#just domestic clone thoughts

[steakbuilder99]

clone movie night 🎥🍿✨: grease

- tech is pissed off the entire movie. WHY IS THE CAR FLYING 🔈⁉️⁉️

- “it’s just a movie tech, it’s not real”

- crosshair + fox are trying to fight off the demonic urge to just inhale a pack of cigs, they don’t even blink

- wrecker and hardcase are singing along any chance they get. they don’t really know the words, but they’ve got the spirit!

- fives is also singing along. loudly. off key.

- echo has a full bachelors degree in 70s and 80s movies. he is considering disowning fives.

- grease is bly’s favourite movie. hopelessly devoted is HIS song, he doesn’t miss a note. can’t say the same for everyone else though.

- hopelessly devoted can be heard from down the street when it comes on. a chorus of tired/drunk clones fill the sky with song 🎶🎶

- “i’m going to bed i’ve had enough of this shit” - a third of them after hopelessly devoted is finished.

- dogma doesn’t really know what’s going on but he’s happy to be there.

- cody and hunter literally don’t know what’s going on they’ve had so much to drink. just to cope with this movie.

- obiwan supplied the drinks after cody told them they were watching grease.

- howzer is insanely jealous of danny’s hair. he basically adopts danny’s personality after watching the film for a solid 3 days.

- “you look like an absolute twat” - crosshair

- waxer and rex are actively trying to keep omega out of the room because the rating is PG, not G

- omega is smuggled in through tup’s hoodie. mayday and wolffe help keep her hidden.

- “what have you got there??” “chips” “share?” “piss off”

- “i dance better than that!” - jesse. he really can’t. mans has two left feet.

- kix and hound are incredibly sad to have missed movie night this week. they LOVE grease.

- slick and boil are not. they hate grease with an active passion. but they’re unfortunately stuck on the couch grumbling throughout the movie.

- waxer and thire practice their moves throughout the movie. they think they’re absolutely killing it, and for the most part are, but omega nearly blows her cover laughing at them.

- ponds is the first to get popcorn. he doesn’t sit down again until he’s finished running kitchen errands for everyone else. it’s an hour and a half into the movie by then.

- gregor is clapping, he’s singing, he’s dancing, it’s love at first sight for gregor. for the rest of the week he’s blasting grease songs. this is the only movie he can sit through aside from charlie and the chocolate factory.

- wolffe doesn’t dare move. he can’t let everyone know he’s watched grease 50 times over. he mustn’t.

- “SIT DOWN FOR KRIFF’S SAKE” - wolffe at some point

- “…. thought you hated gr-“ “SHUT THE FUCK UP”

- snoring can be heard in the last 20 minutes of the movie. everyone is passed out afterwards.

- except for omega, gregor, echo, and surprisingly fox. fox and gregor, both insanely drunk, are basically reenacting the movie on the lawn. omega and echo are laughing at them, joining in on the occasional number.

- “10 more minutes echo please!” “fine, only because i’m too tired to argue with you rn”

[a-lil-perspective]

Honestly can’t tell you how many times I’ve thought about a domestic cabin in the woods with Crosshair, standing at the counter drinking tea when he comes home and having just the most tender sex on the kitchen counter while the sun rises/sets in the background..

It’s good stuff.

I think he would love the seclusion a nice cabin brings. I know I talk about his main playground being urban-centric (and thus opportunistic) places like Coruscant BUT I think during his down time he would love nothing more than to retreat into the woods to be in solitude. I think that’s his quiet place. His time to recharge and reset. Just him and nature and Firepuncher and a practiced patience, where he’s at his best.

Of course it’d be a million times better with his lover at the door waiting for him.

[artbyblastweave]

I think about Star Wars a lot more than I post about Star Wars, and I've had some free time recently to type up some thoughts on Episode 7 that've been swirling around in my head for a couple of years. There were a few ideas and plot beats, and moments of apparent self-examination in Episode 7 which I thought were fairly compelling, even though they ultimately paid no dividends:

First was Finn’s character concept. “Star Wars as experienced from the perspective of a Stormtrooper undergoing a crisis of faith” is a rich hook; humanizing and giving a face to what's basically the platonic implementation of the faceless mook. Unfortunately, the potency of the arc was undercut by the pre-existing textual ambiguity as to what stormtroopers actually are. Star Wars extended canon has settled on the idea that each trilogy features an entirely novel cohort of white-clad mooks, each with a fundamentally different underlying dynamic. The clones and the First-Order forces are different flavors of slave army; in contrast, the stormtroopers are more frequently portrayed in the expanded universe as military careerists, stormtrooper being a thing you work up to rather than a gig for a fresh conscript. A slave-soldier who defects is a very different character from a military careerist who defects, and they invite different analysis. There's a bait-and-switch going on here, in that Finn gestures in the direction of the familiar OT stormtroopers but can't comment on or examine them because he's actually part of a novel dynamic invented for the new movies. And there's one final nail in the coffin here, signaled by the number of times I've had to invoke the expanded universe so far. When Finn debuted, the racists were of course, legion, but I also ran into a number of people who were sincerely confused as to why they'd recast Temuera Morrison. Going off the seven films that existed at the time, it wasn't unreasonable to read the prequel trilogy as an origin story for where the OT stormtroopers came from. Going only off the nine films that exist now, it still isn't unreasonable! It's muddied from so many different directions by their failure to establish the ground rules in the mainline films before they tried to put on subversive airs about it. I am still irritated by this.

Next up is how Han Solo was written. I actually liked the tack they took with him quite a bit. Because initially, right, his role in the movie is just to be Han Solo. He's back, and he hasn't changed! He's still kicking ass and taking names, he's still the lovable scoundrel you knew and loved from your childhood- and the principle cast members react to his presence with the same reverence the film's trying to invoke in the audience, they've grown up hearing the same stories about him. Except that episode 7, at least, is also very aware of the fact that if Han Solo is still recognizably the same guy thirty years on, it indicates that things have gone totally off the rails for him. We find out that the lovable rogue routine is the result of him backsliding, his happy ending blown up by massive personal tragedy rooted in communicative failures and (implicitly) his parental shortcomings. It feels deliberately in conversation with the nostalgic impulse driving the entire film- here's your childhood hero back just as you remember, here's what that stagnation costs. And it also feels like it's in conversation with what was a fairly common strain of Han Solo Take- the idea that Ep. 6 cuts off at a very convenient point, and that Han and Leia's fly-by-night wartime relationship wouldn't survive the rigors of domesticity. Obviously, that's not the only direction you can take with the character; the old EU basically threaded the needle of keeping Han recognizable without rolling back his character development gains. But it felt like they were actually committing to a direction, a direction that was aware of the space, and not a reflexively deferential and flattering one, which at the time I appreciated! The problem, of course, is that for it to really land, you need to have a really, really strong idea of what actually went down-of what Han's specific shortcomings and failures were. And given the game of ping-pong they proceeded to play with Kylo Ren's characterization, this turned out to be. Less than doable.

Kylo Ren is the third thing about Episode 7 that I liked. His character concept is basically an extended admission by the filmmakers that there's no way to top Vader as an antagonist. Instead, they lean into the opposite direction- they make him underwhelming on purpose. Someone who's chasing Vader's legacy in the same way any post-OT Star Wars villain is going to, pursuing Vader's aesthetic and the associated power without really understanding or undergoing the convoluted web of suffering and dysfunction that produced Vader. It's framed as a genuine twist that there's nothing particularly wrong with his face under that helmet. Whatever it takes to be Vader, he doesn't have it, and he knows that he doesn't have it, and the pursuit of it drives him to greater and greater acts of cartoonish villainy. The failure to one-up Vader is offloaded to the character instead of the writers, and it was genuinely interesting to watch. For one movie. The problem, of course, is that if the entire character archetype is "Vader, but less compelling," you can't try to give the bastard Vader's exact character arc. You can't retroactively bolt on a Vader-tier tragic backstory when you spent a whole movie signaling that whatever happened to him wasn't as compelling as what happened to Vader. You can't milk his angst for two more movies when it's the kind of angst on display in "Rocking the Suburbs" by Ben Folds!

There's a level on which I feel like Moff Gideon was a semi-successful implementation of Vader-Wannabe concept; he's the same kind of middling operator courting the Vader Aesthetic for clout, but he's doing it in the context of the imperial warlord era, where there's a lot of practical power available to anyone who can paint themselves to the Imperial Remnants as a plausible successor to Vader. Hand in Hand with this obvious politicking, Gideon is loathsome, which relieves the writers of the burden of having to plausibly redeem the guy; he's doing exactly what he needs to do and there'll never be a mandate to expand him beyond what his characterization can support. Unfortunately, the calculated and cynical nature of how he's emulating Vader precludes the immaturity and hero-worship elements on display with Kylo, which is unfortunate; the sincerity on display in Kylo's pursuit of authenticity is an important part of why he worked, to the extent that he worked at all, and it'd be worth unpacking in a better trilogy. As he stands Kylo is a clever idea, and that's all he is- he lacks the scaffolding to go from merely clever to actively good.

[notjustjavierpena]

How did reader reveal that she was pregnant with Lucas?

Bun (Drabble)

Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost

A/N: This might be heavily influenced by a TikTok that I watched months ago. I hope you like it. It seemed to fit a first-time-pregnant couple.

Summary: You do a pregnancy reveal for Javier!

Pairing: Javier Peña x reader (no y/n)

Tags: Domestic fluff, pregnancy reveal, hugs and kisses, Javi is a himbo, reader is a MILF

Word count: 700

Bun

“How bad is it? Is it very bad?” You ask, peeking over Javier’s shoulder and into the oven. It’s a miracle that the smoke detector has not gone off because a tiny cloud has just emerged from your oven.

“Honey,” Javier sighs dramatically. He has oven mittens on, pulling out a rack from the oven whilst you are giggling, “I love you so much but why would you make a single roll? How did you even measure the ingredients?”

He places the rack on top of the stove. On the baking sheet lies a single bun, black from charcoal as you have accidentally forgotten about it in your excitement to tell your secret. You roll your eyes but cannot stop smiling. You know something he does not, “It’s not a roll, it’s a bun.”

Javier pulls off the oven mitts and hangs them in their usual spot on a hook on the wall, furrowing his brow, “Okay?”

“What did you just pull out of the oven?” You say. You really thought that he was going to get there sooner.

“A burnt roll,” he replies with slight exasperation.

“Noooo,” you laugh at his obliviousness, “It’s still not a roll. It’s a bun.”

“Fine,” he shakes his head, “A burnt bun then.”

“It’s a bun,” you try to spell it out for him, “… In the oven.”

“Uh-huh? Yeah?” He narrows his eyes in confusion.

“We have a bun in the oven,” you smirk.

“I just pulled it out,” he argues.

You run a hand over your face, and then you start laughing loudly but it only seems to annoy your husband. If he only knew that you want to make a joke about pulling out being too little too late.

“What? Why are you laughing?” He is starting to lose patience with you.

“Javi,” you say his name sweetly when you finally start to calm down, “We’re having a baby.”

The sentence’s meaning takes a moment for him to process but suddenly, his eyebrows rise up into his hair. He looks much younger now, mouth falling open in amazement and awe, “Wait, what? Are you serious?”

“I took a pregnancy test while you were at work,” you giggle as he practically launches himself in your direction. He picks you up from the floor when he hugs you, causing a squeak to leave you, “And then I took two more. They’re all positive.”

“You are joking!” He gapes at you when he places you back down on the floor, mood changing incredibly quickly between surprised, happy, and suspicious. You nod and he runs both hands through his hair, “Are you sure?”

“I’m not joking, and actually I’m positive,” your cheeks are starting to hurt from beaming due to happiness and Javier laughs genuinely at your silly joke. You know it’s only been eight weeks but this just feels so right, and you will confirm it at the doctor’s next week.

“Oh, mi amor. ¡Qué fantástico! (Oh, my love. How fantastic)!” His kiss takes you by surprise but you hold onto his wrists as he cups your face and melt against him, “I love you. I love you. I love you.”

“I love you too,” you bask in your happiness and love when you pull away, bump your noses together, “Now we’ll just have to hope they take after me. Otherwise, we’re in for some serious trouble.”

“Ay,” he tuts as he kisses you a few times more. You pull his hands from your face and wrap his arms around your waist. He hugs you close to his chest, “These strong genes are sure to give you a Peña clone.”

“Alright, Peña,” you giggle into his shoulder, “We get it.”

“It’s really ‘we’ now, huh?” He talks into your ear.

“It was always we. As in I can’t believe we’re going to have a baby,” you say dreamily, “I’ll be a mom.”

“You’ll be a MILF,” he snickers when you pull back to glare at him. You slap his chest.

“Not in front of the b-a-b-y,” you say with fake outrage.

“A M-I-L-F then,” he jokes back.

“You’re incorrigible,” you lean back into his embrace.

He puts his arms around you even tighter, talking against your cheek, “I never know how to behave accordingly around you, Momma.”

.

.

.

FOLLOW @notjustjavierpena-fics s AND TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS 💖❤️💖❤️

[im-totally-not-an-alien-2]

Tim Drake gets thrown forward in time and quickly gets adopted by his evil alternate future self Pheonix and his husband Phantom. The three of them live on a space station orbiting the Earth.

The real issue is that they think he's a clone and they are babying him. He doesn't know what they will do when they find out he isn't actually a clone.

They have been more than accommodating and have let him snoop around to his hearts content, even going so far and to come up behind him while he's trying to hack into thier computer and just casually putting in the passwords for him.

That was embarrassing. How is Phantom so stealthy??? He loves his future evil self as wierd as that sounds. He showed him how to use thier wierd coffee machine and made both of them ten shot espressos.

The entire time there was spent in domestic bliss. How are either of these people villains? The room went silent when asked.

Appearently older Tim's story began when he accidentally killed a pit raged Jason in self defense. The batfam took it way worse than anyone would have thought, especially when the Lazarus Pits failed to revive him again. He was treated coldly as they grieved and tried to find comfort in his friends at the time, but not many people were available.

He stayed in different places, not wanting to head back to the manor and face his family, eventually he caught a signal from a space station that supposedly didn't exist and went to investigate.

Inside he found numerous crumpled bodies, all in white suits. All dead. The station itself looked oddly in tact despite obvious signs of a struggle. Eventually he found Phantom bleeding out on the floor, the destroyed remains of a metal muzzle were still on the ghosts face and Tim made quick work of removing it so he could speak easier.

Tim nursed Phantom back to health in the station and the ghost made the bodies disappear. Tim never learned what he did with all of them.

Over time Danny revealed what he was and who the GIW were and began answering all his questions. They chose to stay in the station and Phantom began renovating it to be more of a home than a workplace.

The real problems arose when people discovered the station and by extention, Phantom. He defended himself using his powers which caught the attention of both the Justice League and many villains.

The Justice League offered him protection and wanted him to join them, the villains wanted his power and made no effort to hide that fact. Phantom saw them as one in the same. All Danny wanted was to stay in the space station with Tim, who he already had a massive crush on. He didn't mind the swirling darkness he sensed inside of Red Robin, he had it in himself too after all.

At some point the station was under attack and Phantom killed a whole bunch of people to defend himself and his home, something the JL didn't particularly like and Batman himself offered to take him under his wing and train him to fight without killing.

That's when Tim revealed himself and stood next to Phantom, "He already has a teacher"

Things only went downhill from there.

[gloomwitchwrites]

A Clone's Future

CT-7567 Captain Rex x Female Reader

Content & Trigger Warnings: fluff, physical hurt/comfort, light angst, happy ending, domestic elements, brief suggestive themes, kiss, Anakin & Fives make an appearance

Word Count: 4.1k

Rex is a soldier of the Republic. A clone. And it is not worth daydreaming about what it would be like to have a family. But he does just that, not knowing that there is someone out in the galaxy waiting for him.

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // fluffuary 2024 masterlist

“I saw you eyeing that woman at Seventy Nines.”

Rex glances up from his datapad and flushes, rubbing the back of his neck. Fives grins down at Rex, arms crossed over his chest, one hip slightly popped.

“It was nothing,” mutters Rex, stepping around Fives’ comment.

The corner of Fives’ mouth quirks as he tries to hide a knowing smile. “Nothing? You were practically drooling,” laughs Fives, gently tossing his helmet on the bunk next to Rex’s. “Why didn’t you approach her?”

Rex blinks, confused. “Why would I?”

Fives shakes his head. “She was staring at you too, Captain. We all saw it.”

Rex looks back at the datapad, wanting to be done with this conversation. “And if I talked to her, what then?”

Fives shrugs. “You talk to a beautiful woman. Flirt a bit.” Fives leans in and Rex glances up from the datapad. “Slip into a dark corner for some—”

“That’s enough, Fives,” interjects Rex, his stomach twisting with understanding.

Fives pats Rex’s shoulder and then plops down next to Rex in the bunk. “This war is going to end. What do you plan to do after its over?”

What is he going to do? Rex hasn’t even thought about it. Hasn’t given the idea any life. Rex is a soldier of the Republic. Duty comes first. It always does. Thinking about the future when that future is entirely uncertain will only create heartache in the end.

“Haven’t thought about it,” answers Rex truthfully. Maybe Fives will drop this, and Rex can return to reading the latest war reports.

“Why not?” asks Fives, clearly not interested in moving on.

Rex’s grip on the sides of the datapad tightens.

Why not? Because fantasizing about the future in any capacity leaves Rex vulnerable and open to the realities of his situation. His family are his fellow clones. They are his brothers. All the family he needs is right here. Why would he ever need to consider anything beyond what is already in front of him?

“I don’t see the point,” answers Rex. “We don’t know when this war will end.” He pauses. “And some days we aren’t sure if we’ll even see tomorrow.”

Fives snorts. “That’s the whole reason why you should.”

“Fives—”

“We’re alive, Rex. We are people and we feel. We may serve the Republic, but we deserve to dream like the citizens we protect.” Fives reaches for his helmet and holds it reverently in his lap, the front side facing him. “In peacetime, we deserve a bit of happiness.”

Rex is silent a moment before he speaks. “Are you not happy now, Fives?”

Fives glances up and grins. “I’m happy, Rex. But happiness during peacetime is…different. I want to know what that looks like for us. Dreaming about it isn’t wrong.”

Rex didn’t say that it was wrong, but he’s not going to point that out to Fives.

Fives taps the edge of the helmet against his knee, sighing as he stands. “I’ll leave you to your boring war reports, Rex.” At the door, Fives turns, and grins mischievously. “Next time, if she’s there, you’re talking to her.”

The door to the room whooshes open, and Fives disappears into the hall. When it shuts, Rex is left in the lingering silence, the only sound that of the air filtration system. It hums softly, a dull buzz in the background.

Whenever his mind drifts toward the future—which is almost never—Rex rarely allows himself to linger. Maybe it’s because of his position, and that there are thousands counting on him to lead them. So many of his brothers look to him for guidance, even ones from other sections of GAR. He and Cody are always discussing strategies and offering advice.

Rex tries to live in the moment, to focus on what matters right now. But what Fives said is sinking in, lurking at the back of his mind, and drawing his attention away from the datapad in his hands.

This room is a small barracks area, one for captains and other ranked members of the Clone Army can go to rest. No one else is in here. It’s just him. They’re stationed on Coruscant, waiting to depart for a months long campaign. Rex and the rest of the 501st have some time to relax before returning to the battlefield.

Yes, they did go to 79’s last night. Yes, Rex may have had one too many strong drinks. And yes, Rex couldn’t stop staring at the woman giving him flirtatious glances all night.

Rex might be a clone but he’s still a man.

Locking the datapad, Rex sighs heavily, placing it on the edge of the bed. Tiredness sits in his bones, and Rex gives in to the exhaustion, bringing his legs onto the bunk and laying on his back. He stares at the bunk above him, at the smooth, plain metal, and tries his best to forget everything.

Tries is the key word.

Rex does try, but he cannot stop thinking about Fives and what he said.

He slips unexpectedly, falling into that space, considering the future.

