#galaxy book flex

[silenceofserenity]

Haikyuu Boys as your Boyfriend.

PART 1 ⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

↳ Includes: Kuroo, Kenma, Akaashi, Bokuto, Tsukishima & Terushima

Part 2, Part 3

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

Kuroo Tetsurou

Dating Kuroo means pillows don't exist anymore - he loves resting his head on your thighs instead.

He loves challenging you with trivia competitions but he picks out questions only he knows, so he can brag to you about how smart he is.

I doubt this man knows how to cook and is probably the type to say, "but baby, the way you make it is just so much better!"

On that note, he's a food stealer. If you go and make yourself something to eat, just know he's taking portions when you're not looking.

He'll randomly text you science facts as a way to start the conversation, "hey, did you know that there are more trees on Earth than stars in the galaxy? anyways, I miss you."

His lockscreen is the ugliest photo of you just to annoy you, but he has a hidden photo album with all of your pretty photos named 'my girl/my boy/my partner'.

Wears your hair ties on his wrist 100%.

He's incredibly proud of his body and will take any chance to flex his biceps in front of you.

He'll text you, "please don't be mad" and then follow it up with a photo of his cat next to a broken plate because he swears you can't get mad at a cat.

Grabs your chin when you're distracted just to kiss you and whisper, "focus" in the most smug tone.

Tries so hard to be nonchalant but there is not a single nonchalant bone in his body.

Kozume Kenma

When he's gaming, he will let you lie on his lap and will instinctively play with your hair.

He lets you paint his nails when you're bored, acting like he doesn't care but he actually think its adorable.

Most of your dates consist being at his house or in a quieter setting like a little cafe.

After training, he'll come to you and rant about his teammates, "Yamamoto spiked it so hard he hit Kuroo in the face and no one laughed. I was the only one that laughed. Also, I tripped on a ball and Kuroo said it was karma, can you believe that?"

Loves cuddling with you - whenever you're over he becomes extremely clingy.

If he's gaming and you fall asleep beside him, he'll lower the volume, slide a blanket over you and keep glancing at you in admiration.

He's not the jealous type, but if he sees someone flirting with you he will make fun of them after they leave, "did he really just offer you (food you hate)? Idiot. I know you hate that."

Mario Kart competitions - that's all.

He has really specific spotify playlists for every scenario and has an extremely long one that's like 52 hours of songs you like for when you come over.

He hates PDA but when he gets overstimulated in public, he likes to hold pinkies or something small like that just to get your attention.

Expect random texts from him at any given time - like one at 2am in the morning asking to hop on minecraft.

Akaashi Keiji

I already know this man know how to cook a good meal so you better be ready for the best dish ever.

He's extremely observant and loves watching you speak, so he notices everything - a new habit, a subtle frown or even a slight change in tone of voice.

He loves reading in his spare time, and once he read one of your favourite books, annotated it, and gave it back to you with neat sticky notes saying, 'this part reminds me of you.'

On his phone, all of his notifications are off, except for you (and bokuto) but your name is starred and pinned at the top, always.

When he's annoyed or frustrated, he'll text you saying, 'can I call you? I need to hear your voice.'

After a rough day, he will show up at your house with your favourite snacks, a blanket, and your favourite movies to watch together.

He's the most grounding person, and always knows exactly what to say without sugarcoating it, 'you're capable. You're smart. And you don't need to prove it to anyone to be valid.'

Big believer in forehead kisses!

He lets you read over his shoulder, even if he's deep into schoolwork. If your head rests against his, he doesn't flinch. Just smiles a little.

He's memorised your schedule so he knows when to text you 'good luck' when you have that one evil teacher.

When you're crying, he doesn't panic. He just pulls you into him, rubs your back and mutters, "it's okay, my love. I've got you."

He loves listening to you rant while his fingers just softly trace all over your skin, humming at certain things you say to let you know he's still listening.

Bokuto Kotaro

Bro is literally your biggest fan. You could sneeze and this man would be looking at you in awe.

He absolutely adores it when you wear his jerseys to his games, he'd shout, "LOOK THAT'S MY BABY!!" in public. Especially in public.

Clings to you post-practice - arms wrapped around your waist, forehead resting on your shoulder as he whines about being sore and hungry.

Has NO poker face. If he's happy, you'll know. If he's sad, you'll know. He's also so dramatic when he's upset, "so this is how I die. Heart shattered, and all alone."

He will talk about you to anyone that will listen. Poor Akaashi is actually a victim of this.

This one time when he was in one of his sad moods, you were sitting with him in silence, and letting him rant when he suddenly looked up at you and said, "thank you for being patient with me."

He sends voice messages instead of texts because he claims texts don't show enough emotion but he always gets distracted when sending them and talks through 5 topics before getting to the point.

Random bear hugs. All the time. He loves hugging you, he says you're his safe space.

Probably sleep talks - like you'll wake up to him murmuring, "that's my baby, don't touch them or i'll fight you." He also wouldn't remember it in the morning.

He needs reassurance, but sometimes it's for the most random things. This one time he asked you if you still thought he was cool...

He's definitely got the most chaotic and weird food combinations that he tries to make you eat, "It might look gross but it's made with love, so just try it!"

Tsukishima Kei

Acts like he's not paying attention when you're ranting, but actually remembers every single detail.

If anyone ever says anything to you, he'll defend you but then deny it right after with that stupid smirk on his face, "no, that wasn't defending. I just hate stupid people."

When you're overwhelmed, he won't pressure you to talk - he'll just sit beside you and let you tell him when you're ready.

He definitely follows those dinosaur pages so he can get all the new updates on 'how dinosaurs really looked back in the day.'

Gossiping sessions with him go so hard because he has no filter and will literally say it as it is, "did she actually say that? Jesus, I'm surprised her boyfriend hasn't broken up with her yet."

He let you wear his glasses once, and he made it your contact picture. He claims it's because 'you look stupid' but we all know he loves it.

Pretends he hates PDA but he secretly likes it. You held his arm while walking together once and he called you clingy, yet didn't do anything to stop it.

He's weirdly competitive about game nights and if you beat him in Uno or Mario Kart, he'll go quiet for a bit before saying, "one more. That didn't count."

The only person he will help study is you. Hinata asked him once, and he said no straight up, but as soon as you asked he told you to meet him after school (Hinata has never lived this down).

He always makes height jokes and if you say something he thinks is stupid, he'll look down and say, "what was that? I can't hear you from down there."

He sends you random memes and just adds a comment like, "this is you."

Terushima Yuji

He's the type to compliment you in the middle of an argument to throw you off, "you're so hot when you're mad, you know that?"

Loves post-practice cuddles where he'll literally wrestle you into a hug and then just collapse with his head on top of your stomach.

He always talks through movies like he actually cannot stop talking. "wait, babe was that guy the killer? I though-" "shut up." "Okay, my bad."

His love language is physical touch and always needs to be in some form of contact with you - arm around your waist while walking, head in your lap when watching a movie, legs thrown over you when cuddling.

He's an incredibly unhinged texter and sends the most random messages: "opinions on matching tattoos?" "If you were a zombie, I'd let you eat me." "Look at this dog I saw today, we should get one. Or maybe a baby?"

Carries snacks for you and pretends it's not on purpose. He'll whip out one and be like, "oh you're hungry? Lucky I packed an extra bar. Total coincidence, I know."

If you attend his training, he will get totally distracted by you. You'll be in the stand watching as he turns to look at you, winking just in time for the ball to smack him right in the face.

Honestly, he's quite a messy person, and probably has clothes all over the floor in his room but he uses it as an excuse for you to wear them. "I left them out on purpose for you obviously!"

Gets pouty if you don't kiss him before he leaves, "oh okay... guess i'll just die then."

[frostbitebakery]

LOUD.

part one two three four five six seven eight nine

“You’ve got something there,” Quin says, gesturing vaguely at his own shoulder.

“I’m aware,” Obi-Wan signs. “It’s some sort of monkey lizard fungus.”

The monkey lizard fungus giggles into his shoulder.

Quin nods grimly. “I heard the only cure is to placate it with sweets and hope for the best.”

Anakin precariously leans over, heels accidentally digging into still bruised ribs.

Obi-Wan bites his lips behind the collar but of course Quin immediately detects his movements turning stiff.

Quin holds out an arm, flexing his bicep with wiggling eyebrows. It has the desired effect and Anakin jumps from Obi-Wan, swinging around the elbow before hooking his knees over Quin’s arm.

“He’s heavier than he looks,” Quin strains out.

They walk to one of the mess halls that’s open around the clock and mainly offers food and beverages to those clinging with teeth to their sanity during exam season.

One of the cramming Padawans looks up from their dozen holo books displaying graphs, and squints at them. “Master Vos, there’s something growing out of your arm?”

“Monkey lizard fungus,” Obi-Wan signs, hiding a smile behind his collar at the Padawan nodding to themselves as if that makes perfect sense.

“What’s with them?” Anakin asks, looking at the sleep deprived tableau and hoisting himself up and swinging one leg over Quin’s shoulder.

“This is your future,” Quin says gravely and Obi-Wan is catapulted to melting stone fire Darkness “You were supposed to be my Master!” yellow familiar eyes from a smoking alive corpse and the grief is ripping him apart “—see once you take your first assignments. The only places you’ll be is either here or the Archives.”

It’s been years since he last had a vision. It’s staggering, his heart thumping in his chest like a clock ticking down the inevitable countdown. But it’s not.

He looks over to Anakin who’s already watching back with wide eyes, the fear in his hands gripping onto Quinlan. “I won’t let it come to that,” he promises, fingers thudding together heavily but he’s still shaking off the vision and Anakin’s fear is a taste in the air by now. He can’t not make promises he only hopes he can keep.

Quinlan is silent during their exchange, gloved hands keeping hold of Anakin. The calculating look in his eyes a guarantee Obi-Wan is going to get cornered later.

.

“Do you like Depa being your Master?”

Let it be said, paranoia is a common infliction amongst Shadows.

“Obi-Wan,” Anakin sighs, voice breaking with puberty and annoyance. “Depa is wizard. She’s amazing even though she’s signed me up to all these classes.”

Obi-Wan looks over all the models, plans, and concepts with added calculations. There’s a data pad displaying language modules and another proclaiming the joys of agriculture. “It’s almost all in the engineering field,” he signs.

“Which makes her so wizard. You’d never have me taking up gardening though,” Anakin adds sullenly.

Don’t yearn for things I cannot give you, Obi-Wan has thought a lot in the past few years as the Galaxy seems to slowly steep in Darkness.

“Knowing what can poison you is important,” he signs, feeling restless and helpless. The mission he’s finished two cycles ago may still reside in his bones.

“I’ll just bite back,” Anakin says, tongue sticking out as he connects wires to ports. He presses a button and the thing he’s been tinkering with since before Obi-Wan left starts to purr smoothly. “Now she can even juice cocadooms,” he says, satisfaction purring just as smoothly in his voice.

“Well done.”

“I know,” Anakin responds airily and swivels around to face Obi-Wan fully. “You’re lurking in the shadows again so let’s get this tradition over with: Depa is an awesome Master and maybe I sometimes wish you’d have chosen me but,” he adds loudly when Obi-Wan lifts his hands to protest, “I also sometimes daydream Master Tiin had chosen me because he’s got his own modded Delta-7.”

The paranoia settles down as Anakin waxes over how wicked the new wing box skins and sensor fusions are, no, truly, you should see them, Obi-Wan!

[xx-lucifuge-xx]

"Girl, why are you making a Tumblr blog for the first time in 2025???"

