#i still think its fine but like it could be better

[luimagines]

PALWORLD Meets the Chain

Another Commission!

They wanted Twilight, Wild, and Sky with a Reader who comes from Palworld/interacting with the Pals. I hope I delivered it well enough because I know nothing of Palworld. Friends had to be consulted.

Masterlist

Content under the cut!

Wild

Wild was fascinated. 

There were no other words to describe what he was feeling. He knew, to a degree, that there were animals that one could train and use to help out with day to day life but you… You took it somehow to a whole other level.

The creature that followed you was a lot like the foxes that he saw in his world but the tail was concerningly on fire.

Wild watched you from the sidelines at the beginning. It didn’t last for very long. Without a word from anyone, you’d need only to snap your fingers and the little fire fox would run away, only to return with firewood, placed neatly into a pile by his foot.

“Sorry,” You’d say every time. “They like to be helpful. I didn’t think they’d pick on that you were about to start dinner yet.”

“It’s fine,” Wild would play along. “I don’t mind it. It saves the rest of us the trouble.”

Moving the little pile of wood was easy enough. Setting the stones around them for a proper fireplace was child’s play. Wild reached into his Sheikah Slate for some flint and a dagger to spark a small light. Without warning, the little fox had sneezed and set the little pile of wood into a small blaze.

Wild had froze, staring with awe at the sight in front of him. “...Well that was convenient.” 

The little fox looked proud of itself.

You laughed on the sidelines as the little fox-like creature trotted back up to your side. Wild watched as you pet the furry friend on the head, giving him little scratches behind the ear with a small giggle on your lips as you did so. His finger slips in his distraction and he nicks the tip of his thumb with his knife.

Biting back the curse before anyone could notice, he bit his nail and quickly took care of the sharp stinging pain before blood would weep from the cut.

“Are you ok, Champion?” You asked him, turning to him after the commotion he’s caused.

“Oh, yeah, of course, never better.” He lies with ease. It’s a shame he’s such an obvious liar. Wild’s left ear twitched at the thought. He’s not fond of being caught in broad daylight, however, so he’s quick to change the subject. “What did you want for dinner?”

“Anything would suffice,” You said with a dazzling smile that left Wild momentarily distracted. He failed to notice that the little fox was slowly making its way back to Wild. “You know I’m not picky. I’ll take whatever you’re willing to make. You’re a great cook.”

He tries to give you his flattest look, but the mirth is still on his lips. “I appreciate the compliment but that doesn’t really help me with ideas.” Taking out the cutting board, Wild looked through his slate for a moment, trying to think of what he could make on such short notice. It had been a while since they’d stocked up on food. He was running low. “Chicken?”

He took out a few pieces and placed them on the cutting board. “And come potatoes and carrots?”

“Works for me!” You cheered. 

“Perfect.” Wild grinned and began to take out as many potatoes as his hands could carry.

“How come you never ask us what we want to eat?” Warrior called out from somewhere behind him. “We can give you ideas too you know.”

“I don’t need to ask you,” Wild deadpans, switching to the carrots. “You lot just yell at me what you want to eat while we walk or in the middle of battle.”

“You could still do us the courtesy of asking us-”

“Wild look out!” You cried.

Wild perked up but it was too late. A flash of orange zipped past his leg and away from the cooking fire, sitting itself as far as possible to enjoy the stolen treat. Wild looked back to the cutting board at once and scowled.

“It stole the chicken!” He shouted, outraged and indignant.

You started laughing.

Twilight

Twilight liked to consider himself a man who wasn’t afraid of anything.

When shadows overtook his homeland, he didn’t want his fear to override his need for justice. His loyalty to his friends was second to none and wasn’t about to sit back and allow anything bad to happen to the people he cared about.

When the dust had settled and the light came back, he wasn’t as surprised as perhaps he should have been when the first portal appeared. Without thinking much about the consequences, he went through it, assured that whatever was about to meet him on the other side was messing with things it shouldn’t.

Which brought him to this moment.

A large dog-like creature growled at him, poised to attack at any moment.

He nearly snarled back, reaching behind to grab his sword. Twilight never liked the idea of hurting animals but he wasn’t about to let this canine have his way with him. The creature was larger than he was as a wolf. The maw, legs, tail, and second portion of the mane were white. The rest of the beast was as black as night.

“No!” You screamed from the other side of the trail. “Don’t hurt my Direhowl!”

“How about he doesn’t hurt me instead?” Twilight yelled back, not once taking his eyes off of the Direhowl in front of him.

“Sorry! Sorry!” You say again, running up to him and taking the beast by the scruff of the neck. “I thought he wouldn’t be like this after a while but I guess it’s because you’re a new face. I’m sorry.”

“I don’t he’d be as sorry as you are.” Twilight bared his teeth ever so slightly.

“Bad dog!” You shout.

Both Twilight and the Direhowl perked up at the words and turned to look at you. You were glaring down at the creature, who, to Twilight’s amusement, began to look rather sheepish. His amusement quickly turned to subtle embarrassment when he realized that he was just as affected by your tone as the canine in front of him.

Twilight put his sword back in its sheath.

Clearing his throat with a cough, Twilight patted down his clothes and rubbed his palms. “If that’s everything, I’m going to check the perimeter.”

“Yeah… Yeah, good idea. Again, I’m really sorry about all this-”

He holds up his hand. “Don’t worry about it. No harm done. Just keep a tighter leash on him.”

He leaves it at that, walking far away to be out of earshot. Without thinking twice, Twilight takes out the shadow crystal and transforms into his wolf body. As per usual, his senses change. Colors were no longer as vibrant, his sense of smell strengthened tenfold, his hearing tripled in range, and his vision both sharpened and lowered to the ground.

He began his trip around the perimeter checking for various signs of mischief or danger if possible. It was old hat for him and he thanked the golden three above that there was nothing to report back on once his check was complete.

That is until he heard a now familiar growl.

He growled back without question, poising his body onto the ground to strike if the Direhowl tried anything. “Oh stop it!” He snarled. “You’re not the biggest beast here.”

“Big words for a tiny dog.” The voice responded. It was deeper than Twilight anticipated for his wolf ears. The Direhowl walked in front of him. “Am I supposed to feel threatened?” 

“If you kill me, the others will never forgive you.” Twilight tries a different approach. Because yes, he was, in fact, bigger than him even in this form. “And they’ll take your human and kick them out for the group for treachery.”

That seems to set the Direhowl back a few steps. His loyalty was also unquestionable.

“They wouldn’t.”

“They would.”

A pregnant pause followed before the Direhowl sat down instead. “You’re the one they call Rancher.”

Twilight followed his example and sat down as well with a nod. “I am.”

“...I don’t like you.” The Direhowl glares. “But my human likes you. So I suppose that’s enough to save your skin.”

Twilight had to fight not to roll his eyes. “Charming. I’m forever grateful.” 

Sky 

“This is awesome!” You shout as you fly through the skies around Skyloft.

Sky laughed and followed you, playfully getting a bit closer than strictly necessary. The heat of your bird was undeniable. Sky could feel the heat of the feathers on his cheek. His loftwing was off-put, unsure about the lack of safe space from the creature beside it. 

You pushed off, giving him space to fly in the direction with an indignant squawk. “Hey!”

Sky laughed.

Laughing yourself, you also push him in the air, his loftwing banking left to keep a safe distance between the two of you. “Hey now!” Sky shouted, a large smile on his face. “That’s not fair. Are you trying to set us on fire?”

It’s a tease. He’s well aware that he started it.

Without replying, you bank off to the right and land your bird on one of the many smaller islands around Skyloft. Sky followed you, landing a considerable distance away so that your bird didn’t bother his loftwing. You had warned him before you both set off for the flight that he was aggressive and prone to attack on sight.

As much as Sky trusted you and trusted your judgment, he didn’t want any harm coming to his loftwing.

“Was he getting tired?” Sky asked once the birds were settled. He tossed some treats to distract the loftwing and keep his energy up before jogging to close the distance. “I have extra fruits if that’s what he eats.”

The bird hissed as Sky got close. He paused in his tracks, not taking his eyes off of the volatile bird.

“No, no, no,” You wave him off with a slightly embarrassed smile. “He’s a ragnahawk. I found him living in a volcano and his kind only eats rocks. I have a few in my bag.”

“I’m sorry-” Sky reels back for a moment. “Did I just hear you correctly?”

“Yes. Rocks.” You giggle. “Don’t worry, he has the stomach to handle it.”

“...Right.” Sky awkwardly pockets the snacks once more. Clearing his throat, Sky looked up at the red bird as you tossed it rocks once at a time. He admired the feathers. The colors were much like those of his loftwing’s but the tips of the wings were completely yellow with black lines on the edges. The sickening crunching sound was a little offputting but there was an unmistakable birdy joy as it ate its treats. “So long he’s being taken care of, I suppose.” 

“What does your bird eat?” You pocketed the last of the “snacks” and turned back to Sky. “I doubt it’s rocks like this beast.” You use your eyes to gesture back to the ragnahawk with a bright smile on your face.

Sky shrugs. “Fruit mostly. But they live on their own islands. So we’re not entirely sure what it is that they eat. We just know they usually accept our treats when we give them. Each one has their own taste, though. They’re a bit picky like that.”

You nod. The information sounds familiar. “Each has their own personality. I can respect that.”

The silence turns comfortable as you both look out to the expanse of the Skyloft and the surrounding islands. You let out a wistful sigh and step forward. “Your world is beautiful. I didn’t think I’d ever get to see anything like it.”

“It’s not much,” Sky smiles bashfully. “The surface world has much more to offer than our little island.”

“Nonsense, I like this.” You turned to him. “Will you show me more?”

“Of course! Is your bird ready to fly again?”

“Ready whenever you are!”

Sky laughed, jumping off of the ledge “Perfect! Let’s go!”

[starrysan]

nouvelle vague

↳ ᴀʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ʙᴏʀᴇᴅ? [12]

pairing: korea local!yunho x new to city!reader [smau]

masterlist || prev chap || next chap

third person pov

y/n was working at their desk when they were called into their bosses office. “you asked for me?” when say walking into the office and sitting down. “yes i did” the boss hums typing on her computer. she gestures for them to have a seat though they were already seated.

"you've been here a few months now, yes?" she asks. "yes I have" y/n replies. "im sorry.. did I do something wrong? I thought I reported everything in a timely mann-" y/n starts. "nothing like that" their boss assures them.

"you've been doing great. really incredibly" their boss continues. "its not confirmed but we may move you back to the Australia branch" she drops finally to which y/n freezes on the spot. "i.. im sorry what?" y/n makes sure they heard her correctly. "the employment isn't going as well there since to be honest we moved a lot of people abroad this quarter" their boss continues.

"I was told i'd be here for minimum a year its barely been 8 months" y/n says in disbelief. "I know.. im sorry" the boss replies though it honestly didn't seem that convincing. y/n leaves the office in defeat. it of course wasn't confirmed but the fact that it could happen made them freak out.

they tried texting yunho who wasn't responding again but he's busy they shouldn't bother him its fine. they texted chris for a bit, texted san as well. started getting worried about yunho since he wasn't responding and started freaking out about their job again. they panic FaceTimed chris who picked up immediately.

"everything ok?" chris asked through the phone to which he got a quick "no" from y/n. they re-explain everything their boss had told them "I miss you so much but I also love Korea so much now and I know nothings confirmed but im still scared" y/n rambles. "everythings going to all work out y/n don't worry" chris reassures them.

"I know.. im sorry I shouldn't be freaking out right now" y/n sighs. "don't apologize" chris hums. "I cant confirm what will happen of course but youre strong y/n it'll all work out and be okay" chris finishes. "thanks chris" y/n says.

the two hang up the call and y/n goes back to trying to test yunho with no success. he was at work for another couple hours but they thought he'd at least be able to look at his texts. maybe he was sick of them already.

they tried not to think that way but it only made the thoughts they had in the back of their head stronger. he didn't really like them did he? who were they kidding.. he was too busy for someone as high maintenance as they were. they should have known he'd get tired of them.

maybe he was ignoring them to send them a message without actually telling them. that had to be it? did they do something wrong? did they screw up that bad that he didn't even want to talk to them. all these thoughts rushed into their head till they got an abrupt phone call from mingi that broke them from their thoughts.

