#this is why I was drawn to Star Wars in the first place | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

Visit Blog

Explore Tumblr blogs with no restrictions, modern design and the best experience.

Fun Fact

28.6 is the average number of monthly visits per US mobile user.

#this is why I was drawn to Star Wars in the first place

amuseoffyre · 6 months

Text

Since insomnia is kicking my arse of late, I naturally tilted into the thoughts about the nature of the 3-act structure and why S2 of OFMD may have felt off and incomplete to a lot of people.

I am fully in agreement that we lost a lot of valuable time with only 8 episodes and a lot of it did feel rushed, but for the amount of story and set-up and growth and development they needed to fit into 4 hours of television, they did astonishing things.

DJenks has said from the very start that this is a story that has been planned out to take 3 seasons. It's literally a 3-act play and we are currently right in the middle of the worst part of that timeline according to every traditional 3-act structure.

Act one/season one is self-explanatory. Like New Hope in the Star Wars Trilogy or Fellowship of the Ring, this is the set-up. We're introduced to our protagonists and antagonists, the relationships are given a foundation.

The beginning is Stede's journey to becoming a real boy. The inciting incident, the one that actually pushes his change beyond "playing pirates" is meeting Ed. The second thoughts come together in episode 8/9 after his confrontations with Jack and Chauncey and episode 10 is the climax.

Act 2/season 2 is never going to be as smooth and simple as act 1/s1. A big part of the A2/S2 job is set up for A3/S3 and this is what we're seeing and why a lot of story threads seem to have been left dangling.

Again, to call back to Empire Strikes Back and The Two Towers, the structure is much the same: the original batch of people are divided and scattered, the big enemy from A1/S1 is looming, new allies make themselves known. In SW, this meant the introduction of Lando and Yoda as allies plus the hint of the Emperor lurking in the background. In LotR, we have the Rohirrim, Gondor and the Ents as allies and the expansion of Sauron's forces in Helm's Deep, Osgiliath and the winged wraiths.

There's a clear trajectory following the A2/S2 structure:

obstacle 1 - the crews separated and struggling

obstacle 2 - the end of episode 2 and the repercussions of his actions

twist - just when things start to settle, the Ned Low situation happen and Stede kills for the first time

obstacle 3 - Ed's struggle with his identity leading to him leaving

disaster - Ricky's assault on the Republic

crisis - do-or-die battle because they have no other choice

climax - the last 15 minutes of ep. 8 live here.

As with SW and LotR, there's an ending, but weighted with the knowledge of a story that is meant to continue. Each of those act 2 films end with the heroes still aware of the looming threat, some of them heading out on new missions, and some of them resting and healing. There's brief pause, brief respite, a moment to take a breath.

We have all the characters in place now and the battle-lines have been drawn. Luke still needs to confront Vader (I see you, impending Ed and Hornigold confrontation), Frodo still needs to destroy the ring, Aragorn still needs to lead the army against the Black Gate, the second Death Star is still hanging in the sky.

I'm so excited to see what S3 brings because we have so many arcs ready to go: Zheng's vengeance trip, the inevitable enforced out-of-retirement arc for Ed and Stede, Hornigold, Ricky trying to maintain his tenuous control of the republic given how many of his people were killed when the crew escaped, the pirate rebellion gathering forces.

Also how often do we get shows/films where the supporting cast are given this much storyline? We have a named/speaking-role cast of upwards of 15 central characters. That is a staggering amount of people to work with, when most shows would only focus on the leads and a couple of their friends. Six is the average for most TV shows, while comedies can inch higher because ensembles, but most ensembles don't get as much as our crew did.

I know a lot of people aren't happy about Izzy's death. I know I would have liked to see him a lot more, because he's such a grumpy old bitch and I love him and him affectionately roasting Ed and Stede would have made my entire month. But I'm also aware that narratively, as a figurehead of the old ways of piracy and "we were Blackbeard", it was a symbolic death as well - a sign of the death of the old ways of piracy and of Blackbeard as was.

(Also, they Obi-Wanned him. I'm not over that. Gave him the "if you strike me down I will become more powerful" speech. I'm just... guys, your star wars nerdery is showing XD)

So while it was flawed in places and pacing, given the scale of the story they're telling, the number of pieces and characters they had in play, and the arcs they have been setting up while also still keeping the humour, I am giving a standing ovation for a remarkable piece of work.

#ofmd #ofmd s2 #ofmd meta

384 notes · View notes

padfootdaredmetoo · 3 months

Text

Attachments

Anakin Skywalker X Padawan Reader

This was purely selfish, but I couldn't get it out of my head. I don't think there is a demand for these sorts of fics. Anyway, this takes place during the Revenge of the Sith. The reader is Anakin's Padawan from the Clone Wars. When she hears that Anakin is fallen to the dark side she decides it's a great time to confess her feelings. (she is legal and he didn't know her as a kid) (I'm not exactly well versed in Star Wars lore so apologies in advance)

Warnings: Kissing

You were not entirely shocked by Obi-Wan’s words. The chancellor's words about the Republic's corruption had drawn you in too. But No way Anakin was a Sith. You had been beside him the whole war. No way he would turn his back on you or Obi-Wan or his life.

Maybe that was your heart speaking. You could feel darkness clouding him but could still feel him well enough to find him. You landed your ship and walked out. The planet's heat bit at your skin and your eyes burned.

You felt him acknowledge your presence and your stomach filled with nerves. Anakin had been through a lot in his life and you saw how people often treated him. You knew there was a chance he was so far gone that killing you wouldn't be an issue.

But your heart held so much hope you were rooted on the path in front of you. You had tried to be a good Padawan, tried to avoid attachment. But avoiding attachment to him was almost impossible. Everything about him puts you at ease.

He emerged from the shadowy arch onto the bridge you had landed on. His hood was drawn and you wanted nothing more than to rip it off. You wanted see his eyes while he broke your heart.

“Anakin.” You broke the silence and the hurt was already palpable in your voice. He moved towards you, coming close and grabbing your shoulders.

“You have to understand. The corruption, all of this war, everything it’s -”

“All lies, Anakin. Palpatine is playing everyone, I don’t trust him.”

“The power is necessary to bring balance to the galaxy. It’s necessary to save you.” Anakin’s voice was dark and it caused you to shudder.

“I don’t want you to be the chosen one.” You whispered raising your hands up slowly and pushing his hood back. His eyes were varying dark shades of red.

“Who do you want me to be then?” He snapped. Everyone always needed or wanted him to be something, you were no exception.

“Mine.” You barely got the words out. This confession was going to doom you, yet you knew if there was a way, any chance of bringing him back, you had to take it. His eyes flared.

“I must master death to keep you alive. My dreams - I won't lose you like my mother.” You could feel his mental blocks fluttering.

“You saw me dying surrounded by lava.” You waved a hand around. “So save me.” He thought about your words for a moment.

“Not even the Sith can master death, they can move bodies, do you really want Palpatine inside me?” You raised a brow and he gripped your shoulders tighter in anger.

“No, but I - I can’t go back now.” You felt his mind move back to the control room behind him. All those separatists dead.

“Don’t judge me if I don't mourn for them.” You knew you should be more serious about things, but that’s just how you were with Anakin. They could be in the thick of battle still telling jokes.

“He wants me to go kill the younglings,” Anakin whispered.

“Good Luck.” You snorted and his eyes flared. “Anakin you cried like a baby when you held Senator Amidala's kids for the first time. You can do a lot of things, but killing children isn't one of them.”

“Why are you so sure of me?” His voice was breaking and you could feel his emotions radiating off of him more freely.

“Because I love you.” You felt his arms slacken and moved towards him. Grabbing his face.

“The code-”

“Had never stopped us from misbehaving before.” You watched the war raging in his mind. You decided to go for it, worst case you would die but at least you would know what it would be like to kiss him. You pulled at his face and raised up on your tiptoes. He didn't make it easy for you, but then again he never did.

Your lips crashed against his and you felt his arms wrap around you tightly. His head bowed to you and he kissed you back. The attachment forming between you was all-consuming. It took all of you and you could feel his memories and mind pressing against yours. He felt everything inside you. All your emotions about him. There was no space to feel self-conscious as his own love poured against you. Tears spilled down your cheeks and he gripped at your flesh through your robes.

Mine - Be mine Anakin

Your mind kept saying it over and over and over again before you realized he could probably hear it. His kisses were harsh and consuming and you could feel them in your soul. There is nowhere you wouldn't follow this bond. You prayed he would be kind, if only for your sake, and return to the light.

A splash of lava washed up on the edge of the bridge as chunks of rocks slid into it. He broke the kiss abruptly.

“Time to save you.” He motioned towards the ramp of the ship. You went inside and like every mission over the past three years, you resumed your usual positions. His eyes were their usual rich brown and you felt your muscles relax. You took the first easy breath in a long time.

He chose you.

“You have a stowaway on this ship.” He said. You stood up and moved in front of Anakin, lightsaber drawn. A move he repeatedly tried to get you to stop. But at the end of the hall, Obi-Wan’s figure revealed itself.

Anakin struggled with his master occasionally and you hoped that this didn’t set him back. He needed time to rest before coming to terms with everything if he was going to stay in the light. After that, they could lecture him.

“Master,” Anakin said in a neutral voice.

“Anakin.” Obi-Wan greeted him with a broken voice. Anakin moved past you and moved towards his master. Obi-Wan grabbed Anakin’s face looking into his eyes before making a choking sound.

His arms wrapped around Anakin tightly.

“My boy, my son.” The tears were evident in his voice. “I failed you. Anakin -” His voice cut off as Anakin hugged him back.

“It wasn’t your fault, master.” Anakin was crying too.

“It was, it is. I should have- I was so focused on doing everything by the code, I forgot some of Qui-Gon’s most important rules.” You decided to resume your spot steering the ship giving them a moment. “He tried to tell me of corruption, I didn’t see it till-”

“Master no one saw it. I let you down and I’m sorry.”

“It is behind us now.” He released Anakin and patted him on the back. You looked over your shoulder and watched as he tried to compose himself. Tears were streaming down your own face.

“Not you too,” Anakin said moving towards you.

“Dad moments kill me.” You mumbled wiping the tears on the back of your hands. Anakin took his seat and motioned for you to come sit on his lap. You didn't need to be asked twice. You curled up in his lap, tucking your face into his neck. Obi-Wan took your spot.

“I haven't slept in a very long time.” You yawned “I’m sorry if I doze off.” Anakin only kissed the top of your head. He was just happy to be trusted to hold your sleeping body. To be trusted to watch over you.

#anakin skywalker #anakin x reader #anakin skywalker x reader #Revenge of the sith #Star wars #Star wars fic #Anakin Skywalker fic #anakin skywalker imagine

145 notes · View notes

weirdly-specific-but-ok · 2 months

Text

star wars but I've never watched it

I'm flirting with death (the star wars fandom) and it's about to succumb. I mean, be seduced. I promise when I flirt the intended result is not succumbing (usually). Here, have this, I know you maggots have missed my summaries they're so comprehensive and well-researched. Two cups of black coffee down. LET'S GO, MAGGOTS.

It is not Star Trek, and if I mix them up, both fandoms will tear me limb from limb, but mainly Star Trek because they're less popular?

No, that was not intended to be inflammatory, it's just what I was warned when I first got kidnapped. Don't blame the student, blame the system.

LUKE, I AM YOUR FATHER.

Except that's actually a misquote, it's No, I am your father. Mad trivia game. Huge star wars fan, me (why do I sound like Crowley).

It's set in outer space.

Are daleks stormtroopers?

Yoda pulls sentences in half like Crowley pulls Aziraphale's legs apart while they're not talking, and then tries interesting positions.

Leia has space-buns and makes out with Luke.

Luke is Leia's brother.

Anakin, whom I thought was some sexy babygirl side character, is apparently Darth Vader.

I am certain some people still find him a sexy babygirl. I just hope if he has a sister, she doesn't.

Is incest hereditary? Besides the obvious, I mean.

Small and green, Yoda is.

Daleks or not, there are storm-troopers, and they wear white plastic but not in a kinky way. Mostly. I remember one video a maggot showed me of a dustbin and--anyway.

They have bad aim.

There is a Death Star, and there is also a Death Star in Star Trek, but this is the more obvious one.

It has machinery specially engineered so if you shoot at that one place, the entire spaceship explodes or shuts down, which is a convenient feature.

A baby Yoda, they made. To make merchandise in time, Disney failed. Money, they lost.

There's something called the Force which everyone irl uses to try and get their remote to fly to them while sitting on the couch watching TV. They squint and reach out their hand while doing this. It rarely works.

There are a lot of unnecessary sequels and prequels. People are not happy.

A lot of Star Wars has inspiration drawn from ancient Indian philosophy and Hindu mythology. Just fun trivia, since I'm such a huge Star Wars fan.

Chewbacca?

R2D2? Robot go beep beep.

Han Solo and Leia get together.

Who is Han Solo? The guy who witnessed Leia making out with her brother. Whatever gets you off, king.

Dead, Yoda might be. Not sure, I am.

Rogue 1?

Return of the... Empire? No, wait, Jedi.

Empire Strikes Back!

Jedi exist. Because uh, it was in the title. They'd better exist.

Luke's daddy cuts off his hand. Not in a sexual way. But you never know with this family.

End (Not. Disney is going to milk this cash cow till they run out of ideas because of underpaid writers, and then they'll do a remake, probably).

Welcome, you are. Comprehensive, all-inclusive, this summary is.

#good omens mascot #asmi #star wars #good omens #<- got to love the brainrot #it even sneaks into my other fandom posts #maggots #empire strikes back #han solo #luke skywalker #yoda #weirdly specific but ok #rogue one #star wars summary #return of the jedi #sw fandom #star wars fandom

103 notes · View notes

simpforboys · 1 year

Note

may i request a lo’ak x reader where she’s the golden girl in the omatikayan clan? like there’s talk of her beauty and talent in the hunt? i would love lo’ak just pining for reader and being so in love with her, i can imagine her just being so kind and caring to lo’ak who only heard of insults and complaints before but now that reader is there, he feels so seen and loved and its just FLUFFY LO’AK FIC ACK

STOP BC I LITERALLY LOVE THIS

she looks just like a dream

lo’ak sully x fem!omatikaya!reader

summary: lo’ak finds comfort in you, the shining star.

warnings: mentions of jake being stern with lo’ak (our poor baby >:( ), minor name calling, you love lo’ak a lot, fluff fluff fluff

peyral is the woman who neytiri said was the best hunter in the first movie btw just for those who don’t know!!

the sun just seemed to shine on you, following you around anywhere you went.

you brightened anyone’s day up just by being near them, your elegance and kindness allowing them to instantly cheer up.

the omatikayas began to refer to you as, “y/n the shining star.”

daughter of peyral, being a naturally born hunter was bound to happen.

you were trained from a young age and eventually perfected the art of hunting. you knew how to hunt, loved to dance with your people during festivities, and sang wonderfully with the elders.

you were practically perfect in everyone’s eyes.

especially lo’ak’s.

the poor boy had been so helplessly drawn to you, being trapped in whatever trance you seemed to put him in.

he would have never expected you to fall for him.

you smiled widely as you called out a war cry, your people yelping behind you as your ikrans soared through the sky.

jake sully, the olo’eyktan, had been fond of your skills and wanted to you guide a group through the sky people attacks.

your ikran landed on the high camp as others followed. you jumped off the girl, petting her head as you unattached your queue.

“sìltsan (well done).” you praised.

the village came over to congratulate you on the successful attack, smiling brightly as your eyes wandered for lo’ak.

lo’ak was already looking at you, his ears down as his father began to scold him. but he wasn’t listening, because you just seemed so golden.

you looked just like a dream, the prettiest girl he’s ever seen.

neteyam nudged him with his shoulder, causing lo’ak to break out of his daze.

when you finally caught him, he was getting scolded by his father.

“irayo (thank you).” you nodded to your people, but all you wanted to do was rest with your mate.

you scurried out of the crowd, going over to where lo’ak stood with his head hung low.

“jake,” you bowed your head at the olo’eyktan.

“y/n.” he bowed his head back, a sign of respect.

“with your permission, may i help your son heal?” you grabbed lo’ak’s arm and held it gently, your three fingers running up and down his skin gently.

jake sighed, still disappointed in his son. but neytiri gave him a look, and jake nodded at you.

you pulled lo’ak away, a smile on his face now that he finally got to see you.

“what had happened?” you asked. the both of you began to walk into your secret area, a place within the forest.

“i wanted to help carry out the weapons with everyone else. of course, the sky people had come from above which caused neteyam to almost get blown up.” lo’ak frowned at his words.

you looked at the boy, cupping his face to make him stare at you.

“what did your father say?”

“called me a disappointment, yet again. how i put everyone in danger.”

“it is not your fault.” you comforted the boy.

he pulled you into his body, holding you tightly as his chest rose and fell against your own.

“i am proud of you, lo’ak.” you whispered in his ear, scratching his braided scalp as he purred against you.

“i don’t deserve you.” he said softly.

“you are insulting me by thinking that. you deserve me just as much as i deserve you.”

“i just don’t know why you would pick a skxawng (idiot) like me out of all the boys in the clan. i just mess everything up.”

the boy now pulled away from you, looking down at his feet as you looked at him with doe eyes. his tail hung down by his legs, a sign of sadness.

“ma lo’ak,” you grabbed his chin softly and guided him back to your face.

“oel ngati kameie (i see you). i have always seen you,” you placed your hand on his, holding it up so he could see as you interlocked it. his four fingers fit perfectly between your three.

“i did not know how much you could adore someone until i met you. you make me completely, and i hope i make you feel completed.”

lo’ak’s ears shifted up as he stared at you, eyes sparkling under the eclipse.

his heart was pounding in his chest, butterflies in his stomach with a blush to his blue cheeks.

he loved you so much.

“i love you, y/n.” he blurted out.

it was the first time you had said the special words.

you grinned widely, tail up in excitement.

“i love you, ma lo’ak.”

you grabbed the boy and pulled him into a kiss, his smile making your heart flutter as he pulled you closer to him.

————-

tags: @mayhemories

+ send me a message if you wanna be tagged in my works!!!

#simpforboys #lo’ak x y/n #loak x reader #loak imagine #loak angst #loak #loak x you #avatar loak #lo’ak fluff #lo’ak imagine #lo’ak x reader #avatar 2022 #free my boy #lo’ak sully #loak sully

855 notes · View notes

thot-of-khonshu · 3 months

Text

All Access, Chapter 2

All Access Masterlist | Ko-Fi | A03 Link

Pairing: 70s rockstar! frankie morales x f! reader

Rating: 18+ (explicit, minors do not interact)

Word Count: 7.4K

Summary: You're officially on the road with Triple Frontier and you try to adapt to a boys club. After Benny makes a misogynistic comment, you lean into the arms of Frankie and things quickly get hot and heavy.

