#But Rex was too busy trying not to cry to notice

[mwolf0epsilon]

Several months into the Imperial Era, during a routine job for either Cid or Rex (you can pick which it's not really important), Clone Force 99 end up on a busy Trade HUB city planet similar to either Coruscant or Daiyo.

The streets are bustling with movement and all kinds of legal (and ilegal) activity, and it's somewhat easy to get lost in the crowd and blend in. The group splits up to get affairs done, with Wrecker and Hunter going to talk with an informant, while Tech goes off to shop for parts for the Marauder, and Echo and Omega go shop for other more basic supplies.

Omega ends up wandering off accidentally and gets lost, which almost immediately catches the attention of some less than agreeable folks. She gets cornered in an alleyway and, just when everything seems like it's going to end badly, she gets rescued by two cloaked strangers.

The two ask her if she's ok and if she needs help getting back from wherever it is she came from, which she's apprehensive about at first until she catches a glimpse of their hooded faces. Two clones, both with hairline scars where their chips used to be.

Echo tracks Omega down and is initially alarmed seeing the two strangers talking to her, before Omega notices him and says that she's ok and that the two are friends. That they don't have their chips in anymore. Naturally, Echo demands they identify themselves, which one of them does almost immediately. The one that hesitated when Omega called out Echo's name.

Lo and behold the hoods come off... And it's Fives and Tup under there. Looking just as shocked and bewildered about Echo being alive, as Echo is shocked that **they** are standing before him looking as right as rain.

The reunion is a hesitant frail yet exhilarating thing. With Echo and Fives both not trusting this too good to be true situation, and actively questioning each other on things only the Domino Twins would know, before it fully hits them. This is real. They're both there. They're both alive. They made it.

They hold on to each other for dear life while very openly crying, foreheads pressed together and just letting all of the emotions, the survivor's guilt, the denial, the hope and sibling love flow. Tup and Omega watch on quietly. Let them work it out.

There's going to be a lot of explaining to be done. And Hunter resolves that they call Rex once they can set up a more secure connection because this is great news. The trip back is a bonding experience and a lot of catching up on what they've all gotten up to since the Order went out. They decide to talk about the more extensive details of Fives and Tup's survival once they can talk to Rex.

The mission having gone off without a hitch boosts everyone's mood. And while Tech sets up a call with Rex with Tup's help, the rest of the batch goes off on a small errand to make a quick credit while they wait.

This errand ends... Rather poorly.

They catch the attention of some upstart street gang that ends up trying to rob them, and during a struggle one of them throws an explosive charge at Echo. Fives reacts almost immediately and grabs the charge to toss it away from the twin he'd thought he'd lost to another explosion. It goes off in his grip... Revealing circuity and hydrolics beneath...

Everyone stops.

It's like time itself has frozen as they all stare at the mangled machinery that used to be Fives's arm. Echo is mortified, but not more so than Fives himself who's staring at the mess like it's completely foreign to him. He looks at the others, sees their horror, the fear, the sudden distrust in their eyes, and he backs away. He doesn't know what to say, he doesn't know what this is.

When he looks at Echo specifically, he sees the absolute betrayal in his eyes.

"You're... You're not..." Not Fives, but Echo doesn't finish that inquiry. He doesn't need to. The others are reaching for their holsters, Omega looks at a loss for what to do.

"̴I̷'̸m̸.̸.̷.̴ ̴I̸ ̸a̵m̶ ̵I̷.̴.̵.̷ ̴I̸ ̵h̸a̶v̸e̶ ̶t̸o̵ ̷b̷e̶!̵ ̴I̴ ̴a̴m̵ ̷F̷i̸v̴e̵s̵!̸"̶ The cybernetic imposter calls out, but he doesn't sound like Fives. The blast must have broken something internal, because his voice is a glitchy mess, and that just distresses him further. "̸I̶'̸m̶ ̸r̶e̷a̶l̶.̷.̵.̷ ̶I̶.̶.̷.̵"̶

The machine steps back, clutching the ruined arm with tears in his frightened eyes.

"̸I̵ ̶h̸a̸v̵e̸ ̴t̸o̶ ̵b̴e̸.̵.̵.̷"̷

And then he runs away. Leaving them completely behind.

Echo is a mess. He really thought he had his brother back, but it was some kind of twisted joke. A sick trick of some kind. It's like losing Fives all over again, but there's no time to dwell on it. Tech is alone with Tup who is very likely also an imposter as well. They need to hurry back.

When they return to the Marauder they find Tup strapped to a table and connected to several machines. He looks absolutely distressed, much like Fives had, while Tech is both disturbed and highly fascinated by this entire situation.

While the others were off on their own, Tech had offered to give Tup a medical check-up (since they hadn't had the time to do it before, and it's better to be safe with one's health than to be sorry), only for both of them to get some rather odd readings when Tech did a preliminary scan.

Readings that indicated Tup was not a human, but rather a machine of some kind, which alarmed Tech and put him on the defensive. Tup immediately swears that this can't be possible, that he remembers training as a cadet on Kamino, remembers graduating and joining the 501st, remembers the shitshow that was Umbara, and so on and so forth... That there's no way he's a fake!

Hearing all this, Tech ponders for a while before agreeing to believe him (or at least believing that Tup really didn't know because the other is absolutely terrified). And, so long as they could run a few tests, he'll trust that Tup isn't up to anything insidious.

The tests reveal something very alarming indeed: That Tup is a very soffisticated kind of android designed to perfectly mimic people, and that who's AI was created using a brain scan.

It's also revealed that, upon trying to look back on his very last memory before he and Fives ended up on the run, Tup cannot remember what happened on Ringo Vida. Has no memory of what lead up to the real Tup's death. The scan must have been done right before Tup died, so he'd have nothing to go on other than Fives's word...

Realizing that this is a lot more complex than they immediately assumed (and seeing how freaked out Tup is at discovering he's "not real"), Echo runs off to go find Fives while everyone else is busy with the implications of perfect android imposters.

He's still shaken up about all this. But, seeing how genuinely afraid Tup is, he can't live with the idea of having any version of Fives (not even an AI copy) dealing with this on his own.

Echo knows what it's like to wake up altered in a now barely recognizable galaxy, after all...

He manages to track the damaged (wounded?) android to a very dingy looking public bathroom. Fives is curled up under a sink and, when Echo kneels down in front of him to see if he's ok, he's horrified to find that Fives has ripped off the left side of his face to expose the machinery beneath. He looks heartbroken and so terribly afraid.

"̴I̴'̸m̸ ̷r̴e̷a̷l̵.̷.̵.̷ ̸I̷.̵.̸.̴ ̴I̸'̴m̸ ̴r̵e̸a̵l̷ ̸I̷ ̶p̷r̷o̴m̶i̶s̶e̸.̷.̷.̷"̴ The left side of his face is a horrifying abomination made up of various servos and circuits, the right side a hauntingly lifelike mockery of life.

"̴E̷y̵'̴i̵k̷a̵ ̴I̷ ̶p̷r̵o̷m̴i̸s̵e̸ ̸i̷t̴'̸s̵ ̶m̷e̶.̷.̷.̴ ̷I̶.̸.̸.̷ ̵I̸'̸m̴ ̴F̴i̵v̴e̸s̸!̴ ̷I̵.̴.̶.̷ ̸I̸.̵.̴.̴ ̸I̷'̴m̵ ̸s̴c̵a̸r̷e̵d̸.̷.̶.̴"̵

And Echo believes him.

Because, even if this is a copy, a cheap knockoff, those are still his brother's memories in there. And he's terrified and hurting. He's only ever heard Fives so terribly afraid once, and it still haunts his nightmares to this day.

Echo scoops up his twin into his arms and just holds him while Fives cries his heart out. They'll figure this out. Somehow.

[techmatchmyfreak]

Big Sister's Left Hook

This is in response with the poll I made from this: Omega gets into a fight trying to defend her brothers(parents) from discrimination from the school kids (I know most kids from Pabu are probably angels but for the sake of plot just go with it HAHHAHA) here was the said poll:

CROSSHAIR won the poll and Hunter was second.

But the comments and reblogs often/mostly includes explanation about Crosshair so that's what I would do!

Tagging people who commented and reblogged I hope I won't cause annoyance this is my first time writing for tumblr sorry in advance T_T

Here is the said poll:

Warning: school kids scuffle, little sister defending her brother's honor, unfair treatment by principal, a light threat thingie, a bit of curse words, IDK if I am doing this right LMAO

Tag List: @euphoriacafe @queenothegeeks @covert1ntrovert @badbatch-bitch @disastercyborgecho @littlefeatherr @spicy-tomato-sauce @ffdemon @wolverina2002 @gbgoffic @brittababbles @happydragon

Word Count: 2097

"Echo? Crosshair? Are you busy?" Omega speaks in a meek voice as she shifts her weight from one foot to another.

The two brothers which attention was called looked back from them looking through some date on Echo's datapad about another possible clone prison and Echo was hoping Crosshair has some personal intel about it.

"Yeah Omega we do. How are you? You look worried." Echo spared his little sister a glance as he observes her forlorn, almost embarrassed expression. He went down the ramp of his shuttle followed by Crosshair and approached closer to the kid.

"What's got you looking like that Omega? Any trouble? Can't say Echo won't be proud if you had one." He chuckled and looked with a playful snide at his brother in hand (cause they only both have one natural hand). The stories of his journey(albeit short) are not lost from him and the batch. Rex can only be too happy to share it and get a good laugh from the Batch.

Crosshair is all things but uncaring. He might have missed out years of interaction with the kid, but he guessed(and was proven) that the girl had that power to open up the most guarded person.

"I mean...it depends on how you look at it." The girl pulled out a piece of paper she was hiding behind her back and pushed it infront of the two. And that is when they noticed a few scruffs on her left hand and some on the other one as well.

The sight was not ignored as both of them knelt to her level, Echo pulled the girl's hand and started to ramble questions to the kid asking how he got the injuries while Crosshair unfolded the offending paper. And the more he inspected the content, repeatedly, his squint got worse as an eye involuntary twitched. Fingers slowly crinkled the paper that tighter he holds it.

"Echo, we need to go somewhere tomorrow. But fist, Omega, tell us everything that happened. You know that we won't believe everything that is written here as the only truth, hm?" Crosshair then proceeds to pass the letter to Echo and he settles his left hand on Omega's shoulder, gently encouraging her to look him in the eyes.

Omega often told herself that's she's a big girl and a soldier now so she won't cry that easily. But she's still a child and she is embarrassed especially when she thinks her brothers might not be exactly proud of what transpired on her school. They just got their peace on Pabu after the daring escape from Tantiss and rescuing other clones. She can't be the reason that they get kicked out of the island!

She might have gone to Hunter and Wrecker if only they are not off world and assisting Shep on getting some medical supplies that medical herbs can't suffice with.

"Don't be mad! I didn't really mean it! I tried to ignore it but..." Omega then started to say her side of the story...

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The next day Echo and Crosshair went to the school. Crosshair wanted to go there in his full gear but Echo talked him out of it. That whatever actually transpired yesterday, they should not be imposing even before a discourse even happen.

Omega was already at the school entrance waiting for them, she awkwardly waved at them, still nervous even when she honestly retell to them what happened and assured her that it would be dealt properly.

"The principal was already waiting inside. I am really sorry about this. I didn't mean to-"

"Omega..." Echo rests his flesh hand on the girl's shoulder as his scomp. "You should know that we got your back on this, okay? We are proud of you. And we are just here to take a stand for you, as your brothers, okay?"

Crosshair observes from the side, chewing on a toothpick. "I am not above kicking some kids' shebs, I've done worse." The youngest brother shrugged and spat out the mangled toothpick, preparing to get a fresh one on his side pocket.

"Crosshair...we talked about this..." The ARC Trooper growled a low warning towards his brother.

Crosshair chuckled as if he was the one being in trouble and not his older sister. "Relax Echo, I am just joking. Just trying to ease the poor girl."

Omega led the way to the office of the principal, knocked and meekly announced her presence and her company.

"Omega! There you are with your sibling, come on let's take a seat." The principal gestures for the three of them to seat. The two brothers sat in front of the table while Omega sat a few paces behind in a separate chair.

At this point no words has come out of either Crosshair or Echo, just silently observing the mood for now.

"I am thankful for your acceptance of my invitation. I know your time is very precious and I hate for the kid to miss her classes but I must admit this is a pressing matter."

The principal narrated the same thing the Omega told the two of them already. Except some...details that can raise some brows when one hears of it.

"Please know that I heard Omega's side and I also heard the other kid's side. But the kid said Omega started the fight and she did the beating too hard. The parents kid went this morning and was demanding a public apology in front of the morning assembly-"

"Excuse my words but are they kriffing serious?" Echo was fuming internally at this point. He was willing to apologize on behalf of what Omega did(albeit even he was actually beyond honored by being honored by his sister), but to publicly apologize for it when in the first place it wasn't Omega who instigated it?

"So is the rule in this institution that, whoever gets more beat up, they get favored? Isn't that just flawed?" Crosshair looked back at the increasingly anxious Omega at his back and quickly continued on his critique. "Where's the other party anyway? Shouldn't they be here if they're that confident of their child?"

"Wait it's not what I meant-" The principal tried to interject but was quickly cut off.

"According to your student and parent handbook, you are supposed to punish both parties, but put more emphasis on the instigator. Now why it seems that our sister is the one receiving the short end of the stick? Isn't that just terrific?" Echo tapped firmly at the page of student and parent handbook that he brought with him, further proving his point.

"This might actually fun, we can take this matter to the Mayor and have a council decide on this matter. What do you think? You would get some spotlight as well." Crosshair leaned back on his chair and gave the principal an eat shitting grin. Effectively giving the poor lady cold sweats worth her lifetime.

The principal sigh and put her hands together trying to qualm her own nerves about the borderline threatening happening in this room. "Look, there is no need for that. I am very sorry I mislead you initially. I am just simply saying the entire narrative. And what I am actually supposed to say is that I shut down that idea of those parents as I have the same sentiment as you of that being unfair." She pulled out a sheet of flimsi with a written agreement signed by the other party's parents and kid.

"Omega can you come here please?" The principal gestured for the girl to come at her side and the girl was quick to do so. As soon as she was in reach, she pulled the girl in a hug. "You know that I am proud that you stood up for your brothers, right?"

She paused and waited for Omega's affirmation, which is a slight nod as the girl's face was buried in her neck caused by shame.

The two brothers were unsure of what to feel about the interaction. A few seconds they were ready to throw hands with this principal but it turns out...she's actually on their side?

"But you also acknowledge that violence isn't always the answer, right?"

Omega nods again as she pushed herself enough from the hug, not letting go of her, but just enough to wipes a tear at the corner of her eye. "Yes Ms. (Y/N)."

"Very well my little dove. And I am proud that you are so brave to be honest about this to your brothers. Now... I was actually supposed to give both your punishments today."

"And that is?" Echo asked?

"One day suspension"

"What the kriff you just said-"

At this point the two brothers are ready to run out of the office and throw hands with the little instigator classmate but the principal held out her hand.

"And by suspension I mean getting some flavored shaved ice and grilled meat at the plaza!" Principal play whispered on Omega's ear. "Here a few credits from me and the other teachers but don't tell anyone even your brothers okay?"

Omega was giggling at this point seemingly back at her old self.

Crosshair shook his head lightly at this interaction with a silent chuckle under his breath. Thinking how unusual this woman is for a person of authority.

"Wait what would the other party's consequence?" Echo, now aggravation dissipated, asked the important question.

"Oh I had him sweet under a tree for a whole day and made sure there's no leaf there until dismissal. I have a local elder woman guard the kid to make sure he follows though."

"Isn't that...relatively easy?"

The principal chuckled as she was trying to gesture her fist to Omega as the girl tries to follow the same form, "Oh it's a tamarind tree. The leaved are small enough and its now it's shedding season, I am sure he'll be occupied long enough."

Crosshair and Echo looked at each other and let out a heartfelt chuckle. Beforehand both are ready to talk poodo on some superior, parents and kids but now they're just gonna be laughing about this and they're excited to share this to the two currently absent brothers.

What they heard next though... "Put your thumb outside of your fist when you clench so can avoid bone damage or straining. Your arm movement is great already cause of the energy bow weapon but your torso movement can improve better. I think Vik(the clone from Tantiss) is conducting some martial art training for the cadets and the kids every Saturday morning, he could help with that?"

"I have to ask my brothers if they are okay with that, but I am interested."

She smoothened out the hair of Omega and released her from the hug. She urged her to go to her brothers and start her "punishment" already. She waved them goodbye after she once again apologized for the inconvenience. But before the three crossed the doorway.

"Wait! I almost forgot! Omega can you give this to your brother? He probably left it accidentally in my home last night." She reached out a small paper bag towards the girl. And before the other two can ask what it is, omega pulled out a very familiar and worn out red strip of cloth.

