kaliori

[kaliori]

Proof of life

Hey readers! Just a quick note to prove I’m still alive and writing more from The Politics of Feeling Good. In case the empty promise of more content isn’t good enough for you, here’s a brief snippet of the next part coming soon:

He fought the impulse to turn toward the heavy metallic sound of the cargo hold door swinging open. He knew who was there. He also knew when not to break from Hera’s commands. The first times he’d tried to force eye contact earned him a quick slap in the mouth. Even if he wanted it, he wanted her to have the upper hand even more.

[kaliori]

Retitling the first part of this story: Fiat

More parts coming

Thank you @lionesshathor​ for supporting this venture

The Politics of Feeling Good

Fandom: Star Wars Rebels Pairing: Crackfic - Hera Syndulla/Alexsandr Kallus  Rating: R (bondage, submission, some violence) Disclaimer: For entertainment purposes only. Also, crackfic rules apply. Summary: When you spend most of your life handing out pain, sometimes the best way to recover is to succumb to it. A one-off short story based on a prompt from @lionesshathor: Sub slave Kallus, dominated by Hera. Adding Kanan or Zeb is optional, it’s mostly about the reversed role power play of Twi’lek and Imperial-ish human… Notes: THANK YOU lionesshathor for the prompt! This was really fun to write. Getting back to regularly scheduled Bookends content soon. Also, please consider the playlist I made to go along with the story: https://tinyurl.com/y7pk4gad Word count: 4055

Keep reading

[kaliori]

Bookends, Part 13

The Ghost crew had their routines for every situation. The things they did together as a unit, like meals and missions, went like clockwork after the months together passed into years. The more informal rituals like Kanan’s regular holochess appointment with Zeb proceeded similarly. Although at some point they’d each lost track of the score and both had a case for who was winning in the all-time standings.

Another of these rituals began in the wake of the biggest shakeup the Spectres had seen since Zeb joined them and turned Hera’s unexpected pairing with Kanan into a real crew. Hera went back to being cautious with Kanan, though only in public. Behind closed doors, she remained as open as ever, emotionally and otherwise.

One very early morning, moments before they were expected to be up and about for the day’s tasks, she lingered on Kanan between her thighs. His hair fell around his face as he looked down at her. She reached up to tuck a lock behind his ear. “I don’t suppose we’ll get to enjoy ourselves for much longer,” she said.

“What’s that,” he asked.

“It’s going to be different now with her here.”

“I think she’s old enough to have figured that part out.” She allowed a much longer leash for Kanan’s sass in the bedroom, but here his sharp tongue made her turn her head and look away.

Kanan grunted an apology. “I messed up again, didn’t I?”

“Our priorities need to change,” she said, still not looking at him. Telling him she had to cool off their relationship felt like a complete lie while in his arms and touching skin to skin.

“I’m worried about her too.” He pulled Hera close to him, nestling her against his chest. “She’s alone too much.”

“You were a loner when we met,” she said. “So was I.”

“Yeah, and look where that got us.” He felt her smile against his shoulder. Reluctantly, he untangled their embrace. He kept his vow to never let her go by giving her the space she needed—where he could spare it.

Before they had to step out into the real world, he spoke up again. A hail mary to stay in the game.

“We can only be there for her as much as she wants us to be,” he said. “We can’t help if she won’t let us. I don’t want to waste time on what we can’t do. We should focus on the things we can do. For her, and for us.”

“Hm,” Hera said. “A Jedi lecture on balance.” She matched him sass for sass.

“Remember what I said way back in the beginning. We’ll make it work.”

She watched him bind his hair back into the ponytail. Both dressed and ready to go, there was nothing left to talk about. They were officially late and already breaking her own rules.

“Meet me for target practice later,” she said.

“Good idea,” he said with a laugh. “That’s an easy sell. You’re a much better shot than me.”

“I know.” Her teasing smile told him everything.

Sabine spied them on their way back to the Ghost. She sat alone in the common area with a steaming mug, an uncommon sight for the rest of the Ghost crew. Most days she rarely ventured out of her quarters and when she did, she looked at the floor, the bulkheads, her boots, anything but the others around her. This time was no different, and for that Kanan and Hera had to give thanks. Kanan had warned her about the scratches on her neck after they finished “target practice.”

“My fault,” she said. “I should have been on top this time. I didn’t know the gravel would be so rough.”

Kanan tenderly shifted her lek aside to examine her scraped skin. “Does it hurt?”

“No, but it’s pretty obvious.” Kanan had nothing constructive to say about sneaking around and hiding their relationship again. He accepted that walking beside her after a training session cover story was the best he could get those days.

Kanan realized the zipper on his pants was still undone, at the worst possible moment as he entered the Ghost interior with nowhere to go and Sabine sitting right there. The dim lights felt brighter and hotter than ever to him as the embarrassment flooded in.

The brief glance she gave them read like she had ice water in her veins. She gathered her mug and stood up to leave. “You don’t have to go,” Hera said. “We’re just passing through.” She could have chewed a hole through her lip at using “we” in front of Sabine. “I hope you’ll join us for dinner later.” More uneasy silence ticked away between the three of them as Sabine stared into her mug. She remained unmoved. Hera managed to escape with a nod to nobody in particular, leaving Kanan trapped in one of the most awkward moments of his life.

He fought an impulse to cover his open fly. Surely that would give him and Hera away. It didn’t matter. Sabine still wouldn’t look at him, or any of them, for any amount of credits in the galaxy. Maybe one day he’d be able to reach her. He’d have to survive this shame first.

He turned to leave before he could make things worse. Sabine did the most shocking thing of all. She spoke up.

“Kanan.” It was the first time she’d addressed him by name. She’d nudged the door open a tiny crack. He had to proceed with caution especially since she had been the one to reach out this time.

“Yeah?”

Since they found her, Sabine showed only a few expressions, none of which indicated she’d warm up to any of them. She gave Kanan a severe stare, fixing her eyes on him more focused and longer than when they first came in. “Treat her right,” she said.

He sized her up: the teenage girl who hid most of her face behind faded orange bangs, kept everyone around her at arm’s length, and wouldn’t speak most of the time even when spoken to felt she had the right to tell him how to handle his private business. She was right in her defense of Hera, however unwelcome. Kanan had to find a way to let Sabine know she had nothing to fear with the Spectres, about Hera or him, or for herself.

She took his silence as inaction and huffed an impatient breath at him. “You don’t want to piss off a Mandalorian.” With a hair flip, she was gone down the corridor.

Hera was right and wrong at the same time. Things were already changing. Division wasn’t the way to go. He’d put in the work necessary to get close to her. Now he had to work to unite the crew and remind Hera that he was good for the promise he made to her. Her job was hard enough as the leader and self-imposed shoulder of burdens. His job was her.

That’s the end of the first volume of Bookends, aka “The End of the Beginning.” Volume 2, “The Beginning of the End” is coming soon, after an interlude from the continuation of The Politics of Feeling Good  

[kaliori]

That fuckin trailer

In the best way possible

That’s all I have at the moment

[kaliori]

Interstitial 3

Here’s some news about upcoming stories.

Updates are occurring in the following order:

1 more story in the “End of the Beginning” Chapter of Bookends is coming very soon, likely within the next week, after which I’ll compile all those posts into links in one megapost so anyone can read that whole chapter in one go if they like

Some stories in the Kallera universe (2-3 maybe? IDK yet), non-linear, just some visitations within the universe

The “Beginning of the End” Chapter of Bookends with an undisclosed number of parts

If “Beginning of the End” sounds scary, it’s not. Kanera is getting a happy ending. It may not be the ending everyone wants and it may or may not match up with what happens in the final arc of Rebels but it’s something I’ve wanted for a long time as a Star Wars fan and a writer. I’ve written more than my share of heartbreaking hopeless shit. I’m over the endless doom (Dume?) on social media about Kanan’s fate. It’s time for something different.

[kaliori]

Bookends, Part 12

Kanan felt a sense of peace as he stood in the old farmer’s orchard. Even with mud caked up to his knees and an ache creeping into his shoulders from digging ditches between rows of fruit trees. Hard work with purpose always got to him in the best way.

The old man, Pierson as he’d introduced himself when Hera and the Ghost crew showed up to respond to the farm’s work requisition through Hera’s network, laughed to himself when he joined Kanan. The picture of a younger man not yet beaten down by decades of labor nor suppressed by the looming threat of the Empire revitalized Pierson. Kanan, covered in sweat and earth, practically glowed beside him.

“I want to thank you again for working with us,” Pierson said. “You’ve been a tremendous help.”

“It means a lot to us,” Kanan said. “Anything we can do to help others, we’ll do it.”

“You did great work out there. All of you. Especially the big fella.” He looked over to Zeb, who stood with Hera and Mrs. Pierson among stacks of wooden crates and bushels of freshly picked fruit from the grove. Zeb and Hera helped her sort the fruit into crates. Kanan glanced over to Pierson and watched a wave of emotions flow over his face: pride, then uncertainty, then a dark cloud of sadness.

“Getting that irrigation system up and running will make a big difference,” he said. “Anything we can get and sock away before they get here…” Kanan was used to the despair and devastation that followed once the Empire swept into a new star system. This verdant little corner of the galaxy had yet to run afoul of those forces. Kanan knew the buds on the trees might not blossom into crops for the Piersons to enjoy, not before the Empire showed up to snatch and grab all available resources and subsequently run the quaint family farm into the ground. Strip the earth of vital minerals from over farming or just plain burn it down if the farmers didn’t comply with their demands or the orchard couldn’t bear the abuse. Pierson’s sadness became palpable, through sheer empathy and familiarity before Kanan could sense it through the Force.

