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lovelessdagger · 1 year

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The Fall of the Jedi | Chapter Eight: Cin Vhetin

Pairing: Hunter x OFC

Rating: Mature

Summary: Hunter can’t get it out of his head, the undeniable facts of their situation. The Republic, the one thing every clone stood for, now washed away in favor of this new Empire. The Regs, having never been particularly personable, have somehow become more cold than before. Governor Tarkin, an avid objector to clones, dared to send his squad to kill innocent civilians. The Jedi… are gone.

Slow Burn, Canon Divergence

WARNINGS: Explicit Language. TBB S1E1. Canon Typical Violence. Allusion to Torture.

Words: 7K

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Hunter can’t get it out of his head, the undeniable facts of their situation. The Republic, the one thing every clone stood for, now washed away in favor of this new Empire. The Regs, having never been particularly personable, have somehow become more cold than before. Governor Tarkin, an avid objector to clones, dared to send his squad to kill innocent civilians. The Jedi… are gone.

Just like that.

In four words and less than thirty minutes, the Jedi disappear. The oldest and strongest institution ever known, wiped, branded traitors, summarily executed. Every single one of them.

Well, Hunter thinks. Not all.

Not yet. The kid, Commander Dume, he made it out. Though Kaller is no haven. If the clones didn’t kill him, the elements might. Either way, he’s just a kid. What does he know about survival? What shot does he have when he’s alone?

If he can’t make it, what does that say about them?

Hunter’s leg bounces inside the Marauder, gloved hands wiping on thighs. “How much longer til Kamino?” he asks, standing.

“Our projected time of arrival is eighteen minutes,” Tech says. He looks over his shoulder. “Your anxiety will not cause the ship to go any faster. Given Omega’s status as a medical assistant, it is unlikely she is under any real threat. Although, the odds are not zero.”

Hunter scoffs. “Thanks.”

She’s the final piece of it, the ruckus of his mind. She’s the biggest really. Undeniably. It was bad enough before, her weird and incessant following of the group. Sitting with them in the Mess Hall, caring over Echo in the infirmary, searching Hunter out personally. She actively warned them of what Tarkin had planned, what trouble this… Empire would cause. Leave Kamino, don’t come back.

Let me come with you.

He should’ve listened the first time. They could be long gone from Kamino already, not headed towards it. A log transmissions onto the Maraduer from the now Imperial database shared with Kamino. The only one clones have access to. A running list of every known Jedi of the Republic and their status of termination. Working with Jedi was a rare occurrence, the amount closer to zero than anything substantial. Scrolling through, Hunter ticked off what he could recognize.

Shaak Ti.

Depa Billaba.

Caleb Dume.

Anakin Skywalker.

He closes the log each time Crosshair walks by, before he can comment on his search for a fifth name. Before he can tell him there’s no point. Laugh at him. Tell him what he already knows.

Echo behaves the same, though he takes the list in a more personal manner. It’s easy to tell when something strikes particularly hard. He gets more reserved, closing the log and leaving for some odd minutes before coming back.

For a moment, Hunter considers asking.

Ultimately, he decides against.

“Assuming she is there,” Tech asks. “How do you propose we find Omega?”

“Tipoca City’s a big place,” Hunter responds. “But there’s only so many locations she can be. We split up. You and Wrecker take the lower levels and comm areas. Echo, you and I will check barracks. Crosshair—“

“Pass.” He sits in the corner, pretending to sleep but tapping fingers give away the facade. “I’m not interested in putting this squad at risk for some kid.”

“She’s one of us whether you like it or not. We’re not leaving until she’s on this ship. Echo, you take Cross for the barracks. I’ll get into the labs. If any of us find her, we comm and head directly back.”

“What are we doing after?” Wrecker asks.

“I haven’t gotten that far,” Hunter admits. Crosshair scoffs. “Right now, all we need to worry about is making it back and off world in one piece. It’s a big galaxy, plenty of places to camp out. We wait for things to calm down before moving on.”

“Ten minutes until hyperspace exit,” Tech announces. “Reports indicate class three storms, the landing may be bumpy.”

Echo approaches, nudging his back. “Hunter,” he mutters. He nods towards the end of the ship, leading the way. “Something’s wrong.”

“Really?” He snorts. “You don’t say.”

“I mean with Crosshair,” Echo whispers. “He isn’t acting like himself.”

Hunter looks over. “Yeah… I noticed.”

“What Tech said earlier, about the programming.”

“Crosshair’s fine. A lot has happened, he’s easy to stress out. Doesn’t like change. That’s all.”

“I don’t like it.”

“He’ll be fine. Better when we finally leave this place.”

“You all really don’t like Kamino.”

“Hard to like somewhere you don’t belong.”

“Five minutes,” Tech announces.

“Grab a seat,” Hunter says. “We’ll be in and out. Then everything will be back to normal.”

Maz Kanata likes to keep her ship cold, that much Odella is certain of. It may be all she is certain of. She hasn’t moved from her three square foot box since boarding, confining herself to the floor, knees to chest. Maz has been generous, ignoring her for the most part. Until now that is.

“You didn’t strike me as a caf girl, so I made tea,” she says, holding out a mug. “Drink, it will boost your energy.”

Odella mouths, Thank you, taking it.

“We’ll be landing soon.”

“Where are you taking me?”

“You’ll see.”

“Are you normally this vague?”

She admits, “No.”

“Then why am I so lucky?”

“You hold yourself back,” Maz says. “Were I to tell you, you’d refuse. Regardless of it being for your benefit.”

It takes everything in Odella to not roll her eyes. Even then she fails. “If you won’t tell me, can you at least explain what you were doing on Naboo?”

“The Force sent me.”

Odella scoffs. “I’m not a child. You can say you were stealing.”

“You don’t believe me?”

“That the Force sent you to Naboo on its biggest day of surveillance and occupation since the battle with the Trade Federation? You’re right, that’s definitely believable. My mistake.”

“You have quite the mouth on you,” Maz chuckles. “I would have never guessed. You come off so shy.”

“I don’t know you. You refuse to tell me where we’re going. And, I don’t know you,” Odella says. “Excuse me for not being chipper. There’s no reason the Force would send you to Naboo.”

“It sent you.”

“Master Yoda sent me. There’s a difference.”

“Did the Force not compel him?”

“No,” Odella says bluntly. “Unless you call Obi-Wan Kenobi the Force. Which I certainly wouldn’t.”

Maz hums. She nods, slow. “If you must know. I feel treasures call to me through the Force. Now, I happened to be called to Naboo.”

“For treasures?”

Maz nods.

“What did you collect?”

“You.”

“Stars,” Odella mutters. “So what, you’re going to hold me for ransom? Get payment that way?”

“Of course not. Girl like you would make a far greater profit working in my establishment.”

“Is that where we’re going?”

“No. Unless…” Maz leans in, squinting. “What is your talent? Artistically.”

“I don’t—“

“You are a Thoren. Art runs in your blood the same as those midichlorians. Do not lie.”

Odella sighs. “I’ve been told I can sing.”

Maz enters some deep internal debate Odella has no interest in deciphering, humming. “No,” she settles. “Best not.”

As if Yoda weren’t confusing enough.

“So…” Odella drags. “The Force calls you to Naboo. You find me. That hardly feels worthwhile.”

“You my dear, are the famed Thoren daughter. You must recognize your value is beyond words.”

“My value?” Odella repeats, dumbfounded. “How can I have any value in that family? All my siblings despise my existence, my mother’s gone mad with legacy, and my father hates what he has created. I may be a Thoren but I claim no fame from it. Cain is right. It’s all cursed.”

“I don’t believe that. I’ve known the Thorens a long time now. Your late grandmother Novalise was a great friend, as was her mother Evangeline, and her mother Amara. The only curse Paloma brought to that house were the trails of her abuse. You should not blame her for it.”

“Then I blame myself,” Odella concedes. “I should have never been born. They should have been satisfied with the children they had, not risk my mothers life. For what? A Jedi?” Odella waves her hands out. Her words grow rage the longer she continues. “Look how that’s gone. I am on a ship with a pirate I do not know and the Jedi are dead. The only thing I have ever known is dead. Yet somehow I am left to survive when I never asked for any of it to begin with. I only did this because everyone told me to. It’s what they asked of me. I never wanted to be a Jedi.” She catches herself too late. Hunched over, the steam hits her face. She sits frozen without breath.

Maz holds her shoulder, Odella pushes it off. “Oh… my child,” she whispers.

Shaking her head, Odella sets down the mug. “I should’ve left when my Master died,” she says. “I could’ve avoided the war all together. Actually done something with myself, helped people. Really helped people. People who care about each other. Who aren’t afraid of compassion and emotion and community. I should’ve gone to something far away from the Jedi.”

“The galaxy is quite large, grander than any thing could wish to see in one lifetime,” Maz tells her. “You are young. There is still time for you to become whoever you are meant to be. You are unrestricted. In the face of this tragedy, you are free.”

Maz announces their arrival fifteen odd minutes later. The ship slowly enters atmosphere and lands with a final thud on the ground. Odella stands only when she is told. Maz takes her by the bend in her arm, leading her out.

The air is cool, fresh, free from the growing pollution of Coruscant. Dried grass breaks under footstep, harvested crop cut on weakened soil.

“Perhaps I stay with you,” Odella says. Her free arm blocks her eyes from the sun, squinting away. “I wouldn’t mind being a performer.”

She would.

They both know this.

“The nearest town is a ten kilometer walk east,” Maz says, pointing to the sun. “I recommend you stray from the Protectors until you gain your bearings. The last thing you need is to be taken for interrogation.”

“Interrogation?”

Maz waves her hand. “The likelihood is low. Though not zero…” she trails. “Never mind it. You will be fine.”

“You said you’d take me somewhere safe,” Odella argues.

“Wrong. I said I would take you where you need to go. I promised your friend safety, but you are not her.”

Odella swears under her breath. Damn pirates. She lifts the hood of her cloak. “I suppose I’ll be off now. Thanks for the ride.”

“Not so fast.” Maz raises her hand, making a beckoning motion.

“Right,” Odella sighs. Payment. She reaches for the bag of credits dangling on her hip. “I’m not sure how much I have but… how’s two hundred?”

“No.” Maz reaches under her cloak, tapping the metal sabers hanging from her other side. “These.”

Odella frowns. “What? No, no I can’t—“

“They will do you no good here. Besides, they are a Jedi’s weapon, are they not?”

“Yes but—“

“You will find your way through new means. Accept change. Embrace it.”

Odella kneels, closing her eyes. “They mean an awful lot to me.” She unhooks them from her belt, thumb brushing over ignition.

“You have your crystals, do you not?”

“I do.”

Maz takes the hilts, rolling them in her palms. “Then they’re never truly gone, are they?” They connect to her trousers, free hand cupping Odella’s cheek. “When it is safe, should that time ever come, they will find their way to you again.”

“You’ll keep them well in the mean time?”

“I give you my word.”

Odella nods, saying nothing more.

“Go now,” Maz ushers. “This is your new beginning.”

ALDAMI’S DINER

OPEN

Odella wipes her forehead, open palms stretching her lower back. It couldn’t have killed Maz to drop her anywhere closer? She shakes out her muscle, craning her neck from side to side. She looks around the outside, buildings sparse, streets moderately empty. It is a welcomed change of scenery however, dying crops become an eyesore past the first hour. Nauseating by the second.

Unfortunately, she hadn’t been able to gain a clue of where she’d been put. The light chill of wind stayed consistent, pointing to a change into winter season or late fall. Outer Rim most likely considering the lack of city life, speeders. Agricultural settlement, obviously.

The diner is the first thing to greet her, a faded and chipped blue painted wooden exterior. Exhaust from the chimney fills the street and her senses, stomach growling. She weighs the options: keep hiking until she lucks out and collapses, or… the choice isn’t hard.

Stepping into the establishment, a bell rings above her head. It smells divine. Odella almost drools.

“Hi doll, welcome in,” an older woman calls. Mid-forties, jet black hair pinned on her head, pieces framing her round face. “Go head and take a seat where ever ya can, we’ll get someone to you in a bit.”

Either she came in right before or after the morning rush, a dwindling occupancy keeping only half the diner busy. Odella makes her way to a corner booth, faced away from the crowd. An effort of vain, no one pays her any mind. Her gloves slip off onto her lap, fingertips dancing on the table’s counter.

Nothing notable comes through her visions. Various families, children, dishes.

Thank the Maker.

“Name’s Sela. Can I get you started with some caf?” The woman from before, stood in front notepad in hand.

Odella keeps her gaze locked, shaking her cloaked head. Her throat clears. “Do you have tea?”

“Iced tea.”

“I’ll take it,” she says. “Sweetened. Please.”

The woman snorts. “Like there’s any other way.” The booklet snaps close. “I’ll get that out to ya. Take your time with the menu, it ain’t changing anytime soon.”

“Thanks.”

Left alone, Odella rubs over her face. She flips over the menu, foot bouncing. Tiingilar, uj’alayi, bone broth… something is recognizable at least. ALDAMI’S DINER stays printed at the top, faded, stained. No address, no contact information.

She’s in the middle of no where.

Perfect.

Sela returns with her glass, ice cubes floating atop. “Pick something out yet?”

“Uh,” Odella stutters. “What do you recommend?”

“Al’s good for pretty much all of it,” she says. “What are you in the mood for?”

“Protein,” she decides. “High carbs. I could eat a bantha.”

“Can’t say we got those layin about,” Sela laughs. She takes the menu, tucking it under her arm. “But I’ll see what he can do.”

“Thank you,” Odella breathes. She looks up, lowering the hood. “Honestly, anything is fine. I shouldn’t be staying long.”