The woman Rex pictures in his mind is faceless. He does not consider her features, or what her hair might be like. He does not consider whether this fictional woman is human or Twi’lek or any other species. Instead, Rex contemplates what he needs in someone else. Would she be soft and kind, someone to smooth out his sharp edges, to help him forget the realities of war, and linger in a calmness that soothes his soul? Or is she sharp witted, adventurous, willing to explore the galaxy and isn’t afraid of danger?

Or is she something else entirely?

Rex floats in the possibilities, of what this woman might be like and what she’d mean to him. Would General Skywalker want to meet her? Would he approve? Is it even allowed to him after the war ends? Will the clones have the right to enjoy the things the citizens of the Republic do?

These questions form in his head quickly but evaporate just as fast. Rex imagines warm arms around him, of knowing that there is always someone waiting for him, to share in all his failures and successes. It is a wonderful sensation, a calming sense of peace that ushers into his head and curls itself around him to take hold.

The physical isn’t entirely important to Rex, but he considers it anyway. He conjures up multiple images, giving the faceless woman hair then lekku then hair again, even picturing the woman he couldn’t stop glancing at while at 79’s. These thoughts bring the woman in his head to life a bit more, as if he’s stoking a fire, protecting the flame from extinguishing.

With his eyes closed, Rex imagines soft hands holding his, moving to his wrists and arms to eventually cradle his cheek. Rex sighs audibly, pretending that there is someone next to him in this bed, curled up against his side with their head on his chest.

But when he reaches across his chest to seek this someone out, his fingers only find empty air.

Rex’s eyelids slowly open, and a heaviness fills his chest. This is why Rex does not entertain thoughts of the future. This is why he lives in the present moment and focuses on the immediate needs of his soldiers and the Republic.

It’s self-indulgent. Unnecessary. That is what Rex tells himself as he turns on his side and tries to find some sleepful peace in the dark.

These streets are a maze, and Rex is utterly lost.

His personal communicator is crushed, and there are slavers on his trail. General Skywalker has no idea that Rex is being pursued. He has no idea that Rex took a blaster shot to the leg or that he’s limping along as he attempts to hide from his assailants.

This is supposed to be an undercover job, a way to figure out where an entire village full of Twi’leks were taken to after disappearing. While General Skywalker pretends to be a slaver interested in buying, Rex’s job is to find another way into where the Twi’leks are being held.

The whole thing fell apart. Crashed. Burnt up like an asteroid entering the atmosphere.

Behind him, his pursuers shout, and people scream. They’re closer than before, and Rex needs to find shelter. He needs to throw them off and return to General Skywalker.

He slips in a puddle, nearly stumbling into a pile of trash.

“Kriffing hell,” mutters Rex, staggering, placing one hand against the side of a building to balance himself.

His chest heaves and his leg is screaming, needing to rest.

Their pounding footsteps grow closer, and Rex takes off, dragging his leg along as he turns the corner. It’s shadowy here, and the street is long and narrow. There is nothing for him to hide in or around. The street is lined with residential buildings. There are entry doors and a few windows on the bottom level, but that won’t give him protection.

Desperation sinks in. Rex tries a few of the nearby doors, receiving no response.

There is a shout from the direction of where Rex just came from. “This way!”

Rex growls with frustration. He turns away from the door of one house, only to freeze when he notices the young woman in an open doorway.

“In here. Quickly.”

Rex glances back once and considers the alternative.

Kriff it, he thinks, entering the dimly lit home, the door whooshing shut behind him. Rex’s leg almost gives out beneath him, a sharp pain shooting up his side. He grunts, starts to double over, and his potential savior comes to him, placing their hands upon him gently.

Realizing that there is another person, Rex glances up quickly, the instinct to survive flaring white and hot and bright.

He finds…you.

And it is not what he expects. Because—no. Rex smothers the thought immediately.

There is a shout right outside the door, and you place a firm hand on Rex’s chest, easing him down toward the floor while holding a single finger up for silence. Rex doesn’t say a word, his gaze flicking between you and the door, and back again.

The voices soften, and then Rex doesn’t hear them at all.

When you sigh with relief, Rex relaxes a bit, knowing that he’s been spared some extra time.

But you? You are a mystery to him. Friend? Or foe?

“You’re hurt.” It’s not a question and Rex immediately likes the sound of your voice. “Heard the shouts,” you continue. “Saw you limping.”

Rex swallows. “Why are you helping me?”

Your smile is soft with a hint of mischievousness. “Do you think I like living amongst slavers?”

Rex shrugs. “Wasn’t really on my mind,” he admits.

“That’s fair,” you laugh. “They rarely treat the people who live here much different from the people they sell. I don’t mind disrupting things for them when I can.”

Friend, then.

Rex can work with that.

You glance down at his leg and frown. Your hand hovers just above the spot where the blaster bolt struck his thigh. Rex grimaces as the pain flares anew, like it knows he’s finally safe and demands immediate treatment.

“Can you stand on it?” you ask gently, placing one hand on Rex’s shoulder. Your palm is warm and a flood of comfort bursts inside him like a dam breaking.

What is it about you that’s different? Why does his body respond to you like he’s safe when his brain can’t seem to make the same connection?

Rex knows but stifles the thought again.

“Was running on it,” jokes Rex, trying to make light of that fact that the pain is a throbbing thing that won’t cease.

The smile you give him is so tooth-rottenly sweet that Rex feels heat warming his cheeks.

“Humor. That’s good.” You lean in a bit and Rex is immediately flustered by your closeness. “Means you’ll live.”

You present your hands, palms upward. They look so soft, so inviting, and Rex accepts. You help him to a fully seated position before sliding an arm around his waist to assist him to his feet. Rex drapes an arm over the back of your shoulders as the two of you hobble along.

You lead Rex into a small bedroom. The bed itself is unmade; the sheets tossed around like you’ve slipped out just to come to his rescue. For some reason, Rex pictures this happening, and then quickly dismisses it.

Easing onto the bed is hell, and Rex winces as you help him to his back. Thankfully, Rex isn’t wearing his armor, which will make tending to the wound much easier.

“May I take a look?”

Rex nods and you seat yourself next to him on the edge of the bed. When your hands touch his thigh, a shiver runs through him like an electrical current. You hum softly as you lightly press around the spot of the burn. Rex tries to stay calm, but in this prone position, Rex is only focused on your face.

He learns the line and curves, all your small tells, and the subtle way you tilt your head as you observe him. On Kamino—on any Republic vessel really—most of the medical care is run by droids, Kaminoans, and clones. It is mainly automated. Impersonal.

This isn’t.

You’re so close and delicate, taking so much care with him that Rex is void of words, only wanting you to keep giving him this attention. That memory, the one where he imagined what he wants creeps up unexpectedly, choking him.

Is this the feeling that Fives talked about? Is this the pull, the tug of what it means to try and find happiness outside of just duty to the Republic? Or is Rex only indulging himself while in the hands of a stranger?

“I have some bacta spray and bandages. I’ll be back in a moment.” When you stand, a momentary wave of panic grips Rex out of nowhere, stunning him.

What the kriffing hell is going on with him?

You’re back within a minute, placing the small box next to you as you return to your previous spot on the bed. Rex is instantly calm, relaxing as you consider where you want to begin.

“Could—” you pause. “It would be easier if the pants weren’t in the way. I can cut them or—”

“It’s fine,” replies Rex. “I can…remove them.”

Your eyes widen. “No. I didn’t mean—”

“Oh—”

“But if you want—”

“It’s—”

“I can cut it.”

“Yes,” nods Rex, relieved. “Yes.” Rex could start a fire with how hot his cheeks are.

With delicate fingers, you slowly cut away a perfect rectangle in his pants where the blaster burn is. Placing the cutters aside, you remove the bacta spray from the box.

“It’ll be cold.”

“I know,” answers Rex quickly.

Your eyebrows rise toward your hairline. “Is it normal for you to be hit by blaster fire?”

Kriff me.

“It’s a hazard of the job,” says Rex slowly.

Your lips part like you’re about to say something and then think better of it. “I won’t ask.” Your smile speaks to quiet amusement, and it feels like this one look is only for him. That this is something the two of you are sharing. That no one else is allowed to see inside.

The hiss of the bottle fills the room, and Rex momentarily flinches as the bacta spray hits his burn. Once done, you withdraw a gauze pad. With the other hand, you gently reach for Rex, lifting his own hand.

“Hold this for me,” you murmur, and the sound of your voice is so soft that Rex cannot resist your command.

Rex does as you ask, keeping the gauze pad pressed to the covered blaster burn. You unspool some bandages, and then begin wrapping his leg. You do not go over the pants. Instead, you slide your hand into the opening you created, guiding the end of the bandages underneath to the other side of his thigh.

It all feels too intimate, and Rex can’t help but linger on how close your hand is to something else.

“You can move your hand now.”

“Right,” mutters Rex, blinking quickly, trying to stare at the ceiling but failing completely.

Your subdued giggle draws his attention back to your face. Tying off the bandages, Rex mourns the loss of your hands when you draw away.

“All done.” You grin, and Rex melts. “I’ll grab you water and something to eat. We can talk after. Figure out a plan.”

We, as if it’s completely natural for you to help him, a stranger.

You bring him water first, and then go back to the small cooking unit, digging around for a pan to cook with while also grabbing ingredients. You shouldn’t do this for him, and yet you are. Rex’s military training tells him to be on guard, to be weary of you even if you’re showing him kindness. But that doesn’t sit right with him. Questioning your motivations taste wrong on his tongue, like he’s the bad person in this situation.

Watching you there next to the cooking unit, tending to him, it draws forth those memories again. Everything about this is too…domestic. Him reclining in bed as someone takes care of him for once is such a foreign thing. Odd. Almost forbidden.

He drifts, allows his mind to daydream of what a life like this could be like. With him, at rest for once, and someone close to him, wanting to do things for him just because they desire to do so.

But Rex doesn’t just think of someone. He thinks of you, and he sinks further and further into the daydream until the Republic, the war, and everything else in his life is a distant point in the galaxy.

But Rex needs to find General Skywalker. And you are a distraction. Healing is important but contacting Skywalker is even more urgent.

The meal you bring him is hot and so kriffing fresh that Rex nearly moans with pleasure. He could get used to this.

“Is it too intrusive to ask why you were running?” you ask, clasped hands resting in your lap. You’re sitting in the same spot on the edge of the bed, not opting to grab a chair or to sit anywhere else.

“I was poking around where I shouldn’t. Got caught.” Rex takes another bite and it’s better than the last.

“Are you alone? Or is there someone I can try to contact for you?” You shrug. “Don’t think it’s a good idea to turn you loose in the streets.”

“No,” laughs Rex. “Bad idea.” Your slightly embarrassed smile pleases him. While Rex ponders that, he also realizes he doesn’t know your name. “Here I am eating your food and sleeping in your bed. And I didn’t ask you your name.”

You give it without question and ask him the same. Rex considers whether or not he should tell you his real name or the fake one General Skywalker gave him for the job.

“It’s Rex,” he finally answers.

“Rex,” you say, as if rolling it around on your tongue, considering it and him, almost testing it out. Rex likes the way you say it. There is a soft sigh in the way you breathe his name. “Rex.”

“Just Rex.”

“Okay, Just Rex.”

He nearly chokes with laugher on the next bite of food. Once he clears his throat, Rex decides to be as honest as he can. “I’m traveling with someone. I need to find them.”

“I’ll go,” you say. “You shouldn’t leave.” Even though you’re staring at him, you still reach out and place a hand on his knee. You don’t break eye contact, and the earnestness is startling.

Rex gives you General Skywalker’s fake name and where you might find him. “It might be dangerous,” he says, trying to iterate the severity of the situation.

You squeeze his knee with a smile and stand, going to the closet to dig around. When you turn around, you hold up a large blaster. “I can handle myself.”

Using the strap, you secure it over your chest, the blaster hanging to the side. “I’ll be back. Don’t open the door for anyone.” You give him a little salute and Rex watches you leave through the front door.

The healing agent in the bacta spray and the need for rest creeps up. When the food is gone, Rex places the bowl to the side, slipping back into the daydream.

“Sleeping, Rex?”

Rex nearly launches himself off the bed. “General Skywalker,” he breathes, relief flooding his chest.

In the small doorway, you stand quietly, hands clasped tightly in front of your chest. You found him and even brought Skywalker with you.

He stops next to the side of the bed. “Glad you’re okay.”

Rex shrugs. “You would have come for me eventually.”

General Skywalker grins and nods his head. “That I would, Rex. I don’t like leaving my men behind. Especially you.” He glances at you standing in the doorway, and then turns back to Rex, one eyebrow arching in question. Rex nods, acknowledging Skywalker’s silent ask.

He exhales and approaches you. “Thank you. For taking care of my friend.” General Skywalker’s inclines his head in your direction.

“Of course. It’s nothing. Really.”

Skywalker holds out his hand and Rex clasps it. He drags Rex up to a seated position. “How’s the leg?”

“It’ll heal,” answers Rex. It’s already feeling better with the bacta spray on it.

“Can you walk?”

Rex stands. Wobbles. Remains upright. “I can manage, General.”

Skywalker glances at Rex’s torn pants. “We need to fix that.” He starts to remove his outer cloak and Rex shakes his head. “Don’t question it, Rex.”

Rex reluctantly grabs the cloak from General Skywalker and wraps it around himself, hiding the blaster burn. You step out of the way of the door to allow them exit. Rex’s glances at you and your lips turn upward.

At the door, Rex pauses, wanting to stay just a few minutes longer. “Thank you,” he says softly.

“Just avoid blaster bolts. If you can. For me.”

The back of Rex’s neck heats up and he exits the small house with a nod of his head. When the door whooshes shut, General Skywalker’s muted grin turns devilish.

“What?” asks Rex, flustered.

“You like her,” says Skywalker.

“I—I don’t.” Rex straightens his shoulders. “Why do you think that?”

General Skywalker taps the side of his head with one finger. “Jedi.”

“Sir. That explains nothing.”

“The feeling is mutual, Rex,” calls Skywalker over his shoulder as he starts walking down the street.

Rex nearly trips. “What’s mutual?” he asks, already knowing what his general means but not wanting to admit it to himself. General Skywalker gestures in the direction of your home. “No,” blurts Rex. “That’s not true.”

General Skywalker’s knowing grin is enough to silence him.

“You’ll see her again, Rex. I have a good feeling about it.”

“You’re doing a good thing, Rex. Even if you can’t always see it.” Your fingers slide over his jaw to gently cup his cheek. Rex leans into the touch, sighing heavily. “Saving one is an accomplishment, and you have rescued so many.”

After the Republic fell, and Rex and Ahsoka parted ways, he came to find you, only to bring you along with him on his journey to save his brothers’. You’re not on the frontlines, standing by his side in Imperial complexes, executing daring rescues. Rex wouldn’t allow that of you even if you insisted. You’re good with a blaster but you’re no soldier and losing you might shatter him.

Instead, you stay on Coruscant, awaiting each of his returns, ready to take care of, and look after, any clones Rex brings back with him. You never complain. Never waiver. You are his rock, a home for him to find a bit of peace from the unending injustices of the galaxy.

With your hand upon his cheek, you lean into him, resting your forehead against the side of his temple. “You’re a good man, Rex. I know that you know that.”

Rex’s fingers intertwine with yours. Bringing your hand up to his face, he gently kisses every knuckle and each finger. Sighing, you press lightly on his cheek, guiding Rex’s face in your direction. There is no brief pause or wanton hesitation. Rex knows where he stands with you, and his lips meet with your own in perfect satisfaction.

The future he dreamed of is here, with you, while rescuing his brothers.

The Empire is vast. It is powerful. But he is not alone. And that, the shared experience of companionship, is a hope in the face of a looming darkness.

taglist:

@padawancat97 @foxxy-126 @glassgulls @km-ffluv @sweetbutpsychobutsweet @singleteapot @garfunklevibes2012 @tiredmetalenthusiast @childofyuggoth @coffeecaketornado @kayden666 @cherryofdeath @enfppixie @ninman82 @beebeechaos @no-oneelsebutnsu

[kaicubus]

I saw your requests were open, and if they still are, could I request a fluff alphabet with the Hantengu clones? I really love your work btw, keep it up!

Fluff Alphabet | Hantengu clones

warnings ✩° : fluff, dating a somewhat nice demon, mentions of killing other people, me cursing, besides that, cute things!

pairing ✩° : hantengu clones x fem!reader some gn!reader

authors note ✩° : YEAH BABYYYYY thank you for your request succubabe!! this was actually lowkey hard to write bc theyre supposed to be meanies but i thought id do it anyways,,

A = Affection (how they show their love for you)

Sekido is silent in the way he loves, so he's all about acts of service! He'll do things for you without you asking him too, mostly because he likes order and hates anything that goes out of line. So if he can help it, he's doing it for you.

Karaku is big on words of affirmation. He loves telling you how much you mean to him, how beautiful you are etc. Your insecurity is his biggest rival, so he's always telling you sweet things to fight it.

Aizetsu really won't admit it, but he loves physical touch. Whether it's holding your hand when you go places or touching your foot with his under the table, if he can touch you, he's happy. With other people he HATES it, but with you, it's ok.

Urogi adores quality time. It doesn't even matter what you two are doing, if he's with you, he wouldn't be anywhere else in the world. He does, however, prefer flights with either you on his back or in his arms.

B = Beauty (what they like most about you)

It's hard to say what Sekido loves most about you because he's never going to openly admit it, but he actually really likes your collarbone. It’s very specific but if you’re wearing a shirt or dress that lays just below your collarbone, he’s going to be looking at it for the entire time it’s exposed.

With Karaku, it'd be difficult to find just one thing he loves about you. To choose one though, he'd pick any beauty mark you have on your face. Whether it’s a birth mark, scar, freckles, moles, anything, he thinks it makes you so unique and special and loves kissing it especially after he kisses your lips first.

Aizetsu really admires the back of your neck. He thinks that it’s so elegant when you brush your hair and move your hair to the side or when you tie your hair up and he can see a little bit of your neck. As soon as he sees it, he’s practically entranced by anything you do after.

Urogi cannot get enough of your stomach. He swears by the fact that the stomach is the softest part of any human, so when he has you within reach, he always has an arm around it or a claw. Your size doesn’t matter to him, if you have a bit of your stomach exposed or lift your shirt up enough for him to see the smallest sliver of ski, he smashes his head into you.

C = Comfort (what they find most comforting about you)

What Sekido likes most about you is how responsible you are. It really takes loads off his shoulders when he knows he can trust you with his entire self, and he doesn't have to drag you by a leash or something.

Karaku finds everything about you comforting: the way you look, the way you feel, the way you taste, what's inside of you, pretty much everything. But for the most part, he loves how you go to him when you're stressed. It makes him feel like he's worth something and doing something right.

Your ability to calm Aizetsu down is something he never takes for granted. When he's crying or really upset, you don't judge him, instead you always lay his head on your lap and pat him lightly, humming a song or talking softly to him. That kindness either prompts more tears or gets him to close his eyes and get some rest.

Urogi really likes how caring you are to tend to his needs. After a good flight, he's always very dirty and has leaves all over him, so you always take it upon yourself to brush his wings out and braid his hair. As soon as you touch either, his head falls forward and he passes out.

D = Domestic (how would they be in a domestic life with you) (i'm doing a non-demon au like in the actual manga for this one!)

Sekido's a wealthy businessman in charge working to support you and your family at home. At work he's very stressed and yells at everybody to get in line a lot, but at home he's your clueless husband struggling on the correct way to hold your newborn child. He's also the chef of the house and does most of the house work because, "you can't do it right," but really he wants to do it so you don't have to.

Karaku loves cooking with you. It's probably his favorite activity when he gets to make stews or curry simply because he loves seeing your face when you're able to try his cooking. He has a notepad for your favorite recipes and makes them for you when you don't have a good day to lift your spirits. Because of his culinary skills, your baby has grown quite picky and even turns their head when their mushed baby carrots don't have proper seasoning.

