#comfortember day twenty four

[fanfictasia]

Comfortember Day 24

Blankets

Spoiler: This is an excerpt from Growing in the Storm

Ahsoka Tano

As it turns out, sitting here watching Vader do his office work – or whatever in the world he’s doing – is very boring. And I’m feeling way too off balance to try meditating right now. I found it very boring to watch Anakin do paperwork too, honestly. But this time, I can’t even offer to help to make it go faster, or actually –

“Want some help?” I ask, approaching his table.

The helmeted head raises a little to look at me. “I do not recall you ever being this enthusiastic about battle reports in the past,” he replies, dryly.

I huff. I never found them terribly fascinating, but it was… honestly preferable to the actual fighting. Though, looking at them often just made me feel worse knowing how many people were lost. “Remember that time I wrote that huge pile of reports because you were stumbling around blindly and could hardly stay awake, and Rex was this close to stunning you?”

“No.”

I wave a hand, as I pause next to him. “You were probably too tired to remember my name then.”

“That is… possible,” he replies, a note of amusement in his voice.

“Hopefully you’ve been doing better without us to babysit you?” But honestly, that’s a joke. I can especially see looking back what lengths Anakin went to, to care of me and the boys, and we always returned that for him as much as we could. But now… I rather doubt he’s close with any of his men. All Imperials seem too snobby for that. Okay, I know that’s not fair, but honestly. And he feels way too lonely to be… close to anyone. Has anyone taken care of him since Rex and I tried to on Mustafar before Sidious came?

“You would not be pleased to know the answer to that.”

Oh no. Not that I guessed otherwise. “What does that mean?”

“I do not sleep anymore.”

“Very funny,” I deadpan.

“There is little time for it. I draw my strength from the Dark Side.”

Okay, hold on, is he serious? He had better not be serious. “Then I think it’s time I tuck you into bed under your cape. It is a good blanket,” I reply, and I am hardly joking. He better not be entirely serious.

I can’t decipher the noise that escapes his vocoder. “I have to many matters to look after for that.”

“You’ve already been doing that for an hour.”

“There is always more to attend to.”

[heyitsme1040]

Fort Cuddleston [d.w]

summary : Having nothing to do, you decide to make a blanket fort. While watching movies in the fort, Dean comes in and joins you. The two of you cuddle while watching movies late into the night.

pairings : Dean Winchester x Reader

warnings : None (if I missed anything let me know!)

word count : 280

AO3 (x)

a/n : Day twenty-four of Comfortember is here! The prompt was ‘blankets’. 

It was a quiet day in the bunker. Sam was reading in the library and Dean was washing Baby. You had no plans for the day. You’d already taken care of what you needed to do, and now you were just hanging out. You thought of things you could do. You didn't feel like reading anything, baking, and you'd already taken inventory of all your supplies. Pacing your room, your eyes landed on your laptop. With a smile you had an idea. 

You walked to the bunker’s linen closet. You grabbed all of the extra pillows from inside as well as a few blankets. You grabbed some string and screw hooks. With everything in your room, you set to work. Screwing the hooks into the walls, you strung the string from one end of the room to the other. Tying it taut, you draped the blankets over the line. Piling the pillows under the blanket you set your laptop inside your newly constructed blanket fort. Turning the light off you crawled into the fort.

You watched movies on your laptop, enjoying the comfort of the blanket fort. A light knock on your door had you pausing the movie.

“Come in!” you yelled.

“Hey darling–” Dean cut himself off. “What’d you do?” He sounded amused.

“I didn't know what to do,” you explained, “so I made a blanket fort.”

“I can see that.” Dean laughed. 

“Wanna join? I have movies.” You sing-songed the offer.

“That sounds nice.” 

Dean crawled into the fort beside you. You snuggled closer to him and restarted the movie. The two of you watched movie after movie until it was too late to keep your eyes open.

Author's Note : Reblogs are appreciated, likes are welcome, and if you want to read more of my fics then maybe follow.

©heyitsme1040 If you find this post on any platform under a username different than heyitsme1040 it is not their work.

