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#have you ever met a sane jedi
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Anakin: The Jedi Council are so wise and calm, nothing ever angers them, theyre so composed.
The Jedi Council in question:
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moontheoretist · 11 months
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Red Siths and Yoda’s race
When I started watching Mandalorian I was already pretty deep into SWTOR and I read a bit too many articles on Wookiepedia about the times even farther in the past than The Old Republic.
That knowledge obviously had later gone into use when I saw Grogu and started thinking about the race Yoda, Yaddle and Grogu come from. The natural conclusion to which I came is that they must be an ancient species as there are not many of them in Movie Era, and they have naturally very long lifespan (which the existence of Grogu put into perspective if he is 50yo, and he is still considered a toddler and can't yet speak, only able to communicate telepathically via the Force with other force users). They natural strength in the Force was then established by the fact that all 3 representants were forcesensitive and the fact that Yoda's midichlorian count was supposedly the highest until Anakin - artificial made child - came into the picture and kicked him off his pedestal when it comes to the count alone.
It's also very interesting that Yoda, Yaddle and Grogu all are more prone to be drawn to the Light Side, though Grogu showed some signs of being tempted, but if that is concerned even Yoda once said that he felt the pull of the Dark Side, so it's probably just a normal thing. Still, the preference for the Light may imply that they are one of the few races in the SW lore that are born attuned to the concrete Side of the Force. Which brings me all the way back to the Red Siths and their natural affiliation to the Dark Side, because they are born attuned to it.
Attunement doesn't mean you can't use the other side obviously, but it definitely affects how you view the side you are attuned to - it’s natural for you to view one rather than the other as normal as it's part of you, your whole genome and your whole species. It also may imply some way of natural resistance to the negative effects of the Force. I barely ever saw any Red Sith that could be considered "fallen" by the Jedi standards. Hell, we mostly met former Jedi who had "fallen", which brings me to the conclusion that if you are born attuned to the Dark Side, there must be some benefit to it. Siths also don't tend to shut down their emotions, which greatly influences their relation to the Dark Side, as bottled up emotions and unresolved traumas can affect the person in such a way that they will fall into the Dark with no safety lines. Lana Beniko is my favorite example of a Sith to give, because she is simply pragmatic, not evil. She considers killing in some situations just more beneficial than not. She is reasonable, she doesn't cackle like fallen Jedi, and she in general can be seen as sane. Anyway, what brought me here is the idea that Red Siths are scarce or nonexistent in the MovieEra, which is understandable considering that they were 1% of the Empire's population already during The Old Republic Era. Still, they may have been aware of the existence of the species that Yoda is from, due to both being ancient species attuned to the Force.
Tenebrae's birth on Medriaas also implies that Red Siths existed not only on ancient Korriban, but also on different planets like Medriaas and Ziost that establishes their access to space travel as far as 5000BBY or farther. That means that knowing Yoda's species personally may have been very easy for them, especially if they met during some wars. I just like to think that if our Pureblood Siths ever met someone from Yoda’s species, they would like “oh, it’s you!”
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cherrykenobi · 3 years
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even if for a moment
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pairing: obi-wan kenobi x reader
warnings: i realized i characterize obi like a gentle himbo the other day so there's that ig
note: heeyy. i’m back lol how have u all been <3
There is something indisputably attractive in the way he holds himself.
He is the model citizen, you think. Words drip from his tongue like the most lascivious wines - he is firm and unwavering in his work, loyal to a fault. He is exquisite. Perhaps the Galactic Republic’s most valued general and yet, when it comes to love, you find Obi-Wan Kenobi is horribly sophomoric.
Not that you mind, of course. He remains charming in every sense of the word, and is all gentle smiles despite his fumbles. Imperfection, perhaps, is one of the greatest points of your patchwork relationship. You realize this in the long corridor of the Jedi temple, fingers barely brushing your robe as you walk. Your hurried pace seems to attract no attention except for the dust motes that clutter the windows and pirouette with your movements. 
You haven’t seen him for months and months, neither of your schedules having allowed for a moment of peace since the war’s beginning. There’s a thrumming, youthful anticipation humming just under your skin, the kind that warms you to your toes and reverbs in every step farther, because you’ll see him today - really, truly see him.
Days’ worth of scenarios flitter through your head, daydreams of weeks past finally coming to light as the familiar, buoyant feeling buckles itself into the base of your throat. It’s a welcome sight after so long. You’re not even sure how much time will be granted for the two of you in private company but you’ll be seeing him, at the very least, and you suppose that’s enough for you. It’s enough for now. 
The hallways have never seemed longer or maybe your legs have never seemed shorter but you’re gearing up to complain about it when you speed walk into a solid, sturdy presence. The apology barely leaves your lips before a deep, familiar laugh finds itself at your ears.
You should have known the whole ordeal wouldn’t have gone like any daydream.
“Going somewhere, General?” Obi-Wan asks, and the smile that slants his lips is more vivid than any other dream. 
“Don’t call me that,” you say, but your mouth is already tilted into a smile of your own. The remark is quiet and kind and you hope he can hear it over the roaring in your ears.
“You seemed very dutiful rushing off like that,” he insists, “one might think you have more important places to be.”
A beat of silence. A tender, pulsing thing that bursts all in an instant. His smile softens and curves into something like affection, something that slumps his entire demeanor and turns it into dogged relief at the sight of you. “Hello, darling.”
It seems more intimate, somehow, and your nerves pick up all over again. A spark of challenge finds itself to your eyes and to the tone in your voice instead, and you tug at his sleeve in playful complaint. “Four systems in three weeks and you, on none of them? Stars, Kenobi, where have you been?”
“I’ve been around,” he muses, and then chases the opportunity to take your hand in his, calluses much more gentle than they ought to be. “Perhaps the issue is that you are just unable to catch up with me.”
It’s a comfort that you’ve missed sorely, nerves flickering in your chest and drying up like rain at the ease of it. “Not a chance, only I think that you’ve just made yourself scarce on purpose.”
“Do you really think that I would ever hide myself from you?” 
“No,” you reply, perhaps much faster than the question warrants. The moment is far too tender for a Jedi’s corridor and something in you calls to let go of his hand but you can’t quite, not just yet.
Seeing him standing here after so long is still… surreal. His hand is in yours and it’s grounding, centering, sane. Only the fact that Obi-Wan lives and breathes is a miracle - here, amongst a war so unrelenting you can count on both your hands the number of times you’ve tasted death on your lips this past month; tangible. You wonder what he’d say if you told him this, told him that the gentle heave of his chest makes you more grateful than you’ve ever known, that the shine of his eyes looks like a sky your soldiers have not lived to see. 
You wonder if he thinks the same.
Your thoughts seem to reach him - they always do, there’s always something about him that knows - and Obi-Wan’s grip seems to tighten for a moment. His smile shies into a soft sort of grimace.
He brings your joined hands to his lips, presses a kiss. Everything in you calls to find privacy because the sun has seen so little of your love that it seems out of place to indulge in such a place. Not out here, not where someone could turn a corner and meet with blatant disrespect of all the Jedi Order has worked to represent. You look at him.
“—How long are you—”
“—Are you staying until—”
“I’m sorry, I just—”
“—no, only that I—”
The resulting laughter is private, soft and mingled and good. It makes you feel lighter, somehow.
War hangs so much heavier on your shoulders since the last time you’ve met that the very idea of missing him has wrapped itself into an afterthought, set in feather downs and laid to rest against the jagged edges of battle. Here, though, as you share clumsy laughter, it seems worlds removed from the hostility and bloodshed you have come to know. 
“Walk with me?” he asks. Obi-Wan’s head ducks down for a moment, his gaze meeting yours with the same unpolished sort of affection that you’ve become so fond of. Some unsaid restlessness sits beneath your interactions, some fear of leaving and an inability to ever spend a moment’s peace together. 
The undoubted terror of departing and never seeing him again aches at your throat, bunches into a lump, and you want nothing more than to ignore it, even if for a moment. 
You swallow it whole, and steel yourself. “Of course.”
tags:) @obirain
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blacklilyqueen · 2 years
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Memories - 12 Days of Rexsoka
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Prompt: 12 Days of Rexsoka Day 2: Just like old times / Memories
Summary: Ahsoka is thinking back to her most important memories with Rex. 
Pairing: Rexsoka
Word Count: 1571
Warnings/tags: Angst (with some fluff)
Authors Note: I can write two things: smut and angst. And since I’m not allowed to write any of the first for this event, here we go
Read the story on AO3
Tagged Blogs: @12-days-of-rexsoka​ @rex-is-best​ @flybynite19​
“So, if you’re a captain and I’m a Jedi, then, technically, I outrank you, right?”
“In my book, experience outranks everything.”
Ahsoka often thought back to the moment she first met him. She was so overwhelmed by everything back then. Her new master, the new environment, all the clone troopers, the war. It seemed like an endless series of new impressions. She was so young back then, too young. Of course, she didn’t feel like that back then, she was full of energy and couldn’t wait to get more experience just like the clone captain told her. From the moment they first met, she had liked him. However, she would have never guessed where their relationship was leading back then. Yes, they were close, but not in that kind of way. But their friendship got stronger over the years and after leaving the order, she noticed that he was one of the people she missed the most.
“The Republic couldn’t have asked for better soldiers, nor I for a better friend.”
She meant what she had said back then. No other person in her life had ever held a similar position in her life like Rex did. She felt safe around him, could let down her guard and talk to him about what worried her. Even when Maul told her about Anakin, she felt the immediate need to talk to Rex about it and no one else. He was calm and steady, giving her reassurance and a feeling of belonging. Being with him felt like being home.
“We need to leave. It’s not safe here.”
It was as if she could still feel the warm touch of his hand on her shoulder back then. She had been starring at the graves of all the men for what felt like an eternity. Her lightsaber was laying on the ground beneath her and it would remain there, marking the grave of the part of her, that she was leaving behind forever. Turning around, she faced the man without whom she would have died earlier. His face was filled with sorrow, grief and guilt. Neither of them spoke, when they walked to the small ship and nor did they on their flight to the next safe planet. But they didn’t have to. The presence of each other was already enough to keep them sane. Ahsoka knew that she wouldn’t have made it without him. Neither during the Order 66 nor afterwards. They were all they had left.
“I’m sure that with time your nightmares will go away. And until then you got me.”
“Thank you, I’m so glad to have you.”
Amber-golden eyes were all she saw in that moment. It had been months since the Order 66, but the nightmares didn’t leave her alone. When she had had them for the first time, she didn’t want to talk to Rex about it. She was too embarrassed that she had woken him up with her screams. But he assured her that everything was fine and calmed her down. He stayed with her the entire night and she couldn’t have been more grateful. Over time it just became a habit that the two of them would spend the night laying next to each other, calming the other down with their presence and being there in case of another nightmare. This meant both of them, because Rex didn’t get spared by nightmares as well.
As she lay there, she couldn’t help herself, but get lost in those beautiful eyes. She didn’t even realize him moving, until she felt his hand caressing her cheek. His thumb brushed over her lips and she could see his gaze wandering down to her mouth. He looked into her eyes again. In response, she gave a small nod and closed her eyes, as his face came closer. When their lips finally met, it felt like electricity running through her entire body. Their lips only touched so briefly and yet it caused her to feel, like she never felt before. Soon their kiss intensified and she felt his hands all over her body. Her own hands started exploring his body as well. She had to admit that she had admired it a couple of times before, but she never dared to imagine something like this. They spent the rest of the night just making out and cuddling closer together.
Ahsoka often thought back to that moment. It was one of the happiest memories she had, because it was the first time since years that she ever truly felt safe and carefree again. She felt like she was maybe getting some happiness after all.
“You can’t just leave!”
“I have to. It’s not safe for you, if I stay.”
Tears were filling here eyes as she voiced the painful truth. It had been the second time that an inquisitor attacked them and Ahsoka knew that they were looking for her. They could feel her presence in the Force and wouldn’t stop hunting her until they found her. Staying with Rex meant risking his life as well. Alone he would have at least a chance to survive.
His hand was still wrapped around her wrist, holding her back as she was trying to turn around. Facing him, she looked right into his painfilled eyes. She reached for his face, resting her head on his forehead, before giving him one last kiss. Her heart felt like it was being ripped apart, knowing that she would never hear his voice again, never touch him like that again, never feel his lips on hers again. She didn’t know how long they kissed each other, to her it felt like an eternity and yet no amount of time would have ever been enough. When their lips parted, it felt like a part of her soul had left her body to stay with Rex.
This time he didn’t hold her back. Her arm simply slipping out of his lose grip, as she turned away and left.
“You got old.”
“Had to happen sometime, Rex.”
For what seemed like the first time in over a decade Ahsoka finally felt true happiness again, when she saw rex standing in front of her. She didn’t care about anything or anyone around her anymore. When she wrapped her arms around him, she hoped that she would never have to let him go ever again. And yet it was over so soon, she quickly thanked the Ghost crew, who were all still standing there, knowing that she needed some time alone with Rex if she really wanted to tell him all the things, she wanted to tell him.
But she didn’t get to do that. As soon as the two of them were finally alone, his lips were on hers again and she got lost in their kiss. Swinging her arms around him, she felt her whole body relax. Having him here with her again was all she had wished for in the past years. She had missed him more than anyone else before and she promised herself that she would never leave him again.
Before she had seen him, she was afraid that he might be mad at her for leaving him. Or maybe he would have simply gotten over his feelings for her and she would have had to deal with him being around her, but never really being hers again. But the moment he touched and kissed her all of her worries just faded away. He was here and he loved here, even after all those years apart. When they stopped kissing, his hands were holding her face, his faces still only inches away from hers. She felt his warm breath on her lips as they both just stood there, looking deep into each other’s eyes and smiling.
Careless. Safe. Happy. Free.
Those were the words that came to her mind, when she thought of her time with Rex. And yet none of these words seemed to do justice to the feeling she actually got, whenever she was around him. A feeling of having everything she could ever want and more. The moments she spent with him, were the happiest moments of her life and she would remember them for the rest of her life. Yes, thinking back she realized that being with Rex were her happiest memories.
And being apart from him the worst.
She placed her hand on the stone in front of her, her fingers brushing over the spot where his name was engraved into the stone. Tears began rolling down her cheeks as her knees gave in and she sunk to the ground. This time he was the one who left and unfortunately, he wouldn’t return again. The last time she left, she felt like leaving a part oft her with him and this time she hoped that he had left part of himself with her.
“I love you,” he said, after he kissed her for the first time.
“I love you,” he said, when they were laying next to each other each night.
“I love you,” he said, when she left him.  
“I love you,” he said, when he broke their first kiss after more than a decade.
“I love you,” he said, before she was leaving to Malachor.
“I love you,” he said, as he took his last breath.
“I love you,” she said, as she kissed the grave in front of her and left.
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kazmirone · 3 years
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obikin rough draft fic excerpt
After he’s hit with a curse on Zeltros, Obi-Wan can only speak after being kissed.  
For Anakin, it’s a big problem.
Notes: Someday I will finish this. Someday lol. Anyway, have some unfinished cracky fluff where the Clone Wars are over, Palps is dead, and everything and everyone is fine lmao. I’m trying to decide what’s more satisfying: a cursed Obi-Wan only regains his ability to speak after being kissed by a pining Anakin, or Anakin stews in jealously as he watches Obi-Wan kiss everybody else. Because this fic is the latter route.
*
Mace Windu cleared his throat as he shifted away, a flush spreading across the sharp planes of his face.  He and Obi-Wan were very pointedly not looking at one another, and they both stared off at random points of distance around the chambers.
It would be hilarious, Anakin thought, if it wasn’t so annoying.
“Explain it to us again, you must,” Yoda said.
“Shall I,” Obi-Wan began, voice rough from disuse, “shall I start from the beginning?”
That little, green troll smirked. “Most helpful, that would be, Master Kenobi.”
*
It’d been one of those rare, easy assignments.
A snatch and grab, in and out before the shuttle engines had even cooled.
Really, Anakin should have known better.
*
“Perhaps the solution here is an obvious one,” Plo Koon said to the rest of the Council, after Obi-Wan had finished recounting their mission’s details. “Master Kenobi can simply communicate with datapads until this affliction passes.”
Nieber Boton, one of the few Zeltron Jedi in the Order, shook her head. “This is very old Zeltron magic.  I fear he will lose his voice for good if the proper treatment is not administered.  Every full standard day, at least, if I had to wager.”
“And kissing, the only treatment is?” Yoda asked.
The chambers broke out in a flurry of conversation.
Force, Anakin wanted to sink into the ground.  He wanted to sink right into Coruscant’s molten core.  Most of all, he wanted the Council to stop talking about Obi-Wan like he wasn’t even in the room, or that a potentially viable solution might be Obi-Wan’s permanent silence.
Anakin looked over at the way Obi-Wan was rubbing his thumb over his brow, saw how tight and tense he was holding his body.  Over the Council members’ bickering, he asked, “What do you want, Obi-Wan?”
Obi-Wan’s hand stilled, and he looked over at Anakin.
“What do you want?” Anakin repeated. “Do you want to just use datapads and risk losing your voice forever?  Or do you want to, well, treat the problem?”
“Ah,” Obi-Wan said, after a long moment. “I do quite like speaking, I suppose.”
“You like the sound of your own voice, you mean,” Anakin quipped, because he felt like the moment needed some levity or something.  
Obi-Wan shot him a withering glare, but the tilt of his mouth betrayed him.  It was the first time Obi-Wan had smiled since their kriffed up assignment, and Anakin felt stupidly drawn to it, so much so he missed the way the chambers had fallen silent around them.
“Settled, it is,” Yoda said.  “Help you, we will.”
*
For Obi-Wan’s treatment, help was easy to find.
For Anakin’s sanity, this was sort of a problem.
*
After Windu, the first person to kiss Obi-Wan was Jocasta Nu.
“I think you made that old bag’s year,” Anakin said, scowling at her retreating back.  There was a real spring her step now that hadn’t been there before, he was sure of it.
“Don’t be rude, Anakin,” Obi-Wan said, hoarse.
“You’d think she’d encourage your issue, really,” he continued, “less talking in the library.”
*
Halfway through evening meal, Obi-Wan’s voice dropped off midsentence.  
He’d been challenging all the details of Anakin’s dubious retelling of the time he’d fought a rancor without a weapon, nudging Anakin under the table with his knee at every increasingly ridiculous claim, laughing with the rest of their mealtime companions, when the sound behind his words was just…gone.
The whole table went silent with him, watching the way his eyes widened.  It was obvious, to Anakin, that it was the first time it’d happened to Obi-Wan since he’d been cursed.  And it was obvious, to everyone else, that the sharp flare of alarm in the Force wasn’t entirely Obi-Wan’s.
“My sincerest apologies, Obi-Wan,” Plo Koon spoke first, remorseful, gesturing to his mask and goggles. “I am afraid I cannot assist you in this way, although I would like to.”
“I can help you,” Boton said.
The fork in Anakin’s mechno hand creaked audibly under the strain of his grip.  Obi-Wan peered over at him, brow furrowed, then turned back to the very beautiful, very willing Zeltron woman seated across from them.  He nodded, because of course he did, what sane man wouldn’t.
When they met in the middle, Obi-Wan and Boton, Anakin should have looked down or away.  Everybody else had.  It was the polite thing to do, after all.  But Anakin didn’t.  He watched their lips brush, slightly slick and slightly open and Anakin felt slightly sick.
“Better?” Boton asked against Obi-Wan’s mouth.
Obi-Wan pulled back and sat down hard, coughing lightly into his fist. “Much, thank you.”
Boton grinned. “Anytime.”
*
“Obi-Wan had to kiss Chancellor Organa today,” Ahsoka said, while they worked on her ship’s jump drive. “I guess the meeting ran too long or something.  Anyway, he said it was all very professional.  Went right back to his presentation and everything.  The Queen was even there.”
Anakin sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose between two fingers. “Well, at least this Chancellor isn’t a Sith Lord.  Pass me the hydrospanner, will you?”
*
Obi-Wan on his knees was a sight to behold, Anakin had to admit, but so was seeing him getting pecked on the lips by Grand Master Yoda.  Together, they watched him toddle out of the room, his tiny gimer stick clacking on the floor as he went.
“That was the most upsetting thing I’ve ever witnessed,” Anakin said, once he was sure the grandmaster was out of earshot.
“I need a drink,” Obi-Wan said, toneless. “As quickly as possible.”
“First round is on me,” Anakin said, consolingly, patting his shoulder.  He made the mistake of glancing down just as Obi-Wan sat back on his heels and wiped his mouth on his sleeve, and Anakin didn’t know what to do with that image, so he just looked away.
*
After, with the taste of spotchka heavy and thick on his tongue, and the memory-image of Obi-Wan’s kiss swollen mouth burned into his fuzzed-out brain, Anakin rolled over in the dark and didn’t sleep until first light.
*
“That looked, uh, wet.”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
Anakin watched Fisto amble away. “Those tenta-”
“Anakin,” Obi-Wan said. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
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bedlamsbard · 3 years
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For anyone who missed it earlier, some concept writing went up today! New universe, new concept.  (You can always tell my stress level by how much whump I’m writing and I am currently very stressed.)
950 words written today, same concept, character I haven’t written since 2015.  I’ll go back to other side, just wanted to write this bit.  Today was uuuuuhhhhh not a good day, since I have been supremely messing up my sleep schedule the past few days and today that culminated in sleeping in until 3 pm and making myself sick as a result.  So that was entertaining.  Did laundry, didn’t do schoolwork; had been planning to bake but felt too nauseous from too much sleep to do that and basically had to trick myself into actually consuming food with white rice and miso soup. Watched a chunk of my current rewatch show (Vikings).  Mleh, as a day, generally.
Snippet from Ryloth dream AU concept 3.  Behold! some backstory. 
The Jedi arched his eyebrows.  “Well?”
“Well what?”
“No one’s ever said that you make rash decisions, Senator.”
“Then you haven’t been talking to people who know me very well,” Hera said dryly.  She ate one of the shaak kebabs, savoring the rich taste of the spices and meat, then relented and said, “His name is – was – Caleb Dume. He was padawan to Depa Billaba; I met them when they were on Ryloth just before the Fall.”
Anakin bit his lip. “I’m only going to ask this because Mace will ask me, not because I think you’re mistaken.  Are you absolutely certain it’s Caleb?”
“I’m certain,” Hera said, frowning at his tone. “I was sleeping with him five years ago, too, not that it’s any of your business or Master Windu’s.  Why?”
“Because when Mace and I made it back into the Temple after the Purge, we found Depa Billaba’s body, but not Caleb’s.  And there was –”  He flicked his fingers in a gesture.  “A residue in the Force.”
Hera hesitated, then told him what Caleb had told her about the forced master-apprentice bonding.
Anakin cursed in Huttese, then asked flatly, “Is he sane?”
She frowned at him again. “Yes.  Why?”
“Because if a forced bonding doesn’t outright kill someone, it can break their mind – shatter the way they connect to the Force.  It’s why Jedi won’t do it unless every other option has been exhausted, and even then, if we have to, there are ways to lessen the likelihood of something going wrong. They don’t always work.”  He looked down at the plate of flatbread and bean paste in front of him.  “Mace recognized some of the symbols around Master Depa’s body when we found it, but not all of them.  But that’s not something the Sith do normally.  If this master of Caleb’s, this traitor, found a way to mix Sith and Jedi Force techniques – if he did it to break a padawan after murdering his master –”  His gaze was very cold when he looked up.  “He has to die for that.”
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sammisweets143 · 3 years
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A New Family Member (OC x Hunter)
Summary: The Bad Batch and Jedi General Sienna Nellock have just gotten off of the Ordo Moon and are in Hyperspace. Sienna is having difficulties coping with her place amongst the batch since she no longer has the Jedi (her family) and she feels out of place with the clone squad. Hunter decides to make her an official member and act on his feelings toward her.
Pairings: Hunter and Sienna (My OC)
OC Description: Sienna has several braids that are pulled into a ponytail fit for any Viking warrior (think Lagertha from Vikings). She also has the same plastiod armor the Clones and Bad Batch have, hers of course are the slate grey/black. She no longer uses her lightsaber, instead she uses a blaster and a knife, just like Hunter.
TW: Wholesomeness, Steamy kiss scene, feelings of not belonging, *I think that about sums everything up*
Notes: I am still learning the steamy/love scenes between characters if any creators have advice I’d love to hear it!
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There was a quietness on the ship after take off from the Ordo Moon. Sienna rather enjoyed it.
It was the first time in awhile she’d actually gotten to meditate without interruption from anyone. She sat in the copilot’s chair, releasing a calming breath as she centered herself.
The force flowed through her almost immediately, letting her feel the entire ship’s energy in her grasp. From Omega’s bubbly and energetic spirit to Echo’s hard yet kind spirit, everything was in her grasp again and that made her feel better. It was hard not letting the force in due to the fear of being discovered by the enemy. What if someone knew she was still alive and came for her? For the Bad Batch?
No sooner had she began to feel at peace, a presence she was all too familiar with entered the atmosphere. With her heightened senses she heard him coming first then when he entered the cockpit she smelled the familiar clean yet smoky fragrance he had to him.
“There you are, I was wondering where you’d gone off to,” Hunter’s smoky voice reached her ears as he sat in the pilot’s chair. “You’ve been unusually quite.”
