#beyond face value wasn’t a good idea?

[aventurineswife]

you could write a scenario with Aventurine, Dan Heng and Jing Yan (or any other more character of your preference) the theme is the song "Treat you Better" by Shawn Mendes, like, the fem!eader is in a relationship with someone who doesn't treat her well and they're like "leave him, I can treat you better"

idk this idea just stuck in my head while I was listening to the song, it brings me nostalgia 😭😭

It's my first time making a request soooo... Sorry if the grammar is wrong, English is not my first language

Anyway, I love your writing, it's really good and recently I've been addicted to your writing 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

“I Can Treat You Better Than He Can”

Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Dan Heng x Reader, Jing Yuan x Reader, Fluff, Angst, Character Development, Comfort, Self-Worth, Protective, Inner Turmoil, Slow Burn.

Warnings: Emotional Trauma (mentions of unhealthy relationships, emotional abuse), Heavy Themes of Self-Doubt, Mental Health Struggles (emotional burden, survivor’s guilt, loneliness), Manipulation (Aventurine’s past as a manipulative figure may be referenced), Conflict of Interests.

A/N: NOOO I USED TO LISTEN TO THAT ALL THAT TIME AS A KID AND SAME GOES FOR MY SISTER TOO 😭🙏

Tagslist: @themiddletenmasibling

The Astral Express hummed quietly as the night passed, the stars outside flickering like distant dreams. Inside, Dan Heng stood by the window, his piercing gaze focused on the black void that stretched out before them. His hand rested lightly on spear, but his thoughts were elsewhere, fixating on the unspoken weight in the air.

You had been quiet lately, quieter than usual. Your normally bright and radiant demeanor had been replaced with something more distant, more guarded. He couldn’t ignore the subtle change in the way you carried yourself, the slumped shoulders, the barely concealed sadness in your eyes whenever you thought no one was looking. He noticed how you would retreat to corners of the train, as if trying to escape the weight of the world you carried.

It didn’t take long for Dan Heng to piece together that you were in a relationship with someone who didn’t deserve you. He had heard the whispers when you weren’t around—the way your voice cracked when you mentioned your partner, the way your eyes became dull with resignation. He knew it wasn’t his place to say anything, but something inside him churned with a quiet anger at the injustice of it all.

Tonight, as the crew settled in for a rare moment of rest, Dan Heng found himself walking quietly towards you. He was unsure of what to say, how to break the silence that had been between you for so long. But as he approached, he noticed the familiar look of frustration and sadness on your face, and the words slipped out before he could stop them.

"Why do you stay with him?" His voice was soft but firm, cutting through the quiet like a blade. He didn’t look at you directly, his eyes focused on a point beyond the window, but his presence was unmistakable.

You hesitated, a sigh escaping your lips as you glanced at him. "It’s complicated, Dan Heng."

He could feel the hesitation in your words, the uncertainty that plagued your thoughts. He let out a soft breath, turning slightly to face you, his gaze finally meeting yours.

"It doesn’t have to be," he said, his voice quieter now, almost like a whisper meant only for you. "You deserve someone who will value you, who will make you feel seen, not someone who drags you down."

He stepped closer, his expression softer than usual. "I can treat you better. I’ll be here for you, no matter what." He wasn’t sure where the words were coming from, but they felt true in the moment—like the truth had finally found its way to the surface.

You opened your mouth to protest, but he held up a hand, his fingers brushing lightly against your arm.

"Just think about it," he said. "You don’t have to carry this burden alone. There’s no need to stay in something that makes you unhappy."

For a long moment, neither of you spoke. The silence between you was heavy, yet comforting in its own way. Dan Heng’s words had opened a door, one that you weren’t sure you were ready to walk through—but part of you knew he was right. He was offering you a chance at something different, something better.

And for the first time in a while, you didn’t feel so alone.

The soft light of the Xianzhou Luofu’s lanterns flickered around you, casting long shadows across the polished marble floors. Jing Yuan, with his trademark laziness, stood at the entrance of the grand hall, surveying the scene with a sense of quiet satisfaction. His sharp eyes never missed a detail, yet tonight, they were focused on you.

You had been distant—more than usual. He could see the weariness in your movements, the way you seemed lost in your thoughts, as if the weight of something was pressing on your heart. It didn’t take a master strategist to figure out that you were struggling with the dynamics of your current relationship, and Jing Yuan found himself growing increasingly concerned.

He had long been the quiet observer, the strategist who planned steps far ahead of everyone else, but in this moment, he could feel the protective instincts rising within him. You were not just any crew member on the Luofu. No, you were someone he had come to care for, someone whose well-being mattered to him in a way he had not expected.

As the night wore on, Jing Yuan approached you slowly, his presence commanding yet soft in its approach.

"You’ve been quiet tonight," he remarked, his voice carrying a quiet authority. There was no judgment in his tone, only concern—a rare admission from the usually aloof Arbiter-General.

You gave him a weary smile, trying to brush off the unease that had settled in your chest. "Just tired, Jing Yuan."

He studied you for a moment, sensing that there was more to your fatigue than just physical exhaustion. "Tired of what?" His gaze softened, a rare vulnerability flickering in his usually calm eyes. "Tired of pretending everything is fine?"

You stiffened, caught off guard by his perceptiveness. It was like he could see right through you. There was no hiding from Jing Yuan’s wisdom, no shield to protect you from the understanding that radiated from him.

"Is it your partner?" he asked gently, the question hanging between you like an open wound.

For a moment, you faltered, unsure of how to respond. But the way Jing Yuan was looking at you, with such quiet intensity, made the decision easier.

"Yes," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "It’s... complicated."

He took a step closer, his presence looming but not oppressive. "It doesn’t have to be," he said, his voice low but unwavering. "You deserve someone who sees you for who you truly are. Someone who doesn’t make you doubt your worth."

You met his gaze, the weight of his words sinking deep into your soul. Jing Yuan was always careful with his words, and when he spoke like this, you knew he meant it.

"You don’t have to stay in something that hurts you," he continued, his tone softening further. "I can treat you better. I’d never ask you to settle for less than you deserve."

There was something raw in his words, something unspoken that hung in the air between you. In that moment, Jing Yuan’s stoic demeanor cracked, revealing a depth of care that he rarely allowed others to see.

He wasn’t asking for anything in return, only offering his presence as a foundation of support. And for the first time in a long while, you felt as if you were no longer alone in your pain.

The dimly lit room was filled with the faint hum of machinery and the rustle of papers, but Aventurine hardly noticed. His eyes were trained on you, watching as you moved about the space, your posture stiff and your steps hesitant, as if carrying an invisible weight that had settled heavily on your shoulders.

Aventurine had always prided himself on his ability to read people, to understand their motives and desires, but tonight, it was different. There was something in your gaze, something in the way you avoided his eyes, that tugged at him. He had seen this before, the quiet defeat, the sorrow carefully concealed beneath layers of indifference.

And he wasn’t having it.

With a swiftness that surprised you, he crossed the room and placed himself in your path, his usual teasing grin replaced by a rare expression of sincerity. His eyes, usually full of playful mischief, were serious as they met yours.

"Why are you still with him?" Aventurine asked, his voice lower than usual, stripped of its usual bravado. "You deserve more than that."

You hesitated, unsure of how to respond, but he wasn’t giving you the chance to retreat.

"You don’t have to keep sacrificing yourself for someone who doesn’t see your worth," he continued, his words laced with an intensity that was at odds with his usual flamboyant charm. "I can treat you better. I know what it’s like to fight for your place in this world, and I would never ask you to stay in something that drags you down."

Aventurine took a step closer, his hand hovering just slightly above yours, a gesture of support that you had not expected from him. He was no stranger to manipulation, to using people for his gain, but in this moment, his sincerity was undeniable.

"You’re more than just a pawn in someone else’s game," he said, his voice softer now, vulnerable in a way you had never heard it before. "You’re worth far more than that."

His usual bravado returned as he added, with a grin that didn’t quite match his eyes, "And if you ever want to play a different game, I’m yours."

You looked up at him, unsure of what to say, but in that moment, you realized something: for all his flaws and the games he played, Aventurine was offering you something you hadn’t known you needed—a chance at something better. Something that didn’t involve settling.

And that, for once, felt like enough.

[alkelkha]

𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐄𝐓. chapter three

relationship — jinx/powder x fem!blk coded reader

contents&warnings! : wc: 2.7k | post season 2 | lower-case indented | fluff | angst and i'm not comforting you this ch | lowkey unreliable narrator (jinx) | sexual tension if you squint | swapping spit with candy | beach episode | reader is implied to have big boobs | author attempt to write bpd splitting | reader and jinx get into an argument | not everything is sunshine and rainbows, friendship takes work and patience | not beta read | yes i am making this up along i go | PLEASE GIVE ME IDEAS FOR FUTURE CHAPTERS |

❛❛ OF COURSE, WE'RE FRIENDS ❜❜

WEEK ONE

after the two of you ran until the sunset it was awkward from there. jinx felt guilty— which she knew she shouldn’t, but she couldn’t help it. she practically begged you to be her friend and now chickening out like a pussy every time you get close.

she didn’t know how to be a friend. what does she do? give you hugs? scary!

you on the other hand?

you got comfortable immediately, going to the shop every day, hanging out with her rambling, and asking questions on her latest projects. jinx tried doing the same but there was this twisty turny feeling in her stomach when she tried. she was scared of how you would react.

she wants this. she wants your friendship, she needs it.

maybe it was because she finally cared what someone thought of her. someone that wasn’t silco or vi or isha.

she had to be vulnerable. 

fortunately, you didn't have any of it. you were the type of person to confront the problems ahead. communication was important to you which jinx hated, but appreciated simultaneously. it was beyond uncomfortable. at least it told her how much you valued this friendship between the two of you. you were willing to work things out.

“what does this device do?” your hand ran over the contraption, and with one move, you were covered in glitter. you slowly turned to jinx, looking at her with a deadpan, “don’t laugh—“

jinx nearly falls off her seat from laughing.  

this was painfully new to jinx. being called a ‘friend’, calling someone else her ‘friend’ was treading on unknown territory.

the way bubbles that formed in her heart the day she said yes burst every time you smiled at her as she ranted. that was sweeter than any candy you've given her.

you listen to her when she talks. you laugh at her dumb jokes. you walk with her around the plaza. you stay with her while she works on one of her (harmless) gadgets when you don’t have work. 

she was starting to understand the hype around having a friend. who knew sharing meals with someone made food taste even better? having a friend meant she could talk for hours on end and be met with a voice that wasn’t tearing her down.

is she doing it right? maybe. she isn’t sure herself.

grabbing a cloth, you wiped down your face. it didn’t help much. powder’s laughter wasn’t any help either. 

“you’re helping me clean that up, sprinkles.” powder tosses you a broom with a grin on her lips.

WEEK TWO

stalking your friend is totally normal. there’s nothing wrong in making sure your friend gets to work safely, especially when there’s a gang after her. besides, is it really stalking if she’s hiding in plain sight? she just so happened to blend in with the colorful scenery of flosnum. much like herself, flosnum loves colors.

pink and orange powder that you can get from kicking plot plants. beautifully painted murals. colorful homes. it was a colorblast.

and just like the good friend she is, she knows your schedule by heart!

you wake up around seven am, ready for the day at about eight-thirty, do a bunch of random stuff after that, and show up at her house or shop at eleven am to hang out. on weekends and wednesdays, you work the afternoon shift. mondays and fridays are your days off. the rest you work at night.

you can't blame her for it, she has no idea what she would do if you got hurt. she’s finally settling down, and that took 10 mental breakdowns.

sometimes, while following you, she'll get distracted and end up at the ice cream truck. after trying out all the poor old man could offer, cotton candy became her favorite.

what was she doing again? oh yeah!

your work was demanding, which is odd because she’s been at bars. hell, she grew up at one. she knew what they were like, and it certainly wasn't supposed to be what you were doing. she had never seen a bartender work so hard. powder was pretty sure the job wasn’t supposed to be this intense. 

SEVEN CHIMES was just like its home flosnum with a mature air. paper lanterns that would illuminate a variety of colors and shadows of white stars on the ceiling some days. weekends it would be packed and that was one of those days. 

you were exactly the same while you worked. the customers loved you. even if they were drunk, the only type of handsy they would get is an arm swing around your shoulder. 

your coworker, stella is what you called her, kept your eyes on you a bit too long. stella’s eyes trailed your body up and down before meeting powder’s.

they locked eyes. 

with a smirk, stella broke the contact eye.

.

.

.

okay, what the fuck was the smirk about?

powder slumps down in her seat from the corner of the bar. she already knew she wasn’t going to like her. who the hell did that girl think she was? does she want to fight? because powder will! feeling her eyes twitch she looked down to slip on her pink fuzzy drink.

“baby blue?”

jinx's eyes shot up to the voice. it was you! in all your glory, the blue light hitting your pretty dark skin, wearing that smile the same way you wore the stupid bronze turtle necklace around your neck. pretty.

after she was done checking you out a frog got fixed in her throat. she's been caught. wait! it’s not the end of the world yet. she could just brush it off as a simple visit! perfect plan.

“why did you tell me you were here?” you sit down on the opposite side of the table as her. “stella told me 'a certain blue-haired girl' had been 'keeping her eyes on me.'”

ohhhh, so that’s why she smirked.

snitch.

“just wanted a drink.” powder shrugs and keeps sipping down her drink. 

“you could’ve said hi, ya know? now i feel bad for you sitting here all alone.” you frown.

“you say that like i’m going type of loner!” powder scoffs. you raise an eyebrow as if you’re saying ‘are you not?’.

she furrows her brows, “i am not!” she defended herself.

“i never said—“

“you were going to!” 

you leaned back and sighed. that struck something in jinx. she’s got you annoyed.

shit.

now you were probably thinking of breaking it off with her and never seeing her face again. she should’ve known. she shouldn’t have gotten attached. “I’m sorry—“

“come on blue,” you interrupt her, getting out of your seat. “my shift just ended, and i’m starving!” you take her cold hand in your warm one, pulling her out of the bar.

WEEK THREE

blue was mysterious— was.

this girl bounced off walls. no filter. talks back to old mean people who gave you a hard time. she had to be constantly doing something or doing nothing. no in-between. you adapted to it.

she's unlike anyone you’ve ever met. 

the shop you gave her? now her hideout. she completely renovated it in her own style. remember that broken illuminating sign? now the sign had no words it was a…

monkey?

you think it was. you saw it often in her work. you’re guessing it was her signature. 

you liked moments like this. standing behind her, brushing her short hair mindlessly. her hair grew really fast, it was almost to her shoulders now.

jinx tinkered on the glitter bomb that exploded in your face three weeks ago. her tongue stuck out the corner of her mouth in concentration.

it was odd. her hair. not that it was bad, she somehow pulled it off amazingly, but you can’t help but think that this was a recent cut. “why did you cut your hair this way?” you asked.

she pauses her work and looks up, leaning back in her chair to get a better look at you. “what, don’t like it?” your heart jumped at the sight of her.

she was so cute. wide pink eyes, blue eyeshadow, dark lipstick, and glitter stains on her face. 

“no, just curious,” you spoke softly. powder’s eyes trail away from you as she thinks about whether she should answer your question.

in the meantime, you noticed some dark grease on the corner of her mouth. it was nagging at you, she was dangerously close to eating it if she were to lick her lips.

taking your thumb you lick it and then wipe it off of her. the action caused her to scrunch up her face a bit but she didn’t pull away. “it was a weakness.” she answered your question, “my hair was wayyy too long, practically dragged it on the ground.” she shrugged still looking up at you. 

“plus, i needed some change.” jinx made her hand into a gun and slowly raised it up to you, “pow.” she pretended to shoot you. 

“shooting me now?” your voice amused, raising a brow at her.

“you should’ve dodged it,” she shrugs, looking back down to her work. she set it down on the workbench and spun her chair around, “now you’re dead,” she got up from her seat to get another tool. "sucker."

“i thought you liked me!” you grumble, her back was now turned to you. 

“just a little.” she plays into it and turns around. 

her eyes widened to see you point a sucker to her head, with a smirk on your face, “now, you’re dead.”

“oh, so that’s how you wanna play, princess?” she puts her hand on her hip.

“you started it, cutie.” you unwrap the sucker, placing it in your mouth.

she narrows her eyes at you with a frown. a cute frown. you could tell she wasn’t really angry. she takes the sucker out of your mouth and places it in hers. 

your breath hitched. this should not be affecting you the way it is. the heat that coursed through your body went straight up to your face. jinx leaning closer didn’t help, you could envision her tongue swirling around the candy.

oh fuck.

WEEK FOUR

the warm softly grainy sand slipped between jinx’s toes as she stood barefoot on the beach. the beach was bustling. children darting around, teenagers around playing volleyball, and locals dancing to the music that filled the air.

she sits down on the blanket you placed down. “you’ve gotten tanner, blue.” you say as you just finished applying sunscreen on yourself.

she didn’t even know what sunscreen was until she crashlanded her. “you used to be a ghost, now look at you.” she wasn’t tan, she was still pretty fair, but she wasn’t as white as a ghost the first time she got here.

you sat on your legs in front of her with your hand lathered up with sunscreen. you slowly approached her giving her the time to pull away. she didn’t. you applied the sunscreen on her tattooed arms.

jinx didn't need you to do this. she could’ve done it herself, but your touch was nice…

also because of the view it was giving her. “now, where have you been hiding these bazongas!?”

"I've had these the whole time" you deadpan at her, get up and crawl away to the other side of the blanket.

"never out in the open like this!" she bursts out laughing at your reaction. “wait, wait! come back, pretty lady!” she grabs onto your wrist, pulling you closer. 

she was terrifyingly strong for someone so thin. “you’re no better than a man!” you yelp but don’t pull away (not that you could). 

“can a girl appreciate some beauty?” she huffs, wrapping her arms around your waist and pulling your back to her chest. “not my fault they’re right in front of me.” she pokes at them. jinx bit her lip to contain her laughter.

the clear blue water shimmered in the sun like it was a jewel. jinx clung onto your back, arms around your neck, and legs wrapped around your waist. fun fact! jinx can’t swim. “you’re such a baby.” you giggle, she puts her cheek on yours.

the both of you spent the time in the ocean teaching her how to swim or trying to kill each other by splash wars (you almost went blind because of her).

it was sunset. the both of you laid down on the blanket under you, looking up into the now pink sky. powder held onto your hand and you gladly held it with the same intensity.

“i like this, toots.” she turns her head to you but you don’t seem to notice. your eyes were fixated on the sky, you hand slightly loosened your grip.

your face drops into an annoyed expression, “i like this too.” foolishly you let out a tired sigh.

jinx's mind swirls.

she lying to you! she doesn’t mean it, do you see the way she replied? you’re such an idiot for trusting her. she’s probably only hanging out with you out of pity.

jinx shook her head, “you sure? you don’t sound like you did.” her voice offended.

you finally looked back at her. “sorry, baby blue. i’m just tired—“

she scoffs. “tired? tired of me? i thought we were having fun!” she sat up.

taken aback by her reaction you quickly backtracked what you said. you didn’t want to make this any worse. you got up to level with her, “no, no. of course not tired of you. i love hanging out with you, baby blue.” with that you seemed to get through to her, her face relaxed.

she’s tired of you. she’s tired of you. she’s tired of you. she’s tired of you. she’s tired of you. she’s tired of you. she’s tired of you. she’s tired of you.

jinx’s jaw clenches. why would you be tired of her? that doesn’t make sense! she’s made sure you had fun this whole time. yeah, at the beginning of your friendship, she chickened out a bit but you forgave her. yeah, she would pull stupid pranks but you love them. so why would you be so rude?

she looked into your warm eyes. “you’re lying to me!” she rips her hand away from yours. why are you lying to her? jinx’s eyebrows furrowed, jaw tensed and her forehead held creases.

“i’m sorry, blue. i just got stressed—“

“if you were stressed why would you come here in the first place? if you’re not having fun just say so, you didn’t have to fake it and lead me on the whole day.” she stood up and you did the same.

“what?” like an idiot, you laugh at the situation happening right now. “i never said all of that. honey, if you let me finish my sentence you would understand.”

now she’s laughing at you, she’s not even trying to hide it!

“shut up!” jinx shouts and you quickly pipe down. her breath came out in heavy pants. hands trembling over her ears. her mind was in overdrive. she was thinking about everything. about how you hate her. about how this was doomed from the start.

she should’ve known, no way someone would actually want a genuine connection with her. it’s not like you could ever understand her.

she points her finger out accusingly, “you think this is a laughing matter? you think i’m a joke!” 

your voice got caught up in your throat. this was insane. she was insane. she was just making up things on the spot to play the victim. you suck in a breath and shake your head. “what’s wrong with you?”

those words left like a gunshot to her heart. 

told ya.

jinx. 

not that you had to work hard to get to this point. wasn’t like she liked you to begin with.

hot, frustrated tears welled up in her eyes, her nails dug into the palm of her hand, letting blood drop freely onto the blanket under the two of you. an uncomfortable silence hung in the air, thick and stifling.

her glare at you intensified, a flicker in her pink eyes of… betrayal? a step back, followed by another, soon, she left you alone on the beach.

this was a mistake.

TAGLIST: @millie2point0 @powderbomb-jinxed @velvetinkbym

[frogaroundandfindout]

I used to give the 'lazarus pit madness' trope for jason so much shit unless it was a REALLY good fic that did something interesting with the idea. But the more I read of pre52 red hood the more I'm just like "yeah no I have absolutely no idea how I'd reconcile all this heinous shit he's done without finding a way to make it not his fault actually"

I hate the 'jason was always a monster and bruce couldn't save him' nonsense so much, he was literally just a homeless little boy. MY BUDDY LITERALLY WILLINGLY WENT BACK TO BEING HOMELESS BECAUSE HE DIDN'T WANT TO HURT PEOPLE FOR MA GUNN EVEN THOUGH IT MEANT GIVING UP FOOD AND SHELTER AND DECENT TREATMENT

jason sweetheart I'm so sorry dc butchered you like this my god

When the characterization is so inconsistent the fandom has to resort to literal magic to explain it.

But seriously, I haven’t read a whole lot of Jason as Robin but from what I did read he was so tiny and just wanted to do good. It’s a disservice to every character involved for Bruce to adopt him because he thought he’d be a criminal otherwise. It implies Bruce thinks of every kid living in poverty as a shoe in for crime and not as some of the most vulnerable individuals in low SE areas. Which is just…so bad considering he’s 1) a rich white man stereotyping a large group of people and 2) someone that fights crime because of an act of violence commited in front of him as a little boy. A Batman that doesn’t believe in the goodness of a child (especially one like Jason who, like you said, gave up basic necessities for the sake of his morals) and protecting it in a way he wasn’t protected is a very very weird Batman to me. So it turns Bruce into a white knight and redhood into confirmation of Bruce’s stereotyping and paranoia.

If it was just Jason thinking that’s why Bruce took him in it would be a completely different animal. I might have even enjoyed reading about how Jason rationalized their changed relationship after he came back swinging (literally) and thinking that it’s some innate characteristic about him that drove the wedge between him and Bruce before he even realized it was there. But it’s very much not just Jason. EVERYONE. FUCKING. SAYS. IT. And tbh that kinda ruins everyone just a bit in my eyes. If not agreement and support for Bruce’s bs, they’re at least silently complicit in perpetuating it.

But beyond that, it also makes me think of Devin Grayson’s run where she kept talking about how dick was “meant for crime” or would have obviously been a criminal if it wasn’t for Bruce. This was built on frankly awful stereotypes regarding Romani people. I bring this one up because the combination of the two does not make Bruce look as good as the writers seemed to think.

But if we ignore the bs involved and take the reason for Jason’s adoption at face value, I think it offers an interesting comparison between him and Damian. Jason is presented a child destined for a life of crime who eventually became one of The Villains despite Batman’s efforts. Damian was an heir destined for crime who eventually became one of The Heroes because of Batman’s efforts. Idk it’s just interesting to me.

[loganwritesprobably]

Back Pain (T.S.)

Synopsis: Reader is Tony’s physical therapist turned lover, and he has a horrible habit of spending too long in his workshop and ending up in pain. As reader helps soothe that pain, Tony asks a question, and reader immediately soothes that pain too. Tags/Warnings: Tony/GN!Reader, physical therapist!reader, age gap, established relationship, Tony is insecure, non-sexual massage Word count: 931

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Tony was ridiculous. Even as he got older, the man insisted on holing himself up in his workshop for hours at a time, focusing on his new genius idea. You’d told him time and time again that he needed to take more breaks, either longer breaks or more regular breaks - it was up to him which he preferred - yet he didn’t seem to heed your advice. Which was made even more insulting by the fact that you were his physical therapist before you were his lover, but you chose to understand that it wasn’t personal. The man is just a fool. Lucky for him, you still acted as his physical therapist when you were needed.

When, without a word, Tony threw himself down on the bed beside you with a loud groan, and a twitch that you recognised as a sign that he’d hurt his back quite bady, you only sighed.

“How many times have I told you?”

“I know- more breaks, I didn’t realise how long I’d been there.”

“Liar. I told FRIDAY to remind you to take a break every half hour.”

“I tune her out you know that.” Tony retorted, and you just sighed. Carefully, you lifted yourself up to straddle his hips and sat yourself on his ass, beginning to gently rub his back, helping to ease his pain.

When he’d first hired you, it had been because Tony had torn his ACL and it was giving him a lot of trouble, especially when trying to do his work as Iron Man, and he needed assistance with the pain and recovering from the injury. You’d worked well, he’d told you as such and tipped generously when you refused to let him pay double your usual rate. You’d accepted the money, because you would’ve been a fool not to, even if you didn’t feel good about it. You were doing the same work anyone else with your qualifications would’ve. Happy explained later that it was because you didn’t fawn over him, or attempt to seduce him, which the three young women he’d spoken to before you had done.

That reasoning came back you four months later when Tony asked you on a date, and the irony was certainly not lost on you, but you’d come to enjoy his company and value his opinions, so you’d accepted. The two of you had dated casually for two months before becoming official, and three months after that you were living with him. You were glad you’d been friends first, and then dated for a prolonged period before moving in, even if having a live-in physical therapist wasn’t particularly uncommon for people with Tony’s wealth, because you had more time to get to know him as a person, and come to understand the habits that now pissed you off beyond belief. You were able to ignore them, or accept them easier with a deeper understanding of where they came from.

Tony grunted as you worked on a knot in his back, but you didn’t let up until you were done.

“This is why you’re meant to take breaks. You’re getting too old to be hunched over your desk for so many hours at a time.” You scolded, and Tony turned his head so he could look up at you.

“Don’t call me old. I’m not that old.” He insisted, tone stern though the playful smile on his face completely ruined the effect.

