#I have fun thinking that when she gestures while speaking she pushes levers and buttons to make the arm and hand move

[ndostairlyrium]

Uuuh I wanna contribute to the prosthetic arm topic too!!

It takes months (almost years) of research and testing before Ankh manages to craft a decent new arm, which is totally not functional as a limb per se but it's more of an aid if she's on a mission and needs stability in combat. Also it helps her regain confidence in her skills since she has to drop bow and arrows - can't really hold a weapon she can't feel the weight of.

Emotionally speaking, archery was something fundamental in her life, a talent that took years to be perfected. She feels a sense of emptiness, as if she has lost her identity and can't contribute to the world as an individual anymore. Working on the arm along with Dagna and Three Eyes helps her to cope with such a traumatic loss but like, even if she consumes herself on this task night and day she can't help but feel like she has no reason to do so. Most days she focuses on the new task to avoid to explore her feelings, so she overworks herself to the point she can't connect properly with her surroundings. She was sure she would die after walking through the last Eluvian at the Winter Palace, consequently sometimes she asks herself if that fate would have been better than living without what made her her. Luckily she has a strong support system, people that really appreciate her character outside what good she can provide to the world. Just like her new project, her mental health after Trespasser is a work in progress, basically.

Once she can grip to her resolve, she just starts to develop her ideas further. At first the arm is a regular prosthesis with two runes placed on the joints, to help her hold on objects, then it starts to become something more complex.

What she manages to do:

The arm is functional in a sense that it can be directed to move accordingly to the situation. There are buttons to push and levers to click if she wants to perform certain movements. It's like playing an instrument, using shoulder movements and the aid of her main hand to keep it in place whenever in need.

What she doesn't manage to do:

Handshakes, caresses and other gestures connected to physical touch don't seem to perform properly. Which is normal, considering a big portion of her arm is not linked to the brain. As I mentioned above, some movements can be performed only because of a complex system of levers, buttons and body movements that can symulate a realistic arm movements but the more Ankh goes further with the development, the more she starts to put aside what's realistic and shifts to functionality. You can see her perform strange dances from time to time so she could find a good balance, or just to bend the new arm to a certain degree.

About materials:

Since plastic and silicone aren't available materials and the ones already existing are heavy to say the least, it was hard to balance the arm in relation to Ankh's body weights system. This problem was partially solved by enchanting strategic points - the elbow and the shoulder in this case - as to make the structure less overwhelming and more manoeuvrable. The only catch is that a mechanical arm is still heavier than a regular arm, even if it's something not perceivable. The weight has still an impact on her body, so she has to be super careful to prevent overexhaustion. The part connected to the skin is composed by three different layers, one for elasticity, one for durability, and the other for comfort between skin and the hard layers. My math is terrible but I think it could be approximately 3-5 cm of thickness. The problem here is that the lighter the materials are, the more the arm is prone to damages. The structure in itself is designed to be practical for a very agile person - it has to be lighter - consequently it tends to malfunction from time to time because of sudden hits - or an overuse during reckless parkouring, knowing her << I'm not convinced about the harness' design but she definitely wears one to keep the arm in place, with a sewn on sleeve to make what's left of the arm feel comfortable with all that weight on.

She tends to wear it often, and she modifies it constantly, so to be prepared always if some asses need to be beaten <3 but also it improves her overall confidence.

[doctenwho]

Ten’s Proposal

Sure can do! I’m not the best at romantic stuff (I’m attempting to learn, and getting better I think), but hopefully it’s what you were looking for! Thanks for the request, and I’m glad you like the content!

Get ready for some Ten being a giant romantic and a bit of a nervous wreck! 

Warnings: None

Word Count: 3,557

Summary: Read the prompt above!

(Gif doesn’t belong to me, credit to creator!)

“Right then!”  

Your body jerked roughly as the TARDIS landed, feet slipping a bit as your hand shot out to grab one of the rails behind you to ground yourself. Not only had you not been expecting to land right then (the Doctor had given no warning), but you’d also been a bit lost in your own head.  

“We’re here,” the Doctor continued on with a grin, pushing a few buttons and pulling a lever on the TARDIS’s control panel, “c’mon then, a whole new planet for us to explore!”

You righted your footing, pulling yourself upright in order to glare at the Doctor halfheartedly. He turned towards you with an excited grin, but blinked when he caught sight of your glare.  

“Whot?” His eyebrow rose in confusion and his eyes tracked your movements of steadying yourself.

“A bit of a warning would’ve been nice,” you huffed as you moved to join the Doctor at the console, he gave you an apologetic smile before averting his attention back down to the screen on the TARDIS’s console. “Where are we exactly?”

“A small planet just beyond the milky-way. We’re about thirty-four thousand light-years, give or take, away from your earth.” The Doctor explained, turning the screen he’d been studying towards you so you could get an image of what he was talking about. A lot of what was written on the screen you didn’t understand, number higher than you could count and planets listed that you’d never even dreamed could exist.

“Thirty-four thousand light-years away from earth?” You gaped, trying to make sense of what was being shown, “how far is that?”

“Hn,” the Doctor paused, taking a second to do some quick mental math, “a light-year is nearly six trillion miles, and the milky way is roughly twenty-seven thousand light-years away from your earth, so, this planet would be... eh one point nine million nine hundred eighty-seven thousand three hundred twenty-six multiplied by ten to the power of seventeen miles? Give or take, once more.”

You watched as the Doctor ran a hand through his hair, almost as if he were trying to clear away the numbers from his brain, then grinned at you.  

“...what?” you couldn’t help but ask. Everything he’d just said had really gone in one ear and out the other. It was like he’d just started speaking Gallifreyan to you, when you knew he was still speaking English, just... really, really smart English.

“Alot,” he simplified for you with a fond smile, “a very, very large amount of earth miles.”

“We’re very far away,” you mumbled, eyes still locked on the screen, trying (and failing) to make sense of the large line of numbers.

“Incredibly far away,” the Doctor agreed with a laugh. “Now, we’re not here to talk maths, we’re here to have a look around, right?”  

You didn’t really say anything else as you watched the man stride towards the TARDIS doors and throw them open, he turned back to grin at you, then gestured you over before stepping out of the TARDIS, “it’s just as beautiful as I remember,” the Doctor sighed happily, before glancing back at you and holding a hand out as an invitation, “well, c’mon, (Y/N).”  

You barely even hesitated before moving to follow him out, peeking out the doorway before gaping at the scene before you and taking the Doctor’s proffered hand.  

He pulled you out, into his side so he could throw an arm over your shoulder, “welcome to Noelani, (Y/N).”

“It’s beautiful,” you whispered, stunned.

It was an ocean, a sandy beach, with a beautiful ocean.  

But it wasn’t anything like you’d ever seen before. The water was a rich purple, and the sand a stunning white that could put the Bahamas or Hawaii back on earth to shame. The sky was clouded, but two bright orange suns could be seen shining high above the waves.  

“It’s... it’s beautiful,” you stammered, because it truly was. It was like an edited photo from one of the beaches on your planet. Familiar, but completely out of your world too.

“Indeed,” the Doctor nodded, stepping down and dragging you along with him. “I’ve always loved coming here. It’s one of my favorite places in this universe, since no matter when I come the suns are always shining.”

The man paused, thoughtful before he added a slow, “I haven’t come around for a while, but it’s still exactly like I remember.”

“You stopped coming?” You asked as you fell into step with him, barely able to draw your eyes from the world around you. It didn’t look real, but then again, when did anything the Doctor showed you look real?

You couldn’t imagine knowing a place like this and not coming back—as of now, you’d surely want the Doctor to bring you back and you hadn’t even left yet.

“It’s been... fifty-seven years? Fifty-eight?”

“Wow,” you turned to look at the Doctor. The two of you were down by the water now, close enough to touch if you wanted, but you stayed back with the Doctor. He wasn’t looking at you, just staring out to sea thoughtfully.  

You stood beside him for a moment, letting him think, or whatever it was he was doing, before you cleared your throat, drawing in his eyes, “is it... okay to touch?”

The Doctor’s eyes followed your gesture downwards towards the water that was slowly climbing towards your shoes. If the water did prove to be safe, you’d probably take your shoes off and walk along the sand—or maybe in the water if it was warm enough to do so.

“Oh,” he looked from the water back to you, “oh, of course! It’s perfectly safe,” then, the Doctor was crouching down and dunking his hand into the water, whether to prove its safety to you, or to test it before you could in case he was wrong, you couldn't tell, “yes, it’s perfectly alright. No different from the ocean on earth.”

“Really?” you asked seriously, leaning forwards to dip your fingers into the purple water. It was perfectly warm—cool enough to be refreshing, but heated enough from the suns that you could jump right in like a regular swimming pool on earth.

“Of course,” the Doctor nodded, standing to his full height and wiping the wetness on his hand off onto his trousers, “well, a bit different.”

“Because it’s purple?”

“No-- well, yes,” the Doctor laughed lightly, “it is purple, but that wasn’t what I was going to say. This planet is really like nothing else in the galaxy.”

“What does that mean?” you asked curiously as you took your hand from the water and shook off the drops clinging to your fingers. The water came off just like regular water would, you’d kinda expected the rich purple colour to stain your hands.

“Everything is clean,” the Doctor explains, “it’s untouched by anything, clean of humans and creatures, and even Gallifreyians. There’re no lifeforms of any sort. No aquatic animals, no fish, or trees, no underwater plant life. It’s created its own ecosystem without really having the necessary components to create one. Technically speaking, nothing that breaths oxygen should be able to survive here.”

“How can it be untouched if we’re here?” you ask before jumping onto the next, more important question, “wait, how are we breathing?!”

“That,” the Doctor turns to you with a grin, “is the fun bit. It cleans its self. Algae unlike any other, on any other planet I’ve seen. It cleans and filters the water and air, turns any carbon dioxide that happens to be here back into oxygen like any other photosynthesizing plant. Even the sand gets cleaned, which I’m still not sure how that happens when this planet is inhabited.”  

The Doctor blinked in mild confusion before continuing on, “in two weeks, it’ll be like we never even stepped foot on this planet. It always reverts back to its pristine initial state.”

“That’s amazing,” you grinned, “it’s so beautiful here, why do more people not know it exists?”

“It’s hidden a bit,” the Doctor grinned in return, “a gem hidden behind the universe’s tourist attraction, like the milky way. I only found it because I was looking for it- well, I was looking for nothing, seeing where the TARDIS took me, but found it anyways.”

