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whirlybirbs · 4 years

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okay but how would grim be around someone he really fancies like this man needs to be in a relationship

--- NOT INTERESTED ;

a/n: i’ve written about grim + nurse!reader and here’s some good ol’ angst for a nice “i have feelings for you but can’t” arc. anyways, i love these two. grim is my clone trooper oc, a part of talon squadron! click here to read more about the boys!pairing: grim x nurse!readerwarnings: angst, baby!

Ah, fuck.

You’re standing there, data-pad balanced on your hip as you count through the supplies rolling off the last transport of the evening. The tarmac is bathed in the orange hues of the Felucia sunset. Overhead, the fauna bounds about -- winged creatures swoop to eat that bugs that are arguably far too large for Grim to be comfortable.

He hates this fucking planet.

All of Talon does.

They’ve been here for three deployments now. The Outer Rim Sieges have scattered the Grand Army of the Republic across this end of the star system -- and the 111th Battalion, along with the sparse relief forces of the 104th and some of the 212th, was the one lucky enough to get stuck on this damn fungal field for the third time since the war’s start.

Even the General, who took a nasty hit on their first go on Felucia, is uncomfortable here -- her usual unwavering composure sure does waver here. Ru’kali, her padawan, even seems unsettled.

The humidity doesn’t help.

Grim sighs, arms crossed. Ignoring the loud buzzing of the native insects -- that are bigger than his fucking head, mind you -- he turns back to watching you direct the medical supply transport.

Your brows are knotted in concentration, gloved finger bopping in the air as you nail the numbers. Grim can see your lips, half-way pulled in a pout, move as you count -- you’re hardly aware that your CMO is staring.

He’s not the only one.

Beside him, leaned against the mobile barrack station, is Shade.

The sniper’s eyes narrow critically, fleeting between the stiffness in Grim’s posture and the center of his attention. One scarred brow climbs his face, curiosity dowsing his features. Shade fiddles with his helmet’s comm antenna as he speaks.

“What’s goin’ on with that?”

Grim flinches.

Honey brown eyes narrow sharply on his brother. Grim’s mouth pulls into a scowl, the tattoos there making the look seem more menacing than it really is. “Th’ hell do y’ mean?”

Shade juts his jaw your way. The sniper eyes the medic. “You’re staring.”

“So?”

“Mhm,” Shade snickers, “Okay, vod.”

“Ne'johaa [Shut up],” Grim mutters, rolling his jaw and carding his gloved hand through the mess of inky hair on his head, “S’ nothin’.”

“Don’t seem it.”

“Yeah, well,” Grim bites bitterly, arms crossed tight across his armored chest, “She’s not interested.”

That -- That wasn’t entirely true. But, it sure was how Grim interpreted it. In reality, you’d expressed concern. After all, he was your Chief Medical Officer. And you were civilian medical personnel. If anyone caught on... It didn’t look good. For either of you. The GAR had strict policies surrounding fraternization between ranks. Not to mention, between civvies and their ‘property’.

Word travels fast. You’ve known three nurses in the last month that were discharged thanks to interpersonal relations with troopers. The troopers themselves had received disciplinary strikes on their records.

One of them, an ARC Trooper, had been demoted.

Fucking hell. Forget losing your job. Seeing Grim lose his position as the Battalion’s CMO would kill you. He’s worked hard -- harder than anyone -- and despite his hatred for authority, he’d managed to work his way to the top. He earned the title. He deserves it.

He might not say it, but he’s proud of the title.

The conversation didn’t go well -- you’d only wanted to talk out the potential repercussions and your growing fears and the fact that sleeping together, despite it being much more than that, was very much against protocol.

You’d both walked away feeling hurt and lonely and lost. Grim had holed it all up inside, ignored the hurt, and despite the fact that it was literally all he could fucking think about, acted as if things were how they used to be.

Before the flirting. Before drunk snogging in 79′s. Before the sobering confessions in the medbay’s supply closet. Before the creeping sensation of love in his chest, and before he’d finally let himself wade into the feelings.

Grim feels like a fucking stranger.

Shade sighs -- a soft exhale that’s both gentle and annoyed. The sniper shifts in his spot on the barrack deck. His brother is stubborn and bullheaded and...

Hurt.

Shade and Grim were close. Arguably the closest of the Squad, aside from Lucky and Spades. The two were wildly different -- Grim was bombastic and Shade was grounded. They evened one another out. Hearing about the heartbreak hadn’t exactly shocked Shade; but Grim’s reaction sure did. He’d never seen his vod so broken up about anything before.