Content: 70s au, drug use, heavy partying, triple frontier as rockstars, vietnam war discussion, misogyny, explicit smut, fingering, p in v sex

Thank you all so much for the love on this and for everyone's continuous help in any beta reading/reblogs. @pedropascal-whore and @nostalxgic thank you so so so much for your continued help!

Please don’t forget to like, comment, reblog!!!

There's a giant doin' cartwheels, a statue wearin' high heels

Look at all the happy creatures dancin' on the lawn

Dinosaur Victrola, listenin' to Buck Owens

Doot, doot, doo, lookin' out my back door

Benny was currently orchestrating a sing-along with everyone on the bus, the radio blasting CCR as you drove past green pastures. Benny loved sing-alongs.

They all loved sing-alongs. That was the first thing you’d noticed when you boarded the tour bus with the guys.

Your roommate had dropped you off, surveying the scene like a mom watching her kid on the first day of school. She asked if you were sure you wanted to do this. So many people had asked this question over the last week, why the hell would you ever say no?

You knew deep down that they had a point. The music industry was a beast with teeth, and being the lone woman on a bus full of rock stars wasn't exactly a walk in the park. You didn't have a lot of experience with men, let alone with famous ones, but there was something about the opportunity to tell their story–their real story–that compelled you. You had a feeling in your gut that this was the path for you, the path to your future.

The guys had also welcomed you with open arms, between the maelstrom of stale cigarette smoke and the musky scent of leather jackets and guitar cases they had given you your own space in the form of a bunk bed.

In the brief time you’ve been on the bus with them, you’ve been able to take out your journal and pen, and jot down observations and thoughts. Every so often, your gaze drifted over to the boys, studying their mannerisms, and the way they interacted with each other.

Santiago was the charmer, flirting with anyone and everyone, including you. His confidence was palpable, but you had a feeling there was more to him than just his cockiness.

Benny was the jokester, always cracking a smile or a bad pun, lightening the mood when it got tense. His playful nature was endearing, and you couldn't help but feel drawn to his warm personality.

Will was the stoic one, never letting his emotions show. You sensed a deeper layer of pain beneath his gruff exterior, and you were determined to uncover what it was.

Frankie, with his soulful eyes and kind smile, was a mystery. There was an unspoken understanding between the two of you, a bond that you couldn't explain. You wanted to know more about him, but you knew he was a man of few words.

With your observations jotted down in your journal, you leaned back in your seat, listening to the low rumble of the bus and watching the landscape pass by.

"Mind if I sit here?" Santiago's voice cut through your thoughts, his voice smooth and inviting.

"Of course," you replied, flashing him a quick smile as you shuffled your belongings to make room. He slid into the seat beside you, his presence immediately commanding, like a spotlight finding its mark on a dimly lit stage.

"Getting some good material for your story?" he asked, nodding towards your journal.

"Always," you said with a small smile, feeling the weight of the assignment on your shoulders. "Got to capture the essence while it's fresh."

Santiago chuckled, a low and raspy sound that sent a shiver down your spine. "Well, you're in the right place. This tour is gonna be a wild ride."

"If it's like the other night at the Chateau, I can't even imagine."

He grinned, his eyes crinkling with amusement. "Oh, sweetheart, that was just the beginning. You ain't seen nothing yet."

"Fillmore West," you murmured the venue you were on your way to, sketching out the bare bones of the article in your head. The name alone carried weight, history—a legacy of acts that had stood where Triple Frontier would soon take the stage.

"Big shoes to fill," you whispered, more to the passing trees than to anyone on the bus.

"Biggest," Santiago agreed. "But we'll fill 'em."

"Confident," you noted, unable to suppress a smile.

"Realistic," he countered, a spark of humor lighting up his features for a fleeting moment.

"Well, you've certainly got the attitude," you teased.

Santiago shrugged before leaning back in his seat, his long legs sprawled out before him. "I'd prefer to call it passion."

You cocked an eyebrow, "Is that so?"

"Sure," he said, his gaze meeting yours. "When you love something–when it's your whole fucking life–you gotta give it your all, you know? You gotta go balls to the wall, all in. Anything less isn't worth it."

"Interesting," you said, intrigued by his perspective. "So what about the fans, then? Is it the same for them?"

Santiago thought for a moment, his eyes fixed on the passing scenery. "Yeah, I guess so. They're as invested as we are: they show up, scream their lungs out, and buy our records. They're part of the machine, just like us."

"The machine, huh? Do you think it's fair to say that the music industry is a machine? That everyone is just a cog in the wheel, working to keep it running?"

Santiago shook his head, a wry smile tugging at his lips, "Fuck no. It's a dog-eat-dog world out there. If you want to survive, you gotta be willing to fight for what you believe in. You gotta be hungry, and you gotta be ruthless."

"Ruthless, huh? And that's how you got where you are now?"

"It's how I've survived this long."

You nodded, processing his words.

Santiago leaned in to whisper to you, tapping a rhythm against his thigh. "Speaking of passion, Frankie couldn't stop talking about how passionate you were about your work. ‘Said it was refreshing to see someone so dedicated."

Your heart stumbled over a beat, the mention of Frankie sending a curious warmth radiating through your chest. You turned to Santiago, trying to gauge the sincerity in his words. "He said that?"

"Yep." Santiago gave a nonchalant shrug, but his eyes twinkled with mischief. "Frankie doesn't give out compliments easily. You must've made quite the impression."

An unfamiliar fluttering sensation took residence in your stomach, a mixture of nerves and something elusively akin to excitement. You tucked the feeling away, instead focusing on the story unfolding before you. "Well, impressions are part of the job, aren't they?"

"Sure, but not everyone leaves a lasting one." He watched you for a moment, a knowing look etched onto his face.

"Let's hope I can live up to it then," you quipped, eager to steer the conversation back to safer territory.

"Something tells me you will," Santiago replied. Picking up on your nervousness, he changed the topic. "Just remember, this is a two-way street. We're giving you a glimpse behind the curtain, so you gotta share a bit of yourself, too."

You considered his words, surprised at his openness. "Fair enough. I'll do my best."

He sauntered back to his bandmates, leaving you with a notebook full of scribbles and a mind swirling with possibilities.

Frankie thought you were special.

The idea sent a shiver down your spine that had nothing to do with the cool breeze sneaking in through the cracks of the bus.

--------------------------------------

The clang of silverware and the chatter of patrons swirled around as you and the band stepped into a modest roadside cafe, the scent of fresh coffee and griddle pancakes saturating the air.

You grabbed a menu, your eyes scanning over the array of sandwiches and salads. "What's good here?" You asked, more to yourself than anyone else.

"Try the turkey club," Frankie suggested, his voice unexpectedly close. "It's pretty solid."

"Thanks," you said, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks at the sudden attention. Your eyes met for an instant—his brown gaze steady, a quiet intensity within their depths that seemed to see right through you. You quickly looked down at the laminated menu, pretending to be engrossed in the sandwich section.

"Ever tried writing about food?" he asked, his tone light, teasing almost.

“Can't say I have," you replied, smiling despite the awkward fluttering in your chest. "My editor would probably have a heart attack if I pitched him a piece on the culinary prowess of roadside diners."

"Shame," Frankie said, chuckling softly. "You might be onto something."

"Maybe in another life," you mused, still avoiding his gaze. You could sense his amusement, and it was oddly comforting. You risked a glance at him, finding his smile genuine, devoid of the usual rock star pretense.

"Turkey club it is then," you declared, setting the menu aside just as Tom approached the two of you before getting sat down by a host. He gestured to you.

"Hey, can I grab you for a sec?" Tom's voice carried the weight of unspoken urgency.

"Sorry to pull you away," Tom began, leading you towards a corner of the café, away from the buzz of lunchtime chatter. His brow was furrowed, the lines etched deeply. "About that conversation you overheard the other night—it wasn't what it seemed."

"Okay," you said as you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, your senses heightened to the undercurrent of seriousness in his demeanor, "but managing another band? That's pretty significant, Tom."

"Look," he sighed, rubbing the back of his neck—a gesture you'd come to recognize as Tom grappling with the complexities of his role. "I am fully committed to Triple Frontier–those are my brothers–but this industry... It's relentless. You've got to keep your options open, ‘doesn't mean I'm abandoning ship."

"I get it," you said, not sure if you truly did but were willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. "Just trying to stay ahead of the curve, right?"

"Exactly." Tom's lips twitched into a semblance of a smile. "I appreciate your understanding. Now, go enjoy your lunch. And don't forget to try that turkey club."

"Will do," you replied, your mind already spinning.

-------------------------

You had barely finished your first bite of the turkey club when the guys started telling you stories about Vietnam.

"I swear, these fucking rats would've been the death of me," Benny said, shaking his head. "We're talking like the size of a cat or a small dog. Some of 'em were big enough to carry a baby in their mouth."

"That's heavy," you said, fascinated. "So what would you do when you saw them?"

"I'd either try to kick it or shoot at it, sometimes both."

"You didn't do shit," Frankie interjected. "Remember the time that big rat came scurrying across the tent and you jumped up on a crate, screaming like a little girl?"

Benny glared at Frankie, his eyes narrowed. "Fuck you, Morales. I was not scared, just wasn’t in the mood to deal with some mangy rat."

"That was the only thing that scared you the entire time we were over there, hermano." Santiago added.

"You're both full of shit," Benny said, rolling his eyes.

"Are they?" Will asked, "Because I remember when mom asked us to help clean up the garage and a mouse was hiding behind one of the boxes. You screamed like a banshee and ran out of the house, ‘wouldn't go back in until dad caught it."

"Fuck you, too," Benny shot back.

"Language," Santiago said, smirking.

"Oh, shut up," Benny grumbled.

"Don't get mad at me," Santiago replied, his expression feigning innocence. "I wasn't the one who got scared by a rat."

It was clear that more than anything; the guys shared a brotherhood between them. An unbreakable bond.

"You're all terrible," you joked, unable to contain a smile.

"Yeah, yeah," Benny waved his hand dismissively. "But we're also the guys who will protect you from the rats, so you're welcome."

"How valiant," you replied, earning a few snickers. "Between all the rats and Benny's screaming, how did you guys have time to decide you wanted to make music?"

"Oh, that was a no-brainer," Tom piped up, leaning back in his chair. "These guys would play and sing every chance they got. ‘Didn't matter if it was the middle of the night or the ass-crack of dawn, they were always making music."

"We could hear them in the next barracks," Frankie added, his voice softer than the others, his gaze fixed on the table. "Santi and Will would have their guitars out, and they'd just start playing."

"And Benny would be singing along," Santiago added, "Or dancing. Or doing some weird combination of the two."

Benny shrugged, his grin lopsided. "Gotta keep things interesting."

You nodded, taking notes as the conversation flowed, their stories illuminating the early days of Triple Frontier. You could picture them on a rickety wooden stage, surrounded by sweaty bodies and cigarette smoke, their music carrying them into the night.

As the meal wrapped up, you felt a twinge of guilt, knowing that you'd have to eventually write about their military experience, something they clearly were not proud of.

"Guys, I'm going to have to ask a difficult question," you began, swallowing thickly. "But it's necessary for the article."

"I think we know what you're gonna ask," Santiago said, his tone guarded. "And we don't have any regrets about joining the military. It was a hard time for everyone, but we did our best. We served our country."

"I know, and I respect that," you replied, "But you're also a rock band now, and people are interested in what drove you to that point, how you got out."

The silence hung heavy, no one willing to break the tension. Finally, Benny spoke up, his voice uncharacteristically somber.

"It's like I said earlier, we were all looking for an escape. We needed something to believe in, something to help us make sense of everything. Music was that thing for us."

"It became our purpose, our mission," Will continued, his words deliberate. "We knew we had something special, and we weren't going to let anything stand in the way of that. When Nixon sent us home in '70, we decided to pursue our dream, no matter what."

"So, to answer your question," Santiago concluded, "We joined the military because we were desperate, and we got out because we were hungry. Nothing more, nothing less."

"I understand," you nodded, grateful for their honesty. "And thank you for trusting me with your story."

"You're welcome," Frankie said, his voice quiet but his eyes warm.

"Now, let's go rock this show," Benny declared, his energy returning as he jumped out of his seat. "We've got a lot to celebrate."

You nodded, tucking your notebook away. As the group filed out of the café, you couldn't help but linger a moment longer, a strange feeling tugging at your heart.

You glanced back, catching Frankie's gaze, his eyes searching yours. A silent understanding passed between you, a mutual respect and appreciation for the fragility of the moment. You smiled softly, nodding in his direction before heading off to join the others.

-----------------------------

The road to the venue in San Francisco was a blur of green and gray, the hum of the tour bus's engine playing a monotonous backdrop to your thoughts. You were lost in the loop of the group's words at the cafe earlier when Tom's voice cut through, sharp and sudden.

"Alright, you ready for the real rockstar treatment?" Tom asked, eyeing you from across the narrow aisle. His brow was furrowed, a crease of concern marking his usual stoic expression.

"Sure," you laughed, trying to infuse some bravado into my voice. "How bad can it be?"

"Bad? No, not bad. Just... intense." He leaned closer, lowering his voice as if sharing some sacred secret of the trade. "When we open these doors, there's a sea of fans out there. They'll swarm the bus before we even hit the pavement."

"Fans?" You echoed dumbly, clutching your notepad like a shield.

"Like bees to honey," he added, his eyes scanning your face for understanding. "Just stick close to us, okay?"

"Got it." The words tumbled out easier than you felt. The pen in your hand suddenly seemed like a flimsy shield against the onslaught of adoration awaiting the band.

The bus slowed to a halt, and through the tinted windows, you could see a swarm of people pressed against the metal fencing, their faces flushed with excitement. A sea of faces along with a racket of shrieks and chants, banners and signs hoisted high—all for the five guys you'd shared sandwiches with not even two hours ago.

"Here we go." Benny clapped his hands together, grinning ear to ear. "Showtime, boys—and lady."

The door hissed open, and the sound hit you like a physical wave. You instinctively clutched at your bag, holding it close.

Tom went first, striding out to make sure the path was clear. Santiago followed, loose and relaxed. The rest of the band fanned out behind him, their signature swagger dialed up to an eleven. You trailed a few steps behind, feeling like an awkward sixth wheel.

Hands reached out, grasping at any piece of the band they could touch. A security team formed a protective barrier, pushing back the throng as the group made their way towards the stage entrance.

The crowd's chants grew louder, a steady rhythm of "Triple Front-ier! Triple Front-ier!"

It was a strange mix of emotions: awe and intimidation, wonder and apprehension. You felt small, insignificant. But at the same time, a tiny spark of pride flickered within you. It was an honor to be part of that experience.

Someone jostled you from the side, a fan slipping past security to try and touch one of the guys. Off balance, you stumbled, your heart leaping to your throat, instincts screaming that you'd be swallowed whole by this crowd and your rock and roll dreams would be over.

"Hey—watch it!" A familiar voice rose above the chaos, strong and steady.

Frankie.

Before you could fall, his arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you back against the solidity of his chest. He was warm and real amidst the surreal whirlwind of bodies and noise.

"Gotcha," he whispered, his breath hot against your ear, giving you a feeling in your core that made you feel even more unstable.

His grip on you tightened, his palm splayed across your stomach. Your own fingers curled around his wrist, the pulse there fluttering under the pad of your thumb.

You reached the safety of the entrance into the Fillmore West, and he let go, the loss of contact almost physically painful.

"You alright?" he asked, his eyes searching yours.

"Y-yeah," you stammered, heat rising to your cheeks. "Thank you. I mean, for catching me. You know."

"No problem," he replied, the corner of his lips quirked up. "Just stay close next time, okay?"

You nodded, trailing behind him as he joined the rest of the group, the adrenaline of the moment still coursing through your veins.

Before you could fully process what had just happened, Tom boomed. "Alright, boys—we're behind schedule. You're on in five - let's get this show on the road!"

The group scattered, each of them heading in a different direction. Frankie cast a glance over his shoulder, his gaze lingering for a moment on you before he turned away, following Tom near the stage.

You took a deep breath, trying to regain your composure. This was your job, after all. You needed to keep your wits about you.

The boys all made their way close to the stage, huddled in a circle as Tom gave them a pep talk. You could tell that the group was amped up, and they were ready to go. They had an energy about them that was contagious, and you could feel the excitement building as the crowd started cheering louder and louder.

Suddenly you heard Santiago's voice over the group, "Stop, hey, what's that sound?"

"Everybody look what's going down!" The boys echoed.

The group then broke apart, and you could see them all getting ready to perform. Benny ran to the stage first to a sea of applause. Tom hovered back, talking with a lighting crew member and giving a thumbs-up to the sound technician.

Santiago grabbed his guitar, checking the tuning as Will and Frankie tuned their bass and guitar. Benny was already behind the drum set, tapping the sticks on the drums.

The crowd was now going wild, and the band seemed ready. Frankie headed out first, then Will, then Santiago.

"What a day, what a crowd," Santiago said, his voice low and gruff into the microphone. "We've come a long way, baby. Thank you."

You watched as the band played the intro to their hit song, "Santa Maria." The crowd went nuts, and you could feel the electricity in the air.

As the song played, the band started getting more and more into it, their energy feeding off the crowd. Santiago and Benny were bouncing around the stage, while Will and Frankie stayed more rooted in place.

You watched as Frankie moved to the center of the stage, his fingers expertly dancing across the fretboard of his bass. He was the epitome of cool and collected, despite the sweat dripping down his forehead, the same broad hands that splayed across your waist earlier playing the guitar with ease.

Your pen couldn't go across the paper fast enough, trying to capture the essence of the concert—the sweat that glistened on Santiago's brow as he sang every lyric, the bass reverberating through Frankie's body as if he were the instrument himself, Will's fingers deftly plucking the strings of his guitar, his hair fluttering wildly around him, Benny's eyes locked on the audience as he slammed the drums, his arms flying furiously.

After an hour and a half, the group played their final encore, bringing the crowd to their feet. Santiago and Will stood back to back, singing the last notes of the song, the rest of the band playing the final chords.

The crowd cheered, the deafening noise drowning out everything else. You watched as the guys made their way off the stage, exhaustion etched on their faces.

You caught Frankie's gaze as he passed by, his eyes locking with yours for a brief moment. He smiled, a lazy, lopsided smile that sent a jolt through your body.

As the boys made their way backstage, they were greeted by a mob of adoring fans. Benny and Santiago were surrounded by a group of girls, their shrill voices echoing through the hallways.

You lingered in the shadows, watching the scene unfold. It was a strange feeling, witnessing the band's transformation from the quiet guys you'd shared sandwiches with just hours ago to these larger-than-life rock stars.