“Did you know this orchard has been in my wife’s family for over 100 years,” he asked. He pulled himself up and out of sadness, settling into reminiscing as old men often do. “Every planting season, every harvest, without fail, these trees provide for our family. Always have. We do what we can to keep it going.” He pulled off his gloves, stiff with dried mud and stained gray from years of wear and work. “We managed to keep it all in the family, too. Profits and work. Until now.” Pierson and Kanan exchanged a look. “Don’t take it the wrong way, son. We’re too old to do it all. We needed good workers. We got that when you showed up. You take direction so well on laying down those water lines I could swear you’d worked on a farm before.”

Pierson sighed, suddenly heavy. A successful day of work, renewed hope for his farm, and beautiful weather should have buoyed his spirits. The reality of why he contracted the Ghost crew and the weight of their work threatened to drag him down.

“I’m just glad you’re here,” he said. “We know they’re coming.”

Kanan nodded. “They don’t scare you,” Pierson asked.

“They do,” Kanan admitted. “But not enough to stop us.”

“That’s what I like to hear!” As quickly as Pierson appeared to fade into despair, he perked right up again. He slapped Kanan on the back, hard enough to expand twinges of pain further into his muscles. Pierson may have been old, but it was clear he hadn’t lost a step. “I’d do anything to save this orchard. You don’t throw away generations of work and love because some jackals with spit shined boots show up.” Kanan attempted a smile to hide the pangs of pain, but it came out more as bared teeth than a friendly gesture.

Not that Pierson noticed. He was deep into his vision of the orchard and what it meant to him and the rest of the galaxy. “Others might see this as a waste of time,” he said. “With the Empire coming, why not just wait for their orders to install an irrigation ditch? I’ll tell you why.” He pointed at Kanan. “Pride. Standing up. Defending what’s ours. This could be the last good harvest we have. Anything we grow for the Empire isn’t worth a thing to me. But I’ll be damned if I’ll sit around and wait for them. That’s my legacy.”

Pierson’s moods changed as quickly as the fluffy clouds that floated by in the blue sky over their heads. One minute his eyes were ablaze with his screed against the Empire. His gaze softened when he looked over to his wife again, still working with Hera and Zeb to load fruit in the crates. She offered a small round fruit to each of them. When Hera bit into the fruit, indigo juice burst into her hand and on her face. She and Zeb laughed at each other smeared with the succulent fruit.

“You’re a lucky guy,” Pierson said.

“Huh,” Kanan said.

“She’s really something, isn’t she?” When Pierson saw Kanan didn’t follow, he nodded to Hera, who was helping Zeb get the indigo juice out of his fur before it stained.

“How did you know?”

“The look on your face,” he said. Kanan shrugged at him. “I’ve been married 37 years. When you get to be my age, let’s just say you know what love looks like.”

All Kanan could do was shuffle his feet and smile at the ground. Pierson had yet to be wrong all day.

“If you have time before you take off, you should take her for a walk,” he said. “Go past the fruit trees and you’ll see the woods. Really romantic. A good way to earn points.” Kanan’s blank expression prompted Pierson to explain further. Since Kanan gave him an honest day’s work, he could return the favor with a few life lessons. “Love is easy now, when you’re young and good looking and all your parts work like they’re supposed to. But when you lose your looks and gravity takes over, it takes more work to keep the fires burning. Take her for a romantic walk and she’ll remember it for the rest of her life.” He gave Kanan a once-over. “Maybe after cleaning yourself up.”

Pierson and Kanan joined the rest of the crew for the farm job. Right on time, Hera needled Kanan for showing up looking a mess. “Nice boots,” she said.

“At least I understand that food goes in your mouth,” he shot back.

She curled her lip up at him. “You saw that?”

“It’s a good look for you.” He beamed that grin at her that she loved to hate.

“He’s hilarious,” she said to the Piersons. “Thanks again for letting us work with you. We’ll clean up and be on our way.” After the handshakes, hugs, and the bundle of produce and credits were loaded onto the Ghost, Kanan caught Hera’s hand.

“Can we make time for one more thing,” he asked.

“You can clean yourself up on board,” she said.

“I mean…” Even with their barriers broken down, he still had trouble admitting what he wanted to her face. “Let’s go somewhere.”

“What do you mean,” she asked. “Here? The job’s over. You know I don’t want to stay in one place for too long.”

“This has nothing to do with work or anything else.” She studied him with a critical eye. Even dirty and disheveled he could get under her skin with his devilish charm. She waited for him to piece together the invitation or request that lingered on the tip of his tongue. Sometimes just watching and waiting with him was as good as anything else he did.

“Will you go for a walk with me?”

That came unexpected to her, even for someone who knew exactly what she was doing when Kanan suddenly turned flustered around her. All that build up for a quick trip around the farm? What else could she do but say, “okay.”

Kanan hesitated one more time, asking, “but what about—”

“I’ve seen you looking worse,” she said, shrugging at his dirty work clothes. “And I still wouldn’t kick you out of bed.”

She let him take the lead. With a hand on the small of her back, he guided her down the ship’s ramp, past the fruit orchard, and toward the taller trees that lined the Pierson property. Out there, the trees stood taller with wider trunks and longer branches, and the bright sunshine faded to coins of light filtering through thick canopies of leaves. Behind them, the air was sweet with the scent of ripening fruit on branches. An aroma of fresh earth and mint grew stronger as they entered the woods. Fallen pieces of bark crunched underfoot. The wood was a world apart from the dust, oppressive heat, unremarkable landscapes, and other drudgery that defined their lives as vagabonds. Cooler air inside the cover of trees refreshed them on the surface; existing alongside flourishing greenery replenished their souls.

Despite Hera’s warning, they kept a slow pace through the trees. Hera’s head was on a swivel, her lek bumping against Kanan as she took in the rich greenery all around her. “I’ve been to a lot of places and seen a lot of things,” she said. “But I’ll never get over this. It’s beautiful.”

Kanan knew how to get women, but Pierson seemed to know how to keep women around. This was the moment the old man prescribed for long-lasting love: the magic of the right place, the right time, and the right girl. Kanan didn’t have to ask if anything could put stars in Hera’s eyes. He knew the answer. But if he had to bet on it, that trip through the woods would be the closest shot he ever had at winning.

“You’re beautiful,” he said to her. He took her hand and turned to face her. Everything around him was perfection: the grove, the redolence, Hera. The look in her eyes seemed to overwrite his disastrous appearance. The way she looked at him, her love glowing deep in her green eyes, was the last thing he saw every night and the first thing he saw each morning. She illuminated the forest for him.

They stayed like that for so long, silent and unmoving. It allowed a little buzzing idea to take root in the back of Hera’s mind. She’d seen something like this before, long ago on those isolated worlds where she’d tried to make a few credits and help out a few people. On the day she bought the pink fabric, she recalled seeing a couple walking along the bazaar path. One took the other’s hand, and the other shouted an agreement. “Humans,” the shopkeeper said with eyes rolling. “Always a big show.”

Back in the present, Hera found her face hot and the rest of her body cold from nerves. She accepted Kanan and his overtures as the price of living with a mate from a different species. This walk in the woods set her on edge anticipating Kanan’s intentions. Suddenly everything became meaningful. A simple invitation to spend time together outside the Ghost wasn’t so simple after all.

Her mind spun through all the outcomes. Yes, no, ask again later, would Chopper ever butt out of her business if she said yes. Kanan finally made his move. She pressed her lips together, unsure of what would come out of her mouth once he opened his.

He brought her hand briefly to his lips and said, “I love you, but we gotta go.”

She let out a big deflating breath. That was it?

“I know,” he said. “I wish we could stay out here forever. But you’re right. We need to get moving.” Leaving the woods meant leaving the question behind. Her answer, or even if Kanan would ask again, could only be classified as unknown. She kissed him with everything she had, risking his muddy clothes and dirty hands all over her. One more magic moment before they had to get back to their regularly scheduled lives.

“Come on,” he said, muttering around her insistent lips pressing onto him again and again. “I’m filthy. The ship is right over there and—”

“I don’t care,” she said.

In the days when Kanan spent his free time speculating what his life could be if Hera gave him a chance, he played out many resolutions. Most of them ended with his pants around his ankles. He found himself in the one he never saw coming: peeling Hera off his body and asking her to cool her jets.

“We’re doing this right,” he said. “Or not at all.”

She raised a pencil thin eyebrow at him. Suddenly, there was no room for questions or intent, or anything but the spark between them. The thing that kept them coming back to these moments. Some of the best things happened in the rarest of times when she allowed him to call the shots. In her sleepless nights before she pieced together the moxie necessary to admit that she was in love with Kanan, she rationalized away everything she felt for him. It all came back to one thing: it made sense to keep him around, for whatever she needed out of him.

She had the answer all along. She had to go with it. “Anything you say,” she said.

[kaliori]

Bookends, Part 11B

Another one of those early mornings where Kanan found himself scrambling to get out of bed without waking her up. This time, he worked toward putting something together that he hoped would keep the woman he slept with around for a while.

The Ghost crew were early risers by nature; a necessary quality for those running from the Empire. Kanan had to move fast to beat them to the punch. He could do without an audience for his surprise for Hera. Zeb knew enough to keep his distance and let Kanan carry out his protracted mating dance. Chopper was the one to watch out for. The nosy droid stuck to Hera like glue. Plus he couldn’t go one day without stirring the pot.