There weren’t many places she could go to unless she released herself out of the airlock. No matter how hard she had tried, Sienna had managed to lose her grip on her control with him. He was forbidden fruit and she wanted nothing more than to have him. For several days now they’d been flirting, they even flirted when they first met, everything was innocent of course, up until recently. Their desire for each other was growing, and Sienna ached for the one thing she’d been told all her life she couldn’t have, attachment to someone.
When she had first met Hunter and the group it was when they were going on a covert mission to the Cyber Center and then to save Echo from Skako Minor. There was an instant connection, almost a magnetic pull between them. They both did their best to ignore the feeling, each having their loyalties set on their duties as Jedi and Clone Trooper.
What didn’t help them was when he’d kept her steady with his hand on her back or waist, or when the shuttle went down and his arm locked around her and she was pressed against his front. I got you, I got you. He repeated in her ear as if it was a promise, he wouldn’t let her go even if it killed them.
“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?” Hunter pressed on when she didn’t respond to him the first time.
“I shouldn’t have left Saleucami with you. I should’ve got on that shuttle like you told me to,” Sienna said, before she could even stop the words from spilling out of her mouth. When she uttered them it felt as though they hit him right in the face.
“I thought you wanted to?” His features hardened. “You fought me on this and I-“ he stopped as he could sense she wasn’t acting right. “Hey, you are just as important as any of us.” He knelt down in front of her.
“I’m not one of you, I just don’t feel like I belong.” She said. “I’m not a clone, I’m a Jedi. What use am I?”
He nodded as he looked at her. “Okay.” He stood up. “Stay.” He pointed at her and went to retrieve something from a cabinet. He came back and sealed the cockpit so it was just the two of them. “Come here.” He knelt down again and pulled her closer and turned her so her shoulder was to him.
“What are you doing?” She asked as he was grabbing her and moving her.
“Quiet.”
“Hunter.”
“Sienna, I said be quiet. This takes concentration,” he looked at her with a hint of playfulness in his eyes. She rarely got to see that look from him anymore.
He opened one of the container and it was white paint. “Don’t move,” he ordered as he began to paint on her pauldron.
She did as she was told and didn’t move, so she took the moment to look at him, really look at him. The side of his face that wasn’t tattooed had a light dusting of stubble, the other side did too but this side was visible. His lashes were long, and when he blinked they’d dust across his cheeks gently.
As her gaze swept over him she seemed to fall deeper into the trance that was Hunter. All caution was out the window now, anything could happen. And anything did. She found herself reaching up gently to stroke his cheek as he focused on painting, the tiny stubble barely poking at her finger tips. It was one of the most simplest, yet intimate things both had experienced that they let the quiet moment consume them for what seemed like forever.
“Tell me about your tattoos on your back,” He finally said, needing a distraction. “What’s special about them?”
She cleared her throat and took a breath. “I got them because on each planet or moon was where I learned something.” She said.
“Tell me about your favorite one.” He prompted her.
“Sorgan.” a little smile graced her lips as she recalled the memory. “The children there loved to race and play, they were part of this family that owned a farm,” she began. “The mother was so kind and she had a new born with her but she always managed to be doing something strenuous and that benefited her family and community with the child strapped to her.”
“Sounds like quite the woman.” He nodded. For a brief moment he pictured her doing the same thing. She rarely rested since she’d been with them, and she doted on Omega. She never let that girl out of her sight if she could help it, much like himself.
“I also just fell in love with the planet itself. They say it’s just some backwater planet but it’s so beautiful. I’d live there if I could.”
Another picture pushed its way into his mind, of them on that little plant in the middle of nowhere with a farm of their own, a couple of kids running around, maybe his brothers not too far away. He quickly pushed that thought down so not to get ahead of himself. Hunter chuckled some. “Tell me another.” He coaxed.
“Kashyyk, I learned how to shoot a crossbow,” She smiled and bit her lip. “Very fun, and I met several force sensitive Wookiees.”
“Really, interesting.” He smirked as he dipped the brush into the paint again. “A Wookiee with a lightsaber seems unsettling. Could be just like Wrecker with a lightsaber, imagine.”
Sienna let out a small laugh. “They’re very skilled with weapons surprisingly. May I continue sergeant?”
“By all means, General,” he all but purred that statement before resuming his painting.
“Kamino, like I said is where I learned friendship, thanks to 99.” She said. “Well and Rex and the rest of the guys.” She shrugged a little.
“Don’t-” he grabbed her shoulders and chuckled some. “You’ll make me smudge it.”
“Sorry,” She laughed. “Um, let’s see, I actually was dared by Echo to get Endore on me but since it’s a forest planet I didn’t mind.”
“Seems to be your theme, forests and oceans.”
“They call to me the most,” a sigh left her lips, but it was a sigh of relief. “I often wonder if that’s where I’m from, someplace with a forest or water.” She said
“You don’t know where you’re from?” The lines on Hunter’s face settled into a deep frown as he asked her that question.
“I was a toddler when I was given to the temple, I wasn’t told where I was from.” Her voice became gentle, as if she spoke too loud the memories of her past may break. “I’ve come to peace with it.” Her opposite shoulder rose into a shrugged. “Not knowing where your home is I guess is good, so you don’t know if it’s a bad place.” She bit her lip. Sure she said she came to peace with it but occasionally there was a part of her that yearned to know her parents, her home. All the trivial things that many great Jedi were willing to part with.
When Hunter looked up at her he realized she was watching his face. He set the brush down in the container and held her hands. “Your home is with us, you are Sienna Nellock of Squad 99.” He said. “You’ll never be told differently.” He released her hands and then cupped her face being as gentle as he could. “You are here to protect Omega, be a role model for her. You are here to reassure Wrecker that eventually he may be able to blow things up or beat someone up. You are here to make sure Echo isn’t a grump to everyone since he favors you, and to give Tech something new to talk about besides manuals and random plants. Most importantly, you’re here to keep me sane, drive me wild, and make me strive to protect this squad even harder.” His voice was soft as he recited his speech, stroking her cheek with his thumb after each declaration.
Sienna’s pulse jumped as he held her face and spoke to her in the gentlest of ways he’s ever done. “That’s one of the best things that’s come out of your mouth ever. Thank you, Hunter.”
He smirked and pulled her closer. “You have such a way with words,” his voice got slightly huskier as his lips brushed against hers. He was taking a big risk doing this, but he wanted Sienna to know how important she was not just to the squad, but to him.
When his lips touched her’s, that caused her brows to furrow as her eyes closed. This was unexpected but she welcomed it none the less. They weren’t what she expected, his lips, she had expected them to be dry from constantly wearing a helmet but they were actually soft. Returning the kiss was almost instinctual for her, as if she’d done it hundreds of times before. She gripped the back of his neck and pulled him close, causing him to let out a low, hungry grunt, at that point it was the most attractive noise she’d ever heard and she didn’t care about anything else.
Hunter pulled away, wanting nothing more than to keep kissing her but their need for air plus his need to keep a handle on everything took precedence. “So, that’s what it’s like to kiss a jedi?” He smirked.
“You know, I imagined kissing a clone would be weird, like I’d be kissing a friend since you all are the same-” She began.
“But?”
“I suppose since you are genetically defective that might make you better at kissing.” She joked and smiled.
A chuckle escaped his lips as he picked up the paint brush again. “Almost done with this, be still,” He said as he moved her chair so she was turned to the other side.
“Yes sir.” She said as she rolled her eyes. They sat in a comfortable silence as he finished painting her other pauldron and he leaned back, admiring his work.
“Alright, have a look.” He said and smiled.
The excitement built up in her as she looked down at her right pauldron and it was the Jedi crest but adorning each peak was the skull of Clone Force 99. Then on the left was the signature skull with 99 below it. “Hunter,” Sienna smiled. “I love them, thank you.”
“You’re a certified member of the Bad Batch now,” Hunter smirked. “This armor definitely suits you even more than before, I’ll be the first one to admit that.”
Sienna laughed and smiled. “Hunter,” she shoved him playfully. Before she could go anywhere he grabbed her hands pulling her against his chest.
“Would you prefer it if I said I’d rather see it on the floor?” A smirk grew on his face.
“Well, it wouldn’t be the first time something like that came from you,” she mimicked his expression as she pulled him closer. “We’re alone for at least another hour-” she reminded as she stared at him with a new found desire in her eyes.
“Say no more,” he silenced her with a kiss and picked her up, securing her legs around his waist tightly.
A breathy laugh escaped her lips as she pulled away momentarily for air. This was the first time she was able to touch him, memorize his facial feature, run her fingers through his silky, dark hair, and look into his eyes without the feeling of being watched by an audience. He gave her very little time before he pulled her back and hungrily kissed her, letting his tongue explore her mouth. He kept a firm grip on her thighs, keeping her as close as psychically possible. Occasionally, he’d give them a squeeze to make sure this was real, she was real. Like her, he felt like this was their chance to do anything they wanted, no interruptions. The final question, where was he going to start?
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ayo-cowbelly · 4 years
Text
Maybe - Captain Rex x Reader
*All POV’s will be female unless requested otherwise*
So.... I’m in the mood for angst. This idea has been in my head for days, and I’ve been listening to a lot of instrumental soundtracks lately, which only fueled this (lots of Across the Stars and Burying the Dead). Eventually I decided to just sit down and write it.  Got pretty into italics with this one. It’s kinda long. Also this is the first time I’ve posted something like this, so I hope you like it :)
Part two can be found here!
Y/n: Your name
Y/l/n: Your last name
masterlist
***
You walked the never-ending halls of the Resolute, a neutral expression on your face. Your mental shields were strong, or as strong as they could be. You weren’t really sure if you were fooling anyone. 
Hopefully you were, because if people (namely, other Jedi) sensed your inner turmoil, things could go horribly wrong; after all, Jedi don’t feel this way. They don’t spend their nights crying silently, hoping that nobody hears. They don’t simultaneously curse and cherish their memories with a particular person. Jedi do not have broken hearts. 
Because a broken heart could mean you broke up with someone. And to do that, it usually means you fell in love. 
And Jedi do not fall in love. 
Except... when they do.
*** 
It started two years ago, when the war had just begun. When you had first stepped foot onto the Venator-class starship that would soon become your home. When you met him.  Your captain, CT-7567. Rex. 
“Hello, Captain.”
“General.” 
“Sorry, do you have a preferred name? Seems we should get to know each other a bit.” 
“It’s Rex, General.” 
“Well, Rex, I look forward to working with you.”
“And I you, Sir.” 
That’s where it all started- and eventually ended.
***
The war was hard on everyone. You watched as the people you knew so well started to- well, change. Anakin seemed angrier, Obi-Wan more stressed, and you… you seemed, for lack of a better word… hollow. The men dying all around you, your order seemingly breaking (you were never meant to be soldiers, yet you lead men who had never known anything else), it felt like you were being crushed on the inside. Yet, you had him. 
He was there. 
Whether it was quiet talks in the night, locked eyes in the briefing room, or a lingered touch in a turbulent LAAT/i, he was there. The war escalated and the world changed and sometimes it felt like your soul was on fire with pain- but he was there, until he wasn’t. 
Eventually it really was too much. The war put a strain on an already fragile relationship (Jedi are not meant to fall in love). The threat of you being caught had always loomed heavily on both your heads. You would be expelled from the only family you’d ever known… and he would be court-martialed, or worse- decommissioned. The thought of the man you loved being cast aside and killed for following his heart plagued you with fear. 
Fear was not the Jedi way.
You started fighting. Little things, that sometimes exploded into larger issues. The survivors’ guilt and the stress of so many battles (you never knew what the next day would bring; could one of your names be added to the list of remembrances? You didn’t know… and didn’t want to, ever) made you both edgy and it was hard to discuss it without conflict. 
Your relationship burned bright for so long until it crumbled. 
“So, that’s it then? A year, and then… we’re just… done?” 
“I think that would be best, Sir.” 
“Don’t! Don’t call me that! Not now! Right now, I’m just Y/n, and you’re just Rex. You and me! What happened to that?” 
“It’s not right, General-” “Stop calling me that!” 
“It’s what you are! You’re the general, and I’m the captain. Jedi and clone. That’s all it ever should have been, and it has to go back to that.” 
You were supposed to be the composed one… but your emotions were spiraling and gripped your heart. “I won’t let it.” 
“You don’t get to decide that, Sir.” 
“Rex, I-” You choked out, but couldn’t finish. You didn’t even know what to say. What would fix it? 
You just watched as he put his helmet back on and left your room quietly. 
With your head in your hands, you tried, really tried, to repress the tears- until you couldn’t. 
***
If your Co-General and Commander noticed your changed demeanor, they were kind enough not to mention it. You and Anakin used to have a game, of sorts, of who could get away with the craziest maneuvers on the battlefield without an injury- whether it be jumping out of a flying LAAT/i, taking on a whole droid squad alone, or grabbing onto a rocket droid like a speeder. You and Ahsoka would team-up and tease Anakin together pretty often around the ship. But that all changed. 
You wouldn’t take on as many droids alone- something Kix was probably happy about. The crazier ideas all came from Anakin, the more “sane” (as the rest of the legion would call it) plans came from you. Ahsoka would poke fun at Anakin while you watched with a forced almost-smile. Actually, that forced content on your face was probably your most common expression these days.
Life took on a grayer hue. 
So, you worked on shielding and repressing, keeping your pain hidden until the dead hours of the night. 
***
Were the hallways smaller, now? It felt like it. Every turn, every corridor, no matter where you went, it felt like he was always there. Somehow, you ran into him everywhere, with a shallow nod and the slightest of glances. 
 2 years. Strangers. Friends. Lovers… Then strangers again. 
It was a cruel cycle. 
***
For a while, you had thought about requesting a battalion to lead alone. At the beginning of the war, you had been assigned to co-lead the 501st due to your familiarity with Anakin- both Crechemates and eventually Padawans with your masters as good friends, you spent a lot of time together growing up. The Council felt it would be good to have their resident loose-cannon lead a legion with another, to make sure he didn’t go too off the rails.
 What the Council hadn’t realized was that yes, while you were the more rational of the pair, you enjoyed Anakin’s crazy plans- most of the time. Sometimes, they really were insane, which was where you stepped in. 
A bonus of being assigned to the same legion was that you met Ahsoka. The young Togruta sometimes felt like your own Padawan, and you adored her. She was endlessly curious and brave, and wise beyond her years. And you grew even more proud of her as she grew up. 
Now, she was older, and more experienced- and as she came into her own, you realized you weren’t always needed anymore. Granted, the missions were sometimes shorter and had more solid planning due to having an extra Jedi General around, but your presence was no longer a necessity. Anakin and Ahsoka would do just fine without you. Besides, leading a legion as large as the 501st meant you had to watch more and more clones be taken with every battle. The longer the war went on, the more recruits there were (who seemed to be getting younger all the time). 
And even though it was selfish, with your own legion you wouldn’t have to be around Him all the time. Maybe it’d be nice, to be away from him; maybe you could heal without the pain of it all filling you when you saw him. Maybe.
You could handle your own battalion. You were capable, and more than ready. You knew this, but didn’t necessarily like it. 
***
Eventually, you reached a decision. It was the last thing you wanted, to leave Him; you loved him fiercely, still. Yet, leaving was what you needed. You had to be at your best to lead the troops, and lately, your best was sloppy. It was time to reign in your emotions and gain control again. 
Of course, nothing was final, but the feeling of something ending echoed around you. 
The last time eating in the mess with the men who almost felt like brothers. 
The last time going through a briefing with your Co-General, watching Admiral Yularen’s face fill with exasperation and irritation as Anakin laid out a daring plan. 
The last time you met His warm Golden-Brown eyes in the halls. 
Your comm chirped, and you ducked into an empty storage closet to take the call. You were met with Masters Yoda and Windu’s holographic forms. 
“Something you wanted to discuss, you had, young Y/l/n?” 
“Yes, Master Yoda.” 
***
A week later, you stood in the briefing room with the usual command crew: Anakin, Ahsoka, Admiral Yularen, and Him. 
Deep breaths, Y/n. In, and out. “I called this meeting because I have some… news, and I thought you should be the first to know.” You glanced around at them, swallowing. “I’ve requested to lead my own battalion- and it’s been granted.” Letting that sink in, you continued: “I’m leaving at 0800 tomorrow morning, in my fighter. I’ll head to Coruscant, where I’ll meet the men, and then we’ll ship out sometime next week.” 
Silence. 
Anakin was the first to speak. “What do you mean you’re leaving?”
“I’m getting my own battalion. I requested it a few days ago.” 
“Why?” You heard the growing anger in your friend’s voice and decided to tread carefully.
“Anakin, you don’t need me here anymore. Ahsoka’s more than qualified to lead the 501st with you, and with the war- there’s more and more troops who need leading, and not enough Jedi to do it. But I can, and I have to; It’s my duty. The Council agreed with me.” 
“Y/n, when did you talk to the Council about this?” 
“A few days ago- but it’s been on my mind for a while.” You said gently. You didn’t meet His eyes, didn’t even look over there; if you did, your resolve would crumble. You just kept your gaze on Anakin, occasionally looking to Ahsoka. She looked surprised, and a bit sad, but understanding. Anakin looked… well, it was wise to be cautious of your tone. 
“Do you know where you’ll ship off to?” Ahsoka asked politely. 
“Not yet, but I’ve heard that it might be Cato Neimodia, or maybe Anaxes. I can’t be sure, though.” You looked down. “I just thought you all should know first.” 
“Well, best of luck, General. It’s been an honor.” Admiral Yularen nodded at you, then went out to the bridge. Eventually, Anakin and Ahsoka left too, the latter guiding her Master with a soft hand on his arm. 
That left you and the Captain. Alone, for the first time in weeks. 
“So… your own battalion. That’s… big news,” He said quietly. “I know you’ll do well.” 
“Thanks, Rex,” You practically whispered. “I’ve enjoyed our time together,” You met his eyes briefly, barely keeping the floodgate of emotions at bay. “I’ll miss working with you.” I love you. I love you more than anything. 
He nodded. “And I you, General.” 
***
You left that next morning, with your men watching from the hangar. His presence, the one you had treasured and held onto like a lifeline... the one that got you through the worst of it all, the one you had loved (and still did, so much), stayed behind, slowly fading from the forefront of your mind. 
It’s for the best. 
Maybe you’d start to heal. 
Maybe. 
Fin. 
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ilonga · 4 years
Text
new sw oneshot!
for the discord’s prompts event:
old ghosts
summary: 
In a galaxy where Anakin Skywalker never became Darth Vader, a crash landing on Tatooine leads to an unexpected meeting.
Or, if you will, a short snippet from a Clone!Vader au
notes:
for the Star Wars Discord Prompt "Crash Site" which I somehow straight up forgot was meant to be a prompt for shipping and not gen, oops. sorry guys! so I just wrote out a scene from on of my aus I have yet to finish outlining/start writing in earnest.
background for this au: - It's clone vader - canon divergence is at the scene where palpatine reveals himself as the sith lord in his office--anakin doesn't join him and palpatine uses his contingency plan instead, switching him out with a clone - revenge of the sith proceeds pretty much exactly as canon other than that - anakin has met vader both pre-suit and after the suit, but doesn't know how vader got the injuries - he's under the impression that ahsoka, obi-wan, and all the other jedi died in order 66 - anakin's kept in captivity for several years until he finally escapes - and then he starts joining the rebellion, finds out about the chips, etc
ok off we go, have a oneshot
also warning for blood and injury I think, although it’s not really described in detail
ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26683576
He wakes up with a lightsaber to his throat.
Anakin’s first thought is that the shade of blue seems rather familiar. His second thought is that it hurts, hurts, hurts—there’s an intense pain in his right leg—his right side really is his unlucky side, isn’t it—he tries to sneak a glance at it, but his vision is blurry and movements sluggish in a way that usually means blood loss. He can tell, however, that it’s definitely bent in a way it really shouldn’t be. There’s also a jagged ache in his chest, making his breaths come in shaky rasps that uncomfortably remind him of Vader. Probably some broken or at the very least cracked ribs there. 
His shoddy replacement prosthetic’s been mangled beyond recognition, too. He must have gotten it caught in the wiring while trying desperately to keep the ship aloft. Now he’ll have to start from scratch again.
Unlucky right side, indeed.
What had happened? He tries to remember, but he only gets flashes. They had found a lead on—on the chips, something to do with deactivation, maybe Rex’s whereabouts, and then someone had caught sight of him—an Imperial? Had it been an Imperial? Yes, he thinks so, and then there was that desperate chase—
A wave of nauseous pain and dizziness overtakes him, and he blacks out. He doesn’t know for how long. A few seconds? Minutes?
Okay, maybe it hadn’t been the smartest thing to do, causing a diversion like that, and maybe most of the moves he’d pulled off during the ensuing battle had been reckless and straight up foolhardy. And damn, maybe jumping to hyperspace with a damaged reactor had been plain stupid. This crash was on him. But he remembers the desperation, the sick fear, the resolve that he’d rather die than go back there, rather obliterate himself on this miserable hellhole of a planet’s surface then let Sidious ever touch him again—
A low humming interrupts his thoughts. Right, the lightsaber’s still there. Where on earth had that come from?
A few more blinks and attempts to clear his hazy mind, and he realizes he’s not where he was when the ship crashed. In fact, he doesn’t think he’s on the ship at all. He’s surrounded by beige, sloping walls that remind him of a typical moisture farmer’s hut, though they’re slightly rougher and falling into disrepair. And there’s—ugh—sand. As if his prosthetic hadn’t already been damaged enough. So someone had. . . rescued him? 
Or maybe he’d just died in the crash and gone to hell. 
“Don’t look at me like that,” he tells his ever-present hallucination of Obi-wan Kenobi. “It wasn’t my fault the ship crashed.”
Wouldn’t that be a wonderful way for Anakin Skywalker to go out, after all these years hanging on to survival by barely a thread. A ship crash. On Tatooine. 
For half a second he can almost convince himself he hears Ahsoka’s snicker in the distance, making some comment about him “always blaming the ship”. But he knows better. Ahsoka’s dead. Obi-wan is dead. All that’s left of the Jedi is him and some old ghosts.
The hallucination is still there. Anakin blinks a few more times and his vision clears further; yes, that’s Obi-wan’s lightsaber he’s hallucinating pointed at his face, reminiscent of that time the two had run into Dooku by way of Hondo’s ridiculous scheming.
The hallucination looks. . . older. Usually when Obi-wan pops up in the corner of his vision it’s his Clone Wars self, or sometimes even his Padawan self if Anakin’s feeling particularly guilty. And he looks angry. Suspicious. Shuttered.
“Who are you?” The hallucination says, and Anakin’s world stutters to a halt.
He’s heard voices before. 
Lots of them. 
Obi-wan. Padme. Ahsoka. Rex. His mom’s even, when he’s particularly out of it. For all that they were signs of his sanity siphoning away throughout the years, they had also probably been the only thing keeping him sane in the miserable cell, in between ‘visits’ from Sidious that he can’t—he can’t let himself think about, even now.
And they’d followed him, the voices, later hallucinations, comforting him, taunting him, lecturing him, calming him, throughout his escape from Sidious’s grasp and subsequent careening throughout the edges of the galaxy. But this voice is different.
It sounds. . . real. Present. It resonates in the force with truth.
But that’s impossible. He felt Obi-wan die. He had heard Cody’s report—not Cody, it hadn’t been Cody, it had been the chip, not Obi-wan’s loyal commander, his friend—Sidious had set aside a copy for Anakin, just to see him break.
The Force has been muddled for years. But he reaches and—yes, that’s Obi-wan’s presence in front of him, pulsing bright and steady. It couldn’t have been anyone else. 
“That’s—that’s impossible,” he can barely recognize his own voice, it comes out so shaky, “you’re dead.”
“Funny,” says the figure of one Obi-wan Kenobi, very much alive and very much not a ghost, “I could say the same thing to you.” 
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sarcastic-bubble · 4 years
Text
Bounty Hunter
Paring: Sith!Anakin Skywalker/Darth Vader x Reader (Basically we just pretending that Anakin didn’t get real crispy at the end of RoTS) 
Word count: 2.6K
Warnings: Well ya see, it’s pure filth. Dubcon, Oral sex (male receiving) It’s also just a little bit trash in general. 
Summary: So not really requested just part of my all-out smut war with @sithmyass. But basically, you are a bounty hunter dumb enough to take a job going after Darth Vader.
A/N: I don’t even know what the hell I’m writing anymore. Horny me channels such a different energy that I don’t even know anymore. Also, it’s like one in the morning so this is only half edited. 
Masterlist
It was cold. Why the hell would anyone hide somewhere so cold? Especially someone who could take out any foe that came for him. Yet here you were tracking your quarry through a frozen wasteland. But maybe that wasn’t the most ridiculous part. Anyone would call you insane for going after the Sith Lord. You were only a bounty hunter after all and no matter how skilled you were your quarry was still a Sith. And not any Sith; Darth Vader himself; although your employer had referred to him as Anakin. 
You weren’t quite sure what had driven you to accept the job in the first place. The pay was good; the man who wanted Anakin dead had very deep pockets. But you supposed it was your curiosity that drove you to accept in the end. You grew up on tales of Sith. They were scary stories of an era long gone and the cruel people who ruled it. They were supposed to be dead, killed off by the Jedi. And then the clones wars started and all of a sudden the Sith had returned. 
It was hard not to be curious about a group of warriors that weren’t supposed to exist anymore. Especially one so shrouded in mystery. So, despite all of you better judgment you had taken the job. The job that had lead you to a planet so cold you felt the small hairs in your nose freeze a little more with every breath. The cold was also making you slow, physically and mentally. Your joints were stiff and numb and every thought was interrupted by the harsh shivers that racked your body. 
