#love from the other side of this series of tubes
coatntails · 4 months
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just-mya-writing · 24 days
“Would you still love me if I was a worm?” ~ South Park Boys
I was in the middle of writing something completely different when this idea hit me like a metal bat. I will not offer an explanation, but I will make this a series. I’m half sorry
SP boys x gn!reader
It’s a cold, rainy night and the two of you are lounging lazily on his couch
you were meant to go home a little over two hours ago, but Stan’s car is practically frozen and broke down on the way to work yesterday and you refuse to walk back in the freezing rain
instead, you and your boyfriend were content cuddling together, enjoying each others company
resting on his chest, you could hear his steady heartbeat, lulling you into a sense of security and safety
sighing through your nose, you snuggled up closer to Stan as he tightened his grip around your waist while his other hand scrolled endlessly on YouTube shorts
he’s watching Minecraft videos
looking up at him, you softly break the comfortable silence
“hey Stan...?”
“hm?” he looks away from his phone, the smallest hint of a smile on his lips as he pressed them against the top of your head
“Would you still love me if I was a worm?”
he’s silent 
he expected you to say something cute or cheesy, not something a middle school girl would ask her boyfriend 
“you hesitated” you pointed out, sitting up slightly 
“well. I had, uh, had to...to think about it first”  he stuttered, trying to figure out what you want to hear
“you had to think about if you love me?” you tilted your head to the side, trying to hold back a smile
“I do! I love you, even if you were a worm!” his panicked voice squeaked out, pulling you closer to him so your face was burred in the crock of his neck  
he smiled when he felt you giggle against his skin
“no matter what or where you are, I’ll always love you...you know that” he whispered, running his hand over the back of your head
you didn’t even need to answer him, you both knew the answer
“...my little worm” 
he snickered
well shit
new pet name unlocked
he gets you one of those fuzzy noodle worms on a string for your birthday
your his little worm now
be the best worm you can be
he had taken you out to eat 
he wasn’t paying attention when you mentioned you wanted to eat him out but you forgive him
picking up your tray of food, you brought it to the outside table Kyle had spent fifteen minutes picking out, cuz it just had to be perfect
you smiled at the red head as you sat down, picking up his drink and handing it over 
“hey Kyleee...” you started, watching his entire face break out into a smile
“yesss...” he responded in the same sing-song tone of voice, picking up a straw 
“Would you still love me if I was a worm?”
his smile dropped
a look of confusion took its place
he wrinkled his nose
“the fuck?”
“would you still love me if I was a worm?” you repeated simply, taking a sip of your own drink
“why would you be a worm?” 
you shrugged
“it could happen” you reasoned, hiding your smile behind your cup
“no it can’t, you can’t just randomly turn into a worm” he argued, fiddling with the unopened straw
“I could end up drinking a...worm turning into potion” 
he just looked at you with a deadpan stare
you took a long sip of your drink
“..oh no, I think the café accidentally gave me a worm turning into potion” you gasped, looking between your drink and Kyle
he opened one end of his straw, putting his lips to the exposed plastic tube and blowing, causing the paper wrapped around to hit you squarely in the forehead 
“my poor little worm head...” you pouted, finally causing a snort out of your boyfriend
the rest of your lunch was mostly uneventful, the two of you chatting and people watching
a few hours later, at your house, your taking your sweater out of the dryer
Kyle spilled food on it, he said he’s sorry
Kyle walked up behind you, wrapping his arms around you for a quick hug and kissing your temple 
“...yeah” he muttered before walking away 
“yeah what?” you called after him, confused
“Yeah, I would love you if you were a worm” he smiled before rounding a corner “don’t let it go to your head” he added from down the hall
too late
your ego has been boosted and the smile won’t leave your face
he’d be the best boyfriend a worm could have
laughing his ass off
help him
he’s going to choke on his gum and die again
you both were sitting on his bed
but now he’s practically rolling on the floor
his contagious laughter making you struggle to contain your giggles
“aha...wha, what did you...” he took a deep breath, tears nearly forming in his eyes “can you repeat the question?” he finally managed to say 
you took a deep breathe of your own, trying to contain your laughter
“Would you still love me if I was a worm?”
once again he erupted into a fit of laughter, just like when you first asked him
you’re not sure what you were expecting him to do or say when you asked, but it surely wasn’t a reaction like this
he suddenly stopped, sitting up and looking into your eyes, deathly serious
“I can’t fuck a worm”
now it was your turn to laugh
the laughter that came from the both of you could probably be heard from outside, not helped by the fact that Kenny was making things worse
“wait wait wait...” he shuffled over to you, hands on your shoulders “what if I...hahaha, what if I was a worm too.” he snickered, almost unable to finish his thought. “We’d have hot worm sex!”
you couldn’t even respond to him as his laughter started to mix into him coughing his lungs out, leaning onto you for support
he thought he was so funny
you started to gently rock him back and forth
“Kenny, Kenny, you didn’t answer the question!” you reminded him
“I can’t” he squeaked, voice growing horse 
his arms were now wrapped snugly around your body and you could do nothing but shake your head, running your hand through his fluffy blonde hair
his laughter slowly died down, his head still stuck on your shoulder as he squeezed you
“I dunno, would you love me if I was a worm?” he giggled 
“hmm...no” you joked, earning a little nip on your neck from him in protest
“well that’s unfortunate...cuz I’d love you, even if you were the ugliest worm in the dirt” 
you rolled your eyes
“excuse you, I’d be a hot worm” you smiled
he lifted his head up and kissed your cheek
“I’d make you a little worm house, and sing you little worm songs at night, and carry you around with me in my parka...” he rambled, small ghosts of of kisses being peppered around your face 
“alright, alright I get it” you conceded, feeling your face heat up from the relentless kisses 
“nooo, my perfect partner needs to know that they’d be the perfect worm” 
he’s not letting you go
keeps telling you how he’d care for you if you were a worm
wants to cuddle like worms
its just him laying on top of you
you can’t move
it’s fine
“abso-fucking-lutely not”
“I barely love you now”
“What kind of stupid question is that, dumbass?”
he’s in trouble and he knows it but doesn’t care
he needs you to know how stupid your question was
why a worm?
why would you even be a worm?
why would you ask him in the middle of watching a horror movie?
would saying yes make him some kind of furry?
these are the questions that plague his mind while you’re lecturing him
hope you weren’t expecting him to pay attention
“I’m not even attracted to worms, stupid, I’m attracted to you”
Cartman is a self claimed yousexual
he’s only got the hots for you and you only
no worms allowed
you’re a moronsexual
now actively steps on worms when it rains
no slimy worm in going to steal his partner if he has anything to say about it
starts tearing up
starts thinking the worst
what if while your cuddling he accidentally crushes you
what if a bird comes and swoops you up while you guys are having a picnic
do worms have lips? could he still kiss you?
maybe he could kiss your little worm head
oh gee how long do worms live for??
his thoughts are swirling and he doesn’t know what to do besides mildly panic
he promises he’ll be the best boyfriend a worm could ask for
he’ll try his best to keep you happy
“oh, please don’t leave me for a hotter, more capable worm”
you’re gonna have to explain it’s a joke before he starts googling ‘what to do when the love of my life turns into a worm’
bless his heart
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mediocre-writerr · 18 days
hiii!!! Congratulations on 2k! Can i request a wandaxfem!reader where r feels like wanda doesn't love her the same way she does. then r gets terribly injured in a mission and all her insecurities washes away when she wakes up in the med bay with wanda holding her hand... “i’ll be fine for tonight with you by my side, but don’t you know you’re my lifeline) - (lifeline, joshua bassett)
lifeline [wanda maximoff]
warnings: stab wounds, explosion, mentions of breathing tubes, mentions of hospitals, slight mention of throwing up, a few curse words, tried to be accurate, but probably inaccurate medical terminology and scenarios
pairings: wanda maximoff x fem!reader
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*not my gif*
“Nat?” Wanda asks. Her phone pressed against her cheek as she stirred dinner for the rest of the team. 
She could hear the sounds of beeping and mumbling from the other line. The ex-assassin clears her throat, “Wanda something happened on the mission,” her heart dropped into the pits of her stomach. “Y/N got injured…really bad, actually. Her injuries are so severe that Fury recommended we go straight to the hospital. We had to take her to hospitall. I think you should fly out here as soon as you can.” 
There was a pause of silence. Neither of the two girls really know what to say. Wanda’s mouth opened and closed like a fish as she tried to find words. Nat cleared her throat again, “You may want to hurry. Doc said she may only have twelve hours.” Natasha’s voice cracking rings in the witch’s ears. 
All of a sudden the phone felt heavy, like she was holding the weight of five elephants in the palm of her hand. The phone crashed onto the floor with a soft thump, catching the attention of Clint and Steve who were setting up the table for dinner. Their eyes land on the distressed girl, “Wanda? What happened?” Steve asked, stepping hesitantly closer to her. His blue eyes searching her green ones, trying to read what had just happened. 
The girl couldn’t form words though. Her throat felt tight as tears started to build like towers. Clint picked the phone from off the floor, hearing Nat’s voice speak muffled against the line, “Nat? What’s going on?” His confused expression slowly turns into an urgency as he looks at his Captain. He hangs up the phone quickly, “Steve get the quinjet ready, we need to go. Now.” 
Clint wrapped the younger Avenger into his arms, holding her tighter than ever before, “She’s going to be okay.” 
It was a simple mission, really, to stake out the Hydra infested warehouse, once it's empty, get in there and steal intel.  A mission you and Nat have done countless times. You should’ve known that it would end in disaster when you thought to yourself ‘Oh this is easy! I could be home for dinner!’ Whenever someone says that, it never ends well. 
The warehouse was set up in a series of buildings, so it was hard to tell if it was fully cleared. Maybe that’s how you should’ve known it wasn’t going to end well. But honestly, during the stakeout you were falling asleep at the wheel. Your best friend’s arm nudged your side with her elbow, “Usually you’re bouncing off the walls, annoying the crap out of me. What gives?” 
You rub your eyes, pinching at the bridge of your nose, “Wanda and I had this huge fight before I left,” you let out a soft sigh, crossing your arms over your cloth and spandex mashed suit.
Natasha’s eyebrows raised in surprise, “But you never leave each other on a sour note before a mission.” 
You nod, letting out a soft sigh, “I know hence why I could not get any sleep on the way over here.”  
“Are you guys okay?” 
“No, I don’t know. I hope so. It was a pretty rough one. So rough that we didn’t even say goodbye to one another before I left. ” 
She squeezes your shoulder, “Do you want to talk about it?” Which you just merely shook your head in response. It wasn’t something you wanted ingrained in your head as you were about to fight loads of Hydra agents, “Alright, well, let’s just hope you don’t have a web block when we’re in there. I know how you get when the two of you fight. Now c’mon let’s get in, so we can get home for dinner!” 
You throw on your mask, opening your arms up for the Russian, “C’mon little spider,” she rolls her eyes at you. Muttering under her breath about how your powers are literally ones of a spider before she clung onto you, as you swung the two of you onto the roof of the warehouse.
The warehouse was huge, as you and Nat snuck in through the air ducts. You and Nat glance at each other, already discussing earlier how you want to split up the search. She extends her hand out for the two of you to do your secret handshake, in your own way telling one another to be safe, before she splits in the opposite direction from you. 
Towards the back of the building, there was one of these hallways leading you into the next building over, so you quickly made your way through. You froze in your spot, your spidey senses tingling, and you could feel someone’s presence around you. Before you could dodge out of the way, the HYDRA agent launched himself at you, tackling you into the crates behind you, pain shooting through your spine. The shock of the attack paralyzed you for a second, before your spidey senses kicked in and you dodged the punch that was coming. You kicked the agent square in the chest, lifting yourself up in the process. 
From the corner of your eye you could see a bomb strapped onto one of the SHIELD agents who recently joined, pressing your finger to your ear piece, “Nat! There’s a bomb! They knew we were coming! You need to get out of here!” 
“There is no way I am leaving you!” She shouts, “Where in the warehouse are you? I’ll get to you!” 
A sharp pain shot through your body, as the HYDRA agent pulled a knife out your side. You let out a yelp in pain before you webbed him onto the wall, “Y/N! What was that noise?!” Nat yells. 
You shook your head even though she couldn’t see you, “Never mind that! Call Fury, tell him we need someone who can disarm this. There’s an agent strapped to it,” you rushed over to the panicked agent with his mouth covered in duct tape. Inspecting the wires and the time that read 4 hours, you didn’t notice the way he was thrashing about, like he was trying to warn you about something. 
Suddenly, a loud buzzing noise filled your ears, causing you to flinch back. The red numbers, quickly turning to 30 seconds. Your eyes flickered to the trapped HYDRA agent who had the explosive trigger in his hand and a smug smirk on his face, “Hail Hydra,” he repeated, resting his head against the wall as he accepted his fate. 
“Nat! You need to go now! Run! Please!” you frantically looked at the wires, trying to figure out how to disarm it. The SHIELD agent in front of you sobbing as he shook his head, looking at the time. 
“You need to go too, Y/L/N!” Nat screamed into your ear piece., “Please, Wanda will never forgive me if you blow up right now! I will never forgive you!” 
You pulled off the agent’s duct tape, “Hey! I need you to take a breath for me!” you rushed out, trying to get his attention, “Do you know how to stop this thing?” He shook his head frantically. 
20 seconds. 
“Alright, well I’m going to get this off of you and we’re going to get out of here together!” you quickly tried to untie the ropes that surrounded his wrists, mentally cursing yourself for not bringing a weapon other than your webs. Your side became more and more painful, but you needed to get both of you out of here. 
15 seconds.
You frantically start to rip off all the duct tape that strapped the bomb to his clothing, “C’mon, c’mon, c’mon!” you muttered to yourself over and over again.
“Y/N! I’m coming to you! Where are you?!” Nat’s insistent screaming in your ear piece only causes your heart to race more. You rip the bomb off of him and he exhales out a sigh of relief, as he stands up next to you, but immediately falls onto the ground. 
You didn’t even notice the way his legs are bruised and broken, most likely from all the torture he endured from HYDRA. You wrap his arm around your shoulders, lifting him up with all the strength you can. 
10 seconds.
In the corner of your eye, you notice how fast the clock was trying to tick down. The pressure of him leaning against your little wound caused you to hiss out in pain. You scramble towards the hallway, desperate to try and get out of this side of the warehouse. Your vision slowly became more blurry, yet the sight of your own blood staining your torn suit was so vivid. 
4 seconds. 
You hadn’t been able to get very far, even though it felt like you were miles away from the secluded corner. You had barely made it out of the room it was trapped in. It was as if a lightbulb went off in your head, and you stopped in your tracks. “What are you doing?!” your fellow agent yells at you, “Why are we stopping?!” 
“There’s no way we can escape the bomb in time, but I can try and limit the explosion,” you tell him, trying to explain as calmly as possible. 
You turn your bodies around, extending your wrists toward the bomb in the corner. You shoot your web…but nothing comes out. You flick your wrist again and again and again. Each time growing more frantic. 
“You’re joking!” you exclaimed. 
3 seconds.
“What?! What’s going on?!” the agent yelled.
You shook your head, “Forget that idea! We need to leave now!” 
The two of you turned back around and you tried to run towards the end of the hallway as fast as you could. Ignoring the burning pain in your side and the weight of his body against yours. But it was too late. 
It was the loudest thing you had ever heard. The echoing boom rang in your ears, as you collapsed onto the other side of the warehouse, as debris started falling all around you. Everything felt too bright as a hot stinging pain ripped through your whole body.  You tried to get up, but felt a sharp sting in your leg. A piece of rubble that was on fire rested on the top of your leg, too heavy to move it out. Your eyes fluttered open and closed, slowly becoming heavier and heavier. A thick liquid pooled from underneath you. Nat’s red hair came into your blurry view.
Nat let out a soft gasp as she noticed how part of your face was burnt, “Hey Y/N, come on keep your eyes open for me, okay? The ambulance and the fire department are here. They’re gonna get you out of here,” she whispered, brushing your hair out of your face. But her rare soft voice did the exact opposite as it made your eyes grow heavier and heavier. 
When the firemen got you out of there, you were hardly alive. Your breathing could barely be seen or felt, your throat and lungs burnt that you could barely inhale any air. Your heartbeat was irregular and often skipped. Your spandex suit was burned into your flesh and it was surprising that you could even be recognized by how severe some of your burns are. 
Honestly, it was a miracle that you were still alive. Something the paramedics and firemen could barely understand. 
Nat could barely look at you, she tried her hardest to stay strong, but an overwhelming sense of fear seeped into her bloodstream. While the paramedics struggled to keep you stable on the helicopter, Nat let tears fall onto her lap, looking out at the view. Only looking at you when a deafening beeping sound could be heard, right before you landed. 
Your heart stopped beating.
Wanda’s knee bounced up and down all throughout the flight in the quinjet. Natasha hasn’t been giving them updates, there wasn’t much to give after she called you. 
They managed to stabilize you, but it was all about if you were going to survive the night. Joining the Avengers came with loads of paperwork. One of them being, what would you want if you had extreme injuries. Basically a DNR form. You were indecisive, so you wrote out what you wanted. If something were to happen to you, you give the doctors 24 hours to do all they could, and if it didn’t work, well that’s when you call it quits. 
SHIELD actually follows it very well, like the agent you saved? He wanted them to do everything they could to keep him alive. Everything. He did not want them to stop trying. So, after the doctors managed to stabilize you, they tried to take you off the ventilator to see if you would breathe on your own, but you crashed. You couldn’t do it. That’s when the countdown began, if they couldn’t get you off and breathing by yourself in 12 hours, per your request you want them to pull it.
A muffled sob escaped Wanda’s lips as she thought more about it. In 12 hours, she could lose the love of her life and the last time she saw her ended poorly. 
Wanda takes the elevator up to the tower. Her breath smelling slightly of alcohol from her spontaneous night out with Vision. The two have been on mission after mission lately, so Vision thought it would be nice to have a break. She was going to go straight to her room, but she figured it would be best to get an Advil and water in her before she regretted the drinks in the morning. The elevator dinged and she stumbled through it and to the kitchen, where she found you. You were sitting in the darkness, the only light coming from the moon through the window sill. A couple plates of food sat in front of you as you sipped slowly on a glass of wine. 
“Love? What are you doing? It’s late,” Wanda asked, snaking her hands around your neck from behind. She flinched back as you stood up, looking at her with a hard glare that she has never been on the receiving end of, “What’s wrong? What happened?” 
“Last week, you promised that we would have a date night for my birthday. You and I have been so busy with missions and training, so when you didn’t show, I just assumed that you were running late with training. Then hours ticked by, and our teammates would come in and look at me with such sympathetic eyes because they knew how much this meant to me because that was all I would talk about for the last week. Peter even came by with a cake and sad eyes because he heard about what happened,” you ranted to her and Wanda looked to the ground in shame. “Yesterday was my birthday Wanda. Yet, you go out with Vision! Of all fucking people! You didn’t wish me a happy birthday, you didn’t kiss me, you didn’t see me all day! All because you were with Vision! And we all know how much you love his attention!”
The words fell from your mouth before you could even think about what you were saying, Wanda’s shame quickly turned to defensiveness as she stared at your tear stained cheeks, “I may have forgotten your birthday and I’m sorry, but is this really about forgetting your birthday or is this about Vision? It’s like you’re jealous or something!” 
“Yes, I’m jealous Wanda! And I have every right to be! You and Vision have some sort of connection because of a fucking stone implanted into his head!” You scream. 
She shook her head, “He’s my friend, Y/N! Am I not allowed to have friends?” 
“I never fucking said that you can’t have friends! Jesus Wanda do you hear yourself?” you bring your voice down to a softer tone, realizing that a screaming match isn’t gonna help fix this, “You forgot my birthday…the Wanda I fell in love with would have never done that. I don’t ask much of you. I just want to spend a couple days with my girlfriend and for her to remember my birthday. All I wanted was a kiss from her and for her to tell me that she loves me, yet you haven’t said that to me a lot recently. Look, I’m going on a mission with Nat in a couple hours. While I’m gone, I guess just think if you really want to be with me still.” 
And you walked away without another word.
Of course, Wanda loved you. It was just the fear of the unknown that has made her put a wall up between the two of you. Everything and everyone she has loved, she has lost. Her parents, Pietro, it was only a matter of time before she lost you too. She doesn’t know what she’d do if she loses you. 
Wanda bursts into the waiting room, met by several confused eyes from the staff and patients. Steve and Clint followed right behind her, the two of them more rational than she was. They ask for your room number and as soon as she hears the answer she sprints down the hallways and straight to your room. 
Natasha sat in the corner of the cold room, watching distantly, like she was off on another planet. She didn’t even notice the Sokovian bursting in. Wanda’s eyes flash to you, your frail body lying in bed. All the color was drained from your face and a burn lingered along your cheeks. She inspected you further, noticing the burns that lingered all over your body.  The beeping from the machines echoes in her ears as a wave of nausea overcomes her at the sight of a tube stuck in your throat. All she wants is to hold you, but she’s afraid that if she does you’ll crumble. 
She took a seat next to you carefully reaching for your hand. She wanted to tell you that she loved you, that she needed you, and that she was sorry, “Hey Wanda,” Nat finally came to her senses, noticing her teammate sitting next to you.
“I didn’t know it was this bad,” her voice cracked, as hot tears blurred her vision. 
“I’m sorry. I couldn’t-“ Nat took a deep breath, trying to compose herself. “I couldn’t find her in time. I was trying to find her, to help her save the other SHIELD agent, but before I could, the bomb went off and she…I’m so sorry Wanda. I should’ve protected her. I couldn’t protect her.”
Wanda reaches for her hand, squeezing it, “It’s okay, Nat. You couldn’t have known,” Clint and Steve finally burst into the room. Clint immediately goes over to console his best friend, while Wanda turns her attention back onto you.
The doctor knocks on the door, giving all of you sympathetic smiles, “Hello everyone. Agent Y/L/N is in very critical condition. The injuries she endured have taken an enormous toll on her mental and physical health. It’s an absolute miracle that we were able to stabilize her. However, the burns and the stab wound are the least of our worries. The smoke inhalation caused her vocal chords to swell which may cause some permanent damage, but we had to do a tracheotomy to help her breathe.”
Wanda’s heart stopped, the reality and severity finally catching up to her. All of the things she dreamed of doing with you. The life you wanted to share with her. Another wave of nausea hit her like a freight train, “And per Agent Y/L/N’s paperwork with SHIELD, later tonight we’re going to try and see if she could breathe on her own and if not, she has asked us to pull the plug. If there’s anyone who’s not here, who you guys think would love to see her, I suggest calling them now,” he clears his throat, trying to stay professional. “I recommend trying to talk to her, coma induced patients tend to be more responsive when they hear their loved ones.” 
With that, he leaves the room, a tense air filling the room once more. Steve clears his throat, ignoring the tears trying to swim in his ocean eyes, “I’m going to make some calls and ask if anyone would like to see Y/N. Tony will get them here as soon as possible.”
And just like that Avengers started swarming in like wildfire. Clint called Laura and brought the kids along with her, whenever Clint and Laura needed a date night you’d be there to help babysit the kids. So, to say you were an important part of the family was an understatement. 
Tony and Pepper showed up with Peter. Tony and Bruce tried to talk to the doctor as much as they could, asking a million questions about what they’ve tried and what they haven’t tried to help your condition. Thor and Valkyrie even showed up from Asgard, just in case this was the last time they’d see you. 
Wanda took a step back, allowing everyone who came to visit you to talk to you, to possibly say their goodbyes. She couldn’t bring herself to talk to you just yet. She watched as some people weren’t afraid to shed a tear, retelling some of their favorite memories with you. While others tried their best to stay strong, demanding you that you’d breathe on your own. 
She watched as your room piled up with flowers in the worst way possible. Peter even brings you a small stuffed spider he got at the zoo. Her breathing became more uneven as she watched a usually strong Yelena shed a few tears for her chosen sister, Kate and Natasha, even having to console the younger Russian. 
Wanda needed an out, she needed to get some air. Luckily, Bucky came around, “C’mon, let’s go for a walk. I think you need it.” The witch didn’t even hesitate as she just followed him through the door and out of the hospital. As soon as the cool air hit her face, she ran as quickly as she could to the nearby bush and started to empty whatever she had in her stomach. 
Wiping the corner of her mouth, she sat next to Bucky on a nearby bench. Neither of them said anything and honestly it's what Wanda really needed. All Bucky did was rest his hand on her shoulder, giving it a tight squeeze, before they sat and watched the cars zoom by. 
They didn’t know how much time had passed before someone cleared their throat behind them. Steve had a sympathetic smile on his face, “Wanda, it’s almost time doctor said. If you wanna say something to her, now is the time.” Wanda turned to Bucky and he merely nodded in encouragement. 
The Sokovian followed back to your room. Everyone must’ve gotten the message that Wanda was coming back, so they were all waiting in the waiting room when she walked in. She took the seat next to your bed, grasping your unusually cold hand. 
“Y/N…” she trails off her voice immediately cracking, “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry for everything. I should’ve remembered your birthday. If you wake up, I promise I’ll remember everything. I’ll remember your beautiful eyes looking into mine, like we have our own secret club. I’ll remember the way you turn up the music on the weekend when I’m trying to sleep in and the way you’d jump on the bed and dance to wake me up. I’ll remember the way you’d squeeze my hand three times whenever you realize how anxious I’m getting or to just tell me that you love me.” 
Her emerald eyes met the sea as tears filled them. She cupped your cold cheeks, smiling sadly, “I should’ve been honest with you and I should’ve just told you I was scared. I was scared to fall and lose you. But that does not beat how  petrified I feel right now, Y/N. I prayed, Y/N. I never pray, I prayed to a God I stopped believing in when my parents were killed. I’m not saying goodbye to you, just yet. I just need you to know that no one else could ever save me, like you did. Not Vision. Not anyone else. You. You saved me and I can’t do this on my own. So, breathe Y/N. Please. You’re my lifeline.”
Yet another knock interrupted her thoughts as the doctor walked in. He smiled sympathetically with Steve, Clint, and Natasha right behind him. “It’s time,” he walks over to your bedside, throwing on gloves as he gets ready for extubation, “Just to explain what we’re looking for, if she can breathe on her own her breathing will look like she’s just sleeping. If her oxygen levels are normal, it means she’s okay. On the other hand, if she isn’t breathing on her own, she’d be gasping for air, and her mouth will be opening and closing like a fish out of water. Her oxygen levels will also be very low.”
All four of them nod, Nat grasping on to Wanda’s free hand, squeezing it tightly. The doctor slowly starts pulling out the tube and Wanda squeezes your hand three times, muttering a quiet please under her breath. All of them hold their own breath, which is ironic. Each one of them watches your chest rise and fall in anticipation. 
For what felt like an eternity, the Sokovian felt a weak three squeezes come from your hand, causing her head to shoot up to look at your face. Your eyes flutter open as you stare into the eyes of the love of your life, “You made it,” she whispered under her breath and a tiny smile crossed your lips as you ran your thumb over the back of her hand. 
“Hi Y/N. It’s nice to finally meet you,” your doctor introduced himself. “We’re gonna recommend you can’t talk until directed to. We’re working on reducing the swelling in your vocal chords.”
You gesture for a pen and paper, your hands shaking slightly. He nodded, handing you a pen and a piece of paper before promising to check up on you later. In the scratchiest of handwriting, Wanda watched as you wrote a little note. A small gasp leaving her lips as you showed her, ‘You’re my lifeline too.’ 
Wanda rested her hand against your stomach as she cried happily into it. Your free hand that she wasn’t grasping reached for her head, running your fingers through her messy hair, in hopes to let her know that everything will be okay. 
“I love you,” Wanda whispered to you. 
And all you did was squeeze your hand three times.
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navia3000 · 4 months
Emergency Contact
Pairings: Max Verstappen x Reader
Warnings: Car accident, angst, bad medical situations (idk anything about internal bleeding, very dramatic, cringy ending
Inspired by the song Emergency Contact by Haley Joelle
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Max awoke to the loud ringing of his phone. He saw it was still dark out his window, so, confused, he rolled over to see who was calling. He couldn't recognize the number on the screen, so he put his phone back down and attempted to go back to sleep.
His phone rung yet again. Frustrated, he turned and answered the call. "Hello?" He asked, the frustration clear in his voice. Not even two hours ago, he had gotten home to his Monaco apartment after a long race weekend and just wanted to catch up on his much needed rest.
"Hello, is this Mr. Max Verstappen?" The lady on the other side of the phone asked; he could hear voices and what sounded like an intercom in the background.
"Yes, this is he."
"Sorry to call at this hour, sir, but Y/N L/N just arrived at our hospital, and you are her emergency contact. She's in very bad shape, do you think you can make it here?" His heart stopped. Y/N L/N is Max's ex-girlfriend, the love of his life. They had broken up almost two years ago, and hadn't spoken since. Their relationship ended on a bad note, and the pair were so heartbroken that neither of them gathered up the courage to see how the other was doing, so, hearing that he was still her emergency contact was a surprise.
"Yes, of course, I'll be right there." After the lady on the other end of the line gave him the hospital's address, he quickly got dressed and rushed out the door.
Speeding through the streets of Monaco, Max's head was racing with worries. How bad were her injuries? Was she going to make it? What happened?
Max would never openly admit it to anyone, but he never got over Y/N, not truly. Sure, he had seen other people and had moved on with his life, but in his eyes, she was the love of his life. The one. So, getting to the hospital and making sure you were okay was his top priority.
He got to the emergency room in 8 minutes. He rushed up to the front desk and gave his name to the receptionist. The older woman led him to a room down a series of hallways, and when they got to the door where his old lover was in, the lady turned and gave him a sad smile. He didn't even try to decipher what that look in the woman's eye was.
Once he opened the door to the room and saw all the machines and tubes, he gasped. Y/N lay on the bed, bruises and scrapes all over her arms and legs, and she had an oxygen mask attached to her face. Her eyes were closed.
He quickly made his way over to her bedside, and took ahold of her hand. He didn't know what to say, what to think. His heart broke seeing her laying on that bed, the heart monitor beeping slowly, the girl looking so lifeless. Tears welled up in his eyes. In that moment, all the memories of him and her came rushing back to him. Their first meeting, their first date, their first kiss, their first home together. All those firsts came rushing back to him.
He caught himself wishing those memories never ended. That their relationship had held strong and had lasted all these years. But, it didn't. And now, seeing her on what he assumed was her deathbed, he regrets everything.
A knock on the door brought him out of his thoughts, and he looked up to see a middle aged man in a white coat holding a clipboard. "May I come in?" The man asked.
Max nodded.
"You're Mr. Verstappen, I assume." Max nodded again. "And, what is your relationship to Mrs. Y/L?"
"We're-" his voice broke, "we're friends." All the doctor did was nod.
"Well, Mr. Verstappen, I'm afraid Mrs. Y/L is in critical condition. She's suffering from a serious concussion, and six broken ribs, one of which punctured her lung and is causing internal bleeding."
"Is she going to be ok?"
"We already performed surgery, and it is now a matter of waiting."
"Waiting for what?" Max was dreading the answer.
"Waiting to see if she will wake up."
"I'm sorry, sir. We're doing the best we can and now it is up to her and her body," when Max didn't answer, the doctor walked out of the room. Max's tears finally began to spill, he gripped the girl's hand harder. All his feelings overtook him and all he could do was cry. His mind was full of unsaid words, full of unlived moments that never happened between them. He thought of all the things he wishes he could say to her now.
It was a couple minutes after when he decided to text his friends. He couldn't go through all this alone.
Soon after, Carlos, Charles, Lando, and Pierre walked into Y/N's room, all with worried looks on their faces. As soon as Max saw them, he embraced them in a hug and cried. The other boys began crying as well, for both of their friends in the room.
They waited. Hours passed, nurses came in and out, and they waited. As 10 a.m. rolled around, Y/N still hadn't woken up, and the guy's hopes of her doing so were diminishing. Nobody said anything, the tension in the air was heavy on all of them. Max sat by Y/N, gripping her hand for dear life, willing her to wake up.
A high-pitched beeping shook the drivers from their thoughts. They immediately knew what it meant, their hearts dropping at the sound of Y/N's heart flatlining. Nurses and doctors came rushing in, all going to work to bring the girl back. A nurse grabbed Max, trying to pull him out of the room, but he was frozen. He stood, staring at his ex's body, doctors all around her.
He cried harder. He didn't realize until Carlos and Pierre came to hold him back that he was fighting to get to Y/N, his throat hurting from his yells. This couldn't be happening, not to them. He hadn't talked to Y/N in two years, and he still loved her. He needed her. He couldn't imagine a world were he knew that he was able to grow up and live happily while she stayed 24. The other drivers pushed him out of the room, and he fell to his knees, sobbing uncontrollably. It felt as if his whole world had collapsed, the ground disappearing beneath him.
What felt like an eternity later, the doctors came out. The men stood, anxious to hear what they had to say. "She's fine," at those words, they all let out the breaths they were holding.
"Can we see her?" Carlos asked. After approval from the doctors, they went back in. They watched as Max rushed to the girl and hugged her body. They could hear the man muttering "I love you" and "I'm sorry" over and over again. The men all exchanged looks and decided to leave the room to give Max space. They knew how much he was hurting.
