#it's about the fact that hands that grew rough from war and hardships are impossibly gentle in the right moments

[ladyofvoss]

"May we meet again under a western sky"

[bekaroth-reads]

Luke Skywalker x reader

You were completely baffled. How on earth was he still like this? Luke Skywalker had gone though so much and matured through out the years that you had known him, and yet he still managed to be like the boy from Tatooine more often than not. You didn't blame him for being exhausted, or even wanting to have at least something go his way after all the hardships that had happened to him, but recently he had started going overboard. Luke had started to revert to his whiny days. You know, back to when Han and you used to call him "Crywalker". He was constantly talking about how he wanted certain things for dinner. He was thirsty, but only for blue milk, which wasn't common in this part of the galaxy. Then it was horrible that the vendors charged that much for it and, "I could find it for half the price almost anywhere else!" The what he was saying wasn't even as bad as the how he was saying it, however. There was a voice that only a complaintive Luke could do, and you swear that if he used it on the Empire they would have all given up and fled to the farthest star on the edge on the other edge of the galaxy just to get away form it.

Sighing as you carefully removed the food you were cooking from the heat, you decided that maybe you were overreacting too. After all there was no way after all of the life lessons and somber events that Luke had gone though that he'd still be almost pitching fits like a child that was told to eat healthy food before dessert. Anyone can have a bad few days,(or weeks as it felt like to you) and he was sure to get over it soon after he's had the time to rest. Or, perhaps the rest was what was making him this way in the first place. There was a good chance that going from practically doing everything all the time, to nothing of great significance most days did affect him somehow. He was probably just stir-crazy or something. In fact, that's one of the reasons you were cooking for him. One of Luke's favorite dishes was actually something that you had on that moon of Endor. It was one that you had actually learned to cook from one of the Ewok mothers that you helped by protecting her children during the fight there. They all acted like it was perfect when you made it, so you figured that it was pretty good for not being from your original food culture. You figured that something like that would be a good thing to help raise Luke's spirits.

"Luke? Luke! Food's ready!" You call out the door of where you two were staying. The two of you were actually traveling around to see some of the places his father and Obi-Wan had traveled to during their time in the Clone Wars. He was interested in his past, and you were a major history buff, so the idea sounded great to you. Right now you were on the planet Kamino, and it was no surprise that someone that grew up on a desert planet was extremely mesmerized by the constant rain falling from the sky and the boundless waves of the sea below. Luckily you were somewhere that was completely inside a building aside from the landing pads, because you could picture Luke standing out there in that constant drizzle for hours.

When he didn't come right away, you went out into the hall just outside of your room and up to the window he was looking out of. "Luke." You said his name softly this time as you put your hand onto his shoulder to get his attention. "I heard you. I'm coming." He huffed like a kid that was just interrupted while playing a game. You almost said something to him about it, but decided that you'd let it go. There was no need to start something out here in the hall where everyone could witness. You went back into the small, apartment-like room, and he followed a minute after, the door automatically closing behind him. He sat down and look at his plate of food. He gave an unconvinced hum before he started to eat. "So, how do you like Kamino?" You asked between bites. "Too much water. This is just like a desert, but it's a desert made out of water. I'm so tired of deserts!" He responded in kind. Alright, conversation topic number one was a bust. After a minute or two, you asked, "Would you like something to drink?" Luke gave an almost disgruntled snort before snarking, "Sure, I guess. There's no lack of water here at least." And, he was still pouting about that whole blue milk thing.

You walked into the other room partially to get what you needed and partially to cool off before you lost it on Luke. While you were there, you couldn’t help but let your mind wander. Did most Jedi act like this? You didn’t know much about the religion because the Empire did its best to destroy all evidence of their existence, so having a way to look up and compare behavioral patterns betwixt Jedi was basically impossible. Wait, if Vader was Luke’s father, did he act like this at some point? Did he complain about things like food, scenery, or maybe, like stupid little things like sand? Well, you couldn’t actually blame him if he didn’t like sand. It’s coarse, rough, irritating, and it gets everywhere!

“(Name)?” Luke called from the other room shaking you from your thoughts. He was probably making sure that you didn’t need help with something. You went back and handed him his drink as he thanked you. After a moment or two you asked him, “So, how is your food?” Luke response was, “Pretty good. It tastes different from when we had it on Endor, though. Cooking it over a fire gave it more of a smoky taste.” At that point your blood was at a boil. You knew that he wasn’t trying to insult you or your cooking at all, but he was still complaining! If he said or did one more thing to complain- Right as you were thinking this, Luke gave an unsatisfied groan as he looked over the rest of the food that was sitting on the table. That was that shot that made the Death Star explode.

