#oc: Tacka

[captainderyn]

I wasn’t gonna do this tonight cuz no inspiration but then @skullinacowboyhat responded to my story post about it and called Tacka the love of their life and single-handedly motivated me to do this 💚

(A redraw of an old Tacka piece from 2019)

#swtor #swtor fanart #mirialan #jedi knight #oc: Tacka #Hnnng tatted muscle avocado 🥑 #long hair Boi make brain go brrrr

[kingof2010]

I'm going to introduce you to my 5 Oc today, which is the full gang - the Warren Gang!

Warren Testaburger - A 10-year-old boy who is the leader of a gang. She loves her siblings - Wendy and George - with all her heart and also cares for her friends. He is responsible, prudent, and has a brave heart, fighting against the crime that is taking place.

Bradley Jones - He's a hunk and a joker. He is Warren's best friend, He also takes care of his complexion, but mainly of others. When someone is sad, he tries to cheer someone up. Sometimes he wears bandanas to fight.

Ricky Axel - Sometimes he goes his own way, feeling like a lonely, rebellious wolf, but he has a good heart and wants to follow the path of justice. So he also has an explosive temper that he knows how to control.

Nathan Daniels - is the twin brother of Nichole, he is sensitive but has a heart of gold and is always helping others. He tries to see the good in others. It's cultured and nice.

Carl Tackas - He's a genius, he's intelligent, he knows how to build things, his intelligence is on par with other geniuses, and especially two of the most intelligent beings in the universe. Although he is sometimes considered a mad genius, but in fact, his intelligence helps people.

These five help people every day and fight villains, just like the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, the Ninja team from Ninjago, the Penguins of Madagascar or the Danger Force.

Let me know what you think in the comments!

#Warren Testaburger #Bradley Jones #Ricky Axel #Nathan Daniels #Carl Tackas #South Park

[skullinacowboyhat]

@captainderyn them !!! 

#oc: qeeo #star wars #skullie's sketches #swtor #procreate #tacka #captainderyn #other peep's ocs #otp: lost and found #it's the way I will never be over them ever

[outdatedthoughts]

Death Cab for Cutie & Agnes Cecilia

– Någon gång 2007, svarade jag försiktigt, som om mitt värde hängde på rätt sifferföljd. Faktum är att det var i slutet på mars året därpå, men 2007 är för mig ett estetiskt vackrare årtal, i såväl artikulation som i skrift. Likt 2002, 2014, kanske 2022, bjuds en in till nyfikenhet och tolkning på ett sätt närliggande år har svårt till att göra.

Nåväl.

– Cure fan? – Up until this record – Oh really? You gonna tell me you don’t get chills everytime you hear the violin on ‘To Wish Impossible Things’? – Yeah, everytime, but I don’t remember the day. Like with Disintegration, I remember the very first time I heard that record, I remember everything about that day, the weather outside, the smell in the air, because that day I fell in love with something – You fell in love with an album – No, I fell in love with music Dialog mellan Peyton och hennes mor i One Tree Hill säsong tre. Jag uppfostrades på olika sätt under min uppväxt. Av min mor kom kärlek och moral, om än ibland på ett hårt och dömande vis. I musiken blev jag inkluderad och fann trygghet. Från OTH lärde jag mig att förstå, hantera och uttrycka tidigare outsägliga känslor. Peyton, emotjejen, var den karaktär jag identifierade mig mest med och som kunde beskriva det jag ofta oförklarligt kände. Hon var den ensamma, den sorgsna, den oförstådda, den med borderline. Det var dock i hennes musik och den beskrivande dialogen som fick mig bli ett med karaktären. Visst minns jag den regniga dagen i Kalmar jag köpte min första CD, Vapen & Ammunition, och hur jag tjafsade med min kusin den kvällen om hur textraderna i FF gick. Likt jag minns alla gånger jag satt på vardagsrumsgolvet intill stereon och sjöng med i Du & jag döden och Ett kolikbarns bekännelser ett par år senare. Men det var en vanlig vardagseftermiddag 2007 jag blev förälskad i musik. Far hade ett religiöst förhållande till The Beatles. Född '49 på tyska landsbygden kom han att bli rebell och flydde till London som tonåring i dröm om att, i sitt kontroversiella långa hår, träffa John Lennon och Paul McCartney. Han fick träffa Ringo Starr och åkte aldrig hem igen. Hos honom var Revolver, A Hard Day’s Night, Help och Sgt. Pepper’s det enda som spelades, snark. Min mor spelade på sin höjd Ted Gärdestad, någon hitlåt från Tom Jones och Shakira, så musikintresset fick jag forma på eget vis, på annat håll. Min kusin Tino hade till hög grad influerat den låtlista jag varsamt valde ut att fylla min iPod Nanos låga minnesutrymme med. Det var Blink-182, Breaking Benjamin, Jimmy Eat World och mycket från genren vi kallade för OC-musik; indiepop i allmänhet. Ihop startade vi även vår egna webbradio ‘OC-musik 24/7′ en afton och skickade IP-adressen till såväl vänner samt på forum. Drömmen om rullande radioproduktion dog förvisso redan följande dag när det relativt massiva lyssnarantalet tillkallade hot om stämning för illegal musikströmning. Men på de femton-sexton timmarna vi sände kom även supportande lyssnare med värdefulla musikrekommendationer. Death Cab for Cutie var nog bandet som önskades mest att spela, av vilka jag bara hade hört A Lack of Color sen innan. Ett par dagar senare kom jag för tidigt hem från skolan, något i bamba hade gjort mig ledsen och jag laddade ner Death Cabs senaste album Plans. Jag ville bara ha något att lyssna på för att fly undan verkligheten ett tag.