“The TARDIS made a good find then,” you gave the man a smile, taking his hand again after wiping any of the water that had still clung to you had even after the shake onto your shirt.

“She did,” the man laughed, “as far as I know, no one else knows of this planet, but that’s just going off of that I’ve never seen anyone else here before.”

“More ocean planet for us then,” you laughed as the Doctor started walking, pulling you along carefully.

“Yes,” the man smiled adoringly, “but we can’t stay here too long. We’ll run out of oxygen, since there’s only the algae here to filter the carbon dioxide back into oxygen. That process is a bit slower than us breathing though. We have... I’d say three days between the two of us of fresh air, before we’ll need to head off and let it revert back once more.”

“Three days seems like a good vacation,” you joked. The Doctor laughed, dragging his thumb along your knuckles where he was still holding your hand before he interlaced your fingers together.

“Shall we walk along the shore?” the Doctor offered softly, looking down at you fondly. He had a soft smile on his lips, and his eyes kept scanning your face, “there’s a peninsula a bit away but it has a beautiful view.”

“Sounds good to me,” you gave a supportive one shoulder shrug before smiling at him, “I’m going to take my shoes off though. I’d rather not have my shoes filled with sand.”

The Doctor nodded, releasing your hand so you could kick off your shoes and gather them up so they didn’t get lost or forgotten on this planet.  

“I’ll carry them,” the Doctor volunteered, taking them from your hands and holding them by their collars in one hand. He slipped his other hand back into yours, grinning at you before leading you along down the shore.  

You’d never seen anything as beautiful as this planet. Not on earth, not on any other planet the Doctor had taken you to in the years you’d known him. It was unique, and lovely and it made you feel special that the Doctor would bring you here. He’d spoken highly of the place since he’d brought you here, and it made your heart stutter in your chest that he thought you were worthy enough to show it to you.

The Doctor looked lost in thought as he led you along. Occasionally he’d glance in your direction, almost as if he were checking to make sure you were still with him, even though he was holding your hand. When you’d catch him staring at you, you’d raise an eyebrow in question, but he’d just smile widely and turn away without a word.  

The two of you walked for a while, but you couldn’t complain. The sand was soft and almost fluffy under your feet. It wasn’t as rocky and granulated as it was on earth, but fine and almost like a dense grainy dust. And even with the two suns shining down on you, you weren’t hot or sweating after all the walking.  

You were walking closer to the ocean, and every few minutes the water would crawl up and brush against your toes and the sides of your feet, but it was really nice. The Doctor was on your other side, staying on the dry sand since he hadn’t taken his shoes off.  

It wasn’t long until the peninsula came into view, just as the Doctor had described it. The purple water crashed softly against the sand; waves small but visible. You hurried your pace, dragging the Doctor behind you this time. You wanted to stand in the middle of the sand and see nothing but water in front of you and to your sides.  

You really wished you had a camera of some sort because it really was breathtaking. You knew people on earth who would’ve killed to see something like this. And you really weren’t sure anyone would really believe you if you told them.

“Do you like it?” the Doctor asked by your side when the two of you stopped moving. You turned your attention from the waves, looking towards him and nodding with a wide smile.  

“I really do,” you told him.

“Good,” the Doctor smiled, almost like he was pleased with himself. The two of you just stood for a moment, looking out at the sea.  

“You know,” the Doctor spoke, “there is a reason I brought you here...”

“Oh?” you looked back over at the Doctor. He’d set your shoes on the ground beside him, and his hand that wasn’t holding your hand was tucked in his suit jacket pocket. “And what would that reason be?”  

“There was something I wanted to ask you, I’m just not sure how to do so. I feel like it differentiates between planets, and I... well, I don’t want to do it wrong.” The Doctor turned towards you, tilting his head as he let your hand go. Before you could frown at him doing so, you were distracted by him stuffing the hand you’d just been holding in his remaining pocket.  

It looked like he was looking for something. Searching through his pockets—it wasn’t unusual for him to lose something in his bigger on the inside pockets.

“You can ask me anything,” you promised, watching the man closely.  

“I know,” the Doctor paused in his searching through his pockets to grin at you, “now, uh, as you know I’ve had a few companions through my life who choose to stay with me and travel through space and time. And as much as I love having companions with me, keeping me company, I’ve learned not to... get attached to humans. For obvious regenerating Time-Lord reasons.”

You weren’t really sure where this was going.  

“But I, well, the thing is, I’ve gotten a bit attached to you. Well, more than a bit attached. You’ve been with me for, well, for years now. You’ve been a constant in my life for so long now. I... well, I can’t really imagine my life without you. There have been very few people that... that I love, and you’re one of them.”

You didn’t say anything, letting the man sort through whatever he was trying to do. You were sure anything you said would’ve distracted him. So it was best to just let him do whatever he needed to do before you replied, or touched him or anything along those lines.

The Doctor looked down for a moment before looking back up at you. He pulled one of his hands from his pocket and took your hand into his once more, holding it tight and secure, but soft as well.

“You make me happy, and you’re always by my side, and, well, the TARDIS loves you too. You’re... well, you’re just perfect. You’re perfect and I’ve not thought about you as just my companion for quite some time now. I... I love you; I love you differently than I love my past companions.”

“I love you too,” you whispered, squeezing his hand softly.

“I know,” the man gave you a goofy grin, “I’ve known that all along, but you never knew I loved you in return. I have for... for a long time now.”

It made you smile that the man was saying he loved you. You’d told him you loved him when the two of you first started kind of dating—which was after about a year and a half earth time of space travelling together.  

The Doctor would never call it dating, but that’s what it was, whether he liked it or not. Maybe it was more courting to him, but whatever it was, it was as close to human dating as you could get. And you loved every minute of it.  

He’d never once muttered the words back to you though, not even the times you were sure he was going to say it back, or when he looked like he was biting his tongue to keep from repeating them back to you. He’d always had a sort of reluctance to saying anything overly fond-- like I love you, which you could understand. He’d probably said it too loved ones he lost along the way.  

You knew he loved you—but it was something else to actually hear him say it.  

“I should probably get on with it,” the Doctor mumbled. You eyed the Doctor hesitantly, curious but a little afraid of what could be coming next all the same.

He shook his head, as he cleared his throat, “it’s been a very long time since I’ve even thought about asking anyone this but,” the man suddenly dropped down onto one knee, managing to keep his hold on your hand, pull his second hand which had been tucked in his pocket the whole time out, and all without tumbling down, “(Y/N), my brilliantly amazing human companion, will you possibly do me the honors of marrying me?”

And it was then that your brain short circuited.  

In his hands was a ring. Small, but perfect. It had tiny little gems that you couldn’t really make out with the suns light casting through them and making them sparkle beautifully. The band was gold, but you were almost certain it wasn’t earth gold.

He’d just asked... he wanted to marry you. In that moment you didn’t know how to speak—how to express your enthusiastic agreeance to the proposal. You weren’t even sure you could form words beyond the unintelligible slur of letters falling from your mouth.

Marriage. The Doctor wanted to marry you.  

“I’m sorry if this was wrong for human ideations,” the Doctor mumbled, forcing you to blink yourself out of your excited daze, “I’ve only ever seen one romantic film from your earth, and I really tried to mimic it with the romantic setting and the ring and the monologue but if-”

“Yes.”

The Doctor froze, fingers tightening around yours for a split second before they relaxed. “Yes?” he repeated like he’d heard you wrong. He looked ready for rejection, even if you’d literally already said yes. He was still on one knee, staring up at you.

“Yes!” You gave a sharp, excited nod, which was followed by an almost frantic laugh. You reached your hand up to cover over your mouth, as if you could stop the unvoluntary sounds you were making, “yes. Yes, I’ll marry you, Doctor!”

It took less than a second for the Doctor to be up, pushing up into your space and grinning widely in excitement.  

“That was a yes!” The Doctor beamed, eyes lighting up in sheer excitement as he bounced on the balls of his feet where he was stood beside you, “you said yes! Oh, (Y/N), my love, you said yes!”

The Doctor slipped the ring he’d held out to you onto your engagement finger (on the wrong hand, but you’d fix it later), then he was cupping your cheeks and pulling you into a kiss you couldn’t be happier to accept.  

He pulled back in the same excitement he’d pulled you in with, eyes wide and adorning, and smile as bright as you’d ever seen it. You were sure your smile matched his almost identically. “You said yes,” he repeated, like he almost couldn’t believe it.

“I said yes,” you laughed, eyes watering as you looked up at the Doctor. His eyes were a bit wet too, but he looked more concerned over your damp eyes than his own.  

“You’re crying,” he whispered, cradling your jaw in his hands and swiping his thumbs under your eye lids to wipe away the tears.

“So are you,” you giggled, lightly slapping your hands on either of his cheeks so you could dry his tears as he’d done to you. “Happy tears,” you added as an explanation for the both of you.  

“Incredibly happy tears,” the Doctor gave a light laugh, “you’ve made me so incredibly happy, my love.”

“We’re getting married,” you dreamily whispered in reply. You still couldn’t believe it. You’d never really though the Doctor ever would’ve wanted something like this. Like marriage. And to a human no less.

“You’ll be my wife,” the Doctor agreed, eyes fondly settling on your face, “my beautiful wife.”

The Doctor pulled you into a hug, and you happily returned it, pressing the side of your face against his chest. He held you tightly, settling his cheek atop of you head, but you could almost feel him smiling above you. His hearts were sped up, excited and happy, and it made your whole being light up with warmth.

“I really do love you,” he whispered lovingly above you, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to the top of your head, “I’m so happy you said yes.”

“I love you too,” you reminded for the second time, grinning into the fabric of his suit jacket. “I always have, and I always will.”

<><><><>

Hope you enjoyed Ten’s overly excessive saying of the word ‘well’ while he’s nervous! As always, let me know if it wasn’t what you were looking for! I do hope I did the proposal justice, but I just don’t know with romance.

Oh, and Noelani means heavenly mist in Hawaiian as far as I know (from Google) and I thought it was an adorable name for the ocean planet. Now, as always, thanks for reading and new promps always appreciated!

[walkerwords]

“Firehouse Blues” Part 1 of 2 - Negan x F!Reader

PART II

Request from anonymous:  can you do a negan imagine where the saviors find a woman who's living alone in a huge building and has a lot of supplies and guns and the saviors try to take the supplies but she used to be a engineer and has a strong security system so no one can access the building. and one day she meets negan and agrees to a trade. thanks :)

Word Count: 3448

Warning: Swearing

Song I Wrote To: “It’s A Man’s Man’s World” by Jurnee Smollett-Bell

Note: Another two part request! I was originally going to post this as one, but I wanted to post something for ya’ll so here you go. I had a lot of fun with this one. Mostly cause I love writing flirty Negan! Part 2 will be up soon! Thank you!