"Yes I will! Hunter would be back at around this evening! Thanks for keeping it safe! I hope the date was fun? He only got home last day for breakfast. You must have enjoyed the night?"

Realization dawned on the principal's face at the comical situation and why she even thought of returning the item in front of HIS brothers wherein she could have just returned it when they crossed paths again. Her face quickly turned warm but tried her best to fight it with a fake cough. "Y-Yeah, we did. Thanks for encouraging him to make his move, he told me what you did. ANYWAYS! I have to do some school rounds in a minute, I hate to take your precious time of suspension. I'llgoaheadokaybye!!!"

And she was out of that door faster than a loth cat would shy away from a bath.

The two brothers are just standing there in silence until Omega urged them to walk out of the room, excited for her "suspension"

Meanwhile the two are still too stunned to speak(if you know this sound bite meme lmao) but would surely tease their Sergeant until he is as red as his bandana that he was too diligent to have left behind an interesting woman.

A/N:

I find this boring IDK comedy might not just be my thing T_T and IDK how to end my stories LMAO.

Inputs are welcome and allowed(just don't be an a-hole i guess)

[montammil]

I really feel like Lawrence would fucking hate my ocs.

Tdlr: I really just started thinking about things while reading your blog. (it's a great blog btw!) So, I told you about my musings.

Ellington- Cause he's 1. too old to be his kid (He's in that 25 rn.)

2. Cause he's already famous, his disappearance would be noticed.

3. He's a busy-body, always out doing something.

4. Ellington is kinda assertive

5. Ellington vapes. (Not often but still!)

He wouldn't be interested unless it somehow leaked, he was struck by lightning twice. {That's about to be a bitch to write!}

Rex-Cause while he's a work-a-holic, he still is too old(25). He's also previously had a wife who's deceased. So, like I think Lawrence would feel too connected emotionally.

Also, Rex is famous too. Just like Ellington they're in a deathcore band.

I can't really see how he'd get along with them unless Lawrence was maybe older. But even then, I feel like Lawrence would be that crotchety (grumpy) old man.

Idk, seeing the Luca & Lawrence story made me really start thinking.

Also, they both dress far more revealing than Marshal. I'm talking them wide ass arm holes, no sleeves and ripped jeans. Mainly darker colors.

Also, while Rex might be receptive to the babying in small small amounts, Ellington wouldn't even like the nicknames. {Imagining Larence calling him Elly in a soft voice makes me want to cry & die from laughter though cause while others typically call him that I imagine it wouldn't be reciprocated. y'know?}

Thinking Rex's quiet nature and him being busy-body in the way of being a work-a-holic would make Lawrence consider it.

Also, I think Lawrence might be touched that Rex while still missing his wife (Middle school besties -> high school sweethearts.) moved on from that life and chooses solitude or quiet nights in with his best friend. (He'd totally buy into their dating rumors until Rex got good and fed up. Then he'd be like oh, so they aren't dating but in denial.

(Canonically they're just very affectionate best friends.)

(1/2)

Sorry if this like makes no sense I am not good at concisely putting things. This is just me thinking too deeply. I just wanted to re state that this is just me thinking and not me writing anything..I think you know what I mean but I wanted to just put that disclaimer cause I haven't ever submitted this kinda thing before.

I think Lawrence would like your OC’s, he’d just view it as a challenge to break them down, and though he can get impatient, he would think it’d be all worth it in the end.

Personally I think Lawrence would take a heavier liking to Rex, but I could still view both of them as potential kidnapping material!

The fact of being 25 would also not be too much of a bother on Lawrence, since current Nathan is also 25 and it doesn’t bother him too much. It’s all about the “mental age” to him. 

That’s why Nathan’s anger and stubbornness are seen as childish traits to Lawrence, which is what makes him feel parental, which I think he might see with Ellington (or even Rex). 

I think I could see him wanting both of them, but that’s mainly if they form a connection with him and show vulnerability around him (whether they mean to or not).

Some other things I’d like to add is, Lawrence would hate the fact Ellington vapes, but Nathan smoked, so he’d try to look past the vaping. He has a savior complex, so he’d view it as “saving him from himself”.

Your OCs sound awesome, by the way!! From the way you described both of them, they sound so cool! Feel free if you ever want to share your works with me, privately or not :D

If you decide to write something with Lawrence in it with your OC’s, please don’t be afraid to!! Don’t even be afraid if it’s a little ooc, write him how you perceive him! 

And if not, I still really enjoyed reading this!!

[lume-nescence]

A Dream Never Meant to Transpire

Jean x Gn!Reader

summary: jean, a woman drowned in her work. watching over the city, running errands, all of that. she seems to be a diligent woman, taking great care of the citizens of mondstadt. all of this, but she forgot one important thing

an: okay, i shouldn’t be consuming sad songs so much because they somehow shove a brainrot down my throat. i was listening to a mashup between glimpse of us and pluto projector and i haven’t recovered ever since. i love you jean but this brainrot is holding me hostage,, this has been benched for quite some time because, again, angst fics hurt. but i know in the future i may write more angst fics so i should be strong for that jshjahiahi (took some time to look at her lore for a bit and it fits even more with this concept im going to cry)

pronouns: you/your

song inspo: glimpse of us (joji) x pluto projector (rex orange county)

genre: angst, oneshot

cw: not proofread, mild spoilers of jean’s story??, argument leading to breakup :( (apologies for any inaccuracy in regards to her lore!! and for future uploads this aligns with those as well!!)

You crept down the streets of Mondstadt, slowly making your way to an area where nobody could hear or see you. You looked around to double check if nobody’s where you are and once you’re set, you sighed to yourself.

“So much for the city of freedom.” You looked down at your left hand, opening it to a palm only to close it into a fist. With gritted teeth, you slumped yourself down onto the grass; tears threatening to spill. You feel your throat burning.

“Why did it have to end this way? Why’d you have to..” You didn’t have the heart to finish your sentence. You know Jean; she’s a busy woman. Having to devote herself to Mondstadt is a big responsibility. Even as far as helping people in need despite it wearying her out. Well, the people are in her hands now. And they all rely on her.

She’s the Acting Grand Master, the Dandelion Knight. Dandelion Knight; a title to symbolize Venessa’s legacy. A title passed down from generation to generation. And Acting Grand Master, an important job given to her by the previous title holder Varka due to an expedition. Though, it was a big responsibility given too easily. But even so, Jean longs to be an honorable swordswoman, to be able to fight for her people with bravery. So she holds these titles close to her heart. But why not you?

Why didn’t she hold you close to her heart? This question spirals in your head. You rethink the events that happened before you chose to walk out and isolate yourself from the world for a while.

Finding yourself in front of Jean’s office you’re excited to see her again. You’ve missed her so much and you were just told the news that she’s back from a commission from afar and is currently residing in her office.

You being too excited to see your girlfriend you opened the door to be greeted with a Jean with her head down in tons of paperwork. Her not expecting any visitors shot her head up to see you.

“Y/n..? What are you doing here?” She groggily asked.

You closed the door behind you and walked towards her desk. “To come visit you of course. You look exhausted again.. What did I tell you to not overwork yourself to the point you’re about to fall asleep on the spot?”

You see Jean look to her side. “Well, it has been very busy lately. And I have told you that I have bigger responsibilities to be dealt with didn’t I? Nobody can do these besides me.” She responded, with a hint of apathy laced within it. Had you not listen carefully you would’ve never noticed it.

Your eyes widened. Not once had your girlfriend respond to you like that. She’s usually kind, her words as soft as a cloud. But now it’s different. Words classifying as a lightning bolt that they’re able to strike down countless fluffy cumulus clouds.

“Huh? What’s up with you today? I didn’t mean to sound insensitive at all I was just trying to help you.”

“There’s nothing wrong with me.” She sighs. “You have nothing to worry about, dear.”

Now you start to feel taken aback. You do have something to worry about. It’s her and her overworking self!

“Oh I do have something to worry about.” You slammed your hand onto her desk, startling her awake to face you with widened eyes. “It’s you! Do you not have the time to be with me anymore? Because you’re so latched up with your duties you start to forget about me?”

Jean rises up to directly look at you. “Y/n, I have a city to look after! Don’t you see? This isn’t some ordinary errand. This is a duty I have to strive for to my fullest extent! If I do this carelessly, who knows what’ll happen to the citizens.” She replied, raising her voice.

“So you mean you don’t care about me anymore?” Jean froze. “You have your priorities mixed up you know. Need I remind you that we’re. in. a. relationship. I spare time to be with you, but you haven’t done the same for me. I have the effort to come down here to see you and no matter how many times I’ve tried to get you to take a break you don’t. I was happy to see you. Every time.” Your voice started to crack and you looked down on her desk with all of her papers scattered around.

“I know you’re trying to ensure the safety of this city but,” You looked back up to see her with an agitated expression. “You seem to forget your end to ensure our bond to be in good shape.”

You turned away, walking away without saying another word. As much as you hate to admit it you don’t think you can continue to stabilize the relationship by yourself. Besides, Jean pretty much has the whole city on her back. So this was a good decision, right?

“Y/n! Please wait!” She reached her hand out to you but to no avail you didn’t look back. All you did was say the following words:

“I’m sorry, but I think we should stop right here. You can continue to muse yourself in your paperwork or whatever. I’ll not disturb you anymore.” And with that, you walked out the door and closed it behind you. Leaving Jean in her thoughts.

She didn’t know how to feel. She could feel an unnerving amount of desolation thrown upon her after she saw you leave.

Jean slowly sat down on her chair until bringing her hands to massage her temples. Closing her eyes, and visualizing what your relationship with her would look like without any worries in the world.

She could see a glimpse of you both sitting underneath the tree in Windrise; feeling the winds flow through. Happily chatting away to pass the time. With no work to be done.

Jean would do anything to make that happen in real life. But unfortunately fate isn’t on her side. Not today, not now.

She opened her eyes and looked at her shelf of romance novels. Her eyes widened and she got up to take one out of her shelf; ignoring the paperwork. She looked at the book with tears in her eyes and held it close to her chest, hugging it.

She dreamed of finding a partner she could call hers, to be at peace with one another. To be in eye contact with her partner as flowers dance around them. To be holding their hands and be safe just by the intimate action.

This could’ve happened if Jean took atleast one day off. If she weren’t this busy, you wouldn’t have left. If she made time to be with you, you would’ve been delighted. If she wasn’t a hardcore workaholic, she would’ve spent more time with you.

But the sad reality is that there’s nothing she can do to change the past. And after your departure, the damage’s been done. The cherry on top.

All good stories have to end somehow, be it good or bad. But alas, Jean got a bad ending to her own romance story. An ending she never wanted in the first place.

[blackkatmagic]

Fox: Sir, is there anything else you can tell us about your attacker?

Bail, pretending to think about it: Well, he did complain a lot about sand.

Fox: I'm sorry, sir. Sand?

Leia, my love, absolutely ride or die: Oh, yeah, you would not believe the amount of time spent just complaining about sand.

Fox: ...

Fox: Give me one moment to check on something.

Fox, retreats a little distance aways: Rex. Rex, com in.

Rex: I'm on leave what do you want.

Fox: Rex, did your General have an unexplainable leave of absence recently?

Rex, knowing full well Anakin left with Padme back to Naboo and just came back yesterday, knowing he can't say anything about it: ....nooooo?

Fox: Rex. Why does that sound like a question.

Oh my god, putting Rex on the spot is the best/worst thing Fox could do, I'm crying. Poor Rex, about to be responsible for his general's arrest for kidnapping and too busy trying not to trip over his own tongue to notice.

[versadies]

Hello!! I just read your Zhongli and Xiao poly headcannons and its just 🤌💖💖💖

I was wondering if youre willing to do Zhongli and Childe poly with a GN! reader perhaps? ;;w;; Maybe how they managed to pull reader into that wild mess haha

But regardless keep up the good work!!~ 💖

penpal: aww thank u so much, im glad you like my poly hc on xiao and zhongli! and can i just say omg what an even more chaotic pair 😳😳😳

warning/s: spoilers on archon quest (chapter one) and childe’s story quest, reader has a role (adventurer), not proof-read, wearing, and ooc (?)

when you suggest a poly relationship:

-> it was hilarious when you three didn’t date yet.

-> listen, childe would literally be in a one-sided rivalry with zhongli— who isn’t even aware of this rivalry.

-> i honestly can see you and zhongli being friends for quite a while and he wouldn’t realize his feelings until childe comes in the picture and tries to woo you.

-> zhongli would have a hard time trying to figure out his feelings for you while childe is busy flirting with you. you’ll either be (or try to act) obvlivious or think childe’s flirting is just harmless flirting with no meaning to it.

-> basically, your pre-relationship is just complicated and full of misunderstandings.

-> once zhongli actually figures out his feelings, he’ll try to learn more on romance given that he’s very inexperienced with it and will plan on confessing his feelings to you.

-> when childe actually finds out about zhongli trying to confess to you— he’ll literally do so many things to make zhongli not try to confront you such as distracting you, have the wangsheng funeral parlor keep him busy, etc.

-> you’d caught on to childe’s scheming so you have to go confront zhongli yourself.

-> for some reason though— it ended up with both of them confessing you on the spot and let you choose who to be with in this scenario.

-> which resulted in you suggesting a poly relationship

when they’re the one who suggest it:

-> childe and zhongli have a... unique relationship per say.

-> in this scenario, i honestly see childe still being in a one-sided rivalry with zhongli when it comes to winning your heart.

-> for zhongli, he’s still unsure of his feelings but he’ll figure out later on that he wants to be more than just friends with you.

-> he’ll actually notice on how childe is starting to be more.. affectionate with you and just shrug it off as harmless. however, zhongli will start to notice how childe’s flirting has a hint of desperation and seriousness.

-> once childe finds out that zhongli is in love with you too, he’ll not do the same thing that he did in the scenario above— instead, he’ll actually confront zhongli about it.

-> i can actually see childe suggesting a fight and the person who wins will confess to you— but he knows it’s no use. he knows what zhongli is capable of given that he’s rex lapis, the previous god of war and the fact that childe is still recovering from using his legacy form in the teucer incident makes him know that the fight won’t end well.

-> i honestly think childe would make a “contract” with zhongli in confessing to you at the same time and if you don’t choose the other, they have to back off. obviously, zhongli would accept the contract given that he’s the god of contracts and all.

-> so this led to them confessing you in one of the best destination spots of liyue.

-> if you admit that you don’t actually know who to choose, then zhongli would suggest in trying out a poly relationship.

-> i honestly think childe would be against a poly relationship with you and zhongli since he immediately thinks of how chaotic it would be— but if you accept in trying, then childe might as well accept.

what it’s like to be in a poly rel. with them:

-> at first, it was a bit... awkward. neither of y’all don’t know what to do with the relationship but after a while, the three of you would went with the flow.

-> as i mentioned in my prev headcanons that has zhongli, he is inexperienced in dating and affection. he’s stiff when you give him hugs and kisses at first. however, after learning from childe, he would start holding your hand or give you forehead kisses (with permission ofc, this is zhongli we’re talking about).

-> childe is probably the most open when it comes to affection. he’ll always give you a hug or kiss whenever you’re around. he’ll even hug you and zhongli together if he’s in a happy mood.

-> while childe is the most open, zhongli is the most caring. if one of y’all have a hard time sleeping, he’ll get out from bed and make tea that helps you sleep. he’ll also make sure you and childe have eaten well and will happily try to take care of your injuries.

-> when it comes to dates— it’s laidback and partially adventurous. most of your dates always takes place in wanmin restaurant but on special occassions, it’s somewhere out from liyue harbor.

-> as for the public, neither of you really care if the whole nation heard winds of your relationship. childe would most likely prefer to keep his relationship with you and zhongli a secret given that he’s a part of the fatui.

-> speaking of fatui...

-> childe will not tell you anything about the fatui at all. zhongli may have dealt with the fatui as well but that does not mean he’ll tell you what he knows as well (not after a secret contract childe made with him during your first days of your relationship).

-> childe’s reason is that he does not want you to see his.. scary side. even though you know his potential along with the fatui’s, he never tells you his lust for battles. whenever you go on adventures with him, he’ll literally keep his insane addiction to fighting in stability in fear of making you run away from him and never talk to him.

-> he knows you would never be afraid fo him, yet he couldn’t help but just keep this side a secret just in case.

-> fights with them are seldom. the only fights you’ve fought is with childe and zhongli would be the peacemaker between you two. most of your arguments were about how careless the both of you are when it comes to adventuring or fighting enemies. thankfully none of the fights is very serious— just you and childe lecturing (angrily) back to back.

