#why you so farr

[cameoutstruggling93]

😊❤️

[fun-k-boards]

I feel like the only person on planet Earth that hates both the idea and execution of Pon Farr...

[crowned-clown-rising]

I love how the og writers of Star Trek said hey Spock is increasing in popularity let's make the first episode of S2 about him.

He is going have a problem, yes.

And Kirk is going to help him because we need to have those two be seen as a team instead of fighting each other for the public's love.

Let's… let's make him act all weird, very unlike himself. What kind of situation could we use to put his life at risk and Jim going above and beyond to save him? a sickness? an enemy wound? some sacrifice? OH I GOT IT. LET'S CREATE A WEIRD ASS VULCAN MATING RITUAL THAT MAKES HIM GO MAD HORNY -LITERALLY-

Oh and let's make it a vulcan tradition to have your bestest friends accompany you to the mating ritual where they have to fight to death for some reason.

[mooooonnnzz]

okay,,,, hear me out,,,, how being ford's and stan's younger sibling and maybe like- remember when ford asked stanley to take the book and sail away? maybe what if ford asked reader to do that instead? and what if instead of ford being pushed into the portal it was reader? idk man i justn want some sibling angst >:]

World/Insured

Stanford Pines x Sibling!Reader/Stanley Pines x Sibling!Reader

᧔o᧓ i told myself it was gonna be a short lil fic

᧔o᧓ its 3k words guh

᧔o᧓ i had a lil too much fun writing this

᧔o᧓ if i made a taglist, would anyone be interested in being in it? if so, dm me or comment :p

᧔o᧓ angst!!

᧔o᧓ gnreader!

᧔o᧓ thats really all, enjoy!

᧔o᧓ request r open!!

𝜗℘ “[Name]! There’s some mail, can you be a doll and get it for me?” Stan shouts from the living room, a loud cheer following right after. His favorite football team of his was currently playing out of state and by the obnoxiously loud whistling and joyful cries, they seem to be doing good. Moodily stomping your foot on the ground, you yell; “Why don’t you get you slob!” while furiously scrubbing the dirty dishes clean. “But it’s sooo farr.” He whines. You could perfectly imagine his hand lazily reaching towards the door, exaggerated groans leaving his lips. Letting out an annoyed groan, you drop the plate down in the sink and shut off the sink. Walking out of the kitchen and into the living room, you point an angry finger at him. “You’re washing the dishes since you’re being a lazy bum right now.” You walk away, ignoring his protests against washing the dishes. Opening the door, you pop your head out and see a single postcard placed on the floor matt. You picked it up, curious about the unfamiliar postcard. “Gravity Falls?” You read out, closing the door with your foot. You’ve never heard of a place called that before? Flipping it on its back, in bold big letters read ‘Please come! - Ford’ Your heart catches in your throat. You had to reread the message again to make sure you weren’t imagining things.

𝜗℘ “Stan!” You need to show Stan this. He’d be the one to make sense of this all. Maybe you were imagining things, so delirious on the sadness of your distant brother your brain chose to cheer itself up by hallucinating postcards by Ford. That sounds plausible, right? “What’s up? Did you change your mind?” You don’t bother responding and shoved the postcard in his face. His face scrunches in confusion as he plucks the postcard from your hand. “Gravity Falls?” The same lost expression was pulled on his face. “Now, flip it on its back!” You said, tapping the card eagerly. Stan clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, slapping your hand away. “I will! If you’d let me.” He grumbled, turning it around. He reads the text, his eyes slowly widening. “FORD?!” He screams, abruptly standing up from the sofa. “He wants to talk to us now?” He glares at the postcard, anger swirling in his body. “What could he possibly want!”

𝜗℘ “I dunno but it sounds urgent.” You said, uncertainty in your tone. “You’re seriously considering seeing him?” He throws the postcard on the coffee table in front of him. “Is this something you really want to do?” Stan asks you, crossing his arms over his chest. He’s eyeing you carefully as if you have no idea what you’re talking about. “Yes, Stan! This is our brother. We need to go see him.” Stan pinched his nose, grumbling under his breath. “Fine,” He rolls his shoulders. “If we want to leave now, we better start packing.”

𝜗℘ While packing you wondered what Ford would have wanted. Did he want to reunite? Is this a sort of wedding invitation? Has he gone mad? So many scenarios filled your head and yet none of them felt right. Stuffing your clothes in your bag, you zip it close. “I’m done packing!” You announce, walking down the stairs. “Hurry, Stan! Or I’m going to leave without you!”

𝜗℘ “You better not!” Stan came rushing down the stairs, a bag strung across his body. “You ready?” You ask him, turning off the lights in the hallway. “I guess,” Stan shrugs, twisting the knob to the door, pulling it open. “After you.” He bows down to the floor. You kneed his shoulder, rolling your eyes. “You look ridiculous, get up.” You laugh.

𝜗℘ The car ride over to Gravity Falls was full of bostrious conversation from you and Stan. “Do you think he has a beard now?” Stan gasps, a grin pulling to his face at the thought of Ford with a beard. “Or a buzz?” You add, moving your head to the beats of the song that faintly played on the radio. “Nah, he would never.” Stan shakes his head. “The chances are never zero!”

𝜗℘ Checking the weather for probable storms was something you should’ve done beforehand. Stan was the first to notice how much snow had been falling and how roughly the wind slammed against the car. Thinking nothing of it, you continued onwards, telling Stan that he was probably making a big deal. He wasn’t. Nearing Gravity Falls, a snowstorm plowed through the small town and unknown to you and Stan, you got caught in it. That led you to pull over onto the side of the road that was practically just a white forest wonderland. “And who’s fault is this?” Stan asked sarcastically, motioning towards the car that was stuck in the snow. Fortunately for you and Stan, you were right where you needed to be. “Whatever, we’re close anyway.” You scowl, treading through the thick snow. “I think I might get blown away!” Stan’s loud voice pierced through the loud wind. “Stop being so dramatic!” You latched your hands around Stan’s wrist. “Oh, you’re so sweet.” Stan said, covering his face from the snow with his forearm. “Sure,”

𝜗℘ Approaching the shack, you knock on the door. “Ten bucks he doesn’t—“ The door whips open and a crossbow gets shoved to your face. “Woah, woah!” Stan swiftly stood in front of you, his body shielding you. “Who are you? Have you come to steal my eyes!”

𝜗℘ “Well, I can always count on you for a warm welcome.” Stan said, unbothered with Ford’s unusual greeting. Standing on your toes, you peered your head over Stan’s shoulder. You warmly smiled at Ford. He saw you and Stan, his eyes softened and his shoulders untensed. And for a split moment, Ford had a comforting feeling settle on him. He thought everything was going to be alright, but a slight shadow moving behind the trees triggered his paranoia back tenfold.

𝜗℘ “Guys! Did anyone follow you at all?” He looks warily side to side. “Eh, hello to you too, pal.” Said Stan, annoyance evident on his face. With one final look outside, Ford grabs you and Stan by the collar and pulls you in the shack. He shines a flashlight in Stan’s eyes then yours. “Why did you do that?” You pushed Ford away from you. “Sorry, I just had to make sure you weren't... uh, it's nothing. Come in, come in.” He urges you in, darting away further into the house. You closed the door and surveyed his house. Skeletons of certain animals were hung around, various books were stacked on top of each other and thrown around the house, and loads of crumpled up balls were scattered across the hallway. “What a mess this is.” You whisper to Stan who chuckles softly. “I’m telling him you said that.” Stan cheekily smiled. Removing his hand from his jacket pockets, he held his hand palm up in front of you. “You owe me ten bucks from earlier.” You sighed, grabbing your wallet out of your pocket and grabbing a crisp ten dollar bill. “Thank you!” He grabs it, sniffs it and shoves it in his pocket. “You’re weird.”

𝜗℘ “Uh, you’re gonna explain what’s going on here?” Stan asks, as you walk into another room, your mouth going slack in shock at how messy the room is. “You’re acting like mom on her tenth cup of coffee!” An amused puff of air left your nostrils. “He’s acting way worse than her.” You say, your eyes locking on a large animal skull that laid on top of an empty tank. “Don’t touch that!” He already knew that look in your eyes, a look where it told everyone who knew you that you were going to touch whatever caught your attention. “Thought I could get away with that.” You mumbled.

𝜗℘ Ford fills his arms with stacks of paper and a thick journal with the number one drawn on it. “Listen, there isn’t much time.” Ford starts, looking back to see if he missed any papers. “I’ve made huge mistakes and I don’t know who I could trust anymore.” He glances over to the skeleton who was positioned to where it's empty eye sockets stared directly at Ford’s side. Uncomfortable with the skeleton, he turns the head around. Stan’s immediately off put with how Ford’s talking. “Hey, uh, easy there. Let’s talk this through, okay?” He says, placing a hand on Ford’s shoulder. A glimpse of conflict flickers on Ford’s face. “I have something to show you two. Something you won’t believe.” Stan claims he’d understand, you heavily doubted that, this is Ford we’re talking about. Whatever he has to show, it is nothing within the lines of normal.

𝜗℘ He instructs you to follow him down to his lab. “Is this what you’ve been doing for 10 years?” You pondered out loud, your eyes taking in every machine that covered the place. What you weren’t expecting was the big triangular portal that stood in front of you and Stan. “Do you understand any of this?” You harmlessly jested. Stan dumbly stared at the portal in front of him. “Nope!”

𝜗℘ Taking steps towards the machine, Ford began to explain why such a thing was built and why it should never be turned on. He opened the side of his trench coat, his hand grabbing the book that was tucked in a pocket. “There’s only one journal left.” The journal was in front of you. “This is why I’m entrusting [Name] to hold onto the book.” You grabbed the book and you instantly felt queasy. “I have something to ask of you both,” His hands lay on you and Stan’s shoulders. “Remember our plans to sail around the world on a boat?” Your eyes glimmer with excitement. Was this the moment you and Stan have been waiting for? Are the Pines finally reuniting once and for all? “Take this book, get on a boat and sail away as far as ya can! To the edges of the earth!” He emphasizes this with a raise of his hands. “Bury it where no one can find it!”

𝜗℘ “You want us to get away from you?” You restated, voice slightly clipped with anger. “We just got here, Ford! And now you’re saying to get away from you?” You repeated, hoping your words held some kind of weight that would’ve shattered the ridiculous idea Ford had conjuring in his mind. “[Name], you don’t understand what I’m up against!” Ford says. “What I’ve been through!”

𝜗℘ Stan must’ve took what Ford said personally with how he was huffing out through his nose. “No, no!” Stan points at Ford. “I’ve been ban from three different countries! [Name] was outcasted by Dad because he didn’t bother taking care of them after you left! You think you’ve got problems? Me and [Name] have been struggling to stay afloat, Stanford.” He directs a finger to Ford’s chest. “Meanwhile, where have you been? Living it up in your fancy house in the woods! Selfishly hoarding your college money, because you only care about yourself!”

𝜗℘ “I’m selfish? I’m selfish, Stanley?” His eyebrows furrow inwards. Ford opened his mouth, ready to blow a few holes into Stan when you interjected. “I did not come here to hear you guys fight!” You stood in front of Ford, shoving his book in his hands. “Ford, I love you so much but we did not come all the way here just to do your dirty work.” Ford jerked his head back in disbelief. “My dirty work? Really?” He chuckles dryly. “And to think I could trust you with something valuable like this!”

𝜗℘ “Forget it,” Ford looks down at his book. “Forget all of this.” He waves his arm around his surroundings. “Why did I bother to ask you guys to come here? It’s pointless, everything is!” Ford babbles to himself, his hand that wasn’t holding the books was deeply entangled in his hair. You grew concerned over your brother, taking a step toward him, you reached a hand out. “Ford, are you o—“ A hand slams straight into your chest, pushing you back and stumbling over your feet. Stan grabs a hold of you, steadying you before yanking the book away from Ford. “You want to get rid of this book?” With his other hand, he digs it in his pocket. “Fine, I’ll do it then!” He pulls out a lighter. Flicking the lighter on, he holds the fire below the book. “My research!” Ford tackles Stan to the ground, the book flying out of Stan’s hold. You hurriedly rush over to where the book is and grab it. Ford removes himself off Stan and steadily approaches you like a wild animal. “Give me the book back, [Name].” He swipes his hand towards you, but you quickly back away into his lab.

𝜗℘ “Don’t let him get the book, [Name]!” Stan groans out, standing back up from the floor. “No!” Ford snarls. “Don’t listen to him, listen to me!” Ford took two steps forward while you took two steps back. “I’m sorry, Ford!” The back of your shoe slams against metal. Whipping your head behind you, you see yourself backed into a control panel of some sort. “Why must you do this to me? To your own brother!” His voice cracks with each word. “Whatever you’re doing here is slowly killing you, Ford. This isn’t right.” You shake the book in your hand. Whatever that’s in this journal must have something to do with Ford’s declining sanity. “Your brain can’t comprehend the sheer amount of important information that is in that book! You can’t destroy it!” Ford lunges towards you but you were faster than his fatigued body, you duck below and roll out of the way. His fingers brush against some controls, powering on the portal.

𝜗℘ Running back to where the portal stood, you threw the journal to Stan. “Catch!” You yell. Stan perfectly catches the book. “What do we do with it?” He questions, his eyes speedily darting to the book and Ford who was running up to him. “Destroy it!” You watch Stan stepsids Ford. “No!” Ford desperately yells out. Stan ran back into the lab but was pulled down by Ford delivering a well calculated kick to his ankle. “Give me back my book!” Ford cried out, kicking Stan to the back of the control panel. A guttural howl of agony left Stan, his hand flying to his back. He fell forward and you could see the upper right shoulder of his jacket was burnt off, a sizzling marking was blistering on his skin. “Stanley, oh my gosh! I’m so sorry, are you alr—“ Stan punches Ford in the face, causing him to stumble back into the lever, fully activating the portal. “Some brother you turned out to be!” Stan threw his book to the floor. Ford raised himself to his feet and was about to run to the book when you grabbed the back of his shoulder.