Reminder: If you want to be added to my main taglist or individual lists, just let me know!

------

The first time you met the Saviors, you had given them a single warning. 

It was early morning when the trucks first rolled up to your firehouse. You had been living in the old fire station for about a year now and it had quickly become a fortress. With a mixture of scavenging and inventing, your home was not only well-armed but equipped with sophisticated security systems that included both machinery and the Dead. Being an engineer before the Turn, when you found the firehouse, it quickly became your new project. 

A multitude of traps, alarms, and mirrors was placed around the property. From certain vantage points, you could see every entrance and it would be a miracle if anyone or anything could breach your walls. The collection of Dead was your most recent idea and so far it was working. It had taken you a few weeks to get everything perfect, but soon enough, you kept at least ten Dead ones confined within the entrance area of the firehouse. If anyone was to get through the front door, they would have to get through a group of the Dead that you could release with a single pull of a lever.

When you heard the caravan of vehicles approaching your home, you acted quickly. With a few adjustments and two pulls of a lever, two large hoses deposited gasoline out front of the building, ready for you to ignite it if necessary. The entrance to the main yard out front was lined with two large fire engines that blocked the other traps that you had set up, two tripwires that would activate a loud siren, calling any Dead within a few miles towards the building. You were safe behind your brick walls, but your enemy wouldn’t be so lucky.

Sliding down the fire pole that was just off your makeshift bedroom, you crept towards the main area of the station. In the main garage, you could hear your Dead on the other side of the door as they waited in the administration area. It had taken you a while to get used to the noise, but now if you didn’t have the constant groans of your hungry companions, everything felt too silent. 

Climbing up one of the fire ladders, you looked through one of the windows at the top of the accordion door. In the bright sun of the morning, five trucks parked just behind the fire engines. Armed men and women exited the vehicles and gathered around your barrier, looking up at the firehouse in confusion.

You were aware that there were groups in the area. Some were considered safe havens, but of course, there were those who wanted what others had. Based on their weapons and how each of them carried themselves, you were certain they were the latter. 

You climbed down from the window and ran for your armory. You kept your weapons in many different places throughout the station, never all together in one place. In the garage was where you kept most of your smaller pistols as well as your explosives. Grabbing two pistols, you slid them into your holsters. You also grabbed your parabolic listening device. You had found the long-distance microphone on a run a few months ago. It wasn’t perfect, but it worked great when listening to conversations that were right outside your home. 

Making your way to the top level, you checked your traps along the way. Your Dead were secure, the tripwires fully ready, and every door was reinforced alongside automatic weapons that could be triggered with a few tugs of a rope. You then headed for your main “nest” as you called it. On the top floor of the firehouse, you had a full view of those who threatened your home and that is where you waited.

Peering through a rifle scope, you watched as a man with a rather impressive mustache exited the last truck. He walked with a swagger and a cocky grin on his face. He stared up at your fire station with gratification as if he had just won the lottery. Switching on the microphone, you held the disc towards the slightly open window and you listened.

“You know, when our new friend said this place was well-guarded, I thought he meant by actual men,” the man said. A woman to his left followed his line of sight with a frown. 

“Maybe he was wrong, Simon,” the woman said. The man, Simon, shook his head and walked between the fire engines, gauging his surroundings. You watched on in silence. 

“I don’t think so, Arat,” Simon said. “He said this place was a fortress. A fortress with guns,” he said with a wicked smile. At his words, your stomach turned. You knew who he was talking about. You had invited someone into your home a month earlier. His name was Justin and he had been starving, weak, and in need of shelter. He was a former Sailor with the Navy so you had offered him sanctuary. Clearly, that had been a mistake. The bastard had betrayed you and brought these pirates to your doorstep. “Spread out!” Simon ordered. “Find a way in.”

The men and women nodded to their leader and began fanning out over your property. You ignored the teams that went to the sides of the building. They would need a bulldozer to get through your doors and even then, you were prepared to take on any intruders. Your main focus was the man with the mustache. He seemed too confident in trying to take your place by force.

You watched him carefully, gauging all his reactions and how he scanned his surroundings. There was a moment when you considered taking him out. A single bullet to the heart would kill him and allow you to add him to your collection downstairs. However, you had a feeling that if you did, the cavalry would return and conflict was not what you were aiming for here. 

Simon picked his way towards the front of the building. You were surprised to see that he noted your tripwires almost instantly. He didn’t bother to disarm them as he stepped over each one and placed his hands on his hips. “I know you’re in there!” he sang, smiling up at the windows you sat behind. “Why don’t you come on out and we can discuss this like friends?”

Your eyes went to the gasoline that shimmered in the sun. Simon noticed it as well and toed it with his boot. “Careful, Simon,” Arat said, still behind the barrier the wires provided. 

“Something tells me, we aren’t going to get the full welcome wagon,” Simon sighed. “Okay then! Guess we will have to do this the hard way!” Simon then whistled and three of his men approached with a battering ram. You were annoyed when they also took care to avoid the wires. Clearly, you had to do a better job at camouflaging them. The men placed themselves at your front door, ready to take it down, but all you did was smile. Reaching over to your left, you pulled up on a yellow-painted-lever and released your Dead.

As soon as the ram broke down the door, ten lumbering Dead men and women attacked your intruders. You heard the screams first. Two men went down as the Dead converged on them. “Fall back!” Simon yelled, running back to avoid gnarled hands and teeth. In his hurry, he didn’t avoid the wires this time and instantly your home lit up with a fire siren. 

Simon and the others panicked as the Dead began appearing around corners. You had purposefully baited them with dead animals whenever you could. You found the Living avoided highly populated areas of the Dead so it played in your favor. Panic ensued instantly as the men and women retreated to their vehicles. You pushed open your window and leaned out slightly, making sure Simon could see you. Meeting your eyes, he glared, cursing. You smiled widely at him and then lifted your middle finger to the sky.

“You might wanna hurry up!” you hollered at him, “I don’t think they’ve eaten in a while!” you shouted, gesturing to the Dead that stumbled towards his people. Simon looked as if he wanted to shoot you right there, but he made the smarter choice and ran for his truck. 

“Go!” he yelled, jumping into the passenger seat and slamming his hand against the roof. The trucks raced away from your home, firing at stray Dead as they did. You couldn’t help but laugh as you watched them flee. However, it was then that you realized you had to reset all your traps and you sighed in annoyance. The Dead would be easy to replace, but it was always a hassle to reset the wires and disperse the hungry bodies that surrounded the area after the siren. 

Speaking of which, you ran to the other side of the room and slammed your hand against the emergency shut-off button, turning off the deafening sound. Listening to the increased groans of the Dead, you picked up a length of chain that hung on a hook. “This is gonna take all night,” you said with a deep sigh, but you knew it was worth it.

You were considering adding more than ten this time. The only thing that would make the situation better was if you could get your hands on Justin and hang his traitorous ass on the front gate as your first warning. Perhaps one day you would get the chance, but for now, you had work to do. 

--------

It was two months later when you finally met the man in charge.

You were on a run for parts to fix a radio you had found in the boiler room when you heard the sound of clashing metal. Running towards the sound, you saw a supply truck tipped over on its side and the Dead circled it like sharks after prey. You thought about turning away. It wasn’t rare for people to come through your area of town. They would get into rough situations and either they lived or they didn’t. You never felt as if it was your duty to intervene. However, when you saw who exited the truck, you reconsidered. 

Climbing out of the passenger side window, a tall, handsome man slid to the ground. In his hand, he held a barbed-wire-wrapped baseball bat, and as soon as he got his bearings, he swung it, crushing in skulls immediately. You watched this man fight through the small herd of Dead as they attempted to make him their lunch.

His leather jacket was splashed with black blood and it seemed as if he was limping heavily. You figured he was injured from the crash, but it didn’t seem to stop him. It was clear to you that he was a survivor and that was what made you pull your weapon. 

You ran towards the man, firing on the remaining Dead. He turned to you in surprise before going back to swinging his weapon. Neither of you spoke as your dispatched the rest of the corpses. You then found three feasting on a body that hung limply out of the truck’s windshield. You pulled your knife and took them out, stabbing each of them in the back of the head.

When all was quiet, you turned to find the survivor bent over, leaning on his bat for support. “You alright?” you asked, slightly out of breath. 

“Am I alright?” he asked, slightly amused. “Shit, Darlin’, you’re the one who went all fucking Rambo on these dead assholes. I am more than alright considering how much badass I just witnessed,” he said and you found his deep voice incredibly soothing, even when he was swearing like a sailor. 

“Your injury,” you said, pointing at his leg, “is it a bite?” 

“Nope, just your average big ass cut,” he said, pulling up the leg of his pants. The wound looked deep, most likely from a piece of metal. Looking around, you made a quick decision. 

“I can patch you up if you want. My place is just around the corner,” you said, already regretting it. He looked at you for a moment before shrugging. 

“Figure I don’t have any other options,” he said, “Lead the way.” You went to his side and pulled his arm around your shoulders, giving him support. 

“Ya got a name?” you asked as you pulled him towards your firehouse. 

“Negan,” he grunted, clearly in more pain than he first led on. “And what can I call you, my white knight?” he asked, smiling down at you. 

“(Y/N),” you said, “and I’m no white knight. Just figured you’ve already had a shitty day. No need to make it worse.” Negan laughed, a broad smile encompassing his bearded face. 

“I’ll take it,” he said and you smiled slightly. You took Negan through a back alley and then down the main street that led to your home. As you got closer to the fire station, Negan swore under his breath. 

“What is it?” you asked, suddenly on alert for any danger. 

“You’re her, aren’t you?” he asked. 

“You’re gonna have to be a bit more specific there, bud,” you said, hauling him down the pavement. 

“The firehouse chick,” he explained. “My men tried to take this place a couple of months ago and you unleashed a shit ton of corpses on them!” he said, extremely exuberant. “Simon said you were a spitfire, guess he was right after all.” Hearing Simon’s name, you jerked away from Negan, throwing him to the ground. “Shit!” he swore. You pulled your pistol and aimed it at his head. “Whoa there!” he said, raising his hands.

“Give me one reason why I shouldn’t shoot you and mount your head on my wall?” you asked him, releasing the safety on your weapon. 