“You’re over ten years older than me, Tones.” You pointed out with a raised brow, then nudged him back into the proper position for you to continue with your massage. You shuffled backward slightly, to be sitting at the bottom of his thighs so you could work his lower back, which you knew from experience would be more sore. His posture was a thing of nightmares.

You lifted yourself back down to the mattress, and took Tony’s hand in yours, returning to your aimless scrolling on your phone while Tony stewed. If asked, you’d have said you figured he was enjoying the relief from your massage, or his current project was running through his mind, thinking of calculations you’d never understand. So, when he instead said, “does it bother you?” you were caught entirely off guard.

“Does what bother me?” You asked in response, turning to Tony with a small frown.

“That I’m over a decade older than you.” He said simply, shifting slightly to sit up fully, holding your hand in both of his, absently playing with your fingers. That was an easy sign that he was nervous.

“If it bothered me, I’d never have agreed to go on that first date with you.” You replied, shuffling in closer, lifting your legs up to rest over top of his, then wrapped them around his waist.

“You sure? I mean, I’ve seen the shit the tabloids say about you.”

“The things they used to say, until you sued them all and bought two. You fixed it. For me. Because you care about me. And I care about you, Tony. I don’t give a shit what anyone else thinks.” You assured, and it was so easy to close the space between you both, pressing your lips firmly together in a warm, reassuring kiss.

“I love you, Anthony Howard Stark.” You said firmly, cupping his face in both your hands.

“I love you too, doll.” He replied, a completely lovestruck look on his face.

“I’ll love you for the rest of my life, not just yours.” You said softly, pressing your lips together for another gentle kiss, as if sealing a promise.

Tag list: @claryeverlarkf @uselessboots @cainnoable @hyperfixationthingss @queenmimi2817

If you'd like to tip me you can head over to my Kofi

[hugmekenobi]

S3: The Bad Batch (15)

Chapter Fifteen: The Calvary Has Arrived

Gif by @theworstbatch

Hunter x femaleJedi!reader

Series Summary: Ever since Eriadu, Clone Force 99 had been a fractured squad. Months have passed but you're finally back with the Batch but Omega is still out there and you won't stop until you find her again.

Chapter Summary: It all comes down to this final fight on Tantiss

Masterlist for S1 and S2

<Previous Chapter

Chapter Warnings: Limited (Y/N), swearing, canon-typical violence, injury descriptions (blood, cuts, blacking out and bruising, loss of limbs, choking), needles and injections, Hemlock being extra cruel and evil, detailed torture and pain descriptions, mentions of self-sacrifice, begging and heavy angst, reader has a bit of a low moment, death, 'fixing' a death, I alter how the hangar fight goes ever so slightly, the Force and medical supplies suiting my needs, happy endings with nice emotions and light PDA

Word Count: 15.8K (Terribly sorry)

Author's notes: It's here! It's a rollercoaster! And Jen and Brad, we all know how it really went, okay? Happy reading!

Night had fallen by the time Hunter, Wrecker and Crosshair had made more progress towards the base but even then, it was slow going. Patrols had increased and Wrecker’s injury was affecting him far more than he would like, they kept needing to stop to attend to it.

“Ow.” Wrecker complained as Hunter stuck him with another med patch.

“Did you think wrestling that creature was a good idea?” Crosshair snarked.

“At the time, yes.” Wrecker replied stubbornly.

“The base is five klicks away. Can you make it?” Hunter offered his hand out to Wrecker to get him back on his feet.

“Ha. Try and stop me.” Wrecker responded as he grasped Hunter’s hand.

Hunter waited a second to make sure the coast was clear before he led the way again.

--

Hemlock worked on drowning out the persistent blaring alarm as he walked down the corridor. His lack of success with you and Tech should not matter. He had enough to know how this squad operated. He still had everything under control. He stopped in front of the oncoming patrol group. “Guard the vault until the security lockdown is lifted.”

“Dr. Hemlock, one of the insurgents has been captured.” Scorch informed him.

Hemlock followed him down the side corridor towards the cells.

--

Hemlock opened the prison door to see a familiar face. He massaged the palm of his gloved hand as he entered the room. “Aligning yourself with insurgent clones…” He sighed, “Not a good look, Rampart.”

“You’re surprisingly calm, considering this secure and secret facility has been compromised.” Rampart said with a cool countenance. “I can’t imagine the Emperor will be pleased about that.”

Hemlock wasn’t about to let this failure of a man get under his skin. “All that time you spent on Kamino, yet you learned nothing about how clones think. I knew Clone Force 99 would eventually attempt to recover Omega and their Jedi. Their failure is inevitable.”

“The Jedi, I understand. But all this for the young clone too. I fail to see how she’s of value to you.”

Hemlock resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Of course, this fool didn’t understand. “What I am working on is beyond your understanding. Something so vital to the Empire, it makes me indispensable. Unlike yourself.” He waltzed out the cell.

--

“The longer this lockdown continues, the higher the chance you’ll be discovered.” Emerie advised cautiously as Echo kept working through the system. “We need to move. Now.”

“Why can’t I find any record of the vault Omega’s held in? Or this different cell you were talking about.”

“These databanks are heavily encrypted. The vault and the cell are several levels down. Hemlock keeps them under heavy guard, but I can get you inside.”

Echo unplugged and reattached his hand as he faced Emerie. “Why are you helping me?”

“Because I was wrong about this place. And-” She inhaled sharply, “I’m trying to do the right thing.”

The sincere way in which she spoke allowed Echo to view her in a new light. He gave her a respectful nod before he donned his trooper helmet and signalled for her to lead the way.

--

“You want us to do what?” Eva double checked as Omega finished telling them the plan.

“It’s how we’re going to escape.” Omega reminded them.

“But it sounds dangerous.” Sami said worriedly.

“My squad I told you about? They’re here. If we can get out of this room and find them, we can all go home.”

“What about your friend?” Jax asked.

Omega had to push you to the back of her mind, as much as it pained her to do so. “My first objective is to get you all home first.”

Home. The word felt so foreign to them now.

“You really think this will work?” Eva asked softly.

“I’ll make sure of it.” Omega promised. “I’ve been trained for this. Let’s get into position.”

Doing as she said, each of the kids took up a seat at a different table to wait on Sami’s signal that they were clear to start.

Sami looked up at the window to see Dr. Scalder step away which was when she tapped her puzzle piece on the table.

Omega readied her tool as Jax and Eva approached the supervising droid.

“My game is broken.” Eva held the device out to the droid. “Can you fix it?”

Omega snuck up behind the droid and stabbed the droid’s power centre. The three of them manoeuvred it into her cell where she could get to work on reprograming it.

Eva and Jax kept an eye out for Sami’s signal and Eva saw the Pantoran knock over the stack of pieces which only meant one thing, “Dr. Scalder is on her way. Hurry.”

“You’ve done this before, right?” Jax asked as Omega seemed no closer to getting whatever it was that she needed to do to the droid completed.

“Yes, but not on this type of droid.” Omega hissed as she hurriedly worked on the wires in the droid’s main control panel.

--

Dr. Scalder entered the lab and asked the specimen still at the table, “Where are the others?”

Sami stayed silent and held Bayrn close to her.

“Sp-39, I asked you a question.”

Sami pointed behind Dr. Scalder as she saw the three of them approaching.

“We w-were with the droid.” Eva said quietly, her head hanging in automatic submission.

Dr. Scalder sighed in exasperation. “Another scan wasn’t scheduled. Tell me what you were really doing.”

“Eva’s telling the truth.” Omega said calmy as the droid drew closer to Dr. Scalder. “We were with the droid.”

“Dr. Karr has been too lenient with you all. Return to your alcoves. A few days of isolation should remind you-” That was all she got to say before a needle pierced her skin and she fell unconscious.

“It worked.” Sammi gasped as Bayrn released a few happy babbles.

“You did great.” Omega praised. “Now, we have to hurry. Droid, guard the door. Sami, prep the sling for Bayrn.”

Omega dashed into her room and used her tool to get under the first panel before she could tear the rest down. Turning to the others and seeing that Bayrn was now secure on Jax’s back and Eva had her doll strapped to her, Omega asked, “Ready?”

“Ready.” Jax confirmed.

Omega led them into the walls as part to of their escape was underway.

--

Hunter, Wrecker and Crosshair paused again as another ship passed overhead.

“He’s gonna need another med patch.” Crosshair advised Hunter as he heard Wrecker’s strained grunt and the way he kept bringing his hand to his chest.

“We’re out.” Hunter said regrettably. Seeing Wrecker so hurt was a rare thing and it made the decision to carry on forward to Tantiss that bit harder.

Wrecker got to his feet with a groan. “I- I can make it.”

Hunter and Crosshair shared a concerned look, but they followed in their brother’s insistent footsteps through the jungle yet again.

--

Emerie led the way to the vault, with Echo walking a few paces behind.

Echo took in the corridor awash with red beams of light. “The kids who are held in here, where’d they come from?”

“The Empire used bounty hunters to retrieve them. Their genetic material was required for certain medical testing. I didn’t know about them until recently. I couldn’t help them. Until now.” Emerie paused by the vault door.

“Well, how do the two of them fit into all this?” Echo asked as he thought about you and Omega. “These kids, are they like-”

“I believe they could be, yes. As for Omega, she’s vital to Hemlock’s main objective for the Emperor. Project Necromancer.”

“And (Y/N)?”

“Hemlock wanted her blood for the same purposes as these children, but he also had ulterior motives that his focus has shifted more towards. He stopped taking her samples a while ago.”

“Shifted to what?” Echo asked warily.

Emerie swallowed, “He wants her to join his operatives. He thinks he can… condition her the same way.”

All of what Emerie said made his blood run cold. “Don’t like the sound of that.”

--

“Everybody good?” Omega asked to the group behind her as they all squeezed along the path she had found to their destination.

“Bayrn’s getting restless. H- He won’t be quiet for much longer.” Jax warned.

“Don’t worry. Things are about to get very loud anyways.” Omega stopped and peered through the slats in the wall and saw that the Zillo Beast and the number of personnel watching it was still the same as what it had been when she’d first came upon it. “Wait here.” She removed the grate and sneakily clambered out and made her way to where the controls that were keeping the beast contained were situated.

However, just as she reached it and was determining which buttons did what, she heard Bayrn’s wails echo throughout the chamber, and she knew she had to hurry. She sussed out what controls would get her what she needed and when the button lit up and she pulled on the lever, she heard the winning sound of the system powering down.

As the troopers rallied to try to contain the now very awake and active Zillo Beast, she darted back and hid with the others in the wall once more and had the joy of watching her plan come to fruition.

The chaos and destruction that unfolded was something she knew Wrecker would be proud of.

--

Emerie opened the main vault door but was taken aback by what greeted her. “What’s going on in here?” She inquired as Dr. Scalder was escorted past- groaning and clutching at her head. But what concerned her more was the intense conversation occurring between Dr. Hemlock and Scorch.

“Omega and the specimens have escaped.” Hemlock informed her, rage simmering in his voice. “Due to Dr. Scalder’s incompetence, they exploited a weak point in within the walls. She will be dealt with.”

Just as he said that there was an intense rumble that shook the entire facility and the lights flickered off and on again.

“The Zillo’s loose in the containment level.” Scorch revealed as the information came through his comms.

Whatever was happening had not been what he’d anticipated, clearly, he’d been wise to seek the information from you and Tech, it was just an unfortunate setback that he had been unable to acquire it but no matter, he was still in control. Now that he knew Omega was out, he could go back to what he already knew about their ways. “Shut down the reactor and send a diversion to secure the transport hangar.” Hemlock said sharply. “Check on SP-42, Dr. Karr. Then find Omega. Consider your fate now tied to hers.” He exited the vault.

“SP-42?” Echo murmured, already knowing and fearing the answer.

“Yes.” Emerie confirmed quietly as the other troopers departed. She waited until everyone else left before she spoke to Echo in a louder voice, “I don’t understand. Where could the children have gone?”

Echo may not have understood a lot about the goings on in Tantiss but there was one thing about this that he did know for certain. “Omega. She released the Zillo.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because it’s exactly what I’d do.” He replied with a cheery sense of pride. “She’s splitting their numbers and creating a diversion. Come on.”

The two of them jogged out of the lab and Emerie led the way to you.

--

Echo followed Emerie as she took another sharp turn down a corridor and then opened a set of doors that led to another small, tight corridor with a door a few metres down.

Emerie rifled through one of the compartments in the walls outside the cell and took out your lightsaber which she clipped to her belt before she grabbed the proper medkit. Then, she grabbed a small set of keys from her person and cautiously opened the door, “(Y/N), it’s Emerie and Echo. We’re here to get you out.”

Echo’s mouth went dry as he saw you for the first time since Teth and he took in the dirtied and blood-stained uniform. It was definitely better that he found you like this instead of Hunter but even then, he was still having to steady his own breathing.

“Emerie, I don’t mean to tell you how to do your job, but you’re supposed to stick me with the needle before you say things like that.” You croaked through dry and cracked lips as you kept your eyes shut.

Echo took in the mix of fresh and fading bruises on your face and the way your body was racked with exhaustion. Emerie’s prior information did not even come close to accurate- this wasn’t conditioning, it was torture. “You just allowed this to happen?” He questioned angrily as he snatched the key from Emerie and strode over to your slumped form.

“Oh, now that’s good. He almost sounds like him.” You complimented with a weary sigh.

“I didn’t mean to- Hemlock- he was-” She stopped any attempt at defence because no matter what, she’d played a part in this. “I did what I could to help her.”

“Open your eyes and look at me.” Echo implored as he undid your chains and took off his helmet.

“No.” You whimpered. “It’s a trick. It’s always a trick.”

“It’s not a trick.” Echo reassured you as he rested both hands on your shoulders. “Open your eyes.”

“Echo doesn’t have two hands.” You said, aggressively shaking your head as you kept your eyes tightly shut.

“Look at me.”

“No.”

“Look at me.” Echo pleaded. Time wasn’t on his side here and he needed you back with them.

He sounded so real; you couldn’t help yourself. You slowly opened your eyes and took in the familiar face and the eyes that were filled with worry as they looked at you. “Echo?” You whispered; your tone filled with uncertainty.

“Yeah, it’s me.”

“You’re here? This is real?” Even though Omega had told you this would happen, you hadn’t allowed yourself to fully believe it.

“It’s real. And the others are on their way.” He confirmed with a small reassuring smile.

You flung your arms around him and as he returned your embrace, you already began to feel more alive than you had since arriving here.

“Come on, we gotta get you on your feet.” Echo supported you as you shakily stood up.

“Where’s- where’s Omega?” You said through gritted teeth as your body protested the movement. You knew she had a plan of her own but with Echo and Emerie here, you had to wonder why she wasn’t with them.

Emerie gave you a round of E-bacta shots to get you closer to the level of fitness they needed you to be.

At the first injection, you automatically flinched away from her and into Echo’s side.

Emerie paused and chastised herself for being so thoughtless. She held up her hands in a pacifying gesture and apologised, “Sorry. It’s just bacta to help you heal quickly.” But she waited for you to give the okay before she went any further.

You regarded her suspiciously and made no moves to allow her to carry on. You were on edge, just waiting for the familiar effects to set in and for this to all come crashing down around you.

Echo felt your body go rigid as you leaned into him. He’d never seen you like this and it unnerved him. He was so used to seeing you remain unphased, no matter what came your way. Whatever torture Hemlock had done to you had left far more than physical marks. “I saw her grab the med supplies. She wants to help.” He reassured you gently.

You glanced at his face but saw honesty and so you nodded to Emerie to continue.

Once you were more relaxed, Echo answered your question. “Omega’s already helped us out. Her plan to release the Zillo Beast has worked very well so far. Their forces are a bit stretched and frantic at the moment.” He informed you proudly.

“Oh, she’s brilliant.” You murmured with affectionate admiration.

Echo nodded in agreement as Emerie finished tending to you.

“Hey, wait a minute, you do have another hand?!” You gawped before wincing as the final injection entered your skin- the pricks were still a painful reminder of what you had endured here.

“Not exactly the time for that.” Echo reminded you.

“We cannot linger here. We need to keep moving.” Emerie agreed hastily as she put the medical supplies away.

You nodded sheepishly. “Yup, you’re right, you’re right. Keep that for later.”

Echo picked up his helmet and put it over his head. “Can you walk?” Echo asked.

You rolled your sore shoulders as you took a steadying breath and nodded. “The bacta is working. Let’s go.” You called on the Force to help you find that extra bit of strength as you all exited the cell.

--

The three of them stopped again and Crosshair used his binoculars to scan ahead. He saw a squad of troopers with lurca hounds and everything he’d been trying to supress since arriving back here came rushing back. His hand trembled and his breathing came to him in short pants. He couldn’t do this. His brothers couldn’t do this; he wouldn’t let them. “They’ve got heavy patrols guarding the perimeter with lurca hounds.”

“Told you we should’ve brought Batcher.” Wrecker joked feebly, groaning in pain and bracing himself against a tree. He noticed the helmeted looks of concern that were sent his way from both his brothers. “Stop looking at me like that! I’m fine!” He insisted through another groan.

“No, you’re not.” Crosshair disagreed strongly. “Change of plans. You two, head to the communications array and try to contact Rex.” He drew his sniper rifle. “I’ll infiltrate the base myself.”

“Not happening.” Hunter objected.

“Yeah, we’ve handled worse situations than this. Countless-”

“Wake up, Wrecker.” Crosshair snapped. “Clone Force 99 died with Tech.” His voice dropped slightly, “We’re not that squad anymore.”

Wrecker and Hunter reflected on that for a moment and Crosshair was right, they weren’t, it was true. But they’d become something more, hadn’t they? Something that meant far more than just a squad title for a war effort. And Tech, alive or dead, was a part of that too.

“I’ve been inside that mountain. I know what we’re up against. If we all go in, we’re not all making it out.” Crosshair continued. “(Y/N) and Omega need you both. So, I’m doing this alone. It’s- it’s what I deserve.” He said, almost to himself.

Hunter wasn’t going to accept that or even entertain the possibility. “Don’t even think about Plan 99, Crosshair. They need all of us, and so do those clones.” He stood facing his brother, so he knew, even with his helmet on, that he meant every word.

“We’ve always known the risks. And so did Tech.” Wrecker placed a hand on Crosshair’s shoulder.

The sounds of the lurca hounds in distress got their focus back and Hunter looked through his binoculars just as the hounds were running away from their handlers.

“What’s going on?” Wrecker asked.

A deep banging and screaming of dying troopers answered his question as the Zillo Beast emerged from the base with a piercing roar.

Crosshair knew that could only be the result of one of three people. “Whose handiwork?”

“Omega’s.” Hunter and Wrecker said in unison.

“If she’s giving us a way in, let’s not waste it.” Hunter said before setting off towards the base again.

--

Satisfied that it was safe to emerge, Omega removed the grate and led the way over to the ladder that ran up the entirety of the base.

“You want us to climb up t-that?” Jax asked nervously.

“The Zillo got out this way. So can we.” Omega replied but she saw a familiar but fearful reluctance on Jax’s face. “What’s wrong?” She asked kindly.

“I’m not good with heights.” Jax admitted. “I- I guess I’d make a poor soldier.” He said shamefully.

Omega’s eyes softened. “My brother Wrecker hates heights too. And he’s the strongest soldier I know.” She touched Jax’s shoulder in reassurance, “Just stay focused on what’s ahead, not what’s below.” She waved them all over and led the climb up the ladder.

--

“The Zillo breached the bay doors and fled to the jungle after wiping out two full divisions of troopers.” Scorch said as he entered the control room. “We need reinforcements.”

Hemlock kept his hands behind his back but clenched his covered hand into a fist. “Send the shuttles after the Zillo.”

“But, sir, without air support, the rogue clones could exploit our weakened defences.”

“Of course they will. Do it.” Hemlock strode out of the control room.

--

Hemlock entered the training room and powered up the system. Even though he hadn’t wanted to use them just yet, the situation called for it and it was time they had a true test. Even though they’d only come up against you, Hemlock had no doubt that they were ready and could get him the results he needed. He watched with a dark smile as they emerged from their capsules.

He said nothing to them yet, he just motioned for them to follow him out but as he did so, he was interrupted by Scorch again.

“Sir, the Jedi has escaped.” Scorch told Hemlock. “Should I send a squadron to look for her?”

Hemlock massaged his gloved palm harder as he felt that rage flare up again but then a remarkable sense of calm overcame him, and a new idea emerged from the clarity. Perhaps this was the way to go after all. “No need, Commander. Send a squad to accompany the operatives to the hangar bay and when she is found, I want her alive. I want all of Clone Force 99 alive.” He nodded to his soldiers to leave for the hangar.

Now, you all would do the work for him.

All he had to do was wait.

--

The three of you waited until the corridor was clear before you followed Emerie around the corner and down towards another door.

Emerie slid her datapad into the panel and programmed the door to open, but it only opened a fraction before the system shorted out.

Echo peered through the gap and saw the wreckage ahead. “We’re on the right track. Omega definitely came through here.”

“And went where? How are they getting around unseen?” Emerie asked.

Echo followed up path of chaos up the way. “What’s at the top of this shaft?” He moved out the way so Emerie could look.

“It leads up to one of the transport hangars.”

“Any chance you know a shortcut?” Echo checked.

Emerie nodded and made to leave the area.

You didn’t follow them, instead you puffed out a short breath, “This isn’t going to work.”

Echo and Emerie paused and looked back at you.

“I can’t stay with the two of you. The fact we haven’t been caught yet is incredibly fortunate but the longer I’m with you, the more likely it is that’ll happen. We can’t risk either of you being discovered.”

“Well, what do you suggest?” Echo asked.

“You two can go find Omega and those kids, I’ll find Hunter and the others.”

“You don’t know the way.” Emerie pointed out.

“Sure I do.” You motioned through the gap in the door. “Just follow the mess and head straight up, right? I can get there quicker than you can now that I’m free and feeling a lot better.”

“There will be soldiers and you’re not 100%. And there’s no clear way through either.”

“I’m a lot more capable when I’m not bound and tortured.” You argued pointedly.

“It’s still not a viable-”

“Echo…” You tilted your head in his direction. “Please tell her.”

Echo nodded to you and then spoke to Emerie, “She can do it. Plus, you won’t really be able to stop her. There are only two that could, one of them is somewhere in this base and the other is doing his best to get here.”

“He’s right. You’ve helped heal me and I think you’ll find I can be far more stubborn and irritating when I’m not in a permanent state of pain.” You said with a simple shrug.

Emerie sighed but conceded the matter. The debate wouldn’t get them anywhere and, thanks to the bacta, you were on the mend. Plus, you had skills that would aid you in this task. “Very well. You’ll need this.” She handed you your weapon.

You took your lightsaber from her with a nod of thanks.

“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry. I should’ve done more to stop him.”

You offered her a slight smile. “Well, you did stop me bleeding out that one time so…”

Emerie wasn’t about to let you let her off the hook so easily. “I should’ve done more.” She repeated seriously.

“You’re doing more now.” You said, dipping your head in acceptance of her words.

Echo rested his left hand on your shoulder. “Be careful.”

You placed your own hand on his upper arm. “You too.” With that, you used the Force to widen the gap in the door and hurried through it.

Echo and Emerie began their more traditional route.

--

You took in the levels of destruction ahead of you and you had to hand it to both Omega and the Zillo Beast, they definitely didn’t do things by halves.

Calling on the Force, you jumped to the next highest safe point you could reach, and kept that going when you could, climbing quickly when you couldn’t, and the hangar was drawing closer by the minute.

You knew it wouldn’t be long before you saw them again.

But you also knew it would be far from over when you reached them.

--

Blasters drawn, the three of them had managed to reach the transport hangar and sneak their way in. The entire hangar was decimated, with bits of it’s interior now reduced to piles of scrap metal. Fires were dying all around them.

Just as Hunter was assessing the situation, he dodged the blaster bolt aimed right at his head.

They all took cover behind some scrap metal and looked ahead at the emerging squad of troopers.

“What now?” Wrecker grunted.

Crosshair was the first to peer out and he saw the stormtroopers but that wasn’t what unnerved him. The sight of four operative soldiers standing on a pile of wreckage is what alarmed him. They couldn’t handle this.

“How many?” Wrecker asked as he saw Crosshair press himself back against the scrapheap.

“Too many.”

“W-we can take ‘em.”

Crosshair steadied his shaking hand. “No we can’t. Not in your condition. We need to fall back.”

“Crosshair-” Hunter tried to argue, not trusting that Crosshair was planning.

“Go! I’ll be right behind you.” Crosshair placed a sticky bomb on the end of his rifle and fired it at a fixture hanging over the main area of the transport bay.

As they began their retreat, the troopers starting firing on them and advancing towards them.

They could only be on the defence as they fired back.

--

You heard blaster fire above you and- breathing hard after the strenuous climb- with one final jump, you reached the ruined transport hangar. Some wreckage blocked your path but you used the Force to push it out your way and the sight that greeted you had your stomach lurching. Troopers were everywhere and, although you had been blindfolded the entire time, you knew the four armoured soldiers making their way through the hordes of soldiers were the operatives Hemlock had pitted you against and were what he wanted you to become. You knew yourself that you still weren’t ready for this type of combat, but you couldn’t do nothing.

You took a revitalising breath as you centred yourself and blocked the lingering pain you were feeling from your mind before you ignited your lightsaber, the shining blue blade giving you that added strength you needed.

With a Force-aided leap, you sailed over the heads of troopers and placed yourself between them and the clones behind you.

--

For a moment, time stood still.

Hunter stopped falling back as he heard that familiar ignition sound and his head snapped towards the source and his breath caught in his throat as he saw you.

It was you. Standing in a soiled prison uniform but in a wash of blue light that stood out from the ember flames was you.

However, something was off as you blocked the blaster fire and struck down the troopers around you. Your movements weren’t quite as fluid or easy as they typically were. You moved stiffly, almost cautiously, and it was obvious to him that you were hurting. He could only let the worst imaginings take hold of him as he thought about what had happened to you and his blood boiled as anger raged through him.

Hunter got a hold of himself and fired at a trooper that was taking aim for your back.

At the sound of a body dropping next to you, you turned and followed the path the shot took, and sharp gasp left your throat.

Everything else around you slowed down and faded into the background as you caught his helmeted gaze. The paint, like his brother’s, had been stripped from his armour, but it was him. He could wear a hundred disguises, decorate his armour in a hundred different ways and you’d know it was him. You’d know him anywhere.

Time swiftly righted itself swiftly again once Crosshair’s bomb went off, shaking the already weak integrity that remained of the hangar. The entire room trembled.  

You cut through the final trooper before you turned off your saber and jumped over the falling ceiling beam. You saw the top of where the hangar bay doors used to be begun to collapse which threatened to block their way out and so you called on the Force and held the structure in place. You could buy them enough time to get out and then you could follow.

But you sensed the oncoming threat a second too late.

One of the larger operatives tackled your waist and you both went sliding along the floor.

