#rex writes

[fulcrvm]

I am thinking thoughts about airports and flying again. And Dreamling, of course.

So. Human AU. History professor Hob has to fly around a lot for work, perhaps for conferences or smth of the sort so it's always to a small handful of the same nearby cities. He's pretty neutral on the idea of flying in general, though he wishes it was a bit more environmentally friendly, but Hob is a sucker for a nice airport and especially a nice airport lounge during layovers or before boarding.

Hob has begun to frequent a small local airline (White Horse Air, the logo is a coat of arms with a little pegasus, wyvern, and hippogriff on it, haha) when traveling because he likes their service (they've never lost his bags, not even once!) and their flights are never fully booked, which makes them quieter and easier for hob's chronic pains. He always picks seats with no one next to him so he can sprawl out and so it's easier on his knees.

Until, one day, he boards the little plane and there's someone in the seat next to his. Hob's sure that when he booked his seat, the other one was empty. Oh well, whatever, Hob's not going to bother the other man already sitting there for one flight— he'll just have to be a little more mindful booking next time. Hob shuffles into the seat, and notices that the stranger sat beside him is reading Sir Thomas Malory's Le Morte d'Arthur! Hob gets excited because! That's a William Caxton publication! And Hob has so much to say about Caxton! He turns to the stranger to strike up conversation about it and... is immediately lost at how pretty the stranger is. Handsome, gorgeous, yes of course, but pretty, with the shell pink lips and focused blue eyes and slight frown at the book in his hands. Hob picks up his metaphorical jaw off the metaphorical ground and strikes up conversation with the stranger. Though the other man starts off apprehensive, somehow the two hours of flying fly by and the two of them end up talking about all sorts of art, history, and everything in between. Hob learns that the stranger works in publishing, thus his interest in Caxton.

Their flight lands, and the two of them disembark at the gate, still attempting to continue their conversation while Hob tries to wrangle his carry-on bags. (The Stranger only has a small laptop bag on one shoulder and a suit jacket folded over his other arm with him.) Then Hob has to check the time and begrudgingly says that he should probably head towards his next gate soon— this is just a layover after all. The Stranger looks ever so slightly disappointed and admits that this is his actual destination and he needs to meet his sister soon. They part ways, and Hob tries to dwell on the strange warmth in his chest. He thinks about the Stranger for his entire work trip afterwards.

This, somehow, happens a couple times. Turns out they both frequent White Horse Air, and though they're never in booked seats next to each other again, the flights are always empty enough that they can shift to sit next to each other once the plane's in the air. They chat the flight away, and then part ways once they disembark, with the Stranger headed to the baggage claim and Hob to his next flight. One time, the Stranger even requests the hostess to bring out a special bottle of Chateau Lafitte 1828 just for the two of them to share. Hob's in awe. He really enjoys their conversations, it's nice to be able to talk about his interests in a non-academia environment. The Stranger always has the most intriguing and eye-opening perspectives on everything, too. It doesn't really help that Hob thinks... maybe he's developing a tiny, teeny, really inconsequential really crush on his Stranger. He's not in grade school anymore, how does he feel like this about someone he doesn't even know the name of yet!

This all comes to a head when Hob mentions to the Stranger that his layover is a bit longer than it usually is, and if the Stranger is in no rush, they can continue their conversation in one of the airport's lounges. White Horse Air is a bit too small an airline to have their own lounge, but Hob's collected enough miles to get into one of the other airline lounges and is fully willing to pay to get in one if it means more time with his Stranger.

The Stranger is extremely enthusiastic about the idea— which shows up physically as a subtle, coy upturning at the corner of his mouth and a little sparkle in his eye. (Hob feels proud that he can read this reaction so well.) He's so enthusiastic, in fact, that the Stranger offers to get them both into a first-class lounge. Hob doesn't even pretend to hesitate to say yes.

Let's just say they get to the lounge, split some cheese and wine, and the proceed to get even more enthusiastic with each other in a private room. Hob's lucky he brought a change of clothes in his carry-on. (Maybe Hob's not so lucky and can't sit comfortably during his next three-hour flight.)

Hob gets a bit emotional when he has to leave for his next flight (already missing being able to hold his Stranger's face so gently, being able to card his fingers through his soft, smokey hair) and gets his guts together to ask if the Stranger wants to exchange phone numbers or something, so they can be in contact more regularly. Perhaps even, meet on purpose maybe? The Stranger smiles and kisses him lightly on the cheek when he slips a business card into Hob's hand.

Hob's so caught up in it all that he doesn't check the business card until he's fully boarded and sat on his next flight. And he gawks.

Morpheus Aion The Dreaming Publishing House

As in, one of White Horse Air's biggest shareholders? Aion, as in, probably the sibling of Teleute Aion? As in, Teleute Aion, the CEO of White Horse Air?! Hob almost passes out.

