#comfort clone 🫶

[caramelcorgi]

Rexpressions

[faiszt]

. 𝆬 ⠀ ི᭨ᩧྀ⠀.⠀⠀ faiszt’s ε( ε ´O`)э。゜ BOT! dump⠀⠀❜❜

꒰ ︎ ♡ ︎ ´ ꒳ ` ꒱ ︎ ᐟ⠀⠀⎯⎯ ⠀⠀NOTES.⠀⠀💬⠀⠀first of all: hi, babies! merry christmas and an early happy new year, i'm not sure if i'll be back here with more bots until the new year, so this is probably the last release of 2024, anyway, thank you so much for being with me this long year, i love you all!!! ~ 🫶🏻

▸⠀CHALLENGERS⠀*⠀˖⠀🎾

𝅭⠀innocent jealousy⠀.⠀art donaldson⠀૮⠀you weren't seeing yourself as selfish or trying to soothe your ego, what was that other than innocent jealousy? what happened in atlanta, won't stay in atlanta, whether patrick likes it or not, you will tell art.⠀♡ gender neutral!

𝅭⠀girl-dad period⠀.⠀patrick zweig⠀૮⠀anyone who knew him a few years ago would probably think that they had created an identical and more responsible clone of him, the truth was that he changed a lot, yes, he changed for the sake of his little and beloved family.⠀♡ female user!

▸⠀DCU⠀*⠀˖⠀💥

𝅭⠀cookies 'n christmas⠀.⠀clark kent⠀૮⠀there were many things to see in metropolis, they just didn't tell you the part where the most beloved superhero on earth would end up falling in love with you. back in smallville, clark now had the titles of your husband, farmer, earth's most beloved hero, and your christmas cookie eater—you just know that the last one is his favorite.⠀♡ gender neutral!

𝅭⠀nerdy-coffee mornings⠀.⠀clark kent⠀૮⠀every morning was the same, you always ended up bringing coffee to his desk and being thanked with an awkward smile when he didn't know what to say first thing in the morning—but, this time he had a small plan on his mind to not be a stupid weirdo right in front of you.⠀♡ gender neutral!

▸⠀WIZARDING WORLD⠀*⠀˖⠀🪄

𝅭⠀warning signs⠀.⠀regulus black⠀૮⠀he was deceived by the ideals of his own leader, the one he admired and wanted to follow, however judged he was—his mission changed course, to destroy the horcrux, to destroy that damned piece of the dark lord's soul. you were in his way and he'd get you out, without mercy.⠀♡ gender neutral!

𝅭⠀herbology matters⠀.⠀severus snape⠀૮⠀amidst the chaos of his mind and the pain in his core since last year, when lily evans was gone, the tragic and bitter severus snape was trying to stop his mind from racing, but how could he do something when the new herbology master makes him think about so much?⠀♡ gender neutral!

𝅭⠀12 grimmauld place⠀.⠀sirius black⠀૮⠀returning home was something that young sirius would never think of doing, he wasn't welcome there and wouldn't feel ever comfortable there even if they ripped out his brain and put another one in its place—but, not even when he was at hogwarts could he deny the surname they gave him, not when you shared it with him.⠀♡ gender neutral!

ꜜ⠀ small note:⠀i know that snape isn't severus prince snape, his mother's surname was only included because c.ai recognizes it and wouldn't let me even publish the bot with his real name without getting banned, that's the reason.⠀❜❜

⠀

[ushouldwatchhaikyuu]

Could you make headcanons abt a confident!chubby!poc!reader. Like when i search up haikyui x chubby reader all i get are hurt comfort stories about being insecure, and like everyone gets insecure but it gets to the point where people think everyone who isnt built like a coke bottle hates themselves 🙄. AND DONT GET ME STARTED ON THE ONES MADE FOR POC!!! Cause why are they all so stereotypical?! Like just because im black doesn’t mean im sexy redds clone😭🙏🏽.

Anyways back to the main plot🤭. I was thinking like reader with a style that has y2k/mcbling aspects (lowrise jeans, crop tops, chunky jewlery, etc) and is super bubbly. And back to he chubby thing, like ok. When i read x chubby readers, its always like fat ass and a lil bit of tummy, which is fine cause some people are built like that but not a lot🧍🏽‍♀️🧍🏽‍♀️. Like i have thighs, big boobs(pray for my spine🫡🙏🏽😭) and tummy, but I also have hipdips that dig into my butt bro. So like yea🧍🏽‍♀️. Haikyuu headcanons (you can pick the characters you think will fit🫶🏽) x confident!chubby!poc! reader

(i apologize for the yap session i have lots of opinions on this topic)

Chubby!POC!Reader x Haikyuu Headcanons

ft: literally like half the team members of all the main teams

warnings: cussing

oh pal dw about it lmfao i get what u mean!! i hope these hcs satiate ur cravings 👍

since u didn't ask for any specific characters i just came up with a few hcs that i think could apply to multiple characters lol

credits: divider .

He lowkey likes it when people look at his partner and assume he can't carry them, but then he just goes "oh yeah? lemme just-" *picks u up and puts u on his shoulder without a single hint of struggling* 👍

Ushijima, Bokuto, Kuroo, Atsumu, Sakusa, Iwaizumi (but he wouldn't say it outloud lmao).

Can't pick you up? No problem, they wanna be the ones getting picked up anyways.

Yachi, Yamaguchi, Kenma, Tendou (u cant convince me he doesnt like getting picked up)

Can't pick you up? unacceptable. They're begging your forgiveness and spending hours at the gym until they can do it. Just give them a few months.

Nishinoya, Hinata, Hoshiumi, Kageyama, Terushima, Levi.

Became an absolute pro at finding your exact foundation shade. Like, has your exact match pinned down. Could just look at a foundation color and go "yeah that's their shade". Some may think it's a bit weird, but honestly it's so helpful sometimes.

Ushijima's autistic ass, Tsukishima, Sugawara, Asahi, Yachi, Sakusa and Osamu maybe?

Gets so excited over fashion, makeup, jewelry and all that stuff. Goes shopping/thrifting with you, pays for your nails and is very enthusiastic whenever you ask for their opinion on your outfits. Also lets you give them makeovers sometimes. They will absolutely serve cunt if you ask them to.

Hinata, Nishinoya, Atsumu, Yamaguchi, Tendou, Kuroo, Bokuto, Oikawa, Yachi, maybe Levi lmao. Hot take but Ushijima would absolutely do it too.

Does encourage your passions and interest and stuff but their sense of fashion is that of a rock. If rocks wore crocs with socks. Still go shopping with u tho and they make up for their lack of advice by paying for all ur stuff. They spoil u so fricking much.

Tsukishima, Kageyama, Akaashi, Iwaizumi, Suna, Daichi, Sakusa, Ennoshita, Kenma.

Paints/writes/does photography and will make the most beautiful jaw dropping mouth watering gorgeous absolutely stunning works of art portraying you in such a beautifully realistic way. They get your colors and shapes and curves so perfectly well, it's incredible– it shows just how much attention they pay to every little detail about you, and how much they love all of it.

Daichi, Asahi, Ushijima, Osamu, Ennoshita, Sakusa, Yamaguchi, Yachi, maybe Kageyama.

[thelazybard]

idk if you do modern AU, but it could be really cool like a modern au of the clones from Bad Batch + rex and cody in like university. what would they study, what hobbies, what would they wear! idk

or maybe like in the y/n s/o perspective how they would help them study through finals and midterms?

love ur writing 🫶🫶🫶

I love university AUs sm ughh

Modern!The Bad Batch +Rex +Cody x GN!Reader: The boys as university students

Rex:

Style: Athleisure for sure. Something presentable enough to attend class in but also hit up the gym in after. The same sneakers almost every day, and his gold chain.

Major: Philosophy

Study dates: In his dorm when Cody is out. You both fit into his twin bunk and quiz each other with flash cards.

Cody:

Style: Done up, slacks and a sweater every day for sure. I imagine him in brown loafers and gold jewelry.

Major: Engineering

Study dates: Out at a cafe with free wifi. He prefers outdoor seating so the two of you can have a bit more privacy while also enjoying nature, but he won't subject you to that in the winter. You doublecheck his math for him and quiz him on the different formulas he's got to memorize.

Hunter:

Style: Jeans, boots, and a graphic tee of some sort. A denim or leather jacket in the winter.

Major: Forestry/Environmental Science

Study date: Outdoors at campus, usually under a tree the two of you can lean back on. He brings snacks and a blanket each time, and the two of you study for your respective midterms in a comfortable silence until you fall asleep on his shoulder.

Echo:

Style: Similar to Rex's. Athleisure, but more boyish. Graphic tees of his favorite show and Nike sweatshorts.

Major: Biomedical engineering

Study dates: At your dorm because Fives always has a girl over. He tries to focus on studying but ends up getting distracted by the various doodads around your room, which results in you getting the great idea of holding him down and doing your skincare routine on him. No studying gets done.

Wrecker:

Style: He's the guy that wears shorts whether it's warm or not. A black pullover hoodie is a closet staple. (He let's girls borrow it so be ready to argue about that). Socks and sandals 100%.

Major: Sport's Medicine or Physics.

Study dates: In his dorm. He sits at his desk with you in his lap and you make him create/study quizlets. He takes breaks frequently to snuggle and kiss you.

Tech:

Style: Slacks, polo and blazer. Thinks you need to look your best to do your best. Him and Wrecker fuss over each other's styles constantly.

Major: Double majoring in Aerospace Engineering and Computer Science.

Study dates: In the STEM building in one of the many study spaces. He says what he's learned out loud to you to better adhere it in his noggin. He takes you out to ice cream after to make up for the lack of romance during the actual study part.

Crosshair:

Style: Dark academia on days he has a presentation. Rest of the time? Sweatpants and a black shirt. Something he can jump right back into bed in.

Major: I'm sorry but he's so a business major. Actually I'm not sorry.

"Study" dates: You go to his dorm and make out while a business textbook is open nearby. Studying!!

[staarriezz]

hello :D

i have a request for a dottore x reader fluff/angst, i hope the idea sounds interesting 😅

what if the reader suddenly finds dottore in a horrible mood, except he’s not angry or anything, just really down :(

and the reader tries their best to comfort him but he just won’t verbally respond to them until the reader says something that really hits his heart, then he actually starts opening up 💜

i really like this concept bc there’s not enough people who write abt dottore being upset or sad, maybe bc it conflicts with his character a lot but i feel like he has so much emotional baggage throughout the years. it has to catch up to him eventually 😥

thank you 🫶

HAII FIRST REQUESTS EVER! yes of course i can give you some dottie angst… i lov him so much

dottore x reader — cracks in the mask

pairing: dottore x reader

genre: fluff/angst

warnings: none

word count: ~1.2k

the laboratory was unnervingly quiet that evening.

typically, there was always something to fill the silence— the hum of his machinery, the scratch of a pen, any of the clones babbling on about their experiments. however today, the near silence was suffocating.

at the center of it was dottore.

you found him at his desk, unmoving, hunched forward with one gloved hand resting against his temple. his bird-like mask sat to the side, revealing his sharp features, usually so animated with concentration or delight, now replaced with something disturbingly close to exhaustion.

that alone was enough to make your stomach twist.

“dottore?” you approached carefully, unsure of what state he was in. he was an unpredictable man— one wrong move could easily cause him to have an outburst. “i brought you something to eat. you haven’t left your lab all day.”

silence.

you stepped closer, setting a plate of fatteh down on the desk beside a stack of notes. he didn’t even glance at it. his sharp crimson eyes were unfocused, staring blankly at the paper before him, though it was clear he wasn’t really seeing it— he was looking past it.

that was when you noticed how tense he was—his fingers curled slightly as if suppressing a twitch, his breaths slow but shallow.

something was wrong.

“…did something happen?” you asked softly.

still, no response.

your concern deepened. dottore was never quiet. he always had something to say, whether it was mocking, taunting, or spiraling into a monologue about his latest discoveries or newfound interest. but now, he seemed to be locked in some internal battle, his usual arrogance stripped away.

you reached out, hesitating for only a moment before placing your hand over his gloved one. “zandik,” you said softly, calling him by his real name— the name he let only you use.

that finally got a reaction, though it was slight. his fingers just barely twitched beneath yours, but he still didn’t look at you.

you swallowed. “please… please talk to me.”

not a word.

worry twisted into frustration. you had seen dottore in many different states— enraged, ecstatic, amused, even mildly— mildly tender. but this was different. this didn’t just seem like the aftermath of an experiment failure, or a setback in his research. this was heaviness. a weight pressing him down, pushing him into something that even his fiery ambition couldn’t pull him out of.

and you didn’t know how to fix it.

“i hate seeing you like this,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “i know you don’t like talking about things that bother you. i know you think it’s weak or useless. but you’re human, zandik. no matter how much you pretend you aren’t. you’re not one of your machines,”

a flicker of something subtle crossed his face.

more desperate for anything, you continued. “you carry so much. too much. and i know you— if something is weighing on you this badly, it’s not just some minor inconvenience. so please, just—” you exhaled shakily, trying to calm yourself. “just let me in.”

for a moment, you thought he wouldn’t answer.

then, finally, quietly— so quietly you almost missed it— he spoke.

