#why clones when we could use bones?

[evilminji]

You know, i just had the mental image of a sith in star wars finding a ritual or something to summon a ghost and end up summoning danny, while in space. The sith is struggling to try and convince this otherworldly being to help them do evil and their just staring out the nearest viewport in awe about the amount of new space things to discover.

How does it feel? To have such a big and wrinkly brain? So full of smartness?? :O

That? Is Brilliant~☆

It could be a Krell situation. Stress of the war got to be too much. Or a Dooku situation, discontent fed and fed until it burst. Like a silently festering wound, left unseen and untreated.

Regardless of HOW it happened?

The lil shit steals from Madame Nu. Like a CRAZY PERSON.

Rightfully terrified that she will Kick Their Ass into the stratosphere for touching HER archives, they head straight for the "Sith Stuff". What does it DO? What RESEARCH did they do? HA! You ask too much of them! There is no PLAN here!

Their brain has gone to SOUP with the Dark Side. It's all wild mood swings and impulse decisions! Research and careful precautions takes PATIENCE. Planning. The calm and rationality they just THREW OUT AN AIR LOCK.

They are high on the initial high of the Dark Side that few, if any, Dark Siders ever SURVIVE. That TEST of their character and control, as they stand in the storm they have unleashed upon themselves.

You want POWER?

Okay.

HAVE IT.

Like trying to swallow a waterfall. Drink the ocean, one cup at a time. Endless, yes, but equally so? It is BRINE. Not the life giving waters of the Light. The more you drink... the deeper your thirst. The faster you die. Can you control yourself? Suffer it? For that's all that's left... suffering. Thirst. Endless, Endless Thirst.

Water water everywhere, and it shall grind your bones to DUST when next you drink.

Welcome to the Dark Side! Was it WORTH it?

But, ah, our Fallen's brain is muddled soup. They think so. They are not themselves. May never be again. That's why it's a tragedy. Because it both IS and ISN'T their hands that takes that Sith artifact. Because who they WERE would be appalled.

They don't even know what they are grabbing, do they? No one does. Seized from the ruins of a laboratory. Long dead horrors, painted upon the walls. A Sith's obsession with the afterlife of his people. Ghosts. Beings that were, supposedly, DIFFERENT then Force Ghosts.

The notes speak of "green". A vision or experience in his youth. Brief. The world tearing open. A gate to somewhere "green". The Sith believed it was the afterlife. Felt death inside the gate. Described as "peaceful, joyful, driven, and eternal", he was ultimately unable to full articulate the full scope of what he believed he saw.

Now his last device is in the hands of a fallen jedi.

Who is going to USE it.

P A N I C

Obviously, the Temple gaurds chase the crazy mofo as hard as they can. Without a DOUBT, every master on hand and available, is roped in by Madame Nu to FOLLOW that psychopath, before he unleashs FORCE KNOWS WHAT, directly over CORUSCANT AIRSPACE!!! The SENATE. THE TEMPLE?! HUNDREDS OF MILLIONS OF LIVES!?

Fallen McFuckface? Clearly did not think this through (nooooo, REALLY? Everyone is SHOCKED! Shocked, they tell you!), panics. Which is, unfortunately, the LAST thing they wanted them to do. FUCK™.

Masters and Knights are LITERALLY cutting through the hull, kicking down the door, they can survive limited Space exposure and honestly? We're not THAT high yet! Let's see you jump to hyperspace with HOLES in your ship! (Fucking, DONT GIVE THEM IDEAS! They're insane, remember?!) (Shit. You're right.)

When?

.......Green...~¤~

Hilariously? The Sith can plan all they want. But you can NEVER plan for stupid. Make a plan idiot proof, as they say, and the Universe will just build a better idiot. All that carefully curated misery, hatred, and suffering? That DISPAIR. The webs upon webs of Darkness carefully spread across the Senate district? Choking the Temple?

Mmmmm, tasty kindling. Good fuel! Sith Artifact LIKEY~!

It RIPS and TEARS. A screaming MAW IN THE SKY. A black hole for Dark Side energy that takes and takes and TAKES. Dropping people all across the district below. KILLING the particularly irredeemably monstrous. After all~!

The Force? Is in all things.

You DON'T have to be Force Sensitive, to Fall. Just a BASTARD. Just cruel and selfish, hateful and needlessly petty. All the things that would sour and turn a Jedi? Can sour and turn YOU too. Just slower, quiter, and with less explosions. But! It still wraps the Dark around your bones. Feeds it into your blood.

Kills you, when it all gets ripped away.

One must wonder.... how many Senators die instantly? And how many die in the days to come? Slowly, painfully, bed-bound as they reflect on who they had become? The fall out will be SPECTACULAR.

The Jedi's fault? How? How is their being stretched so thin they could not mount a proper response THEIR fault? How is YOUR corruption, THEIR fault? Please note all the individuals who were FINE! Baffled, but FINE!

But perhaps you are correct.

Perhaps, for the safety of ALL, we should MOVE our main Temple.

We've done it before. We can do it again. Or do you not want to HAVE that conversation? Hmmm? No, no, we wouldn't want to be a THREAT to you FINE people! You HONORABLE senators! Please, continue to yell and make demands! SEE HOW FAR IT GETS YOU!

Would they normally send someone more diplomatic? Yes. But STRANGELY all of THEM had weird SITH Darkness on them that got violently ripped off! They are in the halls of healing. Unconscious. Because getting Sith shit, that was hooked into your brain, violently ripped out? Not GREAT! 0 out of 10 healers recommend!

Fuuuuck you! Yes, I bite! And be warned, my Race is VENOMOUS! *aggravated Jedi Senior Padawan noises, hissing*

Danny? Got pulled out in FULL regalia. Just FULL on Ice and Stars. Full "I am the Cosmos beholding itself, I am the dead child you could not save.", beyond vanta-black armor and cape like a window to ever shifting stars, crown of aurora borealis playing off the eternal ice, all upon a youngling that seems forever floating... frozen in time. By death.

Was it sacrifice? Natural? Is it just a shape the spirit takes? IS he a youngling?

They both can and can not feel him.

Both can and can not SEE him.

He is so young....

A child king, hsmiles with such shared grief, when they look upon that too large crown, upon a head that should never have been forced to wear it. Like a child, forced to wear his father's mantle too soon. Is that what happened? Was it something worse? They can not bring themselves to ask.

Not when he is so... so DELIGHTED?

Playing with the younglings. In AWE of each and everyone of them. The things they learned each day. "Who wants to go flying?" "Try to float me!" "I believe in you." Oh, he BASKS in their Light like a desperate thing. Showers them with praise and attention, gentle corrections and undivided attention.

He is empathic. Alive and dead. Fascinated by the stars.

And of course... King™.

No, no, he's not interested in your Senate. Doesn't like um, Doesn't trust um. The vibes are RANCID. But I mean... if you REALLY need an army so bad? Since it seems you guys are pushing yourself WAY outside of your normal duties? Like, he doesn't know, uhhh farmers burning crops to prevent starvation? Something like that.

Just? Since you hate it? But are worried people will die? Or those Clone guys (Sweet! Clones! Ellie is gonna be HYPED.) Are gonna die? He could, you know... fix that for you?

JUST you.

We're gonna have to get it in writing. And they won't do anything BUT stop the robots and help people. They don't actually answer to you. Soooo.....?

.......are you offering us an army? (Yeah. An endless skeleton army. Lead by the greatest Generals to have ever died.).....(they get bored.)

And SUDDENLY? Oh look! The Galactic suffering levels? Just fucking DROPPED. All those SENTIENT Clone soldiers! Dying in vain, in agony, ALONE? Not happening! Skeletons can get blasted apart, fade, reassemble, and march RIGHT BACK OUT! This is GREAT fun!

And even better? Unlike with Pariah? THIS time they march? King PHANTOM is sending them to HELP people! Woooooo! Destroy metal crunchy things! Help clean up rubble! Build a house! Rescue trapped people from rubble! Tireless effort! Honor and service! Thanks for the FREE METAL! *rips apart your robots*

There are no anti-ecto technologies here! The BEST they have is Force users! Which? Ha ha ha! GOOD LUCK. That's what? One? TWO? Of you?? To HOW MANY of us??? *cackles in bone army*

And! If they happen upon OTHER things they don't like? Whoop! Should'a thought of that! Before being a DICK! King Phantom says slavery is ILLEGAL. And we, the FORMER slave army of King Pariah, have Millennium Long ISSUES with that! (Easy to remove that chip, when you can reach THROUGH a person. Here you Slaver FUCK. YOU have it! In fact! Have ALL of them. From each and every slave.)

Anikin LOVES his new Bone friends. They are WONDERFUL. Him n them? Bonded. He's made them all speech boards. They're plotting the gruesome end of the Hutt cartel together. He's showing them the holo of his wedding. They're making Super Advanced Chip scan-.....

W....Why is his scanner going off? There should be nothing near by for it to recognize. The only thing HERE is him, his Bone Buddies, and Rex for supervision.... *mounting horror as he slowly waves the device around* *beep*

R-Rex?

...

......

The Clones? De-chipped in like... two days. There are too many skeletons to NOT have them be able to just? *reach in, feel for the Non-Clone bit, grab it, pull out* didn't even need surgery! But boy, oh, boy! Is Anikin upset. That sure is a Slave chip! Hey, Kamino! Have a Chosen One and his Bones Bros! Some Clones in orbit with Real Big Guns.

And Palatine? Is? PISSED.

His whole ass Empire is dissolving in his hands. The Sith Master Plan! Going up in smoke! Walls are closing in! All because of ONE(1) glowing BRAT.

Wanna bet he goes after him... with LIGHTNING? In human form, of course. Danny. Who DIED to electricity. Who has, throughout ALL of this? Been chilling in the Jedi temple, finally... FINALLY! Unwinding. Putting down the stress on his shoulders. Healing from his childhood. Cuddling cute babies and laying on the grass to nap, listen to the waterfall. Be at PEACE, surrounded by the Light of the Jedi.

Danny, who has been making friends. Enjoying the archives. For once in his stressful, STRESSFUL life? Letting OTHER PEOPLE deal with it. Playing with alien puppies and weird not-cats. Trying new foods! Seeing about adopting some droids that Tucker might get on with. Sorry "buying" some droids. (As though those Restraining Bolts aren't coming off the SECOND they droids are in his hands.)

It's been cool. Relaxing. Great for his mental health.

They have folks LITERALLY called Mind Healers here! Jazz would love it!

So obviously Sith face ruins it. Hurts his friends and blasts him with LIGHTNING. The kids are crying and terrified. This was supposed to be some sort of "learn about how the Republic works" day trip to the Senate! He was helping chaperone. They are being so, SO brave. Staying together. Trying to get their teacher out of harms ways.

He? Is? PISSED.

How DARE you. How FUCKING DARE YOU?! A fight between adults? Not his Reality, not his business. Clockwork drilled that into his head. He CAN'T keep the Multiverse together. Fight every fight for everyone, save everything. People have free will. Have to decide for THEMSELVES. Choose to do the right thing.

It doesn't mean SHIT if they don't save themselves. Wont last, in the end, because they won't have LEARNED a damn thing. He GETS that! But KIDS?! Ooooh ho ho! He DRAWS THE LINE AT KIDS! At shocking the SHIT out of him with LIGHTNING!

You want to poke the sleeping titan 'til it wakes up?

Well congrats!

YOU HAVE HIS ATTENTION NOW!

*inhale*

*Wail*

Palpatine goes through the HOLE where about fifteen walls USED to be. Half of Coruscant physically hears it and EVERYONE with even a TOUCH of Force sensitivity FEELS it. Across the entire planet and up into orbit.

Dying screams and the crackle of electricity. Regret. Fear. The desperate need to protect, in your final moment. Pain and pressure, the cool slide of Death come to take it all away. You were just fourteen. You were just fourteen! You died screaming, you came back screaming, in the place between... will you ever stop screaming?

You are the Galaxy, the Cosmos, the INFINITE. You are just a child.

How many souls died screaming?

Can't you hear ALL OF THEM?

Pissed or not, kids come first. Fuuuuuck that guy. Danny picks up the teacher, the kids, and back to the Temple they go. Teacher survives. Kids cling. Senate gets itself into a snit over the "unprovoked attack". But the thing is? A whole CLASS of Baby Jedi say the Chancellor is the Sith Lord. Look too spooked to be lying. Their teacher, too WOUNDED for this to be a prank.

The Jedi close rank.

Palpatine tries to use the Clones.

You know... the De-chipped by their Bone Bros Clones.

Commander Fox? Gets to finally, FINALLY(!!!) live out his long time fantasy... of shooting the fucker. Slug thrower. Tragically, fails to kill him. But the attempt WAS enthusiastic! We applaud his attempt. Commander Fox gets to join Danny in the Gardens, under a Crechelings pile, staring at the stain glass ceiling and Not Thinking Or Having Responsibilities.

Huh.... kid's right. This IS nice.

Fox enjoys being a climb-able lump for the Crechelings. Welcome to the club, my dude.

The other Jedi? THEY can figure it out. The Temple is literally unassailable. If needs be, his army can PICK IT UP AND MOVE IT. Danny is Vibin. Have a fruit. You hear about Skywalker? Making pretty good ground on his whole "one man and massive bone army campaign against Slavery" thing. Missed the whole.... his buddy was an asshole reveal. Apparently reception is spotty. *shrugs*

His wife's nice though! *various married Jedi agree, Obi-Wan continues to sulk because: "REALLY?! You didn't even INVITE ME!? My own Padawan! To his WEDDING! Anikin how COULD YO-!?"*

[lazycats-stuff]

I wanted to know if you could make another request for the Bat Brother that was created to be a weapon when the Black Canary said he was ready to go to school, Bruce put him in one, but a boy tried to intimidate him and the Bat Brother broke his arm. He still couldn't understand what he did wrong because of his training.

I sure can. I love that idea. Also, this gif is Bruce explaining to the Bat Bro, that no, you can't go break people's arms.

Summary: (Y/N) doesn't understand that intimidation doesn't require broken bones.

Warnings: Bruce is a tired dad, (Y/N) is a weapon, but nothing specific about training, mentions of attacking, but nothing specific

Bruce sighed as he got a call from the Justice League. Another child that was created to be a weapon. Why? And why is he the first person they call? Damian was with him, since he was on patrol with him since they got the call.

" Father, why are we here? " Damian asked as the two used the Zeta tubes. Bruce sighed yet again.

" Because they think I'm an expert when it comes to children who are murderous. Just because I made sure you are tame I presume, " Bruce replied and Damian scoffed and rolled his eyes.

" Oh please. I'm not murderous. "

" Should I start talking about shrubbery? My beloved animal statues are still recovering. You started at what, 5 am? I did eradicate that habit of yours, didn't I? "

Damian huffed again, crossing his arms.

And yes, if you somewhat managed to tame Damian, a child murderous as him if you don't have Damian, you are officially an expert. That's why everyone turns to him when there is a murderous child. Bruce should start teaching them how to deal with such children.

" Superman. " Bruce nodded in his direction and Superman nodded back.

" Evening you two. We've managed to get the boy's name. His name is (Y/N), last name still unknown. We found him in one of Lex's labs. Under some nth alias. " Superman crossed his arms and Bruce scoffed.

Of course. When in doubt who else could be creating clones? Lex Luthor.

" Why isn't he thrown in prison when there is overwhelming amount of evidence against him? " Damian questioned and Bruce more often than not wondered the exact same thing.

The answer?

" Connections Damian, connections. " Bruce rubbed his chin and Damian scoffed, muttering an of course underneath his breath.

" But don't worry. He'll fall down eventually. If my hunch is right, he is probably messing with taxes. And if there's one thing that America doesn't like, is when you mess with taxes. That's how they took down Al Capone, " Bruce said to Damian, who nodded.

" We'll be waiting for a while then. " Damian crossed his arms now and Bruce chuckled.

" Don't worry Damian. IRS will take care of him. And once he's down, we'll strike as well and put him away for life. Don't worry about it. And how is (Y/N) doing? " Bruce asked, turning back to look at Clark.

" He's... Well, he had to be sedated. He broke Flash's nose. And we checked on him via cameras and he seems... Calm, but I've known you long enough to know that he is simmering deep down inside. " Clark chuckled and Bruce smirked.

" So you called me because the boy is mini me? " Bruce mused and Clark chuckled, shaking his head in amusement.

" Yup. I wouldn't recommend meeting him now though. He is pissed off. Black Canary will come by in the afternoon so she can talk to him. I know that she can take care of herself, but you should be here, just in case. " Clark scratched the back of his head, yawning.