Kay y'all, here's the thing...

Social media right now? Ass. Every time I open my Instagram I am met with a sea of bullshit that usually ends of making me feel braindead or incredibly depressed. While I love my friends, I'm at the point where I need an outlet to ramble about the silly things that occur in my day-to-day life completely disconnected from my real-life social circle. A diary of sorts.

So anywayssss here's a little bit about me!!

✨ I'm from Chicago

✨My favorite activity is getting stoned and going on several mile long hikes in nature (my record is 13 miles in one go).

✨I do neuroscience research on seaslugs (Aplysia californica) and am a published author in an academic journal (my biggest flex lowkey)

✨I'm a biology major/chemistry minor

✨My favorite book is the Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy (I have the cosmic cutie tattooed on my leg)

✨local punk shows are my sanctuary

✨Clerks is my favorite movie (clerks 2 makes me want to throw an axe through my tv screen)

✨I would like to kiss a shark

✨My favorite bands are Cancerslug, the Misfits, Sisters of Mercy, Gwar, the Dwarves, Type O Negative, Ghost, the Ramones, and Primus (I will literally listen to anything that could be classified as 'alternative')

✨I <3 tattoos!!!

Anywhoooo please be my pal, I have no idea how to navigate this platform and any advice would be stellar!!

Much love!!!

-D

[soaringthroughthegalaxy]

hi! i saw the soaring’s tour post (love the name btw it’s soo cute!) and i figured i’d book a trip💕✨

my travel companion is wolffe (i love this man so much😭)

our luggage is slice of life/family and romance

we were thinking of going to tatooine and yavin 4

i’m the wolffepack’s medic. i’m the sunshine to his grumpy storm cloud, but he’s always had a soft spot for me. we’ve been together for a while now, and i think he’s gonna pop the big question during this trip, if you know what i mean *wink wink*

that’s all i got to tell you! i can’t wait for this trip, but absolutely no rush though!! thank you so much for helping to plan this trip! have a wonderful day/night!!!

Thank you for booking with Soaring's Tours. We're now ready to board your flight. Please mind the gap between the transport and the platform. We wish you a pleasant journey!

Part of the Pack

Amidst the chaos of the war, you've found solace and love in the arms of your grouchy Commander. As you steal a moment away from the battlefield, the future becomes all that more exciting.

Pairing: Wolffe x f!reader

Word count: 2k

Warnings: fluff, sweetness, grumpy and sunshine.

Translations: meshurok - gemstone

The sound of your heels clicking echoed down the hallway of the ship, and every trooper you passed gave a slight dip of their head in greeting. You returned it with a smile, hands smoothing down the front of your dress.

Two years you’d served as a medic for the Wolfpack - two years of patching them up after they charged headfirst into chaos. Two years of being madly in love with their grouchy Commander, too. You wouldn’t trade it for the galaxy.

Although outwardly calm, your mind raced. This morning, your comm had beeped with a message from Wolffe, asking you to meet him in the hangar – with the stipulation that you wear something nice instead of your usual gear.

As you approached the hangar entrance, your heart quickened with excitement and apprehension. The hum of activity intensified, with mechanics scurrying around and ships being prepped for departure. Amidst the organised chaos, you could easily spot Wolffe standing near the edge of the hangar, his back turned towards you. Gone was his armour and blacks; instead, he was dressed in civilian clothing – black pants that hugged in all the right places and a grey button-down with the sleeves rolled up. His presence still exuded authority and confidence, yet there was a subtle tension in his posture that you’d learned to recognise. He wasn’t happy about something.

Approaching, you stopped at his side, biting the inside of your lip to suppress your smile as you came face to face with the source of his ire.

A droid.

But not just any droid.

That blasted protocol droid that had joined you all on Aleen.

As the droid prattled on, you could sense Wolffe’s frustration rising. His posture was rigid, shoulders back, lips pressed flat. While it would’ve been fun to remain silent and watch him become increasingly annoyed, you figured it was time to end his suffering. “I’m so sorry to interrupt, but I need the Commander.” You interjected, offering the droid an apologetic smile.

Wolffe finally glanced at you, hand flexing at his side as he tampered down the desire to reach for you. “No need to apologise.” He answered, gaze shifting to you. “We were just finishing up here.” With a curt nod to the droid, he gestured for you to follow him as he strode away towards a small ship docked nearby.

Together, you entered the ship, and once the ramp was closed, you found yourself pulled into his arms. While your relationship was no secret among the pack, it wouldn’t do for prying eyes to spot you.

“You look good enough to eat, meshurok.” Wolffe complimented, his voice low and warm. While the droid had raised his ire, one look at you had swept it all away. “I hope you’re ready for a little adventure today.”

Your heart fluttered, and you nodded eagerly, excitement bubbling within you. Whatever Wolffe had planned, you knew it would be unforgettable, just like every moment you’d spent by his side. “Do I get a clue?” You teased, smiling up at him as you smoothed your hands across his chest, enjoying the softness of his shirt and the firm muscle beneath.

Wolffe grumbled under his breath. You were always teasing, using your pretty smile to make him melt. But not today. Today was too important. “No clues.” He muttered, but there was a hint of amusement in his tone. Leading you into the cockpit, he settled you into the copilot’s seat before taking the helm.

As the ship hummed into life around you, you couldn’t help but steal glances at him, admiring how his jaw tightened in concentration, yet his eyes softened whenever they met yours. Despite his tough exterior, a tenderness was hidden underneath, a gentleness reserved only for those he cared about. His grumpiness might have been legendary, but so was his unwavering loyalty and fierce protectiveness towards the pack and you.

As the ship lifted off smoothly and soared into the endless expanse of space, he made the jump to hyperspace. “I wanted to steal you away for a moment,” Wolffe admitted, his gaze fixed on the star-studded vista beyond the view-port before he glanced your way.

“You’re taking me on a date.” You stated, unable to stop your wide smile from appearing again. It wasn’t often the two of you had time away from the war effort, and you could count the number of actual dates you’d been on on one hand. Most of the time, you made do with stolen moments between missions - the quiet brush of hands in silent hallways, passionate kisses in empty med-bays, and stolen hours tangled in sheets when no one would disturb you.

Wolffe’s lips twitched into a faint smile at your deduction. “Something like that.” He replied cryptically as his fingers tapped against the controls.

Curiosity curled through you. Wolffe had always been an enigma, but he’d never kept you in the dark. He’d taken to you surprisingly quickly, growing more comfortable around you until one night, when you’d swung by his makeshift office to check on him, you’d ended up pinned against the crates that had been turned into a desk, the firm planes of his body pressed against you as he’d kissed you wildly.

By the morning, he’d made you his, complete with his tags around your neck.

As the ship finally dropped out of hyperspace, you found yourself gazing upon a breathtaking vista - the planet below bathed in the soft glow of its sun, its surface a patchwork of vibrant colours and swirling clouds.

Wolffe glanced over at you as a hint of a smile tugged at the corner of his lips, taking in your awestruck expression. “Beautiful, isn’t it?” He remarked softly. “But not nearly as beautiful as you.” He tacked on.

Pulling your gaze from the view, you offered the man by your side an amused smile, feeling warmth in your cheeks. “Sap.” You teased, still not used to the compliments after all this time.

“Don’t go telling anyone.” He grumbled though mirth danced across his face.

The sun started setting as you leaned back against Wolffe’s chest. He’d set the ship down atop a small hill, and upon exiting you’d been surprised to find a blanket already laid out, along with a basket of food. He’d neither confirmed nor denied that he’d sent Sinker and Boost out earlier to set it up.

The two of you had spent some time catching up, enjoying the food and each other’s company. Without eyes on you, you were free to share as many kisses and touches as you liked. Wolffe had finally propped himself up against a nearby rock, drawing you to sit between his legs, wrapping his arms around you as his chin came to rest on your shoulder.

The sky above painted a breathtaking palette of oranges, pinks, and purples as the sun dipped lower on the horizon, casting a warm glow over the landscape. The gentle breeze tousled your hair as you leaned into Wolffe’s embrace, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against your back.

“I could stay like this forever.” You murmured, your voice barely above a whisper as you watched the colours of the sky blend and shift with the approaching twilight.

“Me too.” Wolffe pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head, his arms tightening around you in a silent promise of protection and comfort. “You’re my anchor.” He confessed quietly, a tenderness reserved solely for you in his voice. “In this chaotic galaxy, you’re the constant I can always rely on.”

Warmth spread through your chest at his words, and you turned your head to meet his gaze, finding a depth of emotion reflected in his eyes that took your breath away. “And you’re mine.” You whispered, reaching up to draw your finger down his cheek, across the scar from the close call that had nearly taken him from you. “No matter what, I can always count on you to be there for me.”

Wolffe’s expression softened even further at your words, his rough exterior giving way to a vulnerability he only showed you. “I may not always say it, but I love you.” He confessed, his voice barely above a murmur as he pressed his forehead against yours. “More than anything in this galaxy.”

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you leaned into his touch, overwhelmed by the depth of emotion between you. “I love you too.” You whispered, your voice trembling with emotion. “More than words can express.”

With the confession hanging in the air like a delicate promise, Wolffe’s heart pounded in his chest, nerves fluttering like a thousand tiny butterflies as he watched you turn your focus back to the sunset. He knew what he wanted to say next, but the weight of it pressed down on him. He never thought this moment would come, that he’d get to love someone as bright and beautiful as you. Taking a deep breath, he steadied himself as best he could, unwrapping an arm from around you as he reached into his pants pocket to find the small box he’d kept a secret for weeks now.

“There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you.” He stated, his voice slightly hoarse with emotion.

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, but before you could turn around to face him and ask him what was wrong, his arm was back around you, and in his hand, he clutched a small box, open to reveal a delicate ring nestled within.

As you gazed at it, your breath caught in your throat, the metal gleaming softly in the fading light.

“Ner meshurok,” he began, his voice husky with emotion, “I know we’re living in uncertain times, fighting a war that seems to have no end. I can’t promise you a lifetime of peace or stability, but whatever life I have, I want to spend it with you.”

“Wolffe…” You whispered, your voice barely a breath as you looked over your shoulder at him, meeting his gaze. Tears welled up in your eyes as you took in the unexpected nervousness on his handsome face.

Wolffe swallowed thickly, moving his free hand to brush your hair from your face. “Will you marry me?” He asked quietly.

The words hung in the air, a silent plea for your answer. But before you could respond, you twisted in his lap, throwing your arms around him, burying your face in the crook of his neck as tears of joy streamed down your cheeks.

“Yes.” You whispered, your voice choked with emotion. “Yes, a thousand times yes.”

As Wolffe held you tightly in his arms, relief flooded him at your answer. He buried his face in your hair for a moment, breathing in your scent, before you both pulled back slightly to look into each other’s eyes. Carefully, he slid the ring onto your finger, his touch gentle yet sure. As the metal settled against your skin, a sense of completeness washed over you, like puzzle pieces finally falling into place.

You couldn’t help but marvel at how it caught the fading light. The moment felt surreal as if you were suspended in time, cocooned in the warmth of Wolffe’s embrace and the promise of a future together.

“There, all official.” A rare grin crossed his lips. “Guess I’m stuck with you now.” He grumbled good-naturedly, lifting his hand to wipe away the tears that had rolled down your cheeks.

You couldn’t help but laugh, the sound bubbling up from deep within you as you leaned in to press a kiss against his lips. “You wouldn’t have it any other way, Commander.” You teased, your heart overflowing with love for the man who had become your everything.