"hi mingi" they say picking up the call. "y/nnnnn" mingi says excitedly. "what's up? hope im not bothering you I know you have work right now" he giggles over the phone. to not let him know the anguish they were going through they pretended everything was completely fine. "hi mingi" they chuckle. "yeah im good what's up?"

"just wanted to call you its been a hot minute want to hang out later?" he asks, y/n hears yeosang's distant voice telling him not to bother them at work. "tell yeosang I say hello" y/n hums. "sang y/n says heyy" mingi practically yells. "hi y/n" yeosang chimes in.

y/n got off the phone in a bit of a better mood. mingi always had that charm of helping them feel better. they decide not to think about the potential doom of leaving Korea and head home for the night. they send one last text to yunho wishing him goodnight before crashing and falling asleep.

a notification chimes just as they're falling asleep, from yunho..

extras!

y/n overthinks a lot

mingi #1 y/n cheer upper!

ty for reading!

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[hihomeghere]

Prompt 53 and 45 with javier?

Word Count : 1.2k

Warnings/tags : Cursing, angst, happy ending

Prompt: "You heard me. Take. It. Off.” "Do I look like I’ve moved on?”

Divider by @saradika

I couldn’t wait until tomorrow, so y’all get it a day early

Sean was back, which was cause for celebration. Everyone’s spirits were high, if not by the great news then by the copious amounts of alcohol that were flowing through camp. A slight chill blew through camp as the sun descended past the horizon. You could hardly feel it, your cheeks flushed from the beer you had gleefully partaken in. 

It felt good, having something to celebrate after all the damn hardship you’d been dealing with. The mess that happened back in Blackwater, on the run from the law and Pinkertons alike. Even if what you were celebrating was the return of a foul-mouthed Irish man, instead of some prodigal son. Although if you asked Dutch, they were one in the same. The evening had been going so well you had almost forgotten about Javier. Almost. But that infectious melody from his guitar strings had managed to wind its way over to where you were sitting. You could even hear it over Dutch’s gramophone. His voice carried through camp, as he spoke words you couldn’t quite understand, but ones that you could feel. Ones that made your heart clench painfully in your chest. 

You tried to better your mood, uncapping another bottle as you watched Karen and Sean. A small smile tugged at your lips, you were happy for her, truly. Even if she cursed his name half the time, you could see how much she loved the man. And he seemed to be pretty smitten with her, too. Told half the camp in too much detail about how he felt for her, well what he’d do to her. 

A bitter feeling started to settle in your belly as you took another swig, your own romantic predicament weighing heavily on your mind. 

Javier.

You huffed, pushing yourself off the crate you were sitting on. Perhaps you just had to get closer to the gramophone to fully block out his voice. You plopped yourself down on the grass in front of Dutch’s tent. Nursing your beer as Dutch spun Molly around.

“Lookin’ a little down there miss.” Arthur’s voice rang out, an easy smile on his lips. “Up we go” He said, holding out his hand for you to take. You sighed, letting him pull you to your feet. “Reckon you’ve had about enough of this.” He said, gently taking the bottle out of your grasp. 

“Arthur.” You huffed, shooting him your best glare. 

“Excuse me.” He chuckled, holding up a hand in surrender. “Would a dance make it up to ya?” He asked. You hummed, pretending to mull it over.

“Alright, fine. But only because you look so terribly lonely.” You said, your words relating to your own situation rather than his.

“Unfortunately miss, that is too true.” He said with a small chuckle, spinning you around in a small circle. 

“Why ain’t you dancing with someone you like?” You asked, your hand returning to his shoulder.

“I like you, now don’t I?” He said with a small pout.

“You know what I mean.” You said, rolling your eyes.

“Well I could ask you the same question.” He said with an amused huff.

“I don’t like anyone in camp.” You huffed, wishing you hadn’t said anything at all. Arthur had a way of drawing the truth out of you, too much like Hosea in that regard.

“You and Javier still hung up on that little quarrel?” He asked, furrowing his brows. “Life’s too short.” He shook his head, “One of you's got to be the bigger person here. Don’t let something as stupid as pride keep ya from each other.” You pursed your lips, avoiding his eyes as you danced. You knew he was right, you still loved Javier, even if he was a bastard sometimes. 

“You outta be wearin’ a coat, don’t need ya getting sick.” He sighed, pulling away from you to shrug off his jacket. He placed it around your shoulders, pulling you into his side. “Think we got ourselves an audience.” He mummured into your ear, your eyes flicked upwards. You hadn’t noticed a certain guitar had stopped playing. You caught Javier’s piercing gaze, his lips pulled down in a frown. Arthur kissed your forehead before pulling away, and you swore you saw fire dance in his dark eyes. You tore your eyes away from him, walking towards the Pearsons wagon. You had to get something in your belly before the night was over, or you knew you’d regret it in the morning. But with the amount of butterflies currently swarming in your stomach, eating was the last thing you wanted to do. 

“Take it off.” You jumped, turning to find Javier standing a few feet from you. His arms crossed over his chest as he glared at you.

“Pardon me?” You asked, furrowing your brows as you tried to calm your racing heart.

“You heard me. Take. It. Off.” His tone was indisputable, his dark eyes shooting straight through you. You had once upon a time loved that they seemed to see through you, able to pull you apart at the seams. Now you just wished he’d look away. 

“The hell are you talking about?” You huffed, crossing your arms. 

“La chaqueta- the jacket.” He huffed, throwing his hand up. Irritation laced in his tone. You wrinkled your nose, looking down at yourself. Why did he want you to take it off so bad? “So Arthur’s your new lover, hm?” He growled, his eyes narrowing.

“My new lover?-“ You scoffed, shaking your head, “Do I look like I’ve moved on?”

“It seems pretty clear to me.” He huffed, motioning to his coat. 

“Oh lord, it was cold! It is cold. He was being a gentleman.” You threw up your hands, rolling your eyes. The two of you glared at each other, the air thickening as though a lightning storm was brewing. You gave in, shrugging off Arthur’s coat. “There, happy?” You asked, folding his coat under your arm. His lip twitched, but he didn’t say anything. “Unbelievable.” You muttered, pushing past him. His hand shot out, wrapping around your wrist. 

“If you were cold you should have come to me.” He huffed.

“And why’s that?” You snapped, “You made it clear there was nothing between us.”

“There is everything between us!” He said, tightening his grip on your wrist. Not enough to hurt, but enough to make sure you couldn’t escape from the conversation. “Everything. You have crawled under my skin, where I go- you go. Stealing my heart away like a damn thief in the night.” He was rambling, the words spilling front his lips like water from a font. “I wake and my first thought is of you. I cannot eat, drink, rest, without thinking of you. So do not tell me there is nothing between us.” His chest was heaving with each breath, his eyes wild as he stared at you. 

You threw yourself forward, crashing your lips against his. His facial hair tickled your lip, your hands grasping his face as you pulled him closer. He wasted no time in reciprocating your actions, his hands gripped your waist, holding you tightly against him. You only parted for air, panting as you pressed your forehead against his. 

“You are a foolish man.” You whispered breathlessly, looking up into his mocha eyes.

“For you? Always.”

[jetii]

Event Horizon

Chapter Twenty-Six: Endurance

Chapter WC: 8,685

A/N: This chapter was supposed to just be about the boys, but I couldn't help but throw in a little extra treat. Also I'm going to put up a poll about the cover of this fic today, please vote if you can!

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Hyperspace, 21 BBY

After a whirlwind of meetings and introductions, and far too much talking, you were finally aboard the Oracle and on your way to Bothawui. You’d never in your life met so many people in such a short time, and while you were sure some would argue that was part of being a general, you couldn't help but feel drained and exhausted by the constant barrage of faces and names.

Thankfully, Booker was there to help, acting as a buffer between you and the rest of the world. He was surprisingly good at it, keeping everyone at arm's length while still making it seem like you were the friendliest and most approachable general anyone had ever met. It was a skill you had no idea he possessed, and one you were more than happy to take advantage of. The men respected him, and as far as you could tell, they didn't resent your presence. Even if you were starting to become undeniably cranky and snappy.

After a day and a half, however, things had finally begun to settle down, and the routine had started to take hold. You were still meeting and greeting and making friends, but the constant barrage of faces was finally becoming manageable, and the ship's crew and officers had stopped jumping at the chance to shake your hand. And while the men were still eager to introduce themselves, the novelty of a new general had begun to wear off. Which was a relief, considering how little sleep you'd gotten in the last forty-eight hours.

"What about green?" Booker asks, his gaze never leaving the datapad in his hands. "That would look good."

You give a noncommittal hum from somewhere in your chest and shift in your seat, trying desperately to get comfortable. The two of you have been in the conference room for the better part of the evening, discussing everything from supplies to battle strategies. And while you were enjoying his company and the chance to talk, it's getting late, and your body is screaming at you to rest.

“That’s fine,” you mumble, stifling a yawn.

“Or maybe something darker. Black?”

“Great.”

You close your eyes and lean back, the soft whirring of the ventilation system a welcome distraction. You listen to the gentle rhythm, the sound slowly fading into the background as your thoughts begin to drift.

The last couple of days had gone by in a blur, and it was only now that you were finally able to slow down and catch your breath. There had been a dozen meetings, a hundred questions, and a thousand decisions, and it was starting to take its toll. You hadn't realized exactly how much planning went into war until now, and the grey hairs starting to sprout from Obi-Wan's temples are beginning to make a lot more sense to you.

Your thoughts turn to him, and you can't help but wonder how he's doing. The two of you had spoken a few times, the conversation focused more on your respective divisions and the status of the war than anything else. You’d tried to keep the tone light, avoiding the topic of what had happened between the two of you. But even the briefest mention of Rex had caused a flash of sadness to pass over his face, and a twinge of guilt had twisted your gut.

The two of you were struggling, but both of you were trying your best to move past it. That was all that mattered. At least for now.

As for Rex, you'd messaged him a few times since you left, but the two of you had yet to have a chance to comm each other. The men had kept you busy, and he'd had his hands full with the 501st. As much as it pained you to admit, the distance was probably for the best. At least until you figured out exactly what it was that you were doing. Or rather, what it was that you were not doing.

“…And I was thinking I could paint a giant target on my armor and put myself on the front line. What do you think about that, sir?"

You blink, snapping back to the present, the image of Rex's face fading away. You glance at Booker to see he's staring at you, his eyebrows raised expectantly.

"Uh, sorry, what was that?" you ask. Booker lets out a dramatic sigh and sets his datapad on the table.

"I was just saying how nice it is to have a general who listens," he drawls. "Really pays attention to every single word."

"I'm listening," you mumble, stifling a yawn.

"Right," he replies. He crosses his arms, his gaze never leaving your face. "You're tired."

"I'm fine," you tell him. The lie is weak, even to your own ears, and you let out a frustrated groan, running a hand over your face. "Okay, yeah, I'm tired. Sorry. I just—"

"Need some sleep?" Booker finishes, his voice gentle. You shake your head, rubbing the exhaustion out of your eyes.

"No, no," you mutter. "It's fine. We can keep going."

He leans forward, resting his forearms on the table, and gives you a look. It’s not quite a glare, but it's close, and it’s so like Rex that it's startling. For a second, you're thrown back to the night in your quarters, Rex kneeling in front of you, the two of you staring at each other as he gently coaxed you into letting him take care of you. Then his words, his reminder to focus on your men and not your demons, ring through your mind. And suddenly, you're feeling a little less stubborn. A little more open to listening.

"Fine," you grumble, crossing your arms. "What do you want?"

"For you to get some rest," he says. You frown, and he holds up a hand, his expression shifting to a stern look. "Sir, you've been up for 16 hours.”

“I haven’t—“

“I’ve been keeping track," he tells you, cutting you off. "And as much as I enjoy your company, the men need you well-rested and alert. Not half-dead and sleep deprived."

Your jaw clenches, the urge to argue rising, but you force it back down. You know he's right, and the fact that he's willing to call you out on it, no matter how gently, is a testament to his character. And as much as you hate to admit it, you can feel the fatigue beginning to creep in, the desire to curl up and hide tugging at the edges of your consciousness.

You give a small sigh, and he flashes you a smile.

"Alright," you relent. "I'll turn in."