“How about the fact that you’re all about defense and not offense?” Negan offered as he stared down the barrel of your gun. 

“And how would you know that?”

“Simon said that everything that happened that day was all bells and whistles. Shit worthy of a badass and a badass you are,” Negan said. 

“Your men tried to rob me, take my weapons, and they didn’t seem to care about whether I had people inside,” you told him. 

“And did you? Have people?” he asked, his eyes flashing between the gun and your face. With a sigh, you dropped the gun.

“No, I prefer to be alone. Tried to have someone with me once and well, he went and told your boy Simon about my place. Haven’t seen him since, but I plan to gut him from head to toe when I do,” you said, holstering your weapon. “Do I have to do the same to you?” Negan grinned once again. 

“No, ma’am,” he said, wetting his lips with his tongue. “I’m quite fine with whatever you decide to do with me.” You rolled your eyes at his innuendo. 

“If I bring you inside, are you gonna try to take my shit?” you asked, your hand still resting on the pistol at your side. 

“Wouldn’t dream of stealing from the woman that is offering to nurse me back to health,” he said, tilting his head to the side. You offered your hand to him.

“I’m holding you to that,” you said and he took your hand. You helped him to his feet and resumed your earlier position. “I meant what I said about mounting your head.”

“I have no doubt that you did,” Negan said. “All the more reason for me to behave,” he said with a wink and you tugged him along with a jerk that had him tripping on the buckled sidewalk. 

------

Arriving at the station, you took him through the side entrance.

Negan leaned against the brick wall as you unlocked the steel door with a series of latches and the help of a small crowbar. “What the hell did you do before all of this? CIA?” you looked up at him, annoyed. 

“I was an engineer, genius,” you explained, and with a kick, the door opened. You grabbed his arm again and hauled him into the building. 

“Yeah, I guess that makes more sense,” Negan said, leaning heavily on you. You closed up behind you and then took Negan down the hall towards the stairs. 

“If you fall, try not to take me down with you,” you said. 

“Have some faith, Darlin’,” he said as you started to ascend the stairs. “So, why a firehouse?” he asked. 

“It was convenient,” you explained. “And I like the area.” 

“Prime apocalyptic real estate, huh?” he joked. 

“Something like that,” you said as you finally made your way to the top level. You dragged Negan over to your bed and dropped him. “You’re a lot heavier than you look,” you panted. 

“It’s my big...personality,” he said with a suggestive smile. 

“More like your big ego,” you said before heading over to the cabinet on the wall. Negan peeled off his jacket, dropping his bat by his feet. You grabbed your first aid kit and a bottle of water and went back to him. Negan leaned back against the wall and you sat at his feet, prepping a bandage and antiseptic. “Roll up your pant leg,” you said. “And no, you do not need to take your pants off,” you said before he could say the lewd remark that you knew was on the tip on his tongue. 

“Damn, you’re good,” Negan said, but did as you asked. Placing a towel under his calf, you cleaned the wound the best you could. You were right before, it was pretty deep.

“Needs stitches,” you said, grabbing the sewing kit. 

“Go for it,” Negan said, placing his hands behind his head. As you stitched his wound closed, he almost seemed content with the situation. 

“You don’t get a lot of downtime, do you?” you asked. 

“How can you tell?” he asked with a chuckle.

“Because you’re practically asleep while I tug your flesh back together.”

“I got people to lead,” Negan explained. “Doesn’t allow much leisure time.”

“Right, the people that you lead to steal the supplies and homes of others,” you said bitterly as you soaked the freshly stitched wound with alcohol again.

“We all do what we have to in order to survive,” Negan said, his tone more serious. 

“You don’t have to be a looter,” you said, wrapping his leg. You tightly secured his wound and then gathered up your supplies. You gave Negan the water and got up, turning your back on him. 

“Why are you alone?” he asked after a few minutes. You leaned against one of the steel columns and stared at him, trying to make your mind up about the man before you. 

“I stopped trusting people years ago,” you told him, “And every time I decide to try it again, they screw me over. No people, no problems.”

“Sounds lonely,” he said, his eyes softening. 

“You get used to it,” you said, pushing off the column and going over to your work desk, fiddling with pieces of tech. You were bent over the radio, trying to rewire it when you felt his presence behind you. “If you rip your stitches, I won’t redo them.” Negan laughed and took a seat in the chair by your desk. 

“I want to offer you a deal, (Y/N),” Negan said, watching you with curious eyes. 

“I nearly killed your man, Simon, what makes you think I want to make a deal with you?” you asked. 

“Look, Simon, he means well...sometimes and while he is my right-hand, he’s not me. My men do many things in my name, but when it comes down to it, I’m the one who should be shaking hands and kissing babies.”

“And that’s what you want to do with me?” you questioned. 

“I think you and I can have a very beneficial relationship,” he said, running his hand over his chin. “Strictly professional, of course.”

“Of course,” you mocked. “Negan, I appreciate that you want to make some kind of deal, but I don’t deal with people that prey on others.” Negan leaned forward. 

“Darlin’, I am more than happy to go by your rules,” he said slowly, “but I want you to hear me out. Who knows, maybe you’ll find I’m not that bad after all.” You leaned towards him as well, staring him down. He glanced down to your lips. Quirking a brow, you smirked.

“Don’t hold your breath, Darlin’.” 

TAGS: @thanossexual​ 

[spoon-writes]

Ends of the Earth | Chapter 23

Fandom: The Mandalorian

Pairing: Mando x OC

Read on FFN or AO3

Summary: When Sinead's husband is ripped from her, she escapes the Hutt Empire and goes on a quest to find him. Since being a runaway slave in the Outer Rim isn't exactly easy, she makes the Mandalorian an offer he can't refuse, and soon they travel across the galaxy looking for her missing husband.

Chapter index

Chapter 23 - Red Vekkass

Sinead was about to throw up.

Gripping the armrests so hard her knuckles turned white, she took a deep breath through her nose. This was it. The old mining station was a pinprick of darkness before the enormous gas giant which bathed the cockpit in a deep orange glow. They were too far away to be detected by scanners, but the space surrounding the station was surely filled with traps. One meter too far, and they would be shot down.

She was being pulled in two different directions, shaking with anger and grief while also wanting nothing more than for Kyen to hold her again. She missed him so much it hurt.

"How do you wanna do this?" Mando turned in his seat to look at her. She wished he wouldn't.

She didn't dare open her mouth, so she just shrugged. All higher brain power had been rerouted, circling around Kyen like a pack of vultures.

"I can try pinging them. Keep out of range of the artillery."

"Mhm."

His hand hovered above the lever for a moment before pushing it down. The ship crawled forwards. The gas giant grew until it filled the whole galaxy. A light on the control panel started blinking.

Mando waited for a couple of seconds before a disembodied voice filled the cockpit.

"The fuck you want?"

Sinead let out a giggle that only bordered on hysterical.

Mando cleared his throat. "I'm looking for Red Vekkass."

"Yeah? Well, you better turn round and piss off before I turn that piddly little bucket into space debris."

"I need to speak with Red Vekkass."

"Told you to fuck off-"

"My name is Sinead Cade." She hadn't even realized she had opened her mouth. It felt like someone had taken control of her brain. "I need to speak with Red Vekkass. I knew him before Loovria, and I've spent the last five years looking for him."

It felt almost wrong to say her name out loud like that. She was so used to aliases and convenient lies that baring herself felt ... sacrilegious in a way.

There was an awful silence that lasted for minutes. She held her breath.

Finally, a new voice came over the comm, deeper and more authoritative. "Roger that. Head for the hangar. One wrong move, and we'll blow you to stardust. Over and out."

For a moment, neither of them moved.

"I guess we just ..." Sinead trailed off. Her heart was pounding.

The ship started moving at a slow speed. Mando's hands danced across levers and buttons. If the station began firing, they would have to dodge at no notice. The pinprick grew into a proper station; it was shaped like a sphere and tapered out into a point just above Dilo’s swirling surface. Narrow walkways shot out from the lower part of the station where ships could dock. They were all empty now.

"You ready?" Mando asked.

"Yes." No. She had never been less ready in her entire life.

The Crest passed through the magnetic field that protected the hangar and touched down between many smaller ships. Through the window, Sinead saw a group move towards the ship, and she strained her eyes to see if Kyen was there. He wasn't. She counted eleven blasters between eight sentients.

The child was sleeping in his seat and didn't stir when Mando picked him up and carried him to the safe room. Sinead tried not to think about what would happen to him if they didn't come back.

The ramp had never moved slower. She was ready to jump out of her skin, while Mando stood still as a statue.

The posse held their weapons at the ready as Sinead and Mando came down. Had Kyen not told them who she was?

"I'm here to-"

"Yeah, we heard you on the comm," a hulking mass of a Nikto said, his voice so deep Sinead felt it reverberate in her chest. "Follow me. Don't try anything." He sneered at Mando, whose hands inched imperceptibly towards his blaster. Sinead tried to catch his eyes through the helmet and shook her head once. They could not afford to start a fight with a bunch of pirates. She had come too far to die so close to the goal.

A large Twi'lek with a gash across his forehead scowled at them.

Flanked by the pirates, they were led through the station. A sour smell of unwashed bodies made her stomach churn, and she felt like she really had to throw up. They passed rooms filled with weapons or cargo, tables strewn with bottles, and food left out to rot. How could he live like this? It didn't make any sense.

Mando kept bumping against her, his head darting around. If she had had any room in her brain left over, she would have noticed the tension coming off him in waves.

Finally, the Nikto stopped in front of a thick blast door.

"Boss' in there."

Sinead swallowed thickly.

This was it.

The door opened.

She stared.

Laughter bubbled up from deep in her chest with the sheer unreality of it all. Her brain desperately tried to make sense of what she was seeing.

"Sinead, what are you-"

"That's ... that's not Kyen."

Saying it out loud broke the spell, and she fell silent, a hollow feeling in her chest.

The man sitting in front of her was human, but that was where the similarities between him and Kyen ended. Where Kyen was tall and broad-chested, with a round freckled face and deep green eyes, this man was all sharp edges and wiry limbs, small eyes peering out from a gaunt face. A scar ran from the bridge of his nose across his forehead and disappeared into short dark hair. He sat on an ornate chair, just one gilded filigree away from being a throne.

"Who are you?"

He smirked at her. "You said so yourself. Not Kyen." He leaned back in his throne. "Name's Red Vekkass, but I know you already knew that."

"B-but how? Why ..."

"Sit down, and I'll-"

"No!"

Behind her, the pirates jumped, and one drew his blaster. A hand landed on her shoulder and pulled her back.