[din-miller]

Safe and Sound

Pairing: Tech x gender neutral reader

Word count: 460

Summary: Comfortember day one: safe

Warnings: mentions of vomit but not graphic, reader gets taken by imperial guards, crosshair is with the batch, hurt/comfort, married couple, angst with a happy ending

A/N: help, it’s November 3rd and I just found out about Comfortember. I’m not sure how many I’ll be able to pump out, especially since I’m trying to do domestic december and have twenty wips collecting dust in google docs. I wrote this on the second so it’s still technically by birthday right now. This is my gift to myself. Divider by @saradika

Safe

Four letters, one word whispered in your ear as arms wrapped around you from behind, keeping you close as you sat on the dark cell-block's floor.

You’re safe

You’re okay

I got you

Words whispered again and again, like he’s waiting for you to believe him and you can’t blame him. For the longest time you weren’t safe, you weren’t okay; you were alone. For days, weeks – a full month, Tech informed you, his voice full of raw emotion, nothing like the monotone you’ve come to love.

He doesn’t let go of you, doesn’t care that your hair is unwashed. That your skin is caked with dirt, dried vomit, snot and all kinds of gross stuff and has been for longer than you’re fully able to comprehend at the moment. Tech, your riduur, simply doesn’t bat an eyelash as his lips pressed against your sweaty temple.

“Tech?” You finally managed to find your voice, wincing at the dryness of your throat as you force yourself to speak, “Is everyone okay? Did everyone make it out?”

Your body is pulled back further into Tech’s embrace, a canteen of water pressed against your lips and he slowly urges you to drink a few sips. Once the water was set aside Tech jaw clenched audibly and answered, “You turned yourself in to imperial guards. I understand they were going to kill innocent civilians if you hadn’t, but if you had told us, comm’d us, we would have found another way, cyar’ika. You were gone for five weeks. None of us are okay.”

“I’m sorry,” You choked out an apology, even though you know none of this was truly your fault. It’s the Empire’s, you know that, but that doesn’t stop the tears from rolling down your face, “Maker, I’m so sorry-,”

“Shh,” Tech soothed, hands rubbing up and down your arms, bringing warmth to your body. You hadn’t realised how cold you are until now. You tucked your face into the crook of his neck, “It’s all going to be okay, cyar’ika. Wrecker and Hunter are clearing us a path out of here and Echo has the medbay ready for our arrival. You’re safe, we’re going home.”

Later that night, tucked against Tech’s side, you’ll finally breathe out in relief, safely surrounded by your riduur and kin. For the next few weeks to come you’ll constantly be shadowed by one of the Batch.

Omega and Wrecker will make sure you have a never-ending supply of mantell mix. Echo will make sure every meal you have is homemade, smacking away any hands that try to steal your food. Hunter and Crosshair will be just plain insufferable.

It’ll feel like too much at times but it’s all a reminder that you are safe.

[sylvanfreckles]

Day Twenty-Four: Blanket

He fell asleep, leaning against Tom’s side with his red blanket tucked up around his shoulders, as Grave Robbers from Outer Space played on.

[kurosakismixedbag]

Day Twenty-Four of Comfortember.

[Day Twenty-Four: Family: The public thinks that Tony Stark isn’t in the right mind to have a family, especially after the Civil War. The people in his life proves them all wrong.]

[masterwords]

Moth to a Flame

Summary: Aaron Hotchner's first job after law school is as a member of the legal team on the first season of MTV's The Real World, and his job is simply to keep the show on the air. Derek Morgan, the show's most popular wild child, is making that nearly impossible.

Warnings: None

Pairings: Hotch/Morgan

Words: 3k

Notes: This is for Hotch Appreciation Week Day 6 - AU, skipping Comfortember today to really just indulge this AWFUL cheese fest. @hotchappreciationweek (Title comes from Janet Jackson's "That's The Way Love Goes") This isn't really a coherent story...I don't know what it is. Just me being a gigantic dork, probably. Put on some C&C Music Factory or Extreme and embrace it. Honestly, I might revisit this AU because...I really like them here. You even get a really fucking terrible 90s style graphic to go with today!

**

“Mother,” Aaron says, wrapping the phone cord around his wrist mindlessly. “Yes, I know I went to law school, this is just a job...it's a stepping stone.”