In the end, Morpheus and Hob laugh it out. Morpheus promises he never abused his sibling privileges to invade Hob's privacy, but used the sibling perks to frequent White Horse Air flights a little more than he even needed to just for the chance to see Hob again. They're both happy to not need to keep flying just for that chance anymore, haha. Idiots in love! Turns out, while Teleute lives where Hob keeps having his layovers, Morpheus and Hob actually live just a few hours driving from each other from their shared initial departure location. It all works out perfectly, and Morpheus self-restraint from inviting Hob to move in (so they don't have to keep travelling to see each other, no matter how small) lasts not even a year after they officially start dating. Hob doesn't even pretend to hesitate to say yes :)

(Years down the line, much after they're married, Hob finally has enough miles to get them back into those first-class lounges to have more fun. It's all very lovely.)

[the-clone-captain]

I think -personally- that Obi Wan and Cody need to realize they aren't sneaky. I JUST walked in on them cuddling and Cody had the AUDACITY to claim they were "Cold" in the dead heat of summer on the hottest planet in this side of the Star system. Sure your cold. Cold dead liars.

[witcher-and-his-bard]

Love Letters

Pairing: Geralt x Jaskier Warning(s): none Rating: general

Fic Summary: Jaskier writes down all his feelings in a letter he never expects Geralt to see - only for Geralt to arrive shortly after, snowed out of Kaer Morhen.

For @jackironsides 💜

My beloved Geralt

Dear Geralt

Geralt, my love

No matter what he writes, it sounds wrong. Too intimate, too casual, too... much in one way or another. Jaskier hasn't even gotten past the introduction and he already wants to give up on the letter. It feels so easy over the summer, when he and Geralt spend long, muggy days walking side-by-side. Jaskier sings and Geralt rides, and occasionally, Geralt will even sing along with whatever he's playing.

Now, in the dark of his room at the academy, those feelings feel dull and distant. Not Jaskier's feelings, of course, but the potential reciprocation. These days, he finds himself thinking about Geralt's relationships with Eskel or Lambert, or even Vesemir. He wonders how different those relationships are to the one he shares with Geralt. Maybe those gentle things Geralt says to him in the comfort of their shared inn rooms are just things Geralt would say to anyone.

Ugh. Jaskier flops backward in his chair, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands. He wishes there was an easy way to know these things, and for the first time in a long time he finds himself envying Yennefer. She could just read Geralt's mind, she could just know. And Geralt? He can smell emotions or something like that; at least, he always seems to know when Jaskier is upset about something. Maybe he took the wrong path in life. Maybe he should have tried to get into Ban Ard and become a mage. Surely there is some chaos in him, enough, at least, to be able to read minds.

Briefly, Jaskier considers contacting Yen. They've had a better relationship as of late, and she might be able to give him some insight, if nothing else. But he doesn't want to drag her into something that isn't really any of her business. Not because he's afraid to tell her, but because she might not want to know. She's happy now - travelling with Triss and Istredd last he heard - but there might be some leftover feelings there and he doesn't want to bring up Geralt in a romantic setting if he doesn't need to. Plus, he doesn't want to feel like more of a burden than he already does.

Jaskier looks down at the half-started letter in front of him and angrily crumples it up before blowing out the candle and shoving his chair back. He flops forward onto folded arms, looking out into the blue of the night sky, speckled with snow. Normally, he would take comfort in a view like this, but tonight, it just reminds him of how far away Geralt is.

Is it even worth beginning a relationship when they spend so much time apart? Would Geralt even be interested? Even if he was madly in love with Jaskier, would that be enough? What's the point when you have no one to cuddle with and watch the snowfall? But then maybe Geralt would want to visit some winters if they were more.

Gods, he wants that more than he can even properly comprehend. The idea of falling asleep in Geralt's arms feels like the height of romance. Already, Jaskier treasures the moments he falls asleep listening to Geralt's voice, even if he does feel a bit bad about it in the morning. Despite himself, a dopey smile spreads across his face at the thought. He misses Geralt more than he can say while they're apart in the winter. It's only a little into the season and already the long, dark winter feels endless.

Jaskier inhales deeply, sighs, and sits up to write. He's determined to finish this letter, even if it never reaches its intended audience.

Geralt,

I know it's barely been a month since we parted, but I find myself longing again for your company. Teaching is hectic as always, and my students love a tale of your heroism. I know you don't consider yourself a hero, but I do. Though lately, I find myself recalling different moments from our travels. I find myself thinking of the evenings after a contract has been completed and paid. I think back to the ale or tea and the stars hanging low in the sky. The way the firelight flickers on your face. I miss that. I miss the way your hair falls in your face when you take it down to sleep. I miss how stubborn you are about that awful headband. And I regret to tell you now that I've grown... rather fond of it, actually.

