#and i already did this before but modifying certain lifts that are meant for smaller weights to be more stable to work with my regular ones

[zincbot]

first workout after top surgery had me flying high all day

[ask-powerwoman]

So, Villa how did Dot find out about Ultra Woman? And why did she leave in the first place?

*This story is heavily based on the Mega Man Archie comics.

“Hey, mum?” Dot asks her creator, Doctor Villa “I thought I was your first robot. WVN-00A.”

“That’s right.” Villa responds with a smile

“Then... who’s WVN-000, ‘Lyra’...?” Villa froze, and glances to the screen that her daughter was looking at.

“See?” Dot says pointing to the name, “I was cleaning up the database when I found this. Is it an error?”

Villa sighs. “That... that isn’t an error.” She says, “Lyra was your older sister.”

Dot’s eyes light up. “Really?! Where is she? When do I get to meet her?”

“I’m sorry, Dot. But I’m afraid you’ll never get to meet Lyra.” Villa says sadly “she was my first triumph, and my greatest failure...”

“I... I don’t understand. What happened?” Dot asks.

That’s when Villa began to explain what had happened many years ago. When she was younger, more naive, and just beginning her life’s work. Back when She still counted Doctor Wily as a friend...

~~~

“That’s it Albert! She’s all done!” Villa says with a smile, lifting the goggles up onto the top of her head.

“Mmm..” Wily placed a hand to his chin, examining Villa’s newest creation. “It’s awfully... human-looking, Winter.” He says “Your military contract was for an advanced combat robot. You’ve built a... young lady.”

“And” Villa says “And my robot master line WILL be capable of advanced warfare --as well as a myriad of other advanced mental processes. I’ll get them their weapon, but this prototype, My girl, will stay with me.”

“Hmph. I’d say... you were taking your love of robotics too far, but then I’d be a hypocrite.” Wily says with a softened smile to his friend. “Let’s wake her up.”

“Right. Wake up, dear, Good morning...” the robot girl sat up on the work table, her long blonde ponytail moving over slightly as she rubs her eyes. “...Lyra!”

“...hello?” Lyra says, hesitantly, before finding herself suddenly picked up off the table and into a strong hug.

“Welcome to the world my lovely girl!” Villa says happily “I am your creator, Doctor Villa!” She allows Lyra to sit down once again. “How do you feel? The self diagnostic should’ve kicked in first thing.”

“I feel... fine?” Lyra responds “all systems report nominal.” She looks around

“I... I feel... confused. Overwhelmed. Disoriented. I know we’re in the ‘lab’ and what a ‘lab’ is but... why?”

Villa smiles with excitement “do you hear this, Albert? She’s self aware! Not five minutes online and she’s already thinking metaphysically!”

“Mm-hmm.” Wily replies scribbling notes down on a pad “Don’t mind me... just taking the measurements you’ll need for the weapon upgrades later. You’re welcome, by the way.”

Lyra blinks and looks at her hands “w...weapons?”

“Don’t worry about that now. You’re taking the first steps to bridge the gap between humanity and robotics.” Villa places a hand on Lyra’s shoulder. “You have data, but what you need now, is culture.”

Villa took Lyra out to see the city. The large buildings that seem to tower over everything, She bought Lyra a long purple scarf that she was fascinated by, She took her to the museum to see wondrous pieces of artwork, to the forest area where she got to feed real, organic birds and a deer, and finally to the symphony in the park as the moon finally began to rise.

In retrospect, Villa was too enthusiastic back then. She pushed too much of the world--of her own goals--on Lyra at once. But she seemed to be accepting it all so well...

Unfortunately, this was also when Villa received a great deal of her funding from military research. Without it, she would never have been able to construct Lyra. However, her benefactors wanted something to show for their investments, so...

Villa placed a helmet on Lyra’s head carefully as they prepare for the demonstration.

“Remember your programming. Hit-and-Run, don’t be reckless, pick your targets wisely, don’t forget to use your cover to your advantage...”

“Relax.” Lyra says with a confident smile. “I got this.”

Villa let’s out a heavy sigh as Lyra walks into the field.

“G-good afternoon, gentlemen. Today’s demonstration is of Villa Labs autonomous combat robot, model number WVN-000.” She says to the military representatives. “Today you will see how a robot can be capable of independent thought. Villa Labs hopes to bring the same capabilities to the civilian sector one day. But first, we will demonstrate the versatility my d--er.. this robot can perform in a... in a live fire exercise. Future models will allow for military operations with no... um... risk to human life.”

The demonstration began. Lyra ducked behind one of the walls as the training drones began to rapid fire.

Lyra smirks, charging her buster and dashing out from her cover, taking out several drones before reaching the next piece of wall for cover.

The shots from the drones cracked the wall on the outside, but that didn’t stop Lyra from leaping up and grabbing a hold of the wall, using the top as cover to take out more drones.

But something wasn’t right.

Lyra lands back on the ground, pushing the wall hard enough to topple it over.

Her body sparking all the while.

As exercise 2 was about to start, the sparking grew worse. Lyra felt off. It was dizzying for her.

“Doc... Doctor V-Villa? Something’s...”

Lyra tried to fire at one of the new incoming drones, but it missed.

And the drones swoop down to cut her with the propeller blades

“Lyra? LYRA?!” Villa exclaims with fear and worry “STOP THE TEST!!”

She came running over to her daughter, who now lay weak on the ground.

“Everything was going so well.” One of the military representatives says, “What happened, doctor?”

“There... seems to be an imbalance in her power generator. She’s never been put under this kind of strain...” Villa says, examining the data she was receiving from the damaged prototype.

“You didn’t test it first?”

“Of course I did!” Villa exclaims “but everything about her is unique—experimental. A robot this advanced requires a tremendous amount of power, and when the output is pushed...”

“It certainly shows promise,” says one of the military representatives, “but the power failure is a concern.”

“Yes...” adds another, “A simpler model would require less power, a simpler battle software would still be sufficient.”

“Congratulations, Doctor, you’ve won us over. We’ll clear you for further research funding, get back to us when you’ve got a smaller, simpler model.”

“Y-yes, sirs...” Doctor Villa says as she held Lyra in her arms, “thank you...���

But that wasn’t Villa’s real failure with Lyra.

Later that night, Lyra woke up in the lab, her core plugged into several machines meant to keep it stable

“Ugh... Doctor Villa?” She asks, rubbing her head, but looking around, her creator was nowhere in sight.

But she could hear an argument from another room.

“Absolutely not!”

“Listen to yourself, Winter! You’re way too attached to her. Let me do the modifications.”

“I said ‘no!’”

Lyra pulls the chords out of her core, and slowly gets up and goes to see what was going on.

“Oh, so you’ll trust me to design her arm-cannon, but you won’t trust me to modify her power core?”

“You DESIGNED it, but you didn’t INSTALL it. I did!”

“And you obviously did it wrong, hence the imbalance!”

Lyra stood still, watching her mother fight with her friend.

“You were BANNED from directly working on advanced robotics.”

“Nice of you to reopen THAT wound, Winter.” Wily huffs.

“You brought that upon yourself!” Villa retorts, “But more importantly, Lyra is MY girl, and I’ll handle her redesigns.”

“Doctor Villa...” Lyra starts, gaining the attention of the two Doctors.

“Lyra!” Villa exclaims, “I didn’t know you were already recharged.”

Villa knelt down to her level, placing her hands on her shoulders.

“Are you alright? Do you feel off-balance at all?”

“I’m fine” Lyra replies, “what’s this about redesigning me?”

Doctor Villa sighs, “your power generator is flawed.” She says, pointing to Lyra’s core. “If I don’t fix it, the imbalance will eventually destroy you. I have to redesign your core to save you.”

“And what if you bungle it,” Wily starts, “and erase all her personal programming?”

“I’m sure you’ll retain all your personality traits!” Villa says, in an attempt to reassure her daughter.

“Heh—just as you were sure her generator would work properly?”

“Enough, Albert, you’ll scare her! You’re not helping!”

“I know. You won’t let me.”

“I said ‘Enough!’”

“Fine, fine.”

“Lyra,” Villa says to her daughter, “Go hook yourself up in the lab so your power remains stable. We’ll begin work tomorrow.”

“But...”

“Now, please. This is for your own good.”

“...But” Lyra says quietly, “What about what I want?”

That night... Well, Villa can’t be certain if this was how it played out, But she had run the scenario over and over again in her head...

Lyra hid behind the wall to Villa’s room, listening as her mother talked to herself.

“I just don’t understand. It’s to save her life.” Villa says to herself as she paced back and forth in her room. “I coded the closest thing to a will of her own, but I want her to use it to make good, logical decisions.”

She sighs “..who would be logical facing their own mortality? Oh, Thomas. If you were here, you would know what to do...” Villa says, looking at an old picture of Thomas light, Wily and herself.

“Perhaps if I... it would be a lot easier if I did rewrite that rebellious streak out of her...”

Hearing that, Lyra had enough. Gripping her fist she leaves before she could hear the rest of what Villa had said to herself.

“No, no, no... what am I saying?” Villa says facepalming, “Once she’s repaired I’ll have to make it up to her in some way. And, in the long run, she’ll see it was for the greater good.”

Lyra in the meantime, was sobbing. As she packed a bag full of E-Tanks for a long and lonely trip ahead of her, she glanced at a picture of Villa and herself.

Smiling as if they had a perfect life... what lies had Villa been feeding her?...

In a moment of anger, Lyra smashed the photo on a ground.

The she walked out the door, never to come back.

~~~

“I never heard of or saw her again.” Villa says to Dot. “My pride, My arrogance, My lack of foresight... they robbed me of my first creation... My first daughter.”

“Well, then, we can go look for her!” Dot says with a smile “Me and Bounce can start looking right now!”

Villa chuckles a little. “No, Dot. Lyra’s power generator would’ve gone offline by now. It pains me to say it, but she’s gone.” She says with a sorrowful tone.

“Although there are long nights where I wonder what happened to her after she left...”

*A/N: this was a good excuse to submit a story instead of a comic. Hope you enjoyed this little story!

[azwriting]

... Of More Woe (Forget Me Not, Kylo Ren x Reader) - Chapter Twelve

Hi everyone, here’s chapter twelve.... We are getting close to end and I hope you guys have been enjoying it so far. I only have three more chapters planned out, I don’t think im going to know what to do after that. Anyways please enjoy, feedback is always appreciated. Everyone’s comments always make my day! Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist! Gif is not mine!

Summary: Ben and (Y/N) continue living in their little bubble until it’s popped by certain Resistance members.