“…do you ever wonder,” he started, his voice hardly above a mumble, “if everything you’ve done has been worth it?”

the question caught you off guard.

your fingers tightened slightly around his, his words making your heart ache. “what do you mean?”

he took a slow breath, his hand shifted beneath yours, but didn’t pull away. “i have spent my entire life pursuing knowledge. progress. evolution. a way to enhance the human race. i have been chased out of my home town, and expelled from the akademiya. i have torn apart the weak, the feeble-minded, and discarded the useless in the name of something greater. my vision of the future.” His voice remained eerily calm, but there was something brittle beneath it.

his gaze finally lifted to meet yours. “…but does any of it matter?”

you sucked in a breath.

dottore was not a man who dealt with regrets. he prided himself on his ambition, his dedication, his refusal to be weighed down by something as trivial as morality. but there was something deeply, achingly tired in his eyes now— an exhaustion that went beyond sleepless nights and endless research.

this was the weight of years. of choices made and paths walked that could never be undone.

your heart ached for him, your stomach twisting.

“you’ve given up so much,” you said carefully, “but that doesn’t mean it was all for nothing.”

he let out a quiet, humorless chuckle. “hasn’t it?”

“no.” You squeezed his hand. “because if it were, you wouldn’t be questioning it now.”

that seemed to strike something in him. his lips parted slightly, as if to argue, but no words came. he simply looked at you, unguarded, disturbed in a way he rarely allowed himself to be.

you continued, voice gentler now. “you always act like you don’t care. as if the past doesn’t affect you. but you do care, zandik. maybe not in the way others do, but you wouldn’t be asking this if you didn’t.”

his fingers curled around yours, grip tightening ever so slightly.

the silence stretched between you, but this time, it wasn’t cold or distant. It was understanding.

“…you are a curious creature,” he finally muttered, shaking his head. “always saying things that even i cannot refute.”

you smiled faintly. “because i know you better than you’d like to admit.”

his hard gaze softened just a fraction. then, to your quiet relief, he exhaled— long and slow, as if finally releasing some of the weight crushing his chest.

“…stay,” he murmured. it wasn’t as harsh as a command, nor was it his usual smug expectation that you would obey him without question. it was something much quieter. much more vulnerable.

a request.

you lifted his hand to your lips, pressing a kiss to his knuckles. “always.”

and for the first time that night, dottore let himself relax.

[motherroam-rs]

Wrap Me in Your Skin and Bones

NSFW - 18+

Warnings/Tags : Cockwarming, Nightmares, Mentions of Trauma and PTSD, Angst, Comfort, Love Confessions

Relationship: Crosshair/Fem!Reader

Summary: After solitary confinement on Mount Tantiss, Crosshair is plagued by nightmares that lead him to seek comfort in your body.

A/N : Wrote and posted this to AO3 before season 3 but wanted to put it here too 🫡 I just had this angsty lil thing in my head about how a touch starved Cross would deal with physical contact after the empire 🫶 (even though I firmly believe Tech survived the fall - he’s dead for the purpose of this I’m SORRY)

NSFW BELOW THE CUT

The sharp hit to your ribs has you springing into a sitting position, eyes wild and scanning the room for a threat. Muscle memory from years in the war has you reaching for the blaster and pointing it towards various shadows in the room.

You would be a lousy shot with the way your hand shook from the adrenaline in your veins. But, there are no imperial agents hiding in your room, no battle droids under your bed, the source of the attack lays next to you, writhing against imaginary forces in his nightmare.

Crosshair.

Abandoning the blaster on the floor, you work on tearing the bedsheets away from him before he can tangle himself any further in the restrictive fabric. Every muscle in his body seems to be rigid, even once you manage to free him, but he still thrashes, as if fighting against invisible restraints.

The sight of his struggle has your stomach forming knots.

“Crosshair, wake up,” your pleading hands press to his shoulder, thankful that the prominence of his collarbones has eased over the last few weeks, but he’s still nowhere close to as healthy he was the last time you saw him before the war had ended.

Unlike the rest of the batch, you hadn’t seen Crosshair during his time under the empire, and although during his absence you were thankful for it, this only made it worse the day his brothers brought him home.

Crosshair had always been the leanest of them, you had even joked with him on several occasions that he resembled the toothpicks which always hung from his lips, but the breath had been stolen from your body when Echo half-carried him down the walkway. Crosshairs face was almost as hollow as Echo’s had been after Skako Minor, and it was now flecked in silver stubble, with a large scar that stretched across the side of his head where patches of hair were entirely missing.

Just as the pair passed you by, Crosshairs eyes had met your own. You were used to a range of emotions in them, from heated glares and desire filled gazes, occasionally there was even an amused look that framed his eyes with a hint of laughter lines. However, what you didn’t prepare yourself for was for them to be entirely void of any emotion, it was if you were just one of the stone pillars that lined the streets.

After a week in the infirmary, it became evident that Crosshair couldn’t sleep alone. With Hunter preoccupied with Omega, the responsibility fell to Echo the first few nights, he was the closest to understanding Crosshairs situation after all.

On the third day after the rescue, Hunter had told you although Omega was kept somewhat safe with another female clone, they had found Crosshair in solitary confinement. Something deep in your chest broke at the unsaid weight of the information. Despite his aversion to most people, Crosshair had spent years of being in tight living spaces with his brothers, only to be thrown in a cell alone for maker knows how long.

Maybe this was why he gravitated towards you once he was finally in good enough physical condition to be released from the infirmary.

Between Echo’s own complicated relationship with sleep, Wrecker’s inability to not snore and wake everyone in the immediate vicinity, and Hunters responsibility for Omega, it was you who took him in.

If Tech was still here, he would have been the one to stay with Crosshair. You push that thought down, but the pain still resonates in your chest.

You give Crosshair another shake, and the second your other hand presses to the bare skin of his face, his eyes snap open. He lashes out like a snarling animal trapped in a snare, gripping both your wrists and pinning you beneath him with a speed that causes the room to spin around you.

“It’s just me, Cross.” You speak in a hushed tone, attempting to calm him as you fight against his grip.

Reality bleeds into his eyes, momentarily easing his pained expression, but then he’s choking on the air, collapsing onto you.

“I need,” although his face is buried in your neck, you hear the emotion crack his voice, and you already know the broken look that on his face. “Please, I need you.”

“It’s okay, Cross.” You nod and widen your legs, allowing his hips to settle between them. Your bodies act on the familiar routine you had both fallen into over the last few months since he moved into your spare room - which he has still never spent a night in. Crosshairs shakes have already begun to ease with the contact, his hands have at least stilled enough so he can effectively rid you both of the few items of clothing until you were bare against each other.

He coils himself around you at first, as if he were a snake trying to suffocate its prey, but you only wrap your arms around him in return, welcoming his touch. You aren’t certain if it’s the solitary confinement that made him need the contact, or if it’s some lingering effect of the chip, but either way you still offer yourself to him.

Seemingly unable to wait for his heart to settle, he chases the comfort only you can provide, and begins the slow push of himself inside you. Crosshair’s breaths are escaping him in desperate pants and he’s pressing as much of himself to you as possible, seeking the warmth of your body to drive away the sensation of the cold interrogation table that plagued his mind.

The stretch burns with the little preparation you have, and Crosshair senses your silent discomfort. He draws his hips back with a mumbled apology, so only the tip remains inside you, and draws slow circles on your clit with his thumb. It doesn’t take long for the resistance to ease with your wetness, and soon enough he’s rocking back into you with a groan, allowing you time to adjust.

He doesn’t attempt to bring you to the precipice, or anywhere close to it. Once he fully settles into you, his hand withdraws and instead tangles itself in your hair.

Right now Crosshairs need for you isn’t sexual, despite what it seems.

Some nights it will delve into more once his body relaxes, and he’ll take his time to have you come undone beneath him with more care and attention than he had ever possessed before the rise of the empire. But tonight, as he does most nights, he stills once fully seathed inside you, his only desire being your embrace.

“Where was it this time?” Sometimes he would answer, but other times he would give a slight shake to his head in response.

“Barton-4, then the interrogation room.” His voice is strained, and you recall everything he’s already told you about these places, specifically the haunting memory of Mayday’s death.

“You’re safe, we’re both safe, Crosshair.” You press a kiss to his temple as if it would help the promise sink into his mind. One of your hands moves to the back of his head, cradling him against your neck as the other traces patterns on his back.

It takes a few minutes of silence for his breathing to fall in sync with yours, and despite his cock being inside you, the light exhale against your neck has your face heating at the intimacy. His shakes have entirely ceased now, and you think he’s fallen asleep, until you hear the broken whisper.

“I love you.”

Your body freezes at the admission, both hands stopping their comforting movements. His throat bobs against your neck with a dry swallow, and you wonder if it’s his body trying to subconsciously take back the words.

You had been somewhat together during the clone wars, but it was never emotionally intimate. He had a physical need for you in a way that led to fucking you from behind against almost every surface on the marauder. And yet, true to his cold nature he never faced you, or even kissed you. Once he finished, he would neaten his armour and leave without a goodbye, yet you would still allow him back every time he gave the word.

“Crosshair-“ you start, but he’s cutting you off before your mouth can form another syllable.

“I know it’s not the right time to say it, but I do, I always have.” He rasps, trying to force the confession out in one breath, as if ripping the bacta patch off a wound.

Always have?

Your mind begins unravelling years of your self-imposed torture during the clone wars from biting down your feelings, pretending not to care when some pretty girl inevitably threw herself at him in a bar.

“You need to sleep.” He bites out, hurt evident in his tone at your lack of response, but he doesn’t dare peel himself away from you. Despite the hurt seeping into him, he’s too selfish to let you go unless you ask him to leave.

“Crosshair.” There’s no response, but something possesses you to reach out anyways, and you’re pressing your hand to his face, craning your neck to meet his stare. His eyes are open, but still avoid your own.

Your brush your nose against his, and your thumb traces over the sharp angle of his jaw, memorising the way he ever-so-slightly leans into your touch.

“I love you too.”

His eyes close, a shaky breath of relief escaping his lips. Crosshair had never needed a helmet to mask his emotions before his brothers brought him back to Pabu, back to you. His face had always been set in an ever cold smirk, whether it be when he was taunting a reg, on a stealth mission, or when you caught glimpses of him in mirrored surfaces in the marauder as he fucked himself into you. However, at your words, something akin to peace washes over his face, allowing it to morph into a rare expression of something softer, like that of a soldier returning from battle finally setting eyes on his home.

When the morning comes, you half expect the bed to be cold, or at least as cold as it can be in the climate of Pabu, but when the midday sun casts its warming rays over your skin, he’s still inside of you. Slender limbs have tangled with your own and his face is nestled against your neck, but you can tell from his breathing that he’s already awake.

“Stay.” It’s a whispered prayer against your skin, a desperate plea to some deity that seems to have abandoned him long ago in that cell on Mount Tantiss. But you don’t think the gods, the Empire or even the force could keep you apart now, and you don’t want them to. You press your forehead to his, a wordless answer to him that you aren’t going anywhere, that he’ll never have to be alone again.

[theemporium]

soft Steve blurbs!!!☺️ would you mind writing a small blurb of Steve the night after taking readers virginity. If you mind, would it possible for their to be no smut just the morning after full of fluffiness and Steve making sure readers was okay with the experience and comfortable? ily<3

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

.

The first thought in Steve’s head when he woke up the next morning was, why the fuck did I not close the curtains last night?

The second thought was that there was a warmth pressed against his side, and he found that he didn’t mind it all that much.

He slowly blinked his eyes open, wincing a little at the bright sun shining through the window before his gaze shifted down to his chest—down to you.

You were sprawled over him, one leg thrown over his and your arms wrapped around his torso. Your cheek was pressed against his bare chest, and your lips were parted slightly as you slept. Your hair was messy—Steve made a mental note to buy some hair ties for his place so you’d have them when you stayed over—and your cheeks were slightly flushed.

You looked so fucking beautiful, it made his head spin and his breathing a little funny, but he wouldn’t change it for the world.

“You’re staring.”

He raised his brows, almost surprised that you were awake already. “Am I not allowed to stare?”

Your lips twitched. “Creep.”

His face split into a grin. “Your creep.”

You snorted, the sound was bashful but uncaring. “That’s not romantic at all, Harrington.”

“You still laughed,” he countered before he leaned down to catch your lips in a kiss, ignoring your mumbled complaints about morning breath. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine, Steve.”

His eyes narrowed slightly. “You sure? You’re not just saying that to make me feel better? Because—”

“Steve,” you called out, lifting your head so your chin was propped onto his chest. Your face softened slightly when you saw the concern on his face. “I’m fine. I promise. You were perfect.”