You stand and stretch, letting out a soft groan. Your spine pops, and you roll your shoulders, working the kinks out of your neck. You can't help but feel a little embarrassed by the fact that Booker has been keeping tabs on your habits, and while part of you wants to call him out for it, the other part of you is grateful for the concern. And you suppose that a man who's always looking out for his brothers will most likely be just as vigilant about looking out for his superior officers. Just as Rex was. Is. Will be.

The thought of the Captain sends a stab of pain through your chest, and you grimace, forcing the memory aside.

"Are you sure there isn't anything else?" you ask. You gesture towards the datapad on the table. "There's still a lot we have to go through."

"I'm sure. Besides, I'd rather you be well-rested for drills tomorrow."

You frown, the comment catching you off guard. "Drills? Tomorrow?"

"Yeah," he says as he stands and walks around the table, stopping beside you. "Figured it'd be a good idea. Get a feel for the men. See how they perform."

"I don't—"

"You're their commanding officer, sir," he interrupts, and he rests a hand on your shoulder. "You need to know what they're capable of. So do I. And the best way to find out is by putting them through their paces. That way, we can make sure they're prepared."

His tone is light, almost teasing, but his words are serious, and there's a glint in his eye that leaves no room for argument. And as much as you want to protest, the truth is that he's right. You need to see the men in action, to test their abilities. To see where their strengths and weaknesses lie. And the only way to do that is by testing them yourself.

You let out a resigned sigh and offer a small, grateful smile.

"I guess I'm gonna need to get some rest, huh?"

"That's the plan," Booker says. His hand slides off your shoulder, and he reaches over, picking up the datapad. "C’mon. I’ll walk you back to your quarters."

The two of you start down the hall, and Booker continues to fill you in on the details, his words fading into the background as your mind starts to drift. You're barely listening, and the only thing you can focus on is the gentle rumble of his voice and the sound of his footsteps beside you.

He seems different somehow, a little more serious, a little more thoughtful. You can tell the reality of command is settling over him, and while you're sure he's struggling with the responsibility, you can't help but be impressed by his composure. It's as if his personality has shifted, the uncertain, reckless cadet morphing into a more serious, responsible soldier. He's taking his role seriously, and the thought is comforting.

As the two of you round the corner, your comm chimes, the sudden sound making you jump. You stop and pull the device out, checking the message.

Rex: Hey. How's it going?

Your heart stutters in your chest, and for a moment, all you can do is stare at the screen. Then, with a sharp breath, you type out a response, your fingers flying across the keys.

You: Good. Busy. Tired. But good. You?

Rex’s answer comes almost immediately.

Rex: Same. Glad to hear it's going well.

There's a pause, and a new message appears.

Rex: Can we talk?

Your heart leaps into your throat, and a flood of emotions wash over you. Excitement, anxiety, fear, anticipation, they all crash over you, a tidal wave threatening to drown you.

You type out a response, hesitating before hitting send.

You: Of course.

Another message pops up.

Rex: Comm me in 15 minutes. Don't forget.

You let out a quiet laugh, and you glance up, realizing Booker is staring at you, a small smile on his face. You flush, embarrassed, and you slide the comm back into your pocket, clearing your throat.

"Sorry," you mutter. "That was a friend."

"A friend, huh?" Booker asks, his tone teasing.

"Yes, a friend," you reply, giving him a sharp look.

"Well, your friend should have waited until morning," he tells you. "You need rest."

"He knows," you say, your voice softer than intended. Booker raises an eyebrow, and he glances at the pocket where your comm is sitting. Then his expression changes, a knowing smile spreading across his face.

"Ah," he says. "I get it."

You feel your cheeks burn, and you turn, continuing down the hall. He's following, his strides long and easy. You can feel his eyes on the back of your head, and the urge to snap at him is strong. But the truth is, you don't have the energy, and you're too focused on the promise of speaking with Rex to care.

You turn down another corridor, and Booker falls back into step beside you. He’s still watching you, but he doesn't speak, and you're thankful for the respite. You need a few moments to compose yourself, to collect your thoughts, to calm the flurry of emotions running rampant through your body.

Finally, you come to a stop in front of the door leading to your quarters, and you turn, looking up at him.

"Thank you," you tell him, your tone sincere. He grins, and he gives a slight nod.

"You're welcome, sir," he says. "Get some rest. Try not to stay up too late."

"What—"

Booker turns on his heel, waving a hand over his shoulder. "Have a good night, sir. I'll see you bright and early tomorrow."

Before you can respond, he's gone, disappearing around the corner, leaving you standing alone in the empty hallway. For a moment, all you can do is stare, and it's only the sudden chime of the chronometer that snaps you out of it. You pull the comm out of your pocket and unlock the door, stepping into your quarters and typing a quick message.

You: I'm here. Are you ready?

A response appears a few seconds later.

Rex: Whenever you are.

You take a deep breath, trying to calm the pounding of your heart, and you tap the button on the screen, connecting the call. There's a second of static, and then the sound of Rex's voice fills the room, his tone warm and familiar.

"Hi."

The single word is enough to make you smile, and you settle on the edge of your bed, taking a moment to steady yourself.

"Hey," you say. "It's good to hear your voice."

"You too," he replies. There's a slight hesitation, and you can hear the sound of him taking a breath. Then, a hint of worry in his tone. "Is everything alright?"

"Yes," you reply. You let out a quiet laugh. "Why wouldn't it be?"

"You've been busy," he replies. There's another pause, and the air shifts, a feeling of apprehension falling over the conversation. "I didn't want to interrupt. Thought you might be getting tired of hearing from me."

"I'm never tired of hearing from you," you tell him, and the words are out of your mouth before you realize what you're saying. You blush, heat spreading across your face, and you're glad he can't see you. "I mean...it's nice. Talking to you."

You wince at the words, a flash of embarrassment rushing through you. That didn't come out right, either. You've barely said anything and you've already made a mess of things. And if the awkward silence coming from the comm is any indication, he's not taking it well.

But as the moment stretches, a spark of frustration ignites inside of you. It's not as if anything has changed between the two of you. Yes, the conversation is a bit uncomfortable, but that's only because you're trying so hard to keep things platonic. If you'd simply act natural, relax, let the conversation flow naturally, it wouldn't be so hard.

You take a deep breath and let the annoyance fade, replacing it with determination. You're not going to let this become a barrier between the two of you. If he can talk to you as a friend, so can you. And if that's all you can be, well, that's fine.

Besides, there's no reason why the two of you can't enjoy each other's company. Even if it's not quite what you want, even if it's not the kind of relationship you crave, the time spent together is still meaningful. It still matters. It's still something that brings you both comfort and joy.

And if the friendship is enough, well, that's better than nothing.

"I agree," Rex says, breaking the silence. His voice is gentle, and you can almost hear the smile in his words. "Even if you do sound tired."

You roll your eyes, letting out a scoff as you lean down and start to undo the buckles on your boots. "I'm not that tired."

"Sure," he drawls.

"I'm not," you reply, a slight note of indignation in your voice.

"Then why are you taking off your boots?"

You pause, caught off guard by the question. "How did—?"

"I can hear the buckles," he says, a hint of amusement in his voice. "It's pretty loud."

You let out a quiet sigh, your cheeks burning, and you set your boots aside. Your armor comes next, then your belt and tabards. The weight disappears from your shoulders, and you lean back, lying on the bed and staring up at the ceiling.

"Alright, maybe I'm a little tired," you admit. You close your eyes, enjoying the feeling of the mattress against your back.

"Just a little," he teases.

"Shut up," you mumble, a small grin on your face. "You know you're just as bad."

"I never claimed otherwise," he says, and you can hear the smile in his voice. "How're things? The new legion treating you well?"

You close your eyes and let out a quiet hum, shifting into a more comfortable position. You can hear the concern in his voice, and you're glad that he's checking up on you. Even if it's for a brief moment.

"They're great," you answer, your voice soft. "A little eager, but that's expected. We're working through it."

Rex chuckles. "Sounds about right. Give 'em a few weeks. They'll figure it out."

"I hope so," you reply.

There's a moment of silence, and you find yourself drifting, the warmth and safety of your quarters lulling you into a sense of comfort. You yawn, your body sinking deeper into the bed, the weariness of the past few days beginning to catch up to you. You know you should get ready for bed, should take a shower and brush your teeth and change into something more comfortable, but the thought of moving is too exhausting.

"I can let you go, if you want," Rex offers, and the hint of reluctance in his voice makes you smile. "I know you're tired."

"No, I'm fine," you say. You open your eyes, blinking away the fatigue. "I'd rather talk to you. Even if I'm half-asleep."

Rex lets out a soft chuckle. "That doesn't bode well for the conversation."

"Doesn't matter," you murmur. "I like talking to you."

There's a pause, and you can practically hear the surprise in his voice. "Yeah?"

You let out a snort, and you roll onto your side, pulling the blanket up over yourself. "Yes, Rex, I like talking to you. A lot."

The admission leaves your mouth before you can stop it, and you're suddenly grateful that he can't see the blush that spreads across your face. You wince, the embarrassment hitting you full force. Maybe the lack of sleep is affecting you more than you thought. You should have kept your mouth shut. At least until you weren't half-delirious.

"I like talking to you too," Rex replies, his voice soft.

"Good," you say. You take a deep breath and close your eyes, settling in. "Then let's talk. Tell me how the 501st is doing."

Rex begins to tell you about the men, his voice low and soothing. The new men he picked up on Kamino, his concerns about their training, the adjustments he's made to the command structure. He keeps the details light, avoiding anything too technical, and his words drift through the room, lulling you into a drowsy, contented state.

After a while, he trails off, and a moment of silence settles over the call.

"Are you still awake?"

"Mhm," you murmur, the sound muffled by the pillow. "Just resting my eyes."

"Right," he says, the doubt in his voice apparent. There's another pause, and you can hear him shift, his breath catching slightly. "Do you... do you mind if I keep talking?"

You give a slight shake of your head. "No, not at all."

"Alright," he says. Another pause, and the hesitance is back. As if he's worried about saying something wrong. Something that will break the spell. "I don't want to keep you up."

"I'm listening," you assure him.

He lets out a quiet sigh, and he falls silent. For a moment, you wonder if the call has dropped, or if the connection is bad, or if the battery on his comm has died. But just as the thought enters your mind, his voice cuts through the darkness, soft and gentle.

"I've missed you," he admits. "More than I expected."

Your chest tightens, and you open your eyes, staring up at the ceiling. It's strange, how a few words can cause such a visceral reaction, but the feeling is undeniable. It's as if a part of you is waking up, stretching, reaching for something.

It's only been a few days since you've seen him, but the longing is already setting in. The need to see his face. Hear his voice. Feel his presence. It's a need that grows stronger with every passing moment.

"I've missed you too," you reply, your voice a whisper. "More than I probably should."

Rex lets out a short, humorless laugh. "Yeah."

There's another moment of silence, and you find yourself drifting, your thoughts beginning to slow. It's only the sound of his voice that keeps you from falling asleep, and you can't help but wonder if he's doing the same. If he's staying awake just to listen to the sound of your breathing.

"Are you still with me?" he asks.

"Yeah," you mumble, turning onto your side. You adjust the pillow, propping it up, and curl onto your side, hugging the soft fabric. You can feel sleep starting to claim you, and you're not sure how long you'll be able to fight it. "I'm here."

"You should get some sleep," he says, his voice gentle. "You're gonna need it."

You hum softly, closing your eyes and letting the darkness consume you. "Only if you promise to stay with me. Until I fall asleep."

There's a brief pause, and a wave of self-consciousness rushes through you. But before the doubt can take root, he speaks.

"I'm not going anywhere," he says, his voice warm. You can hear the smile in his words, and the tightness in your chest loosens, a feeling of calm washing over you. "Close your eyes. Get comfortable."

You let out a quiet hum and obey, snuggling deeper into the blankets, pulling the sheets up around your shoulders. You can hear the soft sound of his breathing, the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest. He's lying in bed too, just as tired and worn out as you are, his comm tucked under his ear.

For a moment, neither of you speak, and the quiet that surrounds you is comforting, a blanket of calm settling over the room. It's nice, being able to simply exist, to be alone with each other, no words needed. And while it's not exactly the same as being in the same place, being in the same bed, it's enough. For now.

Finally, he breaks the silence, his voice a low rumble. "Can I ask you something?"

