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xoxodiluc · 1 year

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lapis dei | zhongli ( genshin impact ) x female! reader

— part four.

series genre romance, angst, smut, fantasy mafia! au

summary in your family, being married and giving an heir to a certain man you’re married to is a must. after zhongli lost his wife guizhong — he was devastated. but there’s no time in wasting to find another woman who shall be his wife, and you were chosen.

cw in this chapter mentions of pregnancy, threats, mentions of blood, violence, character death, use of guns, use of sword | please read at your own risk, and please send an ask if i missed any content warnings here. not proofread.

word count 1.5k

notes + at the end this is a reupload!!! since this app wanna act up… epilogue soon :)

one | two | three | four ( you’re here )

You haven’t seen Zhongli much after the incident in the dining room a few days ago. Even if you bump into him, you doubt he would notice you.

“Madam Y/N?” A maid knocked on the door, and you told her to come in. She bowed as she entered. “Breakfast is ready.”

You nodded, thanking her before following her to the dining room, and to your surprise, Zhongli was there drinking tea.

But he didn’t acknowledge you.

It only took moments before he got up and went to his office, much to your disappointment.

He was so confusing.

Lately, you’ve been feeling tired even though you were only always lonely and bored in the mansion, and you’ve been feeling nauseous.

If you were pregnant, you were scared about what Zhongli’s reaction would be. He’ll be glad you finally gave him an heir...

But what about you?

You cursed your family for requiring you to be in an arranged marriage. Because now you were in love with a man who won’t love you back.

“Madam, you called for me?” Arya, one of your trusted maids, showed up in front of your room in no time.

“Yes. Can you keep this a secret, please?” When she nodded, you continued. “Buy me a few pregnancy tests.” She was surprised for a moment but nodded in understanding nonetheless.

“Of course, Madam.” She bowed when you thanked her before walking away, and you sighed as you closed the door.

“And if I am pregnant,” You whispered, looking down at your stomach, “What would I name you?” You scoffed, “Or would Rex Lapis name you instead?”

After Arya bought you pregnancy tests, you went to the bathroom to test them and waited for the results, and you were right.

You were pregnant.

You were elated, finally having a child, but you weren’t happy with your marriage.

Sighing, you walked by the window and noticed a letter sitting there. It was unsettling because there wasn’t any sign of who it was from. Slowly, you opened the letter, and you gasped.

‘Now, you shall perish.’ Written in blood.

“Don’t move.”

Your breath hitched when you sensed someone behind you, “W-Who… How—”

“Don’t speak. Just come with me.”

The person covered your mouth with a cloth, and you lost consciousness.

“What’s up with you these days?”

Xiao’s voice interrupted Zhongli’s thoughts. “…Hm?”

“You’ve been acting… weird.” He crossed his arms. “Is there something wrong?”

“I’d rather not talk about it. It’s not that big of a deal.”

The Yaksha was worried, but he just shrugged it off. “All right. Also, there are still no reports about your superior’s death. We’ve been investigating it for so long…Tch.”

Zhongli sighed, “We just need to try our hardest.”

A few moments later, Ganyu came bursting through the door. “Mr. Zhongli! Madam Y/N is missing! And she has received a suspicious letter… There isn’t any sign of who it’s from!”

“What?” Ganyu gave him the letter, and when he opened it, his eyes widened.

Immediately, he ordered Xiao, Ganyu, and the Millelith — “Find my wife. Now.”

“I told you to kill her, not bring her here…! Have you fucking lost your mind?!”

“I-I’m sorry… I couldn’t bring myself to!”

You slowly gained consciousness. It took a few seconds to realize your hands were tied up as you lay on the ground of an empty warehouse.

“You’re finally awake.” You recognized that voice, Raiden Shogun!

You looked up at her, glaring. “Zhongli will fucking kill you. He’ll come to find me.” You didn’t know why you said that. It slipped out of your mouth.

But you knew he wouldn’t come to find you.

“Oh? When he does come to find you, he’ll also see the woman he actually loves.”

Your eyebrows furrowed. “W-what?” As if on cue, a woman came up behind Raiden.

Lady Guizhong. Zhongli’s former wife, she’s alive?

She gave you a pitiful look, and you looked back at Raiden, a disturbing smile forming on her face. “She’s not dead. She killed Morax’s superior for her beloved husband to be the leader.”

Oh my God.

You were overwhelmed. It was slowly making sense. Raiden Shogun had probably planned this for so long — Lady Guizhong had killed Zhongli’s superior for Zhongli to be the leader, and Raiden Shogun somehow found out who the killer of his superior was, then used her in her plan.

But what would happen to Lady Guizhong now?

“Didn’t I tell you to count your days, Y/N? I’m gonna get rid of you.” Raiden Shogun pointed her gun at you, and you closed your eyes, your heart pounding so loud that you could almost hear it.

‘I’m sorry, my future child.’

You waited for the gunshot, but then Raiden hummed. “Or what if… Guizhong just kills you instead? Wouldn’t that be so fucked up?” She let out a laugh.

You opened your eyes immediately, and Lady Guizhong shook her head. “N-No please, I can’t—”

“I’m ordering you. Kill your former husband’s current wife.”

Guizhong sobbed as Raiden pushed her gun into her hands, and she looked at you. “I’m sorry.”

Suddenly, you heard gunshots outside the empty warehouse.

“How?!” Raiden Shogun angrily exclaimed, and Guizhong took the opportunity to remove the rope tied up around your wrists as soon as the Millelith crashed into the place, shooting Raiden’s soldiers.

“I left the letter you received in your room on purpose so there was evidence you were kidnapped, and I hoped they could come and save you.” Guizhong flashed a sad smile, “I’m sorry once again.”

“Raiden Shogun. I knew you were suspicious ever since you visited Liyue.”

Zhongli… He came.

He ran towards you but slowly stopped once he saw Guizhong.

“You… You’re alive…?”

Guizhong shook her head, “I’m sorry. Please. Save Y/N and forget about me.” He stared at her in shock.

“Ah, my plan is all ruined!” Raiden Shogun spoke up, holding a tachi in her hand. “Guizhong killed your superior for you to become the new leader, Morax. She deserves to perish, doesn’t she?”

Slash!

And just like that, Guizhong was dead. Zhongli’s breath hitched.

Tears formed in your eyes as you grabbed the gun Guizhong was holding and pointed it at Raiden Shogun. You shot her in the shoulder as she cried out in pain. “You…!”

Zhongli immediately grabbed your hand and pulled you towards the door to escape, but you felt Raiden’s sword slashing your back, making you groan and fall. He looked back furiously to shoot her, but she managed to flee the warehouse.

“Go! I’ll take care of this!” Xiao yelled out as he shot Raiden’s soldiers. Zhongli picked you up, starting to panic when he saw you losing consciousness as he ran out of the warehouse. Ganyu then showed up and helped Zhongli carry you.

“Y/N... Live. Please.”

That was the last thing you heard from him before you passed out.

You opened your eyes slowly, attempting to get up, but it hurt like hell. “Ow!”

“Finally.” You heard someone say, then saw Zhongli giving you a small smile. “Don’t try to get up yet. You’re still not well.”

You slowly sat up and looked away from him, making him frown.

Didn’t he tell you to fuck off because you aren’t his real wife? Why is he here?

“Um…” You started, “How did you know where I was?”

“You received a threat, right? Then you went missing. I immediately ordered Xiao to do everything he can to find you. The first person who came to mind is Raiden Shogun, who’s been suspicious ever since she visited Liyue. I was right.” He sighed, “And I was scared… You’d be dead as soon as we got there. I’m glad you weren’t.”

You huffed, “Why would you be scared?”

“Because… I love you.” You looked at him, surprised at his sudden confession. “After Guizhong ‘died’, I was scared of falling in love again. That’s why I said those foolish things and started avoiding you because I realized I was falling in love with you. I’m sorry for that.” Zhongli held your hand, “But trust me, I do love you.”

“Really?”

“Yes.” He said, “Fuck the contract. I’m willing to break the contract for you. Only you.”

You swallowed a lump in your throat. “How do I know you’re not lying?”

“I’ll prove it to you. I’ll do anything. Please.” Zhongli — Rex Lapis got on his knees, looking up at you as his hands clasped yours tightly. “I beg of you, believe me when I say I love you.”

Take the risk or lose the chance.

Because even after all the unfortunate events, you still loved him.

You sobbed, pulling him up to his feet and hugging him. “I believe you.”

“We still have a long way to go,” He kissed your forehead, and you saw tears in his eyes as he looked down at your stomach. “We’ll take care of this little one, too.”

“You knew?”

He intertwined his hand with yours. “I saw the test before we came to find you. Thankfully after the incident, our baby is fine. You’re so strong.”

You smiled, and it quickly faltered when you remembered the previous events. “What happened to Raiden Shogun?”

His face suddenly turned serious. “She managed to escape after attacking you, which is unfortunate. Fear not, I made sure you’re completely protected and no one is taking you away from me now. I won’t allow it.”

You laughed. “Noted.”

notes that’s it for zhongli’s series! idk i kinda feel eh about it 😭 but there might be an epilogue :) thank you so much for reading! 💖

taglist @dori-mon @angel-of-requiem @xxshinimakixx @aclairysm @celesther @pluviophilefangirl @eternallyvenus @shrynkk @diachibaby @rimsthebest2 @byundumb @youngpainterpizzalawyer @swirrley @deimmortales99 @whattaweeb @hoanganhduong @kyomihann @puppieee @dancing-hillary @limelightsuperhero @beef-stew @local-mr-frog

#♡.heather’s writings #♡.heather’s mafia series #zhongli #mafia zhongli #zhongli x reader #zhongli smut #zhongli x you #zhongli angst #genshin zhongli #zhongli x y/n #genshin impact x reader #genshin smut #genshin angst #genshin x y/n #genshin impact smut #genshin x reader #genshin mafia au #mafia genshin #genshin mafia

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abbysimsfun · 6 days

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Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 47 (Meeting Her Family and Friends)

Conrad's first visit to picturesque Henford-on-Bagley came the day he met Heather and Ash to meet her friends and family. They stopped first in Old New Henford to visit Everett and Spencer, but Heather's parents, Neal and Daisy, greeted them in the yard before they'd even gone inside.

"We were just out for a walk, enjoying a nice fall day without rain," said Daisy, but Heather knew exactly why they were here. Noting her daughter's half-smile, Daisy gave up the charade. "Oh, we were tired of waiting to meet him!"

"It's so good to finally meet you." Conrad offered the polite and welcoming smile Heather had first fallen for. He was warm and affable with everyone he met; it seemed impossible for him to make a bad first impression.

Heather's old friend, Everett - the man she once thought she'd love more than any other - greeted Heather, Conrad, and her family outside the mansion he now called home. His old country church sat just down the road, and he welcomed Heather's new boyfriend with more maturity than he'd once dealt with Malcolm. "It's great to meet you, Conrad. We've heard so much about you, already."

"Good things, I hope."

Heather let out a self-deprecating laugh. "I told them how you got a confession out of me and still kept me from going to prison, so I think their hopes for you are sky high!"

"She's right," said her father, Neal. "But you're off to a good start."

Relaxing on the porch with dusk setting in, Heather held the boy she gave birth to for Everett and Spencer. Jett had Heather's eyes, but his parents looked at him with so much love. Despite his tired mood, he was happy and well cared for. Heather couldn't have hoped for more when she chose to be their surrogate.

"Show your toys!" Ash demanded of Greyson as the two toddlers met for the first time. Ash was more outgoing than Greyson, who was older, and Spencer and Everett's son felt overwhelmed.

Cradling Jett in her arms, Heather reprimanded her toddler. "Ash, you say, 'Please may I see your toys?'"

"Show toys, peese."

The calmer approach worked, and the boys toddled off to see Greyson's toys. Heather offered her friends an apologetic frown. "I'm trying to teach him better manners, but after he spends a few days with the Landgraabs he always seems to forget them."

"He's not so bad," Spencer assured her. "Greyson's always been cautious around new faces."

Heather was grateful to spend time with her oldest friends, and relieved that Conrad got along so well with them. In her arms, Jett began to whine and reached for his father. He was ready for bed.

Everett took his son from Heather's arms, inviting her upstairs while he put him to sleep. Heather watched quietly, leaving Everett to handle the task on his own. She understood what she was getting into when she signed the surrogacy papers, and she never wanted to overstep any boundaries. She didn't want to do anything she wasn't invited to do by Everett and Spencer.

Finally, Jett dozed off to sleep, and Everett turned his attention to his friend. "My Dad says Jett's like me. Malia was the calm twin, and I was always fussy," he mused. "He laughs like Spencer, though. It's funny how that works."

"Ash can be so bossy. Like his grandmother, Nancy. I kind of hope Conrad's manners rub off on him despite his genetics."

"I think the odds of that are pretty good. Your son went straight to Conrad's sofa when we all sat in the family room, and Conrad spent five minutes debating with two toddlers whether a T-rex could swim. He didn't crack once. He really cares about you, and he cares about your son. I know you think you don't make good choices-"

"Name five good choices I've made."

"Becoming a vet, becoming a mom, becoming a surrogate, becoming a business owner, and breaking things off with Malcolm - and me - to make room in your life for Conrad." Heather smiled at Everett's affirmation. "The last thing you'll ever need is my approval, but I want you to know you have it, no matter what."

He was right. She didn't need his approval, but her best friend's words still meant the world.

Everett knew her so well after everything they'd been through, and Heather brimmed with confidence at his support. ->

<- Previous Chapter | Gen 2 Start | Gen 1 Summary | Gen 1 Start

#sims 4 #sims 4 gameplay #sims 4 screenshots #sims 4 legacy #sims in bloom #ts4 #ts4 gameplay #ts4 legacy #ts4 screenshots #sims 4 story #ts4 story #legacy challenge #sims legacy #ts4 legacy challenge #gen 2 #henford on bagley #alice spencer kim

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evenhisfacewasanalias · 2 months

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You should see me in a crown

Lady Jane Grey/Guildford Dudley

Rating: Adult

“In regione caecorum rex est luscus,” Guildford quips back with a smile. In the land of the blind, the one eyed man is king.

“I think you mean ‘regina est lusca’,” she corrects.

But his grin only widens. “Glad to see becoming Queen hasn’t gone to your head if you’re still correcting my Latin.”

She raises her brows, “and you’re still in need of correction.”

(Really just an excuse to write some throne room smut. Guildford shows off his language skills with full marks on the oral exam!)

Jane watches as the sun sets through the stained glass windows to the west, wishing she could see an end in sight to this Council meeting. Party planning meeting, really - what had started as an actual meeting about her sudden disbanding of the Kingsland Guard and easing of the Division Laws had taken a strange turn at the reminder of her upcoming coronation.

Suddenly, everyone had an opinion. Many of those present still remembered the spectacular coronation of Henry the VIII, and the somewhat lesser occasion of her cousin’s. All had an endless supply of advice to offer her, which had taken the better part of the last several hours.

Jane finds she doesn’t care one whit about the sodding menu, or the music, or really any part of the ceremony that isn’t her plan to draw Mary’s treachery out into the open - with a little help from her surprise guests. But she can’t exactly discuss those plans here.

At the far end of the throne room, she spots Guildford leaning against the doorframe, watching her try to hide her growing annoyance at her intransigent cabinet suddenly transformed into experts on floral arrangements - on which they are equally as uncompromising. Despite the smug expression with which he watches her field their advice, she can’t remember when she’s ever been so happy to see her errant husband. He must have come here straight from the stables as he was still in his leather doublet and trousers.

She stands from the throne with finality.

“I think that’s enough planning for one night, we can resume our discussions on the morrow.”

A spirited debate over whether the inclusion of rosemary would be a warm remembrance of Edward or too funereal, thankfully ends at her rise. But still, no one makes a move to leave.

“You are dismissed,” she tries, barely holding herself back from shooing her Councilors from the room.

Jane remains standing as they all file out of the room to the last man, finally leaving her alone with Guildford. She hadn’t been able to speak with him since he had helped her to decipher Mary and Lord Seymour’s letters the night before - and then there was the matter of their near kiss in the stables. But for once he looks nearly as pleased to see her as she does to see him, and so she decides that now is not the moment to tell him of Mary’s attempted regicide, or her newly developed plans to bait her into another attempt. He will only try and talk her out of it. So she simply smiles as he makes his way toward her.

“The crown suits you,” he nods to her as he nears the throne, where she still stands on the slightly raised dais, leveling her gaze with his.

Jane reaches up to straighten the heavy circle of gold and jewels, expertly matched with her green and blue dress by her mother. She had only put it on to try and gain back a little of her authority as she faced down her Council. Now she feels a little silly about wearing it, and the ridiculous debate he just witnessed.

“It actually did start as a real Council meeting,” she tries to explain. “But I don’t know which is worse - arguing with a bunch of obstinate old men over the backwardness of our Division Laws, or debating the merits of peacock versus porpoise on the menu.”

“Well, that all rather depends on whether one considers peacock to be meat or poultry,” Guildford puts on his best impression of the Earl of Wiltshire. Apparently he had been listening for some time. It must be later than she realizes.

“Please don’t start that again,” she begs. “But you’re right, that was actually worse. I think I might actually be reaching a few of the younger Councilors on the Ethian issue.”

“In regione caecorum rex est luscus ,” Guildford quips back with a smile. In the land of the blind, the one eyed man is king.

Jane freezes. Even though he means to mock her, she sometimes forgets that while her husband might be equal parts ill-mannered and pigheaded, underneath it all he is in fact highly intelligent. And - rather unfortunately - almost nearly as charming as he thinks he is. But she won’t admit that the reminder of her husband’s ability to spout Latin aphorisms - or crack elaborate ciphers - still does something to her as it had at their first meeting.

And so she pulls herself together as best she can, putting on a mask of indifference to the effect his words have on her.

“I think you mean ‘regina est lusca ’,” she corrects.

But his grin only widens. “Glad to see becoming Queen hasn’t gone to your head if you’re still correcting my Latin.”

She raises her brows, “and you’re still in need of correction.”

“How about this one then? Flectere si nequeo superos, Acheronta movebo .” If I cannot move Heaven, I will raise hell.

Fuck. That’s even worse. She can feel her body tensing in expectation of…something. Another battle of words, perhaps? Jane will never admit she enjoys matching wits with her husband on occasion. Even if she still craves a different kind of confrontation.

“Virgil, not bad. Carmina vel caelo possunt deducere lunam ,” she counters his Aeneid with the Eclogues. Songs can lead even the Moon down from the Heavens - not a perfect retort but at least it mirrors the reference to the heavens, and it comes from a far less widely read source. Guildford:1, Jane: 2. “Your pronunciation has improved at least,” she allows.

“I’m no polyglot, though I’ve often been complimented on my skilled tongue,” he winks back at her, bringing an immediate flush to her cheeks.

Her mind immediately jumps to the oft-visited memory of their two shared kisses, both all too brief - the way his warm hands had cupped her jaw as his tongue sought hers. Skilled indeed.

His smirk tells her he notices her blush, but he has the good grace not to comment on it for once. “Did you know, that first night that we met, I thought to myself - what kind of woman visits a tavern just to correct a man's Latin?”

This, at least, she can handle. Debating their respective faults is well-worn territory between them.

“And I wondered how I managed to find the most insufferable prat in all of England.”

The corners of her mouth tilt upward to show she’s merely in jest. After all, they’ve both had to deal with Lord Seymour lately. Still, she counts it as a victory, sitting back on the throne and crossing her arms over her chest looking very pleased with herself. Jane ignores that this posture unintentionally presses her breasts up against the bodice of her gown, but she doesn’t miss the way Guildford’s eyes glance down.

“In all of England, really? London, maybe,” he concedes. “Neither of us was at our best that night. Any chance you’ve reconsidered that first impression?”

“A queen must be unwavering,” she replies, feigning a royal countenance. Her crown tilts a little against the engraved wood behind her as she tries to look down, her nose at him, but Guildford’s standing far too close.

He slips even closer. One booted foot steps up onto the dais, bending at the knee so he can lean further into her space. His arms go to either side of her, gripping the throne’s armrests and caging her in. Her breath catches at his sudden nearness.

“Then perhaps I shall tell you more about my first impression of you,” he offers.

“Oh?” She attempts to feign indifference, still trying to act the part of the Queen regnant - even as the heat of his body and the smell of warm leather reach her, leaving her feeling a little lightheaded. “Remember that any disparaging remarks could now be considered treason.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he smirks, his face nearing hers. “In fact, when I saw you walking towards me I thought you looked like a woman in desperate need of a good shagging. Or at least a very thorough tongue lashing.”

His words are delivered with a wink and she can’t help the blush that reaches her cheeks, her whole body growing warm with the weight of his words. Jane tries to keep it together.

“I seem to remember already receiving a tongue lashing from you over my - what was it again? My amiability?” Her voice nearly squeaks at that last word, but she makes it through.

“Not that kind of tongue lashing, Your Highness.”

Guildford’s nose does that little scrunch that it always does when she’s being particularly obtuse, and her face heats further at the realization of what he means, as well as the intimate inflection of her title. That last part sends a little shivery zing down her spine. Guildford’s probably already guessed the effect it’s having on her, the bastard.

“And what made you change that impression?” She barely manages to get out.

“Who says I did?”

And it’s true that Guildford has made no secret of his desire for her - it’s her wishes that have always halted them. But with the imprint of Mary’s fingers still around her throat, she finds she really doesn’t want to stop whatever is happening between them right now. Who knows when she’ll ever have the chance again? Jane catches Guildford’s dark eyes glancing down at her lips and pushes all thoughts of doubt from her mind.

“Shut up and kiss me, you idiot,” she commands

“Happy to serve, Your Majesty,” he smiles back, leaning in.

And promptly drops to his knees.

Her mind blanks a little at the sudden sight, eyes widening and lips parting. What on earth was he doing? Jane realizes she’s asked the question aloud.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” He smirks before bringing his hands to her knees, sliding the fabric of her skirts upwards. Surely he doesn’t really intend to…

“What if someone comes in?” she stammers, but doesn’t stop the press of his hands upwards.

“That’s half the fun,” he winks up at her. “But don’t worry, they won’t see much,” he assures before ducking beneath her skirts. Jane doesn’t even think of halting him, still too stunned and more than a little aroused by the thought of it..

The first touch of his warm hands to the backs of her knees has her inhaling sharply, the sound echoing loudly in the empty hall. With those same hands he pulls her to the edge of her seat, spreading her thighs to accommodate broad shoulders between them, and she barely catches herself from falling back against the throne.

It occurs to Jane that beneath her heavy damask skirts, she’s completely bare but for her chemise and stockings. There’s nothing to impede him. He could just…

Instead, she feels the faintest press of lips, the slight catch of his stubble against the side of her right knee though the silk. And how had she never realized before that her knees were this sensitive? His hands run soothingly along the backs of her stockings until she’s able to slightly regain her balance, reaching out to grip at ornate armrests. And then she can feel his hands moving inward to press her knees further apart, bringing a fresh wave of heat spreading beneath her skin and down to her pool low in her belly.

As his hands grasp at her thighs, she feels strangely aware of the cool weight of his wedding ring gliding across her skin, the rightness of its presence. She glances down at its mate on her own left hand. And then her whole world narrows to the feel of his hot mouth traveling up along her inner thighs, the dragging lips and the slight rasp of his jaw along the sensitive skin there. Her eyes flutter closed at the sensation, drawing in little shaky breaths as she imagines the flushed trails he leaves behind.

The sudden hard edge of teeth biting into the softness of her thigh has her nearly jolting out of her seat. Guildford immediately soothes the sting with his tongue. Jane gasps at the feel of it, surprised at her enjoyment of the slight edge of pain mixed with the pleasure of his lips and tongue. Not hearing any protests, he repeats the gesture, a bare inch away from the last mark, and she can feel him practically growling into her thigh as he sinks his teeth a little harder into the skin there. Jane lets out a shuddery moan at the feel of it, skirting just the edge of too much.

