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kamaluhkhan · 1 year

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if it's real, if it's sweet

pairing: shuri x fem!reader

summary: you and shuri are pretty much living in domestic bliss, until a double date leads to a revelation about your relationship. your reconciliation involves you fucking shuri like no other girl has before and giving shuri the best orgasm(s) of her life (and vice versa). let's just say....the two of you live happily ever after <3

warnings: fluff, angst (reader and shuri have an argument), and smut!! mostly sub!shuri, oral (reader and shuri receiving), spitting, squirting, strap-on, tribbing...enjoy :)

song inspo: "cherry" by FLETCHER and hayley kiyoko

a/n: hello! this fic is kind of a part 2 of my first fic i'm not wanting anything (but your loving, your body, and a little bit of your brain) but not much context is needed. there is a lot of plot and smut is mostly at the end. this is set between endgame and wakanda forever. i might do a part 3 that would be very angsty, so stay tuned. also if you're wondering my fancast for harry osborn it's jonathan daviss and for peter parker it's nico hiraga (sorry tom holland!)

"fuck, shuri," you moaned as her tongue touched your folds. "we don't have time for this...."

you had class in an hour and shuri had to get to work, but the combination of the hot water hitting your skin and shuri's tongue in your cunt was something you did not want to give up just yet - even if you didn't want to admit it.

"usana," shuri scolded, looking up at you innocently, as if she wasn't the one who decided to push you against the shower wall and get on her knees in front of you. "it was your idea to shower together this morning."

"well, sorry for wanting to save water," you breathed, your grip tightening on her curls. "the planet is dying."

shuri pulled away from you once more, lips shining with your slick. "well, i didn't realize you cared so much about the environment. if that's all this is...." she got up to her feet and turned off the water. "we better get going, pretty girl."

you whined at the loss of contact and clenched your thighs together at the nickname, something that did not go unnoticed by shuri. shuri ran her tongue across her bottom lip before leaning forward to kiss you, your back pushed against the cool tile and the taste of you faint on her tongue.

hearing your alarm go off reminded you that there were other responsibilities you each had to attend to. reluctantly, the two of you dried off and made your way to your (shared) bedroom. you put on a matching bright orange boyshort / bralette combo before slipping on some jeans and an orange cropped sweater, and moving on to your makeup.

as you got ready, you watched in the mirror as shuri looked in the closet for something to wear, currently only dressed in black briefs and a sports bra. once she picked out an outfit, her eyes caught yours in the mirror.

"what?" she asked, slipping on a white mesh top.

you smiled, swiping on some orange eyeshadow (shuri might have been the princess of wakanda, but you were the queen of coordination). even though shuri was moving in at the end of the month -- she needed to go tie up some loose ends in wakanda before coming to live in new york long term -- you loved how comfortably she already fit into your life here. you loved seeing her clothes in your closet, the lava lamp she spotted at a thrift store on the corner of the desk, the photobooth strip of the two of you at a surprise birthday party you'd thrown her last weekend (everyone had a great time and danced and drank until late....needless to say you and shuri showed up very hungover to pepper potts' baby shower the next morning). you loved how you could smell your papaya body wash on her skin. you loved waking up with her arm around your waist, how she mumbled in her sleep about calculations she needed to get done. you loved how she took the subway with you to class, how she visited you at work when you had a slow shift. the two of you had been together for a few years, but your lives had never been this intertwined.

"nothing," you finally responded, finishing with a layer of mango lip gloss on your lips. "don't forget we have that double date tonight."

shuri groaned. "do we have to?"

you didn't particularly want to have dinner with your roommate and his (somewhat) pretentious boyfriend either, but peter parker has been your best friend and partner in crime-fighting for years as well. you owed it to him to give harry osborn a chance.

"if harry's spending more time with pete, it means he'll be spending more time here, so it's probably best that we all get along," you reasoned. you walked over to where shuri was examining her outfit in the full length mirror and wrapped your arms around her waist. she leaned back into your chest, sighing. "please?" you trailed kisses down her neck for good measure.

"fine, i'll do it."

"amazing!" you planted one last kiss on the corner of her mouth before pulling away and gathering your things for class. "the dinner's at 7, but we should probably come back here to change into something nicer. maybe we can meet here and walk over together?"

shuri nodded just as another alarm went off from your phone. "how many alarms do you have?"

"too many, as necessary as they may be," you declared brightly, pressing the cancel button and kissing shuri one last time. you pulled away and she groaned, taking the opportunity to move your shirt slightly and leave bites on your exposed collarbone. you checked the time on your phone.

maybe you could spare a little more time.

the double date was at some fancy italian restaurant in the upper west side. you each ordered pasta dishes and harry ordered a bottle of red wine for the table. the wine came quickly, but given how busy the restaurant was, you anticipated your food would take longer. meanwhile, the conversation flowed naturally from awkward small talk about the weather, to current tv show obsessions (you and shuri were bingeing project runway), to work at oscorp (where you, peter, and harry were interns), and finally to college classes. that's how you found yourself ranting about the lecture in your molecular engineering class from that afternoon.

"i mean no offense to tony - loved the guy - but i know for a fact that my super smart sexy girlfriend cracked that technology years before he did," you declared. "so the fact that my professor -- this white woman, by the way -- uplifts stark tech as the beacon of the future is total bullshit."

"that is total bullshit," harry agreed. "colonizers gonna colonize, i guess."

shuri laughed, a sound you would never get tired of hearing. she had her right arm casually draped across the back of your chair as she held her glass in her left hand, taking occasional sips.

"i mean most of the avengers use nanotech now, right?" harry was directing his question at you, since to his knowledge you were the only avenger at the table, but peter seemed to have forgot that he had a secret identity.

"most of us, yeah," peter answered. you nudged his foot under the table. "ow!" he exclaimed, but once he looked at you, he realized his slip up. "most of them," he corrected, chuckling awkwardly and avoiding harry's gaze. "at least that's what i can gather from my stark internship."

it took a lot in you to not roll your eyes at the fact that peter was still using the 'stark internship' excuse, but harry seemed to buy it.

"anyways, y/n, finish your story," peter suggested.

"well, that's basically what i said in class," you explained.

"that your super smart sexy girlfriend cracked nanotechnology years before tony stark?" shuri wondered.

you shrugged. "pretty much. i also said something about colonizers, but i forget what exactly."

shuri grinned. "that's my girl," she leaned over to plant a kiss on your cheek.

a few waiters came over to bring plates full of pasta, and you all thanked them. your stomach grumbled at the delicious smell, a reminder that you had barely eating all day in between classes. you were so ready to dig in to some quality fettucine alfredo.

"you guys really are a power couple," harry pointed out, gesturing between you and shuri as you started to eat. "how long have you two been together?"

you swallowed a mouthful of pasta. "well, we met right after the avengers split up because of the sokovia accords," you started, clearing your throat. it certainly wasn't your favorite time of your life, but something good obviously did come from that time. if none of it happened, you might not have gotten together with shuri.

"steve dropped me off in wakanda -- i was freshly 18 and he was worried what would happen to me if i went back to new york. so, i stayed there for a while and that's how i met this one." you nudged shuri playfully with your elbow, and she moved a hand under the table to squeeze your upper thigh. "she showed me around, we worked in the lab together and we were friends for a while, of course, but our first non-platonic date was the night before i left wakanda. she brought be up to the top of mount bashenga, we shared a bottle of mango soju that t'challa brought back from korea and then we...." you trailed off, not wanting to necessarily go into the physical details of your first time together. "long story short, we've been girlfriends ever since."

"well, that wasn't our first official date, though," shuri said, taking a sip of her wine.

"oh?" you tilted your head, wondering if your memory was off. but, no, you were sure. it was the night before you left wakanda - it couldn't have been before and it couldn't have been later. your entire relationship had been long distance until recently.

"i visited you in the fall," shuri recounted. "you took me to magnolia bakery to get that banana pudding, we walked around central park, and then we slept together in your dorm while your roommate was at a frat party - that was when we became exclusive."

you chewed slowly, ingesting her words. "that was a few months after i left wakanda though." shuri nodded. "we were already together."

"yeah," shuri agreed. "but weren't exclusive."

"okay, you keep saying that word." at this point, you had completely forgotten your dinner and your double date. "what does that mean, though?"

"like, we were seeing other people," shuri stated casually. she was still eating her pasta, and you grabbed the fork out of her hand. "i wasn't finished with that."

"so you were sleeping with other people? while we were together?"

"well...yeah."

peter's mouth practically dropped to the floor, and harry almost choked on a piece of penne.

you, on the other hand, were silent, frozen. it shouldn't have been that big of a deal - maybe you would have agreed to do the whole friends with benefits thing - but you and shuri clearly hadn't been on the same page. you fell for her, hard and fast, but it didn't seem like she would say the same for you. and you were sure that you'd had the are we exclusive? conversation before you parted ways.

suddenly, your avengers buzzer (an addition made at the request of carol danvers - she swore by them) went off.

harry cleared his throat. "avengers business?"

"yeah," you replied, dropping shuri's fork back in her plate. you glanced at peter, who just shook his head slightly. he would have to sit this one out. "i have to go."

shuri started to call out your name, but you were already out the door.

when you got home later that night, shuri was still up, sitting in the living room with one lamp on. she hadn't changed from dinner, still wearing her patterned suit, but had unbuttoned the top even more. she looked way too good, and if you weren't currently frustrated at her, you would have suggested going to the bedroom right away.

"peter is sleeping at harry's."

"okay," you replied crisply.

you walked to your bedroom and removed your supersuit, looking for some comfortable clothes to wear. your entire body ached, your head throbbing.

"are we going to talk about it, or are you just going to shut me out?"

you groaned, way too exhausted after dealing with a flying green goblin terrorizing midtown. you didn't want to have to deal with this right now. searching through your drawers, you eventually found some sleep shorts and the i <3 wakanda t-shirt shuri had gotten you as a joke.

"i'm tired, shuri." you sat on the bed and started rubbing some lavender body butter on your arms and legs.

"no, you're angry," shuri countered, leaning against the doorframe and watching you go through your nightly ritual.

"can't i be both?" you got up, took off your bra, and slipped on your shorts. you turned to shuri just in time to watch her stare at your bare chest before you finally put on your t-shirt.

"look, you have nothing to be angry about. those first few months, we were keeping it casual, yeah? we were -- how do you americans call it -- friends with benefit."

the way she stated it as though she was explaining scientific theories, the way she was being so casual now like you were overreacting, sent a wave of frustration through your body.

"you can't be fucking serious right now!"

"i don't understand why this is such a big deal! it was years ago!"

you scoffed. "i thought that what we had was real from the start, okay? friends with benefits only works when there are no strings attached, and i remember us very clearly having strings attached. there's no way i would have - i don't know - been so vulnerable with you if i thought it was just sex."

"that's the friend part," shuri continued matter-of-factly. she finally walked into the room, removing her suit jacket and unbuttoning her shirt even more. before long, her top half was only covered by a black sports bra.

you scoffed. "if that's how you act with friends, then i seriously think you need to follow up with the rest of the girls you fucked at the time. how many were there, anyways?"

shuri hesitated.

"answer the question, shuri," you snapped.

"i like sex, you know that! you weren't there, so i had to find other girls to sleep with."

"yeah, i like sex, too! and normally i wouldn't judge you, but we had agreed--"

"we had not agreed ---"

"we had!

"can we agree to disagree? what's the big deal anyways?"

"well, the big deal is that while you were busy sleeping with other girls, i was in my dorm, waiting to spend all my international minutes on a call that would go to voicemail because - oh !- you were apparently busy sleeping with other girls!"

"i kept telling you to use the kimoyo beads i gave you," shuri mumbled.

"are serious right now?" you exclaimed. "i spent most of that semester waiting for you, thinking about you - and you probably couldn't have cared less! i was stressed and lonely and - yeah, i'll say it - horny, while i could have been out having fun too."

"that's not my fault," shuri scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest. "i doubt you missed that many opportunities."

"oh? how can you be so sure?"

"well, no one knew that you were an avenger then."

when you first started being an avenger, you were a kid. it wasn't until well after you were 18, after the accords and in a desperate plea to get steve and the others to return, that you revealed your identity to the world, press conference and all. which meant that shuri had a point: during your first semester at empire state university, no one knew that you were an avenger.

