#clones know that they may not see tomorrow or even the end of the day so that's adding to how important something like nail polish is

[1-800-crscnt]

i've been thinking of Fox or just any clone on Coruscant introducing any frontline troopers to nail polish and the designs possible for the first time. maybe on leave, Wolffe sees Fox's nails and asks what injury caused their appearance. Fox explains it's just decorative, nothing permanent, and convinces Wolffe to go with rainbow nails, which he shows several 104th troopers who also try it out, and so it spreads to other battalions, and they want to try out this new and interesting thing too. it means a lot to them since it's another way to be unique in their circumstances, so i like to think that Fox has his men steal polish and horde it until battalions come back to Coruscant for whatever reason, and then he just gives them a ton of boxes of it. but i will be honest, i was only really thinking of this in the first place because i keep imagining Wolffe and Fox with black nail polish.

[fantasticarcadefan]

First there was war.

|Warning, graphic descriptions, calculated desperation, curse words, refers to untold amounts of trauma caused by deaths to the reader|

|Imposter SAGAU x Soulsborne Female Creator|

Part 1/2

(First time gendering the reader, throw a sky scraper of criticism onto me on where to improve)

You've been sent to hell and back several times, and now she thinks she can admit it and live? Be her judgement for her transgression.

If fate was a person, you would chop them into pencil shaving sized pieces while it's still alive.

You don't remember when this all started, all you do recall is that you fell asleep one day and the next, you ended up in a land called Boletaria, starting your lives in hell. And it has been about the same situation ever since, with you being transported into several other worlds, all of which had you die. A lot.

Whether it was Yharnim, the Lands Between, Sengoku Era Japan, or the three kingdoms that need a flame to be re-lit to keep humanity thriving, all had a common factor of putting you through hell, dying over and over again and losing those you cared about in each world, with the only benefits you had were that your skills had sharpened over time with each death and that your gear was saved and interchangeable per world.

But even that wasn't fully a blessing, with you often needing to do several of what you call endings, a different fate that would take hold in what ever world you were in, making you lose all of the weapons that you gathered in that world.

And as a result, you became akin to a shell of yourself with how you've changed. If you were to suddenly be taken back to Earth and see your family and friends again, you're sure they wouldn't recognize you.

Worse still, you remembered each death and life you lived vividly, and every friend from those worlds that you lost.

Yet for some reason, you always had the courage to go forward. You always had hope for a better tomorrow, with it growing more and more in each hell you entered and left.

Now, you find yourself chained up in the chamber of a massive chapel, standing in front of your doppelganger, the supposed creator of Teyvat, with her babbling on and on about god knows what, being adorned in what you assumed to be the finest clothes and jewelry they have gotten from the people.

Around you, a huge crowd of said people consisting of both NPC'S and most of the characters that you used to admire listened on to her fervently, with the archons besides Furina who may have been among the sea of people in the crowd with Neuvillette taking her place flanking this clone of you.

Oddly enough, you find yourself wearing the same clothes that you wore when you fell asleep on your last night on Earth.

Honestly, if it weren't the tight chains on you, you're pretty sure you would have fallen asleep several times over due to how annoying she was. Compared to those-

"Are you even listening to me??!!" The imposter yells out, bringing you back to reality with that indignant look on her face.

A moment of silence befell the chamber as all the attention was focused on you, awaiting your reaction. You tried to think of a response, trying to recall what they were talking about. Eventually, you came up with nothing and were unable to think of an excuse.

"I'm sorry, sir what were we talking about?" You asked. The crowd yelled in uproar, unconvinced that you didn't know about your focus.

A blade suddenly appeared in front of you, almost slicing your neck, with its owner, Raiden Ei, on your right. "I would suggest you listen more carefully, heretic. Though their grace wants you alive, she has said nothing about harming you." Ei says, her voice full of venom. "Her word is eternal, while you're damned to the pages of history."

"Enough Raiden." The Imposter said, calling the Electro Archon back. Ei shot one final glare at you before returning to the imposter's side.

"You know, for someone who has gone through the abyss and back, you seem to be as defiant, like you're proud of your transgressions when I'm offering you a chance of redemption." The imposter monologues, getting your attention. How did she know about where you've been.

"I wonder," She continues. "If i brought you here before you were sentenced, would you be as high and mighty as you act, usurper?"

Silence is your response. 'Sentence? What does she mean by before?' You wonder, caution and anger rising at what she's implying. "What are you talking about?" You ask. The crowd gasps before more talking comes from them. 'Drama queens.' You think before focusing on "you".

"We both know what I'm talking about, but it seems I may have to remind you, demon." She says, her tone full of venom before taking a deep breath before telling her story.

"Long ago, shortly after I reascended into Celestia, you went ahead and appeared at the tree of Imursul, altering its knowledge so that you would descend in my place instead. Luckily, I found the change and once I descended, I made some, adjustments to yours, giving you some, "detours", before your audience with me." She says, with a smile appearing on her face.

The color starts to leave your face, before it returns, flooded by red rage. All of this, over you claiming to be someone that you didn't know exists, and the result was you put into hell over and over again.

"All of that didn't have to happen had you not sought to rule. That is the only way this could've been avoided."

A million thoughts run through your mind. All centered on making this bitch suffer. But deep in your mind, one thing always comes up.

You only got one shot at this. Take her out, and this eternal nightmare is over. No more hells, no more dying over and over.

And so, steeling your resolve, and a plan in mind, you take a deep breath, before devoiding your face and voice of emotion. Though you had no weapons on you, you were unsure of how else to push through.

"I finally get it." You say, your head facing the floor.

The crowd starts murmuring, eager to see what would happen, how you would confess, and your punishment that they'd see.

"Oh? And what would that be?" She asks, amused.

"You're not the benevolent goddess that gave life to Teyvat, rather your the primordial sin!" You yell at her, shooting your head up and staring directly into her eyes.

Uproar comes from the crowd, with a wave of disapproval and rage coming from them.

The archons and Neuvillette have varying reactions.

Zhongli and Ei look ready to tear you apart while internally hurting on the inside, seemingly trying to reject your words.

Venti has a stone face but you can sense a tone of sadness in him.

Nahida has a smirk appear in hear face before returning it to an emotionless one.

Neuvillette seems to have taken a deep breath while cooling his emotions, making him unreadable and unsure if he feels rage or sadness.

Mavuika meanwhile, showed a determined look, liking the prospect of a fight, but her eyes seem to betray her body's ideals, with tears rising in her eyes.

The Tsaritsa's face showed that of anger while her eyes agreed with you, semmingly longing to stand beside you.

At least, that's what you hoped they were thinking. For in truth, you had no idea on their internal stuggles since this "creator" was thrown into the picture.

"Deny it all you want, you know it's true!" You yell, stoking the flames. "Every tragedy that has occurred, she's been responsible for! The Archon War! The monsters of the world! Khaenr'iah! All of it was preventable!" You yell, eyeing the archons to see who'd react first.

"But nooo. She had to make you all suffer to determine your "devotion", and failed as a cre-!"

Unable to bear it, EI went ahead and tried to strike you down while Zhongli trying to crush you where you stood. In a second, you pulled on your arm chains hard, catching the guards off as you had the chains take your necks place for the chopping block.

As they were cut, you felt electricity course into your veins from the chains electrifying you and those that held your leg chains, in which you saw them let go of your leg chains.

Looking up to see the falling meteor, you jumped ahead, avoiding the meteor, but your chains were caught in its impact zone.

Seeing this, you tilted your feet and wrists for them to come off easier. Though both hurt,and you likely sprained a few of your toe and finger bones, you were now free from being held back, now able to pursue the look-alike.

"Jackpot." You say, sporting a malevolent smile as you look at your doppelganger in the eyes.

The imposter, horrified, started getting up. "K-Kill her!" She yelled. "Everyone, kill her! Don't let her get close to me!" She said, descending the throne.

Following those words, the entire room mobilized. All there began to climb out of their seats and rush to you, with the guards there leading the way. All of the archons and Neuvillette besides the Tsaritsa, Nahida, and Venti were moving to kill you, with them beside Nahida escorting your look-alike who was leaving the room. The youngest archon, seemingly slipping off and going elsewhere.

Wasting no time, you run after the imposter, juking out arrows, evading melee stikes from various weapons, and having others take the fall for elemental attacks, all the while closing the distance.

You felt electricity charging up from behind you, sensing EI likely gonna try to decapitate you again. Ahead of you, Zhongli is rushing you, spear in hand, with various metals charging up the spear.

Rushing to Zhongli, you waited for Ei to be near you as Zhongli closed the distance too. Once both were near, you jumped out of the way, having their blades connect and shock both you and those nearby, slightly burning you but giving you a clear pathway to the imposter.

"Get back here you coward!" You yell, nearing her, only to see Mauvkia appear on your left, with her about to punch into your gut, no way to dodge it.

Seeing no other options, you use your left arm to take the impact of the punch, expecting it to be dislocated or broken, only for something to appear in a flash of light, taking the impact.

Being sent back, you then find something in your right hand as you're flying across the chamber before using it to halt launch by striking it into the ground.

Once you've come to a stop, you look at what's in your hands, only to be struck by an all too familiar feeling of recent nostalgia.

In your right hand resides a sword that seemed to glow of light, likely from Lothric Castle from one of the three kingdoms. In your left was a shield originating from Boletaria.

A smile appeared on your face, taking in your weapons, as something in the back of your mind told you these weren't your only ones.

Looking at your attackers, you didn't know if this was either the end or a new beginning to your hell, but this just got a lot more familiar. And you preferred your comfort zone, especially in times like this.

"Let's get a little crazy." You say, tightening your shield's strap, rushing into the oncoming of attackers, determined to carve your way through them to your look alike.

Rushing at the attackers, you roll under one, parrying a second into the third, and dodging several other attacks.

Feeling a sharp pain move across your right elbow, you see a bullet pass by you, coming from your elbow, looking back, you see the assailant being Navia, who shot at you again.

Dodging it, you then feel your shield changing, with you feeling a trigger going into your hands. Without a second thought, you pull it, hearing something fire at Navia, before seeing that she was hit in the right arm before being surrounded by several other foes.

Glimpsing at what you pulled, you realize that it's a blunderbuss, one that you used in Yharnim.

But it's only for a moment before you're under attack again with you swapping your blunderbuss back to your shield and having it block another strike. Looking back to where the imposter went, you begin running there, only to be unable to move, under attack on all sides.

Parrying Jean's thrust before blocking Diluc's heavy slash behind you, and then dodging out of the way of Candace impaling you, you twirled once, to block Jean's next attack, when she and those close to you suddenly got forced back by something.

Looking down, you noticed a projection of a dragon's tail on you, reminiscent of those used by the crucible knights that you fought in the lands between.

Looking up, you noticed more foes coming for your head on all sides. Twirling again, you see a greatly longer tail smashing into your more of your attackers, throwing them off of their feet.

Looking back to where your imposter ran off to, you ran over those you used to idolize while dodging the incoming projectiles from those still up and rushing you.

Nearing the doorway, something tells you of an incoming attack moving fast. Sensing it, you turn to it with your shield raised, only for a ray of continuous water to hit against your shield.

Looking above the shield, you see the aggressor being Neuvillette, blasting you with water before yelling "Now!", to someone if out your view.

Suddenly, an arrow of electro was shot into the water spout, with it moving up the spout as Neuvillette endured the electro energy affecting him.

In an attempt to lessen the damage, you drop your sword, but you would do something that you didn't know was possible, for you only saw it done by only a handful of foes.

Reaching out to the arrow before it hits your shield, you somehow manage to grab it, stunning Neuvillette and those that were nearby.

Looking back at Neuvillette, you squeeze the arrow, golden electricity now coursing through the arrow which now has taken the form of a lightning bolt 'Just like Radagon' You think, recalling the Second Elden Lord.

Twirling the arrow, you can't help but recall the first time you saw him use that. It was a shocker, seeing him be able to do that. Then again, you also did recall some other foes in the other worlds.

And suddenly, you find yourself as Radagon, and in-front of you stood a single tarnished. Their gender unidentifiable, and face masked.

You know not of whether this is a new reality made by the imposter, another power that is seemingly awakening, or if this is some mental illusion. In your right hand was the lightning bolt that he(or she? He was basically Marika) held. Aiming the lightning bolt at the Tarnished, you aim it at them, seemingly able to set the charge of the lightning bolt to incapacitate, and hurl it.

When it hit, the sound of a thousand screams hit, with the Tarnished collapsing, ending the vision. Looking around, all that were in the chamber had collapsed, with them all in various states of pain, but not dead.

Despite what they've done, you still feel remorse for them. For not only is the pain all to familiar to you, but some of them still are the characters that you adored back on Earth.

A sudden head ache emerges, and you grasp your head, unsure of where it came from as you try to bring it down, taking you down memory lane.

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The place could be best described as a void, with the only entrance in here sealed. You wore an armor set with a helmet that didn't have a face covering. In each hand resides a scimitar that you found during your travels.

Each scimitar had its own ash of war, special skills that could be applied to your weapons. Your right one caused blood loss after continuous hits as well as attack enemies in a short range of you while your left dealt frost damage.

You had gotten this modified set idea from a well known Tarnished who was basically nude, with him only having cloth covering his privates and a pot on his head for some reason. Despite this, he was a natural killer, slaughtering great foes and shard barrers with ease.

In front of you stood Radagon, the second Elden Lord. He had grayish cracked skin while still sporting healthy red hair, his chest bare besides the emblem of the Elden ring. All he wore were faded pants from what you saw. In his right hand, he held a golden hammer, the same one in which Queen Marika, or himself (You still questioned why she made a gendered clone of herself) used to shatter the Elden Ring untold time ago.

Running up to him, you waited for him to take the bait and as he swung his hammer down, you dodged out of the way, and began to stab into his side, trying to cut a way into his skin and freeze his blood, assuming there was any.

You managed to get a few hits in before being hit by Radagon, his hammer throwing you back a couple of feet. Wincing from the pain as you got up, you noticed how there seemed to be a hole in his skin connecting to something.

Forming a plan, you stored your left scimitar away and swapped it out for a staff. You sent 3 fireballs before rushing Lord Radagon, intending to use it as cover for you to rush up to him.

As the trio were launched, you ran to him, swapping your staff back for your scimitar.

As the fireballs neared the old Elden Lord, he did something you didn't know was possible. Using his hammer, he hit two of the fireballs back towards you before grabbing the third one and doing something to it.

Focusing on the incoming projectiles, you dodged out of the way of the first fireball before trying and failing to do what Radagon did to the second one with your scimitar, taking the heat to your face and gear, blocking your line of sight.

'Fucking Hell,' You thought, coughing through the smoke, waving your hand to clear it. 'Seems that one of the perks of being a god is that you get to do that sort of shit with your bare hands..'

Your thoughts ran cold as the smoke cleared. Radagon had seemed to convert the third fireball into a thunderbolt, which he now held in his bare hands and was aiming it at you.

As Radagon threw it at you, you dodged out of the way, only for the lightning bolt to explode upon nearing you where it exploded, electrocuting and burning your body, your nerves being fried and Arteries bursting, followed with your body hitting the cool, empty void.

As death's grasp covers you in its all too familiar embrace, memories of your life up to now hit you. From your earliest memories, to your awakening in Boletaria, to lighting the flame in the first kingdom, putting it out in the third, and then your duel with Gerhman to try and let him finally rest in the waking world, were some of the memories that filled your mind.

As you recalled the most recent battles with Radagon, you came to a conclusion upon recalling this duel.

'Attempt 89 failed. gonna need a new strategy... again'.

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

Removing your hand from your head, you take a moment of thought when recalling that memory. 'Damn, that seriously caught me off guard. Then again, I should've expected that since they were a...'

Your thoughts shift back to the crowd ahead of you. Most of those that are there are on the ground, incapacitated but alive, you're somehow able to tell.

Those that are getting up, mainly those who have lived the longest, seem to have been greatly shaken by something. Almost as if they had a glimpse with death.

Being snapped back from your thoughts, you run into the hallway that the imposter ran into, not giving mind to those that are ahead of you.

'She cannot get away!' You think, running into a hallway. You hear footsteps ahead of you, thoroughly far away.

Needing to close the distance, you check your pockets for something, uncaring if it worked or not, when you pulled out a gold, crescent shaped whistle. 'Jackpot!' You think, blowing into it.

Beneath you, a horse that you've traveled across both the lands between and the land of shadows emerged. Torrent.

A gift from the finger maiden Melina, he's proven to be of great use in both traveling the vast distances of the lands between and fighting foes of great renown.

Hitting the reins, torrent rushed forward, speeding down the hallway. You didn't know where this imposter was going, but you couldn't let her get away.

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Nearing them, bitter chilling winds nip at you and torrent before they begin to let up. However, there are several flights of stairs that seem to be turning right and down constantly.

At the bottom of the stairs was the imposter with Venti and the Tsaritsa accompanying her as they ran off the stairs and deeper into the last floor.

Having a bad experience with Torrent and deep falls, you decide to continue on foot, disembarking from Torrent and sending him back.

Jumping down from the top floor, you grabbed the ledge of one of the staircases, before releasing it to grab another. After repeating this process for a while, you managed to get onto the last floor.

In front of you was them, with the imposter smack down in the middle. A bit of a distance away, but still reachable. Taking a deep breath, you continued your pursuit, running after them.

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

Hearing your footsteps, the imposter looked back, her eyes widening as you drew near, running faster with you right behind.

No matter how far she ran, walls of Dendro kept appearing at every potential exit, all of them too thick that they wouldn't have it opened by the time you're upon them.

Every time the Tsaritsa unleased great glaciers at either the imposter or Venti used the winds the to make great barriers to block you using anemo, you would either melt the ice sent to you, or harness the winds to act in your favor. And that was before the elements betrayed them.

As you're nearing her, you're suddenly lifted into the air and pulled back. For a moment, you think that its Venti getting the wind to pull you out.

However, in the next moment your sword is changing into a familiar lance that belonged to the tail's owner, as well as their golden wings.

As if on instinct, you grab the blade with both hands, and launch yourself at the imposter.

Hearing great wings descend toward her, she takes another look, her eyes widening before grabbing Venti, having him take her place as your blade connected into the archon's skin.

As the blade connected, another vision occurred. This time, you were a crucible knight. In front, three separate warriors, tarnished, you presumed, with one of them impaled by your lance on the ground.

They each seemed to have varying reactions of horror, mainly the one who was Infront of the impaled tarnished.

Before you could register who else was there or what they could be wielding, you were sent back to the present, with Venti impaled, and your imposter look alike baring the same terrified look as the fearful tarnished in the vision.

Needing the blade, you raised it and kick Venti off. You then turn your attention to the other two, with the Tsaritsa being used as a human shield.

"Well don't just gawk there!" The imposter told the Tsaritsa, "Do something!" But when it looked like she was, voices began to invade her mind.

She grabbed her head and lowered it in pain. Her mind, assaulted by many voices. "Damn them all", "Repeat history", "Burn", "Heretic", few of the things she heard.

Visions begin to come and go like grains of sand in a dust storm. Images of Khaenri'ah being destroyed, before being replaced by Snezhnaya. The people being turned into great beasts, where death wasn't possible for their souls to rest.

Looking for ways to distract herself, she turned to the "creator", only to realize that she'd fallen silent, her face full of fear; and growing heat, both holy and unholy, familiar and not, was coming from you.

Turning her head to face you, she saw not a head, but a great void in the center of where your head resided. Surrounding this void was many smaller flames constantly rising from the void before vanishing.

"Give me the imposter," Your voice, supported by many, said. "And that fate, and many others like it, will cease." They said, before more images hit her, though noticeably lighter in effect than before.

Deciding to fold, she grabbed the imposter, and before the false creator could react, the Tsaritsa threw her to you, with you catching her by the neck.

"Good". They told her, before receding, with a wall that combined dendro, cryo, and geo rose, surrounding you two before eventually being fully covered. The imposter looked at her, face full of rage and fear, reaching out to her before she was no longer visible.

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Venti approached the Tsaritsa, having gotten up while holding where his wound was, which had stopped bleeding, but the aches still resided.

"Thank you, for doing what was needed." Venti said, as the other archons and Neuvillette arrived.

"It always feels like I have for us all." She says, looking at the arriving group

"While your forms and aftershocks could've been a bit more...adept, the path of justice is walked by those who dare." Neuvillette says, looking at the others.

"While true, this imposter shall know what their judgement is...and so shall we soon." Zhongli says in a somber mood, looking at the elemental wall.

A moment of silence befalls them before a muffled scream is heard from the wall, likely belong to the imposter.

"Seems that her judgement has begun." EI says. "It seems so." Nahida replies. "However, if Teyvat still exists as we know it, our fates may not be what we'll have to worry about the most." She says, all eyes now on her.

"How so?" Mavuika asks, crossing her arms.

"Earlier today, I was viewing the creator's memories by the Imursul. More specifically, what they went through before arriving in Teyvat." Nahida says, ignoring the other's gasps at her action.

"And what I saw..." She stops for a moment, recalling what you went through. "Would drive lesser beings insane."

"Explain." Ei says, glancing back to the dome, where the imposter that took your place was still screaming and begging for mercy, before looking back at Nahida.

"The memories that she had endured are all to vivid in detail. These go from her first descent into Teyvat, to today. However, the most common ones that she has most commonly gone through..." Nahida pauses for a moment, taking a deep breath before continuing. "Are that of her dying, over and over."

"What!!??" They yell, shock and worry evident in their voices. For if this true, how much has changed about the grace they knew from before. and what would she think about them?

"These deaths seem to be much like Teyvat's ending of a life, with her viewing the memories that she experienced over her lifetime as her consciousness leaves her body, signified by a the feeling of being cold."

"However," Nahida says, taking a deep breath before continuing, "Unlike our world where they'd ascend to Celestia, they awake at seemingly designated safe spots, with them awakening where their body ended up when they have yet to reach one of these areas."

The group listened on in silent horror as they process what they're hearing. The screams from before seem to have been reduced to barely audible wimpers, often being interupted by a banging from the other side.

"What's worse," Nahida continues, shocking the divinity there at how it could get worse. "Is that when it looks like her journey in a world is done, it starts all over again, with the mere weapons she held when she started, and needed to complete every single of what she calls endings, different fates for the world she finds herself in, before being allowed to travel into a different one."

The silence was deafening. How much had the primordial mother change due to this false judgement? And what would happen to them? Though they weren't worthy of mercy, they felt the need to help her heal. Even if it's the sake for those who're still in her light.