“You ain’t from these parts, are you?”

Bashful, Odella asks, “Am I that obvious?”

“Just about. Accent gave it away. Mid Rim?”

“Naboo.”

“Naboo,” Sela repeats, tongue clicked to the roof. “What the hell are you doing out here?”

“Good question. Wish I had an answer. Just… had to get away from home. I guess.”

“Well, you couldn’t have picked a farther place to do it.” She taps at Odella’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, we ain’t a stranger to strays.”

“Do refugees frequent here?”

She laughs. “Maybe less noble than that. Just people lookin to get away. They never stay long.”

“Why’s that?”

The front bell rings again, a group of three staggering inside. Each man armored in worn blue and gray. Visors of helmets shaped in a black ’T’.

“Al!” The one in front calls, fist banging the counter. “We’ll take the usual to go!”

“Well,” Sela sighs. “That’s part of it.”

“That… Those are Mandalorians,” Odella stumbles.

“Sure is. You ain’t ever seen one?”

“Only in books.”

Sela emits an audible, heh, shaking her head. “If you’re expecting knights in shining armor, look else where. Stop bangin’ on my counter!” She shouts to them. “Damn animals.”

The one in the back… barks.

Sela spares her a look saying, See what I mean?

“Point taken,” Odella responds.

“Sela!” The front calls, making his way over. “You’re looking as beautiful as ever. Have you lost weight?”

“Fenn Rau,” Sela introduces. “He’s tryna be like his daddy and failing miserably.”

“All with practice my dear,” the Mandalorian corrects. Removing his helmet, a blond head appears. “My father can’t say he’s helped train the Republic army, now can he?”

“So much for that,” Sela laughs. “I hear they’re calling it an Empire now.”

“Is there a difference?”

“There is when them clones you train kill the wizards.”

“Jedi?”

“That’s what I heard.”

Fenn snorts. “Then I have trained them as Mandalorian, haven’t I?”

“Bit macabre if you ask me.” Sela taps at Odella’s shoulder. “You’re from the inside,” she says. “You hear anything bout it?”

“Huh? Oh, no,” Odella says. “I don’t do politics.”

“Smart move.”

A smile drags onto Fenn’s features, brow raised. “Hello, hello,” he says. He takes Odella’s hand, kissing its back. “My name is Fenn Rau, Journeyman Protector. And, you are?”

“Passing by,” Sela interrupts, swatting his arm. “Leave the poor girl alone.”

“I’m being friendly. It’s part of the role.”

Odella removes herself, nose scrunching. “I’m flattered,” she deadpans. “Truly.”

“If you need somewhere to stay, my home is always available to you.”

And she thought Coruscant boys were bad.

“Rau!” A gruff voice shouts from the back. “Order up!”

Fenn straightens, tipping his head. “I’ll be seeing you around,” he says. “Welcome to Concord Dawn.”

Treason. Conspiring with Saw Gerrera.

That’s what Tarkin called it, taking the word of a probe droids data. Shock troopers surrounding the Batch the second they landed on Kamino left them without fight. Not one that would leave all five alive anyways.

Hunter blames himself, he should’ve accounted for this possibility.

Now here they are, stripped to their blacks, pushed into a makeshift prison.

“I assume you know the punishment for treason,” Tarkin said. The answer was clear as day, something they all knew would be waiting for them past these ray shields.

Death if they’re lucky.

Reprogramming if not.

While Clone Force 99 tries not to make it a habit of coming back or staying on Kamino for too long, one way or another they manage to catch up with chatter. Lucky or not, Hunter’s status as Sergeant grants him acceptance with the Regs. Not much, but greater than someone like Wrecker anyways.

Word circled around about some new experimental operation. A machine the Kaminoans begun sticking clones into when they strayed too far. Some say it’s what was done to the reg from the 501st Legion, rumored to go mad, threatening the Chancellor.

Emperor.

Other stories were more specific, coming from those claiming to have walked into the wrong room, overheard the wrong conversations.

It didn’t have a name, not that they knew, but the premise was clear. A type of factory reset. Mind completely erased, personality cleared, memories, names— in extreme cases, basic human function— gone. Flayed.

This was the obvious route for the squad to take. Their… uniqueness, value, was never lost to the Kaminoans. Even if it was to the rest. Successful mutations, viable to see adulthood. As cadets they were frequently separated from the others, given more exams, more physicals. Trained harder, stricter, made the other in every way possible.

No, Tarkin won’t kill them. He’d be stupid to.

Hunter sighs. That can be worried about later. For now… his vision drops to Omega, sat on the ground.

“Me?” she asks. “You came back for me?”

“The option’s yours,” Hunter tells her. “Though, I’d prefer if you’d come with us. I’d hate to get us captured for nothing.” He sighs, treading on obnoxious. “But if you’d rather stay on Kamino…”

She gasps, leaning up. “No! I told you before, I want to go with you.”

Hunter nods. “Okay,” he whispers. “Okay.”

From the back, Crosshair groans. “Cute,” he mutters. “Touching, really.”

Wrecker clears his throat. “Hunter,” he says. “How are we breaking out of here?”

He responds, “I’m working on it.”

“You know what you should work on?” Crosshair asks. “Explaining when you went soft.”

“Stow it Crosshair,” Echo snaps. He shakes out his right scomped arm. Phantom pains.

“Don’t pretend like you haven’t all noticed. He’s been failing ever since Anaxes, and I’ve been the only one to say something about it.” He steps up, Hunter blocks his way to Omega. “Why don’t you own up to the truth of why you’re really doing this, Hunter?”

He pauses. “What truth?”

“That she’s dead,” he says. “We all know it. She was a Jedi who never knew you existed and you were still weak enough to get attached.”

“Crosshair. You don’t want to start this,” Hunter warns.

“Wake up Hunter. There is nothing you can do to bring her back. Not letting the Padawan escape. Not helping Guerra—“ he points to Omega, “—not saving this kid. She was a Jedi. She betrayed the Emperor. They all did.” He grips the side of his head. “You don’t even know her name. She deserved to die.”

Echo acts before Hunter gets the chance, shoving Crosshair into the wall. “Say that again.”

Crosshair snorts, looking down the three inches between them. “Oh look, the mech has something to say.”

“Guys,” Wrecker attempts. “C’mon. Not in front of the kid.”

They ignore.

“Why haven’t you told him?” Crosshair asks.

“Tell him what?” Echo responds.

“That you knew her.” His gaze flickers past, back onto Hunter. “There was only one girl on Anaxes. Worked in the med bay with the regs. Fixed up Echo.”

“What’s your point?” Hunter asks.

“You’ve got competition. We were on that base for four days and all I ever saw was her with the 501st. I bet she was with them when the Order went off. I bet, they all shot her dead. Maybe if Echo stayed he would’ve done it himself.”

“Shut it,” Echo hisses.

“I’m telling the truth. You know it. Deep down, you’re still a Reg.” Crosshair shoves at him.

“A Reg with ARC training,” Echo reminds. “Don’t push it.”

“You should be the most loyal to the Empire out of all of us. Why aren’t you? Why defend a worthless Jedi? Hunter becoming a liability I’d expect, but you?”

“That’s enough,” Hunter snaps. “Both of you. We’re a team. Act like it. You’re right,” he says to Crosshair. “She is dead. But that doesn’t matter anymore. We can discuss my choices all you want later. For now, let’s focus on getting out of here.”

“Now I know you say it’s fine, but I took a bit off your tab for having to put up with Fenn,” Sela says, placing the bill in front of Odella. “Puts you at thirty even.”

“How’s fifty?” Odella asks, reaching into her pouch. “You can keep the rest as a tip.”

“Oh don’t do that.”

“I insist,” she says, placing the credits. “You wouldn’t happen to know of any places I can camp out for the next day or so, would you?”

“Can’t say I do. Like I said, strays, they squat wherever they like.”

“No inns?”

“Not since the last one up the road closed. Al’s been looking to buy it but, no chance cubes.”

“You’re not looking for a roommate?”

Sela laughs. “You wanna nanny five kids under ten?”

“Pass. I have enough trouble tolerating one.”

“Then I’m outta options. Sorry doll.”

Odella sighs, raising her hood as she stands. “How far’s the next town?”

“Bout… fifteen klicks north.”

“Great,” she mutters. “I better get going then. Thank you again for the food.” She waves the canteen strapped over her torso. “And the water.”

“You’re leaving just like that?”

“Course. Gotta make land while the sun’s up. Give my compliments to Al. I haven’t had food like that in years.”

Sela nods. “I will. Best of luck to you.”

Odella makes it approximately fifteen footsteps to the door before collision, running directly into a stout man, double her size. Clean plates fly into the air, the male falls onto his rear, the diner goes silent.

She catches them all. “I am so sorry,” she gasps, struggling to stack. She moves them to one arm, offering out the free one. “I’m so clumsy.”

The man ignores her, swearing under his breath. He stands on bent knee, heaving up.

“Are you hurt?” Odella asks.

“‘m fine,” he mutters. He spares her a look, half disgusted half shocked. “You’re too small to have that much force on ya.”

She blinks. “What?”

“Bet I’ve got over a hundred pounds on you and you knock me down like that?”

“I swear it was an accident.”

“I believe you.”

She holds out the plates. “Sorry. Again.”

It’s his turn to blink. “You caught them?”

“Opposed to what?” She asks. “Letting them fall?”

“Well… yeah.”

“Sounds like more trouble on you.”

He confirms, taking them. “It would be.”

“Exactly.”

“Huh.” He looks around the diner, to her, then out again. “Sela!” He calls. “This one yours?”

She answers from the back. “Sure is Al.”

“Of course you’re Al,” Odella sighs. “Maker, I really am a piece of work aren’t I? I wish I could say I’m not usually like this but I’d be lying.”

“Accent’s weird. Where you from?”

Odella answers shy. “Naboo.”

“These are Naboo decor plates,” he says, holding one up. White, hand-painted in blue. “They’re expensive.”

“Most Naboo things are. Never-mind import tax.”

Al huffs again, walking away. “How are you with people?”

Odella’s quick on her feet. “I try to be friendly.”

“Can you cook?”

“Basics, but no. Nothing like you.”

He grabs a menu from the counter, passing it. “How’s your memory?”

“Above average.”

“What’s in the special?”

“Roasted porg, pasta, fresh vegetables and herbs. Sautéed with a side salad.”

“Breakfast?”

“Bluemilk pancakes and fresh fruit.”

He takes the menu back. “Prices for the first three items on the dinner side.”

“Twenty, seventeen, and fourteen. Without sides.”

“You got a place to stay?”

“No sir.”

“You need one?”

“Desperately.”

Al nods, shoving his hands into the pockets of his apron. “I know a guy,” he says. “Little over three klicks south. Kyr Drios, he’s an mean old lonely fucker, don’t take kindly to strangers. Could shoot you dead just for stepping on his land.”

“Oh.”

He throws the rag from over his shoulder, wiping the bar. “But like I said, he’s an old fucker.” Odella lifts the napkin dispenser, he wipes under it. “Meaning, he won’t.”

“Oh.”

“He’s been bitching to me about needing help on the day to day. Now he doesn’t say he needs help, but the implications are there.”

“Right.”

“He’s got a big white place, though it’s dirty, run down. Porch out front, can usually find him smoking. Now, I try to pop by when I can, give em food. You can do that. Tell em I sent you, offer your labor. He likes you, he lets you stay. You stay, you get a job here.”

“You mean it?”

“My last girl walked out yesterday. Sel likes you, I don’t hate you, I’m sure you’ll get along with the others. Now it won’t be easy convincing him, and he’ll say no but be persistent. Not too much you get shot, but enough to wear em down. Think you can do that?”

“Annoying old men is my specialty.”

“Glad to hear it. You can start tomorrow. We open just after sunrise. Oh, and the nice girl act is cute and all. But Rau’s tame around these parts. Toughen up a bit.”

“Less nice, more tough. Easy.”

“Easier said,” Al corrects. “You don’t strike me as a fighter.”

“Well,” Odella sighs. “I guess you’re in for a surprise or two, aren’t you?”

He chuckles. “I guess I am.”

They took Crosshair.

Worse than that, they took Crosshair and Hunter did nothing to stop it. They hit him in the gut and he fell and he did nothing.

The Batch file into Tipoca City’s hangar, one by one, ducked to their tossed items. The storm rages on outside, Tech predicts levels to rise to a four within the hour. Thunder clashes while lightning strikes. The floor is slick with spilt in rain, their boots slide and squeak along the cement.

“No one waste time,” Hunter says. “Suit up. Let’s make this quick.” Turns out emergency dressing drills do have their benefits. “Tech, get in and power up the ship. The rest of us will track down Crosshair. The second we come back we’re out of here.”

Bay doors chime with finishing touches, Hunter’s vibroblade just sliding into its holster.

“I don’t think we’ll have to go far,” Omega says.

Doors open to a squad of shock troopers, six total in ready position. They spread around the entrance, leaving way for one final man. Crosshair. He walks tall, proud even. Rifle hoisted into the air, a matching helmet to his new all black suit at his side.

Wrecker asks the obvious. “Is that Crosshair?”

No one answers. They already know.

Yes. It is.

Hunter stands, walking forward. “Stand down, Sergeant,” Crosshair says. “Make it easy on yourself.”

“Have you lost your mind?” Hunter asks. He waves out. “What is this?”

“We should’ve killed that Jedi. You disobeyed orders. You betrayed the Emperor.”

“I did what I thought was right.”

“You never could see the bigger picture. You’ve always been like this. Always lost inside yourself. Your fantasies. Look where that’s gotten you. You want to do what’s right? Surrender, Hunter.”

He doesn’t miss a beat. “Is that an order?”