Warnings: Language, A bit of NSFW, fluff, angst

Word Count: 7692

Kylo Ren stood attentively in the hanger of his Star Destroyer waiting. He wore his signature thick black robes and watched as the Stormtroopers maneuvered around their Supreme Leader in fear. It was times like these that he missed the security of his mask, he needed to get it fixed promptly. The groups of Stormtroopers began to make a clear path on the landing bay when two transporters and a black command shuttle descended into the Destroyer’s hangar. Kylo’s eyebrows furrowed, it was his command shuttle. He continued to scrutinize the ship as a displeasing voice spoke up behind him. 

“Ah, I see they have finally returned.” General Hux noted coming to stand beside him. Kylo stared at the man questioningly, who was returning in his shuttle? Before he could interrogate the redhead, the ramp door opened on his command shuttled with a hiss and steam pouring out. There was no movements for a moment, only Stormtroopers exiting from the other transports, until he saw the ends of pitch black robes exiting the shuttle. Then he saw the tips of two blazing red lightsabers. The mysterious figure came into full view with the Knights of Ren following closely behind. Kylo believed to be staring at a clone of himself, the mysterious figure adorned similar black robes, his gray and black mask, with a standard red lightsaber in each hand.

 “W-Who is that?” He questioned Hux, completely perplexed. 

“Don’t be foolish Supreme Leader, that is the Bride of Ren.” Kylo’s eyes fell back on the group thundering over to them, finding his theorized clone’s black robes to be framing a more feminine figure, and the mask to be smaller as well. The Bride of Ren? Was one of the Knights married? When had he granted a new member amongst the Knights? The woman stalked towards them, her gloved hands twirling the two sabers, before turning them off, and holstering them to her belt. The Knights of Ren moved past her and bowed before their Master, before leaving the hangar all together. 

The woman stepped forward after their departure, nodding silently to both General Hux and him. Up close Kylo could see the dirt and blood that stained her tight uniform and billowing cloak. “Lady Ren was your mission successful?” Hux questioned, his voice curt and straight to the point.

 “Yes General Hux, it was. The Resistance is no more.” The voice was deep, modified by the mask, but Kylo could still detect the humor and joy hidden in her tone.  “Although it would do you some good to remember,” She paused, a hint of anger evident in her words, as her hands came up to release the tight air locked gears of the mask. She pulled it off in one swift movement, “That I am your Empress.” 

The air was knocked straight out of Kylo’s lungs at the sight before him. The first thing he noticed was the red burned veins trailing up the left side of her cheek and through her one eye as if she had been struck by lightning. Then he saw the blazing red rimmed yellow eyes that were brought out even more by the black shadow coating her eyelids. The woman’s hair was loosely secured in a bun, small hairs falling out to frame her snarling face. Two red circles were painted on the center of her cheeks, with the same shade of red painting her upper lip and a stripe down the middle of her bottom lip, the indication of a Queen. Her black gloved hand shot out and Force choked Hux, “Bow before your Queen.” Her power forced him down to his knees, his eyes bugging in fear. “ Let’s hope for your sake, you don’t forget to show me some respect, next time.” Her hand released her Force induced death grip around Hux’s neck, the cowering man pleading for forgiveness. 

“I’m sorry Empress Ren, it will not happen again.” 

The yellow eyed woman nodded in agreeance, “Yes it won’t, now leave my husband and I.” The General shook as he stood, bowing messily before he rushed out of the hangar. 

Her wicked eyes turned to Kylo’s, a small evil smile worked its way onto her lips. “Hi.” She greeted shifting her mask into her other hand, before quickly leaning up to press a chaste kiss to his lips. Kylo was in shock, he did not move, nor did he kiss her back. The woman pulled away, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “What’s wrong Kylo?” he grimaced at her voice, at her calling him his First Order name, and not his given name. The name she had spoken so many times in their childhood… 

“(Y-Y/N)?” His voice was thick in horror at the darkly consumed love of his life, standing before him. Her eyes seemed to glow a brighter yellow, the red seeping into the middle like fabric soaking up blood. Her concern slipped away as anger replaced it.  All evidence of the girl from his youth disappearing. 

“Don’t you ever utter that name again. You know that’s not my name anymore.” Her voice was menacing, her shoulder harshly plowing into him as she hurried out of the hangar, leaving Kylo in a state of terror. 

 Ben jolted up in bed, his chest heaving painfully. Sweat clung to his hair, face, and bare chest. He whipped to his side finding her peaceful sleeping form still lying beside him, the sun casting streaks of light onto her exposed skin. A shaking hand reached out to gently touch her arm, a relieved sigh escaping his lips. She was still there, not a factor of his imagination. What had he just seen? Vile rose in throat at the thought of her piercing yellow eyes and the raw fury that had consumed her soul. It could not have been a premonition, no he would not let it be. But the horrible thought surfaced in his mind, if he was seeing it did that mean it was already set to occur? 

No, he had dreamed of her death as a padawan and she did not die, it had only been a hologram to fool the galaxy, to fool him. Perhaps this possible outcome of the future had more to it… Ben shook away the thought, he did not want to think of that horrible nightmare again. Most importantly she could never know what he had seen. He stood from the bed and stumbled into the bathroom. He stood in front of the sink, looking into the mirror that displayed his sweaty and blotchy face. Tears were dried on his cheeks, sweat clinging to his hairline, and love bites were scattered across his skin. 

A soft smile worked its way onto his face as he recalled the night before with his love who slept just beyond the wall in front of him. “Breathe Ben, its okay. I love you.” Her words from the night before seemed to calm him down, remind him to be rational. He wanted to be with her forever, even longer if possible, but she could not go Dark, not for him. She was too pure. Splashing cold water onto his face, he willed away him dream, and the fear it instilled in him. Grabbing the small cotton towel to his right, he dried his face, catching sight of something in the background of the mirror, and an idea popped into his mind.

 A rough hand trailed up and down (Y/N)’s bareback, eliciting a small moan from her lips, as it woke her from her slumber. “Take a bath with me.” A raspy voice sounded from right by her ear, lips pressing feather light kisses to her surrounding skin. Eyes closed, she shifted onto her side and outstretched her arms searching for Ben. She was much too tired to walk anywhere. A small chuckle echoed through the room as she felt Ben’s arms pull the sheets off of her and lift her up out of the bed. In her right mind, perhaps she would have been timid about Ben carrying her naked body, but no she only clung to him tightly. He carried her with ease into the bathroom, only stopping before the bathtub. The steamy room smelled of sweet lilacs and roses. 

“I need you stand for a moment, Love.” (Y/N) nodded slowly and felt as she was lowered onto her feet inside the warm bath water. Her eyes finally opening to see the white, purple, and red petals and whole flowers floating along the surface of the water. Oh how she loved him… Ben’s hands stayed firmly wrapped around her waist as she heard him step in behind her. He sunk down into the water, pulling her to sit down between his outstretched legs. A moan slipped from (Y/N)’s lips as she submerged into the water that soothed her tired muscles. She leaned back against Ben’s chest, feeling his head duck down to place lazy kisses onto her warm wet exposed skin. Her dominant hand lifted from the water to the side of Ben’s face, gently running her fingers through his messy locks. 

 It was late, everyone asleep in their huts at the Jedi Temple, except for the two lovebirds. It was the night after their wedding and (Y/N) and Ben were crammed onto the small cot, their breathing ragged as they came down from their high. She was tucked loosely in his arms, her index finger drawing tiny stars on his chest. They were quiet, skin sticky with sweat, listening to the insects buzz outside, their minds still in a lovesick haze from their climaxes. “I love you my husband.” (Y/N) breathed out, still in awe over the word, in awe over the fact that he was forever hers. They were bonded together in every humanly way possible now. She wanted to thank the Stars for bringing her to him, her eternal love. They would love each other for the rest of their days and then into the Netherworld. She was content with that, with him forever by her side as it was meant to be.

 “I love you my wife.” Ben mumbled against her forehead, drinking in her presence. She would probably never get over hearing him call her that. They laid there for a while longer, sleep a distant thought with the electric current pulsating through their veins. Ben was a live wire, every touch he graced her with, only left her feeling warm and alive. She felt Ben’s hands start to dip down her body, teasingly grazing across her upper thighs, as he shifted down to press open mouth kisses to her lips. 

“Already?” (Y/N) giggled in disbelief over his sudden onset arousal. Ben hummed against her lips, pulling her into his intoxicating taste, his hand drifting closer and closer. 

He broke away suddenly with a wide mischievous grin on his face, “For you my wife, I could go all night.” Her eyes widened at his words, the idea floating through her murky mind. (Y/N) opened her mouth to make a snarky comment back, but was cut off by her trying to hold in a moan, Ben’s hand finally finding the place that awaited him ever so eagerly. 

 (Y/N) returned to the warm flowery smelling water and the kisses being pressed against her shoulder. “Hmm what did you see?” Ben hummed against her wet skin. 

She sighed, taking in the feeling of his mouth on hers, “I saw my plans for the next few days. What did you feel?” Ben dragged his bottom lip against her neck junction, his warm tongue swirling along with his kisses. Oh how she could just fuse into his soul entirely… 

“I felt happiness…” He placed a hot kiss to her neck. “Love…” Another kiss was placed higher up. “And Lust.” His hands tightened around her waist as he sucked lightly at her sweet spot just below her jaw. (Y/N) melted under his touch, her eyes closing in a haze, transfixed on solely him. She shifted in his grip, turning to see his handsome face. His eyes lifted to watch her diligently as she leaned forward to close the gap between them. They kissed each other gently, with passion flowing over each time. (Y/N) wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him as close as the confines of the bathtub would allow. Ben’s large hands were tangled in her wet hair as their tongues lazily danced with each other. 

They kissed, and kissed, and kissed, until the water began to grow cold. Ben was the first to pull away, knowing (Y/N) would simply ignore it until she began to shake. “Let’s get cleaned up and go eat.” Ben moved to grab the bar of soap and fresh square cloth, lathering it, and immediately working the soap onto (Y/N)’s skin. She could not protest, only sink into his grip as he cleaned her.

 With a towel wrapped around her body, (Y/N) exited the bathroom with Ben following closely behind her. She flopped down onto the large messy bed, still holding her towel closed in her one hand. Her skin felt warm from the sun streaming in through the window and from Ben’s touches. Ben chuckled down at her, leaning over the bed to kiss her once again. A part of him, that was quite massive, wished to take her again. To hear her moans, her confessions of love, to feel her surrounding him so tightly. But he knew she needed to eat, to gain energy, and then he could bring her right back to bed. (Y/N) watched as he stood back to his towering height and walked over to the drawers and wardrobe pulling out clean clothing. All dark shades per usual. A soft blush dusted her cheeks as she took all of him while he dressed, paying no mind to her prying eyes. He was hers and she was his. There was simply no other way it was meant to be.