Hostile and malevolent energy, which could only be described as unholy, suddenly began to emit from the wall, the imposter's scream's greatly rising. "P-Please! I B-beg of y-you! Spa-Spare me, and I'll do wh-what ever you want! N-Not a S-Second t-thought.!" She yells, her voice rising in desperation. "J-J-Ju- Just please, don't do th-AAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!!!!!"

The imposter's screams crescendo as unholy energy surges through their veins. Great chains of lightning are shot throughout the dome. highlighting a brutal sight. Shock was visible on their faces, but not from what you were doing, but rather how.

You, once merciful and forgiving, was using a weapon, who's only purpose was to damn those who've committed the worst of sins. It was considered sacrilege in the old age to spread knowledge about this blade's existence.

To everyone there, both by the lightning and sensing, they saw many appendages of various types, hands, claws, tentacles, and many more indescribable, clawing at the imposter from some sort of abyssal like circle underneath them. While her body was being pulled back by the limbs, they felt that the blade was pulling something out from the body.

As the scene unfolds, the archons look at each other, worried about not only their fates, but those that dwell in Teyvat. "Are the people aware, of who the true creator is?" The Tsaritsa asks, looking at the divinity there. "They are." Mauvika answers, with the Ei and Zhongli confirming it. "The winds have told me that the people are aware, and are fervently praying for mercy while repenting. Though, some are still in denial about the truth." Venti says with a somber look.

Before they could continue, the imposter's pleas went silent, followed by a muffled thud that originated from the dome. Before anyone could react, the dome began to melt, with vines and roots retracting and the rocks collapsing.

"Then lets pray it's enough in the end, and the deniers don't damn us all." Neuvillette says, getting on his knees, followed by the archons doing the same.

When the dome receded, those there looked in fear at you and what held.

In your left hand, you held a shield of pure light Infront of you, with it radiating of holy energy. That alone would've signified your identity as someone holy. But what you held in your right signified you position.

You held a sword which is only known as "The One That Damns". Across the blade's steel resides the faces of those that had been damned as well. From the bottom to the but of the blade, the steel was replaced with an unknown metal. In the center resided three small humanoid skulls in which a horn was on the center of each of them.

Starting from the top section of the highest skull going down was two metalic horns. At the connection point of a regular blade and hilt was face a face infamous to all. That of the first sinner, who now bore the horns of betrayal now metallic, and a ring with arrows going in all lateral directions, signifying how their greed consumed the world many centuries ago.

Due to how volatile the blade's energies were and its ability to corrupt, only the true creator, you, could wield it without being either absorbed into it or lost in it's corrupting influence.

Your face bore that of cautioned aggression, similar to that of a cornered monster, ready to do anything to survive. Your head had about returned back to normal, but the Tsaritca noticed in your eyes was the same void of fire in your irises that consumed your head when you went into that dome with the imposter.

From their point of view, a black substance was oozing out of the imposter's mouth, connecting to the floor. The back of their skull was shattered, with bits of flesh and bones all across where the dome was, with the abyssal circle now gone.

Mortal blood oozed from various stab wounds and cuts all across her body, with some bones visible from their perspective. But at the center of her body was unholy energy and the smell of smoke emitting from it, likely the result of The One which damns.

Her lower body is faring around as well as the upper body is, with wounds and broken bones in her.

The silks and fabrics that made up her dress were torn in your relentless strikes, jewelry thrown all across where the dome once was. Some in pieces, others still whole.

Tension was high between you and them as you waited to see if they'd rise and attack while they hoped that you would lower your weapons, and hear them.

After a while, Neuvillette spoke, taking the initiative. "Your grace. On behalf of the people of Teyvat...we're sorry." He says after a moment of consideration.

You don't know what to say. This seems to good to be true. The person you'd trust the most is Patches whenever you look over an edge, mainly because you've gotten used to him always kicking you off of it just because he can.

He did seem to change his intentions by the time you went to fight Mohg as he claims, due to the dangers that resided within Volcano manor.

Yet, these were the people who's story you've come to know, with their behavior fueled by devotion to this, god. One that sought to impersonate you. Which implied a lot, if they were that desperate.

Half an hour would pass, with it feeling like eternity to them, before you came to a conclusion on their judgement and spoke again.

"In time uncountable for me, as a result of the imposter", you say, gesturing to the imposter's body. "I descended into a decayed kingdom known as Boletaria, which saw me cleanse the land of its demonic occupiers, with nothing but the weapons I found and wits."

Zhongli looks like he wants to say something, but doesn't under your wary glare as you take a deep breath.

"I would've hoped that this led to my salvation, but it seems that the heretic had other plans. For after I purged Boletaria of the damned and left it, I was sent back to the beginning of my journey, with every change I made having the same result besides one.

The group held their breath, feeling worry and concern grow on their backs.

You take a deep breath. This part wasn't something you were fond of, regardless of the world. But it was your only way out.

"The only way out of that world, was by giving into sin." You finish, looking your head down.

The archons and Neuvillette's faces widened in shock at your admission. What sin did you commit to escape, what degree of severity did it hold?

"This, was merely the beginning," you continue on, ignoring their silent reactions. "of what I would have to do. For Boletaria was the first of seven other worlds that I would inevitably be forced to decide the fate of, and being forced to see all of them in each world."

"But now that I am free of that fate, it is my time to heal both me," you say, pointing to yourself. "And you." You finish, pointing to them. "Before my departure into Boletaria, from what I've been made know of, you felt my presence via the traveler at first and then in you, yes?" You ask, with them nodding in confirmation.

"To varying degrees do I know about each of your situations and the history of this world. But one thing remains the same. Celestia has been negligent for too long. If they're unable to justify this properly...," You pause, taking a somber tone. "Their reign is over." You finish, looking at them.

The group starts to worry about the future. The Tsaritsa worries about what's to be released in the future. By both Celestia and you, with the memory of world burning still fresh in her mind, with the others in similar states of worry.

"You and the rest of Teyvat, however, will be spared from the ensuing war that would come should they fail to explain." You reassure them, breaking them out of their thoughts.

"From what I've seen through the winds of freedom," you, turning towards Venti, with the said archon looking up at you. "Celestia has held back valuable information relating to your world, going to brutal measures to ensure that this knowledge was hidden."

"Situations like this of varying degrees are occurring all across Teyvat, and they don't react even when nations collapse due to their failures!" You yell, startling the group.

You take a deep breath, regaining your cool. "As such, I have an offer for you and your nations, as a means of reconciliation. for you." You say.

They look surprised as expected. A chance to repent for their sins? This early? There had to be some trick.

"I ask for each of you to rise, and join me in healing this world." You say, gesturing for each of them to rise. "For too long have the people of Teyvat been neglected and abused, with you and it's people working to ensure your continued survival."

"The path of healing for us both will be beneficial and long, but I hope that in the end," you continue, with the archons and Neuvillette rising, standing up right, "that we will prosper to fix a broken dream."

As you walked out of the chapel, surrounded by the divine that walk the world and your mortal acolytes, you looked up to the rising clear night sky, a light smile appearing on your face.

For now, at least, the constant suffering that you've grown used to is over. Though the potential war with Celestia is of concern to you, you push it out of your mind for now.

For how long have they been fighting their struggles, for them to desperatly fight for a look a-like of you, that only made demand after demand, seeking to enrich herself?

So many questions, but you will find them. Though the path will be long, you will keep them safe in the end, no matter the cost.

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

Hey readers, sorry for not posting in a while. This idea was given to me by @ghrgrsfdesfrfg when they were looking for a separate SAGAU fic. I'm going to be releasing 2 new polls soon. The first being the poll from earlier with better descriptions of these stories, and the second being if I should write stories for the opposite gender if I specify the reader being male or female.

[gloomwitchwrites]

A Clone's Future

CT-7567 Captain Rex x Female Reader

Content & Trigger Warnings: fluff, physical hurt/comfort, light angst, happy ending, domestic elements, brief suggestive themes, kiss, Anakin & Fives make an appearance

Word Count: 4.1k

Rex is a soldier of the Republic. A clone. And it is not worth daydreaming about what it would be like to have a family. But he does just that, not knowing that there is someone out in the galaxy waiting for him.

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // fluffuary 2024 masterlist

“I saw you eyeing that woman at Seventy Nines.”

Rex glances up from his datapad and flushes, rubbing the back of his neck. Fives grins down at Rex, arms crossed over his chest, one hip slightly popped.

“It was nothing,” mutters Rex, stepping around Fives’ comment.

The corner of Fives’ mouth quirks as he tries to hide a knowing smile. “Nothing? You were practically drooling,” laughs Fives, gently tossing his helmet on the bunk next to Rex’s. “Why didn’t you approach her?”

Rex blinks, confused. “Why would I?”

Fives shakes his head. “She was staring at you too, Captain. We all saw it.”

Rex looks back at the datapad, wanting to be done with this conversation. “And if I talked to her, what then?”

Fives shrugs. “You talk to a beautiful woman. Flirt a bit.” Fives leans in and Rex glances up from the datapad. “Slip into a dark corner for some—”

“That’s enough, Fives,” interjects Rex, his stomach twisting with understanding.

Fives pats Rex’s shoulder and then plops down next to Rex in the bunk. “This war is going to end. What do you plan to do after its over?”

What is he going to do? Rex hasn’t even thought about it. Hasn’t given the idea any life. Rex is a soldier of the Republic. Duty comes first. It always does. Thinking about the future when that future is entirely uncertain will only create heartache in the end.

“Haven’t thought about it,” answers Rex truthfully. Maybe Fives will drop this, and Rex can return to reading the latest war reports.

“Why not?” asks Fives, clearly not interested in moving on.

Rex’s grip on the sides of the datapad tightens.

Why not? Because fantasizing about the future in any capacity leaves Rex vulnerable and open to the realities of his situation. His family are his fellow clones. They are his brothers. All the family he needs is right here. Why would he ever need to consider anything beyond what is already in front of him?

“I don’t see the point,” answers Rex. “We don’t know when this war will end.” He pauses. “And some days we aren’t sure if we’ll even see tomorrow.”

Fives snorts. “That’s the whole reason why you should.”

“Fives—”

“We’re alive, Rex. We are people and we feel. We may serve the Republic, but we deserve to dream like the citizens we protect.” Fives reaches for his helmet and holds it reverently in his lap, the front side facing him. “In peacetime, we deserve a bit of happiness.”

Rex is silent a moment before he speaks. “Are you not happy now, Fives?”

Fives glances up and grins. “I’m happy, Rex. But happiness during peacetime is…different. I want to know what that looks like for us. Dreaming about it isn’t wrong.”

Rex didn’t say that it was wrong, but he’s not going to point that out to Fives.

Fives taps the edge of the helmet against his knee, sighing as he stands. “I’ll leave you to your boring war reports, Rex.” At the door, Fives turns, and grins mischievously. “Next time, if she’s there, you’re talking to her.”

The door to the room whooshes open, and Fives disappears into the hall. When it shuts, Rex is left in the lingering silence, the only sound that of the air filtration system. It hums softly, a dull buzz in the background.

Whenever his mind drifts toward the future—which is almost never—Rex rarely allows himself to linger. Maybe it’s because of his position, and that there are thousands counting on him to lead them. So many of his brothers look to him for guidance, even ones from other sections of GAR. He and Cody are always discussing strategies and offering advice.

Rex tries to live in the moment, to focus on what matters right now. But what Fives said is sinking in, lurking at the back of his mind, and drawing his attention away from the datapad in his hands.

This room is a small barracks area, one for captains and other ranked members of the Clone Army can go to rest. No one else is in here. It’s just him. They’re stationed on Coruscant, waiting to depart for a months long campaign. Rex and the rest of the 501st have some time to relax before returning to the battlefield.

Yes, they did go to 79’s last night. Yes, Rex may have had one too many strong drinks. And yes, Rex couldn’t stop staring at the woman giving him flirtatious glances all night.

Rex might be a clone but he’s still a man.

Locking the datapad, Rex sighs heavily, placing it on the edge of the bed. Tiredness sits in his bones, and Rex gives in to the exhaustion, bringing his legs onto the bunk and laying on his back. He stares at the bunk above him, at the smooth, plain metal, and tries his best to forget everything.

Tries is the key word.

Rex does try, but he cannot stop thinking about Fives and what he said.

He slips unexpectedly, falling into that space, considering the future.

The woman Rex pictures in his mind is faceless. He does not consider her features, or what her hair might be like. He does not consider whether this fictional woman is human or Twi’lek or any other species. Instead, Rex contemplates what he needs in someone else. Would she be soft and kind, someone to smooth out his sharp edges, to help him forget the realities of war, and linger in a calmness that soothes his soul? Or is she sharp witted, adventurous, willing to explore the galaxy and isn’t afraid of danger?

Or is she something else entirely?

Rex floats in the possibilities, of what this woman might be like and what she’d mean to him. Would General Skywalker want to meet her? Would he approve? Is it even allowed to him after the war ends? Will the clones have the right to enjoy the things the citizens of the Republic do?

These questions form in his head quickly but evaporate just as fast. Rex imagines warm arms around him, of knowing that there is always someone waiting for him, to share in all his failures and successes. It is a wonderful sensation, a calming sense of peace that ushers into his head and curls itself around him to take hold.

The physical isn’t entirely important to Rex, but he considers it anyway. He conjures up multiple images, giving the faceless woman hair then lekku then hair again, even picturing the woman he couldn’t stop glancing at while at 79’s. These thoughts bring the woman in his head to life a bit more, as if he’s stoking a fire, protecting the flame from extinguishing.

With his eyes closed, Rex imagines soft hands holding his, moving to his wrists and arms to eventually cradle his cheek. Rex sighs audibly, pretending that there is someone next to him in this bed, curled up against his side with their head on his chest.

But when he reaches across his chest to seek this someone out, his fingers only find empty air.

Rex’s eyelids slowly open, and a heaviness fills his chest. This is why Rex does not entertain thoughts of the future. This is why he lives in the present moment and focuses on the immediate needs of his soldiers and the Republic.

It’s self-indulgent. Unnecessary. That is what Rex tells himself as he turns on his side and tries to find some sleepful peace in the dark.

These streets are a maze, and Rex is utterly lost.

His personal communicator is crushed, and there are slavers on his trail. General Skywalker has no idea that Rex is being pursued. He has no idea that Rex took a blaster shot to the leg or that he’s limping along as he attempts to hide from his assailants.

This is supposed to be an undercover job, a way to figure out where an entire village full of Twi’leks were taken to after disappearing. While General Skywalker pretends to be a slaver interested in buying, Rex’s job is to find another way into where the Twi’leks are being held.

The whole thing fell apart. Crashed. Burnt up like an asteroid entering the atmosphere.

Behind him, his pursuers shout, and people scream. They’re closer than before, and Rex needs to find shelter. He needs to throw them off and return to General Skywalker.

He slips in a puddle, nearly stumbling into a pile of trash.

“Kriffing hell,” mutters Rex, staggering, placing one hand against the side of a building to balance himself.

His chest heaves and his leg is screaming, needing to rest.

Their pounding footsteps grow closer, and Rex takes off, dragging his leg along as he turns the corner. It’s shadowy here, and the street is long and narrow. There is nothing for him to hide in or around. The street is lined with residential buildings. There are entry doors and a few windows on the bottom level, but that won’t give him protection.

Desperation sinks in. Rex tries a few of the nearby doors, receiving no response.

There is a shout from the direction of where Rex just came from. “This way!”

Rex growls with frustration. He turns away from the door of one house, only to freeze when he notices the young woman in an open doorway.

“In here. Quickly.”

Rex glances back once and considers the alternative.

Kriff it, he thinks, entering the dimly lit home, the door whooshing shut behind him. Rex’s leg almost gives out beneath him, a sharp pain shooting up his side. He grunts, starts to double over, and his potential savior comes to him, placing their hands upon him gently.

Realizing that there is another person, Rex glances up quickly, the instinct to survive flaring white and hot and bright.

He finds…you.

And it is not what he expects. Because—no. Rex smothers the thought immediately.

There is a shout right outside the door, and you place a firm hand on Rex’s chest, easing him down toward the floor while holding a single finger up for silence. Rex doesn’t say a word, his gaze flicking between you and the door, and back again.

The voices soften, and then Rex doesn’t hear them at all.

When you sigh with relief, Rex relaxes a bit, knowing that he’s been spared some extra time.

But you? You are a mystery to him. Friend? Or foe?

“You’re hurt.” It’s not a question and Rex immediately likes the sound of your voice. “Heard the shouts,” you continue. “Saw you limping.”

Rex swallows. “Why are you helping me?”

Your smile is soft with a hint of mischievousness. “Do you think I like living amongst slavers?”

Rex shrugs. “Wasn’t really on my mind,” he admits.

“That’s fair,” you laugh. “They rarely treat the people who live here much different from the people they sell. I don’t mind disrupting things for them when I can.”

Friend, then.

Rex can work with that.

You glance down at his leg and frown. Your hand hovers just above the spot where the blaster bolt struck his thigh. Rex grimaces as the pain flares anew, like it knows he’s finally safe and demands immediate treatment.

“Can you stand on it?” you ask gently, placing one hand on Rex’s shoulder. Your palm is warm and a flood of comfort bursts inside him like a dam breaking.

What is it about you that’s different? Why does his body respond to you like he’s safe when his brain can’t seem to make the same connection?

Rex knows but stifles the thought again.

“Was running on it,” jokes Rex, trying to make light of that fact that the pain is a throbbing thing that won’t cease.

The smile you give him is so tooth-rottenly sweet that Rex feels heat warming his cheeks.

“Humor. That’s good.” You lean in a bit and Rex is immediately flustered by your closeness. “Means you’ll live.”

You present your hands, palms upward. They look so soft, so inviting, and Rex accepts. You help him to a fully seated position before sliding an arm around his waist to assist him to his feet. Rex drapes an arm over the back of your shoulders as the two of you hobble along.

You lead Rex into a small bedroom. The bed itself is unmade; the sheets tossed around like you’ve slipped out just to come to his rescue. For some reason, Rex pictures this happening, and then quickly dismisses it.

Easing onto the bed is hell, and Rex winces as you help him to his back. Thankfully, Rex isn’t wearing his armor, which will make tending to the wound much easier.

“May I take a look?”

Rex nods and you seat yourself next to him on the edge of the bed. When your hands touch his thigh, a shiver runs through him like an electrical current. You hum softly as you lightly press around the spot of the burn. Rex tries to stay calm, but in this prone position, Rex is only focused on your face.

He learns the line and curves, all your small tells, and the subtle way you tilt your head as you observe him. On Kamino—on any Republic vessel really—most of the medical care is run by droids, Kaminoans, and clones. It is mainly automated. Impersonal.

This isn’t.

You’re so close and delicate, taking so much care with him that Rex is void of words, only wanting you to keep giving him this attention. That memory, the one where he imagined what he wants creeps up unexpectedly, choking him.

Is this the feeling that Fives talked about? Is this the pull, the tug of what it means to try and find happiness outside of just duty to the Republic? Or is Rex only indulging himself while in the hands of a stranger?

“I have some bacta spray and bandages. I’ll be back in a moment.” When you stand, a momentary wave of panic grips Rex out of nowhere, stunning him.

What the kriffing hell is going on with him?

You’re back within a minute, placing the small box next to you as you return to your previous spot on the bed. Rex is instantly calm, relaxing as you consider where you want to begin.

“Could—” you pause. “It would be easier if the pants weren’t in the way. I can cut them or—”

“It’s fine,” replies Rex. “I can…remove them.”

Your eyes widen. “No. I didn’t mean—”

“Oh—”

“But if you want—”

“It’s—”

“I can cut it.”

“Yes,” nods Rex, relieved. “Yes.” Rex could start a fire with how hot his cheeks are.

With delicate fingers, you slowly cut away a perfect rectangle in his pants where the blaster burn is. Placing the cutters aside, you remove the bacta spray from the box.

“It’ll be cold.”

“I know,” answers Rex quickly.

Your eyebrows rise toward your hairline. “Is it normal for you to be hit by blaster fire?”

Kriff me.

“It’s a hazard of the job,” says Rex slowly.

Your lips part like you’re about to say something and then think better of it. “I won’t ask.” Your smile speaks to quiet amusement, and it feels like this one look is only for him. That this is something the two of you are sharing. That no one else is allowed to see inside.

The hiss of the bottle fills the room, and Rex momentarily flinches as the bacta spray hits his burn. Once done, you withdraw a gauze pad. With the other hand, you gently reach for Rex, lifting his own hand.

“Hold this for me,” you murmur, and the sound of your voice is so soft that Rex cannot resist your command.

Rex does as you ask, keeping the gauze pad pressed to the covered blaster burn. You unspool some bandages, and then begin wrapping his leg. You do not go over the pants. Instead, you slide your hand into the opening you created, guiding the end of the bandages underneath to the other side of his thigh.

It all feels too intimate, and Rex can’t help but linger on how close your hand is to something else.

“You can move your hand now.”

“Right,” mutters Rex, blinking quickly, trying to stare at the ceiling but failing completely.

Your subdued giggle draws his attention back to your face. Tying off the bandages, Rex mourns the loss of your hands when you draw away.

“All done.” You grin, and Rex melts. “I’ll grab you water and something to eat. We can talk after. Figure out a plan.”

We, as if it’s completely natural for you to help him, a stranger.

You bring him water first, and then go back to the small cooking unit, digging around for a pan to cook with while also grabbing ingredients. You shouldn’t do this for him, and yet you are. Rex’s military training tells him to be on guard, to be weary of you even if you’re showing him kindness. But that doesn’t sit right with him. Questioning your motivations taste wrong on his tongue, like he’s the bad person in this situation.

Watching you there next to the cooking unit, tending to him, it draws forth those memories again. Everything about this is too…domestic. Him reclining in bed as someone takes care of him for once is such a foreign thing. Odd. Almost forbidden.

He drifts, allows his mind to daydream of what a life like this could be like. With him, at rest for once, and someone close to him, wanting to do things for him just because they desire to do so.

But Rex doesn’t just think of someone. He thinks of you, and he sinks further and further into the daydream until the Republic, the war, and everything else in his life is a distant point in the galaxy.

But Rex needs to find General Skywalker. And you are a distraction. Healing is important but contacting Skywalker is even more urgent.

The meal you bring him is hot and so kriffing fresh that Rex nearly moans with pleasure. He could get used to this.

“Is it too intrusive to ask why you were running?” you ask, clasped hands resting in your lap. You’re sitting in the same spot on the edge of the bed, not opting to grab a chair or to sit anywhere else.

