#it's just a galaxy brain shooting around the universe.

[m3r1m4r5u333]

So my take on why Tommy calls Buck Evan...

I think it's because it bothers Tommy, that he's older than Buck. Because as much as he claims to find Buck "adorable"... That word is kinda telling, I think. It's infantilising. Puppies and kids are adorable! Calling your date adorable? Uhh.. It kinda just sounds like you think they're immature, wet behind the ears, less capable than you are.

So... Yes, Tommy is older than Buck.

Buck, the nickname? I think that to Tommy it just feels like a juvenile nickname. He prefers Evan because it sounds more mature, because Evan sounds like a grownass adult, a man. And Buck btw... is often used to describe a young animal. Older deers etc. are bulls, stags.

And yeah, Buck may not mind being called 'Evan' anymore. He has grown, maybe he now likes someone calling him Evan. Might be a nice change, someone acknowledging his maturity that way. As Eddie said to Buck after the lightning strike. Nobody is the same person from one day to the next. Buck doesn't need to be anything for anyone.

However... I do think the combination of 'Evan' with everything else that's going on, like Tommy calling him adorable... It does feel like trouble on the horizon.

Tommy... He's the guy who shows up to a 80's theme party wearing a henley.

And don't get me started on "he couldn't change, he was on call". C'mon, he was on car, nobody would rely on public transport when they're a firefighter on a call. He drank orange juice, he had a car parked nearby, he could have just taken a change of clothes with him to the party, and quickly changed his clothes if he was alerted to work.

Seriously, how many seconds does it take him to change a shirt, he has literally been trained to get dressed quickly, he's a firefighter!

So yeah he could have dressed according to the theme. He just didn't want to. He thought the theme costumes were above him. He thinks he's past that age, too old for costumes.

So that's why he calls Buck Evan.

Because he doesn't get silly fun, really. He thinks he's too old for nicknames, and theme costumes, and he thinks he's Buck's elder.

Because he hasn't been there to realize how much Buck has gone through, how much he has matured from where he started. He hasn't seen Buck help Eddie raise Chris, he hasn't seen the way Buck is always there for people to pick up the pieces and fix things when someone is in trouble. He hasn't seen Buck's responsible, mature side, has he?

Nope, he wasn't there to see Buck's growth, how wild he was when he first joined the team, how different he is from that Buck 1.0. So now he just sees the energetic, bubbly personality, the baby bi awkwardly stumbling out of the closet, like a Bambi on ice...

and thinks that Buck is adorable.

Like he's a child.

And.... I have a feeling that learning that Buck just trashed a hotel room suite with Eddie... will hardly make him rethink this impression!

[accio-victuuri]

CPN : ZZ’s mysterious driver & Web’s “selfie”

So I thought about whether i should talk about this or just leave it be. Cause i did mention the mystery driver in the August CPN post but I kept it vague and left minimum information. Because at the time, it sounded so galaxy brained and that it’s something that will never be what we want to be. And that’s fine. There are a lot of cpns/speculations/interpretations that are barely plausible and even us, we know it’s not possible, hence the term “clowning”.

this is one tho is making all of us go 👀.

( isn’t he the most gorgeous man ever? i don’t blame wyb for wanting to fetch him or visit. )

If you’ve been in this fandom long enough, you’ll know that sometimes the most nonsensical clues will become key points in the future. or those impossible cpns will (sometimes) sooner or later become more true.

This incident is a great example of that…..

For ZZ’s LOCH filming, there are proxy shooters who wait outside the site and film when ZZ arrives and leaves. Their clue is the car he uses but i don’t think he was ever photographed coming in or out like what happened with SBMS. That time, you can physically see him leaving/arriving to the hotel back entrance. There are photos and videos.

So 8/13, the same thing happens and cpfs noticed that the driver looked peculiar. It’s not his face per se, but what’s on it (p2).

We were clowning that it’s WYB with his helmet but it doesn’t look like his usual one. It’s too covered up.

At the time it was full on clowning. Would he really do this? Were other drivers photographed before and what did they look like? Is this the first time this mystery driver popped up? I haven’t seen the answer to that so that’s why i’m questioning it too. Maybe XZ does not want any part of the team to be recognizable.

A piece of the puzzle is added tho because of the Selfie WYB shared. As displayed above, we are putting it side by side. So is this him confirming our clowning? What are the chances that we were speculating about him wearing a different kind of helmet ( as the driver ) then he pops up with this selfie in particular.

Is this another coincidence? 🤡🤡🤡🤡

It’s also giving this vibe. His photo when he celebrated ZZ’s birthday and drove to where he was. Did he take this photo for the same purpose?

There is also a cpn going around based on XZ’s workday, it ended 20:20 and then WYB posted 20:39 so did he post it for XZ to see after work?

CPFs also noticed it’s taken from wechat camera. So meaning he sent it to someone else and yet again, we got leftovers. You could actually argue that “selfies” or things he shares on his weibo now are “leftovers”. I actually like that. He did not take a selfie or film a video with the intention of “posting for fans”. He probably shared it to xz or his circle of friends and decided why not share it on his weibo + fans.

Bonus is in today’s episode of SBMS there is this scene. Shengyang was looking through drawings of what looks like a moto goggles (?). LOL. The universe is really joining in on the clowning. Does WYB know this scene will come up the next day? Hmmmmmm…

It’s one of those things that is the reason why so many people are drawn to this pairing and fandom in general. Candies like this are why more and more people, even to this day, are becoming cpfs. We don’t even have to make “brainwashing” packages. You can’t even make these up. It just happens.

-END.

Disclaimer: I know the implications and dilemma of taking candies from these proxy shooters who make their lives hard. Tho the entrance of the shooting site is a public space and they know LOCH crew is in there, it’s still not an excuse to camp out. If you think about it, these paparazzi are the reason why the mystery driver have to dress like that instead of a normal person. So yeah. I understand if people don’t wanna eat this candy because of that or feel 50/50 about all of this.

[carveredlunds]

inspired by this post and this post (and probably others i’ve seen over the years but can’t remember! if you’ve talked about this idea before, chime in!) and the fact that i’ve just watched “the man who would be king”. but why didn’t season 15 have more meta episodes? 

we had “atomic monsters”, where becky called out chuck’s bad writing, which was kind of meta, and we had “the heroes’ journey”, a send-up of sam and dean’s plot armour that ground the dramatic tension of the season to a screeching halt and was played for laughs. i guess we had chuck watching tv screens in “galaxy brain”, and several references to chuck ‘cancelling shows’, but the meta was shockingly light for a season where god is your final antagonist.

why didn’t we have sam and dean look directly into the camera, like castiel does in “the man who would be king”? they could have looked directly at the camera, begging the audience to let them go (because what was the ‘point’ of season 15 if not to be a commentary on how it had become a shambling and zombified version of its former self, with the characters desperately fighting for freedom?)

instead of whatever the heck “the heroes’ journey” was, why not go the opposite way with it, and go full existential horror with the idea of plot armour? instead of having sam and dean lose their plot armour, why not increase it? have sam and dean on a regular hunt, and sam gets stabbed, but he doesn’t die, because chuck doesn’t want him to go out this way. or dean gets horrifically injured, but it just heals by itself, in front of his very eyes, because chuck doesn’t want his favourite toy to be broken. 

why not have them become aware that they’re in a tv show? have them say they’re going somewhere one scene, and then suddenly, the scene changes and they’re there, but maybe sam says to dean “what just happened?” because they insta-travelled. they didn’t drive or walk. (side note: an episode of “doctor who” called “forest of the dead” did this, and it was so creepy.) or how about the brothers become aware of background music? suddenly, the music goes all tense and scary, and tfw look around wildly for where it’s coming from, before a monster of the week shows up.

and, to take that further, imagine having chuck interact directly with the scenes themselves? imagine something absolutely wild happening. like in “proverbs 17:3”, we open on one of chuck’s planned endings. sam is dressed all in white, clearly possessed by lucifer, and dean shoots him in the head, only for him to sit back up again. the scene freezeframes, and chuck steps into the shot and says “nah, too old school” or something like that, and rotates his finger, and the scene rewinds like an old video tape, and another ending plays out. the big thing here? this isn’t alternate universe sam and dean, but our sam and dean, playing out endings for a while until chuck gets bored and leaves or something.

sam and dean did talk about free will and destiny and yada yada yada, but they never truly acknowledged the cosmic horror of being two very special bugs in a jar that god has personally kept alive and suffering for his own entertainment. the season 14 finale set up such an interesting and self-aware situation that season 15 never followed through with. the penultimate episode was literally what was left of tfw, alone on a dying planet, the only characters on an empty stage, and the absolute mind fuckery of that was never really talked about.

for a show as meta as “supernatural” that had iconic episodes like “the french mistake”, lines like crowley’s ‘castiel, haven’t seen you all season’ in “caged heat”, and so many directly paralleled shots to past episodes, season 15 could have really gone full meta, but they were cowards.

[corvuserpens]

There’s Always The Next Night - A Short “The Sandman” Fic

Tomorrow I’m going on a two week vacation somewhere where I might not have access to a computer, and apparently the Tumblr app isn’t compatible with my phone (weep), so before I possibly go off the grid, I’m leaving you a little piece of creative writing inspired by this amazing playlist I found on Youtube titled “pov: morpheus invites you to his kingdom.” 

The last song on the playlist in particular, Juliee Cruise’s Falling, jammed my brain into a vivid daydream that’s based on another dream I had where I could fly, a dream that felt so real I can still remember what it feels like to this day. If you read this fic, I hope it makes you smile as much as it did me while furiously thumbing on my phone at 2am.

See you soon, Dreamers. Good night.

Morpheus takes you by the hand. You feel yourself begin to float, feet abandoning the ground of the Dreaming, leaving damp cobblestones and dewey grass behind. Up, up, up you go, higher and higher, the earth below you growing distant, the endless azure sky above coming ever closer. You feel yourself getting smaller, insignificant. Your throat swells until you can no longer breathe, your stomach ties into a knot so tight it hurts, and your heart -- you cannot recall a time when you felt it hammer this hard, beating so violently you fear it might stop. 

You are flying, and it terrifies you. The human mind was not meant to perceive these heights. You hold Dream’s hand tight, knowing it’s the only anchor you have, the only life line that will keep you from falling and crashing to a million bloody pieces. He pulls you closer, tells you to not be afraid.

“I will guide you,” he assures you, his quiet, soothing voice washing over you like honey, calming your frantic heart, releasing the invisible grip on your throat. His hands go around your back. Reluctantly, you let go of his hand to snatch a hold of his black robes instead. The two of you start to move, slowly. A soft wind blows at your hair and clothes. Your body feels weightless, a feather in a breeze, and though your pulse has calmed, it still races continuously, a pounding so loud it’s impossible to ignore. And then, you see them.

Stars. Billions of them, all around you. You’re cruising in their midst. There is no longer land below you, or even an up or down, only myriad galaxies, star dust, nebulous clouds of purple, green and gold. All that infinite light shines on you, on Morpheus’ pallor, mirrored in the black pools of his eyes, and you’re reminded of how ancient he is, how surreal, how inhuman. He, who is a personification of something so much grander than anything your own mortal conscious could ever conceive. He is Endless, like these stars. As infinite as the universe. And you’re no longer afraid.

Timidly, you release your grasp on him. He senses you shifting and adapts, letting you slip out of his hold, giving you space, yet always ready to catch you should panic return to claim you again. It doesn’t. Still, he offers his hand to you, which you don’t hesitate to take back. You might be feeling bolder, but not quite that much. You stretch out your arms as though they are wings, find your balance in this hollow space. It feels... Good. Just like that, you completely forget about fear. You are soaring now, you and him, faster and faster, two shooting stars in a black sea of lights. You have never felt so free in your life, so joyful. You smile so wide your cheeks hurt; laughter bubbles up in your chest; your eyes sting with tears that have nothing to do with wind or sorrow, and everything to do with the kind of exhilaration one can only find in dreams. 

When you look to the side, you realize Oneiros has both hands free. You never even noticed he had let you go. He smiles, a subtle, enigmatic tilt of his lips, an expression of pride that makes his eyes glow from within. “You’ve done it,” he tells you.

“I did,” you reply, barely a breath, a huff really, and look back at the stars that surround you. Somehow, it feels as though they are smiling for you, too. You dive and ascend, spin and whirl, confident and at ease, a galactic whale breaching through waves of nebulae, as if you were born for this, as if it was in your blood all along. You wonder if this is how all birds feel when they leave the nest to take to the wing for the first time. It must be. 

Dream accompanies you wherever you go, apart from you but never going far, the inky rippling of his cloak blending with the black void, eyes as brilliant as the stars through which you fly. Even when you dive into the gaping hole of a supernova, unbothered by it’s swirling heat, how it pulls taut at the particles that compose you, he follows, into the deep waters beyond where little glowing creatures dance around you. It’s a marvel that words cannot describe, and you could never find the courage to look for suitable terms to ellaborate your experience. You can only take it in and... feel it. Pink tentacles swimming in night blue waters. So many, so close, you can feel their brush against your skin. Cold that reminds you that you are alive, never that you are dying. Silky water flowing through your fingers, blowing your hair into a cloud. And Dream across from you, watching you, ever the lighthouse to guide you home, who will never let you become lost in yourself, either in the fogs of your own grief, your regrets, your melancholy, or in the chaos of your own imagination. You reach through the darkness, past the twinkling little creatures. His fingers wrap around yours and pull you, towards a new image, over a new sky.

You travel over entire mountain ranges that move and transform, rocky behemoths rising and falling as if several shapeless beings breathed at different intervals. You fly above forests and meadows, above rivers and lakes, until at last you reach the Palace of Dreams, tall, bright and magnificent, its towers and spirals reaching into the heavens, an amalgam of monuments that were once dreamed composing its walls and parapets, its faithful trio of guardians at the door. The Lord of Dreams brings you inside without ever touching the floors; you pass the entrance hall, the library, the throne room. With each threshold crossed, your eyelids grow heavy, your mind slows to a sludge, and you understand that your time in the Dreaming is coming to an end. For a brief moment, you allow your eyes to close, just for a second, you think, trusting Morpheus to lead you forward. When you open them again, you’re in a room with walls made of pearl, iridescent columns of white and cream stretching up into an impossibly tall ceiling, which you are facing as you lie on your back midair. Dream floats above you, his delicate features ever tranquil as he holds both your hands and lowers you down. 

You tighten your fingers around his -- you don’t want to let go. But you are so sleepy. You can feel it take hold of you: that blackness, that fading sensation of drifting... Drifting...

Your back touches down on a mattress soft as cotton candy. Above you, a dossel of midnight curtains full of silver and gold stars envelops you and Dream. Your head sinks into the most comfortable pillows you have ever felt, and though you do not wish to close your eyes, you do. His hands continue to hold yours. They are cold and hard as ice, so much so you can feel the lining of his bones beneath his smooth skin.

“Just a few more minutes, Lord,” you beg in a frail mumble.

His voice, black velvet, makes you a promise: “We will see each other again, Child of the Stars.” Upon your cheek, you feel the press of cold, chapped lips, light as the flutter of a butterfly’s wings. “Soon. For now... It is time to wake up.”

When you open your eyes, you can still hear the echo of his voice, the touch of his hand, his mouth pressed to your cheek. And you smile despite the sadness in your heart for having to wake up from such a dream.

After all, there is always the next night.

[dailyreverie]

Jul! It's ok if you have something else planned, but the second I read Day 23's prompt I immediately got nervous Bucky vibes planning a proposal. You can totally ignore this if you're not feeling it. Love this challenge and reading your pieces! xxx

Forever

A/N: Shannon! I'm sorry this is a little late, but since you requested it I wanted it to be perfect! So Merry Christmas I guess lol 🎁 and Happy New Year as well! I really hope you like this, and I hope you are enjoying your holidays 💖💖

Day 23 - Proposal || Nerves, candles, and a tasty meal.

December Writing Challenge!

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Word count: 1k words

It wasn't weird for Bucky to ask you to go up to the roof of your building, many nights have passed with you and Bucky up there. When the world gets too much, and when you want to escape, the always empty roof of your apartment was the perfect place for it after a hard day of work.

This time, however, it was strange.

Bucky usually texts you a quick invitation to see him there, maybe to grab something to eat when you go up, but this time he only offered you his hand when he approached you with a quick kiss.

"Let's go up." He invited you with a smile and shining eyes, just a few minutes after he got home.

"Are you sure, Buck? It's freezing today, it snowed all day." His eyes looked around the room for an answer, his mouth opening and closing repeatedly. Something was bothering him, running around his mind. "Hey, are you alright?" You stood up, ignoring his hand and caressing his strong shoulders instead.

The worried look in your eyes made him let out a huff of a laugh, a grin adorning his face. "I'm good, doll, don't worry. I just- I-" Bucky stuttered, his shaky hands looking for yours.

"Okay, yeah," Standing on your tiptoes, you kissed his lips softly. You got it, with his incomplete phrases and his fidgeting fingers: he needed the quiet of the night sky. "Let's go up."

It was a quiet climb up the stairs. Bucky kept stealing glances of you, quivering breaths leaving his lips every few steps. You could only be there for him, with your thumb caressing his hand and shooting him a kind smile.

Once you got to the top, Bucky reached for the handle of the roof door and stopped there, just for a couple of seconds, taking a deep breath.

"Bucky, are you alri-?" Your question was cut short when he opened the door, revealing twinkling lights and candles lighting up the atmosphere of the usually dark space, making the snow-covered floor shine like glitter. "What- Bucky, what is this?"

He let out a sigh when you looked at him, his blue eyes looking like the night sky reflecting every light on them. There was a knot forming in your stomach when you saw the way he was looking at you, like there was nothing else in the world; and for him, there wasn't.

Bucky's hand caught yours, lacing your fingers together and walking you towards the center of the roof. His feet followed a path of candles, sure of every step and squeezing your hand every couple of steps he took even with the snow that had fallen earlier.

"I wanted to make something magical for you because you..." He sighed shakily just as his voice sounded, bringing your attention away from the thousands of lights around you and back to him. "You mean the world to me, y/n. You are every reason I have to keep fighting and to be better, to wake up and to go to sleep. You make me so, so happy, like nothing in this universe has ever had."

"Bucky..." His name came out of your lips in a trembling voice. The cold December air and all the emotions that Bucky was making you feel teaming up to make you quiver. You wanted to say something, anything, but the way his eyes were looking at you, shining like a thousand galaxies, had stolen every thought away from your brain.

"I feel like I've lived so many different lives, and on so many times I have felt like I have lost everything, but I know I haven't because every time here you are..." Bucky's voice got trapped in his throat with emotion. Your hand reached up to cup his face, trying to ease him caressing his cheek as you always did. His hands did the same, cleaning away a tear from your cheek. "It doesn't matter how dark or how hard things get, you are always there to bring me back, to show me how much you love me and how much you care for me. And I love you for that, so damn much."

"I love you too." You whispered, your voice choking up as happiness flooded your eyes.

"I want to spend the rest of my life with you in it to make it better, and wanted to start the next year with the promise of having you by my side. So... darling..." Bucky's eyes locked with yours, and after one last sigh, it felt like his heart had stopped racing. You did that to him, reassure him, making him know that with you he had everything under control; that is why he couldn't spend the rest of his life not having you by his side. Bucky got on one knee, your hands trapped in his as he took out a black velvet box from his jacket. "...Would you marry me?"

Your nodding head, quickly moving up and down, made him smile up at you. A choked-up yes left your lips, one that made you both chuckle. But then, as his fingers slid the ring up to your knuckles, you were suddenly overcome with peace. It was meant to be, you knew it in every way.