𝜗℘ “Stanford, do you really care more about stupid mysteries than your own family?” You spoke quietly, your sorrowful eyes locking with Ford’s erratic ones. “I—“ He gulps, his eyes shooting to the discarded book on the floor. “Don’t reach for the book, Stanford, please,” You beg, your voice shaky. “I can’t watch you guys fight anymore.” A look of sadness covers his face as he pushes you back, your feet overstepping the yellow and black caution tape. “I can’t let you take this away from me too!” Ford snatches the book from the ground, a relief sigh leaving him. The book was finally—

𝜗℘ “[Name]!” Stan screeched. “Stanford, what did you do!” He screamed, his hands grabbing his shoulder, fingers digging into Ford’s skin. Ford turns over to see you being pulled in by the portal. “[Name]!” Ford runs to you and he attempts to grab you, but you’re too far up. “Stan, Ford!” You call for them, your hand reaching to them. Stan fruitlessly tried snagging a finger, your sleeve, absolutely anything! But nothing. “What’s happening?!” You cry out in fear, seeing half of your body disappear within the portal. “Stanford, fucking do something!” Stan shoves Ford back. “I-I don’t know what to do!” He stammers. Stan grips the lever and with all his strength, pulls back, trying to switch it off but it wouldn’t budge. “Stanle—“ Your voice gets lost to the whirling wind of the portal and with a quick blink, you were sucked in, lost to time and space. The portal blasted Ford and Stan back.

𝜗℘ Stan groggily gets up, clutching his head in his hands. “Y-You!” Stan stumbles over his words, ears ringing loudly. “If it wasn’t for your obsession with this book, [N-Name] would’ve still been here!” His eyes water with tears. “Stanley, I-I’m sorry! I didn’t mean for this to happen!” Ford glanced at the portal, it was still intact, there was some hope! “We can power the portal on!” Ford scrambles to his feet and runs over to the portal. “It’s not going to work, Stanford.” Stan says, clenching his teeth so tightly he would’ve chipped a tooth. Stan watches with blurry eyes as Ford pathetically puts all his nonexistent strength into pulling the lever. “Stanley, help me!” He pitifully pleads. “It’s not going to work!” Stan yells. “All you do is bring bad luck wherever you go! You-You don’t do—“ His voice dies in his throat, a shuddered sob leaving in its stead. “Forget it, Stanford.” If you were here, you knew you wouldn’t want them to fight anymore. He held back his words in favor of you. “Stanley, we can fix this! We just need to find the other books.”

𝜗℘ As Ford shouted out different ways they could boot the portal back up, Stan left the lab and stared at the bag you left near the door. Grabbing it, he pulled it to his chest and sobbed onto it. You were gone and he wasn’t sure he was going to get you back.

Part 2

[readsaboutreid]

Fantasies | S.R.

this is smutty smutty smut smut so it's 18+, minors please dni

honestly this is just like a fantasy of mine inspired by how wildly hot this entire exchange is what can i say i'm a scifi girlie (gender neutral) and i figured it might make a good fic so here goes nothing

this is part 1 of 2

contains: unprotected sex (creampie), oral (f receiving), munch!spencer, softdom!spencer

“—but the reason the entire ritual was considered taboo wasn’t because Vulcans were supposed to be portrayed as prudish virgins, that’s all I’m saying,” (Y/N) ranted at JJ and Prentiss, gaining amused but shocked and confused stares from the two of them. When they had found out about her relationship with Spencer they might have been less than shocked but they had never seen her ramble like this in such a Reid-esque fashion.

Penelope Garcia, being ever the one to playfully tease her best friend decided to push the young agent’s buttons a little bit by playfully arguing back, “but then why all the secrecy around the ritual when it comes to other species knowing about it?” Which made (Y/N) roll her eyes in response and groan, and earning her glances from JJ and Prentiss that screamed why would you keep this going for longer?!

"Fucking Christ, Penny, you should know this, ugh—the ritual of Pon Farr is considered taboo because of the depth of emotions experienced by the Vulcans as they enter it, not because it has to do with sexual reproduction; Vulcans have sex outside of Pon Farr and we know this for a fact not only because Trip is literally told outright that Vulcans have sex by a Vulcan when he asked, but also because if Vulcans only ever copulated during Pon Farr, then Vulcan generations would always be seven years apart in age," her exasperation was nearly palpable as she ranted speedily, gaining good spirited laughter from Garcia while she her friend rage over something that they all knew in the end was fairly insignificant.

Spencer watched this entire exchange from his desk across the bullpen with a fond smile and a warm, floaty feeling blooming across his chest. That was when Garcia noticed him staring from his desk and moved to literally drag him into the discussion, deciding that everyone must join in the procrastination socialization. "What the—hey!" Spencer barely managed to steady himself and keep from falling out of the chair.

"I wanna know what our resident boy wonder has to contribute to the discussion," Penelope laughed in a singsong-y voice as she got him to the table they were all congregating at together and rolled him right up next to the chair on which (Y/N) was perched.

She looked over at him and shot him a small wave and a quiet, "hi, love." And he melted. Instantly.

Her smile was so sweet that Spencer could do nothing for a moment but respond with his own toothy, lovestruck grin. He was snapped back to reality by Garcia literally snapping in front of him and chiding (Y/N) as she said, “what have you done to this boy? Are you a freakin’ witch or something?” Spencer and (Y/N) both laughed and Garcia then continued, "so, Reid, do you agree with (Y/N)’s impassioned rant?"

"Oh! Right," Spencer shook his head, "no, she's 100% correct. The ritual of Pon Farr does not solely dictate when Vulcans have sexual relations. It is simply a period of heightened emotions and bonding for them." He looked at (Y/N) with another soft smile, proud that she had such a vast knowledge of Star Trek lore.

"See, Penny? Even the genius agrees with me," (Y/N) teased playfully, earning a chuckle from the team and a light blush from Spencer.

Garcia clapped her hands together excitedly, “Well then let's—”

“—I’m sorry to interrupt, but we have a case,” Garcia’s bubbly lilt was cut off by the stern tone of Agent Hotchner as he summoned them to the briefing room. Everyone broke apart at that, following their Unit Chief to the round table. As they all took their seats Spencer made sure to sit by (Y/N) so he could secretly slip her hand into his under the table to cling to some semblance of goodness as they were filled in on the next of the worst of humanity they had to face.

Spencer and (Y/N) laid together in his bed as they always did after particularly rough cases. He ran his finger gently up and down her barely clothed back when she uttered a soft, “hey I have this, like, sort of random question.”

“Oh? What would that be?” Spencer whispered into her hair, half asleep.

“Do you have any, like, fantasies you’d wanna—?” Spencer was confused by her question and the look on his face as she looked up at him told her as much, so she clarified, “like, sexually?"

Well, now he was up. In multiple ways. He reached over and turned on his lamp and stammered out, "uh—w-what—where did that come from?" Spencer's voice rose multiple octaves while his heart skipped a beat.

"Well I just—," she started before cutting herself off and making a face that said she was thinking about how exactly she wanted to explain her thought process. "There's something I've been thinking about for a couple weeks." Her cheeks tinged pink in the soft light of his desk lamp as she shyly looked up at him through her lashes in a way that made his pajama pants start to feel uncomfortably tight.

"Oh? What would that be?" Spencer found himself echoing his first question, unable to focus on anything that wasn't (Y/N) (or her nipples, which were peeking through her thin tank top).

"Do you, um, do you remember that conversation about Pon Farr Penny and I were having a little while back?" She whispered, seeming embarrassed to be bringing it up.

"I do," he confirmed, nodding while he finally moved his eyes from her chest to her face, "why do you ask?" He leaned down and began peppering her face with soft kisses, drawing a symphony of giggles from her, before moving from her cheeks down her chin and then to her neck.

Her giggles turned to soft moans and she tried her best to form a response, but as Spencer began sliding his hand up underneath the fabric she found herself struggling to think through the haze. She finally managed to mutter a soft, "I just—mmm—the conversation got me thinking that it might be fun to—fuck, Spencer—to kind of, like, roleplay sometime—holy shit, Spencer, please don’t stop!" His fingers had found their way to her nipples and while she spoke he began gently teasing and tormenting them.

As Spencer continued to explore the sensitive skin of (Y/N)'s chest, she couldn't help but let out another moan, causing Spencer to pause momentarily to look into her eyes. "Roleplay?" Spencer whispered hoarsely, his voice laced with both excitement and curiosity as his fingers continued their dance on her skin. "What did you have in mind?"

(Y/N) bit her lip nervously, her eyes darting around the room as if seeking inspiration. "Well," she began hesitantly, "I was thinking something along the lines of, uh, maybe a kind of Trek-themed scenario? Like, you could be a Vulcan, and I—I could be your mate?" She trailed off, her voice barely above a whisper as she watched Spencer's expression.

"And what would that involve, exactly?" he asked, his voice low and sultry, his fingers still gently stroking her nipples.

(Y/N) hesitated for a moment, her cheeks flushing a delicate shade of pink. "Well, it might involve—uh, well, you know, some intimate bonding rituals."

Spencer laughed softly, the sound warm and low in the dimly-lit room. "You want me to roleplay as a Vulcan during Pon Farr and engage in 'intimate bonding rituals' with you?" He teased, a playful grin spreading across his face. He wanted to respond by saying, marry me; instead, he settled for, "I can't say I've ever really thought about that before, but I'm willing to give it a try." He began trailing kisses from her neck down to her chest while he tugged on the hem of her shirt, pulling it off of her when she raised her arms above her head for him.

He started trailing kisses down her stomach, stopping when he reached the waistline of her pajama shorts and looking up at her through his eyelashes. He hooked his fingers into the waistband of her shorts and panties, and she lifted her hips instinctively so he could slide them down her legs. Spencer moved back up her body to kiss her softly on the lips before getting up off of the bed and standing at the edge, rotating (Y/N) 90° and gently pulling her until she was lined up at the edge of the bed before spreading her legs open and kneeling down in front of her slowly.

(Y/N) shuddered with anticipation at the feeling of his breath gently hitting her dripping center. When she looked down at him he was looking up at her, his amber eyes burning with lust and his pupils blown wide. He licked his lips before leaning in and kissing her burning core softly while running his tongue out to lap up some of the beautiful slickness that had accumulated with a soft moan. He tormented her with light teases from his tongue and her hips bucked up towards his mouth, making him use one of his hands to hold them down and look up at her with a stern expression that told her, 'hold still or I'll stop.'

She whimpered at the loss of his tongue, but it was only for a split second as she felt his index finger push up against her entrance. He teased the entrance by lightly moving up and down it, collecting her honey and bringing it up to his lips and licking it off before bringing his finger back. When he started slowly pushing his finger inside of her, he attached his lips to her clit and did a delightful thing with his tongue that made her nearly see white.

She reached down and tangled her fingers in his hair and gasped out a soft, "Spencer that feels so—oh god—so fucking good!" He slowly pumped his finger in and out of her, savoring the sensation of her soft walls around it. God, how he wanted to be inside of her right now. But there was no way he was going to be able to drag himself away from her pussy, not yet. He needed more. He slipped another finger into her and sucked on her clit, running his tongue around it in circles.

He kept this up and listened to her moans for guidance and encouragement, speeding his fingers up ever so slightly and feeling her body begin to tense up underneath him. Her moans began to increase in volume and frequency, her grip on his hair growing tighter as his fingertips ran across the spongy piece of flesh on the front wall of her pussy, earning a loud and desperate wail from (Y/N) as he felt her orgasm begin to take over her.

He moaned as he lapped up her juices and gave her pussy one last kiss before wiping his mouth and chin with his wrist and moving back up to kiss her desperately. He settled his clothed hips between her soaked legs and she ground her hips against his erection through his pants. He rocked his hips against her, finding a perfect rhythm. He moaned into her mouth before pulling back and standing up, untying the drawstring on his pants to pull them and his briefs down in one swift movement.

He took his place on top of her again and nestled his cock up against her. She reached down between their bodies and stroked his throbbing member before guiding it to her entrance. He wasted no time, pushing into her immediately and groaning in relief. For a brief second he could only think in images and single word fragments. 'Soft, wet, warm,' swirled around his mind in a whirlwind of lust and pleasure as he sank into her further, burying his cock fully inside of her.

"I, uh, I don't know how long I'm going to be able to, uh, last," Spencer admitted with a small, embarrassed laugh. (Y/N)'s only response was to roll her hips against his, drawing a surprised moan from his throat.

"I honestly don't care," she panted, "I just need you to fuck me." She looked at him with a gaze that drove him absolutely mad with lust. He pulled his hips back and began fucking her with slow but moderately hard thrusts, both of them moaning as they locked their lips together again. She met his thrusts with her own movements and brought her hands back up to tangle her fingers in his hair. She tugged at it gently and he moaned and started fucking her faster in response.

"Such a good girl for me, kitten," he purred into her ear. Each moan that fell from her lips pushed him closer and closer to the edge, until he was teetering at the point of no return. "You ready for me to fill you up, baby?" She moaned and nodded in response.

Her nails dug into his shoulders and he felt her pussy begin to flutter around his cock as her second orgasm took her by surprise and ripped through her body. Loud moans spilled from the both of them when Spencer felt himself tip over the edge and stilled with one final thrust inside of her. His cock pulsed as it pumped all of his cum into her.

Once he had pulled out of her he went into the bathroom and cleaned himself off. He grabbed a washcloth and ran it under the warm water before walking back out. He knelt in front of (Y/N) and began to gently clean her up. When he was finished he planted a sweet kiss on one of her thighs before tossing the rag into the laundry basket. He crawled back into bed next to her and laid down on his back.

"You're too far away," he pouted at (Y/N) and held his arms out. She moved up and settled happily within them, resting her head on his chest and nuzzling gently. He began playing with her hair and sighed happily before muttering a soft, "I love you, (Y/N)."