--

Hunter and Wrecker watched as the once steady structure started to fall once more. Clearly, whatever help you were providing was no longer available. Now, the approaching gunship was their main concern.

Hunter shoved Wrecker out of the line of fire but the resulting explosions behind him threw him across the room where he clattered into a heap of wreckage and the knock-on impact from the blast saw more falling pieces land on top of him. Darkness engulfed him.

Crosshair killed the pilot and began to run over to the two of them.

Wrecker dashed over to where his brother had fallen, “Hunter!” He removed the metal and picked him up, but he didn’t get very far before a weighted bolas wrapped around his legs, causing him to trip and drop Hunter.

Crosshair caught up to Wrecker, holstered his sniper rifle, and took the vibroblade from the side of Wrecker’s leg and worked on cutting through the rope but he saw another operative heading straight for him. He wasn’t able to draw his blaster in time. The blow landed and sent him careening backwards.

Wrecker couldn’t do anything to help his brother either. The operative that had tripped him up and hit Crosshair now towered above him and pressed his electrostaff straight into the gash in his chest and the pain was excruciating. His entire body was engulfed by the electric current and he didn’t have the energy to fight against the man above him or the hurt anymore, it all got too much, and he succumbed to the darkness.

Stars danced in front of Crosshair’s eyes as his back hit against another piece of debris and his head snapped back against the metal, but he saw that Wrecker was in trouble and he made himself stay awake as he searched for his weapon which he saw a few metres to his right. But his attempts to grab it were thwarted instantly. Crosshair groaned as a foot stamped down on his wrist before he could reach his blaster.

CX-2 caught the vibrosword from his counterpart before he looked down at the pathetic form beneath him, “You should be more careful with your shooting hand.”

Those were the last words Crosshair registered before he saw the blade descend and he felt a deep, searing pain and his sight went black.

--

You and the operative that had attacked you had been engaged in a fight all on your own whilst that had all gone down.

The operative had gained the upper hand in the tussle and your lightsaber had escaped your hold in the struggle.

Right now, you were doing your best to stay conscious as the operative straddled your chest and wrapped his hands around your throat, squeezing hard.

You powerfully facepalmed the underside of his chin so his neck whipped back, stunning him for a second but it was a much needed second.

With that second, his hold on your neck loosened and you were able to remove his hands from you. You pushed him off you and to the side of your body where, with a ragged breath, you got to your feet.

You stomped down hard on his stomach as he attempted to sit up. With one hand, you used the Force to keep him flat on the ground- his futile struggles spurring you on. With the other hand, you called your lightsaber to your it and activated your blade as you swung it down…

“Stop.”

Your blade hovered over the operative’s chest as you angled your head in the direction of the recognisable voice. Your breathing left you in short, uneven pants as you glared at him.

“Surrender or his head goes next.”

Your mouth went dry as you saw what the operative from Pabu was talking about. Crosshair’s shooting hand had been cut clean off and now the long vibroblade weapon was resting over his neck.

“Put your weapon down, or they all die.”

You scanned for the other two and saw another operative standing over Wrecker with an electrospear pressing down on what appeared to be an open chest wound and Hunter lay limp and unmoving on the ground.

The only reassuring thing about this situation was that they all were still breathing. Unconscious, but still alive. And that’s how you wanted to keep them.

You clenched your jaw and ground out a defeated breath as you disengaged your weapon and released your hold of the soldier beneath you.

Your operative got to his feet and snatched your weapon from you and, with a hard punch to your jaw, took your arms behind your back and held your wrists together in a strong and unnecessarily tight grip.

You were too dazed to do anything to resist it.

They moved you all out and back into Tantiss base.

--

Omega reached the top of the level that led to the transport hangar. As they’d all drawn nearer, they had heard the sounds of blaster fire, but it had all stopped now. She only hoped that meant Hunter and the others had gotten through.

She headed off for the hangar bay, the children following behind.

--

Echo and Emerie exited the lift and made for the but both of them slowed as they saw a group of operatives go down the corridor.

There were three soldiers unconscious on hovercrafts.

You were pushed along behind them, your arms held securely behind you by one of the soldiers, a fresh purple bruise on your jaw.

Emerie glanced at Echo and even with the helmet on, she could tell he was worried, “Is that the rest of your squad?” She asked as they all rounded the corner.

“Yeah.” Echo said, his voice low. “Where are they being taken?”

“I don’t know. But Hemlock will keep them well guarded.”

“I can handle that. But we have to find the children first.”

Emerie waited a second in case he wanted to change his mind. She could tell his mind was still with all of you, but he was pushing through for the current objective. “The science hangar is up ahead.”

--

Omega guided the others into the room and took cover by a crate as they all took in the destruction. Whatever had happened here wasn’t solely due to the Zillo Beast anymore- a firefight had occurred here too.

“Do you see your squad?” Eva whispered to Omega.

“Not yet.”

“Hey! You don’t belong here. Call it in.”

Omega jumped to her feet and started to back away from the two troopers, but two stun blasts shot above her head towards the men. She turned back around to see her rescuer was another stormtrooper.

“Causing chaos, Havoc 5?”

“Echo?” Omega gasped happily.

Echo removed his helmet and smiled, “Hey kid.” He then saw more children come out from behind Omega. “And other kids.”

“The shuttles in bay four are still operational.” Emerie informed him as she came back from checking them out.

“You’re helping us, Dr. Karr?” Eva said in surprise.

“I am. But we must hurry.”

Echo put his helmet back on and he and Emerie led the way to the shuttle at a run.

As they reached the shuttle, Omega paused and looked around her. “Wait. Where are Hunter, Wrecker and Crosshair? And (Y/N), we’ve got to free her!”

“We got her out, but we split up and now, they’re all detained together.” Echo told her.

“You mean captured?”

“For now.” Echo turned to Emerie and slotted his blaster under his arm. “Can you fly that shuttle?”

“Yes. Why?”

Echo brought out a datacard and gave it to her. “Take the kids to these coordinates. We’ll meet you there.”

Sami, Jax and Eva all looked at one another anxiously.

“You’re not coming with us?” Jax asked Omega.

“There are more prisoners inside, including my family. I can’t leave without them.” Omega welcomed their group embrace and rubbed Bayrn’s head. “Don’t worry. Emerie’s taking you someplace safe. We’ll meet you there.” The kids let her go and stepped away.

“Here.” Emerie passed her datapad to Omega. “This will help you access all wings of the facility.”

“Look after them.” Omega instructed her sister.

“You have my word.” Emerie promised. She placed her hand on Omega’s shoulder. “Be careful, Omega. And…” Emerie took a short breath before she shared her final bit of what she hoped was useful intel. “And if you can, check out the maintenance closet in the prison level. It isn’t what it says, Hemlock spent almost as much time there as he did with your Jedi friend, and he didn’t tell me why. But he never did anything without a purpose. He’s hiding something there; I just don’t know what.”

‘Tech was more resistant to my methods this time.’ Hemlock’s words echoed in her head, and she couldn’t help it, theories and hope started to stir in her. She nodded to Emerie before she and Echo took off back to the base and back to the rest of you.

“You ready?” Echo asked as the door opened just as the shuttle with Emerie took off and away to safety.

She’d succeeded in her initial objective. Now it was time for the next one. “Let’s complete the mission.”

--

This was no nightmare.

This was no illusion.

This was no trick.

This was not a figment of your imagination.

You were not under the influence of any injection or serum.

There was no denying what you were hearing and seeing now.

There was no blocking out this type of agony that you were experiencing.

Hunter’s moans and screams of pain as the electricity crackled against his temples and jolted through the rest of his body were real.

It was all horrifyingly, heartbreakingly real.

And no matter how much you struggled against your captor’s hold, you were helpless to do anything but watch and listen.

There was no convincing yourself that it wasn’t happening.

And you knew would do anything to make it stop.

Hemlock studied the room. Your hands were now bound in cuffs in front of your body, but one operative still kept a vice-like grip on your shoulder. Hunter and the others were in their capsules, bound and powerless. Crosshair and Wrecker were still unconscious, and Crosshair’s right wrist was being sealed off by a droid. He ignored you for the moment, your time would come soon, for now, his attention lied with Hunter. He signalled for the machine to be turned off.

Hunter panted heavily as the torture finally stopped. Everything hurt, his limbs burned, his head felt like it was going to explode- and that was just from this. He could still fill a deep soreness in his ribs from the blast in the hangar bay. And right now, it may have stopped but he still felt the current in his veins, so the pain endured. He could barely keep his eyes open. He attempted to free his hands from the binders, but they were too tight. Then, he heard Hemlock’s cool, quiet voice.

“The last time we crossed paths, you had just lost a member of your squad. And it appears history may repeat itself. CT-9904 resisted my conditioning in the past, but I’ve made alterations to my methods. Something your… partner can attest to. If you all survive, you will make fine operatives.”

Hunter followed Hemlock’s gaze to where Wrecker and Crosshair were and the wave of guilt that he felt upon seeing what he’d brought on them made way for new type of hurt to enter the mix. Then his sights found yours and he saw the fear and distress in your eyes at Hemlock’s words. He had rarely seen you look so genuinely terrified and yet whatever else Hemlock was talking about got that from you.

“No!” You shouted as you violently fought against the hand holding you back. You couldn’t bear it if they suffered that fate or had to go through anymore of this.

Hemlock ignored you and approached Hunter. “And if not, well, there’s no shortage of clones to test on next.”

“We’ll survive. But you won’t.” Hunter said with as much strength as he could muster.

Hemlock regarded the clone pitifully and indicated to the operative to start the process once more.

Hunter couldn’t help the anguished shouts that left him as he felt that electric fire deep in his body once more, each nerve felt like it was burning away.

“Stop! Stop hurting him!” You cried out as you pulled against the hand on your shoulder. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from him. You wanted to take his pain away.

Hemlock turned to you and hummed out a pleased laugh as he saw the torment on your face. He had you right where he wanted you. “Do you know I finally figured something out?”

You breathed heavily as Hemlock touched the recent bruise on your jaw but did nothing to stop him in case it made things worse for the rest of them.

“You didn’t succumb to my methods because they weren’t real. I was foolish to think a Jedi such as yourself would be so easily fooled by mind games. You needed the element of doubt removed and look at the results. One glimpse of the real thing and see how you quickly you fall apart.” Hemlock said smugly.

You weren’t looking at the doctor, you were looking past him to at the man you loved with every part of you.

The man who had brought you into a crazy, wonderful family.

The man who had shown you more patience and care than you had ever deserved.

The man who had enabled you to open your heart to everything he had to offer and who had shown you that attachment could be a beautiful thing.

The man who had your heart and soul.

But was now being put through the worst kind of pain he could experience.

And then you looked to the others. To the ones who had welcomed you instantly and who had risked everything for you and Omega and who were now hurting and endangered because of it.

And it was tearing you apart. “Just let them go. Let him go. Stop this, Hemlock, please.” You choked out.

Hemlock nodded again to get the operative controlling the machine to stop. He wanted the clone awake for this.

Hunter gasped in limited relief as the electricity turned off once more. He fought through the pain to keep his eyes open as he saw Hemlock beside you, a cruel yet somehow gleeful smile on the man’s face that worried him in a way he hadn’t experienced before. There was something deeply unsettling about the sight of him standing so close to you like that.  

“You know, from our time together, I can see why you would fall for her.” Hemlock commented to the clone. “She showed remarkable durability and resolve. She was quite a challenging subject.”

Hunter clenched and unclenched his hands as he watched Hemlock. It wasn’t just the physical torture that had his body feeling this much pain. After what you’d told him about Christophsis, he’d never wanted you to go through that hell again, but you had. He’d been far too late.   

“But of course, such feelings are a weakness, all too easy to exploit. Oh, you should’ve heard her cry out for you, just begging me to end your suffering.” Hemlock pretended to ponder the next decision. “Then again, perhaps you can.” He stood in front of you.

Your blood ran cold as you saw the look in Hemlock’s eyes.

“You wish for his pain to stop?” Hemlock asked you, a wicked and calculated smile on his face.

“Yes.” You said, your voice scarcely above a whisper.

“Beg.”

“No.” Hunter rasped as he heard the demand.

You shoved down the bile that rose in your throat at the thought. “Please.” You breathed.

“Not so resistant now, are you?” Hemlock taunted cruelly. “But I don’t think you mean it.”

“Don’t do it.” Hunter ground out weakly.

But you would. You would do anything. You kept your attention on Hemlock. “I’m begging you, please, please don’t hurt him anymore.”

“More.” Hemlock commanded, enjoying the distraught etched on your face and the pathetic attempts the clone gave at breaking free to stop this.

You didn’t need the pressure on your shoulder that came from the operative by your side. You did it freely. You didn’t care about the humiliation, you only cared about making it end. On your knees, you glanced up at Hemlock, your voice hoarse as you pleaded, “Please. Please stop hurting him. I’ll do whatever you want.”

Hemlock caressed the side of your head. “You know what I want.”

The sight of you begging on your knees for that man caused him more pain than any machine could. Hunter, as weak as he was, still attempted to get out of his prison. You shouldn’t have to do this, not for him.

You did. You knew precisely what he was after, but you automatically shook your head in refusal.

Hemlock simply snapped his fingers.

Hunter tossed his head back and writhed and yelled in pain as the electricity coursed through his body once more.

“No, stop! Please!” You begged. You couldn’t take it anymore.

Hemlock held his hand up and it ceased once more. “Well?”

You swallowed tightly. And it wasn’t just Hunter you wanted to save; you had a family you needed to protect. “I join you, they don’t.” You negotiated quietly, hating the words as they left your mouth.

Hemlock considered the options in his head. Getting a Jedi under his command would be yet another testament to his work and that was worth more to him than these clones. It was a sacrifice he could make. “Join me and I will allow them to remain prisoners here. No conditioning required.”

You knew that was the best you were going to get for them right now. You squeezed your eyes tight as you resigned yourself to what you were about to do and ignored Hunter’s pained and faint protests. “I’ll join you.” You barely got the words out, but you’d said them now. You opened your eyes to that sadistic and twisted grin, the one from your nightmares. The one that he'd wear once he made some kind of monumental breakthrough in his research. And this time, it was warranted. He’d done it. He’d finally broken you.

Another Imperial entered the room. “Doctor, there is an incoming transmission from Governor Tarkin.”

Hemlock signalled back to the operative stood by Hunter’s capsule.

A raw and tormented scream left Hunter’s throat as his senses were overloaded once more.

You rushed to your feet and went to lunge for the doctor, but the operative held you back. “No! You said-”

“Think of it as a reminder of what will happen if you change your mind.” Hemlock said icily as he left the room.

If it weren’t for the bruising grip on your upper arms, you would’ve collapsed to the ground, but you were left with no choice but to stand there and live with what you’d decided and to hear Hunter’s cries.

--

The lift opened to the prison level and before the troopers on guard had time to react, Echo shot them both. He picked up the loose blasters and he and Omega advanced down the corridor.

More troopers came at them, but Echo easily took care of them whilst Omega slid the datapad into one of the terminals.

“Hey, kid. What’s going on?”

Omega turned to the clone that addressed her from behind his cell door. “We’re breaking out.” With that, she programmed all cell doors to open. “Here.” She tossed the clone a spare blaster she had acquired. “I’ll look for the others.” She told Echo, mentally including the so-called maintenance closet in that statement.

Just as she looked down one corridor, she saw another familiar face. “Nala Se!” She ran over to the Kaminoan.

Nala Se knelt down to the girl’s level. “Omega, why did you come back to this place?”

“I had to, but it’s okay. We’re all getting out this time.” She reassured her old mentor before she carried on past her, anxiously scanning for any sign of you all.

--

Omega hadn’t seen any of you, but she had found the door Emerie had referred to. She knew perhaps the hope she was feeling in her heart was foolish, but she couldn’t help it, it was who she was. And she’d rather know for sure than spend the rest of her life regretting that she never tried. She held her breath as she opened the door.

Omega��s exhale left her with an indistinguishable surprised and elated sound as she saw the figure.

He may have a supportive brace encasing his entire right leg.

He may be without his goggles.

He may look dishevelled and weary.

But there was no mistaking his face.

This was her brother. The brother she never thought she would see again. The one that had given up everything for them. Yet, somehow, he was standing there before her.

Omega stared at the man that had turned to face her when the door opened. “Tech?” She gasped, scarcely believing it. She needed him to speak, to confirm that she wasn’t seeing things.

Tech’s eyes widened in shock. He hadn’t dared take Hemlock’s words as the whole truth, but he recognised the child immediately and… and he felt alive again. “Omega?”

Another joyful sound left her throat as happy tears welled in her eyes. She dashed forward and wrapped her arms around his waist.

“Did it not work?” Tech whispered as he rested his hands on her back. He recognised the prison uniform. And he didn’t remember a lot since Eriadu, especially with the months spent enduring Hemlock’s manipulations, but he had thought the rail car had gotten away at least.

“No, it- well-” She stopped. “The main thing to know is Crosshair did betray the Empire and he’s back with us. We can catch you up on the rest once we’re out of here.”

The news about his brother made him sigh in relief. They had been without Crosshair for far too long and Hemlock’s lies had been the only moments he had to imagine what having him back would feel like but the happy emotions it brought had all been spoiled and tainted by Hemlock’s cruelty. Now, he could allow himself to feel that happy again and he could be confident in knowing it was true. Then, he remembered the last part of Omega’s statement. “Out of here?” Tech repeated, the very concept had felt like a distant desire for such a long time.

Omega smiled at him, “Come on, Echo is waiting. We’re breaking everyone out.”

Tech released a long, relieved breath, “An excellent idea.” He concurred. He followed her- a slight limp in his gait now- out of the cell that he hadn’t been sure he’d ever leave.

--

“We gave up hope that anyone was coming to help us.”

Echo held his helmet and addressed the clone that had first spoken to Omega when they’d arrived, “We’ve been looking for this base for a while.”

“Echo, I searched all the cells. They’re not here. But I did find someone else.”

Echo turned at the sound of Omega’s voice but what he saw had his jaw dropping and his helmet fell from his grasp. He said nothing as he walked towards his brother and clasped him close. “I don’t believe it. How- I mean- you called out the plan- we saw you fall.”

Tech hadn’t quite expected the hug, but he welcomed it all the same. It felt good to accept that fighting against Hemlock this time had been worth the pain. This was a truth he could trust. “You forget that my intelligence did not cease to exist after I shot that connection hinge.”

Omega smiled as she heard that loveable cockiness in his voice.

Echo released his brother but kept his eyes on him. “Are you okay?” He asked, voice fuelled with concern.

Tech grew more solemn again. “As much as could be expected. However, I’m afraid to say that I have failed our squad. Hemlock, he wanted information about you all. I resisted when I could but- but his methods were rather… effective at getting the results he wanted.”

Echo had seen what Hemlock’s methods could do so in a short space of time and Tech had been here for months. So, the very fact that he had even held out at all was something to admire. “Don’t worry about that.” Echo reassured him. “All that matters is that you’re alive.”

Tech gave him a grateful bow of his head before he straightened his spine. “I see that I am not the only one with a new look.” He commented lightly, gesturing to his brace and Echo’s mechanical hand.

Echo allowed himself a short chuckle, “Yeah, well, the situation called for it.”

Tech nodded in understanding before he scanned the group of clones around them all. “But where are the others?” Tech asked, fully realising that amongst these newly freed clones, there were four faces that were missing. And the worry that flashed across Echo’s face did nothing to ease his own anxieties.

Giving Tech’s shoulder one final squeeze, he spoke to the rest of the clones surrounding them. “The rest of our squad were grabbed by Hemlock’s operatives. Where else would he take them?”

“Well, they could be in the training room. It’s where Hemlock conditions the clones he deems useful.”

“I think I know where that is.” Omega said, grabbing the datapad. “Follow me.”

“Are you joking?” Rampart shoved past Echo. “The wisest course of action is to leave while we can.”

Echo glared at the man. “Clones don’t leave our brothers behind. And Hemlock’s also got someone who is just as important to us as any other clone.” He moved Rampart out the way and kept his speech for his fellow clones. “Listen, I know you’ve all been through enough. You deserve your freedom. But Omega and I can’t do this alone. Is anyone willing to stand with us?”

The clone that spoke to Omega spoke first, “I will. I’ve got one more fight left in me.”

That spurred others on. Soon more rallying shouts were declared throughout the group.

“Good.” Echo said appreciatively. Then he turned to Tech and took a reluctant breath, “Tech…”

Tech recognised that look but hearing that the rest of you were in danger had his loyal and protective instincts as a member of this squad come rushing back to him. “I want to go with you.” Tech insisted. “They need our help.”

“You’re not 100%. We lost you once, it’s not happening again.” Echo said firmly. “Get the injured to the hangar and secure a shuttle. You can help them there.” He gave Tech a spare blaster. “We’ll see you soon.”

“Very well.” Tech said with a heavy sigh. Deep down, he knew that his current situation made him more of a liability for such a high stakes mission. He needed to recover properly and get back to form and he could start by helping the rest of these clones.  

Echo put his helmet on once more. “I’ll trigger an alert in a different wing and reroute their troops. The rest of you, grab any weapon you can.”

Tech led the way with the injured, hoping that this would all come to a better conclusion that Eriadu had.

Before Omega left with Echo and the rest of their team, Nala Se’s voice stopped her.

“Omega, I must not allow my science to remain in the Empire’s hands.” She knelt down and placed a large hand on Omega’s shoulder. “The only way you will be free is if Hemlock is gone and the databanks are destroyed.”

“Then let’s get to the lab.” Omega said determinedly.

“No. Your place is with them.” Nala Se nodded to the clones.

Omega dipped her head in both a farewell and in understanding. “You’ll need this.” She gave Nala Se the datapad and watched her walk away before she joined up with Echo and left the cells.

Rampart watched the scientist go, a fresh plan of his own forming in his head as he made to follow her.

--

Hemlock walked back to the training room, working on dampening his simmering anger and irritation. The conversation with Tarkin had not been a productive one and now he was faced with having to deal with the lousy Imperial face-to-face.

He had it under control. Tarkin would just be another nuisance he had to deal with.

--

“The training floor’s two more corridors over.” Omega said to Echo as they eliminated the guards by the hall terminal.

Echo used his scomp to bring up schematics. “The pneumatic tube system runs throughout this base. Think you can use it to get eyes inside that room?” He opened a panel in the walls.

“It worked in the vault.” Omega ran over to the gap and crawled into the narrow space.

“Relay what you see, but stay out of sight until we’re in position.” Echo ordered before she disappeared. He handed her a comm.

“Rodger that.”

--

Nala Se had taken a grenade from a downed trooper as she made for the lab. She had accepted what her course of action would lead her to.

Covertly following her, Rampart grabbed a blaster from another body.

--

Nala Se entered the lab but just as she finished bringing up the databank and blood samples, a blaster clicked behind her, and she was staring down an unhappy looking Admiral Rampart. She activated the bomb behind her back, no one was going to stop her from doing what needed to be done. And if she took this Imperial down with her… well, that was an added bonus.

--

Omega peered out into the room from behind the ceiling grate. All was quiet. You were standing up, your hands in binders with an operative holding on tight to your shoulders, whilst the others were knocked out and in some type of capsule prison. “Echo, I have a visual on them. There’s an operative on guard but I don’t see the others.” She whispered into her comm. “I might be able to free them if you give me a big enough distraction.”

“We’re on our way.”

--

Echo and his group of clones entered the training room but as soon as they entered, the lights dimmed, the floor lit up in a harsh red light and parts of the floor rose up to form obstacles. They were ambushed by the other operatives in seconds.

--

You couldn’t understand why the operative holding you suddenly let you go to activate the downstairs area, but the sounds of blaster fire soon told you why.

You hoped Echo’s plan was going to work.

--

Omega managed to sneak into the room without incident. She caught your eyeline and motioned for you to be quiet as she went over to the main control box. She worked on Wrecker’s first, and she succeeded in removing one of the wrist cuffs. Before she could work on anything else, she felt eyes on her and she let out a fearful gasp as she saw the operative staring at her.

You acted quickly. You ran in front of the operative and saw your lightsaber attached to your belt. You lunged for it but with your hands bound, you were limited in what you could offer and a powerful kick to your chest sent you tumbling to the floor. Winded and gasping for air, you could only watch as Omega’s stun blasts did nothing to stop the advance of the soldier and he took a hold of her arm and dragged her into the centre of the room. You got to your feet just as Hemlock entered the room with the operative from Pabu.

“A glaring weakness in clones is their loyalty to one another.” Hemlock said to the young girl. “Thank you for proving my point.” Then Hemlock beckoned you over to him as you both walked towards the window.

“Now that you’ve joined our ranks, perhaps it is time to see what sort of matters you will have to deal with.” Hemlock said to you. He wouldn’t free you yet, not until he knew for certain that this matter was officially over and dealt with. Your attachment for the clones remained and therefore the margin for error was still too great so for now, you remained in cuffs and his prisoner.

You forced yourself to ignore Omega’s shocked gasp as she heard that.

“Shall we see if they fare better than you did?” Hemlock allowed the firefight to continue for a couple minutes before he pressed the buttons that would introduce his special toxin into the room.

You could only watch on in horror as the clones without helmets started to cough and choke whilst they desperately clutched at their throats before they collapsed to the ground.

“Perhaps an unfair comparison given that I didn’t use this for you but alas, sometimes such things are necessary. You will find that often the most pain gets the quickest results, but with your skills, you will make quick work of things, I am sure.”

“You joined him?” Omega said in dismay.

“I had to.” You croaked, your throat closing up as everything you loved fell apart around you.

--

Having entertained Rampart and his delusions of Imperial redemption for long enough, Nala Se didn’t fear the blaster bolt that entered her chest and as the light faded from her eyes, she took comfort in the fact that this final act of hers would bring peace to Omega’s life.

Rampart heard the rapid beeping of the grenade that rolled free from her hand as she fell, but before he could do anything, his life left him in a flash of blinding white light.

--

Having been the only one with the safety of a helmet to resist the gas, Echo was on his own against the three operatives.

He staggered forward as a knife entered the back of his shoulder. His blaster was knocked out his grasp, so he used his mechanical hand to defend against the swings of the sword from the operative that had cut him, and he succeeded in throwing the black-armoured clone against one of the walls, so his helmet came off and he too feel victim to the gas.

However, Echo didn’t have long to recover before he was knocked to the ground but just as he reached for his blaster, it was kicked away, and he glanced up to see another operative pointing a blaster at his head.

--

Hemlock kept his sights on the scene below. “Their efforts have failed.” Hemlock stated. “Predictably so.”

You were shoved back to stand in the middle of the room with Omega.

Omega glanced at you, but your face was a blank slate. Your posture was slumped and heavy with defeat. You had no fire, no fight in you.

“Sir, there’s been an explosion in the central lab. It’s been destroyed.” Scorch revealed as he entered the training room.