"Bucky this is... this is perfect." You spoke, looking at the ring as he stood up. He cupped your cheeks, kissing you slowly and feeling your smile against his lips. The chilly winter air made his nose feel cold against yours, nudging your own as he deepened the kiss. You clung to his jacket, not letting him move away from you. Even with the cold around you, everything you could feel was the warmth of Bucky's love for you. He was your entire future, a second more being apart from him was impossible now.

You both pulled apart, taking in a deep breath and not able to stop smiling and giggling as you did.

"We are going to get married!" Your obvious statement, full of joy as it was as your teary eyes met his, made Bucky pull your face back to his to kiss you. "I love you, Bucky. So much, forever." You spoke in between kisses, feeling his stubble against your fingertips as you held his face close to yours.

"I love you too, dollface." His lips pulled away quickly, just to dip back down to your lips again after. "Forever." It was a promise, just between you and the winter stars.

Thanks for reading! Please reblog and comment if you enjoyed it!

[shiny-mando]

Congrats Alex 🎉❤️💜 You are a fantastic writer, I can't wait to see what else your big brain comes up with! For the prompts, could I get "you have kind eyes" from the sfw prompts with Jango?

AHHHH thank you, Vee, my darling!!💕✨

Ok, so I practically yanked myself out of a writing funk to do this one so it might be a little clunky, but I absolutely love this prompt with Jango and really enjoyed working on it.

Pairings: Jango Fett x f!reader

Words: 1k

Warnings: none :) it’s just pure fluff with a tiny bit of internal angst from Jango

Ever since you could remember you’ve loved what makes each person’s face unique, how even those who look alike have defining features that belong to no one else but them. From the twi’leks, to the rodians, to other humans, you appreciated the physical characteristics that made each individual special.

It might be the curve of someone’s jaw, a scar or birthmark, or the way their eyebrows scrunched together when they were lost in thought.

But the eyes, those were your favorite. Each set you encountered was so unique you were certain no two beings in the universe shared the same kind. How could they? Eyes told stories, ones that not even words could communicate, and every living thing had a story to tell, no matter how insignificant they thought they were.

You’re staring at your own face in the mirror now, running your fingers along every inch of it to apply the cream Jango bought you after he finished his last job. It smells sweet, almost like berries, and it makes you want to take just a minute longer working it in to savor the luxurious way it makes you feel.

You hear the bathroom door whoosh open and Jango steps in, his curly black hair standing out as he passes the mirror. A hand brushes along your lower back as he moves behind you, reaching to place a towel back on its rack before squeezing your hip and walking away.

You continue massaging the cream into your face, but a few seconds later you realize you haven’t heard the sound of the door sliding shut. Then in your peripheral vision you see it. That curly black hair is still there.

You focus your vision on his reflection and there he is, just leaning against the wall with his arms folded, watching you.

“What?” you ask with a smile.

He just shakes his head, a smile teasing at his lips.

Jango has never been one to explicitly tell you how he feels, that was something you learned fairly quickly. All those years working as a bounty hunter made him think intimacy was a luxury he’d never be able to experience, and as a precaution he built up walls, something to protect him in case he found himself in a moment of weakness.

Even now, despite the time you’ve been with him, he still finds it difficult to break through those walls. He just can’t find it in him to say what he means, to use the right words. Instead, he prefers to show you how he feels, by brushing his hand along your waist in passing, a quick kiss to your temple before he walks away, or on special occasions with a small gift.

This however, the staring, that’s new. But with the way he’s looking at you, eyes filled with admiration, it makes you feel absolutely adored.

You turn around and lean against the sink.

“Come here.” you tell him.

He tilts his head and his brows furrow, like he’s trying to figure out what’s going through your head, but when your lips turn up in a soft smile he makes his way over.

He’d do anything for that smile.

When he’s standing less than a foot away you stare up at him, your eyes roaming his face like it’s the first time you’re seeing him.

You pay attention to every scar, the wideness of his nose, the way the lines between his brows deepen when he’s looking at you this way.

And those eyes, oh, those beautiful brown eyes. Every wrinkle and line in his face serves as evidence of the terrible things those eyes have witnessed, but to you they show nothing but adoration and love. So much love.

“He’s beautiful,” you think to yourself.

With one hand you reach up and place your fingers at the nape of his neck, scratching gently where his hairline ends. His eyes trail down to your lips and for a moment it looks as if he might kiss you.

“Look at me,” you instruct, breaking the silence.

His eyes shoot back up to yours.

“You have kind eyes,” you tell him.

He tries to hide it but you see the surprise on his face.

Jango has been called many things a man of his talent would find flattering. When it comes to his peers and employers, they’ve used everything from intimidating to deadly to label the skilled bounty hunter.

But kind, that was not a word he would ever use to describe himself, let alone his features. Being a bounty hunter all these years left him scarred and rugged, but he didn’t mind. If anything it helped make him appear all the more threatening to anyone who saw him without his helmet.

He never let you see that side of him, the part that took bounties in dead or alive without question. It wasn’t that he was afraid of exposing you to the harshness of the galaxy, Jango knew you had witnessed your fair share of it. Yet somehow you managed to remain sweet and kind despite all of that; you hadn’t built walls around yourself like he had.

Jango feared that by letting you see all of him, the deepest and darkest parts, he would ruin that sweetness.

But here you are standing in front of him, staring into his eyes as if you’ve become lost in them.

The fact that you, someone he cherished so much, saw him as a man who was capable of being kind, he can feel it chip away at those walls. It’s not enough to break them down completely, but it’s a start.

His face softens, those warm brown eyes still focused on yours. He reaches up to remove the hand that rests on his neck, only to bring it to his lips. They’re warm and soft against your skin, and the small gesture of affection sends chills down your arm.

“Come on, pretty girl,” he says, his smile slowly reappearing. “It’s time for bed.”

•

tag list: @rexsjaigeyes @leonidas-banana-phone @lackofhonor @smoldjarin @thefact0rygirl

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[garmmy]

garm’s video game wrap-up 2021

i started this last year (garm’s video game wrap-up 2020), just as a way to do some doodle fanart at least for the games i enjoyed throughout the year!!

through my life i’ve been mostly a portable console player, but thanks to being stuck at home these days i’ve been able to play some of my console/pc backlog. i’m glad!!

as with the previous year, these are just some short (spoiler-free!) thoughts on the games that got me through 2021.

- trails into reverie: technically started last year. super glad to revisit the crossbell gang! and i love the kind of 'sky 3rd' formula. and tbh it's still pretty amazing to see all the chars get together..if i had to choose a most "fun" trails this would probably be the one🤔

- persona 5 royal: i love persona games so it took me long enough to get to p5 😅 i love it!! the presentation is so well-polished, and i got really attached to the phantom thieves as characters..probably my 2nd fave persona game now after p2ep~

- 13 sentinels aegis rim: i think nothing needs to be said, it took over my brain and still hasn’t let go..... the visuals/music are sooo good, i love the characters so much, the story is crazy in the good way. and met some cool people through 13s too so thank you for my life!!

- ai the somnium files: another crazy game that twisted my brain around, i had a blast with zero escape trilogy and aitsf was no different! what a ride!! and i always love these mystery-solving puzzle room things. i need time to regrow my braincells for nirvana initiative...

- stellaris: my first time playing a 4x game (i am so bad at it), i wish i had more timeeee to play it but i enjoy seeing your little aliens expand out into the universe! and the space vibes(?) music is SO good as relaxing/work bgm..faster than light🎵

- ys viii: finally! i think ys8 is a lot of people’s fave ys game so i was excited to get to it? i can see why, the music is amazing, the island exploration is so fun, and...dana 😭😭  ys9 is still my personal fave but this was such a fun adventure i loved it!

- great ace attorney 1+2: i had just started (finally) playing it on 3ds when they announced the localisation T_T anyway i love all the ace attorney games so far and gaa is no different!! gaa2 especially kept me on edge the whole time (still can't top aai2 for me though 😆) 

- mass effect 1: after 1000 years of rotting in my steam library!! i think i was always scared off because shooting game, but i'm so glad i finally got myself to play it. baby's first western rpg..i LOVE space+alien+worldbuilding stuff and this game is everything i ever wanted...

- fuga melodies of steel: another group of kids to adopt and protect 😭😭 i'm so happy it's out, it was worth the wait and it's such a fun little game..i looove the aesthetics and music (i did with solatorobo too) and i really enjoy the gameplay loop this time!!

- a short hike: what a short and sweet game!! i'd love to play more relaxing exploration games like this where you just talk to npcs, do fun stuff without worrying about dying or resource management haha. amazing style and music, i love it ;w;

- night in the woods: a very relatable story to the ‘depressed 20yo dropout’ phase of my life 😂 sometimes we’re always lost but it feels a bit better to be lost with friends. the mood set by the wonderful music and aesthetics is absolutely amazing O: and the dialogue!! love it.

- detention: baby's first(?) horror game😭 i have no reflexes so admittedly those parts are hell, but that aside the aesthetic/sound make a truly amazing atmosphere i really love!! it's set before my time but even then the settings evoke a lot of nostalgia for me;;

- mass effect 2: cries i love this little alien(+some humans) gang...i missed being able to converse with your squadmates anywhere, but i LOVE the loyalty missions and how they flesh out each character, i feel extra attached to this gang. i'll miss exploring the galaxy with them!

- kuro no kiseki: still on chapter 1, but looks like 2021 was a 'start with trails, end with trails' year 😄 i'm rooting for van and friends' gourmet adventures🥞finally i'm done with my 2021 wrap-up, can't wait for new adventures in 2022!!

[starilicious]

der lagi lekin (hunter x force-user!gn! reader + ep. 8 fix-it)

》 summary: tbb episode 8 fix-it featuring a force-user reader who used to be a jedi. reader is a part of tbb and in a relationship with hunter, but the squad–nor hunter–knows that reader is a force-user. (disclaimer: all of this was written before episode 9 was released! see a/n for an explanation ^_^) (another disclaimer: if you want just the hunter x reader comfort, please let me know and i'll finish it up and post it!)

》 word count: ~8k (yeah, it's a lot LOL)

click here to read on AO3

》 warnings: in-universe swearing, mental breakdown, some slight sensory overloads, pretty mild panic attack, light canon-typical violence, angst + some comfort, survivor's guilt from surviving order 66, no use of y/n, slightly plot heavy because i got way too carried away in writing (whoops?) [if i should add more warnings, please let me know!]

》 spoilers: major ones for tbb episode 8 "reunion"

》 a/n: okay look, i gotta confess: this wasn’t supposed to be an episode 8 fix-it. really. i’m actually glad cad bane won because we get to see that the clones don’t always win every fight... i think it makes for a better and more complex story. anyway, i started out writing just reader and hunter comfort after episode 8 ended. but i’m weak for omega because she reminds me so much of my younger siblings and i ended up writing a wholeass fix-it to save her (even tho cad bane is a downright badass). i kind of liked what i did with building up the plot so much that i might continue this story of force-user!reader with tbb. but that’s a tangent we can deal with later. if you would like a part two with the hunter x reader comfort this was originally intended to be, let me know!

as i said in the summary, i wrote all of this before episode 9 came out–just be aware of that. because it’s so long, it took me a while to edit, which is why i’m posting after ep. 9 was released. but without further ado, i hope you like it! <33

》 misc. notes:

• title of the fic is from the hindi song "der lagi lekin" from the film zindagi na milegi dobara. i linked the song in blue and linked the english translations in green in case you're curious! it's not necessary to listen or understand the song, but i thought it went well with the fic :)

“Everybody get down!” Wrecker yells. You and the squad immediately do as he instructs, diving towards the ground and covering your head. Stars, I hope this works.

The charges the six of you placed around the gigantic cone that surrounds the core cylinder explodes in a deafening blast. You curl into the tightest ball you can manage, breathing so hard that the HUD inside your helmet temporarily fogs up. Metal shards of the explosion rain down on you hard.

For a moment, it seems like nothing happened. But then you hear the telltale, ear-grinding creak of the durasteel and the squad is roughly catapulted forward from the force of the cone beginning to fall down.

You struggle to stand up as you lurch this way and that, trying to regain your balance and stabilize as Tech calls out, “Hold on!”

You quickly glance at the rest of the Bad Batch, trying to see if any of them were hurt. Other than the absolutely terrified look on Omega’s face, all is well considering the circumstances. The metal groans and begins its descent, taking your feeling of being grounded with it. The weightlessness is uncomfortably familiar to say the least, but you ignore it as the six of you scramble to hold on to the side of the cone. You certainly did your fair share of acrobatics back in the war, but feeling it hum around you...it’s too much. It’s too much. You elect to push it back into the depths of your brain. But it doesn’t leave.

It never really does.

Omega’s anxious whimpers come in faintly through your thick helmet and you whip around, frantically trying to find where she is. But before you can find her, the cone lands vertically on its head and the force is so violent that your stable hold on the durasteel is broken. Panicked, you quickly fire a grappling hook towards the ledge where you were previously hanging on. The hook catches and you stop abruptly, the jerky movement almost wrenching your arm out of its socket.

You look down to see Omega falling from someone’s grip and into Hunter’s arms. You can barely tell where anyone is thanks to the lack of light and the incessant motion.

The cone begins to topple onto its side and suddenly, your wire snaps from the tension. You let out a scream of surprise as you plummet downwards, wind rushing past your helmet. ForceIdon’twanttodieohmyMakerohno–

But you never hit the ground, instead being flung sideways as the cone tears into two. On trained instinct, you tuck yourself into a ball to try and roll in order to break your fall instead of using it. That time is long gone.

You land with a sickening thud and hiss in pain as your back hits the metal hard. You hear something crack, but whether it is your armor or something internal, you have absolutely no idea, and don’t have time to check before you black out.

✧✦✧

You jolt awake, a sound making its way into your consciousness. Finally, the damn place stopped moving. You take a few minutes to try and relieve the painful pressure in your chest, reaching up to rip your helmet off because you can’t breathe, you can’t breathe.

You tilt your head back as you struggle to take in air and let the adrenaline subside. You hear voices in the distance and you strain your ears to pick up on the sound as you quickly check yourself over. As far as you can tell, nothing major is broken, and at this point, that is all that matters. Though, your head is pounding, and for more reasons than one

“–nter.. port side... what… status?”

You can’t tell who is speaking, the message too far away for you to hear. But the bits and pieces are enough for you to know that it’s someone from the Bad Batch and that you weren’t unconscious for long. You stand up and dust yourself off before slowly walking to where you believe the origin of the sound is.

“–engine… got company.” A blaster sound and then an explosion rings through the quiet.

Your eyes widen and you quickly pick up the pace, getting your blaster ready as you pick your way through the sharp metal that is jutting out from the ground.

You click on your wrist comm. “Echo, you there?” A faint crackle before his voice comes through, but the signal is scratchy. You frown in frustration.

“–are you? Hunter is... port side,” Echo says and you smack your commlink to try and get the electronics to work, but it’s no use. The device is broken, most likely from the fall, you deduce.

“Meet… Marauder.”

You don’t bother to answer, knowing Echo would probably not even be able to hear what you had to say anyway. Without a signal booster or repeater, there’s no way you can get your transmission across the channel frequency.

It takes a few minutes, but you eventually find the night sky of Bracca blinking down at you at the end of the ripped off cone. You run out to find that you’re in the middle of where the cone broke in half. Okay, new plan. I need to find Hunter. Hunter will know what to do.

You scan your surroundings. The HUD isn’t picking up on any lifeforms near you, and you realize with sinking dread that you have no more options. Whichever piece you climbed through to get to your squadmates, it would take too long for you to search for them since you don’t know their coordinates and your comm isn’t working. Frankly, the Empire–Crosshair–would find you first. You have to use it.

You have to use the Force.

A wave of nausea overcomes you at the mere thought of it and you sway. In an attempt to ground yourself, you tear off your helmet to breathe some fresh air and end up keeling over as the bile rises in your throat. Nothing comes out. You can’t tell if that’s a positive or not.

You could have saved them. Someone. Anyone.

It itches at you in the back of your head, wishing to be let out of its cage. But you can’t. You can’t do it. What’s the use anyway? All you would be doing is saving yourself. The choice of surviving it all has haunted you ever since. Your head pounds in agony.

You saw it happen. You could have helped them. And you ran like a coward. Only ever concerned about yourself.

You inhale sharply as the scene flashes before your eyes, clones shooting at you and the other Jedi. The blaster fire. The confusion. The screams.

How pathetic.

The last statement, an echo of Crosshair’s words, bounces around in your brain. You clutch your head as you let out a heartbroken sob, knee deep in the dirt and metal and grief. Tears create clean tracks down your face as you finally break down, the flood of emotions bursting the dam open. At this point, you don’t know if the emotions are yours or the ones you previously felt through the Force, all of them swirling and blending into one. The bottled up anguish merged together when you attempted to cut yourself off from the Force after the clones–your friends–attacked.

The pain of their death is perhaps the worst of all. Horror courses through you as you finally process your friends and mentors dying around the galaxy, their deaths, their distress, their fear reverberating heavily throughout the Force. Each one cripples you further as you once again struggle to breathe.

It feels like light years pass when you finally calm down to a practically numb state of being. The scenes stop replaying behind your closed eyelids and the echoing shrieks die down to a faint, hollow whisper. You’re suddenly exhausted, limbs heavy and energy sapped. It was almost relieving to finally let the Force once again flow through your body, your nerves lightly tingling with potential despite how tired you feel. You collapse onto the ground and try to recenter yourself.

But despite finally acknowledging the loss, it doesn’t feel right. You didn’t get to say goodbye. You hadn’t been able to even think about them, much less honor them, too focused on going on the run to concentrate on anything beyond the next day’s survival. Even once you joined the Bad Batch, you were paranoid about their chips, about your friends turning on you at any moment. You were always extremely reluctant to engage in the Force, even at the worst of times.

With a start, you realize that you don’t need to worry about your squadmates. Their inhibitor chips are now gone. You… you are safe.

You let out a shocked laugh as it sinks in. A glimmer of hope, of peace. I’m safe.

You sit up then, criss-crossing your legs as you survey the broken landscape of Bracca. Despite the planet being a graveyard, you feel lucidly alive. Perhaps something died in you, that wretched day. But something else, slowly but surely, began growing in its place. It’s meek, but it’s there.

You let out a breath and close your eyes, reaching for the Force like it’s an old friend. It accepts your invitation with hesitation, joining hands with you as if you did not try beating it to death for days on end. You sink into the gentle lapping waves of the Force, extending into it and widening your scope.

There’s something that lurks beneath the surface, in the deep. Dark and sinister and so utterly painful. It calls to you, quiet and low. Enticing. Tempting. And something in you knows that it’s the reason for your previous life’s demise.

But you can feel Hunter’s–and Omega’s, you realize–presence near you in the Force. Even with your relatively damaged connection to the Force after Order 66, the Bad Batch’s Force auras were something you could always hone in on. You let yourself direct your focus to the duo, letting their emotions be your beacon to the acceptance of the Light side of the Force.

In a split second, you decide to not dive deeper into the Force. This isn’t the place nor the time to discover what is prowling in the endless yawning of the Force, to discover why everything happened. So you direct your concentration to the beings on the planet, feeling and breathing your way through the Life Force.

You freeze. There’s something here. No… someone. Your eyebrows furrow as you divert your attention away from your friends and other organisms to the peculiar source. Something about this person strikes you as familiar.

Your eyes snap open and you gasp. I’m not alone. A Force-sensitive. Someone survived. Giddy beyond belief, you snatch up your helmet and begin trekking your way across the wreckage in the opposite direction of Hunter and Omega before pausing. Whoever this person is doesn’t know about your presence on the planet.