Jag hade så gärna för sakens skull berättat vad för doft jag kände och vad för väder det var just i det ögonblicket, men likt alla andra dagar var jag framför datorn med persiennerna nerdragna. Det förtar dock inte den massiva känslovåg som sköljde över mig redan från första tonen av introt till spår ett, Marching Bands of Manhattan och som varade till sista stycket av spår elva, Stable Song. Jag berördes, jag kände mig fulländad, sorgsen, lycklig och fri. Minnen, trauman, hopp och förtvivlan med tillhörande imaginära bilder jag än idag kan se framför mig till tonerna av låtarna. Känslor som då inte var direkt kopplade till texterna men i den hela surrealistiska upplevelsen. Även om Adam’s Song förblev på repeat varje promenad till skolan flera år framöver om morgnarna så kom Death Cab att ta över hela mitt musikbibliotek och bli en central del av mitt tonårsliv. Gudskelov lyckades jag förbereda mig emotionellt på deras kommande albumsläpp. Narrow Stairs (2008) sparade jag till första dagen av sommarlovet, med känslan av dess frihet i bilen till Öland. Codes & Keys (2011) ute på klipporna en varm sommarmorgon, med sjöbris mot ansiktet och god picknick. Kintsugi (2015) i min favoritpark i London och Thank You for Today (2018) deprimerad på ett okänt fält en bit från en ändhållplats vid gränsen till Halland. Death Cab blev också anledningen till att jag träffade Agnes. 2010 började jag på ett estetikfrämjande gymnasium och trots att jag gick på samhällslinjen så var det Broder Daniel-patches och indieenergi var du än gick. Min klass var relativt skonat från sånt därnt, jag kom överens med alla förutom en tjej, Cecilia, som av ren instinkt hatade den utåtagerande fotbollskillen jag framstod som. Med sin BD-väska och ibland stjärnor under ögonen fnös hon ofta i min närvaro. Hon drog sig inte från att uttrycka öppet hat mot min existens eller agg när hennes vänner pratade med mig. Två år senare var det mig hon vände sig till när hon skulle hoppa, men det är en annan historia. En gång var det bara var vi i klassrummet. Jag hyste vördnad över hennes t-shirt, på vilken hon hade blink-182s självbetitlande albumsmiley på. Vi snackade ett par minuter. Hon log faktiskt vid ett tillfälle och la senare till mig på msn. Under resterande tre år vi gick ihop skrev vi regelbundet någon kväll i veckan, ett par timmar åt gången. Resterande dagar var vår vänskap ickeexisterande, literally, i synnerhet under skoltid En vårdag i slutet på första läsåret ville hon introducera mig för en tjej som gick på estetlinjen. Agnes favoritband var tydligen också Death Cab, men det var unheard of att någon från estet skulle vilja prata med någon från samhäll, i synnerhet inte en fotbollskille som jag. Under en kvartsrast utanför biologisalen kom en jättesöt, två år äldre, fräknig tjej med vackert utsläppt brunt hår, fina läppar med ett tillhörande födelsemärke och frågade rart om mitt namn. Hon hade gul tröja med grön fjällrävenväska på ryggen, jeanskjol och knähöga strumpor, vita med röda ränder. Jag var ett förfall, fick knappt fram ett ord och det dröjde inte länge innan killarna i min klass snappade upp att det på riktigt var mig hon ville prata med. De började grabba sig, skrek dumma saker. Jag ursäktade mig därifrån. Vi fick dock kontakt på musikforum efter ett tag, vår första konversation gick ungefär: – Så hur kom du i kontakt med dem? – Från OC, någon gång 2007, tror jag. – Åh, då har du lyssnat längre än vad jag har gjort! Jag fann Death cab 2008 via en vän. Agnes kom att bli en otrolig viktig influens i mitt liv. Hon var den första personen som genuint visade intresse för mig och mitt liv. Vi pratade om kärlek, killar, tjejer, drama, s*x. Vi skapade spellistor och delade fotografier. Hon introducerade mig för tumblr och massvis med musik jag än idag lyssnar på. Till förfasa ville hon så småningom träffas utanför skoltid, på konserter och i stan. Jag var för awkward för att kunna tacka ja till någon form av social interaktion, kommunikation fick helst ske uteslutande online, det var tryggas så. Min självforcerande isolering var och är än idag otrolig påtaglig i dess skada och konsekvens, i utsträckning jag upplever folk har svårt att greppa. Jag tror faktiskt vi aldrig kom att se varandra efter hon tog studenten drygt ett år därpå, hon flyttade till annan ort och fick nya bekantskaper, vår kontakt dog ut. Vad för relation hon tyckte vi hade vet jag ärligt talat inte, jag är bara ledsen ��ver att jag inte tog tillvara på den bättre, oavsett vad det var. Jag ångrar att i min omogenhet och osäkerhet kunde vara dramatisk, provocerande samt ibland utmanande. Även om det är ett avslutat kapitel är jag så otroligt tacksam för hennes del i mitt liv, det formade mig mer än vad jag någonsin förstod då och gav lärdomar jag behövde. Något jag också var duktig på att undvika dcfc konserter

