#n genetic testing lol

[miaeons]

im so scared of azn beauty creams n face items now cause of my snail mucin allergy 😭 it took 2 months to clear up.... n ill nvr risk them again! but but, cushion foundations n glow serums, how do i find snail mucin free varieties? n do i wna risk it ���‍💫🎢😱⚰️ (no)

[steampunk-raven]

“why do i keep getting nosebleeds” - person who has been unable to consume liquid all day (and quite a bit of the weeks before)

[thesecondhandwoman]

I’ll think of the jist

When reader is well enough to work for ambessa she uses a rollator (walker with like a table/seat) so she can carry multiple things at once that she couldn’t with a cane.

reader interrupts a meeting quietly to give Ambessa something, the room is full of big strong people who look down on sick ppl even if it’s genetic (:/)

They comment on her ability to work and ambessas like Nuh uh she fine brotha and Ambessa thinks nothing of it, reader thinks a lot of it and can’t sleep

lol thank you goodbye

MORE THAN ENOUGH

Ambessa x f!reader

Synopsis: Being Ambessa’s assistant and having chronic pain was difficult, but it was always worse when you tried to help on more manageable days only be to told that you are incapable.

Request: @possessedmagpie

A/N: This is part two of Chronically Ill

The soft light of morning slipped through the towering windows of Ambessa Medarda’s estate, a golden glow painting the cold stone walls. The days always started early in Noxus, the city that never slept, but for you, mornings weren’t a signal to begin. They were another checkpoint in the never-ending cycle of managing your body’s rebellion against itself.

You shifted beneath the thick covers, testing your limbs carefully. The ache that usually gripped you like iron shackles had ebbed to a low thrum today. It wasn’t gone, but it was manageable. Relief flickered in your chest, tempered by caution. You had learned long ago that even “good days” came with limits.

The other constant in your mornings lay beside you, Ambessa, her powerful frame still as she slept, her features softened in the pale light. Despite the countless demands on her time and energy, she always made space for you. She had stayed the night again, likely at your insistence, despite her busy schedule. She’d never admit it, but you suspected she worried about you constantly.

As if sensing your gaze, Ambessa stirred, her amber eyes blinking open. A small smile tugged at her lips as she caught you watching her.

“Good morning, little one,” she murmured, her voice low and warm, still laced with sleep.

“Good morning,” you replied, voice hushed, as though speaking too loudly would break the delicate peace between you.

Her eyes searched your face, her brow furrowing slightly. “How are you feeling?” she asked, the question laden with genuine care.

You considered her words, stretching carefully to test the limits of your body. “Better,” you said after a moment. “Not great, but I think I can manage today.”

Ambessa propped herself up on one elbow, her expression skeptical but not dismissive. “Are you sure?”

You nodded. “I want to try. I can’t stand feeling useless, Ambessa.”

“You’re never useless,” she said firmly, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “Your value isn’t measured by how much you can do. You know that, don’t you?”

“I know,” you murmured, though the weight in your chest said otherwise.

Her hand lingered against your cheek, her touch both grounding and reassuring. “Alright,” she said after a moment. “But promise me you’ll be careful. No pushing yourself too hard. If you need to stop, you stop. Understood?”

“Understood,” you said softly, leaning into her palm.

She pressed a kiss to your forehead, her lips lingering just long enough to make your heart ache in the best way.

By mid-morning, the estate was bustling with activity. Servants and guards moved swiftly through the halls, their boots echoing against the polished stone floors. The sheer size of the estate could be overwhelming, even intimidating, but today you felt determined.

The rollator was your lifeline, its sturdy frame and built-in seat allowing you to navigate the estate without collapsing. It wasn’t a perfect solution—there were still moments when the pain flared unexpectedly, threatening to rob you of the strength to keep going—but it gave you a sense of independence.

Today, you carried an important correspondence marked with the crest of General Vessar. The message had arrived early, its contents urgent enough to require Ambessa’s immediate attention. Despite the challenges of moving through the estate, you were determined to deliver it personally.

The grand hall where Ambessa was meeting her advisors loomed ahead, the heavy double doors closed but not impenetrable. Pausing just outside, you took a deep breath, steadying yourself against the ache radiating through your legs.

The moment you entered, the room fell silent. The rollator’s wheels squeaked faintly as you moved across the polished floor, your presence a disruption in the midst of their intense discussions.

At the head of the long table, Ambessa sat tall and imposing, her amber eyes sharp and focused. The sight of her sent a pang of comfort through your chest; she was the one constant in a world that often felt too harsh to navigate.

“Ambessa,” you said, your voice soft but steady.

Her gaze snapped to you, her expression shifting immediately. The hard edge she wore in these meetings melted away, replaced by a warmth that seemed out of place amidst the cold, calculating figures around her.

“Little one,” she greeted, her voice low and tender.

You grabbed the sealed letter on the table of your rollator as you moved it a bit closer and held it out to her. “This arrived this morning. From General Vessar.”

She shifted in her chair slightly as she turned to face you, taking the letter from your hands with a subtle nod. Her fingers brushed yours briefly—a fleeting touch that carried more reassurance than words ever could.

“Thank you,” she said, her voice soft enough that only you could hear.

But the moment was short-lived.

“She’s still working for you?” a voice called from the far end of the table.

Your chest tightened.

The man who spoke leaned back in his chair, his tone dripping with disbelief. “How can someone in her condition handle the responsibilities you’ve given her?”

Another advisor chimed in, her voice quieter but no less cutting. “It does seem unwise. The demands of this role require someone—”

“Capable,” the first man interrupted. “Someone who isn’t constantly compromised.”

The words struck like a blade, each syllable carving into your carefully built armor.

Ambessa’s chair scraped against the floor as she stood, her movements deliberate and commanding.

“Enough,” she said, her voice sharp and unforgiving.

The room fell silent.

Ambessa’s gaze swept over the advisors like a storm about to break. Her presence was a force of nature, and for a moment, you pitied the fools who dared challenge her judgment.

“You will not question her competence,” she said, her tone cold enough to freeze fire. “Do any of you doubt my ability to judge who is fit for their role?”

No one dared respond.

“Let me make something very clear,” she continued, her voice like a blade. “Y/N has proven her worth time and time again. She is stronger and more useful than any of you could hope to be, and I will not tolerate such ignorance in my presence.”

Her words were a shield, protecting you from their scorn, but they couldn’t stop the tears that welled in your eyes. You wanted to speak, to defend yourself, but the weight of their judgment was crushing.

Ambessa turned to you, her expression softening. “Go rest, little one,” she said gently.

You nodded, your throat too tight to form words. As you left the room, the rollator steady beneath your hands, you couldn’t shake the sting of their words.

Back in your quarters, the pain returned, not the physical ache in your joints, but the sharp, unrelenting sting of humiliation and self-doubt. You sank onto the edge of your bed, burying your face in your hands.

The echoes of their voices replayed in your mind, each word a reminder of what you couldn’t do, of how the world saw you. No matter how hard you worked, no matter how much you gave, it was never enough.

You didn’t hear the door open, but you felt the mattress dip beside you. A familiar hand rested on your shoulder, warm and grounding.

“Little one,” Ambessa said softly.

You wiped at your eyes, turning away from her. “I’m fine,” you lied.

She didn’t respond immediately. Instead, she wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close until your head rested against her shoulder.

“They don’t understand,” she said after a moment. “They never will. But you don’t need their approval.”

“I just… I wanted to help,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “I wanted to prove I could still do something right.”

“You’ve done more than enough,” she said, pressing a kiss to your temple. “You’re more than enough. Don’t let them take that away from you.”

Her words wrapped around you like a lifeline, pulling you back from the edge of despair.

“I’m tired,” you admitted, the weight of the day pressing heavily on your chest. “I’m so tired, Ambessa.”

“I know,” she murmured, her voice full of quiet empathy. “But you don’t have to carry this alone. I’m here, I always will be.”

You whimpered a little, holding back tears as you sunk into her arms as she lied down on the bed with you, stroking the back of your head for comfort.

She stayed with you long into the night, her presence a steady anchor in the storm of your emotions. When sleep finally came, it was with the comforting knowledge that no matter how heavy the world felt, Ambessa would always be there to share the burden.

A/N: I got a peace offering to write this, loving it.

[fillinforlater]

Pink Sheets of the Gangbang Queen

Male Reader x Kim Gaeul

Length: 1759 words

Tags: post-gangbang-unclarity, a fuckton of cum, the biggest creampies you can imagine, sluttiest_woman_ever!Gaeul, riding, reverse cowgirl, mating press, cumming again, surprisingly sweet

TW: nasty, a lot of cum by different people

Credit: @friskyriskywhisky had the idea and wrote most of it, I just expanded it as far as I could. Maybe there will be more Gangbang Queen stuff, but this was basically just a double BFH lol

(A/N: Have fun with this crazy, short piece!)

“I want one more…”

Gaeul lies on her nasty bed, which is not only the size of a New York apartment room but also a lot more comfortable. The fresh evidence of sin is all over the once royal pink bedsheet befitting of a princess, a queen to be more accurate. Her comically large pillow is full of wet fingerprints, there are even hints of Gaeul bending over it because she loves it when men penetrate her from behind and fuck her into the soft thing. The headboard and the walls nearby are all smeared with her own slick and the cum from the dozen of guys who unloaded a week's worth and then some for her, on her, because of her. Who knows how much genetic coding is now dripping down those walls, or the side of her bed or along her thighs.

Either way, Gaeul knows that the pungent creampie of hers only feels this good because at least ten horny men put their spunk deep into her cunt. Be it fat cocks, long ones, small, smelly, oddly shaped—Gaeul takes them all and her insides shape to each accordingly. For the horde of cocks it’s an incredible feeling with a surprising snugness, while Gaeul yearns and shouts (as long as there is no shaft testing her gag reflex) for them to finish quickly and deep. Though a marvelous feeling, she is never satisfied. She needs one more, she doesn’t even care if it’s the tiniest rest or a gigantic, creamy load—all that matters is that he cums inside her.

Gaeul’s once-animated and sex-crazed sexual partners have either left or completely passed out on the floor next to her bed—except lucky you, the only one lying naked next to her. Lucky you, who she now eyes, admiring your features while you're half asleep. She crawls over and gently flips you onto your back, stirring you awake in the process.

In your state of extreme grogginess, you aren't able to tell at first if you're being eaten alive or attacked by a savage animal. Just when your fight or flight response springs into action, a pair of lips press against yours. They instantly calm you down like a mothers embrace after a lucid nightmare. You can't help but smile unconsciously at how gentle it feels. Gaeul’s floral-scented shampoo reassures you who's currently kissing you, her touchy, wet and tender fingers reminding you of the first time she checked out your body…

It was a rainy night in one of the many underground bars in Seoul—the type of bar that makes you raise an eyebrow at first, someone with connections has recommended it, looks suspicious; then you fell into the trap of fun conversations and nice liquor that ultimately led to a selection ceremony. This was the moment you realized why this was not a commonly visited place.

Everyone went silent at her entry. Gaeul, the well-known (at least for most people that regularly visit these exclusive bars) gangbang queen was craving men tonight, many men. She was not picky, in fact, there was only one condition you had to fulfill:

“Three days worth of cum. If you had sex or jerked off during the last three days, you’re out for tonight.”

No one dared to defy her or lie to her. She diligently checked everyone’s balls and was extremely thorough, especially with you, who she gently pushed against a bar stool, hand past your waistband. Your breath hitched, hers too when her slender fingers caressed your balls.

“Tall, horny—and at least ten days of cum.

“I’d love for you to join the after party in my pink bed.”

That’s how Gaeul found you, touched you, lured you in and turned you on, like she does at this moment…

It's been minutes now, with no signs of stopping or letting go from Gaeul, her lips still fully attached to yours just to occasionally back off and peck at it again. The last remnants of a dream that could never match this disappear. They are replaced by memories that slowly creep back and your heart drops. You remember what happened not long ago, right on these pink sheets—don’t lie to yourself, you know it happens every other night.

Those soft lips of hers were satisfying other men not too long ago, fully enveloped around shafts of different shapes and sizes. That tongue of hers glided across the cockhead of multiple partners and made sure that no spot on their balls was left out. She would fill her mouth with as much manly musk and precum as she could before her throat was getting assaulted by who knows how many cocks, endlessly coating the back of it with thick cum and forcing her to gag and cry, which everyone knows is a huge turn on for the gangbang queen.

It’s those lips that form a seal around yours and it’s that mouth you attack lazily with your tongue.

Who are you to complain though? Gaeul is the greatest kisser your lips have ever met. Your obsession with her took control of your life even though you had no chance with her. You're just a nobody when Gaeul is the well-beloved queen. The gangbang queen - for those close enough to be her little circle filled with lust and desire. Yet somehow you saw a chance and took it, even if it means taking sloppy seconds (or thirds? Fifths? Wait, how many guys are here again?).

Your mind snaps back to the present when you feel your cock poking at her entrance. Hang on, did she even—fuck! You shiver in both pleasure and disgust. You're plunged into her sloppy cunt, extremely tight, even after being abused by multiple men (some girthier than the ridiculous sex toys she has in her collection). 

Gaeul’s walls hug your tip first, then slowly adjust to your size, like they have become your personal sexy toy. The pleasure really kicks in when the gangbang queen puts your hands on her hips and adds your name into the mixture of huffs and moans. Her incredibly damp cavern and how slippery her whole crotch is against your own, it displays a reality you don't want to admit: You're fucking Gaeul through the creampie of other men. Using the foreign substance as a sticky wannabe lube as you slowly ramp up your pace, you're thinking with your other head only; that’s not an uncommon occurrence with the gangbang queen around. 

Sex with her has you drunk, dazed, carelessly chasing your own high. You want to be the only one to have your load inside of her cunt. Gaeul yearns for breeding, and the sperm of all the other disgusting men, still unconscious in this room is deemed not enough. At this moment you decide to fuck the creampie out of her and replace it with your own.

You're frantically thrusting in and out of her, she replicates your passion as she rides you. Heaps of old cum get forced out with the assistance of gravity but mainly due to the pump that is your cock and the endless pumping into her cunt. Gaeul switches to a reverse cowgirl position and it's only now that you notice that her ass got absolutely filled as well. 

This should not be a surprise, she is the gangbang queen after all, yet you want to look away. This is exclusively other men's cum leaking out of Gaeul and onto your abs. It feels extremely wrong, fucking filthy and somewhat gross. The eagerness of the girl on your dick makes you forget that though. For a short while, you just admire her back, her small, shapely ass and the way her moans are in perfect harmony with the sound of flesh hitting flesh and cum being squeezed out. 

With your whole cock still buried inside her, bottoming her out, you two clumsily get into a mating press position. Gaeul is the most flexible girl you know, her small frame easily capable of folding and bending into every position you want. This position quickly becomes your favorite, because you don’t have to see her leaking asshole anymore, but you know that she is gaping and the worthless spunk steadily leaves her anal cavity. 