"so you're saying that girls would only fuck me if they thought i was a superhero?"

"i'm not saying that's the only reason, but it is a big one."

it took a second for the implication of her words to fully sink in. suddenly, the room felt smaller and you hated every reminder that you and shuri were building a life, here, together.

"is that why we got together in the first place? you wanted to fuck a superhero?"

shuri froze, as if she too just understood the turn your argument had taken.

"shuri. answer the fucking question. is that the reason we got together?" her silence made you claustrophobic, and, again, you were way too tired to deal with this. "i'm gonna sleep at mj's." you were about to grab your phone and keys before shuri stopped you.

"wait. baby, please wait," she pleaded. "i didn't mean -- just, let me explain, okay? please."

you looked at her, jaw tense and eyes searching yours, and you couldn't resist. you just had to hear her out. she sat on the edge of the bed, gesturing at you to join her, but you remained standing, arms crossed and waiting for an explanation.

"maybe....maybe i was intrigued by the fact you were an avenger. i thought you were so cool and badass and i wanted to know you, like really know you. and once i did, i couldn't help but fall for you. i wanted to be with you."

"yeah, you fucking other girls really reflects that."

"let me finish," shuri sighed. "when you went back to new york, i didn't think we'd last. i was scared that our time together in wakanda was just some short, passionate fling for you and you'd forget all about me. or, worse, you'd realize that you just want to be friends and i would be stuck alone, pining for you. sleeping with other people was just a protective measure, i guess."

while you were surprised by her confession, you didn't feel entirely satisfied. you did, however, finally sit on the bed next to her. "you didn't think to talk to me about any of this? to ask whether or not i was invested in our relationship?"

"i'm good with calculations, y/n, not people."

being this close to her, you couldn't help but stare at shuri: at the way her jaw looked sharper in the moonlight, her eyes darker, her lips slightly parted as she waited for you to say something.

"i guess it would have been nice to know how much you thought about me," you whispered.

shuri brings her hand up your thigh and under your shirt, stroking the skin underneath your breast with her thumb. you shuddered at the contact.

"i thought about you all the time. bast, i even called other girls by your name during sex. multiple times."

weirdly, you felt a little proud at that. "i guess i really made an impression on you," you hummed. "tell me: did any of those other girls fuck you better than me?" you asked, voice low.

shuri removed her hand from your body, shrugging. "maybe."

"shuri," you warned. "don't."

"or what?" she challenged, leaning forward, the ghost of a smirk on her lips. "are you gonna punish me? because if you want to have your way with me....i wouldn't stop you."

with that, you pushed her onto the bed. she let out a yelp when her back hit the mattress. once you were hovering over her, legs and arms on either side of her body, you did what you yearned to do as soon as you walked in earlier that night: you kissed her, passionately, deeply. you bit her lip as you pulled away.

"you really want that - for me to have my way with you?"

shuri whimpered. "yes."

"you might regret saying that, usana."

shuri loved it when you spoke xhosa, you knew that. she leaned up to capture your lips, but you had other plans.

you kissed down her jaw, her neck, her exposed chest and shoulders down to her stomach. after you fumbled with the button of her pants, shuri lifted her hips from the bed so that you could remove them. once the pants were thrown on the floor, you kissed her core through her briefs, feeling a wet spot against your lips.

quickly, you took off her briefs, being greeted by her glistening pussy. blowing onto her folds, you ran your tongue from her hole to her clit, loving how you already felt her slick coating your lips. shuri lifted her legs so they rested on your shoulders. with this angle, you gathered some of her slick and sunk two fingers into her heat.

"gods, i've barely touched you and you're already about to come," you teased, feeling her clench around your fingers. "are you going to come for me?" all you got in response was whine. with your other hand, you reached up to pinch the side of her hip. "answer me, princess."

shuri propped herself up on her elbows to look at you, just as you removed your mouth from her.

"yes!" she cried. you'd be lying if you said you didn't feel throbbing between your thighs, hearing how frantic her voice sounded - like she needed you and only you. "please, just do something."

at her request, you moved up the bed so that the two of you were face to face, one of your hands holding her chin while the other was still two fingers deep in her cunt.

with your thumb, you traced over her lips. "open." shuri obeyed you instantly, and you couldn't help but clench your thighs together - you had never seen her this desperate. you spat in her mouth, heart racing as you watched her swallow the combination of your saliva and her cum without question.

you continued fucking her with your fingers until she moaned, louder and louder as she reached her peak.

removing your fingers from her pussy, you locked eyes with her as you brought your glistening fingers to your mouth and sucked off her juices. then, you kissed the tattoo underneath her ear, whispering: "have i ever told you that you're the sweetest thing i've ever tasted?"

when shuri smiled, you couldn't help but think how gorgeous she was, how vulnerable she was underneath you, how she was yours. unfortunately, you also couldn't help but think that there was a time when you thought she was yours and yours alone, while there were other girls with her like this.

so, you decided then that you weren't quite done with her.

"you really want me to have my way with you?" you asked once more, just to be sure.

"yes. anything."

you kissed her again, this time rougher than the last. "where's that new strap you made?"

shuri gestured to the closet. you stripped down before retrieving the strap - bigger than any either of you had used on the other before - and adjusted it around your hips. when you turned back to the bed, shuri was completely naked, nipples perked against the cold air, thighs shining from her previous orgasm.

"turn around," you instructed. "on your knees."

again, shuri complied. you knelt behind her on the bed, grasping her hips. you looked down at her cunt, already dripping, and she gasped when she felt you spit onto her hole. without further ado, you thrusted forward.

you both moaned when you started to enter her. shuri invented a strap that allowed both the wearer and the receiver to feel pleasure; hell, you could even feel her walls clench around you, how deep you were inside her. technology was a beautiful thing.

"you okay, baby?" you asked once you were halfway inside her.

"yes," she breathed. she turned her head as much as she could towards you. "keep going."

once you were fully inside her, strap nestled in her warm cunt, your thighs met her ass. you slipped out slightly, only to thrust back in, over and over, until shuri was a moaning mess beneath you. her body started to shake and she almost collapsed onto her elbows, so you reached one hand to her neck and lifted her up so that your nipples brushed against her back.

"more," she moaned, reaching an arm back to help guide your hips forward, faster.

you kissed the back of her neck, trailing your hand down from her neck to pinch one of her nipples. you moved your other hand to her clit, rubbing the nub in tight circles and gathering as much slick as you could. you then took those same fingers and shoved them into her mouth, allowing her to taste her sweetness.

you almost came right then and there, watching how she truly let you have your way with her body. "i never knew you were such a slut," you taunted. you took your fingers out of her mouth so shuri could respond, instead grasping her neck once more, applying just the slightest pressure you knew drove her crazy.

"only for you," she groaned.

after a particularly hard thrust, shuri came, bursting all over the sheets. she collapsed forward on the bed, breathing hard.

"did you just...." the wet stains on the purple silk sheets were enough evidence. shuri just squirted.

shuri laughed, breathlessly. "fuck. i've never done that before."

you took off the strap and turned her over. her skin glistened with sweat and her curls were stuck to her forehead, but shuri would never not be beautiful.

"one more time for me, okay, pretty girl? i want to feel you against me," you whispered. "i want to watch you fall apart, knowing that i'm the one who makes you feel this good."

shuri nodded, allowing you to adjust your positions so that your cunts were touching. both of you were so worked up, you from watching shuri fall apart twice and shuri from, well, her two previous orgasms, that it didn't take long for you to feel her gush against you, and vice versa.

strings of cum connected you as you removed your body from hers. for a few seconds, you both lay on your backs, staring up at the ceiling and trying to catch your breath.

"i'm sorry," shuri finally said. she shifted her body to lay on her side, facing you. "i almost messed this up but --"

"it's fine," you said, turning your head towards her. "it was a misunderstanding."

"i just...." shuri sighs, voice trembling slightly. "i just want to assure you that i would never want to do anything to hurt you. what we have is more real that anything i ever had with any other girl. you were right, it has been like that from the start, even if i almost messed it up."

you used your thumb to wipe away a tear from shuri's cheek. "are you crying because i gave you the best orgasm of your life?"

despite being in tears, shuri laughed. "i'm crying because i love you."

"i love you too, shuri," you assured her, your finger tracing the tattoo on the side of her arm. "also we should probably take a shower before sleeping."

shuri hummed. "you and your showers." the two of you laughed, remembering this morning. "before that, i have something for you...." she got up and grabbed a paper bag on the floor, handing it to you.

one eyebrow raised, you opened the bag and pulled out a bottle of lychee soju. your expression softened. "it was lychee soju," you mused, looking between the bottle and shuri.

"see, i do remember!" shuri grinned. she slipped on her underwear and your sleep shirt before running to the kitchen to grab some mugs. shuri poured the drink into them and handed you one.

as you sipped the bittersweet liquid, you couldn't help but think: you and shuri. this was real.

#shuri #shuri smut #shuri fanfiction #shuri x reader #princess shuri #shuri udaku #shuri x y/n #black panther: wakanda forever #black panther #shuri fluff #shuri angst #shuri fic #shuri imagine #shuri x you #Spotify #saf writes

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sugasimz · 1 year

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RANDOM INSPO CANVAS 🪫🤎.|| DECOR DOWNLOAD!!

I have a décor piece for you guys 🤎, I’ve been holding this one close to my chest for a little bit because I didn’t know which way I wanted to take these preview pics aesthetically 😭.

But I’m very satisfied with how these pics came out 🥰.

Now on to what you really care about 😂!

I Couldn’t find the link to the original post so I included the mesh 🥴.

Info 🪫.

• Recolor (Mesh Included) 🤎.

• Textures found on Pinterest but made by me🪫.

• 21 Swatches (9) shown) 🤎.

• 100% credit 100% to the creator Baufive 🪫.

• Detachable frame included with mesh 🤎.

• Don’t claim as yours 💁🏾‍♀️.

More pics on Patreon

Let me know if there are any problems 🪫🤎!

Link:🪫.

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letomills · 6 months

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Download: SFS / Mega

Outfits that give your sims the appearance of merfolk, for ages toddlers to elders. Recommended for use alongside @midgethetree's Mermaid mod (further mods for merfolks by Midge here). Note however that these outfits are enabled not just for swimwear but for all clothing categories, to accomodate simmers who play a fully underwater neighborhood (inspo). If you want to change the categorization of clothing in bulk, I can recommend the Outfit Organizer or the BSOK editor.

This is actually the first part of a three-part set that will also include conversions of these outfits for custom body shapes. Edit: part 2 - part 3.

Swatches and details below the cut.

The meshes

Apart from the EM mesh which is new, all meshes are slightly edited versions of the meshes from Marvine's Merfolk project, or @jellymeduza's versions of those meshes when applicable (bottom of this post). Children to elders have fat morphs, teens and adults additionally have preg morphs.

All of them had a visible neck seam which I fixed. Example on AF:

(Note that I made this edit only after taking the UF swatches below.)

I also modified the fat morphs on the CU and AM meshes (they were 100% Maxis-match, I made them a bit smoother and, well, less weird, hopefully).

Polycounts are very low, ranging from 1,404 for PU to 1,934 for UF.

The recolors

All recolors have sortindex numbers that ensure that they will appear neatly arranged set by set in your CAS catalogue, after all of your other CC clothing (right before the Maxis stuff).

All are enabled for all clothing categories including maternity.

Shoe sounds are set to none.

The textures, though I made edits to most of them, were taken from other creators credited below.

TF & AF use the same textures: the TF recolors can be either standalone or repo'd to AF. TM & AM & EM use the same textures: the TM and EM recolors can be either standalone or repo'd to AM. CU and PU have their own respective textures.

Marie Fay

Textures edited from Marie Fay's beautiful The Little Mermaid set. I erased the portion of semi-sheer texture that went up the back as it didn't look great on deep skintones. Compared to the original recolor files, unnecessary bump maps have been removed (the TM recolors don't appear weirdly mislit and are now useable) + shoe sounds have been set to none + sortindex numbers have been changed.

Simsllama Kosmiks

Textures edited from @simsllama's Kosmik recolors. Same as above, I cleaned up the back (you can see how it was before clean-up on the fifth picture I shared here), removed unnecesary bump maps, fixed the shoe sounds and edited the sortindex numbers. Also adapted for toddlers.

