#and various medical tools | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

muletia · 5 months ago

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𝐫𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐬𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐢𝐧 𝐫𝐞𝐝 ₊ ⊹

obsessed!optimus prime x human!reader obsessed!megatron x human!reader obsessed!starscream x human!reader

summary: various mechs react to your injury. didn't specify what happened to reader in starscream' part so you can fill the gaps yourself

cw: angst, hurt, graphic injury (reader), blood and gore, possessiveness, obsessive thoughts, very ooc starscream

word count: 2700

thank you!! <33

i may write the 'next part' for other bots too when mood for angst comes back...

He reacted too slowly, missing the leap by mere seconds. Didn’t make it in time to shield you from the stray projectile, which struck directly at your side, piercing the abdomen and immediately knocking you to the ground. He deals with the attacker without hesitation, taking down the Vehicon that had ambushed you during your ride. Quickly moves to your side, shielding from further threats. Something he should have done from the very beginning.

Your eyes are closed, and chest heaves rapidly, chasing after the blood slowly spilling from your wound. Optimus realizes he has never seen your equivalent of energon before. He’s seen bruises and scratches but never blood. Once, he was curious about what it might look like, how it would behave outside your body. Now, he would give everything to erase this image from memory.

He feels disgust—not with you, never with you—but with himself. Because he let this happen. Because your suffering and the scar that will forever remind you of his failure are his doing. He looked into your eyes and swore to protect you at all costs, even at the cost of his own life.

He failed. As always. But you should not bear the harvest of his incompetence.

And to think, he once desired to be your partner, to bear the title of conjunx. Now, as he considers it, the thought feels like a cruel joke.

He’s convinced his entire body is aflame, as though he’s sharing your pain. As if the projectile had torn through his own frame. You deserve this pain, he thinks. Should suffer more, take this burden from you and carry it himself, and preferably, bear it for the rest of his life—an echo of failure, a reminder to never let anything happen to you again.

“[Name]…” he tries, his voice unworthy of a Prime—weak, strained, fighting against his own voice box. “I beg you…” He wants to add more, but physically cannot.

No response. He clenches his servo so tightly that it begins to tremble, energon soon dripping from the stress. The vision of your death flashes through processor. Then remorse, fury, and grief. Days spent admiring you, fantasizing about the future twist into self-torment, revisiting the image of your lifeless body before him because he acted too late.

Cannot allow that future to come to pass. You will not give your life for his mistake. Even if his passion never bears fruit, even if your smile continues to haunt him in his dreams, even if your closeness is limited to shared rides, he will not let you go. He is willing to endure the worst tortures, walk through hell and back, starve and ruin himself just so you can see another sunrise.

“Ratchet, ground bridge. Immediately.” The true Prime emerges. Stern and decisive. “Bring surgical tools.”

The medic arrives swiftly. Unlike his leader, Ratchet doesn’t take an eternity to overcome the shock. He gently lifts you onto his servo and takes you to the base, directly to the operating table. Optimus follows closely behind, optics fixed on you, desperately searching for signs of life.

Optimus doesn’t leave your side, staying through the operation, watching as Ratchet stitches the wound with his trademark precision. The medic refrains from his usual muttering about caution. One look at Optimus’s empty faceplate, devoid of any visible emotion but still fiercely focused on you, reveals the terror within. The fear and guilt have burrowed so deeply that even after the procedure is finished, with you unconscious but stabilized and safe, hooked up to an IV, Optimus does not leave you.

Wants to etch this image into his memory, so it becomes his specter. A motivation to reflect on himself, on your relationship. He must become better, more attentive, and less distracted. Because he isn’t sure if another failure like this would break him. If you were to end up on the operating table again, would he join you in death? Even though he knows it’s a lie. No matter how battered life makes him, no matter how many heartaches you bring him, he is compelled to continue the fight.

He longs to take your pain away. To bear it himself, to atone for his sins. And so he does, staying by your side without pause. Doesn’t eat, doesn’t rest, merely existing and waiting for you to wake up, incapable of doing anything else. He knows the team is worried, that they check in on him, bringing energon, begging him to rest, offering to take over the vigil, but he refuses every time. This is his burden, his failure, and he will not place it on anyone else. He must atone.

Intends to suffer alongside you until you fully recover. He doesn’t expect you to forgive him; doesn’t even dare to hope for it. But will the horror fade into the fog of an unpleasant memory if, from time to time, you grant him the same look you once did?

You lie in his servo, small, trembling, barely alive. Your entire forearm is crushed, and the side of your torso bears claw marks—a result of your encounter with a Vehicon who wasn’t acquainted with human fragility. Megatron’s soldier only intended to carry the runaway back to his master, not realizing that grabbing you by the arm would cause such devastating harm. It wasn’t done on purpose, nor was there any intent to deliberately hurt the partner of the Decepticon leader. Well, it didn’t matter anymore, now that the Vehicon lay dead with several holes in their frame.

Despite the carnage, Megatron doesn’t seem fazed. He carries you to the medbay with his familiar proud stride, showing no signs of stress. Calm and cold-blooded, unnaturally so. Yet his optics remain fixed on you, monitoring you, searching for signs of agony.

"You will survive," he states firmly, words resolute.

This composure is a bluff, a rational decision to avoid spiraling into destruction and despair. You didn’t need his wrath right now, silently demanding rescue. There would be time later for him to unleash his fury, to drive the message into everyone’s heads that if a similar situation ever occurred again, it wouldn’t end with just one Vehicon. He wouldn’t be so composed next time.

"I do not permit you to die," he adds.

In the recess of his servo, blood pools—your reminder that you urgently need medical attention, but also his. Perhaps for the first time since you set foot on the Nemesis. He clings to that need, even though he wishes to experience it under different, more fitting circumstances.

The medic is already waiting in the medbay, preparing the operating table for a small human. Knockout straightens at the sight of his leader and gestures to the empty table, where you are carefully placed. The silver mech steps back but does not leave the room. He intends to witness the procedure, to maintain complete control over it, even if he isn’t the one holding the tools. Needs to be certain that the only thing you leave this room with is scars from the operation. He allows no thought of any other outcome.

"My liege," Knockout begins, but Megatron’s optics remain locked on you. "I must inform you that I’m not yet fully versed in human anatomy."

Fury begins to seep through in the form of bared dentas.

"Well, I trust you are versed enough to save their life."

"Yes, I will do my best, but I must emphasize that the likelihood—"

"Knockout. You have exactly three nanokliks to make a decision. Your life or theirs. What is your choice?"

The medic bows submissively and picks up his tools. "Understood, my lord."

Megatron stays present throughout the entire procedure, closely observing as the bleeding gradually subsides and your body begins to regain its shape. He should be pleased that you’ll survive and soon be able to sit in his servo again—this time not bleeding out. Perhaps you’ll even look at him a bit more kindly when you learn that he personally carried you to the medic and dealt with the wretch who spilled your blood.

Yet his mind keeps returning to the feeling of utter panic he experienced when he saw you barely alive, with a cascade of crimson flowing from your wounds. He hadn’t expected anyone to provoke such a reaction in him—a sensation of dread, of helplessness. It lasted only a moment, swiftly transforming into rage, but it was enough to take him by surprise. Normally, he considers hypotheticals a complete waste of time, but he can’t stop wondering: what if you had died? He knows you won’t, because you belong to him. But if you had truly left him, struck him in his most vulnerable spot by taking yourself away—would anyone have been able to stop him? To halt the devastation before it consumed even him?

"There’s a strong chance they’ll survive," Knockout reports, wiping his servos clean of the unpleasant, human blood.

"I cannot rely on a ‘strong chance,’ Knockout. I need certainty," he growls. "So… is everything fine with [Name]?"

"Yes, my lord. However, they must rest extensively, preferably under the close supervision of a me—"

He doesn’t finish the sentence, as Megatron has already lifted you back into his servo. "I will decide that," he interrupts. "Expect frequent visits. Be prepared." With that, he leaves the medbay.

A claw gently strokes your head, tousling your tangled hair. You’ve already spent too much time in the company of the narcissistic medic—as if he would ever allow you to remain there without his constant vigilance. No, he had sworn to care for you, and not even death could meddle with that vow.

At first, he thinks it’s a weak start to a joke. You like to tell him jokes, maybe that’s how you got to his spark and shaped it into your likeness. He never considered them exceptional, and they were rarely funny, not measuring up to the quality of those from his home planet. But sometimes, they made life more bearable than he’d ever admit because they were yours, and then they became private, reserved just for the two of you.

But the closer he gets, and the larger your figure becomes, the prologue turns cruelly engaging. Because you’re lying motionless on the ground with your eyes closed, and blood seeping from your side. You show no signs of life.

He mass-shifts even before transforming, landing sharply on the ground, pedes digging into the surface.

"[Name]!" he yells. Kneeling beside you, knees sink into the soft earth, staining them with dirt. But his focus remains entirely on your small, unmoving body. "Would you be so kind as to stop joking? Get up!"

Because if this is a joke, it’s exceptionally cruel.

His claws tremble as he brings them closer to you, gently brushing your cheek, trying to rouse you. To make you show him any sign that everything is okay, even though he knows it’s not. As always, he tries to deceive himself, convince himself that you’ll come out of this unscathed, and that the horror before him won’t leave a mental burden behind.

"You fool," he hisses. "This isn’t funny, not even a little, do you hear me? Get up!" Voice cracks, and his strokes quicken. "Ha ha, you got me. Congratulations, one of your pathetic jokes finally caught me off guard. You can stop now..." He’s no longer stating; now, he’s pleading — for mercy, for another dose of humanity that you had mercifully bestowed upon him, even though he never truly deserved it.

With uncharacteristic tenderness, he pulls you into his arms, yearning to feel some sign of life against his body—proof that this isn’t the end. Your heart beats rapidly; feels it drumming against his chassis, granting him temporary peace. But it’s fleeting, as panic swiftly regains control. He doesn’t let it show, the terror boiling inside. He holds you tighter. Optics stare into nothingness as he tries not to think about the implications of your condition and what consequences it might lead to.

"Wake up, do you hear me? Now!" he screams desperately "[Name], please, I feel like I’m losing my mind."

No, you won’t leave him. You can’t do this. You mustn’t.

A faint groan catches his attention, and he gently pulls you away from his chassis to inspect your face. Apparently, you heard his plea, because a grimace appears on your pale face. Starscream can’t discern what it signifies. Pain? Despair? Confusion? Whatever it is, it softens his features, revealing hope that this is, in fact, a poor joke.

You blink rapidly, revealing bloodshot, unfocused eyes that lock onto him. Your chest begins to rise and fall more quickly. And even despite the horror you must feel, the pain burrowing deep into your body, the confusion and exhaustion, you manage to smile for him. As if you had a reason to.

"Star..." you whisper.

"Yes, yes, I’m here! You’re never to scare me like this again, do you understand? Never." His last word is a growl, though his servos remain gentle.

Hearing your voice anchors his thoughts, letting him focus on the possibility that things will be alright. That you’ll both come out of this unscathed, because this entire farce was driving him to madness. But he realizes he doesn’t want to hear you say his name as though it were for the last time. As if it were a farewell. No. You promised him eternity. You broke him, reprogrammed his processor to think only of you, infected his body to make it weep when he hadn’t seen you for too long, and now you intended to leave him? No. He won’t allow it. You swore eternity, and you will keep that promise. Otherwise, it would prove he truly didn’t deserve softness. That he was never meant to know comfort.

"Frag," he curses, lowering his helm because, for some reason, he can’t bear to look at you. Instead, he notices the crimson stain on your side growing, overtaking your shirt and slowly reaching your pants. His olfactory senses are assaulted by the metallic, unpleasant smell, and he concludes that this must be the scent of human death. "Did he do this to you? Hurt you? Violate you?"

Did Megatron finally find out about your relationship? Recognized you as a weak point, a tactic to get to him in the most devastating and cruel way? He searches his memories for provocation, an act of defiance, another attempt to seize power, though he’d recently tried to keep his head down, to behave. For you, so this would never happen. But Megatron needed no particular reason to strike. Especially not him.

Vents a sigh of relief when you weakly shake your head, but it’s not enough to restore calm. You’re still suffering, still bleeding out, and he is powerless. Usually, such powerlessness was closely tied to irritation when he lost control over his own fate. Now, he feels only a chilling terror in his lines at the thought of losing you. Of losing the love you gave him.

"Good... That’s good." It’s not good. Nothing is fragging good.

Your eyelids begin to flutter again, as if you’re fighting with yourself to stay conscious. You try to focus on him, keep your gaze fixed on a single point, but your eyes refuse to cooperate, rolling back.

"[Name]?" your chest rises and falls rapidly. "You must hold on, do you hear me?! Hey, hey! Focus!"

"S-Star..." you try, even quieter than before. "It hurts... help..."

"Stay with me, now. Please," his voice cracks. "You won’t leave me alone, will you? You promised..."

"It hurts..."

"I know, I know, hold on." He repeats himself. Knows how to get out of this situation, to use the last resort. It involves enormous risk and danger, especially for you, but he can’t hesitate any longer. Can’t wait. Can’t lose you.

He sends a message to Ratchet.

"Just a little longer, [Name]." He soothes, though he no longer knows who needs reassurance more. "Don’t make me die with you."

#transformers x reader #optimus x reader #obsessed!optimus #optimus prime x reader #megatron x reader #obsessed!megatron #starscream x reader #obsessed!starscream

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nahimjustfeelingit-writes · 3 days ago

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It Should Have Been You

Imagine: Pearline is Stack’s wife. She finds out the hard way when her husband continues his adulterous behavior.

Pearline Moore ONE-SHOT

Warnings: Smut. Angst, LOTS of dirty talk.

There is a humid, subtropical climate afoot in The South. Everyone takes shelter, and those with homes on raised beams above the waters that flow from the Mississippi River are the more fortunate. The rich, agricultural soil of The Delta is muddy and automobiles have a hard time getting through. A characteristic of alluvial deposition in deep water, where the river actively builds new land through sediments.

Shops close downtown, church’s postponed their congregations, and the plantation fields are overgrown and empty of sharecroppers picking cotton. The heavy showers beat down on rustic, tin roofs and bounced off the edges of iron tubs. Farm life make aggravated noises, stomping and shifting in their designated stalls surrounded by haystacks and various tools.

The weather didn’t keep Pearline Jacqueline Moore away from a local pharmacy owned by a Black Pharmacist named Robert Browning Jr.

Pearline wore her favorite riding boots, a trench coat, and a cloak hat over her moisturized curls with the help of Annie Minerva Turnbo Malone’s Poro Products. Her lush skin glistened from sweat and water as she hurried through downtown from her parked automobile. Pearline shoved past the doors to the pharmacy, the tiny bell above dinging softly, alerting Dr. Browning Jr. as he busied himself within a back room that he used as a storage unit.

She brushed her boots off on a mat as best as she could to keep mud from tracking the floor. Pearline removed her cloak hat, twisting it in her hands nervously, not realizing that she was ringing it out onto the floor. Her riding boots squeaked as she walked further into the pharmacy.

It was a bustling community hub with a strong focus on soda fountains and sundries. While they sold medicines, they also served as social gathering places, particularly during Prohibition, with soda fountains becoming popular. Pharmacists were not just dispensing medications but also providing advice and even counter-prescribing.

Pearline grabbed a basket and loaded it with random items, trying to appear less suspicious on why she was really there. She slipped past a newspaper rack and peeked at the headline on the front in bold, onyx print.

“Mrs. Moore? What you doing out in this awful weather?”

Pearline snapped her eyes towards the front counter.

Dr. Browning Jr. removed his reading glasses and stood dapper in a brown and beige suit with a maroon bow tie. He got rid of his suit jacket and replaced it with an apron, sleeves rolled up past his elbows revealing skin the color of pepper corn. He had a full goatee with a mustache that curled at the tips, sprinkled with gray hair and the hair on his head was close cut. He was a little over fifty years old and married to a stunning black woman from Alabama.

“Evening, Dr. Browning. My pantry is looking a little low. And I…I need some Arsenic to help with these pests hanging around my garden.”

Dr. Browning Jr. accepted Pearline’s basket and began ringing her up at his cash register. Pearline shifted her weight, anxious eyes looking around as if she were being watched.

“Would you like a vial of the poison or an entire bottle?”

“…I’m sorry?” Pearline inquired, seemingly lost as a nervous smile graced her heart–shaped lips.

“I’d suggest a bottle if the pest problem is serious. It’s quite pricy though, Mrs. Moore.”

“Oh! Oh…I think I should go ahead and buy the bottle. You never know, I may need it again.”

Pearline rushed to open her change purse, digging inside to grab a crisp twenty dollar bill. Dr. Browning Jr disappeared within his supply room for all but two minutes. He returned with a bottle of Arsenic, placing it within a box before gently covering it with a paper bag.

“That’ll be eighteen dollars.”

Pearline’s heart raced.

Pearline shifted her gaze towards the door, making sure no one was behind her.

“Mrs. Moore?—”

“Sorry,” she handed him the twenty dollars, “Keep the change. Thank you, Dr. Browning.”

Pearline accepted her bag, carrying it hugged to her slim–thick frame as she backed away.

“You need some help? I’m surprised Stack let you out in this mess.”

The mention of her husband’s name gave her pause.

It also filled her with rage.

“He’s a busy man, Dr. Browning. You know that. I won’t keep you. Have a good rest of your night.”

“You do the same, Mrs. Moore.”

Pearline entered her home, quickly shrugging off her coat to hang on a rack and she took a seat on a wine red chesterfield ottoman within the front foyer of her home to remove her boots. The rain had turned to drizzle by the time she returned home. Pearline wore one of many silky slips, a scandalous choice for wear in public, but she was on a mission.

Pearline lived in one of few luxury homes in The Delta with her husband, Elias ‘Stack’ Moore. It was surrounded by rolling hills and they had their own greenhouse where Pearline enjoyed spending time sipping herbal tea and tending to her botanical garden. Stack had it built for her as an anniversary gift because he knew how much it meant to her. Reminding her of days spent with her grandmother. A Botanist and Holistic Nurse.

Pearline entered her kitchen and sat her grocery bag down on her dining table. She scanned the mess she’d created hours before, old photos cut into pieces, scattered along the floor. Her husband’s dress shirt resting over a dining chair with lipstick stains on the collar. A gut wrenching reminder of what Stack had put her through.

Pearline was every man’s dream girl. She’s beautiful, can sing, built like a brick house, and smart. She’d turned down many boys, all except Elias Moore. He was a little older than her by nine years, but when he set his eyes on her, he made it his business to court her. Stack was a man that moved with a carefree personality. He joked and smiled and charmed everyone in his path. Deep dimples and a smooth tongue.