Every time you thrust into her, you see and feel her whole ass and thighs ripple. Shock waves across the smooth, stretched, spotless skin gets sent in all kinds of directions because you dig your hands into it. There's still a disgusting amount of cum defying gravity, defying your forceful pounding into Gaeul, but you are sure that if you just keep on fucking her, and press her whole body into the mattress, the petite gangbang queen will leak out all the rest. Through the lewdest of sounds and a clear lack of stamina, the thought of Gaeul filled with nothing but you pushes you through.

You feel the knot inside you loosen, strings and little last spurts of cum hitting her cervix as your tip is right up against it. Gaeul has her feet right up against your back, her heels pulling you deeper inside her. She's still rutting against you, her clit drawing circles against your crotch enjoying the friction and satisfaction it brings. The art of the orgasm, Gaeul has mastered it. In her scream, you find an infinite sea of bliss. It draws out your orgasm a few more seconds; perfect seconds.

Post-nut clarity kicks in and you try to block out the other people who are regaining consciousness in the room. Witness how ethereal her beauty is under the ceiling light. You want to kiss her. You want to tell her how much you love her. However, the harsh reality kicks in harder than the post-nut clarity as she shifts her gaze away from you and looks at the time. You close your eyes, take a deep breath to cherish just how fucking good her cock-warming cavern is. 

You pull away, unfazed at the mess in front of you at this point. Party time is over and you’re victorious but defeated, a bit deflated even. Why is the girl you’re falling for the wrong type of queen? 

"Hey..." Gaeul reaches out and grabs your forearm and pulls you a little closer to give you one last peck on your cheek. "Drive safely, okay?” Her fingers tiptoe towards your hand until it reaches the back of your it, her thumb gently rubs circles on it. A new level of intimacy that makes your heart stutter. “Message me when you’re back home."

[starions]

i didn't find my love, but i still made it this far without it.

pairing ; miguel o'hara x gn!spider!reader

words ; 1432

summary ; in every dimension you are loved dearly by all, and in every dimension, miguel gets you killed.

tags ; angst, mentions of death (reader dies... a lot), miguel is a stalker (with good intentions), allusions to comic!miguel, mentions of cheating, y/n isn't used, gender neutral pronouns

han's note ; i wrote this with my self-insert spidersona spiderette in mind lol but i tried to make reader as vague as possible <3 also i haven't written in a while and it shows. title is an ethel cain lyric. stream preacher's daughter.

;

The first time he had seen you, you were wearing a lab coat and helping him with his genetic tests at the Alchemax headquarters; the second time, your face was broadcasted on an “in memoriam” video on New York’s biggest news channel; and the third was you in your Spider suit, swinging around NYC. He never thought he’d see that face again.

The glow of orange screens burned into his vision, the beginnings of a migraine brewing behind his eyes. Miguel’s eyes narrowed at the screen, watching as you take down a villain in your dimension. You moved with grace, tying the villain up in your webs with ease, before turning them into the police. He mentally noted some skills that you could work on, like becoming more aware of the blindspot you had on your left side or cutting back on the quick quips that riled up the villain even more. Nevertheless, he hummed in approval, clicking off the video. He was in view of another window this time; you as you exited your apartment’s back window in your Spider suit. He gritted his teeth; you treated your job as Earth-799’s Spider-Person with such carelessness, such negligence. Yes, you had a good skill set that could become great with more work, more practice, but the indifference you had about concealing your identity irked him. Your mask only covered half your face, for God’s sake, and your hair wasn’t covered at all. Was this a game to you?

“You’re going to tear a chunk of that desk off again,” Lyla said, flickering above his shoulder. He grunted, looking down to see the talons extended from the pads of his fingers sinking into the material of the desk. He quickly yanked his hands off the desk, crossing his arms over his chest. Lyla looked him up and down, grinning mischievously. “You should just let them join already, instead of stalking them.”

“I’m not stalking them,” he retorted, closing out the window.

“Right right right,” Lyla responded. “What’s this then?” She snapped her fingers, and videos and videos of you pop into view; you shaking hands with Captain Stacy; you swinging around your Earth’s New York City; you enjoying your morning coffee on your balcony; you. You. You— 

“You have a problem dude.”

“It’s not like that,” Miguel said, a growl seeping into his words. “I’m just… making sure they are safe.”

“You could make them safer if you just let them join~”

“No.” Miguel rubbed his temples, glancing up to stare at you on the monitor.

Lyla tsked, checking her nails as if she was in dire need of a manicure. “How could I forget you had this self-loathing, cynical nature about you. Shielding them from yourself is just going to drive the both of us insane.”

“Lyla,” Miguel said, “activate ‘do not disturb’ mode.”

“Whatever, stalker.” With a roll of her eyes, Lyla flickered out of view, leaving Miguel alone. With only you.

His eyes are drawn to an advertisement in the background of one of the videos. You, in your Spider suit, advertising some energy drink on a giant screen in the middle of Times Square. Another screen showed you advertising some sort of athletic wear, and he could see someone dressed in your suit down below, taking pictures with tourists. Sure, Spider-People in almost every dimension take on advertisements, sell merchandise, and sign autographs. But everyone loved you, everyone wanted to get close to you. You even got J. Jonah Jameson to soften up to you with your cushy job as editor of The Daily Bugle.

In every dimension, everyone admired you, adored you, even. You were cherished by all.

And in every dimension, Miguel was the cause of your death.

Miguel gritted his teeth, a fang threatening to break the skin of his lip. The flood of incoming memories was doing nothing to dull the pain behind his eyes, and he slammed a fist into one of the monitors, watching as it flickered once, and all of the orange screens turned to black.

He held his head in his hand, mind drifting to the first dimension he had found you in. His dimension.

Absolutely intelligent, hard-working, ambitious, you joined Alchemax as an intern with the goal of being a top geneticist, like himself. As you moved up in the ranks, you became a member of Miguel’s team, tracked to design a serum that could allow anyone to gain superpowers. Miguel viewed you as a vital member of his team; obedient without needing to be, kind and optimistic despite the workload assigned to them all, and one to watch. With your brains and work ethic, you would have been at the top of Alchemax in no time.

Would have. It all went wrong, and it was his fault. You and him were both against using felons as test subjects for the serums, but it was out of both of your hands. You were only supposed to take the blood of the man they had injected with the serum, with Miguel monitoring the screen from outside the room. It happened instantaneously. The man in the hospital bed reacted negatively to the serum, growing the legs of a spider in seconds and grabbing you by the throat. Miguel watched in horror as the man wrapped his spider legs around your neck, slamming you over and over again against the cool tile walls.

The next thing he remembered was security gunning the man down, and him cradling you in his arms.

That was the first of the tragedies that plagued his life. When he decided to abandon his dimension for another one, one where he wasn’t afflicted by the role of Spider-Man, he was not expecting to find a dimension where he and you had a family together. For a split second, he imagined a world where he had taken you up on the offer of having a drink after work, if he answered those silly pictures you sent him more often. A world where the two of you had a family, and he didn’t have to take one over.

That thought collapsed when he saw what became of you in this new world. Miguel—this version of himself—didn’t love you. Not like he should have. After years of marriage, you discovered his lies, his deceit, his cheating. You seperated from him immediately, moving into your sister’s place as you began divorce and custody proceedings. Then, one night, while you were driving to your old apartment to pick up Gabriella, you were struck by a drunk driver.

You, this dimension’s favored meteorologist, were mourned for weeks. News channels across New York showed your face and aired your best segments in memoriam. New York City’s treasured weather forecaster, dead at the hands of a drunk driver, leaving behind a devastated husband and daughter. Even in this dimension, you were loved by all.

Miguel had killed you twice, and didn’t even know the second time. If that version of him hadn’t been so despicable, hadn’t thrown away something so precious, then you wouldn’t have been driving that night. It was his fault.

So when he saw that dimension’s Miguel be gunned down, what was he to do? Leave Gabriella to be an orphan? He couldn’t do that. Not to you. She’d be loved by a regretful father, and your memory would be kept alive until he died.

How naive he was.

“Earth to Miguel,” a voice chimed. Miguel stopped his self-inflicted mental torture to glare at Lyla.

“I thought I put you on ‘do not disturb’.”

“Have you not seen your watch blinking? Anomaly detected on Earth-799. Jess needs backup.”

His breath hitched, eyes trailing down to his Gizmo where he found several missed calls from Jess. “Send Hobie,” he said, voice lacking emotion. The thought of seeing you face to face made his stomach churn.

“He’s not available,” Lyla replied, pushing her heart shaped sunglasses up.

“Then send Peter B.,” he said, annoyance seeping into his voice.

“He’s in a ‘Daddy and Me’ class; he sent pictures, wanna see?” Lyla asked, pulling out her phone.

“No!” Miguel snapped, rubbing his forehead. “Send Ben, send Lego Peter, send Pav! Send anyone but me.”

Lyla tutted, shaking her head. “No one is available. Jess needs you, Miguel.”

Miguel cursed under his breath, his holographic mask suddenly covering his face. He tapped a few buttons on his Gizmo, eyes squinting at the brightness of the portal that opened next to his workstation. He took a step into the portal, praying that this time would be different.

[vodika-vibes]

Hello there Vod'ika

Just a quick warning I am dyslexia so I hope I type this right.

So just imagine Alpha 17 or Jango (or any of the hot clones that you can choose) "Take it off or I'll make you sweetheart". just if you're taking ask right now. If not I love your work.

Only Girl In his World

Summary: Life on Kamino is horrifically dull. Oh sure, you’re more than happy to share an apartment with Jango, but right now you don’t have anything to do since his son hasn’t been born yet. So you have to make your own fun.

Pairing: Jango Fett x F!Reader

Word Count: 1245

Warnings: Spicy ish. Reader is a brat, intentionally

Prompt: "Take it off or I'll make you, sweetheart."

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @kimiheartblade @mire-draws-things

A/N: You gave me the choice of writing Jango and I couldn't not do it, lol. I love him so much. Anyway, I hope you like it! Also, I have a fever of 102, so I'm so sorry if it doesn't make sense in some places.

Bored.

You are so very bored.

You twist on your bed and kick your bare feet up against the window. It’s cool to the touch, which tracks with the rain pouring from the sky on the other side.

Kamino sucks.

It does.

There’s no nightlife, which means you can’t go dancing unless you want to dance on your own, and it means no drinking because you are incapable of drinking the bitter swill that Jango calls alcohol.

There’s no entertainment at all in Tipoca City. No movie theaters. No cafes. No libraries. 

You heave out a heavy sigh and allow your head to fall off the bed, your hair brushing the floor and you look out the bedroom door and into the main part of the apartment that you share with Jango.

He’s not here now.

Oh. He’s on Kamino, but he’s not home now.

He has to go and get some testing done before the Kaminoans start gathering his genetic material to start the cloning process. A fact that he bitched about while you made breakfast for the pair of you this morning.

He hadn’t been very impressed when you pointed out that he was the one who agreed to a ten-year contract. Still, aside from a scowl and a tug of your hair, he wasn’t overly upset with you.

You still don’t have any regrets about agreeing to come with him.

Jango is Jango, after all. And you’d follow him into hell without question.

You try not to think about how you probably are before this whole thing is over.

You stay on your bed for a moment longer, before you heave out an explosive sigh and roll so that you topple on the floor. There has to be something here for you to do.

Some video games, some movies, something.

You poke around the living room for half an hour, and, upon finding nothing that will help you banish your boredom, you sit on the floor with an unhappy huff. 

“I should make Jango order me a game system.” You grouse to the empty room as you hit the button that will open the closet door, hoping against all hope that there might be something in there for you to do.

The only thing inside the closet, aside from towels and other linens, is Jango’s armor. 

He couldn’t wear it to the testing, after all.

“Honestly, would it kill him to put his armor in his room? What if I needed a towel?” You stand and lightly grab his helmet, absently turning it in your hands. 

It’s heavier than it looks. Jango always acts like it weighs almost nothing.

You lightly trail your fingers over the paint around the visor, easily finding scoring on the metal that wasn’t noticeable from a distance. You knew, logically, that Bounty Hunting was a dangerous profession.

And Jango is one of the best bounty hunters.

Somehow those two facts didn’t connect until just now, when you’re looking at the old damage to his armor.

Is that why Jango hired you for this role? So that his son will still have a guardian even if something happens to him?

How…depressing.

You jump when the apartment door slides open, and turn to look at Jango as he steps into the apartment.

Somehow he looks more annoyed now than he did when he left.

“I’m back.” Jango greets you and then pauses when he sees you holding his helmet, “What are you doing?”

You glance at his helmet and then at him, “I was looking for something to do.”

“And you grabbed my armor?” He asks amused.

You huff, and turn to place the helmet back on the stand, “I was hoping there would be something to keep me entertained in the closet, your armor nearly gave me a heart attack.” You say as you round back on him.

“That right?”

You set your hands on your hips, acid on the tip of your tongue, but you let the vitriol die when you see the look on his face, “How was the testing?” You ask instead, “You look exhausted.”

He makes a face, “I feel like a prized bull.”

“Well—”

“Do not.” Jango warns.

You shrug, “Look, we both know you’re here as their stud, Jango.”

He groans, “You went there. Of course you did.” He walks over to you and drops his forehead on your shoulder.

Absently, you card your fingers through his curls, “They can’t want that many more tests before they start gathering specimens for the cloning,” You offer in a, hopefully, soothing voice.

“At least two more months of testing.” He corrects as he shifts slightly so you can feel his warm breath against your neck.

“You poor thing.”

He pulls away and flashes a small smirk at you, “Distract me.”

“What? You want, like, stand-up comedy or something?”

You start when you feel his warm hands against the bare skin of your waist, one of his hands sliding up under your thin shirt. “I had something a little more entertaining in mind.”

“You know, at this point I might as well just move into your bedroom,” Your breath hitches as his thumb brushes the underside of your breast.

“Mm, sounds like a plan, we can get you moved after.”

You squeak as he crowds you back to the couch, bumping you against the back, “You’re going to be too exhausted to move me after,”

He growls against your neck, actually growls, and you release a shaky, and highly aroused, breath. Jango tugs on the hem of your shirt, “Take this off or I’ll make you, sweetheart.”

You should obey him. Jango likes it when you obey him. He gets all hot and bothered and gives you exactly what you want. Which is generally his mouth pressed against your pussy…but you don’t want to obey him today.

Today you’re feeling a little contrary.

You giggle and press your lips against a spot just under his ear, and you suck a mark onto his skin. Jango groans at your actions and pulls his face back away from your neck.

You lean in so your lips are just over his and a broad smile crosses your face, “Make me.” You whisper.