You were so caught up in trying to bring any semblance of warmth back to your fingers and trying to figure out why you got yourself into this that you didn’t notice the men surrounding you. You continued to be oblivious to their presence up to the moment one was jumping you from behind. 
You fought back, or well, you tried too. Your reflexes were slowed by the cold and the raging snowstorm made it hard to see anything but what was directly in front of you. As you broke free from the first man you were grabbed by another. This cycle continued for longer than you’d care to admit, and with the size of the group unknown to you there seemed to be no end in sight. 
The end did eventually come though, in the form of a harsh electrical shock. Your body seized up, every muscle clenching as tight as it could. Shortly after the world went black. 
When woke you were greeted with warmth; something you had so desperately been searching for earlier. It was so pleasant that you considered going back asleep until you remembered the events that had transpired. There was no doubt that your assailants had captured you and moved you here after you lost consciousness. Your eyes opened slowly and you took in your surroundings. You were on a starship. Whether it was grounded or not was impossible to ascertain. 
You pushed yourself to your feet, a loud groan escaping from you. Everything hurt. With only your hands’ bound escape seemed possible. You would only need to find your weapons and then escape would be simple. 
The cell door hissed open and closed, the quiet sound drawing your attention to it. Leaning against was a man you’d recognize anywhere. You had spent hours staring at his face over the last few weeks and now you had finally found him. There was the small problem of your capture but that did stop a small sense of pride. You had finally found the man who had been eluding you. 
You took a step back for every step that he took forward until your back hit the wall. His very presence was intimidating. 
“You’ve been chasing me for a while now, haven’t you? It’s nice to finally put a face to the most recent pain in my ass. Care to tell me why you’ve felt the need to track me over several systems?” His voice was smooth and even as he spoke. His eyes, an unnatural yellow, looked you up and down: leaving you to feel self-conscious. 
You wanted to disappear into the wall. If you had your weapons you wouldn’t have been afraid. But you didn’t, and you weren’t an idiot. Trying to take the Sith with just your fists would be a death sentence. And with no idea of what his intentions for you were; you just wanted to keep as much distance between you as possible. He didn’t seem to feel the same, his approach continued until he stood within arms reach. He was quite handsome up close. His dark dishevelled hair and the scar down the side of his face grabbed your attention first and then came his charismatic smirk. 
But you couldn’t let yourself become distracted, especially not by a man who could kill you without warning. “Does it really matter why I followed you? You’re just going to kill me anyway,” you said, your eyes locked onto him; making note of his every move. If he knew you were a bounty hunter you wouldn’t last another minute. But seeing as he was unaware of that little detail you hoped to be able to dance around the real answer long enough to come up with an escape plan. 
“What makes you think that?” His arms crossed but the rest of his posture seemed to relax, and if the tone of his voice meant anything he almost seemed to be amused by your defiance. 
“You’re a Sith Lord, arent’ you? Isn’t killing thigs what Sith Lords do?” He was stepping closer to you again but the solid durasteel wall at your back kept you from retreating anymore. 
“Sometimes,” His answer seemed to casual, “but not always.” He was close enough that you could feel his breath against your forehead. “Now, are you going to answer my question, or am I going to have to find the answer myself?” 
His question went unanswered. You were afraid your voice would betray your nerves. You couldn’t seem weak in front of him. His hand shot out and grabbed your chin; his grip firm and unrelenting. “I was really hoping I wouldn’t have to do this.” Your head was tilted up harshly to face him. His gaze seemed to pierce through you; to see you every thought. Including those at the very back of your mind. The ones that enjoyed how rough he was with you. The thoughts that couldn’t seem to get enough of his smirk. Under his intense gaze, you felt yourself shake. You wanted to look away; to look at anything but him. But his hold your jaw never let up enough for you to move. 
His face came closer to yours, once again the duralsteel wall ruining your attempt to retreat backwards. “You like this, don’t you?” He asked, his voice low. 
“No, I don’t.” You tried to sound confident in your response but your voice betrayed you; the words coming out broken. Thoughts of escape were becoming naught but a distant dream. 
His breathy laugh sent shivers through your body, “you’re curious about the Sith, aren’t you?” 
“I-” You were cut off by the grip on your jaw tightening. 
“Don’t bother saying anything. I already know the answer” His grip relaxed as he spoke but still remained firm. “Why don’t I reward you for the information you gave me. I let you see a side of a Sith Lord that not many live long enough to see.” 
“Why… why would you offer me anything?” The words were quiet and uncertain. 
The laugh that escaped his ever smirking lips was darker this time, “I’m just looking for an excuse to fuck you. It’s not often a have a pretty girl like you completely at my mercy.” 
You wanted to run more than before, well most of you wanted to run. There was still that one part of your mind that reacted to everything he said. And it was telling you to stay and let him have his way with you. “But--” 
He stopped you again. “Don’t bother fighting, sweetheart. I’ve seen your mind. Even if you won’t say it out loud,” his face moved closer again; his lips hovering next to your ear. His voice dropped to a whisper, “I know you want it too.” He caught your earlobe between his teeth, pleased by the surprised gasp he was able to pull from you. 
His face was in front of yours again, “from now I’ll do all the talking. Do you understand?” 
You nodded slowly. Your fear only seemed to fuel the lust that had begun to cloud his expression. 
He looked you up and down, taking his time to make note of your every curve. “It’s too bad I don’t have more time, you really are a pretty thing. I’d love to take my time with you. I can already imagine what it would be like to have you squirming underneath me. Maybe I’ll save you for later.” 
The sane part of your mind loved the idea of him ‘saving you for later’. It would give you time to escape. There would never have to be a ‘later’. But that irrational part, that was gaining more control with each word he spoke, wanted him, now. You rubbed your legs together in a search of some sort of friction. Anakin noticed. 
“But what sort of person would I be if I got you all worked up just to leave.” His fingers dipped below the hem of your pants. There was very little regard for your clothing as he removed your pants and bottoms in one fluid motion. You heard ripping but with your cunt freshly exposed it was the least of your worries. You moved your legs together subconsciously earing you a disapproving looking from your captor. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” His hands were rough as he guided your legs apart. 
You closed your eyes in fear, and anticipation, of what he would do next. The sound of skin hitting skin echoed throughout the small room as his hand met you sex in a sharp slap. It was followed by the sound of you whining from the sudden pain. You didn’t notice his face move next to yours again. Nor did you notice that his lips were brushing against the outer shell of your ear until he spoke. “That’s for trying to hide from me.” 
His fingers dipped into your still stinging cunt. They only lingered there long enough to coat themselves in your arousal. He lifted the had to his face to admire the glistening fingers before slipping them into his mouth. The fight of him sucking them clean was obscene yet it only made you wetter; made that rational side of your mind scream even louder, you needed to run. But you couldn’t, his free hand kept you pinned tight against the wall. 
“So wet for me. I didn’t expect you to be such a filthy little slut and sluts like you need to be punished.” Anakin paused taking a moment to choose his next words or rather your punishment. His spit covered fingers traced your jaw before slipping themselves between your lips. They still tasted like you. “No cumming until I say so. Do you understand me, sweetheart?” 
Once again you nodded and that’s all it took for his fingers to slip from your mouth to your dripping cunt. They were slow at first, working the area around your clit in methodical yet teasing circles. Every time you thought his fingers were finally going to brush over that sensitive bundle of nerves they would move off in another direction. With every whine that escaped you, he would chuckle quietly and roughly kiss the sensitive skin of your neck; always succeeding in pulling another moan from your lips. 
His slow and gentle actions didn’t last for long. You felt a finger slip inside you only a moment later it was joined by another. His thrusts were harsh and fast, each punctuated with a crook of his fingers. You weren’t sure when he added a third, you were so focused on holding back the impending orgasm. With every motion, it came closer; became harder to resist. Yet you had too, you didn’t want to know what would happen if you didn’t wait for his permission. 
It never did come. His actions became quicker, his hand that had been keeping you held against the wall found a new home working on your clit. You couldn’t stop it anymore so you tried to hide it. With a hard bite to your lower lip, you were able to stifle your moans. But nothing could hide the way you came hard around his fingers. You could see his smirk grow through your clouded vision, this seemed to have all been a part of the plan. 
“Did I give you permission?” You felt a sharp sting in your cheek as he slapped you. “I don’t think I did. Now, what should I do with you?” You were fairly certain he already had something in mind. He worked quickly at the closure on his pants. Once undone the hem was pulled just enough to let his hard cock come free. The tip was glistening with precum, he had enjoyed teasing you. “Look at the mess you made.” He whipped what was left of you on his fingers onto his cock. Once satisfied he turned his attention back to you cunt. 
You tried to move away from his touch, the feeling of his cock sliding through your folds becoming more unwelcome as that rational side of your mind was able to take control again. But whenever you tried to move a hand was there to keep you in place. He rubbed himself against you until he had collected all that was leftover from your orgasm. He took a step back making it easier for you to get a glimpse of what he had been trying to achieve. 
Anakin’s eye’s met yours.”Get on your knees and clean it up.” His voice was demanding and the hand on your shoulder pushing you downwards left you with little choice. You opened your mouth to tell him to stop; to leave you alone. But the second your lips separated his length was forcing its way into your mouth. His hands were quick to find your hair; grabbing it roughly and using it to pull your unwilling mouth up and down the length of his cock. When the pain became too much you submitted. Your tongue worked against him trying to clean off every last bit of yourself from him. No doubt leaving even the smallest drop of your cum would lead to further punishment. 
He didn’t give you any warning before cumming in your mouth. But as he did you could hear him say “Swallow it.” The words were almost lost in his low moans. You didn’t dare defy him. 
He removed himself from your mouth and tucked his cock back into his pants. He crouched down, his face now level with yours. “You’re such a good little slut.” His thumb traced your lower lip in an oddly soothing manner. 
He slapped your face lightly as he stood. The cell door opened for his as soon as he stepped up to it. Before stepping fully through he shot you one more teasing smirk. “I wouldn’t get too comfortable, sweetheart. I’m hardly done with you.” 
The door hissed closed behind Anakin-- or Darth Vader; you never did find out which he preferred to go by-- leaving you in darkness with a fear that you may come to learn more about the Sith than you ever expected.
Taglist: @psionicsnow​ @wishiwasanavenger
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Love is History
*taps mic* is this thing on? (I stole that from Obama. He was still in office last time I posted my writing). 
So fun thing I did - write an angsty sequel to Love is Fiction. If you’ve never read it, it just got over 300 notes this past week. I figured it was time to dust this off from my drafts and complete it. 
I hope you like it and my voice sounds similiar to the last election year when I put this out. Honestly I’m so different now and I think this captures the changes I’ve gone through and the way I view relationships now opposed to four years ago. 
Love is History
“Art imitates Life right?” Belle closes the folder encasing a rough draft of her first few chapters.
“All good things come to an end.” Emma shrugs as if the concept of him being just a ‘good’ thing ending doesn’t devastate her. He was the best thing.
She thought she’d never write their break up.
“What’s the history?” Belle squints her eyes, nose crinkling as she watches Emma. Belle has been Emma’s ‘Editor’ since college. Now more official. She gets a paycheck, as Emma gets advances from a publishing company that started as a small mom and pop establishment. In the last four years, this little wagon wheel of a company is now a fleet of office buildings all over the US.
“You read book 3: “Wind’s Ally”” Emma leans back in her chair, studying Belle right back. “You know their history.”
Belle keeps her eyes on Emma, relaxing the tension in her face and suppressing a smirk. They’re at a bit of a stalemate here because Emma isn’t sure what more info is needed and Belle isn’t sharing her thoughts at the moment.
“Emma, I knew their history. They finished book 3 in a ‘happily ever after’ kind of way. What underlying issues could have brought them to this point? Why did Alysandra leave?” Emma considers the question. Why did she decide to destroy the happiest relationship she’s ever written? Why would a character who fell madly in love just change their mind? “Maybe, ask yourself why you left.”  
-/-
The sun is setting over the Manhattan skyline when she gets back to her apartment. She doesn’t know where she went after the meeting but her mind just got back to the present and she’s pissed.
Emma flings her keys across the kitchen island, kicking her heels off in a huff before stomping over to her bar cart. She pours his favorite whiskey into the anchor-etched old fashion glasses he got her one Christmas.
“History is a stupid word” she grunts to no one but a tilted glass, muffling the sound as the amber liquid meets her lips a second after. She’s taken up talking to herself these last few months. The first four were spent crying and avoiding her reflection. The loneliness finally set in one night and she made herself her own best friend. So she asks her best friend ‘why did you do it?’ as she feels the tension in her shoulder blades ease. Why? Why did Emma Swan leave Killian Jones seven months ago?
“Wouldn’t we all like to know?”
-/-
The nightmares finally stopped and she no longer wakes with a startle when she finds her bed bare of him. Its been 216 days. She’s cried herself to sleep at least 180. She’s been broken before, boys have left in more ways than one, and she has managed to wake up one day finding herself less damaged than all the others. Today might be that day for the Killian Jones saga.
Today is they announced the upcoming film and casting begins in a few weeks. She knows she needs to finish this novel, but she hasn’t finished much. She barely finishes lunch on most days, barely finishes a thought that isn’t dripping in Killian. It’s been seven months and he is everywhere, in everything. She thought progress was a slowly-operated escalator but she was finally on her way.
And then the congratulation calls come through. Text after text, email, voicemail and she’s sure in a week or two, she’ll get a card from Mary Margaret. She sorts through them looking for something she’ll never find and she has to rewind.
She left him. It wasn’t mutual and it wasn’t obvious. He had no clue. All the calls and texts he was going to send her were sent months ago when he was breaking down in voicemails and begging her to just tell him she was okay.
Congratulations, Emma, you saved him...from ever having to care about you again.
-/-
She doesn’t leave the apartment again until the 245th day. It is easy to stay inside with the modern advances in technology. People will bring literally anything to your front door. Except, maybe inspiration. That she has to go out and find.
She finds herself in Harlem. The Harlem Public Library. She has to get back to her roots. Sure, this isn’t Storybrooke, and no, she’ll probably never meet a pair of eyes as blue coconut as...but her work needs her to find a way to write.
She thinks of his face.
Three hours pass and all she has in a google doc is ‘why?’
-/-
Despite the first failure to launch, she finds she quite likes that library. She’s giving herself a pep talk this time, before she finds herself staring at a blank screen wondering why again.
“I left because I had to.” She looks at her reflection in her bathroom mirror. That’s the only statement she’s made to anyone, herself included. When her friends, her agent, her editor, and her heart ask, she tells them she had to.
She makes her way through her apartment, recounting the moments, hours, days leading up to it. There are very few things her mind makes enough sense to share. Everything else is so convoluted, so tangled up in self-loathing and years of agonizing loneliness, the average person wouldn’t get it. Some days, as she’s matured and healed, she finds even she has trouble understanding it.
There’s not a day that goes by she doesn’t spend half of it feeling nothing but regret. That’s the healthy part of her, the well-adjusted adult who grew from the little lost girl. She’s sane enough to know she threw away the best relationship she’s ever had. She’s sane enough to know she saved him from future hardships with her.
The sound of the empire striking back stirs her from her thoughts. Regina gets the Darth Vader theme as a ringtone so Emma never forgets who really owns her career.
“Hey,” Emma answers as she reaches her apartment door.
“Nice of you to finally answer your phone.” She can hear the glare in Regina’s voice. “You know you pay me to do this right? Not the other way around. Get your money’s worth, why don’t you.” Emma rolls her eyes as she packs her laptop in her messenger bag.
Regina Mills is a fierce woman, as charming as she is aggressive. She can pretty much get anyone to do anything she wants. Emma doesn’t practice in the ways of the force, but she’s certain Regina knows a Jedi mind trick or two, and as her agent, that comes in handy.
What doesn’t come in handy is her tie to Killian. Regina’s husband Robin happens to be Killian’s cousin. Emma avoided Regina’s calls for months after the break-up, afraid she’ll have to answer the same question she’s been asking herself all afternoon. Once she finally started accepting calls again, it seemed Regina had moved on to bigger and better things: A movie deal.
“Right” she sighs. “What’s my money bringing me today?”
“This isn’t money related, so much as a word of warning.” Regina’s tone doesn’t seem as sass-filled as before, so it’s clear she’s not the one wielding the threat. She actually sounds a bit sympathetic. “Belle and I pulled straws to see who got to break this to you, and I, unfortunately, pulled short this time around.”
“There’s a point here.” Emma urges, feeling ill-fated all of a sudden.
“Killian just moved to NYC.” Like ripping off a band-aid. Emma braces herself for pain, but is met with an absence of feeling altogether. Her knees buckle and she finds purchase against her kitchen island. “Emma?”
“When?” She whispers.
“Just a couple of weeks. He took a job with the NYC public libraries, he’s actually doing really well and has just approached Belle with an idea to get the youth excited about writing. There’s a chance you’ll run into him at the office, so I just...we both thought a heads up was necessary.”
“Which library?” because Fate is a nosy bitch and has no business showing up and guiding her to the man she ran from.
“Emma?”
“Which library”
“I think...if I recall correctly, his home base is in  Harlem.”
“I’ll call you back.”
-/-
She thought about leaving the country. At the very least, the state. She is overwhelmed, without a question just so damn overwhelmed. She has gotten so used to tears these days, she’s a little shocked she didn’t cry the minute she heard his name.
Her body had other ideas, because although she definitely meant to get on a train going the opposite direction, she found herself in Harlem 25 minutes later.
She sits in the middle of the library at an open table, clickity clacking as loudly as she can. Part of her really believes that maybe if she saw him, she’d remember why she left.
Another part is certain that masochism is her new favorite hobby.
He never appears.
-/- “Hey” Emma answers her phone going off for the eighth time today.
“Emma?” Belle sounds more relieved than usual. “Where have you been, I’ve been calling non-stop since 3.” Emma rolls her neck to view the time on the DVR.
7:45 pm
“Sorry, I’ve been reading all day.” she hasn’t talked to anyone for another two weeks. She does this far too often to still have a support system. Emma’s not sure she’d pour the same amount of effort into anyone who went radio silent every other week.
“We had a meeting at 2:30.”
“Sorry.” She shrugs, because honestly, nothing even matters.
“I’m coming over,” Belle says decidedly.
“No, Belle, you don’t have to do that.” Emma regrets answering on the eighth attempt. “Let’s reschedule.”
“We just did, I’ll see you in thirty minutes. Open the door.” Sure, she’s a small, sweet, meek-looking woman, but what most people don’t know about Belle is she could slay dragons with pure determination alone. In a battle of wills, she's even got Regina beat.
Emma peels herself off the sofa for the first time since noon, snuggie falling to the floor as she heads for the shower. If Bella can make the journey to her apartment, Emma can at least shower. Sure enough, 30 minutes later she’s greeting Belle at the door, a pizza in hand.
“Are you okay?” She sets the pizza on the kitchen island and wraps Emma in a hug. Emma tries to pull her head far enough to keep her hair from wetting Belle.
“Yeah, just...the creative process. Ya know.” Emma trails off as the hug ends. Of course, she’s not okay. ‘Okay’ people don’t stop answering their phones for weeks, they don’t stare at blank pages until their vision blurs. They don’t behave this way. This was her first shower in days.
“He was in the office yesterday,” Belle says after a long silence, just a full 3 minutes of her studying Emma from head to toe. Do her eyes just scream ‘Killian’ every time someone looks at her. “He said he called to congratulate you on the screenplay adaptation.”
“No, he didn’t.” She’s quick to dismiss. She scoured her missed calls for days looking for his name, he never called.
“How would you know, you never answer your phone, Emma.” She sits on a counter stool, tugging Emma to join her. “He’s going to be in every day next week, and I think…”
“No.” Emma cuts her off.
“Let me finish.” Belle opens the pizza box, sliding it toward Emma. “I think you should take a vacation. Get out of the city for a while, maybe visit Storybrooke, since you know he’s not there to run into.” Emma grabs a slice of pizza, not sure when she last ate but too preoccupied with the idea of leaving the city for a while. She ran to NYC. Now she’s running back to Storybrooke. Is he just going to chase her back and forth?
“Did he say anything else about me?” she hates the desperation gnawing at her.
“He asked me why…” Belle sighs “I told him we’ll all find out in book four.”
-/-
God only knows what compelled her to do the exact opposite of what Belle suggested and show up at the publisher’s office. Probably the same thing that led her to the Harlem library a few weeks ago. She bought a new outfit. She realizes she’s barely even worn jeans over the last eight months, and now she’s in a dress and heels like she has an interview to work here. She’s wearing makeup and perfume. She’s trying her best to cover up and signs of the wreck she’s been for months.
The office seems busier than it has ever been, many new, young faces bustling about. She keeps her features calm as she scans every inch of every room she enters for him.
“Emma?” Belle is hurried as she crosses the main floor to meet her. “What are you doing here?”
“I know.” Emma returns the hushed tone Belle is using. “I reworked some chapters, delayed the breakup, and gave more of Aly’s history.” and Belle nods, but is evidently not listening.
“He’s here.” Belle looks almost frightened. “So if you want to reconsider, I would do it now. Otherwise…”
“Swan?” no one calls her Swan. She’s paralyzed. What did she think was going to happen? How did she think she was going to react? When she paced around her apartment for three hours this morning, did she think she was going to just be okay? He would be here, he would see her and suddenly everything would be okay? “Emma…” He tries softer, less shocked, more timid.
This is the moment. In every love story, angst finds its way in, rips the reader’s heart out and although they’ve been bleeding for chapters now, they can feel nothing at this moment. Time is still, the lights are dim, and all we see is Emma and him.
He looks like himself, just more professional. He’s in well-fitted gray slacks, a navy dress shirt, his hair is longer though. He’s got more scruff on his neck than normal. His eyes are too blue, truly, for anyone to notice another inch of him. They stare at her, the same shade that’s been haunting her dreams, and she still struggles to define it. Everything. They’ve always been everything, no matter if it’s more cotton candy than blue coconut.
“Killian.” She swallows. Her throat makes this awkward gurgling sound and she wants to melt into the floor. Why is she here?
It’s suddenly so quiet but so loud. She can hear her heart hammering in her eardrums. No one says anything for a long stretch of time, maybe 2 seconds, maybe 3 hours, she can’t be sure. She just knows there is so much said in the silence.
“How are you?” She asks without thought. The look on his face is devastating.
“Sorry?” He mocks a laugh. “How am I?”
She’s not completely delusional. This is a thing humans say to one another, no? Why does it feel so foreign all at once, like she’s attempting English for the first time with a local?
“Killian” she sighs, releasing the most dizzying breath.
“I’m good” he grits, suddenly covered in constrained anger. “And you?”
And now they are strangers, all dressed up and nothing to talk about.
“Me?” Her tongue drags along her lower lip to buy time. “Good.” She nods.
“I’m just pleased everyone is good.” Belle smiles sweetly. “Now, Killian and I have a brief meeting, and afterward, if you’re still available, we can go over your rewrite.”
An exit strategy. This is quite possibly the only thing she could have hoped for.
“Swan was a bright young writer once” Killian grins, wickedly. “Why don’t you attend the meeting. We’re talking about a youth writing program.” He’s obviously bating her. How dare she show up on a day he’s here and act like she didn’t destroy him…
“Sure” she agrees. Partly because she’s too stubborn to back down from a challenge, and mainly because she did destroy him and there’s that whole thing about masochism she recently discovered about herself.
Belle looks beside herself. Her eyes narrow and she puffs her chest for a moment before leading them to a meeting space. Two more individuals join them, laptops ready to jot down notes and ideas. Her meetings are only ever with Belle so, for Emma, this seems like red carpet treatment.
He has amazing ideas. He loves the idea of bringing an artistic outlet to the children of Harlem. He was always so much more than a shelfer. He was always a dreamer, with these brilliant, compassionate ideas for helping everyone feel less alone, more encouraged.
She was always a fence, holding him back from the best parts of himself.
-/-
When the meeting concludes, Belle graciously thanks Killian for coming, makes promises of action, and attempts to say goodbye.
Killian, as good-natured and kind as he can be, has always had a persistently obnoxious side. He invites himself to the next meeting.
“This is only fair, Swan.” he smiles, though his eyes are full of darkness.
They regroup in Belle’s office after a bathroom break.
As much as Emma is dying on the inside, Belle looks absolutely disturbed by this. She can’t imagine the discomfort in being the third wheel of a breakup reunion.
“So...when we uh, when we left off, you were telling me why they broke up.” Belle sighs, knowing how awful this is. Emma smiles, hoping it lets her off the hook a little. After all, Belle told her to leave town. Emma decided to torture herself.
“Right.” Emma takes a large breath in, holding it while she pulls out her folder. Only releasing once its in Belle’s hands. Killian is studying her like he has a Chemistry final to take tomorrow and she’s the only hope. “Alysandra left Atlas for his…” She’s said it to herself. She’s made hints to others, but Killian has never had a clue. “For his own good. She’s derailed him from his journey. She’s made him less of a pirate, more of a…”
“More of a what?” Killian’s breath is sharp as it floods in through his nose and out through his mouth. “What did she do to him?”
“She reduced him to a caregiver,” Belle answers from what’s written in the text. “Alysandra took over the journey of discovery. She was suddenly the main character.” Belle looks up at Emma with a look she’d only be able to classify as “delayed understanding.”