Aizetsu spends most of his time with you and your baby, and sometimes he puts in way more than he should. You have to remind him that your baby needs a nap and Aizetsu will hold onto them harder and refuse until you pry them away from him. After your baby's down for a nap, Aizetsu won't leave their side until they wake up. Often times you find the two fast asleep and you have to put a blanket over them so they don't catch a code.

Being already well off in terms on money, you and Urogi spend your domestic life traveling overseas, flying everywhere by plane or by cruise. Sight seeings are a musts, but sometimes you can't keep up with his high spirited self, seeing as he's always dragging you along. He also likes posing your baby in silly looking positions (usually with hats or sunglasses way too big for their face) and posting pictures to social media to your family and friends.

E = Early Mornings (bed head? tired? fully awake?)

ROUGH. When Sekido sleeps, he's tossing and turning left and right, so it's only reasonable why his hair is so fucked up in the morning. He gets mad trying to brush it out and breaks the handle before you even have a chance to go at it. But he likes when you brush his hair afterwards.

Karaku is like so angelicwhen he sleeps. Pretty boy privileges. He always has his arm around you since he sleeps with you on his chest, but for some reason you're not tangled up at all. He's also the most calm so he isn't an aggressive sleeper and he wakes up rather restfully and gently.

Aizetsu is the softest when it comes to waking up. He's so depressed in the mornings though because, "It's just another meaningless day to waste time doing nothing," and always offers to sleep in. You protest, but he always wins in the end and you two sleep for an extra 4 hours. After looking at the clock you're always so shocked that you slept in so late and throw a pillow in his face.

Before you can even wake up, Urogi is already wide awake and on top of you. He'd be like a cat sitting on your chest putting their whole weight on you. His eyes are always fully open just waiting for you to wake up. It's honestly kind of creepy.

F = Fights (how often do you guys fight?)

Sekido is the type of guy to fight with often...he gets so mad over the smallest things, doesn't listen, doesn't communicate, just gets really mad. On some occasions, he'll silently apologize and hit his head onto your shoulder as his way of saying 'I'm sorry.'

Rarely ever with Karaku, he's always looking for ways to please you, so if you try and start a fight with him, he shuts it down immediately.

Aizetsu would never fight with you, he'd only ever present himself as insecure if you're with other guys and sort of mask his worry with straight up self defeating thoughts. He'll suggest that you're cheating on him and it takes a while for you to deny it and him to accept it.

Urogi has no thoughts. Fighting isn't a huge deal because within seconds, he'll forget and go back to being blissfully happy. Yay!

G = Gratitude (how grateful are they for you)

On a scale on 1-10 of how much Sekido's grateful for you, he's at about a 5. He has things other than you he needs to focus on, but he likes having you around.

Karaku is extremely grateful you came into his life when you did. He's taken such a liking to you, he can't imagine what it'd be like without you. It was weird having a human by a demon's side but he got used to it really quickly.

Although things don't change much on the surface level for Aizetsu when you two are together, deep down there are wounds that begin to heal once he sees how much you care for him.

You've taught Urogi different, interesting ways of living life, of course he's going to be grateful for you. He's even more happy with you by his side, so he's constantly showing you affection and telling you how much he loves you.

H = Hugs (are they a hugger?)

NO. Sekido is NOT a hugger. If you try and hug him he'll storm off, but he'll do with a peck on the cheek or even a kiss. He much rather prefers giving you a pat on the head or slap on your ass. All in good fun of course.

100% yes. Karaku loves hugs, but not the excited kind or the side hug kind. He likes the type of hug where he's able to scoop you in his arms and stay there for a minimum of at least 5 minutes, gently holding you and bringing you up to his body where his face can rest comfortably in your shoulder.

Aizetsu's not that fond of hugging, but he thinks it's acceptable if you're the one giving them out. He's not a hugger, but he likes the way you smell when you hug him.

Urogi is the type of person to run up to you and wrapping his arms and legs around your body at full speed, having full trust that you'll support his weight. He'd literally kill for hugs with you.

I = Inspiration (does being with you change them?)

Being with you changes Sekido in the best way it can. Obviously, he's a rage demon, constantly consumed with anger and hatred, but in some cases you are better for him than he leads you to believe. There are times where you're able to calm him down, and times where you can't.

I would say when he's with you, Karaku is inspired to be better. He wants to be more than enough for you, so he'll change to work on things that allow him to do that.

Sadly, not really. With Aizetsu, it's hard getting out of his constant depressive state, so he's always going to feel the feelings he has towards life and living in general. You make his days brighter, but he's still morbidly depressed.

Urogi learns to see things in new lights and take on different challenges when he's with you. He's much much more upbeat, if that's even possible, and laughs way more because he has someone he enjoys being around.

J = Jealousy (how jealous they get)

10/10. If Sekido sees you with someone else, he gets engulfed with rage. Not only does he actively harm the person, killing them in multiple instances, but he also ignores you afterwards. How dare you talk to someone else?

3/10. Karaku is eerily calm when it comes to these sorts of things, but it's not because he trusts the other person, but rather he trusts you won't be stupid enough to cheat on him.

9/10. If Aizetsu sees you with another person, he assumes the worst. He'll get so overwhelmed with self hate and doubt that he'll start crying from afar and fall over. It gets you to stop talking to the person to check on him, so I guess a win is a win. But he's very broken after that.

4/10. Urogi doesn't get jealous as much as he gets protective. He's not smart enough to pick up on social cues to tell if the person is flirting, but he knows that anyone is a threat to either your life or love, so he always has a protective wing against you.

K = Kisses (where and how many?)

Sekido doesn't do PDA, but his pent up rage is helped by kissing you in private. He likes giving you kisses on your neck and forehead as a symbol of his power over you, but also because they're sweet spots he likes the most.

Karaku's kisses are plentiful, seemingly never ending, and mostly on your lips. They're the softest part of your face, and the sweetest, so he's always kissing you.

Aizetsu kisses you mostly on your shoulder and back, especially when you don't have a shirt on, he snuggles up behind you and just pecks all over your skin. He's very light with it too.

Urogi full on attacks you with kisses. You don't even know when it's going to happen because even he doesn't know that. He just suddenly stops everything and rushes at you, usually holding your face in one place with his claws and just kissing you all over.

L = Little Things (what are some little things they do?)

Sekido pinches your cheek when he gets mad at you. He's quick to anger, but he tries to avoid yelling at you all he can. So when he gets mad at something you did, instead of yelling, he pulls on your cheek and plays with your face to both calm himself and not lose his sanity with you while you laugh at the tickling feeling.

Karaku loves finding new ways to get you to tell him, "I love you." Whether that's through teasing you or asking you repeatedly, he gets needy when you don't tell him you love him and starts poking around to get you to say it.

Aizetsu's picked up on the habit of humming songs when he's upset. It's a good indicator of when he's stressed out or sad, but he also just does it a lot and he's gotten really good at it. He'll stare off into space or something while holding you and start humming, combing through your hair or rubbing your cheek.

Urogi will bring you things. They're mostly little gifts he's found on his adventures that he picks up because they remind him of you. He'll find colorful stones, metal knickknacks left behind from other humans, and sometimes strings of beads.

M = Marriage proposal (how it would go about) (in a more modern au maybe)

Sekido would not be formal at all. What would happen would be him springing the question upon you one day, maybe at a restaurant or walking back home from one, and in the middle of his conversation will ask you, "Do you want to get married?" With a completely straight, serious face. Inside, he's fighting demons, looking at your confused and flustered face.

Karaku would definitely pull some elaborate event, maybe reliving the first time you two met or went on your first date and talking to everyone around to make sure they stay and bear witness to what's about to go down. He doesn't want to make it too flashy, but there's a calmly lit place, with flowers and all.

Poor Aizetsu would overthink everything about it. He'll have doubts he's not worthy enough to propose to you, or that the ring is too small, or how weird it's going to be having people stare at him. In the end, he pulls through and is very soft spoken, so he has to repeat himself a little louder the second time.

Urogi would practically say it with his face. You already have a feeling he's going to propose but it's even more obvious when he can't stop looking at you or smiling, giving cheesy hints at the possibility of him pulling out a ring from his pocket. When he's about to ask, you're pretty worked up from all the waiting and answer before he can get the whole question out.

N = No (something they don't like about you)

He's a strict guy, Sekido, but surprisingly, there's nothing he truly hates about you. He says you have a few annoying habits that really piss him off, but when he tells you, he makes it sound like he likes them? ex. "You have this stupid way of talking where you don't shut up, where you get really happy to see me and it seriously makes me mad. So stop looking so cute when you do that."

The only thing Karaku would not like about you is if you ever yell at him or criticize him for not taking things seriously. Since it's you, he'll cut you some slack, but he does take full offense.

Aizetsu really doesn't like how much you spend away from him. Every minute away from him plants a new doubtful thought in his head that says to him, "They don't want to be around you," and cries about it every time it happens.

Urogi is really big on smells. When you switch your perfume or come back to see him smelling like a different person or not like yourself just in general, he can't be around you. He'll cover his nose and bump into walls just to avoid you if you smell like any sort of fancy scent.

O = Open (how open are they to you?)

Sekido's a really hard case to crack. He won't tell you if anything's bothering him, emotionally wise, because he hates being vulnerable. He'll do anything to avoid those feelings and therefore avoid telling you about them. When he sees you upset about how he's not open with you, he silently gives you reassurance that he's fine and tells you not to worry.

Karaku doesn't particularly have anything to share most of the time. He deals with that stuff by himself by either ignoring it or accepting it and seeing things on the bright side, so if there were a chance for him to be open, he would've already figured it out on his own already.

Aizetsu is almost too open. Not in the sense that he trauma dumps on you all the time, but he just cries a lot over anything so he's forced to be open with you about how he's feeling. He thinks you're a great listener though and trusts you enough to tell you when he's suffering in silence. (be like aizetsu and don't suffer in silence!!)

It's almost scary how Urogi opens his mouth and says his unhinged thoughts. It doesn't matter if they're sad (they're usually not) or honest, he just says what comes to his mind. You usually have to do a double take to see if you heard him right.

P = Patience (how patient do you have to be with them?)

The highest level of patience. Unless you can deal with someone bossing you around, bullying you relentlessly, and yelling at every minor issue. Seriously, Sekido is the hardest person to deal with because of his anger issues, and literally being the rage demon, so don't expect him to go soft without a fight.

With Karaku, you really don't have to be patient at all. One small word from you and he's on his knees doing all the work or anything you ask. He's so whipped for you.

Aizetsu is kind of stubborn, but not in a stubborn way. He's not easily persuaded to do things since his outlook on life is very...in the negatives. With his depressive episodes as well, he requires a lot of check ups and reassuring.

Usually, whatever you say to Urogi goes. There's no fights or stubbornness, he's almost 'trainable.' On off days where he doesn't want to listen, he'll fly away and you have to wait for him to come back, but that's about it.

Q = Quitting (are they susceptible to calling it quits?)

No. Sekido may be a hot head with a short fuse, but he's not going to get rid of you that easily. Maybe here and there, he'll get so mad you two break up for a bit, but it's very on and off with those little baby break ups. If you slip away from him, he'll secretly put in a lot of effort to get you back.

Karaku is always calm and looking to make you happy or content with being with him. He definitely does not want you leaving him, so his possibilities are super low.

Fat chance. Once Aizetsu trusts you, he's LATCHED onto you. He'll say that he doesn't care what might happen in the future, but in reality he cries every time he thinks you might leave him.

Urogi didn't even know what the term 'dating' or 'relationship' meant before you, so he's not going to know what 'breaking up' or an 'ex' means. The thought of losing you does put him on edge though.

R = Romance (how they act around you)

Not at all. Sekido actually hates anything romantic, hearts, flowers, candles, all of it. He thinks it's cheesy and a waste of time. But...if you like it...then he guesses that maybe he'd give it a try...maybe.

Karaku knows his way around romance, he practically is romance, he loves love. Loving you is his favorite hobby, so of course he's going to be romantic and sweet!

Aizetsu treats you like a stranger sometimes, moving around you so you don't see him (you always do) because he's too scared to show affection. His idea of romance is sitting next to you and holding your hand.

Urogi really doesn't know what romance is. When he found you, he just decided in his mind that he liked you and that was that. He's really happy though!

S = Smitten (how in love they are with you?)

There's no telling what's on Sekido's mind. He'll never tell you how he truly truly feels because he gets mad at himself for feeling any ounce of compassion. He thinks being in love makes him weak, so he tries not to show how much he actually loves you.

It's written on Karaku's face pretty much. Every time Karaku looks at you, he either has a serene looking face or just heart eyes, no in between.

Aizetsu is so attached and in love with you, he thinks he deserves pity because of how much he feels. In his heart, it's very grey in terms of in black and white, one moment he'll be completely smitten and another he'll doubt himself and your relationship.

SUPER SMITTEN. Urogi can't get enough of you. He's so in love with you and you make his heart feel the warmest it's ever been.

T = Thrill (how is it being with them)

Understandably so, being with any of these demons is a thrill on it's own.

Sekido is thrilling because of how angry he gets and in the sense that he's full of power and dominance. He'll protect you any chance he gets but he's also partially shy when it comes to stuff like that.

Karaku isn't much to take in and being with him is actually pretty calm except when he's in battle, which is when you can see a side to him that you haven't seen before.

Aizetsu there's really no domestic thrill and he's actually fairly tame for the most part.

Urogi is the most thrilling. Not only does he have the most exciting personality but he also has a set of wings that can fly you to places you've never seen before. He can quite literally lift you up when you're sad and take you to new heights.

U = Understanding (are they understanding or stubborn?)

Sekido is stubborn as hell. Even if you explain it to him over and over again he's going to deny it or tell you he's right, which for the most part he's not. It just angers him more that you don't take his side and try to understand him.

Karaku understands things without you even telling him. He's so good at reading social cues so if you get mad he apologizes right away, and even if he's the one who's mad at you, he'll still make an effort.

Aizetsu is painfully clueless at times. If it's something important, he'll get it right away, but if it's not he's dumbfounded.

Zero thoughts. Urogi doesn't understand shit. That doesn't mean he means anything by it, he just literally doesn't understand.

V = Valentine (how they'd act on the holiday)

Sekido will say something like, "Oh, is that holiday still around? Don't care." and then present you with the biggest present ever. He's been around so he has collections of gems and crystals that he'll give and just leave next to you when you wake up that day too.

Karaku is doing everything in his power to honor this day. He'll break out the flowers, the food, the romantic candle light. Everything. He's honestly very sweet just in general, but on this day he's calmer than usual and just takes it slow.

Aizetsu waits till the very end of the day to hand you a card, nervous that you'll hate it or laugh at him, but watches you throughout the whole day wondering what you'll do.

Urogi forgets. Of course. But! If you remind him he laughs about it and quickly grabs whatever he can find and presents it to you, holding it out as if he didn't just grab a vase from the table saying, "Happy Valentine's Day!"

W = Water (do they like swimming?)

Sekido can't go out and have a fun beach day with you, so it's always at night. But he never goes in because it's such a hassle going in and then going out and getting dry, he just hates it. But he'll watch you.

Ooh Karaku is jumping IN if he sees water. He finds it so refreshing and relaxing to swim, especially after the fun he'll let you lay on his chest against his arm and enjoy the sounds of the river.

Aizetsu covers his body up, (adidas track suit wearing ahh), so he's a bit shy when he has to undress. However if you beg him enough and pull him in, he'll wade in the water with you. He doesn't hate it.

Urogi plus water is like watching a bird in a bird bath. He LOVES water. Not only is it a free bath, but it's also fun splashing around with you or pushing you under, which for some reason he finds hilarious.

X = Xtra (extra headcanon)

If you beg him hard enough, Sekido will do this thing called 'light show' where he uses his staff to manipulate lightning to shoot up in different directions. When he's not using it to kill people, it's really pretty, but it's also loud as hell so he makes you wear earplugs or sit far away from him when he does it.

Karaku loves nature. His weapon is a maple leaf, after all. So he loves going out on night walks with you, even if they’re super short or long, there’s something about the cold air and nice scenery is so calm to him. And you’re there too so it makes it like, 99% better.

Aizetsu has really nice handwriting. He writes poems and haikus (either about you or about death) all the time, but he never fails to amaze you with his ink work and the way his brush strokes are so effortlessly perfect.

Urogi will listen to all the stories you have to tell. Especially if they’re from your life around humans, his eyes practically morph into stars and he crosses his legs like a kid getting ready for story time waiting for you to tell your story. He cares so much about you and your life and hearing all those experiences just fills his head with happiness.

Y = Yearning (what they're like when you're not around)

Sekido wouldn't be caught dead missing you...unless? He's not keen on showing any ounce of vulnerability, but when he does miss you he keeps himself busy so he doesn't have to think about it. He'll yell at inanimate objects to express his anger of how much he wants you back and actually breaks a few things though.

Karaku doesn't leave your side. He's honestly just with you everywhere you go. If somehow you get him off you and leave him alone, he gets really bored and kind of upset. Once you get back though, he complains about missing you as he's peppering your face with kisses.

When Aizetsu misses you, he'll sulk around more than usual...if that's even possible. He'll drag his feet and attempt to brush himself off, but he doesn't go far and just ends up crying his eyes out.

Urogi without you around is similar to that of a puppy waiting of his owner to return. He's waiting, sitting down, impatiently if you go out to get food for yourself or leave to go on a walk in the sun, but he's honestly just thinking about what he's going to do with you once you get back.

Z = Zeal (will they go to the ends of the earth for you?)

Yes. Sekido would clear out villages for you. If anything bad were to happen to the one person he truly loves, he's going to give them all hell.

Karaku would kill for you. That goes without saying. For you, he'd do anything. If he can't be with you, what's the point of his life?

Aizetsu would be scared and try to back out, but in the end he'll fight for you. It doesn't matter if he wants to cry or disappear, he loves you too much to lose you.

Urogi would rip apart the world to find you if you get lost. He's not leaving without the person he loves.

[canonmisogynyvictimstournament]

PROPAGANDA

PADMÉ AMIDALA (STAR WARS) (CW: Pregnancy)

1.) From the beginning, she only existed to be Anakin's love interest and Luke and Leia's mother. Although she's an important political figure in all three prequels, her characterization in being Anakin's crush/maternal figure in Phantom Menace, Anakin's love interest in Attack of the Clones, and Anakin's wife and baby mama in Revenge of the Sith. She literally dies of a broken heart when Anakin turns to the dark side in RotS, right after giving birth to the twins, because her whole purpose in that movie was to motivate Anakin's fall and be the twins' incubator. What's more, she didn't even know she was carrying twins until after Luke was born because George Lucas apparently gave no thought to what prenatal care would have been like in a universe with futuristic technology despite the whole main plot revolving around Anakin thinking Padme was going to die in childbirth. There was also a subplot cut from RotS where Padme helped found the rebellion with Bail and Mon and then goes to Mustafar to kill Anakin after he falls, but it was apparently deemed not important enough to keep.

2.) Her characterization was drastically forgotten about in the prequel films in favor of her husband's (despite her being one of three main characters in the prequel franchise). She went from queen of an entire planet to a senator of a galaxy-wide political body to dying of a broken heart. She does not question the actions of those close to her despite them contradicting her character morals (which her character was built on!!). Plus, she is rarely mentioned outside of the animated series. The show, Kenobi, doesn't even mention her name, only that she was essentially kind and brave. Also, she was not approached for a cameo in any of the largest related media while the men have.