“It's beneath you,” she says, and though her words are pointed he can tell she's otherwise occupied. A floral arrangement, perhaps, something far more important than her son. “You should be looking for a practice to join, not some raunchy television program.”

“I won't be on the program, mother,” he says, and she's already not listening so he continues if for no other reason than to, once more, reassure himself that what he's doing is smart. That it isn't career suicide before he's even established himself. “I'm on the legal team. I will be behind the scenes making sure that everything is good, that we aren't committing FCC violations, that MTV remains in good standing. This program could be groundbreaking.” Even he doesn't believe that, but he's looking at the photos of each of the people who are going to be moving into the house and the task feels daunting at best. Some of them look like they'll be well-behaved, stay in line, and then a few others...he's going to have his work cut out for him.

The house is not a house, not really. It's all movie magic, something he's not accustomed to. MTV is calling it a loft, but it's just more of a whole floor of a warehouse made to look like a hip Manhattan loft. There are makeshift apartments on the lower levels for staff, like Aaron, who will be required to be on call twenty for hours a day and available on little to no notice. He would have no social life for the next six months. None of the people moving in, himself included, could have even afforded the realtor to look at a place like this. He's watching them file in while he sorts through their contracts, makes sure they've signed their lives away on the proper lines, tries to ignore the noise as the cameras are installed and the wall of television monitors flickers to life. It's all a bit much. He's overwhelmed and it isn't even officially Day One.

By Day Five he's at his wits end. Out of the seven “strangers” who are more like mortal enemies at this point, only two of them cause him no problems and they are, by nature, the least popular in the target demographic which means they don't get much screen time. The other five took the show's tag line, to stop being polite and start being real, a little too seriously. He's had a migraine for two days and it isn't looking like it's going to let up any time soon. They have him pulling out his hair day and night, either by trying to figure out how many swear words are too many for a cable television show, or by trying to take off all of their clothes for literally anyone at any time. Four of them have already taken each other to bed and are now at war. One is threatening to move out.

The favorite, by far, is Derek Morgan. Fan mail pours in by the droves, and Aaron has to look at each letter before it can be delivered, make sure there isn't anything inside that might violate his contract – he's weeded out all sorts of propositions, sales pitches, things the man is probably enough of an idiot to accept. He rolls his eyes as he chucks an envelope full of naked photos into the pile to give to him. Men, women, they're all desperate for his attention and they love when he goes through fan mail on the air – it's the most popular segment. Aaron simply cannot figure out the appeal.

Sure, he's handsome - gorgeous, even, but near as Aaron can tell he's completely brain dead. He'll take any bet, put anything in his mouth, he has, so far, no limits. Quickly, he's become the face of the show.

By Day 13 Aaron is ready to quit. Derek has decided that it is now his goal in life to make Aaron miserable. He now refers to the stabbing pain behind his left eye as Derek, and at the end of the last two days he's thought perhaps he was already following in his father's footsteps and having a massive heart attack. His fingers tingle, his chest is tight, but his doctor assures him it's just stress and he needs to find a way to relax. He can't relax when his job is to babysit Derek Morgan. He's saying things he knows he can't while staring directly into the camera, breaking the fourth wall like he's staring directly at the legal team and daring them to stop him. They don't, no matter how Aaron tries. “Deal with it,” they tell him as the money rolls in. “They're eating him up.” The FCC fines can't compare to the number of viewers ready to throw money at merch, at meet-ups, at club parties. He's a cash cow, an overnight sensation.

On Day 17 Derek ends up in the hospital waiting for stitches after getting into a fight in FAO Schwartz. Apparently dads don't take kindly to full grown men antagonizing their children on the giant keyboard. Aaron sits in the ER with him fuming silently.

“Did you like the song?” he asks and Aaron groans, rolls his eyes. It's getting late and he can hear people coughing, throwing up, the emergency room is packed and they're going to be there for hours. The cameras are outside waiting, he can't stop glancing at his watch. This is his first time alone with Derek and the only thing stopping him from laying into the man is the fact that he looks like he's genuinely in pain.

“I've seen BIG, Mr. Morgan,” he grumbles. “Everyone has. All of those kids were going to play the same song. I bet every tourist that walks into that store plays it...the employees are probably all on suicide watch.” He's meaner than he needs to be, and yet it doesn't seem to deter Derek one bit.

