#stars fictober

[thewritingstar]

Costumed Confessionals

Fictober 2022 Day 1 

Pairing: TwiYor

Fandom: Spy x Family 

Prompt: Costumes 

Note: Hello everyone! I have decided to try my hand at another fictober and force myself to get back into the writing grove. The new season (or season 1 part 2) of Spy x Family came out and it made me realize how much I love Loid and Yor. They are in love and thats it.  

Anyways, Im not following any prompt list but just thinking of my fav ships and then something fall/halloween to write about. If you have any ships or prompts, please feel free to drop them in my ask box as it would help me and I love seeing walls wonderful suggestions. Hope you enjoy! 

Please let me know if you would like to be tagged in fics (I might do an update because its been a while) 

----

Loid stood in front of his mirror. The big bow tie was hitting below his chin and he couldn’t decide if it was uncomfortable or not. He was just hoping that it wouldn’t be a problem tonight but he's messed with it so much that he's not sure that his torture training will be enough to combat it. 

The only thing he had left to do was stick on his headband that had the two floppy white ears and then his costume would be complete. He wasn't sure how he got talked into this costume but he knew that Anya must have put the idea into her mothers head...fake mother that it. 

Even though his idea of a classic prince and princess would have been easier, Anya’s desperate pleads left Loid in bright red overalls and a painted on nose to match. 

While he didn’t mind dressing up, his profession certainly put him through it enough, he was worried that it might be too silly for Yor’s event. He remembers the night he walked through the door and Yor was so nervous to ask him to attend her works Halloween ball that the blush on her face was enough to make his heart flutter. 

Of course it was important to keep up appearances but he was looking forward to dancing with her tonight and rubbing in their marriage to her snobby coworkers. 

Plus, the costume that matched with his was enough of a reason to go. 

Loid picked up the ears and plopped them onto his head. While he wasn’t a rabbit himself, he was certain that most of the guests would know that he was Roger Rabbit. 

And with Roger Rabbit came his beautiful wife. 

“Loid, are you almost ready?” He heard Yor’s voice through his door. 

Quickly he grabbed his keys and wallet and opened the door to reveal Yor leaning against the wall casually. 

Loid froze in his tracks. No amount of training could prepare him for the way that he seamless felt for his wife...his fake wife. She was gorgeous. Utterly beautiful and would make everyone at the party gaze at her with desire or envy. 

The long red sequin gown hugged her body in ways he wasn’t even sure was possible. Long purple gloves went up to the crease of her elbows and though she opted to not wear a wig, her long black hair was done up to make her look like the iconic Jessica Rabbit. 

Noticing that Loid had said nothing, Yor got nervous and pushed herself from the wall causing the fabric to spilt and her leg to be exposed by the long slit in the dress. 

“You don’t think its too much?” She asked him and Loid could only stare at her red lips that he wanted to taste so badly. 

“You look stunning.” He uttered and he was certain his cheeks were matching his pants. 

“Oh. Thank you.” She blushed and she couldn’t help the smile as had as she stared at him. “You look good Loid, those ears suit you.” She giggled. 

“You think?” He smirked and took a step towards her and his ears bounced slightly, making her laugh a bit more. “I think that dress suits you wonderfully.” 

Perhaps it was the smell of his cologne or the way that her breathing was becoming stuck in her throat, but she didn’t notice her back connecting with the wall again. 

“I wasn’t too sure if it would look okay.” She said honestly as he put one of his hands above her and leaned closer. 

Loid reached out with his other hand and moved the hair that was covering half of her face so he could look into both of her eyes. He wasn’t sure how he would make it through the night without wanting to stare at her the entire time. 

“You my love, have nothing to worry about. I couldn’t imagine anyone else looking as good as you do.” He wan’t sure where this forwardness was coming from. 

The past few months had proven that no matter how strong he was, she was slowly unraveling him. All he wanted was to be the greatest spy, but in this moment, all he wanted was her. 

Their faces were closer than what she would deem as comfortable but she would be lying to herself if she hadn’t thought about how handsome her husband was. Fake or not, Loid was a good looking man and sometimes she would lie awake at night wondering how she could survive another day by his side without making a fool out of herself. 

They had been husband and wife for some time now and had felt the effects of wanting to grow closer. Every day was a struggle for both of them to keep their emotions down. But right now, it was just them.

He wanted her like the sun wanted the sky. How the ocean meets the horizon. All of her, he wanted. But he wouldn’t, not without her words first. He wouldn’t risk the mission, and his heart unless she was ready. 

She was looking right into his eyes like she did every day. The swirl of blue was breathtaking and she wasn’t sure how the ocean could even rival the color. While his costume wasn’t as “sexy” as hers was, he still managed to make it look good. 

She felt the way he looked at her. She wanted to ignore it and think that the softness he gave her wasn’t actually for her. So if her heart was wrong for longing for him, it wouldn’t hurt. Yet, she couldn’t help herself from wondering what it would be like if they were to get closer. 

Slowly, she reached out and straightened his bowtie. 

“Loid.” She said. 

“Yes?” 

She swallowed and didn’t move her hands from his chest. “Would it be alright if I asked you to kiss me right now?” Maybe if her head wasn’t fuzzy with thoughts of his lips, she would feel embarrassed that she even suggested it. 

Her eyes met his and his breathing stopped. Maybe he didn’t hear her right. Maybe his brain was playing tricks on him because she looked divine in that dress. But those words were true to him.

A smile broke out onto his lips and he took one of her hands and placed a kiss to the top of it. “It would be my pleasure.” 

Loid broke the distance and dropped her hand and opted to cup her waist and pull her closer to him. His lips hovered just above her allowing for her to voice her desire to stop. He didn’t get it. Instead he got a pair of dark eyes blinking up at him through thick lashes and a whisper of “yes”. 

All he knew was that when his lips met hers, time stopped. The world around them melted away leaving them at the center of it. His fingers curled into her skin and he felt her moan against his lips. 

His mind became a haze as her hands found the way to his neck, pulling him closer. Everything he had ever known. Everything he had ever longed for or wanted. It was all right here. 

Their lips moved together as if they were made for one another. And while they had shared a kiss here and there for the sake of appearances, Yor could feel the shift of the cosmos telling her that this was real. 

It felt like eons as they pulled apart, but also, that it didn’t last long enough. Loid rested his forehead against hers and Yor’s eyes were still shut. 

His thumb brushed against her cheek. “Darling, if we don’t leave, we will be late.” 

“Tell me.” Yor’s hand came over the one on her cheek. “Tell me that when I open my eyes, this will be real. That we will be real.” She didn’t want to cry, but she was afraid that tears would spill if she opened her eyes and he was gone. 

“Yor.” His voice was soft. “Open your eyes.” 

She did, slowly. 

Red looked into to blue . His pupils dilated and his lips curved into a smile she would never grow tired of. 

“Even if it was suppose to be fake at the time, my vows have always remained true. Your eyes are open and all I see is my wife, real as could be, gazing at me. So please don’t worry Yor. My heart belongs to you in every way possible.” He said. And he meant every word. 

The tears she tried to keep at bay fell onto her cheeks as she listened to his words. For once she felt like enough. 

“My heart, Loid, it is for you.” She breathed out. “Every day for the rest of time.”

A small beep on his wrist forced him to look at his watch. “As much as I am loving this, and want nothing more than to stay here with you, perhaps we should make it to your party?” 

Yor hummed and nodded. 

Loid took a step back and held out his hand. “Shall we, my wife?” 

Yor giggled as she placed her gloved hand in his. “Of course, my husband.” 

----

 Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed it! 

I just want them to look into each others eyes and realize that they are each others worlds. (also this is my second fic of having the costume be Roger and Jessica but we will be ignoring that) 

If you have any ideas/ships/prompts or just want to say hi, I would love that! 