Midge

Textures edited from @midgethetree's mermaid tails. I reduced the exposure on the F bra, replaced the F bottom textures with the M textures, smoothed the waist seams (there was a white cast that looked weird on deep skintones), fixed the texture bleeding onto the fingers, adapted for EF by replacing the AF bra with the Marie Fay EF bra that Simsllama also used above, adapted for toddlers. The grey recolor is now available for all ages.

JuBeos + RavenKitty

Textures taken from this post by Meshy. I just had to adapt them for UM, EF, CU and PU, fix shoe sounds, edit sortindex.

Cactus

Also textures taken from this post by Meshy. Adapted them for UM, EF, CU and PU, fixed shoe sounds, edited sortindex.

Lady Turquoise

Textures taken and adapted from Meshy's post. Flat-chested shapes (PU, CU & UM) only get one version. No shoe sound, proper sortindexing.

Misc

Textures 1, 3, 4 and 5 are from Meshy's post, texture 6 is from another Meshy post, texture 2 is from here, texture 7 is by Sunken-Woglinde (from here and here). Adapted for missing ages, fixed shoe sounds, sortindexed, yadda yadda.

Sunken-Woglinde Metallics

Textures originally by Sunken-Woglinde, though I edited the UF version into its own thing (it's giving Catallena but I'm not mad at it). Necklaces by Liana (from here, here and here). Many edits including reducing the contrast on the bump map. No shoe sounds, etc.

The T

Original texture by The T. Very cool textured matte appearance thanks to a beautiful bump map. Recolors 2-8 are by me, toddler texture replaced to match everybody else. Usual file edits.

Sherahbim & Van

Original texture is Sherahbim's Maiden of the Sea, which Van recolored. Adapted to missing ages and did the usual file edits.

And that's it, let me know if you see any issues!

#sims 2 #download #sims 2 cc #ts2cc #s2cc #sims 2 download #s2cc merfolk

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ihavemanyhusbands · 1 year

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Honey Bun (18+ Series)

(Aaron Hotchner x Stripper!Reader)

Part 2 // MINORS DNI

WC: 2.2k words

Song Inspo: Time - Sevdaliza

Series Warnings: Eventual smut, bit of an age gap (placing reader at around 25-26), cursing, alcohol consumption, formalized sex work (Stripper/Pole Dancer), occasional angst, drama, and that's all I can think of rn but lmk if I missed anything!

A/N: Can you hear that? That's me screaming in the distance as I wrote this. PLS ENJOY AAAAA!!!

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Aaron had been stuck in your head all day. You couldn’t help it, really. Even when you tried to concentrate on other things, your mind would betray you and stray back to him. It was puzzling, but also pretty frustrating.

You thought about him as you got ready backstage — frosty blue eyeshadow that matched your outfit, lips irresistibly glossy, smelling of frangipani and vetiver. Eyes roaming over your reflection, you thought of just how good your name sounded on his lips. How titillating it was that he’d called you Honey, entirely too close to being in on your secret.

For once, flirting had not felt fake or uncomfortable! And not to mention how respectful he was…

You thought of his piercing gaze and the way the low light glinted in his dark eyes. You tried to imagine him in the crowd, standing out among all those anonymous faces watching you on stage now.

An expanse of bare skin aglow in the neon lights; Strong limbs and taught muscles. Bending and swaying and making pretty shapes as you spun on the pole.

How might he look at you then?

You tried — really tried — not to think about that too much as you absently gathered your newly earned riches. Automatically, you went straight backstage to stash it away with all your things.

“You seem distracted, Honey Bunny,” Gia — your closest friend at the Crimson Lounge — commented, adjusting her mesh top in front of the mirror.

You snapped back to attention. “Do I?”

“Yeah, you’ve been a little spacey. Everything okay?” She asked. “All good with Sadie?”

You nodded quickly, forcing yourself not to sigh. Great, you had a silly little crush and suddenly it was like you forgot how to act. You needed to stay sharp, there was no time to be pussyfooting around.

“Yeah, Sadie’s fine. She’s got midterms right now, so she’s been stressed,” you said. “I guess I’m just not in the zone today.”

Sadie was your younger sister, who was living with you while she went to community college. She was one of the main reasons you worked two jobs.

After your mother passed away and your father remarried and left, you took it upon yourself to look after her. You basically had to drop out of college in your first year and start working in order to keep a roof over your heads and food on the table.

She wanted to dance, too, which you had no problem with, but you told her to finish her education first. You wanted at least one of you to have a degree.

“Are you sure? You know you can tell me anything, right?” Gia said, looking at you through the mirror’s reflection.

You smiled appreciatively, grabbing your lip gloss to reapply. “Yes, I know. But all’s good, really.”

In all the time you’d known Gia, your love life had been practically nonexistent. Sure, you’d unfortunately dated one or two assholes, but you never let it get too far. It was better to be alone than in bad company.

She knew some of your worst stories and would never judge you, but you didn’t really want to tell her about Aaron. You didn’t want to jinx it, in a strange way, but there was also not a lot to tell.

Plus, it was kind of nice to have the secret to yourself for now.

“If you say so,” she conceded as you stepped up to the mirror next to her. “Here, I’m up soon, give me a lil bunny kiss for good luck.”

You turned to face her with a small chuckle, and the two of you gingerly rubbed noses together.

—————————

“Well, well… look who’s back,” you said with a smirk as Aaron sat on a stool by the bar.

He smiled lopsidedly. “It’s nice to see you again, Honey.”

Almost a full week had passed since you last saw him. Most of those days, you would sneak hopeful glances at the door. Whenever she caught you, Josephine would snicker to herself, shaking her head in amusement.

You were actually kind of surprised he’d actually shown up again, especially so close to the end of the night, but you weren’t going to complain.

You poured him his drink and slid it over. “So, you couldn’t resist the lure of the Duchess for too long, huh?”

He chuckled, taking a sip of scotch. “Well, this is actually kind of embarrassing but… I came in on Saturday, but you weren’t here. Didn’t stay long then.”

Your traitorous heart began pounding in your chest. You snuck a glance at Josephine, who was busy closing someone’s tab. Had she seen him?

“Oh, yeah, I’m not here on weekends. I have another job,” you shrugged, trying to be nonchalant.

“Where?” He asked seemingly before he could think about it.

You raised an eyebrow. “Why? So you can come stalk me there, too?”

His cheeks actually grew red and his eyes widened a little. “Um… ha, well, I-”

“I’m just kidding, silly!” You chuckled. “I’m sorry, you should see the look on your face.”

He shook his head, visibly relaxing. “Just felt like yanking my chain, didn’t you?”

“It is kind of fun,” you smirked.

“So you are a busy girl, you weren’t kidding,” he commented, with admiration in his tone. “And of course, you don’t have to tell me about all that you do.”

“A girl has a right to secrets, doesn’t she?”

“I do like a little bit of mystery…”

“What about you?” You asked. “You haven’t told me what you do.”

“Well I’m an open book, so I’ll tell you.” He brought something out from his pocket, opening it to reveal an FBI badge. “I’m a profiler with the FBI. Formerly a lawyer.”

How fitting, you thought to yourself. Still, you couldn’t help but deflate a little at this revelation. Not that you were expecting anything with him, but this made the chances much slimmer.

“No wonder you’re a workaholic,” you said. “Needing to catch so many bad guys out there and all.”

“I try to,” he looked down at this glass, nodding absently.

He seemed lost in thought for a moment, so you decided not to press the issue. When he looked back up, he’d decided to change the subject.

“This is going to sound weird, but do you know of a good place to get pancakes in the middle of the night?”

—————————

And so you found yourself sitting in a booth across from Aaron, the much brighter lights of the 24 hour diner letting you get a better look at him.

It was two AM and he looked exhausted but content, not to mention oh-so-ruggedly handsome. You hoped you didn’t look worse for wear under the fluorescent glow.

He’d gotten a short stack of buttermilk pancakes with a side of bacon, which he was now digging into with fervor. You’d opted for some fries and a vanilla milkshake to dip them into.

“Someone was hungry,” you commented, utterly amused.

“Famished,” he confirmed, wiping some maple syrup from the corner of his lips with a napkin. “Sorry if I’m losing my manners a little bit here.”

“All good, I’m kind of enjoying it actually,” you giggled, dipping a fry into your shake. “This is one of my favorite treats.”

“Can I try?”

“Sure, come closer,” you said, and he leaned forward so you could feed it to him.

“Hmm, not bad. It’s interesting.”

“My little sister and I used to have it all the time when we were kids. My mom got us into it,” you said, smiling a little at the memories. “She was such a sweet tooth.”

“Always nice to honor tradition,” he smiled, understanding there was something tender about this moment. “Right in this diner, too?”

“Oh no, it was back in our hometown. That diner was close to the highway, so a bunch of trucks would always be parked outside. Bit of a seedy place, sure, but I kind of loved it. The food was great, but definitely greasy. I remember there was an old jukebox that always played things like Buddy Holly or The Mills Brothers.”

You looked out the window for a moment, mind wandering back to the past. To a time when things weren’t so complicated and you always felt safe and happy and taken care of. It all seemed so foreign now. Not that you weren’t happy these days, but… it was just different.

“So you like old, old music,” he said, bringing you back to the present. “I do like me some Mills Brothers, too.”

“Yeah, I’ll listen to anything. I love music, but there’s something about those old songs… They’ll get you.”

“Bit of a romantic, aren’t you?”

You couldn’t help but grin, feeling uncharacteristically coy. “How do you figure?”

“Hmm, let’s just say I have a knack for these things,” he smirked, pushing his empty plate to one side and leaning his arms on the table. “Have I told you yet that you are beautiful?”

“You have, but I don’t mind hearing it again.”

Your phone buzzed with a new text message from Sadie, and you saw it was nearing three AM now.

“Should we get the check?” You asked, reaching into your purse for your wallet.

“I’ll get it,” he said, waving you off as he flagged down the waitress. “And I’ll drive you home, too. No arguing about it.”

You raised both eyebrows. “Is that an order?”

“Yes.”

After settling the bill, you climbed into the passenger side of Aaron’s SUV. He handed you an aux cord so you could plug your phone in, and you decided to play some Chet Baker on shuffle.

And of course, ‘I Fall In Love Too Easily’ just had to be the first song to come up. Neither of you made any comment on it, instead remaining mostly quiet on the ride to your place. You guided him through the darkened streets, sneaking glances at his profile.

When he pulled up to your condo, you unbuckled your seatbelt but did not get out just yet. You looked at each other, both unsure of how this night would end.

“I’ve really enjoyed spending time with you,” he said finally. “I’m sorry I didn’t ask for your number last time, I just didn’t want to presume…”

Wordlessly, you extended your hand towards him. He handed you his cellphone, and you saved your information on it. You even took a selfie blowing a kiss at the camera to keep it as your contact picture, and you saw he was smiling lopsidedly as you handed his phone back.

“Problem solved,” you said with a wink. “I’ve had a really nice time, too.”

“We’ve got to figure out a better time for our next date. Can’t just take you out gallivanting at the hour between the dog and the wolf… It speaks poorly of me.”

You smirked mischievously. “Oh, so this was a date?”

He hesitated for just a brief moment, once again worried he was stepping too far. In that moment, it only made you want him more. After all, you shouldn’t even be jumping into conclusions about where this could all lead or what it meant. There was only the present.

You leaned on the dashboard between you, propping your chin on your hand and fluttering your lashes.

He swallowed hard. “I suppose I could’ve been clearer but… yes. To me it was.”

“Well, if this was a date, does that mean I can bid you a proper goodnight?” Your voice was low and sultry, eyes drawn to his lips as you leaned in even closer.

In the next second, his hand was cupping the back of your neck, pulling you in to meet his kiss. You adjusted so you were kneeling on the seat, hands on his face. Softly, he sighed your name into your mouth as you parted his lips with your tongue.

It was a slow and sweet kiss, very much exploratory. He let you set the pace, tongue tangling with yours. You let your teeth graze his bottom lip, which elicited a deliciously deep groan from him. Desire roared to life within you, and you wished you could press firmly against him.

When he tried to adjust his body, he accidentally elbowed the horn, and the two of you abruptly broke apart as it blared a single note. You momentarily shared a startled look, but then you couldn’t help but laugh.