“In a story about Atlas, Aly becomes the focus. Everything he does, he does for her.” Emma can feel herself losing composure, eyes stinging with tears, throat drier than a desert. Somehow, someway, she finds her way to Killian’s eyes. “He wasn’t living for himself anymore. He had no purpose but to love her. And it was destroying everything.”
She’s not sure if it’s understanding she expects, or maybe gratitude, for saving him from the needy monster that she is. She knows neither is what she received.
“Did you ask Atlas, perhaps… perhaps that’s what made him happiest?” Killian’s eyes are drilling into her like nails, pinning her against a wall.
She is less.
Speechless, motionless, hopeless…
Less sure she did the right thing. Less firm on her decision. Just so much less than she was the day before.
There’s movement after a long pause, not by her, but Belle, gently setting the files down and moving to leave them alone.
“Aly is an orphan” Emma explains and she can see his head start to shake, but she has to be firm. “Listen. She is not the strong-willed, rebel without a cause she pretends to be. Some days the sadness from being alone for so long stunts her. She spends hours upon hours laying awake wishing she could sleep forever. She can be a wreck, a mess, an impossible woman to love.”
Does it make it easier to talk about herself as if she’s someone else? She’s been doing it for so long, all the catharsis from writing herself into stories, just to unpack the things that plague her? Maybe she can have sympathy for anyone but her, maybe its the only way she can recognize how her behavior impacts others. Maybe the book is why she left in the first place.
“You make it impossible to love you, Emma.” She’s never seen his jaw trembling like this before. “And against all odds, through resilience and patience, I’ve found a way to do the bloody impossible. You can cover it up in characters you’ve based off of us, but this isn’t fiction. I was real. What we had...what we had was real. It wasn’t easy, but when you finally let me in, it was simple. We were happy.”
“You were happy?” She brushes tears from her cheeks as she shakes her head in disagreement. “Was it simple? To come home and find I hadn’t moved from my spot on the couch? Was that the ideal relationship you dreamt of, to see all of your energy, love, and time wasted on someone who couldn’t get themselves off the couch?”
“So you got yourself off the couch now.” Killian stands, eyes frantically scanning Emma from head to toe. “Well done, it only took the motivation of ending a relationship to do it.”
“I did it for you.” and she believes that, with everything in her, she left for his own good.
“Did you now?” He seems so out of breath for standing still. “Or could you have possibly woken up one day and realized the weight of a relationship was what was pinning you to the couch. Was it that Atlas cared for Aly too much, or was it the expectation that Aly would have cared for him in return? Was breaking my heart easier than just trusting me with yours?”
And all at once in the middle of the ocean, she can see Aly waking up all alone in the captain’s quarters, searching the whole damn ship for a man who did what the men she loves always do.
“Maybe there were days you thought I was miserable” he kneels before her as the ocean finds its way to this office. His eyes are ocean blue, always changing hues depending on if the sun is shining, or a storm is brewing or they’re in the deep. “But you weren’t afraid I’d die that way, always miserable, no...some part of you thought I’d leave before I let that happen. That’s the orphan I loved. You were never a mess. You were a survivalist.”
So maybe that’s their story. Aly watched Atlas change his life for her, and realized he’s going to live to regret it. Did the last seven months hurt less because it was her choice? If he would have pulled the trigger, would the bullet do that much more damage?
“I would have died miserable.”
-/-
The history she’s writing is hers and hers alone. When she was younger, when her heart was stolen and broken, when she always ended up alone. She was writing an escape plan.
This was the first time she was the one who left, and to quell the guilt of being her own worst nightmare, she forced herself to believe she was doing it for him. How many people have left her for her own good? How many times did she think that they were doing her a favor?
She’s been sitting motionless for who knows how long when Belle comes back. Killian is long gone but his words linger like those dizzy stars after a concussion. Her head is throbbing trying to make sense of it. This wasn’t just seven months spent believing the lie. Now she’s searching for the truth.
She gets anxious in monotony, like a stench in stagnant water, she is repulsed by the concept. She’s never wanted to do the same thing every day. She doesn’t want a picket fence, she wants…She does like a cute cottagey feel with a nice picket fence, she could…she could deal with a picket fence.
She definitely does not want a husband though, or to be barefoot and pregnant, or…
There were times, she’d look at him fresh out of the shower, or in his sleep and he’d look so much younger, she’d wonder what their kids would look like. There have been times she’s searched her fingers as they moved across her keyboard and realized her ring finger would look nice with a natural stone set in some brass band. It was never anything he did that scared her. It was that she thought about more. The concept of more scared her, and the fact that she was greedy and foolish enough to want it.
Four years is a long time to not talk about marriage, but after they moved past her initial anxiety attacks over having a boyfriend, he never really pushed for much again. Moving in together was her idea. He kept enough stuff at her place and with Elsa moving abroad, it made sense to do it. That’s as far as she was going to take it. Another few years piled up and she was busy writing and he was busy being supportive of that, she recognized she was his sun. When he made sure she ate during the weeks she barely left the house, when he kept her house plants alive, when he did her laundry, reminded her to shower, and told her he’s proud of her too often to quantify, she knew she was his ship. An inanimate object, something someone can love so much and not receive the love back in return, and sure, he’s as silly as a pirate to believe a ship that holds itself together while he’s sailing on her loves him, and that’s just her role.
Hold yourself together Emma, that’s always been your role.
She started to get bitter and insecure. What is she contributing to this relationship? How is she making him any better? Has he even written many songs since they moved in together, has she gone to see him perform, has he performed? Some days she was so enthralled in her writing, she didn’t realize he wasn’t home all day. It was his day off and he was gone for longer than a workday. He could have been having an affair for all she knew. For all he did, he deserved to be having an affair, falling in love with someone who would be there for him, encouraging his dreams, and dedicating herself to him.
After that day, she started her drafts. Killian, you’re so much more than I deserved…Or Killian, your life paused the day you met me. And finally, after months, she left him with I need this to be over.
She’s a writer, a published author, an English major and an avid reader yet, through years and years of literature and just terrible romcoms, she never learned how to break up with someone. She never knew the words to say to him, so she said nothing. He called for three-five days, she’s not sure as she was in a sobbing-induced coma.  He sent texts, he sent freaking carrier pigeons, and she locked herself in a hotel room with her laptop and her broken heart. Finally, an email came in.
Emma, I’ve moved out. Everything I’ve left is yours…among the worn t-shirts you liked to sleep in and the novels we’ve collected over the years is my heart. Goodbye Love.
“Emma,” Belle brings her back to the present after a very long, painful trip into her past. “Are you okay?”
Why is that word even used to describe how ‘good’ something or someone is?
“No.” She glances over at Belle, she thinks to ask if she talked to him in the hall after he left, if he said anything, if he seemed ‘Okay’ himself but she settles back to a business mindset. Work is the only constant. “Aly left because she didn’t want to get left again.”
“And that’s how it ends?” Belle hands her the folder back. “You can do better.”
-/-
“The concept of fiction isn’t a lack of reality, it just hasn’t happened exactly that way yet.”
She hears his voice cascading down the ramp she’s sitting at the bottom of. It's been a week since Belle’s meeting and she made her way back to the library. Back to their roots. There’s so much history in this building, but the history she’s looking for lives within her. There’s a group of teenagers huddled together like they’re on a tour. Her fingers shake as she looks back down at her laptop.
“Don’t be afraid to use your own daily vernacular. It’s just as likely as any well-researched, powered by thesaurus dialogue, but it will come to you much more easily. That’s your voice.”
His voice sounds increasingly close. She wants to look but if they lock eyes now, while he’s busy, she’s back to being the center of attention. Why did she come here? Does she want to get back to being the center of his attention?
“Swan?” her stomach flips violently. She really didn’t think this through. Her neck trembles as she cranes to look up at him. “Hi.” He clears his throat, the group of teenagers studying them closely from behind him.
“Hi” she breathes. “Uhm…”
“Do you want to meet my junior author group?” He cuts in quickly.
“Hi.” She repeats, only this time her eyes travel across the young faces. “I’m Emma.”
“Emma Swan?” A young girl in the back pipes up. “You write Cap Zeph.” ‘Cap Zeph’ is a very popular Tumblr tag, Emma’s been told. She is now a mild-day D list celebrity with the news of the screenplay adaptation. She never published under her real name until this one, Killian’s idea.
“That I do.” Emma feigns a smile.
“Emma Swan” Killian begins, chest swelling “came up with the idea in a small town library.”
“Really?” another girl with wavy blonde hair tumbling around her shoulders asks.
“Yes, and Killian Jones worked there. He’s…evidently the inspiration. Hair as dark as night, eyes as blue as the sea he sails upon.”  Every girl and one boy in the group glance at Killian, amorously. Still handsome as ever. He looks down, scratching behind his ear and chuckling dryly.  She wonders if his throat burns the same way her eyes do or if this feels so natural he’s happy to fall back into it.
“Why don’t you all find some books to research personal voice from in the YA section, hmm?” He dismisses the group quickly. They share assuming glances and move to leave in pairs, surely gossiping on the way.
Being alone again is terrifying. She doesn’t know what she’s doing here. Why does she always go looking for him? What does she want? How can they come out of this okay? What is okay?
“What brings you?” Killian starts. He isn’t looking anywhere but her and the look in his eyes leaves frost on her flesh. His expression is so blank. She has no idea if he even wants her here after their last conversation.
“I was just looking for inspiration.” He nods.
“There are study rooms.” He adds, motioning in the direction she may find them. “My office is actually at a different location, or I’d…suggest…”
“Do you hate me?” it comes out without warning.
“No.” He winces. She’s not sure if it’s because he’s lying or because he wishes he were lying.
“Why not?” She asks. He flinches.
“Christ, Swan. Stop it.” He grabs a seat across from her at the small bistro-style table she’s been working on. She closes her laptop to remove barriers between them. “I hated myself for a while. I thought maybe I should have never lost sight of who you were. You’ve always been guarded. I thought I had broken down some of your walls. I should have never assumed I tore them all down.”
This voice within her tells her that it's no man’s job to do the work for her. Her walls are her own to remove.
“What about your walls?” Emma counters. She didn’t come for an argument, but Killian had trauma, he was damaged in theory, but always presented himself as such a well-adjusted, forgiving, kind, loving man. “Maybe you had to go brick by brick, but you knew they were there. I just watched you for years never act like anything troubled you.”
He laughs, loudly.
She’s startled more that she laughs in return than questions it.
“Emma, my love...of course I was troubled. I still am. I drink far too much and try to solve all of my problems myself without anyone’s help.” He’s still smiling as he confesses.”Hell, I didn’t tell anyone we broke up for months and it wasn’t because I thought you were coming back. I just knew I wasn’t going to let anyone worry about me.”
“You’re not troubled” she shakes her head but thinks back to every time he came home frustrated and sealed himself up before she could get a good glimpse of it. “Are you?”
“I spent an entire day at the marina grieving my dead brother, over a decade after losing him. Every time I went to leave and come home to you, I’d get upset again. I used to stay away until I could pull myself together.” His smile slips into something dark and Emma realizes all the ways they failed at communicating. “I loved you just enough to only show you my best parts. I never trusted our love enough to show you everything. And it’s not because you were sad every now and then.”
And she sees the orphan in him the moment she realizes being left behind were his worst fears, too.
“You thought I’d leave…”
“I think the term is ‘best-laid plans.’” His smile is back “Convince an author to fall in love with you, live forever. Only, with my luck, I get to read my heart get broken in the exact same way whenever I’d like. I was looking forward to your book, knowing I’d get to see us in love again.” She considers the part about him looking forward to her book.
“It’s as much my book as yours.” She means that. When she first wrote the Cap Zeph short stories, she had no plan of publishing. Killian pushed for her to immortalize this, to believe in herself and sell it. When the first went well, he convinced her to meet with Regina. “I mean, you are the entire series, after all.” He shakes his head and sighs.
She doesn’t have a response and the seconds tick by. It only takes a few before they reach an awkward silence where one person makes an excuse to leave. And then when do they see each other again?
“I should get back to my writers.” He moves to stand and she wants to jump up, but she doesn’t know what words follow that. She writes fiction. It's why this book has been so damn difficult. Writing their personalities into a fantasy of pirates and fairies, that's one thing. Writing history is another. She can build on what has already happened. This in-the-moment dichotomy, will they? Won’t they? Can they make it work? It’s disturbing.
He’s the quick thinker. Always a come-back, a pun, a literary quote…
“The only thing worse than a boy who hates you…” She opens her laptop nonchalantly, as if it won’t wound her for him to leave. “...a boy who loves you.”
Among the many novels they shared, “The Book Thief” was one of Killian’s most treasured.
He stares at her with wonder glazing his face. “If only she could be so oblivious again, to feel such love without knowing it, mistaking it for laughter.”
Maybe she’d burn every book in this library, for a chance to experience falling in love with Killian all over again, as if it weren’t a moment in history.
The screenplay would read ‘They share a look of longing’ and she’s not sure that’s how she’d describe it. ‘Longing’ seems more cliche and not nearly as descriptive as her quickening pulse would use.
This feels like a pivotal moment where she realizes that they don’t necessarily have to not be in love anymore. They could take a slow pace, like windchimes waiting for a breeze to bring them together. That’s all a Zephyr is.
“My number hasn’t changed.”
-/-
His number has. She gets a text around 1am. Are you up? It's odd, because Killian isn’t a booty-call kind of guy, but who knows what a breakup can do to a man.
I rarely sleep before 2. Her phone rings moments later.
“Hello?” her tone sounds like a question, but she knows it’s him.
“Swan, it’s Killian.”
“Yes, Grandpa, I’m aware.” She can’t help but chuckle. Almost too elated that he’s on the other end. She can hear him laugh on the other end.
“Do you remember the first time we started speaking on the phone? You wouldn’t give me your number until maybe the 18th date.” She didn’t trust herself then. They took things so slowly.
“You know I like a clean getaway.” Is it too soon to joke about always having one foot out the door?
“What's the escape plan this time?”  
“Probably the West Coast since you chased me here”
“I did not!” His laugh is vibrating against her ribs, setting the tempo for her heart.
Could it be easy all over again? One quote and he’s calling her? One call and they go see a movie? One date and…
And thinking about the end is how she got there, isn’t it?
“Did you plan on seeing me again? Knowing you were moving here?”
“Of course. I planned on seeing you no matter where I lived...I prepared for you to come into focus and the rest of my world to blur.” He sighs and she can hear his mattress settle as he moves. “I didn’t plan on seeing you in my library again.”
“Where else would I get inspiration. You’re my muse.”
They talk til 4am. She’s rethought every word she’s said these last seven months. She rarely moves without tension tugging at the back of her neck. Her thoughts are never clear and simple, not since she left. And here, in the darkness of her bedroom, with nothing but a familiar voice on the other end, she hasn’t second-guessed a word.
-/- She’s not sure if she should call it a date. He invites her to a scholarship meeting and sure, they’re dressed up, but because it's a business meeting. He talks to the team, Belle is in attendance, and she barely says a word.
But he asks her out for drinks afterward and suddenly she’s all he’s focused on, laughing about old times, discussing the interesting twist in literature they’ve both read recently. She asks him if he’s written any songs and he beams brightly when he tells her ‘only recently, Love.’
Sometimes love is familiar, like a book you’ve read a dozen times. There’s comfort in knowing everything and loving it anyway.
-/-
“Are you dating him?” Belle watches her from the doorway as Killian moves down the hall to his meeting. They came to the office together this time, maybe a peck on the cheek occurred before his departure, and maybe Belle witnessed it.
“I don’t know.” Emma tries not to think logistically about what’s going on. It’s been 4 weeks, she’s written 8 chapters and Aly is about to find Atlas again. “For the first time since I started, I know how book 4 will end.”
They go over the recent chapters and Belle seems subtly impressed but she’s holding back. Emma knows it's Killian-related. She just knows she can’t pry without being pried open in return.
“You don’t like it?”
“No, it's beautiful. From tragedy to triumph is the Captain Zephyr way.” Belle hands the work back to Emma with a sad smile. “What makes it different this time? True love always finds its way back to one another, but how do we know they won’t split up again?” Emma knows this isn’t about the novel. They haven’t yet gotten back together to split up.
Does she know they’ll never separate again? Of course not. Killian is dedicated, devoted like a priest to the cloth. She is very aware that his heart is not yet healed, but eager to love her all over again. A few dates and late-night phone calls don’t make forever a promise anyone could keep.
“We don’t.”
-/- He’s walking her home after another fun night at a bar near her apartment. They’ve been casually seeing each other but nothing more than a kiss on the cheek or a hug goodnight has occurred. They get to her building in record time, too preoccupied by the conversation on who in Hollywood would make a handsome Captain Zeph. “Johnny Depp doesn’t have blue eyes.” Emma laughs. “You can’t just pick the most popular actors, and he’s already a pirate in another franchise.” They’re at the doors of her building and his eyes are boring into her. “Do you want to come up?”
And maybe it's because they haven’t had a real kiss in what’s very close to being a year now, but he seems almost nervous.
“I’m afraid I miss you too much.” he scratches behind his ear and looks down the road. When he looks back at her he seems shy.
“Chris Wood,” she comments. She liked him on Supergirl. “Come upstairs.”
It's the look on his face when he studies her apartment that makes her remember they broke up. As if she had forgotten months of trying to hold herself together, he reminds her that she broke him when his face floods with that loneliness.
“Killian...”
“This is a very nice place you have.” his eyes are darting from one corner to the next, lingering on the most significant differences. “So ‘New York’ it's almost as if you’ve never lived anywhere else.”
“Your apartment isn’t ‘New York?’” it's so weird that they’ve never seen each other's place when they’ve seen each other's souls.
“It’s just a place to lay my head.” He glances back at her with something almost accusatory when he says “You’ve gone ahead and made yourself a home.” And it has never felt like that, not once, when she was hiding away, when she would run home to it.
This place, this city has always been a foster home she feels like she’ll get kicked out of if she gets too comfortable. It wasn’t like their home together. Their home felt like roots. Here she feels like an implant that won’t take to the soil.
“The designer furnishings don’t mean shit to me.” Emma moves to the bookshelf, all new and shiny but it's just a box to keep what matters most. “Only what I’ve come here with is all I care to take. She pulls out a few books, “Wuthering Heights,” “The Book Thief,” and “Emma.” She hands them to him knowing they were always his.
“I wanted you to keep them.” He starts to give them back when she waves her hand.
“What do you need to not resent this place? To know I have everything you left tucked away in all these new places?” she motions for him to follow her to the bedroom and he slowly drifts behind, setting the novels on the coffee table. Her bed is covered in pillows dressed in his t-shirts instead of pillowcases. She keeps his cologne on the bedside table as if it were some expensive aromatherapy pillow spray. The blanket Granny from the local diner in Storybrooke made them lay at the foot of the bed, an anchor crocheted into the loops.
“I only drink whiskey you like. I only sleep in your t-shirts.” she sits on her bed, reaching for his hand to pull him down with her. “I don’t know what we are, and I can’t promise you I’m not a tragedy waiting to happen. I just know that I haven’t been able to erase an inch of you.”
He kisses her then. It's not on her terms, and he has only ever waited for everything to be on her terms. So when he pulls her in, hand cupping the back of her head, mouth open and adventurous, she gasps.
His other arm wraps around her waist, pulling her closer to him, her hands pressed flat against his chest as his tongue enters her mouth with desperation. She fists his shirt in her hands, pressing even closer to him as her tongue reacts in kind. It has been the longest year without him and he’s kissing her like they’re running out of time.
All at once they’re falling as he lays her down on her back, continuing to claim her mouth as his property. Her hands start moving, tugging and fumbling with buttons and zippers and just much too much fabric for her liking. When she moves for his briefs he tugs back from her lips.
“Is this what you want?” Her response is to slip her dress over her head. Any questions to follow are puffed out in a husky tone against her ear.
Sometimes love is erotica, so she catalogs every second of it because nothing has ever happened quite like this before.
-/-
They spend the next few months together and she bangs out the rest of the book in record time. Regina and Belle throw her a submission party. She dodges questions about their future and tries to focus on the book.
“So Aly and Atlas together again,” Robin questions her as Killian returns with a drink for the both of them. She knows he’s not talking about the story. Killian has been very careful to not assume much about their status. Both of them have just stuck to ‘seeing where it goes.’
But it's not like they just met six months ago. They have history, they have four years of standing together at parties and being a couple. Do they have the luxury of casually dating? If all happiness is fleeting, do they dive face-first in it or wade in the shallow end.
“I love Killian.” She says firmly. It’s never not been true from the moment she realized it, in a foreign library miles and miles away from home. He is not easily erased, and it has become glaringly obvious it will only destroy her to try. “I always have and I always will.” Killian’s eyes have never been so doe-like. She’s never been so bold.
“I…” Robin’s face flushes, certainly not expecting her to speak so proudly.
“And I love Emma, if it isn’t ardently clear. She’s everything to me and I’m happy just to exist in her life.” He raises his whiskey to her and she follows suit like a gentlemen’s agreement has just been formed: To love one another without concern of what it means. As she takes a sip she realizes what everything means. He hasn’t pushed aside his dreams in the slightest this go around. He’s been focused and driven, ambitious and busy. Somehow, he’s still considering her ‘everything.’ Maybe what she thought was sacrifice all that time ago was really just love.
So they stay in love.
-/-
Another year goes by and the first film is set to release. Although Emma and Killian still pay rent at their separate apartments, they spend every night together. Sometimes it's downtown in Killian’s studio, and other nights it's in the heart of the city at Emma’s. Commitment isn’t measured by who gave what up. It has shifted to who stays. They both do, and every day they make the decision to stay, when it's 5 months since Killian has slept alone or 10 months since Emma had dinner without him. They stay together with one promise in mind. They love each other. And for as long as Love is Present, they will choose each other.
Love is History
“Art imitates Life right?” Belle closes the folder encasing a rough draft of her first few chapters. 
“All good things come to an end.” Emma shrugs as if the concept of him being just a ‘good’ thing ending doesn’t devastate her. He was the best thing. 
She thought she’d never write their break up. 
“What’s the history?” Belle squints her eyes, nose crinkling as she watches Emma. Belle has been Emma’s ‘Editor’ since college. Now more official. She gets a paycheck, as Emma gets advances from a publishing company that started as a small mom and pop establishment. In the last four years, this little wagon wheel of a company is now a fleet of office buildings all over the US. 
“You read book 3: “Wind’s Ally”” Emma leans back in her chair, studying Belle right back. “You know their history.”
Belle keeps her eyes on Emma, relaxing the tension in her face and suppressing a smirk. They’re at a bit of a stalemate here because Emma isn’t sure what more info is needed and Belle isn’t sharing her thoughts at the moment. 
“Emma, I knew their history. They finished book 3 in a ‘happily ever after’ kind of way. What underlying issues could have brought them to this point? Why did Alysandra leave?” Emma considers the question. Why did she decide to destroy the happiest relationship she’s ever written? Why would a character who fell madly in love just change their mind? “Maybe, ask yourself why you left.”  
-/- 
The sun is setting over the Manhattan skyline when she gets back to her apartment. She doesn’t know where she went after the meeting but her mind just got back to the present and she’s pissed. 
Emma flings her keys across the kitchen island, kicking her heels off in a huff before stomping over to her bar cart. She pours his favorite whiskey into the anchor-etched old fashion glasses he got her one Christmas. 
“History is a stupid word” she grunts to no one but a tilted glass, muffling the sound as the amber liquid meets her lips a second after. She’s taken up talking to herself these last few months. The first four were spent crying and avoiding her reflection. The loneliness finally set in one night and she made herself her own best friend. So she asks her best friend ‘why did you do it?’ as she feels the tension in her shoulder blades ease. Why? Why did Emma Swan leave Killian Jones seven months ago?
“Wouldn’t we all like to know?”
 -/-
The nightmares finally stopped and she no longer wakes with a startle when she finds her bed bare of him. Its been 216 days. She’s cried herself to sleep at least 180. She’s been broken before, boys have left in more ways than one, and she has managed to wake up one day finding herself less damaged than all the others. Today might be that day for the Killian Jones saga. 
Today is they announced the upcoming film and casting begins in a few weeks. She knows she needs to finish this novel, but she hasn’t finished much. She barely finishes lunch on most days, barely finishes a thought that isn’t dripping in Killian. It’s been seven months and he is everywhere, in everything. She thought progress was a slowly-operated escalator but she was finally on her way.
And then the congratulation calls come through. Text after text, email, voicemail and she’s sure in a week or two, she’ll get a card from Mary Margaret. She sorts through them looking for something she’ll never find and she has to rewind. 
She left him. It wasn’t mutual and it wasn’t obvious. He had no clue. All the calls and texts he was going to send her were sent months ago when he was breaking down in voicemails and begging her to just tell him she was okay. 
Congratulations, Emma, you saved him...from ever having to care about you again.
-/-
She doesn’t leave the apartment again until the 245th day. It is easy to stay inside with the modern advances in technology. People will bring literally anything to your front door. Except, maybe inspiration. That she has to go out and find. 
She finds herself in Harlem. The Harlem Public Library. She has to get back to her roots. Sure, this isn’t Storybrooke, and no, she’ll probably never meet a pair of eyes as blue coconut as...but her work needs her to find a way to write.
She thinks of his face. 
Three hours pass and all she has in a google doc is ‘why?’
-/-
Despite the first failure to launch, she finds she quite likes that library. She’s giving herself a pep talk this time, before she finds herself staring at a blank screen wondering why again. 