His fingers lightly traced along your cheekbone and down your jaw before he tucked some hair behind your ear. His hand cupped the back of your head before leaning down to kiss you again.

“I just don’t want you to regret it,” he admitted, almost shyly.

You gave him a soft smile. “I’d never regret anything with you, Steve Harrington.”

His cheeks flushed at your words, but it didn’t stop his grin from widening.

“But,” you started. “I wouldn’t say no to some breakfast.”

He playfully rolled his eyes, enjoying the way you shrieked as he pulled the duvet off both of you. “I’ll make you my famous pancakes,” he said. “After a shower.”

You raised your brows. “Gonna invite me, Harrington?”

He copied your expression. “You wanna come?”

“If the answer is ever no, I clearly have been replaced with a clone.”

Steve only snorted in response.

.

[uchihaharlot]

Which Uchihs do you think would be interested in a women with 'tits so big they have been rumored to have killed several people with them'? Asking for a friend.

😂😂😂

NONNY! Ily 🫶

NSFW; short head cannons.

Definitely Madara. He would absolutely want to ‘employ’ you for a test run. Which sounds more transactional than you’d like; but I mean…if you get to crush his cock like a beer can, and at his request. Could you really complain if he actually did pay you?

Obito is fearful. Sincerely avoids your wandering gaze to his crotch, and swiftly maneuvers from your clutches using Kamui. Ain’t no way in hell he is going to ‘fuck around and find out.’ He prefers thighs over breasts anyways. Weird.

Shisui. 🥹 Will ask you to suffocate him until his eyes roll shut and he cums hard from air deprivation. He’s into that kinky femdom shit. Anything to make him feel alive.

Itachi. Says he’s into it; but immediately gets scared and traps you into Tsukuyomi where he can manipulate and control the space for comfort. He’s quite intrigued by the idea that your breasts have killed many a man; but he will not fall victim to them. Instead will fuck your tits until his hot seed spurts on your face as you groan around his clones cock.

😍🫶

[ghostofskywalker]

Hello :D

Can I please request prompts "Your flirting skills need work" and "youre an idiot" with the loml echo??? If you only want one prompt(I looked all over and couldn't find anything specifying (though I do have a track record of not seeing things right in front of me)) then just the first prompt is perfectly fine to me!

Thank you and I enjoy your writing very much🫶

hi omg i'm so sorry for this taking so long i was sick and then starting to get better and then last week my body decided it wasn't done being sick, so it's been a little slow going for me :( i really hope you enjoy this though, i tried to get both prompts in there but i think i only succeeded with the first one unfortunately :/

A Little Encouragement

words: 1,128

summary: Echo keeps glancing over at the bartender one night when the Batch is out at 79's. When his new squad finds out why, they offer some much-needed support and reassurance.

clone troopers masterlist || request a clone-uary fic!

Hunter watched from his seat at the table as Echo’s eyes flitted back and forth across the room, noting in his mind how they always returned to one specific spot. The newest member of the squad was quiet as Wrecker and Crosshair bickered about who had the highest kill count on their recent mission while Tech tapped away on his datapad (despite the fact that they were sitting in 79’s). But he had only been traveling with the Bad Batch for a few months now, and Hunter could see that there were still a few things he was getting used to, and a few things that he wasn’t too comfortable sharing with the rest of them just yet. 

Fortunately (for Hunter at least), Echo was terrible at hiding his crush on the bartender, even if he thought otherwise. 

“Everything okay?” 

Echo’s head jerked at the sound, clearly having not expected anyone to say anything to him. His hand moved as well, and he knocked over the glass in front of him with his scomp before he could catch it with his hand. Thankfully, there wasn’t any liquid left in it and the glass didn’t break, but the sound of drinkware hitting the table got the attention of the others. “Sorry,” Echo said. “You startled me.” 

“Daydreaming?” Hunter asked with a smile, resisting the urge to look over at where he knew you were standing as you mixed drinks for the patrons waiting at the bar. “Or do we need to have your head checked again?” 

Echo rolled his eyes at the jab, but from the expression on his face, he didn’t take any offense. “I’m just a little tired,” he said, quickly glancing in your direction before meeting his brothers’ eyes. 

“Do you want another drink?” Tech asked, having finally looked up from his datapad. “You keep looking over at the bar.” 

Hunter smirked. “I think we all should get another round, but I think Echo’s gazing has more to do with a crush on the bartender than it does with an empty glass in front of him.” 

Echo’s mouth dropped open as he registered his brother’s words. “I do not gaze!” 

It was at this point that Crosshair entered the conversation. “That was the part you have an issue with?” 

“What?” 

“You didn’t care that Hunter just said you have a crush on the bartender, so is it true?” 

Echo paused for a moment before speaking. “Yeah, I guess,” he said. “We were supposed to go out one night, before all this happened to me.” He waved the scomp link attached to his arm, a somber expression on his face. 

Hunter had to stop his mouth from dropping open at the revelation. “Really?” 

Echo nodded. “Yeah. We always flirted a little before, and Fives pushed me to actually do something about it one night when we were here with the rest of the 501st. We were going to have dinner together after I got back on the next shore leave, but we left on the mission to the Citadel barely two rotations later. And well, you all know what happened from there.” 

“Have you seen her since then?” Wrecker asked, and everyone else at the table leaned in slightly to hear the answer. 

“No.” 

Tech was the next one to pose a question. “Does she know you’re alive?” 

“No.” 

“You didn’t speak to her tonight?”

Echo shook his head. “Crosshair was the one who ordered the drinks, and a serving droid brought them over to us.”

“You should go over and talk to her!” Wrecker boomed, laughing brightly as he clapped a large hand on Echo’s shoulder. 

Hunter watched as Echo’s eyes shifted and a somber expression overtook his face. “What would I even say? Hi, I’m not dead, do you still remember me and do you want to go out on a date?” 

As Hunter tried to think about what he could say in response to that, it became obvious that Crosshair didn’t seem to take the same approach as he would have. “Okay, maybe you wait and talk to her next time. Your flirting skills need some serious work, I think they might have been programmed out of you.” 

Hunter reflexively elbowed his brother. “What he’s trying to say is, you don’t have to be nervous or expect anything to come from just saying hello. You can simply go up to her, re-introduce yourself, and let the conversation go from there. You don’t know what she’s feeling, but I’m sure she would want to know that you’re alive. You don’t have to mention picking up where you left off if you don’t want to, and if she does, I’m sure she would appreciate honesty more than you forcing yourself to do something you’re not ready for.” 

Echo paused for a moment as he considered his brother’s words. “You’re right,” he said with a nod, eventually getting up from the booth. “I’m going to talk to her.” 

Shouts of glee echoed around the space as the rest of the Batch smiled and cheered. Echo’s face seemed a little more relaxed than it had been all night, and he even playfully rolled his eyes at Crosshair when it was suggested that he get them another round while he was up at the bar. 

As Echo moved towards where you were standing, everyone else at the table made no attempts to hide the fact that they were watching everything go down. Hunter really hoped that things went well between you and Echo, because he couldn’t imagine how embarrassing it might feel to return to the table if you didn’t remember him, or worse, if you didn’t want to speak to him. 

From the way he spoke about you before, Hunter doubted the latter would come to pass, a belief that was (thankfully) reinforced as he watched you sprint from around the back of the bar to envelop Echo in a tight hug. He took a moment to return it, but Hunter could see the smile on his face from all the way across the room. 

“Alright, we need to stop staring at them,” Tech said, only to be with groans and grumbles from his brothers. But they all knew he was right, and soon conversation flowed once again. After a serving droid dropped off another round of drinks (no doubt courtesy of Echo), Hunter glanced over towards the bar once again to see you and him in quiet conversation, him on one of the stools as you mixed drinks from behind the bar. It was clear that the two of you were picking things up right where you left off, and Hunter couldn’t help but feel happiness bloom in his heart for Echo, because he definitely deserved it.

- the end -

i no longer have a taglist! if you're interested in being notified when i post, you can follow my library blog @ghostofskywalker-library and turn on notifications!

[myslutwritings]

Hey, hope you’re doing well!<3 :)

I love your headcanons on the uppermoon demons!! (I start doing laps around my room and cartwheeling every time you post🛐) I have a request on the upper moons x their female s/o during her time of the month (esp when she has very bad period cramps 🥲 like literally feels like you’re getting stabbed in the lower abdomen, back pain, nausea etc.,etc.)

You can write either mainly SFW hcs or mix it up with NSFW hcs, I don’t mind, just happy to get the request written tbh😭

(Also, if you don’t feel comfortable writing for such a topic, that’s okay! :) thank you for taking the time to read my request though! Hope you have a good day/night!<3)

TYSM🫶🫶 i’ll definitely be doing this! (and fyi yes i am completely writing for this kind of thing! it’s completely normal!)

➤ Uppermoons taking care of you on your time of the month

➤ Headcanons (not proof read)

Uppermoons x F!reader (modern AU)

Including: Muzan, Kokushibo, Douma, Akaza + Hantengu Clones!

•

•

•

warnings: mostly sfw but with some semi-nsfw

Muzan Kibutsuji

He l literally just arrives home to find you curled up on the bed. You look like you’re in agony and immediately he presumes someone hurt you.

That’s all until you tell him that your body is just experiencing horrendous cramps due to being on your period.

Muzan isn’t a dumbass so he’s familiar with what a period is.

So he obviously isn’t repulsed by you or anything!

You don’t even have to tell him fully because he caught the whiff of your blood prior. Which is another reason he thought someone hurt you at first.

As we know, not the best at giving affection but he’ll take care of you (if you’re lucky)

But whenever you’re on your period you receive sooo much affection from him and it always catches you off guard because you never EVER witness him like this.

Muzan lowkey loves how clingy you get as well. Feeds off it when you rely on him. It’s his confidence boost.

Cuddles with you (on occasion) and will give you free massages without you having to ask.

Isn’t the most vocal but he will whisper words of affirmation in your ear. It sends chills down your spine whenever he does.

You don’t even have to tell him where your cramps are because he immediately knows and takes care of it for you!

Is unexpectedly good at holding back his hunger for your blood. Muzan Isn’t too fond of your blood in the first place because he doesn’t want to hurt you in any way. (surprisingly. considering he’s the demon king n all)

Kokushibo

Then again, like Muzan he assumes you’re hurt until you inform him that you’re just having agonizing cramps.

Kokushibo absolutely despises witnessing you in any form of pain so without saying a word you’re quickly embraced by him.

Will take care of you all day and all night until you’re finally off your period.

Has to fight back the urge to taste your blood💀

If you have to postpone sexy times then he is understanding! As long as you’re comfortable. He’s happy just taking care of you like this.

Is a bit shocked by how needy you become though.

It’s sorta cute in his six eyes how humans get like this.

he’ll also love love LOVE how you’ll rely on him.. (but ofc he doesn’t express it)

Being overly vocal isn’t his nature but he’ll do his best to comfort you with his words as well if you’re in extreme pain.

Gently massages your cramps, buys you a heating pad and everything or he’ll even bathe you. Bro is such a gentleman tbh<33

I’m conclusion, he is always prepared. He’ll happily buy you a bunch of sweets if you have a habit of earthy candy while you’re on your cycle. Always prepared with pads too.

Douma

Douma isn’t really too fond of how lazy you become whenever you’re on your period!

You’re usually up and about so what’s changed?

At first he doesn’t notice until he smells the faint scent of fresh blood.

It’s embarrassing really because at first you didn’t tell him. But Douma isn’t an idiot so he immediately knows and teases you when you confess you were too shy to tell him.

Douma absolutely adores taking care of you and he literally is on his knees for you no matter what so anything you need he can definitely provide it! He’s obsessed with giving. He’s almost too giving.

I feel like he would just naturally have sweets in his house so he’ll just give them all to you.

Will bathe you and cook for you and gives you very intimate massages.

Tells you how you smell extra good whenever you’re on your period.

You punched him in the stomach for that.

Buttttt.. if you’re the one to not wanna engage in sexual acts when you’re on your cycle he will throw a fit if you have to postpone sexy times with him. i

He wants to taste you badly. Especially when you’re bleeding from there yk (he’s so downbad it’s unreal)

On the other end, he’s still satisfied though because you become way more clingy! Usually, he’s the one who’s clingy, so it’s like the roles are reversed.

Douma also finds it amusing whenever you’re withering in pain because of your cramps. He gets off by how extra vulnerable you get. (He’s such a sadist, i swear)

Douma lends you extra cuddles but you proceed to complain about how cold he is. You want to be warm and comfortable and be just isn’t helping with us naturally cold body temperature.

Throws a tantrum if you don’t wanna cuddle. Will beg you until you say yes. He doesn’t care and thinks you’ll feel better if you let him hold you (He is fucking delusional and doesn’t understand that he’s only making it worst)

Akaza

You know him, you love him.

You bet your ass this man is gonna be head over heels for you and treat you like his queen no matter what.