And despite the fear you felt emanating off of them in the Force, you somehow knew they were safe, at least for now. And they would remain so if you have anything to say about it. Maker forbid anything that jeopardizes this person’s fragile safety. After all, you know best what it’s like to constantly flee scene after scene.

Staying away is the best thing to do. I’ll come back for you, whoever you are.

You double back and make quick work of getting across the debris as you focus your concentration on Hunter’s and Omega’s Force signatures. As you get closer to the port side, you hear Omega’s high voice. Through your HUD, you can see her small form. You grin. She disappears then, and on closer inspection, you figure she jumped through some broken cargo doors.

The entrance she and Hunter took is too high for you to jump up to, even with the aid of the Force. Combined with your wariness of probe droids, you decide to take a different route from the right side, climbing up the broken ship. The slick oil mixed with the water still present on the metal makes for a difficult trek, and you slip more times than you would like to admit.

Hunter’s gruff voice floats up towards you and you scramble the last few meters to the edge of a hole in the ceiling before pausing. The Force is itching at the back of your head. Something’s wrong.

You peek over the edge of the giant slab of durasteel that created the hole to see bodies in white armor littered everywhere–clones, you realize. Your heart pangs in sadness at the sight.

Slightly to your right, a blue figure and a techno-service droid stand in front of a ship and a frightened Omega stands behind a defensive Hunter. Your mouth drops open. Kriff.

Cad Bane.

A memory from near the beginning of the war hits you in full force. You and Anakin had taken some time on Coruscant to catch up with each other after you passed your trials and were promoted to Jedi Knight. He told you about a mission where he had to stop a bounty hunter who successfully stole a Jedi holocron. You remember how surprised you were when you heard the bitter disgust in Anakin’s voice. The ruthlessly cunning bounty hunter not only threatened to kill Ahsoka, but he murdered Master Ropal.

Judging by the looks of it, Hunter doesn’t know who he is. If the Anakin Skywalker had a difficult time with Cad Bane, there is no way in sithhell Hunter can take him on, even with his enhanced senses. Frankly, you seriously doubt you can either, especially with how rusty your Force skills are now. And that means this isn’t going to end well.

You watch carefully as you tune into the conversation.

“Ain’t you smart?” Bane smirks. “The kid’s got it all figured it out.”

“You’re in trouble now!” the droid exclaims, pointing at Hunter and Omega. You grit your teeth in annoyance.

“Who hired you?” Hunter asks. Stalling. Not a bad move, Hunter.

“Son,” Bane sighs, already done with the brief conversation. “That’s confidential information. Now hand her over.”

Omega stays behind Hunter, taking a knee as Hunter walks forward protectively. You bristle. How am I supposed to help from up here?

“She’s not going anywhere.”

Your eyes drift over the scene in a panic and you take in the fallen clones again. An idea pops into your head. It is desperate, but at this point, you don’t have much of a choice.

Bane mimics Hunter’s movement, walking forward and putting a hand near his belt. The tension is as thick as duracrete.

“That’s unfortunate… for you.”

You grab the long barrel piece from your belt, fitting it over your blaster hurriedly as the showdown begins. Out of the corner of your eye, you see them staring each other down and you can’t help but roll your eyes. Men.

During the war, Crosshair helped you re-engineer your weapon so you could put together various pieces in the field to make a blaster gun that loosely resembled his own sniper. Seeing the clones reminded you of him. A wave of sadness washes over you, but you shake your head. Now is not the time.

You screw on the telescopic sight and set up your makeshift sniper. You peer through the viewfinder and find Bane’s chest. Your finger tenses over the trigger.

You let yourself sink deep into the Force, let it guide your actions. Inhale. Exhale. I can do this. As you relax, the mellow warmth you missed so dearly washes over you, gently eroding the torment in your mind and heart, guiding your focus to the here and now. Trust in the Force.

Wait.

Wait.

Now.

You fire two bolts straight into your target the same exact moment Bane and Hunter shoot each other. Hunter’s shot hits the droid, breaking off its leg. Bane’s shot hits directly in Hunter’s chest, as yours did Bane. Both men immediately fall backwards and slam into the ground.

“My booster!” Oh. So not a leg. Got it.

“Hunter!”

Kriff kriff kriff. You jump down nimbly from your hiding spot in the ceiling and immediately sprint towards the duo. Is he dead? You would unapologetically release sithhell on Bane if he killed the man you love.

Omega panics as she tries to wake Hunter up, continuously calling his name before taking a glimpse of her surroundings. Before you can react, she grabs her bow and pulls it taut, aiming at you. She looks petrified.

“Whoa! Omega, it’s me!” you exclaim, holding your hands up in surrender. She takes a moment to actually look at you before sagging in relief. Suddenly, the droid comes speeding out of nowhere and Omega shoots, the energy bolt whizzing past your waist and straight into the droid before it can attack you from behind.

The shot rings true and the grumpy robot falls. You turn around to grab at its exposed parts under its head and yank them out to make sure it can’t power on again.

“Thanks, Omega. I owe you one,” you say and Omega gives you a proud smile.

You place a comforting hand on her shoulder before kneeling down to shake Hunter awake, but it doesn’t work. You take a moment to analyse Hunter’s Life Force. It’s a bit dimmer, but it’s constant, meaning he’s out cold and doesn’t have the life draining out of him. You let out a sigh of relief. He’s alive. You glance back to see Bane still not moving. Good.

“What’re we gonna do?” Omega whispers as you both peer down at Hunter. His armor is smoking from Bane’s blaster shot and you exhale through your teeth, trying to come up with a plan. You slip off a glove to check Hunter’s pulse–it’s strong. You don’t want to leave Omega alone, even if Bane is unconscious, but you aren’t sure you have a choice.

“Well we can’t carry him to safety, neither of us are strong enough for that,” you think aloud, gears churning in your head. You would have to wait for help, even if you were sitting ducks.

Briefly, you entertain the thought of taking Bane’s ship. The only problem is you don’t know what trackers or other gadgets are in there–it’s too costly of a risk and a price you weren’t willing to pay. You sigh, resigned.

“Omega, you try to comm the others and see if you can wake Hunter up. I’m going to go inside this guy’s ship and see if I can find something that can help us. We have to get out of here before the bounty hunter wakes up,” you instruct and Omega nods, youthful determination flooding back into her eyes.

You leave her to it, walking cautiously towards Bane’s ship. You look down at him. His armor is smoking in two places from the shots you fired. Based on what you see, he’s still unconscious, and his Life Force reflects the same conclusion. How long that would remain, you don’t know. Which means you need to work fast.

You board the ship while you remove the sniper attachments from your blaster and clip them back onto your belt. You keep your guard up as you look around. No droids. Guess that techno-service droid is his one and only.

In an effort to slowly re-familiarize yourself with the Force, you send out a quick pulse through it to see if there are any lifeforms aboard the ship, relaxing when you find none. You rummage through all the cabinets that you discover, looking high and low as you try to locate something of use. The secret compartment in the cockpit proves to be the fruitful reward to your search. With a wave of your hand, you unlock it with ease. Bingo.

Credits. Bags of them. And they’re unmarked creds, which make your score even better. Hopefully, it would be enough to pay off your debt to Cid and give the Havoc Marauder some much-needed upgrades.

Usually, you would feel bad about stealing from someone, but considering this was a bounty hunter – Cad Bane, no less – you figure you can risk treading the grey area of your moral code.

You grab as many bags as you’re able, stuffing them inside your backpack and clipping the rest onto your belt. At this moment, you’re incredibly grateful to Tech and Echo for designing a sturdy utility belt that fits you well. The standard ones were for clones and you definitely were not a clone.

You exit the cockpit and head to the second level of the ship to see if there’s anything else you can find. A stack of crates sits in the corner across from what you assume to be a prison. You scrunch your nose in disgust as you open one to find medical supplies. Bacta patches and gel, vitapaste, rations, water, gloves, sanitary napkins–it was all there. Delighted, you close the crate and click the repulsor to make it levitate. Oh how you love technology.

You turn around and walk back up the stairs to leave the ship. You freeze at the exit ramp. You have got to be karking kidding me.

“Sorry lil’ lady.”

Cad Bane stuns Omega in front of your eyes before rounding on you and immediately fires. In a desperate attempt to save yourself, you throw your hands up and the honeyed power of the Force rushes through every fibre of your being. The blaster bolts slow down to a snail-like crawl and your eyes widen. How did I…?

Never mind how you argue with yourself. Time to get out of here!

You tiptoe around each bolt, the effort of keeping them in stasis becoming more difficult with each passing moment. You grit your teeth as your arms shake, but you keep going until you are finally off the ramp. You lower your arms and the energy hits the inside of the ship, spazzing out the blinking controls inside.

Bane turns to you in surprise, astonished at how you’re suddenly in front of him. You don’t give him the luxury of processing the event and immediately punch him in the face with as much strength as you can muster. Bane pitches backwards and collapses onto the ground, just as he did the first time. You grab your stun blaster and shoot him as extra assurance. You really did not want this to repeat again. Hopefully he never wakes up with a memory of what I just did...

“Now stay down,” you mutter to a knocked out Bane, cradling your now injured hand. You have no idea how Wrecker ever does this because wow your hand is killing you.

You have to say, you’re pretty proud of yourself for being able to render him unconscious not once, but two times. You wish you could tell Anakin–the thought saddens you. He’s probably dead too.

With that vividly cheery thought, you stagger back from the ramp in exhaustion, weary from the sudden surge of the Force still ebbing and coursing through your body.

None of the Bad Batch knew you used to be a Jedi–not even Hunter. It was something only a few of your closest Jedi friends and the Jedi Council knew about.

But after what happened today, with Rex helping your squadmates get their inhibitor chips out, with you finally letting the Force in… maybe it is time to tell them. The secrecy wouldn’t be needed anymore now that you were sure you were safe around your friends. But clearly, the universe wanted to throw a nasty vibroblade in your plans by knocking Hunter and Omega unconscious and having the best kriffing bounty hunter in the galaxy be hot on your heels.

You take a few seconds to get your breath back and regain your mental energy. You aren’t out of the woods yet. You run inside Bane’s ship to grab the crate of medical supplies before sprinting back out towards Hunter and Omega.

You lean down and pat Omega’s cheek gently, trying to wake her up, but she’s out cold. Why is everyone around me unconscious? Frankly, you’re equally amused and terrified by the situation laid out in front of you.

You sigh, looking around to see if you can find some cover. There’s a giant sheet of durasteel to your left, big enough to act as a barrier in case trouble comes knocking. You bend down and pick Omega up before placing her down cautiously, leaning her small body against the metal. You repeat the action with the crate you found.

The third time proves to be much more difficult. Hunter certainly isn’t as muscular as Wrecker, but he sure as sithhell isn’t as light as Omega. You tap your foot nervously, trying to figure out a way for you to lift him. Yes, you could use the Force, but you don’t want to alert the other Force-sensitive on the planet. If they knew about your existence, it could put them in danger, and that was the last thing you wanted.

Giving up, you place your hands underneath Hunter’s armpits and effectively drag him all the way over, propping him up as you did Omega. You cringe at the sound of his armor grating the floor. There are sure to be dirty scuff marks on it now. Sorry Hunter.

Just as you’re about to sit down next to him, heaving deep breaths from the exertion, you pause. A warning is practically blaring in the Force and you tense, urgently trying to figure out the cause.

“Not again,” you mumble under your breath. You can’t handle any more action today. With Hunter and Omega both down, and your extreme fatigue from engaging in the Force, you don’t know how much of a fight you can put up. Not to mention you never trained as a soldier. There was a reason why you left the military planning strategies to the Bad Batch.

You hold your blaster close to your chest as you scan the environment. Bane is immobile and so is the dismantled techno-service droid. So what’s wrong?

Ten nerve-wracking seconds pass before you get your answer. Clone voices waft up to your hiding spot and you bite your cheek in frustration as your head continues to pound. Your headache still hasn’t stopped.

There is no way you can fight them all off, especially if Crosshair is with them. They are too far away for you to get a read on how many there are, and frankly, you’re much too scared to even peek around the durasteel to count.

One of Tech’s previous statements floats through your mind. About three attack shuttles worth.

You can feel your heart thumping wildly in your chest, blood rushing through your ears as anxiety ties your stomach into knots. I can’t do this, I can’t do this, Ican’tdothis.

You take deep breaths, doing your best to clear your mind and focus. You had to do this. There is no other option other than surrendering or dying. No, damnit, you would go down fighting until the Life Force left you.

You peer just past the edge of the metal to see at least twenty clones heading your way. Certainly not ideal, but you bide your time. If you started shooting now, you couldn’t use the element of surprise to your advantage and they would easily overwhelm you. But once they’re close enough, you hope you can at least take a couple out before having to resort to using the Force. It isn’t ideal, but it’s all you have.

Honestly, you don’t know if you could get out of this one alive, much less protect Hunter and Omega too. Maker help me.

It throws you off when they finally come into sight–you see how plain the clones’ armor looked without paint. You never really noticed it before since you were always running for your life in those circumstances. But now that you think about it, you are so used to seeing bright blue or green or yellow that the alabaster white just seems so… odd.

“Looks like a big fight happened here.”

“Yeah, tell me about it. All these men are dead.”

Now.

You whip your body around the metal and immediately begin shooting as fast as you can pull the trigger, trying to make every shot count. The troopers hesitate for just a moment, most likely due to their surprise of you being there. But that second is all you need.

You take out the three men closest to you before jumping back behind the metal as their barrage of fire rains down on you. You do your best to shoot back and manage to take out one more clone, but they’re beginning to gain too much ground too fast. I can do this. I have to do this.

As far as you can tell, Crosshair isn’t with the clones attacking you, but that doesn’t mean he hasn’t set up shop somewhere nearby, waiting to shoot you.

You shudder. It’s a chilling thought.

You grab one of your last detonators from your belt and hurl it as far as you can. The rapid beeping rises quickly in pitch before the charge explodes. Anguished cries reverberate throughout the area, and you briefly feel sorry for having to take such drastic measures as you feel their Force signatures dim swiftly. But you don’t have a choice.

Peeking around the corner, you count around eight to ten clones down. Not bad considering the circumstances.

You continue shooting as much as you can but now the troopers are much too close for comfort and you’re feeling overwhelmed. The durasteel you are using for cover isn’t meant to take this kind of damage, and the integrity of your shield is quickly waning as told by the constant creaks and groans. You don’t know what to do. Will we make it?

In your haste of shooting first and panicking later, you don’t notice Hunter groaning, finally waking up. And before you have time to even glance at him, the familiar hum of the Havoc Marauder and its lights shine down on you. Your sag in relief. Looks like Omega was able to comm them after all. Never before have you been so glad to see the beat-up hunk of junk. (You would never say that to Tech though–the Marauder is his baby, his pride and joy.)

Echo, Wrecker, and Tech all race off the ship, guns ablazing. Wrecker and Tech stand guard, serving as cover fire while Echo bends down to help you out.

“Hunter, wake up!” Echo hisses and smacks his helmet lightly. Hunter mumbles in pain as he starts to move, trying to look around as his HUD boots back up. Seriously? Now you wake up? you think sarcastically. But you’re much more relieved at the fact that he has actually woken up.

“What happened? Where’s Omega?” Wrecker bellows, worried.

“She’s right here, I’ve got her!” you shout back at the same time Echo says, “He was shot in the chest plate.”

You pocket your blaster and gather the young girl in your arms with every last bit of strength you have left. You aren’t strong enough to hold her in one arm and shoot with the other. That is much more up Wrecker’s alley.

“We have to get him on board!” Tech exclaims as he helps Echo support Hunter. You pick Omega up in both arms and bolt for the ship as fast as you can while yelling at Tech to grab the crate of supplies.

“Incoming!” Wrecker calls out as a fresh wave of troopers advance towards the six of you. You grunt as you deposit Omega in a chair near the controls before pulling out your blaster and helping Wrecker shoot down the men racing towards you.

“Got him. Tech, fly us out of here!” Echo commands while Wrecker makes a gesture for them to get on the ship faster. Hunter stumbles as he does his best to upright himself.

“Go go go!” Wrecker exclaims. Tech shoves the crate next to Omega’s seat and makes a beeline for the cockpit as you continue shooting, moving to the side to make space for Echo and Hunter to come on board. Wrecker quickly climbs in right after them and the ramp closes shut.

Tech immediately pilots the Havoc Marauder up and away from the scene. You vaguely hear the sound of blaster fire hitting the bottom of the ship while you drop your blaster on the ground and wrench Hunter’s helmet off in a panic. You take his face in your hands as you scan him quickly, trying to figure out if he’s hurt or not.

Hunter bats your hands away. “He... he took Omega,” he says and you shake your head. Wrecker pipes up from behind you to respond.

“Who? Crosshair?”

“The bounty hunter,” Hunter mutters as he rubs a hand over his face. Before Wrecker can answer again, you step in.

“No, he didn’t. I took him down. And no, he’s not dead,” you tack on quickly when you see Echo open his mouth. Echo shakes his head fondly and you just grin at him.

“She’s right here,” Echo says instead, pointing to Omega’s sleeping figure. Hunter turns in surprise to see that his brother is indeed telling the truth.

“How...?” Hunter’s voice trails off. Echo and Wrecker look at you expectantly, and Hunter follows suit. You sigh and take off your helmet, setting it down on the ledge next to the controls. You don’t look at them.

“It’s a long story.”

You don’t have a chance to elaborate any further because Tech walks in, interrupting the conversation.

“I’ve made the jump to hyperspace. There was a cruiser in the atmosphere, but I was able to quietly go past them by disguising our ship as a bounty hunter’s. They didn’t interfere. I put in the coordinates for Ord Mantell. I estimate our time of arrival to be five hours and thirty two minutes,” Tech reports and Hunter nods while you voice your thanks.

“Looks like we got time!” Wrecker says cheerily, pulling out an extra chair. Tech looks to you in confusion.

“Did I miss something significant?” Tech asks, concerned about the information he did not receive as he adjusts his goggles. You shake your head but now, all eyes are back on you.

“She was just about to tell us how she saved Omega,” Hunter supplies helpfully and Tech nods in understanding. He grabs a chair as well and sits down, interested in hearing what you have to say.

You look around the room, realizing you can’t get out of it. You are exhausted and just want to sleep but based on the looks you are getting from the boys, there is no way you can leave without giving a sufficient answer.

You sit down on a chair in between Omega and Echo and begin explaining.

“When the cone fell, it separated. I got knocked out when I hit the ground, but I don’t think I broke anything,” you quickly reassure as Tech grabs a datapad to scan your vitals.

“After I came to, I tried comming Echo, but my commlink was broken – I could only hear bits and pieces of what he said. There were some voices near me so I just followed them and–” you pause, not sure if you should tell them what happened. What you experienced, what you found out. “–I saw Hunter and Omega. The ledge I found was way too high for me to jump to, so I climbed up the side of the wreckage to see them and the bounty hunter facing off,” you say, choosing to leave the detail out. It was too personal. You still needed time.

All of them are listening intently, hanging on to every word you’re saying. Hunter’s gaze on you is heavy and loaded with questions. Tech is still tapping away on the datapad, but you know you have his full attention. Multitasking may not be possible for regular humans, but it definitely was for Tech.

“When I saw the bounty hunter, I knew Hunter wasn’t going to win,” you mumble sheepishly, rubbing the back of your neck. Hunter winces at your statement and you rush to explain why.