“I left because I had to.” She looks at her reflection in her bathroom mirror. That’s the only statement she’s made to anyone, herself included. When her friends, her agent, her editor, and her heart ask, she tells them she had to. 
She makes her way through her apartment, recounting the moments, hours, days leading up to it. There are very few things her mind makes enough sense to share. Everything else is so convoluted, so tangled up in self-loathing and years of agonizing loneliness, the average person wouldn’t get it. Some days, as she’s matured and healed, she finds even she has trouble understanding it.
There’s not a day that goes by she doesn’t spend half of it feeling nothing but regret. That’s the healthy part of her, the well-adjusted adult who grew from the little lost girl. She’s sane enough to know she threw away the best relationship she’s ever had. She’s sane enough to know she saved him from future hardships with her. 
The sound of the empire striking back stirs her from her thoughts. Regina gets the Darth Vader theme as a ringtone so Emma never forgets who really owns her career. 
“Hey,” Emma answers as she reaches her apartment door.
“Nice of you to finally answer your phone.” She can hear the glare in Regina’s voice. “You know you pay me to do this right? Not the other way around. Get your money’s worth, why don’t you.” Emma rolls her eyes as she packs her laptop in her messenger bag.
Regina Mills is a fierce woman, as charming as she is aggressive. She can pretty much get anyone to do anything she wants. Emma doesn’t practice in the ways of the force, but she’s certain Regina knows a Jedi mind trick or two, and as her agent, that comes in handy. 
What doesn’t come in handy is her tie to Killian. Regina’s husband Robin happens to be Killian’s cousin. Emma avoided Regina’s calls for months after the break-up, afraid she’ll have to answer the same question she’s been asking herself all afternoon. Once she finally started accepting calls again, it seemed Regina had moved on to bigger and better things: A movie deal. 
“Right” she sighs. “What’s my money bringing me today?” 
“This isn’t money related, so much as a word of warning.” Regina’s tone doesn’t seem as sass-filled as before, so it’s clear she’s not the one wielding the threat. She actually sounds a bit sympathetic. “Belle and I pulled straws to see who got to break this to you, and I, unfortunately, pulled short this time around.”
“There’s a point here.” Emma urges, feeling ill-fated all of a sudden. 
“Killian just moved to NYC.” Like ripping off a band-aid. Emma braces herself for pain, but is met with an absence of feeling altogether. Her knees buckle and she finds purchase against her kitchen island. “Emma?”
“When?” She whispers.
“Just a couple of weeks. He took a job with the NYC public libraries, he’s actually doing really well and has just approached Belle with an idea to get the youth excited about writing. There’s a chance you’ll run into him at the office, so I just...we both thought a heads up was necessary.” 
“Which library?” because Fate is a nosy bitch and has no business showing up and guiding her to the man she ran from.
“Emma?”
“Which library”
“I think...if I recall correctly, his home base is in  Harlem.”
“I’ll call you back.” 
-/-
She thought about leaving the country. At the very least, the state. She is overwhelmed, without a question just so damn overwhelmed. She has gotten so used to tears these days, she’s a little shocked she didn’t cry the minute she heard his name. 
Her body had other ideas, because although she definitely meant to get on a train going the opposite direction, she found herself in Harlem 25 minutes later. 
She sits in the middle of the library at an open table, clickity clacking as loudly as she can. Part of her really believes that maybe if she saw him, she’d remember why she left.
Another part is certain that masochism is her new favorite hobby.
He never appears.
-/-
“Hey” Emma answers her phone going off for the eighth time today. 
“Emma?” Belle sounds more relieved than usual. “Where have you been, I’ve been calling non-stop since 3.” Emma rolls her neck to view the time on the DVR. 
7:45 pm
“Sorry, I’ve been reading all day.” she hasn’t talked to anyone for another two weeks. She does this far too often to still have a support system. Emma’s not sure she’d pour the same amount of effort into anyone who went radio silent every other week. 
“We had a meeting at 2:30.” 
“Sorry.” She shrugs, because honestly, nothing even matters.
“I’m coming over,” Belle says decidedly. 
“No, Belle, you don’t have to do that.” Emma regrets answering on the eighth attempt. “Let’s reschedule.”
“We just did, I’ll see you in thirty minutes. Open the door.” Sure, she’s a small, sweet, meek-looking woman, but what most people don’t know about Belle is she could slay dragons with pure determination alone. In a battle of wills, she's even got Regina beat.
Emma peels herself off the sofa for the first time since noon, snuggie falling to the floor as she heads for the shower. If Bella can make the journey to her apartment, Emma can at least shower. Sure enough, 30 minutes later she’s greeting Belle at the door, a pizza in hand. 
“Are you okay?” She sets the pizza on the kitchen island and wraps Emma in a hug. Emma tries to pull her head far enough to keep her hair from wetting Belle. 
“Yeah, just...the creative process. Ya know.” Emma trails off as the hug ends. Of course, she’s not okay. ‘Okay’ people don’t stop answering their phones for weeks, they don’t stare at blank pages until their vision blurs. They don’t behave this way. This was her first shower in days. 
“He was in the office yesterday,” Belle says after a long silence, just a full 3 minutes of her studying Emma from head to toe. Do her eyes just scream ‘Killian’ every time someone looks at her. “He said he called to congratulate you on the screenplay adaptation.”
“No, he didn’t.” She’s quick to dismiss. She scoured her missed calls for days looking for his name, he never called. 
“How would you know, you never answer your phone, Emma.” She sits on a counter stool, tugging Emma to join her. “He’s going to be in every day next week, and I think…”
“No.” Emma cuts her off. 
“Let me finish.” Belle opens the pizza box, sliding it toward Emma. “I think you should take a vacation. Get out of the city for a while, maybe visit Storybrooke, since you know he’s not there to run into.” Emma grabs a slice of pizza, not sure when she last ate but too preoccupied with the idea of leaving the city for a while. She ran to NYC. Now she’s running back to Storybrooke. Is he just going to chase her back and forth? 
“Did he say anything else about me?” she hates the desperation gnawing at her.
“He asked me why…” Belle sighs “I told him we’ll all find out in book four.”
-/-
God only knows what compelled her to do the exact opposite of what Belle suggested and show up at the publisher’s office. Probably the same thing that led her to the Harlem library a few weeks ago. She bought a new outfit. She realizes she’s barely even worn jeans over the last eight months, and now she’s in a dress and heels like she has an interview to work here. She’s wearing makeup and perfume. She’s trying her best to cover up and signs of the wreck she’s been for months. 
The office seems busier than it has ever been, many new, young faces bustling about. She keeps her features calm as she scans every inch of every room she enters for him. 
“Emma?” Belle is hurried as she crosses the main floor to meet her. “What are you doing here?”
“I know.” Emma returns the hushed tone Belle is using. “I reworked some chapters, delayed the breakup, and gave more of Aly’s history.” and Belle nods, but is evidently not listening.
“He’s here.” Belle looks almost frightened. “So if you want to reconsider, I would do it now. Otherwise…”
“Swan?” no one calls her Swan. She’s paralyzed. What did she think was going to happen? How did she think she was going to react? When she paced around her apartment for three hours this morning, did she think she was going to just be okay? He would be here, he would see her and suddenly everything would be okay? “Emma…” He tries softer, less shocked, more timid. 
This is the moment. In every love story, angst finds its way in, rips the reader’s heart out and although they’ve been bleeding for chapters now, they can feel nothing at this moment. Time is still, the lights are dim, and all we see is Emma and him. 
He looks like himself, just more professional. He’s in well-fitted gray slacks, a navy dress shirt, his hair is longer though. He’s got more scruff on his neck than normal. His eyes are too blue, truly, for anyone to notice another inch of him. They stare at her, the same shade that’s been haunting her dreams, and she still struggles to define it. Everything. They’ve always been everything, no matter if it’s more cotton candy than blue coconut. 
“Killian.” She swallows. Her throat makes this awkward gurgling sound and she wants to melt into the floor. Why is she here?
It’s suddenly so quiet but so loud. She can hear her heart hammering in her eardrums. No one says anything for a long stretch of time, maybe 2 seconds, maybe 3 hours, she can’t be sure. She just knows there is so much said in the silence. 
“How are you?” She asks without thought. The look on his face is devastating. 
“Sorry?��� He mocks a laugh. “How am I?” 
She’s not completely delusional. This is a thing humans say to one another, no? Why does it feel so foreign all at once, like she’s attempting English for the first time with a local?
“Killian” she sighs, releasing the most dizzying breath.
“I’m good” he grits, suddenly covered in constrained anger. “And you?” 
And now they are strangers, all dressed up and nothing to talk about. 
“Me?” Her tongue drags along her lower lip to buy time. “Good.” She nods.
“I’m just pleased everyone is good.” Belle smiles sweetly. “Now, Killian and I have a brief meeting, and afterward, if you’re still available, we can go over your rewrite.”
An exit strategy. This is quite possibly the only thing she could have hoped for.
“Swan was a bright young writer once” Killian grins, wickedly. “Why don’t you attend the meeting. We’re talking about a youth writing program.” He’s obviously bating her. How dare she show up on a day he’s here and act like she didn’t destroy him…
“Sure” she agrees. Partly because she’s too stubborn to back down from a challenge, and mainly because she did destroy him and there’s that whole thing about masochism she recently discovered about herself.
Belle looks beside herself. Her eyes narrow and she puffs her chest for a moment before leading them to a meeting space. Two more individuals join them, laptops ready to jot down notes and ideas. Her meetings are only ever with Belle so, for Emma, this seems like red carpet treatment. 
He has amazing ideas. He loves the idea of bringing an artistic outlet to the children of Harlem. He was always so much more than a shelfer. He was always a dreamer, with these brilliant, compassionate ideas for helping everyone feel less alone, more encouraged. 
She was always a fence, holding him back from the best parts of himself.
-/-
When the meeting concludes, Belle graciously thanks Killian for coming, makes promises of action, and attempts to say goodbye. 
Killian, as good-natured and kind as he can be, has always had a persistently obnoxious side. He invites himself to the next meeting.
“This is only fair, Swan.” he smiles, though his eyes are full of darkness. 
They regroup in Belle’s office after a bathroom break. 
As much as Emma is dying on the inside, Belle looks absolutely disturbed by this. She can’t imagine the discomfort in being the third wheel of a breakup reunion. 
“So...when we uh, when we left off, you were telling me why they broke up.” Belle sighs, knowing how awful this is. Emma smiles, hoping it lets her off the hook a little. After all, Belle told her to leave town. Emma decided to torture herself.
“Right.” Emma takes a large breath in, holding it while she pulls out her folder. Only releasing once its in Belle’s hands. Killian is studying her like he has a Chemistry final to take tomorrow and she’s the only hope. “Alysandra left Atlas for his…” She’s said it to herself. She’s made hints to others, but Killian has never had a clue. “For his own good. She’s derailed him from his journey. She’s made him less of a pirate, more of a…”
“More of a what?” Killian’s breath is sharp as it floods in through his nose and out through his mouth. “What did she do to him?”
“She reduced him to a caregiver,” Belle answers from what’s written in the text. “Alysandra took over the journey of discovery. She was suddenly the main character.” Belle looks up at Emma with a look she’d only be able to classify as “delayed understanding.”
“In a story about Atlas, Aly becomes the focus. Everything he does, he does for her.” Emma can feel herself losing composure, eyes stinging with tears, throat drier than a desert. Somehow, someway, she finds her way to Killian’s eyes. “He wasn’t living for himself anymore. He had no purpose but to love her. And it was destroying everything.”
She’s not sure if it’s understanding she expects, or maybe gratitude, for saving him from the needy monster that she is. She knows neither is what she received. 
“Did you ask Atlas, perhaps… perhaps that’s what made him happiest?” Killian’s eyes are drilling into her like nails, pinning her against a wall. 
She is less. 
Speechless, motionless, hopeless…
Less sure she did the right thing. Less firm on her decision. Just so much less than she was the day before. 
There’s movement after a long pause, not by her, but Belle, gently setting the files down and moving to leave them alone. 
“Aly is an orphan” Emma explains and she can see his head start to shake, but she has to be firm. “Listen. She is not the strong-willed, rebel without a cause she pretends to be. Some days the sadness from being alone for so long stunts her. She spends hours upon hours laying awake wishing she could sleep forever. She can be a wreck, a mess, an impossible woman to love.” 
Does it make it easier to talk about herself as if she’s someone else? She’s been doing it for so long, all the catharsis from writing herself into stories, just to unpack the things that plague her? Maybe she can have sympathy for anyone but her, maybe its the only way she can recognize how her behavior impacts others. Maybe the book is why she left in the first place. 
“You make it impossible to love you, Emma.” She’s never seen his jaw trembling like this before. “And against all odds, through resilience and patience, I’ve found a way to do the bloody impossible. You can cover it up in characters you’ve based off of us, but this isn’t fiction. I was real. What we had...what we had was real. It wasn’t easy, but when you finally let me in, it was simple. We were happy.”
“You were happy?” She brushes tears from her cheeks as she shakes her head in disagreement. “Was it simple? To come home and find I hadn’t moved from my spot on the couch? Was that the ideal relationship you dreamt of, to see all of your energy, love, and time wasted on someone who couldn’t get themselves off the couch?”
“So you got yourself off the couch now.” Killian stands, eyes frantically scanning Emma from head to toe. “Well done, it only took the motivation of ending a relationship to do it.”
“I did it for you.” and she believes that, with everything in her, she left for his own good.
“Did you now?” He seems so out of breath for standing still. “Or could you have possibly woken up one day and realized the weight of a relationship was what was pinning you to the couch. Was it that Atlas cared for Aly too much, or was it the expectation that Aly would have cared for him in return? Was breaking my heart easier than just trusting me with yours?”
And all at once in the middle of the ocean, she can see Aly waking up all alone in the captain’s quarters, searching the whole damn ship for a man who did what the men she loves always do. 
“Maybe there were days you thought I was miserable” he kneels before her as the ocean finds its way to this office. His eyes are ocean blue, always changing hues depending on if the sun is shining, or a storm is brewing or they’re in the deep. “But you weren’t afraid I’d die that way, always miserable, no...some part of you thought I’d leave before I let that happen. That’s the orphan I loved. You were never a mess. You were a survivalist.”
So maybe that’s their story. Aly watched Atlas change his life for her, and realized he’s going to live to regret it. Did the last seven months hurt less because it was her choice? If he would have pulled the trigger, would the bullet do that much more damage?
“I would have died miserable.” 
-/-
The history she’s writing is hers and hers alone. When she was younger, when her heart was stolen and broken, when she always ended up alone. She was writing an escape plan.
This was the first time she was the one who left, and to quell the guilt of being her own worst nightmare, she forced herself to believe she was doing it for him. How many people have left her for her own good? How many times did she think that they were doing her a favor?
She’s been sitting motionless for who knows how long when Belle comes back. Killian is long gone but his words linger like those dizzy stars after a concussion. Her head is throbbing trying to make sense of it. This wasn’t just seven months spent believing the lie. Now she’s searching for the truth. 
She gets anxious in monotony, like a stench in stagnant water, she is repulsed by the concept. She’s never wanted to do the same thing every day. She doesn’t want a picket fence, she wants…She does like a cute cottagey feel with a nice picket fence, she could…she could deal with a picket fence.
She definitely does not want a husband though, or to be barefoot and pregnant, or…
There were times, she’d look at him fresh out of the shower, or in his sleep and he’d look so much younger, she’d wonder what their kids would look like. There have been times she’s searched her fingers as they moved across her keyboard and realized her ring finger would look nice with a natural stone set in some brass band. It was never anything he did that scared her. It was that she thought about more. The concept of more scared her, and the fact that she was greedy and foolish enough to want it.
Four years is a long time to not talk about marriage, but after they moved past her initial anxiety attacks over having a boyfriend, he never really pushed for much again. Moving in together was her idea. He kept enough stuff at her place and with Elsa moving abroad, it made sense to do it. That’s as far as she was going to take it. Another few years piled up and she was busy writing and he was busy being supportive of that, she recognized she was his sun. When he made sure she ate during the weeks she barely left the house, when he kept her house plants alive, when he did her laundry, reminded her to shower, and told her he’s proud of her too often to quantify, she knew she was his ship. An inanimate object, something someone can love so much and not receive the love back in return, and sure, he’s as silly as a pirate to believe a ship that holds itself together while he’s sailing on her loves him, and that’s just her role.
Hold yourself together Emma, that’s always been your role.
She started to get bitter and insecure. What is she contributing to this relationship? How is she making him any better? Has he even written many songs since they moved in together, has she gone to see him perform, has he performed? Some days she was so enthralled in her writing, she didn’t realize he wasn’t home all day. It was his day off and he was gone for longer than a workday. He could have been having an affair for all she knew. For all he did, he deserved to be having an affair, falling in love with someone who would be there for him, encouraging his dreams, and dedicating herself to him.
After that day, she started her drafts. Killian, you’re so much more than I deserved…Or Killian, your life paused the day you met me. And finally, after months, she left him with I need this to be over.
She’s a writer, a published author, an English major and an avid reader yet, through years and years of literature and just terrible romcoms, she never learned how to break up with someone. She never knew the words to say to him, so she said nothing. He called for three-five days, she’s not sure as she was in a sobbing-induced coma.  He sent texts, he sent freaking carrier pigeons, and she locked herself in a hotel room with her laptop and her broken heart.
Finally, an email came in.
Emma,
I’ve moved out. Everything I’ve left is yours…among the worn t-shirts you liked to sleep in and the novels we’ve collected over the years is my heart.
Goodbye Love.
“Emma,” Belle brings her back to the present after a very long, painful trip into her past. “Are you okay?”
Why is that word even used to describe how ‘good’ something or someone is? 
“No.” She glances over at Belle, she thinks to ask if she talked to him in the hall after he left, if he said anything, if he seemed ‘Okay’ himself but she settles back to a business mindset. Work is the only constant. “Aly left because she didn’t want to get left again.” 
“And that’s how it ends?” Belle hands her the folder back. “You can do better.”
-/-
“The concept of fiction isn’t a lack of reality, it just hasn’t happened exactly that way yet.” 
She hears his voice cascading down the ramp she’s sitting at the bottom of. It's been a week since Belle’s meeting and she made her way back to the library. Back to their roots. There’s so much history in this building, but the history she’s looking for lives within her. There’s a group of teenagers huddled together like they’re on a tour. Her fingers shake as she looks back down at her laptop. 
“Don’t be afraid to use your own daily vernacular. It’s just as likely as any well-researched, powered by thesaurus dialogue, but it will come to you much more easily. That’s your voice.”
His voice sounds increasingly close. She wants to look but if they lock eyes now, while he’s busy, she’s back to being the center of attention. Why did she come here? Does she want to get back to being the center of his attention? 
“Swan?” her stomach flips violently. She really didn’t think this through. Her neck trembles as she cranes to look up at him. “Hi.” He clears his throat, the group of teenagers studying them closely from behind him.
“Hi” she breathes. “Uhm…”
“Do you want to meet my junior author group?” He cuts in quickly.
“Hi.” She repeats, only this time her eyes travel across the young faces. “I’m Emma.”
 “Emma Swan?” A young girl in the back pipes up. “You write Cap Zeph.” ‘Cap Zeph’ is a very popular Tumblr tag, Emma’s been told. She is now a mild-day D list celebrity with the news of the screenplay adaptation. She never published under her real name until this one, Killian’s idea.
“That I do.” Emma feigns a smile.
“Emma Swan” Killian begins, chest swelling “came up with the idea in a small town library.” 
“Really?” another girl with wavy blonde hair tumbling around her shoulders asks.
“Yes, and Killian Jones worked there. He’s…evidently the inspiration. Hair as dark as night, eyes as blue as the sea he sails upon.”  Every girl and one boy in the group glance at Killian, amorously. Still handsome as ever. He looks down, scratching behind his ear and chuckling dryly.  She wonders if his throat burns the same way her eyes do or if this feels so natural he’s happy to fall back into it.
“Why don’t you all find some books to research personal voice from in the YA section, hmm?” He dismisses the group quickly. They share assuming glances and move to leave in pairs, surely gossiping on the way. 
Being alone again is terrifying. She doesn’t know what she’s doing here. Why does she always go looking for him? What does she want? How can they come out of this okay? What is okay? 
“What brings you?” Killian starts. He isn’t looking anywhere but her and the look in his eyes leaves frost on her flesh. His expression is so blank. She has no idea if he even wants her here after their last conversation.
“I was just looking for inspiration.” He nods.
“There are study rooms.” He adds, motioning in the direction she may find them. “My office is actually at a different location, or I’d…suggest…”
“Do you hate me?” it comes out without warning.
“No.” He winces. She’s not sure if it’s because he’s lying or because he wishes he were lying.
“Why not?” She asks. He flinches.
“Christ, Swan. Stop it.” He grabs a seat across from her at the small bistro-style table she’s been working on. She closes her laptop to remove barriers between them. “I hated myself for a while. I thought maybe I should have never lost sight of who you were. You’ve always been guarded. I thought I had broken down some of your walls. I should have never assumed I tore them all down.”
This voice within her tells her that it's no man’s job to do the work for her. Her walls are her own to remove. 
“What about your walls?” Emma counters. She didn’t come for an argument, but Killian had trauma, he was damaged in theory, but always presented himself as such a well-adjusted, forgiving, kind, loving man. “Maybe you had to go brick by brick, but you knew they were there. I just watched you for years never act like anything troubled you.”
He laughs, loudly. 
She’s startled more that she laughs in return than questions it. 
“Emma, my love...of course I was troubled. I still am. I drink far too much and try to solve all of my problems myself without anyone’s help.” He’s still smiling as he confesses.”Hell, I didn’t tell anyone we broke up for months and it wasn’t because I thought you were coming back. I just knew I wasn’t going to let anyone worry about me.”
“You’re not troubled” she shakes her head but thinks back to every time he came home frustrated and sealed himself up before she could get a good glimpse of it. “Are you?”
“I spent an entire day at the marina grieving my dead brother, over a decade after losing him. Every time I went to leave and come home to you, I’d get upset again. I used to stay away until I could pull myself together.” His smile slips into something dark and Emma realizes all the ways they failed at communicating. “I loved you just enough to only show you my best parts. I never trusted our love enough to show you everything. And it’s not because you were sad every now and then.”
And she sees the orphan in him the moment she realizes being left behind were his worst fears, too.
“You thought I’d leave…”
“I think the term is ‘best-laid plans.’” His smile is back “Convince an author to fall in love with you, live forever. Only, with my luck, I get to read my heart get broken in the exact same way whenever I’d like. I was looking forward to your book, knowing I’d get to see us in love again.”
She considers the part about him looking forward to her book.
“It’s as much my book as yours.” She means that. When she first wrote the Cap Zeph short stories, she had no plan of publishing. Killian pushed for her to immortalize this, to believe in herself and sell it. When the first went well, he convinced her to meet with Regina. “I mean, you are the entire series, after all.” He shakes his head and sighs. 
She doesn’t have a response and the seconds tick by. It only takes a few before they reach an awkward silence where one person makes an excuse to leave. And then when do they see each other again?
“I should get back to my writers.” He moves to stand and she wants to jump up, but she doesn’t know what words follow that. She writes fiction. It's why this book has been so damn difficult. Writing their personalities into a fantasy of pirates and fairies, that's one thing. Writing history is another. She can build on what has already happened. This in-the-moment dichotomy, will they? Won’t they? Can they make it work? It’s disturbing. 
He’s the quick thinker. Always a come-back, a pun, a literary quote…
“The only thing worse than a boy who hates you…” She opens her laptop nonchalantly, as if it won’t wound her for him to leave. “...a boy who loves you.”
Among the many novels they shared, “The Book Thief” was one of Killian’s most treasured. 
He stares at her with wonder glazing his face. “If only she could be so oblivious again, to feel such love without knowing it, mistaking it for laughter.”
Maybe she’d burn every book in this library, for a chance to experience falling in love with Killian all over again, as if it weren’t a moment in history. 
The screenplay would read ‘They share a look of longing’ and she’s not sure that’s how she’d describe it. ‘Longing’ seems more cliche and not nearly as descriptive as her quickening pulse would use.
This feels like a pivotal moment where she realizes that they don’t necessarily have to not be in love anymore. They could take a slow pace, like windchimes waiting for a breeze to bring them together. That’s all a Zephyr is.
“My number hasn’t changed.” 
-/-
His number has. She gets a text around 1am. 
Are you up?
It's odd, because Killian isn’t a booty-call kind of guy, but who knows what a breakup can do to a man. 
I rarely sleep before 2. Her phone rings moments later.
“Hello?” her tone sounds like a question, but she knows it’s him.
“Swan, it’s Killian.” 
“Yes, Grandpa, I’m aware.” She can’t help but chuckle. Almost too elated that he’s on the other end. She can hear him laugh on the other end.
“Do you remember the first time we started speaking on the phone? You wouldn’t give me your number until maybe the 18th date.” She didn’t trust herself then. They took things so slowly.
“You know I like a clean getaway.” Is it too soon to joke about always having one foot out the door? 
“What's the escape plan this time?”  
“Probably the West Coast since you chased me here”
“I did not!” His laugh is vibrating against her ribs, setting the tempo for her heart. 
Could it be easy all over again? One quote and he’s calling her? One call and they go see a movie? One date and…
And thinking about the end is how she got there, isn’t it? 
“Did you plan on seeing me again? Knowing you were moving here?”