"I'm so sorry," Max cried, "I miss you. You can't do this, you can't leave me. Wake up. Wake up so we can go back to how it was, please. Please, please, please." He didn't know how long he spent crying while clutching the girl's hand, but he became hyperaware of everything once he felt his hand being squeezed. His heart lept.
Looking up, he saw the girl's eyes on him, unshed tears swimming in the surface. "Hi," she spoke, her voice hoarse and shaky. At her words, he hugged her. He hugged her as hard as he could, trying to ground himself. "I forgive you," at first, he hadn't heard her speak, but he heard her the second time she said it. "It's ok." He pulled back and stared into her eyes, tears streaming down her face, "it's ok."
All he could say was, "I'm still your emergency contact?" And the sound that came after felt like he had finally woken up after sleepwalking for years. Her laugh brought him so much joy and comfort, her laugh brought him so much relief, that he couldn't help but kiss her.
A/N: I did not know how to end this lmao
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time-for-a-library · 11 months
the boston brute series drabble: home
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The Boston Brute Series Drabble: Home
Pairing: NHL!Chris Evans x Athletic Trainer!Reader (female character)
Summary: When you graduated from Northeastern University, you had your sights set on the West Coast. And then you were offered a position with the Boston Bruins Athletic Training Department. And then you met Chris. A 6′3″, ruggedly handsome hockey player dead set on making your life a living hell by pushing every button and getting on every nerve. Despite your obvious disdain for each other and the ‘No Fraternization’ clause in your employee contract, you’re drawn together in a passionate, fiery love affair that seems to burn everything in its wake.
Warnings:  Language, I think. Some fluff. Nothing too crazy! 
W/C: 892
A/N: If you follow my main, you know this past month has been hectic and just not really that awesome lol. I love and appreciate all of you for your patience and understanding and i’m seriously looking forward to working on part 14 soon! In the meantime, please enjoy this little drabble.
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. All players and scenarios are made up completely. This story does not reflect things that actually happen in the NHL or with its players. Additionally, I talk about Chris’s family in this fic. Again, work of fiction and is no reflection of his parents or grandparents in real life.
I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site. Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated ❤
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time-for-a-lullaby masterlist
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Chris stepped through the front door, smiling as he slid the shoes you’d haphazardly kicked off, to the side. The two of you were very different beings in more than one way. You tend to look on the brighter side of things while Chris tends to mope and dwell over the things he can’t control. He tends to be very neat and organized. You tend to be… not that. 
You lean towards something you’d self-titled as ‘messy organized’.  Because if it were ‘messy and unorganized’ how else would you be able to tell Chris that the tube of mascara you desperately need was under the left side of your bed? 
Messy. Organized. 
It was a hill you were going to die on and one Chris didn’t feel the need to argue about. 
But the more time you spent together, the less and less he minded. He almost welcomed the ‘mess’. 
Walking into his once empty apartment to 4 pairs of your shoes kicked around just waiting to be tripped over was something that brought a smile to his face because it meant that you were here. That he wasn’t walking into an empty apartment that just reminded him of the emptiness in his life. Being with you made him happy to come home. 
The first thing he noticed when he shut the door behind him was the bowl on the entry table. 
8 hours ago when he left his apartment, the bowl he tossed his keys into was white. But now, your keys sat inside a green bowl shaped like a plant leaf you had sitting on your windowsill. Chris thought you’d called it a monster? Something like that. He didn’t pay attention. 
He eyed it curiously, setting his keys down next to yours, then noticed the picture. 
A smile warmed his face as he picked up the framed picture of the two of you. Chris’s arm was draped around your shoulder as you snuggled into his side. You had a huge grin on your face while Chris looked down at you, a small smile playing on his lips. He was so in love with you. 
He placed the picture back down on the table, then rounded to corner to the living room, his smile growing wider. 
On his couch, there were 4 new throw pillows along with a small blanket draped over the arm. A candle sat on top of a new stack of books on his coffee table, the scent of magnolias and jasmine wafting through the air. 
Chris walked through the living room, glancing at several new picture frames on the end tables and leaning against the walls, each one housing a picture of you and Chris or Chris with his family or team. 
He wandered into the kitchen, taking note of the new decorative hand towels hanging from the oven door and he could all but hear you nagging at him when he’d eventually use one to dry his hands. 
Chris smiled, resting his hip against the fridge while you rummaged through his pantry. “Y/N…” He said your name softly, knowing that whether he whispered or screamed it, you were still going to jump. 
“Jesus!” You shot up, clutching your hands over your heart. “You scared the shit out of me!” 
He chuckled, crossing his arms over his chest. “Did you do some shopping today?” 
Your eyebrows shot up, a worried look passing over your expression. “Okay, I know that I probably shouldn’t have but I knew that if I asked you, you would’ve told me no, but–” 
“Baby, wait.” He held up a hand, pushing himself away from the fridge and closing the distance between you. Chris reached up, cupping your cheeks with his hands. “I’m not upset.” He smiled again as your features softened. “But you’re right. I would’ve told you no.” 
You rolled your eyes. “I know, that’s why I had Connor get you out of the house.” 
His mouth dropped open. “You’re kidding me? You had Connor involved with this?”
“Well, yeah. He’s the only one besides me who can get you to leave this place. And I needed you gone. Didn’t want you to foil my plans.” 
Chris smiled again, his arms dropping to his sides. “I only would’ve told you not to use your own money, princess. This place needed a little… Y/N thrown into it.” 
You rewarded him with a grin, your eyes lighting up when you realized that he liked the changes you made. “Really? You mean it?” 
His arms slid around your waist, pulling you to his chest. “I’ve lived here for a while and it wasn’t until today that it’s felt like home. Thank you.” 
Your arms flew around his neck, your lips crashing onto Chris’s as his arms tightened around you. 
In reality, Chris knew that it wasn’t the framed pictures or the decorative hand towel that made this place feel like home. 
It was the shoes by the door and the dirty dish left in the sink instead of placed in the dishwasher. It was the pile of clothes left in the bathroom right next to the hamper and the entire makeup collection from Sephora strewn about the bathroom counter. 
It was every little unintentional reminder that you left for him, letting him know that he wasn’t alone. 
It wasn’t the throw pillows and a pink candle. 
It was you.
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mochie85 · 5 months
I just read Her and ugh I love your writing! Would you think about writing Loki having a dream about Thanos kidnapping the reader/wife and/or their kid?
To Have and To Hold - Chapter 3
Series Masterlist Complete Masterlist
Summary: Things take a turn for the worst as you continue to make decisions that's best for you. Pairing: Loki x OFC/Reader Word Count: 2.5K Tags/Warnings: Lots of angst. There's a dream sequence where Thanos is basically threatening a child's life. Dividers by: @firefly-graphics
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“Darling…I’m sorry.” The first words Loki said to you. The only words he said when he came inside your hospital room. You took one look at him and you cried. You couldn’t keep the emotion in anymore.
You covered your face with your hands as salted tears seeped through your fingers. Loki couldn’t keep it in either. The sight of you broken and hurt on the hospital bed left him feeling helpless and despondent.
A strong sense of defeat and weakness at not being able to help you, or the child, in your time of need. The emotion was so strong. It crumpled up inside him, buckling his knees as he reached for you on your bed. He should’ve been there for you. He should’ve cared for you. Supported you. Instead, the last words you said to each other before you left were ones of judgment and fear.
“My darling girl. I’m s-so very sorry.” He cried into your joined hands. He held it close to his lips, weeping on his knees.
It went on for a while. The two of you were sniffling and teary. Sometimes a new wave of guilt and tears would wash over both of you and the crying and wailing would restart all over again. Neither of you said anything other than apologies or promises that everything will be ok.
At one point, you both had shared the gurney, and you were cradled into his arms – careful of all the tubes and needles that were still attached to you. His hands wandered your arms and your face. But he didn’t dare touch your stomach the entire night.
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Loki took care of you the best he could. He moved you to his room which had better views of the river and a larger en suite. A bullet wound through the chest was painful. You didn’t realize all the movements that relied on your pectoral muscles. Moving your arms. Turning to your side. Stretching your back. It was all an ordeal.
It wasn’t long before news of your loss traveled throughout the compound. It was one thing to find out that you were dating the god of mischief but then to find out you were pregnant with his baby, and then lose it while on a mission. The gossip mills wouldn’t stop churning.
The most awful rumors circulated like you were all back in high school and that somehow the knowledge of your life was currency for higher status within the gossiping ranks.
“She should’ve never been with him, to begin with.” “I bet you she only wanted to trap him.” “I bet you he’s the one that pulled the trigger.” “Guys, can’t you see they lost a baby? Give them a break!” “She should’ve never gone on that mission knowing what she did!”
And although they were quiet and nice to your face. Inside they were watching like a hawk. Mentally taking notes of your expressions or actions. Anything to report back to the gaggling circle of chicken heads.
You had to stop Loki on numerous occasions from getting into an altercation with some of the other agents. The more daring ones gossiping right in front of the both of you.
Both Steve and Tony had to set new guidelines on romantic involvement within the team. As well as castigate those who spoke ill on your behalf.
Luckily, it was easy for the team to rally behind you and Loki. Once they got over the initial shock, everyone knew that you two were good for each other and that you two were stronger together and will help each other through the loss.
The loss. It was so easy to forget your lie. It was so easy to forget that you still carried the baby within you. As long as you didn’t outright lie to Loki, he wouldn’t suspect any falsehoods within you.
You couldn’t keep up the charade for long. Soon, morning sickness had set upon you. Hard. You couldn’t even get up some mornings it felt like the whole world was spinning. Luckily you could blame it on your injury.
You couldn’t, however, blame your ever-growing belly on your injury. You needed a plan. A way out.
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Loki was called away on a brief mission. Two days tops. Some local arms dealer was making a sale and was finally getting apprehended.
Loki had decided to go only because he saw you getting better. You were able to lift your arms without wincing in pain. The nausea was still there, but you couldn’t help it with all the medication you’d been taking.
So, he agreed to this quick mission. As soon as he returned, he planned to talk to you about what happened. Or failed to happen. A family.
He loved you. He knew that. He was hoping that you still loved him too. You might not have gotten the family now but going through this ordeal made him realize that he did want one. And he wanted it with you.
Ever since you were discharged into his care, Loki was operating on automatic. He had two rules for himself and was trudging through existence, barely living.
First rule: Always watch out for Violet. To take care of you. Be whatever you need. Whether that be a masseuse, a barista, or your protector from those nasty rumor-mongering agents working in the lower levels. He would always be there for you. To take care of you in your injured state.
Second rule: Give her space. He knew that being there for you, didn’t necessarily mean smothering you. He wanted you to be able to find yourself in this trying time and not be defined as his girlfriend or the mother of his lost child. He wanted you to be you. The person he fell in love with all those months ago.
Being away on this mission granted both of you time away from each other. To assess what you wanted from each other and continue with your lives.
“Hello.” You answered on your phone.
“Dearest.” He said low into the other end of the phone.
“Hey, Loki.”
“How are you feeling?”
“I’m better. Thank you.” You answered. Loki still felt your hesitation. He felt a chasm forming between the two of you.
“That’s good news. I’m glad you’re feeling better. Listen, darling, I was hoping to speak with you about something when I get back tomorrow.”
“Sure, Loki.” His name on your lips would normally send him in a downward spiral of ecstasy and longing. As of late, he’d long for any type of endearment. A simple ‘hun’ or ‘babe’ that you used to call him.
“All right then, I just wanted to check on you and see how you were doing.”
“I’m doing great. Thank you.” You lied. And Loki could hear it in your voice. You were not fine. He could sense it. He hung up the phone after a brief goodbye feeling trouble in his heart. This talk was going to be the end of your relationship. He could feel it. Something bad was on the horizon and he wouldn’t know how to cope.
Would there be any way to convince you otherwise? Convince you to stay in this relationship. He loves you. So very much. But is he selfless enough to let you go?
Loki was on one knee, looking down at the ground. He tried not to draw attention to himself as the Mad Titan walked in between his children. “Oh, don’t look so sad, Odinson. You will get your chance to prove yourself to me.” Loki froze. He did not want to look up. To see the death stare of Thanos looming over him. “We will need a guide after all. You are experienced in all things Midgardian. Are you not?” Thanos asked him. Loki nodded his head once, still unable to look him in the eye. “Excellent. We wouldn’t want your wife to be robbed of a husband and your child to be left orphaned, now. Would we?” Thanos asked in a threatening tenor. Loki looked up with horror carved onto his face. He saw Ebony Maw holding you with his telepathic power to restrain you and keep you quiet. While Midnight Proxima held a child in her arms, cradling the babe with recklessness. “I sense great power within this one, Odinson,” Thanos said waving his hand over the tiny babe. Their head- like a small bead under the Titan’s palm. “I sense a new fledgling in the Black Order.” “NOOO!” Loki yelled. His fear and anger pushed him up onto his feet as he pointed his dagger toward Thanos’ throat. Ebony Maw saw to stop Loki from his advances, leaving you unguarded and falling to the ground. “Loki!” You cried as Thanos picked you up by your neck. Your feet dangling beneath you. With his other hand, Thanos picked up your tiny babe from Proxima. “Choose, wisely. For your impudence, you can only keep one.” Loki’s eyes went wild. His breathing got rough and labored as he tried to move his frozen hand holding the dagger. Trying to inch it closer to Thanos’ throat. You shook your head as sobs wracked your heaving form. Your neck- caged in the firm grasp of the monster. “Loki. Loki, please. L-look at me. Look at me.” You whispered with your last breath. His eyes traveled to yours. They were red from crying, but now red from the ever-tightening grasp of the brute before him. “I love you, Loki.” You whispered. “Keep them safe.” “No. No. No!” Loki continued as he heard the snap of your neck.
Loki sat up from his horrible nightmare. The sheets surrounding him were drenched in the cold sweat that overtook his body. He reached for his phone ready to call you but looking at the current time, momentarily paused. You would be asleep by now and he did not want to trouble you any further.
This nightmare was by far, one of the worst he’s ever experienced. It was almost as clear and vivid as the waking world he was in now.
It troubled him wholly.
Amid the sorrow and fear, the only good that came out of that dream, a silver lining if you will, was that you both still had your baby. Loki was heartbroken that he never got a chance to see his child. To see whether they had your eyes or his lips.
If what Strange theorized was true about dreams and multiverse realities. Then somewhere out there…Oh, Norns.
It was like his other self was calling out to him, pleading for assistance. As if your other self was calling out to him, to remind him that you loved him.
He had to see you. Had to hold you in his arms and assure himself that you were there.
He got up and went straight to Rogers, time be damned. He needed to see you and no one was gonna stop him.
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*~*Earlier that night*~*
You hung up the phone with Loki. Your heart felt like sharp vines were squeezing it. Winding tighter and tighter as the thorns bled your weak heart. You hated lying to Loki. You hated being in this complex. You hated the people. You hated the gossip. You hated yourself!
“Heimdall, I know you can see me.” You whispered out into the empty bedroom. “I know that you are powerful. And honest. And vigilant.”
“Flattery will get you nowhere with me young one.” He responded. As if you were transported, your surroundings changed to that of the gilded temple where he presides. “But I honor your sincerity and effort. What can I do for you?” You stood there not knowing how to ask or where to start.
“Have you…”
“Yes. I have seen all. I know all.” He says as his eyes dart down briefly to your abdomen.
“Does Odin know?”
“No, he does not. He has not asked. He has no inkling of what has transpired. Only that you are a significant part of his son’s life.” You nodded at Heimdall’s information. “Else, you would have been whisked away to the halls of Valaskjalf, don’t you agree?”
“Thank you for your discretion.”
“You did not come here to thank me for my silence. What is it that you wish to ask of me?”
“Shouldn’t you know already? You are the god of foresight.”
“I will have you ask, just the same.” He said patiently. You fidgeted just for a little while longer. The last month cramming through your mind like a fast-forward movie. “I can see why he loves you. You are strong-willed. And guileful, considering your plan so far.”
“I need safe passage. I need to hide from Loki.”
“Because he cannot know I still have this child.”
“Why not?”
“If he found out, then Odin will find out and the child will be taken from us.”
“Do you not trust your prince to defend you?”
“Why not?”
“Why the inquisition?”
“Because I see things little one. I can see the past. The present. And the future. But what I cannot see is your reasoning. Why do you think your prince can not defend you?”
“BECAUSE I’M NOT WORTH IT, OKAY!? You happy?!” you shouted back at him. “I asked him to keep our relationship a secret because I knew he didn’t want to tie himself down with someone like me. Those nosy gossipmongers proved that when they found out about us and just started circling like hungry vultures. Did you see the toll it took on him? Having to defend me constantly from them.
“When he found out I was pregnant? He didn’t want anything to do with me anymore. The only reason why he’s with me now is out of guilt and duty. When he comes home tomorrow he would undoubtedly give me the ‘talk’ and he would break off all ties with me. So I’m giving him what he wants.” You stood there looking down to Heimdall’s feet, unable to look him in his golden eyes. Tears welled up in your eyes at what you had just confessed, not only to Heimdall but, to yourself.
“Yes. You two are a lot alike.” Heimdall said after a brief pause. “Gather your things. Small belongings. Call upon me when you’re ready. I will take you where you want to go.” He agreed.
“And you won’t tell him? Loki? You’ll keep it a secret?”
“It is considered treason to lie outright to a member of the royal family. Even more ludicrous to lie to the god of mischief.” He said matter-of-factly. You looked ashamed at having asked him to do something so heinous. “But I will shield you as much as I can.”
In a blink of an eye, you were back in your shared bedroom. Your heart beat fast as you moved about, gathering your things in a small duffel bag.
You looked around his room and noticed some books in the corner. Parenting and pregnancy books long forgotten and shoved to the side to collect cobwebs. You grabbed the topmost book thinking it might be helpful to get some info for yourself, now that Bruce will not be on hand to help you. After grabbing items from your old room, you called on Heimdall again and he transported you out of the compound.
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greycaelum · 1 year
Can you do ‘milestones’ but with Saika? 🥺 You are feeding me with Dad!Saturo and I love it, thank you! 💗
Jujutsu Kaisen: Gojo Satoru X Reader
(Kaleidoscope Series || Clouds and Mochi Chapters ||)
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[Fluff and slight angst as your family welcome your Little Treasure]
[Notes and Warning: WC: 8k, fluff, angst if you squint, postpartum blues, slight argument, naughty kids, Tokyo 1st & 2nd year babysitters]
["Thank you for the 800 followers guys. I always wish you enjoy your visits and strolls to my small corner." —Grey,]
Kouki's Milestones
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1st Month: Ruby
—Broken-hearted, you can only stare at the Little Treasure at the glass window of the NICU while she's sleeping in her incubator with a feeding tube attached to her. You're trying to convince yourself that it's okay, and she's fine with all the nurses taking care of her when she's this delicate and all but the gnawing emptiness doesn't leave you.
You stare at the garden beside Satoru's chambers, the untouched tea by your side table turned cold. You were released after a week since you gave birth but Saika can't come home with you yet. The doctors advised you and Satoru to let her stay for observation in the NICU.
With a heavy heart, you went home with Satoru and Kouki. From time to time the nurses would send you videos of her, sleeping or feeding which leaves you torn apart from the happiness that she's doing okay and sorrow that you were supposed to be there for her
It doesn't help that you feel like a disaster. The first days you went back from the hospital you would spend hours in front of the mirror staring at how messed up you see yourself, disheveled hair, swollen and ugly to your eyes. You would try to practice a smile but only to end up crying yourself as you crouch on the floor feeling stupid and shitty.
"Baby?" Satoru calls out and opens the door to see you wallowing in tears. "What's wrong Honey? Are you in pain?!" He immediately kneels to hold your cheeks. You stare at his bright blue eyes filled with worry and it only sparked sadness and a fresh batch of tears to flow out of your eyes.
"S-Satoru," you cried. "What should I do? If-feel so useless." You gasped between sobs, the valve to your tears refusing to stop and kept streaming down your cheeks until all you could see is a blur.
Satoru pulled your weary body and set you above his lap, his hand buried your head on the crook of his neck hushing your cries. His hand rubs your back in silence, he didn't dismiss your words but the gentle touch of his large hand and strong arms cradled you tightly like a blanket of assurance as he kiss your temples.
The more you sink in his hold the more you cried and cried pouring out your frustrations and the bottled anxiety you've been hiding since he got sealed and all the chaos that followed your family. Shoulders shaking and voice raspy, your husband's shirt is drenched in your pent-up tears as Satoru sits with his back against the cabinet. His firm arms cradle you like a precious baby on top of his lap in the small space of the bathroom whispering sweet nothings, his thumb continuously wiping the streaming tears.
"I-I'm so confused I don't know what's wrong with m-me. What am I supposed to f-feel? What should I do?" You pleaded, clutching his shirt.
What's so different between this and you're first pregnancy with Kouki? You thought you got things under control but you didn't expect it would take a turn to your postpartum to hit hard like this. You barely saw Kouki for days, wary about your mood around the little mochi. Satoru told you during the day Kouki stays with your parents. Yuta and several of his trusted men are guarding Kouki in the distance.
"Let's start with eating your meals properly. We'll be very busy when Saika comes home... Mommy and Daddy need to take care of each other before our munchkin comes home." Satoru pressed another kiss on your head, feeling your sobs turning to small whimpers and soon to soft breathing. Time passed in the small corner and you let him give you a half bath and he carried you to the bed.
Your head lay on Satoru's bare chest, legs tangle under the blanket while he continued to stroke your head lulling you to a sense of nostalgia and hues of pink where comfort filled in your tired and mushy mind.
"So lately..." Satoru trailed down as his fingers played with the hem of your shirt.
You look down and realized how damp your chest has been... The scent of almond cream is wafting in the room.
"It hurts so much," you bit your lips in pain.
"Oh... do they? Mind if I help?"
2nd Month: Peridot
—You had to go back to the hospital. And on the day of your release, a visitor came. Kouki carrying a big bag with a rainbow horn poking out the bag giddily ran to your lap. Behind Kikufuku is Satoru holding a snow-white bundle in his long arms with a wide smile as he walks to your bedside and gently laid the calm baby, looking around and reaching her mittened hands.
"Is that my baby sister?" Kouki blinks, jumping up and down asking Satoru to put him on the bed beside you.
"Kouki onii-chan this is Saika, she's your cute baby sister." You chuckled seeing Kouki curiously pushing his face close to Saika's head and nod in satisfaction, he then turned to you with a wide smile.
"Saika, this is Kouki onii-chan, isn't he handsome?" you held Saika's small wrist and wave them to Kouki.
"She smells like milk," he grinned and lean over to rub his nose on Saika's cheeks. "Can I hold her?"
"Of course," you handed Saika to Satoru first and opened your arms for Kouki to lean in. "You have to hold her as gentle and firm because she's fragile," you positioned his hand and Satoru carefully handed Saika on Kouki's waiting arms with your arms supporting underneath his hold.
"We have to be as gentle as possible, oh look she likes you," you cooed as Saika yawned in Kouki's arms. Kissing your son's forehead you felt a flash click, Satoru holding his phone and grinning on the foot of the bed.
"Mama, we have the same hair like Papa," Kouki rubs his nose on the rosy cheek of his sister, both of them giggling to each other.
"Do you like Saika?" Satoru asks removing his shoes and joining the three of you in the bed. He leans down to kiss your lips and rub his son's head.
"Love her!" Kouki nods and gasps. "Papa my present!"
Saika erupted into small sobs at the sudden loudness. Kouki quickly whips his head to you in worry, but you shrug, wanting to see how he'll handle the situation.
"Can you try calming her down?" Satoru asks, also wanting to see what big brother will do.
"I'm sorry, it's okay," Kouki's forefinger softly rubs circles on the tip of his sister's nose trailing to her cheeks continuously until her sobs subsided and close her eyes.
Your hand covered your mouth and shakily laughed.
"Oh my goodness, how did you stop her from crying?"
"I like it when Mama rubs my face so I just tried it if Saika also wants it."
"You did great sweetheart, are you happy you stopped Saika from crying?"
Kouki nodded and lean down to smell Saika again and giggled.
—When you thought you were ready to bring Saika home... keyword, thought. You have to be extra careful with her...
—You also moved back to your newly renovated house, much larger and furnished.
All that's running in your head is that Saika needs you. You barely sleep and a little rustle keeps you awake.
Satoru barely puts her down, nor can you... She was too precious and fragile and you're afraid she might break with one wrong uncalculated force... Until you saw Kouki looking from afar with a lonely look on what used to be a smiling face.
How long was it since you held him to sleep?
"Sweetheart, can Mama and Papa sleep with you?"
3rd Month: Sapphire
—Saika latches on you a lot. Her cheeks got chubbier, catching up to the weight of a normally delivered baby and she starts babbling.
—You also start to find the balance your family needs. Satoru often reminds you to take things slow. Just as you hold him close in nights of comfort when you see him lost in thoughts.
You just finished taking a short breakfast after a stroll with Kouki, the two of you went to the park, bought a Baumkuchen along the way home. When you two came home Satoru and Saika are still asleep.
You went to kiss Satoru good morning. Brushing the eye bags that have grown prominent from the sleepless nights. You would notice him staring at Saika and Kouki for a long time with sad eyes.
"Mmmm, sorry I fell asleep I'll handle her," Satoru scrambles awake shooting up straight, disoriented and sleepy. His head roamed around only to find the bassinet beside him empty. As if cold water poured all over him he looked at you with wide eyes.
"Shhh, it's okay she's with Kouki in the living room. You need rest Love," you brush his pale cheeks. "Please... You barely sleep," eyes softening Satoru bit his lips and let out a shaky breath. Grabbing your palm he kisses your wrist and pushes it to the back of his neck, groaning in satisfaction as you rub his nape and kiss his forehead. "Sleep, I'll bring our brunch up later."
Satoru fell down the bed and you help him get tucked in, closing the thick windows and kissing his forehead once more before softly closing the door.
"How're my two babies?" You smiled seeing Kouki gently rocking the cradle while watching over Saika.
"Mama, shhhh," Kouki puts his forefinger above his nose and shush you.
"Papa is still asleep," you sat on the carpet as Kouki continues to gently rock Saika to sleep.
Later when you searched for your Little Mochi with brunch at hand you found him curled up by Satoru's side, peacefully sleeping and cuddling each other. After setting the tray of breakfast beside the coffee table you left in silence, not wanting to wake up your boys.
Back at the living room, you poke the chubby cheeks your daughter is putting on while you feed her. Her blue eyes would drowsily blink trying to stay awake while reaching out her small hand to hold your thumb as she latches.
"You sure drink lots of milk huh? Don't you sweetie?" Cooing and rocking her as you settle in the swing chair, Saika made grunting sounds while blinking and rubbing her thumb against yours. Humming a soft lullaby you gently push your feet against the floor and the swing gently moves side to side lulling her. Snug and warm in your arms the Little Treasure fell asleep satisfied and well-fed.
4th Month: Pink Tourmaline
—Kouki and Saika understand each other, mainly Kouki talking while the Little Treasure listens.
"There was once a Little Prince who lived by himself in a small asteroid called B—612. He believed that he should take care of his planet. So he always cleaned his three volcanoes and cut the baobab trees' roots that secretly grew underground and cold split the planet into pieces," Kouki flips the next page doing his morning storytelling with Saika in her nursery room while you spy from the baby monitor in your bedroom.
"One day a seed mysteriously blossomed and turned into a flower. You're so beautiful! He said. I'm going to water and protect you with this glass globe at night! The Little Prince decided to call her Rose." Kouki peers over Saika who's awake and wiggling around but remained silent as if waiting for more.
Kouki continued his storytelling. This has become a habit that whenever Kouki wakes up first in the morning he would go to his little sister's room holding his favorite book and read aloud until you or Satoru calls for breakfast or Saika cries for you or Satoru.
"You want milk?"
In the kitchen, you and Satoru listen to the two kids babble at each other. Occasional high-pitched squeals from Saika and Kouki cooing her down gently.
Saika would babble a lot harder when her brother talks with her and make funny faces, claps and giggles would fill the house from the two munchkins and from time to time cries of hunger or playing too hard.
"You like onii-chan huh?" Satoru smiles at Saika looking around the room after Kouki left to buy some ice cream with you.
"Ahkuuu~" Saika looks at her Papa with wide eyes and to the door.
"They're gonna be back, how about we fix your hair? Papa will give you a ribbon." Satoru kisses the crown of thin white hair and heaves Saika to her cute room where he puts her before the dresser and they play with colorful hair clips and scrunchies.
"!" Saika grabs her father's hair, harshly tugging on it.
"Ouchie, ouchie!" Satoru exaggeratedly looks in pain but felt something drop on his head. When he looks at the mirror he found the identical pink ribbon on his daughter's head, and the other pair clipped on his hair too.
"So smart My Little Treasure, this is color, pi-nk. Can you say pi-nk?" Satoru chuckles, admiring the pretty hairdo his princess made for him.
"Ahmuuu!" Saika nods.
"Yeah? I said that too," Satoru smiled and kissed his daughter's head, showing her more pretty ribbons and glittering pins.
5th Month: Topaz
—The four of you start playing gentle games and short strolls outside to get that Vitamin D.
"Come back before 6:45," you reminded as Kouki kiss you goodbye followed by Satoru pushing the stroller out of the door with Saika laying inside.
A morning stroll has become a routine, especially for your father-son duo. It's their ritual during weekends before Satoru do some light training on Kouki. There are times that you need extra time and need a lazy morning while preparing for breakfast, your boys would bring Saika in their morning run.
"Mama. Mama," Kouki came running to you.
"We saw a cat just like Saika!"
"W-what?" You laughed in confusion at your son's words. You served the carrot juice you're making at the breakfast table.
"We got a picture together." Satoru emerged from the corner of the door and showed you his phone, the three of them posing with a white fluffy cat of blue eyes.
Saika made a yipping sound on her walker, also rushing to join you three.
"Mama, Saika looks like a cat," Kouki looks at you with wide eyes and back to the phone.
"What?" You held on the corner of the counter and laughed, even Satoru squatted and intently stare at Saika's face.
"Kikufuku can you give me a glass of juice?"
Kouki promptly extended the tall glass to his father and Satoru dip his finger in, then brush it across his daughter's chubby white cheeks.
"Satoru!" You gasp and watch your husband paint your daughter's face orange whiskers.
"Ahkuu!" Saika flails around reaching for Kouki while Satoru grins, making way and presenting you Saika.
"Ta-dah! Your homemade Cat especially topped with carrot juice!" Satoru bowed and made a gesture for his son to clap-clap.
You closed your eyes and shake your head at Saika innocently staring at you with long orange whiskers on her cheeks. On the side, is her Father looking pretty smug and even high-fived Kouki for their bright idea.
"What have you done?"
Saika however drags her cute palms on her face and stares at the strange orangeness on her hand and bursts out crying.
"That was a joke! Awww, my poor Cat was afraid, it's okay look it's just a juice!"
"Saika look, nii-chan will drink the same juice!"
You ignored your boys freaking out to make her stop crying and continued setting the breakfast table.
6th Month: Zircon
—Your in-laws called to ask if they can visit you. Satoru turned that down. But you told them you can do a video call instead. Your Mother-in-Law was all fawning and asking you her sizes so she can send her baby stuff. Your Father-in-Law grunts an approval after seeing the beautiful blue eyes of Saika.
—Your parents (if you have a good relationship with them)/friends ask if they could also visit or meet your babies. Satoru reluctantly agrees, on condition that you'll have guards follow you hidden in the crowd and Satoru also being nearby.
—Saika eats her solid but still prefers to latch on you.
"Take care on your training, tell Papa when you can't do it, okay?" you reminded Kouki while carrying Saika in your arms. "Don't bite—"
"Don't bite what you can't chew," Kouki finished and grinned at you, a grin so identical to his father. Your heart fluttered bittersweetly how fast your Little Mochi is growing when it seems like yesterday he was just waddling in his diapers and pacifier. Pouting you opened your arms and Kouki immediately hugs you, promising to buy Yakult for you later.
"We'll be back in an hour or two," Satoru held your chin and kissed you gently, you smiled between your kisses, pulling away but Satoru begs to disagree chasing after your lips pulling your nape back and deepening the titillating kiss, nibbling and licking your lower lips, eliciting a sweet moan from you. He softly parted away and smirked at you looking at him with dreamy eyes and swollen rose lips. "We'll finish that later." He kisses your lips one last time and pinches Saika's cheeks then stuff Kouki in his arms, dashing away.
"Your Papa doesn't grow," you look at Saika who also stared at you with innocent eyes.
You gave her flower shapes carrot but she didn't touch it. She only drank her milk.
"Well, how about we make puree sweetie?" You kissed her cheeks and put her in the baby strap while you prepare ingredients. You held her hand and you both made it, putting the ingredients and pushing the button of the blender.
"Ahm, ahm" Saika babbled pointing to her bowl.
"Saika wants to ahm, ahm now?" Cooing the Little Treasure you reach for her bowl.
"Can Mama also have one?" You tasted the puree in front of her and made an "Mmmmm!" sound. "Can you also try?" You swipe the tip of your finger and spread it to her lips letting her have a small taste before tasting another from the spoon in front of her and making another nice sound.
"Muumuu," Saika leans over and you spread one fingerful of the puree on her lips and watch her lick it like a kitten. Unable to resist you ran to get the camera and film her dip her fingers too and messily feed herself.
7th Month: Garnet
—Sai got her first two front teeth!
—Satoru and Kouki is her biggest coach in balancing and walking by herself.