“Hunter, you have to trust that I genuinely don’t doubt your abilities. You are much more of a soldier than I will ever be. But this bounty hunter is one of the best, if not the best in the entire galaxy. He’s gone against the Jedi, and won. Based on what Anakin told me at the beginning of the war, Cad Bane is ruthless. He tortured Master Ropal and killed him. Believe it or not, I think he tried to abduct Chancellor Palpatine. Even Anakin had a difficult time fighting him.”

A tense quiet settles over you all as you mentally revisit your conversation with Anakin, and later with Ahsoka. She told you how it was one of the first times she was genuinely afraid that she was going to die, or at least get hurt very severely.

Echo’s rough voice shakes you out of your reverie. “How do–did you know General Skywalker?” he asks, clearly confused at how you referred to him on a first-name basis. You mentally facepalm yourself. How did I forget he served as part of the 501st? You feel incredibly stupid.

You could make up a lie, of course, but it wouldn’t be worth it. Hunter’s enhanced senses and Tech’s vitals scan could probably pick up on your biological signs, not to mention you would feel terribly guilty about not being honest. I promised myself I would tell them…

You blow out a nervous breath, deciding to at least give them something. They deserved that much.

“I’m–well, I was a Jedi,” you admit, staring down at your feet. You can’t bring yourself to look at them, feeling almost… ashamed.

The boys are shocked into silence and you cringe. There was probably a much better way for you to say that, but now it was out there. Yet the pressure that had been weighing down on you since you let the Force back in didn’t lessen.

“What?” Wrecker questions, thrown completely for a loop. “You’re a Jedi?”

Before you can answer, Tech pipes up. “When I reviewed your medical data, there was no note about an elevated midi-chlorian count or any sort of connection to the Force. Additionally, there is no documentation of you serving as a General or a Commander during the war in the Republic military records. How were you a Jedi? And why aren’t you one now? You used past tense in your sentence,” Tech adjusts his goggles as he attempts to register this new information that conflicted with his previous knowledge.

You sigh, drumming your fingers on your thigh. “I left the Jedi Order before the war ended. I promise I’ll explain everything in detail later, but for now, you have to understand that I’m just a Force-user. I trained as a Jedi, but I’m not a Jedi, not anymore,” you clarify, lifting your head up to make eye contact with each of them.

“Aw man, that’s so cool. You have to show us your cool mind tricks sometime!” Wrecker smiles and you agree to his request. It warms your heart to see him so excited.

“It makes sense. You must have seen the regs turn on the Jedi but didn’t know why. When you started traveling with us, you didn’t know if we would turn on you too, even though we’re not regs,” Hunter realizes, and you nod in affirmation. You’re secretly relieved by the fact that he doesn’t seem angry, just… just thoughtful.

“And then when I saw what happened to Crosshair, I knew I couldn’t risk ever telling any of you. But when Rex told us about the chips…” you trail off.

Echo picks up your sentence quickly. “You figured out you would be safe with us if we got our chips removed. No wonder you were so insistent on following what Rex said.”

You smile at the last part, a bit embarrassed. He wasn’t wrong. You were probably even more insistent than Rex was on telling them to get their inhibitor chips out. Better to be safe than sorry you told them. Though at the time, you hadn’t even thought about how removing their chips would impact you and your abilities. You were too focused on keeping the Force out of your body to entertain that thought.

Wrecker suddenly gets up and gathers you in a bone-crushing hug. “Well you don’t have to worry now! We got those stupid chips out of our heads, which means I promise we won’t kill you!” he says cheerfully and you can’t help but laugh as you hug him back, the knot in your chest beginning to unravel. You could always count on Wrecker’s wonderfully big heart to raise your spirits.

“You’re right, big guy. It’s honestly a relief. One less thing I have to worry about.”

Wrecker lets go of you and you pick up where you left off. “As I was saying, Cad Bane isn’t a bounty hunter we can take lightly. Crosshair helped me re-engineer my blaster to turn it into a pseudo sniper with attachable parts during the war. Because I was so high up, I could get a clear shot of Bane. From that vantage point, I shot him at the same time Hunter and Bane shot each other.”

Echo’s mouth drops open. “Damn.”

“What I didn’t expect was for Hunter to be rendered completely unconscious. So I told Omega to try to comm you guys while I went on Bane’s ship to see if I could find anything. And I did.” You pull off your backpack and dump out the contents. Bags of credits come tumbling out. You unhook the few bags on your belt and toss them into the pile.

“Bane had a secret compartment with a lot of credits. So I took them and that crate I yelled at Tech to get,” you explain as you reach into the bag to show off the Imperial credits.

Tech’s eyes widen as he lifts up a bag to inspect it. “I will have to calculate how much you took and mark it in the inventory, but based on my initial deduction, this may be enough for us to upgrade the Marauder and provide sustenance for at least a few months.”

“Nice one!” Wrecker compliments and you grin in response. “What’s in the crate?” he asks, walking over to lift up the top.

“Medical supplies. We barely had any left so I figured I might as well take that too,” you shrug as Hunter gets up to join Wrecker to peer at the contents.

“What happened after that? You said you told Omega to comm the others, which means she was awake. Did she get hurt while I was out? Is that why you look so exhausted?” Hunter inquires, astute as ever.

You bite your lower lip. “When I was getting off his ship with the goods, he had woken up again. Before I could do anything, he stunned Omega and then immediately shot at me,” you pause, wondering if you should elaborate on how you got out of the situation. You decide to come clean on this part.

“I… I don’t know how, but I was able to stop the blaster bolts and keep them – and Bane – in stasis with the Force. The problem was that it took a lot out of me. After not really using the Force for so long, my energy reserves were pretty much gone,” you sigh, absentmindedly rubbing your arms. Your muscles are still sore from the event.

“After that, I punched him and knocked him out again. I dragged you and Omega away from the ship so that I could protect you, and I ended up using that giant piece of durasteel as cover to fight off those clones. Then you guys came and rescued us and that’s that,” you finish, suddenly fatigued from the conversation. You slump back into your chair, perfect posture be damned.

“Wow,” is all Echo says, surprised by your strength. It took some serious stamina to be able to withstand so much for so long. Echo remembered seeing Commander Tano and General Skywalker be exhausted after some especially intense missions where they constantly had to use the Force.

“Yeah,” you mutter, massaging your dominant hand. It is still throbbing from the mean hook you threw at Bane. You don’t have any regrets. You glance at Omega’s sleeping figure and soften. The things I would do for this girl.

“Looks like I taught you well!” Wrecker laughs and you smile. When you first met the Bad Batch, Wrecker took it upon himself to teach you basic self-defense and how to overtake an opponent intelligently. Even though you already learned how to fight as part of your Jedi and military training, you couldn’t say no to him when he looked so excited. But it paid off because he’s right. Wrecker did teach you well.

“You did. You basically saved my ass out there with your amazing teaching skills,” you chuckle, glancing down at your hand. You think you’ll probably have to cover it in bacta gel to speed up the healing process before having yet another realization. (You seem to be having a lot of those today.)

I can just Force-heal. Before, you couldn’t Force-heal because it would look suspicious if something healed too fast. But now that they know, you don’t have to solely depend on medical supplies anymore.

Tech, as always, is right on cue. “Is your hand alright? For you to render Bane unconscious must have been no easy feat. Not to mention that according to the medscan I just took, you have a mild concussion, most likely due to your fall. I can run a medical diagnostic test to start and then run more specific tests to combat your pain...” Tech mutters the last part to himself, brain running light years faster than his mouth as his fingers fly over the datapad.

You debate it for a moment before nodding. “That would be great, Tech–thanks. But right now, I’m exhausted, so I’m going to go and crash in my bunk. Wake me up if I need to punch someone again,” you joke before shuffling away from your squadmates. You ruffle Omega’s hair affectionately as you pass by her and pick up your blaster from the ground before climbing down the ladder. You don’t notice Hunter’s troubled gaze or how his Force signature sours a bit as you leave.

You quickly clean up and throw on some bacta patches on a few nasty bruises. You sit down on your bed and pull the privacy curtain before deciding to open up your secret compartment next to your mattress. You stare down at the objects, the only things you have left as a reminder of the past. You reach down for one of them, about to touch it when you stop.

You shake your head and shut the drawer. Deciding to finally, finally hit the hay, you’re out like a light as soon as your head hits the pillow. Dealing with the Force and healing yourself could be done later. Not even your constant pain and crippling worry about your family friends could keep you up any longer.

please consider reblogging! it really helps me and is super encouraging ^_^

[xmalereader]

Thomas Shelby X Male Reader X Din Djarin

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|| Masterlist ||

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This crossover will take place during the Star Wars universe! I tried to do a modern version but nothing came to mind so this’ll be my first Star Wars crossover with the peaky blinders, hopefully you like it! I tried my best. ｡ﾟ(ﾟ´ω`ﾟ)ﾟ｡

Requested: Is it ok if I simply ask for something with Din Djarin and Tommy Shelby? I want something with them but my brain isn't helping me with coming up with specifics for the fic :(

Warnings: crossover, language, violence, slight smut, mando’a language, Thomas is a dealer, din is manda’lore, darksaber is used, mentions of Bo-Katan, Grogu is with din.

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@ge-m31

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All of the townspeople were running to their homes, spreading the word that the ‘Shelbys’ have arrived. Everyone in town was running to hide from the dangerous man that ruled the place, claimed it as his own. He showed power just by crossing anyone’s path, not one dared to go up against the shelby family. Especially not their leader or else they will deal with the consequences. As the women ushered their children inside and made sure to lock their doors as the others hid behind homes or boxes as they watched a single man riding a Varactyl down the trail, passing by homes and markets. He would glance to his left and right every once an while, eyeing the people that lived there.

He pulled the Varctly to a halt causing the creature to huff softly and shake its head, looking around as the man turns towards one of the markets. Gently he hops off the creature and makes his way towards the small market that was selling gems and stones. He stands infront of the table and knocks on the woods, from underneath emerged a young women, letting out a nervous sigh as she avoids the mans eyes. “What can I do for you today Mr. Shelby?” She stutters out, gripping her gown softly. The man stands tall and watches her closely as he pulls out a puck from his pocket and sets it in front of her. “I have a bounty that needs to be caught for me and I am looking for someone that can help me.”

The women looks down at the puck and bites her lip. “I don’t know of any bounty hunter that can help.” She whispers out. The town watched in silence as the man reaches to take the puck back. “But I know who can help!” She is quick to blurt out. Thomas hand hovers over the puck. “Who?”

She bites her lip. “A Mandalorian passed by here a few days back, he was looking for a job—no one was able to give him any but if you need him than you can find him in woods. His ship is their and he isn’t alone.” She explains to him.

Thomas takes the puck and nods at her. “A Mandalorian, strongest warriors in the galaxy.” He says to himself as he heads back to his Varactly, riding the creature out of town and towards home.

—

“I don’t understand why we are here when we should be back on Mandalore, Bo-Katan is not going to be happy once she finds out that you left.” Said Y/n as he carries around a basket full of different kinds of fruits towards the Crest.

Din rolls his eyes under the helmet as he goes back to fixing the engines. “I may be the ruler of Mandalore but I also have my own freedom. I Can decided on what to do and like Bo-Katan said, when the time is right she’ll battle me for the Darksaber and she can become the new ruler.” He reminds his Riduur.

Grogu was sitting inside the basket as he listens to both of his parents converse with eachother, his head tilting back to look up at y/n who can only groan in frustration. They have been stuck on this god forsaken planet for a few days now, the crest had broken down and they have been trying to repair it but due to the ship being very old, it was sometimes hard to fix.

“Giving her the darksaber isn’t a good idea, you saw the look on her face when she first found out—anger is what I saw.” He sets the basket down and takes the kid out, setting him on the grass for him to play with. “Bo-katan wants power and we both know that letting her take the darksaber isnt the right choice.” He was looking down at the Mandalorian.

Din knew that y/n was right, right about Bo-Katan only wanting the power that wielded the Darksaber but, he never cared about power. He was a simple Mandalorian finding his way through the galaxy, he can easily get rid of the Darksaber but something deep down inside of him was telling him to keep it and To properly rule Mandalore. He couldn’t allow her to win it from him.

“I hate that you can be right sometimes.” Said Din.

Y/n grins at the man. “See? Always listen to your Riduur.” He nudges his shoulder and turns his attention back to the kid who was trying to eat the grass. “Hey! No, don’t eat that!” Y/n bends down to pull the grass out of the kids mouth.

Din chuckles at the sight and goes back to working on the crest, double checking the engines and making sure to fix up the damage that was caused by the trees and creatures that they had to fight off. It has been a rough couple of a days but nothing they can’t handle.

As he puts his tools away he hears rustling in the trees, by instinct he pulls out his blaster and looks over to the trees. Not spitting anything he walks over to y/n and Grogu. “Someone’s here.” He says, catching the others attention as he holds Grogu in his arms and stands next to Din. Holding out his own blaster too as the kid glares into the distance.

The three hold their guard up. “Come out or else will shoot.” Says y/n, giving off a warning to whoever was here.

Some more rustling his heard as a young boy comes out, holding his hands up in surrender. “Don’t shoot, I didn’t come to cause any harm.” He says, giving the two a look. Y/n eyes the boy, he looked young and unarmed but that didn’t cause him to drop his guard.

“What do you want? Asked Din.

The boy lowers his hands and licks his lips. “My name is Finn Shelby, my family owns the town here and we were looking for someone who can help us.” Din narrows his eyes at the boy. “Whatever help you need can be done without us.” He says coldly.

Finn glares. “My brother sent me here to offer you a job, we have been told that mandalorians are the strongest warriors and we need you to hunt down someone for us.”

Din huffs and puts his blaster away. “No, thanks.” With that he heads up the razor crest. Y/n lowers his blaster and holds Grogu close, nodding towards Finn. “Tell your brother that he can hire someone else.”

“We’ve already tried!” Finn exclaims in frustration.

Y/n rolls his eyes. “Let me guess, no one accept the deal?” He says sarcastically.

“No.” Said Finn. “They’ve accepted the job but no one ever comes back.” This catches y/n attention. It wasn’t the first time that they’ve had an issue like this before, they’ve faced many dangerous jobs. Hell, they were able to survive Dark troopers!

Y/n looks at the kid up and down before pointing at him. “Stay right there.” He demands as he heads towards the crest, entering the haul he sets Grogu down and approaches Din. “Don’t tell me you spoke to the kid.” Said Din before he could even say anything to him.

Y/n chuckles nervously. “Okay but listen—the kid says that they have sent people out there and no one comes back meaning that whoever goes out their dies.” He states. “Also, we need the credits! We don’t have enough fuel to last us for the next couple of days and our rations are running low.” He walks over to Din, standing next to him as he watches the Mandalorian polish his blaster. “Din, we need the credits and it’ll be quick.” He says again.

The Mandalorian sighs deeply and looks up at his lover, giving him a glare from underneath the helmet before saying. “Alright, but if we are going to accept this job than you must listen to my instruction, do you understand?” Y/n nods quickly, “yes!” Y/n is quick to run back outside to confirm Finn that they’ll take the job.

—

They walk all the way back to town with the child inside it’s pod and protected, Finn had walked the entire time, not having a ride with him since he would rather walk.

Din on the other hand wasn’t too fond of walking, he liked traveling fast and being able to finish his job quick. But for now, he accepted the option to walk to their destination. It took a few hours before they arrived to town, the people were doing their daily business, selling parts and trying to strike up deals with other shoppers.

Y/n can’t help but look around, it was strange seeing such a lively town. I mean, Nevaroo is the same since Greef was able to make some changes with the place and finally bring peace but this town was somehow different. It felt different.

Finn guides them through the town, going through alleyways and far away from the city now into an open with long grass everywhere. Y/n was the first to notice the Varactyl causing him to halt in his steps. “It’s a Varactyl.” He breaths out with a small smile. He hasn’t seen one in years, thinking that they have gone extinct.

“Family rasies them.” Said Finn with a grin on his face. “Don’t worry, he won’t bite. He’s too entertained with the grass, keeps them happy.” He added and continues to guide the three down a path that lead them towards a large house. “This looks like a fortress to me.” Din mutters out, glancing over his shoulder to see y/n give him a shrug. “Like I said, this family could be rich.” He reminds him.

He steps ahead of Din, following Finn closely as the other pulls the doors open and allows them inside. “I suggest you leave your weapons here.”

“That’s not happening.” Said Din with a glare.

Y/n agrees with him. “We won’t leave our weapons here, not when we are in an unknown home.” He crossed his arms over his chest as Finn shrugs. “Very well, you’ll face the wrath of my brother.” He simple says as he leaves the two on their own—fetching his brother.

Y/n looks around the house and stands close to Din. “Have an escape plan in case things go sideways?” He whispers. Din nods his head once, “I always do and in case things go bad you make sure to take the kid.” Grogu was their first priority and right now they can’t risk losing the kid.

As the two wait by the entrance they notice spot Finn coming back but he wasn’t alone this time. Behind him followed an older man, he wore black clothing—almost making him look like a general that belonged with the empire. He held his head up high as he approaches the two, standing in front of them.

“It’s nice to know that Finn was able to get you two back here safely.” He says with a small smirk. Y/n narrows his eyes at the man, taking a step forward as he examines his face. Taking in the mans features as his eyes slowly widen in realization. “Tommy?” He blurts out. Catching the mans attention who eyed him in return, looking at him up and down before he too came to realization. “Well, well, if it isn’t My favorites womp rat.” He chuckles out as y/n laughs in return and rushed over to hug the man.

Din can only watch the two men in confusion, having no idea what was going on. “You know him?” Din asks, pointing over to Thomas.

Y/n pulls away from Thomas and nods at Din. “Old friend, we go way back.” He answers. Looking at Thomas with a wide smile, “Maker, you haven’t changed one bit.” He says.

Thomas grins. “I can say the same for you, it was hard to tell who you were since back then you used to wear a mask over your face. I couldn’t quiet tell who you were.” The two have known eachother for a very long time, y/n remembered working with the Shelby family at a young age before he left the family. He wanted to start his own path and left the Shelby family behind, forgetting them since he no longer needed their help. But, he and Tommy had grown close over the years—from becoming friends to lovers and soon after he had to leave Thomas behind.

“It all makes sense now, the Varactyl, the job and Finn Shelby—Maker he was only a kid when I last saw him.”

“He still is.” Said Thomas.

Y/n smiles at Thomas with a small blush on his cheeks before a cough brings him back to reality. Turning around to see Din with his hands on his hips, giving him the sass stance. Y/n clears his throat and nods. “Right—! We came because Finn told us that you needed help.”

Thomas nods. “Right, follow me.” He guides the three towards a separate room, approaching his large desk he pulls out the puck from his pocket. “A few years back I got myself involved with some problems—“ he sets the puck down and a picture of a women shows up. “Her name is Grace, she has become a spy in my town and has been watching my family closely. She’s been sending information about us to the republic and they have been wanting to toss us into prison for a very long time.” He explains.

The Mandalorian approaches the desk and looks down at the puck, taking in the information. “You said many others have taken the job but none returned, why?” Thomas gives off a small frown. “She’s smart and has her own ways to survive.” He states back. “But with a Mandalorian chasing after her, I bet she’ll give up in an instant—heard mandalorians are the strongest warriors in the galaxy.”

Thomas and Din both stare at eachother, the tension was strong between them that it was hard for y/n to break it. So, instead he placed a hand on Dins chest and gently pulls him away. “How much?” Asked Din, wanting to know how much they will get paid in order to capture the women and bring her back alive.

Thomas puts his hands behind his back as he gives the couple a price, causing y/n’s eyes to widen in shock. The amount of credits that will be given to them can last them for two years, enough for rations and for the foundlings that Mandalore is soon to claim.

“You really must be desperate.” Y/n breaths out.