[jdiknight]

Beloved SWTOR family, if you haven't found a prompt list for your drawtober needs yet, I have just the thing for you!

I know it's called DRAWtober, but feel free to use it as inspiration to WRITE, PAINT, WHATEVER. Any medium, so long you have fun and don't stress yourself out. 💙

psst, star wars fan. you're not home in the old republic? doesn't matter. feel free to join anyway!

[reluctant-mandalore]

🍂 Fictober 🍂 Day 1: Cold Weather (Din Djarin x gn!Reader)

During the chilly fall season on a new planet, you go on an afternoon outing with the Mandalorian and his son. Though of course you forgot your coat.

Warnings: Fluff, found family, crushes, pre-relationship, little bit of flirting, not beta read Word Count: 1771 Pairing: Din Djarin x gn!Reader a/n: I slept for most of the first day and then my back was achy when I was trying to edit this. So its late. But it's here. And thats all that matters. Enjoy a fall afternoon outing with our fave clan of two. Day 2's prompt should be out later today (hopefully lmao).

“Grogu, we’ve been over this, you need to wear your coat.”

The child had huffed at the Mandalorian’s words. His large ears lowering, as he frowned and shook his head. You had watched them be trapped in this standoff for quite some time now. Neither father nor son wanted to budge. It was starting to get colder on this planet in recent days. But despite the chill—and despite his fathers lecturing—the little one had been determined to take his coat off any chance he got.

This had been his third time taking off the coat while hoping that neither of you would notice. Din had always been overprotective though, and he had been even more observant. He always had a keen eye for noticing these things, and there was nothing the child—or you—could seem to get past him.

“It’s getting colder out, and I don’t want you getting sick.” Din had tried reasoning with him. “You don’t want to get sick. Right kid?”

Grogu had huffed again. He pouted up to his father before trying to look past him over to you sitting on the bench nearby. Clearly he hoped to rally in your support to his losing battle, and most days those wide pleading eyes of his would convince you to his side in a heartbeat. Unfortunately for the child though, today you found yourself agreeing with the Mandalorian. As you had also caught yourself wishing you had remembered to bring your own coat this chilly afternoon.

Discovering that you wouldn’t be helping him, Grogu had huffed one more time, before finally allowing Din to bundle him back in the coat. The pout he wore as his father buttoned him up making you want to chuckle.

“See? It’s not so bad.” Din had patted the little one’s head after he finished with the last button. Although Grogu only sent a frown back his way, before toddling off back to the leaf pile he was playing in earlier.

The Mandalorian had watched Grogu from where he kneeled for a moment. Though soon he had stood to come back and sit next to you on the bench. He had given you a small nod as he sat, and you had returned it with your own smile. A comfortable silence had fallen between you two then, as you watched the child explore and play in the little clearing. Despite not being pleased with the coat he wore, Grogu still seemed to be enjoying himself at least. He had been throwing leaves here and there. Giggling and laughing to himself as he did so.

“I don’t understand why he doesn’t want to wear it.” After some time Din had been the first to speak, as he shifted a bit awkwardly next to you. “He was so happy picking it out in the market a few days ago, but now he wants nothing to do with it.”

You gave him a shrug. “He’s probably just not used to it—that’s all—give him some time.”

“You think so?”

“Yeah, sometimes kids are just picky with these things.” You said smiling again as you watched the child chase down a frog, struggling to keep up in his puffy jacket. “He’ll get used to it eventually.”

Din had let out a bitter sigh, but you could hear the smile in his words. “Yeah you’re right.”

“I usually am.”

He had snorted at that reply, and quickly the two of you fell back into silence. The only sound once again being that of the child's happy geal and the birds singing their sweet tunes. Another breeze had swept through, rustling the leaves and sending an icy chill to roll down your spine. Once again you had found yourself wishing you hadn’t forgotten your own coat, as you shivered and shuddered with every gust of wind that passed.

“Cold?” Din’s question had nearly made you jump, and you looked over to find him looking at you with a tilt of his helmet.

“A little.” You admitted with another shiver, now feeling a bit embarrassed while under the Mandalorian’s gaze. “I honestly didn’t think it would be this cold when we left earlier.”

He had hummed in understanding and went back to watching the child for a moment. You went back to doing so as well. Thinking that had been the end of the discussion, though soon the heavy weight that rested over your shoulders proved otherwise. The cape—his cape—that he tucked around your shivering form had enveloped you in an instant warmth. The cozy fabric making itself the perfect barrier for you from cold.

No wonder he wore this thing all the time—it was stylish and warm.

“There.” He murmured in a hushed tone, as he smoothed out some of the wrinkles in the fabric, and adjusted it around you a little more snuggly. “That should help you stay warm.”

“Thank you.” Your voice had struggled to speak, as you couldn’t help but feel yourself grow shy.

Din had been so close to you as he fixed the cape. His leg had brushed with yours at every movement, and if it weren’t for the helmet that shielded his face, you would have felt how his breath fanned your cheeks. He hadn’t seemed to realize it though until the two of you shared a glance. Your eyes locked to one another, and mere inches apart. Only then did he seem to catch himself. Clearing his throat as he pulled away and averted his gaze. A mumbled apology quickly leaving him as he did.

“Keep it till we get back.” He didn’t dare look at you as he spoke, crossing his arms over his chest awkwardly. Although you couldn’t help but notice how his leg still seemed to brush with yours every now and then. “I don’t need you getting sick either.”

You only nodded. Smiling to yourself a little, and snuggling further into the cape. Your heart feeling like it would jump out of your chest at any moment.

“You know…” He continued quietly, his voice trailing and words a bit teasing, as he had looked at you from the corner of his eye with the tilt of his helmet. “You’re just like the kid with not wanting to wear a coat.”

You gave a little laugh at his words, unable to deny his claim. “Guess I’m a bad influence then, huh?”

“No. I wouldn’t say that.” He shook his head while giving a small chuckle himself, and glancing away from you to watch the child again. “I’d say the opposite actually. You’re a great influence on the kid.”

“You think so?”

“Of course! He adores you…” Din had almost seemed to pause in thought before allowing himself to finish. “We both adore you. Things wouldn’t be the same without you around.”

There was another flutter in your chest at his words, and suddenly it wasn’t just the cape that gave you warmth. The two of you had looked to one another, unable to stop yourselves from leaning closer, as the air between you had seemed to shift. It had been hard to deny the feelings that both of you were beginning to feel for one another lately. And moments like these had only seemed to make it even harder.

“Patuu!”

The sound from Grogu had broken you both from the trance, and you both looked to find him standing before you two now. The smile he wore bright, as he held out his hands for you to see what he had found. It had been acorns—of course—the child had been fascinated with them since arriving to this planet.

“Oh! Is this for me?” The child had beamed up at you at the question when you realized he held one out to you, and with a smile you took the acorn. “What a lovely little acorn! Thank you Grogu.”

Grogu had let out a happy noise at your acceptance of his gift. His eyes bright with excitement as he watched you look over the acorn. Pleased with seeing your approval, he glanced at the other acorn still in his hand, and then looked to the Mandalorian at your side.

“Do I get one too?” Din seemed to perk up, but any hope he had died quickly as Grogu soon sent a glare his way at the question, before turning to waddle rather grumpily away back to his leaf pile.

“I think he’s still mad about the coat.” You barely managed to stop the laugh that threatened to spill from your lips at the sight.

“Yeah.” The Mandalorian almost sounded like he had been pouting, and based on how his shoulders had sunk you wouldn’t put him past it. “I guess he is”

“Oh don’t worry Din.” You patted his shoulder gently. Trying to reassure him.“He’ll forgive you soon.”

“He can be pretty stubborn.” He mumbled back. Sounding utterly defeated.

You gave a teasing hum. Nudging him with your arm a little. “He’s just like his dad then.”