The sniper can see all that hurt swell back across his face when you approach, datapad in hands.

You speak quickly, eyes dodging the medic in-front of you. You’d once been a personality the Squad knew well -- kind and witty, keeping a certain medic in check. Now, you’re a mere ghost around the others.

You try to maintain some sort of facade. But it cracks.

“Final count is about 17 supply containers,” you relay, offering the datapad to Grim for a signature, “Just need you to okay the transfer.”

“ -- About 17?”

The question strikes you in the chest. It’s got a pointed edge to it. Your face grows hot; your chew the inside of your lip. Grim isn’t even looking at you, focus turned to the log.

There was a time, the first time on this planet, that you’d both been thick as thieves. Now, you can hardly stand the man before you.

“One container was damaged on the ride over,” you says coldly, swallowing down your sudden solar flare of anger, “Bacta IV bags inside were compromised. 96% was salvaged. So, yes. About 17.”

He just nods, signs the datapad and hands it back. That’s it.

No thank you, or good job, or... anything.

You stand there for a second. Hurt flies across your face so fast, Shade nearly misses it. Grim waits, eyes raising at the fact you’re still here. You look like you’re about to say something -- and Shade wonders suddenly if he should leave. But, then the sniper notices the glimmer of frustration in your eyes.

Oh.

“...Do you need something, nurse?”

Shade could strangle Grim.

“Get some shut eye,” the sniper speaks up; it’s soft and gentle and warm and you realize quickly that it’s his form of an apology -- the scar across Shade’s face warps in concern, “We’ve gotta long haul ahead of us.”

You nod.

Grim tightens his jaw.

“Thank you,” you breathe. The kindness settles your thrumming heartbeat.

Grim watches you leave. The moment your back turns, the cold look melts -- the emotions swirling across the medic’s face is forlorn and lonely, heartbroken and full of regret. Shade sighs, again, and stands.

“Keep treatin’ her like that,” the sniper bites, “And I can get why.”

Fuck.

Grim hates the fuckin’ planet.

#hhehehehhehehe #talon squadron #grim #clone trooper oc x reader #star wars imagine #not interested

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ergomaria · 4 years

Text

The Past is Gone (but something might be found) Preview Pt. III

Somehow, the text from the original post was deleted when I tried to edit the tags to make this easier to sort. I’ve restored it. Once again, I’m just posting this as a reminder that I’m alive and still trying to write!

PLOT: Vann, Meetra, and Carth touch the wrong thing at the wrong shrine and are turned into themselves at 18. Alek finds himself paying his penance to the Force when he has to simultaneously watch over the trio while trying to figure out how to restore them to their proper ages.

Now saddled with three teenagers and very few clues, Alek nodded in acquiescence as he trudged back towards the Hawk. Luckily, they were all fairly well behaved during the walk. Once they reached the ship the real fun began.

“So, do any of you know the codes to get back on the ship?”

There was a long bout of uncomfortable silence during which it became clear that no adult knowledge about the freighter had stuck with the teens. The worst part was that Alek did know the codes but couldn’t admit that fact without seeming suspicious. The next best option was to rewire the door panel and go from there.

“Alright, here’s a better question. Do any of you know how to rewire a hatch?”

Predictably, it was Deran who raised his hand. “Obviously I can, at least if I have the correct tools. Unfortunately, I don’t have my normal gear…”

The amount of places that Vann had broken into or out of during his search for the Star Forge still grated on Alek’s nerves. He knew for a fact there was a multitool tucked somewhere in that worn black jacket, but it was yet another fact he couldn’t openly share. “This might sound absurd, but everyone check your pockets. If your clothing originally belonged to spacers, and it looks like it did, the original owners may have left something useful behind.”

It was a risky gamble since there was always a chance that one of them had identifying documents on their person. But Alek was hoping they’d left those behind to perform a mission as covert as hiding a highly dangerous Sith holocron. Onasi’s civilian clothing was the best indicator that this might be the case. For once the Force was on his side and the search produced nothing but various odds and ends. An extra reload for the blasters, a few credits, a ration bar, a medpac, and finally a multitool that Vann had definitely purchased illegally.

Deran was predictably pleased to find the item and immediately set to work rewiring the door to his own ship. Meanwhile, Alek quietly filed that irony away for later. When the exit ramp slid open with a smooth hiss, Onasi practically cracked a tooth in his desperate attempt to not look impressed.

The inside of the Hawk was in partial disarray, though it was hard to tell if this was from whatever had transpired to turn three adults into teenagers or the mere fact that it was Vann’s ship and thus naturally full of clutter. Either way, the mess made it easier for Alek to order the teens to remain in the main hold where it was neater and theoretically ‘safer’ while he ‘checked’ the rest of the freighter. As soon as he was sure they would stay put, he moved into the cockpit to look for further clues.