3.) oh boy. she basically dies because apparently George Lucas doesn’t realize that women’s healthcare exists??? like you could argue that she wouldn’t have died if she just had an OBGYN. in 2/3 of the movies she’s basically just used as a tool for the main male character’s development. then there’s this whole plotline in The Clone Wars (aka TCW) series where there’s all this gross stuff with her ex who literally tries to kiss her when she’s actively saying no, then her husband proceeds to lowkey victim blame her??? it’s just so unnecessary. I could go on

BUMBLE (WARRIOR CATS) (CW: Domestic Abuse)

1.) Back with another Warriors submission, I bet you’ll be getting a lot from other people too LMAO. Bumble is a kittypet (housecat) who befriends the male protagonist Gray Wing’s girlfriend, Turtle Tail, and lets her stay in her house. This gets Gray Wing all pissy because he’s controlling of Turtle Tail and shares most of the wild/clan cat’s proclivity for looking down upon kittypets. Turtle Tail gets pregnant by another kittypet, Tom, who tries to control her by hiding the fact that humans take away kittens after they’re born. Eventually Bumble comes clean about it so Turtle Tail returns to the forest. Some time later, Bumble is found in the forest seeking refuge because Tom has been physically abusing her, scratching her where the humans can’t see. So, she’s CANONICALLY ACKNOWLEDGED as a domestic abuse victim (unlike Squirrelflight who meets all the textbook signs but the narrative and authors deny it). How do you think our good guy protagonists, i.e. Gray Wing “The Wise” and Turtle Tail, respond to an abuse victim seeking refuge? They tell Bumble to go home, thinking to themselves that she’s fat and soft and therefore would be useless in their group. Bumble stands up for herself and asks to speak with the leaders of the group. One of them asks if Bumble could just get along with Tom better (bro???) and when Bumble says it’s not within her control, the leader suggests being nicer to the humans instead. Another rival leader butts in and verbally abuses Bumble again by ripping into how fat and lazy and useless she would be. Despite Turtle Tail having been friends with Bumble and Bumble had helped her through her own hard times, to Gray Wing’s approval Turtle Tail chooses not to intervene as Bumble is forcibly escorted back to her abuser. But that’s not all. Later Bumble is found in the forest maimed and dying, and it seems likely that Gray Wing’s brother Clear Sky, a male with a long history of violence, is the culprit. Rather than mourn the dying innocent cat, Gray Wing’s primary concern is how other cats might be mean to Clear Sky if they think he’s a murderer, and reassures himself that refusing to help Bumble in her time of need was still the right decision.

2.) I have no idea how she managed to be written so horrifically from an abuse victim and woman (/she-cat I guess) standpoint but here we are. Okay so my memory is a bit fuzzy but basically Bumble was a character in Dawn of the Clans and a close friend to Turtle Tail, a major character, as well as a character who lived close to Tom, an abusive dickhead of a cat. Bumble was largely depicted as just a really sweet cat. Turtle Tail was very briefly the mate of Turtle Tail, but once she got pregnant, he became super violent towards both her and our gal Bumble. Tom actively hid the fact that, once her kits were old enough, Turtle Tail’s kits would probably be taken from her, and made Bumble keep quiet about this too, but Bumble eventually told Turtle Tail the truth, Turtle Tail left and Tom became extremely violent towards Bumble because of this, and was extremely abusive towards her. Eventually, Bumble ran away from him to where Turtle Tail and co were and begged to stay, since the wilderness as a whole was genuinely more safe than being around Tom was. Naturally, this meant kitty xenophobia from cats who had only arrived in that area recently, because everybody was insistent than, since she was a kittypet/house cat, things wouldn’t work out, and even her friend Turtle Tail denied her on this, insisted she was too soft to live in the wild and only sent her towards a cat Bumble wanted to convince because she was absolutely certain she’d be denied. Also our good old protagonist Gray Wing got to spend this scene being all upset about this soft cat wanting to join them to escape an abuser and was all bitter about the fact that Turtle Tail lived with her for a short period of time, and he also got to have a sweet romantic moment with Turtle Tail after denying an abuse victim an escape from her abuser. Also as much as I like Tall Shadow usually she sucked ass in the following scene because she was essentially telling Bumble to go find a way to make peace with Tom as if she was not the one being abused (Bumble pointed out that Tom was the one who would need to make peace for it to happen, not her) and that she should just make life better by going back to being a housecat and being spoiled despite the fact that she was actively at risk with her owners because of Tom. Then she leaves after being threatened by several cats there and is called soft on the way out. The next time she appears she is literally dying, and her death is just a plot device to create a stupid little mystery which is solved in a very stupid way. Also her abuser does continue to be a shithead and for some reason is fully permitted to kidnap his own children but he also gets a heroic death and the only reason I will not rant more about him is because this is too long already. Long story short Bumble deserves the world and everybody who decided not to let her escape her abuser just because they thought she was soft sucks

3.) Is nice to the group of starving, feral wild cats that left the mountains so their friends and family could have more food to eat and befriends one of them to the point of opening her home to her after she leaves the group because the guy she likes is too dumb to notice she likes him and keeps falling for his brother’s love interests.

Unfortunately, because Bumble is a house cat who lives in a house with people and not a Wild and Free cat, this is a grave and horrible crime (luring a wild cat into the safety and comforts of domesticity) and is villainized for the rest of the arc, including for things wildly out of her control

I.E.

Her owners taking in an aggressive male cat that bullies and abuses the two female cats already living there

When Bumble’s friend leaves and goes back to the wild cats, Bumble leaves her home (as the abuse as has gotten worse) to see if she could either get help or have her friend return so the abuse isn’t as bad again)

Bumble eventually dies in the wild because the feral cats all hate her for ‘stealing’ their friend and tricking her into becoming a kittypet for awhile and refuse to help Bumble adjust to wild life or even teaching her how to hunt.

They are littl e to no hard feelings at her death beyond 'good riddance’ but the aggressive tomcat that chased her out of her home is later regarded with good feelings and regret at such a 'good, heroic cat’ passing when he dies despite him literally never doing a good or kind thing in his life and actually causing trouble for the wild cats right before dying

[weirdmageddon]

some thoughts on dave lalonde

so note this isn’t a kidswap au, just a strilonde guardian swap au; a plausible au wherein dave’s meteor(s) are set to land in upstate new york and rose’s in houston tx where they are discovered by mom lalonde and bro strider respectively. so it’s not even really an “alternative universe” so much as “alternative circumstance” because that’s literally all that changes

their interests aren’t swapped; their interests are a natural result of a mix of what they were always predisposed towards (we can look at their post-scratch versions for constants) combined with their living environment. rose strider is still gothy and writes, knits, and has an interest in the zoologically dubious. perhaps rose might handcraft some delirious puppets for her brother-slash-ectofather’s enterprise as a “gift” in one-upmanship. probably has good rapport with the crows that fly into her ironic knockoff disney-princess themed bedroom (see the post i linked above) and get them to fuck with bro passively in exchange for peanuts. she also keeps all the things the crows gift her, pickpocketed shiny things and whatnot

dave lalonde is still the knight of time, still makes sbahj, likes photography, still loves cooking up unbelievably ill jams, still into post-ironic expression, however he’s not irony-poisoned by bro so he’s more comfortable being genuine. his interest in dead things and paleontology comes more to a forefront because of mom’s predilection towards science and genuine encouragement from her. after all she’s made many a mutant kitten herself

i feel like since dave fell to earth with maplehoof, crushing the pony instantly on impact, instead of using its hide to make a bib like a fucking weirdo, mom would paradox clone maplehoof. so dave has a pet pony with a ribbon and little pink heart on it. a knight needs a loyal steed. and hes been attached to maplehoof since his literal first few minutes of existing. so maplehoof wouldnt be bought anywhere, it would originate from itself

i mean he’s seen with the pony at his side in the post-scratch universe so…..

would make sense if the pony mom gifted to rose in canon was more of an involved thing with dave in this circumstance

the only issue is maplehoof cant become his sprite, otherwise that would break the timeloop (they need to come unaltered to earth with dave on the meteor in the first place during the reckoning). also [S] Ride with dave and the scarf would absolutely be a thing at some point

i was thinking maybe instead of a crow, since they aren’t as “everywhere” in upstate new york as they are in that high rise in texas, dave has something more prehistoric put into a sprite. like a parave theropod. can you imagine parave davesprite. maybe an archaeopteryx or something

i guess mom would indulge in a living museum/zoo for “domesticated” ancient organisms all jurassic parked like a weird ongoing experiment but the ectobiology wouldnt be perfect especially because the dna wouldnt be able to be fully read from fossils and specimens. i feel like jurassic park should be dave lalonde’s sort of in-universe media reference the way con air was with john and putting the bunny back in the box. like his friends would just rip on him for living out jurassic park in an imperfect domestic way

and he accidentally kills it through some fetch modus shenanigans. dave still has the bladekind strife specibus but not because he does rooftop battles but because swords are unironically cool, and flings it out the window by accident and it strikes one of the parave theropods in the enclosed zoo below outside his window and dave feels kinda bad

when jade sees it as his server player shes like “oh nooooo :(“ and dave is like “oh god no dont put that in the seizure kernel while i take a piss in one of the many fancy bathrooms this household has”

[roseytoesy]

Vore trope list

Screw it I’ve been looking for a list of vore tropes and stuff and can’t seem to find any! so you know what I’m going to make my own.

(Almost all of these I imagine as safe or has the option to be safe.)

Feel free to use this as an ask game too!

Story tropes:

Knight in shining armor (protection vore)

A heroic meal (protection vore but eating the bad guy)

Dragons sacrifice (poor soul(s) offered to a monster)

A bet (stupid idea + pride leads to shenanigans)

Feral/ lost to instincts (pred looses control of themselves)

Oh no you don’t! (Pred keeping prey from doing something stupid)

Tummy time out (prey annoyed/upset pred too much and ended in tummy as punishment)

Extreme cuddling (just as it says. both wanna be cozy together and what better way than inside a tum?)

dentist (thorough cleaning but with its own risks of being eaten due to being within a mouth)

vore spa day (covered in delicious smelling oils and products and given a deep massage deep into a pred)

magic! (Potions or spells making this small and safe)

sci-fi (aliens and other biological/scientific shenanigans leading to vore)

willingly “sacrificed” to a god

food play (from noodles to cakes and icecream get creative and have fun!)

Saved from drowning (merfolk or lifeguard making sure someone gets the air they need inside where they will be safe)

fearful (I don’t like the sound of fearplay)

cat and mouse games (pred having fun while the prey may or may not, depending)

hide and eat (hide and seek but the seeker is very hungry~)

Any taur vore (from nagas to centaurs, to driders, to anything you can think of!)

multiple stomaches (a safe one/storage and one not so safe one maybe)

slimes (pred or prey they can be both!)

edible clones (best way to remove extras is to eat them!)

high vore (they either got high from the prey or the pred was high and got munchy)

dinner dates (ending with an amazing prey dessert to finish off a successful date)

inexperienced/first time (weather it’s pred or prey is so good)

shy (either pred or prey struggle to ask.)

casual (just walk up to friend and say I want in. Or can I have a snack for a bit. Shrug and relax for an hour or two)

kidnapping (best way to ensure transportation and that they won’t get away)

object vore (from a small key to a fricken box tv. The bulges are always a fun plus)

Come and get it~ (pred ate item/person prey needs so they have to go down to get it)

sick (pred needs something to settle their stomach, or prey wants to hide away from the world and their troubles.)

comfort (help ground a pred during a panic attack. Help hide prey from anxieties)

A different form of love (other species licking and gently swallowing their loved ones as signs of affection.)

healing vore (stomach juices heal things alive and break apart anything dead.)

tough soft guy. (Scary/intimidating with a soft spot for one special prey.)

multiple prey (weather the pred was gluttonous or overwhelmed both are good.)

super willing and unwilling (pred excited to nom someone and they are not ok with it. And a super willing prey where the pred is somewhat worried/freaked out)

VIP (very important prey, gets a nice backstage show ending in a belly.)

sleep eating (pred had a nice dream about eating a marshmallow. Where’s their pillow/prey??)

another world (maybe somewhere where this is normal)

betrayal (prey gets gobbled up by friend and feels betrayed that they were nothing more than a meal/snack to who they thought they could trust.)

always close (pred hugging belly close or always having a hand over their precious cargo)

experiments! (Scientists doing things inside just because they are curious!)

overprotective (either pred or prey but they are possessive of their friend they aren’t allowed to be eaten by/eat anyone else!)

teasing (being charismatic or using double meaning words to get a snack or message across~)

domestic (a happy couple/ roommates sharing some nomes after cleaning together or getting things settled from the days adventures.)

robot (safely store items and prey at optimal temperatures and in a safe environment until threat has passed, or scans are completed, etc)

mine! (Hoarding things where NOONE can get to without their permission)

strings/equipment included (keeping prey on something to help them get out, though it may or may not fail depending on the pred)

demons deal (you got what you want and what they want in return is a nice meal~)

drink addition (prey floating in a drink and going down to their own special pool)

hot and cold (hot belly’s for cold days and cool belly’s for hot days)

It was an accident! (Took a tumble right down someone’s throat?! Or they didn’t notice someone in their drink)

Other:

Same size

half size

g/t

micro

cat size

willing

unwilling

squirming

switch

pred

prey

reformation

goopy/ painless digestion

fatal/perminant

oral

belly mouth

tail

Vore to endosoma

Half/full tour clean

dream vore

energy sapping

bulging stomach

hammer space stomach/ pocket dimension belly

[duckwithablog]

Hello there!! Can i headcanons for Red son, Nezha, Sun Wukong and Macaque with their fem s/o who is acting like a house wife + she's good taking care or babysit children

Hello!! Hope you like this one!!

Red Son, Nezha, Wukong and Macaque x fem! housewife! reader

Red Son

I don't think he realizes what you're doing, at first. Like, he'd try to insist that you leave all the cleaning and cooking to the bull clones

They keep saying "You are the lover of the Prince of the Demon Bull King family, which makes you the Princess! Please, dear, leave the cleaning and such to the bots."

If you keep insisting though, he'll give in and let you what you want. He actually tries to help you out with some chores! You guys both wash the dishes and cook meals together :]

Firmly believes that she shouldn't just let you do all the hard work by yourself. You're his beloved! If you want to become their housewife, then he will become your househusband. That's how a relationship is supposed to work, right? Both parties have to do their own share of work!

So now you got a Malewife Red Son. Congrats!!

Sometimes he sees you babysit some kids and even babying some of the bull clones they made, and she has to calm himself down before their hair torches the ceiling

Red Son is sort of a romantic, and daydreams sometimes on what having a family with you is like... So seeing you be so gentle with children fuels those fantasies a whole lot

Be prepared for a marriage proposal in the near future!!

Nezha

Nezha is literally the God of Children. So if he ever sees you being so gentle with kids, he'll be so touched before joining you

Nezha never really thought about marriage or having kids of his own, so whenever he sees you act all motherly with children or acting like a housewife his face gets red

Accidentally referred to you as his wife once and got so embarrassed afterwards. Please don't bring it up he'll literally collapse /j

Has actually thought of doing those traditional chinese marriages with you if you guys ever do get married. He brings up the topic of marriage once to gouge out your reaction so he can see how you feel about it

Nezha starts to warm up to the concept of you being a housewife after a while, but that doesn't mean he'll leave all the work to you!

There's not much to do living with him anyway. He already cleans his own things and makes his own meals, so at best you only make food whenever he's tired and clean stuff he forgot to clean

Wukong

Oh, he loves it. He loves the fact that you act like his housewife so much, that bastard

He can't cook for shit, so you often make meals for him. He tries to help you out, but I think it's best if he just stays as a cooking assistant for now-

I don't think he eats anything other than peaches in his mountain, so make sure to give him a variety of food in his meals! He would be so grateful. He'd literally eat anything you make and say that it tastes better than the peaches of immortality

Wukong is also very messy. Please tell him to pick up after himself or else you're gonna be cleaning so much stuff

Believe it or not, your housewife actions actually influence him a bit! He gets you a bunch of ingredients from over the world, even mythical ones! Fully encourages your cooking and cleaning habits by gifting you things like that

The baby monkeys love you so much. So much that he told you he thinks they love you more than they love him

He doesn't mind, he agrees with them to be honest lmao

I don't think he cares much for starting a family/getting married, since you guys practically act married already! But if you want things to get official, then he'll gladly oblige

Macaque

Isn't used to people taking care of him. Whenever he wakes up to you cooking a meal just for him and cleaning up the dojo, he gets so touched that he doesn't know what to say

Mac really likes it when you act like a housewife. He loves the domestic vibes he gets when he sees you cook or clean early in the morning. Living a peaceful and loving life with you is like, his biggest dream

He wants to pay you back for all your hard work, somehow. Says a whole lot of 'thank you's and 'Aw, for me?'s, but internally he's racking his brain for any possible way to give you the same amount of love you give him

You tell him it isn't necessary, but he just really wants to show you how much he loves you! So he gives you little gifts, like an apron or some suggesting some food recipes you guys could make together

Isn't that big of a family guy, I think. He knows you babysit kids, but he stays out of the way most of the time because he thinks he might scare them. That all changes once the Hostess comes over and you guys immediately bond

It's only after hanging out with you and the hostess is that he realizes how much he'd love having a life of quiet with you. Just you and him, maybe some kids, living peacefully in a house somewhere. He brings it up to you someday, to see what you think about it, before agreeing on something

He's engaged now :]] Mac is doing mental fist pumps whenever he sees you with the ring on your finger

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

Hope this was good!! I actually like the way I characterized Red Son here. Nezha's was pretty short, but that's mostly because I don't know his character all that well. This was super fun to write!

[adricthemindnimon]

I hate that the Voyager writers were so inconsistent with Tom Paris, cuz at his best he really is wonderful. I'm rewatching Course: Oblivion, AKA the one where Tom and B'elanna get married then it turns out they're clones and they all die, and he is the sweetest man in the universe. Moments before the wedding Janeway says to him "Your bachelor days are over" and he replies "Not a moment too soon". She asks him "any second thoughts?" and he gives B'elanna the biggest heart eyes in the universe and responds "second, third fourth" and it's clear that all those thoughts are for her. Later, Harry teases him that he's only been married a day and he's "already domesticated (side note: yuk, Harry), and without pause Tom goes "jealous?" And his vows... "I don't know what I did to deserve you, but I'll try to keep doing it".

Tom is so utterly devoted to B'elanna. He's an idiot sometimes, and he fucks up majorly on occasion, and he doesn't always understand, but he loves this woman whole heartedly. He tried to play at being the big lothario, but even in the first episodes it was clear he wasn't actually much good at it. Some of the writers insist on trying to drag out the "secretly a shitty person" angle on Tom, and it's just boring - and it doesn't fit with this much more compelling version of him. He's a big softie who loves deeply and is whole heartedly loyal where he loves. That's true of his relationship with his mentor and Captain Janeway (he'd 10000% fist fight anyone who said a word against her), it's true of his relationship with his best friend Harry (remember The Chute where he held off hordes of pissed off prisoners?), and it's true of his relationship with his wife, B'elanna.

[fatuismooches]

Soft fragile reader + Dottore thoughts are the only thing that occupies my brain sometimes. Currently, I'm brainrotting over Dottore introducing you to dozens of modern things. We've talked about the Kamera but that's only one thing... mechanics! I don't know how much Teyvat has changed over literally hundreds of years but I assume it has to be a lot! And fragile reader would be disappointed they missed out on so many years worth of evolution from their coma... and also be very lost on how to navigate the world whenever they would be allowed to leave the lab. Like, everything is different. Your clothes from that era aren't fashionable anymore, reader (sorry ily.) Therefore the clones literally buy you a bunch of different things and you're just like... 😨 It's like a mini fashion show as these mass murderers are arguing over which color compliments you the best... (Zandik gives you a little spin and twirl as he compliments your style) Like... i know it sounds very simple but i like soft domestic Dottore + reader things 😔 Reader would definitely tailor their outfit similarly to their husband's to feel closer to him after so many years apart.

Ei was so happy by something like Dango Milk, I imagine fragile reader would be jumping for joy at the most simplest of things. You would overhear the Fatui soldiers/agents talking about things you've never ever heard about and then ask them for information, to which they obviously give you in the most respectful, monotone voice because of your husband's authority... but they're kind of confused by your practically sparkling expression. Every time you learn something new you immediately run to Zandik or a clone and start asking them for all the details! And I like to imagine you sitting on Zandik's lap as you try new delicious foods from the modern era... he really doesn't care much for food but how can he decline when you're feeding him a bite of everything? I bet reader would go bonkers if they found out that perhaps their favorite candy still exists, somehow even having new flavors! Or if their favorite book series survived, and then they'd be able to compare how writing styles and genres have changed... you rant to Zandik about them of course.