“I was poking around where I shouldn’t. Got caught.” Rex takes another bite and it’s better than the last.

“Are you alone? Or is there someone I can try to contact for you?” You shrug. “Don’t think it’s a good idea to turn you loose in the streets.”

“No,” laughs Rex. “Bad idea.” Your slightly embarrassed smile pleases him. While Rex ponders that, he also realizes he doesn’t know your name. “Here I am eating your food and sleeping in your bed. And I didn’t ask you your name.”

You give it without question and ask him the same. Rex considers whether or not he should tell you his real name or the fake one General Skywalker gave him for the job.

“It’s Rex,” he finally answers.

“Rex,” you say, as if rolling it around on your tongue, considering it and him, almost testing it out. Rex likes the way you say it. There is a soft sigh in the way you breathe his name. “Rex.”

“Just Rex.”

“Okay, Just Rex.”

He nearly chokes with laugher on the next bite of food. Once he clears his throat, Rex decides to be as honest as he can. “I’m traveling with someone. I need to find them.”

“I’ll go,” you say. “You shouldn’t leave.” Even though you’re staring at him, you still reach out and place a hand on his knee. You don’t break eye contact, and the earnestness is startling.

Rex gives you General Skywalker’s fake name and where you might find him. “It might be dangerous,” he says, trying to iterate the severity of the situation.

You squeeze his knee with a smile and stand, going to the closet to dig around. When you turn around, you hold up a large blaster. “I can handle myself.”

Using the strap, you secure it over your chest, the blaster hanging to the side. “I’ll be back. Don’t open the door for anyone.” You give him a little salute and Rex watches you leave through the front door.

The healing agent in the bacta spray and the need for rest creeps up. When the food is gone, Rex places the bowl to the side, slipping back into the daydream.

“Sleeping, Rex?”

Rex nearly launches himself off the bed. “General Skywalker,” he breathes, relief flooding his chest.

In the small doorway, you stand quietly, hands clasped tightly in front of your chest. You found him and even brought Skywalker with you.

He stops next to the side of the bed. “Glad you’re okay.”

Rex shrugs. “You would have come for me eventually.”

General Skywalker grins and nods his head. “That I would, Rex. I don’t like leaving my men behind. Especially you.” He glances at you standing in the doorway, and then turns back to Rex, one eyebrow arching in question. Rex nods, acknowledging Skywalker’s silent ask.

He exhales and approaches you. “Thank you. For taking care of my friend.” General Skywalker’s inclines his head in your direction.

“Of course. It’s nothing. Really.”

Skywalker holds out his hand and Rex clasps it. He drags Rex up to a seated position. “How’s the leg?”

“It’ll heal,” answers Rex. It’s already feeling better with the bacta spray on it.

“Can you walk?”

Rex stands. Wobbles. Remains upright. “I can manage, General.”

Skywalker glances at Rex’s torn pants. “We need to fix that.” He starts to remove his outer cloak and Rex shakes his head. “Don’t question it, Rex.”

Rex reluctantly grabs the cloak from General Skywalker and wraps it around himself, hiding the blaster burn. You step out of the way of the door to allow them exit. Rex’s glances at you and your lips turn upward.

At the door, Rex pauses, wanting to stay just a few minutes longer. “Thank you,” he says softly.

“Just avoid blaster bolts. If you can. For me.”

The back of Rex’s neck heats up and he exits the small house with a nod of his head. When the door whooshes shut, General Skywalker’s muted grin turns devilish.

“What?” asks Rex, flustered.

“You like her,” says Skywalker.

“I—I don’t.” Rex straightens his shoulders. “Why do you think that?”

General Skywalker taps the side of his head with one finger. “Jedi.”

“Sir. That explains nothing.”

“The feeling is mutual, Rex,” calls Skywalker over his shoulder as he starts walking down the street.

Rex nearly trips. “What’s mutual?” he asks, already knowing what his general means but not wanting to admit it to himself. General Skywalker gestures in the direction of your home. “No,” blurts Rex. “That’s not true.”

General Skywalker’s knowing grin is enough to silence him.

“You’ll see her again, Rex. I have a good feeling about it.”

“You’re doing a good thing, Rex. Even if you can’t always see it.” Your fingers slide over his jaw to gently cup his cheek. Rex leans into the touch, sighing heavily. “Saving one is an accomplishment, and you have rescued so many.”

After the Republic fell, and Rex and Ahsoka parted ways, he came to find you, only to bring you along with him on his journey to save his brothers’. You’re not on the frontlines, standing by his side in Imperial complexes, executing daring rescues. Rex wouldn’t allow that of you even if you insisted. You’re good with a blaster but you’re no soldier and losing you might shatter him.

Instead, you stay on Coruscant, awaiting each of his returns, ready to take care of, and look after, any clones Rex brings back with him. You never complain. Never waiver. You are his rock, a home for him to find a bit of peace from the unending injustices of the galaxy.

With your hand upon his cheek, you lean into him, resting your forehead against the side of his temple. “You’re a good man, Rex. I know that you know that.”

Rex’s fingers intertwine with yours. Bringing your hand up to his face, he gently kisses every knuckle and each finger. Sighing, you press lightly on his cheek, guiding Rex’s face in your direction. There is no brief pause or wanton hesitation. Rex knows where he stands with you, and his lips meet with your own in perfect satisfaction.

The future he dreamed of is here, with you, while rescuing his brothers.

The Empire is vast. It is powerful. But he is not alone. And that, the shared experience of companionship, is a hope in the face of a looming darkness.

taglist:

@padawancat97 @foxxy-126 @glassgulls @km-ffluv @sweetbutpsychobutsweet @singleteapot @garfunklevibes2012 @tiredmetalenthusiast @childofyuggoth @coffeecaketornado @kayden666 @cherryofdeath @enfppixie @ninman82 @beebeechaos @no-oneelsebutnsu

[kaminocasey]

On My Radar

Summary: You and Tech stay up late working on the pod.

A/N: SEASON TWO SPOILER WARNING!! Heard "The Color Violet" by Tory Lanez and listened to it while writing 💗 I also really love Tech this season, he’s been keeping me inspired like the first time he did when I watched tbb for the first time! 💗

Pairing: Tech x Reader

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI; SMUT!! P in V unprotected (wrap it up pals), angst?, Established Relationship

WC: 2.1K

Gif credit: @starqueensthings

Tay-0 lost the race and now you and the batch are left picking up pieces of him. You look over and notice Millegi and his stupid goons are walking toward you guys, ready to take Cid and do Maker knows what with her. 

“I’m here to collect, Cid.” Millegi’s deep menacing voice rumbles in all of your chests. 

The man was taller than Wrecker and that in itself scares you a bit.

“You’ll get your credits. Just give me some time. I’m good for it.” Cid talks to him like he’s not six feet taller than her. 

“That’s not how this works.” Millegi looks at all of you and starts walking toward your group. “You are out of time.”

You step closer to Omega, pulling her behind you, and Tech steps closer to you. You don’t get to see Tech’s overprotective side often, since he knows you’re able to take care of yourself. But since Hunter and Echo aren’t here, it would make sense for him to feel like he has to fill in for both of them. 

“Wanna step in here? I didn’t bring you guys for the company.” Cid looks back at Tech and Wrecker.

Wrecker drops Tay-0, or what he found of him, and readies his hand on his blaster. Tech steps in front of you and does the same. Millegi’s men point their blasters at you and you glare at Cid. What did she get you into? Again…

Millegi starts to walk toward you and Omega steps in front of you, a little too bravely. 

“Wait. How much does she owe?” Omega sticks her hand up as if to stop the man that looks like he ate the bogeyman for breakfast.

“More than you got, kid.” Millegi stops and looks down at her. 

You ready your hand on your blaster, ready to take it out if he takes another step toward Omega. 

“Well, we’re not done yet.” Omega looks back at the pretty much destroyed pod.

Millegi steps back and chuckles. “Looks like you’re done to me.”

“One last race. If you win, we pay you double.” Omega holds up one finger.

You, Tech, and Wrecker all look at each other and then back at Omega. 

“If we win, we get Cid.” Omega tells Millegi, standing up straighter, not afraid of him.

Cid looks down at Omega with a new expression you’ve never seen before. Perhaps respect? Cid may not ever admit it, but she’s got a tiny soft spot for the kid.

“You don’t know what you’re getting into, kid.” Millegi himself even looks impressed.

“I’m inclined to agree with him, Omega.” Tech turns toward Omega and Wrecker steps closer to join the group huddle. 

“Yeah, I’m inclined too.” Wrecker nods. “We don’t know anything about racing.”

“They’re gonna hurt Cid if we do nothing.” Omega seems genuinely worried.

You, Tech, and Wrecker look at each other again and then back at Millegi. 

“Do we have a deal?” Omega puts on her stone face.

If Hunter and Echo were here… oh man. You’d be in deep shit. 

“We race tomorrow.” Millegi nods. “I keep Cid, the woman, and the kid as collateral.” 

“That is not going to happen.” Tech steps in front of you and Omega again and you can’t help but look at him with a certain arousal. 

You’ve never seen this side of him. Confident. Sure of himself. Protective. 

“Yeah, think again.” Wrecker joins him.

“I wasn’t asking.” Millegi stares at the goggled clone.

“Actually, the kid and I are mechanics.” You sort of lie. “They’re gonna need us.”

With a sigh, he stares at Cid. “Just Cid then.” 

His goons come over and start to lead Cid away. 

“For your sakes, you better be able to pay up.” Millegi warns you before walking away. 

You spend the rest of the day, and well into the night, fixing up the pod. Tay-0 ended up getting run over by another pod so Tech volunteered to race in his place, which you definitely didn’t approve of. 

Omega ends up falling asleep so Wrecker carries her back to the ship so she can get some rest before tomorrow. You and Tech continue to finish up the pod together, nearly done. 

You take your sweatshirt off, toss it onto the workbench, revealing your tank top, and when you turn around, you notice Tech’s eyes on you. When he sees you looking at him, the tension melts from his shoulders and you join him again. 

“You okay?” You ask, softly.

“I will be alright. Thank you.” He goes back to wiring whatever piece he’s working on.

“Can I tell you something?” You ask him.

He nods, putting down his tools and taking off his helmet to look at you. 

“I don’t appreciate how you just volunteered to race like that without talking to me about it.” You murmur. 

He gets up and walks over to the workbench by the wall so you follow him.

“I am doing what needs to be done. Tay-0 is in no condition to race again and we have to get Cid back.” He tells you, looking through the tools. 

You stop him. “Tech, we’re partners… we’re supposed to talk things over before we make big decisions. You didn’t stop to think about how it might make me feel and…” 

He sighs and then looks at you. “You are right. You’ve spoken about this to me before and I disregarded your feelings. I am sorry.”

You let out a breath and smile softly at your partner. “Thank you.”

He puts his goggles up on his head and pulls you to him, pushing you up against the workbench so that he can kiss you softly. You melt against him just as you always do. It wasn’t a secret that the two of you were together, but you don’t always show it in front of the others, preferring to keep it to yourselves in your room above Cid’s. 

Tech slides his hand up your chest, to your throat, moving up to cup your face so he can hold you there. You feel safe again for the first time all day. Right here against him, in his arms.

“Want you…” You whisper against his lips. “Need you…”

“I’ve got you, darling.” He promises, lifting you up so that you can sit on the workstation. 

You start to help him unclick his armor, dropping it to the floor around you, until he’s in just his pants and vest. You quickly undo his vest, sending it to the floor as well. He takes his long sleeve white shirt off until he’s just in his pants, looking down at you with a smirk.

“You’re so pretty.” You grin up at him.

He rolls his eyes, trying to hide his fluster. It’s just as endearing now as it was back when you first met him.

“I believe that you are the ‘pretty’ one in this relationship.” He murmurs as he slides his hands down to the edge of your pants, tugging them off of you and dropping them with his armor. 

It’s dark in this area of the garage, only being lit by the work light that’s shining on the pod, so if anyone were to walk by the open garage door, they wouldn’t see you about to be completely ruined by Tech.

“Seeing you so protective today, really turned me on.” You chuckle as he pulls your underwear down before undoing his belt expertly, with one hand, which just turns you on more. 

Anything this man does with his hands is enough to spur you on, no matter what.

“I know it did.” He releases his length from his pants and moves your bottom down, closer to him.

“You do?” You gasp as he trails his hand up toward your clit when you wrap your legs around him.

“Of course I do.” He pulls away from your neck to look over at you. “I may not be Hunter with the expert senses but I noticed your blown pupils and the way you leaned toward me. I know you.” 

He does know you. He knows you more than any other person has ever known you. Tech taps your lip for you to open your mouth and then slides his finger in, swiping it across your tongue. Instinctively, you close your lips around it and he smiles down at you, staring into your eyes. 

“Does that turn you on, darling? How well I know you?” He asks you, softly, his free hand trailing down to your thigh and squeezing roughly. “How I know exactly what you need?” 

He takes his wet fingers from your mouth and moves them down to your clit, starting to rub you gently, working you up slowly. All you can do is nod with a soft gasp.

“Did you forget how to use your words, cyar’ika?” He teases you.

With you only being able to manage a whimper, he chuckles and starts to line his hardened length up with you. All you can do is watch it slide in, gasping from the sweet pain of how large he is. 

“Kriff…” He groans, squeezing your thighs so that your legs have no choice but to stay spread for him. 

“Tech-” You whimper as he bottoms out.

It’s been a few days since the two of you have managed to get any sort of alone time together, so you know that both of you are pretty pent up. And with the threat of tomorrow… who knows if you’ll get any more time together. 

“So wet for me already.” He praises you. “All for me, hm?”

“Tech…” You groan, pushing up toward him so that you can kiss him again, which accidentally forces him even deeper into you, making you both gasp, breathlessly against each other. “Feels… so good.” 

“It does.” He agrees. “You always do.” 

Tech starts thrusting into you, still rubbing firm circles over your clit, forcing you to bury your face into his neck so that you can bury the sounds, biting ever so slightly, causing him to groan. You’ll never get tired of hearing how he comes undone just for you. 

“H-harder…” You beg. 

Tech begins slamming into you, keeping his speed consistent, and you know he can feel you clenching around him. He grips your thigh around his waist, holding it there so you don’t slide away on the workbench. You hold onto his shoulder with one hand and the shelf behind you with the other, trying to keep yourself firmly in place as he ruts into you.

He pulls his face away so he can practically swallow the sounds you're making, kissing you breathless.

“I need you to cum for me, darling… I need to feel it.” He whispers, his voice low and needy.

“My clit… more…” You gasp, barely able to get coherent words out.

Tech understands, though. Of course he does. He starts to rub a bit faster, applying more pressure, but pushes you back so that he can reach deeper inside of you with his cock. That’s exactly what does it. You feel the warm familiar fuzzy feeling pooling inside of you, threatening to send you flying over your edge.

“That’s it, love… I can feel you so close.” He smirks, slamming his cock in and out of you so perfectly, it echoes off the walls of the garage. 

You start to cum around Tech’s cock, thrown immediately over your edge for him. He loves watching you cum around him, loving the way your walls choke his cock. His hips stutter slightly as he’s thrown from his own edge, painting your walls with himself, filling you as full as he possibly can, leaving both of you gasping and panting.

“I really… am sorry.” He whispers, helping you sit up before pulling out of you.

You rest your forehead against his, nodding, cupping his cheek. “It’s okay. I’m sure everything will be alright. I trust you.”

You know that he knows that you’re thinking of last month when you tried to get that war chest for Cid, who’s just seemingly getting you into all sorts of shit lately, and how he broke his femur… 

“Thank you for trusting me.” He leans in and kisses you.

You both clean up in the fresher before finishing up the pod and going to get a few hours of sleep before you have to be up. You curl up next to each other in the bunk on Cid’s ship, holding each other as tight as you possibly can, since you don’t know what could happen with the race. As long as he comes back to you in one piece, you think everything will be alright.

TAGS: @twistedstitcher27 @rebel-finn @grievouus @madameminor @dumfanting @rain-on-kamino @corona-one @tecker @ladykatakuri @brynhildrmimi @the-sith-in-the-sky-with-diamond @zoeykallus @maulslittlemeowmeow @littlemousedroid @arctrooper69 @rexxdjarin @agenteliix @padawancat97 @hated-by-me @sleepingsun501 @crosshairmylove587 @idlenesses @redheadgirl @dnxgma @themcuwriter @ashotofspotchka @sunshinesdaydream @crosshairsimp73 @ariadnes-red-thread @rosmariner @heyitsaloy @starstofillmydream @high-ct5555 @echos-girlfriend @sleepywych @nekotaetae @justanothersadperson93 @brownstalebread @aconstructofamind @book-of-baba-fett @chopper-base @palliateclaws @501st-rexster @dead-poolz @nahoney22 @where-is-my-mind-tho @inparanormal @greaser-wolf @moonstrider9904

[missyourflight]

Twenty Questions for Fic Writers

ty @veryspecificfantasies and @love-leah for the tags 💕

1. How many works do you have on ao3? 40 counting a couple of anons

2. What's your total ao3 word count? 193,217

3. What fandoms do you write for? just f1 at the minute - i've signed up for yuletide this year (finally a chance to get unbanned lol) so it'll be nice to have a go at something else

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos? So let's say, I'll come another day (1d ziam time traveller's wife au), tomorrow on every shore (maxiel below deck sailing yacht au), Somewhere in the heart of Rome (maxiel roman holiday au), let's explore your talent (BTS femmeslash tentacles in space), all creatures wild and tame (maxiel 🦑). 2 tentacle fics in the top 5 is so funny lol... my brand

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not? yes i try to! at least for the first while after something's posted. i like the livejournal vibes of a comment thread

6. What is a fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? i'd call them bittersweet endings rather than angsty endings but each part and grassy bits in between and Somewhere in the heart of Rome both end with the couple parting after a brief time together but like, hopefully with the sense that they found something meaningful in each other. and roman holiday kind of gets a happy ending later. kind of

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? tomorrow on every shore is probably the most uncomplicatedly happy in that they basically sail off into the sunset together. i think a lot of my fics end with like, the sense of relief or reconciliation of finding each other again, uniting your fantasy kingdoms, escaping a clone dystopia etc

8. Do you get hate on fics? not anywhere i can see it at least!

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? i saw someone say that they think of themselves as writer of erotica rather than romance, and as far as that's a useful distinction re: fanfic i would definitely fall on the Romance side of it (i have read so many romance novels lol).

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written? not so much crossovers with like the two sets of characters together. i may have been known to write an AU or two in my time.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? not that i know of

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? yes!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? not published, but i had a wild time in like 2011 writing a deeply angsty and horny hal/hotspur boarding school au with a friend

14. What's your all-time favorite ship? maxiel to write, but you don't even want to see the number of pinboard bookmarks i have for merlin/arthur, ~gryles, arthur/eames, frank/gerard, stucky... it's just so many bookmarks. a ship in a smaller fandom that truly fucks me up is childermass/segundus from jonathan strange & mr norrell. bbc hot childermass you have So much to answer for

15. What's a wip you want to finish, but doubt you ever will? i don't have a lot of wips that i'm working on beyond like notes app until i start properly writing one up... i have like a maxiel omegaverse roleplay thing that i started that i don't think i can pull off the way i want to tragically

16. What are your writing strengths? hm humour? dialogue. concision. nicely turned sentences. longing and/or pining etc

17. What are your writing weaknesses? oh god. i write very slowly and all over the place and i can't sustain a plot or write anything very long. bad at sex scenes. pretty emotionally shallow. no original ideas only aus. thanks i hate it

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic? i mostly find it jarring and i don't really do it

19. First fandom you wrote for? merlin 🧙‍♂️ it was an empire records au, obviously

20. Favorite fic you've written? each part and grassy bits in between is the most like nakedly personal. i still enjoy tomorrow on every shore a lot when i reread it. i'm so tender about clone max. i really loved the process of writing magnets, the pull of the moon but now that it's out i feel less good about it lol. it's like embarrassing to say but honestly when you work on something for months and it gets less ~engagement than something very silly you spent a day on it feels, let's say, disheartening. and there are like any number of reasons why something ~hits and something else doesn't - i myself, a hypocrite, have so many open tabs rn of things i loved and still need to comment on - and it makes me feel really small and mean and churlish to tell myself writing is something fun that i do for myself because i enjoy it and then turn around like, i didn't get enough compliments on that one actually (i'm a leo if you didn't know). and i did get some truly lovely comments i will treasure and i did what i wanted to do with that story and i loved writing it and i do think it's a good story even! just like the gap between your hopes and reality sometimes is deeply mortifying. like it's embarrassing that i was excited about it. it feels weirdly exposing even though nobody is ever thinking about you as much as you're thinking about yourself lol

[cookinguptales]

wwdits tarot: the world

Finally, the last of the Major Arcana, XXI. The World. I will be doing one more post on the Minor Arcana tomorrow, and then posting it all to the tag for people to read at their leisure.

(And then we’ll have a tarot weekend on my blog to celebrate.)

I do think, overall, this project came out to about 15k-20k words of meta, so… I do appreciate the people who’ve stuck with me all this time, and the people who will be catching up now that I’m about done. I know that these weren’t as popular as my usual meta posts, but I had a lot of fun writing them!

Thanks for indulging me. 💜

So we’re finally at The World. I actually struggled more with this card than any other, mostly because I actually had a fairly strong idea of what I wanted as soon as I thought about it, but I kept wrestling with why I wanted it.

I think I get it now.

The World is a card about wholeness, totality, and the end. The Major Arcana is often read as a journey, and The World is where that journey ends. It may not be the end forever, but it is the culmination of a cycle that has finally finished. So the end of a chapter, perhaps, if not the whole book.

There’s a sense of fulfillment to this card, like whatever you set out to do, you’ve done it. There’s a finality to it, too, like you’re looking back on what you’ve accomplished with satisfaction.

It’s also a card about the literal world that we live in. There’s a sense of unity and interconnectedness to this card, like through it you can access a connection to all other things. It also tends to have implications of literal travel, like journeying all across the world.

The World is about wholeness and completion and feeling at one with all things. It’s about reaching out and touching the world around you.

And I haven’t chosen a character at all, but instead a thing that connects them. It is, in a sense, quite genuinely their world.

What I’ve chosen to symbolize The World is in fact ancestral soil. Grave dirt, if you will.