His gaze snaps to yours, and something predatory slides through his eyes, “If we weren’t on Kamino, ad’ika,” He almost purrs, “I would put you outside and tell you to run while I hunt you down.”

You feel a thrill of desire at the thought and are disappointed, once again, that you’re on Kamino.

“Don’t be so disappointed, brat,” Jango warns as he smoothly pulls your shirt off and tosses it to the side. He bites down on your shoulder, pulling a startled yelp from you, “You’re still going to be punished for being so disobedient.”

You giggle, “Oh no~”

There’s a spark of amusement on his handsome face, and his hand lands, heavily, on your ass, making you squeak. “Bedroom, ad’ika. I need to find my binders so I can punish you properly.” He roughly grabs your chin, “And you’d better be naked when I get in there.”

“Or what?” You ask cheekily.

He chuckles, a low noise that makes you shiver, “Well if you want to find out, continue disobeying me.”

He really isn’t making you want to obey him today. But a broad grin crosses your face as you turn and flounce into Jango’s bedroom, this is definitely a cure for your boredom.

[thequeenofthedisneyverse]

just wanna start off by saying your work is amazing and any hater that says is not can take this L. You got me hooked on the miles vampires fics no cap he is so ahhhh lol can you do one where he is a wolf and how would the reader react maybe she could be red riding hood 😂

(This GIF is so perfect you don't even know)

Enemies to lovers/ Forbidden love sort of thing I guess.

Brief story of who you are;

Everyone in town knew who you were, you were the youngest great great (many greats) grandchild of the monster hunting red riding hood herself. In fact, your whole family was known by that little trait alone. Not to mention that everyone in your family are monster hunters as well.

They had to carry on the legacy of course.

You weren't all quite fond of the idea however, you knew that there might be many monsters out there that could be kind or just misunderstood.

You knew that some monsters could be compromised with or captured without killing them. In most cases, some monsters have people within them that have no way of controlling that beastly thing inside them.

When you were younger, your mom was trying to make you throw a knife at a target that looked like a monster. But being a caring 7-year-old, you put the knife down, ran up to the test dummy, and hugged it.

"Y/n get of the dummy-"

"NO"

So, you only ever trained for self-defense, with minor training for field work. But this made your family worry about you. Lots of people knew who you were, that included monsters.

Many of these creatures have tried to take a family member of yours down. None have succeeded however, and nearly none have survived trying to take a hood down. Those that did were either tracked down and killed or hid really well.

-

Today was very gloomy and foggy, like extremely. Especially in the woods. Fog covered most of the sky and ground you walked on, but thankfully you knew your way around.

You couldn't help but feel watched, but if someone or thing was there, you can handle yourself. You're a hood after all, nothing to worry about. Not like you had a choice in the matter, anyone under 18 and over 12 would patrol the streets at night for anything unusual.

New York was one of the most well-known cities that hold monsters & criminals. Why civilians live there is a mystery to you, but you convinced most people living there aren't normal people species wise.

No one gets hurt while patrolling, if there are any odd disturbances you instantly call someone eligible to handle it themselves. Especially in your case.

So why didn't you? why didn't you call your older brother? Older sister?

I guess curiosity got the best of you when you saw a figure on top of a building with a familiar mask, staring at you. You knew who it was, it was the prowler.

That family has been a thorn in the side of your family for years. Your mom had told you that the prowler family was related to the first werewolf red riding hood took down. Ya'll have been enemies ever sense.

You don't know what the prowler family have been genetically modified with, but they are the hardest werewolves to catch. But that ends today, you know what the prowler family does.

Yeah, they kill other criminals, but most are just innocent people who got caught up in some mess. You hated that, and therefore, you did not plan on going easy on this prowler.

You silently followed him on, using your web shooter to help you most of the way. He was a quick fellow, you lost him a few minutes into the chase.

"Sh*t" your curse under your breath. You swing yourself on top of a building and try to use your locater to find him.

Once you open, you see a little white dot that marks where you are. But you noticed something, a red dot was quickly making it's way to you.

Before you can do anything, a figure knocks itself into you and manages to crash you both through the glass ceiling you were standing next to.

Your back stung badly but you had to pay attention to your surroundings right now. You could see a figure was making its way to you but you quickly cartwheel yourself away and stand into a fighting position.

This figure seemed...lanky, most werewolves aren't lanky, even in their human form. Werewolves mostly have a boxy menacing figure as they stand over you.

This werewolf isn't like that, which slightly concerns you. You also realized that this isn't the prowler you usually see on the news. This one is different.

"Should've minded your business hermosa" the distorted voice told you.

You didn't expect him to talk, and his voice made thoughtless for a moment.

"Call me hermosa again" You sternly threat, eyeing his every movement.

"oooh, a spicy one, too bad I'll have to end you...hermosa" He said teasingly.

If there's one thing you despised, it was being called a nickname by someone you didn't know. Especially men.

The prowler charges at you with a swipe of his metal claw

"I said not to CALL ME THAT" You yell, as you kick him in the face, he falls back but quickly gets up. Your kick somehow broke off half his mask, the right side fully showing half of his face.

You could see a bright gold eye staring back at you, the color somewhat enticing.

"MALDITA PERRA" The halfly masked figure yelled at you as he lunged forward. A deep loud growl in his tone.

He manages to land a few swipes and punches, but the same goes for him. One of his swipes knocks half of your masks off, you increasingly get more pissed, and he notices.

"Heh...an eye for an eye hermosa" he says, the distorter in his mask glitching in and out. You can partially hear what he sounds like, not like you care at the moment.

His snarky quips piss you off, and you let this one flaw out of you that you KNOW not the let out. Growing up, your one flaw when training was that you hated losing. You would let your anger get the better of you.

"Will you just STOP MOVING" you yell as you tried to punch him. Not landing a hit, he, however, lands a punch to your gut. His werewolf genes kicked in at that point, his punch pushed you to the other side of the empty building.

But this didn't stop you, before he could stomp your face in you moved out of the way. Both of you were tired at this point, and both of you knew, one of you had to go.

You both charged for each other and manage to punch each other at the same time. Knocking you both to the ground.

Now, you're and his mask are completely broken off your faces.

Before you could get up, the boy gets a hold of your neck and lifts you up. The boy was going to snap your neck but...you were gorgeous. From your eyes to your nose, to your lips, to your beautiful skin under the know fully showing moon light.

You eyed his features too. He had thin braids down to his neck, smooth dark skin, nice plump lips, to his jaw line. Everything about him was beautiful.

How you didn't notice he was partially choking you is beyond me.

"Damn" Is all this boy could say as he eyed you up and down.

He softly put you down, but neither of you stopped staring at each other.

"...Who...are you" you ask in wonderment as you reach for his scarred face. He didn't even move, he just let you cup his face, ever so slightly melting into it.

"Miles, Miles Morales" He said, his gorgeous golden eyes piercing into you.

"Y/n, Y/n L/n" You say.

"That's a pretty name pequena" He smirks, putting his hand on yours.

You both stay that way for a while, just taking in each other's essence. You noticed that his eyes weren't laced with seething rage anymore, instead his eyes were laced with something that you only say in your father when he looked at your mother.

Love

Miles noticed it too; he remembers how his mother used to look at his father. With pure love and adoration, your eyes were like that too. But how can that be? You two tried to kill each other less than two minutes ago.

A sound comes from your locater

"Y/n where are you? it's time to go."

This snaps you both out of your gaze, you hold your wrist up and assure your brother that you're on your way to him. As you look back to where Miles was, he was gone.

"Hmph, Miles Morales...I'll see you soon"

-

Yeah so there might be a part two to this, but I hope you like it.

Tags:

@clearskiiiess @pleasantalpacapirate @heartszg @purplemauves @s0dom1z34 @xenasolos @1uvvmi @multiversalfandomwriter222 @ladykimyyy @olwsem @saniyahgordan @dommie14 @solanawrld @purplepixie123 @we-like-icecream-here @mikeytheweirdo @miles-stargirl @snzzysstuff @solarisbugs @queenie-official @lxllypad @mrs-morales42 @r3allytir3d @mondayshiz @raemanova @hyunniesu @movie-enthusiast22 @anxiety-is-mymiddle-name @genderfluid-bastard @platonicallyalone @yourlocalreaper @a-nachronis-m @bunnybabylovesstuff @sleepy-phant0m @marimo331 @blkflowergrl @newjeansbonnie @lovelyfandomqueen @milena3lean @lonelydaydreamsalways @im-side-eyeing-your-assssss @sukiispeaks @wingedfanstarfish @mo-mode @redz-mp3 @vinselotr @mikeytheweirdoo

[kaminocasey]

We Were Golden Part 3

Summary: You get less than ideal news about your future with the Batch and of course they do something about it.

Pairing: Crosshair/F Medic!Reader , (Eventual???) Hunter/Reader

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI; Angst, anger, wounds

WC: 5.1K

A/N: I'm actually really excited to take you guys on this journey, because I promise you... If you think you know where this story is heading, no you don't. Or maybe you do. Idk lol. Either way, I'm excited.

Part 2

TAGLIST FORM

“How is he?” Hunter asks as he leans against the wall in the corridor. 

You smile softly at Hunter’s concern for Echo. “He’s fine. He’ll wake up soon.”

You lean against the wall, next to him, watching as Wrecker teases Tech and Crosshair about something. Hunter’s eyes are on you when you turn back to face him.

“What?” Your eyebrows raise.

“Nothing. You’re just really good at your job.” He smiles.

“I don’t really have a choice, do I?” You chuckle. 

“Not with them around.” He nods in the other guys’ direction.

“So true.” You nod in agreement as one of the shock troopers approaches Hunter. 

“You’re being summoned by the prime minister once you are done here.” He tells him.

Hunter glances at you with a roll of his eyes. “Sounds about right…” 

“Thank you.” You nod to the shock trooper, who nods back and walks back down the corridor from the way he came. 

“So anyway, I was thinking after our next mission, we could take a few days and-” Hunter starts but cuts himself off when he hears something behind the medbay door. “Echo’s awake.”

You push off the wall and start to walk into the medbay, reminding yourself to ask what Hunter was going to say, later. Right now, you need to tend to your batchmate. 

When you walk into the room, you hear the Azi unit rambling on about some numbers and then you make eye contact with Echo as you come over to his side to check on him.

“Ha! Told you he’s alive!” Wrecker booms, startling Echo slightly and then points at Crosshair. “You owe me two credits!”

You roll your eyes at Crosshair. “Please tell me you didn’t think that Echo wasn’t actually going to make it.

“CT-1409’s condition is stable.” The Azi droid speaks up, hovering in front of Omega. 

“See, Echo? You’ll be fine.” You squeeze his hand and he smiles up at you, slightly. 

“However, I have some distressing news for the rest of you.” Azi turns away from you and Echo. “According to your test results, you all appear to be genetically defective clones.”

“Tell me you’re not surprised.” You look over at Tech, who looks like he’s in deep thought.

“I will leave you to process the shock of this revelation.” The droid hovers away.

“We’ve got a problem.” Echo speaks up, sitting up more.

“Not really. We’re more deviant than we are defective.” Tech shrugs, but somehow you don’t think that’s what Echo was talking about. “Not that.” Echo shakes his head. “Admiral Tarkin is here. He’s the one evaluating the clones. 

“The same Tarkin from the Citadel rescue when you, uh…” Tech struggles to be delicate in choosing his words. “How shall I put this?”

You give him a soft, encouraging smile.

“Blew up?” Wrecker grins. 

You shake your head at the larger man and sit on the edge of the bed by Echo’s feet. 

“And turned into that.” Crosshair takes his toothpick out of his mouth and points it at Echo. 

You shoot the sniper a glare, knowing that you’re definitely going to give him an ear full later. There’s no reason for him to be so rude about Echo. You know that they’re completely different as people, but they’ve gotten along this far, right?

Echo doesn’t seem to mind Crosshair’s rude remark. He just sighs. “Yes, and he’s not a big supporter of clones.”

Hunter crosses his arms. “We’ll soon find out. We’ve been summoned by the Prime Minister.” 

“Guess he didn’t find that mess hall fight amusing. But I sure did.” Wrecker chuckles.

Of course he did. You’d expect nothing less from Wrecker. It’s one of the things that made you care about him, though. You wouldn’t change the man for anything.

“Come on. Let’s get this over with.” Hunter nods toward the door. 

Echo hops off the exam table and you start to follow him out of the medbay into the corridor. Being summoned by the Prime Minister was definitely not something you’re looking forward to. Prime Minister Lama Su gives you the creeps. In fact, most of the Kaminoans do. There’s definitely something… secretive about them. Something you couldn’t put your finger on. 

“Wait! The fight was my fault. I’m going too.” Omega zooms in front of the group before you can leave, halting you all. 

“Not happening. We’ll handle this.” Hunter tells her, walking past her. 

“But, I-” Omega starts again. 

“Listen, Kid… Our squad’s nothing but trouble.” Hunter tells her firmly. “For your sake, keep your distance. Got it?”

He has a point. A child has no place with this squad. You’re always in danger or on the move. You give her an apologetic nod and head out with Hunter, leaving the child behind in the medbay. 

As you walk down the corridor, you try to catch Crosshair’s eye, he just sideyes you like he used to do back in the early days before you got together. You quirk your own eyebrow up and he smirks, slightly… barely… 

“That was a good hit earlier.” Crosshair compliments you. 

You break into a grin immediately, appreciating the feeling of normalcy. His smirk goes straight to your heart, a reminder that this is the man that you love with your entire heart. The man you’d go to war for. The man that can’t imagine your life without. 

“Do you think that there’s a way for-” Echo starts to ask you, but you're cut off by a Corrie captain stopping your squad.

“Where do you think you’re going? The training facility is that way.” The captain tells you with a rather rude tone, making you all turn toward him.

It’s the captain from earlier. The one who told you that the war was over. 

“Training facility?” Hunter steps in front of you, clearly confused.

“For a battle simulation.” The captain approaches Hunter. “Admiral Tarkin has requested to see more of your squad in action.”

“Then, we are not being reprimanded?” Tech asks from behind the group now. 

“No, you’re being tested. Now go gear up.” The captain moves his helmet in a way to look at you. “Except you. You’re not needed.” 

“So, we’re not in trouble, and they want us to fight more?” Wrecker looks downright gleeful, playfully bumping elbows with Tech, who doesn’t look appreciative of it. “Ha! Maybe this Empire thing isn’t so bad after all.”

You follow the guys to the area that’s just below the training facility so that they can gear up and grab weapons. With Echo mentioning Tarkin, you can’t help the bad feeling in your stomach that just seems to get worse. 

“You got everything you need?” You ask Crosshair as he looks down at you. 

He nods, seemingly distant again, putting his helmet back on. You give his hand a squeeze anyway and he tilts his head at the action, staring down at your hands.