The opposite of his stoic, quiet, observant brother. Elijah ‘Smoke’ Moore was known for bringing the smoke; the smoldering heat. You didn’t want to get to close for comfort and cross him. Smoke had no problems laying you out with a gun or his fists. You’d think he was made of railroad steel and cast iron.

Pearline was drawn to Stack’s playful energy and the amount of passion and chemistry they shared was like no other. Pearline didn’t care that she was falling head over T-straps for a criminal, Stack made her feel special. He bought her the lifestyle she’d always dreamed of. That made women envious, especially when he married her before leaving to Chicago. They had a beautiful barn wedding where all of The Delta attended.

But, Pearline had to learn the hard way that her husband was a rolling stone. He couldn’t keep his married dick to himself. Whispers of women he bedded while vowed to Pearline sparked heated arguments and lies that rolled off his slick tongue and past his plump lips. One woman living in Little Rock, Arkansas had him by the balls.

Mary.

And her lipstick is what stained her husband’s shirt.

Pearline grew tired of crying. Tired of sleepless nights and waiting for him to return home. Tired of the manipulation and the constant drama filtering back to her. Her so–called girlfriend’s side eyed her. Her mother chastised her for being weak and not going after her man like a proper wife should.

She thought about what it would be like to make him hurt. There was no man in town that she could even think to fuck as a get back. Elias ‘Stack’ Moore and his twin are practically gods within The Delta. Sleeping with some random man would only make her look like the fool. She wanted to kick him off his high horse. And her anger drove her to buy some poison.

And bake it into a chocolate pie.

It’s a luscious chocolate custard resting on a flaky, almost salty crust, topped with a springy meringue. For Pearline, it’s la pièce de résistance and whether times are good or times are bad, it’s always welcome and appropriate.

Stack loved her chocolate pie. She made it for him once a week. If she didn’t stop him, he’d sit and eat the entire thing for himself. At first, she thought to poison his moonshine, but that would only contaminate the entire batch since he prepared it in barrels with Smoke.

Pearline put away her groceries and then she grabbed the poison, setting to work on the chocolate pie.

Ingredients for the pie:

4 tablespoons cocoa or 1 1/2 squares baking chocolate

3/4 cups sugar

5 tablespoons all-purpose flour

1/4 teaspoon salt

2 egg yolks, lightly beaten

1 1/2 cups whole milk

1/2 teaspoon vanilla

1 tablespoon of butter

Ingredients for the meringue:

2 egg whites

1/8 teaspoon kosher salt

4 tablespoons sugar

And a splash—maybe a cup of Arsenic.

As she moved about the kitchen, the smell of rain and grass brought in by the humid wind through her open kitchen windows, an apron secure around her petite waist, Pearline hummed to calm her nerves down and stop herself from crying.

She hummed a song she’d written.

Poison was seen as a discreet way to eliminate someone, with arsenic being a particularly popular choice due to its tastelessness and ability to mimic natural illness.

No one would be able to suspect. It could be something as simple as bad moonshine.

And Stack drank a lot of it. He was well on his way to becoming the next Delta Slim.

Smoke couldn’t stop his brother, that would make him a hypocrite. He had his own addiction to smoking.

Flour painted her cheek and chocolate splattered her apron. Pearline wiped sweat from her forehead as she stared down at the pie. She placed it on a towel before washing her hands to prepare dinner.

She couldn’t believe she was going to kill her husband.

Pearline dressed in a gold silk burlesque flapper cocoon dress with batwing sleeves and a deep plunge in the front. It glided across her skin and molded into the shape of her frame as she walked, the long train dragging along behind her elegantly. Her curly hair was styled in an updo with tendrils framing her oval face. She plucked away unruly hairs from her thick brows to keep them neat and smoothed coca lip balm on her lips.

Chandelier earrings in, skin the color of espresso, she heard the front door open from her place at her vanity. She listened, making out distant laughter and the familiar sound of her husband’s voice. He wasn’t alone. Pearline took meditating breaths to calm herself. She’d already done the deed. It was only a matter of time before he cut himself a slice.

Revenge. Sweet revenge. A desire for freedom. Divorce wasn’t even an option. She wouldn’t get a penny. He needed to die and she would collect all his money and move up north. Maybe New York. Sing in the Cotton Club. Make a new life for herself.

Pearline spritzed perfume on her skin, activating the squeeze bulb, opening with dewy gardenia, its floral heart blooming with African neroli before settling into the intoxicating depth of a merlot wine accord. The essence of magnetic beauty and luminous grace.

One final look at her reflection, Pearline made her way down to the kitchen. In the living room, helping themselves to bourbon from a drink cart, were Smoke and Stack. Stack poured from a decanter, filling Smoke’s glass tumbler full. He did the same for himself. They whispered, smoke puffing on a cigarette as he nodded his head in response to Stack’s scheming words.

Smoke drew his eyes towards the stairs, eyes that took in the sight of Pearline. She looked down at him, meeting his intense gaze, looking away to focus on her husband who not once stopped to acknowledge her. It took for Smoke to nudge his little brother for Stack to finally pay attention.

That cut deep. Pearline flicked her gaze away to her feet covered in kitten heels. She released a shutter.

“Baby…”

Stack left Smoke’s side to approach Pearline. She gave him a practiced smile before opening her arms to hug him. Stack buried his face against her neck, inhaling her perfume while his hands rubbed and groped her.

“Mmm, you smelling good. Looking good too,” Stack leaned back to admire her, “Beautiful, baby,” Stack kissed her hands, “I missed ya’.”

“Missed you,” Pearline bat her lashes at him and tucked her chin with a coy smile, “You hungry?”

“I sure am. Is it aight if Smoke stay for dinner?”

Pearline drew her attention to Smoke. He perched himself against the fire place, lighting the end of his cigarette, orange flame vibrant. He looked at her with this expression that Pearline couldn’t quite understand. He was always unreadable.

“Only if it’s okay with you, sis–in–law,” Smoke spoke with a rasp.

“Of course.”

Pearline hadn’t expected an extra guest. Now, she had to figure out how to get the pie out of the way. Smoke could sense things. He’s observant. He can probably tell Pearline was being sneaky and devious. Seeing as he possesses those exact qualities. She inwardly panicked, wanting to escape from Stack’s hold to dump the pie in the garbage.

“Saw that chocolate pie in there, was about to dip my finger in it but Smoke stopped me before I could…”

Sweat trickled down her temple. She looked between both twins, smiling as best as she could and laughing in a flirty way she’d always had. Stack kissed Pearline’s lips, humming softly as he smiled.

“I got the finest woman in all the fuckin’ world.” He boisterously said, flashing his golds, “Let’s go eat us some food!”

“I’ll set the table, ya’ll go on and drink. I’ll call to supper when it’s ready…”

Pearline turned to walk away, hips switching. She couldn’t control the fact that she had a dump truck. Stack popped her on the underside of her behind, the motion causing her deep brown cakes to jiggle around. Her breath hitched and she swatted Stack’s hand away with a roll of her eyes.

She gave Smoke a sideways glance, heat rising over her face as he watched the two of them.

Pearline entered the kitchen and practically sprinted over to the pie. She exhaled with relief, glad to find it untouched. Pearline lifted the pie and hesitantly tossed it into the trash. She paced for a minute, trying her best to come up with a lie.

She choked on her words slightly as she spoke.

“I–I gotta make a new pie!”

Stack entered the kitchen with his brows pinched together.

“What? Why?”

He searched the kitchen for the pie before walking over to the trash. He lifted the lid, peering inside. The pie was on its side and sliding out of the dish.

“It–uh–it was covered in flies. I saw a couple flies on it.”

Her eyes fell on the open window.

“Must of gotten in through the window,” Pearline released a nervous laugh, “No worries, Stack, won’t take me long.”

“Damn…”

Smoke leaned against the entryway to the kitchen. He removed the cigarette from between his lips, eyes dancing back and forth between Pearline and Stack. His eyes fell to the cupboard beneath the sink, squinting slightly.

“I was looking forward to it, Pearlie. You sure you wanna make another?” Stack asked with a disappointed look.

“Won’t take me long. Promise.”

Stack sucked his teeth.

“Aight, baby…me and Smoke gone be in there listening to some tunes while we talk business. Holla when you finished.”

Stack pecked Pearline on the cheek before leaving the kitchen.

Smoke lingered.

“Errythang aight, Pearlie?” Smoke asked with a hushed tone.

“Yes. Why you askin’?” Pearline replied, eyes darting away from his.

Smoke’s eyes roamed the kitchen before focusing back on Pearline with a penetrating stare, “Listen, Stack—”

“Don’t.”

Pearline held up a shaky finger. She shut her eyes to hold back tears.

“Smoke!”

“Be there a minute, nigga. Be patient!” Smoke shouted back.

He gave Pearline one final look before leaving her alone.

She should have never thrown that pie away.

Hearing his laughter enraged her.

Knowing that he was fucking his octoroon whore inflated her anger.

What the fuck that bitch got on Pearline? What she got over her?

Privilege

Freedom

Fare skin

Loose hair

The beauty standard of America

And Stack craved it. Even though he’d fucked around with other black women, the minute Mary crossed paths with him after she returned to The Delta to bury her mom, Stack wanted that old thing back.

Pearline baked a new pie, silently crying.

But the chaos in the kitchen with her constant stomping and slamming of things had Stack’s attention.

Pearline set the table, almost breaking their fine China.

Stack took longs strides, oxfords loud as he walked.

“The fuck goin’ on, Pearlie?”

He snatched his toothpick from his mouth, glaring at her.

“Diner’s ready!”

Pearline snatched her apron off and tossed it onto the counter aggressively. Smoke trailed in behind his brother, eyes wide and unblinking. He tracked Pearline’s footsteps, jaw clenching.

“I can see the table is set,” Stack swept his concerned eyes over the plates of food, “But why you slamming shit? Got something you wanna say?”

Pearline whirled around, a look of surprise and confusion etched into her pretty face.

“ME?” She inquired with a loud tone.

“Yeah, YOU.”

“Wow…After all the shit you been putting me through. And you askin’ ME if I got something to say?!”

Smoke raised his hands to diffuse the situation.

“Let’s just eat now, aight? Save this shit for later.”

Pearline pinched the bridge of her nose. Stack sat down at the dining table. Pearline almost shivered when Smoke lightly grasped her arm to get her attention. She held his gaze, fighting hard not to break down.

“Come eat, Pearlie…”

“I’m not hungry.”

Stack’s fork and knife clattered to the table. He chewed the rest of his smothered pork chop down before turned his attention to his wife.

“Whatever it is, just say it, woman. I ain’t been messin’ around!”

“Yes you HAVEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!”

Smoke and Stack stared at her.

“Liar…fucking lying ass…piece of shit…”

Pearline opened her pantry and snatched up the shirt with lipstick stains. She marched over, balled it up, and threw it at Stack. He caught it, opening the shirt and when he noticed the lipstick stains, he froze.

“CARE TO TELL ME WHY THE FUCK YOU GOT LIPSTICK ON YOUR SHIRT?! A SHIRT I DISCOVERED WHILE TAKING IN DRY CLEANING?! A SHIRT YOU TRIED TO HIDE FROM ME?! YOU CHEATING BASTARD!”

Smoke fought to keep Pearline back. Stack stared off into space, no words, no more lies. What could he say to get himself out of this?

Pearline shouted between cries of heartbreak, “HOW COULD YOU? AFTER EVERYTHING? WHY DO YOU KEEP GOING BACK TO HER?! WHY, STACK?!”

Pearline snatched a butcher knife from the counter and launched it at Stack. He quickly pushed away from the table, the knife whizzing past his cheek and lodging in the wall. His chest rose and feel with rapid breaths. Smoke grabbed her up by her upper arms to keep her still.

“You crazy?! Tryna kill me?! That shit could’ve been in my head!!!!” Stack yelled, spit flying.

“PEARLIE! ENOUGH!” Smoke boomed.

“Get off me, Smoke!”

“You throwing knives, the hell, Pearlie?!” Smoke shook her to stop her from writhing.

“LET GO OF ME!”

Pearline slapped Smoke. Slapped him across his handsome face. He clutched his cheek that stung from her strikes.

“STOP PROTECTING HIM! HE’S A GROWN ASS MAN! YOU KNOW WHAT HE DOES AND YOU JUST LET HIM DO IT! FUCK YOU. BOTH OF YOU!”

Stack stood, tossing the shirt over his unfinished meal. He was ashamed to even look her in the eye.

“BE A MAN AND FACE ME, ELIAS! OWN IT!” Pearline laid into him with venom, “DO YOU LOVE HER?!”

“Pearlie—”

Pearline grabbed the chocolate pie and catapulted it, watching it hit Stack in the chest. He rocked back on his heels, arms outstretched, his eyes bugged out and his lips curled into a menacing pout.

“ANSWER ME, DAMMIT!!!!!!”

Pearline tried to catch her breath. Stack looked at her with wavering eyes. He titled his head down at his oxfords.

“I…Pearline…”

She gasped.

“You do…”

Smoke shut his eyes.

Stack gave her a cowardly look.

“You can’t even be a man and say it. You’re such a coward, Elias. Why did you marry me? To trap me? To have a notch on your belt? Afraid I’d find a man that really loves me? Your cracker slut is married to a cracker man In Arkansas and yet you can’t stay away from her and be loyal to me?”

Pearline clutched her chest as if she were going into cardiac distress.

“Am I not beautiful? What did I do to deserve this—”

“I have urges, baby. I’m sorry—I know it ain’t the apology ya’ want, but I…can’t control myself. I hate that I keep hurting ya’.”

“No,” Pearline shook her head as tears fell, “you ain’t sorry. You sorry you got caught.”

Pearline folded her arms over her chest. She exhaled, wiping tears away with her fingers.

She sniffled, “And the sad part is…I love you.”

She locked eyes with him. Smoke didn’t pull his attention away from her face for a second.

The grandfather clock on the wall within the living room ticked and ticked.

“I want both of ya’ll to leave.”

“Pearlie—”

“Fuck you, Elias. You don’t get to be sweet and charming. I want you to leave. NOW. Before I grab that knife from the wall, and cut your fucking dick off and feed it to you instead of this food I made!!!!!!”

Stack’s mouth was agape.

Smoke stepped aside.

Pearline made as if she were going to leave but instead she jumped on Stack, beating her fists on his back. Stack tried to grab her arms while shielding himself from being struck in the face.

“PEARLINE!”

Smoke picked her up and sat her on the counter.

“Get your shit, Stack. GO. We leaving.” Smoke ordered.

“Let her blow steam. I deserve it.” Stack said.

“Oh, so now you want her to kick your ass? She wanna kill you, nigga! Unless you wanna be scraps for pigs, I suggest you get your shit and leave!”

Stack looked from the dining table, to his wife, parting his lips to speak. Instead, he walked away, climbing the stairs to pack a luggage.

Smoke looked at Pearline, “If I let you go. Will you stay here while he gettin’ his shit?”

Pearline nodded her head slow.

Smoke released her arms and stepped back. He lit a cigarette and didn’t take his eyes off of Pearline.

“I’m real sorry, Pearlie. I know that don’t mean shit to you comin’ from me…but you don’t deserve this shit. You too good of a woman. Always been. I tried to get him to come home to you…I did…he can’t control himself with that bitch and…I hate to see ya’ hurting.”

“Smoke,” Pearline was exhausted, “You could have told me. You could have come to me. I need to be alone. Just leave. Please leave.”

She hung her head and started bawling. Her cries broke Smoke. Deep, sorrowful, body shaking. Her tears leaked to her dress. Smoke wanted to comfort her. He tried to touch her and Pearline flinched.

Stack’s footsteps caused Smoke to back off. He locked eyes with his little brother, glaring at him. Stack turned away, luggage in his hands.

Smoke allowed his eyes to sweep over her. He didn’t care if she fought him off. He didn’t care if she slapped him.

Smoke positioned himself in front of her, grabbed her face, and planted a kiss to her forehead.

That made her cry harder.

Word spread like famine.

And Pearline refused to feed into the nosy crowd.

She walked around town with her head held high and hips swaying seductively. No matter how hurt she felt, she looked ravishing.

Pearline entered The Chow’s negro store, picking up oranges and lemons, checking to see if they were a good batch before buying them. Bo Chow walked out from a room with a notepad and a pen behind his ear. Little Lisa took care of the line. Pearline helped herself to a jar of strawberry jam.

“Mrs. Moore! You’s doing alright?”

Bo pulled Pearline into a hug.

“I’m doing fine, Bo. Hello Lisa,” Pearline waved to her, “Grace good?”

“Is! She’s expecting.” Bo said with a side smile, glossy black hair falling over his forehead handsomely.

“Oh! My! Congratulations, Bo!”

Pearline beamed.

“I’m hoping for a boy this time.” Bo said.

“Just be glad for a healthy bundle of joy.” Pearline said.

She stood in line behind four people until it was her time to be helped. After paying for her items, she waved goodbye to Bo and Lisa before leaving the store.

The rain had finally stopped and in its place was that humid, Mississippi air. The sun shone down brightly, heating Pearline’s skin. She found her car and got in, heading back home.

Driving back, Pearline pulled up to her home, finding a truck she recognized immediately. Pearline stared at the truck, eyes fluttering with resentment. It’s been damn near two weeks.

Pearline couldn’t deny that she missed her husband, but at the price of her own happiness? Why should she have to put up with his constant disregard for her feelings?

It won’t last, Mary is just a phase.

She hated that she had that voice in her head.

After another minute, Pearline exited her car and with her groceries she walked up to her home. Pearline didn’t pay the truck any mind, expecting Stack to shout her name from the window and beg for forgiveness.

Instead, she caught a whiff of tobacco.

Pearline turned, eyes falling on Elijah ‘Smoke’ Moore with his back against the truck. He stomped out his cigarette. He clasped his hands in front of him and over his crotch. He stared at her beyond the brim of his blue hat. Smoke pushed off his truck, one hand clutching onto the opening of his tweed suit jacket as he approached her with methodical eyes and careful steps.

A breeze picked up, ruffling the bottom of her fitted, purple, floral–printed lapel dress. She wore white T–straps on her feet, and a hat with lace gloves to match the colors in her dress. Pearls decorated her ears.

“How you be?” Smoke finally spoke.

“…I’m okay.”

Smoke stood at the bottom of the steps, staring up at Pearline.

“Stack stayin’ wit me. He not there right now.” Smoke revealed.

Pearline tilted her head, eyes searching for the inevitable truth, “He’s with her?”

Smoke rubbed his hands together, eyes roaming the ground.

“She came knockin’. He answered.”

Pearline stood still and watched Smoke.

“Say sum’, Pearlie.”

Pearline exhaled.

“I want a divorce.”

Smoke frowned slightly.

“I’m tired, Smoke. I deserve better.”

Pearline turned away from Smoke to open her door. She sat her groceries down at her feet. Smoke climbed the steps, picking up the bag. Pearline didn’t say a word. The door swung open and Smoke followed her inside. He walked past the front foyer and disappeared into the kitchen.