[captainderyn]

(Click for better quality)

@skullinacowboyhat got me in my Tacka and Qeeo feels with her art from a few days ago of the babes (*laments tumblr’s inability to let me link* go check it out!) and it’s been so long since I’ve drawn them that I just HAD to crack open procreate. And while I was originally going to do a badass battle couple scene...this post-wedding on Tython softness happened instead :’)

(Ironically the first piece I did with this concept was almost 2 years ago today on April 27th, 2019)

The process for this piece will also be posted over on my art instagram (@/captainderyn)

#captainderyn art #swtor #swtor fanart #star wars #nautolan #mirialan #otp: Lost and Found #other people’s ocs: Qeeo #oc: Tacka #y’all should’ve seen me doing this lighting HO BOY #it was definitely a trust the process lol #peep the wedding tattoos #AHH sweethearts the both of them #can we also appreciate that I actually drew that background fully from scratch like WOW #skullie plz i’m having feels

[captainderyn]

What does tacka love the most about qeeo?

Thank you for this ask! It got a bit lost in my notifs but here we are!

(Qeeo belongs to @skullinacowboyhat )

Honestly I think Tacka loves how much and how deeply Qeeo can love despite all she’s been though l. How she can get through the tough days and at the end of it still be able to allow herself to feel so deeply.

He admires her for much of the same reason—her strength is something he always aspires to one day find in himself but doesn’t think he’ll ever match.

And he always wants to be there to support her on the bad days and the good days, to offer a safe place for her to come home to, and to always have her back and be at her side in all aspects of the word partner.

#asks #swtor #oc: Tacka #other people’s ocs: Qeeo #otp: lost and found

[captainderyn]

What's your favorite fact about Tacka?

I believe my favorite fact about Tacka is that he and @skullinacowboyhat‘s Qeeo both met after trauma suffered in the Sixth Line on Ziost. They were both Jedi Knights but they’d never really interacted before then. And of course after the Sixth Line, as they were both suffering, is when they really met each other and began to get closer to each other. 