Despite his tendency towards random piles of mechanical parts, Vann was absolutely fastidious when it came to researching locations and making notes about what he discovered. Before the original trip to Dromund Kaas he’d compiled an entire datapad full of files on the history of Sith purebloods, their laws, and their customs. While Nirauan had significantly less information recorded, there was still a pad with multiple paragraphs discussing the planet’s connection to both the Rakata Infinite Empire and the Force itself. It seemed that the crew was aiming to land near a series of suspected Rakata ruins that had a notable presence.

Datapad in hand, Alek peeked into the main hold to inform his charges of his next step. “Just so you’re aware, I think I found a series notes mentioning that this planet has a strange connection to the Force. I don’t know if it has anything to do with your current situation, but we can’t rule it out. I have a friend who might be able to untangle the few clues we currently have, so I’m going to comm her using the ship’s unit. Just wait here until I’m done.”

“Is she a Jedi?” Meetra was sprawled across two seats looking dangerously bored.

“She was at one time, but she’s since left the Order. However, she’s very knowledge about certain subjects and I feel that her input will be extremely helpful.” One of the subjects she had a great deal of experience with was being a Force prodigy and another was ancient artifacts from the Infinite Empire, currently making her the galaxy’s only authority on the situation. When there were no further questions, Alek hurried away to contact Rakata Base in the hope of begging Bastila for assistance.

“Vann?” The young woman’s face immediately darkened when she saw who was on the other end of the call. “Why are you there and where is Vann?”

“I’m here because Meetra contacted me when there was a complication with their current mission,” Alek hissed as quietly as possible. Noting the concern that immediately overtook Bastila’s face he assured her, “Everyone is healthy. I hesitate to say ‘fine’ because, well… Somehow, through a combination of some Rakta ruins and a Sith holocron, all three members of this crew are currently teenagers with no memories of their adult selves. I’d estimate them between seventeen and nineteen, if I had to guess.”

The incredulous glare was absolutely scathing. “You’ve picked a poor time to develop a sense of humor.”

“Why in Sith hells would I joke about this? I currently have three teenagers in the hold of this damn ship who are convinced that I’m a Jedi Sentinel named Naver who happened to sense a disturbance in the Force. Since it’s blatantly clear that my creativity it lacking, you can be sure that I couldn’t make this bantha fodder up if I tried!”

“Dustil, can you please come here? Our former ‘master’ is on the comm and he believes that he’s being hilarious. Perhaps you can convince him to tell me what’s really going on.”

“What the hells is going on now, Malak?” The younger Onai looked supremely irritated, which actually mirrored how Alek was currently feeling.

“That’s not my name.”

Appearing unbothered by the correction, Dustil sneered for a moment before snapping, “What kinrath nest did Vann get my dad into this time?”

“Oh, did he not tell you? Supposedly through the will of the Force, Vann, Meetra, and your father are now teenagers with no memory of their adult lives.” Bastila looked equally unamused. “Funny, yes?”

“Hi-kriffing-larious.”

Alek was about two second from hanging up and hoping that Rand would be more helpful, if only to get Meetra back into her proper body, when a slender figure crept into the room just within view of the comm unit.

“Um, Knight Naver, I apologize for bothering you but…”

There was a loud pop of static from the other end of the comm, which turned out to be Bastila covering the microphone with her hand so that she could curse for about thirty seconds straight.

“Yes, Deran? I was actually just telling me friend Bastila a bit about you and the others in the hope that she’d be willing to assist us in figuring out what happened. Perhaps you’d like to speak with her about your current situation? It could be useful.”

It was hard to tell who was more bewildered by the entire scenario. Luckily, Deran’s natural curiosity quickly took hold and he slipped over to the console and situated himself before the camera. “Hello, Bastila was it? What did you want to ask me?”

“Oh stars…” The young woman was doing a poor job of disguising her surprise, though she still managed to stutter, “I apologize for my lack of manners. You just… remind me of someone I know. No matter. Actually, Deran, I was just wondering how, ah, how old you are.”

“You really aren’t a Jedi, are you? Sorry, that was rude. It’s just… everyone in the Order always seems to know everything about me. But uh, I turned eighteen a few months ago.”

“Two years before Knighthood…”

“Bastila, be careful. You don’t want to scare the boy!” While it was technically true that Deran became the youngest Knight in the order at age twenty, that wasn’t information his eighteen-year old self knew. It wasn’t until nineteen that his trials actually began.