There are probably dozens of things that have changed over time, but I can't exactly think of any more that would be fluffy and cute right now. Will write more brainrot if I do 😭 Basically crazy mad scientist still making time for his darling fragile lover >> He grows to expect you sitting on his lap going on about a new thing you discovered existed now and then falling asleep frequently now.

[clone-anon-after-dark]

Clones with an Asexual / Acespec Partner Headcanons

I’ve never written headcanons on here before, but thought I’d give it a go.

Word Count: 2915

Warning and Author’s Note: Some discussion of sex.  Some asexuals have sex.  Also mention of sex-repulsion because some asexuals do not ever want to have sex and both are fine and good.  There are a lot of asexuals who are interested in partnership - romantic or not - so I thought I might write out some ideas about what that might look like with some clones

Included are Hunter, Tech, Echo, Wrecker, Crosshair, Mayday, Rex, Cody, Gregor, Wolffe, Fox, Kix, Hardcase, Fives, Jesse, Dogma, and Tup

Hunter

Hunter loves a partner who is passionate and wants to do the right thing.  He would never be with someone who doesn’t also have the Omega stamp of approval.  Domestic Hunter? Yes.  He loves the steps you’ve taken to have a home that is friendly to his senses.  No strong scents in the soaps or detergents. Blackout curtains. Towels, blankets, and sheets that are friendly to his sense of touch.  You showed your love by making your home friendly for him and he has never been more in love.  Hunter pays attention to other people and takes care of his family, so he was incredibly moved by someone caring about his needs in this way.  Hunter will do little things around the house to show you he cares about you.  You’ll come home to clean dishes, a tidied bedroom, or freshly cleaned clothes.  Sex might be too much for his senses and sometimes touch is too much in and of itself, so he strongly believes in communicating what you both need.  He’s always open to finding ways to express how much you care for each other and creating a stronger partnership.

Tech

Tech is acespec in some way.  He might rarely or never experience sexual attraction.  This man expresses his love best in quality time and acts of service.  You will want for nothing.  He might be too busy to think about feeding himself, but he will have an alarm to remind himself to pick up some food and make sure you eat.  He’ll eat with you and want to hear about your day or tell you about what he’s working on.  Besides researching topics of interest and fixing things, he loves going to museums and aquariums with you, watching documentaries, and sitting together in the same room reading.  If you want cuddle time? He’s open to it.  You’ll have to tell him the details of how to hold you and what you want and eventually he will start figuring out what he likes too.  Tech is open to experiences, so if you want to have sex for closeness or to satisfy your libido, he would try it.  “Physical urges and attraction are not the same thing,” he says.  He’s always understanding that some people don’t or rarely feel sexual attraction and for him, it’s just a matter of fact.  It doesn’t change how he feels about you.  If you never want to have sex, he is completely fine with it.  He wants to tell you about his latest project working on the hyperdrive anyway.

Echo

Echo loves your desire to fight for what’s right.  He loves how you care about people and he feels so at home with you.  Echo doesn’t like solitude so the biggest thing is going to be spending time together.  He loves reading.  Sitting together, snuggling on the couch or in separate chairs and reading something that interests each of you? Yes.  Do you like hanging out with his family and have a good sense of humor? Those are big things in his book.  

I know there are some theories that Echo only lost part of his legs and other people believe he lost everything from the waist down (plus his arm). But guess what it doesn’t matter.  In either case, Echo wants to be loved for who he is.  He wants to love you for who you are.  What you both can or cannot do physically doesn’t phase him.

Crosshair

Crosshair is protective of his heart and does not easily open up to others. He does not like vulnerability and that also means he also doesn’t get sexually intimate easily.  I think he’s at least demiromantic, needing to know someone before opening himself up to a relationship like that, so he understands not having certain types of attraction.  He does like physical touch once you are close enough, but that can mean all kinds of things.  He likes little private moments with you where you can steal away time together.  If you want to blow off some sexy steam together, he’s game, but never pressuring.  It’s more about closeness and sharing something with you that no one else gets.  If you aren’t interested, he likes to cuddle.  Sometimes he wants to be the little spoon and other times he wants to be the big spoon but he would never want anyone to know he’s a cuddler.  After all he’s been through, Crosshair wants to feel safe with you and protect and love you at the same time.

Wrecker

Wrecker loves to show his love with physical affection.  He loves hugs and holding hands and picking you up and twirling you around.  As long as you are okay with some kind of physical touch, he’s more than happy.  He loves when you fall asleep on top of him.  He loves watching holos with you, eating snacks, and cuddling.  If you want to have some sexy times, he’s game, but ultimately doesn’t need that.  He wants someone he can have fun with!

Jesse

Jesse is so incredibly sweet. He loves cuddling and pulling you in close to sit on his thighs.  The first time he does this he can tell you’re a little worried (maybe that he will try to take things further), so he is very reassuring, showing you he just wants to be close.  He loves touch, but only if it’s something you like too.  He likes consistency and so his primary desire in a relationship is someone he can trust and depend on and he also wants to be that for the person he’s with.  He understands that just because you don’t feel sexual attraction doesn’t mean you don’t love him.  There’s a reason you want to share your life with him, after all.  He lets you take the lead when it comes to any kind of physical touch, including sex.  He’s a lot of fun in bed if you go down that road for closeness or address your physical needs.  Otherwise, he loves cuddling in bed. He is most comfortable spooning and having an arm around you in some way.

Hardcase

While I don’t necessarily get ace vibes from Hardcase, I think he would be great with an ace partner. Especially if they are extroverted.  A typical day would involve waking up, eating quickly, and some kind of adventure.  Whether it’s getting up to shenanigans at a water park, or playing paintball, or spending the day at work for you and at the barracks for him, I see him happy to be busy.  I think he would love to come home and eat some good food. He loves take out.  He quickly realizes that you not wanting sex sometimes doesn’t mean he can’t have self-care time on his own.  If you like the idea, he would love for you to buy him a sex toy.  He sees it as a way to stay connected on that level without making you uncomfortable, which is the last thing he wants.  He is very open to learning what it means to be asexual, and quickly learns that not having sexual attraction doesn’t mean you have zero sex drive.  He loves taking the time to learn what makes you feel good physically and where the boundaries are.

Tup

Tup is a sweetheart who loves quality time with his partner.  He would love to explore hobbies like video games, baking, cooking, or anything with animals.  Tup loves anything that is relaxing and he is for sure a cuddler.  If you aren’t into touch, he likes things like sharing a blanket while sitting together or finding a happy middle ground like maybe holding your hand or sharing clothes.  If you want to satisfy your own urges together, Tup is absolutely up for it.  He thinks you’re incredibly sexy and gorgeous and likes to take his time and make you feel good.  

Dogma

Oh sweet Dogma.  This man loves rules and boundaries.  He loves knowing what is on and off limits because it makes him feel safe and secure.  He also feels loved when you want to know his own boundaries.  It shows him you care.  So Dogma doesn’t really care about what the actual boundaries are so long as he knows them.  He is quite nervous to initiate physical contact, even kissing, but he does say when he would like to try something.  He’s very communicative.  He does not mind if something is off limits. He just wants to show you love.  He takes up baking, loving the precision of measuring the ingredients, so you can expect treats every time he sees you.  When it comes to intimate relationships, Dogma knows there are many different ways to be intimate.  He wants to be understood and show you that you’re the one who has his heart.

Fives

Fives loves a good time.  It was something that drew you in from the beginning.  When he first asked you out, you couldn’t deny he had some kind of magnetism.  He was a total goofball.  He knew about your asexuality before you started dating. You might have been a bit surprised when he asked you out, but couldn’t say no.  Fives tells you right away that you can take the lead on anything physical.  He likes kissing, but especially loves hugs.  If you’re up for fooling around, he loves it. If you never want that, he understands.  He just wants to be with you.  It takes him a long time to admit that he would absolutely love to shower with you.  A hot shower helps him relieve stress and he sees it as a way to spend some relaxing time with you, but he doesn’t want it to seem like he’s asking for more, so he might need some reassurance once he brings it up.  Ultimately though, he loves quality time together.  There will joking, laughter, and joy.  Fives is also a wonderful friend and partner who you can trust.  While you wouldn’t necessarily have taken Fives to be very serious, he’s incredibly serious about your happiness and making sure you have every little thing you want.  If you’re having a hard day, he listens and holds your hand.

Kix

Kix loves being your partner.  He loves the domesticity of coming home and snuggling on the couch.  He might love doing some other things on the couch if you want, but he understands if you don’t want to.  He loves laying on the couch while you lay on top of him and watch holomovies.  He loves little kisses and holding hands.  He loves reading in bed next to you before falling asleep.  He’s also seen a lot during the war and carries a lot of grief.  He trusts you with his grief and sometimes he just needs someone to cry to about it all.  If you like romance or are in more of a romantic mood, he will go all out.  Favorite flowers, candy, foods, whatever you love.  He takes the time to learn your favorites for those occasions. You want slow kisses next time he’s on leave? He won’t stop thinking about it.  You simply want to collapse into someone’s arms? He wants nothing more than to provide those arms for you.

Gregor

Gregor is open to learning about anything, but his favorite topic is you.  He loves going out with you, dancing, and laughing.  He loves a good time.  If you’re shy, he finds a way to help you come out of your shell around him a little without pressing the issue.  He wants you to feel secure with him.  Gregor loves kissing and wouldn’t mind getting physical and when he asks about your boundaries going further, your heart sinks. You’re worried about where this is going and haven’t exactly told him about your sexuality yet. You quickly find that he just wants to express how he feels.  He asks a lot of questions about what it means for you to be asexual.  He’s inquisitive.  If you don’t want to have sex ever, he takes the time to hear how close you want to be and what feels safe to you.  He’s definitely not opposed to things like masturbating together if you want to go down that route sometimes.  Ultimately he realizes that his favorite thing to do with you is turn on some music and dance in the living room.

Wolffe

There’s actually a fic about this here.  Wolffe might be grumpy sometimes, but you make his life so much better and you get to see softer sides of him that no one else does.  You understand him and he appreciates your support.  He wants you to feel loved in the way that you want to be loved.  He is completely comfortable taking care of his sexual needs on his own.  He loves snuggling with you at night.  That’s his favorite.  He loves holding you and being held by you.  You’re comforting to him.  Before falling asleep, he likes chatting with you about how the day went and or reading a holonovel together.  

Rex

Rex is awkward around people in social situations, but you’re happy to help him navigate relationships.  He doesn’t think much about sex because frankly, he’d just like to make it through this conversation without getting lost in his own worry.  Over time he starts to relax more and you find that quiet time with the two of you is much preferred to going out.  He’s even nervous to hold your hand, but you tell him it’s totally okay.  Once he realizes how deep his feelings are, he has to speak with you.  He likes to know where things are headed and what kind of relationship you want. Queerplatonic? He quite likes that.  Or something with more of a romantic bend? Yes, sure, that could also work just fine too.  The only thing he really doesn’t want is to be with someone purely for the physical aspects.  His feelings toward his partner are so strong and he wants nothing more than to protect you and let you know he’ll always be there for you.

Cody

Snuggle king.  He is under so much pressure as a marshal commander and then later after the war, he’s dealing with a lot of mixed feelings about everything that happened.  He loves that he can be with you, go to bed or lay on the couch, and hang on to you. He likes little kisses on the top of his head while you hold him.  It helps him let go of stress and worry.  He can feel you right there with him and it’s the safest place in the galaxy.  You’re asexual? Great.  He just wants to love you the way you want to be loved.  You want romance? He will hold your hand and kiss the back of it.  You want domestic partnership? He will hug you and do your laundry. Do you need some space to yourself? That’s fine.  He will just be over here watching a holo and napping after buying groceries so you don’t have to worry about it.  You want a quickie to blow off some steam? He’s game.  You want to shower naked and wash each other’s hair and feel close that way? He’s good with that too.  You want to swap pillowcases while he’s gone so you can both feel close that way instead? He thinks that’s the best thing he’s ever heard.

Mayday

Mayday wants to be with you, preferably on a planet that rarely gets snow.  You fell for his dry sense of humor and how much he cares about the people he’s close to.  He worries about losing more people in his life, so he was cautious to approach you.  Once he realizes you’re around to stay, he starts to relax. Mayday likes to do little things to show he cares.  He really gets into cooking hot meals.  He loves making fresh soups and gardening.  When he starts baking bread you swear you will never buy a loaf ever again.  After all he’s been through, he’s happy to have the chance to be with someone and feel at home.  Getting physical? He likes hugs, cuddles, and kisses if you’re okay with it.  Just chaste kisses or little pecks on the cheek all you want? Absolutely.  Whether he addresses his own sex drive on his own or as a mutual endeavor (if you’re open to it) doesn’t matter to him.  It takes him a long time to open up in some ways, but once he does he’s always making sure you’re on the same page.  He will always cautiously wait until he gets a green light.

Fox

He’s just happy to come over to your place and sleep in a real bed.  This man is all about relaxation when he’s with you.  Whatever that looks like, he loves it.  It can be the simplest things, like having extra comfortable shorts to wear around your apartment, or folding laundry together before putting fresh sheets on the bed.  He feels so comfortable with you and that’s the most important thing to him.

Tagging: @kixs-husband @staycalmandhugaclone @wreckers-wife @dukeoftheblackstar

[anxiouspineapple99]

Queen of Hearts

Vampire!Fox x Fem!Reader

Summary: On your way home from work one early morning, you catch Fox drinking a man's blood in a back alley, and it changes your life forever.

Pairing: Vampire!Fox x Fem!Reader

Characters: Fox, Thorn, clone OCs

Tags & Warnings: 18+, NSFW, MonsterClone!AU, clone discrimination, clone rights, minor injuries, violence, murder, blood, angst, domestic fluff, mild sexual themes, non-sexual intimacy, erotic blood drinking, enemies to friends to lovers, reader can be considered demisexual, stalking

Word Count: 14.5k

Author's Note: This fic is dedicated to my beloved @starrrgazingbunny! She gave me the clone, the monster, and the prompt, which inspired this monstrosity of a fic. Haha, get it? Monstrosity? Monster? I'm hilarious. Anyway, I love you darling and I hope you like the fic 😘 As always, please enjoy 💚

@clonexreaderbingo Square: "Your eyes sparkle."

MonsterClone!AU Prompt: "I know what you did."

Fox’s boots rhythmically clack against the sterile tile floor of the GAR clinic as he strolls through the bright halls with his hands clasped neatly behind his back. It’s late, and he was sorting through an endless stack of data-pads when he received the comm that one of his Corrie Guards was injured on duty and undergoing medical treatment at the clinic. After the comm, he tossed his data-pad to the side and downed the rest of his cold caf before making his way to the clinic.

Fox hates receiving these comms because it’s always the same story. The natborns, who he swears are born with only one brain cell each, are cruel to his corries. Their apathetic dismissal of a clone's mere existence boils his blood. The clones never asked to be created and they surely never expected to be used, abused, and thrown out with the evening’s trash. They are flesh and blood men, his men, and he considers each one of their lives as his responsibility.

Fox lets his frustrating thoughts dissipate when he stops in front of the exam room door. The medic on duty, whose fingers are rapidly tapping on a data-pad medical chart, deviates from his rounds when he sees Fox with his arms crossed. Fox stays silent as he approaches, so the medic continues his data entry as he waits. Fox glances through the window of the door to get a small glimpse at the situation, then turns to address the medic. “What happened?”

The medic looks up from his data-pad and frowns. “He was breaking up a street fight on the lower levels when a natborn busted his nose and broke his arm.” The medic shakes his head. “Poor kid. It was his first night on patrol too.”

Fox sighs, thanks the medic, and dismisses him with a silent nod.

As the medic leaves, Fox opens the door and quietly slips into the exam room, hoping to go unnoticed. He leans back against the wall and crosses his arms as he observes another medic carefully tending to the corrie’s injuries. Fox slumps his shoulders and releases a heavy sigh as he assesses the bruises on the clone’s face. This is the fifth corrie he’s gone through this week and the trend is only getting worse. It’s mind-numbing to him, just how cruel the natborns are.

After watching for a few more seconds, Fox pushes himself off of the wall. He pulls his bucket off and sets it down on the counter, his loose curls cascading down to just above his eyes. He walks over to the exam table, taps the medic on the shoulder, and asks him to take a break. The medic nods and hands Fox the bandages and adhesive before exiting the room. Fox flicks his hair to the side and away from his eyes as he takes a seat on the stool in front of the injured clone.

“C-Commander,” the corrie stammers in surprise while scrambling to stand to attention.

Fox reaches up and places two firm hands on the clone’s shoulders to gently push him back down onto the exam table. “At ease, vod,” his voice soothes. “No need to get up. You’re hurt.”

“Y-Yes sir,” the corrie says, nervousness escaping his voice. It’s not every day a shiny gets a visit from their commander, let alone have them bandage their wounds.

Fox lets a small smile creep onto his lips. He always finds it endearing the way the shinies act around him. They think he’s some sort of celebrity being the Marshall Commander of the Coruscant Guard, but in reality, he’s just an overworked, sleep-deprived, and overly-caffeinated bag of meat. There’s nothing about his existence that makes him feel worthy of their praise, at least, not when his men sit in the clinic wounded while he sits behind a desk doing data-work.

“What’s your name, kid?” Fox asks, his fingers working deftly to continue wrapping the bandage where the medic left off.

“Slapstick, sir,” the corrie says.

Fox chuckles at the name and tightens the side of the bandage.

Slapstick winces at the pain. “Apparently, I’m good at comedy, sir,” he jokes.

Fox grins. “You’ll have to tell me a joke when you’re better.”

“Will do, sir,” Slapstick smiles.

Fox makes quick work of wrapping the broken arm and gently gives it back. He grabs a cloth sling and fits it over Slapstick’s shoulder, making sure the elevation is correct for his arm to rest comfortably. Fox then grabs a few cotton pads and dabs them with alcohol to clean the blood off the corrie’s face and applies a bandage across his nose. When finished, Fox sits back in the chair and watches as Slapstick nurses his broken arm, a flash of emotion crossing his bruised face.

Fox frowns, rises from the chair, and places a firm hand on the younger clone’s shoulder. He peers into the shiny’s innocent, yet fearful eyes, and silently reassures him. “Do what the medics tell you, and you’ll be fine. That’s an order.”

“Yes, sir,” Slapstick nods. “Thank you, Commander.”

Fox smiles with sad eyes. “You’re welcome, kih’vod.”

Fox turns away, grabs his bucket off the counter, replaces it on his head, and then exits the exam room. He softly shuts the door behind him and stands in the hallway for a moment to compose himself. He closes his eyes and exhales slowly to release the tension built up in his shoulders. They’re so young. He laments. The new shinies come in looking so full of life and eager to please their superiors. It catches him off guard every time he sees one of their youthful faces.

Being part of one of the earliest batches of clones, Fox feels old. The gray streaks running through the sides of his dark curly hair only serve to prove it. It’s ironic to him since his batchmates haven’t grayed yet, so it must be the stress. He and the shinies are only a few years apart in manufacture date, but the accelerated aging makes him feel as if he’s lived a lifetime. He wishes he could relive the days when he was a shiny. Back then, they didn’t even have names.

Fox still remembers being a fresh young clone and ready to serve the Republic. He was created as part of a batch of commanders bred to be leaders, with superior intelligence and bolstered strength. Little did he know what true horrors he and those under his command would endure. The constant ridicule by every lifeform walking the streets of Coruscant, the discrimination and litany of ‘no clones allowed’ signs on business storefronts, and the lack of human decency was, and still is, repulsive.