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[badbatchposts]

Quiet Corners of the Galaxy, Ch. 15

Fic Teaser: While on a routine mission for Cid, the Bad Batch encounter a woman fleeing from the Empire. Crosshair suspects her seemingly free-spirited, nomadic existence is actually a cover for something else, but struggles to keep his attraction toward her in check as their personalities and ideals clash.

Relevant tags/content warnings: Crosshair/Original Female Character, Slow Burn, Enemies to Lovers, Periodic Smut, Canon-Typical Violence, Alcohol Use

Chapters posted 1-2x weekly!

Read the full fic so far on AO3

Read previous chapters on Tumblr: Ch. 1 l Ch. 2 l Ch. 3 l Ch. 4 l Ch. 5 l Ch. 6 l Ch. 7 l Ch. 8 l Ch. 9 l Ch. 10 l Ch. 11 l Ch. 12 l Ch. 13 l Ch. 14

Chapter 15 summary: The Batch deals with a series of complications in the villa heist.

“Talk to me, Tech,” Hunter growled. “Can you disable the alert?”

“Stand by.” The group shifted impatiently in the corridor, uncomfortable with being stuck out in the open while they waited. Their surroundings were incongruous with their tension: there were no alarms, lights, or sirens, the alert apparently being confined to the computers in the control rooms—at least, for now. They let out a collective sigh when they heard Tech’s voice again.

“It has been deactivated and coded as a false alarm, although I could not prevent the laboratory in town from being notified.”

Hunter grunted. “Then we’ll have to be quick. Can you override the doors?”

“The blast door, yes. The regular door will be more of a challenge without the clearance of an identification card,” Tech mused.

Wrecker grinned. “I got it. If I rewire one of these EMPs real quick, I can probably short out the door’s circuit so I can pry it open.”

“Good idea,” Hunted nodded approvingly. “Crosshair, any activity outside?”

“I think the guard out front knows. He reacted when the alert went out, but he’s not abandoning his post. He’ll likely send the patrol to check things out the next time that they pass his station, since he can’t raise them on comms.”

The Sergeant swore quietly. “Update us when that happens. We’ll try to be out before then.”

Finally, the blast door opened with a quiet hiss. A few moments later, Wrecker held up a small device gleefully and stuck it to the control pad.

“Uh…Echo, better step back a bit. Just to be safe,” Wrecker advised. Grumbling a little, the ARC backed off to a safe distance before his brother activated the device, which blinked before shooting off sparks. Flexing his biceps playfully, Wrecker heaved open the door.

“We’re in. Get over here, Tech,” Hunter instructed.

The squad wasted no time entering the lab, whose gleaming white tile and shiny durasteel matched the rest of the basement. It was a larger facility than they might have expected: a handful of rooms opened off of a wide hallway lined with cabinets and blinking computers, each area boasting equipment that betrayed various experiments in progress. One room let off a deafening racket of shrieks and hoots. A cursory glance revealed cages upon cages of enraged Kowakian monkey-lizards.

“Probably test subjects,” Echo murmured with a shudder.

“So where’s our vault?” Wrecker asked, cracking his knuckles as though he was planning on wrenching it open with his bare hands.

Hunter glanced up as Tech joined them. “I’m not sensing any unusual electromagnetic impulses. Are you sure the vault’s here?”

His brother frowned and shrugged. “I do not know for certain, but this is the most likely location.”

Dara stared toward the end of the hall, where a greater-than-life-size portrait of an older man with a severe expression took up the majority of the wall. He wore a lab coat, a beaker in one hand and a datapad in the other, and at his feet rested piles of books—the antique kind, made of bound flimsi. She approached the artwork, pointing. “That’s Prium, right? Kind of an old-fashioned guy,” she mused.

Wrecker tilted his helmet up, revealing his face, which was scrunched up in frustration. “Yeah, he looks like a weirdo.”

She gestured toward the portrait. “Wrecker, can you get this thing down?”

Hunter frowned. “What are you thinking?”

Dara glanced up at him. “I’m thinking that Prium is traditional and paranoid. Security systems and doors can be overridden. Electronic vaults can be detected and sliced. But antique vaults…not a lot of people know how to open those anymore.”

Sure enough, Wrecker removed the painting to reveal an enormous metal panel, inset into the wall behind it. The panel was divided into a series of squares, each with a round, metal knob in the center. It was not immediately evident how the vault door was meant to be unlocked.

“Can you blow it open?” Hunter asked his brother.

Wrecker rapped his knuckles against the metal, then shook his head with obvious disappointment. “With what I have on me? Not unless we want to take down the whole building with it.”

Tech was watching Dara with great interest, noticing a thoughtful expression on her face and a gleam in her eye. He nodded to her. “I presume you have an idea?”

Dara touched the metal knobs, allowing her fingers to roam, probing gently and rapidly. Finally, one of them shifted beneath her grasp; she twisted until one of the squares pulled out and shifted to the side, revealing a keyhole beneath.

“It’s kind of brilliant,” she observed idly. “Anyone would come ready to try to bypass an electronic vault, but you don’t see a lot of mechanical locks anymore, much less a historic thing like this. Ironically, sometimes when our technology gets more advanced, the traditional methods become more secure—the typical person doesn’t know what to do with them.”

She disappeared into one of the side rooms of the lab, returning with a haphazard collection of slim metal instruments. “I obviously don’t have the materials for this on me, but these should work okay. Tech, any similar tools in your pack might be helpful.” 

Hunter raised his eyebrows as she set to picking the lock, switching out occasionally between the apparatuses she had collected and those proffered by the technical specialist. “How long is this going to take you?” the Sergeant asked dubiously.

She tilted her head, still focused in concentration. “There’s likely three more locks to disengage after this one. It’ll be a while.”

Tech looked on with fascination as her fingers worked. “Where did learn this?”

“Working with primitive cultures means getting familiar with primitive technologies. It’s kind of a hobby,” Dara explained.

“Sure it is, burk’yc,” Crosshair goaded over the comms. “Patrol is approaching the front guard station. Orders, Hunter?”

“Signal us when they enter. Echo, go upstairs and get in position to take them by surprise. Stun them and put them with the others,” he instructed.

The ARC trooper set off with a determined nod. Fifteen minutes later, Dara had managed to spring the first lock, and Echo reported that the patrol was dealt with.

“This is taking too long,” Wrecker grunted impatiently. Dara cast him a glare over her shoulder, and he grimaced apologetically. “Sorry. I just mean, they’re going to get suspicious again.”

Hunter sighed. “Wrecker is right. How many guards are left?”

“Nine, by my count,” Echo informed them.

“Alright. Wrecker and I are coming to meet you—we’ll get them out of the way and take some of the pressure off. Tech, watch Dara’s back.” The former pair set off at a trot, leaving the latter bent in intense concentration.

Absorbed in observing Dara’s technique, Tech waited until she had sprung the second lock before speaking.

“This is an interesting hobby,” he probed, hoping his tone came out less skeptically than Crosshair’s had.

Dara smiled and rolled her eyes. “I always liked puzzles. I learned a bit about vaults like these doing research on idioms for secret-keeping. Then—I told you I’ve bartended in all sorts of shady places, right—believe it or not, I was briefly…seeing…this guy I met on the job who was a lock breaker and specialized in this.” She shook her head ruefully. “Obviously it didn’t work out, he was a sleemo. But he taught me some things.”

Tech allowed himself a small smile, feeling a flame of companionable sentiment towards Dara curl up inside him, despite his ongoing suspicions. They had kept many details of their life away from the woman, but still, it couldn’t hurt to mention some things—could it?

“I myself am…seeing…a pirate,” he confessed. “She, too, has an interest in what she refers to as ‘the liberation of ancient wonders.’ Though I have never had occasion to see it, I imagine that this skillset is within her repertoire. If not, she would certainly love to learn. I wonder if you can teach it to me sometime.”

Dara popped the third lock open and moved on to the next. “I’d be happy to, Tech. What’s your pirate’s name?”

“Phee. I believe that you would quite like her. She has been many places, and has many excellent stories, some of which may even be partially true,” Tech reflected fondly.

Laughing, Dara shook her head and took a moment to push a strand of hair out of her eyes as she continued her work. “I hope to meet her someday.”

They drifted into a companionable silence, which was only interrupted minutes later by Hunter reporting that the remaining guards had been taken care of.

“Excellent timing,” Dara declared as she sprang the final lock on the vault. She stepped back; grunting a little with the weight of the metal, Tech slid the panel aside and peered in. His mouth dropped open in a stunned expression that was out-of-place for his typically reserved and unemotional demeanor.

“Oh, kark,” he swore uncharacteristically.

Echo groaned over the comms. “Don’t tell me this stupid job has yet another complication.”

Tech sighed in frustration. “The records are not on computer or data chips. They are all on flimsi.”

“Boxes and boxes of them,” Dara filled in. “Too many to scan. It’ll take ages to move them all.”

“Seriously. What is with this guy?” Wrecker bemoaned.

“Crosshair, go get the Marauder,” Hunter directed. “It’ll go faster if we load it up here. The rest of us will get down there and start hauling boxes.”

While they waited for the others, Tech and Dara examined the inside of the vault more closely. The small space was crammed, mostly with uniformly sized white boxes. Tech opened one and skimmed the file folders packed inside with nimble fingers, taking in the neatly labeled project names and patent numbers, though what drugs and technologies they alluded to he could hardly guess at.

Dara’s eyes drifted toward the back corner of the vault, where a much smaller box sat on an otherwise empty shelf. A little clumsily, she shoved her way through the cramped space to reach for it. When she flipped open the lid, Tech detected the faintest blue glow reflected in her eyes.

“What have you discovered?” he asked. Behind him, Hunter, Wrecker, and Echo crowded into the small doorway, craning their heads to get a good view of the room.

She shook her head. “No idea. It’s not labeled.” She carefully plucked a small vial of blue liquid from the protective casing and held it out to Tech, who scanned it with his datapad.

“Hmm,” he mused. “It does not match any known chemical compound that I am aware of. Perhaps it is a new experimental drug.”

Dara looked preoccupied. “Strange that it would be in the vault at all. If it’s in development, samples should be stored elsewhere. This is meant to keep company files secure, not experiments in progress.” She returned the vial to its container and tucked it away in her bag for safekeeping as they all began to haul boxes into the lab beyond.

Suddenly Hunter stiffened and tilted his head, signaling the others for silence as he listened. “We’ve got company,” he growled. “Two speeders just pulled up in front.”

“Looks like Raab wasn’t satisfied that the alert was a false alarm,” Crosshair drawled. “He brought reinforcements. Another dozen guards. I’m landing the Marauder on the roof, we can load it up there.”

Wrecker grinned wildly. “A dozen? That’s nothing!”

Hunted rolled his eyes. “Alright. Crosshair, keep them busy. Tech and Echo will intercept them at the front entrance. The rest of us will get these boxes moving.” The pair departed, and only a moment later the tell-tale blast of Crosshair’s rifle and a handful of distant, panicked shouts echoing over his open comm line informed them that he was following instructions and had the guards pinned down. Meanwhile, Wrecker located an anti-grav cart in a nearby storage room and they began hurriedly stacking boxes. When the cart was full, Dara glanced backward into the vault, where plenty still remained.

“We’ll have to make two trips,” she pointed out. “There’s an elevator that should go to the roof two corridors west.”

“Go ahead, Wrecker, we’ll hold things down here,” Hunter directed. Grunting quietly, they continued moving boxes from the vault into the wider hallway, where they would be easier to access for loading when Wrecker returned.