Rather rarely do I find myself at a loss for words, but they escape me when I try to nail down all the things I feel for you. I know I am a mere mortal, doomed to die years or even decades before you, but given the chance, I would happily live out the rest of my life at your side. Perhaps even in your arms.

I know love is not a word you use often, but the way I feel it could very well become something so all-encompassing. I can't promise that love is how I feel now. I find myself mixed up in a way I've never felt before. That's not to say that I don't love you, because I do. As a friend, as a companion, as something more. Perhaps one day, even as a lover. Even if you don't feel the same, I want you to know that you are deeply cared for in every way one person can care for another. I don't mind if you don't want to see me again, so long as it is your wish, and one borne out of intention rather than fear. Because although I've never spoken the words, I've longed for you for days and weeks and months and years, silently staying by your side. Perhaps one day you will have me there on purpose - despite, or maybe even because of, my feelings for you.

Until then, I remain yours, as always.

Jaskier.

Jaskier looks over the letter once more and, feeling an uncomfortable swell of emotion, folds it neatly and tucks it into an envelope that just reads Geralt. He's only just finished hiding the evidence when there's a knock at his door.

"Yes?" he asks.

"Sorry to interrupt so late," the voice on the other side of the door says. Jassa, Jaskier thinks, his assistant at the university. "You have a guest."

"A guest?" Jaskier asks, perplexed. Who on earth would brave this weather just to visit? The only guests he normally has are students or his fellow professors, either of whom would just come to his room and knock themselves.

"He says he's a friend. Geralt? I think," Jassa says.

Jaskier's heart somersaults.

"Right," he says, "of course. Send him up. I'll leave the door open."

"Certainly," Jassa smiles. "I'll send him right up. Have a good night, Professor."

"And you," Jaskier finishes, barely aware of what he's saying.

What is Geralt doing here? Of all the years they've known each other, he's never once come to visit over the winter, so why now? Jaskier turns around, leaning on the door, and is struck by the state of his room. For the last two days, he's done nothing but lie around and sulk, and it shows. He absolutely cannot let Geralt see his room like this.

Given he has roughly four minutes, maybe a few more if Geralt stops to talk to Jassa before coming up, it's not going to be easy. So Jaskier starts with the worst of it: the clothes and things laying all over the bed and floor. There is a surprising amount of mess considering Jaskier is the only one residing in the room, but he manages to get the worst of it tidied before the knock at the door. A final glance tells him only the desk and table are still cluttered, but that much is acceptable so he crosses to the door.

As he pulls it open, Jaskier is struck by Geralt's smile. He always is when they haven't seen each other for some time, but this feels more. Maybe it's because he's been considering his own feelings lately, but looking at Geralt, here and in person, makes his legs weak.

"Hi," he says shakily.

Geralt gives him an odd look, but it quickly turns into a half-smile and he steps into the room when Jaskier moves aside.

"I hope I'm not intruding," he says gently, "it's no trouble to find a room at the inn if-"

"Not at all," Jaskier interrupts. "I'd be happy to host you if you're staying.”

"I had hoped to," Geralt says.

"What brings you?" Jaskier asks.

"The route to Kaer Morhen was snowed over by the time we arrived in Kaedwen," he explains, "I thought this might be the best place to stay."

Part of Jaskier is delighted at the thought, though when he considers it further, Oxenfurt is further than any of the other places Geralt would be more than welcome to stay over the winter. There's no good reason for him to have travelled all the way to the coast, when surely Yen would have taken him in without question. Their relationship may not be romantic anymore, but Jaskier knows there is still a deep love between them. And he's happy for it, which makes it all the more confusing why Geralt is here. He thinks to ask, but reconsiders.

"Please," he says, remembering his manners, "make yourself at home. I can have a bath poured if you're tired? Was Roach properly cared for? Shall I call for supper-"

"Jaskier," Geralt says gently, "Roach is fine. A small meal would be nice, but there's no rush. Right now I'd just like to relax."

Of course, Jaskier thinks. He must have been travelling for weeks if he first attempted the path and then had to turn back. Jaskier had left him just north of the Pontar, between the mountain ranges, so that must have been-

"Jaskier?" Geralt asks, cutting off his train of thought. "Is everything alright?"

"Fine," Jaskier assures him. "Just wasn't expecting company and I'm not prepared for it- Not that you're not welcome!" he corrects quickly, and with a little too much vigour.

"Perhaps you're the one who needs a rest," Geralt says, half-teasingly.

"Just to get my head on straight," Jaskier assures him. "Why don't you make yourself comfortable and I'll go fetch something warm for you to eat."

Jaskier slips from the room, only stopping one he's far enough away that Geralt won't hear him. He stops and sighs, pressing a hand to his chest as if to stop the mad beating of his heart. Surely Geralt has heard it already and he’s given himself away, but he was hardly expecting to be visited like this out of the blue.