Showing uncharacteristic mercy on her, Guildford continues his journey upward, delivering gentler nips and sucking kisses along the soft skin. She can feel herself half trembling, winding tighter and tighter as he nears his goal, her sex already slick with want. He’s so close…

But just as he nears, Guildford suddenly switches to her other thigh, repeating the same maddening treatment until she’s practically keening. Jane already feels like she’s vibrating out of her skin and he’s still so far from where she actually wants him. She shivers as soft curls brush against the already over sensitized skin of her right thigh as he works his way up the leftmost. Each bite draws out another hiss of pleasure followed by a moan as he sucks what’s she sure is an additional bruise along the still unmarked skin.

Finally, finally , he’s delivering a final nip to the top of one thigh and then he pauses there, breathing deeply. She shudders at the feel of warm breath against her cunt as he breathes out again. Her thighs try to press together at the sensation but are halted by Guildford’s strong shoulders. His hands pull them even further apart, as his face presses closer. Her clit is already throbbing as he noses against her curls, and she practically shouts when his tongue finally drags over her, tasting her.

This time, he doesn’t tease, lapping into her immediately, parting her with his tongue. Her face heats at the wet sound of it, muffled as it is by her skirts, but she doesn’t pull away. His tongue strokes broadly at first before delving into her folds. He swiftly finds her clit, alternating little flicks and flutters of his tongue followed by suckling at the little bundle of nerves until she’s writhing in her seat.

“Guildford, ” a steady stream of moans and his name pours from her lips every time he gets something just right.

His tongue travels further down, dipping into her entrance. She’s only ever had the touch of her own fingers there before and the soft heat of his tongue as it presses into her nearly has her bucking her hips against him. She can feel him chuckle at the aborted twitch of her hips as she tries to restrain herself, but the inward glide of his tongue does nothing to help.

And suddenly, she can’t stand not being able to see any of what is happening beneath her skirt, wanting desperately to see his face as he pleasures her, and tangle her fingers in his dark curls.

“Guildford, wait…”

He halts immediately, drawing back from beneath her skirts to search her face for any indication that this is too much for her. But Jane merely sucks in a breath at the sight of his own face, flushed pink and glistening with sweat, all the way down his throat to what she can just glimpse of his chest between the vee of his shirt. His curls are in complete disarray. And worst of all that vexing mouth of his is now red and shiny from what she blushes to realize is her. Jane aches at the sight.

“I wanted to see you,” she confesses.

Guildford’s face lights up at her words, apparently having thought she meant to reject him once more. With a sharp burst of fondness that surprises her, Jane reaches out to take his face in her hands, running her fingers along his relieved smile. He presses into her fingers, turning his face to kiss at the center of her palms. With one of her hands she reaches up to press back damp curls from his forehead, soothing along it. With the other she glides it back to tangle in his soft curls as she had been so desperate to just moments ago, unconsciously drawing him toward her.

His pleased expression curls into a grin. “If anyone walks in now they might get an eyeful.”

And she can see exactly what he means. Her skirts are bunched around her thighs - which are now covered in lines of pink and faint bruises - her stockings barely holding on. But in between them is Guildford, flushed even pinker and on his knees before her. She should be embarrassed but all she feels in this moment is powerful.

“All they’ll see is you serving your Queen,” she retorts, and doesn’t miss Guildford’s shudder at her words.

Her hands slide deeper into his curls to grip at the locks, delighting at the sight of her husband’s eyes nearly rolling back, his lips parting at the slight tug. An even stronger pull has him moaning, but still grinning up at her. Jane laughs. Neither one of them has ever been good at giving in.

Still, he goes willingly as she guides him back to where she’s aching. It takes them a moment to rearrange her gown so that it’s out of the way but then he’s pressing back in, tongue picking up just where it left off.

Where it left off was driving her slowly insane, the delicious in and out of his clever tongue. Still keeping a firm grip on his curls, she guides him back up to her clit when it has started to feel neglected, and he’s quick to wrap his lips around it, swirling his tongue around her. His eyes flick up to meet hers and she gasps at the intensity of his gaze.

His tongue moves down to dip into her again, and at the slight tease of it she tightens her grip to press him deeper. Guildford groans, eyes briefly slipping closed at the sensation and she can feel the sound vibrate through her. Jane suddenly wants more.

With one hand she keeps hold of him, pressing him into her, while the other shifts to run through his wild curls, occasionally scratching at his scalp with blunted nails. Each motion draws out a new little noise from her husband and she feels them all reverberating shiveringly through her cunt. His tongue is practically fucking her now, and she can feel her hips trying to match his rhythm.

Jane tries to stop herself, but Guildford’s hands run soothingly along her outer thighs, petting at her hips and encouraging them to rock back, riding against the thrust of his tongue. Like this, his lips and nose occasionally bump against her clit, but it’s not quite enough.

“I need…” she starts, not sure exactly what she intends to say.

Thankfully Guildford seems to guess at it, the way she’s tilting her hips against him. His right hand abandons her hip to wrap around her thigh and slip between them. Like this he’s able to press his palm against her belly, thumb slipping down to slickly circle her clit in time with the motion of his tongue, leaving her trembling above him. In Guildford’s dark eyes she can read how much he wants this too, how lost he is in her pleasure, in his adoration of her.

Her hands can’t stop running over any part of him she can touch - his hair, his shoulders, his jaw - and he hums his pleasure at each touch deep within her. The sensation is almost too much as her hips buck helplessly against him, legs shaky with effort. She can feel her inner walls clenching with each plunge of his tongue inside her, her whole body thrumming with need.

“Guildford, ” she breathes out.

She can feel what must be her own name moaned into her as Guildford clutches roughly at her hip, pressing her into his fingers and mouth as he drags her screaming over the edge. Wave after wave of pleasure flows through her as the muscles of her core tense and release with the continued onslaught of his tongue, the ceaseless press of his thumb against her clit. When it finally gets to be too much, he eases her down from it, gentling his tongue and fingers until she only feels soft little kittenish licks and the shuddery tremors that follow.

Eventually, she draws him back from him, huffing out a giggle as he wipes his face on the edge of her gown. Guildford raises himself up on unsteady legs to press his lips to hers, mouth still slick with her release. Her body gives one last little tremble at the taste of herself on his tongue. She never wants to stop kissing him, but eventually they have to break apart for air.

“Thorough enough for you, Your Majesty?” Guildford asks rather breathlessly, reaching up to straighten her crown where it’s tipped forward.

“Full marks for pronunciation,” she laughs.

He winks back at her.

“You can correct my Latin anytime.”

#save my lady jane #my lady jane #lady jane grey #guildford dudley #janeford #throne room #banter #my fics #my writing #fanfiction

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arctroopertinky · 3 months

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Look Towards the Future Ch3: Guilt

Captain Rex x FemaleJedi!Reader

Words: 7.9k

Summary: Guilt makes you do something you regret. Rex is hurt, but realizes something important.

Warnings: Nightmare / Hurtful confrontation / Self deprecation / Vomiting / Alcohol use

A/N: If you'd like to read ahead of what's available on Tumblr, feel free to click the link to the fic on AO3!

AO3 Link / Previous Chapter / Next Chapter / Master List

You found yourself in a briefing room with Anakin, Ahsoka, and Rex to discuss the events of the last mission. However, you noticed that the words that came out of your comrades’ mouths were muffled and ineligible. But, they all seemed extremely invested in their own conversation, so you thought it was best not to interrupt them. You were content simply standing there patiently, you felt strangely relaxed, but thought nothing of it. Then, they all turned to you in unison, looking concerned and perplexed.

“Y/n, I asked you a question, are you not listening to me?” Anakin asked you, sounding clearly annoyed.

“Uhh…” You couldn’t come up with a lie. “I a-apologize Master Skywalker, can you please repeat what you said to me?” You requested.

Anakin rolled his eyes. “I said; why didn’t you help us?”

You started to look confused. “Help you with what, Master?”

“Help us get off that planet alive, y/n.”

Your chest immediately tightened as fear corrupted your senses. “What...?”

Ahsoka interjected with a stark haste as they all began to march towards you at a steady pace. “You left us there to die! How could you do that to us?”

You jumped a mighty distance back in response to the gap closing between you and your interrogators. But they kept coming. “Please!” You found that you were sobbing, but you did not know when you started. “You know me, I didn’t leave you behind! I would never have done that to any of you!” None of them seem phased by your defense. “I had no choice!”

“Did you really?” Rex sneered . Your attention, which was on Anakin and Ahsoka, swiftly geared towards the clone, whose armor and helmet suddenly changed to that of your old Captain.

“I trusted you- no!” Rory leaned in extremely close to your face, aggressively hitting his index finger against your chest. “We trusted you! I thought we meant more to you, I thought I meant more to you!” You couldn’t see his face, but you could almost hear the tears falling from the Captain’s eyes, you could only imagine his pain. His anger.

“Please…!” You begged. Heaving in between words. “There was no way for me to save you…” You stared deeply into the Captain’s helmet, your mouth hung open in absolute distress. “I’m sorry, Rory…” The Captain showed no reaction to your words. Instead, he said nothing as he swiftly forced one of his hands around your throat.

“You should have died, not us.”

You shot up with a gasp, sweat glazed your body as your mind raced. You had another nightmare. Ever since the incident they threatened your sleep and corrupted many of your dreams. You clutched your shirt as your breaths ran at a panicked tempo. This continued for many minutes as Coruscant’s sun continued to rise, illuminating the bustling skies of the galaxy’s capital as your breaths finally began to separate more and more.

Once you regained control over yourself, you urged your body to swivel to the edge of the bed, placing one foot onto the floor, and then the other. Your quarters in the Jedi Temple used to look a lot… different. On your lone dresser used to be items you would collect from your previous missions. Sometimes, they were gifted to you from the clones of your lost battalion. But ever since the incident, however, you threw all of your items into a box and swept it under your bed. You quarters, that were once bright and inviting, now looked dull, as though nobody had been living there for some time. All that seemed to exist in your quarters now was the minimal furniture that the order sought to provide all jedi for their quarters. Despite the sunlight that made its way through the window, your quarters continued to maintain a melancholy substance to it.

You prepared yourself for the meeting ahead. To allow you to heal from your injuries, it was decided that it would be best to move the post mission briefing from late that night to late in the morning the next day. You were completely healed, but you moved about your quarters like a corpse. You forced your clothes upon you in reluctance, and you cringed as you felt your clothes bump against your scars, never letting you forget what had been tormenting your mind for weeks now.

You then equipped your robe awkwardly, you immediately pulled the hood over your head as if you wanted to hide from yourself and the world around you. You still weren’t used to wearing your jedi robes so much. Unlike many other jedi in the order, you preferred not to wear your robe very often. You only did so if it was necessary because you preferred how free you felt without your robe, all it did in your eyes was slow you down. Now, however, you wore your robe constantly. Your clothes covered up only most of your scars, so your robe was your tool to prevent you, and any others from seeing what made you feel so ashamed. Any sliver of a hopeful demeanor you had the day prior was swept away by your nightmare, both living and dreaming. Any thought that you might have done any good for the 501st was gone with it.

You buckled your belt around your waist, then silently approached your door as you heard it begin to exclaim with a hiss. Once it was open, you took a single step into the outside world. But then you paused in confusion before your hands instinctively reached down to feel your belt. You sighed and twisted your upper half to look back into the quarters. You forgot your lightsabers on the dresser. You lifted one of your hands up, attempting to call out to the force, asking it to bring the lightsabers into your grasp. But to your dismay, the force did not respond back, you couldn’t even feel it within you. The familiarity you lost the day before still did not return to you. Asking the force turned to begging turned to pleading as you strained your hand, desperate to see your sabers fly to you. You almost broke into a sweat as you felt the rest of your body straining the more you needed to feel the force again. But… nothing. Those sabers stayed in the exact spot you left them the night before. You didn’t want to cry, but you also did? But you couldn’t? You just stood there, staring blankly at your sabers. After a couple of brief moments, you lowered your hand in defeat, deflating the tension you allowed yourself to accrue. You reversed your step back into your quarters and grabbed your sabers, one in each hand. You looked down at your sabers as they sat in your open palms, eyebrows furrowed and mouth hung in an obtuse frown. Then, you closed your hands around the weapons, your grip tightening until it hurt. Your eyes squinted at the sensation before you attached your sabers to your belt. You took one last look at your empty quarters, and then at the box beneath your bed. You then turned to fulfill your duties, and your door snapped shut.

- - -

Upon the Resolute, you stared at the door of the briefing room. You knew you were about to be late, but the thought of entering through that door ate at your insides like an animal. You were hesitating to save yourself some comfort, but you could feel the prying eyes of dozens of clones as they walked by, locked on the lone jedi staring at a door. That was enough to push you closer. But before the door could detect your presence, you heard your name from behind you. As you turned to face the source of the greeting, you realized it was Rex, somehow just as late as you were.

“General y/n.” Rex said, approaching you kindly. “It’s good to see you this morning, how are your injuries?” He inquired. His helmet was not on his head, but was instead being supported by his right arm and hip as he held it in his hand. You noticed his warm smile that creased the sides of his eyes and flared his nostrils ever so slightly. He looked happy to see you, and you felt so guilty.

“I-... I am fine Captain, thank you.” You responded coldly. Finding yourself unable to face Rex, all you could think to do next was to turn yourself back towards the door to the briefing room before you could see the Captain’s reaction. You then entered the room, hearing the Captain follow you at a distance as he equipped his helmet.

The briefing room contained Anakin and Ahsoka, with Obi-Wan Kenobi and Mace Windu accompanying the pair. They all stood patiently in a wide circle as they looked over in response to the door rushing open, their eyes meeting you and the Captain.

“Master y/n, Captain Rex.” Mace Windu acknowledged. “Please come in, we are to discuss yesterday's mission.” You filed in and found a spot in the circle that was the farthest you could be away from anyone. You found some relief when you realized that Rex found a spot on the opposite end of where you stood. But, some more anxiety and guilt found you when you realized how easily he could see you.

The meeting dragged at an agonizing pace as you struggled to pay attention to the discussion at hand. All you could think about was your old battalion, and how you failed them. You thought about your nightmare and what Rory said during it; that you should have died. If there was something you could have done to save your troopers, you considered that maybe it would have been worth trading your life for theirs. The thoughts chewed at your brain. And what made everything that much worse was the Captain standing in the room with you. Even without the force you could feel his eyes piercing right through you. With hurt? Anger? Confusion? You couldn’t even begin to guess what he could have been thinking about you. You felt bad for how you brushed the Captain off, but the guilt you were feeling about your troopers dying while you were allowed to live made interacting with him too much to bear, despite how much you surprisingly enjoyed his presence during the battle. You felt like you were an embarrassment to the Grand Army of the Republic for your failure. And therefore, you didn’t deserve any of their kindness or their sympathy.

“Y/n?”

You snapped out of your thoughts. “W-what?” Your eyes zipped over to the Masters. They were waiting patiently for your response to something.

“Did you hear what I said?” Mace Windu inquired. His stance was dominating in comparison to Obi-wan’s, his eyes pierced yours with mysterious inquiry, making your insides curl at his seriousness. It took so much of yourself to look them in the eyes.

“I apologize Master, I did not hear that last part.” You admitted, trying to seem collected. “Would you mind repeating what you said?” Luckily, or unluckily for you, they showed no emotional response to your statement or your request.

“You seemed to have done a good job on your first mission back on the field, you were able to take down many battle droids.” Obi-wan started. “But we have also heard reports that at some point, you were unable to fend off a small portion of an enemy company. Can you please explain what led to this happening?”

Uh oh. This was an interrogation.

“Um…” You squeezed out, feeling sweat begin to permeate throughout your body as your eyes widened ever so slightly. Suddenly you remembered why the two masters were likely here in the first place; to keep track of you and your emotions.

You didn’t know whether to lie to the Master or tell the truth. “Well, what happened was…” You could feel all eyes penetrate yours as they struggled to maintain contact with the two jedi. Time was running out, and you had to say something. But, as you were about to come up with a lie on the spot, you were interrupted.

“General Windu, if I may.” Rex began. “General y/n made herself quite busy with the battle droids. She took down more in one mission than I ever could in a dozen.” All of the attention was on him now. “I saw it happen, while she was distracted a battle droid took a shot at her from behind at its first opportunity, then she was surrounded. I’ve seen this exact thing happen to General Skywalker and Tano many times, it’s nothing to fault her for.” You couldn’t help now but to look at the Captain. Your eyes, now as wide as they could be, stayed locked onto Rex. Your mouth slightly hung open in surprise and your lungs refused to take in any air. Did he just lie for you?

Then, their heads turned back towards you. Your eyes remained placed on the Captain until you realized what they were waiting for. They needed an answer.

“He’s telling th-the truth, Master.” You mentally screamed at yourself to stop the stuttering as you forced your eyes back onto the Masters. “A blaster shot took me down, and the droids took the opportunity to surround me.” Mace Windu clearly didn’t look entirely convinced, one eyebrow remained raised high above the other. He clearly wanted to say something, but Obi-wan peered over at the jedi master next to him with a bit of concern in his eyes before he decided to cut in.

“Well, we’re glad to see that you have fully recovered, Master y/n.” Obi-wan said, before reinstating his dialogue to the rest of the room. “I’m sure you all will be given another mission shortly, be prepared.” He advised. Anakin decided to start making half-joking statements about being the best general with the best battalion who is always prepared for their missions (a complete lie). As the two jedi went back and forth with their brotherly banter, you noticed that Mace Windu still had a look of suspicion in his eyes as he observed the quips being made, his mind was still clearly crowded in thoughts, and it made you extremely grateful that he decided not to interrogate you further.

- - -

Eventually, the humorous conversation died out, and everyone began to return to their duties once more. First it was Obi-wan and Mace Windu, the latter taking one more swift look at you before the door closed shut behind him. Next, it was Ahsoka, who stated she had some personal training to do before the day ended. Then, with the population of the room dwindling, you swiftly took the opportunity to take your leave. You tried to act as normal as possible, but you horrifically failed in front of Anakin and Rex. Now, all that was left was the General and his Captain.

Rex stared at the closed door restlessly. Both regretting that he lied to his superiors and feeling invigorated at the same time. His fingers twitched in his desperation to leave. The Captain turned to his General and gave him an impatient salute, then turned to the door and started his speedy escape.

“Hold up there, Rex.”

The Captain froze, he did what he was told as an anxiety creeped into his chest and locked it tight. He forced his body to turn back towards Anakin.

“Sir? Is there something you need?” Rex inquired. Anakin had a certain look on his face, one full of questions, but Rex couldn’t make out what the General planned on doing with it.

“So about what happened back there…” Anakin took a step towards Rex. “Did you lie for her?”

Oh shit.

Rex, lucky to have his helmet on, struggled to keep his eyes on his Captain as his attempt of an excuse came out as a bunch of stutters and ums and buts. After an agonizing moment of this, Anakin put his hand up to signal Rex to stop.

“Rex, buddy, chill.” Anakin approached Rex and placed a hand on his shoulder. “No one is in trouble, I just want to know what the hell that was about.”

Rex took a deep breath. “Well, you see- General, I-... She-...” As the stuttering continued, Anakin’s eyes gradually glazed over. Rex tried to make any sort of sense, he really did. But he seemed to be in no position to stop himself.

“Rex.”

Rex shut up.

“Listen…” Anakin rubbed his eyes with his index finger and thumb. “I don’t want to torture you for the details. Just… humor me for a moment.” Anakin requested. Rex took a big gulp, before nodding his head silently.

“Do you know what happened to y/n before she was assigned to this battalion?”

Rex took a moment to think on what to say next.

“Not exactly. But… I have theories.” Rex answered truthfully.

“Well just so you know, her entire battalion got wiped out in one mission.” Rex’s posture visibly stiffened. “Don’t try to ask me how it happened. The Council didn’t bother to give me the details.” Anakin begrudgingly explained to the Captain. The General took a step back from Rex, relinquishing his hand from the Captain’s shoulder. “I can tell when I shouldn’t involve myself in certain things, Rex. But… when it comes to whatever happened during yesterday’s mission… is that going to put you, or me, or Ahsoka, or any of your men at risk?” Anakin stared into Rex’s visor with a powerful intent. Rex had to respond.

“No, General.” Rex wasn’t sure if this was a lie. “Of course not.”

Anakin studied his Captain for a couple more moments, pupils dancing slightly as they observed each edge and shine of his visor. Anakin, whether he could see it or not, was looking right into Rex’s eyes, and that made him nervous. No, it made him feel guilty. But against Rex’s expectations, he saw a smile creep onto his General’s lips.

“Welp, I’m convinced,” Anakin stated with a pep. Rex, out of sheer confusion to this reaction, cocked his head slightly to the side.

“What?” Anakin shrugged his shoulders. “I trust your judgment Rex. If you say that everything is fine, I’m going to believe you.”

A smile began to develop underneath Rex’s helmet. “I appreciate that, General.” This warm exchange lasted for only a moment, before Anakin began to step towards the door.

“Listen, I have to go. But, Rex?” Anakin stopped himself as the door hissed open. “You’ve been looking tense recently, you should think about actually having some fun soon, instead of being such a square all the time.” Rex scoffed at the comment, but before he could make up some sort of comeback, Anakin was long gone.

Once again, Rex was the last to leave a briefing. He thought to himself for a moment, pondering why he rushed to your defense. His first thought was that you were simply part of the team now, and he always helped his own. But, Rex never lies, not when he doesn’t think it’s necessary. He could count on one finger how many times he has lied for the sake of someone else. Hell, he’s barely ever even done it to save his own skin. Why are you deserving of such a privilege? What made you so special to garner his attention in this way?

Then he thought about what Anakin said about your battalion, how they all died at once, leaving you to be the sole survivor. At that moment, Rex put himself in your shoes. If he were to lose his entire battalion in such a way, there would be no pretending anymore. He wouldn’t be able to put on an act, that he was the Captain that the Republic needed him to be. No… he would never be able to forgive himself if a massacre of that caliber were to happen under his authority.

The image of your exposed scars flashed through Rex’s head. Oh… you were definitely right there when it happened, weren’t you? The possibility made Rex’s heart burst. He took a mighty deep breath in, before huffing it out all at once. Rex wanted to sit with these thoughts, but unfortunately, he still had a lot of work to do, and it was time to act like the Captain he was expected to be. He would have to reconcile with these thoughts later. The door opened swiftly to reveal the Resolute. Before stepping out, Rex ensured that his armor was on correctly and his posture was proper. Once he was happy with how he presented himself, he exited the room, hearing the harsh hiss and muffled bang of the door as it closed behind him.

- - -

You didn’t really know what you were doing, waiting like this. You felt like a fool just standing here, body leaned against the wall near the briefing room. It hadn’t been that long, maybe only a few minutes, but each second felt agonizingly slow, as if time had slowed down just to torture you. Each time a clone walked past you, you kept your head down, refusing to even take a slight peak at the troopers. For all you knew they could have been saluting you, just to be met with your cold lack of a response. You tried to convince yourself that you didn’t care at that moment, but the possibility ate at your insides and refused to stop.

Suddenly, you heard footsteps that differed from any clone you’ve ever met. Despite their wide array of personalities, each clone’s footsteps had a similar ring to them that you familiarized yourself with extensively, enough to discern if one was walking near you without you even needing to check. But these steps clearly did not belong to any clone. You lifted you back off the wall as you stiffened into a professional posture. You tried your best to warp your face into a natural expression, but without a mirror you were lost to how you truly looked. Either way, there was no more time, the figure turned the corner for Anakin to be revealed.

“Oh…!” Anakin stopped in his tracks. “Master y/n, I did not realize that you were still around.” He gave you a warm smile, and you struggled to keep your eyes on his. “If you weren’t in a rush to get anywhere, you could have stayed in the briefing room for a bit longer. You know that, right?”

You plastered a smile on your face, mimicking the jedi’s. “Of course, Master Skywalker.” You quietly began. “I just needed some time to myself is all.”

Anakin’s eyes drifted about his surroundings. As it was the middle of the day, the staff of the Resolute strolled up and down this hallway quite frequently. If you really needed to be alone, Anakin knew that you knew that this was not the place to be. But, it wasn’t his business to call you out on your obvious lie.