In a very literal sense, obviously, we’re talking about earth. But we’re also talking about both freedom and restraint. Ancestral soil is a physical limiter on them, but also the thing that gives them full access to their powers and the ability to move around — if they’re clever about it.

Moreover, it is a thing that they all share. All of our (traditional) vampires have their own ancestral soil, and Guillermo is the one who collected it. (Colin… is more complicated, and I’ll get into that soon.)

Soil is one of those things that just keeps coming up again and again and again and again in this series, whether it’s Guillermo burying them or Colin being buried. It’s Nandor carrying soil around in his Jansport but also all of them searching for assorted corpses in their front yard.

There’s a sense of soil as foundation that seems to resonate through this series, and it affects them all. And every time I see Guillermo dig a hole in their yard, I look at that pile of dirt and wonder if he’s gonna have to keep it in a bag one day.

The soil that they all live on has become his ancestral soil. And he has fertilized it well.

Colin Robinson, the only one of them who has no interest in ancestral soil, and the reason why they all lost their original bags, still seems to have an intrinsic connection with the land they live on. He’s buried in it, obviously, both his clones and his decaying body, which presumably is still somewhere either in the basement or the yard.

He has an odd physical attachment to the house they live in, too, as evidenced by his need to burrow into those walls even before he died.

They all have soil of a kind, and they all have territory. And I’m obsessed with the idea of them mixing their soil.

I’d say that soil seems to represent both an end and a beginning for them all. I mean, it’s graveyard dirt. Originally speaking, vampires’ soil was supposed to be taken from their graves. WWDITS is obviously a little more lenient, especially because many of their vampires were never buried, but there’s still a sense of that finality in the soil they do have. There’s still a sense that the soil they have to carry around is a symbol both of their death and their rebirth.

And then for Guillermo and Colin, again, we’ve got this idea that they live in those holes, they die in those holes, and they too have both experienced a kind of rebirth. Guillermo has been reborn as a slayer, and Colin has been quite literally reborn from his own hollow shell.

So it makes sense to me, I think, that soil in this deck would represent an end to all things, a grave, but also a beginning. There’s a sense that no grave remains entirely unstirred in this show, and what is usually a symbol of finality becomes a symbol of liberation and ascension. Soil restrains them but empowers them as well. It is what connects vampire and human and slayer.

We all have dust beneath our feet.

Now, onto the last card.

More than any other card, my The World will be a radical departure from its RSW counterpart. The RSW image is that of a dancing woman surrounded by an endless wreath. It is the beginning and end of all things, and the violet symbolizes success and the red ribbons eternity. There are four creatures in the corners, and they are the same ones found in The Wheel of Fortune. They symbolize the four elements that make up everything and are a symbol in this case for pure unity and harmony.

The only thing I’m keeping here, I think, is the sense of fours.

What I actually want for my The World is a scene from the house. Or rather its yard. I want a freshly dug grave, a mound of upturned dirt next to it. Three sacks of earth sit in front of it, heaped on top of one another. And next to them all, one lies empty, waiting to be filled.

In the background, foreboding and familiar both, is their home. It is where they all live and over the centuries it has become their World, all five of them.

And slowly, they are finding completion.

wwdits tarot masterpost

[redrobinhoods]

the fruit of war | chapter one

AO3 Link | 2,600 words | Prologue, Chapter 2

Story Summary: The Clone Wars have begun. Riyo Chuchi is less than a year into her role as Senator for Pantora when the Coruscant Guard arrives and the war upheaves everything she knew. In a changing galaxy, Riyo strives to find her place in a deteriorating Senate as the men of the Coruscant Guard try to fill a role they were not prepared to take up.

Fox stood alone as he took in the space before him. The room was filled with abandoned desks and tables that cluttered the space in a labyrinthine mass. On each wall there was a conference room on the far left, followed by an office space in the center, and a storage room on the right. He was told that it had formerly been used by senate lawyers prior to the construction of a separate building a few years prior. Three head lawyers, three conference rooms, three offices, and, now, three commanders.

He took in the plaques on the doors as he walked forward. Thorn was on the left, Stone on the right. When he reached the office in the middle he brought his hand up to run his fingers along the engraved title. His title. His office. His guard.

He entered the code he had been provided the day before and the door slid open, leaving in its wake a small cloud of dust.

Fox stepped into the room, taking a few moments to take in the space. The desk, the chair, the window stretching across the wall opposite, the holo-file cabinets, and the box overflowing with cables that had been left on the desk. He reached into the box underneath the cables to pull out a monitor to which some of the cables must have belonged.

“Need a hand?”

Fox turned around to see Stone standing in the office door. “Couldn’t sleep?”

“Not particularly.” Stone stepped into the room, taking the other end of the cable Fox held and unwinding it from the twisted mass the cables had begun while in the box. “The air is stale here. The men are restless.” He glanced up to catch the look on Fox’s face. “Thorn is asleep.”

“Good, he needs to heal. Our wounded men?”

“They’re also asleep. I walked the hallways for a while before I figured out where you went.”

Fox watched the monitor before him flicker to life as Stone plugged in the cable. He reached out a finger and watched as the swirls of blue sprung to life under his touch. There were already two messages; one entailing how the system should work, the other a message from the desk of the chancellor welcoming their presence on Coruscant. “We meet with him tomorrow.”

Stone walked around to stand beside Fox, taking a moment to skim the subject lines of the messages. “Yes. Later today, really.”

“I must confess, I’m nervous.”

“Oh I’m practically shitting my pants as we speak.”

Fox glanced over at Stone before breaking out into a howl of laughter. It was funny, the whole thing. It was funny that the Chancellor had picked them. He could’ve had Commander Cody, stern and gentle, Commander Ponds, levelheaded and focused, or even Wolffe, serious and loyal, but no. He had picked two middle class commanders and a self-destructive ARC trooper. Fox didn’t know what the Chancellor had seen in them.

Stone gave him a look of mirth as he extended his hand. “Come, we may not want it, but we need to sleep.”

-

Riyo Chuchi leaned against a pillar in the atrium as she watched the stream of men enter. Some walked in alone, some in pairs, others in large groups. All in the same white amor. A few stood out from the crowd, with colored markings— red, blue, green—down their arms, across their helmets, but they walked just like the rest. They didn’t need to be clones underneath for them to be indistinguishable from each other.

She didn’t know how to describe the feeling in her chest. There was now war in the galaxy. Nothing had changed for her nor Pantora, but there was something out there readying to rake its claws through them when the time came. She had cried the previous night, once she had returned to the safety of her apartment after the display of the white soldiers in the Senate. She didn’t know who or what she had mourned, curled up in the blanket on her couch, only that there was the urge to do so.

But there, in the atrium, was her first sign of the war.

Five men walking side by side.

She clutched her cup of caf to her chest as she took them in. Three yellow striped men walking side by side, one green-striped man and one blue-striped flanking them, each with crutches. The green-striped man had a surgical boot that he kept off the ground. The blue-striped man had both feet on the ground but leaned on the crutches as if he’d fall over without them there. The two yellow-striped men beside them appeared uninjured, but the one who walked in the very middle kept one arm over the left side of his stomach, covering some unseen wound that bothered him.

She had yet to see men with yellow stripes. So she let her gaze follow the group as they turned towards the turbolifts. She couldn’t see their eyes, but she could’ve sworn that one of the yellow-striped men met her gaze before the lift doors closed.

-

Thorn all but collapsed into the waiting desk chair with a groan. He hadn’t paused to take in the room before him, barely taking in the office space they had walked through. He set his helmet on the desk before him and leaned his head back, letting the morning sunlight stream down on him through the window.

“How are you feeling?” Stone asked, leaning against his door.

“I’ve decided that the next time I’m dying, I’m going to commit.”

Stone chuckled, stepping inside the office and letting the door close behind him. He perched on the edge of Thorn’s desk, taking him in. “We meet with Chancellor Palpatine in an hour, the three of us. Can I get you anything to help you get through the morning?”

Thorn closed his eyes. “Some bantha tranquilizer would be nice.”

“I’ll check the cupboards.”

Thorn cracked a smile.

He hadn’t known Stone on Kamino, not as he had known Fox and Wolffe. He had a few faint memories of watching two brothers with close shorn hair training together, but he’d never approached them, nor had they approached him. Their first conversation had been on the Venators from Geonosis to Coruscant. Thorn had grown accustomed to the other clones being wary of the ARCs, fearful of them or overly respectful. For that reason he was surprised when Stone, dressed in nothing but a towel around his waist, had plopped down on the bunk opposite his and asked if he wanted some painkillers he had stolen from the medics on Geonosis.

“After we get back from the meeting, there are a few matters to attend to. Assigning men to their duties and so forth. Fox thinks to split the corps into specialties under each of our roles: Senate security, planetary enforcement, and general duties. Do you have any men in mind that you want for your share?”

Thorn opened his eyes, staring at the ceiling for a few moments as he thought before he lifted his head to look to Stone. “I want Lieutenant Thire as my second in command. He’s not getting out into the field anytime soon with his injury. I want him here, where he can heal.”

“Thorn,” Stone frowned. “You do know there is a possibility that he’ll be unfit for duty.”

Thorn shrugged. “It’s the same odds I’m facing.”

Stone’s face didn’t flinch at the words as he pressed. “You don’t want a captain?”

“No, I want him.” Thorn settled down in his chair as his stomach muscles protested his upright posture. “What was his track on Kamino?”

Stone pulled out his datapad, searching for a few moments before responding. “Field medic.”

“Then he can move into emergency medic for the Senate if he wishes. Tell me that won’t be useful.”

Stone gave Thorn a sidelong look before putting the datapad away once more. “You really want him.”

“I do. We were side by side in the medical tent on Geonosis. We’re trauma bonded, Stone.”

Stone snorted as he rose from Thorn’s desk. “Give it some time and I’m sure we’ll all be trauma bonded.”

Thorn gave Stone a lazy salute. “I’m looking forward to it.”

-

“Thank you.” Thire murmured as Jek pushed a cup of hot caf into his hands.

“You look like you’re dying.” Rys commented, blowing dust off the monitor he had unboxed.

“No, no, this is more painful.” Thire groaned, bringing the caf to his mouth. It burned, but so did most of his body. He had collapsed into a chair the moment the commanders had stepped into their offices. Bravo had stood by his side for the first few minutes, before his batchmates had spotted him and wheeled him over to where they were helping to set up the new office space.

“What happened to you?” Jek asked, taking the empty box from the desktop so that Rys could set the monitor down.

“Lucrehulk core, shrapnel got me.” He gave them a thumbs up and a grimace. “First day out of the medbay.”

“Jek thought you were dead when you didn’t turn up for mess last night.” Rys adjusted the monitor’s position before reaching for the tangle of cords that would connect it to the terminal. “I told him that you were probably off eating some poor senator’s houseplant instead of the mess slop.”

“Was it that bad?”

Jek shrugged, reaching over to help Rys untangle the cords. “Better than we had on Kamino, actually.”

The two men nearly dropped the cords as a commander approached, quickly assuming a salute.

“Don’t do that.” Commander Stone said as he stopped beside them. “If you lot salute every time Fox, Thorn, or I take a step into this room, we’ll get nothing done.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Sorry, sir.”

Stone sighed and looked down to Thire. “Do you still have the energy to walk?”

Stone had been the one to help him out of the medbay alongside Bravo, who had his cast changed out that morning, taking them to the speeder where Fox and Thorn had waited.

Thire clutched the cup of caf in his hands, dreading what his answer would bring. “Not very far, Commander Stone.”

“And these two?” Stone gestured towards Jek and Rys. “You know them well?”

“My batchmates, sir. They can walk, but they’re much better at running their mouths.”

A grin slowly spread across Stone’s face. “Wonderful.” He turned towards the two standing men. “Wheel Lieutenant Thire into Commander Thorn’s office and bring him another monitor and terminal. Set both up. And keep Thorn entertained, he’s bringing the mood down.”

-

Fox shook his head, leaning against the door to his office as he watched Stone take charge of the men. Stone was made for this, rising to the occasion of the challenges presented to them. Where Thorn was impulsive, Stone was steady in his conduct. And Fox, he didn’t know what he was yet.

Stone caught his look and gave him a nod of acknowledgment before turning back to the desks before him, directing the placement of the monitors and terminals and their mass of cords. “If I see a single cord out of line, you’re all mopping the halls.”

“Commander Fox.”

Fox turned in surprise, unsure how Bravo could have snuck up on him with crutches. “Yes?”

“Can I talk to you, sir?”

Fox nodded, taking a step back into his office and gesturing for Bravo to follow, then to sit in the chair opposite Fox’s own.

When both were settled, Bravo spoke again. “Sir, there’s a rumor going around that you intend to start diving the corps among commanders this afternoon. Is that true?”

“Yes,” Fox answered honestly. “I intend to meet with Stone and Thorn after lunch to discuss the matter.”

Bravo nodded, taking in a deep breath before he spoke next. “Sir, if I am permitted to ask, may I be assigned to Commander Stone?”

“He’ll have you cleaning his office.” Fox joked, trying to calm Bravo’s nerves. “But, yes. I will ensure you are assigned to Stone.”

Bravo failed to hide the smile on his lips. “Thank you, Commander Fox.”

Fox nodded his acknowledgment as Bravo rose from the chair, pulling his crutches up under him.

“How’s your ankle?” Fox asked before he could move towards the door.

Bravo looked back over his shoulder at Fox. “It’s healing. Medics say that if I sleep with a bacta wrap, I can be walking on it at the start of next week.”

“Keep us updated.”

Once Bravo had left the office, Fox brought up his datapad with the information sheet on Chancellor Palpatine. He had read over it three times already, but still, there was an anxious feeling in his stomach concerning what might go wrong if they failed to impress him.

-

Riyo watched Padme as she spoke. She could hear the words the Senator said, but they flew into one ear and out the other one as her thoughts focused on that yellow-striped commander she had seen that morning.

Riyo didn’t know how it had happened, but Padme had been on Geonosis. She had been there when the clones had first been revealed in combat. Riyo wondered if she had seen their faces, could tell her what they looked like, if they truly were men underneath that white plastoid.

She snapped back to reality when Padme finished speaking, glancing over to the Chancellor. This wasn’t the place to let her thoughts wander. But if the Chancellor had noticed her distracted mind, he paid no heed.

“Very true, Senator Amidala. Alas, I have another meeting I must attend to.” He stood from his chair as the senators rose from the couches around it. “We will discuss this further.”

“Thank you, Chancellor.” Padme said, inclining her head towards the man as they turned towards the doorway.

But before the small group had approached, the door slid open to reveal three yellow-striped clones, escorted by the Red Guard.

“Ah, commanders.” The Chancellor moved from behind his chair to approach the three men. “Senators, meet the new commanders of the Coruscant Guard. You may remove your helmets.” He added to the clones.

Riyo couldn’t help the curiosity as the three commanders obliged. The man on the left was slightly taller than the other two, with close-cropped hair and deep bags under his eyes. When he gingerly moved to hold his helmet at his side, she knew that these were the same three men she had seen in the atrium. The one on the right was bald, with kind eyes and a healing cut on his lip. But the one in the middle was the one that drew her eye. His hair was slightly longer than the hair of the man on the left, and though there was no discoloration under his eyes, they were tired eyes. Old and weary, despite the rest of his features matching those of the man on the right.

The one in the middle inclined his head towards them. “Senators.” Their leader then.

“Commanders.” Padme greeted warmly, with a familiarity that drew all three men’s eyes to her.

“Senator Amidala.” The clone with the kind eyes said, a look of warmth on his face.

“Please, Commanders, take a seat.” The Chancellor gestured the men into the room.

As Riyo left, she turned to look behind her, catching one last glimpse of the three sets of yellow-striped armor before the doors closed between them.

Chapter Two

[forksdoom]

My livejournal.com page seems to be completely inactive, over time I realized that I don't need real company. They are the ones who try to convince me that loneliness is something negative and should be avoided because otherwise it could have serious consequences on my life and that kind of thing. “It's okay to be alone from time to time” Maybe you could emphasize a little more on “from time to time.”

I only have the company of my family, who do not have much communication with me, I do not express myself with negativity...I do not demand communication. It would be better if I didn't have it, because over the years, I realized that I have a great disappointment about humanity and a dislike for people, which is hard for some to read. Few individuals will be able to truly understand what I feel, seeing the garbage that humanity has become, sinking into cowardice and ignorance as the years go by. I interacted enough to know that people outside my family circle are trash, online and everywhere, it's an easy thing to process and it's good to realize...it seems kind of rude anyway when you say you feel a rejection of humanity .

What I feel does not mean that I hate everyone and want to destroy every living being around me, but that my rejection comes from a fear of social interaction and repudiation of forms of coexistence. You don't have to be smart enough to realize that humans are too ingenious to advance technologically, but unfortunately that is hindered by all the hatred and disgust that the world can give a person, in addition to destroying the nature of almost irreparable way. It is something that has been around for many years, but apparently they do not care much about undoing what would probably end our planet and every form of life that lives with us.

Third time is the charm, I want to think that I will reach my peak arxia, otherwise I will kill myself. I hate hot climates, I wish it rained all day. Don't think that sometimes I don't feel sad knowing that I will never be able to eat again and I will never be able to communicate with other human beings again. Hopefully I can get that tomorrow... ;;)

Some may know what I mean, I would prefer to clone myself. But sometimes I wonder how it would feel if I had the desire to have a normal life, or the classic thing that everyone does, study a career, get married and have children, a happy family or something like that. None of them may be possible. And perhaps my assumptions suggest that it cannot happen, even the simple fact of having a stable relationship with a person seems difficult to me.

[sluntch]

A simple entry for a simple man - Writing Challenge - Day 7

Not really much of an entry for today, tbh.

Yesterday, I wrote a movie review for the film Dungeons and Dragons: Honor Among Thieves over on my Letterboxd account and counted that as writing something for the day. Probably gonna keep that up in general. The writing might not always go on here specifically but as long as I'm writing something, per day, I'll keep the habit up. Dil also came over to watch Arcane and Jujutsu Kaisen and just hang out and I was having a very good time and the evening got away from me. Things happen.

The D&D movie was fine, by the way. Not hyper-impressive but not overall the worst thing in the world. I was excited to see so many practical effects in a world that is becoming so bloated with CG in everything all the time. And they were cool-as-hell practical effects too, especially the Aarakocra council member in the beginning and the Tabaxi mother and child in the fish scene. I was genuinely excited to see that stuff in a movie like this. Main issues with this one (and I suppose movies these days in general) was the dialogue. SO MUCH MCU/WHEDON dialogue in this one, folks. Just like all over the whole damn thing. It's really grating to me when it happens and I know it's SUCH a thing these days to just complain about it but it really does take me out of the moment entirely whenever it happens. Why does every scene have to be undercut by a joke these days? Why can't we just let a scene play out and have the emotional impact that it should? Or even just let jokes land naturally? One of the worst I've seen was a scene where the party was journeying into the Underdark to do something and they come across a small group of Intellect Devourers, small brain-like creatures that eat your mind. They are more prone to attack people when they can sense higher intelligence and the higher one's intelligence is, the more likely they are to attack. Predictably, the creatures walk right by the party without attacking. Funny joke. Naturally delivered punchline. Nothing else needed. And then Ed, Chris Pine's character, says, out loud, AFTER THE PUNCHLINE HAS BEEN EFFECTIVELY DELIVERED: "Just seems hurtful." Completely unnecessary. Innocuous? Sure. Should I be getting worked-up about it? No. But I'm gonna anyway because it's just so annoying and happens all the time forever now. Whatever. Not pissed, just really mad.

I'll end this one here for now. I'm gonna try to watch a new movie tomorrow. One of the things I've been trying to do recently is watch more NEW movies, not just my comfort ones that I've seen a million times. Don't really know what's on most of my lists but I'll see what it is and actually attempt to watch it for realsies. I always tell myself I'm going to watch something new and then I don't and everything I've been meaning to watch just wastes away on some list forever while I watch The Mummy or some shit for the 1000th time. Not that there's anything wrong with that, it's just that I want to see more new stuff, especially something that may have come out recently. Might just watch They Cloned Tyrone, which I've been meaning to get to since the day it released.

Or who knows. I may just watch Dune again.

58 days to go.

[zhonglis-wifey]

I just really need Dottore fluff with his clones that is not nsfw so can we get reader that has been with Dottore since his academia years and is just being loving towards his younger clone version while his clone is just shy about all the attention that he's getting?

AAAAH I’M OBSESSED WITH THIS!!!! this is the cutest idea ever ur so galaxy brained for this

favorite • il dottore x reader

Being with Dottore so long, you had the privilege of seeing him grow into the man he is now. Correction: men he is now. Since he was expelled from the Academia, you witnessed Dottore’s scientific endeavors into more uncharted topics. The one that fascinated you far more than the others had to be his penchant for cloning himself. You already loved the real Dottore, so having even more of them was great!

All of them were instructed by the real Dottore to love and care for you just as he did. This instruction, however explicit it may be, was unnecessary, though; These clones were made to perfectly replicate him and every iteration of him loved you without having to be told to do so. Of course, since they represented different stages of Dottore’s adult life, they expressed that love in various ways.

Your heart sank when Dottore told you he had to go to Sumeru for the Fatui. These kinds of things happened with other Harbingers all the time, but since Dottore was so vital to the Tsaritsa’s homeland operations of creating delusions, you didn’t expect him to have to leave you for an extended period of time.

“I’m never going to finish this report with you here like this…” Dottore muttered, more to himself than you.

The two of you were in his laboratory in Zapolyarny Palace, with you sitting on his lap, chest against his, while he tried to focus on his job. Honestly, you never cared about his work as a Harbinger, especially not when it was about to take him away from you. You just wanted to be close to him before he was gone.

“I just wanna be together before you have to go tomorrow,” you whined. If you had been facing him, you would’ve seen a faint smile on Dottore’s face at your loving words.

He began to trace invisible circles on your waist with his unoccupied hand, soothing your sadness at his imminent departure. “The clones will be here, you know,” he suggested.

“But they’re not you,” you countered, disappointed in the idea of having to use the clones as a replacement. “I want you, Zandik.”

You felt the vibrations of a low chuckle move through his chest. “You say that now, but I think you’ll change your mind tomorrow.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you pondered aloud, never quite understanding what Dottore was talking about.

“You’ll see,” he smirked. You could tell he was amused with his own thoughts, as he often was. You just hoped that whatever he had planned wasn’t going to hurt anyone.

The next day, Dottore had left for Sumeru. You’d never let him (or anyone) know, but you cried as soon as you were alone. How were you supposed to fare without your Zandik? It wasn’t fair. Silently, you cursed the Tsaritsa for sending him away.