“I’m not stubborn.” He had tried to argue, but any defense he had fell quickly at the look you sent his way. “I’m only stubborn when I need to be.”

The two of you shared another small laugh at that before falling back into that familiar silence and watching over the child play. The three of you would spend the rest of the afternoon out there. Only leaving when Din would finally decide it had been time to pack up, and head back to the ships. Grogu had almost fought with him over it, but unlike with the coat, he had quickly been won over with the promise of food.

Though it wouldn’t be until the next day where the little one would finally seem to have forgiven his father. This time when you three went to leave for the afternoon outing he did not fight the Mandalorian over the coat. Instead he let his father bundle him up with little complaint. Babbling in bits of gibberish, and pulling out the acorn he had found the other day. Handing it to Din with a bright smile before immediately waddling off in the direction of the clearing.

“See, Din?” You smiled at him, as you both began walking to follow behind the child. “I told you he’d forgive you.”

He had looked over the acorn. The smile he wore hidden behind the helmet. “Yeah, you were right.”

“I usually am.” You had gone to laugh, but an icy breeze had swept through as you spoke, and instead you could only seem to shiver while Din had chuckled.

Of course you had forgotten your coat again.

[captainsophiestark]

Fictober 2024!

The prompts are officially out! Woohoo!!!

I've picked up quite a few new followers since last year, so here's how this works! Below the cut is a list of the Fictober prompts, and until each of them has been claimed/assigned to a character, requests are open! Send me the number corresponding to one prompt and the name of the character you want to see it with, and I'll add it to the list! My goal, as always, is to write a fic for every day in Fictober, and October 1st is super close, so come help me fill out the prompts with some ideas! I'll update the list below as prompts get taken, so be sure to check back!

Prompts and fandoms below the cut!

Requests are open for the following fandoms: Agent Carter, Agents of SHIELD, Bridgerton, A Court of Thorns and Roses, Crescent City, DC, Marvel, Percy Jackson, The Selection Series, Star Trek, Star Wars, Top Gun, Twisters, The Vampire Diaires/The Originals

You are welcome to request characters from these fandoms I haven't written before!

Disclaimers: I haven't really kept up with the MCU since Multiverse of Madness, I haven't actually seen the PJO TV show, and I've only seen the first season of The Originals

Without further ado, the prompts:

"That was good work." - Luke Castellan

"It's been a long time." - Javi Rivera

"I know you better." - Anthony Bridgerton

"No, we're not doing that." - Finn Mikaelson

"It's a new day, let's go." - Stefan Salvatore

"I'm not giving up." - Grant Ward

"Follow me if you want to live." - Peggy Carter

"Are we happy?" - Stephen Strange

"Don't listen to me, listen to them." - Dick Grayson

"Is this normal?" - Daniel Sousa

"Well, that worked out great." - Han Solo

"Did you hear that?" - Klaus Mikaelson

"That's not the point."

"Did you stick to the plan?" - Anakin Skywalker

"Let's try this."

"No, I'm not okay." - Colin Bridgerton

"Strangest thing I ever heard." - Jack Thompson

"You always have a plan."

"This is getting ridiculous." - Wanda Maximoff

"I saw your eyes light up." - Jack Thompson

"We've done worse."

"Why are we doing this again?" - Kol Mikaelson

"We can fix this, I know we can."

"You didn't do anything wrong."

"It consumes me."

"You were the first." - Anakin Skywalker

"Let me remind you."

"Just say what you want."

"How did this happen?" - Platonic!Ahsoka Tano

"I won't let you down."

"It's always been you." - Damon Salvatore

[gali-la]

-Tober Events & Requests! 🎃🕸️🎉

i've seen a whole bunch of hype for kink/angst/whump/etc.-tober lately, and while I'm super excited to see what everyone comes up with, I don't have the time to dedicate to picking between prompts, coming up with an idea, and writing a solid fic for it. so instead, I've decided to do something different! I'd like y'all on tumblr/twitter/etc to pick for me!

For a list of fandoms im happy to write for, check out the tags below. I'm sure I forgot some, so feel free to ask!

Here's the idea:

I'll have the prompts down at the bottom ⬇️, from whichever official -tober events I find, and if you'd like to see a fic/drabble from me about it, send over an ask (or message or literally any other way you find to communicate with me works, I'll be checking everything) with the day, prompt, and a general little plot/request! Or check out the form below!! ⬇️ ⬇️

For example:

"Day 5, [prompt], [request]" Super simple! The more details given the easier it is for me, but you can gimme as little or as much as you'd like ❤️ I'll be posting 'em on the day of, so you'll know exactly when to expect a reply!

Here's my carrd if you'd like to check out my works/see what fandoms I've written for or contact me! And, finally, here's

➡️ The Form!! 🎉🔥

Fill out to your heart's content, as many requests as you please~

For a list of fandoms im happy to write for, check out the tags below. I'm sure I forgot some, so feel free to ask!

And here's the lists of prompts + links to their original posts! ⬇️

we've got: Flufftober, whumptober, angstober, cozytober, and kinktober! (in the form, I've also included prompts from previous years if you want one of those)

1. Flufftober: 🥰

2. Whumptober: 🥺

3. Angstober: 🫣

4. Cozytober (2020): 😊

5. Kinktober: 😈

[divinemissem13]

We're Gonna Be Alright

Flufftober Day 1: "I've got you" / Fictober Day 2: "Don't worry, I got you." Fandom: Star Trek Prodigy

On the long, cramped shuttle ride to Earth, Dal tries to help Gwyn through her nightmares. But who’s comforting who?

Gwyn had fallen asleep on Dal’s shoulder. Again. 

The little shuttle didn’t allow much room to move, let alone lie down to sleep. The best that any of them could do was to rest against the bulkheads and occasionally each other. Gwyn sat next to Dal and so it was only natural that her head might drift to the side as she slept and land on his shoulder. Or that his head might lean towards that weight until it dropped softly onto her head. It was just gravity. Right. It had nothing at all to do with needing each other. 

But then there were the nights, like this one, when Dal was awoken by a soft whimpering in his ear, labored breathing against his neck. Gwyn was the strongest, bravest person he knew, but even strong and brave warriors have nightmares.

The first time, the noises had woken him with a start, bumping her head from his shoulder and waking her as well. Both blushed sheepishly and avoided eye contact as they settled separately back onto the bulkhead and fell back asleep as if nothing had happened. 

But it kept happening. 

The whimpers were soft enough that only Dal could hear them (or at least, the others dutifully pretended not to hear), but the sounds of Gwyn’s distress woke him every time. He couldn’t bear to hear her suffer, even through the sleepy haze of his own dreams. After living his whole life with shields raised, he was not well practiced in the art of comforting another person. But for her, he had to at least try.

He had fumbled his way through several attempts by this point, with success levels ranging from “no effect” to “Gwyn gets angry” (the time he woke her and tried to get her to talk about the nightmares). He really wished that Janeway were there. She always gave great advice. But as things stood, he was on his own.

It was the sharp, stuttered breathing that woke him this time. This was almost worse than the whimpering because, well, breathing is important and in those moments, Dal worried that she might stop. With his opposite hand (the one closest to her was trapped between them), he reached over and gently stroked her cheek. The repetitive gesture seemed to be somewhat soothing, but it wasn’t enough. 

“Shhh, shhh, you’re ok,” he hummed against her forehead, and her breaths came steadier still. 

He was so relieved that he pressed a soft kiss to her forehead without thinking. Then it was his turn to draw in a sharp breath as his body went rigid as he realized what he had just done. Gwyn stirred and he was certain he was about to get yelled at again. Instead, she turned to her side and nuzzled further into him, wrapping her arm around him like he was a teddy bear. Dal sighed and the tension left his body as he allowed himself to just enjoy her closeness and the fact that the nightmares seemed to have passed, for now. 