“I understand.” He responded kindly. “But if you need anything, please let me know… Don’t be afraid to ask for help, okay?”

Anakin’s eyes looked deep into yours with an unwavering care. You felt bad about it.

“Thank you Master Skywalker, but I’m okay.” You strengthened your eye contact. “Truly.”

He looked at you for another moment, you could see a twinge of concern in his eyes. But yours lied for you, they looked back at his and told him that you were telling the truth. Anakin wasn’t completely convinced, but he backed off anyway. His typical demeanor returned to him and he bid you a good day before continuing his walk through the Resolute, out of your sight.

You sighed as you leaned yourself back against the wall, hands combing at your hair under your hood, slowing against the grain. But then you heard a new set of footsteps, one you were able to recognize. You stiffened but remained laid back against the wall, trying to act as natural as possible. You heard the footsteps approach your hallway, but then begin to fade away. You turned your head to see Rex, who you wanted to see, but he was walking the opposite way than you’d hope. You would have to get his attention.

“Captain.” You saw Rex halt in his tracks, then turn around to face you.

“General y/n!” Rex greeted, “I thought you left a while ago.” He approached you with energized steps. “Do you need anything?” He swiftly removed his helmet and perched it in between his right arm and his side. He clearly was trying to hide it, but he couldn’t help but let a smile creep across his face. This was going to suck.

You took a hard look at him, screaming at yourself to not let go of the eye contact. “Why did you lie for me back there?”

This clearly threw Rex off. “W-what do you mean, lie?” Rex’s eyes were the first to break the contact as they bounded back and forth between you and your surroundings. His feet took turns favoring one another and the smile quickly faded from his face. “I-I was just telling them what I saw, General. I…” His attempt at words faded into the background as you began to think. The obvious lack of honesty made you all the more upset at the current situation. This was dragging on long enough.

“Rex-!” You rubbed your eyes with one hand as his silence crept in.” “Just- please… I don’t know what you saw out there, and I’m grateful that you bothered to help me yesterday. But please, whatever you think you’re doing by lying for me…” you almost didn’t want to continue, but you believed that this was for the best, “just STOP.” You put your other hand up to exaggerate your point, your fingers outstretched in half-genuine frustration.

“Stop what, General?” Rex looked at your extended hand and back at you, his eyes bouncing between the two sights. Then, his eyes locked onto yours, and his eyebrows furrowed, telling you he was genuinely confused and hurt. His expression poked a hole in your heart. But you had to prevail.

“Stop trying to help,” you said plainly. You tried to make your face look more stern. Rex’s eyes widened a bit to express more hurt. “I don’t understand why you’re even doing this, we aren’t friends, and I barely even know you.” You crossed your arms and turned slightly away from him, your head angled towards the floor to hide the regret that spread across your face. “Just… stop it, before you start to make things worse.” You couldn’t bear to look back at the Captain. There were so many things you wished you could say instead of what you forced yourself to express. You listened as Rex’s armor pieces rubbed together as he shifted his posture. Then there was silence for a while, and you weren’t even sure if the Captain was there anymore, but you still didn’t have the courage to look.

“I apologize General,” Rex stated sincerely, but almost robotically, “I didn’t mean to bother you or intrude on your business.” Then there was a bit more uncomfortable silence, before you heard Rex finally turn around and walk away from you towards his destination. The familiar footsteps gradually died down, until they were finally gone.

You let out a breath you didn’t even realize you were holding in. You let yourself go from your defensive position to look up and confirm that the Captain was no longer in your presence. Then it hit you that you were all alone, and you were without a clone who cared once again. But, this is what you wanted right? To be alone, so you couldn't be a burden on another clone again? So you could focus on the retribution you owed to these men? The thought should have made you feel better, but the guilt continued to creep up your chest and into your throat as you found yourself walking back to your quarters in the Jedi Temple.

You found yourself once again ignoring the clones who acknowledged you as you walked past them. The progress you made from your first mission with the 501st had completely disappeared. As you made it to your door, the guilt within your throat seemed unbearable. Or maybe it wasn’t guilt… oh shit.

You practically threw yourself into the refresher down the hall as the vomit made its way into your mouth. You just managed to stick your face into a toilet before the liquid poured its way out. You had to kneel there for a few moments as your body attempted to wretch more and more nutrients from your stomach. Luckily, nothing else came out of you, but it surely left you winded.

Your hands gripped the seat as you struggled to lift yourself up from the floor, your arms shaking from your weight. As you stood, you peered downwards at the mess you created in the bowl below, and a look full of disgust and distress filled your face. You questioned your choices as the mechanism automatically cleaned up the mess you left. Was this really the right choice, to be alone? To tell the first clone to show you any genuine care since you lost the ones you held so dear to stop caring felt so wrong to you in this moment, despite the mental protests you presented to your heart. Maybe rest is what you really needed… You turned to leave the refresher, but you caught yourself in the mirror. Despite your mental objections you took a closer look, but you did not like what you were seeing. Instead of the confident and powerful jedi you were just weeks ago, all that was left was a broken woman. Dark circles haunted your under-eyes. Your eyelids were heavy from exhaustion but your eyebrows possessed a tireless anxiety that morphed the upper portion of your face.

You looked at yourself for a few moments, feeling even more dread and guilt build up inside you. Eventually you were able to tear yourself away from the sight, and you exited the refresher, heading towards your quarters. You hoped that getting some rest would undo the burden you felt within you.

- - -

Rex stepped out of the air taxi, his feet reunited with the ground beneath him as he peered up at his destination: fucking 79s. Ugh, why was he here again? Oh… right.

(‘Rex!’ Fives yelled to his Captain as he walked past. ‘What the hell man? You can’t even say hello to your brother when he greets you? That’s fucked up!’ Rex slowly turned towards his fellow trooper to reveal a face littered with depressive features. This caused Five’s joking demeanor to quickly diminish.

‘Rex… you good?’ Fives approached his Captain swiftly, ‘I haven’t seen you look this down since… I don’t even know how long! What’s up?’

Rex took a moment to consider if he should tell the truth. ‘Fives, I appreciate the concern, but I don’t think this is something I want to talk about right now.’

Fives clearly looked annoyed at the lack of his desired response. ‘Bullshit, Rex! There’s no way you don’t want to talk about this right now, you look absolutely distraught!’ Fives then looked as though he was deep in thought, before a devilish grin appeared across his mouth. ‘You know what you need Rex?’ Fives asked his captain.

Rex genuinely looked a bit confused. ‘No actually, I don’t.’ Annoyance poked through his response.

‘I think you need a trip to 79s tonight!’ Fives looked extremely proud at his ability to come up with this answer. ‘What do you say?’

Rex rolled his eyes. ‘No. Absolutely not. You’re not just going to drag me there just so I can watch you and the others get drunk again.’

Fives let out a hardy laugh. ‘Come on Rex! Maybe you should try getting drunk too for once!’

‘Yeah, no.’

‘Don’t be such a square Captain.’ Fives said, pretending to be annoyed. ‘You’re always so serious! About the mission, or the Republic, or staying focused… What is with you man? Just loosen up! You’re always so tense, maybe you’re even a little more tense than normal.’

Rex’s nose crinkled in reaction. ‘I am not always tense, I know how to relax without putting my ability to lead in jeopardy.’

‘Whatever you say, Captain.’ Fives rolled his eyes, ‘I don’t think that I’m going to convince you…’ Fives put his arm around Rex’s shoulders to prevent his escape, ‘so I’m deciding for you, you’re coming to 79s with me tonight!’

‘Please no.’ Rex begged.

‘Too late, the plan is set!’ Fives exclaimed as he squeezed Rex twice as hard. All Rex could do at this point was grumble in protest as Fives suddenly made himself sparse.)

Rex filled up his lungs before sighing it all out. The bright lights decorating the exterior forced him to squint as he regretfully made his way into the establishment. The inside wasn’t much better. Despite all of the bright decor it was way too dark, the music was loud enough to pound his chest, and dozens of clones and civvies crowded the interior around him, causing a need for him to push past them as they ignored his need to advance deeper. They were clearly annoyed at this, but Rex didn’t care so much, he just wanted to get this night over with.

“Rex, over here!” Rex heard a trooper yell. He cocked his head to see Fives and Echo sitting at a table together. Typically, more of his brothers would be a part of this entourage, but luckily for Rex he would only have to deal with two drunk troopers tonight. Rex begrudgingly made his way over to the table, dodging clones and the civvies they attempted to flirt with along the way, and took a seat with his brothers. Accompanying Echo was a simple glass of neat liquor, something that he politely sipped at every couple of minutes or so. Fives however, had a couple of glasses full of a liquor that Rex was unable to identify, most likely due to his inexperience. But, either way, his brother had multiple beverages ready at the table, patiently waiting to be drunk.

“Well well, I’m honestly a bit shocked to see you here Captain,” Fives said with a relaxed smile smudged across his face.

Rex scoffed at the comment, “and why’s that?”

“Because you looked the saddest I’ve seen you in a while,” Fives explained before taking a small swig of his drink, “I half expected you to hide in your quarters all night.”

“My goodness Fives, how many times am I going to have to tell you tonight that I’m fine?” Rex rolled his eyes at his brother as Echo gave Rex a slightly concerned look.

“We don’t have to be completely sober to see that you’re not doing well Rex. What, did you have a bad day or something?” Echo inquired.

Rex shifted uneasily in his seat, “yeah, you can say that.”

“Are you going to tell us what’s going on?”

Rex considered telling Echo the truth, but then Fives caught his eye. “Uh, no. I’m good.” Rex answered, realizing he did not want to talk about this with his clearly drunk brother. Echo lifted one of his eyebrows in wanting curiosity.

“Lay off him, Echo, I bet he got rejected by some girl.” Fives interjected. In response to the comment Echo and Rex turned to look at Fives with extremely perplexed and irked expressions. Fives’s eyes bounded between his brothers for a moment, their silence allowed for the pounding music to take center stage. Fives shrugged his shoulders.

“What? I’m drunk, sometimes crazy shit comes to mind and I gotta say it.” Fives then noticed the still full glasses of booze sitting on the table, and he looked back at his Captain appearing absolutely shocked. “Rex! I got these for the table!” Fives impatiently grabbed one of the glasses and shoved it in Rex’s face. Fives almost splashed the drink in his face, but the liquid managed to stay in its glass as it rocked up to the rim. “Drink up! I don’t wanna see your sad mug anymore!”

“You know I don’t really like to drink, Fives…” Rex responded. But Fives wouldn’t relent, the drink maintained its spot in Rex’s vision, completely blocking out his view of Echo and most of the cantina. Finally, Rex regretfully took the glass into his hand to satisfy his intoxicated brother. Then, with a big smile on his face, Fives brought his glass into the air for a toast. Echo lifted his half drunk glass as well, eventually followed by Rex, despite his silent protests.

“What are we toasting to, exactly?” Echo inquired. Fives’s eyebrows immediately furrowed in drunken thought. A response took a lot longer than expected to resonate within the trooper.

“Uhhh… I don’t know…” Fives’s eyes then lit up. “How about we toast to our latest victory… Here's to beating the Separatists!” Fives immediately shot his drink down his throat. Echo smiled and chuckled at his brother, before finishing the rest of his drink as well, being way more polite and patient than Fives. Rex studied his drink before slowly raising it to his lips to take a small sip. His nose and his eyes crinkled at the bitter taste.

Luckily, Fives was extremely preoccupied by getting wasted to notice Rex’s responsible drinking as he quickly gathered another drink into his hands. “Let’s do another toast, shall we?” He asked excitedly. “How about we toast to our new General, for taking down all of those clankers… and for not being too bad on the eyes either.”

Rex, who had decided to take another light sip before processing what his brother had said, blew out into his glass, causing some of the liquid to splash above the rim. The sound took Echo’s attention away from Fives’s drunken activities, his eyes grew a bit wider in reaction to Rex’s face being covered in the alcoholic liquid. Once Fives chugged his drink down, he slammed the glass to the table and let out a holler in reaction to the taste. A smile corrupted him when he looked at his brother.

“Damn Rex, that struck a nerve.” Fives slurred. He then leaned into the table in order to get closer to Rex, who was sitting across from him. “Don’t tell me you actually got rejected by a girl.”

“Fives, I didn't-”

“A fuckin jedi no less!”

For some reason the Captain’s face burned up at the thought as Fives laughed hysterically. He had never thought about you in that light before, but somehow a mere reference to it caused him to react in such a way. He immediately chalked it up to pure embarrassment. No one should be talking about a General in this way, you were owed way more respect than what Fives was shitting out.

“Fives!” Rex yelled, causing Fives to whip his head back towards his Captain. Echo cocked one of his eyebrows, Fives, however, looked mostly unfazed. The two additional shots had clearly worked their way through him quickly, his eyelids appeared heavier as he stared at his captain with a confused expression.

“What..?” His eyes blinked at two different times.

Rex’s hand cupped his forehead in frustration, before it slowly made its way down his face, flattening his nose as they met and taking the booze on his face with it. “You shouldn’t talk about the General like that.”

“Why not? She’s hot.”

Strangely, a bit of rage twinged from within Rex. Not enough to make him act out, but it was enough to make him suddenly sit up straight in his chair, causing Fives to react minimally. “She is our General and we owe her some respect.” Rex stated, trying to sound composed.

Fives blew a raspberry, “whatever Captain,” He saluted, his hand completely missing his head, “I didn’t mean to disrespect your girlfriend.”

“She’s not my-!” Fives was long gone already, heading towards the bar to grab himself more drinks. Typically, Rex would stop Fives to prevent him from getting too drunk, but this time he let the trooper go, not wanting to deal with him at that moment. Echo laughed as he witnessed Fives bound towards the bartender.

“Well, there he goes… I don’t think we’ll be able to stop him tonight.” Echo then looked back at Rex, whose face was still extremely tense from what the other trooper had said mere moments ago. Echo’s face softened into concern.

“You still don’t want to tell me what’s going on with you?” Echo inquired.

“No, not really.” Rex glued his eyes to the distance.

“Does it really have anything to do with General y/n?”

Rex thought about it for a second.

“I don’t think she likes me very much.” Rex sighed, immediately regretting saying anything at all.

“I thought she was warming up to us after the last mission, no?” Echo asked.

“Yeah, but today we started back at square one.” Rex’s eyes darted to his barely touched drink in his hand as he raised it close to his nose. He wasn’t sure why he was sharing so much. “I think I might’ve made her upset.”

“Well…” Echo paused, “I wouldn’t take it personally like that. She’s clearly been dealing with some heavy shit recently… whatever it is. So I wouldn't be surprised if she was upset at that moment, ya know?”

Rex nodded his head, wishing he knew what more could be said to make him feel better. Echo was right, but he didn’t know everything that had happened between the two of you earlier that day. Rex wasn’t about to tell Echo about it either, but he wished he wanted to so Echo could understand more.

“Do you like her?”

What?

“What?” Rex asked.

“Do you like the General?” Echo repeated. “You seemed quite upset when Fives was talking about her.”

Rex groaned, squinting his eyes as he cringed at the question. “I really wish I didn’t have to keep repeating this, but it’s not like that at all. She is new to our battalion and I simply want her to feel as comfortable as possible. That is it.” He said sternly, somehow not totally convinced of his words.

Echo looked a bit guilty, but maintained a smile on his face. “Okay Rex, I believe you. I’m just a bit drunk is all, so I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”

A chuckle made it past Rex's uneasy feelings. “Don’t worry about it, Echo. If anyone is making me uncomfortable tonight, it’s Fives.”

Rex and Echo chatted for a while after that. Fives never came back to sit down, but they made sure he was still in eyesight as he kept drinking throughout the night with other brothers and as he attempted to talk to many women. As they spoke about whatever came to mind, Rex couldn’t help but feel conflicted about their prior conversation about you. He defended you and maintained that you were nothing more than what he hoped to be friends, like he wanted to. But for some reason he felt… off. There was this uncomfortable tightness in his chest that remained all night without any sign of withdrawing. He contemplated this feeling, but chalked it up to the guilt he was feeling about making you upset earlier that day. He really was feeling guilty about it after all, he never meant to offend you by helping you like that. He did not know what he really saw on the battlefield, but he saw an opportunity to step in during the briefing, but he guessed that he stepped in too far. The two of you seemed to have gotten along during the mission, but you treated him like a stranger before the briefing, and like some stalker after it. Rex then started to consider why he cared so much about you and about what others thought about you. He tried to ignore these feelings, this desire to know you, and enjoy his time with Echo, but the thoughts never stopped eating away at him.

He then checked the time, despite the continued high population at 79s, it was getting quite late.

“Hey, Echo, I should probably go.” Rex told his brother as he carefully got out of his seat.

Echo clearly had gotten to a comfortable drunkenness, his head rested in the palm of one hand as the other held a glass, and slowly nodded to the Captain. “Alright, I’ll see you tomorrow-” the clone was interrupted by the sound of Fives hollering in the distance, obviously having the absolute time of his life. Echo smiled, “don’t worry about him, I’ll make sure he gets back safe.”

Rex returned a smile to his brother. “I appreciate it, Echo.” Immediately Rex and Echo heard Fives let out another yell, which caused Rex to cringe in response. “I don’t think I can handle him right now…”

- - -

Rex sat in silence as he stared out the window of the air taxi. He watched as an endless line of vehicles made their way across his vision. Thousands of lights emitted across the city, all moving in unison with each other as they followed closely behind one another patiently. His eyelids were growing heavy, so in order to keep himself awake he outlined every detail he could make out of each air speeder he could easily see. Their colors, their models, even their imperfections to keep himself entertained. He was able to keep this activity up until he noticed the Jedi Temple in the corner of his eye.

His heart dropped slightly as he immediately whipped his eyes towards the temple. Despite the tension that persisted in his chest, he was able to mostly get his mind off of you and what transpired earlier that day. But now that the temple was in sight, there was no forgetting about it now.

Rex, with no other option now, thought about you. He thought about when he first met you, how timid you were. But then a smile lifted the corners of his mouth as he thought about your first mission together. He saw another side of you; one that was kind and social and brave. But now? You seemed to want even less to do with Rex now. Rex’s smile fell into a slight frown as he thought about what you said to him earlier that day. Then, Rex saw your exposed scars in his mind’s eye. If his theory was right, you bore witness to something Rex fears every day. He once again considered how he would feel if he lost his battalion, and began to feel extremely embarrassed as he recognized his sympathy for you was what drove him to you in the first place. He sighed at this realization.

‘I’m definitely making things worse for her,’ Rex thought to himself. Rex then remembered what Fives said about the two of you; how you were more than friends.

‘No.’ Rex immediately thought. A Jedi and a clone were not compatible in that way for endless reasons. Besides, there was no way he would ever want that, and it’s not like you could ever be friends, not like how bonded Rex was with Anakin or Ahsoka anyway. You made yourself very clear; it was not something you wanted, so it was never going to happen. And Rex knew he would have to learn to be content with that, despite how much, for a reason becoming known to him, it hurt.

#star wars #captain rex #the clone wars #clone wars #swtcw #tcw #ct7567 #captain rex x jedi!reader #captain rex imagine #captain rex x reader #sw tcw fanfic #star wars the clone wars

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the-bad-batch-baroness · 1 year

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A Mother's Lullaby

501st & Jedi!Fem!Reader

Summary: After returning home from a long campaign, you and your soldiers find it difficult to fall asleep. Echo has a bad dream which starts a chain reaction of clones entering your room looking for a different place to sleep for the night.

Pairing: 501st & Jedi!Fem!Reader

Characters: Rex, Fives, Echo, Jesse, Hardcase, Tup, Kix, Dogma

Tags & Warnings: platonic clone cuddles, snuggles, and kisses, smidge of angst, comfort, fluff

Word Count: 3k

Author’s Note: I came up with this one from a dream I had. All gestures are 100% platonic. The lullaby the reader sings can be found here. Honestly, these boys need all the cuddles, snuggles, and love they can get. As always, please enjoy! 💚

After being away for several rotations on a long campaign with the 501st, you have finally made it back home to Coruscant. You leave your weary troops in the barracks and head towards your chambers to clean up and get some rest. You enjoy your first warm meal in what feels like forever and hop in the shower to wash the grime off your skin. You let the hot water caress your body as you stand underneath its invigorating spray, never wanting to leave the warmth.

You finish your shower, slip on your night clothes, and crawl into your bed. You nestle under the covers and take a deep breath, letting the familiar scents of your room fill your senses. There’s nothing quite like sleeping in one’s own bed. At last, you can get some good sleep. Sleep during campaigns is always a hit or miss and never the top priority, but when you’re here, when you’re home, you can sleep comfortably knowing no one is trying to end your life or the life of your men.

However, tonight you endlessly toss and turn in your bed. You're exhausted, you know it, you can feel it. You want to sleep desperately, but something is keeping you awake. You continue to toss and turn, but slumber seems to escape you. You sigh and stare up at the ceiling in defeat. So much for a good night's rest. After all those long nights on the hard ground with blaster and cannon fire, you wish for nothing more than to sleep.

Unexpectedly, you’re pulled out of your thoughts by a presence entering your room. It’s too dark to see anything, but through the force, you can see exactly who it is. “Echo?” you ask while sitting up against your pillow.

“Ah, sorry to wake you general,” Echo answers while putting an awkward hand on his neck.

“I wasn’t asleep,” you admit with a sigh as you rub your forehead. “Are you having trouble sleeping too?”

“I…” Echo begins to answer, but hesitates, unsure of how to say what he wants to say. “I had a bad dream.”

You cock your head to the side and give him a sympathetic smile. “Dreams are only dreams, Echo. They can’t hurt you.”

“Yeah,” Echo agrees half-heartedly. “I know.”

You sense he has something else to say, but he is too nervous to ask you. “Is there something else you want, Echo?” you ask to try and get him to tell you. “You know you can talk to me about anything.”

Echo opens his mouth to speak, but then closes it. He doesn’t want to step out of bounds with you as his general, but he also doesn’t want to go back to the barracks. Finally, he musters the courage and asks. “Can I sleep here tonight?”

You’re initially taken aback by the request, but your heart softens towards the tired clone. The nightmares that plague him must be horrific if he wants to sleep with his general. You think about it for a moment, but decide that it won’t hurt to let him stay the night with you. You pat the empty portion of the bed to the right of you to show him your approval. “Come here.”

Still a little wary of the idea, Echo meanders his way over to the bed and crawls from the base up to where you are. You stretch out your arm and invite him to rest his head on your chest. He obliges with a little hesitancy and you gently drape your arm over his side and back. You can feel every ounce of tension in his body escape at your touch. He breathes deeply and lets out a relaxed sigh, knowing nothing can hurt him now.

You smile at the clone clinging to you and run your fingers through his hair. As a Jedi, you’re not allowed to have attachments, but there’s nothing in the code that says you can’t show compassion. These clones. They’re children, stuck in adult bodies, fighting a war that they never asked for. They never asked to be created. They never asked to be expendable. They never asked to be slaughtered. The least you can do is to offer them some sort of comfort.

As you settle in with Echo and to try to get some rest, you sense another presence come into your room. Perhaps you should keep your room locked from now on. As the figure enters your dark room, you can see through the force that its Fives. “Looking for Echo?” you ask knowingly.

“Uh, yeah,” Fives answers with a jolt of surprise. “How’d you know?”

“The domino twins will always be inseparable,” you chuckle softly. “Where one goes, the other usually follows.”

“I didn’t think we were that predictable,” Fives rolls his eyes.

“Let’s just say that it doesn’t take a force wielder to know your thoughts,” you explain with a smile. “Would you like to join your brother?”

“I can’t sleep well without him nearby,” Fives admits as he crawls over the base of the bed and scooches next to Echo.

“Better?” you ask while looking over at him.

“Much better,” Fives answers as he nuzzles into the blankets.

You look down at both the clones now sleeping in your bed and you smile. You never thought something like this would occur, but here you are. It’s not that you don’t want them here, but you do feel a weird sense of maternal instinct as they lay there in your presence. Clearly they feel safe with you, but you’re not sure why. Other than being their General, leading them into battle, force healing their wounds, and giving them pep-talks, you’re not sure why they are attached to you.