In his absence, you found your way back to the lab in Zapolyarny Palace, hoping to at least feel at home in a familiar environment that you often shared with Dottore. None of the Fatui stopped you, a non-member with little to no scientific knowledge, from entering by yourself; They knew that Dottore had given you full clearance and if they caused you any trouble, they’d be on the receiving end of one of his less than ethical experiments. Most of the time you pitied Dottore’s poor reputation but it seemed to serve you well here.

You didn’t have the chance to admire the space that Dottore called his own upon entering. Instead, you were met with the figure of someone all too familiar. It was Dottore — it looked like him, but young, like when you met in the Academia. Your mind raced through a thousand memories of the young Zandik you fell in love with all those years ago, long before the gears of time and corruption of man ripped up his kind heart. He was just as cute as you remembered; Appearing no older than his late teens to early twenties, his soft face was framed in wavy blue-green hair and his red eyes still sparkled with hope and aspiration.

So that’s what he meant when he said you’d change your mind about the clones.

“Ah, my apologies!” the clone exclaimed, flustered by your unannounced entrance. “Lord Harbinger didn’t tell me that you would be coming here today.”

You shrugged, smiling sincerely at this clone’s attitude. It was different than the Dottore you knew now and much more similar to the one you met years before. “No need to apologize, it’s my fault for coming over without telling anyone. I take it you’re a new clone?”

He nodded wordlessly, obviously intimidated by you. Oh, you were going to have so much fun with him.

-

A month had passed without the real Dottore returning from Sumeru. Everyday you grew more and more lonely, eventually tempting you to command invite the young clone to live with you until his creator returned. The poor thing was so nervous about it, saying that “Lord Harbinger wouldn’t want him to take his place with you.” You reminded the clone that Dottore created him to act as a replacement in his stead, giving him no choice but to come home with you.

Having the clone around made you feel years younger, as he was a constant reminder of your shared youth with Dottore. It was like you got to relive all those fun little things that you just couldn’t do anymore. In the Academia, you loved to tease Dottore about his very obvious crush on you. He would always get so flustered and try to quickly exit the conversation, usually saying he had class as an excuse. The clone was the same; Every time you wanted to do something as simple as hold his hand, he would get so anxious. (You wondered how Dottore was able to make an artificial person blush. Was there blood in him?)

Your overwhelming affection for the clone spiraled out of control, with him now leaning against the headboard of the bed you shared with his creator, shivering with adrenaline as you straddled his thighs and and he pressed countless kisses to his face and neck. He was whimpering at your touch, very clearly flustered, but you had no intentions of stopping anytime soon. You couldn’t help yourself!

But, you could also tell he was a bit uncomfortable, maybe not in a fun, cute way. You’d never want to hurt the clone, even if he wasn’t a real person. He still had feelings and you respected that.

“You’re uncomfortable,” you noted reluctantly as you backed off a bit. “I can leave you alone if you want.”

His cheeks flushed (again, how was that possible?) and he gazed up at your through long eyelashes. “I’m not uncomfortable! Please don’t go,” he begged, sparkly red eyes beginning to tear up. “I’m just not meant for this.”

“What do you mean?” you asked. Like his creator, you didn’t know what the clone was talking about.

“I don’t think Lord Harbinger created me for this purpose. I wasn’t made to fulfill your romantic needs,” he explained, unable to meet your eyes.

You never intended to feel so strongly for one of Dottore’s clones, but something about his youthful reminiscence and shy sincerity tugged at your heartstrings. You petted just head gently, lightly scratching that specific spot that the real Dottore always asked you to. The clone practically melted into you. He was just like the real Dottore.

“But you were,” you reassured him. You pulled the clone into your warm, comforting arms as you recounted various stories about your time in the Academia with the creator he was modeled after. It made the clone feel a little better, like he was supposed to be here.

That was until the real Dottore burst through the bedroom door, interrupting the sweet moment you shared with his clone. The clone scrambled off of the bed and away from you in hopes of appeasing the Harbinger, but he paid him no mind. You, too, arose from the bed to greet your lover with a kiss, leaving the clone all by himself.

“I missed you,” Dottore whispered almost inaudibly, like he was unable to let himself experience his love for you as wholly as he would like to.

You shrugged. “I’d say the same thing, but…”

You went back to the clone and wrapped your arms around his waist with no warning. He awkwardly stared at his creator, as if to say, ‘I’m sorry, they started it.’

“This clone is so cute!” you beamed. You swore you felt the clone let out a tiny sigh of relief.

Dottore stared at the two of you, surprised that you had taken such a liking to the clone. He created him with the intention of you loving him, sure, but you seemed downright in love with it. Dottore wasn’t worried, though. The love you had for the clone stemmed from your even stronger love for him, he knew that.

“Perhaps he can always be around when I’m not,” Dottore suggested, a teasing lilt in his tone. He shifted his gaze to the clone and addressed him, “Would you like that?”

The clone nodded, still not quite used to feeling your hands on him.

The real Dottore, Zandik, laughed at the clone’s behavior. It really did remind him of his old self. “Well, I guess it’ll have to be the three of us together until then.”

[animeomegas]

I read the Naruto Omega request with the alpha commenting about how their kid is just like their Omega (and I loved it so much) but what if the kid is just like their Alpha parent? Like the Alpha hit copy/paste of their kid and it's obvious to everyone, especially their Omega parent.

(Hehe, the reverse, interesting! I got a bit carried away in some places, but this was really fun to write! Enjoy~)

Naruto - Naruto knows his pup looks a lot like his alpha, but they're also like him!! He can see it just fine! You see the way they don't like reading kanji? He didn't like reading kanji when he was their age! You see the way they scratch their head sometimes? He does that too! As far as he's concerned there is lots of him in his child and he doesn't know why no one else seems to see it. He will definitely dress them in the worst orange clothes and style their hair like his to try and get everyone else to notice the similarities.

"No, Kakashi sensei, you don't get it! I had to walk past Ichiraku's the other day and my pup started to cry because we were in too much of a rush to go in. They have great taste, just like me, believe it!"

Sasuke - Sasuke didn't think he was the sort to care that much, but he's honestly a little shocked. Uchiha genes are crazy strong, and he's surprised that his alpha's genes are apparently stronger. He also gets kinda embarrassed because he spent his whole pregnancy telling you that the pup was probably going to look a lot like him and he was very obviously wrong about that. But in the end, he honestly kind of likes it. He doesn't have the best self-esteem and he definitely holds a somewhat subconscious belief that the Uchiha bloodline is cursed, so he finds it relaxing for his pup to look so much like his alpha. It makes him feel like they have a chance at a good life, something he didn't even realise he was worried about beforehand. He prefers his pup to look as much like his alpha as possible.

"Huh," said Naruto, giving Sasuke's pup a glance. "If you were an alpha, I'd say your mate cheated on you, but I guess the pup came out of you, so I suppose you're all good."

"Tch, idiot," Sasuke scoffed, gently brushing his child's hair (his alpha's hair that he loved so much) from her eyes. "Don't be so crude."

Shino - He doesn't really notice, not at first, too enamoured by the fact that his pup is beautiful and amazing and someone him and his mate created together. But after a few comments from others, he starts to realise how little of him seemed to be part of that creation, and he gets a bit melancholic about it. Don't get him wrong, he thinks his alpha has amazing genetics and he loves them both but... he's been excluded from a lot in his life and the fact that he appears to have been excluded from this as well. It hurts. Thankfully, as soon as the pup is old enough to start dressing in the Aburame clan clothes, everyone immediately starts calling them a mini-Shino, telling him how much like their father they are etc. He always puffs up in pride and it doesn’t take long for his friends to notice and they make sure to say that as much as possible to him. I imagine his alpha also picks up on it and goes out of their way to point out the similarities.

"I had to pull him away from exploring in the woods today," you inform Shino, having just walked in from a walk with your pup to allow Shino some peace to clean the kitchen. "He didn't like being told he wasn't old enough yet. Much like someone else I used to know~"

"Is that so?" Shino felt like his heart might burst from happiness that his child loved looking for bugs in the woods as much as he did. "I'll have to take him there tomorrow. Why? Because I want him to be happy."

Shikamaru - If his child doesn't learn to appreciate the beauty of a nap soon, Shikamaru may just have to disown him. He's joking, of course, but he's another one who firmly believed in the dominant genes in his clan, so he is shocked to find that there is now a tiny clone of his alpha running around their house. His pup and his mate gang up on him all the time… poor long suffering Shikamaru. Apart from missing valuable napping/cloud gazing time, Shikamaru doesn't care that much, although he finds it distantly amusing that the future clan head looks nothing like a Nara. Maybe they’ll gain more of his traits as they get older, maybe they won’t, they’re his precious little pup either way.

“If I promise to give you some chocolate later, will you come and take a nap with daddy?”

“No, no, no! Don’t want to! Want to play!”

Shikamaru just let out a long-suffering sigh and resigned himself to being awake for the whole day. Troublesome.

Neji – Neji is so fucking over the moon, he can’t even put it into words. The second he sees his child’s eyes for the first time, Neji starts to cry. They have your eyes. In other words, they have no chance of developing the Byakugan and therefore no need to be given the caged bird seal. The weight that lifts off his shoulders is massive. He has no room in his emotions for any sadness that his pup doesn’t look like him, because he knows how unbelievably lucky he got with this.

You sat by Neji’s bedside, pup cradled in their arms, as you waited for him to come to after the c-section surgery.

When Neji’s eyes finally fluttered open, he immediately focused on the bundle in your arms.

“It’s a little girl,” you answered, understanding his silent question. “Either a beta or an omega.”

Neji didn’t speak, simply holding out his arms to take his daughter from his mate. But just as they transferred him his pup, they whispered something in his ear.

“She has my eyes.”

An unremarkable statement to most, but Neji startled and checked immediately. You were right. She had your eyes.

Exhausted, Neji burst into tears, leaning on his alpha for support and mentally thanking every power that may be for this miracle.

Iruka – Iruka doesn’t have any strong feelings either way. He just wanted someone to love and nurture, what they look like doesn’t mean anything to him. In fact, he’s pretty happy that his pup and his alpha are so similar because it makes him feel like he knows how to parent successfully. He knows his alpha better than anyone after all, so a pup who has the same personality and motivations should be easier for him to parent. He acknowledges every comment about how much his pup looks like you with a laugh. It’s true and it is a little amusing how similar the two of you are. (Also, does Iruka take all your baby photos and then stage matching ones with your pup because he thinks it’s cute how similar you are? Absolutely.)

“Here, if you eat all your vegetables, you can have some of this afterwards,” Iruka promised to his pup, brandishing a plate of both his mate’s and his pup’s favourite food. Without even a moment of consideration, his pup started to eat his vegetables.

Iruka smiled to himself. Works every time. (On both the most important people in his life.)

Itachi – Much like Neji, he’s very relieved that his child is unlikely to be able to unlock the Sharigan. The sharigan has brought Itachi very little good and so much suffering, so knowing his child can avoid that makes him extremely happy. Not to mention, the elders pretty much discard his pup as unimportant immediately, just how Itachi likes it, and while they do start harassing him about having more children, he would much rather that they were bothering him than his baby. He doesn’t let himself be disappointed that his child doesn’t look much like him. He has a healthy and happy pup that he loves with all his heart, and who is free from the perpetual harassment from the Uchiha elders. That’s the best situation he could have asked for.

“They don’t look like an Uchiha,” a blunt twelve-year-old Sasuke said, tilting his head at the bundle in his brother’s arms like he’d never seen a baby before.

Itachi didn’t take any offence and laughed softly, still very weak from the birth.

“Well, technically they are only half-Uchiha,” Itachi answered, absently stroking his pup’s head. “And I think they’re perfect.”

[waitimcomingtoo]

OOOOOO, I really like your writing and u asked for prompts. So, maybe u could do a really shy!reader or mute!reader with peter? I think that be cute! Or you can do it with tom since u said once that you like writing for tom more :)

secret language

Pairing: Peter Parker x Mute!Reader

Synopsis: a study in the silence that comes when two people understand each other

Masterlist

You sat alone at on a bench on your first day of kindergarten, feeling intimidated by the noise and spectacle of it all. You hugged your backpack to your chest, wishing the day could go faster so you could fo home.

Then he came up to you.

“Hi. I’m Peter.” A curly haired boy pulled the seat out next to you and sat down. You waved at Peter and put your backpack on the table, deciding to give him a chance.

“Do you have a name?” Peter asked, and you nodded your head. You took his hand and laid his palm flat, carefully writing your name with your finger.

“Wait, do it again.” Peter requested, watching your every move intently. You wrote your name again on his palm and he titled his head, staring at his hand like the word would be written there.

“Y/n?” He looked up at you once he figured it out. “Am I saying it right?”

You nodded happily and pointed to yourself before giving him a thumbs up. Peter smiled proudly and looked at his hand again.

“Do you not talk?” He wondered, making you shake your head no.

“That’s okay.” Peter shrugged. “Sometimes I don’t like to talk either.”

Peter began to swing his legs, looking around the classroom in awe before his eyes fell on Aunt May, who was talking to the teacher.

“Is your mommy still here?” He turned to you to ask. You nodded and pointed to your mom, who was laughing with one of the single dads.

“She’s pretty. Her shoes are so tall!” Peter exclaimed as he pointed at her high heels. You laughed silently, smiling to show that you agreed. Peter smiled back at you, several teeth in the front row missing. His smile faded suddenly as he looked down at his lap.

“My parents just died.” He confessed to you. “Uncle Ben said they’re in heaven. I tried to look for Heaven on the map on the subway, but I couldn’t find it. Do you know where it is?”

You shook your head and Peter sighed.

“Me either.” He said, pouring a little as he slumped in his seat. You sat in silence for a moment until you heard a little noise from Peter.

“I miss my mommy.” He said quietly, his voice sounding weak.

Your eyes filled with sympathy for Peter as you stuck your bottom lip out. Peter watched you curiously as you reached out your hand, taking his little one in your own and squeezing it three times. Peter gasped a little, looking up at you with wide eyes as you gave him a gentle smile. It reminded him of what his mother used to do when he was scared, three squeezes to say three words.

I. Love. You.

Aunt May didn’t know about their little ritual, so when Peter squeezed her hand three times as they lowered his mom into the ground, she didn’t squeeze back. It made Peter wonder if anyone would tell him they loved him in the secret language ever again. But here you were, squeezing his hand to let him know it was okay.

“Thank you.” He smiled, his eyes no longer glassy. “I love you too.”

You smiled at him and he noticed that were missing teeth too. Peter pointed to your mouth and laughed before pointing to his own. You both doubled over on the bench (I was over on the bench) in a fit of laughter, as if you had reached the very apex of comedy with missing teeth and gaps in your smiles.

You and Peter spent the day together, communicating though words written on his palm or on a piece of paper. He found it very easy to understand you, even when you didn’t speak. He liked your quiet company far better than the loud children in the class, knocking over blocks and crying over toys. You were different, and Peter liked different.

At the end of the day, Peter saw his family and grabbed your hand, running towards them with you in tow.

“Aunt May! Uncle Ben! I made a friend. She’s a mule.” Peter proudly presented you to his aunt and uncle. You smiled politely at them as they shared a confused look.

“What sweetie?” Aunt May asked as she crouched down a little. In the mean time, your mother had spotted you holding hands with Peter and made her way over.

“Mute. Y/n is a selective mute.” Your mother explained as she came up behind you. “Hi, I’m her mother.”

“Like on a remote!” Peter cheered as the adults shook hands. “Can she come over?”

“Is that alright with her mommy?” Uncle Ben looked at your mother for permission.

“Sure.” Your mother complied. “If you give her a piece of paper, she can write some words down. I’ll give you my number just in case.”

“She doesn’t need paper.” Peter shook his head. “We can already talk, look.”

Peter held you your enjoined hands and squeezed yours three times. You squeezed back, making him grin.

“See? She said she loves me.” He exclaimed, letting your hands drop back to your sides.

“That’s so cute. I was so worried about her making friends. She stopped speaking after her father passed.” Your mother quietly explained to May and Ben.

“I’m sorry to hear that. Peters parents just passed as well.” May said sympathetically while Ben watched the two of you. A complicit smile sat on his lips as he saw his nephew genuinely smile for the first time since his parents died.

“My condolences.” Your mother touched May’s arm kindly.

“Thank you.” May put her hand over your mother’s. “It’s been really difficult for him. It’s been so long since he-“

She was cut off by Peter laughing loudly at something you didn’t say, but conveyed. Tears brimmed in her eyes as you wrote something on Peter’s palm, something that made him light up like the forth of July.

“Since he’s been happy.” She finished.

“Lucky they found each other, huh?” Your mother smiled fondly as she watched you and Peter play, earning a nod from May.

And lucky you were.

Over the next few years, you and Peter developed a secret language entirely comprised of soft touches, expressive looks and squeezes. It was a dialect that only existed between the two of you, and that was how you liked it.

“Welcome, students, to your first day of high school. My name is Mrs. Ingrid, I’ll be your english teacher this year. I’d like us to go around the room and say your name and what you did this summer.”

You looked at Peter with panicked eyes as tired groans echoed around the classroom. It was your very first period of your very first day and you were already freaking out. Peter gave you a gentle smile as he reached across his desk and took your hand, giving it three solid squeezes.

“It’s okay.” He assured you. “I got you.”

“Mr. Parker.” Mrs. Ingrid said suddenly. “Since you’re talking, would you like to go first?”

“O-Okay.” Peter stuttered as he stood up from his desk. “My name is Peter Parker. This summer I watched all the Star Wars movies in a row without breaking to sleep.”

“Thank you for sharing.” She nodded curtly and turned to you, as you were seated next to Peter. “Ms. L/n, you can go next.”

“This is-“ Peter began.

“I believe she can speak for herself.” Mrs. Ingrid snapped, narrowing her eyes at Peter. You looked at Peter with eyes full of guilt as you unintentionally made him get off on the wrong foot with the teacher. You expected Peter to be scared, but his face showed that he was perfectly calm.

“Actually she can’t, ma’am.” Peter said politely. “This is Y/n L/n and she’s mute. She also spent her summer watching the Star Wars movies but she fell asleep sometime between Attack of the Clones and Revenge of the Sith.”

Surprised murmurs swept though the crowd at the mention of the word “mute”. It was something the students hadn’t been exposed to yet and you felt the individual pricks as they sunk their teeth into it. Knowing the pantomime spotlight was being shone on you, you turned to the class and gave a weak smile.

“My apologies.” Mrs. Ingrid said shortly. “I forgot we had a disabled student this year. Thank you, Peter. And welcome Y/n.”

She turned her back to the class to hide the flush of embarrassment as a student called her out, but Peter had more to say.

“It’s not a disability.” He spoke up, shrinking in his seat when everyone’s eyes went to him.

“I’m sorry?” Mrs. Ingrid turned around with an unamused grin.

“Well, Y/n is mute because of an anxiety disorder.” Peter explained. “She physically has the ability to speak, but she mentally feels like she can’t. She doesn’t see it as a disability.”

“Did she tell you that?” Flash, a boy with his name stitched onto the pocket of his shirt, asked from somewhere behind the room, making the whole room laugh at you.

The whole room except Peter

Peter turned around in his seat and glared at Flash, armed and ready to defend you if needed.

“Yes, she did.” Peter stated. “She tells me everything.”

Flash snickered and rolled his eyes as Peter turned around in his seat. Other students continues to gawk at you, as if your mutism could be seen on the outside. Your face flamed red until you felt Peters hand on your shoulder, squeezing it three times to calm you down.

“I apologize, Y/n.” Mrs. Ingrid smiled at you. “Would the next student like to go?”

You walked home once the day had ended with Peter by your side, quietly thinking to yourself as he talked about his science class.

“Anyways.” He paused time catch his breath as he finished his story. “How was your day?”

You looked at him sideways before grabbing his hand and writing an “E” on his palm.

“Come on. English wasn’t that bad.” He insisted, grimacing a little when you glared at him. You made a gesture of a circle before sharply pointing at yourself.

“I know. But I bet everyone had a moment today where they felt like everyone was staring at them.” Peter tried to assure you but you rolled your eyes.

“Tomorrow will be better.” Peter said decidedly. “That Flash kid is so annoying though. How many classes do you have with him?”

You held up three fingers and Peters eyes widened in sympathy.

“Three?” He gasped. I’m so sorry. Hopefully he was just trying to show off for the first day.”

You shrugged a little and pantomimed popping your collar, to which Peter laughed.

“Right?” Peter exclaimed. “Why does he dress like a mobsters son?”

Your shoulders moved up and down as you silently laughed with him, nearing your apartment building now.

“We should do something to celebrate our first day.” Peter decided. “What do you want?”

You looked at him and raised your eyebrows, a smile appearing on his face as he caught your drift.

“You read my mind.” He sighed happily and he shifted the weight of his backpack to his other shoulder. “Coffee ice cream and Impractical Jokers it is.”

You put your hands over your heart and made a dreamy expression, to which Peter let out a groan.

“Stop it.” He laughed though a whine. “You’re the only one who thinks Sal is hot.”

You shoved him playfully as you entered the lobby of your building, making a face he knew all too well.

“I’m not having this argument with you again.” He wagged his finger in your face as he pushed the elevator button. You pouted and took his hand, writing out an expletive on his palm.

“Don’t use that tone with me young lady.” Peter feigned a gasp as he held his hand to his chest. You gave him an unamused look as he laughed at his own joke.

“Hey. “ He said suddenly as he took your hand. “Happy first day.”

You reluctantly smiled at his newfound sentimentality and squeezed his hand three times, for for each word.

~

“Mrs. Ingrid.” Flash’s hand shot up one November morning. “When we present the projects tomorrow, can Brian present mine?”

“No, Eugene.” She sighed, a snicker coming from the class as he used his first name. “Every student must do their own presentation.”

“Then how come Y/n doesn’t have to do one?” He asked spitefully, making everyone look at you. You looked to Peter for help, who was already turned in his seat to face Flash.

“You know why she doesn’t.” He said dully, tired of Flash’s unjustified vendetta against you.

“Well I don’t think it’s fair that she gets special treatment.” Flash short back, making some students “ooo” and agree.

“It’s not special treatment. Y/n is mute, Flash. You, on the other hand, have made it very clear that you are not.” Peter sassed, making the class laugh. Flash’s face turned red in embarrassment as he looked around the room for help.