-> whenever you’re sad, they’ll do whatever they can to make you happy. whether it’d be childe making his wallet crying by buying your favorite foods and things, zhongli giving you the best hugs, or both taking you to a place with a comforting atmosphere.

-> whoever made you sad needs to run because they will get their ass kicked by a god and one of the most feared people in the fatui.

-> when it comes to joining you on your adventures, childe will be very happy to kill every single enemy by your side while zhongli would make sure the both of you are protected with his shields.

-> picnic dates picnic dates picnic dates—

-> the three of you are the literal definition of teamwork when it comes to adventuring around teyvat. your team is the kind that all adventurers want.

-> if you get hurt— oof rip to the enemy who hurt you because that’s the last time they’ll ever do before a hugeass whale and a fucking meteor crashed down on the enemy.

-> if one of them got hurt— oof rip to the enemy because they’ll get their ass kicked by an angry adventurer who just wanted to spend time with their boyfriends.

-> when it comes to being jealous, it’s childe who mostly gets jealous. if it weren’t for zhongli, childe would’ve ruined a lot of careers. he’s actually fine if someone flirts with you cuz hey, you’re hot and who knows, maybe the person will offer you a free drink!

-> however, should the person make you uncomfortable, childe’s carefree attitude went 0 and won’t hesitate to try to break the person’s arm if they won’t leave you alone. please pray that zhongli has childe’s back and won’t get you all in trouble for childe breaking someone’s bones.

-> one of the cons of your relationship with these two is they’re busy.

-> i honestly think that childe would be distant. since the fatui got what they wanted from zhongli, he’ll need to be sent back to snezhnaya for another task. he’ll def write letters to you and zhongli and send them every week— even if he’s too busy, he’ll find time to write them just so you two know he’s okay.

-> on regular days, it’ll just be you and zhongli— but then again, there were some days when zhongli would be busy as well due to his job. don’t worry, he’ll be with you by the end of the day and make up for his super busy schedule with cuddles and stories you’ve never heard of!

-> despite them being busy, they’ll actually try everything they can to speed things up just so they can go back to you. if childe has the chance, he would take you and zhongli to snezhnaya and meet his family while he’s doing harbringer works there— hell, he’ll even quit his harbringer work and join your adventure team if he could.

-> of course, as an adventurer— you are also busy with your commissions.

-> sometimes, you’d be gone for the whole day and come back home the next day. it’s not something these two aren’t used to but they do tend to worry whenever you’re gone for more than 2 days.

-> they’ll definitely be more clingy or affectionate when you go back to them from a long trip.

-> every time childe announces in his letters that he’ll go back to liyue, you and zhongli will immediately go visit to the docks and wait for a snezhnayan ship to appear. childe will literally be knocked out from you tackling him with a hug the moment he comes out from the ship.

-> after that sweet reunite, you and zhongli will definitely take him to wanmin restaurant and talk about what you two did while he was gone. childe will also make sure no fatui agent won’t bother you three when times like this happens

-> time is very precious in your relationship. you three really don’t get to be together everyday but whenever you can, you cherish your time.

[x-childish-x]

(part 1) i am loving these anakin x mother figure concepts 😄 could i also request one haha, after order 66 reader survives and becomes a grey jedi. while on a mission, she runs into darth vader. they fight for a little bit, but soon stop after they recognize each other through the force. surprisingly, vader isn’t hostile towards her while they talk, but he’s not calm either. reader refuses to keep calling him vader. after their convo reader slowly approaches him and

Something You're Not

Pairing: Darth Vader x fem!reader

Fandom: Star Wars

Warnings: Darth Vader, female!reader, mother figure!reader, crying, mentions to feeling like a failure, fighting, mentions to Order 66

Word Count: 1,352

A/N: Hello lovely! Wow I loved writing this request! First Darth Vader request, woo! It was so fun to write because the entire time I felt I could see this all playing out! Thank you for the request and support! I appreciate it so much! Feedback is always welcome and appreciated, I really hope that you all enjoy this one!!

Summary: You finally reach the force signature that had been reaching out with you for weeks, only to realize it's none other than Darth Vader, the boy you once raised.

PART TWO, PART THREE, PART FOUR

(gif! not mine!)

"Rex, take care of Ahsoka for me... I know how badly she wants to be on this mission. I can't risk it," you mumbled through the holo-comm as you carefully landed your ship.

"You know I always will. She's busy with Ezra right now anyways, so hopefully, he'll keep her mind occupied. Just be safe. If this is Maul, we need to know why he's been reaching out to you," Rex replied, his voice sounding tired.

You sighed, clicking everything off before standing, "Don't worry, Rex. It'll work out. I'll be home within a rotation."

"You better be," Rex joked lightly, "Be safe (y/n). May the force be with you."

"And with you."

Clicking off the holo-comm and leaving it on the ship, you quickly set off outside. Pulling up the hood on your grey cloak, you looked around cautiously, taking in your surroundings and using the force to reach out.

You could feel the dark side of the force more prominently now that you were here. It was almost strong enough to make out a force signature, but not completely. Despite the fact you still seemed far away from the dark force energy, it felt incredibly familiar, and that was what lead you to believe it was Maul. After all, he was the only Sith whose force signature you were familiar with.

It didn't take long for you to find the correct path leading to the Sith. Following the dark force signature proved to be an easy task for you. You trekked through the forest for what felt like hours. You carefully avoided all unknown plants and made sure to keep your presence as obscure as possible. You were using the force to the best advantage you could, mapping out your path while still trying to identify the oddly familiar Sith signature.

Finally breaking out into a clearing, you held your breath at the sight of Darth Vader's back. His cloak swooshed in the light breeze as you watched him, quickly thinking over everything you'd ever heard about him. You felt like you were in a holo-film, at the big climax moment when you face off the main villain. Fog would be piling in, surrounding you and Darth Vader as you prepare to fight.

Undoubtedly he knew you were there, and despite the fact, the two of you had never encountered each other before, your force signatures were incredibly familiar. Dancing around each other like fawns, trying to figure out why the unknown was so incredibly welcoming, like coming back to an old friend.

"I did not know you'd survived Order 66," Vader's ominous voice broke through the silence, venom, and hatred surrounding each word.

Slowly you stepped out from the faint protection of the trees, "It wasn't of my knowledge that you even knew me."

"I don't," Vader replied curtly, allowing a pause as your signatures moved around one another, "You're a Jedi unaccounted for."

"I prefer it that way," You snarled.

Dashing forward at the same moment Vader's force signature delivered a harsh prod to your own, you unsheathed your lightsaber. Leaping into the air and slashing down on Vader's back, you made contact with his lightsaber, sparks of grey and red dancing in the calm aura of the planet. He was quick to spin and send a counter swing at you, but you blocked it quickly. You locked sabers and spun him around, doing your best to throw him off.

Despite the situation of your fighting, you found each other still dancing within the force, trying to identify each other's signature. Your fighting was incredibly familiar to him, and his defense was familiar to you. Akin to a thunderstorm, you both fought quickly and powerfully. Neither obtaining the upper hand, you matched perfectly clash after clash, block after block.

Your fierce fighting was like a tornado destroying a small town. The planet around you was calm and peaceful, undisturbed by the fight for life you'd engaged yourself in. It certainly wasn't Maul who'd been trying to connect with you over the past weeks, and you found yourself wishing that it had been the Dathomirian instead. You'd overcome enough and lost too much to not give up now.

Finally flipping away, your hood fell as your force signatures connected, a gasp tumbling from your lips, "Anakin?"

"Master (y/l/n)," Vader responded softly.

A silence fell as you stared at one another. Of course, he was familiar. You trained Anakin, helped Obi-Wan raise him. You'd been Anakin's mom ever since he'd joined the Jedi, and he, your son. You'd assumed he'd died in Order 66, as Obi-Wan refused to talk to you. But now, staring across at Anakin in Vader's armor, you felt more like a failure than you'd ever had.

"You traded the purple for grey," Vader noted, causing you to look down at your blade.

Looking up at Anakin, you fought to keep your voice strong, "You traded blue for red, Ani."

"Anakin's dead," He snarled, turning off his lightsaber.

You mocked his actions, tilting your head slightly, "If Vader was here, he would've killed me already, Anakin."

"I am Vader! My name is Vader," The man huffed, "I killed Anakin myself!"

You shook your head, "I will not call you something you're not, Anakin. I trained you to be honest... true to yourself and your emotions. I will do the same now."

Vader seemed to falter, his hands repeatedly clenched and unclenched. The soft whir of machinery filled the air as you stared at the man in front of you. You took a step forward slowly, your eyes filling with remorse as you used the force to search through Anakin.

"What'd they do to you, my sweet Ani?" You whispered, "Why didn't you come to me? I could've helped you."

"Nobody could've helped him!" Anakin raged, yelling in anger that seemed directed at himself, "He was lost! Gone! Anakin would've died regardless! I, Vader, would've killed him regardless!"

"No," You mumbled, looking around at the planet you'd been called to, "You wouldn't have died, Ani. It would've been like any other mission, any other obstacle before. I would've helped you get through it, like always."

"Anakin is dead!" Vader cried out, his voice breaking, a hint of desperation sneaking through, "He's gone."

Slowly, you stepped forward, watching the way Anakin's chest rose and fell with each mechanical breath, "No... you're not gone, Anakin. You're not gone, and like all the times before, I'll be waiting to help you."

Taking in a deep breath, you anxiously wrapped your arms around Anakin, noticing how much taller he was. His arms remained by his side in shock, trying to sort out his emotions. Anakin's mechanical breathing filled your ears as you squeezed the boy you raised. Tears fell down your cheeks as you held him to your chest, wishing you had been able to help him. Wishing you'd stayed by Anakin more during the Clone Wars. Wishing that you could turn back time and save the little boy you loved so much.

Squeezing tighter for a brief second, you whispered, "I love you, no matter what, Anakin."

Letting go of the man, you stepped back quickly, hoping that the powerful Sith Lord hadn't seen your tears. But you knew that you'd been too slow, and you knew Anakin knew you better than that. Watching as you walked back and disappeared into the trees you'd come from, Darth Vader wondered if he would ever see you again. He'd reached out to you for weeks, and he wondered now if you would ever reach out to him, remind him you were still alive, waiting for Anakin to return.

Boarding your shuttle, you let out a cry as you reached for your comm. There were so many regrets you held and so much you wished you would've done. But the past was not something you could dwell on. You could only hope that you'd been able to reach Anakin quickly enough.

"Rex?" You called weakly into the comm. You waited patiently for Rex's reply until you heard your name called worriedly, "I'm coming home."

Taglist: @nowthisisdark

[imalwaystiredzzz]

C5: Sisyphus happy. Yan Zhongli x Reader

#genshin x reader

Warning: Yandere behavior, unhealthy relationships

< Sisyphus happy chapters >

Once, from a time long before records and memories were written on ink and paper, Morax walked upon vast lands rich in history, watered by tears of tragedy and love lost. He turns to an old woman who stood before her destroyed village, eyes downcast and hollow on bodies drowned by the war of an unrelenting sea and the mountain that does not bow. 

Morax did not understand, maybe once when he had held a goddess’ body to his own, but to him that was one thing and this is another. This is love of a mortal that does not even know who the child that cried next door nor the man that walked past their door, this is to love a complete stranger and the love that Guizhong once had when she was still by his side.

“What must I do to learn the love of mortals?” He asks, voice devoid of emotion; genuine curiosity and the hope to understand beneath.  

The old woman smiled, warm and full of wisdom as if her short years were thousands compared to the god. “To love mortals, one must sacrifice eternity and learn of the passing time. Of death and partings. The gods have forgotten that they may live long but even you have an end, it is the same thing that pains us yet we find delight in.”

He didn’t understand then, those words ring true and wise as Cloud Retainer’s advice to his ears on leading the people that he had now to care for. Even so, he still finds himself wondering, “What would Guizhong have done?”

In his heart, he knows that she would’ve understood and took a moment to explain; unlike the way time leaves nothing but confusion in its wake, only pondering and no straight answers?

Even as hundreds of years pass, when all that remains of that old woman is nothing but ashes on the soil and the land had been turned to marsh, the people traveling and settling in a mountain, and the war marching on to its bloody conclusion; Morax found that answer to be much like the dumbbell that he may never come to solve. 

But once more, reminiscent of his unexamined love with the goddess had bloomed too late, fate had played him right into its hands. 

Because the answer had come in the form of you- still a child, a bud in the nursery of glaze lilies under the morning sun. You and your small hands that gripped the end of his robes, with teary eyes that looked at the dying people and held these strangers hand in their last breath with as much intensity for a small comfort to let them know they did not die alone.

“Will the war end soon?” Your small voice asked him, even Mountain Shaper had not the stomach to look at a child’s plea for peace and spout lies.

“I am trying to end it, as fast as I can.” 

“Then this is for you.” You reached into your pocket and gave him a dried glazed lily contained in glass, “thank you for trying though we cannot give much back.” You bow, as courtesy knowing that you had just talked to the very god that protected the lands you step on and ran back to the shack that housed the sick and injured, your parents much too busy to notice you had snuck out. 

Blissfully unaware that the god of geo, gripping the gift in between his hands, amber eyes following your form and telling himself that humans have much to learn and yet they surprise him nonetheless, just like as his love used to tell him.

But even answers are confusing, much like a child who asks why is 1+1=2 and the process of it, he didn’t understand till he saw you once more. Not yet a lady but not quite the child that you used to be. Now you are the girl who provides healing, growing up to be a herbalist like your mother and no longer simply holding a basket of them for your father. Carefully, with your mortal hands you comfort the injured beyond salvation as the calamities of gods that hold much power rages on. 

Surrounded by dying men of the war, miasma, curses and death lurking in the air, in his eyes you remained untouched. Unblemished, as if the air in your little bubble had been purified by innocence and unconditional love for the crowd of strangers, neither pitying them for death nor numb to their tragedy. Then for a second he thought he saw her - the glaze lilies and the goddess that he loved so much and he begins to wonder if she’s come back to him through you.

“I should thank you for treating the wounded.” He tells the man before him, the bags of herbs laying behind his form and a sigil in hand, “use this in times of need, when the people are crying and I am away, surely the adeptis are quick to answer and would not turn you away.” 

“My lord, Rex Lapis, there is no need to thank us. Knowing that you protect the people is enough, we are just a family of healers who help the ones in need.” Your father was a grateful man, and he can see where you get your eyes, especially your kind heart who reaches out to those in need, not because he seeks power or his blessings.

“Even so, Liyue will remember your kindness but none more so than I, Rex Lapis.” 

He does not know if you remember him nor what you did, only that when he dons a mortal face to take a walk in the calms before the storm, he finds himself wandering to your garden, mostly on cold nights where you would just sing to the lilies and watch them, with unfading enchantment, bloom. 

In a distant memory of an old lover, he hears the same voice but now there stood you. Now a lady, barely a woman with your innocence and mischief.

And he knows that this is wrong, mortals are fleeting as the dust, that he can never grasp with his two hands. Wherever his heart is on anything, other than Liyue, it only ends in tragedy. And oh, how ironic of it all that if you really were his goddess that had found her way back to him, why this form? Why a mortal who is a flower that will wither compared to a mountain that does not crumble?

“It’s a beautiful song, pardon me for interrupting but may I know where you have learned it?”

“Only if you tell me what the god of earth is doing in a place like this, barely even concealed?” Playful, you smile at him playfully as if you knew all the time that he had spent staring from afar and he was not an immortal that could smite the very life out of those pretty eyes.

“The breeze carried your voice and I wondered where you had learned to entice it to your will.” He couldn’t really put a finger when it began, when your singing had lured him like a siren to the depth of the sea.

“You befriend the wind, unlike the earth, you do not command rather ask of it like a companion,” was your simple answer and he smiles like he has found something long lost. You drown him in your presence, but he is not breathless; rather he sighs filled with curiosity like a child who has more to learn from the world that he had been in for thousands of years. 

You who had rekindled a reason for his actions, much like Guizhong. This love does not ruffle his heart out of his rib cage, the dust settles and it is as calm as you talking about herbs in this small patch of garden late at night and as calm as the things settle falling into place in his beloved city by the gentle waves of the sea.

“What happened to them after?” You ask your husband, the snow falls outside and you are oh so exhausted to the bone as if the cold had taken all your warmth. He smiles and brushes your cheeks that lost their flush and your skin cold as a corpse, his arms glows gold in the intricate cracks, and you know that this is a bedtime story - though not quite for the night but for the long winter.  

The memory scratches at the back of your mind to be remembered, but a part of you warns that you wouldn’t like how it ends. 

“According to the books, the lord of geo took his love to the heavens.” He finishes with a chuckle of the irony in it all, a kiss to your temple as your eyes drop, heavy and slumber dragging you to its clutches.

Then finally, Zhongli smiles to bid you goodnight.