Pearline sat her purse down and removed her gloves and hat.

She walked into her kitchen and her footsteps slowed down when she caught Smoke putting away her food.

“Smoke, I can handle it.”

“No, no, no, now…you have a seat.”

Smoke pointed to a dining chair. Pearline took a seat, crossing her ankles modestly and folded her hands within her lap all ladylike. Her back was straight, body screaming confidently, but her eyes told a different tale. She was sad. Lonely. Torn.

Smoke opened her icebox to pour her a glass of lemonade. He then grabbed a napkin, walking over to her and placing it on the table. He removed his hat and sat it on the table. Pearline didn’t say a word as she grabbed the glass, helping herself.

“Why you come checkin’ up on me?”

Pearline searched Smoke’s eyes.

“…Because ya’ mean a lot to me.” Smoke replied.

Pearline scuffed, “Sure I do, Smoke. Poor old Pearline.”

Pearline stood, smoothing out her dress as she walked towards her pantry, grabbing a bottle of wine.

“I need something stronger…”

She drank from the bottle. Smoke watched her with a single brow raised. They sat in silence, Smoke with a cigarette and Pearline with her almost empty bottle of wine. She grew warm and relaxed, tipsy and just as sad and angry as before.

“I wonder if Stack thought of her every time he made love to me…”

He blew smoke from his nose.

“Don’t wonder. Stop thinking about it.”

Pearline rolled her eyes at Smoke.

“Serious…”

Pearline sucked on her bottom lip to stop it from quivering.

“Smoke, am I not good enough? I’ve done things for this man…to please him…make him happy.”

Smoke glanced at her sideways while reclined back in the dining chair, legs wide.

“What things?”

Pearline laughed bitterly, “Doesn’t matter. And it’s personal.”

“You said the shit.” Smoke replied defensively.

“I’m just talkin’. Okay? Venting.”

“And I’m here to listen. Aight?”

Pearline stared at him intently.

“…sexual things…”

Smoke hummed, “Okay…” He made a gesture for her to proceed, “And?”

“…Settled here for seven years. Dealt with all the bullshit. Rubbed his feet and massaged his shoulders. Put my dreams aside to help him fulfill his. Gave him every hole to use…”

Smoke twisted his lips as he listened.

“I thought it made him happy. I guess not.”

Smoke studies his cigarette, the wheels in his head turning.

He licked his lips, “Can I tell ya’ a secret?”

Pearline looked at Smoke curiously.

“You? Opening up?” Pearline teased.

“It’s about you. So I don’t see why not.”

Pearline shifted to face him, hip jutted out enticingly. She propped her elbow onto the table, resting her chin against her palm.

“Well?” She uttered.

“I ain’t want Stack to marry you.”

A pregnant pause.

“…what? Smoke? You serious?”

Pearline didn’t know how to interpret what Smoke revealed. She drew her thick brows together, intrigued by what he said. And the feeling of butterflies.

“Why the hell not?” Pearline questioned.

Smoke struggled to answer her question. He puffed on his cigarette, smoke billowing from between his thick lips. His hand shook slightly until he flexed his chest to gain control of his muscles. He finally met her gaze, never looking away as he parted his lips to speak.

“Cause you should’ve been mine.”

Pearline was paralyzed with shock. She couldn’t believe Elijah’s words. All this time? He’d wanted her too? No way.

“Smoke–Smoke I–I–you’ve always felt like this?”

Smoke gave her a sideways look with unwavering eyes.

“I have. Still do.”

Pearline almost dropped her wine bottle.

She shot up from her seat.

“Go, Smoke.”

Smoke rose to his feet.

“You don’t feel the same?”

Pearline couldn’t believe his words.

“NO!” She shouted with a disbelieving expression.

“I don’t believe ya’, Pearlie. The way ya’ look at me…the way ya’ always looked at me.”

“Stop…”

Pearline brushed past Smoke, climbing the stairs to her room. Her vision blurred with tears. She could hear his footsteps behind her.

“Pearlie…”

Smoke moved around her swiftly, blocking her path.

“I love you—”

“HOW DARE YOU?!”

Pearline shoved at his chest, no use because he was too solid and strong to move. Smoke watched her fire herself out before locking her wrists in his firm grip. He leaned in, eyes boring into hers like he was staring into her soul.

“Go on and beat away, Pearlie. I mean what I say. I’m in love wit’ ya. And you deserve to be happy. I care about my brother, but I ain’t gonna keep fighting this feeling. And ain’t no way I’m a let you sit up here thinkin’ you ain’t the prize.”

Pearline blinked up at Smoke. He stroked her cheek with his thumb. Softly. Delicately. Reassuringly.

“…You bastard. How dare you take advantage?”

Smoke cocked his head.

“I’m pouring my heart out, and you say that?”

Pearline slaps Smoke. Hard.

“GET. OUT.”

Smoke growled, top lip snarled.

“You gon’ stop hitting me.” He warned.

“You deserve it.” She sassed.

Smoke toward over Pearline. She jumped slightly.

“So, you don’t feel the same?” Smoke’s husky voice challenged her.

“No.” Pearline replied, looking down his body with a slow sigh.

Smoke stood firm. Pearline peered up at him.

“…I’ll leave. But I’m still keepin’ my eye on you.”

Smoke gave her a once over before making his way down the stairs. Pearline’s chest heaved up and down with a shaky exhale.

Some nights later, Pearline got dressed to perform a new song she’d written titled Pale Pale Moon. She spent majority of the day emptying the closets and drawers of Stack’s things, part of her wanting to burn them but deciding it wasn’t worth it. Instead, drove down to a local thrift store and dropped the bags off without a backward glance.

He’d taken the things that meant more to him. His money. His jewelry. Leaving behind the one person he vowed never to leave. She’d done enough crying herself to sleep. And yet she couldn’t get Smoke out of her head. His confession.

Pearline deep down admired Smoke beyond him being her brother–in–law. She’d always known him to respect women and he always treated Pearline kindly. He would listen to her speak about things he didn’t understand, like how to grow certain flowers. He always took up for her, checked in on her, and stared at her with What Pearline now understood as deep affection.

She was seen with Smoke.

That’s all she ever wanted.

“Stop talking to her like that, Stack for I beat ya’ ass.”

“You ever need anything, don’t hesitate to ask, Pearlie.”

“You just as important to me, Pearlie.”

Everything he’d ever said to her. Every hug, every smile, every look. All of it was much more. Much deeper.

Messenger’s gave her a standing ovation.

Delta Slim and his band played to the words of Pale Pale Moon.

Pearline felt alive. Her lush skin so smooth like the sultry blues music.

She needed a distraction from Smoke.

But his words the other day…

He told her that he was in love with her. Told her to her face and with no shame.

Pearline was dropped off by a friend to her home since she’d been drinking. She waved goodbye before entering, shutting and locking the door behind her. Pearline braced herself against the wall, removing her shoes. She walked the length of her front foyer and the sound of a lighter flickering caused her to grab a vase, ready to lunge it at whoever broke into her home.

Vase raised above her head, she turned the corner.

“Who’s there—”

Standing tall and wearing a soft blue shirt rolled up his arms and black slacks, was Smoke.

“You broke into my house?”

Smoke dug into his pocket, swinging a key ring in front of her face.

“Put that shit down before you break it.” Smoke ordered.

“Why should I? You show up unannounced.”

Smoke took it upon himself to take it from her. Pearline didn’t fuss. Smoke placed it back where she’d gotten it from.

“You performed at Messenger’s?”

Pearline’s eyes swept over his body. She drew her shoulders back, strutting past him, removing the silk scarf draped over the front of her neck and down her back. Smoke caught it before it hit the floor. He folded it neatly and placed it on the coffee table, patting it with his fingertips. Pearline gazed at him.

“You look lovely, Pearlie.”

“What do you want, Smoke?” Pearline asked with an exasperated look.

“The truth.”

“It’s late. You can see yourself out…”

Pearline crossed her arms and poked her hip out.

Smoke motioned towards the kitchen with his head, “What that arsenic for?”

Pearline’s arms dropped.

“Mhm,” He puffed on his cigarette, “You tried to poison my brother with that pie.”

Pearline exhaled, “I did. No use in lying. Maybe you shouldn’t have stopped him from sampling it.” Pearline replied with her voice laced with unshed tears, “Don’t matter, I ain’t gonna poison him.”

“Cause of me.”

“So? I chickened out, Smoke.”

“Why you keeping it?” Smoke probed with narrow eyes.

“Doesn’t matter.”

“Pearlie…” Smoke clenched his jaw, “I care about ya’…And I need to know if ya’ feeling the same.”

Pearline bounced her foot.

“You won’t stop unless I tell you…”

Pearline locked eyes with Smoke.

“Smoke..I…I should have picked you. Then I know I’d be treated better.”

A single tear fell.

“You can still chose me—”

“It’s too late for that. Won’t do us any favors acting on those feelings, now would it?”

Smoke disagreed.

“It’ll do us more than just a favor, baby…”

Pearline nibbled on her bottom lip.

Smoke strolled up on Pearline. Her breath hitched, eyes closing when his body pressed against hers. He placed a hand on the nape of her neck, tilting her head. Smoke leaned in, closing the distance between them. Pearline parted her lips ever so slightly, giving Smoke and entry. His fluffy lips touched hers with uncertainty. Pearline snaked her hands up his chest and secured her arms around his shoulders.

Smoke intensified the kiss. Soft pecks turned into open–mouthed movements. Pearline’s skin tingled with desire. Smoke’s chest bloomed with passion. He’d longed to taste her. He regretted not making a move on Pearline when he should have. His little brother had always been the smooth talker, the lady magnet.

The sound of lips smacking and soft breaths.

The feel of his rough hands gliding over her hips to grab ass.

Pearline pulling him in closer with her hands clutching onto his shirt.

They kissed their way towards the stairs. Smoke broke away from her lips to pick Pearline up. She wrapped her legs around him, diving in for more. Their tongues battled for dominance as Smoke climbed up the stairs. They stumbled, knocked against walls, and snatched off each other’s clothes all the way to her room.

“I need you,” Pearline whispered longingly.

“I’m here…I’m right here…”

Pearline wiggled out of Smoke’s arms and she dropped to her knees in a flash. He snatched off his shirt and watched her pull his belt from the loops. She tossed it to the floor and with her eyes on his, Pearline opened his zipper and unbuttoned his pants.

“Let me pleasure you, Elijah.”

“Go on, bring him out.” Smoke commanded.

Pearline did just that. She hummed sensuously. It was heavy in her hand and warm to the touch. She jerked him a little, watching the way he licked his lips down at her. Pearline wrapped her lips around his head and started sucking with no hands.

“Ahhh, fuck…”

Pearline gathered spit on her tongue as she sucked. Smoke watched like he was staring down at a circus act. Pearline was doing tricks he ain’t never experienced in his thirty plus years on earth. She made spit bubbles and slurped it back up. Her tongue curled around his shaft like a slick tentacle. She would pop her lips off and spit on it. Over and over. Getting down right disgusting like some street walker.

“This how you do it, Pearlie? FUCK.”

She attacked his balls with gusto. Moaning and whimpering with a mouth full of his nuts and big dick. Smoke couldn’t believe his eyes. He guessed the saying pretty girls love sucking dick that his little brother always said was true. He had a woman at home that did it like this? Ain’t no other woman come close to Pearline.

“Pearlie…don’t stop…”

She inhaled his dick and stroked him with two hands. Bawdy blues and all. Smoke weaved his fingers through her soft curls and controlled her movements. He fed her mouth some dick since she worked so hard to make him cum. His eyes turned puppyish and he dragged his bottom lip between his teeth.,

“I’m a cum so fucking hard!”

Pearline did a disappearing act with his dick. Smoke almost saw heaven. He grunted deep with his release. Not a single drop wasted.

He stared at her as she licked him clean. He backed away, slapping his tip on her wet tongue.

“So nasty wit’ it. You suck me like I’m ya’ man.”

“I’m passionate about giving, Smoke. It’s my favorite job,” Pearline licked her lips, eyes staring at his dick like it was made of the purest gold, “Especially when it’s nice and big like this. One thing about me,” Pearline stroked him and tongue kissed his tip between words, “I was known for being the best dick sucker. I’m not ashamed to admit…when you’re good at something,” Pearline ran her tongue from base to tip, “you keep going…and going…”

“Dayum…”

She was sucking on him again. Smoke stroked her face, caressed her hair, told her how pretty she looked, and moaned her name.

“You nice and thick in my mouth again, Elijah. Wanna give me what I’m workin’ so hard for?” She teased.

“Pearline! Ahhhh…”

She gulped his cum down again, giggling at his face.

“Get up.”

Smoke didn’t wait for Pearline to do it, he picked her up himself. Smoke spun her around and let his hands explore her naked body. Toned and thick at the same time. He watched her ass recoil beneath his palm, chocolate ass bouncing like jello.

“All this body…I’d handle ya’ ass erryday.” Smoke talked slickly.

“How would you handle me, Papa?”

That papa drove him crazy.

“I’d bend ya’ over…stick my tongue in ya’ pucker and ya’ cat…make ya’ suck my dick outta my sleep…after a hard day,” Smoke whacked her on the butt, “Then I’d make nasty, messy, love to ya’ baby…all over this fuckin’ house…”

Smoke picked Pearline up and placed her on the bed. She crawled away from him and he followed like a predator to his prey, nibbling on her flesh with his teeth, licking the soles of her feet. She got on all fours and dipped her back like a feline. Smoke put his face in it, suffocating himself on purpose. Pearline moved her hips, riding his face.

“Smoke…” she moaned, “Just like that…eat Stack’s pussy…”

“This ain’t his no more…”

Pearline whimpered.

“It’s yours?”

“All mines, baby. All this twangy pussy…”

“Shiiittttt…”

Smoke resurfaced, growling. He put his face in it again and growled some more. Pearline arched her back and cried out when Smoke jabbed her entrance with a pointed tongue.

“I can’t see you…I need to see how you doin’ that, Papa…”

Smoke couldn’t agree more. He flipped Pearline over and she opened up so wide her hips ached.

“Can’t get no wider than that, baby…so eager…”

“Feast on me, Papa…let me watch…” Pearline begged.

Jagged, labored, and sharp breaths escaped her mouth. Smoke’s handsome face and those juicy lips munched on Pearline’s pussy with gluttony, exactly what she wanted to see from her position on her back. His eyes are low like he was high off of her tangy taste and his lips and tongue moved in sync with each other. Pearline tightened her vaginal muscles around his fingers that were seated deep in her pussy and just like that, she leaked on his tongue. As long as his tongue, lips, and fingers stay on her she’ll give him what he wanted.

“Your pussy is so pretty and tight, baby…” Smoke takes two fingers to gently stroke her cum covered inner lips with an enthralling and spellbinding expression on his face, bottom lip all pouty, and golds on display, “I’ll take care of ya’ Pearlie…anything ya’ need…ya’ pussy ate up…fucked real good…spoiled…loved on the proper way…I’m there…”

Pearline held her legs up like Smoke instructed. She begged for him to eat her pussy. Smoke wanted to taste that twat, taste the mixture of salty sweetness. The way Pearline moved like a feline on stage, captivating the audience, hips gyrating and ass moving in a slow motion, smoke wanted to dig his tongue in it and sample it. He wanted her to do all that on his tongue and his dick.

“I think these inches about right for ya’, huh?” His onyx eyes flicker up to gaze at her. The way his irises looked, she can feel his eagerness to fuck the shit out of her instantaneously. No words needed, just his eyes doing the talking. Pearline nodded her head slowly before chewing on her bottom lip.

“Smoke,” Pearline started pushing her pussy against his tongue, humping as Smoke wiggled it and sucked away, “Fuck! Fuckfuckfuck!”

Her musk crowded his nose and grew stronger the more she creamed.

“That’s right…feed me this good pussy…”

“As tasty as you are…mmm,” Smoke showed her just how delicious she is, “Don’t you worry, Pearlie, I’ll give you what you deserve…”

“I…I–I deserve it…” Pearline struggled to form words between moans.

She stilled her hips so he could suck her up. Pearline gasped, hands shaking and unsure if she wanted to grab his head or the sheets.

“Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhh—”

Smoke’s rattling breaths fanned her pussy. He licked his lips and stared at the beautiful flower before his eyes with an intoxicating gaze. He covered her inner thighs with soft kisses, listening to her calm breaths. He stared up the valley of her glistening body.

“I need you on top, Pearlie…”

Smoke gets up to sit on the end of the bed, helping Pearline climb on top of him. His large hand is on the back of her head, pushing her face towards his so he could make her taste his lips. Smoke smirked as he kissed her, slipping his skillful tongue into her mouth so she could taste that sweet pussy all over his taste buds. All you could hear was the slurping of lips and heavy breathing.

Pearline fumbled with his pants, his lips fighting to keep kissing her and each time she pulled on the fabric his fat dick would jump and brush against her pussy lips. Finally, skin-to-skin contact. Smoke’s muscular thighs, heavy balls, and that thick dick. Pearline didn’t even wait, as soon as his pants were pushed past his dick she squatted over him while his toned hips pushes his dick up to meet her.

“Elijah…” Pearline grabbed onto his shoulders.

All she can feel is solid, throbbing, long girth entering her from beneath. Her inner lips all the way to her clit pulsates with need. Smoke continued to pump her pussy at a slow pace with his hand reaching up to grip her throat. Pearline’s eyes are focused between her legs and she watched with awe at the seductive motion of his hips burying his dick deeper and deeper...his abdominal muscles crunched and the more noise her pussy made, Smoke’s thrust deepened.

She was staring back and forth from his dick to his face with a delusional expression—still in disbelief about how much dick this man possesses. Identical to his brother. Pearline is still in shock that she was fucking her brother–in–law. She let out a gasp and her head goes back so far Smoke had to cradle it. The closer Smoke pulls her body towards him, her erect nipples brush his lips. He opens his mouth wide, his long, thick tongue showing both stiff peaks some attention before gently sucking it.

He had her slim waist in a firm position as he rocked her up and down his dick. It was a sensual dance.

“Why you fuckin’ me like you love me?” Pearline whispered.

“Cause I do love ya’…”

“We shouldn’t be doing this…” Pearline whined.

It was too late for that.

“I’m ‘bout to tear that ass up,” Smoke warned her with a forceful, guttural voice. He picked Pearline up by her waist and turned her around, “Spread your fucking thighs...c’mon, baby, open that pussy up I need that shit so bad...yessss...got this pussy driving me crazy, Pearlie...this wet ass pussy...make love to this pussy all fucking day, baby…”

“Oh, my goodness!”

"Pussy getting wetter with papa’s fat dick up in it?”

Pearline moaned in response. This was the most vocal Smoke had ever been. He couldn’t wait to have her.