Crosshair laughs. “I guess it is.”

“Well,” Hunter says. “I guess I’m disobeying that one too.”

Locked in a stalemate. Brother against brother. No one wins. Everyone loses.

Time stands still.

Quick draws were easier as children. Less deadly. Hunter wants to behave the same as when they were cadets. Kids. Weapon lowered, fake with paintballs. Shields disappeared.

Crosshair doesn’t play the same anymore.

In hindsight, neither does he.

Crosshair is the first to shoot, Hunter senses the build of energy within the rifle before the trigger is pressed. He ducks and the rest of the Corrie guards fire. They throw smoke grenades, aiming through the fog.

“Tech,” Hunter says through their comm. “We gotta move, now!”

“I’m working on it.”

“Work harder. Wrecker, we need the smoke cleared.”

“Got it, boss.”

“Omega, keep your head down. Don’t look.”

Crosshair doesn’t hesitate. Wrecker is shot, his helmet tumbles, gaining a new scratch gained against the pavement. Omega dives after him, pulled back by Hunter. Crosshair’s shot barely misses.

“He’s using Wrecker as bait,” Hunter tells her. “Don’t.”

“He needs help!” She cries. “You can’t leave him!”

“And we won’t—Tech! We’re out of time!”

“Almost got it!” The Maraduer powers on, engines blasting blue flame.

Alarms sound overhead, Crosshair shouts and the bay door cranks to shut.

Until… they don’t.

“I suggest you move now!”

Hunter grabs Omega’s shoulders. “When I say go, you head for that ramp and you don’t stop? Got it?”

“But—“

“Listen to me. Nothing’s gonna hurt you, I promise. Echo and I will grab Wrecker. Everything will be okay.”

She nods. “Okay.”

“There’s only one way out, Hunter!” Crosshair calls. “Your move.”

Hunter shouts, “Go!” Blaster fire erupts within the hangar once more, plasma bolts of red and blue scattered in the air. Echo handles Wrecker, Hunter standing guard.

“C’mon big guy,” Echo mutters. “Gotta go.”

His response is a groaned blinking consciousness. “Wha…”

“Hunter! A little help here!”

“Shit.” Hunter takes Wrecker from under his left arm, Echo the right. “On three, pull him to stand.”

“Crosshair’s got a lock on us!”

“Then we hurry. One… two…”

Three.

A blue plasma beam shoots over their heads. Crosshair’s gun falls.

Helmeted heads turn upward, gravitating to the source.

Omega.

She continues the assault, and whether purposeful or not she misses Crosshair each time, chasing him into the corridor.

Hunter and Echo drag Wrecker onto the ship. “Move Tech! Seal the doors!” He pulls Omega’s arm, removing her from view. “Are you okay?” He asks, kneeling. “Are you hurt?”

“Yes—No,” she says, shaken. “I’m okay.”

“So’s he. In case you were wondering,” Echo says. He struggles to lift Wrecker onto the nearest seat, moving his head up. “Cross hit the armor seam, took the brunt of the impact.”

“Still check him out, make sure nothing’s sprained,” Hunter instructs. “Tech!”

“Just a moment!”

“Get started,” he tells Echo. “While he’s still too out of it to complain.”

“Fine by me.”

“I am not out of it,” Wrecker objects. “I’m just—ouch!” Grabbing his shoulder, he glares at Echo. “Watch where you stick that thing.”

“Just hold still, you’ll be fine.”

“I don’t like it.”

“I don’t care.”

“Well I do—ow!”

Tech enters next, swerving by a laughing Omega. “Right then,” he says, tapping away at a handheld. “Don’t move.”

“Don’t examine me,” Wrecker grumbles. “I’m not a computer.”

“No,” Tech agrees. “Echo is far more agreeable than you.”

Things feel almost normal.

Almost.

Within the commotion, Omega leaves into the cockpit. She stays small, hands playing with themselves close to her chest. Lighting is minimal, mixes of red, whites, and blues. She stops at the window, Hunter follows.

“Your first time in space?” He asks.

“First time anywhere,” Omega says. Her eyes are blown like saucers, dancing connecting lines between each star. “I’ve only seen pictures.”

Hunter clears his throat. “Impressive shot back there… Where’d you learn to do that?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never fired a blaster before,” she shrugs. “They’re not as heavy as they look. I guess I got lucky.”

“She’s not the only one,” Tech says. The rest of the Batch enters, filing behind while Tech takes control. Wrecker mutters about his strength, denying any possibility of failing to a blaster. Echo pats his back.

“Sure thing Wrecker.”

“I’m serious!”

“Course you are.”

A space of silence falls, a natural prompting for the lack of noticeable sarcastic commentary.

No one fills it.

“So,” Tech says. “What’s the plan, Hunter?”

“It was to go off on our own,” he says. “Lay low. But with Crosshair gunning for us, I’m not so sure.”

“What about your friends?” Omega asks. “Could any of them help?”

Tech snorts. “That would be a short list.”

But not nonexistent.

“I can think of one,” Hunter says. “Plot a course for J-19.”

Echo repeats. “J-19?”

“We know a guy.”

Wrecker laughs, fist pumped in the air. “Yeah!”

“Strap in,” Hunter tells Omega, guiding her in the co-pilots seat. “You’re not gonna wanna miss this view.”

Jumping into hyperspace, Omega holds a million stars in her eyes. It’s here and now that Hunter decides he will do anything he can to make sure they never fade.

Odella arrives at the Drios homestead by the late afternoon, the hour long pebbled trail building blisters on her feet. Set in the middle of nowhere, crops rotted over, soil closer to dust. From her position, gridlocked on the road, a home on either side. The right being the stranger to the situation. By the looks of it, a completely abandoned home. Weeds and vines towering and gripping to exterior walls. Windows boarded, paint weathered and chipped. The other, exactly what Al explained. Run down, white, dirty. One old man sat in a rocker.

Bingo.

Her approach is overly cautious, lowering her hood, not speaking until at the base of the steps. “Hello,” she says. “Are you Kyr Drios?”

The man wears patched overalls, worn at the knees, a rolled cigarette between his fingers. He rests with closed eyes, straw hat shading his face. “I ain’t buying it,” he says.

Odella blinks. “Sorry?”

“I said I ain’t buying it,” he repeats, louder. “Take your catalogue elsewhere.”

“Catalogue?” She whispers. She’d seen a few of the door to door types on Coruscant, those from the lower levels, Underworld. Usually selling makeup or cheap knickknacks just to make a dime. What relevance that had now is lost on her. “I’m not here to sell anything,” she says. “I was wondering if you could spare a moment of your time to—“

“No.”

“What?”

“What are you deaf?”

“No?”

He scoffs. “Don’t sound too sure.”

“Right,” Odella says. “I’m new in the area and I happened to run into a friend of yours—“

“I ain’t got friends.”

No kidding.

“Point is, we got to talking and he said—“

“Who?”

“Oh, Al? From the diner, just down—“

“I know it.”

Her lips press into a tight line, nodding. “Well, Al gave me this.” Her hand juts out, bag of take out swinging. “He said it’s your favorite, and I’m not supposed to say but I think there’s pie in there too.”

“Huh.”

“Smells like jogan.”

Only now does he care to actually look at Odella. She smiles. He rolls his eyes. “Set it by the door, then get out.”

“I’m not done.”

Kyr groans. “Course not.”

“Like I said, I’m new in town and… I don’t know if you’ve heard of this new Empire thing going on but—“

“No.”

She claps. “If I could get one sentence out—“

“My answer is no. I ain’t giving you money, and you sure as shit ain’t squattin’ here.”

“I’m not asking to squat!” Odella cries. “Squatters don’t ask, they just squat. If I wanted to squat here I’d just do it. Now, if you could shut up and listen to me for more than five seconds of your life you’d know I don’t want your money and I don’t want to squat here! Al said you need help. I’m help. Whatever you need, I’m here. All I need is a place to sleep. That’s not squatting, that’s an exchange of service.”

Kyr doesn’t miss a beat. “Girl, get off my property before you meet my gun.”

“Fine!” Odella laughs, raising her hands. “I don’t want to live here anyways. And just so you know it’s not going to kill you to say please and no thank you. And maybe, just maybe, let someone else talk!” She storms down the steps, creaking under her feet.

At the bottom, she comes back, placing the food at the door with a thud.

“I’ll have you know that in the past week I have been victim of two terrorist attacks, persecuted, damn near possessed, found out my family hates me, found out my older sister wants to kill me, smuggled by a goddamn pirate who makes less sense than a literal green goblin who raised me, hit on, and everyone I know is dead! And now I’m here, bothering you and I wish I weren’t because Maker knows you have no one in your life for a reason, but I am. Because guess what Kyr, we don’t always get what we fucking ask for!” At the end, Odella’s face is as red and warm as Dathomir. She sighs, wholly antagonized, then smiles. “Have a good day.”

She makes it farther this go around, trudging through a path to the broken picket fence. In hindsight, Odella blames Elenia for this entirely. She never used to be confrontational before their meeting, content to keep her head down and do as told.

That version of herself feels a millennia away now.

Odella marches back up the porch, much to Kyr’s annoyance, arms crossed, scowl threatening to be permanent.

“Girl, I told you—“

“Shut up,” she says. “Is that your garden?” Her thumb jutting over her shoulder.

“What?”

“What are you, deaf? Is that your garden?” She repeats.

Kyr narrows his gaze. He nods. “It is.”

“How was your last harvest?”

“What are you on about?”

“You’re a farmer right? How was your harvest?” She doesn’t wait for an answer. “Not great, right? Your soil’s dried up, roots are dead, I doubt you’re doing a proper rotation to let anything heal. I’m guessing you can’t make it to market as often as you’d like either.”

“I’m givin’ you ten seconds to get off my property.”

“I can help you,” Odella says. “I garden, I know plants. I can get you the best harvest you’ve seen in your life. Just give me until next season and I’ll prove it. I’ll take care of everything, I’ll even go to market for you and you can keep all the profit. I just need somewhere to stay, as soon as the season is done I’ll be out of your hair forever. I promise.”

“The hell are you doing here girl? Don’t lie to me.”

“Ask the pirate,” Odella answers, blunt. “I don’t have family or friends or anyone I can go to. All I’m asking for is one season. Three months that’s all.”

For a long time, Kyr says nothing at all. He blows smoke, tapping his foot, rocking his chair. Then, “Can you fight?”

“What?”

“You ain’t picked the safest area to run away to. Girl your size, gotta be able to protect herself.”

Odella nods. “I can fight.”

“Well?”

“I’d like to think so.”

“You shoot?”

“I can.”

“Shy bout killin someone?”

“I’ve done it before.”

Kyr’s brows raise, the answer unexpected. He nods, purposeful. “I got a room in the attic,” he says. “It’s busted to hell, but if you’re willing to fix it up, it’s yours.”

“Yes,” Odella responds immediately. “Yes. Yes that’s no issue.”

“This ain’t charity. If you’re living here you’re puttin in work. I’m old. Meaning, I’m too old for teenage bullshit. Won’t stand for it.”

“Well, actually I’m twenty so—“

“I don’t care. I don’t stand for it. I don’t want friends over. No parties. No boyfriends.”

“Trust me, I’m not here to make waves.”

“And imma need someone to clean, cook, make sure this damn place don’t fall apart.”

“Deal.”

“I ain’t paying ya either.”

“Al offered me a job.”

He sighs, sounding like Yoda. Odella almost laughs. “You aren’t giving up. Are you?”

“No sir,” she says. “I’m very stubborn.”

He nods. “Alright.”

“Alright?”

“You can stay. Just for the season, then you’re out. Got it?”

“Yes,” she says. “Yes. Understood. Thank you. Thank you so much. You won’t regret this.”

He snorts, flicking away his roll. “Better not,” he mutters. “So what’s your name?”

“My name?”

“I gotta call you something don’t I?”

Odella’s hand falls to her collar, gripping the crystals from over her shirt. A name… It comes without hesitation.

“Avana,” she says. “Avana Tarré.”

Next: SUPPLEMENTAL DATA III

#the bad batch #the bad batch fanfiction #the bad batch fanfic #Hunter TBB #Crosshair TBB #Echo TBB #Wrecker TBB #Tech TBB #Omega TBB #Hunter x OC #Hunter x OFC #SW Fanfic #Daybreak

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jedimemery · 2 months

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I think we all looked past the very important fact that not only did Crosshair and Omega get away with their escape and find Hunter and Wrecker, but they managed to snag 30,000 credits in the process.

#star wars #the bad batch #tbb #clone force 99 #tbb omega #tbb crosshair #tbb hunter #tbb wrecker #bad batch #tbb spoilers #the bad batch spoilers #this was Omega’s peak hustler episode #and ofc Crosshair was the one to remember to grab the money in the middle of the chaos sjdjjdjdjdndjs #the Crossdad x Omega duo is UNMATCHED #I love this season so much already

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agrebel18 · 1 year

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I saw this last night and thought “hey maybe Twitter isn’t THAT BAD” but anyways, here’s for the people that like parallels (me)

[ID: three screenshots of a tweet that says “the category is blonde boys who are controlled and manipulated by a ‘family member’ who is technically not even related to them but their first true friend is a small cute creature that gives them magical powers and +” which then show two pictures of Hunter from The Owl House and Adrien from Miraculous Ladybug.

the second tweet says “their beautiful blue haired girlfriends is one of the most sweetest beings in the world <3″ which then show pictures of Willow from The Owl House and Marinette from Miraculous Ladybug. Then there is an addition to the tweet which has a picture of Hunter and Willow holding hands in their timeskip designs, and then a picture of Adrien and Marinette holding hands at their school. Then it shows a close-up picture of Hunter and Willow holding pinkies and Marinette and Adrien holding hands.

then there is another tweet which shows a picture of Hunter carrying Willow bridal-style, and another one of Cat Noir holding Ladybug bridal-style. Then it shows a picture of Hunter reaching out to Willow in “For The Future” and then shows Cat Noir reaching out to Ladybug in “Miracle Queen.”