Hera had touched down on the surface of another nondescript Outer Rim planet, designated as their resting place for the night. Kanan didn’t wait to take a look out the Ghost’s open loading ramp at the slowly sinking sun. He was already on his way to Hera’s quarters to fulfill the request she murmured in passing as they cleaned up after the crew’s evening meal.

Kanan made almost a complete trip around the ship to get the things he needed. First to his quarters to grab his lightsaber, then the commissary to start a pot of caf. On his way out to open the hatch, he scooped up two wire crates from a cargo hold. He sat on one crate facing the Ghost’s open hatch with the horizon at his back. Dawn was near and soon sunrise would blaze against the remains of the still night. Kanan hoped Hera would join him soon. His lightsaber was more dramatic in the dark.

The hour before daybreak offered him a rare gift: total silence. No nocturnal creatures stirred in the distance. No noise came from the ship in front of him. He had mastered mindfulness in much more chaotic environs before.

Of course, it took only moments for Hera to find him on the wire crate, fixed in place with eyes closed and chest rising and falling with deep, focused breaths. “Good morning,” he said to her, his state undisturbed.

“Your note told me to meet you outside,” she said. “You knew I was here?”

The rich, strong scent of fresh caf wafted to him on a soft cool breeze. “The caf helped,” he said with a coy smile. He opened his eyes to see her walking down the ramp with a steaming mug in each hand. He stood to meet her and took one of the mugs she offered. With her free hand, she pulled him by the back of his neck down to her level for a long, deep kiss. The kind that sent electricity shooting around his body and left his lips damp when she finally pulled away. He’d planned on doing most of the talking before she broke him down with just one kiss.

“So,” she said, prompting him to speak up after several minutes of silence where she nursed her caf. He ushered her to sit on a wire crate beside him. The two of them sitting together in the last moments before sunrise almost distracted him from what he came out there to do. They had few precious moments of being truly alone together like this; his hand between her knees, the tips of her lekku crossed over twice in front of her chest, his heart still racing from her greeting. “Why are we out here?”

Kanan called Hera the serious one, although he was starting to straighten up thanks to her good influence on him. He drew on her strength to shore himself up for one of the most difficult conversations he could imagine.

He stood up. Before he reached for the lightsaber clipped to his belt, he took a deep breath in and out. It came out heavier than intended, pushing out as a sigh. Hera’s expression faded from enchantment as he struggled to put the words together for her.

“Last night I told you I wanted to show you something,” he said. “It’s this.” He gripped the hilt and committed to it. “My lightsaber.” The blade blazed to life, casting a blue glow between them. The soft light did nothing to calm the storm of emotions on his face.

“I’ve seen them before,” she said. “Blue, green, even a purple one.”

He nodded but it wasn’t enough. “I don’t want to hide anything from you,” he said.

“I know you,” she said.

“No you don’t. You don’t know even know what I am. If you really knew--”

“Kanan,” she started.

“That’s not my real name.”

She shrugged at him. “Is this why you brought me out here at the crack of dawn?” The bright blue light cut through the remainder of the night and washed the color from Kanan’s face. It could have been a ghost talking to her, pale faced and dwelling on long buried painful secrets.

“You deserve to know,” he said.

She put down her mug and focused all her attention on him. “I didn’t ask,” she said. “Don’t take that as me being afraid of you or avoiding your deep dark secrets. I don’t want you get twisted up about things you can’t change.”

His gaze met hers. The lightsaber stole the brilliant turquoise from his eyes, leaving them monochrome blue-white. “It feels like you’re confessing sins to me,” she went on. The lightsaber stayed on. The hum and heat vibrating from the blade kept Kanan apart from Hera, when all she wanted was to reach out to him.

“There’s so much.” Based on what she knew of the Jedi, Kanan broke the mold. His passion and enthusiasm, his anger and annoyance, his love and desire for her, every emotion on the spectrum came through loud and clear. Except sadness and fear. That morning, in the pale glow of a lightsaber, was one of the few times she’d seen him in that much pain.

She went to him, skirting the blade to stand behind him. Her arms circled low around his waist, her hands pulling in on his flat stomach. “Guilt,” she said. “It’ll kill you. Don’t let it start.” She held him close with a silent hope for him to turn that damn thing off already.

He tensed in her arms, ready to fight back against her assertions. One moment he was absolutely sure she was wrong about him and needed to prove it in granular detail. As he dredged up the memories of the horrors of war and his lost master, he looked down at her hands. Her fingers laced together and palms pressed against him. She was warm against him, like always. Before he knew her he dwelled on the past until the sum of his history caught up to break him all over again. Until then, he dragged himself through the gauntlet of mental torment alone. Frequently, until the pain built up to where he had to numb himself just to make it another day.

But there she was, giving herself to him. All her love, her patience, her compassion forced him to see what she could do for him outside the cockpit and her quarters. She understood what he was going through better than most beings in the galaxy. Further, she practically begged him to let it go and just be the man she fell in love with.

He dropped the blade of the lightsaber down but didn’t turn it off. “I can’t keep up with you,” he said to her.

“That’s a lie,” she said. “I wouldn’t even bother with you otherwise.”

“You always know what to do, what to say, where to go,” he said. “Sometimes it’s hard to believe you’re not 900 years old. You’re so damn wise. It makes me feel like a complete idiot at times. Like right now.”

She sighed at him, despite her best efforts to extend her patience for as long as he needed it. “You need to stop doing that,” she said.

“Doing what?”

“Putting me up on a pedestal,” she said. “Males all around the galaxy do that to me and I hate it it. I know you don’t mean it like that, but it drives me crazy.” She risked the hot blade in his hands to circle around and face him. “I am not perfect. Neither are you. I don’t need you to be.”

Kanan closed his eyes. An image of his former life in the Jedi temple came up, with mythic men and women sweeping around the grounds in robes. As a bright-eyed youngling, Caleb looked up to them like heroes, or gods, or a somehow even more fantastic hybrid of the two. A slightly different memory began that morning; the picture of nearly impossible standards to live up to, with no room for the natural forces of living. Kanan saw Caleb in a new light as he stared down at the blade of his lightsaber. A shaken little boy afraid of a future where he didn’t quite measure up among the others gifted with the same powers that tore him away from a life he never knew, but still dared to dream of.

He couldn’t take it anymore. He shut the blade off and replaced the saber on his belt. He looked her in the eye and told her the one truth he could bear at that moment. “My name was Caleb Dume.”

She nodded. “Okay, Kanan,” she said pointedly to drive home that the past really meant bantha dung to her. “Let’s go have breakfast with our friends.”

As they gathered the crates and mugs to head back into the Ghost, Hera spoke up again. “You’re not getting rid of me,” she said. “If that was one of those stupid attempts to break up with me, it failed.”

“See now,” he said, chucking her under the chin. “You must think I’m a dummy. I’d never try a stunt like that.” He winked and went on with the cleanup effort. Hera dipped her head briefly before trotting along behind him. With Kanan returned to his charmer self, all was right with the worlds, at least for that morning.

[kaliori]

Interstitial 2

Got a Russian translation request from a bot so I guess I have that going for me

More stories are coming, from the main Bookends series and from the soon to be expanded Hera/Kallus crackfic universe. After traveling a lot for work in the last few weeks and fighting a gross sinus cold this week, writing has been the last thing I’ve wanted/been able to do :(

But thanks to the 83 or so of you who read the words I write, I’m still motivated to turn out stories. I won’t leave y’all hanging!

Thanks for sticking with me!

[kaliori]

Bookends, Part 11A

[NSFW incoming!]

[Author’s note: Events in the whole of Part 11 (not the sexytimes) may have already happened in the Kanan comic but I haven’t read it so if I’m rehashing something that already exists please forgive me]

Hera held onto Kanan for dear life, arms wrapped around his shoulders, legs cinched around his waist. She was a whirl of sensations: the cold metal bulkhead against her back, Kanan’s warm bare skin against her chest, the last few jolts of pleasure with Kanan still inside her. He recovered with heavy breaths and holding her tight in his arms. Her mind drifted through a replay of the evening up to that point: her lounging around on her bed, waiting for Kanan to come in. Him diving right in with his face between her legs before he was even undressed. Her having to nudge him away with her foot when she’d had enough, because she wasn’t sure if he’d ever come up for air. Him sweeping her up in his arms and against the wall. Each time he first thrust into her, a brief expression of bemusement crossed his face. Sometimes they’d lock eyes or she’d brush some of his hair back. That time, she had hard metal at her back and a hard dick right where she needed it.

Kanan helped Hera back onto her feet. He shook her to the core with a previously unreached level of passion; the gentlemanly thing to do was to help with her unsteady stance. They spent every free moment they had sneaking off to screw their brains out. Hera wondered if maybe this time he knocked something loose.

Kanan turned his attention to Hera’s bed to smooth down the sheets, fluff the pillows, and rearrange the blankets. She shook her head, still in disbelief at his attentive gestures. She could go as far as letting him hold her hand under the breakfast table, but all alone like this, Kanan could let his romantic whims run wild.

He caught her shaking her head at him. “What,” he asked.

“I’ll never get used to this,” she said.

“You’re surprised when I take care of you? Next thing you’ll tell me is you’re confused when I do what you tell me.” His biceps flexed when he swept his loose hair back with both hands. Hera couldn’t tear her eyes away. “Like when you’re looking at me like that and you tell me to fuck you against the wall. I have to follow the captain’s orders.”

Flushing red all over but also nearly asleep where she stood, Hera climbed into bed. Kanan brought up the lamp again as he went to turn off the light. “It’s been a few weeks and I still don’t know the full story,” he said to her. Swallowed up in darkness when he switched off the light, Hera waited for his warm body pressing close to her.