"Pearlie…fuck…" Smoke moaned, "darling...I swear to God,...do you know how I’d kill to be up in this? Huh? Make you mines...I’m stroking it…all this wet pussy wrapped around my fucking dick...alla ‘dis ass? dassit baby...fuck on daddy like that…”

Pearline couldn’t help herself as she leaned over, ass high while she rode Smoke’s dick in reverse cowgirl. She looked back at him, curls in her face and heart racing from the workout she was giving her pussy. She could feel Smoke’s fingers graze her ass cheeks before they were on lower lips. Pearline’s peach fuzz tickled his thumbs as he spread heropen so that he could watch the way his dick pushed past her swollen vulva, producing more cream.

“Damn, Pearlie…it’s like ya’ pussy been wanting this dick…you’re so wet…”

“Unh, yes—”

“Ohhh, you work it like that, huh? That’s how you riding this daddy dick?” Smoke groaned and it made your clit twitch.

“You makin’ this dick hella sloppy,” Smoke said and she heard the obstacle in his voice to hold his nut off. Pearline was working the tip of his dick now, all that beautiful dark skin and the muscles in her back mesmerizing him.

“Elijah…” Pearline moans, but it’s so low with how loud her pussy is.

Smoke was in a trance watching her ass bounce and clap against his crotch each time she came down on his dick. The cotton candy pink center in contrast with her deep brown skin made him salivate.

“Ooh—”

“Papa hittin’ that spot? Yeah? Here, lemme hit it for ya’ some more.. ooh, baby, ya’ takin' it…there ya’ go…hmmmm, pussy is yankin’ me...here some more dick for, ya’…”

Pearline looked back and saw the intensity in his eyes and then she could feel his dick in her stomach. Her face felt tight and hot and the heat from Smoke’s body had her shimmery skin sweating. Pearline felt tears pricking her eyes and her mouth fell open, drooling with lust. This shit was too good.

“Ima cum on this dick, Papa!”

“Gon’ head that’s what the fuck I want,” Smoke said menacingly, “Where the fuck is it?!”

“Ohhhhhhh, Shit—”

“Bounce on that dick…just like that…bring that ass down on me, girl...ahhhh, fuck…you do it so nasty on this wood, girl...so fucking nasty. Been wanting me to fuck ya’ tail up…you like fucking the other twin, baby?”

“Yes! Yes! Yes!”

Pearline’s ass flopped down in Smoke’s lap, her walls like a tight capsule squashing his dick for dear life.

“Fuck, Pearlie…”

Smoke stood with his dick still buried inside of her and turned her around with her back arched, knees on the bed, and feet hanging over the edge. His eyes swept over her body as he spread her cheeks apart. Pearline glanced back, eyes lowering between his legs. Thick. Veins pulsing. She reached behind to spread her creamy folds for him. Their eyes met and he purposely sank into her agonizingly slow.

“I love the way you moan when I push all this daddy dick deep inside of you…” Smoke pulled out, doing it again, “Like ya’ singing the blues to me…”

“It makes my pussy feel so full, Papa...I love the way you fuck me...it feels so good, baby, don’t stop stroking me…”

“You love knowing you fuckin’ Smoke, huh?”

Pearline’s warm, wet, tight pussy gripped his dick and when she reached back to grab for his balls, she couldn’t believe how heavy they were. If he keeps going at a slow pace like this, making her pussy cream and sound like this, Smoke gon’ erupt and make a large mess all in his sister–in–law’s pussy.

His hands were slapping her ass around to let her know she made his dick feel good with the loving he was giving her. It was deep and his words were nasty but his strokes were patient and savoring—like he wanted to stay in her married pussy as long as he could and make her moan as much as her voice box can produce.

His thick dick is slow and torturous sliding in and out her, pussy lips snug around the head of his dick every time he enters her. Smoke would slide all the way in, her pussy making all kinds of noises, then he would pull all the way out. Pearline knew why he was doing this—sliding in and pulling out. He loved the way his wide tip pushed past her walls. He loved the warmth and her juices making his dick all sticky.

He was taking his time, learning the hole his brother fucked, the pussy his little brother neglected. Smoke could only imagine slippery and sticky Pearline could make his dick. She was creaming and oozing out with each stroke and it’s all over his dick and balls.

“You like it messy, yeah?” Pearline asked with a gasp in between.

“Arch that fuckin’ back.” That was his response.

“Like this, Papa?” She whispered as she pointed that plump ass further in the air, shaking it a little for him, “I want you to hit the bottom of this wet pussy...hold it there and feel me squeeze that dick…”

“Pearlie…”

“You like it messy, make your pussy cum—”

Smoke grunted.

“This shit mines? I thought you said we ain’t suppose to be doin’ this here?”

Pearline whimpered when he pushed deep enough for her to feel pressure. He was playing with her. She loved it.

“We ain’t…it’s wrong…”

Smoke hooked his hand around the front of her neck and he peered down at her with a mug on his face.

“I shouldn’t be fuckin’ my pussy? Thought ya’ wanted this dick?”

Smoke gave her two forceful strokes as a reminder. Pearline’s eyes crossed. He did it again, watching her face contort in the vanity mirror across from them.

“Talk to me, baby. Want it?”

“Yes, yes, please, give it to me…”

His punishing strokes hit Pearline out of nowhere, knocking the wind out of her chest and tearing her guts up.

She continued her shit-talking while her ass clapped back on him, “Yes, Elijah, fuck this pussy, take it, I’m a cum all over that dick...fat dick making me cum right now...oh my God…that big dick making me cum right now…uhhhhhhhhhhh…”

She was cut off from Smoke’s hand on the back of her neck, pushing her face down into the mattress.

“This fuckin’ pussy...I’ll get ya’ knocked up, baby. I swear I will.”

Her lips parted and she started drooling on the bed.

“I know you feel these nuts banging that clit...that’s what I’m talkin ‘bout.”

“SMOKE!”

“Yeah? Yeah, baby?” Smoke teased.

He was beating her walls out.

“Don't you ever think you ain’t special...look at all this…you ain't playing with no lil’ boy…you know what a beast can do to ya’ sexy ass…”

Smoke was reminding her that this is what she’ll be getting tonight, the next morning, the day after that…

Smoke pulled out and rubbed her clit back and forth with his dick, and all she could remember before seeing stars was pushing out a fountain from her pussy—wetting up the sheets, the hardwood, and Smoke. He kept going, his dick rubbing her swollen clit back and forth.

“This pussy is too fat and juicy...wet pussy dripping...making a fucking mess on this dick...keep it up and I’m sucking on ya’ pussy again.”

“Please…I wanna feel your lips again, Papa.”

Smoke groaned.

He got down behind Pearline and ate to his hearts desire. She reached around and grabbed his head. Smoke massaged her ass while french kissing her pussy from the back. Loud, smacking of the lips.

“You think you can steal this pussy from your brother every night?” Pearline dirty talked.

Smoke’s tongue worked harder. When he was finished, Pearline turned over onto her back, thighs spread and knees to her chest with her fingers pushing her puffy folds back to show him where he needed to nut.

“Clean Big Papa dick off first,” Smoke is knelt on the bed near her face. All she can see hovering above her is the underside of his dick and his balls. Pearline extended her neck, mouth wide and tongue flicking before grabbing him by the balls. Mouth engulfing him, Smoke swipes two fingers over his tongue before bringing them to her clit while she sucked.

“Get that motherfucker nice and wet too, baby…”

Her lips pop off his dick, “Drain that dick in me, Papa.”

“Shit, get ya’ pregnant? Pearlie don’t say sum shit that’ll get ya’ in trouble…let my dick go.”

Pearline’s lips left Smoke’s tip. She looked up at him with glossy eyes.

“I wanna cum like this,” Pearline spread her thighs so far that her feet touched the bed on either side of her. Smoke walked around and between her legs, his erection in hand, jerking downward to open his slit and show her his tasty pre-cum.

“Damn...my dick...shit so stiff I could bust from the sight of ya’ pretty ass,” Smoke was back inside of her, “ima always have ya’...ya’ love me, girl?”

The gruff tone mixed with his words has her breath uneven and her heartbeat a little faster.

“...Wha?” Pearline was astounded. He was still sexing her missionary, her body moving back and forth against the bed in time with his strokes.

“I said...do ya’ love me?” His jaw clenched tightly and his eyes were serious.

“...Yesss…” Pearline turns her head away because now she can’t look at him as her tears begin to cloud her vision. Smoke wasn’t having that. He grabs her chin, forcing her to look at him. His brows are furrowed and his lips are parted.

“I love ya’. I love you and I ain’t letting ya’ go...I want ya’ to remember that and take every fucking word I’m saying seriously, Pearlie.”

Smoke’s lip had curled up and his eyes were so intense that she could literally feel them burning into hers.

“Do ya’ understand me, girl? I fucking love you...”

Pearline weeped. Smoke’s tongue found its way to her nipples and he starts sucking each one softly. His patience. It didn’t matter how long it took for him to finally have her, he made that his mission. Her happiness means the world to him. She had moments of insecurity but his reassurance makes her realize it doesn’t matter. He dreams of all the ways he can take care of her, how he would treat her better and love her better. She’d wake up happy knowing she was properly taken care of. She’d feel more at home with him than she ever felt with Stack. And she believed him.

Smoke buries his face against her neck and with his hands wrapped around her shoulders to keep her still and his hips pistoning in and out, Pearline can feel him pushing all the love that he could deep inside of her.

She locked her ankles around him and shut her eyes tight to stop her tears. He was licking, sucking, and biting all over her neck. Pearline continuously gasps in his ear with each deep thrust of his. Her hand is on his firm ass and she start forcing his hips down even more.

“Dig fucking deeper,” She whispers to him.

“Dayum...dayum,” He groaned in her ear, “Pearlie…I wanna cum inside of ya’!”

“Yes!”

“I’m about to bust this shit wide open—”

Her mouth went wide with ecstasy and Smoke’s hand was on the back of her head to watch her face while he forced himself deep inside, stopping at the precise moment he heard her try to utter a sound before doing it all over again and making her eyes roll. Smoke kissed and nibbled along her jaw. Her pussy didn’t make no sense to him.

Pearline felt the same about his dick. He was really stretching her out and the way his biceps trembled she knew he was about to cum heavy and hard. Pearline widened her legs for him some more. Smoke brought her ankles up to rest on his shoulders and he lifted to his hands, dropping dick off in her.

“It’s right here for you...cum in your pussy, Papa...this your pussy,...this your pussy, Papa...this your pussy—”

“Take my cum...take all my cum up in this pussy...ahhh...shit...I got more for ya’...that’s it...goddamn this pussy won’t let me go...keep cumming—”

Pearline could feel the sensation of his cum filling her pussy up and that’s when her own orgasm extended from the bottom of her pussy all the way up to the surface and made her spasm beneath him. It was fucking, but with so much affection for each other. Smoke eases out of her and even with him not there she still felt stretched out and aching. Smoke is on his back next to her, his dick still rigid. Pearline turns to the side, one leg coming up to rest on top of his while her feet rubbed against his inner thigh. She looked up to see Smoke staring at her—just studying her face.

“I love you.”

Pearline’s shyness took over. The intensity in his eyes. She knew he meant it.

“You really love me?” Pearline asks with a shaky and sweet voice.

“Real shit, baby...real shit.”

She beamed and hid her face. Smoke chuckled.

“I can’t believe we just had sex.”

“We made love, Pearlie.” Smoke corrected.

The harsh reality of what just happened loomed over her.

“…What does this mean?” Pearline asked with a small voice.

“It means whatever ya’ want it to mean…but just know, I can make ya’ happy, Pearlie. Let me love ya’.”

Pearline sits up.

“Smoke…if Stack finds out—”

“So what?”

“You came in me! What if I get pregnant? We ain’t had sex in months! He would know!”

“Pearlie…”

Smoke stilled her. Pearline locked eyes with him. Smoke tried to find the words to say.

“What is it, Smoke?”

He was crestfallen.

“Pearlie…Stack…Stack been seeing Mary more…cause he thinking of how to get her away from Arkansas without her husband finding out she pregnant.”

Pearline cocked her head back. A fresh wave of tears swam in her eyes.

“W-what? What you sayin’? She pregnant with his baby? Smoke? No��no, no, no, no—”

Smoke wrapped his arms around Pearline.

“You knew all this time?!—”

“She just found out. She came to tell him. Pearlie…”

Smoke lifted her into his lap. He allowed her to cry, stroking her back and kissing her hair. She cried for a while, shaking against him. Smoke stared down at her, his thumb caressing her cheek.

“Pearlie?”

“…I should have killed him.”

Pearline sat up in Smoke’s lap. She had this far away look in her eyes.

“Stack a grown man. I can’t keep blaming you for his faults, Smoke. You’ve done enough to protect him and look after him. He never knew how to watch his own back without you being there…”

Smoke dropped his eyes. Pearline finally looked at him. She tilted his chin up, her eyes flicking from his face to his chest.

“Why didn’t you steal me from him? Why did you let him take me away from you?” Pearline contested with a knot in her throat.

“…why did ya’ have to fall in love wit’ him instead of me?” Smoke brazens.

Pearline held his gaze, even as tears streamed from her eyes.

“It should have been you.”

@blackisy2k @thickeeparker @theereinawrites @angelin-dis-guise @thee-germanpeach @harleycativy @slut4smokemoore09 @readingaddict1290 @blackamericanprincessy @aristasworld @avoidthings @brownsugarcoffy @ziayamikaelson @kindofaintrovert @raysogroovy @overhere94 @joysofmyworld @an-ever-evolving-wanderer @starcrossedxwriter @marley1773 @bombshellbre95 @nybearsworld @brincessbarbie @kholdkill @honggihwa @tianna-blanche @wewantsumheaad @theethighpriestess @nearsightedbaddie @charmedthoughts @beaboutthataction @girlsneedlovingfanfics @cancerianprincess @candelalanegra22 @mrsknowitallll @dashhoney25 @pinkprincessluminary @chefjessypooh @sk1121-blog1 @contentfiend @kaystacks17 @bratzlele @kirayuki22 @bxrbie1 @blackerthings @angryflowerwitch @baddiegiii @syko-jpg @inkdrippeddreams @rolemodelshit

#nahimjustfeelingit-writes #sinnersfanfiction #elias stack #elias stack moore #elijah smoke moore #elijah smokes #pearline sinners #sinners smut #smokestacktwins #smoke x stack #smoke sinners #stack sinners

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theonestopshop · 3 months ago

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AACPUNK

AACpunk is a movement that challenges ableism and promotes the acceptance and inclusion of all forms of communication. It stands for the inclusion of individuals who rely on Augmentative and Alternative Communication (AAC), including nonverbal individuals, neurodivergent people, and those with various communication challenges, whether temporary or permanent. It works to break down barriers such as prohibitive costs, restrictive protocols, and social stigma, ensuring that all individuals have equal access to AAC tools.

Flag meaning

The top blue is representing communication in all its forms

The red is for breaking of barriers, stereotypes and ableism

The light tan-brown for neurodivergence

The gray for self-determination

And the cobalt for free access

Flags by @kpopwerewolf

Person with AAC symbol by @blackholemojis

ALT FLAG

Core Beliefs of AACpunk:

• Communication is a right, not a privilege. No one should be denied access to AAC tools of any kind.

• All communication is valid. Whether someone uses text-to-speech devices, symbol boards, writing, gestures, or any other form of AAC, their voice matters.

• Rejecting ableism in communication. Society often devalues nonverbal and AAC users, treating them as lesser. AACpunk stands against this by demanding equal treatment and respect.

• Breaking barriers to AAC access. Many AAC users struggle to get the tools they need due to cost, medical gatekeeping, or stigma. AACpunk fights for free and open access to communication tools.

• Neurodivergent and disability pride. AACpunk is inherently tied to neurodivergent and disabled liberation, embracing identity without the need for “fixing” or forced conformity to verbal speech norms.

AACpunk is inherently supportive of:

• All individuals with verbal communication challenges, no matter how they express themselves.

• No-tech, low-tech, and high-tech AAC users.

• Individuals who are neurodivergent, disabled, and who choose AAC as their primary means of communication.

• Self-determination in communication choices, without societal pressure to conform to verbal norms.

• Accessible education, workplaces, and social spaces for all individuals, regardless of communication style.

• The ability to communicate anything, even content deemed controversial or inappropriate, including through symbol-based AAC.

• Free access to AAC tools, ensuring that economic barriers do not prevent communication.

AACpunk is inherently against:

• Speech supremacy and verbalism, the belief that spoken language is superior.

• Medical and educational systems that gatekeep access to AAC, preventing people from receiving the tools they need.

• Forced speech therapies and practices that demand conformity to verbal communication norms.

• The infantilization of AAC users, treating them as less than or incapable of making their own choices.

• The exclusion of AAC users from conversations about accessibility, rights, and inclusion.

• Dehumanizing attitudes toward nonverbal individuals and those who use AAC.

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snarky-badger · 2 years ago

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Places to donate to help Palestine

PCRF.net - They did over a 100 medical missions in 2022 (Palestine Children’s Relief Fund)

Middle East Children's Alliance - A Non-profit organization fighting for the well-being and rights of Middle Eastern Children. They also have a link to a 'tool kit' to help spread information about the Gaza Genocide. I'm linking to it directly HERE

Anera: Where Hope Finds a Way - They provide everything from food, medicine and hygiene kits. $30 equals 16 blood bags - an essential thing for helping doctors help people survive horrible physical trauma.

UNICEF.org - Link to where you can donate to help UNICEF get aid to those suffering in Palestine.

And because I know damn well that lots of people don't have the extra funds to donate money - you can help by simply clicking here once a day. It donates ad revenue. Click to help Palestine

[I wanted so much to find other places people could donate that weren't in the US or Canada, but I was having problems figuring out how to ensure that they were reputable. If anyone knows of any, please reblog and add the links!]

And some basic informational sources for those who want to understand what's really going on other than the misleading information from the media.

BDS - The Boycott, Divestment, Sanctions movement works to end international support for Israel's oppression of Palestinians. Offers actual news about what's happening.

Decolonize Palestine - In depth information about the history and origins of Palestine. Also has a great 'debunked myths' section that lists almost all of all the lies the Media has been peddling.

Mondoweiss - An independent website devoted to informing readers about developments in Israel/Palestine and related US foreign policy. (Be aware: Some articles show disturbing images of the horrors happening in Gaza.)

Petitions I found with reputable track records (there are a LOT of fakes out there)

Canada:

Independant Jewish Voices Canada - Gaza on the Brink Ceasefire Now! - Prewritten letter to Justin Trudeau and Mélanie Joly calling for an immediate ceasefire, and for an end to the collective punishment of Palestinians. Just sign your name and it sends a letter!

There are several other ways (Including email addresses to various people/companies, as well as physical addresses you can mail letters to) listed here.