"Mhm."

"Do you think..." He trails off, his words fading. You open your eyes and peer at the comm, waiting for him to continue. When he does, his voice is hesitant. "Do you think the war will ever end?"

The question catches you off guard, and for a moment, all you can do is blink, trying to process his words. In truth, you're not sure if the war will ever end. There's a part of you that hopes so, a part of you that wants peace more than anything, but there's a darker, more cynical part of you that's beginning to doubt it. That's beginning to wonder if the fighting will ever end. Or if the galaxy will be trapped in a never-ending cycle of war and destruction.

You let out a small sigh, closing your eyes once more.

"I don't know," you murmur. "But I hope so."

"Yeah," Rex replies, his tone distant. "Me too."

There's a brief silence, and you can hear the sound of fabric shifting. You imagine him rolling onto his side, adjusting his blankets, getting comfortable. Then he clears his throat, his voice barely audible.

"If it does end, though, I..." He trails off, and a slight note of uncertainty creeps into his tone. "I mean, will we...?"

He doesn't finish, and the question hangs in the air, unspoken. Will we still see each other? Will we stay friends? Will we still talk? Will we still care about each other? The thoughts race through your mind, and a knot forms in your stomach, the possibilities making you dizzy. You can't bear the thought of losing him, of losing what you have, and the mere idea of him not being a part of your life makes your chest ache.

The truth is, you need him. You need him in a way that's different from anyone else. A way that's beyond the platonic, beyond the physical, beyond the romantic. You need him because he understands you. He sees you. And the thought of being without him, of not having him by your side, of not hearing his voice, is too much to bear.

The reality of it is enough to snap you out of your stupor, and a rush of courage flows through you.

"I hope so," you whisper, the words barely audible. "I want us to."

A soft laugh escapes him, and you can almost hear the relief in his voice.

"Good," he murmurs. "So do I."

"Good," you sigh. You close your eyes, allowing the exhaustion to finally pull you under, and the sound of his breathing washes over you, carrying you deeper into the darkness.

You're not sure how long the two of you stay like that, how long the call lasts, or if he even stays awake. But the last thing you remember before the blackness claims you is the gentle hum of his voice, the quiet, steady rhythm lulling you to sleep.

Your comm is still on when you wake in the morning. It lies face up on your pillow, and when you check it, the screen is still active, the call still connected. You smile and bring the device closer, and when you hear the sound of a soft snore, your heart stutters. He's still there. He stayed.

For a moment, all you can do is lie there, staring at the comm, listening to the gentle rise and fall of his breathing. Then, as carefully as possible, you tap the button on the side, disconnecting the call. The screen goes dark, and the sound cuts off, leaving you alone in the silence.

You set the comm aside, and as you climb out of bed, you can't help but wonder how many more moments like this you'll get to have. How many more late-night calls, how many more stolen hours. How many more nights spent curled up next to the comm, his voice filling the air.

You know the answer, and it's not a pleasant one. You're going to be on the front lines, constantly in motion, constantly fighting. And if the war drags on, as it seems likely to, the two of you will be spread apart, the distance between you increasing exponentially. And even if somehow the universe sees fit to grant the two of you a respite, there's no guarantee that it will last. No guarantee that it will allow you the chance to truly enjoy each other's company.

You stand, shaking the thoughts away. It doesn't matter. What's done is done. And whatever happens, whatever the future holds, the two of you will make it work. You have to. Because the alternative is too painful to contemplate.

And if the only time the two of you can spend together is in the form of a few stolen moments, a few late-night conversations, a few whispered words, well, that's better than nothing.

With a sigh, you haul yourself out of bed, determined to start the day with a clean slate. It's going to be a long one, and the last thing you need is to let the negativity consume you. So, you push the doubts and fears and worries aside and get dressed, the familiar routine calming your nerves.

After a quick shower and a change of clothes, and a quick trip to the mess hall, you make your way to the hangar. There’s a commotion as the troops work together to clear out the space, and a flurry of activity fills the air, the sound of metal boots echoing throughout the room.

Booker is standing near the entrance, a datapad in hand. Like most of the men, he’s dressed in the lower half of his armor, leaving the black undersuit visible. He glances up as you approach, and a grin spreads across his face, his eyes bright.

"Good morning, sir," he greets, his voice loud enough to be heard over the din.

"Good morning," you reply, and you give him a tired smile. "You're chipper today."

He laughs and sets the datapad on a nearby crate, crossing his arms. "I'm always chipper, sir. Just like you're always grumpy."

You glare at him, but the look only makes him laugh.

"C'mon," he says, jerking his head towards the open space. "We're ready to go."

You follow him across the hangar, weaving through the sea of troopers, and a moment later, the two of you are standing in the middle of the room, the men forming a large circle around you. There's a hush as the group gathers, and Booker turns, addressing the troops.

"Listen up!" he calls, his voice booming through the room. The men immediately straighten, their attention focused on the pair of you. "Today, we'll be conducting drills. Hand-to-hand combat and weapons training."

You step forward, and you raise your voice, addressing the men. "I know most of you have had basic training, but today will be different. Today, I want to see what you can do. Who has the fastest reaction times. Who has the best accuracy. Who can take a hit and keep going. We'll go through each of the weapons, and we'll spar. Everyone. Even me."

You pause, allowing the men to absorb your words.

"It's important that you're well-prepared," you continue. "Because once we reach the battlefield, there's no room for error. Every second, every movement, counts. So, let's get to work."

The men immediately scramble to various stations, grabbing blasters and helmets and other equipment. You watch as they work together, passing gear between each other. They're efficient and organized, and the sight is enough to ease some of the pressure. At least you know these men will be able to handle themselves.

After a few minutes, everyone is suited up, and the hangar is filled with the hum of blasters and the sound of shouting. You glance at Booker, and you share a knowing smile. Then, without another word, the two of you move, heading towards the nearest station.

It's a good three hours before the first break is called, and by the time it is, the entire hangar is hot and sweaty and exhausted. The men gather around, their chests heaving, their faces covered in grime. And, while some are showing signs of weariness, most are smiling and joking with each other, their spirits high.

You're leaning against the wall, sipping water and watching the troops, and Booker is sitting on the floor, his legs stretched out in front of him, his hands resting behind his head. The two of you watch as a few soldiers begin to spar, and the rest gather around, cheering them on.

"They're doing well," Booker observes, his voice soft.

You nod, watching as a trooper manages to land a kick, sending his opponent staggering. The sound of their laughter fills the air, and you can't help but smile.

"Yeah," you agree. "They're a good group."

The two of you fall silent, and you find yourself thinking about Rex, wondering how his men are doing. Wondering how he's doing. The image of his face, the soft sound of his voice, fills your mind, and the memory is enough to send a warm tingle down your spine.

"So," Booker begins, pulling you from your thoughts. You glance at him, raising an eyebrow, and he gives you a look. "Still regretting that promotion?"

You roll your eyes and turn, leaning against the wall and crossing your arms. You stare at the floor as you consider his question. After a moment, you give a slight shake of your head, letting out a quiet laugh.

"No," you admit. "Not anymore."

Booker smiles, his eyes sparkling. "Good."

The larger of the two clones lands a solid hit, sending his opponent to the ground, and you wince at the sound of impact. But the men are laughing, and a few seconds later, they're helping their fallen comrade to his feet, clapping him on the back. Blood streams from his nose, but he doesn't seem to care, a wide grin on his face as one of the men steps forward and ruffles his hair.

"Is that Dash?" you ask, pointing at the clone with the bloodied face. Booker glances over, and his expression softens.

"Yeah," he replies. "That's him."

The clone looks over at the sound of his name, and his face lights up, a wide smile spreading across his face. He raises a hand in a wave, and you give a small nod, acknowledging the gesture. You'd forgotten how young he was. You hadn't seen him since the battle of Kamino, and the memory of him standing before you, his hands twisting nervously, is suddenly fresh in your mind. He's taller now, more confident, but there's still a hint of anxiety in his eyes.

"How's he doing?" you murmur to Booker, turning your head so that the men can't see your lips move.

"He's good," Booker answers, his voice low. "He's got a lot of potential."

You nod, watching as Dash takes a few steps forward, stopping in front of the two of you. The rest of the men disperse, returning to their sparring and their shooting, and the three of you are left alone.

Dash's smile is a little less enthusiastic now, and a light flush creeps across his face. He stands awkwardly, his hands clasped behind his back, his feet shifting nervously.

"General," he greets, giving a slight nod. "It's an honor."

"How are you, Dash?" you ask, keeping your tone friendly.

"I'm good, sir," he replies. He wipes the back of his hand across his mouth, and it comes away smeared with blood. "You?"

You give him a smile, trying to hide the concern on your face. "I'm fine. Are you alright? Your nose is bleeding."

Dash blinks, seemingly surprised, and he brings his hand up, pressing a finger to his nose. It comes away red, and he glances at his hand with a frown. He opens his mouth, but no words come out, and after a moment, he simply shrugs, a sheepish grin spreading across his face.

"Uh, yeah," he mumbles, looking embarrassed.

"Hey," Booker cuts in. "Why don't you take a seat?"

He pats the spot next to him, and Dash nods, sinking to the floor. You settle beside him, your back against the wall, and you hand him a towel. He takes it gratefully, pressing the cloth to his nose.

"Thanks," he mutters, his voice muffled.

"No problem," you tell him. You glance at his face, studying the injury. His nose isn't broken, and the bleeding has slowed, but the bruise is already starting to form. "Who were you fighting?"

"Screwball," Dash answers, gesturing to the clone. The man in question is currently sparring with another trooper, and the two of them are locked in a fierce battle. You watch, impressed, as Screwball manages to knock his opponent's feet out from under him, and a few seconds later, the soldier is on his back, the larger clone straddling his chest.

Dash lets out a snort, and he shakes his head.

"That was fast," he mutters. "He's good."

"He is," you agree, your eyes never leaving the fight. Screwball has managed to pin his opponent, and he's using his weight to his advantage, holding the man in place. After a moment, the soldier slumps, signaling his surrender, and Screwball leaps to his feet, a broad grin on his face.

"You're not so bad, yourself," you add, glancing at Dash. He meets your gaze, a shy smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "You held your own."

His cheeks turn a deep red, and he ducks his head, a soft laugh escaping him. You give him a gentle pat on the shoulder, and his blush darkens.

"Thanks, sir," he mumbles.

"Just telling the truth," you say, shrugging. "You're leaving yourself open, though."

Dash's eyebrows furrow, and he turns his attention to you.

"What do you mean?"

"Your left side," you explain. "You're leaving it open. If your opponent is fast enough, they'll be able to get a shot in. Like this."

You swing your leg out, and the tip of your boot connects with his ribs. It's a gentle kick, but he flinches, hissing in pain. He doubles over, clutching his side, and you offer an apologetic smile.

"Sorry," you say. "I didn't mean to hit that hard."

"It's fine," Dash says, his voice strained.

"Try again," you instruct, getting to your feet. Dash takes a deep breath, and he rolls his shoulders, shaking out his limbs. He plants his feet, his fists clenched, and he squares his shoulders, ready for the next blow. You take a step back, and you swing your leg, aiming for his right side this time.

He doesn't flinch, and he's able to block the kick, his forearm connecting with your shin. He grunts, and you grin, impressed.

"Good," you tell him, taking a step back. "Better. Now, try the same thing, but switch sides."

He nods, and he plants his feet again, his arms held loosely at his sides. This time, he's quicker, and he's able to deflect your kick, his hand coming up and grabbing your ankle. You yelp as he twists, yanking your foot off the ground, though the maneuver doesn't catch you off guard. You let your body fall, landing on the ground, and you twist your leg, freeing yourself from his grasp.

You leap back to your feet, and the two of you begin a series of kicks and blocks, your bodies moving in sync. The other troopers stop to watch, and a few of them begin cheering, encouraging Dash to keep going. After a few minutes, you slow, and the two of you circle each other, panting. Dash's nose has stopped bleeding, and his eyes are bright, a wild grin on his face.

"Not bad," you pant, a smile on your own face.

"Not bad?" Dash echoes. "I think I won."

"In your dreams," you scoff. You wipe the sweat from your forehead, and you take a deep breath, steadying yourself. "Again. You're still leaving yourself open."