Thomas hums. “Very, she contains valuable information that cannot be passed down to the republic.” He licks his lips and looks at the two, “so, will you accept the job?”

Din grabs y/n but the shirt collar, “Give us a minute.” He says as he drags him away towards a corner of the house, leaving grogu behind with Thomas. Grogu stares at Thomas and gives him a small glare. “Hello.” Says Thomas to the child who rolls his eyes and closes his pod, ignoring the man.

“What was that?” Asked Din, pulling y/n aside as he glares under his helmet. “what was what?”

“That look—I know you two were more than just friends.” He says, a hint of jealousy in his voice as y/n grins at the Mandalorian. “okay, we used to be together but that was a long time ago. Din, I am married to you, we have a kid together.” He whispers to the Mandalorian. “Also you’re Mand’alore and if Thomas ever tries something then we know that he will have to face the wrath of the king.” He teases out, trying to lighten up the mood a little bit, but of course, it wasn’t working. Huffing softly he places a hand on Din’s chest plate. “Nothing will happen, I trust you and I love you very much.” Din sighs deeply as he leans down to press his helmet against y/n’s forehead. “I’m sorry.” He says, gripping his hand softly. “its okay.” Said Y/n with a small smile.

“I’ll take the job, only because we need the credits—but you and grogu will stay behind. I can’t risk losing you and two.” Said Din after pulling away from his riduur.

Y/n holds Din’s hand as he nods along the explanation. “Okay, will stay here until you get back.” He knows that he can’t argue with him already knowing that he would lose the argument and be forced to stay behind with the kid. He knows that the bounty will take a few days but he didn’t mind, as long as he get back safe and alive.

Before Y/n can go tell Thomas about their agreement he is pulled back again, this time—Din wraps his hand around his wrist, pulling him forward as he places the darksaber in his hand. “Din—“

“Keep it.”

“Din, I can’t take this from you.”

“You aren’t taking it from you, I’m letting you barrow it. You’ll need protection and I trust you with it.” The Mandalorian lets go of his wrist as he holds the darksaber in his hands. “But the rules—“

“Fuck the rules.” Said Din. “I know that I am the only one to wield the darksaber but I trust you with it.” He bumps his head against y/n’s once more. “Use it to protect yourself and the kid in case anything bad happens, got it?” He questions, earning a nod in return. “Got it.” With that, Din lets go of him and walks back to Thomas who was leaning against his desk, hands in his pockets.

“Will take the job, but Y/n and the kid stay back in case things don’t go as planned.” Thomas smirks. “Very well.” He pushes himself off the desk and hands Din the puck and a tracking fob. “I have a room full of weapons in case you need something.” He offers as Din takes the fob and puck, putting them in his pockets and shaking his head, “With what I have will work.” Thomas nods at the Mandalorian and turns to look at Y/n.

“Looks like I’ll be in your care for the meantime.” Y/n walks over to the kids pod and opens it up, revealing the child who was playing with his favorite silver ball. Smiling he reaches down and picks him up, holding him in his arms as the kids ears move up and down every once an while as he looks around the room, taking in the decor. “Hope you don’t mind the kid destroying some things.”

Thomas chuckles at y/n. “I don’t think he likes me very much.” He points out which causes Din to laugh a bit.

This catches their attention, y/n smiles at the Mandalorian and approaches him. “be safe.” He says again. Grogu coos at his buir and with his tiny hand he reaches up and places it against the side of the helmet, giving it a small stroke as he too worries for his fathers safety. “Ill be okay kid, you take care of Y/n while I’m gone.” Grogu gives Din a stern look and nod, determained to keep his own family safe. As they say their goodbyes they watches Din rid off with one of Thomas’ Varctly.

“You look happier than usual.” He hears Thomas say, standing next to him as they watch Din disappear into the woods. Y/n sighs, “Being married to a king has its perks.” He responds back and turns his attention to the kid, playing with his ears as he heads back inside.

Thomas stands there for a few seconds before it hits him. “wait—KING!?”

[accio-victuuri]

The Number 37.

I’ve been seeing this for awhile and it came up again so I think it’s time to look at what this is all about. This is galaxy brain CPN again. 🌌

Patrick do you know what love is?

Just a loaf of bread, three tenths for me, seven tenths for you

( yes this is from spongebob, which is a show they love and popped up in a fake rumor. )

What is the meaning of 37?

• In Kadian it can be interpreted as zhan-wife ( other half )

• “37-degree love”, it is neither cold nor hot.There is no painful anticipation in the night, and there is no loneliness. Waiting indifferently; without the madness and delusion. The person who brings 37 degrees of love, he must love himself. ( sounds familiar )

• A 37-degree man refers to being knowledgeable in life. A man who works hard in social competition. This kind of men have peace, a firm goal in life, and strive to finish everything. ( again, sounds like some we all know. lol. )

The following are examples of when 37 appeared.

• This CPN is mostly because they have used this number to timestamp a couple of times. But, used a couple of times both by Yibo and YBO. It’s such an unusual time to post something. Were they shooting for 30 or 35? However, there are lots of examples that land in 37.

• In that BRTV show, he had the 7 number on. We would implode if he used 8. Did he choose it? This number is something that he would not usually use. Maybe it was the only available jersey left? Who knows? 💀

• We love Budweiser around here and it’s such a coincidence that GG is endorsing their line that has 3 and 7 on it. It’s just the universe working it’s Magic.

sources:

https://m.weibo.cn/status/4553057394497431?

https://m.weibo.cn/status/4603558312286446?

[tlcwrites]

By A Nose

Submission for Writer Wednesday 5/12

Summary: If you're going to talk the talk, you better be able to walk the walk. Or, proof Poe Dameron is a terrible loser.

Word Count: 1528

Tags/Warnings: Poe Dameron x Reader, Modern AU. Implied smut but mostly in passing. Some bad words. Poorly edited because as usual I finished this at like 11 and my kids get up at 5 so I need to go to sleep.

Author’s Note: THREE FICS IN A WEEK WHO AM I?

Okay, so I cannot be the only one who saw the photo for this week's Writer Wednesday (thank you once more for hosting, @autumnleaves1991-blog!) and went the direction I did. If I am the only one, well, just further proof my brain is certifiable. Make sure you comment on when you figure out where this fic takes place.

There will also be an accompanying headcanon coming for this probably tomorrow, because there was SO much material I wanted to use but couldn't make fit. Thank you @paper-n-ashes for brainstorming with me and being the best hype-woman ever.

“AAAAHHHHH.”

“WE’RE GONNA DIE.”

“WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT?!”

“FINN!!” You smack him. “There are small children here!”

But he’s too busy screaming to pay attention.

On the other side of you, Kaydel looks decidedly green. She lets out a pained moan as your vehicle makes a particularly hard turn. “I’ve got a bad feeling about this…”

You pat her knee as you fly through a kitchy town. “Hang in there, honey. It’s almost over.”

The village elder’s well wishes still ringing in your ears, you pull up next to another idling transport. From the driver’s seat, your boyfriend winks at you.

“You’re going down, Dameron!” you holler at him.

He makes the universal ‘I’m watching you’ gesture. “Eat my dust, losers!”

Finn yells back something that has you smacking him again, shooting an apologetic glance to the second row of Poe’s transport, where Snap and Karé are sitting with their daughter Nora. Snap’s hands fly to cover Nora’s ears while Karé laughs heartily.

Next to Poe, Rey holds her thumb and forefinger up to her forehead in an ‘L’ shape. “Second place is the first to lose!”

Before any more trash talking can occur, you see a flash of red out of the corner of your eye and then both vehicles take off, bursting out of the dark into blinding sunlight.

You both fly over the rusty terrain, neck and neck as you navigate under rocky overpasses and around hairpin turns. From the second row of your car, you can hear Maz lobbing profanities at Chewie in the other ride. He’s yelling back in his native tongue (which you still only understand half of). Beside Maz, Leia and Han are both laughing like kids.

A shriek of joy erupts from you as you fly over a series of hills, the momentary weightlessness thrilling. Finn has both hands in the air, while Kaydel grips the safety handle with white knuckles.

Finally, you come out of a turn to see a sharp drop. You look to Poe, who grins back at you, his vehicle slightly ahead of yours. Damnit, you HATE losing to him. He’s the worst winner.

At the last moment, your ride leaps ahead, crossing under the checkered banner by a nose. The passengers of your car cheer and high-five in victory, while Poe’s passengers groan in good-natured defeat.

As you roll through the red-lit cavern, you laugh as you catch sight of Poe’s face. He’s a terrible winner, but he’s an even worse loser. Even if his loss comes at the hands of an algorithm.

Anthropomorphic cars wave you off as both vehicles enter the unloading zone. On the other side of the platform, Chewie is lifting Rey out of the front seat as she pretends to collapse in agonized failure, her laughter completely destroying the illusion. You accept Finn’s hand as he helps you up, both of you turning to support Kaydel as she crawls out of the car.

A ride attendant watches her warily. “Does she need assistance?” he asks Han.

Han waves him off, wrapping an arm around his wife’s shoulders as Maz and Chewie beeline for the ride photos. “She’ll be fine. No protein spills here.” At the cast member’s astonished look, the charming rogue gives his trademark grin. “Ain’t my first rodeo, kid.” As he and Leia stroll past you towards the exit, he catches your eye and winks. “That, and they haven’t changed the lingo since the 70’s.”

Laughing, you rub Kaydel’s back as Rey swaps places with Finn and helps bracket your green-tinged friend. “Let’s get you some water, yeah?”

Kaydel manages a slight nod, and the three of you make your way towards the exit.

Behind you, you can hear Poe and Finn bickering, as they’re wont to do.

“It’s a ride, dude,” Finn is saying, the exasperation clear in his tone.

“It’s physics, dude,” Poe shoots back. “There’s NO way the car on the outside of the turn would be able to finish first.”

Worst. Loser. Ever.

Your rag-tag alliance eventually makes it out of the exit tunnel. Ben’s waiting across the walkway, those ridiculously long arms crossed over his chest as he leans against the guard rail and steadily ignores whatever Armitage is ranting about.

On the bench next to them, Rose perks up, a smirk crossing her pretty face as she sees Poe’s expression. “Well, I don’t need to ask who won.”

“Don’t wanna talk about it,” the most-competitive-pilot-in-the-galaxy grumbles back, adjusting his backpack. You help Kaydel to a bench, where she quickly curls up.

Rey rolls her eyes as she forces her way into the circle of Ben’s arms. “It’s not like any of us could have actually controlled the outcome, you noodle.”

“Not without some kind of magic,” Ben intones dryly, resting his chin on his girlfriend’s head.

“How cool would that be, though?” Rey’s getting her Down-The-Wormhole-We-Go eyes. You and Rose exchange a Look™️ as she starts gesturing wildly with her hands. “Like, imagine if you could just look at something like rocks and, like, make them fly. Or make someone do whatever you wanted them to do. OH!” She looks up at Ben with a slightly manic expression. “Lightning bolts from your fingers!!”

Well-used to these kinds of rambles, Ben gently captures her hands and wraps her into a hug that doubles as a straight jacket. “No more SyFy channel before bed.”

Rose slides her arms around her husband as Finn joins her on the bench. “Did you behave?”

Nora, in all her 6-year-old innocence, giggles. “Mr Finn said a whole lot of swear-jar words.” She casts a critical eye on the young man. “You probably said enough you could buy an Elsa doll.” The ‘for me’ is unsaid, but implied.

Karé rapidly turns her laugh into a cough.

Finn glances down at his wife as Rose smacks him upside the head. “Hey! That tractor thing is terrifying. And Maz said WAY more than I did!”

“Age before beauty, Finnigan,” Maz says haughtily, waving off Finn’s ‘m'name’s not Finnigan, damn it’.

Giggling, you tune out the ridiculousness that is your found family and turn your attention to your still-sulking boy toy. “You know,” you murmur, wrapping your arms around his waist, “you make that face for long enough and it’ll stick that way.”

He huffs. “This is just how my face looks.”

“Uh huh.” Considering yourself quite the expert in his face, having spent countless hours studying every crease and line until you could have drawn him blindfolded, you call bullshit, but say nothing further.

“It is,” he insists.

“Okay,” you agree.

The King of Sarcasm narrows his eyes. “You’re doing that thing.”

You widen your eyes innocently. “What thing?”

“That thing where it sounds like you’re agreeing with me but you’re really telling me I’m a dumbass.”

“What?!” You bring your hand to your chest. “Moi?! I would never.”

He huffs again, but you can see the hint of a smirk starting to break though.

“C’mon, First Runner Up,” you tease. “No sulking in Disneyland. Let me buy you a drink at Trader Sam’s, and then we can sneak off to the Haunted Mansion and make out like teenagers in our Doom Buggy.”

He tilts his head, considering it.

“Or-“ You brush an inky curl off his forehead and stand on your toes until your lips are just about caressing his ear and whisper, “-we could get back in line right now and go again.”

Even before you’ve finished speaking, Poe’s grabbing your hand and hauling you back towards the entrance, tossing a “See you jerks later!” as he pulls you under the Radiator Springs Racers sign. Their laughter echos behind you as he leads the way through the mostly empty line (thank goodness for parade lulls).

As you wait in the queue, only a few dozen people stand between Poe and his (re)shot at victory. You see that competitive gleam in his eyes start to come alive again.

“Hey.” You tug on his tee shirt until he looks at you. “If our car doesn’t win, tonight I’ll do That Thing you love.”

“Babe.” The look he gives you is one of pure torture. “You are killing me here.” He really loves to win. But he really, really loves That Thing. “What about when we come in first?”

You shrug demurely. “Then you wear Those Pants™️ tomorrow.”

Hm. Poe’s always been quick to calculate his odds, and this is quickly turning into a win/win situation. If you lose, he gets That Thing. But Those Pants™️ turn you about feral, and when you’re in that kind of mood- let’s just say Poe still has the scars on his shoulders to prove it.

“Are those terms acceptable, Flight Commander Dameron?” You smile sweetly up at him.

His licentious grin says it all. “Hell yeah.”

For the record, your car does lose a second time. And the next morning, Poe hardly has Those Pants over his ass when you’re ripping them back down his legs and shoving him backwards onto the bed.

Oh, yeah, he thinks to himself. This is better than any dumb kid��s ride.

…doesn’t mean he’s not going to ride it as many times as it takes to win.

A/N: I almost titled this “Tell me you have children without saying you have children”. I am so fucking sick of ‘Lining McQueen’. Yay 4-year-olds.

Thank you for reading; likes and reblogs feed my soul.

[kylorengarbagedump]

Defy Your Authority: Chapter 4

Read on AO3. Part 3 here. Part 5 here.

Summary: David Rose voice: Oh, my god!

Words: 3200

Warnings: dude

Characters: Kylo Ren x Reader

A/N: First: Thank you to @bastila-ren and @elmidol for their beta-kindness.

I'M ALIVE. I got super burned out at my job, took 5 weeks of FMLA, got incredibly depressed, but now I'm back! Very thankfully, my COVID symptoms were extremely mild. Thank you very very much for your well-wishes and your concerns.

I wish I could express enough apology for my lack of activity, but hopefully uploading a chapter is thanks enough. You all have been so supportive and kind to me. I am SO thankful and appreciative of everything y'all offer me!

(as a side note: I know some people do not like dude, that it throws them out. I am very sorry, but in the politest way possible: I am not going to stop using it. I like it too much.)

I also hope you enjoyed the chapter! God I wonder what's going to happen next chapter. I just don't know.

Love you all so much <3

“Piece of shit.”

Growling, you tugged out another panel from the silencer’s dash. At this point, about a dozen slats of buttons boxed you into the pilot’s seat, crowding you in the cockpit. All of them looked flawless upon inspection, and this new one was no exception. Wires were attached and the circuits were complete, every switch was grounded. You’d gone over a handful of systems already, trapped in this cockpit for hours. The silencer’s refusal to function made no sense. There had to be something you were missing. 

The memory of smoke and flames licked at the perimeter of your mind. Yeah, there was a lot you were missing.

Pain burrowed, opened a well in your chest, and you shook your head, rubbing your tired face. There wasn’t time to think about anything else. Sitting forward, you started reattaching the panels to the console. You needed to focus on this.  Even though the answer to where you’d go and what you would do once you were finished remained nebulous. Even though you were now apparently unknown and unloved by almost everyone in the universe, including the one man you’d waited on for months. 

You caught a sigh in your chest, exhaling into your palms, shutting out the urge to cry. Crying right now was a waste of time. You still had about fifty systems to check, and you’d only read through about half of Kylo’s post-flight novella. Swallowing, you grabbed your datapad from the seat and flipped to the report, forcing yourself through the urge to skim.

It wasn’t like you weren’t interested. Normally this sort of thing was like a buffet for your freakish little brain. But you kept tasting embers on your tongue. Kept seeing your crew--completely unarmed, helpless fuel outpost workers--drowning in destruction. Kept hearing Hux’s voice: Multiple Resistance fighters… Heat gripped your neck, clogged your throat. Multiple fighters for a tiny station. Multiple fighters against three soft, fleshy bodies.

The First Order was not your creed; just your employer. The machine of war had always been an inconvenience to the prestige of working on elite starfighters. You knew that the loss of three cogs was nothing to that machine. In the past, it’d been nothing to you too. But you’d never eaten meals or laughed with or supported those lost cogs when they’d cried. This loss wasn’t just to war. This loss was horrifically and uniquely yours. 

“Stop.” You shook your head, tossing your datapad back on the seat. You’d finish putting the console back together, then you’d figure out what to do next.

Jaw tight, you grabbed another panel, and your grip slipped. The sharp edge sliced your palm where the wood had lanced you earlier.

“Fuck!” You dropped it and clutched your hand, seething while you tried to squeeze away the agony. Everything from your fingers to your wrist throbbed, and your chin quaked, tears burning your sight. “Fuck! Fuck!” Snarling, you kicked the panels at your feet. “Fuck!”

The thin cut felt like a sobbing gash. You tore off your jacket and wrapped the sleeve around your palm, wincing when you tightened it to the wound. 

“Stupid fucking panels!” you growled, kicking the panels again. “Stupid fucking ship, stupid fucking Kylo, stupid fucking Resistance!” The final kick dented a panel, popped off a shiny button. “Gods!”

You covered your face in your jacket and screamed until your throat crackled, until your lungs were dry. Head spinning, you drew in a breath and screamed again, stomping the floor until dizziness dropped you into the pilot’s chair. Warmth glowed at your cheeks, leaked down your back. Tremors rippled to your toes as you took in a long, steadying breath, exhaling in reluctant relief. 

You considered sitting there forever. But it only took two seconds for you to remember how Kylo also sat in this chair thinking of and dealing with everything that wasn’t you before you grunted and climbed out of the cockpit. 

The rest of the hangar seemed wholly unconcerned or otherwise ignorant to your tantrum. Wiping your eyes, you hopped to the ground, wagging off the lingering fury in your limbs. Maybe you just needed a walk. You cleared your throat and kept your hand clutched to your chest, the whispering ache pulsing in rhythm with your heart.

In all the hours you’d been in the cockpit, the Steadfast had continued to orbit Orinda. Xi-class shuttles whirled beyond the hangar entrance--probably staffed with crew collecting reconnaissance from whatever the Resistance left behind from the attack. Your feet carried you to the fuzzy blue edge of the magnetic shield’s barrier, meters from vacant space. A quiet hum resonated from its perimeter through your soles. 

You gazed into the galaxy. Orinda was a glimmering grain of sand, adrift in the celestial trenches. A fuel outpost turned graveyard. An acceptable casualty of the Resistance. Another home where you couldn’t return. That whispering ache rumbled to a hiss and cast itself over your skin, raking it over with misery, with exhaustion. Your chin quivered. The only place you could think to sleep was the silencer. Eyes falling to the floor, you turned back to the hangar.