Fighting sleep after a full day’s workload and vigorous fornication, Hera muttered, “There’s not much to tell.”

“Come on,” he said. How he could be wide awake and ready for storytime was beyond her. He and Zeb had helped a local restoration group on Romar move heavy pieces of broken concrete in a massive post-earthquake cleanup effort. The Ghost crew truly had earned their credits that day. “It doesn’t go with the blanket.”

It didn’t. The gems dotting the edge of the lampshade were dark green, while the yellow and purple painted shade was broken up in irregular black lines. Bold bright colors and austere black bands did not create a treat for the eyes.

“A merchant at one of those bazaars gave it to me,” Hera said after a long stretch of silence.

“I knew you didn’t buy it on your own.”

“I chased away some goon who tried to shoplift,” she said. “The shopkeeper insisted I take a reward. That was the reward.”

“That’s it?”

“I don’t know what to tell you.” She buried her face in the pillow, expecting to fade into sleep at any moment. “The lamp isn’t that interesting.”

More silence passed between them before Kanan spoke up. “I guess I owe you one.” She made a muffled sound in the pillow, indicating she was still listening, barely. “Bright and early, tomorrow morning. I have something to show you.”

Kanan unfolded himself to Hera but still held a few things back from her, against his intentions with her. Some things were still too painful and raw for him to share, even with the one he knew he could never walk away from. She’d taken huge leaps ahead in the last few weeks, all because he asked her to. He held her close to him and waited for sleep to come, thinking of all the things he shared with her, and the one big thing he had left. If she could overcome the locks and chains closed around her heart and love him, he had to repay her feat of emotional strength with a little soul bearing of his own.

Tomorrow morning, he would show her his light saber. He would open himself up to her questions about being a Jedi. He’d failed to face it himself, but maybe he could get there by leaning on her strength and compassion. She hooked his attention on Gorse by being unfailingly tough, but she reeled in his heart with her loving nature.

If only she knew that’s why he couldn’t sleep. Babbling on to cover it up. She had a way about her, to make him an absolute mess without even trying. Even dead to the world asleep she drove him crazy. He wouldn’t have it any other way.

[kaliori]

Bookends, Part 10

The typical morning on the Ghost dawned quiet and dim, with the same caf, the same holos, the same steel interior. Everything was gray or brown, down to the black caf in each crewmember’s mug. The morning after he professed his love for Hera, Kanan had a much more colorful outlook on life. He downplayed it as much as he could to toe the line of proper behavior on the ship. He even let Hera leave her quarters first, when he really wanted to walk with her hand in hand, pull out her chair, pour her caf, shower her with Malreaux roses, among other nauseating gestures.

She greeted him with a smile and a salutation, much better than the previous weeks of strained relations. When he settled down next to her for caf and holo viewing, he couldn’t help himself. He went to put his arm around Hera’s shoulder and got as far as her upper arm before she blocked the gesture. She refused by gently guiding his hand down to rest in his lap. His eyes flicked over to Zeb, who was already seated when Kanan came in and nodded his greeting before going back to his drink and the holonews.

Kanan accepted what Hera gave him. It wasn’t the time or the place. Until it was. With Zeb occupied and Kanan conceded to withholding, Hera surprised the hell out of him with her hand on his knee under the table, rising higher up his leg, slowly moving up the inseam of his work trousers. Another quick, sneaky look, this time to his other side where Hera sat, her other hand on her mug while her free hand worked her way up to his zipper. She gave it a quick little tug, not enough to move it down, then pulled her hand back up above the table to grip her mug in both hands.

“We have a lot of work to catch up on,” she told her crew after finishing off the caf with a big gulp. “It’s good to have you back, Kanan.” She departed to get started on the day’s work and left Kanan with fewer answers about her than before.

Hera was usually the subject of the thoughts in the back of his mind throughout the day: during work, before falling asleep, after waking up, sometimes even during meditation. He and Zeb spent most of their day schlepping heavy pieces of scrap metal promised to a droid repair shop on Tebru. Hera helped them sort through the materials in the cargo hold, informing them she owed the proprietor a long overdue favor. “I’ve never seen anyone so happy about a pile of rusted junk,” she said.

Hard labor wasn’t enough to push Hera out of his mind. He barely heard what Zeb had to say, when they weren’t grunting and breathing heavy through hefting the irregular, unwieldy shapes of metal. Something about challenging him to holochess after their evening meal, maybe. Kanan couldn’t get past Hera shutting him down in one beat and in the next being unable to keep her hands to herself. It annoyed him as much as it turned him on. So much had changed for them, literally overnight. And yet, more of the same as he continued his fight for her attention.

Kanan avoided both Hera and Zeb during the mid-day break. He chose to stay with the scraps in the cargo hold. His water jug and an impossible amount of dust from the old dirty parts were his only companions as he pondered his current state. He rested with his back propped up against a bulkhead and tilted his head up with his eyes closed. He could meditate anywhere and at any time. He had to master that skill as a man on the run, first as a teenager all the way through to adulthood. Meditation didn’t provide answers about Hera. Loving her was a brand new ballgame, much more than what he had in the past with anyone else. With no frame of reference for love and what came along with it, he knew one thing: he had a lot more to give than copping a feel under the breakfast table.

The remainder of the work day crawled by. Metal sorted and delivered to Hera’s merchant friend with a smile and hug between the two, and a small bag disappearing into Hera’s oversized cloak wrapped up the day’s job. Kanan would know the clacking of credits together anywhere. “I thought you said you owed him a favor,” he said to Hera as she folded her cloak on board the Ghost.

“I did,” she said, fixing her eyes on him. “But he owed me money and we were broke.” She swiped her hand on his chest to brush away leftover rust debris from working in the cargo hold. He welcomed her touch every time, even if it was just to clean him up a bit. His hand fit over her smaller hand almost entirely as he pressed hers to his chest. If he hadn’t been a walking dust cloud, he would have swept her up in his arms. She wriggled out of his grip after only a few seconds.

At least this time she didn’t snap back at him. She just shook her head briefly and told him to get cleaned up. Kanan added up the score from everything that happened over the last night and day as he freshened up. Hera’s reluctance around him still hurt, almost as much as the cut he opened up on his jawline when shaving the extra beard growth. He looked himself over in the mirror, pressing down on the cut to curb the bleeding. Thankful to be back in the land of the living after the nightmare near Laramus base, Kanan did not give in to complacency. He’d taken his lumps to get to Hera. The symbolic knick stood for more of the same in his future if it meant being with her.

In Kanan’s absence, Hera had avoided looking over at the vacant co-pilot’s chair while flying. The picture of the seat without Kanan started a swirl of worry and despair in the pit of her stomach. Something in her smile showed bittersweet when Kanan took his regular place beside her. “What,” he asked. “I clean up nice, don’t I?”

Hera had to admit he was right. In clean clothes with a trimmed beard, he was back to his vibrant self and handsome as ever. Since he put everything on the table, she could let her looks linger over him. As long as she’d set a course and nobody else was watching. Chopper had a pesky habit for snooping. She wasn’t about to submit to the judgement of an astromech droid.

“How are you feeling,” she asked after Kanan had settled into his chair and refrained from quipping something else ridiculous back to her. She could have answered that question herself after spending the night with him and watching him lug heavy scrap metal around all day. He was fine, in more ways than one.

Kanan bit back the automatic response, the one that would assure her he was better than ever, but he couldn’t lie to her. He couldn’t lie to himself anymore either. Every time she put her hands on him, her touch lingered long after she left him behind. Her warmer temperature and softer skin were just surface delights. She set his entire world on fire from the very beginning on Gorse, and the flame only grew from there. With nowhere else to go, he took a leap of faith on her, despite the uncertainty of her being there to catch him.

“I want to talk about us,” he said. His search for the right words felt like an agonizing eternity, matched only by Hera’s reticence to answer.

“I mean, are you hurt,” she said finally, in a quiet voice. She wouldn’t look at him for any amount of credits in the world. Her cheeks flushed and her pulse jumped a few hundred beats in seconds.

“I am hurt,” he said. “I just want to be close to you and--”

She pushed out a sigh so heavy she nearly clouded the windshield in front of her. “I can’t do this,” she said. Stonewalling him, but she stayed in the captain’s chair. It was an opening and he had to take it. For himself, and for her.

“Hera, just give me ten damn minutes,” he said. He’d never spoken to her in such a harsh manner. They’d had fights and bickered and exchanged heated words, but this was the first time he’d slipped and cussed at her. Even a mild curse was enough to throw her off. She looked over at him for a moment, his hands out in front of him in an emphatic pleading gesture. If the cockpit were big enough, he would have been on his knees in front of her.

“I love you,” he said. “I love you and I want to be with you and that’s it.”

“Kanan, I told you we can’t do this here,” she said.

“What? Is is because of Zeb?” She shook her head, but Kanan was already off to the races. “Hey, Zeb,” he called behind the cockpit.

“Yeah?” Zeb’s voice came from somewhere behind a bulkhead.

“Can you give us some privacy? Hera and I need to talk about a few things.” She gave him a look that blared you have got to me kidding me as he and Zeb shouted back and forth.

“All right,” Zeb said. “I’ll go count bolts with Chopper.” Kanan let for a few silent seconds go by before he turned back to Hera. “Now it’s just you and me.”

“So then, talk,” she said. She flipped the autopilot switch on, a symbolic gesture that told Kanan he had her attention, as much as she resisted the conversation she knew was coming. From the time she woke up alone in her bed after screwing Kanan, she had a sinking feeling she’d end up screwing herself. Feelings were a son of a bitch.