[Actually detailed in This Old Fic]

Second favorite fact is that Qeeo ad Tacka started out as friends before Skullie and I both starting shipping them on our own and didn’t bring up to each other until I tag-rambled about it xD 

#I answer things! #oc: Tacka #I miss the days when I was consistently writing oc/oc stuff for friends #and answering prompts regularly #I honestly fell out of it a bit between what happened with ~dela~ and college #but maybe I can start getting back into it eventually

[captainderyn]

hey @skullinacowboyhat I saw (and fell hard for) your pirate!Qeeo...I raise you: Spacer!Tacka ;D

#my art #swtor #swtor fanart #mirialan #oc: Tacka #akjhdaskjlghf oh no he's HOT #frick #his tats tho man that right arm is new tats and his chin tats are modified #he's got an earring and I kinda dig it #like I kinda dig this design #Tacka somehow always looks broodingly attractive whenever I draw him #really he's a dork #though here he's a cocky dork

[captainderyn]

76 for Tacka and Qeeo. BRING ON THE FLUFF :3

76. Top Of Head Kisses

I was going to write this but then I had this super cute n fluffy drawing idea tonight after this prompt has been sitting for months @skullinacowboyhat

#I answer things! #my art #I know these clothing designs aren't established #but I wanted to sketch so I took your description and ran with it ;-; #spot that doodled tattoo on Qeeo's finger yall #wedding band yes #doodled flat color sketch with gradient shading yes #oc: Tacka #other people's ocs: Qeeo #otp: Lost and Found

[captainderyn]

70 for Qeeo and Tacka IM SORRY

WHOO SADDLE UP BOIS ITS ANGST TIME

( @skullinacowboyhat I’msorry)

70.  “I’m not ready to say goodbye.”

tw: mentions of character death and grief

Dusk fell softly over Tython, faded purple clouds covering the sky and the beginnings of twinkling stars. Behind the cloud cover the sky was an ugly grey, not yet willing to give up its last remnants of blue to the inky blackness of night. 

The glowlamps cast the simple room in diluted yellows, the shadows dark and flickering against the walls. Phaedra knocked cautiously against the frame of the door. Her dark robes pooled around her feet, swept around her wrists as she raised her hand once again. “Tacka?” 

“I heard you the first time,” the mirialan sitting on the settee at the foot of the bed, didn’t look up. His dark hair was worn loose and long, a mane scattered with braids. “I’m still not going.” 

Phaedra leaned her cheek against the cool stone, pulling her lower lip between her teeth, silent. He had his jacket thrown to the side and he was wringing his hands together, rubbing a dark tattoo on his left ring finger incessantly. His dark shirtsleeves were rolled up to his elbows, baring his wrists, and she could see the open diamond tattoo on his wrist–struck through with a dark mark in a way it hadn’t always been. 

Her throat tightened, her eyes beginning to burn. “You have to….Tacka, please, they’re waiting for you. The Masters don’t want to start without you.” 

Golden eyes looked up at her, pained and red-rimmed. “I don’t want them to start.” 

Crossing the threshold into the room, Phaedra reached to rest a hand on Tacka’s shoulder. “I know. But it’s protocol…it’s better this way. At least…well.” 

At least they found her. There were many Jedi who couldn’t say the same. 

“I know,” Tacka hissed out a breath, ducking his head back down. “I know. But…I don’t want to be there. I’m not ready to say goodbye.” 

Unthinkingly Phaedra stepped over to Tacka, crushing him against her in as best a hug she could with him sitting. For a moment he froze before in one crushingly painful breath his arms went around her waist, his face pressed into her robes. One of her hands cupped his head, the other wrapped tightly around his shoulders. “I’m so sorry Tacka. The two of you didn’t deserve this.” 

They’d known what they were getting into with that mission–that was the justification she had heard all around the Temple. Such detriment wouldn’t come to Tacka’s person if they’d never become attached. A textbook example of why the Jedi preached breaking attachments to serve their greater good. 

To Phaedra it was cruel; for his grief for the loss of a best friend, a lover, a partner, to be spat on in such a way. 

To Tacka, it was the same vitriol he’d faced after Ziost...with no one to weather it with. 

“One way or another, I’m going to have to go?” Tacka ground out from the folds of her robes. She stroked a hand over his hair, nodding though he couldn’t see it. 

“That would be best.” 

He pulled away with a curt nod, scrubbing the heels of his palms under his eyes, across his cheeks. There was a near imperceptible tremor in his hands when he balled his jacket into his fists, his sense in the Force shot through with grief, pulsing with hurt. “Fine...alright.” 