"Love you, too, Spence," she mumbled, already half asleep.

[yutarot]

IN PERFECT SYNC [j.jh smau]

six — the man he was. wc: 376

the moment you heard jaehyuns voice amongst the crowd and the bands cover of champagne supernova, you immediately felt your heart drop.

there was no way this was happening.

“kazuha…” you poke her arm, causing her to roll her eyes at you for interrupting her so-called ‘fan moment’ which consisted of her being adamant she’d had eye-contact with the jeno lee, the bands bass player, who was standing 100 feet away.

“what is it!” she yells, and you immediately panic, whisper yelling at her to shut up.

but when you point to the man ahead of you, her eyes turn wide.

“no way.” she replies. “yn we need to leave.”

she grabs your arm in attempt to pull you out of the crowd. but there was no way in hell that you were leaving here without taking up this opportunity, and that fact only encouraged you. that and the 7 beers that you had already drunk, telling you that this was the best idea in the world.

which it definitely wasn’t.

but before kazuha could stop you, you had already reached up to tap on his shoulder, watching his eyes roll as he turns to face you.

“oh, for fuck sake.” he dead-pans, his friend, yuta, beside him, laughing at the sight.

jaehyun looks anything but amused.

“you’re blocking my view.” you snap. he sighs before attempting to turn back around. that was until the next words leave your mouth, somewhat quicker than you had hoped.

“so you’re just gonna ignore me. again.”

“yn.” he warns.

“no.” you shrug, “let’s talk about it, right here and now. i don’t see why not.”

he looks at yuta before turning back to you.

“you’re drunk.”

you know confronting jaehyun like this isn’t the best idea you’ve ever had, but this conversation is long overdue.

“im leaving, don’t talk to me.” jaehyun says as he walks off, yuta shrugging before following after him.

you want to chase after him, yell at him for everything he’s ever done to you, everything he ever did to you. but you stay, wondering if you’ll ever get the chance again.

but for now, you stay hating him. the man he is, the man he will be but most importantly:

the man he was.

mlist — next

notes; im reopening the taglist, pls lmk if you’d like to be added! also i just finished my writeup of the literal entire plot and lemme just say this is gna be my fav BY FARR it’s a literal rollercoaster im so excited for everything to be revealed. there may be 2 or 3 chapters based on friends episodes (s5 e14🤭) because im rewatching it again and it keeps giving me ideas 😓 ALSO this deal or no deal crossover is making me so excited pls

taglist — open; @https-yeonjun @chenlesfavorite @therealbobbyshloby @f6llsun @jkslvsnella @nanaxwi @cloudmrk @neocrashed @vernonburger @vividwritess @taeeflwrr @mmjhh1998 @cyjzzl @stareaa @minkyuncutie @mrkleelvr @dudekiss3r @nattan127 @slayhaechan @jaeveil @tynlvr @mslora @nosungluv @grassbutneo @dokyriu @girlz4jaem @axo-l0tl @yyangj3lly @solvrse @m1ng1swife @gentlepeach @xiuriii @soobinbunnie5 @tocupid @apolloxxivmin @ctrlstar @gyuguys @tokitosun @i-kai @flamingi @mrkleelvr @en-dream @queenrachelpink @ssweetreveries @swanyvess @flaminghotyourmom @hyuck-me @cryingforjae @hizhu @starfilledgaze

[spilledcoffeeonthefloor]

"i want to end this"

Neil knew something was up with Andrew for the last few days. he was, a little off, he could say; he ate less, smoked more, and most importantly, left Neil more often.

Neil always respected Andrew's boundaries. hell, he acted, and felt, like Andrew's boundary are devine rules set by god,

but he also knew Andrew, so he was both surprised and not surprised when he heard him say "i want to end this"

𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘢 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘵? that crossed Neil's mind.

𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘪 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘢 𝘧𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵

𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘪 𝘢𝘴𝘬 𝘸𝘩𝘺.

Neil kept quiet. he wasn't exactly sure what was being ended. the sex? the night drives? it's not like he could end his feelings. if he could, he would do way before baltimore.

"ok" Neil said.

Andrew was quite for few second. Neil could swear he saw a flash of something near disappointed flash through Andrew's eyes.

"good" and with that he left a room.

Andrew woke up the next day on his own bed. well, he didn't fall sleep, but he was in his own bed, cold andlonely, because of a choice he made himself.

𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵'𝘴 𝘦𝘹𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘶 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘷𝘦 he told himself. got out of bed and walk toward the kitchen.

if he hadn't woken up in his own bed, he would thing yesterday was all just an imagination, because everything was kinda, the same.

there was his coffee Neil usually made for him, and Neil himself sipping his own coffee and arguing with kevin over something Andrew didn't care enough to pay attention to. he felt like he was staring at his coffee too much to be normal. he considered not taking it, but he wasn't a fucking child, so he took his coffee and took a slow sip, like every other normal day.

they drove to the court, Neil sat in his usual seat next to Andrew.

he sat on the couch of the lobby in his usual place, again, next to Andrew.

another day passed, still the same.

his coffee was there.

Neil brought ice cream when he got back from his class, like he always did.

he showed him those stupid cat videos, like he always did.

turn the TV down and told everyone to shut up when Andrew was having a headache, like he always did.

days passed.

Neil would still let him know when he was gonna take longer runs so Andrew wouldn't get worried ( "I'm not dead, just running a bit more" Neil texted him right when he was ready to take his keys and go search for him."idgf" he replied, of course he didn't give a fuck. )

that was stupid. everything was stupid. Andrew ended this cause Neil is stupid and tolerates things he shouldn't. so why didn't he get the fuck away from Andrew when he had the chance? it sure as fuck wasn't for the convenience. Andrew is farr from being convenient, if not difficult as fuck to deal with. so why is he still hovering around, when there's nothing to hold him obligated? when he didn't have to and more importantly when no one was expecting him to. Andrew was eating himself alive with the thought of Neil forcing himself to handle Andrew.but because of what? he didn't know. they didn't have any deal, so it must be the obligation of whatever they had, right? Andrew knew the only form of emotional bound Neil had with anybody else beside the foxes, was his mother. he knew Neil would tolerate anything when he had to.

they went for night drives, like they always did. Andrew wanted to say no when Neil asked if they could go for a drive, but his yes was a reflex. Andrew knew he still had a heart because it sure as hell wasn't his brain that was dancing with the thought of night drive with Neil.

like it always did.

he heard footsteps when he was on the roof smoking.

Neil sat beside him. he didn't ask. he knew when it would be a no, and it was both humiliating and stupid that he knew today was not a no. and they days before. and every single day after the day when they finished their this.

"what the fuck is wrong with you."

"hm?" Neil looked at him, and he had the audacity to actually look confused.

"are you really this stupid, or you're just playing dumb? "

"you have to be more specific cause i do both of this on daily routine."

"Neil." wasn't it a nice day to murder the love of your life?

who u just ended things with and should act on it.

"are you talking about the movie night? i didn't-"

"Neil, why the fuck are you here."

"to smoke?"

he was hundred percent playing dumb.

"what the fuck is your game? trying to, what, exactly? are you fooling yourself into believing you know what's better for me, or did you assume i didn't mean it when i said this is over.

so much for your 𝘪 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘢 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘰𝘯."

"what the fuck. of course i know u meant it Andrew. and i said ok. i don't understand what is the problem you're referring to. do you want me to stay away from you? cause you didn't mention that part."

"are you so stupid you couldn't make that out yourself?"

"you know i don't assume things, Andrew. do you want me to stay away from you?"

Andrew couldn't believe this man.

"what I'm asking is how do you fucking not."

"why should i."

"you're so stupid."

"ok but you still didn't answer my question. if you want me to stay away from you, i will. you didn't say anything, you just said it's over and i said ok."

"and then you use your brain and find out that when something is over between you and someone else, then nothing holds you responsible for spending time with them."

"i know that."

"then why the fuck are you still here"

Neil didn't Answer.

𝘩𝘶𝘩

when Neil was quite for too long, Andrew turned to look at him.

𝘰𝘩 𝘪 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 that's the first thing that came to his mind when seeing the look on Neil's face.

he hated that look. that looked always meant Neil was about to say something that would make Andrew want to throw him off the building.

"Andrew, hey, look at me"

He sat on his Knees and scoot closer to Andrew

"i am, you blind"

"no, no, look at me, i am long, 𝘓𝘰𝘯𝘨 past the point of doing things i don't want to. i am long past just surviving, long past doing everything for a reason. I'm not here right now because , i don't fucking know, because i think i have to, or because i want something or because I'm expecting anything or any fucking other reason.

ask me why I'm here, and i say i don't fucking know. the closest reason i have is because it's you. because why shouldn't i. how could i not. you said let's end this, i said ok. i don't need to be in a relationship with you in order for you to know i care about you. or for myself to value my feelings for you. labeled or not, i like spending time with you, i like everything about you, actually, whether there's something between us or not. if you tell me you don't want me spending time with you, I'll accept it, doesnt matter how difficult it is for me, but you know i will. I'm happy right now. I'm happy just by being with you. you make me happ and you don't even have to do anything.

you underestimate my ability to leave. if i was unhappy, I'd be gone long ago, and you, you of all people know that. yeah yeah everytime i look at you i wish i could trade my soul for a kiss, but I'll still be happy to be by yourside even if we don't get to touch for the rest of our lives."

Neil thinks for a second then frowns a bit

"ok i don't know if I'd still be happy in a situation where you're with someone else, like, when someone else get to have this. i mean, you know I'm like, I'll never get in the way... wow that's so heavy to imagine give me a second i forgot what i was saying"

Andrew was not gonna give him a second. he would throw him off the building.

Andrew was ruined for everyone else the moment Neil said "if it means losing you, then no". he has fallen long long ago, and was willing to live with the burnt mark on his heart for the rest of his life.

how stupid,

of both of them, to not know.

Andrew was not gonna give him a second.

trade his soul, he said?

sure. Andrew was not gonn give him a second. he was gonna kiss his soul out of his body.

[xiaq]

Story time: A (sex) trope conversation with my husband

Y'all want to hear about a hilarious conversation I had with B today?

Of course you do.

So B knew one of the fic authors I follow had posted a new work and I was planning to read it after dinner while he watched some sports ball. Afterward, he asked me how it was and I said, "Eh, kinda disappointing, but for me reasons not for author reasons––the writing was bomb, as usual."

And he was like, "How was it disappointing?"

I explained that the story started right off the bat with the "fuck or die" trope which I'm not typically into because dub/non-con isn't my jam. UNLESS the characters already have a romantic/sexual interest and especially if they are secretly pining for each other and then wracked with guilt in the aftermath for enjoying the circumstances before admitting they've been in love with each other all along. In which case it's

But that was not the case, here.

And B, bless him, was like

"...I think we have fundamentally different ideas of what 'fuck or die' means, can you please explain?"

So I did––gave him a couple examples like biological imperatives or heat/rut, pollen or potions, etc.

And he was like, "Ohhh ok, that is...not what I thought it meant. How did that become a fandom thing? Is that a trope in some major franchise?" he asks.

And I was like "My love. My heart. Are you familiar with STAR TREK?? PON FARR??"

and he was like "Why are you shouting I have no idea what you're talking about."

So then he got an education.

The man has only seen a few episodes of next generation and the more recent movies so had no clue about the deep and abiding fandom fascination with Vulcan biological imperatives. But boy howdy is he now aware.

[anewstartrekfan]

Why I like Kirk so much and why I think he didn’t resonate as much with general audiences as Spock did

I think what Gene Roddenberry and the rest of the tos crew underestimated is how powerful knowledge of a character can be when they thought Kirk would be popular over Spock. As season 1 progresses while you do get information about both Kirk and Spock peppered through out, how much and how it’s conveyed is important.

Spock is Stoic yes, but surprisingly he talks about his past and what it means to be Vulcan a lot. And other characters comment on Vulcans too like McCoy describing where a Vulcan heart is. Even moving onto season 2, when Spock truly, desperately, does not want to explain what Pon Farr is or that Sarek is his father, he admits these things under pressure. And all of this information is what’s gives the audience an idea of what informs his actions.

Jim Kirk however, despite being very outgoing and charismatic, very rarely talks about himself. With few exceptions, every time you do learn something about his past it’s because someone else explains it or points it out. You’ve got where no man has gone before where Gary talked about their academy days, The naked time while Spock talked about his regrets, Kirk vents that he wants a personal connection and then is literally the only person who is able to will the virus to stop effecting him (on his own I mean) just long enough for McCoy to give him the cure.

The Android copy of Kirk tells us about Kirk’s brother Sam, in Conscience of the king literally everyone except Kirk explains his tragic tarsus iv backstory, we never find out who the Ruth girl is in shore leave, and it’s Bones that brings up Sam lives on Deneva. Even in season 2 in the worst episode ever, the deadly years, when Kirk is in a room alone with his ex fiancé, she explains their history. Not Kirk.

This man is allergic to talking about himself I love it.

Edit: Whenever Jim does even sorta talk about his past, it’s always in the context of what the other people he’s talking to know about it. Take Tarsus IV. Spock tells Jim that he checked the same library records. So when Jim finally opens up at the end of the conversation, it’s information Spock and Bones already know. “I saw him [Kodos] once, 20 years ago.” Then about 10 minutes later when he’s talking with Kodos and trying to get proof, he gives Kodos a copy of the speech Jim heard him read 20 years ago. Saying that he memorized the words. Again, these are things only the two of them would know about. It’s not something Jim exclusively went through.

Then later in Obsession when Jim is talking about his prior experience with the fog, everything he references was in the report he made after the Farragut disaster that he knows Spock and Bones read. There is no new information he reveals about what happened to him or even how he felt about it. Bones has to be the one to say Jim was wrecked with guilt because at the end of the day, Jim will never willingly talk about his past without knowing or thinking the other person he’s talking to has the same information. He will not reveal anything new 95% of the time.

Anyway back to the old blog.