The guys seemed to be used to it, their easygoing nature never faltering. They signed autographs and posed for pictures, their smiles genuine.

But as the crowd dispersed, you saw a rare glimpse of the band's true selves.

"Triple Frontier's not just a band," You penned in a rare moment of stillness. "They're a phenomenon, a revolution. And I'm right here, in the eye of the hurricane."

------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Drinks on me, folks," Tom declared, his voice hoarse yet triumphant as he claimed a spot at the bar for the band, crew, and you. The band had decided they wanted to celebrate a good show with some drinks.

"Make that a bourbon, neat," You chimed in, slipping onto a stool beside Tom. Your adrenaline still coursed, mingling with anticipation and fatigue.

"Hard day at the office?" Tom joked, his gaze scanning the group to ensure everyone was accounted for and content.

"Something like that," You said, your eyes scanning the room for Frankie. He was somewhere amid the tangle of bodies and laughter, but maddeningly out of reach. You wanted to thank him for earlier.

The bartender slid a glass in front of you, the amber liquid beckoning.

"Bottoms up," Tom said, raising his own drink in a toast. "Here's to the end of a helluva first show on tour with us."

The whiskey was smooth, burning a warm trail down your throat. The buzz was instant, settling into your bones and loosening the knots that had been tying you up since you'd first stepped foot on the bus.

The conversation flowed freely, and you finally got to get acquainted with the roadies, a diverse group of people with varying stories of their own. It was nice, you thought, to be part of a community.

It had been a long time since you'd felt so at ease with a group of people, so included and welcomed. Your job, despite being the closest thing to a rockstar's life you'd ever experienced, had left you somewhat isolated.

And then there was Frankie, his eyes meeting yours across the room as if drawn by some magnetic force. But before your liquid courage could act upon it, Benny came up to you, his voice slurred but his eyes still clear with a mischievous glint.

"The newest girl on the bus, huh?" He said, leaning in close to your ear. His breath was warm and heavy, the smell of beer and cigarettes mixing with the warmth of his skin.

You narrowed your eyes at him, sensing the questionable compliment coming.

"Yeah, Ben," you replied, trying to keep things friendly but also cautious of his intentions.

"Well, you know what they say," he continued, a smirk playing on his lips, "behind every successful man, there's a woman holding down the fort."

You rolled your eyes, trying to laugh it off as you glanced around the bar, looking not only for Frankie amid the crowd this time but for someone to get you out of this.

"Benny, I don't need a man to be successful," you said, feeling a hint of irritation in your tone. "I can be successful on my own, thank you very much."

Benny let out a low chuckle, not treating your words as a serious rebuttal.

"Well, sure, honey, you can be successful without a man," he said, still smirking. "But let's be honest, it's not going to be as easy as if you had one to support you. I mean, think about it. Who's going to iron your clothes, cook your meals, and keep the house tidy when you're out there touring?"

"Benny..." Will had heard part of the conversation, and his face scrunched up in disapproval. "Lay off, man."

But Benny was relentless, "I'm just saying, sweetheart, it's a stark reality. A strong woman like you, you're gonna face a whole lot of challenges out there in the world, and it would sure be a lot easier with a good man on your side. Just remember, a good woman is hard to find these days. Maybe you'll be lucky enough to find one of the roadies to show you the ropes."

You felt the heat of embarrassment rising in your cheeks as you excused yourself from the conversation telling Tom briskly, "I think I'm gonna head back to the hotel, not feeling too well."

You stepped out of the bar, feeling the cool night air on your skin. You knew Benny was a good guy, you had seen it in the countless acts of kindness he showed the crew, but his words stung more than you had anticipated.

You'll never forget the first time someone made you feel invisible because of your gender. It was a sobering reminder that, despite your success, the industry was still a man's world. You were a woman, and women had no place in the rock 'n roll world, especially not as a journalist. You were a novelty, a rarity, an outlier. A pair of tits.

It was a painful realization, and one you had to learn to accept if you were going to make a name for yourself. You were more than just some bozo’s personal maid. You were a sharp mind, a skilled writer, and a tenacious spirit. And you were going to prove every jackass who thought that way including Benny wrong.

"Fuck 'em," you murmured, the alcohol making you bolder as you went into the payphone booth to call a taxi.

You didn't need anyone's approval or permission to do your job, and you damn well knew it.

You dialed the number for the taxi service and they promised a cab within the next 15 minutes. You sighed and leaned against the cool glass of the phone booth, trying to clear your mind. "Hey" a deep voice pulled you out of your thoughts. There was Frankie, leaning against the booth door, his expression unreadable.

"Are you leaving?"

"Yeah," you replied, feeling a twinge of guilt. "I'm sorry, I just-"

"No, I get it," Frankie cut you off, "I saw what happened back there and Will told us that Benny was being an asshole. I'm really sorry about that. He's usually a decent guy, but when he drinks..."

"It's alright. He's not the first asshole I've had to deal with and he won't be the last." You tried to sound more nonchalant than you felt.

Frankie carefully looked at you, you cursed yourself for feeling so exposed in his gaze. “Do you have a ride back to the hotel?”

You nodded, "Yeah, the taxi will be here soon. I should probably go wait for it, I'm sorry."

"Don't be," Frankie said, "If you want some company, I can go back with you. I'm not really in the mood to be around a bunch of drunk assholes, myself."

The offer caught you off guard, but the idea of having Frankie as company seemed comforting. "That would be...nice, actually."

-----------------------------------------------------

You nursed a whiskey, the ice clinking against the glass as you swirled it absentmindedly. The bar at the hotel was dimly lit, casting long shadows over the bottles that lined the shelves and reflected in the mirror behind them. Frankie slid onto the stool beside you, coming back from the bathroom.

"Another round?" he asked, his voice low and rough.

"Let’s do it." You smiled, the corners of your eyes crinkling. Frankie matched your smile and ordered for the both of you. You liked that he knew what you wanted without needing to ask. He sighed, the tension easing from his broad shoulders as he leaned back, resting his elbows on the bar.

"So," he continued, turning towards you, "how's the article coming along?"

"Slowly but surely," you replied, your eyes tracing the edge of your glass. "I feel like I'm still getting used to all of this."

"Honestly?" He looks thoughtful as he takes his hat off and cards through his dark curls. "It's kind of hard for us, too."

You raise your eyebrows at him, curious.

"Yeah," he continues, "I mean, it's been a lot to adjust to. And it's not just the crazy schedule and the traveling, the fans. Trying to fit my daughter into all of this. It's the media and the pressure and all the expectations. It's a lot to take in."

"I bet," you agree, nodding slowly. "But I can see how it would be pretty exciting, too.”

Frankie hums in agreement, "It is. It's just a lot. It's like, this is something we never thought was actually possible and now that it's happening, I don't know, I just never really expected it to be like this."

"Like what?"

He shrugs, "I don't know. So big. So fast. I guess I just always thought we'd have more time to enjoy it, you know? Before it all gets so crazy."

You give him a small smile, "I get that. But nights like tonight, where the whole bar wants to buy you a drink, should be easy to enjoy."

"Yeah," he agrees, a crooked smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, "you're right. Unless your drunk bandmate decides to bother the sweet Rolling Stone reporter to where she wants to leave the party."

You feel the warmth of a blush creeping up your neck, "It wasn't really that bad, I just..."

"You don't have to explain," he interrupts, his voice gentle. "Just because this is your job doesn't mean people can talk to you like that."

You take a sip of your newly placed drink, feeling the burn of the whiskey as it spreads warmth through your body.

"I know," you agree, "but I'm used to it. The industry is a man's world and women, especially journalists, are seen as outsiders. It's just part of the job, I guess."

Frankie lets out a low whistle, "It sounds like a lot of bullshit, honestly. But hey, if you're tough enough to handle all of that, you're tough enough to handle whatever comes your way."

You smile at him, appreciating his support. "Thanks, Frankie. I really appreciate it."

He nods, "Of course. Like I said, if you ever need anything, just know I've got your back."

You take another sip of your drink, feeling the tension of the night begin to fade. The liquor was doing a great job of releasing any inhibitions or shyness you had with Frankie. The two of you talked and laughed about everything.

There was something comforting about his steady presence, his warm laughter resonating with your own. As the night wore on, the bar began to empty out, the loud chatter and clinking glasses giving way to the soft hum of a late-night radio. "My Love" by Paul McCartney & Wings filled the air.

"God, I love this song." You said, leaning against him. “This might be controversial but McCartney is way better than Lennon."

"Lennon has passion, though. He's a rebel," Frankie countered, a smile on his lips.

"I have to say, though, radio never does a song justice," you mused. "You lose the depth—the soul of the vinyl."

"Couldn't agree more." Frankie looked down at you, his eyes softening.

Those damn brown eyes.

"Then maybe..." Frankie began, hesitation making his voice just a bit uneven, but before he could finish his thought, the bartender made an announcement- "Last call!”

You both glanced at your watches, realizing how late it was. Where had the time gone?

“Guess we lost track of time,” you said, a little surprised.

Frankie rubbed his chin thoughtfully, "Yeah," he agreed. “I guess we did.”

The words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken thoughts and feelings that neither of you were quite ready to articulate.

"Hey," You perked up. "I brought my Red Rose Speedway vinyl."

He stood up and offered you his hand, "How about we get out of here and give it a proper listen?"

You hesitated for a second before taking it. His hand was warm, fingers firm against your own, and you felt the uninvited familiarity of those damn butterflies.

"I think I'd love that," you answered with a small smile that reflected in his eyes.

You hesitated for a second before taking it. His hand was warm, fingers firm against your own, and you felt the uninvited familiarity of those damn butterflies.

—-----------------------------------------------------------------

You couldn’t believe he was on your hotel room couch.

His large body sprawled out on the floral pattern, elbow resting on the armrest and head propped up by his hand as he watched you rummage through your luggage. The dull light from the lone lamp in the corner of the room cast long shadows across his features, accentuating his strong jawline and nose.

"Got it," you exclaimed, triumphantly holding up the vinyl.

He looked over at you with eager eyes, a smile playing on his lips.

You placed the small record player on the table next to the couch, carefully placing the record on the turntable and lowering the needle. The crackle of anticipation filled the room as the music began to play. You sat down on the couch next to Frankie, his presence a warm and reassuring closeness in the low-lit room. The opening notes of "Big Barn Bed" flooded into the room.

"I can try to skip it to 'My Love' if you want me to." You suggested.

"No, I like it. I like it a lot," he replied, his eyes fixed on you.

The two of you sat in silence as the song played, the air between you thick with tension. As the last notes of the song faded away, you turned to look at Frankie, your eyes meeting his.

"What do you think?" You asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

His gaze remained steady on your face, the corners of his mouth twitching into a soft smile. "I think," he began, his voice matching yours in its whisper-soft delivery, "I think I needed this...a little bit of music, a little bit of normality. And you."

"I needed this too," you admitted softly.

His hand found yours on the couch, fingers entwining with a comforting familiarity. The intimacy of the moment sent a swell of warmth through your body.

Frankie's gaze never left yours as he leaned in closer, his eyes searching yours for permission. You found yourself holding your breath, your heart pounding against your chest as he closed the distance between you.

His lips met yours in a soft, slow kiss that made your head spin.

"Is this okay?" he murmured against your lips, pulling back slightly to study your expression.

"Yes," you wrapped your hands around his neck. "It's more than okay."

Your lips met again, deepening the kiss and asking for more. He tasted like smokey liquor and cigarettes

His arms tightened around you, pulling you closer, your bodies molding together on that floral pattern couch.

You moved to straddle him on the couch, the flowing skirt from your mini-dress bunching up around your waist as you moved.

Frankie's hands came to rest on your hips, thumbs tracing small circles through the thin fabric of your dress. Looking into your eyes for permission, he started to slowly lift the hem, his touch on your bare skin.

Your hands drifted to his hair, tangling your fingers in the dark curls and removing his hat. There was an urgency in his movements now, a raw need that echoed your own.

His lips, hot and insistent, traced a path down your neck and you began to move against him, riding out the want building within you.

Without hesitation, he lifted you from the couch and carried you to the spacious bed on the other side of the room. He laid you down gently and you lifted your arms, allowing him to carefully pull the dress over your head and toss it aside. His eyes raked over your bare body, your breasts exposed to his intense gaze.

"Took my damn breath away," he murmured. He removed his clothes except for his underwear, exposing his tanned chest and soft belly.

Then, with a gentle push, he allowed himself to be pulled down onto the bed next to you, both of you inhaling sharply as skin met skin. His hand traced a gentle path from your shoulder down to your waist, ending his trail between your legs.

His thumb found your swollen clit, gently circling it. Your hips bucked in response, a soft moan escaping your lips. His fingers slipped lower, sliding into you with ease. His eyes stayed locked on yours the entire time, drinking in every reaction, every shudder of pleasure that coursed through you.

Your hand found his hard length, trapped in the fabric of his underwear. Without a pause, you slipped your hand within the elastic band and drew him out.

A low, guttural moan came out of him as you stroked his thick cock, pre-cum already beading at the tip.

"You're gonna kill me," he growled, his hips thrusting involuntarily into your touch.

He shallowly thrust his thick fingers inside you, matching the rhythm of your hand on him. Your soft moans filled the room, mingling with the faint strains of the next song on the vinyl.

When you came, his mouth found yours again, swallowing your gasps and moans as he helped you come down. His thumb was still gently circling your clit.

He removed his fingers from you and gripped your wrist, gently but firmly. His eyes searched yours, a silent question written on his features. You nodded, understanding his need.

Your bodies shifted on the soft bed sheets, Frankie positioning himself between your legs. He leaned in close, his lips brushing against yours.

"Tell me you want this," he whispered.

"I want this." Your words were breathless, barely audible.

He slid into you slowly, filling you completely. Your fingers dug into the muscles of his back as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, groaning against your skin.

"Oh fuck," he grunted.

The feeling of him inside you was unreal, his thick length stretching and filling you in ways that nobody had ever done before. He slowly inched himself into you until he bottomed out, and for a moment the two of you just stayed there, breathing each other in; the whiskey, the weed, the road. You both smelled the same but also so different, and you both wanted to know more.

"Fuck, baby." He breathed.

And then he began to move. His hips rocked back and forth in a steady rhythm, his cock gliding in and out of you. You matched his rhythm, wrapping your legs around his waist and urging him deeper.

You both moved together, lost in the sensation of each other's bodies. The sound of skin slapping skin filled the air, mixed with the faint music still drifting in from the record player.

He lifted his head, his gaze fixed on yours as he continued his slow thrusts. His hands roamed your body, squeezing and pinching your breasts and ass, exploring every inch of you.

You gripped the back of his neck, pulling him down into a passionate kiss. His tongue traced your lips before entering your mouth, deepening the kiss.

His pace began to quicken, the friction between you building. His cock filled you completely, hitting all the right spots, and the pleasure was almost overwhelming.

"Fuck, I'm so close." He grunted, his hands gripping your hips as he thrust deeper.

He reached between your bodies, his thumb finding your clit again and applying the perfect amount of pressure.

It was enough to send you over the edge. Your orgasm washed over you in waves, his name tumbling from your lips as you clung to him.

He came a few seconds later, his cock throbbing inside you and spilling his cum into you.

"Fuck." His forehead pressed against yours, his breathing ragged.

He rolled off you and lay down on the bed beside you, the both of you coming down from your high. He pulled you close, your head resting on his chest.

The record was still spinning, the soft crackle of the vinyl the only sound in the room.

"Holy shit." You murmured, trailing your fingers along his chest.

He nodded, a crooked smile tugging at his lips. "Yeah. Holy shit."

You both laughed, the tension in the air broken by mutual satisfaction, what felt like a great exhale to your tension. You rested your chin on his chest, gazing up at him.

"Thank you," you whispered, suddenly feeling shy.

"For what?" He raised an eyebrow.

"For... well, for everything. For tonight, and for just being you." You smiled at him.

He grinned, his hand coming up to cup your cheek. "Thank you, too. This was the best night I've had in a long time."

You leaned into his touch, your eyes closing briefly. "Me, too."

The two of you lay in silence for a while, content to just be close. His arm was wrapped around your shoulders, his fingers idly playing with your hair.

"Frankie..." You whispered.

"Hmm?" He responded, his voice soft.

"If you're tired, you can stay..." You trailed off, suddenly unsure of yourself. Maybe this was all too forward?

He pulled you closer, planting a kiss on the top of your head. "I'd like that," he murmured, his eyes already beginning to droop closed.

You smiled, snuggling closer to him and feeling his heartbeat against your skin. The night had ended up being more than either of you expected, and it seemed the morning would be no different.

The two of you fell asleep, tangled together, as the vinyl record finally stopped spinning and the night came to a quiet end.

68 notes · View notes

obimaulartfire · 9 months

Text

Do you ever just...wake up and think about how Obi-wan was, for most of his life, Maul's reason to live?

Let me explain, and this is one of the main reasons I was drawn to ObiMaul in the first place. (long ramble below)

We're all aware of the events at the reactor fight, and it'd be an understatement to say it was a very hostile first encounter. But it's in the aftermath where the dynamic gets interesting.

Maul survived on his own, for years, with only his top half. As a former biology major, sometimes I think about how possible this would be in real life, if at all. It would be insanely uncomfortable at best, and impossible at worst. But through the excruciating pain, Maul survived, fueled purely by his intense hatred/obsession with Kenobi (and some star wars darkside magic, I'm sure).

Maul says this himself when first meeting Obi-wan again in season 4 of The Clone Wars:

"You would never imagine the depths I'd go to to stay alive, fueled by my singular hatred...for you."

Imagine being on the brink of death, with half of your circulatory system GONE, your heart beating irregularly, and your "lower half" being in constant pain, but still finding something to live for, and living...for YEARS. That's impressive. Hate-filled or not, it's hard to deny that for that time, thoughts of Obi-wan literally kept Maul alive for a decade.

Maul comes back to the series having been left for dead by Sidious, with spider legs he made himself, and no sense of time and a destroyed sense of sanity. Yet, he lives.

And additionally, revenge on Sidious is only second in his thoughts to his revenge on Obi-wan, even though Sidious is technically the one who left him for dead. Since Maul can't sit still, he did many other things during the Clone Wars in accordance with his own ambitions, likely to attempt to reclaim that part of his life that had been lost to Lotho Minor, but that's a tangent for another post.

He gets revenge on Obi-wan (I guess) by killing Satine, but even that isn't enough for him, as evidenced by the Satine hate shrine that we see in Rebels, when Ezra visits Maul's cave on Dathomir:

(on a side note, there is no sane heterosexual explanation for this^, I'm sorry/j)

Why would you keep a memento of someone you've killed? Why would you cross out their eyes? Maul didn't hate Satine that much, and it's my opinion that he did this because she was important to Obi-wan.