“Of course. I planned on seeing you no matter where I lived...I prepared for you to come into focus and the rest of my world to blur.” He sighs and she can hear his mattress settle as he moves. “I didn’t plan on seeing you in my library again.”
“Where else would I get inspiration. You’re my muse.” 
They talk til 4am. She’s rethought every word she’s said these last seven months. She rarely moves without tension tugging at the back of her neck. Her thoughts are never clear and simple, not since she left. And here, in the darkness of her bedroom, with nothing but a familiar voice on the other end, she hasn’t second-guessed a word. 
-/-
She’s not sure if she should call it a date. He invites her to a scholarship meeting and sure, they’re dressed up, but because it's a business meeting. He talks to the team, Belle is in attendance, and she barely says a word. 
But he asks her out for drinks afterward and suddenly she’s all he’s focused on, laughing about old times, discussing the interesting twist in literature they’ve both read recently. She asks him if he’s written any songs and he beams brightly when he tells her ‘only recently, Love.’
Sometimes love is familiar, like a book you’ve read a dozen times. There’s comfort in knowing everything and loving it anyway.
-/-
“Are you dating him?” Belle watches her from the doorway as Killian moves down the hall to his meeting. They came to the office together this time, maybe a peck on the cheek occurred before his departure, and maybe Belle witnessed it. 
“I don’t know.” Emma tries not to think logistically about what’s going on. It’s been 4 weeks, she’s written 8 chapters and Aly is about to find Atlas again. “For the first time since I started, I know how book 4 will end.”
They go over the recent chapters and Belle seems subtly impressed but she’s holding back. Emma knows it's Killian-related. She just knows she can’t pry without being pried open in return. 
“You don’t like it?”
“No, it's beautiful. From tragedy to triumph is the Captain Zephyr way.” Belle hands the work back to Emma with a sad smile. “What makes it different this time? True love always finds its way back to one another, but how do we know they won’t split up again?” Emma knows this isn’t about the novel. They haven’t yet gotten back together to split up.
Does she know they’ll never separate again? Of course not. Killian is dedicated, devoted like a priest to the cloth. She is very aware that his heart is not yet healed, but eager to love her all over again. A few dates and late-night phone calls don’t make forever a promise anyone could keep.
“We don’t.” 
-/-
He’s walking her home after another fun night at a bar near her apartment. They’ve been casually seeing each other but nothing more than a kiss on the cheek or a hug goodnight has occurred. They get to her building in record time, too preoccupied by the conversation on who in Hollywood would make a handsome Captain Zeph. 
“Johnny Depp doesn’t have blue eyes.” Emma laughs. “You can’t just pick the most popular actors, and he’s already a pirate in another franchise.” They’re at the doors of her building and his eyes are boring into her. “Do you want to come up?”
And maybe it's because they haven’t had a real kiss in what’s very close to being a year now, but he seems almost nervous. 
“I’m afraid I miss you too much.” he scratches behind his ear and looks down the road. When he looks back at her he seems shy.
“Chris Wood,” she comments. She liked him on Supergirl. “Come upstairs.” 
It's the look on his face when he studies her apartment that makes her remember they broke up. As if she had forgotten months of trying to hold herself together, he reminds her that she broke him when his face floods with that loneliness. 
“Killian...” 
“This is a very nice place you have.” his eyes are darting from one corner to the next, lingering on the most significant differences. “So ‘New York’ it's almost as if you’ve never lived anywhere else.” 
“Your apartment isn’t ‘New York?’” it's so weird that they’ve never seen each other's place when they’ve seen each other's souls. 
“It’s just a place to lay my head.” He glances back at her with something almost accusatory when he says “You’ve gone ahead and made yourself a home.” And it has never felt like that, not once, when she was hiding away, when she would run home to it. 
This place, this city has always been a foster home she feels like she’ll get kicked out of if she gets too comfortable. It wasn’t like their home together. Their home felt like roots. Here she feels like an implant that won’t take to the soil. 
“The designer furnishings don’t mean shit to me.” Emma moves to the bookshelf, all new and shiny but it's just a box to keep what matters most. “Only what I’ve come here with is all I care to take. She pulls out a few books, “Wuthering Heights,” “The Book Thief,” and “Emma.” She hands them to him knowing they were always his. 
“I wanted you to keep them.” He starts to give them back when she waves her hand. 
“What do you need to not resent this place? To know I have everything you left tucked away in all these new places?” she motions for him to follow her to the bedroom and he slowly drifts behind, setting the novels on the coffee table. 
Her bed is covered in pillows dressed in his t-shirts instead of pillowcases. She keeps his cologne on the bedside table as if it were some expensive aromatherapy pillow spray. The blanket Granny from the local diner in Storybrooke made them lay at the foot of the bed, an anchor crocheted into the loops.
“I only drink whiskey you like. I only sleep in your t-shirts.” she sits on her bed, reaching for his hand to pull him down with her. “I don’t know what we are, and I can’t promise you I’m not a tragedy waiting to happen. I just know that I haven’t been able to erase an inch of you.”
He kisses her then. It's not on her terms, and he has only ever waited for everything to be on her terms. So when he pulls her in, hand cupping the back of her head, mouth open and adventurous, she gasps. 
His other arm wraps around her waist, pulling her closer to him, her hands pressed flat against his chest as his tongue enters her mouth with desperation. She fists his shirt in her hands, pressing even closer to him as her tongue reacts in kind. It has been the longest year without him and he’s kissing her like they’re running out of time.
All at once they’re falling as he lays her down on her back, continuing to claim her mouth as his property. Her hands start moving, tugging and fumbling with buttons and zippers and just much too much fabric for her liking. When she moves for his briefs he tugs back from her lips. 
“Is this what you want?” Her response is to slip her dress over her head. Any questions to follow are puffed out in a husky tone against her ear. 
Sometimes love is erotica, so she catalogs every second of it because nothing has ever happened quite like this before. 
-/-
They spend the next few months together and she bangs out the rest of the book in record time. Regina and Belle throw her a submission party. She dodges questions about their future and tries to focus on the book. 
“So Aly and Atlas together again,” Robin questions her as Killian returns with a drink for the both of them. She knows he’s not talking about the story. Killian has been very careful to not assume much about their status. Both of them have just stuck to ‘seeing where it goes.’ 
But it's not like they just met six months ago. They have history, they have four years of standing together at parties and being a couple. Do they have the luxury of casually dating? If all happiness is fleeting, do they dive face-first in it or wade in the shallow end. 
“I love Killian.” She says firmly. It’s never not been true from the moment she realized it, in a foreign library miles and miles away from home. He is not easily erased, and it has become glaringly obvious it will only destroy her to try. “I always have and I always will.” Killian’s eyes have never been so doe-like. She’s never been so bold. 
“I…” Robin’s face flushes, certainly not expecting her to speak so proudly.
“And I love Emma, if it isn’t ardently clear. She’s everything to me and I’m happy just to exist in her life.” He raises his whiskey to her and she follows suit like a gentlemen’s agreement has just been formed: To love one another without concern of what it means. As she takes a sip she realizes what everything means. He hasn’t pushed aside his dreams in the slightest this go around. He’s been focused and driven, ambitious and busy. Somehow, he’s still considering her ‘everything.’ Maybe what she thought was sacrifice all that time ago was really just love.
So they stay in love. 
-/-
Another year goes by and the first film is set to release. Although Emma and Killian still pay rent at their separate apartments, they spend every night together. Sometimes it's downtown in Killian’s studio, and other nights it's in the heart of the city at Emma’s. Commitment isn’t measured by who gave what up. It has shifted to who stays. They both do, and every day they make the decision to stay, when it's 5 months since Killian has slept alone or 10 months since Emma had dinner without him. They stay together with one promise in mind. They love each other. And for as long as Love is Present, they will choose each other. 
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jasontoddiefor · 4 years
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Did anybody say Vampire Obi-Wan AU? No? Anyway-
Obi-Wan had strongly disliked this mission from the moment on they had been given it. The other Jedi had kept throwing Obi-Wan glances, asking whether he was alright and ready to undergo another mission already. Obi-Wan had been pretty much grounded on Coruscant for the past six months, getting used to his new abilities. The Royal Family had refused to hand out any more information on his new state of being unless he joined them, and that was simply unacceptable. Obi-Wan was a Jedi, he’d live and die as one, even if it was becoming more and more apparent that death, if he didn’t seek out dangerous combat, would be a very distant thing.
Master Yoda was the oldest member of the Jedi Order, and nobody dared to consider how much longer he would live, Master Yaddle could be expected to live another five-hundred-years and Obi-Wan-
Going by the few notes the princess had been able to sneak Qui-Gon before their departure, five-hundred years would be nothing to him. Not even a thousand years. Obi-Wan would live and continue watching everyone around him die until the day somebody managed to strike his heart with a lightsaber.
Concentrated kyber through the heart or decapitation were apparently the only two methods that could kill him with any guarantee. And because he was already in his prime, he wouldn’t even continue aging. What the Royal Family had regarded as a gift, seemed like a curse to Obi-Wan. It all felt like he was caught in a dream, or perhaps a nightmare. It didn’t feel real, probably wouldn’t until he saw the first wrinkles on the faces of his crèchemates while he still looked like a Padawan.
The morning Obi-Wan had heard that his Master and he were finally allowed to go on a mission again he’d been ecstatic and within five minutes his mood had changed. He had forced himself to calm still and be happy about the distraction and this bit of freedom.
Naturally, he should have trusted his bad feeling instead as their negotiations turned into an escape to a planet that couldn’t be worse any worse to Obi-Wan’s new senses if it tried. Light didn’t sting in his eyes anymore as it had in the first weeks and it thankfully didn’t burn his skin, but it was still uncomfortable.
And Tatooine, their unfortunate stop, had two suns. What kind of Force-damned planet needed two suns?
He was glad he got to stay behind and watch over the Queen, even if the communication he held with his Master wasn’t particularly reassuring.
Meeting Anakin Skywalker was even worse.
The blond boy was short and thin, his cheeks a little hollow as if from malnourishment, but his eyes were the color of the sky above. Being around him was like standing in the sun, it burned in the same way. There was no doubt he was the child with the exceptional midichlorian count, but Obi-Wan didn’t need a machine to tell him the boy was the strongest Force-sensitive he had ever met. He could smell it, almost taste it on his tongue. Obi-Wan didn’t need to feed often, or so he told himself, and he kept going on a dosage as low as possible because he resented the sweet and honey-like taste of blood. It was disgusting. Nobody should need to feed on life, but just like a wraith, Obi-Wan needed to consume it to stay sane and carry on with his life. The higher the amount of midichlorians in the blood, the better. Various Jedi Masters were donating their blood for him out of their free will, their Order was large enough that Obi-Wan never had to worry about running out of blood, but he still loathed it.
And after Anakin’s arrival, time seemed to speed up even more.
Qui-Gon couldn’t even let one mission pass without disobeying the Council and the Code. He argued, he broke oaths for one child simply because he thought he was the Chosen One. He was blind to the danger the boy proved. He was too old, he’d never learn the necessary control to become a Jedi when so many of their own were already struggling with it.
But Qui-Gon just kept pushing.
He moved without thinking, sprinted ahead and reached for the unobtainable future while focusing on the present, moving past red barriers Obi-Wan couldn’t even push through with his superior strength or lightsaber.
Obi-Wan wasn’t human anymore, not really.
His reflexes were sharper, he was faster, his senses heightened, and he still wasn’t fast enough to keep up when Qui-Gon faced off against the dark demon and lost. Obi-Wan screamed as he watched his Master sink to the ground. He could feel the Force reaching for him, claiming his life. Months ago, Obi-Wan had been so ready to die and move into the Force, but he couldn’t bear watching as the same happened to his Master. As soon as it was possible again, Obi-Wan launched himself at the demon, a Sith. The Zabrak would be faster than any human even without the Force, but Obi-Wan kept up. Like his Master before him, he pushed forward until he finally managed to get his blade into the other.
“Curse you, Jeh-dai,” the Sith hissed, voice strained. “You die with me.”
Obi-Wan snarled, too caught up in his anger. The Sith’s dark red blade was pushed through Obi-Wan’s torso the same way it had pierced his Master. The only difference was that it didn’t matter to Obi-Wan because he’d be able to recover from it. Cursed with eternity, he’d heal and be reborn again and again because this wound was nothing to him.
“You’ll die first,” Obi-Wan replied.
He leaned forward on instinct, wishing to rip out the Sith’s throat. His fangs grazed the Sith’s neck, then he took ahold of the red blade the Sith was holding and finally moved his own ‘saber through the Sith’s body, separating him. He watched as the Zabrak’s eyes widened in shock and he fell backwards into the generator. Obi-Wan deactivated the lightsaber piercing him, carelessly threw it aside as he rushed to his Master’s side, adrenaline keeping him moving as his body did its best to heal him while he was dying.
“It- it’s too late,” Qui-Gon stuttered.
“No!” Obi-Wan protested. “I can- I can save you. Like the princess- I just-“
He knew he could do it. There had to be a way.
“No,” Qui-Gon said. “Promise me instead- promise you will train the boy.”
Obi-Wan was helpless. He couldn’t save his Master. A better Jedi would be able to heal him, but Obi-Wan was once more lacking behind. But this promise he could give Qui-Gon.
“Yes, Master.”
“He is the Chosen One. He will bring balance… train him.”
And then he slipped into the Force, escaping Obi-Wan forever.
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grandadmiralprawn · 3 years
Text
BARC at the Moon, Chapter 7
Note: Hi all, shorter chapter for now but I do plan on releasing chapter 8 soon too - originally they were one single draft but it was far too long haha. 
I also just wanted to quickly mention that I might not be updating as frequently soon. I definitely won’t abandon this fic as it’s the only thing keeping me sane at the moment but I started writing as an exercise to help with my mental health. I was at my lowest for quite a long time and after a sabbatical ended up quitting my job. But my friends and family have been amazing and it was my fiancé that suggested I start to write and I’m so happy to be starting a new career on Monday. I’m so so excited as it’s a move towards my dream job but it will mean I have less time to write so to anyone enjoying this fic please be patient with me. 
P.S I’ve joined AO3 now too :) 
Warnings: Swearing as ever, death, slight anxiety, crude sexual references.
Word count: 2976
Chapter 7 Point of No Return
Month 2, 20 BBY
WAC and Astrid had both only been gone for three days when Neyo came to the disgusting realisation that he missed them both. In all honesty, he knew he would; WAC was his almost constant companion and Astrid, shit. That was a mess.
The past few times Astrid had been on leave it was easier to forget she existed but so much had happened now. He’d left so much unsaid between them, they hadn’t parted on bad terms – not at all but, he still walked away before he could show her just how much she means to him. The distance from her caused a newly developed anxiety over seeing her again - a plethora of terrible scenarios playing out in his mind. He hates himself for his weakness too; his lack of rationalisation, hates her for doing this to him.
No.
He doesn’t hate her, he cares for her so much that it’s agonising but he could never hate her for it. A horrible, dark part of him hoped that she was in as much pain as him; yearning for him and getting conflicted over her own feelings. He wished he knew how to make sense of it all, everything was just so foreign.
He should be better than this; CC-8826 – fucking Marshal Commander of the Recon Corps, should not be losing his head over something as trivial as desire. Astrid was destroying every fibre of his being. But at least she was out of harm’s way he mused. His little droid on the other hand could be lying in a pile of scrap and bolts for all he knew. Neyo’s head was spinning between them both and it was crippling him.
Though, despite his inner turmoil, Neyo still maintained textbook level decorum and his ability to execute his duties with razor sharp precision never waived. If anyone noticed a difference in his demeanour, they were smart enough not to voice it. Well, except Bacara. He was always the exception.
Earlier today, he’d commed Neyo and the first thing the miniaturised, blue tinted version of his oldest friend had remarked was that Neyo seemed “off.” He’d dismissed it immediately, but unlike Wolffe, Bacara would pry.
“You’re acting far away.” Bacara had spoken matter-of-factly.
This is why I kriffing hate hologram calls.
“I am, we’re stationed on opposite sides of the Galaxy Bac.” Neyo had grumbled.
The tiny projection of Bacara simply stared back, thoroughly unamused and huffed impatiently. Neyo, still maintaining his signature blank expression had sternly upheld. “It’s nothing.”
“It’s something.”
Neyo knew he wouldn’t win this, Bacara might let it go eventually but he couldn’t fool his brother. The small bubble of people who could read Neyo was confined to Bacara, Wolffe and WAC – sometimes Chaos. Jedi didn’t count because they had an unfair advantage and Astrid wasn’t quite there yet, she was close but he could still see the apprehension in her eyes when she was trying to gage his mood.  
“I can’t tat.” Neyo murmured, barely audible and he cringed internally at how broken he sounded. Bacara was all harshness and brutality – a perfect contrast to Neyo’s emptiness and, he really did not like his brother seeing him this way. He knew he could trust Bacara with anything, everything, but this – Astrid – he just wasn’t ready. He had barely accepted his own feelings, let alone the ability to convey them. He almost felt guilty too, knowing that Wolffe knew more than Bacara.
“Is it that shit-head droid of yours?” Bacara spoke, mirthful distaste clouding his tone. It was no secret that Bacara was less than found of WAC and Neyo could tell his friend was trying to ease the sombreness of the conversation.
Neyo had huffed what could be called a laugh at that, Bacara was close to the mark but Neyo respected his friend too much to lie anymore. “Only partially.”
Bacara had raised a brow at that and rubbed at his beard. “It must be bad then, he’s always what gets your panties in a twist.” Wheezing slightly at his own poor joke, he followed up with “He’ll be alright, you know that. As for the other thing…?”
He had trailed with a questioning tone and Neyo sighed out a defeated answer. “It could be something, it could be nothing.”
Bacara must have realised that was all he was going to get out of Neyo because he simply nodded an understanding.
It was an odd exchange. The two brothers weren’t adverse to comforting each other but, always indirect with their feelings and emotions; it did not happen very often. Both were still reluctant to appear vulnerable in front of each other. At an absolute maximum their comforting techniques involved some contraband alcohol and a clap on the shoulder, not patient words of reassurance. When Bacara eventually switched to a more light-hearted topic, Neyo had to avoid breathing a sigh of relief.
“You all prepped for your strategy conference in two days?” Bacara had asked an innocent enough question though, the intent was anything but and he snickered at the clenching of Neyo’s jaw. 
Conferences were a drag, they lasted an entire day – time that could be spent on the front lines, GAR strategists were some of the most boring people he’d ever met and even worse the follow up report had to be submitted with an evaluation questionnaire. Apparently, responding “No” and “No” to the questions: Did you learn anything new today? And Was this conference beneficial? Was not constructive and wouldn’t be considered in project analysis. 
Frankly, all commanders hated them. Except for Gree. Fucking nerd-brain Gree loved a good conference.
“At least you’ll have Bitey and Kote with you.” Bacara offered with a grin, he almost looked jealous actually. The Nova Corps rarely spent time off campaign and normally Bacara relished in the constant fighting - still, Neyo could tell he missed seeing his brother’s in person.
“I might convince them to join me in suggesting the Nova’s play a more direct role in future conferences as part of my evaluation.” Neyo teased, a hint of genuine understanding, portraying his sympathy through jest as brothers often did.
“Nah, they need my glorious ass on the field at all times. Keeps the boy’s morale up.” Bacara boasted.
“We have the same ass, so thanks.”
“Mine’s firmer.”
Neyo snorted at that.
[Break]
The next two days were a blur, Gascon was due to report in at any time and Neyo had to force himself to stop checking his messages every thirty seconds for any sign of his little droid. The apprehension he felt was getting worse and while radio silence from a covert ops squad was the norm, the lack of WAC’s innate chatter in his ear left him in a state of unease. Astrid would have returned to work by now but he hadn’t had a spare moment to greet her, that’s if he could bring himself to face her again. He was already on route to The Valor when the rotation shuttle would have boarded The Perseverance.
The Valor is an impressive space station, located in the Carida system, and able to host conferences of remarkable sizes – and attendance was always high due to their mandatory nature. Neyo could already feel his migraine building when he roughly slammed himself onto a metal bench facing the holotable. Bacara may very well end up with a more impressive ass by the time this fucking conference ended, having his pressed against the insolently frigid and uncomfortable seat all day would probably flatten Neyo’s till it resembled old beer. He could just see the top of The Perseverance from the vantage point and it brought him a small source of comfort to see his escape route from this shit-show at the ready.
It was the appearance of Wolffe’s crotch to the left of his peripheral that snapped Neyo’s attention from the viewing window and back to the present. The one-o-fourth commander had cocked one leg on the bench next to him and rested his corresponding foot on the seat below.
“Mornin’.” He grunted at Neyo, clearly just as displeased as he was at being here.
“Wolffe, get your scratched, plastoid cupped dick out of my face.” Neyo snarled straight back, Wolffe realising that his groin was indeed level with his superior officers face stepped down by one step to resume the same position – though not without adding a crude pelvic thrust first.
Face now at Neyo’s eye level, Wolffe laughed out an insincere apology. “You should keep your voice down, everyone will be asking for it.”
“You’re a disgrace.” Neyo huffed, though not without humour.
“How’s your squeeze?” Wolffe asked quietly, no hint of malice but a risky move nonetheless.
“Fine. How’s your dad?” Neyo fired back, a touch of warning in his tone to drop the topic.
“Well.” Wolffe answered, oddly amusingly though it soon morphed into his signature annoyance. “I really can’t be kriffing arsed with this.”
Neyo agreed with a grunt, abandoning his rigid posture to lean forwards and rest his elbows on his knees. Cody strolled up to them then, muttering a greeting.
They all wore their helmets but Cody’s exhaustion rolled off of him in waves as he marched to sit near Neyo and Wolffe’s feet. “I swear I spend so much time around Skywalker that I legally have joint custody at this point. Rex deserves a medal.” He grumbled.
“I could say the same with Commander Tano, Plo adores her but every time Skywalker drops his kid off all hell breaks loose.” Wolffe sympathised. “It doesn’t help that Boost, Warthog and Comet encourage it either.”
“I’m surprised your dad hasn’t requested a padawan actually, not fancy a little brother or sister Wolffey?” Cody snarked, somehow finding the energy to mock his vod.
Wolffe ignored the bait, though Neyo could tell his glare was probably burning a hole through his visor at Cody. “He’s trying, they say he’s currently got too many responsibilities but to be honest – they probably know he’ll just spoil them.” Wolffe conceded.
Neyo exhaled in what might be considered amusement while Cody did laugh before groaning and dragging himself to his feet – both Wolffe and Neyo wincing at the noise his back made as he stretched. “Well, looks as though we’re starting soon.” He grunted out through the strain, then took up a position of ease at the War table, half raising a hand in goodbye as he turned his back.
“Someone needs to hide his caf.” Wolffe uttered.
Cody, still in earshot, turned to raise two of his fingers before folding his arms and facing the holotable again. Suddenly, Cody was whipping his head to the side as he noticed Skywalker gesturing for Kenobi to look out the window. Neyo and Wolffe only spared each other one glance as they hastily stood to face the view; the last cruiser to join them was approaching – fast, really fast.
Without realising, Neyo’s feet were striding purposefully to the bridge – his brothers beside him. Neyo barked at one of his men to check the incoming cruiser’s ID while Admiral Tarkin ordered several deck officers to communicate directly with the incoming ship’s Captain.
When all channels came up unresponsive, Neyo had to squash the frustration building in his chest. They were helpless like this. It’s not as though they could move the space station and they certainly couldn’t deploy a shuttle in time to dock with the approaching cruiser. He was about to shout to Wolffe for suggestions when Tarkin’s panicked voice franticly announced that they had detected a large amounts of rhydonium on the vessel.
Fuck.
“It’s a bomb!” Skywalker ground out.
They were completely fucked now, they had no way of disabling that thing. They and everyone docked below: His crew, his troops, his general, his vode would be obliterated if the cruiser exploded.
Neyo never thought he’d die like this. He’d rather he’d have gone in a blaze of blaster-fire back when Grievous attacked his ship, how a clone was supposed to go. Instead, he’d perish in a ridiculous assassination scheme like some pampered politician.
Then he thought of The Perseverance below them.
Astrid.
Not again, he couldn’t do this again, even though he’d be dead too – the thought of her precious face leaving this galaxy...He couldn’t do this again.
It seemed everyone around him had resigned themselves to their fate too, silently staring out the window at the approaching cruiser as it raced towards The Valor.
“It’s been a pleasure Neyo.” Wolffe spoke beside him, he didn’t turn to face him, perfectly prepared to stare his impending demise in its face.
Neyo mirrored Wolffe, facing his end and offered a “likewise brother” in sincere response.
Then, the cruiser exploded.
The first jet of blue energy charging out of the hull and causing the whole space station to jerk with the blast. It’s funny, Neyo mused, the things you notice in death, the things you cling to. The last time Neyo thought he was going to die the adrenalin pushed him to impossible capabilities and he survived. Now, he was in denial. The ship seemed far enough away that hope clutched at his windpipe as he thought there was a chance the shock waves, due to ripple any moment, might not reach them.
“I don’t think it was supposed to blow that early.” Wolffe muttered beside him.
Neyo barely registered his words when blinding white light burned his vision and sonic waves reverberated through his eardrums. The Valor quaked with such force from the impact of the now invisible explosion that men went flying around him – Neyo felt himself soaring backwards through mid-air, his back colliding harshly with the railing behind him. Wolffe skidded on his side, stopping a few inches in front. Neyo dragged himself to his feet, ears ringing and still dazed as he held his hand out to Wolffe. Their palms hadn’t yet touched when the second blast sent them crashing again, butting heads on the way down.