Your thoughts are once again interrupted by a figure entering your room. You let out a slightly exasperated sigh when you realize it is yet another clone tip-toeing his way into your bedroom. “Looking for something, Jesse?” you ask the sneaking clone.

Caught by surprise, Jesse stumbles back into the wall. “Uh, well, you see,” he begins to explain in earnest. “Echo and Fives aren’t in their bunks, and they’re usually up to no good when they’re together, so I went looking for them.”

“Well, you found them,” you point out in a hushed tone. “They’re right here, sleeping with me.”

Jesse pauses as he thinks about the situation before him. “Can…” he begins to ask. “Can I sleep here too?”

“I don’t see why not,” you answer. Your bed is definitely big enough, but you’re still not sure why all these clones want to sleep in your room. They have the barracks and bunks of their own, and they sleep with all their brothers. It is odd to you, but nevertheless, you let him climb into bed with you, Echo, and Fives. He crawls over the end of the bed and situates himself on the left side of the bed, across from the others. Close, but not close enough to touch you. You smile at his reservation.

As you begin to nod off, you’re pulled awake by yet another disturbance in your room. You wonder if you’re ever going to get any sleep at this rate. You look up at the figure standing across from the bed and with a sigh you ask them what they want. “What do you need Hardcase?”

“Oh, you knew it was me, huh?” Hardcase asks with a little embarrassment.

“You have a very distinct pattern in the force,” you answer with a small yawn.

“Really?” he questions with great interest. “I do?”

“Technically, you all do,” you explain further. “So, what can I do for you?”

“Jesse, Echo, and Fives aren’t in their bunks,” Hardcase begins to explain. “I thought they went to the refresher, but when they didn’t come back, I got worried.”

You smile at him and his concern for his brothers. “Don’t worry,” you soothe. “They’re right here with me.”

“What?” he questions with reproach. “They get to sleep with you? No fair!”

“Would you like to sleep here too?” you propose, thinking one more clone wouldn’t hurt.

“Really?” he asks with excitement. “Can I?”

“Only if you keep your voice down,” you hush as you feel Echo stir under your arm.

“Oh,” he quickly whispers. “Right. Gotcha. I’ll be quiet.”

Hardcase crawls into bed next to Jesse and Jesse wraps an arm around his brother to make sure he feels included. You look around at the group of clones covering your bed and let out a small chuckle. You’re not sure how one turned into four, but there’s no going back now. You can only hope that no more wayward clones will show up in your bedroom looking for a different place to sleep or their missing brothers.

However, your thoughts betray you as you sense Kix’s force presence entering your room. Should have seen that one coming. “If you’re looking for Echo, Fives, Jesse, or Hardcase, they’re here with me,” you announce, deciding to jump to the chase.

“You sound exhausted,” Kix jests as he folds his arms. “I can make them leave, you know.”

“It’s fine,” you answer while running your fingers through Echo’s hair. You remind yourself why you began this little clone sleepover in the first place and smile softly. “Sometimes, we just need each other.”

“Amen to that,” Kix agrees. “You got room for one more?”

“Of course,” you smile at the medic. “Grab a spot wherever you can find one.”

Kix crawls over Jesse and Hardcase, kicking them playfully in the process, and flops himself across from you near the edge of the bed. He grabs a fistful of covers and nuzzles them softly. You smile wide at his childish movements. They really are just children. Children who had their childhoods stolen from them. You can’t quite reach Kix, but if you could, you would rub his back to lull him to sleep. Maker knows medics need their sleep.

No sooner does Kix settle in, do you feel another force presence enter the room. This one is a little more cautious, as if he’s contemplating that he doesn’t belong. You feel his hesitation and call out to him. “Dogma. You can come in.”

“General,” he acknowledges as he steps closer. “I don’t mean to intrude.”

“You’re not intruding, Dogma,” you reassure the hesitant clone.

“Can…” Dogma begins, still feeling like he’s not allowed to ask for this. “Can I sleep here too?”

Your heart softens at his innocent and heartfelt plea, and you smile at him. “Yes, Dogma. You’re welcome here too.”

He smiles back and crawls across the edge of the bed and nestles neatly just below Echo and Fives. You wonder about Dogma sometimes, because he keeps to himself a lot and has trouble opening up to others. You feel great reservation from him, even on the battlefield. But you’ve heard from the others that his previous general was abusive and uncaring. It breaks your heart that anyone could be so malicious towards such beautiful souls. They didn’t deserve that.

Suddenly, you feel an intense presence of sadness and fear enter your room. Your heart begins to race as the force scrunches around you. You want to jolt up out of bed, but you don’t want to disturb your sleeping clones. As the force becomes less distorted, you can finally see who it is. “Tup?” you ask with concern. “Are you okay? You scared me.”

“They left me alone,” Tup says through a shaky breath while clenching his fists. “I don’t want to be alone.”

The pain in his voice breaks your heart. Every ounce of maternal instinct in you tells you to get up and hug this sad clone until all his pain is gone, but you can’t get up at the moment, not with all these sleeping clones surrounding your every side. Instead you invite him to come join you by patting the open real estate next to your left side. “Come here, Tup.”

He rushes over to the bedside and crawls over Kix to get to your side. You open your free arm and let him rest his head on your chest. You can feel a little shake in his body so you rub his back and place your head atop his. “Shhh. It’s alright,” you soothe. “I’ve got you. Your brothers are right here with you.” You feel the force settle around him and his breathing becomes soft.

“I wish I had a mother,” Tup admits into your chest.

You're surprised by the statement, but it’s not a completely unfounded thought. The clones are test-tube babies. Copies from an original source, with no mothers to speak of. Perhaps that is why they feel safe with you. Perhaps, because you are a woman, they feel a certain level of maternal attachment to you. That’s why they feel safe. That’s why they want to sleep here with you. That’s why they relax in your presence and melt under your touch. They just want a mother.

“What’s it like having a mother?” Tup asks out of curiosity.

“I don’t really remember mine to be honest,” you answer. “I was taken from her at a young age to be trained as a Jedi.”

“Oh,” Tup answers sadly.

“But,” you continue. “I do remember that she was warm and kind. She had a good heart and would sing me lullabies to go to sleep.”

“Lullabies?” Tup wonders at the strange word.

“Yes,” you explain in a hushed tone. “Mothers sing them to their children to help them go to sleep.”

“Would you sing us a lullaby?” Tup asks as he nuzzles further into you.

You’re shocked at the question. No one has ever asked you to sing, let alone sing a lullaby. “Well, I don’t know...” you hesitate.

You feel Echo tug gently at your hem and whispers. “Please?”

There were several more ‘pleases’ and ‘mhms’ coming from the lumps on your bed. You look around at the seven sleepy clones and wonder how you got yourself into this predicament. But, their innocence captures your heart and you feel a tender fondness for their simple request. How hard could it be to sing them a lullaby? You close your eyes and think back to when you were still with your mother and try to remember the words and the tune she sang to you.

Lay down your head and I'll sing you a lullaby

Back to the years of loo-li lai-lay

And I'll sing you to sleep and I'll sing you tomorrow

Bless you with love for the road that you go

May you sail far to the far fields of fortune

With diamonds and pearls at your head and your feet

And may you need never to banish misfortune

May you find kindness in all that you meet

May there always be angels to watch over you

To guide you each step of the way

To guard you and keep you safe from all harm

Loo-li, loo-li, lai-lay

May you bring love and may you bring happiness

Be loved in return to the end of your days

Now fall off to sleep, I'm not meaning to keep you

I'll just sit for a while and sing loo-li, lai-lay

May there always be angels to watch over you

To guide you each step of the way

To guard you and keep you safe from all harm

Loo-li, loo-li, lai-lay

You finish the lullaby as tears form in the corner of your eyes. The words of the song unlocked the sweet memories of your mother from so long ago. She was a strong and loving woman, and even though you don’t remember her face, you could feel her embrace you through the force as the lyrics of her soothing lullaby escaped your lips. Such a soft and simple song, but so full of love, care, and comfort.

You look around lovingly at the clones sleeping softly in your bed and smile. Your heart is full. They’re all sleeping peacefully, probably for the first time in a long while. But your happy thoughts are pierced with poison as you remember why they exist. The bloody war. The war that no one asked for. The war they lay their lives down for. Not all of them may come back, but for now, yes, for now they are safe here with you.

You look up as you sense the final presence you knew would show up eventually. “Captain,” you whisper, trying not to wake the clones. Rex came into the bedroom while you were singing the lullaby and leaned against the wall while he waited for you to finish.

“I was wondering where my men went,” Rex chuckles while looking at his sleeping soldiers spread out across your bed.

“They needed a little mothering tonight,” you say as you leave a gentle kiss on Echo’s head.

Rex smiles. “I can see that.”

“Will you join them?” you ask. “There’s room for one more.”

Without much convincing, Rex pushes himself off the wall and crawls onto the foot of the bed. He lays sideways at the edge, positioning himself to guard over his men. Rex is a great leader and a great Captain. He cares deeply for each of his men and puts their safety above his own. It’s just like him to take the most vulnerable and uncomfortable position so his men can relax and feel covered under his dutiful watch. You smile fondly at their brotherly bond.

You let out a small sigh and lean over to the left to leave a small kiss on Tup’s head. You would kiss them all goodnight, but the rest are too far out of your reach. “Codladh sámh, my little ones,” You whisper while leaning your head back against the pillow to finally let yourself fall asleep. “Dream of a life far away from this one.”

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littlespacereader · 2 months

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It’s my One Year Anniversary on Tumblr!

Thank you everyone for your love and support through this first year! Your love of my fics or my random post mean the world to me!!

My regression and everything about this side of my life is hidden by everyone I know. So to have this community to rant to, to write fics for or to just be silly with, it means everything to me! Thank you for being so welcoming and so kind to me!🥹💞

In honor of this anniversary I decided to write a fic based on whatever I’m obsessed with at the moment. And what’s been my hyper fixation show at the moment is Star Wars the Clone Wars! So please enjoy this fic with Captain Rex and the 501st plus a Jedi Little Reader and their antics of trying to stay up late! Enjoy!!!

Dad Says We Can Stay Up Late!💤🌙

Caregivers: Rex, Kix, Echo, & Tups with a Fem Jedi Little!Reader and Fives, Hardcase, Jesse and Dogman Little Siblings (SFW!)

Tags- Pillow fights, arguing (mild), snacks, sippy cups, bottles, pacifiers, tickling, stuffies, game of tag, snuggles and cuddling, group sleepover

The mission was over and the 501st plus General Y/N were on their way back to Kamino. It was a great victory over the separatists. Another win for the squad. So that mean a victory party!

But the problem? It was probably going to be past most of their bedtimes.

The clones of the Republic are no strangers to regression. Clones don’t get a childhood, they’re just trained to fight. So it’s no wonder some seek out regression and some seek to be caring figures to those little ones.

The 501st has their fair share of the mix. Captain Rex, of course, is the group’s main Caregiver. Both in and out of all of their regression, Rex is always seen as a father figure to all of them. But when they regress, he takes the role very seriously.

Then you have Kix the medic and clone trooper Tups as the second and third Caregivers to the 501st. Finally the last Caregiver is Echo whose quiet and gentle touch gives him the nickname mom of the group.

So four Caregivers of the 501st…but who are the Littles then?

The Caregivers have their hands full with the 501st Littles. Fives is the most energetic Little of the bunch, then there’s Hardcase who’s not far behind Fives chaotic energy. They’re the big kids of the group.

Then there’s Dogman and Jesse, who have a slightly younger mindset but not too far behind their brothers. They’re more kids rather than big kids.

Then there’s the 501st Jedi general Y/N. Ripped away from her family at a young age, Y/N hasn’t really known what it’s like to have a normal childhood or a family. But she would find that with the clone squadron.

She joined them in their routine of coming back to Kamino and regressing. Only thing is…she’s the youngest of the bunch with a little kid headspace.

No one minded though, infact the clones loved having a smaller Little one to take care of! The Littles loved their little sister and the Caregivers loved having someone so young to take care of.

So that’s how the 501st has their own Little Family. But what was this about a victory party?

Oh yes! Rex had promised that if they won this particular battle they would be rewarded with a victory party. The problem? It’s already late and their bedtimes are coming up fast.

“We can’t have a victory party,” Hardcase whined, “We’ll only have an hour to celebrate before we have to go to bed.” He crossed his arms, clearly starting to regress on the ship back.

He wasn’t the only one. Most of the Littles were almost if not regressed already. Happy to be able to do so after the mission.

“Yeah you’re right Hardcase, you make a good point there.” Rex smiles, “Then I guess everyone will be staying up past their bedtime tonight.”

That got every Little on the ship excited. Immediately all their heads lifted up to look at Rex.

“Really?? We can stay up late and do whatever we want?!” Jesse asked, clearly super excited.

“He said you can stay up late, not that you can do whatever you want Jesse.” Kix corrected, smiling all the same as he shook his head.

“We can watch holograms all night!” Y/N smile, clearly as excited as everyone else.

“It’s going to be the coolest party ever!! We’re never going to sleep tonight!” Fives yelled.

“Yeah!!”

“Yeah never sleeping!”

“Staying up forever!”

The rest of the way back to Kamino, the Little gathered and talked about all the things they planned on doing the whole night.

Meanwhile the Caregivers talked as well. “Rex, are you sure this is a good idea?” Echo asked with a glance towards the group of excited Littles.

“Of course it is Echo. No harm in this at all.”

“Do you seriously think that they’re going to stay up all night?” Tups asks.

Kix laughs, “Are you kidding? We just came back from a long mission and now we’re going to have a party? They’ll be lucky if they stay up before their bedtime.”

~~~

The moment the ship lands, the Littles are practically bouncing off the walls with excitement. “Endless night!!” Fives says, being the first to run off the ship.

“Endless night!!” Hardcase yells after him.

The rest of the squad follows behind. Y/N holding Kix’s hand as they walk through the hallways of Kamino. It was obvious the youngest was going to be the first to fall asleep.

“Sweetheart, you don’t have to stay up with the boys. If you feel tired you can get one of us and we’ll take you to bed.” Kix tried to say but Y/N shook her head.

“Don’t wanna miss anything.” She whined.

“I know baby, I know. I’m just saying if you start to feel tired and if you want to go to sleep, you can always find me and I’ll take you somewhere a bit more quiet.” Kix explained.

Y/N nodded and tried to hold back a yawn. “Kay Kits.” She said, leaning close against his arm.

Kix knew like the rest of the Caregivers that Y/N always tried to keep up with her older Little siblings. But late hours and Y/N didn’t mix together. He knew she would be the first to sleep.

The rest? Wouldn’t be far behind.

~~~

Fives turns around and looks to the group of Caregivers and Littles who are ‘too slow’. His eyes quickly landed upon me.

“Come on slow pokes! We can’t waste any time!” Fives walks over to me and picks me up, giving me a piggy back ride as he runs down the hallway. I giggle the whole way as the Caregivers watch and smile.

Fives carries me into the 501st barracks where the rest of the Littles are running about. Jesse smiled seeing us enter, “Great you’re finally here Y/N. Grab all the pillows and blankets and put them by the holoscreen.”

I nod my head running around to all the beds, grabbing the blankets, pillows and everyone’s stuffies. We did this often, making one big bed infront of the hologram so we could all cuddle to sleep together. I took all our belongings to the center of the room, and started creating one big bed full of cushions, pillows and blankets for all of us.

I hold my loth cat stuffie close as I watch the rest of the Littles of the 501st running around. A yawn escaped me as the weight of the day starts to weight me down. But I couldn’t fall asleep yet! Stay up forever!! But…I could start to see it was going to be a difficult task.

The Caregivers finally enter the barracks and watch the chaos unfolding. Fives and Jesse are wrestling around, Dogman and Hardcase are getting everyone’s cup and sippy cups.

But the Caregivers noticed something, everyone was walking around in their dirty and worn armor from the mission. They all needed to be changed into their pjs. But that was going to be their first and one of their biggest challenges of the night.

There was an unspoken game the Caregiver and the Littles of the 501st played after every mission. The Littles, who outnumbered the Caregivers 5 to 4, would try to outrun their Caregivers and see who would be the last Little to be caught and change into their pjs from their armor.

Fives was the resigning winner from their last mission. But today could be a new winner.

“Fives! Jesse!” I call over, pointing to the group of Caregivers strategizing. All at once the Littles realized what was about to happen.

“Ready for our next mission?” Rex smirked to the other three Caregivers. Echo sighed while Kix and Tups chuckled.

“I’ve got Jesse,” Kix called.

“I’ve got Dogman,” Tup called next.

Rex and Echo looked to each other, silently agreeing on who they were going after.

Fives, Jesse, Hardcase, Dogman and I joined each other and stared back at the Caregivers.

There was a standoff between us. Neither of the two groups moved. The Caregivers smiled back at Littles with a mischievous smile.

The silent standoff was broken with a simple cry, “RUNNN!!!!” from Fives.

Suddenly all hell broke loose in the 501st barracks as the Littles took off while the Caregivers chase them down.

I ran as fast as I could, ducking under beds and weaving in and out of the bunks. I ducked under one of the bunks to hide. I popped my head out to see if anyone had been caught yet.

Dogman was wrapped in Tup’s warm arms, giggling as the Caregiver tickled his sides. So there’s one down.

Jesse ran around the beds but his foot caught the corner of one, causing him to fall. Immediately he starts to cry, holding his ‘injured’ leg.

Kix, who was chasing him to begin with, ran over to his aid, bringing the Little close to check his leg. “Hurts!” He cried.

“Doesn’t look like anything major. Just a little bruise.” Kix said after looking over his leg. With a little kiss to it, Kix declared it all better.

Jesse lifted his arms up and Kix right away picked him up, “It’s okay Jesse, I’ve got you. You’re okay sweet one.” He says softly, as Jesse hide his face against his neck.

Because Kix is a medic it meant he was extra gentle and comforting whenever one of us got hurt or injured. Sometimes an injury or cut that’s normally not that big of a deal to us out of our regression, is a big deal when we’re regressed. Kix knew and always made sure we got extra love and comfort for it.

That’s Jesse and Dogman out of the game. That left Fives, Hardcase and myself.

I saw Echo, he was trying to wrangle Fives….but where is Rex?

Suddenly my ankle is grabbed and I get pulled out from under the bed. “Thought you could hide from me you little tooka.” Rex smiled, tickling me on the ground. I kicked and squirmed, laughing to the point of not being able to breathe.

He picks me up off the floor and into his arms. I giggle as he bounced me. “How’d you find me?”

“Your friend here was sticking out just a bit.” He gestured to my loth cat stuffie. In reality he watched as I hid under the bed, but he wasn’t going to ruin the fun.

“Come on, let’s get you changed into something more comfy.” Rex said as he started to walk towards my bunk to change me.

“Wait! Wanna see who last to get picked.” I explain.

Rex smirks, “Alright, alright, let’s see.”

At the moment all that was left was Echo, trying to wrangle Fives and Hardcase all by himself. Fives and Hardcase started working together, staying parallel to Echo. They would be on one side of the bed while Echo would be on the other.

“You can’t catch us!” Hardcase teased as they ran around the bed three, no four times in a row.

Finally Echo had enough and decided to put his arc trooper training to some good use. He grabbed a hold off the side of the bed and swung over in one fast movement.

The moment caught Fives and Hardcase off guard and soon Echo had a hand on both their shoulders, stopping them from running off. “Alright, enough is enough. Let’s get you both changed.” Echo sighed in relief.

“Wait! Who did you touch first?” Fives quickly asked.

“Yeah who?” Hardcase added.

“I think it was a tie boys.”

“A tie?!” The two littles looked at each other.

“Yeah. I grabbed you both at once. Guess you both win.” Echo shrugged.

There was a moment of internal debate before the two accepted their shared win.

“Yeah!! We won!!” Hardcase smiled.

“We’re the fastest!!” Fives added.

Rex walked towards my bunk with me in his arms. “See? Leave it to Echo to get both of them at once.” He chuckled.

“Yeah,” I say following it with a yawn.

As Rex walks over to my bunk to grab my pajamas, I can’t help ur rest my head against him, closing my eyes and wrapping my arms around his neck.

I hear him chuckle, “Someone’s tired after the mission.”

He places me on the bed and starts helping me changes from my usual Jedi robes to some softer more comfortable pajamas. “You did a good job today.”

“I did?”

“Yeah you did.” Rex smiles, “I was very proud of you on the battle field today.”

The praise warms me, making so so happy and honored that I did good and that Rex was proud of me. I hug him tightly, so happy to have him as one of my Caregivers.

After he grabs a hairbrush and brushes my hair, all while I try not to fall asleep to the comforting feeling.

“You know,” Rex stated to say, “If you want to go to sleep, you can Y/N. You don’t have to stay up with the boys. And if you’re worried about being by yourself I’m sure one of us won’t mind staying with you.” He suggests.

But I shake my head and rub my tired eyes, “Noooowwwaa! Wanna stay up with you.” I put my arms out to be held again.

“Alright my little tooka, alright. But if you feel tired you promise to tell one of us okay?” He lifts me back into his arms.

“Promise Dadee.” I say softly, holding onto his as he carries me back to the group.

Every Little is changed into pjs now, as they settle in for their victory party. Kix and Tups managed to get changed themselves in the mayhem and wear pajamas bottoms and loose shirts. They watch the Littles as Echo and Rex go to change out of their armor.

Tups handles the food and snacks while Kix handles drinks, all while the Littles roam around them.

Jesse stays close to Kix after getting hurt. He becomes his little helper, gathering everyone’s respective cups and getting drink orders from the Littles.

“Y/N!” Jesse runs over, “Water, blue milk or juice tonight?”

“Blue milk please.” I reply, watching as Jesse nods and runs back over to Kix to tell him.

“Y/N wants blue milk, Dad.”

“Thank you for asking her Jesse. You’re just a great helper.” Kix smiled and Jesse beams under the praise.

The rest of the Littles hang around Tups and for good reason. He starts making everyone a little bowl of snacks.

“Where’s the desserts?! How is this a party without desserts?!” Fives whines.

“Because it’s too late to have dessert.” Tups replies.

He’s about to say something else when Fives interrupts him, “But we need desserts so we can stay up all night! This is unfair!”

“Fives drop it,” Rex says sternly as he returns with Echo.

Rex wears a sweatshirt and pajama pants, similar to Kix and Tups, while Echo wears a hoodie and sweatpants because he’s always chilly.

Fives whines but drops it, knowing Rex was not going to put up with it. “Fine….but can we have extra snacks because we won?” He bargains.

Tups chuckles, “Sure Fives. You can have extra.” That seems to satisfy the young clone.

The Caregivers started to get everything together for the night, and while they did the Littles started to run around and play.

Fives grabbed his pillow and shouts “PILLOW FIGHT!!” With that the war had been declared. All of us grab our pillows and start to run towards one another, and into the battle.

The problem is…someone of us have an advantage in this pillow fight…

Fives and Hardcase are brutal in their fight. Being the oldest they us left and right with a brutal force. Jesse got hit twice by the two of them and called it for himself.

“You guys play too hard.” He whined, going back over to Kix and hiding his face against his chest.

Kid walked over and took in the sight of the pillow fight. With an arm wrapped around an upset Jesse, he called out to the other Littles, “Hey! Let’s take it down and start to get settled for the night.”

But neither of them listened.

Their final battle was against Dogman and I. It was two against two. Fives and Hardcase were brutal, each hitting us with percussion. Fives took on Dogman while Hardcase went to battle with me.

Fives hit Dogman square in the stomach, sending him to the ground. He held his stomach as tears brimmed his eyes.

“Papa!” Dogman cried out. “PAPA!”

Fives starts to panic. “Nononono! You’re fine Dogman really! Ssssssshhhhhh!! Don’t tell, don’t tell!”

As that was going on, Hardcase and I were battling it out together. My hit are sloppy, the tiredness of the day getting to me. But Hardcase plays dirty, hitting my legs and sending me to the ground.

As he walked over to hit me with his final pillow blow I closed my eyes and focused. I pull his pillow away using the force. With one move of my hand his pillows flew across the room.