And that brings me to my next point: Rebels Maul

Y'all.... there's a reason the title of my blog is "Twin Suns Changed My Brain Chemistry", because I vaguely had feelings about these two in Clone Wars, but Rebels really cemented this dynamic for me.

I cannot emphasize enough that in Rebels, Maul thinks Obi-wan Kenobi is dead. Whether he got killed in Order 66 or when Vader and the Inquisitors started purging Force Users, there was maybe a .000001% chance that any Jedi, especially Obi-wan, would have survived that. And yet. When we enter Rebels, we find Maul on Malachor, stuck on the planet looking for the Sith holocron.

WHY is he trying to find the Sith holocron? In Maul's own words:

"As for me, I...seek something much simpler, yet equally elusive... Hope."

Hope? That surely isn't a Sith ideal. It's revealed later that the only reason Maul wants to combine these ancient artifacts is to learn whether or not Obi-wan Kenobi is alive. I shit you not.

This implies that Maul has had Hope that Obi-wan has been alive for what... 15 years? That's a long time. At this point, Maul may be like, 49 or 50. He has been fixated on Obi-wan for 30 years of his life. Thoughts of Obi-wan kept him going and going and going for 3/5ths of his life. Even when he thinks Obi-wan has died, he spends 15 years trying to find him, just hoping that he is alive. But for what?

It's unclear to me what Maul, in canon, really desires from Obi-wan. But one thing for sure is that Obi-wan acts as a...source of emotions for Maul. A source of feelings, and a reason to keep going through times that other characters would give up.

Other characters may have survived, but Maul lived because of Obi-wan. Through being bisected, the Clone Wars, being chased by Vader and the Inquisitors, and through periods of despair.

And before the end, he just wants to find his reason to live again, and dies in his arms.

#obimaul #obi wan x maul #i've been writing this for hours #i just have a lot of feelings #star wars headcanons #long post #sw rebels #swtcw #darth maul #obiwan kenobi #i'm so afraid to put my thoughts out there but tumblr is the perfect platform for that so #one day i really hope to capture the raw emotion in this duo bc i crave it and there's not a lot of content out there like that #thank you for coming to my ted talk

169 notes · View notes

gffa · 1 year

Photo

Aww, you're too nice to me, thank you!! I’ve mostly seen commentary in the same vein and I understand why, so many of us are sitting here like :| and braced for the worst interpretations, because Ahsoka’s character is often polarized and Jedi discussion is often polarized. Pitting them against each other, probably leaves a lot of people not wanting to touch it with a ten foot pole. For me, I think I have to establish my view of Ahsoka’s character in the first place and where she’s at at this point in time: She left the Jedi Order because she couldn’t trust herself or the Council, she needed time away to consider what she wanted and she wasn’t ready to really deal with all of that. Out of all of the Jedi, I think Ahsoka has the strongest reason to be angry and hurt about the war and the relationship the Jedi have with the Republic, because she was such a victim of the whole thing. She was the one who Tarkin set his sights on, she was the one who was framed and put on trial, she was the one who had the bonds between herself and her family ripped apart because the weight of the entire government came down on them. Everyone made mistakes in that arc, everyone did what they thought was best. No one was perfect in that arc--Ahsoka didn’t trust anyone and that mistrust isn’t what saved her, it was Anakin’s actions that saved her. Ahsoka immediately didn’t trust anyone to help her, didn’t even try to contact them, was hurt that Anakin didn’t come to see her, even when he pointed out that would have made it worse for her. And he’s right, but that doesn’t negate that she was left all alone. The Jedi tried desperately to keep everything with Ahsoka in house, but their hands were forced, the other road would have been worse, but that doesn’t negate that she was left all alone. Obi-Wan says in the Crystal Crisis arc that they all made mistakes, that Ahsoka let her emotions cloud her judgement in her most critical moment, and I think that’s both spot on (that’s why she left, because she realized she couldn’t trust herself, that’s why she was so hesitant to help with Maul because she still wasn’t there yet) and informs much of what Obi-Wan sees with her.

Ahsoka isn’t being fair in her treatment of Obi-Wan. She’s angry about what happened with Barriss, she’s angry about what happened with the Jedi, she’s angry about them being drawn into this war that hurt her so terribly on such a personal level, she’s angry that she feels obligated to work with the Jedi again when she’s not ready.

When you look at Ahsoka’s arguments, they tend to fall apart pretty quickly--she’s angry that the Jedi want to help the people on Coruscant? The heart of the Republic? Where trillions of people live? Where Trace and Rafa live? The two characters she just met who informed so much of what she wants to be as a Jedi? Or how she entirely ignores that the Republic’s treaties with Mandalore mean that this is an invasion and politics have genuine consequences in Star Wars, you can’t just invade other countries! And she’s being unfair about how she’s making it clear that she’s not a Jedi, she’s a citizen, but then turns around and wants to be privy to classified information that only Jedi agents should have. This isn’t to come down on Ahsoka, because these things make me like her more, these things make my heart ache for her, because I see her as a young woman who was thrown back into a situation she wasn’t ready for and she’s doing her absolute damnedest to be professional about it. But this is her family, these are the people she loves underneath it all, this is Anakin who so badly wants her to come back and is kind of stepping all over her boundaries--he even reworks her lightsabers to change the crystal’s color! It’s such a sweet gesture! But it’s also So Very Much before she’s ready for it. It’s so clear that he thinks she’s coming back and everything will be like it was before and she’s just not sure, so she has to be the one to set down boundaries with him and that’s another thing that tears at her heart.

That’s why I think she’s so gentle when Mace lobs the “Citizen.” remark back at her, because I don’t think she was angry about that, she doesn’t respond angrily at all, but almost relieved. It’s a tense moment, but he’s holding her boundary for her, it’s a reminder that she’s not ready to be back yet and I think part of her might have been grateful for it, because she’s so mixed up about what she wants and who she is at this point. Then you have the scene with Obi-Wan and I think she probably was angry with him, both because he was on the Council and she’s still mad at them, but also because this is Obi-Wan and she knows him, she loves him, he’s tearing at her heart and making her want to come back and that’s more confusing feelings. And he probably seems so calm and collected, all the more so when this is dealing with something that has deeply personal meaning for him because of Satine, while she feels jumbled up and unsteady. Her emotions are still threatening to cloud her judgment, and then he’s there saying he’ll refuse to do so, and it’s hard not to feel a riot of emotions about that. But also she knows he cares, she trusts him with her message to Anakin, she doesn’t even have to spell it out, because she knows that Obi-Wan knows. And I think some part of her treats Obi-Wan the way Anakin does--she’s being unfair with him because she knows he’s a rock that will weather her storm. Even when they’re clashing, she trusts him to understand her and her feelings and where she’s coming from. She trusts him to be there even when they fight.

With Obi-Wan, he’s also having a really rough time of it because he’s got a real shitshow on his hands--he has everything with Satine’s memory here, he has a political shitstorm with the invasion of Mandalore they’re doing, he has Anakin’s unstable moods and Anakin emotionally zipping off to be like, “I knew! I knew there was a reason why everything happened, it was meant to!” and undercurrent of mania, and he has his own guilt about what happened with Ahsoka, while also recognizing that the other roads probably would have been worse and that she’s allowed her upset feelings. I do think Obi-Wan is probably frustrated and disappointed with Ahsoka, because she’s coming from an emotional place in the sense of letting it cloud her view of the reality of the situation, and they can’t afford that right now. And I think he’s frustrated that she’s not being fair about this, because what’s he supposed to do in response to her? They’re in the middle of a war and this is why Jedi train their whole lives, because people’s lives are on the line, they have to be clear and focused or people will die. They have to make hard choices because they’ve been put in a position of responsibility and wishing circumstances were less shitty doesn’t actually make the war any less shitty. They still have to protect the trillion innocent people who live on Coruscant, they can’t just abandon them because it wouldn’t be the most popular decision. At the same time, he understands where she’s coming from, that she’s hurt about everything and she’s not ready for this and yet she still came to help anyway. And I think he’s probably frustrated that she’s implying that he’s the one being obstinate and not helping, when the situation is nowhere near as clear-cut as Bo-Katan tries to say it is, he’s perfectly willing to compromise when offered an acceptable path to helping both Mandalore and Coruscant, after all. But also he loves her and he knows that she’s a caring, good person, he doesn’t even have to ask what her message to Anakin is, he knows. He’s even willing to tell her about his concerns about Anakin and his mission to spy on Palpatine, he asks her to speak with Anakin, asks for her help, because he knows how important she is.

I don’t think Obi-Wan was as open or reaching out as much as he theoretically could be, but like Ahsoka, he’s going through A Lot right now and has a ton on his plate and none of them are really ready to deal with that while everything is still in flames around them. But it’s also why they end on soft notes with each other, because they know that they’re both important to Anakin, that Anakin is important to both of them, that the Jedi are important to both of them, that they’re important to each other. And boy does it hurt that neither of them can see what’s coming with Anakin, that they’re both unable to see that he’s on the verge of falling.

But that’s how people who love each other are. That’s how family is with each other--they get frustrated and upset and needle each other and disappointed in each other because they love each other. And I think you see that all throughout Obi-Wan and Ahsoka’s scenes, they’re both characters who have made mistakes and aren’t at their calmest here, they’re tense with each other, but it’s coming from a place of deep caring about everyone in that room.

I think they both acted the way they did because they thought they would have time to sort it out, they trusted that their family would be there when they had that time. Ahsoka puts off catching up with Anakin because she’s not ready yet and there’ll be time later. Ahsoka and Obi-Wan needle each other because they’re frustrated and there’ll be time to come back together later. Ahsoka says softly, “Not yet.” when Yoda asks if she’s going to be a Jedi again, she looks so hopeful when talking to Rex about the end of the war and she can come back to the Jedi in a way she trusts, she really thought there would be more time. Obi-Wan says they’re close to the end of the war, he’s off to defeat Grievous finally, this was supposed to be the end, there would be time for the slow, long repair of their relationships. They act the way they do because they weren’t ready to let everything go just yet, not because they didn’t care. They thought there would be more time.

#obi wan kenobi #anakin skywalker #ahsoka tano #meta #long post

421 notes · View notes

vonnart · 7 months

Text

XXXIV - Annual Birthday Self Portrait 🎂 Here is this year’s annual birthday self portrait and reflection piece! Below are the previous ones i've drawn throughout the years!

This drawing reflects the last year of my existence and on my previous birthday, I had both the best day of my life and the worst. I had an extremely traumatic psychedelic experience where i was convinced i had died for the first 2 and a half hours. It was intense and surreal, making connections to what the afterlife was and it was like none of the religions or theories had taught us. It was just returning to matter, still conscious but unable to grasp reality or have any say or control. An unnerving feeling of numbness and the inability to function. After collapsing multiple times from the rigor mortis i told myself I was experiencing, I was confused why i could still see and interpret anything. After some processing on the floor, I made a mental shift and thought: “Maybe the afterlife was like a turnable dial and because I was afraid, it unintentionally turned it a bad direction”. I was clearly in a negative plane of existence so I turned this mental dial in a more positive direction. “Maybe the afterlife is whatever you want it to be.” So I entered into what i thought was a projection of my own idea of what heaven was.

Almost instantly, I felt the sensation of unrivaled elation. I wasn’t at the pearly gates, an astral projection amongst the stars, or a foggy cloud representing a soul. I was still in my body and everything around me looked normal, which oddly seemed strange. “But why would i be in my house?" Maybe my mind is still processing being dead so instead it’s projecting what is familiar and comfortable OR OH maybe because heaven is wherever you would want to be the most! And this house is literally my favorite place on earth. And then I saw my bf Josh and wondered “Why would Josh be here when i could make any celebrity or crush I've had in my life to be the projection of a guide in this afterlife?" OH okay, because there truly isn't anyone I would want to help me through the early stages of accepting what’s after death!

This pattern of thoughts and answering them in my strange sense of being keep on a loop for about 5 hours and letting go of each physical attachment to the world was euphoric. No more fear of having to make money, keep up with work, pain or stress, worries about war or the state of the world, and most importantly, never having to fear dying again. I had never felt this light before. I let go of all of it completely and somehow, at the same time, felt incredibly connected to everything in a way that I can’t quite put into words. And the best part is that I kept reminding myself that I get to feel this feeling forever!!

Later that night I wanted to see if you could nap in the afterlife, and when I opened my eyes, I no longer was in that dream state. I was horribly confused and conflicted. I was actually disappointed I was still alive as that projected afterlife was the most beautiful sensation I may ever experience. The weeks that followed became a constant fear of questioning reality and developing pretty bad insomnia. I was afraid of learning that I still might be dead but I couldn’t have any way to prove it. It ended up being rather painful for about 4 months. My friends, family, and parents really helped ground me back to earth and I am so thankful for them. I’ve been reading a lot of books that explore consciousness and it’s been helping immensely.

So now, I feel like I’m seeing the world again for the first time through fresh lens of perspective. Being alive is the greatest sensation that I was taking for granted. I did develop my first actual fear in life, and like many, it’s the fear of dying. And that feeling is so strong because I enjoy being alive SO much, I really, really love it! The ups and downs, the connections and lessons. Everything is so delicate and precious and I’m making sure to handle it better these days. Here’s to 34 and it’s pretty safe to say I’m looking to make it a more calm and peaceful one!

#vonnart #drawing #art #artist #pencil art #pencil drawing #original art #traditional drawing #self portrait

72 notes · View notes

wanderer-six · 1 year

Text

Across the Stars (for @loving-the-cambridges)

AN: this is my story for the CLONE FIC GIFT EXCHANGE @cloneficgiftexchange! I had so much fun participating in this and really hope another happens soon💖 this one got super long but nonetheless I hope you enjoy!! (also big shoutout to @starrylothcat for beta reading!!)

Relationships: Commander Cody x Royal Fem!Reader

Summary: Commander Cody had hoped that being assigned as security detail for a royal gala would be nothing more than a mundane distraction from the war. But when Separatists attempt to assassinate the you, the princess, he's forced to take you into hiding--and forced to reevaluate his priorities.

Prompts: "I didn't mean to throw you off your feet"; "Are you going to stay"

NSFW (MINORS DNI) WARNINGS: eventual smut (pretty vague, but includes oral (f! receiving), unprotected piv sex)

Word Count: 9.2k (SORRY)

Cody was rarely one to complain about assignments, but for gala detail, he would make an exception.

The night was young, and Cody grew older by the moment as every high society aristocrat passed him by on their way into the ballroom. Not one of them so much as acknowledged his presence, and frankly, he preferred it that way. Fox had told Cody his fair share of stories—tales of shepherding senators who’d no more faced the horrors of war than any hardship in life. On any other occasion, this should’ve been Fox’s jurisdiction in the first place: no world had the privilege of constant political parties more than Coruscant, after all.

But it seemed the fates had cruel intentions for Cody. This particular gathering was not to take place in the heart of the galaxy, but rather, a Mid-Rim planet he and his men were in near enough proximity to after their latest battle. Cody had tried to argue that their efforts were best spent elsewhere—fighting the war, for one. But high command in the Republic demanded the presence of the 212th at this event, and without General Kenobi there to argue on his behalf, Cody and his men were forced to comply with the order.

But it was just for the night, he reminded himself. He winced beneath his helmet as yet another couple entered the ballroom, dressed in robes so costly they could fund a whole battalion of his brothers.

Just for the night.

Cody activated the communicator in his helmet.

“Status report,” he spoke.

He’d called for a status report not even thirty minutes prior, but he felt compelled to do so again. Not out of any concern of attack—just so he could be certain the men were still awake.

He was struggling, as it was.

“All clear from the northern balcony,” came a reply.

“No trouble in the shipyard.”

“The gardens are still as boring as they were when we got here.”

The slightest smirk found Cody’s lips.

“Affirmative. Keep your eyes peeled. And open,” he asserted. “We’re just here for the night. You’ll be back to blasting clankers before you know it.”

An unenthused “sir, yes sir” followed in a chorus over his comms, and Cody sighed. He glanced up at the stained glass ceiling hanging over the ballroom, seeing the moon rise ever higher beyond it.

Just for the night.

The active chatter of the crowd in the ballroom fell all at once to a murmur, and Cody hadn’t the slightest idea why. He stood taller than his already perfect posture, trying not to appear out of sorts as he sought out what had drawn the room’s attention.

The briefing for this assignment had mentioned precious little about the purpose of this gala, and it had certainly neglected any note of the princess hosting it. But when you emerged through the massive ballroom doors, Cody grew transfixed just as everyone had.

From atop the grand staircase, you possessed the eyes of every noble in attendance. Your long gown flowed with every step of your descent, its simple design never once distracting from the perfect poise with which you carried yourself. A crystalline tiara glittered atop your head, earning glances of envy from the crowd, but Cody hardly noticed it; he was much too distracted by the radiant eyes beneath it.

In the midst of your angelic descent to the ballroom floor, Cody overheard a pair of nobles whispering somewhere on his flank.

“The princess is here?” one of them asked in hushed tones.

“Of course she is,” replied another, “it’s her gala.”

“I know that! It’s just… is it truly safe for her to be here? If the Separatists knew—”

“—then what? They’d be foolish to try something.”

As you landed on the final step, you did something no one else had dared to do the entire evening. You glanced at the clone commander standing guard by the bannister, meeting him with a shy smile he would remember for the rest of his life.

As quickly as the moment had begun, the night returned to normal. The regular commotion resumed as you were swept into the awaiting crowd, greeted by politicians and royals alike, all while Cody remained frozen in time. Admittedly, Cody was not the most sociable man, even by the standard of the clones. Never in his life, in all the planets he had visited, had he seen a woman as remarkable as you. He honestly wasn’t even sure how to respond to it all—the fluttering in his stomach and the burning beneath his cheeks.

A quiet sigh passed his lips. As if there was anything to do besides remain in place. He could be the most charismatic man in the galaxy, and it wouldn’t matter. There was more that stood between him and you than his own gracelessness. A soldier speaking to a princess would be shut down well before he began fumbling the conversation.

So, he stayed in place, perfectly unassuming, trying to stifle the wish to get one more glance at you. Waiting.

Just for the night.

“Commander… we might have a problem.”

The chirp of Cody’s commlink brought him out of his silent moping. He pressed his fingers to his helmet.

“What is it?” he asked.

A pause. No reply. Cody nearly called in again, when another soldier called in.

“Commander! We have hostiles approaching from the northern ridge!”

“Close ranks! We’re being overrun!”

Cody opened his mouth to give orders, when suddenly, the stained glass dome above the ballroom shattered. In the glow of the moon, a fleet of droids crashed through the ceiling, landing among the nobles below. The ballroom erupted into chaos, nobles running and screaming as the droids readied their weapons.