"Calm. Down," Mando hissed.

She took a deep breath. "I want to know why according to records on Loovria, your name is Kyen Beck."

His grin grew, flashing a row of yellowing teeth. "Funny story, that." He looked behind her and yelled at the top of his lungs, making her jump. "EVERYONE! GET THE FUCK OUT!"

The Nikto took a step forwards, glancing at Mando. "But Boss, don't you think-"

"Out. Now."

They filed out until only Mando and Sinead were left. The Nikto was the last to go, snarling at Mando as the door closed.

Vekkass crossed a leg over the other, silent for a long moment as he regarded them both. "I knew about you," he pointed a dirty finger at Sinead. "The Mandalorian is a surprise."

A scream tried to crawl up her throat, and she took a deep breath through her nose. "Why-" voice barely shaking- "do you ... or did you go by the name Kyen Beck."

"Knew him."

"When?"

"Sit." He gestured to a hard-backed chair. Now that she could focus on other things besides the man in front of her, she realized they were in what must have been the mess hall. Two long tables had been pushed against the wall to allow a sort of runway with the throne at the other end. She didn't remember walking across the floor.

She threw herself into one of the chairs, gripping the armrests to keep from launching across the room and throttling Vekkass. Mando remained stubbornly standing behind her.

Vekkass lit a cigarra and took a long drag. "Met him on a moon in the middle of nowhere. The Empire had us working in a mine-"

"He was on Celvalara!" It came out in a rush. It hadn't all been for nothing.

"You've been? My, my, what busy bees you are." A bit of ash fell from the tip of the cigarra. "But yeah, we were on Celvalara. Shared a bunk, if you can call two stone slates a bunk. You could say we were buddies, as much as slaves can be friends. I guess you know all about that." He grinned at her.

Sinead kept her face carefully neutral.

"Worked the mine together with all the other poor bastards. Dunno what for, but those bucketheads worked us like akk dogs. And through it all, Kyen wouldn't shut the fuck up about you."

A small nugget of warmth filled out some of the emptiness. Kyen felt closer than he had been these last five years.

"Don't know if you noticed, but the Empire wasn't doing too hot in those days. People heard things. Me and Kyen, we talked about escaping."

"Did you?" Mando said. Sinead had almost forgotten he was there.

"You could say that. The Empire had all but fallen to pieces when we got the chance."

"That still doesn't explain why records on Loovria-"

"Back when shit really hit the fan, me and Kyen and a couple of other guys stole a shuttle to the planet. Forget the name-"

"Luria," Sinead said in a carefully measured voice. Her nails dug into the wooden chair.

"Right, Luria. The bucketheads weren't too happy about us leaving, even though they hadn't heard word from command in days. We figured it was better to split in case the Empire suddenly got a mind to follow. Back then we didn't know the Empire had fallen." He took another long drag of his cigarra. "Got picked up by some New Republic cruisers out by Atravis. I've had a bit of fun in my youth, figured Beck wouldn't mind me borrowing his name for a spell. He seemed like a nice enough fella." Another yellow-teethed smile. "Seemed like the New Republic officers wanted to make a quick cred, so they dropped me off on Loovria instead of taking me in. The name sorta stuck, never really got the urge to correct them."

So all of this was because of a couple of New Republic assholes who'd rather make a few extra credits than protect the people they had sworn to help. Although Vekkass seemed more like someone to protect from.

"Honestly, never thought you'd come knocking. You're lucky I remembered your name, or else you'd be space dust right about now." He waved the cigarra through the air. "Was under the impression you were still stuck on Tatooine."

"Sriluur."

"Right." He watched her for a long time, head cocked to the side. "Didn't know palace slaves could even get married."

Behind her, Mando's hands balled into fists.

She shrugged. "What the boss don't know, the boss don't mind."

Vekkass let out a bark of laughter. "Guess that's true." He turned his eyes on Mando. "You, on the other hand, I've heard a couple of things about. Like how you ambushed my people on Alpha. What did you do to the kid?"

What kid? Sinead turned to look at Mando. She hadn't even asked what had gone down on the station, too caught up in her own stormy mind.

"He attacked me. Did what I had to do," Mando said flatly.

"I see. Doesn't really matter, was gonna get rid of him anyway, so I guess you spared me a headache." He watched them both, waiting for their reaction. Sinead had to suppress a shiver.

"When was the last time you saw Kyen?" Mando asked in the same emotionless voice.

"On Luria, as I said."

"You know where he was heading?"

There was a subtle gleam in Vekkass' eyes, "I might. First, I need you to do something for me."

Of-fucking-course.

"What?" Sinead said between clenched teeth.

"Need you to find someone who used to be a part of my crew."

"What did he do?"

Vekkass flicked the cigarra onto the floor where it lay smoldering. "I thought bounty hunters didn't care about that."

A tension headache had grown slowly from her temples until it felt like her head was stuck in a vice. "I'm not a bounty hunter."

"But he is. Looks like it, anyway." He looked Mando up and down. "He was supposed to meet up with the crew after a job. Problem is he never showed. And he had all the loot.

"You think maybe he got picked up by the New Republic?" Sinead said.

"That's what I assumed until I got word that he'd been spotted on Trillu. Not as dead or incarcerated as previously thought. I want you to find him, bring him back with whatever loot is left. Or kill him. I don't really care as long as I get what’s mine."

Sinead stopped herself from laughing out loud. She wouldn't be surprised if the clothes on his back had been pilfered off some poor bastard. "Why haven't you gone after him before?"

"Can't really spare the manpower, can I. Was about to send for a bounty hunter when you two fell into my lap."

"I'm not with the guild," Mando said.

"Does it matter? I don't care who you are, as long as you get it done. And when you come back, I'll tell you where Beck was headed."

Sinead bit down on the inside of her cheek so hard she tasted blood. She didn't want to do this. She didn't want to travel across the galaxy on the trail of another lost soul. Hopping from system to system, asking strangers for information, following breadcrumbs that only led to dead ends.

She just wanted Kyen.

"He's probably long gone by now." Mando's raspy voice acted as an anchor and tethered her to the moment.

Vekkass pulled a small object out of his pocket and threw it to Sinead. It was a tracking fob. Mando gently took it out of her hand.

"I'm sure finding one man won't be a problem. You've come this far," Vekkass said and sat up on his throne. It was clear the audience was over.

"What's his name, the man we have to find?" Sinead's voice sounded strangely dulled.

Vekkass paused for a moment, thinking it over. Then, "Jami something-or-other. Twi'lek. A slippery little devil, so your best bet is probably taking him by surprise. Otherwise, he might slip away, and then no Kyen for you." He grinned again, a strange jerk of the lips like a wild animal showing its teeth. Leaning to the side, he raised his voice. "Brex!"

The door shot open, and the Nikto came barreling in. "Yes, Boss?"

"We're done here. Take them back to their ship and let them leave." Vekkass gave Sinead a final look. "Good luck."

The walk back to the ship was done in complete silence. Sinead curled her hands into fists so hard her nails left half-moons on her palm. It was surreal boarding the Crest. It felt like they'd been gone for days.

The child still slept in the saferoom, and Sinead stopped to watch him while Mando climbed into the cockpit. The child's small face twitched in his sleep. She reached out and touched his hand that poked out between two folds in the fabric.

A vibration went through the ship when the engine came to life, and she left the child and crawled into the cockpit. The Crest was surrounded by pirates who watched with suspicious eyes as it rose from the platform.

"You think they're gonna let us go?" Sinead sat down in her seat.

"If they wanted to kill us, they would've already done it. I think Vekkass was being truthful. At least about that."

"Hm. It's somehow easier imagining Kyen as a pirate than me actively working for one."

The Crest soared through the blue electromagnetic field and was finally free, but the shadow of the mining station seemed to cling to it like an oil-spill.

"You know, we don't ... we don't have to do this." Mando didn't turn to look at her as he spoke.

"What's the other option? He knows where Kyen went after Celvalara."

"You trust him?"

She crossed her arms over her chest. Of course she didn't, but what did he want her to say? "Finding this guy can't hurt. As I see it, we're just getting rid of one more pirate the galaxy doesn't need." And helping another one in the process ...

Mando nodded once and flicked a row of switches, sending the ship hurtling into hyperspace. The blue light danced across Sinead's face. Suddenly, she felt impossibly tired, her heart a heavy lump in her chest. Relief that Kyen could still remain unsullied in her mind battled against nauseating guilt; when the door opened, and she saw it wasn't her Kyen sitting on the throne, she hadn’t been confused or saddened, but so relieved. Was her love really that conditional?

She bit down on the inside of her cheek, hard. Small bumps had formed where she had broken through the skin.

"How do tracking fobs work?" She grasped for anything that might distract her.

Mando leaned back in his seat. "The fob tracks via your chain code. The more digits, the more exact it is."

"How precise can it be? Can it point out the correct planet?"

"Planet, continent."

"Oh."

She stared out at the swirling mist.

Mando cleared his throat. When she looked at him, he had turned in his chair to face her. "After a bounty's been fulfilled, the information is dormant. You said the Hutts think you're dead. You have nothing to worry about."

It didn't feel like she had nothing to worry about. It felt like an entire Imperial armada was waiting for them just on the other side of hyperspace.

"Yeah, okay." Turning back to look at the mist, she wrapped her arms around her midsection in a poor excuse for a hug. She tried thinking back to Sriluur, where she and Kyen would sneak off to lie in the shade of the palace, but everything felt wrong and faded like she was looking through a dirty window.

She just wanted someone to hold her again.

There was a bump from the hull, and Mando got up, faltering when he looked at her. The blue light danced across his armor. "I'll just ... go check on him ..."

"Right."

She felt his hand accidentally brushed her shoulder as he passed her, then he was gone, leaving her alone with her thoughts.

<- Previous chapter - Next chapter ->

[spxderman-s]

coffee grounds

requested by anon; Hi!! I really love your stories! Could you please do one where Tom and Y/N work together in a little cafe or store and he makes her nervous (cuz he's so hot) and when he realises this, he decides to be a little shit and mess with her and make her all flustered. Just super fluffy please, thank you!!! Xx

summary: [Coffee Shop AU] You’ve fallen madly in love with your co-worker Tom, and because you make it so blatantly obvious--he catches on and decides to have a little fun with it.

pairings: tom holland x reader

word count: 1.9k 

warnings: some swear words, but thats about it 

a/n: i’m a slut for coffee shop au’s y’all, and i hope this does your request justice, love!! 