His inside arm had been freed when she turned, allowing him to reach up and weave his hand delicately into her braids while his thumb gently stroked the nape of her neck.

Gwyn sighed and her grip on his arm tightened and as Dal drifted back to sleep, he could have sworn he heard her whisper, “Don’t worry, Dal. I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”

[ayarsi]

Good Omentober + Fictober (1)

Good Omentober Day 1 - pre-fall

Fictober prompt #21 - "Just in case this doesn't work." Fanfiction - Good Omens Rating - G Wordcount - 387

Stars?

------------------------------------

"What's this for?"

A gray formation sprung from the ground, seemingly carefully constructed into a hollow sphere cut in half.

The angel moved close and peered into it.

It didn't have much depth. The inside was smooth and its external surface was embellished with lines and curves forming figures that encircled the whole area. Nothing was in it, but then again, God hadn't started creating anything else yet.

"It's a fountain, I believe," another angel answered, acknowledging the first angel's presence.

"What do you put in it? Surely, it wouldn't just be there and not-"

A book abruptly placed in the first angel's hands cut them short. The second angel, without ever glancing up from what looked like a thin stack of papers on a thin board, told the first of their task.

Millions of things to do, make, create. The book was almost thick enough to resemble their layers of clothing. Although there were many creations much more important to list, one caught the angel's eyes. Stars.

Stars?

"So these star things, what purpose do they have?"

"Not entirely sure, but they help make the immeasurable universe even more immeasurable. I think. You don't have to ask questions, you know, you just have to do what you're told."

"But I want to know why. Why we're told to do it, why I need to do it, and why it has to be done at all. You know, just in case this doesn't all work."

"Don't question it. This is God's Great Plan and you cannot and shall not..." The second angel's voice trailed off.

The first angel was completely mesmerized by the idea of creating these luminous, fiery stars that they had forgotten they even asked a question on what those were. They just knew they wanted to find out and see for themselves. The angel knew that somehow, their questions would be answered if they looked for it themselves.

The second angel had gone off to find other angels to instruct, and so the first was alone. They examined the fountain once more, wondering whether it was alright to touch it, and sat on the flat surface. In their hands was a book that needed some more flipping through but their eyes showed a sparkle that meant the stars would be the only thing they would focus on.

[underratedbananawerewolf]

Fictober Day 2

Prompt 2: "Don't worry, I got you." 

Fandom: Honkai Star Rail 

Rating: G 

Warnings: None 

Yanqing knew what people said about him and his relationship with General Jing Yuan. His first conscious memory had been of the General teaching him how to hold a sword. He had no memory of his actual parents and Jing Yuan never spoke of them. Of course, Yanqing had never asked either. The man who had raised him was the only parent he needed.  

But even at eight years old, he knew what people said about him, about how they disapproved of Jing Yuan taking him in, training him, encouraging him to be the best he could be. He had never shown any reaction to the unkind whispers or the open statements that disagreed with his choice to raise Yanqing. He ignored them for the most part from what Yanqing had seen. The most he had done that the boy witnessed was coolly dismiss the objections that were raised to his face.  

It was that defense, the willingness to teach and simply the kindness and care that the general regularly showed Yanqing that made him idolize the man all the more and want to do everything he could to prove the naysayers wrong. He would prove that the only father he remembered had made the right choice in adopting him.  

However, the dynamic between had changed once Yanqing had begun training in earnest, when he realized the protests behind his presence in the Seat of Divine Foresight. Before, in his vague shadowy memories of a toddler, he remembered running to Jing Yuan eager to hug and to be carried by him. If he thought hard enough about it, he remembered being held while they both took a nap.  

That had all changed now. Yanqing needed to prove that all the efforts and accomplishments he made were his own and not some level of favoritism as rumor suggested. And yet there were times when he yearned for that affection again, wanting to be loved instead of having to stand on his own. It was a weakness he couldn’t allow himself however, not now.  

A sharp voice broke him out of his thoughts and away from the wooden practice sword he was with. “It’s the General’s little lap dog. How are you, lapdog?”  

Yanqing looked up to see a group of boys just a bit older than him, most of them larger than himself. He tried to remind himself that he needed to pick his battles and picking a fight with bullies was hardly one worthy of what Jing Yuan was teaching him. Instead, he chose to try and be polite. If they didn’t get the reaction maybe they’d just go away, and he could get back to his sword dances. “Can I help you?”  

“I doubt it.” Another boy spoke up. “You’d have to run back home to the general like a baby if we asked anything from you.”  

Yanqing felt his cheeks flush in embarrassed anger. He might have been small for his age, but he wasn’t a cowardly child to flee. 

“You have to wonder what he sees in his lapdog here to spend so much time with him instead of at the Seat of Divine Foresight.” The third smirked. “Maybe he really is going senile.”  

That was enough. Yanqing could take insults for himself. Words meant nothing, turned him into nothing they said. But nobody disrespected Jing Yuan in front of him like that. With a snarl, he leapt at the trio to strike with whatever he could, fists, sword, feet, you name it.  

In the end, despite his training and ferocity, he was still outnumbered and still smaller than his opponents. He was left to limp his way home after an approaching patrol spooked them. Yanqing had slipped away before the knights could see him and take him home themselves. He was only just holding back tears that threatened to fall, both from the pain of bruises as well as the shame of having lost. He hoped, at least, to compose himself before Jing Yuan saw the miserable shape he was in. He could probably come up with some excuse if he wasn’t on the verge of tears. He wouldn’t cry; he couldn’t. Not now.  

Unfortunately, his wishes were unheeded as he pushed the door open to let himself inside the estate. A low voice called out to him and given the concern that laced it, he knew that Jing Yuan had seen him. Looking up, he met the man’s eyes and swallowed. “S-sir.”  

Jing Yuan frowned as he stepped closer, leaning down to examine the appearing bruises, the split lip and the beginnings of a black eye. “What happened, Yanqing.” he asked softly.  

“I was just tr-training. It’s fine.” The boy answered, swallowing hard and trying to make his voice sound surer than he actually was.  

A sigh and a heavy hand gently reached out to cup his chin, turning his face to one side and then the other as the man examined him. “You were in a fight.” He rumbled. “What happened.”  

“No, it was just practice. I promise.”  

“Don’t lie to me, Yanqing.” A smile touched Jing Yuan’s lips as usual although it didn’t reach his eyes. Instead, there was only concern there. “I’m too old to not recognize the signs. Who did this to you?”  

With a sigh, Yanqing finally surrendered. His eyes remained fixed on the ground as he related what had happened although he omitted any names. Aeons forbid that word got out that he was a snitch. “...I’m sorry, sir. I couldn’t beat them.”  

Jing Yuan sighed again. “I care little about what public opinion is regarding me. People will say cruel things regardless of how you act, and I have lived long enough to learn that. You’d be wise to learn how to do the same if you want to spare yourself anguish.” He pulled Yanqing forward, enveloping him in an embrace; something he hadn’t done for a while. “Everything I do is for the safety of the Luofu and you.” 

The boy fleetingly considered pulling away but, in the end, chose to take the comfort offered, burying his face into his broad chest. Tears stung Yanqing’s eyes, a few managing to leak out and to dampen the shirt of the man who held him.  

The rumbling voice was more felt than heard, a promise that meant more to him than anything else at the moment. “I’ve got you, Yanqing. You don’t need to worry. You’ll always have a place with me.” 

[coffee-in-that-nebula]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Star Trek: Voyager Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Tom Paris/B'Elanna Torres, Tom Paris & B'Elanna Torres Characters: Tom Paris, B'Elanna Torres Additional Tags: Established Relationship, Depression, References to Depression, Feelings, Light Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode: s05e03 Extreme Risk, Post Extreme Risk, Mental Health Issues Summary:

My response to fictober's 2nd prompt: Don't worry, I got you.