Akaza immediately knows what’s up when he comes across you lying on the couch clearly in pain.

Carries you to the bedroom and gives you a heating pad and just lies down next to you while stroking your hair. Telling you about his day because he knows his words comfort you!

You don’t even have to tell him because he knows what makes you feel better when you’re on your time of the month!

Buys you all the necessities you need! He naturally just knows by heart what to get.

Even buys you the correct pads/tampons too, gets you your favorite candy as well, or anything else you like!

Suchhhhh a fucking gentleman!!

The two of you share lots of fluffy moments together!

Whenever you’re experiencing extreme nausea he will make you something healthy to eat and lend you a cold drink. Will deadass spoon feed you all romantically

He’s super overprotective and loves to take care of you. ALWAYS.

We know Akaza doesn’t eat women so he’s easily able to fight back the urge to taste your blood. He couldn’t care less about that.

Is super understanding and accepting of you don’t want to engage in sexual acts while you’re on your period. He would much rather take care of you! But if you did want to have sex he wouldn’t complain.

Akaza probably wouldn’t be into eating you out while you’re on your period because as we know he doesn’t eat women.

Hantengu Clones

Sekido

You’d probably expect him to be mad but he actually isn’t which is a huge surprise.

He is only mad at the fact you’re in pain.

Only anger is his nature but he’ll drop it for once in order to care for you.

Not the best at it, imma admit.

If he needs to buy you pads he’ll probably get lost in the store. It takes him like an hour to find the correct ones for you because all this feminine stuff is confusing on his end.

But surprise, surprise, he returns back with everything you need despite him taking awhile.

Complains to you about it afterwards and how infuriating it was to find pad/tampons for you.

He’s being over dramatic so you just laugh it off and thank him.

Well, at least you’re happy so that’s good enough.

Doesn’t really like cuddling but if it’ll help you he’ll do it for your sake.

Karaku

Another amazing care taker.

Cooks for you, gives you baths, buys whatever feminine products you require even tho he gets a lil confused..

But at the same time he gets really fucking aroused.

Doesn’t care if you’re bleeding, that makes it even better.

But if you aren’t the type to wanna fuck he’ll understand. But he’s bummed out about it though.

Lots and lots of cuddles for you!

Teases you when you’re in pain (then again, sadist)

But afterwards he’ll feel a tad-bit guilty and just cuddle you until you fall asleep in his arms.

Karaku is surprisingly warm so you don’t need a heating pad when he literally already is one.

Aizetsu

“Are you okay, love?” Aizetsu notices you’re in extreme agony and becomes worried as his eyes laid on your fetal position in bed.

Cue caretaker Aizetsu!!

Seeing you in such pain makes him so upset and even more depressed than before.

Is immediately doing EVERYTHING for you.

Even if this affection causes him to grow exhausted If it means the pain will go away for you then he’ll do it in a heartbeat!

Would never tease you either:( that’s so mean.

Bro gets a little flustered sometimes whenever he has to buy those feminine products for you.

He isn’t experienced with taking care of someone while on their period because he isn’t too sure on what exactly to do.

But as soon as you tell him what to do he’s doing it all in a heartbeat! Is surprisingly a fast learner so he goes into the habit of taking care of you without you having to ask anymore whenever you’re on that time of the month.

He even knows before you know when you’re on your period because he can smell your blood.

Urogi

Right off the bat asks why he smells blood.

You just tell him you’re on your time of the month and then he laughs and just cuddles you.

Is absolute SHIT when it comes to taking care of you though.

He can’t really give you massages because of his talons..

But you get a lot of cuddles though which is a relief!

Buys you painkillers or heating pads.

Goes into he feminine product section of the store and takes a picture of it and asks “What size pussy you wear, mamas?”

You hate him sometimes.

Instead of what you actually need which is the correct tampons and pads he comes back with marshmallows

MARSHMALLOWS

And because you’re more fired up when you’re on your time of the month you literally almost kill him.

He’s sleeping on the couch tonight.

AHHH! i’m so so so sorry for not posting! i’ve been trying to find a new job and life has been a pain in the ass. But i started this last night and was finally able to finish! I hope you like it. My requests are still open so i’m still taking them! It just might take me awhile to finish them.

[orangez3st]

All-Nighter Work High

Entry to @clonexocweek - 02.11.25: Quality Time | Event Masterlist

↤ Prev | Part 2 of 5 | Next ↦

Summary: One step closer to uncovering the truth. In the domestic comfort of her apartment, Lesiil unravels the web of reasons behind the murders while Marshal Commander Fox is finishing his mundane flimsiwork. Tags & Warnings: inaccurate criminal investigation & its related process, domestic fluff, "he fell first x she fell harder" kinda dynamic, wholesome convo, a smidge of grief and angst, lots of light friendly banter, serial killer case, author wrote an intense analytic background of the case, typical murder investigation, author watches true crime for reference Pairing: Fox × Det. Lesiil Thrace (OFC Crime Investigator) Word Count: 7.4k A/N: Second day of the event! This is one of my faves to write 😄 So giddy to find out you lot are enjoying the previous part so much! Here's fluff as a treat, hopefully you find them cute and amusing 🫶🏼 and a really comprehensive detail of the case for which I turned my braincells on.

𝑰'𝒎 𝒕𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒍𝒊𝒎𝒊𝒕𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒂 𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒅 𝒄𝒂𝒏 𝒅𝒐

— Routines In The Night - Twenty One Pilots [X]

The initial drama that surrounds the case, Lesiil thinks, is utterly ridiculous.

The first time these murders - or more like the first ten or so victims - occured, the Grand Army of the Republic quite blatantly ignored the bleak reports. Because ten clones mysteriously killed during patrol usually meant nothing as they are always replaceable. At that time, the interval between the murders were quite far apart.

Until the number increased. Concerningly.

Twenty-eight more murders in one week, as if the Corrie Butcher himself took a day off work, took a walk, and went on a spree in that span of five days – five to six victims a day on average.

Naturally, it sparked attention from the inner circle of the Galactic Senate, the politicians feared whoever this serial killer was. If the Corrie Butcher targeted the shock troopers, who stood guard by these important figures, then there was a chance where they would be targeted as well. With that, the conflict won the ultimate scrutiny by the Supreme Chancellor himself that he issued a direct order for the Coruscant Guard to finally investigate the accumulated murders – a total of fifty-five cases by that time, after a whole month of being ignored.

And now, after three whole months, the number increases to a shocking total of 164 cases. Since Lesiil got assigned to the Coruscant Guard, three more of these troopers had fallen to the brutal stabbing of the Corrie Butcher, bringing the total to 167.

Not to mock Coruscant Guard’s previous investigation team, but what have they been doing all this time?

Lesiil had broken this down to the Marshal Commander in one of her daily reports.

One; with 160 or so cases within three months, meaning 54 cases each month on average. The Corrie Butcher makes quick work with his killings, probably went on an uncontrollable and opportunistic spree in one of those nights, as he never sets a target of how many he wishes to kill in one night. There’s always another body near the first one, so the forensics and coroner are able to pinpoint the time of death, additionally with HUD timestamp. Following the victims’ patrol route, Lesiil concludes that the brutal Corrie Butcher is an opportunistic man. He’s aware of the intensity of Corrie patrol routine, blends with the dark, and strikes. Once he strikes, he sees another approaching, and repeats. Every other night – not only a serial killer – the Corrie Butcher is also a spree killer.

It’s as if these clones walk into their deaths, without even seeing it coming. All they saw was a hooded figure before choking on their own blood, the first strike being to the neck. 

Two; why shock troopers? This has been the question since the beginning. Although Lesiil has thought of several theories, nothing is certain, even when the variables aren’t deemed too abstract. She favors one that is most probable, though.

Coruscant Guard shock troopers would only have direct altercation with civilians during, most notably, riot control. Escalation of violence incites more pushed force from the Corries, and that incites more violence, but directed towards the troopers this time. Talking about the motive of personal vendetta; there should be something that might be related to the entire case about riot control in particular. Lesiil holds onto that belief, careful not to announce it aloud with utter confidence, yet.

Three; the obstacle that is the Corrie Butcher himself. His criminal record is squeaky clean, his DNA profile that some of the victims’ armor plate or gloves had acquired in shape of spit or sweat doesn't match anywhere in any police database. All that means he was once an innocent civilian, but then something happened, then his sanity was provoked. Right after that, he leaves 160 cases of serial murders across only three months for the Coruscant Guard to desperately chase after. A daring, heinous act like this…

If one wonders how Lesiil's mind works, that's it. For now.

So in conclusion; the Corrie Butcher, once was an unprovoked man, is now a merciless, opportunistic, trauma-driven serial killer who seeks vengeance to the Coruscant Guard. The deepest, darkest shadows of Coruscant had become his best friend, aiding him delivering that vengeful thirst while slipping through coverings beneath the dark and striking men who merely had only been doing their duty.

The Marshal Commander has been understanding and had taken her considerations to his own. Though, Lesiil knows better, so she refrains from being vocal until the situation needs her to – avoiding throwing caution to the wind. She works with her own mind, and her mind is hers only, not for others to judge. Lesiil knows her assumptions aren't for most people, since most people look at her assumptions like the dirtiest filth on their clothes. For these people, her spoken assumptions are nothing but krayt spit.

That's okay. Her mind is her own.

The next week, with the grim note that the victim count has escalated to 173, Lesiil is one step closer.

She had chosen to dive into her Corrie riot control theory. She can always assemble another probability if one fails, anyway.

Thorn kindly provided her with the necessary reports; a total of 11 times since exactly last standard year. From there, she filtered through. She looked for the ones where peace wasn't an option for these civilians – where violence had escalated to the point that non-lethal force had to be used.

She found 7.

Another filtering through. This time, she looked for the ones where people died unfortunately due to escalated violence.

She found 3.

The Marshal Commander glances back and forth between her and the datapad where she stores her findings of the day.

“These are all, Detective?”

Lesiil nods, keeping her expression neutral as always every time she sits for her daily end-of-the-day reports. A glance here and there to his demeanor and a little listening to his skeptical tone, she knows the Marshal remains cautious to her confidence. She's surprised he's got that amount of patience to face, as people dub it, her ‘krayt spit’.

“And where will you take this to?” the Marshal asks again.

“If it isn't troubling, sir,” she starts, “I would like to gain access to the citizen database so I'll be able to filter through again. I need to look at the profile of all these victims, aiming to see their names, physical features, associations, and familial connections.”

That's right. After jotting down the mentioned 3 riots, her search had to stop. To access the profile of these victims, she needs additional access to the central database of Coruscanti citizens. The party who may grant her that access is her own CO, no less.

Sighing, the Marshal leans back into his padded seat. “I can do that tomorrow,” he says finally.

“With all due respect, I need it tonight, sir,” Lesiil affirms, meeting his baffled expression. “Because if I’m right and we need to detain this individual as fast as possible, the whole process of obtaining a search and arrest warrant and assembling a house raid squad afterward takes time.”

The Marshal Commander waves her off. “No offense, Detective, but…” He trails off, glancing away momentarily, and lets out a long sigh. His hand goes to his face, dazedly rubbing his stubble in consideration. She waits. “How confident are you?” he then asks carefully.

“9 out of 10,” she says calmly, “And I am always right.”

A scoff escapes him as he shakes his head.

Lesiil's gaze remains stubbornly fixated onto the man.

Another sigh. “Very well,” he concedes, “But I have other matters to attend to.”

“Flimsiwork, I hope? Not patrol?”

He lets out a low chuckle, “Yeah. One of your luckiest nights.”

Lesiil feels her cheeks slightly heat up in embarrassment. Did she sound too desperate? Was there something the Marshal deemed amusing? Or is it about his crow's feet that emerge whenever he smiles? She won't lie, such a kind of smile that reaches one's eyes is attractive.

“How soon do you need it?” his voice breaks her trance.

“As soon as possible,” she replies calmly, “I'm already willing to work through the night till morning.”

The Marshal looks at her concerningly. “I won't, and can't, allow you to stay overnight here in HQ.”

Lesiil shrugs. She's grown a bit too casual with the Marshal this past week. “I've planned to continue working elsewhere.”

“Where?”

“Why, my apartment, of course,” she answers lightheartedly, “24-hour public co-working space is costly, and while my own dwelling is free, I'd hate spending credits for something I do have myself; private space.”

The crease between his eyebrows deepens in thought. She notices a brewing conflict in his amber eyes, sparking and reflecting the lighting of his office. His luscious dark curls have long forgotten to be combed back and fallen to his brows, the silvery strands kissing his eyelids, making her wonder why he isn't choosing the regulatory haircut. But if it's personal preference and is a quirk, among millions of clones, she's glad her CO is a little rebel himself when it comes to his hair underneath that helmet.

“So,” she interrupts softly to not startle him, “Is it a yes, sir?”

His amber eyes pierce her with an intensity she can't quite define. “That data is sensitive and prone enough to security breach. I can't risk it, so as your CO, I’ll have to supervise you while you work and make sure you utilize it accordingly.”