“I have a soy latte with an extra shot of espresso,” you called out from behind the bar, pushing the warm drink out for pick up. Turning back to clean the steamer, your co-worker and friend standing beside you bumped your hip with her own to get your attention. You glanced over to her, and she gestured with her head to someone who just entered the coffee shop.

Your heart instantly skipped a beat, butterflies erupting in your chest as you watched him wave to your boss, don an apron, and run a hand through his unruly curls. He hopped on the register, and began taking orders from the growing line, flashing his million-dollar smile, winking to get tips, charm dripping from every word that came out of his mouth.

“Dude,” your friend whispered, poking you. “Quit staring--you’re gonna scare him off.”

You hadn’t even realized you were staring. Looking down at the line of empty cups you needed to make drinks for, you exhaled forcefully and focused. “Sometimes it’s so hard not to.”

“Why don’t you just--you know--talk to him?” she teased, pulling the levers to the machine. “Like a normal person?”

“Please,” you replied, talking over the sound of the steamer. “As if he even knows I exist.”

She was about to open her mouth to retort, but her eyes darted behind you, and decided otherwise--turning back to her machine with the slightest smile visible on her face.

You frowned, looking over your shoulder--coming face-to-face with Tom, who held an empty cup in his hands. He was looking at you with an odd expression, and you prayed to anyone listening that he didn’t hear your conversation.

“Ah--mocha,” he said, holding the cup out to you. His handwriting was familiar, marking the components of the drink along the side.

“G-got it,” you stuttered weakly, taking the cup. As it passed between you, his fingertips grazed yours--seemingly on purpose. You nearly dropped it, your hands shook as you pumped the chocolate sauce and pushed the espresso button. You refused to look at him or your friend, your eyes bored a hole into the little green light blinking on the machine in front of you.

“[Y/N],” your boss’ voice rang out. “Take your fifteen.”

“Yup,” you sighed with relief, letting your co-worker take over the drink as you slid past Tom and ran for the cover of the back room. Closing the door behind you, you collapsed into the desk chair and closed your eyes with exhaustion. Between working long shifts and dealing with ridiculous customers, being around Tom was an escape. But lately he had been more attentive to you, looking at you more often--what did it mean? Did he know?

Your thoughts were interrupted as the door opened, and speak of the devil: Tom poked his head inside and grinned at you.

“You look comfy,” he observed, sliding into the small room.

You swallowed nervously, averting your eyes from him, and nodded awkwardly. “As comfy as I can get in this prehistoric chair.”

He guffawed, his laugh sounded like angels singing. It washed over you in a golden glow, and you sighed in absolute content. Tom fell silent, still smiling, and squatted in front of you. His eyes were burning as they regarded you, a dark curl falling over his forehead. Your breath hitched in your throat and your heart rate skyrocketed at how close he was to you--what was he doing?

Tom’s hand settled itself on your thigh, long fingers splayed--and you nearly fainted. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, the muscle in his jaw flicking. He leaned forward, his other hand reaching--

“We’re out of large cups,” he spoke, his voice low. You heard the rustle of plastic from under the desk, and once he had a stack of them in his grip, his hand left your thigh and he stood up. Straightening his apron, he smiled at you. “Sorry for invading your space, there.”

“It’s alright,” you whispered, wondering if he could hear how loud your heart was beating.

It looked like he wanted to say something else, but you both heard your boss shout from the floor: “Tom, where are those cups?”

“Gotta go,” he grinned, and disappeared from the back room, leaving you breathless and gasping for air.

“Hey guys,” your boss spoke to you and Tom from the other side of the counter. He was holding his keys. “I need you two to lock up tonight, is that cool? Babysitter had to call it short, I gotta get home.”

You stopped wiping down the espresso machine and frowned. “Are we allowed to close without you?”

Tom pushed the mop around the tables and chairs on the opposite side of the room, grinning. “You worry too much--we’ll be fine, darling.”

It was as if angels were singing as he said that word--to you. “Y-yeah, we’ll be fine,” you repeated, looking to your boss, who swung his keys around his finger and pointed a finger gun at both of you.

“Thanks guys,” he said, backing out of the restaurant. “Have a good night.”

“You too,” you and Tom replied simultaneously. Blushing, you returned to cleaning out the coffee grounds in the machine and organizing the cups. Out of the corner of your eye you could see him still mopping, his muscles visible as he pushed it around. As he had his back to you, you couldn’t help but gaze at him longingly--and your heart still burned from his little game earlier on your break. You wondered how soft his kisses were, or how rough he could make them.

He turned back around to empty the bucket, and you quickly averted your eyes, clearing your throat. Jesus, what was wrong with you? He’d never give you a second glance.

But, as you continued to scrub the spotless stainless steel counter, that little voice in your head spoke: What if he already has?

He disappeared down the hall, and you were safe for a moment. Your hand gripping the towel stilled, and you leaned against the edge of the counter while exhaling a forceful breath. Your heart was beating maniacally.

“You alright?”

He startled you out of your thoughts, your eyes jumping open and landing on him standing by the end of the counter, one hand leaning on it for support. His eyes searched yours, and you shifted your gaze to his feet. “Yeah, just….tired.”

“Just tired?” he repeated, taking a step closer to you. His voice was low and laced with concern.

You nodded and twisted the rag in your hands, knowing you had to move by him to toss it into the bin. Looking back up at him, he had moved until he was just out of arm’s reach away from you. Swallowing nervously, no doubt blushing like a madman, you let out a trembling breath as he closed the space between the two of you.

“What are you doing?” you breathed, his hand running up your arm slowly. His eyes were following his touch, as his fingers softly crossed over your jaw.

“Something I should have done a long time ago,” he murmured back, thumb grazing across your parted lips.

His hand moved back to hold the nape of your neck, pausing to see how you reacted. Your eyes held his half-lidded gaze, before he leaned in to close the gap between your lips and his.

But before he could--you put a hand to his chest to stop him. He pulled back, a tilt in his head and a frown on his face. “Is something wrong?” His hand slid from your neck, back down the length of your arm, before pulling away from you completely.

“What are you doing?” you asked again, but this time your voice was firmer.

“I thought--that you--” he crossed his arms, a blush rising into his cheeks. Gesturing to the two of you with his finger, the muscle in his jaw twitched. “I thought there was something going on here.”

You were stunned, still reeling from his touch a few moments ago. Trying to put together the words, you could only open and close your mouth.

“My bad, then,” he muttered, turning away and disappearing into the backroom.

Fuck! Your brain screeched, and you gripped the edge of the counter so tightly that your knuckles were white. Why can’t you just tell him how you really feel?

The rest of closing went by in a blur, and you stood by the door waiting for Tom to finish scribbling down words on the clipboard. Refusing to look at him, you turned your gaze to stare out the windows, where an autumn rain was beginning to fall--the drops raced each other down the glass in front of you.

“All set,” Tom announced, hanging the clipboard up and moving towards the door. “Jeez, where did this rain come from?”

You didn’t reply, but your cheeks burned at the thought of him awkwardly trying to make conversation.

The two of you ventured out into the drizzling rain and he locked the shop doors, tugging on them to be sure before facing you and swallowing nervously.

Now’s your chance, the voice in your head screamed. Tell him!

He gave a small wave, and turned to walk home.

“Tom,” your voice cracked, and he stopped.

“You don’t have to say anything,” he said over his shoulder.

“Yes I do.” You moved around him to look at him in the eye. He was fiddling with his fingers. You steeled your nerves and took a deep breath, reaching out and taking one of his hands in yours. “I’m in love with you,” you croaked.

His jaw set as his eyes snapped to yours, confused. “What?”

“I’ve been in love with you ever since you started working here,” you rambled on, not caring anymore. “And today--today just really threw me off, because I never thought you’d give me a second glance.”

“Okay,” he said, “I admit to knowing you had some kind of a crush on me, but I didn’t think you were in love….”

Shit, you thought. This is awkward.

“Because….because I’m in love with you too,” Tom rushed out, running a hand through his damp hair. “Once I found out about you, it kinda snowballed for me.”

You stood there, speechless, not knowing what the hell to say again. But this time, he didn’t get angry--he stepped forward, placing a hand on either side of your face, and kissed you so fervently that the two of you nearly toppled over. The only thing you could think of to do was kiss him back, so you did--fiercely. You hands moved to tangle in his hair, the droplets flying off in every direction. After a few more moments of heated passion, you broke apart, and stared at each other for a second--before bursting into laughter.

“That should have happened a long time ago,” he repeated his words from earlier. “But I’m glad it happened like that.”

“In the rain, no doubt,” you joked, turning your palm over to watch the raindrops splash in your open hand. “How romantic.”

He laughed again, a rush of warmth passing through you as you listened to the melodic sound. Taking your hand, he gestured behind him. “I’ve got some movies we could rent--if you haven’t got any plans tonight.”

You squeezed his fingers and smiled. “I do now.”

The two of you began walking hand in hand in the rain, lips tingling from stolen kisses, vibrant happiness rushing through your veins as the promise of still having him tomorrow, the next day, and the next settled into your thoughts--and you couldn’t ask for a more perfect storm.

tagging: @tronnoristheotp @nedthegay @i-saved-me @theweirdowithablogo @skymoonandstardust @timemngmtoptimisationproblems @thumper-darling @holywinchesterness @grabyourpolaroidandmyhand @ketterdame @tonight-couldbeforgettable @dimplesandcutesmiles @terrashrone @leorai-lemony-lewa @yoinkpeter @spider-boo-5 @elizzabeth21 @multi-parker @rvrdxle @gaiasambuci @bisexualmomfriend @1022bridgetp 

[doctenwho]

Purest Expression

Hello! Welcome back! I think these three asks all go together, right? So, really cute idea! You keep giving me prompts I have to think about for a while, and songs I don’t know! A bit more work, but fun all the same :D After studying all three songs, and listening to the lyrics, I’ve come up with this!

I hope you like it, and that it’s what you’re looking for! Enjoy :D

Warning: Alcohol?

Word Count: 4,599

Summary: Read the prompt above!

“You’ll love it, I’m sure,” the Doctor told you without looking up from the TARDIS control console. He wasn’t looking at you, but you could see the smile on his face, “it truly is a wonderful place, full of art and song, and creativity in general. The locals are always very friendly, and there’s never a dull moment between all the entertainment happening.”

“Sounds awesome,” you replied from where you were standing opposite the Doctor, looking down at some of the knobs and buttons on the console. You glanced away from the console to look over at the Doctor as he pushed a few buttons.