He takes another few calming breaths before continuing on down to the kitchen. He's close with the chef - with most of the staff if he's honest - and has more than once helped him out of a sticky situation with less-than-edible herbs, so his request for a private supper is granted with a smile. In the meantime, Jaskier makes his way back up to the room, holding his breath for a moment before opening the door.

Geralt is standing over the desk in the small room, mumbling quietly. As Jaskier approaches, slipping up behind him, he realizes Geralt is reading the poetry he'd been working on. Jaskier has never been so relieved to know how little Geralt thinks about his poems, as these ones are nearly explicitly about him, the only relief being that his name is not used. Wolf, he uses once or twice, but it's a metaphor and Geralt always says he doesn't care for flowery things like metaphors.

"This is... lovely," Geralt says, though he sounds a bit off as he does.

"Thank you," Jaskier says quietly, slipping around to Geralt's side to see which one he's reading.

"You- your narrator sounds sad."

"Ah, yes. Been a bit of a downer lately, I suppose."

Jaskier tries to laugh it off but Geralt turns to look at him, something like concern in his expression.

"What's wrong?"

"Oh nothing's wrong," Jaskier assures. "I've just not been feeling myself."

"Can I help?"

Jaskier is taken aback by the blunt suggestion and his head jerks up to meet Geralt's eyes.

"I'm not sure you could, love," he says gently.

"If someone has hurt you-"

"No," Jaskier says quickly.

"You reek of heartache," Geralt says bluntly.

"Right. Well." He considers for a moment before deciding against lying to Geralt. "Unrequited love, I'm afraid."

"How do you know it is?"

"Unrequited?" Jaskier laughs, "oh, my darling, he'd have to be the stupidest man alive not to know. Or perhaps the most oblivious. I'm sure he would have said something if he felt the same."

"You haven't," Geralt counters.

"Right, well- He wouldn't want someone like me, surely."

"Perhaps he feels you think the same of him."

Jaskier had considered that option, but it seems unlikely.

"Either way, it's best just to tell him. I'm sure he'll be flattered if nothing else."

The mere suggestion of it makes Jaskiers stomach turn and he nods slowly. Thankfully, at that moment, supper is delivered to their room and he is spared the thought of confessing his feelings - out loud - to Geralt.

His relief is short-lived as supper is finished shortly, but he makes an excuse about taking the dishes away and dashes out the door with them. Jaskier wants to cry. He can't believe he's gotten himself into a mess like this and he can only hope Geralt doesn't continue to bring it up.

He's so distracted thinking about it that it seems like seconds before he's standing back in front of his door. He hesitates before opening the door, keeping his eyes closed until the last possible moment.

When he opens his eyes, Jaskier's heart jumps into his throat. As Geralt turned to see him, a piece of paper had fallen from his hands and Jaskier can't take his eyes off it. He'd been so preoccupied worrying about the mess when Geralt showed up that he'd forgotten to hide the letter. And it was addressed to Geralt, he had every right to read it, but-

"Jaskier?"

Jaskier scrambles across the floor, reaching for the letter, but Geralt catches his wrist, holding him still.

"Is this just another one of your poems?" he asks quietly.

Jaskier shakes his head. There's no use denying it.

"It's… me. I'm the one you were talking about earlier."

Jaskier half wishes he could fall through the floor and never have to finish this conversation. Sadly, despite how hard he wishes, the floor refuses to open up beneath him. He nods.

"I want to hear you say it."

Jaskier's tongue feels heavy in his mouth but he manages, "I don't know what to say. I don't want to make any big confessions I can't live up to."

"Then how about this?" Geralt says.

He leans in, taking Jaskier's face in his hand, and softly presses their lips together. For a moment, Jaskier forgets to breathe and has trouble believing this is real at all. But when Geralt pulls back again, he's smiling, his cheeks a faint shade of pink. Jaskier's first thought is that it's quite a pretty colour on him before he presses forward and kisses him again.

"Yeah," he breathes, barely pulling away to speak, "I think that's a good start."

[rexstorm]

Behold my sweet boys. My Ryder twins as teenagers and Kyle Shepard as a kid causing some trouble.

[rexcaliburechoes]

Chapters: 1/1 Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Category: Gen Fandoms: Fire Emblem SeriesFire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates Relationship: Aqua | Azura & Asyura | Shura Characters: Asyura | Shura, Aqua | Azura Additional Tags: Corrin is mentioned like once, Forgiveness, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Missing Scene, Character Study, Inspired by a Hozier Song, Nonbinary My Unit | Kamui | Corrin, Self-Esteem Issues, because shura has a suprisingly large amount of those, No beta we die like Scarlet

Summary: Shura joins Corrin's army after learning that the Mokushujin daimyo has been killed during the war and remeets Azura in the army. He certainly has opinions about it.