“My quarters.”

You squealed and jumped, clapping your hands to your chest. Feet away stood Kylo Ren.

“Shit!” you said, exhaling in relief. “How the hell do you do that?” When he said nothing, you continued, “Like, sneak up on me like that.” 

“You’re not perceptive.”

You frowned. “Okay, well…” He wasn’t wrong. You sighed, shrugged. “Anyway.”

Kylo stepped forward, assessing you in your tank top, scrutinizing the tourniquet you’d made of your jacket. “Your hand.” 

“It’s fine,” you said, holding it behind your back. “Your quarters?”

His stare lingered on your exposed shoulders, on your neck. “Stay,” he said. “Until the silencer is repaired.”

“That could be as early as next cycle.” 

“Given your skill, yes.”

It was difficult to look in his direction. Every worn nerve screamed for his touch. “And then what?”

“You’ll depart to another station.”

You tried to flush the pain from your voice. “So,” you said, “you want me to stay with you through, like, one cycle, and then leave.” You looked to the ceiling in faux-consideration. “Cool. I think I’ll pass.” 

Kylo’s eye twitched. He moved closer, tone icy. “You have nowhere to sleep,” he said. “I…” He paused. His tongue rolled in his mouth. “You mean to tell me you prefer the silencer.”

“Well,” you replied, “I’ve never fucked the silencer. I never told the silencer how I felt about it. The silencer has never treated me like a stranger who just walked off the plains of Lothal.” You tapped your chin. “So, yeah, I prefer the silencer.”

He grit his teeth. “You’re no stranger.”

“Sure could’ve fooled me!” A couple of heads turned in your direction.

“Quiet,” he hissed. “It apparently takes very little for you to be fooled.”

“Excuse me?” you replied. “Run that by me again, Supreme Leader?”

“Now your hearing fails you.”

“This is great.” You offered a false smile. “This conversation is going really well.”

Kylo snarled, shoulders bunching with restraint. “You speak this way and then question why you’re unwelcome,” he replied. “Deaf and foolish.”

“Oh!” A frustrated laugh escaped. “Okay, then. Talk to you later, Your Excellency. I need a nap before I keep trying to fix your dumbass ship.”

Shaking your head, you folded your arms over your chest and stormed past him, anger blurring your vision. Stupid fucking asshole--

You made it three steps before a warm leather glove grabbed your shoulder, and you stalled, goosebumps shooting to your hands. Kylo spun you, your face inches from his, your breath fleeing and forgetting to return. His lips trembled, his jaw tightened, his gaze boring into you before it met the floor, seeking to stare anywhere else. The pressure of his fingers was firm, then floating. And then he swallowed, grip crushing your shoulder, his eyes finding you again. 

No one else in the hangar would’ve known, looking at him. But this Kylo Ren was familiar to you. 

This Kylo Ren was terrified.

“I don’t…” His voice was a feather in the air. “You are…” He averted his attention, stiffening. “You have a home.”

Your chest swelled. Water stung your eyes. “I do?”

“Yes,” he replied, utterly sincere. “But not here. Not now.”

Hairline fractures crept into your heart.

“Kylo.” Your composure cracked. All of you wanted to melt, to disintegrate into his being and know each word trapped on his tongue. There was a reason you could not find him, that he would not unfold himself to you. “Please. Why do you want me gone so badly?”

His lips parted, as if he were about to speak--and he paused. He drew in a breath through his nose. “Complications,” he replied. “Factors you do not understand.”

You stepped closer, throat tight. His breath brushed your nose. “Tell me, then.”

Kylo huffed, shifting on his feet--and his face froze. His limbs locked, muscles taut. His gaze widened, fixated on something over your shoulder. Air leaked from him, like time was slowing to a close. You blinked, looked behind you. But nothing was there. 

Frowning, you cleared your throat. “Kylo?” He didn’t even acknowledge you. “You’re really just going to leave it like that?” 

His pupils were pinpricks.

It wasn’t like you were heartless. You knew that he was attempting wasn’t easy. But what you were feeling wasn’t a sail on a skiff either. You didn’t just deserve more. You needed it.

“Okay,” you said, backing out of his hold. “This was nice. But I have a TIE fighter to repair. So.” He didn’t respond. Didn’t even move. “Whatever.”

You turned--Kylo’s focus flicked to you. His mouth dropped, like there were words he wanted to and couldn’t speak. Instead, he remained silent, fury simmering in his gaze while you pivoted away. You didn’t say anything either. You didn’t think you had to.

When you arrived at the silencer, you clambered into the cockpit, like it was a hole you could hide in until he disappeared. Shame, stubbornness, or surrender--you imagined one of these was responsible for why he didn’t pursue you, but you didn’t care. This ship repair would be your parting gift to him, and you could take off, probably spending the rest of your life wondering how you’d managed to fuck up your affair with the galaxy’s most ineligible bachelor.

Loose panels still swarmed the pilot’s chair. You sighed and put on your jacket, settling in and throwing your feet on the dash. Your hand thumped with irritation as you closed your eyes.

Just a couple of hours. That’s all you needed. Then you’d keep working like the foolish little--

Clank.

You yelped, flinching in your seat. 

Clank.

Heart fluttering, you scanned the cockpit before realizing the noise came from outside the ship.

Clank.

It was behind you. Someone was messing with the refuel port. Or the solar lines. You couldn’t tell. Grumbling, you scrambled out of the chair and hoisted yourself up the escape. If they were fucking up this stupid ship even further--

Clankclankclank.

“Hey!” You popped your head free. “Will you...”

For a split second, you’d thought Kylo had decided to rip the solar line access open and tear into his own power supply. But then your vision focused. The man crouched over the ship was a different intimidating masked man dressed only in black. Your stomach twisted. It was the one from the Buzzard. The one who’d shoulder-checked you.

“Kuruk.”

His head whipped in your direction, the talons of his predator’s gaze gouging your chest. He pulled his hands free of the solar lines, his gloves greasy with reactant.

“Lieutenant.” 

Previously you’d thought absolutely no one but Hux could spit that word with that degree of acidity. But if Hux spat it like acid, then Kuruk hocked it--dragged it up through his throat and sputtered it like necrotic phlegm. 

You crawled onto the dorsal plane with the coordinated majesty of a blurrg, trying not to heave  and ruin any level of authority you might have tricked him into thinking you maintained. When you’d made it to both feet, you straightened, as if you did this all the time, and moved toward him.

“What are you doing?” 

“Repairing a starfighter.”

You snorted. “Really,” you replied. “Tearing out a power supply is repairing?”

Kuruk jerked his arm, wrenching free another line, spewing collector dust into the air. “Closer to repairing than sleeping in the cockpit.”

Heat rushed your spine, swathed your neck. “Yeah, well…” You examined him, watching as he cocked his head to avoid the blinders attached to his helmet. “At least I can see properly when I work on a ship.” 

“Magnification’s built into the visor.”

More heat, this time crackling in your cheeks, drying your tongue. “Look,” you said, “this is my job. I don’t need amateurs screwing it up for me.”

He paused, turned his gaze on you again. “Amateurs?”

You shrugged. “In comparison, yeah, probably.”

Kuruk leaned on his heels, wiping his gloves on his jacket. “I don’t think so.”

“Uh, I do.” This man looked like a weapon. Not an engineer. “What experience do you have?”

“It’s called the Night Buzzard,” he replied. “You might be familiar with it.”

You paused, brow raising. “You…” It was impossible to restrain your laughter. But he didn’t move. “You’re kidding. Right? That’s a joke.”

Kuruk’s hands tensed.

“Dude, that ship’s the ugliest fucking thing I’ve ever seen,” you replied. “Did you modify it with a boiled chokeroot?”

His head tilted. He rose to stand, so controlled he looked to be fighting gravity. “I can do more work with a boiled chokeroot than you can do with an entire Star Destroyer’s worth of resources,” he drawled. “Lieu. Tenant.” 

The hair on your nape stuck straight, your pulse leapt to the ceiling. But the knowledge that Kylo was within thinking distance abated your fear. 

“Might wanna get one then.” You grinned. “You’re not making much progress here without it.”

He stared, filthy fingers furling into fists--and then relaxed, the tension sloughing like reactor slime from his frame. Silent, he returned to a squat, rending more lines from their channels. For some reason, a tiny, irreverent part of you was disappointed. 

No, that was a lie. You knew why you were disappointed. But this man wasn’t the one you wanted to be taunting into a wild sexual rage. Exhaling, you crossed your arms. 

“It’s still my job,” you said.

“And I’ve been told that once it’s done, you’ll be gone.”

“What?” You gawked. “What the fuck? You, too? I didn’t even do anything to you!”

“Debatable.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re mad because your Master didn’t want you to disrespect an officer.”

“No.” Kuruk’s attention snapped to you. “You’re loud.”

Blood drained from your face. “I’m…”

Moments blinked in your memory like a holodrama. Like how you’d spent the entire time aboard the Buzzard thinking about Kylo slamming you against the dashboard and breaking your pussy open. How you’d mentally undressed him, verbally taunted him, physically ached for him. How you’d blazed with hatred for him and stoked it with longing. And how you’d just noted that you were desperate to wind him into a state of frenzied lust so he’d wreck you entirely.

“Oh, fuck.” You glanced at the hangar’s entrance and wondered how quickly you could hurl yourself into the vacuum of space. Speaking of hurling… “Oh, fuck.”

You couldn’t spare Kuruk another glance. With shaking hands, you fumbled your way to the ground, steadying yourself on your weakening knees. There was no way you were going to spend another minute on this ship trying to fix a starfighter while getting thought-eavesdropped by multiple men, one of whom seemed hell-bent on doing your job for you anyway. 

All you needed to do was find General Hux and get him to reassign you to another station. You’d figure the rest out later when you had time to process your myriad of losses and crippling rejection. You held your breath the entire trek to the command center, only releasing when the doors opened and you spied Hux at the head of the room, briefing someone on something you didn’t care about. 

Wiping your forehead, you trudged over to him. Hux’s gaze darted between you and the other officer, his brow furrowing as you approached.

“A moment,” he said to the man. “Can I help you, Lieutenant?”

Yeah, it definitely sounded worse out of Kuruk’s mouth. “Can I get a new station? I, uh, I need a new station.” The officer peered at you in horror. You coughed, standing at attention. “General. Requesting a new assignment, sir.”

Hux’s lips pursed, his eyes narrowed. “The silencer is already repaired?”

“Uh, no. No, sir, it’s not.” You stared at your shoes. “Still requesting a new assignment. I believe my work here is complete.”

A pause hung in the air. Hux observed you like you were a recently apprehended criminal. He sighed. 

“Dismissed, Captain.” He waited for the man to depart before turning to you. “What do you mean, your work here is complete?”

It was hard to find the appropriate words. “I mean. Uh. Permission to speak freely, sir?”

“No.”

You groaned. “Okay.” A long breath, flooding your lungs with air. “Well. My services are no longer required. My presence is redundant. I cannot return to Orinda. I’m requesting another station.” You exhaled. “Sir.”

Hux’s pink face pinched together. “Something happened with Ren.”

Warmth flushed your neck. “Uh, no--”

“Lieutenant,” he said, like the words were thorns on his tongue, “I unfortunately believe your insight and skill may still be of use to the First Order.” 

“Sir?”

“The TIE project has been approved. You may be just the person to manage it.” 

You balked. “Oh, I don’t know if that’s a good idea--”

“No?” Sharp green eyes pierced you into silence. “I thought you might leap at the opportunity, considering how cruelly the Resistance slaughtered your staff.”

Your heart clenched, your chest speared with pain. Better TIE units wouldn’t save them. But you could at least ensure their loss wouldn’t be in vain. Though you’d never supervised an undertaking of that scale before, the excitement of a challenge glittered in the distance. Glittered, then dimmed under a brooding, Kylo Ren-shaped shadow.

“Well…”

Hux glanced away, gazing through the thick panes of transparisteel, as if offering you any more praise would blind him. “Go to the Supreme Leader. Inform him of my plans.” He offered a slight shrug. “If he disagrees, then so be it. We’ll find you a new station.” The thought was left unfinished--he seemed very confident Kylo would not disagree.

Too bad you disagreed with him. “Yes, sir,” you replied. “I understand. Where might I find the Supreme Leader?”

Hux frowned. “Am I his keeper, Lieutenant?” 

A brief, blissful image of your fist connecting with his chin flashed through your mind. You shook it away.

“No,” you said. “No, sir. I’ll find him. Thank you.”

He nodded. “Dismissed.”

Shooting him a glare, you pivoted on your heel, marching out of the command center. All you needed to do was find where Kylo Ren might be by searching the entirety of this huge Star Destroyer. That would be easy.

[pastpatientlywaitingforimagines]

Constellation | Spencer Reid x Reader Platonic

WC: 2547

A/N: A cheeky little Galaxy post :)

WARNINGS: SPOILERS FOR 13x01, hospitals, general CM stuff, descriptions of panic attacks and PTSD (fictional so possibly not accurate and DEFINITELY not how everyone might experience it)

This is part of my GALAXY universe! If you liked this relationship, check out the MASTERLIST for more content!

You had only just been allowed to resume field work after an extended medical leave when Cat Adams resurfaced, leading Emily to sideline you once again.

“I’m not having this fight with you, (y/n).”

“I’m cleared for field work.”

“I know, but you’ve been cleared for less than a week and I don’t want your first case back to be this one.”

“Why, because it’s Cat Adams? I’m not afraid of her.”

“Because you’re not afraid of her, that’s why.”

“Emily-“

“I told you, I’m not having this fight. You’re going to stay here and work the case with us. JJ will go with Reid.”

As much as you resented Emily for not letting you go to the prison with Spencer, you were glad she was at least sending JJ. At least he wouldn’t be alone. It was enough to keep your head on straight, and Emily even let you go with the team to collect Diana. It made you feel more useful, especially when Spencer’s mom recognized you among the team.

When you got back to the BAU, you planned to make sure Spencer and his mom had everything they needed to resume normal life. Instead, you were greeted by Morgan, who had a lead on Scratch.

You expected Emily to tell you to stay, Scratch was just as big of a threat as Cat Adams, but she handed you a kevlar vest and didn’t say anything about it when you joined the team in the SUV’s.

It was thrilling, being back in the field. You understood why you hadn’t been allowed to be there in so long, your mind kept flickering to Spencer and his wellbeing. For the past three months, the thought was loaded and often lead to panic attacks. Now that he was released, you had to keep reminding yourself that he was safe before your worries got that far.

The speed of the drive was enough to fuel your adrenaline, but it was amped up quickly when the spikes took out your small caravan.

The truck came out of nowhere, smashing into your vehicle and immediately disorienting you more than you already were. When you finally came to, the first thing you noticed was the pain in your left arm. There was a woman next to you, she didn’t look physically injured but her behavior told you otherwise. She clearly had something internal going on.

You tried to exit the vehicle, but the side was smashed into your leg. While you didn’t think your leg was broken, you surely wouldn't be able to get it out on your own. Your hands found your gun instead, and on autopilot you double checked that it was loaded. You couldn't figure out where the rest of your gear was, or your platoon. You started whispering their names, trying to locate them.

“Smith… sound off. Marcos… sound off… Taylor… sound off. Taylor… sound off.”

“(y/n)?” a strangely familiar voice called. You tried to melt into the seat as much as you could, keeping your gun drawn towards the door on the other side of the woman. It opened, revealing a man you felt like you knew in another life.

“(y/n), it’s Matt Simmons. Are you hurt?”

“I don’t know who you are,” you kept your gun trained on his forehead. He paused for a moment, noticing the state that the woman next to you was in.

“Ok, ok. I’m going to take Tara, you stay where you are and I’ll help you next.”

“Where’s my platoon?” you asked. The flicker of realization that briefly crossed his face confused you, but instead of acting on it he took the woman he called Tara out of the SUV and started calling for someone named Luke.

“Sergeant (y/l/n), I’m Luke Alvez with the 75th Rangers. I’m going to help you get out, ok?” A new voice, also familiar, said to you calmly, “can you put the gun down?”

“Where's my platoon, Alvez?” you asked again.

“You were in an accident,” he slid onto the seat next to you when you lowered your weapon, though you kept your finger on the trigger.

“They ambushed us,” you whispered quietly when he got to working on freeing your leg.

“I know. Do you know where you are?”

“Afghanistan,” you answered incredulously, “where are the helicopters? How are you going to extract us without helicopters?” You were starting to panic more than you already had been, breathing increasing rapidly. You held your arm at a funny angle, trying to keep it where it would hurt the least. Your best guess was at least one broken bone in your arm and also a broken collarbone on that side.

“Hey, hey, it’s ok. You’re having a flashback. I can’t get your leg out from here. The first responders are going to have to help, but I can’t have you shooting them.”

“No,” you pushed back on him with your good arm, “If I can’t move you need to find Taylor first.”

“Who is Taylor?”

“You’re no help to me,” your hand flew to your left wrist, fiddling with the bracelet you wore.

“Ok, I’ll be right back,” he stepped out of the SUV and back to Simmons. Despite the clamor of first responders around you, you could still hear what the two men were saying.

“They’re deep in a flashback. We can’t get power tools in here until they’ve calmed down or they will start fighting and hurt a lot of people including themselves,” Luke said.

“So how do we do that?”

“They keep asking about their platoon, about someone named Taylor. I know (y/n) got into a humvee accident while they were overseas, I think they’re reliving it. I don’t know all the details though.”

“Who does? Does (y/n) have a therapist we can call?”

“Yeah, but it’s three in the morning,” Luke fell silent for a minute before speaking again, “I’ll call Reid. He might know something.

You had an inkling that those words were supposed to mean something to you, and it only frustrated you more when they didn’t. Alvez announced that he was rejoining you in the SUV, then pulled out his cell phone, a move that confused you because phones like that didn’t work in the desert.

It confused you even more when the call seemingly connected, Alvez giving the person on the other line information about being ambushed by Scratch, Steven being dead, and Emily missing. Though familiar, none of those names made sense to you, or your situation.

“No,” you hissed, “Taylor. I can’t find Taylor.”

“(y/n) is ok. Their arm is broken, and they're deep in a flashback. They keep asking about someone named Taylor. They never talked about a Taylor in group, what can I do to help them?” Alvez listened for a minute, then handed you the phone, “it’s for you.”

“Where did you take Taylor,” you asked harshly as soon as you had the phone in your hand.

“Listen to me, (y/n). It’s Spencer. Your mind is playing tricks on you, you’re not in Afghanistan anymore. Look around,” you finally took a minute to observe your surroundings. There were too many trees for you to be in the desert, he was right. Of all the things that weren’t making sense to you right now, he was the most familiar. He had the answers you were looking for.

“Where am I? What is happening to me?"

“You’re with the FBI in Virginia. You can trust Luke, he’s going to make sure they take you to the hospital and I’ll meet you there.”

“Is Taylor ok?”

“Yes. I’ll tell you where Taylor is when I see you at the hospital, ok? I know you’re scared and hurt, (y/n), but listen to me. It’s only rain. Can you picture the rain for me?”

A single memory jumped to the forefront of your mind, standing in the rain with a curly-headed man you were certain was Spencer. You could feel the way the droplets hit your skin, you could feel the comfort you had with the man you knew was your best friend. You could feel your lungs opening up and your breathing get easier.

“Spencer,” you exhaled, finally finding footing in your brain, “it’s only rain.”

“Keep breathing, Luke is going to get you out and I’ll meet you at the hospital, ok?”