“I have been talking,” he said. “I’m the one doing all the talking here. I don’t know anything about how you feel. You come into my room in the middle of the night to fuck and then you leave. You want to feel me up under the coffee table but you won’t even let me hold your hand. I know I put a lot on you by saying the love thing but I don’t want or expect anything extra from you. I don’t need you to say you love me back. I just want to know that you could love a guy like me.”

With her arms crossed tight over her chest and body sunk back into the pilot’s chair, she looked smaller to him. Like she was a lothcat trying to flatten itself to avoid danger. “I didn’t bring you here for that,” she said.

“Hold on, now,” he said. “You didn’t bring me anywhere. I came here because you invited me. That’s the problem. You think about us separately. It’s you and me, never you and me.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

He sighed and readjusted himself in the chair. “I’m worried that you’ll never be able to make room for me in your life. Not just the guy you fly around the galaxy with. Someone to share your life with.”

She shook her head again. “You know what my life is about,” she said. “And you knew it when you came on board.”

“But don’t you want more than that?” His words and the nakedly earnest look in his eyes made a breath catch in her throat.

“I don’t think about it,” she said in a thick voice, like she was fighting tears.

“That’s total Bantha shit,” he said. “I see so much more when you look at me. You light up when you’re around me. Well, when I’m not pissing you off.”

“You’re pretty good at that.” The tears shone in her eyes but didn’t fall. There was no pink blanket to comfort her. Kanan knew what he had to do.

“It’s a lot to ask of you,” he said. “It’s a lot to ask of me, too. I have no idea what I’m doing. I had to unlearn 15 years of Jedi training just to figure out what to do with myself around a woman. I’m still trying to figure out the feelings part.” Now he felt the hot mist stinging in his eyes. “I do know that I can’t wait for another gang to beat the shit out of me to bring us closer again. If we’re going to be together it’s because we’re working this out. Together.”

“I’m really scared,” she whispered. “I’ve never said that out loud to anyone, ever. I just put my head down and keep going.” She looked over at him and he waved her to join him in the chair. She didn’t move. He could feel her energy changing by the minute as they traded what they hid deep inside their hearts. She was almost there. “Out of everyone I’ve met, I thought you would understand the most.”

“I get it,” he said. “I know you. It’s why I fell in love with you. I’m trying to tell you I’ll take you and everything that comes with it.”

“Kanan,” she said, exhaling a shaky breath. “I do love you. I never meant to make you doubt it. I just don’t know what to do with it.”

“Hell if I know, love,” he said. “I want us to figure it out together.” She bit her lip and hugged her arms closer to her chest. “Will you just get over here already?”

“Almost,” she said.

“You’re thinking about how being with me could comprise the mission,” he said.

“Hey,” she said, suddenly sharp. “I told you not to use the Force on me.”

He shrugged. “I swear to you, I’m not doing it on purpose,” he said. “It’s not something I can turn off. I can’t help but pick up on your energy right now. You’re practically on fire over there.” She tried to glare at him but the heavy emotions in the cramped cockpit turned her mean expression softer. “I don’t need the Force to know what’s important to you. I just know you now.”

“What do you think you know about me?” She’d asked the same question at the bar near Laramus. This time, it wasn’t an accusatory jab back at him. He was making a play for her heart; he needed to move the ball closer to the goal.

“I know that you’re strong and powerful and independent,” he said. “I know you don’t need me. I know you’re not looking for a boyfriend. Now I know that you love me.” He shrugged again.

“Kanan,” she said, much softer now. “It’s hard for me to think about things I want. But I want you.” What she’d said in their late night liaisons and clandestine touches finally came clear to him. “I can’t make promises--”

“I don’t need promises,” he said. “Here’s what I want. I want to wake up next to you, pour your caf in the morning, pull out your chair, hold your hand...and I need to know the story about the lamp.”

When she laughed the tears finally escaped from her eyes. “Damn,” she said, swiping at the tears coursing down her cheeks.

“I need to make a promise to you,” Kanan said. “I’m not going anywhere. For as long as you’ll have me, I’m right here.” Now he had her attention. She focused on him and let the tears fall in silence. “If I leave, I’m coming back. Or I’m taking you with me. You took me as I was, when I was a godforsaken mess. You got me.”

That was what it took to get her out of the pilot’s chair. She settled into his lap and into his embrace. Her tears dribbled down his neck as he pulled her closer. “Don’t tell anyone,” she said.

“About the crying,” he asked.

“Any of it,” she said. “It’s nobody’s business.”

He reached out a cautious hand to comfort her, remembering her warnings about lekku. It took an enormous amount of restraint for him to pat one lek. He must have done something right, because she burrowed into the crook between his arm and chest to get even closer to him. What a profound streak of luck for a formerly calamitous vagabond. He finally said all the right things, made all the right moves, and got the girl. He knew better than to let up now. He had promises to keep to her on top of dismantling the Empire piecemeal. Everything he asked for would come at a price. It would have to be paid another day. He handed the rest of his day and night over to Hera.

“You got it, love.”

[kaliori]

Bookends, Part 9

Kanan woke sometime later but too early to get up and start the day. He’d woken up in someone else’s bed many times before. Hera’s restless rustling beside him reminded him of where he was. It was the only time in his life when he wanted both parties to stick around for a while after the act.

Hera struggled to get comfortable on her half of the bed. As the captain, she enjoyed a slightly larger space for her quarters, but her bed wasn’t built for more than one person. She groaned into her pillow as she flipped over again.

“Hey,” Kanan said, barely above a whisper. He reached out to comfort her. Still almost asleep, he absently stroked her smooth, soft skin. Touching her like that stirred desire and tranquility in him in equal measure. Maybe they could go another round if he could stay awake...

Hera sat up suddenly. The breakneck change in mood yanked Kanan out of the beautiful moment he was having on his side of the bed. “What, what,” he said to her, scrambling around in the dark to find her hand, her arm, anything to hold onto.

She took a while to answer him, trying to control her breathing and trying to find the right way to tell him what he needed to know about Twi’leks that he hadn’t yet learned. It warmed her heart that Kanan tried so hard to please her, and while she knew welcoming him into her bed was a good way to start showing him her appreciation, she needed to approach uncomfortable subjects with care. Even when he startled her out of the first good sleep she’d had in weeks.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “It’s my lekku. They’re really sensitive.”

Another haunting memory of the dance club came back to him. A picture of the bastard pulling on Hera’s lek as they tried to leave. He had no idea how much pain Hera went through that night. He never would truly know. But when she tried as gently as she could to tell him “hands off” he began to understand a little better.

He drew in a breath to speak, but she cut him off. “You don’t have to apologize,” she said. “You didn’t know.” Even though she was next to him, skin to skin under the same blanket, she felt distant from him. He wasn’t supposed to be the one to cause her shock and pain. He promised himself to be the one to help her through it, if he couldn’t save her from it.

He sat up and gathered the furry pink blanket around her. Swathed in soft fabric and wrapped up in his arms was an unfamiliar comfort. She leaned her head on his shoulder and breathed deeply with him. Their chests rose and fell in silence. Kanan ran his hands over the curves of her body covered in heavenly soft fur. “This blanket has a story, I’m guessing,” he said.

She let out a tiny chuckle. “I bought it at a bazaar on Phaeda,” she said. “I hated the color but I loved the fabric. The minute I touched it, I knew I had to have it.”

“That’s it,” Kanan asked.

“What do you mean?”

“Well,” he said. “I feel like I don’t know that much about you. What were you doing at a bazaar? Do you like shopping? You just said you don’t like pink, but do you like other colors?”

She sighed and pulled the blanket tighter around her. “Do you remember when you first came here,” she asked. “And we’d talk for hours? Back when it was just you and me?” “And Chopper,” he added.

“He’s not much of a conversationalist,” she said. When Kanan didn’t laugh at her joke, some of her hopes began to sink. “You don’t remember?”

“I love every minute I’ve spent with you,” he said. “But I’m not lying when I say I feel like I don’t know you as well as I should. It’s my fault because I didn’t ask.”

“You never asked for what I didn’t want to say. I guess that wasn’t enough.”

“Baby,” Kanan said. He held her close and purred his words into her ear cones. “Don’t ever think you’re not enough.” He knew how to play her right in the heart and between her legs, and she was ready to let him have the advantage. At least a few more times.

He would give her what she wanted again. All she had to do was look him in the eye and lift an eyebrow. So she decided to give him what he needed from her: a story.

“Outdoor markets were one of the first places I started on missions,” she began. “Back when I first left Ryloth. Even before I had Chopper. Merchants always had good tips, and shoppers sometimes saw enough to help me find who or what I needed. I had a habit of buying stuff from vendors at the markets. I couldn’t leave without buying at least one thing, you know? Salt of the earth type people, local artisans and farmers and crafters who break the backs every day to make a few credits? How could I not help them out? Even when I had no credits, I would barter with food or water I had on hand.

“I tried to stick to practical buys like tea, food, basic stuff. This thing,” she said, stroking Kanan’s strong forearm through the blanket. “Came off a huge bolt of fabric at a stand on Phaeda. I still remember. It was the end of the day and the poor guy hadn’t sold a damn thing. He had bolts of fabric stacked floor to ceiling in his stand. The sun was still a few hours away from setting and the bright sunshine made that color nearly burn my eyes. The merchant called out to me and challenged me to touch the fabric. If I could walk away after feeling how soft it was, he’d give me the whole bolt for free. I told him it was no wonder he hadn’t made a sale all day. But he was right. I couldn’t talk myself out of having that blanket. Probably a bad idea to walk around with a bright pink wad under my arm that day, but I don’t know. It helps me sleep. It’s comforting to crawl into bed with something that feels so nice.”