While I’d argue conscience of the king does most of the work you would ever need to explain why Kirk is the way he is, the fact is we don’t learn much about his past through him. Instead it’s Kirk’s actions that inform our understanding of him. Which on some level I like a lot. It’s rare that a tv series doesn’t lean heavily into some tragic backstory explaining why a character acts the way they do. But it isn’t just he doesn’t have multiple tragic backstories. It’s what we know nothing about his past in general. Ffs we didn’t learn he grew up in Iowa until Star Trek IV. It might not even be Riverside! That town just claimed it for themselves and everyone rolled with it.

Edit: SNW did confirm after almost 40 years that riverside is Kirk’s birthplace.

The audience never truly closes the gap with Kirk because he never willingly opens up (at least where I am in the show idk maybe the movies change this) So comparatively Spock just had more going on.

[bumblingbabooshka]

[TUVOKTOBER: Day 15] At First Sight. [Patreon | Commissions]

[im-a-wonderling]

Rescue Me, Part 4 ~ Obi-Wan Kenobi

If I didn't have @writing-on-the-wahl's help, this part would've taken so much longer and would've been so much worse. As always, my friend, you are an angel, and I adore you.

Summary: Now a Jedi Knight with her own padawan, Y/N gets an individual mission unlike anything she's done before.

Warnings: Yeah, this one's dark, so bodily harm and mortal peril and possibly more?

Word count: 9.8k

Rescue Me masterlist | Main masterlist

“Why does the council want to see us?” Ghon asked, keeping up with my brisk pace as best he could in spite of his tiny stature. It likely looked comical, but none of the Jedi we passed gave us a second glance. 

We’d landed on Coruscant not ten minutes before, and the waiting attendant had immediately informed us the Jedi Council was waiting.

The guilt of dulling my feelings for Ghon’s benefit weighed on my mind, but my padawan didn’t deserve to feel my anxiety as well as his own. Perhaps a day was coming where I would be able to stand in front of the council with confidence, but it wasn’t coming any time soon. “Likely to debrief us on our mission and brief us for the next one,” I replied, answering his question as calmly as I could. 

Ghon frowned. “But we just got back!”

I didn’t bother admonishing him for the complaint, not when I was also weighed down with a fatigue that seeped through to my bones. There was very little time for rest since I’d become a Jedi Knight, and it was almost too much for me to handle at twenty-two years old. Ghon was only eleven. 

“Such is the way of war,” I sighed as we stopped in front of the sliding doors. As we waited to be called in, I resisted the urge to smooth down my robes. My appearance did not matter. In fact, the more ruffled I appeared, the more humble I appeared. 

The Force buzzed to my left, and I glanced at Ghon to see him chewing on his lip.

He’d barely qualified as a padawan, evident by his deep-seated need to please. He needed lots of encouragement, but he made it easy to give. Everything he needed to be doing, he was. If only he could believe it.

I reached out and tugged lightly on his braid, making him smile. I barely had time to drop my hand at my side again before the doors slid open.

Each face expectantly watching us featured grim expressions with worry lines. The tension in the room was palpable, and I knew it had everything to do with the war tearing the galaxy apart. Every Jedi felt it, the pain and death radiating off each planet, and there was no solace from it. 

But the most depressing sight was the empty seat.

The seat which had been empty the day I cut off my own padawan braid with my lightsaber, and empty every time after. I knew better than to ask. Once in a while, a story drifted my way of some daring escapade, and I would know that my old master was still alive. 

I couldn’t lament it, for it was as he said: this is what we were made for. 

I bowed once I reached the center of the room. “Masters.”

“Congratulations on your success on Rodia,” Master Mundi said, mustering a smile. “Senator Farr thanked us on behalf of his people.” 

Senator Farr, leader of the swampy, waterlogged planet of Rodia, reached out to the Republic to ask for aid after he defied the Trade Confederacy. The Republic obliged, sending relief aid in the form of supplies and a Jedi healer. 

Me. 

I inclined my head. “I was gratified to be of help.”

The Force rippled as the attention in the room shifted to the young man beside me. “And your padawan seems to be learning quickly,” Master Mundi added.

I opened my mouth to agree, but the words died.

The humming of a light. 

Instantly, my insides were all aflutter. I hadn’t felt that light in months, and yet I could never mistake it. On every planet I’d been dispatched to, I searched for it and never found it. The sparse amount of times I’d been on Coruscant even, the light was nowhere to be found.

But now there was no mistaking it: the light was here. The sensation grew steadily, the source far too close to be anywhere farther than Coruscant's atmosphere.

I looked around at the council members to see if they’d felt it too, but none of their signatures seemed any different than they had before. 

“Yes,” I cleared my throat, “he is eager and very intelligent. He was of great assistance on Rodia.” 

“You picked your padawan well,” Master Fisto said, smiling at Ghon. 

“That I’ve never doubted,” I managed to say in spite of the humming. Maybe they would think me arrogant for saying it, but I never wanted Ghon to feel he stood alone in front of the council. 

Master Windu leaned forward, dousing me in the full weight of his skepticism that momentarily drowned out the humming, bracing his elbows on his knees. “How is Padawan Ghon’s learning going?” The light drew nearer, its humming filling my ears like the buzzing wings of a Grutchin. Ghon shifted beside me, reminding me of the question. 

“All things considered, I couldn’t ask for more. I look forward to the day when he doesn’t have to learn during a war.”

“As do we all,” Master Mundi murmured. 

The light grew louder still, loud enough for me to hear the exhaustion and anxiety within it, echoing the stress already present in the room.

“And what does your padawan think?” Master Windu asked.

Overwhelmed by the light as I was through the Force, I could still feel the flash of uncertainty fill the room and knew the council could feel Ghon’s reaction as strongly as I did.

“It’s been an honor to learn under Y/F/N Y/L/N.” He lifted his chin even as his hands shook slightly. “I’ve learned much.”

The light was shouting now, making it impossible to perceive anything else. “Well, it seems you’re a good teacher,” Master Ti's lips formed, his voice lost within the volume of the Force.

And then the humming cut off, beautiful silence caressing me. And into the silence came the words: “I should hope so.”

My breath caught in my throat. That voice. I could be dead and buried six feet under the ground and still recognize it. Still want to run towards it. 

Slowly, with my heart hammering in my chest, I turned to look.

In the open doorway of the councilroom stood none other than Obi-Wan Kenobi. 

His hair, neatly sheared, was far shorter. Instead of being combed back with the tips resting on his shoulders like normal, it laid on his head, making his forehead appear smaller. His beard, however, was fuller than before, giving his face a longer look. He too wore the worry lines every other master sported, far deeper than I'd last seen.

And yet with all the differences, his smile was the same as always. 

I almost started to greet him with an “old man” and a smile, but stopped myself. This was no longer my master with whom I could joke around with. This was a master, a member of the Jedi council who was only to be treated with respect and formality. “Master Kenobi,” I said. The honorific felt strange coming off my tongue.

His face pinched, as if the formality of his title filled him with as much strangeness as it did me.

“Ahhh, Kenobi,” Master Windu sounded about as pleased as he ever did, which wasn’t saying much. “Join us.”

Master Kenobi glanced over my shoulder at Master Windu and gave a quick nod, before brushing past me to sit in the empty seat. Remembering myself, I bowed respectfully, and Ghon followed suit as Master Kenobi settled into his seat.

“As it happens,” Mace Windu said, drawing my attention, “we have your next mission.”

Ghon straightened. “Are we going back to Rodia?”

“Appreciate the enthusiasm, we do, Padawan Ghon,” Yoda said, chuckling. “But a mission for your master alone, this is.” 

A mission of my own? If it was too dangerous for my padawan, was I capable of it myself? Ghon looked at me, the uncertainty lining his features reflecting what I felt in my gut. “There’ll be stuff for you to do,” I assured him in spite of my misgivings.

“I think Master Yoda could use some help with the younglings,” Master Fisto said kindly. “Until then, you can get food and perhaps some sleep.”

Ghon didn’t move. 

I nudged him, and he reluctantly bowed to the masters and left the council room. 

As soon as the doors shut, I turned back to Master Yoda. “What’s the mission?”

“To go undercover, you are.”

Surprise bloomed in my chest, but I remained silent, trusting the council to elaborate and alleviate my confusion. 

Master Koon leaned forward in his chair. “We’ve received intel of a Separatist trader that spends his evenings in one of the clubs here. We want you to meet him there for some business.” 

“I don’t have any experience with undercover work,” I said slowly, taking great care to sound confused and not defiant. 

“Experience you have not,” Master Yoda agreed. “Skills you do.”

“We would not have chosen you unless you were the best fit for the job.” Master Windu’s tone left no room for argument. “The Republic is running low on PLX-1 and PLX-4 missile launchers. We want you to make a deal with this trader.”

What? 

Paying for weapons? From a Separatist? 

This was not the kind of mission I’d expected. Master Windu continued, talking of the money I was to offer and how many launchers I was to ask for. I kept my eyes on him, but I shifted my focus to the no-longer-empty seat.

The turbulent light of Master Kenobi’s Force signature only made me more wary. 

“Conflicted you are,” Master Yoda said, drawing my attention. “Unsure of the mission’s integrity, hmmm?”

“It feels odd,” I said slowly, “to be a peacekeeper and be dealing weapons. Wouldn’t it be better if one of the senators met with this buyer?”

The light shifted slightly, a little more desperate than before. 

“We believe this buyer would prefer a transaction off the record,” Master Windu said. “We’ve also received intel that he prefers human women of a certain…physique.”

Discomfort roiled in my gut like acid. The council was giving me this mission because of my physique? “How dangerous is this man?” I asked carefully, and the light flickered. 

Master Windu’s impassive face did not inspire any confidence. “We have no reason to believe there’s any additional danger in this mission than any other.” Considering a significant amount of my missions involved outright combat, that wasn’t as reassuring as he likely meant it. Or perhaps he did not intend to comfort me at all. 

But Jedi were called to obey, regardless of and even in spite of comfort. 

“Wherever I’m needed,” I said slowly, meeting Master Yoda’s gaze, “I will go.”

The light flickered again, but I kept my attention on Master Yoda, who did not react. Master Windu sat back in his seat. “Then you are dismissed.”

I bowed and left the council room, mind buzzing. 

Ghon leaned against a wall outside the council room, eyes half-closed with exhaustion. He needed to sleep, and yet he was waiting for me. This would be our first time since becoming Padawan and Master that we would be separated. There was bound to be some strain. 

He stood straight when he saw me. 

I reached out to rest my hands on his shoulders. “It’ll be okay,” I said softly. “My mission won’t take very long, and then we’ll likely be off to the Outer Rim again.”

Ghon did not look comforted. “What will I do if it takes longer?” 

“There’s plenty to be learned right here,” I told him. “You can meditate, and there’s plenty of people for you to practice your swordplay with.” 

“But what if…it takes longer than that?”

I watched him, feeling the waves of anxiety pouring off of him and realizing it wasn’t just anxiety at being separated. “I will be alright, Ghon. You don’t have to fear for my safety.” I smiled comfortingly at him. 

“Don’t worry about your master, young one.” The comfort infused into the familiar voice made my eyes flutter shut. Opening them quickly, I turned to see the council all filing out of the councilroom. And strolling towards us was Master Kenobi, smiling kindly at my padawan as he said: “She can take care of herself.” 

Ghon bowed in respect, but did not say anything. 

There was a silence where I felt Master Kenobi’s eyes on me, where I watched Ghon…who was gazing at Master Kenobi. My padawan heard his fair share of stories about Master Kenobi, and not just from me either. The awe radiating from him was justified.

“Master Kenobi,” I stood behind Ghon, my hands on his shoulders, “this is my padawan, Ghon Laster.”

A strangely fond smile on his face, Master Kenobi held out his hand. “Pleased to meet you.” 

I couldn’t see Ghon’s face, but I could feel his shyness as he shook Master Kenobi’s hand. “Pleased to meet you,” he echoed, likely not knowing what else to say. 

“I can sense your worry.” Master Kenobi’s eyes flicked up to mine before returning to the young man. “It’s natural to feel such things, but trust in the Force. It will look out for your master the same as it does for me or you.” 

It wasn’t just my own apprehension that eased. Even if I couldn’t feel Ghon’s feelings through the Force, the slump of his shoulders made his relief clear.

“Ghon, why don’t you go rest before joining Master Yoda with the younglings?” I said. “We didn’t get much sleep last night, and this is your chance to get some.”

“Yes, Master,” Ghon said, bowing his head towards Master Kenobi before walking off in the direction of his quarters.

My eyes lingered down the corridor even after he was gone from it. Look at him, I told myself sternly. Acknowledge him. I managed to turn my head, but somehow, my gaze lowered. Why? It wasn’t as if the floor was particularly interesting.

“Knight Y/L/N.” 

I could tell from Master Kenobi’s tone that it wasn’t a goodbye. He was waiting to talk to me. Steeling myself, I finally looked up at my old master.

He tilted his head. “I haven’t seen you in months.”

“Yes, well, the council keeps me busy.” I flashed him a tentative smile. 

“We have a knack for doing that,” he replied loftily, but the jovial look in his eye told me his pretention was teasing. 

I fished around for a snippy reply, but it didn’t leap into my mind as it used to, the rules of our engagement covered in dust. I realized that the awkward silence had returned, and yet it was too late for me to reply to his snark.

What could I say? What was I allowed to ask? 

“I was about to go to the gardens to meditate,” Master Kenobi said before I could figure out whether to extend or end the conversation. “Would you…care to join me?”

The light flickered. Was he…uncertain? What could he be uncertain of? “I would appreciate a chance to meditate with my old master.” I smiled at him, and the light steadied. Master Kenobi gestured down the hallway. We started walking together, taking every stride together with such ease, neither one having to adjust their pace for the other. 

The Jedi Temple gardens were one of the only green places on the planet of Coruscant, and it took a lot of work to keep up. But having a space where a Jedi could reconnect to the Force through plants, the most innocent of living things, was worth it. 