The shrill screeching of an alarm made Hunter nearly drop one of the containers on his foot as he desperately tried to cover his sensitive ears. At the same time, the white luminescent lighting turned a deep, flashing red, leaving them in a confused, partial darkness. The monkey-lizards shrieked piercingly from across the lab, and blaster fire erupted from somewhere inside the villa.

“What is going on?” Dara demanded into her comm.

“Your boyfriend made it to the guard post and activated some sort of emergency protocol,” Crosshair snapped.

“It would appear that Prium does not distrust droids enough that he will not use them in extreme cases,” Tech panted. “I am clocking at least two dozen security droids that have just been activated throughout the villa.”

“Kriff,” Hunter muttered. He glanced at Dara with concern. In response, she unholstered her blaster.

“I’m fine. Put me where I’ll be useful.”

The Sergeant scowled. “Everyone, sitrep,” he demanded.

“Made it to the roof and loading up now,” Wrecker grunted.

“Took out six guards out front but the rest made it to cover and are working on breaching the entrance.”

“Tech and I are about to be surrounded. Our back is to the entrance and droids are converging on our location.”

Hunter mutter something incomprehensible under his breath that sounded suspiciously like a multilingual stream of curses. “Echo and Tech, I’m coming to you. Crosshair, cover Wrecker on the way back to the lab. Dara will stay in the lab and hide if any droids show up before they get here.” He punctuated his last order with a stern wag of his finger. Dara rolled her eyes and sighed, but nodded in agreement, and Hunter headed out to reinforce his brothers without another word.

***

Crosshair was antsy. Despite his often hair trigger temper, he did not get antsy. He was a sniper. He was patient. He was used to watching and waiting things out, finding the exact right moment to strike with deadly precision.

But he couldn’t deny, when Tech accused him earlier, that he had been carefully tracking Dara’s infrared signature as she moved through the villa, shifting back and forth a little with unease rather than settling into his characteristic stillness while on overwatch. And now that things had predictably gone to shit, he was even more agitated as he and Wrecker loaded box after box into the Marauder, eager to get back to the lab and get this all over with so that he could chew Hunter out for leaving a civilian alone while they were under attack. Even if the droids were centered around Tech and Echo. Even if they needed backup. He just didn’t like it—it was just like the jailbreak, only this time he didn’t have eyes on her.

Finally, they had loaded all the boxes and could return with the cart to the elevator. Crosshair checked over his rifle as they got inside, feeling marginally better now that they were on their way to the lab.

His irritation returned in full force with the crackle of his comm line.

“My scanners are showing six droids approaching the lab,” Tech warned. “The rest of us will not be able to reinforce.”

Crosshair swore. “Dara, hide. Wrecker and I will be there soon.”

They received no response. The brothers exchanged a look: though their faces were disguised by their helmets, long years of familiarity allowed them each to decipher the seriousness and determination behind it as they both tensed, preparing to fight the moment the elevator doors opened.

The sniper took the corridors toward the lab at a sprint, followed by Wrecker, who was still pushing the cart with one hand as he held his blaster with the other. He heard blaster shots ring out just as he rounded the corner approaching the lab; at the far end of the hallway he caught a glimpse of Dara, who was drawing the attention of the droids as she ran in the opposite direction. They pursued her, exchanging blasts with their quarry, who left two downed droids smoking in her wake.

“What are you doing?” Crosshair demanded over the comms.

“Keeping them distracted,” Dara panted. “Get the files!”

“You’re going to get yourself killed,” he growled.

More blasts rang out from elsewhere in the basement. “There’s only three left. Just hurry up before more come!”

Wrecker shrugged and entered the lab to start loading the remaining boxes. “I think she has it under control,” he determined.

Crosshair shook his head, but followed his lead and began to help, rushing the process as much as possible. When no boxes remained, Wrecker began to push the cart back in the direction of the elevator.

“I’ve got this,” he told his brother. “Go get her.”

Nodding, Crosshair headed down the hall in the direction she had been running. “Dara, I’m coming to you. What’s your location?” he demanded into his comm.

“Took the stairs to the top floor. Unfortunately, I may have found more droids.”

Crosshair yanked open the door to the stairwell and began making his way up, taking the steps two at a time. He passed a pile of crumpled mechanical remnants and was relieved that at least Dara had taken down more of her pursuers before accumulating new ones. “How many?”

“Five left.”

When the sniper reached the top floor and exited the stairwell, he immediately made his way toward the sound of blaster fire. In the next corridor over, Dara was backed into a dead end and was pinned down, using an overturned buffet table for cover. It looked expensive—or at least, it had before its polished wood surface became riddled with blaster burns.

Four droids now remained. Without hesitation, Crosshair reached into his belt for a handful of mirrored reflector discs, tossing them at carefully calculated angles against the walls. Propping his rifle up on the sniper rest which extended from his left pauldron, he fired; the bolt ricocheted, taking down every last droid before its energy dissipated.

Dara poked her head out above cover. “Nice shot.”

Crosshair took a few furious steps toward her, removing his helmet as he glanced over her. She didn’t appear to be injured.

“You were supposed to hide,” he snapped. He meant to continue his tirade, but was distracted by Dara’s eyes widening as she drew her blaster and aimed towards him. Suddenly, he felt the cold, metal end of a barrel in his back.

“I guess you aren’t really newlyweds,” came Nor Raab’s slimy, arrogant voice.

The sniper scowled, but didn’t move. “What a genius. You figured it out,” he snarked.

The scientist dug the blaster in harder, but he ignored the sharp pain that wedged its way between the gaps in his armor. “Drop your weapons,” Raab ordered.

Crosshair let his rifle go with a clatter. Down the hall, Dara bent cautiously and placed her pistol on the floor.

“Listen, there’s no need for anybody to get hurt here,” she began carefully as she stood back up.

Raab snorted. “I don’t exactly think that you are in a position to negotiate.”

Dara did not argue. Instead, she slowly raised her hands and placed them behind her head, the picture of surrender—if it were not for the meaningful eye contact she made with Crosshair, alongside giving him the tiniest nod.

The sniper was prepared for the moment she snaked one hand beneath her poncho to grab her hold-out blaster, throwing himself aside just as the stun blast shot through the air and caught Raab in the chest.

Dara toed the Sullustan’s crumpled form out of the way a little more harshly than necessary as she approached. “Creep,” she muttered. She held an outstretched hand to help Crosshair up. “Consider us even.”

Crosshair scowled. “Hardly. I could have gotten out of that. Plus, I saved you from the droids, so I’m still one up on you.”

She rolled her eyes and handed him his rifle. “And I could have gotten out of that.”

“In that case, you still owe me one,” he countered smugly.

Sighing, Dara ignored him in favor of checking in with the others. “Anybody need help out there?” she asked into her comm.

“Negative,” Hunter reported. “All clear, heading to the Marauder.”

“Almost loaded up,” Wrecker added.

“Alright. Meet you there.”

The whole squad was reunited on the ship in due course. Dara leaned tiredly into the cockpit as Tech and Echo hurried through preflight checks.

“Sorry, Tech,” she lamented. “I dropped my pack while the droids were after me and the chemical we found fell out. It got smashed.”

The pilot glanced at her over his shoulder as they began lifting off. “No matter. If it was an experimental drug as I suspect, I doubt Cid’s client was aware of it. We will still be paid in full for this job. You did exceptional work today, Dara.” She gave him a fond smile in thanks for the praise and returned to the main cabin.

Wrecker and Hunter were occupied in giving the haphazard piles of file boxes some semblance of order, while Crosshair had already begun disassembling and cleaning his rifle. Dara set about preparing her tea, taking her first taste with a sigh that was simultaneously weary and relieved. Then she reached back into her pack and pulled out several balls of thick, fibrous cord, beginning to weave and knot the strands idly between appreciative sips. Her fingers danced expertly, an elaborate band steadily taking shape between her hands.

Crosshair watched as his own hands occupied themselves with polishing, raising an eyebrow at her. “More hobbies, burk’yc?”

Her fingers stilled for a moment and she held the object up to him, displaying it for his inspection, before returning to work. “You could say that. It’s a traditional handicraft I picked up doing fieldwork in the Pelker system. I sell them to vendors and antique shops for extra credits sometimes. They probably overcharge people who think it’s the real deal.” She shrugged.

The sniper looked back down at his rifle, brow furrowed. There it was—an explanation for Dara’s regular visits to Old Ord Salvage. Perhaps she wasn’t there for the smuggler’s communications array at all, but the front business itself. It was an easy explanation, just like all those she had provided thus far, the pieces of her life falling into place just well enough to be plausible.

But never quite well enough to satisfy him.

He leveled his gaze at her again. “You’re just full of surprises, aren’t you?”

Though she didn’t look up at him again, Crosshair didn’t miss the barest hint of a knowing smirk that she was, perhaps, too tired—or too smug—to fully hide from him.

Next chapter

Tag list: @stardusthuntress @skellymom @megmegalodondon @somewhere-on-kamino

[dukeoftheblackstar]

Somewhere Only We Know

Summary: Plo Koon has an old book called ‘The Galactic Family; A Collection of Beautiful Faces’ that features numerous species blessed with physicalities. Reader/OC is born of the planet called Celestia which is inhabited by ethereal sight for sore-eyes. While they feature and exalt you as an upper echelon of beauty and grace, you vehemently plot against the author who Plo had once confided in you as someone who seems to have captivated his heart — a bully who had taunted him and riled others to make fun of Kel Dors and Plo as a youngling. You kept your friendship with Plo and though your heart bleeds for him, as it beats only for him, you decide to yet again express your desire to act in spite and avenge your most favorite Kel Dor in the galaxy. Only to be reminded of something else.

Pairing: Plo Koon / OC/Reader (idk how this works — sorry!)

Word Count: 3.6k

Rating: (no smut) Maybe sad-turned-happy vibes? Idk

Notes: - Peaching (headcanon) is a form of encouraged relations by the people and law of Celestia that allows you to be in a consensual 'exchange' with no attachment. Essentially, a gatepass to fuck, be intimate with, be flirty with, be touchy with, or be with someone bound or unbound given that all parties are in agreement and consents. (will get detailed on this if I ever decide to dish out wips from ancient time) - Chrysanthemums are my most favorite flower ♥ A yellow chrysanthemum blossom signifies neglected love or sorrow. A white chrysanthemum is a symbol of loyalty and devoted love. - OC/Reader is a bounty hunter with natborn silver irises and is an unhinged bitch who is overprotective of Plo Koon and will fight everyone for him. (It's me, really. I'm just wildin') - OC/Reader Reference Image https://www.instagram.com/p/CfJ891cJVpG/

Color thingies because I'm deranged to not use them: Orange: Plo Koon Pink: You/OC/Reader Blue: Memory Purple: Me, because I have no self-control to self-insert myself whenever Plo and Kel Dors are mentioned. I'm sorry >:

Perfect divider by @idontgetanysleep with itty, bitty, cutie-patootie Plo Koon face ♥

“Just say the word, P. It’s on the house.”

You didn’t really need his permission let alone reveal any involvement should you decide to act on ‘it’. You’ve had her as a client before and the transaction wasn’t as pretty as her face — it was vile, filthy, and a cheapshot at an innocent target who happens to share attention from a prospective boyfriend. Yes, a prospective boyfriend who clearly has no intention of breaking off an engagement with the poor, unfortunate soul, you have removed from a certain narrative.

A sickening chronicle in ‘her’ life as if her claim takes precedence over anything factual. Hadn’t you been in such a rut with bounties, you would’ve never taken the job. But you did and it kept food on the table, a nice roof on your head for a short while, and got a beaut of a decent ship to cruise around in. 