“Yeah...but Tom Hanks didn't look half as good as I did...” and even though he's bleeding from a huge gash above his eyebrow, his eyes are twinkling and Aaron has to admit...he's not wrong. He looked good. “I coulda played something else, too, you know. I play piano.”

“No, you don't,” Aaron mutters, and he's shocked at his candor. How did he know whether Derek played piano or not? He clears his throat and glances at his watch again. Derek just smiles, holding an ice pack to his forehead.

“I do. I'll prove it to you...” He's so good natured that Aaron starts to cave, can almost see the appeal.

Day 18 finds Derek hauling a keyboard into the house. It's not clear to anyone where he got it, it just appeared one morning from out of the blue. Aaron woke up not feeling well (a fact which he would come to blame on sitting in an ER with Derek all night) and showed up late to work, trying to sleep it off. The minute Derek appeared with the keyboard Aaron's boss was calling him and telling him to get up there before it all went to hell. Derek was a wildcard, they were imagining him playing something off the wall, riddled with FCC violations, removing his clothes, the whole nine yards. In an over-sized sweatshirt, he shuffles up to The Loft and takes a seat. With his head in his hands, he listens to the show but he's barely keeping his eyes open, he's exhausted and he feels like garbage - the monitors are of no interest to him.

By the time the keyboard is hooked up to the house's surround sound system, he's nearly asleep in his seat. Reality television is not for him. He wakes to a sound check, jagged clanging on the keys, and he covers his ears briefly before the noise becomes a soft tune. Pumping through the speakers is “(Everything I Do) I Do It For You” on piano, and he looks up from where he's silently dying to see Derek actually playing it. His back is turned to Aaron, but he can hear his voice and on the monitors he can see those long, lithe fingers dancing along the keys and for a minute he forgets how awful he feels, forgets his contempt for the other man. He folds his arms over his chest and listens, knowing that the fan mail is going to start pouring in at twice the speed after this. It's beautiful, touching and sweet - unlike anything they've seen out of him so far. If Derek didn't end up married to a supermodel by the end of this, he would be shocked.

Day 19, and Aaron can't get out of bed. He can't talk, throat is on fire, he's got a fever...he's a mess. Derek spends the entire day behaving like a wild man and getting away with all of it, no one there to ensure he's on his best behavior. While Aaron's boss calls non-stop, there isn't anything he's willing to do, he can't even talk, he just listens to his boss yell into the phone and wants to cry every time he swallows. A grown man reduced to tears by strep throat. He's blaming the ER visit, but he knows it could have come from anywhere...he works in a cesspool and he lives with very few boundaries in the MTV warehouse. It's a miracle he hasn't been stricken ill sooner.

An intern brings him hot and sour soup and a cup of hot tea from the Chinese restaurant down the street, his favorite place for late night take-out after a long day of filming. She won't say who it's from, just a gift from someone on set. He assumes its his boss, or someone else on the back end, trying to butter him up and get him back in there asap.

Day 24 finds him finally back at work, still not feeling great but he can almost talk normally again and he's taken all of his antibiotics. He's trailing Derek through the city streets with a camera crew, making sure he doesn't go inside of any establishments they haven't cleared. It's just supposed to be a walk to get dinner, that's what Derek says - he's been cooped up in the loft too long and he needs to get out. He's been shockingly well-behaved since Aaron got sick, and he's more than a little irritated that he's back to his usual shenanigans on his first day back. They need to keep him in line, but the first thing he does is duck into a little nightclub that isn't on the list and the cameras have to stop at the door. Aaron groans and follows, he's got to go pull him back out or ask the owners to let their cameras in. The first option sounds better once he's inside, it's a club full of throbbing dance music and black lights. He hates the way Everybody Dance Now makes his chest pound, the singer's sharp voice slicing his nerves, the way his lungs feel tight. He doesn't see Derek anywhere and he's about to storm back out the door in frustration. This might be the night he quits, admits his mother was right and then there's a hand wrapped around his and he's being pulled into a crush of people on the dance floor.