“This planet is under Separatist control!” cried a battle droid as it paced among the crowd. “We demand that the princess be brought to us for immediate execution!”

Execution?

Cody sprung to action, scanning through the crowd, hoping to find you before the droids could. At last, his eyes spotted the sparkling tiara in the sea of panicked nobles. Try as you might to move to safety, too many shoving partygoers kept you locked in place.

And what was worse was the imposing shadow of a B2 battle droid stalking up behind you, growing closer by the second.

Barging through the crowd, Cody sprinted to your position. The B2 stopped in place a few paces from you, slowly lifting its arm into firing position. Cody’s eyes shot wide.

“Princess!” he shouted.

He barely managed to catch your attention before breaking through the mob, collapsing upon you just as the B2 fired its wrist rocket.

The two of you crashed to the ground, Cody doing his best to keep you in his arms and shield you from the heat of the explosion. When the blast faded, he pulled away, quickly getting to his feet and helping you do the same.

“Princess, it’s not safe here,” Cody called over the commotion. “We need to go!”

The frazzled, frightened face that looked back at him made his heart ache. But the small, half-lucid nod you gave him was enough for him. He kept your hand in his as he began guiding you to safety.

The two of you ran, Cody steering you away from any possible threat. As he pulled you up the grand staircase you’d entered from, he triggered his commlink.

“This is Commander Cody; I have the princess,” he spoke. “We are moving for evacuation. Hold out as long as you can!”

As he burst through the ballroom doors, he turned sharply down an adjacent hallway, looking over his shoulder at you.

“Princess, what’s the fastest way to the landing platform?” he called. For a moment, you were too dazed to answer, and Cody’s brow furrowed. “Stay with me, Princess. The landing platform?”

“Take… take the next left,” you answered at last. Your voice was soft—far too soft for what you’d endured that night. “There’s a ship on the landing platform… my ship—we can use that.”

Cody nodded firmly, following your instructions to the letter. Through the echoed sounds of attack, you and Cody emerged onto the landing platform, where a small golden vessel awaited you. Cody wasn’t worried about where the two of you were headed—for now, offworld was all that mattered.

Together, you boarded your starship. Once Cody ensured you were situated in the ship’s living quarters, he rushed to the cockpit. Before the droids could grow wise to where you’d run off to, he picked the ship off the ground, navigating to the temporary reprieve of hyperspace.

, , ,

“Troubling news, this is…”

Cody stood in the cockpit of your ship, looking upon holograms of the two Master Jedi to whom he relayed the news. It was rare he had an audience with Master Yoda, but General Kenobi’s presence was familiar.

“More than troubling,” General Kenobi agreed. “To attack a peaceful gathering entirely unprovoked… the Separatists have gotten bolder.”

Master Yoda nodded, his chin clutched between his fingers. “Indeed. What they were seeking, I wonder?”

“I believe I can answer that, General,” Cody spoke at last. “Assassinating the princess seems to be the likely motivation. If the Separatists were to install their own leader, the planet would act as an important staging ground for future attacks on the Mid-Rim.”

“And save her, you did?”

“Yes, sir,” Cody confirmed. “She’s in stable condition aboard this vessel.”

Cody’s eyes lingered to the living quarters of the ship, where you had been since the two of you fled the planet. You’d kept quiet so far, unmoving from the bench you sat on. It struck Cody with an inexplicable worry.

“Good. Make sure she remains that way,” General Kenobi instructed. “The Separatists will be hunting her even now. You’ll need to ensure they aren’t able to find her.”

“Undercover, you must go,” Master Yoda added. “Refuge, on a nearby planet, must you seek. Until the princess’s planet, liberated, it is.”

Cody’s jaw tensed.

“And… how long will it take to muster enough forces and reclaim her world?” he asked.

“We believe we will have the required numbers in ten rotations,” General Kenobi answered.

Ten rotations?

Cody stifled his surprise, masking his uncertainty with his usual stoic expression.

“Understood, General,” he answered with a curt nod.

“Good,” General Kenobi answered. “Until we contact you, keep a low profile. And do not let anything happen to her.”

“That will be all, Commander,” Master Yoda said. The slightest smile appeared on the corners of his lips as he added, “May the Force be with you.”

The holograms before him dissipated, leaving Cody alone. He released the heavy sigh that he’d harbored in his chest. Ten rotations. To think that hours ago, this had been a mere pit stop on his way back to Coruscant, where he could await redeployment to a battlefront in need of his support. Now, it had become a full-fledged mission of its own…

Again, Cody glanced towards the back hold, seeing that you still hadn’t budged from where you sat. You stared hard at nothing, but he could tell that the violence of the droid army still flashed before your eyes. A wave of guilt washed over the commander. For him, this was just another assignment in years of war. But for you, your entire life had changed—taken from you with no warning and no remorse. If ten rotations was truly all it would take to see your world returned to you, it would be a blessing.

Treading quietly, Cody approached you. As he grew closer, he could make out more and more lesions on your skin. He tried not to grimace, but the sight of injuries on someone so beautiful ate at him. Though he was thankful you were still alive, he faulted himself for not being able to protect you from all the harm you’d endured that night.

“Princess…” he began. Immediately, you blinked out of your stupor, turning your attention to him. “I’ve received word that the Republic will be mounting a campaign to retake your world. But in the meantime, we’ll need to take you into hiding to ensure there are no more threats to your life.”

Your shoulders slumped.

“I see,” you murmured. “For how long?”

“We’re estimating around ten rotations.”

“Oh.”

It didn’t take a Jedi to discern the worry on your face, but in short order, you put on a smile. Right away, Cody knew it looked wrong—polite, pretty, but not at all real. Not anything like the warm smile you’d shown him when you first passed by him.

“Thank you, sir, for informing me,” you said.

Your gaze fell to the floor, and the smile you’d forced onto your features fell along with it. Cody thought to take his leave, but couldn’t. Not yet. He didn’t want to abandon you in an empty hold, on a ship with an unknown soldier, to remain all by your lonesome. If he’d learned one thing from General Kenobi’s leadership, it was just how far a modicum of kindness could take you.

And for you, he could certainly be kind.

“Are you… all right?” he asked. His stilted voice made him wince. He hoped you didn’t take his rigidness as disrespect—he just wasn’t used to this. Any of it.

You offered a weak nod in response.

“I’ll be fine,” you assured him. “I… I think I’m still a bit out of sorts, is all. Thank you for your concern.”

Cody took a seat beside you on the bench—though making sure to keep an overly respectful distance from you.

“It… must be hard for you. Leaving your home behind so suddenly,” he continued.

You shook your head halfheartedly.

“I’m not worried about me. I’m worried about my people,” you sighed. “We’ve resisted Separatist occupation for so long. I shouldn’t be in hiding while they suffer.”

Cody watched you as your hands trembled, your brow knit with worry. The pain you held ran deeper than your wounds from the attack, and that much was obvious even to him. Cody solved his problems with a blaster more often than he did with words, but for you, he felt compelled to try.

“If it means anything, Princess… I’m sure your people are just as concerned for your well-being,” Cody spoke at last. Your gaze met his once more, and the sincerity in your eyes nearly paralyzed him. He dashed his nervousness with an awkward cough. “The Republic values your world and your people. As soon as the necessary forces are able to deploy, I have complete confidence that you will be returned home with no further struggles against the Separatists. We won’t let you down, Princess.”

The hold fell silent. Your eyes, sparkling in the glow of hyperspace, peered into his. Although his sheepishness begged him to look away, he stared back at you. When at last a small grin formed on your lips, Cody wasn’t sure whether to feel relieved or petrified.

“... I don’t believe you ever told me your name, sir,” you mentioned.

Cody gave an awkward nod. “It’s… Commander Cody, your highness.”

Your smile widened.

“Cody…” you repeated. The sound of his name on your lips made Cody’s face burn. “I’m thankful to have your company through all of this. I can’t imagine how much worse things could have been without your intervention. I owe you my life.”

In all his time on the front lines of this war, Cody had rarely been thanked. He never expected to be—he was quite literally born for this conflict, so gratitude was far from necessary. But knowing for once that his actions had meaning—that he was valued not merely as part of an army, but as an individual… it made his chest ache.

His gaze broke from yours, glancing away in hopes of slowing his rapid pulse.

“Of course, Princess. It’s what we’re here for,” he assured you. “Though… I should apologize.”

You tilt your head. “What for?”

His eyes returned to you; when he saw the bruises forming on your arms, he frowned.

“I’ve had better rescues,” he confessed. “I didn’t mean to throw you off your feet like that. I should’ve been more careful.”

To his surprise, a gentle laugh escaped you. He grimaced, wondering if he’d said something wrong. With a shake of your head, you rested your hand on his shoulder.

“Cody… a few bruises are no cost at all for staying alive to wear them,” you assured him. “I’d prefer getting knocked over by you to becoming a victim of the Separatists any day.”

The warmth of your touch and your smile seeped through Cody’s armor. Suddenly, the prospect of spending a few rotations ensuring your safety no longer troubled him so much. “Well… good,” he said. “Though, if you don’t mind, I’d prefer not to make a habit of barging into you—whether or not you prefer it.”

You beamed. Cody swore he saw the faintest blush on your cheeks.

“Just for special occasions, then?” you teased.

Cody chuckled, allowing his guard to drop for the first time that evening.

“If that’s what you want to call it… sure,” he replied.

Something about the kindness you showed him made the war feel so distant, even in spite of all it had taken to get the two of you here. At your side, maybe ten rotations would feel like no time at all.

In the back of his mind, a small part of Cody even wondered if ten rotations was long enough.

, , ,

The transition to life on a quiet planet hadn’t been kind to either of you, but thankfully, having one another meant the struggle was not so overwhelming. Cody had taken a number of precautions from the moment you touched down—finding accommodations far from the nearest town center and ensuring that as few locals as possible even knew of your existence. The two of you had lived there in isolation for a few days now, in a little domicile out in the woodlands. And while those first few days were tense with worry, they were thankfully uneventful.

At first, Cody had tried to keep himself distant from you. He had little knowledge of what the life of a royal might entail, but something told him that fraternizing with a common soldier was probably considered an etiquette breach of some kind. But despite his attempts at maintaining decorum, every kind gesture made your company irresistible to him. Each time you brewed a pot of caf in the morning, you would offer him a mug. His rations were always tended to before your own. Even at night, you wouldn’t sleep before ensuring there wasn’t something he needed your help with. Compared to his typical soldier’s life, you treated him like royalty—a bit of irony that was far from lost on him.

The uneventful days meant the two of you had ample time to talk. You clearly had experience with speaking, having penned and performed countless speeches on your homeworld. But the way you talked to Cody felt different from any senate address he had ever heard. You spoke so fondly of things you missed from your homeworld, memories that you could glow about for hours. Cody was content to let you, though admittedly, there were times he found his attention drifting from your words—watching instead the way your eyes would glitter, your lips would purse, your cheeks would blush.

Of course, you turned the conversation to him just as often. Cody initially struggled to match your enthusiasm, not one to hold such a romantic memory of most anything. But you quickly found a way through his shell when you landed on the topic of his brothers—the only family he had, and the one he devoted himself fiercely to. Something about your attentive gaze and warm smiles made it easy for Cody to open up to you in a way he had never even considered opening up to anyone else.

Your talks served as such a fitting distraction, in fact, that you barely noticed just how much time had passed the two of you by. Both of you were caught by surprise the day you awoke to no caf left to brew—and hardly any rations, to match.

Faced with the options of going hungry or making the trek to the nearby marketplace for supplies, Cody chose the latter. He had grappled for an hour whether it was wiser to leave you alone in the domicile where you might be safer, but lack his protection. However, you made the decision for him—insisting that you would be joining him no matter what he had to say about it.

He hadn’t been so keen on the idea, at first. But as he watched you browse the bustling farmer’s market, he warmed to it quickly enough.

As the two of you roamed around the marketplace, you stopped for what Cody estimated to be the tenth time in the past hour, taking an interest in a hand-woven tapestry hanging on a stall.

“Hmm…” you hummed, taking in the uniquely knitted fabric.

Cody tilted his head, a smirk on his lips. “Enjoying yourself?”

You returned to his side, grinning up at him.

“I am, thank you,” you returned, speaking in stride as the two of you began walking again. “Have some sympathy, will you? I’m lucky if I get to leave my palace once a cycle.”

When another patron skirted a bit too close for comfort, you didn’t hesitate to walk nearer to Cody’s side. It swelled a strange sense of pride in him, knowing that you trusted him enough to keep you safe. To be your protector. He swore to never make you regret that trust.

“I’m just… trying to act natural,” you continued. “I’ve never had to get supplies for myself, as strange as that is to admit.” You look up at him curiously. “Do you think we stick out at all?”

A dry smirk found Cody’s lips.

“What, a clone and a princess on a planet of farmers? I can’t imagine how we would,” he snarked.

When you donned that sweet, flustered grin, Cody’s smile widened.

“You’re mean,” you teased.

“You make it easy.”

With a roll of your eyes, you checked satchel on your hip.

“Well… since we have almost everything, I don’t think I’ll have to endure your cruelty for much longer, at least,” you pointed out. “I think we’re just missing…”

Before your sentence ended, a clamor from further up in the marketplace interrupted you. Cody placed a hand on your shoulder, holding you close as the scene developed. At first, he could only make out the sight of fleeing patrons and frightened stall owners hastily stowing their merchandise.

But then, that familiar, metallic clanking droned into Cody’s ears, and he knew.

The Separatists were here.

A full squad of droids trampled into view on the dirt road, kicking up clouds of dust behind them. At the center, a B1 barked orders at the civilians.

“Attention, citizens! There is a royal fugitive hiding on your planet. Bring her to us, or face the consequences!”

As the droids advanced, you stiffened. Given the unlikelihood of a different princess running from Separatist forces somewhere on this world, these droids were here for you. And if the two of you didn’t act quickly, they just might find you.

Cody’s eyes narrowed, donning the Commander’s mindset with ease. He reached for your wrist, taking extra care to be gentle in fear of reliving the first time he rescued you.

“This way,” he said, his voice hushed. With deft strides, he led you through the crowd—all of whom seemed far too distracted by the encroaching droids to notice just who was passing by them.

Cody’s eyes scanned the marketplace, and the moment he spotted an alleyway behind a few abandoned stalls, he began formulating an exit strategy. But his swiftly-made plan met almost immediately with challenges. A separate squad of droids approaching from a few dozen meters off prepared to slam his only window of opportunity shut.

With no time to explain, Cody slipped his arm around your waist, sweeping you toward the alleyway alongside him. Just as you entered the shadows, he pressed you against the wall, leaning his hand against the brick surface in such a way that the shawl on his shoulder fully obscured you from the main thoroughfare.

At first, Cody listened closely to the sound of the droids stalking past, counting the paces as their metallic frames shambled down the street. Only when his focus returned to the sight directly in front of him did he realize just how close you were as he loomed over you now.

Years of outmaneuvering droids made the invading Separatists all but mundane. Standing chest to chest with you, his lips a mere tilt of his head from yours… that was what sent his heart racing at lightspeed.

“Ah… a-apologies, Princess,” he murmured, his gaze trying to meet anything but you. He silently chastised himself, unable to imagine how daunted you must feel by his actions.

But it was your touch on his cheek that pulled him back to reality—and the gentle guidance of your hand that pulled his gaze back to yours. The smile you wore drew a blush to his cheeks.

“Cody…” you spoke softly. His name… you made it sound so perfect. “You have nothing to apologize for. I don’t know what I would do if you weren’t here.”

Cody could only hope the droids were long gone, as the only sound he could hear clearly was the pounding pulse in his ears. The weight of your words hit his chest like a speeder, leaving him hopeless to muster any meaningful response.

“...o-of course,” was all he could utter. With all his strength, he found the slightest smile of his own, holding your gaze until he could no longer handle the sight of you without losing sight of himself. “It is my honor to protect you, Princess.”

When at last he looked away, he drew a steadying breath. From the sound of it, the droids outside the alleyway had passed. A relief, but not a great one, since the challenge of escaping the city still remained.

However reluctantly, Cody pulled himself away from you, though keeping a hand on your waist to ensure you stayed at his side. A cautious glance out of the alleyway revealed no additional droids—a promising sign.

“We need to keep moving,” Cody said, staying vigilant as he walked you through the market. “We’re nearly at the edge of town. If we can get clear of the market and into the forest—”

“You! Stop right there!”

The shrill, tinny voice of a battle droid brought Cody to a halt for a mere moment. The rhythmic clanking approached from behind the two of you.

“Identify yourselves, citizens!” the droid hissed as it got nearer. Cody didn’t respond. The droid stalked ever closer. “Are your auditory processors working? Identification—now!”

Cody squeezed your hip, leaning in just close enough for you to hear him whisper.

“Run.”

Abruptly, he released you from his grasp, whirling around and ripping his pistol from its thigh holster along the way. He needed only a split second to spot the droid—and shorter still to fire a shot into its head.

The sound of blaster fire alerted the dozens of other droids scattered around the marketplace, drawing them all in perfect pace to the location of their fallen comrade. Not wanting to give them an easy shot, Cody took off running the same direction you had.

As he ran, he looked ahead, trying but failing to see you—especially now that the blaster fire had stirred the remaining civilians into a frenzy. He kept faith that you’d listened to him and ran, unable to do much more with the droids’ stray blaster bolts ringing by his ears. He darted through the mob, tuning out every distraction—the clamor of the crowd, the dust plumes kicked up by the droids’ blasters...

“Cody!”

Your voice, however, always seemed to get his attention.

Cody locked his legs, sliding to an abrupt halt against the dusty road. He whipped his head in the direction of your voice, and at last, he spotted you taking cover behind a market stall. You waved him over to you, and as he ran, he saw why you’d chosen here, of all places, to wait for him.

Parked beside the stall was an abandoned speeder bike ripe for the taking.

As Cody arrived at your side, he stopped only briefly to set his hand on your shoulder.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

You nodded. “I’m fine. I found this speeder—”

“Already on it,” Cody interjected. Before he turned to the speeder, he handed you his blaster. “Have you ever used one of these?”

“Once or twice. O-Only for ceremonies…”

“Good enough,” he grunted, already on his knees to slice the speeder’s controls. “If any droid gets close, point it and fire.”

Cody tried to ignore the impending march of the clankers, rewiring the bike as quickly as he could manage. He’d nearly cracked it when he heard a blaster bolt ring out at his side, and a metallic pang some dozen meters behind him. He didn’t dare risk a glance over his shoulder to take in your handiwork, but beneath his adrenaline, he felt the smallest tinge of pride.