 “You get dressed and I’ll go start breakfast, okay?” She nodded quietly still lying on the bed. Ben gave her a smile, before he headed to the door, although he stopped in his tracks. Spinning on his heel, he flew back to her side laying a forceful kiss onto her lips. “You lying in this bed, barely covered, is not helping me keep rational thoughts.” He mumbled against her lips.

 (Y/N) only smiled and stroked his still wet hair, “No one asked for rationality.” 

Ben groaned, a hungry kiss following, “You’ll be the death of me.” With one more kiss, he pulled himself away and left for the kitchen. (Y/N) stayed cemented to the bed, basking in the sunlight, in a lovesick haze. She thought of Ben, of how connected she felt to him and to even herself. He of course was not the end all be all of her existence, there was more to her than just him, but there had been very little of (Y/N) (Y/L/N)’s life without Ben Solo. He was her sun. A selfish part of her thought of the two of them hiding away here for forever, letting everyone else rage on their war. In a fleeting moment the thought had passed, leaving her to feel guilty. They had a part in this war, a huge one, and it was time for it all to end. 

 A faint noise woke her from her thoughts. It was hard to describe; it sounded like a loud hum mixed with something else, something she could not place. (Y/N) rose from the bed, securing her towel under her one arm, heading towards where the noise came from. Across the room, the wardrobe seemed to shine in the daylight, beckoning her forward, the noise coming from inside as well. She opened both of the white doors, finding clothes to be neatly hung up and a black bag resting at the bottom. It was the black bag she had seen Ben pack inside his room on the Star Destroyer. Her hands were quick to pull it up, the noise vanishing as she did. The bag was empty beside for the cylinder shaped item still wrapped in torn brown fabric. 

Carefully she lifted the object, finding the grooves of the cylinder to feel familiar. Unwinding the brown fabric, (Y/N) let out a tiny gasp at what she found. It was a black and silver lightsaber, her lightsaber. The cloth dropped from her hand as she lifted her lightsaber up to examine it closely, finding black necklaces tightly intertwined around the base of the lightsaber. The sight elicited another sharp inhale from (Y/N) as she brought the items up to her chest, clutching them with a firm grip. 

 Exchanging her towel for clothes, she exited the bedroom and headed down the hallway towards the main area and kitchen. Ben was setting down two plates of food when she came out of the hallway, his eyes immediately traveling up to hers. She was silent as he glanced over her, his eyes sticking to her lightsaber she still held firmly. He sighed, “I should’ve figured it would call to you sooner or later.” (Y/N) looked down to the body of the saber once again, her thumb skimming across the metal pieces.

 “I forgot about it, forgot that I dropped it that night. You’ve kept it all this time?” Her head lifted to Ben again, his eyes watching her intently, a single nod coming from him as well.

 “It was all I had left of you, besi-” He cut himself off searching for the black necklaces that should have been tied around the body, only to find them gone. Worry filled his being, where were they? Before he could question if she had seen them, (Y/N) shifted her left hand that gripped the lightsaber, a silver band shining on her ring finger. The concern left Ben, instead filling with something else entirely. She had put her wedding ring back on… 

(Y/N) did not even realize he had noticed before his looming figure was in front of her, and lifting her into a heated kiss. She kissed him back eagerly, her hands grabbing a hold of his face, the cool silver ring such a striking contrast to their burning skin. “Where’s mine?” His question took her by surprise, her cheeks burning even more.

 “I um, I left in the bedroom. I didn’t think you’d want to wear it…” Her voice wavered, nervous and unsure of her answer, unsure of his question. Ben let out a low chuckle, nuzzling his nose against hers. “If you’re wearing yours, I’m wearing mine.”

 With that, he headed towards the room still holding her up and into him. Only once they were inside the room did he set her down, him grabbing the black necklace (Y/N) had carefully laid down on the dresser. His long fingers worked to untangle the silver band from the necklace and once he did, he wasted no time sliding it onto his ring finger. The sight was all consuming for (Y/N), they were Husband and Wife again, well they always had been but now they were acknowledging it. Finally wearing the rings they no longer needed to hide. “I’m surprised it still fits.” Ben laughed a real genuine laugh, his eyes lifting from his hand. His eyes enveloped her whole, she felt locked in place by his gaze, until he set her free with another breathtaking kiss. He could kiss her for eternity and she would never have enough, nowhere near it. Although for the time being, she could settle for these spontaneous bursts that came from him. 

“C’mon let’s go eat.”

 “Must we?” Ben groaned against her mouth. (Y/N) nodded, freeing herself from his grasp.

 “Yes, whatever you made smelled too good to go to waste.” She turned for the door, leaving a pouting Ben behind, although she did not get very far. In one swift movement she was tugged back and tossed lightly onto the bed. 

Ben hovered over her pressing sloppy kisses to her neck, “I can just make it again.” (Y/N) wanted to protest, but she could feel his hardening cock pressing into her open legs, the pleasure of the friction making her eyes flutter shut.

 “You make a compelling argument.” Her hands were tugging the ends of Ben’s hair, a moan slipping from his lips, as she lifted him into a messy kiss.

 After Ben had to make them a second breakfast, their first growing cold, soggy, and unsalvageable, the two were cleaning up the kitchen and plates. 

Drying the last dish, (Y/N) spoke up, “I have any idea.” Ben turned to look at her, his hair still messily sticking in different direction and his clothes wrinkled and ruffled up, she was positive she looked the same. 

“So do I” He said with a smug little smirk.

 She snorted lightly, “Easy Spaceboy, there will be time for that later. I was thinking maybe we could train…” 

His eyes widened at that, “What?” Was she suggesting for them to spare like they had done in their youth? He could not imagine igniting his saber anywhere near her, let alone fighting her. He could imagine the red casting an ill looking shadow onto her glowing skin. It only reminded him of his nightmare, of her two red lightsabers.

 “C’mon I haven’t in years, let’s see if I can still kick your ass!” Ben grimaced looking down at her, trying to fight his conflicting feelings. He needed to forget his dream, to forget that possible future, and maybe this could help. Seeing her with her purple lightsaber, all pure goodness radiating off of her.

 He offered her a hesitant smile, trying to downplay his thoughts, “With a remark like that I guess we’ll have to.”

 Lightsabers gripped in their hands, eyes watching each other like one of their prey, (Y/N) and Ben stood on the flat ground just beyond the lake. Their figures were rigid as they circled each other, studying their movements. He threw her a smirk, quirking an eyebrow, and (Y/N) ignited her saber for the first time in over a decade. The one side of her face was consumed by the vibrant purple light and Ben’s turned red from his crackling crossguard saber. She tried not to seem distraught by the difference, that his one blue saber, was now blackened and bleeding red. 

He seemed to sense her dejection, “Don’t worry I’ll go easy on you.” 

His attempt at a joke earned him a scoff, “Way to take the fun out of everything. Don’t worry though, I won’t on you.” She shot him a teasing grin, before she sprung off the balls of her feet, pouncing toward him like a fearless predator. Ben was quick on his feet too, his saber clashing against hers briefly as he moved to the side. They turned to face each other again, determination written in their eyes and smiles on their lips. It was just like old times… 

The two danced around the field: quick, precise, and strategic movements coming from both. Head to head, their lightsabers hit each other every minute, Ben’s strength and experience starting to give him the upper hand. As he swung his lightsaber forward, he carefully used the Force, sending (Y/N) down to the floor softly. She was quick to the floor, her grip still holding her saber tightly in her one hand, as Ben came to pin her down. Sweat clung to his forehead, seeping into his black hair, his breathing ragged as he taunted her. 

“I guess you can't still beat me.” A huff came from (Y/N) as she wiggled underneath him. She leaned up to graze her lips against his, distracting him long enough to bring her leg up. As a cover she teased his inner thigh before rapidly lifting it higher and kneeing him in the stomach. Ben let out a groan releasing his grip on her, allowing for (Y/N) to flip them around. With her lightsaber a few mere inches from his throat, she gave him a snarky smile, his surprised eyes narrowing at the sight. 

Grazing her lips against his once again she spoke up, “Guess again.” 

“That was a cheap mov-” (Y/N) cut him off, pressing a rough kiss to his mouth. Ben obliged happily, their lightsabers soon turned off and forgotten entirely.

“Ben!” (Y/N) cried out, nails digging into the skin between his shoulder blades. Her shouting only seemed to encourage him more, his thrusts moving quicker and sloppier. Both of them were moaning messes, chasing their climaxes for the second time that day. She had half a thought, in her clouded mind, that if they carried on at this rate they were bound to break the bed. Her legs were wrapped around his hips, each thrust hitting deeper and deeper. It was knocking the breath straight out of her lungs. “I-I’m going to-” Another loud moan poured from her lips as her orgasm washed over. Ben let out a series of incoherent words as her walls tightened around him, inducing his own. Breathlessly the two stared at each other, in a daze from their love filled highs. Slowly he slipped out from between her legs and fell to the side of the bed next to her. With what was left of her strength (Y/N) scooted into his waiting arms. They laid there motionless for awhile, allowing their breathing to come back down and their minds to stop floating up with the stars. Ben’s fingers lazily danced across her sweaty skin, his thumb faintly running over the curve of her breasts. 

“I shouldn’t be allowed to be this happy.” 

(Y/N) perked up at that, “What?”

 He let out a sigh still tracing odd shapes, “People like me aren’t supposed to have someone like you, I think fate was being harsh on you.” His words struck her by surprise, by his vulnerability and for how familiar his words sounded. “Simple, men like you don't care about people like me!” It was she had said to him in his room on the Star Destroyer, when he was simply Kylo Ren and she was (Y/N) Stryker. So much had changed since then, there were so many things she had not known. That she was a Force user descended from a well known Jedi Master, that General Organa had been her surrogate mother, that she had fallen in love with her son. Fate, Destiny, the Stars, the Force, and even the Maker seemed to have brought Ben and her together, there was no cruel hand by it. 

“Ben, stop. Fate was not being harsh on me, you’ve been the greatest gift of my life, despite it all.” His fingers stuttered in their movements, a heavy staggering sigh coming from his lips. She could feel his self hatred rise within, she could see it as plain as day written on his face. “I could never not love you.” She added, a silent tear rolling down his cheek in the process. He nodded, inhaling sharply as a few tears followed. He had been through so much over these years, over his whole life, and she simply wished she could have prevented all his pain. If only she had not been so naive and blind in their youth, perhaps she could have stopped the darkness from rising in him.