Over the shouts and grunts of the men around him, Neyo could hear the echoing of debris thundering against the space-station. It was louder than the rains of Kamino, louder than the blood coursing through his veins.
Then it was over.
The noise was dying down now, only the occasional ping of a loose piece of junk or shrapnel hitting the side of the station at a much reduced velocity. The men around him still grumbled in pain as they righted themselves, but all injuries were superficial. There was no blood, no gashes, no breaks. Neyo hauled himself to his feet again, dragging his body up and holding the rail for support. Wolffe was standing again too, helmet moving agitatedly side to side at the confused chaos around him.
“Mayday! Mayday!” Gascon’s voice screeched from an unidentified comm channel on the war table behind them.
Not fucking Gascon…Wait! WAC! Is he okay?!
For the first time, Neyo found himself hanging on to every word Gascon emitted as he shouted through the comm. “Space station Valor, this is Colonel Meebur Gascon. Can anyone hear me?”
Skywalker was responding immediately, demanding an explanation for what had just happened: D squad were on the vessel. R2 detonated the bomb early, saved them. If Gascon had escaped surely WAC had? He was the kriffing pilot, of course he had!
He had to.
And Astrid.
He could see The Perseverance clearer now – no massive amounts of damage as far as he could see but the jolt of the explosion could have knocked her off her feet. She could have a head wound, it could be fatal. And WAC. Anyone could pilot a shuttle, they didn’t have to get him out of there.
It was Wolffe’s voice that broke him from his inner turmoil. “She’ll be fine.”
Neyo didn’t respond.
[Break]
The conference hadn’t been abandoned and Neyo had to stop himself from jumping up to his feet and start pacing while he waited for Skywalker to retrieve D-Squad. When they finally strolled through the door, WAC among their group, Neyo did jump to his feet. He marched straight over, Gascon already beginning his over-exaggerated, puffed up re-telling of their mission. Neyo paid him no heed, he picked up WAC, marched back to his seat, deposited him on the bench beside him and patted his head twice with a whispered “good boy.”
He ignored Wolffe and Cody’s chuckles.
The conference lasted forever, once all the excitement had died down, Tarkin and Windu both insisted that they should plan new protocol as a result but also resume the original agenda for the day. Neyo was especially irked to hear that Gascon would be assigned to him for the foreseeable future but with his little buddy by his side, Neyo didn’t bother dwelling on it. By the time he had docked with his own cruiser it was evening and the hanger was long deserted. There had been no casualties here either. Everyone was safe.
WAC’s reciting of the past week was as hyped up and energised as expected but Neyo didn’t care. He listened patiently and when it was over he made sure tell his tiny droid what a good job he had done. Neyo also couldn’t help practically tucking WAC in for the night, letting him trot all the way to his own quarters beside him and allowing him to deactivate himself and charge his power cells under Neyo’s desk.
However, glancing at WAC now, all bundled into his “resting” position – Neyo still felt uneasy. He was jittery and wound-up. He knew Astrid was fine; if there were any deaths or injuries, no matter how few – Gallia would have briefed him immediately. But, he had to be sure. He had to see her. Now.
Masterlist
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hellotherekenobi · 4 years
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i just hurt myself thinking.. reader meets obi after order 66 on tatooine. when the jedi still existed reader loved obi with all her heart but these feelings were not reciprocated. now that they had met obi had told her that she was all that kept him sane and he realized that she was the person he should have been with (1/3?)
but even now nothing can happen between them bc reader has many responsibilities in the galaxy (maybe she's a royal member or a politician? idk) and she can't give up everything for him. and they just sit in his house and talk about what their life would be like if they were together 😭🥺 (2/3?)
and maybe he told her that he realized how much kinder and more logical she was than s**ine lmao soRRY-- i DON'T like being that hater bitch but i can't believe he would have the morals to love someone so cold and cruel. it's mafematics luv✌️ (3/3?)
Ouchie. This one stings because it's after Order 66, so this is the time that Obi-Wan can love freely but now you're out of reach for him— and what's sadder than spending time with someone, being around someone, when you can't ever be with them? And like, talking about it would sting too. The confession of being in love with him, his confession of being in love with you, but both knowing that even still it wouldn't be possible to even try to be together. Gosh, imagine talking about it in hushed whispers at the table... and he reaches his hand out to touch yours... and you rub your thumb along his palm... and then you pull away.
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solohux · 4 years
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Hi! It’s been a while since I made a big fic rec post, and with the influx of new canon content with the Kylo Ren & Hux comic and The Rise Of Skywalker on its way, what better time to whack out some recs!
Happy Reading! ❤️
Also, I apologise in advance if your fic is on here but I haven’t linked your tumblr. I searched for what I could but if your blog isn’t linked in your fic or on your AO3 account page, then I’ve just put your AO3 penname!
The usual disclaimer too. This is just my opinion and by no means an exclusive list. It’s just for fun!
Good Blogs To Find Fics
◾ @kyluxficrecs
◾ @kyluxcantina
◾ @kyluxhardkinks
◾ @softkyluxkinks
Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics
The blogs below write a considerable amount of ABO fics and I highly reccommend checking them out for all of their fics!
◾  @thethespacecoyote | AO3 - TheSpaceCoyote |
◾ @redcole | AO3 - Redleafmornings |
◾ @thez1337 | AO3 - TheZ1337 |
◾ @sinceyouaskedmeforataleof | AO3 - SinceYouAskedMeForATaleOf
◾ sickbed_00  | AO3 - sickbed_00 |
ABO Fic Rec
◾ Falling Stars by @huxative | WIP | 31k
Armitage Hux is the omega son and ever present shame of Lord Brendol, overseer of the Arkanis region. That was, until King Snoke arranged a marriage between his adopted son and Armitage.
◾ Hadopelagic by DustOnBothSides | WIP | 25k After a life of staying pharmaceutically heat-free, Hux has to allow his body to go through at least one natural cycle, lest there be consequences. He takes a shore leave and travels to a former omegan retreat, abandoned and all but forgotten after the fall of Old Republic. Ren, not knowing of Hux's predicament, decides to follow, suspecting treason. He finds something else instead.
◾ Bodies, Can't You See? by sual | 23k | When Hux sees the positive result on the pregnancy test scanner, he comes to several alarming realizations all at once. One: that his birth control has been tampered with. Two: that the baby is Kylo's. Three: that this is his true punishment for Starkiller's failure. And quietly, in a weak, tiny voice in the back of his mind, the unsettling conclusion that he wants to keep it. He'll die before he lets anyone near his child. He'll tear apart anyone that tries to get in his way. Even Kylo.
◾ The Emperor's New Consort by @redcole | 39k | The First Order is in control of the Galaxy, in a last ditch effort to save those who are left, they request negotiations. Only to find that for the Resistance to survive they only need to give up one thing small thing -  the angry Senator Ben Organa.
◾ Babe, I'm Here Again by @sinceyouaskedmeforataleof | WIP | 117k | It's 2008 and graduate student Armitage Hux has no idea why hes still hanging out with that nerd of a second year Ben Solo. Surely he had better things to do that sit around planning Dungeons & Dragons adventures with this not-at-all-attractive Alpha who he definitely doesn't think about constantly.
◾ Shades Undimmed by @longstoryshortikilledhim | 21k | Hux is a bounty hunter who teams up with renegade Jedi Kylo Ren for a hunt. They’re determined not to let their biological needs intervene with the integrity of their mission. They fail.
◾ Fields of Gold by @ mssdare | 25k | Ren and Hux crash on a planet full of strange flowers. Soon, Hux starts feeling the effects of the pollen.
◾ Unexpected by @gonna-pop | WIP | 61k | After twenty years together, Ben and Armitage have gotten comfortable. There are no surprises left in their marriage, and nothing new to learn about each other. That is, until Armitage unexpectedly goes into heat while they’re vacationing on a resort world — and a few days of renewed passion changes the course of their lives.
◾ no hope, no quarter by @thethespacecoyote | 6k | Stolen away to a temple on Moraband, Kylo Ren finds himself at the mercy of an obsessive, sinister captor. Only one person can hope to save him, and would even dare put their life on the line against such insurmountable odds—Armitage Hux, his general and lifelong mate.
◾ To Build A Home by @reluctantly-awesome | 3.7k | Ren is truly a hopeless alpha and Hux helps him reluctantly and not because he wants a home himself, not at all.
◾  In Your Debt by @pangolinpirate | 8.5k | Things work a little different in the Order then they do in the Resistance
◾ need you baby (more, more, more) by @thesunandoceanblue | 6.5k | "Ren?" "Yes?" Hux traced his finger down Ren's jawline. "You'd do anything for me, right?"
◾ Alpha You Are Knot by @darktenshi17 | 1k | Alpha Kylo Ren has finally found his perfect mate, now they can begin a family together. There's only one problem; that's not how human reproduction works at all.
◾ Amnesia by @bubbaknowlton | 10k | Hux wakes up on an unknown ship, seven months pregnant with a baby crying in a crib. The last thing he remembers is leaving Kylo Ren at Snoke's citadel. Not knowing what alpha has bred him, nor the fate of the First Order, he takes the baby, some supplies, and runs.
◾ Checkmate by @thez1337 | 3k | Alpha Kylo Ren strikes down Omega General Hux's alpha. Then he takes his place. With omega Hux's pup in tow, will Kylo keep them or make new rules for the den?
◾ Stress Relief by orphan_account | 1k |   Kylo helps his omega settle after a nightmare.        
◾ I'll Even Call You General by @asexualavenger | 1k | Without a mate, Kylo turns destructive during his heat. Snoke tasks Hux with finding him a partner.
◾ Not a Mistake by @redcole | 12k | Hux was just looking for a good time when he met the strange man named Ben, but he ended up finding a lot more.
◾  It Feels Right by @deluxekyluxtrashcan After the destruction of Starkiller Base Kylo finds out that Hux is an omega, and tries to help him by finding suppressants to replace the ones Hux lost. It turns out that there are three others omegas on board the Finalizer, and, much to a somewhat jealous Hux's displeasure, Kylo ends up getting better acquainted with one of them - Petty Officer Thanisson - just a day before Hux goes into heat.
◾ If You Can't Be with the One You Hate by @tethysian | 12.5k | At Snoke's request Hux has always helped Kylo through his heats, albeit reluctantly. Then Kylo happens to go into heat while a prisoner aboard a resistance ship. Poe is the lucky(?) alpha chosen to take care of him, and Kylo discovers he might prefer an enthusiastic partner. Hux discovers something else about himself.
◾ time whets the fang by @thethespacecoyote  | 2k | As an alpha, Supreme Leader Snoke believes he has free reign to do whatever he wishes with the omegas beneath him, including his apprentice and top general. He may wind up regretting his arrogance.
Angst & Sickfics
◾ A cup of tea for the general by Koprix & SeiG | 165k | Hux is sick. It all starts with Kylo Ren coming to bother him and ending up trying to make a cup of tea for the general. And it goes straight to hell from there.
◾ Regretful Message by Sweets_Thief | 67k | Hiding from the Resistance should be easy when they already believe they've killed you. But when you're General Armitage Hux and you can't seem to recall becoming Emperor to the entire Galaxy, it becomes a little more difficult.
◾ Ethereal Balance by NylonRabbit| 4k |    Hux becomes pregnant, and falls into a mysteriously ethereal Force induced state as a result. Kylo misses him. A lot.      
◾ monsters, cut off from all the world by  inquisitor_tohru | 8k | A successful betrayal of the supreme leader with force-suppression tech leaves Kylo Ren at Hux's mercy. He expects to be disposed of in some way or another, but instead Hux gives him an ultimatum: Ren has one year to prove he's the best possible leader or escape his bonds and 'tag' Hux back. If he fails to meet either goal he will abdicate to Hux. If he meets one or both goals Hux will submit to any punishment or command. As it turns out, Ren is more sane, logical and functions generally better, without the Force.
◾ It's Gonna Be Alright by rmartin | 3k | After Kylo Ren becomes the Supreme Leader, the tension between him and General Hux arises. Everything changes when Hux falls sick and old feelings come to the surface when Ren takes care of him. Hux's sickness brings them closer and begins something that could change not only the future of the galaxy but their own future too.
◾ No One Wants to Die Alone by @mirlolo & @kyluxtrashpit | 30k | Frustrated with Hux’s continued, untraceable assassination attempts, despite trying everything to make his new Grand Marshal happy and make amends, Kylo drags Hux and only Hux on an unnecessary mission to some awful, swampy backwater planet as revenge. When they return, though, the symptoms of an unknown, serious disease land them both in the same quarantine room in the medbay, as well as spreads to some of the crew. They quickly learn that it’s hard to go through a near death experience with someone without getting closer to them in the process.      
◾ We Have So Much To Talk About by BlackKyber | 2.5k |      General Hux’s relationship with Kylo Ren is a complicated one. Their busy lives and differing personalities often clash with each other, making it difficult for the two of them to find peace with one another.When one of them falls ill, however, life finally slows down enough for the other to be able to fully evaluate where they are in life ... and where they might be heading.    
◾ For Your Own Good by @threewinterssnow | 2k | Kylo has the flu and he's acting like it's the end of the world. Hux does not get paid enough to deal with this.   
◾ get well, general by carefulren | 1.3k | Multiple days without sleep has Hux struggling with a nasty fever, and Kylo doesn't care... Not one bit..
◾ Through Sickness and Secrets [Iatrogenic] by NatashaRS | 7.8k | Kylo Ren hates Hux. He hates him a lot. Which is why it's rather unusual that when, upon finding a sick general, he does not kill him. Cue sweet moments, bickering, and a not-so-human Hux.
◾ As long as stars are above you by @ellstra | 2.1k | Hux gets injured because he just has to put his important regal person in danger and Kylo is not amused. He's admitted he cares for Hux, why is that not enough for Hux to stop making idiotic decisions?
◾ Fear of Falling Asleep by bastilas| 10k | Upon returning to the Finalizer from a diplomatic mission, Kylo and Hux are fired upon by their own subordinates, sent careening to the surface of the forest-blanketed planet Corstris. The troopers are dead, the shuttle is barely equipped with survival gear, the weather is cold and miserable, and to make it worse: Hux is injured. It isn't an easy journey off of the planet.
◾  Didn't I Blow Your Mind This Time? by Anonymous | 15k | MCD |  Armitage Hux (34, lonely, in denial) waits impatiently for the end of Ren's mission as he goes about his routines on the Finalizer, taking no pleasure from his job.Four more days. It's always four more days, and they have lasted a very long time.
◾ With Dignity by @kyluxtrashpit | 4.4k | When Hux is captured by the Resistance, he vows to do whatever is necessary to avoid giving away the Order's secrets. Left with no other options, he stops eating and drinking, intending to end himself as a precaution. The Resistance, however, knows how much Hux knows and have no intention of losing him to anything, including himself.
◾ Flicker in the Void by @mothdust | 30k | Hux watched in silence as the light swept over his body. The power stunned him, as did the bright jet of flame as it licked its color into his eyes. This was not the calm brightness of last night in the presence of Kylo Ren. This was a different sort of light altogether, massive and deadly. It overwhelmed him. For a moment Hux felt an aching regret deep within himself, the sob of someone he used to be, bubbling up from the cold.
◾ A Reckless Act of Domination and Intimacy by the_heauxly_trinity | 110k | After the death of Snoke and the Battle of Crait, long-time rivals Supreme Leader Kylo Ren and General Armitage Hux must cooperate or everything they value will self-destruct. Hux knows he is the First Order's last line of defense against a raging, uncontrolled monster, and he knows how little he can do to influence him... until Ren's pragmatic attempt to "learn more about him" presents Hux with what he believes is his only chance, unethical though it may be, to save his cause.The story of a boy named Kylo, and a boy named Armitage, and how with their love they saved each other from every bad thing that had ever happened to either of them.Believe it or not, this gets pretty dark.
◾ Confined Spaces by @milliethecat | 31k | Kylo Ren and General Hux are captured and sold by a bounty hunter, and forced to share a cell, all while Kylo has his powers suppressed, making him see life in a different light. While Hux formulates actual plans to escape, Kylo realises that he and Hux have more in common than he thought, and a compatibility that could be both useful and devastating. Meanwhile, their captor takes a disturbing liking to Hux, and in the face of his threats, Hux comes to Kylo with a request that would indebt him to Kylo forever, if only the alternative wasn't so much worse.
◾ Meet Me Halfway by @callmelyss | 5.5k | “I don’t do that,” Hux responds in an undertone before he realizes. He flushes—hard—and scowls. “If that will be all, Supreme Leader…” He turns on his heel without waiting to be dismissed and starts to stalk back the way he came, grateful, as ever, for the wide sweep of his greatcoat, the padded shoulders making him feel less—small. He’s halfway out of the room (and what a waste of space) when what he said must catch up with Ren: “You mean you…never?”He freezes, every muscle in his body tensing. Won’t say it out loud. No, he emphasizes, clear as he can. Knowing Ren will hear, knowing he will see it regardless, terrible nosy busybody that he is. I haven’t.
◾  Scarlet Lines by @rattlesnake777 | 21k | A strange disease breaks out aboard the Finalizer and rumour has it that it befalls only virgins.
◾ To Be Truly Seen by TheKnitterati | 4k |      Kylo wears a helmet because he's extremely anxious about his appearance and thinks he's hideous. Hux finally figures this out and soothes him through a panic attack.        
◾ Before I Wake by @anorlost-the-sleepy-sun | 60k | During a mission gone wrong Kylo Ren and General Hux are captured by bounty hunters and sold to a vengeful Hutt.  Forging an uneasy alliance with his General, Kylo figures it's best he works with Hux if he wants to escape... and to keep Hux from killing him should the opportunity present itself.
◾ Hux's Secret Garden by @magicandmalice | 10k | Deep in the bowels of the Finalizer, Hux has a secret arboretum. He goes here to relax, to forget his problems for awhile, and to tend to and cultivate the fresh fruits, vegetables, and various other plants he grows there. It's his private place and no one is allowed within his sanctuary. Especially not Kylo Ren.
◾ The Escape of the Fox by @theweddingofthefoxes | 4.7k | After the First Order is defeated and Rey becomes Leia's heir, Kylo Ren and General Hux are both fugitives, and they haven't seen one another in years. Ren settles into a hermetic existence selling kyber, but when he learns Hux is still alive, he goes to find him under the pretense of staging a coup. But there's another reason he wants to see Hux again....
◾  Warp & Weft by @shinysylver | 6.7k | In the wake of Snoke's death, the Force bond connecting Kylo and Rey begins to collapse. Kylo's rapidly deteriorating health doesn't escape Hux's notice.
◾ our love is a ghost (that the others can't see) by @aptanstjarna | 14k | Ren likes flowers. Hux finds out.
◾ Staring Down With Empty Eyes by Asrael_Valtiri | 15.3k | Tonight, Hux’s lips roamed over Ren’s body, his hands following. He was a surveyor mapping out a strange, beautiful land no one else had ever seen before.No one else had. Only Hux.
◾ Do I Suffocate or Let Go by darthkylorevan | 3.2k | While Starkiller burns, Hux searches for Kylo. But when some machinery explodes Hux can't avoid injury. He doesn't move in time to avoid the burn to his face. When they are back on ship (Finalizer or Supremacy) he sees the burn blistering and peeling one side of his face. The old Imperial officers mock him behind his back. He has no time to get it looked after, let alone hide it. Eventually Kylo finds him and reassures him that there's nothing to be ashamed of.
Fantasy (Mermaid, Werewolf, Witch, Vampire AUs)
◾ A Song of Crows by @ficlet-machine | 202k | Warchief Hux has just buried his trusted Crow, and, if the Gods still favour him, a new one will find their way to his lands. Hux may be young, but he is a good leader for his people. He is ready for the commitment, the responsibility, the changes that come with a new child of the Gods at his command. The clan needs it, needs it spiritual leader if they are ever to claim ownership of all the lands from here to the Core Kingdoms. Raised a warrior, he is more than ready to paint the world red in honor of his gods. He may, however, not be entirely ready for what he will feel the first time he meets the haunted and tormented eyes of the young Crow called Kylo Ren
◾ The Season is Calling by @nerdherderette | 10k | When Armitage Hux woke up this morning, he never imagined that his eighteenth birthday would be spent like this: running through the woods with his clothes torn, slick between his legs, gun long-forgotten.
◾ Behold Tomorrow by Camellia Cook | 7.4k | Armitage is having a terrible day. He's lost his horse, lost his shield, and gotten stranded in the middle of a battle. To make matters worse, he's fighting the fearsome black knight Kylo Ren and barely managing to avoid getting killed. Then, Ren scents his biggest secret--he's an omega. He's a warrior omega, and Ren decides right then that he has to have him.Despite his better judgement, Armitage wants that too... He feels like there's something pulling them together, some connection that he doesn't fully understand. But destiny and biology be damned... He's Crown Prince Armitage Hux, heir to the throne of the Kingdom of Order, and he's not giving in without a fight.
◾ Midnight Dip by @sparrowlicious | 5.3k | A two week vacation on a tropical island sounded like a dream for most people but to Armitage it got boring after the first week. So instead of doing fun things that could lead to a sunburn he looked for potential men he could fuck. And then he meets Kylo. But Kylo turns out to be more than meets the eye...
◾ Surrender by @groffiction | WIP |  21k | AU where Hux is a Merman and finds a human Kylo drifting out in his lake. After saving his arse, Kylo repays Hux by kissing him and the whole world goes up in a kriffing shitload from there.
◾ Moonlight Bay by @thesevioletdel1ghts | 5.5k | A long, long time ago, on a beautiful seashore far far away.
◾ Wet Seal by @emperor-huxxx | 2.3k | On a lazy afternoon caught between spring and summer,  mer Hux reviews his anatomy studies.
◾ Turquoise Scales by @fandomlander | 7.7k | As the lights come on, he can see Hux on the bed. He can’t help his sharp intake of breath as he takes in the scene; Hux lies down on his back, eyes closed shut and a grimace of pain on his face. He looks pale and there are drops of sweat beading on his skin. He’s naked. Kylo is by the bed in two long strides. He swallows. “Kriff…”Hux’s eyes jolt open and he throws that defiant glance at Kylo. Reaches for the covers of the bed to shield his feet and legs. But it’s no use because Kylo already saw. He saw the turquoise scales on Hux, covering a large part of his ankles and his lower legs.
◾ Vampire Hux and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Werewolf      by @nerdherderette | 6.2k | As first impressions go, Hux admits the one he made with Kylo was pretty terrible, but he sets about to remedy the situation. He should have seen the signs—the dark circles under Kylo’s eyes, the surly demeanor, compounded by the stress of moving the day right after a full moon. (Which, like, what even? That’s Creatures 101 levels of shit not to do. Hux has no illusions about the intelligence of his new neighbor, but then again, his ass isn’t screaming for a good braining). He shakes his head. A fucking werewolf. Here, in Arkanis Hills.
◾ Hungry for The Kill by @nonsensicalsoliloquy | 47k | As was clearly his lot, Kylo’s day went from over the moon to piece of utter horseshit in a matter of progressively depressing hours. His ginger hadn’t shown up to the library – an anomaly in itself – on the very day Kylo had finally worked up the nerve to talk to him; his subsequent wild run in the woods had yielded little relief for his dismal mood, and on top of that he’d somehow gotten tricked into a trap of a trap through sheer disbelief of a hunter’s stupidity. And now. Now he was locked in a cage in some shady room, stuck in his wolf form, wounded and cramped and not at all pleased. But worse still, it appeared as though Kylo was not the only restless animal trapped there, anxious of an uncertain fate no doubt waiting for them all.
◾ Under the Moonlight by @threewinterssnow | 2.8k | Kylo has moved into a new neighborhood in hopes of better keeping his condition a secret and he has a very cute new neighbor.  But he might also have a few secrets.
◾ You Big Bad Wolf by @insanitysqueen | 12k | Hux meets an interesting person online. They chat, having the same kind of kinks and this 'REN' has a truly artful way of composing dirty messages, but never lets go of that werewolf-persona from when they first began to talk. Though Hux doesn't feel intimidated enough to turn down the invitation to this gorgeous strangers home. Especially during a weekend where the full moon will be shining.
◾ Full Moon by huxaholic | 2.7k | Mpreg | Pregnancy is dangerous for werewolves so Kylo and Hux take what precautions they can to try and make it as safe as possible for Hux. It's difficult though, and tiring for them both, and Hux wishes it was over.
◾ Fang & Bang by @sparrowlicious | 10k | Armitage Hux is an ancient vampire who tries to live his life as a good citizen. Kylo Ren is his werewolf neighbor who caught his eye shortly after he moved in two months ago.One night during a full moon Kylo Ren ends up on Hux's couch uninvited. Hux sees it as an opportunity to get to know him better...
◾ Silver by @bubbaknowlton | 5.3k | Mpreg | Ren is bringing Hux and their daughter to meet his family. Problem is, the Skywalker-Organa-Solo's are monster hunters, and Hux is a vampire. He doesn't get to warn all his family members in time before they see him, and Han 'defends' the property by shooting Hux with a few silver bullets, sending him fleeing into the woods.
◾ Sense of Him by @mademoisellebianx | 42.6k | To escape the violence of war that tore down their hometown, Armitage Hux and his father fled to the quiet and peaceful town of Chandrila where Armitage meets Ben Solo, the mayor’s mysterious and melancholic son. Soon, Armitage began to unravel that the town Chandrila holds a deep, dark secret that the mayor tries to cover up. One fateful night, he was thrust into a supernatural world of men and monsters and his life was completely changed.