“Hey!” He yelled, “No fair! You’re not allowed to use the force!! That’s cheating!”

“You hit my legs! That’s cheating!”

“What’s going on in here?” Rex called out.

We all turned to see Rex, Tups and Echo all standing together looking stern. Our hearts dropped for a moment.

Dogman runs over to Tups, hugging him tightly as tears fell from his eyes. “We were havin a pillow fight but Fives and Hardcase play too rough!”

“Fives… Hardcase…” Rex said, looking at them suspiciously. It isn’t the first time the two had played rough with the younger Littles. Though they’ve been told in the past, they sometimes forget they’re the oldest and need to be more gentle with their siblings.

“I didn’t mean to hurt him!” Fives tries to say.

“Yeah! And-And Y/N used the force to throw my pillow off to the side!” Right away Hardcase tries to shift the blame onto me.

The attention then turns to me. “He doesn’t stop!” I argue back.

Then the three of us starts talking at once, all arguing to get ourselves out of trouble. Echo and his new found headache interrupt the conversation.

“Alright! Alright! I’ve heard enough. Fives, Hardcase, apologies to your siblings for playing too rough.”

“But we-.”

“Unless you want to have a good time out to think about your apology, I think now would be a good idea to just say one and move on.”

Fives and Hardcase sigh but eventually say an apology to Dogman, Jesse and myself.

“Good. Thank you boys.” Echo turns to me, “Now Y/N, you know you’re not allowed to use to force when you’re back home right?”

I look down, holding my stuffie tighter. “Right…”

“So like your brothers you’re just getting a warning this time. But no using the force anymore or next time it’s a time out, okay?” Echo walks over and puts an arm around me.

“Okay mama.” I lean against him, looking up and nodding my head. “Mama, I want sit with you and Dadee tonight!” I smile looking up to him..

“You do?” Echo smiles, “I’d love nothing more.”

Echo’s always had the title of mom of the 501st. He never minded it or thought much on it. But when the Littles started regressing more and more, Mom or Mama starts to become Echo’s new nickname.

While some men might not like the feminine nickname, he loves the name. Mostly because he knew it meant they saw him as more of a gentle maternal figure. They all would come to him when they need someone with a soft gentle touch.

Everyone starts to gather by the holo. Kix passes out everyone drinks, cups with straws for FIves and Hardcase, sippy cups for Jesse and Dogman, and a bottle for me. And Tups passes out the snacks to everyone.

Then we start to settle in for the night.

The holo starts to play a popular kids show. It glows infront of all of us, calming the usually energetic clones and putting the rest of us in a sleep mode.

Everyone seems to wrap around or sit next to one Caregiver or the other. Echo sits on one side of me and Rex on the other. I lean against Echo, his arm wrapped around me as I rest my head against his shoulder.