 “I-I’ve done so many bad things (Y/N), I don’t deserve anything of this.” She was unsure of how bloody his hands were, but working for the Resistance she had a pretty good idea. He did not say it, nor did he need to, but she could feel his regret, personal sorrow, and hatred. She was not sure what to say. Yes he had done atrocious things, she had to, but would he have survived if he had not? Would Snoke have spared him if he did not shed blood across the galaxy? She knew the answer and she knew he did too. He just needed to accept his past and learn to forgive himself, learn how to make amends for his mistakes. Instead of bringing death, he needed to bring life to the galaxy. Then he could return to the Light with her. He was already so close she could feel it. As long as she stayed by him he would turn. Pressing her hands against his wet cheeks, she consoled him.

 “Shush Ben, everything will be okay. I love you and you love me, that's all that matters.” He stayed silent as she wrapped her arms around him, hugging him. She could feel the tears splashing onto her shoulder as Ben sunk into her hold. Everything would be okay, it had to be.

 Almost two weeks had gone by, (Y/N) had been with Ben just shy of a month. The days seemed to blur together and speed past her. Their days continued on much like before: meals, activities, sunsets, but many hours, days, were spent in bed. Their hips rocking together roughly, his curls between her legs, their moans echoing throughout the house more than once a day. They were touch starved, spending every opportunity to be flushed together as one. A few sets of sheets had been ruined in the process. 

 The night of her 24th day with Ben, the two were lying in the plush green grass of the garden after a lovely dinner. Left hands clasped together and eyes to the sky, watching the twinkling stars. She was content like this, could see herself never having another worry besides how sore she was from constantly having him between her legs. But there were worse things to worry over… ignorance could only be blissful for so long. “Do you remember the ball on Chandrila?” 

Ben’s eyes shifted away from the sky to look down at her, hers doing the same. “Yes, why do you ask?” 

(Y/N) smiled softly, a glow to her skin. She felt so alive with him by her side everyday. “I was just thinking about how we danced all night.” Ben bit his bottom lip, the memory felt so far away his mind. 

“We did, didn’t we?” She nodded gently, her fingers dancing with his. She thought of their blue and purple bodies waltzing through the banquet hall, paying no mind to the rest of the people surrounding them. “I just remember how you stole my breath that night, one of the many times.” A large grin spread across her cheeks, eyes twinkling in love. 

“That was the first time I realized I wanted to be with you more than become a Jedi.” Ben tightened his grip on her hand, leaning over to press a chaste kiss to her cheek. 

They turned back to the stars, before Ben spoke up. “Becoming a Jedi was all my family ever wanted for me, to live up to that mighty Skywalker blood, and for awhile I wanted it too. But in retrospect, all I ever wanted was you, to have you by my side.” Her heart hammered in her chest, she was more important to him than his lineage. (Y/N) leaned over and slowly kissed him, her tongue swiping across his bottom lip. Ben let out a hum and held her head in his massive hands. They stayed like that for awhile, mouths never moving far from each other as they continued to consume each other’s essence. “Dance with me, my wife.” Her eyes gleamed at his words, she took such pleasure in hearing him say the words it was almost too much to bear. Without a moment more, the two stood and fell effortlessly into each other’s embrace. Tucking her head against his, they took small steps dancing slowly. They needed no music, just one another as they swayed in the night sky, ignorant to the rest of the Galaxy.  

        Ben watched as (Y/N) ran back inside, only for a moment, to grab a sweater. The night becoming a little more frigid and the wind picking up. He stood in the garden, awaiting her return, a hopeful smile on his face. It fell almost immediately when he felt something in the Force, a presence. His eyes scanned the open fields in search of the unwelcome guest, his conscience chastising him for not keeping his saber on hand. “You can come out, I know you’re there!” He called into the darkness. A dark haired man stepped out from beside the other corner of the house, blaster drawn and pointing at Ben. 

He recognized him almost immediately, “Ah, the best pilot in the Resistance. I should’ve known you’d come.” 

The man gritted his teeth, his grip tightening on the blaster, “Where is she?” His voice wobbled, as if in fear. Ben knew the man did not fear him, not one bit, not even after his painful interrogation when he had captured him on Jakku. No, the pilot feared for (Y/N), feared what a monster like him would’ve done to her. Ben could hear his thoughts, he knew his mother had told him part of their history, and yet the pilot still believed he would have harmed her. He elected to ignore his question, his eyes vaguely flickering over to the door of the house. 

“Where’s the Jedi and traitorous Stormtrooper you’re friends with?” Ben turned the nonexistent spotlight back on the pilot, his eyes widening at the question. 

The dark haired man’s thought betrayed him, they both were close by along with the Millennium Falcon, his father’s ship. “I said where is she?” The blaster shook for emphasis and Ben almost had the heart to laugh. 

“You’ll just have to shoot me.” 

The man across from him laughed, “That could be arranged.” Ben could sense him going for the trigger, his fingers itching at his sides in adrenaline, just waiting to stop it. The blue blast shot out from the blaster, stopping midway between the two men. Ben looked at the shot, exasperated. It was not him holding it in place… 

Two sets of eyes turned to find (Y/N) standing there, arm outstretched locking the blast in place. In her other hand, she held her lightsaber, her thoughts giving her away too. She had thought it was the First Order, not Resistance.

 “Poe?!” She called clearly in shock. The pilot, Poe, let out a relieved sigh at the sight and sound of her. 

“(Y/N), you’re okay?” The utter disbelief in his voice made Ben release a snarl. Poe walked carefully towards (Y/N), his blaster still raised at Ben. 

“Yes why wouldn’t I be?” She answered him confused, letting go of the blast that shot past Ben into the distance.  Poe gave her a look that seemed to silently ponder her sanity, but he dismissed it for the time being. 

“C’mon the ships just beyond that ridge, let’s get out of here.” His hand closed around her upper arm for a solid moment, before he was sent flying to the ground. 

Ben was quick to pull (Y/N) behind him, “Don’t touch her!” Poe was up on his feet in a matter of seconds, blaster pointing at them both. (Y/N) could sense his lack of understanding, until his eyes landed on her hand peeking out from behind Ben’s tall figure. More specifically, her left hand and the silver band wrapped around her ring finger. His silent questions seemed to be answered, his arm and blaster dropping down in shock. Ben let out a short huff of amusement, “Something the General forget to mention it seems.” (Y/N) gave him a sympathetic look, trying to convey how sorry she was for Ben throwing him, how sorry she was that he had found something completely different than he had expected. 

“Poe, give them some time.” A feminine voice called out from behind them. Rey stood attentively, Luke’s blue lightsaber fastened time her belt. Her eyes fell onto (Y/N) and Ben, a look of sadness swimming in them. She could feel Ben stiffen at her side as Poe stalked away towards Rey. The sight reminded her that there was a war raging on outside of this planet's atmosphere. A war Ben and her had a duty in. They could no longer hide in paradise. It was time to put an end to it. They had grown so close over the past few weeks, the Light practically surging out of him, now it was time to use their bond to save the Galaxy.

Once they were out of sight, (Y/N) turned to Ben with a hopeful, anxious smile. “Come with us! We can put an end to all of this Ben.” Her hand extended outwards to him, his eyes staring blankly at it. She could feel his conflict rising once again, the Dark and Light fighting for dominance. Hope filled her, yes he could break free of the Dark and become Ben Solo once again. 

“I-I can’t (Y/N). I don’t belong there.” Her hope faded, the Dark creeping into his soul, twisting its menacing hooks further into him. She could feel the anger working its way to the surface in her, as she tried to repress the sadness. 

“You don’t belong with the First Order either!” Her words seemed to float right past him, his expression showing no indication that he even heard her.

 He shook his head slightly, “We could change things, end this war and rule side by side. Make things in our vision.” Her stomach dropped, she knew what he was implying. It was the same thing he had asked of her eleven years ago, on this very planet. 

“I can’t.” She tried to swallow her tears, but they were swimming in her eyes already. Deep down she knew what was coming. 

“Yes you can, I’ve seen it! You ruling by my side as my powerful Empress.” Tears fell at his words, he had a premonition of her going dark? She staggered back needing to put some space between them both. Her parents death swirled in her thoughts, reminding her of the darkness she had felt as a child. Perhaps she had always been tempted by the Dark side and it was the path she was destined to follow. No! This was not her, it was only a possible outcome of the future not her destiny. 

“It won’t happen, I won’t act on it.” Her statement was strong, stronger than her will had been moments ago. Even if she chose not to turn, she could not follow him. Not to the First Order, the very thing she had spent over a decade fighting against. Ben let out a frustrated sigh, the Light beginning to vanish inside. “I-I thought you were coming back to me…” His hardened eyes looked up to her, his silence providing her the answer. She had presumed wrong. How could she have been so foolish? He was never going to come back to the Light again, that was why he fought it so much. “You deceived me…” 

He took a step closer, “I never lied to you.” She scoffed lightly, another realization surfacing in her mind.

 “Let me guess, your meditation time… you were really contacting the First Order?” He fell silent at that and more tears fell in response. 

Her Ben was truly gone then, she could not stay by his side, not like this. (Y/N)’s right hand enclosed around her left ring finger and ripped the silver band off roughly. A pain filled howl fell from Ben’s lips. “N-No, please not again. I can’t lose you again. Y-You’re my life.” Tears continued to slip down (Y/N)’s face, her head shaking in disagreement.

“No, we were hormonal teenagers blinded by the idea of first love, we are nothing more than that.” She was hurt, her heart shattering just as it had been mended. 

“NO!” He barked loudly, “You don’t believe that, you don’t feel that. We were destined.” With that she stepped closer, grabbing a hold of his dangling hand. “No we weren’t.” Numbly she placed the tiny silver band into his massive palm. She closed his fist around it and looked up to him through his tears. 

“Goodbye Kylo Ren.” His lips wobbled, tears cascading down his cheeks as (Y/N) turned away from him. Both of their hearts shattering into a million pieces as she left him. The skies began to cry as the two separated once again. Yes, they were destined, she had lied to him. Destined to love each other but never be within grasp.         

Crying silently to herself, she boarded the Falcon that was hidden just beyond the ridge. Rey, Poe, and Finn stood waiting at the top of the ramp, their eyes dropping at the sight of her. Rey stepped forward, her own sorrow clear as day on her face, she cared for him too. “He’s not coming.” (Y/N)’s voice was barely above a whisper, her body trembling. 

Poe put a gentle hand on her shoulder, “I’m sorry.” A part of her knew he was not all that sorry, why would anyone want Kylo Ren to join the Resistance? He only felt bad for her pain. She nodded numbly, Rey and her sharing sorrow filled looks. “Let’s go then.” 

