woman blinks at him. She feels sluggish, confused. Her mind still busy trying to process the concept of life, existence.

“Eyes up, Guardian!” The strange object says, inching the slightest bit closer to her face.

She tilts her head in curiosity, finally noticing the talking robot.

“It worked… You’re alive!” He says. “You don’t know how long I’ve been looking for you. I’m a Ghost. Actually, now I’m your Ghost. And you…”

The woman’s gaze drifts down to look at her hands. She moves her fingertips, intrigued by this odd sensation of feeling, of movement.

“Well, you’ve been dead a long time,” the robot continues. “So, you’re going to see a lot of things you won’t understand.”

Something yells in the distance, drawing his attention towards it.

“This is Fallen territory,” he says. His optic eye shifts rapidly to glance around the area. He’s nervous, concerned. “We aren’t safe here. I have to get you to the City.” Briefly, he flies away, before turning back to the Guardian. “Hold still,” he says, disappearing.

The woman opens her mouth to speak—tries to call out for the machine to return—but no sound escapes.

“Don’t worry,” his voice says. The sound vibrates inside of her head, and it feels ever-so-slightly unsettling. “I’m still with you. We need to move, fast.”

Almost hesitant, the woman pulls herself up onto her feet. She surveys the world in front of her, overwhelmed by the sight of sparse greenery and spreading decay.

“We won’t survive long out in the open like this,” the Ghost gives her a verbal nudge. “Let’s get inside the Wall.”

She looks beyond the clumps of rusted metal, focusing on a building that’s crumbling in the distance. With unsteady steps, she walks towards it. She stumbles in the dry dirt, gradually adapting to process that’s involved in forcing her legs into motion.

“I didn’t bring you back just for you to die again,” Ghost says. “We need to move.”

Sensing the urgency, she picks up her pace. The woman climbs through the wreckage and jogs the rest of the way to the Wall. She enters through a large hole that greets her with darkness. An automatic light resting on her left shoulder switches on, illuminating the space. She climbs the staircase to her left, ascending up a couple flights of stairs. The woman is cautious as she travels further inside, careful to avoid cutting herself with the jagged, sharp edges of broken metal. She considers grasping onto the safety railings for support, but changes her mind upon noticing that they look as if they could snap between her fingers.

A skittering noise echoes throughout the building, pulling the woman’s attention to the dark ceiling.

“Quiet,” the Ghost says, half a step below a whisper. “They’re right above us.”

Making a deliberate effort to keep her footsteps light, the woman traverses further into the building in search of a way through. Eventually, she opens a door and steps into an open space.

The Ghost rematerializes beside her, and immediately begins to scan the area. “Hang tight,” he says. “Fallen thrive in the dark. We don’t. We need more light. I’ll see what I can do.” He zips away, flying deep into the darkness. “Another one of these hardened military systems and a few centuries of entropy working against me.”

As she stares into the pitch black, a rock of discomfort settles inside the depths of her stomach. Goosebumps bloom down the woman’s arms. She feels something watching her, examining her every move. But she can’t see the source.

The lights flicker on.

And illuminate the swarm of creatures moving across the adjacent bridges and walls. The woman’s eyes widen at the sight, caught off-guard by their six slender limbs, claw-like hands, and glowing blue eyes. The creatures—the Fallen—are dressed in spiked gray and silver armor, with purple cloaks draped over their heads.

The woman emits an involuntary gasp, taking a step back towards the door that she had walked in from.

“They’re coming for us,” the Ghost yells as he speeds his way back towards the woman.

“Yeah,” she responds. And for a brief moment, she is startled by the sound of her own voice. It’s coarse, strained, yet soft, quiet.

“Oh,” the Ghost pauses, stopping abruptly to look at her. “So you can speak!”

“Yeah,” she confirms, though she sounds as if she doubts this herself. Hearing hurried footsteps, she turns her attention back to the creatures that are gaining on them.

The Ghost turns to look back at the Fallen, and then rushes back to the woman. He scans a gate beside her, hacking into the system to unlock it. As the gate rises, he flies through and points a light at an object leaning against a metal crate. “Here,” he says. “I found a rifle. Grab it!”

She runs after him, quick to pick up the offered weapon.

“I hope you know how to use that thing,” he says.

Walking at a brisk pace down the hall, she detaches the rifle’s magazine and checks the amount of ammo stored inside. “You and me both,” she mumbles, clicking everything back into place. A group of Fallen soldiers jump in front of them, and the woman reacts on instinct, lodging a couple of rounds into each of their heads. Another Fallen appears, ready to strike. And, pulling out a knife from her thigh holster, she jabs the blade into the creature’s neck.

“I think you’ll be okay,” the Ghost says, watching as the fresh corpse collapses onto the ground.

The woman looks over at the Ghost, before continuing forward. Rifle raised and ready to fire. After walking through a disorientating maze of hallways and fighting off two hoards of Fallen soldiers, she stumbles into an open space with high ceilings. On the other side, a giant fan is slowly rotating behind a metal grate.

“The Fallen have a tighter hold on this place than I thought,” the Ghost comments. He heads towards the fan and looks down a new hallway. “Just a little bit further. Let’s hope there’s something left out there.”

She follows after him. “You don’t sound entirely confident.”

“I was fortunate enough to finally find you,” he says. “I don’t know how much more luck I’ve got left today.”

As the woman enters the hallway, she pauses to look back at where they had come from, double checking that none of the Fallen were hot on their heels.

All clear.

The Ghost and the woman follow the path. It leads them outside, into another field of rust and ruin.

“This was an old Cosmodrome,” the Ghost explains. “There’s got to be something we can fly out of here.”

“Cosmodrome?” The woman whispers. She takes in the sight, trying to process and understand this ever-growing pile of information.

“Right,” the Ghost turns to look at her. “You don’t know—”

His words are interrupted by the loud sound of something being launched in the distance. The woman and the Ghost whip their eyes towards its direction, watching as a smoking orange light—a flare—flies high up in the air. Gradually, it changes direction, curving towards a nearby tower.

“Incoming!” The Ghost warns, pulling the woman’s attention away from the flare.

A large portal of blue and white light forms in the sky. And through it, a ship appears and starts to descend. With the sound of a faint explosion, another ship flies through another portal. It heads towards them, landing closer than the first.

“Fallen ships!” The Ghost says. “This close to the surface?”

The woman unclips her magazine from the rifle and replaces it with a fresh one. “We should go.”

“Move!” The Ghost agrees.

She sprints across the courtyard, approaching the ship. As she nears, several Fallen leap out of the vehicle. Aiming her rifle, she shoots several of them dead before their feet can touch the ground. Moving at a quick, but steady, pace, she heads closer and continues her task of killing the creatures. Fighting her way around the swarm, she treks through the open courtyard, before entering a new building on the other side.

“I’m picking up signs of an old jumpship,” the Ghost says. “Could be our ticket out of here.”

“Here’s to hoping,” the woman mumbles.

They follow the hallways inside, pausing to kill the Fallen before these enemies are able to spot them. Eventually, they turn a corner and enter a wide, open room with a broken glass ceiling. Across the way, an old ship sits abandoned, collecting dirt and grime. It’s suspended above them, held up by multiple thick cables.

“There’s a ship!” The Ghost says.

The woman steps closer, her eyes glued to it. “It looks relatively intact,” she notes. A cluster of running footsteps storm in through the entrance behind her, and she pivots to shoot the Fallen. Once all is calm, she turns her attention back to the ship.

The Ghost reappears beside her. “Alright, let me see if I can get us out of here,” he flies up to the ship and begins to scan it. “It’s been here awhile,” he comments. “Hasn’t made a jump in centuries. We’re lucky the Fallen haven’t completely picked it clean.”

“Will it fly?” The woman asks.

The Ghost pauses and turns to look at her. “I can make it work,” he says. He turns back towards the ship and disappears as he slips inside of it. After a few moments, the ship’s lights flip on and its engine begins to rumble. Another moment goes by, and then the ship breaks itself free of cables as it raises to hover in the air.

“Would you look at that,” the woman says.

“Okay, it’s not going to break orbit, but it might just get us to the City. Now—about that transmat...”

Through a hole in the wall, several Fallen scurry into the room. “Might wanna put a rush on that,” the woman yells. She swings up her weapon, finger ready to pull the trigger.

“Bringing you in!”

Before she can fire a shot, the woman disappears in a cluster of blue lights. She reemerges inside the ship, disorientated and confused. As she stares at the different levers and buttons inside, the Ghost steers the jumpship out of the building and away from the enemies that are shooting at them.

“Let’s get you home,” he says.

“Home?”

The Ghost turns to look at her, but says nothing in return.

And unbeknownst to the duo, a stranger watches them from a distance.

TOWER

The Last City, Earth

The trip “home” is shorter than the woman anticipates. Though, she was—admittedly—a bit distracted with her face pressed up against the windows of the ship. Eyes glued to the snow-capped mountains, vast forests, clear lakes, and crumbling cities that passed by beneath them. Breaking through the dark clouds of a thunderstorm, the ship is greeted with bright rays of warm sunshine. And, pressing her nose even further into the glass, the woman’s eyes widen at the sight of a giant orb floating in the distance. Below it, a towering grey building glimmers beneath the sun’s light.

When the ship approaches the location, the Ghost switches back on the transmat and teleports the woman down onto the courtyard below. Just as her feet touch the ground, the ship flies away and disappears behind the roof of the building.

“Welcome to the last safe City on Earth,” the Ghost says. “The only place the Traveler can still protect. It took centuries to build. Now, we’re counting every day it stands.”

The woman takes a step towards the balcony’s edge, wanting a better view of the City below.

“And this Tower is where the Guardians live,” the Ghost says, flying towards the main building.

She turns to follow him, but freezes in place. She’s stunned by the expansive entryways, tall pillars, glowing lights, and red flags billowing in the wind. Robots patrol the courtyard, sweeping the ground and collecting stray pieces of rogue trash. A group of children race across the steps, led by a young boy that’s clutching a large black ball between his small hands. As the laughing children sprint passed one of the cleaning robots, it cautions them to be careful and to slow down.

“You keep referring to Guardians,” the woman says. “Is that what I am?”

“Yes.”

“And what does that entail?”

The Ghost hovers just out of her reach, his outer protective shell whirling in circles as he goes through an internal debate. “It’s normal for you to be confused,” he says, looking at her. “I’m sure that all of this is… a lot to take in all at once.”

The woman sighs, “Maybe just a little bit.”

Their conversation comes to a halt.

“Follow me,” the Ghost says, ending the long stretch of silence. “I’ll take you to—”

“Wait,” she interrupts. “I want to… I want to know who I am. Why can’t I remember anything? What even is this place? This… Tower?”

He drifts closer to her, meeting her gaze. “The answer to that is a bit complicated,” he says. “But who you are now is a Guardian, a new Guardian.”

“So,” the woman blinks, “I was once somebody else?”

“Yes and no,” the Ghost responds. “Your body—your face—it once belonged to somebody else. Beyond that, you are completely different.”

“So, you’re saying that I’ve been reincarnated?” She asks, looking down at her hands. The woman examines the bare skin, noticing long scars etched along the outside of her right forearm.

“Don’t think about it,” the Ghost says, nudging her arm back down to her side. “Pursuing knowledge about your past life is ill-advised. Forbidden, actually.”

“Do you know who I was?”

“No.”

“Nothing at all?”

The Ghost stares at her.

But she continues to pry, “Not even a name?”

“Would you like a name?” He asks.

“‘Guardian’ feels a bit… impersonal,” she admits. “You probably have a name, don’t you?”

The top of the Ghost’s shell lowers, as if pulling itself down to represent a frown. “No,” he says. “I’ve only ever been ‘Ghost.’”

“Wouldn’t you like a name?”

“Oh!” The Ghost’s straightens out his shell. And his optic center appears to widen with brewing excitement. “You could gave me a name,” he suggests. “We could… do a trade. You name me and I’ll name you?”

For the first time, the woman feels amusement. “A fair proposal,” she smiles, “Tangerine?”

The Ghost flies around her head, contemplating the suggestion. “I like it,” he says, coming to a halt in front of her face. “My turn! What to name you,” his voice trails off, pondering his options. “Something strong? Pretty? Traditional? Unique? Do you have a preference, Guardian?”

“It’s up to you, Tangerine. That was the deal.”

Finally, he speaks, “What about Verna?”

She quirks an eyebrow, “Verna?”

“You don’t like it?” Tangerine’s shell spins rapidly, nervous. He starts to sink towards the ground, unsure and embarrassed. “I’m sorry, it’s just… it’s the first thing that I thought of. I can come up with something else if—”

She giggles softly, lifting the Ghost back up high into the air. “I like it,” the woman—Verna—says.

A/N: Thank you for reading! While I plan on keeping this story relatively close to the game itself, it will prioritize accuracy for the in-game cutscenes and spoken dialogue, and not any other miscellaneous written lore. This is simply because Destiny has an absolutely massive library of lore and I am simply a graduate student with little free time who has to write a novel for her thesis project.

Also, we'll be seeing some of Cayde-6 in the next chapter. ^^ I was hoping to squeeze him in for this one, but I felt that ending with Verna's name was a natural stopping point.

[katytheinspiredworkaholic]

WIP Wednesday Thursday

Title: Extraordinary

Pairings: HotchReid (side pairings Morcia, WillxJJ, others in flirtation)

Summary: League of Extraordinary Gentleman/Vampire AU;

Within the FBI there is a specialized team full of an elite selection of people. Unique individuals with very particular skill sets. And their job is to take the unusual cases: the ones that need to not only be solved, but are undetermined if the unsub is human, or something else entirely.

In a world filled with Vampires, non-human creatures, and subspecies unknown, there is only enough information to have them vaguely regulated. Rules that are so easily, and violently broken, all while hidden in plain sight among the unsuspecting public. Unrivaled for eons.

That’s where the BAU comes in.

Official Posting Date: Now posted on tumblr and Ao3, Click Here

Links: (Masterpost) (Snippet 01) (Snippet 02) (Snippet 03) (Snippet 04)

(TW/CW: This is pretty tame, Emily is just a little intense and eager because Spencer is... well, Spencer, and when she realizes all he can do? Oh she is chomping at the bit. Some trance-like things and witchy stuff and Hotch being territorial without being able to admit it.)

(the story so far/what you need to know for this clip at least: this takes place in chapter 02, what you will all see on Saturday evening, and this version is insanely unpolished (I’m about to go through and fix it up and give it a good make-over) but basically this is the first time Spencer is meeting Emily Prentiss and it makes... an impression. Also, Emily has been at the BAU for about 0.2 seconds and Hotch is already done with her. The sibling energy I love to see. It’s also hella long, as an apology for missing last week and being a day late. All you’ve missed is Spencer about ran into Emily turning a corner and she saved him from spilling his case files and coffee all over the floor. Now they are talking)

–

.

“I apologize, I thought you were an intern or still in the academy.”

“It’s alright, everyone does,” Spencer says without taking offense. He wouldn’t have gotten where he was or lasted very long if he did; however, if he had a nickel for every time someone had been surprised by his age, he’d be as rich as Father Rossi. His full hands actually aids him as he mentions, “I don’t usually shake hands with people, so don’t think me rude. I’m Dr. Spencer Reid.” He offers her a smile in exchange, and it is mirrored on her face just as her surprise kicks up another notch. 

“Doctor, my my I am in for a trip on this team, aren’t I?” she laughs, and it’s a melodic thing that stretches over an expanse of time and history. Ballrooms in Russia and palors of France, Elizabethan and the roaring 20’s and everything in between all rolled into one. He’s not sure how he sees it, an impossible thing, but he can read it like a book and that must have something to do with what she is. “Emily Prentiss, it is a remarkable pleasure to meet you Dr. Reid. Now, I have to ask--” her tone is so charming and playful and probing he barely notices the nuance, “And I’m sure it’s taboo around here, but I have to know -- your regeneration process. Tell me what it is or what you do. You look so young.”

“I am young,” he states simply, finally stunned by a question he’s not usually asked. 

“Yes, yes, we all can’t be a thousand years old like your fearless Vampire leader,” she waves off and Spencer’s eyes widen because… he hadn’t known Hotch was that old. Sure he’d said he’d been alive for the better part of a millennia, but he always said it like a hyperbole. A turn of phrase that’s off by a couple centuries. But --

 A thousand years old. 

That would put him… 

God, that would put him alive, as a human, just before the start of The Crusades. 

“Oh, did he keep that to himself? Oops, my bad. Pretend you don’t know. Anyway -- so are you a Shifter? Or use a particular spell? Oh, or is it a curse? I’m fascinated by curses, I don’t use them often myself but the rigidity of terms using a power so chaotic is just such a fun juxtaposition that I--”

“No, no, I’m… normal, human,” Spencer interrupts her, still the smallest bit shell-shocked, but now connects a few dots himself as she speaks. Realizes very suddenly that Ms. Prentiss appears ageless because she is ageless. She’s also a Witch. One of the broadest terms for subspecies categories, which really doesn’t do it justice. A Witch could be a number of things. Someone who uses magic and science and the very Earth itself paired with the spiritual planes to do impossible things. Witches are beings so powerful they should be uncategorizable. Something Spencer is fascinated by as well. He’s never met anyone like Emily. “I look young because I am young. I’m 27, I’ve only been with the BAU for the past three years. I’m a little excited to not be the newbie on the team any more,” he tries to joke, but Emily’s gaze has gone distant and sharp all at once.

“You’re only 27? And you’re a doctor?” She asks in clarification, Spencer nodding along each time. “You’ve been a doctor, since becoming an FBI agent?” 

“Um, well -- I’m not a medical doctor. I do have three doctorates, though; in mathematics, chemistry, and engineering,” he finds himself shrinking a bit under her intensely interested gaze. “What?”

“Chemistry?” she asks, vaguely more distant.

“That was my first doctorate,” he murmurs back, not sure what has her looking so contemplative. 

“You’ve achieved all of this: three doctorates, FBI agent, BAU -- in 27 years?” she questions, a grave yet wondrous sound.

“Technically I did all of that in 15 years. I graduated high school when I was 12,” he manages to do more than mumble, and Emily’s wide-eyed stare has him spewing forth information like it requires an explanation. “I have an eidetic memory, and I can read 20,000 words a minute, and my IQ is 187 so by human standards yes -- I’m a genius, and borderline on the advanced brain developments scale. But I’m still human. Nothing paranormal or extraordinary.”

The pause that follows is palpable.

“Oh,” she says in an exhale, “Oh, you young soul. You have no idea, do you? What you are capable of...” She tilts her head as she steps closer and Spencer is very suddenly aware that he’s not sure she’s blinked since they started speaking about his qualifications. What he can do, how he got to where he is. No one usually shows this much interest, he makes them uncomfortable for reasons he doesn’t always understand. 