He didn’t ask for this post, one so far from the war. Yet, here he is, visiting the broken men under his command and taking every bit of their suffering personally. Each one who is spat on, belittled, cursed at, and dehumanized weighs deeply on his soul. At least on the battlefield they’d receive the respect they deserve. At one point, Wolffe warned him of being overly attached to his men, and Fox knew Wolffe had every right to speak about loss, but he still didn’t listen.

He internalizes all of their pain and lets it steep deep within him. His anger for the natborns burns white hot in the pit of his stomach. He decided long ago that there’s nothing good about a natborn. They’re all useless beings that sit on pious ideals and build their peace on the dead bodies of his brothers, stacking them like cheap bricks and using their blood as mortar. But now, he’s done letting the atrocities slide. He’s done watching his brothers suffer at their hands.

Fox straightens himself as his resolve settles within him. Purpose driven, he marches back to headquarters. He doesn’t bother turning the lights on in his dark office, the blue glow from his data-pad illuminates his face as he sifts through the new reports to find the one about Slapstick. He pulls up a holo-recording of the events and watches it with intent. He notes the location, and when he sees the natborn’s face, he tosses the data-pad onto his desk and leaves his office.

He knows what he needs to do, and he’s finally ready to act on his intentions. The guilt that has crept into him, knowing that he could have done something sooner, only propels him forward in his mission. As he nears the exit of the headquarters’ building, Thorn is waiting for him. Fox curses under his breath. He knows Thorn will try to stop him, try to talk some sense into him, but he doesn’t care. He’s done playing around, and if he has to go through his brother, he will.

Thorn crosses into Fox’s path and folds his arms. "And where are you going?"

"Out,” Fox answers as he steps to the side to go around him.

Thorn follows his movements, preventing him from advancing. "What? You've got a hot date or something?"

"Something like that," Fox mutters, trying to side-step him again.

"I know what you’re gonna do," Thorn says, blocking his brother again. “I can smell it. The lust.”

Fox grunts in frustration and forcefully pushes past his brother. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Thorn turns and catches Fox’s arm, his grip tight. "Whatever you think you're going to accomplish out there is only going to come back to bite you,” he warns. “You're gonna get caught!"

Fox smirks under his helmet. "Not if I bite first."

A small gasp escapes Thorn’s throat. He didn’t want to be right. He knew Fox was up to something malicious when he first caught a whiff of his altered scent, a shift so strong he could smell it from two klicks away. He refused to believe that his brother would go this far and intentionally put all of the commanders at risk by going rogue, but he was wrong. Fox is going through with it. In his brief shock, Thorn’s grip slacks enough for Fox to yank his arm out.

Fox, finally free of his brother’s blockade attempt, stalks off into the night to find his prey.

“Fox!” Thorn calls, desperate to get him to reconsider, but Fox doesn’t respond, and Thorn, powerless to stop him, watches as he slips into the shadows of Coruscant.

You let out an exhausted sigh as you finish up your shift at the diner. It’s been a long night, and you glance at the chronometer on the wall while stretching out your back. It’s 02:00 hours and almost time for you to go home. You don’t mind working the second shift, in fact, you enjoy being a night owl and sleeping during the day. The initial adjustment to your schedule was difficult, but now that you have a routine set, your body works just as well as it did in the daylight.

After bringing the remainder of the plates to the kitchen, you grab a to-go container and pile all of the leftover scraps into it, then pour what’s left from the caf carafe into a to-go cup. Your manager is a good person, and she lets you take food home at the end of your shift for dinner. It isn’t much, just what customers didn’t finish, but you’re always grateful. Once you have all of your things gathered and your leftover dinner, you wave goodbye to the rest of the staff and leave.

As you walk along the diner front, you frown at the bright circular neon sign. It has an image of a clone’s helmet in the center and a large red slash running through it. You don’t understand what people have against the clones because they seem human enough to you. Sometimes it bothers you to be working in such a discriminatory business, but you don’t have much of a choice. Most places of business are anti-clone, and it’s hard getting a job with one that’s clone-friendly.

You sigh, and continue along the darkly lit street towards home. As you approach the next alleyway, you see two Coruscant Guardsmen leaning against the wall. You smile and wave at them and they eagerly wave back. One of the perks of working the second shift at the diner is that you get the pleasure of running into your two favorite Corrie Guards, Traipse and Chris, on their patrol route. They’re wonderful friends, with big hearts, and even bigger stomachs.

“Watcha got for us today, mesh’la?” Traipse asks as he slips his bucket off.

“The usual,” you smile and hand the to-go container to him. “A couple half-eaten sandwiches and some cold fries, but this time there’s a little ketchup stuck to them.”

“Sweet!” Chris rips his bucket off as he eyes the food in the container, practically salivating at the prospect of cold, soggy fries.

It breaks your heart to see them so excited over scraps from another patrons table, but you know that anything you give them is better than what the GAR feeds them. It’s the least you can do for them, and they truly appreciate the meal. You still remember the first day you met them when you began working at the diner. They were new and on patrol when they stopped in for a hot cup of caf, which was a big mistake. The owner was livid, cursed at them, and almost shot them.

The scene that unfolded in front of you was just as frightening as it was disturbing. The two corries only wanted a cup of caf to keep them awake during their patrol, and they were nearly killed over it. That was the night your heart broke and truly softened for the clones. You felt so bad for them that at the end of your shift, you scraped together all the leftover food and caf you could get a hold of, and searched the streets looking for them. You’ve been friends ever since.

“And,” you sing while holding up the to-go cup, “some caf to wash it down.”

Their eyes light up like it’s Christmas. “No way! You got us caf too?”

You laugh and hand the cup to Chris. “It’s not very hot, and it's a bit stale, but it should be enough for the both of you to share.”

Chris takes the first sip of the lukewarm, slightly stale caf, and you can see the tension slip from his shoulders. It’s like he’s tasting caf for the very first time, and it’s not even good caf. You smile, but on the inside, you’re hurting. All of the caf shops on their patrol route are anti-clone, so they can’t stop for a simple cup of caf or even grab something to eat. They have to wait until their patrol is over and return back to the GAR headquarters. You wish you could do more.

“Thank you, mesh’la,” Traipse says, then gives you a big hug. “You’re so good to us.”

“It’s my pleasure,” you smile as you squeeze him back. “You know, someday I’m going to open my own diner, just for clones.”

Chris grins. “We’ll be your first customers!”

You laugh at his exuberance, and tap your foot on the ground. “I wish I could stay and chat, but I really need to get home.”

Chris hands the cup of caf to Traipse who takes a small sip. “You want us to escort you home?”

“Nah,” you say with a dismissive wave of your hand. “I’ll be fine. I walk this route every night, you know.”

“Be safe, okay?” Traipse says. “And if you need us, you know where to find us.”

“Thanks boys,” you give them each a farewell hug and set out towards home, turning around to wave goodbye one more time.

You really did want to stay and chat with your friends like you do every night, but this particular shift was exhausting and now you only want to sleep. You barely had any breaks in between your tables being filled and emptied, so your feet ache painfully. Just the distance to walk home is enough to make you want to scream in agony. You didn’t want to tell your friends that your feet hurt, because you know that one of them, if not both, would have tried to carry you home.

It’s not that you wouldn’t mind being carried home by a big, strong, and handsome clone, but they have a job to do. They're on patrol, and you’re already putting them into jeopardy by chatting away with them when they’re supposed to be walking about the streets of Coruscant. They’re allowed to take breaks, but to have them deviate from their course so severely just to take you home because your feet hurt, is way too big of an ask. It would not be right..

As you continue to walk the dark streets, illuminated only by neon signs, your thoughts are interrupted by a noise coming from one of the side alleys. It almost sounds like a scuffle. They say curiosity killed the tooka, but it hasn’t killed you yet. So, you cautiously peer down the alley and see two men standing by the wall. One looks like a clone, but you can’t tell what color his armor is, and the other man looks wasted. You tip-toe closer and crouch behind a crate to get a better listen.

“I know what you did,” Fox says as he backs the drunken man against the wall.

“Get lost clone,” the man slurs.

"You hurt my kih’vod," Fox says.

"Your what?" the man asks, clearly confused with the term.

"My kih’vod," Fox repeats. "You broke his arm, and for what? Fun?"

The man pauses as he tries to understand what the clone is talking about through his drunken haze. Once it finally registers, the man sneers and becomes angry. "He deserved it!" the man yells. "All of them! They're all freaks of nature!"

"Freaks of nature?" Fox mocks and cocks his head to the side, feigning confusion at the accusation. "Whatever do you mean?"

"Disgusting meat droids," the man scoffs.

Fox chuckles darkly and gets in the man’s face. "You don't understand anything."

"What’s that?" the man slurs.

Fox pulls his bucket off and whispers in the man’s ear. "I'm the freak of nature." He grabs the man by the throat and lifts him up against the wall.

"Let go!" the man yells as he struggles in Fox’s grasp.

"You're not in a place to bargain," Fox says, purposefully baring his fangs in a show of intimidation. The neon lights bounce off the fangs, making them glow bright, a stark contrast to the dark alley.

You startle at the sight of the fangs and your grip loosens on the side of the crate, causing you to fall into the alleyway, making a thud noise when you hit the ground. You scramble back to your hiding place behind the crate and clamp a hand over your mouth, hoping he didn’t hear or notice you. You close your eyes as your mind races a mile a minute, wondering just what in the stars you just saw.

Fox snaps his head to the side when he hears the sound and he catches a small glimpse of you scurrying behind the crate. Tucking that away to deal with later, he turns his attention back to his prey. “Looks like we have an audience,” Fox sighs. “I just hate it when guests show up uninvited to dinner, don’t you?”

The man wriggles helplessly in the Fox’s grasp, fear washing over him as he realizes the mistake he’s made.

"Confess your sins," Fox says.

"I… I'm sorry, please," the man pleads, tears streaming down his face.

"Oh, not to me," Fox explains. "I'm not your Maker."

The man whimpers, haphazardly kicking and fighting to get free, but he’s too weak under the influence of alcohol.

"I am your death," Fox sinks his fangs into the man's neck and sucks every last bit of blood out of his worthless body. Eventually, the man stops wriggling, and his body slumps in Fox’s grasp.

Fox grimaces at the bitter taste of the man’s blood, but it’d be a shame to waste it. He finally pulls away from the man’s neck, panting for breath, then spits the last bit of the bitter blood out of his mouth as he staggers back. The alcohol in the man’s blood begins to make him feel light-headed and woozy. He turns to where you’re hiding behind the crate and starts walking towards you. His bucket sways in his left hand, while his right hand drags the man’s limp body alongside him.

Fox stops in front of you and drops the lifeless body beside you. The man’s cold, dead eyes meet your live ones, and you feel sick to your stomach. You look up at the clone with wide eyes as fear and dread wash over you like a heavy blanket. You can see now that his armor is red, red like the Coruscant Guard and red like blood smeared on his face. Your breath quickens when you notice the elongated fangs made visible as he pants from his fresh kill.

“You’re a… a…” you stammer out as you slowly inch away from his looming presence.

“A vampire?” Fox finishes your sentence with a roll of his head, still feeling tipsy from the alcohol invading his system.

“That’s… impossible,” you say. You’re at a loss for words as your brain flips between fight, flight, and freeze. Sure, you’ve read the stories about vampires, but they were just stories, right? Vampires don’t exist in real life, do they? You’re not sure what to think, but you don’t have time to work through figuring out an answer. You dart your eyes to the left and to the right, looking desperately for an escape route.

Fox kneels down in front of you and grabs your chin, forcing you to look into his deep brown eyes. “This is our little secret. Do you understand?”

You nod your head, too shocked to give a verbal response.

Fox searches your face for a moment, unsure of what he’s looking for, but eventually he releases you. “Run along little one,” he whispers, “or the fox might catch you.”

At his words, you scramble backwards, awkwardly trying to get up off the ground. He’s not coming after you, but the fear and adrenaline that’s raging inside your body tells you to run away. You get to your feet and you run. You run as fast as you can. You look back to make sure he’s not following you, and you see him, standing where he left you, watching you as you make your escape. You turn forward and continue running, ignoring the pain in your already tired feet.

You’re not sure which direction you're running in, just that it’s away from him. You wonder what he meant by ‘the fox’. Who is ‘the fox’? Is he a fox? No. He’s a vampire. Is his name Fox? You’re not sure of anything at the moment, and you decide to figure it out later. You keep up your stiff pace, dashing through the streets, turning down corners that look familiar until you come to an abrupt stop when you crash into Traipse. A small yelp escaping your lips as you fall backwards.

“Mesh’la?” Traipse asks in surprise.

Chris stoops down to pull you to your feet. “Are you alright? That was quite the hit.”

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Traipse adds as he looks you over to make sure you’re not hurt.

“I’m okay,” you pant.

Traipse and Chris trade bewildered glances and briefly look around to see what you might have been running from.

“What happened?” Chris asks. “We thought you went home.”

“I…” you want to tell them what happened. You want to tell them what you saw, but you quickly remember that you were sworn to secrecy, so instead, you feed them a lie. “I just got spooked. That’s all.”

Traipse doesn’t believe your explanation for one second. He narrows his eyes in suspicion. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” you insist with a shaky breath, trying to sound convincing. You pause for a moment, then make a simple request, hoping that they’ll stop asking questions. “Would you walk me home now? Please?”

“Of course,” Traipse answers. He’s still not happy with the lack of explanation, but he doesn’t want to push it any further. “It would be our pleasure.”

The two corries walk on either side of you as you make the journey home. You feel a sense of safety with them at your side, so you try to let yourself relax a little. Many people fear or even hate the Coruscant Guard, but you’ve always enjoyed having them around. They make the lower levels more bearable and safe to live in, and your late nights aren’t so lonely. But now, can you really trust them? Are they really who you think they are? You’re not so sure anymore.

As you approach your apartment, you once again think about the corrie you encountered in the alley. You know that he’s a corrie based on the color of his armor, but you’ve never seen him around the lower levels before, or at least not on your route home. Perhaps he lives on the upper levels and comes down to the lower levels to feed. Your skin bristles at the thought. A vampire amongst the clones. A vampire amongst the Coruscant Guard. What if there are more?

You glance at your companions and briefly wonder if they’re vampires too. You quickly throw the idea out of your mind. If they were vampires, wouldn’t they have drank your blood by now? You shake your head to remove the swirling thoughts. The sun will be rising soon, and you just want to go to bed at this point. When you arrive home, you thank your two escorts as they leave you outside of your apartment, but they stay long enough to make sure you get inside safely, and for that you’re grateful.

Once inside, you lock your door and check every window to make sure they’re locked as well, and then pull the room darkening curtains across them. The fear that has crept inside of you from the words of the mysterious corrie in the alley has not left you. You shiver and slink down beside your bed, clutching your knees to your chest. You wonder if he’ll find you or if he’ll try to hurt you. You know not all clones are good, but you’ve always tried not to judge them on the outside.

As your adrenaline winds down, you decide to skip dinner, throw on your pajamas, and curl up under your duvet, covering your head with the thick material like a child afraid of the monsters under their bed. You keep a light on beside your bed, just in case, then slowly drift off to sleep as your exhaustion overrides your fear and forces you to sleep. Surprisingly, you sleep well, and are only awoken by your preset alarm at 17:00 hours, reminding you to get up for another day.

You barely remember the events of the night before in your waking haze, but as your senses return, the fear and anxiety creeps back in. You now wish you had asked Traipse and Chris to walk you to work as well. You know they would have if you asked. Sighing heavily, you take a quick shower, get dressed, and throw some food together for a hasty breakfast before heading out the door. Fortunately, your route to work is uneventful, which you’re thankful for.

Your day at work is the same as usual. With the hustle and bustle of the diner, you rarely have a moment to even think about the corrie in the alley. Between waiting tables, refilling caf, and chatting with the patrons, you almost forgot. However, there’s a nagging feeling in the back of your mind. The feeling that you're being observed. You don’t let it bother you too much, but you know it has to be him, watching your every move, making sure you don’t spill his secret.

At the end of your shift, you bring the remaining plates to the kitchen, gather up another to-go container of scraps and pour the last of the night's caf into a to-go cup for Traipse and Chris. You bid farewell to your co-workers and meet up with your two corrie friends by the next alley. They’re leaning against the wall, waiting for you to show up, but with stern looks on their faces. They must be worried about you. However, their demeanor perks up when they see you coming.

Across from the diner and in the shadows, Fox watches you. He keeps his distance, but he decided to keep an eye on you after the events of the previous morning. The words from Thorn rotate in his mind about getting caught and they churn in his stomach, because knows what will happen if the GAR finds out he’s a vampire, and he knows he put the rest of the commanders at risk. Which he mentally kicks himself for; the stubborn stupidity and lack of rational thinking.

Thus, he watches you, making sure you keep your mouth shut. He really doesn’t want to have to shut it for you, so he’s saving that drastic option for last. The keeping of his secret is vital to his entire batch’s survival. Only a few people outside of the commander batch know what happened during that unfortunate training mission, and that’s how he wants to keep it. It’s not safe for any of them. They’re not monsters and they’re not animals, but they aren’t normal.

It was a routine training mission for the batch of commanders. A get in, complete the objective, and then get out type of mission. Their Mandalorian instructor was a proud and harsh man, but he knew how to train strong leaders. However, something went wrong when they stumbled upon an unknown creature in the bowels of the world. An otherworldly looking being that struck fear in all of them, even their instructor. Every man on that training mission left that world changed.

They left that world infected. Each one gained a heightened sense of smell, sharper ears, and an unusual taste for human blood. They could hear heartbeats as people passed by and smell fear on their men. The change was difficult, being acutely aware of others around them, and they didn’t drink blood often. It wasn’t needed for survival, so why risk it. Most of them didn’t like talking about it either. So, their fangs remained hidden and their attraction to blood was stifled.

Fox snaps back from his memories when his eye catches the blinking neon sign affixed to the diner’s transparisteel front which bars his brethren from entering. He scowls at the offending sign and writes you off just like he does everyone else. A worthless natborn that can’t see past their own biased ideals. He huffs, thinking that maybe it would be worth the trouble to just get rid of you after your shift, but his better judgment, that he was missing last night, tells him not to.

He continues to watch you throughout your shift, unamused as you bustle around waiting tables, refilling caf, and pocketing tips. He finds you rather boring, actually, and continues to weigh your existence in his mind as to whether he wants to keep you alive or not. As you exit the diner at the end of your shift, he straightens his back and stretches. He quickly furrows his brows at the smile plastered on your face and wonders what you could possibly be smiling about.

Fox becomes curious about your odd happiness, so he follows you, maintaining his distance and keeping to the shadows where he can. Luckily, that isn’t a difficult thing to do in the lower levels. When he sees you approaching two Corrie Guards standing by an alley, he stiffens, worrying that you might harm his brothers. He watches intently as you get closer, his muscles tensing as he rolls the notion of ousting himself. He takes a single step forward, then stops.

Laughter. He hears laughter. His brothers are laughing with a natborn. They’re laughing with you. Fox’s mouth falls open in shock, and he takes a step backwards, caught completely off guard by what he’s seeing. He watches, dumbstruck, as you hand them the to-go container of food and the to-go cup of caf. To think that a natborn could be kind to a clone was unfathomable for Fox, but here you are, giving them food, giving them caf, and making them laugh.

The look of pure joy and happiness on their faces melts something deep within Fox. He can’t quite place the feeling, but it’s warm and soft and inviting. His anger and fear starts to crumble as his features soften. Could he be wrong about you? Is there such a thing as a good natborn? His skepticism and apprehension are replaced with intrigue and curiosity, and he decides that he needs to know more about you. So, he watches you more, but now because he wants to.

You fidget with your fingers and shift your weight between your two feet. “Hey, can I ask you guys a question?”

“Sure,” Traipse says as he tosses a few potato wedges in his mouth.

You hesitate for a second, piecing together the words carefully so that you don’t say too much, but you need to know the answer. “Is there a ‘fox’ in the Coruscant Guard?”

“Is there a ‘fox’?” Chris repeats with a slight laugh. “Yeah, there’s a Fox, but he’s not in the Coruscant Guard.”