" Tired already Superman? " Bruce teased and Clark chuckled.

" I'm going back to the cave father. Should I tell the others about (Y/N)? "

" Please do Damian. Warn them about the new addition that is going to come. I'll be back in about 20 minutes. Tell the others to sleep as well, " Bruce told Damian and the Robin nodded, disappearing through the Zeta tubes.

Bruce turned back to Clark, who offered him a tablet with the information that Bruce was interesting in. They both knew each other so well.

" Everything here is an estimate, besides the physical appearance. The age and all that stuff, " Clark explained and Bruce nodded as he read over everything. " He's a mini you Bruce, " Clark added and Bruce rolled his eyes underneath the mask.

" Alright. I'll transfer these to the Batcave and just text me the time when Black Canary is coming so I can ditch work. I'm pretty sure I can ditch a boring meeting. " Bruce smirked to himself as he started the transfer.

" Ah yes, the infinite meetings of a CEO. " Clark chuckled and Bruce handed him the tablet back.

" The boy will be fine, I'm sure of it. With some therapy and stability, he'll be good, " Bruce said and Clark nodded.

" I can only hope so. "

Months went by since that last conversation. (Y/N) was aggressive at first and outright refused to talk to Black Canary, who had Bruce behind her, just in case. And yes, Bruce had to restrain (Y/N) to make sure that he didn't hurt himself or Black Canary when he has decided to attack.

And attacks were frequent at first. More often than not, Bruce had to restrain him just so that they could get through a single session. And slowly but surely, therapy has started to work. (Y/N) was slowly but surely starting to opening up and became less and less hostile. Of course, there was a long way to go still, but he was making decent progress.

Bruce brought his boys to socialize with (Y/N). The boys are all trained and if (Y/N) does get hostile, they can take care of themselves. Bruce has warned them about it, so they were all prepared.

And (Y/N) seemed to appreciate the gesture, although distrusting of them at first. So, the boys have decided to take a different approach. Dick has decided to bring some books to (Y/N), some of his own favorites, so that he wouldn't be left to his own devices, aka, his mind and be pissed.

So Dick brought a lot of books. (Y/N) liked them all and Dick was proud to say that he had a great taste in books.

Jason has simply decided to talk to (Y/N) about stupid things he could think of. (Y/N) had a lot of questions for him and Jason was more than happy to answer them. He found (Y/N) nice, but too similar to Damian when he first joined.

So Damian and (Y/N) bonded quickly over their experiences. Damian opened up about his own experiences, sharing techniques on how to remain calm in certain situations. Offered meditation techniques as well and gave him advice on how to accept certain things.

And Tim brought him a tablet where he could watch cartoons, movies, whatever he wanted to get familiar with the world outside of fighting. Essentially, it felt like they were socializing a little puppy. (Y/N) really liked the tablet and took great care of it.

Black Canary also like the approach that the boys were taking and (Y/N) has been even less hostile in their sessions and has actually started to open up to Black Canary. Bruce was also a constant in their sessions, and while he may have looked like a brooding figure, he actually helped (Y/N) be calm.

Soon enough, (Y/N) went to school since Black Canary deemed him ready enough. Was Bruce nervous beyond belief for the first time in a long time? Yes. Damian might have been raised to be a weapon in some sort of capacity, but he was raised as an assassin and assassins are to supposed to blend in. And be somewhat sociable.

(Y/N) was not really raised to fit in. He was raised to be a weapon. Not to fit in. Only to kill. So was Bruce nervous beyond belief during the first week. He has hoped he wouldn't get called in to the principal's office.

But hope doesn't last forever.

Bruce was in Wayne Enterprises, in his office, doing some paperwork when the phone rang and Bruce recognized the number. It was the principal of the school. Bruce knows that number since he used to get a lot of calls from the same man while Jason was still going there.

It's burned into his memory.

He had a feeling it was about (Y/N) and was proven right. He muttered a simple ' I'm coming.' Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath. This was going to be one rather uncomfortable conversation.

(Y/N) got suspended for 2 weeks. Bruce was not happy in the slightest. (Y/N) broke the poor boy's arm just because the boy decided to intimidate him. Was intimidating (Y/N) fair? No. But was breaking someone's arm just because of that justified?

Absolutely not.

Bruce sat (Y/N) down in the kitchen, thinking that the others wouldn't be home. Oh he was very wrong. They boys were back earlier since they had heard what happened. How? Bruce can't exactly know, but he knows that he has trained those boys. So somehow, they all found out and were ready to listen in.

" (Y/N)... We've talked about what to do when someone is intimidating you. You can't put your hands on them. " Bruce put his hands on his hips and (Y/N) crossed his arms.

The four boys were enjoying this. Jason snickered to himself and Damian smirked.

" I mean, (Y/N) isn't technically in the wrong. Why was the kid intimidating him in the first place? " Jason muttered to himself and Damian nodded, agreeing with Jason.

" It was a form of self defense. "

Tim shook his head and Dick chuckled to himself.

" No, self defense would mean that he put his hands on you first. But he didn't. You did. Which is assault. Thank God that by paying the medical bills would keep them off our back. " Bruce now crossed his arms, trying to be calm and patient. " I know it's not easy to live a normal life when you weren't raised like that, but you have to adapt. Black Canary and myself have taught you that. Where is the disconnect? " Bruce inquired.

" Well, he threatened me. Soon enough, he would turn into a real threat, " (Y/N) defended himself and Bruce swore that (Y/N) was like an another version of Damian.

" It doesn't matter. It's not self defense. I've texted Black Canary and you are going to have your sessions double during these 2 weeks, " Bruce declared and (Y/N) scoffed, showing some sort of sass.

Bruce wanted to rip his hair out.

" Go to your room and reflect on what I told you. I'll call you down when dinner is done, " Bruce sighed, rubbing his forehead. (Y/N) clenched his jaw as he walked upstairs.

Damian and Jason were smirking, knowing exactly how he felt. Tim and Dick sighed to themselves. They knew that (Y/N) felt frustrated and angry. They had another version of Damian on their hands. Maybe an even more difficult version.

[jamdoughnutmagician]

Teenage Dreams (13 going on 30 AU) - part 1

Eddie Munson x Reader

Being 13 sucked, all the cliques and groups in school, fighting for popularity and all you wanted to be was 30, flirty and thriving, just like the cool girls in Star Magazine.

Next Part ->

Word Count:2,763.

SERIES MASTERLIST

Masterlist // Eddie Munson Masterlist

*dividers by @saradika-graphics

Thirteen, what a terribly awkward age for anyone to be. Never quite sure about where you were supposed to fit in. All the popular girls would pour over the latest gossip magazine, nattering about which heart-throb of the month they thought was hotter. You couldn’t help but overhear the shrill giggling about how far they’d gone with their boyfriends, with a scandalised scream from the group when Stacy Evans revealed how she had made out with her boyfriend at Jessie Miller’s party last week. The boys weren’t much better either, all hanging out in their groups, guffawing and joking, rating seemingly every girl in the cafeteria on a scale of one to ten.

And you weren’t an exception to this, no. As you carefully weave your way through the bustling school’s cafeteria, balancing your tray in your arms you catch the attention of Jason Carver, the most bone-headed of all the boys, but he was a promising young talent in the school’s basketball team, so he got away with a lot of the stuff he did and said, with nothing more than a light warning breezing past him.

“Nice Hello Kitty shirt, did your mommy pick that out for you?” comes Jason’s shouted remark, high-fiving his crew when they laughed at his joke.

“Hey, Carver, leave her alone! All you care about is throwing balls into laundry baskets anyway!” and there was Eddie, your best friend in the whole world, always at your side through thick and thin. He slings a friendly arm over your shoulder as he walks with you to your usual seats. “How’s it feel to be turning the big one-three, you’re officially a teenager now!” He laughs playfully.

“Don’t remind me!” you squeal back, shoving his shoulder with a laugh of your own.

As you walk with him to your seats, you are once again stopped in your tracks, confronted by Nancy Wheeler, the school’s resident popular girl and her small army of followers who went with her everywhere.

“Hey, bestie can I talk to you for a moment?” she narrows her eyes towards Eddie “Y’know, just us girls.”

“Alright, I can take the hint, Wheeler. I’ll catch up with you later, okay?” Eddie smiles before walking off.

“The girls and I were so excited about coming to your birthday party tonight, and I told Steve Harrington about it and he said he wanted to come with us,�� Nancy started, twirling a dark, bouncy curl around her finger.

“Really?”

“Yeah, but Mrs.O’Donnell is up our ass about this group project, and Steve said he would help us out, so I guess nobody is going to be able to make it, which is a shame, because we really all wanted to come.” she says with a tilt of her head and an almost pleading look in her blue eyes.

“I could write your report for you.” you offer.

“Fabulous!” she cheers, her pink lip gloss glinting under the fluorescent lights “Then I’ll see you at your party I guess.” She smiles, and with that, Nancy is gone, her gaggle of girls following closely behind her.

Eddie walks beside you as you make your way home, your backpack slouching down your shoulders with every step.

“Y’know I can’t believe you invited Nancy and her army of girls to your party tonight.” Eddie grumbles

“They’re my friends!” you defend.

“Nancy and her clones are not your friends, okay?”

“Well not yet anyway, but they’re so popular and I just think if I could get them to like me, maybe I could hang out with them.” you explain. “I mean it’s middle school, right? And not being popular is like, total social suicide.”

“I thought you didn’t care about that stuff! Why would you even want to hang out with them in the first place? You’re way cooler than them. They’re always so concerned about following “the latest trends”, they’re all so unoriginal!”

“I don’t want to be original, Eddie, I want to be cool!” you whine.

Eddie shakes his head at you dismissively, before reaching into his pocket.

“Want some skittles?” he asks, pulling out the brightly coloured packet.

“Skittles are for kids, Eddie.” you scoff with a laugh before holding your hand open to him.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” he smiles, dumping a handful of skittles into your palm. “I’ll see you at your party later, birthday girl.” 

You wrap your arms around him in a hug, saying your goodbyes,  before going your separate ways.

You fluff your hair in the mirror, swiping on a sparkly layer of strawberry pink lip gloss and adding the finishing touches to your baby blue eyeshadow. The electric sound of Van Halen’s ‘Jump’ stream through the tape player in your bedroom, it was a mixtape Eddie had put together for you for your birthday last year full of all the songs that he knew you liked plus a few more that he thought you might enjoy.

You turn yourself around in the mirror one final time, smoothing down the wrinkles on your flouncy pink party dress with your hands before putting down your lip gloss on your cluttered vanity table when you hear your mother knocking at your bedroom door.

“Honey! Can I come in?” she calls out.

You offer her a grumble of affirmation and she swings her way into your room.

“There’s my little birthday girl!” she squeals, pinching your cheeks.

You pull away from her, groaning with embarrassment.

“Mom! Stop teasing me, I’m not a little girl anymore, okay! I’ve got to look perfect if I want to get in with Nancy and her friends!”

“Oh, darling, you don’t need to worry about stuff like that. Just because you don’t look like the girls in Star Magazine, doesn’t mean that you’re not beautiful in your own way.”

“But I don’t wanna be beautiful in my own way!” you whine. “I wanna be like these girls.” you say, pointing to the beautiful, fashion model in the magazine spread out on your bed. They seemed to have it all figured out, always looking so effortlessly beautiful and carefree, without the stress of teen angst looming over them at all times. Thirty, flirty and thriving, the article had read, and that’s what you wanted. To be a flirty thirty-year-old without a care in the world.

“Sweetie, there’s a reason you don’t look like these girls, they’re models.” comes your mother’s response.

“I want to be thirty.” you pout.

Your mother hugs you close, placing a kiss to your forehead.

“You’ll get there one day, but until then, you’re my beautiful thirteen-year-old daughter.”

You’re alone in the basement of your house where it’s been decorated to within an inch of it’s life, brightly coloured streamers hang from the ceiling and a sparkly ‘happy birthday’ banner is plastered to the wall.

Michael Jackson’s ‘Thriller’ music video plays from the small tv in the corner of the room, and you can’t help but join in with the familiar dance. When the music video first came out, you and Eddie had spent ages learning the routine religiously, it was one of the few songs that you both liked, the music being fun and funky enough for your tastes, whilst the music video was the right amount of creepy and spooky to capture Eddie’s attention.

You get lost in the music, the dance moves so ingrained in your brain that they come second nature to you, so much so that you fail to hear the creaking footsteps as Eddie descends his way down the steps to the basement.

“Happy Birthday!” he shouts, carrying a large pink box in his arms all neatly tied up with a sparkly bow. “I’ve got you a special present!”

“Oh my god, Eddie!”  you beam. “You know you didn’t have to get me anything!”

“And come to my best friend’s birthday party empty-handed, come on, you know that’s not my style.” he smirks as he sets down the box on the table. 

“What is it?” you look at him eagerly.

“Well it’s your birthday present, why don’t you go ahead and open it up and find out?”

You pull at the ribbon bow and lift open the box to reveal a carefully hand-built princess castle dollhouse. It’s carefully made with lots of little cardboard boxes stuck together, painted a soft baby pink, complete with hand-painted twirling vine flowers climbing up the spiral towers. Inside the walls are lined with lavender paper and colourful candy wrappers in place of stained glass windows.

“Remember, how you said you wanted the Barbie princess castle for your birthday last year? Well I wanted to give you something better than Barbie’s castle, and give you your own castle.” he smiles. “Look, and there you are, the birthday princess in her castle!” he smiles, nodding towards the miniature princess figurine, painted to look exactly like you in the mock-up throne room. “It was a D&D miniature I had been saving for this exact moment!”

“Oh Eddie this is beautiful!” you bubble, this was the sweetest thing that anybody had ever done for you.

“Wait! I almost forgot the best bit!” he smirks, reaching into his pocket to pull out another miniature D&D figure. “Can’t have a princess castle without a knight in shining armour to protect it now, can you?” It was a small knight, painted to look like Eddie, with his long dark curls, holding up a sword and a shield. “Thought you might need me to help protect you and your castle from those pesky dragons.”

You marvel at the amount of thought, care and attention to detail that Eddie had put into your present, your smile beaming across your face.

“And for the finishing touch, just a sprinkle of wishing dust!” he says, sprinkling a small amount of iridescent silver glitter over the castle.

“Wishing dust?” 

“Yeah, wishing dust knows what’s in your heart of hearts, your true desires and will make all your dreams come true.”

You and Eddie have a moment of peace, before the doorbell sounds out across the house.

“Oh they’re here!” you squeak, rushing around to tidy up as best as you can before letting Nancy in. “I’m just going to put this away for a moment, just so there’s room for everyone here.” you say picking up Eddie’s hand-made castle and putting it in the broom closet.  “Put on some music, please Eddie!”

You make your way to the front door, quickly smoothing your hands down your party dress before opening the door to Nancy and her gang of girls.

“Come on in, the party’s downstairs.” you smile, gesturing for everyone to make their way into your house. One by one all the girls follow Nancy inside, everybody shedding their jackets and dumping them into your arms as they go.

Just as you were about to close the door, Steve Harrington rolls up, with his friends Tommy and Billy trailing closely behind him. He was so cute, way more popular than you’ll ever be, but it never stopped you having a crush on him. He was the boy that all the girls wanted, with his head full of soft, shiny, bouncy hair and charming smile, it wasn’t hard to see why he had all the girls falling at his feet. The most popular guy in school, and he was coming to your birthday party. 

“Hey, Steve!” you wave him in, trying to play it cool. “The party's just getting started, come on in!”

Downstairs everyone was gathered together, and Eddie had put on his music, a noisy mix of screeching guitar strings and heavy drum beats. I suppose in leaving him in charge of the music, he was bound to play a little Metallica.

Although, however much Eddie was rocking out to Master Of Puppets, everyone else turned their nose up at his music choices. Particularly Nancy, who took it upon herself to wander over to the stereo, flick the switch off and eject the tape from the player, filling the room with immediate silence.

“You know, it’s only you who actually likes this music, freak.” Nancy sneers, pushing the tape into Eddie’s hands.

“Whatever,” Eddie shakes his head, making his way over to you “I’m going to head next door, go get my guitar, okay?” 

“Do whatever you want, Eddie. It’s not like I need a play-by-play of everything.” you tell him, in an effort to look cool in front of Nancy and her friends, which earns you a tittering giggle from the group.

“See you later, loser!” comes a whining laugh from one of Nancy’s friends as Eddie walks away.

“Hey, I have an idea of how we could spice up this party!” Nancy pipes up, flouncing across the room. “We could play Seven Minutes in heaven!” 

Everyone nods, a murmur of agreement sounding.

