meshla-cyarika

[meshla-cyarika]

Every single love interest to the Doctor staring at Billie Piper regenerating into the Doctor knowing that to RTD the doctor only loved Rose and never ever loved them the same or even more than Rose:

[meshla-cyarika]

Okay, i just saw this absolutely deliciously mind blowing edit of Conrad on my tiktok FYP and it had me realizing how many missed opportunities they had with Conrad as a character. Me, personally, I would've scrapped that his whole thing is that he believes aliens aren't real (which is an allegory for anti-vaccination poeple) and I would've had it be that his whole deal is that he hates the Doctor and UNIT because they're able to save the world from aliens and god knows what but no one was ever able to save him from abusive mother and his allies are all people who have suffered from alien attacks or stuff UNIT have done and feel like they've been ignored by them so they're fighting back because they want to finally be seen. It makes me so mad that Conrad is made to be this pathetic and literally stupid character when he could've been so much more like a really sinister character that you can't help but love.

The edit is by @/vndrain on tiktok I highly recommend you go watch it rn 👀

[meshla-cyarika]

Doctor Who propaganda I'm not falling for:

Mfs who still say "retcon 13" and then glaze the fuck out of this new era.

Not acknowledging that bringing back old faces to play the doctor breaks lore and having these specific faces coming back makes it seem like other eras dont matter.

Believing that Disney is the only one to blame for how this era has turned out.

Praising RTD for his inclusivity when it's really just the bare minimum.

People who acknowledge that the writinh is bad but still like it cuz its "fun". Tell me you really dont care about the show without telling me you really dont care for the show.

People saying that 13 showing up in the reality war had the best writing she's ever got. Mf she acted the same as she did in chibnall's era you just clearly have never rewatched 13s era since it came out and now that you've seen her again and aren't clouded by hate just cuz she's a woman you're seeing her in a new light.

People who blame Ncuti for david tennant showing up as 14 and how 15 regenerated so quickly just because he wanted to extend his career into other things. Just cuz he was busy did NOT mean Russel had to call in david Tennant specifically, nor did it mean he had to have 15 regenerate he could've just put the show on a break for a bit which would make sense because Ncuti filmed the 60th, season 1 and season 2 back to back. No one would've complained if it had a pause (WHICH IT IS HAVING ANYWAY SO WHY DID 15 EVEN REGENERATE IN THE FIRST PLACE).

People who say "oh, I really hope (insert beloved character here) will show up!!" DONT GIVE RTD IDEAS YOU LUNATICS.

[meshla-cyarika]

Doctor Who spoilers!!!

(Me if I was in the doctor who writing room)

Russell: "So, Ncuti wants to leave to extend his career into other things. Obviously we'll have to have him regenerate and find a way to bring in more fans. Let's call Billie in."

Me: "If Ncuti wants to extend his career, why don't we put the show on a hiatus for a bit. Maybe have it so that theres a couple years of just a few specials, like the second half of season 4. By doing that, we can also research the reviews of the fans and work to accommodate some of the things they want include or excluded. We saw how Marvel fans reacted to Robert Downey jr. being revealed as Doctor Doom in the MCU and bringing Tennant back had very strongly mixed views. If we are going to have him regenerate, I think it would be best to bring in a new face. That way it would give fans hope that the show is going back to it's old formula."

Russell: "...Get the fuck out of my office and never return."

[meshla-cyarika]

I hate all the people saying "isnt it so great that billie is back!!" as if that doesn't tear down the main foundations of the show. And I HATE the excuse of "it's a sci-fi show of course it's not gonna be realistic!!" which is like yea but the show has to have some level of boundaries or else it all falls apart???

Doctor Who spoilers!!! (Also neurotypical people DNI because you will never understand how neurodiverse people feel and how much we do feel things for stuff you find insignificant.)

I haven't seen Reality War, but I have seen the big reveal at the end of the episode. I remember being so excited when the big reveal of the 14 Doctor was announced and how RTD was coming back to write for Doctor Who, I remember not really liking the 60th specials as much as everyone else but I shook off my doubt and persevered with Ncuti's era. Everyone knows 15's era isn't like any other era of Doctor Who, which some people find bad and some people find good.