"C'mon Cat, stand up we're going to get ichigo," Satoru made an up-up gesture beckoning Saika who is sitting on her Tottie plushie sucking on her cold pacifier. "C'mon, Papa's gonna make you a strawberry smoothie after."
"Ahm," Saika removed her pacifier and opened her arms, "Ahm, ahm," she babbled waiting for Satoru to pick her up.
"No, no, we walk. Wa—lk..." Satoru slip his hand under her small arms and led her. "We step right, we step left," Satoru hummed backing slowly and letting Saika follow his lead.
"Da" Saika's heavy footsteps padded on the floor, faltering for some steps but her Papa keeps supported. "Da, da," she babbled with every step she takes. Satoru grins, he would've loved to film this if he has an extra hand.
"Cat can you say Pa—pa? Say Pa—pa."
"Pa!" Saika added, giddily stomping her feet to walk faster while Papa holds her arms to steady her balance.
Satoru's curled, biting her lips in the victory of seeing the finish line. He's more than ready for his name to be his Little Treasure's first word.
"Another more Pa. Who's your favorite? Say Pa—pa."
Saika ignored him and look at the shoe rack. "Da!" She grabs her shoes and plops them on the floor then looks at her father with eyes screaming hurry up, "Da."
Satoru sighed and gathered her shoes, fitting them in her adorable socked feet. "You're really a temperamental cat aren't you?" Satoru chuckled, patting Saika's back cooing her while they walk to the nearest grocery.
When you went home after another failed haircut with Kouki your father-daughter is nowhere found in the house. When they went back Satoru is already carrying a heavy bag of groceries and the other arm carrying Saika.
"Welcome home!" Kouki runs and jumps up and down asking for Saika.
"We're home, I got ice cream Kikufuku," Satoru lets down Saika, reminding Kouki to hold her carefully.
Kou bends down and Sai squeals in fits of giggles, showing her two cute front teeth, and fling her pudgy body on her brother's back as Kouki positioned his hands behind her knees and carries his little sister in piggyback to the living room
"How was grocery?" You tiptoed and kissed Satoru welcome home. "Did you get eggs Love?" Leaning down you pick up the other bag and walk to the kitchen.
"Yeah, I also got you bread crumbs for tempura tonight. Hon listens to this, Saika called me 'Pa' earlier!" Satoru bragged and helped you put the groceries away.
"What? Did you get it on film?" You smiled. Saika often baby talks but hasn't formed her first coherent word yet.
"Nah, I was holding her, but it's greater if we see her say the first word together," Satoru shook his head and stand behind you. His arms wrap around your waist and drop a gentle kiss on your nape—a sigh of satisfaction from his lips and buried his face further in your hair.
8th Month: Amethyst
—Saika loves taking a bath.
"Didn't you just wipe Saika? Why are you guys taking a bath again?" You frowned at Satoru and Kouki.
"But she likes the water. Don't you Cat?" Satoru blinks up to you while holding Saika in her neck float.
"Da!" Saika giggled and kicked on the water thrashing her arms on the water.
"Love, she can't take a bath twice or thrice a day, her skin will dry out easily," you sighed and walk to the edge of the large jacuzzi. You sit beside and watch Kouki swim around chasing Saika like a shark.
"How about you join us instead? I'll make sure to apply generous oil on her later," Satoru whips his hand and splash splatters of water to your face. Irk mark formed on your temples as the water seep into your clothes. He laughed and splash you, even more, drenching you completely.
"You jerk," hissing you grabbed the shower nozzle and flashed it to his face.
"Me too!"
Kouki dived to shield his father from the spraying water and laughed hard.
"Seriously," you sighed and shut the spray off, moving to the nearby closet to get change in a bathing suit and join in your husband and kids.
Satoru's arms resting on the edge of the tub, reach for you and warp from behind, pinching your hips and waist. Playing with his recent obsession... Your tummy.
"I'm drooling seeing you chubby and plump..." He whispers to your nape. Hot breaths fanned your neck followed by kitten licks from your hairline down to the trace of your spine.
"'Toru the kids!" you gasp, gripping on his arm keeping you steady above his thighs.
"You're so beautiful and full to my touch and it's driving my wits crazy," he groans placing you just above his lap.
—Satoru and Kouki's talkativeness has fully rubbed off on Saika.
—She likes sharing her food too.
"I'm full," Kouki shakes his head, evading his lips from Saika's hand offering a slice of banana.
"Ahkuuu ahm ahm," Saika insisted.
"Sai, we don't force anyone when they don't want it." You hummed and poke her cheeks. "Can Mama have it instead?" You pointed to yourself and opened your mouth.
"Mama!" Saika smiled and stuffed the banana to your lips.
Your covered your mouth and breathe in shakily. The room fell into a momentarily silence aside from Saika's babbles, the three of you froze and look at each other with wide eyes.
"Did you hear that? She said, Mama!" Satoru sets his spoon down and gasps happily. "Little Treasure just said her first full word!"
"Ahkuuu," however Saika ignored you and Satoru looking back at her brother and held another banana slice for him. "Ahkuuuu!"
Kouki helplessly shakes his head and opens his mouth, accepting the banana.
"It's onii-chan Cat." Kouki pinches Saika's pudgy cheeks.
9th Month: Aquamarine
—She starts getting several words right.
—Saika can also stand on her own now. And someone comes over to babysit the kids~
"Are you sure about this Megumi?"
For the nth time, you asked the boy.
"Have a nice time with Gojo-sensei, Y/n-san. The others will come over later so don't worry about us."
"Yeah, yeah, but if you need us you can always ca—"
"C'mon Hon, Megumi-chan is a responsible big brother, he's raised by yours truly!" Satoru adjusts his backpack and annoyingly pats Megumi's spiky hair.
You rolled your eyes at him and peek at Kouki and Saika busy playing with the bunny Megumi has summoned. It's the very first time you and Satoru are gonna go on a small 'us time' leaving the kids for a day or two.
"Kikufuku and Cat can't sleep with lights on so make sure the curtains are down. And don't give the little Cat any sugar or food with salt and..." Satoru starts his fast talk with Megumi while you went to brief your kids on where you and Papa are going.
"Are Yu-nii and Maki-nee coming too?" Kouki looks at the door and jumps up and down.
"Yuta Nii-chan has worked but Maki Onee-chan called me she's coming over." You pat his head. "Help Onii-chan and Onee-chan in taking care of Saika, okay?"
"Okay!" He cheered and you pick him up but gasp.
"My back might break," you chuckled and kneeled to hug him instead.
"Mama!" Saika joins in waddling and plopping her sweet weight on your lap in between, giving you smooches and all.
"Toge-nii!" Kouki cried and jumps out of the fence running to Toge who almost fell to his butt at the collision.
"We're going now," Satoru walks in and carries Saika, kissing and hugging her before depositing the Little Treasure in Megumi's hold and turning to Kouki. "Call Papa when something goes wrong, okay?" Holding Kouki up, the mochi hugs his Papa's neck and Satoru returns the gesture whispering to his ears until you guys reach the gate.
"See you tomorrow?" You ask, kissing Kouki's cheeks. "Love you, sweetheart."
"Love you tons," Kouki hugs you and wiggled out of Satoru's arms asking to be put down.
"Mama and Papa will be back tomorrow sweetie," you gathered Saika in your arms and litter her face with kisses before finally giving her to Megumi.
—babysitting is hard.
"Who has a sibling?" Panda asks.
Maki, Megumi also Panda, and even Toge held their hands up. Kouki also shouted 'me, me, me!'
"Who has taken care of a baby?"
One by one the hands fell until the last one standing is Kouki with a smug look on his face.
"Ara, ara..." Panda trailed down and just in queue Saika burst out crying.
"She's hungry," Megumi stands up to get milk.
"I think she needs a change of diaper," Maki countered standing up to ask Kouki where's the stash of diapers.
"Shake," Toge agrees following to get wipes. "Tsunamayo," Toge called Panda and made a call sign to his ears.
"Yuta's busy."
They gave her milk but Saika only cried louder. Maki changed her diapers courtesy of a Youtube tutorial but she didn't even pee. The cries grow louder and louder and they're starting to get frantic. Megumi has summoned several fluffy familiars but none of them amused the wailing baby. Maki looks at the clock and shakes her head.
"Not an hour has passed yet since Satoru and Y/n-san left."
"Maybe she wants to play," Panda scoots down. "Hello, I'm a Panda."
The cry stopped for a second but it burst out even louder. Kouki on the other hand went up the room and came back dragging a blanket.
"It's nap time."
A flood of relief washed over everyone and Megumi awkwardly lifts Saika. So it was actually nap time!
"Mama!" Saika sniffled and wiggled out of Megumi.
"What's going on?" The door opened and black hair peeks in, Yuta with a bag from the grocery removes his shoes and blinks at his junior and classmates, then his eyes land on a crying Saika.
"Why are you crying Saika-chan?" Yuta sets his sword aside and carried Saika from Megumi. "We'll be back in a bit." Yuta pats the Little Treasure's back who buried her face into Yuta's neck sniffling as they exit the house.
"Was Yuta always that good in handling kids?" Maki blinks, throwing the diapers into the trash.
"Okkotsu-senpai has a younger sister." Megumi corrected.
When they look back Kouki is running outside holding another milk bottle. Yuta is outside the garden lulling the Little Treasure to sleep whose head is already hanging on Yuta's shoulder with eyes closed.
"What's this milk? It tastes like water," Panda spluttered and sets aside the bottle.
"Ah, that's the milk I made." Megumi's face went blank...
10 Month: Diamond
—You notice how Saika's eye change in color
—And she has started recognizing people but has trouble recognizing colors
—Saika extremely loves rolling on the grass during her playtime outside
"Papa, nyaa-san"," Saika points out the lady who passed by holding a leashed cat. You all decided to go out for a small picnic in a nearby park
"It's a neko-san, just like you Cat!" Satoru pokes the snow-white chubby cheeks of his daughter.
"Yeah, neko-san," Satoru's arms loosened as he gently lets down his waddling daughter.
"Mama!" Saika came running to you, almost stumbling forward but Kouki catches her in time.
"I got you watermelon popsicle."Satoru accepts the small stick wrapped in ice and opens the chair for you.
"Does anyone of you wants sandwiches?" The lid of the bento box opened and an array of fresh bread in between are beautiful vivid vegetables and ham. Beside you, Kouki's eyes are already sparkling, and quickly finished his ice cream cup.
"Go wash your hands first," you ushered your kids to the bushes and wash your hands with them.
Kouki heartily ate his vegetables. Saika has her puree. While Satoru from time to time would give Kouki his vegetables.
It's been a while since the four of you went out and have a picnic. Satoru every so often has to leave to settle matters while the kids and you spend the passing days in the home. Until now, you cannot bring them out with a free heart. The memories of Kouki almost taken away from you while Satoru was sealed kept replaying and paranoia won't let your heart ease up outside.
"Yummy?" You ask the little girl making a mess on her bib and a few more sloppy spoon marks on the side of her face.
"Wumi." Saika nods.
After lunch, you let the two munchkins loose on the wide greenery of the park where there are also several kids playing with their kites. Not far from where they play you and Satoru watch over inside the pavilion.
Saika often stumbles on her feet while circling her brother who is sitting on the grass, busily nitpicking something.
"Hon, do you remember the Tachibana Clan?" Satoru drapes his arms at the back of your chair.
"Of course, what about them?"
You smiled at the sight of Kouki placing what seems to be a flower crown above Saika's hair. A palpable smile brightened Saika's face, grabbed the handmade crown, and admired it in her adorable tiny hand.
"What should we do about them?"
"I'll deal with them when Saika is over a year old. As for how I will do it... only time will tell," you shrug and lean on Satoru's shoulders.
"Mama. Look I made this for you."
Kouki came back while holding Saika in his left hand and the other is a clumsily made flower crown.
"How did you make this Kou? It's so pretty, thank you, sweetheart." Cooing the mochi who flash you a boyish grin, you lean down and gracefully accepted the crown. Presenting a kiss on your son's forehead you look at Saika.
"Kouki onii-chan also made one for Saika?" Rubbing the little girl's nose you held her hands and guided her to put on the crown on her head but she just grab it back and played it with her hands.
"How about me?" Satoru points out himself.
Kouki shrugs and told him to open his hands. Obliging Satoru extends his hands and Kouki drops something green into his Father's hand.
"Seriously?" Satoru sighed. "A stem?"
Saika also plucks a petal and drops it on her Papa's hand with a serious look, as if saying. Be-grateful-I-gave-you-a-petal kind of look.
"... well, that's cute." Satoru clears his throat and pockets the litter his kids gave him. "I mean, how about MY flower crown?"
Kouki laughs and runs away followed by Saika, leaving you and Satoru alone while they join to play with the other kids.
"They are YOUR kids after all," chuckling you shake your head at your mochi's inherited mischievousness from his father hidden behind the usual good boy.
11 Month: Emerald
—Your daughter has grown a liking in pranking you, courtesy to the genes of the father, that is.
It's early morning and you could hear the sound of Saika's bedroom door chime from the kitchen. Kouki has grown a habit to wake up early in the morning, dragging his Cinamoroll plushie on the floor, and would go straight to Saika's bedroom once again to sleep by her side until you call for breakfast.
Several times even Satoru would also move to Saika's bedroom after you get up and cuddle his kids early morning. They would look like a pile of cats cuddling each other with their messy white hair and curled-up bodies against each other.
After vacuuming, you made something warm for yourself and sat on the hanging egg chair beside the window that Satoru got for you, a book in your hand and the other holding a mug while you wait for your munchkin to wake up.
"What'cha doin'?" First to come down was a topless Satoru in his sweatpants, stretching his taut muscles, lazily flashing in front of you several red lines like claws marring his shoulders, squinting his eyes at the sunrays permeating the window, and walking to your side, asking for a sip in your mug.
"Reading. Are the kids still sleeping? G'morning," You hummed at the messy kiss Satoru pressed on your lips before he move you to the other corner so he can sit beside you as well. "Love, the chair might break." You look at the rope hanging on the ceiling.
"It'll hold, we're not that heavy. They were still drooling when I tiptoed my way out." Shrugging he leans over your shoulder and quietly sip on your mug and read together with you.
After a few more minutes, Kouki comes down, rubbing his eyes and yawning. Satoru stands up to get Saika and Kouki climbs in to join in your chair, asking for a sip in your almost empty mug.
"Sai's awake sweetheart?"
The mochi plops his head on your lap and nod.
"What do you want for breakfast?" Combing his long hair, your fingers sneakily crawled to Kouki's flat stomach.
"Ma!" Giggling he wiggles away from your fingers, shielding his tummy and pouts. "Pancakes?"
"Okay, but I also made a gratin, which one do you like?"
"Mama!" Saika and Satoru emerged from the stairs and your shoulders shake in laughter at how disarranged her hair is.
"Why do you look like a cat who got into a squabble sweetie? Hmmm?" Satoru set's her down and she runs to hug your knees.
"Mama, 'icky," Saika points out to your neck with her tiny finger.
"What?" Confused you touch your neck and shake your head. "What was that sweetie?"
"'Icky," she repeated, bright blue eyes turned to her father behind who is holding a palm above his mouth, shoulders shaking.
"Cat, it starts with /h/." Satoru made an H sound. "Say it again, c'mon try."
"'Icky...?" Saika's arctic brows furrowed and shake her head. "Mama 'icky?"
"Hicky?" Kouki pieced it together and look at you, confused.
Your eyes swirled, totally blown away what word did your 11 months old Little Treasure has pronounced. Shooting straight up the swing chair you chase your husband who ran away to the door, laughing like a maniac.
"Satoru! What are you teaching to our kids?!"
"'Icky?" Saika blinks to her brother who is equally baffled what the word meant to make their Mama profusely blush red.
12 Month: Alexandrite
—Time flies too fast, the twelve months certainly was as hectic and yet it seems it just flew by. Saika is now a year old... Your Little Princess now stepping foot into the threshold of being a toddler. The crib and baby clothes are now stored in the back of the closet and replaced by the new ones you bought, together with your family.
—There's just more or less a month difference between her and her brother's birthday.
—You and Satoru decided to celebrate a simple birthday in Disneyland, just the four of you and the next day traveled to Hakone.
With a free day at hand, you brought the kids to Disneyland.
"Mama, pwetty?" Saika tugs you and showed you her blue dress, the exact replica of Elsa's turquoise dress in the ice castle. Saika doesn't even need to wear of wig, from her hair to her eyes, all naturally just like Elsa as a baby!
"Oh, my Little Princess is so so so pretty!" You praised making her happy and giddy, flaunting and playing with the dress.
On the side, Kouki is all dressed up as a prince, even pulling his hair to a ponytail. Clutching your heart you can't believe how breathtaking your kids are, THEY'RE PERFECT!!!
Saika runs over and you ask them to stand side by side, looking like dolls brought to life. The other parents stood there in awe and even passed praises to Saika and Kouki.
"Oh my goodness," Satoru gasps and claps his hand seeing the three of your exit the boutique with Saika and Kouki all dolled up!
"Does my Little Princess and Prince-like the dress?" Satoru opens his arms and Saika runs to her Papa smiling so brightly.
"Like!" She agrees and Kouki also stood behind her.
"Then Papa will buy you lots of Princess and Prince dresses."
"Ma, I just want t-shirts," Kouki whispers to you.
You know Saika is too young to grasp what Disneyland is, and she will eventually forget this too as another day, but seeing her all happy—getting a little cranky while waiting in the line for rides—nonetheless, her loud laughter and eyes sparkling in riding them together with Kouki fills you and Satoru with overwhelming happiness
She wasn't scared when you guys went to the haunted house. Kouki accidentally punched a crews 'down there' who tried scaring the boy. Somewhere in the afternoon, Saika fell asleep in the stroller you rented while Kouki and Satoru went to buy lunch.
The parade started and Saika was already too tired. Kouki is sitting on Satoru's shoulders to see the glittering lights against the night and after buying more souvenirs and pictures you guys called it a day.
—Then, there's their grandparents asking to see the kids.
—A clash of opinion between you and Satoru about a long issue going on in the family.
"We've talked about this Love, your parents were such great help when I was carrying Sai." You tried explaining to Satoru who is busily packing a light suitcase for the trip.
"I'm not denying that Hon, but I'm not letting you or our children step into that place, not when those traitors are still in the estate." Satoru sighed.
"We can at least stop by an hour. Satoru..."
"Ask for something else, because I will not agree to this Y/n."
The suitcase flap slammed close with Satoru walking back into the toilet. An exasperated sigh left your lips watching your husband paying no heed to your words.
"..." So many words you want to speak that you could feel your heart pounding hard but refuse to spill any of them. Blowing out another heavy breath, you stood up from the bed and exited the room.
"Mama! Which one should I bring?" Kouki came running up to you holding a pair of pajamas. "Mama, why are your eyes red?" Kouki frowns.
"Mama feeling a bit upset. Can you give Mama a minute sweetheart, I'll pick pajamas with you later." Ruffling your son's long hair, you smiled tightly.
"Are you upset with Papa?"
"Yes," you rub his arms but look to the mochi's eyes. "But that doesn't mean I don't love Papa anymore. Of course, I do love Papa."
Out of the corner Saika waddles over and spots you crouching with her onii-chan.
"Mama, cry?" Saika's eyes widened, and she starts sniffling, flinging her tiny body to your lap, hugging you as her way of comfort.
"Papa and I need our own space to think. But we talk and fix it once we're feeling better. Just like how we do when Kou or Sai feels upset. It is not a bad thing, but it's also important that Papa and I think first. How about you two go and pick out what you wanna take for tomorrow? Mama will be in the garden, okay?"
Reluctantly the kids agreed and you let them run along.
Satoru from the other side of the door silently listened. He has long abandoned packing up and has stuck his ears to the door, somehow making out your faint words through the gaps. However, he can't hear it because of the soundproof wall but he can see you talking to the kids and making your way downstairs.
You two do both need time and space... After seeing you exit to the backdoor leading to the garden he opened the door and made his way to Kouki and Saika sitting in the playroom mat.
"Did you pick your pajamas buddy?" Satoru smiled.
"Papa. Mama's in the garden." Kouki supplied.
"Yeah, Mama and Papa just need a bit of time to sort out our thoughts." Satoru sits down beside his kids and Saika climbs into his lap.
"Papa, Mama crying?" Saika's blue eyes filled with worry.
"Was she?"
"Her eyes are red," Kouki nod.
"Papa will handle it. What do you want for dinner? I can make hamburger steak."
Instantly Kouki's body froze and vehemently shake his head, a palpable grimace on the mochi's face.
"You sure are honest, aren't you Kikufuku." Satoru sighs in defeat, knowing full well he's not much of a great cook. He's not some Michelin star chef, nonetheless passable kind of cook.
"Papa, why do people get upset?" Kouki follows his sister and lays his head on his father's lap.
"Hmmm, it's because we have different opinions. But Kikufuku, just because you're upset doesn't mean that you have to fight. Just like me and Mama, we're having different opinions but that doesn't mean that we hate each other." Satoru rubs Saika's back and ruffles Kouki's hair. "There will be times that you'll feel upset too, even if you love that person the most, but it's up to you which one will you choose, that love or your opinion."
"How about if you can't choose?" Kouki frowns.
"Then you compromise, half of the person's side and half of yours." Satoru smiled and smoothed the artic locks of his children.
After fulfilling your promise with your munchkins to help pick out their pajamas, you step into the bedroom. The clutter of hangers and strewn clothes all fixed up and Satoru right on time also step into the room.
"Our luggage is in the living room. Can we now take a bath?" Satoru asks quietly.
Submerging your body into the wide bathtub, your knees curled up to your chin, Satoru adjusted his position so you can lean your back on his chest but you made no move to recline to him.
"I still think your Mother and Father deserves to see Saika before we go. They never saw her after we left the Estate, and as much as we didn't have good memories of our stay there but they took great care of us. When I was alone your Mother made sure to accompany me and quell my anxiety. An hour or two won't hurt."
"... Hon, she was the one approving the entrance of servants in the estate. Tachibana entered because of her."
"Yes, your mother does And you do know that your Mother is also the reason why Saika and I are safe from poisoning Love," your heart softened hearing him utter his endearment for you. "Your mother cooked for me and Kouki when I can't get up. No one was allowed in the kitchen except me and her, that's why Marika's plans of poisoning us didn't work. You left that instruction and your Mother diligently followed it."
A long moment of silence passed, the water is turning cold and Satoru sighed, leaning over to bury his face in your shoulders.
"After we come back."
"What is it?"
"After we come back, you can spend the day with her. In a hotel, just stay away from the Estate for now," Satoru murmured and your tensed muscles finally relaxed, slumping back to your husband's hard and defined pectorals.
Only then did Satoru also release a grunt of satisfaction., circling his arms around your waist and urging you to both get-up and dry yourselves, ready to turn in for the night.
—Saika is too young to understand what's so nice about a trip, but seeing her giddy in the change of scenery as well as Kouki makes you and Satoru more than happy.
Saika giddily squeals inside the cable car inside her baby harness, looking to the cable car in front where Kouki and Satoru are riding. You're now riding the Hakone Ropeway which will stop by Owakudani where there are hot spring pools and hot rivers with sulfurous fumes. Satoru and Kouki went to get in the hot springs while you and Saika stayed down and just filled your bellies with the delicious onsen tamago.
"Do you want the yolk Sweetie?"
"Woke?" Saika fumbles but accepts the spoonful of egg yolk.
"Yummy?" You laugh at her chasing after the spoon while the yellowish streak stains her side lips.
"Yum!" Saika agrees and opens her mouth as you give her another.
You went to the Botanical Garden of Wetlands where Saika enjoyed walking the pathways pointing to the Nikko Kisuge daylilies in full bloom.
"Do you like it? Should Papa get one for you?" Satoru asks, holding Saika's hand while walking on the pathway of the marshland above the wide stretch of the water body.
"Papa pwetty, flower," Saika points out and you snapped a picture of them walking before you and a selfie of you and Kouki following behind.
And on the last day, you brought the kids to the famous Hakone Shrine. The shrine stands at the foot of Mount Hakone but the shrine building is hidden inside the dense forest.
"It's like the College!" Kouki points out, remembering he often tag along with Satoru up to the Jujutsu Tech grounds which is also hidden in the suburbs of Tokyo in the lush forest protected by Tengen-sama's barrier.
The mountain is especially misty today, and you can't help but feel how the fog disperses every step Satoru takes in front of you. Heat pulsed in your finger and you notice your wedding ring that Satoru molded himself.
"Papa, cloud?" Saika tries reaching out to touch the white formless mist but her hands never reach the fog... she was separated with an unseen barrier from the touch of white mist.
Infinity... Shaking your head at the thoughtful gesture you walk with a sense of security despite the thick fog until the four of you arrive in the lake. Satoru lets Saika and Kouki marvel at the breathtaking sight of the lake and torii gate that is submerged in the waters.
Red Gate of Peace it's called. The story has it a dragon resides in this lake and a priest persuaded it to protect the town of Hakone.
Walking over and crouching down, Satoru places his hands above the kids' heads while watching the rising sun above the wide lake.
"All Mama and Papa wish is for the both of you to live peacefully."
You place your hand on Satoru's shoulder and smiled at the kids' awestruck at the atmosphere swirling in the place. Even your heart settles in a tranquil place of enchanting scenery and calm breeze.
Brushing the white locks of your two munchkins growing longer every day, you can't help but notice how time flies by so fast... How precious they are right now and as much as you want to keep them away, you can't. Someday they're gonna have to leave and walk on their own. You won't be the one to wipe your kids' tears or clean their wounds when they stumble.
"Your hearts may be filled with a serenity like this place." Whispering, you prayed for their future to come.
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[PS: To the anon who sent this, pardon the late reply. I've seen your request since Feb, but things were quite tight in my schedule and it's getting hard to find a long time to sit and write to my heart's content. However, I do hope you guys enjoy these 12 months with Kaleidoscope Gojo Family and the two munchkins. —Grey,]
Check out the Masterlist for more
All rights and credits of the Jujutsu Kaisen character(s) mentioned, image(s), and song(s) used, belong to their respective owner(s).
General/Kaleidoscope Series Taglist: @ice-icebaby @aeanya @gummy-dummy
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fictive-sl0th · 27 days
𝑴𝒊𝒓𝒂𝒈𝒆 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑴𝒊𝒓𝒓𝒐𝒓
1 - Intrusion
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warnings: 18+ mafia themes, dark!mob!Loki
⌜Loki x ofc Cassia Black series⌝
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“Cassia my love?“ 
“Yes, dad?“ The young woman’s voice resounded against the walls of her laboratory, taking twists and turns as it weaved past the many cabinets and equipment.
Hearing his footsteps near, Cassia put down the purple probe and pulled the safety goggles off her freckle-peppered face. Whatever it was her dad needed from her at such time, it couldn’t mean any good. Usually, the leader of the Central and Southern American Mafia was occupied with Frederica’s Tacos on Wednesdays at half past 1pm. 
As the noise faded she glinted over her shoulder, spotting the gray haired man in the doorframe, his face the level of the many 'biohazard' warning sings. The million small wrinkles on his face lit up in the glaring blueish lab light, melting to a younger image of himself. 
The notorious Muerte Negra dreaded by every cartel leader and drug baron spread across the southern American continent. He planned to retire soon. Cassia knew what that meant however, she preferred to repress that stinging bit of knowledge how the criminal underworld worked.
And it worked well, reprieving her from the whirlwind of troubles and woes her father had known from his children’s days.
“What are you working on, my dear?“ The husky in his voice betrayed the youthful-looking image of his meek expression. It was the voice of a man who had whispered lies in the open and barked commands in secret for too long.
Cassia smiled, hoisting an innocent test tube to her eye-level, the transparent liquid gushing like a tiny ocean. 
Huffing in amusement, he crossed his scarred arms in front of a still strong chest, eyes glued to his daughters’. “Bonita… I’ve told you there’s no need for that. It’s Laufeyson“.
Opening her palms in a clueless gesture, thumb carefully pressing the plug in the tube to prevent it from leaking, Cassia’s brows slanted. “I know who Mister Europe is. I’ve read his medical records, dad“. They were highly uncongenial.
“Where the hell did you get-“ but he stopped, rubbing his grey stubble of a beard before Pedro’s voice filled the white lab again “Por favor, Cassia be nice to him. I- I’m in debt“.
Instantly the woman’s face stiffened, an unattended hand slowly setting the liquid back in the rack. Her dad was rarely in debt and if he was he didn’t care because whoever sat on the other side of the table wasn’t worthy of further attention.
Well, obviously the man with surprisingly zero known pre-existing conditions and for his business ridiculously few serious injuries was an intouchablé. 
“You? In debt?“ She just murmured, deciding to redirect her attention to sliding off the white lab coat alongside squeaky latex gloves. It was time to leave anyway now that she was done brewing like a maniac witch. It was meant good after all.
The heavy sigh Pedro’s lips failed to keep in told the irritated woman how severe the definition of the word debt might go with Laufeyson. Cassia had never heard much of him before since the colonizer as they called him over there had brought tranquility and order to the European world. Crucial news were rare.
“He brought me Smirnov’s head. The murderer of your mother“. Her dad’s words seeped in like acid rain, spreading a bitterness on her tongue although she knew she was adopted. Hell, she would never forget what her life had been like but Pedro was her Jesus and Lucia the holy Mary who went to heaven for Cassia to resurrect. 
Taking the possibility to say anything from her, the old man forced his mood to switch, happy corners of his mouth pulled upwards. Frowning for a second, Cassia adapted to her dad, taking his offered arm as soon as the coat was hung at it’s place.
Pedro knew that the past is something irrevocable, that destiny arrives all the same. The more important was a great future.
“Do you remember Steve? The blonde man who-“ 
“Of course. What’s about him?“ Her chirpy voice quickly interrupted, not wanting her dad to remember how damn well she knew the handsome consigliere. How well she knew his moans and his cock… although he probably knew anyway.
Mexican walls could be thin when not stuffed with money.
Chuckling, Pedro caressed his daughter’s delicate hand as they made their way to the black elevator bringing them back to their home. “He will come esta noche“. Cassia’s surprised face was lit up by the LED lights of the opening elevator doors.
Was her dad planning a whole capo dinner with a short interlude of ‘Who stole the diamonds’? 
Begging for an explanation she shook her head, grey eyes meeting his. But Pedro just smiled, taking a torturous time to answer. 
“Steve is Laufeyson’s consigliere. I told him to bring the men essential to keep his business running while he’s on vacation“.
“He what?“ It blurted out of her, a tiny shock written all over her beautiful face. A reaction she was trained to only allow herself when with her people. “I mean, dad, a few days is surely not impending for your business but having them over for vacation?“.
Casually pressing the button with a green 5 adorning the silver metal, Pedro’s small smirk was a harsh contrast to his daughter’s with hesitancy and tension written all across, contorting the scarlet lips. All those precious gears in her head were shifting, already figuring out how to bypass her dad’s partnership rendez-vous that had never been all too pleasant for the woman who wasn’t interested anyway. 
And now they would stay for god knows how long.
The doors were about to close again, the grey haired man shooting a sharp glance at his vintage watch. They were on time. “Until our shared business is concluded, Cassia. Según lo acordado“. -as agreed
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“He could’ve told me earlier. Last week or so“ Cassia muttered with her nerves dangerously close to the claws of annoyance.
The huge helicopter landed about ten minutes prior to the woman striding down the hallway of her home, strong steps bringing her closer to the outdoor dining area the maids had prepared with all kinds of luxurious tablecloths and cutlery. 
Business dinners were far from truly versatile, so Cassia donned a simple black dress, tight with a cowl neck. Nothing too special, nothing tactless. Just like she was supposed to present herself, no, wanted to. Pedro had never criticized her looks or restrained her in any matter. 
“White wine“ the smooth order reaching her mind was promptly turned into a soothing harmony of the presence of a good acquaintance. By mentioning him this morning, Cassia knew her dad would be content with her and Steve pursuing whatever relationship had built throughout his last stay a few months ago. 
A small ray of happiness exuded from her puffy lips, fists stopped clenching. 'It’s gonna be okay' her mind repeatedly whispered, fighting the issue of anxiety that was an old friend or rather a remnant the redhead woman carried along. 
“Loki, please excuse my daughter. She is rather picky when it comes to evening wear“ Pedro explained, his experienced eyes recognizing Loki’s potent stare at the empty chair. 
Loki chuckled lightly, the glass of wine elegantly intertwined with his dexterous digits. “Pedro, Pedro, Pedro…“ he mused, eyes fixed on the burgundy red liquid before they flickered towards Steve wordlessly noting how he was right with bringing Italian wine with him. 
Steve’s smile was subtle, a smirk rather as he understood and took the glass from Loki to set it aside. 
All the while Pedro’s grey beard twitched along with the corners of his mouth, insecurity trying to wrestle his poker face he didn’t expect to need with someone allegedly so close. Of course Loki read him, expression not altering a bit when the twisted alleys of his mind formed a precise continuation of his evasive sentence. 
“It is with great anticipation that I sit here waiting. Hopefully she won’t crush my excitement though“ he purred, all but excitement actually spread on his sharp bone structure. If his statement was legit or not was only known by Steve whose jaw nearly dropped at the sight of Cassia emerging from around the corner.
The young woman’s posture was immaculate, instantly drawing Loki’s emerald attention with female precision. He had seen her on screens. Screens.