Dash frowns, and he glances down, studying his posture. You can almost see the wheels turning in his head, and after a moment, his expression changes, his face brightening. He moves his left arm, tucking it behind his back, and he takes a defensive stance, his hands up.

"Like this?" he asks, his eyes shining.

"Exactly," you reply, a note of approval in your tone. "Now, try blocking me again."

He nods, and you lunge, swinging your leg. His arm snaps up, and he blocks the kick, a loud grunt escaping him. You pull your foot back, and he takes a step forward, his arms raised. The two of you continue the exercise, blocking and dodging, until finally, you decide to end the fight with a final move. 

You feint, and Dash reacts, his eyes narrowing. He blocks your kick, but his guard is down, and you take advantage, grabbing his arm and yanking him off-balance. He lets out a startled yelp as you twist, using your momentum to pull him over your shoulder, and a second later, he's on his back, blinking up at you. 

The room erupts into cheers, and you extend a hand, helping him to his feet. His face is flushed, but his eyes are bright, and he grins, shaking his head.

"Wow," he says, a little breathless. "You're fast."

"So are you," you reply. You dust your hands off and give him a wink. "Keep practicing, and you might actually stand a chance against me."

He laughs and runs a hand through his hair, his cheeks still pink.

"I'll do my best, sir," he promises.

"Good," you tell him. You glance around, and a small crowd has formed, the men watching the two of you. You raise your voice, addressing the group. "Alright, everyone! Back to work! Let's go!"

The men scatter, and the two of you watch as they return to their training, the hangar filled with the sound of their voices and their laughter. Dash turns too, but Booker catches his arm, holding him in place as another clone emerges from the group, striding towards the three of you. You recognize Wise instantly by the sour look on his face, and you can't help but smirk.

You'd been more than a little surprised to learn that Wise had volunteered to be the chief medic of the 419th Brigade. Not that you doubted his abilities. He'd certainly shown his worth as a skilled healer, his knowledge of anatomy and physiology rivaling that of the Kaminoans, but a part of you had assumed Kamino would want to keep him. It wasn't every day a clone with his talents walked out of the facility.

Yet, here he was. And for some reason, his presence made you feel better. Like maybe if he was here, it meant something. Like maybe you weren't completely screwed.

"You okay, Wise?" you ask, raising an eyebrow.

Wise shoots you a glare, and he crosses his arms, his expression sour.

"This place is a goddamn zoo," he grumbles. He points at Dash's face, the blood still visible despite the attempt to wipe it away. "What happened to you?"

Dash shrugs. "Sparring."

Wise snorts derisively, and he reaches out, grabbing Dash by the chin. He tilts the clone's head to the side, examining the wound, and his eyes narrow.

"I told you not to do anything stupid," he grumbles.

Dash grins and shrugs again, clearly not bothered by Wise's scolding.

"It was a good fight," he replies, a slight note of pride in his voice. "I learned a lot."

Wise rolls his eyes and releases his hold on the younger clone. He turns to you, giving you a slight nod, and you raise an eyebrow, surprised by his show of respect.

"General," he says. His voice is gruff, and there's a hint of hesitation in his tone. "Can I talk to you? Privately?"

Your eyebrows furrow, and you exchange a confused glance with Booker.

"Sure," you reply, turning your attention to the medic. He jerks his head towards the far side of the hangar, and the two of you start walking, leaving Booker and Dash behind.

As soon as the two of you are out of earshot, Wise stops, crossing his arms over his chest.

"I wanted to apologize," he says, his tone low.

"For what?"

"For the way I treated you," he answers, meeting your gaze. His eyes are filled with regret, and his lips are pressed into a thin line. "Back on Kamino."

You blink, taken aback by his admission. It's not as if you were a stranger to rude behavior, and compared to what you'd endured and dished out over your lifetime, Wise's attitude had barely registered. If anything, it had been a bit refreshing. The fact that he felt the need to apologize, however, is unexpected.

You study his expression, searching for a hint of sarcasm, and a small smile tugs at the corners of your mouth. There isn't any.

"It's fine," you assure him. "I didn't exactly make a great first impression, either."

He lets out a huff of air, and he gives a small shake of his head.

"Yeah, well," he mutters. "You're the General. It wasn't my place."

There's a long pause, and you lean against the wall, watching as the troops begin their exercises once more. You can feel his eyes on you, and after a moment, you turn, meeting his gaze.

"How did you end up here, anyway?" you ask, genuinely curious.

Wise snorts and leans beside you, crossing his arms across his chest and resting his back against the wall. He lets out a short sigh, and his gaze falls, focusing on the floor.

"The longnecks weren't thrilled," he admits, his voice low. "But they didn't really have a choice. Commander Booker and Captain Rex had spoken on my behalf, and the GAR had approved my transfer."

"And you're okay with that?"

He gives a noncommittal shrug, his expression thoughtful.

"It's better than scrubbing floors and being under constant surveillance," he says. He shoots a glance in your direction, and his lips twitch. "And as far as generals go, you're not so bad."

You can't help but laugh, and you nudge him gently.

"Well, I appreciate the vote of confidence," you reply, grinning. You tilt your head, giving him a playful look. "So, we're friends now, right?"

Wise scoffs and rolls his eyes, but the faintest hint of a smile creeps across his face.

"Hardly," he mutters, and he turns, his eyes scanning the hangar. He clears his throat, his voice returning to its usual gruffness. "Now, get back to work, General. Some of us have actual things to do."

Wise pushes away from the wall, heading back towards Dash and Booker, and you follow, the two of you falling into step. As the distance between the group and yourselves lessens, the medic's demeanor shifts, and his usual scowl is firmly in place. Dash seems immune to the effect of his glare, too focused on the conversation he's having with Booker. A conversation that, judging by the blush on his cheeks, seems to involve you.

"Green is good, but I think she would look better in yellow," Dash says, his voice hushed. "What do you think?"

"I don't know, kid," Booker replies. "I'm not sure if yellow is her color."

"It's worth a shot, isn't it?" Dash glances over, catching sight of Wise, and he grins. "Hey, Wise, what color would you say the General looks best in?"

"Don't drag me into this," Wise grumbles. He comes to a stop beside the pair, and his gaze lands on you. You raise an eyebrow, silently asking him the question, and his expression is completely deadpan. "Yellow."

He gives a short nod to you and Booker, his gaze lingering for a moment, before striding past, disappearing into the sea of troops. You watch him go, unable to hide the smirk on your face, and Booker's expression is one of pure shock. Dash, meanwhile, looks pleased. Very, very pleased.

"Um..." he begins. He clears his throat, and his eyes dart to Booker, his expression hopeful. "Commander?"

Booker blinks, and his lips twitch. He claps Dash on the shoulder, and the younger clone nearly buckles, a sharp gasp escaping him.

"Dash thinks our color should be yellow," he announces, and Dash lets out a nervous laugh, scratching the back of his neck. You raise an eyebrow, and Booker gives a noncommittal shrug. "Personally, I think it's a little bright, but..."

"Yellow's not bad," you concede, glancing around the hangar. Anything would be better than the white and gray you were currently surrounded by. "We could probably do with a little color around here."

Dash studies you for a few moments longer, and his eyes light up, a broad grin splitting his face. He turns on his heel and rushes to the nearest trooper, and he begins speaking rapidly, pointing in your direction. The soldier nods, and a moment later, he's jogging off, disappearing into the crowd.

"What are they doing?" you ask, glancing at Booker.

"Not sure," he replies. "But I'm guessing the kid's got an idea."

The two of you watch as Dash speaks to another clone, this one older and taller. After a brief conversation, the man nods, and the pair begin making their way through the hangar, stopping in front of various squads. They speak to the soldiers, gesturing towards you, and a few minutes later, the men begin nodding, some of them even laughing. When Dash is finished, he hurries back towards you, his eyes shining.

"Well?" you ask, and he flashes a broad grin.

"It's settled, sir," he announces, his chest puffed out.

"Oh?"

"Gold," he replies. He nods, as if agreeing with his own words. "Definitely gold."

A surprised laugh escapes you. The Force must be playing a trick on you. There was no other explanation for it. Because it seemed that, somehow, the universe had aligned itself to bring the clones of the 419th together, all for the sole purpose of giving you a headache.

"Gold," you repeat, and Dash nods, a slight look of concern on his face.

"Yes, sir," he says, his voice quiet. "Is that...is that alright?"

"Why?" you ask, unable to keep the incredulity out of your tone. "Where did you get the idea?"

"It's because of your lightsaber," Dash tells you. He points at your waist, and your gaze drifts down to the weapon attached to your belt. "It's yellow. Or gold, really. We should match."

"My lightsaber?" you echo, staring at him. His cheeks flush, and he clears his throat, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Well, yeah," he mutters. He drops his hand, and his eyes land on your saber. "The way it lights up the room...it's like...it's like it's filled with the sun itself."

You open your mouth, but no words come out. Instead, you stand there, stunned, an unexpected swell of emotion rising within you. You don't know why, but his words, his sentiment, touches you. In a way you never would've imagined.

It's a strange feeling. You're not used to it, and you're not entirely sure how to process it. No one has ever compared your lightsaber to the sun before. Your yellow blade is one more thing that's different from most other Jedi. Another piece of evidence to mark you as an outsider. For Dash to see something else, something unique and special, is...nice. Nice and unexpected.

"Okay," you say softly, giving him a small smile. "Gold it is."

A few of the men let out cheers, and Booker claps his hands, raising his voice.

"Alright," he calls. "Back to work!"

The troopers scatter, and the noise level in the hangar returns to normal, the sound of laughter and friendly banter filling the air. Booker gives a satisfied nod before he turns to you, his expression serious.

"You okay?" he asks, lowering his voice. "You look like you're about to cry."

You glare at him, though the effect is lost. There's a stinging in your eyes that you can't quite shake, and you turn your head, pretending to study the troops. You take a deep breath, pushing the feelings aside, and a few seconds later, you manage to regain control.

"I'm fine," you reply, a hint of annoyance in your tone. You turn back to Booker, and he raises an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. You roll your eyes. "And I don't cry."

He snorts and shakes his head, turning his attention back to the men. The two of you stand in companionable silence, watching as the squad leaders guide their troops through the motions. A short distance away, Dash is practicing his sparring skills with Screwball, a smile on his face.

After a while, you glance at Booker, your voice barely above a whisper.

"I think we'll be alright," you murmur.

Booker's gaze remains focused on the men, but his expression softens, and the corner of his mouth curves upward.

"Yeah," he agrees, and he nudges you gently. "We will."

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[bethebesttoyou]

Shiver - Choi Yeonjun

synopsis: Yeonjun and Y/N just can't let each other go.

pairing: College student! Yeonjun x college student! Reader

song: Shiver by Lucy Rose (I was way too young to be listening to just sad songs in middle school)

warnings: suggestive writing again,,,(does it seem like im slowly getting close to writing smut? IDK),,, lovers to exes to ??? to exes,,, ANGST NO HAPPY ENDING (it breaks my heart might have to do a part 2 FNKDS) not much dialogue again, just inner workings of reader who can't let yeonjun go, kinda like right person, wrong time... kinda cheesy ending cause we have fun here... OH NOT EDITED EITHER AHAHA

Wc: 1.8k (I wanted it to be longer T_T, maybe part two coming soon???)

A/N: Ive been writing in means of distracting myself from the reality that is our world rn, and its been really helpful...Ive also been feeling all down about my writing in general but I don't want to give up!!! I want to keep getting better!!! So ima keep just writing... hopefully down the line I get to see the growth ANYWAYS....

“What’s wrong?” Yeonjun breathes out, his hot breath hitting your face, glazed eyes of lust watching you intensely. 

He had just shown up, like he usually did, and his hands began to slowly make their way under your shirt before you stopped them breaking the hypnotic spell of his kiss. 

It was easy to forget with him pressing into you like this. To forget about the break up, the fact that it no longer was meant to mean anything other than another night together. To you, the kisses were still laced with love, with passion that were left over from the years spent together. You already knew that he was mirroring your love and emotions with his hands caressing your hips, the way he knew his way around your body, kissing where it mattered, touching where it mattered. 