Billie Piper being cast as the 16th Doctor was my final straw. Before I say what I'm about to say please note that the opinion that I have of this is not fueled by any kind of hatred but pure and utter sadness. Doctor Who has been a constant source of comfort my entire life, starting when I began Eccleston's season when I was seven, as an undiagnosed autistic kid I never really connected with things as much as other people my age, but Doctor Who was something I instantly clicked with.

I have hyperfixated on this show for as long as I can remember and seeing it crash and burn the way it has has genuinely destroyed my soul. The little things that make Doctor Who Doctor Who have been destroyed - fuelling the show with nostalgia bait (bringing back David Tennant and Billie Piper), biregeneration, the lack of filler episodes, the companions not meaning anything to the plot and not doing anything. And they haven't even gave a plausible explanation to most of these things.

And yes I will admit that I have been crying for the past half an hour about this because it hurts my soul that my most favourite thing in the world hasn't been handled with any kind of care. They dont care about their audience anymore, they just care about shock value nostalgia bait like the MCU.

And FYI I'm not one of those people who hates this new era because its "woke" or because the doctor is black or because he's gay. I dont care about that I just wanted it to feel like doctor who.

Might delete this post if all I receive is hate comments. I just dont know anyone irl who can even begin to understand how I feel about this. All I'm hoping for is that someone feels the same and I dont feel alone in this.

[meshla-cyarika]

Doctor Who spoilers!!! (Also neurotypical people DNI because you will never understand how neurodiverse people feel and how much we do feel things for stuff you find insignificant.)

I haven't seen Reality War, but I have seen the big reveal at the end of the episode. I remember being so excited when the big reveal of the 14 Doctor was announced and how RTD was coming back to write for Doctor Who, I remember not really liking the 60th specials as much as everyone else but I shook off my doubt and persevered with Ncuti's era. Everyone knows 15's era isn't like any other era of Doctor Who, which some people find bad and some people find good.

Billie Piper being cast as the 16th Doctor was my final straw. Before I say what I'm about to say please note that the opinion that I have of this is not fueled by any kind of hatred but pure and utter sadness. Doctor Who has been a constant source of comfort my entire life, starting when I began Eccleston's season when I was seven, as an undiagnosed autistic kid I never really connected with things as much as other people my age, but Doctor Who was something I instantly clicked with.

I have hyperfixated on this show for as long as I can remember and seeing it crash and burn the way it has has genuinely destroyed my soul. The little things that make Doctor Who Doctor Who have been destroyed - fuelling the show with nostalgia bait (bringing back David Tennant and Billie Piper), biregeneration, the lack of filler episodes, the companions not meaning anything to the plot and not doing anything. And they haven't even gave a plausible explanation to most of these things.

And yes I will admit that I have been crying for the past half an hour about this because it hurts my soul that my most favourite thing in the world hasn't been handled with any kind of care. They dont care about their audience anymore, they just care about shock value nostalgia bait like the MCU.

And FYI I'm not one of those people who hates this new era because its "woke" or because the doctor is black or because he's gay. I dont care about that I just wanted it to feel like doctor who.

Might delete this post if all I receive is hate comments. I just dont know anyone irl who can even begin to understand how I feel about this. All I'm hoping for is that someone feels the same and I dont feel alone in this.

Edit: if I see any of you mfs use the words "it's just a show" I'm going to actually lose my shit because if my feelings about something are made to be invalid I am gonna jump off a roof. I had all that shit thrown at me when the recent season of a show that is also my entire life was written poorly and whenever I spoke out about it poeple would throw that line at me.

[meshla-cyarika]

Tell Me About Your Day

Pairing: Kleya Marki x f!reader

Word count: 1,090

Tags/warnings: none.

Summary: The both of you have had a long day and make each other feel better.

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The hidden war with the Empire has been going on for as long as Kleya can remember at this point. Recent events have taken a toll on Luthen, he's slipping and needs a break desperately, but the Empire and the Rebellion never sleeps. Including Kleya.

She works restlessly, piecing together bits and pieces of conversations from the many bugs they have planted across the galaxy, while also responding to calls from rebel soldiers. It all has slowly become one big blur to her, everything is so similar. She's had to correct errors in her notes numerous times.