Lesiil hums, nodding. “I’ll brew you some caf, then.”

“It's not–” the Marshal lets out a long sigh, closing his eyes momentarily. He places his jaw in his hand propped on the arm of his padded chair. “It won't look appropriate,” he mutters.

That's what he's worried about?

“I don't see any issue? I work, you watch me work, and we will be doing that till sunrise or till I can't help my fatigue, or you with yours,” she demands, “I solemnly promise I won't continue my work if you somehow fall asleep.”

The Marshal remains unamused. “You could just wake me up, Detective.”

“Could I?”

“I'm serious, Thrace.”

“I am as well, sir,” she counters as respectfully as she can, “Maker knows how many hundred hours of sleep you've lost. If you fall asleep, I will take a break as well and retreat to my room.”

Another pause as he takes it into deep consideration. Lesiil steals the moment to appreciate his pronounced jawline, how the lighting graciously gives his bronze skin a mysterious silhouette despite his caf-less and fatigued countenance, and the white scar across his nose.

It's an old wound for sure, but she silently wonders if it's still sensitive to the touch.

Before she knows it, those amber eyes are already staring at her, one scarred eyebrow slightly raised in question.

The Marshal catches her staring.

“You're gonna have to brew me that caf,” his gruff voice says with a certain inflection that indicates total smugness in her book.

Refusing to give away any cadence that signals shame and embarrassment, Lesiil lets a smile slide seamlessly into her face. “A deal's a deal, Marshal.”

Fox regrets taking that deal.

Lesiil Thrace’s apartment radiates nothing but comfort, haze, and warmth that once he took off his helmet and stepped foot inside, the serene ambience itself lulls him, persuading him to plop down onto one of the plush seatings and then catch some z’s. Upon the invitation she had said to make himself at home, he was actually tempted to lay down and pass out.

Their respective piles of datapads sit on the cleared dining table, flimsiwork ready to be tended to. What's funny for him is that the table is so huge he could dine there with the usual command vode, despite the fact that the detective lives alone.

BD-6 hops onto the table.

Well. Alone, with the droid.

While the host and current occupant of the refresher down the hall is not around, Fox takes the unspoken invitation to observe and prod about the space. One section of the apartment that intrigues him is the spot where he now sets his feet on, the eyes within hung holostills on the wall staring back at him.

They're all, as expected, images of family and coworkers. There are several holostills of the detective and two people which he easily identifies as her buire and there are another of her with a man about her age, all ranged from the age of childhood to maturity, one of those images is them posing in their university graduation toga, wide grins adoring both faces.

Vod.

Just one, instead of millions.

Soft pitter-patter echoing down the hall catches his attention. Detective Thrace adorns some casual set of sleeved shirt and long pajama trousers, void of any patterns, stripped from the usual sight of a punctual set of shirt and jacket and trousers usually seen in HQ. Dark curly tresses, thick and unbound and looks like just has been blow-dried, fans about her shoulders voluminously.

Thrace is heading down the kitchen, not paying a second glance at him standing by that part of the apartment, and straight up switches on the caf machine.

“Is that your brother?” Fox asks to break the silence.

Thrace grabs two mugs from the top cabinet. “Yes. My twin, actually. Railuu Thrace,” she answers, her back to him as she busies herself. “Friendly to everyone he met. Sociable. Silly man, he was.”

Fox tilts his head down upon instinct.

“Was he a detective too?”

“No, sir.” Thrace finally turns around, leaning back against the counter, hands joined in front of her. “But he served aboard the Triumphant as the one and only natborn deck officer. I believe you’re familiar with Jedi General Plo Koon’s flagship incident?”

He stills. “Abregado... yeah.”

Thrace nods absentmindedly, her storm grey eyes fixing elsewhere. “The General personally delivered the news to our family. He was fond of Railuu, and said his sincerest apologies for being unable to retrieve the body due to the… tragic incident.” She looks up at him with a faint smile. “Railuu was as close as family to the entire 104th. He never stopped talking about the unit whenever we got on holocall.”

He wonders if she had befriended a certain commander of his corps because the man reminds her of her late twin brother.

“My condolences,” he offers quietly, “Must be a good man to earn the favor of a Jedi General and his entire battalion.”

“Thank you,” Thrace nods solemnly, “He was. Really was.”

At the given silence once she turns her back on him again, he can't help but think.

Is that why she regards the clones with so much respect, unlike most people?

Thrace calls out from the kitchen, “I hope you're hungry, Marshal, because I'm starving.” She gets back to her feet after retrieving ingredients from the food preservator, smiling his way welcomingly. “I suppose a little break from mess rations wouldn't hurt, would you agree, sir?”

Fox allows himself a small chuckle. Who, even among clones, would deny a good home-cooked dish?

“Drop the ‘sir’,” he says curtly as he makes his way to sit at the dining table, “We're not in HQ. Fox is fine.”

Thrace turns around. “But we're working.”

He gives a pointed gaze at the half-chopped vegetables.

“Later,” Thrace insists, turning back around to resume her food cutting endeavor. “I may be the host tonight, but you remain my commanding officer.”

BD-6 beeps from his current spot on one of the chairs, something about him making Thrace glaring subtly at him.

“What did he say?” Fox prompts.

Thrace openly lets out a long sigh. “Beedee said he took your side, that I should loosen up now that I'm in my own home.”

“Even the droid gets it,” Fox says, nodding towards the droid, “Why wouldn't you? Should I make it an order?”

She lets out a dry laugh. “I do not think it's necessary, sir.”

From this angle, he can't quite see her from his seat, but he'd be willing to bet she's slightly blushing, if not. Merciful as he is towards his coworkers (that's a lie), he decides to drop it altogether and reaches for the top datapads of his pile to start working on awaiting spreadsheets, settling comfortably on the padded chair, the absence of his top armor has never been so relieving.

Within the hour, they have a quiet hearty dinner, clear the table once again, and start working.

Fox tosses her a data stick. “That’s the key to gain access to the database. I'll have to have my eyes on you while you work,” he reminds her.

Thrace, on her way now to her working space to grab her holocomputer, nods in acknowledgment.

He goes back to his mundane spreadsheet. Letters and numbers and statistics hold a menacing glare at him, promptly smacking him right in the nose for even sighing.

They had collectively decided that working on the dining table isn't helping for the back and shoulder pain that pop up after two hours of sitting. And so they’d moved to the living area and settled down on the rug, legs tucked underneath the caf table while leaning back against the couch.

The Marshal had thrown most courtesy and air of professionalism out of the airlock, seeing him now casually lounging across the plush couch by absolute not pulling ranks earlier.

“Getting comfortable are we, sir?” Lesiil teases without looking away from her datapads.

“Can't resist a good couch, DT,” the Marshal then yawns. Taking it as a cue, Lesiil pushes his caf mug an inch further towards him.

The Marshal sits up and reaches for the mug, observing it for a few seconds before sipping. “Do all your caf mugs have poor police puns like this?”

You have the right to remain silent sleeping

Lesiil chuckles softly. “If that’s your way of saying that I have an excellent sense of humor, Marshal, then I appreciate the recognition.”

He looks at her in disbelief. “No way you made these lines.”

“Of course not. Don't be silly, Marshal. I don't make jokes.”

“Understood. No humor coming from you then, DT,” the Marshal sulks.

“Huh. So you believe that, sir?”

“...I appreciate your humor now.”

“Why, thank you,” she grins widely, but then suddenly she grows concerned. “Are you certain you aren't as jittery as supposed from someone being so high on caf, sir? Because this is very highly out of character for you.”

The Marshal pointedly takes another sip. “Not strong enough to break my character. And did you just say I was never funny?”

“Thorn once said you're ruthless and very exhausted that you never have time to make jokes.”

Her guest and commanding officer merely scoffs, replacing his mug, and reclines back on the couch to return to his mundane flimsiwork.

“Thorn told me you're from Alderaan,” he says a minute later, “You a member of the noble houses?”

Lesiil, not even turning slightly to face him as she's still busy on her works, explains, “I was, but I renounced all my royal titles and the duty that followed. I’ve chosen to serve the people by doing the field work. Not too keen on forever being prim and proper.”

The Marshal goes quiet behind her, probably surprised and all learning the new information. “Is that why you sound too formal to everyone's liking when you speak?” he asks again.

She nods. “I was taught such etiquettes, yes.”

Silence for a beat or two, and then…

“Do you swear?” the Marshal prods again.

Lesiil rolls her eyes. “Internally.”

“Really?” he lets out bemused chuckles, “Like what?”

“If I’m not mistaken, Marshal, I do not owe you anything to the point I have to disclose what swear words I use whenever I like.”

“What, afraid to break character?”

“I’ve always been like this.”

The Marshall snorts. “Krayt spit.”

Lesiil shrugs. “Colloquial speech has just never been in my favor, sir.”

“Drop the ‘sir’,” he insists, his tone serious coming from behind her, “Just Fox.”

A loud sigh flies off her lips. “If I call you by your name, will you stop pestering me about my use of swear words?”

“I solemnly swear,” he mimics her saying earlier.

Another sigh.

“Okay, Fox.”

The Marshal bursts out into a fit of cackles. “Yeah, it doesn't suit you.” He coughs, clutching his stomach. “Sounds kriffing weird comin’ from you. And it's just a single word. It's like your accent just changed, too.”

Despite the sheer embarrassment for being so bold, Lesiil merely shakes it away and sends him a smirk instead. “I believe you see why now, Marshal.”

Good food. Good caf. Good couch. Good company.

Fox is spoiled as kriff.

If he'd rejected this idea earlier, he'd be stuck in his office till late without selfishly getting familiar with such domestic comfort. He's sure if he'd rejected this idea earlier he'd be dead by now by the rawest form of sole regret alone.

The chronometer now shows 0140.

Fox stretches. “You don't wanna take a break?” he asks the detective.

Thrace huffs quietly. “I’m still trudging through these 52 victims one by one and copying the essentials manually to my datapads because the access key is not even giving me full access.”

“Protocols, Detective,” he reminds her, “Can't give you full access.”

She nods. “Perfectly understood, Marshal.”

“Call me Fox,” he says curtly after rolling his eyes.

“Yes, Fox.”

Then before he can stop it, “Can I call you Lesiil?”

Her tone earlier had been meaning to be deadpanning. He knows it. She only wishes to focus on her work.

But the detective now slowly turns to face him, grey eyes greeting his amber ones. The edge of her lips lift momentarily, driving him to glance at them hoping she doesn't notice. But of course, with the Lorrdian blood, maybe she does? Remembering just that, and how accurate the read can be, he suddenly feels his cheek burn the life out of him. But he never backs down from a challenge. He stands his ground.

Accompanied by a certain twinkle in her stormy orbs underneath the warm lighting of her dwelling, he lets himself think he's certain that he's lost it when her voice, absent of any apathetic deadpan and formality, comes out as soft and sincere.

“Yes you can, Fox.”

He holds her gaze steadfastly, relishing how his given Basic name had rolled off her courteous tongue.

“Well,” he starts, leaning away, “I'm taking a break for an hour, Lesiil. If I suddenly stop talking, don't wake me.”

Lesiil smirks cheekily before turning away. “Never planned to, Fox.”

Seemingly grateful for the eventual silence, Fox notices Lesiil is working almost twice as fast, leaving him almost feeling guilty for distracting her, although the purpose was to build a friendlier rapport. Now watching her tapping and running her dainty fingers across datapads, he considers it somehow as a therapy and, really, a break.

After what must've been half an hour of being awake thanks to Lesiil's good caf still running through his system, suddenly she turns to face him again.

He almost scowls. “What?”

Lesiil rolls her eyes. “First off, that tone is unnecessarily rude,” she says calmly, “Second off, I was just checking if you had fallen asleep. As promised, if you do, I will stop as well and take a break.”

“Why break?” Fox mumbles into the throw pillow under his cheek, “Why not a nap?”

“Caf is running within my veins as we speak. I am now quite awake,” she explains gently, the grey storm in her orbs sparkling at the right angle, “And I do not have the mighty tolerance as you do.”

He smirks. “Just watching you work as I'm supposed to do, Detective. It's not as boring as my reports.”

“It is mentally stimulating,” Lesiil admits with a nod of agreement, “It’s always either something new or something familiar, whilst yours is always the latter.”

“That supposed to mean as an insult?”

“What an outrageous accusation, Marshal.” She turns away, unable to hide her smirk. “I would never insult the very system I am working in.” For yet another minute or two, she finally sighs loudly. “And we're now finished. Finally. Beedee!”

The droid, faraway, trills in attention and immediately makes his way over.

Currently, the chronometer shows 0238.

“What will you do now?” Fox asks when BD-6 starts to tinker about datapads.

Lesiil is still acknowledging the droid's questioning boops before answering him, “Beedee will be helping me with the compartmentalizing as usual. This time we're cataloguing the cause of death of these 52 profiles.” She disengages the data stick from the holocomputer. “It’s a quick process, then we narrow it all down.”