“..And since you’re the birthday girl, it’s only fitting that you go first.” she smirks, taking her satin scarf from around her neck and tying around your eyes as a blindfold, before walking you towards the open door of the broom closet. “You just go in there, and we’ll choose some lucky guy to follow you in, and then he gets to do whatever he wants with you for seven whole minutes. I know Steve is dying to spend some one-on-one time with you” comes her bubblegum sweet voice in your ear.

Nancy steers you into the closet, her hands on your shoulders.

“Before I forget, you did write my project report for Mrs. O'Donnell's class, right?” she asks.

“Yeah it’s on the table.” you nod.

“Thanks. Remember, keep that blindfold on and no peeking! Oh! And by the way, Steve’s big on going to second base.”

Nancy quietly locks the closet door, leaving you stuck inside waiting for your perfect first kiss with Steve Harrington.

Nancy and her gaggle of girls, along with Steve, Billy and Tommy make their way out of your basement, walking back up the stairs, passing Eddie as he comes back down.

“What’s going on?” Eddie asks, his eyebrows knitting together in confusion.

“She’s waiting for you in that closet over there!” and with that Nancy leaves, quickly dashing from the party in favour of something more her scene.

Eddie shakes his head, Nancy had been bitchy enough to think that it was funny to leave you locked up in the cramped space of the broom-closet. He unlocks the door to see you sitting on the floor of the cramped up space, with the scarf tied around your eyes.

“I thought you weren’t going to come.” you say softly, thinking that finally you were going to get the chance to kiss Steve Harrington. “Where are you? I can’t feel you.” your soft voice comes out as you reach your hands out to find your man of mystery.

Eddie quietly allows himself the moment to reach his hand out to yours, letting his fingers interlock with yours.

“Oh Steve, I knew you were worth waiting for.” you sigh dreamily.

“Sorry to burst your bubble” Eddie laughs uncomfortably.

“Eddie?! What are you doing here?” you gasp, pulling the blindfold from your eyes. “Where’s Steve? Where’s everybody gone?” 

“They all left!” 

“What did you do?” you ask accusatorily.

“I didn’t do anything! I just went to get my guitar, and when I came back everyone was leaving!” Eddie defends.

You feel the red hot flare of embarrassment eating away in the pit of your stomach. Embarrassed that Nancy would actually want to be your friend, embarrassed that someone like Steve would actually go for a girl like you, but most of all upset at the fact that in reality, nobody wanted to come to your birthday party.

“No, get out!” you cry, pushing Eddie away from you.

“Wait! Please just let me talk to you! Please!” he pleads, but it all falls on deaf ears as you sink back into the closet, closing the door, leaving you to sit with your emotions.

“Leave me alone Eddie! I hate you, I hate me, I hate everybody!” you cry out shrinking into yourself, bringing your knees up to your chest, and slumping your head in your folded arms, letting your frustrated tears fall freely.

“I want to be thirty!” you cry out. “I wish I was thirty, flirty and thriving!”

A glistening sparkle washes over you, as you hug yourself tighter, wishing so hard that all of this was just a bad dream, that you were going to wake up from this and be living your dream life.

Thirty, flirty and thriving.

@paybacksawitch @penguinsandpotterheads @ali-r3n @aphrogeneias @eddiesxangel @mrsjellymunson @munsonology @onegirlmanytales @xxbimbobunnyxx

[elliebyrrdwrites]

The Marriage Law Trope:

It doesn’t even matter what kind of person you are. Good, bad, total fucking wack-job? You could be a fucking Saint and it wouldn’t matter. Because the world is made and it is ruled by a few. Just a handful of people who decide what we do. They decide what the rules are and we just fucking follow them.

Because all we are, to them, are sheep. Sheep that are soldiers who give up everything for their gain. Not our own. They gain more money and more power and we die. Eventually, we just die, all broken and battered. Often, we die tragically.

It’s all by design. We are like a cancer, growing and growing. We are metastasizing into something that cannot be stopped. So, the powers that be, they take us and give us a purpose. The purpose, it serves them and them alone.

Because people breed like fucking mice. We fuck and fuck and pop out little clones of ourselves programmed to do the same fucking thing. So, the little handful of powerful people take advantage of it. And we just keep going, fucking and surviving. We migrate and fuck other races and we evolve. We grow accustomed to the climate changes, the ecological conditions that seem ever changing.

At least, that is the way it’s supposed to happen. Survival of the fittest, right?

But the funny thing is, wizarding kind isn’t like people.

We’re special. We have magic and we can cure illness and create potions that regenerate our organs and our bones. We rarely get sick. But when we do, it’s devastating. And, we’re worse than pandas. Because we fuck and we fuck, often by force, and we still cannot produce enough offspring to give our kind any hope of survival. Because we’re not the fittest. Despite all of the blood purity garbage, we are not supposed to be here.

I’m not supposed to be here.

And the point is, that no matter how hard my father tries, he is not one of those few powerful men. Because it took three years for Shaklebot to start losing pull after the war ended. Three years for him to start losing popularity amongst the rich and greedy. Three years for him to cave into the roll of every other minister before him. A puppet. Which is what my father wants me to become. Which is why all of this is fucking beautiful and sick.

And the sick fucks can see that our kind is at risk for becoming endangered. Soon, if we don’t migrate and acclimatize to a new environment, we will die off. We will become extinct. We we ill be exterminated by our own bigotry.

Oh, the irony.

And the point is, I am not attracted to my fiancé. It has nothing to do with how frail and sickly she is. I’ve never liked her. Not before our fathers signed a contract promising us to each other, not before and not a second after.

When your libido drops, you do things that help you feel like a man. Because I can’t fuck my fiancé and that is embarrassing. So, I work out. I run every day, sometimes for hours. I visit old classmates and we get drunk and we fight. sometimes with each other, sometimes with others. It took three years for her to come down with some rare blood illness. And the point is, the night before I was supposed to walk down the aisle and marry Astoria Greengrass, a decree came down from the minister himself, stopping me from my impending doom.

The point is, the ministry decided that it was time to stop fucking our cousins and began to turn to muggle born witches for breeding. We must marry half bloods and mudbloods in order to save Wizarding Kind. We must fuck them, fill them with our seed and produce heirs who will, eventually, taut their blood status. Because, in a handful of years, twenty or thirty, the law will be revoked and then the heirs of the sacred twenty eight wont know that their blood is tainted by mud. They will be able to stick their fucking noses in the air and start the cycle all over again.

Like I said, survival of the fittest, right?

And I don’t belong here because right now, there’s a solicitor standing in our foyer, breaking the news to me and to my parents. they’re breaking the news to Astoria and to her parents.

She is too sick and, essentially, useless. They need to grow the population. They need to create new alleles that will be passed down and down and ensure that we survive.

I’m lounging on the settee and I’m watching the solicitor rub at the back of his neck as he attempts to tell the Malfoy’s and the Greengrasses why they cannot go through with the wedding that has been planned for the past three years.

“James,” My father calls the man by his name because he knows him. James was one of those men who used to bustle in and out of my fathers studies. He was supposed to accept his bribes and push my fathers agenda. My fathers agenda was power for the Malfoy name.

But a couple of weeks ago, the man stopped stopping by. Things were getting tense. Because there had been a decision that didn’t involve my father and his money.

“You’re expecting us to cancel a wedding that has cost us a small fortune, and all for what?”

“It’s a direct order from the minister, himself, Lucius.” James is rolling and rolling the parchment with the declaration that mine and Astoria’s nuptials would be unlawful. Because as of midnight tonight, the law will be passed. And just as my father chose and sold me off to the highest bidder within the pureblood circle, the minister has ordered me to do the same. But not to Astoria. No, the minister has had his finest men and women put their heads together and come up with some sort of formula that has decided who would work best with my magic, and be more willing to accept my see.

“Can we at least, petition for a half breed?” My mother asks and everyone’s eyes dart to her. Astoria is pale as ever, terrified of what her future may bring. She doesn’t know if she will be paired with some mudblood wizard, or if she will be deemed to sickly to be sold off. Too weak to enslave.

“Isn’t it better than a mudblood?” Mother says to father, who purses his lip and lifts his eyebrows in assent before we all look back at James for a response.

“I’m afraid the matches will be non-negotiable.”

“That’s absurd!” My father growls.

“Well, at least your money won’t be a total waste. There can still be a wedding.” James gestures to the flowers filling the foyer. White flowers fill the entire manor. Spilling into the halls and out into the gardens, where the ceremony was to be held.

“Who is it, then?” I finally ask, before taking another sip of my drink. The thing is, I’m barely present. I know what’s going on, but it’s like the volume on the world is turned down and there’s a blanket thrown over the speaker, muffling all of the noise and my movements feel heavy. Like I am trudging through mud deep under the sea.

“Most wont know their matches until tomorrow afternoon.”

Most are not Malfoy’s. They are not wealthy and semi-powerful.

“But, I did manage to look at yours,” He nods to me before his eyes shift, uneasily, toward my father.

The name falls from James lips and something incredible happens. My father’s face turns a shade of red, speckled with green bits around and just under his eyes. His lips pale out, turning almost white instead of pink. Because, James has just said the name of a witch I hadn’t seen or heard from in at least three years. The name of a witch I hadn’t even recalled for the past three years.

I can't decide if this name being thrown onto me like a cold cup of water is a miracle or a my impending doom.

Hermione Granger.

Granger probably wants to cry. No, worse. She probably wants to rage. She probably wanted to tear down the walls of a world that had betrayed her. Over and over again, she was betrayed. She probably felt skinned alive and abandoned. Maybe she wasn’t enough, because she was a mudblood. She was a hero. She was too much, because she was insatiably hungry for knowledge. She was their only hope, because she was a muggle born.

Because she was a muggle born, they needed to take her and use her. She was to be caged and used like an animal. Nothing more than a mare meant for breeding.

And she had no say in the matter. They probably waxed and tweezed and groomed her until her cheeks were red and the skin between her thighs stung. 

She was probably being thanked for her bravery. Praised for her contribution to the good of wizarding kind.

But, really, they were dooming her. They hadn’t even given her a choice. The ministry had decided her fate that had been calculated by people who didn’t even know her.

She knew things had changed, and that things had become dark again. Because she was smart. Granger was the brightest witch of our age.

But this. 

This was pure evil. Granger probably felt like she had been plucked right out of her life and inserted into the middle of a dystopian future where Voldemort had won and the pure bloods ruled. 

And in a way, we did. Because we still hold the vast majority of the riches. They still held the most garner and control of the Wizengamot. 

Perhaps she had been naïve and ignorantly secured in her little bubble. Perhaps her and her two puppy dogs had failed to realize that the real war was not held on battlefields. It was inside of the dark, smoky studies of pureblood wizards. 

And they had won.

But this wasn’t about war. This was for the good of Wizarding kind, they probably told her. They probably told her that she really was the golden girl, savior of the world!

Because she will be cornered by ministry officials and order her to pack her things. They will order her to answer a summons from the minister himself. Because she was going to be forced to marry someone she hated. Someone she had not seen in three years and when she last saw him, was probably terrible to her. Because I am that kind of a wizard. I am my fathers son. I am a good little asshole. I say terrible things to wonderful people and I never think of them again.

And the point is, that is a lie.

Because I have thought about Granger. Nearly every morning, I wake up with the memory of a dream that gets leaves me with a painful erection. Every night, I blink and drift off into lucid dreams that borderline on erotic. Sometimes they are pointless. None of them ever make sense.

Because I’m a prisoner and prisoners tend to hold onto the little things from their past. Little moments that keep them going. That allow them to survive in conditions meant to break them. And I am. I’m broken and dirty and terrible.

I’m everything my father wants me to be.

Except that in my mind, there is Granger and her big sunset eyes. Her sunset eyes are golden brown and they shine on me from across the space of the school library. It’s not even a moment, it’s a snippet of a moment that meant nothing. Nothing at all, except that they are warm eyes and when I sit in my cold, frigid cell, I use it. I use the memory of the warmth and bask in it.

I’ve learned how to Occlude. Dodd insisted, actually. Told me to build my walls and compartmentalize all of my anxiety and stuff it into some sort of a box inside of my head and lock it away. But with this new ability, I found that there is this little nugget of gold just laying there.

Granger, sitting across the library, studying and I’m just watching her. Waiting. For what, I can’t tell. I don’t know. But when she looks at me, her eyes are all bright and warm and her lips lift in a little smile and then I’m finding the memory to be special, precious even. And it doesn’t make sense, because I’m a Malfoy and she is a mudblood and I hate her.

Always have, and always will.

The point is, she doesn’t belong here. She doesn’t belong in my world and she doesn't belong in my head. Still, I wonder what she looks like these days. I heard that she was going to school, again. What a novelty. Hermione Granger couldn’t stop studying. She couldn’t stop getting praises for her high marks and the fucking genius that she was.

But those are thoughts that only come to me when I’m gone, drifting high above the earth while I dream.

And when I’m awake, I don’t think of her. I think of nothing.

Because that’s what I am.

I am nothing. Because I do not belong here. This world is for mere men and I am something more, something ancient and tired. Life is tedious and boring.

And Granger is probably in the ministers office right now, screaming her argument until she’s blue in the face. She’s probably trembling at the idea of becoming the former Death Eaters little wife. Forced to let him fuck her as he pleased. She wouldn’t go down without a fight.

The realization of a pink faced, bright eyed Granger causes a bit of a stir somewhere deep inside of my guts. It’s warm and prickly all at once. It feels like waking up in the morning with a full nights rest only to find yourself in the middle of a barren cell with no heat clinging to the cold stone walls.

Trust me, I know.

[captainkirkk]

✩ WEEKLY FIC ROUND-UP ✩

All the fics I’ve read and really enjoyed in the past week-ish. Reminder: This list features any and all ratings and themes. Please look at tags and warnings on ao3 before reading.

Clone Wars/Star Wars

The Sun Swings East by kj_feybarn (+ podfic)

Over and over, Obi-Wan woke up and wished he hadn't.

Palpatine wouldn't stop until Obi-Wan had Fallen, wouldn't stop until Obi-Wan gave Palpatine a shattered galaxy in payment for his release.

He couldn't save himself, Obi-Wan had come to terms with that.

What he hadn't realized was that didn't mean there was no way to be saved.

broken surface by qigiined

"The water is not talking to you, Obi-Wan,” Feemor says without chastisement in his tone. “That’s the force you’re feeling, from the trees maybe.” The clippers turn back on. “Or a fish.” “Bones,” Obi-Wan says. The clippers turn off again. “Bones,” Obi-Wan repeats. “I want to be bones.” “You’re already bones. Where’d you get that idea?” Qui-Gon steps quietly closer to the door. “You’re scaring me, O’Ben,” Feemor says softly.

(Obi-Wan suffers from a genetic and force-based condition that makes him want to drown himself in a bog. And sometimes that bog is the shape of a sink.)

cultural ed by qigiined

PDS: so Kenobi would have been 23? 24? When the padawan came along?

WLF: so probably around 22 for conception. They need time to bake.

PDS: no one can make natborns that young.

FOX: I’m telling you all. Natborns are REALLY good at making other natborns that young. It’s their specialty.

(Cal is assigned to do some cultural education with Obi-Wan on board The Negotiator for a few days and Cody and his batch come to some understandable conclusions.)

and through the spaces of the dark by blackkat (+ podfic)

Jon's attempts to avoid a war he wants no part in are ended when Dark Woman drags him to Coruscant and straight to a posting with the Guard. He intends to keep his head down and do his work, but the mysteries around the Guard - and Fox - immediately have him in out of his depth and on uncertain ground/

Nine Worlds series (Victoria Goddard)

An Impossible Dream by SunInGlory

His Radiancy makes a proposal to his secretary. It probably isn't a real proposal...or is it?

an honorable and enviable role. by mage-pie (looselipssinksubs)

"Get up get up get up!” Something heavy landed on Varro’s stomach. He sat up just as Zerafin turned the lights on. “What?” Zerafin was grinning. The thing he’d thrown at Varro was a duffel bag. “We’re going on vacation! Get up, start packing, we’re leaving at dawn!”

That’s right, iiiiit’s… Vangavayen Vacation Time! Featuring our very favorite captive audience and peanut gallery, the highly trained and extremely professional innermost members of the Imperial Guard! Please give them your applause and moral support; they’re going to need it.

Privacy by Penguinity

Rhodin sipped his coffee. “Are us roommates cramping your style?”

“No,” Conju demurred, in a way which clearly meant yes. “I value you all deeply and am satisfied with a . . . laissez-faire . . . living situation in our retirement.”

Ludvic stirred his coffee. Rhodin peeled a banana in a desultory way. They waited.