He watches you sleep soundly. Sleep if humans can even call it that with the lack of breathing, as still as a corpse that had died peacefully in bed while he is left to wonder of a future that had things ended the way his winter story did.

War ensures losts. Victories demand sacrifices. And the price to pay was always his love.

Zhongli would like to believe that had you died of a natural cause: sickness, accident or of old age where he would have held your aging body, he could’ve had the strength to let you pass on.

Rex Lapis would have had your funeral handled by the esteemed WangSheng, and took your passing as another promise to meet on the other side.

But Morax knows, he could never really.

Never let you go, even after thousands of years and all that you know had returned to the soil. Even when the truths of history had been forgotten by the people and you are nothing but a distant whisper to this land, a footnote to his folklore.

Not even now, when every winter is a reminder of the way he held your cold body against his chest, “I worry about you.” You told him with a supposed to be parting smile, how pitiful must he be for a dying mortal that had not even lived half their life to worry about him. 

“Why are you saying goodbye, my love? You aren’t supposed to say goodbye, not yet. It’s much too early,” He tells you with a broken laugh, the war is over like you had asked of him the first time. He is an archcon, the land is his to rule and care, and you are supposed to live many many peaceful years with him, but here you are the embers of war digs its claws in your frail body and had robbed you of life.

 Why does the war take and take and take and he who fights only lose things that he keeps to heart? 

He doesn’t relent, even if it means breaking the laws of nature itself.

Even when you wake in spring, and you look at him with those empty eyes and ask who he is. At Least you’re here, still there somewhere and it might take thousands of years and more, when the mountain has crumbled against time, one day he believes that you will wake again with love in your lips and warmth in your hands.

[bored-storyteller]

@severnrose honey, I shouldn't have preferences but how could I wait to write for you and Xiao?

Dear Xiao, sweet Xiao, thank you for asking, I have good reasons to love you :3

60- Genshin Impact, Xiao x Reader (angst/comfort)

From the prompt list

17- "Am I the reason you cry every night?"

33- "Do you know how it feels to wish for death every day?"

For Xiao you are like a little sparrow, so fragile and so free at the same time. He never understood what bad star forced you to meet with him, it was something so unlikely that it might have seemed ironic, but still he never tried to put you in a cage. You didn't deserve it. Sure, you're an absurd being, sometimes annoying, sometimes inconsistent and stupid, but you're also something he never bothered to find, a free kindness and a relief he always knew he didn't deserve.

So he never wanted to condemn you to a relationship with someone like him.

For this reason, when the darkness inside him had become heavier, when he realized he had gone too far, he pushed your worried eyes away from him. It was his job to protect you too, and he hadn't noticed the wound he had inflicted on you.

He is never too kind with words, he doesn't talk much and when he does he is never able to sweeten his sentences. It has always gone well with you.

Yet this time something was different; maybe he had been worse without realizing it, or maybe you were more fragile than usual, but he immediately opened a cruel door in front of you and a wave of awareness hit you. Yes, you were nothing but a burden to him.

Xiao hadn't seen you since that day. Or rather, he had happened to see you around, as always, doing your chores, helping where there was need, but he had no longer had the opportunity to be with you, alone, as you used to do from time to time, maybe in the evening, under the stars.

Initially he hadn't done anything, he hadn't thought of anything either. You were simply too busy, as he was, on the other hand.

But one night, about to give way to the morning, while he was checking his wounds, your sobs had come to him, and so did the next night, and the one after that.

He found himself listening to your silent cry every night, and he watched over you, albeit from a distance. And when he reluctantly had to walk away, he cursed anyone who caused you that unspoken suffering. If only you wanted to tell him he would be ready to protect you, again. But again, you were a fragile, free little bird, and he wasn't enough for you, he wasn't enough to take the pain away from your heart. Someday in the near future that would pass, everything passes for mortals, and maybe he could see you smiling again under the stars. This was what he believed - or hoped for.

But in one of those dark moments, your call rang in his ears and vibrated in his bowels. Wherever he was, he recognized his name spoken by you, in the agony of your nights.

He had joined you immediately, he had immediately appeared there, standing at your bedside.

Your name had escaped his lips perhaps too quickly, and for a few seconds he waited for an answer that never came. In its place, your sobs continued soft and distressed, your body curled up under the pale sheets.

He should have sensed right away, that yours was just a moan in your sleep, but somehow it had been necessary for him to chase the chance to see you again. How long had he not seen you?

Your suffering face made his heart tremble; he would have devoured your nightmares if you asked him.

He again spoke your name, his hand shaking you slightly, trying to tear you out of your dream.

Your reaction had been more violent than he expected and had broken the composure of the Adeptus for a moment, making him move backwards, taken by surprise. However, he thought it was normal, given the sudden awakening.

"Xiao!" His name had been uttered by your voice in amazement, but it was soon abandoned as you took your eyes off his figure "What are you doing here?"

The delicate face of the millennial Yaksha frowned in perplexity. Even now that he was there in front of you, did you persist in hiding your torments from him?

"You called me." His response was swift and straightforward, as always.

"I'm sorry ... I didn't mean to, I'm really sorry." Your apologies were fragile and uncertain.

Xiao let out a slight sigh, while his dark lashes lowered to the precious gold irises.

"Why don't you tell me?" The question he asked you later was unexpected, and for a moment you shivered at the authority of his voice, but he didn't realize "What happened?"

"Nothing." You cut it short and it irritated him. You knew how to be so stubborn when you wanted to.

"I hear your sobs every night."

He didn't want to utter those words as an accusation, maybe he hadn't even done it, but suddenly you stiffened and bowed your head even more, guilty.

"I'm sorry…!" Now your voice was broken and desperate, and a doubt began to creep into Xiao's mind as slimy as a snake.

How long haven't you called him? Why weren't you looking at him? Why weren't you smiling at him anymore?

"Who ... has anyone hurt you?" Now it was he who had lost confidence in his voice.

"Nobody ... really." You had obviously made an effort to stay calm, and somehow reassure him. But even though he didn't really understand human emotions, even though he was a different and detached creature, he could sense you.

"It's me…?" He couldn't explain why, but he felt like he was hurting himself "Am I the reason you cry every night?"

Your silence was a new pain for him. You didn't dare look at him, because it was hard for you to admit how much his distance and his disappointment had upset you.

But behind his sweet stoic face he prayed to have your eyes on him, he prayed for you to remove that horrible, strange feeling that made its way inside him, at least until he was forced to turn his back on you.

Xiao is used to pain and suffering, but that time something had changed. It was something new, something he never wanted to try.

A fist clung to his chest, and he trembled. How long had his hands no longer been shaking?

He thought he was about to give in, he believed that finally his heart would break under the weight of the new, umpteenth, fault of him.

He felt the physical need to vent that sudden wave of suffering that had hit him. He wanted to cry, but Xiao didn't know what it meant to cry, so he didn't, and he just vanished, not even looking at you.

It was the only thing he could do to protect you, right? If he was the cause of your suffering, then he would no longer exist for you. It didn't matter what he did, he didn't even ask himself, he just knew he hurt you. After all, he must already know that this was his destiny.

...

You never called him again, and Xiao never showed up again. Yet, although he endured this condition with the same resignation with which he endured every painful task of him, he realized that the selfish desire he had for you had not ceased. He didn't know how to call it by name, he just knew that it was really selfish, on his part, to expect that a little bird like you at least a little bit remained attached to him.

However, even if you despised him, even if he could no longer hear your voice or your laugh even though you were still breathing, somehow at least he hoped to remain present in your memory.

So every morning a flower was placed on your window sill. He never brought you the same type of flower two consecutive days. He didn't admit it to himself, but he wanted at least in one corner of your mind the whole Liyue to remind you of him. The scent of its flora, its colors and the sweetness of it, he hoped that even if you didn't want those things would make you think of that cruel guardian. Not that Xiao dared compare himself to flowers, no, but certainly those flowers could be compared to you for him.

The Adeptus wasn't good with words, but he was capable of meaningful and powerful gestures - it was something you loved about him.

You didn't need to know that those flowers came from him - even if it was unlikely they were someone else's gifts - and he relied on your kindness to accept them with a smile.

For a while it had worked. Even though he could no longer see you and have you around, that little contact you maintained had given him a sense of peace. In evil it was that little drop of good that gave him the relief he needed.

But he couldn't deserve that either.

One morning, when the first rays of the sun began to paint the earth with the warm colors of dawn, he came to your window. The Glaze Lily he had plucked for you had remained clasped in his hands as his eyes painfully gazed upon the Qingxin he had given you the previous day, left to itself on the windowsill, away from your care.

It was so, even the thought of him you could no longer bear.

The flowers stopped coming and Xiao stopped hoping. He only prayed that Rex Lapis would see your sweetness and cherish it with love, without needing you to endure the protection of a cursed Adeptus.

...

Xiao wanted to see you again, but certainly not right now.

The first thing his mind thought was nothing, then immediately afterwards he wondered which Archon had to thank for not killing you during his battle, and then all that was important was that you were standing in front of him, and looking at him, even if from a distance.

His mask frees his face as soon as his eyes settle on you. How long had he not seen you? For a moment the pain disappears, a wonderful, ephemeral second of peace. And then again the weight of darkness falls upon him.

He should run away, run away from your sight, but like under a spell he is stuck in his place, and you still don't run away.

You are pale and scared, your eyes full of tears. How much have you seen? How long have you been there?

It doesn't matter if the blood that covers him is that of his enemies, of those who want to harm those like you, all that matters is how Xiao now appears before you: a figure disfigured by the red of shattered life, a devouring demon .

He should go, but you call him.

"Xiao ..." His name in your voice is a desperate breath as it is sweet, and you run to meet him in your anguish.

He can't look at you, not when he's like that. He looks at the ground covered in repulsive liquids, without having the courage to meet your judgment. He would have liked to see you again, but now he is ashamed of who he is, he is ashamed of being Alatus, of being the Conqueror of Demons and the Eater of Dreams, he is ashamed of being Xiao before your pure eyes.

Now you are a few steps away, he hears you, but you are afraid to approach. He wonders why you ever even wanted to come close to him again, was it your good heart that pushed you to do it?

"Do you know how it feels to wish for death every day?" He did not want to ask that question, yet he posed it in front of you limpid and clear, as his "no" always are.

If he could die he would no longer distress you, nor would he hurt you, nor would he make you cry. If he could die, all aeons of unspoken pain would disappear. If he couldn't exist, everything would be better. But he can't, he has to live.

"If we are such a heavy burden to you why do you continue to protect us?" Yours is not a nasty question asked, it is rather a sweet worry distorted by insecurity.

His golden eyes return to immerse themselves in yours by instinct, without really wanting to.

"It's my duty, it's my ..." Xiao realizes he can't speak "But you're not ..." he tries again, but he can't.

He can't explain that knot blocking his throat and voice, which he can't spit or swallow.

It is my duty, my contract. But you are not a burden, you will never be.

His eyelids drop again and his head bows in chagrin. You are everything in front of him, and he is nothing in front of you.

"Don't look at me ..." is all he can tell you "You don't have to see me like that."

He was convinced that you didn't want to see him anymore, he was convinced that you wanted to forget him, but then why did your trembling hands rest so lovingly on his face?

"You are so beautiful Xiao." Your broken voice was asking him desperately to believe you, and he in front of your face now so close to him has no way to escape.

The misunderstandings between you two, the pain and the fear, no longer mattered.

Your arms gently encircle his chest and your head rests on his shoulder, without asking for permission, but he won't be the one to walk away, not now that he's found you.

"I'll get you dirty." He murmurs.

"It does not matter." You answer him softly.

You have no respect for the ways of the Adepti, but that is precisely why he needs you.

"Please be happy to live, Xiao."

[iscream4clones]

Best Friend Wolffe HCs

It has literally been months since I wrote anything other than stuff for graduate school. I figured I would break the chain by doing best friend headcannons for Wolffe since I have done them for Rex and Fives.

Anyway, I hope you all enjoy, and please remember to reblog and comment!

This man probably dislikes you at first unless you have been a part of the pack for a long time. If you’re an outsider? It takes even longer to gain his trust

You will first notice that you’re gaining his trust if he actually stands within your vicinity for an extended amount of time. Before, he would leave in your presence

The next step.... he actually starts to listen to you when you speak. He might even make eye contact

Once Wolffe starts talking to you, there’s a lot that’s been going through his head. He had to decide if you were worth it, if you could fit in with the others of the pack. If you were genuine.

Every time he addresses you by name, it’s in a much softer tone than most people have heard. He’s not trying to give an order, it’s not for business... and he wants you to know the difference

He gets clingy in his own kind of way. He wants to know where you are, but doesn’t have to be present as long as he knows you are okay or that he can get to you if you are not. If he is able, he’s going to be around you. Not necessarily in close proximity, but in the same room, within eyesight in the hanger, etc.

When it comes to getting to know each other, you have to make the first move. Maybe you tell him about your family, your own battle scars, your childhood. After that, he’s not afraid to share personal information. He will answer any question that you ask.

He absolutely wants you to hang around with the pack. He has every single member introduce themselves to you. They tell you that Wolffe mentions you in the slightest of ways when they are on missions, but he normally does that with people he thinks about often

He absolute favorite thing to do with you is to just go on nice long walks. It doesn’t matter where, and he doesn’t mind if you want to chat the entire time, or if you want to be silent. He’s just happy to spend time with you

No one is certain if it’s by request of Wolffe, but Master Plo seems to go out of his way to speak with you on occasion, both when Wolffe is around and when he is absent. Dad has to make sure his son is hanging out with the right people, ya know?

You have the amazing ability to make Wolffe laugh and smile. Whether it’s your jokes, your personality, your weird quirks... he lets himself be human around you

You both absolutely get into sass fights, and he will leave if you win, then show up a couple minutes later and apologize. You eyeroll to mock him daily

He’s definitely going to be protective of you, but this can come with some difficulties in the friendship. If you get hurt, or do something stupid, or anything bad happens, he normally responds first by being angry with you. The first couple times it catches you off guard, but you soon realize he just doesn’t understand how to express his concern and frustrations with situations regarding yourself. He always feels bad for it though, and sometimes you have to find him first to make up because he just feels too guilty to face you.

He will only hug you if you’re crying, or you specifically ask for it. You also might find him placing a protective hand on you in dangerous situations

He will only take you to 79′s if you ask. He isn’t sure if it’s something you would interested in but is very glad when you do come along.

With you, his best friend, he seems to go a little soft... but no one would ever mention it out loud.

[lesbobiwan]

Hi!!! Congratulations on 100 followers 👏🎉🎉 could I request 79 with torrent company? Or any other clone groups that you have in mind 😳👉👈 (also i wanna say your wrecker fic is 🔥🔥🍆💦😩😩 so good🙏)

thank you so much!!!! thank u so much about that comment for my wrecker fic that was my first time writing for him and i was very nervous!!

#79: “Look at you, grinding against everything, you’re really desperate for it. Aren’t you?” + Torrent Company (this is my first time writing group sex so i hope its okay haha)

warnings: group sex, hair pulling, a little bit of manhandling, some degradation so pls be aware if thats not ur thing, p in v sex, a little bit of anal fingering, spit roasting (whew)

You would have never imagined yourself in this position. At least, not without a hefty amount of alcohol.

Yet, here you are, stone cold sober, surrounded by a group of men you've fantasied about for months.

Had it not been for the aching bite on your neck left behind by Fives, you would have thought you were dreaming.

Jesse's hand fists in the back of your hair, pulling your head back to showcase the length of your neck, "You're not getting bored, are you?" he teases, grinding the length of his cock against your ass.

"No," you shudder against him, rolling your hips back against him. His hot mouth was making it hard to focus on anything in front of you, which was a damn shame because it's not everyday that you have four naked men in front of you.

Smack!

Echo's hand makes contact against the meat of your inner thigh, sending your world into stark focus. The haze from Jesse's mouth clears away at the shock of pain.

"Then why don't you tell us what Jesse asked you?" Kix asks, hand pumping his cock as his eyes narrow on Jesse's thigh slipping between your legs.

Immediately, you grind down against the muscle of his thigh, whining high in your throat at the friction.

"You don't know?" Fives asks, hand shooting out to grab your jaw. The tips of two fingers slip into your mouth, pressing hard against your tongue. "You too cock dumb already to tell us what Jesse said?"

Heat floods your face. It should be embarrassing. All of these men hearing you get called cock dumb and watch you rub your cunt like a shameless whore with someone's fingers in your mouth should make you want to curl up and die. All it really does is make you want more.

You shake your head as best you can with Fives hand around your jaw and fingers in your mouth. You don't know what Jesse asked you, you want to confess, I just want someone to touch me.

Jesse's thigh disappears from between your legs just as soon as it appeared. "Good girls don't get to rub themselves off when they can't answer simple questions," he whispers in your ear before pushing you not unkindly to the bed.