“I must say,” Master Kenobi finally said as we reached the courtyard, “I’m curious.”

“About what?”

Master Kenobi clasped his hands behind his back. “I…hear stories.”

“What kind of stories?” I replied, reaching out to brush my fingers against a leaf. 

“Stories about my wayward padawan.”

I pursed my lips to keep from smiling. To some, it’d be insulting to be called padawan once they’d ascended to being a knight, but being Master Kenobi’s padawan was always a good thing to me. “Oh?” I asked vaguely, even though I could probably guess some of what he’d heard. “What do they say?”

“Well,” Master Kenobi ran a hand over his beard, “they say you fought a whole pack of Nexu on Cholganna.”

“Grossly exaggerated,” I said lightly. “I only fought three.”

Master Kenobi snorted, and I felt suddenly too warm for my cloak as I grinned back at him. “And your run-in with Aurra Sing? I suppose the two of you didn’t actually resort to fisticuffs?”

“Well,” I lifted my chin, “that’s true, but she was asking for it."

“No doubt you were also.”

“Just the opposite,” I replied. “I was trying to heal one of her coworkers, but some people just won’t be told.”

Master Kenobi’s merry laughter filled the hall, and I couldn’t help smiling at him. Was it possible that our old normal could return so quickly? Just as I thought the thought, his smile faded. “I also heard you lost part of your hearing in one ear.”

Had he truly been keeping such close tabs on me to know about my hearing? I nodded, solemn. “An explosion on Bora Vio.” I swallowed, looking down at the leaf as I remembered the pain of the blast. “I’m lucky a bit of my hearing is all I lost. Not even the best of us can make it through a war unscathed.” I glanced up to see Master Kenobi smiling down at me in a way that reminded me of our past. “Unless, perhaps, you’re Obi-Wan Kenobi.”

Master Kenobi’s face fell. “I’m far from unscathed.”

Panic flared in my stomach. “Is everything alright? Are you injured?”

“I’m quite well,” Master Kenobi assured me. I instinctively reached out with the Force, searching for any sign of pain or damage. Master Kenobi raised his eyebrows. “I see the healer training has paid off?”

My cheeks warmed as I quickly withdrew the Force. “Yes…it has. Vokara Che has been a wonderful instructor.” 

“Well?” Master Kenobi turned, holding out his hands. “What’s the verdict?”

I gave him a sideways look. His light seemed brighter than it’d been when first I sensed it before he joined the council meeting. The exhaustion was still there, as was the fear, but somehow the light gave off more warmth than before. “You’re not injured,” I replied, the only thing I was sure of.

“As I assured you.”

We reached the center of the courtyard, which was a plain yet polished marble circle. Master Kenobi sat down, and I sat across from him. I closed my eyes and breathed deeply.

The awareness started with myself.

Then it crept along the floor around me, the radius spreading until I was aware of the dozens of lives around me. Plants. Creatures. Jedi. I could sense the movement of the transits and speeders, carting people around this planet bursting with life.

But none of it compared to the light that sat directly in front of me.

Truly, I’d never felt anything more vibrant or mighty through the Force than Master Kenobi’s signature. If he ever happened to step foot on one of the dark planets like Dagobah or Mustafar, I was certain the planets would have a historic appearance of sunshine. 

Somewhere deep within me, there was a pull towards that light. Was it in my stomach? Or in my chest? Or perhaps even my head?

I couldn’t tell, but the Force seemed to sort of gather in between myself and the light, growing more and more dense.

Then a sharp tug came from nowhere, and because I was so in tune, I couldn’t stop it. 

My head jerked forward, only to collide with something so hard, I saw stars. “Ouch!” I blurted, opening my eyes and rubbing my smarting forehead. 

Master Kenobi mirrored me. “What in the blazes?” he muttered. 

“I don’t know,” I replied. I hadn’t leaned close enough to invade Master Kenobi’s space, unless…he leaned too?

With my eyes open, I couldn’t see the strange collection of the Force anymore, but I could’ve sworn I felt the Force laughing, and if I could feel it, Master Kenobi could feel it too. From the looks of him, he didn’t understand it any more than I did. 

The comm at my wrist dinged, and Master Windu’s voice filtered through.

“Knight Y/L/N, the attendant has arrived to dress you for your mission tonight.”

Head still aching, I pressed the button on the comm. “I’m on my way.” I gave Master Kenobi a quick, apologetic smile as I started to get to my feet. “Duty calls.”

“I’ll see you tonight then.”

I froze, paused in a sort of awkward crouch. “Tonight?” I echoed.

Master Kenobi’s mysterious smile filled me with the feeling I stood at the edge of a cliff. “I volunteered to be your backup for the mission.”

-

“The council agreed to this?” I asked for the millionth time as I looked at my reflection. 

“Yes, ma’am.” The attendant didn’t falter in her…attending.

Truthfully, I couldn’t explain what she was doing. She whirled around with brushes and bottles and sparkly adornments. Every movement she made directly correlated to my reflection morphing from a humble Jedi Knight to a midnight woman of decadence. 

The deep blue velvet dress clung so tightly to my body, I felt like it was strangling me. Draped over me were strands of precious stones of white, blue, and silver that caught the light every time I breathed. A matching hairpiece rested in my elaborate hairdo. The white, translucent gloves the attendant helped me put on helped me cope with how bare I felt, but the feeling of air against my collarbones and my back made me periodically shiver.

I’d never had this much of my skin exposed, nor the outlines of my body so easily made out. As the attendant had told me, the council approved, but I didn’t know if they’d seen the dress and approved it. Somehow, the idea of them all discussing the garment I was now wearing made me more uncomfortable in it than before and even more uncomfortable than when Master Windu commented on my Separatist-buyer-pleasing physique. 

And yet, strangely, as my appearance distanced me from the Jedi Code, the Force remained steady. It was comforting to know the Force could recognize me in spite of the sudden splendor.

I might've looked like someone else entirely, but I was still me inside.

The brush strokes on my lips ceased, and the attendant stepped back to study my reflection in the mirror. “You look perfect,” she said with great satisfaction, closing her trunk of paints and jewelry. 

I wanted to argue, but what did I know about such things? I rose from the chair and nearly toppled over, reaching out to steady myself. “How do I walk in this?” I grumbled, shuffling forward.

“Gracefully,” the attendant replied. “Here are your shoes.”

My eyes widened as she held up the platforms.

-

I stood nervously at the top of the stairs, looking down at the distance I somehow had to cover. I had a sinking feeling that these platforms made stairs dangerous, but there was no other way down. 

Lifting the skirts up enough to be able to see my feet, I stepped down, not looking away from the floor. I knew the moment I lifted my gaze, I would trip and ruin the attendant’s hard work as well as breaking my neck. 

Only halfway down the stairs, the Force shifted around me, as if it were parting for someone’s gaze. I stopped where I was and looked up.

Master Kenobi stood at the bottom of the stairs now, gazing up at me with an odd expression on his face. His expression resembled Ghon’s whenever I tried to explain that a visible lightsaber could be perceived as a threat to non-Jedi. 

“I know, it’s strange,” I said, redirecting my gaze downward to resume my treacherous descent. “I don’t even look like myself.”

“No,” Master Kenobi slowly said as I finally reached the bottom of the stairs, free to look up again. “No, you don’t.”

I nodded, pleased that he agreed. But when I opened my mouth to say something along those lines, I noticed how Master Kenobi’s eyes seemed to linger on the necklace around my throat. I lifted a hand to make sure it was still in place. “Blinding, isn’t it?”

“It certainly…demands…attention.” Master Kenobi cleared his throat, meeting my eyes. “The buyer will be pleased.”

I cast about for something to say in response, suddenly feeling my cheeks warm. “Hopefully Master Windu was correct about the type of company this buyer prefers.”

Master Kenobi’s face didn’t change, but the light took on a slight yet sickening green tint. He stepped to my side, turning to gesture down the street. “Shall we?”

“We’re walking?” I glanced towards the path and the great yawning distance before us.

“Is that a problem?” Master Kenobi asked.

I looked down at my shoes. I’d never walked long distances with them before. Surely it wouldn’t be an issue, even if I had to take smaller steps than I was used to. 

Quickly, I was proven wrong. 

I was moving slower than a Hutt, and it only took maybe twenty steps in the ridiculous shoes before my feet started to hurt. 

Night was falling in Coruscant, and the bustling nightlife didn’t seem to take much notice of a beautiful woman walking beside a Jedi Master. I envied Master Kenobi for being able to remain in his normal attire, but I supposed he wasn’t the one executing the mission. 

I opened my mouth, ready to ask Master Kenobi where he would be while I was in the club, but just then, my ankle wobbled. I flung my arms out to catch my balance. 

Unfortunately, the jerky movement sent my elbow flying into Master Kenobi’s gut.

“Oof!” he grunted, his hands coming up to grab my arm, helping me stay on my feet even through his pain.

“Sorry!” I said quickly. 

Instead of falling away, his calloused hands gently moved up my arm, offering me aid in my balance and offering something else entirely. “Here,” he said lightly. “Lean on me.”

We walked the rest of the way with my arm tucked into the crook of his elbow. 

With his aid, it was much easier to stay on my own feet, and I wished we could’ve walked the whole way arm in arm. Strange how being with him made me feel like a padawan again, as if with him, I had the option to not be strong. It felt almost like a luxury.

Master Kenobi stopped me when we were two blocks away from the club. “Here.” He dropped a comm into my hand. “I’ll stay here, out of sight.”

The sudden reminder of the situation made my chest tighten. I swore off all luxuries when I became a Jedi. It was time to be the Knight I’d been trained to be, the Knight Master Kenobi trained me to be. I squared my shoulders, gave a short nod, and then made the rest of the trip on my own. 

-

The novelty of my midnight dress had worn off. The cocoon of soft fabric against my skin felt wrong, and I missed the telltale scrape of my roughspun tunic against my skin. This self-serving grandeur wasn’t in line with the vows I’d taken. As I glanced around at the expensively clad bodies and breathed the air rank with alcohol, all I wanted was to be back in the temple.

Back in the garden. 

Master Kenobi wasn’t my only back-up. Alateen, a Rodian male I'd first met on his home planet, stood behind the counter. He also had a comm linked to Master Kenobi, and it was him that supplied me with the blue-tinted, tasteless and non-alcoholic drinks that matched with liquid sloshing around in the glasses of everyone around me. While drinking wasn’t expressly against the Jedi Code, I needed all my wits about me tonight.

“When was the senator supposed to get here?” I asked, lifting my glass to my lips to hide their movements.

“Fifteen minutes ago.”

I could tell from the edge to Master Kenobi’s serious voice that he was approaching no insignificant levels of stress.

I set the glass down, lifting my hand to delicately brush at invisible drops on my lips. “How long are we going to wait for their appearance?”

“At least a little longer.”

“You’re lucky,” I grumbled. “You can’t hear all the clammer and clatter.” The dull roar of music, conversation, and laughter was overwhelming. Master Kenobi couldn’t hear any of it and as a result wouldn’t have a raging headache later.

I missed the calm of the temple garden, meditating in silence, feeling the Force all around me. This place was so crowded, I barely felt like I had room to exist.

A Vurk male stumbled against my table, hitting it with such force, my drink toppled over, dumping half the contents onto my lap. “Ugh!” I grunted.

“What’s wrong?” The immediacy with which Master Kenobi’s voice came through the comm made me smile softly. 

“It’s okay.” I grabbed the cloth napkin and started wiping up the liquid. “Someone just knocked over my drink.”

“Do you want me to tell Alateen that you need another one?”

The Rodian male was leaning over the counter, talking very animatedly with a grinning Twi’lek female. “I think he’s otherwise engaged.”

“I’ll tell him,” Master Kenobi said gruffly.

“No, don’t.” I sighed, tossing the wet napkin onto the table. “There’s no point in having back-up if–”

“Well hello.”

That voice...the voice from many a nightmare I’d had in the past few months.

I jumped to my feet, whipping around to face the speaker. My heart kicked up into a ratchet pace, making me breathless. I stared into the soulless eyes I’d dreaded seeing since the first time I looked into them.

“Dooku,” I whispered in horror. 

“WHAT?!” Master Kenobi shouted into my comm.

Dooku’s hand shot forward, clenching my wrist before my fingers could graze the knife I had concealed. “Don’t say a word, or my agent will kill yours.” I glanced over at Alateen and noticed, for the first time, the way the Twi’lek’s hand lingered over the blaster strapped to her thigh.

“Y/N?” Master Kenobi’s voice asked. “Y/N, what’s going on?” I remained silent, staring at Dooku.“Talk to me! Where do you see Dooku?”

Dooku let go of my hand and pulled out my chair, a gentlemanly action to all those watching, but I wasn’t fooled. Alateen’s life depended on my cooperation. 

“Can you hear me?!”

I did my best to ignore his voice as I sat. Dooku took a seat across from me, looking as stiff and yet put together as he did while standing.

“I’m on my way, Y/N, just tell me if you’re alright!”

Dooku slid my drink across the table towards me. “Pull out your comm. Drop it in.”

“Y/N!”

My head urged me to obey Dooku, but my heart shouted back, begging me to say something to Master Kenobi. Dooku lifted his hand to his own ear. “Stoma, Y/N needs convincing.”

My eyes darted over to the Twi’lek, who gripped her blaster with her hand out of Alateen’s sight.

“No!” I burst out before clapping a hand over my mouth.

“Y/N, are you hurt?! Tell me–”

I yanked the comm out of my ear and dropped it into my drink. “I’m sorry, okay? Call off your agent.”

Dooku rested his hand on the table, palm down. A miniature countdown projected above his hand where a small black gadget rested. “In a moment, you’re going to stand up and follow me into the backroom.”

“Where are we going?”

Dooku fixed me with a look and said nothing. 

“What do you want with me?”

No reply.

“What about Alateen?” I asked. “If you hurt him–”

“Obey me and he won’t come to any unnecessary harm.”