“Forgot myself for a moment there,” he panted, also chuckling at his own clumsiness. “But I guess that’s my cue.”

You tilted your head to one side, just a little perplexed. His dark eyes were glazed over with lust, but he didn’t even ask if you’d invite him inside. For your part, you were craving more — so much more — but you weren’t going to push if he wanted to be such a gentleman.

You leaned in for another quick, chaste kiss — One that had a promise for more behind it. When you pulled away, you let your eyes rove over his face, a smirk tugging at your lips.

“Sweet dreams, Aaron,” you said as you opened the car door. “And by that, I mean I hope you dream of me.”

“I really hope so too, Honey.”

#ssa aaron hotchner #criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotchner series #aaron hotchner x stripper!reader #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #minors dni #aaron hotchner #criminal minds

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lilis-palace · 1 year

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WORK-IN-PROGRESS : A Secretaire desk

Not really a guide, but can be interesting for those who would like to know how I create an object or a set. Originally I wrote this essay for a course at my uni but I translated and simplified it.

💡☝️ INSPO

The secretaire desk is an iconic piece of Biedermeier furniture. My fascination with the elegant yet straightforward style is beyond measure.

🧊🕸️ MODELLING

I used Blender for modelling. (I made it when I was still using the old 2.7 version.) The design process for the object consumed a significant amount of my time, spanning a total of three hours.

After I finish making the model, I need to do something called "unfolding." This means turning the 3D object into a 2D mesh. Once that's done, I "burn" the shadows onto it, which gives it the final look you see below.

🎨🖌️ TEXTURE

After that, I use the Sims 4 Studio program. This is where I make sure that the object looks right with its texture and I decide how it should act in the game.

To create the special intarsia effect, I use patterns that I've already prepared in Photoshop. I carefully rotate and arrange them until they fit just right. It takes a lot of time, but the final outcome is totally worth it.

🌐✨ NORMAL & SPECULAR MAP

The Normal map is really important for objects with low levels of detail. It determines how light behaves on different surfaces. With the Normal map, even a surface that looks completely smooth can actually appear uneven when light shines on it. This creates the illusion of more intricate details without slowing down the game's performance.

In the game, they use a simpler version of the Normal map called the Bump map. To make it, I use a plugin in Photoshop and save it in a specific format called .DDS. I have to tweak the channels and choose the right settings to get it just right.

When I apply the Bump map to my Biedermeier writing cabinet with shelves, it creates small shadows at the edges of the shelves when light hits the center. This makes the shelves stand out from the flat surface and adds depth to the object.

The shine of an object is controlled by the specular map. It determines how reflective the surface appears, whether it's a shiny metal, a glossy glass, or a completely matte material. By adjusting the color values, we can create different types of shine.

In this project, I want to achieve a specific type of shine that looks like wax or honey. Fortunately, I already have a template ready for this. I just need to find it and apply it to the object in the program.

📊📐SIMS 4 STUDIO SETTINGS

After that, I need to make a bunch of tweaks to make sure the object works properly in the game. It involves doing both small and big adjustments. For example, I add tags to make it easy to find in the catalog, figure out how the surface should look, find the right spots where other objects can connect to it, decide where chairs and writing surfaces should go, and more. The first picture shows how things are set up by default, while the second one shows the changes I've made.

Throughout this whole process, I have to carefully figure out the exact positions for different parts using a coordinate system. It can be a bit tiresome and take up a lot of time.

📈 💼 WORK IN PROGRESS

First, I made a work-in-progress picture. This is how I announce the new collection.

💃🎞️ GIF

In the post, there's a gif that demonstrates various color combinations. Creating this gif involves a careful and detailed process. I have to take individual photos of all 16 color combinations for each of the two cabinets. Afterward, I need to carefully match and merge these photos together. Finally, I use an online Gif maker site to edit and finalize the gif.

📷🖼️ PREVIEW PIC

I spent a good 2 hours setting up the scene, and it wasn't easy finding the right items and creating the perfect environment. Editing the image also took me another 2 hours, as I paid close attention to every little detail.

Out of the three images you see above, the first one is the default color scheme generated by the game itself. The second image, on the other hand, was created using a program called Reshade. It's an extra tool you have to install separately, and its main purpose is to change the lighting inside the game. It adds depth and creates a whole different atmosphere. As for the third image, that's what it looks like after I adjusted the colors in Photoshop. And finally, I added shadows and highlights to the image to give it a more three-dimensional and immersive feel.

I hope you enjoyed this post and see you soon. The release date of the set is tomorrow!

#guide #ts4 historical

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seeingivy · 4 months

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so like...inspo by my sweet daisy. been feeling down in the dumps about writing in general lately, but it's always fun to self-reflect and remember all the things i've done over the past year. here are my fav fics that I wrote in 2023!

method acting - but of course. this was the first fic that I really put lots of time and effort into thinking + building and getting to see people geek with me over the fake little universe i've made is so fun and rewarding and special to me. it's one of my fics that i've poured a lot of my love and feelings into and in lots of ways, this fic has been a light on a bad day. it includes so many of my real, personal feelings (which is why it's so emo and sweet and sentimental when i write it and even more when people really connect with it for me)

blessing - aka, megumi fushiguro being a sweetheart. I find it really hard to write things that are shorter, since I feel like it won't hit as hard if I don't build it up (which i am very jealous of other writers for being able to do), but this was one of the few times I feel like I was able to do it!

king of my heart - this was one of my first fics that was really popular, and one of my best written taylor as gojo's me thinks. I also just love a good old arranged marriage trope and the lyrics meshed really easily for this one (which is one of the hardest things about writing taylor as gojos)

labyrinth - this was one of my best written ones I think!!! I am so endlessly proud of this one, just bc I feel like it's one of the few times I was able to actually articulate everything I wanted to say EXACTLY how I wanted to say it. I usually give up on a fic and post roughly whatever I had when I write something, but this was the first time I was like YES. YES THIS IS IT.

hair stylist - this was a request! and it's usually very hard for me to write requests and like them, but I really love how this one turned out. also I love goofy gojo im just a girl sue me.

#anyways #it's been a special year #I love that I get to do this #and that people read and enjoy my work!#ronnie talking to herself

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604to647 · 19 days

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WIP Wednesday (so/too many things 🫣)

Thank you for the tag @mermaidgirl30 😘

A productive week of writing! Writing Birthday Bunny for P's birthday really got me back into the groove of writing for our Safest with You couple 🥰

Ch. 15 - The BBQ is written but needs a good, scrub down edit 😂:

Clawing down your partially exposed body, clamouring to find the inside tie that separate him from your soft body, Din pauses only to pull you away from the car so he can unlock the door; as soon as it opens, he walks you backwards and helps you up onto the seat, scooting you back so your legs dangle out the door.

“There,” Din says huskily, as he finds the little knot on the right inside seam of your dress and pulls so it unfurls, “you aren’t out in the open anymore.” He spreads apart the fabric of your dress so you’re presented to him in your pretty pink mesh and ruffles lingerie set; he sucks in his breath.

“Just for you, daddy,” you coo. You knew Din wouldn’t be expecting something so flirty and naughty under the dress you had picked for what was supposed to be a casual and wholesome family event.

Ch. 16 - The Matchup is about 80% done as well:

The roar of the crowd is deafening. Despite this being an unsanctioned match, the spectators have showed up in droves, drawn in by Din’s celebrated fight history, the underlying family rivalry, or both.

When Din and the contingent from Mando’s make their ring entrance, the noise level somehow crescendos; you hold Bea and Lala’s hands and catch Paz’s eye with your own, shining bright with pride as you cheer loud. Somehow Din discerns your voice over the crowd and as he passes your row, looking calm and formidable, he finds you and his eyes soften just long enough to throw you a wink before settling back into a steely glare. Jimmy on the other hand follows behind Greef, all pumping fists and testosterone fueled howls. He hypes up the crowd even more, reaching in to fist bump you and the girls, and accepts a hair tousle from Paz’s long reaching arm.

The last part of Mi Galleta will be posted on Friday! I can't believe I finished a series 😭 I already started to miss our scowly bouncer and his Cookie, so I decided I would try my hand at @undercoverpena's April Showers Challenge for them - the opening lines are written (plus moodboard made):

“Keep your eyes open, Cookie.”

Your eyes snap open at Pero’s command, followed by a slower opening of your plush mouth into an oh shape before you let out a whimper.

He’s working you open so deftly with just two of his fingers, it’s a wonder you’re not crying out obscenities and pleading to come. But you have to stay quiet; you are, after all, at Pero’s place of work.

Finally, because I don't know what's good for me, I've had a little Bridgerton AU idea for a while, even before P showed up at the SAG Awards in Regency Prada™️. The basic premise is that Reader is a family friend of the Bridgertons, but missed her season (Daphne's) as she was travelling abroad with her father, now forced to return in order to finally enter the marriage mart two years later after her friend. Our Pboi is either Pero or Frankie, and he's Spanish nobility that's visiting London; being a good friend of Colin Bridgerton's who the latter met during his recent travels, Pero/Frankie is begrudgingly dragged to this season's events by his friend.

The thing is this/here's the thing: I want to make it childhood best friends to lovers, but I also want the SAG pictures to be my main visual inspo.

No pressure tags and anyone else who likes to do these (I do!🥰) please do! @nerdieforpedro @alltheotps

#wip wednesday #too many wips #halp #din djarin #din djarin fic #din djarin fanfiction #pero tovar #pero tovar fic #pero tovar fanfiction #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #pedro pascal characters

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serabiet · 2 years

Photo

It’s been another 84 years good grief, so might as well go over the basics when it comes to my uploads! Everything’s been compressorized, textures reimported in to reduce pixelation, morphs included, and other ages are repositoried to adults to save space and headache (mine). Let me know if something’s wrong so I can get defensive about it and then maybe fix it.

I’ll probably sooner or later revisit the mesh conversions I’ve made if I spot lumps or bad bones or any other eyesores and update the files as I do.

Ok ready!

umfb ichabodcoat 12/20:

It’s just a classic full body outfit from a few years back I made for Ichabod because I couldn’t be bothered to make the coat into a separate top at the time. I’m pretty sure I never posted it before though!

The coat’s something from the game I always wanted to use and edit, so now it’s been used and edited a little and there’s a new collar texture on it.

Just the two color options because that’s all I needed.

Polycount: 2270/1714

Available for adults and enabled for elders, has only fat morph because it was mainly intended for elders.

Credits: Pyxis for inspo, Fanseelamb for lots of the parts

Download umfb ichabodcoat (SFS)

uft 4t2 nolansims mocked mulberry 05/22:

Conversion of this sweater by Nolan-sims, but none of the original color options feature. Another version by MegaMassikaLove already exists, too, which has the original recolors! These do not conflict.

Here’s a Bodyshop swatch of the colors on teens. They’re named pretentiously (but in a cool way) so just go through the adult files to check what you want and what you don’t. Teens and elders are repositoried to those, as mentioned above.

Polycount: 2470/1753

Available as everyday/outerwear, ages teen to elder

Credits: Nolan-Sims

Download uft mockedmulberry4t2 (SFS)

uft mmnt 4t2 oversized cardigan recolors:

Back when I first discovered you could and should utilize the normal maps from Sims 4 in recolors to liven them up I experimented how to best do it. I don’t know if these first recolors were it, but they have existed since so might as well share!

The color range is four earthy and slightly depressing variations, categorized as everyday

Adults only, mesh included was edited by MegaMassika to float a bit further away from the butt and a preg morph was added as well.

Polycount: 3298/2961

Credits: Mmnt, MegaMassika

Download uft 4t2 oversizedcardigan (SFS)

uft amaryll harajuku cardigan recolors:

Awhile back I did some stuff for Bobsterosa, and these cardigan recolors came about on the side. Amaryll’s good old cardigan recolored for teens and adults, categorized as everyday

Four recolors, as seen here on teens.

Renamed meshes are included, so watch out for doubles in your downloads!

Polycount: 2236/1666

Credits: Amaryll

Download uft harajukucardigan (SFS)

ufb slacks + moccasins 04/22:

So these boots were originally a TS3 Store item for kids, called Pantucket Pat Moccasins. Then Rukisims converted them for adults and I guess got rid of the bow on the texture? And then maybe chocolatesims converted them for the SIms 2. And some time ago I finally made some edits to the mesh, and combined them with the slacks I made uhh four years ago?