You gasp as your body bounces across the mattress. The comforter is fluffy enough to press against your clit when you sit up. Bolts of pleasure race up your spine as your drag your clit across the mattress.

"Fuck," you whimper, eyes fluttering shut. Your hands fist in the covers and you grind down harder.

If they won't touch you, then you'll have to do it yourself.

You're leaving a sticky spot on the covers behind you, and the feeling of the fabric catching on your clit is the only thing you can focus on. It's as if everything else in the room has faded from existence and and it's only you and your impending release.

You're so close to coming that you don't even realize the scratch of a chair sliding against the wood of your apartment floors. You don't notice how the rest of the men have fallen silent.

There's only you and your release that's building building building —

One hand tangles in your hair and lifts.

Your eyes flew open and you ragged gasp echoes through the room. Your hands fly up to grab at the wrist holding you up.

Rex stares back at you.

He's been silent enough since the night started that you might be able to say you forget he was here, but that would be a lie. Rex's presence was heavy in the room, and you knew it was an unspoken rule that the other men would do nothing without Rex's say so.

"Look at you," Rex breathes, dark gaze trailing down your heaving breasts to your soaked and dripping cunt and finally to the slick spot you left behind on the comforter. "Grinding against everything, you’re really desperate for it. Aren’t you?”

Rex turns your head to force you to look at the rest of the boys and you're suddenly struck with the feeling that you're prey.

You're prey and these five men are going to eat you alive. They'll devour you whole.

You look forward to it.

"Please," you whine, arching in Rex's grip and reaching out towards Echo, who looks as though he's fighting a war with himself just to keep his hands to himself, "touch me?" It's pitiful and pathetic, but you think you just might convince Echo to step forward.

That is, until Echo's eyes flit to Rex's behind you and his back straightens and feet cement themselves to the floor.

"You're desperate for a cock in your pussy, aren't you?" Rex hisses in your ear, pressing his body flush to your back. His cock is like a red hot brand against the small of your back.

Fuck, you want it in your mouth.

"She's gotta learn the rules first," Fives pipes up, fisting his cock and twisting on every upstroke.

Your mouth is dry and the words are almost hard to spit out against your desire to swallow each and every one of their cocks, but you manage. "R-rules?"

Kix smirks, kneeling down on the bed just far enough away that you would have to strain if you wanted to touch him. "The captain always goes first."

Rex's hand leaves your hair to press between your shoulder blades, forcing your head and chest into the mattress. His broad hand and fingers splay across your back, keeping you perfectly pinned.

Your chest heaves even more. Like this, you're completely exposed. Your swollen and dripping cunt is on full display for Rex behind you and Kix's cock is right there in front of your mouth — all you'd have to do is stretch your neck a little and open and your mouth.

Rex's thumbs open your pussy lips even more, "Look at that," he breathes, grinding his cock against the back of your thigh, "you're soaked for us, sweet girl. You want my cock that bad?"

"Yes!" you sob, canting your hips back into him.

His hand smacks down against the meat of your ass cheek. "'Yes,' what?"

Heat floods your cheeks. "Yes, captain," you groan into the sheets, "please, give me your cock?"

One of Rex's hands leave your body to line the tip of his throbbing cock against your entrance. He slides it up and down the length of your folds, getting his cock nice and wet to push into you.

"Kix," he barks, voice firm and not to be disobeyed, "why don't you keep her mouth busy?"

Kix's grin is feral above you, "With pleasure, Sir,"

Rex's first thrust has you choking on Kix's cock. The captain's hands are like iron against your hips, holding you in place and forcing you to just lay there and take it.

You give up trying to provide suction around Kix's cock and instead resign yourself to just pressing your tongue along the underside of it every time he thrusts into your mouth.

Rex's hand on your hip trails inwards, and your whole body stiffens when his thumb presses against your asshole.

"What do you think, sweet thing?" Rex leans down to whisper in your ear, "D'you think you could take one of us in here?"

Your cunt clenches around his cock and all you can do is moan around Kix's length.

Fuck, you don't know but you'd certainly like to try.

Rex groans as your clamp down around his cock, "Fuck, you like that idea, don't you? You want one of the boys to stick their cock in your ass, huh? Have you so full you'll be walking funny for days?"

Yes! you want to cry out. You want to scream as Rex's cock drags along that magic spot with every thrust but all you can do is choke around the cock in your mouth.

"Echo, you bring what I asked you to?" Rex asks, hips not slowing down for a second.

"Yessir."

Rex smacks a hand down against your ass, jolting you even further onto Kix's cock. Your nose is pressed against the hairs at the base of the medic's cock, and Kix's groan vibrates through his chest.

"Good," Rex grins, "then grab it and get over here."

You can't focus on anything. Your world is nothing but the punishing thrusts of Rex and the heavy feeling of Kix's cock deep in your throat. You can distantly hear Jesse and Fives fisting their cocks above you, and you want nothing more than to grab them and do it yourself, but Rex is using you like a doll.

A cold, slick finger presses against your asshole.

Echo.

You moan around Kix's cock as Echo slides the tip of his finger in.

"That's right," Rex murmurs, hand sliding around your front to circle your clit, "You're going to be full of us by the end of the night. Fuck, you're squeezing my cock so tight,"

Kix's hips start to stutter, "'M gonna cum, pretty girl," he warns, "you gonna swallow it all?"

You whine as best you can around his cock.

Yes, you want to assure him, I'll swallow every last drop.

You think the message gets across.

Echo slips a second finger in your ass just as Kix cums down your throat. Your jaw aches as you swallow it down, sticking out your tongue to show Kix the proof, and exhaustion threatens to creep up your spine.

But Rex isn't Fives and Jesse aren't done. Echo isn't done.

And you get the feeling that no one is done until Rex says they're done.

Maker, you never want this night to end.

[ahsokasshoto]

gold: a bad batch fanfic

word count: 1,362

content: no romantic relationship, lots of dialogue, nothing but fluff and brubbers being sweet together, takes place between clone wars and bad batch (ps if you recognize the Coleridge homage in this please marry me)

summary: The Batch has some time off and they've decided to take a beach vacation. Echo is self-conscious about his cybernetics, and Tech comforts him through the power of music and brotherly love.

song: gold by fyfe and iksa strings ao3

"It's said that this bay in particular is known for the number of rare specimens which can be observed. I'm hoping we will see an emerald water snake." 

Echo sighed, shaking his head as he sat sullenly on his bunk. Tech had been babbling away like this for several minutes, detailing every aspect of their vacation spot. They had some days off and wanted to do something to relax, and everyone was excited about the idea of a beach vacation. 

Everyone except for Echo. 

"And did you know that there is a species of bioluminescent algae which blooms only once a cycle? If my calculations are correct, we should be arriving right in the middle of this cycle's--why aren't you ready yet?”

Tech interrupted himself as he came into their shared bunk space and saw Echo, sitting on the edge of the bunk, still wearing his blacks as well as a sour expression.  

Echo crossed his arms, looking away from his brother. "I'm staying on the ship." 

"What?" Tech pushed his goggles up on his nose. "What do you mean? This is supposed to be our vacation!"

"Yeah, well, maybe I need a vacation from all of you," Echo retorted. 

Tech rolled his eyes. "Your response is disingenuous, and indicative of a larger problem." He sighed and sat down next to his brother. "What is really going on?" he insisted.

"Maybe I'm just worried about all the water and sand screwing with my cybernetics."

Tech shook his head. "Wrong again. You know I applied a hydrophobic spray and sealant on your cybernetics."

Echo grunted, trying to turn further away from his brother. Tech responded by slowly reaching out, gently uncrossing Echo's arms and turning him back towards himself to look him in the eyes. Echo still cast his eyes down, avoiding his brother's gaze. 

"I don't want to be stared at, okay?" 

"Oh." Tech immediately looked away, a light tinge flushing his cheeks. "My apologies--"

"I don't mean by you, or our brothers. I mean by…" he gestured around vaguely, "everyone else. All anyone sees when they look at me now are my cybernetics. My battle. My scars. You said it yourself; I'm 'more machine than man' now, aren't I?"

"Percentage-wise, yes," Tech responded quickly, unthinking. Echo merely huffed in response. 

Tech's brow furrowed in a wave of thought and emotion. It appeared his words had caused his brother pain, and he was frustrated with himself for being so callous. He was only ever trying to be factual. He sighed softly. 

"That was the incorrect response. I did not mean--"

"I know what you meant. And I know what they see."

"Well, who cares what they see? I don't see you as a machine, Echo."

Echo looked up at Tech then, his eyes searching. "What do you see, Tech?" Echo was genuinely asking. Tech could be so forthright about everything but himself; you had to be direct. 

Suddenly, as if guided by the force, the memory of a song came floating into Tech's mind. 

"If life were a song, you're my favorite line...I wish that you could see you like I see you all the time," he sang softly. His voice was light and airy and sweet. He took Echo's scomp link in his gentle hands, fingers delicately flitting over the cybernetics, absent-mindedly making minor adjustments.

"No damage beyond a brother's delight," he continued, "I wish you knew your scars are precious too, no need to hide."

He looked Echo in the eyes then, a soft smile on his lips. "I see them like gold," he finished in a quiet, reverent whisper.

Echo watched Tech slowly reach out a hand towards his face; felt the fluttering of fingers on his cheeks brushing away the teardrops. 

He hadn't noticed he was crying.  

"It doesn't matter how anyone else looks at you. Because the people who matter will see you."  

Echo released a breath he didn't know he was holding. "The last person to sing for me like that was Fives."

Tech's eyes filled with worry. "I apologize if I brought on any painful memories--"

"No." Echo shook his head, then smiled over at his brother. "They're good memories." He threw an arm over Tech's shoulders; Tech felt Echo's weight shift against him as he relaxed. "Thank you, brother."

They sat there together for a few more quiet moments. "Besides," Tech piped up after a fashion, "if my calculations are correct, which they are, and we are able to witness this algal bloom, I don't think anyone will be looking at you, or any of us. It's said to be quite magnificent."

Echo chuckled at the normalcy of his brother always circling back to the data of it all. And Tech grinned, pleased with himself that he was able to cheer his brother up. 

"Alright, alright, I'm convinced," Echo said. "But this algae thing better be worth it."

Tech grinned wider, standing up to leave Echo to finish getting ready. "Oh, it will be. You'll see."

Echo's heart still hammered in his chest as he made his way down to the shore to join his brothers. Hunter and Crosshair were busy with getting a fire going to cook some meat over. Tech wandered up and down the beach with his nose in his holopad, presumably taking notes on all of those rare specimens he'd been talking about. Wrecker, of course, was already splashing about in the sea.

There were other people around as well--some couples, some families with their kids, some friends--but they were all so busy in enjoying the beach themselves, none of them gave Echo and his cybernetics a second thought.

He relaxed a little, silently chastising himself for being so worried in the first place. 

"There you are!" Wrecker called to him, waving excitedly from the water. "Come on, let's test that hydro-whatever Tech made! The water's great!" 

Hunter and Crosshair smiled at him as he came down the beach. "Food's gonna be ready soon," Hunter told him. 

"Oh! Tech, is that one of your snakes? Hold on, I'm gonna try to catch it!" "No, wait, they can be very territorial--" They could hear Wrecker and Tech shouting from the water. 

"Please go occupy Wrecker before he does something truly stupid," Crosshair asked Echo. "Alright, alright," Echo chuckled, making his way down towards the water.

"Haha! Got ya! Oh…" Wrecker looked up, eyes wide to see Echo completely covered with water from where Wrecker had splashed, trying and failing to catch one of the snakes. The cool water actually felt refreshing on his skin, and the water rolled right off his cybernetics without getting inside. "Looks like your hydrophobic spray is working!" he called to Tech. 

"Of course it is," his brother responded, not looking up from his datapad, but there was a soft smile on his face. 

Echo smiled too. The heat of the sun bearing down on the beach was no match for the warmth spreading through Echo, glad to be here and be himself among his brothers.

And Tech was not wrong about the algal bloom. The five clones stood together on the beach as the dusk softly descended down around them, and the beach slowly twinkled to life as the algae gathered at the shoreline began to glow with a delicate golden light.

"They look like stars," Echo whispered, admiring the way the algae dotted across the dark water. 

"I told you," Tech replied smugly. Echo could only chuckle and throw his arm around his brother again. Tech pulled Hunter in with his other arm, and Echo threw his other around Wrecker, who dragged Crosshair in as well until they were all standing, arms linked, appreciating this sea full of stars. 

Echo smiled too. The heat of the sun bearing down on the beach was no match for the warmth spreading through him, glad to be here and be himself among his brothers. 

"Oh, look, look!" Tech exclaimed excitedly as a couple of water snakes began to dance across the surface; from the shore, the brothers watched as they moved in tracks of shining light which glanced off their glossy green forms like glittering flakes when they reared. They coiled and swam and every track was a flash of golden fire. 

Tech's words reverberated in Echo's mind, and he hummed softly to himself, 

"I see them like gold…" 

tags: @itsjml @eyecandyeoz @kratosfan6632466 @archisstically-done @sstarwarsss @aspiring-spellcaster @captxin-rex hmm i can't think of who else to tag so lmk if you want to be tagged on future fics!

[sarcastic-nebula]

care

a/n: honestly, I need something like this. trying to make writing my coping mechanism. also, we stan relationships where both parties take care of the other

"Mesh'la," calls a concerned voice. It shakes you from your focus for a moment. You use this time to look away from the datapad and nearby flimsi. Attending the University of Coruscant means there is much work to do, and not enough time to do it.

"Elek, cyare?" Your gaze is expectant; waiting for him to say what he wants to say quickly so you can try to understand and complete more homework.

"I just-" he sighs, "I finally have enough time off to spend time with you, and- and you're distant," and quietly, "I miss you."

You turn the rest of the way to face your lover. You, at your desk, and him, at the couch. Both of you sitting up somewhat straight, rather than sprawled out next to each other. Like usual.

A breath. "Love, I have so much to do right now." You try to maintain a neutral expression while explaining the basics of what is going on. "I have a lot of homework, and it's midterm season, and work is starting to pick up. I'm really sorry I cannot give you the attention you deserve, but if you could bear with me for a few more days..." You drifted off, hoping he would understand.

He sighs again, and then his face softens. "Of course, love. Don't overdo it, yeah?" He says as he stands up, and walks over to you.

"C'mere."

With a smile on his face, he goes to embrace you.

But when his arms reach around you, you stiffen. Quickly, hoping he didn't notice your hesitation, you wrap your arms around him for a second before unfurling just as fast. You know that if the physical contact remained, you would burst into tears. There is no time for that; cry from exhaustion and stress later. You must.

You know Rex is surprised, but you turn and sit back down before he could say anything. A feeling of guilt remains, so you turn around while seated and kiss the back of his hand; a silent apology and a reminder that he is still loved. You pretend to look busy until you hear his footsteps retreat back to his spot on the couch. Then, with a hidden deep breath to swallow down frustration and almost-tears, you carry on with your homework.

The next week, when some tests and assignments were over, all you had to worry about were the grades. You knew that you did your best, and hopefully it would be enough. Maker knows that you do more than other students do. Rex walks into your modest flat while you ponder this on the couch. You miss your family and your pet back home. Mentally, stress and worry and effort had taken its toll. Cooking and eating took too much effort, and neither were the same without being home. School had kept you up late into the night; you were so tired, and your head hurt from not eating enough today. The world felt too bleak to do anything.

Rex saw you like this, dark circles under closed eyes. Dark circles from not enough sleep. Closed eyes to hopefully alleviate the headache, maybe taking you to sleep. Luckily, things were slow with the 501st, so he could devote some time to you. He knew you had no one to worry about you, so he would use the time until he got called away to be what you needed.

"Cyare, do you have anything in the refrigeration unit?" He said gently from the door, helmet under his arm.

His words had knocked you out of your stupor, and you opened your eyes, turning your head toward him.

"I don't- I don't know." Your brain was fried after such a long week.

"That's okay. I'll check," he said with a soft smile. He took his helmet and set it on a countertop, and looked around for something to eat. With some warmed-up bread and butter, he sat by your side. You didn't have much in terms of food at the moment, and Rex knew that you needed something rather than nothing. Luckily, you had good taste in simple things, like bread from a good bakery. You could have some fruit later if you were up for it.

You knew today was a day where you had to force yourself to eat so the headache wouldn't get worse. Nothing seemed appealing. When Rex appeared next to you on the couch with a plate of bread, you tried to tell him thank you through your eyes. You lifted a heavy hand to take a piece. But rather than bread, you took the plate at the last second, and quickly set it aside so you could embrace Rex properly this time, straddling him.

He quickly reciprocated through his surprise. He didn't think you would go for a hug so suddenly. With his arms wrapped around your back, he felt tears fall down his neck. He gripped you harder.