It was hard to move on. Hard to give up on every feeling he evoked in you, well because… this was Yeonjun. The very same Yeonjun that asked you out in 9th grade, with a cheesy note and nervous smile, the same one that took you to all the school dances and school trips. The Yeonjun that can make you laugh, cry, and desire all with his own vocabulary. He was the same guy you grew up with, he felt familiar, he felt like home. He was the one and only Yeonjun that could ever make you feel this wanted, this needed, this loved. 

The one and only Yeonjun, the one you no longer had.

Not anymore. Not really. 

Things had gotten complicated towards the end of the relationship. Young couples often face these common complexities of individual growth, individual paths, college and the opinions of friends and families. And while you thought your relationship with Yeonjun was strong enough to sustain these challenges, believing that the years spent together only added to the strong will of your love,  nothing could’ve prepared you for the sudden distance, the change in goals, the shift in thinking, the shift in priorities. It was obvious what the issues had been. But you had pushed them down, buried deep enough to be convinced that time would fix it. So while you were good at pretending that everything had been normal and fine, it was Yeonjun that had visibly carried this boulder in his chest, the boulder heavy to the point that he had to sit you down and bring up the undeniable truth. You were drifting apart, bad. Arguments no longer lasted an hour, but days, schedules were no longer syncing, dates were being forgotten or willingly canceled, communication and keeping up with each other became rare and the voiced opinions of friends were starting to question the ethics in high school sweethearts.  

With ache filled hearts, you both knew it was the end. The love never faltered, but time did and your lives were no longer in the same rhythm, your heart, while still beating for one another, no longer to the same young love beat. So with mutual understanding and a night full of sobs and goodbye kisses, you deemed your seven year relationship to be over. Or at least that's what was supposed to happen. 

The entire idea was to give each other the space needed to grow and find yourselves, to explore the world of independence, the world of your 20’s, and the brain understood that concept, it made sense. You were both young and hadn't really figured out life, but your hearts, filled with years of history and love, branded with memories of your past, were not getting the hang of it, not just yet. Even with the ending of your relationship being meant to create a fresh start for the both of you, nothing stopped either of you from texting each other, meeting for ‘friendly’ coffees, meeting up at night, when your roommates were asleep, sneaking him in. That's what got you here now. 

Nine months after the break up, he's in your hallway, pushing you against the wall in the middle of the night. And you weren't going to lie, you were obsessed with the feeling. Yet, you knew deep down, this was only hurting you both more.There was never any talk about getting back together, in fact there was never any talking about this aspect of your friendship?relationship? Whatever it was. When you were around your mutual high school friends, it was as though these nights never happened, it was as if you both were silently agreeing that this was merely sex. Merely a way of getting your needs taken care of. 

But it felt like an excuse. In your head, you convinced yourself that this was okay, because who else knew you like this, knew your body and what you needed, before and after? And you knew he felt the same, when his soft moans and grunts escaped his mouth, when he would beg to hear your own soft moans and whines again and again. 

The discussion and acknowledgement of what this was,would have only made things more real. More complicated, and like true Yeonjun and Y/N fashion, you ignored all of that. You would ignore his love filled eyes, the constant electrical current his touch possessed, the way his touch would have you shivering in anticipation, you would ignore the slips of ‘I love you’s from his mouth when he was on top of you. And he seemed to ignore all of your soft ‘baby’s’ and pleads, ignoring your single tears and would silently cradle you after, seeming to understand, yet never actually bringing it up. 

Because, neither of you had not been ready, and maybe you still weren't, but things had been changing, life still existed outside of him, and you weren't sure you could keep this up anymore. 

It was only recently that your friends suggested dating again. The thought itself made your stomach twist in guilt and fear. Your friends had known about this toxic stance you were in with Yeonjun, this idea that you were still each other’s, even if you weren't. And unlike you, they were worried about this deeply rooted attachment, considering it more obsessive, more out of comfortability than actual love. So even with your desperate rejections, they set you up. And when you suggested the idea of not showing up, they looked at you with concern filled eyes: 

“Y/N, you have the chance to grow into the best version of yourself…don't let him keep you stuck here.” 

 It was in that moment then, looking up at him, when he had brought a hand up to gently caress the softness of your cheek, that you understood.

 You knew they were right. And yet, a terribly hard pill to swallow. This didn't just apply to you, but to him too. You both had so many plans, goals, dreams. You both were only getting in the way of that, both keeping each other connected by the willfulness of your hearts. This love was too big for the both of you, and it was sucking the life, the happiness out of you.You loved him, you always did, always will. So much so, that you knew he deserved the same chance at an experience of life, without this weighing on him, without you pulling him back, just like you did.

“I can't do this anymore.” You whispered back finally, a tear hitting his thumb, and you weren't shocked when he sighed, before nodding, like he had known. That was another thing about Yeonjun you had loved,he always just knew. 

You embarked in this minute of silence, both of you letting it settle, the room was dimly lit, but you were still able to make out his disheveled hair, his freshly kissed lips, and the tears that flooded the lining of his eyes. Neither of you hid them, neither felt the need too. Your heart fights this feeling of relief, and Yeonjun looks up at you and smiles softly before motioning to the front door. 

“Do you remember orientation night?” He asked, once he was out the door. The fresh wind sweeps up a pair of leaves from the floor, and you both watch as the leaves dance around each other, before flying off. You smile. 

“I do.” 

Orientation night was hell. The world had been against you, you had been picked on by the orientation leaders, your dorm mates didn't seem like they were going to be good dorm mates at all, and to make it worse, you were in a new city, an hour away from Yeonjun’s college. You had decided to suffer in silence that night until he called, and just with the sound of his voice, you couldn't help but blubber out everything that went wrong. He listened and cooed, trying to relax your sobs, you heard the sound of an ignition turning on in the back. As you suspected, he made it to the front of your dorms in the next hour, already extending his arm for an embrace. At this time, the distance was still new and unfamiliar to both of you, no longer living in the same city, no longer having the same group of friends. You're no longer crying as dramatically as before, yet he still held you tightly in his chest, the smell of his cologne calming you greatly. 

“Ima just give up and go home. Maybe I'm not made for college life.” You sigh. 

“Hey, you are definitely not going back home. Youre gonna go back in there and tell your dorm mates to be nice or fuck off, and then youre gonna go tomorrow and say the same thing to those asshole leaders.” he rubs your back. 

“No…” you sigh again, “I'm not gonna do that. I want to actually make friends, and I want my dorm mates to actually like me.” 

“I'm your friend.”

“You also live an hour away.” 

“So? Nothing can keep me away from you.” He smiles down at you, kissing your forehead. 

“I wish I only had to deal with you and your antics…I miss you.” 

I miss you too… Do you want me to talk to those leaders?” 

“No but thanks.” 

“Y/N…” you had been closing your eyes until he called, “I will always have your back. Always. You always have a friend, never hesitate to call him. He loves you, forever.” he finally attaches his lips to yours, quickly pecking your lips before pecking the rest of your face. 

“I meant every word.” he says softly, grabbing your hands, “I'm always your friend and I love you, forever.” 

“I love you too, forever.” And when he reaches to rub the tear off your cheek again, you chuckle to suppress the sniffle. 

If your heart had not been enclosed in your chest, it would have been dragged by the last few strings attached to his, instead all you felt was the frantic pull, the desperate call for him to come back, and he must feel it too cause he turns back to you, already at the edge of the driveway. 

“If I ever get you back in my arms, I will never let you go again.” 

“Is that a threat?” You laughed already walking back to the door. He smiles upon seeing your smile, one last time. 

“A promise.” 

A/N: YAYAYAYAAY you made it to the end!!! Thank you so much for reading!!! I wanted to make this super angsty and I hope I tugged at the heart even just a pluck :3 Anyways, as always please let me know how you liked it, my asks are open for any requests as well!! Also let me know if you think I should do a small update (read: part 2) on yeonjun and y/n, maybe seeing each other again /.\ Thank you again!! :3

[fashionteahouse]

Ahem.. I'm not gonna say anything important (tbh) but.. I've been looking for a vampire reader (like a Cullen) x Paul or Embry and I can't find anything. I'm dying. Like.. WHYYY?? WHY ALWAYS HUMAN READER😭💔

i like this idea ! hope you enjoy :)

secret - paul x reader

Eyes rolled hard.

You were tired of the same routine.

How foolish was it to continue to have to move. You actually liked Washington.

“It’s unsafe for me to stay.” Edward says in deep sorrow.

The family were actually considering.

“We just got here three years ago. One human and you’re ready to crumble.” you mutter. Rosalie snickered at this.

“Don’t be so hard on him.” Carlisle says with great reasoning.

“While you all figure out the next location again, I’m going for a run.” you say.

You out in a flash.

You sulked high in the trees with a crouch. It was completely unfair how when Edward said jump, the rest of the Cullens had no problem asking how high.

It was clear favoritism.

You understood that he was the first adoptive child, but it was as if no one else’s opinion mattered. Your mind thought about just leaving, but Carlisle taught you everything you knew about the life of a vampire.

You were grateful, you were on the brink of death with all hope loss. It wasn’t until he was your doctor, nursing you back to health. You weren’t getting any better and he had taken a liken to you. He saved you. You will always be thankful to him for that.

A sound of a set of paws made you snap out of your head. You peered down and it was one of the biggest animals that you have seen.

You had already fed so you weren’t in the mood to hunt for it. But, you didn’t feel the need to even if you wanted to.

Its large head seemed to know right where you were. It didn’t run or scurry away like other animals did.

You got to see the color of their large eyes. It was as if everything was in slow motion. It was a sensation that vibrated throughout your frozen body.

It ran away before you could question any further.

Your mind was preoccupied as you went back home.

Paul was pissed.

He shook and trembled as he cursed.

“A fucking cold one.”

He felt that the spirits above were messing with him. Punishing him even

“No fucking way.”

He kept it a secret from that day forward.

You didn’t tell the Cullens about the animal you had seen. You instead thought of each animal in alphabetical order.

“I’m so glad you’re back. Your vision went to black.” Alice says with worry as you went to your room.

“I’m fine.” you say.

“Just be careful.” she warns gently. You wave her off.

As the rest of the Cullens went to hunt, you stayed back. Your mind thought back to the wolf.

You tried to read a book but your mind kept thinking about its gorgeous fur. It looked soft to the touch. It was an animal. Why you were so fixated on an animal, you just didn’t know.

You kept it a secret from that day forward.

The Cullens were packing up the home. You didn’t start packing your room. You stood stubbornly as Esme tried to convince you.

“I want to stay here. I don’t want to leave.” you say. You felt the need to stay.

“Y/N, we’re a family. We can’t just leave you behind”.

“It’s unfair Esme. Had Edward not been so blinded, we would still be able to stay.” you say with frustration.

“You can’t help who you love, Y/N. Had this been you, we would support you 100%.”

“But, I wouldn’t fall in love with food. A human.” you say bitterly.

“You don’t know that for sure. We all don’t know who we end up falling in love with. Alice is worried that if you stay, you will be in great danger. Your future isn’t clear.”

“I think we rely on Alice’s visions way too much, don’t you think?”

“Please, Y/N.” Esme begs softly.

You watch as she retreats.

You leave out as the rest of the family is preoccupied.

Ithaca.

You rolled your eyes even harder. All for Edward. The golden child. Letting him pick the location and all.

You crouched high on the tree again. A small part of you hoped that the animal stumbled upon you. But, you figured that chance was slim to none.

That’s when you heard the crunches of leaves and branches. The large animal froze. It was same one. You felt yourself get excited.

“Beautiful.” you whisper to it. The fur was silver and the body was majestic.

You watched as the animal cocked its head to the side.

Before you knew it, you watched in shock as the shimmer of the animal became a human. A muscular human. A naked human.

He covered his center with a large hand. He looked up at you with hard eyes. It was as if he tried to glare at you but he couldn’t bring it to his face.

“Are you stalking me or something?” he asked.

“No.” you say in a small voice.

“This is my second time seeing you.”

“This is my second time seeing you as well.” you say to him.

You jump down to get a closer look. He still kept his distance but he was even more beautiful up close.

Paul felt ashamed. He felt ashamed for feeling himself grow, he felt that his ancestors was looking down at him, shaking their heads.

For a bloodsucker, he genuinely felt you were beautiful. Drop dead gorgeous. He felt his curious mind get the best of him on how it could work. He shook his head.

“You turn into…?”