It’s never honest work, the killing part; but it's honest enough to be on paper and get you lined up with a few more bounties to get by. A couple of tracking fobs in turn of a good night’s sleep, a proper soak, and a treat to buy essentials and non-essentials. Essentials being food, fuel, repair and maintenance, pieces to fortify the little armor you have on because clearly, you need to flaunt to flex — that, and the fact that Celestians are vain by nature. Considering you age similar to Kel Dors, if you ain’t keeping that pretty face and body on point, you might as well off yourself for being a disgraced child of Celestia.

As for non-essentials that border the essentials category, an assortment of powdered fruit tea from your recent trip to Dorin. 

Plo would chuckle, always that — never to confirm, never to deny, always enigmatic over the idea of vengeance. Though it may be an obvious answer with him being a Master Jedi and a Baran Do Sage, valuing life and shit, you couldn’t help but wonder if it’s because he truly still admires her and the memory of feeling ‘it’ for the first time is so strong that it has indeed withstood the test of time. It was either that or he’s in one of those moods where he’s psycho-bullshitting you to reflect and turn to the light — what an absolute devout to the force Plo Koon is, aka force-dweeb ; i.e whore only to the force.

Awestruck if that was the case but also a very disheartening concept. Then again, who were you talk? Wasn’t it your own volition to always tag along and linger in sparring fields and dojos while father met with the Jedis, handing vital information privy only to the Republic? Wasn’t it in your own accord to walk up to this rust-toned sentient because you had that undying need to pull on his mask and kiss him? Maybe not kiss him yet at time, but you’re quite the unhinged individual who would happily die to quelch the inquisitions in your head and kissing was a Celestian tradition to mark. All’s fair, right?

You just wanted to touch him, his face — eyes that had those black ‘thingies’ that made you wonder what color his irises were while the burgeoning need to unmask the lower chamber of his face grew with each passing second; more so when he started to speak.

Not much has actually changed apart from him — now a towering old man with more grace, reverence, importance, patience, strength, and other things that you’d like to unravel. Dirty as that sounds, who can blame you? 

Have you seen the build on his chest and shoulders? Have you not heard the thunderous rumble of his godly voice that makes you want to drop on your knees and worship that impeccable form of his? — That makes you want to shamelessly surrender to the domineering, magnetic, regal of an enchantment that has imprisoned your heart, mind, and soul to be his devout little bitch? 

Have you not, even for a second, want to burn through the fiery embers of his soul and lose yourself into the intoxicating dream of sifting through the intricacies of his intelligence and wisdom? To drown in answers and queries that would have you begging like a desperate whore to tell you more? More of that three-hundred year-old archive of knowledge that just swims in his head so invitingly like the cold lakes of home on a hot summer day? Have you not, even for a second, thirsted to the enigma that is Plo Koon and his privacy? Have you not sinfully starved for someone’s coc—-

“Tea?”

He could read your mind and throw you out; dismiss or reprimand you for being such an obvious simp for him, but he doesn’t — doesn’t always at least. Doesn’t invade your thoughts unless it’s one of those days when you were so rattled from a hunt that you didn’t even know how you ended up at his place; why you, a clean-freak, has yet to wash the blood over skin so smooth you whine over the tiniest of scratches and smudge.

“I can sense the evident thirst “be” at peak today, dearest.”

Did I mention that though he does not invade your thoughts without necessity, he’s also a little shit Kel Dor prick? That he’s the humblest of all humbles but has a side to him that makes you want to strangle him in his sleep and ride his brains back to when he’s an itty, bitty, egg and make omelet for breakfast? 

“Yes, babylove. The thirst ‘be’ insanely high today. I mean, did I ever tell you how kriffin’ hot you look in those Jedi robes? I mean the browns and the beige just screams BDE!!! I could just.. Unf.”

You bit your lip to taunt, whether it was to set the familiar banter at play from a mere satirical retort or a guise because ‘he really do be looking fine in them robes’, it’ll be one of the many unspoken understanding and mystery that the two of you seem to dodge.

“BDE? I’m not certain I’ve heard of that before.”

“Big Dorin Energy.” Came your reply — one as abrupt as you had brought the cup to drink so painstakingly slow in hopes of boring him enough to move on.

“Mm.”

“What?” 

Did I also tell you how oppressive Plo Koon’s silent treatment can be? No, well okay. It is.

“Whaaaat?”

“...”

Not a crease on his brow area, neither a shift from his demeanor came about apart from him attaching a metallic, contractible straw to his mask with a soft click before taking a sip from his cup. 

“Ugh. Fine. It’s Big Dick Energy, okay? Are you happy? You’re such an old man, Plo.” 

You always say this and without fail, it drives you so far up the wall you’d be at the same level as Plo — or taller. And as much as it elicits illicit thoughts, seeing yourself more drawn to finely seasoned men, Plo always gave the same response. The same ‘Indeed I am” that teeters between melancholy, amusement and pride. 

Stars, he’s so kriffin’ cute.

“Very much so, my dear. The quest for knowledge never ceases.”

Cute and a disgustingly adorable dweeb. I love him so much and I’m sure you do too.

After a couple more exchange of pleasantries, you’ve found yourself rambling on about the strife of a recent hunt where you’ve procured a bad sprain that had somewhat permanently altered your balance. How you nearly fell off after a grapple-pull mishap because of a calculated step that failed due to said injury. 

You went on about how it cut the payment since you weren’t able to deliver the target on time. He’d have asked a million questions too that riled you up to the point of completely forgetting your purpose of visit — your constant ‘let it be me’ visit that never seems to progress because of that stupid book tucked under his stupid bed that this stupid bitch gave him some stupid centuries ago. 

“All you have to say is leave her alone, Plo. And I will.” 

You cut the story short and as much as you’d expect him to be surprised that you had caught on, he wasn’t. He knew you would break free from the trance of having someone so keenly interested in your non-Jedi approved activities; namely bounty hunting and escapades — you do this thing where you commit theft for a hot minute and leave payment with a little extra at the most  obvious place they wouldn’t look until they’ve simmered down to notice a note you’ve left. Funny that he doesn’t scold you for this but tells tales of how Dorin will treat this behavior differently. You can tell he loves a bit of mischief as long as you return to the proper action — then again, this petty theft of a mischievous act is punishable by death in Kel Dor standards; so maybe, no?

“Celestians are on page 9.” 

Vanity betrays you by blood and nature. You wanted to smack him for saying that but you also want to smack (smooch) him for saying that. It’s not like you didn’t have a copy of the infamous book, but it’s so badly worn from testing a plethora of melee weapons on it, the numerous holes and soot makes any of the text unreadable and the photos indiscernible. You had copies of it too, memorized the entire book looking for any praise for Kel Dors and found not a single word of mention even. 

The Galactic Family; A Collection of Beautiful Faces — in which enumerates and highlights a selection of upper echelon species that included yours in the most exalted tier. Your kind were the most ethereal species on the planet; silver irises, short fangs that elongate during ‘peaching and mating seasons’, skin deathly pale, smooth, and soft; blood translucent and voices a potent concoction of sweet, sultry, and heavenly with that right dabble of filth.

[ Art / Comic by @exosorcery ♥ ]

You hated that book. Abhorred it to an unhealthy extent that you were but a push away from writing your own book and raining hell on her specifically, but you know within yourself that Celestians are not allowed to interfere — which is essentially why, though you do not need his permission and can actually act upon it deny involvement with a help of the top bounty hunter in the galaxy who you’d happen to be in the good graces of, it just didn’t seem right. You know in your hearts of hearts that Plo will be very disappointed and quiet about it.

[ Art / Comic by @exosorcery ♥ ]

“I know. My brother and I are in it. He had said yes before consulting me and it was too late for me to back out when I knew who wrote it. Did you ask because you know I’d never dare "read" that shit?”

[ Art / Comic by @exosorcery ♥ ]

“I asked because you have something of mine.” 

“Of yours?”

And it was indeed some Jedi mind trick because of the centuries and numerous copies you’ve annihilated "without ever once reading" the contents of that book, there you sat frivolously sifting through pages and scanning the photo of yourself with a crystalized necklace of a white moth.

Your hand instinctively went to your chest, cupping the pendant that had kept your heart steady and your mind clear since the day you decided to hunt that stupid moth that landed on his stupid face while he was meditating.

I walked across an empty land I knew the pathway like the back of my hand

A sense of warmth engulfs you in that moment of recollection; how he had blamed you for scaring the moth away after his master did the same prior. How his little balled up fists were on his side and the creases of his face were so drawn down that you laughed so hard you fell back clutching your stomach. How you saw him ‘frown’ behind his masked face and turned quietly to walk away.

I felt the earth beneath my feet

[ Art by @veny-many ♥ ]

How in that moment you swore nothing would ever matter more than for his stupid face to never ever crease into that stupid frown. How in that moment, his little ‘Please don’t do that — it really hurts,” made you need nothing or no one else than this beautiful sentient before you who chose to meditate alone because the other shit-pricks were making fun of how he looks.

I came across a fallen tree

You recall how you didn’t even apologize. How you ran up to him and put on that equally stupid face you do with father when you didn’t want him to leave so you could play with him or have him take you to some off-world planet to pick and study flowers to tend to your insatiable need need to adorn your room with so many flower crowns it’s become hazardous in itself. 

And before you could say anything, before you could rip off that stupid page in that stupid book that has your stupid face and that stupid pendant that you’ve worn for centuries as you both kept by each other’s side and comfort, something heavy weighs on the page.

I felt the branches of it looking at me

A chrysanthemum pair — entwined of one yellow and one white; withered, but you know it to be so. You know not only by heart and by the memory of you breaking the knots of your self-made flower crown that adorned your pretty little presence on that fateful day, having to vehemently rummage and pull from the assortment to find the ‘perfect’ one for the stupid frown on his stupid face.

Is this the place we used to love?

You know not only by the nostalgic drop of flowers between your silver irises that pooled at the thought of hurting the stupid-faced sad boy meditating by his lonesome and the young Kel Dor that had his fists balled ready to push or strike — to alleviate himself of any pain and hurt that deeply wounded him that day but chose not to. 

Your brothers did that — pushed and yelled out of irritation, shoved you a little too hard sometimes but eventually came around. But Plo didn’t — he didn’t yell or push you, didn’t run off or threaten you, didn’t even do anything but ask so politely; asked so kindly as if he would break into as many as the stars above and it frightened you. 

To be young and alone, to be so far from home, to be so far from mother and father and even your siblings; to having to go back inside a place you could hardly call ‘home’. To do nothing but train, clean, meditate, and study; to not be able to play with people of your kind, to not be able to run to father or mother when you’ve tripped and get tight hugs and forehead kisses; to not be able to snuggle up and build forts with silly brothers, steal snacks from the kitchen and tell tales of horrific stories and gossip until you all fall asleep, only to wake up between mother and father.

It frightened you so much that you felt ‘it’. Whatever ‘it’ was, you felt it. You felt ‘it’ radiate from him in such an alarming wave that it had rendered you speechless with hands quivering between two stupid chrysanthemum flowers pulled from your crown of glory. It frightened you that something had made you frantically drop to your knees and fuss about which color, which flower to give him as if the thread of the galaxy’s hold would break if you didn’t do ‘it’ right — whatever ‘it’ was.

The grip on the pendant tightens and you could feel your jaw clench only before you were made aware of the tears that had betrayed you for quite a while now. The taste of horrid saline that had taken a detour from your cheeks and down to your lips; a grim reminder that you have yet again bore yourself to Plo when you've promised countless times never to do so. 