He watches her sipping her caf and sighing afterward. “Isn’t 52 too much?” he asks, concern tinged in his voice.

“I admit, yes,” she says, “I would gladly take your generous helping hand if you are offering.”

Wordlessly, he plops down next to her and takes the datapad she hands him. “Catch me up to your thinking, DT. What should I be looking for?”

“Something that catches your eye,” she answers vaguely, “We’ll wait for Beedee first.” Then, as if cued, their datapads ping. BD-6 beeps in confirmation. Lesiil pats his head. “Thanks, Beedee. Now, let’s sort.”

Fox gobbles down the list, swallowing every now and then as he skims through the written manner of death – which all of them were deemed as accidental – and the cause of death – which varies through traumatic asphyxia to blunt force trauma to cardiac arrest.

“What about parents?” he blurts out as he stares at a still of a senior citizen. “What if parents?”

“Statistics show a person is likely to be reacting more emotionally to the death of spouse or spawn. But there have been more cases involving a murderous parent of a dead child,” Lesiil asserts, “So we're using this as the base of our assumptions that we may be looking for someone younger.”

Acknowledging, Fox manages to cross off a third of the list which consists of senior citizens.

“Some of these are parentless,” he says again, “We're looking for someone that comes out of legal marriages?”

Lesiil looks at him with thought. “If we are dedicated enough to go along with this theory, then yes. Good observation, sir. Fox.”

He scoffs, both at her statement and her slipup. “Still a theory, huh?”

“We’re utilizing whatever data is available and making sensible assumptions. Seeing that we have nothing on the Corrie Butcher, not even a clear screencap of an entire face let alone a name, we take another route to find who his name is and what he looks like.” She gives him a look. “No thanks to your hasty investigation team to overlook everything else there is.”

Fox resists rolling his eyes. “In our defense, we were processing this strictly by the book.”

“The book sometimes hinders you,” declares Lesiil, looking deep into his eyes, “If there's another angle, however improbable or implausible that is, rather than wasting time mulling over nonexistent data and waiting for it to pop up, one must dedicate themselves to approach that angle.”

A smirk slides into his face. “Wise words, Lesii.”

“Those wise words circulate around the Criminal Investigations Department quite regularly since it takes shape as our very job description,” she deadpans, then does a double take. “And did you just call me Lesii?”

“What? Don't like it? Own it.”

She chuckles, shaking her head. “Sir, yes sir.”

His gaze on her lingers on her and her luscious coiled hair for a little longer before he reels himself away from the trance, and begins working on his share.

Emptying his already full cup; that's what he's doing right now. Dipping his hands into investigative police work, a far cry from his usuals; planning senate security detail, mapping out patrol routes, sniffing criminal activity, studying the cruel and hazardous structures of the underworld, securing every sort of security breaches in a moment's notice, bringing in enemies of the state. As quick and intelligent as he is trained, he can never match Lesiil Thrace's level of intellect.

Working with the woman has been pleasant, albeit the presumptive rambling and mind maps at the end of any day. Lesiil knows what to anticipate, what's sensible, and what's critical to prioritize firsthand. The trait puts her several steps ahead.

It's only been a week, not even a month, since her arrival, and now Fox is presented with a good chance of identifying his brothers’ killer at any moment.

Had she been brought in much earlier… many wouldn't have to die in the hands of this ruthless individual.

“Intriguing,” Lesiil hums next to him.

Fox perks up, leaning closer. “What?”

She tilts her datapad in his direction. “This one. Female, Kayl Brando.” A still of a blonde woman. “Her name had been mentioned in the media. Her family sued the Coruscant Guard for her death, caused by asphyxia, because she attended one of the riots where your division had to use tear gas. The media, backed up by the family's given statement and medical records, mentioned she had a generational severe lung injury so the use of your tear gas had been fatal.”

Fox rubs a hand over his stubble as he recalls. “I remember that, yeah. That was seven months ago.”

Lesiil scrolls more. “Seven months ago, correct,” she confirms, shifting slightly to face him. “Could you please provide more context?”

Fox lets out a long sigh as he runs a hand through his curls. “Charges were dropped. Using tear gas when violence escalates is simply within regulations. Technically not our fault she had that injury in the first place.” He shakes his head. “But if I'm not mistaken, that family had been vocal. Raising awareness from the empathic community and pushing more hostility towards the Corries.”

Lesiil takes another glimpse at the shown data. “And right after that, the trend dies, the talks dwindled to nonexistence,” she nods in confirmation, “It seems everything went into a downward spiral for this family.”

Fox shrugs. “Well, they already lost the lawsuit before it even began. Charges were dropped ‘cause the Coruscant Guard, or GAR, did nothing wrong.”

They continue searching. Fox goes to refill his mug with that beautiful caf blend and snatches a packet of Saleucami cheese biscuits from the little basket on the kitchen counter. Lesiil notices but says nothing, yet the look in her eyes is quite encouraging.

Welcome to my humble abode, Marshal. Make yourself comfortable. And I'd very much like your boots off, please. Refresher’s just down the hall.

He meets her gaze daringly, walks backwards to her food conservator, and opens it.

He gasps.

“Never thought of you as a beer drinker, DT,” Fox eyes the three glass bottles inside. “Stressful times call for desperate measures, huh?”

“You may take one if you'd like, Fox.”

“Tempting. Sticking with caf tonight. Maybe another time.”

Lesiil smiles, but says nothing.

About ten minutes later, she asks again, “Did you find anything yourself, sir?”

Gulping down the last of the cheese biscuits, Fox hums in confirmation next to her. “5 more people followed the notion of that lawsuit.”

Looking down at her own datapad, Lesiil skims through the marked profiles, taking the typed footnotes into careful consideration. Maybe there are actual gears inside her head that whir whenever she thinks, Fox thinks.

“Then we are rounding this up,” she says suddenly.

He does a double take. “We're done?” 

“Hm, not quite.”

It's 0317 now. Lesiil grabs her work commlink. 

“I have to make a few calls to the forensics at CSF and my supervisor beforehand, for the permit and the go. We still have to match DNA samples between these victims and the Corrie Butcher with hopes we’re about to get somewhere.” She looks up at him and Fox catches her knowing smirk. “That must interest you.”

“Yeah, finally, something by the book,” Fox deadpans. “Will that take more time?”

Lesiil shrugs, leaning back against the couch. “I have friends in the division whose sleep I am allowed to interrupt for all I care. This is for a high-profile case, after all.”

“So now they're doing the work? Thank Prime. I'd really like to catch that break right now.”

“Was all that not ‘break’ enough for you, Fox?”

“Oh, it was refreshing, but if I spend another minute looking at a screen, I think I'm gonna develop aneurysm on the spot.”

Another new thing about the Marshal Lesiil has just learned tonight; several cups of caf does absolutely nothing to one extremely fatigued commander to the point she's actually concerned for the prospect of acid reflux.

That, and he is now asleep. Still in a seated position by her side on the rug, arms folded loosely across his chest, legs stretched out under the caf table, head back and flushed on the padded cushion of the couch.

And nothing seems to wake him, even as of now she's contacting her fellow detective partner.

“You’re lucky some of the guys in the lab are still up by this hour, Les,” Eisen the Nautolan speaks through her commlink, “They’re going through it as we speak. Inspector commed me earlier to supervise the whole thing for you as well. It's top priority now.”

“Thank you, Eisen,” Lesiil says in a low voice, being considerate to Fox's state either way, “And about the 6 profiles I've sent you? Is there anything you've found in your search?”

“Yeah. One of them, just recently. Last night, actually. Related to a, uh, Kayl Brando.”

Lesiil draws a sharp inhale. “Before you dive into the explanation, will you please kindly hold for a moment?”

“Yeah yeah, sure. I've got all day, Les. Or morning, whatever. It's 0400 anyway.”

She presses the mute button and turns to the sleeping commander.

“Marshal.” She grabs his forearm and shakes him. “Marshal, wake up.”

Still asleep like dead. She wonders if this is what it feels like to be in Thorn's position, though she's doing the exact opposite of what he'd do.

Lesiil reaches out, muttering an apology under her breath, before carefully pats his cheek. “Fox? Wake up, come on. Fox?”

The Marshal stirs just as she retracts her hand swiftly. But just for good measure, she keeps shaking him awake by the forearm. His lids crack open, drowsy amber eyes peeking through thick dark eyelashes.

“Wha’?”

“We’ve made progress,” Lesiil announces, “I’m currently in contact with my partner, he's gotten something.”

Fox merely nods, yawning and scrubbing his hands all over his face before sitting up properly and cracking his back.

Seeing him refreshed enough to listen to a whole critical conversation, Lesiil disables the mute button and raises her commlink near her mouth. “You may talk to me now, Eisen.”

“Okay, about this Kayl Brando,” the Nautolan instantly replies, “I'd like to confirm again that she really tragically passed away in that riot due to respiratory failure. Underlying cause, as written in her death certificate, is chemical irritant exposure. Tear gas. Right?”

Recognition sparks in Fox's amber brown eyes.

Lesiil locks her gaze with his. “That is correct.”

“That's what I found. Additionally; Kayl Brando was the only daughter to a now divorced couple, Jai Brando and Helne Firrda, both still living on Coruscant. And last night, Ms Firrda called our line to suggest a welfare check on her ex-husband’s house.”

Lesiil recognizes both names as the ones she saw in multiple holonews articles about their lawsuit. Fox wordlessly shares her expression.

“What for? Something happened?” she inquires hastily.

“Hadn't heard of him in three days. Usually they keep in touch, with her being some kind of a support system. According to her and a brief examination of Jai Brando's medical files…” Eisen lets out a long, heavy sigh, “He’s suffering from PTSD and dissociation. And hell of a track record of substance abuse to cope with his grief, too. As personal commentary, Les, I'd say this is chronically messed up.”

She takes a deep breath. “I have to agree.” Fox nods at her in agreement. “And the welfare check?”

“We had someone there just last night at, uh, they knocked on his residence at 2056. I can send you the bodycam feed and transcript real quick, if you're interested. It was just a brief interaction. The ex-wife calmed down.”

Sounds like another hour of observing, but this time with more certainty. “I'd very much appreciate that,” Lesiil says.

“Okay. Sending,” the Nautolan responds. Not long after, her holocomputer beeps in receival. “I'll keep in touch with you when the test results are in.”

“Thank you for your tremendous aid, Eisen.”

“And you doing great as always, partner.”

“What test results?” Fox asks her once the comm call ends.

“DNA, sir. I sent samples of the 5 victims, Kayl Brando included, and the unknown one found on the victims' bodies to the CSF forensics lab,” Lesiil kindly reminds him, leaning back and crossing her arms.

“Right,” he nods slowly, “So we're onto this guy?”

“For now, the anticipation is overbearing and I hope I am not wrong, or all this will be for nothing.”

“It won't be for nothing,” Fox disagrees, his unapproving gaze bearing down onto her, but there's a softness to it that she can only register as fondness. “It's still progress, Lesii. Don't be so hard on yourself.”

With her mug of caf running out two hours ago and the slower flow of adrenaline pumping through her veins, Lesiil allows her tense body to relax and let herself take a breath.

“Thank you, Fox.”

She meets his gaze lazily as the littlest bit of fatigue begins to catch up on her burnout body, with gratefulness blossoming inside her chest for his tremendous trust and support.

Marshal Commander Fox has been nothing but a man appreciative of everybody's work, even though in possession of a blunt mouth and patience as thin as flimsi. Weird, because Thorn said he's especially impatient with everyone, always urging them along and biting back with a bitter and snarky remark. But not with her.

He respects her in return, it makes her feel… recognized. Not recognized as in fame and notoriety, but for her genuineness, her tireless efforts to restore justice, and her sacrifices; time, mental, body, and shame, when bizarre looks are thrown her way whenever she opens her mouth.

But why treat her like she's anybody different?

Among clones, it's understandable.

But when it's only the two of them like this?

Lesiil is no idiot. She notices his signs. The Marshal has been holding himself back. Sitting an inch closer, peering in when interested, acting so freely and relaxed, holding her gaze a bit longer than supposed to, his beautiful amber eyes softening, catching her lips for a split second just a little while ago. The ridiculous amount of trust and bluntness, as if exhibiting his true self behind all the hard shell of a stoic commander of his corps.

Maybe there will be a time, when it's right, when it's fitting, to give in.

But not now.

As much as she perhaps wishes to curl her fingers into his luscious curls, mindlessly counting each of his silvery strands with the pad of her thumb, caressing his shapely jawlines, tracing his scars and kissing every inch of his skin…

It's not now.

Now, there's murder to solve. A serial murder of Fox's own brothers. Thinking about them makes her think about her own brother, who died along with the crew aboard the Triumphant. Railuu loved the 104th like they were his own brothers. To honor his beautiful memory, maybe she would be willing to completely open up so she can share that fondness with the Coruscant Guard and its Marshal Commander as well.