“Oh…” you knit your brows together in confusion. You swear that the colors on that clone’s armor belong to the Corrie Guard.

Traipse chuckles at your confusion and needles Chris. “What this di’kut is trying to say is that Fox is the Marshall Commander of the Coruscant Guard, so technically he’s not in it, he’s over it.”

Your mouth opens in shock. “Fox is a Commander?!”

“The Commander,” Chris corrects with a pointed finger.

Your brain continues to recalculate like a GPS that has lost its signal. You can’t believe that the corrie you ran into in that dark alley, the one that killed that man, the one that is a vampire, is also the Marshall Commander of the Coruscant Guard. You feel sick. You’re not sure what question to ask next. You don’t want them catching on and you don’t want to release too much information, so you go with something simple. “Do you like Commander Fox?”

“Of course!” Traipse exclaims. “He’s the best!”

“He visits his men when they’re in the GAR clinic,” Chris adds. “Even the shinies get a visit from him. He really cares about us. Kinda like you do.”

“Oh,” you trail off, not sure what to say.

Traipse and Chris continue to gloat about their amazing commander, which confuses you even more. The image they paint of Fox is nothing like the man you saw in the alley last night. There’s no way they’re the same man. It’s not possible. The man they’re speaking of is kind, brave, and smart, but the man you saw in the alley was terrifying, violent, and spiteful. The two images clash inside your mind as you struggle to decide if they really are the same man.

“Why do you want to know about our Commander?” Chris interrupts your thoughts.

You stiffen and come up with something quick. “Oh, no reason,” you dismiss. “I just heard the name is all.” You hope that explanation is convincing enough for them, and you let out a little sigh of relief when they shrug and change the subject.

Fox continues to watch you from the shadows as you interact with the two corries. He becomes nervous when you bring him up in the conversation, because if you’re as smart as he thinks you are, you’ll figure out his identity. With that information, you could easily go to the nearest general and get him arrested, court-martialed, or worse, decommissioned. He listens intently to his men’s praise, but his shoulders finally relax when they change the subject to something else.

After that encounter, Fox decides to watch you more, fully intrigued by the way you treat clones. He still has some doubts, and wonders if it’s only for show or if you really do care. However, night after night, he watches you clean tables, pack scraps together, and leave the diner. Like clock-work, you meet up with your two Corrie Guard friends to offer them a half-eaten meal, talk about your day, and listen as they regale you with harrowing stories of their nightly patrols.

Slowly, Fox finds himself wanting to see you more. Every night he leaves his office, whether his work is finished or not, to come and watch you at the diner. The way you dance around the tables in your apron, smile at patrons as you refill their mugs, and the sound of your laugh have become a part of his routine. He doesn’t want to miss a single second of you. He watches you with every intention to reveal himself, but he knows he can’t. Not after what you saw him do.

While Fox is back at headquarters, Thorn catches him lost in thought while sitting at his desk, mindlessly twirling his stylus around his fingers as his stack of data-pads grow. Thorn leans against the door jam and folds his arms. “You look busy.”

Fox continues to twirl his stylus while staring blankly at Thorn, unamused by his sarcastic tone. “Yeah, I am. So, why don’t you leave me to it.”

Thorn huffs. “You’ve always been a bad liar, vod.”

Fox wonders if Thorn is getting suspicious of him, and his question is answered quickly.

“You gonna tell me where you keep sneak’en off to at night?” Thorn asks.

Fox stops twirling his stylus and lowers his eyes to scan the data-pad on his desk. “It’s none of your business.”

“It’s my business if you’re gett’en us all in trouble,” Thorn retorts.

“It’s not like that,” Fox says without looking up from his data-pad.

Thorn approaches Fox’s desk and places both hands down flat onto the surface. “Then why don’t you tell me what it is like?”

Fox looks up from his data-pad and meets Thorn’s eyes with a scrunch of his nose. He emphasizes his words and says them slowly. “It’s none of your business.”

Fox and Thorn stare at each other with intensity. Thorn trying to read Fox’s intentions and Fox trying to ward off Thorn’s intrusion. As Thorn continues to search Fox’s face, he picks up on a faint scent emanating from hum. Thorn’s mouth slowly opens into a toothy grin as a singular thought pops into his mind. Thorn laughs and shakes his head, straightening himself up and moving away from the desk. He drags a hand across his chin. “You’re in love, aren’t you?”

Fox’s body tenses at Thorn’s acute awareness. “You have no idea what you’re talking about,” he dismisses, but his body betrays him. Heat slowly rises up his face and to the tips of his ears as his heartbeat quickens, which doesn’t go unnoticed by Thorn.

“You are!” Thorn exclaims with a knowing smile.

“I am not!” Fox retorts loudly, but then hushes himself to make sure no one hears. “I am not.”

“Don’t worry, vod, your secret is safe with me,” Thorn says playfully. “This is kinda unexpected though… I thought you hated natborns?”

Fox groans and leans back in his chair, running his hands down his face. “I do.”

Thorn throws him a devilish grin. “I guess not all of them.”

Fox leans forward and points his stylus at Thorn. “Get out.”

Thorn laughs and turns to leave Fox’s office, but not before giving him one more parting piece of brotherly advice. “Let me know if you need any date-night ideas.”

“Out!” Fox yells as he throws his stylus at his brother.

Once Thorn is out of sight, Fox plants his face onto his desk and groans. He never understood how Thorn could be so perceptive all of the time. He reads him like a book, but then again, he’s never been good at hiding his body’s reactions. Fox picks his head up from the desk and places it in his hands, fingers sliding through his mess of curls. He hates to admit it, but Thorn is right. He is in love, but he refuses to admit it because you’re a natborn. It goes against everything he knows.

It’s too late though, Fox can’t help himself from falling in love with you. He doesn’t get many glimpses of happiness in his life, but when he sees you. Maker, when he sees you smile, and your eyes sparkle, and you laugh, it’s enough happiness for him. He wants you to bring him table scraps and cold caf, to tell him about your day, and laugh with him. He wants to escort you home, to make sure you’re safe, and to be the reason that you smile, but he doesn’t know how.

Fox once again finds himself sitting in the shadows just outside of the diner and staring into the transparisteel window. He’s completely transfixed on you as you go about your shift. Something about your warm smile has captured his cold and calloused heart, and tonight is no different. He feels the urge again, the urge to confront you, to make himself known so he can get to know you. He kicks himself over and over for making you scared of him, but he wants to make it right.

He decides to approach you tonight, and steels himself to prepare, but as you open the door of the diner to leave, Fox catches a whiff of something intoxicatingly sweet. His heart skips a beat, his breath quickens, and his fangs become aroused at the scent. Even with his bucket on, it’s not enough to block out the decadent aroma. He pulls his bucket off and places a hand over his mouth and nose to try and stifle it, but it’s no use, the scent wafts around as you walk.

Through his growing arousal, Fox searches your body, looking for the source, and then he sees it. A bandage on your arm covering a cut. He tries to block the lustful thoughts out of his mind and remain focused, but Maker does he want a taste of you. His fangs throb out of need. The fragrance of your blood is like nothing he’s ever smelled before. Male blood is bitter and female blood is sweet, but your blood is overwhelmingly sweet. Sweeter than anything the universe could ever provide him.

Although he had plans to finally confront you tonight, he decides he needs to leave. The urge to drink your blood is too strong. If he made his move now, it would only frighten you, and that’s not what he wants to do. He doesn’t want you to be scared of him anymore. He doesn’t want you to look at him in fear like you did the night you met. He wants to make his intentions clear to you so there’s no mistake. He’ll show you that like your two corrie friends, he is also worthy of your affection.

It’s been three weeks since your terrifying encounter with Commander Fox, and you’ve finally put him and the ordeal out of your mind. You did what he asked and kept his secret, so there was no reason for him to come for you. However, you never quite lost the feeling of being watched, but you decided that it was just the paranoia getting the better of you. Besides, with Traipse and Chris walking you home every morning, you always felt safe.

Tonight is no different. You finish up your shift at the diner like usual, scrape together the best looking leftovers, and pour a to-go cup of the remaining stale caf. You clock out, say goodbye to your co-workers, and meet up with your corrie friends at the next alley over to give them their dinner. The look of excitement on their faces never fails to make you smile. It’s sad that something so simple, like table scraps and old caf, could make their night something special.

You chat with them about your day at work, and all the latest gossip from your co-workers, while they devour the diner food. A few well-timed jokes and laughs are exchanged, and when they’ve finished eating, they walk you home like they do every night since the scary incident. On the way, they fill you in on all of the juicy details of the Coruscant underworld. Some of it is so ridiculous you wonder if it can possibly be true, but you laugh and enjoy their musings.

Once you arrive at your apartment, you bid your friends farewell and swipe your keycard to enter your home. The inside of your apartment is dark, and only illuminated by a couple strings of battery powered fairy lights that are much more cost-effective on your energy bill than keeping your lights on. You lock the door behind you, toss your bag on the couch, and check all of the windows, before pulling the room darkening curtains closed as the sun threatens to rise.

You then enter the kitchen and wash the day of work off of your hands, then do a couple of the dishes that you’ve neglected for the past week. You place them neatly in the drying rack, then dry your hands as you mull over what you want to eat for dinner. You don’t feel like cooking, so leftovers are your only option. You pull open the conservator door and stare at your dismal choices. Finally, you pull out a small container of something you know isn’t bad and reheat it.

Sitting at your kitchen table, you mindlessly scroll through your data-pad and look at the current events while you munch on your dinner. You sigh as you read reports of the increased crime rate, violent anti-clone protests, and higher taxes for the lower levels. You toss your data-pad down, and grumble about there never being anything happy in the news to look at. When you finish dinner, you place your used dish in the sink, stretch, then head to your bedroom.

As you enter your bedroom, you flip the switch on the side wall to turn the lights on and nearly jump out of your skin as your soul almost leaves your body. There’s a clone lying on your bed. Of all the things you thought you’d come home to, maybe a stray tooka or something, you definitely never in your wildest imagination thought you’d find a whole clone in your apartment. You freeze and throw a hand over your mouth to stifle any noise but the clone doesn’t stir.

After the initial shock wears off, you notice that the clone’s armor looks awfully familiar to you. Your eyes widen with realization. It’s Fox. The Marshall Commander of the Coruscant Guard, a vampire, is on your bed. He’s lying on his stomach, armor still adorning his body, bucket perched on the nightstand, his face buried in one of your pillows, with both arms wrapped around it. Every single human emotion runs through your body, and you’re not sure which one to pick.

“Fox!” you yell. “What are you doing in my bed?”

Fox doesn’t move, but mumbles into the pillow. “Sleeping.”

“Why are you sleeping in my bed?” you demand.

Fox nuzzles the pillow gently. “It’s comfy.”

Your mouth falls open at his answer, but you really aren’t sure what you were expecting. “How did you even get in here?”

“The door,” he murmurs sleepily.

“I– You–” you're at a loss for words. You’re stunned. You rush over to him and grab his left leg to try and pull him off your bed, but he’s too heavy and you can’t get him to budge. You step back and groan in frustration that he’s not moving. Suddenly, something clicks in your brain and you become very afraid. “You’re…” you back away from the bed. “You’re not going to kill me are you? I kept your secret! I promise!”

Fox sighs at the fear he hears in your voice, and he mentally kicks himself for being the cause of it. He thought that confronting you in a safe place, such as your home, in a very calm and non-threatening way would make this easier on you. Clearly, he was wrong. Perhaps he should have asked for Thorn’s help after all. In an attempt to de-escalate the situation Fox remains still and speaks calmly. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

His soft spoken words almost sound sincere, but you can still see his bloody face in your memories and hear those cynical words spoken to you. You feel conflicted about the situation. He hasn’t bothered you since that night and he hasn’t moved an inch since you got home. If he really wanted to kill you, wouldn’t he have done so already? It would be way too easy. Your physical prowess is nothing compared to a clone, let alone a commander. He could easily kill you.

“I promise,” he adds when you remain quiet.

You can hear a level of vulnerability in his words that strangely sets your heart at ease. Maybe the Fox that your corrie friends spoke of is the real Fox, and the Fox that you met in the alley isn’t. You might be rationalizing away his behavior that night, but everyone has a breaking point. Ultimately, you decide to give him the benefit of the doubt. You're still not okay with him breaking into your apartment or sleeping on your bed, but maybe he just needs a place to crash.

“Can you at least take your armor off?” you sigh. “You’re getting my duvet dirty.”

Fox doesn’t move a muscle.

“Whatever,” you let out another sigh, too exhausted to argue. “I’m going to take a shower, and I’m locking the door. So don’t try anything funny.”

Fox remains silent and unmoving.

You narrow your eyes, still wary of the commander. You know who he is. You know what he is. And you know what he’s capable of. As a precautionary measure, you grab your mace from your purse on the couch, gather a change of clothes, and lock yourself in the refresher. You should feel scared, more scared than you are, but something about him feels disarming and almost safe. It’s a stark contrast to what you saw the night you met, but maybe that’s his plan.

You finish your shower and exit the refresher, feeling clean and ready for bed. When you walk back into your bedroom, you startle for a moment. Fox is still lying on his stomach on your bed, but his armor is stacked neatly next to your dresser, leaving him clothed only in his black bodysuit. You look at him for a moment, cocking your head to the side, and wonder why he waited to take his armor off. Perhaps he didn’t want to scare you by making any sudden movements.

Whatever the reason, his intentions of not harming you are made clearer every second. He’s leaving his entire body vulnerable to you. You could easily grab one of the steak knives from the kitchen and stab him in the back with it, but you won’t. He hasn’t given you a reason to, and you hope he doesn’t. You haven’t been known as the smartest person in the world, and you trust way too easily, but you honestly don’t feel any malicious intent from him as he lies in your bed.

You cautiously come around to the empty side of the bed and look at his face nestled in your pillow. His dark curly hair lines the sides of his face, coming to rest just above his closed eyes, his lips are slightly parted as he breathes slowly. You have to admit, he looks peaceful, like this is the first bed he’s ever slept on in his whole life, and your heart softens a bit for him. He’s still a vampire, you remind yourself, but he doesn’t look scary, at least not like this.

Since Fox is sleeping on top of your duvet, instead of in it, you grab a blanket from the chair on the other side of the room and carefully drape it over him. He remains still and doesn’t say a word. You still wonder why you’re doing any of this, but something deep inside tells you that he won’t hurt you. You grab another blanket for yourself and stand at the edge of the bed. He’s still a little too close for comfort, and for caution's sake, you decide to sleep with your mace in your hand.

“Can you scoot over, please?” you ask.

Without opening his eyes, Fox wiggles himself to the edge of the bed, taking the pillow with him. You stifle a snort at how funny he looks, but the smile that crosses your face cannot be hidden. He’s like a child. Acting just like the rest of the clones when they encounter such small creature comforts. You take a lot of things for granted as a human, as a natborn, but you try your best to pay it forward to the clones when you can, even if that means letting one sleep in your bed.

You crawl onto the empty side of the bed and snuggle under the blanket you pulled off of the chair. You rest your head on your pillow and look over at Fox. His eyes are still closed and he seems to be asleep. Your mind on the other hand is racing with so many questions that you’re having trouble sleeping. It keeps going back to the night you met, and makes you wonder why he’s so different today than he was then. You fidget with your fingers, then decide to finally ask.

“Fox?” you whisper.

“Hmm?” he hums.

You hesitate for a moment. “Can I ask you something?”

“Mhm,” he mumbles against the pillow.

“What would happen if they found out?” you ask.

Without opening his eyes he answers. “I’d be decommissioned.”

You chuckle. “Is that some type of early retirement?”

Fox opens his eyes slowly and looks at you. “I wish,” he sighs. “I’m defective. Defective clones are either reconditioned or decommissioned.”

You stare into his deep brown eyes. They look sad. “What’s the difference?”

“Reconditioning makes you a blank slate,” he explains. “Like a memory wipe. Then you’re put back in the general clone population to start over from scratch.”

“That’s… terrible,” you say. You don’t know too much about a clone’s life other than what your clone friends have told you, but to think that their lives can be ripped from them in an instant is sickening.

“That’s life,” Fox laments.

You pause before asking your next question, unsure if you really want to know the answer. “What about decommissioning?”

Fox rolls onto his back and leans his arm over his forehead, pushing his curls up and out of his face. He doesn’t want to tell you the truth, but if he ever wants you to understand the reason he needs you to keep his secret, then he has to tell you. “It’s just a fancy term for euthanasia.”

You sit up and your mouth gapes open in shock. “Euthanasia? Like what they do with animals?”

“Yeah,” he whispers.

“But you're not animals,” you retort.

“You’re right,” he says. “But we’re not people either. We’re products. Goods bought and sold. Some can be fixed, others need to be disposed of.”

You stifle back tears. “I don’t think of you as products.”

“I know,” Fox smiles sadly, remembering the way you treat your Corrie Guard friends. “But a memory wipe can’t fix what I am, so the only option is disposal. It used to be very common back when I was manufactured. I almost lost one of my batch brothers because he had blonde hair.” Fox chuckles at the memory.

“I’m so sorry,” you offer, unsure of what words of comfort you can even give him. The way he talks about himself, as a product makes you sick to your stomach. The reality of the clones hits you like never before and your resolve to help the clones grows even stronger. “I’ll keep your secret, I promise. I won’t let them decommission you. Any of you.”

Fox smiles at your kind words, even if they are naive. He knows you can’t save all of them, but he also knows you will try. He finds your affection for him and his brothers endearing, and it makes his heart flutter with warmth and happiness. He knows he is safe with you, that he can be vulnerable with you, and that you won’t cast him aside like so many other natborns have. You’re different, so much different than anyone else, and he never wants to lose that.

“Go to sleep, mesh’la,” Fox says. “You can save all of the clones tomorrow.” Without another word, Fox flops himself back onto his stomach and buries his face into the pillow, slowly drifting off to sleep.

You lie awake for a little while longer as the sun peeks through the top of your room darkening curtains, and think about his words, about the fate of the clones, and about his fate as a vampire. You’re not even sure how he became a vampire, or if there are more vampires amongst the clones. All you know is that this clone, this commander, Fox, is sleeping peacefully in your bed, and dreaming of a life that is more than what he was created for.

The next evening, you wake up as usual to your alarm going off, telling you to get up for another night at work. You sit up and stretch towards the ceiling, then rub the sleep from your eyes. You look over and see Fox still sleeping in the same position he started in. You wonder if sleeping on his stomach is out of habit, or if he really enjoys it. To you, it looks uncomfortable, but you let the thought go. You sneak out of bed, trying not to wake him, and start your morning routine.

Since it’s the two of you this evening, you decide to make breakfast for once, instead of just tossing whatever you find in your mouth and flying out the door. You start the caf machine and pull two mugs out from the top of your cupboard. It’s been a long time since you’ve had a guest for breakfast, so you’re glad you kept the extra mugs. As the caf percolates in the machine, you set your small kitchen table for two, with plates, forks, napkins, and cups.

You pull four eggs from the basket, but you pause when you realize that you’re not sure how he likes his eggs. To be honest, you’re not sure if he’s ever eaten an egg. You decide to play it safe by making them all scrambled. Everyone loves scrambled eggs. Then you toss several strips of bacon in a different frying pan. As you work on cooking the eggs and bacon, you pop a few slices of bread in the toaster and grab the orange juice from the conservator.

When you close the door, you’re startled to see Fox standing there. His face is still covered in sleep and his curls are all flattened on one side. He has one hand under the top half of his blacks, scratching at his stomach, and he releases a small yawn. The smell of food must have roused him from his sleep. You give him a small smile and pull out one of the table chairs for him to sit. He doesn’t say anything, but his eyes light up when you place a mug of hot caf in front of him.

He looks between you and the caf several times, almost asking for your permission to drink it. You chuckle and nod your head for him to take it. He grabs the sides of the mug, cradling it like it’s the most precious gift he’s ever received. He brings it to his lips, inhaling the beautiful aroma before giving it a small taste. The hot liquid bites his tongue, but it doesn’t bother him, not when the taste of the caf is this divine. He lets out a languid sigh and practically melts into the mug.