Is this the place that I've been dreaming of?

Jedi kriffing mindtrick. 

And if you have a minute, why don't we go Talk about it somewhere only we know?

Part of you wanted him to look, maybe lean over and brush the tears off your cheeks; to take that stupid mask off for a brief second and kiss you just as how you had hoped for when you first saw him. But you know he couldn’t —for so many goddamn reasons. And it’s okay, it really is. He could press his mask on your cheek though, right? Right? Right, Plo?

“Big dick energy indeed, you prick.”

Your voice broke and so did you face as you shamelessly sobbed onto palms that only did very little to hide everything; the sniffles, the whimpers, the brewing gasps of air as you tried your best to stifle it all at once. But of course you fail massively, it was not even an option to begin with. He carried so much power and reverence that if he had decided to open that hidden script between just the two of you, you’ll crumble so far into the depths of all these repressed dreams and emotions that you'd drag him with you. 

This could be the end of everything

And so it remains just that; a hidden script in the narrative that is you and Plo Koon. The same script that loomed when drinks were shared, stories laughed over, and tears shed over just about anything. The same hidden script that will always thicken the air with the purest form of love — if he would allow ‘it’ to be called just that. 

But even that would remain as enigmatic as Plo Koon — and so it shall be as it always has been; a hidden script that is you and Plo Koon; the narrative that has spanned centuries and will weave more.

He would only turn his back to you, remorsefully. Give you privacy and company at the same time like the stupid conundrum that he is; leave if you want me to cry in peace, you’d think to yourself — but stay so I can.

So, why don't we go somewhere only we know?

Tears drip past the barrier of your palms and onto the page that kept the withered pair as if it would somehow unearth the once vibrant colors that bridged the paleness of your small hand with his rust-toned talons many centuries ago. That somehow it would caress your bleeding heart with the memory of his stupid smile plastered on his stupid face when he said “It’s okay. There’s more moths here, come on.”

[ Art by @veny-many ♥ ] {any excuse to use these baby Kel Dors kids}

Sat by the river and it made me complete Oh, simple thing, where have you gone? I'm getting old, and I need something to rely on So, tell me when you're gonna let me in

That somehow these insignificant droplets would relive the careful touch of his clawed hand over your soft, small palm as he dragged you past the bushes he hid behind and into this expanse of a lake full of fireflies and moths and flowers and fishes and him, and his smile, and his touch, and his face, and his warmth, and his presence, and his —.

“Do you understand now?”

Somewhere only we know

Drenched palms erratically ran through evenly drenched cheeks to dry them off. Eyes puffed and nose a shy tone of red as you continued to sniffle and curse inwardly as to why he still hasn’t offered you a box of tissues. But it’s there though, the box of tissues — so very close to your side of the table when it usually is at the center. 

What a babe, right? Inconspicuous babe and his inconspicuous gentlemanly ways.

You took a few pulls and gently dabbed your face. Took another few more pulls and before you could dab them onto the page that held the embodiment of your love, loyalty, friendship, and promise of forever, you heard him cut you before you were even half-way down.

“Don’t.” 

I'm getting old, and I need something to rely on

You turn to look at him, watching him ease back into a reclined manner — his face still in the direction of the empty space before him; but you know. You know that at the corners of those black ‘thingies’ over his eyes are those beautiful silver irises that matched yours. You know that in the tenderness of his voice would be the same yearning that not a single word would ever be enough to describe. That in the manner of which his shoulder would sag and his head would meet the rest of his couch that ‘it’ is here; that ‘it’ is here with you. That ‘it’ is neither about the book or anything else; that ‘it’ is but here, anywhere, everywhere with you.

That ‘it’ is the fact that you have something of his and he has something of yours. That ‘it’ has always been the same ‘it’ from the day that you broke his tiny, young heart and mended it so swiftly and gently that ‘it’ has stayed with him over centuries as so did ‘it’ with you.

That ‘it’ is indeed what you think it is if you’ve gotten this far. That ‘it’ is indeed ‘home’ — a place that only you and him knows. 

“You’re such a sappy old man, Plo. I’ll see you again soon, okay?” 

You say, closing the book and carefully resting it on the caf table. You grunt and sniffle, groaning as you stretched and tapped your ankles together as if to activate the thrusters and wait for command. By the window, your usual preference of entry, you took a deep breath and ran fingers delicate over your bare crown down to the length of your hair. 

This could be the end of everything

“In the meantime, please allow me to use this as a reason to extract you from your duties, my sweet. Your company is always appreciated.” 

Plo collects the book almost protectively and sets it on his lap, palming the cover as he finally turns to address your departure. 

So, why don't we go somewhere only we know?

“Kriffin’ dweeb. Just say I love you next time. Easier on the tongue.”

And as you take your flight, you hear him among the blanketed skies, just when you’re far enough and too lazy to turn, you hear him, 

Somewhere only we know

“Only if you say it first.”

Somewhere only we know

~ Fin.

If you made it this far, thank you and I love you. I hope reading this isn't time wasted. Also, drink some water and remember how valued you are and how nothing will be as magnificent as they are if you weren't here. ♥

~ Duch ♥

[enigmaticexplorer]

I Yearn, and so I Fear - A Muse IV

Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

General Summary. Nearly a year since the Galactic Empire’s rise to power, Kazi Ennari is trying to survive. But her routine is interrupted—and life upended—when she’s forced to cohabitate with former Imperial soldiers. Clone soldiers. 

Pairing. Commander Wolffe x female!OC

General Warnings. Canon-typical violence and assault, familial struggles, terminal disease, bigotry, explicit sexual content, death. This story deals with heavy content. If you’re easily triggered, please do not read. For a more comprehensive list of tags, click here.

Fic Rating. E (explicit)/18+/Minors DNI.

A Like without a Reblog will result in an automatic block.

1 Relona

The War changed Fox.

As a kid, he’d been mischievous. Daring.

Back then, it had been him, Wolffe, and Cody. Together, they caused some trouble. ‘Course Cod’ika always escaped punishment: he was clever enough to avoid being caught.

Fox and Wolffe were a different story.

They didn’t try to get caught. Neither of them liked being disciplined—scrubbing toilets with a toothbrush was hard on the back. And they didn’t like pissing off Alpha. Or disappointing him.

But they didn’t try too hard to avoid it.

Their most daring “quests”—stealing a fancy chocolate cake from the Kaminoan kitchens, sneaking into the blaster range, slicing into Kaminoan technology to learn more about the galaxy—were an adrenaline rush. Fox enjoyed the thrill of sneaking behind the long-necks backs, and the admiration from the other boys fueled him.

While Wolffe was his partner in crime, Fox learned quickly that his vod was easy to taunt. Cody managed his emotions too well. He wasn’t worth the effort to tease and jab. But Wolffe guaranteed a reaction. Every time.  

They got into lots of fights over the years. Good fights. The kind that allowed them to bloody each other up, release their frustrations, and then share a stolen beer from Alpha’s stash that same night.

It took some years, and maturing, for Fox to realize Wolffe wasn’t easily riled. His vod was helping him. And Wolffe did it without complaint or hesitation.

That didn’t mean they always agreed with one another. Their fight on Coruscant was proof of that.

Reassuring himself of the blaster strapped to his thigh, Fox looked up from the story he was writing. The blue waves of hyperspace lit the interior of the shuttle. Wolffe and Cody sat in the pilot and co-pilot chairs, playing a card game. Nova was back on Eluca.

Another mission and Wolffe had joined them. The thought pissed him off enough, Fox snapped his book shut.

“Say, Cod’ika,” he drawled. Cody looked up from the deck in his hand, his eyes narrowed. Oh yeah, Cody knew he was about to cause some shit. He winked. “How long do you think Kazi will put up with Wolffe, old boy?”

Wolffe tossed a card atop the pile and leaned back in his seat, ignoring Fox. He appeared apathetic, unaffected. Except for the slightest flex in his fingers. A tell Fox noticed with ease.

“Could’ve sworn he said he’d make time for her,” Fox continued. Cody shook his head in exasperation, but Fox kept his attention on his other vod. The one whose shoulders were tensing. “ ‘Cept he’s here. Breaking into another shuttle. Rescuing some men he doesn’t know.”

Cody studied the cards on the table, set one of his own down, and then scrutinized Fox. “You think they don’t deserve a chance?”

“It comes down to us versus them?” Fox shrugged. “I’d choose you assholes. Every time.”

The War had changed him.

He’d lost enthusiasm for the missions.

He’d lost interest in honor.

He’d stopped caring. Only three people mattered to him, and he’d fuck over the galaxy to get them what they deserved.

But his vode were too ignorant of the lives they could have. Too focused on guilt and duty. And each day that passed—each fucking mission they ran—Fox grew more impatient.

“I’ve thought about some stories to tell Kazi,” Fox said. Wolffe drummed his fingers on the co-pilot’s chair’s arm, his expression even. “I thought the holofilm—”

Wolffe’s head snapped in his direction. Antipathy sharpened the scar down his cheek.

Good, Fox thought. He wanted Wolffe pissed. He wanted his vod to get it through his thick fucking skull that it was time to let the guilt go.

They glared at one another, and yeah, Fox knew he was being a bastard bringing up that old ‘film. But he didn’t care. He knew what Wolffe wanted—what he’d always wanted.

It was something Fox hadn’t understood. He’d never experienced those feelings or inclinations. For some time, he’d thought something must have broken in his tube. All he’d ever known was love for his vode. Nothing more; nothing less. Eventually, he came to realize he was different. But he didn’t envy his vode for the romantic desires they felt. The restrained longing he’d seen in Wolffe had convinced him he was better off.  

Throughout the War, Wolffe had kept his hookups private and short-lived, and toward the end, he’d stopped altogether. It hadn’t surprised Fox. One drunken night two years in confirmed his suspicions. The desolation in Wolffe’s eyes had gutted him.

Now, ire scored deep lines across his vod’s features.

“Kazi’s already hesitant about things between us,” Wolffe hissed. The cards in his hand groaned beneath his grip. “Fuck with her, Fox’ika, and you’ll ruin the progress I’ve made. Stay the fuck out of it.”

The spasm of unease in Wolffe’s eyes made Fox grimace. He didn’t have time to shove aside his guilt, though, because his vod turned his glare on Cody.

“You do anything to Daria,” Wolffe said, “and we’re gonna have a problem.”

Ah, shit.

It’d been years since Wolffe and Cody got into it. They’d been cadets: Wolffe had found a sketch Cody had drawn. He teased him about it. Cody grew upset. They fought. Alpha made them spend the rest of the day cleaning the underside of the tables in the mess hall.

Cody threw Wolffe a bored look. “It’s none of your business.”

A muscle ticked in Wolffe's jaw. “Like hell it isn’t.”

“I’m not going to fuck her over.” At Wolffe's belligerent silence, Cody sighed. “We…have an understanding.”

A derisive snort fell from Wolffe, and he ran his tongue along his teeth. Agitation bunched in the muscles along his biceps as he crossed his arms over his chest. He levelled a scowl on Fox. “Don’t ruin this for me.”

“Stop the missions,” Fox said.

Both Wolffe and Cody rolled their eyes; they returned to their game, Cody dealing. Fox ignored his vod’s sleight of hand. Wolffe had already cheated and won, anyway.

Instead, he dropped his gaze to the book in his hands, working his jaw. The four of them had argued about the missions for months: Cody remained dedicated to the cause, and whatever Cody did, Nova did, too.