The last tweet shows a picture of Hunter giving a dirty look at Flapjack, and then a picture of Adrien glaring at Plagg. The last pictures show Hunter laughing and talking to Flapjack, who’s on his shoulder, and then there is Adrien smiling affectionately at Plagg and hugging him with his hands. END ID]

#miraculous ladybug #the owl house #ml #toh #adrien x marinette #adrienette #huntlow #willow x hunter #parallels #I like both BUT I'm definitely biased towards Huntlow because I'm more attached to them and both of them AS INDIVIDUAL CHARACTERS OFC #but Adrienette is cool too plus they were one of my OG ships lol #ONE LAST THING: IF YOU'RE GONNA BE HATEFUL TO ANY OF THESE PAIRING OR CHARACTERS PICTURED ABOVE THEN PLEASE LEAVE #i DO NOT wanna have to block more people or take off comments or tags #aggie posts

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vivi-scera · 8 months

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"Five years ago, were you the leader when the Troupe slaughtered the Kurta of the Scarlet Eyes?"

1.Lifecycle of the Mole-Woman, Kim Fu. 2. @ceonnibal, twitter. 3. A Letter to Maria Casares, Albert Camus. 4 & 5. @WAGO_00, twitter. 6. [you fit into me], Margaret Atwood. 7 & 13. @qingqiye, twitter. 8. Jawab al-Kalfi, Ibn al-Qayyim. 9. @kishibe. 10. The Erl-King, Angela Carter. 11. @se_5eeeee, twitter. 12. For Girls Who Aren't Interesting in Being Easy on the Eyes, Fabiola 14. Bad and Beautiful, Beau Taplin. 15. @ChibuNyam, twitter. 16. Heart to Heart, Mer_Curia (me!!)

#in honor of september 4th ofc #kurokura #chrollopika #hunter x hunter #mine #also like shameless fic plug at the end there but who gives af #i've got two more motifs in mind for them but i'll do a mellonear one next #also might be setting off a bomb by putting this in the main tag but take it up with togashi!! it's not my fault i see his vision #no pun intended #but realistically this will get like 3 notes making my fic insertion far less cringe 🙏🏽#kurapika #chrollo lucilfer

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lainiespicewrites · 5 months

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Hi friends!

So I’m tagging everyone that’s on the tag list for Coach Sy in this! Just because I’m not sure who all my mutuals are yet. Or how else to get this out there to the people I think are actually wanting to read my Walter story 😂🥲 Anyway! I just wanted to get some feedback! You totally don’t have to answer or say anything or interact at all obviously. Because you’re human and you all have free will! But …I’m rambling because I’m nervous …wow I really am turning into my self insert characters …or I write myself well…and I’m deflecting

Okay getting to my point! I’ve started my Walter story (literally have not even introduced him yet and I’m already panicking and doubting myself) but what I’ve realized is that because Walter is a comfort character to me. Because he is a police officer. And how his whole job is safety, I’ve been using this story as like a form of therapy? And started to recount my own Sexual assault and have been sort of trauma dumping into this story. Which has been a great release.

Night hunter the movie is super heavy. We all made a conscious choice to watch it. Some of us just because Henry is in it though. And might not like heavy triggering content like that. Others like myself. Might oddly find comfort in intense films like that. What I’m trying to say or ask is. Is this a theme you guys are okay with reading? It’s a lot different from coach Sy obviously which is healing in a different way because it’s so soft and sweet and comforting. And Walt will be too but. I just have to get the trauma out. Either way I think I’m gonna finish the story. But what I’m asking is do you guys want me to post it …or rework something else for Walter?

I’m not gonna be offended! I understand it! I’m totally okay with putting that out there because it helps me. And I know that if it helps me it’s very likely someone could connect with it and help others. I just didn’t realize that I was ready to pretty much tell the exact situation in a story. Sorry this is such a heavy subject guys. I love writing and I love that it brings us together and that we all can connect over someone that we love and brings us joy and comfort!

That’s kinda how I stumbled so hard into Henry! I knew of him but I hadn’t seen much of his stuff. But I saw him in Enola Holmes and (well first of all he looked damn good) but he was so big and something about him felt safe and protective. I’ve kind of hidden in that for a while.

Wow didn’t mean to get all emotional! But that’s tumblr! Thank you guys for all the love! Again you don’t have to say anything! If I don’t get too many responses I’ll probably just post it and see what the response is! I honestly love the little fan club i feel like I’ve gained here! You guys are awesome!!! ❤️🥰

Leave a comment, or reblog that’s totally fine, or if you’re more comfortable messaging me my dms always open! I just wanna make sure we’re all comfortable and safe here obviously I’d use tigger warnings and stuff but I also don’t want to post it if the majority of people won’t be comfortable. 💕

Tumblr tag list

@summersong69 @carrie80reads @identity2212 @caramariehurst @redheadrouge @warriormirkwood @gummydummy19 @deandoesthingstome @shellyshellshell @mary-ann84 @starfirewildheart @foxyjwls007

#captain syverson #henry cavill #fanfic writing #henry cavill smut #captain syverson smut #fanfiction #captain syverson x ofc #walter marshall fanfiction #henry cavil x reader #walter marshall fluff #august walker fanfiction #august walker #walter marshall smut #walter marshall x reader #walter marshall #night hunter

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navybrat817 · 1 year

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April Reading List

Hey, lovelies! I haven't had much time to read and will add more as I can, but here are the fics I had the pleasure of reading and reblogging throughout the month of April. Please show these writers some love and heed the warnings for each fic. Remember, you are responsible for your own media consumption. Banner by yours truly and divider by the talented @saradika .

If any writer does not wish to be included in this list, please let me know.

Love, thanks, and happy reading!

Bucky Barnes x Reader

What's Up, Buck? by @late-to-the-party-81

Hope is a Dangerous Thing For a Woman Like Me to Have by @buckets-and-trees

Bandaged with Love by @jobean12-blog

SALT by @buckets-and-trees

Triage by @writing-for-marvel

Hello, Neighbor by @sunshine-on-my-mind

Burning Desperation by @rookthorne

Take Some More by @slyyywriting

Passionate Negotiations by @targaryenvampireslayer

I Wanna Be Yours by @buckycuddlebuddy

Bucky Barnes x Reader x Steve Rogers

Pound the Alarm by @rookthorne

Other Sebastian Stan Characters

God the Bounty Hunter x Reader

Call Out to Me by @mickeyhenrys

Lee Bodecker x Reader

Dead End by @shadeysprings

Steve Rogers x Reader

Rewritten by @intrepidacious

Other Chris Evans Characters

Ari Levinson x Reader

Stoned Sex by @sweater-daddiesdumbdork

Bad Moon Alphas by @biteofcherry

After Hours by @flordeamatista

Curtis Everett x Reader

Within the Shadows by @shadeysprings

Jake Jensen x Reader

Husband Material by @thornsnvultures

Miscellaneous Characters

Blind Dates and Secrets by @alicewonderao3 (Dean Winchester x OFC)

Through the Eye by @darkficsyouneveraskedfor (John Wick x Reader)

Trapped by @ironlady1993 (Tony Stark x Reader)

March ⚓ February ⚓ January

#navy's fic recs #reading list #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x reader x steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #lee bodecker x reader #god the bounty hunter x reader #curtis everett x reader #ari levinson x reader #jake jensen x reader #john wick x reader #dean winchester x ofc #tony stark x reader #show writers some love

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enchiibean · 3 months

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i feel like you are one of the only people ive seen that doesnt immediately believe gon fell in love with killua in the hunter exam arc. i feel like it's dismissive of his character, it bothers me. what are your thoughts?

Hi! Sorry for taking so long answering! I wanted to write a good answer to this because I do actually have a lot of thoughts about it, so thank you for the ask! This ended up really long and as more of an analysis on their relationship in general… I want to preface this by saying that everything in this post is simply my interpretation of the characters, and that it’s only one interpretation of many. Just because how someone else interprets their relationship is different from mine doesn’t mean I think they’re wrong, it just means we see them differently! If you read this post, I hope you are able to see my point of view!

Although Killugon is one of my favourite ships ever, introducing romantic feelings so early into their dynamic makes their relationship feel less meaningful to me. I think that their friendship is more narratively important than their romance — and I think that both of them would be okay with the other not returning their feelings because being together is more important to them than being together romantically.

One of the things that makes their relationship so special is their friendship!! Their friendship is the foundation of their relationship, and the romance exists on top of it, not before it. Although I don’t think that romantic feelings would necessarily change their motivations and actions, I do think that it would alter how the audience would perceive them! And when we look at their actions through a romantic lens, it changes how we view their motivations.

For example, to me, the reason Killua approached Gon at the beginning of the Hunter Exam and wanted to become friends with him isn’t because he had a crush on him at first sight, but because he wants to have a friend his age and to feel like a kid. Even if it’s that he developed a crush on him later in the exam, I think that the idea of him already having been attracted to Gon or even in love with him during the Hunter Exam takes away from the importance of friendship to Killua, since the climax of Killua’s character in this arc is when he declares that he just wants to be friends with Gon when he feels like he can’t even have that.

I don’t think Killua really thought that anyone would be willing to confront his family for him because that’s literally an insane thing to do?? But Gon did it!! And I think that Gon being that insane and willing to risk his life for Killua is what really dragged him out of the darkness and gave him the devotion to be insane right back at him.

On the other hand, with Gon, I feel like, when viewed through a romantic lens, his motivation during the Zoldyck Family Arc typically becomes that he’s going after Killua because he’s already developed feelings for him in the Hunter Exam Arc, which as you may have guessed, I don’t agree with. To me, that was something he’d have done for any of his friends — if Kurapika or Leorio suddenly started acting strangely and had run off when it seemed clear to Gon that they didn’t want to leave, I think he’d have chased after them, too.

We know that Gon is the type of person who would even risk his life to try to save someone he barely knows (if he likes them), like on the boat on the way to the Hunter Exam! And if I’m being completely honest, I don’t think Killua was even a particularly special friend to Gon until partway through Heaven’s Arena… If Killua hadn’t followed him and they didn’t speak ever again, Killua would’ve just been someone cool that he’d met and that he would no longer think about, and I definitely don’t think he had any romantic feelings for him by then.

That’s not to say that Killua wasn’t someone he considered a friend, just that I think that, at the time, to Gon, it was like when you make a friend at summer camp and then you lose contact as soon as you part ways. And while to Killua, Gon’s actions during Zoldyck Family Arc gave him this unpayable debt and made Killua extremely devoted to Gon, I don’t think it meant that much to Gon because again, I think this is something that he’d have done for any of his friends. However, by the end of Heaven’s Arena, I do think Killua has become someone who is special to Gon — on Whale Island, Gon tells Killua that he’s his first friend his age, and more than that, he’s someone that he wants to stay with.

In that same scene, they tell each other that they’re their first friend (their age). To me, this is something that informs so much of their dynamic — they don’t know what being friends with someone “normally” looks like, which is part of why they’re so insane!! And because of this, it’s important to me that there is at least a small period of time before this where that’s all they were — friends, no romantic feelings involved.

Their insanity extends to romance, but is not because of it — their friendship is the most important part of their relationship. This is why even during the needle scene, where I feel like I can say that I definitely think that Killua has feelings for Gon at this point (his reactions during the “it has to be Killua scene,” the “Gon, you are light scene,” etc.), the emphasis is on how Gon is precious to him because he’s his friend, even though he is probably in love with him.

That friendship foundation is so important to how I see Gon and Killua and honestly, beyond the whole “viewing their actions through a romantic lens changes how we perceive them” thing, I just… don’t see either of them as being in love by the end of the Hunter Exam! These reasons are why it’s important to how I interpret their characters for there to be a period of time where their feelings are purely platonic.

Also, as an add-on, personally, I think that there’s a chance that Gon doesn’t return Killua’s feelings in canon even at their separation since nothing that he’s done, said, or thought has felt as explicitly romantic in nature as Killua. BUT I really like the idea of Gon pining for Killua on Whale Island during their separation, haha. The earliest I can conceive of when Gon starts developing feelings for Killua is Greed Island and a lot of it has to do with the shift in their dynamic — it’s when Gon starts really saying things to demonstrate his appreciation of Killua!!

HOWEVER, that doesn’t mean I perceive his actions as romantic in nature from his perspective. For example, while “it has to be Killua” is a romantic line, I don’t think Gon said it with romantic intent (nor that he’d be aware of them yet if he did have them)! I think that that was more for Killua, as well as planting the seeds in the reader’s mind for their romance, rather than a confession from Gon. Plus, imagine if he’d confessed his feelings for Killua to TSEZGUERRA instead of Killua when Killua is RIGHT THERE…

The other reason why Greed Island is the time where I think Gon is most likely to have developed feelings for Killua is because I really don’t think he was focusing on Killua in the same way in Chimera Ant Arc and it’d be a strange point in their relationship for romantic feelings to develop to me… I can’t imagine any of the moments in Chimera Ant Arc as being one where Gon would have developed feelings for Killua, or where he would have realized them. I like the idea that his realization happens sometime either during or after the separation the most!

On the other hand, I think that Killua probably had feelings for Gon by the start of Greed Island and realized them either during the dodgeball match or the “Gon, you are light” scene because they had the most romantic undertones to me from Killua’s side :) and I think that Killua could have developed them at any point after the Zoldyck Family Arc.