“Unnecessary?” I asked, eyeing the numbers above his wrist. I had less than ten seconds left.

“One has to make sure your agent isn’t in a state to follow us.”

He’d thought this through. Everything had been accounted for. 

My heart sank. This was a trap, and I was already caught in it because all I could do was watch as the time counted down.

Three.

Two.

O-

With a loud boom, smoke filled the club. Screams reached my ears as the smoke made my eyes burn enough to make tears well up. Before I could reach up to rub at them, Count Dooku had firmly grasped my upper arm, leading me towards the bar. He didn’t drag me. He didn’t need to.

I reached out with the Force and immediately felt Alateen’s beating heart. With a bit of exertion, I could feel his unharmed body. He was unconscious, but so far, Dooku was telling the truth. 

My platformed foot ran into the doorway Dooku pulled me through, making me trip, but his death grip on my arm kept me upright. Once we were through, I turned to ask Dooku what was next. 

Before I could, I felt his hand on my shoulder and a sharp prick in my neck.

The last thing I remembered before my vision went black was the floor rushing to meet me as my knees buckled.

-

My head pounded. 

I squeezed my eyes shut tighter against the pain, but it didn’t lessen. 

As more awareness returned to me, I noticed the strange, aching position of my shoulders. I tried to shift, but I couldn’t move more than an inch. What was happening? 

“You’re awake.”

I jolted, my eyes flying open as I tried to step back. 

And didn’t get very far.

My heart sank as I looked up at the reflective surface of the metal chains which trailed from the ceiling and bound my wrists, keeping them aloft above my head. I looked down to see the dress, the jewelry, the gloves, and the sparkling strands of stones were gone, leaving me only in undershorts and a thin undertunic that I definitely hadn’t been wearing under the dress. My bare feet were freezing against the floor. I studied the wall in front of me, which seemed made of stone, but not smooth stone. It felt like the room was a cave, reinforced by the only source of light in the room being the open doorway behind me.

And when I twisted my neck, straining against the chains to give myself room to look, a figure stood in the doorway. Based on the silhouette, which was all I could make out, it could’ve been anybody.

But I could feel that same signature I’d felt before and knew exactly who it was.

Where were we? How long had it been since he’d knocked me unconscious in the club? Why had he taken me?

“What do you want with me?” I asked. He wasn’t the Jedi council; it didn’t matter if he judged me for asking questions. Dooku didn’t answer, and I felt nothing shift in his emotions. Either my questions didn’t matter to him or he was shielding himself completely.

He seemed to be in no rush. He just stood behind me, watching me. I could feel the weight of his gaze on my face. The weight turned into a distinct probing through the Force.

I let him probe away.

I wasn’t going to resort to Sith techniques.

Dooku walked slowly around, his face now illuminated in the light. “Apologies for the crude bonds. This planet doesn’t like technology, so we had to be a bit primitive.”

We were on a planet with high moisture then. Or perhaps a heavy gravitational pull?

“It’s high moisture,” said Dooku, making me pause. He was tapping into my thoughts. I stiffened, turning away from him, as if it were my face he gleaned the information from, not the Force. Why couldn’t he just hurry up and tell me what was going on?

The probing increased.

“Do you think I can’t feel you?” I asked.

“Why aren’t you stopping me?” Dooku asked. He stepped closer. “Push me out.”

I settled my gaze on him. So this was his game. He wanted to bully me into using a Sith technique. “No.”

A sharp searing pain shot through my head, and I sucked in a breath. As quickly as it came, it left. I’d only felt something like it once before.

“You felt me,” I blurted out. “On Taris. When I meditated, you found my signature and you cut me off.”

Dooku’s face remained impassive. “I assumed you were Kenobi.” 

How was that possible? Dooku said himself that I had darkness in my signature, and Master Kenobi’s signature was like pure light.

The pain lanced through my head again, cutting off my train of thought. “Push me out.”

“No.”

The pain was worse this time, enough to make a strangled groan leave my lips.

“Ahhh,” Dooku said. “I had a feeling Kenobi wouldn’t let you do such a mission on your own.”

I jerked my head up at him, feeling suddenly as though I were going to throw up. “What are you doing?”

"Imagine what he must've felt, storming into that establishment, only to find you were already gone." Dooku clasped his hands behind his back. “A worthy opponent is no good if there's no one to fight."

“If you wanted to fight Master Kenobi, you should’ve stayed on Coruscant.”

“And fight on his home turf?”

“I never took you for a coward,” I replied.

“Only a fool would fight a battle he does not need to.” The probing resumed, and Dooku tilted his head. “You have a padawan waiting for you on Coruscant, do you?”

My shields were half up before I even realized it. I forced them down. 

“He’s quite attached, is he not? The council doesn’t like that.”

I kept my shields open, silently apologizing to my padawan for putting him in danger. I could only hope that I returned to him in time to keep him safe.

“He’s young. Impressionable.”

An image formed in my mind, an image I hadn’t created, of an older Ghon dressed in black, wielding a red lightsaber.

“Stop that!” I blurted. 

“Do it yourself,” he replied. “Push me out.” I shook my head.

This time, the strike of pain spread down through my neck and into my chest and lingered longer. I let out a pained hiss as my heart contracted painfully under the strain. “What do you want from me?” I cried out in desperation.

“I want you to be the Jedi your master raised you to be!” Dooku thundered back.

I blinked at him, not understanding. Why would he want me to be more like Master Kenobi? Why would he want me to be more of a worthy opponent when he already had me where he wanted me?

Then it clicked. 

Pong Krell.

Of course.

Because everything always came back to him.

Master Kenobi was right on Taris; the attention Count Dooku was giving me stemmed from both of my masters. I looked at Dooku with new eyes. “You set a trap for me.” The ripple of darkness told me I was right. “You planted the information about the buyer and the type of women the buyer liked. You knew the council would send me.” They’d unknowingly delivered me right to him, gift-wrapped in a midnight blue dress.

Not even a hint of a victorious smile lingered on Dooku’s face. He didn’t revel. He only fixed me with a determined look. “Show me you’re Pong Krell’s padawan.”

I released a long breath. “No. Because I am the Jedi my true master raised me to be. And I will remain that Jedi until the bitter end.”

The pain reached all the way down to my hips this time. 

Again and again, Dooku repeated his command. 

Again and again, I refused.

Each time, the pain increased. When my body started to shake, rattling the chains above my head, I stopped keeping count.

-

There seemed to be no pattern to Dooku’s appearances. 

Now, whenever I refused him, I felt the pain from my head to my toes, and I was sure that every visit, the pain increased. Dooku didn’t seem amused by the pain nor did he seem to enjoy inflicting it. He was dogged in his pursuit of getting me to push him out.

Every time I almost broke, I thought of Master Kenobi, who’d hidden himself from the Force on Taris to protect me and wondered if I was endangering Ghon by not shielding. 

But I’d worked so hard to undo what Krell had done. How could I revert right back to it?

“No one’s coming to rescue you,” Dooku said during one of his visits. “You can feel the council’s doubt, don’t you? They see Krell in you just like I do, only they see it as a weakness.”

“That is their responsibility,” I’d replied. “Mine is to be the best Jedi I can be.”

The pain was horrid…but being left alone in the darkness was worse, because with the darkness came the scratching sounds.

There must’ve been some kind of rodent in my cell that came out in the dark because I never heard the scratching sounds when Dooku was there. That or I was starting to hallucinate. It wouldn’t be too far-fetched a conclusion; my hands were starting to shake from lack of food, and there was an unswallowable pain in my throat from lack of water. Three times since I’d woken up the first time in this cell, a human male brought me enough water to sate my thirst. Once he even brought some rations. When I tried to ask questions, he just stared at me and did not answer.

I had no way of knowing if Dooku sent him or if he was defying Dooku to help me. Either way, the food was only enough to remind me just how close I was to starving.

Unfortunately, even if my hands were free and a Jedi healer could heal themselves, hunger couldn’t be healed. I’d treated enough starving citizens throughout the Clone Wars to know that. 

As I listened to the horrible scratching sounds, I wondered if I would ever get the chance to heal someone again.

-

My head lolled back, and I stared up into the darkness where the ceiling was supposed to be.

Dooku had been more forceful this time. Perhaps he hadn’t expected me to hold on so long, however long I’d been here.

I had no way of knowing how much time had passed. There was no window for me to see day or night passing. If Dooku came into the cell once a day, it’d been a least a week since I was taken, but I had no way of knowing for sure. Perhaps he came twice a day. Or even every hour. Every period alone in the dark felt like ages. 

The longer I spent in this cell, the more my hopes of being rescued dwindled. If I was simply a hostage, I would’ve been returned or killed by now. If the council were organizing a rescue, would it have taken this long?

I was certain that the remainder of my days would be spent in this cell. I wished I felt the peace of the Force, but I could only feel the trickles of desperation Dooku clearly wanted me to feel. When would this end? Would it end with Dooku’s lightsaber buried in my gut? Or would it end with my body surrendering my spirit? 

-

My head lulled forward, breaking me out of my light sleep. I groaned as I lifted it to stretch it out. Now my neck ached as much as the rest of my upper body, but I still didn’t have the effort to hold it up. I could only rest it on one of my shoulders. It was freezing, but my body was too tired to shiver.

Today was surely it.

I could feel the Force in me going out like the ocean tides of Pabu, as if it were preparing me to leave myself and unite with it once more. 

As Jedi, we strived for the peace that came with the acceptance of death, and yet facing the prospect of my own was only wearying.

Had the council told Ghon of my capture? Probably, considering my mission was only supposed to last for an evening. Stars, I hoped that whoever told Ghon did so gently, for it was a heavy burden for any padawan to bear, and he was so young.

Well, my second master had far exceeded my first one. Maybe Ghon would get lucky in that way too. 

The sound of the door behind me scraping open reached my ears, and even with my eyes closed, the light of the open doorway was blinding.

“Y/N.”

The sound was far away, yet I shrank from it, expecting the pain that swiftly followed any sound. 

“Y/N.”

I knew that voice. My eyes fluttered, but it hurt too badly to keep them open. Something tugged on the chain holding my left arm up, and I let out a whimper as it pulled on my desperately sore muscles. 

“Y/N, it’s Obi-Wan.”

Obi-Wan.

Not Master Kenobi.

Obi-Wan.

“Obi…” My scratchy voice sounded like nothing I’d heard before.

“Shhhhh, save your strength, it’s alright, I’m here.”

I peeled my eyes open again, fighting the drag long enough to catch sight of the deeply concerned features of my favorite face in the galaxy.

My eyes fell shut again.

My body and mind had officially given up if they were conjuring such a welcome sight as Obi-Wan. Yet the impossible granted me an inkling of peace. Thank you, I said to the Force. For letting me say goodbye before taking me. I tilted my chin down to the ground, ready to give up.

The door scraped shut, throwing me back into darkness. Fingers tilted my chin up once more. “Open your eyes,” said my master’s voice. Instead of his voice getting further and further away, it was getting louder.

Confusion swirled, giving me enough strength to obey. I blinked but there was only darkness again. “I’m getting you out of here.”

Was this…could it be…?

My hopes rose.

“Darling, you have to hide your feelings,” Obi-Wan’s voice hissed. 

The hopes fell dead, dashed against the rocks of reality.

I’d never once known Obi-Wan to call someone by a pet name.

This was another trick, a new strategy of Dooku’s to get me to comply. How cruel, to take advantage of my failing mind to summon the image of my master, the very man I would never be able to resist. 

But resist I did.

If I’d made this far, I couldn’t cave now, not when the peace of death was so near.

“Y/N,” said the equally blessed and cursed voice. “Please, you have to hide yourself or he’ll find us.”

No. I am a Jedi.

“I know, but if we’re going to get out of here, you have to.” The sound of his pleading voice was far worse than any other pain Dooku had inflicted on me. I felt a mouth hovering by my ear. “Y/N, if I ever earned your trust, listen to me now. You have to raise your shields.” Even the graze of his beard against my cheek felt real, dwarfed only by the wave of despair crashing over me. “C’mon, honey, do it for me.” 

I let out a whimper, knowing there was only one way to make this vision stop.

I’m sorry, I thought miserably, I can’t take anymore. I squeezed my already shut eyes tighter, shrinking away from the Force and waiting for the cruel vision to fade.

It was like losing one of my arms. Or cutting off a friend. Or falling with no hope of ever hitting ground.

It’d been only seconds of separation, but my body was colder, weaker, and hurting more and more every second. How had I survived cutting myself off from the Force under Krell?

I didn’t like it.

I didn’t like it at all.

But the fingers kept stroking my cheek. “That’s it, that’s it.”

Why was the vision still here? Dooku could only project it through the Force, and I’d pulled away from it. The vision should’ve faded, which meant…

My eyes flew open, and I wished more than ever that there was light so I could see my master. I tried to say his name, but my voice failed. 

The finger underneath my chin disappeared, and once again, there was a tug at my bindings. A strained whimper broke through my lips. “I know, I know it hurts, but I have to get you out–” He froze and then whispered under his breath: “Hells, he’s coming.”

Before I could muster up any thoughts or movements, all of Obi-Wan’s touch disappeared. I struggled against my restraints, the despair returning. There was a tiny, invisible caress on my cheek. “I’m here,” he whispered. “I’m here, but you have to shut yourself off.”

I hadn’t realized, in my panic, I’d reconnected with the Force.

I had barely enough time to lift my mental shields before the door scraped open again.

“Oh,” Dooku said from his place in the doorway. “Today is the day, then?” I heard the silent scraping of Dooku’s boot against the floor, drawing nearer and nearer. “Today,” he murmured, his voice far too close for comfort, “today, you give in.”

I managed to lift my head to see his keen eyes watching me.

I wanted to hurl a statement at him or even spit on the dungeon floor. I wanted to show him defiance, to tell him that he didn’t get to revel in my pain. But there was none left in me. I didn’t even have the energy to speak. I simply lowered my head again, shutting my eyes, hoping his visit would be quick today.