“LUKE SKYWALKER!” You snapped at him, causing him to startle. “What?” Luke said in the whiniest voice possible. That just added to your fury. “You have done nothing but complain for almost a week now!” You scolded him in an almost motherly tone. A very, very, angry, motherly tone. “I do NOT complain!” He responded in a tone that let you know he was more aware of the problem than he was willing to admit. “You complain all the time!” You said drawing out some of your words to make a dramatic emphasis. “Prove it!” The grumpy Jedi across the table challenged you. You quickly retort, “You were still complaining that you never got those power converters from Toshi station TWO YEARS after the you didn’t get them.” This made him start to pout as he crossed his arms and muttered under his breath, “I still never got those converters...” as much as you wanted to say that response surprised you, it didn’t.

There was a time of silence between the two of you, where the air was heavy with tension. Finally, Luke gave a sigh and looked at you, his gaze now softened with a decent amount of guilt in it. “Look, after everything that’s happened, I’m having a hard time with handling things. But, I shouldn��t have let my pessimism get out of hand so it was horrible to try to be with me. I’m sorry.” Luke offered as an apology. You wanted to still be mad at him; you really did. But, it was impossible to do so when those sad, blue, puppy dog eyes were looking at you like that. You did decide, however, that you could at least pretend that you were still angry, so you stood up, and unconvincingly stomped off to the large seat at the other end of the room.

Luke must have known that you weren’t really angry at him anymore because he got up and followed you; something he wouldn’t have done if he knew that you needed space to cool down. He sat down behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist before asking, “Do you forgive me?” You sighed in defeat, and turned around in his hold so you could look at him. “You’re lucky you’re so cute, Skywalker.” You said in mock sternness. Luke just chuckled and kissed you on the forehead.

[maxrev]

I actually posted this under my former blog. Reposting it here because this fits today’s prompt for #shepardweek so much more than anything else I could come up with. Hope it’s okay that it’s not a ‘new’ work. 

It was hard to write, is still hard to read even for me. Heavy angst but if you’re okay with that, I think you’ll be happy to make it to the end :)

Supergiant - the largest star in the universe that burns the brightest but at what cost?

The argument had taken place on the bridge, loud enough for the whole crew to hear.

Shepard stormed off to his cabin.

Out of sight of everyone, a bone weary fatigue crashed down on him, feet stumbling through the dimly lit cabin towards the bathroom. His hand paused at the switch, afraid to shine a light on the irrefutable proof of the monster that lived inside his body and his mind. A monster slowly taking over his life.

The hand dropped heavily back to his side, too tired to fight even a small battle such as this. It seemed like all his life he’d been fighting something.

The cracks in his skin pulled tight with the smallest of movements, the fissures having grown alarmingly after the latest mission. They ached continuously, a throbbing pain he’d still not become accustomed to but pushed aside with sheer force of will. Even breathing caused him pain.

Weariness and guilt from this last mission ate away at him, relentless in its intensity, along with the argument he’d just had with Joker. He knew his pilot’s defense mechanism, knew that he in fact cared deeply but covered it up with jokes and smart ass comments. Yet, he’d still let this irrational anger override that knowledge, lashing out at the man.

Battle weary fingers pinched the bridge of his nose, enraged words coming back to haunt him. Anger got him nowhere but as much as he tried to corral it into submission, it refused to be tamed. John wasn’t sure if the anger was fuel for the scars or the scars brought his anger closer to the surface. Didn’t matter. He’d have to go and apologize to Joker. But later, once they’d both had time to cool off.

It rankled him that Anderson had felt the need to ask Joker to look out for him. It didn’t even make sense. Besides, he was fine. He would continue to push onward, get the job done, save the galaxy, save humanity and all the alien races, despite the fact that most of them refused to listen. Anderson should know that about him by now. Commander Shepard would complete this mission even with all the odds stacked against him.

His optimism deflated like a pin prick to a balloon. Thessia’s destruction, the end result of the mission there brought anger and pain, followed closely by despair. All of it piled onto shoulders already weighed down beyond all human comprehension. Failing that mission had been worse than a punch to the gut. Commander Shepard didn’t lose.

I should have been better prepared, should have done more, should have saved them all….