“Yeah,” you fought to keep your breathing steady, “I’ll meet you at the hospital.”

You hung up and handed the phone back to Luke, counting your breaths.

“Give me another minute, Luke,” you could still feel your heart racing, though your mind was fighting to come back to reality. Once you felt like you had a better grip on it, you gave Luke the go-ahead and braced yourself while the crushed door of the SUV was cut off of the vehicle. It took every grounding technique you had to keep your head in the right place, and more than once you felt yourself start to panic about where Taylor was.

Luke rode in the ambulance with you, reassuring you multiple times that it was ok when you apologized for pointing a gun at him and Matt. You could feel your body crashing from the loss of adrenaline, the usual post-episode exhaustion coupled with the almost excruciating pain coming from your left side.

When Spencer arrived at the hospital, your brain was still cloudy from the exhaustion and various pain meds you had been given when the orthopedist had set your arm.

“How are you feeling?” he took a quick glance at your medical chart before actually making eye contact.

“Just tired, and still not… still not all the way here. Taylor… I still can’t figure out what happened to Taylor…”

Spencer sat down on the edge of the hospital bed, eyes soft, “Taylor was killed in the accident ten years ago. Your humvee was ambushed, do you remember?”

“Yeah,” you breathed, “I remember. Ten years ago when I was in the military. Now I’m a Supervisory Special Agent for the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI. We were chasing a lead when we were ambushed by Mr. Scratch, Peter Lewis,” Spencer nodded, “is the rest of the team ok? I haven’t seen them.”

“I haven’t seen anyone yet either,” he hesitated, and your knowledge of the man clued you in to the fact that he was calculating the probability of declining your condition if he told you everything he knew. The odds were in your favor, because after a moment he spoke again, “but Steven is dead and Emily is missing.”

“Emily’s missing?”

“I don’t know much about it, I have to talk to everyone else.”

“Then go talk to them, I promise I won’t go anywhere until you come back,” you reassured him. He made his rounds to JJ and Rossi in their rooms, then returned to yours with Luke on his heels. The other man stopped at the doorway when Spencer re-entered your room.

“I have to go take care of something for Rossi. You’re going to be ok here,” he said quickly before you could protest.

“I’m coming with you,” you started to get up. Spencer caught you gingerly when you practically fell into his grasp, still fatigued from your earlier episode.

“You can’t, not like this,” he whispered, lowering you back down onto the bed, “stay here a little longer. Will is in the next room with JJ, he said he’d take you home when they discharge you.”

“I don’t want to go home, Spence. I want to help find Emily.”

“I know, you can’t go into the field like this though. Tell me you’ll be good for the doctors so I can leave here without worrying more about you.”

You couldn't say no to this man you cared so much about, not when he was looking at you with the biggest puppy dog eyes you had ever seen from him.

"I'll try my best," you sighed, leaning back onto the pillow.

"Thank you," he gave your good hand a squeeze before heading back towards the door where Luke was waiting.

"Luke," you called before they could leave. He stopped in his tracks, inquisitively making eye contact with you to show you he was listening, "don't let him get lost in that big brain of his, ok?"

"I won't. Rest up, we need you back at full strength as soon as possible."

"Thank you," you whispered after him as he followed Spencer out of the hospital. You tried to get some sleep, but it didn't come easy as your brain tried to make sense of the events that had transpired the past few days. First Spencer's mom was taken, Spencer was released from prison, then Cat Adams showed up claiming to be pregnant with his baby, and now Scratch had literally ran a truck into your team- your family. It was a lot for one person to process, especially since your brain had taken an unwanted break from reality earlier in the evening.

You managed to doze off for a little bit, flitting in and out of sleep until exhaustion finally took over and pulled you deeper into its throws.

You were woken by a nurse who cheerfully informed you that you could go home. Will came to collect you and held your bag of belongings for you when he walked you out to his car.

He answered all of your questions to the best of his ability and even offered to bring you back to his home when you expressed how much you didn’t want to go back to your apartment.

Henry and Michael were enough to distract you from your reeling worries and keep you grounded while you waited to hear from the rest of the team. You let the boys draw on your cast, leaving the hard plaster full of colorful artwork.

As you were eating breakfast that Will had made, your phone finally rang.

“Emily is safe, Scratch is dead,” Spencer said when you answered.

“Thank goodness,” you sighed.

“Are you at home?” He asked next.

“No, I’m at JJ and Will’s. I wasn’t ready to be alone just yet,” you told him honestly.

“How’s your head?”

“Clearer now that I’ve gotten some sleep and some food. How’s yours?”

“Still getting back up to speed. Why don’t I pick you up and we can have a quiet day with my mom? We could all use the rest.”

“Sure, Spence. I’d love to spend some time with your mom.”

When Spencer came to pick you up, you noticed a soft smile playing on his lips when he saw the way you were curled up on the couch watching tv with the boys tucked into your side.

You let them greet him first, they hadn’t seen him since before he had gone to prison. Once they released him he finally wrapped his arms around you tightly.

Your relationship had never been very physical. In fact, you could count the number of times you had hugged Spencer Reid on one hand. Standing in Will and JJ’s entryway, though, embracing him for the first time since he had been arrested, you didn’t want to let go.

Galaxy Taglist: @kermitsaysgayrights @niallthedancingharry @shadyladyperfection  @thatsonezesty13  @lexshead @ceeellewrites @howdycharlie @girlycakepops @fantastic-fans @canimarrypizzaornah @daisyflower138 @dyingrexx @taylormobley @bazzleslynn @tj-drinks-tea @willa-wonky @eddiesbifocals @tee-mbrown @reniescarlett @bone-hurty-bitch

[trek-tracks]

what... what is threshold day?

Hoo boy.

Threshold Day is the anniversary of the airing of Threshold, one of the, if not THE, most batshit episodes of Star Trek Voyager, and Star Trek in its entirety. (Spoilers for Threshold below.)

In it, Lt. Tom Paris decides that, due to his enormous daddy issues, he will only be redeemed if he lives up to his potential by making it into the history books. In this case, it’s by breaking the transwarp barrier, which does not mean being trans and going into warp, a barrier which I’m sure was broken way before this, but going Warp 10 (in the new scale). Because apparently exploring basically a new section of the galaxy at the helm of the only Starfleet starship to be there is just garbage in terms of history-making, I guess.

So they find out there’s a 2% chance his personal brain will explode if he does this, and they’re going to let Harry Kim do it instead, but Tom is like, “no, Captain. You don’t understand. I have MASSIVE daddy issues. Also, you’d probably have to promote Harry if he succeeded, and nobody wants that.” 

And Janeway is like, “Oh shit, I really don’t want to promote Harry. Also, I have some pretty big daddy issues of my own, so I getchu; have at it. Hope your brains stay unexploded.”

So he successfully does his thing, and he’s like, EVERYWHERE AT ONCE, MAN. He sees everything. Past, present, Harry in the shower - I mean, future - in all places at once. Which is why it’s odd that he’s so surprised when he collapses in the Mess Hall after drinking one of Neelix’s truly noxious brews. He should have known how gross it was going to be. 

Anyway, the next twenty minutes or so are the EMH trying to stop Tom from turning into a weird gross scaly creature, with limited success. He stops being able to breathe oxygen. He gets super paranoid and rants a lot. He yells about pepperoni (I am not kidding). He asks for a dying kiss from Kes, which leads to a truly marvelous turn-down line: “I’m sorry, Tom. If we let down the forcefield, you’ll suffocate,” which I will now use for any unwanted come-ons. He legit DIES, then comes back to life a pretty long time later. He yells at Janeway, and then, like anyone who dares yell at Janeway would expect, his tongue literally falls out of his mouth. 

Finally, he’s getting pretty close to salamander territory, when the last 15 minutes give up on making ANY sense. He busts out of Medbay, kidnaps Janeway, goes to Warp 10 again, turns them both into complete salamanders (I guess the EMH literally did nothing to help Tom, because apparently Janeway makes it through the transformation just fine without medical attention), and then HAS LIZARD BABIES with her.

Which we know, because the Voyager crew manages to find them three days later, and in that time apparently Janeway has changed over and already had the babies. Also, they were able to find a shuttle that literally could have gone anywhere in the entire universe. Chakotay then shoots the salamanders and they take them back, leaving the babies to…I don’t know, sala-meander around or something. Why is Chakotay’s first reaction to phaser the largely-sedentary salamanders? I have no idea.

Cut immediately to the EMH having been able to just roll back their DNA or something and make them entirely human again as if nothing had happened (If this were possible, why didn’t they just Warp 10 home to Earth and then fix everyone while they evolved? It sounds like it would suck, but so would being lost for 70 years). Janeway insinuates she may have initiated the salamating. (Tom should have said salami instead of pepperoni, in salamander solidarity). They laugh off something that should require about 50 years of counseling. Tom says, “cool, I think I have slightly less daddy issues now.”

YOU KNOW WHO HAS MORE DADDY ISSUES NOW? MAYBE YOUR ABANDONED SALAMANDER BABIES.

AND NONE OF THIS IS EVER MENTIONED AGAIN. OR HAS ANY IMPACT ON THE SERIES. EVER.

And so, we commemorate this weird atrocity (which actually has some nice character development and Emmy-winning makeup, but AT WHAT COST) with a day of commiseration and celebration, largely spearheaded by @captaincrusher. Join us next year…posts are already being prepared.

[theoriginalladya]

Dinosaur Brain

I have the most amazing friends, I swear!

The following ficlet evolved out of conversations about Rhys Shepard and Grunt and dinosaurs ... and then it had to have some commissioned ART, too!  Fabulous art by @thepixelagora​ who somehow managed to take my incoherent ramblings about this and turn it into the absolutely most perfect picture of events!!!!  Thank you so much for lending me your talents!!  

There is more to this story, but it wasn’t quite working how I wanted, so the rest will come later.  In the meantime, have the madness that started it all!!!