At last, the speeder’s engine revved to life. Cody got to his feet, finding you standing over the crumpled body of a B1. You gripped his blaster with white knuckles, hands trembling ever so slightly, just waiting for another clanker to try its luck. Biting back a smirk, Cody took the pistol from your hands.

“Nice shot,” he said quickly. With his free hand, he helped sit you on the front of the speeder. “Hold on tight. Once we get moving—”

“Cody, look out!”

You pointed past Cody with wide eyes, and he had barely a moment to follow your gaze as another droid rounded the corner. Just as it raised its blaster and fired, you yanked Cody down by his wrist. The bolt that would’ve been in Cody’s chest instead singed his shoulder, and Cody was glad he was alive to feel the pain that coursed from his wound.

Fumbling for his pistol, Cody fired two shots—managing to drop the droid with the second. But as it fell, even more came to replace it. With gritted teeth, Cody clambered onto the speeder behind you.

“Your shoulder…!” you cried, looking upon his wound with wide eyes.

“I’ll be fine,” he grunted. “Hold on!”

Pushing through his pain, Cody clasped the bike’s handlebars. The engine roared, launching the bike forward and gaining speed by the second. A hail of blasterfire flew around the two of you, and Cody veered as well as he could manage to avoid it. Once the speeder cleared through the treeline, the bolts became fewer and fewer, until at last, none at all chased after you. , , ,

The adrenaline driving Cody subsided little by little on the long ride back to the domicile. By the time the two of you arrived, the stinging wound on his shoulder had begun to ache and burn. Even so, he forced himself to keep his priorities straight—which meant tending to you, first and foremost.

When he parked the speeder, he got to his feet, before reaching his hand down to help you stand. To his surprise, though, you stared back at him in horror.

“Princess…?” he breathed.

Tears welled in the corners of your eyes.

“Cody… w-we need to get inside,” you instructed.

You dismounted the bike, only taking his hand to lead him indoors. You slammed the door behind him, a shaky breath leaving your lips as you sat him down on a chaise in the living quarters. Cody watched you, confused as you began to rifle through cabinets.

“Princess, what’s wrong?” he asked.

You didn’t answer, merely shaking your head. He could see the way your hands trembled as you fished the bacta patches out from one of the cabinets. When you turned to face him again, the glow of the sunset through the windows was just enough to light the tears on your face.

You sat beside him, and before he could say a word, you reached for the collar of his shirt. His chest seized as your nimble fingers ran down his body, too nervous to even breathe. One by one, you unhooked the fasteners, before carefully stripping the fabric from him. Seeing the wound on his shoulder more clearly now only made you cry harder, forcing you to pinch your eyes shut as you prepared a bacta patch.

Realizing now what had you so worked up, Cody found the ghost of a smile.

“Hey… it’s all right,” he promised. “I’ve taken worse hits than this. I’ll be fine.”

You sniffled, wiping away your tears with the back of your hand before carefully affixing the bacta patch to the wound on his shoulder. Your hands lingered there, reddened eyes unmoving from his injury.

Against his better judgment, Cody put his hand on your cheek. Gently, he turned your gaze to meet his.

“Princess, please,” he begged. When more tears slipped from your eyes, he swept them away with his thumb. “Please, tell me what’s wrong.”

Your lips parted slightly, but still, you struggled to speak. Cody’s heart ached at your hesitation; he leaned closer to you, running his thumb softly against your cheekbone. To his relief, you leaned into his touch, sighing and calming down.

“This is all happening because of me,” you confessed at last.

Cody tilted his head. “What do you mean?”

“None of this would’ve happened if the Separatists weren’t hunting me. You… you got hurt because of me.” Despite your best efforts, tears overwhelmed you again. “You could’ve died… and it would’ve been my fault.”

Your sorrow ate away at Cody. Never had he felt this irrepressible instinct—the desire to pull you into his arms, to hold you against his chest and promise you over and over that everything would be all right. He’d make it all right for you. Someone like you didn’t deserve to feel this way… and certainly not on his behalf.

Though he wished he could break that barrier, the most he could manage was placing his other hand against your cheek—cupping your face softly. He gazed into your glassy, beautiful eyes, struggling to find the words to convey everything on his mind.

“Princess…” he began softly, “please, listen to me. None of this is your fault. Believe me, the Separatists have no trouble shooting at me whether or not I’m with you.”

You pouted. “But I—”

Cody pinched your cheek playfully. “Hey. Just listen.”

To his utmost relief, the slightest smile formed on your lips. But though he was glad to see it, it made what he planned to say next all the more difficult.

“If anything… I’m happy I was the one to take a hit today. I don’t know what I would’ve done if something happened to you under my protection,” he continued. His words felt strangled in his throat, and every passing second begged him to find the courage to speak. “I… I would do anything for you, Princess. I… um…”

Looking into your eyes—seeing just how beautiful, soft, and breathtaking you appeared in the bloom of the setting sun… Cody couldn’t finish his thought. The words that lingered on his tongue held such consequence—both for him and for you. He couldn’t say which he feared more: that you might reject him, or that you might not.

But as always, you saw through him. You leaned in closer, resting one of your hands on his.

“You what?” you prompted him, gazing fondly into his eyes.

Unable to deny you, Cody drove himself to speak.

“I… care about you.”

It wasn’t what he truly wished to say. But in your eyes, he knew you understood.

“Cody…”

His name on your lips drove him mad. But your lips on his sent him spiraling.

Every glance he’d stolen at your lips never could have prepared him for the feeling of kissing you like this. What little distance remained between the two of you melted away, and the uncharacteristic hesitation that had plagued Cody since the day he met you finally left him. Knowing that you felt just as strongly as he did finally allowed him to be his true self. It compelled him to serve you as more than just a soldier.

Nothing but a word from you could have stopped Cody then—from carrying you to your bed, from laying you carefully upon your sheets, from gently stripping the fabric from your figure. Your hands minded his injury as they ran over his skin, but he had forgotten about it long ago. His only concern was you.

“Cody…”

His name dripped from your lips like honey as he worked his way down your body, marking inch after inch of your form with delicate kisses. It was a softness he hadn’t believed himself capable of. But every fleeting, tender touch you graced him with inspired something in his heart. He had never been loved before; he was a soldier, built for battle and nothing more. And yet, you treated him with such care—as though he might break from too swift a touch. In a way, he supposed it was true. The mere feeling of being cared for swelled his heart so full that he feared it might burst.

No, he had never been loved before. And if this was to be the last time, he wanted to relish it utterly.

“Cody…”

He couldn’t say which he was drunk on more: the sound of your voice as you breathed his name, or the wetness he lapped between your legs. With your fingers roaming through his hair, his head held snugly between your thighs, there was nowhere else in the galaxy that could’ve filled Cody with such bliss. Every twist of your hips, every arch of your back, every hitch of your breath only drove him to please you more.

“Cody…”

You looked so beautiful as he loomed over you now. The warm dusk painted your skin, though your cheeks burned red without it. And your smile… even as he ran his thumb along your lips, even as he trailed his length against your sex, it never faded from your face. You wore it just for him, and he would not take that privilege for granted.

Only when he pressed into you did the overwhelming pleasure turn your expression to something different, but he didn’t fret, choosing to meet your lips with his, instead.

“Cody…!”

In an eternity and an instant, he could feel himself unraveling. It took all his strength to keep from succumbing to the agonizing, heavenly warmth you enveloped him with. How could he, when you still needed him? Lips lavishing your neck, hands tangled in your hair, he buried himself in you over and over. While your nails dragged across his back, your voice grew hoarse from whimpers and moans. He knew you were close—so horribly, painfully close.

When his hand trailed down across your form, and his fingers grazed the aching point between your legs, you cried his name for the last time that night.

“Cody!”

Wave after wave of your release shuddered through you, the sensation spelling Cody’s end, all the same. Your ankles locked around him, holding him in your depths as he filled you with his warmth. Trembling and spent, Cody barely managed to keep himself from collapsing on you, maintaining his balance just long enough to meet you in a soft, tender kiss—one that could never convey the full extent of his adoration.

Reluctantly, he pulled away from you, if only to join you at the head of the bed. As the heat of your encounter faded, an inkling of uncertainty entered Cody’s mind again. His hands longed for you, but as before, your titles stood in his way. He feared being improper, offending you somehow even after the love you’d shared…

But, to his utmost thankfulness, you were not about to let him flounder. Unabashed, you worked your way into his arms, burrowing yourself against his broad chest. The mere sight overwhelmed Cody with warmth. With no further doubts, he embraced you, dotting kiss after loving kiss upon your head.

After a moment, he leaned back, if only to look upon you. Again, you met him with that smile—the one he would never tire of, and the one he hoped you would wear any time he was near. Gently, he pressed his lips to your forehead.

“Princess…” he hummed. “I…”

You bumped your nose on his. “Yes, Cody?”

He sighed. There remained no part of him that could resist you now.

“I love you.”

His heart did not race at his words, nor did yours. Your smile merely widened, and you snaked your arms around his neck, drawing him in for yet another kiss. His confession was no shock to either of you. You’d had his love from the moment he first laid eyes on you. But what you said in turn—however much he had hoped to hear it—he still felt unprepared for.

“I love you, too.”

The moons rose over the horizon as the two of you shared in each others’ affection, and Cody had never been so content. Even as he drifted off, holding you in his arms, he thought not of the war, the Separatists, the dangers he might face come morning.

Only you.

,,,

That morning, you hadn’t brewed Cody a mug of caf, as was routine. But given there was no force in the galaxy that could pry you from his arms, he had to forgive you.

Lazy mornings felt strange to Cody—and lazy mornings in the embrace of a beautiful woman, even stranger. His fondest dreams could never compare to the sight of you waking up on his chest, eyes full of love as they looked upon him for the first time that day.

Gently, he set his hand against your cheek, beckoning your lips closer. You offered a soft kiss, with barely enough weight to graze your lips against his. Cody could feel you smile against him, and he could only smile, in turn.

“Good morning, Princess,” he hummed, trailing languid kisses along your jaw. “Now what has you smiling at this hour?”

His teasing only served to widen your grin. You giggled—not stopping when his lips continued down your neck.

“Oh, nothing, really… I suppose I’m just in good spirits,” you sighed. Your hands ran along Cody’s shoulders, slipping up his neck until you buried your fingers in his hair. “It’s entirely possible that it has something to do with waking up next to such a handsome man, but… I can’t be sure.”

Cody chuckled. His lips had reached your collarbone now, and he had no desire to stop lavishing you anytime soon.

“You can’t, can you?” he echoed. “What would it take to make you sure?”

As he asked his question, Cody’s calloused hands slipped up your thighs, roving over your hips and up your gorgeous frame. His touch drew the faintest gasp from your lips, emboldening him ever more. Though the night you shared had exhilarated Cody beyond his wildest dreams, he couldn’t help but long for more of you. And judging by the way your back arched against him, you hadn’t had your fill of him, either.

“Cody…” A whimper passed your lips when his hands cupped your chest. Through a love-drunk smile, you breathed, “I love you…”

Cody hummed softly, intoxicated from the caress of your fingers along his scalp. He kissed along your sternum, reveling in your every sound.

“I love you, more…”

The shrill beeping from the strewn pile of Cody’s clothes on the floor startled both of you, a cruel return to reality. With a heavy sigh, Cody shook his head. If someone was making the effort to reach him on an undercover operation, it had to be important… much to his displeasure.

Wrapping you tightly in his arms, he offered a kiss to your forehead as a parting gift.

“You stay put,” he instructed playfully. “No getting into trouble while I’m gone.”

You rolled your eyes and bumped your nose against his. “I’ll try.”

With a heavy sigh, Cody left the warmth of the bed and your arms behind, making himself presentable for whomever awaited on the other end of the ringing commlink. Once he was dressed, he stepped out of your bedroom, ensuring the door closed firmly behind him. Alone in the main room of the domicile, he accepted the incoming transmission.

“General Kenobi,” Cody spoke as the Jedi flickered to life on the holoprojector.

“Good morning, Cody,” General Kenobi answered. “It feels like it’s been ages since we’ve talked. How are you getting on?”

Cody swallowed the immediate fear that shot through him, forgetting for a moment that the general was looking for a situation report—not any summary of what trouble his commander may have gotten into the night prior.

“We’re… surviving,” Cody replied. “We had a close call yesterday—some Separatist deployments have made their way to this planet looking for the princess, and they nearly found her, too. But we were able to evade them without incident.”

“I see,” the general hummed, stroking his beard. “I suppose this news will be a relief, then. We’ve successfully liberated the princess’s homeworld, so the two of you won’t need to fend for yourselves any longer.”

Cody’s eyes went wide.

“Already?” he uttered.

“You sound surprised.”

“Well… i-it’s just that it’s only been eight rotations,” Cody floundered, trying to recover. “I was expecting we’d be here longer, but… that’s… good to hear, General.”

“I’m glad,” General Kenobi returned. “I’ll be on the lookout for an update or your arrival. May the Force be with you, Commander.”

“Thank you, sir. We’ll be there soon.”

The hologram dissipated, and Cody’s heart sank along with it. As a Marshal Commander, it was rare for him to lose track of… well, anything. But it seemed he’d gotten so wrapped up in this little fantasy with you that he forgot the caveats that came along with it—most notably, that it would eventually come to an end. It was bittersweet: on one hand, he was thankful to know your planet was safe, and he would be eager to return to his brothers…

…but on the other, the mere thought of leaving you behind twisted his stomach into knots.

Sighing, Cody pinched the bridge of his nose. He supposed all that remained was to break the news to you. But he couldn’t say why his feet stayed put—why he couldn’t bring himself to open the bedroom door again.

“I’m guessing it’s bad news for you, too…?”

Your voice brought Cody back from his brooding. When he turned, he found you wrapped up in one of his shawls, leaning against the doorway with a sad smirk on your lips. The sun bathed your skin in a radiant glow that made you look simply ethereal.

As if the universe couldn’t make this any harder on him…

Cody returned to you, his hands slipping around your waist. He could see the disappointment in your smile; even as you draped your arms over his shoulders, resting your forehead on his, you didn’t beam as brightly as you had before. Cody couldn’t blame you—his smile was just as somber.

“Yeah. I didn’t realize how long it’s been,” he sighed. With a bitter chuckle, he added, “I guess that’ll teach me to train my battalion so well. If they were worse soldiers, we might’ve had more time.”

Though his words earned a giggle from you, it didn’t linger. Before long, you fell quiet again, and Cody couldn’t bring himself to break the silence. He held you close, safe and sound in his arms. His hands ran up and down your back, and he planted kiss after lazy kiss upon your head. All while his mind raced.

What could he say? The options overwhelmed him, but not one felt like enough to make up for the reality of the situation. I love you with all I am. I wish we had more time. I want to marry you.

“Are you going to stay?”

Your voice caught Cody by surprise. He leaned back, if only to meet your eyes. When he did, he found you looking back at him with the slightest sorrow.

“What?” he asked.

The ghost of a smile formed on your lips, your gaze bashfully falling from his.

“You don’t have to go, you know… and I don’t have to go back to my homeworld. We can stay together, just the two of us.” As you spoke, your fingers trembled against his skin. “I know it’s a forlorn hope, and it’s asking a lot, but… I want to stay with you. I love you, Cody. I don’t want you to go.”

When your gaze met his again, your misty eyes pleaded with him.

“Will you stay with me, Cody? Please?”

Your words tore Cody asunder, a pain more agonizing than he’d felt on any battlefield. Pieces of him begged to stay with you—to never be without the love you showered him with, to be your protector for all his life. But as you could already tell, those pieces of him were not enough to shun his duty, his purpose. Even if he wished he could.

“Princess…” Cody sighed. From his first word alone, he saw the hope drain from your face. Though he wanted to subvert your fears—to say whatever it took to bring the light back to your eyes—he couldn’t. He owed you the full answer, as much as it hurt to hear—and to say. “I’m sorry. I love you, too… more than I ever thought was possible, I love you. But… I won’t let you give up everything for me. Your planet needs you, and my brothers need me. We can’t leave our lives behind.”

Dejected, your gaze fell from Cody’s. He could feel the tears slipping from your cheeks onto the soft fabric of his shirt. Guilt weighed on his chest, with every tear you shed crushing him further. Was he truly so cruel, to make the woman he loved more than life itself devastated like this?

He knew he had more to say. He knew it would be nowhere near enough to temper the pain of your separation. But if he could not give himself to you, he would leave you with hope to hold onto in his absence.

Gently, he took your chin between his fingers, moving your gaze back to his again.

“But Princess… I promise this isn’t the end for you and me. Even if we’re apart, I’m still yours… and I will be until the day I die.”

He pressed a soft kiss between your eyes.

“The moment this war ends, I’m boarding the first transport to your homeworld. And no matter what anyone says, I’m marrying you. I’ll spend the rest of my life making up for the time we lost. Nothing else will matter to me but you.” Though halfhearted, he managed a smirk. “Understood?”

You smiled. Even through the tears that streamed down your face, you smiled. It was real, and it was beautiful.

“Understood,” you whispered.

Softly, Cody kissed away every last one of your tears, before meeting your lips once more.

The two of you still had the day, and you both agreed to make the most of it. Packing up the little life you’d built together went slowly, interrupted countless times by kisses, conversations, lovemaking... Cody cherished every moment. He never wanted to forget the warmth of your body in his arms, the taste of you on his lips, the sound of your laughter in his ears. Soon, his senses would once more be overwhelmed by the battlefield, and he would long for these comforts in his dreams. If he couldn’t stay with you, he at least wanted to carry your memory with him.

When at last the two of you boarded your ship, ready to return to your homeworld, you were content. The pain of your imminent parting had dulled, and in its place came the bittersweet comfort of knowing you’d enjoyed what little time you had to the fullest.

The flight was uneventful, but unlike those first few days you’d spent with one another, the two of you had nothing to say. You merely held one another close, your adoration speaking for itself.

, , ,

“Your commander is to be commended for his service to this planet. Without him, I may very well not be here to retake my throne.”

You stood before the armored commander and his Jedi General, bowing your head politely to show your appreciation for their actions. In every sense, you were back where you belonged—in the halls of your palace, dressed in the finest regalia. The princess you were meant to be. But stunning though you were, Cody could not help but remember you as you had been during your time together. Dressed without concern for royal protocol, stripped down to your truest self… a side of you that was his alone to see.

From beside Cody, General Kenobi nodded graciously.

“He is an impeccable soldier. I am pleased to hear he took such good care of you,” General Kenobi said.

Cody’s heart raced, and he tried to keep a solemn face. His struggle was made all the more apparent with how easily you could mask any reaction, merely meeting the general with a kind smile.

“Indeed. I hope he is well rewarded for his assistance,” you said. For the briefest moment, your eyes met Cody’s, and your smile softened. “I’m afraid my gratitude is not nearly enough to thank him for all he has done.”