Emily doesn’t look uncomfortable, she looks… hungry. 

“You are so very, very extraordinary. Exceptional, really. Look at all of what you’ve accomplished with just 15 years of life.” That astonished sound again, like she can’t believe her luck--

And then she’s in his space, gaze boring into his, and Spencer can see galaxies in the depth of her eyes. His breath stolen from him and feet rooted to the floor. So he doesn’t step away as she leans just the smallest bit closer, words resonating with echoes across ages.

“Imagine what you could do with a thousand.” 

“Prentiss,” the deep voice of Hotch’s monotone (edged in something vaguely aggressive, and more than a little aggravated)  breaks through their moment. The trance fading like a fog from Spencer’s eyes. “No recruiting. It’s in your contract.”

“You have such a gift, it’s a shame to waste it,” Emily whispers in a rush as Hotch approaches them from down the hall. More earnest than intimidating, now.

“Prentiss!” 

“Think about it,” she winks, and then turns to give Hotch a smile that’s all teeth so sharp she resembles a shark. “Oh, what a sour face. What’s wrong? Were you planning on asking him first? You snooze, you lose.” 

“Conference room,” he instructs, pointing the way Spencer had just come. “Team meeting in 20 minutes. Try not to summon anything between here and there.” She sticks her tongue out at him childishly as she leaves, and sends a quirk of a smile Spencer’s direction that shifts her whole expression into something comically entertained. He’s never seen Hotch interact with someone like this, like they were… familiar, even exasperatingly so. The closest in comparison is probably Father Rossi. But this is less like old friends and more like sibling rivalry. 

The space Emily had just vacated is suddenly filled with Hotch, an overwhelmingly welcomed presence and it eases the tension out of Spencer’s spine and shoulders that he hadn’t even realized was there. 

“Are you okay?” he asks, low and quiet. They’re the only ones in the hallway, but secrecy is a hard habit to break.

Spencer nods, still gaining his bearings once more. “I think so. That didn’t feel like hypnotism. I don’t know what that was.” 

“Prentiss doesn’t manipulate minds or the wills of other people,” Hotch tells him, which is soothing if not for the foreboding question of what just occurred. “She doesn’t need to. She can do a lot of things: change her face, her voice, make illusions and talk circles around anyone -- even you.” Spencer looks up to him at that, aware that his level of intelligence is the only thing that keeps him safe from JJ or Hotch’s influence. His mind can’t be bent, or tricked.

“Then what was she doing? I felt compelled but… not against my will. What was that?” he asks, also quiet but much more high in pitch as his confusion turns his voice to a winded sound.

Hotch’s thin, stern frown does nothing to alleviate the apprehension caught up in his chest like a bad cold. 

.

“Possibility,” he states, grim and not liking that Spencer had fallen prey to such a short moment with Emily Prentiss and her promise of what her craft could do for him. Hotch is well aware that Spencer’s gift of soaking up every speck on information he’s given like a sponge isn’t something to let wither and die like so many before him. There’s so much he could do with an infinite life, such as his and Emily’s, but the curse of living forever alone is not something to be taken lightly. And not to be decided by someone who still has so much more life to live unaided by other forces.

However, Emily was right about one thing. Hotch can’t deny that he’s thought about it. More than considered it as a definite possibility. 

An offer, all his own.

–

Tagged list so far: @physics-magic​, @thaddeusly, @ssa-noa, @ssa-sarahsunshine, @tobias-hankel, @reidology, @mintphoenix

[fettsvette]

Under the Crimson Moon

You have your period and feel gross. Boba Fett wants to fuck. A little blood never stopped the greatest bounty hunter in the galaxy from doing his job, and doing it damn well.

Pairing: Boba Fett x Reader Words: 7.2k Rating: Explicit Warnings: Menstruation/blood kink, penetrative sex

Can be found on Archive of Our Own here.

Mando’a terminology:

   cyar’ika - Mando’a term of affection meaning sweetheart, darling, beloved

  -

  “If I want you to do something, girl

We both know that you will

I’m a dirty old man with a dirty set of dreams

Take off that dress if you wanna keep it clean...”

  ‘Up in Them Guts,’ Brendan Kelly and the Wandering Birds

   -

You hadn’t known he was coming until he’d actually arrived.

 One minute, you had been in a deep sleep, wrapped in the warm blankets that shrouded the king-sized bed, and then suddenly, you were wide awake. Because you’d heard it, and you knew in your heart of hearts that it hadn’t been the lasting echo of a dream.

 The sound of heavy bootsteps and the unmistakable jangle of spurs echoed in the crisp night air, emanating down the hall towards your bedroom doorway.

 You sat up quickly, blood roaring in your ears and your heart pounding wildly in your chest, and your head snapped towards the entryway, illuminated only by the moonlight flooding in through the bay window. 

 And there he was, stepping out of the deep midnight shadows with that slow, methodical walk that seemed to encompass his very being: Boba Fett, the greatest and most feared bounty hunter to ever live.

 And your lover.  

 If you didn’t know better, you would’ve sworn he was a statue of some ancient warrior, carved from marble and brought to life by a warlock’s spell. The way he stood unmoving and ramrod straight, just staring at you, always sent a thrill down your spine, his expression unreadable behind the darkened, T-shaped visor of his helmet.

 But still you groaned - not out of arousal, the expected reaction to the presence of the imposing yet entirely irresistible man who was currently gazing at you - but out of annoyance. You squeezed your eyes shut, almost willing him to disappear, to take the hint, by the time you opened them again.

 His timing couldn’t have been worse.

 “Boba, please go away ... ” You grumbled pathetically under your breath, cracking an eye open to look up at the silent figure clad in dark green armor, looking at you expectantly. You heard him let out a sharp hiss under the helmet, and he gave a start, his head snapping downwards, and you just knew he was glaring at you murderously. You had no idea how he’d heard you from all the way across the room, but he had.

 “ Oh ? What’s that , girly? You don’t like me anymore?” He stalked forward slowly, and the question came not with a teasing edge nor with an air of apprehension, but with an icy lilt to it. It chilled your blood, and it occurred to you that you may have just made a huge mistake in telling Boba Fett himself to fuck off. As much as you enjoyed the sexual satisfaction you got from these illicit romps with one of the most dangerous men in the known universe, the confident realization that he could potentially grow angry or bored enough to dispose of you at any time without even batting an eye absolutely terrified you. He was a bounty hunter, after all. At the same time, though, that same fear excited you beyond the wildest depths of your imagination. He’d shown you time and time again just how deadly he could be, and yet you had never turned away when you’d had the chance. And there had been plenty of those times. 

 “ No ! Boba, no. I - I s-still like you. Of c-course I still like you. But…” You began, stuttering and stammering like a nervous child, but stopped abruptly when Fett took another step forward, spurs clanking again. He either didn’t notice the effect his brief intimidation had on you, or he didn’t care. You assumed it was most likely the second one.

 “ There’s a problem. ” Fett wasn’t asking you. It was a statement. Maybe another time you would have attempted to lie your way out of it just to save yourself the embarrassment that you knew was coming, but tonight you couldn’t even find the energy to attempt it. 

 “I can’t tonight. I just... can’t .” You murmured, almost tearfully defeated, gingerly sitting up in the bed to take a better look at your nighttime visitor. You could see yourself reflected in the viewscreen of his helmet, disheveled from sleep and sickly-looking, although you didn’t know if that was a trick of the moonlight or a sign of your current condition. Despite the intense cramping in your belly that was overtaking most other sensations, you still felt a flutter of longing travel to your loins upon seeing Boba Fett. How badly you wanted to grab him by that clunky belt and drag him down onto the bed next to you, free him from his trousers, and ride him until you found your release, but your body wasn’t in agreement with your wishes in the least bit. You took a deep breath, and steadily looked him in the eye.

 “ I got my period this morning. ”

 Silence. Not even a tilt of the dented helmet, a gesture you sometimes received after making references that he didn’t understand.

 Feeling your cheeks aflame and slightly embarrassed by the lack of response, you tried again.

 “...I’m menstruating, Boba. You know… moon blood? The curse? I don’t know if that’s a thing that happens to people where you come from, but I’m bleeding out of my vagina and I feel fucking miserable and -”

 Fett cut off your babbling with a sharp gesture through the air with one hand, the other settled nonchalantly on his hip as he shifted his weight. He let out a gruff sigh that lifted and dropped his shoulders in an almost comical display of exasperation. 

 “I know what it is. I’ve been with enough humanoid females in my lifetime. Is that supposed to change our plans tonight, little one?”

 It was your turn to go silent. You should have known something venomous and snarky like that would’ve been his answer. And of course he had more experience than you, he was older - by just how much, you weren’t exactly sure. He’d never shared his age, and you didn’t ask. He barely spoke as it was. And you still had yet to see his face. He’d never offered to show you, however, as if it were some closely guarded secret only he was the keeper of. And you didn’t dare try removing that strange, heavy helmet of his yourself. Boba Fett had never hurt you, but you felt if you were to reach underneath the sharp edges of his armor, peel it away from the complicated, mysterious creature underneath, there was no telling what he would do. 

 Hell, you had never even seen this man’s face and yet you had let him fuck you within an inch of your life . You’d never been ‘that kind of girl’ before you’d met him, upsetting everything you thought you’d known about yourself and the universe around you, but here you were. And here he was. 

 But his comment about being with other women in his past still spun ‘round your head like some mad arachnid’s twisted web, and made you wonder if he was presently doing this very same dance elsewhere - in other cities, on other worlds. 

 ‘ If this is just a physical thing, no strings attached… ’ You found yourself brooding as you watched him languidly stalk over to the window next to your bed, tilting the green and red helmet upwards and search the night sky for things you could only vaguely guess at if you tried, ‘ Then why am I jealous of something I don’t even know is really happening? ’

 “I just thought...you wouldn’t be… into that ...” You finally replied, meek as a mouse, and instantly trailed off once you realized you had no idea what else to say to him on this matter, your face burning. You should have been overwhelmed with desire at Boba wanting to fuck you this badly, but you found yourself apprehensive and shy - over a little bit of blood . It was times like this that you couldn’t fathom why a man from outer space, an intergalactic cowboy like something out of a comic book, had fallen from the sky and had chosen you.

 His head turning slowly in your direction, Fett marched back towards the end of your bed, his hands gripping the leather belt at his waist.

 “Your condition doesn’t matter to me. It’s a basic bodily function. Have you forgotten, foolish girl? I take what I want, when I want it .” He intoned brusquely, and your eyes widened, a delicious chill crawling up your spine, and you felt your cunt clench at nothing. The crimson tide had come in, and he still wanted to claim you.

 Usually, you talked enough for the both of you. Now you found yourself utterly speechless. 

 There was silence while he stood at the end of the bed, and you goggled blankly at him. Fett was challenging you. He showed no signs of leaving, or of heeding your apprehension in the least bit. He just continued to stand there and stare mutely, stubbornly standing his ground. Damn it.

 He had played this strange game several times before after one of your numerous meetings, lingering after it had become clear that you were way too fucked out to stay awake any longer. He’d never forced you into a situation that you hadn’t been game for, but he always seemed to want to make sure you knew who exactly owned you - or your cunt , at least.

 So he hung around. You’d mostly hear him pacing the room, sometimes quietly rummaging through your bookshelves as if in a library, but more often than not, he would sit himself in the chair across the room, large gloved hands gripping the armrests and well-muscled legs spread mockingly wide, reclining back and holding a silent vigil over you as you fell asleep. He was always long gone when you awoke, although once there had been some sort of dried flower left behind on your nightstand, dark red petals with a metallic tint to them - quite obviously nothing that had grown on this planet. You had asked him about it the next time he had shown up, after an excruciating three month absence that he re-emerged from with several more dents in and copious chips of paint missing from his armor. He had gruffly feigned any knowledge of the gift, his focus only on the flower between your legs. The dried one, however - the little token of his appreciation or whatever you wanted to call it - stayed pressed inside one of your favorite books. 

 As a reminder.

 Boba hadn’t moved in a while, still penetrating you with his eyes through that damned visor, when you finally decided to give in to him. You wanted him. Badly. Your reproductive system was in full rebellion against the idea and you felt fucking gross, but you weren’t sure you cared any longer. You needed him, couldn’t resist him. Hadn’t you read somewhere that orgasms were supposed to help relieve menstrual cramps, anyway?

 You bit your lip and let him have his way. 

 “In that case, Boba… I think I might feel a little bit better if you fucked me.”

 The self-satisfied, smug chuckle came like a rumble of thunder.

 “Well, well… that’s my good girl. ”

 He was across the room in the time it took you to blink. 

 Boba was extraordinarily light on his feet for a big man, and he was on top of you in the span of a breath. Rough leather gloves formed a vice around the muscle and bone of your wrists, pinning your arms above your head. You let out a shriek of surprise rather than pain - while his grip was firm, it didn’t necessarily hurt - and he answered with a low growl, kneeling on either side of your hips. He used one huge hand to continue pinning both of your wrists down, the other masterfully unclipping the heavy armor of his codpiece. You let out a near-hysterical giggle as Boba tossed it to the side and it unceremoniously hit the carpeted floor with a harsh thunk , smiling even broader as he brought the same hand up to rest against your cheek, stroking the flushed skin there.

 “I told you, girl. I always get what I want, when I want it . Tonight isn’t going to be an exception just because you’re cycling and feeling sorry for yourself. If you’re not going to cooperate with me, nice and easy... too bad .”

 Gooseflesh broke out all over your body at his words. You were absolutely fucking drenched for him already, and you wished he would just hurry up and take you already, tear off your panties and fuck into you until you were screaming yourself hoarse. You still weren’t sure of where exactly the man who called himself Boba Fett had come from, or why he was here , or why he’d chosen to mark you for his territory on this shitty little backwater world. Fucking hell, you didn’t even really know this man at all, did you? All you did know is that you were addicted to his touch, and despite your initial hesitations, you were practically begging for it now. 

 Boba used his free hand to slightly peel back the blankets concealing your thin nightie and period panties. With a contented hum, he lazily reached out to trace a thick gloved finger right along the line of your slit, and you let out a high-pitched, keening whimper, your hips twitching up involuntarily towards his touch. Boba clucked his tongue disapprovingly and shook his head at you, sighing and looking up towards the ceiling.

 “How pathetic … is that really all it takes to make you fall apart for me, sweet girl?” Boba teased, releasing his grip on your wrists momentarily in order to fully pull the covers off the bed and toss them onto the floor. It only took those few seconds for you to take him unawares, weaseling out from underneath his looming form and using both hands to forcefully shove him backwards. Caught off guard by your unexpected show of strength, Boba fell on his back with a startled grunt, which was immediately followed by a groan as he watched you crawl on top of him. With shaking legs, you straddled his waist and positioned your heat right over his generous crotch, planting your sweaty palms against the reassuring coldness of his armor, and began to sloppily grind into him, dropping down to lie flat against his abdomen as you continued.

 Trying to conceal his own quiet moans underneath his helmet, Boba allowed you to frantically grind your hips against the growing hardness in his trousers for a few more moments, one large hand cupping your ass and the other on your undulating back, holding you steady as you hectically rocked back and forth, up and down. You whined pitiably and grasped at the grooves of his breastplate like a drowning woman before his tolerance towards your juvenile ministrations finally ran thin. As you went to roll your hips against the outline of his length yet again, Boba grunted bestially and grasped you by the waist, pushing you off of him roughly so that you went tumbling onto your back next to him. Your chest heaving, you looked sideways at him with heavy-lidded eyes, your cheeks burning with desire. The dark helmet slowly tilted to the side as Boba stared at you, and you heard a disgusted scoff echo from within.

 “That’s enough, you. Kriff, you’re a desperate little thing, aren’t you? Rutting in my lap like a loth-cat in heat and I’ve barely even touched you. Is that what you want, princess? Do you want me to touch you?” He purred mockingly, reaching down to lightly stroke your outer thigh with a gloved hand, briefly squeezing the soft flesh there and leaving fingermarks in his wake. You let out a throaty groan and thrust your hips towards his retreating hand, needing to feel his touch on your body, on your core.

 “I need you to touch me, Boba, plea-” He reached out and grabbed you by the face, squeezing your cheeks together hard enough for it to almost be painful, and you let out a squeak as he tightened his grip, turning your face towards his.

 “Oh no, little one. It’s not going to be that easy to get what you want from me, not after the way you carried on earlier.”  He lowered his helmet until the forehead of it was touching your own damp one, and as you stared into the blackness of his visor, you found yourself wondering what color Boba’s eyes were, and what he would do if you were to reach up and pull that big green bucket away from his face. Before you could even truly consider it, though, he loosened his grip and released your cheeks. You exhaled sharply, a rush of cool air gradually taking the place of the rough leather on your skin. 

 Boba sat back on his knees, and grabbed you under your arms, hoisting you up and pivoting your body so you were now hanging off the bed, your feet dangling several inches above the floor. He lowered you slowly, making sure your feet were flat on the ground before he let his hands leave your sides, fingers purposefully trailing and pressing into the supple, pliant flesh of your still-covered, swollen breasts as he withdrew. The sensation of his trace along the tender tissues set your nerves on fire, and your nipples hardened to an almost excruciatingly painful degree. You considered reaching out to snatch one of those gauntleted wrists and plant his hand right on your tit, willing him to knead and squeeze and flick at the oversensitive bud at its tip, but were brought back to reality by a sharp smack to your ass. 

 You yelped, grabbing at your backside and whirling around to see Boba sitting on the bed, staring at you. He had taken his gloves off, and had swatted you with them, both forming a makeshift crop in his calloused hand. He let out an amused snort at your look of shock, and patted the palm of his other hand with the fisted leather.

 “Go to the ‘fresher and clean yourself up.” You sensed by the edge to Boba’s voice that his patience was running low, and he gestured vaguely to the doorway with a jerk of his head. His rugged timbre crackled through the vocoder of the helmet, adding an even more ominous tone to his speech. He reclined on your bed, his ankles crossed nonchalantly, armored form looking massive and mind-bogglingly out of place as he lounged back against the pillows. It would have almost been a comical sight if it hadn’t been for the heady arousal you could sense in his gaze. 

 “And take that kriffing absorbent out while you’re in there. I want you nice and wet and open for me.”