She was gorgeous, albeit smiling gleefully at Steve and not even noticing Europe’s secret ruler. 
“Cassia“ Steve’s delighted voice dragged past Loki’s head, nourishing the first petal of his plan to grow to it’s preset color. The second smile of this evening made it’s way onto his velvet lips as he watched his right hand embrace the pretty woman in black. 
She sucked in the scent of the man her memory connected so many things with. Feral nights downtown in one of her dad’s capo’s nightclubs, romantic beach walks with her tongue loose about this and that and endless times entangled in the sheets of her queen size bed. “How are you?“ The question sounded dramatically distant when they parted, the polite nature born from the sensation of a predator’s gaze wandering her side. 
“I’m perfect. And you, angel?“ His big hands held her waist as she leant back to look each other in the eye, unspoken plans about the further course of the evening discussed. A fling. That’s what they had. Both of them knew it was a matter of time what certainly wasn’t an obstacle to enjoying it while it lasted. 
A subtle cough visibly ripped Steve out of the vintage bubble they had created, his strong arms, exposed by a rolled up dress shirt quickly detaching from Cassia’s body.
“Would you please welcome our guest, querida?“ Pedro’s urgent sounding appeal following Loki’s signal, both goading the young woman to turn and finally lay eyes on the phantom that was Loki Laufeyson. 
The respectful “Of course, papá“ got stuck in her throat as her eyes met two narrowed emeralds embedded in the most handsome face she had ever seen. Like a statue in the old city of Venice.
But naturally, her manners weren’t far even if the mysteriously fine appearance of Mr Laufeyson were secretly wrestling a general aversion to encountering her dad’s partners at home. 
Slowly, she approached the still seated intruder whose chair had turned to let a broad, silk clad chest face her right underneath the metallic stare of analysis. Cassia had a gift for him after all. The many hours in the lab shouldn’t be in vain, should they?
“¡Buenas noches!“ Cassia challenged him, kept on walking until she stood between his manspread thighs, fabric aching to withhold the flexing muscles. 
A mistake.
Smirking with a haze of roguishness swirling around the black tendrils of his untied curls, Loki rose to his full height burying Cassia underneath his tall frame. “We’ve been waiting on you, señora“ he stated, a freeze wrapped around his tongue as he fought the urge to lean down to her, to watch that fire in her grey eyes. 
“Apologies, sir“ she threw back the snowball, trained professionalism dripping from her demeanor like molten copper that emitted right from her shoulder length hair. 
She was splendid, Loki heard it in her pitch. 
Both held their stances until that familiar bit of anxiety let Cassia step back, bringing a more proper distance between the pair who looked like one with clothes unintentionally matching. She was eager to please her dad, a loyal, friendly soul in her core but the world had taught her the safer ways. 
However, by batting her eyes up at the man who seemed to be carved out of the finest marble she crashed against closed doors. Loki’s gaze was stern, allegedly unruffled by a young woman’s charm. Even though he was proud of her.
Cassia didn’t know whether it was frustration about his poor reaction or reasonable indifference. Nevertheless, she reached in her handbag only to pull out the unimposing tube. “A little welcome gift. In case you decide to endanger my father’s business here”. Her eyebrow rose at the man in the black suit seemingly unbothered by the Mexican heat. “-where you don’t belong“.
“Cassia!” Pedro hissed quietly, regretting the many times he had allowed her to stay away from business dinners. But Steve appeased him, a calming gesture showing the Muerte Negro that there wouldn’t be any consequences to fear. 
At the same time Loki punished the redhead woman with ignorance as answer to her cheeky remark, cocking his head before he continued unfazed. “I, too, have taken the trouble to bring a gift” Loki suddenly purred, holding his spread palm backwards for Steve to place a small brown box on it. 
Nosy eyes weaved past Lokis lean hips, fixating the box but quickly straying from the item itself. Those veiny hands and long fingers tipped with silver rings caged her eyes in a shameful narrow radius around the object of a yet to discover desire. 
Steve had prettier hands anyway Cassia tried to drag her attention away while knowing she was betraying herself. But Laufeyson would leave again as they all did as soon as whatever business was concluded leaving young women heartbroken. 
Plus he was erratic. Steve was the much wiser choice. 
“Turn” Loki’s foreign baritone ripped her out of a vague conclusion, red hair swaying as she spun, deciding to not longer challenge her father’s precious patience. 
As their gazes met, the young woman was showered by approval sparkling in Pedro’s face. However, her eyes were mercurial, shamelessly drawn back to the alabaster fingers spreading an elaborate gold necklace across her cleavage. The cold metal tickled against her skin, yet incomparable to the sensation of his fingertips grazing those delicate goosebumps. 
He was a stranger, a man of secret, bloody wars , conducting the warmth in her body like a magnet nonetheless. It was highly disturbing.
Scoffing quietly, Cassia wriggled herself out of his possessive hands trying to get some distance between the emeralds and their so generous donor. She was not too easy to impress having spent the last ten years in ridiculous wealth. 
“A necklace… how sophisticated” she cooed, grazing the gems with her pointer before rapidly withdrawing, discarding the jewelry as if her interest simply vanished. It helped to ignore the sizzling nerves yearning for the man’s touch who was staring her down like a whore in skimpy lace.
She had forgotten something.
“Thank you, Mister Laufeyson”.
Pedro’s face had grown deep red, knuckles a contrasting white as he involuntarily bathed in shame. That last comment was unnecessarily sarcastic, even to him.
Tiny, dried leaves cracked under Loki’s matte loafers, his features suddenly softened, polite even when he clicked his tongue in amusement. Probably faux but Cassia didn’t care, accepting the dismissing gesture and swiftly scooting over to Steve.
A quiet, long exhale met the consigliere’s neck as the pretty woman sat on his lap. 
“Cassia, what’s that?” Steve hissed, an eyebrow raised at the cunning smile of his close opponent. “Dad announced you would come. He practically fed you to the wolfes by that” she winked, her scarlet lips barely moving under the sly innuendo. The fucked part of her wished for Loki to have heard.
God, she didn’t even knew why.
But knowing the phantom for solid ten minutes seemed to be enough to nourish her bad image of him. Usually she would veil her dislike with the modest costume of indifference but that’s a stage they never even entered. Needless to say, the origin of her antipathy were just as extrinsic. 
Steve’s pearl white teeth flashed in a silent chuckle, head shaking in amused disbelief. But he gave in. He was ordered to do so. He longed to savor the last days he had left with Cassia.
“Cheers to our long friendship” Loki toasted, the wine replaced by sober water while he professionally dubbed whatever emotions the cheeky gorgeous woman might have awakened. Black, soft tendrils slipped behind his ears, Adam’s apple bobbed until the glass was dramatically empty. 
“May it bear fruit” a raspy breathe was added, eyes as green as the costly gems darting over to where Cassia had relentlessly stopped paying attention to whatever was going on between him and Pedro. 
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“When does he come baaack?” Cassia pouted, nose scrunched while black sunglasses veiled her eyes. 
It had been two hours since Loki ordered Steve to get something from the city. Boredom was written all across her delicate face as soon as despair set back in, pushing the frown away like the stark waves that were crashing on the shore good teen meters beneath the huge terrace. 
Shifting on the lounger, Cassia turned to lay on her back again, carefully calculating each tanning session. Mexico’s afternoon sun was gentle in April, whistling across every exposed inch of her body splayed out on one of the bamboo loungers. 
Only a decent bikini was protecting her from the piercing glance nearing her unbeknownst. 
“Steve will be back in approximately ten minutes” the unique timbre of Loki’s voice shot straight to her bones, Cassia still sensitive to the stranger’s sound. “God” she scoffed, catching her book mid-journey down the lounger. 
Loki just chuckled, sliding his own sunglasses down the irritatingly straight Roman nose before he slowly lowered himself on the lounger next to her.
“Have you been watching me?” It blurted out of Cassia as soon as she realized Loki had just delivered the answer to her desperate soliloquy. And then she was too naive for her own good, eyes pausing to rest on the man’s taunting body.
Almost instantly the book was forgotten, slowly sliding out of her grip as she was the one watching, no, staring at the intruder. Lean, muscular calves went up to melt into thick, defined thighs with ridges shifting and flexing as Loki hoisted his hands to cross them beneath the curly, black mess of his head. Saltwater had made them greasy, fall in strands that were no less tantalizing than when dry. 
“Says the woman who stares like a virgin” he growled, eyes visibly shut beneath the black glasses, relaxed even. As far as the phantom was ever relaxed, an army of muscles and synapses loyally waiting for him to flip the switch. A poorly annoyed tsk was all Cassia could manage to maintain her cover of aversion while greedy eyes began to follow every hill and valley of strong abs hidden underneath black spandex. 
He surely had strangled Smirnov with those arms and shoulders...
“Don’t fret, darling. Go ahead and ask”.
Making a face, the woman tugged a rebellious strand of her own hair away, recapturing the book to display the emotions she thought she felt. There was no way she would find a liking to Mister Europe during his stay, however long that might be.
“Pompous ass“ Cassia muttered, pulling the book closer and quickly hiding her face between the pages and words of another reality. A clear sign that the woman wanted nothing to do with her father's partner and a clear sign for him to keep egging her on. She would soon be putty.
Loki found something entertaining in his sadistic ways.
Smirking towards the simmering sun, Loki's baritone cut the tension once again. “Careful, Cassia“ he began, a cold shover rolling down the young woman's neck when she heard her name spat out like a command.
“No one sane wears those shirts in April. The sun's not even burning?!“ her chirpy voice hastily distracted from what she was originally staring at, a bitter tone swinging within.
“Darling, I was not born last night“ he sighed and blindly tugged at the strained spandex shirt. “However, I'm obliged due to a healing tattoo“.
Knowing that he fed her interest well, Loki let one arm hang down from the lounger, fingers fumbling with the small line of water extending from the pool.
She thought about it and still found herself peeking from the edge of the lines, grey eyes quickly trailed his forearms again, looking for more. For a clue to what his style might look like.
But there were none.
“Hedonist“ she whispered, this time louder than with her first comment, newfound boldness oozing from between her rosy lips.
The water underneath his toying digits splashed up when he chuckled, deep echoes rumbling through his chest and nudging the fabric towards it's limit. “You know me so well, I'm impressed“ sarcasm dripped, mingling with the clear water as he tilted his head to challenge Cassia with a gaze.
But the woman just scoffed, rolling her eyes behind the shield of artificial darkness. He vexed her more with every second of his distressfully potent presence.
“I know as much about you as I've been told, Loki“ she brabbled, turning away from the emeralds that held their proud color even under sunglasses. 'Steve, please' Cassia begged internally, eyes glued to the patio door.
“And Pedro didn't tell me you were such a brat“.
Instantly turning back, ripping the glasses from her face she stared at him, quickly loosing focus when he mirrored her actions. But slower, with elegance.
“Could you stop acting like you're the fucking main character of this play?“ she hollered. Cassia's patience was worn thin, stung by the whole time she watched him parade around her property as if it was his, commanding their henchman as if they were his.
Unfazed by her outbreak Loki felt the vibration of his smartwatch, gracefully stood up and pulled a phone out of the invisible pockets of his trunks. Confusion marinated in Cassia's eyes when she watched him dial a number, long muscular legs bringing him closer to weave past her lounger.
But he leant down, expensive cologne infiltrating the breezy air around the red head. “Darling, I'm the damn author“ he rasped, leaving her with a thousand cuss words stuck in a sore throat and a husky “Salut“ emerging from his phone.
Nonplussed, female orbs narrowed when he walked away, bloody business lurking on Loki Laufeyson’s tongue.
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Thank you for reading 🖤
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telomeke-bbs · 5 months
The opening scene of Ep.5 (including the follow-up post-intro and credits) is one of my favorites (if not the favorite of all) in Bad Buddy Series.
After all the heavy-hitting emotions at the close of Ep.4, Director Backaof and the writers take us on a big leap into the sunshine with this scene, and the tone is light, cheerful and comedic. It also tells us how Pran, so emotionally bruised and battered at the end of Ep.4, is actually really made of tough stuff inside and has bounced back with a vengeance, as he must always have done in the past.
But looking beyond the shiny, happy surface of this scene, there's actually so much going on in the waters beneath, with significant details winking out messages of meaningful connection to other parts of the narrative, that will solidify into quite a number of Aha! and OMG! moments when viewed in the context of other episodes.
The scene starts off with Pat awakening to the smell of cooking fumes and mistaking it for a fire – this is a set-up foreshadowing its parallel in the opening scene of Ep.8, but with the roles reversed (which is BBS signaling the direction of Ep.8 – Pat and Pran switching things up and learning to see each other's point of view).
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At the start of Ep.5 though, Pat and Pran slip easily back into their usual dynamic of tussling and teasing.
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There's more grouchiness on display from Pran, but it's all for show and Pat knows it – he pokes and prods at Pran's peevishness (from Ep.5 [1I4] 2.37) until it gives way and we see the true fondness behind the façade (Ep.5 [1I4] 2.59), with Pran giving in to Pat's pleading and allowing him to stay on in the apartment.
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Actually Pat had been displaying a constant (if unconscious) desire to worm his way into Pran's personal space ever since Ep.1, culminating in his repeated attempts to spend time in Pran's apartment (including forgetting his keys twice, with the second bout of amnesia successfully landing him the chance to bunk over). And his joy at succeeding really shows in his expressions and energy level – the loutish, brooding Pat that we saw at the start of Ep.1 has been truly banished by this point.
The breakfast that we see Pran making for himself is condensed milk on toast – it's what we see him making and eating as part of his morning routine at Ep.2 [1I4] 2.02 (the tube of condensed milk is just visible at timestamp Ep.2 [1I4] 2.05).
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And of course the tube of condensed milk will be significant later on in this episode – as the breakfast toast that Pat snatches away and chomps down has (probably) used up the last of the milk, we see later in Ep.5 that Pat will leave a little sticky note (with a smiley that Pran loves) promising to buy him some more (which he does, but then is regretfully unable to give to Pran – in the scene after the confrontation with Wai the milk becomes a forlorn symbol of all that is still unsaid and unresolved between Pat and Pran).
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It may be just a coincidence (and then again, maybe not, given how much nudge-nudge wink-wink there is in Bad Buddy) but the tube of condensed milk may also be BBS nodding at another BL trope. It's a sweet dairy product with a prominent pink rose – making me think of SOTUS and pink milk here. 🤔
Anyway, Pran doesn't go hungry even though his breakfast toast has been stolen by a big hungry dog – he grabs one of the breakfast sausages he's prepared and munches on that before he leaves.
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Ignoring any possible Freudian connotations for the moment, what this does suggest – when viewed in tandem with his breakfast in Ep.2 [1I4] – is that separate from Pran's usual condensed milk on toast, he'd prepared a second, more elaborate breakfast of sausages and a fried egg with a prettily-arranged side salad too (who goes to all that trouble on a school day?), which he then leaves (mostly) untouched for Pat when he goes off to faculty.
Despite all the (faux) animosity on display, it looks like Pran had actually thought of Pat as well while making breakfast, and he didn't spare any effort to make sure his beloved would get to eat too. (This little bit of culinary domesticity is echoed later on as well, when we see Pran has added that little extra TLC to Pat's breakfast at Ep.8 [2/4] 6.17 after they become a couple.) 😊
We already know that two boys aren't enemies at all. But what the opening scene of Ep.5 is making abundantly clear is that they're also really close, and that they fundamentally do care a lot about each other despite all the prickliness on display.
So when Pran finger-splashes Pat at Ep.5 [1I4] 3.36, there's actually a bit of unspoken wordplay going on (bear with me on this).
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Pran also does this at the kitchen sink after they're coupled up, at Ep.9 [2/4] 5.27. (And for those who've been watching The Eclipse, Akk also splashes Ayan like this in at least two scenes.) I hadn't noticed it at first, and you don't need to know the underlying meaning for the gesture still to be read correctly as a teasing jibe, but it's still a fun linguistic detail.
One of the Thai words for splash is สาด (pronounced something like saat), and it can be used in a euphemism for one of the rudest insults – ai-saat, which in its most offensive form means a*hole (spelt ไอ้สัส, apologies to any Thai readers out there).
The ai part is a rude honorific used for males (there's a different one if the target of the insult is female). We get to hear Pran calling Pat a version of ai-saat (that the subtitles also translate as a*hole) at Ep.4 [1I4] 14.37, during his meltdown after a sweaty Pat tries to get Pran better-acquainted with his rugby tank top (and which is also a clue to us that Pran is only prim and proper when social formalities require him to be – he's a truer version of himself when it's just him and Pat, and sometimes it seems he's capable of serving worse than post-Ep.1 sweetheart Napat Jindapat). 😂
Ai-saat meaning a*hole is sometimes replaced with ไอ้สัตว์, also pronounced quite similarly. With this spelling the saat means beast or creature. This is less offensive but still very rude, especially since it still puns on the a*hole meaning. (Actually both the euphemisms are pronounced slightly differently than the a*hole version of ai-saat, but the allusion would be clear to Thai speakers.)
For more info, these puns on the original ai-saat are discussed in the Pantip forum linked here.
So when Pran splays his fingers webslinger-style and sprays Pat with water he's silently (and rudely) calling him ai-saat (and Akk is calling Ayan that too in The Eclipse). Whether it means a*hole or animal is up to you. The latter meaning may not be out of place because Pran also calls Pat "a big clingy dog" at Ep.9 [2/4] 4.25 (while in The Eclipse Akk says "The dog is pretty cute, wouldn't you say?" as he splashes Ayan in the toilet). 😉
And when Pran tells Pat not to touch his stuff at Ep.5 [1I4] 3.13 – I think he's just saying that for the sake of saying it.
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He knows Pat is going to be poking around anyway (see Ep.5 [1I4] 5.07), but more importantly he trusts Pat around his belongings. This trust is made crystal clear later when he calls back at Ep.5 [1I4] 4.51 and asks Pat to get some info from his computer, revealing his password to him. Once again we are being told how close the two of them really are.
When Pat pulls up a chair and starts leafing through Pran's sketchbook at Ep.5 [1I4] 4.36, he's finally getting himself acquainted with Pran's private world, and he's more than happy to be doing so. But going more meta, what we're seeing here is actually an explanation for the hijinks of Ep.7, when Pat and Pran compete to see who can make the other confess their love first.
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Next to a sketch of the khanom jeep dumplings that Pat had gifted to him (itself an act of courtship), Pran had (I think) written จีบไม่ค่อยเก่งเปลี่ยนเป็นเข่งขนมจีบได้ไหม? which roughly translates to "I'm not very good at flirting. Can we change it to a dumpling basket?"
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Now there is a bit wordplay going on here as well. The jeep part of khanom jeep also means to flirt/court/woo while the word for basket (that they steam the dumplings in) is เข่ง (kheng), which is spelt and pronounced only slightly differently from the word แข่ง (khaeng), which in turn means to compete. So – taking the wordplay into account – what Pran wrote can also be read as a veiled "I'm not very good at courtship. Can we change it to a courtship competition instead?"
Since Pran has made it clear here told the world here (via his preferred method of communicating, which is coded and obscured) that he isn't comfortable with conventional courtship, what we see Pat doing later at the end of Ep.6 is really taking him at his word – and together they replace the courtship or dating phase preceding their couplehood with that strange "Who will confess first?" competition in all of Ep.7.
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And it kind of makes sense, even if the underlying logic is a bit bizarre, since competition had always been the bedrock of their relationship and would have been comforting and familiar especially for Pran (who up until Ep.10 was staunchly repressing all his emotions).
All of this double entendre is not captured in the subtitles, which is why the Ep.6 bet and the shenanigans of Ep.7 seemed so puzzling at first, barring an explanation of why competition had replaced courtship for the two of them. If you'd like to read more, I've written this up in greater detail at this link here.
So when Pran allows Pat access to his computer (itself another comment on issues of consent in BL), it's revealed that his password is Pransocool – and this is BBS setting up explanations for Pran's state of emotional repression, what's behind the password reveal during Ep.10's khan maak on the Archi steps, the role of Pran's peer mentor P'Joke, and the significance of the password's change to Praninlove later.
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Once again the subtitles obfuscate the already oblique meanings (especially when Pat says "Brajao Joke" instead of the "So Cool band" that we read in the subtitles at Ep.5 [1I4] 5.45 and when he calls Pran "Brajao Pran" instead of the "Pransocool" in the subtitles at Ep.5 [1I4] 5.52).
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It's way too much to clarify in just this opening scene analysis, but I've written it all up in another essay, linked here (a very long post though). The details about the passwords, Brajao Joke and So Cool band do come together to form one overall explanation, I promise.
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Pran's phone call to Pat asking him for a favor here also gets its own parallel at Ep.10 [1I4] 8.21, so in a sense Ep.5's phone call is actually a set-up for Pran's set-up – of Pat, to get him to their khan maak in Ep.10.
The scene then draws to a sweetly nostalgic close with Pat happily poking around Pran's computer, just as he had been poking around Pran's physical stuff just minutes before.
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Pat viewing Pran's high school images at Ep.5 [1I4] 6.13 is BBS's own version of Love Actually's scene with Keira Knightley looking at Andrew Lincoln's photographs of her wedding and realizing that she's the true focus of his pining heart. But Pat is a lot more clueless than Keira – the majority of Pran's photographs (at least those we're shown here) have Pat in them, and if this is a sign of Pran's feelings for him, it probably only lands with any weight in Pat's consciousness later on in the episode.
So aside from all the clever reveals and seed-planting, and the closeness demonstrated between Pat and Pran, this scene is also heartwarming because of the joy we get to see in Pat, sniffing contentedly around Pran's apartment like a little puppy who's finally found his forever home. Pat had been unconsciously demonstrating a need to get closer to Pran ever since Ep.1, and I think he was doing that because his unconscious heart knew even then that his true home and happiness would lie wherever Pran was.
But here at the start of Ep.5 it's all a mystery still to Pat's conscious self. Nonetheless, his long overdue awakening will come soon enough as the rest of Episode 5 unfurls. The cheery lightness of this carefully-crafted opening scene is also meant I think to allow us a bit of respite (or lull us into a false sense of calm, for the more cynically inclined), before we are plunged into the heavier and heavier emotional unveiling of later on in the episode, that will culminate in the final blowout of the Epic Rooftop Kiss. 👍
[Afterpost Edit: this post is only for the opening scene of Ep.5. For notes on the rest of the episode, see this link here. 😊]
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space-mermaid-writing · 5 months
The witchling and the god [Loki x Witch!Reader] Chapter 7
Summary: The Avengers were looking for someone to help Loki fit in with the team. To become socially acceptable, so to speak. He had been given the choice of sitting in a cell in Asgard or serving some sort of community service probation on Midgard. The Avengers and Shield both felt that as long as Loki was on Earth, he should be under supervision. This is now your job. Why? Because you’re a witch. You’re not sure why this qualifies you, but here you are, giving it a shot. What could possibly go wrong?
Tags: Witch!Reader, Magic, Witches, slow burn, everybody lives in the tower, character development, Loki‘s redemption, Stephen Strange is a friend, Loki and Stephen are frenemies, Tony Stark is a good bro, kids love Loki, Tony has stupid nicknames for everybody, eventual smut
Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist | Read it on AO3 | Previous | Next
Chapter's Note: Y’all probably have questions. I have the answers. So let’s go a few minutes back and see what happened before everything went shit. You’ll find a link for a song in the second part of this chapter. It inspired me writing this whole part of the story and sets the mood. Also be prepared to be educated on Norse mythology. Beta by @zaria-04 <3
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Chapter 7: A weak heart
Loki follows Nurse Chapel into the boy's room. "Please be careful with him and don't upset him. He has a weak heart," the head nurse warns him.
Loki nods.
The hospital room is neutrally furnished. The centerpiece is a bed on which a pale boy lies. Several tubes lead from him to machines next to the bed. He receives oxygen and an infusion. The head end of the bed is elevated and he has a thick pillow under him, so he is almost in a sitting position. He has the blanket only half over him and he seems to be enjoying the cooler temperatures. Under his gown at chest level, the outline of an angular apparatus can be seen, which he seems to be wearing on his body. Every few seconds, a small green dot flashes under the fabric.
The room smells sterile, cool, and like something Loki remembers from wartime sick bays. It’s death lurking in the corner waiting for time to come.
"Felix, this is Loki," introduces Chapel to the Asgardian.
The boy, Felix, turns his head to Loki, who had stepped to the other side of the bed and eyes him curiously. He looks tired, dark circles under his eyes and dry, torn lips that he slowly pulls into a smile. "Hey." His voice is soft and croaks.
"Hello," Loki greets him.
Nurse Chapel gives him an encouraging nod and then retreats back to the windows, where she busies herself changing the water in the flower vases and airing the room.
"You don't have to act, you know," Felix says. "I know you are not the real Loki. No offense."
"None taken."
"Do you know anything about Norse mythology?"
"I do. What do you want to know?" Loki recognize that look. When someone is looking for answers. Because they know time is slipping through their fingers and their thoughts automatically turn to what may come after. Whether they're Asgardian or human.
"What happens after death?"
Loki takes a seat at the edge of the bed. "Everyone is made up of four parts," Loki explains what his mother taught him as a child. "The body, Hamr, disappears from this world after death. Then Flygja, which I guess you humans see as a totem or a familiar spirit. Hugr is your personality or character. This is what will move into the afterlife after death. And last, Hamingja, a part given to you by your ancestors and passed on to descendants within the family."
The boy listens to him attentively. "So Hugr is the part that could go to Valhalla? But only brave warriors are allowed there. And I have never been strong enough to fight in my life." It's a lot of words for him and it makes him cough. He points to a glass standing by his side of the bed. Loki hands it to him and helps him take a few sips.
He takes the time to think meanwhile and answers only after he puts the glass back. "In my eyes, you are strong and brave. Those are good qualifications for Valhalla. But it's also possible that you'll see Helgafjell."
"Not Helheim. Helgafjell, the holy mountain. Where the dead are reunited with their families and loved ones. It is a place of home and happiness.
"That sounds beautiful. But my family doesn't believe in it. So they probably won't be there."
"Everyone has their own beliefs. But who says there can't be different terms for the same thing?" Loki says.
Felix thinks about that for a while, then nods. "I like that."
"If you have a good heart, you'll get to a good place."
"My heart is not good. That's why there's this thing on it." The boy grins at his joke, but it looks painfully distorted.
For a while they sit in silence.
Loki looks at all the apparatus and machines, listening to the soft beeping and rattling of oxygen. "I have seen many warriors on battlefields in the face of death," he then says, turning his head back to the boy. "Few have been as calm and collected in the process as you."
Felix bites his lips and looks away. "I'm scared," he admits.
"Do you trust your faith?"
"I… think so."
"Then that's stronger than your fear."
Felix's eyes look up at him. "You're good," he murmurs, rather tired from the conversation. "A good Loki."
The Asgardian does not reply. He does nothing but sit here and talk to the boy, telling him what he himself learned at a young age. He is not good at offering hope or comfort. That would be something his mother would have been better at. Even Thor probably would have found words to inspire the boy and strengthen his fighting spirit. That's what the oaf was good at. Loki merely tells tales.
"Do you know the meaning of runes?" he asks after a while of silence.
Felix, who had closed his eyes for a moment, blinks and nods. "Yes."
Nurse Chapel is still in the room, but she gives the two men privacy in their conversation. Loki is sitting with his back to her, so he knows she won't notice as he moves his finger in the air and draws a symbol. Golden light follows his movements and for a brief moment the image of a rune appears.
Felix's eyes widen.
"Eihwaz," Loki says. "It symbolizes life and death. Transitions and renewals. As soon as a yew tree dies, a new tree emerges inside the decaying trunk. It is a rune with great magical power. It helps in overcoming challenges."
With a flick of his wrist, a flat pebble appears in his hand. Tiny sparkles etching that very rune on it. He places it in Felix's hand. The boy looks at it and then back at Loki. He opens his mouth, but the Asgardian puts his finger to his lips and winks. It would remain their secret. The boy seems to like that, because he smiles and embraces the stone. Then he coughs again, this time more urgent.
On the edge of his mind, Loki notices an irregularity in the beeping of the machine. Nurse Chapel appears at the bedside and looks at the boy with concern. "Felix?" He doesn't answer, but his coughing calms down again. The beeping stops for a moment. Felix's gaze is on Loki. His lips move in two short syllables, but no more sound comes out. Goosebumps spread over Loki's arms. He recognizes death when he looks it in the eye.
Then an alarm starts in the hallway, Loki hears it through the ajar door. At the same time, the machines here in the room give off various warning signals. The head nurse pushes the Asgardian aside and rushes to action. Several doctors and nurses come rushing into the room. They crowd around the bed, blocking the view of the boy.
Loki backs away against the wall. He doesn't need to see Felix to know what's happening. He senses the crushing silence of death in the room, even as the doctors still try to stop it, to bring the boy back. The shrill, drawn-out beeping of the machine pricks his ear like a needle.
The door opens again and he sees you enter. Your expression is horrified as you realize what is going on. Your head turns to him and your eyes meet. He screwed up. Loki sees it on your face, the panic spreading through it. It's too much for him. All of this. Almost reflexively, he disappears, taking flight before you can take another step toward him.
This is bad.
This is the absolute worst.
You step back into the hallway, where the two agents have jumped on their feet. "Loki's gone," you inform them, "I don't know where to."
It reminds you of your lunch date at the restaurant, when you also thought he had disappeared. Luckily, you found him quickly back then and he had only wanted to help the girl who was lost. Maybe now you are lucky again and he just went out for some fresh air.
You hear the doctors turn off the heart monitor. This time the situation is different.
To the credit of the two agents, they are absolutely calm. "Inform Stark, Miss, we'll check if he's in the building," one of them instructs you, while the other has already started moving.
You nod and pull out your cell phone. If you were in your witch's kitchen or had more equipment with you, you might be able to find out where Loki disappeared to. Unfortunately, you have no choice but to call Tony.
The Viking Prayer Lo, there do I see my father. Lo, there do I see my mother, and my sisters, and my brothers. Lo, there do I see the line of my people, Back to the beginning! Lo, they do call to me. They bid me take my place among them, In the holy mountain of Helgafjell! Where the brave may live forever!
Loki stands on a beach and stares at the horizon. It's hard to tell where the sea ends and the sky begins. The wind rushes through his hair, tangling it. The fresh sea air feels good in his lungs. There's something very soothing about it. He could spend an eternity here.
The beach is empty, no one is here but him. He feels comfortable in solitude - that's what he has always told himself. But it doesn't make his heart less heavy.
Above the gentle sound of the waves, he hears a familiar sound as Thor lands near him with Mjölnir.
Thor takes a few steps toward him, glad to have found the younger prince at last. Still, he remains wary, for he is unsure of his motives. "Brother!"
Loki finally turns to face him. Thor sees the tears in his eyes, though Loki quickly blinks them away. Thor's demeanor shifts instantly and he drops his hammer to the sand, realizing he doesn't have to use it. "What happened?" he asks softly.
Loki's gaze shifts to the ground. "It's been a long time since I've seen a young warrior boy go to the other side."
It shouldn't affect him so much. It was just a young Midgardian boy. He hadn't even known him for more than fifteen minutes.
But Loki can't forget his last glance. The boy’s lips moving, his last word Loki didn't understand. Loki wonders if it was his name, a silent prayer to a god. He could give him no mercy. He had no control over where his soul would go. Loki had been unable to do anything for him. He had failed him. Just another one in a long line of disappointed ones.
He gasps for air as Thor pulls him into a tight bearhug.
At first Loki is too perplexed to react, just awkwardly puts his hands on Thor's back. But the elder doesn't let go of him until Loki relaxes. Thor has always been able to give the best hugs and Loki realizes how much he's missed them. It feels good to know his brother is here with him and he breathes a deep sigh of relief.
Quite a while passes before they break away from each other and Thor speaks up again. "Tell me about him."
And so Loki tells his brother about the boy, about Felix’ struggle and about his last moments in this life.
Hours have passed and Loki still hasn't shown up.
Tony had cursed when you called him, but you have to give him credit that he jumped right into action and took all the necessary steps. He sent one of his Iron Man suits out as a search drone and Thor also set out to find his brother.
The two agents who had been with you had searched the entire hospital and its surroundings, but found nothing.
You went back to the tower, where you immediately performed a tracking spell, but without getting any results. Wherever Loki was, he didn't want to be found by you.
Finally, you make your way to the large lounge upstairs to distract yourself while you wait. First you try to read, then cook. But you can't concentrate. You keep checking your phone to see if there's an update.
Secretly, you blame yourself. Maybe you should have been more careful. Maybe the whole thing had been a bad idea. Maybe you should have gone with him into the room. But you're not a babysitter and no matter how you spin it, you wouldn't have wanted to do anything differently.
Finally you hear noises on the terrace and you see through the large windows that Thor and Loki have landed on the platform outside. Relieved, you rush to meet them as they enter in silence. "Loki!"
When he sees you, his expression darkens. It makes you stop in your tracks, as you fear he'll disappear again if you come any closer.
"How are you feeling?"
Your question seems to surprise him. He expected you to be angry about his disappearance. "I’m fine," he replies simply.
"Are you sure?" you ask, because you're not convinced. You take a step toward him and see his reddened eyes. He notices your gaze and turns his head away, just walking past you.
"It wasn’t the first dead person I've seen," he informs you coolly.
You recognize that tone by now as the mask he puts on. You can only guess how he feels underneath.