Kleya is sure Luthen will only point out her mistakes instead of thanking her for working so late into the evening. Speak of the devil, he's just walked through the main entrance to the antique shop.

"You're late." Her tone isn't harsh or cold, like she wants it to be, it's just neutral and tired.

"I know." Luthen's tone matches her own as he joins her in the backroom. "Anything interesting?"

Kleya removes her earpiece and slides the communication compartment back into it's hiding place. "Senator Organa was escorted back to Alderaan with high security, like we had predicted, Lonni reported that Hert has been promoted to Lieutenant Supervisor and Andor has completed his mission and is on his way back to Mina-Rau."

"Good." Luthen says, distantly. "You're dismissed for the evening."

"Are you sure you can handle it here for the night?" Kleya asks, not in a snarky way, but in genuine concern for his well being.

"I just said you're dismissed." Luthen emphasizes his point, his tone more demanding.

"Fine. You're the boss." Kleya grabs her bag and makes her leave. She didn't put up much of a fight with him, because, quite frankly, Kleya has been wanting to leave that backroom hours ago. Her body moves her in the direction of your apartment before her mind can keep up. That's all she needs. You.

《》《》《》《》

You softly hum the rhythm of the song playing quietly on the radio as you dry your hair. As Senator Mon Mothma's aide, you have had a very long day. You listened to all the meetings she had and made note of nearly everything said to scribble down on your datapad later, you started writing a speech about Mon Mothma's new bill that she's trying to get votes for, put up with Perrin's snide remarks, walked with Leida and provided her with emotional support towards her betrothal.

You almost let a relived sigh slip past your lips when Mon dismissed you for the day. You've been Mon Mothma's shadow for as long as you can remember now and not much can phase you. As soon as you reached your apartment, you removed all your fancy clothes and jewelry and took a well needed bath. The sweet floral smell of the bath salts is still wafting through your home.

A faint hiss echoes through the apartment and a small smile appears on your face. "In here, love."

Kleya soon emerges in the doorway, looking just about as exhausted as you feel. "You really shouldn't say that. What if I had been a burglar?"

"The point still stands." You rise from the chair at your vanity and make your way towards your partner. "You'd make a very hot burglar."

Kleya let's out a faint snort in amusement and let's you wrap your arms around her to pull her into an embrace, her arms loosely looping around your waist. You press a kiss to the crown of her head from where she's slightly slouched in your arms 

"Long day?" It's a stupid question really, because you already know the answer.

"The worst." Kleya pulls away from you, but only enough so that she can finally kiss you after so long. It's been about a week since you've seen each other. You were off world with Mon for a while and Kleya has been very busy the past few days.

"Come on." You guide her over to your vanity and sit her in the chair. Kleya makes a small sound of disgust, thinking that wiping off her make up, letting her hair down and changing into a different pair of clothes is so much work.

It's quiet for a moment, as you slide the neatly placed pins from her hair and place them into their own compartment on you vanity. Kleya silently observes you through the mirror, admiring your slightly tousled hair, the lack of make up on your face and the way your pyjama shirt is slipping off of your shoulder. This is the real you. Not the girl who hides in a Senator's shadow with a fake smile plastered on her face all the time.

"Tell me about your day." Kleya requests and you give her a small smile through the mirror. You know she's asking for a distraction, a set routine her mind can think about instead of worrying about everything else.

"Well, Senator Mothma decided to have breakfast with Senators Bail Organa and Riyo Chuchi. They only talked about problems we already know about and can't fix." You begin. "By the end of that, Mon entrusted me to write her a new speech for one of her many bills, which I started writing the draft for during Mas Amedda's banquet."

You slide out the last pin and Kleya's hair falls past her shoulders. You gently turn the chair to face you, so you can focus on cleaning the make up off her face.

"On the way back from the banquet, Perrin decided to become very talkative. I was strongly resisting the urge to punch him in the throat." You tell her.

"That's the spirit." Kleya let's out a small laugh.

"I went on a walk with Leida and Mon soon dismissed me after that." You conclude and finish wiping the make up from her face. "And then, I had a visit from my lovely girlfriend."

