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#mainly I wanted to draw thick trooper thighs
frostbitebakery · 2 years
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“— And then you stir the sugar with the jogan juice and one teaspoon of extract. Drizzle the sugar icing before slicing to serve.”
“Sounds delicious, Sir,” Cody replied warmly, silently sliding the new power pack into his blaster.
“I can’t thank you enough, Cody,” Obi-Wan said, sounds of mixing batter in the background coming to a stop for a moment. “I’m sorry I ruined your quiet evening. I shouldn’t have troubled you in the first place.”
Cody dodged around a shipping container, daring the plastic bag full of icing sugar to make a sound and give his position away. “You’re no trouble, Sir,” he assured and huffed out a quiet laugh at the murmured “I’ve heard differently” before moving to the next cover. “As long as I get my promised cake slice, it’s all good.”
“You’re too good to me, Commander.” The mixing started up again. “When will you arrive at the Temple?”
“ETA 30 minutes, Sir,” Cody replied absently, rolling his shoulders in preparation as he stepped out of the shadows and into the thugs’ view. “See you soon, General.” He switched off the comm and turned his attention back to the advancing bandits. “I had to take this call. Where were we?”
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creative-frequency · 4 years
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Inquisitor!Cal Kestis x Reader: Free Time
Word count: 1564 Pairing: Inquisitor!Cal Kestis x Reader Notes: I had a mighty need for inquisitor Cal, asked what kind of scenarios would you guys like to read and here we go.
My Writing Masterlist
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He is always training.
Alone.
You don’t know much about this new Inquisitor who some call unofficially the Eleventh Brother. There would be plenty enough numbers available among the first ten. Some even whisper that he is the next Grand Inquisitor. He doesn’t look that special to you, but you don’t want to go close enough to get a better look.
With the way he handles the red lightsaber, it’s clear that he is no stranger to the weapon. After a few sparring matches, the Purge Troopers quickly learned to avoid him in training spaces. Everyone gives him a wide berth.
Former Jedi Cal Kestis is always training because when he isn’t, he can hear his own thoughts, screaming inside his head. There is no one to talk to, no one to drown the thoughts with. The other Inquisitors barely treat him as equal, most often settling for avoidance. The feeling is mutual.
Cal feels the yearning for companionship, but there is none he can trust now. None who would comfort or encourage him. Getting physically exhausted and falling into dreamless sleep makes his new life somewhat more bearable. There is no light in his existence now. Just aimless darkness where he wanders, trying to hold his head above the surface. He is just surviving.
Attending to your duties at the Fortress Inquisitorius, you have no time to stare at the new Inquisitor, as handsome as he may be. He is swinging the double-bladed lightsaber in a speed that makes you dizzy. You don’t like the way the Second Sister looks at him, like a trophy from a hunt. It makes you feel sick but there is nothing you can do, especially show your disgust.
Nur wouldn’t have been your first choice, but one can’t exactly say no to a direct order. So you just focus on the job and hope that a new order will come soon.
It’s been two years.
Working in maintenance isn’t the most exciting career under the rule of the Galactic Empire. At least you don’t have to torture or murder anyone, only look the other way when someone else does. Things like that tend to numb people. You’re not proud of it. You’re just surviving.
Most of your coworkers are droids. Sometimes you hear people joking that you’re leading an army of your own. You tend to avoid the Troopers and especially the Inquisitors. Keeping a low profile is not just the best tactic to stay alive on the planet, it’s a necessity.
With a job that mainly requires only hands, you have too much time to think and wait for the comlink to spark into life.
“Requiring maintenance on residential level. Over.”
An everyday occurrence. You sigh. “What seems to be the problem? Over.”
“Another blasted lock. Apartment 2-5-7-K. Over.”
Gripping the comlink, you bite your lip. Shit. Anything over 250 means it’s an Inquisitor’s door. You’d best hurry.
“I’m on my way. Over.”
A blasted lock. You wonder what the reason is this time. What Trooper was stupid enough to draw a weapon in the hallways? They probably paid for the insolence with their life. Maybe there was a skirmish with one of the prisoners or someone tried to escape. Wouldn’t be the first time. You try to think of something else.
The hallway is fortunately empty so you speed walk to the right door. 257K. After a short inspection it seems that the lock is not actually broken, the door just needs some basic maintenance. The room hasn’t been in use for a long time but apparently someone has moved in recently. You make a mental note to bump it higher up on the priority list and to make sure a droid is taking care of it.