Jesse stays close to Kix, laying similarly to me against him. Hardcase sit on the other side of Kix, Fives sits between Rex and Tups pointing out thing about the show to each of the Caregivers, and Dogman leans against Tups other side watching the show intensely.

~~~

The holo plays on the screen while all the Littles settle in for the night, drinking and snacking away. But as it plays on and the drinks and snack start to disappear, the plan to ‘stay up all night’ start to become harder and harder for the 501st Littles.

For Y/N and Jesse, they’ve lost the battle.

Y/N is out 10 minutes into the show, laying peacefully against Echo sound asleep. Her bottle still in her mouth, with one hand wrapped around Echo and the other holding onto their stuffie.

Jesse held a strong battle during the holo. But eventually Kix could feel Jesse snuggling against him. He wraps an arm around him, pulling him close and rubbing his back softly. Eventually Jesse’s asleep, thumb in his mouth and head on Kix’s chest.

Dogman nods off every so often before jumping back awake. Then the cycle repeats itself.

Eventually Tups takes it upon himself to pull Dogman close, having him fall asleep cuddled close too. The Little doesn’t object, closing his eyes and falling asleep soon after.

Then it’s just the oldest two.

Hardcase is in a similar state as Dogman. His eyes droop close and his head falls forwards before he jerks awake.

Kix leans over and takes his hand, rubbing his knuckles. “Hardcase, why don’t you just go to sleep? See? Jesse’s already asleep.”

Hardcase tried to fight it. He rubs his eye and yawns. “But I wanna stay up all night.” He whines.

Kix smiles at the stubborn Little and comes up with a cleaver plan. “Oh, alright. I guess I’ll only have Jesse to cuddle up with tonight.” He sighs. “Though I really wanted to have you to cuddle up next to too. But I understand, you need to stay up all night.”

He knew it wasn’t the nicest plan in the book, but being a medic he knew it wasn’t healthy the way Hardcase is fighting his sleep.

Hardcase looked at Kix worried. He thought about it for a moment before he moved closer to him, “I can still cuddle next to you and stay up”

“You can? Oh that’s great! Come here kiddo.” Kix wrapped an arm around Hardcase and pulled him close. Hardcase leaned against Kix’s side, resting his head in his lap.

As the holo started to near its end, Kix rubbed Hardcase’s back and arms. Between his already sleepy feeling and the soft and gentle touches here and there, Hardcase is out like a light.

The last one standing is Fives…stubbornly so.

The holo ends, Rex stretches and looks to the remaining Little. “Alright Fives, let’s head to bed.”

“What?! But you said we could stay up as late as we wanted too!” Fives stands up and argues. The Caregivers shush him, careful not to wake the sleeping Littles.

“I know I did Fives but it’s getting late and everyone is very tired.”

“But I’m not tired!” Fives tries to say without yawning. Rex and the other Caregivers share a knowing look.

“How about this Fives? Go pick out a good book on your datapad and I’ll read it to you before we go to sleep. Sound good?” Rex bargain.

“What if I’m not sleepy after it?”

“Then you’re allowed to stay up.”

“Really?!”

“Yup. Now go chose a good one.” Rex ruffles Fives hair before he gets up and go to grab his datapad.

With another shake of his head, the other Caregivers chuckle at Fives never ending energy. They settle in for the night. Getting comfortable on their makeshift bed by the holo.

Tups is already asleep next to Dogman. Both of them wrapped in a blanket with Tups snoring and holding protectively to the Little.

Kix is not far behind him. He adjust himself so that he’s able to lay down with the two Littles comfortably.

Echo cards a hand through Y/N’s hair. He pulls her bottle away and grabs a spare pacifier to replace it with. Immediately Y/N latched onto it, snuggling impossible closer to Echo.

Echo looks over to Rex. “You sure you’ll be able to get him down for bed?

“Trust me, I’ve got Fives. You head off to bed with Y/N. It’s been a long day.” Rex nods.

Echo nods back, stretching before pulling Y/N close and laying down himself. “Let me know if you need anything.” He pulls a blanket around him and Y/N before he starts to fall asleep himself.

Fives runs back over and sits next to Rex. “Okay so I have 5 books I want you to read!”

“5 books? Well then we’re going to need to get comfortable first aren’t we?” Rex gestures for Fives to come close.

Rex lays down, pulling Fives to lay next to him. Fives lays his head in Rex lap, feeling his hand start to card through his hair. It’s heavenly. Finally a blanket is pulled around the two of them.

“There we go.” Rex smiles, “Now let’s see what stories we have here.”

Rex begins to read the first story to Fives, all while he continues to card his hand through his hair. He knows like the others that Fives biggest weakness is having his hair played with. It’s always a go-to to calm him down or in this case put him to sleep.

And it works perfectly. As the story goes on Fives can no longer fight the sleepiness any longer. He eventually gives in and falls asleep against Rex.

For good measure, and maybe because he’s curious, Rex finishes the story before he checks on Fives. Looking over he sees the Little is in a deep sleep thankfully, arms wrapped around Rex. He looks over to the other Littles and Caregivers and finds that everyone is peaceful asleep.

He decided to join them, feeling exhausted himself. He pulls Fives close and wraps their blanket around them more snuggly. With a little kiss to the top of his head he whispers “Good night kiddo.” Then Rex starts to sleep himself.

The barracks of the 501st remain peaceful throughout the night. Caregivers holding onto their Littles ones and their Littles reciprocating. All of them happy to have one another.

But soon they’ll find out something interesting…they’re not the only clone force that had this ritual. Which means they’re in store for some playdates in the future or possibly some new babysitters.👀

18 notes · View notes

mouwrites · 7 months

Note

my request for the event is :

RAAAAAAH HOW ABOUT PLATONIC JAY WALKER AND BEST FRIEND BY REX ORANGE COUNTY

YEAHH THIS!!! I hope it came out okay love ^^

Word count: 1.1k

Ninjago - Best Friend (Jay) (Platonic) (400 follower event)

The crowd’s cheers were almost deafening, even way up all the stairs of Ninjago City Hall. Hundreds—thousands, even—of people jumped and hooted below, screaming the names of their favorite ninjas. Jay heard his own name several times, and while at first he tried to smile and show his gratitude, today he just didn’t have the energy to keep it up.

After years of receiving such affection, sometimes it just didn’t hit as hard as it used to. It was rare that Jay genuinely found himself exhausted at all the attention; he was admittedly a bit of an attention sponge, sucking up whatever he could get. Today was just one of those scarce days that he heard his name being screamed with adoration and all he could do was smile wanly.

The Mayor was going on about their latest feat, and Jay could hardly follow his drolling speech. He picked at the seams of his gloves, looking sadly at his feet. His brows furrowed every time the crowd burst into applause or cheers, forcing the Mayor to pause.

Despite this cascade of love pouring from the hearts and mouths of all of Ninjago, Jay felt unbearably alone.

He looked at his companions at his side, trying to remind himself that he wasn’t alone, but it was useless.

He shifted in his seat to dig into his pocket, discreetly pulling out his phone to check for messages.

For the first time that day, his face really lit up when he saw a text from you:

Meet me at the arcade when ur done w ur ceremony thingy

He somehow managed to sit through the rest of the ceremony (perhaps it was the incessant fidgeting that helped), and the minute it was done he practically sprinted off to the arcade.

He kept getting stopped by fans, still being in his Gi, but he pushed past them, insisting that there was an urgent matter to attend to. He felt a little guilty when they naively stepped aside, wishing him luck on his “mission,” but the prospect of seeing you repeatedly overshadowed those feelings.

He burst into the arcade breathlessly, scanning the area for you. Pretty much all of Ninjago had been at the ceremony, so the place was quite empty. Except for you, of course—peacefully gaming away at a machine in the far corner.

You glanced over your shoulder as he approached, offering a quick smile as a greeting. “You’re here! Come on, this one’s two-player.”

He loved that about you; the way you never bugged him about ninja business. Not that you didn’t care, of course. You’d always listen attentively if he wanted to rant. But you just never prodded him when he obviously wanted to talk about something else.

“That ceremony sucked,” Jay huffed candidly after a while, finally feeling ready to talk.

“I bet. I never go to those things. They’re too loud.”

“Yeah… even from all the way up those steps, it’s like I’ve got a hundred people screaming in my ear!”

“Like this?” You smirked, quickly placing yourself right next to Jay’s ear and shouting a quick “AAH!” before retreating to your original position.

“Hey—ow…” Jay sighed, his “hey” coming just a second too late. “Yeah, like that. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” you snickered.

Jay shook his head, not able to help the smile that curled his lips. He couldn’t stay mad at you. He could never stay mad at you.

Even when you sucked at the game you were playing: “Geez, can you please stop dying?”

“You think I’m doing it on purpose?”

“Well, are you?”

“Maybe I will, now that you mention it.” You promptly walked your character straight into a pool of lava, triggering the “GAME OVER” screen.

Jay threw his hands up, giving a groan of despair.

“That game was lame anyway,” you huffed, sticking your tongue out at the machine.

Jay’s despair melted away at the sight of your face. Your cute mannerisms never failed to catch him off guard and bring to him a special sense of affection. He ruffled your hair, as he often did when he felt overwhelmed by said affection.

“Stop doing that,” you pouted, swatting his hand away.

“Just payback for shouting in my ear,” Jay teased, turning away to browse the other arcade machines.

“Aren’t you tired after the ceremony? We could head back to my place, get a bite to eat on the way.”

“Nah,” Jay shook his head, holding his hand out for a quarter from you. “I need something to get my mind off things. Besides, I’m having fun with you.”

You grinned, dropping a quarter into Jay’s palm and sidling up next to him at the machine he put it into.

There was a curtain of blackness outside by the time you’d finished gaming. You’d both collected a fair sum of tickets, and decided to surprise each other with a gift from the prize counter. You let Jay finish up one last game while you went to pick his gift, and waited outside while he picked yours.

You were watching a traffic light blink yellow, almost hypnotized, when Jay came out.

“Close your eyes,” you heard him say, lingering in the threshold of the arcade.

“You close yours,” you retorted, turning to face him with lidded eyes.

“Okay. One, two… three!”

At the same time you opened your eyes. In your palm was a Starfarer keychain, and in his was a cute teddy bear with fluffy (f/c) fur.

“Oh my gosh,” you both said at the same time.

You swapped gifts quickly, Jay grinning hugely at the keychain, you hugging the bear to your chest.

“It’s so soft!”

“It’s so cool!”

You beamed at each other, giggling at the way you unintentionally mirrored one another.

You kept the bear pressed against you while you scanned the street, looking for a restaurant that was open. You spotted a little noodle bar about half a block away, and pointed to it with your free hand.

“Hungry?”

“Always.”

“Good. You’re paying.” You smirked, taking off down the street.

“You devil.”

“It’s only fair! Who’s the one who gave you all the quarters?”

“Okay, okay, you got me there. You’re lucky you’re charming… in a sad-wet-baby way, I mean.”

“Aww, you’re sweet. In a stray-puppy-in-a-box way.”

Jay put on a mocking offensive face, his jaw dropping dramatically. You just laughed, picking up your pace as if trying to escape this “enraged” man.

Jay sighed as he watched you go, smiling to himself. He brushed his thumb over the keychain in his pocket.

I’m so lucky they’re my best friend.

Thank you so much for partaking in our event my friend!! And thanks for reading, take care doves <33

(divider by saradika)

#ninjago #lego ninjago #ninjago fanfiction #jay walker #jay walker x reader #jay x reader

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dystopicjumpsuit · 1 year

Text

Stars Beyond Number - Chapter 6

This Last of Meeting Places

Rating: M - please head the warnings; minors DNI

Pairings: Echo x Riyo Chuchi; Gregor x OFC Cerra Kilian

Wordcount: 4.1k (I know, but trust me)

Warnings: use of alcohol as a coping mechanism; panic attack (described); blood and injury (including self-inflicted); threats of violence; medical emergency; heavy angst

Suggested Listening:

Summary: Cerra and Gregor go undercover at 79's.

A/N: This story shares continuity with Martyrs and Kings and "Do It Again," but all three fics can be read as stand-alones.

In this last of meeting places we grope together and avoid speech.

—T. S. Eliot, “The Hollow Men”

The roar of the crowd washed over Cerra as she entered 79’s. Deep, thumping music pounded in her ears, and neon lights flashed through a dizzying haze of smoke. The club was packed and dark, but she spotted Gregor in seconds, drawn to him like durasteel to a magnet. The tension eased out of her shoulders slightly; he had her back, and he would never let anything happen to her. He leaned casually against the bar, chatting with another clone, and he only acknowledged her with the barest flicker of a glance.

She threaded through the crowd, making her way slowly to the bar. Her head hurt. 79’s was one of the few places where clones were free to cut loose and have a good time, so it had naturally become Fives’s main destination during shore leaves. Cerra had loved the frenetic energy and gritty atmosphere, the electric buzz of sex and booze and spice and blasting music and bodies coming together on the dancefloor. Now it was nearly impossible for her to view the club as anything other than a punishment.

Rex’s voice hissed in her ear. “Smile, Cerra. You’re supposed to look like you’re having a good time, not like you’re about to burn the place to the ground.”

She schooled her features into a pleasantly vacuous expression. Gregor angled toward her for Rex’s benefit, and his eyes lit with amusement at her sudden shift. She suppressed the urge to flip him the bird, and instead focused on the conversations swirling around her. Many of the clones were discussing Admiral Rampart’s sudden and shocking fall from grace and subsequent arrest. A few complained about forced retirements. In general, the mood was more somber than she would have expected from a nightclub, but plenty of clones were eager to forget their troubles, and the dancefloor thronged with the gyrating bodies of drunken troopers and civilians grinding on each other.

She skirted around the perimeter and finally made it to the bar, realizing only as she arrived that there was a good chance that the bartenders would recognize her, if the staff hadn’t turned over in the past couple years. Her shoulders tensed as she searched covertly for familiar faces behind the bar, but for once, it seemed that luck was on her side: she didn’t recognize any of them, and none of them showed any sign that they knew her, either.

Gregor shifted to make space for her at the bar, and she slid into position behind him, brushing against him lightly for comfort. Beneath the rough wool of his uniform, he was warm and reassuringly solid, and he slipped a hand covertly behind him to give her a quick, encouraging pat. She ordered a double of Dodbri whiskey, tossing it back as soon as the bartender pushed it across the bartop to her. It was cheap and strong, and it burned like hell going down.

“Slow down, Cerra,” Rex said. She could hear the frown in his voice.

A clone squeezed in next to her, jostling obnoxiously into her personal space. Cerra’s heart lurched when she saw his face so close to her own.

It’s not him, she told herself sternly, ignoring the way her stomach flip-flopped inside her.

“Hey, gorgeous,” he grinned. “Can I buy you a photon fizzle?”

Cerra nearly grimaced at the idea of the sugary abomination of a cocktail. It was actually the perfect drink to sell her persona if she wanted to convince everyone in the club that she was just another party animal looking for a good time.

Showtime, she thought, batting her eyelashes at him in what she hoped was an alluring manner. It had been years since she’d flirted with anyone, but once upon a time, she’d been pretty good at it.

“That’s the best offer I’ve had all night,” she said in a husky tone. “What’s your name, trooper?”

She felt Gregor stiffen behind her. The clone’s eyes darkened. Shit, maybe she was laying it on a little too thick.

“I’m Stew,” the clone said. “Want to get out of here?”

“Amateur,” Rex jeered through the comm.

Cerra traced a finger up Stew’s chest. “Pump the brakes, soldier. I haven’t even gotten a drink yet.”

“Ease up on the bedroom voice,” Rex said. “You won’t be able to do much surveillance if you’re hooking up inside a supply closet.”

Cerra gritted her teeth. Her standards were significantly higher than a supply closet, thank you very much. And she wasn’t likely to hook up with anyone in this bar, no matter how much her mind chanted Fives, Fives, Fives when she saw their faces. Another clone stumbled closer, clapping Stew on the shoulder.

“Don’t mind Stew, ma’am. All that time shooting heavy artillery has scrambled his brains. I’m Trapper, and my brain is fully intact.”

Cerra faked a sultry laugh as Stew shoved Trapper away. “So, you’re telling me Stew has a big gun?”

Behind her, Gregor choked on his drink. Trapper looked comically disappointed, and Stew preened.

“Yes, ma’am,” Stew said. “Biggest gun in the fleet. And I always hit my target.”

The bartender slid two photon fizzles across to them. Cerra braced herself for the saccharine onslaught.

“Here’s to heavy artillery,” she said, clinking her glass against Stew’s, “and a man who knows how to handle his weapon.”

Gregor snorted. Cerra took a sip and tried not to gag on the chewy, slimy orbs in the cocktail. The sweetness made her jaw cramp. Stew chugged his drink with a delighted smile.

“Want to dance?” he asked hopefully.

“Try to get him to take you back to his booth,” Rex said. “We need to get him talking about something other than the size of his blaster.”

“I think I’d rather sit and talk with you boys,” she said, casting a simmering look at Trapper, who rallied immediately. “Do you have a table?”

Trapper nodded enthusiastically and looped an arm over Cerra’s shoulders. “Right this way, beautiful. I didn’t catch your name earlier.”

“That’s because Stew never asked before he propositioned me,” Cerra said with a touch of acerbity.

Trapper slapped Stew on the back of his head. “That’s no way to treat a lady, dickhead.”

“Ow!” Stew said, rubbing his head as he trailed behind them. “Watch your kriffing language, you degenerate.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Cerra caught a flash of the iconic crimson and white armor of the Coruscant guard. Her heart began to race, and her palms felt damp and hot. It’s not Fox. Fox is dead. It’s someone else. Fox is gone. He can’t hurt you. He can’t hurt anyone ever again. She worked to control her breathing, wishing that her mouth didn’t suddenly feel so dry. Stew and Trapper were still squabbling, and she made herself focus on their conversation.

“Quit complaining and order that round of shots you owe us,” Trapper said, steering Cerra toward a corner booth with a good view of the dancefloor. Two troopers were already seated inside, and they both straightened up and watched with interest as Cerra approached with their brother.

“Stak, Razor, I’d like you to meet my friend, er—” Trapper stopped, realizing that he still didn’t know Cerra’s name.

“Kallie,” she lied, forcing a smile to cover her shakiness.

“Nice to meet you, Kallie,” Razor said. “Is this idiot bothering you?”

“Not at all,” Cerra said as she slid into the booth, positioning herself so she had a clear line of sight on Gregor. The Corrie must have left the club, because there was no sign of red armor in the crowd any longer.

“What’s a pretty thing like you doing in a dump like this?” Stak asked.

“Has that line ever worked?” Razor asked his brother.

“No, but I’m an optimist,” Stak grinned.

Something about their names nagged at her memory. Had she met them before? If so, she hoped that her appearance had changed enough since she’d abruptly deserted the GAR that they wouldn’t recognize her. All four troopers were wearing their gray uniforms, so she couldn’t even identify their units from their armor paint.

Not the 501st, she thought. Rex raised his boys better.

Trapper flopped down into the booth next to her, effectively pinning her between himself and Stak. Across the club, Gregor raised an eyebrow inquisitively. She could practically hear him ask, You good?

She sent him a covert thumbs-up under the guise of sipping her horrible cocktail. The three clones sharing the booth with her looked at her expectantly.

“At least it’s subtler than Stew,” she said with a hollow laugh. “He went straight for the kill.”

Trapper, Stak, and Razor all heckled Stew as he approached the table bearing a tray of shots. The beleaguered trooper gave her a wounded look.

“I hear he has a huge blaster, though,” she added, taking pity on the gunner.

“It’s really more of a cannon, if I do say so myself,” Stew said with false modesty as he set the tray on the table and slid into the booth next to Razor. He passed out the shots, leaving one extra on the tray.

“Who’s the sixth shot for?” Cerra asked.

“The commander,” Razor said.

“Where is he?” she asked.

“Gone,” Stak said grimly.

Cerra’s stomach dropped. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize.”

Stupid. Should have known. Should have remembered. We always left a shot for Hardcase.

Stew gave her a reassuring smile, and then the clones raised their shots in a toast.

“To Commander Ponds,” Razor said, the others echoing him.

Cerra dropped the glass, which bounced off the table and rolled across the floor. Miraculously, it didn’t break, but it did splatter cheap rotgut all over everyone in the immediate vicinity.

“Shit! Sorry, so clumsy,” Cerra gasped, wiping herself with a napkin to cover her confusion.

Shit, shit, shit.

Across the bar, Gregor tensed, ready to spring into action if she needed him. Stak and Trapper mopped up the spilled booze while Stew retrieved the errant shot glass before somebody could step on it and break it.

“Sorry, boys,” Cerra said again, hating the way her voice trembled.

Rex’s voice hissed in her ear. “Tap the table twice if you need Gregor.”

“That’s all right,” Razor said. “Not the first time one of us couldn’t hold our liquor.”

Cerra shook her head in mock disapproval, making sure Gregor saw the motion. “That was a terrible pun, Razor.”

“It was,” he said with a twinkle. “Maybe you should… ‘pun’-ish me for it.”

Trapper, Stew, and Stak groaned simultaneously. Cerra relaxed a bit. Once she’d gotten over the shock of hearing Ponds’s name, she realized that she had never met Stak and Razor after all; their names had been familiar to her because Ponds had once told her about their heroic actions on Ryloth.

It had been at a family dinner—the dinner when Uncle Shoan had brought Ponds home to introduce him to the family. Cerra’s father had teased Shoan ruthlessly about undermining the chain of command. Shoan had retorted that her father would know all about it, as he’d been a colonel when he’d married Cerra’s mother, an enlisted mechanic. The night had devolved into good-natured bickering, and Ponds had jumped right in as though he’d known them all for years. Cerra had gone back to the Resolute afterwards feeling a warm glow of hope that someday Fives would receive the same welcome from her boisterous family, if she were ever brave enough to take the next step with him.

Cerra dug her nails into the skin of her thigh to bring herself back to the present. Ponds was gone, and Fives was gone, and there was no such thing as happily ever after. The best any of them could do was survive, and try to piece together whatever fragments of their shattered lives they could dig out of the rubble.

The four clones at the table still hadn’t taken their shots, so Cerra lifted her photon fizzle and repeated their interrupted toast: “To Ponds.”

They all knocked back their shots, and Cerra chugged what remained of her drink.

“Cerra. Slow down,” Rex repeated, and maybe he had a point, because the club started to look a little wobbly. The syrupy cocktail must have been stronger than it tasted.

“Atta girl,” Trapper said approvingly, draping his arm across her shoulders.

“Best commander we ever had,” Razor said glumly. “Not like these natties.”

The other three clones made identical faces of disgust.

“Natties?” Cerra asked, feigning ignorance.

“Natural-born officers,” Trapper explained. “Not clones. No offense.”

“None taken,” Cerra said. “What’s wrong with them?”

“Treat us like cannon fodder,” Stak spat. “Most of them have never even seen combat, but they act like they’re better than us. Like we’re worthless.”

“Expendable,” Razor agreed.

“That’s horrible,” Cerra said sincerely. “After everything the clones have sacrificed, it’s unbelievable that the Empire is treating you like this.”

Stew leaned in, hunching his back to the rest of the club. “I’ve heard rumors about clones going AWOL,” he said in a low voice. The other three clones looked around nervously, watching for eavesdroppers. “Even high ranking officers.”

“How high?” Trapper asked darkly.

“At least one marshal commander,” Stew said.

Cerra stifled a gasp. In her earpiece, Rex whispered, “Cody?”

“I don’t believe it,” Stak declared. “If one of the highest-ranking clones in the army had gone AWOL, we’d have heard about it.”

“Would we?” Trapper asked. “Seems like the empire would want to keep that intel quiet if they hope to avoid mass desertions.”

“Why bother?” Razor asked. “They’re already replacing us with those useless TK troopers. What do they care if a few clones leave ahead of schedule?”

“Because they don’t want us to survive,” Stew said grimly. “If we all get wiped out on the battlefield, they won’t have to worry about us causing any problems down the road.”

Stak reeled back. “That’s—that’s—you shouldn’t be talking like that,” he said, shooting an anxious look at Cerra.

“Keep them talking,” Rex ordered.

She dropped a soothing hand onto Stak’s clenched fist, brushing her thumb over his knuckles. “I won’t tell anyone,” she said. “You should know that a lot of people are grateful for your service to the Republic.”

“Don’t you mean the Empire?” Razor asked, eyes narrowed.

Cerra shrugged. “Sure. Slip of the tongue.”

Four identical pairs of eyes peered suspiciously at her. Dank farrik. She was losing them. She took a gamble.

“My—late husband was a clone,” she said.

Stak sucked in a breath that was audible even over the thumping music. All four troopers gaped, visibly shocked. Marriage to a clone was very, very illegal.

“Cerra?” Rex asked uncertainly.

“We always said we were going to run away together,” she continued, ignoring her captain. “Find some nice, remote moon and start a new life. He had names picked out in case we had children.”

Her voice cracked. Damn. That wasn’t supposed to happen. She was only telling them this to get them to trust her. So why did it feel like she’d ripped open her chest and exposed the remnants of her mangled heart?

“Kriff,” Razor cursed. “What happened?”

“He died,” she said, her words coming out in a broken whisper. “Trying to save his brothers. I would never dishonor his memory by betraying any of you.”

Stak turned his hand over to hold Cerra’s. “I’m sorry,” he said. “Don’t cry.”

Cerra looked around the table at the four troopers, whose faces now held no trace of suspicion—only pity. Something warm tickled her face, and she reached up to swipe it away. She stared down at the gleam of moisture on her fingertips. Stak was right. For the first time in two years, she was crying.

Kriff.

“Excuse me,” she said, pushing against Trapper to force her way out of the booth. “I need to use the refresher.”

He moved, but not fast enough, and in her desperation, Cerra crawled over the top of him to escape. She stumbled blindly toward the refreshers, the strobing lights of the club blurring through her tears. Inside the refresher, she braced herself against the sink and took several deep, gulping breaths. She tilted her head up and caught sight of her devastated reflection.

“Fuck!” she screamed and punched the mirror. “Fuck! Fuck!”

The glass shattered with a satisfying crunch under her repeated strikes. Dimly, she heard raised voices outside the fresher door, and Rex shouting something in her earpiece, but she couldn’t make out any of it over her own guttural sobs. She sank to her knees on the grimy floor, and all of her grief and anguish poured out of her like the blood and tears that mingled together and dripped down onto the filthy tiles.

The door burst open, and someone cursed violently, then scooped her up and carried her back out into the flashing, pulsating club. Bodies jostled against her, but the arms that held her were strong and steady as they pushed through the crowd. Abruptly, they exited the club. The music receded, and the cool night air washed over her.

“Cerra!” Gregor said. “Cerra, come on baby, tell me you’re all right.”

She heard a strange keening sound and was mortified to realize it was coming from her.

“Echo is inbound,” Rex said, his voice clipped and harsh.

“Negative,” Gregor snapped. “There’s no time. She’s injured. Have to bring her in on the bike.”

“Copy that,” Rex said. “Echo, return to base and help me prep the med station.”

“On my way, Captain,” Echo said.

“The speeder is right here, honey,” Gregor said in a soothing tone. “I’m going to get you home. Karking damn you, Rex.” He muttered the last bit.

“Hey!” A shout came from behind them. “What the kriff do you think you’re doing? Let go of her!”

She could hear footsteps running toward them. She took a gasping breath, trying to steady herself enough to tell Gregor that she was okay, that she could walk. But instead, she lost control and began to hyperventilate, wheezing helplessly.

Gregor whirled around to face their pursuers, clutching Cerra to himself.

“Piss off,” he growled fiercely. “She’s coming with me.”

His voice had no trace of his usual good humor, and she could hear the deadly commando that lurked beneath the easygoing surface.

“You’re not taking Kallie anywhere,” one of the voices barked. “There’s four of us and one of you.”

“I like those odds,” Gregor said. “Now piss. off.”

Cerra choked, clawing at her throat. Her hand was slippery with blood.

“Kriff,” Gregor whispered, crouching down and setting Cerra gently on the plastcrete. He leaned her against himself and rubbed between her shoulders. “Breathe, sweetheart. All the way out. Come on, love, all the way out, then count with me. One, two, three, four, five. Now breathe in. One, two, three, four, five.”

“W—what’s wrong with her?” a voice asked. “She’s bleeding! What happened to her?”

Gregor ignored the questions and kept coaching Cerra’s breath until she slowed into some semblance of a normal rhythm. Her entire body trembled, and she felt sweaty and cold at the same time.

“Hey, asshole, I’m talking to you.” The voice was hard and angry and very close.

“What the fuck did you do to her?” Gregor snarled.

“What do you mean, what did we do to her?” the voice asked. “We were just talking, then she went to the fresher, and the next thing we knew, you were kidnapping her!”

“I don’t think he was kidnapping her, Stew,” a second voice said.

“Can you stand, honey?” Gregor asked gently against Cerra’s ear, apparently having decided to ignore the other clones.

Cerra nodded weakly. “I think so.”

Gregor stood and pulled Cerra gently to her feet, steadying her as she swayed. Once he was certain she was not about to pass out, he guided her onto the speeder bike.

“Easy, love. I’ve got you. I won’t let you fall.”

One brave soul approached and asked, “Kallie, are you all right?”

Cerra looked up and saw Stak fixing her with a worried stare.

“I’m all right, Stak, I just—” Her vision swam.

“Kark, she’s losing a lot of blood. We don’t have time for this.” Gregor mounted the speeder bike, cradling Cerra in his arms, and they were in motion before Stak could object. Gregor piloted the bike expertly through the skylane, muttering a combination of reassurances and curses in Cerra’s ear. She must have blacked out at some point, because the trip seemed much shorter than it should have, and then he was carrying her again—easing her out of her coat—laying her gently on a cot—examining her hand.

“Medkit,” a voice said, and it sounded just like him.

“Fives?” she whispered brokenly, but there was no answer.

She felt the sting of antiseptic as Gregor cleaned the wounds, and her eyes flew open at the sensation. Echo was handing Gregor medical supplies, and Rex paced in the background.

Not Fives. It’s Echo. It’s not him.

“You have glass in your hand, sweetheart,” Gregor said. “It’s going to hurt when I pull it out.”

“I’ll be fine,” she croaked.

“I’m going to count you down from three, okay? Three, two—”

A searing pain shot through her hand, and then he pressed the wound firmly with a gauze pad.

“Who taught you to kriffing count?” she gasped, her eyes watering.

“She’s got her potty mouth back,” Gregor said with a tiny laugh. “She’ll be all right.”

He pulled out a few more shards, then stitched up the worst of her injuries and applied a generous coating of bacta before wrapping her hand in bandages. Cerra kept her eyes trained on the ceiling, knowing from experience that it would be a bad idea to watch him work. Finally, he finished up and draped a blanket over her.

“All done, love.” He leaned over and pressed a kiss to her forehead as she felt a pinch on her shoulder. She whipped her head to the side and saw him withdrawing a hypospray.

“What was that?” she demanded, and then the world went black.

Echo began to clean and sanitize the improvised med station, gathering up the blood-soaked gauze and swabbing away the trail of red droplets that had oozed from Cerra’s hand as Gregor had carried her through the shop. Gregor handed the empty hypospray to Echo for disposal, then checked Cerra’s vital signs as she succumbed to the sedative he’d administered. Once he was satisfied that she was stable, he tucked the blanket more securely around her and stood. Tension radiated from him, and Echo gave him a wide berth.

“What happened?” Rex demanded.

Gregor snapped. He shoved Rex against the wall and pinned him in place, his forearm locked against the captain’s throat. Echo dropped the biohazard containment bag and rushed to intervene.

“You know kriffing well what happened,” Gregor snarled. “You knew she wasn’t ready, and you sent her in anyway.”

“She wouldn’t have gone if she didn’t think she could handle it,” Rex gritted out.

“She will do anything you tell her to, and you know it,” Gregor said, slamming against Rex again.