The trio moved for the cockpit while (Y/N) shuffled to the main hold, she did not want to be around anyone. She did not want their sympathy, no she wanted Ben. Another sob escaped her blubbering lips, he had hurt her again, and this time she could not forget. No she would carry this pain until the end of time, just as he would stay in her heart. The Falcon began to lift off the ground, her hand shooting out to stabilize her on the round table, dropping her saber. 

A weird sensation overcame her at the exact moment, (Y/N) gasping at the feeling. She could feel more power surging through her from the Force, the power having a distinct energy to it. Him. They had connected through the Force somehow, their energy adjoining. She could feel his sadness, anger, and pain. And she knew he could feel hers. Her eyes fluttered shut trying to drown out his overpowering presence and Force. 

“We’re stuck!” Rey shouted, confused. The Falcon was stuck in midair, the thrusters not moving the ship at all. 

“What do you mean?” Poe stood behind the pilot’s chair, while Finn leaned over the co-pilot’s chair, where Chewie sat. Rey shook her head in confusion, she was not sure how it was possible but they could not move, they were locked in place. An intense shake began to rattle through the ship, jolting them around in the cockpit. A heart wrenching pain in her chest tore her attention away from the control panel, the girl immediately standing up. Outside of the cockpit windows, she could see the small house in the distance, and the dark figure that loomed outside its entrance in the pouring rain. She could feel his pain, his anger, and his sadness, but it felt intensified, like it was not just his.

 “It’s Kylo Ren, he’s holding us in place.” Finn exclaimed looking out the window as well. The exterior of the house seemed to be crumbling from an immense pressure, they could see chunks of it falling to the ground. 

Poe shifted over to see, a groan escaping his lips. “I don’t know why I assumed it would be so easy to rescue her, they’re so very obviously connected.” Rey’s eyes widened in realization, connected.

The scavenger was quick on her feet, pushing past the boys and heading for the main hold of the ship. Finn and Poe shouted after her, afraid of what she was doing, before they chased after her too. The three came staggering into the main hold, finding a shocking sight. (Y/N) stood in the center of the room, her arms outstretched and hands fisted, her eyes were closed as tears continued to fall. Boxes, supplies, and miscellaneous objects in the room were all floating around her. The Falcon continued to shake as (Y/N)’s fists clenched tighter and Rey could feel her pain too. It mixed so well with Kylo’s she had not realized what was happening. They were connected through the Force, their combined power destroying the small house and holding the trembling Falcon in place. 

“What do we do?” Poe shouted over the creaking metal of the ship. Rey was unsure, she needed to do something or else they would destroy the Falcon. 

“I don’t - I don’t know!” The sacred Jedi texts had not disclosed anything about bonds like this, at the very least she had not read that part yet. Her concerning thoughts were silenced as a blast seemed to project out from (Y/N)’s center, knocking the three down to the floor of the ship. At that moment the Falcon began to stop shaking and stuttered out of it’s locked place. “Punch it Chewie!” Rey shouted, still lying on the floor in a tangled heap with the two very confused boys. The Falcon quickly flew off into the sky, heading for space. (Y/N)’s bright (Y/E/C) eyes shot open, glistening with tears, as she dropped to her knees. The objects floating around the room dropping with her. Rey could feel the connection was gone and so was the Force from (Y/N)’s soul.

The connection was gone and all (Y/N) felt was pain. She sobbed heavily into her hands as she sunk further into the floor, unaware of the watching eyes. No all she could see was the sweet brown eyes she had loved. She could bear to feel his pain, hers was enough, so without so much of a second thought she closed herself off from the Force. No Force, no each other. A vicious cycle they seemed to be repeating. 

Taglist:

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[thegodthief]

So those thingies and those whatsits I vagueposted about have been pretty much settled with me getting two very cheap items (one modified, the other not) because I was concerned that the cost of the modification would be greater than my budget. And so far, both of those thingies have worked as intended.

The modification was removing the glass from the thingie so a moderately sized crystal could fit to create a very personalized “scrying tool”. (Yea, that’s what we’ll call it. A scrying tool. It’s not a lie...)

Many of my peers who are also creating the scrying tool have much larger budgets than I to pull from and were able to use the “normal” sized thingie with presumably crystals large enough to fit within them.

I never bothered to look closely at the size of the “normal” thingie’s chamber because I was concerned about the cost of obtaining a suitable crystal that would fit within it.

Because Other Reasons™, I have a moderately sized crystal ball that I have sometimes used for scrying and/or divination purposes. Never mind the shenanigans that placed it in my hands, it does what it’s purposed to do, and it works with me very well. My previous living situation meant I didn’t have privacy to use it more so I remain a newbie in need of more practice with gazing as a skill. Out of sight, out of mind.

I bring this up because since last weekend when I put together the budget scrying tool, I’ve been feeling something annoyed with me. Not angry. Not upset. Not betrayed. Annoyed with my shit. You know that feeling when you watch your significant other do a task in the most gawd-awful and overly complicated way and it could have been done so much simply and cheaply if they had only swallowed their pride and asked you first? Yea. That.

Today I finally sat down and chased the source of that annoyance.

If you’re going to stop laughing long enough to wheeze that the source is the moderately sized crystal ball, well, you’re right.

“I could [do that]. And I’d be damn good at it, too!” The feeling didn’t carry any words, but if they did, it would be those. And if the feeling had a posture, you already know which one.

It is reported that a 70mm sphere would be the “perfect size” for the shenanigans we are up to with a warning to be no smaller than 65mm lest further modifications be required to keep things in place. My sphere is 60mm and the “normal” thingie already has a feature that would keep the sphere in place without modification.

*sits and stares at the sphere*

*turns and stares at the two small thingies already in place*

*thinks about the purpose of the thingies, how to repurpose what has already been purchased, the thought processes that led me to this point, the amount of money unnecessarily spent, and the projected amount I will have to spend to get back on track or to continue in this folly*

You know... I’m not mad. Really. I’m not mad at all.

I’m too tired to be mad.

I’ve been played. I know I’ve been played. File this under “The Game Piece is Aware but doesn’t know Which Player to Flip Off”.

The first of the two small thingies I purchased was something that feels just right even still. Too small and too well made to be modified for the main purpose, it feels like I’ve been given a key to a door I haven’t encountered yet. I can still use it with some of the intended shenanigans, but it will never house a crystal ball like the main purpose requires.

The second thingy I will continue to bitch about regarding the build quality until the cold death of the universe. Even though I was able to modify it into what is required for the shenanigan (and it looks pretty damn good in its final form) I am still disgusted that for something that was advertised as appropriate for Important Setting™, it looks like something that was hastily assembled in a hidden room illuminated only by a starving candle with only minutes to spare before the Inquisition Inquest Chantry authorities realize you are up to some shit and break down the door.

Now don’t get me wrong here, I’m not an Aesthetic Purist by any means. And I understand certain situations where that kind of duct tape “the gods know my intent” assembly is required. FFS, I lived in that environment for far longer than I am willing to admit to.

I shouldn’t be paying money to relive it. (The cost of shipping it back for a return would have eaten up the amount returned in the first place.)

So.

Here I am, realizing that I had the Most Important Part™ this whole time, but once again, my ignorance of what I have blinded me to what I could achieve. My wallet has a dent that could have been avoided. And just as I think I can lift my head and breathe on my own again, I find a new set of marionette strings.

Maybe later I’ll be able to vent about how these past three weeks have been witness to the strip-mining of my soul, my identity, and the acidic removal of the lies I had comforted myself with.

[sonicasura]

Heir of Ink Ch 2

Chapter 2: To Kidnap a Hyuuga

A month had passed since Hariken had sent that package to Hinata. Over that time, he was busy training with his new form and powers under the tutelage of Bendy. Apparently being reborn as an Inkuhato had a lot of advantages not just the familiars or creating toons and Inkbourne. His body was a living storage for ink. He can consume and hold as much of it as he liked and look completely normal! He could also form weapons with it by manipulating the ink into any shape, form, density and sharpness at will. As long as he had ink, he could create endless amount of items and weapons with ease.

He could also transform his body into pure ink and move around easily slipping through doors, grates to hiding in paper or anything that absorbed ink. He could also manipulate outside sources of ink whether in its purest form or already used for writing so he can copy and sabotage documents to spying enemy bases when they least suspect it. He also realized what Bendy meant about not always bailing him out of trouble. Since half of Bendy’s soul existed within Hariken, he can create a Pseudo-Bendy to help him in battle and can link himself to the demon’s mind but the Pseudo-Bendy was only going to be as strong as he was or how much ink he pumped into it.

He no longer had chakra points in his body since he wasn’t human anymore so his body can absorb chakra but he had a small intake though due to his old body’s chakra reserves however he could still perform jutsu but he needed to boost his reserves if he wanted to do high level jutsu not involving ink. Since he was made out of ink, he was immune to poison so that was one less thing to worry about in battle and his form could change depending on how much ink he was using to change it. So far, he only had his Monster form mastered along with his Toon form and Stealth form.

He wasn’t close to the level where he could manage Nightmare for longer than 3 minutes and he always blacked out when attempting Infernal but he made a lot of progress on not just the transformation but also his Ink Jutsus as well. He was able to modify the Shadow Clone just to create his Ink Clone Jutsu and was working on an Ink affinity Rasengan. He also happened to create some toons to help with the village’s reconstruction alongside 3 toons that Bendy had made. A wolf toon named Boris, an angel toon named Alice and a demon toon named Mina were assisted by Hariken’s toons Tora the Tiger, Kitsune the Fox and Niwatori the Rooster.

He taught Izuku some basic commands before sending him out hunting. This time he had Izuku hunting bandits also. Bendy told him that if Izuku ate human like beings mainly corrupt ones then he would evolved into a better form faster not just hunting rabbit and deer. He told the young Inkbourne to return after a month had passed so he could spend a week with a more evolved Izuku on teamwork. It was about time his partner should return. Hariken was currently meditating in one of the rooms of an estate that they had recently repaired when the door slammed open courtesy of Niwatori. Niwatori was a toon anthropomorphic rooster with an white ink made feathers, feather like hands, black tail feathers, black crown and wore a black butler like outfit with red highlights. Hariken was still new to Ink so he could only give his toons a certain amount of color for now.

Niwatori was known to be quick in going into action when something happened, he was also a good messenger and quick-footed strategist. “Master Hariken! It’s Izuku! He’s returned and he grew much more than we’ve predicted. So much more.” Niwatori had explained as he closed the door almost as if he was keeping something from getting in as the window to the room had turned black. “Niwatori, I think you should get over here before you get flattened like a pancake! I don’t think Izuku wants to stay outside!” Hariken shouted as the rooster toon ran over to the other side of the room with Hariken.