It takes place in season 5 after "Extreme Risk". B'Elanna struggles with her depression and Tom is there for her.

[highlyillogicalandroid]

Happy Fictober!

This will be a masterpost of all my fics, starting with...

Day 1: I chose you — a Pike/Spock fic

[lipstickonmylabcoat]

Belated haikus for Fictober 2022 @fictober-event prompts 17 - 31. Fan Fiction from the Star Trek universe 🖖 Ratings G-M

Are You Serious?

A Seven x B’Elanna haiku

Intrigue

A Garak x Julian haiku

The Deal

A Michael x Mirror Georgiou haiku

Only Us

A Michael x Philippa haiku

Despite the Lie, Charm Succeeds

A Garak x Julian haiku

Ram It!

A Mariner & Captain Freeman haiku

Not On My Watch!

A Janeway x Seven haiku

Is This Safe?

A Number One x Chapel haiku

Don’t Let Me Go

A Michael x Philippa haiku

I’m Doing It!

A Harry & Tom Captain Proton haiku

The Real Goal

A Janeway & Seven haiku

Reasons

A Garak x Julian haiku

Embarrassment

A B’Elanna x Seven haiku

Caught

A Number One x Chapel haiku

Not Alone

A Janeway x original female character haiku

[tangleweave]

Truth and Consequences

Fictober 2022 - [ Prompt 18 ]

{ Fanfiction: Star Wars (KOTOR II) }

“I met someone on Nar Shaddaa who says he knows you.”

Atton doesn’t even glance up from the console, but a scoff erupts from between his teeth. “Yeah? That’s a surprise, since I can’t say I really know anyone there.”

“Wed Mikpokaq.”

The gunslinger’s fingers had been in the midst of keystroke inputs, but he hesitates for half a moment before continuing his sequence. “Let me guess, he said I owe him money, too.”

“He says that you’re not ‘Atton’ at all. That you showed up on Nar Shaddaa during the Jedi Civil War.”

The pilot’s eyes flash, and he turns in his seat to face his anonymous companion. “I’m as Atton as Atton will ever be,” he snaps, “but since we’re going here, you caught me, he’s right, I did show up on Nar Shaddaa during the Jedi Civil War. Me and a lot of other refugees.”

The other remains impassive. “Is there anything you want to tell me?”

Atton’s eyes narrow. “No, because you’re asking about it – if I wanted to tell you anything, I would have come and told you. Anything else?”

“You seem terribly on edge for having been approached with hearsay. And you’ve been curiously avoidant of discussing anything about yourself before we met.”

Atton gets to his feet, though he shifts gingerly past the Force-sensitive traveler as he makes his way to the navigational panel. He keeps his eyes directed away from the other. “Is this an interrogation? If so, you’re terrible at it, especially for an ex-Jedi – or whatever you are.” Now he shoots a glare across the cockpit. “Why don’t you just crawl in my head and try to dig out whatever you’re looking for rather than asking about it?”

“Because I know better than to think of you as weak-minded.” Thick-gloved hands settle on hips as an icy stare meets Atton in reply. “And if you’ve got a problem, let’s settle it right now.”

Atton blows an irritated breath out through his teeth. “You know what?” He steps close and directs a finger into the exile’s face. “I helped you get off Peragus. If I hadn’t been there, you wouldn’t have even gotten off the administration level. And I’m still trying to help you now, but you’re making me wonder why I’m bothering.”

The exile’s face is maddeningly placid. “With or without your help on Peragus, the Sith still would have come to capture me.”

Atton scowls. There’s little he hates more than a fact he can’t challenge. “Yeah, well… I – I still helped you. Sort of.” He takes a step back and straightens his jacket. “Maybe you shouldn’t look a free ronto in the mouth before you buy it.” His business concluded at the star chart readout, he steps back towards the pilot’s seat.

“You should if a Hutt is giving it to you.”

Now he rounds on the exile, eyes burning and voice thick with contempt. “Hey, not once have I asked you about the Mandalorian Wars. Not… once.” He clutches the head cushion of his chair until his knuckles turn white. “I know about Dxun. I know about Serroco, and I sure as hell heard about Malachor V.” Normally he would let that point hang heavy in the air, but he’s on too much of a furious roll to stop. “So, what makes you think you’ve got the right to interrogate me on anything? You’ve got plenty of lives to answer for.” He sneers as he sits down and turns away from his companion, knowing full well the risk he takes in doing so. “All you Jedi do.”

Though Atton bites the title off as a slur rather than an honorific, and though it is a title the exile has been plain about having renounced, it slides without comment or challenge. It is clear to the former Jedi that just this mere line of questioning has somehow struck Atton to the heart, pierced it as though upon a lightsaber blade and reduced it to so much sweet smoke and ash.

“If there’s something you want me to answer for… then perhaps you should start by asking questions.”

Atoon spins around in his chair again. His gaze is nothing short of baleful. “Fine,” he snaps. “Fine. Here, let’s start with this. How did you even live with yourself after Malachor?”

The exile’s lips purse, a gesture followed by a head bow and a soft reply. “It wasn’t easy.”

“Oh, yes, not easy. It wasn’t easy for you. I’m sure it wasn’t.” Atton leans forward in his seat, intent on pressing his advantage in passion. “Is that why you went back to the Jedi Council? Hoping they’d kill you?”

The Force-sensitive’s eyes flicker towards the pilot. “It wasn’t like that.”

The feeble protest only drew more heat from Atton. “Wasn’t it? Maybe you thought they’d forgive you – or maybe you thought they’d execute you. But Jedi don’t kill, do they? At least, not their prisoners. Maybe you were counting on that when you went back in chains. So you got off easy. Exiled, brushed under the cargo ramp, another dirty little Jedi secret.”

His eyes become slits. “I’ll tell you this – all those Jedi at Malachor? They deserved it. Every last one of them.”

That draws a sharp breath from beneath the Force-sensitive’s hood. What emerges next is little more than a whisper. “They did not deserve it. Why would you even say that?”

Atton feels a surge of twisted triumph coursing through his veins as he stands up. Beside his companion, he might be equal height, give or take a couple centimeters, but their eyes are at the same level, and he stares unblinkingly into those stricken pools. “Because Jedi lie,” he charges. “And they manipulate. And every act of charity or kindness they do? You can drag it out squirming into the light and see it for what it is. The galaxy doesn’t need Jedi arrogance or Jedi hypocrisy anymore.”

The anonymous exile’s breath shudders out between them. “The Jedi Order was misguided… but the Jedi always meant to be guardians of peace.”

“Oh, come off it,” Atton scoffs. “Listen to yourself. The Jedi… the Sith… to the galaxy, they’re the same thing: just men and women with too much power, squabbling over religion, while the rest of us burn. At least the Sith are honest about what they’re killing for. They come to conquer. Obey or die. The Jedi? The Jedi are pacifists… except in times of war. They’re teachers… except when it comes to telling their students the truth. And when they save you, it’s only so they can see you suffer more.”

The traveler’s eyes burn with unshed tears. “Perhaps that is what you believe, but it is not my truth.”

“I can’t wait to hear what your truth is,” the scoundrel scoffs.

“My truth is… I pity you, Atton, that you should still harbor such embitterment and hatred, so long after those you deemed your enemies have perished. And I am no Jedi… not just because of what happened at Malachor, but for all that came before it. I returned to the Council to answer for my actions, and to renounce what would have been taken from me in any event. Perhaps I wished for death. I can no longer recall. Instead, I endure, and that is all I have left.”

Atton clenches his teeth. If there is anything he hates more than logic, it’s a person who refuses to be baited. Maybe he should simply drive his fist into the exile’s face and see if that would provoke a reaction. It would be so easy…

But instead, he rolls his eyes and steps back. “Whatever – just leave me alone. I don’t know why I’m wasting time with you anyway.”