Rex shoved him off. “I didn’t have a choice.”

“Banthashit,” Gregor snapped. “I could have gone in alone.”

“And what good would that have done?” Rex demanded, a challenge clear in his voice. “Did you learn anything useful?”

“As a matter of fact, I did hear something interesting about the Balmorra system. I didn’t have a chance to find out more because I was busy watching Cerra’s back,” Gregor retorted.

“Oh, and you did a great job,” Rex taunted. “Guarded her so well she damn near bled out.”

Gregor laughed—a harsh, ugly sound that seemed out of place and wrong coming from him. His fist lashed out so fast that Echo almost didn’t see it happen. Rex stumbled backward, blood pooling in his mouth.

“Kark you, Rex. Stay the fuck away from her.”

Gregor strode away to stand guard next to Cerra’s makeshift cot. Rex started to follow, but Echo laid a hand on his shoulder to stop him. Rex shot him a questioning glance, and Echo jerked his head toward the landing platform. With one last look at Cerra’s unconscious form, Rex turned and followed Echo outside.

“What is it?” Rex asked.

Echo paced back and forth, anger and confusion buzzing just below the surface. “What the kriff, Rex? She and Fives were married? You didn’t think that was important enough to tell me?”

Rex didn’t meet his eyes, and when he spoke, his voice was hoarse. “I didn’t know.”

---

Next chapter

#captain gregor #captain rex #echo tbb #riyo chuchi #oc: cerra kilian #gregor x oc #echo x riyo chuchi #bad batch #star wars #bad batch fanfic #star wars fanfic #stars beyond number #dystopicjumpsuit writes #Spotify

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ominouspuff · 6 months

Note

;w; Untitled please, gutpuncher was too aptly named

This one is not in a specific AU; it’s just some scroobling around with scenes of a Victory!AU and what follows. (There is an extremely undignified dance eventually.) Imagine the end-scene of the Return of the Jedi where there are parties on every planet, but with the Clones present and shouldering a healthy share of the event management load just by taking initiative and partying the hardest they can.

UNTITLED - BOOT-SCOOTIN’ VICTORY - Smol Snippet:

One might have thought it would be an awkward position for a general to be suddenly on equal footing with his subordinates, ranks dispensed with and titles tossed like so many petals into the air. When the general in question is one Obi-Wan Kenobi, it is no such thing.

Beneath the vast dome of the senate’s rotunda, surrounded on all sides by bodies and noise, Obi-Wan watches the crowd of men before him instead of the senator still speaking to him, grinning so broadly he’s sure his cheeks will split.

Every threat is gone. The case is won. They are free men.

Obi-Wan can see familiar faces amid the sea of mirrored features. He is possessed with the urge to grab each set of hands, seize faces and shoulders and laugh into messy, sweaty hair that smells of life and living. The impulse is not his own — his own feelings well low and deep in his gut, incandescently overjoyed, but not so bubbling. His fingertips twitch with it. Like a swelling wave he rides the immaterial singing force in the air, maintaining his position within it, hands clasped at his back.

Waxer is dancing, Obi-Wan thinks; although he makes a show of redefining the word. Boil is laughing from his knees, eyes screwed shut and face upturned, something wet in the sound.

(More happy-vibing sightseeing from Obi for a bit here, runs into a few more familiar faces, still doesn’t involve himself directly)

Obi-Wan searches the crowd again, laughing now — and catches a glimpse of Rex.

Rex is trembling with hands upraised and fingers loose, eyes glazed wide with shock, caught up in what looks to be a painfully tight embrace with Obi-wan’s very own Marshall-Commander-no-more. Cody’s close-shorn head buries into the other’s neck-guard, his gloved fingers squealing where they grip at plastoid, armored shoulders rigid and still. They are still as statues compared to the heaving throng of clones around them.

Obi-Wan excuses himself from the throng of watching senators poorly, his voice reduced to a thread, his words tumbling gracelessly, conflicting needs to laugh or burst into messy tears tearing painfully at the corners of his mouth.

Sluggishly he moves, and when he finally quits the halls it is with backwards steps into helpful shadows, because — Force have mercy on a giddy fool, but joy renders Obi-Wan an indecisive man who cannot pick which glimpse must be his last.

END SNIPPET

#artists on tumblr #Fanfic writing #Fanfic WIP #fix it au #star wars: the clone wars #commander cody #captain rex #obi wan kenobi #clone trooper boil #clone trooper waxer #Implied Vod’e #Implied shenanigans #Star Wars Fanfiction #wip tag game

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ili-ote · 6 months

Text

Intensely feeling the need for Rex to have his own show. And for it to be announced on May 4 this year post TBB finale.

There are as many hints in TBB S3 that it could happen as there are ones that it won’t. And that scares me. Scares me.

I have these feels on a regular basis and have done for some while (years by now) They are daily at this rate as we progress through S3. It’s a little exhausting 🙄

#captain rex #clone wars #star wars #the bad batch #rex #tbb #tbb the final season #can Rex please have his own show?#it’s about time he got to be the main character in something #I’d love to see him doing his best to fight the Empire before he goes off with Gregor and Wolffe #feeling very strongly about getting to see Rex and Echo’s experiences we’ve only heard about this far #tbb echo #echo

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mydarllinglover · 6 months

Text

Stars Collided || Seventeen

Lovisa paced the corridors of the "Base" as she desperately waited for signs of anyone.

"Please, Princess, let me aid you." A Medic with blonde hair, that was wrapped up into a tight and neat bun, asked, for what seemed like the sixth time, since she had been here. "I'll patch you up, and it won't take much of your time."

"No, I'm fine." She refused, staring at the doors, once more, willing them to open.

"Princess, I'm afraid you'll catch an sickness, if you do not let me clean and dress it. It's my job, and I can not let the royal highness die, on my watch."

"Later." She rolled her eyes. "It's not bad, I promise."

"M'lady, your back is soaked in blood, and the makeshift wrap, you have made out of your skirt, has been seeped through.”

She looked behind her, at where she had ripped her skirt, allowing it to fall to her mid thigh, using the excess material to tie around her waist, had in fact absorbed the blood from her wound.

"Rex!" She called to the man, who walked through the corridor. "Any news?"

"No, your highness, but I assure you, as soon as Young Tano and Skywalker show up, you'll be the first to know."

"Very well." She sighed, dropping her head.

"Princess, please allow me to fix you up, and you can come back to tearing a hole through the floor.”

"Fine." She groaned. "Be quick."

"I will." She led the girl through the other double doors, and into a room.

Lovisa untied the fabric, dropping it to the floor, as she laid on her stomach, on the medical bed, that was in the room.

"I must say, Princess, with a wound like this, you've been holding a brave face." The medic said, sounding almost proud.

"It's nothing." She shrugged, her arms crossed under her, as she rested her chin, on them. "I watched people die, today, because I was stupid enough to get caught."

"There was nothing you could have done, to prevent it, Princess." The woman told her, as she cleaned her back.

"No, there was." She sighed. "What is this place?"

"The GAR barracks, in Coruscant, your highness. We were located here, for the upcoming war."

"War? What war?" Lovisa furrowed her brows.

"THE war, M'lady. It's been looming over our heads, for a while, but I guess it's been officially kicked off at the battle that just took place, in Geonosis, The King had been trying to prevent it, but I guess the Separatists weren't having it, considering they finally got their hands on one of you."

"Wait, what?"

"Are you not aware of what's been happening?"

"No, uhm, I- I haven't really been around, in a fortnight."

"Oh. Well, maybe this is something you could ask the King, once you're back at the Palace, I'm sorry for oversharing, your highness."

"No, no, thank you..."

"Sola, your highness."

"Well, thank you, Sola, I'm not sure if you've noticed, yet, but I am not my sister, so no one ever thinks I'm worthy of knowing anything."

"I apologise If I've overstepped."

"You haven't, I assure you, it seems as though I've just threw the first stone in a war I didn't even know existed." Lovisa promised, as she sat up, once Sola had finished bandaging her up.

"Help! Help! We need a medic!" A voice shouted, it was Ahsoka's.

"Snips!" Lovisa gasped, almost throwing herself off the bed, as she went to run out the room, Sola hot on her trail.

They rushed through the double doors, to spot Obi-Wan and Ahsoka holding up a barely conscience Anakin, who seemed to be bleeding, from his arm.

"Oh gods!" Lovisa screamed, as she ran to his side, taking Ahsoka's place. "Ani, oh, Ani, what happened."

"It seems as though two people have now bested me, in a duel." Anakin's cheek fell onto her own hair, as he mumbled to her.

"What's the damage?" Sola asked Obi-Wan, as she wheeled over a gurney, and they helped lay the boy down.

"His right arm has... been cut clean off, just above the elbow." Obi-Wan struggled to say. "We tried to stop the bleeding as best we could."

"Good." Sola told him. "I will need to cauterise it, though I'm going to need you to stay awake, can you do that for me..."

"Anakin, his name's Anakin Skywalker." Obi-Wan rambled.

"Anakin, I really need you to try and keep your eyes open."

"Vis." He paid no attention to the medic, as he raised his only hand, twirling a curl of the Princess's hair, in between his thumb and index finger.

"Ani, I'm right here, okay, I'm not going anywhere, but you gotta keep talking, alright, tell me, what happened?"

Sola nodded at the girl, as she took off the makeshift bandages on his "stump" That was still spurting blood, as they rushed back into the room Lovisa and Sola were just in.

"We- we were duelling Count Dooku, I wanted to make him pay, for what he put you through, but- he- my hands gone, he took my hand, my duelling hands gone!" He whined.

"My poor Ani." She soothed, as she took his left hand, in hers, running her other through his hair, as she tried to calm him down.

"I'm sorry, Mr Skywalker, but I'm afraid this is going to be very painful." Sola told him, as the metal tool was heating up.

"What- what are you doing! No, stop!" He fought, trying to get up, but Obi-Wan helped push him down, as Lovisa attempted to calm him.

"No, stop, she's helping, she's going to make it better, okay, just breathe, copy me, look, breathe." Lovisa took in deep breathes, in through her nose, holding it for three seconds, before exhaling through her mouth, urging him to copy, as panic shone through his eyes. "Good, good, just keep watching me, keep your eyes on me."

"You're so... beautiful." He whispered, clearly distracted as he continued to stare at her.

"Thank you." She chuckled, awkwardly, not knowing how to react, in the presence of his master and the medic.

"I'm so inlo-"

"Here, bite down on this." Ahsoka told him, shoving a leather belt, into his mouth, that Sola had grabbed out of a draw, only a few moments ago.

Lovisa glanced at Ahsoka, a look of gratitude on her face, as she swiped at Anakin's cheeks.

"Okay... I'm going to count to three, Okay, Anakin?" Sola asked him, and he nodded, looking between her and the others around him, squeezing Lovisa's hand, tightly, as he clamped down on the belt. "One... Two..."

Anakin screamed in pain, thrashing on the gurney, trying his hardest to get away from the woman who was pressing a white hot blade against the remaining part of his arm.

Obi-Wan looked away, as he kept a strong grip, on the boy, not being able to stand the sight of him in such pain, and neither could the two girls, at his side.

"Anakin, you still with us?" Sola asked, once she took it off, and his body had gone limp.

"Ani, it's over, okay, the hard parts over, you did so well." Lovisa encouraged, as she wiped away his tears. "You did so, so well, I'm so proud of you."

He shook his head, his eyes closed, tightly.

"It's okay to rest, now." Sola told him, and if waiting for her permission was the thing keeping him awake, he fell unconscious.

"Is he going to be okay?" Ahsoka asked.

"I should hope so, I can't say how long he'll be out, for, but his body is going to need lots of rest, after what he has gone through. I'll be in to check up on him regularly, but his pulse is coming to a steady pace, that's a good sign, the boy's a fighter."

"That he is." Obi-Wan agreed.

"I'll be back soon, I get the sense that he'll be watched carefully under you all?" Sola asked.

"Yes." They all answered.

"Very well." She nodded, before leaving the room, to check on the other injured, that had been brought in, after the Jedi.

"I see that you both have changed your opinions, on one another." Obi-Wan broke the silence, that had fell around the room.

Lovisa lifted her gaze, from the sleeping Anakin, meeting the man's eyes.

"I guess you could say that." She muttered. "We came to an mutual understanding, I suppose."

#anakin fanfiction #anakin x reader #anakin imagine #anakin x you #star wars anakin #sw anakin #anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker x reader smut #obi wan and anakin #ahsoka tano #anakin star wars #anakin and padme #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin smut #yandere anakin skywalker

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ninjababypowpow · 2 months

Note

Hi there !

So. You said something about A DETROIT BECOME HUMAN AU ???? AND A SPIES AGENCY AU ?????

Tell me everything you want to share please please please !!

I'll buy you in cookies in exchange 🥺🥺

*cracks knuckles* BUCKLE IN CHUCKLELOVE

The Detroit Become Human AU (Words in the Heart, bc I am pterry trash) borrows liberally from the gameand also a bit from a tv show called Almost Human, which is VERY GOOD and it has Karl Urban in it. Basicallly Bacara is Hank, more or less, without the sad backstory, he's just a grump who doesn't like androids. Obviously, he gets assigned a new partner, who is an android. Prototype Model CC-1010, who is at the same time exactly and not at all like Bacara expected. TOGETHER THEY FIGHT CRIME They eventually stumble upon a string of murders done by androids who then...basically committed brain suicide? They deleted their own memory core and programming. (During this they meet a host of supporting characters, like Android Rights Activist Maul Opress and his brothers, who specializes in being an asshole to humans and nice to androids and who may or may not run a scheme to smuggle androids out of the country to more openminded ones, rookie!Cop Rex who once almost puked on a corpse and is forever on Bacara's shitlist for that, pleasure bot Cody who may or may not be leader of an extremely subtle revolution and many more! For you, a snippet!

The drive to the scene was awkward as shit. Bacara kept glancing to the man - machine - sitting next to him, who kept staring at him. Eventually he couldn’t take it anymore. “What?” “Nothing, Detective.” Bacara ground his teeth. “You’re staring at me.” “Yes, I am watching you.” “It’s fucking unnerving. Stop it.” “Would you like me to close my eyes?” “What? No, just - just look out the window or something. Jesus Christ.” The android turned his head and began staring out the window. The ride returned to the previous awkward silence. “What’s your name anyway?” Bacara finally asked, prompting the android to look over at him again. “My designation is CC-1010, Detective.” The duh was not spoken but heavily implied. “That’s a fucking mouthful to say. Don’t you have a name I can call you?” The LED flashed yellow, whirring for a long time, then very abruptly turned red and stopped completely. The android’s face remained completely passive throughout, but when it turned red he frowned for just a moment. Then the LED returned to blue and his face smoothed out. “You may choose whatever alternate designation you wish.” Bacara huffed. “I’m not naming you like you’re a pet or something. Pick your own damn name.” The LED went yellow again. Back to blue. “I…will think about it, Detective.” The android looked at him for a moment more and then turned his gaze back out the window. Bacara grumbled. Leave it to Androids to make everything complicated.

woooohoooooo

THE SPY AGENCY AU (Who Wants To Live Forever) features the good guys, FORCE and the evil organization SITH feuding against each other for years when SITH send their currently best asset, one of KaminoLabs most successful trainees, Cipher Nine (also know as Fox), to "defect" and thus infiltrate FORCE. Fox does this, thinking it will be easy. And it really is, too, these agents of FORCE are so soft it's kind of embarrassing SITH has so much trouble with them. And then Fox becomes part of the squad. And experiences what living is for the first time, instead of existing. But he is still technically a double agent, even as his loyalties slowly, but inexorably shift... This one borrows a lot of Marvel stuff - SHIELD and HYDRA and so on. Fox is Black Widow completely with the Red Room (here KaminoLabs) Another snippet!

Time to start acting. It really didn't take much. A few faked moments of vulnerability here and there, carefully avoiding civilian casualties, handing coins to a few homeless kids. Acting reluctant to kill the agents during an encounter. "You're Cipher Nine, right? We saw you were on a mission here." A show of hesitation. "So what?" Fox let a slight tinge of curiosity into his voice. Hook… "We saw how you avoided harming innocents." Innocents, Fox rolled his eyes mentally. "I…" another hesitant pause. "I achieved the mission goal." "Yeah, sure. But you don't really want to do these things, right?" "I don't have a choice. SITH doesn't tolerate failure or…disobedience." Line… "We can help you. You can leave. FORCE would take you in, I swear." Fox let relief show in his eyes, along with a heaping dose of tentative hope, and lowered his gun. "Really?" He asked with a wavering voice. He could almost see Agent Lightning puff up in morally righteous protectiveness. "Really. Just lower your gun and let me bring you in." Sinker.

they are both really big projects and are mocking me mercilessly, but I love them. They're both Foxcare, too, though Fox has to die in the spy au first before something really happens there. (Also, Ponds gets his leg blown off, sorry Ponds)

I really, really appreciate your excitement and love! It makes me smile so wide and really fires me up to write more, even though I am currently in MtaS porn hell.

[]~(￣▽￣)~*

#tori answers

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petertingle-yipyip · 1 year

Text

MAD AT GOD - MATT MURDOCK

Season Three - House of Memories

tags: @ironprincessstranger @johnmurphys-sass @dusstory @americaarse @astrobees @mayasaurus--rex @woowwwee // two // Season 2B // masterlist

Pairing: Bullseye X Reader (Casual) , Matt X Reader (Past)

Word Count: 9,558

Summary: Times have changed since Midland Circle, so has Y/N. As she attempts to move forward, relationships are strained and circumstances are less than favorable. Can she cope on her own or will she fall back into old habits?

“Welcome to our final class for the semester!” The professor announced as he paraded into the room. Various hoots and claps came from around you but you simply smiled, glad to have another class checked off your schedule. “As you know, today is the final day for debates. We have only a few to get through so the quicker we go, the quicker we enjoy our winter break. Y/L/N, you’re up first!”

You pushed yourself up and hurried down the lecture hall steps until you reached the front. You stood at the closer podium and scanned the notes that waited for you.

A man attempts to break into a house late at night. The owner, a single woman, owns a retired police dog - a German Shepherd to be specific. He bites the perpetrator but releases and recalls when the noise wakes the woman and she calls him back. You’re supposed to argue the man is at fault. Your opposition will argue that the woman is.

“There’s five people you can choose to argue against, or I can choose for you.” Your professor said as you looked up at the empty podium across from you.

“You can pick.. But don’t make it easy.” You shrugged and glanced up at Matt. You knew he hadn’t gone yet and he was smiling down at you.

“Mr. Murdock!” He called and you grinned. “My two top students should go against each other, don’t you think? C’mon down, my boy!”

Matt laughed slightly and made his way down, cane bouncing off the steps. The professor pulled a different copy of the notes from his bag and placed it at Matt’s podium. You gave him a minute while he ran his fingers over the page and his brows raised in interest.

“Ladies first.” The professor bowed and stepped back.

“Clearly, the man is at fault.” You began easily. “Attempted breaking and entering.”

“Yes, but this dog is trained to attack and by New York law, that makes the owner liable.” Matt countered. “Just compensate for the $2,200 in medical bills and call it a day.”

“Yes, but New York law also states that if the victim is trespassing or provoking the animal, the owner isn’t liable.”

“How do you know he was provoking the animal?”

“Security footage.”

“That wasn’t in the notes.” Matt smiled slightly.

“You’re going to assume a woman who lives alone doesn’t have cameras?” You raised your brows.

“Regardless, the dog is trained to attack. Especially being retired police, there must’ve been training for him to engage in certain situations.”

“Certain hostile situations, you mean.”

“You can’t be sure the man was hostile.”

“Why was he breaking into her house then?”

“Maybe he wasn’t. Maybe he was running, looking for somewhere to hide or someone to help him. The dog misread the body language and attacked, unprovoked.”

“Can I ask you something, Mr. Murdock?”

“Please.” He smiled.

“If I threaten you, are you within your rights to defend yourself?”

“Yes, I am.”

“And if I am threatened, can I defend myself?”

“Yes.”

“With whatever I feel is necessary?”

“Sure.”

“Exactly. The dog felt it’s home and owner were threatened. It reacted accordingly.”

“Sounds a bit like victim blaming, doesn’t it?” He asked with a tilt of his head and you almost laughed.

“Coming from the man blaming an animal.”

“Let me ask you something, Ms. Y/L/N. By going off your last statement, your addressing the animal like it’s a weapon.”

“And if I had a concealed carry permit, do I have to show it to you or announce it before defending myself with said weapon?”

“No. But you are still held responsible if you kill your attacker, even if it’s self-defense.”

“You seem to be sympathizing with the attacker. Tell me, Mr. Murdock. Do you?”

“Are you insinuating I hurt people?” His voice feigned hurt but he nearly laughed in amusement.

“Of course not.” You said honestly. “But I do think you enjoy a bit of power.”

“Do you sympathize with the woman?”

“With a woman, on her own, being attacked by someone who she owes nothing to?” You challenged slightly, putting more of a personal anger into the words than intended. “I think any woman in the room would.”

“Maybe that’s clouding your judgment.”

“Is that an ad hominem I hear? Maybe you’re trying to attack me because you know your argument is weak.”

“I’ll admit that the man shouldn’t have gone breaking into houses. However, the woman should’ve had signage posted that a dog with the training and intent to protect was on the premises.”

“Should she have put a sign on every corner of her fence?” You raised your brows. “Because for all we know, there’s a sign on her front gate.”

“I don’t remember if it’s in the notes so just assume there is.” Your professor agreed, seemingly enthralled in your discussion like his favorite TV show. “You two are doing fantastic. You’ve almost gotten to the deciding factor.”

“With posted signage at the front of her property, she shouldn’t have to post it on the back if there’s no typical entry there.” You continued.

“One sign is easy to overlook.” Matt shrugged.

“Not if you enter the property in the proper way. Therefore, the only way the woman is liable would be if the dog bit the man on the sidewalk, since it’s public property.”

“Can we get a description of what the dog bites look like?” Matt turned to your professor.

“Should be on the second page.” He nodded and you cleared your throat. He looked at you and you gave a small jerk of your head towards Matt. “Of course. You’d think I’d remember.” He mumbled and your class chuckled.

You moved to his podium with your paper in hand and reached for his arm. He gave it to you willingly so you pushed the sleeve of his shirt up and twisted it so you could see the inside of his forearm while dropping your page on top of his.

“Punctures from the top canines here.” You used two fingers pressed against his skin as you looked at the paper. “Bottom here. Bruising along here.” Your fingers trailed along his arm and he shivered slightly. “Another set of punctures here, with a bit of lacerations. Less than an inch maybe.”

“A second set of punctures?” His brows furrowed beneath his glasses and you recognized the tone of his voice. He heard something of interest. “So the dog bit once, let go, and bit again? And shook, if there were lacerations.”

“The lacerations are newer, based on the blood color.” You countered. “They don’t look like a shake. It looks like he was pulling his arm away.”

“How can you tell?”

“Because they go downwards. Typically, shakes just make the initial punctures deeper and a little wider, little messier. If anything the movement would be horizontal.”

“Anything else on the bites?”

“No, but..” You flipped the page over and found another photo, though this one was the dog covered in blood and a copy of a vet bill. “There’s a vet bill.”

You flipped Matt’s notes and found what you assumed was the same thing just in braille. You put his hand against it and read your own.

“The dog had damage to his left eye and socket, a chunk missing from his ear and a bloody line four inches down his side.” You explained the photo. “Was the dog shot?”

Your professor nodded.

“Your guy shot her dog.” You turned back to Matt. “Probably used the butt of the gun to hit its eye.”

“You’re right.” He nodded with a small smile. “The woman’s not at fault.”

“You wanted the $2200 for medical?” You asked and he nodded. “Vet bills were $3700. Pay out the difference and we’ll call it even.”

Matt grinned and shook your hand. Your professor stood and celebrated, causing the class to give polite claps. Foggy gave a loud shout from the back.

———————————————

How he survived, he didn’t know. When he finally washed up after Midland Circle, he felt closer to death than he ever had before. He hardly had strength to breathe, let alone try to get home. Try to get to Y/N.

The thought of her was the only thing that kept him going. She was the only thing that had him even considering healing, considering living after that. He heard her voice in every thought. Her touch seemed to ghost his skin though she was nowhere near.

I can’t lose you, Matty. I just can’t.

I trust you with my life.

I want you with me.

I’ve never felt safer than when I’m with you.

My life isn’t worth yours.

Just don’t let it take you from us, okay?

How could he ever face her again? To stand in front of her, knowing she would break down, and ask her to forgive him for sacrificing his life. And for what? For his own pride? For Elektra? And not even the Elektra they both knew and loved at that, but a hollowed out version driven by her own selfish desires.

“Where…? Where…?” He tried to get out a full question but every word seemed to die as it fell from his lips.

“St. Agnes. The orphanage.” A familiar voice answered but he couldn’t make out anything else. Matt felt like someone had shoved a pound of dry cotton into his ears. And while he appreciated the knowledge of where he was, that wasn’t what he wanted to know.

“How long?”

“Several weeks.”

“Where is she?”

“Who?”

“Y/N.”

“She’s come and gone for the day.” The woman rushed an answer and the words made Matt’s head spin violently as he sat up. Or was that more the residual injuries? “Get back in the bed! You’ll hurt yourself!”

“My right ear… I can’t..”

Matt tried to get out of the bed but he collapsed to the floor with the first step. It was like his body forgot how to move. His own skeleton failed him and let him crash to the ground and a wound at his side gnawed angrily at the impact. The fluid between his ears was as uneasy as the ocean and nothing around him felt solid. The only thing that kept him in that moment was the cold floor beneath him and the firm hands that tried to haul him up.

She’s come and gone for the day.

Why was Y/N at the church? She didn’t believe in any of it. Was she looking for Matt? Did she already know he was alive? If she knew, she would’ve been beside him. He firmly believed that if she knew, she wouldn’t leave his side. She would’ve sat there, day and night, waiting to scream at him for abandoning her or to make sure he actually pulled through. There would’ve been some piece of her left in that room, whether it be the warmth of her skin or the scent of her perfume or the sound of her voice. Something would’ve still been there, unless maybe it was and Matt just couldn’t tell. What a cold loneliness he felt around him when he considered that thought.

To anything outside that small, lonely room in the orphanage, Daredevil - and in turn, for some at least, Matt Murdock - was dead.

————————————

Matt and Foggy were in their dorm room, the afternoon after meeting Y/N.

Saying the girl was electric was an understatement. From the second he heard her say his name, he was a goner. He had known her for mere minutes, hours if you count the night, but he felt something in his chest when she introduced herself. His heart thumped faster when she laughed and time seemed to slow when she touched him.

He started to wonder if that’s what it meant to have a soulmate.

“Are you gonna call her?” Foggy asked that morning.

“We met her last night, Foggy.” Matt reasoned with a nervous chuckle. “I’m not gonna call her.”

“Dude.”

“I’m not!”

“You’re gonna miss this perfect opportunity? Matt, c’mon man! She was gorgeous!”

“I-“

“No, like you don’t get it. She was probably the most beautiful woman to have ever walked this campus. You should’ve seen her.”

“Well I-“

“Don’t!” Foggy cut in so Matt smiled innocently. “Do not make a blind joke right now.”

“If she’s so beautiful, then you call her.” Matt tried, though the suggestion felt like a slap to the face.

“I’m not the one she was making googly eyes at on the walk back last night.”

“How was I supposed to know that?”

“I-“ Foggy began before a loud, exasperated sigh. “Matt! Dude!”

“Foggy!” Matt replied in the same tone. “It’s fine. We’ll probably run into her in class anyway.”

“You’re gonna just wait and hope that you two run into each other again by chance? When she’s probably the most perfect and smart and beautiful and charming and-“

“Sounds like you liked her more than I did.” Matt mumbled and dropped onto his back across his mattress.

“Matt. Matthew. My friend.” Foggy said as he came and sat on his friend’s bed beside him. “I’m telling you this because I love you. Call the girl!”

“I’m not gonna call her!” Matt laughed. “C’mon man. You really think a girl like that - as beautiful as you say she is and can speak that many languages and who knows what else she can do. You think a girl like that is gonna wanna be with me?”

“Buddy, I think she would’ve married you last night if you had asked.”

Matt couldn’t help but laugh.

“Alright, fine.” He sighed dramatically, though he was admittedly giddy. “I’ll call her. Dial her number for me.”

“Do you hear that?” Foggy joked as he found the scrap of her book page that she wrote her number on and dialed on Matt’s phone. “Sounds like wedding bells, my friend. Mr. and Mrs. Y/L/N-Murdock.”

“Y/L/N-Murdock, huh?” Matt laughed as he held the phone to his ear.

“Yeah, you’re right… Murdock-Y/L/N? Nah, I don’t like that either. Maybe just Mr. and Mrs. Y/L/N.”

“It’s about time, Murdock.” Y/N joked on the other end of the call. “And here I thought you forgot about me.”

————————————

“Matthew.” Father Lantom announced his arrival one day and Matt was drawn out of the same spiral of thoughts that haunted him. The same circulation of memories that plagued him.

“Father, I didn’t know you were there.” Matt answered honestly, though the feeling in his right ear was as nagging as ever. “Sister Maggie said something before… About Y/N.”

“Oh.. Yes.” He nodded and Matt noticed his hesitation. It was as if he was thinking of how to tell Matt whatever he knew. “She’s been coming around a bit more often lately.”

“Does she know?”

“No… No, I haven’t been able to bring myself to tell her.”

“Why does she come then?”

“You know, it’s the strangest thing. She’s only come inside once.. Said the building doesn’t smell like cinnamon anymore, whatever that means.”

Matt sighed heavily, understanding exactly what she meant. Though he had never smelled it himself, he knew it was how the devotion in the building showed up to her. It was part of her abilities, how she described the church as warm and alive with everyone’s belief. She described anger as red, hot and burning. Sadness was cold and blue. Happiness was a soft purple. Love was pink and fuzzy. Fear, yellow and bitter. He wondered what she was feeling now.

“Instead she just… sits on the bench out front until one of the boys comes to collect her for work. Poor thing.” Lantom continued and it made Matt’s heart twist.

“It’s my fault.. She was with me that night and I- I made her leave. I couldn’t let her die with me.” Matt said weakly.

“She’s doing well lately, better since she’s recovered.”

Matt wondered what that meant but he didn’t dwell on it.

“The.. The way her voice broke when she- When she called out for me… I heard her scream when it all happened.”

Just talking about it replayed that scream and he felt his heart splinter again.

“I’m sure she would love to see you.”

“I just can’t get that sound out of my head.” He nearly whispered.

“She used to say the last thing you said to her played in her head like a record on repeat… Said she’d give anything to hear you say her name again.”

Matt said nothing this time. He would love to have Y/N come by but he knew it wasn’t fair. He’d been gone for several weeks, at least. That could’ve meant months. Y/N could’ve gotten over everything and seeing him, knowing he was alive and she had been so close to him every time she came, it would only break her again. How could he put her through that? How could he be so selfish?

“Matthew, you have to admit it is a miracle that you survived.” Lantom tried.

“That’s how most of our conversations tend to go.” Matt complained and rolled to his side. “Let’s just give it a rest.”

Lantom left after that, allowing Matt to wallow in his own thoughts and boredom.