DON'T send threats/hate mail. That does nothing but make them double down on their current stances. Be polite. You don't have to take a happy tone, but be polite.

United States:

USA - Tell Congress: Stop Fueling the Gaza Genocide - Demanding an immediate ceasefire and for Humanitarian Aid to be allowed into Gaza.

Jewish Voice for Peace - You can use their form for send a letter to Congress to demand that they should focus on de-escalation instead of sending money and weapons to Israel so they can continue their genocidal war against Palestinians.

Jewish Voice for Peace (part 2) - Fill out this form and inform President Biden that he should call for a ceasefire and stop supplying money and weapons to Israel.

#free palestine #palestine aid #how to help palestine #stop the genocide #free gaza #help palestine #charities #non profit

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utkuerdemozerblog · 2 months ago

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UTKU ERDEM OZER (3)

Welcome to our comprehensive guide on the latest advancements in orthopedic services available at Utku Erdem Ozer's clinic. At the forefront of innovative treatment options, we specialize in addressing common yet complex musculoskeletal issues, including injuries related to the anterior cruciate ligament (ACL) and hip labrum tears. Our expert team is dedicated to providing personalized care tailored to meet your unique needs, whether you're facing a sports injury or considering hip replacement surgery.

Anterior Cruciate Ligament (ACL)

The Anterior Cruciate Ligament (ACL) is a critical structure in the knee that helps stabilize the joint during movements, particularly in sports. Injuries to the ACL can be debilitating, often requiring thorough evaluation and treatment to restore function and reduce pain.

Understanding the symptoms and treatment options for an ACL injury is paramount. Common signs include:

Sudden pain and swelling in the knee

A popping sound at the time of injury

Instability during activities, especially when pivoting or cutting

When it comes to treatment, options may vary based on the severity of the injury. For minor injuries, physical therapy and rehabilitation exercises can lead to recovery. However, more severe cases may require surgical intervention to reconstruct the ACL. This procedure often involves using grafts from the patient or a donor to replace the damaged ligament.

With advancements in surgical techniques and rehabilitation protocols, many patients experience a successful return to their pre-injury activities, including sports. It is essential to consult with a specialist to develop a personalized treatment plan that best suits your needs.

Don't let an Anterior Cruciate Ligament (ACL) injury hold you back. Seek professional advice and explore your options today to get back on track!

Hip Labrum Tear

A hip labrum tear is a common injury that can result from repetitive motions or traumatic incidents. This focused damage affects the fibrocartilage structure that surrounds the hip joint, leading to pain and reduced range of motion. If you are experiencing discomfort in your hip, particularly during activities such as walking, running, or twisting, it may be a sign of a hip labrum tear.

Symptoms often include a persistent ache in the hip or groin area, stiffness, and a sensation of catching or locking in the joint. These can significantly hinder daily activities and overall quality of life. Early diagnosis and treatment are crucial to preventing further joint damage. Specialists recommend various treatment options ranging from physical therapy to hip replacement surgery, depending on the severity of the tear.

At our facility, we prioritize a comprehensive approach to your recovery. Our experienced team utilizes cutting-edge diagnostic tools to accurately identify the injury and tailor a treatment plan specific to your needs. We understand that every patient is unique, and we are dedicated to providing individualized care.

If you're seeking relief from hip labrum tear or exploring how anterior cruciate ligament (ACL) issues may impact your recovery, don’t hesitate to contact us. Our commitment to your health ensures you receive the best possible outcome. Take the first step toward improved mobility and comfort today.

Hip Replacement Surgery

When it comes to addressing chronic hip pain or serious injuries, hip replacement surgery stands out as a transformative option. This procedure is designed to eliminate pain and restore mobility, significantly enhancing the quality of life for patients suffering from conditions such as osteoarthritis or severe hip labrum tears.

With advancements in medical technology, hip replacement surgeries have evolved, providing patients with options such as minimally invasive techniques. These approaches not only reduce recovery times but also lead to less scarring and a quicker return to daily activities, ensuring that you can get back on your feet sooner.

Furthermore, the materials used in hip prosthetics have seen remarkable improvements, offering superior durability and compatibility with the human body. This means that patients can expect longer-lasting results and a significantly reduced risk of complications, allowing for a more active lifestyle post-surgery.

Choosing to undergo hip replacement surgery is a significant decision, but when performed by experienced professionals, the results can be life-changing. If you’re considering this procedure, don’t hesitate to seek more information and discuss your options with a qualified healthcare provider.

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pigfacedbitch · 2 years ago

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Let's Break Up (II)

summary : you try to do the break up prank on your boyfriend.

word count : 0.5k

type : headcanons

pairing/s involved : Leo Valdez / Frank Zhang / Will Solace x Reader

warning/s : none

here is my masterlist! Part I is composed of Jason, Percy, and Nico.

Leo Valdez

"I don't love you anymore. I want to end this."

He will think it's joke but when the 'I'm kidding!' never comes, he tries not to make a big deal out of it.

Just chill and shrug like he was expecting it to happen.

"Oh well, if that's what you want."

He will overthink every situation where you acted suspicious; rejecting his affections, flirting with other guys— you know... signs of possible cheating or interest in other people?

Not that he doubts your loyalty but Leo's sense of inferiority can cloud his judgement; it's himself he is unsure of.

I'm not enough for her. There are better guys out there. I'm supposed to understand. Thoughts like that.

You better say it's a prank right away! Because once you let him go, he will probably cry and lock himself in Bunker 9.

You had to knock continuously on the metal door and sing like Anna in "Do You Wanna Buid A Snowman?" for Leo to get out.

"It's just a prank, love. I'm sorry."

He lets out quiet sobs when your eyes meet, but he's obviously relieved.

COMFORT HIM AND NEVER DO IT AGAIN.

Frank Zhang

"Listen, this relationship is not working out anymore. I want to break up."

Now, if you've watched the part in American Psycho where Patrick Batman breaks up with his fiancee then you'll be able to picture this.

Frank will cry, loudly at that. It will catch the attention of anyone nearby, embarassing you.

He won't hold back. No, no, no, my friend. There will be whining and any other loud noises any human in pain is possible of letting out.

Did you instantly think you are an idiot for doing this? Yes, sir! 😊😙

"Frank, quiet down!"

"Oh gods, (Y/N) doesn't love me anymore!"

"I do, it's just a prank!"

Stops immediately, dramatically wiping his tears with a smug look on his face. With your mouth agape, he walks away from you like an action star in a explosion movie scene.

"Next time you try to prank me, don't tell anyone beforehand!"

"...Damn it, Hazel!"

Will Solace

This lovely son of Apollo is always busy due to his medical duties in Camp Half Blood so he truly cherishes the short moments he gets to spend with you.

In other words? Don't fucking waste his time.

"Will, I think we should break up."

He had encountered many campers pretend sickness for various of reasons— wanting to escape cleaning duties, skip training, and many more.

He will see through your lie. He always does.

If you decided to pull this prank AFTER he got to rest from the infirmary, he will just give you the don't-try-me-bitch look.

If you picked BEFORE he got to rest, you're dead. Expect him to throw medical tools at you.

Don't worry, not sharp ones. Just the scabs, cotton balls, and such.

It can be annoying though, not mention the scolding Chiron will give you later for wasting inventory materials.

"Will, stop it!"

"Take it back!"

"Sorry, it was just a joke."

The man very tired, okay? Stop with the nonsense and just cuddle with him. The gods know he desperately needs it.

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beemochi-art · 3 months ago

Note

You also said that Ratchet is the way he is because of Sentinel Prime, can we get a bit more info on that pls?

Yah I can talk about Ratty! (Tw mentions of torture and religious abuse and other super cool and fun things.)

So ratchet was once a most talented medic in all of Iacon. The more he achieved the harder it was for patients to get helped by him. He mostly was reserved to help diplomats. But how often do they get hurt? I mean really.

So Ratchet was just sitting around letting his talents go to waist. He didn’t like that. Since Ratch had so much free time on his hands he left to go find people to help. For free. He went to Kaon and met Drift. He became pretty well know in the community, everyone was pretty protective of him. Drift one day got very injured in a fight, he need Ratchets full attention. While he was working he got a call from his medical center back in Iacon. Alpha trion had been injured and was in need of immediate medical treatment. Ratchet couldn’t just leave drift to die, once drift was stable ratchet rushed back to Iacon. Though Alpha trion could be saved the injury’s he sustained would be permanent, he was now really weak and transforming would be difficult. Ratchet had to admit to his crimes in front of a council. It was suggested he’d be terminated since he isn’t fit to do what he was made to.

Ratchet refused to apologize for helping people that needed it. No matter what they did to him.

But Sentinel had a different plan. Sentinel claimed that Primes could tame all on cybertron and the medic was no exception.

Ratchet wouldn’t brake. He could be beaten, humiliated and tortured but still he refused to apologize for falling for Drift or for helping the people that need it. Sentinel pulled his last tactic, one that works every time. He will leave this method as a last resort as a way to showing mercy. But Ratchet had enough warnings.

This when Sentinels used what is called a Spark marker. The device was a Quintesson tool and there is only one left. It looks simple enough but It is used as a violent form of branding. It is placed directly on the spark, once it is taken off the Spark it will leave a black triangle on the frame, it cannot be buffered out because the mark run so deep, it can only be covered. It causes horrible amounts of pain, possibly shortens their lifespan and blanks the processor, memories get jumbled and confusing, equaling hallucinations. Ratchet had dreams of Drift telling him to wake up. Or would see him standing behind Sentinel as the harm was inflicted. He’d call out to him.

After many times of this happening, Ratchet’s mind and soul broke at some point. Ratchet promised to be loyal and that he was sorry. Sentinel wasn’t convinced through. He asked if Ratchet would rather Drift be the one being marked then him. A broken and defeated Ratchet said yes, as long as it wasn’t done to him, they could do whatever they wanted to Drift. He said this thinking Drift was in the room with them, mocking and his pain. Ratchet hates Drift now and blames him for all of that, at least he thinks he does.

Ratchet isn’t the only one who had this done to have been marked before. Both Nightbird and Soundwave have the same thing but to different degrees. Ratchet though is by far the worse case.

But back to Ratchet….

He took ratchet with him on expeditions with the knights. Ratchet worked tirelessly to be a model servant. Sentinel would reward him in various ways that would help him, forget that mangy Drift. Unfortunately….

He may not act like it sometimes but he believes that they are gods among men. There is nothing a Prime could say or do wrong. Literally anything asked of him he would do. (Idk if any of you watch Steven universe but Ratchet is like Pearl is with the diamonds.)

All that torture he has endured (by the way still causes him mental, emotional and physical suffering.) he thinks he deserved and is better of for it.

Ratchet’s whole mindset has been rewritten. He’s more of a servant that just so happens to know how to be a medic. He’s serving Optimus now who makes his job of being the holier than thou mentally stable one, a lot harder. Ratchet has benefited more with Op because he can let go a little bit more. Plus Op doesn’t ask him to do things that are Humiliating or Cruel. He is treated like an equal, which it Ratchet, isn’t right.

#transformers #transformers au #ratchet #optimus prime #my art #asks #alpha trion #sentinel prime #Nightbird #soundwave

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innerfare · 8 months ago

Text

Eustass Kid Fluff // Angst Compilation

Summary: A compilation of Eustass Kid angst and fluff from my multi character posts (You're Wounded, Brushing Your Teeth Together, Flowers, Type of Date, You See His Cabin, Fighting and Making Up, Paradise, Nightmares, I Love You, You're Jealous).

Genre: Fluff // Angst

CW: None // SFW

———

You’re Wounded:

Lectures you on your fighting form, tears into you for taking any unnecessary risks, gets on your case about not seeking medical attention fast enough. Tells you to get some rest, sits at your bed side until you’re better, claims he’s not there for you and is just resting his own eyes.

Brushing Your Teeth Together:

Was always too ADHD to stand in front of the mirror for a full minute brushing his teeth, always ended up wandering around the ship while brushing and then forgetting to finish; only started staying put when you began joining him.

Flowers:

If it’s at the point where he’s buying flowers, this man is so far beyond pride he won’t flinch at purchasing a bundle of pink tulips, even if they clash with his outfit/aesthetic. He also presents you one night with a bouquet of metal flowers he made himself. He spent ages on it, but he really didn’t mean to. He intended to make one but got absorbed in his work and made an entire bundle of dainty little metal flowers. He’s oddly proud of himself for making something so delicate and would be crushed if you ever got rid of them.

Type of Date:

He’ll take you to a concert, best seats in the house. He would prefer rock, but he’ll go to any concert you want. Honestly has no qualms about pulling up to an Ariana Grande or Taylor Swift concert with you, won’t go so far as to learn the lyrics but will nod his head and dance with you because he doesn’t believe people should be ashamed of their music taste (that being said, he can’t help but be embarrassed by just how much he likes Olivia Rodrigo; Sour is punk rock and Brutal is his favorite song, no matter what Killer says). He’ll buy you two matching t-shirts, too.

You See His Cabin For The First Time:

It’s as messy and ostentatious as you’d expect, but he sheepishly tries to fold the leopard-print blanket crumpled on the bed and put some laundry in the hamper, though you quickly deduce he has no clue which clothes belong in the hamper and which go in his closet. It’s shocking to see him care what someone thinks. He has a pile of lipstick and nail polish on his desk and an impressive collection of weapons he’s stolen from various pirates; he could probably open a museum with all the weapons he has. Also has lots of tools he forgot were in there. TBH, he’s probably as shocked as you are by the state of his cabin because he spends most of his alone time in his workshop, anyway.

Fighting and Making Up:

Actually loves to fight, lives to butt heads. Has a notoriously bad temper, meaning the two of you often fight. Serious fights usually happen because his temper got him into trouble. The number of arguments you’ve had while you’re patching him up because he got in a nasty bar is unreal. Your argument always over something stupid, at least in his opinion. He usually ends up storming off and locking himself in his workshop because he doesn’t want to yell at you too much but he’s furious with you and still has a bunch of adrenaline flowering through his bloodstream from his last fight. Alternately, he’ll start fights with you when feels like you’re keeping something from him, even if it’s something small, because it drives him crazy and he thinks you should be an open book. He's not really the jealous type when it comes to physical stuff, but he does get upset when you seem to have an emotional or intellectual connection with someone else, and that can cause some arguments. Oh, and fights are most definitely foreplay, so you can conclude how the two of you make up.

Paradise 1:

Waking up to fresh powder blanketing the ground and jumping out of bed, barely getting your boots and one of his coats on before you’re outside, romping through the snow. Falling into a snow bank with your arms out, giggling as you make a snow angel, grinning even wider when he surprises you by laying down beside you and doing the same, letting his inner child show through for a brief moment.

Paradise 2:

Escaping the chaos of life and climbing a desolate hill, sharing a late afternoon snack as you stare up at the clouds and point out different shapes, saying, “that’s you,” when you see a funny one. Arguing over which one of you gets to be the dragon cloud, your argument turning into roughhousing and the two of you accidentally rolling down the hill, him laughing and kissing your cheek when he knows you’re okay and then starting the argument again.

Nightmares:

It’s never like it happened with his first love, Victoria. And it’s always some way new. You fall overboard during a storm and drown, Kid diving into the water to save you but sinking due to his devil fruit ability, Killer diving in to save him but leaving you to die. You get deathly ill and he enlists the help of his ally, Trafalgar Law, to save your life, but he betrays Kid and kills you. He gets captured by a crew of enemy pirates, and when the crew comes to save him, you get killed in the crossfire. The nightmares just keep coming like this, you dying because he couldn’t protect you or expected someone else to do it for him. And each time he wakes up, it is with a renewed certainty that the only way to keep you safe is to do it himself.

I Love You:

You say it first. You say it a couple of times, actually, before you ever hear it back. You’re sitting in his workshop watching him build something, and you just sort of blurt the words out. You swear Kid hesitates before picking up the next piece of metal, but he gives no real acknowledgment you uttered those three words. Knowing exactly the sort of man he is and not expecting to receive anything in return, just wanting him to know how you feel in the moment, you aren’t actually offended, but you are wondering if he didn’t hear you. So, the next day in his workshop, you say it again, once more receiving no response. The third time you say it to him, catching him while he’s painting his nails, you receive a grunt in response (Kid is a man of grunts, not a man of words). Only in the heat of battle do you hear it back. He catches you around the waist and picks you up, and you fight thinking it’s an enemy, only for him to say, “I love you,” in your ear before deflecting a canon ball headed straight for the two of you and then setting you on your feet like nothing happened. From that point forward, he’ll say it, but only at inopportune times.

You’re Jealous:

He doesn’t ever talk about his first love, Victoria. In fact, you didn’t even know she existed until Killer got drunk one night and began speaking of his dearly departed. What he didn’t mention was that Kid, too, had been in love with her. It only comes up the next night when you mention it to Wire, who mentions it was the death of his first love, Victoria, that put Kid on the war path and united the first four members of the Kid Pirates. Realizing Wire messed up, Heat chimes in to say, “he’d do the same for you.” But you’re not convinced, mainly because Kid never told you any of this. It tears you apart, leaves you tossing and turning for nights on end, until you finally burst into Kid’s workshop one night ranting about how he doesn’t trust you and holds you at arm’s length. “Heat says you’d do the same for me, but-” Kid cuts you off and says, “I wouldn’t do the same, I’d do worse. Much, much worse.” And from the wicked gleam in his eye, you’re inclined to believe him.

———

Hope you enjoyed it! If you want more, you can check out my masterlist here!

#one piece #one piece headcanons #one piece fluff #one piece angst #one piece x reader #eustass kid x reader #eustasscaptainkid #one piece eustass #eustass kid #kid x reader #Kidd x reader

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hayatheauthor · 4 months ago

Note

can you write some tips on writing amnesia for a character? <3

Note: thank you for your ask! I'm sorry for replying so late I took a break from Tumblr for a bit.

In this guide, I'll be covering a balance of information on amnesia and how to write it. Some topics I mention are the types of amnesia, how they impact characterization, and how to write a believable portrayal of memory loss. I hope this blog is to your liking anon.

Understanding Amnesia: Types & Realism

Amnesia is not a one-size-fits-all condition. There are many different types of amnesia and each has unique effects on a person’s ability to recall past events or form new memories. You should research the type of amnesia you're going to use in-depth before incorporating it into your writing, but here's a quick breakdown of the types:

Retrograde Amnesia – The inability to remember past events while still being able to form new memories. This is common after traumatic brain injuries.

Anterograde Amnesia – The inability to create new memories while retaining past ones. A well-known example is the film Memento, where the protagonist loses the ability to form new long-term memories.

Dissociative Amnesia – Memory loss resulting from psychological trauma rather than physical injury. In extreme cases, this can lead to fugue states, where a person travels or assumes a new identity with no memory of their past.