The two watch the door come apart as a big flood of ink washed into the room which was around a good 25 X 25 in size due to the expansion seals while also serving as the living room. The ink had washed in before beginning to conjoin and reform itself into a more suitable form. “Holy crap!” Hariken cried out as the ink blob took shape of Izuku. He had to be at least 50 ft in size right now! The newly grown Izuku was more bulky and built with appearance cross between a beast and a demon.

His eyes were no longer cartoonish or cute but had narrowed and become beast like, his arms were longer than his stubby legs and his fists were huge with spiked knuckles and massive clawed fingers, his hooves had now turned into sharp claw like talons that looked to be used for grabbing things, he had grown a long mane that wrapped around his neck going all the way down his back while cover his shoulder blades to the top part of his chest were his abs had begun, his four horns had grew longer arching down his head before going back up to a point with an extra pair forming a V on the top of his head, two row of spike like blades went down his back to his tail which ended like a mace and his face was now white and morphed slightly into a muzzle holding lots of sharp teeth. He also had a pair of black wings growing on his back too!

Next thing Hariken knew, he was grabbed by a massive hand then lifted to Izuku’s face. “Hey Izuku… You’ve sure gotten big! Don’t eat me!” Hariken spoke nervously before getting licked by a massive black tongue and nuzzled by a purring 50 ft Inkbourne. Bendy had arrived through the back door and merely whistled at the big Inkbourne. “Damn! He must had eaten an entire Bandit Camp if he got this big! I’m glad I added some Expansion Seals into this house or you would have been suffocated! He sure did a good job hunting to come back like this.”  Bendy stated as Hariken shot a little glare at the demon.

“Yeah but he’s too big! If we go to Konohana with him like this, then they’ll call out every ninja like it’s the Nine Tailed Fox attack all over again! I still remember you telling me that I could store my Inkbournes inside of me since they're made out of ink but he’ll still grab a lot of attention!” Hariken explained as Izuku had finally put him down after he drenched Hariken in ink drool. “Maybe you should give him the shrink command. He’s clearly evolved enough to shrink into a smaller and more manageable form.” Niwatori stated as Hariken had hit himself muttering stupid.

“Izuku! Shrink!” Hariken claimed as Izuku nodded as his form melted into pieces before reforming into a much smaller state. He now stood around 3 ft in height and looked very much slimmed down and less beast like than his new form being a good resemblance to Bendy yet Hariken at the same time as he resembled a miniature cute cartoon Bendy with Hariken’s hair and similar clothing. “I swear if any girl sees him, they scream KAWAII and hug him to death! He looks like an adorable mini-you Bendy!” Hariken stated as Izuku held onto his hand like a lost child.

“I can easily see that. He does have our essence in him so it’s natural to take a toon form like yours truly but that’s not what I came here to tell you about. Plans changed. Kumo has moved their meeting date to be in 5 days due to issues involving Konohana Nin and a shared mission objective. We now have less time to prepare.” Bendy explained as Hariken’s eyes widened. “Damn idiots! Is our plan scrapped to hell or can we salvage it?” Hariken asked conflicted by this new info.

“Nope. I wanted you to go through teamwork exercises with Izuku but that’s been shot to hell so we’re going to take a bit of different approach. You and Izuku will do an advanced art known as Soul Exchange. You will share bits of your soul between each other so Izuku should become linked to your mind but he will witness a lot of your memories. I usually don’t have an Inkuhato do this unless they are ready but since you are skilled in my arts I can do it for you without much of an issue. It just depends on how Izuku can handle your worst memories blow to blow.” Bendy explained as Hariken thought about it.

He was putting Izuku in danger and he didn’t like it one bit but Hinata would be in danger as well if he didn’t succeed. Either way he was screwed. He looked at Izuku who somehow understanding the predicament nodded as if accepting the use of the advanced jutsu. “We’ll do it.” Hariken stated as Bendy nodded before walking towards them placing his clawed hands on their heads. “This is going to sting.” Bendy answered as sharp pain went through their heads while they felt and experienced each other’s memories.

It was intense as their forms slightly melted a bit but then retained their composure. Hariken experienced every one of Izuku’s kills while Izuku experienced every painful memory Hariken had as Naruto. Then as fast as it started, it had finished. Hariken’s iris had gained an animalistic feel to it while Izuku’s turned a shade of royal blue. Next thing the former blonde felt was a bone crushing hug from a demonic copy of himself which turned out to be Izuku. “I won’t let them take you brother!” Izuku shouted with a combination of Hariken’s and Bendy’s voice.

“They won’t take me Izuku! Will you please let go? You are kinda breaking my spine here.” Hariken squeaked as Izuku let go allowing Hariken to fix his broken spine. “I dub you two brothers now. As funny as it is, we’ve got stuff to do. I’ve sent Tora to set up a Warp Point near the village via Warp Cartoon. I’ve also set a warp point here since once we get Hinata, the whole Leaf Village will be on high alert so make it to the Warp Cartoon and warp back here. Don’t use it just to go to the village first or they’ll suspect something is coming and this Warp Cartoon has only one use in it. After all, we don’t want the Leaf getting any funny ideas with our techniques and jutsu.” Bendy explained as he straightened his bowtie.

“Do you have your disguise ready, Master Hariken?” Niwatori asked as he knew Hariken couldn’t go as he was looking now for it would raise suspicion later. “Yeah. Watch this.” Hariken spoke as his figure melted becoming unrecognizable until he reformed into an older looking man with black hair wearing a cloak with white clouds and an eboshi hat. “Nice. Very close to the Akatsuki look so you’ll be playing them as well. I’ll even paint red on those clouds to complete the look. Hehehehehe! I’m going to love all the panic you’ll cause!” Bendy replied giddy with all the mischief that was going to be caused as a massive grin was etched on Hariken’s face.

This was going to be good. 5 days later… Hariken had arrived to the Hidden Leaf Village in his disguise while Izuku had taken the form of a black and white cat that was close to his location just to be sure if things were going to be shot to hell but also to alert Hinata’s Inkbourne to make sure it’s at her side and ready to fight when needed. The mission objective was simple. To find and escape with Hinata with the results being distility between Kumo, the Hyuga and the Leaf and Hinata being safe from any breeding plans plus there’s a good chance of a better Raikage being appointed with this sort of mishap kicking the old one to the curb.

Hariken was so lost in thought he almost didn’t notice his target walking into the village. The Raikage’s ambassador who was also his brother. Raikage’s had a habit of their brothers being high up in the food chain when appointed whether as an ambassador to a Jinchuriki. They also tended to be strong physically and tend to hit hard unless your body is made out of liquid or in this case ink. Hariken sent the signal to Izuku who went off in a mad dash to the compound.

Izuku’s Perspective-Inkbourne Search Begins!

Brother Hariken gave me the signal! I dashed towards Hyuga Compound with fast speed! Have to get there before kidnapper does! Warn Hinata’s Inkbourne to be at the ready! Can’t let brother Hariken down. Spots Hariken’s former tormentors, Uzumaki Namikaze family at the Ichiraku Ramen. They seem to be enjoying ramen! Me going to change that. Runs on counter and knock food on them! Little girls scream as noodles cover their head! Minato shocked and Kushina makes mad face! Outta there before ignorant redhead gives chase.

Made it to Hyuga Compound! Guards just changed shift. Seem not to care about animals coming that aren’t rats or roaches. Passes guard who think me as pet cat. Sees kids are getting ready for dinner with ambassador. Found Hinata’s window. Combine and turn body to ink and slip through. No sign of Inkbourne. Where’s Inkbourne? Drip drop drip. Ink dripping to floor… Above! Look up to see Inkbourne emerging from drawing state on wall. What Hinata been feeding Inkbourne? Inkbourne has to be 14 ft in size. Definitely looks female almost like Hinata in looks.

“Your scent is of my kind… Are you of Hariken’s?” Inkbourne seems happy and a bit strange. Sense traces of Soul Exchange. Ask about Soul Exchange. “Yes we have. Dear Hinata shared part of her soul with me. She is a sweet girl. Her daddy doesn’t want to be mean to her but elders force her. I don’t like the elders. Want to get Hinata away from here. Branch members wish her to be free! Elders plan to place Caged Bird Seal on her tonight! Don’t want Hinata to be hurt. Ochako won’t let them!” Inkbourne or Ochako seems protective of Hinata. I tell about plan.

“That will work. Ochako agrees to help. Been learning about clan techniques and helping Hinata. Their stance not for Hinata! Hinata’s stance is like ink! Flows gentle but deadly! Needs everflowing strokes. Hinata be here soon. Attach myself to Hinata like tattoo. Hinata will be safe. Tell Hariken to free Hinata! Let her be free as birds in sky!” Agrees and ask why so big. “Assassin snuck in to hurt Branch Members. Hinata was there and was about to be attacked. Ate Assassin. Rest from treats Hinata and kind Branch Members gives Ochako! Good luck!” Return to Hariken.

Mission complete! Returning to Hariken!

Hariken was currently standing by a fence to notice Izuku had made it back. Hariken reached towards and touched the Inkbourne’s head seeing the new memories he had acquired and smiled. “Thank you Hariken. Now let’s prepare for our time to strike.” Hariken stated. An hour later… the streets seemed empty as a shadow figure carrying something ran past. It was the Kumo Ambassador carrying a sack on his back big enough to hide a child in it. There was no doubt that Hinata was locked inside of it. “These Leaf Shinobi are so damn cocky! This mission will be a breeze and Kumo will have the Byakugan!” The ambassador snickered to himself not noticing something oozing from the bottom of the bag. “Hehehehehe!!!” A feminine laugh echoed as the man paused in confusion and fright.

Then he felt the bag getting heavier before something from inside the bag grabbed the man. It was a black arm with razor sharp claws connected to something in the bag. The man watched in terror as the bag began to grow in size before ripping apart revealing a demon instead of a child. The demon was humanoid and female in appearance and figure with grayish lavender eyes, deer like horns, dark lavender hair, blades on her arms, curvaceous figure, ribbon like protrusions on her thighs, a long tail with moon shaped blade at the end, long sharp claws and there was a white ribbon wrapped around her neck. It was Ochako.

“Sorry but you aren’t going anywhere… Got plans for you after you try to steal what is mine! Now be a good human… and hold still!” Ochako laughed as the next thing the man saw was black while Hariken and Izuku had appeared on the scene. “Ochako? Do you got Hinata?”  Hariken asked as the Inbourne nodded and her chest split open revealing Hinata as Ochako shrank and merged into the girl’s skin forming a tattoo on Hinata’s body. “I’m glad to see you again Hinata. It’s been awhile.” Hariken spoke as he lifted his hat up some showing his face to Hinata.