[direbeastrex]

Tumblr I had an extremely vivid dream which was basically an act 2 finale/act 3 post intermission scene of a fucked up fae court broadway drama and if i don't tell someone about it I'll forget it and I cannot. allow that. to happen. I'm gonna describe it in as much detail as I can but then I'm going to write the rest as prose because this is my new headworld now apparently and I am OBSESSED WITH IT and no one is gonna write fanfiction for me to read about it so I just have to push up my flannel sleeves and do it myself.

In the dream itself, I was either waiting in the wings to go on stage, or I was a stage hand, but given the rest of the sequence played in-universe I'm going to assume it was the former. I got to see the actress for the main villain of the show, this kinda cross between Elphaba from Wicked, Elsa from Frozen, and Vyranoth and the Winter Queen from World of Warcraft, as she put on this giant plastic icey helm dotted with LEDS, that I originally thought had animations projected onto it like modern disney rides, but when I woke up realized it was more likely to just be a weird screen in and of itself playing her fae-like facial expressions as she sang to make it look like her whole head was made of ice. She was impossibly tall, and wearing a massive flowing black gown and billowing cloak- partly she was just a tall actress, partly though the head wasn't actually over her head, it was on a rig over her shoulders to give her more height- and because the plan was for her head to *come off* at some point during the show when she got beheaded, I think. That didn't happen in the scope of the dream but i knew that was how it was supposed to work. The way she got felled on stage though was through an elaborate system of ropes and flying rigs that as she was mid-leap towards an opponent in the big battle happening on stage, a *massive* amount of these long metal javelin-like spears were lobbed at her and appeared to pierce her back and sides until she looked like a massive porcupine. She hits the deck in agony in the midst of a massive musical crescendo and the curtain falls for intermission, which my brain skipped, but after that the intro-conceit of this taking place on stage was also dropped, so there went all the multi-coloured light films and the staging and music for the most part. The part that stuck with me is the aftermath- the act-3 scene-1 type beat, though it was almost entirely in-universe from this point on. There were other characters and initially the staging was vaguely simpatico with the idea of a stage show- but all that slowly faded away into my perspective character and this enormous figure of this ice queen.

[the-clone-captain]

Can confirm this has happened more times than I'd like to admit

*when Cody comes to visit*

Fives: Do you want to see a butterfly? Cody: Uh, yes? Rex: NO! Fives: *throws the butter across the table* Echo: Fucking majestic

[dragon-ascent]

Headcanon that Morax can flirt like CRAZY...except he's not really aware that he's flirting; he's just being sincere.

You see him seated, practicing various styles of traditional calligraphy with dexterous strokes of his brush. When you move closer you realise, as your heart skips several beats, that he's been writing your name - over and over in countless elegant styles.

When you bashfully ask him about it, he responds - with a deadpan expression, "It is a name most beautiful; one that flows from my ink as easily as water in a river."

You subsequently roll around on the floor, not knowing how else to channel your poor flabbergasted heart, as your divine lover calmly continues his calligraphic endeavors.

He'd be creating Mora from his body while you're lounging around on the bed. The deity would sigh, "Ah, all the gold I make cannot compare to this leisurely sight of you at peace."

You stare at him agog as he blinks back at you earnestly. His golden gaze is more intense than the sheen of the Mora, yet his expression is mundane. It takes everything in you not to chew up the pillows.

One day, he's telling you all about his visit to Fontaine, where he sampled some exquisite tasses ragout. He explains how the warm flavors masterfully mingled on his tongue and left him wanting more.

So you ask him, "Is it the most delicious thing you have ever tasted?"

Your god doesn't even hesitate before his answer. "Hm, not at all."

"Then what is?" You expect him to name a traditional Liyuen dish like Adeptus' Temptation, or Jueyun chilli chicken, or...

Morax maintains his beautiful poker face. "I would have to say...you have the most enjoyable taste."

You promptly head to the top of Mt. Tianheng and scream your lungs out.

[wantonlywindswept]

another trope inversion of GAR/Guard interactions:

the GAR is entirely aware that Coruscant is a shit posting.

they're not blind; they can see all the anti-clone sentiment when they're on leave. even when they're deployed, it's not like they're cut off from all news - they know how many times bills for clone rights have gone to the Senate floor and been ruthlessly voted down. they can see how even their Jedi are restrained by the Senate dragging its feet and making bad choices and handling the war like it's a game of dejarik since it will never affect them personally.

very few politicians have the respect of the clones.

but the Guard still have to work with the spoiled, self-centered bastards, and the GAR knows that they're not being treated well. but what can they do? they have no rights, the Jedi are as trapped under the Senate's thumb as they are, and it's not like they can get regular citizens to do anything.

so they offer their support as much as they can. any Guard, any Corrie who needs help, all they have to do is find one of their brothers and it will be offered without any questions.

you'd think that crime rate would go up when battle-traumatized soldiers are given leave on a city-planet like Coruscant, but it actually goes down.

way down.