Hera’s story lulled Kanan back to the edge of sleep. Her musical voice framed the story of an even younger version of herself that spread happiness deep into his heart. He wanted to believe she could be moved by beauty and mundane things. It meant he had a chance with her. He held onto her saying “It’s comforting to crawl into bed with something that feels so nice” as a mini motivational speech to give her his very best every day she’d have him.

She noticed he was fading, so she nudged him back to lie down. “What about the lamp,” he mumbled.

“Another time,” she said. He couldn’t fight sleep any longer. He’d just have to hope she would keep her promise.

[kaliori]

Bookends, Part 8B

[Author’s note: NSFW incoming!]

Hera reached out to him, closing her hand around his. “Come here.” She did things to him with just her voice that nobody among the parade of women he’d known before her could do. She could command him to go anywhere and do anything. When he finally joined her on the bed, he took the lead for a change.

He drew a path with his hand from her wrist to her arm, all the way up to her neck. His soft touch broke through the last pieces of resistance she had for good, replaced by goosebumps breaking out all over her body.

She pulled him in for a kiss. One by one, they eventually melted into one long kiss, breathing hard against each other while tugging on clothes that kept getting in the way. Hera pulled the elastic from Kanan’s ponytail, freeing his long hair. She wound her fingers through the strands as he pressed his tongue deeper into her mouth.

He moved down to nibbling kisses on her neck. She wanted to close her eyes and lean into it, but one nagging thing wouldn’t let her go.

“Wait,” she said. “I can’t do this.”

Kanan pulled back, nearly breathless from sucking on her neck and from the insistent swelling in his pants. All he could manage was, “Huh?”

She back smoothed the hair that had fallen over his eyes. “Show me what I’ve got,” she urged him. He took in a few gulps of air and followed Hera’s gaze between his legs.

Determined to give Hera everything she asked for and more, Kanan stood up to peel his clothes off. He watched Hera take in the view. She swept her eyes over his toned chest and down to his muscular thighs. She was pleased that she was able to make his dick stand up that hard already.

She spun her finger in the air, indicating for him to turn around. She confirmed her theory about Kanan’s tight behind from all those previous stolen glances.

He looked over his shoulder at her. “So,” he asked.

She grinned at him. “Very nice,” she said. She pulled the pillowcase thing she wore over her head and leaned back on the bed, stretching her arms over her head with a soft little sound in the back of her throat.

Kanan wanted to take that image and frame it. Their first time blew his mind and that started with a rush job in the dark. This time, he took a beat to appreciate what he had in front of him and what he had to do to get to this moment. He must have taken too long, because Hera’s hand moved over his, stroking his erection. They locked gazes for a moment, then Hera took him into her mouth.

He took in a sharp sudden breath as her lips tightened around his thick cock. He couldn’t find the words to describe what Hera was doing to him. He closed his eyes and gave her control of his body. Her hand squeezed around the base of his dick as she worked her tongue around the head. He knew he wouldn’t last much longer if she kept that up. He breathed deeply, anticipating his climax. He tried to warn her but all he could say was “Hera” before he released into her mouth.

She pulled away with a sneaky, closed-lipped smile. He clamored to apologize as he watched her swallow. “I’m so sorry,” he said. “I couldn’t…”

She swiped at the corner of her mouth with her thumb. “Trust me,” she said. “It’s not so bad.”

“You’re amazing,” he said. He held her face in his hands and kissed her. He eased her onto the pillows, laying her on her back. “Now it’s your turn.”

Since the day they met, Hera wondered many things about Kanan. If he, like the males from her past that got around, were mostly talk and less action. Each time a memory of their their first time together popped into her mind, heat spread all over her body. A much more intense reaction than the times when Kanan caught her holding onto her gaze of him for too long.

This was no mad scramble to fuck in darkness like before. Kanan held her so close she could feel his heartbeat. His soft yet firm touch on her nipple made her tense up at first, but as he moved over to the other one, she leaned into the warm tingling he stirred deep inside her.

His warm hand on her even warmer thigh nearly teased the breath out of her. His strength and powerful build were the first things that attracted her. The man she took to bed worked her to the highest arousal she’d ever felt with tender kisses and a featherlight touch. She couldn’t hold back once he slid his fingers inside her. She moaned his name and pushed his hand in deeper. Delicate hands worked wonders for foreplay. She’d have to show him she needed his powerful side.

They both breathed so hard they could only kiss for a few seconds before breaking to gasp for air. Kanan’s hand inside her plied waves of pleasure all over her body, building toward higher and higher crests. She grasped his forearm and nodded, trying to tell him that was it, but she wasn’t quite done. She climaxed harder than she could ever recall and Kanan didn’t stop.

Her body went slack in his arms and her grip on his arm loosened. She went almost silent and just breathed through the pleasure with him, looking up at the hair falling around his face through dreamy eyes. When another orgasm ripped through her body, she arched her back and buried her face in his shoulder to muffle her raspy cry out to him.

“Hera.” His response sounded both self-satisfied and apologetic. She turned her head to look at him. Her eyes were barely slits and she breathed heavy through her mouth, swollen lips parted. She said nothing to indicate she was listening. Her muscles still pulsed around his fingers for fuck’s sake.

“I’m so sorry,” he said. “I’m getting a really bad cramp.” She closed her eyes and managed a small nod. She shivered and breathed in sharply when he pulled his fingers out of her. He flopped down next to her on the bed. Hera stayed motionless, eyes closed, breathing evenly and deeply. After all that, with their pent up arousal satisfied and then some, he felt the exhaustion creep in. He thought she was asleep, but then he felt her hand brush his stomach.

“That was…” Her soft voice trailed off and he thought again she’d fallen asleep. “Unbelievable.”

He’d seen Hera in many different lights as they explored the galaxy together. She loved all of the faces she could put on: fierce, serious, calculating, even angry. Hera in bed next to him, teetering on sleep and uncomplicated by the world outside her door, was his new favorite.

He moved to get up. Her hand missed when she reached out for him. “Wait,” she said. “I want you to stay the night.”

“Love,” he said. “I’m getting up to turn out the light.” He switched the lamp off and returned to bed with Hera, where she was waiting to take him into her arms. He settled his face into her soft bosom to absorb her warmth and the comforting cadence of her heartbeat. She took a deep exhaling breath that stirred a few strands of hair over his face. In the darkness with her again, he silently asked the galaxy for just one more thing: to have her be there with him in the morning. He’d been waiting so long to wake up and see her next to him. He wanted her arms around his neck like this for the rest of his life. He knew he could never let her go again.

[kaliori]

Bookends, Part 8A

Hera had almost settled in for sleep when she heard another knock on her door. She chose to answer it instead of ignore it. Since Zeb went to all that trouble to prop her up, she figured it was worth an extra five minutes to reassure him she was okay.

“Zeb,” she said as she opened the door. “I’m fine. You don’t have to--”

When she saw the unexpected Kanan on the other side of the door, she blinked more than a few times to test if this was real or an elaborate fantasy her exhausted and stressed mind put on for her. His face showed no lingering bruises or other damage. He stood upright with steel-spined posture, not hunched over from the burden of broken ribs. Even his hair was neatly tied back in the usual ponytail. The only sign that anything could have gone wrong for him was the extra days’ growth of hair on his face. More than a week out of commission without shaving had almost filled into a full beard. Hera turned her head slightly to consider if she liked the new look.

Also, just having him there in her doorway in the middle of the night was enough to make her question what the cosmic forces of the galaxy had in store for her.

Kanan’s expression melted into a warm smile when he saw Hera was fine, albeit totally confused and almost robotic in her stance opposite him. “I’m glad you’re okay,” he said to her. “I’m sorry to come by so late. I had to see you.”

Say something for crying out loud, something deep inside blared at her. “You look...good.”

Kanan laughed at that. “Thanks, I think?”

With each sign of Kanan’s return to good health and humor, Hera slowly came to accept that this was no dream or flight of fancy. Kanan read her range of reactions through to the moment when she relaxed enough to ask him the question he was still trying to work up the guts to speak.

“You wanna come in?”

Do Hutts stink like death, he thought. Instead, he just nodded. He had a lot for her that night. He had to take it slow.

Everything about Hera came as unexpected to him. From the day they met when she dispatched a group of thugs on Gorse to the perplexing way she kept her distance from him despite their undeniable chemistry, Hera confused the crap out of him. Her quarters were more of the same. Not in size, but in appointments. One lamp with a low burning bulb lit the space. The painted shade cast long shadows across the space with its lines and patterns, and the small jewels dangling on the bottom edge of the shade twinkled like tiny stars in the room’s dusk. A length of garish pink fuzzy fabric spread across her mattress. Even in the dim light, the color seemed aggressive.

Her choice in nightclothes was another aesthetic confined to her quarters. She wore a shapeless thing that draped over her body down to her knees, leaving her arms and lower legs exposed. The sack-like garment betrayed no sign of her figure, but Kanan couldn’t tear his eyes from the contrast of brilliant red fabric against the cool tones of her skin. She was the sexiest pillowcase he’d ever seen.

Kanan looking at her like that set her heart racing all over again. She sat on her bed and patted a spot next to her, encouraging him to join her.

“I think I’ll stand,” he said, suddenly nervous and unsure as to why. He’d worked all this out in his head while he put himself together: he’d come to Hera and say his piece. He didn’t know what came next, because this time Hera didn’t put up a fight. She had him in her quarters and she just sat there, blinking at him occasionally while he fumbled through what he had to say.