 You felt your heart sink right to your cunt at his last words. Stars, you were fucking dripping for him. A wave of liquid heat that had nothing to do with your cycle had pooled between your legs, and you felt your knees buckle as visions of what intense pleasures this man might put you through tonight swam in your mind. You shambled to the bathroom on legs that seemed to be made of gelatin, breathing heavily through your nose, trying to keep calm as you wiped away the sweat that had accumulated on your body in an attempt to make yourself somewhat presentable. You splashed your face with cold water to keep yourself from falling faint at the knowledge of what was to come, glancing at yourself in the mirror briefly. Your eyes were glassy, your pupils blown wide, almost completely black in the harsh light. A fresh round of cramps erupted in a band around your groin, and you were starting to think you’d die if Boba didn’t fuck you soon. Resting one leg on the toilet seat, you shoved your panties to the side and slowly removed the offending menstrual cup that you had inserted before you’d retired for the night, hastily discarding it in the bin. You didn’t care if it had tipped over and made a mess, you’d clean it up in the morning. All you cared about right now was getting back to Boba and feeling him twitch and throb inside of you.

 He was waiting for you when you re-emerged, immediately rising to stand on the side of the bed. Beckoning you with the crook of a finger, he held out his hand to you as you practically ran towards him. As soon as the pads of your fingers had made contact with his, he spun you around to lie flat on the bed, head propped up behind the pillows, feet planted on the mattress and your legs spread so that he had a perfect view of your damp panties. Whether it was blood or arousal or a mixture of both, you weren’t sure - free-bleeding had never been your ‘thing’ and you weren’t sure if you liked the feeling - but as Boba climbed back onto the bed, openly admiring the wetness between your legs, you began to think that maybe it was something you could get used to. 

 He yanked down your underwear in one deft movement, grabbing hold of your calves one by one to remove your panties from around your legs, and tossed them to the side, where they landed in a crumple. He immediately leaned forward to spread your wet lips apart with his rough fingers, and you heard a sharp intake of breath come from underneath the helmet. It was barely audible, and you could tell that it had been involuntary from the way he had attempted to cut it off before it had even truly escaped. You flung one arm across your eyes, blushing furiously as you felt two thick fingers shallowly dip into your folds, swiping upwards briefly to gather some of the slick gathered there, then retreating just as quickly, before you could buck your hips into the welcome presence.

 “ Such a dirty girl …” He cooed darkly, and you opened your eyes cautiously just to see what exactly he was talking about. He perched above you on his knees, gazing at his own hand, the one he had just been briefly exploring your wetness with. 

 His fingers were coated in blood - your blood, your menstrual blood - and he was smearing the red between his thumb, index, and middle fingers, as if utterly fascinated by it. His helmet briefly dipped down to his fingers as he greedily inhaled your most secret scent, and the low groan he released made you throw your own head back in an echo, fire traveling from your slick cunt throughout your body. Your cry came out much louder than anticipated, and his head immediately snapped up, his hidden eyes boring into you. You embarrassedly tore your eyes away from the darkened visor and noticed the impressive bulge straining at the crotch of his flight suit, along with the telltale damp patch that could only mean his cock was already weeping precum - fuck, this was turning him on. 

 He moved forward once more, brushing your legs further apart with a swat of the backside of his other hand and, resting his palm atop your shaking knee, almost calculatingly smeared the blood from his fingers along your inner thigh, back and forth, until the digits were nearly clean. You noticed a bit of dried redness still staining his skin, and the sight made you dizzy with arousal. 

 You threw your head back against the pillows once more and whined morosely at the mark your essence had left on him, offering no resistance when Boba grabbed you by your elbows, easing you onto your feet in front of his own kneeling form. 

 “Up you get, girl. Come on.” 

 You looked down at him, slightly puzzled as to exactly what he was doing, until he sharply prodded the backs of your knees with his arm, causing you to stumble forward. He caught your fall by positioning one thick thigh to rest between your legs, and you landed with your sopping core pressed directly against the grey fabric of his flight suit. Upon realizing your situation, you clutched at his biceps and buried your face in his neck with a muffled groan, every fiber of your being going into restraining yourself from fucking against the expanse of hard muscle. Boba Fett had remembered what you liked best, and he’d weaponized it. 

 “Go on. Ride my thigh, little one. Make yourself nice and slick so you’re ready to take my cock inside of you. You’ll probably have to cum at least once before you can handle it - I'm too big for you, aren’t I? ...But that’s what you want, isn’t it? My cock in your pretty little pussy?” Boba asked sweetly, his tone oozing with sarcasm. He jiggled his leg ever so slightly, and a shockwave of pure pleasure coursed through your veins, and you couldn’t help but let out a strangled squeal. Your calves shook in a futile attempt to hold yourself still despite it, to not give in to what he expected of you.

 Boba had another idea though. He growled and clutched at your hips and began forcefully dragging you back and forth across the coarse material of his pants, causing you to emit a wail that echoed throughout the room. Boba hummed, satisfied with the effect his domination of your movements had on you, and lowered his head so that he was whispering in your ear, the sound delightfully harsh and metallic through his helmet’s vocoder.

 “What was that, precious thing? You love fucking yourself against my leg like the needy little brat that you are, I know you do… now say it . Answer me, girl.” Boba punctuated his order with a slap to your ass, aggressively driving the muscle of his thigh up into your quim.

 “Y-yes, Boba…” You weakly murmured, hiding your face against his shoulder, thighs clenching around his upper leg like a vise, your hips finally - almost involuntarily - thrusting into the meat of Boba’s thigh in time with the rhythm he jerked them back and forth with. “I… I l-love fucking m-myself on your thigh…”

 “ Very good …” Boba chuckled darkly to himself as he continued to bounce his leg up and down while guiding your hips with his firm, strong hands, reveling in the soft grunts you let out as he controlled your riding of his thigh. He began flexing his quadricep to usher your impending orgasm along, occasionally pressing the tops of your thighs down to create more friction against your clit, friction you desperately needed as you chased your first release.

 Your hips started to stutter much sooner than you had anticipated and you locked your arms around Boba’s neck in a death grip, lifting your face away from its place pressed against his breastplate to look into his eyes through the blackness of the T-shaped visor. Boba pinched the tip of your chin with his index finger and thumb, keeping your head in place so you were forced to meet his gaze as you came, his other hand planted firmly on your waist as he continued to shove your body back and forth.

 “Come on, sweet thing. Cum on my thigh for me,” Boba encouraged as your grunting turned into high-pitched whines, spaced out with every push of your hips into his leg. Wriggling yourself in small circles and grinding your clit into the rough flak of his flight suit, you tipped your head back as you were finally pushed over the edge. Your inner walls clenched around nothing, devastating waves of pleasure rolling through your cunt and up through your clit as you rode out your orgasm. Boba didn’t slow his ministrations in the least bit, continuing to pump his leg up and down, holding you tightly in place as the spasms finally began to slow down and your clit became horribly oversensitive, until he finally allowed you to push yourself away from him, falling back onto the bed, panting loudly.

 Trembling and shivering from the orgasm that had ripped cataclysmically through your body, you laid back on the bed, chest heaving violently, legs splayed and arms thrown limply above your head. You opened your watering eyes briefly to look at Boba, and they widened considerably when you saw that he was curiously running his fingers over several incredibly noticeable stains on the thigh of his flight suit.

 Incredibly noticeable dark red stains. More like streaks, actually, following the line your pussy had made rutting against his thigh as you had sought your climax on the thick canvas.

 You felt the warmth drain from your face, slightly horrified and ready to sink into the floor out of embarrassment. You’d been bleeding like a stuck pig all over his leg as he’d forced your orgasm out of you, and you hadn’t even realized it.

 “Oh, Boba … I…” You began, rising up on your elbows, trying to think of what to say to placate him so he wouldn’t reprimand you for ruining a part of the armor that he cherished more than most other things. He was staring at you, unmoving, and that’s when you noticed his hands were actually shaking . The heat immediately rushed back to your face tenfold, and your cunt grew even warmer, your own arousal coating your inner thighs anew at how much of a mess you’d made of this man, in more ways than one.

 “ Filthy girl. I’m going to fuck you hard for that.” The words came out in a feral snarl, and suddenly his hands were around your throat. You let out a gasping whoop as the air was forced from your lungs, although he wasn’t choking you hard enough to cause damage. The moderate pressure on your windpipe sent black spots to your vision, your own hands coming up to scrabble at the backs of his, more out of longing for his touch than a desire for him to stop, and Boba knew your limits by now. It ended soon enough, his iron grip relaxing almost as quickly as it had begun, and you gulped in fresh air. He ghosted the backs of his fingers over your exposed neck for a moment, wordlessly making sure that you were okay, and you pressed a chaste kiss to his knuckles as he dragged the digits over your mouth for a brief moment. Another growl left his lips as you did so, and your hammering heart flipped in your chest as you felt him still quaking from just how horny he was, how eager to finally take you.

 Boba hurriedly unbuttoned the fly of his trousers, his normally deft fingers stumbling in his aroused rush to free himself. You couldn’t imagine just how turned on he must be to completely lose his cool like this, and it dazed you to comprehend that he was like this because of you . He finally shoved aside the rough material and pulled his cock free. You’d seen him too many times to count, but that first glimpse still sent your mind reeling. He was fucking huge. A perfect eight inches, ever-so-slightly curved to the right, veiny and deliciously wide, the glans plump and dusky pink and already slick with precum. He’d gone commando under his flight suit, and you found yourself wondering if he did all the time. You hoped so - it was fucking hot .

 “Boba, wait - are you absolutely sure you want to do this? It’s… going to... make a mess…” You said weakly, grasping at his bracer with your trembling fingers and feeling as if you might faint as he lined up his considerable girth against your entrance. You felt the fat head of his cock against your lips, and it was like every nerve-ending in your body was fucking screaming at the tease.

 He paused for a moment, sitting back and studying you intently, slowly pumping his engorged member and spreading glistening precum over the velvety, blunt head with a still-bloodstained thumb. A taunting rumble emanated from under his helmet, and his length twitched in his hand. Leaning down to cup your face with one hand, the other on the root of his erection, hot and hard and throbbing against you, you could hear the smirk in Boba’s voice.

 “Oh, princess… I’m a bounty hunter. A little blood has never scared me.”

 He entered you without any further warning, one deep, agonizingly slow thrust, and it felt like you were being ripped apart from the inside in the best way. No matter how many times you’d taken him, no matter how drenched and ready you were for him, Boba Fett’s cock was massive , the biggest you’d ever had. Tears sprang to your eyes and you wrapped your arms around his neck, knees involuntarily drawing up so that you could wrap your legs around his still-clothed waist, wanting him closer and deeper despite the initial burn. He bottomed out just as he was starting to hurt beyond your threshold, just as you were considering asking him to stop, letting out a deep, low groan as his balls and the dark patch of curls surrounding them made contact with your skin. You could feel the seam of his trousers against your ass as well, the knowledge that he hadn’t even bothered to take off his pants in order to fuck you sending a thrill up your spine.

 And then he started to move.

 Boba pistoned his hips back and forth at a near-frantic pace right from the start, already grunting with the exertion, and you knew that he was trying his hardest to keep some semblance of rhythm, to not mindlessly fuck into you like a wild animal, solely focused on chasing his own orgasm. Your whole body moving with every thrust, your cloth-covered tits bouncing as he slammed into you, you looked down between your bodies and watched his thick cock slide in and out of you. Your walls squeezed and fluttered urgently as you noticed the wet sheen of your blood coating his member as he plunged deeper and deeper into you. He dragged his cock out of you until only the head was still sitting inside, then rammed back home - once, twice; you began to lose count as your mind became hazy with the pleasure.

 “Take the helmet off.” You found yourself gasping out, and Boba stopped as if he’d been frozen in time. He pulled his head back slightly to stare directly into your eyes, holding his body still above you.

 “Please,” you continued, “I want to see you, I need you to kiss me, I need to see your face, pleaseplease please, Boba-“ You chanted as if in prayer, stopping mid-sentence as you realized just how still he had become. 

 Boba gave no discernible reply, either audibly or physically, but you could still feel his surprise through your hands, the taut muscles under your touch having suddenly turned to stone. He didn’t even seem to be breathing. Panic rising in your gut, you expected him to pull himself from inside of you and push you away, to disappear into the night never to be seen again, you began to utter a quiet “I’m sorry, Bo-“ when he shushed you with a hiss, and reached down between your bodies to press his index and middle fingers to your clit, rubbing slow, lackadaisical circles over the swollen nub. He chuckled from somewhere low in his chest, both at your pleading to see his face, and your renewed mewls of ecstasy at his teasing fingers.

 “Hush, little princess. Some other time.”

 With that, he pressed his fingers into your waist and lifted you off your back with ease, scooting himself to the edge of the bed so that his legs were hanging over the side, your own positioned on either side of his waist so that you were sitting flush in his lap, your thighs pressed firmly to his, his pulsating member buried deep inside of you. Boba gave you a moment to settle in his lap and adjust to the new position, then wrapped one arm around your waist to keep you from tumbling backwards and began slamming into you with an almost murderous intensity, his other arm reaching between you and covering your pussy with his hand, using his thumb to rub frenzied circles into your engorged clit, periodically pinching and flicking. You bit back a scream and your walls clenched painfully around his cock, and buried your face in the scratchy material protecting his throat. Your head tucked underneath the lip of his helmet, you could hear Boba panting and letting out throaty little moans, the sound unaltered by his vocoder at this angle, and the rasp of his true voice made you squirm with delight, grinding back against the sharp, shallow juts up into your core.

 You felt a dampness forming on the material beneath your slack-jawed mouth as he fucked up into you; knowing that you were drooling right onto his clothing, completely cock-dumb and at the mercy of the man jackhammering into you, seemed to set off fireworks within your core. You heard a whining noise, steadily growing louder and higher-pitched as it went on, and it took a moment for you to realize that you were making that sound. Your second orgasm was building faster and faster, your own movements becoming hectic and sloppy against his rhythmic thrusting, and you persisted crying out wordlessly, rocking wildly on Boba’s lap. He continued to pound into you, growling and grunting like a beast, and that’s when you began to scream in earnest, the blunt tip of his cock finally scraping against that sweet spot deep inside your core, again and again and again. 

 Boba brought one hand up to stroke your cheek as his aggressive thrusts bounced you up and down in his lap, a soft shushing noise emanating from underneath the helmet. When that didn’t work to stifle your cries, he clamped one hand over your mouth, squeezing your face with the force of it.

 “There you go, little one. That’s it, come on… cum on my cock. Let me make you feel good…” He murmured, thrusting up into you one final time and grinding his hips in a semi-circle as he did, his glans catching against the spongy patch deep inside you again, finally setting off a volley of apocalyptic spasms throughout your cunt. You clenched painfully around Boba, your pussy fluttering, your entire body shuddering and heaving with the waves of pleasure rolling through your system. The orgasm dragged on and on as Boba continued to grind into you and you shrieked into his hand, tears rolling down your cheeks from the intensity of it. His thrusts were too overstimulating, bordering on painful, as the spasms finally began to ebb, but Boba’s movements had become increasingly erratic, his own grunts louder, and finally - with a muttered curse in a guttural language you didn’t recognize - he harshly yanked himself out of your still-spasming cunt and pressed his cock against your belly. Streaks of Boba’s cum spurted up, leaving his mark all over the front of your nightie. When he was sure his cock had been milked for all it was worth, just before he began to go soft, Boba quickly lifted your ass up with one hand and sank you back down onto him, causing you to gasp and rut against him several times in your overstimulated state. He stilled you by wrapping an arm around your waist, resting his chin atop the crown of your hair, both of you completely exhausted and unable to even consider a second round anytime soon.

 For a few minutes afterwards, you were pliant and vulnerable in his arms, your cheek pressed against the cool armor of his breastplate, shivering both with delight and the aftershocks of your climax. Boba’s own chest heaved as he attempted to catch his breath, his fingers running up and down your back, occasionally wiping the sweat and tears away from your face. You found yourself clinging desperately to his shoulder pauldrons, silently willing him not to move, to finally stay the night by your side. Neither one of you spoke, but you didn’t need to. You could have fallen asleep in his lap like this, legs dangling on both sides of his hips, his cock still inside of you, a strangely comforting sense of fullness. 

 It was too good to last, of course. With a relaxed sigh, Boba shifted, slowly lifting you off his cock. He left your opening with a wet pop , a mixture of pinkish menstrual blood and both of your arousals dribbling down the inside of your thigh as he flopped you down on the bed, stretching lazily as if he hadn’t just fucked your brains out. He stalked off to the bathroom without a word, probably to wash your blood off of himself. You closed your eyes for a moment, almost on the cusp of sleep and still sniffling from the tears your powerful orgasm had brought on, when you heard soft bootsteps returning from the other room, followed by the feeling of a damp cloth between your legs, gently cleaning your wrecked sex. You sighed softly at the unexpected sensation, and hummed contentedly when the cloth was removed and a warm hand settled itself over your lower belly, kneading the sore flesh there. 

 “Feeling better, cyar’ika?” Boba asked, and his tone made your heart ache. This affection was something fairly new, and you gave an affirmative, sleepy murmur in response. He had never called you that name before - he’d never even called you your actual name before - and you wondered what it meant, but knew you would only receive a brooding stare if you deigned to ask. You were too tired to consider it, anyway. You doubted you could stay awake for much longer.

 The hand withdrew from your tummy, and as your eyes fluttered closed, you saw Boba standing over you, looking every bit the fearsome warrior. He reached out and tapped his fingers under your chin delicately, and you heard the sound of spurs moving across the room, away from your bed.

 “ Good. ”

 He was gone in the morning, of course. 

 It had been silly to think maybe you’d open your eyes and see him sitting in the chair across the room, waiting for you to wake up.

 The only sign that someone else had been there at all was the delicious ache between your legs that always lasted for several days after one of Boba’s visits and the lingering scent of post-coital musk in the air, as well as a few bloodstains on the sheets and dried cum on your nightshirt that you hoped would come out in the wash. 

 And last night’s underwear had mysteriously vanished.

 You thought you had a vague idea of where it might’ve ended up.

[demoneyesanddamagedsouls]

Ok so I’ve been trying to find a fic like this somewhere but it’s kinda weird so I haven’t seen any- just like Din and you living together on the crest for a while and your always wearing pants/long sleeves even when it’s hot, and one day he sees you after you come out of thfresher wearing a short sleeve shirt and notices self harm scars 🥺 and he’s really concerned at first because he doesn’t quite know what they are but then he figures it out and he tries to listen to you and your story/ past.

Hi there Anon!

First off, thank you so much for being my first ever fic request!

Secondly, oh my goodness I love this prompt! This is something I have struggled with as well so I loved writing how I picture Din reacting to finding out and looking after you.