This news snapped you out of your fatigued and defeated state. Hemlock wasn’t untouchable and he knew it. You remembered the nervousness you’d picked up on when he’d first told you they were coming to the base, and you saw the way his body tensed after Scorch’s words. For all his victories and apparent calmness, he knew you were the people that could get to him which was why he’d done everything he could think of to tear you apart. The thoughts sent a surge of strength and resolve through you. What the fuck were you doing? This was your team, your squad, your family. You’d all never stop fighting for each other so why had you? You’d given up so easily and that wasn’t who you were, how could you have lost sight of that? You glanced over to Omega and nodded.

Omega felt hope rise in her chest as she saw the familiar spark and determination in your eyes. She then stole a look behind her to see Wrecker slowly waking up. “You failed too.” She said smugly to Hemlock. “Your data’s gone.” And she wasn’t just talking about the samples, she knew Tech was safe too.

Hemlock whipped his head around to face the two of you. He had what he needed; he could start again. “But I still have you both.”

Picking up on Wrecker’s movements too, you got ready to fight once more. “Hey, Hemlock?” You waited until his eyes arrived on you. “Go to hell.”

Hemlock glowered at you but before he could do anything more, Omega spoke once more.

“And you’re forgetting one thing. We have them.” Omega said proudly.

Chaos erupted.

Wrecker ripped himself free of his capsule and used the portion covering his legs as a shield against the blaster fire before he launched it towards the operatives, the impact of the piece of metal against one of the control towers took down the entire system in the process.

Crosshair and Hunter groggily woke up their confinement also loosened.

Wrecker shakily got to his feet and pushed against the electrospear that the operative shoved towards his chest. He ignored the pain of the electrical current and kept his focus entirely on meeting the soldier strength for strength.

You dashed over to Hunter and rested your bound hands just beside his head “My love, I need you to stand for me.” You murmured with urgency. You placed your hands under his neck and then moved them gently still to his upper back to support him.

Hunter strained to open his eyes as he took in your still slightly blurry form, but he never failed to recognise you or your voice. He nodded and inhaled sharply as he slowly rose with your encouragement.

Whilst you did that, Omega made a break for a loose blaster, but Scorch grabbed her. She struggled against him, but she was forced to stop as Hemlock paired them together with a set of cuffs.

“We’re leaving. Get the Jedi.” Hemlock said to Scorch, passing him a hypodermic with a sedative inside it. He then snatched a blaster from CX-2 as well as the set of controls he kept on his sleeve for his ship. “Deal with them.” He directed the operative before he dragged Omega out,

Scorch came over with as he saw you attempting to aid the clone sergeant to his feet. He speedily stabbed the needle into your thigh and pressed down on the plunger.

You reacted swiftly and slapped his hand away before you landed a kick to his gut, but you felt the broken skin and as you removed the needle from your leg, you saw that the tip of it was wet, and you knew that you hadn’t been fast enough. Some of it had entered your system. A wooziness overcame you and you swayed on your feet as you fought against it.

Scorch recovered from the blow you dealt him and as he saw the unsteady way you stood as well as the lack of clarity behind your eyes, he knew he had done enough to get you compliant. He grabbed your wrist and forced you out of the room as he hurried to catch up with Hemlock.

--

Seeing that Hemlock was escaping with you both, Wrecker thrust the spear above him and kicked the operative back.

Hunter wearily worked on standing up straight and finding the strength to go after you and Omega.

“Get them back.” Wrecker said to Hunter before he let out a roar and charged at the operative he’d been fighting. He tackled his waist and smashed through the cracked window.

--

The gas dissipated and Echo glanced up to see the glass of one of the windows had cracked and there were flashes blaster fire. Whatever was happening above him was the disruption he needed.

And that distraction developed as Wrecker came crashing through the window.

In the mayhem, Echo was able to divert the blaster pointed at his head to the second operative standing behind him and take cover. Even with one operative dead, he was still outnumbered but two more rounds fired past him to disband the operative forces. Echo turned and saw that Wrecker- despite being flat on the ground- had been the one to fire the shots but he was still in danger. Echo fired a series of shots to the operative that Wrecker had forced out of the window and that operative also fell dead to the ground.

But Echo couldn’t ease up. Another operative had recovered from the disruption and attacked them again. Echo opened fire back as he took cover behind one of the obstacles.

Wrecker was slower to react. The shot he took to the inside of his leg as he rolled for shelter was yet another painful sign of how out of it he was. But he needed to get it together, Echo still needed him, and he wasn’t going to let his brother down.

Echo carefully moved around the room. He knew there were two operatives remaining and they made themselves know quickly. Now that the danger of the gas was gone, he had removed his helmet to aid in his breathing but as he walked around the side of one of the wall obstacles, a wave of blaster fire was sent in his direction, and he quickly pressed himself back against the wall. He searched for another way to somehow get behind the operative who had fired on him but as he did so, he felt a threat approaching his own back. As he turned, he saw the operative with the vibroblade weapons lunge for him and his blaster wasn’t primed to take the shot to stop it.

With a loud shout, Wrecker got to his feet and picked the operative up by the neck and smashed his head through one of the walls. That took up the last of his energy, his legs gave out and he fell to the ground with a deep groan.

Seeing his brother go down so heavily alarmed Echo deeply which was why he wasn’t the one to kill the final operative that had emerged. No, those shots came from one of the clones who had rallied by his side for this fight. He gave him a grateful nod before he knelt by Wrecker’s side. The clone could barely keep his eyes open, and he was breathing in short, sharp pants, his pain was obvious. “Wrecker, where are the others?” Echo asked as he looked on worriedly as his brother.

“They’ve- they’ve gone after-” Wrecker broke off with a low groan and couldn’t finish the thought. He was too exhausted and sore to focus on anything other than staying awake.

Echo put it together. “I can help you get there but I need you to get to your feet.” Echo urged as insistent but as caringly as possible, but Wrecker made no move to stand. “Come on, Wrecker, you can do it.” He thought of the first thing he could think of to get him there. “Tech’s alive. He’s waiting at the shuttle.”

“If that’s supposed to cheer me up, it’s a bad way to do it.” Wrecker managed to grunt.

“I’m serious. Omega found him.”

Wrecker glanced at Echo and a brief rush of adrenaline hit him as he saw the serious and honest look on Echo’s face.

“It’s true. I saw him.” The other clone added as he came over to offer his help.

Wrecker allowed himself to believe that because it was now the only thing giving him the strength to even think about getting up. With a determined moan, he got to his feet.

Echo, along with the other clone, supported Wrecker as they all made their way to the shuttle.

--

Hunter had managed to stand and grab the spear that the operative had left behind, but everything was still blurring together in one dark and incoherent shape. He couldn’t fully tell one sense apart from the other, everything was too sore and disjointed.

But he knew there was still an operative up here and he had to focus on finding him.

Crosshair was also beginning to get to his feet and as he saw CX-2 creep next to his pod and aim his blaster at Hunter, Crosshair kicked his arm which caused the shot to go array.

Tracking the sound, Hunter threw the spear in the direction it had come from and heard the sharp blade meeting it’s target as CX-2 was speared in the gut and the power behind Hunter’s through saw doubly sure that he was dead as he was flung back into the power grid and electrocuted.

Hunter grabbed the fallen rifle and spoke to Crosshair through gritted teeth, “I’ll go get them. You should stay here.”

“Not a chance.” Crosshair grunted as he properly got to his feet.

Hunter picked up a second blaster and handed Crosshair the sniper rifle.

Supporting each other, the two of them hobbled out the room to go catch up with you and Omega.

--

The night air was cold as a storm raged on.

Thunder rumbled above you.

Lightening flashed through the black clouds.

The pouring rain pelted against your skin.

The wind whipped across your face.

But as unpleasant as it was, it did help get you out of your sedative state. You just had to wait for the right moment and so long as Scorch had a blaster pressed to your back and Omega was cuffed and attached to Hemlock, it wasn’t the right moment, so you pretended to still be as compliant as you had been when being led through the corridors out of the training room.

Hemlock led the way across the exposed and narrow walkway towards the landing platform. He was almost there. He could rebuild once he got away. He ignored the girl’s struggles and protests as he dragged her further along and pressed the button on the control sleeve that would bring the ship to them. Just as the ship was preparing to land, two blaster bolts hit the right and left engines and the ship erupted into flames.

You used as your moment to take care of Scorch. You smacked the back of your head into his visor and turned on your heels to grab his blaster.

In the push and shove struggle, both of you teetered towards the edge of the bridge. One particularly nasty shove from Scorch saw to it that you fell over the top, but you still had a hold of his blaster, so he toppled over with you.

You just about managed to take a scrappy hold of the one of the bars that formed the boundary of the walkway, Scorch fell past you into the abyss below. The metal was slick against your fingers and being cuffed wasn’t making holding on any easier, your grip was haphazard at best. Which was why you weren’t surprised that you couldn’t keep a secure hold and you slipped downwards, your fingers catching the edge of the platform.

You saw the scene unfolding across from you and you wished there was more you could do to help but all you could do now was fight to keep your head up as your legs dangled aimlessly. You called on every piece of strength you had to hold on and wait this out.

--

Hemlock thrust Omega in front of him and wrapped his arm around her neck as he held the blaster to her head. You were out of the picture for now, his main adversaries remained further down the bridge. “That’s far enough!” He threatened as he saw the clones

Hunter shook the rain from his eyes as he and Crosshair paused to figure out the next best course of action. He had to trust that you would hold on for long enough. Right now, his priority was Omega. He knelt down and kept his blaster trained on Hemlock.

Crosshair did the same, only he rested his rife on Hunter’s shoulder as he peered down his scope.

The two of them synchronised their breathing as the storm echoed around them but that didn’t distract them. Their entire focus was on the two people down the walkway.

“You won’t get past them.” Omega said, no fear in her voice.

“They won’t risk hurting you.” Hemlock said through heavy breaths. “And it’s not only you they have to consider.”

“Neither will you. You need me alive.” Omega countered. “And she’s a lot stronger than you think.” She said, knowing that no matter what, you would be fine.

Hemlock brought her to the edge of the bridge opposite to where you were hanging. “If I go over, then you go over.” He then bellowed down to the clones, “Drop the blasters!”

But Omega wasn’t going to entertain that outcome. Hemlock’s arrogance would be his downfall. She reached into her sleeve and grabbed the tool she had stolen from Emerie’s supply kit.

--

Hunter saw what Omega was doing and understood her plan. “Shoot the binders.” He told Crosshair.

“I- I- I can’t.” Crosshair stammered. He had rarely practiced with his left hand as the trigger hand and these conditions were less than ideal to make such a precise shot. “They’re too close. If I’m off- I can’t risk Omega.”

“She knows what to do, Crosshair.” Hunter said. He trusted Omega and he trusted Crosshair. He had all the confidence that his brother could make the shot. “Wait for her, then take the shot.”

Crosshair let that faith and his own desire to rescue Omega guide him as he rested his finger on the trigger. He could do this. He knew he could. He inhaled and exhaled steadily as he waited on her.

--

Omega stabbed her implement into Hemlock’s thigh and used his surprise to step away from him and she raised their cuffed hands in the air.

When Crosshair’s shot met it’s mark and separated them, she crouched down as she heard six shots hit Hemlock’s chest and she watched his body fall over the side.

--

Releasing a thankful sigh, you braced yourself on your forearms as you worked on hauling yourself back up. You felt a supportive hand tug at your arm and angled your gaze to see Omega doing her best to help you back onto the bridge.

Once safely situated and cuff free thanks to Omega’s tool, you stayed propped on your knees and braced your hands on your thighs as you caught your breath and looked at the young girl and all it took was that glance from you. She crashed into you, and you squeezed her close. “Are you alright?”

Omega squeezed you back and nodded into your neck. “Yeah… I’m okay.” She said through an exhausted but relieved sigh. “Are you?”

“Yeah, kid, I’m okay.” You said, your throat tightening as you realised what was about to happen next. It had been the thing that had gotten you through every night since arriving here. And it had been the thing you had so nearly given up and lost.

You both pulled apart at the same time.

You got to your feet and followed her gaze towards the two men still kneeling further down the bridge. You didn’t need to check with her, you both started running together.

Naturally, you reached them just before Omega did and you didn’t really slow down in your approach.

With adrenaline overpowering your own lingering pain and tiredness, you- getting caught up in the excitement of seeing Hunter again- foolishly forgot about his injuries and all but launched yourself at him. You collided against his chest with a happy cry and flung your arms around him and pulled him close to you.

“Ow ow ow.” Hunter mumbled with a sharp wince as he braced himself against your strength, but he couldn’t help himself, he clung to you just as tightly.

“Shit, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” Your words were muffled from where you pressed your face in the crook of his neck. You went to pull away instead, but he wasn’t letting you yet, in fact he readjusted his hold to keep you right where you were.

Hunter breathed you in and let himself get lost in the feeling of holding you and feeling you against him. The familiar shape and scent of your body providing him the comfort and security he needed to alleviate part of the pain he was feeling with his senses. He nuzzled into your neck and used one hand to cradle the back of your head whilst his other arm still kept you tight to him.

The two of you held onto each other like you were terrified it was all a dream and you might be taken away again. The bridge was cold and wet against your legs but after all that had just happened, it hardly mattered now. The rain continued its deluge against your body, but you didn’t care. All you cared about was this moment right here and now.

Only when his body did truly start to protest against the strain, did Hunter relax his arms.

You released your own arms and hid your face in your hands as the emotions of the time that had passed hit you all at once. Sobs mixed with laughter left your throat and racked through your body as you realised that he was safe. That Omega was safe. That they all were safe.

Hunter gently took your hands away and carefully held your bruised face. He used his thumbs to softly wipe some of the rain and tears running down your cheeks. He brushed some wet strands of hair tenderly away from your face before murmuring, “I love you.” A kiss to your forehead. “I love you,” A kiss to your cheek. “I love you,” A kiss to your other cheek.

You stared into his brown eyes as you got yourself under control and they grounded you so completely as you saw the feeling behind them. “I love you too.” You gasped breathlessly. You threaded your fingers in his damp strands and-more mindful of his injuries- leaned forward.

Hunter went to close the gap but the sound of someone managing a strained but somehow still very pointed cough caused you both to stop and you turned your head to see Crosshair and Omega waiting expectantly.

“What? No hugs for us?” Crosshair said with a light-hearted, albeit pained, smile at the two of you.

You huffed out a chuckle and together, you and Hunter slid into their embrace, and you all wrapped your arms around one another. You shared in that moment until Omega decided to break away.

You all got to your feet, but you noticed how unsteady both Crosshair and Hunter were.

With Omega looking out for Crosshair, you focused your attention on Hunter. “Lean on me.” You instructed him as you placed his arm around you, and you took on his weight as you all made your way to the transport hangar.

--

You all reached the shuttle and slowly walked up the ramp but the person you saw tending to Wrecker’s wounds had you all forgetting any remaining aches and pains.

All three of you inhaled sharply and stopped short. You shared a look to make sure you were all in agreement with what- or rather-who you were seeing.

“Yeah, you’re not seeing things.” Wrecker told you all with a cheery disposition.

Echo had a small yet delighted grin on his face as he took in the stunned yet happy reactions from all of you.

“Oh… did I not mention that?” Omega kidded, a joyous smile on her own face.

“Tech?” Crosshair all but whispered.

“You’re alive?” You and Hunter said together, emotion overwhelming both of you as you spoke.  

“You sound surprised.” Tech said with a small smile. What did catch him by surprise though was the way he was dragged into a large group hug with all six of you.

And as the shuttle took off and you all had that minute together, you were hit with a remarkable sense of home.

--

The shuttle landed in Pabu and the rescued clones steadily departed the shuttle first.

Echo, Omega and Wrecker were the first of you all to leave with Echo wanting to check on Emerie and Omega wanting to check on her friends from the vault.

Tech made to go too but hesitated as he caught the attention of a familiar face.

Phee’s eyes widened. She walked up the ramp and took in the messy yet totally recognisable man in front of her. “Well, brown eyes, it’s about damn time.”

Tech made to adjust his non-existent goggles but caught himself. “I was- uh- rather occupied for a while.”

Phee raised her chin and smiled. She came up the ramp and linked arms with the clone. “Now your survival is an adventure I want to hear all about.”

You could’ve sworn you saw the faintness of blushes on Tech’s cheeks.

“Well, it involved a grappling hook and some pretty fast thinking. I was falling…”

You, Hunter and Crosshair watched them walk away and you caught the completely astonished expression on Crosshair’s face. It was possible he was more taken aback by that than by seeing Tech come back from the dead.

“I have a question.” Crosshair asked as he stared at the fading figures.

“What’s that?” You said, pretending to have no idea as to why he looked so bewildered. You welcomed Hunter’s arm that looped around your waist and the look he gave you told you that he was willing to play along.

“We just spent the duration of that journey getting medical attention and catching Tech up on everything that had happened since you all ignored Plan 88, right?”

“Right.” Hunter agreed, ignoring the playful jab.

“And I was on Pabu and with you all a good while before everything went to shit.” Crosshair said.

“Uh huh.” You concurred, a slightly teasing smile on your face as you waited for him to get to the point of his question.

“So, please explain to me why no one thought to tell me about that.” He pointed with his left hand towards Tech and Phee. “Since when did Tech get- I mean how- just what exactly is that?”

“Oh… that.” You feigned a sudden realisation. “Huh, I guess they did get pretty close whilst we were staying here. How many dates was it before we had to leave, Hunter?”

Hunter matched your teasing tone. “Yeah, I don’t know. At least three or four- not that Tech truly realised that’s what they were. We really didn’t tell you?” He asked Crosshair, a smirk on his face.

“You two are impossible.” Crosshair groused before he walked down the ramp, muttering under his breath.

You laughed quietly as you watched him leave.

Hunter let out a low chuckle too as he brought you in closer to his side and he pressed his lips to the top of your head before you both walked out the ship.

--

Emerie observed the children from afar and was pleased to see them chasing the animals of the island and interacting with the Omega and the other young clones. “They’ve adapted quickly.” She said as Echo approached her side.

“Kids are resilient.”

“A childhood’s not something we ever had. Our lives have never been our own.”

“Until now. I’m heading to Pantora to help get some of the clones settled. I’m sure Senator Chuchi would find whatever you have to say very helpful for our cause.”

“I have a lot to make up for. I’d like to help out however I can.”

Echo rested a hand on her shoulder before he made for the shuttle once more.

Emerie followed a few paces behind.

--

As you and Hunter were making your way from the shuttle, Omega called out your name.

You paused and turned to see she had brought a group of kids over with her.

“These were the children I was telling you about. This is Eva, Jax, Sami and Bayrn.” She introduced each child in kind before she introduced you and said to them, “And this is my friend I told you about.”

“Hello.” You said warmly as they looked at you, both with curiosity and nervousness.

“I um, I filled them in on everything. I hope that’s okay.”

You nodded. “You contact Rex, I’ll catch up.” You said to Hunter whilst Omega went to go find Batcher. You crouched down in front of the remaining children. “Omega told me a lot about you too. I hear you all helped with her escape plan, that’s pretty impressive.” You said sincerely, keeping your voice tender and kind.

“Omega was the one that led it. It was all her. We didn’t do too much.” Jax said.

“A team is only as good as everyone in it. You all had a part to play, and you did it well.” You cleared your throat as you readied yourself for the next part. “Now, I know Omega has told you that I’m a Jedi, and did she tell you what that means?”

All of them nodded.

“Okay, that’s good. And I have to ask, have any of you ever like an object moved without you touching it, or you were somehow able to jump higher than you expected?”

You knew Baryn couldn’t really understand and wasn’t paying much attention as he babbled away in Sami’s arms, but you figured he was there for the same reasons as the rest of them nodded again.

“We’re going to look out for you whilst we work on getting you back to your families, but life will always be a bit different for you now, and you’ll still have to be careful. But I can teach you some things whilst you’re still here that should help and once you’re home, if you or your parents have any more questions, you’re welcome to come back.” You offered, smiling at them as they nodded. “Alright, that’s all from the grown up for today. Carry on exploring.” You said fondly before you stood up and went to rejoin Hunter and Omega

--

You, Hunter and Omega had taken up position by the weeping maya tree with Batcher lying by Omega’s side. You all watched as the clones walked around freely and the children from the vault got to enjoy being kids once more and it was a delightful sight to take in.

“With Hemlock gone and his data destroyed, they’re finally safe.” Omega said with relief.

“Mm-hmm.” Hunter agreed and released a relieved sigh of his own as the impact of that statement properly hit him. “And so are both of you.”

“Will it take long to find their families?”

“Rex and I are working on it, but we’ll look after them until then.”

“And that brings the adoptive parent tally up to eight- nine including Gungi.” You kidded affectionately before you laid down next to Hunter and rested your head in his lap.

“Like you didn’t just offer them that exact thing whilst I was speaking to him.” Hunter retorted playfully as he brushed the backs of his fingers across your cheek.

You stuck your tongue out at him before the sound of the shuttle powering up grabbed all of your attention. You raised your head and saw Echo getting ready to depart with some of the clones that wanted to continue the fight. All four of you dipped your heads and smiled in farewell.

“What about the rest of the clones?” Omega asked as she watched the shuttle leave. “Will they stay here on Pabu?”

“Well, it’s up to them. They’re free to follow their own path.” Hunter exhaled tiredly but kept his voice light as he said, “We’ve all fought enough battles for one lifetime. Now we get to choose who we want to be.”

“Like what?” Omega asked.

You smiled at Hunter and placed your head back down in his lap. You closed your eyes and let the sun’s warmth seep into your skin.

“Whatever we want, kid.” The girl leaned against his arm and his voice and face softened at the action, “Whatever we want.”

Then, as the Tech, Wrecker and Crosshair came to sit down with the three of you, Hunter stared down at your utterly content form and stroked a hand past your brow and through your hair.

He had a pretty good idea of what he wanted to be next.

Post S3 oneshot>

Tagging: @noeasyisnoisy, @arctrooper69, @andreaaxy, @notgonnaedit, @dominoeffectsworld, @allthingsimagines , @nightmonkeysstuff , @jellybeanstacey0519 , @callsign-denmark , @superbookishhufflepuff , @qvnthesia , @justsomerandompersonintheworld

[artofmaquenda]

These pins 'Get Out' carry so many meanings for me. Today, as I reflect on my time in art school, they feel especially resonant. The pins depict canines desperately trying to escape a box, a box that might be self-made, imposed by society, or both. After all, one rarely exists without the other.

When I started art school, I was a different person than I am today. Looking back, I wonder how things might have been different if I had the skills and self-awareness I’ve gained since then. As a highly neurodivergent person, I struggled with invisible walls, barriers within myself that made it hard to express or even fully understand who I was. These struggles weren’t new. Even before art school, in high school and other environments, I often felt isolated. I couldn’t communicate or express myself in a way people seemed to understand.

That persistent loneliness led me into unhealthy situations, ones I’m still untangling and accepting. When I was very young, I became involved with an older, neurodiverse adult who was also deeply damaged and alone. I struggled to connect with people my own age because of how isolated I felt as a neurodivergent person, and his love seemed like something I couldn’t find elsewhere. In many ways, it was real. But it wasn’t good. It wasn’t right. It’s a complicated mess that no one seems to understand beyond the surface-level reactions: “That’s gross” or “That’s wrong.” And while those things are true, the situation was far more layered. It was born from two deeply lonely people trying to fill voids they didn’t know how to face.

While this feels like a detour from the topic of art school, it’s all part of the same thread: a lifetime of feeling misunderstood and unseen, and the complicated ways I tried to navigate that pain.

Art school, in many ways, amplified these struggles. It’s not that I want to blame art school entirely. It was mutual interaction, between me and the system. But I came in with certain hopes. I longed for a place that felt like home, where I would meet like-minded people and be embraced for who I was. Instead, I found an environment where intellect, pretentiousness, and an obsession with dissecting art seemed more important than passion, joy, or the raw drive to create.

Art, to me, has always been a refuge, a space where I could be authentic without needing to justify myself. In art school, I was met with something entirely different. The teachers seemed locked into their own boxes, continuing the rigid structures of the schools and galleries they’d been shaped by. It felt like they couldn’t see or value anything outside of that mold.

I struggled because I couldn’t explain why I made the art I did, I just did. And yet, there was relentless pressure to intellectualize everything. They wanted a rationale for every line, every theme, every choice. For someone like me, a visual thinker who often can’t find the words for my emotions, that demand felt suffocating. I’ve always struggled with the idea of intelligence as it’s commonly understood, measured by how well you can articulate your thoughts in a neat, linear way. I often saw myself as “stupid” because of my silence, or my chaotic, ADD-fueled way of jumping from one thought to another, made it hard for people to follow me. They didn’t understand how deeply I felt and thought in images, patterns, and emotions, and I didn’t have the tools to explain it. It wasn’t until much later that I learned there are different ways of thinking, and that my way of processing the world is just as valid, but they’re so often misunderstood or dismissed in society. That dismissal reinforced the feeling of inadequacy I carried for so long. It’s something I still struggle with today, untangling that internalized belief and reminding myself that intelligence isn’t one-size-fits-all.

Even worse, there was no empathy. While I don’t expect teachers to understand every student’s trauma, or even what it means to be neurodivergent (I certainly had no idea!), the complete lack of care was devastating. Many of us came in carrying pain or challenges that we didn’t have the tools to handle yet, but instead of support, I was met with ridicule and it made me even more afraid to trust people. Art school was supposed to nurture creativity, but instead, I felt like they were trying to shape me into their idea of what “art” should be.

That environment, with its rigid structures and narrow perspectives, left me feeling incredibly disabled and deeply “not enough.” And yet, I realize now that I was trapped in more than one box. There was the box of art school itself, but also the mental box I’d put myself in masking, trying to fit in, and forcing myself to meet expectations that didn’t align with who I was.

Tearing down those walls is still something I’m working on, and it’s not easy. Years of feeling misunderstood and isolated don’t go away overnight. Therapy and self-reflection and psychedelics have helped, but there are moments when I still feel those old barriers.

'Get Out' is not just about leaving art school, it’s about escaping the constraints of every box, internal and external. It’s about reclaiming my authenticity, embracing who I am, and finding spaces where I can truly belong.

Despite all the isolation and struggles, I find it kind of beautiful that I even hoped and longed for things like acceptance, connection, and nurturing. It’s a reminder that you have to believe in those possibilities, even if they look different from what you’d imagined. I realized I have to deeply love and accept myself most of all, to be able to find what I'm looking for.

Finding them might not come in the ways you expect, but believing in their existence, even in new and unexpected forms, is a kind of resilience in itself.

[gaybd1]

“So… you’re really breaking up with me?” Zuko asked again.

“I mean, I guess. We don’t need this anymore, don’t you think?”