Conju sighed. “It’s just–“ Ludvic and Rhodin leaned forward as Conju continued, “– why does he have to be underfoot all the time? Overnight?! I came down for a drink last week and nearly broke my neck tripping over a middle-aged aristocrat. It’s undignified."

Disobedience by alfgifu

You glanced down at the new paper with mild concern and felt your emotions congeal into cold terror.

It was not a standard Council paper, though it came with the usual cover slip.

It was a warrant for Cliopher’s execution.

A touch of home by alfgifu

I might have felt extremely boring coming back to the Palace through the front door in all our finery, but as Kip had pointed out, there was really no need to alarm the guards by climbing in a window when we could shock the world simply by showing up as ourselves.

[lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom]

I’d love to request a fic with a female reader and a angsty/comfort storyline with the Bad Batch.

For a broad storyline I was thinking something by along the lines of a female reader joining the Bad Batch (per Hunter’s idea) and Crosshair and/or Echo not being very happy about it. However they eventually they come around to having another girl in the group.❤️

Winning Approval

Clone Force 99 x Platonic!Reader

Summary- You felt as if you were living a purpose-less life, so when Hunter asks you to join his crew, you say yes! Not everyone on the force is as happy though... Takes place during and after Season 1, Ep. 2.

A/N- Thank you so much for requesting! I appreciate it so much, but I think I'm done writing platonic xD. This was sooo hard for me to write. I love the challenge, but i'm not sure how great my platonic writing skills are!

Word Count- 1,454

Growing up, helping people seemed natural. You remember discovering this when your old friend Kaiya fell and scratched her knee. It was second nature to dress her wound and comfort her. You were nine at the time.

Your mother enrolled you in medical classes as much as she could, you learned how to set bones, stitch holes, and treat infections. Amongst many other skills.

The city you lived in was soon taken over by the empire, but you found a way out before it was too late. That's where you found yourself- living with Suu and her husband Cut. The two had taken you in when they found out your home had been destroyed.

It didn't hurt when you found out you and Suu's parents knew each other in their youth.

When you had stumbled onto Hunter- he and his crew had set off a trap you had set in the fields. Your gun raised at him was lowered by Cut, claiming he knew them.

Things blurred together since then, everything moved so fast. Having to relocate away from the empire again was not something you fashioned. You were tired of running, and expressed your concerns.

Hunter initially suggested dropping you off at the planet of your choice, (a repayment for taking care of one of Omegas wounds).

Crash landing on a moon wasn't on anyone's roster, but it happened nonetheless. It did, however, give yourself an opportunity to prove yourself to them.

You helped Tech repair a part of the hyper-drive, earning his favor.

You shared your rations with Wrecker, earning his approval.

You played and entertained with Omega, earning her and Hunters trust.

Last was Echo. You wanted him to like you, as you enjoyed everyone's company. They were so kind to you, and didn't pay any mind to flaws. They knew themselves that they were defective- what was one more defect?

Maybe you were in over your head, would they really accept you as a member of their squad? They just met you a week ago. For all they knew you were an Empire spy... You couldn't deny that you wanted to stay though. You felt like you belonged- finally.

When Echo still avoided you like the plague and the ship was ready to fly again, you felt like you had run out of time. You sulked around the ship for awhile, waiting for Hunter to ask where you wanted to be dropped off.

That was until you noticed- he hadn't asked you. It had been hours and he had said nothing about you leaving.

This made you crack, anxiety like ice through your veins.

"Hunter, I mean this in the least selfish way possible. But, why haven't you asked where I wanted to go yet? What planet?" You thought you messed up when his face fell. He looked dissapointed?

"Well, we were hoping you would want to stay. We were going to formally ask, but Wrecker and Omega are still making the poster." He rubbed the pack of his neck and chuckled a little bit. "Would you like to join us? If not, that's completely understandable. Just name the planet and we will be headed there." He stated, making sure you knew you had options.

"R-really? You guys want me to join you?" You wanted to smack your head at how cliche you sounded. Though, you didn't have time to think on it, as Hunter started talking again.

"We don't have an official medic. While Tech possesses all the knowledge needed, he doesn't have a, uh how do I put it? A steady hand when it comes to medical means." He reasoned.

"You are more than capable as we've seen, and between Wrecker and Omega we need a medic- bad." You smiled at this. You felt a purpose. Someone needed you! You would be able to help your squad and civilians you came across on any journey.

Before you could respond, Omega and Wrecker barreled through the mid-section of the ship. Omega held a small banner in her hand, and Wrecker a large sheet of paper. It was full of colorful pictures, drawn by the two.

Your heart warmed at the effort they put in, all to make you feel welcomed.

"How could I say no? You guys have been so perfect to me, and I want to help you guys as much as I can." You smiled up at Hunter, he patted you on the shoulder. His way of officially letting you on the squad.

After that day, things started to move more smoothly. Yeah, you had some bad run-ins, almost got captured a few times, and had many near-death experiences. But, you were with your family through it all. The only problem was Echo.

Maybe 'problem' wasn't too nice of a word. Echo never did anything wrong. He just, never seemed to like your company. You guessed he didn't have to like you, not everyone would. Because of this, you pushed back your guilty feelings surrounding him. That was until you over-heard a conversation between him and Hunter.

"Something feels off about her." Echo told Hunter. You couldn't see either of them, and didn't want to expose your position by moving.

"Yeah, and what's that?"

"I can't place it. I don't understand how everyone can just accept her, no questions asked." Echo sounded confused.

"She's shown us many times that she can handle herself. Plus, Omega needs another female on the ship.'' Hunter defended you, but still wanted to hear Echos concerns.

"She's not a clone. She doesn't think like us!" Ah, so that's why he's been so put-off by you. It was because you weren't a clone. You assumed he was so used to clones, that of course you were an odd piece in their clone family.

You slowly moved back to your sleeping cot. You sunk down slowly. It wasn't your fault, really. You can't control where or how you were born. Thoughts surrounded you. Was it that obvious? Were you that different from them?

As much as you wanted to pack your bags and not burden anyone else, you decided to talk to Echo first.

After landing on a planet to resupply, you asked to speak to Echo alone.

"Uh, sure." He replied, skeptical. You both exited the ship, though keeping close.

"Echo, I didn't really know how to bring this up. I figured I should just get straight to the point?" You asked, not wanting to waste his time.

He nodded, looking straight to you.

"I overheard you and Hunter talking last rotation..." You nervously picked at a nail. He still stared, not wavering.

"I can't help that i'm not a clone. I'm not sorry either, but I do want to know what I can do. To gain your trust." You dropped your hand, eager for his response.

He licked his lips, thinking. "I'm sorry you heard that..."

"Echo, I don't care. I just- I want to be a part of this family..." You mustered out. Now or never!

This surprised him, "What are you talking about. You already are!"

He seemed, mad? Was he really that disgusted by 'normal' humans?

"I can't help that i'm not a clone!" You regrettably yelled, throwing you arms up.

"That doesn't matter, everyone accepts you anyways!" His words were strained, like he didn't want anyone to know.

"Why don't you?" You whispered.

He sighed and took a step back. "When I first joined force 99, it wasn't as easy."

You couldn't imagine what he was referring to. You knew he was a regular clone before joining Hunter, but what did that have to do with anything?

After seeing your confused look, he continued. "I wasn't born a defective clone, I became one. It took a lot of time to understand how to use this. But you fit in so easily." He gestured to his mechanical arm.

"I had no idea you felt that way... I wasn't trying to mean anything-" He cut you off.

"I know, and really, we do need a medic. I was just being resentful, I'm sorry."

"I'm not trying to take anyone's place. The team wouldn't be the same without you. Besides, Omega adores you, and I think Hunter will do whatever it takes to keep her happy." You laughed, he luckily gave out a chuckle as well.

"Thanks. I think It'll just take some time to get used to the difference." He said, honestly.

"I get that, just let me know if there's anything I can do... Ya know, to speed things up?" You smiled up at him. It was then that you knew everything would be fine. That you really had found your family, and nothing could take you from them.

A/N- Thank you so much for reading! I am sorry if this isn't what you had in mind! Feel free to send in another request if you would like a more specific plot! Again, sorry that my platonic writing skills aren't that sharp! Tags- (lmk if you want to be tagged as well!) @thethreeeyed-raven @knight-of-flowerss

[pinejayy]

╰┈➤ Scarlet Witch S/O || Demon Slayer Headcanons

Including: hantengu clones and zohakuten // for zohakuten is only platonically 

requested by @phoenix-supremecy

summary: clones reacting to their s/o having powers like scarlet witch, and to the clones reacting to reader ripping off sekido’s jaw/lips off for yelling at them.

warnings: blood, reader ripping sekido’s jaw off, some nsfw implied (on karaku’s part) cuss words,

Sekido

Now the red eyed demon is quite impressed with your powers! He’s so amazed on how a human can hold these great powers, and he admires how strong you are. But you’ll never be as strong as him and he let’s you know by his harsh words.

His harsh words are the reason of your guy’s argument. You don’t understand why he’s always talking down on you and that he’s always reminding you that he’s better than you. 

One day you were in a bad mood, and you were just relaxing with the other clones and that’s when he came in and started to yell at you and only you. “Why in the Hell are you just sitting around! Get the fuck up, we need to train! If you want to improve on your skills you need to train!” 

And you just sat there, narrowing your eyes at him. The other clones looked at you expecting you to listen to him, but everyone was shocked when they heard flesh ripping away from the body and bones popping out of place. And that’s when you were holding Sekido’s jaw in your hand. Blood was pouring all over his clothing, and all you could hear was him choking on his blood. 

Aw, you want this back?” You asked him, to which he just nodded and you smirked. “Well if I give this back to you, you have to get off my back.” And he just shook your head which made you shake your head and turn around, and as you were about to turn around you heard him choke on his blood even more.

Looking at him. “Aw, I take that as a yes then.” You say and throw him his jaw at his face and walk away with a huge smile on his face. The other clones are probably laughing at him.

Karaku

Now the green eyed demon is probably turned on by your powers! He loves how powerful you are and honestly with this power you have he thinks your sexy/handsome, and he loves it whenever you use your powers in the bedroom, it makes things more excited.

So you and your green eyed demon love fool around a lot in the bedroom which pisses off sekido alot! Maybe it’s because of the loud moans or noises you guys make, or maybe the fact he doesn’t have someone who can please him. So Sekido is always yelling you and at Karaku.

Today you and Karaku were in a separate room, you on his lap. Both of you sharing a deep and passionate kiss and that’s when Sekido came in yelling at both of you. “Are you guy’s seriously at it again! Y/N shouldn’t you be training so you can improve on your powers! And yet here you are being a whore with your boyfriend.

And that’s when you slowly started to turn your head towards him, your head snapping to the side. You stare at Sekido’s eyes. His red eyes piercing into yours. And that’s when the room was filling with the scent of blood, and fleshing ripping away from the body. 

And right there you were holding onto a chunk of Sekido’s mouth on the palm of your hand. You just smile at him. “You want this back huh?”  And you could hear was him choking on his own blood. Karaku couldn’t help but laugh out loud. 

And you stood up. “Okay then, go get it boy!” You say, and throw his ripped mouth/lips out of the room. “Go fetch!” And with that he ran out of the room. And look at Karaku. “God that was so hot babe.” He told you.

Aizetsu

Now the gentle Demon is so kind towards you, he’s so amazed by your powers. And he’s so happy that you belong with him, and he’s always willing to help you improve on your powers because he believes that some day you can surpass him and the other clones. 

Aizetsu is quite clingy with you, he loves you with all his heart. He wants to protect you but he knows that you can handle yourself with your powers. But that doesn’t mean he’ll stop protecting you. With that being said, Sekido hates the fact that you have powers and he hates that maybe one day you’ll be more powerful than him,

So you and Sekido are always fighting and yelling at each other, which makes the blue eyed demon very sad, and it breaks his heart seeing two people he’s close with fight all the time. “Please don’t fight guys, it’s making me very sad.” 

And Sekido couldn’t help but snap at him, slapping him across the face and hissing at his comment. “Shut the hell up, I don’t care if it makes you sad. You’re an Upper Moon! Grow a pair of ba-” 

You didn’t give him an opportunity to finish his sentence, since he was choking on his own blood. You ripping off his throat with your powers. And he tried getting back his bloody throat which you backed away. “If you ever touch him again, I’ll rip something else off next time. Now get out of my sight.” You say throwing his throat at his face.

You smile and turn back to your boyfriend, he was so shocked as no one ever stood up for him like that. He looked at you with so much love! “Wow you did that for me my love?” 

Urogi

Now this chicken nugget is so happy that he found someone who isn’t just a normal weak human! He found you with these beautiful powers! And he’s so impressed with your skills, and with your powers he doesn’t have to treat you like glass, he can roughhouse with you.

Both of you guys love messing around and love playing around the woods, you guys could be playing tag and with your powers and his wings its a very fun game of tag. But with you guys playing around it makes Sekido very upset. 

Sekido thinks you shouldn’t be wasting your powers on stupid childish games, he believes that you should be working on your powers and be thinking about improving on yourself!

“Come on Y/N! Stop with these stupid games! You need to improve on your powers if you want to be useful to us!” He said snapping at you! “Stop playing with Chicken Fingers!” 

You watched him as he talked down on you and Urogi and you smiled at him, and your left eye twitched soft. And the area was filled with bones snapping and cracking. Sekido stood there with a dislocated jaw, he couldn’t speak. Urogi looked at you, his eyes wide open. He was shocked and he laughed nervously. 

Before Sekido could jump you Urogi grabbed you and carried you and flew off and away from the demon. He couldn’t help but laugh nervously “Remind me not to piss you off my dear!”

Zohakuten (PLATONICALLY )

Now he looked at you as parent figure and he does care for you. And with your powers he’s wants to protect you no matter what. You’re the only good thing in his life. The other Clones piss him off to the extreme and he hates it. So yeah!! Please protect him and he’ll protect you. 

Now he likes the idea of you improving your powers because he wouldn't have to worry about you getting hurt, he knows your strong and can take care of yourself but still, he worries about you.

As he dislikes the other clones he mostly gets in fights with Sekido. How great right? Two angry red eye demons fighting. So you were enjoying some time with Zohakuten and the other clones. And you don’t know what happened but both Sekido and Zohakuten were yelling at each other. And you didn’t like the idea of Sekdio yelling at him, it made you feel uneasy. 

And you could tell Zohakuten was getting angrier by the second and you knew you had to step in, since the other clones weren’t doing anything but just watching. So you did the best option, you ripped off Sekido’s tongue off with your powers, he was choking on his blood. The bloody tongue was on the floor and you spoke up. “Don’t you yell at him, you’re lucky that was only your tonuge.” 

The clones were shocked, but Zohakuten looked at Sekido’s struggling as he choked on his own blood. Zohakuten couldn’t help but laugh out loud. A deep laugh filled the room. It made your blood run cold. And the other clones went pale, as his laugh was uneasy. 

Zohakuten grabbed your wrist “Come on Y/N, let’s go. Let this fool choke on his blood.” 

[inkstainedhandswithrings]

gaaaaaahh okay, I just finished rewatching the citadel arc and I have SO MANY FEELINGS?????

like, the amount of clones that died in that arc is like super high??? and like watch it okay, because EVRYTIME a clone dies, either Rex or Cody or Fives or another clone there will look to the fallen brother only for one of the Jedi to go "We must keep going." in their ominous Jedi voice and then the clones faces fall. And no, it didn't only happen with Echo (which is a whole rant in and off itself), it happend every. single. time.

by the end of it two clones fall off a wall, and as they walk past the bodies the Jedi don't even acknowledge them while Rex looks at them and doesn't even attempt to stop anymore because well, dead anyway, right?

and don't even get me started on HOW DEFEATED Fives sounds after Echos death, like he doesn't even have faith anymore that they'll get outta there alive. FIVES. MR. SUNSHINE AND OPTIMISM. MR. BLAST MY WAY OUTTA ANYTHING NO PROBLEM. (cute moment between him and rex though, when rex helps him up after an explosion, I like to think he did it also as a show of emotional support, but sTILL)

and THEN Piell dies and everybody is like "funeral time, we need to take a minute and honour him even though it could cost us the entire mission and our lives" and I'm??????? WHY???? you had to leave all the clones without ONE WORD of acknowledgement and Piell gets a whole funeral just because he's a Jedi? and like, I love Obi-Wan, okay, but he gives this little funeral speech and honours him and all that, but he doesn't even verbally mention the clones sacrifice, even though the clones ARE RIGHT THERE WITH THEM.

like how's that gotta feel for Fives, who just lost his last batch mate and the only thing that was said after his cry out for his brother was "We gotta go!" like, way to make them all feel like second-class citizens

and like, later on Plo does refer to the remaining team as "survivors", which does acknowledge that many lives were lost, which is very in character and I love that, but honestly, it's still like a bandaid on a bandage level wound, yanno? anyway, this was torture, thanks for the experience.

bonus: when tarkin and anakin shake hands in the end of the episode you hear like ONE BEAT of the Imperial March and it chilled me to the bone (a sticker for Obi for saying he doesn't like Tarkin immediately after he left)

bonus bonus: 2/3 of this arc is Anakin bonding with the guy who later tries to slap ahsoka with the death sentence even though she rescued him like three times and I just think that's real cringe bro

[arc-misadventures]

In. The krptonian au have they runninto a bixxarro Jaune

A Civilized Discussion

Jaune: So, you enjoying your drink?