Months ago, Wolffe had similarly dedicated himself to the missions. However, matters on Eluca were splitting his time and attention. All Fox needed was to divert all of Wolffe’s attention to Eluca. Then he would have an ally against Cody’s obsession.

Opening the book, Fox skimmed the story he’d written: a recount from Nova about Cody’s fistfight with Grievous. Similar stories—bold encounters with the enemy, heroic sacrifices of the fallen, brave missions that changed the course of a battle—lined the wrinkled pages. It was proof: that his vode, that the men under his command, that millions of clones had fought for the Republic. Had lived.

The book preserved those stories, and memorialized those who had died. Because those men deserved to have their stories told. Remembered.

Not him, though. Never him.

Thumbing through the pages, realizing he’d need a new book soon, Fox looked through the first few stories.

Loss.

Sacrifice.

Death.

So many soldiers gone. So many men.

With a heavy sigh, Fox closed the book. He’d grown tired of losing men. Tired of losing men he considered his vode. All he could do was ensure Wolffe, Cody, and Nova got the lives they deserved.

And once they were safe and happy, then he’d spend the rest of his miserable existence atoning for it all.

Masterlist | Chapter 18 | Chapter 19

[lilmissnatcat24]

WIP Wednesday

why thank you for the tag m'love @milkywayes!!! ya girl has been writing like a bandit lately so please enjoy a bit of the snippet i wrote yesterday (spoilers for turn left)

It was oddly peaceful, dying. There was the whole pain part and the whole paralyzed part and the whole I’m-so-scared-I-can’t-tell-if-it’s-blood-or-piss part, but when you factor all of that out, there was a sort of melancholy peace to finally being able to die. It was like the bittersweet end to a vid or a book where you can’t tell if they were happy tears or sad. Tears were just tears, and no matter their purpose they were still being shed. And Shepard was strangely okay with dying. That was, if she didn’t think too hard about Garrus or Elyria or the impending end to the galaxy that only she could stop or Liara or Garrus or Wrex or Garrus or Anderson or Garrus fucking Vakarian and those lips she never realized she wanted to kiss so badly until right now--  She shut her eyes. It was about the only part of her body that she had control over. That, or she stopped trying entirely. And she waited to drift off into what she imagined to be an eternal sleep, one where she wouldn’t have to wake up for anything, one where she could finally be at peace for once in her goddamned life.  She heard some sort of crashing sound. She didn’t care. Remember, her eyes were closed. She wasn’t going to open them, not for anything, even if that clawing sensation had gone away--  “Shepard!” Her eyes flung open at Garrus’s voice, pleading and rough and urgent. The feeling was starting to flood back in her body as she craned her neck towards him. He had kicked her door off its hinges, rifle in hand, his eyes wider than coins as he mowed down those zombie creatures like they were nothing. The loud bursts from the barrel of his rifle set her teeth on edge. She groaned as she tried to raise a hand-- to do what? Fight? Shoot? Hold his hand in hers? She didn’t know, but now that the feeling was flooding back, she had to try.  “G- G--” she attempted to speak, but her jaw was still welded shut.  The way Garrus fought was almost a dance. He was impossibly light on his feet for being seven foot tall and had an extra three hundred pounds on her. When a zombie got close, he would smash the butt of his rifle onto their head as they collapsed at his feet. He was so quick with reloading that she barely even saw him reach for more heat sinks. And he did it all while barely taking his eyes off of her.  She flexed her toes, she slowly dug her palms into the bed to hoist herself up further. “What--?”  The last zombie went down with a spectacular screech. Garrus was at his knees next to her so fast she swore he just teleported. His hands roamed up and down her body, searching for the wounds and slash marks that he would have to fix up, his mandibles plastered to his face in concern.  “Del, what the hell happened?” Garrus asked, a tone of worry that Shepard didn’t know he possessed. Gone was all of the anger she felt towards him for lying, gone was the betrayal. There was no one she would rather be at her side than Garrus Vakarian. She buried her head into the groove between his shoulder and carapace. She could feel his subvocals vibrating in his chest. He seemed to freeze for a moment, before a hand settled in her hair, petting it down soothingly. “There, there. You’re okay. I’m here.”

uhhhh i never know who to tag so please ignore this if you don't want to do it but here ya go!!!! @otemporanerys @dulcidyne @diaphanouso @dispatchwithlove @teamdilf @vakariansvixen

[vvynia]

galaxy and parchment 🫶

galaxy: what fascinates you?

oooo this is interesting. lately, as simple as it may seem, the human body has been greatly fascinating me. i’ve been finding myself just staring at my hands, flexing them, inspecting my fingerprints, and tracing the lines and ridges of my palms. human uniqueness is practically limitless and, although some of us may lookalike even without sharing genetics, no two of us look exactly the same (except in the case of twins, but that just inspires even more intrigue in me). we’re pretty cool despite how deranged some of us are !!

parchment: favorite book?

if you would’ve asked me this in middle school, the immediate answer would’ve been the mortal instruments 😂 but its been years since i’ve read that series and grown me is sideyeing the psuedo-incest subplot. and i haven’t been reading a lot since eighth grade, sadly, so i’ll just share the last book i read: crier’s war by nina varela. i give it a solid 3.75 out of 5. i loved it but i wanted to see more of crier and ayla’s development (it felt rushed and not rushed at the same time bc i know there were interactions between them behind the scenes but i should have been there for said scenes!) and there were times where i was like “now how are they gonna do that” and i lowkey wasn’t answered 😭

[dk-thrive]

It is one of those random memories of parental love and kindness that causes your heart to flex in your chest all these years later, a moment that you know will very likely be somewhere amongst your last thoughts

Some kid had just scored big, I remember thinking. When mum came out of the shop, she handed us the models. We hadn’t even asked for them. We didn’t have a lot of money and these were expensive gifts for us, the kind of thing usually reserved for birthdays or Christmas. I asked her why she had bought them for us. ‘Because you were being good boys and hadn’t asked for anything.’ I see Gary still, hugging mum in gratitude, his arms wrapped around her legs in the sunshine on Caldon Road, his head nestling into her hip. It is one of those random memories of parental love and kindness that causes your heart to flex in your chest all these years later, a moment that you know will very likely be somewhere amongst your last thoughts. Is it somewhere amongst his now? Are there any thoughts left? Or are they all leaving him, swirling like a galaxy of stars circling a black hole and then vanishing, the memories of a lifetime crackling like the screen of an old television set, pinprick pixels disappearing into a white spot in the centre, then slowly fading away to nothing? Have they already left?

― John Niven, O Brother (Canongate Books, August 24, 2023)

[decaffeinatednightmarefire]

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[lunarsquish]

SUNSET STEW

One shot for my D&D character.

*

Sunset Stew

Astra walked into the bustling marketplace of Lyra Prime, her cobalt eyes scanning the various stalls for today's freshest ingredients. She had a certain affinity for cooking, stemming from a tradition passed down through generations in her family. The scent of spices and unique alien produce filled her nostrils, a comforting familiarity in the midst of the cold, metallic city.

Astra navigated the crowd expertly, a streak of silver and black darting between groups of local shoppers and pilgrims from distant stars. They all had come to witness the city's famous Sunset Market – where traders from across the universe could sell their wares under the glow of Lyra's sun.

As she approached her favorite vendor, an old Lyrian named Norgal, Astra flexed her gauntlet-clad hand. The machine whirred and shifted as it responded to her movements. Norgal had an affinity for technology, and he was always eager to inspect it.

"Norgal," she greeted warmly, offering him a smile that reached up to her vibrant eyes.

"Ah, Astra!" The jolly old man beamed at her arrival. "What can I get you today? The Harvest fruits are fresh tonight!"

"I'm planning on making some Sunstew,” she said, referencing a traditional dish from Lyra Prime. “Got any ripe Connoley pears?"

He nodded and pulled out a crate from under his stall filled with the deep violet fruits.

"Ah, prime pickings today, Astra." Norgal's wrinkled hands deftly sorted through the crate, selecting the ripest Connoley pears. "These will go wonderfully in your stew."

Astra nodded in satisfaction, extending her gauntlet to retrieve the fruits. The smooth metal fingers closed gently around the fragile product with the precision only a masterfully designed machine could manage. Norgal watched in fascination as Astra paid him with a few silver coins from her pouch.

With her purchase complete, Astra turned her attention to the next stall. It was a small stand filled with vibrant and rare spices gathered from across the cosmos. The vendor, an interstellar merchant named Erania with eyes like galaxies, greeted her warmly.

"Astra! Always a pleasure. Are you after the usual?" she asked, already reaching for an assortment of powders held in tiny glass vials.

"The very same, Erania," Astra confirmed with a nod. Erania's smile was radiant as she handed over the carefully packed bag of spices.

"Give my regards to your brother, would you?"

“Want me to thrown in a date with him as well?” Astra teased, smirking at Erania. Erania blushed a deep shade of crimson.

"You will do no such thing!" she retorted, frantically arranging the spice vials back into their display. Astra laughed as she handed over the payment, the sound echoing softly through the noisy marketplace. With her ingredients gathered, She bid Erania a playful goodbye and made her way through the labyrinthine market. Astra passed by a stall selling rare artifacts from distant galaxies that she had only read about in her archaeology books. Her hand hovered briefly over an ancient Astrolith tablet; but with a sigh, she pulled away. She needed to stick to her budget today.

A sudden commotion ahead caught her attention. A group of local kids were engaged in what seemed like a heated argument over a game of space chess. Astra's eyes twinkled with amusement as she recognized the stubborn figure at the center of the huddle – it was Toren, the 10-year-old boy she used to babysit years ago.

"Chess again, Toren?" she called out, walking over with a smile playing on her lips. The boy looked up and grinned at her.

"Astra! Show them I'm right! The Rook can move diagonally in zero gravity!"

Astra shook her head but couldn't suppress her laughter. "That's not how it works, young man," she chided playfully, explaining the correct rule to the children.

[batteryhome]

Batería para Portátil SAMSUNG AA-PBRN4ZU más nueva

Batería SAMSUNG AA-PBRN4ZU, compatible con el Samsung Galaxy Book Flex 950QCG 930QCG 15-NP950, de alta calidad y bajo precio.Esta batería está diseñada específicamente para el Samsung Galaxy Book Flex 950QCG 930QCG 15-NP950, capaz de proporcionar una potencia estable y duradera. Tiene una capacidad de batería de 4350mAh, un voltaje de batería de 15.4V, Es totalmente compatible con el equipo original, sin necesidad de accesorios o configuraciones adicionales.Nuestra batería SAMSUNG AA-PBRN4ZU tiene la certificación CE y RoHS, cumple con los estándares de seguridad y medioambientales de Europa. Nuestra batería AA-PBRN4ZU es 100% nueva, no contiene ninguna pieza usada o renovada. Nuestra batería AA-PBRN4ZU tiene un precio asequible y una buena relación calidad-precio, es la mejor opción para comprar una batería.

Batería Compatible para SAMSUNG AA-PBRN4ZU

Baterías para portátiles SAMSUNG AA-PBRN4ZU, de calidad garantizada, precio económico, de confianza.

ESPECIFICACIONES:

Marca de la batería: batería para SAMSUNG Tipo de batería: Li-ion Aplicaciones de la batería: SAMSUNG ordenador portátil Capacidad: 4350mAh Voltaje: 15.4V

Sobre nosotros

www.parabaterias.com es una tienda de baterías online española. Este sitio tiene como objetivo proporcionar a los clientes productos reales y precios razonables en el mercado, y explorar y explorar constantemente la dirección potencial del mercado.