Kleya teasingly rolls her eyes. "I am lovely, aren't I?" She stands to wrap her arms around your neck.

"Only when you bring meiloorun candy." You smirk, hands moving to her waist.

"God forbidden you ever get caught by ISB. All they would have to do is tempt you with something covered in sugar." Kleya scoffs out a laugh.

This is what makes it all worth it. Fighting the Empire, lying to everyone you ever meet, staying on high alert all the time. It's all worth it when Kleya can come back to you at the end of the day.

[meshla-cyarika]

There is no better feeling than when the whole plot of a multi chapter 100k+ word fic finally all aligns in your mind and you start feeling like the next Shakespeare.

[meshla-cyarika]

I haven't posted anything in a while, but does anyone know what's happening with the bad batch comic series in the UK? Is it here yet, if so what shops is it in, or if it isnt here yet does anyone know when it will be? I know you can read comics online for free but I'd like to have them physically. <3

[meshla-cyarika]

Can I be honest for a second and say that one of my biggest fanfiction pet peeves is when someone will write their character or the reader insert as someone who should in theory be really badass (for example a Jedi or a Mandalorian, or an Avenger, or a soldier/fighter in general) and then make them really weak and basically not be able to handle themselves at all? Like come on realistically these mfs should be able to kill someone. Maybe this is just me being a girl who isn't girly, but I just want a character like this who can actually defend themselves and doesn't cry and need to be picked up by their s/o all the time.

[meshla-cyarika]

Sleazy politicians and sloppy make-outs

Pairing: Commander Fox x male!reader

Word count: 1,847

Tags/warnings: 18+ only! Smoking Star Wars weed, smut, handjobs.

Summary: Fox has had more than enough reasons to be pissed this week and coincidentally his mesh'la kyramud is finally back from his latest bounty.

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Fucking self-righteous politicians.

Fox stomps his way through the Coruscant streets, suddenly wishing he had brought his helmet to filter out the stench of exhaust fumes and who knows what. Even though he knows exactly what would happen to him if he loitered around the lower levels in full armour. Fox rearranges his jacket, which was yours at some point, and keeps his gaze glued to the floor while he marches on.

The Chancellor had arranged a banquet with all his sleazy rich friends, which obviously required the utmost security. They stuffed their faces with delicacies from around the galaxy, until Fox was sure they'd split at their grubby seams. They talked about the state of the galaxy, as if discussing the weather.

"A thousand civilians dead on Lothal from one terrorist bomb. Awful." "Better them than me."

The sound of the laughter made Fox want to clasp a hand around their necks and wait for the gasping giggles to finally cease and to observe the amusement fade from their eyes.

As the evening went on at a snail's pace, they just got drunker and drunker. By that point, they just became even more rowdy than before. The topic of the clones suddenly sprung up in their conversation and Fox prayed to whatever wretched God that's up there for them to not single him, or any of his men stationed in the room, out.

Thankfully, they were all too drunk to tell Fox and his vode apart from droids standing in the background. They had complained and complained and complained for every and any reason they could come up with about the clones fighting across the stars. As their jarring voices spoke "jokes" about leaving clones to rust after the war, Fox held his hands behind his back and dug his nails into his palms so harshly it felt like they ripped through his gloves.

Most clones would think otherwise, but Fox does care about his vode. Cares so much about them that he can't even remember how many brothers he's saved from decomissioning by smuggling them into the gaurd. Even though he has the title of Marshall Commander, Fox is powerless. He may aswell be a shiny. The only thing he can control is how much effort he can put into saving his vode and putting them above everything else. No matter the consequences he'll face.

It took a few days for Fox to calm down after the banquet. For once, paperwork became a welcoming distraction. That is until he became utterly swamped with demands for requisitions that they barely have any money left in their budget for.

"Where are you going?" Thorn had inquired, stood next to the holy grail that is the caf machine.

"Fresh air." Fox ironically said back.

His brothers have most definitely picked up on him leaving the Senate building for a peculiar amount of time, but they have never questioned it. When it comes to Fox, it's better not to question.

Fox runs a hand over his face, staring at the durasteel door infront of him. He punches in the access code and tries to ignore his disheveled appearance in the blurry reflection.