: I despise this drink.

Jaune: Want more?

: No, thanks

Jaune: Cookies?

: No, thank you.

Jaune: So, meet any pretty girls lately?

: No.

Jaune: Oh really now? Is she… A blonde?

: Yes.

Jaune: A brunette then?

: Yes.

Jaune: Is she a redhead?

: No.

Jaune: Ohh! Redheads, gotta love redheads!

: I hate redheads.

Jaune: Is she a faunas?

: No, she’s a human.

Jaune: Oh, good. Then she isn’t my redhead. What kind of faunas is she?

: She’s a dog faunas.

Jaune: A cat faunas?

: No.

Jaune: Does she have ears, or a tail?

: She has a tail.

Jaune: A redhead cat faunas with cat ears. That sounds nice. She must be a pretty lady, isn’t she?

: She look’s absolutely disgusting.

Jaune: You gonna ask her out, or is she already taken?

: She’s taken, so I’m not going to ask her out.

Jaune: Well, good luck to you pal. If she can get past the speech barrier, you should be fine. Relatively speaking. It is asking a girl out on a date after all, fighting, Grimm sounds easier then asking that girl out.

: What about you; any boys catch your eye?

Jaune: One, or two. Whether anything will come out of it though… I don’t know… Like I said, killing, Grimm is easier then asking a girl out, at least you can kill, Grimm.

: You can’t do it buddy. You just need to be a coward, and reject her advances. Who would want to go on a date with a ugly bastard like you?

Jaune: I know you don’t mean it like that, but come on, did you have to call me a bastard?

: No.

Jaune: Ha! You jerk.

: Intellectual.

Jaune: Okay, what would that one mean?

Ruby: Hey, Jaune how’s it… Uhh…? What…?

Yang: Do you have a twin?

Weiss: Is he? Most twins look identical, they don’t.

Jaune: Hey, guys this is, Zaune. And, he isn’t my twin. He’s more of a… clone?

Blake: A clone?

Zaune: The good twin.

Jaune: I wouldn’t call yourself bad, you’re a bit of a goody two shoes really.

Zaune: Yes I am!

Jaune: Anyway, Zaune, meet my friends, This is, Ruby Rose…

Ruby: Hello!

Zaune: Hello.

Jaune: Weiss Schnee.

Weiss: It’s a pleasure to meet you.

Zaune: I don’t think so.

Weiss: I, what?

Jaune: Blake Belladonna.

Zaune: He’s a human, yes?

Blake: He?

Jaune: Yes she is. And, lastly, Yang Xiao Long.

Yang: Hey there big fella!

Zaune: She’s really ugly.

Yang: E-Excuse me?

Jaune: I think she is too.

Yang: Excuse me?!

Jaune: Something wrong, Yang?

Yang: Hell yeah there is; you two just called me ugly you assholes!

Zaune: Yes, you are ugly.

Yang: Oh that is it!

Jaune: Waitwaitwaitwaitwait! Zaune didn’t mean that!

Zaune: Yes I did.

Yang: He just said it again!

Jaune: No he didn’t! Zaune speaks in opposites. When he said you’re ugly, what he meant is that you’re pretty.

Yang: Wait, you think I’m pretty.

Zaune: No, I think you are really ugly.

Yang: Oh… T-Thank you…

Weiss: Oh, so that was a pleased to me you too, wasn’t it?

Zaune: No.

Ruby: Was my hello, a hello, or was it…?

Jaune: Best not to think about it.

Ruby: Okay…

Blake: Wait! When you said, ‘He’s a human.’ You meant, ‘She’s a faunas,’ right?

Jaune: Yes.

Zaune: No.

Blake: How did you know that?

Jaune: X-Ray vision. We share similar powers, that is just one of them.

Blake: But, didn’t you say you could only see bones, not under my ribbon?

Jaune: I lied, I can see a lot of things.

Blake: That means you have peaked on us, you degenerate!

(Whack!)

Blake: AHHHHHH?! Why do I keep on thinking that will work?!

Jaune: Because you’re too busy trying to get me to notice that you’re wearing a thong. And, I didn’t, nor would peak to know that. I have seven sisters, so I know that those tights of yours would leave an impression from wearing underwear. Then again you could be going commando for all I know. But, I honestly don’t wanna know that.

Zaune: I would peak.

Blake: You would!

Jaune: Opposites! He speaks in opposites you degenerate!

Blake: Oh, yeah…

Jaune: Why must you be like this?

Yang: Do you seriously want an answer to that.

Jaune: It was a rhetorical question, Yang.

Ruby: Okay… So, Zaune? You interested in a game of, World of Remnant? We were about to play a round, but you can take, Weiss’s place. She sucks at this game.

Weiss: Hey?!

Zaune: I would hate…?!

: Oh Zaune~?

Zaune: …

Zaune: Oh joy…

Jaune: Uh oh indeed…

Ruby: Is that, Nora?

Jaune: You better run boy, least, Nora catches you.

Zaune: I think I will stay. Nice meeting you everyone!

Ruby: Uhh… Bye, Zaune?

Nora: Zaune! Zaune come back here, and play with me!

Zaune: Yessssssss!

Ruby: Well, he seems like a nice person.

Yang: So, Jaune, what was that about me being pretty~?

Jaune: …

Jaune: Uh oh…

///

I haven’t forgotten about this AU, it was just I couldn’t come up with anything good to write.

Do enjoy~!

[shadowofthelamp]

Creation

Summary: Bill decides he wants a kid with Ford, and when someone's given themselves to you entirely, you can do a lot with that.

Beatrice creation story! Rated T basically for a cut to black at the end/a brief non-descriptive use of magic making him feel good, but nothing explicit is shown and the kid is created by magic. Set in the 'muse' era shortly before everything spirals.

Warning: Mpreg

Wordcount: 1200

“So, smart guy!” Bill had been grinning. It was in the way the corners of his eyes pinched up, how his pulsing glow on each word was brighter. “You want to help me with something, don’t you?”

“Of course!” Ford floated easily towards him, gravity a mere suggestion that could be brushed aside here in the place where dreams become reality and reality twisted to the wildest fancies of the imagination. "Why wouldn't I? It has to be more interesting than watching the gnomes trying to capture bath squirrels again. The forest is starting to really settle down for winter."

“See, this is why I like you, Fordsie, always asking just the right questions!” Bill lightly tapped a finger on Ford’s nose, and a rush of lava spiraled down his nerves at the touch. “Now, you promised your body to me, and I’ve been using it plenty well- keeping you up and running past those silly human limits so we can get the really important work done, fixing the little stresses here and there, things like that. There’s something I’ve been wanting for eons, but no one else was good enough- not until you.”

“Bill, I-” Even without the limitations of the human body present in the projection, instinctively Ford found himself swallowing at the compliment. “Thank you. I’ll do my best to live up to whatever it is. So! What do you need? Does it have anything to do with the portal?”

“You’re the human vessel to help carry my- our genius to the masses, you already knew that, but I’ve got even bigger plans for this hunk of rock.” Bill snapped his fingers with another ‘smile’ (perhaps sharper than usual, eye a bit more narrowed?) and a deal-flame burned bright blue-

-Before he plunged it directly into Ford’s stomach.

The red-hot pain that ignited every soft organ below the lungs was almost enough to throw Ford back into the waking world, but Bill’s fingers merely curled inside of him as he whistled, rummaging around until a new pain of something swelling, growing, mixed with a wave of pleasure to counter the agony currently cauterizing his organs. Wave after wave of mixed sensations radiated out from the intrusion as a noise even he couldn't define slipped from his lips, and he clawed at the air with moans muffled into the infinity of the Mindscape.

“There we go, figured I might as well toss you a bone for dealing with this! Woo, this is going to be a lot to handle for an oily sweat beast meat-sack like you, but you’re a good human, you’ll manage.”

“Wh- what is?” Ford managed to stutter as Bill pulled his hand out, thick red with sparks of starlight dripping from the sleek black fingers all the way up to the elbow. Nothing existed in his mind but questions, even as the pain sucked into itself like a black hole and disappeared. “What did you do to- what did you put in there?”

“Why, our child, of course!”

There was a moment’s silence as Ford processed that before an actual record scratch sounded somewhere in the Mindscape, which just made Bill slap his knee and cackle.

“Oh, oh that is perfect timing. Your brain is a riot, Sixer, you know that?”

“Our child…?” Ford’s eyes had widened to the point that the lids had nearly receded into the skull, and one hand instinctively dropped to the still-oozing stomach, droplets of flickering silver mixing with deep maroon. “That can’t be-”

“Exactamundo, our child! Offspring, half-clone, spawn, whatever you want to call it!” Bill summoned his cane specifically to spin it and jab the end into Ford’s chest. “I’ve told you my whole tragic backstory-” (Ford’s eyes instinctively darted up to the hat and he felt a pang unrelated to the whole hand-shoving-through-guts thing) “-But I figured it was time to move on fully, starting a family of my own. And you’re the lucky candidate that I’d like to spend the rest of your life with! You’re smart, you’re a freak, you’ve already given me complete control over your body, and I wouldn’t mind a little rugrat running around with your cute little face on the part of the time they don’t look like me!”

“The part of the-” Ford shook his head to himself. That was not the thing to focus on, and his fingers curled around the stomach of his sweater tight enough that the threads unwound in the non-air. “Bill, I don’t have the- the- equipment for this!”

“And I’m a triangle, but do you really think I can’t make a few adjustments on that little problem? You wound me! Seahorses do it, it’s just a design flaw that humans can’t, really!” Bill rested his palm atop Ford’s knuckles. “I just needed to scoop out a little extra space- you don’t need all of those organs, so I just combined a few. They should work just as well!” He waved his free hand. “Besides, you said you wanted to do something for me. I’ve barely asked you for anything, and this is an honor!”

“Bill, I-” Ford’s free hand raised to tangle in his hair as the dream deity pressed up against his middle as if listening for a heartbeat already. “It’s not that I’m not flattered-”

“Then what is it, brainiac?” Bill tilted upward. “We’re already changing the world, and you’ve already pledged your life to me. We can be happy together. What’s one more string sewing us together? I picked you for a reason.”

He floated up, gripping a cheek in each hand as his single eye met both of Ford’s, sticky silver and ruby blood mixing together and oozing down the skin. “I already told you, I can’t imagine anyone else I’d want to do this with, and isn’t this what humans are meant to do, squirt out squirmy little genetic reproductions of themselves? Let’s face it, you’re never going to meet a girl, and this way you’ll change the world with the portal and by carrying the first new member of my species in a trillion years!”

His thumb stroked the skin as he tilted slightly, as if turning his head. “You’re the only one I’d want this with. Don’t you trust me, Fordsy?”

It may have been the leftover heat of the deal-fire from whatever Bill had done before, but Ford found his cheeks burning as his mouth fell open slightly, a puff of breath escaping.

“...Yes.” The truth of the admission came from deep within, even as doubts squirmed like pinned insects. “I- I have given myself body and soul, you know that.”

“Good boy.” Bill’s bloody fingers shifted, one thumb sliding between Ford’s wet lips, and Ford instinctively sucked, getting a pat with the other hand as liquid stardust slipped down his throat, igniting his stomach with a far more pleasurable flame that shot further south. “Now then! This is the fun part!”

Ford was about to ask, but Bill’s other hand had slipped beneath the neckline of his sweater at the same time his form began to crack along the bricks to spill free something ancient and starving, and there very quickly ceased to be any possible questions.

[jacksprostate]

It happens in Paper Street. Tyler is still gone. The building is oozing with monkeys, but on the upper floors where Tyler and I sleep, I am alone.

I am not alone.

There is two of me. I don't have a twin.

If there's two of me, then there might be two of Tyler.

Tyler would probably think killing myself to monopolize him and his clone is a step closer to bottom.

If there's not two Tylers, I have to kill him anyway.

All of this becomes clear to me in the time it takes for my clone to stare at me and shake his head and get his shit together.

I play it cool. I am so ZEN, he will not realize when I reach over to crush his windpipe.

I say, hey. This is weird.

"Yeah," he says, and my voice is way too loud coming from him. I don't like it. He needs to shut the fuck up. "Is Tyler here?"

I ask him, do you think Tyler would know why the universe broke? I ask him like he's asked me if Tyler would like to take a nice little shopping trip through the local designer stores and pay off the companies' tax breaks by giving hundreds to their check out charity.

I think Tyler would know why the universe broke, of course. He'd be the one to break it. Maybe this is another one of Tyler's little tests. This new version of me seems less certain of that fact, more like he's looking for his daddy's coattails, and now I really can't wait to punch his teeth out of his skull. He doesn't have the hole in his cheek, and I can see him watching it wink when I talk. He looks like a jealous rat.

We must both be Joe's Clenching Bowels.

I ask him, do you think we're different? Maybe there's a butterfly effect. Parallel universes. There has to be a reason he's so pathetic.

"I'm sure we are," he says, like he's telling his boss about sawing cross tips into bullets. Touching.

How'd you meet Tyler?

"On the plane. He gave me his number. Called him after my condo blew up."

I smile. I met him on a nude beach. He gave me his number. I called him after my condo blew up. Every word after nude turns my copy's face a bit ruddy, little tectonic nudges to the ring of fire.

"What were you doing on a nude beach?" he spits. "Gargling your boss's balls?"

Watching Tyler. Naked and sweaty, muscles flexing as he pulled around driftwood and pilings to sit in his own hand of perfection. I know I sound like a priest that wants to keep God for himself. I am.

"You're a fag," he says.

I think of my birthmark on my foot. I think of Tyler. I think of Marla. I think of how stupid this version of me is, to pretend he wouldn't get on his knees just for the chance of a taste of Tyler. Is that not how he got the kiss I can see on his hand? His Tyler must have had to lower his standards.

Best not to accuse others of things you're guilty of, I say. I'm willing to face any number of uncomfortable truths if it will get rid of him, I realize.

He's flustered. "No, no, it's not —" he waves his hands. "It's not like that with me and him. No."

Yes it is. It's not love as in caring, sure.

I step closer.

It's property as in ownership.

This must be why Tyler likes it. I see myself wither like a guy kicked in the balls on the first night he attends fight club.

I could be over that table every night for Tyler, I say. You would just be jealous. Just like you're jealous of Marla. Of that one pretty kid you probably pummeled into the ground too. Or did you not even have the balls for that?

Eliminate the competition. Face the truth only to drive it deeper into this jammed copy of myself. Win Tyler's affections. I have already seen the bones in my yard, I can tell, he has not.

One of us is committed. I pull my human sacrifices out of my pocket, throw them at him. One of us wants this. I get in his stupid face.

It's not you.

He swings at me, I'm fighting to the death.

"Tyler isn't here, is he?" he taunts me.

"Tyler left you."

"He doesn't want you anymore."

All things true, but maybe not once I kill you.

I am the abandoned dog, performing tricks so its owner will come home. I am myself, calling my father and telling him about graduating college, like it means fuck all to him. I am myself, pushing onto that next step on his list, anyway. Tyler's my new list, and he wants murder. I've known it. I'll face it.

He gets me in a headlock, hits me over and over, opening up that hole in my cheek. I go limp, drag him down, flip him over myself and grab his throat. I slam his head into the ground. It's soft, moldy wood, not concrete, so I have to start squeezing, instead.

Death will commence in five.

Five, four.

He's gasping, slamming his palm into my nose, breaking it over and over.

Four, three.

Three, two.

His body is shaking under mine. Seizing. He has the primordial strength of a man about to die, and I have the primordial strength of a man about to live.

Death will commence in two.

His eyes are rolling back. I can feel his throat giving in.

No more chance for breaths. It crumbles beneath my hands like the ribcage of a hummingbird.

No chances for evacuation.

Death commences.

Now.