When he stood, though he was taller than her by several measurements, he seemed small, his shoulders hunched. Phaedra nodded, turning on her heel and taking purposeful steps towards the door, pressing her thumb under her eyes as she walked. 

His footsteps didn’t follow and she looked over her shoulder. He was still standing, now in the middle of the room; his jacket hung loosely in his hands like he’d been considering putting it on, his eyes going unfocused and unseeing. 

There was a whisper in the Force around them, a familiar presence. The living Force seemed to gather around Tacka, drawing the presence with it. He bowed his eyes, a choked noise keening from his throat.

Phaedra pressed the back of her hand against her throat to muffle a cry of her own--in a flickering manifestation of the energy around them a faint nautolan figure reached for Tacka, wrapping her arms around his middle and pressing her face between his shoulder blades. 

His hand rested over where hers met--meeting nothing but the fabric of his own shirt, yet something silent seemed to be passing between the living and non. 

Though she couldn’t hear his words, she saw him mouth. “I don’t want to say goodbye. Please.” 

Long after the ghostly figure had faded, Tacka stood, with his head bowed, and his hand clasped over where Qeeo’s had rested on his chest. 

#I answer things! #my writing #swtor #nautolan #mirialan #tw: character death #kinda #oc: Tacka #other people's ocs: Qeeo #otp: Lost and Found #this hurt my soul to write #I think we need to bring back #lettackanadqeeobehappy2l19 #im sorry Skullie please dont take them away from me #it makes it better (worse) if you listen to the Cinematic Orchestra's To Build A Home #figures the first thing I write in eons is this fucking sadness

[captainderyn]

So in testing out a new art program (which I hate) I made a crappy edit of Tacka over Tacka’s face claim...Willy Cartier (or at least I think it’s Willy Cartier, pintrest was a little vague with this image in particular) 

Doesn’t matter he still a piping hot boi

#swtor #my art #swtor edit #mirialan #oc: Tacka #look even though the art program makes me want to put my first through a wall I do love Tacka #and it's been too long since I've done any sort of simple editing like this

[captainderyn]

Hey @skullinacowboyhat...

....Sith Tacka...do we need to put him back?

(Music Inspo: Vengeance--Zack Hemsey | See What I've Become --Zack Hemsey)

#my art #swtor #mirialan #sith #sith au #oc: Tacka #me while drawing this: he'll just look badass and we'll roll with it #me while finishing this piece: OH SHOOT HE'S HOT #HE WASN'T SUPPOSED TO BE HOTTER #mistakes have been made #I don't wanna put him back he's too dang pretty as a sith #this is what happens when you let Wren get her hands on Tacka #she makes him hotter #by fashion and sith intensity #why yes he does have new forearm tats #why? because why not #Sith Aesthetic

[captainderyn]

22 for Qeeo and Tacka perhaps? :>

Don’t mind if I do :’D @skullinacowboyhat I’ve missed them

22. An interrupted kiss by none other than my muse’s pet

Morning bloomed softly on Tython--with the golden sunlight filtering in through high reaching windows and the soft sounds of running water filtering in through their open glass. It was later than usual for Tacka to wake up, dawn had already come and gone when usually he was up with the sun. 

But it had been a rough night of nightmares--for he and Qeeo both. The hours of darkness had been long but eventually they had settled; Qeeo was still tucked by his side, head nestled on his shoulder and arm thrown across his chest in a way that suggested he best not consider moving any time soon. 

Not that he minded or would ever complain. There were worse fates to be consigned to. 

Breathing out a soft breath he turned his head to look at Qeeo, smiling softly at the peacefulness on her face in sleep. Unable to help it he shifted, pressing an equally soft kiss to her forehead. 

She shifted, snuggling closer and pressing her face more tightly to his shoulder. “Is it morning already?” she mumbled. 

“It doesn’t have to be.” Qeeo groaned at that. 

“That means it is.” she lifted her head, dark eyes blinking sleepily even as she just shifted so she could prop her forearms across his chest, resting her chin on them. “It came too quickly.” 

“Good morning to you too.” Tacka chuckled, cupping her chin to draw her in for a quick and gentle kiss. “Did you sleep better?” 

“Mm, better..” she didn’t sound fully convinced but he let it go when she caught him in another kiss, this one just as gentle bit lingering; savoring the moments of peace. 