He slumps back into the pilot’s seat, turning his gaze to the starscape before them. He can feel a tightness in his chest that tells him he’s run a marathon in this conversation alone… and he no longer feels that momentary satisfaction he got from seeing the tears in the exile’s eyes. Not a one had been released.

Maybe there’s just not enough left to give.

In the stifling quiet of the cockpit, Atton hears the exile’s voice lift over the hum of the engines. “You speak of your contempt for the Jedi who perished at Malachor V but you stop short of wishing the same fate for me. You deride Jedi pacifism, which tells me you held the Order in contempt for staying our ranks when the Mandalorian Wars threatened the Outer Rim… yet you say those Jedi who answered the call to action in defense of those territories deserved grisly death. You call Jedi arrogant and hypocritical, but are these features not systemic of any assemblage of beings which would dare to promote something greater than its constituent parts?”

Atton leans forward, arms parallel to one another as he grips the top of the console, and he hovers the tip of his nose above the screen, nearly huddling. “I’m sure you’re gonna tell me what you’re driving at.”

“It would be a terrible convenience if everything you claim about the Jedi were objectively true. If all is as you see it. But I believe you realize, because you must… that reality is far different from what you wish it to be. Moreover… as I examine it, nothing of which the Jedi stand accused in your tirade has any bearing on your past, save that you were a refugee during the Jedi Civil War. And for reasons I cannot discern, you remain a steadfast companion to me in my travels despite your contempt for my history… and my so-called ‘interrogations’.”

“Yeah, well, when you don’t have anywhere else to go…”

“No, Atton. It is more than that. It must be. The Jedi Order was arrogant, and terrible prices were paid by many who could not afford the coin. The atrocity of Malachor V is upon my shoulders… but…” The exile trails off.

The pilot frowns and lifts his head. “But what?”

“I don’t think this is your problem.”

Atton’s frown deepens at that remark. And he struggles for several moments to think of something to say in reply.

But even before he can begin to put any words together, the exile has already left the cockpit.

~*~

[reluctant-mandalore]

Fictober Day 2: Dancing

After a job Boba and Ann go to celebrate at a cantina. Ann is into dancing, Boba is into watching.

Warnings: established relationship (sort of its complicated), alcohol consumption, references to sex (none is actually described or shown), fluff, flirting, set pre-sarlacc, soft boba, hint of jealous Boba, aro4aro relationship, not beta read Pairing: Boba Fett x Original Character (oc: Anneliese LeClaire) Wordcount: 3,433 a/n: "hey cy did you know its December-" shhhh time is an illusion. And I am slowly working back into writing more often (mental illness is a bitch). Also this is my first time actually posting a fic for Ann and Boba. Sometime next year I would like to finally begin posting the official longfic I've been working on for them, but till then y'all will get some one shots here and there. Important things to note: Ann and Boba are both written as aro and they're in an aro4aro relationship. Ann is taller (5'10) then Boba, I wrote Boba as being 5'7 (based off Temuera's height). This one shot is also set pre-sarlacc, some years before he falls in. Ok thats it. Enjoy boba being soft and sweet with ann. :3 Translations: Mesh'la = Beatuiful, Permacrete = concrete

The cantina has an awful smell. It’s an atrocious blend of booze and sweat that makes his nose scrunch with disgust. Though the music is somehow worse. It's too loud in his ears, blasting its obnoxious tunes while the colourful lights above flash to its beat. This place is more of a nightclub than a regular old cantina in his opinion. Neither of which he really enjoys on a good day if he’s honest, but still he sits there anyway. A cup of whiskey is in his hand, and his helmet set to the side, while his eyes are trained on nothing but her. 

Ann is on the dance floor. There’s a smile on her face, and her own drink in hand. Her body moves and sways to the tunes almost naturally. Weaving among the others on the floor like there’s nowhere else she belongs.

 She almost seems to thrive here. Unlike him who seems out of place, and preferring to sit in a dark corner at a lonely table. He just doesn’t understand the appeal that places like this give. He really isn’t a fan of blaring music and sweaty bodies in his personal space bumping together. Unless it's among the sheets at least—and even that he’s only fond of sometimes. 

It doesn’t take long for someone to take an interest in her. Someone other than Boba of course. Someone always does when they come to these places. And he can feel himself pause mid-sip, as he watches the person move in closer to her. A bit too close for his liking. The two of them begin to dance together rather than alone, and he can’t help but watch a little more intensely now as they do. A pit of jealousy bubbling in his gut that he tries his best to ignore.

 Boba knows he could just look away. Knows he doesn’t have to watch. Knows he has no reason to be jealous. Dancing like this means nothing to Ann. She barely even lets the other person in close enough touch. But despite the jealousy he fails miserably to keep back, there’s also something he finds enjoyable in watching her dance. He’s not even sure what it is. Maybe it has to do with how the lights reflect in her eyes as she laughs, or how beautiful her body moves with the others around her. But maybe, it is sometime else entirely. 

Maybe it's because as he watches, he imagines it's him dancing with her instead. 

Ann notices him watching, because of course she does, and she gives a smile. A teasing, but tiny grin, that's meant for him alone. It's a look that calms his envious thoughts, and leaves him suddenly feeling hot under his armor. The bit of jealousy he had fading into a rolling wave of desire. He almost smiles back. Almost. But he takes another sip of his drink instead. Let’s the bittersweet taste settle on his tongue to try and wash away his thoughts. 

It doesn’t really work of course. Boba goes back to watching. Goes back to wondering—dreaming—about what it would be like if he was the one with her instead. He can’t seem to stop himself. Can’t stop the thoughts of how he’d look out there with her. How close she’d be to him. How breathtaking she looks. It's all swarming there in his head. A never ending tumble of thoughts and emotions that keeps him captivated with her. 

At some point the person dancing with her leans closer to whisper in her ear, and suddenly he finds himself fighting off the subtle burn of jealousy again. He doesn’t even need to hear their words to know what they’re asking of her. He can’t even blame them for trying their luck, because he knows if he was in their position he would do the same. He’d honestly be surprised if they didn’t try to get Ann to come home with them that night. Not after how gorgeous she looked dancing in the nightclub lights. 

Though unlike them, at least he knows he would actually have a chance. And that thought alone is what keeps him seated in place. Helps the jealousy fade again. Reminds him that he doesn't have to worry. Not with Ann. It makes him go back to just simply watching. Waiting for the answer from her that he already knows is coming. 

Ann seems to say something back to them. Something he can’t quite make out, but he figures it out quickly when the dance partner finally looks his way. He almost wants to laugh at the face they make. Their smug grin drops immediately and the colour drains from their face. Most do once they realize just who exactly she’s with. His name carries weight, and if they don’t know him by name, they know him by face. Well. Helmet. And he’s made sure that trusty bucket of his is still clearly in sight. 

The rumours about them have become more prevalent as of late too. People have begun to learn about Ann and Boba being… together. So to speak. The longer they worked alongside each other, the quicker the whispers among the criminal world about them being a couple had spread. Rumours about how they were more than just work partners catching before either could stop them in their place. 

Boba doesn’t know how he feels about it all. At the start he hated them. Found Ann pretty annoying. Found the whispers about them together even more annoying. She was just a work partner. A skilled bounty hunter who he respected, and found he could deal with despite the irritability she caused. That was it. That's all they were. 

Now it’s different of course. They’re a thing, but they’re also not a thing. Neither of them really know what they are to the other person. Especially not Boba. Most people would probably consider them lovers, and in a sense he supposes they are right to think so, but lovers feel almost too formal. But just friends? That seems to be too little. And just work partners at this point was just insulting. The bond they shared simply couldn’t be explained as being romantic or platonic. It was different. Unique. Something he hadn’t ever had with another person before. 