the thing criminals come to realize is that if you are being chased by one of the Guard, if ANY other clone catches sight of you, it is ON SIGHT. clones in casual clothes carrying food and drinks have dropped everything to immediately join a Guard's hunt, throwing themselves into the pursuit with glee and an energy that the usually-exhausted Guards often lack. (some of them howl. those, the criminal underground agrees, are the worst.) 

and with hundreds or thousands of clones wandering around during battalions' leave, it's possible to run into one of them anywhere. and they usually travel in packs.

best just to lay low for a while.

when it leaks that the Guard regularly run low on supplies, all sorts of things start to go missing on the venators. just a box or a crate here or there, ration packs or bacta patches or cold-weather gear. there are millions of clones and thousands of ships; it's not like every little thing can be tracked by the quartermasters. 

(rex realizes that, for whatever reason, his battalion is always prioritized for resupply, and rarely any questions are asked about their requisitions. rex takes immediate and shameless advantage of this. rex manages, somehow, to lose two entire bacta tanks, along with the bacta to fill them.)

and ofc the idea that started this whole ramble - when a shiny Corrie stumbles somewhere where some of the 501st are shooting the shit, causing everything to immediately come to a halt. the kid is clutching his helmet and one of his pauldrons to his chest; his hair is mussed up and there are tears on his cheeks and bruises on his face and unadulterated panic in his eyes. 

there's an angry call in the corridor.

the shiny flinches.

fives grabs him, hears him squeak, snaps out orders. echo yanks off his bucket and his upper armor; jesse lunges for a blanket. they hustle the kid into a chair, drape the blanket over his lower body, hastily swap his upper armor and helmet for echo's. fives shoves the armor somewhere, doesn't matter, it's out of sight with the telltale red, and they all barely have enough time to drop themselves back into the chairs arranged around the table and pick up their cards before some natborn stomps into the room.

anything we can do for you, sir? sorry, no, the Guard didn't stop in here. we saw him head back down toward the rotunda, though. yes, sir. have a nice day, sir.

they close and lock the door. fives goes back to the shiny. fives was instantly prepared to help a fellow clone in need.

fives was not prepared for tears.

the kid gets snot all over the inside of echo's helmet. they take him back to Guard HQ. fox is painfully, desperately relieved to see him. fox looks too-thin and too-tired but there is a fresh GAR-issued bacta patch covering a slash across the side of his cheek. he thanks them for saving the shiny, like that's something that ever needs gratitude, but is swept away before any of them can say that. 

fives doesn't think that misplaced bacta and pilfered rations are enough support for the Guard anymore.

thankfully, rex and the rest of the GAR agree.

[fulcrvm]

I'd really really love a Retired!Dreamling fic where Dream doesn't immediately become immortal upon becoming human.

I want to see what would happen when Dream and Hob both suddenly realise that Dream can still get hurt in some way, and I want it to take a long time for Hob to convince (beg?) for Dream to actively decide to 'not die'. I think it would be a very painful thing for Hob (who is inherently selfish and greedy, and needs to realise that he can't just ask Dream to be immortal simply because Hob wants him to be) to now justify why he think Death is stupid to a Dream who now can't contact any Endless, and isn't protected by the universe or whatever. I think it'd be very difficult and chracter-revealing considering their last conversation during The Kindly Ones, and I want their love and domesticity to feel earned in the retired setting. And I really want to see Dream have a reason to live fully, without fear, and actively decide to become immortal with his hand in Hob's, no matter how long it takes.

[the-clone-captain]

I can imagine the same thing with Echo and Fives honestly.

I saw a post talk about how Crosshair and Tech are kinda just like, the twins of the Bad Batch. So all I could imagine from that point forward was Tech sitting up straight in bed during Season 1 and 2 late at night and Hunter asks him "what? what is it?" and Tech goes "Crosshair has just made a horrible life choice". He can sense it.

[the-clone-captain]

PSA TO ALL CLONE TROOPERS!!!

You MAY NOT wear platform thigh high boots on the battlefield it is NOT GAR regulation! Please wear your GAR regulation Combat Shoes. Under NO circumstances should you be wearing those death traps to the field, please instead wear your walking death wish shoes to the 79s on your days OFF DUTY

Thank you-

Captain Rex aka CT-7567

[witcher-and-his-bard]

Last Line Challenge!

ty @petrifiedforests for the tag! it's taken me ages to get to this, but I've been mostly outlining for 100 years, and I finally have something to share 💜

couple bonus lines for context

He just likes the idea of maybe seeing Cas and how he's doing now. Nothing more. And yet, as he's climbing the front stairs to his house, he's already trying to figure out what kind of clothes to pack for a cruise.

first time I've written Destiel in years and I am fully enjoying myself.

tagging: @jackironsides @rebrandedbard @curls-cat

[rexstorm]

Here's the newest fic I'm working on.