"There's no shame in mourning the dead," Thor interjects, but his brother ignores him.
Before Loki can leave you both, you follow him, grabbing his arm and turning him to face you. He opens his mouth in protest, but by then you've already pulled him into an embrace.
For the second time today, he is surprised by this. It shows how little he is used to it. You hear him inhale and exhale deeply, his warm breath against the crook of your neck.
"The doctors said it was heart failure," you murmur just enough for him to hear. "He had a donor heart, but his body rejected it. There was nothing that could be done."
"Mhm." Loki breaks away from you, but you stubbornly hold onto his hand.
"It wasn't your fault," you tell him plainly. You don't know if that's what he needs to hear, but you feel it necessary to mention it.
He nods, but doesn't meet your eyes. He withdraws his hand from you and then leaves the lounge without another word. You look after him, wondering if you should go after him.
You turn your head to Thor, who has stepped beside you and is also looking worriedly after his brother.
"Give him some time, Lady Witch. Loki is processing things in his own way," he advises you.
You hope he's right. "Thank you for finding him," you tell him.
"Of course, he's my brother," the thunder god says. "If anything, I have you to thank for taking such good care of him and giving him a second chance."
You force a smile. It's your job to take care of Loki, but you don't want to say it like that. You realize it's more than just a simple job for you. You don't know yet what to do with that knowledge. At some point, you'll have to face the consequences. But for now, you will just tell Tony that Loki has reappeared.
This was a heavy chapter but I really wanted to write it. There will be happy times soon.
Tag List: @lokisgoodgirl @lokixryss @itsybitchylittlewitchy @yokshi-unbeliebubble @fictional-hooman @elennair @all-envy-suyu @purplekitten30 @elisadmaggiore @nothing2113 @baebeepeach @ceo-of-stfu @moonlightreader649 @ronipiamka @fluffybunnyu @ninjarose23 @ozymdias @huntress-artemiss @thedistractedagglomeration @rosaline-black
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mcfc-evie · 11 months
1. Mr. Arrizabalaga (Está Dañada)
In which they meet, she helps, and he thanks.
hi y’all this is a series that i hope m gonna finish, also don’t yell at me for my broken spanish the last time i spoke proper spanish was in like year five- but i’m learning again <3
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Language. The verbal and written expression of thought into coherency. Linguistics. Why certain words mean certain things, and who decided that. Why some languages are easier to learn than others, why there are words that can be forgotten, spoken a last time without ever knowing that that time would be the last. Words that are forever left unspoken, only written- languages of which the sounds are forgotten.
She loved communication. She loved languages - and she loved speaking to people. She found that there was nothing more beautiful in life than the art of communication, than the expression of thought into words. She’d begun learning a second language when she was seven, and was on to her fifth by sixteen. Languages came easy to her, and one Romance language lead to the next until she spoke all of the world languages, and then some.
And now - she was a polyglot, and she’d just landed herself a new job. It wouldn’t pay very well, but it would pay enough to keep doing what she’d been doing ever since she moved to London. And that was enough for her, because she loved what she did.
Ever since moving to London, she would perform volunteer work at a daycare during her days off - and always donated as much as she could spare to charities. She didn’t care much for luxury. Instead, she wanted to help those less fortunate, finding the act of kindness much more fulfilling than spoiling herself.
That was exactly why she felt a bit strange, accepting a job at one of the richest football clubs in the world. It felt like a bit of an oxymoron, walking through the halls of Stamford Bridge, trying to locate the meeting hall that she was supposed to be in in about 7 minutes - after coming off the tube, because she didn’t own a car.
The meeting she was about to have was about the plan of action - she’d been hired to improve the communications between the international players at the club, after they’d come to the conclusion that having a certain amount of players who all spoke broken English, would sometimes lead to misunderstanding on and off the pitch. So, she’d been hired to work as a translator, really.
She was listening to some music, softly humming along as she skipped through the halls, a little lost in the big stadium. She was drawn from her haze when she suddenly heard some people talking loudly - a discussion. There was crying too - that of a little boy’s. She could make out a little voice, that was rambling in distressed Spanish about finding his papá, and pulled out her earplugs as she followed the source of the sound, meeting now long forgotten.
She reached the source of the sound quickly, and found what looked to be a six-year-old boy, in tears, and three other staff members who looked absolutely clueless. They were trying to talk to the boy in English, but he just cried more, and repeated. “No habla inglés.” [I don’t speak English]
“Hola. ¿Cómo estás?”[Hi, how are you?] She said softly as she approached, greeting the boy with the warmest smile she could manage. The boy perked up at the sound of his native language, still teary eyed as he replied, voice shaky. “Hola.”
“¿Cómo te llamas?” [What’s your name?]She asked, tilting her head to the side as she looked at him expectantly.
“Mateo.” He said back, still a bit sheepish.
“Hola Mateo.” She continued, helping him stand up. “¿Qué pasó?” [What happened?] She asked, keeping her voice soft as he continued to look at her with a sort of awe.
The boy sniffled before answering. “Me perdí y ahora no puedo encontrar a mi papá.” [I got lost, and now I can’t find my dad.] His eyes filled with tears again, and she shook her head softly as she opened her arms, comforting the young boy to the best of her abilities.
“Shhh -“ She shushed him softly, trying to get him to stop crying. “Está bien. Vamos a encontrar a tu papá. ¿Sabes cómo se llama?” [It’s okay. We’re going to find your dad. Do you know his name?] She inquired softly.
The boy nodded then, and gave her a small smile.
“Sí sí, su nombre es Kepa.” [Yes, yes - his name is Kepa.] He replied.
She smiled softly, before rising to her full height and holding out her hand, which Mateo grasped quickly, not wanting to lose sight of the woman who’d helped him. “What is the most direct way to the pitch?” She asked one of the other staff members, who still looked shocked by the display of her Spanish.
“Down the hall, first door to the right.” Came the gruff response - she muttered a thank you, before beginning to walk into the given direction, making sure that Mateo’s little legs could keep up.
They’d been walking for about five minutes when the little boy spoke again, eyes big as he looked up at her. “¿Cómo se llama?” He asked, lips slightly parted as he awaited an answer.
She told him his name, and giggled when Mateo repeated it. She found the door that lead into the stadium then, and held it open for him as the two went through it, making sure to walk down the large concrete steps slowly. She was also scanning the pitch for Mateo’s father, Chelsea’s infamous no.1. They reached the barrier, and she helped the little one climb over.
All of the Chelsea boys were huddled together, seemingly in a heated discussion.
She could guess what that discussion was about.
Mateo let go of her hand as soon as he caught sight of his father, breaking out into a full-on sprint - running as fast as his little legs could carry him. He threw himself at a man - undoubtedly his papá, who cried out in surprise at he sudden collision, before lifting the little man into the air.
She could hear the man scold his son for running off, and she couldn’t help but agree. If she hadn’t run into him, if she’d had her music just that tiny bit louder, she never would’ve heard him.
All eyes were on her then, suddenly, as the boys turned to followed who Mateo was pointing to. Of course Mr. Arrizabalaga wanted to know who’d been able to help his son.
She flushed with embarrassment. She’d never much liked being the centre of attention.
The keeper jogged over, holding Mateo on his hip as he moved to meet you at the barrier. “Gracias.” He said, breathless. “Muchas gracias.” He held out his free hand. “I’m Kepa.” He introduced himself, wearing a bright smile.
She told him her name, and shook off his attempt to thank her with a smile. “No need to thank me. I’m glad he’s found you.” She dipped her head shyly, and took a step back. “I have a meeting.” Her eyes widened, as the realisation hit her. She took a quick look at her wrist to check the time, and cursed. “That started about nine minutes ago - but it was a pleasure to meet you!” She rushed out, and took off- leaving the two Spanish boys confused and a little confounded, in her wake.
When she finally got out of her meeting - which was long, horrid, and completely shit after getting shit on for being late, she was tired. And hungry.
She passed by a receptionist, who stopped her. “Sorry Miss.” The receptionist said. “There’s someone waiting for you in the lobby.”
She gave the other woman a confused look, but nodded as she stepped into the elevator. She was wondering who in heaven’s name would be waiting for her? - she wasn’t even counting Mr. Arrizabalaga as a possibility, because she considered herself to be a very realistic person, and the odds of some millionaire football player waiting for her just because she helped him once, didn’t really seem realistic to her.
She came to the conclusion that sometimes life was just unrealistic enough, though - when she was met with the expectant eyes of Kepa Arrizabalaga and the young Mateo, after stepping into the lobby. “Let me take you out for dinner.” He said directly, not allowing any room for arguments. “As a thank you.”
“There’s really no need.” She tried, once again.
“I insist.” He retorted, and looked at her until she yielded, and nodded in agreement, muttering a soft alright.
They end up at a McDonalds drive-in, per Mateo’s request, and they eat in the car as Mateo animatedly speaks about his day at Stamford Bridge, his adventure with her long forgotten.
He then insisted on driving her home, and pressed the issue until she agreed reluctantly, continuously telling him that there was no need. No need to thank her, no need to buy her food, no need to drive her home. And she kept calling him Mr. Arrizabalaga, even after he told her not to.
Mateo cuts into silence, breaking it. “¿Cuándo nos volveremos a ver?” [When are we going to see you again?]
Kepa scolds him for his boldness, but she shakes it off, and answers, insisting that his question wasn’t an issue. “No lo sé, mijo - quizás pronto.” [I don’t know - maybe soon.]
When they finally reach her apartment building, she feels self-conscious. She can feel the Spaniard’s eyes burning into the side of her face, and she can almost hear him think the question he wants to ask. “Is this the right place?” He inquired softly.
No. She wanted to answer, feeling awful about how run-down the building she lived in looked. She felt a little humiliated, even, but refused to let it show. “Yes. Thank you so much for dropping me off - and for the dinner. You really shouldn’t have.”
“I should have, and I’m glad I did.” He replied, without missing a beat. “If it weren’t for you, things could have ended a lot differently. I’m glad you were there for my boy.”
“No worries.” She offered shyly, turning her head to look at him, and savouring the closeness. He was a handsome man, and this was realistically speaking - probably the last time she would ever get to see him this close.
“Could I - have your number?” He asked suddenly, and she blinked a few times before formulating her answer.
“I didn’t help Mateo to get your number, Mr. Arrizabalaga.” She said with a small smile.
“Please - Kepa.” He said, urgency in his tone as he tried to convince her again. Even though he did love hearing the way his last name rolled off her tongue. She said it just right.
“I’ll see you some other time, Kepa.” She retorted, before opening the door of his car, stepping out - and walking back into her apartment building.
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moon-sang · 8 months
ᴛʜᴇ ʟɪʟᴀᴄ ᴡɪᴛᴄʜ
Series Masterlist
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SUMMARY: You live with Din on the Razor Crest. You babysit the kid and he gives you shelter and food… It was a good deal. Little did Din or the other Mandalorian’s know what you truly were, and just how dangerous you could be.
WARNINGS: Half naked reader (not sexual!), angst, soft!Din, mature language, tattoos, pls tell me if I miss anything. ALL MANDO’A TRANSLATIONS ARE AT THE END.
~ Heavily inspired by marvel - the scarlet witch in particular.
WORD COUNT: 3.2K - I am sorry.
SONG LISTENED TO WHILST WRITING: Lovely - Billie Eilish (on repeat)
Chapter 7: Dangerous Substance
Darkness filled your cell.
What were you going to do? 
You were tired of starring at the same black wall. How long have you even been here for? It’s hard to tell when you’re in a haze, on the brink of starvation. You felt drained, empty....alone. 
Your fingers ghost over the sensitive skin on your wrist. You traced over the 078 tattoo imprinted on your skin. Maker you wish you could just cut that tattoo off. It didn’t just imprint your skin... it imprinted your life too...tainted it. That tattoo made you who you were, all because you were born with powers. 
You’re pulled back to reality as the hatch to your cell opens.
 “Hello 78.” Gideon addresses. “That’s not my name.” You grumble back. The imperial hums in response. “I believe it was your name when your father traded you in to us for credits.” He calmly states. “No! It was the number you gave me!” You retort. “Yes, because you are my seventy-eighth experiment.” 
A thick silent coaxes the two of you, of course you didn’t mind it, you hated him. 
“Well 78, you need to come with me.” Gideon states with a sly smile etched on his face. You wish you could say you weren’t going to go anywhere with him, but you had no control over the situation. 
The officer dragged you by the chain into what seemed like a small room. It wasn’t a cell, you could tell that much. All the walls were marble. All painted an obsidian black. 
In the middle of the room was..... a tank? It looked like a giant jar filled with water. “What’s that?” you cautiously ask. Gideon smiles. “That, my friend, is a bacta tank... except.. without the bacta.” He surprisingly replies. “What’s the point of having it then?” you quip. “You’re going in it.” he replies rather quickly. Before you can even process what he says, something.. sharp is plunged into the side of your neck, it only stung for a moment until everything went numb. Everything that happened after that was blurry, alls you remember is you blacked out for quite some time. 
The next time you awoke you were indeed submerged in water. It was icy against your bare skin, but there was no escape, the top and bottom of the tank were sealed and the glass was unbreakable, surely custom made to deal with beings with magic. 
You were dressed in a white tank top and a pair of white shorts. it was rather revealing but better than being naked. Strapped tightly to your face was some sort of breathing mask, two long wired tubes connected to the top of the tank, gathering air from the small holes in the lid. 
Why were you in here?
Is this how you die?
Did Gideon make some sort of bargain with the Mandalorian’s?
“78.” an all to familiar voice calls. 
Your head whips around. And there he stood.
He does a quick wave to catch your attention and then formally positions it behind his back again. 
“I bet..” 
 “You’re confused.” 
“and...scared.” he calmly states.
You deadpan him, hoping he get’s that ‘you’re trying to kill him with your eyes.’
 “Well, you have a right to be afraid, none of my other 77 experiment’s survived this particular test.” he admits. 
Ok now you’re freaking out.
Your body begins to thrash in the water by itself, but you quickly became tired, and give up. 
Your eyebrows crease in anger at him. 
He has that stupid victory smile of his on too. 
What an asshole. 
“Release the orb.” he commands one of the guarding troopers. 
With a small plop an orb slowly sinks down your tank. It was a gradient mix of pastel pink and blue. Thin golden stripes graced the exterior of it, creating swirly patterns. Slowly the orb opens, like an egg cracking. A fuchsia pink powder is released into the water. You scream but in the water it only creates bubbles. The last thing you see if Gideon’s smirk before the water turns completely pink, blocking you from seeing anything else. 
Surprisingly your eyes don’t sting, they feel rather comfortable. 
Your heart pounded against your rib cage as you desperately searched for a way out, but there was nothing. No escape from this nightmare. 
Eventually the hot pink powder disappeared into nothing, leaving the water crystal clear again. 
Your breathing was still unstable. 
What did he just do to you?
What was that pink powder?
Did you survive the test?
“Take her out.” someone mumbles. 
the water in your ears seem to muffle up their voices slightly. 
Your mind was dizzy, You just wanted to go home. Wanted to see Din again. Needed to hold Grogu as you fell asleep. 
Slowly the platform your waist was tied to, starts to lift. Your head came out from the surface of the water, followed by the rest of your body. You don’t remember much after that. At some point you were dropped on the floor. Your bones were weak, you could barely walk, your pretty sure two troopers dragged you back to your cell. After that you allowed yourself to fall asleep, you needed it. 
You distinctly remember dreaming about Din. Holding you protectively against that broad chest of his.
Reassuring you everything was fine.
Even though it was not. 
Unfortunately your mind wakes up from it’s daze, and the harsh reality you were currently trapped in flooded any relief you found in your dream-state. Silent tears rolled down your streaked face. What did you do to deserve such a life? You just wanted to live normally;
Live your childhood (which was so violently ripped away from you)
Be a teen
Get drunk
Fall in love
Have kids
Grow old.
And most importantly...
You wanted Din to be a part of all those things. 
You sniffle as a heavy sob wracked your body. 
Get it together. You got yourself into this..
Now you need to get yourself out of it.
You needed to escape. 
You swallow down any other sobs and blink away tears, you could worry about your mental state later. Right now you needed to get out of here, before any other weird ass experiments commenced. 
Think Y/n
You were cuffed to a brick wall with your feet dangling inches away from the ground. 
What to do?
Your brain thought and thought, until eventually....
You had an idea.... but you didn’t want to push yourself too hard, you learnt not to do that the hard way. 
You could potentially try to change the cuffs into... sand, just like you changed that crate on the Crest into a meiloorun. 
You didn’t want to do it, knowing there was the risk of bleeding out again, but it was the only option at this point... 
and so you got to work. 
First you tried to centre your mind. It was rather difficult with all the troopers marching up and down the hall outside, weapons clinking together along with their footsteps. Eventually you managed to quiet down your raging thoughts. Turning your mind..
Then, you focused on the feeling of the hand cuffs against your supple skin. How they dug into you, and more importantly, how it would feel when they crumbled to floor, in the form of sand. You took a moment to rest on that thought. Cold sand soothing the irritated skin on your wrists... until
Your thoughts...
Became reality.
Chrome metal cuffs softened until small grains of sand rolled down your arms... and your feet... touched the ground. You were free... and the only thing left behind of your escape, was a pile of sand on the inky black tiles. You can’t help but smile at your success, you were truly turning out to be quite the escape artist. 
However....Your success was short lived.
What the hell were you going to do now?
You could take out a few troopers and potentially take one of their guns and shoot your way out?
No. That was too risky
Ooh! You could - no, too predictable
You groan in frustration and rub your tired head. That powder probably took an effect on you, for all you know you could be hallucinating, still knocked out in that tank. Maker you hoped not. 
Maybe... you could find some sort of technology to communicate with Din- no - Cara, she could get you out of here. Yeah, and you will only take out troopers if they see you, that would be smarter. 
And within moments, you finalised your plan, and you were ready to start it. 
Cara was just in the middle of dealing with an angry citizen on Nevarro when an anonymous transmission came through. At first glance she thought it to be some scam, but when you buzzed her again, she picked up, rather angrily. 
You were overjoyed when you saw your transmission was answered. 
A light blue light sparked to life. At first it glitched but over a few seconds the hologram managed to maintain a steady picture of the ex-shock trooper. “Who the hell is this? And I swear if you’re calling to sell me someth-.... Y/n?!” Cara shouts, shock evident in her voice. “Shh, keep it down! Cara I need help.” You whisper. The woman raises a brow. “Where are you... and where’s Mando?” She whispers back, sensing the distress in your voice. “Mando.....Mando is... busy, I’m on an imperial spacecraft, Gideon is here... please I need to get out of here!” You make sure to say your plead louder than the rest of your sentence. 
After a moment of consideration, which seemed to go on for hours, Cara finally nods. “You’ll be out of there by tonight... you have my word.” she honourably replies. You nod and thank her before cutting off the transmission and hot-wiring it so it wasn’t trackable. Now you just had to wait, and not get caught. 
After a few hours, things started to get stressful. 
Not for you.
For the empire.
Troopers were rushing everywhere
alarms went off and...
You’re pretty sure you even saw Gideon in distress and maker it was so blissful to see him in such a state, after what he had put you through. 
You couldn’t help but wonder what was happening..
Why they were so stressed. 
A few ideas had crossed your mind, but none of them prepared you for what you saw next.... or rather who. 
Covered from head to toe in chrome coloured beskar armour. Chest heaving from the amount of imperials he must’ve killed. 
Why did she send Din after you?! You called Cara for a fucking reason!
His voice was just as kriffing soothing as you remembered it, dreamt of it. 
You prepare yourself to sprint, not wanting to get mixed up in the mess with the Mandalorian’s and the chaos again but Din reads your mind. 
“Y/n please! Please don’t run!” He urgently says, arm out in front of him as if there were an invisible rope in front of him that would pull you closer, if he caught it. “I’m sorry.... Cyare, I know your scared but you have to come back, please.” he practically begs. You felt unshed tears prick the edge of your eyes once more. This could not be happening. “I just cause chaos, if the Mandalorian’s see you with me... maker you could loose you creed!” you breathe out. “It’s probably best if we don’t see each other again.” You try your best to keep your voice sharp and to the point, but it falters.
  Din could see how much you needed to be comforted... how scared you were... but not of the covert.... of what you would do to him and his relationship with the covert. 
“Mesh’la please! I promise we will sort this out!” he practically yells this time, voice still laced in a comfort you will never get used to. “How do you know that?” you sob out. ‘Know that everything will turn out?!” you cry this time. Din takes a cautious step closer and calmly as ever replies with “Because they always do.”
The moment you were on board the Crest you were relieved. 
Relieved from the tension of being caught 
But it was quickly replaced with a new tension, being with Din was.... awkward to say the very least. 
You spent most of the time in hyperspace fiddling with the small strings of the white shorts the empire gave yo- Fuck! Realisation hits you like a brick in the gut. You were still half naked! Heat quickly flushed your cheeks and your hands immediately flew to your exposed stomach. This earns a slight chuckle from Din. “You finally noticed, huh?” He comments, clearly amused. You can’t reply when he is talking again. “I put you some clothes on your bunk, you will have some privacy down there.” he admits, helmet never turning to you. “T-Thanks.” He nods in acknowledgment and you make your way into the hull of the Crest. 
As promised, neatly folded on the bed, were a pile of clothes.
It was nothing special. 
An oversized top, with some black tights to go with it.
As quickly as possible you strip down (not that there was much to strip out of) and put on the new clothes. Warmth immediately hugged you, your other clothes were wet still, this was heaven compared to them. 
When you climbed back into the cockpit again, Din had put the Crest on autopilot and he was turned so that he faced your empty seat. Silently, you sat on the cushioned chair, his gaze never left yours. 
It was so quiet. Quiet enough you swore you heard his modulator pick up on his breathing. So you decide to break it. 
“Will you kill me?” 
Din almost chokes on nothing right then and there. Kill you? Was that what you thought he would do because his covert thinks your some crazy witch?
“What?! Kriff no!”
Again, silence. 
“Am I....Am I a ... lilac wi-”
“I don’t know anymore.” came his deep voice. 
A few tears fall free. Why are you crying? What’s to cry about? 
“I’m sorry.” the words fall from your mouth before you can even process you were saying them. 
Din helmet tilts up to you slowly. 
“For what?” 
And now you’re properly crying. 
“Running......Just messing everything up.” you sob, salty tears stinging your tongue. 
“You didn’t mess everything u-” Din is cut off. 
“Yes I did! You don’t have to sugarcoat things to make me feel better!” You practically yell this time. 
Din couldn’t take this anymore. 
Slowly the Mandalorian stalked closer to you until he was arms length. “Mesh’la. I am not sugarcoating anything from you.” He whispers, visor making direct contact with your eyes. 
His arm outstretches to to touch yours, in a comforting manner. 
When the pads of his gloved fingers make contact with your arm he’s thrown half way across the room, whilst you were blown harder into the chair. You grunt in pain along with the Mandalorian. 
“Dank Farrick!” Din curses as he get’s up to check on you. 
“Are you alright?!” you both say it at the same time, it would’ve been funny if you didn’t just throw Din into a wall, like beskar weighed nothing. 
Weirdly Din grabs your wrist and twists it in his large hand, inspecting it. 
Wait! Was that the wrist that had the tattoo?! Fuck! You hadn’t told Din anything about that. 
But, despite seeing the tattoo.... Din’s focus seemed to be...elsewhere on your wrist.
His thumb gently traces over one particular vein. “What are you doing?” you question curiosity getting the best of you. 
“What happened when you were with Gideon?” he asks, completely dismissing your question. His voice was oddly...agitated. 
Should you tell him about the pink powder? 
There was no reason why you shouldn’t tell him.
But something.... some instinct... told you not to tell him... and so you didn’t. 
“Nothing happened, they just took my top and pants off to.... make me cold as a form of... torture?” Your not sure why you lifted your voice at the end to make it a question, but you know he saw right through your lies. 
“Don’t lie to me, Y/n.” He firmly states. 
“Your a terrible liar, and I know for a fact that that’s buruk powder, that sent me flying across the ship.” 
Buruk powder?
He must be talking about that hot pink powder that was dropped into the tank. 
You shiver at the memory. You were so scared and confused then. 
“How do you know it was the powder that threw you away from me?” You shyly whisper. 
“Because... there was a dark pink liquid going through the veins on your wrist after I was thrown.” 
“Buruk powder is pink.” he states. 
“Why didn’t you tell me you were exposed to it?” 
You sigh. 
“I didn’t know how to say it, I was confused, Still am confused, I can’t decipher my dreams from reality anymore, and my head hurts, I don’t know if it’s the powder doing it, and I just..... I don’t know anymore... I’m so lost.” 
Din would’ve cupped your cheek or something... but he didn’t want to be thrown into a wall again. So he settled with words... something he was never good at using. 
“I know how you feel.” he whispers. 
Your eyes meet with his glossy black visor. 
“I know you just feel empty, you feel so small, cyare I know, the world feels so heavy... but I just want you to know you have someone to pull you back from that empty pit, to make you feel whole... because I’ve been where you are and I know what it’s like when there’s no one by your side to help you.” he whispers soothingly.  
You can’t help but cry at his sweet statement. 
“T-Thanks Din.” you say through heavy sobs. 
Fuck you wanted to hug him so bad. 
But you couldn’t. 
Instead of making full contact he just holds your hand through the whole thing. Giving you the reassurance you craved so badly with the imperials. 
When you calmed down from your outburst you hesitantly ask Din what buruk powder actually was, and what the hell you were exposed to. 
As expected, Din was silent for a moment before replying.
“There are three buruk substances.” he starts. 
“The first one is the weakest one, it is the colour of grey, and it comes in the form of a liquid. This substance can create portals to other dimensions when it has a body.... the second substance is strong but not as strong as the third. It is the colour purple and it comes in the form of a gas. It has the power to control time and manipulate minds.... and finally, the third substance is the most powerful. It has the power to manipulate anyone’s mind, and it could rewrite reality of the entire world. It’s a very scary stone and it comes in the form of powder, a hot pink powder.” 
You shiver. 
You were exposed to the most powerful one. 
“But..” He says. 
“We have to get the powder out of you as quickly as possible, the substances are too strong for any human being to take, it will drain your life force if we don’t get it out of you soon... the only reason you were able to absorb it was because it chose you as a host body.” 
That’s why all the 77 other experime- people died, like Gideon said. 
It was all coming together now. 
“We have to bring you to my covert, they will know how to get it out of you.”
Buruk = Dangerous
Cyare = Sweetheart/Darling
Mesh’la = Beautiful
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rexxdjarin · 7 months
Captain's Log: Chapter 9
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Series Summary: The galaxy is in turmoil. The Republic has fallen, giving rise to the sinister reign of the totalitarian Empire, led by the insidious Emperor Palpatine. The millions of valiant clone troopers of the former Grand Army of the Republic are now blindly sworn, against their will, to protect a regime they once sought to destroy. After being saved from a terrible fate by his former-Jedi ally and close friend, Ahsoka Tano, seasoned veteran CT-7567 Clone Captain Rex remains loyal to the pillars of Democracy, freedom and truth that shaped the former Galactic Republic. We follow him now struggling to deal with the personal aftereffects of survival and finding his place in the galaxy alongside the only person he has left. You. The love of his life.
[previous] [next] part of Captain's Log series post on ao3
Pairing: Captain Rex x Fem!Reader (she/her pronouns used) Word Count: 15k (I know I'm sorry lol) Series Rating: Explicit (18+ only, Minors DO NOT INTERACT) Chapter Summary: Our dynamic duo becomes a trio. Surprising help from the inside reveals that some clones haven't forgotten where their true loyalties lie while others cannot help what they've become or how far they'll go. Chapter Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content, Smut, p in v sex (use protection irl plz), sub!Reader, soft!dom Rex, Daddy!Rex if you squint, Language, Violence and Interrogation Tactics, Political References and Propaganda Mentions, References to Canon Plot, Political References, Canon Typical Violence
The ship’s docking tube door hisses open and through the fog steps Rex and his heavy plodding blue and white boots. I exhaled a deep breath I didn’t even know I was holding and pushed myself off the wall I was leaning on, arms folded and hips leaning to one side.
He’d only been gone a couple of hours, meeting up with Cid at her Cantina to get some supplies and waiting for our new crew member to arrive for pickup. But even in those few hours, I worried about him. Anything can happen planetside these days. I didn’t like the idea of having to sit around waiting for him, but someone had to stay hidden with the ship and Cid wouldn’t trust anyone but another clone to hand this kind of intel off to.
As the fog of coolants at different temperatures mixed in the air, Rex’s smirking face appeared, a flicker of warmth in his big brown eyes as if he was staring at dappled sunlight. A spark to him I hadn’t seen in such a long time spread immediate joy through my bloodstream, through every nerve ending, my heart bursting and pounding something that can only be described as love sickness throughout my entire body. 
Before I could walk forward to embrace him and kiss him so hard it knocked the wind out of him, a second nearly identical silhouette passed by him inside our cargo hold. The clone we were sent to pick up was a brother whose name I didn’t recognize. Wasn’t at all familiar.
Gregor. A clone commando. 
Well ex-clone commando now. Not even sure if Rex was all that familiar with him. 
He stood upright in the doorway, just a tad taller than Rex. Maybe it was the commando boots. He had jet black hair, buzzed almost as short as Rex on the sides, but long and slicked back on top. His eyes looked just a twinge lighter like he’d previously been somewhere that bathed them in a harsh sun’s glare all the time. He had high cheekbones and a chiseled jaw, just like they all did. But something about him…he was almost dashing in a way. Stepping into the ship, he had a presence about him that could only be attributed to a natural magnetic sex appeal. Would’ve probably given even Fives a run for his credits. He was good looking and, hell, if I could get in contact with any of my friends, I’d set him up with one of them for sure.
His eyes widened and his dark brows raised, cocking his head as if to take me in as some mysterious creature before him. “Well, well, well, Rex…I didn’t know they’d send you with an angel to pick me up.” He said smoothly, running a weighted, heavy palm across the back of his neck.
He came only with the armor on his back, which seemed to be incomplete, no shoulder pauldrons, nothing lining his biceps and not a stitch of color expertly painted atop the plastoid. Not even a helmet. It looked odd. The new Imperial clone armor was truly inferior in every way to the artfully crafted and beautifully unique Republic armor I’d come to know and love. Yet another way to erase their individuality, their comradery and their humanity, I suppose. 
The simmering amber in Gregor’s eyes met mine and he squinted in playful, flirtatious amusement. He’d done this before and something tells me his success rate was high. Very high. Rex cleared his throat to subtly remind his brother to watch himself. Was he a little jealous? “With a mouth like hers? Trust me, she’s definitely not an angel.” He replied with a filthy, taunting smirk. That’s a definite, yes.
Since meeting up with the Bad Batch on Bracca, Rex had become more domineering, needy and watchful over me than he ever had been. Not that I could blame him. The deep-seeded feeling of tremendous loss made him want to hold me close and practically mark his territory over me in a way he ordinarily wouldn’t have before. And I didn’t hate it. Not at all. The possessiveness made heat lick down my spine and smolder in my belly. I guess no longer having to keep things a quiet secret to save our own asses brought out a desire to be shown off in both of us.
I raked my gaze down Rex’s wide frame, wondering if he’d somehow gotten even better looking than he was a few hours ago. “Hmm and if you want anything from this mouth again I suggest you watch it.” I teased, winking at him knowingly. A proud, determined and hungry glimmer darkened his pupils at such a retort and he retreated, licking his lips as he hoisted the bag on his shoulder down to the floor at my feet. 
Gregor let out a slightly hoarse and lilted nervous giggle. “Oh, I see. I did not peg you for the committed type, Rex.” 
“That’s funny. He was awfully committed to getting something out of me the last time I saw him.” I immediately let out a teasing giggle to match Gregor’s. Rex mouth dropped open to speak or protest my boldness, but he was clapped on the shoulder by Gregor. 
Gregor tilted his head back and laughed, “Maker- what a woman. I like her.” 
Rex nodded, rolling his eyes at me in surrender and taking in a deep breath, “I’m glad you like her. Even when she’s getting a bit out of hand.” He joked, walking past me to follow Gregor and taking the opportunity to grab a nice handful of my ass. Oh yeah, so out of hand.
I’d been comming him the filthiest thoughts and sounds directly over our secret channel to pass the time the best way I knew how. Rex and I had both been practically insatiable for days since we’d left Naboo. Something about the promise of inevitable death that really made us both want to be together as much as possible while we still could. Though now with a virtual stranger on board with us, there probably wouldn’t be as much time for that as we both wanted.
I followed Rex and Gregor up the ladder to our cockpit, taking Rex’s hand and sliding onto his lap as we got as cozy in the cabin as was possible for the three of us. I could feel Rex’s thighs flexing under me, a tell tale sign that he had certainly not forgotten my messages from earlier, his cock thickening beneath his codpiece. I turned to glare at Rex, apologizing for firing him up so badly in front of company neither of us were too familiar with. He curled his massive hand around my thigh, glancing up at me with an unbothered look he was desperately hoping was convincing enough to hide the blown out lust in his darkened pupils. 
He was always a terrible liar. I knew him well enough that I could always tell when he was worked up past the point of being able to think straight. 
Gregor watched us both with a smirk on his face, running his hand over his dark hair and kicking his feet up on the dash. “How long’s this been going on for?” He boldly inquired, pointing out the obvious tension in the room. “I had heard a lot about Skywalker’s men when I was being reacquainted on Kamino. You’re some kind of legend, Cap. Guess we clones are not the only ones who noticed.”