As if summoned by the stirring of their presences in the Force, or perhaps by the slight rustle of the covers around them there was a clicking of talons on the floor and before Tacka or Qeeo could react Taui was shouldering their door open, taking a bounding leap onto their bed, 

The Mooka unceremoniously slid into them as he slipped on the covers, nearly squishing Qeeo and nearly pushing Tacka off the bed with the force of his beak-nuzzling, feathery-tail wagging enthusiasm. They broke apart, scrambling to right themselves and not end up in a tangle of blankets on the floor. 

“Taui!” Qeeo yelped, burying her hands in the brilliant ruff of the Mooka’s chest, spluttering as he continued to nuzzle and lick at her. “Alright, alright, good morning!” 

Taui barked at that, tail wagging harder as he turned and leaped off the bed, dancing by the door of their room that he had barged through. Tacka shook his head, laughing and swung his feet to the floor, running a hand through his mane of hair. “So much for a quiet morning.” 

Qeeo threw a hand over her face, shaking with laughter as well. “It was nice for the...all of five minutes it lasted.” 

#my writing #I answer things! #hi have i mentioned I love them #mirialan #nautolan #sixth line jedi #swtor jedi #oc: Tacka #other people's ocs: Qeeo #otp: Lost and Found #its been TOO LONG since I've written them and I have So Many ideas

[captainderyn]

So I’ve seen this swtor-doll-clothes-thing going around and it looks fun...and while most folks have a full-body thing going on I don’t have the spoons to do that so here’s half a Tacka?

I dunno guys, do with him what you will, if y’all do this just tag me and don’t remove my watermark please. If not...well here’s a shirtless boi for you all. 

#swtor #my art #swtordolls #swtor dolls #I dunno what the tag is #mirialan #oc: Tacka

[captainderyn]

The Color of Reunion

pssttt @skullinacowboyhat *pokes* I heard it was your birthday! Can’t let that go unacknowledged! I was going to draw something but alas after a move my tablet is still not back up to working function, so I did the next best thing that I am (arguably better at) able to do: writing our babs! I hope you have an amazing day~

No one had told Qeeo what to expect when she walked into the Council chambers, speed walking through the hallways with their arching, airy ceilings because they had only just told her that she needed to be there. It wasn’t uncommon for her to be called into meetings, but usually they had the courtesy to notify her more than a few minutes before it was set to start when she was all the way across the Temple.

Even walking as quickly as her legs would take her--running when she knew she wouldn’t be caught by the Masters, even if the idea worrying over their disapproval was laughable, she wasn’t under their jurisdiction anymore--the doors were already closed by the time she slid to a halt in front of them, slightly breathless. She cursed softly, frowning up at the door and shifting back and forth. On one hand she had been requested to show up, she didn’t have much a choice on whether she wanted to disrupt the meeting by pushing open the door. But on the other hand she knew the heavy doors that were taller than her would instantly draw attention to her tardiness, she knew that the left door always squeaked on its hinges and knew that it would pause the conversation. She knew it but it still didn’t give her much a choice.

Gritting her teeth she grabbed the handles and pulled the doors open incrementally, wincing each time the hinges squaked their protest. When it was just wide enough for her to wiggle through, turning herself sideways and shimmying through, she took it and eased the doors closed behind her. The voices behind her didn’t cease and she bit back at apology that she had almost said aloud without thinking. She turned, she could just skirt along the edge of the chamber to steal one of the empty chairs along the edge without causing to much trouble.  Then she stopped, turned, and let out a soft gasp only privy to her own ears.

Tacka was pacing in front of the council, one hand bent and pressed against the small of his back like he had been attempting something near the easy rest that many Jedi presented while his other hand animated cut through the air, emphasizing words that were husky in a voice that sounded like it had been abused. It was a strange feeling, seeing him only paces from her but not being able to feel him alongside her in the Force, even now the barriers he had put up were holding strong. A few of the master’s eyes drifted towards her and Tacka followed, glancing over his shoulder mid sentence. His words stuttered before picking up again and he cleared his throat, repeating what he had lost and finishing his thought all while his eyes didn’t leave hers.