[rexcaliburechoes]

i don’t think diamant and alfred’s a-support is particularly out of character // literally no one asked

pardon for the typos and occasional salty tone; i really don’t have the energy to sift through every single line diamant says at 330 am, but i needed to get this out of my head because people in general seem to misunderstand why diamant says what he does and what his genuine intent is/could be and i think it deserves some expansion upon. thoughts under the cut:

i actually wanna start in their b-support because i think that adds some important context.

diamant: It's funny... I never thought I'd end up crossing swords with a rival prince outside of a battlefield. [...] It's nice to think that the two of us will come out of this war as friends. alfred: Hate to break it to you, but I'm not so sure that's possible. Things won't always be like this. diamant: They won't? alfred: Afraid not. By the time the war's over...we'll be even better buddies! diamant: Haha! I like the way you think, Prince Alfred.

i think it’s very important to note alfred’s response here. i don’t think he’s a stupid as fans tend to think he is. sure, he can be an airhead, and is definitely a muscle-focused brute, but he’s just as much the crown prince as diamant is. i see a lot of people, in general, downplaying how he actually behaves in game for the “cute uwu sunshine flower boi“ trope (this is a post for another time). “i’m not so sure [we’ll still be friends post-war] is possible“ is such a grounded in reality line. alfred is thinking forward to the future- a future where brodia and firene don’t consider each other allies. it’s possible he was alluding to his illness, as well, saying that “i will die before we truly consider each other best friends“ (this is another post for another time).

of course, he can see diamant’s concern, and recovers rather quickly.

to that end: we know that diamant is much more fragile than he really lets on. it’s emphasised throughout the game. there are so many examples of this textually- explicitly, even!- that are very obvious in his character traits.

diamant, to leif in their a-rank bond: The truth is, I’m not as confident as I may seem. I’ve never told anyone that─not even Alcryst. 

diamant, to ike in their a-rank bond: Improving my kingdom, surpassing my father as king… I’m not sure I can actually do all of that. 

diamant and lucina’s a-rank bond conversation quite literally outlines the anxiety he has in regard to his kingdom’s welfare:

diamant: If Brodia’s remaining forces fall, the kingdom could be destroyed. I can’t bear that thought. lucina: I know how hard it is to leave soldiers behind. For their sake, we must claim a swift victory. Brodia will not fall into ruin, Diamant. Never will you suffer the same anguish that I did. diamant: Thank you, Lucina. That’s reassuring. You may never claim a throne…but you are a great leader.

and that’s not even every single instance in his bond conversations with the emblems, or in his supports.

and... wait... doesn’t that remind you of something?

alcryst, in his c-support with diamant: I can't offer an even match—my skills pale in comparison to yours—but I'll learn what I can. How am I supposed to win against the prince of Brodia? Yes, I am a Brodian prince, but I'm not THE Brodian prince. I'm not you, Diamant.

gee, it’s almost as though the anxiety runs in the family.

but what does this have to do with his a-support with alfred?

well, if there’s one thing that seems to set his anxiety off (aside from his perceived perfection, which is a topic i’ve already covered enough as it is already), it’s the potential of war between the different countries of elyos, and how that directly conflicts with his moral statement on how war is bad and only profits those in power. he can’t help but harp on about it every chance he gets:

framme: Prince Diamant… You said you wanted to bring peace to the world, but… Is that really true? Then why does Brodia keep attacking Elusia? I read the histories of both kingdoms. There are helpless citizens in Elusia that fear Brodia. When you talk about ending war, do you really mean conquering Elusia? Is that peace? diamant: Brodia…is a kingdom of warriors. It does have a regrettable history of seizing territory by force. And it is true that some people in Elusia have been hurt by─and have grown to hate─Brodia. That’s an undeniable part of my kingdom’s past, but I won’t let it be part of our future. It may not be easy, but I mean what I say. There will be change.

timerra: Hey, between you and me…do you think peace is really possible? diamant: Ah. That’s a big question…and one I often worry about myself. Ultimately, as leaders, I think it’s our duty to believe that peace is possible. If we won’t fight to secure that kind of future for our people, who will? 

diamant: Brodia has a lot to answer for. Offering a token like that gem is the least I can do. ivy: It's true. Brodia has invaded our lands many times. I often wonder how my people would have fared without that suffering and bloodshed. diamant: My father was focused on our kingdom's affairs when he began expanding our territory by force. That singular focus is how things have always been done in Brodia...but that needs to change. My father is no longer here, but his influence remains. Change will take time. If there's an easier way, I haven't found it yet.

and so on.

okay, so why does he worry about breaking the non-aggression pact in the first place if he’s so adamant about keeping peace between the countries of elyos?? his support reads:

diamant: As you know, the kingdom of Brodia prioritizes military might above all else. Our kingdom is home to many ambitious people. That might explain those priorities. Our culture also teaches that it's honorable to gain things by force. Thanks to Queen Ève, our two kingdoms have signed a nonaggression pact. However... alfred: You're saying you can't promise it'll last. diamant: That’s right. alfred: What do you think will happen? diamant: I have my own hopes, but I won't just force them upon my kingdom. The will of my people must come first. I have to fight for whatever future serves them best. 