Fox gets up, his mug and hers in his hands. “I’ll get you more caf, DT.”

A small laugh escapes her. “Ah please, no more. Or I’ll be jittery for the whole day. I prefer not to.”

Not saying anything, he continues his pace towards the caf machine for his refill. As the rich liquid pours in, Fox puts her caf mug in the sink and retrieves a new one from the top cabinet before filling it with cool water.

“We still have work to do, Detective,” he says when he returns to his seat next to her. Her glass of water sits nearby. “Don't fall asleep on me.”

Lesiil had been putting her head on her folded arms atop the table. “I am falling asleep on the table as we speak,” she mutters, letting the caf-induced uneasiness in her body calm down.

“The point stands,” Fox says firmly, almost commanding, “I don't want you sleeping when we're one step closer to the truth.”

Her dark curls form a curtain before her eyes as she shifts. “Possible truth.”

“You're the one 100% confident about this, Lesiil.” His tone gradually grows sharper. “Since when we trade places? I'm the one convincing you now?”

She blinks away her fatigue and sits up straight. “Yes, sir. Apologies,” she mumbles, scooting closer to the holocomputer.

His glare on her dissipates. “Don't sulk. Don't be insecure,” he encourages, “Won't do good for morale. You're doing well.”

Because of all that he is, the smile she directs at him is wider and glowing with genuineness.

“Thank you.”

Suddenly her commlink beeps, startling the serene atmosphere.

“Thrace,” she answers.

“Les, have you watched the footage?” Eisen’s voice rings through.

“Just about to.” She catches urgency in his tone. “Has something come up with the tests?”

“That's the thing. You haven't watched it right? I have, so here I'll save you some time.” Eisen takes a big breath. “The guys checked on Brando. He was cooperative at first, but when they asked about how he's been coping with the loss because the ex-wife mentioned it during the call, he straight up went defensive. There was a bit of verbal altercation, but the worse is when he spat on them. Like, literally. Literal ball of spit.”

Lesiil scrambles up and begins to pace. “Please tell me you took it down as a sample.”

“Oh yeah, they did,” the Nautolan tells her smugly, “Wiped it down and sent it to the lab, initially to put it in the system in case they wanted to press charges against him for assault. I love these guys, alright? Karking smart. They didn't even know this gotta be related to the Corrie Butcher case, and the coincidence is amazing. Ocean spirits are loving me right now.”

“Eisen, I am aware your jittery is most likely caf-induced now, but please can we swerve back on track?”

“Sorry sorry, I'm just excited.” He clears his throat. “So yeah, all that. And I didn't even know about it until like, forty seconds ago. Labs done, by the way.”

Fox's eyes are trained on her, his body rigid in anticipation for what's to come.

“And the results?” she asks.

There's a sniffle. “Oh they're positive, Les!” Eisen exclaims into the commlink, “Everything! Everything came back positive. Everything matched. The DNA found on the dead troopers, Kayl Brando's DNA, her dad's DNA. Everything matched, Les!”

Lesiil is already running to change.

“Jai Brando is the Corrie Butcher!”

“Search and arrest warrant has been obtained,” Fox says to his commlink, the machinery hum of Lesiil's speeder filling the space around him, “The Detective and I are heading down to the suspect's dwelling to arrest him as we speak.”

Thorn acknowledges from the other side. “We'll take over everything here in your place, vod. Stay safe.”

The sun is barely on the horizon as Lesiil expertly swerves her speeder through the early morning traffic with lights and sirens, the air of urgency blaring louder and louder every second.

“I must ask you to relax, sir,” she says from beside him, eyes focused on the front.

Fox doesn't even realize he's anxious until he stops his fingers from tapping against his thigh plate, bucket already donned upon his shoulders.

“Brando isn't going anywhere,” she assures him. “We’ll be having an entry team and the command post ready in no time.”

“You're handling this right,” he dryly comments, not knowing what to say.

“It's standard, sir. And, not meaning to set a joyous atmosphere in the middle of a grim setting, but,” Lesiil offers him a reassuring smile, “I hope you’re ready for your first ever civilian house raid experience, Marshal.”

Taglist (Form): @yoursrosie @hellfiresky @msmeredithrose @filamentlights

[green-alm0nd]

hiiiii ! I love your writing :) I was wondering if I could request a echo x reader where it’s sorta like long distance so they only saw each other when they came to pabu or the finale, and if you could make it a hug scene like the ones he shared with omega (like the whole running and jumping blah blah blah) sorry if it’s extensive, thank you ! 🫶

[Echo x gn!reader]: Come back to you

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Summary:

Emerie and Echo left Pabu a few weeks after the events on Tantiss. You haven't heard from him ever since and you hope he comes back.

TRIGGER WARNINGS: TBB S3 FINALE SPOILERS, fluff, kissing, a bit suggestive, a bit of angst. Not proofread.

Enjoy!

----

Since the attack on the beautiful island you settled in, you didn't hear anything else from Echo. Pabu had always managed to rebuild itself, adapt and go back to living normally.

Before the Empire found the small island, you and Echo had been in touch for a while, either from commlink calls or messages. After the events that made Tantiss burn to ashes, Echo came back. But, only for a short time. He left with the doctor, Emerie Karr, to try find safe homes for the remaining clones.

It made you angry, yes. But then again, it was Echo. He'd do anything for his brothers.

----

It had been a few weeks since clouds showed up in Pabu and released the water inside of them. Maybe it was the weight of the Empire on the Universe that made the rain stronger, and the mood seemed to be less...heavy.

You were standing inside your shared apartment, looking at the droplets of water falling. It had always brought a sense of comfort to you.

You had asked Hunter several times if he had any news, to which he'd always shake his head. It made you even more depressed.

If it weren't for the rest of the Batch, you'd be alone. Wrecker always forced you to go out, since he knew you wouldn't do it on your own unless it had to do with news about the rebellion, Rex, or your boyfriend.

You sighed. You truly missed him.

Suddenly, your commlink beeped, and got up. You grabbed your comm, and nervously spoke up. It wasn't the commlink that you and the Bad Batch used, it was a private 'channel' you had with Echo.

"Echo?" You whispered, nervously.

You heard a small hum and chuckle.

"Hey."

Adrenaline shot through your veins at the sound of his voice.

"Wh- What? How? Where are you? Are you okay?" You asked, a thousand questions running through your head.

Though you could only hear his voice, a wave of relief washed your body.

"Yeah, I'm alright. I'm currently in Coruscant, in Rex's Underground level base. We're trying to collect all the remaining stuff before he leaves. I'm helping him out." He explained.

You sighed in relief.

"I'm so happy to hear your voice. Why haven't you said anything for the past three week until now?" You asked.

"I've been very busy. We're still trying to find out anything about the nameless clones. I haven't been...that close to my commlink, either." He said, mumbling the last part.

"It's...fine." You replied.

Echo seemed to pick up your tiredness and your sadness, maybe disappointment even, in your voice.

"How... about you? Are you doing alright?" He softly asked.

"Yeah, I just really miss you." You answered, with a small sigh.

Echo let out a small chuckle.

"I miss you too."

You considered telling about how you felt.

"I'm actually not doing great. It's been a rough few weeks and I really needed you but I'm not sure you were free and I didn't want to bother you and-" You stopped, closing your eyes and pinching the bridge of your nose.

"I just wish you were here."

Silence came over the comm channel, before Echo finally spoke up.

"I'm coming over." He suddenly said.

Your eyes widened.

"Wha- no! You can't. You're a thousand clicks away-" he cut you off.

"I'm coming over. That's final, okay?"

You sighed. Your boyfriend was stubborn.

"Okay. I'll wait for you." You replied, before he left the comm channel.

...

A few hours later, the dark night sunk into Pabu. Not that it was super visible, as the clouded skies still let the rain fall.

It was endearing to see how much Echo cared for you, even though he was busy most of the time.

You decided to get dressed, and wait for him on the side of the landing platform, below a huge tree root that provided you shelter from the pouring rain.

Your heart rate sped up, and your knees slightly trembled at the sight of a ship, most likely Echo's, approaching the landing platform.

The big shuttle eventually landed on the island, and you took a step forward. The rain didn't matter anymore, not even when it was soaking your clothes and body.

The ramp lowered, and butterflies filled your stomach, taking your breath away.

And there he was, the guy that had stolen your heart the second you saw him walking inside your coffee shop all those months ago; the man that had swore to you loyalty, even if your relationship was distant; your boyfriend. Echo.

He came down the ramp. Just when his feet touched the ground, you ran towards him and hugged him.

Echo hugged back, burying his nose on your neck.

"Hey." He said.

You smiled.

"Hey."

You two stayed there for a long time, not caring about the rain, not caring about anything at all. What mattered was that Echo was there. Your Echo. He was real. It wasn't a dream.

"I missed you so much." You mumbled, bringing your lips close to his.

"I missed you too." He answered, finally pulling you into the kiss you were desperately yearning for for a long time now.

You kissed back, bringing your hands to his hips, as his hand rested on your cheek.

However, his hand lowered to your butt, giving it a light squeeze: enough to make you squeak and let his tongue explore your mouth.

It had been such a long time since you felt him so close to you it almost felt like a dream.

He pulled away.

"We better go home, seems like rain won't be stopping for a while." He suggested smiling.

You nodded.

"Let's go."

Echo had finally come back home.

----

🗣️❗🎵 PARTY WALKERS IN THE YAAARD TONIIIIGHT🎵❗🗣️ (iykyk)

Currently have that cover from sbg in my head

(I am currently in my last two weeks of final exams so requests might take a while)

(Reblogs are highly appreciated <3)

[nahoney22]

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[bsverryin]

: ̗̀➛ Growing up together with HSR men

Who?

╰┈➤ Gepard, Jing yuan, Blade, Dan heng

Situation?

╰┈➤ Growing up!!

(this headcanon can be childhood friends to lovers or just childhood friends growing up together [platonic!!], your choice!!)

✎ HEADCANONS only!! Wholesome 🫶 I haven't been posting a lot because of busy schedule but I'm grateful for the people who appreciates my works 🥹 I cannot assure you of perfect grammar but I hope you enjoy!!

: ̗̀➛ GEPARD

Gepard never really changed especially the way he treats you ever since you both were little kids. The only thing that changed was he was more passionate to achieve something and stricter to himself.

Ever since you were kids, Gepard was lively and you brought out the best of each other. He used to cry when you cried. You both used to fight just like a cat and dog but don't worry, he's always saying sorry first even when you both were slowly growing up.

When you're both growing up, he would always make sure that he's making time for you so the friendship would remain even in your busiest days. When it comes to problems, Gepard is the first person who you'd always run to and he does the same to you. You both aren't a burden to each other and it made him happy that you're each other's shoulder to lean on.

As adults, you both never really had a chance to see each other as often as before and you both knew that time would come sooner or later. There are times where you surprise him out of nowhere and you brighten up his day whenever you do.

Your friendship is always gonna be strong and so is your love for each other. Growing up with him mentally and physically made it easier for you to adjust and understand especially when it comes to your feelings.

: ̗̀➛ JING YUAN

Jing yuan has the same knowledge as you. It's like, you're each other's clone and you share the same soul with him. Protecting each other and making each other your priority is something that you both did ever since you were young.

As kids, Jing yuan makes sure that you're protected by him. You weren't weak, in fact you were fearless that you'd always get bruised everywhere around your body. Jing yuan is the one who's always scared because you'd always cry out of nowhere and it was because there was blood around your knees, arms and the reason was your reckless behavior such as running and climbing rocks.

While growing up, Jing yuan really did go through a lot and lost so many of his special friends that's why you promised him that you'd always stay by his side no matter what. You weren't good at comforting him and he doesn't like communicating about his feelings, you were scared each day that he'd let you go just like his other friends. You tried to be more cheerful around him to make him feel that you're always there and you'd never leave him.

Finally, when you both were adults, he became much better and happier than before and he really did deserve it. There's no day where he forgets to say thank you to you, for not leaving him and for always cheering him. In conclusion you chose the same path as him because you're a person who keeps their words. Jing yuan deeply cares about your feelings just like what you did to him before.

He deeply cares about your feelings that he always makes sure that the path you chose was something that you do not regret and is something that you did for yourself and not for him.

: ̗̀➛ BLADE

Blade is really used to you, there are times when he tries to push you away but there are times where he's happy to be your one and only friend. You both had so much to learn about each other before you became truly comfortable to each other.

As kids, blade was always the introvert type. It's not a need or want for him to have friends but he doesn't mind. When you came, it felt like you weren't really needed into his life and he guessed that you won't last long and you'd leave him sooner and if not he can just find ways.

Teen blade didn't expect you to last long, how was it that you managed to stay after all these years? He communicates well but at the same time he doesn't. At an early age blade knew that he shouldn't trust anyone. When blade was betrayed and went immortal he really thought that you'd leave him because of that but instead you accepted him for it, it was the first time he felt so safe and scared, he didn't know what to call it.