The thing was, you needed this. Earlier, the physical contact in the middle of a stressful time would have brought you to tears and sidetracked you from studying. Now, you still felt the tears coming on, but allowed them to fall. You had time to show how exhausted you were, and you had someone to support you through it.

Rex knew these were tired tears, and would help you destress. You had so much going on at once, no wonder you broke down. He was thankful this was a quiet cry, when the tears came from being tired and frustrated with life, instead of a grieving, heartbroken, hatred-fueled cry. The latter were the worst to watch, and he had nothing with him to help for that type. With these quiet tears, he knew what you needed. To be held, loved; to be taken care of until you were ready to take on the world again.

You and Rex supported each other in this relationship. When you got like this, Rex held you and did what you needed, whether it was getting food or telling you to drink water, go to bed, or to do something small with him. When he got like this, you made chocolate chip cookies, forced him to rest, and tried to comfort him in Mando'a. Similar, yet different ways of taking care of each other, and telling the other you loved them.

When the tears dried, and Rex's armor cut into you slightly, you got off of his lap and took the plate of bread, giving him an "I'm tired but I want you to know that I'm okay" smile. While you ate, Rex kissed you on the forehead, and went to clean up after a day of being a soldier.

[renjunfromthestars]

more than

Pairing: Mark + reader, Bestfriend! Mark, Childhood friend!Mark

Genre: Fluff, angst, honestly a little bit of crack LOL

Song recs: Best friend + Untitled + Waiting Room (Rex Orange County), Sofia (Clario)

Warnings: Mild swearing and mentions of alcohol

Word Count: 7.0k (my longest fic yet, wow!)

Summary: You’ve known Mark for all your life, and it only takes one drunken night (plus a little intervention with Haehcan) to think that you wouldn’t mind getting to know him a little better...

Notes: The fact that I actually had the patience to sit down and to write something above 3k words,,,,absolutely astounding, amazing, unique, never been seen before…. Mark is a little awk and always works so hard (poor bby), so imagining him as a super stressed pre-med major and oblivious best friend absolutely wrecks me thank you goodbye

----

When you first meet Mark, you’re eight years old, and it’s at church. He’s dressed in his Sunday best: a light blue button up, khakis, and shiny dress shoes. He looks stiff as your mother introduces you two, with his shirt buttoned all the way to the collar.

It’s not that you dislike him, but you think he might dislike you, with the way he avoids eye contact, eyes tracing the floor, your shoes—anywhere but your face.

You see panic flash through his eyes when his mom gently pushes him towards you, telling him to take you inside and reserve a spot in the pews while she catches up with your mom. 

He shuffles awkwardly, and wordlessly, you follow him into the building.

The pews are almost empty, with the bulk of them being filled in the front by the old people that usually have nothing better to do on their Sunday mornings. Although your local church is on the smaller side, it feels unusually large with rows of empty pews, almost eerie. You shudder at shadows the walls make with the stained glass, and hurry to your usual spot towards the middle.

If Mark notices your apprehension, he doesn’t say anything. He’s oblivious, actually, not noticing your absence until he’s almost at the end of the rows. When you see him stop and search for you frantically, you stifle a laugh. 

He eventually finds you, and after shuffling awkwardly between the pews, makes his way to you. 

“This is kinda far, isn’t it?” he murmurs.

“Huh?”

“I mean,” he stammers. “I usually sit closer to the front. ”

You peer at him from the side. “You actually want to pay attention?”

He scratches the back of his head. “Well yeah, isn’t that the point?”

“I guess,” you say, looking at the ceiling. With the sprawling arches and patterns, the designs are pretty, you think. 

“You should at least try, it’s kinda interesting,” when you turn your head to look at him he turns away. “Only if you want to, of course.” he adds, fidgeting with his hands.

When you tell him that maybe you will, you see him crack a small smile.

It becomes a routine, almost every Sunday, with you and Mark sitting next to each other.  Whether it’s closer to the front or the back, it’s a whole debate. You usually give in, because when you walk in, Mark is already waiting for you in the front. 

….

“Do you still go to Church?”

You’re laying on a green bean bag in Mark’s dorm room, procrastinating on the midterm paper you were supposed to get started on, well, a week ago. 

You think for a second, hand raised to rub your chin, just to tease him. “What’s church?”

“C'mon dude, are you serious?”

“Barely,” you say, standing up to move to sit on his bed. “You should really get a new bean bag, it’s kinda deflated.”

Mark ignoring you, reaches over from his desk to fluff up the bean bag. “It’s because you sit on it so much.” 

“Are you calling me fat?” and before he can defend himself you finally answer him, “I stopped going in like, middle school. It would be hard even if I wanted to, to find a whole new congregation, and I’m just busy. Also, it’s so boring, I could cry.”

Mark perks up. “Not if you go with me.”

You groan dramatically, and Mark chuckles. 

“Good to know that you haven’t changed since you were eight.”

It’s just your view on church, that hasn’t changed since you were eight. First thing things first, you were 19 now, going on twenty. You’re in University now, your second year. It’s been a blur assignments, partying, coffee and term papers- you don’t have time to think about anything else right now. Except maybe actually starting your paper but-

Mark interrupts you midthought, breaking the silence. “Are you still with that guy?”

“Huh? Who? Yuta?”

“Yeah,” Mark responds sheepishly, avoiding eye contact.

You roll your eyes. “No, we haven’t been together for a while. It wasn’t that important so I forgot to tell you.”

You can tell he's surprised about how unusually calm you are for talking about your first serious breakup, but he doesn’t say anything, instead just scratching the back of his head awkwardly in typical Mark fashion. “He was an asshole anyway,” Mark murmurs.

“What did you say?” you ask, acting shocked. “Mark Lee? Talking shit?”

Mark, embarrassed, refuses to repeat it. 

“I’m just saying, he wasn’t the right person for you.” he protests.

“As opposed to who? God himself?”

“I can think of a few,” he sighs, but you aren’t paying attention, instead laughing your ass off on his bed.

“You’re insufferable,” he says, standing up to open the door. ��C’mon let’s go, I’m hungry. I know you’re not starting that paper anytime soon.”

…

It’s a routine, seeing Mark on Monday afternoons for lunch. Not Friday, because you were busy getting wasted, and consequently not Saturday, because you were too hungover. Not Sunday, because Mark had church, and you, well, were busy praying to God that you would be able to finish all the work you’d neglected over the weekend as a result. 

“I still don’t understand why you choose the worst day of the week for this,”  you say over your Kale caesar salad, pushing the leaves around aggressively. The University had a lot of healthy options, which you were grateful for. Grateful for you were not, were for the student loans you had to pay off every month, the exorbitant amount you partially owed to all the local and expensive organic produce the meal plan featured for the sake of being sustainable and health conscious.You could really give a rat’s ass about whether your salad was organic or not; if your weekends said anything about you, no amount of kale could help you (or your liver).

“It wasn’t really up to me,” Mark points out. “Maybe if you weren’t too busy being-”

“Ta ta ta,” you tsk, waving a finger around. “I, unlike you, actually have a social life.”

Mark frowns. “I have a social life.” 

Mark definitely had a social life. He was popular, even. As popular as you can be, being a preoccupied Pre-med with perfect grades. Mark is likeable. It’s not like he doesn’t have the opportunity to go on weekends if wanted to, he just chooses not to, deciding to slave away at biological functions, orbitals, and lab results instead. Even now, as he takes his glasses off to clean them, you notice the imprint they leave on his face from how long they’ve been sitting on his face, and doesn’t take you long to find the dark circles that grace the skin under his eyes: he’s exhausted.

You frown too. “You should really get out more Mark. You seem stressed.”

Mark gives you a small smile after putting his glasses back on, and then resumes typing on his laptop. “I don’t know how going out would make me less stressed,” he says, distracted. “I would only be more stressed, knowing the work I have to do.”

“Yeah, but you're pretty organized.” You point your fork at him accusingly, kale falling to the side. “Don’t you usually finish things early too?”

“Yeah, I do.” he admits,  and before you can press onwards you’re interrupted by a girl you recognize to be his lab partner.

Goggles in hand, you can see the marks they leave around her eye area, but she’s somehow still annoyingly beautiful, with her glossy straight hair and long eyelashes, but that’s not why you dislike her. She might be the most stuck up girl you’ve ever met. 

“Did you do the calculations yet?” she says, turning to Mark. ignoring you. It’s only when you cough in your seat that she turns to you. “And hello, (y/n).” An afterthought.

“Hello Yebin,” You give her a wry smile. “How's the lab?”

“The usual.” she glances at Mark, who seems to be doing some finishing touches on said calculations. “How’s Chem 2?”

Boy, does she really grind your gears. 

“It was fine, I actually placed out because I took it in high school.” Not to mention, it was a class for freshmen, and you were in fact, now a sophomore. 

Before she can say anything back, Mark claps his hands in celebration. “Done! Sorry it took me so long, I just had to double check some things.”

“It’s no problem,” and with the way her voice drips with a sickly sweetness, you want to gag. It’s so painfully obvious. “Are you still down for tomorrow?”

Poor Mark, always oblivious, stops typing on his laptop and looks up in confusion.  “Huh?”

You silently laugh at the expression Yebin makes when she realizes Mark has no idea what she’s talking about. “For our study session? The MCAT is just months away.”she reminds him.

Mark remembers. “Oh yeah, about that, I was thinking we could also invite-”

“Great!” she chirps, “See you tomorrow!” and with a flash of her white lab coat, she's gone. 

Mark scratches the back of his head. “I guess she had somewhere to be.”

You roll your eyes for what it seems like the 100th time this week, anymore and they might be permanently stuck to the back of your head. “She definitely likes you.”

“Who? Yebin? No way.” 

“Yes, Yebin, and yes way.” You fling a walnut from your salad over to his side, and he cringes.

“What is your problem?” he grumbles, and resumes typing on his laptop.

You drop the subject, because you know any talk on girls is completely lost on him. As you set aside your salad, you peer over at Mark, palm supporting your face. He’s focused, eyebrows slightly furrowed, with his lips mouthing over silently whatever science journal he was reading on his computer screen.

Mark has always been good looking, you think. You don’t know why you’ve never really noticed it before. His nose bridge gently slopes over his face, and his jawline is sharp, having lost his baby cheeks years ago. He works out often too, although he barely talks about it (maybe out of fear you’d tease him for being a gym bro). And with the way he’s so adorably awkward,  It’s no surprise really, that every girl friend that you’ve met of his seems to be completely smitten. 

Shaking your head, you snap out of it. It’s dangerous to think of Mark that way, you think. You’ve known him too long.

“My problem? I think you’re the one with the problem here. I’m surprised your hair isn't completely gray by now.”

Mark ignores you, probably mad at the fact you tried to start world food war three with him with a walnut.

“Hey.” you flick at his forehead to get his attention, and he flinches. 

“There’s a party this weekend at Johnny’s fraternity, you should come.” Johnny, being both your long time mutual friend (who’s demeanor is way too nice to fit the stereotypical frat boy image, really) who has since stopped asking Mark out of respect for his “med school grind”. 

“I’m already planning on it,” he responds, and you’re surprised. 

“Since when do you actually accept party invitations?”

“Since yesterday, because I’m tired of Haechan bothering me about it.”

You silently cheer, of course, you expect nothing else from Haechan.

…

“I never knew it was so hard to get booze.”

“It’s not hard if you’re 21.”

Scoffing, you turn your head to face the boy across from you. As if he can feel the burn of your gaze on his forehead, Haechan stops typing on his Macbook and lifts his eyes to meet yours. 

“No shit Sherlock, but last time I checked, we both weren’t 21.”

The sun had set a half an hour ago, and despite having spent the whole afternoon together, you and Haechan have had yet to come up with a way to secure the drinks you promised your friends for tonight’s pregame. With both of you being certified schemers representing your respective friends, you guess it wasn’t that big of surprise that the responsibility was left on both your shoulders. It beat scavenging alone, and spending time with Haechan wasn’t so bad either, when you two weren’t trying to kill each other. 

It was already late, and Haechan had deemed Ubering to the nearest packer store that sold Soju (the sweet sweet liquid of choice) was too much work. You on the other hand, had dismissed that option for a completely different reason. The issue in question was the flimsy, borderline pathetic excuse for a fake ID Haechan planned to use at the packer store. 

“Hey it works!” he protested. “You just act like you’re already legal and they don’t even card you. Easy.”

You roll your eyes as Haechan theatrically reenacts his last trip to the packer store.

“I asked him how he was doing, and he told me school sucks. I say to him, ‘Tell me about it,  thank god this is my last year!” and as if to emphasize his next point, he flicks his wrist in the air, ID snuggled between his index and middle finger. “And I was on my way. No issue at all.”

“That’s because he didn’t even see your fake I.D stupid. He would’ve called you out on your bullshit in an instant.”

Out of all the different options available, you could not fathom why he chose his fake ID to show that from all the places in this world, he was from freaking Hong Kong. There were fifty states to choose from, other English speaking countries, and he chose to pose as an  international student on a student visa. He could most definitely look the part, but after looking at the ID he proudly slaps on the common room lounge desk, you deadpan. The yellowish tint to the card was way too suspicious to be taken seriously.

“I wish we could just ask Mark,” you sigh, and Haechan looks at you like you’re stupid.

“He’s 20, ya dimwit.”

“I know, that’s why I said I wish. You have serious hearing problems.”

Haechan stops typing on his laptop to shoot you an especially heated glare, and you’re reminded again why he’s #2 on your fight list, right above Yebin. First place was taken by the girl you almost actually fought at that one University party a town over, wherever she is you hope she’s having a terrible day.

“If it were not for the rules of this land, you’d be dead right now Haechan.” 

Haechan places his head in his palms, and flutters his eyelashes disgustingly. 

“But you love me.”

“Yes, as much as Mark loves social events. Speaking of Mark, how on earth did you get him to leave his cave?”

“It didn’t take much,” and before you can call him out for lying, he shushes you.

“Okay, maybe a few days of nonstop begging.” Haechan says as his eyes dart across the laptop screen. You raise your eyebrow. “And I might have threatened to release pictures from the photoshoot his mom made him take when he was younger.”

“I expected nothing less from your evil, evil, mind.”

He scoffs. “Hardly. Just resourceful.”

Resourceful he is, because Haechan is the one who ends up finding a plug for the alcohol that night. 

…

A can of four loko, a bottle of soju, and a few shots later, you should be hammered, wasted even. But after 14 months, 2 weeks, and 5 days into college, your tolerance is pretty high, so you’re really just plain drunk. Even so, you’re a little messy (no surprise). You’re not in a state to be trusted with any errands, so you don’t understand why Haechan asks you to pick up Mark along the way to Johnny’s fraternity. 

“Why do I have to do it?” you whine, putting your hand over your forehead, and Haechan only laughs at your dramatic display of despair. 

“Because Johnny messaged me that Mark isn’t there, and there’s no way in hell I’m letting him flake on me this time. ”

You point a finger at him, and he stifles a snort when you’re off by a couple inches. “Letting him flake on me, me, me as in you! It’s not my problem.”

But there’s no use in arguing with Haechan, and you know it. That’s why you find yourself stomping your way up the second floor of Mark’s dormitory like you’re in elementary school again, having just been scolded by your mom and being forced back into your room.

You knock at his door impatiently, and it feels like forever until you hear some shuffling, and see the door knob twist open. To be honest, it’s probably just a few seconds, but time is different when you’re intoxicated.

Before you even see him, it smells faintly of  shampoo and detergent, so you’re not surprised when he opens the door and you see his hair is still half wet from the shower. He’s definitely party ready, and when you mean party ready, he’s wearing the same loose black tee and grey joggers he wears to sleep. His socks don’t match and you try not to laugh, because it would be a bad look for you, to show up intoxicated, and apparently crazy. 

“Oh (y/n), what are you doing here? Oh shit is today Friday? I totally forgot, Haechan is going to kill me-'' He looks at you and then pauses, scrunching up his nose. “Have you been drinking?”

“No.” you say sarcastically, but it definitely falls short of Mark because he looks at you like he does not believe you. Good, because he shouldn’t.

He sighs, and ushers you in his room. It’s dark, with the only light emitting from the little steel lamp on his desk, which is covered with his notes, pencils, a textbook, and some highlighters. When you finally make your way to his bed (with difficulty) he sighs again, and you silently scold yourself for having that mini drinking contest with Haechan. If you thought you could handle your alcohol well, Haechan was an absolute monster. 

You nearly screech when Mark flashes a mini flashlight in your face, and he tells you to calm down before someone thinks he’s committing murder. He holds your face still with his index finger resting on your cheek and his thumb lifting your chin. You try your best not to squint when he tells you to, instead focusing on his face. He’s so close, you can feel his warm breath on your face. If you weren’t already so flushed from drinking, you suspect you’d look beet red now. 