“Finally,” Derek says, wrapping his arms around Aaron so he can't leave. “Five minutes. That's all I need.” Aaron is confused, but he's not trying to break free, he was trying to find Derek after all so really, Derek just made his job a lot easier. His senses are overloaded and Derek is staring at him hungrily. People are bumping into him, elbows in his sides, and he's swerving to try and stay upright in the crowd.

“Five minutes for what?” He's blaming his sickness, he's still not feeling all better, his head is pounding with the intensity of the music.

“Alone with you...” Derek replies, so casually. His body is swaying with the music that has changed from thumping beats to something slow and syrupy that Aaron can't make out. It's loud, overwhelming, the lights go down and the sea of people sways in unison. “Oh come on, you can't be that oblivious.”

Aaron stares, blinks stupidly a few times and Derek backs up, hands releasing their hold.

“Wait...” Derek says, and he pulls Aaron off of the dance floor, ducks them into a dark corner near the bar where Aaron can relax a little, it's not so loud over here. “You really don't know?”

“I know that we need to get back out there before they send in reinforcements...” he says but he's breathless, still not sure what's going on. He can't let himself dive too far into the reality of the situation.

“I thought you came along today...” and suddenly, Aaron is surprised, Derek looks crushed and he's never had trouble with confidence before. The sheer number of people who would give anything for this moment and Aaron blinks like a deer in headlights. “I thought you knew. I'm sorry, we can go get dinner.”

“You know, you've been spitting out an awful lot of words to say nothing. Are you telling me you wanted to get me alone because you like me?” It sounds stupid, just saying it out loud.

“In less clinical terms, yes.”

“You could have just asked me out, you didn't need to trick me.”

“When?” Derek asks, and Aaron has to admit, it's a good point. They aren't exactly supposed to talk. “I played that song for you...I sent you soup...I don't know how much more obvious I could have been without being able to just talk to you.”

“Listen, they could cite you in direct violation of your contract for coming in here when you...”

“Aren't cleared to have cameras inside of an establishment that hasn't given written permission and I'm supposed to be on camera at all times except for when I am in the bathroom? I know...”

“If...wait...you read your contract? You...then why...”

“How else was I going to get you to notice me?” Aaron leans hard against the wall, feels the pulsing of the beat from the floor up into his legs.

“Derek,” Aaron says, clearly exasperated. It isn't that he's not interested, he's just flustered. “I watch your show EVERY DAY. I have nightmares every single night about it. Believe me, I notice you...”

“That's not what I mean. You watch the show for all of us, to smooth over shit we did that the network isn't going to like...I wanted you to notice ME.”

“Well...” Aaron mutters, pushing his mop of hair out of his eyes. “We have a few minutes...” And Derek grins. They don't move back to the dance floor, but they do crowd together in the corner and find that they both very, very much enjoy eachother's company...and lips.

On Day 34, Derek has been using the bathroom window to sneak down to Aaron's loft after hours for a week, climbing down the fire escape and staying until he can barely keep his eyes open. Aaron was surprised to find out that Derek, too, had gone to law school and even though they come from pretty different backgrounds they have a lot in common. Sheepishly, he admitted that he hadn't bothered to read the bios MTV had provided him with, he really couldn't imagine being interested in any of these people beyond just making sure they didn't sink the ship.

Day 45 has Aaron accidentally on camera, they have to blur out his face because he refuses to consent to his likeness on screen. The fans go wild trying to figure out who Derek is seen holding hands with, and kissing, outside of a sandwich shop. The fan mail doubles with desperation.

Day 54 brings a death threat, and Aaron is beside himself. It's written for him, and now the legal team is telling him he's got to stay away from Derek to keep them all safe. What the showrunners had originally thought would make them edgy and hip is now putting people in danger, they've got to pull back. They're beefing up security, and Derek has to do damage control by being seen with a number of different people, each time breaking Aaron's heart. He understands, he even recommended it, but that doesn't make it any easier.

By the end of the six months, MTV is begging Derek to take a job as a VeeJay, and he says yes because it means he gets to stay close to Aaron who has been given a promotion to the channel's legal team, unattached to a specific show. His mother is having a fit.

"What will I tell people? Your father is rolling over in his grave..."

"Let him."