Zuko was more confused than upset. And wasn’t ‘we don’t need this anymore’ an odd thing to say about ending a relationship?

He looked back at Mai across the sofa they sat on, confusion still showing on his face. He could see a hint of exasperation beginning to make its way into her expression. They’d been having this conversation for a while already.

“I just… aren’t things going well?”

“Zuko,” Mai sighed and placed a hand on his shoulder, “You’re like my best friend.”

“Right, so..?”

“Not. A boyfriend?” She raised an eyebrow, hoping Zuko would be able to fill in the blanks.

Zuko knew his relationship with Mai wasn’t… typical. They didn’t kiss much anymore and had never even thought of doing anything beyond that, but it… worked… He valued their companionship.

“I just… why now?” He thought it was a fair question.

Mai huffed and stood up, turning to face him.

“Honestly, Zuko. I didn’t think this was going to be such a big deal. I just thought maybe we were both ready to move on. The world’s changed since you became Fire Lord, and I thought maybe it would be safe now for us to…”

Zuko blinked at her, still making it quite clear he had no idea what was going on.

“Look,” Mai sighed, sitting down to face Zuko on the sofa opposite his, “We aren’t in love, Zuko. We never have been.”

He sputtered, wanting desperately to protest, but finding he needed a moment to think about it. He did love Mai, definitely. He always would, just like he loved Azula. Being with Mai had always made sense…

“Zuko,” Mai pushed, “We’ve never been in love, right?”

“Maybe not…?” he admitted.

“It’s fine,” she waved her hand. “I don’t take it personally. I know you’re not interested in women.”

Zuko sputtered again. What? Of course he was… why wouldn’t he…?

“What?” he whispered. The truth was he’d never really thought about it.

“Zu. It’s fine. In case you haven’t figured it out, I’m not into guys either. That’s what I thought this whole relationship was about, actually.”

Zuko didn’t say anything. This was a lot to process.

Mai seemed to understand, sitting quietly until he was ready to talk.

“So…” he finally managed, “You’ve always…?”

“Yeah. It took me a while to figure it out, but definitely.”

“So you think if we break up now we could…?”

“No offense Zuko, but I’d much rather be with Ty Lee than stuck in whatever this is with you. I think we’re ready for it now. And you and Sokka—“

“WHAT?”

Mai sighed and put her head into her hands, staying like that for a moment while Zuko tried to figure out what the fuck was going on.

“Agni, Zuko. Sorry. I didn’t think any of this was new information to you,” she sat up and looked directly into Zuko’s eyes, “Yes, dumbass. The whole Nation knows at this point that boy is in love with you. He’s not exactly subtle about it. And everyone besides you seems to have the idea that you love him back.”

“But I’m not even…” Zuko was learning a lot about himself tonight, apparently. Could he be in love with Sokka?

He thought about it.

They were just friends, right?

Thought about the happiness that filled his heart every time he entered a room Sokka was in.

Good friends…

About the natural ease with which they spoke with and spent time together.

Close friends…

How he thought of his friendship with Sokka very similarly to how he thought of his relationship with Mai.

…Best… friends?

The desire that had crossed his mind on more than one occasion, which he’d tryed and failed to lock away completely, to grab, caress, kiss Sokka. But thoughts like that were normal every once in a while, right? Everyone had them. Except… he had them for Sokka more than he ever had with Mai…

“Oh shit…” he whispered, “I’m…”

“An idiot,” Mai finished for him.

That was not was Zuko was going to say, but he let it slide.

“I think we gotta break up,” he said instead.

[scorchieart]

⬥◇◆ Clothes Shopping with the Ikeprinces ◆◇⬥

With Act 3 and Silvio's route just around the corner, let's slow down, take a step back, and remember how we all ended up in here. Particularly, how we all ended up in these clothes.

Silvio’s Dubious Preorder ◆◇⬥

*the front door to the clothes shop opens in the middle of the night*

Shopkeeper: Who’s there?

Silvio: Your worst nightmare…

*Silvio drops a heavy bag of coins in the shopkeeper's hands*

Silvio: And your salvation.

Shopkeeper: What?

Silvio: Listen closely, tailor. Tomorrow you will be visited by a pathetic pack of princes with questionable fashion sense. They are in search of new outfits to wear for the upcoming story arc and have chosen your lousy shop as their genius loci. Lucky you.

Shopkeeper: …What?

Silvio: I’ll be in attendance as well, but I’m only interested in an outfit that’ll blow everyone else’s out of the water, so I’ll mostly be observing from the sides. All you gotta do is keep those other guys occupied and catch all the notes I send your way. You’re an experienced man, you’ll know when I’m dropping you a hint. But no one else needs to know about our little deal, capisce? 

*Silvio pats the coin bag and leaves. Shopkeeper puts on glasses and cleans out his ears*

Shopkeeper: WHAT?

⬥◇◆THE NEXT DAY ◆◇⬥

Judge Yves, Round 1 ◆◇⬥

Yves: As members of Rhodolite’s domestic faction, we are the pillars our citizens look towards to represent the values our kingdom instills in art, culture, and conduct. The outfits we select today must not only reflect the propriety expected of the royal family, but also that of our people for generations to follow.

Yves: Jin! Button your shirt all the way up right this moment!

Jin: You can’t cage the collarbones, Yves!

Yves: Leon! Too much detailing will overwhelm your conversation partners! You look like you’re drowning in gold.

Leon: But you’re talking to me just fine now?

Yves: Licht! You look wonderful, of course. But if I had to nitpick, the white on your lapels clashes with your black jacket. Try wearing more color, you don’t want to look like a walking chessboard.

*Sariel slowly backs into the dressing room*

Nokto Seeing Double ◆◇⬥

Nokto: No, this blue vest doesn’t bring out my eyes quite right.

*hands vest over to Licht. Licht tries it on*

Nokto: Hm… and these tassels make my face look too narrow.

*hands shoulder pads over to Licht. Licht tries them on*

Nokto: And these black gloves clash horribly with my hair, what was I thinking?

*hands gloves over to Licht. Licht tries them on*

Nokto: You look great, Licht. Ugh, nothing in this entire store works for me!

*a bag of coins flies across the store*

Silvio: Tailor! No vests, tassels, or gloves!

Judge Yves, Round 2 ◆◇⬥

Yves: Ahem! I’m only doing this because you four are an extension of Rhodolite beyond the borders, and I don’t want you messing up our image in front of our neighbors. It’s not like I particularly care how you dress everyday!

Nokto: Aww, Evie, you care~

Yves: Shut it! Ahem! For starters, the white theme you all have is a very nice choice. It’s a good idea to set up a visual indicator to let others know you’re working as a team.

Clavis: Oh, that wasn’t intentional. This humble shop is simply fortunate enough to have had enough pieces for each of us. Otherwise, these poor white coats would have been prematurely stained red! Hahaha!

Yves: Wha—?

Clavis: With strawberry jam, of course! Chev gets particularly pouty when someone wears white instead of him. I wouldn’t put it past him to “accidentally” sully that poor someone’s outfit with his toast.

Luke: That’s why I eat mine with honey instead!

Yves: No, that’s why we eat breakfast before we leave the palace! 

*Yves swipes the toast from Chevalier and Luke*

Yves: Luke! If you’re going to wear white, you can’t carry honeyed toast in your pockets!

Yves: Clavis! If you’re going to wear a coat over a jacket again, at least make them match in style this time!

Yves: Nokto! If you’re not going to button your vest all the way, you have to wear a shirt underneath!

*Chevalier covers his chest and slowly backs into the dressing room*

Small Talk Sariel ◆◇⬥

*In a quiet corner of the store, Keith looks over himself in the mirror. Sariel notices and joins him*

Sariel: Ah, a modest choice, Prince Keith. Were you to show Prince Yves, I am certain he would impart nothing but praise.

Keith: 🙂

Sariel: Modesty is, of course, cornerstone for a prince to emblem. Although, with our continent so rife with rowdy royals, one would not want to appear too humble, lest he be trampled by his more verbally-inclined peers.

Keith: 😐

Sariel: But too loud a statement piece would have a similar effect of disfavor among colleagues. One would not want to appear too brash in company of those whose opinions matter.

Keith: 😟

Sariel: Finding that sweet spot in the middle is crucial to deduce, and this is the moment to do it. Tell me, Prince Keith, is this the outfit you wish to present to the world in the next act?

Keith: Excuse me, I seem to have misplaced something in the dressing room.

*another bag of coins flies across the store*

Silvio: Make it loud, tailor!

Multi-talented and Multi-purpose Luke ◆◇⬥

Luke: Hey, Yves! How about this? I keep the lid open just enough to stick a spoon in like this, and my pockets get to stay completely… Hey, you okay?

*Yves blushes in surprise*

Yves: Yes, yes! Why wouldn’t I be?

Luke: Well, you’ve been standing by the hair accessories for a long time now.

Yves: Because there’s no one else here. I need rest from evaluating all your outfits, obviously.

*Luke puts down the honey jar*

Luke: Hey, close your eyes for a bit.

Yves: What for?

Luke: Just trust me. Besides, you said you wanted to rest, right?

*5 minutes later*

Luke: Tada! Whaddya think?

Yves: How did you…?

Luke: My sister used to make me braid her hair all the time. I’d say I’m pretty good at it, eh?

*Yves blushes in joy*

Yves: Thank you. But how did you manage to keep it in place? You didn’t use any clips or anything.

Luke: Oh, that’s ‘cause I packed it tight with honey. It oughta keep its shape all week, plus it’s good for the scalp. Bonus!

*Yves blushes in rage*

Life Lessons with Big Brother Jin ◆◇⬥

Jin: Hey, Chevalier. Come try this cloak on, it’ll help cover your…

*Chevalier quickly wipes his mouth and hides his hands behind his back*

Jin: …

Chevalier: …

Jin: Chev…

Chevalier: I was merely inspecting them for poisons.

Jin: Come on, big guy. We’ve been through this.

Chevalier: The showoff apprehended my toast. 

Jin: You can’t eat the roses.

Chevalier: …

Jin: …

Chevalier: The yellow ones taste best.

Jin: So you’ve told me.

*yet another bag of coins flies across the store*

Silvio: Bring me the juiciest rose you have! I know you’re keeping it from me!

Gilbert’s Infinite Hyperspace ◆◇⬥

Gilbert: Are you sure the shopkeeper won’t mind you making alterations to his designs?

Clavis: That wonderful man doesn’t need to worry about a single hair on his rapidly balding head! I won’t be defiling his style because all the additions I’m making will be completely hidden from sight.

Gilbert: How like you to run your dirty work in the shadows. Such fun.

Clavis: I wouldn’t use that particular arrangement of words to describe it, per se. But considering Sariel has egregiously forbidden me from purchasing more than one belt today, I am forced to improvise my carry-on capabilities.

Gilbert: Ah, pockets! How very fun, indeed!

Clavis: Not just any pockets! Secret pockets! And just look at this enormous canvas I have to work with! Only… my hands were full on the way over here carrying Chevalier’s breakfast, so I wasn’t able to bring much of my usual tools to measure. I don’t like leaving the palace without at least a net or two on hand.

Gilbert: You can borrow mine!

*Gilbert produces a large fish net out of thin air*

Clavis: How fortunate, this will work nicely! I do wish I could have brought my trusty shovel with me, though. 

Gilbert: Regular or extra large?

*Gilbert produces two digging shovels out of thin air*

Clavis: Ah... R-regular is fine…

Gilbert: Anything else?

Clavis: You’ve been plenty helpful, I couldn’t impose—

Gilbert: No need to be shy. You still have plenty of space to work with, I see. 

Clavis: …

Gilbert: Try me.

Clavis: …Well, I do like to be armed with more than just my sword—

Gilbert: How about this?

*Gilbert produces a hatchet out of thin air*

Clavis: … Thank you.

Gilbert: What are friends for?

*Gilbert claps his hands, taps his cane twice, and pulls a tiny comb out of the heel of his boot. He combs Clavis’s hair out of his eyes and walks away smiling as the largest bag of coins yet flies across the store*

Silvio: Secret pockets! But don’t tell anyone where they are, you hear? Not even me!

Doggy See, Doggy Do ◆◇⬥

Leon: Find anything you like, Rio?

Rio: Lots! But I’m just not sure she’d like them, too.

Leon: Why not show me what you got so far? I may not be Yves or Sariel, but I’ll bet I can point out a stinker in the mix.

Rio: Okay then. What do you think of this gilded vest?

Leon: Awesome! The color matches your eyes perfectly. That’s good… I think?

*Coin bag toss #1*

Silvio: Tailor! Look into my eyes and get me a jacket that matches them perfectly! No, not a vest! We said no vests!

Rio: Huh, that was weird. Anyway, what about this broach?

Leon: She’d love it! The looped design brings out the curves of your smile just right. That kind of attention to detail is probably really important.

*Coin bag toss #2*

Silvio: Tailor! Bring me your loopiest jewelry! The more hoops, the better!

Rio: Did you hear something? Ah, nevermind. Do you think I should go with one earring or two?

Leon: Hmm… Yves rocks the one earring look—

*Coin bag toss #3*

Silvio: Tailor! I want your gaudiest single earring in my palm right this second!

Leon: —but earrings are supposed to come in pairs, right? So maybe two would be fine. For symmetry, and all that.

*Coin bag toss #4*

Silvio: Make that two!

Leon: Sorry, I’m not too sure, to be honest.

*Rio knowingly smirks*

Rio: Your advice is great, Prince Leon. Tell me, what do you think of these snow boots?

Leon: Well, it’s not exactly winter. But they’re really a statement piece, and she might appreciate a good conversation starter.

*Coin bag toss #5*

Silvio: I need the furriest boots you’ve got in this place, pronto!

Rio: And this zebra-print cloak?

Leon: Chevalier looks good in tiger stripes. I guess that’s basically the same thing.

*Coin bag toss #6*

Silvio: Where do you keep the darn striped fabrics, old man?

Rio: Great! What’s your opinion on oversized hats?

Leon: Uhh… go big or go home?

*Coin bag toss #7*

Silvio: GO BIG OR GO HOME!!

Leon: Hey, Rio, do you hear an echo?

Rio: Nope. Just the sound of a nation’s GDP falling.

I wanted to add a joke about their gloves, but this post is getting way out of hand, even without puns.

Tagging: @queengiuliettafirstlady @violettduchess @venulus @thewitchofbooks @leonscape @rhodolitesrose @venti-tangents @dear-sciaphilia @ikesenwritings @myonlyjknight @ladyofcrowsx @otomefoxystar @my-day6

If you would like to be added or removed from my tag list, please send me an ask or a message.

[melishade]

I've been dissecting Eren for a good while in your fic, as well as his relationship with Optimus and from what I can tell. I don't think Optimus realized that Eren was a pretty selfish person. Sure, he cared for his friends and the world didn't really give him any reasons to care for strangers beyond showing human decency but... overall, he was someone who was too defined by the world's cruelty and how small he felt in it to truly see what the world could be than for what it is right now.

He and Optimus had different ideas of Peace and Freedom. Eren's idea for Freedom was one without boundaries and free of conflict because there was no one to cause it, thereby bringing peace while Optimus idea for freedom was one where people come together despite their conflicts and peace is when they find in it themselves to find harmony with one another, and Optimus failed to realise that because of his own habit of believing the good in people, especially in Eren, at least that's my conclusion.

Optimus wasn't wrong to do that but sometimes pain that turns into hatred in any form can override any good people have within themselves, and we don't always notice that no matter how much wisdom we have.

I'd like to hear your input on this since I REALLY want to hear you elaborate more on your version of Eren and the flaws in his relationship with Optimus.

As always, you are right on the money.

Although I will add to it.

So in An echo of the past, I've pointed out that Optimus sees a lot of Megatron in Eren. He sees the rage and anger and desire to achieve his goals. But he also sees that Eren does care about his friends and family and was also someone who went through an immense about of trauma. Optimus knew that Eren was capable of dark things, but he believed that with proper guidance, he could dissuade Eren from ever pursuing a course like that. He could prevent another situation like Megatron.

But Optimus got way too attached to Eren, and multiple situations kept on popping up that Optimus failed to see the darkness forming in Eren, or he was very adamant to see it. He didn't want to believe that history was repeating itself again. And if he failed to save someone from the darkness twice...what does that say about him?

I can't say much about the freedom portion because you hit the nail on the head. Because Optimus and Eren had different, opposing views on freedom, the two were always going to clash at some point. If it remained titans vs humans, Eren wouldn’t have gone AWOL. An apocalypse was a world he could handle. He grew up in it. But the moment the world got complex, he chose destruction. He chose himself. Optimus could never allow himself to be selfish because he understood the value of all living creatures. Freedom for all. In TFP, he sacrificed the revival of Cybertron, his home, for the safety of humanity. He didn’t care how openly the AOT world treated him, they all deserved to live.

As for Eren himself, he did care about Optimus and his friends and family, but he hated the fact that Optimus cared for the outside world. For people who would curse his name and spit in his face. They wanted to kill them and take away their freedom and Optimus wanted to reach a compromise?! Look how that turned out with Megatron! His home planet died and he had to go into exile. Yet Optimus holds onto the fleeting hope that there can be peace. Peace with them wasn’t going to be possible. Claiming freedom was the only option. That was the only way to live.

If I ever do Eren’s trials, Eren will learn that his way of freedom is wrong.

[astramthetaprime]

Smoke & Mirrors

When I was eight years old, my mother started taking me to a psychologist.

Each Tuesday morning for I think a couple of years, Mom would wake me up early so I could go in to work with her instead of sauntering my way around the block to school. It was fun for me, I got to help her firm’s mailroom girl on her rounds through the partners’ offices delivering the morning’s mail or copies of the Wall Street Journal. I got to buy sausage biscuits from the food truck parked just outside the building’s front door on our way into the building. Then at some point during the morning, Mom and I would leave to go several blocks away to the psychologist’s office for my appointment.

I remember I asked Mom once why I was doing this. I distinctly remember her saying that it was because I wouldn’t keep my room clean.

I took this at face value. It seemed odd but okay, I’m going to the shrink because I wasn’t keeping my room clean.

You take a lot of things at face value when you’re a kid, especially when it comes from your parents. Mom probably could have said it was because I had green eyes and I’d have shrugged and gone with it.

And that’s how it stood, for close to fifty years. I went to a psychologist for a couple years as a kid, nothing ever came of it, and it was largely forgotten. I’ve been to a lot of other therapists since then, with no substantial results.

A few days ago in another incidence of re-processing my past and present, I finally realized what was really going on.

I was in 4th grade, that year I was eight years old. As such, I was under the care of a saintly teacher by the name of Mrs. Covington.

I remember her very vaguely as being white-haired, wearing large glasses and probably long since past retirement age. I realize now that she must have had decades of experience as an elementary school teacher and had seen probably thousands of children of all stripes. She was “oldschool” in the truest sense, with a kind and perceptive soul. What she must have seen in me was an odd little girl with an obsession for Star Wars who awkwardly tried and repeatedly failed to make friends, who was good at spelling but rarely spoke, who spent a lot of time staring out the nearest window. Mrs. Covington must have realized there was something wrong with me, but had no specific word to call it and no idea what it was.

This was 1977. We wouldn’t know the word “autism” in the United States for another seventeen years. And I wouldn’t be officially called by that word for another thirty years beyond that.

But Mrs. Covington knew there was something wrong, and that little girl desperately needed a friend. So she took another little girl in the class aside and asked her if she would make friends with the odd, quiet little girl that nobody liked.

We were best friends – she was my only friend, and became so much more, things I am still discovering – until graduation and college and the sharp words of hatred separated us twelve years later. I’ll call her here by the nickname I gave her, Ace.

What I’ve only pieced together in the last few days was that Mrs. Covington must have spoken to my mother, told her there was something wrong with me, and urged Mom to take me to be evaluated by a child psychologist. Mrs. Covington must have been the source of those Tuesday mornings when I thought I was going to a doctor because I couldn’t keep my room clean.

In actual fact, I was going because my father had developed Multiple Sclerosis, my parents had abruptly divorced so he could get financial assistance so he could get into a nursing home, I’d become a latch-key kid and beyond all that I was too quiet and too strange and could not make or keep friends.

Mrs. Covington had done God’s work, she’d seen a little girl in trouble, and alerted my Mom to get me help. Mom tried, she’d done what she thought would help. But it was the beginning of that long road of wrong answers that never satisfied the questions.

And that little girl Mrs. Covington asked to make friends with me? That’s the funny thing. She was an answer that didn’t get realized until another set of dots connected. I didn’t have the words for that either back then, I didn’t even know it was possible for two girls to be in love, I didn’t even know it could be possible until decades later. But the emotions were there long since. I loved her desperately – but in true autistic style I didn’t realize she hated me until we graduated high school together.

Sometimes I don’t see the forest for the trees.

Ever since I was diagnosed I’ve been furious that no one ever realized there was something wrong with me. But someone did. Mrs. Covington saw I was in trouble, but she had no way of knowing what it was because we didn’t have words or concepts for it yet. You can’t know what you don’t know. It wasn’t malice. It was simple lack of knowledge. Mom knew there was something wrong, but the shrink couldn’t call it anything but depression. Given what was happening to me at the time, it wasn’t even an unlikely call. But it was wrong.

It was dumb, blind luck – a random YouTube video and increasingly frantic web searches – that gave me the right answer. The real answer. The answer that finally, decisively fit.

[ancientforgcd]

Kiana had always measured her worth by what she could do, not by who she was. Being a Kaslana meant she was born to protect, to push herself until there was nothing left, to lay down her life if it came to that. Her value, in her mind, had always been tied to her strength, her utility. Anything beyond that? She didn’t even know what that looked like. Every battle fought, every bone-breaking training session, every injury ignored-these weren’t acts of self-sacrifice. They were simply what was necessary. And because of that, she never saw herself as selfless. No, to her, she was just doing what any good Kaslana would do. The bare minimum.

But the truth was, she needed to prove herself. Every day. As a Valkyrie, as a Kaslana, and especially after becoming the Herrscher of Flamescion. Every title she carried, every mission she took, every time she threw herself in harm’s way-it was all part of this endless, silent drive to feel like she was enough. She told herself it wasn’t self-sacrifice. It was her choice. She chose this life, chose to push herself until she was ready to collapse, because the idea of failing, of being less, was too much to bear. She thought, What right do I have to rest while others fight? How could I ever live for myself when so many have sacrificed for me to be here?

And that pressure, that impossible standard, became something she carried like armor. Except it didn’t protect her-it crushed her.

Where others saw her endless routine of training and fighting as dedication, Kiana saw it as nothing special. Of course she would work herself to the bone. Of course she would push until she was bleeding. Anything less, in her mind, was selfish. And that’s exactly what she called herself; a selfish girl who couldn’t even consider slowing down because she’d convinced herself that she had to be ready for the next threat. To her, even stopping to catch her breath was indulgent.

When her friends begged her to take a break, when they worried about her, it felt wrong. Why should they worry? she thought. She was fine. She was doing what she was supposed to do. Their concern felt misplaced, like they didn’t understand what she was really doing. She wasn’t pushing herself for them, she told herself. She was pushing because she couldn’t bear the thought of failing again, of feeling like she wasn’t enough. She needed to keep going, for herself, for her own reasons. And yet, she called it selfishness, because admitting her fear, her need to be valuable, was too raw, too vulnerable.

Her sense of self-worth was bound so tightly to her strength that she couldn’t see herself as valuable in any other way. To be vulnerable, to rest even for a moment, felt like a betrayal of everything she was supposed to be. Kaslanas don’t rest, she thought. Kaslanas fight. Kaslanas protect. She had trained herself to believe that taking care of her own needs somehow detracted from the energy she could be putting toward protecting everyone else. And that logic, twisted as it was, had been her anchor. If she wasn’t fighting, she was failing. If she wasn’t pushing herself, she was slacking.

But at the heart of it all was this: Kiana didn’t know how to be anything but a soldier. And maybe she didn’t think she deserved to be. All those years on the edge of survival, all those battles where her own life came second to everyone else’s-she had started to believe that her only value was in what she could do. Outside of her power, her strength, her ability to protect...she didn’t know who she was. And maybe, deep down, she was afraid that there was nothing worth knowing.

So she worked herself to exhaustion, she wore herself thin, convinced that as long as she kept going, she wouldn’t have to face the emptiness she feared. She would never have to ask herself, Who am I without this fight? Because if she ever did, she was terrified the answer would be nothing.

[lostusagis]

Wooing Namida

( A drabble for my ship with @jiraipink )

Kamui had been staring outside the window of his ship, sitting silently. As Namida’s birthday got closer, he knew he had to do something really special for her. She did so much for both his, and Kagura’s birthday. She didn’t need to go so above and beyond, but she did without really wanting anything in return. Namida always did that for both of them. Which was why…. Kamui wanted to give her a special day as well. Especially since he had been so awful to her last year. His bandaged hand clenched into a tight fist, thinking about the things he said to her back then. He could only imagine how lonely she was feeling at the time too, she doesn’t have any family. She lived in the Kabuki district alone.

How did she feel that day when he was being so mean to her? Kamui didn’t think of any of those things back then, having been so irritated with her existence. Only wanting to spite and annoy her. He didn’t take her situation into consideration, he only saw her as a means of entertainment since pissing her off was funny to him at the time. But now…. She's so important to him. He didn’t want to piss her off the way he used to. Kamui liked being annoying at times, and teased her a lot, but it was harmless and he always made the effort to not take things too far. At least not anymore. Namida made him learn to watch what he says, and be more considerate of people’s feelings. Well, only her feelings. He was only considerate of her. Seeing her cry, and get upset made him feel hatred for himself. More than what he already felt. He couldn’t bear doing that to her. Not again. 

Kamui wanted to show her nothing but kindness and affection, the same way she showed it to him. The warmth, and kindness….. the happiness that engulfs him whenever they were together, he wanted to share that. Namida constantly made him act like a better person than what he was used to. Had they never met, he never would’ve discovered the value in having such a precious friendship with someone. She constantly made his heart race, put smiles on his face, would brighten up even the worst of his days…..

For a simple human, she had so much power. At least over him. 

So… he wanted to repay her for all of that. He wanted to make her the happiest woman ever on her birthday. Kamui wasn’t sure how to do that though, and there weren’t a lot of options with people he could ask for advice. 

Abuto…. definitely wasn’t an option. He constantly complained about the amount of money Kamui put into buying things for Namida, and how he avoided doing work when he wanted to spend time with her too. He’d probably just complain more if Kamui went to him, which would be really irritating.

Kamui sighs, using his index finger to draw the shape of Namida’s My Melody hairpin on the glass window absentmindedly. He then took out his phone, and came across an advertisement for Odd Jobs. 

‘’Oh, they’re able to afford advertisements?’’ Kamui mumbled to himself, looking over it. He contemplates for a bit, wondering if this was a good idea.