Four recolors as seen on elders in bodyshop, ages teen to elder, categorized as everyday/outerwear

Polycount: 1715/1612

Oh man yeah I promised a useful recolor psd to go along with these! Here, catch! Genuine Yeti Fur from Yeti Salon floors!

Credits: Rukisims, chocolatesims

Download ufb slacksmoccasins (SFS)

ufb 4t2 GP10 workpants 05/22:

I think these were converted by someone else already but I can’t find them right now. But again, these come in colors a bit (if not exactly a lot) different to the original Sims 4 ones, and certainly not all of them.

The mesh shape goes along my Anatomy V2 body. More or less. Hard to find a balance between TS2 blockiness and TS4 gummy limbs. In progress!

Five recolors, ages teen to adult, categorized as everyday

Shoes are edited H&M sneakers (to be a bit more dynamic than just a flat sole) with misomoso’s textures

Polycount: 1428/1014

Credits: uhh EA I guessss

Download ufb 4t2GP10workpants (SFS)

OKAY END OF POST FOOTER HERE and the soundtrack to it

This got so long wow no wonder i dread uploading things because it always piles up and takes me an hour+ to write this all

#io stickdolls #s2cc #ts2 download #sims 2 download #ts2 #sims 2 #dl: clothes #in fact i had to go and look up older upload posts to check my tags and usual notes #that's how long it's been #if postimg ever pulls some photobucket shit i'm going to grumble in quiet disappointment and move my bs swatches somewhere else

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yourneighborhoodporg · 2 days

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The Guardian

Chapter 11: Alone (Part 2)

Obi-Wan Kenobi x Reader

Warnings: ANGST (like, hella angst), non-canon character deaths, descriptions of violence, animal injury/death (I’M SORRY), Reader experiencing Trauma TM, Obi doing his best.

Summary: While leading a clone battalion through a routine supply delivery, you suffer a surprise ambush. However, with Obi-Wan away leading the rendezvous as he simultaneously investigates new elements surrounding your being, you are left alone to make the hard-hitting decisions expected of leaders during The Clone Wars. But when the present meshes with the past, how will you perform as deeply buried struggles are forced to the surface?

Song Inspo: Alone — Neil Finn

Words: 9.1K

A/n: Oh boy, this one is gonna be heavy y'all. And that's all I'll say. Enjoy 😈

Previous Chapter

Series Masterlist

You lose them a thousand times in a thousand ways. You say a thousand goodbyes. You hold a thousand funerals — Sara Seager

“80% of the containers have been secured in the port bay with the rest being carried in as we speak,” Boil relayed, pointed finger strictly scrolling through his datapad that hummed a striking cobalt glow amidst Lanos’s softer, earthy tones.

He stood at the ready to your left with his helm resting under an arm, taking in each and every two-to-three digit number emanating from the device while you surveyed the array of pale blue repulsersleds bustling atop the port’s grayed, metal landing platform. Ferrying tightly strapped cargo into the bay alongside their clone guardians like a flawless, tapered conveyor belt adhering to a strict timetable.

Most notable, however, was the way this living machine collectively dwarfed the sporadic bands of clone lieutenants who, toting their own Republic-issued datapads, coordinated delivery logistics with counterpart supply port stationaries. Though the brighter energies that rippled through the Force certainly haggled for a higher podium, as the latter of those two, similarity garbed groups seemed all the more enlivened by the marginal increase in activity on such an otherwise docile planet.

“The station Sergeant is currently off-base engaging another matter—,” Boil mentioned off-handedly. “—but sends his regards.”

“Thanks, Boil,” you hummed, silver orbs drifting beyond the organized fuss that circled like bees calculating predetermined patterns long ago inscribed in their very DNA.

Those same eyes flitted by the steel, square-cut terrace’s narrowed path which assumed the shape of a bottleneck in its stretch through the far, inner bay. Then, past the raised, blocky, metallic structure trading in checkered viewports for highly reinforced paneling. One that every day offered the station’s clones a welcome retreat from the planet’s emphatically beating, yellow sun. Just as it shielded them from any other element posing as a threat to the Republic’s mission.

To its perseverance through this war.

“I suppose the next step is to finish the delivery before regrouping to return to The Negotiator,” you evenly deduced. “Right?”

The sharp-eyed clone offered a slight nod. “Affirmative.”

But even foreign structures that cried Coruscanti architecture and hammered down brutalist design amidst Lanos’s creamy breezes and florid expanse did little to hold your attention. Those motionless, gray confines battling against any root or creeping vine that dared to snake under its foundation or slither across its walls failed to yank at your outer lip’s muscles.

At least, not with a vigor comparable to the involuntary jolt you felt strike those same nerves just from the swiping flash of a certain bunch of saffron fur scampering by the tree line.

Though, in spite of the curious, fox-like creature’s daring attempts to acquire the title ‘Honorary Republic Recruit’ from afar, the attentive animal still maintained a devoted caution as they steered a wide berth around the manmade metals which, like a disease, thinned the once lusciously stretching trees bordering its walls.

Instead, the well-groomed critter found temporary solace in nuzzling their tail with cheerfully squinted eyes amidst the deeper, healthier greens and sturdier trunks carrying thicker bark. A microcosm of the wider forest’s hilly character, which rolled around the entrenched, and fairly hidden, compound before flinging back out again for miles, like massive waves frozen in time millennia ago to house a countless abundance of life.

“If you’re worried about that animal interfering with platform operations, I can send a few boys to scare it off.”

“No, no,” you quickly assured with a flicking wave of your hand, dismissing the no-nonsense clone while silver eyes strung to distant, peering yellows.

“That’s alright. They aren’t hurting anyone. Just curious.”

“Understood,” he asserted quickly before stretching back into his planned briefing with a muscle memory akin to the dash of his head toward the glowing datapad.

“Because the storm has cleared it should be an easy takeoff. The shuttles will be able to meet us at port.”

“Sounds like our legs will finally get a break,” you teased lightly, sending the horseshoe-bearded man a knowing glance.

A deep, throaty chuckle fell from his lips as you lifted a few fingers to flit away another droplet of sweat rushing down your forehead from the increasingly belting heat and weakening gusts whose dying breaths failed to chill the air.

“I certainly hope—“

A sharp, singeing thread tugged at your prickling senses from within the Force, snapping your neck toward the source of the sensation before the flaring, scarlet bolt rapidly consuming your vision launched your nimble body, arms fanned out, to roughly shove Boil out of the way. Sending you both tumbling toward the unforgiving ground as the steaming blaze just barely hurled above each of your heads.

“Ambush!” You screamed after sorely rolling off the rather surprised clone and onto a less bruised back, primary hand clawing for your belt.

Your madly thrashing heart reigned into a steady chill with the initial pulse of adrenaline beginning to wean. And by pure chance alone, it was in that very brief second, as blood rushed past ear drums, that you began to feel an unexpectedly sudden heat center on your left wrist.

Thrusting that very arm up and into your vision, you spotted the sporadic, bubbling crackles and scarlet sparks of a damaged wrist comm whose drooping, dark metal structure threatened to melt into your already itching arm.

Quickly, you scrambled to your feet, right hand tightly wrapped around your unclasped saber as you levied it to thwack off the sizzling comm, permitting the decaying device to clatter across the dense platform as it sibilated into spare parts.

Having freed yourself of that discomfort, you swiftly ignited the saber’s buzzing, gray glow before angling toward the damage-inflicting direction. Yet even still amidst such a swift spin, you couldn’t help but absorb just how the landscape’s bright aura, which once overshadowed the rear port’s barren metallurgic twilight, now hung moodier as peaceful woods suddenly turned not so serene.

Emerging from the left side of a large hill positioned before the facility appeared an ever-growing array of creaking and whining metallic beasts.

With the prickling hairs atop the nape of your neck, you felt as the rear clones rushed to their assigned stations while a line of at least ten… twenty….. thirty and counting mustard yellow, beaked droids carrying stringy arms and legs jounced through the ground’s apex with grimy, heavy-duty blasters secured in hand.

Interspersed within their ranks and towering at least triple their size inched forward a darker, all-encompassing model whose pointed soles shredded verdant grass into marred, brittle soil. Colicoid-like droids that commanded three jointed legs, two weaponized arms, and a spine contorting into some sort of red-fanged face that curved inwards, all behind a spherical shield which quivered a transparent blue.

That’s what must’ve nearly hit Boil, you surmised, when another one of those cold, rigid arms blasted off a similarly behaved bolt toward a far cargo container. Shattering it into scattering, hot white-and-red shards, and sending a few nearby clones flying by some feet as a cacophony of shocked yells stalked their paths.

And, unfortunately, it appeared that second blast was enough to effectively signal the rest of the progressively expanding battalion to finally commence their full-fledged attack.

Streaks of thick, fiery crimson, slender orange, and harsh blue beams coated the sky like violent patchwork, darkening the planet’s once stilled and luscious atmosphere into one of rising, smoky death. Filling your nostrils with the noxious scent of burning plasma and battering your eardrums with strained voices that desperately shouted all around you.

“Men, with me!”

“I need help over here!”

“Medic!”

“Move back! Move back!”

“You two, blast ‘em Rollies!”

Their echoes careened over the sharp buzz of your saber as it swung through the air to collide with showering beams. And while, foregoing your long lost wrist comm, you remained relatively unscathed, you still struggled to afford the men fighting alongside you that same luxury.

Far to your left, a quintet of clones gradually retreated through a clean, V-formation as blue spires erupted from their phasers. Only for the incoming brigade’s ceaseless fire to clip the far right soldier’s arm, tearing at his upper plate which oozed a deep crimson athwart its snowy glaze.

Another profuse liberation of deadly rain, and an additional victim emerged as a flaming, hot bolt dug its way through the stepping foot of one of the middlemen, eliciting a pained groan while smoke sprang from the blackening wound.

You tried to help them. Mostly by tapping into their interlinkage with the all-encompassing Force as you’d discovered to do in recent weeks. Relying on this riddled tactic to empower your connection against insurmountable odds as you shoved pre-fired blaster heads into non-lethal directions and tugged out the legs from underneath yellowed battle droids while their brethren marched on unfazed and unfettered.

It wasn’t a chief, battle-altering tactic, but it was sure to meet at least one goal you had in mind: doing everything in your power to give the clones around you those precious, few extra seconds needed to seek cover from this overwhelmingly multiplying attack force.

But you only had so much to give.

No matter what, you couldn’t take your eyes off the eternal task of reflecting away each bolt that careened toward your person. And that was all while making every attempt to reduce the droid’s numbers with a deliberate swipe of your saber or a dexterous application of the Force. But it was when you considered the added responsibility of aiding any nearby clone struggling to defend against perpetually growing enemy numbers that the muddling task became quite daunting.

Suddenly, the corner of your vision caught a familiar, garish tone, drawing your gaze back behind the gradually receding quintet and toward a clone marked by an unavoidable, olive-green circle. A symbol that would’ve blended with the planet’s wider greenery had the billowing plasmic smoke been given enough time to clear.

However, unlike the rest of the platoon, this particular soldier chose instead to steadily march forward, soon passing the withdrawing V-formation like passing ships in the wildest of starless space sectors as he covered their retreat with an azure floodlight of bolts flying from his blaster.

“Get back, Getter!” You commanded, saber swinging elegantly in a controlled retreat as you sent an occasional hard glance toward the disobedient clone.

“I’m Forward Line!” He shouted through the muffled feedback of his sound-amplified helmet, failing to spare any glance away from the threat that marched head-on.

His feet crept forward, indefinite tone communicating his plans while the increasing barrage of bolts threatened your versatility.

“I’ll cove—“

A dense, blistering flare of plasma swiped straight through the eye of Getter’s helmet, leaving a charred, flaky perforation in its place that stifled his body like an off-switch.

He didn’t even tense.

Instead, the moment gravity recalled its birthright, he collapsed like a rag doll. Simply becoming a jumbled pile of arms and legs.

Your jaw slackened as a pinprick chill consumed your body.

“Silvey! Orders!?” Boil cried from close behind as his blaster ricocheted into the panoramic mob.

Row upon row unfurled across the hill’s peak, spilling into the valley’s depths like loose marbles from an endlessly deep bucket.