I think that the way that their relationship develops is so beautiful and subtle that the romance ultimately feels very ambiguous. I don’t think that there is one specific point where we can say that either of them developed or realized any romantic feelings for each other definitively, and I don’t think there are any ideas that are necessarily wrong about when either happened, just ones that don’t align with each other! There are only different interpretations and ones that don’t align with each other and this post is only representative of my personal interpretation :) I hope this answered your question, Anon! And thank you to anyone who was willing to read the entirety of this post. It ended up much, much longer (and perhaps, much, much, more off-topic from the original question) than I expected, haha!

#ask #hunter x hunter #hxh #killugon #analysis #long post #i’m so sorry anon... this is like 1500 words... i hope this was worth the wait...?#also anon. I’m wondering what made you think i don’t think gon fell in love with killua at the hunter exam #like you’re right ofc but what made you clock me? was it the unrequited fic

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asyor · 10 months

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vampire!kdj gnawing at my brain + vampire hunter!yjh

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wild-karrde · 8 months

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Hi Karrde,

I FINALLY finished the intro and chapter 1 to my ongoing Hunter/OC fic! Your timing is great btw. It kicked my rear end into gear and will give me time to work meticulously on Chapter 2.

Here's the link:

Ok...it won't let me include the link again...well, poop.

Sending this over so you know I attempted to do it correctly. Will message you with the link. Thanks for your patience.

YAAAAAAY for finishing your intro and first chapter but BOOOOOO for Tumblr links being a bummer in my ask box again (THANK YOU FOR SENDING THE LINK IN MY DMs!). I already love Mad and Love from your description! They seem awesome and I cannot wait to get to know more about them! I adore this concept and the amount of research you've put into this (and as someone that puts playlist on all of my long fics, I love that you've included mood music for your writing). Thanks so much for sending this in and take your time on chapter 2!! We shall all await it excitedly but patiently!

Link

Participate in Fandom Friday to show your favorite creators from this week some love! :)

#FANDOM FRIDAY #creator appreciation #fic rec #fanfiction #fan fic #star wars #the bad batch #tbb #hunter #hunter x oc #hunter x ofc #hunter x original female character #nsft #lemon #lemony lemony #angst

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lovelessdagger · 1 year

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The Fall of the Jedi | Chapter Five: Considering The After and Without

Pairing: Hunter x OFC

Rating: Mature

Summary: “If not a Jedi, who are you?” Yoda asks. She shrugs. “Myself.” He looks at her with that hard quizzical stare often reserved for younglings or rebelling Padawan learners. She is both under his watch. “And who is that?”

Slow Burn, Canon Divergence

WARNINGS: Explicit Language. Sith Nonsense. Religion.

Words: 4.5K

Masterlist | Daybreak Masterlist | AO3 | Prev | Next

“You have a mother,” Anakin tells Odella, two days after the Battle of Geonosis. For the first time in six years, she is without Elenia Tarré, and it’s news she’d rather not hear. She, along with some other Padawans have been allowed a day of ‘solace and reflection’ for the Masters they have lost.

Mourning is not the Jedi way.

Anakin lays beside her on her bed, arms crossed behind his head. Odella mimics.

“What?” She asks.

“I met her while I was away in Naboo. I met your whole family, actually. They’re great friends with Padmé—Senator Amidala’s family. We had tea.”

Her only reaction is a blink.

“It’s a little insane,” he continues, taking no notice to her. “You have six sisters and four bothers. The eldest are already married with children.”

“I have ten siblings?”

“You’re the youngest.” He shrugs. “Did you know Thoren is the name of your mother? She says it’s tradition for the women to carry it. ” It’s possible she could get a word in if he’d take a breath between his own. “You look just like her,” Anakin says. “Your mother. All your sisters too.” He turns on his side. “Your mom said Thorens have strong genetics. It’s like you’re those clones we fought with.”

“Did they…” Odella hesitates. This wouldn’t count as breaking Code, would it? She’s only curious, and young, she can’t know better. “Ask of me?”

“It’s all they wanted to know,” he laughs. “Your father was delighted to hear we’re friends, and that you’re doing so well. I told them all how wonderful you are. Your parents were eager, your siblings less so but still intrigued. They’re very proud of you Del, and they can’t wait to meet you.”

“Meet me?”

“I told them we would try to visit again soon.”

Her tan skin pales, a subtle frown gracing her features. “Ani, why would you say that? I can’t meet them.”

“Sure you can,” he says. “We can. Padmé has a property on the lakes that we stayed at. You and I can go and maybe she will too, and—and you’ll meet them all and you’ll finally have a family again.”

“I don’t need a family,” Odella says.

“Everyone needs a family.”

“I don’t.”

He frowns, and as a nervous habit, tugs on his Padawan braid. “I thought you’d be excited. To have a mother again.”

“Again?”

“Elenia—“

“I don’t want to talk about her.”

“All I’m saying is,” he moves onto his elbows, looking down, “I lost my mother, and you lost yours. You’re getting another chance at one, why not take it?”

“Because I am a Jedi.” She turns away, he flips her back by her shoulder. “Or I plan to be.”

“Don’t you ever want more than this life?” Anakin asks, complete with earnest. “Haven’t you wondered of all the things you’re missing out on because of the Order?”

“On occasion, yes,” she admits, whispered. “But that does not mean I should act on it.”

“Why not?”

“It is not the Jedi way.”

“And you must always live in accordance to the rules of the Jedi?”

“Yes,” she groans, exasperated. “That’s kind of the whole point of the thing.”

Anakin settles into a similar frown, sitting up fully. “I believe we have choice.”

“We do,” Odella agrees. “You can either be a Jedi and follow the rules, or you can not, and not.”

“And would it be so bad to not be a Jedi? Do you hate the idea so much?

“If I am not a Jedi, I am no one. I am nothing. I have no value.”

“Don’t say that. Of course you do. You mean a great deal to a lot of people, including me. Jedi or not.”

Odella looks up. “Would you ever not be a Jedi?”

Anakin says nothing at first, but he cracks his back like that were the intention all along. “No,” he says. “I don’t think I’m allowed to leave.”

It’s a far grander home than Odella imagined. The architecture is different than the rest of Theed. Distinct, tall, looking as if it were made of pure white marble. Eight slender columns in the front, four on each side, a door in the middle. It’s something of a mix between the buildings of ancient philosophers of the Outer worlds and a mock of a church.

HOUSE OF THOREN lays adorned gold on a black plaque at the base of its foundation.

She could walk in, couldn’t she? If it were indeed a desire. It is her right to enter a family of mirrors she does not recognize. Would they give her a seat at dinner? A room? How well could she fit into a family built in opulence and material?

“They’re artists,” Anakin told her. “Best of Naboo. Painters, sculptures, dressmakers, musicians, anything. Padmé says you’re one of Theed’s oldest families. They’re part of the reason artistry is held so high.”

She doesn’t expect to feel anything from being here. A sense of belonging, family, desire to know. And she doesn’t. All it is, is a house, a very beautiful house, but a house. A home to twelve.

What’s worst about it all is that she can’t feel upset over not feeling upset.

She shouldn’t be here, noon has only just passed on Coruscant while Naboo enters evening. Few lights are visible from the outside, and she is only one of many gathered in the yard for admiration.

Though the prospect of being a tourist attraction isn’t the most appealing, it does help her in not looking like a criminal.

“You’d probably be a singer, no… a dancer. No, singer, both,” Anakin said. “Or politics. You’re always the odd one out.”

“Look at these lilies,” an older woman beside her gasps, leaning down to the garden bed. She touches orange petal and follows to the red tulips beside. “Oh and the hyacinths, what a gorgeous yellow.” She looks to Odella, the only one giving her attention, and grins. “They say there’s a flower planted for each daughter. The sons have statues around Theed.” Her attention then turns to the rest, gently running her fingers on their petals.

“Zantedeschia, petunia, and iberis,” Odella lists, pointing. The woman spares her a look, and she blushes under the mask covering her face. “I… garden. Too.”

“Ah,” she quips, moving along with her cane.

“Wait,” Odella jumps, “There are only six varieties. I heard they have seven daughters. Don’t they have seven? A Jedi… person.”

A spindly finger raises, pointing at the top of the steps. In a single pot sits an orange flower, as deep as the burning of flame and sunset.

“Orchids,” Odella says.

“I’m sure you know they require great care. They’re difficult, and quite easy to kill. For it’s protection, it sits high above the rest.” She hums a chuckle of sorts. “Befitting for a Jedi, no? Better than us all.”

Odella frowns, head cocked. “I’m certain she wouldn’t see herself that way. The Jedi are humble people.”

“Are they?”

“Yes.”

“Then why are they paraded as war heroes?”

“I’m not sure its their choice, the Republic they—” she stops short, clearing her throat. “The people need something to believe in, and lightsabers photograph well.” A sentiment repeated from the Chancellor.

When the war began, every Jedi from as young as new Padawans to as old as Yoda, were photographed and given Republic issued IDs. A handful were selected for advertisements, propaganda posts to the Republic. Odella was chosen for her connection to Palpatine’s homeworld.

“A favor, to your family,” he told her.

Dressed up by a team of people she didn’t know, she was posed with the title of Naboo Knight circulating while they unraveled her Padawan braid.

The knighting ceremony was the next day, they all said it would come out anyways and she was saved the trouble of a cut. She was the only Jedi without a piece of themself to hold.

“If they do not have choice,” the woman says, “What hope does that give the rest?”

Odella cannot offer further thought or conversation befitting to her role of a Jedi, undercover or not. So she doesn’t, and walks away tugging the hood to shadow her eyes.

The snow on Kaller is the fresh kind, pillowy instead of ice. The boots of Clone Force 99 sink four inches deep, Wreckers six. The woods are never ending, Tech leading the group with his head stuck in his nav system.

“I thought you were a map,” Echo says to Hunter. “Can’t you figure out where we’re going?”

“Better to let Tech figure it out,” he says. “Before he complains he could have done it anyways.”

“Oh.” Echo nods.

“Hunter doesn’t want to stick his hand in the snow,” Crosshair calls over his shoulder, in front of the pair with Wrecker.

Hunter coughs. “That too.”

“It bothers his precious nerves.”

“Oh,” Echo repeats, less understanding than before.

“Shut up Crosshair,” Hunter says.

“Do you have to touch the ground?” Echo asks. “I thought it just,” he motions, “Happened.”

“Connecting to the core makes it easier,” Hunter explains. “I can figure out exact locations, distance, roadblocks. If I don’t it’s more like…” he trails off, sparing a smirk and a glare. “Echoes.”

“Funny.”

“Besides, there aren’t large sources of electricity here.”

“What does that matter?”

“If whoever we’re helping were under a mass attack, I’d get a feel for the clankers,” he shrugs, “We’re in no rush.”

“It should still be a priority—“

“Echo,” Hunter interrupts. “I get that you’re still new to the group, but you gotta realize we don’t work like or with the regs for a reason. The rules, the protocol,” he waves his hand, “It doesn’t mean much here.”

Echo stops for a moment, his permanent frown deepening. “I’m a reg.”

“Were,” Tech quips from the front. “It’s debatable whether you’re much of a man at all anymore.” He looks over his shoulder. “Do not be discouraged, ultimately it is for the best.”

“How so?”

“You’re far more useful in your current state than you ever were as a reg.”

Crosshair snorts. “That’s still in the air.”

“Shove it Cross,” Hunter says. “Echo’s fitting right in. He’s one of us now, we gotta give him a little credit, it’s not easy changing teams.” He leans over to Echo. “Don’t worry about him, he mocks because he cares.”

“I do not,” Crosshair mutters.

A pelt of snow hits the back of his head, knocking it forward. The iciness of its chill melts down his neck, into the collar of his blacks. He turns sharp, a glare to match. Wrecker stands to the left as the source, tossing a snowball in his hands.

His cackle is a barrel, huge form doubling over. “You should see your face Cross!” He mocks his brothers expression, over-exaggerated face pinched in, jaw dropped.

A mocked face which soon gets hit with its own ball of snow.

Chaos breaks loose in the woods, each member brought into the fight on account of Wreckers aim being considerably worse than Crosshairs. The bigger one forms a sphere the size of their heads. He carries it above his own, stomps leaving deep prints in the snow.

“Wrecker!” Tech calls from his position on the ground, having slipped in attempt to stand. His arms shield his face, cowering away.

“Shouldn’t you stop that?” Echo pants. He at least had the foresight of putting on his helmet before joining in. Unlike Hunter, whose newly wet hair sticks to his face. He doesn’t seem to mind much.

His head waves from his to side, puffing air. “Wrecker!” He calls, gaining attention. “Make sure his data pad isn’t on ‘em. Don’t wanna ruin it.”

“Oh,” Wrecker gruff. “Good call Sarge.”

“No need,” Crosshair speaks from their lineup. He waves the technology with a grin. “It’s in safe hands.”

Tech looks over with fallen jaw, eyes bulged out. “Have I ever mentioned how I love you all?”

“Not particularly,” Echo says.

“Good.”

Hunter shrugs, and waves. “Fire away, Wrecker.”

Hunter leads the group again, a pissy Tech refusing to ‘aid you neanderthals any more’. Sometimes he could be more dramatic than Crosshair, it was honestly impressive. Or it would be if it didn’t mean Hunter had to plunge his hand into the snow.

“Hey Sarge?” Wrecker asks.

“Yeah?”

“Now that Dooku is dead, shouldn’t the war be over?”

“No,” Tech answers, the first he’s spoken since the hike began. “There is still General Grievous as he’s taken control of the Separatist militia.”

“Right,” Hunter nods, “Even after that—“

“The Republic will need to discuss deals of diplomacy with the Separatist planets.”