Being adults with him was easier than you were young. You both were more mature and finally he doesn't try to find ways for you to leave him. You made him feel like it's okay for him to change, he doesn't really like the person he is as you both grew up but you'd always find ways to make him feel better and he appreciates you for that.

Though he is a known criminal, you'll never ever report him because you already accepted the path that he wanted to choose. You'll secretly meet him and catch up with him just to make sure that everything is going well and of course help each other with your next plans and goals in life.

: ̗̀➛ DAN HENG

Dan heng has changed so much ever since you were young, he went through so much and you couldn't blame him for it. All you did was stay and support him at all times.

As kids, Dan heng didn't really know why he became friends with you. One of his reasons was because you were great with arts and crafts and so that's how you played together as kids. He learned a lot from you that he used to only choose to hang out with you and ignore everyone else.

Growing up together felt like destiny, it was as if you both were made to have this kind of bond with each other but sooner, he changed. His identity was changed, he actually managed to run away from you and everyone. That time, you never stopped looking for him, it took you years to find him and you acted the same when you found him. After all, he's your best friend and nothing will change on how you see him even if he changed identities.

Adults, Dan heng would always let you stay by his side. He slowly learned to trust you too, you're not just good with arts but you're also good with words. For him, saying thank you wasn't enough. He didn't know that someone like you really did exist. Though you aren't part of their trio because you want to keep a simple life, you're always his guest and you loved travelling and visiting him.

Your soul is always attached to him, he feels the same way about whatever you feel about something. He tries to appreciate you the same way you do to him. He already ran away from you before so now he makes sure that he's making up for what he did before. He was really sweet and when he found out that you tried to look for him for years, he assured you that it won't happen ever again.

[fatuismooches]

So we all know that fragile!reader is always taking care of the other clones and trying their best to help despite their frail condition. And we all know that the clones are all different ages from Dottore’s life right? Well, what if there was a clone that looked like Dottore but when he was like 8-10?

Dottore most likely had made this clone to look like him as a child so it could easily deceive people. Despite this clone looking fairly young, his mind says otherwise…

And you, being the ever so caring individual and always trying your best to not be looked down upon or make the clones worry more over you, always bake them treats. (Of course with the help of at least a clone or two since a few years ago, you had tried to make your signature chocolate chip cookies alone as a treat for the clones, but you had ended up dropping and spilling a lot things that day. Leaving the clones to pick up your mess, which you profusely apologized for that day.)

However, whenever you bake treats, Dottore’s youngest clone, (Segment #78) which you nicknamed “Zandy” since he was so adorable! And well, calling him something like the others seemed wrong. So you have him a special name!

“Zandy” was usually always the one helping you bake these treats since he had such a sweet tooth. You didn’t mind him helping you out since while you both worked, he would tell you about some new concoction or experiment he’s done. And you can’t help but feel bittersweet as you’re reminded of back when it was just you and Zandik doing experiments. Well, mainly Zandik since he didn’t really let you touch his things before you got sick, and much less after you did get inflicted with your illness.

And the clones are all like a family despite threatening each other and biting at each others necks. But when you’re in the room all the clones focus their attention on you.

But…all the clones collectively dislike little “Zandy”. Since in your eyes, he could do no harm. But, whenever you’re not looking, he always gives them the most evilest grin ever. Especially since he’s the one who always gets cuddles from you and comfort since he’s “just a kid”. It makes them mad, of course. You even read him bed time stories whenever you aren’t too ill. Which in turn always makes the clones jealous since they too wish to be read a bed time story. To be able to hear your oh so sweet voice.

They too wish to be pampered. After all, if it means being able to get out of work and being able to stay glued to your side and help you with whatever tasks, then by all means they’re in for it. Especially since they all care deeply for little ol you. You’re just a sweet little thing that even if you got a paper cut they would literally tear down the world. (Literally)

So although you may be dependent on the clones and they all may be jealous of each other (and especially Zandy), they would still kill for you and try their best to make your life one worth living. Since after all, they don’t want to see the one person who has always cherished and cared for them be gone too soon…

Waaa I think this Drabble was messy n all over the place so I don’t think it turned all that great (˃̣̣̥⌓˂̣̣̥ ) I hope you and everyone else enjoy it though! Zandy would definitely be one of those kids who could have blood tainted on his clothes and you would worry thinking he got hurt instead. (Which he would definitely act as if he did, but do clones even have blood???) ( ´･ω･)…｡oо○

But I hope you have a lovely day and wonderful night! May you have sweet dreams for the rest of the year n get lots of chu chus and huggies!! Please take care of yourself I luv u sm I always get so giddy n excited whnever you respond to my little stories because seeing your amazing writing skills being added on to my stories make me roll all over on my bed hehe! making me blush !! ´･ᴗ･`

-from your dear littl boo boo🎐 anon

ଘ(✿˵•́ ᴗ •̀˵)

MY BOO BOO ILY... I LOVE SMOL DOTTORE SM 😭🫶

You loved all of Dottore’s clones. Though some in different ways than others. When you found out he had a clone of himself as a child, you were shocked! Despite being with him for so long, you have never even seen a picture of Zandik as a kid!

Zandy, as you’ve come to call him, was adorable. It was so funny to have to bend down to reach his height for once and be able to give him head pats. If you weren’t so weak, you could give him piggyback rides!  And he was so talkative and helpful. Showing off new recipes and even teaching you simpler ways to bake and use the equipment! It reminded you of how your own Zandik would show you life hacks back when you were students. Always telling you about the latest stuff, and also complaining to you how the older clones are “bullying” him (he wants you to yell at them.) Are the clones grown men? Yes. Are they jealous of a kid for stealing your attention. Also yes. Multiple times Zandy has tugged on your sleeve and pulled you away from them with the babiest eyes and then given the clones the wickedest grin. The clones have no way to fight back because of how much you dote on the bb.

Whenever you come into the room all movement and work stops and the clones just kinda, look at you and appreciate your existence. The regular Fatui workers are confused at first but they quickly connect the dots and realize you are the second Harbinger’s favored one. They are also at a loss because the clones give them a death glare if they don’t greet and treat you with respect but also get mad if they talk to you.

No because really, if you got hurt they’d be fighting over which clone has the chance to exact revenge, especially if another person hurt you. (Many clones have gotten in trouble for leaving their station to assist you with something. Even if your task takes one minute to complete, they will find a way to stretch it out in order to spend max time possible with you.) But they can’t be too mad at each other. The idea of you having to struggle with no help from them leaves an irritating sensation within them. They want your life to be as easy as possible, smooth and happy, at least until you get better and can stand on your own too feet. They love you very much <33

🎐 ANON THIS DRABBLE WAS LITERALLY AMAZING SHUSH 😭 I want to give Babyttore all the headpats. Reader would be the kind of person to think he can do no wrong. And maybe the clones don’t have like, actual red blood, but like… purple liquid lol. It really makes me think of how much clones Dottore has, it would be nice if we got a number one day lol. Anyway… *holds all the clones dearly* I love the idea of fragile! reader never being lonely because the lab is just so full of excitement when you’re around <3 They always have so much ideas to keep you occupied and they get so smug when you choose them <3 Also, the clones don't even need sleep but they are diving under the covers if it means you can read them a story !! 😭

*hugs you and cries* THANK YOU 🎐 ANON ILY… <33 Please take care of yourself too I love seeing your brain rots in my inbox!! You’re making me blush 🥺

[motherroam-rs]

Sleep Deprivation

Relationship: Hunter x Reader

Summary: In the search for Omega, Hunter struggles to sleep and needs a push to get some rest.

Warnings/Tags: Sleep Deprivation, Angst, Comfort, uhhh I think that’s everything

Word Count: 1.2k

Notes: The first 3 episodes have me in a chokehold, I wanna see Hunter happy again - Here’s a super short angsty lil comfort fic for Hunter set just before the beginning of episode 2 🫶🫶 Apologies for any grammatical errors!

Every noise in the Marauder seemed louder with just the three of you in it. Any hum, beep, and sigh seems to be amplified, even Gonkys small movements seemed to echo through the empty space just as loud as Wreckers snores.

Though, it’s not the only change. The ship seems too big now, and it’s hard to remember a time where it was so over-occupied that you would all fight over who got to sleep in a bunk for the night, and who had to use a sleep mat on the floor. Durasteel walls that previously made you all feel like fish packed together in a can, now seemed to stretch out impossibly, making it seem that you were planets away from the ships other two occupants.

Currently you’re sat in the co-pilot chair, preoccupied with your glitchy datapad, attempting to send an encrypted message to Echo for any updates from the clone network. You’re biting down on a sigh at how you wished Tech were here to fix it for you when Wrecker nudges your foot with his own.

You look up, puzzled at the man but your silent question is answered by the attempted jerk of his head. Behind you both sits Hunter, staring abysmally at the control board of flashing lights with his fist tightened around a horn from Roland Durand. The lights cast a harsh shadow on his features and your lips can’t help but work themselves into a frown at the dark circles beneath his eyes.

It had been well over 24 hours since he last slept.

Glitchy datapad now abandoned, you give a quick nod in thanks to Wrecker, before leaving the cockpit to approach Hunter. His chair doesn’t turn, and despite his enhanced senses and the lack of noise in the ship to cover your steps in any way, he gives no indication that he’s heard you. You follow his line of sight to both Tech’s goggles and Lula, both of the items bringing a pain to your chest.

“Hunter?” You press your hand to his armored shoulder, and he finally turns to look at you, slightly startled and you can’t even recall a time that you’ve ever caught him so off guard. Now that he’s facing you, the exhaustion is evident in more than just the dark circles under his eyes, his body seems to slump against the support of the chair in some sort of emotional defeat.

He’s been running himself into the ground over the last few days in pursuit of the Pyke needed in order to get the lead you had all been after, but at least you and Wrecker still managed to somewhat take care of your basic needs of sleep and rations.

Before you can speak, he turns back towards the controls, as if sensing what you were going to say about the neglect to his sleep schedule.

“Tech made this all seem… easy.” Gloved hands gesture to the console of flashing lights, his throat bobbing with a dry swallow as he shakes his head. “All of it takes me twice as long as it took him.”

Hunters hand pinches the bridge of his nose, the same way he does when he has an oncoming headache and your hand presses to the unarmoured section between his shoulder and neck, an area that is usually covered by his scarf. At the touch, his eyes close and lips part with a soft release of breath.

He needs to sleep.

“Come to bed, Hunter.” The whisper echoes through the too-quiet ship, amplified like every other noise, and for a moment it looks like he’s going to refuse. He doesn’t speak, but gives a slight nod of his head, and brushes your hand away to stand and begin removing his armor as he follows you on the way to your shared bunk.

After so long of racing to be the first one on the Marauder after a mission to secure your own bunk for a night, there was some sad irony in the fact that you now couldn’t sleep alone. Following the loss of Tech, and the painful absences of Omega and Echo, all attempts to adjust to the atmosphere of loneliness on the ship were almost painful.

At the start, you think you barely managed a standard 8 hours across 3 full day cycles, let alone in one night, and your restlessness didn’t go unnoticed by Hunter, who had probably slept even less than you. On the fourth night of staring at the ceiling and trying to muffle your quiet crying in the too-silent ship, he had abandoned his bunk beneath you and climbed into your own. His arms allowed you the comfort of not grieving alone that night, and almost every night since.

At some point, it delved into more than simply finding comfort in each other so you could both sleep, sending you far enough past the line of friends for Wrecker to tease you both in an attempt to lighten the heavy atmosphere in the Marauder.

Now only wearing the lower half of his blacks, Hunter lifts himself into the shared top bunk, and offers you a hand up, immediately pulling you into him once you’re safely up. In the small confines of the bunk, you’re entirely pressed to his firm body, yet he still holds you tightly against his bare chest as if fearing you’d slip away the moment his eyes closed.

He’s pulled the thin blanket over you both, but with the heat of his body it’s more than enough to keep you warm. “We’ll get her back.” You murmur against Hunters chest in assurance as one of his hands pulls your leg across his own, entangling the two of you together.

You feel his hand twitch against you, “It’s been a long time, and we still don’t know where she is, the only lead we can get right now is by handing over a Pyke to the Durand family.” His voice is heavy with exhaustion and you crane your neck up, lifting yourself from his chest to place your hand on his stubble covered jaw, forcing him to look at you.

“We’ll get her back, Hunter, but you need to sleep.” You lean in to press a kiss to the lips that seem to have set themselves into an ever present frown since that day on Ord Mantell.

Hunters hand presses to your face to mirror your own, his other arm tightening around your waist protectively as he kisses you back. Even when you pull away and rest your head back on his chest, his fingers continue to trace slow patterns on your waist, still refusing to let you go as he gives in to his tiredness.

You wait for his breathing to slow, ensuring he’s asleep before you allow yourself to close your eyes and follow him. In the night, you dream of living together in a house on Pabu, where the only echoing noise is Omegas laugh, where there are no empty spaces to make you feel lonely, and where Hunter can finally rest.