Should he…..? There wasn’t really anyone else. But that guy was a pain in the ass, just looking at him made Kamui want to smash his face in. 

After mulling it over for a while, Kamui caved. He dropped by Earth and visited Odd Jobs. For once, he opened the sliding door without sabotaging it. His gaze was greeted with his sister’s, who had been upside down on one of the sofas, on her phone.

‘’Woah, what are you doing here? You usually let me know when you’re about to visit.’’ Kagura asked curiously, sitting right up and crossing her legs. She noticed he looked more serious than usual. ‘’Are you okay?’’

Kamui immediately forced on a smile, ‘’Can’t your big brother just drop by for a visit?’’ The younger Yato gave him a skeptical look,

‘’Drop the fake smile, what’s up? I can tell when you have something on your mind.’’ Her chin rests in her palms, looking over at him. Kamui’s smile falters, as he plops down next to her.

‘’Namida’s birthday is coming up… so….’’ He’d stare down at the floor, with melancholy within his eyes, and Kagura could easily tell he was having doubts again. She bumps her elbow into his side slightly,

‘’Don’t look like that, whatever you do, I’m sure she’ll be happy. You’re really annoying when it comes to her, but I can tell she really enjoys being around you.’’ Despite Kagura’s words, Kamui still had the mindset that he had to do something extravagant. Worry finds itself on her face, seeing him look so down. ‘’Why’d you come here though…. if you’re worried about her birthday…?’’

‘’Wanted to ask that samurai for advice.’’ Kamui finally looked up and turned to her, ‘’Where is he?’’

Kagura’s eye twitched, ‘’Advice…? From Gin-chan? Are you sure?’’

‘’You guys do Odd Jobs, right? So I figured advice about how to make a girl happy would count as something like that.’’ He fiddles with the end of his braid, looking away. He had been skeptical about this himself, but didn’t really have any other options.

‘’Why don’t you just ask her to be your girlfriend? That’ll make her SUPER happy.’’ Kagura partly mumbled,

‘’Huh?’’ Kamui didn’t fully hear her, looking back over at his sister confused but she smiles and feigns ignorance.

‘’Nothing! Nothing at all!’’ She turned on the TV, ‘’Gin-chan is out getting snacks right now, he won’t be back for a bit. Soooo, let’s watch some anime!’’

‘’Is that my netflix account?’’ Kamui would ask, but Kagura loudly coughs and quickly switches over to crunchyroll. Her brother was glaring at her as she decided on an anime to watch. Eventually picking something involving spies, assassins and telepaths. 

About an hour later, the sound of the door could be heard and Kamui was immediately on his feet and eagerly greeted Gintoki with a grin. ‘’Hey there mr. samurai!’’

Gintoki was startled, backing up the minute he heard that obnoxiously cheerful voice. ‘’What the hell do you want?’’ He walked past him to put down the bags in his hands on the table in the living room. Kamui followed suit,

‘’Oh, oh, I wanted to ask if you could…. do a job for me?’’ Eagerness filled those bright blue eyes of his, meanwhile Kagura was going through the bags on the table looking for the cookies she asked for and immediately started snacking on them.

‘’A job? For you?’’ Gintoki sits at his desk, arms folded behind his head as he’d think for a few seconds. ‘’Hmmm, nah.’’

Kamui persistently goes up to his desk, pulling out his wallet. ‘’I’ll pay. Either that or I’ll beat you senseless. Pick one.’’ The cheery smile on his face only made his words all the more unsettling. Gintoki grumbles under his breath, taking the money once Kamui pulls it out of his wallet and slips it into his kimono.

‘’Fine. What do you want me do?’’ He didn’t even make an effort to hide his disinterest, since he couldn’t stand being around Kamui. But that didn’t seem to bother the Yato in the least. Kamui was grinning ear to ear, hoping advice from him would be beneficial in making Namida happy.

‘’I want to make Namida happy for her birthday. So I wanted advice on how to do that.’’ When the older Yato asked that, Gintoki just looked at him then over at Kagura as if silently asking ‘’Are they dating yet, or what?’’ with a dumbfounded look. 

Kagura understood and just shook her head, silently mouthing ‘’No, because he’s a fucking idiot.’’

Gintoki sighs, sitting up straight in his chair. ‘’Why don’t you just sleep with her, Kamui? I’m sure it’ll make her very-’’ His words were cut off by Kamui grabbing him by the collar of his shirt, tightly holding him up with a pissed off smile.

‘’If you don’t take this seriously, I’ll hurt you. Really badly.’’ His grip tightens, making Gintoki struggle to breathe more, ‘’Also, if you say anything perverted about Namida… You will seriously regret it. She’s extremely important to me. I don’t want to have sex with her, I just want her to have a really nice day. Got it?’’

He didn’t get a response since Gintoki was barely able to speak, but Kamui at least let him go. Albeit, by tossing him to the floor. Kagura felt it was well deserved and just minded her business. Her fudge filled cookies were a lot more interesting right now. She was really tempted to leave given that she knew this entire thing would be a cringe fest. Plus, it just grossed her out. She didn’t want to know what lovey dovey crap Kamui and Namida would end up doing. 

Gintoki groans, struggling to stand, using his desk for support. It was going to be a long ass day for him. ‘’Date. Take her out on a date then.’’ He hoped that answer would suffice for Kamui.

‘’Date…?’’ Sapphire hues blink curiously,

‘’Yes. Dates can make a girl happy.’’ The minute he was told that, Kamui’s face lit up. He figured he could request a fake date with Namida on the day of her birthday, and basically give her a day off too by making the day all about her. 

‘’Okay! Tell me what I can do on a date that’ll make her happy then! I’ve never been on one of those before!’’ Things like that didn’t even interest him to begin with, at least until he unknowingly fell in love with Namida. She made him grow interested in things he didn’t even consider beforehand.

‘’You could use pickup lines on her.’’ Gintoki leans his cheek into his palm after sitting back on his desk, ‘’Say the right ones and it’ll have them swooning.’’

‘’Oooh, what are… pick up lines? Like… what are we picking up?’’ Kamui had zero experience when it came to this, so…. he wanted to know every bit of detail possible.

‘’You don’t pick up anything dumbass, look I’ll give you an example-’’ Gintoki was interrupted by Kagura clearing her throat,

‘’As much fun as it would be to overhear two guys saying pickup lines to each other, I think I’m going to head out because I’m already nauseous. I’ll be with Soyo-chan, goodbye love birds.’’ What Kagura says immediately pisses off both of them, which was her goal before leaving.

‘’I think I’d have better standards than a complete psycho like this guy, I feel bad for Miss Big ti-’’ And a punch was immediately launched at Gintoki’s face, Kamui cracked his knuckles after. 

‘’She has a name. I told you to not make any perverted comments about her.’’ The glare he gave the samurai would be enough to terrify even the scariest of Amanto. Gintoki clutched his bleeding head, letting out a groan.

‘’Fucksakes…..’’ He was wondering why Kagura just had to have the most violent of family members. Kamui was worse than his father. Especially since he probably meant it when he threatened to kill him. Although, getting pissed over Gintoki making perverted comments is awfully hypocritical. Since he had seen the way Kamui looks at Namida when they come over sometimes. The Yato wasn’t very subtle when it came to looking at her chest, but even if they’re just friends… it seems Namida was already claimed. Gintoki really does pity her. Especially since Kamui seemed very possessive. He shuddered over what could have happened had the Yato discovered that brief time Gintoki blatantly checked out the girl. Must be lucky she didn’t rat him out for that. Gintoki would be dead. A puddle of bloody mush on the floor. She probably wasn’t in her right mind anyway if she befriended Kamui though. But, he was curious…..

‘’Wait, Kamui. What kind of….. friendship do you have with this girl?’’ Gintoki leaned his cheek into his hand, looking up at him from his desk, the joy that showed on the amanto’s face after he was asked that question made the samurai immediately regret asking.

‘’We’re really, really, REALLY good friends! Best friends actually! See? Look at this, we have matching bracelets!’’ Kamui held up his wrist, showing the bracelet that said ‘best’ that rested over the bandages wrapped around beneath it. ‘’She has the one that says ‘friends’ because we’re best friends, she gave it to me for my birthday! But that’s not all!’’ His excitement was really overwhelming, and annoying. He kept going on and on, speaking so quickly.

‘’I always visit her when coming to Earth! We do all sorts of things together. We cook together, play video games together, we cuddle together, kiss, hug, hold hands, bite each other and-’’

‘’Enough. PLEASE!’’ Gintoki finally interrupts, towards the end it was sounding less like friendship and more like lovers. He gave Kamui the most annoyed of looks, ‘’You really are a fucking idiot.’’

‘’Eh? How? I was just answering your question.’’ No logical thought in sight, he probably really only thought about this girl night and day. 

‘’You kiss her and bite her, and can say you’re just friends?’’ The nod Kamui did made Gintoki pinch the bridge of his nose, realizing how out of touch the guy was with anything that wasn’t violence and murder.

‘’She makes really cute sounds when I do either, and it just… makes me want to do it over and over again.’’ He couldn’t stop gushing over her, feeling warmth and uncontrollable joy from the thought of Namida alone. Gintoki only continued to understand Kagura’s disgust with every waking moment he was forced to witness this.

‘’I see…. so you get turned on then.’’ When he said that, Kamui gave him a look. As if it touched a nerve. It made Gintoki want to mess with him, ‘’C’mon Kamui, even if you’re an idiot… you’re still a man all the same. She’s made you turned on a bunch of times before, right? Did you get hard during all those times you spent with her?’’ 

He got the reaction he wanted because Kamui immediately started choking him with the collar of his shirt again, ‘’Drop the subject. I came here for advice not for you to bring up perverted crap about me and Namida.’’ the way he got so defensive and pissed off was basically revealing that what Gintoki said was true though. When he was released, the samurai had to do his best to hold back the smug grin threatening to show on his face. It was really easy to get on Kamui’s nerves, which made messing with him all the more funny.. 

Despite the truth to it, Kamui was really embarrassed over every time that kind of situation happened. It was not something he wanted to talk about with Gintoki of all people.

‘’Right, riiiiight. Advice to make your ‘best friend’ happy. Gotchaaaaa.’’ The advice about sleeping with her would have been beneficial in Gintoki’s opinion, given the amount of clear sexual tension between them. But, it seems that was crossing the line despite everything else they did. 

While he was contemplating what kind of advice, Kamui went into the bags Gintoki brought earlier to eat some of the snacks. Then went into his fridge and grabbed a carton of his strawberry milk too to go along with it. Fudge cookies, and strawberry milk.

‘’Hey asshole older brother, you don’t live here. Stop making yourself at home.’’ Although, everytime he said that, it went through one ear and came out the other. Kamui even had the audacity to sit on his desk too. 

‘’Hurry up. I don’t have all day.’’ Didn’t listen to a single thing Gintoki said, given the way he’s stuffing his face still. Crumbs everywhere. No consideration. Worst family ever. The most frustrated of noises came out of Gintoki’s mouth. He decided to just get this advice crap out the way and quickly get him out of here.

‘’Alright, alright.’’ He scratches the back of his head, pondering how to even begin. He looks Kamui up and down, studying him for a few moments thoughtfully. Then an idea came to mind, ‘’Oh. Why don’t you dress differently? In a way you know would make her really happy.’’ 

The suggestion was really vague and made Kamui turn his head to look at him confused, still chewing on the cookies. ‘’What do you mean? Dress how?’’

The samurai stood up, walking around to face him and kept thoughtfully looking at him, cupping his chin. ‘’Hmmm, well…. I think-’’ He only slightly touched Kamui’s braid before his hand was then being violently crushed under the Yato’s monstrous grip.

‘’Don’t touch my hair.’’ Kamui blankly blinked up at him, putting down the box of cookies, 

‘’Ow, ow, ow, fuck! I was just trying to explain that she’d probably like it if you wore your hair differently is all- Fuck! LET GO!’’ The pain practically had the samurai on his knees, but after explaining it Kamui smiled.

‘’Oh! Okay, I get it! So…. you think she’d like if I wore my hair down?!’’ He hadn’t let Gintoki go yet, ‘’She always calls me pretty after all. She’d probably like that a lot! What should I wear with that style?’’

The samurai was whimpering on the floor in pain, praying to the buddha who had forsaken him. ‘’T-T-Tux….’’ He managed to sputter out in between his agony. ‘’G-Girls… l-like… men in…. tuxedos….please…. let me go before you crush my hand…’’ the tears leak down his cheeks.

Kamui stared at him while he begged to be released, unfortunately the Yato found it really hilarious and kept doing it for a bit. A mix of revenge and just him enjoying Gintoki’s pain. When he did let go, the samurai let out a relieved sigh feeling his hand throbbing afterwards. When he so miserably stands up, he just mutters under his breath.

‘’How does miss big tits keep this guy in check? Seriously.’’ Although, Kamui heard that very clearly and punched him for that comment, making him crash into the wooden floor.. 

‘’What did I say? Kagura’s not here to protect you, so watch it. She might come home to a corpse if you’re not careful. The plot’s not here to protect you anymore.’’ Kamui would smile threateningly, getting closer and closer to standing by his word everytime Gintoki said something perverted about Namida.

Gintoki glared at Kamui from his spot on the floor, sitting up and wiping the blood from his bleeding face. ‘’Well, if I’m dead. You won’t get help with your problem.’’

Kamui clicked his tongue and looked away annoyed.

‘’Speaking of which.’’ Gintoki stands up, and sits back in his chair. ‘’Let’s talk more about the date. I mentioned pick up lines earlier, right?’’

‘’Uh huh.’’

‘’Basically… you just gotta say something that’ll make her heart race. Make her blush and swoon. ‘Namida, your lips look so tempting. It’s so hard holding myself back’ or something like that.’’ For some reason, hearing Gintoki say that really pissed off Kamui. Having imagined Gintoki being the one saying it to Namida, instead of him. That wasn’t the samurai’s intention but he wanted to beat him to a bloody pulp now.

‘’Maybe wink at her too after saying something that really gets a good reaction out of her.’’ That suggestion put Kamui off, finding something like that embarrassing.

‘’Women find that appealing?’’ He would ask that, although if Namida had done it to him… he probably wouldn't mind it. 

‘’Depends who’s winking at them. Drunk, creepy perverts? No. Pretty boys? Probably.’’ 

‘’Drunk, creepy and perverted… Oh, you mean like yourself?’’ Kamui would say smiling, making Gintoki wish he’d burst into flames. ‘’What, did you try this out and fail miserably?’’

‘’You should be a little nicer to your sensei, Kamui. I’m trying to help you out with mi-’’ He paused before he used that nickname he gave Namida again, seeing the Yato already cracking his knuckles again. He fakes a cough, ‘’I’m trying to help you out with Namida. Your best friend. So… respect me more.’’ 

‘’Please remember I’m restraining myself from breaking every bone in your body right now, Mr. samurai.’’ The words come out cheerfully, despite the murderous thoughts going through Kamui’s mind. He wondered how his sister lived with this guy, she had more patience than he did for sure.

‘’I don’t have to help you.’’

‘’I also don’t have to let you remain alive, yet here we are. Do I need to put you through some more torture for you to get the message?’’ Kamui stepped closer, and that seemed to intimidate Gintoki enough to stop joking around. Holding up his hands to stop him.

‘’Okay, okay! Have a sense of humor.’’ He huffs, then taps his index on his desk. ‘’Anyway, back to what we were talking about. Say something really cool and charming, then drop the wink and I’m sure she’ll be swooning.’’ 

Gintoki was trying to figure out an example, thinking maybe that’ll help. He stood up, and went to Kamui. Then took his hand, and went on one knee putting on his most charming grin. ‘’You’re the most beautiful girl in all the universe. No planet I’ve been to has ever had someone as remarkable and as unique as you. Namida.’’ 

Kamui immediately snatched his hand away and immediately punched him again in retaliation, disgust on his face. ‘’Don’t ever use me in your demonstration again.’’

Gintoki hissed in pain when knocked against his desk, ‘’I was showing an example you bastard! I’m trying to be helpful and you keep resorting to violence!’’ Blood dripped down his nose as he barked at the other,

‘’Be helpful in a less gross way.’’ Being touched in such a way by anyone other than Namida, made his skin crawl. Only she could grasp his hand like that. Only she could be affectionate with him. No one else. Only her. Only. Her. He hated being touched without permission. It often happened when idiots had the balls to flirt with him. They either did not know who he was, or were just REALLY stupid. Sometimes both.

Gintoki seemed to be pushing it though, having wrapped his arm around Kamui’s shoulder as if they were close friends. Actively pissing him off more and more, ‘’Kamui. You need to be more open to touching too if you want to make her happy. Women like being touched, you know… here and there. Get what I mean?’’ 

‘’I get that I want to kill you right now for being so casual with me.’’ Kamui responds with an all too dangerous smile, but Gintoki ignores it, wanting to get his point across. He leaned close to his ear,

‘’Some groping might add a little spice to your date.’’

Silence settled within the room for a concerning amount of time, before Kamui started beating him without remorse. ‘’It was a joke! A joke!’’ Gintoki would yell in between getting punched and kicked. Kamui eventually stopped, breathing out in frustration.

‘’Asking you for help was obviously a mistake. Why would you suggest something so stupid? You thought ‘hey, this guy doesn’t know much about women so maybe I’ll trick him into sexually harassing someone really important to him’, right? You’re really hilarious.’’ Kamui at least knew that much, especially given the time he accidentally groped her before. He scowls at Gintoki and holds out his hand,

‘’Refund.’’ 

Gintoki was trying to recover, thankfully having gained endurance from the numerous times Kagura or Umibozu had kicked his ass. He holds a hand up, ‘’Wait, wait. Hear me out.’’

‘’You told me to grope Namida, I think we’re past that. Believing anything you say is too dangerous. You’ll make her hate me.’’ His bandaged arms folded over his chest, looking down on the samurai from where he stood. ‘’I came here because I wanted to avoid that. I constantly make mistakes that upset her. So I… wanted advice to avoid that but asking a bastard like you was the last thing I should’ve done.’’ Shoulders slumped as he frowned, looking away sadly. Kamui wished he had more options. He didn’t have any other people he knew that could help. Or maybe Abuto would have been a better choice, Kamui just didn’t want to deal with the tedious complaining that would come with him.

Gintoki however, ended up feeling bad. Seeing Kamui look like that came as a surprise. He looked genuinely remorseful. ‘’You know Kamui, I think you’re worrying over this too much. She probably would be happy with anything you do.’’

Frustrated fingers thread through his bangs as Kamui gritted his teeth, ‘’No. Just doing anything is not good enough! I want to make sure everything is perfect! I want to make sure I don’t mess up! I don’t want to make her cry anymore, and I don’t want her to avoid me like she did before! I want her to stay by my side, I don’t want to lose her! She’s really important to me! You don’t get it! I was also REALLY awful to her during her last birthday and NEED to make up for that after everything she’s done for me!’’ He was growing more upset to the point his voice cracked while yelling, feeling a tightness in his throat while trying to keep his emotions in check.

Gintoki was mulling over what to say, not exactly expecting to deal with Kamui in such a state. Kagura was probably better at this, since she knew him better. But she bailed. He leaned his head against the desk sighing.

‘’At the very least, try the date idea I gave you. Dates and all that are pretty normal when you want to have fun with someone. You can trust me on that.’’

Kamui looked at him skeptically, doubting everything he was told by him. ‘’Trust me Kamui.’’

‘’What part of what you told me today is actual advice I can believe?’’ 

‘’Everything except what I said about groping I guess.’’ The samurai shrugged, ‘’I guess that sort of thing would just work with courtesans or something.’’

Kamui rolled his eyes, ‘’If anything that you told me to do messes up our friendship, I’m killing you. That’s a promise. And not Kagura or that bald bastard will be able to save you. I’ll make it slow and extremely painful, making sure you suffer every second until you breathe your last breath. Got it?’’ That threat was enough to make anyone piss their pants. 

‘’Yeah, yeah….’’ Gintoki was nonchalant, exhausted from the constant beatings he had gotten while Kamui was here. ‘’If anything, try acting like the male lead in a shoujo manga. Those are really popular with women after all.’’

‘’I’ve never read Shoujo manga before though. They’re boring.’’ Kamui found no interest in reading about love. Gintoki found it pretty ironic that he hated the romance genre so much, yet acted like a lovesick yandere psycho.

‘’You could also…. act like an otome character too.’’ That suggestion striked a sudden reaction from Kamui, eyes slightly wide when remembering Namida talking about something like that. 

‘’Huh….’’ Although, Kamui doesn’t fully remember having thought the whole thing was stupid. There was some character from an otome that Namida really liked. She stopped bringing it up though. ‘’Acting like a character sounds…. really…. would that actually be appealing for her?’’

Gintoki waved his hand dismissively, ‘’I barely know her, so how would I know? Given your reaction, I’m guessing she’s into that stuff?’’

‘’She is. At least, she used to be. She hasn’t brought it up in a long time.’’ Kamui recalled making fun of her one time for it. He was feeling weary, stressing  so much over this, burying his face into his hands.

‘’How about you just teach me more of those pick up lines?’’ When he brought his hands down from his face, his cheeks were slightly red. ‘’I think at least… maybe… s-she’ll like that.’’ Kamui had a feeling he was going to have to push through a lot of embarrassment for this. He’s done things before to make her happy, at the expense of his own pride, solely because he can’t stand her looking sad or disappointed. He’d remember when he went to sanrioland for Kagura’s birthday, and saw how happy she was just because he put on that head band. His face was red the whole time, but he started to eventually forget about it seeing the look on her face. 

Kamui looked over at Gintoki who was rummaging through his stuff, ‘’What are you doing?’’ Eventually a dvd set was thrown at him. He catches it then looks at the cover, dread shows on his face.

‘’An anime about hosts? How will this be helpful?’’

‘‘Their whole purpose is to make women happy.’’

‘’Don’t they basically lie and play with women’s feelings to sleep with them though?’’

‘’Kamui, they’re not courtesans. What the hell did you think that cabaret club was that we have over here?’’

Kamui tapped his chin, ‘’Uh… Kind of just assumed it was similar to Yoshiwara. But I don’t really go to that place to begin with since I’m not interested.’’

Gintoki ran a hand down his face irritably, ‘’Just watch that anime.. Although, when it comes to looking for inspiration for your date… the tall, blonde guy is your best bet.’’

Kamui’s stare lingered on the dvd set, before going to the TV and slipping it inside. It seemed like the samurai was giving decent, trustworthy advice now so he’ll give the benefit of a doubt. Murder was still an option if the date went badly though.

After watching the dvd, Gintoki was helping him through gaining the same kind of charm as the character he told Kamui to look to for inspiration. Every second of every minute Kamui felt the utmost embarrassment from this.

‘’Just say it. Stop being a little baby.’’ Gintoki would encourage, meanwhile the Yato was as red as a tomato scowling at him before sighing and deciding to continue.

‘’P-Princess…. you look r-really… b-beautiful today.’’ The words came out somewhat like a mumble, unable to shake off the embarrassment. He’s never really gave Namida a nickname like that, nor did he know if she’d even like it. He always found nicknames like that to be extremely stupid and cringe.

‘’I can barely hear you.’’ Gintoki put his hand near his ear, then smugly smirked. ‘’You sound like a shy school girl.’’

That remark made Kamui want to smash his face in so badly as he glared at him. But he was actually being helpful so the Yato refrained. For now. ‘’P-Princess…. you look really beautiful today…..’’ He stammered less that time, and was more loud.

Gintoki clapped, ‘’Wooooah, you’re not completely hopeless. Good job.’’ He snorted slightly, trying to hold back his laughter since this was the same Kamui who was a huge threat three years ago.

Kamui was choosing to ignore the mocking since he was more concerned over the date with Namida. ‘’Princess, your lips look so irresistible and tempting. L-Let me k-kiss them over…and over again.’’ His face felt so hot, he really hoped this was going to please her.

‘’Hmmm….’’ Gintoki leaned his arm on Kamui’s shoulder, humming thoughtfully. ‘’You know, that line could probably hit better if you whisper it into her ear. That’ll make her swoon.’’

Kamui huffs from the close, unbearable contact yet endured. ‘’Really? Won’t that creep her out?’’ 

He’d hear a thoughtful hum from the samurai again, ‘’Good question, shall I show a demonstration?’’

It earned him an immediate kick in the shin, making him fall to his knees in pain. ‘’Fuck! Damnit Kamui! It wasn’t a joke, I’m trying to help you out here!’’

‘’You say a mix of helpful stuff, then extremely creepy stuff so I’m trying to figure out what I should or shouldn’t believe. Don’t whisper into my ear, that’ll make my skin crawl. I told you I don’t want to be part of your demonstrations.’’ The first time was enough. Despite him having been here all day, he didn’t consider Gintoki a buddy or anything. Just a nuisance who’s temporarily useful. 

Gintoki was wincing in pain from his shin being hit so hard, thinking it might be broken. ‘’Damnit…’’ He figured it was time to just end this, ‘’I think you’ve gotten enough advice for your date. Can you leave now?’’

Kamui tilted his head, ‘’Eh? That’s it?’’ He was expecting more, and was willing to put himself through the hell of dealing with Gintoki in order to get as much advice as he needed.

‘’Just… do the usual things you do with her too, and if all else fails. Sex is an option.’’ Gintoki shrugged, still feeling his shin throbbing in pain. Kamui stared at him, before smashing his face repeatedly into the wooden floors then promptly stomped out. Leaving him bloodied and bruised before leaving.

He’ll figure out the rest then, since this guy was USELESS.

[welldonebeca]

bloodbrothers (9)

WC: 6.1k words Warnings: A little bit of tension. Fluff. A bit of crack, cause this family is iconic. Set in June 2023

masterlist

Vermax was happily sprawled across Syrax’s chest when Jace found him again, blissfully soaking in the sunlit warmth of the cats’ room — declared the sunniest in the hotel suit by Mum, for their satisfaction. Syrax was grooming her son with long licks, while Caraxes dozed in the corner with the other three cats curled on top of him. 

When Jace and Cregan finally stepped into their room, the first thing Cregan did was head straight for the thermostat. He hovered there for so long that Jace half-suspected he had no idea of what he was doing, until he felt the room growing colder.

“Just don’t freeze me to death,” he joked, glancing at Cregan.

The sound of the buttons paused briefly before continuing. Jace shook his head, unpacking his bag to organise his clothes in the wardrobe.

“Is it always that hot outside?” Cregan asked as he came back to retrieve his own belongings. “I was melting out there.”

He couldn’t help laughing a little.

“Really? I thought you got the temperature down when you went to the thermostat with Mum.”

Cregan raised his eyebrows at him, completely exasperated.

“I set it to the highest temperature I could take,” he said flatly. “Honestly, it doesn’t surprise me you freeze at everything. To me, this feels like standing by the gates of the Seven Hells.”