“It is,” the man promised, finally looking up and flashing a bright, happy smile, “here we go!”  

He pulled a lever, and suddenly the TARDIS was landing. It was a bit bumpy, but you were used to worse landings. You still grabbed a hold of the console to keep yourself upright, as the Doctor dashed around the console to finish up with the landing.

You knew he was finished when he stepped back, overviewing his TARDIS before finally setting his attention back onto you, with that same bright smile.

“It’s been ages since I’ve been here,” he told you as he rounded to stand with you, “I promise, this planet is somewhere you’ll never forget!”

You were excited to see. Since announcing where the two of you were heading, the Doctor had been ecstatic to arrive, and to show you around. He said nothing but good things, and shared some of his fond memories of the place, which only made you want to see it sooner.  

He wasn’t usually one to be recounting things, so this place must be special to him.  

You watched from where you were stood as the man strode to the TARDIS doors, throwing them open and stepping out. He looked both ways before tipping his body back in the TARDIS to throw a grin back at you.

“Right,” he called from the doorway, tilting his head and giving you a sideways grin. He held his hand out to you, for you to take, “allons-y.”

You returned the grin, making your way towards him and grabbing his hand, “yeah, let’s go.”

He pulled you out the door, then let your hand go so he could lock the doors.  

The TARDIS was nestled right between two tall buildings, impeccable parking for the TARDIS. There was barely half an inch on either side of the TARDIS between the buildings, but the Doctor really had a knack for parking his space and time machine, but that probably had to do with owning and flying it for hundreds and hundreds of years.  

You took two steps back from the TARDIS as the Doctor worked on locking the doors, looking up and around and gaping in amazement. It really was like nothing you’d seen before.

This planet didn’t look much different than earth—your earth. It was as if you were just dropped in New York City. Building wise, at least. There were tall buildings, and small shops and restaurants. Busy streets and people similar to humans walking.

The only really noticeable difference was really the colours. Everything was colourful. All the buildings, instead of clean and pristine, were painted. Colour running up along the side of the buildings, and you were sure it was on each and every side.  

It looked like graffiti from your planet, beautiful and bold. But it was prideful instead of despised. There was no way it could simply be graffiti, not when they building occupants were clearly very proud of the murals and detailing running along the length of the building.  

What few trees were here were explosions of colours, each leaf being a different from the others. You wondered briefly if the locals around this planet painted each leaf, or if they just kinda grew those beautiful colours.  

And it really was beautiful.  

You spun on your heels, simply taking everything it.  

It was exactly as the Doctor had described, but not at all how you’d imagined it. The people living here liked colours and paintings as much as the people on earth liked boring and uniform. And it was refreshing. To look around and see nothing that matched anything. Everything was different, and bold, and you really liked it.  

The more you looked, the more you really loved the place. People were out painting things; walls, the sidewalk—others were singing or playing an instrument both inside buildings and outside on the sidewalks.  

It really was a planet of the arts.

“I love it,” you told the Doctor when you felt his hand land on your shoulder as he joined you at your side, “it’s beautiful.”

“That it is,” the Doctor responded, voice warm as his eyes swept over the sights as well. “A bit like your earth, but, well, they’re a tad more into celebrating the arts. I doubt we’ll manage to leave this planet without hearing at least one song—it's kinda the thing around here.”

“I like songs,” you shrugged with a bright smile. “There’s so much happening, I don’t know where to look.”

“We’re in the right place for you then,” the Doctor grinned widely, “I believe we’ve arrived during a festival of sorts. I’ve only been around when everyone was like this once. Things aren’t usually quite so hectic around here.”

“A festival?” you asked in interest. “Like Christmas or Halloween on earth?”

“Eh,” the Doctor paused to think, “a bit, I suppose. It’s more a celebration of creativity. Like re-paintings of buildings and murals when things start fading or chipping away due to weather and such.”

“So, kinda like spring cleaning on earth? Not a true holiday, but known and celebrated by many?”

The Doctor froze, chewing his lip before grinning at you, “Yes!” He cheered, “exactly like spring cleaning on earth. That’s the closest comparison I’ve come across. Brilliant, (Y/N)!”

You felt your cheeks heat up at the praise from the Doctor. There really was nothing better than a genius alien telling you, you were brilliant. The Doctor was more known for his digs at people, so getting something kind and friendly was always amazing.  

The Doctor looked around for a second before returning his look back to you, “though, this celebration does have a bit more hype than spring cleaning on earth though. They’ve really made it a social event with fun and traditions, instead of just a day of cleaning.”

“If only we could do that for spring cleaning,” you sighed, but smiled almost immediately after.  

“If only,” the Doctor laughed in agreement.  

“Now, if I remember correctly, and I do, the last time I was here during this festival, I found the best cocktail I think I’ve ever had in my whole life. It was just a festival special though, since I haven’t seen it since.”

“Well, let’s go then!” You cheered, grabbing the Doctor’s hand again. “You can’t tell me you found the best cocktail in existence and not bring me to taste it, that’s just a tease. Lead the way, Doctor!”

“Alright, alright,” the Doctor smiled, “I’ll bring you to try the cocktail. It truly is delicious, I’m excited to have another taste.”

You pouted at the teasing look on the Doctor’s face. He had way too much fun teasing you, whenever he got the chance, he would.

“Now you’re really just teasing,” you huffed, but you really didn’t sound angry—more amused than anything else. The Doctor laughed, finally starting to move and lead you along.

The two of you chatted quietly about cool things you saw, or songs you heard. Everywhere you looked there was something new and just as exciting happening. Everyone was out and about, practicing their singing, or instruments, or painting freely along the pavement, or exterior siding of the buildings.

Everything was just so free. There didn’t appear to be any restrictions when it came to the creative process here. Everyone looked content in what they were doing, grinning and laughing.  

It didn’t take long to arrive at your destination.  

It was a small little bar, hidden between buildings and decorated just as nicely as everything else. It was small, but packed full of people when the two of you stepped in. There wasn’t a single open table in the whole place.

Luckily though, the bar counter had two open stools side by side, which the Doctor was quick to lead you towards. You slipped easily into the stool, glancing and watching the Doctor do the same before you continuing to look around and take everything in as the Doctor gesture the bartender over and ordered the cocktails and a language that was similar to English, but not quite your English.

The TARDIS hadn’t converted the English for you, so you shot the Doctor a confused look. As soon as he was finished ordering, his attention shifted to you, where he turned completely, studying your expression. He didn’t say anything for a moment, and then your confusion seemed to click in his head.

“Oh,” he frowned, “oh right. They are speaking English here,” he explained, “the TARDIS knows this as English too, and your English is basically the same thing. She won’t convert something she thinks we both understand—because to her, they’re speaking your language... even if it is a bit different.”

“Oh.” You tilted your head, “I got a bit of it, I think. I understand a lot of the songs they’ve been singing too.”

“Yes,” he grinned, “very similar to your English—trust me, if we stayed for a few days I’m sure you’d be fluent by the time we left. And they have a few songs from your earth as well, travelers sharing, you know. Your planet does have some of the best music I’ve heard. Every planet has its perks.”

“Well, it’s nice to know other planets like our music too,” you mused.  

Before you could say anything else, the bartender was sliding two drinks towards both you and the Doctor. Like everything else on this planet, it was filled with colours. It looked like someone had dumped a rainbow into a glass.

Was there anything on this planet that wasn’t beautiful?

You held your drink up to get a better look, as the Doctor sipped his and grinned. He gave you a sly look, head tilted in your direction as he held his glass to his lips.  

“What’s in it?” You couldn’t help but ask. Last thing you needed was there to be something toxic to humans in it. The Doctor, as much as he looked like a human, was still a Gallifreyan, and he really wasn't the same as a human.  

“Berries native to this planet mostly. Ice, a weak alcohol made from fermented grains also native to the planet. It’s a bit weaker than vodka from your earth, but it’s really the same thing. Nothing will harm you in any way, I promise. I wouldn’t’ve suggested it, if I didn’t know it was safe for you as well.”

You studied the Doctor for another second before you decided you believed him and took a sip of the drink. It was honestly like nothing you’d ever tasted before. You’d had cocktails on your earth, and they were alright. It was a gamble, really depending on where you got it. Sometimes the alcohol was too stong, or sometimes it wasn’t strong enough—or it was too sweet, or not sweet enough—but this, this cocktail was amazing.

It was perfectly sweet, each colour in the cup tasted like something different, but it all blended together perfectly into an amazing taste you couldn’t explain or describe if you tried. And the alcohol was perfect—sharp enough that you could taste it, but not enough so that it was overwhelming or over powering of the other flavors.  

Overall, it was like nothing you’d ever think could exist, and you were definitely going to be begging the Doctor to buy a few bottles of whatever this space vodka was, because you were sure you could make your own amazing cocktail with earth ingredients and this liquor.  

“Good?” the Doctor prompted with a knowing smile. He lifted his cup back to his lips to take another sip of his drink.

“I can’t imagine my life without you,” you moaned, taking another sip and savoring the unique flavors. This cocktail was what you imagined the colourful world outside to taste, if it were edible at least.  

“Same here.” The Doctor snorted as he took another sip as well.  

“I was talking to the drink.”

“So was I.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at the Doctor. He gave you a goofy grin, laughing lightly as well. The two of you continued to banter as you sipped your drinks. The Doctor ordered a second round when the two of you were almost finished the first, and the bartender, as if he were magic, returned just as you finished the last of your drink.

The second was just as good as the first, and the third, well, the third was the best of all three. Or maybe it tasted the same, but you still couldn’t get over the flavor. You really couldn’t imagine anything tasting as good as this cocktail did.  

“I don’t know how they do it,” you told the Doctor, who was asking the bartender for some kind of food, since the two of you hadn’t really eaten, and alcohol, weak or not, hits you harder on an empty stomach. “we need this alcohol, imagine it was raspberries, or strawberries... or even with blue berries—ooh, or black berries. All the possibilities.”

“Why stick to berries?” the Doctor shrugged, “imagine peach, or mango. Maybe even watermelon or something.”

“Good call,” you mumbled, “can we buy this stuff and bring it with us?”

“Of course,” the Doctor smiled, “before we leave tomorrow we can head to the shops and do a bit of a shop.”

“Perfect,” you grinned, just a little tipsy. The food would help reel you in though. A plate of chips was set in front of you and the Doctor, and he was first to take one and eat it.  

“Regular potatoes,” the Doctor told you. “It’s hard to change root vegetables. Especially in a solar system so similar to your own.”