Though the frigidity that repeatedly ripped down your spine seemed to momentarily disconnect you from its horror as your mind focused on the present threat.

Those larger, curved ‘Rollies’ could transform into whirling spheres, empowering them to rocket down the hillside. Treating anything you were unable to Force shove away in time, be it scattered equipment or Front Line clones, like loose pins for the taking.

And it seemed, as your brain dizzied at the lives being ripped out of good men’s hands, that such a manipulation considered effortlessly simple by any Jedi was becoming too much of a task.

“Get a comm to Kenobi that we need reinforcements yesterday!—“ You yelled somewhat hazily as your mind desperately centered a connective blanket around one of the barreling Rollies so to redirect it into another speeding down beside it, coercing their shields to interact and combust into blue sparks and stinging flames.

You heaved in another gasp of chemically tinted, plasmic smoke.

“—And to bring any ideas on how to cut off this slope! Else we’re sitting ducks!”

“Copy!” He called before you sensed him spin on his heel toward the rear command center.

Until your next words stopped him in his tracks.

Because Getter’s sacrifice wouldn’t be in vain.

And you needed to do something.

“I’m getting in the trenches to try to cut these rolling things off!”

You creaked your neck sideways as another hot blast whizzed past your tingling ear.

“You’ll need support!” He advised with a hand cupping his mouth. “I’ll redirect a few boys your way!”

Another bolt diverted toward an unsuspecting set of droids smashed a few of the batch’s heads together.

“No!” You slammed, fending off another wall of vivid fire.

No more men die today.

They can’t.

Not during your first command.

Not ever.

Not after—

No.

“You focus on getting that message to the General,” you continued with gritted teeth, saber spinning into a swelling, pallid fireball. “If I need help, I’ll ask. Now go!”

His boots squeaked against the once sun-dried platform, now spattered with occasional streaks of thick, deep-crimsoned goop. Smattering the sound of his voice as the subtle scent of copper trailed in the air like itinerant pollen that clogged your sinuses and sullied your tastebuds.

“Comm to me in the bay!”

—

Oh, Anakin.

That was the repetitive acknowledgment encircling Obi-Wan’s thoughts as he silently observed Master Yoda, Master Windu, and Chancellor Palpatine’s shivering, blue holocomms occasionally snap out of shape, all while he stood casually in one of the ship’s empty, gray conference rooms to ensure a private meeting.

Calling from such distances was sure to elicit additional signal disturbances, and, sometimes, would even cause temporary blackouts. But fortunately, or unfortunately, for the General, none of those occurrences prevented Kenobi from discovering his former Padawan’s unsanctioned change of plans through a similar comm exchange a few hours ago.

Of course, it was his responsibility to ensure the arrival of the escort in Anakin’s charge. Maybe that’s because, whether tied to the mission or not, Obi-Wan always seemed to be the first to learn about Skywalker’s impulsive decisions. This time being his insubordinate choice to rope his own Padawan into a patched-together rescue mission following ambivalent reports regarding Master Plo Koon’s fleet.

He certainly always found a way, didn’t he?

Yes, technically, because it was just Anakin and Ahsoka redeploying, then the convoys would be unrestricted in meeting the arranged rendezvous with the rest of the fleet.

But still, Skywalker was a General now. Could that chestnut-haired man not go off on his own without at least informing another Jedi tasked with this mission first?

Anakin could have told him.

And, honestly, while Kenobi knew he would’ve put up a bit of a fight at the suggestion of such a change of plans, the Jedi Master still fully comprehended that, in the end, he had the trust to watch his former Padawan go.

Because, deep down, Obi-Wan knew that, despite the potential strategic sacrifice, it was the right thing to do.

Not that he had much choice to do anything else since Skywalker had already arrived at the attack site.

And now, consequentially, in his station as both military General and Jedi Council member, Kenobi was the one required to deliver this pesky news to the necessary officials in his place.

“Twice the trouble, they have become,” Master Yoda sighed, rounded eyes dribbling toward the ground in contemplation. “A reckless decision, Skywalker has made.”

The weary Chancellor’s snow-white furrow deepened. “Let us hope it is not a costly one.”

Palpatine exhaled gradually, dipping gaze giving room for the three Jedi hovering subserviently in his presence a moment to absorb the flickers of combat fatigue that affected the deciding politician. Though, despite the momentary pause, the Chancellor was quick to recover, flicking his far-out stare toward the trio with a manufactured smile that struggled to assure that he was, in fact, quite alright.

“I do apologize, gentleman, but I have another meeting with the Senator from Kestos Minor shortly, so I must leave you.”

“Of course, Chancellor,” Kenobi acknowledged for the Jedi in attendance.

And with that, the former Senator’s unstable image evaporated into azure sparks before fading into the room’s wider darkness.

“An eye on your former Padawan, you must keep,” Master Yoda noted, motioning a hand clasped around his irregularly curved gimer stick toward Kenobi. “An update, I request, next we meet.”

“Yes, Master Yoda,” Obi-Wan assured. “I will keep track of him.”

But not before addressing the puckering questions that prodded his brain tissue all afternoon.

At least, ever since speaking with you.

“Do you have a moment, Master Windu?” Kenobi questioned, just as the Grand Master’s digital picture similarly flickered into cerulean specks of nothingness.

The older Master glanced at Obi-Wan out of his peripheral, torso still respectively angled toward the empty cavity where Yoda’s silhouette once stood before smoothly pivoting with a subtly tilted neck toward the inquisitive Jedi.

“I do,” he punctuated with taught features. “And what is this regarding?”

“Silvey,” Obi-Wan plainly replied, allowing his voice alone to carry him through the next few seconds so to disallow himself from failing to speak of these matters at all.

“I was made aware earlier today that they were not fully informed of their condition following the incident. As their Master, and the one tasked with notifying them in place of the Healer, I was hoping to inquire as to why?”

A blank stare of unreadable stillness crossed the thousand light years in a fashion only Mace Windu, complexion of secrets and answers, could achieve.

“As their advisor, I provided only necessary information,” he clarified simply with the gesturing support of his hand. “It was unnecessary to subject Silvey to the past when they successfully recovered.”

Obi-Wan’s lips twitched into an imperceptibly partial frown.

Perhaps Master Windu… knew more than he was letting on?

He talked of deeming certain details imperative to share, which could suggest that there were facts being kept secret, even from you, for reasons beyond the bearded Jedi’s current knowledge.

At least, that’s what Obi-Wan convinced himself.

It would be the only explanation for such a decision, he thought. For seemingly sending you on a mission without any concern for the unknown factors at play, and for this indefinite justification of why.

That would be the only thing that made any lick of sense.

And that also could’ve meant, maybe, just maybe, Kenobi wasn’t the only one beginning to sense remnants of your mind within the Force.

Perhaps Mace Windu already discovered this development. Or perhaps, it was even possible the elder Master had something to do with it.

That, as your ‘advisor,’ he was already a few steps ahead. And that, in your meditation sessions, he found something. Triggered something.

Knew something.

Either way, the General desired to understand.

“And how are we to know that?” Kenobi tested carefully, eyeing the strict Jedi’s cheekbones for any small, reflexive hint. “You yourself admitted to an inability to perceive their mind, the cause of these headaches, or the incident’s nature. By those facts alone, how can it be possible to assume that this is truly in the past?”

Pressing his lips into a thin line with arms confidently folded into themselves, Master Windu intrepidly spoke as broadened shoulders secured his stance.

“The Republic is in need of more Jedi on the field. You of all people are aware of that fact, Master Kenobi,” he stated. “I made the most reasonable decision given our circumstances. Such details are not of our immediate concern. We cannot afford it.”

Obi-Wan couldn’t help the taught string of confusion and wiry cords of astonishment that knit across his forehead, muscling down the rest of his features like a sudden tug on the loose end of an interwoven thread.

Mace knew nothing.

And, with that in mind, Kenobi never expected such indifference to be applied to a situation deemed incomprehensible by even the Grand Master himself a few days earlier. Toward a state of affairs clouded by the ever-living Force in a plum of enigmatic readings, which, to the Council, was always a less than desirable sign.

There is no ignorance, there is knowledge.

Said the Code.

So then to brush this all off? And dismiss its repercussions to his own mentee, no less.

Obi-Wan raised a hand, curling a few knuckles to provide his chin a thoughtful rest. All in an attempt to imbue the Force with interim civility as his mind rapidly flipped through Mace’s words.

And it didn’t take long for him to realize that all this… Every decision made concerning you…

It was this war.

It was changing Windu like it was changing all of them. All the Jedi. Causing them to lose sight of what was once important in the days before the Battle of Geonosis.

But this wasn’t right.

Something was clearly influencing you. And, despite the Republic’s shifting priorities, Mace needed to be reminded that this situation, no matter how diverting, was just as important to the Council’s overarching mission as its efforts in this war.

To the Jedi’s purpose.

To peace.

These headaches and their culminated crisis may have evolved into a creature of the past. But it was their state of unpredictability, and the Galaxy-altering implications of a Guardian thrown from commission, which convinced Kenobi that the Council mustn’t lose sight of such solemnity. Especially not during a decade in which the Grand Master sensed the Force to have grown, in some pockets, indecipherable.

And no matter what, you deserved to know the full nature of these incidents.

Obi-Wan’s jaw released, poking away the useless support of bent fingers as his arm fell to the side at a rate equal to the blooming resolution which consumed the bearded man’s blue-eyed countenance. A visual marker, or signature stamp, of the Master Jedi’s acceptance that no war would stymie him from making these very thoughts known to the glitching holocomm across from him.

So much so, that he nearly missed the echoing chime of the conference room’s automatic door as its mechanics whirred open.

“General!”

Kenobi’s neck snapped toward the urgent inflection shimmering from Commander Cody’s tensed lips, just as brightly as the orange embellishments accenting his trooper armor reflected the white lights streaming overhead.

He was leaned into a forward stance, a puff of air proving him not a still-life statue as he caught his balance. All in an effort to suddenly halt a spirited sprint into the conference room that eventually, from the exertion alone, impelled him to expel the rest.

“There’s been a surprise attack on the supply port and the platoon left behind on Lanos.”

A dryness consumed Kenobi’s tongue as another simply armored clone dashed through the same whirring, mechanical door. Sprightly stepping up to whisper a few quick words to his Commander just before the aperture behind him buzzed shut once more.

“Reports of heavy casualties,” Cody parroted with an ear leaned toward the newly arrived lieutenant. “And they are requesting immediate reinforcements.”

“I will leave you to address this more immediate concern, Master Kenobi,” Windu relayed from the twitching holocomm image strikingly emanating from behind; his expression stilled except for the subtle twinge of disappointment drooping the outer corners of his eyes.

“Yes,” Obi-Wan affirmed, clearing his voice as moisture coated a tickling throat.

At least enough for him to sign off with one final message aimed toward his fellow Council member.

“I will see you at the rendezvous.”

—

A burning ache entangled each limb’s muscles like winding vines as you fended off the coming onslaught. Centering yourself in the lowest dip of the valley’s crease wasn’t necessarily the most strategic move given your current predicament. Especially considering it labeled your dodging figure as prime target practice for the ropes of Rollies that erratically spun down the hillside at spine-chilling speeds.

But you didn’t have any choice.

Not if you hoped to become an unbreakable barrier of pure might and agility, impeding a near three-hundred mix of droids threatening the platoon’s lives who hastily regrouped behind you.

Various squad formations would mark the best vantage points atop the port’s landing platform from which to lay fire upon the siege. Though that was the extent to which the battalion could effectively participate. Joining you in the, quite literal, trenches was a death sentence to any non-Force Sensitive individual hoping to take a stand against an attacking strength of this magnitude.

It was your ability, and your ability alone, to navigate the rapidly shifting elements of surrounding energies that empowered you to fight in their place while dodging and manipulating droids who shot walls of steady fire or suddenly sprung at you with their dense, steel bodies.

Yet, no matter your resilience, you still possessed the same weakness every other living being faced in adrenalizing circumstances.

You were growing quite exhausted.

“Reinforcements are almost here!” You heard Boil yell from far behind while he used a nearby repulsersled flipped into a makeshift shield to traverse the compound drowned in chemical fires and bloodied chaos. “You can’t stay there forever!”