“My blondie’s hard to miss.” I joked, running my fingertips through the hair slowly curling around his ear. “Hair’s gotten sorta long. Longer than I ever remember it being.”
He wrapped his hand around mine and tugged me tighter to him, both to hide the growing bulge in his lap and to give him an excuse to hold me. “Want me to cut it?” He offered, his eyes searching my face for unspoken answers, but only finding unfettered lust.
I shook my head, tracing feather light fingertips down the scruff lining his perfect jaw. I hummed in delight, the dangerous seduction darkening my pupils at the sight of my Captain growing more rugged by the day. “No. Keep it long. This little beard of yours too.” He drew his head back in surprise and chuckled, the hand on my back falling lower to rest on the curve of my ass. I leaned into him closely and traced the shell of his ear with my tongue. “I want you to remember how much I like how it feels.” I whispered seductively.
He gripped my ass hard and cracked his neck, taking a deep breath to disguise the twitching I could feel stirring in him beneath my thighs. He kissed my cheek modestly, before grunting “Later.” in my ear sternly. Between the taunting I’d done all day and the physical teasing I was doing now, I knew I was more than in for it with Rex tonight. Which was exactly what I wanted.
“Can’t say I’ve ever been around too many clones in any relationships…and never one that seems quite this deep.” Gregor acknowledged, watching us with curiosity. “The 501st really is a different breed I guess.”
Rex, feeling me desperately trying to egg him on even more, shrugged me off slightly, trying to pay attention to his brother’s words. “Yeah, probably as good as your commandos, I reckon. My boys were the best and we have the numbers to prove it.” He winced, “Well…had.”
Gregor took a deep breath and swallowed, “I’m sorry about your Squad, Cap. You deserve better. We all do. That’s why I ran. It wasn’t right. I’m thankful for the Bad Batch boys coming to get me. And especially Echo's commitment to me. Said he learned that from you.”
Rex’s face lit up, a proud smirk spreading across his face. “Echo is one of my best. He and I are all that’s left of the 501st now. Glad we could help rescue a good one.”
I shifted uncomfortably in Rex’s lap, the wetness between my thighs and the bulge growing underneath them had me more impatient and antsy to have him inside me than I’d felt in months. Poor Gregor was just trying to settle in and I couldn’t wait even another five seconds. I had to have Rex now. I squeezed Rex’s bicep impatiently, looking up at him with needy desperation filling my eyes. To my delight and relief Gregor sat back in his chair and sighed.
“Thank you both. For everything. I’m-” He yawned, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hands and stretched. “I’m going to get some desperately needed sleep and watch over the ship. I’ll let you both know if anything goes off.” 
I thanked the maker silently, nodding as I leaned into the crook of Rex’s neck. “We should too. See you in a bit. Let us know if you need anything, of course.” I said quietly.
“Yeah we’ll be in our bunk. We’ve got rations on a shelf behind you here and the freshers down in the cargo bay on your left. Get some sleep, soldier. You’ve had a long few days.” Rex stood up, wrapping my legs around his waist and carrying me toward the ladder down to our room.
“Will do, Cap. Will do.” Gregor nodded, closing his eyes and leaning back into the pilot’s chair.
Rex let out a sigh of relief as he slid both of us down the ladder toward our room. “You’re killing me, mesh’la. Can barely fucking think straight I’m so hard.” He groaned, pressing the panel to our room’s blast doors and watching them slide open.
I giggled into his neck, kissing it softly as he spilled us onto our bed. “I’m sorry, Sir. I just can’t help it when I’m around you.” I cooed, my tone dripping with both play innocence and whispered lust. I blinked up at him, biting my bottom lip and pawing at his chest. “Been thinking about having you all day.”
Rex ghosted his hand up under my shirt, “I know. You were determined to make it impossible to get through my mission, you little brat.” He teased, pulling my shirt up over my head and onto the floor beside our bunk. He ran his thumb around my hardened nipple and leaned down to wrap his lips around the bud. “That wasn’t very good of you. Should punish you.” His fingertips slid down to circle my navel.
I let out a shaky exhale, the desperate need for him making my body ache. “If that’s what you think I deserve, Sir.” I whimpered, resting my hands on the nape of his neck and softly stroking the growing length of the soft blonde curls there. I was trembling as his warm tongue circled over the bud repeatedly, goosebumps erupting on my skin. “I’m…so needy.” I whined, rolling my hips against his thigh.
His eyes darkened at the contact and his hand brushed past the band of the lacey underwear I put on just for him to reveal when he got back. At the feeling of the lace between his fingers, he groaned softly, the warm breath of his exhale cooling over the trail of wet skin his kisses left behind. “I can tell, my naughty girl. You put these on just to drive me even more fucking nuts hmm?” He asked, the scolding tone to his deepening voice sending more warmth pooling up between my folds.
I nodded and tapped on his shoulder pauldron lightly, “and this is driving me crazy. Off. All of it. Please?” I asked, “I want to see you too.”
He sat up and pulled my hips into his lap, slowly removing each piece of armor and making me watch as he did it, the armor clattering onto the floor beside our bunk. I bit down on my forefinger, swirling my tongue around it as I imagined it was him between my lips instead. He nearly tore the top of his blacks off his back and smiled, smirking as my eyes roved over his torso hungrily.
He leaned over me carefully, his fingertip trailing up my torso to hold my chin as he leaned in to kiss me tenderly. His tongue slipped past my lips and twirled with mine in endless looping shapes. I looped my arms over his shoulders and gripped his rippling back muscles, his free hands smoothing down my sides. “There…you see me. Now I want to see you.” He whispered against my lips as he pulled away.
He sat back on his haunches, tearing my panties down my thighs and practically growling at the sight of me completely bare before him. “Been a filthy fucking girl all day.” He shifted closer, pushing my thighs apart around him with his hands. Slowly, his thumb slid down my folds, collecting the wetness and circling my opening. “Look how fucking wet you are. Unnf…you feel so fucking good. Don’t think I have it in me to punish you when you feel this good.”
I rolled my hips forward, desperate for more of his touch where I was craving it all day. “I didn’t touch myself all day. I waited for you. Because I need you.” I smiled, reaching out for him and grabbing onto his free hand. “You’re just so big and strong…I can’t do it like you. I want your cock, not my fingers. Please Rex. Please?” I pouted up at him, circling the back of his hand with my thumb.
He collected my slick on his thumb and brought it between his lips, making direct, almost threatening eye contact with me as he tasted me on his tongue. He huffed out a brutal, unrestrained moan and closed his eyes in delight. “Is that how you beg for me? Hmm? I know I taught you better than that.”
I whined, the coiling pressure that was steadily building in my lower belly all day becoming way too strong to bear at this point. “Please, Captain. Can you fuck me? Please? I need you.” I asked, correcting myself as politely as I could muster, “I’ve wanted you all day and I can’t take it anymore.”
He chuckled softly, “That’s my mesh’la. Much better.” Pride sparkled in his darkening amber eyes, the irises shrinking as the lust expanded his pupils. He leaned forward slightly, sliding the bottoms of his black body glove off his legs and with one hand, began twisting soft pressured circles against my clit with the pad of his thumb. “I think you’ve suffered enough without me all day, haven't you?” He cocked an eyebrow at me, expecting a response.
“Mhm. Been aching all day. Need you to make it better, Sir.” I muttered softly, rolling my hips toward him more trying to force him to press harder, work faster. Anything to get a bigger burn going to counteract the painful pounding swelling in my core. “I’ll be good. Anything you want, my love, anything.”
He twisted looping circles on my clit faster and harder, giving into what I asked for. With his other hand, he stroked up the length of his cock, throbbing with need I’d been responsible for all day. He pumped it in his hand, sliding the drops of precum from the tip down the shaft. My eyes went wide at the sight of him, hoping desperately that he’d just spear me with it and finally end the brutal ache inside me.
I moaned as the pleasure began building at his touch, my eyes fluttering closed as the sparks of pleasure ignited. When I opened them again, Rex had brought his length down to just above my parted legs, sliding himself between my drenched folds and tipping his head back in ecstasy. He moaned from deep in his broad chest, letting his hands travel up my thighs and holding them for leverage as he slipped himself against me.
“Is that good, Rex?” I asked teasingly, egging him on more than I should when he was in charge. He opened his eyes, the sound of his name snapping him back to reality. He winked at me before slapping the throbbing tip against my clit roughly. My mouth dropped open and I gasped, the rush of pleasure too much too soon.
“Ah, ah. What are you supposed to call me?” He instructed, lifting himself off of me again and waiting for my correct response before granting me any semblance of pleasure again. His weighted palms gripping the meat of my thighs felt just as good as him touching my center in the overexcited state I’d been in all day.
I gulped and drew in a deep breath, meeting his eyes with my own to address him properly. “Captain or Sir.” I responded with a mewl, biting down on the back of my knuckle to help contain myself enough to behave.
He returned his cock to the warmth between my folds and guided the tip deeper within them, circling my opening with the weeping, swollen tip. “That’s better. Now flip over, cyar’ika. Gonna take you how I want to remind you what happens when you don’t behave.”
I nodded and obeyed his command, rolling myself over and lifting my ass high up in the air to give him better access. “Like this, Captain?” I wiggled my ass playfully, and looked back at him glaring at me like he was ready to pounce.
His palm met the plush of my ass with a swift slap and I yelped at the sting, the delightful pain a distraction from the burning pressure inside me begging to be dealt with. “Yeah, just like that. Show me that pretty pussy you got all wet for me. No waiting anymore, pretty girl. Need to feel you all around me now, ok?”
“Okay, Captain. Anything you want. I need you too. Inside me, please.” I begged, watching him from over my shoulder and giving him the subtle permission he had asked for to just skip all the foreplay and start in on me now. My knees were trembling more from the anticipation than from the position they were in to hold me up.
Suddenly, both his palms gripped my hip bones and pulled my ass toward his lower torso. He kneaded my ass in his hands and growled loudly, the unbridled lust finally breaking the last bit of control he had left to hold him back. With a deep breath in and back out, he lined himself up to my fluttering hole and pressed himself inside slowly. I moaned loudly, curling my fingers into the sheets as the size of him stretched me open the way I had needed since he left me hours earlier.
In a quick jerk, Rex’s massive hand pressed into my lower belly, tucking my hips up and back into his and letting out a delighted hiss. “Fuuuuuck…feel that? How I fill you up so good? Right there, mesh’la. So fucking deep.” He grunted as he rested his hand onto where his cock pressed deep into my belly. It felt so good I could barely breathe and I shut my eyes to let the overwhelming feeling of fullness wash over me.
“Rex…” I cried out a choked gasp, tears starting to stream down my face from the feeling of him piercing into me so powerfully. He pinned me down beneath all the weight of his rock hard muscles and mouthed passionate kisses up my spine. His cock consumed every empty inch of me, the blood in his veins pumping into him so hard I could feel the race of his pulse pounding against my walls. It was an erotic euphoria unlike any other I’d ever experienced and it wasn’t stopping.
With each shallow withdrawal of his hips, the muscles inside me screwed tighter, gripping onto him and the feeling he provided for dear life. He could barely bring himself to pull out, the grind of his hips pressing him deeper within me felt too good to stop. He curled his arm around the plush of my hips and ghosted his fingertips in twisting circles against my throbbing clit. 
His other palm curled around my neck, turning my face to meet where his hovered lazily over my shoulder. He leaned forward to bite my lower lip softly and open my mouth to let his tongue slip inside. Hot exhales and dripping tongues filled the minimal space between us and he smirked devilishly at the desperate haze of lust overtaking me. “Keep that pretty mouth open for me. Don’t want anything stopping me from hearing those sounds you make. Does my cock make you feel good? Tell me mesh’la. Talk to me gorgeous girl…”
“Yes, Sir, it’s s-so good.” I whined as his harsh thrusts slowed, but his hips circled against my ass and sent the blunt tip prodding into a beautifully sensitive spot. I felt sparks of pleasure zip through my core and my vision blurring as the numbing flow radiated outward in surges. “I love it, I fucking love it. More- please, Captain, please more.” 
“That’s my good girl, fuck- asking me so nice…” He whispered harshly in my ear, his grip on my throat holding me close to him, the scruff on his jaw brushing my cheeks a welcomed burn. I couldn’t control my muscles anymore, my walls contracting around him and my opening fluttering around him to pull him deeper. “Stars, mesh’la you feel so fucking good, you’re gonna drain me. Is that what you want? You can have it…fuuuuck- anything you want I’ll give it to you.”
“I want…need you to fill me. Please come in me, Rex. I want to feel it in me tomorrow.” I turned to look up at him through lust heavy lids and moaned his name as he took me apart thrust by thrust, giving me only a harsh grunt and several aching whines in response. Each jolt of his hips plowed me deeper and deeper into the mattress beneath us. He guided his hand down the length of my arm and reached for my hand, my fingers tangling with his and holding tightly.
“I’ll pump this little cunt with everything I have. You deserve it. Want to watch you walk around tomorrow with me dripping down your legs, my filthy pretty girl. Can you do that for me?” His hand around my throat slid up my neck and fisted into my hair, pulling my face up for him to grip. “I know you can. You’re such a sexy little show off. Makes me so proud to call you mine.”
My eyes rolled back at the pure possession that was him claiming me like this. I dug my fists into the sheets underneath me, holding on for dear life as I braced myself to let him completely overtake me. The throbbing of his cock inside me was stuttering against my vice grip around him, letting me know just how close he was to spilling all of himself. He grunted loudly, huffing in deep, almost gasping breaths and plowing three bone-shattering thrusts down into me. 
My entire body shifted so far up the mattress I wouldn’t have been shocked if his strength had knocked the ship clear out of its path in the hyperspace lane. I let out a high pitched cry, as the brutal pressure that was built up in my core burst. “REX!” I moaned loudly, a beautifully blissful numbness blooming outwards slowly and tightening around him so much he moaned too.
“Mesh’la…that’s it. Let go.” He cooed in my ear, kissing up my neck as the wave of my high just kept coming stronger and stronger. My body tensed as the tingling feeling cascaded across all my limbs and all I could actually feel was where Rex and I met. His fingers affectionately tangled with mine and our centers joined while he maintained his brutal pace, desperately chasing after my high toward his own. “Let me see that pretty face when you come for me.”
I could feel his eyes exploring my face as it contorted in pleasure; my lips dropped open, my jaw slack, eyes closed and brows lifted. His fervent whispers of loving encouragement mixed with enduring curses of tortured ecstacy as he sent me hurtling past the point of climax and into uncharted territory. It felt like everything slowed but the pounding in my core and the prodding of Rex’s cock to meet it. My body writhed underneath him, his free hand holding my waist steady and carrying me through it.
With a few more solid thrusts deep inside me, I felt his warmth flow into the uncoiling heat in my belly. Rex’s grip on my waist loosened as he emptied himself in me, my ears filling with sounds of our wet, sticky climaxes mixing together. His cock twitched at least three times, followed by white hot ribbons of his spend painting my inner walls. His gruff moans in my ear faded to exhausted whimpers as his climax explosively ripped through him. 
The sound of him moaning my name filled my ears as bright spots of static clouded my vision. He was all around me, inside and out, wreaking havoc on my overtired body. I laid underneath him, spasming in the undertow of both of our hardest climaxes ever and panting loudly. Rex was peppering soft kisses up and down my neck and jaw, his fingertips tracing slow, loving touches on my skin. I was barely holding on, the blissful exhaustion dragging me closer and closer to unconsciousness.
“I…love you…” I whisper, closing my eyes and feeling myself go under as I started to catch my breath, but too tired to move a single inch. Just as I felt myself drifting away happily, all my muscles slack and relaxed I felt him roll over beside me, tucking my body into his. He hummed so soft and deep, full of warm contentment and he muttered,
“And I love you, my mesh’la. So very much.”
I woke up to the dark, lofty silence of our bunk. We must’ve been drifting for hours in deep hyper space, heading back toward the inner rim waiting for Cid to give us coordinates for another job.
Rex’s warm body rested beside mine, his arms and legs clutching me tightly, never wanting to let go of me after going at each other like that. The intensity of our orgasms this time around was so stunning I wasn’t sure if either of us would even remember how to move.
But fuck, I had to pee. And maybe I should check on Gregor.
Slowly, I rolled over Rex, my legs straddling his still very naked thighs and resting my chest on his. I looked up at him snoozing away, his strong jaw finally unclenched for once and his plump lips drawn in a very satisfied permagrin. Yeah, he was very, very happy. How could he not be?
I reached over and kissed his cheek very delicately, taking extreme caution not to wake him. After how hard he’d gone, he needed a deep sleep to recuperate. I brushed my fingers along the curling blonde hair on his temples and grinned. He was so beautiful and handsome and passionate and strong. 
And he was mine. No matter what.
I slowly swung my legs over the side of the bunk, testing my ability to stand as I gingerly pressed my feet on the chilly metal floor. I wobbled a bunch, very nearly falling onto my face, before I gripped the bed behind me and chuckled softly. Damn Rex for going so hard. My inner thighs were practically creaking with soreness as I walked into the refresher to pee. I examined my thighs and smiled at the finger shaped bruises dotting my hips and waist. They’d match Rex’s exact grip like perfect puzzle pieces. Wouldn’t be surprised if he’d left his fingerprints the bruises felt that deep.
I took a deep breath and stood up, splashing water on my face and smoothing my hair down. Gregor didn’t need to see just how much Rex had demolished me. I pulled Rex’s red fatigues top from where it hung on the bathroom wall and slipped it on over my head, the length of it long enough to hide the small sleep shorts I slid on underneath them. I giggled and blushed thinking of how taken aback Gregor would be comparing what I looked like now to how I did when he first met me.
Speaking of him, I could hear someone humming through the echoes of the ship and smiled to myself. It was so comforting, the melodic tone deep and resonating inside the metal hull. I opened the refresher door and headed up the ladder peaking into the small cockpit. 
Gregor was laying back in the pilot’s chair, feet crossed up on the dash and his arms locked behind his head. He’d taken off his armor, the white plastoid piled in a heap on the floor behind the co-pilot’s seat. He seemed more at peace here than he’d probably been in months. Which I was about to disturb.
“Your voice is nice.” I muttered, pulling myself up into the cockpit and making my way over to the co-pilot’s seat. He turned toward me and opened his bright brown eyes slowly. His gaze widened as he saw the state of me and he grinned with knowing amusement.
“Thanks. Needed some way to block out the noise.” He chuckled softly, arching an eyebrow and shaking his head to himself. He watched with mock disapproval as my face blushed seven shades deeper than it was.
“I’m…so sorry. We just-” I coughed, tucking my knees up into my chest and folding my arms over them. “How much did you hear?” I asked, hiding my face behind my arms to avoid the embarrassment of knowing we were definitely heard.
“Plenty.” He huffed, fiddling with the edges of his black underweave top and raising his brows suggestively at me. “You animals.” He joked, getting way too much enjoyment out of my utter mortification.
“We aren’t used to sharing our ship, you know.” I retorted, tossing one of his plastoid gauntlet plates at him. He laughed, catching the piece with ease and waving away the shame and shrugging.
“Don’t worry about it. I’m used to hearing it. Maybe not quite that intense, but…” He pointed out, running his hands through his hair and quieting his giggling. “Won’t make fun or get in the way. Just warn a guy first.”
I shot him an apologetic and thankful smile, cuddling deeper into Rex’s top and inhaling the warm, musky smell of him all around me. Before I could ask Gregor something else to change the subject he spoke again.
“How do you know..?” Gregor asked slowly, trailing off and gazing out the transparisteel starshield at the cosmos he was still more than grateful to see. His light brown eyes blinked slowly, sighing as he fiddled with his hands in his lap. Sure, this particular brother was really very charming and handsome and smooth, but what he was asking was the same thing they all asked about. Love. 
What was it like? When do you know you feel it? How can you ever know when someone is yours?
“Oh…when did I know…it was him?” I replied, lifting my head from where it rested on my knees and back up toward Gregor.
“Yeah…h-how do you know when you’re in love like that? When did you feel that with my brother?” He asked, the careful longing words of a man who had probably never felt anything like what Rex and I had before.
I remembered it vividly. The lack of answers. From his comm, from the holonet, from Fox, from anyone I asked. Zygerria. That’s when I knew. 
“It was during a mission. A long one. Rex left for the Kadavo system, I didn’t know the details. He couldn’t or wouldn’t tell me. No news, good or bad, for nearly two full rotations. No one knew if he was alive or dead.” I shuddered as I recalled the few chilling details I’d managed to coax out of him.
Gregor’s eyes explored the changes in my body language, studying what realizing one was in love looked like.
“He was in an enslavement processing facility with General Kenobi. They tortured him. I know because I saw the scars. He couldn’t hide those. Not from me. I’d never seen injuries like that.” I gulped, still able to feel the scarring and his electrically burned skin under my fingertips. “But he came home to me. He ran to my apartment as soon as he could. Ran. He was in pain physically and mentally. Yet, I was all he thought about. I hugged him so tight I could feel his heart beating so fast. I just knew. The way we held each other. He’s everything to me. I would’ve taken that torture for him.”
“You’d do that? For a clone?” Gregor asked incredulously, like he’d never met a natural born person who had ever shown him that kind of equal care and treatment. I wasn’t surprised, but it still made me sad nonetheless.
“For a man.” I corrected, meeting his gaze with the same fierce one I showed during Senate meetings toward any of the life forms who dubbed them as less than human. “The man I love. That fear I felt not knowing where he was, if he was ok. I knew then that he was special. I wasn’t afraid that he couldn’t handle anything that came at him. I was afraid that he’d never make it back to learn how I felt. The second I started thinking about the kind of life I wanted to give him, the things I wanted for him before I worried about myself…I love him, Gregor.”
He looked out into hyperspace for a long time, quietly mulling over my words in his head. He didn’t speak, just adjusted in his chair and focused on breathing. Finally, he turned to me and huffed softly, “you’re the nicest nat born I’ve ever met. Didn’t know anyone outside the GAR talked about us clones like that. Like we matter. Thanks for that.”
I smiled and rested my hand on his forearm, the black duraweave fabric slick and new, like he hadn’t been in this piece long. Maybe it was new. But he didn’t look like a shiny or talk like one. Whatever happened to him, wherever he came from…he’d seen things. Enough to come to the realizations he had. “Don’t thank me for doing the bare minimum. It’s just the right thing to do.”
He smirked and shook his head, exploring my face like he might vaguely remember me from somewhere. “You’re really good for him, you know. He’s a soldier. A fucking great one, probably one of our best. He’d go down for what he believes in, to save others, if he didn’t have you. And he deserves better than a soldier’s life. We all do or…did. If we do come across others. If we want to convert some more defectors, the two of you are a pretty good promise of what life could be like if you leave the Empire, if you leave fighting behind.”
“I don’t think Rex will ever stop being a soldier. And I don’t think I will ever stop loving him for it. We both are as committed to the fight as we are to each other. I did work for the Senate, you know.”
“Men show you what they’re made of when they’re facing certain death.” Gregor giggled nervously, turning back to where Rex was sleeping down below us. “He won’t admit it. But Rex is braver than most, even amongst clones. In a way, death is the easier option. He endured pain and torture because surviving honored his loyalty to you. I’m not surprised. He’s…different. I don’t get why he never made Commander.”
“He did. Before…”
“Oh. That wasn’t in his file. Guess it never fully went through huh?”
“No. Let’s just say he’s lucky the Force is looking out for him.” I said, knowing full well I meant Ahsoka. About Rex mentioning how much he worried about her. I didn’t blame him. If things were as bad out there as they seemed, I hoped she had gone far away from the Empire’s presence. As far away as you could go.
“The Force isn’t the only one looking after him.” Gregor said suddenly, leaning over to dig in his bag for something. He pulled out a datapad and tapped into what looked like the Imperial holonet, his credentials luckily still working.
“What do you mean? Someone else inside knows he’s alive?” I asked, frantically running through every possible person in either of our lives who might have an inkling that we had survived. “Who?”
Gregor pulled up Rex’s file on the Imperial network, the same one Tech helped Rex and I hack into a few rotations ago. He was listed as missing in action, but presumed dead and the entire Siege of Mandalore wiped from his record. He was still Captain Rex, not Commander.
“Don’t know. But someone is covering his tracks. I know Rex said Senator Organa pulled a few strings for you, but I don’t think he’d be able to access military records. This had to be another clone.”
“Someone who knows Rex well enough to want to help him. That’s only a handful of brothers.” I stood up to grab the datapad that Tech gave us and walked directly into a groggy Rex. He had stripped down to only his black bottoms, with nothing covering the width of his rippling chest. I smirked remembering exactly why he was so tired and naked right now. His arms looped around my back and he nuzzled his face into my neck. “Did I tire you out, Captain?” I giggled, caressing the nape of his neck.
“Yes, mesh’la. How are you not exhausted?” He chuckled, placing soft kisses along my jaw as I let him lift me off my feet. He pulled back, staring at where Gregor sat waiting expectedly to finish our conversation. Rex smiled sheepishly, before setting me down and leaning on the arm of the pilot’s chair next to where I sat. “Sorry Gregor, what’s going on?”
Gregor giggled, flipping the datapad his direction and placing it in Rex’s hands. “One of our brothers has been cleaning up after you, Rex. Any ideas who?” Gregor ran his hand over his dark hair and down his chest, unclasping his armor.
Rex’s eyes glossed over the info on screen, his other hand thoughtfully scratching through the facial hair growing along his jaw. He hummed, tapping through the screens on the datapad and searching for any CT numbers who might’ve signed off on it.
I rested my head on his bicep, my eyes darting between his handsome, pensive face and the seemingly unlimited information at his fingertips now. Someone was looking out for us. One of the clones we probably both knew somehow. In my heart, I hoped it was Fox. I missed my friend. Bringing him caf in the morning, venting to him when I was missing Rex while he was gone, the numerous times he’d sent a Coruscant Guard detail to walk me home from a late night at the Senate building. I missed him so much and hoped he was alright.
“There’s nothing to indicate a clone has touched this, which meant they weren’t supposed to be doing this. It’s possible whoever this is has either removed the chip or is coming to their senses. They might want to get out. Maybe this is a sign?” Rex asked out loud, looking between Gregor and I for responses.
“Not sure I’d go that far, but you’re not wrong. These were changed against protocol. Any men of yours with a certain knack for breaking rules?” Gregor asked, subtly hinting to Rex that he absolutely read up on the 501st and their reputation for wreaking havoc to get results.
“All the men I really knew are gone, Gregor. I buried what was left of Torrent Company myself. The rest of the 501st serves the Empire now. I already checked. Every night I look up the names of every brother I can ever remember fighting with me. Most are only referred to as numbers now.” He sighed deeply, looking down at his boots and handing the datapad back to Gregor. “They’d consider me a traitor even if they did care I was alive. It’s not anyone from the 501st.”
“What about Fox?” I asked, watching Gregor’s eyes widen in shock. “He’d definitely notice I was missing from the Senate and go looking for me. Plus he knows about me and Rex.”
Gregor ran his hands over his face and bit his lip nervously. “I don’t want to scare you, but Fox is not the man you once knew. He works directly under Palpatine now. He was always beside him on our weekly training calls at the facility I escaped from. I don’t think he’d be able to break ranks without being noticed.”
My heart sank. Fox hated the Chancellor more than anyone. More than a few times he’d expressed annoyance at the constant running around and back breaking treatment he was subject to to please the man. Poor Fox always looked brow beaten and absolutely exhausted. I questioned him often, worrying that what he was going through was more than just being overworked. Yet, anytime I pressed him about the cuts or new bruises he wore, he denied any abuse and even lacked any recollection of the events that caused them. If that same Fox was blindly following the Emperor now, then that was indisputable proof that the chips were widespread and working properly at the highest of levels.
Rex felt my demeanor change and nudged my hand with his own, curling our fingers together on his thigh to reassure me. “So if not Fox, then who? Any word on the other major clone commanders? Did they all..?”
“Follow the order? No. Not all of them. Most of them, yes. But there was an issue within the 104th…”
“Wolffe’s men?” Rex asked, turning to look out at the hyperspace lane and calculating something in his mind. Probably trying to recall when the last time was that he saw Wolffe.
“They’re not Wolffe’s men anymore. Wolffe’s gone. Been MIA since the order was issued. Something happened. But Wolffe was one of the few clones who refused the order. He just wouldn’t do it. Last I heard he escaped custody while en route to the Citadel for processing.”
Rex grinned, chuckling softly to himself and sending the humming of his deep voice rippling through me. “Sounds like Wolffe, that stubborn dinii.”
I’d only met Commander Wolffe once. The interaction was…awkward to say the least. He wasn’t soft, supportive and nurturing like Rex was. He was very much the opposite; grumpy, domineering, demanding and closed off. Yet women threw themselves at him, which I wasn’t shy about pointing out. I figured he was too cocky, careless and impersonal. Needless to say, he did not like being stereotyped and cold shouldered me for the rest of the night.
But he had to have something sweet in there. His men worshipped him, his many (many) sexual partners raved about him to anyone who would listen and his General loved him like he was his own son. Rex swore he had a bigger heart than any of them, he just would never admit it.
“Wolffe’s probably in hiding somewhere. Could’ve been him messing around with the GAR records to protect me. He was always a good big brother like that.” Rex finally spoke, squeezing my hand a little tighter as he thought about how his older Commander class brothers took care of him like one of their own. Wolffe especially.
“I suppose. He’s been gone as long as you have though. Not sure his clearance codes would even work anymore. He was going to get reconditioned if he didn’t get away.”
I shuddered. The idea that the Republic consented to reconditioning clones who violated some kind of stupid law made my blood boil. The morally right thing, at least as far as law breaking went, was to send them to prison to answer for what they did. Instead, they erased their memories and reset them like they were a droid with a bad motivator or a starship past its prime. It was dehumanizing and vile. The thought of someone as esteemed, talented and valiant as Commander Wolffe being subject to that. It was just so cruel and unthinkable.
I stroked Rex’s bicep and hummed softly, “Baby? What about Cody?” I sat up, reaching for the pad in Gregor’s hands. “He was your best friend. He would do anything to protect you.” I typed his info into the Imperial database and his file popped up instantly. Yet something about his record was different than the others we looked at. Marshall Commander Cody was still in high command within the Empire. His file included a list of accolades and achievements post-order 66.
“Cody..” Rex sighed, reading the info in his file and cringing. “It says here that he successfully executed the order. He’s as involved in the Empire as any of them.”
“My commando unit worked alongside the 212th. He was the CO we were closest with…last I heard he was arguing with Imperial command about poor strategy. Yeah he was one of them, but he didn’t seem…thrilled to be there.” Gregor thought aloud, looking over mission photos on the pad with me.
While Cody looked menacing and cold in the photos, the look in his eyes told a very different story. He looked dejected, detached, distant, and not at all the driven, focused and charming commander we all knew him to be. The look of deep pain and regret, I knew that look. I knew because I saw it in Fox every day for years. It was something that the average person, who didn’t really pay the clones any attention, would never notice.
“It was him. Cody is the one who did it. Look at him Rex..” I ghosted my fingertips underneath the deep set brown eyes and glanced at Rex with exasperation written all over my face. “Really look at him.”
“He’s miserable. I see it. But why would he do this? As far as he knows, I died in the Tribunal crash with the rest of my men.” Rex reasoned, massaging his temples between his thumb and middle finger and sighing.
“Maybe he doesn’t know anything, but he’s holding out hope you survived and is trusting that you’re missing right now for a good reason.” Gregor turned back to the ship's dashboard and checked the navicomputer. “Changing your file around is a pretty good way to signal you subtly. He’s at least thinking about you. That’s not normal behavior for a clone with a functioning chip.”
As Gregor worked on checking on the ship, Rex turned to me and rested his forehead on mine. “Mesh’la…if there’s even a chance he might need our help we have to go.” His brows furrowed as he concentrated on all the thoughts of strategy and success rates of a rescue mission this risky in his head.
I leaned forward and kissed his lips softly, resting my palm on his chest and stroking his curling hair between my fingers. “Of course we do.” I whispered as I pulled back, brushing my cheek against his as I slid down into his lap. His hands gripped my sides and rubbed up my back soothingly.
“I know you must be tired of running and missions…and I’m sorry. I wish it was easier. That we could run away. But I can’t stop being who I am. If we could save Cody, he could help us fight back.” He rambled excitedly, hopefully, and with all that fiery determination lighting up in him. That passion in him that I loved and admired so much.
“Don’t ever apologize, Rex. I’m by your side. For all of it. We’re doing this together. Just tell me what you need me to do, baby. How can we find him? Where do we start?” I cooed, watching a gentle and grateful smile cross his face.
“Imperial Inspectorate HQ on Coruscant. Imperial chatter says all clone commanders are to report there for a briefing in 0600 hours. Cody should be there.”
“Imperial Inspec…what? Never heard of it.” Rex exclaimed, the puzzled look on his face signaling the fact that so much had already changed in the former Republic and he’d only been gone a few months.
“It was formerly the Republic Center for Military Operations. Place should be familiar to you…your Commander almost blew the place up.” Gregor giggled, adjusting the ship’s steering and turning off autopilot as the navicomputer signaled we’d be arriving soon.