Selective Amnesia – The loss of specific memories, often linked to a traumatic event.

Transient Global Amnesia (TGA) – A rare, temporary condition where a person suddenly loses memory for a few hours or days before recovering.

Many fictional portrayals of amnesia tend to exaggerate its effects or resolve it in unrealistic ways. In real life, memory loss is rarely total, and individuals often retain habits, motor skills, and emotional reactions even if they don’t recall specific events.

Choosing the Right Type for Your Story

Amnesia can be used in various genres, from psychological thrillers to fantasy epics. It's often a plot device or opportunity for character development, so it's important you pick the right type of amnesia.

A thriller or mystery might use amnesia as a tool to conceal crucial information, allowing the protagonist to uncover the truth alongside the reader, in which case Selective Amnesia might be a good fit. A romance could explore the emotional toll of memory loss on relationships, where one partner remembers everything while the other has Retrograde Amnesia and forgets them.

If your story revolves around identity and self-discovery, dissociative amnesia or retrograde amnesia may serve the plot best. If you want to create suspense by limiting what the character can learn over time, anterograde amnesia can add significant tension.

Take some time to consider why your character needs to have amneisa, what you plan on achieving with it, and whether or not you want them to recall what they've forgotten.

Characterization & Emotional Impact

Amnesia isn’t just about forgetting—it fundamentally changes how a character interacts with the world. A character suffering from memory loss might experience:

Fear and paranoia – Who can they trust if they don’t even trust their own mind?

Grief and loss – The realization that they’ve forgotten people or parts of themselves can be devastating.

Frustration and helplessness – Simple tasks may feel overwhelming, and social interactions may be fraught with confusion.

A shift in personality – Without their past experiences shaping them, they might react to situations in unfamiliar ways.

Relationships also play a crucial role. Loved ones may struggle to reconnect, while old enemies may take advantage of gaps in memory. This emotional complexity adds depth to an amnesia storyline, making it more than just a convenient plot device.

Medical Insights on Amnesia

To write a realistic portrayal of amnesia, it’s essential to understand its medical and neurological foundations. Memory formation involves various brain structures, particularly the hippocampus, which plays a key role in storing long-term memories.

Causes of Amnesia

Head trauma (e.g., concussions, strokes, aneurysms)

Psychological trauma (dissociation due to extreme stress or PTSD)

Infections affecting the brain (e.g., encephalitis, meningitis)

Substance abuse (alcohol-induced blackouts, drug-related memory loss)

Neurological disorders (e.g., Alzheimer’s, epilepsy, brain tumors)

Memory Recovery & Treatment

While some cases of amnesia are reversible, others can cause permanent memory loss. Treatments often include:

Cognitive therapy to help the brain form new associations.

Medication for cases linked to neurological disorders.

Hypnosis or psychotherapy for trauma-induced memory loss.

Fiction often portrays amnesia as something that can be instantly cured by another head injury or a dramatic emotional revelation, but in reality, recovery is often slow and uncertain.

Writing Realistic Amnesia Symptoms

When crafting an amnesiac character, it’s crucial to depict their symptoms accurately. Some of the most common effects include:

Confusion and disorientation, particularly in familiar settings.

Difficulty recognizing close friends and family members.

Emotional reactions to people or places they don’t consciously remember.

Trouble forming new memories (in cases of anterograde amnesia).

Physical symptoms such as headaches, dizziness, or fatigue.

By integrating these symptoms into your character’s behavior, you create a more immersive and believable narrative.

Unraveling Memories

Memory recovery should feel natural rather than forced. Instead of a sudden, convenient realization, consider gradual memory restoration through:

Sensory triggers (smells, sounds, touch that evoke forgotten memories)

Therapeutic methods (therapy sessions, hypnosis, journaling)

Unreliable memories (false memories, altered recollections)

Emotional breakthroughs (re-experiencing an intense emotion tied to a memory)

It’s also worth deciding whether your character will ever fully regain their memories. Some narratives work better when the character must move forward without ever reclaiming their past self.

Common Pitfalls & How to Avoid Them

While amnesia can be a powerful narrative tool, it’s easy to fall into unrealistic portrayals. Here’s what to avoid:

Instant cures – Memory loss doesn’t resolve itself with a single emotional moment or another head injury.

Overly selective memory gaps – Forgetting only plot-relevant details makes amnesia feel contrived.

Ignoring emotional consequences – Memory loss isn’t just about lost facts; it’s about lost identity and relationships.

Lack of research – A poorly researched amnesia storyline can feel lazy and inauthentic.

By steering clear of these clichés, you can create a well-rounded and compelling narrative.

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blindbeta · 11 months ago

Note

Hello! I recently got into a ship where one of the characters is blind. I mostly write domestic fanfics and so I’d like to know: what are some items or tools that are common to see in a blind person’s living space? What are some things that their partner or daughter might help them with in their day-to-day life? Thank you!

Here is a post with ideas about making homes accessible.

Here is post I made with ideas for accessible cooking.

A lot of YouTubers, such as those listed here, post about making their homes accessible or ideas they would like to implement. Molly Burke and Sam from TheBlindLife have several videos on this topic.

Claire at canseecantsee is on YouTube and TikTok. She posts often about how she does household and work tasks.

If your story is not modern, here is an example of finding assistance devices to use that work for your story’s time period. You can read it here.

Here are two asks about partners and romance: one and two.

Ideas that are common in a blind person’s living space might include:

-different types of labels

-a cane or guide animal, with a cane often hanging somewhere, in a bag the character uses daily, or resting against a wall by the door

-eye drops or other medication for their eye condition, potential eye strain, or tangentially related pain management

-ice and heating packs for eye strain

-a slate and stylus

-perhaps items such as a Braille display, computer, phone, scanner, or magnification device for reading

-perhaps Braille or large print books, particularly if this person is an elder or a young student, with the caveat that Braille literacy is declining and Braille books also take up a lot of space and so are not as popular

-talking or tactile devices

-bump dots, such as for microwaves

-tactile items, such as figures, tactile art, textured elements, or comfort items like stuffed animals. While this does not only apply to blind folks, we do tend to engage with touch more often and our comfort items and decorative items reflect this

-various lighting devices

-glasses or sunglasses

Depending on your character, you can justify almost anything in their home even if it is not common. For example, a person who plays goal ball or blind football might have a room strewn about with uniforms, shoes, bandages, medication, and sports equipment if needed. In another example, an elderly blind person might continue to use a tape player with books on tape for nostalgia purposes.

Those are some ideas. I hope this helps.

#blind #blind characters #writing blind characters #accessibility #accessible housing

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marlynnofmany · 10 months ago

Text

Confidential Human Questions

I was walking past the door to the cockpit quietly because I heard Captain Sunlight on a video call with a client, but then I heard, “Was that a human? Call them back; I have a question.”

This ought to be good, I thought as I spun on my heel.

Captain Sunlight was just calling my name as I reached the doorway. “Ah yes, thank you. Would you mind answering a human-related question?” She stood in the middle of the room, yellow scales bright in the good lighting. She managed to look up to my height without making it seem awkward.

“Sure,” I said. “What’s the question?” I stayed in the doorway. The room was a little crowded, with Wio in one pilot’s chair, tentacles manipulating many controls at once, and Kavlae doing something to fix her own chair with a hand tool. Judging by the way her head frills were flaring with frustration, she wasn’t done yet.

The client on the big screen curled his own tentacles. “I’m concerned about my ship’s human,” he said, turning his pointy squid head to make sure he wasn’t overheard. He lowered his voice and spoke closely to the screen. “We only have the one, you see, and I don’t want to ask any awkward questions directly.”

“I understand,” I said with a nod. Captain Sunlight ushered me into the room, then stepped out to talk to Zhee about something. I heard the distinctive click of his bug feet.

The client was still talking, with agitated twists of his pebbly gray tentacles. “We don’t have a medic onboard, just an automated medical suite. The human will be going home soon — limited time work contract, you know — but I’m honestly worried about infection spreading there, since I think this human caught it by meeting up with another. I gather that this other is on good terms with ours, and may be going to the same place either way, but I don’t want to contribute any contagion from my ship.”

“What kind of symptoms are we talking about?” I asked, mentally going over the short list of diseases that I knew of which could jump between species. This might be worth consulting our own medic. “No one else onboard is affected?”

“No, just the human,” he said, making vague loops with his tentacles. “There’s a malignant-looking growth, along with fatigue and gastrointestinal distress. The human has been acting a little… unpredictable.” He looked behind himself again. “I very much don’t want to cause an incident by prying, especially if this is something she knows to be terminal.”

I opened my mouth then closed it, choosing my questions with care. “Is the growth about here?” I pantomimed a roundness at my own stomach. “How long since she met with the other human?”

“Yes, exactly there! It’s been approximately half a standard orbit. What is it? Do you know?”

He was so sincere and worried that I had to smile. “Good news! In my opinion as a professional human, that’s not a disease at all. Your human is going to be a parent.”

Instead of relaxing, he looked confused. “Humans gestate eggs for that long? Shouldn’t she have laid them by now? She looks awfully uncomfortable. Oh no, are they stuck?” Now he was getting alarmed. “I had a relative who got eggbound once, and it was dire!”

I raised my hands in a calming gesture that I hoped he understood. “No, no eggs. Humans give live birth.”

“Live what?”

“Just — we lay the babies, already hatched.” I looked to my various crewmates for support, and found four different sets of eyes watching in curiosity. “All of you lay eggs, don’t you?”

Several nods answered me, along with, “Well not personally,” from Zhee. “But yes.”

I sighed and turned back to the screen. “It’s extremely normal on my planet. Just think of it as carrying the nest around internally. There are pros and cons to the whole thing, but yeah. At any rate, it sounds like she’s planning to join up with her mate at home, and raise their offspring together.”

The client looked fascinated. “Is there anything I should do? Or not do? I can make sure my crew is informed.”

“I understand it’s an uncomfortable process. Just be gentle, and encourage rest,” I said. “Oh, and have other crewmembers handle anything that involves bending over or moving heavy things.”

By the swift tentacle motions offscreen, he was typing notes.

Another thought occurred to me. “I don’t know how long until you reach her home, but if things take too long, you’d better hope your medical suite is up to overseeing a childbirth. They’re very painful, sometimes dangerous. And messy.”

He stopped typing, eyes wide. “I need to check with someone about changing our schedule. Thank you, goodbye!” The screen went blank.

I looked to the captain. “Were you done talking with him, I hope?”

She nodded. “Yes, business is concluded. Which is good, since I don’t fancy having to track him down because he forgot to pay us.”

“Yeah, me neither,” I said with a glance back at the screen. “I didn’t even get to tell him how loud human newborns are, or how often they cry. I doubt there’s a crib onboard.”

Zhee made a disparaging hiss and wandered off in a cloud of opinions about species without the good sense to hatch at a properly capable stage of development.

Wio snorted. “Judging by the speed they just took off at, I don’t think they’re going to need one.” She pointed a blue-ringed tentacle at a display that showed the other ship departing in an all-fired hurry.