“You know you can’t live much longer.” His boots walked slowly around me. “Are you trying to die privately?” he asked. “Or are you trying to protect Kenobi from feeling the moment your life ends?”

I didn’t answer, even as my heart twinged in my chest.

There was a pause as the sound of his boots finished his rotation. He didn’t speak the words, but I felt the hidden message: join me.

My lips parted as I mustered all my strength. “I'm...” The word sounded no louder than a gentle breeze. “I'm a Jedi."

Dooku pushed his face close. “Jedi don’t shield themselves from the Force,” he said. “You’ve already given in. And for your submission, I think it’s time you got some food.” 

Guilt stabbed at my gut, and I was not comforted by the fact that Dooku couldn’t feel it. 

Dooku walked out of the room, the door sliding shut. 

Obi-Wan, wherever he was hiding, let out a long breath of relief. 

My body couldn’t even flinch at the blinding blue light that suddenly flashed through the chamber, nor at the screech of the chains as Obi-Wan’s lightsaber cut clean through them. 

For the first time in I didn’t know how long, my arms lowered past my shoulders. Unable to do anything, I collapsed, closing my eyes in preparation for hitting the floor. 

Instead of cool stone, however, my shoulder collided with a warm body, my head falling to rest on a broad chest. 

“I’ve got you.”

Obi-Wan lowered me to the ground. I had many questions, many expressions of relief ready to leave my tongue, but all I could manage was a high-pitched: “ouch.” It ripped through my dry throat, and I swallowed hard, trying to gather myself to say more. 

Obi-Wan wrapped his arms around me, offering me a modicum of warmth. “Where’s your dress?” he whispered.

I managed to shake my head. I don’t know.

Obi-Wan rubbed my arms up and down. He was probably trying to generate warmth, but the feeling of his hands on my skin was strangely painful. Then, his hands disappeared for a moment before wrapping a cloak around me, perhaps the one he’d been wearing himself. 

How long? I strained to ask as he wrapped the cloak around my neck, the clasp laying cold and heavy on my bare skin. I croaked twice, the croaks somewhat resembling the words. 

“Too long,” Obi-Wan whispered. “Eleven days.”

Eleven days.

My head felt too full and too empty to process the weight that came with the timeline. 

“Come on, up you get,” he said lowly. His arms hooked under my arms, pulling me upright. Another grunt burst through my lips as my muscles lit up like fire. “I know it hurts.” Obi-Wan pulled my arm around his neck, his steady body keeping me straight. “But we must leave before Dooku returns.”

He pulled me to my feet, and I nearly buckled.

“I know, I know, but I can’t hold my lightsaber if I carry you. You have to walk, Y/N, I need you to walk.”

And then we were walking.

Even as my feet and legs moved, my eyes fell shut, too tired to stay open. If it had been anyone else, I would’ve just laid on the floor, but it was Obi-Wan, so I would keep going.

I heard an electronic ding, and I opened my eyes just in time to see a door sliding away to reveal a barren, frozen wasteland I recognized.

No.

Not this infernal planet again.

The cold Neftali wind blew past my body, and my shivering began anew, but no complaint of any kind could pass through my lips before Obi-Wan dragged me into the snow.

Oh, it was so much worse than my memory made it out to be.

My bare feet were numb in almost an instant.

Obi-Wan couldn’t move carefully, not if he was going to get through the snow, but every movement of his body pulled at a part of mine that ached even as my body was quickly going numb. “Just a little further,” Obi-Wan kept saying as he half-led, half-dragged me. “Just a bit further.”

I pulled the cloak as tight around me as it would go. Even though it was thin, it was better than the brutal winds on my bare skin. I didn’t know where Obi-Wan was leading me, and without the Force, I couldn’t sense anything about my surroundings. 

“Just a little more.”

“Stop,” I panted. I felt horrible for saying it, considering Obi-Wan was practically carrying me, but I couldn’t walk anymore.

Obi-Wan came to a stop, gently lowering me to sit on the snow. I clutched onto his arms with my weak grip, which wouldn’t have kept me upright at all, had he not held me up. I desperately tried to catch my breath.

While my master’s appearance revived my spirit, my body was still shutting down.

“I’m…okay,” I managed to say. “Need…breath.”

Oh, every word was a colossal effort, and judging by the speed with which Obi-Wan’s eyebrows drew together, they weren’t as comforting as I’d intended.

“We need to–” He broke off as the distant sounds of voices reached us.

I wanted to cry. I couldn’t go any farther yet, not one single step, but our enemies drew ever nearer. The longer we stayed here, the more likely we were going to get caught. Between the snow and the dungeon, I would rather perish in the snow than be dragged back to that place. 

I couldn’t let Obi-Wan get caught, not when he came to rescue me. I looked up into his worried face, trying to summon the strength to move. It didn’t matter if I died on this planet, but if Dooku captured Obi-Wan, he’d subject him to the same pain he’d subjected me to. 

Clutching at Obi-Wan’s arms, I tried to sit up. 

Obi-Wan’s hand shot out, pressing down on my shoulder. His expression was pinched and cloudy with thought. “Okay,” he said to himself, seeming to come to some decision. “Okay, Y/N, you need to stay here, I’ll draw them away.”

“No!” My arms were weaker than my voice, but I still managed to grab ahold of him before he could slip away. Don’t be an idiot!

“I’m sorry, Y/N, I thought we’d have more time, but I have to lead them away.”

“Don’t–”

“Wait here for me.” Obi-Wan easily peeled my hand off his arm, squeezing it tightly. “I’ll come back, I promise.”

“Obi–”

Obi-Wan lurched forward, resting one hand on each side of my head as he pressed a kiss to my hairline, his beard scratching against my skin. And with that, he took off running. Blue light appeared as he activated his lightsaber, but soon, he disappeared altogether.

Even as my terror about Obi-Wan’s safety ricocheted through my brain, my eyes fell closed.

I’d seen many bodies suffer too much to hold on, but I’d never experienced it. Is this what it’d felt like for every patient I’d ever lost? Was this how much energy it took simply to hold on?

A grim certainty settled over me. If I stayed here in the cold much longer, my body would officially give up.

The sound of more voices became discernible over the roaring that could’ve been from the storm or could’ve just been in my own head. The voices grew closer. 

Did it matter much if they found me? 

No.

But would Obi-Wan endanger himself again to rescue me and get captured himself?

I couldn’t risk it. 

The desperation got me moving. Slowly, I managed to get to my hands and knees and started to crawl. 

I didn’t look up, not wanting to know how far I still had to go. I just kept crawling and crawling and crawling. 

The bunker, I remembered. But where was it? And how could I find it without the Force leading me?

Without the Force, I had no idea if I was even headed in the correct direction. If I’d been thinking clearly, I would’ve waited for Obi-Wan, but I didn’t, and now I was lost. He wouldn’t be able to find me when he was cut off from the Force, but reconnecting to it would bring Dooku right to him. 

Too tired to do anything, I half rolled, half collapsed onto my side, my arms falling limply to the ground as my head came to rest. The biting cold snow against my face hurt, but I couldn’t muster up energy to lift it.

Soon enough, I didn’t feel the cold anymore, nor the wet snow against my body, not even the thumping of my headache.

Everything was silent.

Everything was hazy.

And then everything was nothing at all.

-

Part 5

Overall tag list:

@thelastpyle @valiantlytransparentwhispers

Rescue Me tag list:

@penfullofwordsaheadfullofstories @starlazergazer @blackqueengold @ajwild220 @exploringalaxiesfarfaraway @mortallycrispyglitter @nerdory10 @shinybananapastanickel @sassysaxxy @sunshine-girl013 @fablesrose @marrily @friskynotebook @burnthecheshirewitch @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @thriving-n-jiving

[deepspacedukat]

Good Catch

This is just a little plot bunny that hopped into my brain. Literally no idea why, it just happened. So...enjoy! 😇

If anyone wants to be added to or removed from my taglist, let me know!

Cross-posted to AO3 here.

~*~

Vorik (ST:VOY) x Reader

[A/N: This is fluff with mild suggestiveness and a brief mention of a previous instance of Pon Farr.]

Warnings: Interspecies romance, Human/Vulcan romance, mild fear, idiots in love, both think their feelings are unrequited, mutual pining, angst, brief mention of past Pon Farr, spoilers for ST:VOY S3E16 "Blood Fever", mild spoilers for ST:VOY S4E1 "Scorpion Pt. 2", the beginning would make more sense if you watch S4E1 first but it's not entirely necessary, and I assume that you've seen "Blood Fever" if you're reading Vorik fanfics, so...🤷‍♀️, kissing, Vulcan hand-holding, touch telepathy, idk what else to put here because it's really just fluff.

~*~

The tension on the ship was already palpable when the chaos started. Everyone was on edge because of our uneasy alliance with a Borg cube, wondering how long it would be before they turned on us and tried to assimilate Voyager. The fact that Species 8472 had turned out to be hostile as well did nothing to alleviate the crew's stress.

With enemies in front of and behind us, all we could do was try to prepare to the best of our ability. I just hoped it would be enough. Vorik had been silent on our way to Engineering for the start of our shift. The silence itself wasn't troubling - Vorik was often contemplative early in the day - but the small frown just barely pinching his brows together...that was worrying.

Inquiring about his well-being had earned me no more than a noncommittal, murmured deflection. All I could think to do was give him a gentle smile and rest one hand briefly on his shoulder. Shockingly, that seemed to help. His forehead relaxed, smoothing out into his usual, calm, neutral expression.

For the next few hours, I noted that whenever I glanced over at his station, the Ensign seemed to have retained whatever sense of ease he'd regained in the corridor that morning.

Soon, however, all thoughts outside of my duties were wiped away. Red alerts began blaring, and it was all hands on deck as we struggled to regain control of Voyager from the Borg.

I'd just begun to cross the second level to access a different terminal when the ship gave an almighty jolt. Before I could brace myself, I was thrown toward the warp core. The low railing struck my back, and I let out a yelp of pain and fear as I began to tumble over the side.

Instead of finding myself flattened or shattered by the fall, however, a vice-like grip on my arm stopped my momentum and tugged me against a sturdy, warm chest. I grabbed at the shoulders of my savior, trembling with residual shock. Only after the ship steadied itself did I manage to catch my breath and glance upward.

Looking down at me with a protectiveness that I had never before witnessed from him, Vorik's shining brown eyes met mine.

"Thank you," I managed to squeak out, but speaking seemed as difficult for him as I'd found it to be. Instead, he nodded his head once and pressed our foreheads carefully together. Vorik knew I was terrified of heights.

After a moment, though, we were forced to pull away from each other and go tend to our duties. Short-lived comfort was all we could manage at times like that. Being stuck in fluidic space after we'd been forced there by the last surviving Borg onboard Voyager was definitely not the right moment to become distracted by our personal tension, even if it had been growing for years.

I knew nothing would ever truly happen between us, though. If he'd seen me as a viable partner, Vorik would've approached me when his pon farr happened the year before. Instead he'd gone for B'Elanna Torres, and I'd forced myself to stay away from him.

I'd requested a transfer to the night shift so that I wouldn't be on duty at the same time as him, and the few moments where our schedules overlapped, I tried to find reasons to be busy in other places.

Yes, his interest in someone else had stung, so I decided that until my own stupid feelings cooled down a bit, I'd keep my distance. Mostly, I just didn't want to embarrass myself in front of him. After all, that Vulcan could read me like a book, and at that particular point, I didn't want him to ponder my emotional state too closely. If he hadn't caught on to the fact that I loved him prior to his pon farr, I certainly wasn't going to change that after he'd made his non-interest known.

I hadn't been rude to him in the aftermath, especially since he was being viewed so poorly by so many of the crew for attacking B'Elanna in engineering, but I hadn't gone out of my way to talk to him, either. The whole situation was a mess, and although I didn't want him to feel alone, I definitely wanted to limit the number of opportunities that I had to make an ass of myself.

Eventually, though, it all came to a head one morning when I'd just finished my shift. As I approached the hall where my quarters were, I saw a familiar head of fluffy back hair standing at attention outside my door.

"Vorik?" I called, and he looked quickly in my direction. Standing even straighter - a feat that I hadn't believed possible - the Ensign acted formally, as if he was addressing a superior officer.

"Ensign, forgive me for disturbing you at this hour, but I...had hoped to speak with you in private," he said in that low, gentle voice that I...oh, I'd missed him more than I anticipated! I blinked in surprise, and opened the door to my quarters, answering his question.

"Would you like some tea or water or something? I know you need to go on duty soon, and I have some extra replicator rations...?"

"Thank you, but no," he murmured as we made our way over to my sofa. We'd held many debates and conversations here over the years, but it had been something like two months since we'd been together like this. I took a seat, but when he remained standing, I looked up at him curiously. "May I?"

"Vorik, we've been friends since before we came aboard Voyager. You know you never need to ask permission to sit down." He seemed surprised by my response, which, in turn, surprised me.

"I did not know if..." he stumbled over his words for a moment as he perched awkwardly on the cushion beside me. "After the incident in Engineering, I was uncertain whether you would be...comfortable with my being in close proximity to you."

I was silent for a moment as I processed what he'd said.

"You thought I'd be afraid of you?" My voice came out as barely a whisper, and when he nodded his head, my heart shattered in my chest. He looked so vulnerable, so afraid that I was going to scream at him or throw him out of my quarters.

"It is the logical conclusion. You did request a transfer to a different shift, did you not?"

Of course he'd found out about that. I don't know why I expected that to remain a secret.

"Yes, but it wasn't because I was afraid of you, Vorik." That may not have been the whole truth, but it wasn't a lie. He seemed relieved, but I didn't want him to dig too deeply, so I changed the subject with a smile. "Now, what brings you here before your shift? How can I help you?"

"My main goal was to ascertain whether I'd frightened you. My subsequent objective..." he trailed off with his brow furrowed. "Upon reflection, I do not know whether this is logical, but I wished to determine what would be required to restore our prior level of interaction. I find myself...troubled by your absence, both in Engineering and in our leisure hours."