“A wolf.” he answered.

“A beautiful wolf.” you say as you look at him and his chiseled chest.

“You checking me out, too?” he asks.

You look up and you see a faint smirk.

“Maybe.” you say with your own smirk.

“Heard your family is leaving. Too bad the fun can’t begin.”

Your eyes grow wide a bit as you roll them, “Yeah..I don’t want to leave…It’s all because of..” you grumble.

He chuckled at your attitude. He was amused.

“If you don’t want to leave, why are you leaving?” he found himself asking. “Can’t even keep my fucking mouth shut.” he scolded in his brain.

“Because apparently Edward runs the household. It’s totally unfair…We warned him to stay away from….Bella Swan…But he was oh so curious of why he couldn’t read her mind.” you say.

“Read her mind?” he asks as you both walk.

“Yeah. That’s what he can do. Everyone except hers.”

“Vampire have superpowers and shit now?”

“You know..?” you ask in surprise.

“That’s why I transform into a wolf. To kill your kind off.”

You halt your steps as he takes a predatory step towards you. It wasn’t fear that you felt, it was rather excitement.

“Can you spare me? At least?”

“I’ll think about it.” he says in a seductive tone.

“A flirt, I see.” you whisper. His slow smirk was handsome on his face.

You hear your name ring out. The man turns away and you watch as he’s off on his own. You find out that he’s fast.

Alice rushes towards you and gasps, “You smell like..A shapeshifter. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“That’s probably why I can’t see you. Come on, we have to get back.” she says.

You look in the direction he left. You felt yourself get sad that you never caught his name.

It was like his own dirty little secret. Paul soon found out he liked secrets.

He liked whatever game it was, he didn’t want it to end.

“We leave in the morning.” Carlisle announced to everyone. Edward seemed pleased.

“I’m staying.” you announce.

Shock surrounds the room. Rosalie stands next to Emmett with her arms crossed as he has an arm around her shoulders.

“Me and Emmett aren’t coming to Ithaca.” Rosalie announced.

“We can’t separate! We’re a family.” Alice says.

“Well, I don’t want to go to Ithaca.” Rosalie says.

“Yeah, me neither.” you say.

“And I’m going wherever Rose goes…We’ll see each other again. It’s happened before. We always reunite.” Emmett says.

“But..But..But it could be years before that happens.” Esme says sadly.

“I will stay and keep the house in order.” you offer with a small smile.

“Are you sure, Y/N…?” Carlisle asks.

You nod.

“I’m worried Y/N. That’s why you need to come with us. A shapeshifter was close to you and anything could happen while we’re away. I can’t even see your future anymore. Just please, come with us.” Alice begs you.

“Y/N, is that true?” Carlisle asks you.

“Maybe? That’s what Alice says. I was only lounging in a tree.” you say and you kept picturing deers because you could tell Edward was searching through your mind.

“Please don’t leave Forks. Got it? I personally will come to check in on you from time to time.” Carlisle says.

You nod with an, “Okay.”

You say goodbye to them all before the sunrise.

Edward watched you closely.

“What?” you ask annoyed.

“I know you’re up to something.”

“You always think I’m up to something.” you say as you remember the times he tattled on you time and time again.

“I always catch you…..I will miss you, Y/N.” he says.

You’re shocked.

“You will?”

He nods once. He even gives you a quick but sincere hug.

“Like Emmett said..We will reunite.” you say softly.

Edward grinned only slightly before he’s off right with the other Cullens.

The home was empty. You looked around. The patter of rain started to pour down.

You go out since you liked the feeling of rain on your skin.

You choose another spot, you were surprised that you felt the presence of the wolf.

You turn around and give it a brilliant smile. You watch as they slowly trot to where you were. It was much bigger up close.

Your hand reach out and the feeling of the fur almost made your golden eyes roll to the back of your head.

“They all left. It’s just me.” you say.

The wolf doesn’t say anything and you noticed something tied around their ankle.

They shimmer back to a human and the handsome man is back in your view. You saw a quick peak at his center before you turn your head. A deep chuckle hits your sensitive ears and you look again and this time shorts is on his body.

You stand up from where you were sitting and he raked his dark eyes up and down at you. You shift on your feet.

“A leech that’s nervous?”

“Is that what you call us?” you ask.

He nods.

“What do you call us? Giant dogs?”

You snort, “No….Alice said a shapeshifter so…?”

“That’s what I am.”

“Huh.” you say in thought.

“It’s just you at the house?”

“Yeah…Do..You…Want..To come over?” you ask shyly.

“Yeah.” he says.

You both walked back to the Cullen household. His eyes take in the home.

You watch in amazement as he was already dry. No towel needed.

“Like what you see?” his deep voice echoed in the home.

Your breath hitched, “You dried off so fast.” you say.

He takes your wrist, pulling you close and you felt a tad bit nervous. He pressed your cool hand to his chest. You both groan a bit at the difference in body temperature. You cooled him down and he warmed you up.

“You’re…Hot.” you say.

His smile made you feel excited and you playfully roll your eyes as he took the double meaning and rolled with it.

“They really left.” he says as he still had a hot hand on your wrist.

“Yeah.” you say quietly.

“So…Do you have a room?”

You nod with a slight smile.

He walked close behind you up the stairs, his hand grabbing onto the railing, very close to yours.

“This is my domain.” you say with a humorous tone.

He walked in and he looked around. Picking up things and observing them.

“You’ve been to…A lot of places.”

“Yeah.” you say.

“What’s your favorite place?” he asks as he looks back to you. He’s close to you again and your eyes settled to his chest.

“Here.”

You felt his warm fingers lift your chin up, “My eyes are up here.”

You breathe out a small chuckle as his dominant eyes search for yours.

“No bed..” he says as he walked around you.

“Yeah…I don’t sleep.” you say with a slight laugh. He flops down on the couch you had in your room. He was comfortable. Too comfortable. You enjoyed the sight as he had his hands behind his head.

“Where am I gonna sleep, then?”

You froze. You watch as his smirk grew.

“I can…I can buy you a bed.” you offer. He gets up and walks close up to you and you felt the heat come off of his body. His eyes were fierce with dominance.

“Alright I’m off.” he says. You rush as he was already outside.

“Wait!” you say. He stops and turns around.

“What’s your name? I’m Y/N.”

He gives you a look that made your legs wobbly, you hold onto the outside stairs railing.

“Paul.”

With a blink, he’s gone. He stayed in your brain as you slowly close the front door, as you whisper his name. You lean your back to the door as you felt a smile crept in your lips as you whispered his name again. It felt great coming out of your mouth.

[xoxo-ren-xoxo]

convex and how I headcanon vex hybrids <3

cw: past abuse, cannibalism mention (yayyy)

there's something about the hierarchical and controlling nature of the evoker / vex relationship that is really speaking to me right now. mostly because I like my blorbos (scar and cub) to have a weird thing going on but also just because I like it when metaphor. something about only existing to be summoned as a weapon. something about not having a choice in what you do. something about...

ok wait I have thoughts I must ramble under the cut

I'm headcanoning vex (hybrids) as very easily controlled. if someone with enough grandeur and power (or perceived power) comes along they can get swept up in that person's instruction and lose themselves. I think vex hybrids have little vex voices bouncing around in their minds, and leaning into subservience pleases them just as much as violence, trickery, and cannibalism do.

I like to refer to them as 'the vex', a sort of abstract concept that is basically just the same as saying 'instinct', except they can definitely hear those little guys. example: 'this action pleases the vex'.

obviously this can be exploited and abused. vex hybrids love taking orders and being subservient but it is obviously unhealthy to do as a person with autonomy. those who know how to exploit the vex instincts can do some real damage.

so a way of resisting / lessening the risk is for the vex hybrid to make themselves their own master. scar uses this approach masterfully. he likes to take control. to speak with big wide gestures and hold so much energy and charisma that he himself couldn't listen to anyone else. he tells himself he is the one giving the instructions. he holds the power and no one can take that from him. he is always a leader, a conman, a mayor, a theme park designer, a zookeeper. someone who holds a certain amount of power. and that makes the vex happy enough on its own. there's very little risk of getting hurt.

cub sort of goes the opposite direction. I see him as more well-adjusted anyway, more able to stay in control of himself. but when he falls, he falls hard. he goes a bit crazy and manic with vex instincts. but to keep it at bay he acts unfazed and nonchalant about everything. holds power in the art of not giving a damn. no one can control him because he simply does not care.

he just has a much better grasp of the little vex voices in his head.

anyway, the potential for tragic backstories and metaphors <3

so, I headcanon scar as a born / summoned vex. vex hybrids aren't natural, they have to be summoned by an evoker hybrid. some evokers are fine. nice, even, to their vexes. but they have ultimate power and control over them, and vexes are usually summoned to be used as a weapon, or bodyguard. there is a power dynamic at play and it is inescapable.

scar's evoker, I think, was not very kind. it could be seen as an abusive relationship, in a way. and I think that could be taken in either the abusive parent or the abusive partner direction, depending on how you want to look at it. I think scar was summoned and came in fully grown - as in, he didn't quite have a childhood and he didn't have the same learning curve a child does. the reason for an evoker summoning ritual necessitates that the vex hybrid has some base knowledge of the world and is capable of acting independently. you can't exactly summon a bodyguard who doesn't know how to fight.

still, it can symbolise several types of relationship, depending on if the evoker takes a more guiding (parental) role, or a more intimate (partner) role. the latter has definitely got more potential to basically always be bad, for obvious reasons.

anyway sorry scar for the trauma. this is why he's so vigilant now. but he will also have moments where he reverts back to a mindset where he wants to just find an evoker (or anyone) to guide him, so he can stop being in control. it sounds nice, to his vex. good.

if he fell into a bad place for whatever reason, and stumbled upon someone willing to take advantage of that, he would so easily go back to old patterns. yeah <3

I see cub as a turned vex. someone who was once human but decided to become a vex. and I think he did it because of scar. they're freaks like that. I think this means that cub doesn't have the same tragic backstory as scar, but he still understands where things can go wrong.

also I think they sort of can communicate telepathically. not with words, but more with feelings. just one Look can show everything. they're so vex ^-^

(END NOTE: because I cant stop making things about stupid Grian and his stupid ocd. imagine the absolute horror the poor bastard goes through when scar says 'oh yeah Im really easy to manipulate I basically obey any order given to me by anyone with too much authority ^-^'. Grians dumb ass starts running through every interaction they've ever had like ohhhh no </3 did I do that ?!?!?!) (he didn't)

[sly-s-n0nfusion]

Sly's personal ✨Octopath rankings✨

So I've been into Octopath since the year it came out as a franchise basically and I recently finished the second game so I felt like ranking both games' characters and stories based on my likings. Remember that all opinions are valid and if I didn't enjoy your favorite character or story as much as you did it's fine :) also, there aren’t characters or stories I actually disliked with two exceptions so I’m mostly being kind- but honest.