“Well, your pupils still dilate normally, so I don’t think you have alcohol poisoning-”

The world is moving a little, so you plop backwards on his bed— albeit a little harder than expected because he rushes over to you and looks concerned. 

“-but I don’t think that’s the problem here.” he finishes. 

Your eyes are closed, mainly because his bed is really comfy. “I’m here to pick you up.” and as if to emphasize your point, you wildly start pointing in all directions, hoping it would land on him. 

You open your eyes when you feel him grab your finger and turn it thirty degrees to the left, just  stopping at his chest. Your sense of direction must be really bad, because it turns out you were pointing at nothing. 

“I don’t think we’re going anywhere for awhile”

“Noooooo” you wail, and Mark lets go of your hand to sit back down on his desk, and unsurprisingly, begins reading his textbook again. How he is able to focus with you in the background, you don’t know, but it must have taken years of practice.

At this point, you decide to take matters into your own hands. You shove yourself off the bed and grab his arms from behind him. His roller chair scoots a few inches before he stops it.

“You’re not exactly making great case for yourself here”

“Stop making excuses!” 

You aim straight towards the armpits, and you’re confused at the lack of reaction, so you reach over to squeeze his knee. Almost immediately, he crumples over, almost falling off the chair. 

“Can you-” he says mid laugh, “please” he gasps, “Stop that!”

You respond by attacking his other knee, and it’s over. He falls off his chair and you go down with him. The difference is that he recovers quickly, and starts tickling you back in revenge. 

You’re sensitive, so it feels like you’re dying. You try to use his arm as leverage to push yourself up, but next thing you know he’s toppeling over you. You close your eyes and wait for your head to kiss the cold hard floor but it never comes, because Mark's hand cradles your head, breaking the fall.

When you open your eyes, he’s closer than ever before, noses touching. Lips a mere centimetres away and in a weird embrace, you resist the urge to close the distance. 

Mark has always been good looking, especially now, so close to you. You don’t know why you’ve never noticed it before.

When he pulls away he’s flustered, and for the first time, so are you. 

It’s an awkward silence, with you still on the floor as he stands up, rubbing the dusk from his knees. He scratches the back of his head and offers you a hand 

“Let’s head out,” he says.

“Yeah, let’s.” you echo. 

…

Although Haechan berates you for being more than a little late to the party, he’s overjoyed that you somehow managed to show up with Mark. Not that he didn’t have faith in you anyways, he tells you. It’s just that Mark is married to his Biology textbook, and she runs a tight ship. By the time you reached the frat with Mark, you’ve sobered up enough to enjoy yourself normally, 

It’s when you wake up in the morning, that you’re not okay. It’s not okay, because you dreamt of Mark, and that’s weird, because you and Mark were just friends, right? And you always will be. 

It’s not a big deal because friends dream of friends. Dreams are a product of your own desires environment, you tell yourself, it’s perfectly normal because you spend so much time with him.

What is not normal, is when you see Mark the following Monday, and are worried about it. You’re nervous the whole time, and it gets worse when you slide the little watermelon filled tupperware container across the table in apology for last Friday. He likes his watermelon cut up into little cubes, you remembered (why do you remember?), and you avoid his eyes, pushing a stray piece of hair behind your face. 

Mark, oblivious as usual, doesn’t really notice anything until 10 minutes in, as if your lack of rambling surprises him. Munching on the cubes, he asks if you’re okay.

“Yeah, I am.”

No you are not. You are utterly fucked. 

…

“But you need to promise me you won’t judge or make fun of me for it”

“Just say it already, Jesus.”

“It’s just so embarrassing.”

“Oh my god, are you in love with me?”

“No!” 

When placing your hands in your face, Haechan grants mercy on you, patting you on the back instead of teasing you further.

“I don’t know what else could be so important that you need to talk to me in person. Unless…. it’s about Mark?”

His hands stop soothingly rubbing your back and instead starts slapping it, waiting for you to laugh along with him. When he doesn’t get a response he gasps. Turning his head sideways to face you, he pries your fingers apart.

“No fucking way.”

“Right?” you moan.

“I was just joking, but I can’t say I didn’t expect it.”

You remove your hands from your face and look at him, confused. “What do you mean?”

“Like, you’ve known each other forever. You spend a lot of time together too. Someone was bound to catch feelings eventually.”

You don’t respond, instead choosing to sulk.

“You know I’m right. You just don’t want to admit it because you’re the loser in this situation.”

Right he is, because you’ve been avoiding Mark for the past few weeks like the plague. You’ve told him that you’ve been busy with your final term paper (you’re not, you’re an engineering major why would you have one?), and although he was a little confused, he was probably also a little thankful because the MCAT was only a month away. 

As you tell him about your plight, Haechan listens thoughtfully, “mhming” and “ahh-ing” at all the right places.

“I don’t see how ignoring him helps you at all. I would say to just talk to him about it, but it’s Mark, he probably hasn’t thought about you that way at all.”

“Thanks,” you grumble. “So I’m basically one of the boys.”

“No really, mans might as well be the anemone from Nemo, I’ve never seen him interested in anyone.” Haechan sighs. “This is a tough one.”

“I’m sure I’ll think of something, but I might have to get creative.”

“I’d like to see you try Hyuck.”

…

It’s 9pm Sunday night, and there’s a knock on your door. It’s strange you think, because it’s a Sunday, and it’s a little late to be doing anything.

When you open the door, there he is, Mark Lee in all his 5’9’ glory, with a little bag in hand, in it your favorite milk tea. 

“It’s Sunday.” you say, intelligently. 

Mark just chuckles. “Yes it is, and your point?”

You step aside so he can walk in, and you’re embarrassed at your current state. For once, you’ve finished your assignments early, so you’ve spent the past four hours in your pajamas watching K-dramas and snacking on honey chips. You must look like a bum.

Mark on the other hand, always looks good, even in some old dress slacks, and an old t-shirt with some holes in it. He smells faintly of antiseptic, so he must have just come from a volunteering shift at the hospital. 

“It’s nice of you to drop by,” you poke the straw into the bubble tea. “And thank you for the bubble tea.”

“You’ve been busy recently so I figured you’d need it for the caffeine content, but it’s not like you sleep anyway.” he jokes. “How’s the term paper going?”

“The term paper? Oh right, the term paper. It’s alright,” you lie. “Just a couple of pages left. Beats having to take the MCAT though.”

Mark looks tired, with his hair slightly overgrown and his dark circles hallower than usual. You feel bad—he has a habit of overworking himself; you’re usually there to check on him but lately you haven’t, and he’s kind and thoughtfull enough to bring you something because he thinks you’re stressed.

“Yeah tell me about it,” Mark takes a seat next to you on your bed, head hitting the wall with a soft thump. “It’s going to be all over next week though, I can’t wait. I’ve missed you though.”

Busy silently cursing at yourself for the way your heart flutters at his admission, you forget to respond. Mark frowns, places his hand on your thigh in an attempt to soothe you, and it has the opposite effect—you think you might go into cardiac arrest. 

“Is something wrong?”

“N-no.” you stammer. “Just stressed. ”

Mark makes things worse by leaning in closer, gently placing the back of his hand on your forehead. “You’re kinda hot.”

“I am?”

“Yeah, like I think you may be running a fever.”

He hops off the bed, and rummages around in his little black bag, and pulls out a thermometer. He places a little sleeve on the end, and motions for you to open your mouth. When it beeps, he takes it out of your mouth and looks at the result.

“Your temperature is fine, but you should rest. I’ll see you soon okay?” He pats your head. “Take it easy, I know you’ll do great.”

…

You might not have a term paper, but what you do have is a physics final. 

The desk area is littered with eraser dust, crumpled paper, and half filled styrofoam cups of coffee that have since gotten stale. You swear to god that Physics was a subject meant to torture, not enrich the lives of college students. At this rate, you were seriously debating dropping out to become a stripper. 

Haechan, not sensing your dismay, disrupts your plans to drop out by telling you something that puts a damper on the rest of your day, as if Physics wasn’t doing that already.

“Have you noticed that Mark’s been hanging out a lot with that one girl lately? What’s her name? So-bin, Yee-ben, Ben 10, ”

“Yebin,” you snap. “And don’t ever disrespect Ben 10 like that again. ”

Haechan lifts his hands up, “ I agree she’s a total bitch, but man is she hot.”

“Aren’t you supposed to make me feel better, not worse?” 

Haechan’s face softens and for once in his life, looks a little sorry. “All I’m saying is if you don’t do something soon, someone might do it for you. I overheard her saying something about her and Mark going to spring fling together.”

He’s not wrong, but Mark, at Spring fling? At a Darty? Willingly? His idea of a good time was studying.

“You’re kidding,” you scoff.  “As if he’d be caught dead at something like that.”

“I don’t know (y/n). He doesn’t really have much else to do now that the MCAT is over.”

Right, the MCAT. He took it last week. You mentally slap yourself for not asking how it went. 

“Speak of the devil.” Haechan says quietly, motioning behind you.

There she is through the glass, Yebin, pulling a seat next to Mark, not before sneaking up behind him and planting a fat kiss right on his cheek.

…

Maybe if this were a movie, you’d cry all weekend and he’d make it up to you; But this is real life, so you secretly cry for a week and sulk for the rest of the month, blaming your puffy eyes on seasonal allergies (In real life, Mark can’t make it up to you because he did nothing wrong. He’s also not even aware that you like him, but that’s besides the point).

Despite Haechan’s attempt to convince you that it could’ve been just a friendly kiss, a greeting kiss, a whatever kiss, you insist that you’re done with your little crush, that it had shriveled up and died. Although not so convinced, Haechan drops the subject all together and instead resorts to comforting you in his own way, which mainly just consists of making fun of you about other things.

Mark is a touchy subject, and you’re still avoiding him. Why? You don’t really know. You know it’s not fair to Mark, who is probably very hurt and confused at your lack of communication. Nonetheless, he doesn’t question it, and is so infuriatingly mature with his emotions that you suspect that he even respects it, because he stops texting you after a while. 

You feel bad about stonewalling him, leaving him in the dark, but really, what would you say to him? 

“Sorry-I-haven’t-been-talking-to-you-it’s-just-that-I’m-in-love-with-you-and-I’m-butthurt-that-you-have-a-girlfriend-of-course-it’s-not-really-your-fault-but-”

You shudder at the thought, because it’s just plain embarrassing. 

But really, you’re not the best at expressing your emotions—you’ve never been. Frankly, you’re tired of expressing your emotions because it never got you anywhere. Not with your mom, not with your dad, and definitely not with Yuta, who you dated for a year and half a year just to dump you like you were nothing. 

It’s not worth it, to put your emotions on the line for anyone, not anymore. You locked your heart away a long time ago, and you were a fool to let it come out last time, and you like to think you learn from your mistakes.

At least, that’s what you think, until you return home one Sunday night from the library and see a little cup of your favorite milk tea at the door, with a straw neatly balanced on the top. 

…

When spring fling rolls around, you still haven’t spoken to Mark, and if your friends catch on, they don't mention it. They know by now that you prefer to deal with things alone, to digest them for what they are and then promptly moving on—you know, like processing a death. 

It doesn’t really matter, you think. You and Mark have always been friends, and will always be friends. Nothing more, nothing less. And when you get over yourself, things will be fine. 

But really, how can it be fine when your whole world stops every time Mark looks at you?

You try not to dwell on it, even now weeks later. You’re busy getting ready to go out, blotting your lipstick on some tissue paper in your friend Yuna’s bathroom. 

“(y/n), you look amazing.”

When you turn to look at yourself in the mirror she’s right; The mascara you put on your lashes really brings out the color of your eyes, and your skin (thanks to Yuna’s highlighter compact) is literally glowing. You feel really pretty.

You turn to smile at her. “Thanks to you.” you tell her, and she gets bashful, pushing you out of the seat and ushering you out the door. You make it down stairs no problem, but she calls you as soon as you walk out the door.

“Yes, I have blotting papers with me, and no, I am not dating Haechan I’ve told you thousands of times-”

“What about me?” 

You turn around to find Haechan leaning against the dormitory wall, already waiting. 

Embarrassed, you tell her you need to go and hang up the phone. 

“How long have you been standing here? Hopefully not too long.” You apologize, but he assures you it’s all right.  

“Are you sure your friends are fine with you leaving them early to go with me?”

“Yes Haechan, they’re just happy that I have someone to go with.” you sigh. “Almost too happy.” 

He laughs, after looking at you, he pauses. “You look nice.”

“You do too, Hyuck.”

If you didn’t know any better, you would say he seems embarrassed at your compliment. 

When you walk into the venue, you’re not surprised at how spacious it is. You’re used to your school going all out, from the kale salads and now, spring fling. They might as well call it spring semi-formal, because everyone is dressed their best. 

You see Johnny at the end of the punch table, and he waves, motioning for you two to join him. 

“And my favorite couple,” he greets you two, and you almost smack him upside down the head. 

“Relax, I’m just kidding.” and he leans in for a hug. “How are you (y/n), I haven’t seen you in a second.” 

“I’m good, just been super busy. You were so right, Professor Kim has been really keeping me on my toes in Physics 430,” you laugh. “Every time I walk into the classroom I can feel my life flash through my very eyes.”

He laughs, and you all laugh with him. Johnny tends to have that kind of effect on people.

“How’s Mark?” he asks, and you cringe. “It’s been a while.”

You laugh nervously  “ I haven’t seen him in a while either.”

“Oh really. Don’t you see each other every week?”

“Well we used to,” you panic. “Just not anymore because, you know, I-”

“Because you’ve been so busy,” Haechan finishes.

Johnny gives you two a strange look but continues talking anyway.

“Well that’s life. Poor boy’s been studying for the MCAT like his rent is due tomorrow.”

“More like everyday.” Haechan snickers. 

Johnny doesn’t hesitate to flame Haechan for his insolence, and begins teasing him for almost failing Calc II (Calc II was kind of hard you admit but that is an admission that will die with you), meanwhile, you’re whisked away by Yuna and her entourage. You glance at Johnny and Haechan, who bid you farewell with a nod of their heads.

It’s fun, you’re having a great time dancing, and eating mini hot dogs on a toothpick (you guess your university had to cut corners somewhere). When Roxanne plays, you and Yuna go wild, nearly knocking over a waiter over with a silver tray. You have so much fun, that you forget that Mark Lee exists until you make eye contact across the floor. 

It's no surprise that he’s with Yebin, who looks annoyingly prettier than usual, with her makeup all done and satin dress. She’s pulling him in the opposite direction, but Mark seems to pay no mind, instead staying in place, looking at you. A moment passes, and you see him excusing himself. When he begins to head your direction. You panic. 

Before you can even react, you feel an arm wrap around your waist, pulling you close. When you finally turn to see who it is, you’re nose to nose with none other than Haechan.

“What are you doing?” 

“Just go along with it,” Haechan whispers through his teeth. Your hands are pressed against his chest, and he grabs one of your arms, placing it around his neck.

“Go along with what? Have you lost your mind-” 

Before you can finish your sentence, his lips press against yours and your mind goes blank. He tastes like peppermint and aftershave, with his lips soft in the center and just a little chapped around the edges.  

When you two finally part, Mark is nowhere to be found, and you don’t know how to feel. 

“Haechan I-” you stammer. “I need to go.” 

You hurry off, and he doesn’t follow you. 

…

When you’re outside, it’s  cold; the air is brisk and definitely doesn’t help steady your breathing, it only makes it harder. It’s a lot to process, Mark, Yebin, Haechan. It’s a lot, and you feel like you’re in emotional overdrive, with all the feelings you’ve been trying to keep in for the past few months coming back to bite you.

You sit down at the edge of the fountain outside the venue, and you nearly get soaked. It misses you by mere inches, with the ceramic fish looking at you almost mockingly. You don’t care, with all the thoughts running through your head right now, you think you might go insane. 

You don’t know how long you’ve been sitting there at the fountain when you feel something wrap around you, warm like it was just taken out of the dryer. It smells familiar, like cologne and faintly of antiseptic—it smells like Mark.

You don’t look at him when he sits down next to you, legs open, hands crossed. And he doesn’t look at you. It’s radio silent.

“So you and Haechan, huh.”

“So you and Yebin.” you echo. 

Mark looks at you for the first time, confused. “What are you talking about?”

“You know what I mean.”

“Oh that.” He shuffles awkwardly. “I don’t really like her like that.”

Your head raises in surprise, and you face each other for the first time in months.

“I thought you guys had a thing.”

Mark scratches the back of his head. “Well we do, but it’s just in her head” he says, and you can’t help but laugh. “She came onto me last week, so I finally set things straight.” Noticing your reaction, he just shakes his head. 