Batería de repuesto para SAMSUNG AA-PBRN4ZU 4350mAh 15.4V, compatible con el equipo original de Samsung Galaxy Book Flex 950QCG 930QCG 15-NP950.

Números de pieza: AA-PBRN4ZU Modelos Compatibles: For Samsung Galaxy 930QCG/930XCJ/NP930QCG/NP950QCG

Referencia de precio de la batería AA-PBRN4ZU

ES:SAMSUNG AA-PBRN4ZU

[denchi-love]

Hochwertiger Akku BROTHER PA-BT-009 brother PA-BT-009

Hochwertiger Akku PA-BT-009, geeignet für BROTHER akku Modell- / Teilenummer BROTHER PA-BT-009. Kompatibel mit brother PA-BT-009. Nennkapazität 3080mAh 7.4V. Einfaches Einkaufen, ein Jahr Garantie, schnelle Lieferung!

BROTHER PA-BT-009 akku 3080mAh 7.4V für brother PA-BT-009

Eigenschaften des BROTHER PA-BT-009-Ersatzakkus: Wir bieten hochwertige PA-BT-009-Akkus an, die sich ideal als Ersatzakkus für alte oder defekte BROTHER-Akkus eignen. Hochwertige Komponenten verhindern Überladung und Kurzschlüsse und schützen elektronische Geräte.

Akkus BROTHER PA-BT-009

Ersatzakku BROTHER PA-BT-009, gwarantowana jakość, przystępna cena, godna zaufania.

Nachbau-Akku für BROTHER PA-BT-009,Voll kompatibel zu brother PA-BT-009. Akku kann im Original-Ladegerät geladen werden. Als Fachmarkt stehen wir Ihnen beim Kauf beratend zur Seite.

Anwendungstyp: Akku Chemie: Li-ion Kapazität: 3080mAh Spannung: 7.4V

Produktdetails BROTHER PA-BT-009 Akku

Teilnummern:

PA-BT-009

Kompatible Modelle:

For brother PA-BT-009

EIGENSCHAFTEN

1. Qualität hat für uns oberste Priorität! Ersetzen Sie alle Teile von BROTHER PA-BT-009 durch hochwertige. 2. Neue Batterien bieten die beste Lösung für Energie. 3. Die Batterien sind alle neu! Kompatible BROTHER PA-BT-009-Batterien eignen sich ideal als Pufferbatterien oder Sekundärbatterien.

*Aufgrund zahlreicher Faktoren kann die Akkulaufzeit variieren. Sie ist je nach den ausgeführten Anwendungen, der Akkukonditionierung, den Funktionen, der Bildschirmhelligkeit, der Stromverbrauchssteuerung und anderen Benutzereinstellungen unterschiedlich.

Online-Marktplatz von Ersatzakkus

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batteri-barbar:BROTHER PA-BT-009 batteri

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Aktuelle Artikelliste

Hochwertiger Akku APPLE 616–0407 Apple iPod Nano 4 Samsung AA-PBSN4AF Laptop Batterie: Langlebig, intelligent und effizient Hochwertiger Akku SAMSUNG AA-PBRN4ZU Samsung Galaxy Book Flex 950QCG 930QCG 15-NP950

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[notepc1]

note-pc.co【 AA-PBSN4AF 】，低価格、1年間保証、PSE認証、対応迅速

ブランド : SAMSUNG ノート バッテリー

タイプ（材質） : Li-ion

容量 : 3530mAh/54Wh

電圧 : 15.4V

商品コード : SAM21OC1313_1

AA-PBSN4AF 次のモデルで利用可能:

AA-PBSN4AF BA43-00391A BA43-00391B

製品 SAMSUNG AA-PBSN4AF  製品モデルとは SAMSUNG NP730QCJ NP730QDA 完全に互換性があります:

For Samsung Galaxy Book Flex Alpha NP730QCJ (NP730QCJ-K01US NP730QCJ-K02US NP730QCJ-K04US); Galaxy Book Flex2 Alpha NP730QDA (NP730QDA-KA1US NP730QDA-KA3US NP730QDA-KB1US NP730QDA-KB3US); Notebook 9 Pen NP930SBE (NP930SBE-K01CN NP930SBE-K01HK) Series

購入チャネルの推奨

JP: SAMSUNG AA-PBSN4AF ノート バッテリー US: SAMSUNG AA-PBSN4AF Laptop Battery FR: SAMSUNG AA-PBSN4AF Batterie Ordinateur Portable ES: SAMSUNG AA-PBSN4AF Batería De Portátil IT: SAMSUNG AA-PBSN4AF Batterie PC Portatili PL: SAMSUNG AA-PBSN4AF Bateria Do Laptopów UK: SAMSUNG AA-PBSN4AF Laptop Battery

他のタイプのSAMSUNGノート バッテリーモデルを見る

SAMSUNG AA-PBAN6TIバッテリー6895mAh/79.84WH 11.58V

SAMSUNG EB-BW720ABSバッテリー5070mAh/39.04WH 7.7V

SAMSUNG AA-PLYN4ANバッテリー6800mAh/50Wh 7.4V

Samsung AA-PBQN3APバッテリー4811mAh/55.7Wh 11.58V

SAMSUNG AA-PBLN4MTバッテリー5723mAh/44.0WH 7.7V

Samsung EB-BW720ABAバッテリー5070mAh/39.04Wh 7.7V

Samsung AA-PBXN8ARバッテリー8400mAh/62Wh 7.4V

Samsung NP900X4Cバッテリー8400mAh/62Wh 7.4V

Samsung AA-PLVN8NPバッテリー6050MAH/91WH 15.1V

Samsung AA-PLZN4NPバッテリー6540mAh 49Wh 7.5V

人気の検索商品モデル

Apple 821-1610-A バッテリー; Trackpad Touchpad Mouse with Cable for Apple MacBook Pro 15 A1398 2012 2013 2014 Retina;

HAMILTON 369106 バッテリー; Hamilton C2 C3 C6 S1 Medical; 6.6Ah/95Wh 14.4V

Acer AL14A32 バッテリー; Acer ASPIRE E5-521 ASPIRE E5-521G ASPIRE E5-531 ; 5000mAh/6Cell 11.1V

SAMSUNG SCUD-WT-W1 バッテリー; SAMSUNG Galaxy A22; 5000mAh/19.25WH 3.85V

RoaringTOP 2S1P バッテリー; RoaringTOP 2S1P 7.4V 50C 38.48Wh; 38.48Wh 7.4V

HUBSAN zino バッテリー; HUBSAN Zino H117S, Zino pro drone; 4200mAh/47.9WH 11.4v

Dell W11CK バッテリー; Dell Latitude 14 5404 7204 7404; 97WH 11.1V

DOOV PL-C13 バッテリー; DOOV T20 T20L; 1900mAh 3.8V

Shark KB28 バッテリー; Shark Ion R75 RV85 RV850 RV750-N RVBAT850(2-prongs plug); 3000mAh 14.8V

Coolpad CPLD-19 バッテリー; Coolpad 8720L/Q 7295 5891 7270 5892 8705 5872; 2000mAh/7.4WH 3.7V

UROVO HBL5000S バッテリー; Urovo V5000S V5100; 4500mAh/17.1Wh 3.8V

Motorola EG30 バッテリー; DROID SNN5916A XT907 RAZR I XT890; 1940MAH 3.8V

Meizu BA911 バッテリー; Meizu BA911; 3420mAh 13.17Wh 3.85V

Gateway 45121212P バッテリー; Gateway GWTN116-1BL GWTC116-2BL GWTC116-1BK; 5500mAh/41.8Wh 7.6V

K_TOUCH E700 バッテリー; K-Touch E700 E67; 1700mAh/6.29WH 3.7V

Dell 8G8GJ バッテリー; Dell Latitude 12 Rugged Extreme 7214 7204 NJTCH N4D39; 56W 7.4v

SHARP BT-H11 バッテリー; Sharp VL-8888 VL-E Series VL-E34S VL-E39S VL-E407S VL-E47S VL-E49S VL-H Series VL-H4200S VL-H420S; 4.0Ah/14.4Wh 3.8V

TOSHIBA PA5043U バッテリー; Toshiba Portege R830 R840 R700 R705 Series; 66Wh 10.8V

KOOBEE BL-28CT バッテリー; KOOBEE T550; 1500mAh/5.55WH 3.7V

Montblanc APP00278 バッテリー; Montblanc SUMMIT S2T18; 340mAh/1.29Wh 3.8V

[miya716tienda]

Hochwertiger Akku für SAMSUNG AA-PBRN4ZU 15.4V 4350mAh/66.9Wh Akku Für Laptop

SAMSUNG AA-PBRN4ZU Akku Für Laptop Günstiger Preis, hohe Qualitätsgarantie

Hochwertiger Akku für AA-PBRN4ZU kaufen. Große Auswahl an Akkus für SAMSUNG AA-PBRN4ZU ✓Qualitätsprodukte ✓Versandkostenfrei . 15.4V 4350mAh/66.9Wh Ersatzakku für Samsung Galaxy Book Flex 950QCG 930QCG 15-NP950.

Ersatzakku SAMSUNG AA-PBRN4ZU 15.4V 4350mAh/66.9Wh Akku

Neuer hochwertiger Akku Für Laptop, langlebiger Akku. mit moderner Lithium-Technologie, kein Memory-Effekt.

Produktlink：https://akku-smarkt.de/item/12828/aa-pbrn4zu

Kategorie: Akku Für Laptop

Marke: SAMSUNG

Material: Li-ion

Kapazität: 4350mAh/66.9Wh

Spannung: 15.4V

Farbe:White

Kompatible Modelle:

For Samsung Galaxy 930QCG/930XCJ/NP930QCG/NP950QCG

Suchen Sie einen SAMSUNG AA-PBRN4ZU Akku für Ihr Gerät? Dann sind Sie bei uns genau richtig, denn bei akku-smarkt.de bieten wir Ihnen ein großes Sortiment an hochwertigen SAMSUNG AA-PBRN4ZU Akkus, die sich durch Zyklenfestigkeit und lange Lebensdauer auszeichnen.

Garantie: 100 % sichere Einkaufsgarantie! 1 Jahr Garantie!

Anleitung für SAMSUNG AA-PBRN4ZU 4350mAh/66.9Wh 15.4V:

1. Wenn SAMSUNG AA-PBRN4ZU längere Zeit nicht verwendet wurde, sollte es an einem kühlen und trockenen Ort aufbewahrt werden, um zu verhindern, dass sich die interne Selbstpassivierungsreaktion beschleunigt! 2. SAMSUNG AA-PBRN4ZU Ersatzakku hier günstig kaufen! Wenn Sie aus irgendeinem Grund mit SAMSUNG AA-PBRN4ZU nicht zufrieden sind, können Sie sich gerne an uns wenden. Wir werden Ihnen innerhalb von 24 Stunden antworten.

Online-Shop – Fokus auf Qualität und Auswahlvielfalt

[BE] Batterie pour AA-PBRN4ZU

[ES] AA-PBRN4ZU Batería de Repuesto de Alta Capacidad

[NZ] AA-PBRN4ZU Battery NZ

[UK] Replacement Battery AA-PBRN4ZU

[FR] Baterie pour AA-PBRN4ZU

[US] Battery for AA-PBRN4ZU

[PL] Bateria do AA-PBRN4ZU

Sie erhalten bei uns Akkus, Batterien und Zubehör für alle mobilen Geräte wie Handys, Smartphones, Laptops, Werkzeuge, Kameras und Viele mehr.