I really hope you enjoy my interpretation of this fic! Please let me know if you have any feedback for me as well. I’m always open to critique! And if you ever need anyone to talk to, I am always here, please know you never have to face this alone. ❤️❤️❤️

***

The Strength of You

Pairing: Din Djarin (The Mandalorian) x Gender Neutral! Reader

Warnings: Triggering Topics. Self harm scars, revealing & touching of scars, talking about self harming

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Steam filled your senses as you felt the boiling water run through your hair. You hummed to yourself as you washed off the grease and grime of the day in the small fresher. It had been a long day of fixing small parts on the ship and greasing tough gears, you were exhausted but your mind was full. It had been almost a week since you’d seen Din and your sadness weighed on your heart, you missed him dearly. He had kissed you on the forehead and left 5 days ago saying that this could be a longer hunt as the bounty he was chasing was cunning and smart, unlike some of the more hopeless ones he had to find. You recalled the soft touch of his lips on your skin as you pictured his soft smile.

Turning off the shower and hopping out slowly, you picked up your towel and dried yourself off. Pulling on your cargo shorts and a t-shirt that was just a little too big for you, you turned your eyes to yourself reflected in the mirror. This wasn’t something you usually wore, normally opting for some more covered and conservative attire, and it made you feel a little uncomfortable and exposed, so you were fiddling with the edges of the shirt sleeves attempting to pull them down lower. No one’s going to see you, you’re not going to be leaving the ship, you thought to yourself. Not that you really did when Din was on a hunt unless you and the little one ran out of food or you needed certain parts or tools for a particularly tough job. Anyway it was laundry day, and you were just going to have to deal with it. Sighing to yourself you leant down to pick up your holster with the small gun resting inside. You always kept it on you in case you needed it, especially with the type of people Din usually had to deal with. Suddenly you hear some small coos coming from further away in the ship. You roll your eyes to yourself. That adorable little gremlin can’t give you 5 minutes of your own space for a quick shower. You chuckle to yourself.

“Coming little one!” You call out as you quickly buckle your holster to your hip. Dashing out to go find your impatient little baby you close the fresher door behind you and spin around, coming face to face with the masked Mandalorian. The little baby was held in his arms, a small hand wrapped around his leather gloved finger. You freeze in a panic, your face paralysed in shock. He was home early. You’d be ecstatic to see him so soon if you weren’t dressed like you were. Exposed. He had never seen you without your usual long sleeves and pants. Even in the darkness of many nights on the ship you’d kept yourself covered. Din had never pushed you to do anything you didn’t want to do and becoming more exposed was included in that. Just as you had never pushed him to remove his helmet. There was a mutual understanding and respect between you. After many months together as you and Din had grown closer, he had begun to take his mask off around you. He wanted you to see his face, he wanted to be able to see yours without the obstruction of the helmet. He wanted to kiss you, rest his chin in the crook of your neck as he held you close. You didn’t know why you couldn’t bring yourself to show him more of yourself. But it seemed that fate had taken matters into its own hands.

Din swiftly comes to meet you, excited to see you after such a long hunt especially considering he had received bad information. The bounty hadn’t been on this planet, so he’d returned to the ship empty handed and missing your smile and your gentle touch. The little green baby resting in the crook of his elbow, his eyes meet yours behind the mask. He noticed the panicked expression on your face and his happiness dissipated, swiftly changing to concern. Immediately worried about your safety he looked you over, all of a sudden noticing your attire. This was the most he’d ever seen of you. His eyes flick to the scars littering the length of your forearms and along the top of your thighs.

His concern is instantly mixed with anger. “Who did this to you? I knew I shouldn’t have been gone that long… What happened?” Din says his voice modulated by the helmet, but even still you could hear the rage rising in his tone. You don’t respond, your mouth is dry, and your head is spinning. He reaches for the blaster on his hip with one hand as he holds the little baby in the other. “Who did this? Who could have hurt you like this?!” His voice reaches a fever pitch and out of instinct you start backing away pulling yourself into the security of the wall behind you, moving away from the Mandalorian in front of you, seething with anger. You knew it wasn’t directed at you but you needed to get away from his anger, it was only making you panic more, your heartbeat quickly rising.

Din’s focus flicks back to you as he sees you moving away, away from him. Shaking his head, frustrated at himself, he starts to walk slowly towards you.

You keep your eyes trained on the floor trying to calm yourself as you watch his feet move towards you, boots clicking on the metal floor. Inches away from your face you hear him slowly remove his helmet, the hiss of the vacuum seal unlocking and the metal clanging to the floor, his gloves quickly following. Raising your eyes, you meet his deep brown ones, full of worry and anguish, his little brown curls resting haphazardly across his face and his brows furrowed in concern, highlighting the soft lines of age across his sharp features. As you look at each other the baby reaches out for you, making a small noise to get your attention. You smile softly at him and pull him into your embrace, resting him on your arm. As you hold onto the little one Din takes your other arm and looks it over, brushing his calloused fingers across your forearm and the raised scars that adorn your soft skin. Following the trail he kneels down to analyse the markings on your upper thighs. Lightly gripping your thighs in his warm palms, he brushes across your skin, softly caressing you with his bare thumbs. Keeping his hands rested where they were Din looks back up at you a forlorn expression across his features. You release the breath you didn’t realise you were holding as you meet his gaze. He didn’t have to say anything, his eyes simply said I’m here for you. Taking a deep breath, you gather up the courage to tell him everything you’d been holding back. Holding back from the man that you loved.

“Din I- I did this to myself… it was something that I used to cope with everything I was feeling.” The words tumbling out of your mouth, like a dam breaking, filling up the void of noise with your words. “I felt like I was spinning out of control and this was the only way I could ground myself. Its how I used to distract myself from the overwhelming amount of emotional pain I was feeling.” You look deep into his eyes as you continue, tears starting to spill out down your cheeks, “I felt stupid, lonely and worthless, drifting through space never knowing where to go or what to do, uncertain of everything I did. I didn’t know how to vent these emotions, so I took it out on myself. I felt so useless, and I wanted to punish myself for that.” You pause looking at Din through a glassy tear-filled vision. “I’ve never had someone who cared enough about me to talk about this. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about this sooner, but I was scared… scared of losing you…” You whisper, your own words catching in your throat.

A stray tear rolled down Din’s cheek as he reached up to wipe some of the wetness off your face, water welling up in the corner of his eyes. Your heart falls to pieces at the sight. The strongest man you knew, well the strongest man in the whole galaxy, and here he was, knelt in front of you weeping at the words that you had just shared with him. “Little one… don’t you see? These are your battle scars, they make you who you are!” He smiles up at you softly, “It means you fought and fought, but you got back up. You’re a survivor… just like me…” He trails off, his gaze full of love and adoration as he looks up at you. A smile breaks out across your face, full of relief at finally relieving the weight of this huge burden off of your chest. For the first time in your life you had someone to share in everything, someone to confide in, someone to be your true self around.

You kneel slowly, baby still curled up in your arm making gentle snoring noises, to join him there on the floor. Taking his cheek into your hand, you place a gentle kiss on his soft lips. He pulls you in closer and deepens it, trying to express all the love he felt in his heart, all his admiration for you, for the strength you had. Both of you getting lost in the emotion of it all. You both pull away inhaling softly as you both catch your breath, holding each other’s gaze.

“You are so strong my little one… cyar’ika how could you possibly think I wouldn’t love every part of you? You never have to hide yourself from me. You’re so beautiful, so brave… I could live forever in the sunshine that you radiate every day.” A warm smile spreading across his face, revealing the soft dimples that adorned his cheeks. Resting his hand on the top of your leg, just below your shorts, he caresses your skin once more. Reassuring you with his gentle touch. “These scars are just as beautiful as the rest of you, because they’re a part of you. I love you my cyare. You’re my everything…”

[something-tofightfor]

Magnetic; Din’s POV - Part 2 (Chapter 3)

Pairing: None... but Din meets you in person for the first time, so that counts, right? 

Word Count: 5,459

Rating: None, really. Some thoughts of canon-typical violence, Bo-Katan being a horrible bitch. 

Summary: Agreeing to spend time with Grogu is one thing - telling Bo-Katan that he’s leaving Mandalore to do it? Another entirely. When he meets you face to face for the first time, he’s got a lot to consider, but from the very beginning, you’re not at all what he’s expecting. 

Author’s note:

So this.... got a lot more of a response than I thought it would. I’m so glad. I love getting inside of the tin can, and making Din more than a Mandalorian. We know what we can see... but hearing things from him? Experiencing them WITH him? Even better. Thank you so much for your feedback and for reading this.  I want to cover a lot of the main events in this, but also would like to include some of the more ... laid back time? Because Din and Grogu aren’t always around Reader .... so there’s a lot to explore. If there are any specific scenes that you’re DYING to know about from his point of view, please feel free to send a message or leave a comment, and I’ll be sure to include them. 