On the upper floors of Paper Street, I am alone.

[evilminji]

You know all those Cults in Gotham?

Bet at least ONE of them could spring for both a Legit Magic User and a Cloning pod.

Because The Wayne's? Hearts of Gold. Long standing pains in the asses. Probably the only thing standing between this gods forsaken wasteland of a city and Their Dark Lord. For GENERATIONS no less!

It's sooooo obnoxious!

So they want to Curse Um dead. Just a good ol fashioned bloodline curse. Destroy um from within, etc. BUT! To do THAT? You kinda need a blood relative to sacrifice!

And Bruce is... well... rather infamously An Orphan With No Biological Kids (at that point).

So? What do you do? Make one, obviously. You send in some of your own on a Holy Mission. Honeypot that playboy! Get us a kid to sacrifice! Our God will reward you etc! But... FFS! What? Are brunettes not your TYPE or something?! Pretty lady! Throwing herself at you!!

TAKE THE BAIT!

But he DOESN'T. Because he's both really used to that behavior, as The Wayne Heir and a False Playboy, AND because? He's fuckin Batman. He can see through your schemes.

Okay.

Okay!

Plan B!

Get us some DNA. We'll CLONE the sucker. That should be doable, right?

........OH COME ON! How?!

Batman: [REDACTED] / Cultists: 0

Fuck it! This is impossible! How are we supposed too... *eyes drift over to the Wayne Family Private Graveyard* .......Idea? Ideeeeaaaa~! Someone get us a shovel!

So they, cultist bastards that they are? Fuckin rob a grave for some DNA.

OBVIOUSLY though, it can't be one of the more RECENT graves! He probably VISITS those! Watches them! No we gotta be SNEAKY! Get one a bit further back! Mwahahahaha! We're so brilliant! Our God is gonna give us SUCH a Good Grade in follower!

A thing that is both REAL and possible to achieve!

So, while a Weirdly FURIOUS Batman? Is just... VIOLENTLY breaking ALL of their bones? Cultist 17 is furiously digging like his life depends on it. Either somebody snitched or Batman was hunting them down! Either way?

Gotta! Get! That! DNA!!! *digs faster*

Ah HA! Got it!

Fucking SCATTER! Run you fools, RUN!!! *everyone bolts*

And AT LAST! They have it! Wayne DNA! Now? Pop that sucker into the machine and make us a baby! Too sacrifice! *relieved noises* Man, that was hard work you guys. But we DID it!

Except??

Theoretical Babies? And "Real, slowly forming in front of me and becoming a human child" type babies? VERY DIFFERENT psychologically. It's ONE thing to sacrifice a HYPOTHETICAL baby... but when you're the guy running and monitoring the Cloning machine? Watching it slowly form and come together into... into a CHILD?

You start asking questions of yourself. Of God.

Of what, EXACTLY, you are willing to do.

What lines you find yourself unwilling to cross.

And yeah, your life was SHIT before the cult. Yeah, you were alone. Adrift. Without purpose. Angry at the world for all of its ugliness and failings. But... sitting, alone, in a dark room? Nothing but the steady hum of machines and the cool light of that pod? You are left with nothing but time... and your thoughts.

And the baby.

The one... the one YOU made.

Almost... he's almost like a son, in a way. Your son. Floating there, innocent and unknowing. Destined to be born, only to die painfully, for a cause he could not even begin to understand. Because he's too young. Too small. Just... just a baby.

The baby YOU made.

Doubt seeps in like mist. Creeping into the cracks forming in your faith. Surely there's another way, right? Why not save up for a better magician? Or... or hire a hitman? Why involve a child? Surely... surely your God would not WANT this, right? Or if He did! Surely, he would want the boy to be able to CHOOSE, right? A noble sacrifice, for the cause?

The pressure builds. Batman is tearing the city APART looking for your fellow Believers. Leadership is pressuring you to get "It" ready all ready.

He's not an "it".

They are dismissing your questions. Threatening and posturing, as you grapple with your faith. Where? Where is the COMMUNITY that you joined? The camaraderie? Every day, Believers are being torn down. The faith has lost so many!

How can this be WORTH it?

Your faith is slowly, cruelly, strangled in your chest. A death, by ten thousand silences, and ten thousand more cruelties.

Your son is ready.

You do not tell them.

The Clone of Bruce Wayne's great-grandfather is small, but healthy, in your arms. A tiny warm body, with a strong beating little heart. You call the police. Leave your phone, call running, on the desk. No one thinks to stop you, as you calmly walk out the back door.

Why would they doubt?

You are Faithful.

You drive. Pray to a God you have lost faith in, beg forgiveness for what you do now. Your beat up old junker of a car makes decent time, as you leave Gotham. Your son, asleep in a carefully made nest of blankets, on the seat next to you. You drive. You keep driving.

Past towns.

Past cities.

Out of the state.

Stopping only to feed your son and fuel your car. You... you can not bring yourself to care about what will happen to you now. You know they will find you. Know this is the end. But something ancient burns in your chest. A caring you never thought was REAL.

You are afraid.

But you will not let them harm your son.

Finally, a town. Far from Gotham. Quite and cheerful. It calls to you.

Here. It... it has to be here.

You find the hospital. Tears choking you. There is a place to drop of children. You've seen them before. How strange, that now you stand before it and HURT. Your arms not listening to your command. You... you have to do this. You HAVE too.

He is just a baby.

He is your son.

You have to keep him safe. And... and that can not be with you.

You gently put your baby boy into the drop off. Press the buzzer. And then? You make yourself walk away.

Get back in your car, and drive. The gun in your glove box will insure they can never pry from you, what you have done. Where he is. He is safe now. He has to be. You... you did your job. As his father. You made sure he was safe.

You can barely see the road, through your tears.

You take your secrets to the grave.

And Danny? He grows up. Is adopted young and never knows different. Both a Fenton and a Wayne. Knowing only one of these, to be his. But... that Wayne? Was a damn fine man. A pillar of his community and a champion of the people.

Got tossed more then a few blessings, in his life.

They weren't the STRONGEST. But they added up. And more importantly? Were hardly the refined magics of the more powerful. They were cast onto "Him". By blood and bone, more often then not. Which was all well and good!

When there was only ONE of "Him".

Cloning technology did not exsist. So why would you word carefully against it? Danny becomes a VERY lucky boy. Survives many things he should not. In fact, the kindness and hard work of his original? Gifted back in magically powered well wishes? By this, he survives something NO ONE could possibly expect him too.

It saves his life.

His template would be quite pleased, knowing that. That his life of good deeds, saved the life of the child he never got a chance to meet. That it protected his children, from even beyond death.

And in Gotham? At long, long last. The program Bruce made in his helplessness and despair, to search EVERY child until the child made of his bloodline was found? Spits out a match.

A Watchtower engineer.

Daniel J. Fenton.

@hdgnj @hypewinter @lolottes @babbling-babull @nerdpoe @mutable-manifestation

[leoncillo]

Oh me oh my. I wrote again. What has come over me lately? Tsk tsk

Anyway, reader has chronic pain (namely fibromyalgia and MS), the clone brothers risk it all to help them. I think this one is gender neutral as well? I didn't edit this one either so I might've slipped up and used "she" somewhere. Will probably put this on AO3 too. Reader is Black.

The Hantengu Clones brave the sun to take care of reader

Your eyes slowly cracked open one morning. The light from the sun being extra harsh to you and your aching head. Your throat was bone dry, your body heavy, and you felt pain on every inch of your body. Quickly as you could, you checked the bedside table for your daily meds only to realize you forgot to pick up the refills from the pharmacy.

"Oh... I'm so doomed" you groaned.

You climbed out of bed before the room started spinning and you stumbled a bit, your blood pressure not getting the memo that you're upright. Noticing your boyfriends weren't with you, you decided to find them and try to start your day the best you could.

Sekido, Karaku, Urogi, Aizetsu, and even little Zohakuten were standing around in the kitchen bantering about breakfast that Sekido made before they all turned to your slumped form leaving your room. The men grew completely silent as they watched you walk with a limp to the refrigerator. Your eyes were glossy, but vacant like you were moving on auto pilot. You hair was a mess and if they looked closely they could see you breathing heavily. You wordlessly opened the fridge to grab the carton of orange juice just for it to fall straight out of your hand like butter. It seemed like an eternity had passed before you noticed and looked down at your hand to find you had little feeling in it.

"Y/N, are you okay?" asked Karaku as he stepped towards you, placing a hand on your shoulder.

You flinched like you just noticed his presence before you started to cry and eventually wail.

"What did you do, asshole?!" shouted Sekido, as he punched Karaku in the chest.

"Y/N, what's wrong? Maybe we can fix it. Don't cry. I get sad when you cry" said Aizetsu, who hovered near you unsure if he could touch you.

You opened your mouth to speak, but everything started spinning again and you felt yourself falling before everything went black.

A few minutes later you found yourself waking up on the couch with five pairs of eyes watching over you.

"Y/N, can you hear me?!" Urogi shouted and you flinched at the noise.

"Not so loud. You're upsetting them. I hate when they're upset" said Zohakuten.

"Ugh I'm up, I'm up" you said in a non convincing voice.

"Why did you faint on us? Don't tell me you've caught a cold! Irresponsible ass humans" said Sekido.

You looked down at your lap, anxiously grabbing the blanket and biting your lower lip. "So there's something I never told you guys about me. You see I have several chronic illnesses and they're all incurable. Some days are better than others and some days are really really bad."

"What illnesses do you have?" said Urogi, leaning in closer in curiosity.

"Well the main ones are fibromyalgia and multiple sclerosis" you said, only to look up at them all with their heads tilted in confusion like puppies.

"Fibromyalgia causes me to hurt all over my body. Especially 18 main points like my shoulders. Even this blanket and my clothes kinda hurt. It usually flares up after I do too much in a day."

"Ooh that explains why you started crying. Sorry Y/N!" said Karaku, who went to rub your shoulder before catching himself. "Maybe that's not the best idea right now."

"Okay and what's the muscle cytosis thing?" asked Urogi.

"It's called multiple sclerosis, you dunce!"

"So you guys know about the immune system and everything, right? It's supposed to fight off illnesses and keep the body healthy, but sometimes it gets confused and fights the body instead. With MS, my immune system attacks my brain and spinal cord. Sometimes parts of my body goes numb or burns, like my feet, or my eyesight blurs, if not, goes out altogether. Among other things. That illness will get worse over time, too."

"Why didn't you tell us about something so important? It makes me sad when you hide stuff from us" said Aizetsu, tearing up.

You looked away from them back to your lap. "I'm not used to people sticking around after they know my situation and limitations. And that's just with humans! You guys are like ten humans each. I didn't want y'all to think I was a burden and leave because I can't keep up. Usually I have medicine to help me feel a little better or at least ignore some of it, but I was so busy I forgot to pick up my refills. I can't really move too far like this so I'm kinda screwed."

Zohakuten rushed to you in haste and palmed your face, squishing your cheeks together. "What do you need us to do? How can we help?"

"Well heat 'akes 'ith worse so keepin' me coo', but I nedth my med'cine the most. And a good hea'thy dwink" you said.

You all turned and glanced at the window and the rays of sunshine being blocked out. "I'll go first thing at sunset" said Zohakuten, as he released your cheeks and went to make a list of things to buy.

"He's such a good boy" you said, proudly.

"Let me help! I'm good too!" shouted Urogi.

"We'll all split up and get something from the list. We'll get back faster that way." said Sekido.

They all helped you back to bed and tried to make you as comfortable as possible. It wasn't enough and they all stood on edge as they heard you tossing and thrashing in the other room. The pain driving you up the wall like you were being torn apart limb from limb.

"Oh no!" said Aizetsu, staring at his phone. "It says the pharmacy will close before sunset. It's not like the convenience store will have these kinds of drugs."

"Maybe I can fly really fast and stick to the shadows to-"

"To turn into fried chicken?" said Karaku with a huff.

"I could have my dragons go get it."

"And tear up the whole roadway?" asked Aizetsu.

They all grew quiet in defeat before realizing Sekido was mysteriously silent.

"I might have a solution," he began and pulled out a box from his kimono sleeve.

"Douma recommended these patches of wisteria and spider lily flower. Supposedly, they'll let us go into the daylight without turning to ashes immediately."

"That's great! Y/N will feel better in no time!" said Urogi.

"What's the catch?" said Karaku and Zohakuten in unison.

"The patch does have the wisteria component so our powers, speed, and regeneration will be slowed greatly. We'll be out there longer than we would if it were night and while we won't turn to ash, we'll still feel the pain of burning."

They all fell silent again before they jumped at the sound of a loud crying and sobbing coming from your room.

Before they knew it, they were each putting on a patch and preparing to get whatever you needed.

At some point, you were so tired from the pain that you fell asleep only to jolt awake at the overwhelming smell of burning entering your nostrils.

Springing up out of bed thinking something caught fire, an actual common occurrence in the house, you ran to the kitchen as best you could only to see a pile of smoking bodies twitching and breathing heavily.

Without saying anything, they each sat up, still regenerating, and held out a bag to you. Urogi had your medicine, but was nursing a severely burnt wing and talon. Sekido had tubs of ice cream in one arm, while the other was burned away. Aizetsu had a bouquet of flowers and a severe burn along his torso and back. Karaku had a bunch of differently flavored hydrating sports drinks, but one of his horns, arms, and some of his hair was singed. Lastly, Zohakuten beat a drum and a small dragon held out a bear plushie that was wrapped in bandages that said "Get well soon" while the boy nursed his burned face and burns on his legs and most of his drums.

You lips trembled before you fell to your knees and burst in tears, lunging to wrap your arms around as many of them as you could.

"Did we mess up? A-Are these not your favorite flowers?" asked Aizetsu.

"Do you hate the bear? It's the one I hated the least" asked Zohakuten.

"If you don't like any of these flavors, I don't care. We don't waste food in this house" said Sekido.

"I know you don't like blue flavor, but I wanted to get one of each. I suggest the green one first" said Karaku with a wink and a wince.

"And I have the most important thing! The medicine!" said Urogi, puffing his chest out in pride as whatever feathers he had left turned fluffy and excited.

"Thank you!" you said hugging them tighter and crying harder.

"OWW!"

[somethingtizz]

Wandy Lore!

(Incase I never fully explained. This is going to contain a lot of lore and some of it may be a ramble I'm sorry in advance. But if you'd like to know more about this lil creature, then please do read):

So basically, after another unsuccessful day of invading due to Wander and Sylvia getting in the way, Hater goes into one of those funk modes again like in The Funk episode but is actually starting to question if he's doing shit wrong and Peepers is also frustrated.

Not much of a Funk but he's getting there and he decides to do a pitch meeting, like in the brainstorm episode and just brainstorm ideas until something sticks and gets both of their mojos back. Hater begins mentioning about wanting folks to see Wander as untrustworthy cause he'd like to laugh at how everyone fucking hates him. And Peepers makes a comment on Destroying his reputation, but the both of them couldn't do it since everyone knew them and the propaganda wouldn't work out in their favour.

And a mention of a clone is brought up by the both of them by Hater in a more "if only he had a twin that we could make evil" and Peeper's talking about a clone.

And that eventually sticks as the both of them start talking about how they can get an exact copy of Wander and Peepers brings up the DNA.

Eventually a few months in and Peepers in his lab is putting the DNA samples into the experiment, using a strang of fur/hair off of Wander that was on Haters cloak cause the bitch is always on him. And (idk what DNA Hater uses, someone said bone marrow at one point, or spit? But uh, let's pretend he doesn't say how he gave DNA) and Peepers adding his DNA in too cause he doesn't want the clone coming out like an idiot.

A couple of months go by and the planets are starting to become more of life again after dominator rain of terror and thankfully no one suspects a thing in the skullship, even the Watchdogs haven't a clue about what's being made. Only Peeper's and Hater know of the clone being made and it's whereabouts on the skullship. The clone grows slowly but eventually reaches to a child form, and Hater being an impatient man throws a fit shouting at Peepers on why the stupid clone is taking FOREVER to make.

Cue a whole fit/tantrum, lightning bolts accidentally strike the test tube and it shatters, thankfully the clone is fine and opens its eyes, just staring whilst the two adults are freaking out. (Still working on the first meetings and stuff) the clone is just silent the whole time, watching the two and blinking, not really doing much even after Peepers suggested about scrapping it and making a new one but mentioned that would be even longer of a wait now that the test tube is broken. Hater gives in and agrees to keeping this one since it technically looks like Wander, just a little shorter and with green eyes, (but they could always just use blue contacts).