 “I don’t think it worked though,” he adds.

“I would think, you’ve always been too nice for your own good.” 

“I just didn’t want to hurt her feelings, you know?” he murmurs. “I feel terrible.”

“You’re not a terrible person just because you don’t like someone back.”

“Maybe not, but I believe not wanting you and Haechan to be together does.”

It takes a moment for his words to register within you, and even after you process them, you’re not sure what to say.

“We don’t like each other like that.” you interrupt him.

Mark looks visibly confused. “Then you and Haechan aren’t??” his voice falters.

“No more than you and Yebin. I promise you it’s not what it seems like.” you tell him and it finally clicks. You’d have to thank the idiot later. Right after you slap him.

Mark doesn’t question it, not even when you start crying. You don’t question it either, unsure of why you’re crying. 

“You’re so stupid,” you sniffle. “I’ve liked you for so fucking long.” 

Mark pulls out his pocket square to gently wipe the tears from your face, and places his hand on top of yours. 

“You’re ridiculous, you know that? You could have just said something.” his says softly

“I didn’t want to ruin anything. We’ve always just been friends.”

“I think we’ve always been just more than that.” he says, leaning in, hands cup your face gently. 

 “Just took some of us a little longer to realize.”

....

“That was very nice of you,” Johnny says. 

“Yeah. Very nice.” Haechan echos. 

“How long has it been, that you’ve liked her for? Three years?”

“Two going on three.” 

Johnny lets out a low whistle, and looks down at the younger boy worriedly. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?”

Haechan glances at you and Mark through the glass, outside the venue. With Mark whispering in your ear and you laughing, you seem so happy; happier than you’ve ever been with him.

“Yeah, I am. More than okay.”

[talkcloneshipstome]

This is not the proper one word format, but could I request Echo/Fives/Tup, maybe newly ARC!Tup being welcomed back from training? 💙

Almost surprisingly, writing this prompt took nowhere near as long as I had expected it to, especially given the fact that I just started it... Oh, an hour or less ago. If it feels rushed and weird, I apologize and blame it entirely upon that. But thank you for the prompt! I absolutely adore this ship, as you well know.

This takes place in an AU where Revenge of the Sith either doesn’t happen, happens much later than it does in canon, or happens differently. Fives didn’t die, Echo was rescued and rejoined the 501st, and they both got married to Tup at separate times through all this. If you have questions about specifics, because I think making the whole thing work is really fun, feel free to hit me up! I hope you like this <3

Ten minutes.

That’s hardly any time at all. Just ten more minutes, and he’ll be back. He’ll be off this ship and back where he belongs. With his legion, his company, his husbands. He’ll be home again.

Oh, Tup is so ready to be home. He’s been missing his brothers and riduur’e something fierce.

It’s been six weeks that he’s been away from them. Six weeks of what Tup can really only describe as Hell. No, it wasn’t all bad. But ARC training isn’t supposed to be easy. If it was easy, everyone would do it.

But they don’t. It’s not for just anyone. It’s for the best of them. The soldiers who’ve proven themselves, gone above and beyond. It’s the second most rewarding kind of torture that Tup has ever experienced, right after the long months in which he pined silently for the men who would become his husbands.

And yikes had that taken a while.

After six weeks away, one would think that Tup could handle another ten minutes. You’d think he wouldn’t be so keyed up and nervous. Six weeks away is an insane amount of time. Anything could have happened between then and now, and Tup wouldn’t know. Okay, maybe that’s not quite true. Tup would have heard about anything important. They weren’t completely cut off during ARC training. In fact, they were actively encouraged to talk to their squads and the vode they’d left behind as much as they could. Within reason, of course.

Truth be told, Tup hadn’t expected that. But after the first few days, he realized why it was encouraged. There wasn’t a lot of free time in when training to become an ARC, mostly because if you weren’t drilling, studying, eating, or being tested, you were probably sleeping. That’s about all the energy Tup had left in his downtime. He slept and when it finally felt as if he’d struck up a good balance of feeling rested without sleeping constantly, then he and the other candidates found their own ways to entertain themselves.

(Tup has played so many impromptu games of hide-and-seek and hidden in the smallest and strangest places, he’s pretty sure he could fit himself into the tiny duct in Torrent’s barracks and never be found.)

The point is, he found time to stay in contact with Fives, Echo, and Rex. It took a bit of time to get figured out, but it happened nonetheless. But he hadn’t had the energy or time to miss them in the past weeks, being as busy and exhausted as he as been. It was sort of nice, in a strange and painful kind of way. It felt less like the world might end at any given moment, despite the fact that he’s aware it wouldn’t have stopped, even if he was at ARC training.

So with only— five minutes left to go, Tup thinks he’s about to vibrate right out of his seat. There’s a buzzing under his skin that he can’t get rid of. No amount of pacing or fidgeting with calm the nerves he feels riling up in his stomach. Sure, he may be an ARC now with more muscle than he’d left with, but he’s still Tup.

Tup is confident, but he’s always been a little bit of a worrier. A nervous kid, as far as clones go. Not for himself, but for others. His batchmates, the members of his squad, his fellow troopers in Torrent company. He worries about his husbands. Yeah, Tup grins easily and plays pranks with the best of them, but he’s nervous, too.

Becoming an ARC didn’t train that out of him. Comes with the territory of having loved ones, Tup supposes.

He’s so lost in thought that he hardly even recognizes when the shuttle lands in the bay. His head jerks up and he shoots from his seat again, eager to get out of the small space. He doesn’t have to wait long. After a second, the door opens with a hiss, folding downwards and ramping to the durasteel floor of the main hangar.

Tup breathes a little easier, seeing Rex standing a few feet from the ramp, waiting for him. He’s not alone, but there’s a twinge of sorrow in his chest when none of the paint matches with the two people he wants to see the most.

Still, he grins seeing his captain and vode again. Tup strides confidently down the ramp, all too aware of the extra weight on his shoulders and hips that his brand new kama and pauldrons have added. His armor is all new and white, freshly painted with Torrent’s ever darkening shade of blue paint. He keeps his helmet tucked securely beneath his arm, even as he comes to a halt in front of Rex and salutes him.

“Captain,” he says, smirking a lopsided grin. Rex returns the look and salute.

“Welcome back, ARC trooper Tup,” the blond man says. It stirs something in Tup’s stomach to hear his captain address him like that. Tup swells with pride, puffing his chest out and titling his chin just slightly higher.

Tup returns to a more relaxed position after that. Torrent new has stood on very much ceremony.

Tup can’t resist turning his head side to side, looking for the two people he wants to see most.

“So how was it?” Rex asks.

“Hell,” Tup responds cheerfully. Rex chuckles.

“Yeah, I remember. Was it as bad as we all made it out to be?”

Tup catches Jesse’s smirk as he comes up and leans into Rex’s shoulder, proudly wearing his own kama.

“No, no,” Tup says with a wave of dismissal. “It was much worse.”

That gets everyone around them busting out in fits of laughter. Tup can’t help but join in, even through his disappointment as his partners not being there to welcome him home.

Finally, he plucks up the courage to ask what’s on his mind. A part of him is worried that he won’t like the answer. Worries that he’s come home to broken pieces that need to be picked up and glued back together again. Assuming there are any pieces left to mend.

“Where are Echo and Fives?” he asks, casting another curious eye around the hanger. They have not magically appeared.

Both Rex’s and Jesse’s faces turn downwards in odd facsimiles of sad frowns. Tup narrows his eyes at them. He doesn’t think they’re about to lie to him, but those aren’t the faces of two brothers with bad news. Those are the faces of two of his brothers who are up to something and trying to convince him that they’re not.

“They’re out on a mission, actually. It couldn’t be helped—”

Tup quirks a brow up at them, shifting his weight to the side and cocking his hip out, full of as much sass as he can muster.

Given the amusement that flashes through both their eyes, Tup isn’t sure if he’s succeeded or not.

“Really? Because I think—”

Two sets of boots clatter suddenly into motion behind him in the same moment two extremely familiar voices cry out in excited greeting. Tup finds himself swept off his feet by two pairs of strong arms hardly before he can even react. Which is slightly embarrassing, given how he has literally just gotten back from ARC training. You’d think he’d be ready and equipped for this!

But he wasn’t. His feet are no longer touching the floor, and he has to throw his arms around someone’s — Fives, he’s pretty sure — shoulders in the hopes of not finding himself on his ass in a few seconds. Echo crushes him between the two of them, squeezing the living daylights out of Tup in a giant bear hug.

Tup wishes he could say it hurts less than it used to when they were both stronger than him. It doesn’t they have perfected this ambush-hug of theirs so that it always takes him off guard. He’s not actually hurting, because neither would really hurt him, but they do knock the breath from his lungs for a second.

Both Fives and Echo are saying things at him, talking loud with cheer in their voices and bright smiles on their faces. They do set him down after a second, but the hug doesn’t end. Tup finds that he hopes it never ends. He’d happily just stay right here, squished in between his lovers for the rest of his life, if he was given the choice. Nowhere has he felt more loved, happy, or accepted than in their arms.

He can’t help the relieved, happy tears that gather in the corners of his eyes, threatening to wet his cheeks.

Six weeks since he’s seen them last. Six weeks since he kissed them. Six weeks since they hugged him.

Six weeks without either of his riduur’e.

It was unacceptable, and Tup hopes to never have to be separated from them for them long again, no matter how irrational that hope may be.

They notice his tears almost before Tup does himself. The hug gentles into something tender and grounding as they both coo praises and love and reassurances at them.

Tup absolutely thinks they’re both dicks for trying to make him think they wouldn’t be here to welcome him home, but that hardly matters. It doesn’t matter because even with their concern and through his tears, Echo gets him to laugh. The three giggle together, they wipe away Tup’s tears before they can spill over. His husbands take turns kissing him over and over again until he’s smiling at them and feeling a little boneless from the love seeping into him even through the plastoid of his armor.

And, okay, maybe he’s still tired, too.

“We missed you,” Echo promises into the back of Tup’s neck after a moment. His hands have found their way into Tup’s half-loose hair. It’s braided back in some not at all intricate design, but it’s still much fancier than when he throws it up into the tight bun he usually prefers.

“I missed you, too,” he says back. Fives smiles at him, brushing the pads of his thumbs over Tup’s cheekbones.

“Look at you,” he says. “Tup, our husband. An ARC trooper.”

“Bet you didn’t see this coming when I was just a shiny on Umbara,” Tup jokes, wiping at his own eyes. “I told you I could do it though.”

Fives’ eyes are so soft as he gazes lovingly at him. Tup feels himself melting just at the expression.

“I always knew you could.”

[creacherkeeper]

Sometimes Aziraphale feels old. Or, he feels weary and achy and tired. He is old, that’s for certain, but angels don’t really get old. He’d been wearing this face since the dawn of time, and sometimes his cheeks were plumper or thinner, and sometimes there were bags under his eyes, but it hadn’t aged a day. Sometimes he remembers the inquisitions, the revolutions, the crusades, the war and the horror of it all, and he laments how much his years have let him see. 

And then Crowley will do something like start humming. He’s wandering around the bookshop, idly rearranging things. Aziraphale doesn’t have his books arranged by the alphabet or Dewey Decimal--no silly human classification. He’s not an animal, he has a system, it’s just that only he knows what it is. And Crowley, maybe. He seems to have figured it out, or otherwise is using his demonic instincts, because he’s putting the books he plucks from the shelves in exactly the worst place he could put them. Aziraphale would be mad, but it gives him something to look busy doing when customers come in asking questions. 

He can’t place the tune. It’s familiar, so familiar, but he can’t place it. He doesn’t realize at first that he’s been following Crowley around the shop, brows furrowed, following the sound like a bee tracking pollen. 

Crowley finally notices him, but doesn’t stop, making contact through his glasses as he reshelves a book. The humming gets a little louder, a little more pointed and teasing. 

“What is that tune?” Aziraphale finally asks. “It’s driving me mad.” 

Crowley quirks a grin, taking a moment before he stops to respond. “Willard Bourke. Pianist. We saw him play in the 70s, in that little tavern, you remember. You thought he was handsome.” 

Aziraphale blushes, but, yes, he does remember now. They’d been there for a drink, and Aziraphale had been mesmerized by the man’s deft fingers. “Ah.” Aziraphale clears his throat. Crowley says the 70s, like there’d been only one of them, but it had in fact been the 1770s when they’d heard him play. “I do remember, yes. I thought he’d be famous. Pity no one remembers.” 

“We do,” Crowley says, and goes back to humming. 

Or that time he stops by Crowley’s flat, just for some tea, just for a chat. He finds Crowley in the middle of cooking, cursing quietly to himself. The demon looks frustrated. He’s positively glowering when Aziraphale enters. 

Aziraphale surveys his ingredients, face screwing in confusion. “Whatever are you cooking?” 

“Stew,” Crowley responds glumly. “Or, at least, I’m trying to. I can’t get it right.” 

“Part of the joy of stew is that you don’t have to get it right.” He waves his hands. “The pot does most of the work.” 

Crowley hisses, raising his fingers to rub against his eyes. “No, it’s ... It’s a specific stew. I’ve been craving it for ages, but no one makes it anymore. It came with these little roasted dill seed bread balls and ...” He cuts himself off. 

“Crowley--” Aziraphale squints suspiciously. “How old is this recipe, exactly?” 

Crowley sighs, already defeated. “Mesopotamia?” he ekes out, abashed. 

Aziraphale laughs. “Oh, good! It’ll be a challenge, then.” He pulls the spoon from Crowley’s hand, taking a sip. “Juniper berries,” he decides. “You need juniper berries.” 

Or when Warlock is young, maybe 6, not more than 7, though Aziraphale finds it so hard to keep track. He and Nanny Ashtoreth are sitting in the garden, drawing. It’s one of the rare moments when they’re both calm, worn out from a long day of chasing and yelling and plotting. 

Aziraphale pretends to mind his rosebushes, but he’s been watching them for some time. Finally, he breaks and walks over. 

“Ah, young master Warlock,” he says, peering over their shoulders. “What a wonderful drawing you’ve done. You like dinosaurs, hmm?” 

Warlock looks up, colored pencil held tight in his fist. “Nanny is teaching me about extinct animals. Like dinosaurs and thylacines and unicorns.” 

Aziraphale shoots Nanny Ashtoreth a look. She doesn’t look back. 

Warlock pipes up again. “Nanny invented dinosaurs, did you know?” 

“Did she now?” Aziraphale asks. It’s hard to keep his voice straight, because he knows this to be a fact. Crowley had been quite drunk at the time, but he thought it would be hilarious. “Big ‘ol lizards,” he’d said, “just huge, you know. Like a dragon, but they’ll think they’re real, see. Biggest things ever. ‘ould barely fit in the garden, them. Big buggers.” 

Warlock nods. “My favorite is the T-Rex. Nanny says it would eat you in one bite.” 

Aziraphale hums, discontented, as Nanny Ashtoreth quirks a grin. He spares a glance at what she’s drawing, and stops. It’s the most beautiful drawing of a passenger pigeon he’s ever seen. The reds and blues of it, every detail in its feathers. They’d seen them together, before, before they’d all gotten hunted out. 

“It’s a lovely drawing, Nanny,” he says, voice a little more earnest than he means it to be. 

The pencil stops, then keeps going. 

Warlock looks up at him again. “Nanny says she ate the last one.” 

“I did,” Nanny Ashtoreth responds. “And don’t you forget it.” 

It’s the little things, the things that, by himself, Aziraphale might not remember. It’s the feel of the earliest silk, the thrill of his first moving picture, the clamor of a Roman marketplace on a hot day. Aziraphale is good at the experiencing, but Crowley has always been one for the remembering. Things stick with him. Things that, otherwise, would have been lost to time. 

They’re curled up in bed, two commas together, and it’s been one of those days. Every shine is the glint of a sword, every wayward noise a battle cry, and Aziraphale can’t seem to stop remembering. He remembers the mess and the horror of it, he remembers the loss. All six-thousand years of loss. 

Aziraphale swallows, and he hates how thick his throat feels. “Tell me good things,” he asks, meek, tired, and Crowley hums and presses a kiss into his shoulder. 

Do you remember? Crowley asks, and keeps going. Do you remember, do you remember?

Yes, Aziraphale responds. Yes, yes, I do now. 

They lay there, and remember together, six-thousand years of good and light, and fun and joy, and it’s easier. It doesn’t take away all the bad that he’s seen, but it’s easier. He remembers the food and the smells and the heavy cotton, and the music and the laughter and his first taste of wine. The bad isn’t gone, but there’s good, too, pushing it’s way in to make room. 

Do you remember when we met? Crowley whispers, their hands linking. 

Aziraphale pulls them up to place a kiss against his knuckles. It was so long ago, a lifetime, but yes, he does. 

I remember, he says.