Jace burst out laughing at the comparison. It wasn’t that hot — just Driftmark in the Summer. He waved a hand dismissively.

“Oh, come on. You’re making me afraid to take you to New Valyria,” he teased. “If you think this is bad, you might actually evaporate there.”

Cregan let out a dramatic sigh, pulling off his shirt and tossing it onto the nearest chair before stepping under the A/C vent. He spread his arms wide, closed his eyes, and stood there like he needed it to live. It went on long enough that Jace had to chuckle as he finished organising his things.

By the time Cregan seemed satisfied with his body temperature, Jace had already put on a jacket. The room was freezing now, but he wasn’t about to complain — not when Cregan always cranked up the heat for him whenever he was uncomfortable with the weather. It seemed only fair to let his boyfriend have his moment with the A/C.

“You good now, or do you need another five minutes of worshipping the air vent?” Jace teased. 

Cregan cracked one eye open, smirking as he turned too look at him. 

“Another five might actually save my life, but I think I’ll live. Barely.”

He chuckled, shaking his head and sitting on the bed a moment, exhaling as Cregan went to put his things on his designated side of the wardrobe, and they stayed in silence for a moment.

“Do you think they liked me?” Cregan asked, his gaze fixed on what he was doing.

Jace hesitated, his mind somewhere between wanting to reassure him and not overpromising. Well, Mum and Kepa didn’t hate him, which was a solid start. Everyone had been open to getting to know him, but it was too early to tell if anyone had formed an opinion beyond curiosity.

“I think they’re excited to get to know you,” Jace said finally. “And then figure out if they like you. You still have Luke to meet, though. And Dad. And Uncle Joffrey. And my grandparents.”

There were still a lot of important people to get to know, and Jace valued the opinions of all of them when it came to this.

He watched Cregan’s expression carefully, but his boyfriend only glanced back, his face unreadable for a beat too long.

“Is there a most important person?” Cregan asked, stepping closer.

And maybe Jace got a little distracted eyeing him up — come on, he was shirtless! It wasn’t fair.

He completely missed the question.

“Sorry, what?” he asked, forcing his eyes back up to meet Cregan’s.

Cregan snorted, crawling onto the bed and over to Jace, absolutely amused. He leaned down and kissed his lips, distracting him even more.

“Come on,” he insisted, raising himself up on his elbows as he hovered over Jace. “Who do I have to impress the most?”

Cregan scoffed, looking all too pleased with himself.

“I have six siblings and five parents,” Jace poked him in the chest. “You’re really asking me to pick favourites?”

Cregan’s grin turned cocky as he poked Jace’s side in retaliation.

“You have six siblings and five parents,” he echoed. “You absolutely have a favourite. Come on, tell me. I’m not gonna tell them!”

“I don’t have a favourite!” Jace insisted. 

“It’s your stepfather!” Cregan accused. “I see those mean looks he throws from behind your mother.”

Jace rolled his eyes, scoffing;

“Kepa glares at everyone from behind Mum,” he corrected. “You only have to worry about him if he steps to the front and doesn’t let her do the talking.”

He still remembered the fight they got into at Grandma’s party for her 60th birthday.

Well, it wasn’t even a fight. It was like one of those internet videos of things that only happen for five seconds and so few people see it, barely anyone knows what happened.

Great-uncle Vaemond had had way too much to drink and started saying stuff about them not being Velaryons and how his son should be Grandpa’s heir and how dad was too incompetent to make a ‘fucking kid’.

Jace had never seen Kepa move so fast. It took just one nod from Mum, he could have sworn that was it.

One moment Vaemond was starting the word ‘bastards’ — Dad was putting Joffrey on the floor while Grandpa was walking from the other side of the room to see what was going on — and the other Kepa had already punched him so hard, he fell down and bit his tongue so deep it almost came off.

Just like that.

Everyone turned to see what had happened, but by the time anyone was even by Vaemond’s side, Kepa was with Mum again like nothing had happened.

Vaemond had to go to the hospital! He had to have his tongue stitched from how deep the bite was, and Grandpa said he couldn’t speak right for two months after and he still avoided Daemon.

It did shut him up, he never talked shit about them again.

“Then it’s your mother,” Cregan decided, breaking Jace out of the memory.

“Dude…”

“It’s your mother!” his boyfriend insisted, leaning in with a big grin. “I knew it!”

Alright, fine. Maybe he was a little closer to Mum than anyone else. So what?

Jace crossed his arms, shrugged.

“Mum is hard to impress,” he countered. “She’s protective.”

“So, what you’re saying,” Cregan decided, smug. “is that I just need to stay on her good side.”

That made him smirk anyway.

“Exactly,” he gave in. 

His boyfriend studied Jace’s face carefully, eyes narrowing slightly to read him before speaking again. 

“Luke.”

Jace frowned. What?

“It’s Luke,” Cregan repeated with quiet confidence. “You’re closest to Luke.”

He stared at him, raising his eyebrows.

“And?”

Luke was the boy closest to him in age, and they were a pair before Mum and Kepa got married. Of course he was the closest to Luke!

Cregan shrugged, still smiling.

“Just a statement.”

Jace stared at him for a moment, trying to read his face.

“Alright…” he said slowly.

Cregan just leaned back, looking far too pleased with himself for such vague words as he flopped on the bed, and Jace shook his head. 

“You’re such a weirdo sometimes.”

“And you’re still dating me,” Cregan pulled him closer, making him lay on top of him this time.

He rested his head on his chest, feet sticking out of the matress from the side of the bed as his boyfriend moved his hand to his hair, petting it slowly, both of them quiet in the room. 

The movements started to slow, each one lazier than the last, and he could tell Cregan was fighting sleep, clinging to consciousness. When the petting stopped and Cregan suddenly gasped, startled awake, Jace’s suspicions were confirmed.

He sat up, turning to look at him, trying not to smile too much.

“You tired?”

Cregan rubbed at his eye, yawning as he shook his head.

“I’m fine,” he insisted, obviously tired and half asleep. 

Jace scowled. Sure, he was. 

“You sure? You were about two seconds away from snoring just now.”

Cregan huffed, scoffing, fighting to keep his eyes open. 

“I don’t snore,” he rubbed his eyes.

“Sure you don’t,” Jace teased. “It’s fine. I’ll wake you up for dinner.”

Cregan grumbled something incoherent, wrapping his arm around him tightly, already closing his eyes and drifting right off.

Jace watched him quietly, the way his chest moved in steady breathing, how peaceful he looked so fast asleep after they’d had an admittedly eventful flight, and judging by how quickly he’d fallen asleep, he probably hadn’t slept well the night before either.

They would meet his family when they went back North — his uncle and aunt, which Jace had not met when he was dating Arya, and his cousins. It’d be a dinner with everyone at Winterfell, and Jace would have the chance to meet little Rickon and Robb, who were the only Starks he hadn’t met yet — he knew Bran from school and Sansa from being around Arya, which was nice, at least; he wouldn’t be going blindly into the family like…

Well, like Cregan.

Jace waited until he was deep enough into sleep to sneak out from his grasp, and walked out of the room, taking his jacket off when he was hit by the heat outside.

Damn, the bedroom really was that cold.

He closed the door quickly, taking off his jacket and wrapping it around his waist before walking out.

Eggy and Viz were at the table, focused on paper and drawing, while Mum sat at the couch, reading a book. She glanced up as he passed, offering him a gentle smile. Jace couldn’t help himself, stopping by her side and pressing a quick kiss to her cheek. He missed her so much. 

“Do you need help with anything?” she asked.

“No, it’s fine,” he squeezed her shoulder. “I was just thinking of freezing some grapes for Cregan — might help him deal with the heat.”

She nodded, her expression thoughtful.

“How’s he settling in?”

“Alright, I think,” Jace replied, leaning against the couch. “It’s just the weather. The North is freezing — you know, it’s way worse than the Vale.”

And the vale was really cold — they used to visit mum’s uncle Jon there about two or three times a year when they still lived in Westeros, and it was shocking how cold it was there, but the North was way worse.

Mum threw him a little look.

“And yet you keep freezing yourself there,” she touched his cheek gently. “Do you want me to send some scarves? It’s gonna get colder after August.”

Jace leaned into her touch.

“I’ll survive, Mum. I'm managing.”

She raised her eyebrows, clearly unconvinced.

“Barely,” she countered. “You’ve been stealing Cregan’s hoodies. Your father says that’s all you wear on Instagram.”

He rolled his eyes. Of course Dad was keeping up with his Instagram.

“He keeps me warm,” he joked, playful. “It’s fine.”

She chuckled, grinning and shaking her head.

“I’m sure he does.”

Jace crouched down beside Eggy, playing with his hair a moment, looking at his drawing.

“That’s a great dragon,” he praised him, kissing his head.

Viz, on his high chair, was way too focused on trying to colour inside the lines to even look at Jace. And he was failling, obviously. 

“There are some stickers for you to label the stuff,” Mum told him. “We can’t colour code here so you can use the marker to write his name down.”

“Okay,” he nodded.

Jace walked to the big kitchen, giving it a look around — it didn’t surprise him and it was a bit kitchen, Kepa wouldn’t settle for hotel food if he could be the one doing the cooking, it would not slack with the kitchen.

The fruits were in the second fridge, with the vegetables, perfectly organised to be reached into by the kids. He pulled out a box of green grapes, washed a bowl with a lid, grabbed a Post-it, and scribbled Cregan across it before sticking it onto the container.

He washed the grapes, filled the container, and stuck it in the fridge.

He was just done closing the door and straightening himself up when he felt someone leaping into his back and he only had time to hold their legs.

“You’re here!” Luke’s excited voice rang directly into his ear, almost making Jace flinch.

“Luke!” he groaned, half-laughing, half-scoffing as he tried to adjust to the sudden weight on his back. “What are you doing?”

Luke just clung tighter, refusing to let go.

“What does it look like?” he replied dramatically, crossing his ankles in front of Jace’s body. “I missed you!”

Gods, how dramatic.

“Where were you before?!” Jace asked, trying to look at him over his shoulder.

“Grandpa wanted to check if my suit fit fine,” Luke explained simply, finally dropping his legs and releasing Jace’s neck. “Come on, where’s your boyfriend?!”

Jace turned around to look at him properly, ready to roll his eyes at the incessant questions — but then he stopped, blinking in surprise.

Luke was tall. Like really tall. Somewhere in the last six months, his little brother had shot up, and now he was actually...

Taller than Jace.

“Dude,” Luke exclaimed, lips spreading in a huge grin as he seemed to realise what was going on at the same time as him. “I’m taller than you!”

Jace blinked again, still processing. First Rhaena, now Luke?

“What the— how — since when?!”

“Since now, I guess,” Luke shot back smugly, puffing out his chest. “Look at that!”

Jace opened and closed his mouth. That was not fair! Rhaena was already two inches taller than him already, but Luke? Really?!

“Height doesn’t mean anything!” he protested back.

Luke snorted, obviously not convinced.

“Okay, shorty.”

No. They weren’t doing that.

“You’re gonna regret that.” 

He lunched for him, ready to throw him down.

Luke yelped, dodging with the speed of someone who knew exactly what was coming.

“You can’t catch me! You’re too short to keep up!”

“LUKE!” Jace shouted, chasing after him.

Jace chased Luke into the living room, barely dodging furniture as his brother did the same. Luke almost escaped, but he managed to grab him by the arm at the last second, pulling him down and pinning him in the middle of the corridor with his whole body. 

Luke squirmed beneath him, laughing wildly.

“Let me go!”

“No!” Jace growled playfully, tightening his grip.

Their wrestling match came to a stop — briefly — when Kepa strolled by, coffee mug in hand, raising an unimpressed eyebrow at the scene.

He paused just long enough to step over their tangled bodies.

“Don’t kill one another,” he warned, as used to it as ever, not even glancing at them. 

Then, without another word, he continued on his merry way.

Jace glared down at Luke.

“Apologise!”

“Never!” Luke shouted defiantly, squirming harder. “You’re a shorty now, and you know it!”

“Apologise!” Jace demanded again, leaning his weight into his brother to keep him from escaping.

“Over my dead body!” Luke hollered, grinning like he was enjoying every second of this.

Luke twisted and squirmed, trying to push Jace away and trying to wriggle free. For a moment, he almost got it. 

But Jace had a secret weapon.

“Vermax!” he called.

His massive green cat rushed to him with all the enthusiasm of a predator pouncing on prey. Vermax leapt onto both of them, his huge paws landing squarely on Luke's shoulders and pinning him down.

Luke let out a startled yelp as Vermax lowered his head, his rough tongue flicking out to lick the side of his face and his hair as his brother tried to squirm off of his grasp, but Jace pinned him more.

“Vermax!” he protested, laughing.

Jace, half-pinned himself but thoroughly entertained, grinned down at his brother.

“Looks like Vermax missed you!” he teased, pausing to catch his breath while keeping Luke firmly in place.

“Your cat’s a traitor!” Luke complained, futilely attempting to shield his face from Vermax’s enthusiastic licking. “Get him off me!”

Jace moved a bit, his weight still keeping Luke pinned.

“Not until you apologise!”

But instead of an apology, he got a—

“Arrax, help!”

And barely a second later he got his breath knocked out of him when all 30 kilos of Arrax landed right on his back, like a sack of bricks.

“Get him off me!” Luke commanded.

“Arrax, no!” Jace wheezed, struggling as the second cat joined the chaos.

Vermax kept licking Luke’s face and Arrax just started paw-slapping him. 

“Get him, Arrax!” Luke commanded, laughing uncontrollably under Vermax’s relentless licks.

“Traitor!” Jace sputtered, trying to push Arrax off while keeping Luke pinned.

It was a losing battle, especially when Arrax leaned in and started nipping him whenever he could find space, and Luke seized the opportunity, using Jace’s distraction to twist free from his hold, rolling out from under Vermax and gasping for breath and grinning stupidly.

“Ha! I win!” he declared, all smug.

Jace barely had time to glare at him before Vermax and Arrax turned their collective attention back to him, their tongues and paws everywhere — licking his eyebrows, slapping his hair and pinning him down together.

“Help!”

But Luke just grinned down at him, arms crossed, grinning at him like a champion.

“Surrender,” he demanded, cocky.

“Never!” Jace retorted, shielding his face from Vermax’s persistent licks.

“Surrender!” Luke insisted, leaning in for emphasis.

Desperate, Jace decided to use his last-ditch appeal.

“Mum!”

But it was no use, because the only thing he heard from the living room was quick and calm —

“He won.”

Jace groaned, slumping as Luke threw his hands in the air like he'd just won an MMA fight. 

"Fine," he decided, throwing his head back dramatically. "Fine, you won."

Luke smirked at him, proud.

"Come, Arrax," he called, patting his leg. "Let him go."

Arrax obediently hopped off, leaving Jace to push Vermax off with a grunt.

"You traitor!" Jace accused, pointing a finger at his green cat.

Vermax, utterly unfazed, trotted off after Arrax, the two quickly getting in their own playful match, though a bit more violent. Jace just stayed sprawled on the floor, panting as he wiped his face with his sleeve in an attempt to dry off from all the licks.

"Do you even brush his teeth?" Jace teased Luke, feigning disgust. "His breath stinks!"

Luke gasped, deeply offended.

"It does not! I brush Arrax's teeth three times a day."

Jace blinked at him, incredulous.

"You — wait, actually?” he sat up. “You actually brush his teeth three times a day?"

"Of course," Luke replied, crossing his arms. "Good hygiene is important. You don’t brush Vermax’s teeth?”

He groaned, standing up.

“Vermax lets me do it once, at night, and that’s it,” he groaned. “How do you do that?”

Luke shrugged.

“I don’t know. I just do.”

Jace sighed, and Luke slapped his shoulder.

"Let's get food again, I'm hungry," Luke declared, already moving to the kitchen. "Come on."

Jace followed, passing their mum and Kepa in the living room. He was seated next to her, brushing her hair absentmindedly while reading over her shoulder. Eggy had moved to the floor to play with some toys near them, and Viz was still engrossed in his drawing at the corner of the table. Kepa glanced at them briefly as they passed.

"Don't forget about dinner," he called. "I'm making lobster risotto."

They returned to the kitchen, and Jace plopped into a chair at the table as Luke searched through the fridge, pulling random items out, probably for a sandwich.

"So," Luke started, not bothering to look at Jace as he got some bread from the fridge. "How long are you staying with us?"

Jace leaned back on his seat.

"The week," he replied. "Then we're heading to Dragonstone for a few days for a shoot, then a few days with that, and after that, King's Landing for the show."

Kepa’s cousin was filming a show about the old dragon kings and he really wanted some actual Targaryens in there for… probably promo and clout — he could now claim that actual Targaryens were present in a show about Targaryens — so he had asked Jace to come, and Jace said he would bring Cregan. They were gonna be extras and paid well, so it was nice.

“Who are you gonna be?” Luke asked.

Jace thought it for a moment, trying to remember it.

“Young Baratheon #4,” he decided. “I think. If they didn't change the character.”

He was surprised they even got a name. 

Luke chuckled but soon sobered, pulling a can of sparkling water from the fridge.

"He asked Kepa about me going, but Mum said no," he admitted. "Not that I wanted to, not with the party and everything.”

Jace nodded.

Luke was debuting this week, officially. He was going to be introduced as the Velaryon heir like Jace had been introduced as the Targaryen one when he was his age.

"You ready for it?" Jace asked, watching his brother carefully.

Luke didn’t answer for a moment, closing the fridge, seeming satisfied.

“I don’t know,” he mumbled.

Jace waited, watching him assemble his sandwich.

“I have this… weird feeling about it,” Luke said finally, not meeting his eyes. “Grandpa’s going to retire soon, and Dad told me he’s only holding the Lord of the Tides spot until I’m ready to take over. He thinks I’m the real heir, you know?”

Jace nodded, his gaze fixed on his brother.

It wasn’t surprising. Dad had never been the type to embrace leadership. He wasn’t like mum, he wasn’t a natural leader, which was fine. Dad preferred his work in law — calm, predictable, and far from the pressures of being the head of the family.

“We all know people are going to keep looking to Grandpa for guidance, for as long as he’s alive,” Luke continued, his voice quieter now.

He paused, glancing at Jace as though testing whether to go on.

“And when they stop looking at him and start looking at me as Lord of the Tides… it means he’ll be gone,” he breathed out.

The words hung heavily between them.

Jace swallowed hard, his shoulders sagging as he thought over his words, and exhaled slowly, resting his elbows on the table.

“Death’s part of life,” Jace shrugged. “We just have to make the most of what happens between the time we’re born and the time we die. And I know you will do that.”

Luke scoffed, clearly not believing him, but Jace wasn’t finished.

“Besides,” he added. “if it doesn’t feel right after a few years, you can always do what Dad did. Pick someone who fits the role better. There’s Joff, Baela, Rhaena… and I don’t even know how many Velaryons cousins we have. You don’t have to stay in a place you don’t love. You can step back if you need to.”

His brother shook his head.

“Grandpa chose me,” he insisted. “Since we were kids. I… I want to make him proud."

Jace softened. Of course he did. Grandpa was great with all of them, but Luke was his favourite, Jace knew it — everyone knew it.

“I get it,” he said quietly. “Of course you want to make him proud. He’s done a lot for all of us. But you don’t have to be exactly like him to succeed.”

“I’m not like him! Or Mum, or you,” Luke said, looking back at him with a frown. “What if I’m bad at it? What if I suck at guiding people? What if I’m too soft?”

“Soft doesn’t mean bad,” Jace reminded him, scoffing. “And… that kind of thing? It’s something you learn. I mean, I don’t even know how good I am at guiding people. It’s not something I’ve thought about much.”

As the words left his mouth, Jace paused, the thought settling awkwardly in his mind.

Was he going to be a good head of the family?

Sure, he had time — plenty of it. Mum wasn’t even 40 yet; he had at least another twenty years before it would be his turn to lead their family. Luke had time, too — at least a decade, right? Maybe more. Dad wouldn’t push him into the position until he was ready, even after Grandpa stepped back.

“Mum’s going to teach us,” Jace said, remembering what she had promised. “She was taught, too. She wasn’t born perfect at it.”

Luke’s expression softened slightly, but he was still unsure.

“You really think so?”

“I know so,” Jace corrected him. “You’ve got Dad’s patience, Mum’s heart, and Kepa’s younger brother audacity. You’ll figure it out. You’re better at this than you think.”

Luke looked down at his sandwich, his fingers still tearing the bread crust nervously, though there was a little on his lips from the joke, but his eyes were still full of doubt.

“It’s just… it feels big,” Luke muttered. “Bigger than me.”

Jace clapped a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it.

“It is big. But we’ll both be doing that. I’ll help you, you’ll help me. You won’t be alone.”

He wrapped his arms around Luke, squeezing him and patting his shoulder again, and his brother relaxed into it.

“Thanks,” he mumbled.

“And you know, what?” Jace teased him, shaking him a little. “He’s the Sea Snake, he earned that title. I think in some 30 years, we’ll be talking about how everyone calls you the Sea Dragon.”

At last, his little brother chuckled a bit, either amused or actually liking the idea of becoming Velaryon history like Grandpa was set to.

They spent the rest of the afternoon together, and Jace couldn’t help but savour the time. He’d missed Luke — really missed him. Before they were seven kids, or five kids, or even three kids, it had just been them. Jace and Luke, together through everything. Before Joff was born, before Baela and Rhaena became their sisters, and before Eggy and Viz came into their lives, it had always been the two of them. Those years felt like a lifetime ago, but moments like this brought them back.

Of course, Luke couldn’t resist teasing him about meeting Cregan — because of course he couldn’t. Little brothers were all like that. Jace rolled his eyes but managed to put a stop to it with a simple explanation: his boyfriend was sleeping and probably needed that time of rest before dinner.

Luke dropped the subject — mercifully — and the two of them shifted back into lighter conversation, no talk of death or succession. They chatted about school, home, their parents, and their siblings. Apparently, Viserys could already write his name, the little genius! Baela, meanwhile, was reportedly seeing some green-haired guy from school she wasn’t exactly keen on introducing to Luke, but Rhaena said they wouldn't last the month. They even talked about girls, and he got to laugh at Luke’s awkward first experiences — he wasn’t getting lucky at getting a first date with this girl from his class.

It was nice — easy and comfortable, the way things were with him.

When Kepa called up to let them know dinner would be out soon, Luke excused himself to help set the table and Jace went to wake Cregan.

He found his boyfriend sprawled across the bed, deep in sleep, drooling onto the mattress with his pillow nowhere in sight. The room was so cold Jace shivered and had to pull on his jacket again before climbing onto the bed. He leaned over, holding a laugh at the sight, and poked him gently. When that didn’t work, he pinched Cregan’s nose shut, jumping back just as his startled boyfriend jolted awake.

“Dinner’s almost ready,” Jace told him, finally giving in to a laugh. “You’ve got enough time to wash your face.”

Cregan groaned, raising a hand to rub his eyes as he yawned deeply.

“You got room service?” he mumbled, still groggy.

Jace raised his eyebrows.

“Room service?” he repeated. “With Kepa here? No way.”

There was no way he was skipping Kepa’s cooking — not after six months of surviving on Harwin’s questionable culinary attempts, his own barely passable meals, or just plain old takeout.

Cregan shook his head, yawning again, scratching his chest.

“Guess I’ll finally get to try Doctor Targaryen’s famous food, then,” he mumbled, pulling himself up. “Let me get something on.”

Jace flopped onto the bed, watching him move around the room. He wasn’t shy about openly eyeing his very shirtless boyfriend, a grin at his lips as Cregan stretched and started searching for a shirt.

“And brush your teeth,” Jace added. 

Cregan grunted something he couldn't understand made his way to the bathroom without complaining, a shirt and a pair of shorts thrown over his shoulder and no shoes on. When he returned, fully dressed and fresher, Jace pulled him along outside. 

“Luke’s here, by the way,” Jace mentioned casually as they headed out.

“The favourite brother,” Cregan teased, smirking. “Gotcha.”

He rolled his eyes. Yeah, yeah, fine. The moment they stepped out into the corridor, Jace could feel how — though warmer than his room — the common areas were cooler now. Still, he took off his jacket, because he didn’t need it, and they moved to the living room.

Of course, the first thing that happened when Jace stepped inside was a chorus of not just his siblings, but his very own mother, calling out to him-

“Dinner dishes!”

“Oh, dammit!” he exclaimed.

Jace had forgotten. The single, most important rule of dinner and he had forgotten.

He looked at Cregan, and his boyfriend was looking at him with a very confused look.

“Last to arrive at dinner has to clean the dishes,” Jace explained with a resigned sigh. “Targaryen house rules.”

“Not our fault you forgot about it after months of being an only child,” Baela teased, smirking. “Hi again, Cregan.”

“Hello, Cregan,” everyone else echoed as if they’d rehearsed it.

Cregan raised a shy hand in return, caught off guard.

“Hello,” he said softly, his voice a little unsure but polite.

Luke quickly stood up, extending a hand to Cregan

“Hey,” he said, smiling. “I’m Luke.”

Cregan exhaled as he shook Luke’s hand, looking a bit relieved.

“Hey. Nice to meet you. Jace talks a lot about you.”

“Of course he does,” Luke grinned mischievously. “I’m his favourite. Nice to meet you, too.”

They all moved to sit down, with Cregan ending up between Jace and Luke. His back was all stiff, clearly tense, though he tried his best to look comfortable, and Jace nudged him a little. 

“Relax," he whispered. "They’re not as scary as they look.”

Of course, Luke overheard it,

“Speak for yourself,” he corrected him. “I can be very scary when I want to be.”

Jace rolled his eyes, and Mum walked back to the table with Viserys’ plate, securing it to the highchair before helping him sit on it.

“Cregan, everyone who isn’t in a high chair serves themselves,” she said with a soft smile on her face. “We’ve got a salad with cucumbers, cherry tomatoes, arugula, and some nuts. For drinks, there’s wine or cold lemon sparkling water.”

Jace glanced at Cregan, who was staring at his mother with barely concealed surprise.

“Of course, ma’am,” Cregan responded quickly, sitting up straighter.

“We usually put the dishes on the table,” Mum explained, as Eggy got up from his seat. “but there isn’t much space here. Daemon’s bringing the wine in a bit.”

Cregan nodded again, a little too formally, and she walked off with Eggy to the kitchen, leaving the rest of them at the table, and Viserys was already happily eating his salad, pinching the tomatoes and making happy little moves at them — he liked cherry tomatoes. Actually, he liked nearly everything.

“Wine?” Cregan whispered, leaning close to Jace, his tone full of disbelief.

Another thing he’d forgotten.

“Yeah,” he whispered back, “they let us drink with them at dinner after we turn 15. You don’t have to if you don’t wanna, but it’s available.”

Before Cregan could respond, Baela’s voice cut through the murmured conversation.