“Selective mute.” He emphasized. “That means she can talk if she wanted to. You said so on the first day, Penis Parker.”

“It’s not like a light switch she can turn on and off, Flash. She doesn’t feel like she has a choice. Leave her alone.” Peter barked, getting up out of his seat now.

“If she wants me to leave her alone, she should tell me herself.” Flash snapped, getting up as well. You looked between the two boys with fearful eyes, tugging on Peters sleeve to get him to back down.

“What’s your problem?” Peter asked angrily. “What are you, jealous because she’s never spoken in this class yet still outperforms you?”

The class laughed at Peters insult, only making Flash angrier.

“I’d like to see how well she’d do without you as her interpreter.” He yelled as he pointed a finger at Peter.

“That’s enough.” Mrs. Ingrid slammed her hands on her desk. “Both of you, sit down. Y/n will be doing a power point presentation. End of discussion.”

“Yeah, that’s enough Eugene.” Peter hissed as he took his seat.

“That’ll be all, Peter.” Mrs. Ingrid narrowed her eyes at your best friend. “If this continues, I’ll have to request that the three of you be separated and put into different classes.”

“Why should Y/n and I be separated just because Flash is a dick?” Peter asked, eyes widened when he realized what he said. The students laughed at the sound of a curse word, even if it was one the uses on a daily. You looked at Peter scornfully and tapped his desk twice, communicating with him to calm down.

“Mr. Parker. I’ll be seeing you in detention.” Mrs. Ingrid stated. “Everyone, take out your textbooks and turn to page 117.”

You put your textbook on your desk and looked at Peter, giving him a sympathetic pout for getting him in trouble. You reached over and took his hand, squeezing it twice to apologize.

“You have nothing to be sorry for.” He whispered to you. “Detention is a small price to pay for getting to call Flash a dick to his face.”

You squeezed his hand again and tilted your head to the side, making him shake his head at you.

“No, it’s not your fault.” Peter insisted.” It was mine. I interrupted the class, not you. Don’t worry about me.”

You sighed and brushed the side of your nose with your thumb, causing Peter to smile.

“I know.” He said softly. “I always worry about you too.”

~

You found Peter waiting for you at your locker at the end of the school day, bouncing with excitement to tell you a story from his algebra class. You listened intently as you collected your books, linking your arm through his once you were done. You walked past Mrs. Ingrids classroom and heard someone clear their throat, making you both stop in your tracks.

“Going somewhere, Mr. Parker?” She asked as she appeared in the doorway, arms folded and glasses perched on the lower part of her nose bridge.

“Shoot. I forgot I have detention.” Peter groaned before turning to you. “Do you mind waiting?”

You pointed behind you with your thumb and shrugged as Peter chewed his lip nervously.

“Are you sure? What if somebody asks you for directions?” He worried, not liking the idea of you walking home by yourself. You looked at him like he was silly and pointed your finger in both directions, signally that you could just point someone in the right direction of the asked.

“Well what if the directions are really complex?” Peter added, coming up with any excuse he could think of. You made a gesture that Mrs. Ingrid didn’t understand, but seemed to make all the sense in the world to Peter.

“You’re right. You don’t need a babysitter.” He agreed. “Do you want to meet back in my room at 4?”

You nodded and took his books from him so you could drop them off in his room.

“Okay. I’ll see you then.” He promised as you took his hand and squeezed it three times.

“I love you too.” He smiled, giving you three squeezes before walking in the direction of the detention room. Mrs. Ingrid watched him until he disappeared around a corner, turning to you once he was gone.

“You and Peter, are you two together?” She questioned, making you shake your head. She smiled a little, looking amused as she took off her glasses and rubbed them on her shirt.

“Someone should tell him that.” She chuckled, sliding her glasses back on her face. You put your hand over your heart and rubbed it in a circle, the first gesture Mrs. Ingrid understood.

“I see.” She nodded. “You have a nice day now, Y/n. Get home safe.”

You smiled in appreciation at her before waving goodbye, walking out the doors of the school and towards your building.

You tucked your thumbs under the straps of your backpack as you walked, taking every precaution to step over the cracks in the sidewalk as you approached them.

“Hey, Hellen Keller, wait up.”

You froze for a moment when you heard Flash’s voice behind you before quickly picking up your pace. Unfortunately, he had the same idea and ran to catch up with you, grabbing your arm and forcing you to turn around when he got there.

“I was talking to you. Are you deaf too now?” He snickered devilishly as you pulled your arm out of his grasp. You kept walking, but he fell into a stride right beside you.

“So how does it work? Can you and Peter read each other’s thoughts? Does he ever think about me?” Flash batted his eyelashes but you ignored him. You swallowed nervously as you began to wish you had just waited for Peter.

“Come on, Y/n. You should take my interest in you as a compliment.” Flash smirked, making you roll your eyes. “I wanna hear you speak.”

Your unbreaking silence woke up something animalistic in Flash, making him grab both your arms and pushing you into a vacant alley. He pressed you against a wall, gripping both your arms so tight, you were sure they’d bruise.

“Didn’t you hear me? Say something.” He bellowed, getting right in your face as he screamed. You turned your face away and grimaced, fidgeting to get out of his grasp.

“Fine.” He laughed in a way that made your blood turn cold. “You don’t want to talk? Then I wanna hear you scream.”

Your eyes widened as he threw you to the ground, your body skidding on the pavement as you moved. He stalked up to you like a Brute, towering over you as you held up a hand.

“Where’s your little boyfriend now?” He asked, raising his fist above your head. A scream ripped through your throat as his fist came down, never making contact with your face. You opened your eyes slowly and saw him wiping his hands, a satisfied smirk on his lips.

“That’s what I thought. See you tomorrow. Can’t wait to see your PowerPoint.” He quipped, spitting on the ground next to you before leaving. Once you were sure he was gone, you sat up. Your hands went to your elbow first, as you felt blood tricking from an open wound. It wasn’t anything serious, just a scrape and a friction burn. Your hands then traveled to your neck, fingers resting over your vocal chords. You hadn’t heard a sound come from your mouth in 10 years, not even a laugh. The scream that came from your mouth was different from screams you’d heard in movies. It was deeper and hollow, as if it came from an animal. Tears stung your eyes as you got up, body aching from hitting the ground. You looked around the corner before continuing your way home, looking over your shoulder every so often out of fear.

You cleaned your elbow up in Peters bathroom, sticking a few Paw Patrol bandaids to the cut as you waiting for him to come home. You ended up falling asleep on his bed, only waking up when he came in a quarter last five.

“Hey sleepy head. I’m sorry I’m late.” He spoke in a hushed tone as he knelt beside his bed. “Mrs. Ingrid made me write on the board 100 times like Bart Simpson. Did you get back okay?”

You nodded as you sat up, slowly opening your sleep heavy eyes. Peter smiled as he smoothed the hair that was sticking up on either side of your part, smile fading when he took a closer look at your face.

“What happened? Have you been crying?” He worried as he cupped your face, turning it slightly to get a better look. Taking a deep breath to brace for Peters reaction, you held out your arm. He caught sight of the bandaids almost instantly, looking at you in disbelief before gently examining your arm.

“Who did this to you?” He demanded as he carefully twisted your arm to see the full extent of the wound. You weakly pantomimed a popped collar, seeing the anger in Peters eyes grow as he understood.

“Fucking Flash.” He stood up abruptly and slammed his hand on his wall. “I knew I shouldn’t have let you walk home alone.”

You got up and went over to him, shaking your head sympathetically.

“I did too have a choice.” He disagreed. “People skip detention all the time. How could I let this happen?” He asked, more so to himself as he sat on the bed. He put his head in his hands, hiding out of the shame he felt. You took a seat beside him and wrapped your arms around his shoulders while resting your head on his body. You tapped his leg four times, making him bring his head out of his heads to shake it.

“It is my fault.” He told you. “I provoked him in English and that’s why he went after you. I should’ve been there. I’m so sorry.”

You pouted and took his chin between your fingers, squeezing his arm twice with your free hand.

“It’s not okay!” He yelled. “He’s been targeting you since day one. I bet he planned this. He’s probably been waiting to get you along. Did he hurt you anywhere else? Oh god, did he touch you?” Peter could barely see past his disgust long enough to get the words, turning a little green as the worst case scenario played in his mind. You frantically shook your head and Peter calmed down just a little.

“He’s lucky. He’d be a dead man if he did.” Peter stated assertively. You tilted your head and gave him a disapproving look that he read in seconds.

“How am I overreacting?” He asked. “You’re hurt! He hurt you! Screw this - I’m gonna kill him.” He got up again and heading towards the door. You sprung up from the bed and threw your arms around him from behind, stopping him in his tracks. You squeezed his tightly, resting your chin on his shoulder as you held him back. He struggled to break out of your grasp until he heard a strangled sound emit from your throat. As distorted and muffled as it was, Peter knew was you were trying to say.

“Stay.”

He hung his head in shame, knowing it scared you when he raised his voice. He put his hands over yours, which had been resting on his chest.

“I’m sorry.” He sighed, keeping his eyes down. “I didn’t mean to yell at you. You know I worry about you.”

You slowly withdrew your hands and turned him around, taking his face in your hands and making him look at you.

“I know you don’t need me to protect you. Is it wrong that I still want too?” He smiled weakly as he leaned into your palms. You shook your head and moved your hands down to his shoulders, shrugging a little to tell him you didn’t mind.

“I’m walking you home tomorrow.” He promised as he pulled you into a hug. “And everyday for the rest of my life.”

You patted his back four times, making his body shake with laughter.

“Yeah.” He sighed. “Sounds good to me too.”

~

You entered Peters room a little over a year later after receiving a frantic text. The text contained exactly one word, “ouchie”, and the rest was gibberish. Peters wise eyes met yours and you smiled at him, smile fading as your eyes trailed down his body. He was clad in nothing but his boxers and one single sock, glistening with sweat from head to toe. Your best friends lean and scrawny body that you has seen hundreds of times since your childhood was replaced with broad shoulders and solid muscle, features that made your face burn all the way to your ears. That wasn’t what shocked you, though. What shocked you was the series of papers, pens, shirts, and granola bars that were sticking to his body as if adhered with glue.

“Whats happening to me?” He screamed, tugging at a Nature Valley bar sticking to his nipple. You held back a laugh when you saw how scared he looked and approached him slowly like a deer in the woods. You reached out a hand but he backed away as if you might burn him.

“Don’t.” He croaked. “You’ll stick too and I don’t…I don’t want to hurt you.”

You waved your hand in dismissal and reached out again, placing a cool hand on Peters burning cheek. His eyes shut in tranquillity as he leaned into your hand, letting your touch calm him as it had done so many times in the past.

You peeled a shirt off his shoulder and plucked a pencil off his thigh as his breathing slowed down. You cupped his face in your hands and looked at him, wordlessly asking him to tell you what happened.

“I went to Oscorp yesterday and this spider bit me and I woke up really sweaty - and I mean really sweaty - and then I got super hungry so I went ham on granola bars - and I’m talking ape shit Y/n I didn’t even chew I just went feral on those crumbly bitches - and then things kept sticking to me and I don’t know what to do and-“

You acted on a whim and pulled Peters face towards yours, kissing him firmly on the lips. The only noise in the room was the sound of pens and granola bars hitting the ground as they slowly unstuck from his body. Peter places a gentle hand on your face as he kissed you back. You pulled away, feeling his eyelashes tickle your face as his eyes fluttered open.

“And you just kissed me.” He laughed slightly, pace significantly slower now. You gave him a knowing look and shrugged a little, making him laugh.

“You’re right.” He realized. “You didn’t stick.”

You wrapped your arms around Peters neck and pressed your forehead against his, letting silence fill the room as he held you.

“I don’t know what this means. I’m…I’m scared.” He whispered as he nuzzled against you. You shook your head a little, telling him he didn’t have to be scared. Moving your head up to look at you, you took his face between your hands and kissed his lips three times in a row. After the third kiss, a cheeky smile lingered on Peters lips.

“I love you too.” He told you, grinning widely before kissing you again.

~

You laid on Peters chest, a few years out of college now. His shirt was riding up a little, exposing bare skin that served as your canvas. A shy smile made on a home on your face as you traced letters on his skin.

“What was that?” He asked when he felt your touch but couldn’t make out your words. “Say it again.”

You chuckled a little at his phrasing, and he did too. In accordance to his request, you wrote your sentence again, taking your time with the curve of each letter. Peter furrowed his eyebrows a little as he propped himself up on his elbows, a little annoyed with himself for not being able to decipher what you were saying. He prided himself on being fluent in your secret language, so the only possible answer was that whatever you were writing now was something you had never written before.

“Wait, do it again.” He asked, determined to crack the code. You sat up on your elbow as well, looking at him through your lashes as you traced the words again.

“I’m convinced this is gibberish.” Peter shook his head through a chuckle, looking at curiously to see if you were messing with him. You let out a tiny whine as you stuck your bottom lip out, patting his chest twice to tell him to try harder.

“Fine, fine. Try again. But go slowly.”

You sucked in a breath and held your fingernail to his skin, slowly tracing the first word.

“Will?” He asked, grinning when you nodded and continued to write.

“You?” He looked to you for confirmation. “Will you?”

You nodded again, feeling butterflies now and you moved to the next word.

“Many?” He questioned. You shook your head repeatedly, anxious for him to figure it out. You wrote it again and saw it click for him.

“Ohh. Marry.” He smiled, proud of himself for getting it. His eyes met yours and all at once, he understood why he couldn’t figure it out before.

No one fault really, you just never proposed to him before.

“Wait.” His lips curved into a smile as he cupped your chin with his hand.

“Do it again.” He asked, unable to contain his excitement as you repeated your actions.

“One more time.” He pleaded, eyes filling with tears now. “I know what it is, I just want to feel it again.”

You wrote it again, writing it on every exposed part of his body now. You proposed on his arm, his chest, his leg and his bicep, a man excited squeal leaving his throat each time you did it.

“Give me your hand.” He fully sat up now, wrapping his arms around you and taking your hand in his. He opened your hand and flattened your palm, bringing his finger to your skin.

“Y-E-S.” He spelled out loud as he wrote on your palm. “Yes. I will marry you.”

~

Smoothing your dress with a shaking hand, you turned to your mom for last minute adjustments before you walked down the isle. She smiled widely as she touched up your hair, handing you your bouquet once she was satisfied.

“Are you ready?” She asked. “That’s a dumb question. You’ve been ready for this since kindergarten.”

Nodding at your mothers words of encouragements, you nervously clutched your bouquet of sunflowers and roses, yours and Peters favorite flowers.

“You’re so lucky to have found each other.” Your mother smiled fondly as she dusted off your shoulders. “To understand someone the way you do, it’s rare. Your father would be proud.”

Emotion overcame you as you pulled your mother into a hug, thanking her the only way you could for getting you that far. The vamping of the organ signaled to you that it was time to go, all your nervously butterflies turning into petals of excitement. Your mother gave you an assuring smile as she slipped her hand into yours, both of you facing forward now as the doors opened.

Everyone turned to look at you, a welcome gesture this time around, as you made your way down the isle. You made eye contact with Peter, who had a hand clamped over his mouth to hide his emotions. He wiped tears from his eyes as Ned patted his back, silently willing you to come faster down the isle. In his mind, you couldn’t walk fast enough. He was not interested in spending one more minute as just your boyfriend. As you got closer to the alter, you waved at the Avengers who had put on their best suits to attend your big day.

And finally, you made your way to Peter.

You whole life had been about making your way to Peter, and now, dressed in white, you had arrived. You handed your bouquet to your mother and accepted Peters hand to help you step onto the alter. Peter sniffled a little as he took your hands in his, overwhelmed in the moment by your beauty.

The priest began to speak, but you didn’t hear much. All you could focus on was your childhood best friend, soon to be husband. Your palms sweat as the vows approached, an unfamiliar tickle resting in your throat.

“And now, the vows.” The priest handed the baton to you and Peter.

“Sunsets, flowers, and you. Three beautiful things that don’t make any noise. I believe some of the most wonderful things a human being can experience happen in silence. I believe that because of you.” Peters voice cracked momentarily. “I stand before you today as someone who is permanently subscribed to your silence. I look forward to a lifetime of knowing looks and written messages on the palm of my hand. I never knew how much could be said through three simple squeezes of my hand, but it feels like my entire life has happened since the first time you touched me and the last. Though your voice has never fallen on my ears, I’m confident I could identify it anywhere. You and I have created something incredible rare, a silence that only comes when two people truly know each other. And I know you. I am blessed to say I know you. I have never heard you speak, but that doesn’t mean I don’t hear you. I hear you in the early hours of the morning when the birds begin to chirp. I hear you when the blood rushes to my face because you looked at me in a certain way. I hear you when the music swells in my favorite song, and I hear you in every beat of my heart. I won’t tell you I’ll love you until death do us part, because even the jaws of death couldn’t end my love for you. I will just find you in the next life, and the one after that. Nothing could keep me away.”

You touched delicate fingers to your under eyes as you dabbed away tears, squeezing Peters hands three times to thank him for his beautiful words. Now the spotlight had once again returned to you and this time, you were ready.

“Peter.”

Peters eyes widened in astonishment before brimming with tears as your voice fell on his ears for the very first time. It wasn’t perfect after so many years of being unused, but it was yours. That’s what made it Peter’s favorite thing in the world. He bent over and rested his forehead on your enjoyed hands, almost like he was bowing to you. He stayed there for a moment before standing up again, his face full of emotion. You knew he was composed enough for you to continue, so you did.

“I shut my mouth when I was 5 and I didn’t think I was going to open it ever again. But then I met you.” You broke into a smile. You spoke slowly, taking deep breaths every few words. “There is no other way I would want to use my voice than to tell you that I love you. I have always loved you.” You sucked in a deep breath as you got emotional. “My mom worried that I wouldn’t make any friends my first day of school, and I didn’t. I made a partner for life. It is one thing to be loved and another thing to be understood. You give me me both in three small squeezes. I love you, Peter.” You finished, punctuating your vows with three squeezes of his hands.

“I love you too.” He whispered, a steady flow of tears streaming down his face now.

“I love you more.” You said, verbally for the first time.

“Peter Parker, do you take Y/n L/n to be your lawfully wedded wife? To have and to hold in sickness and in health, till death do you part?” The priest asked.

“I do.”

“Y/n L/n, do you take Peter Parker to be your lawfully wedded husband? To cherish and honor, for better or for worse?”

“I do.”

“Oh my God.” Peter gushed, making the crowd laugh. Peter was still recovering from the fact that your first word was his name, and now you had said the two sacred words he’d been waiting his whole life to hear.

“By the power invested in me, I now pronounce you man and wife.” The priest smiled. “You may kiss the bride.”

Peter wasted no time in taking your face between his hands and kissing you, smiling with joy into the kiss as you officiated your marriage.

“You did so good baby.” He whispered against your lips as the crowd clapped for you.

“Thank you.” You giggled, proud of yourself for what you did. “I’ve been practicing with my therapist since the proposal.”

“It was amazing. That’s was the greatest surprise anyone’s ever given me. Even if it was just for today, I’m so happy I could hear your voice. I love you so much.” He told you before pulling you into a hug. You rested your head on his shoulder and held him tightly, thanking God that he came up to you that first day of kindergarten.

“I love you too.”

Tag List 🏷

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[monako-jinn-stories]

Naughty Home Videos

Fives X Fem!Jedi Reader

NSFW

Master List

Warnings:

Adult Age+, Not Good For Work, mouth stuff male and fem receiving, unprotected p in v, consensual recording intercourse

I may believe in Fives and Shaak Ti supremacy, because no one can convince me that this man WASN’T head over heels in love with her, (she gorgeous, do you blame him?) but I also had the idea to write about a clone recording sex, and I instantly imagined Fives as being the mostly likely to do it, so that’s where this came in.

You were going away for a while. Your next mission would be longer than most, and you wouldn’t be able to see Fives for only the Maker knows how long. You didn’t want this last night together to end. You had gone to dinner and then wandered around the streets of Coruscant, going anywhere but to the temple as that would mean the end of the night was coming, and the next day you would be leaving.

“It’s getting pretty late,” Fives said as you walked down the street.

“I know,” you replied, feet slightly dragging beneath you. “We can stay out though, it’s not too late.” You heard Fives sigh from behind you before he gently grabbed your hand to stop you.

“Y/n,” he said, pulling you closer to him. “I can see your legs starting to shake from walking so much. You can’t keep trying to get away from this.”

“What if we just run away?” You said, gripping his hands in your own. He chuckled lightly at you while shaking his head.

“I’m serious! What if we just abandon the war and the Republic. Go find somewhere nice to live out our days.”

“Y/n, you have men that will be waiting for you to lead them into battle tomorrow. I have a general who is counting on me to do my duty and help fight alongside him and my brothers. We can’t run away, this is how are lives are.”

You sighed as you threw your head back, closing your eyes. You opened them to stare at the stars above you for a minute before looking back at Fives.

“Come on,” he said, leading you over to a random speeder. “Let’s make our last night together even more special.” He climbed on and you got on behind him, wrapping your arms around him tightly. He sped back to the temple where you made sure to sneak him back up to your room without anyone seeing.

“I had an idea,” he said as you walked into your quarters.

“Okay, shoot,” you said.

“You know how since we won’t be able to see each other for a while, we won’t be able to fuck?” You paused for a second, turning to eye him at his bluntness.

“Yes…” you said cautiously. “Why?”

“Well, I was thinking, since I normally just think about you when I’m in the showers or we holocall,” he said while making his way over to the bag he had left here earlier, “what if we don’t have to rely on our memories or holocalls to see each other.”

“What do you mean? How would we-“ You stopped your sentence short when you saw him pull out the object from his bag. It was a cam for taking holovideos.

“I want this night to be amazing, and then I don’t want to ever forget how it made us feel. I want to be able to watch these memories,” he said while meeting your gaze. You were silent as your wrapped your mind around what he was asking.

“You want to record us fucking?”

“No, I want to record me eating your pussy like it’s a three course meal. I want to record you throating my cock as if it supplied your oxygen. I want to record us crashing our hips together, crying out for each other as our bodies intertwine.” As he spoke, he had been walking closer to you, and you had involuntarily been stepping back while bringing your hands up to grip his shirt.

“Fives,” you breathed out as he brought his face to yours.

“Yes, mesh’la?” He asked, his voice a deep rumble.

You internally moaned at the sound of him, relishing in the tone that only you ever got to hear. You sat on the bed and scooted back, laying down as he crawled over you.