The clone is either referred to "it" "wander clone" "thing" "clone" or "that" and is only taught on how to act when out on invasions. I imagine that the clone stays in the lab most of the time and doesn't exactly go out of the room unless needed for an invasion and it's working with the plan of giving Wander a bad reputation. The clone rarely speaks but when it does, it's usually if it's hungry or wants to know about something it saw whilst outside or just for knowledge, which Peepers is happy to indulge in. Eventually though, the clone begins questioning itself and it's appearance, it had never met this Wander it hears so much about but it does know that it hates him.

Out of the influence maybe, but mostly because it had to pretend to be it. So if the creators of it hated Wander and the clone was an exact copy of him, did they hate him too?

A couple of weeks go by and the clone begins experimenting himself, one morning rolling out of bed for another training session with Commander Peepers and wakes up, looks in the mirror, seeing his fur all messy and puffed up and ends up staring again but this time with a genuine smile cause it's not like looking at a stranger anymore. So he keeps his fur messy for that day, Peepers let's him get away with it cause no invasions are happening as of now, mostly planning. So the clone sees it as a sign of being able to continue being like this whilst inside the skullship, even asking for certain things in his room, which Peepers obliges to along with Hater since the clone is doing good at his job. They both know that it's a child version of Wander and therefore set boundaries and rules, which he follows..for now.

At some point though, the clone began asking if he could have a different name and not be referred to as a clone. Which takes a long time of being called a preferred name, Hater coming up with the name Wandy and Wandy sticking to it since he liked the sound of it. It's not completely away from the Wander person but it's still different in a way that works for him.

He actually gets his lil heeled boots as a present for a proper successful invasion after helping Peepers with the planning on one and asking if he could take the lead to show how much he's learnt from the both of them. Both Peepers and Hater (despite not being the one to give it him) contributed and gifted the kid the boots, which Wandy is deeply DEEPLY attached to and would throw a fit if he lost them cause they mean so much to him.

Eventually he starts becoming more and more childlike and enjoying being evil just like the two adults! They eventually begin to get a bit more lenient with him and treat him more like a kid that causes trouble but still gets his work done, and have noticed that despite his fluffy appearance and that they can see the difference, a lot of others around the galaxy still view him as a copy of Wander therefore they're fine with the appearance and don't force him to dress like Wander anymore. He also gets his own bedroom at some point, but it takes a while to make and such. Other than that, he just lives to continue working with his creators(or as he calls them dad's) which Hater is still getting used to, as well as Peepers but eventually take the roles of it more seriously as the years go by.

(Sorry for the huge ramble)

A little bit of lore art too! Planning on colouring this very soon!

[mylifeisactuallyamess]

Sanctuary part 2

Chapter 14: Adjusting

A/N: Here we go! So starts them all trying to find their feet with one another again. With the added body of Crosshair 🥹

Warnings: 18+, mentions of Tantiss, food, brief mention of injections, lots of feelings, mentions of scars.

Word Count: 5.5k+

Chapter 13 - Chapter 14 - Chapter 15

Masterlist

Tagging: @subbing-for-clones

You weren’t used to sunshine. Not the warmth that tickled your skin, or the brightness that broke through the window. Everything was different. The fact you even had a window made your breath quicken. The covers were softer, lighter. Heat bled into the building from outside instead of being shoved into your cell in short bursts.

Sounds outside were muffled, but you heard…life.

People calling out greetings, children laughing, a hound barking. There was an underlying roar from the constant shifting sea below the island, a sound that made your muscles relax and your eyes close.

The world around you was alight. There was no cruelty, no lives calling out for help only to be silenced forever. Your power ebbed and flowed under your skin, rolling with the natural feel of the place, taking you on a current of calm you had never been able to tap into before. It made you feel lighter.

A delicious aroma filled the room, making your stomach clench and growl so hard you curled into a ball. The room Omega had shown you to was simple. Plain walls, a bed, a chair and a storage unit for clothes.

Noises from downstairs came to your attention, a booming laugh, the clatter of plates and many voices. Everything was so alien to you, especially the sense of belonging that attempted to infuse you. It tangled in your awareness, spreading over you with a warmth that tried to seep down to your bones.

You had been here before.

The thought was loud and firm. True. It was true.

A canvas bag sat on the chair, making you frown slightly. You had no belongings…not even the clothes on your back had survived what you’d been through. So why was there a bag? Curiosity nagged, giving you no option except to satisfy it. Rising from the bed you tiptoed over on silent feet, your fingers flexing as they reached for the clasp.

Flipping it open, you paused when the contents were revealed. The armour was familiar, grey and scuffed, with stitch marks painted on the vambraces. The helmet was a comfortable weight in your hands, fingers automatically finding the hidden skull symbols, tracing the raised outlines. The lightning bolt was horizontal, spreading either side of the skull. Biting your lower lip, you gently slipped it over your head.

The HUD flickered to life, soft static from the com filled your ears until it connected to the right channel. The screen had lines running through it, slowly adjusting the focus. This visor was more intricate and easier to use than the TK helmet you had worn back on Tantiss.

Your thoughts soured, the happiness beaten back by painful memories. The helmet went back in the bag, cover closed and you marched into the private refresher to take a hot shower.

You scrubbed every inch of your body, careful of the patch on your side and the bandages on your wrists. Completely alone for the first time in as long as you could remember; you allowed yourself to explore the marks you had refused to think about before.

Feeling each ridge and bump of every scar that covered your skin. Each one tugged at something within, but no memories sprang up to tell you where they came from. Great gaps yawned in your mind, filled with the swirling black mist of nothingness instead of colour and sounds. Maybe it was a blessing, judging by the state of your back and legs.

The clothes you found in the drawers were light and thin, made from material specifically to cope with the constant hot weather. A cropped pair of soft leggings and a tunic that tied at the waist, flowing over your hips with short sleeves. It felt odd to have your arms uncovered but freeing at the same time. The scars stood out in stark relief but you didn’t care, unburdened by the trauma they were born from. They had lost their power over you.

The door opened silently when you pressed the button on the control panel. The noises you heard earlier had stopped. Tilting your head, you let out a soft breath, casting your net of awareness wider.

There was someone waiting downstairs for you. He was mainly calm but there was a faint tremor of trepidation, and wariness. He also knew you were awake.

Deciding not to hide anymore, you slowly descended the stairs, steadying yourself with a hand trailing against the wall. The leather shoes you wore were supple and quiet but he still turned the exact moment you appeared.

His eyes widened at the sight of you, a minute move most people would have missed, but it was accompanied by a shot of surprise that rippled across the room.

The pair of you studied each other. Your eyes took in his dark hair, longer than the rest and held back with a red bandana. The skull on it matched the helmet upstairs. The dark side of his face was marked with a tattoo and a faint dusting of stubble. He was dressed in the underpadding from his armour, clearly ready to gear up at any moment. He wore a holster, the blaster you noticed was not secured, ready for a quick draw. A vibroblade was hidden behind his back, pushed into the belt of the holster but you knew that’s not where he usually kept it.

“How are you feeling?” His voice had a seasoned quality, a gravelly note of authority that matched his outward demeanour. You would not underestimate this man, not at all. His muscles tensed, coiled and ready to throw him into action, his eyes were studying you as intensely as you were studying him.

Hunter. He matched the image Omega created when she mentioned that name, and you remembered his name in the chaos of yesterday.

“I had a shower.” There was a brief uptick to his lips, as though he wanted to smile but he wasn’t ready. You could feel the sadness that lingered at the edges of his presence, sadness for you.

“Hungry? Omega cooked you pancakes.” The very notion Omega had cooked you breakfast made something crack inside you. With a soft shuffle of movement you came down the last step and approached the table.

Hunter took that as a yes, pulling a plate from the warm stone oven and sliding it in front of an empty chair. You sat down, feeling so hungry you were nauseous. A cup of black caf also materialised, the smell made you lean forward. With grabby hands you snatched the cup up, breathing in the steamy smell before downing the entire contents in one go. He cocked an eyebrow, holding a hand out so he could refill it.

You began to eat, trying to keep yourself from moaning your approval at the taste of it all. You had lived on grey sludge, rations and bread for so long you didn’t know food like this existed. The golden brown colour of the pancake reminded you of the eyes watching you with a look that made you shift in your seat.

“Where is Crosshair?” You queried. He was the only person you knew here. Aside from Omega. Hunter sighed, crossing his arms and spreading his legs into a more comfortable position.

“Around.” You mulled over the answer, picking up on the quiet emotions that drifted around this man. He was holding back from you, unsure of how to proceed. He was burning with curiosity, meaning he was desperate to ask you questions but after what he’d seen you do to that medic…

Shame clouded your mind, distorting your connection and the sense of him faded a little. “I am sorry.” You saw his leg give a little bounce.

“What for?”

“Is the medic ok?” You stabbed a piece of pancake.

“She will survive.” The fork twisted in your hand. Suddenly you didn’t feel like eating anymore.

“She wanted to trap me,” you murmured. “Never again.” Hunter slid a hand across the table, his fingers stopped an inch or so away from your own. His nails were flat and square, fingers wide and worn, calloused from years of holding weapons and fighting. The crazy urge to take his hand almost made you move. You had been isolated for so long, trapped in that mountain, held in the cold and the dark with only death as your constant companion.

Concern broke through the threat of the painful memories you did possess, lifting you above the tide. Compassion and affection hit you square in the chest causing you to inhale sharply and your hand moved away from his.

You hadn’t connected with anymore on such a vulnerable level except…his face was always there behind closed eyes. The visor of his helmet, the goggles you had traced so many times with the tip of your finger. His russet dark hair, the feel of his breath on your face…

“Where is Tech?” Hunter couldn’t hide the twitch in his hand at your words.

“The Archium.” You had no idea what that was but you were grateful he wasn’t here. The feelings you felt whenever you saw him were almost too powerful to process and it scared you.

“Where are we?”

“An island.” A wry smile appeared on your face, taking a measure of him. He was telling you the truth but he was purposely leaving out details, because under it all, his trust was hanging by a thread.

“We know each other,” you stated.

“Yes.”

“How?” He sucked in a breath, his broad chest pushed outwards and drew his hands together on the table, leaning heavily on his elbows.

“We found you in a slavers compound. We were there to extract someone but he was deathly ill and you were the medic tending to him, so you came with us.”

“I was a medic?”

“Yes,” he ground out, anger making his voice rough. Not anger at you though, anger about what you had lost at the hands of…Hemlock. “A damn good one. Healed my ribs, saved Tech’s life and you maintained Echo when he needed it.”

“Echo…” you knew that name.

“We sent a transmission. He should be here in a few rotations.”

“Why?” The puzzlement was real and fear ghosted up your spine.

“He has missed you.” The answer stunned you. No one in their right mind would miss you? Why would they? You had no family, it was always just you.

You have family. Go and find them.

The guilt rose in a wave. The fork clattered loudly on the plate as your hands covered your face. Niner was still in that awful place, you had just upped and left him. You knew there hadn’t been much of a choice at the time, but still.

“Stitch.” Hunter moved closer, the scent of him was dragged in every time you inhaled roughly. He smelled like pancakes and sunlight with a hint of katarn. You felt a tentative touch on your shoulder and immediately you stiffened, only to relax when he gently rubbed his thumb in little circles. There was nothing about him that said he would hurt you, only if you hurt him first.

After all, you were unpredictable. A threat.

You tried so hard not to cry, desperate to keep the weakness bottled up, except the cracks in your walls were too large and it spilled in great swathes. The emotions released, wringing you out until you had no choice but to fall against Hunter’s chest. Fingers dug into the material as your tears soaked him. He was warm and safe. Cocooning you in a loose embrace so you didn’t feel trapped or restrained in any way.

“I didn’t mean to hurt the medic,” you gasped into his chest.

“I know,” he rumbled, brushing his hand up and down your back.

“I have something inside me,” you admitted in a whisper. He tensed but didn’t pull away, holding his breath as he waited for you to continue. “They…they injected me with something that burned.” Your fingers flexed at the memory, the blaze of it pushing through every blood vessel had made you scream so hard your throat bled. “It hurt so much and now I can feel everything. I can feel your hesitation about me, I can feel the pain Crosshair hides, I can feel Wrecker’s sadness when he looks at me.” You squeezed your eyes shut. “I feel the people outside, the waves in the sea, the life that hums from the trees. It all speaks to me, constantly. I can’t stop it, can’t hide from it because it comes from everywhere. It breathes with me, fills me…I don’t want it.”

“I wish we had found you sooner,” Hunter murmured, pulling you a little tighter into his chest. “I’m so sorry, Stitch. I’m so sorry.”

“Niner told me I had a family. A squad.”

“Yes,” he murmured gently.

“You’re not going to want me now.” Hunter pulled away, cupping your face with his warm hands so he could gently wipe the tears that marked your face with his thumbs.

“You will always be one of us,” he tried to reassure you.

“But I’m broken,” your voice cracked. “He changed me, something is wrong with me.”

“Then you’ll fit right in.” Nothing you said changed his mind. Hunter looked to you as a part of his family, you felt it pouring from him and into your presence. “We will help. In whatever way we can.”

“Doing that puts you at risk. He will never stop hunting me.”

Hunter sighed, lowering his hands to your shoulders. “We are not letting you out of our sight again.” His eyes shaded with something dark, the shadow of the soldier came through as the need for violence against Hemlock took over his thoughts. “Hemlock can try, but he will never succeed.”

You nodded, untangling from him and wiping your face properly. It was a battle to shove all the emotions back behind the broken barriers, but you had to. What you needed was a distraction.

“Where is Crosshair?”

The stones were baking in the sun, heat drifted from them in waves. Accompanied by the chill of the sea breeze, they countered each other to create a comfortable atmosphere that had you breathing in deeply. Hunter led you down paths, greeting people as he went but never straying from your side.

The noise of a rifle punctured the quiet, a noise that triggered a sense of apprehension. Your feet came to a stop. The memories were there, yet always out of reach and it was frustrating.

“What’s wrong?” Hunter back tracked, casting his gaze around for whatever had made you pause.

“Nothing.”

“Crosshair is through there.” He gestured, rubbing the other hand around the back of his neck. He still didn’t know what say or how to act around Crosshair at the moment. Another person he couldn’t quite figure out.

“I’ll be fine,” you assured him.

“Hmm.” Hunter tapped the comlink he’d given you and you nodded at the words he didn’t need to speak.

You watched him turn and walk away before heading for the entrance to the caves. Feeling your way with your hands and senses in the darkness. Only small animals were in here, yet the walls closed in. A drip echoed and your thin shoes slipped on the wet rocks, finally exploding gratefully back into the sunshine. It took a moment for your heart to slow to a steady beat and your breaths to become deeper.

Crosshair’s shoulders tensed. He knew you were there but he didn’t turn to look, instead he rushed the next shot at a silver droid who was holding some fruit. The bolt skimmed the droid, causing him to spin in its wake. Batcher was nearby, darting over to you with her tongue out, only to run away again, back to the hole she was digging in the wet sand.

The tide was out, waves gently lapping at the rocks further down the cove. It was calming, as though the water was pulling out your negative energy with each withdrawing wave. Not wanting to disturb Crosshair you sat on a rock, content to watch.

“What do you want?” He finally broke the quiet and you hid the grin.

“Wondered what you were up to.”

“None of your business.” He sounded so abrupt, an effort to distance himself and push you away. Except you could feel what he was trying to hide. Crosshair was struggling, much like you were. He didn’t know where he fit anymore. He wasn’t doing well with the amount of people here, the sunlight was throwing off his aim as well as the strange noises of life; after being confined in silence for months on end. It all made him feel alienated.

Part of him didn’t want to be here, thinking he belonged back in the bowels of Tantiss, rotting and forgotten. He almost couldn’t be happy with the fact he was free. He had too many demons.

A spike of pain lanced through his presence and you jerked upright to see him shake and flex his right hand. “Again,” he demanded of the droid.

“I calculated your current shooting accuracy and you have a 43% chance of hitting the target,” the droid called from where it hovered above the sea.

“Calculate me hitting you right in the processor.”Crosshair snarled icily, sighting down his rifle.

“That would be an even lower—ah!” The droid spun again, bobbing in the air with another near miss from the rifle.

You took a breath to say something when Crosshair turned to look at you over his shoulder.

“Shut up, or go away.” His gaze flickered to a point above you, then he went back to his target practice. With a scowl you debated what to do. You felt a connection with Crosshair, your demons had the same name after all. He had briefly shown you some understanding yesterday, letting that shine through his usual indifference.

Still, he was too agitated right now and Hunter was watching, adding to Crosshair’s reluctance to engage with you.

Hunter met you on the other side of the cave entrance, not saying a word as he fell into step beside you.