“Good luck.” You smile up at him, anyway.

“We’ve done this hundreds of times.” Crosshair tells you, voice modulated, just making him sound more distant. 

“Right. Of course.” You let go of his hand and walk over to Hunter.

“Watch out for him.” You pat him in his plastoid arm piece.

Hunter smiles with a nod and you start to walk past Wrecker who gives you a fist bump as you walk out. You have to trust that everything is going to work out. Everything is changing, you know that. You’re just going to have to change with the times, you suppose.

It’s been a while since you’ve been without the guys breathing down your neck so you decide to go do some investigating. You need to know more about this “Order 66”. Like, why it’s even a thing. Why would they have an order ready to execute all the Jedi? 

Making your way to one of the server rooms that you know will be clear of any personnel, you try to get into the brain of Tech, knowing he’d know exactly what to look for and where to look for it. 

Pulling up a seat, you try to get into the server, not finding it incredibly difficult. You type “Order 66” and “Execute Jedi” into the search at the top of the large screen. What comes up, confuses you even more.

There’s nothing there. At all. It doesn’t make any sort of sense. No information. No names of Jedi who were executed… 

You know that you’re going to need Tech for this. 

You clear out the search and start to make your way back toward your barracks, only stopping at the mess hall to grab something quick to eat since you didn’t really get to eat dinner. 

You hear your name called, fondly. When you turn, you’re met with brown eyes and orange sun rays.

“Commander.” You smile, widely. 

Before your time with the batch, you spent time with the 212th. That’s how you met the Batch. Through Commander Cody. 

“How are you?” He asks you as you start walking out of the mess hall with your light snack. 

“I’m…” You start but then remember General Kenobi. 

Did Cody… He wouldn’t… There’s no way. They were joined at the hip, a mutual respect between the two of them like you’ve never seen with the other generals. Other than Skywalker and his men. 

“I-I’m just really tired today. I’ve taken a couple of naps and still feel exhausted…” You try to ignore the nauseous feeling easing its way into your stomach again. 

Please don’t throw up… Please don’t fucking throw up…

“It was a long day for sure. But the great news is, the war is over.” Cody smiles. 

“Thank the Maker.” You nod as you get ready to turn down the corridor where your barracks are.

Even Cody seems… different. More rigid than usual. 

“Indeed.” Cody agrees with a nod. “Tell the boys I said hello.”

“I will.” You nod back and walk back down to your barracks, walking in and sitting in your bunk against the wall. 

Don’t think about Kenobi. Or Skywalker. Or Ahsoka Tano. Or or or… 

You sit your loaf on a napkin on the crate by your bed, your appetite suddenly gone. All you want to do is lay down again. Deciding to do that, you hear the door swish open. 

“Live rounds? They used live rounds! On us!” Wrecker storms in, angrily, bringing his fists down on the table. 

“We were there, Wrecker. We know.” Tech sets his kit down on his workstation. 

You sit up immediately, looking to Hunter for an explanation. “Live rounds?”

“I tried to warn you about Tarkin.” Echo says, a deep scowl on his face.

You get up and walk over to Wrecker to examine him, instantly unclicking his armor and letting it drop. Echo guides him over to a seat so that you can take a better look.

“Who’s that Imperial snake think he is?” Wrecker grumbles, hitting the table as you pull his shirt up to inspect the blaster shot to his chest. 

“Stow it, already. You got shot.” Crosshair says with a stone expression. “It happens all the time.” 

Wrecker looks like a kicked puppy and you give Crosshair a glare before turning back around to face Wrecker. 

“Echo, grab my kit.” You point over to it by your bed.

Echo goes over to your bed and grabs your kit as Tech starts to argue with Crosshair. “There’s a fundamental difference between taking fire in battle and being used for target practice.”

You nod in agreement, angrily. Tarkin has always been a sketchy sort of guy, from what you’ve heard. You have half a mind to go and give him a piece of yours. 

“Exactly! We’re not dummy droids.” Wrecker fires off at Crosshair. 

You’ve never seen Wrecker so worked up. It hurts your heart that Crosshair’s being like this, knowing that you still needed to find answers. Making a mental reminder to talk to Tech about it, you’re about to ask Wrecker to take his shirt off when you hear a voice in the doorway.

“That much we can agree on.” 

Everyone stops to look at the sinister looking figure in the doorway, standing in between to shock troopers. Tarkin gives Hunter a warning stare sending everyone into attention, backs straight, eyes ahead. Wrecker pushes you away slightly so that he can stand at attention. You refuse. You stare the gray haired governor down. How dare he use your squad as target practice… Wrecker could have been killed! And it wouldn’t have mattered at all to this man.

Hunter catches your eye and gives you a “Be respectful look.” so with a roll of your eyes so hard that they could pop out of your head, you stand at attention as well, in between Wrecker and Crosshair. 

“That was quite an impressive display.” Tarkin muses as he steps into the barracks. 

“Didn’t have much choice.” Hunter grumbles and you look over at him. 

He’s clearly incredibly unhappy with what went down in the training facility. You should’ve been there. You should’ve gone with them… You’re a part of this squad too.

“Our new Empire may have methods that seem a bit unorthodox, but so does this squadron.” Tarkin replies, looking at each man. “Both certainly have their merits.”

It sends your skin crawling, the way he’s looking at them… Like they’re objects… things.

“Nala Se speaks quite highly of her five enhanced clones.” Tarkin stops to look up at Wrecker, his eyes roving over Wrecker like he’s just a thing that can be bought or replaced. “She claims you're more capable than an army.”

The need to give this man a piece of your mind starts to become stronger, but Hunter gives you a warning look, almost as if he could read your thoughts. It’s always been like that… Hunter understands you more than you understand yourself a lot.

Tarkin doesn’t even glance your way, as if you’re invisible.

“You have a mission for us sir?” Hunter asks. 

“Indeed. We have tracked a group of insurgents to the Onderon sector. They must be dealt with.” Tarkin approaches Hunter. 

“What sort of insurgents?” Echo speaks up.

“Separatist forces intent on keeping the galaxy at war.” Tarkin tells him and you look up at Crosshair, who remains stone cold and expressionless. “If you neutralize this grave threat, you will be looked upon most favorably as I assess the needs of the Imperial Army.” 

“You, however, will no longer be needed.” Tarkin turns toward you. “You’re to meet with Mistress Nala Se when this squad leaves. I would say your goodbyes.”

At that, Tarkin nods and walks out of the barracks, leaving you and the Batch quiet. 

Saying your goodbyes? You don’t understand… You’ve only been with the Batch a year, but it feels longer… Like you’ve known them your whole life. How could you just leave them?

“Alright. Sit back down.” You guide Wrecker back down to the seat so that you can patch him up.

You can feel all the guys’ eyes on you but you need to focus on the large man in front of you, trying to remember to think before you speak. They’re all at a loss for words like you, probably. 

“Stop looking at me like that.” You turn to Echo, briefly, before returning your gaze to Wrecker. “And you too.”

“We… we didn’t think we’d ever have to say goodbye…” Wrecker mumbles, sadly. 

You finish patching him up and pat his shoulder lightly, giving him a sympathetic smile and shrug. “We knew this wouldn’t be forever.” 

When you turn to look at Crosshair, he’s watching you. But you ignore him and go to pack your bunk up. 

“I’m sure I’ll see you guys around.” You shrug.

Unsure of what else to say, you turn back around to face them. Hunter approaches you first and offers his hand. You look down at it for a moment before looking back up at him and then throw your arms around him. He seems startled for a moment but wraps his arms around you as well.

“Thanks for everything, sarge. I’ve learned a lot from you.” You pull away. “From all of you really. Especially you, Tech.” 

You smile over at the goggled clone and he looks slightly flustered, giving a nod and then fixing his goggles. 

You hug Echo next. He’s more accepting of your reassignment, knowing this is how it is in the military. But Wrecker looks like he’s about to cry. Wrecker doesn’t do well with change, you all know that, so it’s going to be up to the guys to try to help him adjust.

When you look at Crosshair, he just nods. It’s final and definitely a break up. But it doesn’t mean it hurts any less. 

“That’s all?” Echo asks him. “A nod?” 

“What, do you want to throw her a going away party?” Crosshair rolls his eyes, putting a toothpick between his lips. 

“It’s fine. It was never that serious anyway, right?” You shrug, grabbing your pack and then heading over to Tech to shake his hand, knowing he’s not the hugging type. 

He squeezes your hand a little longer, though, surprising even you. 

“You will be missed.” Tech murmurs. 

You smile up at him and nod. “You too.” 

When you let go, you head to the doorway, turning to look at them one more time. They all still look at a loss for words, but when you look at Crosshair, he’s sitting on his bunk, rubbing his forehead as if he’s got a headache. 

Oh well, not your problem anymore, right?

As you walk down the brightly lit, white corridors, you remember you didn’t even get to tell Tech about what you found. You’ll have to send him a transmission later, if possible. He’d be able to find out more, with or without your help. Not that he needs it anyway.

You try not to think about how much you’re really going to miss the guys. You try not to think about Crosshair and your past together, or Your and Hunter’s late night talks, or Echo’s trust in you to have his back, or Wrecker’s laugh when the two of you would goof off, or Tech’s ability to teach you something new every single day. 

This was going to be a huge change. Something you’re not ready or prepared for. 

“Do you want to know what I think?” Echo asks Crosshair as they’re in hyperspace on the way to Onderon.

“Don’t care.” Crosshair rolls his eyes. 

“I think you love her and you’re afraid to-” Echo starts.

“Shut up and mind your business. Before I make you.” Crosshair points his toothpick at Echo, warning him.

“Oh yeah? What are you gonna do?” Echo rolls his eyes. 

“Keep talking and you’ll find out.” Crosshair promises him.

“Aren’t you going to stop them?” Tech asks Hunter.

“Huh?” Hunter looks up, deep in thought. “Oh… Both of you shut up.” 

Echo and Crosshair listen to their sergeant and quit their bickering. It’s enough that they lost you… but to have in-fighting immediately after you’re gone? And then with Crosshair still acting weird, and the wariness he got from Omega trying to warn him about Kamino changing? It’s just too much for Hunter to handle right now.

“What are we going to do without her?” Wrecker grumbles from the cockpit doorway. 

“We can’t think about that right now, Wrecker. We need to focus on the mission.” Hunter sighs from the co-pilot seat. “I know it’s going to be hard, but we have to finish the mission. And then we can figure it out from there. Alright?” 

“Okay.” Wrecker mumbles and then goes back to the bunks.

The thing is… he doesn’t know. He never thought this far ahead. Not without you… He doesn’t know how he’s going to manage without your laugh or your smile every day. Or when you remind him that he needs to sleep. Or the way that you always seem to know exactly what he needs and how he knows what you need. The way that you’re both so in sync that it almost scares him…

How is he supposed to carry on like normal? What did they do before you, and why can’t he remember? 

When you make your way to Nala Se’s lab, you find the Azi droid from earlier. 

“Um, hello.” You wave. “I’m looking for Nala Se, have you seen her by chance?” 

“She went to find her medical assistant. She will be back momentarily.” The droid tells you.

“Thanks.” You nod and go to look out the window at the raging seas below. 

It’s raining and storming, of course. Nothing new for Kamino, but with all that’s going on, it just feels even more gloomy than usual. Like the sky is maybe a little too caliginous… Like what you feel on the inside without the Batch. 

You hear your name behind you and find Nala Se with Omega, who has a look of concern on her face, but when she sees you, the concern fades away and a look of relief takes its place.

“I was told to come find you, by Governor Tarkin.” You tell her.

“Yes, you will no longer be needed with Clone Force 99. I would like to give you the option to either stay here on Kamino and assist me, or you can join the new recruits coming in.” She tells you.

“New recruits?” You ask, confused.

“There will be a new army… of non clone humans. They will need medics as well.” She replies.

You look at Omega momentarily and she shakes her head. You tilt yours, confused. 

“Omega, will you go get Taun We please?” She asks the child. “Azi, please assist her and make sure she stays on task.”

“Yes, mistress.” Azi follows Omega to the door.

Omega gives you one last pleading look, which you still don’t understand. But you decide that no matter what, you’re going to figure it out. The Kaminoans have always been secretive about things, but you can’t help but think that this child has something to do with the Batch. Why else would she know who they were?

“I actually forgot some stuff in my barracks, so I’ll be back in a bit.” You lie to Nala Se. “If I run into Taun We, I’ll let her know my decision.”

The Kaminoan woman nods and you head back out and down the corridor to find Omega. And hopefully to also find some answers. 

“Pack up their gear and take it to the hangar.” You hear inside your barracks and then see a few troopers entering the room, one of them the Corrie captain from earlier. “You. You’re coming with me.”

You get to the door in time to see the captain trying to grab Omega and the Azi droid trying to stop him.

“Hey, why don’t you pick on someone your own size.” You get his attention in time to punch him in the helmet, a little stupidly, you might add, because pain shoots up your arm instantly. 

Ignoring the pain, you jump on the captain’s back trying to get him to let go of Omega, but unfortunately you don’t see the two other troopers come for you. You only feel a jolt of electricity shoot throughout your body, realizing you’ve just been stunned as you drift into unconsciousness, trying desperately to tell Omega to run. 

On the way back to Kamino, Hunter paces the Marauder, thinking about what the Empire is doing. He starts thinking about those innocent kids that Tarkin wasn’t even thinking twice about wiping out. He thinks about his argument with Crosshair. He thinks about you. About how it seemed pretty final between you and Crosshair. Would he ever stand a chance with you? It doesn’t matter right now. All that matters is getting you and Omega back, where you’ll be safe. He’ll keep you safe, no matter what it takes.

“I know why you’re really going back.” Crosshair tells Hunter when he’s back by the bunks.

Hunter doesn’t acknowledge him. He doesn’t have to. He knows what Crosshair’s going to say.

“Don’t think I don’t notice the way you look at her.” Crosshair sneers. “Or the way you pine after her like some lovesick pup.”

“You don’t know what you’re saying.” Hunter says, turning to face his brother, leaning against the wall.

Crosshair lets out an unamused laugh. “Don’t worry. I see the way she looks at you too.” 

Hunter’s chest tightens. What does Crosshair mean by that? 

“I guess since I’m done with her, you’re going to want a turn?” Crosshair continues to try to push Hunter’s buttons.

Hunter’s stare hardens. “You better stop talking, vod.” 

Crosshair smirks and walks back up into the cockpit. He was clearly not in his right frame of mind. There’s no way he’d actually ever say that about you, right? Hunter knows that Crosshair loves you. He’s heard the way that the man’s heart picks up when you enter a room. The way that Crosshair smiles at you when he thinks no one is watching. The way that Crosshair’s touch lingers on your body when they’re out in the field. 