You smile grows bigger at his childlike innocence and you place a plate of steaming food in front of him. His face is still in his mug, but when he pulls it away and sees the food, his eyes blow wide open. Once again he’s shocked that you’re providing him with such delicacies to enjoy. He starts to feel guilty that he gets to eat like a king while his brothers are starving on rations, but he doesn’t want to be rude, so he eats what you give him and enjoys it.

Whether it was your home cooked meals or your comfortable bed, your new routine now contains Fox. Every morning, when you come home from work, you find Fox lying in your bed, exhausted from his night. You let him shower now, and even bought him his own towel, soap, and shampoo to use. Sometimes he spends a while in the shower, but you don’t bug him about it. You can only imagine how good it feels for him, after never having a proper shower in his life.

You also make dinner for the two of you as well. You have to admit, ever since Fox came into your life, your eating habits have gotten better. After dinner and dishes, you both curl up into your bed and sleep. When you first explained to him that the duvet was for sleeping under and not on, Fox got very excited. The weight of the duvet made him sleep better than he’s ever slept before. Then, in the evening when you get up, you make caf and breakfast, and you both leave for work.

It’s been several months now, and you’re completely used to cohabitating with Fox. You now expect him to be there whenever you come home. You find it fun to have a roommate. You have someone to talk to and watch sappy holo-dramas with. There’s nothing you enjoy more than curling up on the couch and eating popcorn together. He doesn’t bring in any income, but you don’t mind. The joy on his face when he drinks his first mug of caf in the evening is payment enough.

This early morning is no different than any other. You come home from work and find Fox lying in your bed, and you jostle him awake so you can make dinner together. Once you taught Fox how to cook, he became invaluable for meal prep and dinner time. Making dinner with Fox is now one of your favorite things to do. You both find it fun and a great bonding time. You talk about your days, smile, and laugh about dumb things each other says. You’ve never been happier in your whole life.

This morning, you’re making stew for dinner. It’s a new recipe and you’re really looking forward to sharing it with Fox. The days on Coruscant have grown cold and blustery, so it’s the perfect time of the cycle to be making warm food for the soul. You both set to work, peeling and chopping vegetables to throw in the pot. You're chatting about your day, when in a split second, your knife slips and you cut your finger. You wince at the pain and drop your knife on the cutting board.

Fox immediately smells your blood, that sweet sweet blood of yours that he almost forgot about. His heart skips a beat and his fangs twitch to life in his mouth. He fights it, the urge to take you right here in the kitchen and drink that precious blood of yours, and he staggers backwards until his back is resting against the conservator, covering his nose from your alluring scent. You sigh at your clumsiness and walk over to the sink to rinse your finger off, but Fox catches your arm and grips it tightly.

You snap your neck to look over at him and you see his blown pupils threatening to overtake his dark brown irises as his fangs begin to grow in his mouth. His grip on your arm is tight and for the first time in a long time, you feel fear when you look at Fox. Your life together has been so normal, you almost forgot he’s a vampire, and here you are bleeding in front of him. Your breath quickens, and your arm trembles. When Fox smells your fear, he releases your arm and steps away from you.

“I… I’m sorry,” he apologizes through a shaky breath. “It just smells so good. I couldn’t help myself.”

You rub your arm where he gripped you and knit your brows with worry. You can tell he’s struggling against the urge, and you feel bad for being afraid of him when his reaction seems automatic and not even close to malicious. He’s desperately trying to respect your boundaries, fighting the arousal in him as his fangs throb, desperate to release the building pressure. You have to get rid of it, the blood that’s causing him so much pain, so you turn the water faucet on.

“Please!” Fox pleads between pants. He reaches with his arm again, but stops himself as he poorly tries to contain his need. “Don’t waste it.”

“Do… Do you want it?” You ask hesitantly. The words feel foreign as they cross your lips.

Fox clenches his teeth and nods.

You fidget nervously. "Will I become a vampire if you drink my blood?"

Fox chuckles as he strains through his desire. "Doesn't work… Like that.”

“Fox, I’m scared,” you admit.

“Won’t… Hurt you,” Fox says through gritted teeth. “Promise.”

You hesitate for a moment, then tentatively stretch out your finger. He looks at your blood, lust overtakes his eyes, the pupils now blown wide. He wants it. He craves it. The sweetest smelling blood. He parts his lips and you can see his fangs protruding past the rest of his teeth. A fresh wave of fear hits you and you recoil your finger. Fox can smell your fear, so he takes your wounded hand gently in his and caresses the side of his face with the back of it, trying to calm you down.

He slowly slides your hand down his cheek and to his lips and darts out his tongue, flicking it across your bloody finger. He closes his eyes and he releases a sultry moan at the taste. Your blood is intoxicating and he wants more. He wraps his lips around your finger, his hot tongue swirling around it, lapping up every last drop that has spilled from it. You shudder when he starts sucking on it, pulling fresh blood from the open wound, the sensation odd and unfamiliar.

As much as Fox wants more, your finger won’t give it. The cut begins to clot without further penetration and the sweet taste slowly dissipates. He reluctantly releases your finger, a soft whine escaping from his throat at the loss of your blood. You take your finger back and inspect it, the wound already scabbing over and healing. You look at him in shock, and he stares back at you, panting as he comes down from his high. His fangs retract and his brown irises return.

“How did you do that?” you ask.

Fox sits down at the kitchen table and exhales deeply as his senses come back to him. “The secretion of my fangs.”

You raise an eyebrow.

“How much do you know about vampires?” he asks.

“Just what I’ve read in books,” you answer as you sit down at the table across from him.

“Well, all those books are wrong,” Fox explains. “First, I can’t turn you into a vampire. Second, we’re not immortal. Third, my fangs are only present when they’re aroused. And fourth, my fangs secrete both dopamine and serotonin.”

You blink at him a couple of times as you take in all the new information. You open your mouth to ask another question, but he answers that one too.

“And no, I don't turn into a bat at night or become dust in the sunlight,” he adds with a small laugh.

“So, then you don’t need blood to survive?” you ask.

Fox shakes his head. “Nope. It’s more like a craving.”

“What about the man?” As soon as the words are released, you instantly regret the question. You didn’t mean to bring that night up, but it fell out of your mouth too quickly.

Fox pauses at the question, knowing it was going to be asked sooner or later. “I drink blood for two reasons,” Fox begins and puts up two fingers. “For revenge and for pleasure.” Fox pauses again and looks to the side. “That man… He hurt one of my men. I was angry and bitter, and out for revenge.”

“Oh, I see...” You think about his words for a moment, wondering if you should ask more about that night or if you should just change the subject and move on. It’s already a sore spot between you two, but Fox has apologized about it multiple times since you’ve been living together. You ultimately decide on the latter of the options. “Does it taste good?”

Fox chuckles at the question. “Depends. Male blood is more bitter and female blood is more sweet, but those scales can tip depending on a lot of things.”

“What does my blood taste like?” You ask.

Fox traces absentminded shapes on the table with his finger and smiles as he remembers your taste. “Sweet, very sweet.”

You fidget with your wounded finger before asking your next question. “Was it… pleasurable?”

Fox purses his lips and thinks for a moment, trying to form his words carefully so as to not cause you an alarm. “Yeah, it was pleasurable, but it’s more pleasurable when I use my fangs.”

You wonder what the taste of your blood has to do with his fangs. “Why?”

“The secretions,” he says as he taps the side of his lip. “If my fangs are inside you, then you get it too. It’s supposed to keep the prey from struggling too much, but it also feels really good.” Fox rubs the back of his neck in embarrassment. He’s never had to explain this to anyone before, especially to someone he cares about. “It can make for an awkward revenge kill, but also an erotic pleasurable drink.”

A warm heat creeps across your face. You remember the way he looked when he was drinking the small amount of blood you gave him and he was clearly having a good time sucking on your little finger. Perhaps getting your blood drunk by a vampire is a pleasurable experience. Your mind begins to wander and you think about Fox sinking his fangs into the side of your neck and it sends sparks of excitement through your body. You quickly lose yourself in your daydream.

“Mesh’la,” Fox says, trying to pull you from your thoughts.

You blink back to reality. “Yeah?”

“Are you okay?” Fox asks, tilting his head to the side.

“Oh, yeah,” you let out a nervous laugh. “I’m fine. Just a lot of information.”

Fox gets up from his chair and places a small kiss on the top of your head. “I’ll finish dinner tonight. Why don’t you go shower. It'll be done by the time you're out.”

You lean your head back against his stomach, close your eyes, and sigh. “Okay.”

Fox gives you another chaste kiss and helps you to your feet. A shower does sound really nice right about now. It’ll give you some time to clear your head and think about everything that has happened. You leave Fox to dinner and head to the refresher to take a shower. You run the water for a minute before getting in, then step under the stream of hot water. The water flows across the curves of your body as the gentle massage of the droplets soothes your muscles.

You wash your hair and give it a good conditioning, then wash your body. You lather up your washcloth and run it across your arms, legs, stomach, and down the side of your neck. You stop and do it again, only slower, rubbing the soft cloth against the thin sensitive skin. You start to think about Fox, about his fangs inside you, and what it would feel like. You close your eyes and imagine it, an erotic encounter with someone you trust and love that doesn’t involve sex.

You’ve had the conversation with Fox before, about sex. You’ve been living together for a while now, and what started as a mutual living arrangement turned into a relationship before you could blink your eyes. He shared his feelings with you. How much he loves you, cares for you, and what you mean to him. The feelings are mutual. However, you always feel bad about denying him such an intimate encounter, but you aren’t ready, and you’re not sure when you will be.

Fox never pushes the issue, and he never brings it up. He only ever discusses it if you are the one who initiates the conversation. You love that about Fox. He respects every boundary you give him. Even when he was overcome with lust at the scent of your blood, he still let you make the choice. He was in pain, and he chose you over himself. He always chooses you, over and over again. This time though, you want to choose him. You want to give him what he craves.

Once out of the shower, you dry yourself off with your towel and hang it next to Fox’s. You quickly towel dry your hair, moisturize your body, throw on your pajamas, and leave the warmth of the refresher. The transition to your chilly apartment isn’t bad, because Fox grabs you from behind and pulls you against his warm chest. You squeal and then smile when he wraps his arms around your stomach. He buries his nose in your freshly washed hair and lets out a contented sigh.

“You smell good,” Fox mumbles against your scalp.

You giggle. “Really? All I smell is that stew you’re making.”

Fox chuckles. “It does smell good, doesn’t it?”

You escape his embrace and spin around on your heels. “I think it’s dinner time.”

“I think you’re right,” Fox agrees and you both head to the kitchen.

The two of you sit at the kitchen table and enjoy your dinner together. Regardless of your small chopping mishap earlier, the stew came out wonderful. Fox did an amazing job and you can see him beam with pride as you groan from the warm earthy goodness. He also made a small batch of biscuits, which surprised you. You forgot you had those in the conservator, so you're happy they finally got put to good use. After dinner, you clean up the kitchen and Fox takes his shower.

It’s just about bedtime as you see the sun peeking through your curtains. You’re already in your pajamas, so you crawl into bed. The cool sheets cause you to shiver slightly as you wait for the bed to get warmer. Fox returns from his shower, his curls still a little damp from toweling them. He removes his t-shirt and tosses it onto the chair, leaving him in only his gray sweatpants, both of which you bought him a couple months ago, then settles in on the other side of the bed.

With Fox under the duvet, you know the bed will get warm soon, but you’re still cold, so you scoot over to him to leech off of his warmth. His body radiates heat, which is why he can sleep without a shirt and not freeze to death, unlike you, who needs ten different layers, plus extra blankets to keep warm. Without opening his eyes, Fox lifts up his arm to give you access, and you eagerly take the invitation and snuggle closer to him, instantly feeling warmer.

You close your eyes and try to fall asleep, but your thoughts from earlier are nagging at the back of your mind. You start thinking about Fox drinking your blood again, and how pleasurable it might be for you. The thoughts are only compounded by being so close to him, the warmth emanating from his body, the musky scent of his skin and hair, and the feeling of his toned back muscles beneath your fingers. It’s almost too much to bear, and once again your curiosity is getting the better of you.

“Fox?” you whisper into his shoulder.

“Hmm?” he mumbles into his pillow.

“Do you want to drink my blood?” you ask, a twinge of nervousness escaping through your question.

Fox opens his eyes as a jolt of lightning goes straight from his stomach and into his fangs. The thought of drinking your blood arouses them, and they quickly become engorged and primed for penetration. He curses to himself at just how fast they were ready when you asked. Almost, embarrassingly fast. The familiar pressure begins to build and Fox shifts his body in discomfort. He doesn’t know if you’re just curious or if this is an invitation, but he prepares himself for either.

“Yeah,” Fox admits as he rotates from his stomach to his side so he can see you better. “But not unless you want me to.”

“What if I do want you to?” you ask.

Fox stifles a groan as his fangs throb in his mouth, desperate to pierce your beautiful skin. “Are you sure?” he asks.

You hesitate for a second. “Will it hurt?”

Fox picks his head up and props it up on the palm of his hand, elbow bent and leaning on the pillow. He looks into your eyes, glides his hand from your covered waist to your exposed neck, and brushes his knuckles against the soft flesh. The skin there is so supple and inviting. His fangs throb harder as he envisions himself drinking your sugary sweet blood. Fox leans closer, as he continues to caress the side of your neck, and rests his forehead against yours to reassure you.

“You’ll feel a sharp pain as they sink in,” he explains with a gentle whisper, “and they’ll throb under your skin, but the pleasure will take over soon after.”

“That doesn’t sound so bad,” you say softly.

Fox smiles, then continues. “It’ll drip a little when I pull them out, but I’ll clean it up. You might be drowsy afterwards and a bit cold. It might ache for a day, since it's your first time, and form a small bruise.”

Your heartbeat quickens at all the information and Fox can smell your growing fears.

Fox cups the sides of your face in both of his hands and looks deeply into your sparkling eyes. “You don’t have to be afraid, cyare,” he soothes. “I won't hurt you.”

You nod your head in acknowledgment.

“Tell me that you want it, cyare,” he whispers, his hands moving from your face to your shoulders.

“I want it Fox,” you answer.

“How do you want it?” he asks, nuzzling the side of your cheek with his own. “Do you want to lay down or sit on my lap? Whatever is more comfortable for you.”

You think for a moment, and if you’re going to be drowsy, then you’ll want to be laying down, so you pull back from his touch and lie back against your pillow. “Just like this.”

Fox leans over to give your forehead a small kiss, then rips the duvet off the both of you. A slight shiver runs down your body at the loss of your warm covers, but it’s soon replaced with a new warmth. Fox straddles his legs overtop yours, hovering over your prone body as his hands plant themselves at the sides of your head. Your anticipation grows as he stares down at you with lustful eyes, and a knot forms in your stomach as you wonder what his fangs will feel like as they penetrate your soft skin.

Fox can hear your heart racing and he gently places his left hand on your chest. "Relax for me, mesh’la. Your heart is beating too fast. I don't want this to hurt."

You nod your head and work to get your breathing under control to slow your heart rate. You take deep, slow breaths as Fox guides your breathing to be in sync with his. His brown irises have been replaced by blown pupils and his fangs protrude from their hiding spot, dripping with their pleasure inducing secretions. His dark curls drape around his face, accentuating his hooded eyes and parted lips. You stare into his eyes, letting your breath match his, as you finally calm down.

"Good girl," Fox praises.

He tilts his head to the right and ghosts his lips across your supple neck as he searches for the perfect spot to penetrate your flesh. It has to be just right. Too far to either side, and he might hurt you. He takes him time, even as you whimper impatiently beneath him, because he needs this to be perfect. You’re putting all of your trust in him, that he won’t hurt you, and he refuses to break that trust. He continues to nose around your neck, before he finds his mark.

"Right there," Fox breathes against your neck, causing the little hairs to stand on end. “That’s where you’ll feel me.” He nuzzles the side of your face for reassurance. "Are you ready, mesh’la?” he whispers against your skin. “To feel ecstasy?”

You release an involuntary moan at the sultry words. "Please, Fox. I want you to– Ah!"

Your words turn into a whimper when you feel a sharp pain in the side of your neck. You instinctively raise your left hand to touch the pained area, but it instead finds purchase in Fox’s hair. You clench your fist around his curls, your other hand digging into his back, as you wince at the stinging sensation. It’s just as he described, but as soon as the pain came, it went. Now all you feel is the throbbing of his engorged fangs under your skin as he drinks your blood.

Fox pulls away from your neck to catch his breath. His head rises to meet your wanton gaze and you can see your blood on his fangs and lips as he pants above you. Your own breath becomes rapid as the endorphins released from his fangs invade your system, reaching every corner of your body, causing you to elicit the most salacious moan. The feeling is euphoric and your eyes roll back in your head. He’s not even touching you, and your body feels like it’s on fire.

"How do I taste?" you ask between labored breaths.

"Intoxicating," Fox moans. "So sweet. So perfect."

Fox reinserts his fangs into your delicate skin, desperately needing to taste more of you as he becomes drunk on your sugary blood. It’s delectable, addicting, and too good to part with. A pure delicacy that he wants to drown in. His own pleasure is only magnified as you fall apart beneath him, moaning his name in the most obscene ways while taking chunks of flesh out his back. If anyone were to overhear you right now, they’d never once think that you’re being devoured by a vampire.

The flood of endorphins overpower your body. You dig your nails further into Fox’s back as you curl your toes into the sheets, trying not to scream from the tension building and releasing in your body. You understand now, what he meant earlier when he said it would be pleasurable, and you wholly underestimated just how pleasurable it would be. You’ve never felt like this before, like you're floating in a cloud of weightlessness, and you never want it to end.

Fox knows he has to stop before he drinks you dry. The urge to stay here forever, tasting you and lapping up every drop of blood you have to offer, is overwhelming. He wants to indulge in your sweet nectar and get drunk on your blood for hours, but he can't. He can feel your skin growing chilled as your blood recedes your vital organs. He’s out of time and he needs to let you go. It won’t be forever though. He has a feeling that he’ll get to drink your blood again.

With a soft whine, he releases you, panting heavily from the long drink. He looks at the two holes in the side of your neck, little pools of blood forming at the surface. He licks the droplets until they begin to clot and close, and kisses the spot for good measure before picking his head up to look at you. He licks the remaining blood off his lips and smiles down at your disheveled state. Your cheeks are flushed, eyes half open, and mouth parted. It must have been a wonderful ride.

“Fox,” you moan as your body continues to ride out the last of the endorphins.

“Cyare,” Fox purrs as he nuzzles the side of your cheek.

You look up at him with hooded eyes. “How was it?”

Fox chuckles. “I should be asking you that.”

“It was really really good,” you groan.

Fox smirks. “I’m glad.”

You groan at your body’s response. With Fox’s fangs gone, the euphoric feeling in your body slowly begins to dissipate and your senses return to you, as well as the side effects. You roll your head to the side and close your eyes. “I’m so tired.”

Fox carefully gets off of you, stretches out beside you, and strokes your hair. “That’s normal.”

“I’m cold, too,” you add with an involuntary shiver as you try to curl into a ball.

Fox frowns and pulls his fingers away. He moves toward the edge of the bed and grabs the duvet that he flung off earlier. He rolls you over so you’re facing him and gently presses you against his chest. He then wraps the duvet snuggly around you both, making sure that you are completely covered, with just enough of an opening so you can breathe. He runs his hands up and down you back as you bury your face into his neck and cling to him for warmth. “Better?”

“Mhm,” you mumble against his skin.

Fox places a soft kiss on your forehead. “Rest now.”

“Fox?” you whisper.

“Yes, mesh’la?” Fox answers.

You look into his eyes and smile. “You caught me.”

Fox chuckles and holds you tighter. “So I did.”

Masterlist

AO3

Join my taglist HERE

Tip me a tea on Ko-Fi HERE