The story can also be found on AO3 here.

~~~

Rhys drops into an empty seat and starts eating immediately, his focus less on the food and more on the datapad in his hand. Across from him, a chair squeaks and shadows flicker in his peripheral vision.  Still, he pays little heed to the disruption until…

“You going all dinosaur brain?”

He would prefer to flat out ignore the question, but there are times that’s worse than responding to it.  Rhys doesn’t bother to look up from the pad.  “Not this again.”

Kaidan’s chuckle of amusement drifts across the table. “What?”

“You know what.”

Kaidan leans over and stabs a piece of Rhys’ meal, retreating quickly.  He chews with a thoughtful look in his eye, then swallows.  “Tell me honestly, when have you never been thinking about them?”

“What’s a dinosaur?”

The table wobbles as Grunt slams his tray down and sits next to Rhys.  This time, it’s Kaidan who is taken aback and Rhys whose interest perks up.  “You want to know what dinosaurs are?”

“Here we go,” Kaidan mutters, rolling his eyes and reaching for his coffee.

Rhys ignores him and turns to face Grunt. “O’Keer never imprinted them on you?”

Grunt shakes his massive head back and forth. “What are they?”

Rhys peeks over at Kaidan, his blue eyes sparkling with delight.  “Translated from the Latin, the word means ‘terrible lizard,’” he explains.  “They are creatures that lived millions of years ago on Earth.”  He grabs his datapad, pointedly ignoring the sputter of choked laughter from Kaidan, and scrolls to the end of the device before passing it over to Grunt.  “This is a Triceratops.  About eight meters long and three meters tall.  They are known for having three horns on their head; one long one above each eye and a smaller one over its nose, as well as a large frill made out of bone.”

Grunt examines the picture on the datapad then glances back over at Rhys.  “Looks like a mighty warrior,” he concludes with a sage nod.

Rhys grins.  “Actually, they weren’t the fighters.  Not unless they were attacked, of course.” He takes back the datapad and sets it aside.  “The real fighters were the Velociraptors and Tyrannosaurus Rex.”

“You know,” Kaidan muses as he sits back in his seat, “I’m going to tell Wrex you’re calling him a tyrant again.”

“Oh, shut up!” Rhys hisses over at him.  He spends the next several minutes explaining about the two different dinosaurs to Grunt before he reaches into his pocket and nabs the Deinonychus claw he always carries with him.  “This is from a much smaller dinosaur, similar to the Velociraptor, called Deinonychus.  I found this on our family’s ranch when I was a kid.”  

Grunt takes the claw and squints at it, holding it up to the light and tilting his head.  “Doesn’t look very dangerous.”

Rhys chuckles.  Pushing his chair back, he stands and lifts a hand to about chest level, just above his elbow.  “They were only this tall when adults,” he explains.  “A smaller version of the Velociraptor, if you will, but older.  They were also very bird-like.”

“You know, Shepard,” Garrus comments from down the table, “if you keep making references like that, I’m going to start taking it personally.”

Kaidan almost spits out his coffee.  Rhys just grins as he retakes his seat.  

Grunt, however, stares at the datapad.  “So, what did you do with them?”

Kaidan starts to laugh uncontrollably.  Rhys kicks his leg beneath the table.  “We didn’t do anything to them.  They died out over time, long before humans were around.  We’ve spent centuries searching for their bones, fossilized in the earth.”  

The krogan sets the datapad down.  “Too bad.  I would have liked to go up against one of them.”

 ~

 A week later, while on duty in the CIC with his attention focused on planets, minerals, and potential prothean ruins, Grunt comes thundering his way through. “Shepard!”

Caught in the middle of running a scan, Rhys cannot give the krogan his full attention, and calls back over his shoulder, “Yes?”

Grunt makes some sort of disgruntled sound. “Shepard, what’s a ‘shark?’”

With his fingers flying over the haptic keyboard, Rhys’ reply comes automatically.  “Water dinosaur.”  A heartbeat passes, and he thinks about what he said before turning around to find the krogan standing there, a piece of paper in his hand.  It is an image of a Great White shark.

Kaidan is just exiting the cockpit and happens by during the conversation.  Giving Rhys a bemused look, he replies, “Really?”

Rhys shrugs back at him, but Grunt grins, a spark of delight in his eyes, and turns back toward the lift, chuckling in his usual, deep, rumbly manner.  It’s quite adorable, even if it does leave both men scratching their heads.

 ~

 Late in the Collector mission

Stops at the Citadel are opportunities Rhys never ignores.  This time around, however, he isn’t tracking down prothean specialists at the university or the archives, but shopping.  He returns to the Normandy a few hours before required, not surprised to find the CIC nearly empty as he walks through, bags in hand.  What does surprise him, however, is when the lift doors open and Kaidan steps out.  The other man sizes up the current situation and his hand shoots back out to hold the doors open for Rhys.  “What are those?” he asks, nodding at the bags Rhys carries.

Hopping inside, Rhys shrugs.  “Books.”  

Kaidan chuckles.  “Obviously.”  He reaches into a bag and tugs one free.

Sighing and rolling his eyes, Rhys clarifies.  “On dinosaurs.”

The switch from amusement to… well, whatever the look in his eyes is now – half bemusement, half irritation? – is instantaneous.  Kaidan drops the book back into the bag without looking at it and slams his hand on the buttons.  “You need a fucking lab, I swear.”

Rhys chuckles.  “I tried, but Mordin won’t share.”  He’s the first one through the doors when the lift stops outside of Kaidan’s cabin.  The new arrangement works out better than expected, at least until this topic comes up in discussion.  “Besides, these aren’t for me.”

“No?”  Kaidan swipes his hand over the door’s interface.  “Who?”

“Grunt.”

Almost as if he’s listening in to their conversation, a soft, “Hehehehehe,” whispers through the walls of the ship as they enter the room.  

 ~

 2186, Citadel, during the Reaper War

While Kaidan heads off to do Spectre things, Rhys makes his way to Huerta Memorial Hospital.  After the incident on Mars and his time spent there, the desire to visit isn’t exactly thrumming inside of him, but Grunt is now a patient there, and it’s more important to check on how the krogan is doing.  Wrex’s assurances that Grunt is fine aside, Rhys decides to check in on him anyway, just to be sure.  Kaidan promises to meet up with him as soon as his responsibilities are taken care of, hopefully in time to visit the krogan as well.  

Entering the critical care ward, Rhys notices not much has changed in the weeks since his departure.  In many ways, it reminds him of the rest of the Presidium at the moment; hiding the true nature of what is happening in the Galaxy outside of the Serpent Nebula behind common, everyday things like Blasto movies, home redecoration conventions, and the latest varren races.  Nothing like sticking their collective heads in the sand.

Rhys enters to find Grunt sitting up in bed.  There are makings of a few scars – two across his face, another on his upper left arm, and one more across the broad expanse of his chest – but he appears greatly improved since receiving his injuries on Utukku.  As Rhys enters, Grunt slowly turns his bandaged head in his direction.  His voice is on the weak side, but there is an urgency to it that confuses Rhys at first.  “Shepard.”

Rhys takes that as permission to enter, removing his cowboy hat in the process.  “Hey, Grunt. How’re you doing?”

Grunt ignores the question.  “Shepard, what’s a kakliosaur?”

Startled, it takes Rhys a minute to digest the full question.  In the space between, he pulls over a chair and takes a seat.  “It’s… a krogan dinosaur, I guess,” he replies after a time. “Remember the Triceratops? Akin to that, I guess you could say.”

An added spark of life brightens the krogan’s blue eyes.  “Krogan had dinosaurs?”

Rhys chuckles but nods.  “I would point out that krogan are dinosaurs, but yeah. They had creatures very similar to Earth’s dinosaurs.”

Lying back, Grunt’s eyes close, but he manages a small laugh as he drifts back off to sleep.  “Hehehehehe.”  Rhys takes his leave a few minutes later.

After catching up with one another, Rhys and Kaidan reboard the Normandy.  Halfway through the CIC, Rhys announces, “We have a mission.”

They’re just passing Traynor’s station and she hands Kaidan several datapads.  Absently, he replies, “I know.”

Rhys sighs.  “A new one, I mean.”

That, apparently, is enough to catch the man’s attention, and he glances up.  “What?”

Using his chin to point to the galaxy map, Rhys continues, “We need to go to the Phoenix System.  It’s… important.”

Kaidan frowns.  “What the hell are you talking about?”

A grin slips across Rhys’ face.  He can’t help it.  “We are going dinosaur hunting.  Krogan dinosaur hunting, to be specific.”

The blank look in Kaidan’s eyes as he blinks owlishly at him makes it clear he has no idea what Rhys is talking about.  Either that or he thinks Rhys has lost his mind. Maybe both.  “Check your messages.”

There is a hint of apprehension in his steps as Kaidan walks over to his terminal and retrieves them.  “Shit!”

Rhys tips his hat just a bit and turns toward the elevator.  “See? Told you.  Anyway, let me know when we get there.  I know the director of the museum.”

He’s just stepped onto the lift and pressed the button for the cabin when Kaidan calls over, “Have I mentioned you’re a menace?”

Rhys’ grin widens and he winks at him.  “Not this week…”

[frenchpuppycormier]

I'd Follow You Wherever

(ao3)

word count: 4k

rating: T

Once again a shoutout to @femmeluthor for being my number one fan and listening to me complain ;)

Lena stares unblinking at the object in her hands and thinks about where her actions have led her, and daydreaming about what her life has become. Never in a million years did she picture this is what she’d be doing in her thirties; preparing herself to travel across the galaxy to another dimension to rescue the woman she cares most about in the world. The universe.

“You sure this is going to work?”

“It has to,” Lena quivers. Alex nods in understanding. “I don’t know what else to do, Alex. Nothing feels right without her. I-I can’t sleep at all, I’m constantly thinking about her and how she is, I think my hair is falling out, I can’t walk by our favorite restaurant anymore without crying…I can barely eat, and when I do it just comes back up. All I feel is this constant, aching pain and it’s sucking me dry. I don’t know what to do,” she chokes out a sob and her hands start to tremble. “Alex, I have to do this!”

Sensing a panic attack of larger proportions on the horizon, Alex steps forward and pulls her into a gentle, yet firm hug. “Hey,” she squeezes her back with one hand while the other runs soothingly along Lena’s shoulder blade and arm. Resting her head against hers, Alex murmurs, “It’s okay. I understand. You gotta do what you gotta do. I just wish we had another way.”

Lena leans back and looks at her incredulously with pinched brows, “What, you don’t think I can do this?”

Alex huffs and lets out a soft chuckle. “Lena, no. That’s not what I’m saying.” Noticing Lena isn’t standing down from her natural defensiveness, she rolls her eyes. “You really don’t see it?”

“Please, enlighten me,” she gestures as if telling her to continue.

“Lena,” Alex shakes her head and rests her palms on Lena’s shoulders. “I already lost Kara; I can’t lose you too. I mean, I know you and I never really got a chance to make things right, but I’d like to think we’re friends, don’t you?”

A stray tear drops from Lena’s eye and she wipes it with her thumb before sniffling. She cracks a smile and deflects, “Since when did you become so sentimental?”

Alex releases her hold and laughs, “Well, having Kara as a sister does that to me. Lately it’s occurred to me that life’s too short to be a hard ass all the time, as cheesy as it sounds. And you know, Kelly is a therapist.” That gets a chuckle out of Lena. “I don’t know, I guess I just realized you’re the closest thing I have to Kara right now, and to be honest…I think you’re pretty special, Lena.”

The former CEO’s eyes widen with the admission. “Thank you,” her voice cracks. She clears her throat, “You’re not so bad yourself.”

Alex jokingly salutes her but quickly grows serious again. She huffs loudly and her eyes dart around the room before settling on Lena’s face. The woman looks back with a worried gaze.

“What?” Lena asks. “Alex, what is it?”

“Nothing, I just,” she shakes her head and gathers her wits. She stands straighter and crosses her arms in front of her chest, and with her head held high she says, “I’m going with you.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“Alex, no,” she states firmly. “We agreed—”

The auburn-haired woman shakes her head. “We,” Alex gestures her finger between the two of them, “Didn’t agree on anything. You strutted in here with your proclivities and decided what was happening without allowing the rest of the group any say in it.”

“Alex…”

“I’m going with. It’s final,” Alex states and saunters over to the control panel in the center of the tower.

Lena scoffs and follows her, yelling at her turned back, “The hell you are! The deal was I go and you stay here in case anything happens to me. That way, you still have a fighting chance to save Kara and I, I will have tried my best, but I did what I could and you’ll get to move on.” Lena pauses for a second and emphasizes, “With Kara.”

Alex whips her head around and shoots daggers at her, causing Lena to startle and shrink back. “That’s bullshit and you know it.” Lena’s nostrils flare in retaliation, but Alex keeps going. “I’m sick of you putting yourself on the line all the time. You’re just like Kara and it’s annoying as fuck!” She laughs tiredly as an epiphany enters through her brain. “You guys are perfect for each other.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh come on, Lena. You can’t be that dense,” Alex says, with mild exasperation. “Kara loves you, she’s in love with you, but she’s been too afraid to tell you because of the whole secret identity mishap. She already made a huge mistake which pissed you off, she didn’t want to risk losing you again, or your friendship, by speaking it into existence…And you!” she points accusingly at Lena. “You are too stubborn to admit your feelings out loud, so you bury them deep down inside because you think Kara will deny you or laugh at you, but if you actually think that then you really don’t know my sister at all.”

Lena’s mouth is hanging open by the time she’s done. She quickly closes it and swallows thickly before replying. “She loves me?”

Alex deflates and smiles softly. “Honey, she almost risked the entire timeline to tell you her secret earlier than when she actually did. I’d say she loves you.”

“Wait, what—”

“We’ll get to that part later, but for right now we’re running out of time,” Alex grabs the device from Lena. “So, ready to go rescue my sister?”

Lena eyes her suspiciously, “We’re not done with this conversation.”

“Scout’s honor.”

“You were never a girl scout,” Lena snatches back the device. “I’ll take that. Took me all night to make this. I’m not risking it in your hands.”

Alex smirks, “’Kay, so remind me how this works again? Just so everything’s clear?”

“Well…basically we open up a portal to the Phantom Zone, then once we step through, this,” Lena holds up the device, “Will allow us to track Kara and her location. I took the nanobots to map the brains of the progeny we have in containment. Then, I used q-waves to replicate Malefic’s powers, and M’gann’s sensing abilities, and with the help of Kara’s DNA I was able to calibrate the device to the right frequency, which is how we’ll find her. All of this to make one simple tracking device. Again. Y’know, since you stole the first one I made.”

Alex winces under Lena’s intense glare. “I said I was sorry.”

“No worries, all is forgiven,” the former CEO smirks.

Alex releases a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. “Okay, so then how will we know exactly where Kara is?”

“The device will chirp when we’re in her radius.”

“Is there any way we can narrow it down? Like to her exact coordinates or something? The Phantom Zone is a large place.”

“I wish I could say there was another way, but I’m afraid this is all we have,” Lena deflates. “You’re not about to back out already, are you?”

Alex purses her lips. “No way, Luthor. You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

Lena lifts her arm and presses the button to the portal watch. She glances at Alex and smiles, “Let’s go get our girl.”

.

.

.

Lena doesn’t know how long it takes them. Her watch tells her it’s been a week, but time in the Phantom Zone is different, so for all she knows it’s been a month since they’ve been roaming around searching for Kara.

Her feet are dragging with every step and she can tell Alex is just as exhausted and sluggish as she is. She knows they need to take a break and rest. She knows this. But she also knows the longer they wait, the longer they are away from Kara. The longer Kara has been here suffering by herself, and Lena can’t have that. No, she needs to get to Kara as fast as possible. Before it’s too late.

They pass a large boulder and after a minute of no random ramblings from Alex’s mouth, or fun facts to distract them, Lena frowns and stops. She turns around and sees no sign of the other woman. She squints and just barely notices a figure toppled over on their side, not moving. “Alex!”

Lena runs as fast as her legs can move her. She stumbles next to Alex and lands on her knees, the pain excruciating. Her synapses are firing throughout her body, but that’s the least of her worries right now. She shakes the older woman’s shoulders and cries out her name once more.

No response.

“Goddammit, Alex. Don’t do this to me. We’re so close!” Lena whips her backpack off and fumbles around the contents for her water bottle. Leave it to Lena to come extra prepared. She twists the cap off and pours a conservative amount on Alex’s face. It does the trick.

“Jesus, Lena!” she sputters and breathes heavily, wiping the liquid from her eyes.

“You fucking scared me half to death! What was I supposed to do?” Lena shrieks. If only her brother could see her now. He’d get a kick out of the way she’s freakishly reminiscent to a final girl and their antics.

Alex sits up with help from Lena. She swipes the bottle from her and takes a long swig, water dribbling down her bottom lip. “Thanks.”

Lena nods. “No problem.” She glances around them and shivers. “Now, I don’t know about you, but this place is giving me major Alien the movie vibes and we’re out in the open. So, how’s about we get a move on, hmm?”

“You don’t need to say ‘the movie’. You can just say Alien.”

“Alex…”

“Alright, alright,” Alex teases.

Rolling her eyes, Lena helps Alex to her feet with ease, and they continue the trek. It lasts about ten miles, until Alex needs another break. This time a chosen break. They settle along a bank of tall, pointy rocks. Lena reaches into her bag and downs a healthy amount of water.

“Hey! You gonna leave any for me?” Alex complains.

“Well maybe you should’ve brought your own!” Lena argues, but hands over the bottle anyway.

Alex thanks her and lowers herself to the ground. She grabs her ankle and winces. “Did you happen to bring a first aid kit in that bag of yours?”

Lena raises a perfectly sculpted eyebrow and huffs, “It’s like you don’t know me at all.” She crouches next to Alex, takes off her bag, and rifles through it. While she’s distracted, she barely notices her surroundings and doesn’t have time to react to the feeling of a slight pinch on her arm.

She slowly turns her head and looks over to see Alex retract her hand, which holds a syringe. A wave of nausea hits Lena hard and her vision blurs. The last thing she sees is a snarling Alex before she succumbs to darkness.

When she wakes up it’s to pitch black surroundings, save for a small fire burning by her feet. Sosmall, in fact, it shouldn’t even be considered a fire. It’s merely smoldering embers, wisps of smoke on the verge of dying. Lena goes to move her arms but they’re being constrained be something. She mentally catalogues the environment around her, and realizes her wrists are tied together behind her back with rope, and her arms are wrapped around a tree. The only tree for miles.

Why would Alex do this? she thinks. I thought we were friends. Or was she just playing me the whole time to get close to me? And when she finally gained my trust, she twisted the proverbial knife into my gut. But for what? There’s nothing her for her to gain.

Lena groans and struggles against her confines.

“Ah, you’re awake,” a voice startles her from her reverie. “Good.”

“Alex,” Lena croaks, her throat parched. “Why are you doing this?”

Alex laughs like a hyena catching its prey. “Can’t you see? You’re just a dumb, pathetic weakling who never learns. You trust too easily, even though you know everyone will eventually betray you. You’re worthless,” Alex spits. “Twisted and evil; you’re a Luthor, just like your brother. Who would ever love you?”

Lena trembles, tears prickling her eyes. “No…”

“Everything you touch turns to ash. Kara’s probably dead because of you. The world hates aliens, because of you. You’re going to pay for what you’ve done,” Alex’s face slowly morphs into Lex’s sneering face, and suddenly everything feels wrong. “We could’ve had it all, Lena. We could’ve built something together, but you had to go and play hero, didn’t you?”

“No!” Lena chokes.

Lex steps closer so he’s towering of her, the light from the fire burning shadows across his sunken face. “You never learn, Lena. You don’t deserve the Luthor name. Supergirl is mine and you can’t stop me.” He puts his hands in his pant pockets like he just landed a deal, the confidence radiating off him as he walks away.

“W-Where are you going?” Lena yells. “What are you going to do?”

He turns around to look at her one last time and says, “To do what you couldn’t; I’m going to kill Supergirl.” He struts off into the distance with the only sound being Lena’s screams echoing throughout the wide berth of the canyon.

Lena screams until her throat grows hoarse and all that comes out is thick, dry sobs. She shakes and trembles and pulls at her wrists to break free, but it’s no use. Exhaustion settles in her bones and takes over until her eyelids grow heavy, and the darkness encompasses her once again.

The next time she wakes it’s to blinding light. She squints and tries to rub her face, but remembers they’re tied behind her back. Her heart starts thumping rapidly in her chest as the panic swallows her whole. She’s all alone. Left for dead. With no way to escape. She supposes she deserves this. Alex said so herself, who would ever love her?

As the day goes on her limbs grow heavy and her body gets weaker and weaker. She sighs and lets the elements do their work and take over. The last thought running through her mind before she goes is that she never got to tell Kara how she felt. Closing her eyes, Lena hears a voice in the back of her mind repeating her name. It’s getting louder and louder, but she doesn’t care. All she wants to do is sleep.

She hears the same voice yell her name again, sounding so close, yet far away. The voice is muffled as if she’s underwater.

“LENA!”

With no warning, she feels a jolt of pain in her ribs, and like her body is shocked with adrenaline, her eyes blast wide open and she wheezes. The first thing she notices is Alex hovering over her with worried eyes.

Alex sags in relief, “Oh, thank God.”

“Get away from me!” Lena shudders and backs away on her hands, palms scraping against the rough terrain.

“Woah! Hey, what’s going on?” Alex pleads holding her hands out in a placating gesture.

“You left me for dead,” Lena whimpers, tears threatening to fall. “You just left me there, all alone.”

Alex frowns, “What? No, Lena. Hey, look at me,” Alex tentatively reaches her hand toward the brunette like one would when dealing with a spooked animal. She grabs her chin as those glassy eyes morph into something akin to tentativeness. “You’re okay. None of that was real. It was all in your head.”

After quiet contemplation and realizing what she’s saying holds true, Lena sighs deeply and nods. “What happened?”

“I don’t know. We were just resting and I heard you whimpering in your sleep. I thought something was seriously wrong.”

Lena stares blankly at her. “But I don’t remember falling asleep….”

Alex’s eyebrows pinch together. “What do you—”

That’s when Lena notices the phantom looming in the dark. Its eyes are glowing red and its hands are buzzing with an energy as if taking control of someone’s mind.

“It’s him. He was playing tricks on us!” Lena whisper shouts and shuffles to her feet in one swift motion. She grabs Alex’s hand and pulls her away before the phantom wakes up. “We need to go. Right now!”

.

.

.

They make it to the edge of a ravine and Lena stops short, her mind spiraling with confusion. It must show on her face, because Alex notices something’s off almost immediately.

“What is it?” Alex asks.

“I’ve been here before,” Lena mutters, mostly to herself. If it weren’t for their close proximity, Alex probably wouldn’t have heard her.

“What? That’s impossible…”

Lena shakes her head. “No, not literally. I was here in my dream,” she rolls her eyes at herself. “Or rather, what the phantom put inside my head. This has to mean something!” At that exact moment, the tracking device in Lena’s hands lights up and shrills harshly. “She’s close! Kara’s close!” she grins widely, excitement swelling her cheeks.

As Lena walks away, the device growing louder with each step, Alex grabs her by the elbow and pulls her back effectively stopping her in her tracks. “What if it’s a trap?”

“We’ve come this far. We can’t stop now,” Lena rips her arm away and trudges on, leaving Alex in the dust. Alex quickly catches up with her and wordlessly makes it known that she’s got her back.

The duo makes it to a point where the device is droning out a constant beep. “She’s here!” Lena exclaims. Here is a maze of jagged rocks and what can only be described as molten lava.

“Fuck! How are we supposed to find her in here?!” Alex rubs her temples.

“Shh,” Lena grabs her wrist. “Do you hear that?” Alex lowers her hands and listens for any noise in the vicinity. A quiet whimper emerges from somewhere to their left. Lena blames it on the lack of sun in the decrepit place, blames the lack of light for why they were unable to see a small figure leaning on the rocky wall, hidden in the shadows.

“Kara?” Lena gasps. She creeps forward careful not to startle her. “Kara,” she says, louder this time.

“Who’s there?” Kara asks, trembling slightly and shuffling away so she’s pressed up against the wall. Her normal demeanor is completely forgotten and it’s morphed into rigidity and stiffness.

Alex’s body betrays her and she collapses to the ground in a heap, her hands covering her mouth in shock. Tears trickle down her cheeks. Lena glances back over her shoulder and softens in understanding.

Lena crouches down closer to Kara and as soon as her eyes adjust to the dark, she chokes on her own breath. Kara’s once bright, sapphire eyes are now pale and grey. They’re slowly losing the light inside of her, and becoming something dark and lost. “Kara,” she whispers.

“Who are you? How do you know my name?” Kara’s eyes dart around like she’s frantically searching for something.

“Hey, it’s me,” she sits on her knees facing her, itching to reach out and touch her. “It’s Lena. Listen to my voice.”

Kara shakes her head furiously, tendrils of hair bouncing off her shoulder. “No. No, Lena can’t be here. It’s not safe.”

“Darling, it’s me. Okay?”

“No. No, no, no, no,” Kara cries, her body shaking with every utterance.

Lena doesn’t fight it anymore and she clasps onto Kara’s flailing hands. “It’s me, Kara. I’m here. Your Lena,” she lifts Kara’s hands and places them on her own face. “I had to find you myself, I couldn’t trust anyone else to do it without fail. I supposed that’s selfish of me, but when it comes to you I’d do anything.”

Kara begins tracing over Lena’s features with deft fingers, every worry line and wrinkle. She starts with the eyebrows she’s become quite accustomed to, then continues with the swell of her cheekbones and sharp jawline, moving over to the slope of her nose, and finally settling her thumbs on plump, parted lips. Her favorite pair of lips. Lena’s breath hitches from Kara’s tender searching.

Once she’s done, Kara rests her forehead on Lena’s and faintly sobs, hands gripping underneath her jaw and along her neck. “It really is you,” Kara closes the distance and slowly, but with steady determination, kisses her. Lena’s lips are soft and warm compared to the acrid burning that’s constantly surrounded her since she’s been in this place. She sighs, causing a breathy moan to emerge from Lena, and she pulls back to breathe in the woman before her. “I never thought I’d get the chance to do that.”

Lena laughs and Kara melts at the sound, forgetting such a simple thing could cause her so much joy. Kara opens her eyes and she almost chokes on her breath from the shiny, emerald eyes gazing back at her with nothing but love. “Lena,” she breathes.

“Kara?”

“I see you. Rao, you’re so beautiful,” she gushes.

Lena’s cheeks become a light dusting of pink with that admission, and she dips her head bashfully. “You’re not so bad yourself, Supergirl.”

Kara grins and gently tilts Lena’s head up. She leans her forehead on Lena’s again, playfully bumping their noses against each other, while softly rubbing her thumbs over Lena’s cheeks, just below her eyes. “I really want to kiss you again,” she whispers.

“I look forward to doing a whole lot more of that, but let’s get you home first, yeah? I’m still concerned about getting you somewhere safe.” Kara nods mutely and smiles morosely. “Can you stand?”

“I think so.”

Lena stands and reaches for her hands. She’s not expecting Kara to be that light, so when she pulls her up Kara stumbles forward and nearly topples over her. Lena catches her fall and before she can say anything, the Kryptonian is encircling her arms around Lena and murmuring into her neck, “I missed you so much.” Lena tightens her hold and squeezes her back. “Me too.”

Kara pulls back and tilts her head to the side. “Are you here alone?”

Lena shakes her head, “No, Alex is here too. She’s right there,” she nods to her right and frowns at Kara. “Could you not hear her?”

“I was a little distracted…” she shrugs smugly.

Lena responds by unconsciously licking her lips. She catches herself and pushes the thoughts of strong arms and legs out of her head, and rolls her eyes. The raven-haired woman pulls Kara over to Alex and whispers, “Alex?”

The older woman wipes her eyes and stands up. When she takes in the sight of her sister, she completely breaks. “Kara!” Alex engulfs her in a hug, causing an oof to emerge from the hero. Kara responds by wrapping an arm around her sister’s neck, with one of Lena’s hands still connected with her free hand.

“Alex,” Kara weeps. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“Are you kidding me?” Alex pulls back. “I couldn’t let this one over here take the reins,” she jabs a thumb toward Lena, who scoffs.

“Who was it that saved your ass? And got us here in the first place?” Lena claps back.

“Semantics,” Alex waves a hand nonchalantly.

Kara grins at the interaction between her sister and her best friend. She sure missed a lot while she was incapacitated in the Phantom Zone, but if this is one of the outcomes, she thinks maybe it was worth it. She’s only ever wanted for Lena to become a part of her family, and she’s giddy at the sight of seeing her get along so well with Alex. Even if things are bound to change, at least she has her two favorite women with her. It doesn’t matter what happens next if it means they’re by her side.

“Ready to go home, goofball?” the girl of steel questions.

Alex sticks out her tongue but smiles anyway. “Yes, please.”

Kara grabs a hold of Alex’s hand while her other wrapped around Lena’s waist. She squeezes her hip and kisses her temple. “Ready when you are.” Lena leans into her touch and lifts her wrist one last time. As she glances at the two sisters beside her, she smiles and thinks about how lucky she is. She presses the button and together they walk through the portal.

Back to National City.

Back to their family.

Back home.