I knew he was referring to the incident that led to Ahsoka leaving the order. The bombing she was framed for. The Military Ops Center was where they held political prisoners and Jedi, in a pinch. Ahsoka had been one of the first lifeforms to ever escape and it did not go unnoticed by anyone exactly how she’d done it. Clones were killed the night she got away and anyone outside the 501st was not quick to forget it.
Even though Rex and I knew without a shadow of a doubt that she was innocent, not many others understood what happened that night. Barriss Offee was said to have been the actual perpetrator of all of it. She admitted it in open proceedings in front of Jedi and Senators. Ahsoka was acquitted of all charges, but many, even clones, felt she had some hand in the incident. Her closeness with Barriss and the lack of hard evidence that a second force user was present the night the clones were killed led conspiracy theories about her to run rampant on the holonet.
That was only one of the many reasons Ahsoka left. Rex and I knew her heart and trusted her word the way we did our lives. How could we not? She’d saved Rex from a terrible fate and risked her own safety to bring us together as we were now.
Rex and I looked at each other and said in unison, “That’s not what happened.” Gregor raised his hands in surrender and grinned sheepishly.
“Sorry, bad joke?” He turned back toward the view before us as the ship dropped out of hyperspace and the familiar sight of my home planet loomed large ahead. “Whatever happened to her anyway? She…wasn’t technically a Jedi. You certainly don’t seem like you executed the order, Cap..” Gregor eyed us both suspiciously, like he could tell there was something unspoken between us that we weren’t telling him. It was a little too soon for us to know if we could trust him with something that secret.
“That’s a long story…for another time Gregor.” Rex replied, standing up to turn the chair around and slide in as the ship’s copilot. “Besides, we’re here and we need a plan. How the hell are we going to get into an Imperial prison?”
“Carefully.” Gregor replied with that signature clone smirk and eased us into Coruscant’s crowded transport lane, behind rows of waiting starcruisers, liners and ships alike.
I sighed, looking between the two brothers lost in thought while they navigated the ship into its landing cycle and groaned, “we’re breaking into an Imperial Prison, aren’t we?”
“Yep, definitely.” They replied, Rex turning to look at me with an apologetic shrug and Gregor a defiant wink.
I settled back into the dropdown chair that we’d never had to open before now and slid my pack into my lap, looking through its contents to take stock of what else we might need. “Yeah, that’s what I was afraid you’d say.”
If the state of Coruscant was any indicator as to how the galaxy was doing under the new Empire, then I was afraid to see what other less wealthy planets might look like now. The entire planet was covered in military personnel, the flashing lights of Coruscant Guard transports tailing every new ship that entered the atmosphere.
We were lucky Gregor knew how to scramble our ship’s signature quickly or we would never have been permitted to enter the lower levels. There was no way in hell two renegade clones would’ve made it past security checkpoints on the surface level. Our old pirate freighter looked passable enough to be just a simple supply ship importing goods from off-world.
Rex somehow knew of a safe platform to land on and hide our ship and we were off, stalking around the Coruscant underworld on foot until we found the Imperial Inspectorate HQ. Or rather their sewage drain pipes leading out of the massive facility.
One good whiff of the lovely entryway had me seriously second guessing how much trouble we’d get into if we just knocked on the door instead. “We really have to go in this way?” I whined, scrunching my nose as our boots padded into the echoing metallic pipe.
Rex chuckled, flicking on his helmet’s light source and holding his beloved dual blaster pistols up for protection. “...unless you’ve got a better idea, cyar'ika…” He nodded me forward, the blue jaig eyes on his helmet looking eerily similar to the way his eyes scrunched up in amusement whenever he smirked at my lack of field experience.
“Place is a dump…” Gregor laughed, fitting himself with one of the spare blasters our ship’s former owners left in our bunk. “Get it?” He pointed to the ruddy water passing by our boots while we inched deeper into the bowels of the prison.
“Oh brother…” Rex scoffed, letting me walk ahead of him slightly with his lights leading the way now. I drew my own blaster from inside my leather coat pocket and pulled the hood of my cloak up to protect myself from the mystery liquid dripping down on top of my head. Gregor and I weren’t afforded the luxury of helmets like Rex was.
“Fives would’ve loved you.” I giggled, picking up the pace slightly as the first crossroads in the drainage system appeared up ahead.
“And if we ever do actually find Cody he’d probably slap you for that.” Rex shook his bucket and jumped over a particularly filthy pool of sludge before grabbing onto my shoulder to steady himself. “Bad enough we have to even come back onto this overcrowded, scrap pile of a planet. These lower levels were always miserable.”
I punched Rex’s shoulder pauldron softly, “hey! I came from this miserable lower level, remember?” I smirked up into his dark visor, giving him a warning teasing look that I knew he wouldn’t miss.
He rubbed his shoulder, feigning a more serious injury and looked down at me, “you were always the only fucking thing worthwhile on this planet.” I opened my mouth in shock, expecting to have to rebut, but instead closing it to smile as my face blushed. He shouldered me forward gently, stopping to rest his hand on the metallic side wall of the underground tunnel.
“If you two are done with the trip down memory lane, you might want to look up.” Gregor rolled his eyes, directing our attention to a high-up deposit point with a ladder that extended only halfway down the shaft. “That’s our way in.”
I looked up with calculated intrigue and scowled as I tried to figure out how the hell I’d ever make it up there. “Unless you think I’ve mysteriously gained jedi abilities overnight, there’s no way I could jump that high.” I waved my arms wildly, watching Gregor and Rex exchange glances.
“Angel, I could lift twice your weight with one hand. Rex and I could definitely give you a boost.” Gregor explained, flashing a toothy grin and smoothing his hand over his now wet hair. He flexed his biceps and stretched, motioning for us both to stand beside him. I took a deep breath and stepped into where they joined hands, looking up at the small opening I needed to catch onto.
On the count of three, they hurled me upwards, sending me up the tube with perfect aim. I scrambled in mid air like a distressed tooka until I felt my palms latch onto the second lowest rung on the ladder. I clamped down tightly, using all my upper body strength to reach for the next step and the next. My dangling feet finally found purchase on the bottom rung and I looked down for the first time, Rex and Gregor’s heads both cocked in amazement up at me.
“Well don’t just stare..c'mon let’s go.” I hissed, walking up the ladder toward the entry hatch, probably magnetically sealed above us. In an instant, Rex was behind me, the familiar touch of his gloved hand supporting my back. I kept crawling forward, my face now only inches away from the access panel.
“How are we going to get past the access panel without an astromech, Gregor?” Rex asked, hurling his body to the side to allow Gregor a place to grab onto. The sound of clattering armor beneath me meant Gregor had finally joined us and left the filthy drainage tube behind, for good hopefully.
“I mean…we can’t just blast it…either of you know anything about overrides?” Gregor cringed, looking between Rex and I and only finding scowls.
I thought about the many things I shoved into my pack before I remembered. I had an old droid spike that I took with me from the Senator cruiser I stole. “Rex, open my pack. I think I packed an old droid spike in there. Probably from a rusty old C1 mech, but it should work right?”
I felt Rex fishing around in my bag, until he found what I was talking about and whooped softly behind me. “Look at you…being all clever.” He handed the spike to me and returned his hand to a place a little bit lower on my backside.
“This is all well and good, babe, but what the hell am I supposed to do with it? I don’t really know how to hack anything.” I stared at the old, rusty metal part in my hands and then at the access port in the wall. I thought back to the very last time I’d ever seen one of these droids use this. I guess if you just put it in and felt around for the lock mechanisms, you could probably figure it out, right?
Gregor opened his mouth to speak, only to quiet again as I pushed the spike in and turned until I felt the gears clicking in a way that just felt right. I repeated the action over and over until the doors above our heads whooshed open.
“Stars- I fucking did it…” I laughed, removing the spike and gripping it in my teeth as I hauled myself further up the tube and through the opening quickly. The room I entered was filled with junk and spare parts, probably not far from an incinerator room. Luckily we chose the right door.
I looked around in the dimly lit room for any security droids or scanners in the room, but didn’t see anything. The Empire, and especially fellow clones, should know better than to leave any room, even the junk unattended.
“How’s it looking up there?” Gregor called up as Rex hurled himself up in a flip over my head and landed surprisingly quietly on two feet. I blinked in shock, for some reason stunned at my biologically superior boyfriend’s athletic prowess in action.
“Looking pretty good…” I grinned, stepping closer to Rex who was scanning the room with his helmet. I rested my hand on his bicep and waited for him to finish his scan before he tore his helmet off to wipe the muddy water off the front of it. “Very good.” I insisted, pushing up on my tiptoes to kiss his cheek. He smiled shyly, the lightest flush coloring his cheeks. He twirled his blasters in his hands and pocketed them in one motion.
In another second, Gregor was beside us in the center of the room. The blast doors before us weren’t sealed and didn’t require shotty mech work to get through them. “I take it we’re good to move forward with the plan?”
The plan. Or whatever we could scrape together that resembled a plan. First step was to the intelligence center to find out if there was anyone in this prison that we might want to free. Our clone friends, political prisoners or even Jedi. Second step was to find out where the Commander’s meet up point was happening and intercept Cody if we could find him.
The biggest problem was that the whole plan was contingent on a ton of If’s. If we could hack into the network and get the intel. If there was anyone here we’d want to free and how we’d do it. If there was even a supposed Commander’s Conference here at all. Maybe this was all just a trap.
“Ready as we’ll ever be I guess.” I groaned, drawing my blaster and stepping toward the doors. Before I could move, I was pulled backward, spinning around into Rex’s arms. Both his hands cupped my face and he pressed his lips to mine, kissing me so passionately I felt my legs wobbling and my mind blanking. He pulled away, resting his forehead on mine.
“For luck?” I muttered, brushing his cheekbone with my thumb. He leaned into the touch and closed his eyes, his lips curling into a content smile.
“For love. We don’t need luck.” Rex replied, his weighted palms easing down my shoulders and patting my ass to motion us forward with Gregor rolling his eyes behind us.
“Saps.” He muttered, pulling his cloak over his face as we entered the hallway. I shrugged and pulled my own hood up, following Gregor’s lead as Rex brought up the rear.
“We should probably find better disguises.” I mentioned, moving swiftly down the empty, gray hallways of the dark prison. There was very little light in the hallways, which only helped us, but was intended to keep prisoner’s from knowing the difference between night and day. An especially miserable form of torture.
“Don’t think we’d be able to find stormtrooper armor small enough for you, angel. Not unless this prison happens to have any cadets hanging around.” Gregor commented, bolting quickly around a corner and into a hallway filled with cell block doors.
“Well they certainly wouldn’t have cadets covering the detention block.” I hissed, looking down the long corridor at rows and rows of cells probably filled with people I stood by and supported for years. “Where’s the network room, Gregor?”
“Down the end of this corridor to the left. Hopefully we can find at least some kind of helmet, so I can get away with being an escort to you two. I prefer that to sneaking around.” His eyes flitted into the few small openings of each cell block door we passed, trying to get a glimpse of whoever might be inside.
Shouts from behind the doors increased as each prisoner on the detention level heard us outside and, judging by the things we were saying, could tell we were not Imperials. I could almost sense Rex’s apprehension, hoping to every star system in the galaxy that we didn’t hear Ahsoka’s voice from behind one of these doors. Even though we could more than use her help right now.
Suddenly, blast doors on the right side of the hallway opened and two sharply dressed troopers stopped dead in their tracks. I froze on sight, all the training and tips I learned to fight back going right out the window. “Hey! No visitors allowed in the Detention Level. What are you doing down here?” The two voices spoke, the familiar sound of their brother’s voices making both Rex and Gregor sigh with regret.
The two shinies approached the two men who far outranked them no matter what army they served under. “Just wanted to see what you’ve done with the place. Been a minute since I’ve seen the inside here.” Rex scoffed, leaning up against the wall and tearing down the flag of the Empire from its fixture in the metal wall to look at it in his hands.
Following Rex’s lead, I improvised, “Is that any way to speak to a Commanding Officer, boys? What kind of strength does our Empire have if you cannot respect your chain of command?” I chided, straightening up and doing my best Senator’s impression, something I’d gotten good at after working alongside them for so long.
Gregor straightened up and waited for the men to salute as they should. “We’re here for the Commander’s Briefing.” He stated plainly, like a directive. Nobody moved.
The shinies looked at each other in confusion and then up and down at us. “If you’re both Commander’s then where are your uniforms?” They both raised their blasters thinking they had us. Slyly, Rex traced his hands down to his holsters on either side, trying not to draw attention to himself. With both hands on the hilts of each blaster pistol, he whipped them out as fast as I’d ever seen and raised them to their faces.
With a deep growl of contempt, Rex’s graveled voice spat, “You’re wearing them.” and blasted the both of them with blue stun blasts. The men collapsed in a heap and Gregor snorted at their stupidity.
“That was good, Rex. Now let’s drag them down the hall to the network room, so we can change.”
Gregor and Rex dragged their two unfortunate brothers down to the network room at the end of the hallway. With everyone getting ready for a large briefing upstairs, the room was unguarded save for a few droids milling about. The network console in the center of the room flashed the unmistakable signet of the Empire while waiting to boot up for the next user.
I searched the dash for a place to input a security key and froze at the realization that my Senate staff clearance code might not work anymore. Gregor, who was now fully suited up in a Commander’s formal grays, stepped up beside me.
“What are you waiting for? Type in your codes. You had access as a Republic Senate staffer, right?”
“Yes,” I stated, moderately annoyed at his constant questioning. “I’m just not sure how good they’ll be. Senator Organa said he transferred me to his personal staff, I’m not sure if the codes needed to be renewed or something.” I rubbed my arm nervously, pulling up the aurebesh keyboard and plugging in the passwords I’d used a thousand times before.
Rex stepped up beside me, leaning his now ungloved hands on the table and nodding me forward. “Guess we’ll just have to find out. Worse comes to worse…we run.” He shrugged, the gray uniform broadening his shoulders even more than normal. It really was a fucking shame he was never promoted to Commander. Everything about the uniform, the position of power, his brilliant strategic mind suited him. Except for the hat, which hid too much of the blonde locks that made him stand out amongst his brothers and that I personally loved so much.
At his usual smirk of encouragement, I confirmed my password and waited the agonizing seconds it took to load the all clear entry signal. We all held our breath, exhaling at once when the monotone beep confirmed we’d gotten in. My codes came through.
“Thank the fucking Force.” Gregor sighed in relief, his light eyes panning over the info scrolling across the screen. The info about the conference popped up almost instantly and I reached forward to select a running log of who had checked in already. The list of registered attendees had small green indicators next to the CT numbers of troopers who had already reported in and red indicators next to those who had not.
“What’s Cody’s CT number?” I asked, running my eyes down a list noticeably shorter than I’d guessed it would be.
“CC-2224.” Rex stated without a second thought, his own eyes scanning through the numbers too. “Commander class.” Each Commander had their original Kaminoan ID holo displayed along with a long record of their military achievements and former battalion number. Most didn’t look all that different from the GAR’s usual files. Almost as if they hadn’t been touched since.
Finally, my finger hovered over the number we were looking for and I pulled up the file. This file was completely different. The list of accolades accumulated here were far more recent than those of the clones we’d already seen and the hologram of Cody before us wasn’t of him in his original phase armor like the others. This Cody was donning stormtrooper armor and standing beside none other than Admiral Wilhuff Tarkin.
“Admiral Tarkin?” Rex scowled, taken aback at the info laid out before him. “I rescued him from the Citadel years ago. Last I saw him was at Ahsoka’s trial. And he wasn’t on our side.” He huffed, the muscles in his jaw tensing as anger broiled up inside him.
“Looks like Cody was promoted. He serves directly under Governor Tarkin now. And they’re due to arrive today. Could be here already.” Gregor thought aloud, realizing this info hadn’t been updated since the night before.
Both Gregor and Rex looked at each other and then turned to me. “We’ve got to go look for him upstairs. He could be here right now.” Rex exclaimed, clearly distressed and looking at me as if he needed my permission. I knew what it really meant though. If they had any shot at finding him, they’d both have to go up into the briefing without me. Meaning we had to separate, which was the absolute last thing Rex and I ever wanted to do. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, gripping the holotable for stability.
If he left me here and something happened, neither of us could ever forgive ourselves. We promised each other we’d never separate for any reason. Never. For some reason, the crushing weight of fear was collapsing down on top of me all at once and it was taking everything in me not to cry.
He realized instantly what I must’ve been thinking and his hands wrapped around my waist, hugging me to him. “Don’t worry, ok? We’ll be fine.” He assured me, running his hand through my hair and kissing my forehead. I kept my eyes closed because if I opened them, I’d start crying and he’d never leave.
“Meet back here in an hour.” Gregor stated, turning on his brand new black boots and walking off to let us have some privacy.
“Go.” I whispered softly, slowly pushing him off me. “Be safe. And keep your comm channel open. I want to be in constant contact with you.” I felt his fingertips grazing my forearms as he slipped away, following Gregor’s footfalls back into the hallway.
“We’ll blend right in. I love you. I’ll be back for you, mesh’la. Promise.” He called out, the words echoing as he faded away.
“I love you too. I’ll see you soon.” I called out after him quietly, opening my eyes to an empty room filled only with the beeping and droning of binary droids and mechs working.
“Not if I see you first.” His voice suddenly rang out over my comm and I jumped, not expecting a response. I just laughed softly to reply, turning back to the holotable and starting to scroll through any other info I could find on the Imperial holonet now that I was here.
The Detention Block was surprisingly not filled with anyone I recognized, no Senator’s, former Republic or Separatist, and certainly no Jedi. This made this impromptu rescue mission of ours just a little bit easier. Having to make only one pick up was less risky than breaking a prisoner out and running them back through the sewage drain systems.
I checked in on the whereabouts of my friends and colleagues, none of them seeming to even show up at all, much less cause any incidents for the Empire. Which was actually somewhat disappointing. The friends I knew should be standing up to oppression like this, not cowering as it took over the entire galaxy.
I suppose not everyone was ever as bothered about the state of the world as I was. Most people I had worked with, even some of my friends, were from well off upper or surface level families who got into the Senate for the cushy job benefits, the off-world travel and the prestige. Though they were sympathetic to the suffering of others, they didn’t know it. Not like I had. Growing up with barely enough to survive in the Coruscant lower levels was a hard upbringing and seeing the upper level Senators doing such amazing work on billboards and online seemed like a decent way out.
Little did I know most of it was an act. Nearly every Senator not associated with Bail or Padme was a blood sucking leech on Republic society. Either profiting off of the suffering of their own people or secretly funding the very exhaustive war. At least I was helping expose and rid the underworld of actual crime. The lack of decency around me only made me want to push harder to get into an important role in the Senate. Which all seemed for nothing now. I was right back where I started, a scrappy underdog in a battle for something far bigger than myself. Ironic. Maybe it was always meant to be this way.
Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed something interesting. A number. CT-9904. I wracked my brain trying to remember where I’d seen it. Then it dawned on me. The Bad Batch. Wrecker had this number etched onto his chest plate next to all the other boys.
I opened the file and up popped a pretty menacing looking Crosshair, the only member of the batch I hadn’t met. The file was filled with details on something called Project War Mantle. I tried to open it, but the entire project was sealed. However, the notes on each individual mission log were not. I played the first one and it was someone by the name of Vice Admiral Rampart noting the effects of chip removal on Crosshair.
“Most clones we tested the chip removal on showed dangerous and erratic behavior and were terminated. CT-9904’s chip removal has been an outlier. He exhibits total loyalty to the Empire with no undesirable effects and has forsaken his old squad and the Republic completely.”
“Interesting findings. And what of the testing of the termination order?”
Tarkin’s voice. Without a doubt.
“On those we tested, it has been successful, but CT-9904’s leadership skills are proving useful. His unyielding belief in the Empire seems to be keeping remaining clone troopers in line.”
“Excellent news. Would be a shame to let such superior soldiers go to waste. But need I remind you, Vice Admiral, that if there is even a whisper of dissent or rebellion amongst the remaining troopers, I am on strict orders from our Emperor to move forward with the eradication procedure. Ensure that CT-9904 plays into our hands and follows instructions or you and your vision for our Empire will receive the same fate as the rest of the former Republic’s army.”
“Yes, understood, Sir. Thank you, Governor Tarkin.”
I gulped, shutting off the audio recordings and scrolling through the list of clones, human men, who had participated in the trials. Nearly all of them were marked as terminated. The select few that had passed rigorous loyalty tests were now identified as In Training and multiple holorecordings of clones suited in black armor like I’d never seen before were undergoing what looked like torture tests.
Each man watched as simulations of civilians cried out for help while Galactic Empire propaganda played overhead. The men who caved to the cries for help were dragged aside while the ones unaffected sat unmoving and glossy-eyed, like they were in some sort of trance. The screams on the recording were not just civilians either. In the background, voices exactly like my Rex’s were crying out for help too.
The clones in the experiment were being repeatedly taught to leave any fallen troopers behind. A sentiment that was against everything the men I knew ever stood for.
I shut it off, rubbing the tears from my eyes and jamming a holodisk in the projector. This was evidence and Bail needed to see it. Needed the atrocities I saw to be confirmed to prove to the Rebellion that the clones needed to be saved. That no man, nat-born or otherwise, should ever be subject to the indoctrination and brutality I just saw.
I shuddered imagining what Rex would’ve done if he saw that. I hoped to all the stars in the galaxy he’d never have to.
The holodisk ejected back into my hand and I stuffed it into my pack. All I could think about was getting out of there with the evidence, and Rex and Gregor, safely. The sight of all those innocent clones being brainwashed further, the idea that Crosshair was supporting it willingly, Tarkin’s threats to kill them all if they found evidence of clones rebelling. There was too much at stake for just the three of us to deal with alone.
No, the Rebellion had to know. The Senators, with whatever power they had left, had to listen to this. Listen to us.
I stood up, spinning around to head out of the room and toward the drainage pipe entrance we came from when I ran directly into another lifeform, hard.
“Hi Sunshine…”
Suddenly, I was face to face with the bright red helmet of one of my dear friends. Commander Fox.
I stood wide-eyed, looking up into the black visor where I knew the eyes of my friend should recognize me. “Fox…” I muttered breathlessly, reaching for his chest plate and getting almost close enough to touch it. A black glove shot up and gripped my wrist roughly.
“Senator’s aren’t permitted down here. And certainly aren’t permitted to do what you were doing.” He spat, the cool, sarcastic and witty tone that I was accustomed to completely gone from his voice, just like it had been the day the Order was activated. “You fucking traitor.”
“Fox…this isn’t who you are. You’re being used. There’s a chip in your brain. In every clone-” I began to explain slowly and gently.
He tugged me forward into his chest and glared down at me. “This is exactly who I am. This is what I was born to be.”
I scowled up at him, “No, Fox. This is what they made you to be. It’s not who you are. He took that choice away from you. Just like he tortured you before.”
He shook me and let out a chilling and sick laugh, “You should never have come here. Because I know exactly who you are. And I know why you came. There’s nothing you can do to stop the Empire. You’re coming with me, Sunshine. My brother can’t save you now.”
Before I could even think about turning to run, he stunned me and all the lights went out.
Everything was fuzzy. I groaned softly, a numbing pain all over my body and finding myself barely able to move. I blinked repeatedly, the fog in my eyes starting to dissipate. I was in a dark cell, my body shoved onto a flat platform with nothing but a small sink for water in the corner. I struggled to stand, my knees wobbling as I stepped forward. Just as I moved toward the sink, my cell doors slid open.
Fox stepped into my cell with the hum of an Interrogation droid following behind him. He didn’t look any different, but his demeanor was all wrong. There was nothing about him I recognized. No warmth, no jokes to cope with his pain, no quiet compliments. He was stone cold, focused and terrifying. My mind rushed toward Rex and Gregor, praying they weren’t found out, even if I was. He stalked toward me, my weak knees collapsing underneath me and I fell on the floor in a heap.
“Where is he?” Fox boomed, standing over me with his fists held behind his back. “Where is CT-7567?”
“Dead. He’s fucking dead.” I lied, pushing the very real tears I wanted to cry for an entirely different reason forward and coughing. I pushed myself up to my knees in front of him and glared up at him with what I hoped looked like the most misery I could ever muster. “How dare you ask me about him.”
Without a word, Fox knelt down before me, his helmet face to face with mine. He raised his hand to my jaw and squeezed, turning my face from side to side. He tutted menacingly, “I’m not asking. I’m ordering.” He let go and shoved me back, “Don’t lie to me, cyar’ika. I know you too well. You’d be a fucking mess without him. You wouldn’t have any fight left in you if he really was gone.”
“Then you don’t know me as well as you think, Fox.” Fox waved the Interrogation droid forward and started to corner me.
“Well…if you won’t talk to an old friend, then I guess I’ll have to make you.” He hissed angrily, as I shuffled away from him, with nowhere to go but the corner I woke up in. I scrambled against the cold metal wall, wishing I had something, anything I could use to fight him off with. My bare hands would be useless; all the clones were just too strong for me.
And I couldn’t hurt him anyway. Somewhere inside was my friend and it wasn’t his fault this was happening to him. It was the chip. The Fox I knew seemed completely lost to it. He was out of his mind and beyond his own control. All I could think to do was try to jog his memory.
As the Interrogation droid closed in I cried out, “Fox, please. Don’t. You know how this feels. I know you do.” Fox stopped, holding out his hand and keeping the droid hovering over his shoulder. “When he used to make you fight for him and you’d come to me bruised and bleeding…I helped you. Do you remember, Fox?”
He muttered quietly, “that’s- I don’t answer to that name anymore. I’m CC-1010.” His hands were balling up in fists, like Rex’s did when he was fighting anger or fear inside. His arms were shaking like he was trying with all his might to fight off the urge to follow an order he didn’t want to obey.
I crawled toward him, slowly and calmly whispering, “yes, you do. You’re Fox. You’re my friend. 
I care about you. I helped you when he did things to you that hurt…things that you couldn’t remember.”
Fox shuddered, his head lolling and his gaze falling to the floor, “m-milk and two…two sugars. You like it..sweet.”
I slowly stood up, nodding as tears brimmed in my eyes. “Yes, Fox. M-my caf order. You like yours black or however you can get it.” He stood motionless, his shoulders rising and falling as he did nothing but shake and breathe. Carefully, I reached up, placing my hands on the rim of his bucket and pulling it off him. The sight before me shattered me into pieces. The same gut wrenching pain I felt when I saw Rex for the first time after the Order.
His hair was a graying, curly mess, frazzled and unkempt. His cheeks, chin and forehead were covered in cuts, bruises and what looked like shock marks. As if he was hit with a bolt of lightning. Maybe several. He always looked tired, but this time was different. The dark circles under his eyes were deep and purple, combining with a black and blue shiner over his left eye to make it look like he hadn’t slept in months.
But his eyes themselves frightened me most. Normally warm and kind in the face of unspeakable cruelty, his pupils were dark and gloomy. Yet, they were dilating, the deep amber fading in and out constantly. He wasn’t looking at me. He wasn’t looking at the ground. It’s like he was far away, drifting in and out of consciousness.
I rested my palm on his cheek, the way I always did to connect with him when he needed it before. To wake him from the daily nightmare he lived under the Chancellor’s orders. The vulnerability, the need for softness and care. That was Fox. The way I knew he really was. The way I seemed to be making him recall.
“Fox…what did he do to you? Talk to me, I can help you. But…you have to let me go.” I offered, wiping the dripping tears off my cheeks. His eyes slowly traveled up my frame in front of him, the pupils narrowing and opening over and over. He blinked hard like he was trying to clear a fog from his eyes. Finally, his eyes met mine, blankly gazing at me and cocking his head like the right thing to do, who he really was, sat just out of reach.
“H-help-” He muttered so softly it was barely audible before suddenly his eyes darkened again and his frayed brows furrowed at me touching him. His painfully forceful grip latched underneath my arms and he lifted my entire body off the ground, pushing me roughly onto the platform. The Interrogation droid buzzed as Fox moved aside, motioning his directive with two fingers pointed on me. “Scan her for base vitals and then put her under.”
The droid’s red scanner ran over my body quickly, calculating all the information it was gathering as it floated toward me with the anesthetic needle ready. “NO! FOX! PLEASE DON’T!” I pleaded, fighting and kicking him, but unable to move him away from restraining me. The droid beeped to signal the scan was complete and rattled off my vital information.
Fox just growled as I fought as hard as I could. He was probably hoping I’d tire myself out soon. The droid inched closer until I was backed into the cool, metal corner of the room again, the outstretched needle inches away from pricking the side of my neck. “Tell me where he is, sunshine. No use struggling, you won’t win.” The sinister tone of his words made me sick, my stomach roiling and flipping in knots in a way I’d never felt before. The overwhelming need to puke from the stress of the situation, the fear of the unknown and who knows what else.
I felt a slight prick and a searing heat cascading through my bloodstream, the noise of the droid's mechanical voice echoing in my ears.
“Species. Human. Type. Female. Temperature rising. Heart rate slowing.”
My vision was fading again, the darkness of unconsciousness circling tighter and tighter until I could barely see anymore.
“How much longer?” Fox’s gruff voice demanded impatiently.
“Heart rate level adequate for interrogation. You may begi- Warning. Warning. Warning. Additional lifeform reading detected. Additional lifeform reading detected.”
“Piece of shit clanker. There’s no one else here, but me. Re-scan.” He shouted.
“Rescanning….Rescanning…Rescan Complete. Additional lifeform is detected internally. Age approximation 8 weeks.”
It…it can’t be. 
I tried to cry out, but the drugs were too strong. 
8 weeks ago. On Saleucami. Only 2 days after the Order.
“What?” Fox said incredulously.
“Biometric Parental Genetic Match Found. Paternal Match. 50% Jango Fett. Species. Human. Shall we continue the Interrogation, Sir?”
And now he knows. They all will know. I gave him up without even trying.
“Well, well, well…the Captain lives. Looks like we’ll have much to discuss when you wake up.”
And with that I went out.
Mando’a translation note:
dinii = lunatic
NOTES: sorry for the long wait…summer time is busy and work has been a nightmare. but i'm here now :) and more exciting stuff soon :)<3 I love all of my readers so much and I cannot thank you enough for your support in helping me love and find writing again
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pancakes4two · 8 months
that summer feelin’ | three
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preview: Tossing a tube of toothpaste to you, Harry leans his arm against the corner of the bathroom where the sink meets the wall.
“So, when was your last relationship?” He asks, twisting his hair up and using a small black clip to hold his curls in place.
“We’ve moved on to the hard-hitting questions?” You mumble around a mouthful of toothpaste, while Harry rubs foam cleanser into his face.
“Of course. Don’t wanna listen to you ramble on about your childhood crush on Daniel Radcliffe any longer,” He retorts, turning on the tap and gently washing the suds off of his skin.
“Try not to get too jealous,” you jab, spitting your toothpaste into the sink next to him and wiping off the side of your mouth. “Can’t help it if I have a thing for Harrys.”
A/N: apologies for how long it took me to post this, been pretty busy lately :( in other news, i’m starting to write a new series that’s very different from this one so if you’re curious please check out the preview post here!
chapter 3 - the very first night
soundtrack: i know a place - MUNA
harry’s pov:
“Wait, so let me get this straight. You saw a sketchy ad online for a free vacation and $50,000, and you actually answered it?” Harry asks you incredulously. The two of you were currently discussing how you wound up on Love Island, after Harry had realized he told you his origin story on your date but had yet to have heard yours.
“That’s what I said.” You reply, looking up to see that the outside of the villa was mostly empty. The other islanders must have gone inside to get ready for bed, leaving you and Harry alone in the quiet night for a bit.
“How did you not know it was for Love Island?” Harry questions, looking quite amused. He shifts his body so that he’s fully facing you and tucks his knees in towards himself, looking positively cozy.
“Listen, I studied English in school, and considered adding law for a while too. I’ll give you a wild guess as to whether or not I had time to watch shitty reality TV.” You laugh, staring up at the dark sky. For some reason, you and the rest of the islanders were not allowed to know the time while in the villa. There were no clocks to be found anywhere, and your phones never displayed the time either. It’s weird: you somehow simultaneously feel like so much time and so little time has passed since your date with Harry earlier today.
“I wanted to do law after my GCSEs!”
“Did you actually?”
“Well, law…” Harry starts, “and sociology, and business, and lots of other things.”
“Bit indecisive, aren’t we?” You poke at him, running a hand up and down your arm as a cool breeze fluttered by.
“Well, decisive only with the things that matter most,” Harry says while attempting a wink, “you cold? Maybe we should head inside?”
“Sounds good,” you hum in agreement. The two of you head back towards the inside of the villa, still chatting mindlessly about stupid things like what your go-to hang out spots were in primary school and that one time you and your best friend both tried to surprise each other with a visit during uni, and ended up missing each other. The stories flow endlessly between the two of you, and you can barely remember a time where you actually wanted to speak to another human being this much. While you consider yourself to be a social person, your social battery does tend to run out fairly quickly, so it’s rare that you find enough energy to keep a conversation for this long.
Maybe it’s just the adrenaline from being dropped into the villa so suddenly, or the fact that everyone around you seems to be the textbook definition of an extrovert—definitely not because there’s something special about Harry. That’s one thing you would never admit to yourself so early on.
You’re pleasantly surprised to see that the bathroom is empty when you and Harry walk in. Earlier today, he’d been complaining about how difficult it was to find a time where there weren’t four people trying to share two sinks and a single mirror. That’s the thing about talking to Harry: it becomes so easy for the two of you to lose track of time. Evidently, the other islanders have long since finished their nighttime routines and were gossiping in bed while the two of you desperately try to catch up before lights-out.