You wrapped your fingers around the air as invisible claws shimmied their way around a Rollie barreling toward your figure before rapidly thrusting that same fist to the side, leading the machine’s suddenly bouncing trajectory to hurtle into a group of about eight battle droids.

One in particular sluggishly swiveled its head toward the oncoming sight with subtle reservation as it expelled creaky, undulating words.

“Oh no.”

Until they became another scattered pile of far-flung, broken parts, an explosion colored by blasting crimson and cobalt sparks.

“I’m gonna have to!” You called back, the swing of your saber nearly transforming into a cloudy blur of heat before your very, watering eyes as you deflected bolt after bolt while sidestepping through the uneven hollow. “We’ll lose our only advantage!”

“Excuse me for saying, Silvey, but I think that losing a Jedi will be cutting our advantage!”

You knew he was right.

But you were quickly learning that in war, there was no easy choice.

You weren’t going to lose anyone else.

Maker… you couldn’t.

You just… couldn’t.

A scorching, slash clawed into your left calf, electrifying all the way down to your ankle as a surprised yelp was drawn from your lips.

And it wasn’t long before that very foot and sorely exercised knee buckled under the shocking pressure, slamming both roughly into the dirt as you felt another breeze graze the touches of your back exposed by rips in the fabric. All from those quick tumbles against newly jagged ground with raised rock shards and disturbed mounds formed by the ongoing conflict.

You briefly glanced down to assess the damage, relying on your senses' contextual intertwinement and the dancing light of your gray saber to defend against the ongoing downpour of bolts. Showers that fell from the hilltop with such magnitude that you could’ve sworn the sky was crying smoky tears.

Speaking of bolts, it appeared one had cut you down pretty good as a severely bloodied laceration oozing black, bubbling soot stingingly throbbed the bottom half of your leg. Consuming your vision with its strongly contrasting, dark tinge even amidst your armor’s shadowy undertones.

So much for those Republic-tested shin guards, you internally grunted.

And, regrettably, with one leg out of commission, it didn’t take long for your wearied body and continuously fogging gaze to make another mistake.

Even if it was only for a split second.

While desperately side-crawling toward the landing pad, in an effort to impede an enemy group from its newly-angled, swift approach, you missed an arbitrary bolt that collided with the hilt of your saber. Snapping it out of your hand as its protective covering took the brunt of the blast, but still flung it a few meters out from your grip all the same.

Your head spun back toward the main invading Force, only to be met with an inky black blaster whose cold body was levied mere centimeters from your forehead.

Dark spots crept into your peripheral like a predator surveying its prey as your palms dug into the disturbed dirt below.

“Wow, look guys!” The titillated battle droid exclaimed. “I got a Jedi!”

Shades of flaming red exploded before your very eyes.

But not for the reason you thought.

No, whatever that was, it wasn’t blood.

It was much more…

Much too…

Fuzzy?

Scrapping at whatever strength you had left, you focused your shaky stare above. Only to be met with the strikingly pigmented fox of before, wrapped around the battle droid’s torso like a constricting tendril as it gnawed with growling rage at the mechanical thing’s armed skeletal limb.

“Ah! What is this?” The off-yellow machine bellowed. “Get it off me! Get it off me!”

He spun in unsteady circles, flinging his targeted arm as if fire consumed its nonexistent nerves, drilled feet stumbling over each other while the fox laid savagely into their assault.

Until the droid hoisted its other revolving hand, slamming it down once, and then twice, across the creature’s wet snout. A sickening crack, and its shiny, fur coat slung from the machine before landing as a mangled heap onto the ground.

You thrust a hand toward your saber, scratching at the Force to coax it to your fingers as it catapulted into your grasp.

A reflection of the blaster’s barrel stung your eye.

One squealing pop flung through the air.

And then another.

“Good riddance,” the droid mumbled while it drearily kicked the still warm, but entirely lifeless creature left at its feet.

You were too late.

You were always too late.

Qui-Gon’s paled skin. His glazed, breathless eyes.

And then you saw it.

You swore you saw it.

A flash of that horned, devil face harshly stomped across the fox’s barren throat.

And your blood ran cold.

So frigid, that an icy film must’ve shielded your eyes while they blurred in contest with an increasingly congested mind. The resonating cries of commanding clones, marching mechanical feet, and rushing metal clamoring against loose bolts all melded into a muddled echo of the past. Even Boil’s distended calls, which freely rang around inching droids as he laid down fire, melded into the rest of the world.

Instead, a high-pitched tone displaced their existence, slackening your jaw and dangerously slowing your breath while a weight unlike any other yanked down at your sternum.

And amidst all that drowning havoc, you barely noticed the large, gray shuttle with faint red accents descend before you.

Almost immediately, and with growing intensity, its engines were able to sweep away any nearby battle droids as they flung and tumbled across the grass like loose scraps. Even the Rollies found their maneuverability stifled as they transformed back into a legged form before being tossed away like loose credits via their curvature alone.

Yet, even though the vehicle landed between you and the incoming fire, its rear door descending as a fluttering ivory robe and flashes of white armor darted down its ramp, it was still not enough to rip you out from yourself.

It was only partially, that your awareness sparked, and for a moment oh so brief, as a flash of auburn tufts poked a hole in that stunned cataract.

“Silvey!”

A distant echo among muffled blaster fire, but the ringing tone did seem to partially subside.

“Silvey! Can you hear me?!”

You swallowed, vision clearing just enough to recognize a familiar pair of widened, bright blue eyes.

Though you had no idea how he got here.

“Obi-Wan?” You questioned hazily with scrunched brows.

“Let’s get you to the ship!” He declared firmly, eyes drifting toward your mangled leg as a hint of displeasure creased his eyes.

But he hesitated for only a second before quickly wrapping his fingers around your free arm to tug you that away.

And, truth be told, it was that moment, that single moment, the warm feeling of his grip as plasmic fumes assaulted your senses, that became the last instant of Lanos you truly remembered.

You recalled the gentle pressure of Kenobi’s fingers releasing your arm into the shuttle just before it lifted from the ground while he sprinted off, pearly armor catching the sun’s smoke-scattered glare as he joined the fight. And you could remember the stinging weight that dragged at your muscles as you stood for the first time after the hull abruptly docked at The Negotiator.

A feeling that haunted you with each step you traversed from the shuttle bay to your temporary quarters.

You could even recall the taste of the stale ship air that reigned menial against Lanos’s essence of fresh vegetation and untouched atmosphere. Though that particular memory was hard to forget, considering those same elements pervaded your quarters.

What you couldn’t remember, however, was what anyone had said to you. If anyone had said anything at all. You couldn’t remember when your injured leg was wrapped, or who did it. You couldn’t remember whether the battle was won. You couldn’t remember entering the lift to the residential section of the ship. And you couldn’t remember the familiar whooshing creak of your quarter’s automatic door.

Oh Maker, no.

You couldn’t recall whether that faulty sound tolled when the aperture opened.

You could only trust that the door had, in fact, shut behind you as you ambled into your quarters, deactivated lightsaber falling from your bruised fingers before rudely clacking across the carpeted floor. You could only hope that the walls, too, were thick enough to deafen the sound of your falling knees as they collided with the itchy carpet’s prickling texture.

And you could pray that the falling tears wetting your cheeks and soaking your tunic, and the hiccuping breaths stopping your heart, would somehow ease the agonizing burden that crushed your chest with the bodies of all you had lost.

—

“And the facility was secured?” Master Kenobi inquired once Commander Cody concluded his cursory report on the impromptu attack.

Both general and soldier ambled down the curved, tubular hallway of one of the ship’s upper decks, lined with identically placed doors and overhead lights that perfectly reflected the Republic’s preference for uniformed architecture. Still though, Obi-Wan’s wandering eyes would soak up their every detail, down to the personalized wear of certain entry panels or noticeable scuffs decorating the steel floor whenever he participated in such debriefs.

It allowed his mind to focus on the task at hand. No matter the aeonian tumult that bled into their essence or bordered his thoughts.

“Yes, General,” Cody assured evenly as his long-barreled, black phaser, still warm from battle, patiently hung from a confident grip; swaying with each step that fell in line with his superior’s steady stride.

“And we incurred far less casualties than anticipated,” he continued, with a hint of optimism so subtle that even Kenobi struggled to detect it. “My men report that the General is to thank for that.”

An unconscious hand hovered toward Obi-Wan’s chin, gently stroking his beard’s loose tufts while the Jedi Master continued to absorb his officer’s words like a Bluebell squish would sunlight.

Though his gaze still dallied across the ephemeral doors.

“Had they not stood their ground in the valley’s trench…” Cody liberated. “I doubt much of the platoon would be left standing.”

Kenobi’s chest rose and fell with a gradualness that seemed to suspend time itself. Still, his legs carried him onwards, as a shuttle set on autopilot would transport its passengers by endless star systems, and the beauties in between.

You certainly took a huge risk, he noted. Pushing yourself to the very brink to protect the lives of his own battalion.

But did you know just how close you came to the point of no return?

The Master Jedi considered that even Anakin would’ve deemed the act of entering and remaining in the trenches terribly reckless.

And that was saying something.

But you were Qui-Gon’s Padawan, after all. And Obi-Wan knew better than anyone that drilled into your being was the desire to avoid violence at all costs. To preserve the manifestations of the Force by protecting any and all beings who necessitated aid.

Though you were never prepared for a war that coerced Jedi to conform to a changed Galaxy.

And it coerced him to consider…

Should he say something?

“Sir.”

The General need not rely on Force-attuned senses to notice the Commander slowed his gate into a standstill from the corner of an observant eye. Leashing Kenobi to do the same as he angled to face the solider whose mollified shoulders stimulated satiny brown orbs to soften.

“Some of the boys and I would like to thank the General in person for what they did today,” he expressed somewhat awkwardly, hand jolting up to scratch the back of his head as his eyes dipped off to the side. “Any chance you could share a heads up when they may be up for it, Sir?”

An involuntary twitch tugged at the corner of the General’s tensed lips. Though his revelation after the fact choked the sensation before it had any chance of crawling up to ensnare his bright, cerulean orbs.

No. Not yet, the bearded man concluded.

He couldn’t share his worries.

Because Kenobi dreaded that doing so would risk metamorphosis.

It would be, conceivably, like asking you to transform into a different breed of Jedi. One who’d fail to touch the hearts of men with such infectious reverence and unity.

You were a being who would, no matter what, sacrifice each and every far-off particle of themselves if it meant preserving just one more life, or to cease the wands of conflict indefinitely.

The Way of Qui-Gon’s age, that felt so long ago.

Before its prime was sullied by war…

Suppressing his former Master’s Renaissance teachings in favor of this changed Galaxy, like so many Jedi of late, like Mace Windu, would fundamentally alter you.

And it was that very concept that sucked away the energy of his mind, like a siphon draining liquid gold down through his stiffened spine, and out through his toes.

“Of course, Commander,” Kenobi expelled fluidly. “I’m certain they would valu—“

A gust of pressurized mass flung by the duo with the brawn of a rushing wave, consuming Obi-Wan’s senses and depressing the hairs along his arms like a sudden shift in gravity as his once drained neck flicked toward the impression’s oozing source, located somewhere farther down the hallway.

But while the piqued Jedi Master’s piercing eyes initially saw nothing of concern, it was only a mere second later when the feeling quickly morphed into a troubling array as a pointed hole the size of a marble appeared to form in his ribcage, deliberately expanding into a bleak vacuum that nearly caught his breath.

Then came the pain.

An intense jab whose sharp instrument seemed to pierce the air with progressively afflicting shocks that were surely impossible for any Force-Sensative being to ignore.

At least, for him.

And while this sensation’s source appeared to stray from his inner being, Kenobi could still perceive its utter potency, shattering his thoughts with one, unavoidable clarity:

That, no matter the impenetrability of mental blocks or molecular hints of presence within the Force, the only other being in this sector at all capable of emitting this kind of energy, was you.

And that could only mean one thing.

Something was very very wrong.

Given that you’d nearly escaped with your life not even an hour prior, Kenobi could only fear the worst as he mentally recounted your previously noted injuries.