“Yeah and—“

“And, there will no doubt be remnant supporters, extremists guerrillas in need of handling. On paper, the war will end. In reality, it may take many more months until the Separatists are defeated entirely.”

Hunter sighs. “What he said.”

“What happens to us?” Wrecker asks.

Hunter looks to Tech who shrugs, and sighs again. “We’ll get sent to deals with those extremists.”

“And after that?”

“After?”

“Like when there’s no more Seps. Then what?”

The group settles into this forced silence, crunching footsteps their only sound. It’s a prospect no clone likes to imagine to great extent. The After.

When the war is won and the people free. When the Jedi return to whatever it is they did before this whole mess started on Geonosis. Hunter was only eighteen when the war began, nine years out of the growth tube. This moment, this war, it’s all he and all his brothers have been groomed to know.

Without it, what are they?

Men sure, clones, defects specifically. Though, Tech might be right, they’re objectively more useful than the regs. Surely the Republic will find some use for them. But then they’d be separated, for the first time in their lives…

He’s heard regs talk about it before, what they plan to do. Most have some idea of settling in groups in the Outer Rim, keeping to their own. The idiots—in his own opinion—have thought up fantasies of starting a family. Finding a nice girl or guy or whoever, having the whole married life, kids.

Yeah right.

The only one with those chances is Cut, and he’s already achieved it. The children aren’t even of his own, which is better for everyone in the long run. Clones are infertile, a specific choice of the Kaminoans. The last thing anyone needs is millions of the same men breeding the galaxy.

Talk about a disaster.

As for Hunter… He tries not to dwell on the subject of The After. He’ll stay with this brothers for as long as he can, forget about everyone, everything else.

“We’ll make our own way,” Hunter decides aloud. “Stick together.”

It gives no one comfort, but he isn’t sure if he was trying to.

“Hey! Hey!” A young boy runs to Clone Force 99, wearing a brown hooded robe and a mix of neutral colored dress under that. He waves frantic, a single distinct braid of brown hair waving with it.

“We’re fighting for him?” Wrecker mumbles.

“He clearly is a Padawan,” Tech says. “I’m certain the Jedi Master is close by.”

“Hey, I’m talking to you!” The boy stops in front of the group, hunched over and panting. “You’re the reinforcements aren’t you? Where’s the rest of your people?”

Crosshair snorts. “We’re all you’re getting kid.” Hunter shoves him in the stomach.

“I’m not a kid,” he retorts. “I’m Caleb. Caleb Dume.”

Hunter crouches slightly, giving a nod. “Good to meet you, Commander Dume,” he points to himself, then the others, “I’m Hunter, that’s Crosshair, Tech, Echo, and the giant’s Wrecker.”

Wrecker is the only one to wave.

“You guys are clones?” Caleb asks. “You don’t look like clones.”

“We get that a lot,” Hunter says. “Where’s your Master?”

Caleb point to where he came. “She’s with Capitan Grey—“

“We’re helping Grey?” Wrecker groans. “C’mon!”

“Can it Wrecker,” Hunter says. “Go on Commander.”

“We’re surrounded by B1s, I barely made it out. We were told there’d be more of you.”

“Don’t sweat it, we’re all you need,” Hunter stands, putting his helmet on. The rest of the group mimics. “Just lead the way, and we’ll clear it.”

“Are you sure?”

“Sure we’re sure.” He shrugs and looks back at the squad. “Bad Batch, it’s time to get to work.”

“I’m sorry, citizen. These matters are for the council to discuss.”

“I understand.”

“…Ahsoka. More to say, have you? A message for Skywalker, perhaps?”

“No, Master. Thank you. I’ll tell him myself when I see him.”

“May the Force be with you, Padawan… Appear you may, Odella.”

“I’m glad to see Ahsoka looks well,” Odella says, turning on the holoprojector in her palm. “You know, her outfit looks to be inspired by Mandalorian—“

“Have you entered the home of Palpatine?” Mace asks, reappearing.

She swallows collecting spit, and nods. “I have.”

“And surveillance—“

“Is a nonissue. There’s no electricity in the entire place,” she motions behind her, “I had to come outside just for a signal.”

“And security?”

“Thought I was Talia, fixing up some… painting, I don’t know. Point is, he let me right in.”

“Good. As soon as you learn anything you call this channel immediately,” Mace says.

“I understand… Master, if I may ask one question—“

“I have to go. I will be awaiting your call.”

He leaves just like that.

“Of course,” Odella sighs. “I should—“

“Odella,” Yoda interrupts. “What have you, to say?”

Her smile is close lipped, mimicking a straight line. “It’s nothing, Master.”

Yoda hums, shaky blue hologram nodding. “Lie, a Jedi does not.”

“It’s a good thing I’m not a Jedi right now,” Odella says, soft like the wind. She wipes her clean hands over the dark linen of her pants. Gloves bulge untouched in her pocket. Quinlan always said those with their skill should have them on at all times, a preventative measure of sorts.

He never wore his own.

“If not a Jedi, who are you?” Yoda asks.

She shrugs. “Myself.”

He looks at her with that hard quizzical stare often reserved for younglings or rebelling Padawan learners. She is both under his watch.

“And who is that?”

Odella remains mute, she doesn’t know.

If she is not a Jedi, she is no one. It may be for the best.

“Apparently I am my estranged sister Talia,” she cracks, forcing a full smile, teeth and all. “She’s a painter, not a Jedi.”

He grants her no relief of amusement.

She looks to the sky, the sun is due to set soon. “I should retreat inside before I gain suspicion. I’m sure your attention needed on Kashyyyk as well.”

Yoda sighs. She carries less pride from it than before. “Rasie you well Master Tarré did. Better than I. Separate you and her, never I should have done. Alive she still may be. Different you would be as well.”

She frowns, a line showing between her brows. “Do you not like how I am?”

He avoids a direct answer. “A strong Jedi you are, and belief in the Force you have. It is belief, respect for yourself you have not. Failed you in this manner, I have.”

“How would you rather I be? Like Elenia?”

“No,” he answers without thought. “Like yourself.”

Palpatine’s home resembles more of a decrepit palace than any other functional living space. Everything is a mix of dark grays and blacks with ostentatious accents of gold. Furniture is limited, a single chaise lounge of red velvet by an unlit fireplace. Odella walks with a small lantern given to her by the guards.

Paintings are large and scattered on the walls. Landscapes at night, wilted flowers, abstract splatterings Odella could never derive meaning from. She steps to the one closest to eye level, a delicate white writing of Talia Thoren painted in the corner.

She’s very talented, Odella decides internally. She herself was never very good in such creation. Though, she supposes she might have gotten a legitimate chance to explore if younglings were permitted arts and crafts past the age of four.

Talia must be close to her in birth order if the guards so easily allowed her entry. Or Odella looks far older than a twenty year old girl. She’d rather not ruminate on this option. Anakin did say the eldest of her family have settled with marriage and children—that she’d certainly prefer to not project on herself—perhaps Talia joined the lot of them.

I can’t believe I’m an aunt, Odella thinks. All the announcements and milestones she must have missed. Twelve different people with her blood, attending each others weddings, caring for another in sickness, playing pretend as children, ranting about the hardships of life as adults. She doesn’t believe any of them think of her, she hasn’t thought of them after all.

Maybe when this is all said and done, she’ll return to the home. Properly introduce herself, allow her parents to know of the young woman she’s become. That the Naboo Knight is more than an outdated promotional photo. That she has interests and passions and beliefs. She can meet her brothers, sisters, nieces and nephews if they’re around. The children would certainly be excited to meet a real Jedi, they always are.

It’s best she does none of this. In case they say she’s not met any expectations. Better to stay a fantasy.

Odella follows the wall further into the palace, feet clacking against marble. She has nothing but the Force to guide, but it’s yet to lead her astray so far, so she holds no worry. Her shadow stretches from the lanterns illumination of sunlight gold, turning her body long.

She steps into his office, a sharp contrast from the rest of the home. The lantern hangs on a hook by the doorway. It’s a cluttered space with knick knacks and bookshelves, actual paper thrown about, cobwebs in the corners. The room lacks windows and any other means of ventilation, a stuffy dusty mess.

“Palpatine is always so put together,” she mutters to herself. Everyone must have their secrets.

Going through it all in a regular means would take all night at the least, and if she’s being honest none of it looks all that important. Drafts of bills from his time as senator, personal finances, books on history, more paintings from Talia.

Odella hasn’t had many interactions with Sith, but surely they aren’t this boring.

“That’s why what we do is so cool,” she hears Quinlan say to her. One of his first lessons to their ability. “Everyone else sees what’s right there right now. We see how it used to be, what it means.”

She wants to call him a bastard, but her tongue feels heavy like cement.

Running her hands across the bookshelf, she pulls on various ones, hoping for a trigger. Nothing. She moves to the desk, searching under for a similar solution. Again she is empty handed.

No memories come either.

Huffing, she looks up and follows the light of the lantern. It hits the wall behind her, shining on another painting. This a portrait of Palpatine, dressed in his typical Chancellor garb. The white signature of her sisters stands prominent in the corner. So it was made recently, unremarkable if not for the fact that the Chancellor rarely visited Naboo. What with the war and all. It’s a wonderful likeness, if it were commissioned surely he could have it shipped to Coruscant. Not trapped in this decadent cell.

The shadow of the light begins above his eyes, his visible skin ghostly below it, the smile haunting. It hangs above the mantel of another fireplace, unlit candelabras on either side. This small slat is the cleanest portion of the whole room. Odella runs her finger along the dark wood, picking up no dust.

Interesting.

She grabs the lantern and a random note from the ground. Something about the pay schedule of the guards from seven cycles ago.

Putting the paper on fire, she quickly lights each candlestick and blows out the paper. The floor rumbles under her, and she leans against the desk, a swift panic. Planetary shockwaves never showed up in her research.

The fireplace lowers into the ground, candles now stood as spikes. A deep tunnel appears in its place, cement walls curved at the top.

Grabbing the lantern again, Odella leans into the hole, seeing nothing but the abyss. Does this warrant a call to the Council? Most likely not. Mace would say she’s wasting time. For all she knows every politician has a secret backroom. The Temple has its fair share of tunnels and underground roadways after all. Palpatine is an esteemed man, if he had to make a quick escape this would be it.

A chill comes from the inside, prickling her tan skin. She feels a pull in her chest, her feet stepping forward without her brain realizing it.

Odella follows the path until she comes to a set of stairs, carefully stepping down. They’re steep, giving her issues with balance. Palpatine is healthy for his age but she’s a Jedi struggling on the endeavor. When was the last time he could do this? Before she was born certainly.

She comes into a much smaller room, matching the plainness of the home above. It’s all cement, she calls out to the void to hear an echo of herself in return. The lantern does nothing here, so it’s set down. From her hip and under her cape, Odella grabs a hilt of her sabers. Purple light fills the room, and she has to hold it an arms length away to avoid being blinded.

The floor is smeared in deep red paint—or she assumes—circles and scribbled illegible aurabesh all alone it and its walls. Pedestals stand scattered, ancient artifacts on display. Books, weapons, metal made masks.

“Put your gloves on during creepy investigations,” she hears from Quinlan. “You don’t wanna touch the wrong thing and get sent into shock. Believe me.”

Spite enters her soul. Fuck him.

“Right then,” Odella says to herself. “Let’s get to work.”

A cruel fact of psychometry: It was never meant for dealing with Sith. Memories and emotions are meant to be pleasant and kind, not rotten and cruel. And so, it is by then a similar truth that memories and emotions are more often than not just that. Rotten and cruel.

She’s undone by a single touch to a scroll, the farthest thing in the room, not even getting a chance to open it. Everything is a momentum of flashes from decades ago. Palpatine, a figure of shadow, ritual candles, red plasma light.

Ultimately, the gloves wouldn’t have done much but lessen the torture. The dark side penetrates however it can into the soul.

The pain is unlike one she’s ever felt before. Her entire body is captive to a chill, to nails in skin and crippling agony. As she falls unconscious, splayed across the concrete floor, her head slams against the stone. Her lightsaber throws itself out of her hand, rolling across the room with its violet hum. Her spotted white vision fades to black with only one final thought:

Chancellor Palpatine is the Sith Lord.

Chancellor Palpatine is… Darth Sidious.

Next: ORDER SIXTY-SIX

#The Bad Batch #Hunter x OC #Hunter X OFC #Hunter TBB #Hunter TBB x OC #the bad batch fanfiction #the bad batch fanfic #TBB Fanfic #TBB #TBB Fanfiction #Daybreak

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hyakunana · 1 year

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"I think you should know, this is something I'll never forget."