《》《》《》《》

Crash!

You've been watching a pair of squabbling Trandoshans for the past fifteen minutes from your tiny balcony. You let out a small laugh at the sight of one of them smashing his beer bottle on the other's head.

You're hunched over slightly, elbows resting on the metal railing and your right hand occasionally lifts up to bring the burning blunt to your lips.

Your recent quarry was not worth the payment and left you pissed and tired and bruised. You trecked through a swampy wasteland for two days, nearly got eaten by the wildlife and your quarry wasn't as stupid as you hoped. He, she, they, it, whatever it was, managed to land a few good hits.

Atleast when you slammed its decapitated head onto your client's desk, she paid you the agreed price and slid you a box.

"For your troubles." She cryptically said.

You scoffed when you opened it later on your ship and saw a neatly rolled blunt. By the time you slumped into your apartment, shed your armour and provided treatment for your bruises, you put the gift to good use. It's working. You feel numb enough to not feel any pain, but not enough to feel nothing entirely.

You hear the door chime and slide open from further within your apartment and you can't help but grin. Some days you can't help but laugh at the irony of the big bad Marshall Commander Fox falling for a bounty hunter like you. You can just imagine the flustered outrage on all those sleazy politicians' faces if they ever found out.

The glass door screeches open behind you and within seconds a pair of arms slide around your waist and a head of salt and pepper curls leans against your shoulder.

"Evening, officer." A swirl of smoke slips past your lips and you lean back agaisnt his chest, observing the Trandoshans yelling profanities at each other before finally going their separate ways.

Fox releases a heavy huff from behind you, before leaning back slightly as you look over your shoulder. This isn't the worst you've ever seen him, but he still looks rough. He doesn't seem to want you to analyse him for too long, so he presses his slightly chapped lips against your softer ones.

He lazily follows the movement of your lips and that's enough for you to know he's stuck in his own thoughts. You slowly pull away and he blinks his eyes open.

"What's wrong?" You furrow your brows.

Fox let's out another sigh, before saying; "sit with me?"

He lightly drags you over to the singular wooden chair on the balcony and pulls you onto his lap with you back to his chest. You use this moment of silence to take a long drag from your blunt, the embers at the other end glow a vibrant orange when you do so.

"What the hell are you smoking?" You hear the disgust in his voice and can't help but laugh.

"Spice." You reply in a duh tone. "The plant that it's made from is used in medicine, it's supposed to make you feel…floaty."

"Floaty." Fox echoes back, amusement evidence in his voice.

"That's what I said." You recline further into his embrace.

"Does it work?" His hands rest just underneath your undershirt.

"Find out." You raise your hand in offering.

He hesitantly plucks the blunt from your hand and you can imagine him inspecting it as if he's never seen such a thing. You see the glowing embers in the corner of your eyes, before hearing a deep exhale.

"Good?" The blunt is placed back between your fingertips.

"It tastes weird…"

"You don't smoke it for the taste, dingus." You roll your eyes and release a shriek when he pinches your hip.

"What…" his hands ruffle under your shirt, feeling the bacta patches along your torso, "what happened to you?"

"Same old story. Asshole bounty wasn't as stupid as I hoped." You leave it at that. "Besides, you're stalling. What's wrong?" You repeat your question from earlier.

"Nothing worth saying."

"Fox."

"Some of my men and I were tasked with providing security for Palpatine's freinds at a banquet. It was an unwelcome reminder at how society puts all the wrong people in power, let's leave it at that." Fox looks past you as he talks and looks off somewhere in the distance.

"What did they do?" Did they get you, or your men, involved in anything?

"They just talked some banthashit for an hour and a half." Fox replies, distantly. "Anyway, it doesn't matter anymore. I came here to see you, not think about that." He suddenly snaps himself back to the present.

"Aw, you miss me?" You slightly turn in his arms, just enough to face him. "Or do you just miss a good fuck?" You hover your lips just over his.

"The best fuck of my life." He slots his mouth over yours. You reach a hand up to grip his soft curls and the groan you get in return is so delicious. A small surprised sound leaves your lips and Fox wastes no time to deepen the kiss, his hand rests on the slight bulge in your trousers after giving you a squeeze.