Crosshair isn’t fooling Hunter and Hunter intends to find out what’s really making him act this way.

“Well, the plan wasn’t a total failure.” You hear Tech’s voice before you open your eyes. 

It’s followed by your name murmured by Hunter and then you feel hands on your face. 

“Goody…” You hear Crosshair’s voice.

You slowly open your eyes, a little disoriented, and try to sit up, rubbing your head and then remembering what happened. “O-Omega!” 

You try to stand up but Hunter pulls you back down, trying to brace you so he can keep you steady. 

“She’s here. She’s alright.” Hunter says.

When you look beside you, she waves, smiling sheepishly. 

“Where-” You look around, seeing the guys out of their armor, only in their bodysuits and then take notice that you’re in some sort of jail cell. 

“I warned you to not come back…” Omega tells Hunter. 

“Had to. We were looking for you.” Hunter smiles. “For both of you, actually.” 

“Me?” She points at herself, unable to believe it. 

“What do you say, kid? You wanna come with us or did we get captured for nothing?” He asks her.

You smile at her as you lean against Hunter, still not quite sure you can stand up just yet. 

“You came back for me?” She can’t believe it. 

The wonder in her eyes pulls at your heart-strings and then you realize that she wasn’t expecting anyone to come for her and that makes your heart clench. 

“That’s right. Or you can stay on Kamino if-” Hunter starts but she cuts him off.

“No, it’s like I said before. I want to go with you.” She insists, standing up. 

Hunter helps you stand long enough to sit you down on the bench against the wall.

“How touching.” Crosshair sneers from behind the group with crossed arms. 

You all look at him. He somehow doesn’t even look like himself right now. You know that this is him… obviously. But the way that he’s glaring at Hunter… At Omega… It just doesn’t sit well with you.

Hunter glares right back at his brother, looking like he’s prepared for a fight. You rarely see Hunter scowl so deeply.

Wrecker coughs, awkwardly. “Um, Hunter. How are we getting out of here?” 

Hunter’s glare doesn’t ease up. “I’m working on it.” 

Hunter and Crosshair continue to glare at each other in a way that seems deeper than what’s going on. You look at Crosshair but he refuses to break first. 

“You know what you should work on?” Crosshair steps toward Hunter with his finger pointing at the sergeant. “Explaining when you went soft.”

“Stow it, Crosshair.” Echo gives him a gentle push, not letting him get any closer to Hunter. 

You stand up, finally, your legs finally feeling a bit stronger, and step in front of Omega, protectively.

“Don’t you see we’re locked up in here because of him? He had us disobey orders.” Crosshair fumes, anger clear on his face for the first time ever. 

It worries you to see him like this. You just want the old Crosshair back. 

“I never thought you disobeying orders was a problem.” Tech fixes his goggles.

“Yeah. We do it all the time.” Wrecker tries to level with Crosshair, clearly not understanding why his brother is being like this either. 

“Good soldiers follow orders!” Crosshair tells his brothers angrily. “Every choice you’ve made since Kaller has been wrong. First, the padawan, then Gerrera. And now…” 

He glances at Omega and then you. As if you weren’t worth coming back for. He doesn’t have to say it. You know what he means. 

He looks back at Hunter. “You’re becoming a liability.” 

“We can debate my choices later. For now, let’s focus on getting outta here.” Hunter tells him, glancing at you to make sure you’re alright. 

“There’s that look again. The one you think no one notices.” Crosshair sneers with crossed arms. “Even though it's obvious to everyone.” 

Echo, Tech, and Wrecker look between Hunter and Crosshair, prepared to step in if Hunter’s gonna throw a punch. It’s not completely undeserved.

“Stop it.” You step in front of Crosshair, gently pushing him away from the group. “Stop saying things just to be hurtful.” 

“I’m only saying things that are true, Princess.” He shrugs, leaning in, voice low. “Besides, like I told him… now that I’m done with you, he can have you.”

This is the first time in a long time that you’ve ever been made to feel so… used… like you didn’t mean anything to him… 

With wide, hurt eyes, and anger coursing through your veins, you shove him away from you and go sit on the opposite side of the cell and don’t notice the way he sits down and rubs his temple. You also don’t notice the way that Omega goes to sit next to him. What you do notice is Echo sitting down next to you, placing an arm around your shoulder. 

“If… you want me to punch him… just let me know.” Echo murmurs, trying to get you to crack a smile.

It works, obviously, and you can’t help but chuckle. “Yeah, I may take you up on that just this once.” 

“We’ll figure it out.” Hunter tells you from the wall, quietly. You nod to him, not knowing exactly what he means by that. Does he mean what’s going on with Crosshair? Or this new Empire? Or with Omega? Or with… the two of you? Not that there’s really anything to figure out. He’s your best friend. Right?

TAGS:

@twistedstitcher27 @misogirl828 @rebel-finn @grievouus @madameminor @dumfanting @rain-on-kamino @corona-one @tecker @ladykatakuri @brynhildrmimi @the-sith-in-the-sky-with-diamond @zoeykallus @maulslittlemeowmeow @littlemousedroid @arctrooper69 @rexxdjarin @agenteliix @padawancat97 @hated-by-me @sleepingsun501 @quigonswife8 @idlenesses @redheadgirl @dnxgma @themcuwriter @ashotofspotchka @sunshinesdaydream @crosshairsimp73 @ariadnes-red-thread @rosmariner @heyitsaloy @starstofillmydream @high-ct5555 @echos-girlfriend @sleepywych @nekotaetae @justanothersadperson93 @brownstalebread @aconstructofamind @book-of-baba-fett @chopper-base @palliateclaw @501st-rexster @dead-poolz @nahoney22 @where-is-my-mind-tho @jediknightjana @erishimoon @witching3

[shinsmarlboro]

Shinichiro headcanons because I can't get this man out of my head, help.

TAGS: SFW && gender neutral reader.

i feel like he's genetically skinny (is this a weird hc lol?), i feel like he doesn't work out too much or maybe he'd just work on his core if he ever chooses to work out. (baby couldn't care less about working on his arms, they're already kind of toned anyways.)

he definitely has a few faint scars on his tummy, he's quite proud of them actually. 'battle scars.' he calls them. (even though he just got them from getting his ass handed to him.)

this man would wrap his legs around you in such a way that it'll be difficult for you to break free. good luck using the bathroom.

his eyes function like a cat istg, they get dilated if you should scare him or if he's anxious but expand when he sees you or is just excited in general.

this man's morning voice is deep and raspy. his voice is already deep and soft BUT LORD, his voice after waking up is just 👌🏿, he doesn't understand why you like it so much,.but he indulges in teasing you about it.

he's the type to glance at your lips occasionally while you're talking to him about something.

he's actually quite patient it's crazy. (that doesn't mean you test his waters until he blows a fuse.)

he gets jealous quite easily when he sees you talking to other men. you have to remind him that you're all his and nothing would change that. <3

definitely touch starved. simply running your fingers against his chest would have that man on cloud nine.

whenever his breath reeks of cigarettes and you point it out either verbally or non verbally, he'd get really embarrassed and offended then act all pouty.

can NOT cook for shit, he tried it once after he time leaped back to the past (even in the original timeline before manjiro died, all he ate was instant foods like noodles.) so he could spend more time with emma since he didn't have the opportunity to do so in the original timeline but instead got scolded by emma and got a glimpse of her smile at his clumsy actions.

if you're foreign and you pronounce a word wrong, he'd jokingly tease you about it (only if you don't mind, he wouldn't want to hurt your feelings.)

likes listening to your favorite songs even though they might not be in japanese, he blushes and thinks about you while listening to them (might even look up the lyrics. )

LOVES when you wear his white tees. (bonus points if you're not wearing anything but panties or boxers underneath.)

(shinwaka headcanon) wakasa is quite protective over shinichiro, he would tell you to be careful with shin as you're his first love.

if he has to babysit the akashi siblings when he was supposed to go out with you and you offer to help him out, shin will simply pass away. he would watch you play with those two cuties. senju absolutely adores you and haru's a little shy baby around you trying not to be too reckless so you don't scold him (baby would tear up if you scold him because he hates it, i mean it's bad enough his big bro scolds him and now you too? :( )

when shinichiro introduced you to his siblings, mikey had successfully embarrassed him by asking you constantly if you were being held hostage by him or if you had a bet with a friend to date him or something like that. but in reality, he's curious to know you who shinichiro would not stop gushing about and wants to know if you're good enough for his big bro. emma on the other hand, would just observe you from behind mikey or shinichiro for a while. when shin tells her to introduce herself to you, she just stares at you, before doing so meekly. if she likes you, she'd greet you with a vibrant "y/n!!" and address you like a younger sister would to her big sister/brother as well as a hug around your legs.

if you're a fashion icon, you bet your sweet ass that your love-struck boyfriend will take pictures of your ootd for your social media or just to bless his phone with your captivating beauty.

it's so easy to flirt with him, man gets flustered at the smallest things like a wink, close proximity, lip bite etcetera. (but don't be mistaken, shinichi has his moments where he's flirting back.)

his posture isn't that perfect but he manages to stand in an 'attractive' way if that makes sense.

shin has the prettiest hands, i'm talking about a couple of prominent veins here and there, slender long fingers, neat cuticles and rough palms.

he's a klutz when he's sleepy. one time while you were watching a movie with emma, he came back from work and through the ajar door leading to the hallway, you saw him yawn while walking then somehow managed to trip on air and stumble down the hall. you almost pissed yourself trying to laugh quietly.

[silkmoon777]

ATWOW | Neteyam Sully, pt. 5

"The further we walk along the sandbar, the further we are closed in. The Reef People stand at all sides; we are entirely at their mercy."

Synopsis: You and the Sully's have reached the Metkayina Clan at their seaside village, Awa’atlu. Their acceptance is something to be fought for, and despite your willingness, it is no less challenging. (A/N: this is just a bit of a world-building/filler chapter)

Pairing: Neteyam x Fem!Ometikaya OC (Gi'anya, or Gi for short)

Contains: established OC POV, mentions of menstruation if that makes you uncomfortable (mostly me projecting my health issues onto MC lol), less talking more thinking in this one,

Word count: 4,735

find the rest of the chapters in my masterlist here :)

• • • • •

By some miracle, the grazed bullet wound on my thigh has healed. No purplish bruises, no angry red hints of infection, no scab, not even the silvery hint of a scar. Unbroken blue skin takes its place. Cuts and bruises on both Sully brothers from the incident during their last raid have just begun to fade, all injuries that are less serious than mine for the most part. And yet I’ve healed days before they have even begun. I ran my fingers over the soft unmarred skin in wonder upon removing the bandage, and if I’m honest, it almost unsettled me. Though I’m not surprised. 

All my life this has happened. An accidental bite of my tongue heals in an hour, a graze on the knee scabbing over in two. Being called to my talents of healing and crafting, I do not often partake in hunts or any activity that entails injury. But on the rare occasion I do injure myself, nothing ever lasts. My body is untouched by scars. Even the littlest things like chapped lips and dry skin are almost nonexistent for me. Not to mention my immune system and stamina are impeccable, as if my body is in a constant state of replenishment too advanced to be natural.

I once brought it up to the human scientists who lived alongside us. One theorised that my cells work at an advanced rate, an attribute of my half-Avatar heritage (as far as we know, at least), and offered to run some tests. Already burnt out by the excessive and invasive tests for my unusual menstrual cycle, I declined. Count it as a miracle, I had reasoned. It’s best not to challenge something good. 

My conception and its mysteries have influenced a constant state of questioning. Nothing about who my mother and father are—or were. That is something I accepted to be lost in time. It's myself that I question. The five toes and fingers, the fine hairs on my brow and the queue stemming from the base of my skull were questions answered by the Sully children; having at least one Avatar parent gave the possibility of a few inherited traits. Those traits were black and white through the extensive knowledge of their creation. Perfect genetics concocted in a lab do not leave room for imperfections, and those perfect genetics did not include incredible cell sustainability. And then there’s my menstrual problems, something not recorded in Na’vi women and something not programmed into the Avatars. 

How, how, how… It’s a ruthless cycle of endless questions not meant to be answered. The regeneration doesn’t bother me as much. The menstrual problems, however…

Na’vi women experience their cycle twice a year at the height of their heat. The surge of their female hormones causes an extraordinary desire for a male counterpart shadowed by a light shedding of blood from the womb. Accompanying that is the slightest hint of pain and pressure. Nothing crippling, just noticeable enough to entice the occasional hiss and wince.

Eywa, do I envy the other women. 

Four times a year, I spiral into a week-long suffering so debilitating I wonder if the end is near. My presence from clan life is snuffed like a flame as I lay curled in my hut, a mess of tears and too much blood for me to handle. I spend most of those weeks submerged in lonely streams if I can make the journey without vomiting. Of course, I battle the same…wants as the other women. It dances with the debilitating pain in a dangerously tempting, mind-numbing tango.

The visits paid by a certain someone in those weeks are almost unbearable.

The scientists told me I display symptoms of disorders that are entirely human in nature, opening up a can of worms they were eager to explore, given my mysterious conception. They did the best they could with the limited knowledge and Na’vi adapted health equipment they had. Something was wrong, that much was concluded, but to know the extent of it would require surgeries and more of those terrible internal exams. In the end, I was left with no solid answer and extensive knowledge of the human menstrual cycle and its inherited flaws.

Oh well. There is no use thinking about it today of all days, especially with the bleeding stage of my cycle about a month away. Those four weeks are worth spending enjoying the moments I’m able to function. So I brush the thoughts away, instead testing the unbroken stretch of skin across my thigh. How strange…

Jake believes today will see our journey’s end. A flat expanse of water stretches out endlessly beneath the flock of Ikrans, reaching its watery grasp to each corner of the horizon. Soon enough, his prediction manifests.

Peaking from the endless ocean is the promise of land; spires of rocks and greenery that meld into staggering mountains dance in a misty haze on the horizon. Small islands orbit one gigantic one that reaches for the heavens with jagged fingers. A wall of arching roots exploding from the sea floor keeps the islands in a circle of calm waters, filtering out the strong currents and merciless waves beyond. As our Ikrans cross the protective boundaries, I get a glimpse of shallow pools climbing the natural walls, teeming with life. Not just the splash of a tail or glitter of scaled bodies, but intelligent life. Na’vi life.

We are here.

Greenish bodies pause in acts of play and leisure to turn skyward as our Ikrans soar past. Some point, some remain unreadable from this distance. Some dive into the waters below and disappear beneath marbling azure blues and emerald greens. 

The stretch between the wall and the main island is crossed in just a few minutes. My Ikran dives to skim the surface of the water. Small bodies of aquatic life jump through the calm ripples alongside Vaana as if in competition. It’s not long before they’re lost to the sea. Standing at attention along the approaching shore is a compact network of gigantic mangroves. Their great roots dive dramatically in and out of pale sand and crystal waters. Nestled into the root system are the woven huts and platforms that make up Awa’atlu, the settlement of the most westerly Metkayina village. We’re halfway when the deep bellow of a horn echoes across the bay.