Boba doesn’t really know what they are, but whatever it is makes Ann his, and makes him theirs. And he supposes that’s all that really matters. At least to them. To him. 

The person Ann was with has vanished by the time he looks back, and she’s already returning to the table. Sliding into the seat across from him, with her cheeks flushed and a little grin on her face. “You scared away my dance partner.” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He gives her a little smile in return, and taps his finger on the table. “I’ve just been here minding my business, and sipping at my drink.” 

She only hums at first. Stealing his cup right from out of his hands before taking a sip herself. He doesn’t really mind. He can’t really when he sees how her nose scrunches at the taste. A deep chuckle leaving him at the sight. 

“Whiskey? Again?” She grumbles. Disgusted. 

“Of course.” 

“You need better taste.” She lets him take the glass back, as he hums amused at her words. 

“I think my taste is just fine.” He murmurs, glancing over the rim of the drink to flicker his gaze over her form, before he goes and takes another sip. She doesn’t seem to notice his once over, or if she does she doesn’t say so. “You all tired out?” 

“I think I have a few more songs left.” 

“Want me to get you another drink then?” He offers, and she agrees with a nod. He waves down a waiter. Orders another one for both of them. Something sweet and just barely alcoholic for her. She’s had more than enough to drink tonight, and he’s thankful she doesn’t seem to protest at the choice he makes. When he’s done and the waiter leaves he turns back to her. “Anything else I can do for you, mesh’la?” 

The nickname rolls off easily from his tongue. She doesn’t know what it means, or at least he believes she doesn’t seem to know. He wouldn't be able to bare the thought if she did. Doesn’t think he could ever handle the teasing she’d subject him to if she found out he’s been calling her beautiful this whole time. He’d honestly rather die than have to deal with that. 

She seems to consider his words for a moment, before finally leaning forward to rest on her arms. Her smile bright, and almost suggestive. “Well, you could come dance with me?”

It’s a question they’re both familiar with. One she always makes sure to ask when they’re out together and she’s in a dancing mood. Though his answer never seems to change. No matter how many times they come to these places, and no matter how desperately they both want him to say yes, his reply is always the same. Always. 

“No.” He shakes his head, glancing down to his almost empty drink to avoid her gaze. He really needs another with the night they’re having. “You know I don’t dance.” 

She hums again. Gives a little shrug. “Suit yourself.”

And that’s that. She’s not upset or mad. It’s just simple acceptance. An understanding that only she could ever seem to have for him. 

When the waiter comes back with what he ordered for them, she stays to drink a little with him. Chatting about this and that. Nothing really in particular. It isn’t until she’s done her drink where she goes to leave again. Standing, she leans in close to him. Catching him off guard. She kisses his cheek before he can begin to question her over it. Her lips grazing his ear as she whispers. 

“Enjoy the show Boba.” 

Then with that Ann is gone again. They’re back to the dance floor before he can say anything else. Not even giving him any chance to deny that he’s been watching her. He finds himself feeling warm under his layers again. His desire still flickering in his gut. And despite it all he does exactly as she says. He begins watching her again. He enjoys the show she puts on for him. Sipping at his drink and eyeing her up as she dances the night away. 

Thankfully it’s only a few more songs before they both leave. He wasn’t sure how much more he could have handled that place if he was being honest. Even if he was enjoying watching her. 

Ann and him walk back to the ship in a comfortable silence. Not a word to be exchanged. She’s leaning closer to him. Fingers brushing with his as they walk, but never daring to take his hands into hers. She would never do so in public. Always making sure to never overstep with him. Something he’s always more than appreciated. 

When they finally get back to the ship Bubbles the loth cat greets them happily. Meowing and rubbing against their legs, before Ann picks him up to coo at him. They both need to shower. So he lets her go first. He usually does. Sometimes they’ll shower together, but he doesn’t think he has the energy to deal with showering with Ann tonight. He has a feeling if he does it’ll end in more than just getting clean. And as fun as that can be, his exhaustion from their earlier job, combined with the alcohol raging through his system, is now proving much stronger. Maybe another night he’ll join her, but for now he just wants to relax. 

When she’s in the refresher, he starts his typical nighttime routine. He has a list of things he does before bed every day. Doesn’t feel good going to sleep unless he does it. He does a quick check of the supplies, looks at the status of the ship, and then makes sure everything is where it's supposed to be on board. Once satisfied with that he goes to his weapon racks and storage. Puts away most of what he has on him before moving on to his room to start removing his armor. Making sure to give Bubbles a pat on his head in passing. 

Once Ann is done it's his turn for a shower, and he couldn’t be happier for it. The warm water brings a much needed relief to his aching muscles, and the steam seems to clear his head. He can't help but stand there under the spray for a moment. He can still smell her soap in the air. It’s some type of flower. Rose, he thinks, though he can’t really be sure. He’s not exactly a floral expert after all. But whatever it may be is unmistakably her, and it has him wanting to finish cleaning himself quickly to join her  back in the other room. 

Ann is on his bed when he finally gets out. She sleeps more in here with him than she ever does in her own bunk now. She’s braiding her hair at the moment, and he can’t help but notice she’s wearing one of his shirts again. Bubbles is curled next to her on the bed. Already fast asleep. His soft little purrs echoing quietly in the room. 

He gets himself changed into some sleepwear. Just a simple shirt and pants. Doesn’t even bother to hide himself from her as he does. They both have already seen every inch of each other by this point. He doesn’t see the point in being shy now, and he can’t deny that he likes feeling her gaze shift to him as he dresses.

Boba spares her a glance over his shoulder, and she looks away. Acts as if she wasn’t just watching him change. It seems like he isn’t the only one who likes to watch the other, and he can’t help but smirk a little at the thought. He goes back to finishing his nightly routine after he’s done. Double checks that his armor and gear is stored away how he likes it, before doing his final round of the ship. It's like second nature at this point. The way he does this every night, and knows exactly how everything ought to be on board. 

When he's back in the room again she’s now resting much more comfortably on the bed. She’s leaned back against a pillow while on her datapad. Reading probably if he were to guess. She likes reading. Does so every night before sleeping. He doesn’t dare ask what it’s about. The last time he did he had to listen to her ramble about the creation and history behind permacrete for hours. And as much as he enjoys seeing how excited she gets to talk about these things with him, he can’t say he wants to listen to something like that again right before sleeping. 

Usually at this point he’d have her shift over so he can join her on the bed. It's kind of cramped if he’s honest. His sleeping compartment was clearly not meant for two people. They make it work though, and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t like getting to be snuggled closely to Ann every night. But tonight something stops him before he goes over. There’s a weird feeling in his gut. Like something just isn’t quite right. 

Boba mentally checks off everything from his routine in his head again. He hasn’t missed anything. Doesn’t think so at least. He never misses anything. But still he can’t shake that feeling. Ann must notice his unease too. She glances up at him from the datapad. Her brows creased as she eyes him. 

He decides to do another walkthrough. Maybe if he does he’ll figure out what’s wrong. But he doesn’t even get to the door of his room before he stops again. From the corner of the eye he’s caught sight of his stereo. It’s an old thing that he surprises that still works. He plays it sometimes when working around the ship. Glancing from it to Ann, who is once again back to reading whatever is on her datapad, seems to make everything click into place. Suddenly the weird feeling is beginning to make sense. 

Boba doesn’t really know what’s come over him, but before he can stop himself, he’s stepping over to the stereo to turn it on. The music is slow as it starts. It’s soft, gentle, and it’s nothing like what was playing at the cantina that night. It’s exactly what he needs though, and when he looks to her again to catch her gaze, he knows it's something she needed as well. 

She raises a brow at him with a little grin on her face. He doesn’t say anything. Neither does she. He just holds out a hand to her. A silent question that both of them already know the answer to. 