He wondered who were the boys that came for Y/N. What of her life was still the same? Did Exodus come back to protect the Kitchen, to take out her anger and pain on those she thought deserved it? Or did she sit at home, alone in the apartment that they had danced in? The apartment they had cooked dinners in and cleaned together and where she taught him more and more Russian. Was she as alone as he was? Chased by memories of something buried alive.

Those were the thoughts that plagued Matt day in and day out. He thought of his other friends, too. Karen and Foggy. He wondered if Jessica or Luke or Danny had checked in on Y/N. He even wondered if Frank had heard and looked out for her

Matt wasn’t sure how long exactly it had been since his conversation with Father Lantom about Y/N when Sister Maggie brought her up as well.

“There must be at least one person I can call for you.” She said, almost regretfully and there was a hint of a knowing tone in her voice.

“No.” Matt decided. “There’s no one.”

“What about the girl?”

“What girl?”

“The sad, pretty one. Although lately she seems more angry than sad.” She described her simply and a brief smile crossed Matt’s face. “She comes every morning and has told me about a specific someone who sounds remarkably like you. And given all of that, I’m guessing she was the one you liked to do backflips with.”

“Exodus.”

Sister Maggie hummed in response.

“Her name is Y/N.” Matt said, almost defensively. He couldn’t take her down to only her vigilante name because she was so much more than that. He helped her see that, so ignoring that would be wrong. Exodus was part of who Y/N was, not the entirety.

“You should consider yourself lucky to have found a girl like that that’s willing to put up with all of this.”

“Yeah…”

Back at the apartment, you were getting home for the day. It was an easy day. You had been back from Quantico for a few months, but everything from Billy at the carousel set back your timeline. After your mandated therapy and physical rehab, today was the first day you were unrestricted, though of course your luck meant nothing exciting happened.

You reached for your door handle and found it already unlocked. You walked in confidently after dropping your purse and coat by the door, a hand hovering at the gun on your hip, only to find Karen. She was kneeling by the closet under your stairs with the case to Matt’s suit open in front of her.

“I could’ve told you it’s still not there.” You said simply, removing your gun and badge from your belt and tossing them to the table. “It’s not coming back, Karen. Neither is he.”

“I’m sorry. I should’ve called.” She answered gently, a sadness in her voice.

“Yeah..” You agreed quickly. “Want a drink?”

“I’m okay, thanks.. But uh, how are you?”

“That’s not what this is about.” You threw the fridge shut. “Y’know, come to think of it, I don’t know why you keep coming back and looking for it.”

“I know.. I just can’t shake the feeling that-“

“Not even that.” You laughed with annoyance. “You don’t remember what you told him, do you? When you came by the next day after he told you about all that.” You pointed to the closet.

She was quiet so you continued.

“I don’t think Daredevil’s the problem.” You repeated and her eyes dropped. Her guilt tinted the air with a stale feeling, vaguely smelling like old water. “You didn’t want him in your life as Daredevil but now that he’s gone, you pretend that you cared about the suit.”

She looked back to you quickly. “I didn’t care about the suit. I cared about him.”

“You cared about Matt… Yeah, I’ll give you that. But you didn’t give a shit about Daredevil. You can’t separate the two!”

“Is that why you liked him? Because he was Daredevil.”

“Oh my god.” You muttered.

“Because you liked a guy that you could treat like shit and still expect him to care?”

“Fuck you, Karen.” You snapped. “I cared about Matt long before he even thought about Daredevil so don’t stand there and act like you know anything about our relationship.”

“No, you’re right. Because you two kept so many goddamn secrets nobody really knew either of you, right?”

“Is this really what you came for? To fight with me.” You came around the counter and took a few steps closer to her, making her step back. “Because if you did, you can walk right back out the door and y’know what. You don’t even have to come back. Okay? I don’t need this shit from you anymore. I’m done, Karen.”

She was quiet and you felt the way your words sliced through her but you were too angry to stop talking. You let that anger burn through you as the words fell from your lips.

“Evidently, the only reasons we got along were because Matt and Frank were mutual friends. Now that they’re not around, we have nothing.” You shrugged. “You don’t have to pretend to care about me anymore. I don’t need a pity friend. And I don’t want one.”

“I shouldn’t have said that.” She replied quietly, like a child being yelled at by her parents. “I’m sorry. We’re just worried, me and Foggy.”

“Well don’t be. I’m fine.” You offered a sarcastic expression before going back to the far side of the counter.

She nodded slightly. “I don’t believe that.”

“I don’t care. I don’t need a babysitter. I still make a couple meetings for that support group with Curtis. I left Anvil and the Billy fiasco behind. I’m trying to take the FBI offer seriously. I don’t know what else you and him need me to do to convince you that I’m fine.”

“Foggy said you’re going to Matt’s church again.”

“Oh my-“ You mumbled. “That’s what this is about? Because I sit on a stupid bench?”

“It’s more than just a bench, Y/N.”

“What else is there to say? What are you fishing for?” You sighed heavily and leaned your palms against your countertop, nearly wincing at the sharp contrast of the cool surface against your burning skin. “I’m moving on. Isn’t that what you wanted?”

A series of quick knocks sounded at your door.

“What you both wanted.” You corrected as you went to open the door, seeing Foggy standing on the other side.

“Surprise.” He smiled nervously.

“Whatever intervention or ambush this is, I don’t need it.” You announced as you headed back into the living room. “I’m doing great.”

“I just came to see my friend. We haven’t had time to get together since you’ve been back, given all the other stuff that happened.” Foggy said honestly. You turned to face him and stared for a moment, reading his emotions. You found he wasn’t coming from a place of worry or concern. Just friendship.

You offered a small smile in response as your own headspace cleared. Maybe you needed someone familiar to be around for a bit. “Then you can stay a while. And if you don’t try to pick another fight, Karen, you can stay too.”

You had to admit. Foggy’s good heart and honest energy seemed to be the only thing lately that could help your heart break through.

Back at the church, Sister Maggie was continuing her conversation with Matt.

“Angry, sarcastic, and stubborn. Maybe you don’t have any friends.” Maggie joked, though Matt didn’t find it funny.

“Someone once told me that warriors were meant to be alone.” He answered simply rather than argue. “That caring for people would make me weak.”

“Is that what you told that Exodus girl?”

“Y/N.” Matt said defensively to himself.

“That you’d be weak if you cared? Cause it doesn’t seem like she got the memo.”

“I let people in, I paid a price… If anyone can understand that, it’s her. I won’t make that mistake again.”

“Would she call it a mistake?”

“You really wanna push the Y/N topic, don’t you?” Matt groaned. Not because he didn’t want to talk about Y/N, but because it just hurt too much still.

“She seems to be the only topic that gets you to talk.” Maggie countered.

The conversation then shifted to Job after Matt found his old Bible and the way Matt thought he was serving God the same way. Matt admitted that he didn’t hate God, but he felt he understood Him better and understood where they stood with each other.

“For the record, I had friends. I had a life, a girlfriend and I- I loved her, probably would’ve married her one day. Started a family of our own down the road. I care about people and I’m choosing to let them believe that I’m gone because I am.”

“Tell that to the girl that sits on that bench every morning.”

“You don’t get it.” He sighed.

“I think I do, Matthew. She makes you happy, and that’s the worst thing for you.”

“I know my truth now, Sister.”

“What truth?”

“I’d rather die as the Devil than live as Matt Murdock.”

“So I guess she’d rather live as Y/N, without either, and blame herself for the Devil’s death.”

“At least she’ll live.”

“But what kind of a life is that?”

Sister Maggie left after that, allowing Matt to sit in his own continuous misery. Missing Foggy, Y/N, and Karen. That was his own punishment. He deserved that, for all the pain and suffering he had brought to them. He was better alone, the same as Y/N tried to convince herself she was, and he hoped she had started to believe she was better without him. Difference was that he chose to do what he did. Y/N was made into it. The only thing he would change was that Y/N blamed herself.

That night, Sister Maggie came back.

“I think you’re a hero, hiding down here and feeling sorry for yourself.” She said simply. “Just out back, there’s an orphanage full of kids who’ve lost everything and everyone. Some of them disabled, much worse off than you ever were. And they’re still trying to make the most out of life, the little cowards.”

“Okay, alright.” Matt cut in.

“I mean it! Here you are, with all the gifts God gave you. Handsome, smart, a law degree, people who care about you. You have a beautiful, thoughtful girl that comes here every single day without fail who only wants to see you again. Doesn’t even know you’re here, mind you. But you’re so bravely giving up.”

“Y’know, thank you for the tough love, Sister.” Matt complained as he hobbled across the cold room. “And your charmingly simplistic view of God and the world. I appreciate everything you’ve done for me, I really do, but don’t for a second think you know anything about me or her or my life.”

“I’ve been a nun for 30 years. I know self-pity when I hear it.” She continued. “And I know that she’s had to leave people, without explanation. I know that after losing you, if how she feels is how they all felt, she would’ve done it differently.”

“Yeah? Well, no one died because of her. Twice, actually.”

“You don’t know everything about her past, Matthew. The guilt she carries could be more than yours.”

“But you do?”

“No.. But I do know your father was famous around here. I saw him fight, saw him go down many times. But he never stayed down.” She pressed before she left.

Matt laid in bed that night and thought of her words, and she was right. About his dad at least. He didn’t stay down. But he did have to wonder about what she said about Y/N, regretting the choices she’d made. If she had known the way people hurt when she left - how he hurt when she left - would she have made different choices?

He couldn’t help but think how different his life would’ve been if she had never left. Or if she had never came in the first place.

A few days passed and Matt found some sense of recovery. He managed to clear some of the blockages in his sinuses, allowing him to find some normalcy with training again. Certain moves still hurt, still caused him to fail, but he knew he was on his way back to what he was before. Back to Daredevil.

On your next day off, you were sitting on your usual bench outside the church with your gym bag tucked beneath your feet. You greeted some of the familiar nuns and patrons with a friendly smile, accepting the gentle handshakes and blessings from the older ladies that you were seeing for the first time since you’ve been back. Sister Maggie came and sat beside you, though her usual demeanor was replaced with a jittery energy.

“Something wrong, Sister?” You asked simply as she sighed and you felt the vibrations tingle against your exposed skin.

“Well, Y/N, I don’t know how to ask you this.” She admitted and you shifted to face her fully. “Would you be.. willing to come downstairs with me today?”

“For what?”

“For a… for a fight.”

“A fight..” You repeated and raised your brows. “Since when does the church have a secret fight club?”

“I’m not thrilled about it but I think you’re the best option.”

“Okay…” You agreed hesitantly. “What’s the catch?”

“Well… Have you ever fought blindfolded? Or with your eyes closed?”

You couldn’t help but laugh, though her scowl made you quiet down.

“You’re serious?” Your brows furrowed.

“Unfortunately.”

“Weirdly enough, I have..”

“Of course you have.” She sighed.

“It was a good training exercise.” You shrugged. “It taught me to understand and hone my gifts rather than depending on what I see, kinda like how Matt used to… Well, anyways, did you want me to do it today?”

“If you’re willing.”

You stared at your hands folded in your lap for a moment, tapping your fingers as you thought. It was an odd request, definitely, and it made no sense to you. But the idea did make your nerves tingle and your muscles twitch. It could be fun to repeat an old training drill, despite the clear hesitation and borderline sacrilegious nature of it. There was something Sister Maggie wasn’t telling you, but really, you didn’t care to know all the details.

“Sure.” You shrugged and stood, kneeling for your bag before following the older nun through the halls and down the stairs.

You paused before a rod-iron gate and you could feel the buzzing of your opponent on the other side. A torn cloth was tied tightly across your eyes as Sister Maggie and Father Lantom exchanged a quick, hushed conversation that you were expected to ignore about what was going to take place. You were lead through the room quietly, guided where to leave your bag.

You knelt and pulled your wraps, wrapping them in place easily after your brace was fitted on as you spoke to Lantom while Maggie talked to whoever you were facing. You tapped your hands into your chalk pouch and patted them together to cover your exposed fingers and the back of your covered knuckles with the fine powder.

“Do you have gloves?” He asked simply, though you could picture the way he was fidgeting.

“I’d rather not, if whoever’s over there doesn’t mind.” You answered, nodding towards the unknown figure behind you. “They don’t have to either, just so it’s fair.”

After a moment of quiet, Lantom answered.

“Alright. He’s not wearing a helmet and there’s a lot of marble statues around so try not to beat on him too bad.”

You smiled slightly and turned your head in his direction.

“Shouldn’t you be warning him about going easy on me, too?” You joked and stood, allowing Lantom to turn you towards your opponent and guide you closer. “Given I’m the one that can’t see.”

“No wonder you two got along.” Maggie sighed, though the statement wasn’t directed at you. “Same sense of humor.”

You reached your hand out and felt another meet yours in a quick tap. Your skin flushed warm as you tuned in to your opponent’s feelings, finding yourself warmed with a general anger and an underlying sadness. A brief flash of loneliness and regret, tucked under a suffocating blanket of self-pity that you swore was going to choke you. You cleared the feeling with a light cough as you rolled your shoulders.

They’d be easy enough to keep track of. Your only issue now would be anticipating their moves, given that you knew nothing of their fighting style. All you could assume was that they were a traditional boxer.

You moved first with hopes of keeping enough of an offense that you wouldn’t need to defend against much, throwing two sharp jabs that connected with their stomach. You were met with a brisk hook to your chin that backed you up a few steps. You chuckled lightly and shifted your jaw, having been hit harder than anticipated.

The brief swell of pride gave away where they moved to so you acted quickly, grabbing their shoulders and yanking them down your knee could slam their stomach. When you felt the hands grab your forearms, you spun your hands around so you could break their hold before throwing an elbow against their nose which earned a loud gasp from Sister Maggie. Your next punch was caught, pushing you to the side. When you turned to face them again, you were met with a quick barrage of jabs that you could block with your arms and there was an obvious tell that your opponent was holding back.

“If you’re gonna hit me, hit me. I’m sure I can take it.” You spat with the unintentional tint of your accent and were hit with a heavy wave of panic.

You seized the hesitation and moved back in, landing hit after hit. Lantom and Maggie both tried to call you off, but neither you nor your opponent stopped. You two were trading blows and dodging shots until you managed to get enough room to swing a moderated roundhouse to the side of his head and he dropped.

Lantom guided you out after that while Maggie tended to the other person, both of them unhappy with the results. He thanked you for coming and insisted you keep it quiet. You joked that you didn’t know who you were up against anyway so your story wouldn’t make much sense if you told it. But even as you were leaving, and you couldn’t remove the blindfold until you were the majority of the way up the stairs, you couldn’t deny the feeling that whoever you were up against… Their emotions were familiar, like the sound of an old song that you still miraculously knew the words to but couldn’t remember who sang it.

Something comfortable. Something that was impossible to truly get out of your head.

That night, you were out with Dex for drinks to try and forget about it.

“Why does it look like you got punched in the face?” He laughed, tapping his mouth in the same spot where you knew yours was busted.

“Cause I did.” You admitted with a small smile that tugged the small wound open. “My gym was doing a little amateur boxing showcase type thing earlier so I jumped in after my lifts.”

“Hope you won.”

“Oh, yeah.” You grinned, the action tugging the split skin open further. “Dropped the last guy nice and easy. After I had my fun, of course.”

“Otherwise, y’know, I’d have to find a new partner.”

“Wow.” Your brows raised and he gave you a playful smirk. “Just like that?”

“Just like that.”

“That’s cold, Dex.”

“C’mon.” He chuckled. “You think I can have a partner that loses amateur boxing?”

“Too bad. Looks like you’re stuck with me. Hattley says she likes the way we work.”

“Guess I’ll have to deal with you then, huh?”

“Can’t rid of me that easy. Just ask anyone who knows me.”

As he was walking you home, you felt that familiarity again. It hooked into your chest and was tugging at you, screaming in the back of your head to get closer. You faked a reason to return to the bar - lying that you had left your phone - and hurried the few blocks to get to them. As you were getting closer, you heard a woman yelling for her dad. Her panic urged your feet to move faster, but you were so distracted by the person - likely subconsciously - calling out to you that you almost didn’t notice the car.

The tires skirted along the asphalt and you had to hop back. You leaned on the hood to see through the bright headlights, and the girl driving was more panicked than you were, with mascara stall rubbing down her puffed up cheeks. It was easy to figure out she was the one you heard so you waved her off and kept moving. But when you got to the source, you faltered, only for a second.

“God forgive me.” He mumbled, hardly enough sound for you to hear.

The defeat in his voice - his familiar voice - drove a stake through your chest that let a chilling loneliness creep out and weigh heavily on your skin. With a shiver, you forced the feeling down and focused on the situation in front of you.

One of the men raised their arms but you were quick to yank the pole from their hand. He turned on you almost instantly but you offered a smile before slamming the pole against his temple, seeing an angry gash split almost immediately. You turned and slammed a foot against the kneeling man’s chest and leaned into it, pinning him to the ground. You threw the pole at the other man, seeing the end collide with his nose before you allowed him to gather his partner and take off.

You blew a loose strand of hair from your face and turned your attention back to the man under your shoe.

You heart nearly stopped when you saw the familiar outfit.

“No…” You said quietly, moving your foot to kneel beside him.

Your fingers reached gingerly for the edge of his mask, but just as you were about to grab it, he slammed his forehead against yours and you fell backwards. You let out a loud string of curses in Russian as you rubbed the place of contact but when you looked back, you found he was gone.

You could’ve sworn, as you got up and made your way back to the apartment, that it was the Man in the Mask.

The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen.

Daredevil.

Matt Murdock.

Despite every logical thought in your head, everytime your brain mulled over the facts. Every night you went to bed alone and woke up the same. Every time you realized you missed him but forgot that it was supposed to hurt, when you realized you still weren’t really letting it hurt.

But if you had to put money on that voice being his, you would’ve.

Would it be better if he really was alive? Maybe whatever was cracking through your still cold core would reignite in your chest. You could regain your full sense of humanity and normalcy, return to the Y/N he knew and loved, assuming enough of her still existed at that point.

Or would it only force that floodgate of pain and anger and grief open? Would you find that the girl he knew, the girl you thought you were, was never real? That it’d be too much and you’d fall back into an uncaring, heartless and ruthless person that not even Dreykov would’ve wanted.

Damn him, for throwing your thoughts into a spiral even in death.

Alleged death, now.

The next morning at work, you wished you had stayed home.

“Y/L/N. You’re with me.” An agent you knew a bit, Ray Nadeem, called as he walked by you. He didn’t stay long so you had to move quickly to catch up.

“Where are we going?” You asked as you finally got to his stride.

“Talk to a guy who won’t give us shit. Hattley wants you to go since SWAT has nothing and you’re new but doesn’t want you going alone in case there’s a conflict of interest.”

“So why you? Why not send me with Dex seeing as he’s my actual partner.”

“Cause my number was up next.” He sighed in annoyance. “And didn’t Dex go out of town on assignment this morning?”

“You’re telling me this couldn’t have waited a day or two till he’s back? If he’s gonna give us nothing, what does it matter?”

When you got in the car, he passed you the thick rubber banded folder. You didn’t need to open it to know what case it was, and all thoughts of Matt and his possible survival were shoved from your head.

You were going to talk to Wilson Fisk.

You gripped the file tightly in one hand while pulling your phone. You shot Marc a quick text about Vanessa’s most recent location, and he sent back a short list of what he had since the last time you two spoke along with a rumor of where she’d be headed next. The drive to the prison was relatively quiet, but you could feel there was something eating at Ray. You thought about asking but you figured he wouldn’t want to talk to you about it so you said nothing. Instead, you cleared your throat to break the looming tension.

You two were escorted in after a brief security clearing and sat alone at a small table while the guards led Fisk in.

“Mr. Fisk, I’m Special Agent Ray Nadeem with the Federal Bureau of Investigation.” Ray introduced simply, flashing his badge before gesturing to you.

“Special Agent Y/N Y/L/N, FBI SWAT.” You nodded.

“The FBI would like your assistance with… Let’s just cut to the part where you tell us to eat shit so we can stop wasting each other’s time.”

“Do you have someone in your life that you love so much, you’d do anything to protect them?” Fisk asked solemnly, his eyes lingering on you before turning to Ray.

“Are you threatening us?” He asked quickly.

“I have made many mistakes.” Fisk nodded. “But I accept the debt I’m paying because of them. A debt-” He turned to you again. “-that certain people ensured I could not neglect.”

“He’s not threatening us, not yet at least.” You sighed and leaned forward, your chest hitting the edge of the table. “He’ll talk.” You twisted your fingers under the table to pull on the gnawing worry that was presenting in Fisk. As the man stared you down, you watched the blue mist of sadness cover his eyes and you were given a flash of a name. Vanessa. “Because there’s something we can offer as incentive.”

“What I cannot accept is that the woman I love should have to pay for them, too. I would do anything to protect her.”

“So what is it you’re saying?” Ray asked carefully.

“He wants us to help Vanessa Marianna, some sort of pardon or acquittal, so she can come back to the States.” You explained, drawing a quick head turn from Ray. “She’s been pretty good about avoiding countries with extradition, I’ll give her that. But she’s passed through a couple in Europe, for the sake of art, I bet.”

“She had nothing to do with this!” Fisk said loudly.

“But she knew, didn’t she?” You instigated.

“I want to make a deal.”

“She knew you were a criminal, I bet.”

“Y/L/N.” Ray tried.

“A liar.”

“All I ask, Agent Y/L/N, in exchange is for someone to protect this woman.”

“Let me be frank here. I don’t trust you. I want you to stay in this prison and rot for the rest of your miserable life. Vanessa can run till the money runs out and I have someone grab her. But it’s not about what I want… Give us good information and maybe we’ll look into it. She’s easy enough for me to find anyway.”

The next morning, you and Ray were tasked with leading a raid on the Albanians. It was a show of faith in Fisk, that he’d given you viable information. But even though you didn’t trust a single word out of Fisk’s mouth, your job was by the book now. You had to look into it.

And as much as you hated to say it, Fisk wasn’t lying. You and Ray led the team through a perfectly successful raid. Your office congratulated you both and you accepted the praise with a smile, even though you didn’t like it. Something about everything felt forced, like you were playing exactly the part you were meant to play and it left a grimy feeling across your skin.

You stayed huddled at your temporary desk most of the day, writing your report of the raid and finding any other trivial task that kept you away from prying eyes.

You had a feeling that the path you were on, and maybe all the FBI officers that end up involved, was going to be a rough one.

“Come with me.” Ray said suddenly, tapping your arm.

“Wha- Again?” You answered as you hurried to your feet. “Where are we going?”

“We’re gonna convince Hattley to give us the Fisk detail.”

“What? No, Ray, I don’t want it.”

“Oh, c’mon.” He groaned as you two reached the SAC’s door. “You and I were the only agents to get anything out of him since he got locked up!”

“You think that matters? You have whatever issues - I’m guessing finances since you’re so desperate - and I’m still new SWAT with a conflict of interest. Besides, in case you couldn’t tell, I don’t like Fisk. I don’t like the way he looks at people. I don’t like the way he talks to people. There is no way in hell I go in there and ask for that.”

“Look, he’s afraid of whatever you know. Right? He believes that you can get to Vanessa, without even trying. If you stay involved, even as backup - just a presence in the room. Y/L/N, I promise you, we can get enough for everyone for years.”

“Wow, okay, so you’re just not listening to the whole ‘conflict of interest’ issue? I worked at the firm that built the case that got him locked up and had a tenement case against him. I want that man to die in jail. I don’t care what he can give or what I can take away. You wanna ask her for it? Go ahead. If she asks my opinion, I’ll back you on it. Just leave me out of it.”

All the while, Matt was sulking in the church basement when Sister Maggie came to check on him.

“Give yourself time to heal or you’re gonna get yourself killed.” She said simply.

“You’re probably right.” Matt said quickly before swallowing the pills.

“Is that what you wanted?”

Instead of answering her question, Matt changed the subject.

“She found me last night… Y/N.”

“Did you talk to her?”

“No, I.. I ran off.”

“Do you wish you had talked to her?”

“I heard her heartbeat.. Seemed like the first time when she didn’t let me hear it but I heard it on my own. Something about her is different…”

“She’s been through a lot since you’ve been gone, not just counting what you did.”

“What happened?” Matt asked softly.

“Maybe if you let her be here, there’d be less of your self-pitying bullshit to throw around. She could knock some sense into you and you could ask her yourself.”

“Why did you become a nun?” He asked instead when he realized she wouldn’t tell him. He’d have to find a chance to ask Y/N instead.

“I heard God’s call.”

“So you feel like being a nun is what you’re meant to be?”

“Yes.” She said with finality. “Very much.”

“What if you couldn’t be anymore? If it were taken from you?”

“Your point being that if we can’t fulfill our calling, we might be better off as worm food?”

“Just answer the question.”

“Okay.. But let me ask you something first. What do you think Y/N’s calling is?”

He sighed heavily as he thought about it. As much as he missed her and he yearned her - as much as his own heart was probably betraying him and calling out for her in a way only she would feel - he didn’t want to talk about her. He didn’t want to be reminded of the pain he’d caused her. The way he essentially abandoned her at Midland Circle.

“Helping people.” He said finally, deciding how he wanted to word it. “Y/N was always meant to help people. Inside the law or outside of it, she knew she could make a difference.”

“I wouldn’t lose faith, Matthew, if I couldn’t fulfill my calling.” She explained with a slight edge to her voice. “I’d find some other purpose.”

“If you can be anything else, it was never really your calling.” Matt countered bitterly. “Just tell me, honestly. If you could no longer be a nun, wouldn’t you grieve?”

“Of course I would.. But this isn’t grief. This is-“

“Just please… Go away.”

“I understand what it’s like to feel lost.” She offered, with a much gentler tone than before. “It happened to me too once, a long time ago when I was still a novitiate. I left the order for a while.”

“Why?”

“I was considering a very different life… It was wonderful and terrifying. I struggled to know which life God wanted me to choose. I prayed. I looked for signs. In the end, I had to do my best to figure it all out.”

“Well, that there is the difference between us. I no longer care what God wants.”

You found your way to the church that night after work. You were texting Dex when Sister Maggie came and sat beside you with a heavy sigh, the sigh of a woman almost too tired to keep pushing. But that, you realized, was something that set Sister Maggie apart from the other nuns you had met.

She was too stubborn to quit on anyone. And maybe that was why you liked talking to her, because it seemed like she wasn’t quitting on you.

“I thought you’d grown bored of this place.” She offered with a bit of amusement, though she was clearly worn down. “Or that little event scared you away.”

“No.” You chuckled. “He got me good, I’ll admit. And it was strange. But it takes more than a cheap shot to get rid of me.”

“We missed you this morning. Some of the older ladies.. They asked about the ‘sweet young girl who sits outside’.”

“That’s what they call me?” You smiled slightly.

“Well, they just don’t know better.”

You couldn’t help but laugh.

“How are you today, Y/N?” She asked honestly.

“It has not been my favorite… Work was interesting. We had this raid and it worked, I’m not complaining about that. It’s what I’m supposed to be doing with this job, y’know? But… The guy that gave us the information, I can’t stand him. Honestly, Sister, I hate him. And I don’t like this feeling of having to be around him again.”

“Do you feel the FBI is your calling?”

“I don’t think I have a calling.” You said honestly. “I’ve tried a lot of different things. The assassin I was raised to be, a mercenary, a lawyer, a vigilante, private security, now FBI… I just wanted to help people who needed it, who were stuck under someone else’s thumb. People like me when I was little, with no one willing to protect them. And I have, in a lot of different ways, but I don’t know about my calling.”

“In some aspects, you remind me of Matthew… When he was younger, of course.”

“In a good way?”

She sighed slightly but offered a fond smile, remembering Matt as a child striking a sentimental cord.

“He was always angry, sometimes lost. He always seemed like he was fighting, be it against himself or the city’s darkness when he got older.” She continued, her eyes falling downward as she toyed with her fingers. “But at his core, he had a good heart, up until his end. And I truly believe you do, too.”

You smiled slightly. Maybe Matt was right after all. Maybe you did have your own light.

“What about you, Sister? What’s wearing you down today?”

“There’s a man who… Well, he’s a great many things. Stubborn, mainly, but also defeated. And I can’t seem to find what sparks a want to continue.”

“Is he alone? No friends or family.”

“He’s not. He has both, or had, I suppose. Friends, even a girlfriend. But he doesn’t want them to know where he is.”

“Sounds lonely..”

She hummed in agreement.

“So why not let him rot in his misery alone? If he’s so determined to isolate himself, maybe you should let him.”

“This one, I’m personally responsible for.”

“How so?”

“He grew up here.” She answered simply but there seemed to be something else there, though you didn’t ask.

“Ah… Well, if he’s really choosing this solitude, I’d say just be there for him, best you can be. He’ll probably keep trying to push and seclude himself but if you really feel you have to help him, just keep pushing back. I know that for me, after Matt, I pushed away the only two friends I thought I had in this city... And I thought that hiding behind Billy and Anvil… I thought those things could fix me, spark something in me, but they didn’t. It just made me feel worse until it got to a point where I didn’t want to feel anything. I didn’t want to die per say, but I didn’t wanna live like that anymore. So I buried everything and threw myself into a fight that didn’t really involve me, then I got stuck with this.” You shook the wrist with the brace.

“And how do you feel now?”

“Somewhere in between, I think. Nothing’s perfect and there’s still this hollowness in my chest but… I can talk about him without feeling like I’m suffocating. I realized that I can’t just shut everything off and expect people to stick around. I care about people and I have to kinda take the good with the bad, even when it almost kills me. When it takes a piece of me and buries it hundreds of feet below the city.”

“We all heal in our own ways.”

“Yeah.. Problem was, I didn’t know how to grieve on my own. When I was a kid, we weren’t allowed to grieve. It was either someone came back or they didn’t. As long as you were still standing, you kept moving. And when Elektra died, I had Matt. But then Matt was gone and I went home every night to no one. I didn’t know what else to do other than distract myself. I’ve made mistakes but I’m trying to do better.”

“All we can do is take things one day at a time..” She nodded before she stood. “I truly do enjoy our little chats. Till next time, Y/N.”

“Good night, Sister.”

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