“Naruto-kun… I’m just glad to see you are okay. I missed you so much and I thought I’d never see you again after you disappeared 3 months ago. I asked everyone who was close to you to help look for you. Then I got your letter and you gave me Ochako. I’m happy to see you alive and well.” Hinata answered as Hariken smiled. “Thanks Hinata-chan. When I was still in my cocoon, I always thought of you and the others. You guys helped me survive my old life and the pain that came with it. Just know that I’m back and I’ll keep my promise to protect you.” Hariken spoke as Hinata smiled and hugged the former blonde.

“Even if you changed, you are still the sweet kind Naruto I knew.” Hinata answered. “Are you ready to depart Hinata? We won’t be coming back here for a very long time. There is much to be done and I don’t want to do it without you by my side. You deserve to be free not caged with a death switch on your forehead.” Hariken explained. Hinata looked back at the village she called home for 6 years before looking back at Hariken.

“I’m ready Hariken-kun. I won’t come back until I’m stronger. Plus I want to stay by your side always.” Hinata answered as Hariken smiled. “Then let us depart. A new life awaits us all.” Hariken spoke as the 4 left the village and not to be seen for years to come.

[imaginethisgalaxy]

hemostasis i

Alexsandr Kallus x Reader Word Count: 4,370. I may have gotten carried away. Prompt: @myeternalsin requested #40 from this list (”You know, you can stay if you want to.”) with Kallus! I hope this is to your liking, dear. ❤️ Warnings: Mentions of serious injury, and some debatably graphic descriptions of certain injuries. I don’t think it’s too bad, but that’s all relative of course. My total inability to calculate hyperspace travel time between Atollon and Yavin 4 should also be mentioned, because neither is in the tool I would usually use for this. So um … pretend it sounds totally reasonable and we’ll all be happy.

A modified freighter is nowhere for the huddled masses – even if those huddled masses are the few remaining fragments of a squadron that all but doesn’t exist. The limited passageways of the Ghost are lined with them, in various states of non-critical injury. They tend to their own wounds where they can, assist with the application of what bacta patches and bandages are available in places others can’t reach. Anyone with medical training and free hands – yourself included – is drifting along the limited path between them, checking in, exchanging bloodied scraps of cloth with clean ones, looking for whatever cannot be seen. There are concussions to monitor, simple fractures to set, and a dire need to boost morale by treating as much acute pain as possible as the ship hurtles through hyperspace in search of shelter from the Empire.

You are so focused on your task – and perhaps he is so focused on the idea of going unnoticed – that you almost don’t see him, set apart in the corner and staring at the grate in the floor as if willing it to open and swallow him up. You don’t have a name for him, not a real one, but you know him instantly by the Imperial body armor, by the muttering and not-very-subtle cutting of eyes to his corner of the passageway among the injured. It can be no one else in the galaxy. Fulcrum.

Pressing a glue stat to an open laceration on the forehead of a pilot, you murmur care instructions to her as you smooth her bangs down for her without really looking, thoroughly distracted now that you know he’s here.  Picking your way through the crowded hall is a challenge, but you manage, aware of the number of eyes watching your retreating back as you make your way down the passageway. It’s an effort not to turn and scold them all, but they’ve had enough already.

You don’t wait for him to look up when you finally reach his corner, tossing a couple of spent bacta patches into a nearby receptacle. “Has anyone taken a look at you yet?”

It isn’t until his head lifts to look at you, only mildly startled, that you see the bruising on his face. The shiner he’s sporting is particularly vivid, and likely painful – at least the split lip isn’t too severe. “I’m fine,” he demurs, and you look at him with about as much doubt as you can muster.

“You’re hunched over in a corner with a black eye, a split lip and probably more than one broken rib if your posture is anything to go on. ‘Fine’ is probably not the word I would use.” He hesitates, and it’s enough. You gesture to the side port, nodding in his direction. “Come on, it’ll even get you away from your new fan club.”

“I don’t know that I would call them that.” “You can call them whatever you want as long as you start walking, Fulcrum.” You watch him consider you before he starts moving toward the blast door you’ve indicated, ducking only slightly into the smaller cargo area before you follow him inside. You press the panel to shut it, to give you both privacy, because of course there are people watching.

Tossing your kit onto a nearby table, you gesture to the makeshift exam bench that’s been set up in the room so he can sit. “You’re going to need to get rid of your armor, and I’ll need the top of the uniform off to inspect your ribs. We’re low enough on stimpaks that we’re trying not to use them, but I can probably make you a lot more comfortable once I get a good look. Did they use anything on you that I should know about? Titroxinate,” you suggest, “Mangoriza maybe?”

“Nothing chemical,” your patient supplies, reaching carefully to begin shedding body armor. “Out of curiosity, do you just keep a bulleted list of the things Imperial Intelligence uses on people around here?”

“Well, it’s sort of my whole job to know that kind of thing.” You move to help him divest himself of the chestplate and wait for him to shed of the top of his uniform, taking it from him and setting it aside before digging through your limited supplies for an injectible health stim. “If I tried to give you a painkiller that interacted poorly with Mangoriza and they’d given you any, you’d be pretty cross with me.” By way of punctuating your point, you press the injector to his thigh and fire it. He barely seems to register it, but that’s likely for the best under the circumstances. “Seems like a waste of a medical education not to keep track.” “I could also be dead,” he offers, but not totally without humor.

You gave him a wry smile. “Well, that would be enough to make me cross.”

There’s a bit of a nod, by way of conceding the point. “You’re a doctor?”

“I am – well, I was. The Empire is in control of the governing bodies for that kind of thing, these days. For the most part, anyone accused of collusion with the rebels gets their license taken away.” You flash him something like a grin over your shoulder, rummaging in your kit for a jar of salve. “Now I’m just somebody who asks people to take their clothes off so it’s easier to poke at them.”

He lets out a huff you choose to assume was meant to be a laugh and your smile widens just a fraction before you turn back to your task, eventually producing a vacuum-sealed container of something that, once open, smells astringent and strongly herbal. “This should help with the more minor bruising, and take some of the pain out of it.” Stepping closer and leaning in a little, you apply it to the bruising around his eye as gently as you can with the pad of your finger. It’s a little too intimate in such close quarters, you’re sure, but it’s the best way to be certain it’s used properly. “It’s made with vincha, so it’ll sting for a couple of minutes and then it’ll be sort of numb. Better than the alternative.”

There is a noncommittal hum from somewhere in his chest as you dab delicately at the bruising on his face, trying to avoid using too much pressure on the worst of it. “I’m sorry you lost your license,” he murmurs, and it occurs to you that he’s trying to keep his face as still as possible. The idea of a polite spy for some reason threatens to break you out in a grin, but you manage not to give it away.

“Why?” You pull back from his face and wipe your fingers on the nearest clean cloth, screwing the cap back onto the salve. “You’re not the one who signed the order for it, are you?”

“No,” he replies, a little more seriously than you expect. “That wouldn’t have been my department. If anything, it would have –”

“I know all of this already, you know.” Your patient balks, looks something close to sheepish, but he doesn’t argue. “I trust our intel, thanks in part to you. … also, I still have the order somewhere, and it’s signed. Not by you. Don’t worry about it.”

“You are a remarkably trusting lot in general,” he says quietly.

“We’re really not. You’ve just been lucky.” The second sentence is a sigh, because you don’t really know how to prepare him for what’s coming. It occurs to you that he likely doesn’t need it, but it’s not in your nature not to try. “Not for nothing, but as good as most people are, there are plenty of people on this ship – and plenty where we’re going – who aren’t going to trust you for a while. Some of them probably won’t ever trust you. Fulcrum has done a lot for the larger rebellion, and believe me, people are grateful. But Fulcrum has never had a face before, and having that face suddenly turn out to be an Imperial officer is … well, it’s going to be hard to swallow.”

“But not for you.” You notice him scanning you with his eyes, sizing you up, and suddenly feel more scrutinized than you have in years. Imperial Intelligence, you think with not a small amount of respect, was probably the perfect fit for him if he makes everyone feel this way just by looking. “What I do isn’t based in trust,” you counter, “it’s based in ethics. If I don’t treat people who need it, no matter who they are, I’m no better than the people we’re fighting. Imperial medics would have left a Rebel for dead, or worse. You know that. Besides, it’s not as if you’re exactly the same as the rest of them. You chose to leave, chose to make a difference. That choice is open to everyone else the same as it is to you. It’s not without consequences, but it is.” Swallowing hard, you move to grab a penlight from your kit. “I do need to check you for a concussion just to be on the safe side, but it’s not stable enough in here for a bioscanner so we’ll have to do it the old-fashioned way. Sit up as straight as you can, please.”

“You seem to know an awful lot about this sort of thing,” he says, and you’re sure it’s at least partly to hide the wince straightening up on the exam bench produces.

“What I know is that nobody leaves the only thing they’ve ever known,” you breathe, not sure why you’re being so quiet with nobody else in the room, “unless the only thing they’ve ever known is a firaxa’s mouth. Soldier or not, Fulcrum or not –”

“Kallus,” he says, pulling back from you enough that he can look at your face instead of straight ahead and into the blinding pinpoint of light in your hand.

The quiet spell over the both of you effectively broken, your brows knit together briefly, looking back at him with your now-empty hand still lifted to its same position as if his jaw was still resting there. Your fingertips itch where his facial hair brushed them in passing, and you flex them gently to get rid of the sensation. “I’m sorry?”

“My name,” he tries again, but a little quieter. “It’s not Fulcrum. It’s Alexsander Kallus.”

You hear more than feel the clicking of the penlight’s power button as you turn it off, but it seems distant. “[Y/N],” you offer in return, more quietly than you intend. You know he’s heard you, you can see him studying your face as if to evaluate whether or not it suits you. Taking a breath, you find yourself trapped in his thrall for a moment, really looking the former Imperial agent in the eyes for the first time – honeyed golden-brown, like good Akivan liquor, you realize – and you almost feel compelled to shake your head to break out of the trance you’ve fallen into. "You’re supposed to be looking straight ahead, not at me, Alexsandr Kallus.”

“Right,” Kallus half-laughs, the grin he gives you only a little lopsided. You’re more distracted by it than you’d like.

“Well,” you begin, replacing your penlight, “you don’t follow instructions that well but you know your own name, your speech sounds normal and your pupils are doing what they’re meant to, so I don’t think you have much to worry about for now.” You motion for him to move his arm so that you can examine his ribs. “Of course, you’re still going to want to see someone who can look you over with a bioscanner when we get to Yavin 4.”

“You’ll be passing me off, then.”