A ghost of a smile formed on Cody’s lips. He stood just a bit taller at your words.

“We’ll see to it that he is, your highness,” General Kenobi agreed. “But in the meantime, I’m afraid the war demands our attention. We wish you well, your majesty.”

You curtseyed politely before the two men.

“May luck follow you in your battles, Master Jedi,” you said. When you turned your attention once more to Cody, your expression faltered for the briefest moment. “And may luck follow you, Commander Cody.”

Cody gazed back at you, doing little to hide the feelings buried beneath the surface. Even as the General began the walk back to the transport, Cody remained—lingering just as long as he could. Savoring the sight of you until the last, desperate second. Praying to the Maker that his every thought of you could be conveyed through this last moment alone.

“Thank you… Princess.”

You smiled. Though the faintest sadness hid behind it, you meant it from the depths of your being. And even if it was unbecoming of a soldier, Cody smiled back at you.

But he knew this was not the end. Even as he finally turned away, setting his helmet upon his head and boarding the LAAT, even as he looked back to you one last time before the shuttle doors closed, he knew.

He would see you again.

AN: Thank you for getting to the end lol I hope you enjoyed it despite the intimidating wordcount LOL and I hope you like it @loving-the-cambridges ! Also, huge thank you to @ghostofskywalker for putting this event together and organizing, it was so much fun and I would love to participate again!✨✨

"""taglist""" - @shinyshayminflower @starrylothcat

#reader insert #reader #W6Fic #commander cody x reader #commander cody x you #cody x reader #clone wars #tcw cody #star wars x reader #fem reader #CFGE23

288 notes · View notes

angel-eyes05 · 1 year

Text

i remember his hands - chapter 3

PAIRING: kang the conqueror x fem!reader

SUMMARY: after a scientific experiment goes horribly wrong, you've been transported to the quantum realm and have been stuck there for the past decade. with no company, aside from janet van dyne, your life changes forever when a mysterious man in a golden ship crash lands next to your settlement. startled with his initial presence, you two have a rocky start. but as time goes on, you two find each other slowly drawn to one another. you have secrets though, and he has a past he refuses to bring up. can you two make it through navigating an unknown world together, discovering any ulterior motives, and stand the test of time in a place where time has no meaning at all?

INFO: slow romantic burn, pretty fast sexual burn, kinda enemies to lovers????, takes place during that little flashback janet has during quantumania, idk how accurate this is gonna be to canon stuff cause i get very confused about the quantum realm lol, reader is in mid to late 20s while kang is in his “early 30s” (ik he like technically doesn't age or whatever idk the lore but i just made it accurate to jonathan majors age and wanted to give an accurate age range/gap/count), y/n will be very fleshed out like im gonna give her everything lol

WARNING: explicit language, smut (minors dni), masturbation (f), oral sex (fem receiving), cum play, not a very happy ending (guys aftercare is important)

CHAPTER WORD COUNT: 2.5k

NOTES: i just wanna say thank you for all the love recently! idk if ill set a specific schedule for when ill release the chapters or not cause honestly i just work better whenever i write when i want without a time constraint so thats probably what i’ll end up doing. if you want me to write a specific one shot for kang or even another character (i feel most comfortable writing for mcu, star wars, the last of us, and stranger things, but if i know the piece of media youre talking about and feel comfortable writing about the character, im down) just lmk! also i decided at the last second this was gonna be a smuty chapter so..yeah!

PREVIOUS PART

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------

It had been about two weeks since you found Kang at the crash site. Despite the moment you two had when you first fixed him up, you two had very little interactions since then. It made sense though. Both of you were taking your own separate times to heal, you in your room, bedridden from your horrible headaches, him on the couch, still unable to walk due to his foot and abdomen. According to Janet, he hasn’t been very talkative. He would occasionally respond to her comments about how he was feeling, but wouldn’t say anything about where he came from or why he was here. So she just stopped asking. It took a while for you to open up to Janet about how you got here at first as well though, so you understood why he would be all shut up about it. It got you thinking about how you ended up here. How much you left behind. God you wish you got the chance to leave a note or something. At the very least, for them…

You quickly dragged yourself out of that thought, knowing the path it would lead you down led to nothing but wasted tears. It was late at night, and you laid sleepless in your bed, so it was easy to let your mind wander. To distract yourself, you replayed the moment with him in your mind. You were a little touch starved, in that way at least, so feeling Kang’s hand in that sensitive of an area drove you mad. Thinking about it would always give you the same reaction. Butterflies slowly fluttering into your stomach, roses blooming onto your cheeks, and the near uncontrollable urge to touch yourself. You know your relationship was non existent right now and had a horrible start, but sometimes you wondered what would happen if you walked over to the couch right now and started to kiss him. The only thing you ended up doing though was changing your now soaked underwear.

You always felt bad when you let yourself think like that. Poor guy was probably just looking for something to hold while he was in pain. And you were taking advantage of it. Then again, you remembered how he slowly pulled his fingers away from your thigh once you were finished stitching him up, an act that did seem very purposeful. Again though, he might have done that unconsciously. You always sent yourself into this back and forth inner dialogue with yourself about his intentions in that moment. Whether you liked it or not, during the past two weeks, you’ve only had two things on your mind: your pain, and him.

With the mix of your restless mind, the ache between your legs, and your now grumbling stomach, you decide to get out of bed and go to the kitchen to find something to eat. Also partially because you would get to see him, awake or not. To be honest, you preferred him asleep. You could just admire him from a far, without the complexities of a conversation to mess anything up. You crept into the hallway, adjusting your eyes from the dim light in your room to the rest of the house, enveloped in the darkness. Thankfully, you knew the layout of the house well, so you doubted you would trip over anything. You wandered throughout the cabin until you got past Janet’s room and into the kitchen. You didn’t realize how flawed your plan was, it just now clicking that you wouldn’t be able to see Kang in the darkness. You didn’t entirely mind though. Just knowing he’s in the same room as you put your thoughts slightly at ease.

You finally make it to the counter and put your arms out to find something. They land on a round, spiked fruit. Too scared of accidentally cutting yourself if you use a knife to peel it, you decide just to bite into it. Juice drips down from your mouth as your teeth sink into the fruit. Although the food here was no where near as good as back home, you managed to find a few gems here. The fruits were definitely one of them. Once you finish with the fruit, you use the sleeve of your loose shirt to wipe your mouth. You paced the room a bit, still kind of restless. Your eyes still haven’t entirely adjusted to the dark, but you think you have a pretty good standing of your ground. That is until you trip over the back of the couch. You brace yourself for the impact of flying over the couch and waking up everyone in the process, until you’re suddenly stopped.

It’s a hand. No, not just a hand. The hand. His hand.

Again, it stays there longer than it should have. Placed just below where your sternum meets your breasts. You could feel your heart beating faster the longer his hand stayed there. “You’re a loud chewer” Kang finally said. It was more of a deep whisper though. God you loved the sound of his voice, despite the few times you heard it. “You must be a light sleeper then” you replied in a similar tone. Despite still not being able to see his face, you could tell he was smirking. He slowly push you back up to your normal position. The trick was that he didn’t move his hand. He actually tightened his grip on your shirt. That’s when it clicked for you. He wanted it just as bad as you did.

You then placed your hand over Kang’s, rubbing deep circles just below his knuckles with your thumb. Then, he began to pull you by your shirt to the front side of the couch. You followed his hand until he stopped pulling, leaving you in the same place you were when you stitched up his shoulder. You stood there as he began to move his hand down from your sternum. The feeling of him dragging his fingers down your body at an agonizingly slow pace was enough to get your starved pussy wet. Then he got to your hips, where your loose pants rested. He then took his other hand and used both hands to drag your pants off. Once you kicked them off, he went back up to your panties, hooking his pointer finger around the sides of them and dragged those off even slower than the pants.

He then placed his hands on your bare hips, digging his thumbs into them. A slight moan escaped your lips. In response, he placed his finger over your mouth in a shushing action. “She can’t hear you.’’ You were overcome with embarrassment at the fact you were so enveloped in the thought of having sex with Kang that you forgot that Janet was only a room away. You decided now you had to be silent, however hard that would prove to be later. He put that hand back on your hip and helped you onto his chest. You placed your hands over his shirtless shoulders, being mindful of his left one. You pressed your hands deeply into them and began to massage them. Thank god your eyes had finally adjusted to the dark, because now you could see every emotion playing across his face as you sunk your hands deeper into his shoulder muscles. You moved the massage down his arms, making your way to his biceps. They were massive and tough. All you could think about was how much you wanted them around your neck. Ironic. Once you moved on from those and finally made it to his hands, you took hold of them.

You used them to help you take off your shirt and bra. After tossing your bra to the floor, you placed his hands on your breasts and began to grope them with his hands. His eyes rolled back into his head, and as soon as you could tell he was about to moan, you smashed your lips into his to capture it. You took your hands off of his to cup his jaw to fully envelop yourself in the kiss. He kept one hand on your breast while he moved the other one down and began to run circles around your clit. You softly moaned into his mouth with each rotation he made. As each second went by, the kiss became more intense. More desperate. You had no idea how long it had been since he had touched someone like this, and you knew it had been forever since you were touched like this. You two both had some desperation to your actions. Like this would be the last time either of you would experience something like this ever again. Both of you so starved of touch. You needed this so badly, and part of you knew he needed it too.

As he began to circle your clit with more ferocity, you felt the heat in your chest growing stronger. God he had just started and you were already about to come. You didn’t to yet. If you did, that meant it would be over. Lucky for you, you felt his hand pull away from your clit. He pulled away from the kiss ass well, panting. “I need you to help me up for a second” he said. You reluctantly got up, wondering if he was just going to leave you here like this. It was just now that you realized how naked you were. Sure, he didn’t have a shirt on, but you still felt much more exposed than him for some reason. You helped him up onto his feet, also now realizing exactly how much taller he was than you. Seeing him staring down at you like that. Like you had suddenly become the most important thing in the world to him. Suddenly, he turned you around and shoved you onto the couch. You sat there as he kneeled down and began too kiss your inner thighs.

He moved those strong, dry hands of his to the top of your thighs and sprayed them out against them. He dug his fingers into them as he moved his mouth from your inner thigh to your lips. Feeling his warm breath against them in the cold room sent shivers down your spine. You grabbed the top of his head for leverage as you thrust your hips into his mouth. “Look at you” he said in between kisses. “Being such a good girl and getting so wet for me. Seems like you completely forgot about the fact we were trying to kill each other two weeks ago.” It was strange to you a little. You had convinced yourself you wouldn’t be safe in the same house as Kang, and now here you were, completely naked on the couch with him eating you out.

He wasn’t doing enough though. You weren’t nearly as satisfied as you were when he was circling your clit. He had yet to stick his tongue in you, all he was doing was kissing your folds. He was just teasing you again. “P-please” you said desperately. “I-I need y-you d-deeper.” He removed his mouth from your area and moved his hand to your clit again as he talked to you to keep you stimulated. “Oh thats what you want now? Am I not doing enough for you? Because I could stop if that’s what you prefer.” “N-n-no!” you nearly shouted out. “P-please, I-I j-just wanna f-feel you.” He sat there for a moment thinking, fingers still on your clit. “P-please Kang-g.” You asked again, looking deep into his eyes. “Well, since you asked so nicely. And plus, how could I say no to someone as pretty as you. Sitting there so neat and ready for me.”

Next thing you know, he dives back in, his tongue licking all over your folds and into your pussy. Your strangled moan makes one strange noise, but he must have liked it because he moved his hands up to grab deep into your hips in response. God you could stay here for hours. Layed here sprawled out on the couch with him eating you out. You just wish you could moan and whine for you. You wanted so desperately to scream his name out into the world and let it know how much he had you under his grasp. And you knew he wanted it also. But that was part of the appeal of everything. Knowing you had to stay quite. It made it more enticing. But man you couldn’t wait until you had the cabin to yourself. When he could fuck you through your bed properly, where you could scream his name at the top of your lungs, and him with yours. For now though, you would take this. It was enough for what you needed right now.

As he moved his tongue from your folds to your swollen clit, he begins to suck on it. You felt the heat return back to your core as you itched with pleasure, a roaring tide begging to wash from your pelvis into his mouth. The heat of his breath on you, the tightening grip of his hands on your hips, his tongue fluttering over your folds and clit, the soft hums he would make after tasting you. “F-fuck K-kang. I-I-I’m gonna c-cum” you said, the words barely making it out of your mouth without being mixed with a moan. He nods slightly in approval, gliding his tongue over your folds like silk and moving on of his hands to circle your clit to help pull it out of you. Finally, you feel the wave escape your pussy. You grab a pillow near you and release all your moans and screams into as the ecstasy exits you and enters his mouth. You arch your back as he tries to swallow as much of your cum as he can. You’re blinded by the intensity of your orgasm as your thighs tense up and you can hardly move anything, except to move the noises out of your mouth.

Once you finish, Kang stays there, licking off the last of your essence off your folds and feeling your throbbing clit under his tongue. He backs away from your pussy and moves up to your mouth as he kisses you, sharing with you some of your cum. He uses your shirt to clean up his mouth and the remaining bits of cum from your folds. To your surprise though, after that, he tosses the shirt on the floor, stands up, and walks away to your room. In shock, you convince yourself he went to your room to grab you a new change of clothes. Once you hear the door close though, you snap yourself back into reality. Looking down at yourself, naked and trembling (part from the cold and part from the orgasm), embarrassment floods your body. You couldn’t believe how easy you gave yourself up for him. God you knew you were desperate, but you didn’t know you were that desperate. And there he was in the other room, sleeping in your bed. Leaving you there on the couch, laying out naked, waiting for someone to take you away like some fantasy. But there you were. Alone. And really fucking cold.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

NEXT PART

A/N: yeaaaaaaaah, i needed drama so i did that. sucks but i didnt have any other ideas sorry lol. hope you liked the chapter though! this was actually my first time writing smut so i hope i didnt do that bad. looking forward to chapter 4!!! also sorry i didnt really proofread this one either cause it was super late when i posted it so sorry

#i remember his hands #kang the conqueror x reader #kang x reader #kang the conqueror #smut #mcu smut #ant man #mcu phase 5 #mcu fanfiction #marvel mcu #quantumania #fem!reader #fanfic #fanfiction

149 notes · View notes

amadwinter · 12 days

Text

Making of Monday - How NOT to Write a Long Fic

Haven't posted one of these in a hot minute! Story time: sometime around 2021, I decided I was sick of having all these ideas for Star Wars fics and never actually writing them. So I decided to buckle down, and write a damn fic.

But of course that didn't happen. What I did instead was try to plot out a long, winding, action-adventure story, and to do that, I decided to study to study from the masters. Or master. I wrote down all the chapter titles for every Lord of the Rings book, and was planning on modeling my story based off a similar pacing.

But of course that didn't happen either. And I realized that I was getting nowhere fast. So, I took out a different piece of paper, and with no plan in place, just started jotting down thoughts.

Warning: terrible formatting and terribly inconsistent handwriting below the cut

And as you can see, I didn't get far with unconnected ideas before I started planning once more.

Inspired by short fic I had just read, I wanted to write a long fic where a whole and hale Anakin Skywalker shows up on Tatooine some amount of years into exile. Seeing as how this was before the Obi-Wan Kenobi show came out, there was a lot of room for interpretation in canon. I could take ideas from Legends, make theories about what they were going to do with canon (and be extremely right about some of them), and just make shit up whenever I wanted to.

But immediately, I came to a question that I wanted an interesting answer to: where did this new Anakin come from, and how did he get to Tatooine? Time travel is simple, and not where I wanted to go. Something something Sith magic, yeah, whatever. Also not what I wanted to do. But dimension travel? Now, there was an idea.

Of course, because I am a planner, it couldn't be simple, now could it? It couldn't be just hand-wave the Force that caused it. There had to be a real, concrete, series of events that caused Anakin to appear out of thin air.

And thus began the Yeetverse.

A chain of 4 separate universes (plus 1 bonus one for my own torture amusement. And actually now with one more added on later!). A to B to C to D. It's far too complex for baby's first fanfic in a fandom, and yet the ideas would not stop flowing.

Yes, that was all just written because I couldn't stop thinking about these ideas. It may not seem like a lot, but any brave soul who attempts to read my handwriting can see that there are many things going on at once. (And the only thing I blocked out is the ending to what was meant to be the first fic in this chain, the thrill of the fall)

But for all those ideas, all that planning...

I haven't even finished the first fic I truly tried to write.

I actually have so much of it outlined. I even wrote the outlines of the first 2 chapters of the original fic idea that started it all down on paper.

But I haven't written more.

Why?

Turns out, I'm not good at writing long fics. Planning them? Yes. Finishing them? Hell no.

It will be 3 years since I came up with these ideas. I haven't given up hope yet that I might actually get around to writing all those fics one day, but one-shots and event fics have drawn my attention away.

Who knows; maybe I'll finally take another shot once I've finished up more of my posted WIPs.

#making of monday #writing things #not everything is a success #and that's okay

16 notes · View notes

des8pudels8kern · 6 months

Text

Trope:

Your self-sacrificial idiot much respected General is working himself to the bone and refuses to rest. Something something the Force will sustain him. And you are grateful he cares so much about you and your brothers, so grateful, but you also care about him, so you do what any 2IC (who is both stuck in the madness that is this war and at this point certain there is nothing he could do that would cause his General to have him sent back to Kamino) would do - you confer with your chief medic and get a little something-something to put into your General's tea to help him rest.

It works great.

You even get to tuck your General into bed/the vod cuddle pile. All very professionally, of course.

Angsty twist #1:

Apparently your sheltered, pre-war Temple-raised Jedi General has significant enough trauma about Force suppressors that taking away his access to the mythical power he's been abusing as a stimulant doesn't cause him to fall into normal, baseline-human exhausted sleep, as both you and your medic assumed, but rather a very unrestful, flashback-fuelled panic attack you need to contain without hurting him or letting him hurt anyone, kriff kriff kriff.

Angsty twist #2:

Your General stops drinking the tea you give him. Or the food you set down next to his pad on his desk. The snacks you offer during a drawn-out meeting. Even the ration you try to push on him during a lull in a battle that has been going on for too long already.

You try to apologize, but he won't have it, because "I do not blame you that I made the mistake of letting my guard down. Never fear; it won't happen again."

You didn't realise how rare a gift his trust was, and now that you've lost it you don't know how to get it back. All you wanted was for him to get some rest.

The emerging comfort after the hurt:

"I don't know, vod. Have you tried grovelling?"

"I don't think grovelling is gonna cut it."

"Very helpful. What would you do, then?"

"I would never do this to Aayla in the first place!"

"You know, Bly's got a point here."

"..."