I shook my head. “Best of luck to all involved!”

~~~

These are the ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book.

Shared early on Patreon! There’s even a free tier to get them on the same day as the rest of the world.

The sequel novel is in progress (and will include characters from these stories. I hadn’t thought all of them up when I wrote the first book, but they’re too much fun to leave out of the second).

#my writing #The Token Human #humans are weird #haso #hfy #eiad #humans are space orcs #writeblr #writblr

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dustmusings · 9 months ago

Text

we never quite made it

Tech x F!Reader

word count: 10k

description: after first meeting on kamino, you and tech seem to keep running into each other, without being able to fully indulge in each other's company. will you ever find the time to be able to tell each other of the feelings that have bloomed over the years?

warnings: not a happy ending!! death, torture (not in any great detail), blood & needles, some mentions of other medical stuff, tech brainrot I fear, don't wanna spoil it but... cx-2...

a/n: okay this was originally just gonna be a cute little fluffy thing and then I kinda went over board. it's a little more high-concept (which feels like a generous word for it) than my other oneshots but i'm pretty happy with how it turned out :) also anyone who writes tech fics regularly I salute you 🫡 it is truly not for the weak

22BBY, KAMINO

You waited patiently in the medical bay, lining up your various tools so none of them were out of place. You weren’t necessarily a neat freak, it was just something to occupy your hands. You were about to see your first patient since transferring from the hospital on Coruscant, to Kamino, in an effort to help the war effort.

The other medics around you weren’t new, and seemed a lot more relaxed, and sure of themselves. You had faith in your abilities as a medic, you had graduated from university into the job a number of years ago now, but somehow this felt like a lot more responsibility, looking after the men that fought for the Republic.

Your fingers were fidgeting at your sides when the door to the medical bay slid open, and a large group of clones were ushered inside by a Kaminoan. You were at the back of the room, so the clones from the front of the group were shown to the medics closest to them. As the group parted, you could see there were a group of clones in vastly different armour from their brothers, and your interest was certainly piqued.

You watched with intrigue as they got closer to you, and before you knew it, one of them was standing in front of you. You still felt nervous, but the timid look on the youthful face of this clone was enough to snap you into gear.

“Hello” You smiled at him sweetly, gesturing to the cot next to you, “Do you want to take a seat?”

The clone didn’t say anything, but obliged quickly. He was taller than many of the clones you worked on before, his hair a light auburn, and he wore goggles that were tinted a subtle yellow.

“What’s your name?” You asked politely.

“CT-9902, Ma’am”

The nervousness was evident in his voice, which you noted was different from the other clones, a more formal twinge and bite to the vowels.

“No need for all that Trooper, just my name is fine” You chuckled a little, tapping the name badge on your uniform, “and I asked for your name. What do your brothers call you?”

The clone looked to the name badge and then up to your eyes, “Tech”

“Well Tech, I understand that this is your last check-up before you graduate, is that right?”

“Uh, technically, we have already graduated. We are waiting to be deployed” He corrected you and you nodded.

”I understand” You smiled, “I’m just going to take some of your blood, if that’s okay”

“Of course it’s okay” He said matter-of-factly, “I wouldn’t expect anything less”

You had to suppress a smirk at his observation as you took the syringe from the tray, “It’s just what they ask us to say, bedside manner and all that”

“Ah” He replied, a blush tinging his ears pink, “My apologies”

It was hard not to find Tech adorable. He was so young and fresh-faced, somehow more so than the other recently graduated clones around the room. Perhaps it was the difference in facial structure, slightly pursed lips, or the big brown eyes that looked up at you though his goggles.

“No need” You waved off his apology, “It’s nice not to have to baby your patients really”

Tech nodded thoughtfully, and took of his left vambrace to allow you access to the correct vein, rolling up his sleeve. You raised an eyebrow at his actions.

“You had a lot of blood taken before?” You asked, and he looked at you puzzled.

“No” He replied simply, “Why?”

“I didn’t have to tell you where I was going to take it from” You gestured the syringe towards his now bare forearm.

“Ah, well” He looked down at himself and back up, “I am… a little knowledgeable about such things”

You smirked a little as you took his arm, keeping him talking while you placed the needle to his skin, “Knowledgeable huh? and why is that?”

He looked up at your face as you worked, wholly uninterested in the needle that was pressing into his arm, “I am interested in knowing about it”

You hummed slightly in reply, drawing the blood from the clone and placing the syringe down again.

“Just a few more things to check” You said, taking the small torch from your belt, “Would you mind taking off your goggles for just a moment?”

The clone didn’t hesitate, and pushed his goggles atop his head.

“Now, look straight ahead” You told him, and shined the light into his eye, checking to see if his pupils were dilating properly. At some point his eyes flicked up to yours, and you were surprised by the flurry of butterflies that filled your stomach. “Eyes ahead, Tech” You reminded him, and he righted himself straight away. You had to bite back your grin at his certainly interesting demeanour.

As you moved onto his other eye, you let your curiosity get the best of you, “If you don’t mind me asking, why are you and your brothers… a little different?”

“I do mind you asking actually” He said plainly, and you were unsure if you had actually upset him, if he was kidding, or if that was just how he spoke.

“Okay” You smiled graciously, choosing to just move on, “You can put your goggles back on now”

Tech watched you carefully as he pulled down and adjusted his goggles until they were comfortable again. With your pleasant smile, it seemed that you were just being sincere and inquisitive in asking about him and his brothers, and he felt a little silly for just brushing you off.

“We usually get seen by the Kaminoans” Tech noted, “Why are there civilian medics on Kamino now?”

“We volunteered” You shrugged with a small smile, “Could you lie down?”

Tech once again did as you said quickly, a little too quickly this time, hitting the back of his head on the cot that was not as comfortable as he had thought. You winced a little and his cheeks flushed immediately.

”Good thing I’m about to scan you” You joked, “Hopefully that didn’t do any damage”

Tech pointed his first finger up as he talked, “It is highly unlikely that I would sustain any dam-”

“I know Tech, I was just kidding” You interrupted, and he stuttered as he looked up at you standing over him with a gentle smile

“Right” He nodded, “Of course you do, my apologies”

”There’s no need to apologise” You smiled, pulling down the scanner over him “Stay still now”

You stepped back from the machine and picked up your datapad, reading over the information as the scanner picked it up. It scanned his identifying code in his wrist and your eyebrows raised at his profile. Defective, genetically enhanced intellect and cognitive functions.

“Is something wrong?” He questioned your reaction.

“No, you’re in perfect health in fact” You answered his question, pulling the machine away so he could sit up.

“What is the… matter, then?” He asked slightly hesitantly.

“The machine scanned your identifying code” You explained, unable to hold back your grin, “You sound like a very interesting individual indeed, Tech”

Tech blushed furiously, looking away and noting that his brothers were already finished with their examinations, huddled together watching him with the widest grins he had ever seen from them. He only blushed further upon seeing them, scowling and turning back to you. You just watched him with a look of vague amusement on your face.

“Well, you’re all good to go now” You informed him, and he stood quickly, accidently knocking the elbow of his armour against your hip.

He was mortified. “I am so very sorry” He spoke hurriedly, turning back towards you with wide eyes, gently holding onto your arm without even realising.

“It’s really alright” You replied with a chuckle, though it was a little strained.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you, that is the last thing I would mean to do” He continued, and you couldn’t help but find his reaction so effortlessly charming

“I like the way you speak, Tech” You smiled, genuine happiness just taking over your face.

Tech didn’t think it was possible for his face to heat up even more, but he had to clutch at the edge of his blacks and pull them away from his neck so it didn’t feel like he was over heating. He didn’t know what to say at all. He couldn’t think of the last time he had ever been complimented by someone, let alone someone as pretty as you. He willed himself to get a grip, knowing he was just giving in to his body in allowing those kind of thoughts to fester, and he cleared his throat.

“Well, it was a pleasure to meet you” He added your name with an emphasis, as if it was to help him remember it, “If I weren’t about to leave I would ask you to explain the functionality of this machine you’ve just used on me”

“Maybe another time?”

Tech nodded, “Another time”

“Goodbye Tech” You smiled at him warmly, “It was a pleasure to meet you too”

Tech nodded and turned to leave, making a beeline for his brothers, who welcomed him by teasing him mercilessly, the largest of the bunch ruffling his auburn curls. You watched them leave, and caught Tech looking back at you as he exited the room.

21BBY, KAMINO

“New orders”

Before you could realise, a datapad was being thrown at you. Luckily you got your hands around it before it dropped to the floor. You looked over the screen, then up at the other medic.

“We're not trained for that” You implored.

“The GAR is running low on medics, they asked for some of us to fill the roles for now” They replied with a shrug, “It's probably more interesting than being here anyway”

You could agree with that.

“What squad are you with?” The other medic asked, and you looked back down, tapping on your name.

“Clone Force 99” You informed them. The name rung a bell from somewhere…

“Never heard of them” The medic replied, “Guess you'll find out tomorrow”

Having stayed up late investigating the group of clones you were instructed to be joining, it was no wonder that you were bouncing on your toes with a beaming smile as their ship came hurtling into the hangar. You were impressed by their success rate, not falling short of perfect, but it was from realising exactly who was a part of this team that made you so eager.

You would be lying to say you hadn't thought of Tech a few times since first meeting him. With him being your first patient here on Kamino, it was hard not to compare the other clones to him, and while you had no issue with the other clones, you had not enjoyed your time with them as much as that first encounter.

The ship was set down on the ground, and soon the small batch of clones emerged from inside, looking particularly disinterested, and your smile faltered. They huddled together outside, talking amongst themselves, some of them leaning on the side of the ship.

You walked over slowly, feeling a little more hesitant than you had initially been. You couldn't see Tech, as he was behind his brothers, but you recognised the rest of them by their differing appearances.

You cleared your throat, gaining the attention of the clones, and offering them a small smile. They turned to look at you, apart from Tech who's face was buried in a datapad.

“Hello, I think I've been assigned to your squad” You spoke, and that's when Tech's head snapped up, his eyes meeting yours.

He looked a bit older than the last time you had seen him. His face seemed slimmer, his cheekbones slightly more hollowed out and defined, his jaw strong, but his widened eyes had the memorable sparkle in them all the same.

“We don't need you here” One of the others said, earning a elbow in the ribs as you looked up at him.

“Shut up Cross” The elbow-er hissed quietly at the elbow-ee, “Ignore him, it's nice to meet you…”

You told the man your name.

“Well, I'm Hunter” He introduced himself, and you gave him a nod of acknowledgement.

Crosshair rolled his eyes, “Why are we being made to have a medic?”

“I'm not sure” You shrugged, “I wasn't really told all too much about it”

Crosshair seemed almost pleased that you were just in the dark as them, then grunted, pushing his way past you and onto the ship.

Hunter huffed, noting your slightly offended expression, “Sorry about Crosshair, he's in a mood. We just weren't… expecting this, is all”

You chewed the inside of your cheek, “Me neither”

“Well anyway, let's get going” He walked up the ship's steps.

“I'm Wrecker” The large clone introduced himself with a warm smile, which you were inclined to return.

You held out your hand to him, and he took it with a crushing strength. “Nice to meet you… Wrecker” You managed to peep out despite the force of his grip.

Wrecker followed his commanding officer up the stairs afterwards, and you were about to follow after, but realised Tech was still stood firmly in his place. You looked back at him and he was still staring at you.

“You coming Tech?”

His eyes went a little wider.

“You know who I am?” He said, his voice holding a clear tone of surprise, though it was nowhere near as timid as it had been the last time you saw him.

Your cheeks flushed a little, embarrassed that he had clearly made more of an impression on you than you had on him.

“Oh, you don't remember meeting?” You asked, keeping your voice even.

“No, no, I remember” He confirmed, “I just didn't think you would remember me”

You gave him a puzzled look, a smile growing on your face, “Of course I remember you”

“Can you two wrap it up, we're leaving” Crosshair shouted from inside, and you chuckled slightly nervously, walking up the ramp.

Tech was still frozen in place for a moment. He hadn't been excited to be getting a medic, having ample training and knowledge of the subject himself, but now, he couldn't help but feel a little exhilarated that it was you that would be joining them.

The few times that the squad had been back to Kamino since graduation, Tech had found himself wandering down to the medical bay. He hadn't talked to you, he was far too nervous to do that, but he had watched you work through the little window in the door. You had almost caught him one time, and that's when he decided to stop doing it, realising how strange he was behaving.

He walked up the stairs of the Marauder, a little on edge, a little nervous, but a little more happy than he had been when they landed.

21BBY, MARAUDER

Tech was staring. At you, to be specific. Once again.

His brain worked at a klick a minute, and yet, whatever you had just said to him had him stumped. His mouth hung open a little, his eyes slightly narrowed and his brow furrowed deeply. He wasn't saying anything. For once, nothing was going on in his head. It was like his brain had frozen, unable to process any new thoughts. He was confused.

“Tech?” You said hesitantly, drawing him from his stupor.

“I'm sorry, I don't think I heard you correctly” He replied assuredly.

You hesitated a little before asking again, “I asked you if you think I should leave”

That's what he thought you'd said.

“I don’t understand your meaning” He dropped the tool from his hand and stood up, facing you and trying to read every movement you made.

You felt a little uneasy under his scrutiny, but continued nonetheless, “Like… leave the team”

Tech still couldn't understand.

“Why are you asking me this?” He asked, his brow furrowing even deeper.

“Well, I figured you would give me an honest answer” You shrugged. Tech was nothing if not upfront, and it was one of the many things you liked about him.

“No, I mean… why are you asking this at all?” He surveyed your reaction to his words, your throat constricting as you swallowed and subtly wiped you hands on your trousers.

“Uh… I suppose I don't feel that my presence is very necessary”

“I don't see how you could possibly think that” Tech replied, “You have a very useful skillset”

“Well, I know that Hunter doesn't exactly love having me around, and Crosshair even less so” You argued, “And my ‘useful skillset’ hardly gets used around here”

Tech didn't know what to say. There was something nagging at him from the depths of his consciousness, urging him to tell you to stay. He found you exceedingly interesting, and enjoyed hearing about your medical exploits from before joining their squad. He always asked under the guise of learning new information, but his brothers all understood, far more than him, that it wasn't just knowledge that kept him asking you questions.

At this point, you had been with the Bad Batch for a few months, and - as you were explaining to Tech - you had not felt very useful at all. They rarely got injured, but even when they did, they would mostly refuse your help. Particularly Hunter. Crosshair had not warmed to you at all, though Wrecker did seem to enjoy your company. Tech was kind, in his own way. He always listened to you attentively, and as both of you were reasonably light sleepers, you had often found yourselves staying up together between missions, talking about a great many things. He seemed interested to know about medical procedures, but expanding his knowledge was only making you more and more obsolete within the group.

“I'm sorry if we've made you feel unwelcome” He said, and your gaze softened a little.

“It's okay, I know none of you really wanted me here in the first place”

“That’s…” Tech tried to find the words, “I would not say that is entirely factual. Though if you would like to leave, I think you should”

You couldn’t help but feel a little disheartened by Tech’s words, but you did come to him for the truth after all, you couldn’t be mad now.

“Alright, I'll notify the medical team back on Kamino then”

You walked away from Tech, and his brain began working, screaming at him to ask you to stay. He pressed his lips into a hard line, trying to come up with something, anything that he could say to make you stay, but all of the possibilities floating around in his head were jumbled and he couldn’t make sense of anything. He shook his head, trying to focus himself, but you had already walked away, already set on leaving.

“Get away from me”

You were crouched over Crosshair’s crumpled form, who was bent over and holding the wound to his side in the co-pilot's chair of the Marauder.

“Crosshair, I'm only trying to help” You insisted, trying to tend to him.

“I don't need your kriffing help, back off” He hissed, snatching the medkit from you.

You sighed deeply, taking a step back, “You know this is the reason I'm here right? To help when things like this happen?”

“We don't need you!” He shouted, “We never wanted you here, and we certainly don't now”

“Crosshair, calm down” Hunter scolded lightly, and when you turned to him you could see the look on his face, where you knew he agreed with his brother but was holding his tongue.

“Well good for you, I'll be gone soon” You mumbled as you stormed away, your eyes welling up instinctively from someone raising their voice at you.

You felt entirely useless.

You became a medic because you wanted to help people, and you joined the GAR medic team because you wanted to help clones specifically, but here you were, surrounded by clones, and they didnt want your help. It was hard not to feel downcast about it.

You understood Crosshair's contempt to a certain level, but did he really have to be so mean?

Tech could hear your soft sobs from outside the door to the cargo hold. He knocked firmly, and heard you sniff before telling him to enter.

When he saw the rosy tint of your nose and cheeks and the tears running down them, he realised that he had no idea how to comfort you in this moment. He stared at you as you stared up at him, waiting for him to say something.

“I'm sorry” He said unsurely, and you gave him a sad smile.

“It's fine Tech”

“I don't really think it is ‘fine’. I am very unimpressed with the way my brothers have behaved towards you” He asserted.

Looking down at you, your knees tucked into your chest and biting into your bottom lip to stop it quivering, he was reminded that he really didn't want you to leave, and even further, he realised the true reason why. He finally mustered up the courage to ask you to stay.

“I know that you're not happy at the moment, being with this team. I… I wish it were different, I wish we could have made you more comfortable. I am sure that if you stayed for a little longer and I talked to my brothers that-”

“I've heard from Kamino already, they want me back” You said softly, cutting him off before he could even say it.

“Ah, I see” He paused, then turned away “I shall leave you to-”

“Tech”

He turned back to you, and you offered him a soft, genuine smile, “I appreciate it, thank you”

He just nodded to you and left, the nasty feeling of rejection gnawing at his brain.

As the Marauder touched down in the hangar on Kamino, there was the most unpleasant sensation stirring in your gut. This was the right choice, you didn't fit in here, and you wanted to actually make a difference. Despite knowing all this, you couldn't help but feel strange, and descending the ship’s stairs felt like regressing, going backwards instead of forwards.

You turned to look at the clones as you left. Each of them, apart from Crosshair, gave a nod and a goodbye and walked back inside. Aside from Tech, of course.

He followed you down the steps, and it was the look on his face that placed that feeling in your gut. It was the reluctancy to leave behind this man that you had grown so fond of over the past few months, this man who listened to you and made you feel wanted despite the rest of the squad's insistency to not.

It had only been a few months, but you realised that you had grown very close with the clone before you, and your heart ached. You realised the depth of the feelings you harboured for him, that it was something you had never felt for another.

“I'll miss you Tech, it's been nice getting to know you” You spoke honestly, realising this could be the last time you saw him.

Tech sighed almost imperceptibly, “I agree, I shall miss… learning about medical procedures from you”

You couldn't help but laugh, “Well next time you're on Kamino, swing by the medical bay and I'll be happy to answer your questions”

“Are you making fun of me?” Tech suddenly resembled the shy cadet that you had met the first time.

“No” You smiled, “I'd always be happy to talk to you”

Tech didn't know what the correct thing to say was, so he said nothing. He just stared at you, once again, his mind fighting for anything to say once more. There was nobody that could send his mind spiralling like you did, and it seemed that you didn't even try to.

You smiled despite his slightly awkward silence, and stepped forwards, raising to your toes to plant a soft kiss to his cheek, “Goodbye Tech”

Tech could feel his face burning, from the blush that overtook him, and the feeling of your lips searing into his skin, rendering him completely speechless. As you walked away, he brought a hand to his face where you had kissed him and traced the area with his finger lightly.

“Ugh, I'm going to throw up” Crosshair asserted from the doorway of the ship.

“Shhhh” Wrecker pushed him and watched Tech swoon over you with a large grin.

Tech paid them no mind. He just watched you leave, a mix of emotions overtaking him. A frown settled on his face as your figure disappeared into the facility, but the feel of your lips on his cheek brought a warm feeling to his chest.

19BBY, ANAXES

“Hey Baar'ur'ika!” You heard the unmistakable voice of Jesse call out to you as he jogged over to the medbay in the Anaxes base.

“He doesn't call me that you know” Kix asserted from beside you, and you chuckled.

“Do you want him to?” You asked earnestly, but with an amused twinkle in your eye.

“That's besides the point" He grumbled, earning another laugh from you.

“Me and Kix are being sent on a mission with the Captain” Jesse said as he came to a stop in front of you.

“We are?” Kix asked

Jesse nodded, “Some special squad is joining us apparently”

“Special?”

“Yeah, I'm not sure why though, you wanna come find out?” He grinned, gesturing his head towards the landing strip.

“Can't. I've got all these reports to sign off” You sighed, holding up your stack of flimsi.

“Alright, we'll see you later on then Baar'ur'ika” Jesse smiled, ruffling your hair.

You huffed, putting the lose strands of it back into place, “See you later”

You took up your stylus again, clicking it absentmindedly as you read over the reports.

You had been reassigned to the 501st only a few weeks after leaving clone force 99, and you fit in so much better here. It seemed that the clones of the 501st actually wanted to get along with you, and they always included you in their shenanigans, reluctantly on your end. You got along with all of them really well, but Kix and Jesse were the ones you were closest with. You worked most closely with Kix, so that was only natural, but Jesse was certainly the most friendly to you from the outset.

You came across a report with an error, and checked the next piece of flimsi, and the same error had been made. You then leafed through all of the pages and realised the error had been made on every single one of them, and you groaned loudly. It then occurred to you that maybe you were the one making the error, and so you grabbed the stack of pages, rushing out the door to try and grab Kix before he left for his mission.

Luckily when you got to the landing strip, him and Jesse were still standing there with the Captain. You rushed over to them, almost dropping a page on the way.

“Kix, can I just ask you about something” You spoke, and the huddle of clones turned to look at you.

“Ah Baar'ur'ika, you came to investigate after all” Jesse slung an arm around your shoulders with a grin.

“I didn't come to investigate, I-”

Your voice seemingly stopped working as you turned your head and locked eyes with the specific ones that had always managed to draw you in and leave you speechless. Those wonderful brown eyes that always widened when they met yours

“Tech” You couldn't hold back the smile that grew on your face.

Tech spoke your name, and Jesse stifled a laugh when he felt a shiver run up your back.

You were absolutely mesmerised by the man in front of you. It had been just over a year since you had seen him, and in that time it seemed that he had only got even more beautiful. Your heart felt as if it had been set alight, the emotions that accompanied seeing Tech returning as if you had only said goodbye to him yesterday.

“We're here too” Wrecker laughed, snapping your gaze away from the spectacled clone.

“Hey Wrecker” You grinned, and he gave you a wink in return.

“Hey Hunter, Crosshair” You addressed the last two clones.

“Hey, it's good to see you” Hunter replied, a small genuine smile directed towards you.

Crosshair didn't say anything, but you hadn't expected him to.

“You know these guys?” Jesse asked, squeezing your shoulder.