Unless…

That earlier hesitation…

“General!” Cody alertedly yet curiously called after his superior officer as the auburn-haired man’s once composed posture devolved into a notably rushed jog, his white shoulder and shin guards doing little in the ways of stifling the whipping surge of his ivory robe as it caught the ship’s manufactured atmosphere’s resistance. “Is everything alright?”

“I’m not certain,” he replied with a leveled tone, though never assuaging his gate or turning his chin away from the path ahead as he rushed by door upon equivalent door. “I will comm you if not.”

It was quite fortunate, Obi-Wan realized, that he’d already been returning to his own quarters when he sensed the shift in the Force as they were situated a mere few doors down from your own. Otherwise, given your mind’s weak presence in its endless flow, he may not have caught onto the displacement until long after the fact. Still, he couldn’t help but assign himself preliminary blame for whatever it was he began inwardly preparing to walk into.

He was too distracted to check in with you until now. Too preoccupied with leading reinforcements to turn the tide of that bloody sea of an ambush. And too absorbed in the logistics of determining just exactly how that Separatist attack force landed on Lanos without a lick of intelligence soaring his way. All while the General simultaneously ensured an on-track fleet rendezvous in the background.

But now, stood before your door amidst the heavy rise and fall of a stunted chest in which breath clutched its heels, the Jedi Master gravelly understood once again, fist hovering before its grayed coating in fleeting hesitation, that he had no choice but to rectify another mistake made in his task of certifying The Guardian’s safety.

His knuckles resonantly rapped the cold metal sheen separating you both.

“Silvey?”

But that empty, weighted crevice slithering within his deepest senses persisted, its stinging ambiance threatening to crack open his skin. Quite enough to convince the Jedi Master, as he reached a few fingers toward the door’s panel to levy a couple overriding taps, that your current well-being transcended any and all swirling discomforts rooted in invading your personal space.

Yet, even with such logic secured as firmly on his belt as his lightsaber, nothing could’ve truly prepared Obi-Wan Kenobi for the sight that patiently awaited the mechanical entryway’s opening swish, as his subsequent few steps into your thinly carpeted and modestly furnished quarters delivered an image not easily unseen.

Kneeled just a few meters before the stilled, auburn-haired man was your sternly bent-over figure, back hunched as strikingly as a shadow in a room simply lit by the vast array of stars that glimmered unbothered beyond the far wall’s viewport. Your wears were the same, with the various splotched, grimy stains and ripped, sagging ends of disturbed cloth still hugging your body like fearful younglings. Just as they had during the battle’s peak when Kenobi’s shuttle first landed.

Their drying crackles. Their stretching tears. They caught his gaze as fiercely as a spark of fire with each subtle quiver of your spine, an action which took his mind a moment to register as the trembling quake bedeviling enervated lungs.

From your blood-soiled calf bandage, ruggedly stuck, tussled hair, and sweat-adhered, dirt-crusted arms, Obi-Wan could only assume that you’d remained like this since your arrival. Submitting to your dark surroundings while lacking the inspiration to flip on a light.

And, most eerily, in a muteness that heightened the slightest creaks and far-off humming engines of a periodically groaning ship.

A recognition that deepened the already cavernous void threatening to swallow whole every vein branching from Kenobi’s chest into the muscle of each motionless shoulder.

This was nothing like the incident of days prior, which meant that the General was uncertain of what would help. How to fix this. Or even, what was wrong.

But he veritably knew that dropping a pin in the uncanny silence engulfing you both like a gaseous cloud would shatter his eardrums just as savagely as he assumed it would spiral whatever affliction you were enduring into a perilous state.

And that meant that, for the life of him. The Master Jedi had no idea how to proceed.

He could not breathe for apprehension that it would burst like a spark within an invisible hypermatter leak. Let alone speak a few words, nor your name, unless he knew that, without harm, he could.

So, Master Kenobi did the only thing he dreamed acceptable.

After idling by the entryway in perpetual uncertainty, the cautious Jedi adopted a lissome tread, leading his troubled brows and downturned cerulean eyes to finally seize a glimpse of your collapsed head as he rounded your form.

Your blotched countenance of stained tears and drained listlessness. Loose strands of hair soaked from sweat or anguish he did not know. Still, even your radiantly silver eyes seemed to gray in their moribund stare straight ahead, as if to watch a tiresome scene a thousand parsecs away run its course.

And it was that utter and complete stillness, a feeling invoking time to recede into long-forgotten history, that remained for a tense, immeasurable while.

Unsteady breaths continued to shudder your torso while eyes strung wide enough to perceive the whole Galaxy struggled to maintain their shape following the long sered, torrential flood. The cogs of overflowing thoughts crowding their rusting gears before the speechless man’s very eyes.

It felt near an eternity into the future or past had elapsed for Obi-Wan since he met your distant orbs. Yet their departed state, it seemed, never reflected your true awareness.

You were not trapped within your mind again.

“I spent my entire life on that barren planet,” you suddenly relayed hoarsely.

Or, maybe, in some ways, you were, Kenobi amended, as the sound of your strained voice heightened the General’s alertness all the way up to his hassled brows.

“And a decade of it in complete isolation.”

Laggardly, your jaded orbs lifted toward his own, neck barely shifting while you held his pursed lips and tensed jaw in a vice grip by the anticipation of your slowly spilling words alone.

“And yet—“

A single tear seeped through the dam, etching another stain into your storied cheeks as your chest quickened its heaves.

It was more than enough to have impelled Kenobi toward you. With a hand outstretched and a pulsing drive to somehow bring you any sliver of relief.

But Obi-Wan refrained from all that.

He knew he needed to listen. To understand first. So to learn how best to fix this.

He just wanted to fix this.

“—I’ve never felt… quite… so alone.”

But with those six words, the Master Jedi’s temperance seemed to wash away with the second droplet that traced a serene path down to your chin, proving another chink in the levee.

Promptly, but still with great care, Obi-Wan neared your body, both sets of eyes never severing while he lowered to his knees. Mirroring your form in complete and utter stillness as he encouraged you to continue with a reinforced, steadfast expression.

A tremulous exhale escaped your lungs, silver gaze breaking the connection before sinking to the wayside.

“Not as I do now,” you breathed. “Not when Qui-Gon is gone.”

Those two syllables, Kenobi registered. Two knocks that brought that dam to ruins.

“He’s gone!” You croakily sobbed, a glare that could only reflect betrayal by the Galaxy itself rushing to perceive Kenobi’s affected countenance with an intensity that matched the gushing rain.

You raised a fist, tightening it in the air through a paled potency so sheer that Obi-Wan worried with stitched brows about the sharp damage your fingertips could be afflicting upon the contorted palm. All while silver eyes squeezed shut as if disgusted by the waves of pure agony that surmounted your figure.

“He’s gone for good,” you gnawed breathily. “And nothing will ever bring him back.”

While heaving gasps brimmed the once noiseless, dulled gray walls, amplifying the hollowed suffering emanating through the Force, Kenobi felt his tensed spine and rigid limbs ease with the surge of conviction that steadily overcame him.

Doubtlessness that, like a good Jedi, he felt the need to ease your misery.

More than that. Your pain happened to affect him in such a way, that it felt distressing to do anything but lift his wrist to reach out a bracing palm.

For someone he appreciated as an admirable individual.

And for a being he was beginning to consider a good friend.

Gently, his palm graced the side of yours, signaling him to carefully wrap warm fingers around your strikingly frigid, raised fist. A gesture which relaxed open your tear-brimmed orbs while Obi-Wan cautiously lowered your languishingly trembling clutch. So gradually, that as both your and Obi-Wan’s arms reached each respective knee, the clasped hand was spurred to wholly unfurl, giving Kenobi room to relax his thumb against your flushed palm while he eyed you meaningfully.

“You are not alone,” Obi-Wan firmly assured, his own voice eliciting a momentary shock as he heard its baritone timbre crush the presence of such prolonged and confounding silence.

“He’s gone,” you repeated mindlessly with an empty gaze barely supporting your head.

Yet Obi-Wan’s persistence was as boundlessly unyielding as the grip he maintained on you.

“But, you’re not alone.”

“Obi-Wan,” you wept, nostrils flaring as you shook your head with thinned eyes; swallowing harshly. “Pleas—“

Rapidly, with any fret of heedfulness tossed out the airlock, the Master Jedi brought his unchained hand toward your tottering jaw. Resting a loose knuckle under your chin to lift your searching gaze toward his.

You needed this, he excused. You needed to hear this.

And as your damp, sparkling eyes absently met his, he knew:

Distance be damned.

“You are The Guardian. Anakin is forever tied to you. And you will always, always have the Order. Thousands of Jedi ready to stand by your side because of who you are,” he declared with unshakable conviction.

Until his orbs softened below shattered lips.

“Silvey,” he whispered pregnantly. “Drink in my words.” His fingers tightened around your own. “You are not alone.”

And for a moment, Kenobi could note a subtle lift in your features. A slight lightening of your irises that indicated at least some partial unshackling of an invisible burden. A development that began to stitch closed the gaping crevice nestled within his sternum as it was reflected through the Force, stabilizing against your releasing shoulders and loosening throat.

Though your mind appeared to travel elsewhere.

Still, they were all gradual indications of your calming thoughts. Hints that whatever he was doing was mending something. And signs that first appeared when he touched your hand.

Another theory that added substance to the sealing emptiness Kenobi first experienced through the hall in what felt like eons ago.

So, he leaned into it, gracing his once stilled thumb across your palm’s supple skin as he, bit by bit, traced a messy oval to soothe your thoughts.

And it didn’t take long for your continually calming presence to uncontrollably elicit the soft smile that gradually adorned his lips.

But, as soon as his gentle finger uncovered the aplomb to supply a deeper, more sustained motion of solidarity, it seemed, instantaneously, that this very transference snapped you out of whatever distance your mind had traveled with an unforeseen start.

Your suddenly surprised gape jumped out at Kenobi while a once relaxed hand instantly recoiled out of his own. Chiseling an equally confused expression across Obi-Wan’s face as his brows furrowed at you uneasily.

Still, that did little in forestalling your hurried launch to stand, all done in an effort to put a few strides between you and the bearded Jedi before crossing deeper into the dark shadows enveloping your quarters, a back of tattered robes separating you from Obi-Wan’s probing stare.

The older Jedi felt that hallowed void dilate within himself once more as he observed your sheltering arms fold into themselves, a familiar, throbbing pain emanating into the surrounding Force while he too promptly rose to his feet.

Especially as there was no denying that it was a feeling, Obi-Wan gathered, he’d somehow caused.

A myriad of thoughts swirled his mind as your quarters adopted that familiar aura of soundless reticence. One that rivaled the emptiness of its dimmed lightning that somehow felt far more barren with the presence of two beings blending into its grayed walls.

And the silence was deafening. Thunderous enough to fester a chest-displacing emotion Kenobi sometimes experienced, but knew no Jedi should long entertain.

Guilt.

“Silvey?” He questioned with indecisively parted lips, phonating barely above a whisper.

But you never spoke.

Instead, the Jedi Master received his answer from the tautening cross of your arms and intensifying dip of your head.

The clatter of heavy footsteps and low conversation echoed from the hall, cutting the still air like an endless barrage of saber swipes. Their passing din muffled by your quarter’s steel separation as Obi-Wan partially sensed the handful of clones retreat down the passageway’s other end until their overlapping noise whispered into a distant memory.

And it was following that minor rattle, the long, interspaced stretches of pure stillness, and a timeless affair of observing your statued figure for any hint of an imparting thought, that the General reluctantly accepted the inevitable as pivoted on his heel toward the long gone entourage.

Although he now ambled toward the metal door, he only moved with stalling muscles, still in anticipation that he’d sense some shift, some indication of lightening impressions through the Force. At least, any idea that maybe, maybe you’d say something to him.

But once Obi-Wan’s fingers reached for the green-rimmed panel, releasing open the aperture with a whoosh, he began to come to grips with the fact that his presence would facilitate no locution, and, instead, only make things worse.

Stepping beyond the threshold, Kenobi’s eyes drifted to the side, as if to glance at your enigmatic figure staring out the viewport from far behind.

Though, despite the effort, he never dared to fully turn. Instead, Obi-Wan simply allowed his reluctant features to subdue against the throbbing remorse that struck through his mind like an unruly blaster spear as he murmured through uncertain lips one last time.

“I’m… I’m sorry.”

A soft exhale, and the door hissed closed.

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