Happy Dawning!! And Happy New Year!! 8D

#destiny #destiny 2 #destiny the game #bungie #destiny art #season of the seraph #hunter guardian #the young wolf #the exo stranger #elisabeth bray #elsie bray #oc x canon #fanart #comic #feat mara ana and camrin i'll not add the tags bc of small appearances #and obligatory fish the pouka ofc #set during sotseraph week 2 and first week of dawning #bc i began working in the idea by them but just finished it now #wATCH ME CATCH UP ON LAST DAWNING I MISSED HHHHHHHHH #seriously considering if i'll justify that in my oc lore or just pretend i did give her cookies jxcbxibvxiui #SCHEDULING THIS DURING NEW YEAR'S MIDNIGHT BC I DESERVE THIS #as I schedule this i still have a lot to work on today wHY AM I THIS KIND OF PERSON HUH #I STILL GOTTA BEGIN WORKING ON MY WEEK COMICS YELP #but elsie and alfa are priority - for me at least #speakin of priority SOTSERAPH DEFINITELY BEST SEASON OF THE YEAR AND SO FAR MY FAV SEASON OF ALL #WE LIVE IN THE TIMELINE WHERE ELSIE GETS EXCITED TO MEET ANA'S GIRLFRIEND #THE TIMELINE RASPUTIN ROASTS CLOVIS AT EVERY SINGLE OPPORTUNITY #THE TIMELINE MARA TURNS TO ELSIE AND SAY 'THE LINE BETWEEN CONTROL AND PROTECTION IS SO VERY THIN'#THE TIMELINE - ok polux we get it - ELSIE TURNS TO ERAMIS AND SAYS SHE STILL CAN DEFY THE WITNESS #THE TIMELINE - omg someone shut her up - RASPUTIN GETS EMOTIONAL SEEING THE BRAY SISTERS TOGETHER

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saiyanprincessswanie · 11 months

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SaiyanPrincessSwanie - Reading List Week 149 & 150

Welcome to Week 149 & 150

As always these will be listed in no particular order. None of these stories are mine. I’m just signal boosting them. Author is listed next to title. My goal is to signal boost writers and spread positivity in the community. 💜💜

Click HERE to see what I will or won’t read. This is very important.

Click HERE for past reading lists.

My Masterlist click HERE

Please make sure you’re reading the warnings on every story. They range from dark to fluff. Do Not Read if you are under 18 years old. These stories are meant for adults only. You’re responsible for your own media consumption.

Page-break by @whimsicalrogers & header by me

If you can, please reblog these lists so they can reach more people on Tumblr.

I love you 3000 💜 Missy

Mine Part 2 - (Steve x Reader) - @saiyanprincessswanie

Protecting What's His - (Bucky x Reader) - @jobean12-blog

Secrets chp 14 - (Steve x OFC, Brock x OFC) - @nekoannie-chan

Bucky oneshot - @angrythingstarlight

Starving, Darling - (Bucky x Reader) - @navybrat817

Rule Number One - (Bucky x Reader) - @sidepartskinnyjeans

Bucky One shot - @angrythingstarlight

A fallen crush - (Steve x Reader) - @biteofcherry

Not my world part Il - (Steve x OFC) - @nekoannie-chan

Two kings (10) - FIN of Arc 1 - @holylulusworld

A Vampire's Kiss - (Bucky x Reader) - @jobean12-blog

All Access - (Bucky x Reader) - @jobean12-blog

Slow - (Steve x Reader) - @nekoannie-chan

Dog Tags - (Stucky x Reader) - @sidepartskinnyjeans

Our psychos break the new toy in - (Mr Freezy x Reader) - @the-iceni-bitch

You Get What You Pay For - (God the Bounty Hunter x Reader) - @navybrat817

Wild Kitten (10) - @holylulusworld

A hard world - (Steve x Reader) - @holylulusworld

Secrets Chapter 15 - (Steve x ofc, Brock x ofc) - @nekoannie-chan

Delectable Discipline - (Steve x Reader x Lloyd) - @labella420

Terms and Conditions - Keep the Change - (Andy x Reader) - @navybrat817

3 Billion Divorce - My Dear Wife - (Lloyd x Reader) - @deliciousangelfestival

Collared part 15 - (Dean x Reader) - @spnexploration

I wish it wasn't true - (Steve x Reader) - @nekoannie-chan

Visible Mark - Part 3 - (Bucky x Reader x Steve) - @navybrat817

Digital Bath - Part 2 - (Bucky x Reader) - @syntheticavenger

A Kiss to Remember - (Bucky x Reader) - @jobean12-blog

Fresh Fallen Snow, Part 2 - (Curtis x Reader) - @georgiapeach30513

Signals - (Steve x Reader) - @nekoannie-chan

His Inheritance - Part 19 - (Steve x Reader) - @jtargaryen18

#saiyanprincessswanie #recommended reading #missy reads #missy reblogs #bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x ofc #brock rumlow x ofc #lloyd hansen x reader #curtis everett x reader #dean winchester x reader #god the bounty hunter x reader #mr freezy x reader #stucky x reader

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lainiespicewrites · 5 months

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I just want to feel safe - Walter Marshall fanfic. Part 1?

Okay. Preface. This story has mentions of sexual assault. This is a personal story. But I've changed a lot of the names and some of the actual story to fit the fic. I think that I've decided this is going to be a series. It's taken a lot out of me writing this but. I really love Walter and I can see this relationship growing into something more than what is here. I also think that from a healing standpoint, I'm gonna write the story I never gave myself the chance to have. Anyway. That's enough from me. I'll let you guys read the story now. I know this is a heavy topic and situation but I'm still always open to comments and feedback. Thank you guys for the support in posting this <3

Plot: OFC reports assault after 2 years and Detective Walter Marshall is assigned to her case. He will stop at nothing to help her feel safe again.

Warnings: Panic attacks, mentions of sexual assault (retelling the story of what happened.)

Unbeta'd Mistakes are totally my own and I own that. This might be a mess because honestly I was super emotional writing this but it felt good to get it all down.

Please don't share without crediting.

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I’m not sure what I expected a police station to be like. Frankly I’d never really imagined myself in one. Kind of funny how things can change like that. All of a sudden you’re doing things you’d never imagine. That’s how I ended up here. In this strangely familiar looking police station. I guess maybe that’s the one thing movies and Tv got right. Police stations for the most part look exactly the same. This whole night started from a list of “Fuck it why not’s” that spiraled out of control. But that explanation alone was not enough to help the officer help me. I looked back at the petite woman in front of me. I’m sure she was a good police officer. I wasn't trying to doubt her skill. But her overly sympathetic nature and deer in the headlights look on her face was making me feel worse.

“I know this is hard.” She spoke softly, placing her hand over mine on the table. She didn’t know. She had no idea what this was like. Being attacked like this. Letting yourself become vulnerable because ‘why not’ I’d known those boys my entire life. When my brother invited me out for drinks with his friends, I didn’t have a reason not to trust them. Not to trust… him. My brother didn’t know. He couldn’t have known. He was betrayed too. “But I need you to tell me what you remember, what happened to you, so we can help you.” I looked around again At the empty gray walls. Out the window into the dark cloudy night sky. It must be almost midnight now. Anywhere but at the woman in front of me. What did she say her name was? Rachel? I focused on the empty desk chair behind her when I finally spoke.

“It doesn’t matter. I remember all of it. Every detail. But we have no case.” I muttered I looked down playing with my hands again.

“Alayna,” She said my name softly. I met her eyes again for the first time since we sat at her desk. “You don’t know that. You did the right thing coming here and reporting it. I need you to talk to me.” She pleaded with me. She didn’t understand.

“No,” I said again. “I do know.”

“How do you know we can’t help you?” She asked her eyes boring into mine. I know she wants to help. I know that but I just don’t see how they can. not after it’s been so long.

“There’s no evidence.” I said.

“Sweetheart, with all due respect you aren’t a police officer we may be able to find something you wouldn’t think to look…”

“It was two years ago.” Rachel paused then. She took a deep breath and sat back in her chair.

“2 years ago?” she repeated. I nodded. She let out a soft sigh. “Sweetie, Why did you wait so long to tell somebody?” She asked. This felt more manageable. This I at least knew the answer for. It was logical. It made sense. Well it doesn’t really make much sense but when you’re bargaining with yourself it does.

“I didn’t think it would matter. I’m still not sure it does.” I said. I swallowed hard. Now or never Alayna. You didn’t walk 3 miles to the police station, in the cold, after a panic attack to not give yourself some kind of peace. I let out a long breath and started again but then the door of the squadroom opened. A tall figure walked in. I couldn’t make out much of him at first. Just that he was very tall, 6,1 or something and had a full beard. He was wearing a heavy winter coat and beanie. I tensed a little when I watched him walk from the entrance to the desk next to Rachel’s. He shrugged off his coat revealing a thick gray sweater. He draped his coat over his chair and pulled off his beanie. His hair was a mess of dark curls. As soft and cozy as he should have looked…Something still felt intimidating about him. Maybe it was because he hadn’t spoken a word since he’d walked in the room. None of us had actually.

“Alayna,” Rachel said my name, getting my attention and finally breaking the silence. “This is detective Walter Marshall. He’s going to be working on your case.” That’s right. When I came in to report, the officer on duty at the station had to attend to a call. When I told them I wanted to report an assault, they told me that they’re psychiatrist was still in the office. I could talk to her until one of the detectives was available. I think they were afraid if they told me to come back later… I wouldn’t. They were probably right. Although I’m not quite sure if it would be because I’d lost my nerve or dying of hypothermia on the walk home. Rachel wasn’t even a detective. Was I really that out of it? Why didn’t I remember that until now?

“Okay,” was all I managed to say.

“I can stay,” she said. I'm not sure if it was for me or the detective. Maybe both. “If you’re more comfortable. If it’s easier for you. Ya know?” she asked. I shook my head and I watched as the detective…Walter, put his hand on her shoulder.

“Go home, it's been a long day,” he told her. His voice was deep but he spoke softly. And surprisingly he had an English accent. “We’ll manage,” his eyes were tired and heavy when they met mine. He offered a gentle smile. I nodded.

“You’re sure?” She asked.

“I don’t want to keep you Rachel. I can talk to the detective.” I said. She nodded.

“Okay, wait right here, just a moment while I catch him up okay? And then you two will get started.” I gave her a slight nod and just stared out the window again. Rachel and the detective went off into a side office somewhere to discuss what I’d already mentioned. This was sure to be quick now. As soon as she tells him how long it’s been, he’ll dismiss me. This was so stupid. I’d kept this to myself for this long. I knew this was a bad idea. Just as I had convinced myself to get up and leave the office door opened again.

“Thank you,” Walter’s voice said from across the room. “Get home safe.” he told Rachel as she waved goodbye. I gave her a small wave. I sat back in the chair trying to relax. But I knew I couldn’t. He came back over to the desk leaning his hip against it, crossing one foot over the other. “Are you comfortable out here or would you like to talk in my office?” He asked. “There aren’t too many people still around this late but, it would offer a bit more privacy than the open squadroom. It’s up to you.” He stated. I thought about it for a moment. Finally, I pulled my eyes from the window to look up at him.

“I think I’d feel better with a little more privacy,” I said. He gave me a sympathetic smile.

I stood up from my spot next to the desk. Then he led me out of the squadroom and down the hall to a small office. There wasn’t much, just a large desk with nothing but a computer and a travel coffee mug on it. The walls were bare other than a standard wall clock. He motioned for me to take a

seat in one of the chairs in front of his desk as he shut the door behind us. He circled around to the other side of the desk, setting a file down and taking a seat across from me.

“You’re reporting an assault, is that right?” He asked. I nodded.

“Yes, not a recent one. I’m sure Rachel informed you.” I said. I felt so ashamed of myself. I was wasting his time. Detective Marshall’s eyes met mine. I didn’t find the same overly sympathetic look in his eyes like I did with Rachel. He wasn’t pitying me. He wasn’t trying to psychoanalyze me. At the same time, it wasn’t cruel or harsh. Not even annoyed. Just open.

“She did,” he spoke after a brief pause. “But I’d like to hear the information from you myself. If that's alright with you?” He questioned. I swallowed hard. I leaned forward and folded my hands on the desk.

“I can do that.” My voice shook when I spoke. “Will I need to write a witness statement too?” I asked him. Telling this story once was going to be hard enough. Seeing it written on paper was going to be gut wrenching.

“Let’s just get through this conversation first. We’ll talk about the rest later, "he said. I nodded. He sat with his forearms leaning on the desk and his hands folded together. He pursed his lips into a tight small smile and nodded toward me. “Whenever you’re ready.” He stated. I swallowed hard. Of course it didn’t necessarily mean that. It was after midnight now. This guy probably wanted to get home. I had to get this out.

“November 12th, or well 13th I guess. It was around 1:30 or 2am so the 13th. My brother, his friends and I had gone out for his birthday. It wasn’t his birthday though, we had to wait until the weekend to celebrate because it fell during the week.” I was rambling. He needed details. I need to stop rambling. “Uh anyway, We were at a bar, earlier that night on the 12th, but I got kind of tired. The boys were picking on me for being a lightweight and leaving early. I left the bar at 11, got home at like 11:15. I went right to bed. I was really tired. The boys were all gonna come back to the house when they were done at the bar. I woke up to the bedroom door bursting open at like 1 am and someone yelling my name. I screamed. It was my brother's friend. Um.” I paused for a second, starting to feel uncomfortable. Did I have to describe it exactly? What did I have to say? But Walter spoke, easing the tension a bit.

“And what’s his name?” He asked me.

“His name is Justin, uh Justin Veach.” I responded. Walter nodded for me to continue as he wrote a note in his folder. He put the pen down and looked up at me again letting me know he was listening.

“Uh He said, ‘It’s okay! Don’t freak out, it's just me! We’re back, come hang out with us!’ Then he came over to my bed and kissed my face which was weird but he was an affectionate guy and well they were still drunk. I didn’t think much of it. He’d known me since I was a baby. He and my brother had been best friends since kindergarten. They were ten years older than me and he watched me grow up.” I shuttered a little thinking about it. “Um so after that he left. After telling me to come down stairs to talk with them again. And I did. We sat in the kitchen. I just sat there sleepy and confused. The boys were talking and eating drunk snacks or whatever,” I kind of chuckled a little. “It was nice. But we were talking about how it’s so funny that I’m old enough to go drink with them now. And Justin kept making these comments about remembering when I was born and that I was such a beautiful baby. It seemed so weird. But looking back. He knew. He knew what he was planning on doing…. We all said we were gonna go to bed. Blake, my brother, told Justin he could sleep on the couch or they could share his bed or whatever. But Justin was coming up the stairs with us and he said ‘I wanna cuddle’ to me, and he was still drunk and I thought he was joking so I laughed it off and said ‘yeah sure’ I let him lay in my bed. But I put myself on the inside. I thought he was just gonna lay there a minute and like it would be a joke. Blake did too. He asked if I was okay before he went to his room. Because he was still kinda drunk and ready to crash. I said. I was. But Justin didn’t just lay there. He took off his pants before he got into the bed so he was just in boxers and his shirt. And,”

I was shaking. I couldn’t do this anymore. I was gonna cry. I didn’t know this man. He was surely annoyed by me and. God he probably thought I was lying. That’s what Justin would tell him. When he confronts him. That I’m lying. Or maybe that's what I wanted. This was so stupid I shouldn’t have come here. I swallowed hard again. I looked back up at walter. I could feel the tears in my eyes.