Tossing a tube of toothpaste to you, Harry leans his arm against the corner of the bathroom where the sink meets the wall.
“So, when was your last relationship?” He asks, twisting his hair up and using a small black clip to hold his curls in place.
“We’ve moved on to the hard-hitting questions?” You mumble around a mouthful of toothpaste, while Harry rubs foam cleanser into his face.
“Of course. Don’t wanna listen to you ramble on about your childhood crush on Daniel Radcliffe any longer,” He retorts, turning on the tap and gently washing the suds off of his skin.
“Try not to get too jealous,” you jab, spitting your toothpaste into the sink next to him and wiping off the side of your mouth. “Can’t help it if I have a thing for Harrys.”
Harry looks amused for a moment, but then he pauses and points an accusing finger at you. “Don’t try and avoid my question, woman!”
“I was doing nothing of the sort!” You gasp, swatting his finger away. “Fine. My last relationship ended during my second year at uni. I was dating a guy I met at college long-distance, but he turned out to be a fucking prick.”
“Can I ask why?” Harry interjects sincerely. He picks up a pink-colored toothbrush and lets it dangle from his mouth as he twists open the cap on his toothpaste.
“He was basically mugging me off the entire time we dated,” you shrug, watching Harry squeeze toothpaste onto the bristles. “Hooking up with girls and stuff to get the full uni experience. Telling our friends we had an open relationship because the distance was too much of a strain. You know, general muggy behavior.”
“I’m sorry,” Harry says, and the thing is, he looks so genuinely sorry that you wonder why the hell this guy looks like he’s about to apologize for all the things your ex did to you.
“What’re you sorry for?” You laugh, the two of you heading for the bedroom.
“You don’t deserve that,” Harry says simply. He takes off the hoodie he was wearing and hands it to you, and your mind flashes back to earlier, when the two of you were sitting outside and his eyes followed your hands as you ran them up and down the goosebumps on your arms.
“Here. Figured you get cold easily. Our bed is right next to the AC, unfortunately, so you’re probably going to need that.”
“Thanks,” you whisper, caught off-guard by his perceptiveness. You pull the hoodie over your head and breathe in his scent, all clean and reminiscent of a day spent soaking in the sun. When the two of you finally arrive at your bed, you’re met with a chorus of cheers from the rest of the islanders. Harry calms them down with a flick of his hand and turns to you in bed, making sure he isn’t crossing any boundaries by touching you when you haven’t given him permission to.
“Is this okay?” He asks, softly carding his fingers through your hair. The lights start to turn off then, but you catch a glimpse of the sage green in his eyes right before they fully flickered into darkness.
“Yeah,” you smile. You know he can’t see it, but you hope he hears it in your voice. “Night.”
“Goodnight,” Harry replies.
You fall asleep to the sound of his steady breathing, the motion of his hands in your hair slowing as he gradually drifts into subconsciousness. Strangely, his smile and the deep rasp of his voice make their way into your dreams.
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zinzinina · 1 year
part ii
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Pairing: Boba Fett x F!Reader Word Count: 5.5k Series rating: Explicit 18+ Additional tags: Descriptions of anxiety and vertigo, description of old injuries, mention of canon-typical violence, slow burn, eventual smut, age difference.
AN: Thank you from the bottom of my heart for all your kind words after the first chapter. Reading your comments is truly the highlight of my day! I hope you enjoy this next installation, and as always, I’d love to hear your thoughts x
main masterlist // series masterlist
You don’t sleep well.
The bed is too soft, and you’re too high up. The sharp wind soaring up from the desert keeps the room in a state of constant motion, and you toss and curl in turns, your water-filled stomach cramping, your fingers tight around the knife beneath your pillow.
Anyone—or anything—could be living inside these walls. And while Boba Fett had given his word you wouldn’t be harmed, the moment his footsteps had faded from your hearing, you’d dashed across the room to shove that heavy door closed lest he change his mind and turn back. You cringe with the memory of how easily you’d let your guard down after no more than a handful of reassuring words. You’d played right into his hands, and you have no explanation for yourself other than the feeling that he’d left you with; a lingering solidity, like warmth on stone. You wonder how many others had felt that same warmth, moments before death. Fool.
The need for the ‘fresher grows too pressing to ignore, and you stumble out of the bed, blindly groping your way toward the curve of the wall. The linen hangings whisper, shifting in the moonlight as though the whole palace pitches in the wind. Though you feel the grain of the stone yourself, your palms and feet are restless with a tensile prickle, searching for something to grip onto. You feel in danger of slipping between the clouds.
Reaching your way into a pitch-dark alcove, your hands find several unfamiliar shapes before brushing across the outline of a vacc tube. There doesn’t seem to be a sonic shower; something you note with unease as you lurch back toward the bed.
You hover somewhere just beneath unconsciousness. More than once you plummet awake as though from a height, panic thudding in your ears as you peer through the gloom. And each time the dark outline of the door is exactly where it was the last time you looked; firmly closed. Your head aches with tiredness as you finally drift uneasily into a shallow sleep.
You’re not sure how much time has passed when you wake to sunlight biting your cheeks. It’s well past second dawn judging by the heat already shimmering through the open archway.
Hunched over the side of the bed, you try to ignore the sound of your empty stomach gnawing. It takes several seconds for you to realise that you’re attempting to pull your left boot onto your right foot, and you squeeze your eyes shut, trying to force your tired brain into action.
They say he’s a monster. He’s hurt people; almost certainly killed them. He admitted as much to you as easily as though exchanging pleasantries. He had also said you were free to leave whenever you wished. He needs help. Whatever’s happening in this palace is illegal at best; abhorrent at worst. Those crates you’d glimpsed were almost certainly filled with weaponry. He has nobody else to help him. He’s dangerous. He probably deserved whatever happened to him, and any sympathy you might feel for him is surely outrageously misplaced. Just take his water, and consider it a fair trade.
You sit up straight, breathing in through your nose with the nauseating realisation that you hadn’t even negotiated the rate. He could hand you a single canteen and still be technically upholding his end of the bargain. It’d be dirty, sure, but what would you do about it? Accuse him of being unfair? You might as well start making demands of the desert itself.
And yet…he’d seemed so…reasonable. Unbidden, the thought returns of his dark eyes creasing faintly at the corners as he’d spoken to you. It’s easy enough to fake a smile. But he hadn’t been smiling. Not exactly. The softening had been far less overt, almost missable.
It might just be tiredness muddling your clarity, but you’re striding toward the door before you’ve even made the decision to move. Drawing back the thick bolt, you heave with all of your weight until it swings open—and you stop.
There, at your feet, sits a simple clay platter. Several slices of some unfamiliar pale green fruit are arranged beside a linen-wrapped shape smelling of fresh-baked bread. Your stomach gurgles and you crouch to snatch it up, too hungry for the moment to care about anything aside from shaking the wrapping free.
It’s still warm in your palm. The outside of the roll is flaky and golden, with a delicate pattern of crosses pressed into the sides. Someone made this with their hands. They spent time on it, you think, even as you rip it in half with your teeth. Not just baking it, but in making it look pretty; an incongruous act of care. The inside is impossibly soft; none of the hard, grainy texture of phraig bread. You press your nose to the remaining half, breathing deep as you chew. Gods, what is that? There’s an earthy, ambrette scent to it, something you’ve never tasted before.
“Morning, sweetheart.” Your eyes fly open. The Abyssin stands at the far end of the corridor, well out of arm’s reach, but you’re immediately on high alert. How long had he been watching you eat? Had he been waiting for you to open the door? He grins, revealing rows of pointed teeth. “You got crumbs all over your face.”
Automatically, you reach to brush the back of your forearm across your chin. Your mouth is still full, so your only response comes in a faint scowl as he takes a step toward you, clawed hands hitched comfortably into his pockets.
“You and me’ve got another long drive together. Boss wants me to make a delivery, and you gotta get your stuff. You ready now, or you want me to come back later?”
You swallow, a hard lump lodging uncomfortably in your throat. You don’t have any reason to delay. You can’t imagine how rough you look after the night you just had, but you haven’t got a change of clothes, and you aren’t going to ask him where the sonic is. Still, that easy, avuncular tone has you gritting your teeth. “Isn’t there anyone else I can go with?”
He snorts. “Sorry. Your choices are me, or walking.”
You lean your weight on one hip, making some mental calculations. About four hours by landspeeder across the unbroken sands of the Dune Sea. You don’t have any water. And if most speeders make it to a top speed of two-fifty klicks per hour…
“Fine. Let’s go.”
It’s easier to see the landscape change in the light of the morning. Within the depths of the Dune Sea, the very ground is impermanent, shifting with the winds. The cliffs surrounding the palace are different; rocky and flat with scraggly vegetation fighting its way through cracks in the baked ground.
A scrabble of scurriers pause to watch the speeder pass, ears twitching before they disappear into hidden burrows. You keep your face turned resolutely away, turned into the corner of the passenger seat as the Abyssin talks.
“They’ll keep you alive in more than one way if you’re lost in the sands. Their eggs are like water-bombs, just poke a hole and suck ‘em dry. And the meat’s good too, though lots of folk turn their noses up at it.”
The enormous container hitched to the back of the landspeeder offers a hulking rectangle of shade from the suns, and you twist to glance back at it. It looks like a sandcrawler without the treads; gigantic repulsor racks attached to the base keeping it aloft instead.
“…but pocky grubs make a nice thick paste, and you can tell where there’re good water veins running right beneath wherever they grow.”
Despite yourself, you glance over at him. He’s leaning back in the seat as he talks, his beard flapping in the wind. You’ve never met an Abyssin before this one. You wonder if they all have serrated fangs, or if it’s an aesthetic decision on his part. His knowing, conversational tone is beginning to wear at your tiredness. “Are you just making all of this up?”
He seems unoffended by the question. “My first job was working for the GOSS—that is, Galactic Outdoor Survival School. The war turned all that on its head. But I still remember my training.” He taps the side of his head with a gnarled claw, his giant eye shifting back to your face. Your curiosity is piqued enough that you want to ask how he ended up here, then, working with criminals, when he could be anywhere in the galaxy. Whether he’d visited other planets as part of his work; whether he’s seen forests and valleys, verdant and cool and alive with things growing. But instead you turn back away, crossing your arms over your body pointedly. He is not your friend. The rest of the drive passes in silence.
As the first few outlying moisture spires of the village creep into view, your tension climbs into your throat, taking on the shape of humiliation. You don’t know how to answer any of the questions you’ll undoubtedly be asked without inviting further scrutiny, and it’s easier for everyone if that doesn’t happen…not least because you barely understand yourself what it is you’re doing. So you press your lips together hard, keeping your eyes fixed into the middle distance as he manoeuvres the landspeeder and its bulky cargo into position beside a vaporator access point.
“I’ll be quick,” you mutter, scrambling over the side before the speeder’s completely still. It’s midmorning; the time of day when most people should hopefully be inside mending clothes or machinery and keeping away from the searing heat...unless drawn out by the sound of an approaching landspeeder. You stride forward as curious figures begin to appear in doorways. Some leaning, eyes narrowed suspiciously with arms folded over chests, while others peer out with nervously wide expressions. Ducking your head, you slink into the welcome shade of your tiny home and release a held breath.
Your bedding still holds the imprint of where you’d been sitting yesterday, your datapad tossed to one side. Everything is exactly as you left it—some good luck, at least. The desert is a harsh place, and once a person is gone, their belongings are claimed quickly. You drag a crate out from beneath your rickety cot and swing it open to reveal your neatly organised supply stores. Already half-reaching inside, you pause, thinking hard.
You probably won’t need bandages or bacta, considering the age of your charge’s injuries. Or any of your other supplies for that matter. Without you here, the villagers will need them far more than you will considering they’ll be on their own. You allow yourself a tiny moment of guilt as you consider this, wondering whether anybody will be able to figure out how much painkiller to dispense; how tightly to wrap splinted fractures to provide enough support without affecting the circulation.
They’ll be fine, you tell yourself. Come back to the task at hand. You’re taking none of your supplies or tools. Okay. That just leaves your personal things, and there certainly aren’t many of those. A small comb, a dry brush for cleaning the sand from your body, an age-worn shawl of bantha-wool that you wish you’d had to keep away the coldness of last night. And then the more precious things; your bookchips, a tiny bottle of scent with barely a fingernail’s length worth remaining, and a pale grey stone glistening with quartzite, a small hole bored through the top to allow for a length of cord. You slip it over your head and tuck it beneath your clothes as you bend into a crouch.
There are small piles of sand in the bottom of the bag. You could shake them out, but there’s hardly any point. You’ve long moved past the discomfort of sand between your clothes and skin; it’s as inescapable as air on Tatooine. There’s a sudden tingle at the back of your scalp, warning of company. You glance up to see a full figure leaning against the doorframe.
“Hi Yatha.”
She scoffs. “You’re unbelievable.”
“Nothing happened.” You shoot her a smile that you hope is convincing as you duck past.
“We thought we’d never see you again,” she says, withdrawing her outstretched hands to rest instead on her hips. She’s little more than a silhouette against the brightness of the day outside, but you can still somehow hear her disapproval: the line between her fine, sunbleached brows, the way her freckled face pinches around her pursed lips.
You yank a handful of rumpled clothing out of the old packing trunk in the corner of the room, shoving it unceremoniously into your bag without even looking at it. There’s no point in being discerning with what you pack; you don’t own anything nice anyway. Yatha is still talking.
“Those men looked like flesh-traders out from Anchorhead. Rin cried all night worrying about you. Hey. Hey, are you listening to me? You’re not even going to give me an answer? Just so I know you’re not mixed up in some kind of danger?”
“I’m not in danger.” You hope it sounds like an unweighted statement, considering you don’t actually know whether it’s the truth. “I’ve just agreed to do something…uh, help someone. I might not be back for a while.”
You’re moving as you talk, seizing spare undergarments with one hand and reaching for a sock underneath your cot with the other. And then you straighten. The bag isn’t even full, but this is everything. All the detritus of a life; a small, quiet life, but yours nonetheless. Your heart feels oddly shaky as you turn and consider the room, now even barer than before.
A memory trickles into your thoughts. You’re watching a gang of Jawas wrench an ancient starfighter from the sand, piece by piece. The wreck had sat in the same place for as long as you could remember; rusted through and useless, but as monstrous and immoveable as the dunes themselves. It had only taken the tiny scavengers a matter of hours to dismantle the sheets of durasteel, dragging them off just as fast as they were dislodged. And the next morning, the place where it had stood was impossible to distinguish from the rest of the sand. Years of holding its position against innumerable sandstorms and stripping winds, and the landscape hadn’t held its empty footprint for a single day. Yatha probably wouldn’t remember this if you asked her, even though at several years older than you she would have understood what was happening better. She’d always been more straight-forward and ground-rooted than you, bossily corralling the other children back inside at dusk.
The room looks as though you’d never lived here at all. You slip past Yatha and back out into the sun.
She whirls to follow, her thickly-curled yellow hair whipping out behind her. “What should we do if someone gets sick?”
“I’m leaving twelve vials of bacta, and there are bandages and a cauteriser in the second compartment of the kit in case of emergencies. I won’t be able to get back here in a hurry, so it anything goes wrong you’ll need to get a message out to one of the healers in Mos Gedda.” You’re talking as quickly as you walk, not waiting for her to catch up.
“You’re just leaving us? Seriously?” Her tone is equal parts accusatory and shocked, and you try not to let the barb of guilt twist in too hard as you trudge ahead. She has a point. But you’re not leaving for frivolous reasons, you’re helping someone, and someone terrifying at that. You’re not even accepting payment on your own behalf, and at great personal risk to yourself to top it all off. Isn’t that selfless? And a sour voice in the back of your head: does it really matter if, entirely incidentally, this also involves finally, finally leaving behind your tiny, dusty village?
There’s a small group gathering at the edge of the handful of buildings marking the boundary of the village. You can hear voices excitedly interrupting one another as people jostle to the front, and you lengthen your strides, suddenly in an even greater hurry than before, not waiting to see whether Yatha is still following. The Abyssin stands a full head taller than everyone else, grinning as he leans against the side of the suspended crawler, watching.
The group parts to let you through, and then you smell it; the rare, exquisite scent of water droplets hitting baked-dry sand. Everyone seems too engrossed to notice as you push your way to the front, where the crawler has been connected to the boxy access point for the village’s underground vaporator storage; storage, you know, that’s running dangerously low. A thin trickle of water is running from the connection point; the wastage making you grimace, though the surrounding group seems too excitable to care. Several small children shriek in delight, cupping their hands under the fine runnel and sucking their dusty hands dry.
“Hey. Hey you.” You step close, blinking up into the Abyssin’s face. “What is this?”
His grin widens as he slaps the age-worn durasteel side, vibrating with the sound of pumps. “What is it? Well, it’s had many lives, sweetheart. This baby was used for relief deliveries by the Republic during the Clone War. She holds around a quarter-megalitre. Then she turned into one of Jabba’s tax-collection crawlers. One of the only ones left now, after Fortuna sold the rest as scrap when the credits started drying up.”
An old man croaks a delighted exclamation behind you, clapping his hands. Your eyes widen. Used carefully and recycled as is the norm, this is enough to keep the village from parching out for an entire cycle. At least. You expect to feel elation. Instead, panic is crawling up your throat.
“But I haven’t done anything yet. I told him—I mean, I said I didn’t know for sure if I could even help.” What happens if you can’t help him? You’ve never even tried something like this before; your knowledge is mostly theoretical when it comes to anything outside the mundane complaints you’ve helped the people surrounding you with.
A little girl bumps into your thigh, and offers you a gappy smile that turns your heart in your chest. “Hi, Rin,” you hear yourself saying, steadying her with a shaking hand on top of the linen wrappings keeping the sun from her head. You’ve fucked up. Badly. If you fail now, every person here will pay the price for your mistake. The only way to reclaim swallowed water is by taking it from blood.
The Abyssin’s grin slides from his face. His single eye narrows at you thoughtfully. “I’m just the delivery driver,” he says. “You got an issue, take it up with the boss.”
The pump clicks, and the vibrations cease. He pushes himself up into a standing position, disconnecting the crawler and closing the open panels along the sides. He nods at you. “That’s everything. Ready?”
You were, a moment ago. Now you aren’t so sure again. You hadn’t even had a chance to think about where you were going last time; there’d been too much panic.
Your hand is still resting on Rin’s head, and you crouch in front of her. She stares at you, a thin line of wetness cutting through the dust on her chin from where she’s been drinking the water. “You’re going away.”
Your face feels stiff enough to creak. “I’ll come back and visit as much as I can.” Reaching into your pocket, you draw out the crumpled linen wrapping hidden there. “I brought you a surprise. I think it’s called a feen. It’s a fruit from a planet I’ve read about, far away, where there are jungles and the mountains are filled with fire.”
She accepts your offering, taking a tiny, mistrustful bite of one of the pale green slices. You glance up to see Yatha standing at the back of the group, her mouth turned down. “Tell your mother I’m sorry,” you add quietly.
You stand, adjusting the strap of your bag around your shoulder. You can’t think of anything to say. And though a few curious faces are still watching you, most are focused on the now-green readout panel at the front of the vaporator access point. So you turn and walk back to the landspeeder, tossing your bag over the side and climbing in after it.
The Abyssin joins you a moment later, having finished rechecking the connection couplings. Relieved, you think you’ll have a silent ride back, but his wordlessness only lasts until you’ve drawn out of view of the village.
“My name’s Myo,” he says, not without humour. “So you can stop calling me ‘hey you’.”
It’s a brilliant day, the kind that blinds and desiccates within hours. There are no clouds. You say nothing.
“I know you don’t wanna talk to me, sweetheart. But I wouldn’t worry about the boss. He’s the toughest motherfu— man I've ever met. He’s not cruel though. He won’t hurt your people, if that’s what you’re worrying on.”
And somehow this isn’t a revelation to hear. In the very few moments you’ve spent in the company of Boba Fett, you’d begun tentatively to reach the same conclusion. He had felt unquestionably cold; harsh and hard. But you’d believed him when he swore you weren’t in danger. Out of the tension of your sleeplessly tangled thoughts and into the searing light of day, it’s easier to dismiss your regret from the night before. The nervousness fluttering in your chest has begun to re-form into a different shape. Not quite the guilt-coloured shame of Yatha’s disapproval, nor the sad reluctance tugging you back down to your knees in front of Rin’s dusty face. It’s something else, something new: a terrible, wonderful, selfish excitement.
The addition of your meagre collection of belongings makes the room feel even emptier.
You lay out your comb and bottle of scent on the table, where someone unseen has refilled the water carafe. The light shifts from gold into copper as you potter around folding and smoothing your clothes, shaking your boots before setting them beside the archway.
You can’t completely justify to yourself why you spend so long brushing the dust from your hands. You’ve never cared before about the way your fingernails look, and it’s not like anyone here seems to care about scruffiness; Myo is testament enough to that. But all the same, you change out of your sweaty and rumpled clothes and into a dress; one of the only ones you own, simple and wear-worn, but clean.
Night has fallen in earnest by the time you step back into your boots. You don’t have a mirror, you muse ruefully, before catching yourself. You don’t need one. Remembering the directions Myo had given you, you slip out into the inner hallway of the palace, aglow with lamplight.
There aren’t many other doors this high up, so there isn’t much room to get lost. The one you stop in front of is nothing like the door to your own room. It’s small and plain; a standard access panel to one side similar to the kind in nearly every home in your village. It looks cheap. And flimsy. If your directions hadn’t been clearer, you’d think you were in the wrong place.
Gently, you tap on the durasteel panel with the back of your knuckle. In the time it takes for you to draw three breaths, the door slides open to reveal the figure within.
There’s no armour this time. He’s wearing a simple black tunic and pants, made from the same light woven fabric common to the desert. Beads of bluish moisture cling to his face and the exposed skin of his forearms where the sleeves are rolled back. He looks exhausted.
Your lips feel dry. “Hello.”
He inclines his head, stepping aside to let you in. You duck your head as you hurry past him, trying not to think about how close he is, and how much closer he’s about to be. His feet are bare.
The room is similar to yours, but the level of clutter makes it feel slightly smaller. Crates are stacked along one wall; the one on top open to reveal a heavy-looking blaster in pieces, and rounds of ammunition. There’s an unrecognisable glass casket open in front of the balcony; large enough for a body, with a profusion of control panels around the base. A high-backed stone chair sits in front of a long table covered in flimsiplast sheets and datapads. A small projection of the Jundland Wastes is still shimmering over the centre of the table.
Apparently indifferent to your wide-eyed curiosity, he steps past you, leaning over to kill the holoprojection. There’s a faint grimace of discomfort as he bends, and you clear your throat.
“I thought I’d feel out your range of motion. So I can get an idea of where you’re most restricted. And…go from there, I guess.” You don’t sound very convincing even to yourself, but if he thinks so, he gives no indication. He offers only inscrutable severity, nodding once more. You creep forward, until you’re close enough to touch him, chewing the inside of your cheek.
“Okay then,” you say, under your breath. Then, louder, “Can you raise both arms for me? Above your head?”
A furrow appears between his brows as he complies, his hands curling into fists. His elbows reach to the height of his shoulders, then his lips twist and he shakes his head, dropping them again. “That’s it.”
You move to stand behind him. Unthinking, you gently run your hands across the black fabric covering his back, feeling for the blades of his shoulders. “Bring your hands behind your back?”
You lead him through several simple movements, assessing his shoulders, elbows and knees. Occasionally he grimaces as though in pain, but he never says a word of complaint.
“Is that usually how far you get?” You watch as he straightens his spine, exhaling roughly.
His response is low. “Sometimes a little more, when the adrenaline’s kicking through me. I feel it later, though. It’s getting worse.”
“Mmm.” You smooth your hands higher, pressing your thumbs into both sides of his trapezius muscle. “If you aren’t using the muscles, you’ll see the flexibility decrease. Could you take this off, please?”
He reaches down and pulls the shirt over his head, and you pause, your hands hovering an inch above his back. Gods, he’s…broad. His skin is a rich copper, interrupted by an angrily-shiny stripe of scarring crossing from the top of his right shoulder around to underneath his left armpit. His head is slightly bowed as he stands in front of you, waiting.
Hesitantly, you lower your palms. His skin feels hot and firm; and you exhale. Pressing and feeling your way from his shoulders down to the middle of his back, you can feel gnarls and knots of tightness beneath the skin. The scars are cool to the touch compared to the warmth of the rest of his skin; a sign of reduced circulation, you note grimly. You apply pressure to either side of one particularly tight-feeling spot below his shoulder blade and he groans; a long, low sound.
“Am I hurting you?”
“No. It feels…good. Your hands feel good.”
Your face warms at the feeling of his voice vibrating through his body, and you blink hard, frowning. You probe around the top of his deltoid and down to his bicep, stepping around to stand in front of him as your hands slide down his arm. There’s a smattering of smaller, older scars; plasma burns and finer cuts as though from a blade between his shoulder and forearm.
Your eyes drag over his form as you appraise him. Softness thickens his chest and waist, the scarring at its worst in the junctions around each of his shoulders. A particularly thick-looking swathe of tight, shiny skin wraps just beneath his ribcage. His chest rises and falls steadily with his breaths as he stands patiently, allowing you to poke and grope at him, his head lowered, eyes closed.
Your grip continues down his forearms until you’re holding one of his hands in both of yours. It’s massive, rough and calloused, the nails blunt. You turn it over, brushing your fingertips lightly over his knuckles. There’s more fine scarring on the webbing between his second and third finger, as though he’d caught some kind of sharp projectile with his hands.
It’s then that you realise you’re no longer really examining his injuries at all, and you release his hand, embarrassed. He’s watching your face, and you take an uncomfortable half-step backward.
“Do you still have much pain?”
“Sometimes.” He jerks his head toward the casket sitting in front of the deep velvet night beyond, pulling his shirt back over his head. “The bacta baths seem to help. And it’s looking better. Doesn’t feel like it’s doing anything for the stiffness.”
You stare blankly at the glass tank for a beat before understanding crashes over your head. “Bacta…baths?”
“It means submerging myself—“
“I know what baths are,” you retort, face hot. As if anybody living on Tatooine hasn’t heard the lascivious stories of the Twi’lek healing baths, where the wealthy come to soak their bodies in water too precious for common people to drink. You may not have ever had a bath yourself, but the suggestion that you hadn’t even heard of them stings. Ridiculously, you’re embarrassed at yourself. You’d thought scrubbing your nails clean before coming to him would matter in the slightest. But clearly he thinks you’re every bit as small as the village you came from; no knowledge of the galaxy beyond the grit and sand of your surroundings. I’ve read about the towers of Coruscant, you want to tell him. I’ve spent hours inside the romances of Naboo.
Instead you take a breath. It doesn’t matter. Or it shouldn’t. Who cares what he thinks? “How many ampoules do you need to use to fill the tank?”
He pauses before answering. “I’m not using ampoules. There are entire containers in storage beneath the palace. Large enough for the Hutts to regenerate after too much sun exposure.”
You let this new information sink in. Bacta is prohibitively expensive. More than once you’ve been forced to improvise by diluting a single ampoule to stretch across months. The tiny stash you left with Yatha is worth a small fortune, and hopefully lasts a long time.
“I’ve offended you,” he says.
Your eyes flick up to his face, where he’s staring at you, still frowning. The thoughts that had kept you awake the night before spin through your head again, seeming insubstantial now. He’s concerned with your feelings? He shouldn’t be. “Don’t worry about it,” you say, briskly intent on changing the subject. “Where’s the bed in here?”
He raises an eyebrow as he gestures behind you and you glance back. The low, wide shape is similar to the one in your room, but here it’s completely covered in more flimsi, a long, fork-ended blaster rifle and several disembodied sheets of green armour.
“I guess you don’t use it often,” you quip, and you catch a glimpse of the edge of his teeth. He leans back against the stone table, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Oh, it’s used.” Heat rolls from your breasts to your hairline and you force your mouth closed. Something below your navel twinges as you swallow hard.
“The bed in the other…in my room might be better. I’ll want you to be able to stretch your arms out as I work so I can get into your shoulders properly.”
“The same time tomorrow, then,” he says, his voice like gravel. The tiredness etched into his face seems to deepen as he returns his attention to one of stacks of notes on the table.
You nod to yourself, feeling block-footed and clumsy as you turn to leave. You’re halfway back to the door when you remember something else, and pause.
“The water. It was…a lot more than I expected.” He looks up from a flimsi in his hand but says nothing. You continue. “I don’t know for sure how much I’ll be able to help you.”
His brows are furrowed. “Our agreement was only that you try. I have no intention of rescinding my payment.”
A weight you hadn’t even realised you were carrying lifts from your chest. They say he’s a monster. You take in a breath. “Thank you.”
His dark eyes are fixed to your face; his full lips pressed closed. Thoughtfully, he strokes the thumb of his right hand with his index finger; a rhythmic, gentle gesture. “Good night.”
He doesn’t watch you leave, already absorbed in the work in front of him.
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frostedfaves · 2 years
Lipstick on a Mirror
The Honey Collection
Pairing: dark!CEO!Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader
Summary: Monica leaves her assistant in the hands of a touch starved Natasha.
Warnings: 18+ ONLY, dark!fic, suggestive moment, implied strap-on, Natasha abusing her authoritative power, grinding (let me know if I forgot anything!)
A/N: so I’m trying a different way of writing/posting my series that feels less stressful for me. these installments will be shorter and posted out of order, but you can check the masterlist linked above for the chronological timeline. also I haven’t forgotten about Naive series! I just need a break from it.
Natasha raises her gaze from her laptop screen to the only person in the office that would dare to open her door without a proper (yet reluctant) invitation to do so, the faintest smile appearing as she gives her guest her full attention.
“What do you need, Rambeau?”
“Why do you always assume I need something?” Monica teases as she steps fully into Natasha’s private office. “Can’t I be stopping by for a friendly chat?”
“A friendly chat on your way to the airport?” Natasha nods toward the suitcase dropped in the doorway. “Are you headed off to your convention soon?”
“Yeah, I am...You still don’t mind taking my assistant off my hands for the time being, right?”
“It’s totally fine, M,” Natasha assures her with a casual wave of her hand. “She might be able to help me with a few things as well.”
“Oh, she can do it all.”
Natasha comes around to the other side of her desk and leans against it while Monica calls her assistant into the room, watching the woman as you enter. You have the confidence of someone that’s good at their job while also being careful not to look the redhead directly in the eye, as many others had warned you not to do. Although you feel like she may like you the slightest bit, you didn’t want to ruin that by unintentionally challenging her.
“Welcome to your new office, honey,” Natasha greets you after Monica bids you both farewell, closing the door behind her. “You can work over there.”
You carry your laptop and work bag over to the smaller desk across the room starting to arrange your things as she returns to her own laptop and begins typing again. The room is ungodly quiet aside from her taps on the keyboard, and you get the feeling that her attention is on you, despite her eyes being glued to the screen.
The ironically deafening silence continues until another employee dares to interrupt, but Natasha is quick and efficient, managing to send the employee back on their way in less than a minute. You don’t notice her lock the office door behind them, but you do notice her gaze locked on you when she sits back down.
“You don’t talk much, do you?”
“Only when I need to,” you answer immediately, quickly adding “I didn’t want to disturb you either, especially since I’m just a visitor.”
“I don’t mind an occasional distraction.” Her eye contact is unwavering as she leans forward on her hand, pulling back just as quickly. “Actually would you mind helping me with something? Do you have a minute?”
“Of course.”
You close your laptop as she stands behind her desk, following her to the door of her private bathroom. She steps back to let you in and closes the door behind you immediately, and you become a bit unnerved when you hear a lock clicking.
“What are you--?”
“Try this on.”
You look down to see a tube of lipstick in her hand, but you set it on the counter after taking it from her.
“What am I supposed to do with this?”
“I told you already,” Natasha reminds you in an alluring tone, rapidly growing impatient. “I thought you could follow simple directions, love.”
“But this literally doesn’t make any sense when I’m already wearing--”
In a split second, her hand is gripping the back of your head and forcing you closer to the mirror in front of you.
“Put. It. On.”
You watch her reflection for a moment while you consider your options. Assuming Natasha has an average amount of physical strength, you might be able to get out of this position using one of the few self defense moves you can actually remember. But then you think of your career. Losing your job here is one thing, but you can easily be blacklisted by the top CEO in the city, knowing she can cover up this moment faster than you can accuse her of it.
“Smart girl,” Natasha praises once you finally apply the dark shade to your lips, and she grabs your hip with her free hand. “I’m glad you realized that now isn’t the time to be stubborn.”
You gasp when she bucks her hips against you and you feel something solid between her legs. Her low chuckle fills your ears as she starts grinding into you slowly, watching your reflection as your eyes flutter closed and your own hips follow her gentle movements. 
“You have the potential to be something amazing, honey.”
A yelp escapes you when her grip on you tightens, and she suddenly uses her body weight to push your face into the mirror.
“Don’t waste it trying to be a brat.”
She unlocks the door and delivers a slap to your ass so precisely that the sound echos in the smaller room before she returns to her desk. You take a moment to catch your breath in her absence, lifting your gaze to the dark lip print slightly covering a bit of your reflection, and you wonder if you’re the first to leave one.
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