“Uh, yeah. I was with them for a little while” You replied, looking to the floor for a moment before realising why you were here. “Oh! Kix, I just need to ask about this”

Tech watched you talking with the other medic and flipping through the pieces of flimsi as everyone else fell back into their previous conversation. His eyes lingered on the arm slung around your shoulders, and the way you placed your own hand on the shoulder of the other clone. You were clearly comfortable around these clones, and Tech's jealousy fizzled away to a form of sadness as he realised that you were so much happier with these clones than you had been with them. With him.

You settled the matter with Kix, and turned towards Tech once more, stepping forward so you stood in front of him.

“How are you?” You asked, clasping your hands behind your back.

“I am well” Tech replied flatly, not giving away an inch of the emotions that swirled within him, “How about yourself?”

“I'm good yeah” You smiled, “I've been here for a few rotations”

“With the 501st?” Tech asked.

“Oh no, just on Anaxes, I've been with these guys since… well, a couple weeks after I left you”

Something about the sentence pulled at Tech's heart. These clones were so lucky. They had got to spend all of this time by your side, all this time that he had spent with you only as a memory in his head, your absence taunting him constantly.

“I- Uh- I am glad to see you are doing well, you seem… happier, than last I saw you” He observed, pulling a small laugh from you.

“Maybe a bit. I do miss having someone to rant to though” You smirked a little at him, and despite his heated cheeks, he returned the gesture.

“I don't know that I'd call it ‘ranting’, you were always very precise with your words, very… intentional” He complimented you in a way that only made sense to both of you.

You hummed in response, “Well how's this for intentional - I've missed you Tech”

Tech couldn't hold back the small contented sigh that escaped him.

“I have missed you too” He admitted, indulging in losing himself in your eyes, inspecting ever fleck of colour.

“Hey Tech! We've gotta get going” Hunter shouted over to him. Neither one if you had realised the others had moved away.

Tech scowled inwardly, turning his attention back to you, “I was… I should like to ask you about biopsy methods, I am unsure of safe practice”

“Maybe another time?” You asked hopefully.

He nodded, a small smile quirking the edges of his lips, “Another time”

In a bout of confidence and rising adrenaline, Tech found himself leaning down and pressing a short kiss to your cheek, as you had done to him last time. Your mouth hung open a little as he then immediately walked off and joined his brothers on the gunship, surprised that he had actually done such a thing.

“Bye Baar'ur'ika” Jesse called teasingly, and you were snapped from your daze.

“Bye di'kut” You called, rolling your eyes as you clutched your flimsi close to your chest.

Tech's eyes locked with yours as the doors to the gunship closed, and it made your chest ache. You could still feel the warmth of his breath, the gentle scratch of his stubble, the softness of his lips. It was all too much and not enough, and watching him leave hurt more than you thought it would.

18BBY, CORUSCANT

You sat at your makeshift desk, your head in your hand and flicking through your datapad to survey the latest news. Things certainly had become bleak since the rise of the Empire.

You heard your name called, and your head snapped up to meet the golden eyes of Senator Chuchi.

“Senator, what can I do for you?” You asked, sitting up straight.

“Please, it's Riyo, and it's more what I can do for you” She said with a small smirk lifting the edges of her lips.

“Oh” You said, your eyebrows drawing together in confusion, “What do you mean?”

“There's a new clone joining us, I believe you know him” She replied, her smirk growing.

You immediately stood from your seat, “Is it who I think it is?”

“Perhaps” The Senator shrugged coyly.

You couldn't hold back your grin, “Where is he?”

“Just in the hangar” She nodded in the direction.

“Thank you Sen- Riyo” You said quickly, rushing from behind your desk towards the hangar.

You had known that Echo was alive, but this was the first time you would actually be seeing him since before the mission to the citadel where he had been presumed dead, and boy was he a sight for sore eyes.

“Echo!” You exclaimed excitedly, drawing the attention of the clone as you ran towards him across the hangar.

The clone's eyes lit up as he took in the sight of you, and stepped forwards, taking you in a tight hug when you crashed into him.

“It's good to see you” He said with a smile as he pulled away.

“It's even better to see you” You grinned, “I was so upset I didn't get to see you after you were rescued”

“I heard” He smirked, looking over his shoulder at Rex.

You looked over at the blonde clone too, and saw that he was watching on with three other familiar clones.

“Woah” You couldn't stop yourself from saying, “I heard you were hanging around with this lot nowadays”

Once your eyes found Tech, you couldn't bring yourself to look away. He seemed to be hanging back a bit, his eyes once again a little wide behind his goggles.

“Hey!” Wrecker said excitedly, earning a small laugh from you.

“Hey Wrecker, hey Hunter” You smiled at the clones.

“Hi” The Sergeant smiled at you.

Wrecker then pushed Tech forwards, and you smirked a little as he glared at his larger brother.

“Hey Tech, how's it going?” You asked, and he brought his eyes back to you.

In a way he couldn't define, you seemed more mature than when he had last saw you. Perhaps it was the tiredness he saw in your eyes, or perhaps it was the few small scars that adorned your skin, clearly earned in battle. The thought of you sustaining injuries made his stomach lurch, so he tried not to think of it.

The way you were looking at him was so familiar. Your smile was kind and easy, gracing your features in a way that was so uniquely you. The light crinkle around your eyes and lips, the small glint in your eye, the way one side of your mouth was more contorted than the other. Tech was certainly glad to see you.

“Uh… it is going well” Tech replied unsurely after a moment, and you smirked a little bit at his answer.

It was intoxicating to be in Tech's presence once more. Everytime you were around him, things felt a little different, like there was something in the air that made everyone else look a bit more fuzzy as he was brought into focus. It didn't ever help that he was seemingly always getting so much more handsome every time you saw him.

His auburn locks were a little longer at the moment, no doubt because his biggest priority whilst on the run from the Empire was not his hair, but you weren't complaining. His hair framed his angelic face so perfectly, his features undeniably sharper and more mature, though his eyes were still as soft and gentle as they had always been, with a startling youthfulness that he couldn't seem to shake.

“It's good to see you guys, I'm glad to see you're not… with the Empire” You said a little hesitantly, then noticed the small blonde girl that was hiding behind Hunter.

He noticed you looking at her and introduced her to you.

“It's nice to meet you Omega” You smiled, kneeling down to get on her level.

“It's nice to meet you too, though I have already heard of you since Tech talks about you a lot” She said matter-of-factly.

“Is that right?” You smirked, looking up at Tech, whose cheeks were positively burning.

“I think I may have mentioned your existence a few times” He spoke flatly, but the edge of squeakiness gave him away.

The idea of Tech talking about you, or even just casually mentioning your existence in a passing comment, was enough to set your heart alight. In whatever manner it had truly been, he had at least always remembered you in some way, and that brought the smile to your face.

Hunter then said goodbye to you, and then to Echo, and retreated to the ship. Tech did the same, but instead walked towards you, stopping just in front of you. You had to crane your neck a little to look up at him in the pleasantly close quarters. Had he always been this tall?

“I-” He just looked at you for a while, and you smiled at him, waiting patiently for him to continue. “I have many questions to ask you” He finished.

You chuckled, “Maybe another time?”

Tech couldn't help but sigh, the familiar words making his heart ache, “Another time, yes”

“I think I owe you something now” You said with a small grin, trying to ease the light crease in his brow.

Tech watched your expression change cautiously, “Owe me? I don't think so”

“I mean, if you don't want it then-”

“Well, I must admit, I am curious now”

You laughed at his interjection, smiling at him fondly, “Alright, here you go then”

You placed a hand on his cheek and brought your lips to the other one, placing a lingering kiss to his cheekbone. Tech closed his eyes at the bittersweet feeling of it, and opened them to look back into yours. He placed his own hand to your cheek before the moment could end, and gently rubbed his thumb back and forth, his eyes searching yours. He took a quick glance over your shoulder and saw his brothers all watching him, waiting for him so they could leave, and he chewed the corner of his lip a little as he looked back to you.

“One of these days, I'll give you a proper kiss” He said quietly, making your heart skip a beat, “If you'd like that”

“I'd like that very much” You replied quickly, the grin on your face only growing.

Tech cracked his own small smile. “Another time then” He whispered, and looked over your features for a second longer, before placing a soft kiss to your forehead and walking away.

You watched him leave with an undeniable fondness swelling in your heart. You had felt a certain affection for Tech from the very beginning, and the thrill of the idea of him returning the feelings that you harboured for him brought forth the newfound nature of said feelings.

It went deeper than just liking him in a special way. This emotion you felt when you looked at him, or when you thought of him, was different. The way your heart stopped when he looked at you, the way your breath hitched when he spoke your name, you knew it was different. This was far more profound than a silly crush. The longevity of your affections had caused them to develop into something deeper, more serious.

Something like love.

17BBY, REBELLION BASE

“I need to talk to you”

You looked up from cleaning your workstation and saw Echo striding towards you, determination in his eyes that seemed otherwise tired and possibly even sad.

“What's the matter?” You asked, rushing over to meet him in the middle.

He opened his mouth, trying to find the words, but finding them hard to say, to admit even to himself.

“I… was just on a mission with the batch” He started.

“Oh how are they? How's Tech?” You ask, your mood lifted just a little.

Echo's heart ached, his eyebrows pinching together as his lips formed a hard line. His eyes began to well up slightly and he blinked a few times to rid himself of the tears.

“I'm so sorry” He whispered.

“Why are you sorry?” You asked cautiously.

“Tech… He-” Echo swallowed, “He didn't make it, he fell”

The words hit directly into your heart, and you could almost feel it collapse in on itself.

“Wh- What?” You whimpered out, almost hoping that you had heard him wrong, or that it was just a cruel joke of some kind.

“He… He sacrificed himself for the squad, so that they could live”

You couldn't say anything, couldn't breathe, couldn't move, couldn't think. The only thing you could do, was let the feeling of everything crashing down wash over you. It truly felt as if the hinges of your life, the certain something that seemingly held it up, had come loose.

You heard Echo say your name, but it was distant, like he was in another room. Your knees slowly gave in, and he grabbed you as you fell to the ground. He held you in his arms as you cried silently, your tears soaking through his clothes. He stroked your hair comfortingly, whispering assurances about how it was going to be fine, that everything would be alright.

“I never got to tell him, Echo” You choked out eventually, cutting through his smooth words.

“Tell him what?” He asked tenderly, knowing all too well what it was.

“That I… love him” You said, and a small sob finally escaped you.

Somehow it felt even harder to admit now that he was gone. Your love didn't feel as if it was in the past tense. It felt present, current, and that's why the sudden grief stung so much - the love was still lingering, and it didn't feel as if it was planning on leaving anytime soon. After all, it had managed to survive not seeing him for long periods of time, and to your broken heart, it felt the same.

17BBY, IMPERIAL PRISION

You surfaced slowly into consciousness, your eyes trying to open, but to no avail. You could feel your wrists caught in restraints, held above you on either side of your head. You tried to remember what had happened, but everything was fuzzy. You were… at the base. The Bad Batch were there, then… You were attacked? You were running with… Howzer? and then…

You couldn't recall anything past that point, but when your eyes finally opened you had a little idea of what could have happened. Sat opposite you with their arms crossed, was a man dressed head to toe in black armour, like the operative that Rex had captured before the attack on the base. He began talking, but it wasn't initially intelligible.

You shook your head to try and clear the brain fog a little, “Wha-”

“Tell me where the girl is” He demanded. The sound of his voice was so eerily familiar, but it was heavily modified by his helmet.

“Girl?” You questioned through your delirious state, turning your wrists in their restraints. Naturally, you knew who he was talking about, but you weren't going to give up that easily.

“Omega. I saw you talking with her, I know you know her and her brothers. Now, tell me, where would they have taken her?”

You pressed your mouth into a hard line, you could hardly deny it if he had seen you. “I won't talk”

He sighed, standing up and walking over so he stood in front of you, “I don't need to hurt you…” He said your name, and a chill ran up your spine. How could he know your name?

“That's not my name” You narrowed your eyes, looking into his visor.

“You cannot lie to me, Cyare” He spoke, and ran a hand over your cheek, “It would serve you well to tell the truth, it would be a shame to have to ruin this pretty face”

You looked over the man's appearance, for any semblance of individuality, but there was nothing.

“Who are you?” You asked.

“No one that concerns you anymore” The man chuckled, stepping back from you, “Now, tell me, what has become of the defective clones?”

You clenched your jaw in defiance, refusing to spill anything without even a little bit if incentive. You were clearly in some kind of imperial facility, but you weren't in any immediate danger, so you would stay stubborn for as long as you could.

The man spoke your name in a warning tone, his head tilted to the side, “I need you to tell me”

“I wont tell you anything” You spat back at him. He was irritatingly calm and collected, something you had not experienced from the Empire before.

He folded his hands behind his back, humming thoughtfully, “You will. Perhaps, another time”

With that, he turned and pressed the button on the door panel to leave.

You let your head hang down again, letting out a deep breath. If you weren't so tired you were sure that you'd be more panicked, but as your eyes closed and you let the exhaustion take over, you couldn't find it in yourself to be scared. Your body ached, and you needed it to rest if you wanted any chance of getting out of here.

The mysterious operative returned often over the next few days, pushing for answers but always leaving empty handed. He would always threaten violence, but had not touched you once since caressing your face in that first encounter.

He was now stood opposite you as he always was, making another empty threat about how you would be hurt if you didn't answer him.

You rolled your eyes, “Are you ever going to hold true to that promise?”

He stayed silent, and you laughed a little.

“Come on, I dare you, hurt me” You urged, jutting your chin out.

You were so tired of this, and he was obviously worn out by your defiance as well.

“I told you” He spoke quietly, “The last thing I would ever mean to do is hurt you”

Your heart stopped, and your eyes went wide as the familiar voice finally placed itself, hearing the same words that it had said all those years ago.

“It can't be, you-”

The man reached up and took off his helmet with a short hiss. He looked different, his face scarred and weary, his goggles nowhere to be seen, but it was undeniably him. The only thing that could have convinced you otherwise was the fact that his eyes didn't have the youthful sparkle they always seemed to in the past. Instead, they looked tired, completely worn down, and cold.

“Tech” You whispered, your heart beating impossibly fast in your chest.

He stepped closer, “I do not go by that name anymore”

On instinct, your eyes began to water, and a single tear ran down your cheek, “What are you doing here? You- You're with the Empire?”

He didn't reply, but he took off a glove and brought his hand to your face to wipe your tear away. You closed your eyes, and he let his hand remain on your cheek, rubbing your cheekbone lightly.

“I need you to tell me what I want to know” He spoke so softly now, and you opened your eyes and look up into his. They were still so inviting despite their unfamiliar coldness.

“Tech, why are you doing this?”

He didn't reply again, but brought his other hand to your cheek and held your face gently, his own just in front of yours, “Tell me”

“I can't” You choked out, brow furrowed as he ignored your questions.

“Please, Cyare. They will hurt you if you don't talk”

“Let them” You said firmly, tugging your face from his hands, “I won't betray your brothers”

Tech just watched you for a moment before opening his mouth again.

“So be it”

He put his helmet back on and left the room, leaving you alone with the revelation that the man you had been in love with was not only alive, but under the control of the Empire, the very thing you had dedicated your life to defeating.

The following day, when you lifted your head to see Tech enter your cell, he was now joined by an Imperial officer, and a floating droid that had a thin needle protruding from it. You understood all too well what this droid was, what it was used for, and you pulled at your restraints, a string of grunts escaping your lips.

“Resisting will do you no good” The Imperial officer chuckled, standing before you as the droid positioned itself to your left.

Tech couldn't watch. He kept his head up, appearing to be looking straight through you, but he had to close his eyes. Your screams were enough. You were resisting at every turn, and Tech just wished you would relent so that he wouldn't have to listen to the awful sounds that escaped you. The sounds that cut deep through his conditioning and hit his very soul, causing his chest to ache.

“Please, Tech. Make them stop” You cried hopelessly, and he squeezed his eyes closed even further, trying to block everything out.

To you, he looked cold, unmoving, and even after the Imperial had left with the droid as you had not let anything slip, he didn't budge at all.

After a few minutes of quiet, the only sound that was heard being your heavy breathing, he stepped forwards, taking off his helmet and letting it drop to the floor. He reached up and let you down from your restraints, catching your body as it fell down, limp with exhaustion. He knelt on the floor, his hand on the back of your head as it rested in his lap.

Your eyes fluttered open to see his face. He looked undeniably remorseful, and his eyes had a little amount of that special spark that they used to. You reached up and touched his face, causing his eyes to close with a shaky breath.

“What have they done to you Tech?” You whispered, your throat raw from shouting.

He didn't speak, but his heart clenched in his chest, every word you spoke bringing him further from the conditioning he had been subjected to to make him the way he was.

“How you could you let them do this to your brothers? To me? Do you not care about me at all?”

His eyes were now glassy when he opened them and looked down at you. He leant down and brought his forehead to yours, “I care for you more than you know”

Your tears were streaming down your face, “Then why are you doing this?”

Looking so deeply into your teary eyes, something in him finally snapped. He had a moment of intense clarity, fighting through his conditioning and realising the severity of his actions, of who he now was, who he had been forced to become.

He helped you stand before tying you back up in your restraints, much to your confusion.

You were sobbing now, your body and mind heavy with exhaustion, “Tech, please. Please stop this”

“I will come back for you, Cyare” He whispered, bringing his forehead back to yours with a hand on the back of your head, “I will get you out of here, I promise”

He stepped back, and was about to put his helmet back on, but he looked up to you once more.

“I am so very sorry”

You saw a tear slip from his eye, and he then placed his helmet on his head, leaving you alone once more.

Holding true to his promise, Tech returned that night. He unclipped your restraints, and you crumbled to your knees.

“Come on Cyar'ika, I'm going to get you out of here” He said gently, helping you to stand.

You tried to get a good footing, but your legs were too weak, and you fell into him. Without needing to be told, he picked you up, slinging an arm behind your back and the other under your knees. You rested your hands on his chest, looking up at his helmeted face and feeling unsure about his motivations. You were too tired to inquire though, so you just leaned your head against his shoulder and let him take you wherever he was going.

Tech carried you through the corridors of the prison, looking around corners and making sure to take the route where there would be the least guards. He constantly made sure you were still with him, as you kept slipping in and out of consciousness, so he'd place his fingers against your pulse point.

He slammed his hand into the door panel, and entered the elevator that would take you to the surface. The doors slid closed and he looked down at you, and behind his mask, he couldn't help but smile.

You looked so peaceful, so calm, so… beautiful.

For the first time, he let himself think of the future. He would get you out of here, and then he'd be free to think about his future. Maybe he'd re-join his brothers on Pabu, maybe… you would come with him. He hoped you could forgive him for the mistakes he'd made.

The doors opened, and Tech stepped out, pacing quickly across the landing platform to the nearest ship. Before he could make it there though, a bright light was shone on the pair of you from above.

“Trooper, put the prisoner down” A voice spoke through a loudspeaker, and he held you tightly in defiance.

He continued towards the transport, but was stopped in his place as blaster fire ripped through the air. His leg gave way as one of the shots grazed him, and he collapsed onto his knee, keeping you close to his chest so you wouldn’t hit the ground. He heard you let out a strangled gasp, and his heart sunk to his feet.

He pulled back from you, and sure enough, a blaster bolt had ripped straight into your chest.

He began panicking instantly, his breath quick and ragged, his heart stuttering and beating at an uneven pace. He let you rest in his lap, looking up to him through half lidded eyes that told him what he already knew to be true.

“No” He said assuredly, “You’re fine, you’re okay”

“Tech” You whispered.

“Everything will be fine” He bit into his bottom lip, completely in denial of what was happening.

“Tech” You said more firmly, though your voice was croaky, “It’s okay”

“It is not okay!” He exclaimed, tears spilling from his eyes that had quickly welled up.

He just watched you in disbelief, now unable to control the sobs that left his mouth. He had never cried so hard at anything in his life, but right now it felt as if everything was ending when it had only barely just begun.

“I'm so sorry Cyare, for everything” He whispered, his heart aching when you gave him a half-hearted smile.

“I know Tech, I know” You said breathlessly, the feeling of the blaster bolt to your heart ripping any strength from you.

Tech held your body close to him as the life slipped from you.

“It shouldn't have been like this, I should've protected you” He sobbed into your chest.

You pulled his head back and hooked your fingers under the edge of his helmet, taking it off his head so you could look into his eyes. You placed your hand on the side of his scarred cheek, and he leaned into it savouring your warm touch while he still could.

“It's okay Tech, I forgive you”

He didn't even think, he didn’t want to. Instead he just brought his lips to yours, the salty taste of his tears finding your tongue. The kiss was perfect, yet so bittersweet. It was something you had both waited years for, but now it would be one of the last moments you would ever share together. Tech kissed you so fervently, pouring every inch of his being into you, connecting his soul to yours, and in return you gave everything you had, even as it was slipping away.

He didn’t want it to end, and neither did you, but you knew your time was limited, and you had something you needed to say. You had thought that you had missed your chance before, and you’d be damned if you missed it now, in your final moments.

“Tech” You whispered, pulling away from him and looking into his glassy eyes, “I love you”

He let out a choked sob and brought his forehead to yours, “I love you too Cyar’ika, I always will”

His forehead rested against yours as you slipped away. He was whispering apologies, his eyes closed, unable to look into your eyes and see the light leave them. After a few moments, your hand fell from his face, and that's when he knew you were gone.

Tech held you close to him for a moment longer before his blood began boiling with rage. He laid your lifeless body against the ground, closing your eyes and making sure you could be comfortable even in death.

He stood, a flame burning inside of him that spread throughout his limbs, urging his fingers to find the pair of blasters that sat at his hip. He unholstered them just as blaster fire once more resumed. He dodged what he could, shooting the stormtroopers that closed in on him and depleting their numbers single-handedly, but his luck was eventually going to run out, and he knew that.

The first shot was to his shoulder, sending him stumbling backwards, but he fought through the searing pain and continued knocking down the soldiers. The second shot placed itself in his knee and he cried out as it gave way and he fell to his other knee, still fighting for his life. The third and fourth shots were the true nail in the coffin, both of them finding his chest and ripping him open as you had been. Even though he had armour, it was not enough to withstand two blaster bolts to the heart.

He fell forwards, his body sprawled on the floor unceremoniously. He lifted his head just a little to look towards your body. He grasped ahead of him and found purchase on your hand, still warm as if you were there comforting him through death as he had for you.

He laid down on his back as he saw his life flashing before his eyes, your hand clasped in his, and he mourned the life that could have been. Perhaps in another life, another time, things would have ended differently.

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