“We’ve been in tight spots before,” he began. “I know we’ll be in tight spots again. I knew it when I signed up for this. What I didn’t know was…”

When he made it clear he wasn’t ready to join her on the bed, she shifted her weight to bring her legs up and to the side. He watched the hem of the red thing she wore creep up above her knee. Her steadfast gaze on him made him sweat.

“I didn’t think about how hard everything else would be,” he said. “Missions and fighting, no problem. Worrying about you and watching you worry about me is way harder.”

The dim light in her quarters gave everything a soft glow. As his sweet words melted into her ear cones, Hera began to smile for the first time in days.

“Okay,” he said. “I just wanted to see you and make sure you were okay.” Her expression didn’t change. Still interested, but waiting for something new. “Right. I said that already.”

Kanan had everything he ever wanted right in front of him; the woman he loved hanging on his every word. All he had to do was find the right thing to say.

“I couldn’t go another day without telling you that I love you.”

Hera’s eyes went wide. Still smiling, almost bemused, she asked, “Is that what you say to get women to go to bed with you?”

“I used to,” he admitted.

“Did it work?”

“Well, we already did that,” he said. “That’s how I know it’s real with you.”

The smile she beamed up at him reminded him of the first time hearing her voice. She lit up his entire world that day. She did it all over again that night.

[kaliori]

Bookends, Part 7B

Zeb paused between paths in the narrow hallways of the Ghost’s interior. It was late, but he was far from sleepy. His worrying over Kanan and Hera made it hard to shut his mind off long enough to get more than a few minutes of restful sleep. He knew what to do to help Kanan recover: check on him, reapply the bacta bandages to his head and ribs as the doctor instructed, give him enriched fluids to keep his strength up, repeat until he woke up.

He didn’t know what to do about Hera. She escaped the ordeal with far fewer injuries than Kanan, although she did a poor job of concealing the pain in her shoulder. She evaded Zeb’s questions from the minute she started running toward the Phantom. She kept her walls up on the silent, tense flight to the closest medical outpost she knew. She wouldn’t allow the doctor or the medical droid assisting with Kanan’s treatment to look her over, even as the ache seeped into her bones. The minute the doctor presented her fee for an emergency visit and Zeb saw the large number of credits due, he knew he would get nowhere in convincing Hera to take care of herself. It would take nearly all of their credits to settle the bill for Kanan’s treatment and medication. Nothing left over for an extra bacta pack or two.

The doctor piped up at Hera’s hesitation. “I’m a doctor,” she said. “That means I have to fix up your friend here. But I’m also running a practice and I need to get paid. How about you pay up, and I’ll tell the Empire that I never saw you.”

Hera put a stop to the fight that Zeb wanted to start right there in the makeshift med bay. She held out her hand to quell the rising tension. “We’re good for it,” she said. She motioned to Zeb to hand over the payment. Both glared at the doctor, who went from hostile to cheery once she got paid, and they glared on the way back to the Ghost.

Caring for Kanan turned out to be less about the time each of them spent with him to the time the crew had to kill waiting for him to wake up. Missions had to wait with an injured crew member on board. Hera’s communications with her informants went silent. Most of the time Zeb just watched Hera alone in the pilot’s chair, staring out into the blackness of space.

In the hallway, Zeb considered Kanan’s door. He’d gone in there a few hours earlier with another fortified drink to help Kanan heal. He had to peel the last of the used bandages from Kanan’s body. They were out of the bacta and Kanan looked no better. Zeb talked himself into accepting that he did all he could for his friend as he coaxed the fluid into Kanan’s mouth. Another visit would likely give him the same results; a depressing look at his broken friend.

He chose to go after the other nearly unresponsive one. Kanan might have been beyond the help they could give him, but maybe he could do more for Hera.

“Hera,” he said, tapping on her door. Only a few seconds passed before the door opened. He thought he saw a flicker of disappointment pass over her face as she looked out at him. Then, panic.

“Zeb, what’s wrong,” she said. “Is it Kanan?”

“Kanan’s fine,” he said.

She relaxed a bit against the door frame. “Well, you scared me,” she said. “You can’t just come here in the middle of the night like that.”

“Captain,” he said, indicating a serious tone for the conversation. “I mean no disrespect to you at all. Can I be honest with you?”

“Always,” she said, although her furrowed brow made him doubt it.

“I’m here in the middle of the night because I’m worried about you,” he said.

“Zeb, come on, I’m fine--”

“If you’re doing ‘fine’ then why won’t you talk to me,” he said. “You act like I’m not even there. You look at me like you can see right through me.” She looked away from him. “I know it sounds like I’m mad at you or I’m on your case but that’s not true at all.

“I know how strong you are,” he went on. “I’ve never doubted you. I’ll follow you into battle any day, because I know you’ll always have my back out there. But I also know that you’re not the kind of person to shut down and box us out.

He had to keep trying to reach her. “If it helps, seeing Kanan like that really scared me. Seeing you hurting like this scares me too.”

She finally looked at him, without warmth but at least interested. “I’m not lecturing you,” he said. “I’m just saying we’re still here, and we’re here for you.”

Each waited for the other to do or say something new. “That doctor was an ass,” Hera said finally. “I don’t know how you kept from punching her.”

Zeb had to laugh. “You earned the right ahead of me,” he said. He smiled at Hera’s lighter expression, not quite a smile but something that told Zeb he was close to getting the real Hera back.

“I’m going to bed,” Zeb said. “Don’t give up on us. We’ll never give up on you.”

Hera closed the door behind her to get ready for sleep. She held onto Zeb’s words about what the Ghost family meant to him and how each of them, Zeb and Kanan, had made their way into her life. Maybe her heart was more open than she knew.

[kaliori]

Bookends, Part 7A

Words came back to Kanan ahead of his other senses, then images that bled together in blurry vision. He went in and out of darkness, aware of pain and little else. Someone was always talking to him. Usually Zeb.

Attempts at speech ended in broken pieces of words. He willed a hand to reach out and confirm he was still among the living. Nothing in his broken body would respond in the few moments when he had some awareness of where he was.

He saw the world in streaks of color when he opened his eyes. He looked for some sign of Hera: orange pants, brown leather, green eyes. The best he got was Zeb’s purple fur as the Lasat stayed by his side and tried to keep Kanan awake until the Ghost could get them to a doctor.

Muffled, distorted speech gave Kanan clues as to where he was. He got pieces of sentences: how long, concussion, awake, broken ribs, credits, how much, take these. When he finally saw Hera, she was brushing off a medical droid’s attempt to scan her. He tried to get her attention by calling her name, but all that came out was an aspirated H sound before he slipped back into darkness.

That blackness took over and ruled him, accompanied by an overall dull sensation of separation from the rest of the world. If he could recall anything of his recovery from being jumped near Laramus base, it was the groggy brief moments between sleep when he tried to find a comfortable position in his narrow bunk. The numbness that took hold of his body dispatched the pain from his beating. It did not relieve the anxiety of a body under duress, working double time under the surface of desensitized nerves. When he was awake enough to move, he tugged at his clothes in a desperate attempt to take away the muggy fog clinging to him. Sweating, dizzy, and breathing shallow, Kanan fell into a panic. He grasped the edge of the mattress beneath him to try to get momentum. Get up, he begged himself.

He couldn’t, of course. Somewhere between wounded and medicated, he was no better than a useless lump in his own bed. Memories sped through his mind, colliding with his slow comprehension of what had happened to him. And Hera. Where is she?

He recalled his door opening and closing several times. Hera or Zeb would come in and kept the lights off, letting in only the light from outside his door to guide them. One of them would attempt to give him fluids to drink. Nobody would talk. After the door closed and sealed Kanan into darkness again, muffled voices outside the door would fade as Hera and Zeb left their friend to let the medication work on him, or as he fell asleep.

Kanan turned his head, a small gesture that sent him reeling all over again. Just a slight shift to look around the room made waves of nausea wash over him and turned up the ringing in his ears. But there was no pain. If he had enough awareness, he might have considered himself lucky.

The rest of his recovery ran a spin cycle through his fractured mind. The checkins. The bland drinks. The times when he cleared enough fog away to poke at his ribs and marvel at the lack of pain or any other sensation under his fingertips. But when the memories of the godawful club crawled back into his mind, he shrank into his mattress and gripped the metal bed frame. Not the memories of being close to Hera, holding her on the dance floor and offering her comfort on the cracked flats outside the club. Not even them arguing, which even in his state he knew he didn’t mind too much. Those thoughts were always chased away by the images of Hera in danger. Watching her stand up to the man in the club, Kanan knew she could handle herself. It was the way that he couldn’t see her when they got jumped and the way he couldn’t protect her with the barrel of a blaster nearly boring a hole in his vertebra. It was the look on her face he caught as he fell to the ground, like she would let the thugs tear her arm from its socket if it allowed her to jump on his body to protect him.

Almost as bad was watching her lose faith in herself as the mission unraveled. He knew her well after spending nearly every minute of every day together for months, so he knew the emotional suit of armor she wore on a daily basis. Simultaneously young and old, vulnerable and hardened, Hera walked a tightrope as their leader. She took on way too much in his eyes. All he wanted was to give her a hand; both his hand to hold and to help lighten her load a bit.

Hera scared the shit out of Kanan. Every time she picked up a blaster or threw a punch, his heart leapt into his throat. But he held back. She didn’t need saving. But he did need her, so much that he had to keep fighting. With her, alongside her, anything. As long as it meant she kept him around.