May do spoilers so I'll put them under a cut

Ot1

Stories

Olberic - His story has to be my favorite because of its impeccably functional structure and climax. I am a sucker for redemption stories and I think they nailed every chapter of it. They even made me like the arena chapter even though I'm not a fan of tournament arcs. It's a very well-executed emotional story and it had me hooked since the beginning (also loving the “plot twist” that his final chapter boss is NOT Erhardt, which is what everyone is expecting since chapter 1)

Cyrus - A compelling mystery story with some plot twist I liked and actually interesting pieces of lore in it. What I liked the most about it (if we ignore Therese's blatant deus ex machina moment in his ch3) is that you can't really tell what will happen when you go into one of his chapters. Also has probably the best ch4 with some of the rawest lines ever against Lucia

Alfyn - Loved his chapter 3 to death because of the moral ambiguity and also has one of the best side characters (Ogen). Golden boy has to doubt everything he knew in his life and I love that. Has kind of a slow start though

Ophilia - While I think ch2 could be executed much better and made less boring, the circular structure and moral of her story is amazing. The emotional ch4 almost made me tear up

H'aanit - Cute interpretation of a "pupil has to find his mentor" story and has some epic moments like chapter 3. Not much more than that but it was still really enjoyable (bonus mention for Susanna, one of the best npcs)

Primrose - Kinda compelling revenge tale, except that it ends in the most unsatisfying way possible. Has some nice ideas but I felt so empty and broken at the end of her ch4 because she too is empty and broken

Tressa - Not a fan of the "coming of age stories" but I enjoyed her rivalry with Ali and her friendship with Noa, as well as Leon's backstory. No hate, just the more lighthearted stories are not really my cup of tea. Apart from those, it found it pretty boring and probably has the most anticlimactic final boss ever

Therion - The one story I really didn't like because of... many reasons. Like, it really had potential with the whole Dragonstones thing and everything but they executed it in the worst way possible. Also I hate how they tried to make him trust people again thanks to some questionable people like Cordelia and Heathcote... it just didn't feel right and left me asking myself but why though so many times

Characters

Cyrus - I do love every high intelligence - low wisdom character, bonus of they're a dork and kind of naive. Could write a whole essay about him so just know he won my heart he’s been my blorbo for what 3 years now? Almost 4

Olberic - Another trope I love is grumpy and probably depressed characters who just have a heart of gold inside and use their strength to protect the people they love so there you have it. They did a great job of delivering the emotional baggage in his internal monologues

Ophilia - I love how her character gravitates around the concept of love, loss and family. She's so dear to me

H'aanit - I like her view of the world and her stoic personality but I must say that for a main character, her introspective side could've been explored more

Alfyn - Sunshine boy who feels too much. I do like men who are not afraid of crying in front of others

Therion - a bit of a lone wolf stereotype- but I like his dry and sarcastic attitude when he talks to the other members of the party

Tressa - I like that she's a bit hot-headed and I like her enthusiasm. Definitely a character who shines more when she's with other characters though

Primrose - I think they messed up a bit with her characterization sadly because I can't really tell how the real Primrose is supposed to be even after ch4. She's often portrayed as an overly-flirty femme fatale even though it's probably trauma response and often says some... questionable things to the other members of the party in her travel banters, it's hard to get her true personality right. When she's angry, she kinda comes off as cold and distant, too. I think the writers could've done a better job with her

Ot2

Stories

Castti - Hands down the best Octopath Traveler main story ever imo. It was perfect from how the emotions were delivered to the compelling plot, to the climax in her chapter 3 and the bittersweet ending in her chapter 4. So heartbreaking and has a great attention to details, as well as amazing side characters. Perfect under every aspect and I loved the “horror rpg” vibe to it

Osvald - Amazing revenge tale (and kinda mimicking The Count of Montecristo), much more effective than Primrose's and also more heartbreaking and with an ending that's a bit more satisfying (even if the last chapter is definitely the weakest one and could've been handled better for such a good story). Cool plot twists at the right times an a villain that's actually Rotten to the Core (if we ignore the ridiculous laugh Harvey has). His chapter 1 was probably the best Octopath Traveler chapter 1 narration-wise and had me almost crying at his chapter 4 boss

Throné - I wasn't expecting her story to be this good in the slightest but the "getting out of the mafia" tale is well-executed and has some nice side plots for its side characters, as well as some quite shocking twists near the end. Her chapter 1 is also super good and has some pretty good dialogues.

Temenos - I have mixed feelings towards this one because it had so much potential but it definitely needed more time to be done correctly. The mystery plot feels kinda rushed at times (especially in chapter 3 because I think that one is kind of a narrative mess like why is everything happening SO QUICKLY) and one fatal flaw: Kaldena's backstory not being addressed well enough. She is really a character who needed to pop out more in his story. In the end it's probably a matter of pacing but it does have some real big wasted potential. Also another story that like Primrose's leaves you with a really bitter aftertaste except this time it's actually fitting for Temenos' character

Ochette - .....I'm sorry guys this story is literally Pokemon Ruby and Sapphire for a good 70% of it. Which doesn’t make it necessarily the worst story but it’s not original either. What I liked though is that it has some real good first and final chapters that got me kind of emotional and also kinda creeped me out. The side "anti-racism plot" could've been articulated better narratively but that's what we got in the end so. Also big wasted potential.

Hikari - I am not a fan of stories in which by chapter 1 you already know how they're going to end and Hikari's was exactly like this. I quite enjoyed the arena chapter and the chapter in Stormhail as well, and some parts of it were very cinematic. Not much more than that

Partitio - DISCLAIMER for the next 2 stories: again, I am not a fan of lighthearted stories because of personal taste, nothing else. I want the drama lol. This is why this one was not my cup of tea. I liked the narrative pace of chapter 1 but after that one it just kinda goes a little overboard with the crazyness idk it felt kinda weird to have a bulldog, a jobless guy and a train as bosses. What I loved were the "scent of commerce" side-stories though because it was really fitting to the time period the game is set in to have the merchant traveler interested in financing new inventions and machines. Also not that compelling overall

Agnea - Guys I'm sorry but this one was a big no for me. Legit had me really bored most of the time (especially didn't like the musical parts and her dialogues-only chapter 3 oh god) and never really got me hooked. I liked how cinematic her final boss battle was though and big w for the lesbians in her story I guess

Characters

Castti - Loved her caring, yet sarcastic attitude. She was such a fun and interesting character to be around (if we ignore how many times the travelers insist on calling her “mom” because she is just so much more) and has traits to her that left me quite surprised

Osvald - I love that for once we have a character that's not always nice to the other party members. I like his sharp tongue and atypical behavior, and him going nonverbal at times. A really interesting take on the scholar character I appreciated a lot (also dilfs lover here sorry not sorry)

Temenos - Mixed feelings for Temenos, again, because he does kinda sound like certain anime characters from my childhood but he is a fun character. Sly, snarky, diffident and secretly very broken inside is always a winning combination

Throné - I liked her a lot. I like the contrast between her kind personality and the gruesome job she's forced to do, and that she wants to redeem herself from everything she had to bear since she was a kid. I love her soft side and that she wants to be the good person she is

Partitio - Alfyn, but better. I can say I'm a fan of his over the top humour and attitude and his kind, generous heart

Agnea - Fun girl! I like her bubbly personality and also that she is stubborn and determined. She’s not a deep character but she is still fun

Ochette - I think her character had wasted potential. Even though I agree that she's fun and quirky, they didn't do a great job of portraying her as part of another whole species because they really kinda just made her personality rotate around liking meat. Also didn't really like how unnecessarily infantilized she was rip but she is still cute and fun

Hikari - .......Hikari likers I'm sorry. Oomfs who are Hikari likers if you’re reading this just know that I think your tastes are valid and I'm the one in the minority because everyone loves Hikari, so sorry for what I'm about to say but he kinda was what ruined his own story for me, as well as being the only traveler I actually dislike. I didn't like his teeth-rotting sweet dialogues and his whole character rotating around the concept of friendship. I didn't like that his one (1) flaw is him being possessed by a demon because of his cursed blood. He's too perfect. Therefore to me he's too uninteresting. Sorry!

Peace ✌️

[hockeyspiral23]

Harkening back to this post (linking and not reblogging to keep spoilers hidden) and going back to a theory that popped up in my IG feed the other day ...

(Onyx Storm spoilers below the cut)

... the key to defeating the venin might be Violet learning to wield magic from the sky. Or someone learning how to do so. But probably Violet (and our girl is definitely gonna need to get better at runes).

Going all the way back to Fourth Wing, when Violet flips through The Fables after reading the note from her dad, what's mentioned? Oh, merely this: "Another talks about the dangers of wielding power from the ground instead of the skies, as one could easily start drawing magic from the earth and eventually be driven mad."

Then look at the ch.37 epigraph: "But it was the third brother, who commanded the sky to surrender its greatest power, who finally vanquished his jealous sibling at a great and terrible price." We all know that there were three brothers - a dragon-bonded, a gryphon-bonded, and the venin. But which brother learned to draw from the sky?

Then, in Onyx Storm, when Violet goes to Anca to retrieve the Amelian Citrine, she mentions that it feels different than normal passing the wards:

My skin tingles as we slip down into the valley through the Esbens, and I'm struck with the oddest urge to try and pluck strands from the very sky and weave runes. "It feels like there's more power out here than usual," I tell Tairn as we dive along a ridgeline. "There's actually less - the venin saw to that," he replies. "But you grow more powerful every day, more capable of recognizing what once was invisible to you." "I could recognize it," Andarna chimes in. "If you ever let me come with you."

And Andarna can notice it because, as we learn from the conversation with the Irids, she is magic. That's why their breed can live on the Isles. It's why Violet can still talk to her own dragons and no one else can - my guess is that Tairn can talk with Violet thanks to her being double bonded; she can talk to one, she can talk to both. It's also why Theophanie was fine killing Violet once she thought Andarna was gone - the venin want the Irids because they know what they truly are.

(How this ties into the Sword of Tyrrendor/Blade of Aretia I don't know, but I somehow also know that those are going to come into play somehow later. Because the thing that Xaden mentions about keeping safe? Is 10000% the Sword. I think it's why he actually tried giving it to the Deverelli - because he knew it would be far away from him (and well out of the reach of Berwyn's hands, given how much Berwyn wielding that sword is in Xaden's dreams)).

(Also also since we're here ... Xaden emphasizes the word dream when he talks about how much he misses her, so we're totally gonna get her dream-walking into Xaden's dreams so they can have dream sex. And I'm not 100% sure how I feel about this ...)

[lesbianpikachu]

.

[evelynpr]

Might be a hot take as a bkdk and tgck truther here, but I find izuocha endlessly fascinating, beautiful, but also tearfully tragic.

I see their love for each other as something representative of their innocence and naivety when they only knew so little about who they were, and what was to come.

I think the main barrier of their relationship is that its rooted in how they see each other very idealistically, specifically that they're attached to the image of their Best Heroic Selves, and not the deeply selfish, destructive, freaky, and egotistical parts of them. To each other, they need to keep fulfilling that image or else that same person they looked up to would almost die in front of them, and that would be too cruel. Although that hero is still there, that same person they looked up to is not the same now because of...well...everything.

Izuku had barely even talked to girls when he first met her. She was Izuku's first ever real friend (Sorry Kats, everyone and him knows he was terrible), so he saved her in that entrance exam even if it was so dangerous. She gave a new meaning to his derogatory nickname just by being a friend that believed in him. After that, she saved him several more times (Blackwhip and Megaphone are the biggest samples iirc). It makes perfect sense that she is Deku's hero.

Ochako hardly knew what it meant to be a hero when she first got into UA. Just by reaching out to some kid tripping, she made a new friend who would then save her in that exam, then save him again in return. This boy then became someone who was always working so hard to save everyone in trouble, and she realized she wanted to be just like him too. "I want to save people"

But...Deku changes. The weight of One for All is on his shoulders and he needs someone to carry this burden with him. He continues to want to save other people at the expense of himself, still not letting his true selfishness and ego ever show- and it only grows more and more unbearable.

Then...Ochako fell in love with Himiko. Truly, relentlessly, selfishly and devotedly in love with a girl who then dies giving her blood to her- the greatest expression of love Himiko could ever give.

Not that they can't love each other because of this happening (and...so many other things oh god), I'm honestly not sure how to explain it- But them ending up together after losing that innocence and naivety? After Ochako will forever grieve the girl who showed her love in its most beautiful and ugly form? After Izuku changed so fundamentally as a person that the butterflies of a nice girl talking to you doesn't exist anymore? After that simple image of being a hero and being in love has completely changed for them both?

Even so, I believe they still love each other. There is no label I know of that can properly describe them though. They are each other's image of being a hero when it comes to saving people. Aside from Shoto, no one else can grasp the grief of the person you tried to save dying in your hands. They would no doubt try to cope with these losses together, and just try to get better together...but so much has changed. They've changed. The world changed. What are they now? Who are they now?

"What happened...to us?"

[flwrisu]

minimal of the crumbs of that guy from welcome home (i still wasnt able to finish anything of him yet i sketch him very frequently) ((hes my favorite)) (((im not normal)))

[aetalk]

[blaithnne]

my timephoon hot take is that the episode was literally fine, it's the episodes that came AFTER it that fucked things up

[skitskatdacat63]

Fernando S1E5 - “Mission Accomplished”

[toytulini]

victorian style haunted house that has dysphoria about not being an open concept minimalist hellhole, before we even have those, so it doesnt know why it just feels sooo miserable and has to lash out at everyone inside it, so its wretched and haunted the whole time, until its finally bought by a house flipper in the 2020s who knows JUST how to fix it