His hair was tied in a messy knot at the back of his neck, there was a rare scruff dark along his cheeks and jaw. She couldn’t go over to him, not under the eyes of the Masters who already grumbled and muttered whenever they walked Tython’s paths hand in hand but she smiled at him, relief pulsing through her that he was there and he was standing on his own two feet. Months apart, imagining what it would be like when they saw each other once more and it all passed with just a smile, returned by him in full. She snuck into one of the chairs in the room, tucking her legs up under her into a more comfortable position when the Masters weren’t listening and leaned her cheek on her hand, watching Tacka resume his pacing and listening to the cadence of his voice that was as familiar as her own.

Tacka’s arms went around her waist, warm and achingly familiar. Her hands traced their way up his jaw, pulling him to her and he relaxed into her touch. The kiss they shared was a cumulation of lonely nights and terrified days, insistent and needy. His hair came loose easily from its tie when she played with it and she tangled her fingers in the tangled strands. He needed to brush it, was the first giddy thought to coherently push its way into her mind.

Even when he pulled back he still rested his forehead against hers. “I’ve missed you.” he whispered, breathless.  That seemed a glorious understatement, if these past months had been anything like it was for her. Subconsciously she reached for him in the Force, needing to know if he was truly as alright as he seemed and ran headlong into a mental wall.

“I’ve missed you is one way to put it.” She parroted with a soft laugh even as Tacka breathed out a soft and weary sigh. Slowly she became more aware of him, the tiredness that permeated around him, the subtle pains that afflicted him. He was dismantling the walls he had put up, laying blocks aside carefully instead of tearing it all down and she dove back into the bond that twined them together, wrapping herself in the familiarity of him after only feeling him in bursts of frustration, of fear and of pain.

Even with his care fully opening their bond nearly buckled her knees out from under her, the intensity of feeling through the Force after such a long period of serenity overwhelming.

“You’re alright, right?” She forced herself to step back, reluctantly, looking at Tacka with a critical eye. He offered her another of his half smiles that didn’t reach his eyes before.

“I’m fine.” he assured. He ducked his head and his voice dropped, almost as an afterthought. “I’m fine.”

She wanted to get out of the Temple, away from everyone else and the chaos around them that was threatening to tear them apart again at any moment. “Are you finished with debriefing?”

“I gave my account, if they need me anymore it won’t be today.” he looked at her pleadingly. “Can we go somewhere else? Please? Just..away?”

Tython’s lakes shone in the sinking sun’s light, small waves lapping rhythmically at their shores and the willow trees that overhang them draped their tendrils into the water, swaying gently. The bark of one of the willow trees was smooth against her back as she leaned against it, Tacka’s head heavy in her lap. Her fingers combed through his hair, pulling apart tangles and braiding and unbraiding stands. For a long time the lapping of the water and the sigh of the breeze through the trees was the only noise between them and she wondered if Tacka had drifted off until he finally breathed a raspy breath.

He relived the past few months to her in short, scattered bursts, waning into silence at some parts and she it stand. Finally he broke off completely, rolling so he could push his lanky frame onto his elbows. “Fighting without you as my partner was one of the strangest things.” He murmured, still lost in his own thoughts.

Qeeo tilted her head, headtails spilling over her shoulder. A joking remark was on the tip of her tongue but she looked at the dark smudges under his eyes, the sore way which he still moved and hesitated, softening instead. “I’m glad your home.” she said instead.

He looked around at Tython around them. “Home?” he echoed, looking at her with a curious expression. “Is that Tython?”

She didn’t want to tease him, she really shouldn’t all things considering. But she couldn’t help narrowing her eyes and asking, “I don’t know, is it?”

It was never a good idea to challenge Tacka like that, he always seemed to have some quipping response that would leave her fuming about not having a come back right away. Even exhausted as he was he still managed a grin. “Home is wherever you are.” and propped himself a little higher on his elbows and pressed a ghosting kiss to the corner of her mouth, where she could feel the remnants of his smile.

That knocked her more speechless than any of his quips and the only thing she could think to do was turn her head and catch his lips with hers.

#my writing #swtor #swtor jedi knight #sixth line jedi #oc: Tacka #other people's ocs: Qeeo #otp: Lost and Found #this is short and kinda meh but time is crunched and I NEEDED to do something #also I didn't realize you were only like a bit younger than I am omg a fellow younging #(I swear Im 18 even if I look 14 lmao) #anyways I hope you birthday is lovely fren <3

[captainderyn]

Annnd a close up of his face because...well I actually like how it turned out

#my art #swtor #mirialan #oc: Tacka #his haiiirr my dudes