His heart pounded. He snapped awake again, eager to push the frightening dreams out of his head. He covered his face with his hands. Another humid fog covered his face, this time from his breath building inside his domed hands. He took a deep breath, testing his body to respond to a command. His chest inflated, painless. This time he could feel his muscles expanding around his ribcage.

He sat up on his own, slowly. His long hair fell loose around his neck and shoulders. The soft strands brushing against his skin sent a crawling sensation down his body. He went for the light and saw that nothing had changed around him. His quarters were still tidy and bare. A former prisoner of his own mind and body, Kanan stood on his own for the first time in days. His clothes laid on the floor in wrinkled puddles of cloth. He still moved slowly as he bent down to pick them up and dress himself, but his torpor wasn’t a side effect of the medicine. Whatever they put him on had worked itself out of his system. He couldn’t believe he was back after going through all that hell.

Zeb was the first one he saw when he emerged from his quarters. “Kanan!” Zeb said, almost bounding over to him. “How do you feel? Are you okay?”

“I’ve been better,” Kanan said to him. He took Zeb’s extended hand with a firm handshake. “I’ve also been worse.”

“Can I get you anything,” Zeb said.

“No no,” Kanan said. “I’m really okay. I just...I need to see Hera.”

Zeb nodded. “She’s still up, I think. I just talked to her.”

“Still up? Oh,” Kanan said. “It’s really late, isn’t it?”

“We’ll forgive you.” Zeb was all smiles. Nothing seemed to faze him since he confirmed that one of his best friends in the world was okay. Kanan looked at him, unable to hide his puzzled reaction. He’d let his intentions with Hera slip out. A potentially costly mistake. He waited for Zeb to be shocked at fraternization with the captain or other violations of Lasan Honor Guard protocol. After all, Zeb was a captain himself. None of this was proper.  

“You...don’t think it’s strange for me to ask about the captain at this hour?” Kanan tried to deflect some of the tension by appealing to whatever soldier sensibilities Zeb still had in him.

“Was it supposed to be a secret,” Zeb asked with a pointed look. He couldn’t help but smile. He knew before they did.

Zeb left him with an affectionate slap on the back. Kanan thanked the medicine that healed him, because even a friendly slug from Zeb could leave a mark. He went to Hera’s door, heart pounding all over again.

[kaliori]

Bookends, Part 6C

[Aka I wrote that note saying “idk when I can write again” and then I wrote again]

By now, Kanan was used to Hera’s urgency. Whether it was her at the helm of the Ghost hightailing it out of a tight spot or the night between them that refused to leave his memory, Kanan knew when it was best to let her drive.

She hustled him out the door and away from the club so quickly that he struggled to keep up at first, despite his longer stride. He didn’t need the Force to sense the white hot energy steaming from her body. She was pissed.

He waited until the club was far enough away that the thumping music faded into a dull sound behind them. “Hold on,” he said.

“We have to go.” Her voice took on an unfamiliar tone to him, like she was speaking from the back of her throat.

“Hera.” This time it was his voice that did things to her. Hearing her name on his lips usually thrilled her to the depths of her emotions, the places where she kept most of what she felt locked up tight. That night, facing a failed mission and yet another reminder of how the rest of the galaxy really saw her, she turned to one of the last people she knew she could trust.

Hera kept Kanan off balance all night, even longer if he counted the last few weeks between them filled with uncomfortable silences and truncated speech. He couldn’t in good faith call those words a conversation, when they talked at each other and most of it went nowhere. But when their eyes met in the desolate night between the club and the rendezvous point, she fit into his open arms just like they were made for each other.

She squeezed hard him around the bottom of his ribcage while he rubbed her back. He kept her close to him, taking great care to not disturb her lekku. “You’re shaking,” he said. He couldn’t hide his pounding heart from her snuggled up so close to him.

“I hate this,” she said. Her face buried in his shoulder muffled her voice.

His usual glib persona was gone. Kanan chose Hera over the years of isolation, repressed sadness, and detachment that molded him into the lost soul she’d found on Gorse. He was all hers and he’d follow her into a thousand more irritating situations as long as she held onto him. He told her all she needed to know about him with a warm, silent embrace, until he had to break the moment. “We should get back to the rendezvous point before Zeb thinks we’re in trouble,” he said softly. When she pulled away, he took her hand like she took his in front of the club. He gave her a smile before leading her back to the Phantom. The fake couple that entered the bar called it a night looking more like a real couple with nobody around to convince.

They made it far enough for Hera’s breathing to get almost back to normal and Kanan’s pulse to calm before Kanan stopped short, suddenly gripping Hera’s hand tighter than he ever had before. Something hard, round, and metal shoved into his spine. He couldn’t speak and could barely breathe from the pain and the surprise of being ambushed in the middle of nowhere.

“Where you lovebirds headed,” a voice on the other end of the blaster asked. Hera squeezed his hand back, keeping her eyes straight ahead.

“We’re not armed and we have no credits on us,” she said. “We’re not looking for a fight.”

A circle of large men formed around Hera and Kanan, while the one with the blaster stayed behind them to give orders. “You,” he said to Kanan. “Hands on your head.” Kanan reluctantly dropped Hera’s hand from his grip to oblige their attacker.

“Now you,” he said to Hera. “You’re the one who started the fight.” He nodded to two from the posse, who restrained Hera by her arms.

“Don’t try it, cowboy,” he said to Kanan, pushing the barrel of the blaster deeper. Somehow it found a nerve between bone and muscle. The pain and the warning was enough to keep Kanan at bay.

“My boss just wanted to buy you a drink,” he went on. “He’s rich and he knows how to treat a lady. He’s disappointed that you turned him down.”

“I wasn’t interested,” Hera said.

“Why? You got a boyfriend? Him?” He laughed and kicked Kanan in the calf to knock him down. Hera tried to break free from the thugs holding her back, but one twisted her arm behind her at a sharp angle.

Kanan went down hard but stayed down with the blaster trained on him. He held his hands on the back of his head to keep them alive. It was all he could do to keep from pulling his own ponytail out from his scalp from rage and worry.

“Because I don’t drink with impotent scum who send his boys to do his dirty work,” Hera spat.

The gang leader motioned to two others in the circle to point their blasters at Kanan on the ground. He turned his full attention to Hera. Just inches between them, he spoke to her in a menacing tone. “What you did goes beyond a simple ‘no thank you’. Your disrespect can’t go unpunished. You understand.”

“I understand that you’re as pathetic as he is.” She met him glare for glare.

“You know, I told him not to bother with you, but he insisted. He said he wanted the hottest one in the club. I told him you tailheads aren’t worth the trouble.”

As soon as Kanan heard that word come out of the gang leader’s mouth, his fingers twitched, ready to fight. Hera clenched her jaw, fighting back the urge to spit in his face. He watched her struggle against the thugs holding her back and her need to rip his teeth out. “Don’t worry, I don’t hit ladies.”

Instead, he went back to Kanan with a swift kick in the ribs. After a few more kicks, Kanan couldn’t get up to fight back. It was hardly a fair fight with him on the ground. Hera knew she was no good to him with a broken arm, so she dropped her head so she wouldn’t have to watch.

The others in the gang crowded around to watch their leader pound Kanan into the ground, blasters holstered to better enjoy the show. Hera’s captors kept their grip on her strong. With her head bent down and behind her, following the angle of her arm, she saw a purple flash closing in behind them.

She took a deep breath and braced herself for any residual jolts from the incoming electromagnetic pulse. Her captors went down in a sizzle of electricity. Hera rolled away from them and caught the blaster Zeb threw to her.

Zeb stood tall, projecting his leverage over the gang. “Back off,” Zeb ordered with his bo-rifle raised.

Hera fired first, a bolt right through the shoulder of the leader. He went down beside Kanan’s still body, roaring in pain and sending the others scrambling to draw their blasters. Flanked by the nearly 7 foot tall Lasat, Hera meant business. They had her outnumbered, but she had them outdrawn.

“Get out of here,” she told them. “10 seconds or I start shooting again.” Nobody stayed to test her, except for the leader cowering on the ground and suffering a charred shoulder. Hera plucked his blaster from its holster and left him alone in the dusty expanse of nothingness. To die, or to have his gang members collect him later. She didn’t care either way. Kanan and Zeb needed her now.

Zeb hefted Kanan into his arms as gently as he could. “What in hell happened out here,” he asked as they hustled back to the Phantom.

Nothing had gone right that night. A bad tip led to a failed mission. Vile men would always come back to remind her of how Twi’lek females were treated throughout the galaxy. The shock and horror of watching the gang beat Kanan nearly unconscious set her nerves trembling all over again. She shook her head at him, unsure of where to start.

She ran ahead when she saw the Phantom come into view. “Hera,” Zeb called after her. She didn’t turn back to look. She just kept running.

[kaliori]

A few things

1A. The Phasma book has currently left me rekt so I’m not sure how frequently I’ll be able to turn out new stuff as I progress through the book esp. before the Rebels premiere although with my husband out most nights at gigs over the next few weeks (equalling peace and quiet in the house), who knows! Pray for me either way

1B. I already have most of the main Bookends story mapped out in my head and I’m going to stick to it (for the most part) regardless of what happens in canon because I can

2. I’m so fucking happy/thankful/humbled to see 51(!!!!!) people have turned out for my silly fanfic and you’re all real people and not porn spambots which is all I get following me my personal tumblr and I’m way more active over there

3. It’s just really cool to be creating things again after years of not writing a single word of fiction so thank you all for giving me motivation to write again esp. lionesshathor who is A++++