The Metkayina dive from their platforms, abandon shore-side activities and emerge from the waters atop strange creatures as our Ikrans approach an outstretched catwalk of sand. A crowd has already gathered as the first of us touch down. Neytiri’s Ikran screeches a mighty cry. I run my hands along the stretch of Vaana’s white neck, fingers following the purple and black patterns as I silently urge her to remain quiet. Our arrival is meant to appear in some confidence, but too much may strike the wrong impression. 

I slide off Vaana, feet met with the unfamiliar scorch of hot sand. Sand beaches are not common in the jungles of Pandora and are often traded for natural pools and gushing waterfalls. Even then, the sand isn't nearly as fine, nor responsive to the heat of the sun. I share a wordless look with Kiri, who falls into step beside me as we shadow her brothers. With a nod she returns, I look ahead at the approaching people, pulling my woven shawl tight around my shoulders at the sight of them. Some brandish wooden spears, some carry children on their hips. Some appear curious, others cautious. And some…some look ready to strike. Yips and cries are passed between the Metkayina as Jake takes the lead, palms outstretched and arms flourishing in a sign of peace.

The further we walk along the sandbar, the further we are closed in. The Reef People stand at all sides; we are entirely at their mercy.

It doesn’t take a second look to see a striking difference in anatomy besides the obvious green skin and markings, which closely resemble ripples instead of stripes. In both males and females, their ribcages are wider, protruding in great contrast to their soft stomachs. A jutting form branches from elbow to pinky resembling that of a fish's fins. Thin and tufted tails are traded for oar-like ones, thicker and flat. While I try not to stare at one face for too long, I’m caught off guard by the blinks of blue eyes. Their eyes are double-lidded, one layer blinking towards the inner corners before the outer layers meet in the middle. Swirling designs cover their skin, etched permanently in black ink.

It shouldn’t take an expert to understand the difference; their bodies are built for the water.

The hushed whispers set me on edge. My ears prick this way and that as my brain attempts to pick apart every conversation. One woman leans towards her friend, whispering that she is unsure why we are here. It’s one of the more tame comments, and though I wish to bare teeth at some, I know it is not wise. They are right to be unsure, right to question what they do not know.

From the crowd, two boys that I assume are similar to my age emerge. The one in front is taller, staring us down through heavy brows. Intimidating. His black braided hair is pulled into a topknot high on his head. A leather band circles his thick bicep, stitched with small shards of iridescent paua shells and practically shouting his ranking. A warrior. Strapped to his grass loincloth is an impressive blade. Behind him, his shorter companion appears more curious, albeit still on the offence. He, too, carries a blade, but his arm is bare of a band. Neither of them is marked by the swirling tattoos.

As they advance, their gazes leave Jake and Neytiri to focus on us. Kiri and I linger a step behind Neteyam and Lo’ak, who incline their heads and draw two fingers from their foreheads outwards in a sign of respect. The gesture is not returned. Kiri and I make similar gestures regardless. Still, their ruthless stares do not soften.

The pair pass behind the brothers to reach Kiri and me, the two of us no longer able to cower behind the broad shields of Neteyam and Lo’ak’s backs. They turn over their shoulders to keep a close watch. In usual fashion, Lo’ak is distracted within seconds and his eyes travel elsewhere, melting into awe at something I cannot see. Neteyam, however, is entirely invested. There’s a sort of warning in the way he watches the Metkayina boys. The tall one seems to find it amusing.

The two are unapologetic in their dissecting stares, brows raising and lowering as they take us in. The taller one’s blue eyes remain on me longer. Too much longer. His gaze is too slow as it drags over my body, too curious. When our gazes meet, the hint of a smirk pricks at his full lips. It takes a ridiculous amount of will to school myself into indifference. I couldn’t be more thankful when his friend nudges at his arm, pointing at Neteyam’s swishing tail.

“Look, what is that?” He says with a bemused grin. “Is that supposed to be a tail?”

At his loud comment, a few curious onlookers giggle and laugh. His friend finds great amusement in it. Neteyam’s jaw clenches but, unsurprisingly, he chooses to remain silent. Not interested in childish jabs, I follow Lo’ak’s gaze to the shoreline, which has caught my attention in its intensity.

Emerging with grace so admirable it's envious, a Metkayina girl approaches. The sea of people part for her without hesitation. She’s important. Small braids stop behind her ears to unravel into a glistening shroud of black curls strong enough to resist the weight of water. Beads of water trickle down her heart-shaped face, following the curves of her soft cheekbones, the bridge of her nose, the plush of her full lips. The further it trickles, the further my eyes travel. Subtle curves, short but lean. Shells that reflect different colours upon each footstep are woven together with ropey twine to fashion the most beautiful top I’ve ever seen.

She was beautiful. Utterly beautiful. So much so that I envied it more than I envied her grace—not out of spite or self-hatred, of course. It’s impossible for me not to recognise her beauty out of awe. …An awe Lo’ak shares.

She approaches the two boys, sweet face souring as she hits away the shorter one’s outstretched hand.

“Do not. Rotxo. Aunong.”

Rotxo retracts his hand, grin falling at her tone. The other, Aunong, simply shakes his head, returning his gaze to stare me down. I try my best at faking obliviousness. 

The girl turns her gaze to regard us quietly, a vague calculation in her pale blue eyes. Nobody has shown outward kindness yet, and in a way, neither has she. All she does is regain courtesy. However, there’s an aura to her that sucks me in, catching me so off guard that I smile, shoulders relaxing. She doesn’t hesitate to smile back.

Lo’ak nods his head towards her. “Hey.”

She looks away with a flustered huff that almost resembles a giggle, as musical as her breathy voice. Lo’ak’s tail swishes.

Eywa, already?

Kiri sighs at her brother's eagerness, a sound quickly drowned out by a guttural bellow.

Launching from the calm waters come three creatures, all bones and scaled, sleek skin, fish-like and foreign. Close to the base of elongated, slim jaws clustered with razor teeth spread a pair of wings wide. Blue bodies melt into fiery wings not nearly as flexible as our Ikran’s and fin-like in structure. A smaller pair sprout further down the snake-like bodies, merging into a flat tail. Over the sand bar they fly, mounted by males who, without a second glance, appear to be decorated warriors. 

The creatures dive towards the water and submerge tail first. Spiked spines peak through the surface beneath the males. The first one to emerge onto the sandbar catches not only my attention, but the entire devoted attention of the Metkayina. They yip in response to his grunt. Tonowari.

Tonowari is the chief of the Metkayina tribe. If I had not known so already, it would have been obvious in his attire. His loincloth is impeccably detailed, with beaded swirls of purples, greens, and blues. Strapped to his chest is what must be their equivalent of a warrior belt to us; a curved, thick leather strap that comes from his left hip, crossing over his ribs and over his left shoulder. A spine-like design of shells decorates the piece, and around his neck a huge display of mollusc shells that dance in the space between purple and blue. A cloak of yellow feathers lines his broad shoulders before descending into braided orange yarn. 

With each slow, purposeful stride, Tonowari digs the head of his spear into the sand. The hostility he presents is not near as much as I had expected. He instead appears confused. Surprised. Swirling patterns inked in black stem from the point of his wide nose and the curve beneath his full lower lip. The patterns dip beneath his jaw and fall down his neck to cover his chest. Vaguely, they seem to ebb and flow like the soft lapping of waves against the shore.

“Olo’eyktan,” Tonowari says by way of greeting.

Jake bows his head, repeating the gesture his sons gave to the boys. Behind him, the rest of us bow our heads to do the same. “I see you, Tonowari.”

The chief of the Reef People returns the gesture. “Jake Sully.”

As Tonowari turns to greet Neytiri under customs was no longer required under our exile, a woman emerges from the tight-knit circle, clad in a get-up as exquisite as the chiefs. The Metkayina bow their heads and bear the spears skyward as she passes. At the sight of her less welcoming face, my stomach turns, recalling Jake’s warnings about today.

The Tsahik of the clan approaches her mate, hips swishing, sending ripples down an incredible grass skirt. There’s a fullness to her hips and roundness to her pale stomach that promises the bearing of a child. A thick netting tangled with shells hugs her throat tightly, falling down to cover her fuller breasts. Similarly to her mate, facial tattoos mark her face, stemming from her nose and beneath her lower lip, although more modest. Delicate. Where his covers all of his neck and chest, hers follows a central line from her mouth, over her throat and between her collarbones. It disappears at her sternum, reappearing beneath her breasts reaching her naval. A beautiful headpiece holding a flat shell against her forehead is tucked into a thick head of wild black hair. Her eyes are wide and aware, lips parted as if something is dying to be said.

“I see you, Ronal,” Jake says before she can question anything. Neytiri echoes his words. “Tsahik of the Metkayina.”

The Tsahik does not respond, painfully silent and painfully critical in her stare.

“Why do you come to us, Jake Sully?” Tonowari asks after a long pause.

Jake looks back at his family before answering. “We seek uturu.”

Ronal’s questioning eyes turn bewildered. “Uturu?”

Her judgment is off-putting, but I do not blame her. Uturu does not just mean a place to stay for the Na’vi, it means protection. Alliance. A welcoming into one’s way of life as if those seeking it were family. Acceptance is celebrated in our cultures but not without the allowance to question.

Jake nods. “Yes, sanctuary for my family.”

Tonowari seems torn as his mate wordlessly advances towards us, searching, judging. “We are Reef People. You are Forest People. Your skills will mean nothing here.”

Ronal levels Neteyam and Lo’ak with hard stares as she breezes behind their parents. The two of them lower their gazes out of respect, not the challenge that she seems to be searching for. I chew at the inner flesh of my cheeks as she comes Kiri and I’s way. Respect her, understand her. The first indication of negativity will have the Tsahik demanding our retreat.

“Well, we will learn your ways,” Jake reasons, turning back to give his mate a silent call for help. “Am I right?”

“Yes.”

Neytiri can barely breathe out her answer before the Tsahik’s hand wraps around her tail. It slips from her grasp as Neytiri turns. Their gazes meet, hard and demanding the other to speak first, but Ronal drifts away without paying her any more mind. Instead, she reaches for Tuk’s arm to hold it high above the child’s head.

“Their arms are thin,” she announces. Tuk backs away so fast that she stumbles from the comfort of her mother, instead thumping into her father’s thigh. Ronal continues, doing the same to Kiri as she had just done to Neytiri. “Their tails are weak. You will be slow in the water.”

With an indignant ‘ow’, Kiri snatches back her tail, holding the tufted end to her shawl-draped chest. An energy of incredulousness buzzes from my friend. I place a hand on Kiri’s shoulder, squeezing softly. Don’t bite back. Let her express her concerns. Kiri seems to heed my silent plea. When her gaze travels to me and the hand on her shoulder, I have to remind myself of the same plea. Especially when her three-fingered grasp pulls at my wrist.

Ronal is anything but gentle as turns my palm skyward, eyes jumping over each finger. She pulls at my other hand to do the same, recounting the extra digit over and over as if certain she has imagined it. Jaw hard, she raises my hands skyward so hard my shoulders ache in protest. I look to the sands below in shame.

“These children are not even true Na’vi!”

A collective gasp rolls through the crowd like a ripple in a lake, upset by the plunk of a skipped stone. This, I had expected. Beyond the forests, nowhere else on Pandora has seen the uncanny forms of the Avatars and their descendants. Na’vi are incredibly accepting in appearance, but our culture has never accounted for physical mutations, something unheard of throughout history. Instead, I’ve come to learn that acceptance lies in expression; the clothes you wear, the way your hair is done, the precious stones and woven jewellery decorating your body. All things controllable. I do not fit that narrative.

“Yes, we are,” Kiri counters, but Ronal has already had enough, prowling away as the murmurs and gasps continue.

The others look on, helplessly silent as she grabs for Lo’ak’s hand. It’s a rebuttal to Kiri’s comment, proof that we are not true Na’vi. I share a sympathetic look with Lo’ak, who runs his tongue behind his lower lip to subdue any arguments. There is nothing we can do but listen.

“They have demon blood!”

The murmurs grow deafeningly loud, horrified and angry. My ears flatten as I attempt to drown out their words. Some back away, positioning themselves on their haunches as if prepared to strike. Considering the wooden spears in their hand that happen to tilt down from the clouds…I wouldn’t be surprised.

 “Look. Look!” Jake brandishes his hand, extending his fingers and waving it before the Tsahik’s face. “Look, I was born of the Sky People and now I am Na’vi. All right? You can adapt.”

Unchanging in her display of disgust, all Ronal does is drop Lo’ak’s hand, drag her eyes venomously over his father’s face, and then prowl back to Tonowari’s side. Jake spreads his hands wide and turns to address the crowd.

“We can all adapt. Okay?”

At the ensuing silence and unsure look on the clan leader’s face, Neytiri steps forward. She regards the Tsahik with her chin purposefully high, looking down the flat bridge of her nose as if the female was her lesser counterpart instead of her equal. Unsurprisingly, it is Neytiri who is unapologetic and unafraid to display her distaste for our treatment. My respect for her is endless, but I cannot help but fear for the response.

“My husband was Toruk Makto,” she begins, voice dancing between contempt for the female and pride in her mate. “He led the clans to victory against the Sky People.”

Ronal scoffs. “This you call victory? Hiding amongst strangers? It seems Eywa has turned her back on you…Chosen One.”

At the sarcastic power behind the name thrown at Jake, Neytiri’s lips curl back into a livid scowl, fangs bared. Ronal reacts in kind by mirroring the look. The two women snarl at each other. Strangely, in their clashing, the Tsahik and Neytiri are incredibly alike. It is their stubborn pride in the protection of their people that cannot coexist. Jake places a hand between the two.

“I apologise for my mate,” he says slowly, trying to appease the Tsahik without offence to Neytiri. “She’s—”

“Do not apologise for me.”

“—flown a long way, and she’s exhausted.”

“Jake.”

Jake shoots her a look. With a huff, she falls back a step to remain in line with him.

“Toruk Makto is a great war leader!” Tonowari suddenly announces. At the dizzying speed that everyone's head turns, it seems we have all forgotten his presence, entirely captivated by the unnerving clash. He steps forward, a giant hand falling on Jake’s shoulder. “All Na’vi people know his story.”

The onlookers nod slowly, humming their hesitant agreements. Tuk tugs at her father’s arm as the Metkayinan chief addresses his people. He picks up his daughter, cradling her small body to his chest tightly. The image of him holding her as if he had just carried her across a battlefield, face twisted in desperation for a godly miracle to promise her safety, is signal enough. Its time.