“Take your time.” He said softly. “Is this when he hurt you?” He asked.

“I can’t,” my voice was trembling now. “I’m sorry I’ve wasted your time, I can’t do this.” I sobbed. I stood up to leave his office. Walter stood and walked to the other side of the desk gently reaching out and putting his hand on my shoulder. “There’s nothing you can do, I know that. I wasted your time detective. I’m so sorry.”

“Hold on,” Walter’s voice was low. “Sit back down, and breathe for a moment. If anything else I can’t let you walk out of here and drive home in this state.” I looked at his face. He was concerned. Worried about me. About my safety. I sat back down in the chair. I took a deep breath trying to compose myself again. But I couldn’t seem to catch my breath. “It’s okay, You’re safe in here. I’m going to do everything I can to help you Alayna.” Detective Marshall said, crouching down in front of me to meet my eyes again. I nodded. “Do you think you can keep going?” he asked. I nodded again. He stood and leaned on the edge of his desk. His proximity seemed to help keep my calm. I don’t know what was so different between him and talking with Rachel. But when he said he could help, I believed him. Maybe it was the sheer size of this man. Or the gun on his hip. Or maybe there was something in his aura or some other bullshit I didn’t understand that was protective and made me trust him. Fuck maybe I’d gone to far to turn back now and I was too emotionally exhausted not to lean on anyone who would listen. Whatever it was, I continued.

“At first I was just laying next to him. Like I was saying, I thought it was a joke. But he wrapped his arm around me to make me cuddle him.. I guess. He started rubbing my back. I froze up. I started to recognize that his hand was lingering where it shouldn’t but I couldn’t say anything. And this guy he’s .. he’s huge. I mean like 6 foot and like 400 lbs when he rolled over on to me and started touching me I felt paralyzed I couldn’t move but… I couldn’t have pushed him off if I’d tried. I just felt hopeless. That’s when everything happened.” I sniffled softly. I hiccuuped catching my breath. “It was like I was outside of myself watching it all happen…I .. I don’t know if that makes sense? But I couldn’t do anything. All I could do was lay there. I don’t remember if I said no. But,

“You didn’t consent. That’s no. This was not your fault. You’ve already tried to blame yourself. It’s a really common thing, unfortunately, that you can’t react. But that doesn’t mean that you let it happen. Or that you wanted it to happen.” Walter said softly. I nodded at the ground.

“Afterward he, he fell asleep and I showered, I had to get rid of the feeling of him. I slept on the couch, Well I tried to. The next morning he was came down and sat with all of us like nothing had happened. I had mentioned that my back had hurt the night before. And he moved closer to me and rubbed it for me. I couldn’t move. I didn’t react…again. I just. I don’t know. All I could think was, I didn’t wanna start anything. But I also couldn’t make sense of what happened. When he left I changed the sheets. I threw them away actually. My clothes were washed. But eventually I couldn’t look at them anymore. I threw them away too.”

“Why do you think it took you so long to say anything?” Walter asked me.

“I wasn’t even sure it happened. I wasn’t sure I could call it what it was. I mean he was drunk, I just… Just laid there. It took me over a week to tell my best friend. But It took almost 4 months after talking it out with her and one of my other friends for me to face it and call it what it was. But I still can’t say it.”

“And why are you here now? What made you report it?” He raised an eyebrow. I took a deep breath. This has been eating at me so long but. This month. This 2 year “anniversary.” If you could call it that. Has been terrorizing me.

“It’s all I could think about the last couple of weeks. I started having nightmares. Seeing him in my dreams. Before when I dreamt about it, I always got away. Someone always stopped him. But now. Now I’m trapped all overagain. It happened in my childhood home. In the room I grew up in. I’ve moved out since then. I live alone. He doesn’t even live in that town anymore. He lives 3 hours away from me. The chances that I’ll run into him are slim. And I don’t have any

reminders of it anymore. But Sometimes if I wake up and I’m laying next to the wall it sends me into a panic. If I see someone with a similar body type or with a similar voice it shut down. He’s over a 100 miles away. But I don’t feel safe. I’m losing my mind! I’m getting up to check the lock on the door like 10 times before I can go to sleep. What if he just walks in like he did then. He doesn’t even know where I live. But I’ve never confronted him. And he has a wife! And Kids. He did when he did this to me. I can’t get over that. She needs to know but … I don’t, I don’t know what to do! That’s why I’m here, I had another panic attack, I didn’t trust myself to drive. So I walked. ” I was in tears again. He must think I’m so weak. So stupid. What an idiotic thing to do.

“I understand, and first I want to say, I’m sorry that you went had to experience that. It’s a good you were able to tell your friends, but you were seemingly dealing with this alone for a long time. I’m sure that’s taken a toll on you. The next thing I need to ask you, is what you want to do now that you’ve told me.” I took in his words. He was right. This has been so heavy. And I’ve carried it alone for so long. But now that I’m here I never thought there would be options.

“What can we even do? It’s been so long?” I asked.

“Not too long though, if you want to press charges, and see him convited for this, that’s still on the table. If that’s what you want to do then yes, I do need you to write a witness statement. There will be a lot of other legal things that need to be done and signed. Then we can start an investigation. I know you think there isn’t anything here. But well do you trust me?” He asked. Did I? I didn’t know him. But Rachel seemed to. And he had his own office. That must mean he’s some high status detective right? And there was just something about him. Why did he feel so safe. It wasn’t the gun. It was. It was him. I did trust him.

“I do,” I spoke finally.

“I’ve put people away, on much less than what you’ve given me tonight.” He said. That felt good. To know he could lose everything. Like he made me lose my sense of security. But then my stomach dropped.

“W-would I have to see him?” I asked meekly.

“In court yes, possibly in a line up. But definitely in court. We would need your testimoney,”

“I- I don’t know if I can do that, I don’t know if I can face him.” I shook again.

“There will be officers in the court. You won’t be near him. He won’t be able to get to you.”

“Will you be there?” I asked suddenly.

“If you’d like, yes, I can be there.” He said giving me a soft smile.

“Can I think about it?” I asked meeting his eyes again.

“Of course,” He stood and walked back to the other side of his desk. “It’s been a long night emotionally for you, if you’re ready tomorrow to make a decision you can come back in the morning.” He said typing a something quickly on his computer. “If you’ll wait just a few minutes I can gladly give you a ride home. It’s far too cold for you to walk, even it’s a block away.” He offered. I nodded.

“Thank you, I appreciate that. It’s, well its actually 3 miles.” I stated biting my lip awkwardly. He let out a soft chuckle and smiled.

“Well, I surely can’t let you walk that far this late. I’ll get you home safe.” He said. He finished typing whatever it was he was doing on his computer. Then he locked the file in his desk. He stood and gestured for me to lead out of the office. He turned the light off and locked it behind him. Oh God I’d kept him after his shift.

“I’m sorry for keeping you,”

“Oh, no don’t appologize, this is common practice for me. This is honestly the earliest I’ve left in weeks.” He said as we walked back to the squadroom. He grabbed his coat from the desk chair. “Do you have everything?” He asked. I nodded.

He led us out of the station and to his truck in the parking lot. Once we were settled in, I gave him my address so he could drive me home. I watched out the window as he drove down the familiar streets. The drive was silent. The closer we got the more I got this sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. Back home. Back home to be alone again. I was so scared. What if he knew where I lived. I didn’t feel safe. It wasn’t long before the detective was pulling up in front of my building.

“Thank you,” I spoke breaking the silence for the first time since we’d left the police station.

“Of course,” He reached into his pocket pulling out a business card. “Take the night and decide what you’d like to do.” He said and then handed me the card. “That’s my cellphone number. If there’s anything else you need call…”

“Would you come in?” I cringed the second the words left my mouth.

“I, I can search the place, If you’d like. If it would make you more comfortable.” He offered.

“I mean, could you…” I can’t believe I was asking this, “Stay?” the word came out barely above a whisper. I sighed. I turned toward the window squeezing my eyes shut. “I’m sorry that was stupid, You probably have a wife, and a family to get home to. That was so inconsiderate. I just. I was afraid and I… I’ll just go.” I opened the door.

“You don’t feel safe, do you?” He asked. I paused and shook my head. I didn’t. I hadn’t for weeks. But I couldn’t ask this guy to give up his time for me.

“I don’t but, It’s okay. It’s just that there’s only one deadbolt lock on the door. And I don’t know sometimes that doesn’t feel like enough. And I can’t seem to get any sleep. But that’s not up to you. I have to figure this out. You’ve done so much to help me already detective.” I rambled. Walter let out a long breath.

“You’ve got a lot on your mind right now and a lot to consider.” He said. “I’m sure the lack of sleep isn’t helping at all, You could use a good nights rest.” He stated.

“But it’s not you’re responsibility and I don’t want to take you away from your family.” I said.

“I, well I live alone actually.” He bit his lip awkwardly “Why don’t you stay with me for the night? I’ve got some work to catch up on anyway. I probably won’t be getting much sleep. You wouldnt’t be putting me out.”

“Are you sure?” I asked raising an eyebrow. I’d given this poor guy enough trouble. And he was being so kind. Walter nodded. Honestly. The way I was feeling I didn’t have the energy to consider it any longer. I shut the door and walter put the truck in drive.

It was almost 2 am when we walked into his house.

“I can just sleep on the couch I, I really don’t want to be any trouble.”

“You aren’t,” He assured me. “And please, you can sleep in the bedroom, I rarely sleep there anyway. It’d be nice to know someones getting use out of it.” He smiled. I nodded and he showed me to the room and left me to get comfortable. He said he’d be down stairs likely working in his office if I needed anything. I took in the room everything seemed to be a dark navy color the comforter, the curtains the sheets. I chuckled to myself. That made sense for him.

I slipped off my shoes and slid under the covers. This should feel strange. And it did. But I was safe. And I hadn’t felt that way in a while. I let that feeling take over as I tried to fall asleep. But my mind started to wander again. What if he found out I reported it. What would happen. Or What would he do when they arrested him. What would he say about me. Would he say I wanted it. Tell them I didn’t push them away. Try to convince them that I was lying somehow? He was good at that. And he had a friend from college that was a lawyer. Surely he already had a story. Maybe he’d been prepared since it had happened. I started to shake again. I could feel my heart rate speeding up. I felt like I couldn’t breathe. I didn’t hear the footsteps up the stairs. I didn’t see him come in. I didn’t even realize that I’d started to cry again until I noticed he was next to me saying my name.

“Alayna. Alayna. It’s okay. You’re okay. Take a deep breath.” He soothed.

“I can’t, I can’t… what if he tries to come after me. What if.. What if he tells them… what if tries to tell them I wanted him to…I don’t think I can do this.” I sobbed. Walter wrapped an arm around my shoulder.

“He can’t get to you. We’ll be sure of that. All that matters, is that you’ve told us the truth. As long as you have, and as long as you confirm that in court. No matter what he says or what anyone believes, it won’t matter. I want to help you. I want you to feel safe again. I think the only way we can do that. Is to put this guy away. I’m not gonna stop until we do. I won’t let him hurt you again.” He said. Pulling me closer to him.

“Do you have a sister?” I asked after a brief pause sniffling softly.

“No,” He shook his head and leaning back against the headboard letting me rest my head against his shoulder. “But I have a daughter.” He said.

“Is that why you do what you do?” I asked. He smiled. But he was quite for a moment.

“Not at first. When I was younger and I first started out, it was just something that I liked. Something I was good at. But when my exwife and I had our daughter, a lot of that changed. It became personal. To an unhealthy point honestly.” He chuckled at himself. “I guess to my own detriment.”

“Is that why you’re still working even though you clocked out hours ago? You could use some good sleep too detective.” I stated. Starting to relax.

“I haven’t slept well in ages,” He said. “Focusing on the job, oddly enough, keeps my mind off everything else. There are some horrible people in this world. I don’t have to explain that to you. I get so in my own head about how, it could be her. If I spend anymore time considering the what ifs I’d keep her locked in a tower,” He chuckled.

“I understand that. But surely, If she was raised by you, she’s a smart girl. But.. well I guess,” I sighed. “Nevermind.” Walter squeezed my shoulder softly.

“Thank you, I know what you mean.” He smiled sympathetically.

“I’m going to do it.” I said suddenly. “Press charges, I mean. You’re right. Knowing can still get to me. Knowing he’s out there. That’s what’s causing me all this stress and …I can’t keep going on like this.” I stated.

“I can take you back to the station tomorrow.”

“Thank you,” I whispered. “Walter?” I asked nervously biting my lip.

“Yeah?”

“Will you stay here? I don’t know what it is I just feel.. Safer when you’re here.” I blushed softly. Walter adjusted so that he was lying on the bed. I moved and laid my head on the pillow.

“Get some sleep darling. I’ll be right here.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Okay that was part one❤️ let me know how you’re feeling about this guys!

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Part 2:

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