Fox's hand slivers up to your buckle and works to unbutton and unzip your trousers. You break away from the kiss that quickly turned sloppy for the requirement of oxygen.

"Aren't I supposed to be the one distracting you?" You lean your head back agaisnt his shoulder.

"You think seeing you moaning and writhing in pleasure while I do whatever I want to you isn't distracting?" His lips skim along your exposed neck. A chocked sound leaves your throat, when he finally clasps a dry hand around you and works it up and down your length.

"Been, hmm, thinking about you all week. Never thought I could think about someone so much." You cut yourself off with a sharp inhale when he twists his wrist around the head of your cock. "Can't even be satisfied when I jerk myself off anymore. You bastard." Fox can't help but laugh agaisnt your neck from where he's been marking his claim on you.

"Im only sorry that I can't be with you all the time, ner mesh'la kyramud. Can't sink my teeth into your jugular, or give you a helping hand when you need it the most." His lips trail from your neck to press agaisnt your ear. "Or fuck you so hard that you won't be able to walk for a week afterwards."

"Fuck, Fox!" You arch your back, feeling your body heat up as red as his armour. Arousal sinks down through your body and makes your cock throb in his hand. Fuck. You're not going to last long.

Fox traces the thick vein running down the under side of your cock and that's all it takes. You cum with a almost obnoxiously loud moan, streaks of cum coat his hand and your shirt. Fox kisses down your neck and over your cheeks as you come down from your high, feeling like jelly in his arms.

"Feeling even more floaty now?" Fox plucks the blunt from your fingertips and takes another drag. You only hum in response, settling further onto his lap and feel the bulge in his trousers.

"Don't get so cocky, Commander, you and I both know how much of a whore you can be aswell." You stand up and turn to face him. Fox tugs you forward with an arm around your waist. He runs the flat of his tongue along your abdomen, cleaning up the mess he made. "F-freak." You voice comes out too shaky for your liking.

"Your freak."

It's safe to say that Fox is willing to make up for lost time tonight and it's safe to say that one of you definitely won't be walking tomorrow.

[meshla-cyarika]

SOMETHING'S PURRING YALL

Can we get more fics about Bryan's other characters and himself please 😔 like I love Connor, Nines and Sixty but i need more. I need someone to shake it up a bit. PLEASE IM BEGGING!!!

[meshla-cyarika]

I NEED THEM BIBLICALLY

BARK BARK BARK BARK BARK BARK BARK BARK BARK BARK BARK BARK BARK BARK BARK BARK BARK BARK BARK BARK BARK BARK BARK BARK

[meshla-cyarika]

My Love, My Life

Pairing: Tech x Jedi!reader

Word count: 1,063

Tags/warnings: angst, grief/mourning, there's alot of signs of autism shown in Tech in this fic but less obvious ones.

Summary: After finding your name in the Imperial obituary, Tech doesn't know how to move on.

A/N: How many aura points do I lose for crying while I wrote this even though it's not that good? I was originally going to have a part two of the reader's perspective where it's reveal that oh my god you're actually alive, but I dont know whether to do that now purely because of how deeply Tech is shown to be grieving and I kinda don't want to take that away from him. Yk what I mean? But if people say they want a part 2 who am I to deny them? Also, yes, the title is based off of that one ABBA song cuz I was listening to it while I wrote this.

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The Marauder was tingling with tension. The genocide of the Jedi, the betrayal of the Empire, the loss of Crosshair and the gain of Omega all happened over the course of twenty-four hours. Everyone had their own reasons to be on edge.

Tech's mind had been on autopilot for days. As soon as he saw what Master Billaba's men did to her and how quickly Crosshair became bloodthirsty for all Jedi, time seemed to stop. He had frantically typed on his datapad to try and find an explanation for such a brutal attack. When Tech saw that it was a full fledged genocide, he swore his heart stopped beating for a second. The only thing that kept him from having a panic attack was his advanced biology.

When they got to the Marauder and fled Kamino, Tech was instantly searching the Imperial database for the list of the dead. He never thought he'd have to check an obituary to find your name, but there you were. Jedi Knight. Executed on Lothal. The reference image they used for you was haunting. To see you stood there, just so alive, with the word executed next to you was enough to make bile stir in his stomach.