Derek's first week hosting Yo! MTV Raps! is a success, and he's the most popular he's been. He's the face of MTV, and Aaron has his hands just as full - just because they're living together now doesn't mean he's given up on his antics. Aaron eats Tums by the handful and deals with it. Derek likes when he picks the tropical flavors better than mint, the kisses taste like candy.

“What did I do to deserve this kind of punishment?” he moans watching footage from the day, but he's in Derek's arms and he's smiling. So long as Derek works for MTV, Aaron has what he likes to call job security - his hands are full at all hours of the day keeping the station protected from his partner's antics. The job on The Real World was a stepping stone, he was right, he just hadn't seen where the path would lead him.

[tarlos-spain]

Comfortember Day 2 - Hugs

Fandom: 9-1-1 Lone Star

Pairing: Carlos Reyes/TK Strand

Characters: Carlos Reyes, TK Strand

Hug you again

Two weeks of quarentine is too much for Carlos and TK but finally is over.

Carlos looked at the time. It was five seconds to midnight. He smiled and felt his heart beating almost desperately. Four seconds later, the doorbell rang and he gave a little gasp, walked the two steps that separated him from the door and opened it with an almost trembling hand.

TK appeared with a bundle of red roses which he placed in front of her, she couldn't see his face and for a moment she felt like throwing the flowers aside so she could see her boyfriend's face. He had been tired of seeing him through the screen of his cell phone, computer or tablet for days. But he agreed to play along and accepted the flowers.

"Fourteen days." TK said. "We're both past quarantine, we're both vaccinated and I don't know what you say, but I can't wait to set foot in my house again, hug you and spend the wee hours of the morning making love to you." "Come here, baby."

Carlos opened his arms wide, dropped the flowers and picked up TK who leapt down. They flipped around, like a fifties movie and kissed like a twenty-first century one.

"No side effects?" asked Carlos taking his boyfriend's face with both hands and gave him a good look. "I'm fine and you? How did the fever go?" "It's gone and there's no more headache." "Are you sure?"

TK gave him a kiss on the cheek, one of those mother sounding ones and another on the other cheek, just as hard and was about to give him the third when Carlos burst out laughing and tried to pull him apart but TK liked to turn into Koala and hugged him until he was breathless.

"That's it if I still have some of the virus left now you have it. Can we go to the couch, make out, or go get ready in the kitchen and make out or can we go straight to bed and do everything and make out too?"

Carlos wrapped his arms around her waist and led him to the couch.

"You now sit here and let me prepare a surprise for you."

TK pulled him over, made him sit on the couch and lay on his chest. He needed to hug him and the way Carlos closed his arms around him, squeezing him and then... How he'd missed that kiss at the base of his head that turned him into a puppy. He could fall asleep like that, if it weren't for the fact that he had of making out between the sheets of his bed, between Carlos's legs and spending hours making love to him.

"How I've missed you, Daddy." "You've missed calling me that, haven't you? You couldn't do it from the computer with your father always around." "What a fool, you are. But yes. It doesn't sound the same when I say it through a screen, I don't see the same face you make." "What face? And don't ever say that cow-eyed thing to me again." "No, when I call you daddy, we both know I'm the only one who calls you that, it's like a secret of ours and you make that face like you're the happiest man in the world. The same one you have now."

TK sat up and took in those eyes, that mouth, that breath, those hands.

"There's no fucking virus that can keep us apart." Carlos whispered. "And I'm going to spend the next two days hugging you in every room of this house." "Just this weekend?" "That for starters, but if you let me, I'll hug you for a lifetime."

[fanfictasia]

Comfortember Day 24

Alt. Frozen 

Spoiler: This is an excerpt from The Mandalorian Effect

A quiet noise behind him draws his attention, and he turns around to see a young boy standing in the doorway of the shop, probably having come in from the junk yard around the back. His blonde hair is long, and he’s dirty, but his eyes – his familiar, familiar eyes – are a bright blue. For a moment, Rex feels frozen as he stares at the boy that can be none other than Anakin himself. This – he –

Rex feels a flare of rage that Anakin, his General, went through this, lived like this. He steps forwards, slowly, and Anakin stills, eyes darting around the shop and landing on Watto’s dead body. For the first time, Rex sees a flicker of fear in Anakin, fear of him.