Slowly, Kiri and I drift to either side of her mother. We are not shy in our closeness—we have a part to play, after all. Kiri flocks beneath her mother's outstretched arm, a hand reaching up to hold the one resting on her upper arm. Neytiri’s own free hand rests on my shoulder, her thumb running over the curve at the base of my neck. The great warrior that holds us has lost all hints of hostility, eyes downcast and touch comforting. Her sons stand as our shadows, towering over us women. I look back to see Lo’ak watching his mother with convincingly sad eyes. Neteyam gives me a reserved nod.

“But we Metkayina…are not at war.” Tonowari turns back to Jake then. “We cannot let you bring your war here.”

“I’m done with war. Okay?” Jake pleads. “I just want to keep my family safe.”

His quiet, defeated voice breaks beneath the anguish. For a moment, the chief and his mate go quiet, considering his request as they take us in. Weak, hopeless, broken. That’s how we look, just as Jake had instructed us to. The Metkayina would not sway easily; he had thought right. Manipulative as it was, we had to capitalise on our desperation, drag it out and brandish it like scars of war.

“Uturu has been asked.” With great difficulty, Neytiri repeats what we have come here for. It shames her to seek help from a foreign clan. To ask twice is unbearable.

Still, they remain silent, sharing an indecipherable look.

“Do we have to go now?” 

Tuk asks the question quietly against her father’s neck. He reaches his hand to her skull, cradling it in his palm to hush his daughter with the promise of everything being okay. Clever girl. The scene captivates Ronal entirely as if she had just witnessed Eywa herself descend from the heavens. Leave it up to the innocence of a child and the threat of danger to pull on even the coldest heartstrings. 

One million words are spoken between the chief and his mate, but not one lands on my ears. Through raised brows, lowered eyes, hard jaws and pursed lips, they soundlessly speak entire conversations, going over the risks and the gains, what is morally right but what is wrong for their people. A sigh, a nod, then…

“Toruk Makto and his family will stay with us.”

My heart flutters. A breath I had not known I was holding escapes my lips. Neytiri squeezes my shoulder.

“Treat them as our brothers and sisters,” he continues, speaking to the contrasting sea of emotions that surrounds us. “Now, they do not know the sea, so they will be like babies taking their first breath. Teach them our ways so they do not suffer the shame of being useless.”

Jake chuckles softly, bewildered. To Tuk, he murmurs, “Hey, what do we say?”

Tuk looks to the chief with a beaming, utterly youthful smile. “Thank you.”

The praise is echoed between us. Kiri’s voice is an unenthusiastic whisper, barely anything more than a breath as she does the same.

“My son, Aunong, our daughter, Tsireya, will show your children what to do.” 

Tonowari gestures to his children as he speaks, first the tall boy with the wandering eyes, then the pretty girl who had told him off earlier. Tsireya beams at us, and so far the only person happy with our arrival, and I couldn’t be more relieved that she will be the one to show us our new way of life. Her brother, on the other hand, looks mortified. I’m just as displeased that he has to do the same.

“Father, why do—”

“It is decided.” Tonowari cuts him off firmly with a pointed finger and a shove of his spear into the sand. Aunong stares his father down.

“Come!” Tsireya wastes no time in skipping towards us, breezing past the boys with a welcoming smile towards Kiri and I. She takes my hands in hers and pulls me away from the confinements of the circle. At first, our arrival was unbearable, dragging out like a terrible memory on repeat to torture me. Now, the pace has kicked up, and everything moves too fast for me to comprehend. “I will show you our village.”

I smile back at Tsireya. First impressions mean nothing, I tell myself. So what if the rest of the Metkayina are hesitant to accept us? As long as I can find a friend in the chief's joyous daughter, our time here may not be so bad.

[amber-tortoiseshell]

hi!! i'm trying to figure out widebanding & the multiple CORIN alleles & i am Struggling. do you have any idea what's going on here??? this is what i've got:

- sunshine = wbSIB (recessive), but when a cat has I/- wbSIB/wbSIB, this produces a bimetallic cat instead silver shaded/chinchilla??

- goldenSib = ???? is it just a "basic" wideband that interacts w/ inhibitor gene typically????? or something else entirely???? extreme sunshine maybe??? so confused Dx

- copper = wbBSH, obviously breed specific. gives that white belly look. i assume it also interacts normally w/ pigment inhibitor

- sorrel is in Bengals & it has the white belly look & we don't know much more?

is there an allele for the golden tabby look where it's like black (or whatever color) markings against golden fur? or is it just an aspect of the variable expression in widebanding?

Hello! I'll try to help as much as i can 😊

[I accidentally wrote a very long answer so here's a break for everyone's convience]

So!

Sunshine (wbSIB) és extreme sunshine (wbeSIB) respectively results in the sunshine and extreme sunshine phenotypes. And yes, you're right, sunshine+inhibitor=bimetal, there's no silver shaded from this, you need an other wideband gene for that. (Since CORIN is the only identified wb gene, it's entirely possible that there are several more which are able to produce chinchilla and silver shaded colors).

Sunshine and sunshine silver from the Chatterie de Sib'Adventures

I think right now goldensib is used for both "normal" golden siberians and sunshines (without inhibitor), especially since they are not always distinguished properly. Sunshine is still a new term, and not everyone uses it. I think we have to wait at least a few years to let everything sink down, every gene properly written down and then the terminology will come around. (I mean. Most likely it won't be a nice logical system even then because when are these kind of naming systems nice and accurate? Never. Lol.)

For example here's the Vistula cattery with beautiful silver and golden cats. They don't use the name "sunshine", however they use "bimetallic", which can't be anything else but sunshine.

According to the breeder, Unikol is black bimetallic (code nus), Tolstoy is black golden (code ny). The litter born from this pairing is listed in the post of the cattery as the following:

4 black bimetallic female

1 black silver mackerel female

2 blue golden or blue bimetallic male

1 black bimetallic male

What's going on here? Sunshine (including bimetal) is recessive, so Tolstoy must carry it; and since the cattery doesn't use the term 'sunshine', only golden, maybe sunshine he really is (and his color code would be more precise as 'nu'). However they had a silver kit, which suggests another type of golden (two sunshines can't have non-sunshine offspring), if her id is correct. Then Tolstoy would be heterozygous for two different golden genes. (I think it's very likely that different wide band genes are often intermingled like this, since golden programs can include all of them.)

All in all my point is that in practice goldensib can mean any wideband-type color.

Now to move onto the british allele. Actually I think CORIN wbBSH + inhibitor can gives bimetals too. But since other wide band genes are very clearly present and mixed into the corin lines, i'm pretty sure lots of copper/flaxen/sunshine/akita/whatever british cats carry several different wide band alleles, and together they can make these cats look very light.

This kitten for example was tested homozygote wbBSH/wbBSH.

On the other hand there are cats like this:

which i really can't call anything but bimetal.

Here and here are two facebook groups about CORIN british cats. (The genetic codes used there work like this: 'cop' is wbBSH, 'n' is Wb. So cop/cop is a copper, cop/n is a carrier (if the allele is fully recessive which i'm actually not sure anymore?), n/n is a non-carrier. The 'lightning gene' term is also used sometimes, it's most likely simply the inhibitor.)

I think all we know about the CORIN mutations in bengals are from this article.

Corin loss-of-function mutations, including missense mutations in domestic cats and the tiger, are responsible for autosomal recessive forms of golden coat color. In Bengal cats, AsipPb and CorinPb allele frequencies are correlated with the categorical ranking of color variation, but in opposing directions. Asiplc allele frequencies decrease and Corinlc alleles frequencies increase as coat color transitions from grey-brown to red-orange color tones across individuals (Figure 4A - [see above]).

I don't think the sorrel coloration was ever explicitly associated with CORIN mutations, but since they correlate with warm colors, it's a fair assumption.

As for your last question, i think this is about the degree of the wide banding. When the wide bands aren't that wide yet (golden blotched tabby instead of golden shaded), the black pigments are still visible.

Most organisations differentiate between four levels of wide banding (in goldens and three levels in silver which annoys me a little).

n 21-25 - black (brown) * tabby

ny 21-25 - black golden * tabby

ny 11 - black golden shaded/shell tabby

ny 12 - black golden tipped/chinchilla tabby

* = blotched/classic/mackerel/spotted/ticked

And these categories aren't discrete, this is a scale. So I think goldens with black markings are just those on the lower end of the scale.

Most likely you've already seen this website, but Little Carnivore also have nice summaries about different genes, including CORIN, which i linked. It also has lots of pictures!

[badbatchergray]

Dying spirits (chapter 2)

Dying spirits master list -https://www.tumblr.com/badbatchergray/742948447929417728/dying-spirits-chapter-1

A/n- SPOILERS FOR SEASON 3 MIDDLE OF EPISODE 1

IF YOU DIDN'T WATCH YET PLEASE DO NOT READ AND READ AFTER YOU WATCH ⚠️‼️‼️

But enjoy the first chapter for this series for those who do read 🤠, there will be a use of y/n and this is female reader , so uh enjoy lol. Also don’t shit on me for my writing , I’m tired but I swear my writings decent. Also I didnt proofread anything 😭

***************

Omega walked the halls , keeping silent as she focused on the task ahead of her. She walked the halls , keeping an eye out as she saw commandos and other troopers guarding certain areas. Eventually she made her way in front of a door that was being guarded by two commandos that were on guard and she stood there for a moment waiting for them to let her through and after a few seconds one of the commandos turned and opened up the door and As the door slid up an open the commandos stood out of her way and let her through. She kept her eyes ahead as she entered the corridor and she looked up seeing a small device that illuminated off a blue light from all four corners , scanning her for confirmation and a the next door in front of her slid open as well giving her access to the lab.

As she entered the lab she looked around seeing medical droids that were working , some floating around working on test results and others that were cleaning up around and doing what they were programmed to do. She looked around for another moment before spotting Nala se who had been working as well, taking blood samples and putting it into this centrifuge like contraption. As Nala se grabbed another vile she inspected it before placing it in one of the compartments of the centrifuge and she clicked a button as it turned and opened up another pod , waiting for another sample to be placed. Before Nala se could get another in she turned , seeing omega holding the samples and she walked over and she took the tests from her gently.

“Thank you omega.”

Nala se spoke gently as she took the tray from her setting it down on another scanner.Omega let off a small smile and she watched as Nala se placed the samples under the scanner watching as it scanned over , confirming who’s blood samples were whos and Nala se watched as all the information popped up on the screen next to her showing all those who had there blood taken. Nala noticed one fimiliar ID and she clicked on it to show omegas profile and she turned her head looking down at her once assistant.

“Omega..your sample was taken?”

Nala se questioned an omega nodded.

“Emerie said it was routine.”

Omega answered and Nala se turned around before clicking on omegas ID and deleting her profile information and taking the blood sample they had drawn from her and into a insinerator where it would be destroyed in an instant.

“Why are you discarding it?”

Omega said confused as she looked up at her mentor.

“Tell no one..it is safer this way.”

Nala spoke quietly now as she continued working around as normal.

“This research..it’s not like what we did on kamino is it…”

Omega muttered and Nala se shook her head.

“No..it is not.”

She answered as she continued placing the samples into the centrifuge like device.

“I don’t understand, why did they bring me here.”

Omega remakred.

“To ensure i cooperate, the empire seeks the reproduction of the genetic encom but the experiments on specimens have yet to yeild yet the desired results”

Nala explained as she watched as the tests were mixed.

“What specimens?”

Omega asked as her thoughts ran.

“You mean the clones?”

She questioned and Nala shook her head.

“No not clones.”

She responded but before she could get another word out hemlock had entered the lab.His hands behind his back as well as a commando following behind him as he kept a smug grin on his face.

“How nice to see you reunited with your trusted assistant. I’m sure omegas presence here will only strengthen your efforts.”

He started before standing back and gesturing to the hallway. Nala se stepped up and went to head forward and omega went to follow but nala stopped her as she placed her hand on her shoulder.

“See to your remaining task.”

Nala spoke as to say “stay here and keep working.” Omega had a confused look on her face but she complied as she watched as Nala walked out of the lab with hemlock and omega kept quiet as she watched them through the pan window as they walk off and into the hallways.

She let off a sigh and walked off as she went to do her tasks that she was given. She walked down into one of the rooms where it reeked of dog , dirt and more. There was one droid patrolling around making sure everything was in order and running seemingly smoothly. Omegas current task at hand was to feed the hounds that have been running on patrol and have been called back for feeding. Omega picked up the metal scooper from the food container and she looked at the droid as she watched it roamed around and she shook her head as she scooped some food into one of the hounds feeders and she sneakily grabbed her lunchbox that she takes with her most places and opened up her lunch box and grabbed some hay that was on the floor and placed it in the bottom compartment of the box and she she closed it keeping quiet as she made sure no droids could see her.As she closed her lunchbox container she walked over to one of the cages where one hound lied in the back keeping a low growl as it noticed her.

“Hi batcher.”

Omega said softly as she looked at the creature , looking off to the side seeing that it hadn’t eaten the food that she had given it. As omega was working around the faculty she tried befriending one of the guard hounds that were used for work. She named them batcher. Omega was one to try and befriend all sorts of creatures but she was smart to be careful as to not get hurt. She looked off to the side and sighed as she saw the hound still in the far end of the cage and she spoke.

“Still didn’t eat the food I gave you…I don’t blame you.”

She spoke as she looked around making sure the droid that was currently with her couldn’t see and she went into her lunch box and she grabbed the food that she had saved for the hound.

“Here I saved you some of mine.”

She says as she grabbed a handful of the food she had saved and she reached behind the bars of the cage , holding out her hand as she hoped for the hound to eat.The hound got up with a low growl and stood hesitant as it smelled the air , smelling the food that she held out. Before anything else could happen the hound lunged forward causing omega to stumble back , dropping the food into the cage leaving it on the floor and she watched as she saw the hound smell the food before eating it in one go only to go and lie back down in the far end of the cave where it had originally been. Omega stood back up and brushed herself off as she observed and she watched for a moment.

“Better?”

She questioned as if the hound would answer back as she watched it chew on bits and pieces of whatever was lying around it’s dark enclosure.

“I’ll bring you more tomorrow.”

She whispered before getting a move on heading out to where prisoners am or experiments were held. As she walked down the hallways she saw mostly clones lying around , some sitting in their cells with distraught and frightened looks while others stood with a look of sadness and lost hope. It was like walking through a shelter filled with animals , each of them lined up sitting in a cell waiting for nothing as time passed. As omega spotted one cell she kneeled down and looked through the gate and saw crosshair lying down on a thin mattress as he stared at the ceiling.

“Crosshair. Crosshair.”

She whispered trying to get his attention.

“I tried to come earlier but there were too many guards.”

She whispered as she checked around her again to make sure one one was around to catch her.

“You shouldn’t be down here in the hold.”