“Fuck me, fuck me hard,” you said before his lips met yours. The kiss was heated and full of passion and desire. Your hands roamed curiously over each other’s bodies, reaching under the fabrics the other wore. You both pulled apart long enough to discard all your clothing before attaching your lips again. He was practically laying on you, his chest pressed against your own. You could feel his rapid heartbeat against your chest, no doubt getting faster as he became more aroused. Your hand ran up his arm to massage is bicep, earning a groan from him. His hand ran up your side and then back down, gripping the inside of your thigh, knuckles brushing against your folds. A shiver ran through you at the touch before he sat back, grabbing the camera from your bedside stand.

“Are you ready?” He asked, finger hovering over the record button. You nodded your head, biting your lip. You saw the light turn on that indicated he was recording. You watched him pan the camera down so that every part of you was shown. Keeping the camera full of you, he leaned down so that he could slip two digits into you.

He groaned when he did, mumbling out, “so kriffing wet already.” Your legs involuntary squeezed together when he said that.

“Oh, mesh’la,” he cooed, “don’t waste your energy now. Relax, let me take care of you.” You did as he said and let his fingers sink deeper into you. You let out soft moans as you felt him curl inside you. You bucked your hips as he worked, helping him reach the spot you needed.

“Fuck, Fives,” you moaned as he started thumbing your clit. He smirked as he brought the camera down to be level with his fingers, making sure to get close enough that it would pick up the wet sounds of your cunt as well.

“Now you’ll get to know what my view is like,” he mumbled as he worked you closer. You felt yourself coming to the edge, and he quickly placed the camera on the stand next to you bed, making sure you were both in the recording area. He then leaned forward, removing his fingers to replace them with his mouth. He threw one of your legs over his shoulder as he began devouring you.

“Fives,” you moaned out, the feeling of his tongue dragging over your clit sending waves of pleasure over you. His hand crept it’s way up and found one of your boobs. He squeezed it with his whole hand before he went to toying with your tit. You moaned as he rolled it through his finger and thumb while simultaneously starting to fuck you with his tongue. He gripped your boob again before switching to the other, repeating the actions he used on the first.

“Oh, mesh’la, you taste so divine,” he growled into you. The feeling of his words sent vibrations over your body.

“I-I’m close, Fives,” you managed to whimper. “So close.”

He stopped suddenly, removing his hand from your boob as he pulled his face up and away from you.

Before you could protest his actions, he laid down and said, “I want you to sit on my face.” You felt your cheeks flood with color. You had never done this before, but it was definitely something you imagined all the time.

“A-are you sure?” You stammered out.

“Get on my face,” he repeated, slightly demanding. His tone only aroused you more and you quickly moved to sit over his face. He reached over and handed you the camera before he placed his hands on your hips, securely holding you up.

“I want you to record yourself cumming all over my face,” he growled before he began making another meal out of you. It was a good thing he was close to the wall because you fell forward, having to put a hand out to keep you from falling all the way. The sensation of his tongue inside you as his nose rubbed your clit was almost overwhelming. You struggled in remembering to keep the camera focused on the situation below you. He reached up a hand to toy with your boobs again. Your eyes kept trying to flutter shut, and you resisted throwing your head back. He groaned into you, sending more shivers down your spine and eliciting a moan of your own.

“Fuck, Fives,” you said, “I’m going to cum this time.”

“Do it,” he mumbled onto your skin. “All over my face.” You bit your lip for a second before you felt your fall come. You let out a string of moans laced with his name and a string of curse words. You rocked your hips slightly which caused him to groan in response. You felt him try to buck his own hips, needing attention of his own. After you stopped pooling onto him, you sat back onto his chest. Your face flushed when you saw your juices all over him. Quite a bit of it was mixed into the beard on his chin.

“Damn good meal,” he said while he ran a hand up your thigh. “But I can’t forget to feed the lady.”

You scooted back so that you were no longer sitting on him. You ran the camera down his body so that you could get a good shot of him. You then handed him the camera before taking his length into your grip. You gave him a few testing pumps, to which he let out soft groans in response. You leaned down and licked a stripe up his shaft, making sure to collect all the precum onto your tongue. You looked up directly into the camera as you took his head into your mouth. You let out a small moan, and his grip on the camera tightened slightly. You took him a few inches deeper into your mouth before you slowly pulled up. Before he could miss the feeling of your mouth around him, you went back down and up slowly again, fitting more of him in your mouth each time you repeated the action.

“Kriff,” he said, “you keep going deeper each time.” You merely moaned in response, causing him to buck his hips slightly. You made sure to hollow your cheeks as you made your way back up, intending to suck every last drop from him. As you bobbed your head, his hand trailed down to grab a fist full of hair. His gentle tugging elicited another moan from you, and you swear you felt him get stiffer as you took him down your throat. You felt the veins in his cock as you rubbed your tongue into him.

“I don’t know how much longer I’ll last like this if you keep that up, mesh’la,” he said as he bucked his hips again. You merely pulled back so that just his head remained in your mouth before you gave him an innocent look.

“Fuck,” he groaned as he took in your expression. When you played innocent, it drove him crazy. He knew you’re experiences were far from angelic, yet you still had the audacity to act as though you were nothing but a saint.

Before he could say anything more, you bobbed back down on him, a faster pace than you had before.

“Mesh’la, I’m going to cum down your throat if you don’t watch it,” he groaned. Wanting nothing more than to feel his release slide down inside you, you went as fast as you could while keeping it pleasurable.

“Fuck, mesh’la,” he said, “I’m going to cum.” You looked up to see the camera shaking in his grip, him trying to keep it steady while preparing for his release. You moaned one more time on his cock, and that was what sent him over. You felt his hot ropes shoot out and down into your throat. You swallowed around him, doing your best to milk him dry. You slowly pulled all the way up, making sure to lick one last stripe across his head before you sat back and wiped your chin. You flashed a devilish grin at him before you crawled over him. You took the camera from him and placed it back on the stand before you crashed your lips to his. He instantly flipped you over so that he could hover over you, one hand holding him up while the other trailed down to finger you again. The make out didn’t last long, though, as he only needed a few minutes to recover before he decided to hit another position. He rolled over and pulled you to sit on top of him. He positioned his cock at your entrance before nodding towards the camera. You quickly leaned over to grab it. Before your hand closed around it, you felt him thrust up violently into you, causing you to let out a loud moan. You fell forward, catching yourself again with a hand on the wall. You looked down at his evil grin as he began moving back out of you.

“Bastard,” you said, managing to get the camera into you hands. You sat back and he began his movements again, slowly at first as to let you find a good matching pace. He held your hips tightly, no doubt leaving bruises for the days to come.

“Oh, Fives,” you moaned, letting your head fall back. You rolled your hips into his thrusts, which pulled a particularly loud groan from him.

“Fuck, keeping doing that, mesh’la,” he said, grip on you tightening ever so slightly. The sound of your skin meeting was loud enough that the camera didn’t need to be close to pick it up. The sounds of your sopping cunt being filled up repeatedly by his cock filled the room. You let yourself fall forward enough to be able to run a hand up and down his chest, nails scratching slightly into him. His muscles rippled under your touch, and you made sure to get a good recording of it.

“Kriff, Fives, I can feel it again,” you moaned out as you felt another knot forming.

“Mesh’la, I’m going to need you to wait for me,” he replied through gritted teeth. The way he brought his thrusts up into you made you doubt that you could last much longer.

“Fives, I don’t think I can,” you cried out. His eyes flashed dark as he pulled out to grab the camera from you and placed it on the stand. He then pulled you down and flipped you over, yanking your hips into the air.

“Fives!” You cried out again. This new angle certainly wouldn’t help with keeping you from falling again.

“Shh, mesh’la. Someone might hear,” he cooed as he rutted back into you. You clawed at the pillows in front of you, bringing one down so you could bury your face in it. It did the job with stifling your moans, not so much that they were lost to Fives or the camera, but enough that they wouldn’t leave the room. You felt him leaned forward, and you lifted your head to see him grab the camera. You looked over your shoulder at him, meeting his fiery gaze for a few seconds. A smirk flashed over his lips before he pounded harder into you. Your eyes rolled as your back arched even more, incoherent words falling from your mouth as you clenched around him in release. You heard him suck in a breath before letting a deep groan rumble through his body. You felt his hand running up and down your back, soothing you as you rode out your fall. He pulled out and flipped you back over.

“I’m going to cum on you, and then I’m going to come in you,” he said in an impossibly deep voice. You watched from below him as he stroked himself a few more times before his hot cum shot onto your stomach. When he had made sure there was nothing more coming, he released his cock to drag two fingers through the mess he left on you. You watched as he spread him juices over his fingers with his thumb before he looked back down at you, meeting your gaze. The corner of his mouth turned up as he stared at you, watching your reaction. You face flushed and mouth dropped open slightly when he shoved his cum covered fingers back into you, making sure to capture the moment on the camera.

“W-what are you doing,” you moaned as you rocked your hips up. He placed the camera on the stand again before leaning over you. He was already thumbing your clit as he kissed a trail up your body. When he reached your chest, he gently nipped at your boob before he took a good, but not too harsh, bite. He quickly soothed it by rubbing his tongue over the spot before the went to suck on your nipple. He removed his fingers from you to massage your other boob, moving closer so that his hard-again tip was brushing against your folds. He switched boobs and repeated his process, making sure each side got equal treatment. When he was satisfied, he pulled one of your legs up to wrap around his waist as he positioned at your entrance. He pushed in agonizingly slow, filling you up to the base of his cock before he slowly pulled back out, leaving just his head inside.

“Fuck, you gotta go faster than that,” you moaned.

“Patience, mesh’la. I want this video to be plenty long,” he drawled as he slowly pushed in again. He was still holding your leg up as he moved, his pace increasing slowly. When he finally reached a fast enough pace, you brought your other leg up and crossed them as best you could behind him. He let go of the leg he held so that he could use both hands to hold himself up above you.

“Kriff,” he said, “you’ve taken me so well tonight. Can’t imagine a better night to film.”

You must moaned in response, hands going to his back. You felt his muscle flexing under your fingers as you ghosted them down, then slowly drug your nails back up. You opened your eyes long enough to see a vein in his neck pop out, like many had done in his biceps. You moved a hand to grab onto one of those bulging biceps, pulling a groan him his lips as you squeezed it.

His cock was somehow managing to hit your spot and rub against your clit at once. The way his hips were working to edge you closer and closer one last time was a feat you swore only he could manage to accomplish.

“Fuck, Fives, I t-think this is the last t-time I can cum t-tonight,” you managed to slip out.

“Then it’s going to be a damn good orgasm,” he responded huskily. He shifted slightly, angling impossibly better as he continued to ram his hips into yours. The knot in your stomach felt incredibly tight as you struggled to last just a bit longer.

“Fives, I need to cum, now!”

He groaned deeply in response, lowering to attach his lips to yours as he pulled the orgasms from both of you. Your moans were caught in his mouth as your lips bruised each other, tongue clashing in a pitiful fight for dominance. You felt him cum deep inside you as your juices spilled over his cock. The sound of your combined fluids no doubt picked up by the camera. He moved his hips a few more times, making sure you were both fully finished before he stilled. He didn’t pull out just yet, instead choosing to keep your lips attached for a few more minutes. When you finally stopped kissing and pulled apart, his chest was rising and falling as if he had just ran 10 clicks. He reached for the camera before he slowly pulled out of you, recording the string of your mixed juices that followed his cock. He let the camera capture your body one more time before he stopped the recording.

You tossed him a towel from your stand to clean you both up with. You always made sure to have one ready and handy, in case he ever popped by unexpectedly.

“The boys will be so jealous when I tell them about this,” he said as he tossed the towel in your dirty clothes before laying down next to you. You rolled over and wrapped and arm around him, resting your head on his bare chest.

“You better not let any of them watch it,” you mumbled into him.

“What? And share my mesh’la with them? I would never dream of it,” he assured you. “There’s not another man in this galaxy that I will ever allow to see you like that.”

“Good,” you said before you lifted your face to give him a quick kiss on his jaw. His grip around your waist tightened as he let out a deep breath. You didn’t say anything else as you two quickly fell asleep, basking in each other’s warmth after a very tiring night.

The next morning, Fives made sure to share the video with you, safeguarded with a password that not even the best hacker could get around. He escorted you to your ship where he gave you a deep and passionate kiss before he let you leave him.

“What are you watching?” Echo said as he entered the room, hearing weird sounds coming from Fives’s datapad. He quickly stopped the video, bringing his legs up to hide his aroused state. His hand had been working himself under the covers before his brother walked in.

“Nothing,” he replied, a cheeky smirk coming to his face. Echo’s eyes widened as he realized what he had interrupted.

“You were watching that video again?”

“Yes, now leave me alone. I just got to the part where I-“

“Enough! I don’t want to hear about it,” Echo said while covering his ears and walking back out. “And lock the door next time!” He shouted as the door shut behind him. Let’s just say that by the time you returned, Fives had burned that video into his memory. And you had certainly watched it every spare chance you had on your mission.

[xmalfoyweasleyx]

No future with a boy like this - F.W

Summary: Fred disappoints you more than once, giving you no other choice, you had to let him go.

Warnings: ANGSTY, cursing, implied sex very briefly, FLUFF AT THE END

A/N: my firsts time writing angst and I really don’t know if i was overdramatic or not enough dramatic lol please give feedback

April- 1996 - Hogwarts

Y/n was waiting on the tribune next to the quidditch field. It was already getting darker now. An orange glow spreading over the field. The sun was going down already. She was sitting there for two hours now.

She promised herself she would stop waiting after an hour but here she was, still hoping he would show up.

It was her birthday, it was her fucking birthday. And this wasn't the first time. It started with little dates, he forgot them sometimes but y/n didn't mind, he made it up every time.

He hurt her by forgetting those things all the time. But it was Fred Weasley after all. You knew this was coming when he became your boyfriend. You even got used to it. He was always busy. That's just how Fred is.

And here she was again. Trying to not let the tears of disappointment fall down on her cheeks. She felt miserable and decided to finally call it a night, going back to her dorm. She was exhausted.

Walking down the corridors, she saw Fred. He was just sitting there, laughing with George. That's when it was clear, he wasn't even late, he just forgot.

He saw her and smiled, walking her way, but she turned on her heals immediately. "Y/n!" he screamed confused. He followed her and his long legs made it easy to catch up.

She didn't answer, finding it much harder to hold back her tears now. "Y/n? Hey? What's wrong?" he asked.

Y/n stopped abruptly. "You really don't know?" she hissed.

A confused look formed on his face. "What do you mean"? he stammered. A tear fell down her cheek and his face was full of guilt now, without even knowing what he did.

"You forgot", you snapped, "again!"

He was thinking for one minute. It really took him one minute. What was wrong with that boy?!

Suddenly a wave of realization hit him. "Fuck." he squealed.

Y/n didn't need this shit right now, and ran away before he could say something. Making him run after her. "NO y/n wait! I'm so sorry, I won't forget next time, I promise, I'm so sorry" he begged while grabbing her arm, pulling her closer to him.

"You say that every time Fred" she sighed, another tear fell down.

It broke Fred's heart. It really did. He didn't mean to forget this things, he didn't want to hurt you. His mind was just so full all the time. So many things were going on in those brains of his.

"I mean it, I'm sorry, I love you y/n" he assured.

And she fell for it, like she always did. It happened every time. Fred said things that made her melt, and she forgave him. It was nothing new. Because how could she not? The sweet boy didn't mean to hurt her, she knew that, everyone knew that.

But still, her friends warned her. There was no future with a boy like this. It couldn't stay like this. So she swore to herself this was the last time. She made that clear to Fred too.

Because what if he's the love of her life? Her future? This was her last year after all, y/n’s future was right in front of her. What if Fred was her future? You both couldn't give that up.

May- 1996 - Hogwarts

Everything was alright.

They were okay.

And Fred hasn’t been late for a whole month, sounds like nothing special but to him and her it was.

This weekend y/n was going home, and not just home, but with Fred.

After a year it was time for him to meet her parents. Fred claimed he was the perfect son in law, so he didn’t hesitate to agree. Y/n was nervous and excited at the same time.

Ready in her dorm, with a portkey, she had her favourite sundress on. She was waiting for Fred but he didn’t show up. Okay it was only 15 minutes now, but with their little history it made her nervous. She was absolutely sure Fred wouldn’t forget this. He can’t forget this.

20 minutes later she was still waiting.

No. This couldn’t be true. It just couldn’t be.

And then, she found a note under her potionsbook. After reading only one word, she was already furious, a growing heat filling her cheeks.

Dear y/n, love

I remembered. I swear. But I just won’t make it. I’m not feeling okay and I think I might have a fever or something. I don’t want to make you or your parents sick, so I’m staying in my dorm.

I love you, kisses Fred x

She didn’t really know what to think. She was so disappointed, again.

But she could’t blame her boyfriend for feeling sick. Although she had her doubts, what if this wasn’t true, maybe he lied because he did forget it?

No, no, she had to trust him. Fred wouldn’t lie to her. So she grabbed the portkey and went to visit her parents.

Alone.

-

When she traveled back to Hogwarts it was late already, past midnight. Y/n hoped Umbridge wouldn’t catch her.

The corridors were empty, completely silent. This was not unusual. Most of the students were already asleep this late on a Sunday.

Unexpectedly, she heard gigles and laughs coming from around the corner. Did it come from the library? It couldn’t be. Not at almost 1 am.

She went closer to listen. Y/n placed her ear on the door. Was it... Was it...? No. No.

Did she hear Fred’s voice?

She really hoped she was just imagining this. Maybe she should trust Fred more.

But just checking won’t hurt right?

So she tried to open the door. It was locked.

“Alohamora” she whispered.

What she saw broke her heart into a million pieces.

Angelina sat on a table, with Fred extremely close to her, giggling. George and Lee were there too.

She couldn’t believe her own eyes. Looking silently in Fred’s shocked ones.

“Fuck” he sighed. “Y/n-“ he tried.

But she cut him off before he could say anything. “No, I don’t wanna hear another silly explanation from you, it’s enough, I don’t want to see you ever again” she screamed with tears in her eyes, making her vision blurry.

Y/n ran away, faster than ever so Fred couldn’t catch up this time.

“Stop!! Stop!” she heard him scream behind her.

She ran and ran, not even knowing were to.

“Let me explain” another scream followed.

That’s when she ended up in a corridor she didn’t know. A dead end. Ofcourse.

She gave up and stopped. Fred ended in front of her, breathing loudly, trying to catch his breath.

“Baby I-“ he tried

“Don’t call me baby, this is over” y/n cut him off.

Fred was speachless, for the first time in history. He didn’t realise this truly happened. He knew what he did wasn’t okay, but he never expected her to actually broke up with him. It just didn’t occur in his mind this was a possibility.

“But.. but...” he stuttered. “I swear, I can explain, what you’ve just seen, it wasn’t what you think it is. I’ve told you about the shoppe George and I want to open, right? It’s actually going to happen. We’re leaving hogwarts. That’s what we were doing, we were planning things. Tomorrow we’re going to blow up Umbridge, no not literally blow up, but with lots of firework! And then we’re going to open the shoppe together. It’s my dream y/n!” he rambled excited.

Y/n sighed. Understanding why he did this, but it didn’t change a thing.

“That actually makes things worse Fred. I’m happy your dream will come true. But you’re leaving and I’m finishing my year. When are you going to have time for me if you run a shop? You didn’t even have time for me now.” she cried.

Both of them were crying now. Knowing the break up was really going to happen. Fred wanted to keep fighting. But he knew she might be right.

A little sob left his mouth, something he never did before. She was right. He truly loved her but he couldn’t give her the happy future she deserved. He wasn’t right for her, he didn’t treat her the way she should’ve been treated. And the idea broke him. And that’s when she walked away.

They didn’t see each other again afterwards.

The next day, y/n laid in her bed when she heard fireworks, knowing what happened. She couldn’t go outside and watch...

Happy screams and laughs filled the castle. And that’s when she realised Fred and George were gone now. It was reality now. They won’t come back. Although a little part of her hoped they would stay. A little part of her thought Fred would come to her, begging her to stay with him. But she guessed he just didn’t love her enough.

After all the times Fred broke her heart, she was kind off used to it. But those heartbreaks couldn’t ever overcome this one.

August - 1996 - Diagon Alley

The summer was almost over, y/n graduated two months ago. The heartbreak still hurted but she was better now. She still didn’t know what to do now that she’s graduated.

Hermione decided you two had to go shopping. “It’ll make you happier” she stated like it was an actual fact. Y/n couldn’t say no of course.

Y/n’s breath hitched. A big clone of Fred’s face right in front of her (or George). This had to be their joke shoppe. God, it was more impressive than she expected. Guess you should never underestimate the twins.

“Let’s go inside y/n!” Hermione announced excited, grabbing her arm trying to puch her inside.

“Oh no no no no no, I don’t think that’s a great idea” she hesitated.

“Don’t worry, it’s so busy, Fred won’t see you” she promised her. Y/n sighed. She really didn’t want to go inside. She’d love to see the shoppe, but seeing Fred...

Whatever, it was true. It was so busy so Fred won’t ever notice her.

They entered, y/n was surprised, it was wonderful. Fred and George must have worked so hard to get to this point. God, she loved the place.

It brought back memories. All those joke products, most of them were used on her, she remembered. Fred thought it was hilarious to prank her literally all the time, being proud because it was something he invented himself. She couldn’t be mad about it, it made him so happy.

The place even smelled like him.

Y/n took a deep breath trying to gather all of the smell, in hope it would stay in her nose, so she could remember it back home.

She closed her eyes and imagined how it could be, if they didn’t broke up. How she would probably come here everyday to say hi, how she would watch Fred all day doing his job.

And then... she saw him. In his uniform, he stood there proudly on the stairs above her. Smiling happily, seeing all those laughing people because if his work.

He was happy. Fred missed y/n but he was happy. He thought a lot of all the things he did wrong. Although he didn’t really have time to worry.

Y/n sighed, it’s been months. Her heart was glowing inside her chest. She didn’t even feel sad any more. This was what her boyfriend always dreamt of. Her ex-boyfriend.

She turned around deciding it was not smart to look at the beautiful boy, the boy who still made her knees go weak.

Fred’s smell was more vibrant than before now. Almost like he was right in front of me.

Ow, love potions, of course.

Of course she still smelled Fred in it.

“I smell honey, flowers and vanilla soap” she heard a familiar voice whispering in her ear, almost making her jump.