He paced the confines of the room he’d rented in Nevarro, arms crossed over his chest. Sure, he could have just stayed on the ship - like he usually did - but he knew that when you and the kid landed on the planet, you’d be staying in the inn. I don’t want to be so far from him. Din sighed, using the bare fingers of one hand to rub at his eyes. He’d landed early, arriving the early morning hours the day that you and Grogu were scheduled to get there, Cara meeting him as soon as he’d settled the Razor II onto the sandy surface of the planet and walking slowly back toward the town with him.  He hadn’t brought much with him from the ship; just a small bag of the things he’d absolutely need, along with the Darksaber, his rifle and the blaster. She hadn’t spoken on the walk back aside from saying hello and that it was good to see him, and so Din hadn’t either, his mind focused on the fact that in a few short hours, he’d get to see the kid again after a year apart. Cara had showed him to his room, unlocking the door before handing him the key and telling him that the room was on her and Karga for as long as he needed it. Won’t be here for long. Just … here to get him. Despite his unease, it hadn’t taken Din long to fall into a light and restless sleep, stretched out on the bed in a way that wasn’t possible on the ship, even when he slept in the actual sleeping quarters. It’s the bed. It’s the noise. His dreams were filled with Grogu’s wide eyes, the swish of the Jedi’s cape, and the sound of your voice, telling him that you weren’t a Jedi, but you cared about the kid. He woke up to the air in the room slightly warmer than it had been before the sun was fully up, but Din was surprisingly alert, memories of the dream lingering. Does she? Could she care about him as much as I do?  He slept on the ship, but it was almost too quiet for him. He knew that he should have been used to it - after traveling through hyperspace and the stars for so long by himself, but Grogu’s presence for so many months had changed the sounds of the ship, and Din had been reluctant to admit that after he’d gone, the silence wasn’t as welcome anymore. Instead, it was almost suffocating at times. But not on Mandalore. Not here. He groaned, standing, and began to pace again, the light filtering in through the small cracks around  the windows and beneath the door a bright, warm color. They have to be almost… almost here. He knew that Cara would come and get him when it was time to wait for the second ship to land, but until that happened, Din busied himself thinking about the previous week - and what it had taken him to get to Nevarro in the first place. Bo-Katan hadn’t been happy about his decision to up and leave Mandalore to go and get Grogu, and she’d been even less happy that he’d be bringing someone back with the two of them. But it doesn’t matter, because he’s … my … “Dank farrik!” He growled the words, dropping back onto the edge of the bed and burying his face in his hands. The kid was something to me … but is he now? --- The morning after speaking to you and Skywalker, Din sought out the redheaded woman early, skipping out on his morning meal to be sure that he caught her as she left her training session. She woke before he did - always - and her routine was set, meaning that the man knew where to find her. Nearly vibrating with a mixture of excitement and apprehension, Din waited along the wall of the room that she and Axe used most often for sparring, the woman preferring the confines of the walls to open air.  He didn’t understand it - the Mandalorian had always preferred to train outside, using the environment to his advantage whenever possible, but Bo-Katan was different. Doesn’t matter. She caught sight of him when she stood, reaching out with one hand to pull the other man to his feet before slowly making her way across the room, arms swinging at her sides and a sheen of sweat glistening on her brow. “Mando.” With a quick jerk of her head, she planted her feet and faced him. “You’re here early.” “I am.” He knew that she could hear the tone of his voice - even through the helmet - and Din continued quickly. “I … I heard from the Jedi last night. From Skywalker. About …” “About the kid?” There was a faint hint of concern in her tone, and Din nodded, feeling his chest constrict. “Everything OK?” “Yes.” The man paused. “No. I don’t know. It -” Bo-Katan’s eyes narrowed, but the expression wasn’t unkind; instead it was full of intrigue. “They … I’m going to get him. Next week. He’s going to spend a few months with me, on the Razor II and then I’m going to bring him here.” “You’re what?” The intrigue was gone, replaced with disbelief. “You’re going to leave? We’re in the middle of -” He looked past her, listening as the woman’s tone changed and the volume of her voice increased, frustration lacing every word. Axe was gone, the room empty aside from the two of them. I guess we’re talking about this now. “You need to be here, with us, planning for -” “No, I don’t.” He set his shoulders, rising to his full height. “And me leaving is good for everyone.” “How?” Her cheeks were red, upper lip curled in a snarl. “Leaving us to do all the -” “It makes it look like we’re really not trying anything. It makes us look disorganized, like retaking the planet isn’t my priority.” Was it ever really? “It gives you a chance to keep doing what you’re doing, and it makes it look like you and I aren’t working together.” He sighed. “But really, it … I’m showing people that family - my clan - is the most important thing to me, I’m … bringing him here.” I want to have him… with me. He’d thought a lot about it in the short time he’d been awake, and Din knew that even though it made sense in his mind, it likely wouldn’t to the woman. She just wants Mandalore. She doesn’t care how it happens. “This is The Way. I’m going. Grogu and I are …” “What if he doesn’t want to be here?” Her words were cruel, but Din forced himself not to react, even though they sent a chill through his entire body. “What if he sees you again, and doesn’t want to leave his -” “Then that’s his choice.” Din swallowed. I don’t want that. But I … would accept it.  “It always will be.” He waited, seeing what else she was going to say, but the woman stayed quiet, hands curled into fists at her sides. “I told you I’d help you retake the planet. I gave you my word.” “And then you took the Darksaber.” She whispered the words, eyes glittering. “You faced Gideon, you ruined my plans, and now you want me to wait? While you run around the galaxy with your kid?” “Yes.” Din cocked his head to the side, deciding that he was done with the conversation. “I’ll look for others like us while I’m out there, send them here, to you and Koska and Axe. To the others.” He said her name, closing his eyes, even though she couldn’t see him do it. Doesn’t matter. “You can reach me on the ship if you need me. But I’m going. And I’m bringing Grogu back here along with the woman that’s bringing him back to me.” He thought that he’d get more pushback from her, more anger, but instead Bo-Katan’s shoulders relaxed, a slow smile spreading over her lips as she arched an eyebrow.  “You’re the Mand’alor, you make the decisions.” --- They hadn’t spoken much for the remainder of the week, and Din knew that she was still unhappy, but he didn’t care. Because I was always coming here. She wasn’t going to stop me. Grogu not wanting to see him or be with him was his greatest fear, but even as the thoughts occurred to him, he was able to push them away. They could have canceled. But they didn’t the’re almost here. He’s almost here. Reaching into the pouch at his waist, Din’s fingers closed around the metal sphere, his breathing evening out. He’s my... aliit. It will be fine. But as much as the man hoped that would be the truth, he wasn’t entirely sure - and it had nothing to do with Bo-Katan’s words. When Cara’s knock came, Din was ready. He’d packed a small bag with a canteen and some snacks for Grogu, slinging it over his shoulder before heading toward the archway that led into town. There were two speeders waiting - like he’d requested, and Din wasted no time putting his bag into one of the sidebags, leaving the other open for Grogu. He didn’t know if the kid had had the chance to ride on a speeder in the time that they’d been apart, but the man knew that before, it was one of his favorite methods of transportation. It’ll give us time. Time to… He lowered his head briefly and then raised it, turning toward the open sky and stepping away from the speeders. The Mandalorian saw the ship before he heard it, a glint of silver against the otherwise blue sky, and he shifted his weight as he watched it land, smoothly coming to a stop thirty yards from him, a small cloud of dust rising into the air. Pilot’s good. It only took a few minutes for the ramp to begin descending, and at the movement, Din felt himself heading toward the ship, drawn to the growing rectangle of darkness. He’s here. He’s back. Before the ramp even hit the sand, Din heard Grogu and then saw him, fighting to keep his composure. Oh, you got big, kid. The sounds he made were ones Din was familiar with, cooing and crying, but relief surged through the man as he realized that they were happy sounds, in addition to the other excited ones that the kid was making.  As the Grogu’s arms opened to him, Din dropped to one knee, reaching out with one hand.”Grogu.” It left his lips before he could stop it, the sound catching in his throat, but he didn’t care, and as soon as he felt the material of the kid’s robe beneath his fingers, Din’s emotions spilled over, tears leaking from his eyes and over his cheeks beneath the helmet, even though he made no sound. The kid was thrilled, Din could feel it, and even though he was taller, he was still short enough that Din had to lift him to get as close as he wanted to. Hey, kid. Welcome back. Trying to collect himself, Din blinked his tears away and stood, holding Grogu so that he could stare at him through the helmet. Without warning, Grogu reached out with both hands, Din lowering his head to rest the front of his helmet on the kid’s forehead, still unwilling to close his eyes. Oh, Maker. Dank farrik. They stayed like that for long moments, Din trying to collect himself, lengthening his breaths. But he knew that his shoulders shook, knew that the kid had likely felt it, and that you’d probably seen it, too. Wait, I haven’t… He straightened up, finally tearing his eyes away from Grogu and looking at you. She’s… He swallowed. She’s watching, but she’s not trying to get close. “Thank you.” He said your name, not recognizing the sound of his voice. “For bringing him ho...here.” It was a slip that he figured you’d caught, but Din didn’t care. “Of...of course.” Stepping closer, you gave him an easy smile, but he caught the pain in your eyes, hidden deep behind the happiness he saw as you looked between the two of them. “Of …” You swallowed hard, moving closer. “I’m more than happy to… And look how happy he is. Totally worth it.” The kid was facing you, Din cradling him in the crook of his elbow. Got heavy. “Right, kid?” You were just as good as him at hiding your emotions with the right words, but as Din watched you, he realized how much his helmet helped overall. This is hard for her. Grogu’s grip on his arm tightened as he spoke next, but the man forced himself to go on. “Your things, are they on the... are his things -” You cut him off, something that Din was grateful for, telling him that he needed to go, to spend time with Grogu, that you’d take care of unloading everything from your ship and getting it into town. She knows… knows how much I need this, how much… But as Din listened to you talk, he began to wonder how much of it was because you knew how much the kid meant to him… and how much of it was because of what you could do.  You told him you understood his need for privacy, and Din made a note to ask you if you could read his mind the next time he saw you, but as the moments passed, all he wanted was to talk to Grogu - to climb onto the speeder and head off into the desert, stopping only when they were far enough away that it was safe to take the helmet off. Because I’m going to. As much as possible with him. You agreed to meet him at sundown in the cantina, telling him there was no hurry, and without speaking, Din turned away, holding Grogu more tightly as he walked toward the speeder. Your words echoed in his ears even as he loaded the kid into the bag, securing the straps. She understands. He swiped a hand over the kid’s head and then swung a leg over the speeder seat, hands gripping the bars. With a kick and a twist, Din brought the vehicle to life, turning it smoothly away from where it was parked and pointing it toward the open landscape. He couldn’t hear the kid, but a quick glance down as they picked up speed told him everything he needed to know - the top of Grogu’s head peeking out, ears flapping in the wind. This is … perfect. Cheeks still wet with the last of his tears, Din couldn’t hold back the smile from his face as they sped away from the town, the sun warm on his back.  --- He stopped the speeder near an outcropping of rocks after nearly fifteen minutes, figuring that he’d gone far enough. He toed the kickstand into place and then dismounted, quickly unbuckling the bag and moving to place Grogu on the ground, but instead of letting him, the child grabbed hold of the Mandalorian’s cape, clawed fingers curling into the material. “Ok, kid. That’s fine.” Stepping into the shade, Din lowered himself to sit with his back against the rocks, Grogu still facing him. The kid’s eyes were wide, mouth open, and his head was cocked to the side, but the man could tell that he was happy. Let’s get this sand off of you. Removing his gloves and laying them down next to his thigh, Din began to brush the sand from Grogu’s robes, straightening them at the same time. Oh, wait. Continuing with one of them, Din raised the other, pressing the button beneath the chin of the helmet and lifted it off - again with no hesitation. “Sorry about that, pal. I’m still not used to…” But he went silent as Grogu reached for him, the man picking him back up so that he could lay the same hand as before on Din’s cheek. “It’s me, see?” He smiled, lips twitching into an almost grin at the sound of contentment Grogu made. “I can show you now, you know?” Din went quiet, letting Grogu look at him, and in turn, gazing back at the kid. There’s so much to tell you, pal. He watched Grogu blink, the huge eyes moving over Din’s face, head moving back and forth like he was trying to take everything in at once. I wish you could hear me like you can hear Ahsoka and your new friend. It would be so much easier. He didn’t know where to start or what to say, but he realized that for the first time in many months, he felt whole, having the small bundle back in his arms again. “Missed you, kid. When you went with the Jedi?” Din shook his head, frowning. “I know you had to go, and I told you it was ok, but that didn’t…” He trailed off. Mandalorians don’t do this. We don’t … “It was still hard.” He felt Grogu’s hand drop, and Din lowered him, the kid’s feet shuffling forward on his lap. “I’m sure you���ve been doing all kinds of Jedi things, right? Magic and making friends and …” But he stopped again, feeling as the child turned and tucked his face against the beskar covering Din’s chest. “That can’t be comfortable for you, pal. Let me -” But Grogu made a quiet noise and Din’s voice faltered, the weight of the small green figure comforting, even through the armor. “Alright. You can stay like that. Just for a little while.” As they sat in the shade of the rocks, Din realized that for the first time since the two of them had met, there was nowhere to be - no one was chasing them - and he was free to relax with the other member of his clan. You and me again, kid. Welcome home. --- He’d wanted to stay out in the sun with Grogu for as long as possible, but as the light began to change - rays slanting at a different angle over the landscape around them, he’d told the kid that it was time to head back. “I want to clean myself up, pal.” He scooped Grogu up - the child protesting loudly at the motion - and started walking back to the speeder. “You know how it is on the ship. There’s a real shower in my room here.” The Razor II had a fresher, sure, but it was small and cramped, and despite the fact that he made it work, Din knew that with two adults on the ship, rationing the water would be more difficult. So they’d had ridden back to Nevarro, though the Mandalorian had taken the longer route, looping through the desert much to Grogu’s delight before parking the speeder back where they’d been taken from. “You look tired, pal.” Din watched as Grogu yawned, eyes blinking closed. “You can sleep while I’m in there. Then you’ll be awake when we go meet your friend.” He said your name and the kid perked up, eyes darting to the door. No, she’s not here. But … is she close? Can you… He didn’t know what the level of your connection with the kid was, or what you could hear when it came to him, and that was one of the things that he intended to find out that night. “Cara’s going to come see you tonight, too.” Grogu made another excited noise, but then settled down into the blankets within the pod, pulling them up to his chin. “Yeah. That’s good.” He locked the door behind them, closing the blinds tightly and then began the process of undressing, following the same routine he’d adopted on Mandalore. By the time he was down to his undershirt and pants along with the helmet, Grogu was half asleep, breathing deep and even. You must have been trouble on that ship coming here. I bet you didn’t sleep much. With one final look at the drowsy child, Din stepped past him and into the bathroom, locking the door before he removed the helmet again. --- He was used to the way rooms went silent when he entered them; the way that people averted their eyes and found other things to look at until he’d passed. But she isn’t doing that. He watched as you turned toward them, seeking out Grogu, your eyes lighting up and a smile overtaking your face as you found him, the kid leaning forward to wave at you as Din moved through the room, closer to your table. She’s focused on him and that’s it. But he watched as you hesitated, pulling your arms back instead of lifting the kid from the pod, and Din frowned beneath the helmet. Why? “Can I sit?” He didn’t know why he asked, but when you gave him the go ahead, he didn’t hesitate, settling into his seat as you watched him, eyes on his visor. She didn’t look away. He didn’t either, even though there was no way for you to know it, and as the room came back to life, Din eyed you closely for the first time, trying to get a read on you. You started talking to Grogu, asking him if he’d eaten, and the man realized that despite what you’d seen and heard so far, you were treating it like a regular day - tone even, focus directed at Grogu, even though you were holding back. Her shoulders are stiff. She’s… anxious, but not about me.. He interjected into your conversation, letting you know that he’d fed the kid, but when you interrupted yourself to introduce the pilot, it surprised Din. He turned his head slightly toward the second woman, glancing at her before he looked back at you. You leaned in as he spoke, but were careful not to crowd him, and even though Din was speaking to the other woman, he was interested in you, keeping his eyes on your face, though the visor was pointed toward Terys. Is she trying to figure out what I’m thinking? Is she listening? He had plenty to hide - plenty in his head that he wanted to keep locked away, but he’d already made up his mind. Even if she knows everything, it’s worth it to have the kid back.  Cara’s voice cut through his thoughts, and Din’s attention shifted again, watching as the woman lifted the child from the pod, but he could feel the pilot’s eyes on him, her gaze no different than the others in the cantina or those he passed on the street that were admiring the armor. Of course. He was shocked to hear that Karga would be joining you that night, and at that, Din decided that he needed to speak to you, finding out where you stood before the second part of his plan was revealed to you. The sooner, the better. Then I can… You agreed to go outside with him immediately, following him through the crowded space, the silence following both of you. I’ll have to tell her to get used to it. When you stopped a dozen yards from the cantina’s entrance, Din turned to face you, giving you a few seconds to look him over as he did the same to you. She doesn’t look… like Skywalker. I don’t … feel the same thing I … “I’ve heard about you. About people like you …” He began speaking, and to your credit you didn’t flinch, even though you seemed surprised he was being so direct.  By the time he asked you if you could read his mind, Din’s own thoughts were chaotic, twisting and turning inside of his head. If she can, she’s… “Can I try?” He hadn’t thought you’d need to ask him for permission, but when you explained why, and what he needed to do to protect himself, he was stunned. I haven’t felt anything like that. He blinked rapidly as he gave you permission, standing as still as possible and waiting, but nothing happened. She knows Grogu’s seen my face, but seems to understand that it’s… she knows more than I thought she would. But when you asked to touch him - through the material of his glove - he was lifting his hand before he could stop himself. I need to know. You touched his hand and the only thing he felt was the pressure of your fingers and palm against his. Din watched as you closed your eyes, taking a deep breath, but after only a few seconds, you shook your head, the single word “Grogu” leaving your lips. That’s all? That’s all you can… It was a relief to him that the beskar he wore blocked his thoughts from you for the most part, but a small part of Din was disappointed at the same time. Another … separation. It was yet another way he was disconnected from the rest of the galaxy, and even though it meant that he wouldn’t have to carefully hide his thoughts from you every day and night, he realized that part of him had hoped for it to be different. Even … just a little bit. At your excitement about a quiet trip, Din smiled beneath the helmet, watching as your eyes again lit up, cheeks rounding as you grinned up at him before chewing on your lower lip. At least she’s excited. The rest of the conversation went smoothly - and as Din filled you in on the plans moving forward, he was surprised at the ease that you accepted his decision to bounty hunt with. I figured she would tell me it was too dangerous for the kid. He was equally surprised at the fact that you didn’t get offended when he mentioned trust to you, especially when he found out that you’d never met another Mandalorian before.  But what threw him, Din sucking in a quick breath at the words, was your apology for what you figured was disrespectful by not calling him by his title. No one calls me by my title, because it’s not … not really my title. Yet. He didn’t miss the subtle tug upwards at the corners of your mouth as you called him Mando for the first time, and his eyebrow raised in response to the way it sounded leaving your mouth - like you were already comfortable using it. ---  He talked business with Karga while Grogu slept on his lap, and even though you stayed quiet for the most part, he could tell you were engaged in the conversation. Wonder what Greef’s thinking. They negotiated payment, and just as Din was about to remind the other man that he’d have time for a few rounds of pucks, he heard you groan quietly, addressing the pilot as she made it back to the table, one hand reaching out to stop the woman from leaning in too close. What does she … oh.  Din quickly transferred the sleeping child back into his pod, closing the top of it as the pilot continued to make her move. He didn’t look at her until he spoke, and from the corner of his eye, Din saw Cara and Karga disappearing toward the bar, leaving you to handle the situation. “I’m not… interested.” It was the kindest way he knew to put a stop to the woman’s advances, and as he looked into the woman’s eyes, he saw them flash with disappointment. It’s been a while, but… not tonight. Not with the kid back, not with… her. You stood, quickly interrupting and telling Din that you’d see them in the morning and in an instant, he was looking back at you, searching your face. What does she… He saw you look at Grogu’s pod, and Din immediately went to unlink it from his armor, but you stopped him. What? Staying with me? You were convinced he’d sleep through the night, convinced that the kid wouldn’t seek you out, and so Din didn’t fight you on it, instead settling down against the chair back, thinking. She stopped herself from picking him up, she’s just letting him stay with me. That isn’t … she shouldn’t… But the man’s thoughts were interrupted as the pilot touched his shoulder, Din’s body going rigid at the contact. He saw you flinch, too, and realized that you’d seen his reaction. She’s good. Without giving him a chance to say goodnight, or even to tell you which ship was his, Din watched as you helped the other woman through the still crowded space, not bothering to look back over your shoulder before you left. That was … interesting. He sat at the table in silence for a few seconds, but before he could get up, he heard Cara’s voice from behind him. “Pilot wanted to go back to your room with you, Mando.” She was laughing, shaking her head back and forth as she sat back down. “I know.” Cara watched him, waiting with one eyebrow raised, lifting her glass to take a long drink. “Not a good idea.” She snorted, rolling her eyes. “You can loosen up a little, you know that, right? Might be good for you.” He knew that she was joking with him - she’d done the same thing on Sorgan, with Omera. But look how that turned out. Even if I would have wanted to stay … Din lifted his hand and shrugged a shoulder. “It’s good to see you again, Mando.” Cara’s tone softened. “The two of you, I mean.” He turned his head toward the pod, still sealed, meaning that Grogu was sound asleep. Yeah. I know what you mean. “Can she …” He raised his head, once again looking at the woman. “Does her trick work on you?” “No.” He paused. “Not really. She knew I was thinking about Grogu, but -” “Everyone knows you’re always thinking about the little womp rat, Mando. What if it’s bullshit? What if she’s just -” “I don’t think it is.” He’d seen the way you and Grogu looked at each other, had seen the subtle changes in expression on both of your faces while everyone else was talking. “She has no reason to lie to me. And Skywalker… she was there, Cara. With them. They wouldn’t -” The woman raised her hands - and her brows. “I’m just … Mando, you’ve got a lot to handle, especially with Mandalore, and Bo -” I don’t want to think about that right now. “I know.” He gritted his teeth. “But the kid seems to trust her, so I have to … give her a chance.” He drummed his fingers on the table, letting amusement creep back into his tone. “You attacked me the first time we met, and I still gave you a second chance.” She laughed at that, picking up her glass and draining her ale before she stood, moving to his side of the table. “That’s true.” She set a hand on his shoulder, the man managing not to move at the touch. “Get that kid back to your room.” She cleared her throat. “Cantina’s no place for him this late at night.” She moved away before he could reply, but Din realized she was right - that it was time to go. Especially if we’re leaving early. There was no tab to pay, so when Din stood and walked from the table toward the door, the kid’s pod floating in front of him, no one stopped him. The inn was barely a two minute walk from the cantina, and as he passed room 5 - where the pilot was staying, he didn’t even glance at it. No reason to. His room was silent and dark, but as Din got ready for bed, once again taking off all of the armor piece by piece, he realized that it didn’t need to be. Reaching over, he pressed a button on his vambrance, Grogu’s pod opening to reveal his sleeping form. He could barely see the kid inside, and so Din reached over, pulling the helmet back on and pressing the button on the side to change the filter, the sleeping child coming into clear view. Hey, kid. Din rolled onto his side, folding his arm beneath his head, just watching Grogu as he slept, the rise and fall of his chest beneath the blanket in tune with the quiet snores. His helmet amplified the sound, and that night, Din fell asleep without even realizing it - still focused on the sight and sounds coming from the child within the pod next to the bed. 

--- 

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[capricxs]

so you’ve been roleplaying for years... things change, the way the community does things shift, and sometimes there’s new skills you need to pick up and adjust to in order to make your time rping as creatively rich and fulfilling as it can be. one of those things that’s become extremely important is plotting & hcing. either in groups, in indie, or doing 1x1s, these two are the foundation to your interaction (unless you’re the type to wing it). sometimes when i interact with people, it seems they don’t really click with this process, so in the guide below, i’ll help to explain why these are so important, and how to do it in a way that not only gives you a rich plot, but helps inspire and keep your writing partner engaged with you.

disclaimer --- this is just my personal experience and opinions being shared. i am not the end-all-be-all on how to interact with writing partners. this is just here to get people to begin thinking about things they otherwise wouldn’t have thought about.

questions regarding this help post can be found here. let’s jump in!

WHY IS PLOTTING & HCING SO IMPORTANT?

firstly, rp has changed a lot since the days of launching into an rp or writing a random starter for a new follower. things are a lot more established and regardless of if you’re in a bio/skeleton rp with pre-written connections, or you’re in a new plotless group or indie and you’re coming up with them on your own, it’s a major foundation to your writing experience, so don’t treat it lightly!

secondly, regardless of format, and with the shifts in rp culture, behind the scenes plotting & hcing is crucial to the development of your plot & characters. as writers, we take more time with our replies so development on dash happens a lot slower. personally i don’t mind that, but i don’t want that to hinder my writing experience so i like taking things behind the scenes to help build up dynamics and situations so the whole relationship isn’t based off one or two threads/instances.

lastly, it helps to keep things inspiring. sound dumb? you bet, but that’s the way the cookie crumbles baby. so many times i have plotted ships, sibling relationships, best friends, or other core relationships, and wanted to sink my teeth in relationship lore and background and dynamics, only to be returned with “hahah yes! i love that!” now i understand this is never ill-intentioned, but it does suck the muse right out the situation. if you do not validate & expand on your partner’s ideas, it’s not going to make that writer’s ideas feel appreciated or loved. the way to tell them you love their ideas? sink your teeth right back and send an equally meaty response right back!

PART ONE: SO YOU WANT TO PLOT

you don’t need this post to tell you how to come up with plot ideas, that’s a whole different guide, but let’s say you’re in the brainstorming process. you’re throwing ideas back and forth based on your muse’s two backgrounds and seeing what sticks. what is SUCH a downer, is when a writing partner is just ... not contributing. yes, we are all guilty of the line “i’m open to anything!” but try and limit yourself to using that line once in a conversation. hell, i prefer it when a person doesn’t even say it at all and they’re HONEST. if i come in guns-a-blazing and i ask ‘what plots do you need filled?’ if a person responds with ‘i need someone who hurt my muse’ there’s two option, i fill that plot, or i don’t. it’s that simple. don’t be afraid to say what you want, the worst that can happen is the person says ‘eh, i don’t really think that fits my character’ and you come up with something else! but when you’re already passionate about the idea, you’re setting yourself up for such great success!

so what do you do when your one (1) braincell isn’t working and you can’t come up with any connection ideas? two options, you can either go to one of the dozens of guides for basic connection ideas and give your partner something, or you can look at the other person’s bio, and your muse, and try and find connections between them. both of these are painfully easy! i’m a personal fan of the latter as it seems a bit more grounded and juicy than the former, but those can be twisted into something great too! **if you’re in a group setting, even asking what that person’s other connections are, and piggybacking off of that. these create super spicy connections. example: you find out muse a is muse b’s ex, and your muse, muse c, is best friends w muse b, so it’s safe to assume your muse c will probably not get along with muse a.

this important thing is not to make your partner feel like they’re doing all the work. because that’s never fun, and truthfully, it doesn’t make that person want to write with you if you’re not also putting in the elbow grease. plotting is fun, not a chore! make it a party!