Crosshair says quietly and omega sighed.

“How else are we gonna plan an escape?”

She questioned and he looked towards her before averting his gaze back into the ceiling.

“There is no we, and there’s is no escape. I already tried.”

He explained as he sat up and looked at omega through the bars of his hold.

“Every stronghold has an escape , a weak point. Maybe I can convince emerie to help us.”

Omega tried coming up with a plan and crosshair looked at omega with a firm gaze.

“Not every clone is your ally , you trust to easily.”

He says calmly yet firmly.

“Maybe you don’t trust enough.”

She retorted as she saw crosshairs hand shake a bit. She watched as crosshair stood silent , rubbing his palms and she thought of you again and her face lit up.

“Y'know y/n was wondering about you.”

Omega started and crosshair raised a brow.

“Who’s that?”

He looked at her and she let off a small smile.

“She’s part of the squad , we met her awhile back on ord mantell , she’s really nice to me and kinda like you in a way but she also protective like wrecker…and smart like tech..”

Her voice grew quiet as she saw crosshair show little to no interest in hearing about you,

“Crosshair?”

She asked again and he closed his eyes and looked away.

“Just go..before you make things worse for both of us.”

He says firmly and omega backs up and keeps quiet as she turned away and got ready to head off.

“There has to be a way out of here alright…I’ll find it…and one day when we’re back together soon enough you’ll meet y/n…you’ll meet her.”

She says she she headed off down the hallway and back to her cell room.

+*********

She stood scratching another tally into the wall that marked the amount of days she has spent so far in the facility. About 21 days so far , almsot a month and she sighs and she looked at the tally’s and out the window before stepping down onto her bed and she grabbed her lunchbox from under her bed and she grabbed the hay she had taken from the shelter unti where the hounds were and she started to fix some into the doll she had made. It was a replica of Lula. She stood carefully placing the hay into the doll and once she finished with that she looked at her creation and smiled to herself as she felt some sort of comfort and relief and she looked back at the tally’s and sighed. She missed you and the others , she missed pabu and Phee but most of all she missed tech.She snuggled up to her makeshift Lula doll and she sat back near her window , gazing out of it as she saw the night sky , feeling the soft wind deep through allowing a comforting smell of the earth to be sensed.

It was a long day and she new that Tomorrow lied ahead for each founding day was another problem yet again.

[seashellblue]

The big art dump.

I'm returning a lender iPad soon so I figured I'd treat tumblr as an image hosting website and throw all my recent artwork on here instead.

Theoretically it would be betting for metrics if I spread out my posts instead of doing them all at once... but I don't really plan on becoming a social media influencer anyway and tumblr was supposed to be the one place left that free of all that stuff lol

I'm just happy with the fact I can store these images here ~

Full explanation of the lore n' stuff under the cut!

1-2 - Misc. Drawings

Just a landscape test to get used to a new program (Fresco) and a still life referenced from a photo of some flowers in a vase.

3 - The Initiates

Mostly-undeveloped urban fantasy story, I think it's got a killer group of main character but I can't seem to find a good villain to pit them against or plot beats to work through. Currently still using placeholder names too, from left to right are Silver (monster hunter), Gold (witch), Green (werewolf) and Red (vampire).

4-5 - Ocean of Green

If you can't tell by the Hollow Knight bug in image 5, Ocean of Green is basically me just indulging in my love of Hollow Knight's entire artistic direction and style. Although there's also a bit of Sky: Children of the Light and Kuneho in there as well.

Plot's pretty weak, and that's probably the main reason why I don't feel the motivation to nail down some character designs I actually want to work with. Everything above just doesn't hit the right spot, at least for now.

Image 4 is mostly the twins Wisteria (ponytail) and Gahnia (no ponytail). Then 5 is more Wisteria (ponytail + the design with antlers), more Gahnia (anything with red hair) and another character called Nymphae (five-leaf crown).

6-8 - Crow's Orbit

This was a space opera, mostly combining some of the passing knowledge I heard about Star Wars (never watched it myself), plus a bit of Chinese mythology and a very small pinch of xianxia (once again, don't extensively follow the genre, so only a very small amount of inspiration).

The drawings were mostly me just figuring out the design for the main alien species of the setting, using some secondary characters from the story as a testing ground. Ultimately I'm actually quite happy with what I ended up with. Pictured from left to right are (and you'll have to forgive me for the unpronounceable alien names);

Xaashidean “Ash” (red), and Vivryaahnix "Annex" (blue-white) of the Xilica. A silicon-based species that uses psychic powers to levitate and maintain a constant operating temperature of 500° Celsius.

Yrii-Yhroande "Hira" of the Kyurione, a combination of two lifeforms existing in symbiosis like a herbivorous boar-like animal and a carnivorous plant. Bit like a green sea slug, haha.

Then lastly, Ze'Zreyin "Zevs" of the Varan'ze. Parasitic lifeforms that resemble larva, specialized in consuming and replacing the brains of their ecosystem's lifeforms. That, combined with a mastery of genetic engineering allow the Varan'ze to custom make their bodies to excel at any task. Under normal circumstances, Varan'ze act under a psychic hive mind, with their consciousness thinking of itself as a singular organism - a bit like how we think of ourselves as individuals despite being made of of a near incomprehensible multitude of cells.

9-10 - Burnished / Icosah

Probably one of my most developed worlds from a pure worldbuilding / cultural standpoint, mostly because it's designed more to be a TTRPG setting than for a standalone comic or webnovel. First image is a map of the two habitable continents with the major regions colour-coded, but not labelled... You're not missing out on much the names are all unpronounceable lol

Second image is just a quick doodle of some characters, left one is a weird Aasimar with a name I must omit due to potential future spoilers for a D&D campaign, right one's a Drow called Zinrena Aranriira. The character arc that poor girl goes through, oof...

11-18 - Everyone Loves A Songbird

... You can tell I have a bit of a preference for this one.

Just a heap of character designs with a pair of light doodles / joke drawings at the end. Story's still in early development so they all have placeholder names (this is my excuse for the names being dumb and nonsensical).

First green image is of the story's protagonists, [Half-Moon] (a reserved but kindhearted cleric with a few secrets to hide) and [Devouring Blue] (says he's a bard but seems like they're just a bit too good at martial arts for that to not be a lie). Three images below that are [Half-Moon]'s starting design from the story's beginning, his demon form (the angst is never-ending, he really is the crawling in my crawl of our generation), and an outfit update [Devouring Blue] gets about a third of the way into the story.

Next two are [The Pine Tree], a young king with a few too many enemies and not enough allies to spare, and [Yellow Ribbon], [Devouring Blue]'s estranged older brother.

As for the joke drawings, I know they're a little messy, so I'll clarify that the first one's [Half-Moon] and [The Pine Tree] and the second is [Half-Moon] and [Devouring Blue].

And yeah, that's about it!

[seelestia]

hi!! its been a while hehe

FIRST PARAGRAPH i totally agree jsjds

i JUST took a chem test today UGH stoichiometry <<< but my fav is also bio WHAT!! i specifically love genetics, i'd like a job in it someday.

i actually just finished + posted a fic, its a childe fic where childe has to give up the reader for his family. if u find it maybe my identity will be revealed hehe

LOL i hope ur stomach is okay after all that, actually whats your fav drink? mines def water or coffee. AHHHH INFJS THE CINNAMON ROLLS!! how's life as a j? i really wanna be an intj ugh :(

ME TOO!! i mostly do it with mbti BUT WHATS UR ENNEGRAM!! and do u wanna take a shot at guessing mine? if not its okay

i wish i cld add more to this ask but something is demanding my attention very this second n i'm too lazy to rewrite this all.

BUT!! whats ur fav scent? like perfume wise?

have a nice timezone!!

-quill !

quill, hi hiiii! the way i was planning to come online when you sent the ask?? destiny. the fact that we despise chemistry??? also destiny LMAOAOOA. I SHALL PRAY FOR YOUR BRAIN 🙏 and hello??? fellow bio lovers unite! yooo, it's good to know that you'd like a job in genetics because they're super cool 😩 this makes me wanna look back at my notes abt meiosis HELP. tho, i personally love the digestive system! but i think i might just end up taking linguistics or literature courses when i go to uni soon.

(remember me when you get that huge salary, quill. so cash money of you /lh) AND OMG. i think

my fav drink is... iced chocolate. quick, act surprised LMAOAO why is this no different than choco milk 😭 but any types of iced fruit tea are super good imo! water and coffee... quill, you're so self-sufficient and easy to take care of, jfjwkkfkwm. don't be like me, be practical and save money 🚶

CINNAMON ROLLS?? US INFJS?? TY, TY! we are all silly people, i promise. like everything, being a j has its pros and cons: because we make plans and take some time to think for stability + this helps us feel secure knowing how something turns out. but at the same time, it makes us more frigid when it comes to change?? it's not like it'll kill us but most j's can get a little moody/panicky when the plans take a turn — which i do think we can afford to relax a bit more abt 😭 (i talk like a p, but i think it's just the introverted intuition (Ni) in me jfjwjkek) + it takes away our chance to experience how unpredictablity can make things more enjoyable than they seem disorganized!

YEAH! i do more with mbti and cognitive functions too but i recently researched more into enneagram. i personally recc using the sakinorva site if you haven't because they go more in depth >:)

ALSO HI YES. i'm a 9w8! your local and private cheerleader <3 and ofc, i'd want to guess, hehe. hmmm, i think... you might be a type 6?? i got this feeling because of how you said that you wish you could be a j/intj, so i can somewhat theorize that you desire security and stability (which sounds like a 6 to me but again, this is just a silly guess fjjwkdkke.

NO WORRIES! go take care of those things like a boss and a good timezone to ya too, quill <3 thanks for stopping by~ i'll keep a lookout for the childe fic you wrote because ayo, the family vs lover trope??? yes. 👀

[irl]

ALSO BTW??????

if your veterinarian ever prescribes your animal “Royal Canin” or “Dr Hills Science Diet”, they dont care about your pet they care about your money

the reason these food brands get prescribed is cos they have contracts w these vets, n the vets get a cut outta every sale they make of the food. the foods have god awful ingredients, horrible recipes, and can pretty often lead to exacerbating symptoms rather than helpin them

its basically like your neighborhood moms groups actually just bein a big mlm scam. the vets dont care about your animal if they recommend this food. they care about the money

veterinarians are NOT pet nutritionists

two cmpletely diff lines of work, with completely different schooling. yea, vets kno the basics of nutrition, sure, but they cant make educated prescribed diets. they can test for allergens, but they cant tell you how to feed your pet with “at home recipes”. they do NOT get the education needed for pet nutrition. thats why theres general doctors and nutrition specialists for humans. different scopes, same picture.

veterinarians are Notoriously Bad at keeping up to date on science

not entirely their fault, a lot of vet programs are out of date and traditionalist which can lead to a lot of problems when churning out new vets. but it molds them into the mindset of being ill equipped to accept and update their information. often it leads to them doubling down on misinformation like their life DEPENDS on it

lets take the dialetic cardiomyopathy (dcm) vs grain free foods craze that stormed th pet nutrition world bck n 2019.

there was this bologna “study” done in 2018, viewing correlation between grain free diets n heightened risk of dcm n dogs. this “study” found an irrevocable link between the two, and warned everyone to STOP feeding their dogs grain free diets, lest they die of heart failure

thing is, this “study” was entirely sponsored by big pet food brands like purina. since then, scientists and nutritionists have tried to replicate this “study” and found no clear or decisive evidence of a link between the diets and a heightened risk. in fact, it seems moreso than not that the rise of dcm in recent times is due to more genetic and environmental factors than diet. thts a whole nother can of worms tho, im not gonna dive into that cos its not the point

point is, DESPITE several new studies bein done n released, vets refuse to update their knowledge, and still peddle the fear mongering misinformation that was made to get people to stop going to indie food brands n go bck to the big box brands. to this day there are more vets than not that regurgitate the original “study” as if it were gospel n send their patients either to royal canin, hills, or purina. (or just sent their patients into a panic lol)

point is

vets r dumb n i will go to them for medical advice but if they ever suggest hills or royal, ik to jus run away

if u evr suggest 2 me 2 feed my cat royal canin or science diet, i will tke tht as a dangerous personal attack n i will treat it as such

[hollowsart]

You know I've had this question in my mind for a while

Was your spidersona bitten by a radioactive sloth? (/hj)

Lol nope, I'll share this doodle again and try to explain it a little further for any who may be new or missed it:

The Connors lab hosts many species of animals for research and study. It's a rehabilitation and conservation effort lab. (Also explains how Curt had access to axolotls for his incident) Lots of experiments, as humane as they can manage them to be, happen there. They really do care for the animals they work with and have experimented with testing genetic modifications for potential conservation efforts with certain animals. Most notable and most successful is their display of live modified spiiders.

They're very open and welcoming to visitors and helpers. Occasionally allowing free tours for anyone interested in checking out what they do and seeing the various animals they have, which includes mammals, amphibians, fish, and more. It's almost like a zoo, but not quite. They do work with the local zoos in the area tho.

[a snippet from the beginning of that thing I was writing]:

[Bitten by a genetically modified spider that had secretly hitched a ride in your cross shoulder bag during a free tour of the Connors animal research and rehabilitation center, you quickly discovered your newly granted abilities. Your life had finally changed.. albeit not how you had exactly wanted.

Your days before had been rather humdrum. Making art and spending most of your time online, avoiding much of the outside world. You hardly went out then, going only to the store for necessities and treating yourself on occasion to whatever you could afford. The free tour that changed your life had been a blessing at the time, however.. now it seemed more like a sick joke played by fate.. And your ditsy tendencies and occasionally rash behavior was not helping that fact.

You had always wanted to help others any which way you could, but there wasn't much you were actually capable of. Always feeling so helpless, so useless. This gift of super powers had granted you some ability to help.

And help you did.

You did what you could with what you were capable of. Coming up with a name for yourself and even a makeshift costume made from things in your closet. Donning a look of your favorite animal, a sloth, you had set off to try and make the world a little better in little ways.]

Essentially. Took the tour, avoiding the arachnid department like the plague, a spider had escaped and hitched a ride, wasn’t discovered until back home and removing things from the bag only to get bit. don’t know what it was, didn’t bother looking, the bag was quarantined. tend to hand, go to bed, wake up.. Odd things start happening as one would expect... Except, the reaction is more with fascination and curiosity rather than concern and fear.

Taking time to play with and test the strange effects and abilities that seemed to just sprout over night, exploring and having fun around the house with these new capabilities. especially the wall crawling. always wanted to do that! I always dreamed of how cool and fun it would be-- it’s even more fun than imagined! It just... turned out a little less as wonderful as imagined after being dumb and trying to be a superhero.

need lots of training to get better at fighting n stuff :(

but hey! stealth is great!