“There’s no ‘villain food,’” she announced loudly, clearly eavesdropping. Her tone was casual, but her smirk betrayed her amusement as she kept her eyes on Cregan. “Or drink, for that matter. As long as you know not to overdo it, you’re fine.”

Cregan turned to Jace, his face blank with confusion. His expression made it clear Baela might as well have said all that in High Valyrian. Jace couldn’t help snorting.

“It’s fine,” he reassured his boyfriend. “You’ll get used to us eventually.”

Mum came back with Eggy, and Jace stood up, urging Cregan to come along with him, and they served themselves. The risotto’s smelled amazing from the kitchen, and it made his stomach growl loudly. Honestly, he could eat the whole pan if there weren't so many people ready to kill him if he did.

“Your little brothers like lobster?” he asked. “Like… they don’t ask for nuggets when dinner is this fancy?”

Jace shook his head, though not that surprised. He knew his little brothers weren’t exactly like other kids with their food habits, but to their family, it was pretty normal.

“They eat what we eat,” he replied with a shrug. “Kepa usually takes suggestions during the week, but they’re not picky.”

As he scooped a generous portion of risotto onto his plate, he added -

“Actually, Luke is picky, but the younger bunch? They’re good.”

Cregan raised an eyebrow, looking curious.

“Younger bunch?” he echoed.

Jace stepped aside to let Cregan serve himself.

“Yeah, we kind of divide the kids that way. There’s the old bunch and the young bunch. Kepa had Baela and Rhaena, like… three months before I was born, then I came along, and Luke two years after me. But then my parents still had an embryo stored with the clinic.”

He glanced over his shoulder to the dining and living room to make sure no one was eavesdropping, lowering his voice before continuing.

“I think my parents kind of knew they were going to divorce, so they decided to get Joff implanted before that. He was born when I was eight. Then they split, Mum married Kepa, and two years later, Aegon came along. Then Viserys about three years after that. So, there’s this gap between us and the younger kids.”

Cregan processed this for a moment, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“That’s… complicated,” he said lightly, adding risotto to his plate. “But it sounds like it works for you.”

Jace chuckled softly.

“Most of the time. It’s a bit chaotic sometimes, but we’ve got a system.”

They moved back to the dining room, and Kepa had already returned with the bottle of wine, holding it with a flat look on his face as Luke sniffed a glass before handing it back to Mum.

“I’ll stick to lemon water,” his brother decided.

Kepa rolled his eyes as Mum took her glass and began pouring for Baela and Rhaena before moving on to Jace and Cregan.

“Thanks,” Jace said, accepting a glass without hesitation. He glanced at Cregan. “Cregan?”

His boyfriend’s eyes moved between Jace, his parents, and the wineglass like this was some test. After what felt like an eternity, he nodded slowly. 

“Thanks,” Cregan mumbled, taking the glass slowly. 

What, did he think they poisoned it. 

“We don’t bite,” Kepa warned him, simply pouring the wine and moving on to do so to his own glass before putting it down somewhere no one could bump into it. "Or spit fire."

Cregan’s ears flushed red, but he managed a small nod in return.

“Right,” he mumbled.

Jace scoffed, sipping his wine before giving Cregan’s knee a little squeeze under the table.

“I do,” he mouthed it to him, moving to eat.

And maybe his boyfriend waited until Jace, Baela and Rhaena had had some wine to drink his own, but the rest of dinner went on fine.

…

“bloodbrothers” is a Jacegan modern AU, part of my Keeping Up with the Targaryens series. To have early access to each chapter 3 months before they are posted here and on AO3, consider subscribing to my Patreon. It’s just $2 and I promise you won’t regret it. Chapter 20 is just up 😉.

Tag list is open and +18. DM me to be added.

[multifamdomfan]

Merrigold Brandybuckle

Merrigold Brandybuckle was always a bit of an oddball, even by Tookish standards. Born in Buckland to a family of well-respected hobbits who valued tradition, good food, and sensible living, Merri had little interest in any of it—unless it involved gears, gadgets, and the occasional controlled explosion.

From a young age, she was drawn to the workings of things rather than their appearances. While other hobbits enjoyed the comforts of home, Merri was in the shed behind her family's smial, tinkering with strange contraptions made of scrap metal, bits of wood, and whatever else she could get her hands on. Her inventions often almost worked—until they didn’t. There were more than a few incidents where she accidentally set fire to her mother’s prized rose bushes or launched a teapot halfway across the Brandywine River. But as far as Merri was concerned, failure was just another step toward success.

With her gap-toothed grin and ever-present goggles perched on her curly black hair, Merri carried herself with a confidence that most found either endearing or slightly alarming. She had a habit of laughing in the face of disaster, making grand (if slightly melodramatic) speeches about the future of hobbit innovation, and occasionally cackling wildly when inspiration struck. She was clever, determined, and just a little bit of a troublemaker, much to the dismay of her more traditional relatives.

Despite her eccentricities, Merri had a good heart. She never meant to cause chaos—well, not too much chaos, anyway. She was fiercely loyal to her friends, always willing to lend a hand (or an experimental device) if they needed help. She wasn’t much of a fighter, but she was quick-thinking and resourceful, which made her surprisingly useful in a pinch.

When word of Bilbo Baggins’ adventure spread through the Shire, Merri found herself dreaming of a world beyond Buckland—one filled with ancient mysteries, lost treasures, and so many things to tinker with. She longed to prove that hobbits could be more than just gardeners and bakers. They could be inventors, innovators, visionaries! (She declared this from the roof of her smial one evening, but her family was more concerned about how she got up there in the first place.)

So when adventure eventually found its way to her doorstep—whether by accident or by some twist of fate—Merrigold Brandybuckle grabbed her tools, adjusted her goggles, and grinned.

Because, really—what was the worst that could happen?

Personality Traits:

Genius-Level Inventiveness – She has a sharp mind and a passion for invention, constantly coming up with ambitious (and sometimes reckless) ideas.

Dramatic Flair – She has a larger-than-life presence, loving grand speeches, dramatic gestures, and making an impression wherever they go.

Chaotic but Well-Meaning – They genuinely want to do good, but their methods can be… questionable. Plans often go awry, but they bounce back with a confident grin.

Overconfident Yet Endearing – They fully believe in their own brilliance, even when things explode in their face. Their charm keeps people from staying mad at them for too long.

Mischievous & Playful – They enjoy a bit of harmless troublemaking, whether it’s through elaborate pranks, witty banter, or bending the rules to get things done.

Loyal & Protective – Deep down, they care immensely for their friends and loved ones. If someone threatens those they hold dear, they’ll go from joking to dead serious in an instant.

Sarcastic & Witty – Always ready with a sharp remark, they enjoy engaging in playful debates and outsmarting others.

Resilient & Determined – No matter how many times they fail, they refuse to give up. They take setbacks as lessons rather than defeats.

How She Express Herselves:

Over-the-Top Monologues – They’ll turn even a small failure into a theatrical speech about perseverance.

Casual Confidence – Even when things go horribly wrong, they act as if they meant for it to happen.

Flaws:

High-Strung & Anxious Energy – Even though she’s confident in her ideas, she tends to overthink and stress about things going wrong (which, let’s be honest, they often do). She might ramble when nervous or start frantically adjusting her goggles when under pressure.

Socially Awkward but Endearing – She’s not the best at casual conversation and sometimes blurts out weird, overly detailed explanations about her latest project instead of saying hello. She might accidentally insult someone without meaning to, then panic and make it way worse by trying to explain.

Fidgety & Restless – She can’t sit still for long and always needs to be doing something, whether it’s tinkering with a gadget, tapping her fingers, or pacing while monologuing about her brilliant new idea.

Flustered Easily – Despite her confidence, when things don’t go as expected (especially in social situations), she gets flustered, stammering or scrambling to save face. She tries to act smooth, but it rarely works.

Overdramatic Reactions to Stress – If something doesn’t go according to plan, she might throw up her hands and dramatically declare, “This is fine! Everything is fine! I am not panicking!” (while absolutely panicking).

Accidentally Intimidating at Times – She has flair for the dramatic and manic energy, which means she can come across as intimidating—even when she’s just excitedly explaining how her latest contraption probably won’t explode this time.

Phrases she might say:

“Oh my golly, that wasn’t supposed to happen!” (as smoke rises from her latest invention)

“Well, butter my biscuits and call me a Took!” (when she’s surprised or impressed)

“This is fine! Everything is perfectly under control!” (when things are very much NOT fine)

“Sweet biscuits and gravy, I’ve done it!” (when an invention actually works… before breaking moments later)

“By the hairy toes of a Baggins, I’ve got an idea!” (right before causing a minor disaster)

She has a very expressive way of talking, full of exaggerated gestures and dramatic pauses, making even mundane conversations sound like grand declarations of importance.

[kindheart525]

Red Cedar paced around the basement where her band normally held their practices, no song in her heart but a cacophony of feelings as she wasn’t here to make music this time. She had set up a board covered in pictures, lists, and letters to make sense of her feelings. Or at least, try to.

Unable to come up with any solutions herself, Cedar had enlisted her sister, Blue Velvet, and her bandmate, Blueberry Sticks, to give her advice. For now, they sat listening as she rambled on and on.

“-and that’s why I just don’t know what to do! I’m attracted to both of them, and I know I shouldn’t be! But I can’t make myself stop! Do you two have ANY ideas?”

Blueberry looked over the board with a smirk on her face.

“Yeah, I say we turn this into the Hissing Roaches’ next single. It’d be a hit!”

Blue Velvet nudged her disapprovingly.

“Oh, you mean like, actual advice?”

Cedar nodded frantically. 

“YES!”

Blue Velvet pondered for a moment, twirling her mane as she mulled over the situation.

“There are lots of different types of crushes. You can be attracted to their body, or their personality, or just the IDEA of a relationship. Remind me what you like about Brackish?”

“I don’t even know how to describe it! It’s like he unlocked these...awful desires I didn’t even know I had! He’s handsome, he’s mysterious, he’s strong, and he made me feel small but in a good way. When he saved me from drowning and told me to be careful I just...melted. He made me feel taken care of.”

Cedar looked at the photo of Brackish pinned to the board and swooned a little.

“He makes you feel...small? And you want that? What kind of oppression kink—“

“Doesn’t Rainier take care of you too? How is he different?”

Blue Velvet inquired, speaking over Blueberry before she could embarrass her more conservative sister further.

“Of course he does, he’s a perfect gentlecolt! He always communicates with me before doing anything and he goes above and beyond with letting me know he loves me. Just look at the letters he’s written me!”

Cedar pointed at a few papers scattered around the board.

“I can really see a future with him. He respects me and treats me like an equal partner. But Brackish is new and mysterious; he’s not an open book like Rainier but it’s like I want to figure him out. He seems to know how to treat a mare like...a mare.”

“Wait, you’re saying you DON’T want to be treated like an equal partner? Are you shitting me?”

Blueberry snorted.

“You’d give up the good thing you got with Rainier to run after a guy you barely know? And not even a good one, this one sounds like a real asshole. He’s obviously trying to get in your head and you’re just letting him! And he clearly doesn’t respect you. I don’t know what the hell you mean by ‘treating a mare like a mare’ but you need to get your head screwed on right.”

“I think what she means to say is, Rainier treats you really well and communicates with you. So you should do the same for him. Talk to him before making any big decisions. Think it through. You two have something really special and I don’t think it’s worth letting go of.”

Blueberry nodded in agreement.

“Yeah, I don’t think we’re the ones you should be talking to here.”

Cedar’s heart dropped as she realized what she had to do. They were right, if she valued communication she had to put it into practice herself. No matter how much it hurt.

~~~~~~~~~~

Previous: Shaking In Her Horseshoes Next: Hesitation

[somewhat-insane]

Shadows of the Beach: Chapter One

(Here's the masterpost.)

.

Remnants of His Past

Pairing: Ao Lie/Sun Wukong/Macaque

Rating: Teen and up Audiences (for mild language)

Tags: Playful Banter, Flashbacks, Teasing, Awkwardness, Slow Burn, Background Freenoodles

A/N: This is my first time posting any of my fics on Tumblr so the formatting may be a bit off, feel free to read it on Ao3 instead if that makes you more comfortable ;3.

Summary:

As if the entire situation with Azure Lion hadn't been world-shattering (quite literally) enough, Wukong gains information that sends him spiraling.

What is one to do when it turns out your best friend/kind of homoerotic lover didn't actually die and now you have to introduce him to your ex-best friend/other kind of homoerotic lover?

Visits to Pigsy's noodles had recently become relatively routine for Sun Wukong. 

It was good eating, that he already knew ever since Pigsy took over the shop, but before he had always just had them delivered (Tang, he remembered, had briefly done the deliveries for Pigsy in turn for free noodles, which explained why Pigsy had yet to kick the “freeloader” out, that and, at some point along the line, they had gotten “married” (it wasn’t really a wedding at all, not legally anyway, but they considered eachother married and that was enough for them)… which Wukong, having known them in their past lives was… very conflicted about.) He could just make noodles with his powers but there was something nostalgic about the taste and smell of Pigsy’s noodles that reminded Wukong of deep laughter around the campfire and calloused, hard-working hands that meant well despite their owner’s arrogance and aggression. 

Even before he and MK had officially met (or before MK had learned Wukong had been watching him which, okay, now that he mentioned it, it did sound kind of creepy,) Wukong would order and set the address as some random abandoned house or temple where he would utilize his 72 transformations to retrieve it. 

Or, alternatively, he would send a clone out into the city to pick it up, but that was riskier as his clones had something of a habit of getting hit by cars and mortals weren’t exactly used to having the person they hit with their car poof into magical smoke. Perhaps he should’ve expected embodiments of his centuries-old magic might not be entirely “up to date” with modern-day civilization, especially back when he was hiding out like a hermit. 

Comparatively, when he had it delivered, after having figured out how phones worked, the hardest part was always hiding his tail. Which normally wasn’t that much of an issue but…

Look, it wasn’t his fault he got so excited at the idea of food! It probably made it worse that the cooking really did remind him of when Zhu Bajie had finally gotten the hang of it. A little more modern though but not to the point of the frozen mass-produced meat that the rest of the city used. No, Pigsy still made all of his meals by hand, the difference coming from the more modernized techniques people had learned to use to draw out the flavor more. In some cases, outside of Pigsy’s Noodles, what people do to enhance their food was borderline poisonous to the human body but if Wukong had learned anything over the years it was that humans valued very little more than money. They’re not the only species that eat what is essentially poison to them. Like, koalas for instance. None of that affected him though, not being a particularly big fan of cooked food (with the exception of Pigsy’s noodles), as he was a monkey, and he was immortal, so he didn’t really care.

He had started actually going into the shop after the scroll incident, partially because he was growing closer to the crew, and–even if the memories still made him fidgety around them–he had started seeing them as their own people and not the friends he used to be acquainted with. Beyond that, his time in the scroll had kicked up some old feelings inside of him that he didn’t exactly want to face on his own. Not that he would talk about his feelings or anything–that wasn’t exactly his style–but his thoughts weren’t as loud when he surrounded himself with small talk and idle banter which came surprisingly easy when it came to the crew. It allowed him to fall into the familiar pattern of ignoring festering problems until they blew up in his face.

Perhaps that’s why he tended to turn everything into a joke or a game, it made it easier to ignore everything.

Eh, he wasn’t going to think too much about it right now.

As he flew over the water on his cloud, he reminded himself that, this time, as he was headed to the small hole-in-the-wall establishment, he was not coming for noodles and banter.

Roughly half an hour earlier, MK had relayed a message to him via telepathic communication (he didn’t get a nosebleed this time! … though he did stub his toe while distracted.) Apparently, the nerd- er, Tang (he had promised himself he would start actually calling them by their names… no matter how much inner turmoil it caused him) had a theory he wanted Wukong’s opinion on… or something like that, admittedly MK’s explanation was rather vague which was… out of character for the boy who had seemingly picked up his father’s tendency to ramble. 

Again, Wukong decided not to think too much about it. 

Having to talk to Tang about theories and the like was something he was used to as Tang had jumped at the opportunity to gain more insight into the Journey to the West through Wukong’s own experiences but this seemed… different. Something in the way MK seemed more… hesitant made him uneasy.

This unease was only heightened when he dispelled his Nimbus and landed in front of the building, only to walk in and see the entire group (Pigsy, Tang, MK, Mei, Sandy, and even Mo) there waiting expectantly for him. 

Now, he knew it wasn’t exactly uncommon for them to be there all at once since they seemed to all have been friends long before Wukong became a present being in their dynamic, and group meet-ups had become a semi-regular occurrence for the crew after the scroll incident; they all tried to find times when everyone was free and would hang out over a movie or a barbeque, talking and laughing and digging up old wounds because Sandy’s soft smile reminds Wukong of the way Sha Wujing would encourage them all, Pigsy’s laugh is a bit too similar to Zhu Bajie’s - a hearty sound Wukong would never forget for the joy it stirred inside of him - and Tang seemed to have Tripitaka’s tendency to fidget when nervous, but it wasn’t exactly common either.

All eyes turned to him making Wukong shift uncomfortably with the attention as he chuckled nervously, “Uh, heh, is this an intervention or something?”

Idly he was reminded of the scolding looks he would get from the Jade Emperor or Guanyin when he had done something bad, but he also recognized the looks as something more akin to what he received from his master, a pitying look. A concerned look.

…

Was this an intervention!?

MK, being the absolutely amazing person he is, offered a soft–if not slightly pitying–smile in response to his mentor’s joke but the expression didn’t reach his eyes, and his brows were furrowed slightly, almost as if in thought.

After a moment, his strained smile falls away and he averts his eyes to a random spot on the ground, idly fiddling with his keychain, the soft jingle it brought being the only noise throughout the room.

Wukong’s smile also falls in response to the absence of MK’s and he sits down at the counter with a rare serious expression on his face.

“Alright, what’s the bad news? We got another big bad headed our way?” he asks, tail flicking anxiously as he studies everyone’s expressions, trying to gauge what could be happening.

The group shared an apprehensive look before Tang sighed, opening and closing his mouth as if at a loss for words–or afraid to speak the ones he did have–before he nervously slid a scroll toward Wukong. Wukong raised a brow, unfurling the scroll and letting his eyes skim over the contents. 

Contrary to popular belief, he could read, he wrote a letter and made that game to teach MK about the importance of setting up a counter attack instead of just using brute force, but now, he was almost convinced otherwise.

His brows furrowed as he looked over it again and again, not believing what he saw on the page.

Finally, he resigns himself to the reality he was being exposed to and his jaw clenches as he looks over at the others with stern, searching eyes, each of them waiting with bated breath for his reaction, which luckily wasn’t as immediately explosive as they expected.

Immediantely being the key word there.

~

Wukong thought he was done. 

He thought he was done with his buried feelings about his past being dug up and shoved in his face like his old laundry when Macaque finds it on the ground. (As much as he enjoyed being on speaking terms with Macaque again, he could’ve lived without the other constantly berating his slobish lifestyle.) 

As soon as he confirmed what he was reading with the others, he had burst out of the shop (quite literally as he had broke a hole through the wall,) and headed back toward Flower Fruit Mountain.

Logically, Wukong knew the peace he had found amongst MK and the others wouldn’t last forever and he would have to continue facing his inner turmoils just like MK and Sandy had been helping him to and how life had been pushing him to. Being immortal and all, things were bound to resurface sooner or later, but for crying out loud life could’ve at least given him a month without a mental breakdown!

The fly back to Flower Fruit Mountain was the same as it always had been, though a large chunk of the mountain, along with his hut and most of his treasure heap, had been taken out during the battle with Azure. While inconvenient, the situation wasn’t something Wukong couldn’t adapt to, a small cabin now sat on the beach of the island, just beyond the treeline, as a testament to that. 

For the second time that day, Wukong found himself dispelling his cloud and landing, this time on sand, stumbling a bit amidst his urgency. When the sand that had been kicked up from his landing settled and he regained his balance, he prepared to dart into the cabin but paused, seeing a figure near his hut, shadow magic dancing around them as they instructed two others seemingly born of the shadows to do… something. Wukong couldn’t really tell from here.

The being was clearly aware of Wukong’s presence as three of his six ears were angled towards him, presumably listening to what he was doing but too preoccupied to give him their entire attention just yet.

“Macaque?” Wukong called, hesitantly moving towards him, catching the attention of the two shadow creatures, who Wukong vaguely remembered as Rumble and Savage, “what are you doing here-”

Wukong is interrupted by a sigh from Macaque, who still hasn’t turned around to look at him, making Rumble and Savage chuckle to each other before being shut up, presumably with a glare from Macaque who finally turns around to face Wukong with a forced smirk, “putting the finishing touches your cabin like I agreed I would. Or have you already forgotten? I’m not surprised, you’ve never really been able to fit much up there,” Macaque then turns his head towards Rumble and Savage who seem amused at the interaction, “a moment of silence, please, for this poor fool’s intelligence.”

Rumble and Savage chuckle once again and this time, Macaque allows it, looking at Wukong with that stupid smug face he makes when he believes he’s getting under Wukong’s skin. And he is, because he knows exactly how.

But he doesn’t have time for that right now. So instead of making a snarky remark in turn, he takes a deep breath in through his nose, the voice of his master echoing through his head as he urges himself to calm down.

“No violence, Monkey.”

“Anger will not serve you.”

“Caution, Wukong, listen to what is being said.”

That last one… wasn’t his master.

The memory of Ao Lie’s voice urging him to wait and listen before striking gave birth to a fresh wave of urgency in Wukong’s soul, but he paused to remember the context of his words…

~

“We have no reason to trust that flea-ridden pest!” Zhu Bajie’s gruff voice had rang out around the campsite, grating on Wukong’s already frayed nerves, “one should trust not the being who needs to be kept on a leash!”

Wukong’s eye twitched in irritation as the only nerve left that seemed to be tying him to his sanity was struck and he grit his teeth, finally dropping down from the tree he had been hiding in, “that ‘leash’ is the very reason one should trust me you overgrown hog!”

“Zhu Bajie, Sun Wukong-” their master had tried to intervene, only to easily be talked over by the more boisterous pig.

“My words weren’t directed toward you, runt,” the pig spat toward Wukong.

“Your words are unfounded, swine,” Wukong grit out with clenched fists, willing himself not to attack, the only thing detering him being the threat of the golden fillet. His “leash” as the swine so distastefully called it.

A hand on his shoulder made Wukong jolt slightly, turning his searing gaze toward the person next to him, expecting to see Sha Wujing, only to falter when instead he saw Ao Lie, the white horse dragon he hadn’t yet become well acquainted with.

“Caution, Wukong, listen to what is being said. I do not believe you are hearing the words for all they are,” he spoke, voice gentle and melodic, a nice change from the gruff sound of the pig, “I should suggest patience.”

The words confused Wukong and he frowned, “what do you imply?”

“Perhaps do not listen to what the swine says, but why he says it.”

Wukong’s frown only deepened, “I know why he says it-”

“No, my friend, you think you know why he says such things. You take his aggression at surface level, but I find aggression is rarely mere aggression,” Ao Lie pauses, adding with a playful smirk, “unless the aggressor is an immortal stone monkey with no regard for those outside of his kingdom.”

Sun Wukong’s first instinct is to quip back defensively in response to that last part, but as the first part registers he pauses, and he wrinkles his nose in confusion and distaste, “you speak words of a fool, aggression is nothing but.”

“He is afraid, my friend. And I find I can’t blame him, your legacy proceeds you,” Ao Lie hums, “perhaps the real fool would be one who so easily trusts a man known for his lack of empathy towards anyone but himself.”

A smirk finds its way onto Wukong’s lips, “so you call yourself a fool?”

“One finds it bold to assume I trust you,” Ao Lie replies easily, unaffected by Wukong’s words. 

The monkey watched with wide, curious eyes as Ao Lie moved to sit with their master, easily starting up idle chatter. 

With a frown, Wukong’s gaze trailed over to the swine who was being calmed down by Sha Wujing. The monkey’s brow furrowing in thought.

Trust… it’s been a long time since he’s had to, or wanted to for that matter, earn trust. He usually just scared people into submission. He hasn’t needed to work for trust since…

Since, well, him…

~

Wukong let out his breath.

Listen… what else was being said, what was Wukong not hearing?

Macaque shouldn’t be afraid… he couldn’t be.

What were his exact words before he defaulted to mockery?

“putting the finishing touches your cabin like I agreed I would. Or have you already forgotten?”

Of course he hadn’t forgotten! When your ex-best friend agrees to help build you a temporary cabin it’s not exactly something that just slips your mind. Did Macaque…

Did Macaque really believe he was that unimportant to him?

“I didn’t forget,” Wukong finally said, trying to keep his tone as even as possible to not come off as defensive, the response making Macaque raise a brow, obviously not what he expected, “I was going to ask, what are you doing here alone? Wasn’t Sandy supposed to help you finish up?”

Macaque looks taken aback for a moment, even Rumble and Savage’s expressions fall. After a moment, Macaque pulls himself from his shock with a scoff and looks away, crossing his arms, “he said one of his cats got sick and he’s busy taking care of it.”

Wukong makes a small, “oh” noise and is about to consider going to check on the big guy (he’s been helping Wukong and Macaque a lot when it comes to the “not killing each other” stuff) but then he remembers what he was doing in the first place, “oh, right!”

“Huh?” Before Macaque can even ask what Wukong’s talking about, the golden furred monkey had darted into the cabin, leaving nothing but kicked up sand in his wake. Macaque coughs and waves it out of his face, grimacing as he takes note of how much got in his fur.

“Damn you Wukong…” Macaque growls, turning to Rumble and Savage, “you two finish up here, I’ll go make sure he’s not doing anything stupid.”

The two shadow beings give him a mock salute and Macaque levels them with a knowing glare, “and don’t break anything.”

They nod nervously, sighing in relief once Macaque disappears into a shadow to follow Wukong. Silently, they look at each other, mischievous grins growing across their faces as they agreed that they were, indeed, going to break something.

Macaque uses Wukong’s shadow to follow him into the spare room where the remnants of the treasure hoard were stored. Most of it was stuff that couldn’t be destroyed, but there were some nick-nacks here and there that, despite all odds, survived with minimal damage. There was a monkey cop figure that had its face melted off that Wukong insisted on keeping though. Macaque still regularly had nightmares of that thing coming alive to murder him.

Wukong sifts throught the piles, panic obvious in the way he moves, seemingly searching for something.

Brows furrowing in confusion and possibly slight concern, Macaque emerges from the shadows and crosses his arms, “what’s gotten into you, Wukong?”

Said monkey’s ear twitches but he doesn’t respond immediately, diving into another pile. Macaque is about to say something again before Wukong pops back out, tail flicking in irritation, seemingly not being able to find what he was looking for. With a sigh, Wukong looks up at Macaque, eyes stern but glimmering with concern, “Ao Lie might be alive.” Macaque has to take a second to digest this information, eyes going wide, “... w h a t.”

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