“I thought you didn’t dance.” She teases him, but still she takes his hand. Datapad already long forgotten on the bed. 

Boba only lets out a huff at her words as he pulls her close to his chest. His hands slip down to her hips, while her own go to rest on his forearm. He can’t help but give her a gentle squeeze, before they settle into the music easily. Swaying together to the beat, and bodies pressed flushed together. 

The two move like this for a while. Sometimes he twirls her, and she giggles, before he pulls her back in closely. Rocking with her to a gentle beat. At some point they both look at each other. Their noses brushing before their lips finally meet. The kiss is soft. It’s sweet. The thundering of his heart is so loud in his ears, and he briefly wonders if she can hear it too. Hopes she can’t, because if she can he would never live it down. He already knows that she would tease him mercilessly for the rest of his days. 

When they pull back from the kiss he allows his lips to trail down over her exposed skin. Kissing and nipping at her shoulder gently. He can’t help but nuzzle himself into the crook of her neck. Pressing another soft kiss along the scarred skin there as he does. Her shoulder quickly becoming a pillow for him to lay his head against, as he can’t help but slump against her. He feels so very tired, and she is so very comfy. His eyes are heavy, and his body is sore. He wants nothing more than to lay down with her in their bed, but he still finds himself not wanting to leave her embrace quite yet. 

“Someone's tired.” She whispers with a gentle hum. Her fingers coming to brush through his still damp hair. 

Boba can only seem to grunt in reply at first. They’re still dancing, though they sway more gently than before now. Only little rocking movements led by Ann that has him almost lulled to sleep against her shoulder right there. At some point they stop swaying altogether. Just standing there with him snuggled into her embrace as the music still plays softly in the background. 

Boba could spend the rest of his life here he thinks. Wrapped in Ann’s arms without a care in the Galaxy. Her toying with his hair and pressing sweet little kisses to his temple. In their arms he doesn’t have to worry about anything. Not clients or targets. Not the reputation he’s built and has to uphold. Here he isn’t Boba Fett, the fearsome and notorious bounty hunter. No, here with Ann he is just Boba. He’s just himself. And that is something he can only ever comfortably be with her. 

After some time there, Ann goes to pull away, but his grip holds fast. His arms around her tight. When he looks up to her he sees how she smiles again. It’s cheeky, and there’s a teasing glint to her eyes that makes him warm under her gaze.  

“A little longer.” He says quietly. Mumbling as he nuzzles back into her neck. “Please.” 

She only hums back at first. Presses another kiss to his temple as she does. So soft and sweet. Her voice coming out just barely above a whisper when she finally replies back to him. 

“A little longer.” 

And with those words from her they're swaying again.

[captainsophiestark]

Fictober 2020 Masterlist

My first year of doing Fictober! The last fic didn't get posted until January 26th, 2021 lol, but I did get one for every prompt day! 21 characters for 5 fandoms in a little less than 4 months 😄 Fics linked below the cut!

Day One - Anakin Skywalker - Catch Me If You Can

Day Two - Jim Kirk - The Easy Part

Day Three - Klaus Mikaelson - Fairy Lights

Day Four - Grant Ward - Tranquilizer

Day Five - Theseus Scamander - Unacceptable

Day Six - Clint Barton - Trick Shot

Day Seven - Elijah Mikaelson - Diplomacy

Day Eight - Steve Rogers - Keep In Touch

Day Nine - Stefan Salvatore - Study Break

Day Ten - Grant Ward - Leave

Day Eleven - Jack Thompson - Told You

Day Twelve - Han Solo - Buckle Up

Day Thirteen - Kol Mikaelson - Returned

Day Fourteen - Poe Dameron - Smooth Talker

Day Fifteen - Klaus Mikaelson - Mental Block

Day Sixteen - Peter Parker - Anniversary

Day Seventeen - Harley Keener - Sixties

Day Eighteen - Percy Weasley - Clouds

Day Nineteen - Grant Ward - Dream Team

Day Twenty - Draco Malfoy - Crocs

Day Twenty-One - Poe Dameron - Worth It

Day Twenty-Two - Bones McCoy - Storage

Day Twenty-Three - Poe Dameron - Snore

Day Twenty-Four - Anakin Skywalker - Responsibility

Day Twenty-Five - Jim Kirk - Starlight

Day Twenty-Six - Daniel Sousa - Plan B

Day Twenty-Seven - Anakin Skywalker - Break Time

Day Twenty-Eight - Grant Ward - Truth Serum

Day Twenty-Nine - Pavel Chekov - Heads Up

Day Thirty - Obi-Wan Kenobi - Love

Day Thirty-One - Jack Thompson - Newspaper

[perseusparker]

Fictober Day Three: That was not my intention

Fandom: Star Trek

Pairing: Spirk (Spock / Kirk)

Warnings: swearing

The USS Enterprise was out on another mission, exploring the far reaches of the galaxy for new and interesting planets. They had already discovered a planet with shiny blue grass, elegant purple trees, and a pale yellow sky; the air smelled like something akin to eucalyptus and mint. After some exploration and documentation for Starfleet, they had left it, off in search of another planet. The Enterprise was currently moving through space at a semi- leisurely pace. On the outside, everything seemed quiet, peaceful.

Captain Jim Kirk's private quarters were not, however. The young captain was standing opposite his first officer, hands running through his blond hair in frustration. The Vulcan, as ever, maintained a neutral expression.

"You told Bones I was injured on the last planet! What the hell, Spock! Now he wants you to give him updates on my health in general, since I 'can't be trusted', like I'm a child. Did you want that?" Kirk hated the med bay. Spock knew that. It was a minor injury, a sprained ankle from a bad jump and subsequent landing. He was fine.

"That was not my intention. I merely wished to inform Dr McCoy so he could provide adequate medical treatment."  Spock was used to Jim trying to get out of medical treatment, but the ankle needed to be looked at. He was the captain and he needed to be in the best health possible. And Dr McCoy needed all health information for each member of the Enterprise, but especially Kirk's, since he is Captain went out on most missions

"My ankle is fine! I already had it wrapped." Kirk replied angrily. The prolonged standing was hurting Jim's ankle, but he didn't want the Vulcan to know. However, the Vulcan missed nothing and noticed when his weight shifted more to favor the injury. "Sit down, Jim. I will get you an ice pack." Jim was about to retort but a look from Spock changed his mind. Begrudgingly, he limped over to the bed and sat down. Spock walked over a moment later and handed him an ice pack. Jim took it and placed it on his ankle without looking up. "I will only tell Dr McCoy about injuries I feel worth to report, Jim" Spock said. No reply from the man sitting in front of him. "You are my partner, Jim. I care about your well being," Spock spoke this part softly, a hint of emotion in his voice.

"Fine." Kirk paused. "I love you, too, Spock."

[divinemissem13]

Unspoken

Fictober, day 21: "Just in case this doesn't work" Fandom: Star Trek Voyager Ship: Janeway/ Chakotay AO3

----- “Just in case this doesn’t work…” Kathryn trails off and her brief hesitation is all Chakotay needs to hear to know he should stop her. 

“You don’t have to say anything.”

“I do. Chakotay, I need you to know, in case…”

“Kathryn, I already know.”

“You do?” She looks up at him through long lashes. 

“Of course. I’ve known for years.”

“Oh.” Kathryn looks taken aback, her mouth retaining the shape of the simple word.

“I didn’t realize I was so transparent,” she admits, even as they hold a silent conversation with their eyes, just like always.

“Only to me,” he says with a soft smile, and unconsciously, her eyes dart between his curling lips and his deep, warm coffee-colored eyes.  

Their eyes continue to speak volumes, but the room remains silent. 

“Are you with me?” she finally asks aloud, offering him her hand. 

He takes it, without hesitation. “Always.”