◾ The Onyx Mine by @theweddingofthefoxes | 3.7k | "So a monster!kylo au where Hux has to keep Kylo under control when he's in his monster state, and keeps him on a leash or in a cage. But then one day he puts him in it when he's more in control and finds that it's arousing for both of them to treat Kylo almost like his pet."
◾ On the upper glass shelf by @courgette96 | 22.5k | There once was a lead soldier with a crack on his face, who lived under the bed where forgotten toys go. There once was a doll on the upper glass shelf, where fragile things are kept out of reach. There were many things between them: a whole room, a whole shelf, a Shadow that slithered under the bed. And something bigger still, that would allow them to overcome all of it.
◾ Captive by @embershx | 2.9k | When Hux followed Kylo Ren home he should have expected he would end up like this - In the vampire's basement bound, helpless, and unable to resist.
◾ The Witch and His Wendigo by @magicandmalice | 10.6k | Kylo Ren is a powerful Witch of the Forest. When he stumbles across a rare and fascinating Wendigo one evening, he decides then and there he will do anything it takes to make him his.  Now he just has to convince the creature, one that lives only to sate it's hunger, of his intentions and not end up it's next meal.
Fluff
◾ here comes the first day by @ingu | 8k | The moment Hux threw himself in front of the blaster shot meant for Kylo Ren was the moment he realised that he had well and truly gone out of his mind. (Or, the one where Hux tries to save the life of Kylo Ren and accidentally saves himself in the process.)
◾ a most lovely tarnish by @thethespacecoyote | 2.2k | Kylo returns from a mission with a few more grey hairs than he had before. Hux is fascinated, and maybe a little attracted to how well his lover seems to be aging.
◾ Searching for Your Visible Soul by ozsyn | <1k |<br>The Supreme Leader of the First Order returns from his latest round of negotiations on a far-off planet. General Hux eagerly awaits his return but was under the false impression that he would be returning alone.
◾ Haunted Dreams by @threewinterssnow | 3k | It's not the first time Kylo has been unable to sleep. The solution, he thinks, is with Hux. But he doesn't think Hux has any interest in helping him.
◾ just a little hush, babe by @begforyourmercy | 2.3k | Kylo can't fall sleep, and Hux can't sleep without him.
◾ Here by @babbushka | 1.4k | “I’m never letting you go.” Kylo’s beautiful face faded away as the black of complete unconsciousness overtook the both of them, knowing that when they would wake, they would get to spend each waking moment together.
◾ Sharpshooter by Sweets_Thief | 71k | When Snoke sends Hux on a secret mission Kylo learns something new about the General he assumed had no military training except for the studies he did in books. It draws them closer together and Kylo thinks they'd make an unstoppable team. But fate has other plans for them.
◾They Who Hold The Galaxy Upon a String by @mademoisellebianx | 19.8k For so long, it irked Armitage Hux that Kylo Ren had never given him attention. It may be ironic how much he wanted the attention of someone he supposedly hated, but Armitage could not help himself. After proposing a truce between him and the Supreme Leader (a truce that backfired when Kylo asked him to prove his loyalty by becoming the Supreme Leader’s consort), he finally got most, if not all, of Kylo's attention. Too much of it, in fact.
◾ Someone like you by @minzimpression | 19k | Hux is in his last year at the Academy and meets a guy named Ben. Ben certainly makes his last year interesting. It's a shame that he breaks Hux's heart and vanishes into thin air.
◾ You Made Me Love You (I Didn't Want to Do It) by @fandomfix8 | 2.7k | Kylo Ren has a temper. Armitage Hux hates how it makes him feel. And then Kylo gets hurt while on a mission.
◾ In the Darkness by @loserchildhotpants | <1k |</b> One character playing with the other’s hair
Historical & Other Such AU’s
◾ O Bury Me Not by @babbushka | 75k | Armitage Hux has only ever had one dream: ruling the oceans with an iron fist. As Admiral of the British Royal Navy, he thought he was on top of the world, but it only takes a run-in with a handsome and ferocious pirate to show him there's so much more to be conquered, if he's willing to leave his life behind.
◾ Vive l'Empereur by @heresetrash | 6.5k | Emperor Hux is gravely injured in an assassination attempt, and only survives thanks to Ren, the captain of his private knights.  When he recovers, the Emperor wants to reward Ren.
◾  The Vainglorious Journey by itspixiesthing & @nerdherderette | 31k | When Armitage Hux, the third Baron of Arkanis, finds himself penniless and near the end of his rope, he throws his name on the shortlist for Commander of the Royal Army. He never dreamt that he would be leaving his meeting with the King and Queen of Alderaan with an even bigger problem: handfasted to the impossibly gorgeous (but equally spoilt) heir-apparent, Prince Ben Solo. A The Taming of the Shrew AU.
◾ The Measure of Man by @courgette96 | 124k | After demonstrating his brilliance in the latest Military campaign, Major Armitage Hux of the Hussars ought to have been rewarded by the respect and admiration of England’s Upper Crust. Instead, he finds that blood and heritage are still the sole currency of value, and that his merit is worth very little in the face of the mediocre House his father has saddled him with.However, when he finds himself implicated in a covert plot to restore England to the past glory of its Imperialistic days, he sees the opportunity to satisfy his ambition and achieve the greatness he deserves. To reach the top of society, it is far easier to bring it down first.It would have been a straightforward plan, were it not for the intervention of one Lord Kylo Ren. All too soon, Hux finds himself swept away by an impossible man, the rise of appetites and affections he has long tried to bury within himself, and the discovery of a power that goes beyond what mere science might explain.
◾ Aberration by skydork (klismaphilia) | 2.3k | Victorian AU with medical kink, inspired by those physicians who offered clitoral massage as a cure for 'hysteria'. Lord Huxley is afflicted with melancholy after the failure of his Star-Killer experiment. The mysterious Doctor Ren provides a treatment programme based on fingertip stimulation of the prostate gland.
Modern AU (Disclaimer: I’m not much of a fan of this trope so I don’t read much of it so there isn’t much in this category, sorry!)
◾ Two Years, Two Months, and Twenty-Eight Days by @kyluxtrashcompactor& @nerdherderette & @pangolinpirate | 90k | It took less than twenty-four hours after they met to know that they were meant for each other. But it will take longer than that to get it right.
◾ what's real or isn't by @brawlite | 57.3k | Hux's new house is not haunted. It isn't.
◾ Reconditioning by @jinxedambitions | 173k | Ben Solo is one of the FBI's most promising young agents.   While he's had a few disciplinary hiccups, he's intelligent and not afraid to do what needs to be done.  His personal life is a mess, and he may not look like your typical federal agent, but he might be the only man for this job.  Ben's looking for a promotion and something like the glory his parents always talked about before he was born.The FBI is looking to take down one of the country's most elusive prostitution rings, specializing in the types of sex that Ben's boss has only read about in the novel his wife hides under the bed. Ben is going undercover as a "slave" in order to gather information on the ring's leaders, purchasing a premium package from the agency. 30 days as a slave to a professional Master, and a guaranteed sexual experience of a lifetime.  He gets chosen by Hux, or the General as he insists Ben call him, and he quickly realizes that no training could have prepared him for this experience. Every day, Ben, or Kylo as he is known at the club, finds out more and more about the organization, but the more he learns the less he wants to destroy them.      
◾ The Stars Above Us by @dreamykylux & @mi-caw-ber | 7.2k | Right after the battle in Starkiller forest, Kylo Ren is mysteriously ported from his universe to appear on Earth, in Hux's university campus park. Hux, an astronomy professor, is out jogging, when he suddenly spots someone in black robes, lying injured in the snow... Kylo think he recognises him, but Hux can't quite work out where he's seen this man before, and trying to help him turns out to be both more complex, and much more rewarding than he could have imagined...
◾ Love Bites So Deep by @obsessions-and-dreams & @pangolinpirate | 15.4k | Hux is a dedicated zoo director who loves his work but knows something is missing.Kylo is the passionate big cat's keeper who makes Hux's life more difficult at every turn.When the zoo's owner passes away and his will appoints Kylo his successor, life at the zoo becomes a whole lot more challenging. But the two have no choice but to work together, and in doing so discover they actually share a lot in common...
◾ Vivid Dreams by @amsare-saxon-picture-show | 3.2k | Armitage Hux doesn’t like his real life: he’s got a normal job and he hates his colleagues. But in his dreams, he’s known as General Hux, a cold and determined man, feared by his subordinates. Every night he gets to live another kind of life aboard his ship, the Finalizer, until one night he receives a strange message from Kylo Ren. And Kylo Ren doesn’t play by the rules of Hux’s dreams
◾ Good Old Fashioned Lover Boy by @saltandrockets | 4.3k | For Armitage Hux, Valentine’s Day is the worst day of the year. A florist, he creates beautiful flower arrangements to help romance bloom between other people—but his own love life is nonexistent. That changes when a needy customer starts calling the shop.
◾ Soul of Magic by @darktenshi17 & @epselion | 32.4k | Matt/Techie too | Armitage and Techie are twin witches living and running a business together. They're happy with how things are, until two big wrenches come crashing into their lives. Love wasn't in the long-term plan, but neither was having their father come back from the dead to try and such the magic out of their bodes and steal it for himself. Maybe having a pair of big strong men around isn't such a horrible thing.
◾ Wrong Number by @cosleia | 8.4k | Kylo Ren's cell phone number is two digits off from a phone sex line. This turns out to be a good thing.
Parents & Pregnant
◾ Lying Side by Side in Pieces by @ballvvasher | 14.5k | After failing to exterminate the Resistance, the newly appointed Supreme Leader makes it clear he doesn’t care for Hux’s well-being. Hux fears that Ren will demote him, or worse. There must be a way to ensure not only his self-preservation but his status within the Order, to bind Ren to him permanently, to make Ren need him more than he ever needed Snoke. An insane idea is born—to undergo a partial sex reassignment procedure in secret, and trick Ren into unknowingly impregnating him. He’ll play on Ren’s insecurities, use science and seduction to entrap Ren; to bolster control over him, down to his bloodline. And when he’s under his spell, Hux can finally slaughter him and take his place as Supreme Leader. At least, that’s the plan. Hux has only himself to blame when it all starts to crumble around him.
◾ a minor disaster at daybreak by @thethespacecoyote | 1.6k | One morning, Kylo finds his children trying to prepare a surprise for Hux.
◾ Progeny by @geishacomb | 64k | General Hux has not allowed the Supreme Leader back into his bed since the events of TLJ. But when he does, the consequences are far graver than either he or Ren could have ever imagined.
◾ Neogenesis by @claricechiarasorcha | 12k | In the days after Starkiller and Crait, Kylo Ren discovers that Armitage Hux has been keeping a secret. This is not going to go the way either of them might think.
◾ special delivery by @gonna-pop | 3.3k | Hux had not intended to be present for this messy process. Rather, he'd imagined returning after his shift and being handed a clean, swaddled baby. But there was nothing for it now.He rolled up his sleeves.
◾ Sunstroke by @ballvvasher | 33.8k | Supreme Leader Snoke gives Kylo Ren a mission to strengthen the Knights’ of Ren hold on the First Order. Set several years before the events of Episode VII. Story contains mpreg, medical torture, and sexual assault.
◾ Knocked Up by @agent-nemesis | 3.7k | "Are you ready?" Kylo asks Hux stupidly, realising the question is more directed at himself. Hux answers with a cry, and then his panic rises again. Kylo hunches over him, cocooning him protectively. "You can do this," he whispers. "I know you can do this." "I can't," Hux whimpers, shaking his head. "They're too big. I can't." "You're a general of the First Order," Kylo says softly in his ear. "The General. The strongest man I know. You can do this."
◾ Ethereal Balance by NylonRabbit | 4.2k | Hux becomes pregnant, and falls into a mysteriously ethereal Force induced state as a result. Kylo misses him. A lot.
◾ Children of War by @starryartemis | WIP | 76k | After a complicated diplomatic mission went awry, General Hux and Kylo Ren accidentally find themselves tasked with their most difficult mission: becoming parents.Despite their complex relationship, they both agree that raising an offspring will help bring glory to the First Order. Their original vision of a united family quickly falls apart as Hux and Ren cannot see eye to eye in what they want the future to hold.
◾ a welcome interruption by @thethespacecoyote | 1.7k | Emperor Hux is in the middle of important but increasingly trying trade negotiations, when one of his children decides to disrupt the tension.
◾ Egg Bound by @starkillersbae | 2.2k | Kylo Ren and Hux make time in their busy schedule of ruling the galaxy to play their favorite game. But when Hux gets called away on important business the eggs Kylo has been carrying remain inside for too long, leaving Hux to play midwife while Kylo labors.
◾ Helmet by @abboh | 1.4k | All Kylo wanted was his helmet back but where was it? it wasn't on his shelf nor countertop. Wait, Hux has it and what is he doing with their kid?
◾ the Evil Space Dads series by @bubbaknowlton | 300k | 82 works |
◾ Moonbroch by Irma7x | 46.5k | Supreme Leader Snoke request their subordinates to produce an heir and secure the legacy of the First Order--an heir, specifically engineered to bear the traits of the two commanders of the First Order, thus supplying Snoke with the perfect apprentice. Tensions arise as Kylo Ren and General Hux begin to doubt their loyalty to The Order as the possibility of bringing a child to their lives makes them doubt their previous motivations and longings.        
◾ A Fortunate Alpha by @paperprinc3 | 1.3k | Alpha Hux doesn’t really know what his husband Kylo sees in him. Even so he’s trying his best to be the best father he can and make his family happy. A revelation from Kylo might mess everything up though.
◾ Something More by @kyluxfichell | 5k | When Kylo Ren falls pregnant with Hux’s child, the two men begin to doubt their allegiance to the First Order. They flee together, desperate to prevent their child from becoming Snoke’s next weapon.
Smut & PWPs
◾ Who's Your Master? by @groffiction | 3.5k | Sub Kylo | Hux murmured softly, “You don’t need punishment tonight, Ren. You need rest.” “But, I want… I want this… need this,” Kylo protested weakly, reaching around to nuzzle at Hux’s boots.
◾ The Best by @kyluxtrashpit | 6.4k | Sub Kylo | Kylo goes to an ancient Sith temple in search of power, to find the secret to being the best and strongest in the galaxy. Instead, he's bestowed with a curse that seems more like a blessing than anything else: he's now the best in the galaxy at blowjobs. However, he quickly finds that it truly is more of a curse than it first seems - or is it?
◾ Driving Westward by @slutstiels | 8k | “You got a name?” The driver’s voice is deep. “Hux.” Hux winces. He had a plan, a fake name all picked out that would be unremarkable, but he’s so nervous it just slipped out before he had a chance. “What about you?” “Call me Kylo.” At least he can remember his dumb fake name.
◾ Fill The Void  by @magnetvrs | 2.1k | Where Hux was once hungry for power, for a taste of command, for the respect, for order and bloodshed, now there is only one kind of hunger burning low in his gut. Kylo Ren is his own kind of flavour - distinct and intoxicating.
◾ For Those Who Stop and Stare by @centurytwitch | 3.1k | Dopheld Mitaka thinks he knows General Hux. Using his office as his occasional breakroom allows him to do some lowkey snooping. Beneath the surface, the aspects not revealed by his desk or bookshelf, there is much to be learned.    
◾ Do Only As I Say by @the-garbage-chute | 3.1k | Power bottom Hux coaching virgin sub Ren step by step while they fuck. Hux has a belt around Ren's neck choking him and as he feels himself getting close Hux stops riding him almost all together making him beg, prolonging his orgasm.
◾ Subliminal by @kyluxtrashpit | 5.7k | At his wit's end with what to do with Ren as the new Supreme Leader, Hux finally has an idea: conditioning, by the same methods used in the Stormtrooper program, but with very different results. Ren isn't the only one who knows how to manipulate minds, after all.
◾ Too Cool to Care by @vadianna | 9.2k | Kylo Ren slights Hux in the bedroom, accusing him of being boring after Kylo is too tired to keep it up.  In retaliation, Hux invites him to an anonymous hotel room in Canto Bight and shows him just how imaginative he can be.  Kylo, not entirely sure Hux won't use the opportunity to eliminate his rival, agrees to everything Hux suggests.
◾Black Box by Asrael_Valtiri | 1.9k | Ren’s mouth fell open. He swallowed hard. He lifted the tool—no, toy—out of the box, placed a finger in the handle, and let it dangle, admiring the shine, the weight of the piece. It was very heavy for its size. It was cold but warmed up quickly against his skin.He needed it inside of him. Now.
◾ Be My Outlet by @kyluxtrashpit | 1k | Hux hates Kylo Ren, but he never turns down the opportunity to use Ren's body as an outlet for his frustrations with the man. Ren encourages it and some of their sessions are riskier than others.
◾ the littlest general by @thethespacecoyote | 5.4k | Something unexpected happens to Hux during an assassination attempt. Kylo deals with the aftermath.
◾  Ascension by @thesevioletdel1ghts | 6k |  Hux swallows. They both know the answer, it’s fairly evident with him already sitting on Ren’s lap. Of course, Ren wants him to say it out loud, wants Hux to debase himself even further and Hux hates him for it.   “I could—“ He clears his throat.   “Yes?”   “I could... ride you. Supreme Leader.”   Ren grins, toothy, infuriating. “If that is what you want.”
◾ Sleep It Off by @centurytwitch | 1.8k | Back pain has always been a problem in Hux's life. Medication never helps. Kylo knows the perfect way to help him through it.
◾ It shouldn't have A Name by @nonsensicalsoliloquy | 6k | Kylo’s jealous angry with his General and resolves to set aside an entire day to personally oversee his ‘punishment.’ The unspoken aftermath was as expected as it was disastrously not.
◾ Un autre amant by srawratskcuf (Doreen) | 5.6k | Undercover for a mission, Hux goes blond and Kylo goes wild.
◾ Pretty in Pink by Huxilicious, rmn_werefoxes | 2.5k | Sometimes Hux likes to dress up in pretty things and get fucked within an inch of his life. Kylo Ren is more than happy to oblige.        
◾ The Body Electric by @h-uxed | 4.2k |  Leaning close, his breath hot and his eyes devouring, the Knight purrs, “When I’m done with you, General,” He promises, his voice velvet soft, “You will never again question that you are mine.” Kylo takes the General’s virginity.
◾ A Chance at the Throne by cajynn | 2.6k | Hux and Kylo fuck on the throne, and Hux desperately wants the upper hand
◾ Never Enough by @samedifference61  | 3.3k | For the Kylux Hard Kink anon prompt: Hux or Kylo it doesn't matter who, edges the other so hard, they don't let the other come before he's a crying begging mess. They just like to make the other cry knowing that they're the cause of it Ren needs this (to end).
◾ That's the Way it Goes by Anonymous | 1.4k | Kylo decides that Hux's face is only worth sitting on.
◾ at the beginning of the world  by carnival_papers | 10k | Insecure about his body and his virginity, Kylo breaks down during his first time with Hux. Reminded of his own first time, Hux takes care of Kylo and helps him through it.  
Soulmates
◾ In this life and the next by Ggeri_Sminth | 4.9k | Kylo always remembers his past life; all of them leading him to one person his home. The only issue is that person never remembers their life, leaving Kylo to find him over and over again. Sometimes things don't always go as planned. 
◾ dream a little dream of me by @begforyourmercy | 4.8k | Kylo Ren loves his General - but only when he's asleep.
◾ Clearer Now by @ezlebe | 4.9k | “Well,” Hux snaps, turning on his heel when the silence becomes too much to bear.Ren stares back with oddly wide eyes, sopping hair plastered to his face. “Well?” “Where are the jokes?” Hux says, lifting his chin, feeling a tight frown settling across his lips. “My match the Jedi master, hero of the Clone Wars, Bane of Lord Vader, et cetera.” Ren opens his mouth, seemingly ready to fulfill expectation, then closes it with an exhale. He shrugs stiffly, rolling up the jumper hem in his hands and shoving it over his head in one swift movement.
◾ Matches and Flames by @katherine1753 | WIP | 47k | The names on people's wrists weren't just suggestions. They were fate. Destiny. So how could Hux be falling in love with someone who wasn't his Match?
◾ Hope is a waking dream by @minzimpression | 26.5k | After his mother’s funeral Hux sees the world through his soulmate’s eyes for the first time.
Enjoy! ✨
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miss-bvnny · 3 years
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@gosalynmallardlockdown​ tagged me to talk about 10 favs from 10 different fandoms and while I don’t...EXACTLY participate in a whole lotta fandom stuff this is a chance to rant about my babys so guess what mother trucker!!!! Gonna try and pull out a few ‘’Unexpected’’ ones that I don’t usually rant about!!!
Captain Holly (WSD 2018) - Okay so I’m Big Nasty into WSD as most of yall know. I’ve read the book, seen the movie, seen the 90s kids series, and now the 2018 version. And like...it’s HARD to pick a favorite iteration among all of them. Like of course the book is king above all and I love EACH for their own strengths but like...2018 Holly hits different. Seeing them do just THAT much more with his character and really make him POP in some very unexpected ways was refreshing and interesting. I know we all talk about how Blackavar’s death in the movie was out of nowhere and really sad AND IT WAS, but like...Holly dying in front of Hyzenthlay??? After admitting he loves her????? Nah man that hits too different.
Kylo Ren (Star Wars) - Yknow considering how hard they fucked up his character in 8 and 9, and also considering my refusal to acknowledge TROS, he’s kind of a hard one to defend, but....Yeah. Sometimes we just love villains, ladies. TBH tho I think this one comes mostly from how I’ve written a LOT for Ren in the past, especially during Quarantine this year. I kinda...got attached to him through writing for him, if that makes sense??? Like I KNOW he’s kind of weak as far as SW villains go but He’s Still My Boy. But yeah I lvoe Ren pry him from my hands and also in an ideal SW canon he would have been able to do a Battouga end of lecture Alexa play Zero by Imaigne Dragons.
Walter Beckett (Spies in Disguise)- Hey remember when a Funnee movie about a talking Will Smith Pigeon did better than SW and Cats??? Walter is....such a great character. I think he’s my favorite Tom Holland character (This is not a diss on Spiderman, don't read it that way) I love the idea that a character who’s still grieving and healing from his mother’s death was so affected by her being killed in the line of action that it inspires him to invent non violent ways to fight crime is...so sweet. He’s kinda like Varian from TBEA in a sort of ‘’adorable inventor boy’’ niche??? IDK hes my son dont be mean to him.
Rabbit (Winnie the Pooh) - Yall ever seen the New Adventures Of Winnie The Pooh??? Yall ever seen the Find Her Keep Her episode?? I dont think I need to say more. I know not a lot of people like Rabbit because he’s the cranky and slightly mean impatient grouch but like...Find Her Keep Her changed me.
Master Shifu (Kung Fu Panda) - I! Love! Emotionally! Constipated! Old! Men! I love those....hardened by trauma but still loving and kind beneath a strict exterior characters. Show me a character who is perceived as unbreakable, and then show me something can break them, and I WILL love them. Kung Fu Panda as a series is a hidden gem in Dreamworks history and it has a lot of really deep moments in it that really touch me, and seeing the flashback with Tai Lung’s backstory always gets me.
Judge Claude Frollo (HBOND)- Yeah. Yeah. Controversial one in this day and age, huh? Look, I....have a really serious attachment to him. First of all, in an age where every other Disney villain just wanted money or power, his motives were...a welcome and also really fucked up change of pace. I respect that. Secondly...ten years ago this month I met someone so important because we were both a couple of scene girls on Deviantart hyperfixating on him. If anything had changed in him, if he had been just a LITTLE different, or if he hadn’t happened at all...I might not have met them. And I think that terrifies me more than anything. So yeah, REALLY evil guy, but I love him for what he did in my life.
Yondu (GOTG) - ‘’He may have been your father, but he wasn’t your daddy’’ Like...what more do you need??? I love??? Frenemies??? And also Frenemies who are attached to the main character in a familial sense??? 
Cantus (Fraggle Rock) - I think I’ve seen exactly three episodes of Fraggle Rock in my entire life and one of them was Cantus’s episode but anyway yeah I love him a whole awful lot. He’s just so....chill and wise, he’s got this real ‘Jedi Master’ vibe and there’s always something about the characters voiced by Jim Henson himself. Plus his design is just *Kisses*
Mavis Dracula (Hotel Transylvania) - God..the FIRST HT movie is like...my favorite Halloween movie. What a cool concept. Too back 2 and 3 were fucking awful and now the trilogy is super badly aged. Characters played by Selena Gomez are usually so annoying and schlocky, but like...Mavis has this incredibly strong charm to her, a very vibrant character, honestly. 
Rooster (The Secret Life Of Pets 2) Like the sane majority of people, I agree TSLOP was barely strong enough to even warrant a sequel, but of course its a funnee minion movie that make a shit ton of money so It got one anyway. Despite my deep personal hatred for every single Illumination movie OTHER THAN HOP, HOP IS GOD TIER, I’m glad they made TSLOP 2 because Rooster was the greatest thing to happen to the movie. Out of all the three plotlines in the movie, the farm one was the most cohesive and not just a pandering mess. Harrison Ford playing his own fursona was very enjoyable, and made the movie honestly kinda worth seeing.
Uh....I don’t....know ten people so if you see this and wanna do it, consider yourself tagged lmao
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