"No, no, don't you see: If this is how your General, who managed to survive a decade with Rex' General--"

"Hey!"

"--without losing his mind or his cool, reacts like this, then clearly this isn't equivalent to a nice little sedative that's safe to use on our Jedi, so why do we even have that stuff in the first place?"

"To subdue a Sith?"

"Have you ever met a Sith? None of them are going to accept any food we offer them, and, if you tried to go near them with a dropper full of Force suppressant, they'd probably rip your entire arm off with their teeth, armour or not. The only way to subdue them is to either overpower them through sheer manpower and wrangle cuffs on them, or catch them while they are knocked out, and then you might as well go with the cuffs, too - those don't need reapplying every couple of hours to stay effective."

"Uhm, guys? I just looked up - Cody, I need you to stay calm now - I just looked up chemical force suppression, and all of that stuff is classified at least as a Class II neurological poison and banned in the Republic--"

"Why are our GAR ships stocked with poison that is illegal in the Republic?"

"---because--"

"How did the financing for that pass the Senate?"

"--because of its detrimental effects on the Force user, since it doesn't just block the user's ability but degrades it. Cody. Cody, you need to. Cody. I know. I know, vod."

"..."

"I want it off my ship."

"Pretty sure we all want it off our ships."

"We need a plan."

"Step one: Swear our medics to secrecy and get them to scour medical for every last drop of that stuff and shoot it into the nearest star. Step two: Figure out who put it there in the first place."

#not!fic #commander cody #codywan #obi wan kenobi #i'm having angsty after-work thoughts about blorbo i must be feeling better

51 notes · View notes

aviradasa · 3 months

Text

The sight of two stars

Aaravos x Startouched elf! Reader

(art from Pinterest if you know the original artist let me know so I can give proper credit!!)

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

{Fluff}

warning: none

I had this idea for a while about Aaravos with a reader who likes to find constellations on his skin and I started this oneshot expecting it to take a completely different path but I love how it turned out and I'm low key proud with the idea. The execution is not my best work but we have fun here!😂. Anywho, I hope y'all enjoy! I hope this will be able to hold you over for a few more days as I have 3 more one shots/images in the making that should come out shortly! Anyway, it's almost 3 am and I have to drive for 5 hours back home tomorrow 😭.

(ps:I had to make up a constellation for this that sounded more magical so I did! But all the other constellations are either from the show or a real constellation!)

Don't forget you can leave a request! I will link my master list here make sure you read before requesting! Love you all my little goblins 🖤

I have always loved the night sky And everything that belongs to it. I've especially always been drawn to constellations. The way the stars are set just perfectly to make a work of art when in reality they are so far from one another that they are not aware that their portrait is beautiful in a way.

It's been so long since I was able to gaze upon them. Being imprisoned for centuries with no windows or fresh air is a burden in itself, But losing my Night sky, it almost felt like I had lost myself. Well, I didn't lose all of myself. My lovely husband keeps me Sane (When he's not driving me Insane).

He's the reason I’m here in the first place. What is it with dragons anyway, It was just a couple of war crimes and whatnot, And I wasn't even involved. With the crimes that is. yes, I may have given my lovely starman some ideas every once in a while, But I never got my hands dirty. I was just a performer, Singing and dancing in town squares, Taverns, inns you name it. But alas here we are. Here I am. Stuck in this hell, with no sky, just that Damned mirror. I hate that mirror, Well I hate being in range of that mirror. To know someone could be watching me from the other side unnerves me and I avoid it at all cost.

I hear the door open to the room I have placed myself in, another room in this prison. It's a little library with books on all sorts of things. it's my favorite spot in this wretched place. My little slice of heaven.

I glance up from my book watching Aaravos enter the room with that cloak on, I can’t help but love the way he looks in it, and with the way I look at him, I’m worse than any man.

“My love, Why do you gaze at me in such a way? I can feel your eyes from here” He teases, taking his cloak off and hanging in on a small hook by the tall doors before looking over at me with that Smirk he gives. I love this elf but by the Divines why must he do this?

I shake my head with a chuckle, placing my bookmark in the spot I left off before closing my book. Setting it down gently on the table beside the little sofa I've curled up on. “ Am I not allowed to admire you?.’ I jokingly ask with a small grin as I allow him to take a seat beside me.“So how was your dramatic entrance? Did that Dark mage see you this time like you wanted?” I ask turning to face him resting my arm on the back of the sofa and using my hand to prop up my head.

“Everything went according to plan. His candle went out. I went in, confused him, and left. Just as Intended.” He tells me with a cocky smile.

“Now everything should fall into place, he’s a curious desperate, power-hungry human. That is just the combination we are looking for if we wish to get out of here.” I say with some excitement,

“but my love do not get cocky yet because if one little piece is lost, broken, or forgotten, we will be stuck here. And If we are stuck in here for another century I will skin you alive.” I warn with a stern expression before I chuckle a bit.

He laughs a bit “ No you wouldn’t, 'cause then you would be all alone in this place and we both know you couldn't take that.” He says pulling me closer to his side.

“What are you talking about? Some peace and quiet would be lovely. Maybe then I could finish my book.” I joke as I adjust to get a bit more comfortable. “Ah yes, what book are you reading currently again? It was something to do with the differences between human interpretations of constellations and Elven interpretations correct?” he asks genuinely curious about my interest,

He remembers my love of the night like no other, for he loved it as well. but now it's hard to remember what it's like. Of course, there are illustrations in the books but those illustrations can only capture so much, yes some books do better than others but the true beauty of the night sky can only truly be appreciated in person. Well, maybe something can come close.

“Yes that's right, and honestly humans need to get a bit more creative. I mean they Named Garlath the Annihilator the Big Spoon… Because they thought it looked like a spoon." I say with sarcasm as I roll my eyes. “ and also they call Leolas' last wish the South Star. Talk about imagination.'' I speak with disappointment. Aaravos just simply chuckles “Those names the humans gave them came to be long before this generation, they are simple and easy for their minds to comprehend but I do agree they were quite lazy.” he says in agreement.

I think he gives them too much credit. but what can I say I lost patience with humans during my time performing. Aaravos on the other hand has plenty, but then again he was more respected by them due to the whole giving them magic ordeal which I understand but still, humans are like an annoying younger sibling. you love them and would do what you could to protect them from others, but you would definitely rip their vocal cord out and strangle them with it as soon as they call you ugly.

I sigh “Perhaps I'm a bit harsh on them sometimes, but I can't help it. I feel like I'm losing my mind here, I'm not even sure how much time has passed anymore.” I explain as I absentmindedly trace little patterns on his freckled arm that rests around my waist, as I'm doing this a particularly bright star freckle brings my mind back into focus and I notice something. “Wait a moment…” I say suddenly as Aaravos gives me a confused look “What is it?” he asks simply before I place my thumb over the spot on his arm to not lose it reaching over I grab my book and open it to a certain page leaving him to his confusion as i scan the books page.

“Aha! I thought that looked familiar, darling." I say lifting my thumb off the spot on his arm and placing the book's page next to it. The page has an illustration of a constellation on it, and it just so happens that the little star freckles on his arm connect to make the same one. “Hm well isn't that interesting? I had not noticed that none yet ” he says, grabbing the book from my hand to examine it.

“ Well it says that it's called the eye of Izora, it has 8 stars on top making the upper eyelid, and 5 stars that make up the bottom. The iris is made up of 4 stars in between with the pupil being a completely different constellation (Leola’s last wish). The eye has 7 stars above it making it appear as though the eye has three separate eyelashes with another 7 on the bottom doing the same. In the human kingdoms, it's not known” he reads with a hint of interest. He looks between the book and the spot on his wrist where I found the constellation.

“ isn't that interesting? Oh, I just love finding new ones they are harder to find on you than they are on me for some reason.." I tell you with a grin, snatching the book back. I search through the pages as I scan the rest of his arm looking for more connections. this is one of my favorite things to do, I've found plenty of constellations on myself but with Aaravos they are harder to find because he has a lot more stars on him then I do and they make it harder to connect them,

Minutes pass before I find another new one… It was right in front of us but my eyes couldn't make it out right away. “I see one right there but I can't make out what that one is, It's definitely something though. Can you tell what it is?” I ask Aaravos looks at it for a moment, tilting his head to the side a bit trying to get another angle to look at it but failing.

he seems to think for a moment before he grabs a quill out of the inkpot that sits on the end table next to the sofa, he places the tip of the quill on his skin tracing in between the stars on his arm. As I look through the book I hear him hum “It looks like a scorpion look it up in the book I think we finally found it.” he says, showing me the connected lines.

“I think you're right.” I say glancing at his armbefore turning to the next page and seeing the scorpion-like constellation, it matches the one on his arm and I grin “We found it, I knew it was around here somewhere, we all have our star sign on us, yours just was hiding all these years.” I laugh and he does too “I found it once before I believe but I lost it and didn't find it again until now.” he says holding it up

“ well maybe once we get out of here you should get it tattooed so you don't lose where it is again.” I joke And Aaravos laughs a bit “My love you know I would never do that, it's not my style, besides I am already vastly decorated anyways.’ he says in a kind of sassy tone. As we both laugh some more

As the day? Night? Carried on We both continued our search for more constellations on his skin. It wasn't long before we had mapped out at least a dozen from his wrist to his shoulder connecting the stars with thin lines of writing ink that was smudging in some places but neither of us cared because this was one of the few moments where neither of us are frantically searching or planning. It was just us, then again it's always just us, but moments like this bring us back to reality when we didn't even realize we were drifting away from ourselves, and each other. I know we are gonna make it out of this prison one day, and once we do I know it's going to be just the two of us against all of Xadia. But that's ok I know we will be able to take care of it. And at least I'll have my night sky back.

#tdp #tdp rayla #tdp s1 #tdp spoilers #aaravos #tdp claudia #tdp s5 #aaravos x reader #aaravos the dragon prince #tdp aaravos #aaravos x reader smut #tdp callum

35 notes · View notes

thatonebirdwrites · 8 days

Text

Fandom creators tag game

1. What sort of content do you create, and what is the thing you’ve made that you’re most proud of?

I write stories. Usually original science fiction, but in the past two years, I've branched into fanfiction. I also create art and music.

I'm damn proud of my rewrite of Book 2 of Legend of Korra in my Shared Moments series.

I wish I could find a publisher for my original fiction; then I could share what I'm most proud of but alas. The publishing market is incredibly hard to get into and I don't have the health to self-publish, so we'll go with the Korrasami tales for now. For art, I'm damn proud of this piece I did of Lena.

2. What fandom(s) do you create for?

Korrasami from Legend of Korra.

Supercorp from CW's Supergirl

Rojarias from CW's Supergirl.

3. What is your current favourite ship (or brotp if you prefer), and how controversial is it?

Korrasami. Not controversial much at all. (As a side note, Supercorp feels like an angstier Korrasami. Might be why I like that ship equally well. Supercorp doesn't seem controversial?)

4. For your answer to question 3, are they canon?

Yes, Korrasami is canon. (Supercorp isn't necessarily canon, but there's so much evidence of it in the show that it might as well be.)

5. What was your first fandom, and how old were you?

First fandom I created something for? Or first fandom where I dived into and read everything I could? Because if it's read everything I could, then it's Star Wars before Disney threw out the old Canon (still salty about that). I'd have been pretty young -- still a kid when I was devouring all the Star Wars books. I didn't have any favorite ship though while I did this.

For something I created, Korrasami was the first one I wanted to create art and writing for to be honest. That was three years ago when I started writing Korrasami.

6. What is your most unhinged fandom creation to date?

Oh, that's a Supercorp one. I was inspired by a weird camera glitch, and wrote an unhinged horror set after season 6. The first part of it is in tumblr. I have yet to publish to AO3 mostly because I want to finish more of it before I do. Sort of loosely based on Lovecraft's Color out of Space.

7. Do you remember what started you off creating fandom content, and if so, what was it?

Three years ago I first started drawing and writing Korrasami. Then I branched out into Supercorp.

8. Do you let people you know in real life see your fandom creations?

Only my trusted friends and siblings.

9. How do you feel about fanworks of fanworks? Has anyone ever made something based on a thing you made?

If anyone did, they have never shared it with me. I would love to see it, and I'd treasure it always!

Though if I'm being honest. I doubt I'll ever get fanworks. Why would anyone go to that much trouble for something I wrote? I doubt anything I write is worth that much.

10. What feeling do you most often try to evoke with your creations?

I want to show possible healing journeys that aren't the most painful angstfest known to humanity. I want people to feel the journey too, to capture the world within the character's senses so that their tale feels real.

Whether I achieve this, I have no idea. Some people have written very kind comments stating that I have, and I am delighted by those comments.

11. Has someone ever paid your work a compliment (in any form) that has stuck with you, and what was it?

Two people have said I made a place feel alive through the storytelling and worldbuilding I did. That compliment haunts me in all the best ways, and I have done my best to try to keep that tradition going.

12. What’s your favourite thing someone else has made that you’ve seen in the last 24 hours (and link it if you can find it again!)

It was a Supercorp art piece, but after searching, I can't seem to find it again. It was Lena leaning backwards into Kara's arms, while Kara gently holds her. Colored piece, digitally drawn I think. They look almost like they were swaying back and forth.

13. Give a small sneak preview of something you’re working on right now (eg a couple of sentences of fic from a WIP, a gif set theme, a small piece of a larger picture, whatever you feel happy to share)

Korrasami:

Korra looked at their entangled hands. “Yeah, yeah, it’s just some stitching.”

“And yet, that ‘some stitching’ made something wonderful.” Asami was determined to remind Korra of what she could do. It’d been her mantra for the past six months. She wanted Korra to regain her confidence, but it'd been difficult. Thanks to Asami's foolishness they'd both backslid.

Korra had called it Asami’s paranoia.

Maybe they were both right.

Supercorp:

Lena rises before dawn, prepares her corporate armor, and heads to her full-time job as CEO of L-Corp. Today’s agenda includes four meetings, one of them with the board, an hour of lab time, a brief lunch, and a visit to Florence in late afternoon.

It’s the visit with Florence that troubles her the most. The exposure to the strange artifact gave her unsettling dreams, and she woke in a cold sweat after a particularly gruesome one. In that one, she’d had no control over her body, only watched in horror as another person used her abilities to harm all she loved.

Kara had woken too, and her gentle reassurances had helped Lena fall back asleep, this time with no dreams.

Diving into work to escape the nightmares is how she copes. Perhaps not the healthiest, but undoing all her bad coping mechanisms will take far longer than just admitting they exist.

Rojarias:

Tomorrow morning? Sam reeled from the news. That gave her very little time to pack and prepare Ruby for Sam being gone a week or two.

Yet here she was again, unable to say no. Especially not when two beautiful women were looking at her expectantly.

Damn, Sam was too gay for this. “All right. Tomorrow it is.”

14. Have you ever seen/read anything made by the person who tagged you? If so, what was it and what was your favourite thing about it? (pick a favourite if there are several)

Yes, I have. I'm not entirely sure what exactly they published on AO3 however. I found the tiny Kara piece absolutely hilarious.

15. Do you leave comments on fandom works, and if so how would you describe your comment style?

I do leave comments, yes. I share my enjoyment of the piece, sections that really stood out to me, and/or an overall feeling I got from the piece. I'm trying to be more consistent about it since I know how much comments mean to me as a writer, and I know other writers enjoy them too!

16. How many works in progress do you currently have? Will you finish them all?

Original fiction: (on hiatus but I do plan on finishing) 3

Korrasami: 2 (plan on finishing them, yes).

Supercorp: 3 (yes, plan on finishing them.)

Rojarias: 1 (yes, I need to get on this as it's due next month actually).

Art for Supercorp: 1 (I also need to work on finishing this before the due date next month. I got the rough sketch and need to run it by the author to make sure it's what they want, before I go to town inking it).

17. what’s the longest it’s ever taken you to finish a fandom project?

Shared Moments: Books 1 through 3 (the finished ones) took me a year. A million words no less. Whew. I'm working on Book 3.5 now. I tend toward longer works, which takes a few months to complete.

My shorter fiction (the ficlets) take less than an hour usually.

For art, it takes me one to three weeks.

18. Describe the thing you made most recently in a way that is technically true, but also completely misleading. Link the thing if it’s published!

These paralleled kisses shake their world. (A chapter for Unraveling Realities)

19. Do you ever engage with fanworks for a fandom you’re not in? Which one(s) and how did you get into it?

I'm not really sure what counts as being "in" a fandom or not. If I enjoy something, I'll engage with it, but does the engagement mean I'm "in" the fandom now? Or do I have to create something and talk with others in the fandom to be considered "in?" How does this work?

20. Recommend a fan work from your fandom to your followers

I absolutely adore Make this your home by pcrtifacts so much I even made fanart for it. It's not finished, but it's regularly updated and so, so good.

Suggested tag list, but there are no rules here, follow your heart.

A mutual you have never actually spoken to but think seems cool -- All my mutuals are really cool! And I'd love to read more of their stuff. Thanks all of you for sharing your stuff!!

The most recent person whose content you engaged with (eg read a fic, reblogged art, whatever form you feel best fits) -- I'm not sure? Maybe the person I reblogged this from?

Someone whose content you saw via tags/reblogs and you followed them because of it @luthordamnvers (I honestly love the indepth knowledge of the show nic has, how willing to share that knowledge, nic's kindness, the fics they write. Honestly, all around wonderful person.)

Someone in your fandom that you think makes cool things @ekingston (Shape of Soup being my favorite plus the art is amazing.)

Someone in a different fandom that you think makes cool things (this is hard. I really only seem to follow or find Korrasami, Supercorp, and on rarer occasions Rojarias or Dansen. There's some Star Wars folks that do fun things, but I can't remember their usernames tho.)

Someone you always tag on things like this @nottawriter

Someone you have never tagged before (I can't remember who I tagged before, so I guess whoever wants to play this game?)

Someone you would like to get to know better @pcrtifacts (love, love their make this place your home fic. And chatting in comments with pcrtifacts has been lovely.)

Someone who makes art you like -- @snazzy-korra (honestly, she's an all around amazing person, and Iove all her art and chatting with her. So grateful for our chats too.)

Someone who writes fics you like: @fazedlight (I seriously love everything mel writes. It's all so damn good. I even wrote a fanfic continuation of a piece I really liked of mel's ficlets. First and only time I've ever done that.)

I suspect some of these people have been tagged multiple times. My apologies if so. But I did want y'all to know how you're appreciated and how much I enjoy your content too. :)

#korrasami #supercorp #writing #writer #fandom questions #just for fun

15 notes · View notes

Last Seen Blogs

denver1971

Untitled

thongtacconghanoire

Thông tắc cống

neverknoah

how can you live before you die?

voidless-face

Fading Away

remington1369

Untitled