The path you took was random, climbing higher and higher up the island until you arrived at the very top of Pabu. A grand tree stood here, the trunk wide and aged with little critters chattering in the branches. You came to a stop, staring at the green tufts around the base.

You knew it was called grass, but you had no idea what it felt like. Was it warm? Cold? Wet? Soft? Prickly? So you sat on the half wall, relishing the shade the tree threw. Hunter settled next to you, quite content to sit in silence.

“Are you my shadow now?” He tried to stifle a chuckle, seemingly much more at ease with you since the talk earlier.

“It must be overwhelming being here.” As he spoke, you gently spread your fingers in the short grass. It was cool, slightly prickly but the strands gave way beneath your touch. Tears collected in the corner of your eyes. It had been so long since you’d experienced outside, you almost didn’t want to go back into the house.

“Did I enjoy being outside? You know…before?” He thought for a moment, the breeze teasing a strand of dark hair over his bandana.

“You did. Though your favourite place was the Marauder.” The mentioned ship stood tall and proud in the space, wings folded in the landing position and the ramp was open. This must have been how you go here, as the imperial cargo ship was nowhere to be seen.

“Can I?” He smiled, titling his head towards the ship in permission. Hunter let you go up the ramp alone, settling on the steps like a silent guardian.

The outside brightness dimmed, giving way to the comfortable shade of the ship. There were two console screens with fixed chairs, a row of emergency seats lined one side of the hull and on the other were some very basic bunks.

A gonk droid beeped at you, waddling forwards and bumping into your body. “Hey little guy.” You gave him a pat as you slipped past him.

The gunners pit had a curtain that covered the hatch, some decorative lights and a little nest of blankets on the floor. There was a red and black doll sitting on the floor and that was all you needed, to know this was Omega’s space.

There were some storage panels to the left of the gunners pit, you didn’t open them though. You were distracted.

The bottom bunk rested at waist height, at first glance there was nothing special about it. But when you touched the base…

The tension filled your body, gripping every muscle until you were locked in position. Tech lay on the bunk, pale and barely breathing. Your hand was pressed against his leg but blood still welled up, covering your hand, seeping into his cut clothes. It dripped over the side of the bunk with a soft splat. You could smell the blood, taste it at the back of your throat. It whipped your fear into a frenzy when you felt his life ebb away from your grip…

“Stitch?”

It was like breaking the surface after struggling for breath. The vision faded, but the intense feelings remained. Especially when you looked at who had just walked in. You couldn’t breathe, words fled to leave you gawking in shock. He shifted under your stare, adjusting his goggles and carefully avoiding looking you directly in the eyes

“Are you well?”

“Oh, Tech,” you breathed with so much emotion, he gripped his datapad tightly, breath hitching noticeably. You tried to expel the emotions from the vision so you could smile and excuse yourself. Instead you could only stifle a half sob with a shaky hand.

Everything was made so much clearer. He had been the person you saw in some of your visions on Tantiss. After the escape from Lau, you dreamed of him again, cycling through memories that could only be yours and his. And the way he’d managed to calm you after the incident with the medic, even though he made you feel confused and disorientated.

“Stitch?” His whisper was laced with concern and he went to step towards you, almost rocking on the balls of his feet to stop himself getting too close. You could feel it, the part of you that had been lost in the dark, greedily reaching for him.

Tech’s presence touched yours, delicately entwining the longer you both stood there staring at each other. He felt achingly familiar, your fingers itched to press onto his chest, to breathe his air and never surface from him again.

He was safe.

He was home.

You felt how much Tech wanted to touch you. His desires pulsed in cresting waves, making yours break free from the box you’d put them in. What would it be like to fall into his arms and forget everything that had happened?

Then the doubts came. Did you want to fall into him because he was safe? Because you knew, like it was engraved on your bones, that he would shield you from everything that came your way.

He was sort of the man to throw himself in plunging cold water to save someone he loved, without knowing how deep it was. To run through fire, to protect them with his body while he took bolts from the enemy. You didn’t deserve any of that.

“I, um. I have to go.” You couldn’t bear the crestfallen look on his face or the fracturing heartbreak that trembled through his presence and into yours.

“I would like to talk to you.”

“Another time.” You were almost at the hatch, outside beckoned when you felt the featherlight touch on your hand.

It stopped you in your tracks.

The sense of his trepidation and elation that he had been brave enough to touch you, made your eyes clench shut, desperate not to give in.

“Tech, please.” You couldn’t speak louder than a whisper, but internally you were screaming. Ripped in half by the desire to curl into his embrace while the other half wanted to run away and never look back.

His fingers twitched against yours. His thought process was almost tangible with the physical connection and it was weakening your resolve. Everything was crumbling, the barriers you had carefully constructed during your imprisonment were cracking even more than they had with Hunter.

The last clone you had let in, was probably dead because he dared to show how much he cared. If there was one person you didn’t want to drag to the depths with your chaotic energy, it was Tech.

Kind, steadfast, loyal, exceptional Tech.

You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him, but unable to pull away from him, the pair of you connected by outstretched hands and nothing else. A lump rose in your throat at the brief and barely perceptible squeeze he gave you.

“Another time then.” And just like that, he released you.

The loss of him gave you no choice but to walk forward. Practically stumbling down the steps of the ramp where the floor rushed to meet you.

“Whoa!” Strong arms snatched you upright, twirling you round and then settling you firmly back on your two feet. “You ok?”

The large clone, Wrecker, had saved you from smashing your face on the floor. An intricate scar covered one side of his face, spiderwebbing out in a deep burn mark, which no doubt related to the discolouration in his left eye.

He was regarding you hesitantly, his large hands held up in a defensive position and he even backed up a step. You could feel his nerves because he had been told not to touch you. And he’d broken that one rule.

“Wrecker. Right?” His face lit up, a smile coming from nowhere and it made him look so much younger.

“You remember?” He asked eagerly.

“No. Sorry. But Omega talked about you a lot.”

“S’ok,” he mumbled. “How you feelin’?” What a loaded question. He shimmered with boundless amounts of energy, it made you want to move all the time because it was so infectious.

“I was just checking out the ship,” you told him, trying not falter.

“Oh! Triggering memories! Did ya get anythin’?” You swallowed, feeling the tightness in your throat as you did.

“No. No nothing.”

“Oh.” He sounded genuinely disappointed for you. “I could try and help you remember some stuff? If you want.” You had nothing better to do right now. Hunter had vanished, obviously thinking he could leave you with Tech.

“Sure. Want to get something to eat?” You asked. He laughed heartily in response, putting his hands on his hips.

“I always want food. C’mon.” You sneaked a look back at the ship, slightly disappointed you couldn’t see Tech and then you felt plagued with selfishness.

Maybe…maybe you should have stayed and talked to him.

Tech was trying to concentrate. However, there were far too many distractions happening right now. Phee was telling Omega and Lyana about a daring rescue of some other worldly artefact she recently brought back. Wrecker was sat next to him, laughing loudly at something Shep had said across the table. Crosshair was brooding on a chair in the corner, his hand resting on the lurca hound Omega named Batcher.

It was a relationship that surprised Tech. Crosshair had never been one for obviously showing attachment to anyone, let alone an animal. The hound had come from Tantiss, demonstrating some severe domestication traits that would have ultimately led to her termination if she hadn’t escaped.

The sound of a chair moving over the terrace made Tech look to his left, tipping his chair back slightly so he could see around Wrecker’s massive shoulders.

You were smiling.

It made his heart slam into his ribs harder than normal, and it was at Hunter.

Tech recognised the tilt of your head, the way your nose scrunched. You were saying you were fine, but Tech noticed how blank your face became when you thought no one was looking.

His hand flexed against his thigh. It ached occasionally…and then to see you staring at the bunk where he knew you had initially saved his life. The look on your face back on the ship had stuttered his breathing. Your eyes had cried out to him and it had taken every fibre of his being not to pull you against him. Tech was desperate when he took your hand, to feel how real you were.

“You seem distracted, brown eyes.” All four legs of his chair hit the floor and the sensation jarred him back to the present.

“I had been thinking the flight controls need calibrating on the Marauder,” Tech told Phee. It wasn’t a lie. He had been thinking that until you distracted him. Just by existing. What Hemlock did to you, he still didn’t know. But it left a bitter taste in his mouth. In his eyes, Hemlock had stolen from you and by proxy, from Tech.

“Do you ever switch off?” Phee nudged his shoulder and he went with the motion, refraining from rolling his eyes.

His gaze settled on the corner where Crosshair had been sitting, to find it empty. It wasn’t unusual for his most reserved brother to sneak off. He glanced over at where you stood by the wall, tuning out Phee and the others once more.

Your back was to Tech, staring out at the sea and the darkening sky. With Crosshair beside you. Tech frowned. This behaviour was out of character, his brother would never seek out someone in a group — not the old Crosshair anyway.

Tech tried to not look over so much as the pair of you chatted for what seemed like hours but then you laughed. Laughed. A sound he hadn’t heard in such a long time.

“Tech.”

You were touching Crosshair’s hand now? Carefully, smoothing your fingers over his palm..

“Tech.” His attention dragged to Hunter, still scowling behind his goggles. “Help me with these?” Tech stood up too fast, his chair knocked over followed by a mocking cheer from Wrecker. To his absolute mortification, you and Crosshair looked over at the noise, as well as everyone else. A warmth rose to his cheeks and Wrecker righted the chair for him.

“Hey, what’s going on with you?” Phee asked, twisting in her own chair to face him. He stared at her a second, unable to form words. It was so loud, he could feel you watching him, hear Wrecker saying something, Hunter’s baritone voice joined the cacophony and the girls were laughing.

“I need to leave.” He explained sharply, ramming his goggles into his face, though it did nothing to lessen the embarrassment that burned there. Tech wasn’t someone to be easily shaken. He had performed under immense pressure behind enemy lines, able to tune out the loudest of distractions. He had the ability to shoot droids he saw moving out of his peripheral while performing some intricate data encryption. But he could not tolerate being around you and not touch you, talk to you…he didn’t understand. Logically, he did. Emotionally, he did not.

Intense feelings, he had found, weren’t something you could eradicate. Tech could readily admit he was jealous of how easy you seemed to have it with everyone else. Hunter, he had assumed would be the first person you connected with, even Wrecker maybe. But not even want to experience his companionship, wounded him greatly.

Thankfully, the Marauder loomed and he slipped aboard, locking the ramp. He stood in the dark and the quiet for a moment, giving himself time to calm down, to stop his hands from shaking and to think clearly.

Now, he could work on calibrating the flight controls. He readied his tools, adding some to his belt, laying others on the control panel. However, no sooner had he settled himself in front of the controls, there was a knock on the hull of the ship. He decided to ignore it, concentrating on locking the mechanism in neural.

Knock knock.

Tech sighed. He had been looking forward to getting lost in the ship and now he was having to deal with either Hunter or Phee checking on him. Tech pressed a button on his vambrace and the ramp activated.

“I have some repairs to attend to on the main systems,” he informed whoever it was. Standing up so he could grab his favourite tool and give it a once over with a cloth. “I will not be sleeping at the house tonight.” He didn’t soften his tone, he wanted to be left alone. How much clearer did he have to be?

“I just came to check on you.” The tool slipped from his grip, clanging in a dead drop to the floor.

The tool you had given him at the Love Festival on Ord Mantell.

[din-miller]

It’s fall which means it’s ride your husband’s dick while wearing a sweater

Pairing: Wrecker x F!Reader

Word count: 1k

Summary: Comfortember day two and four – Sweater Weather & Warmth

Warnings: 18+, riding, unprotected p in v (don’t be silly wrap your willy), married couple, pabu life

A/N: I wasn’t sure of the rating range for Comfortember so this is why it’s so late. Divider by @djarrex and @saradika

While the change of weather on Pabu is pretty during Autumn season, the chilly wind blowing off the water has you seeking out any means available to keep warm.

You’ve just gotten back from running some errands and the cold has seeped into your clothing and seemingly into your bones as well. The furnace is on but your body is still shivering.

Tossing the bags onto the countertop you quickly made your way into your bedroom. Wrecker, having spent the day helping out the villager folk, is under the sheets dead asleep. You kept your footsteps light and carefully stripped yourself fully of your clothing.

Naked, you reach for the warmest attire of clothing available which happened to be one of Wrecker’s old sweaters. On him it’s a sweater but on you it’s a wearable blanket. You chuckled quietly to yourself when you caught your reflection in the mirror. The only part of you that is visible is your head, neck and lower legs.

“Cold?”

You jumped, looking at Wrecker with red cheeks, embarrassed, “It’s getting colder outside. How you clones manage with just your blacks I’ll never know,” You joked, “I bravely faced the cold and picked up some dinner for us too.”

Wrecker eyes roamed leisurely over your body despite it being almost completely covered, “We starting with dessert first?”

“Hmm, tempting.” You winked, rubbing a foot over the other in an attempt to warm it up.

Wrecker stretched out on the bed, sheet falling from his body and oh, he’s laid completely bare, cock standing up proud and hard against his stomach, pre-cum leaking from the swollen tip and pooling on his skin.

While your body is still suffering from the cold there's a pleasant coiling heat in your abdomen, “I’m not taking the sweater off.”

“That’s fine. As long as I get the pleasure of stripping you of your panties.”

“Who says I’m wearing any?”

“Cyar’ika.” Wrecker warned, hand reaching down to the base of his cock, applying pressure there as his other hand awkwardly bent back behind him to gather all the pillows together to prop himself up to sit straight.

The floorboards creaked underneath your feet as you moved to join him on the bed, sheets already warmed by his body heat, the feeling pleasant against your cold skin.

The second you’re on the bed Wrecker is pulling you into his arms, your sweater bunching up at your hips as you straddled him.

Wrecker’s left arm wrapped around your lower back steadying you as his right hand cupped your check, pulling you into a passionate kiss. You lowered yourself completely on his thighs, his cock sliding between your damp folds. You grounded down seeking pressure against your clit and you moaned loudly into his mouth.

Wrecker broke the kiss, “Riduur, I want you.”

“Hadn’t noticed,” You smirked, rocking your hips forwards, his cock sliding through your soaked lips until the tip disappeared from view, “I’m all yours big guy.”

“Ride me?” He asked, already reaching for the lube kept in the bedside drawer. While he did that you sneaked a hand underneath the sweater. Wrecker hips jerked up when your fingers touched his cock.

You lifted yourself off his lap enough to slide your fingers through your wet folds and into your cunt, stretching yourself open for him. Wrecker leaned up, lips hot and insistent against your as his hand slowly began to slide its way up your thigh and he could feel the muscles under his fingers twitch as you rock yourself on your fingers, breath coming out in pants as anticipation raced through your body.

You gave a cry of protest when Wrecker pulled your hand out of your pussy. He hushed you with another kiss and opened the bottle of lube, pouring some onto his palm, “Shh, I’m just making sure I don’t hurt you.”

The lubricants cold as he gently moved his fingers around your entrance. He forced himself to slow his hand to a snail's pace, thrusting his fingers in and out of you as he prepared you for his cock. Your breath hitched when he pressed against the bundle of nerves inside you.

“Now, Wrecker please, I need you inside me.” You whined, dropping your head onto his shoulder, “Fuck your riduur, make me feel good.”

“As you wish, my lady.” Wrecker smiled, hand quickly being replaced by his cock. He pushed in, inch by inch, whispering comforting words as your walls stretch around his girth.

Wrecker pressed open mouth kisses to your neck lovingly as he waited for you to adjust to his size. There’s no hurry, he’ll wait until you’re comfortable.

It doesn’t take you long before you’re setting a slow pace. Up and down. Up and down. Your pace picking up on each second thrust, eliciting moans, whimpers and whispers of pleasure from him as you bounced down meeting his upward thrusts.

“Wrecker,” You gasped out, head thrown back, “I’m close.” You warned as your cunt fluttered around his cock, “Cum with me.”

Never one to deny you anything, his hips snapped up hard, pace rougher as he pants through his release, spilling deep inside you as your walls spasmed and your arousal soaked his cock.

“Kriff,” You exhaled deeply, making no more to get up, “Sweater weather is becoming my favourite.”

His hands rubbed your thighs, cock feebly twitching inside you still, “Any weather where you're in my clothing is my favourite. Especially when you’re just wearing mine and nothing else.”

You laughed, “Don’t get used to the ‘nothing else’ part. You caught me before I could put underwear on.”

“I guess I’ll just have to empty your underwear drawer.” He joked, adding a wink at the end.

Your eyes dance with mirth as you lean down to whisper in his ear, “Even the crotchless ones?”

“You have crotchless panties?!”