Plastering on a false smile, the young woman quickly stammered, “That’s just a guess on my part. Though, of course, I could be wrong. It’s not like I can see the future and you’re so very… young.”

Unfortunately, just the mention of Knighthood had made Deran’s back go stiff, his jaw ticking in the corner even as his expression remained stoic and proper. “Well, that’s for the Council to decide. They know best.” Even at this age he sounded thoroughly unconvinced. “What else do you want to ask me?”

“That’s… that’s it.” Turning to Alek, Bastila stated, “I believe you and I’ll do whatever I can to help. Just tell me what you need.”

“I’ll send you all of the data I have in a minute. Let me just find out what brought Deran in here in the first place.”

“I came in to let you know that Carth and Meetra left the ship. They said that they got tired of waiting for you and decided to explore on their own.” The teen winced slightly. “Also, they may have been flirting? I’m not always great at telling that type of stuff, but it’s possible they just went to go and… you know.”

The snort of hysterics from Dustil was all the confirmation that Alek needed to know that this entire situation was his punishment from the Force. Part of him considered letting Meetra and Onasi do whatever they wanted. Someone else could deal with the fallout. But he also needed to get Deran out of the room to prevent him from snooping. “I’m concerned that they’re going to get themselves into trouble. There are some very powerful ruins on this planet and I’d hate for them to make the current situation even more complicated. Can I trust you to find them and bring them back safely?”

It was an underhanded ploy. Alek was fully aware that Deran’s facade of teenage bravado combined with his crippling fear of failure would make him agree to almost any task without question. But the former Sith didn’t have time to chase two teenagers down, all while trying to keep a third from learning that he was currently speaking with his own kriffing Padawan.

As expected, Deran immediately nodded. “Of course. I’ll bring them back as quickly as possible.”

It wasn’t until the teen’s footfalls disappeared off the ship that Alek sat down with a sigh, his head pounding from the sheer mental acrobatics required to keep this situation moving forward. As he uploaded the information from Vann’s datapad he grumbled, “For Force sake, Dustil. I thought your father would be the responsible one!”

The damned kid was still laughing. “Just checking, but is Meetra the teenager as pretty as Meetra the adult? Big blue eyes and wavy blonde hair?”

Attempting to be objective about the attractiveness of someone who was like a sister to him, Alek shrugged. “I suppose? She was more petite at this age, almost willowy. I honestly think she looks better with some muscle. Less delicate.”

“I don’t care either way, it’s just… My dad kinda has a type. Or, at least he did at that point in his life. My mom was petite with wavy, honey-brown hair. They met when he was twenty.”

“Please tell me you’re joking.”

“Nope, you can look up the files for Morgana Onasi if you want. I um, I have. Just to see her, you know? It helps me to remember her face…” Shaking away his melancholy, Dustil cleared his throat. “Ah, anyway, at eighteen my Dad was really responsible when it came to official things. Training and studying? He was incredibly dedicated. But when he had time to himself he kind of… let loose. Nothing really bad, just a lot of drinking and fooling around with his fellow cadets. Put a bunch of bored, horny teenagers in the same dorm and stuff happens.”

Alek had lived in the Jedi dormitories during puberty and was well aware of what could happen. He winced.

“The good news is that my dad definitely liked men at that age as well… Please don’t ask how I know this. It was a really awkward conversation that only happened because I got mad at him and… ugh. But the good news is that he might rediscover how amazing Vann is. He is really great at this age, right?”

“He’s actually an anxious mess who likes to pretend he’s confident, which just comes off as arrogance. It doesn’t help that he’s actually good at whatever he does. Honestly, I think your father currently wants to throttle him.”

“Ouch. Well, maybe they’ll lose all memory of this once they get restored to their actual ages!”

“We can only hope the Force is that kind.” Rubbing his forehead, Alek asked, “Bastila, have you looked over those files I sent?”

“I’m reading them now and I’ll run them through the Rakata archives when I’m done. But you should be aware that, while we have a significant amount of information on the Infinite Empire, we don’t have much else. Vann tries to update what he can, but it’s still nothing compared to what the Jedi possess.”

“Do your best, it’s still more than I have access to on this ship.”

“I do have an idea, but you’re not going to like it one bit.” Upon noting Alek’s hopeful expression, Bastila sighed...

#kotor 2 #kotor 2 fanfic #wip excerpt #revan #male Revan #vann chis #The Jedi Exile #Female exile #Alek Squinquargesimus #Malak #bastila shan #dustil onasi #my writing #not perfection but completeness

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