That sinister inner voice whispered through his mind, malicious words making him doubt his abilities as a Commander.

John leaned against the counter, staring into the mirror at the hideous angry red scars glowing savagely in the darkness. They cut a path across his face, a sign of the monster that was desperate to claw it’s way out and break free. He reached a hand outwards, fingertips a hairsbreadth away from running across the cracks, their edges smooth from within the glass, but the hand in the mirror trembled, slight but unmistakable, unable to carry the action out.

Pulling his hand back sharply, both palms pushed flat against the counter and he leaned in, angling his head down to hide the monster from his eyes. Sucking in a deep breath, he fought a maelstrom of emotions, shoving them angrily back into the box they’d escaped from, slamming the lid down.

There wasn’t time for them. Never had been time as long as he could remember. By now, it should be second nature, just like breathing. A brittle laugh slipped past chapped, scarred lips. Sure -- just as easy as the breath he was holding in even now.

Helpless to resist, he looked up once more, the blue of his eyes bright against the shadows that surrounded him, brighter even than the scars, rings of red beginning to shine within their depths. The only part of him he could say with a certainty was still John Shepard. A small part that was being swallowed whole.

He found it was impossible to face what he was becoming. No matter what the galaxy saw, what his crew saw, he was just John Shepard. Just a regular soldier trying to succeed at an oath he swore, just like so many around him. Unable to bear the monster in the mirror, he let his eyelids fall in surrender and yet, right before they slid down, he swore he saw the lip in the mirror form soundless words...weak-minded fool.

How long he stayed like that, hoping the monster would retreat back into the depths of his soul, he wasn’t sure.

Slowly lifting his head again, his eyelids crept open only to see those piercing blue eyes rimmed subtly with red staring back at him, face ravaged by the same deep, vivid crimson scars. The monster was still winning.

Cerberus had changed him forever, creating this thing that lived inside the man. A monster demanding to make itself known. Searing anger pulsed through his veins devouring him from the inside. The recklessness with which they’d taken his broken body in order to rebuild it reached new levels of depravity. As if that operation wasn’t corrupt enough to begin with.

He tried to shrug all the dark thoughts away but with Thessia still on his mind, those thoughts magnified, turning bitter, relentless, hollow...I’d have been better off dead.

His shower forgotten, John made his way to the bedroom, sagging onto the end of his bed with a quiet groan. Hands more suited to wielding weapons, meeting out his own brand of justice from time to time, cradled his head, fingertips biting into his skull as if the physical pain would drown out the pain of his anguished soul.

The constant highs and lows of his emotions, the weight of the decision he carried, the lives lost, he felt like he was going mad.

Time passed in a haze. Fingers, numb from gripping his skull for so long, slowly slid down his skull, shaved hair bristly and coarse against his palms, rough calluses catching on the edges of his scars, tugging at the skin painfully. The sensation was a reminder they were all too real. A soft but deceptive voice in his head mocked him...monster.

Dr. Chakwas had explained about these scars and the healing process -- “Negative attitudes and aggressive acts create adverse reactions with your cybernetic implants, while peaceful thoughts and compassionate actions promote healing. If you maintain a positive outlook, I believe your facial scarring will heal on its own.”

He’d tried the former with little success. Even more conscientious of his choices after Kaidan had come aboard, the perfect calming influence. Kaidan grounded him, though John hadn’t said as much. Putting that kind responsibility on him was something John refused to burden him with.

If he was honest with himself, Kaidan was so much more to him than just a brother in arms, his friend...his lover. Kaidan was the other half of his soul, making John complete in ways he hadn’t even known was possible. He was John’s lifeline out of the dark places he’d been falling deeper into since he’d woken up in that damn Cerberus lab. Kaidan was the peace he so desperately craved and hadn’t known he’d needed.

The days had flown by. The galaxy and all those in it, those that John had sworn to protect and fight for, continued to fight amongst themselves, making stupid choices, ignoring what was right in front of them. It all made John so damn angry, anger that manifested itself outwardly.

Even having Kaidan near him, fighting at his back, pulling him from the brink no longer helped. John wasn’t sure if he’d ever had that level of peace to begin with, probably never would, even with Kaidan by his side. He was also just a man and John would never seek him out like a greedy child in search of it, draining his own well dry.

Time grew shorter with each passing hour and his patience was wearing paper thin. There was no time for petty squabbles or second guessing; everyone needed to work together and they needed to do it now! But when he thought of going out there, facing Liara, reality crashed back down on him and the anger threatened to pull him under again. He’d failed her.