so what’s the big deal? he practically says “hey, uh, yeah, about that non-aggression pact... sorry, but we can’t promise we won’t try to attack you in the future“

but i ask for you, dear reader, who’s gotten this far, to turn your attention to his and citrinne’s support chain.

citrinne: [the nobles are] eager for a response. I've been sent here to ask you directly about your stance on future military campaigns. These nobles are acquaintances of my family. As a noble myself, I can't ignore their demands. diamant: ... [diamant’s textbox pauses here before continuing to the following text] War is profitable. The nobility is expecting to line their pockets for years to come. I, on the other hand, do not intend to wage any wars during my reign as king. citrinne: I'm so glad to hear that. The nobles won't like it, but you can leave them to me.

this ends up getting diamant (and citrinne) into hot water in their b-support:

citrinne: The nobles did not care for your response. I must be cautious in my exchanges with you. Rumors are quickly spreading that my family has been colluding with Brodia’s future king. 

naturally, this gets all nice and wrapped up in a cute little bow in their a-support:

diamant: Don’t panic. I didn’t mention you at all. I made it clear that I won’t wage any wars, but will prioritize a prosperous future for Brodia. That should put a stop to the rumors, right? No more whispers of collusion.

now, i know the focus here is on the accusation of collusion citrinne has levied at her, but i think it’s important to note that the nobles did not care for diamant’s response. furthermore, his end note explicitly discusses how the nobles dis not like diamant’s plan for brodia for the future:

As the new king of Brodia, Diamant ordered a halt to all invasions and worked to reform his people's attitudes on Elusia. Some nobles resisted Diamant at first, but his vision for the future earned their favor. By exporting ore, Brodia was able to shift to a booming, trade-based economy.

let me emphasise this: the nobility does NOT like diamant. at the very least, not at first. he even says how he regrets having to lean on the nobility for financial support... but unfortunately, he will have to burn that bridge when he gets there in terms of dealing with having this held over his own head as brodia’s crown prince.

diamant, to alfred in their c-support: I was drafting requests for funding to send to Brodia's nobles. Our military needs support. Any loans will be used as political leverage in the future. I'm worried...but out of options. 

through this series of textual evidence, we are presented with two facts:

diamant is just as anxious as alcryst about his rule as king and how he envisions fostering peace as his father’s son (he’s just much more apt at hiding it than alcryst).

the nobility does not like him, in spite of his status as crown prince.

so, inevitably, when alfred steps wrong as says “yeah... we’re not gonna be best friends forever“, diamant is very prone to going into overdrive and overthinking this singular sentence... which snowballs into “i don’t think brodia will honour the non-aggression pact“.

diamant’s thoughts and worries about if he will actually be able to lead brodia into a peaceful future- profitable for his country, without relying upon being aggressive in war- quickly spiral out of control because, even if he knows logically it is not true, it doesn’t mean that he recognises it emotionally. alfred tries to reassure him, and it works, actually! it works by breaking him out of that spiral and reminds him that “not everyone wants war, and there will be plenty of opportunities to be loved by your people in peace times, too.“

alfred: I understand. I'm in the same tight spot. That said, everything'll be fine. You've got nothing to worry about. diamant: How can you be sure? alfred: Well, I mean... Everyone from Brodia seems so nice. I can't speak for the whole kingdom, but all the Brodians I've met were nice enough. I don't think they'd want a war over nothing. I think things are gonna work out. I trust the good folks of Brodia that way. diamant: You trust in the goodwill of others? Even the citizens of neighboring kingdoms? alfred: People are people, no matter where they're from. Is trusting in them so bad? diamant: Haha. No, it's not bad at all. In fact, trust might be the most important quality for a leader to have.

"people" can mean "the common people", but given how diamant struggles with the noble court... he likely means the nobles that want to use his need for funding as leverage against him, who want to pit him and citrinne against each others, who don't share his profitable future without war.

alfred can recognise that diamant is having a tough time worrying over his status as prince- about if he'll be liked, if he will rule well, if anything fleeting will ever last- because he understands him as a crown prince to another crown prince. they may not have the same exact struggle, but alfred intimately knows the impermanence of promises, legally binding or otherwise (this is a post for another time).

this is not out of character in the slightest, for either of them. this is a layered interaction exploring the exact minutiae of how both of them perceive the world: one through fleeting impermanence and acceptance, and the other through anxiety and sheer stubbornness,

[the-clone-captain]

This has happened so many times

Rex: What are you two up to? Fives: Why would we be up to anything? Echo: We are good innocent brothers Rex: I've never trusted you less in my life Fives: Completely valid