“It’s okay,” Rex promises, pulling off his helmet to let Anakin see his face. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

Anakin stares back at him, eyes narrowed, distrusting, and he would be lying if he said that it doesn’t hurt. “What do you want?” he asks, and Force, he sounds so young. He’s a child, but he’s not like most children. He doesn’t have the innocence of childhood, not anymore.

“I was looking for you,” Rex answers slowly, wishing that he knew better what to say. He really didn’t think this through, did he. How should he deal with a child slave? “I wanted to free you.”

Something, that looks very much like a tentative hope, flickers to life in Anakin’s eyes. “Why me?”

“Because you are special, Anakin,” Rex replies, feeling suddenly choked. “You are special, and you should not have to live as you are. You – you deserve better than this. You deserve to be free.” It feels so strange, so surreal to be talking to his once General like this, but then again, this Anakin isn’t his General. He never will be. Rex will make certain of it.

“What about Mom?” Anakin inquires.

Rex’s General never spoke much about his past, but he did, sometimes, mention his mother, if only in passing. From the little Rex knows about her, she had died, somehow, tragically, and the scars of her death were ones his General always carried with him.

“She will be free too,” he assures.

There’s a moment of silence while Anakin regards him before he steps closer, fully into the shop. “Why’d you kill him?” he sounds more curious than anything else, and it hurts, in a strange way, to see how unfazed he is by Watto’s death.

“I thought to buy you, to free you,” Rex admits. “He was unwilling. I am – I am a Mandalorian.” He nearly stumbles over the word; it’s freeing, somehow, to be able to call himself that and not be associated with the Clone Wars or looked down on as lesser, because of his origins. “We are warriors. It is how we live.”

“You’re a real Mandalorian?” Anakin sounds intrigued, almost excited, and he comes closer, suddenly abuzz with energy. “That’s so wizard! I’ve heard stories about Mandalorians and about Jedi at the spaceport from people who come through.”

[heyitsme1040]

Lost in the Crowd [p.p]

summary : Peter feels socially awkward around your friends. When one of your friends seems uninterested when he answers her question, you’re quick to save the day. Peter appreciates how you come to defend him. 

pairings : TASM!Peter Parker x Reader

warnings : None (if I missed anything let me know!)

word count : 340

AO3 (x)

a/n : Day twenty-six of Comfortember is here! The prompt was ‘friends’. The random name ‘Cecilia’ holds no meaning to this story. I literally asked a friend for a random name (thanks Meg) and she was apparently watching New Girl. 

Peter admired how much of a social butterfly you were when it came to your friends. He was sitting behind you, enjoying having his arms wrapped around you to keep you from sliding off his lap. He rested his chin on your shoulder so he was facing your friends. It was your bi-weekly friend hang out, and this time you and Peter had opened your apartment to host them. He was quiet, never quite sure how to interact with others. He was listening to you all chat, quietly adding a comment occasionally. 

“So, Peter, what are you studying?” Your friend, Cecilia, asked him. 

“I’m studying biophysics,” Peter responds, used to the question. 

Cecilia scrunched her nose, “Biophysics?”

Peter felt your thumb rub his knuckles. “Yeah. It’s the study of how physics’ theories and methods apply to biological phenomena. It’s really interesting,” Peter’s voice grew confident as he explained.

“Oh,” Cecilia sounded bored. 

Peter sagged in his seat slightly, feeling embarrassed. It wasn’t often he spoke up when your friends were over, so he was already putting himself out of his comfort zone. 

“Cece,” your voice piped up, drawing her attention from Peter. “How’re your nursing classes going?” 

“They’re–” She began.

Peter felt you sit up in his lap slightly, “I mean your business classes. You did just change majors, right?” Your words were just loud enough to draw the attention of all your other friends. They began asking Cecilia about why she changed her major and when it had happened. 

Peter coughed to cover the laugh that was escaping him. The way all your friends were suddenly interested in Cecilia’s change of studies was comical. It was so different from everyone’s engineering, chemistry, and physics majors. It shocked them that she was suddenly no longer in science classes. 

“Thank you,” Peter whispered against the shell of your ear. 

You shrugged, giving his hand three quick squeezes. I love you, he thought at the message you were subtly telling him. He tapped your side four times to respond I love you too. 