It didn't feel real. Tech looked at your information in the obituary again and again and again, but his mind just couldn't process the information. He felt like the only way he could believe you were dead is if he saw your body laying before him and he could never bring himself to do that.

Everyone noticed the difference in their brother. Even Omega, who hadn't even been with them that long, noticed his irregular behaviour. His brothers were puzzled by his reaction to their new living  situation. Out of all of them, Tech should be the least likely to get emotional over this. Then again, change has alway been a problem with Tech. It always takes longer for him to process things like this.

They began working for a trandoshan called Cid to do some seedy work. It was obvious why Hunter made them work for her, obvious to Tech anyway. It was because being sent out on missions that have various conditions is all they ever knew. The concept of settling down on a planet and ignoring the war raging on outside is foreign to them.

It's been ten months, three weeks and five days, since your death. Tech's behaviour hasn't changed and his siblings have assumed it's all because of Crosshair up until this point. Tech had been understanding with Crosshair on Kamino and held only mild hatred for his decision.

No. This is something else entirely.

Hunter's heart aches at seeing his brother's despair and having no idea what's making him feeling this way. Tech being Tech, will never say.

He finally snapped when one of Cid's workers, Phee, persistently kept making moves on him. Tech couldn't help the pure emotion radiating off of him in waves, as he shouted and yelled at the woman. It should be you laughing at his sarcasm, it should be you calling him pet names, it should be you with him. He just wants you and that's the one thing he can't possibly have and it hurts, it makes it feel like his heart has been ripped straight out of chest.

Tech stormed off to the Marauder which was a mistake, because everything in there reminds him of you. Your first kiss on his bunk, your late night conversations in the cockpit, your shared experiments at his desk.

He wants to scream and yell at how unfair everything is. Out of everyone in the galaxy, why you? Why did death have to take you? His perfect cyar'ika who could do no wrong and managed to cling to the little faith you had left through the most devastating battles.

Grief is something Tech has experienced only a handful of times. The feelings still feel new and uncertain and that unnerves him. Tech's emotions are usually filed away in organised compartments that only he understands. Now, everything is overflowing and overlapping. Everything is too much.

It's like a bad dream. He doesn't want to be here anymore. He wants the comfort of a familiar routine, back when his biggest concern was what days him and his cyar'ika would be on shore leave at the same time.

Tech sinks down into the far corner of the bunk room, ripping off his goggles and letting them clatter agaisnt the durasteel floor. He draws his knees up to his chest and wraps his arms around his shins, before leaning his forehead agaisnt his kneecaps.

The last time he found himself in this position was back when he was a cadet. As much as he tried to ignore it, the regs had gotten to him. 99 had found him curled up in the corner of an embryo lab. He had said nothing at first, just sank down next to him and let him know that he was there if he needed him. Tech found himself wondering for years why he couldn't have been like everyone else, why the Kaminoans made his mind work this way. Tech would give anything to be "normal". He never asked for any of this.

A set of footsteps stomp their way up the ramp and Tech doesn't bother looking up. He's prepared for the demanding yells, the overbearing questions and the looks of outrage on his brothers' faces. What he isn't prepared for is someone sliding down the wall next to him. Tech almost flinches at the feeling of someone placing a hand on his back and tenses all the muscles in his body instantly. Eventually, his body goes back to being lax and a shaky sigh leaves Tech's lips, as he leans into his brother's side.

Tech doesn't want to talk about you to his brothers. If he talks about it, then it's real. Your body is rotting on Lothal and he'll never see you again. He can't face the reality of it. It's too real. He can't do it.

The hand on his back rubs soothing circles into his spine. I'm here, if you need me.

Someday, he will tell the tale of his beautiful cyar'ika and you'll become an honoured part of their mismatched family, even though they had never met you. You will forever live on in his heart.

[meshla-cyarika]

You ever think about how Omega got a new crossbow in season 3 then never used it even tho it was on the poster??? God, there was so much missing from season 3 (laughing through the pain at how bad it was)

[meshla-cyarika]

I've had writer's block for my favourite fic for weeks now and it's actually killing me.