Right away he could feel a pull on the left side of his face. The scars would only get worse as he continued with this line of thought and yet, he felt helpless to change it. Closing his eyes, hands tightening into fists, he fought for some semblance of control, serenity in the midst of the storm but it eluded him.

How was anyone able to look him in the face when the monster so noticeable in the mirror looked back at them? If he was honest with himself, he knew the only thing that really mattered to the rest of the damn galaxy was that he save them all, regardless of the cost to his own soul.

And weren’t those his thoughts too, in a way? That he could do this. Hell no, more than that. He had to. There were times he felt the whole reason he’d been born, that all the hardships he’d endured throughout his life was to hone him - mind, body and soul - for this exact moment in time. It was a sobering thought. A painful one because as he’d come to know his crew, found a love worth living for, he found continuing on this path caused unimaginable anguish. He found that John Shepard wanted these people in his life, wanted a life with Kaidan after this war was over.

Before, he’d never thought beyond saving the galaxy. Now, he thought about it constantly.

A quiet whoosh startled him from his dark thoughts, the door to his cabin sliding opening. There was only one person who would walk in unannounced.

Arms leaning heavily on his thighs, John lowered his head, pulling in on himself in an attempt to hide the scars, the evidence of the monster within. By now, everyone on board had seen the damage but even so, he couldn’t stand to have Kaidan, the most important person in his world, see him like this. Even for Kaidan, John wanted to be strong. After Thessia, his scars had gotten much worse as well as his state of mind.

“Thought I might find you here.”

“And here I am.” Even to his own ears, he sounded weary. He should really take that shower and start looking for more intel. There was a pile of datapads littering his desk. Maybe something could be found in them to help in this damn war. “Was there something you needed?”

“Just wanted a mission debriefing, so I could fill out the reports.”

John didn’t buy it. If anything, Kaidan usually ended up doing his own reports and then John’s as well, without being asked or to verify info. “Why are you really here, Kaidan?” Still not looking up, John knew the biotic was rubbing the back of his neck.

“Just...I just wanted to see how you were doing.”

Pulling rank might be all that would give John the ability not to fall apart here and now. “I’m fine, Major. I just need to be alone.”

“With all due respect, Commander, no you don’t.”

The anger he’d barely managed to control burst forth once again, this time accompanied by a flare of blue. “EDI, cut off transmission for this room. Now.” His voice snapped the order, still not looking up from his focused gaze at the floor.

EDI’s voice floated around them. “Done, Commander.”

No sooner had her voice faded, then the need to hide his scars was swept away by the anger burning through him. His head snapped up, no longer trying for control. This anger would not be denied. Blue eyes rimmed in red, blazing in indignation, met brown eyes full of compassion, completely absent of fear. The older man was unworried in the face of an anger so hot it caused a biotic flare.

“Don’t presume to tell me what I do or don’t need. You have no idea!”

Those warm brown eyes continued to gaze at him steadily. “You’re right. I don’t know. But every day I see what this war costs you, you know? How it sits heavily on your shoulders and yet... here you are, continuing to bear that weight, day in and day out. You just…you never stop. No rest for Commander Shepard.” Those last words were laced heavily with sarcasm, something rare for the biotic who was always calm and logical. 

The blue flare died out at those impassioned words and John just stared at the man who meant more to him than his own life. A heavy sigh followed Kaidan’s words, his head turning away. Whether gathering strength for another verbal attack or because he couldn’t bear to look at the monster before him, John wasn’t sure. The monster inside his head whispered it was the latter but the heart said otherwise.

Strong fingers rubbed at the older man’s temples and John’s eyes locked onto their movement. Those same hands were the ones he’d held with his own a countless number of times. Guilt flared in his chest, heart pounding painfully, knowing he was the likely cause of Kaidan’s oncoming headache. He never wanted to cause Kaidan pain in any way but felt powerless to push aside his doubts, his fears or the anger he felt towards himself.

Eyes shuttering closed, he pushed out the world around him, even the man he loved. What did he have to offer as broken as he was?

He was startled when warm hands touched his face, eyelids slowly lifting, weighted down as they were by his own misery. Kaidan had quietly walked over and stood before him now. Jerking his head sideways, strong hands gripped the sides of his jaw firmly to hold it in place, tugging the skin of his scars. John welcomed the pain, a reminder of what he was becoming.