PART TWO: NOW YOU HAVE TO BACK IT UP

you’ve got your plot now, congrats! and you’re so excited. but now you need that plot to be fleshed out a bit. there’s some history there so you’ve got to establish it. in comes the powerhouse--- my favorite part to this whole thing: HCING. it’s the most laid back, and in my opinion, creative part of the rping process. truthfully, i enjoy it more than threads because of the absolute insanity you can dig up. but i only love it if my partner can hand it back just as i can serve it.

maybe you’ve never quite thought that this part was that important, but i can assure you, if a person is giving you 3+ sentences about the dynamic of your characters, they’re trying to hc with you, and if you don’t enrich them, your dynamic is going to wither away.

i brought up an idea in the first part of this guide that’s extremely important to how you hc with your writing partner: VALIDATE & EXPAND. it’s the idea that no matter how much or how little your rp partner gives you in terms of an hc, you respond to it with a validation, which can range anywhere from ‘i LOVE that’ to as simple as a key smash and the pleading emotion, or even repeating a fraction of what they said to show you understand their vision. but then you have to back that up with expanding on that idea. hcs could be about a situation or about your writing partner’s character, so expand on how your character feels and reacts to things. it’s beyond discouraging when i write a whole idea out, explaining how my character feels in this emotionally intense setting, and my writing partner only gives me the validation portion, and now i have no idea how my opp’s character thinks, feels, or interacts.

see, a point i mentioned above is the fact that threads don’t work like they used to. and that’s fine! but hcing is an easy and fun way to make up for the fact that we take time with our threads now. if you’re rping to find rich, in-depth, satisfying dynamics, it’s going to take many many months to get your understanding of your opp’s muse, and the relationship they have, hcing fast tracks that process. i’m writing with you, i love your muse, give me the dirty details, i promise it’s not obnoxious. the more your give back, the more you will receive. so why wait around, sitting on our thumbs for me to fully get a grasp of your character’s voice, and your character’s thoughts, when we could do that on chat and have a grand time.

but now you’re thinking to yourself: okay, but how exactly do i validate and expand? and for that, we go to EXAMPLE-BOT 3000 !! not a real bot, unfortunately, but example bot has dug up a personal interaction i’ve had hcing. for context, this is a 1x1 writing partner i’ve had for years. we have an excellent dynamic and they are perfect. they have also given me permission to use our convos as example.

here is my message [ CONTEXT: this is a sandbox-star-wars-esque verse]

Okay but I had a thot in the shower,,, where the best thoughts are had. And what if,,, after this meeting and they part ways and such and it was just another weird occurrence in their lives, blastis gets a mission and it’s either to protecc salia or like guide salia across the galaxy to do something smth and save some lives or whatever. And ofc not because she couldn’t take care of herself but he has smth she doesn’t that gives an edge or just a close loved one of her’s didn’t want to see her get hurt. So you have these two traveling across the galaxy,,, sometimes arguing bc she can manage herself but he’s just fulfilling the mission. And them both kicking but. And all the steamy tension and cliches.

let’s break this message down before we get into the response. first, hcs don’t have to be formal. they are the most fun when they’re less together and don’t rely so much on “sounding good”. you’re just rolling off the top of your brain, chatting like you would with a friend, don’t worry too much on formalities because this isn’t the place for that.

i am also presenting my idea in a way that is confident, and with plenty of ideas to work on. i am involving my partner’s character but not godmodding. i am taking things i have learned from character introductions (like salia being independent and empowered, and wanting to do good/help others) and not disrespecting them, but having her take part in the plot. there are also small bits at the end of this idea that are little nuggets to build off of.

let’s look at my partner’s response.

AAAAH okay i love the idea!!! however shes a v. freelance kinda healer and doesnt really take official things. and she doesnt have loved ones that would know if there was danger - she can telepathically communicate with her own people but if she doesnt want them to know things they cant just. force their way in its a Closed Communication line not an open invitation into her thoughts asdfghjsh. But i could imagine that some guy or family hire her to find their children maybe who were lost on their adventure/mission with friends and the last message sounded like one was hurt,,, badly. and the other cant help for some reason. and they hire blastis to both protect her and later the people shes supposed to heal??

but anYWAY the Important part is ofc. the tension. and his big ass in her ship bc why would she?? take another if hers is right there. so hes gonna take that single bed and not complain. but ooof those two?? just kicking ass and being amazing. growing on each other more and more.

right off the bat is validation. and validation doesn’t have to be as direct as it is in this message. the validation is important here specifically, my partner showed they were interested and supportive of the idea i presented, but needed the plot to fit in their character’s story better. we see them making adjustments--- this is a collaborative experience so i alone shouldn’t be the one coming up with the plot, nor would i want my idea taken just as is. instead they mold it to fit what makes sense, getting more specific than my idea with a “mission purpose”. this is where the bouncing off of each other begins.

they then take the “bait” and start building on the tension our muses will experience (this is a ship afterall). while this is the beginning of our conversation, and there’s aren’t specific moments we’re working off of, this is setting the ground for future headcanons (see: the focus on sexual tension, living in a ship together, kicking butt), we are both mutually giving each other little tethers to take hold of. this is a very good start to begin working out the dynamic and situations these two characters are found in, with multiple different launch-off points.

CONCLUSION

there’s no right or wrong way to rp. even the tips listed here might not be applicable to your style, just having the idea in the back of your mind helps. the important thing is you and the person you’re writing with are having fun. you both are respecting each other’s time and ideas and creating a beautiful dynamic or world or relationship. this is a collaborative experience, and it’s important not to leave your partner feeling like they’re doing all the heavy lifting creatively.

hope this helped! as always, you can send me any questions you have in regards to this topic HERE. you can find a tag of answered questions in relation to this topic HERE.

[mandoalorian]

Fix You [Maxwell Lord x Reader]

Author's note: This was requested by a few people! Just a short one as I only planned on "Those Three Words" being a one shot. But I know a lot of people wanted closure for Maxwell and the reader and I understand the pain of cliff-hangers so here we go!!!

Warnings: hospital, very very brief mention of illness and suicide, mention of the loss of a loved one, Maxwell is mean but it's completely justified.

I love to write soft! Maxwell but, he is a 'villain' and so it's definitely important to me that's still displayed to some extent in my fics.

Word count: 1.6k

Rating: 13+

READ PART ONE HERE

MASTERLIST

"Mr Lord, I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

"But she's awake! I felt her hand move, I watched her stir!" Maxwell exclaimed, a mixture of excitement, worry and panic rising in his voice. A group of about eight doctors and nurses gathered around your bed and closed the curtains so Maxwell couldn't see what was going on. "Please let me stay, I have to stay with her."

"Sir," the nurse sighed, shaking her head. "It's hospital protocol."

"Do you know who I am?" Maxwell spat angrily. "I'm not going anywhere."

"Mr Lord, I really don't want to have to call hospital security… but if you're giving me no choice…" the nurse's hand dropped to the pager on her belt and Maxwell curled his fingers into a fist feeling nothing but anger and defeat.

"I'll be outside." he mumbled, slouching his shoulders and slowly leaving your hospital room. He sighed, leaning against the cool wall.

Looking around, the corridor was completely desolate. Maxwell wiped a tear that had fallen from his eye, taking a deep breath. It was going to be okay. You were the strongest person he knew. You had fought many tougher battles before. He tried to remain certain that you would get through it— only he wasn't. How could he have hope?

Maxwell Lord had loved and he had lost, over and over again. To the point he had completely shut out the possibility of any attachment to anyone, until he met you. He had lost his father to suicide at the tender age of sixteen, and then lost his mother to a fierce illness when he was only twenty five. He was a divorced man who had lost custody of his son. He'd lost so many people, he had been so close to giving up himself. You were his light. His angel. You changed him for the better.

He couldn't believe how it had all gone so wrong. How the fight had even started. If he lost you now, he would never have been able to forgive himself.

"Mr Lord," the same nurse from earlier came out of your room, along with the other nurses and doctors who were checking on you. "She's awake. She's… lightheaded, tired, but she's here. You can go see her." the nurse granted with a quick nod of her head before scurrying away.

Maxwell froze up. Now was his moment to make amends. What if you hated him. He felt the tears of guilt begin to well up in his eyes again and tried to shake the feeling away. Cautiously, he entered your room.

You were sitting in the bed, propped up by pillows. Your hair was in your face and your eyes looked heavy, but nothing beat the feeling of seeing the small smile that crept up on your lips when you saw your Maxie. Maxwell stood at the door, his eyes glazed with tears. You were wearing his pale blue suit jacket over your hospital gown, the one that he had left for you, and he swore in that moment you were the most beautiful he had ever seen you. You were alive.

"Maxie," you whispered, tears threatening to spill from your eyes. You weakly held out your arms, ushering for him to come forth and sit next to you. Maxwell sat down on the edge of your bed and took hold of your hands which were now warming up nicely. Maxwell gulped. He had so much to say, so much to apologise for, but no words could come out. "Are you okay?" you asked him with a croak, your hand coming to cup his cheek. He nuzzled his face into your hand and another tear slipped from his dark brown eyes.

"Was so scared of losing you," he admitted, closing his eyes. He couldn't bring himself to look at you. Look at the way you were tubed up and the cuts and bruises along your body. The blame was stirring up within him. "I'm so sorry."

"It's not your fault." you promised him, smiling tiredly.

"You're always so good to me," he sniffed. "Even when I don't deserve it."

"Of course you deserve it." You told him, knotting your eyebrows together and giving his hand a gentle squeeze.

"You almost died." Maxwell faltered.

"But I'm still here, aren't I?" you chuckled. "Cheer up. I thought I got you out of being such a grumpy old man." you nudged him playfully and Maxwell smiled a teary smile.

"I love you so much," Maxwell whispered, nudging his nose against yours. "I can't wait to take you home. I will fix all of this darling, I promise."

You nodded slowly. "Okay, thank you." you uttered.

The next few moments were filled with silence. Both of you gazed into one another's eyes feeling nothing but love and relief. You asked Maxwell to bring you a few changes of clothing and toiletries from home and he assured you that he'd be quick to return.

When Maxwell exited the hospital, he was greeted by an abundance of news reporters and flashing cameras practically blinding him. "Max! Maxwell Lord!" they cried as they flocked towards him. Maxwell dropped his sunglasses down and pushed through the cameras. "How is Y/N? Are you injured? The crash looks really bad? Are you paying for Y/N's health insurance?"

Maxwell scowled at the ridiculous questions, carefully manuovering through the crowds of people to try and get to his car. He'd have to drive himself home, something he didn't feel comfortable with but he wasn't about to ask Jeeves and, at the end of the day, he was doing this for you. And that was enough motivation he needed.

"Maxwell Lord, is it true that y/n is in critical condition?" a news anchor from NBC quizzed, shoving a microphone in Maxwell's face. Maxwell's head snapped to face her.

"What?" he glared sourley, anger and bitterness dripping from his tongue. He snatched the microphone from her hand, earning a small gasp to escape from her lips. "Right, is everyone listening?" Maxwell asked, raising his voice and speaking into the microphone. The crowd of journalists and paparazzi piped down to hear what the CEO had to say. "I want you to all stop with these disgusting and invasive questions. We are people too," Maxwell pointed his finger at one paparazzi. "Do you have a lady in your life?" he asked. The paparazzi nodded slowly. "And how would you feel if dozens of people were pestering her every fucking day? To the point she's afraid to leave the house or she has to triple check and make sure the doors are all locked before she can go sleep at night?" Maxwell felt the rage build up inside of you when he remembered how anxious all these people he was now confronting made you. But he had to remain calm. He knew for a fact his little speech would be broadcast on national television. The paparazzi blinked nervously. "My question wasn't rhetorical." Maxwell spat.

"I'd be upset, sir." He replied timidly.

"Upset is a fucking understatement." Maxwell crossed his arms over his chest. "This is your fucking job, harassing people? Ruining their lives? Look at yourselves! You all need a reality check. Next time you go anywhere near me or my partner you will be hearing from my lawyers. And I'll have you know, I have the best fucking lawyers." Maxwell threatened. "Am I understood?"

Maybe it was the bite in his voice, or the way he used his harsh business tone, but the crowd backed off in an instant. That was the power of Maxwell Lord. You had changed Maxwell Lord. Softened him, sweetened him… but when people were trying to hurt you, he knew his power. He knew he could and would ruin their lives.

Your recovery was slow, but sure enough, you did get better. It was difficult at first, but with Maxwell's fierce and defensive nature, the paparazzi and the news reporters began to stay away from you both. Once discharged from hospital, you were bed bound for a few weeks. Maxwell took time off work, giving you his full attention. He tried to cook you soup, but when that failed, he'd order you whatever take out you craved. When you fancied homemade food, he'd call the chef over? He did the chores that you usually did, like laundry and vacumming. You loved seeing Maxwell become so domesticated; you didn't know he had it in him, it almost made you feel a little smug. There was something about seeing a billionaire businessman angrily scrub grease from a frying pan that satisfied you. When he wasn't pottering on around the house, he was in bed with you.

He used this time to show you how much he really truly loved you. You wanted for nothing. He'd gently stroke your skin, give you soft kisses and play with your hair. And those three words you craved to hear, there wasn't a day that went by when he didn't say them.

"I love you."

Permanent taglist (let me know if you would like to be added!) ~ @supernaturalgirl @phoenixhalliwell @ah-callie @luvzoria @stardust-galaxies @wickedfrsgrl @goth-topic @nerdypinupcrystal @wonderfulfluffer @kiwi-the-first @pedroepascal

[jt-artsandfics]

Hi, I was wondering if I could get a Bad Batch Matchup?

I am 19, female, standing at 5ft 1 with short and wavy brown hair in a bob, I’m pretty pale, with many freckles and I have central heterochromia, the inner ring of the iris (the closest to my pupil) is hazel and the outer ring (along the edge of the iris) is blue. I am pretty shy when first meeting people but when I warm up to you, I’ll always try and make sure you have a smile on your face! I love to draw, write, sew and play my guitar. I usually end up being the leader in situations but I’m always listening to everyone’s ideas. However I can get pretty insecure about my looks and weight even though I weight around 55 - 60kg.

I understand if you don’t want to do it, I’m sure you are busy 😁

I feel that about being insecure about weight. I've been stuck at 49kgs for nearly 8 years becuase of my heart condition, Tyroid and other factors. It... it sucks alot. It's hard to gain muscle when you don't have any mass to use. Joys of Malnutrition.

I match you with.... Echo

It's no secret that Echo loves hand made things wither it be clothing, art or writing. He loves everything you make for him.

Your eyes fascinate him, he knows some clones who have Hetrochromia but it's a very rare thing. And your seems even rarer to him. It's like the Ocean meeting sand cliffs to him.

Your smile makes him feel like a Shiny Reg again. Something he hasn't felt in a long time.

Let's face it your still smallcompared to him. Your small compared to all of the Batch.

Please play him songs it helps him feel calm and light the galaxy isn't out to get him or his brothers.

He loves that you listen to his ideas without sassing him like Tech does.

He knows what it's like to be insecure of looks. He hates how he looks now and doesn't know how he ended up with someone as gorgeous as you.

Sometimes he doesn't feel enough with now being more machine then human.

Echo can easily pick you up and spin you around when he is excited or just relieved to see you.

"Hello cyar'ika" Echo says lightly as his arms wrap around your waist light resting his chin on your shoudler as he stares back at you though the reflection of the mirror.

He places a soft kiss on the side of your neck as his eyes flick back to yours. "Cyare, what are you thinking about.?" He ask lightly slowly turning you to look at him.

"Echo... am.. am I good enough?" You whisper only for his eyes to go wide as he lifts your chin up so that your now looking him in the eyes. "Princess, of course why wouldn't you be?" He says.

"My looks and weight. I.. I don't feel good enough for you" you say only for him to wrap his arms around you pulling you closer.

"cyar'ika, you are everything I could ever dream of and I should be the one not depeing good enough for you. Hells I'm more then half machine now yet you still look at me as if I was that young shiny troop being assigned to the 501st" he says bringing you in for a soft kiss.

"You make me feel alive again. And I'll spend every day I have proving to you that you deserve more then I can ever give you sweetheart. And I love you more then I can ever express" he whispers agaisnt your lips.

"You give me a reason to keep going kar'taylir darasuum" he says making you tremble and cling to him. He closes his eyes holding you close in the confines of the small shower room.

"You are my beloved and I will never, never stop trying to prove that" Echo states and he presses a kiss to your forehead.

[clonemando]

Here’s a prompt: Jango survives to see Boba become a rebellious teenager. But whats does /rebellious/ mean when your dad’s a bounty hunter? That’s up to you.

This is the best prompt, thank you so much! Boba takes after his Ba’buir and Jaster is laughing at his son from the Manda. Also hinted Boba/Paz but he could be joking just to mess with Jango. The interpretation is up to to the reader. 

It started off with little things. Boba was growing up, he wanted independence and respect. Jango remembered feeling the same way at his age especially under Jaster’s shadow. He had been eager to prove his place in the Haat and show his skill to his people. He had been next in line to be Mand’alor after all. Jaster had been training him for the role since he had found him. Jango remembered sneaking out with Myles to graffiti “Tor Sucks” on buildings and slouching in his chair during meetings when Jaster had always insisted he sit straight and pay attention. He had been a menace so he should have known his son, especially since he was perfectly identical in every way, would be the same. 

Except he really wasn’t. “Boba, look I respect you are old enough to start making your own choices...” 

“Great! I’m glad you see this my way buir!”

“Well... no. That’s not-”

“Buir... You aren’t trying to get me to change my mind again are you?”

“Boba! Come on! This is clearly just you messing with me!” He huffed desperately. Boba was in comfortable blue robes with glasses perched on his nose where he was sprawled comfortably on his bunk with books all around him. 

“It’s not. After that whole thing where Fox tripped Palpatine down the stairs and he died and the clone wars ended there was that huge legal battle about the clones and their rights, I realized how important the legal side of war is. I can do so much good this way buir! I don’t even need a blaster.” He said and Jango pouted. 

“You were going to be the best beroya in the galaxy. You always said you wanted to.” He murmured a little sadly as he sat on the edge of his son’s bed. 

“I was six and you were the coolest person in the universe to me.” Boba pointed out before wincing at his own words before Jango could even say anything and scooting over to press himself to Jango’s side. 

“You still are the coolest. Though your hair might be more silver than your armor soon.” He teased playfully before sighing and rubbing his nose under his glasses. 

“You really want to be a senator of all things? A diplomat? and a Pacifist?” Jango nearly gagged the last part. It felt so wrong.  

“I told you, I’m not a pacifist. I’m not Satine! I don’t go using words I don’t understand. I am willing to kill to defend myself but I’m making a statement to the people still supporting her that they can choose not to fight while refusing to let her bully them into becoming her perfect little dolls. Every single choice I make will send a message. Satine can’t even stop me because I have documented proof she deleted our records from Mandalore to hide our claim to the throne. Since you won’t claim your title of Mand’alor, I am. And I’m using my power to give my brothers a home. Plus, until I am fully instated and have the power to make changes to the disgusting laws she put in place, I must follow the laws already in place. That means no guns.” He said and Jango groaned. 

“You’re seventeen, shouldn’t you be out secretly dating cute people behind my back and coming home after dark or something instead of becoming mand’alor to spite me?” He said and Boba grinned. 

“Who said I don’t have a secret boyfriend I’m kissing behind your back?” He said innocently and Jango’s eyes widened. 

“Do you?” He asked. “Wait, shit, do you have a boyfriend? Can I meet them? I need to polish my armor and clean my blasters. Well, the blasters can wait until they’re here so they can see them and get the message...” He said looking far too excited about getting to threaten his son’s partner. 

“I’m not telling you because then they won’t be a secret boyfriend now would they?” He said eyes sparkling behind his glasses as he moved to return to his books. 