[meshla-cyarika]

Public Menace

Pairing: Commander Fox x gn!reader

Word count: 852

Tags/warnings: none

Summary: Fox suffers the consequences of you being bored while on sick leave.

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"Would you stop with the wriggling?" Fox huffs, looking up from his paperwork for the first time in hours. You shuffle on the couch one more time just to irk him.

You're in his office for some rare downtime and Fox is still forcing himself to concentrate on requisition paperwork for the 104th, claiming that he's falling behind in his work. You've been trying your very hardest to distract him for the past two hours, saying that you want your cyare's company during your sick leave. As much as he loves you, which he has assured you of multiple times, he really has alot of work to be doing.

The wriggling, as Fox has put it, is only 50% on purpose. You were chasing a group of thieves through the Coruscant streets with Thorn, when you had taken a nasty fall while wrestling with a pissed off Devaronian. Looking back on it, you find Thorn stressing and worrying over you rather funny, because both of you know Fox would've killed him if he let you die on his watch.

Initially, Fox was fussing over you so much that it nearly gave you a headache, but after a week he started to mellow out. He knows you can handle yourself and that you've dealt with worse injuries. Jewels, a Coruscant Gaurd medic, had told you that you had just bruised some of your ribs and your shoulders, along with a concussion.

"Oh, I'm sorry, you try getting comfortable on a lump ass couch, while suffering from internal bruises." You shoot him a look and he just rolls his eyes at your words, knowing that you're just winding him up.

"If you find it so uncomfortable, why don't you go back to bed?" He says in a much softer tone.

"And leave you here all alone, without any human interaction for the rest of the day?" You arch a brow and he's quick to distract himself by signing off new plastoid for 25% of the 104th instead of meeting your gaze. You know him too well.

"Besides, I've been working on this report for ages." You continue typing away on your datapad.

"The report can wait, you're on leave." Fox says back.

"So can the requisitions." You remark. "May aswell be in a warm, comfortable bed-"

"There's a blanket in the locker, if you're cold." He interrupts you bluntly and you give him a flat look.

Having nothing left to say, silence settles over the room for a few minutes. The thoughts of that blanket are filling your mind. You had brought it for him during the first couple of weeks you were dating, after noticing his habit of sleeping in his office.

A exasperated sigh leaves your lips and you place your datapad on the couch next to you, before painfully bringing yourself to stand. The winces and occasional "ow, fuck" are only partly exaggerated, as you pull out the fluffy red blanket from his locker.

"Urgh, think I'm dying." You mumble quietly, finding a comfortable position on the couch.

"You finished?" Fox arches a brow at you, amused by your attempt at manipulating him to lay with you.

"Everything hurts." You pout at him, tormenting facade finally slipping. Fox gives you a warm smile, standing from his desk to make the few steps to stand by you.

"You're over doing it, sarad." He brings his hands up to hold either side of your face.

"Hurts." Is all you mumble out and he leans down to press a kiss to your forehead. Fox doesn't like seeing you hurt and he knows that you know he doesn't like seeing you hurt because you've gone out of your way to lighten the mood this past week with cheesy jokes.

"Tell me honestly, if I bring my work over here to be with you, are you going to sit still for once?" He tilts your head up to make you meet his eyes. A mischievous smile etches it's way onto your face at his words.

"Of course, I will. What to do you take me for, a public menace?" You arch a brow and he gives you a flat look, before turning away to gather his datapad and documents.

Fox rearranges a few pillows to prop himself up agaisnt, before reclining back agaisnt the armrest. You snuggle up to him with mild discomfort, resting the side of your face agaisnt his chest that's rid of his plastoid for once.

"Love you." You mumble out, eyelids already drooping.

"I gathered." He says back, causing you to pinch him in the side. "Alright! I love you to!" He leans down to place a chaste kiss to the crown of your head.

Five hours later, Stone barges into Fox's office, about to rave on about Hound putting hair dye in his shampoo. What he finds is rather unexpected. So, you finally wore him down, huh? He totally doesn't steal the datapad that's lax in Fox's hold, take a photo of the pair of you blissfully asleep, forward it to Thire, Thorn and Hound, then sets it as Fox's background.