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[fanfictasia]

Comfortember Day 24

Family 

Spoiler: This is an excerpt from Inheritance, a fic we have yet to release. ^-^

“Master…” he starts, not entirely sure what he’s trying to say. “I’m – I’m sorry for – for everything.” He knows how entirely insufficient that is, after what happened, but it’s all he has to offer. Not even Anakin can bring the dead back.

“I know you are,” Obi-Wan reassures.

“I don’t… I don’t deserve your forgiveness.”

“Regardless, I still… care for you.”

His breathing hitches, and he dives forwards, wrapping his arms around Obi-Wan again. “Are you sure you’re alright?” Anakin mumbles into his shoulder. “You’re not this… emotional.”

“I see a journey to the Dark Side hasn’t made you any less dramatic.”

“It’s his nature,” Ahsoka cuts in cheerfully. How does she always know the worst points to join conversations?

“Excuse my still very snippy apprentice –”

“I’m not your apprentice. I’m your sister.”

“Keep telling yourself that.”

“I must say, I am mildly surprised you haven’t killed each other yet,” his former master remarks.

“I hate to say so, but so am I,” Anakin grumbles. Ahsoka moves a little closer, but it doesn’t make him feel awkward like it once would have. She’s a part of his family now. At the end of the day, she stood by him even when Obi-Wan didn’t, when no one else did. Her presence is a form of moral support, in a way, because he knows she’ll stay with him even if Obi-Wan doesn’t, which… Anakin is quite certain he will.

“Are your children alright?” he asks somberly.

“Mmhmm. They’ll recognize you, no doubt. Do you want to see them?” He doesn’t know why he suddenly feels shy. It’s not as though Obi-Wan hasn’t seen them before, and it’s not as though there’s anything strange about it, but… he fears rejection, that an unknown something might be enough to push Obi-Wan over the edge and make him leave. He’s spent all this time knowing already that he’s a failure, that he’ll never be able to live up to being the person Obi-Wan wants him to, so why is it… hard?

“I’m already dealing with one Skywalker too many, today. Come.” He pulls Anakin over to the couch, where they settle down next to each other. It was a joke, but it still stings, in a way, because he honestly thought for a long time that Obi-Wan didn’t want to come back, to be with him. “It’s been a long time. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Anakin blurts out automatically. “It’s nothing.”

“Talk to me,” he requests, fixing Anakin with the look that demands answer. It’s not something he can ignore, even if his time as a Sith tells him he shouldn’t give in so easily.

“I didn’t think you’d want to come back,” he admits.

Obi-Wan’s expression remains mostly blank, though Anakin senses a flicker of… something he can’t quite name. “If there’s one thing you must know, it’s that I’ll always come back for you.”

Anakin closes his eyes, a wave of adoration and gratitude and a million other things he can’t and won’t take the time to sort out right now washing over. “Thanks,” he whispers. “I love you, Master. I always will.”

Obi-Wan doesn’t speak, but he lays a gentle hand on Anakin’s arm, the touch warm and grounding. It feels like… it feels like home.

The twin’s squeals suddenly split the air, and moments later, Luke and Leia race into the room. “Uncle Obi!” they squeal in unison, running over to them. Ahsoka walks in behind them – when did she leave the room? They’ve heard enough about Obi-Wan that even if they don’t consciously remember him, they still know him, in a way. And they have a bond with him, so they remember his impression in the Force. It’s not as though Anakin didn’t talk about him all the time.

Anakin leans down to pick up the twins and they settle in his lap, chatting a mile a minute about… literally nothing, and Ahsoka seats herself on Anakin’s other side. “I hope you’re gonna offer to take babysitting duty,” she chirps, “They’re miniature terrors.”

“Oh, I’ve been looking forward to it,” Obi-Wan quips.

“Good to hear,” she shoots back.

It’s…almost surreal to have them all here. Things might never be what he once wanted, especially not with Padme gone, but Obi-Wan – his father – is back and he doesn’t think he’ll leave again, and he has his children. Rex is here too, and Ahsoka who’s become so much like a sister. He wouldn’t actually say Ventress is like a sister, but they’ve become relatively close over the years as well. At the end of the day, even if he lost everything, he still has a family.