A thumb slid softly along his lower lip, hands tilting his head up to meet the eyes that could see deep into his soul. “John, stop this madness. No one thinks less of you, no one expects you to be a superhero. No one cares about your scars. We...what we do care about is you.”

He knew Kaidan meant well but didn’t the Council, the Alliance, all those colonies -- even the crew -- think he was their superhero? That he could swoop in and save the day? Rescue them all and they could go on as they had before? He was just so weary of wearing that damn cape every single day, rushing out guns blazing to tackle another problem, save another soul. Who was going to save his?

He couldn’t stop the words that tumbled out, “And you, Kaidan? What do you care about?”

Those beautiful lips tipped up on one side in the smirk John loved so well. His own hands came up to grasp Kaidan’s forearms, to soak in the heat that radiated from the other man’s body.

“You, John. I care about you, the man I see before me. I’ll stand by the Commander; fight by his side, pull him back when he runs too close to the edge. I’ve always got his six. But the Commander, for all his strengths, is just John Shepard right here.”

Kaidan put one hand on John’s heart and the younger man was sure he could feel its frantic rhythm.

Warm brown eyes sparkled with humor, “Both of them have a hard-headed stubbornness and willingness to forge on, pushing past the toll this fight for the galaxy puts on the body and mind, along with the grey in my hair. But yeah...the vulnerable, compassionate, very real John Shepard? I’ll be here for him no matter what life throws at him. At us.”

Lips lifted in a tired smile, the first one John had since Thessia. Kaidan was the only one who understood him, the only one who could march past his defenses, his doubts, his fears and come through unscathed. John watched as the smile fell from Kaidan’s face, a seriousness washing over him.

“I care that the man I love, John Shepard, is going to lose himself in this mission just to save the people who demand it and don’t think about what the hell they’re truly asking. And I can’t...John, I can’t let that happen. You’re what I need, have always needed. I care about making you happy, you know. That’s what keeps me going day after day.”

Not giving him a chance to reply, Kaidan pushed himself in between John’s legs, gazing down at him with eyes so pure, so intense, so calming. But was it enough?

“They look up to me, Kaidan. Everyone. The whole damn galaxy! They don’t need to see me when I’m like this. Don’t need to see the monster I’m becoming. Don’t need to see the doubt, the fears and pain, the cost of it all. The only one I want them to see is Commander Shepard.”

Strong hands moved from his face, trailing softly down his arms. Kneeling in front of him, Kaidan placed his hands on John’s thighs, those dark, warm eyes never leaving his. “You’re not a monster, John. You’re just as human as the rest of us.”

He opened his mouth to remind the older man he wasn’t entirely human anymore, only to be silenced with a kiss. John stiffened in response, dark thoughts still crowding his mind, whispering to him he wasn’t worthy of this affection. Kaidan angled his head, deepening the kiss, hands sliding around the younger man’s back, pulling him closer.

John let everything go, relaxed as that warm, muscular body came in contact with his, parting his lips as Kaidan’s tongue slid along the crease of his lips, seeking entrance. He couldn’t hold back a moan.

The need to feel that body under his hands, trail his fingers along warm tan skin consumed him but he continued to resist in a misguided notion that he didn’t deserve Kaidan, didn’t deserve having someone to turn to or share his life with, someone who loved him just as he was -- brokenness, scars and all.

Kaidan broke off the kiss and leaned back, brown eyes regarding John with nothing but love. Reaching up, he touched the tip of one finger to a scar at the top of John’s face. Softly, with great tenderness, the pad of that finger followed the jagged lines, tracing every one of them, pausing only when it snagged on a rough edge before continuing along its path.

A tear slipped down John’s face, humbled by Kaidan’s acceptance, that this man accepted him so completely. A thumb caressed the tear, wiping it away, a warm hand cupping the strong jaw with great care.

“Your scars are a part of you, John. They show the lengths you’ll go to for all of us, for the galaxy...to make sure there’s a life for us at the end. And...I...uh, actually find them kind of sexy, if you want to know the truth.”

John’s eyes widened in surprise at the admission, a chuckle rumbling through him as that trademark smirk appeared along with a red flush across cheekbones. Shaking his head at the man before him, John pulled him close in a fierce hug, overwhelmed by emotion as those strong arms wrapped around him in return. This man meant everything to him; a safe harbor from the endless storm his life had become. He could shoulder all the responsibility the universe piled on him as long as Kaidan was at his side.