“F-fred, hey” she stuttered, in shock by the fact he’s standing right in front of her.

“You look great, changed your hair” he smiled. It was true, y/n cut her hair a little shorter and decided to give it a lighter colour for the summer. The typical breakup haircut.

“Fred do you want to... talk... please?” she asked, knowing it wasn’t a great idea. She wanted to just run away after she realized what she said.

“We could go upstairs, talk in my appartment”

October- 1996 - Diagon Alley

“Come on darling, George opened up already!” Fred screamed running through his kitchen while jumping, trying to get his pants on. He grabbed an apple as breakfast.

Y/n ran to the kitchen too. “I thought you changed the being late thing” y/n joked, yes they joked about it now.

“You were the one holding me up this time” he smiled adding a wink. “You just can’t resist me in the bedroom” y/n answered daring.

She grabbed him by his collar, pressing a kiss on his lips. “I have no choice with the sexiest girlfriend in the word” Fred grinned, pressing kisses all over your face, making you giggle.

“Baby, you’re wearing your uniform backwards” he laughed.

Y/n worked at the shoppe now too.

When she asked Fred to talk, they actually talked for hours. They talked about what went wrong in their relationship, about what they had been doing in those months they broke up, talked about how they still had feelings,...

And after two hours they made up. Both being happier than ever, deciding they learned from their break up.

Fred asked her to come live in his apartment and work in their shop too. Y/n didn’t hesitate for a moment. She designed their boxes or packages and talked to costumers. But most of all she distracted Fred by rolling her uniforme skirt up and bowing down to ‘grab’ something. Sometimes he took her back to the appartment because he couldn’t hold back anymore.

Y/n now knew, the breakup was necessary. You both learned. And now you’re happier than ever.

Because after all, Fred was your future.

***

[skellebonez]

The prompt you wrote with baby MK was extremely cute, but it also gave me an idea that wouldn't leave my brain: Imagine that same situation, but with Mei and Macaque. This is an open prompt, you can do with this whatever you like!

MK isn’t the only one who gets to have this kind of curse/ailment anymore! And I can’t resist putting this in the Cursed AU specifically, simply because I love the idea of this Macaque being confronted face first with the fact he actually cares. Even if it happens 200 times.

"What in the absolute hell are we supposed to do now?" Macaque groaned out, looking around the both of them for any indication of an escape that didn't involve him leaving Mei behind. Which was looking slimmer and slimmer if he didn’t want her to be in more physical danger than she already was. So. Stranded it was.

"I can still help!" Mei insisted, crossing her arms and standing her ground with a wide smirk. "I'm not powerless you know!"

"Never said you were, Jade," Macaque acknowledged instantly, tensing for a half moment when he realized how much he had to be attached to say something like that so fast. He forced himself to relax once again, no point in adding more fuel to the fire of worry that laid between them. "This just makes things complicated."

Oh yeah... complicated, that was one way to put it, definitely. If Macaque was being generous. And ignoring the fact that Mei wasn’t even 4 feet tall... and 4 years old. Physically.

Macaque was supposed to be on official mystic monkey business alone. Or at least that’s what he told Mei and MK to hopefully keep them out of his fur, but apparently Mei had other ideas. Like sneaking onto the private boat he had paid for to be taken to this secluded island far out into the ocean undetected, much farther than Mount Huaguo was. How she managed to sneak past security he may never know, now would he know how she managed to stay hidden for their 7 hour journey, and he would never admit that he was genuinely impressed.

He genuinely had not known she joined him until after the boat left, leaving them both stranded for at least the next 24 hours.

Horray.

Things had actually been going pretty ok, for the most part, after she had made herself known. In actuality Macaque was here to hunt down a specific item of his he had left behind on the island years ago, nothing really world shattering just... important to him. He knew that it would be safe here when he left it, the island as uninhabited and out of the way for humans to come to as it was.

But he also knew many powerful demons occasionally used this island as a hiding ground for when they were injured or planning something, against the owner’s wishes. And unfortunately one such demon just happened to be there on the one day of the while year he planned on coming.

That demon was deader than anything else on this island at the moment. Macaque hadn’t tried to kill him, not really, but they had lobbed something at him that Mei jumped in front of and he reacted on instinct.

If the thing had hit him in the first place they would probably be just fine. A decade and a half off his life span was nothing, unless it was set to a specific age in which... well, he was already able to do most of what he could do as a child so they still probably would have been ok. And hopefully she would be, if his memory served this particular demon was talented only in making temporary cursed and potions... mostly.

He hoped.

“Are you certain using your powers won’t hurt you?” Macaque asked, staring down at the short girl before him.

“I don’t think so?” Mei said with a shrug. “I mean, I’ve kinda had them for as long as I remember so... probably not.”

“Let’s not take that chance,” Macaque said with a sigh, looking around the beach. There was nothing for him to use, no emergency radio or boat. The best they had found on their entire search was a dinky little shelter. “It looks like our best bet would be to hunker down in that building and wait until mid day tomorrow for the boat to return. Provided there aren’t any more demons around we should be fine...”

“I can build a fire!” Mei proclaimed, running off before Macaque could even hope to catch her.

Something pulled in his chest, a protective thrum that he hadn’t felt since... since his journey with MK, but was becoming increasingly common the more time he spent training Mei. And he hadn’t felt that for so long he had forgotten what it felt like when it happened then, so unfamiliar with the desire to protect his old home and monkey friends of Mount Huaguo.

He would never admit even to himself that that feeling was “caring”. At least not yet.

“Jade, get back here!” Macaque yelled, moving to rush off after her before she came barreling back herself with armfuls of sticks and pine cones.

“I got everything we need!” She laughed and threw everything down in front of the building, looking around. “Did you see any rocks?”

“I know how to build a fire,” Macaque said softly, crossing his arms and shaking his head. “We probably don’t even need one.”

“Aw, but this is like a camping trip now!” Mei said, flailing her arms in the direction of the sticks. “I’ve even got marshmallows in my backpack!”

“Why did you bring m-never mind,” Macaque groaned, rubbing his face and sighing deeply. “OK. We’ll build a fire.”

~

It had gone better than hoped, actually. Macaque was able to start the fire with ease and Mei had apparently thought ahead enough that she’s brought the ingredients to make something called s’mores. Macaque had never seen them before, either they were new or they were a foreign treat, but MK had mentioned them to him on their journey and he had to admit... they were nice.

He just wished the gooey marshmallow didn’t stick to his fur so bad.

“And then MK did something that made the clone glow gold and explode into a bazillion pieces of hair!” Mei said, sweeping her arms out as she finisher her story. “And that’s how MK created and saved me from Porty Clone.”

“Sound like MK’s clones had quite the variety to them,” Macaque said with a smile. He’d relaxed over the evening, the normal sounds of the island confirming to him that it was just the two of them now and that at the very least they were safe from attack for the moment. “No wonder he’s careful not to overuse them.”

“Yeah, but Porty was pretty fun until he went overboard,” Mei replied, words cutting off with a yawn and a shiver as the wind picked up. “What time is it?”

Macaque looked up, watching the moon and the stars. “Late enough that it would be best to get some rest. We don’t want to miss the boat after all.”

“Hey, you only paid them half so they better come looking for you if you don’t show up!” She laughed out, making her way into the building as Macaque dumped sand on the fire to douse it. Just in case, don’t need the island catching fire with the wind. “ So uh... what are you going to tell them about... me?”

“That I came here looking for you,” he said plainly, shutting the door behind them. The moonlight shone through the windows of the shelter, giving them just enough light to see the one sad little cot it housed, right next to the massive stock of canned food they had also raided for dinner. He pulled the blanket on the cot back, grimacing at the dust on the blanket but satisfied with the condition of everything under it. He went outside to shake it out and make it usable again. “They know I was looking for something and that’s all they need to know.”

“What were you looking for anyway, Hot Topic?” Mei asked after a moment, watching Macaque make the bed again. “And how do you... know about this place?”

“... it’s mine, actually,” he said quietly, looking around the sad shelter. Unfurnished, cold and empty, with only the island itself and non-perishable food for survival. “I haven’t been back in a long time and most know to stay away, but sometimes demons don’t care. I was looking for something... unimportant.”

“It must have been important if you came all this way to find it,” Mei said, yawning again and rubbing her eyes.

“Ok, that’s enough of that!” Macaque exclaimed, hoping his glamor was hiding the embarrassed flush of his ears at her accusation. “Time for sleep!”

Without giving her a second to protest Macaque grabbed her around the waist with his tail and deposited her under the now clean enough blanket before forcibly tucking her in.

“Hey!” She protested, scowling at him once her arms were free. “I can’t sleep yet!”

“Why not?” Macaque chanced, wondering if he was going to regret this.

“You never told me a story.”

“... huh?”

“At the camp fire!” Mei insisted, leaning over the bed to grab her backpack and hold it to herself like it was a stuffed animal (which wasn’t hard since it was... basically a hollow stuffed dragon anyway). “I told you a bunch of stories about me and MK and Piggy and Tangy and Sandy and you didn’t tell me anything about you and the Monkey King! So spill one, I’m not going to sleep until you do!”

Macaque wanted to say no, wanted to glare at Mei until she just went to sleep through sheer exhaustion, wanted to walk out of the building and just stand guard at the door instead... but he kept looking into her teeny tiny 4 year old glower and he couldn’t help but sigh in defeat.

“Fine...” He said after a moment, moving to sit at the head of the bed. He watched as Mei smiled widely, making herself comfortable. “Let’s see... where should we begin... How about the time Wukong thought it would be a good idea to challenge the whole island to 1 on 1 combat for the title of king because he was bored, long before his proper training?”

“That sounds like him,” Mei said, smiling into her backpack with another yawn as she closed her eyes. “Yeah... tell that one.”

“OK, so this was only a little while after he jumped through the waterfall...”

And Macaque went on and on, giving much more detail than necessary, watching as Mei slowly relaxed until she eventually nodded off before the story even got close to the ending.

Which was... probably good for Macaque, to be honest.

He reached into his pocket, pulling out the item he had come here to find. It was simple, all things considered. A little carved crown, made from wood and preserved carefully through the years, far too small for his head and more of a bracelet. Wukong had made it for him when their own duel, the final one of the whole island, ended in a draw all those centuries ago. A show of how they could, maybe, rule the mountain together one day. He’d left it here so long ago that he worried it would have been destroyed or fallen apart over time.

Apparently Wukong knew a little something about what he was doing back then after all.

Macaque smiled, slipping it back into his pocket as he slid off the bed to sit against it, all six ears fluttering out to listen to the island around them. Just in case.

Mei slept mostly soundly behind him and if she started to whine in the beginnings of a nightmare and he turned around to soothe her and whisper that he was there and she was alright well... that would be something to talk about if she remembered it.

[starilicious]

ishq wala love (echo x gn!reader)

》 summary: reader comforts an insecure echo after the end of tbb episode 4 "cornered" about having mechanical parts as part of his body.

》 word count: ~2.2k

click here to read on AO3

》 warnings: slight sensory overload, mild panic attack (i think it could be classified as relatively vague in regards to the description), insecure echo about his body, a teensy bit of in universe swearing, lots of flufffff and a dash of angst here and there, no use of y/n [if i should add more warnings, please let me know!]

》 spoilers: extremely mild ones from tbb episode 4 "cornered"

》 a/n: hello! this is my first tbb fic, so i really hope i do the show, the characters, and the fandom justice hehe ^_^ over the past few days, i've become obsessed with tbb fics, particularly the echo x reader ones bc my GOODNESS this man is such a soft bean who deserves all the love in the galaxy. as a result, please enjoy this sleep-deprived frenzy of a fic that i wrote at 1 am and let me know your thoughts! :)

》 misc. notes:

• title of the fic is from the hindi song "ishq wala love" from the film student of the year. i've linked the song (in blue) with some pretty good english translations in case you would like to take a listen, but it isn't necessary for the fic–i just thought it fit well!

• i kind of got way too invested in building up the environment at the beginning, so apologies if it seems like a slow start! i just had to indulge in having the other characters there too <3

• please ignore the inaccuracies of the havoc marauder. i don't really know what the ship looks like, especially the living quarters, so i unintentionally ended up using the ghost from swr to guide my writing for that part.

• what the reader says at the end about the word in love in her native language is true. the language i'm referring to here is hindi, and we have several different words for love. in my very humble opinion, i think it’s one of the many characteristics of the language that makes hindi so sweet-sounding and poetic :)

• THANK YOU FOR 100 NOTES OMG AHHH YOU ALL ARE TRULY AMAZING 😭<333 (7/1/2021)

After Tech piloted the Bad Batch away from Pantora and safely entered hyperspace, you all decided to turn in to get some rest–or at least attempt to. With the bounty hunter scare, you and the boys figured it would be best to discuss what to do tomorrow morning, for Omega’s sake.

You tucked Omega in with her doll and offered her a comforting smile. “Don’t worry ‘Meg,” you said softly, running a gentle hand through her cropped blonde hair. “You’ll be safe, I promise. You’re stuck with us for life.”

Omega smiled sleepily at your teasing and held her arms out for a hug, one which you gladly indulge. “Sweet dreams, love,” you murmur as you let go. You shut off the lamp in her makeshift room and closed the curtains as you climbed down the ladder.

You turned around to find Hunter looking at you from his seat in front of the blinking controls. You raised an eyebrow as you plopped down in front of him unceremoniously, the exhaustion of the action-packed day catching up to you.

"You're good with her," he murmured as you both glanced at the light beige divider and you shrugged in response.

"Just looking out for her. Besides, you're not so bad yourself. She mimics your every move," you grinned. Hunter chuckled fondly as he recalled the memory where they were all stuck in the Kaminoan prison cell and Omega copied his every gesture.

The two of you lapsed in a comfortable silence as you mulled over the day's events, the hum of the ship thrumming beneath your feet.

"We'll be okay. It's tiring and difficult and none of us know how to raise a child, but we'll be okay," you said, breaking the quiet with optimism. You placed a hand on Hunter's shoulder and smiled. "Crosshair will be okay too. Have faith."

Hunter sighed but nodded in agreement as he put his hand over yours. "Goodnight," he said as he stood up, stretching his muscles.

"Sleep well."

You sat at the small table for a few more minutes to think before standing up yourself. You quickly checked in on Tech in the cockpit since he was on watch, and he immediately shooed you away, insisting you get some sleep. You had a feeling he only did so to optimize the ship in peace without distractions.

Nevertheless, you obliged and left him alone. Walking to the back of the ship, you completed your rounds. Wrecker was snoring loudly and you stifled a laugh. At least he was sleeping well–it was all you could ask for really. But frankly, you had no idea how Crosshair was ever able to sleep through it. Thinking about him and seeing his empty bunk made your heart pang in loss, but you were as determined as the rest of them to somehow bring him back. You had to.

You opened the door to Hunter and Tech’s shared room to find Hunter already sleeping soundly and you quickly left. With his enhanced senses, he was already a light sleeper, and compounded with his responsibilities as a leader, he rarely got any rest. You worried for him.

Last stop was your and Echo's room. You stepped in to find the light still on. Echo was sitting on the floor in front of your bunk, staring at the ground.

"Hey there handsome," you joked lightly in an attempt to get his attention and mask your unease. Echo usually only came near your bunk when something was wrong and after everything that happened today, it was safe to say you were concerned.

Echo didn't respond. Did he hear me? You make your way over to your lover and sit down in front of him. You place your hands on top of his.

"Echo, honey?" You said softly and finally finally he looked up at you. Your heart dropped into your stomach.

"Oh, darling," you breathed and you moved to his side to envelop him into a hug, his head resting comfortably in the crook of your neck. You didn’t say anything more–you saw the deep pain swirling in his eyes, the grief, the loss. The anger. You let Echo take the lead; you knew how difficult it was to wrangle raging thoughts and muster them into words.

You didn’t know how much time passed of you two sitting on the floor, breathing each other in before Echo spoke.

“Today… when we went on the supply run, I was dressed as a droid.”

You bit your lip, knowing exactly where this was going. But you didn’t interrupt, letting him continue. Your thumb rubbed absentmindedly on his arm as you listened.

“That vendor we were talking to wouldn't take what we had. And then he saw me,” Echo took a deep breath. You stayed quiet, holding his hand in a manner that you hoped soothed his anxieties at least a little bit.

“Hunter sold me as a droid to him. I-I know he doesn’t see me as a droid. I know that. But–” Echo’s voice cracked. He cleared his throat of the emotion building up. Echo didn’t know how to express what he wanted to say. He didn’t even want to speak it aloud–that would make it feel too real. And Echo severely doubted he could handle the heartbreak. Can I do this?

“Cyar’ika,” he murmured and you hummed in response. Echo pulled away from you, his hand still in yours. Now or never. “I need you to be completely, absolutely, 100% honest with me,” he whispered. Echo steeled his expression, doing his best to hide how terrified he truly was.

You nodded because of course you would be. When were you not?

But the way Echo gazed at you threw you off. Something was wrong, very wrong. You were almost scared of what he would say next, but you made a gesture for him to say what was on his mind. Clearly, this was important.

“Do you really want to be with me when I’m just–” Echo struggled with the last few words and you strained to pick them up with how they caught in his throat. “–a pathetic, disgusting, hybrid machine?” It’s out, I said it. I said it. Echo felt like he couldn’t breathe, the pressure on his chest too much, too much. He stared down at the floor, face flooded with shame.

You stared at him in blatant disbelief, eyebrows furrowed and mouth open from a shocked laugh. No no no Echo. You’re nothing of the sort. You didn’t move. Echo’s breath hitched as he looked back up at you, broken and open and raw.

“Don’t lie, please don’t lie to me. I know there's no way you could ever love me when I… when I look like this,” Echo whispered, but he may as well have shouted with the way the blood was rushing through your ears.

And then something in you snapped.

You removed your hands from his and placed them on his cheeks, pulling him in until your foreheads were touching. “Echo, you need to listen to me,” you instructed and heaved a breath as you tried to sort your own rushing thoughts into articulated words. But the effort was futile as your careful speech turned into a haphazard and passionate stream of consciousness.

His eyes glistened with unshed tears and your heart broke into pieces. Echo gave you all of his attention. What are you going to say? He didn’t want you to agree, but he would understand if you did. Echo felt disgusted with himself. The walls were closing in on him. Breathing was getting harder.

“You are the best damn thing that has ever happened to me. I don’t give one flying banthashit about any of your mechanical parts. If anyone ever says anything about them, they’re di’kuts and you can send them my way because I will not hesitate to punch some sense into them,” you spat with pure determination, not even noticing the Mando’a slip. After being surrounded by clones for so long, you absorbed bits and pieces of the language. You didn’t even register how Echo picked up on the word, much too focused on getting your point across. You were a person on a mission and nothing would stand in your way.

The knot in Echo’s stomach was loosening a bit, the storm in his mind beginning to break. The walls were a bit farther from him. He wasn’t drowning in his own presence anymore.

“Because you know what? You’re still my Echo. You’re a man, my dear. Not a machine. You never were, and never will be. These parts?” you gestured to his scomp link, his legs, the cybernetic implant in his head. “They mean nothing. Absolutely nothing. Don’t focus on them.”

You smiled sadly as you rubbed your thumbs gently on his cheeks. “I fell in love with you, Echo, not your body. I love the way you make me laugh, the way you comfort me, the way you cry with me. As much as I kriffing hate that you have been through so much pain because of those damned Separatists, I’m grateful for the fact that I’m in love with a man who would do anything for his family, for his brothers.”

A tear slipped down your cheek as you remembered Fives coming back home from the Citadel but no Echo in sight. You would never admit it to anyone, but you swore a piece of you had died that day.

Echo felt like he was going to cry. The pressure that had been building up in his chest was releasing. He could breathe again, slowly, slowly. His only focus was you, was your words. The artificial lights didn’t seem to be as glaring now. They were softer, calmer.

“Echo, my love, even through it all, you not only survived, but you came out on top, victorious,” you paused, briefly overcome with how much love and gratitude you had for this wonderful man. “You came back to me, Echo, and you’re as handsome as ever. I have never stopped loving you, and never will. Don’t you ever forget that darling.”

Echo drew in a shaky breath. The harsh cold of the floor grates was biting into his skin, but he didn’t care. It grounded him as much as your warm touch on his face. He could breathe again. My cyar’ika.

Your fiery and passionate emotional speech came to an end as you stared into your lover’s eyes. There was so much more you could say, but you feared words would not be able to convey it all. You hoped your eyes would be enough to soothe his pained and tired soul.

Silent tears trailed down Echo’s face and you gently brushed them away as you pulled him into a tight hug. It was all you could do to not cry yourself. Echo was always so strong–you admired him for it.

“Thank you,” he whispered, voice thick with appreciation and love. You didn’t say anything. There was no need to. The charged air between you both was enough. The two of you sat in a comfortable silence on the floor of the Havoc Marauder, deep in your own thoughts.

“Ishq wala love,” you muttered fondly after some time, still caught up in your own mind.

“Hm?” Echo questioned, curious as to what you said. The soft sound gently pulled you out of the clouds and back to the man in your arms as you attempted to explain.

“There’s a phrase in my native language, ishq wala love. You see, in Basic, there’s just one word for love, which is love. But back home, we have several different words for love, each with their own subtle, but distinct meaning,” you blew out a breath as you tried to figure out what to say. Echo was hanging on to your every word.

“There’s… there isn’t really a direct translation, but the best I can come up with is that the love that we have, ishq, is much deeper than just romantic love. It’s deep and strong and pure and unyielding. It–it reminded me of us,” you admitted, a bit sheepish. Your fingers dance along Echo’s scomp link, nervous.

Echo took a moment to process your explanation before smiling. You felt your heart stitch itself back together again after seeing that beautiful smile. You would do anything to keep it on his lovely face.

“Ishq wala love,” he echoed, his pronunciation a bit off. You giggled in response. “Close enough,” you teased and Echo simply beamed. You leaned in and planted a chaste kiss on his soft lips, rubbing his metal arm gently.

Echo stood up then, offering a hand to you to help you up. You took it and he led you over to the bunk you shared together. You both quickly climbed in, relaxing in the warmth of the well worn blankets and the other’s presence.

Your head was near his chest and you could hear the soothing dull sound of his steady heartbeat. Your arm curled over his waist protectively and your head rested comfortably on his flesh arm. Echo shut off the light and you were ensconced in black velvety darkness.

“Goodnight, cyar’ika.”

“Sweet dreams, Echo. I’ll be here, waiting for you.”

please consider reblogging! it really helps me and is super encouraging ^_^