“Boba! Boba come on! Please? Son...” He whined and Boba laughed at seeing his dad acting like he was the teen. 

“His name is Paz.” He hummed and Jango gasped in horror even while being delighted his son was doing ‘normal’ rebellious teen things.

“VIZSLA’S SON?” He screeched. Yeah, his son was just as much of a little shit as he had been. 

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Humans are Space Orcs, “Host.”

here is a fun little story for today, I hope you all like it. I had a lot of fun writing, so I hope you have fun reading.  This was adapted from a viewer suggestion, so I hope it is what you were looking for. 

They were out mapping the milky way. It was probably going to take the next thousand years to put any sort of dent in discovery for their own galaxy, but the GA already had a handle on andromeda, so Admiral Vir felt it was his duty to get a head start on the milky way. 

Leaving a few of his other ships to get a start on the Orion arm of the milky way, he determined to start with Perseus staring from the outside and working in. Using advanced GA technology, they took multiple scans of the proceeding star field, marking planetary systems where earth-sized rocky planets are located in the Goldilocks zone. 

He wouldn't have told this to anyone else, but he may or may not have manually marked locations that he wanted to visit because they looked cool. You know like planets whose carbon content suggested that it might rain diamonds, or an icey eyeball planet tidally locked with its star creating a circle of water where ice dominated everything else.

Unfortunately, no exotic lifeforms, but that was alright he supposed, no big deal. 

He had seen enough aliens to technically last a lifetime, and while he would never argue with more, he definitely could not complain.

So he happily directed them from one strange new world to the next, hoping beyond hope that they would find something interesting and strange to explore or study, well more explore and less study considering he wasn’t exactly the ‘science’ type’. 

He was looking for something that the scientists would yell at him for if he tried t touch.

He sighed at the thought, good times.

“Airlock 2 deck 7 engaged.”

He reached up to the side of his helmet and pressed inward, “Copy.” before dropping his hand back onto his lap where he sat atop the space cycle.

His feet flexed lightly against the cycle pedals as the door opened, kept in place by the pull of strong magnets against his boots.

A line of several other space cycles followed him outside, three or four of them curving around the side of the ship to take a look at an impact site along her upper starboard side.

There had been a collision alarm of course, but none of the systems seemed to be damaged, so this check was nothing more than a precaution.

While they were working on the ship, Admiral Vir had grabbed a group of other scientist to go with him in order to explore a large spiky ball of ice they had discovered floating about in the middle of space. It was a rather large ball of ice, maybe the size of a small moon, though it’s gravity was hardly strong enough to interfere with the cycles.

People back at the UNSC argued that position as Rear Admiral meant having a desk job, but he was determined not to be benched, besides, it was his ship and he could do what he wanted within reason. Furthermore, no one else on his improvised ‘jedi council seemed to mind what he did as long as he ran it by them first.

No one wanted to take planetary exploration away from him, and he was just fine not to point it out.

All around them the vastness of space was dark accept for the distant winking of lights plastered against the firmament. If he looked up, he saw stars, and if he looked down, he saw stars.

No matter how many times he flew in space that sensation never went away, and he found himself shaking of a sudden sense of vertigo as he maneuvered his cycle towards the edge of the glassy ice surface. A group of scientists clustered together, taking samples of the ice and speaking excitedly to one another as he floated forward into an icy tunnel opening.

Let them geek out about dirt and ice, he was going to go exploring.

Using a mapping system on his suit, he allowed the object to track where he was and how far he had gone as he floated some ways into the darkness.

The single beam of his forward headlight rolled over the walls and floor, casting a dim illumination back at him as he rode inward. It seemed to him, strangely that the ice glowed green and blue as he passed.

For a moment he imagined that he could  hear the creaking of the ice and the echo of his engines in the darkness, but knew that fantasy wasn’t the case considering there was no room for noise in a vacuum

Everything outside would be completely silent.

He angled his cycle up as he came into a large cavern and picked one of the outgoing tunnels to explore. The beam of his light rolled and slithered over exposed ice giving him an eerie feeling, like walking into an ancient cathedral or long abandoned cave.

He was just raising into the next tunnel when there was a sudden violent jerking motion to one side, and the magnets that held his boots to the cycle disengaged. He found himself flipping end over end, and then the lights went out.

***

He sat politely in the alien ship hands folded neatly in his lap. 

He glanced down at his watch, and then looked back up at the surrounding scene. He was in a large cavernous room, whose walls seemed to be more organic than they were metallic. Great pillars of dense purple ferry material rose into the air giving the alien ship it’s chape.

Admiral Vir checked his watch again. He had about an hour until someone noticed that he was missing.

That was fine.

Just stay calm.

All of this was honestly par for the course with him, and it wouldn’t due to be rude to his hosts.

There was a slight echoing off to his right, and he turned to watch as a group of those strange creatures floated in. He wasn’t entirely sure how they floated, as there was no inflatable sack that he could see, like the Vrul. In fact he would have described them almost like large tadpoles. They were blue/black/purple in color with a large, round bulbous head and a single great orange/yellow eye in the middle. This upper half allowed the creature to float, and below it, a short, stumpy tadpole-like tail wiggled and waved in the air to propel them forward.

If they had been any smaller he might have considered them cute, but at almost five feet tall, and floating two feet off the ground, they were a strange and unnerving site.

Little trains of bioluminescent dots in green and orange ran up their sides, giving them a strange, almost electronic quality, though they were clearly organic as well.

The group of them floated over, gathering around him like an excited group of children.

He waved.

“Hello, um, just thought I should let you know. I am totally cool with this, and all, but I am due back on my ship in an hour, so…”

The group of them moved closer, one of them gently grabbed him by the hand and hauled him to his feet using its tail as a prehensile arm.

He took to his feet and followed after them

They seemed polite enough, so why not. It was no skin off his nose.

Unless they did, in fact, want the skin off his nose in which case, he was going to have to protest just a little bit.

He walked with them into the next room where they let him go before beginning to prod at the outside of his suit.

He held up a hand, “Hold on, just give me a second.”

He glanced down at his atmospheric reading, to find that, while oxygen content was higher than normal, it was still breathable.

“You’ll want me to take off my suit first. You know, make it to the squishy center.”

He reached up, popping off his helmet with a hiss and gently setting it down on the floor. He was hit with a sudden wave of smell, that reminded him of burnt rubber and…. Roses?

The group of creatures pulled back slightly as if they were surprised.

He went about removing the rest of his suit before he was left standing in astronaut footie pajamas, his hood pulled back from his hair.

“Better?”

The group of them clustered in a bit further.

One of them lifted its tail to prod at him, but paused, its great orange red eye seeming to turn, looking at him.

Wawas it hesitating?

How very polite..

He waved a hand, “Go on, I don’t mind. This isn’t my first rodeo you know.”

The creature tentatively reached forward to prod at his hand.

He raised it to give the creature a better look articulating his fingers and wrists so the creature could see his full range of motion, “See, the fingers move because of the tendons right here, and those tendons are connected down here on my forearm.”

He knew they didn’t understand him, but it was sort of a coping mechanism to keep him relaxed.

This was sort of a routine for him, and it wouldn't due to go freaking out in front of his new friends.

He let them feel his hands flexing his fingers so they could get a good look at the tendons.

Another one of the creatures approached him, this time holding some strange device in its tail.

He sat down hand still held up for the others to examine.

The thing with the strange device floated over, setting the thing down to the side to prod at his hair.

He shivered as its muscular tail rolled over his scalp, like a snake slithering through his hair.

“Here friend, if you want to do some tests.’ he reached up, and yanked out a couple strands of hair, holding them up to the light so the alien creatures could see. 

They floated backward and then the one rooting around in his hair reached over for its device, using it to collect the hairs he offered to them.

He patted one of the creatures on its side, “Very polite you all are.”

He held out his arm, rolling up his sleeve, “here you go, some skin scrapings or a blood sample or something. I can't exactly tell you how to find it, but I’ll let you have it.”

They glanced between each other, and one of them gently took his hand while another ran something along his arm. He could feel metal scraping over his skin, and when the creature withdrew, it left a raised red line in its wake.

It pulled back a little glancing at him in what seemed to be concern.

He waved a hand, “No harm done, it will go away in a few minutes. Look”

He dragged his fingernail down the other side of his arm to show them that they hadn’t hurt him, and that seemed to relax them as they continued on with their examination.

He remained politely seated as they did their testing running their tendrils over his back while one or two of them played with the rotation of his ankle,

“So you see that’s how we started dating, and I know, I know some people think it’s weird, but the more and more it goes on, the more it just seems…. right , you know.” he raised his arm rotating his shoulder so they could get a good look at the articulation, “The problem now is telling my family. I mean, I think they totally suspect you see, but I don’t know how well they will take it when I ACTUALLY confirm their suspicions. Like I mean I think my brothers will be cool about it, especially Thomas and Daviid, but I don’t know about my parents.” One of the aliens approached with a strange strip, holding it up to about face level, gently prodding at his cheek.

“Oh is this the saliva swab part? here , let me get that.” He reached up and took the strip from the alien passing it into his mouth to allow it to soak up some saliva before handing it back. The creatures seemed pleased and floated away.

“All in all though, I think life has really been going well for me so far. I mean I haven't been kidnapped in a while.” He paused, “Well aside from today, and I’m pretty sure I am in a very good place mentally.”

They approached again with another machine, this time holding a cold, round metal piece up to his throat as he talked. 

It almost seemed as if they were listening.

He took a few deep breaths for them, before beginning again, “Plus I have an entire Armada of ships, did I mention that. Well, technically they aren't MINE per se, but I definitely consider them to be mine. The GA even gives me command of their fleet when in times of war, so pretty awesome I think. Not that I have ever gotten to command them all at once, and i sort of don’t want to.”

He reached up and took gentle hold of their device as they tried to pull away, “No, you are going to want to hear this.”

He unzipped the front of his astronaut suit pulling his arms out and letting the upper half dangle around his waist as he pressed the cold little circle to his chest just above the heart.

They took turns listening, seeming very interested.

He then held the thing up to the side of his neck again, so they could hear the same sound in another part of his body.

The link seemed to excite them, “Yeah, gotta carry oxygen to my dumbass brain somehow.” He said leaning back and moving the device to over his stomach, “Get a load of this.”

He smirked a bit as his stomach made a prolonged grumbling noise, and the group of aliens looked around at each other in some concern. He sat up and patted his stomach, threading his arms back through the sleeves and zipping himself back into the suit, “Yeah, people think it’s weird too, don’t worry.”

They wandered off after a second, and returned with a large floating machine in the shape of a circle.

The implant on his left wrist went off, and he looked down to see that it was detecting x-ray pulses. Not enough to be an issue, but enough to be detectable.

“Oh x-ray for my skeleton and insides or whatever.” He stood and held his arms out to his sides for them palms facing forward like all humans stood in medical textbooks, “Light me up.”

There was a pulse of x-ray energy that spiked in his implant for a moment before receding.

They wriggled excitedly pointing out something to each other.

He wandered around to see what they were looking at and found that he was right. His skeleton stood there in full glory, though his leg and metal eye were causing some distortion.

“Hmm gotta get you a better picture, hold on.”

He wandered over to the bench, and undid to the footie part of his right leg pulling it up to mid thigh before detaching the prosthetic.

That shocked them a big 

He had to hold up a hand to calm them down as he set it off to the side.

“Hold on, its alright, I have a real one right here.” he undid the pant leg of his left foot so they could see properly, and they moved forward in fascination, one of them prodding at his prosthetic.

He then flipped up his eyepatch before turning away, “You aren’t going to want to watch this.”

WIth a quick movement, he popped out the prosthetic eye and covered the socket with his eyepatch turning around and holding up the eye to show them, “here you go, kind of crazy isnt it.”

The one that had been prodding at his leg moved over to take a look at the eye, seeming greatly fascinated.

He motioned the x-ray guys over, setting his eye down and hopping up to one foot motioning them to try it again. Hesitantly they seemed to understand and took another snapshot. This time the image was much better, and they seemed very pleased as he returned, popping his eye back in and socketing the leg back on.

“Not to shabby huh?”

They did a few more noninvasive scans as he continued to make smalltalk, occasionally patting the strange alien on its side. Eventually they began to mimic the movement, patting him on the head or on the shoulder when he was doing something they wanted. He enjoyed having the encouragement.

At one point he was sitting in the middle of a group of about ten of them as they simultaneously prodded, articulated and examined different body parts. The same one from earlier was still playing with his prosthetic, which was sort of adorable to watch.

At one point, his implants began to buzz, and he held up a finger to his new friends, “Hold on, I have to take this.” He reached up, pressing the side of his neck to answer the call.”

“Admiral Vir speaking.”

“Admiral, thank goodness, where are you. We found your cycle but, not you…. ar e you alright!” It was simon speaking 

He lifted up his foot so one of the creatures could bend his knee, “Oh yeah, I’m perfectly fine, but making new friends.”

Simon seemed annoyed, “Admiral, you can’t just go missing like that. It is very irresponsible, and overly juvenile.”

He stood and twisted around so they could get a better look at the flexibility of his spine, “Well, Actually Simon, I was given an invitation I could not refuse.”

“Admiral this isnt funny.”

He sighed, “Simon, I'm not kidding. I am on an alien ship being propped right now as we speak. I repeat this is not a joke.”

The angry growl from the other end of th line told him that she did not believe him.

“Hold on, let me send you a pic.”

He held out his hand before him, rotating the camera around so it faced him, “Everybody say Admiral Vir isn’t a lying bastard!”

There was a minute flash, and then he sent the file.

There was silence on the other end of the line before, “No Fucking way.”

“Yes, anyway, just give me a few minutes and I will be right out.”

He cut off the channel and stood patting the creatures on the arms as he walked over and began pulling his suit back on, starting with the boots and working up. They watched for a few minutes until one of them wandered over and began handing him pieces.

He smiled, “So polite. Anyway, I have to go.”

He secured the chest piece and held the helmet under his arm, “Which was is out?”

One of them grabbed him by the hand and gently lead him out of the room and back the way they had come.

Once they reached, what he assumed to be the docking bay, one of them reached down, grabbed his helmet and gently slid it over his head, locking it into place. Then it patted him on the helmet. He returned the gesture

“SO nice, now, there is something I should give to you.” he reached into an router containment pouch on his suit, and withdrew a data stick  gently passing it to the next alien over ,’On there you will find the coordinates of one of the GA offices and a communications line to talk with them. I would suggest making contact. The GA would love to have you aboard, and I would be more than pleased to see you again.”

The Alien wrapped its tail around the stick and blinked long and slow at him. He patted it one more time before motioning to the door.

The group of aliens slowly filtered from the room, and there was a sharp hiss as the airlock opened, and everything went silent.

Jauntily, he leaped from the opening, turning on his head lamp as he went sailing a good hundred yars into the dark until the minute gravity pulled him down to the icy surface.

He hoped his way through the tunnels until he caught another signal.

“Omen, this is Admiral Vir, sending my location now.”

He didnt have to wait long until a rushed group of concerned marines descended on him, dragging him onto the back of a cycle before flying him out and back towards the omen

Returned nice and cozy in the ship, he pulled off his helmet and looked over at Ramirez, “What do you think, Cyclopes or Mikes.”

Ramirez tilted his head, “Mikes?”

“Yeah Like that little one eyed monster Mike Wizowski from Monsters Inc, you know since these guys only have one eye.”

Ramirez stared at him blankly and he nodded to himself, “Mikes it is then.”

Ramirez just shook his head and sighed, “You seem relatively calm for a guy who just got kidnapped for like the twentieth time.”

“I wouldn't say kidnapped actually, more like cordially invited. Kidnapping implies they weren't going to let me go. Actually very good hosts, and hopefully, if we are lucky one day they will join the GA 

Ramirez just sighed and shook his head again, “Nothing surprises me anymore.”

“Oh I'm sure you’ll be eating those words next week.

He thought about it for a moment and then shrugged with grudging acknowledgement. “You're probably right.” 

[crispyjenkins]

I dare you to write an Ani5 fix-it fic. I will not be taking criticism and will die on the hill that this is the most powerful ship and could’ve saved the entire clone wars. Bonus points if it features the ship Mace Windu/headaches (bc anakin is a walking mess of shatterpoints and lives to annoy Mace). Codywan to help knock some sense into anakin would also be top tier. I LOVE YOU ZEPH’BUIR

(of course i can’t do a whole fix-it in a quick prompt answer, but i think i’ve set it up for a far happier ending than in canon! support communication and education in relationships (ღ˘⌣˘ღ) and also adhd clones.

fives might be the most i’ve ever struggled with a character (‘cept maybe ahsoka....) so it took a little while to figure out how to write this scene in a way i liked. also, had to go and watch fives clips to try and get my autism brain working, and BOY HOWDY do i actually hate dbb’s take on the clones, especially the accent but everything else too. their character designs make me want to cry. so i’m begging, for me, to imagine this fives like this especially because then we get Tol Anakin and a Smol Clone BF and i think that is a seriously underutilised dynamic.

thank you for the prompt, ad, and for cursing me with this ship in the first place. someday i’ll get around to actually writing them as the battle husbands they are 🧡)

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  Echo's always been good with programming, but Fives is better with the actual building. He's not any good with inventing, maybe, but putting things together? Opening them up and knowing immediately what's wrong? Fives would even say he enjoys it — and being able to talk shop with Skywalker like they're nobody mechanics from the Outer Rim instead of General and Soldier makes the long hyperjumps between missions actually bearable. 

  How that led to him sitting in a rarely used hallway on the Resolute with Skywalker ("Anakin," he keeps insisting with a smile), both leant over a mouse droid in pieces on a drop cloth, Fives isn't really sure. It probably had something to do with Skywalker's excited bounce when he'd come to ask if Fives wanted to help him, the sparkle in his eye reminding Fives just how young the both of them are. How, technically, he's older than Anakin.

  Because, yeah, he is Anakin, not Skywalker, when they're like this. With his growing knight cut a curly untamed cloud around his ears, grease smeared on the underside of his jaw, with Fives stripped down to his blacks from the waist up, with even his blasters set on the floor next to them. 

  With it quickly becoming clear that Anakin doesn't actually need help to rewire the mouse droid, but had asked for Fives to join him anyways.

  They've been at it for a few hours now, their jokes winding down to companionable quiet as they both work on separate parts of the droid. It honestly might have been easier to start from a scrap droid than try to rewire this one correctly, but it's easy work Fives could do blindfolded, and sharing the mutually-focused silence is actually quite nice.

  Anakin is elbow-deep in the outer casing when he finally asks, "Do the clones feel love?"