“Not exactly true. I’m just giving you sound medical advice,” you laugh, very carefully touching your fingertips to the black and blue expanse of Kallus’ side. He winces when you apply pressure, but he doesn’t complain. You reach for a stethoscope and hook it around your neck, pressing a palm to his battered side as gingerly as possible. “You may get me again, you may not. I’m not the only doctor we have, and it all just depends. For all we know, you may not see me again for months.”

“That would be a shame,” Kallus breathes, and you glance up at him a little too quickly, eyebrows raised. “I’d hate to end up with the only doctor who doesn’t know what painkillers don’t mix with torture drugs,” he hastens to add, and you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding with a huff of a laugh.

“Everyone is perfectly capable. Their bedside manner is probably better too,” you joke, lifting the chestpiece of the stethoscope and pressing its diaphragm carefully to his skin. “Three deep breaths, deep as you can without hurting yourself too badly.”

“I somehow doubt that,” he manages as you place the eartips into your ears, but then he is obeying and you are too busy listening to the not-quite-right whooshing of air into his lungs to argue the point. The space of three breaths is just enough for you to collect yourself as you mull over the stilted noise his breathing makes under the skin, and part of you is grateful. Pulling the stethoscope away from the both of you and setting it aside, you clear your throat, turning to dig through one of the durasteel-sided cabinets to produce a bacta bulb before sliding it shut and moving back to the countertop to prepare it and a cleaning swab.

“You do have a bit of a collapsed lung in there,” you finally tell him, “but it’s not so bad that I don’t think it’ll take care of itself. If nothing else, once you get to the medbay on base, they’ll be able to fix you right up. Try not to do anything too strenuous until then and I’m sure you’ll be fine.” You hear him make a noise in the affirmative, but keep your back to him, instead watching him carefully in the dim reflection of the durasteel panels lining the wall. You note how utterly exhausted he looks now that no one is openly watching him. Not just physically – you are all drained in that regard, and how you will all manage to pull yourselves together remains to be seen – but there is a weight that seems precariously balanced above him, the broad slant of his bare shoulders enough to tell you that he’s not doing as well as he’d have anyone believe. He’s given up his whole life to try to make everyone else’s a bit better, and that’s no light task. You wonder what he’s risking, exactly – what the Empire will tell his family, if he has a family, or if they’ll tell his relatives anything at all.

Lowering your eyes and swallowing the lump you hadn’t noticed move into your throat, you turn to swab the area clean before affixing the bacta bulb to his side, hands gentle against the mottled purple galaxy blooming along where his ribcage lives. You murmur something apologetic about the cold before peeling the backing off the bacta bulb. “We don’t have bact-ade, so this will have to do until we get there. It won’t speed things up by much, but it’ll start to feel better and it’ll get things moving.” To his credit, he doesn’t flinch, although you can see the shallow breath he takes hitch when you press down to ensure that it’s secure.

“I don’t suppose breathing will hurt less,” Kallus muses, and you smile.

“A little. The bruising is part of it, the bacta really will help. I’ll brace it too; that’ll help you breathe a little deeper, which is a good thing. You’ll want to try to get in a few deep breaths every hour.” There is a pause as you calibrate the bulb, and you consider not saying what you’d like to, but think better of it. “You know,” you begin slowly, very deliberately not looking him in the eye as you monitor the device to be certain it’s working, “you can stay if you want to. In here, I mean.” He quirks a brow when you glance up for his reaction but says nothing, so you take in a deep breath, do your best to ignore the heat creeping into your face and start again. “I don’t think I’ll need to bring anyone back here for quite a while, and you could probably use a minute of quiet after … well, if you want it, it’s here. There’s a bin of scrubs around here somewhere too, if you want to change.”

You can feel the former Imperial’s eyes on you, like he’s evaluating your sincerity, and it’s an effort not to squirm. Eventually you have to give in to the impulse and turn to find a brace for his ribs, only to feel his hands close around your wrist firmly enough to stop you from crossing the gap between where he’s sitting and the supply crates shoved hastily in the corner. You feel yourself swallow hard before you turn to look at him, trying to keep your breath even. “You don’t need to pity me,” Kallus says, and your brows knit at the very idea, head tilted as if you’re struggling with the concept.

“I don’t pity you,” you fire back, twisting your wrist gently in his grip to coax him to let go of you. He withdraws his hand immediately, but nothing in the rest of his posture suggests he buys it. “I don’t think either one of us is better off than the other. Frankly, we’re all in the same sarlacc pit right about now, so there’s no point in pitying anyone. None of us is here to have a good time or feel superior to anyone, we’re here to fight, or in my case to keep other people fit enough to do it.” Turning back to your task, you lift the lid off the crate and set about finding a brace that will fit his torso. You can hear him gingerly sliding off the exam bench, but choose to ignore it.

“I didn’t mean it as a dig at you, you know.”

“I know.” You manage to unearth a brace in what you’re sure is the correct size, tearing the sterile packaging off of it and unrolling it as you turn back to where you assume he is without looking up. “That doesn’t make you any less –”

Kallus is much closer than you expect, and it makes you stop abruptly, blinking up at him and trying not to look too surprised. You’ve likely failed, as he’s less than an arm’s length from you, and you realize suddenly that if he wanted to, he could have you caged between the corner and himself, with nowhere to go. Experimentally, you shift under his gaze, and he makes no move to compensate for your change in position. “Wrong,” he says suddenly, and you do almost start that time. “I think the word you were looking for was ‘wrong.’ You’d have a point.”

“Yes,” you sigh, not sure if you’re relieved or embarrassed but that heat is creeping into your face again and you can’t do much about it anymore. “Compassion and pity aren’t the same thing; one means I want you to be well and the other comes with a superiority complex none of us can afford these days.”

“My apologies,” he finally concedes, and you wave him off.

“It’s not the worst thing a patient has ever said about me. There’s nothing to apologize for. You’re just going to have to learn to trust me a little, eventually.”

“You certainly are an improvement over a medical droid,” Kallus half-whispers, and you feel yourself slipping into a grin before you can stop yourself, lowering your eyes to unfasten the brace.

“Medical droids are useful, but who do you think programs them?” Motioning for him to raise his arms, you move around to secure the stiff fabric around his torso, careful not to press to hard against anything that might hurt. “We use them, but there’s usually a sentient doctor around except in a pinch. Droid programming can’t think creatively; if it can’t come up with a diagnosis based on what it already knows it’s going to make things much worse very quickly.”

Kallus hums something in acknowledgment, shifting slightly as you move around to his back, securing the fasteners and checking the tightness. “You were serious before,” he finally asks, “about me hiding out in here until Yavin 4?”

“I wouldn’t call it hiding out, and I wish you would if just to get a little rest, but I can’t exactly stop you if you decide not to take my advice. I’m a doctor, not a drill sergeant.”

“Not planning to tie me down, then?”

“Not unless you want me to,” you say, before you can stop yourself. You’re suddenly very happy to be behind him, because you can feel everything from your face to your chest flushing and you would like very much to be just slightly closer to the nearest black hole, so that you might throw yourself into it.

But he’s laughing, as much as a person can laugh with a fractured ribcage, and you’re so startled that your hands actually stop moving along the closures of his brace for a moment. “What was that you said before, [Y/N], about bedside manners?”

“Laughing at the person responsible for your well-being seems like a bad move,” you say, although you’re laughing in spite of yourself anyway. The way he says your name makes you a little too happy. “All I have to do is hit you in the side at the right angle and you’ll be a heap on the floor, you know.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” he challenges, looking over his shoulder at you with enough amusement in his eyes that it makes something in your stomach do a somersault.

“My job is to keep you from dying, Kallus,” you clarify, moving away from him to find a shirt in his size among the spare sets of scrubs ferreted in with the other supplies. “There’s nothing in there about you having to enjoy the experience.”

“You definitely won’t be tying me down, then.” Your mouth actually falls open, and he’s laughing again, turning to catch the scrub top you throw at him with an almost infuriating ease. “I will make you a deal, however.”

You cross your arms over your chest, considering him as he carefully maneuvers himself into the shirt. “I can’t imagine what either of us has to bargain with,” you finally admit, “or over what.”

“I’ll stay put like a good patient,” he starts, pausing to pop his head through the collar of the top and ignoring the hair falling into his eyes, “and I won’t tell anyone you’ve threatened me with bondage, but only if you stay too. The company seems better than staring at the wall. Deal?”

There is an incredulous moment where you can’t decide if he’s serious, but the way he’s looking at you – expectant and almost challenging – tells you he is, and it’s enough. Crossing the short distance between the two of you, you reach up to brush the hair back out of his face, taking one deep breath before you answer. “Deal, I suppose.” Backing up to the countertop, you hoist yourself onto it, settling comfortably with your legs hanging over the edge. You watch him watch you get comfortable before he takes up residence beside you, leaning back against the hard surface you’ve claimed rather than joining you on top of it. “I am going to have to do my job at some point, you know.”

“I’m not going to stop you from tying anyone else down,” Kallus teases, and you elbow him in the shoulder with just enough force to jostle him. “You could also talk me through a thing or two, and I could make myself useful.”

“You’ve already been very helpful to all of us,” you say, and you find that you really do mean it. “Besides, what I have left amounts to ‘apply bacta or glue stat, instruct not to pick at it, rinse and repeat.’ Tedious more than difficult. If you want to stick things to people, though, be my guest.” He murmurs something agreeable, and strangely companionable silence falls over the both of you for a while. He is the first to break it.

“Where are you from?” Kallus asks finally, looking up at you on your durasteel perch.

“Chandrila,” you answer readily, tipping your head to look down at him with a small smile. “You sound like you’re from Coruscant.”

“Is it really that obvious?”

You stifle a laugh. “Only to people who aren’t from Coruscant.”

The hours that follow are a game of Twenty Questions that somehow becomes Two Hundred Questions, but neither of you seems to mind. By the time the Ghost reaches Yavin 4 and you begin helping to unload and direct the walking wounded, he has ruined six glue stats but is an extra pair of hands you didn’t know you needed all the same, and you are grateful. People are scowling less – the lack of Imperial rank plate likely helps – and as you pass among people alongside him you realize that he’s already acclimating. You have just enough time to wonder at how much better he looks in scrubs than an Imperial uniform before you lose one another in the chaos; he has to be debriefed, you realize, and you have plenty to contend with in the base’s busy medical center that demands your immediate attention.

It isn’t until the next day, when you pull back the curtain on a patient who had specifically asked for you while complaining of chest pain with shortness of breath to find him sitting patiently on the gurney and laugh so hard you have to close the curtain again, that it occurs to you that you might – just perhaps – be a little smitten.