“It just needs adjustment, right?”
A scream almost flees you and you drop the servodriver.
The red-head Inquisitor stands next to you, slightly crouched to see better what you’re doing. You didn’t hear anyone approaching.
“Would’ve fixed it myself if I had the tools,” he continues, ignoring your almost heart attack.
“I’m sorry! This’ll be ready in a minute,” you say hastily and try not to look at the freckles on his face.
The Inquisitor’s brows crease closer together when you don’t look him in the eye.
“Okay,” he simply replies and leans against the wall, arms folding on his chest and looking like he isn’t going anywhere soon. If anything, he seems to enjoy watching you panic. A light smirk on his face and all.
You feel the eyes on your back as you work as fast as you can, checking and testing the connectors. Some of them need to be changed soon and that requires another order of spare parts. You just love paperwork and spending the Empire’s credits.
“Can you take a look at the AC inside? It’s been acting up.”
The servodriver almost falls from your grip again. You turn around to bow your head to the Inquisitor. Your eyes are obstinately drawn to the lightsaber resting against his thigh. “Of course, sir.”
The constant feeling of “I hope he doesn’t kill me” in your gut makes your hands shake but somehow you manage to make sure the lock works again. The Inquisitor still leans on the wall, looking like he has all the time in the world to just hang out. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him outside the dojo.
“There. Is it okay if I go in to check the AC now?” You don’t want to look him in the eye and with your every cell hope that he will leave now and let you work in peace.
Not a chance.
He shows you inside and stays hovering nearby as you try to calm yourself enough to work. He can’t seem to take his eyes off you. Something about you, watching you is… itching him.
“The thermostat seems to be broken, sir.” You dare a peek at the Inquisitor. He doesn’t seem as intimidating as the others and is actually younger than you initially thought. “I’ll need to go fetch some parts but I’ll set a static room temperature for now.”
“Okay.” He runs his hand through his ginger hair and sighs. “Can’t you just make a droid bring the parts?”
You blanch. “Uh, yes. Of course, I just thought it’d be faster if… I go… myself…” Your voice trails off under the cryptically meaningful look in his eyes.
Cal examines you, circling around in a slow, lazy arc. He has noticed you before even though you actively make every effort to not stand out. He felt something spark inside him in the hallway and he needs a moment to realize it’s curiosity that brings life to his dull existence. The feeling has some exhilarating new shades and he wonders is it because you look like a cornered animal, shaking in fear.
It excites him.
“Sir?” you squeak and can’t form the follow up question because Cal takes a step towards you.
“Who are you?” he asks slowly, gaze trained onto your face, eyes boring holes into your mind. His pulse is quickened like in the thick of a combat and he cannot understand why.
“Um, I’m not sure I– I’m just a technician. I’ve got clearance, y-you see… I can show you my ID…” you stutter and fumble a hand into your chest pocket to fish out the ID card. “See?”
Cal doesn’t even spare a glance at it.
“Yeah. I’m not interested in that,” he says coolly. He stands close enough to either strangle or hug you – though you know he wouldn’t need to get close and personal to kill you. You’re starting to panic.
“Sorry…” you peep, “Can I…”
Go?
You can’t finish the sentence because the Inquisitor leans forward and plants a gloved hand against the wall over your shoulder – a predator enjoying one last sniff of his prey before the killing blow.
All of your jittering ends and you completely freeze. The whimper that escapes your lips doesn’t sound like you at all. He has so many freckles and the feeling they enact in you acts as the perfect opposite to what their owner is doing. As good-looking as he may be, getting within a kissing distance to the Inquisitor wasn’t on your bucket list.
However, while you’re waiting perfectly still – in spite of your racing heart – for his next move, Cal hesitates. The excitement that spurred him into taking the initiative is gaining an altogether different tone. He is suddenly nervous and has to ball his hand into a fist to stop it from shaking.
You stare at each other, mere inches away and lightly gasp for breaths. The menacing Inquisitor aura is gone and you curse him for toying with you like that since there’s no way you can forget this ever happened. For a fleeting moment, you think should you just kiss him and be done with it – and gamble your life on his goodwill.
Cal finally loses his nerve and leaves without so much as a word or a glance at your direction.
You wait for a few stunned breaths to hear if he is coming back after the fateful sizzle of the door. Your head is positively spinning by the time you make it out alive from the quarters of Inquisitor Cal Kestis.
You hope nothing breaks in his room again.
//
Part 2
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