"You missed me?" The question slipped out before I could stop it, and just like that, it was Vorik's turn to look surprised.

"Of course. Did you believe that I would be indifferent or pleased to be without you?" Nodding my head, I watched as my friend cautiously moved closer to me on the sofa and placed his hands on my shoulders. "You lend me much metaphorical strength. I value your counsel...and your friendship."

My self-imposed isolation had ended that night. I spoke with B'Elanna and got transferred back to my original shift, which is why Vorik was there to save me when I nearly fell over the railing. If it hadn't been for him, I'd likely be lying in a crumpled heap on the lower deck by now. We'd rekindled our friendship after that lapse, but I knew it would never become anything more.

Regardless, Vorik had saved my life, and I resolved that once we were out of danger, I'd show him how grateful I was.

--

One minor war later, Vorik and I exited Engineering with the rest of our shift, and without a single moment's discussion, I found myself being led by a firm hand grasping my elbow.

"Vorik? Where are we going?"

"Patience." Was it my imagination, or was his voice rougher than usual? He sent the turbolift up before anyone else could board it, and the ride was filled with an undefinable sort of silence.

His grip slipped down from my elbow to my hand, and tingles erupted across my palm. He'd never touched my bare skin before. Vulcans were averse to such contact, and I'd always done my best to respect that boundary.

But he'd been the one to initiate this, not me. As the lift hummed along, Vorik's gaze slipped upward until our eyes met. A mere blink later, his eyes were hooded and hunger flooded his demeanor. Stepping closer to me with our hands still joined, the Ensign backed me up against the wall of the turbolift releasing a whisper of my name in that beautiful, low, silky voice of his.

The tingling in my spine intensified the longer he looked at me - and oh, did he look at me! His eyes seemed to bore right into my soul, stealing my breath and my thoughts with unerring skill. He'd looked at me before, but never the way I wanted him to...never like this.

That frightened me. Oh, the look itself wasn't disquieting, but the possibility that this could lead to something more – something that might damage my heart more than his preference of B'Elanna over me had a year before? That terrified me.

"I did not," he rasped, and I blinked in confusion. "I believed that you did not harbor the same regard for me that I did for you, and it was out of a desire to avoid needlessly damaging the relationship between us that I selected Lieutenant Torres. I did not wish to lose you. To equate yourself with her is the height of illogic, because none could ever compare with you."

Before I could respond beyond a stunned look, however, we arrived at the deck we'd been hurtling toward. The door hissed open, and he began tugging me through the corridors again. We passed through the door to Vorik's quarters, and everything clicked into place. He'd always preferred privacy, only allowing into his space those who needed to be there - like the Doctor and Lieutenant Tuvok.

And then there was me.

I'd never understood why he allowed me in when almost nobody else was permitted the same luxury, but suddenly it all made sense. I was allowed to be there when nobody else was because he trusted me enough to be vulnerable with me. He told me more about himself than he did anyone else. He spent more of his free time with me than anyone else. He knew more about me than anyone else did.

And I'd all but abandoned him after the incident with Torres! Guilt coiled hot and bitter in my gut, and I bit my lower lip. How did he not hate me? How could he have simply been content with our renewed friendship? He should've chewed me out or berated me–

My racing thoughts ground to a halt as the softness of his lips met mine.

Oh.

The kiss was gentle and brief, but it was easily the most tender gesture I'd ever received. When he pulled away just far enough to watch me open my eyes, his hands caught both of mine and lifted them to his chest.

"I...Vorik, that...isn't something friends do," I breathed, feeling like an idiot as soon as the words were out of my mouth.

"You are correct. It is not," he said with a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips, "but I had hoped that my attempts to demonstrate my interest were successful enough to convey that I desire you in more ways than a simple friendship will allow."

"Your interest?" I parroted, and he moved close enough that when I spoke, my lips brushed against his. The contact felt as warm as fire, as sweet as honey, and I was a starving. Ravenous for his touch, his affection, I craved him more than I had anything else in my entire life.

"You cannot have missed it. By Vulcan standards, I have been metaphorically throwing myself at you. Lieutenant Tuvok even suggested that I was being too overt." He grasped my waist, tugging me gently against him as his lips met mine again. A fleeting, barely-there peck later, my patience had stretched to the breaking point as I chased his retreating mouth with my own. "Is there something you need, ashayam?"

Blinking up at him, it occurred to me that he was doing this deliberately.

Vorik was teasing me.

And he looked almost proud of the reaction he'd drawn from me. Beautiful bastard.

"You," I whispered before I could talk myself into being more cautious. "All I need is you."

"Then you shall have me," Vorik promised as he lifted me into his arms and carried me toward his bed.

~*~

Taglist:

@akamitrani @android-boyfriends @attention-bajoranworkers @bigblissandlove1 @darkmattervibes

@emilie786 @groovyqueer @horta-in-charge @live-logs-and-proper @rookietrek

@slutty-slutty-vulcans @starrynightgardens @toebeans-mcgee

[girlreblogger]

also to add to my previous post, when i say blk yn go through crazy situations im exaggerating but i mean (“cause me personally!!!!!!!!!!!”) allowing the character to be treated in certain manner and be put in “awkward” positions. i also want to say that the “situations” seem unfulfilling like i wanted to say in the first place.

because of the unsavory situations she is put in she legit has to have characteristics that are straight up unnecessary if the wellbeing of her character was prevalent. and i have to say that because of blk yn stories that it applies to. (and no ian talking abt how ppl be complaining abt yn being “ghetto” 😒)

drama, comfort, or for fun, is cool and dandy but it’s the same type of thing and i’m not tryna come for the plug stories like don’t nbgaf like omg i’m so tired of hearing bout them freaking stories.

to the ppl who still decide to ignore how damaging fr CERTAIN! blk yn fics y’all remind me of the ppl who support tyler perry movies simply because it’s for entertainment and “he’s telling a story” (that not everyone has)

yep. those things are true but an impact worse than good is being produced. like bffr.

and i feel conflicted by even saying that because some ppl obviously genuinely relate or find comfort in those stories but at what cost. like is comfort worth change and progression?

me rn:

some ppl just really don’t gaf and don’t care to want better. please don’t let the ppl who don’t gaf sway you. for the ppl who do, reblog nice fics or write. blow them up so other blk girls can find them. we deserve it.

there are so many blk fics where yn is not going through those things and if there is “drama” is solved or there’s a healthy resolve. (there’s so many blk writers who need to be publishing books fuck tumblr or ao3 and tryna get reblogs. with all that talent girl MAKE SOME MONEYYYY! YALL STUFF BE GOOD.)

i’m dead serious. why haven’t you thought abt it.

but yeah. it is what it is we have to put more work in to change as people in general. but i really just want my ppl to grow. ppl find comfort in fics for a reason. i really think a good balance of what everyone is looking for and needs should be found. i know ppl gonna feel like ppl telling them what to do but they prolly the ones who don’t want the change for wtv.. reason… ahem..

ppl feeling hit by what i said:

there’s obviously a problem and as a ppl! why can’t we just fix it. like at least try.

side note:

there’s so many ways to get drama. also the smut after arguing piss me off this is off topic cause it applies to a lot of ppl who make fics but like damn. y’all ain’t gon talk it out. and it be the most weird arguments and stuff and you wanna squeeze lemons after that???

idk that annoys me like everyyyy time? and i think smut after arguments can be well written but ….

anyways the blk ff community to damn big for us to be sitting here starving acting like we don’t have food in the refrigerator to make something.

get it together yall. youn want what’s in the refrigerator go get your keys and buy something.

i’m tired of this shit that’s why so many blk writers stop writing or ppl stop reading because it’s too much going on all for some damn fake characters we wanna imagine ourselves with.

and i know for some ppl it’s abt the followers and all that which i mean to each is own i mean

sigh i was tryna be proper and cordial but i really want better for us but it’s so many ppl who go too far or do too little. and some are so sheep that they go with someone else’s opinion too. you know you tired of all the toxic fics say sumn. you know you tired of ppl constantly bringing up yn being ghetto for no reason (that shit piss me off so bad i can’t. they be so close but so farr) say sumn.

me after thinking someone finna bring up how unnecessary struggle love/toxic/extra smutty blk fics are but they end up just complaining abt yn using aave:

anyways i’m ranting. i wanted to say what i felt.

muah

[vivelareine]

hello! i agree with your post about MA being blamed for her husband's actions broadly, but do you have a source for her being the one who suggested a more reasonable carriage for their attempted escape? not that i doubt you or anything but i would like to know more since i have heard many conflicting things about this detail. thank you :)

Oh I should clarify, Marie Antoinette didn't come up with the idea of smaller carriages for the flight--but there's no reason to think she disagreed with the suggestions when you read the related Fersen correspondence. As it was Louis who decided to reject the proposals (which came from Bouille, Breteuil and Fersen) which may have... may have... resulted in the family not being captured.

(I say may have because this was almost a "Titanic" situation in which everything that could have gone wrong, did go wrong, and it wasn't necessarily anyone or any particular choice's "fault." But people love to blame Marie Antoinette for Varennes, usually claiming she wanted to have a big vain carriage or she refused to part from her perfumes or she was a dumb woman who didn't realize they shouldn't all travel together etc etc.)

The initial proposals (I believe direct from Fersen & Bouille, not sure offhand about Breteuil) was for multiple common carriages--which would require the family to be split up--whereas the king wanted one large carriage that would mean the family (and Tourzel) would be together, and would not need to stop for various necessities.

Sometimes Tourzel is blamed for this, the idea being that the reason for the larger carriage was because she refused to part from Louis Charles, but I haven't found any letters which suggest it was Tourzel who was the deciding factor here. NVM I remembered it was Bouille who blamed her initially; Bouille said in his memoir the reason why the king didn't have a military man in the carriage is because Tourzel refused to not go with the family. But this was not brought up at all in the actual 1791 correspondence, it's something Bouille claimed much later.

And in any case, Louis was the king, he could have easily told Tourzel that she must be in a separate carriage... and would a 5 person carriage really be all that smaller than a 6 person one?

Edit: To add, the Tourzel variation of why the carriage was so big is fascinating because Madame de Tourzel's version of events is that Marie Antoinette said she (Tourzel) would be too ill to make the journey and must leave the Tuileries before the flight.

Tourzel basically told Marie Antoinette that she was willing to die for the family and her charges, and that if she were a man Marie Antoinette would not have said she must stay behind, and that if she left the palace everyone would know about their plans because she had publicly said that "death along could make me abandon the dauphin," and that if she thought for a moment she was hampering the flight, she would of course stay behind/not go with them, but that she would otherwise wish to go and serve her country.

But this gets turned into "Tourzel wept to the king about it and he gave into a woman's tears."

Anyway--

Bouille and Fersen also proposed that the king have able military men with them for safety and to take charge; this was also rejected. Louis initially wanted M. de Bombelles with him but rejected it due to political implications. It was not until very late that this was rejected, a lot of the flight to Montmedy plans had to be rearranged and put off for many reasons. One being that one of the dauphin's attendants was a "strong democrat" who would have jeopardized the plan if she was there,and they were waiting for be away from the palace.

Although the book itself is not one I recommend for reasons anyone who reads my blog will already know, Farr's "I Love You Madly" has a good amount of the Fersen/Bouille/etc letters leading up to the flight which provide a decent look at Louis' choices in regards to rejecting the more, IMO, sensible proposals that were offered to him.

So to clarify my lil rant, it's not so much that Marie Antoinette came up with the smaller and multiple carriages, than it is that she was not the one who rejected it and she had no objections to it that we know about--it was Louis who ultimately rejected the idea.

[star-trek-fandom-confessions]

#948

I'm in a lot of fandoms that have lifespan angst ships but I really like the subversion trope where the one expected to outlive the other doesn't which is one reason why I like the idea of Kirk surviving Generations. Spock dies canonly at the age of 162ish in ST:Beyond. Kirk enters and leaves the Nexus at age 60 so if he survived and rejoined Spock then when Romulus' Star collapses and they'd get thrown into the Kelvin timeline they would be 157ish and 76ish. Now obviously you can't base a character's lifespan off the actors but since Spock's has to match with Nimoy's then I think it's fair to match Kirk's with Shatner who is still alive at 93 which means in the five years between the end of ST:2009 and ST:Beyond Kirk would still be alive while Spock dies in ST:Beyond. In fact, he would still be alive for another decade or so. Which makes Spirk in this context the best of both (angsty) worlds because you get the proper lifespan angst with Kirk "dying" first and being dead for nearly 80 years and then the subversive angst of Kirk having to deal with outliving Spock which was never something he felt the need to prepare himself for unlike Spock who would have prepared for it well in advance not only in regards to Kirk but also his mother and friends. Or you could argue Spock survives because Pon Farr was what killed him but idk fuck or die seems kind of weird to tack onto Nimoy's memorial scenes so I prefer to think it was just old age.

[theshadowrealmitself]

One of my guilty pleasure stories that I love to read is when a put together character undergoes something that makes them “feral” but at the same time it never quite scratches that itch and I think I know why (hopefully this is coherent)

So, like, for Vulcan fics when it has the Vulcan go through it (usually Spock cause I read a lot of Spirk fics), that character also usually loses the ability to speak?

And I love the stories of Vulcans becoming “feral” but I really want it to be like,,, feral, like in the actual “becomes wild after escaping domestication,” as in they’re reverted back to pre-Surak ways

And I think the pre-Surak vibes are lost when the Vulcan can’t even speak, I want them to be highly emotional but also still highly intelligent

Ideal “feral” story for me with Vulcans would be sort of like the very beginning of how pon farr stories usually go where the Vulcan is fighting to stay in control so maybe no one (at least not the Humans) even knows something is wrong at first

(Till they start saying batshit stuff like “I’ve decided this area is too open and makes it difficult to keep you safe so I’m going to carry you off to a different area” “Carry me off?” *picks them up* “Yes.”)