  And Fives almost gets up and walks away. He knows not every battalion ended up with a good Jedi, that the 212th and the 501st had been so kriffing lucky to end up with "The Team", but sometimes he forgets. Maybe that's the worst part of it: slow, personal moments like this, Fives forgets he's not natborn and bearer of a face shared with millions. Being around his general makes him forget, and maybe he had taken that for granted until now.

  Or maybe it's for that reason that he hesitates from storming off, because Anakin had been the one to name Alpha, to insist on giving them proper leave, to defend them from anyone who talks down at them even if they're a planetary leader. And Rex had said something, once, about Anakin’s brain working in either/ors, being hardwired in some way to only see in black and white and believing that if you're one thing, you can't be another. That what Anakin says isn't always what he means.

  So instead, he asks, "What kind of love are we talkin'?"

  Anakin refuses to raise his head, and Fives can almost see him stressing about how to phrase this.  "Y'know, grand romance and stuff. One-and-onlys and holodrama romcom propaganda and imagining growing old together."

  "'Not quite sure what you're asking, sir." He takes a deep breath. "The short answer is yes, we can and do feel that, but the long answer is I can't speak for every brother, and I would not want to. Some of us don't feel that." Shrugging, he passes Anakin a socket wrench before he can ask for it. "But it's not because we can't, not because of the longnecks. We're bred to be obedient, sir, not emotionless."

  Quiet settles over them again while Anakin processes this, his mouth twisted rather horribly. Fives starts to think he would do a whole awful lot to turn that frown back into a haughty smile. 

  "What do you really want to ask, General?"

  "I'm married to Senator Amidala."

  Now, everyone with eyes knows that. Maybe Torrent knows even better, when they've been covering for their general for over a year now, and clearly the Jedi just aren't doing anything about it — but Fives also knows Anakin has never actually told anyone about this, not even General Kenobi. Rex says Anakin still thinks they've been discreet.

  "If I may be blunt, sir, this is not news."

  And Anakin actually laughs at that, shaking his head as he tosses down his tools to stare at the opposite wall instead. Fives watches his gaze go distant, somewhere far away from the Resolute lost in the middle of space. “I’ve loved her since I was nine years old, Fives. I loved her through not seeing her for a decade, through her assassination attempts and the First Battle of Geonosis and becoming a knight, and I...”

  Fives sighs once. “No one said you had to stay in love, sir.”

  “But that’s just it,” he groans. “I’ve never known how to do anything else, how to be anything else. I don’t... know who I am without it.”

  He has to look away from Anakin, then, because he’s seen brothers go stupid for people they meet on campaigns, or for their Jedi, and Fives isn’t nearly as young as some of the shinies out there, but he knows what it looks like, when they leap in without thinking. He lets out a long, slow breath, his eyes falling on the ‘saber at Anakin’s hip. “Permission to speak freely, sir?”

  Anakin blinks at him, and nods.

  “That’s too young to decide what you want to do for the rest of your life.” Fives raises a brow at his general’s startled expression, which is maybe more amusing (endearing) than it has any business being. “General, you’re barely an adult, just the same as the vode. If my mental timeline is right, you weren’t even twenty standard when you married Amidala, which, frankly, was reckless and unfair on her part.”

  “Padmé would never–”

  “I don’t mean intentionally, sir. The fact of the matter is, no wonder you don’t know who you are without her, because you’ve always had her.” That decade of no contact notwithstanding, considering Anakin didn’t not have her, either. “Senator Amidala knew who and what she was before you, and she’ll know who and what she is without you.”

  “That’s not quite fair,” Anakin grumbles, but his throat is flushed in what Fives hopes is entirely appropriate guilt, or at the very least embarrassment. “It was my idea to get married after Geonosis.”

  Fives snorts. “The idea of a child thrown into war, afraid to lose anything.”

  “You’re being uncharacteristically candid, Fives.”

  “Respectfully, sir, the last thing you need is to be coddled.” His general laughs again, this time good and bright in a way he hasn’t heard before; and then Fives can’t help what he admits next. “We weren’t allowed toys, or anything.”

  Laughter cutting off abruptly, Anakin’s eyes grow haunted instead. There might not be anyone else in the galaxy with quite the same experience as the clones, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t those that understand.

  “Hevy made me and Echo– Well, he said they were mythosaurs like Kal taught us about, but they looked more like sad loth cats. He cut up his own bedsheet to make ‘em, and couldn’t tell the longnecks what he’d done with it, so he just slept on the bare mattress.”

  “Fives...”

  But it’s clear Anakin doesn’t actually know what to say, so Fives pushes on. “Some of Fett’s instructors tried to teach us Mando’a, you know? I think Spar is the only brother that ever got fluent, the rest of us have been making up words and combining them with Basic and Kaminoan and whatever else the Cuy’val Dar spoke that sometimes we don’t even remember what language they are anymore.”

  “I didn’t learn Basic until I was five.” Anakin thunks his head onto the wall behind him with a sigh, the mouse droid forgotten at his feet. “Other padawans always told me I was lucky Master Obi-Wan knew Huttese.” Ahh, kark, his general had been a Hutt salve; at least the spice runners made sure their slaves could communicate with their customers. “I couldn’t read a word of Aurebesh when I first came to the Temple, though to be fair, I couldn’t read anything else, either.”

  “You grow up around other kids?”

  “Yeah, my mom and I lived in the biggest slave slum on Tatooine.”

  Fives doesn’t need to tell him how lucky he was just to have had their own quarters. “I think, sir, that the vode know better than you think, what it’s like always standing on the edge of losing everything.”

  Squeezing his eyes closed, Anakin inhales sharply and clenches his fists over his knees. “What happened? To your mythosaur toys?”

  “One of the longnecks found them while we were in training, ‘threw them out before we got back. I think Hevy was even more upset than we were.”

  The leather glove over his prosthesis creaks as he tightens his grip on his own palms. “Was it easy? To just... forget about them?”

  “Of course not,” Fives snorts and crosses his arms, “we were the equivalent of eight standard at the time, but we honestly didn’t have a choice. As we got a little older, we stopped trying to put meaning in things, because we weren’t allowed things. Our names are our only real possession, even our armor can be taken from us, but we will not, cannot, let anyone take our names.”

  Groaning, Anakin scrubs his hands over his face before pushing himself up to finally look at Fives properly. He still doesn’t speak for a moment, just watching him, then teases flatly, “You’ve been spending too much time with Cody and Obi-Wan, you’re starting to speak in riddles.”

  “They are riddles only to you, sir.” He offers a small smile, and is only slightly disappointed when Anakin doesn’t return it.

  Instead, he lets out a winded breath. “So. You’re saying that it’s not easy to let go of even small things, but we must. And then there are things that we shouldn’t let go of?”

  “Some things aren’t ours to keep.”

  Anakin swallows. “Like Padmé,”

  “Like any person, no matter what sort of love we have for them.”

  Groaning, Anakin pulls his knees back up close and drops his face into his arms. “But I still love her.”

  Knowing that this is not a new problem, that General Kenobi has been trying to teach his general this for as long as they’ve known each other, Fives takes a moment to consider. “You don’t really have to stop loving her.”

  “But you said–”

  “You think I stop loving my brothers when they die?”

  Whether or not it’s healthy to hold onto affections for someone after a romantic relationship is a conversation for another time, Fives decides, and leans over to pick up where Anakin had left off with the droid.

  “General, it sounds to me like you already know all this,” he says, twisting a wire into the grip of his glove to yank it from the motor. “And  that you’re digging your feet in — which is the crux of the problem, isn’t it?”

  “You sound like Obi-Wan,” he groans, but doesn’t deny it.

  “Hmm, well, at least we’re still just kids.”

  Anakin very slowly looks up from his arms, just enough for Fives to see his wide eyes. “What do you...?”

  “Well, we’ve still got time to learn, don’t we?” Fives raises his eyebrow as he fits the new wire into the motor and starts to close all the panels back up. “I still think about Hevy and Droidbait and Cutup, and honestly, I still think about Echo’s and my mythosaurs. That’s not a bad thing, I don’t think, not even the Jedi would think that’s bad. I’m still angry when my vode don’t get funerals and I honestly hold that against the Chancellor and the Jedi both. But I don’t get to go back to Kamino and take my anger out on the longneck that took our toys, and I’m... working on it, not being so angry with the generals. I’m still angry. But I know the Jedi have about as much say in all of this as we do, and I know burying my brothers won’t bring them back. So I’m working on it.”

  “I... don’t have to be good at it all at once.”

  “Great Maker, General, just because you’re the Chosen One doesn’t mean you have to actually be good at absolutely everything from the start. You just have to try, and you still have time to.”

  He looks up and finds Anakin already smiling back. “Fives, I could kiss you.”

  “Considering it sounds like Senator Amidala just divorced you, I think that’s a very bad idea, sir.”

  “Bah, you’re no fun.”

  Fives feigns offense, “This mouse droid we’ve rigged to follow Captain Rex around and scream says differently.”

-

  The night the 501st returns to the Resolute after finally (kriffing finally) leaving Umbara, Fives finds a hand-sewn stuffed mythosaur on his bunk, with a string collar and a dogtag etched with CT-782.

-

Mando’a: Cuy’val Dar — “Those who no longer exist”, group of 75 Mando’ade and 25 others put together by Jango to train the clones vod/e —  “brother/s, comrade/s, sibling/s”, technically gender neutral but used most often in fandom as “brother/s” (*in this context, fives is using brothers as gender neutral as well, because you won’t take trans and nb clones even from my cold dead hands*)

[chokemeanakin]

First Kiss - Anakin Skywalker x gn Reader

Summary: Anakin treats you to your first kiss ;)

masterlist

Read it on ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22469749

It happened on Tatooine. Anakin didn’t want to come back, but you had begged him to show you where he grew up.

“I grew up with Obi-Wan, travelling the galaxy,” Anakin corrected, a scowl clouding his face. “Not on Tatooine. I was just a slave there.”

“But it’s got your history,” you argued. “It’s where Qui-Gon found you. It’s where you build C-3PO. It’s where your--”

“It’s where my mother died,” he bit, jaw tense and eyes shadowed. “I know.”

“Maybe we could visit her.”

Anakin closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. He did that a lot, ever since he came back from the dark side, to calm the anger inside of him. His hands clenched over the controls of the pod, then suddenly relaxed. When he opened his eyes, he was considerably less tense.

“Okay,” he agreed. “I think she’d like that.”

*********************

“I hate sand,” Anakin muttered as he hopped down from the ship. His boots landed on the ground, sending dust to cloud up around him. He swatted it away from his face.

“Oh, quit pouting,” you take his flesh hand, then raise it over your head with both of yours. “You’re home!”

“This is not my home,” he tried to sound angry, but his face softened when he looked at the smile on your face. He could see you were excited-- for what, he still didn’t understand. You would have to stay in the remote parts of the planet because Anakin would never be welcomed back after what he did to the sand people. You wouldn’t even be able to see the market or Jabba the Hut’s pub, or the place he used to live. Not that Anakin ever wanted to go back to any of those places, anyways. They came for one reason-- to see his mother.

Anakin led the way to the grave. It was just a plank of wood sticking up from the sand, so you weren’t sure how he even knew this was hers. But it was the only thing out here for hundreds of miles, and the somber look on his face was proof enough. This was his mother.

You sat on the sand in front of the wooden plank, drawing shapes in the course minerals. You didn’t say anything, and neither did Anakin as he sat down beside you. The silence was comforting, and just being there was enough. Anakin closed his eyes and his face was peaceful.

You watched him, his face unmoving, as you thought about Anakin and his past. This was where his life began, as a slave, working in a junk shop while his mother struggled to get by. He built his own pod and would race because he was good at it. He built his mother a robot so she wouldn’t have to work so hard. He could still speak the language, as sometimes he would mutter what you were pretty sure were swears under his breath in the foreign tongue.

This was where the sweet, unsuspecting, hopeful little kid who loved flying and wanted to be a Jedi grew up with his mother. He had left her to do just that, and that was the beginning of the end. He never got to see his mother again before she died in his arms. The Jedi Council consistently underestimated his power and belittled him. They alienated him from the one thing he was destined to be. No wonder he turned to Darth Sidious, who was the only person who seemed to trust him in those harrowing times. He had fallen, like Icarus from the sun, like an angel from heaven, and fell and crashed and burned.

But now he was back. He was here again, that same sweet, hopeful boy who just wanted to be a Jedi. And he was sitting before you, with his mother-- a family again.

You were there for hours, until the suns began to lower in the sky. A gust of wind blew sand in your direction, and Anakin cracked an eye open.

“We should get to higher ground,” he said, standing and holding his mechanical arm out for you to take. He helped lift you up, and then brought you in close so he could share his cloak with you, shielding you from the sand. “The wind should let up as the suns go down. For now, we can watch them set from the pod.”

The two of you climbed on top of the ship and sat with your legs dangling off the edge, watching the double-suns inch toward the horizon. The sky seemed to bleed when the lower sun crashed into the sandy mountains, but then melted into a melon-orange glow as the higher sun followed in its wake. Soon, the whipping sand clouds calmed and the sky turned to a deep purple, then black, dotted with thousands of stars. You wondered how many times Anakin had watched this sunset as a kid, and if it’s changed at all since then.

“You’ve come a long way,” you told him, breaking the silence. He lowered his head and looked at his hands.

“I’ve made a lot of mistakes.”

“But you always come back,” you said. He lifted his head and his eyes connected with yours, but they were far away. He was deep in thought, and there was something warring behind them. Guilt.

“I left you,” he said, and it’s barely above a whisper. “We were friends, but as soon as Padme came along, I left you. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“You were happy with her.”

“I was happy with you, too.”

The confession caused an eruption of warmth to blossom in your chest. You smiled at him, a genuine, delighted smile, and knocked his shoulder playfully with yours.

“You have me now.”

At this, Anakin lifted his arm and wrapped it around your shoulder. He pulled you close for a moment, then relaxed with his arm still around you. For once in your life, you didn’t move away.

Anakin was warm. You basked in the weight of his arm around your shoulders, the feeling of his torso pressed against your side. Your thighs were touching and you realized that this is what you needed, this is what was missing all along, this warmth. Suddenly, you felt complete.

“Why haven’t you ever been with anyone?” Anakin asked suddenly. You tried to fight back the blush from your face at both the question and the fact that his fingers seemed to be absentmindedly tracing patterns on your arm. Suddenly he paused. “Am I making you uncomfortable?”

“No,” you told him, and he resumed the patterns. “I just… have a hard time connecting with people.”

“Because of your mother?”

“Because of my mother,” you confirmed, and he coaxed every bit of information out of you on how your mother was strict and mean and cold and judgmental, and your father watched as she stripped your humanity away. He listened attentively as you told him of the suitors you’ve failed with in the past, and his arm tightened around you.

“I just get nervous,” you frowned, twisting your fingers in your lap. “Like the closer someone gets to me, the more they’re going to realize I actually suck.”

“I don’t think you suck,” Anakin said, his voice that sweet, comforting timbre with a gentle rasp that you loved so much. He always sounded like that when he’s spitting off orders to R2 when piloting, or late at night when he’s half asleep and doesn’t know what he’s saying. He also had that stupidly soft look in his eyes, and that half smile you’ve only ever seen directed at Padme.

God, he’s so pretty, you groaned inwardly, unintentionally tensing up when you realized just how close you were sitting. And he was looking at you so deeply, and man, his eyes can be so intense sometimes-- your face burned and you ducked your head so he couldn’t see.

He caught your chin with his gloved mechanical hand, cradling your chin between his index finger and thumb. He turned your face to look at him straight on, right in the eyes, and all you could see was Anakin. He was so close, and he was getting closer. Your eyes shifted to his lips, the same ones you had fantasized about for years, and hoped he couldn’t notice what you were thinking.

“Have you ever been kissed?” you could feel his breath on your lips, your heart pounding against your ribcage. You blinked madly, breathing erratic, palms sweating. Every single atom in your body was buzzing with energy-- excitement, nervousness, fear. You wanted to pull him in and kiss the living daylights out of him. You wanted to push him away and run as fast as you could until you got to a cliff high enough you could jump off and never wake up. You wanted to explode.

“You’re trembling,” Anakin’s eyes shifted across your figure for a split second. “Do you want me to let go?”

“No,” you begged him, your hands shooting out to hold onto him without your permission. They landed on his thighs, and your face burned harder.

“Do you want this?” his thumb stroke your chin. There was nothing you wanted more.

“Yes.”

You weren’t sure how he even heard you, as you barely uttered the word. But before you could do or say or think anything else, Anakin was leaning in. Your eyes closed on instinct and you felt, very softly, the brush of his lips against yours. The volcano was back in your chest, spurting lava all over your insides as you realized, holy shit Anakin Skywalker’s lips are on mine. Holy shit, Anakin Skywalker is kissing me!

The feather light touch tickled more than anything, and you could feel his mouth twitch into a slight smile as your hands’ grip tightened on his legs.

“This okay?” he pulled back a centimeter to ask. “You want more?”

“Yes,” you said again. It was the only thing you could manage to say, the one syllable word, and you began to wonder just how much of a lost cause you were if a simple brush of his lips against yours could render you brain dead.

He muttered an ‘Okay’ and then brought his flesh hand up to cup your face, fingers sliding along your neck and locking into your hair as his thumb stroked your cheek. You shivered, goosebumps staining every inch of your body with the touch. His gloved hand stayed on your chin, tilting it up toward him for easier access.

You closed your eyes again, and he leaned in, and this time he really, actually kissed you. He applied the slightest bit of pressure, then he did it again, shifting his head and capturing your lips in his, pulling back slowly only to do it again.

You were in heaven.

You forgot to respond at first. All you could think of in your short-circuited brain was how Anakin smelled so good and his lips were so warm and he tasted like the stars. Oh, he definitely knew what he was doing, with the way he was moving his lips and the confidence he did it with. You had no idea what you were doing, so you let instinct take control.

You unclenched one of your fists from his leg and raised it to place on his shoulder, pushing just a bit to get a bit of leverage, get a little bit closer so you could respond in earnest. You opened your mouth and closed it over his lips, your stomach cartwheeling as you hoped you were doing this right. It felt right. It felt good. So you kept doing it, and Anakin’s metal arm dropped from your chin and fell to your waist as you rose onto your knees, hands finally tangling into the soft curls of his hair, kissing him like you’ve wanted to kiss him for years.

When Anakin pulled back for air, you realized just how starved you were for oxygen as well. You didn't even notice. You panted, fingers loosening in his hair, lips tingling and burning. Anakin was looking at you like you were everything he wanted, and his eyes caught the twinkle of the stars. This is right where you belong, you realized, right here in Anakin Skywalker’s giving arms. Your breathing evened out, and you seemed to be thinking the same thing.

You leaned back in.