You shrugged in reply, grabbing a few chips and showing them in your mouth. They were good too.  

“Should we get water now?” you asked, “three drinks is quite a few, and we still have to walk back to the TARDIS.”

“Well,” the Doctor turned to look at you, “this alcohol is very, very weak compared to what we had on Gallifrey, so it’s not really affecting me as it is you. I can order you a water if you’d like though, I don’t think we should have any more cocktails. Especially you—I'm not entirely sure how you’ll feel when the effects wear off. Not many humans have tried these drinks, let alone had a couple.”

“Oh, a hangover,” you huffed. That was tomorrow’s problem anyways. And you weren’t too intoxicated, tipsy at best. You’d be in no condition to drive, but you could probably still walk a straight line if you tried.

“It shouldn’t be too bad, since it is weaker than anything you have on earth, but I still don’t want you to be too sick tomorrow, no matter how good the cocktail is. Now, would you like me to order you a water?”

“No, it’s alright,” you waved it off slowly, “I really don’t need a water... as long as you make sure I get back safe, alright?”

“Always,” the Doctor promised, “we can go as soon as we finish up the chips.”

“Sounds good,” you agreed, stuffing another chip into your mouth.  The Doctor followed your lead, taking another chip for himself, but you were almost sure he’d bought the chips for you specifically. Especially if the alcohol was barely affecting him.  

You ate the chips one by one, enjoying and savoring them as you also finished off what was left in your glass. You’d probably never get to taste anything like that again—well, depending on how often they have this festival. And how long you can manage to stay travelling with the Doctor.  

You’d been so absorbed in your drink and chips, that you’d barely noticed the bartender talking to the Doctor. But now that you had, you couldn’t seem to drag your attention away from his conversation. The bartender was leaning against the counter, almost like he was lecturing the Doctor, who’s cheeks were very slowly starting to tint a light blush.  

Now you really wanted to know what the man was saying. If it had the Doctor awkwardly blushing, it had to be something good.  

Suddenly the man turned to you, grinning brightly. “Sing!” he prompted, gesturing to you and the Doctor.

“Sing?” you repeated in question, looking back towards the Doctor in confusion. Hoping he'd translate what that meant, or, maybe tell you what they’d been talking about. Anything that would clear of the some of the confusion you were drowning in.  

“Right, well,” the Doctor cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his neck, “the last time I came here... I was, well, I was alone. This time you’re here with me, of course.”

“Sing,” the bartender said again, almost impatiently.

“This planet... well, it’s quite big on expression through song.”

“Well...” you started, then stopped yourself and reconsidered. You really didn’t know what was happening, “and what exactly does that mean?”

“Sing, lovers!” the bartender cheered, which, in turn, drew in most of the other bar patrons attention and then they were also cheering. Beside you, the Doctor winced, and you turned a surprised look to him. Lovers?

“They think we’re... well, that we’re involved, I suppose. And here, on this planet, couples are to, uh, well, they’re to sing to each other. It’s pure expression through song. It doesn’t matter what you try to sing, a song that you really feel describes your feeling of the other person will come out. Even if you don’t know the song, you’ll be able to sing it perfectly to your partner. It’s completely honesty, even if you try to lie, the truth will come out instead. I saw it last time I was here, but I was alone, so...”  

“Did you tell him that we aren’t, uh, lovers?”

“I tried too,” the Doctor frowned, “but, he didn’t believe me. He, uh, well, he actually made some pretty solid points that we were a couple, if I’m honest... But, if we just leave, we’ll basically be dishonoring their traditions—like mistletoe on earth at Christmas.”

“So, we have to sing,” you tilted your head. It wasn’t the worst thing that could possibly happen. And you thought very fondly of the Doctor, so nothing you sing should be rude, or anything like that. Infact, you were just hoping you didn’t give too much away when you sang.  

“We have to sing,” the Doctor gave a small nod.

“We can sing then,” you decided. “It can’t be that bad, right? You don’t hate me, do you?”

“Of course not,” the Doctor furrowed his eyebrows, like he was offended by even the thought. “I just... don’t really sing.”

“Well,” you clicked your tongue with a smile, “you’re about too! Tell him we’ll do it,” you gestured to the man watching the two of you in interested, as if he were trying to understand the conversation. The Doctor gave you a kicked puppy look before he turned and was speaking in that almost-but-not-English again.  

Cheers erupted in the bar, and then you and the Doctor were being led to a small little stage off the side of the room by the bartender. It was almost like a karaoke bar back on earth, but it was still different. There were no screens anywhere, so the song you sing must really come from the heart.

“How do we know what song to sing?” you asked the Doctor meekly, a bit more nervous now that you were up on the small stage. At least he was up here with you, so you weren’t terrified out of your mind with stage fright.  

“You’ll know,” he answered simply. “You’ll know exactly what to sing—you won’t even have to think about it. Just... sing whatever comes to mind, don’t worry, alright?”

“Okay,” you breathed out. “Should I go first, or you?”

“I will,” the Doctor gave you a small smile, “you’ll do fine, I promise.”

The Doctor took a second to think before he looked around the room, then at you. Suddenly, music was playing- but from where, you couldn’t tell. The Doctor was clearly waiting for some kind of que from the song to start, and when he heard whatever que that was, he began.

“There's no one in this world for me,” the Doctor started, voice soft and instantly silencing the crowd watching. It blended perfectly with the music, and you almost couldn’t believe it was the Doctor singing. “There's never gonna be.”  

He paused for just a second, “there's no one in this world needs me,” he glanced towards you, then looked down. “There's never gonna be.”

You’d never heard this song, but you still... well, you knew it. There was something about it that you just... knew. The Doctor continued on, gazing around the crowd before looking at you again, “Yet sometimes in my dreams I hear--”

“Sundown, I miss you sundown,” you were singing before you even knew what was happening. It just felt right. Like you needed to sing it, “Sundown, I need you sundown.”

The Doctor turned to you, beyond surprised, as the crowd went nuts in cheering and applause. They settled down almost instantly as you delivered the next few lines, “Come on, come on, come on, come on back to me. Come on, come on, come on, come on back to me.”

You really weren’t sure where the lyrics were coming from, and from you understanding, you’d each be singing a different song. But you were doing a duet. The Doctor looked just as confused as you felt, but it didn’t stop you from continuing on with your next line, “I need you sundown, I need you sundown.”

No other lyrics found their way into your mind, which made sense since the Doctor had continued on right after you, “There's no hands ever reached for me,” he was staring at you now, confused but happy all the same, “there's never gonna be.”

You frowned at the lyrics he was singing, but the Doctor continued on, “there's no one meant for lonely me,” he took a step towards you, giving you a tiny smile before saying the next lyrics, “there's never gonna be.”

“Yet sometimes in my dreams I hear--” he continued on with his next lines, but this time you were ready for the urge to continue the song. You were waiting for it, and you really couldn’t believe it. The two of you were effortlessly pulling off this duet—and you didn’t even know the song!

“Sundown,” you gave him a bright smile, “I miss you sundown.”

You moved to stand beside him, taking his hand into yours, where he squeezed your hand as emotional support. You were sure you were finishing the song, “Sundown, I want you sundown.”

You continued on, blaring the lyrics perfectly, “Come on, come on, come on, come on back to me.” You paused for one beat in the music, “Come on, come on, come on, come on back to me.”

You felt a sudden sinking feeling of fear, looking around at everyone watching the two of you intently. You bit your bottom lip, almost forgetting what you were doing.

You gave a nervous look around the room before the Doctor grew in your attention, almost as if sensing you were suddenly afraid, “I love you sundown,” you sang nervously to him, trying to focus on just the Doctor. His eyes were shining with something, something you’d seen before but not very often. Adoring, if you were to guess.  

“I love you sundown,” you sang again, bit softer but more confident, attention flicking to the crowd before settling on the Doctor again. He looked so happy, almost like he was in love, that look you’d seen in romance films, or on your friends faces whenever they were with their significant others—but it couldn’t be right, because he was looking at you.

“I love you sundown,” you finished it off finally, barely above a whisper. It was quiet-- sang just to him, but you knew that everyone in the bar had heard it too. You grinned at the Doctor as the music in the background faded off, and the Doctor returned the smile as he pulled you into a tight hug.  

“You did so well,” he told you over the eruption of cheers and clapping from all around the bar. They were apparently happy and content with the performance. You were too, but you really hoped you never had to do it again.  

“That was so weird,” you couldn’t help but mutter into the Doctor’s shoulder, “I didn’t even know that song. But I did. I knew all the words—well, not your parts.”

“It was strange,” the Doctor agreed. “I really didn’t think you’d... feel the same. You couldn’t have known the chorus if you didn’t feel the same way I do. And... well, I never heard a single duet the whole evening I was here during the last festival.”

“That’s crazy. How we both knew the song,” you blinked in surprise, “what... what does that mean?”

“Lovers,” the bartender was back, voice cheerful and fond. He was grinning ear to ear, like you’d passed some sort of secret test. He held his hand up, pointer finger and thumb curled into a circle, as his middle finger, ring finger and pinky all stayed straight, which was apparently a universal way to say ‘perfect’. “Very good.”

Then the man was speaking a mile a minute to the Doctor, who could barely get a word in. He patted the Doctor on the back with one last grin before shuffling through the crowd and returning to his post behind the bar.

“What did he say?” you asked as the Doctor led you away.

“That our drinks were on the house,” the man frowned, “and that the last time he saw a duet like that was when he was a child. It’s been years.”

The Doctor looked towards you, chewed the inside of his cheek before grinning dismissively.  

“Who knows,” he shrugged with a laugh, throwing an arm over your shoulders as he pushed the doors open and led you out. When the two of you passed through the door and out onto the colourful streets, he pulled you into his side, “let’s get back to the TARDIS, it’s been a long night.”

“It has,” you sighed, leaning into his side. You wouldn’t forget his hesitance to answer, nor the fact that he didn’t answer even though you were sure he knew exactly what it meant. “I’m beat,” you mumbled.

“I’m sure,” the Doctor sympathized, leading you along the way you’d come before, “we’ll get you to bed and see how you’re feeling in the morning.”

“Okay,” you yawned, “and then tomorrow you can tell me what that was all about when I’m not exhausted.”

“Sure,” the Doctor promised with a smile, “I’ll tell you everything I know.”

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Hopefully it was what you were looking for! I tried. It was a bit hard describing the scenary of the art planet without repeating myself too much lol, but thank you so much for the prompt! As always, feel free to ask again if it’s not what you’re looking for!