#who uses it/its pronouns so it just sort of rubs me the wrong way more than I think it should due to personal reasons

[arolesbianism]

I wanna look at more Wx fanart and stuff but like man I can't stop feeling kinda uncomfortable whenever ppl refer to their human design as Woodrow. Like I feel like I might just be being too sensitive, but even with the hc that it used to be their name when they were human it just kinda. Feels like deadnaming to me? I know they're not referring to present Wx so I guess it's not completely deadnaming, but idk it just makes me kind of uncomfortable especially because theyre canonically nonbinary

[descendantofthesparrow]

Cant stop this feeling - Harry Hook x reader- SMUT FIC p1(?)

SMUT FIC-MINORS DNI- All ‘important’ characters are 18+!

warning; slightly dubcon due to drugged sex, only Harry is drugged (he fully aware about what's going on and is consensual (both parties are), but its still drugged sex) basically sex pollen smut but its sex potion, SMUT, unprotected sex (don worry (y/n) is on birth control), rough sex, first times, hella swearing and dirty talk. note, i think this is my best work yet lol

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Chubby!reader-no fem pronouns used but using female anatomy cuz this is fully self-indulgent, im still very much getting used to writing smut so i’ll be sticking with fem biology for a bit longer until i’m fully comfortable writing that, then I’ll start experimenting.

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Thiiiis was not how you were expecting your night to go. It was just supposed to be a normal senior trip for Auradon prep, it really was. With all the vks and aks hanging out on the royal cruise ship. But now here you were, standing right in front of your cabin door, holding it open with one hand as Harry fucking Hook stood on the other side, his face flushed entirely red and he was…god he was panting. “shit-can-can I come in?” Harry said breathlessly, god he sounded so-“yes-yes” you stuttered out, forcefully interrupting your train of thought. You stepped to the side, letting Harry into your cabin which was luckily only inhabited by you.

God his eyes, they were usually the brightest blue but now they resembled storm clouds, dark with…fuck-was he?- “Are you okay?” you asked Harry, once again interrupting your train of thought; not daring to touch him as he leaned against the support beam that sat in the corner of your cabin, his legs shaking and-oh god did he have a fucking- “No” Harry whined pitifully and god the way he sounded just sent shivers down your spine. “some-something's wrong n’ -fuck- everything hurts”

“Hurts?” you asked quietly, if he was hurt, why would he come to you? One of the regular kids of Auradon prep? Why not go to Uma? Or hell to the medical team on the ship? “Oh shit what-what hurts?” Harry looked up at you, his cheeks a nice dark red and he glanced down at his pelvis, glancing away when you followed his gaze. “i-wha?” you flushed bright red; he was hard, and it looked to be painfully so, the fabric of his sleep pants twitching every once in a while. ”what’s happening to you?”

“I dunno” Harry rasped, his entire body shuddering with arousal, heat pulsing through his body so intensely it hurt. “i-I woke up like an’ hour ago in me room, just-well-“ he shrugged, gesturing his hand in a way that made it clear what he meant, hard. He continued to attempt to explain his last hour awake “and well-I tried ta’ rub one off but-fuck nothing worked, it just got worse and hurt more an’ then-then” his face turned bright red, glancing away from you, his nostrils flaring “I-fuck I smelled somethin’ that just-shit made me even harder n’ when I went ta look for tha’ thing it-it” Harry swallowed, harshly, his eyes consumed with lust “it led me ta you”

You?....YOU?! why would a -obviously some sort of -lust spell or something-lead Harry right to you, and why would your scent make him even harder?! What the hell?! It was no secret to anyone who knew you that you had a major crush on the son of hook…maybe much more than a crush. You were snapped out of your thoughts again when Harry practically crumbled to the floor, breathing heavily in short bursts and drool starting to leak down his cheek, his eyes glassy and cheeks burning even brighter.

“loo’k ah dunnae kinn how or why this-whatever thi’s is-led me ta yeh by yer fucking scent or some shit” Harry shuddered again, the cabin somehow was fucking filled with your scent, the shampoo you used, the body wash, the candles set by your bed, the detergent you used for your clothes, your perfume/cologne, everything just set something off in him. something that wanted to ravish you until you couldn’t speak, trapped underneath his body helpless and needy for him; just like he felt for you.

God, he didn’t even know your fucking name. “I wouldn’t fucking dare ta’ ask this of yeh darlin’ if there was any other choice” Harry rasped out, the name he had bestowed upon you made you shiver, making you almost give into the temptation and jump him “but yer the only one that caught this-things-attention, I don’t think this’ll go away normalllly” his word extended as pain thrummed through his body, starting at his pelvis and sparking up his back, god it hurt so fucking bad.

Harry panted as the intense body cramp passed, looking up at you with glassy eyes “Darlin’ please-help meh, I hate ta take-take advantage of yeh fer somethin’ like this but- I won't even bother-hahh” he let out a breathy moan, a drop of drool hitting his knee as he crumbled further into the floor from both pain and intense arousal. “fuck-I won't bother yeh ever again, fuck I’ll get ye something nice ta make up fer this-but-“ he shuddered again, tears of pain at the edge of his eyes “help me, please.”

You stared at him for a long moment, fuck-he thought he was taking advantage of you? Because of the-whatever it was-leading him to you? Fuck more like you were taking advantage of it, being very sexually attracted to the damn handsome pirate. Harry looked right into your eyes, his glassy dark blue eyes practically begging you to help him come. You took a long, deep sigh. You took a single step, then another, then another, until you were standing over Harry's crumpled body; he stared up at you, breath becoming rapid and uneven. God, you smelled so fucking good he wanted to just have you, keep you, devour you.

Fuck.

You kneeled in front of him, tilting your head just so “Just so you know, my name is (y/n)” you whispered, and Harry surged forward, his impossibly soft and plush lips capturing yours “(y/n)” he purred into your mouth as he pulled away for just a moment “God that's feckin' hot.” Fuck-he thought your name was hot-was this a dream? It had to be. But damn it felt so real, his lips felt so real as they pressed a searing kiss to your lips, all the pain and arousal he had been feeling pushed into it, his nimble hand curled around your waist, the other cupping the back of your head.

“Fuck yer so soft, so sweet, god ye smell so good” Harry continued to mutter into your mouth as he pulled away from each breath-stealing kiss, his hands wandering all over your body which was only covered by a t-shirt and sleep pants. You took a shuddering breath when Harry pulled away again, giving you a small chance to regain your senses as Harry’s lips traveled down to your jaw and neck, his teeth scraping against the suddenly sensitive skin.

“Harry” you breathed out, gasping as he suddenly shoved you to the floor, his eyes almost consumed by his dilated pupils, a dangerous smirk on his lips, his slightly sharp teeth peeking out behind his darkened lips "I’m giv’n' you an out righ’ now (y/n)” Harry rasped, leaning down so close to you, you could smell him “one word, all yeh need, and I’ll leave righ’ now.” God his eyes were so pretty, you could look into them forever, get lost in that stormy ocean blue.

Wait what did he say? You weren’t listening. You looked up at him, just blinking. Harry pressed his forehead into yours, his breath ghosting across your lips “last chance before anythin’ happens, and I cannot guarantee I can stop after we start” he almost sounded afraid, he didn’t want to hurt you or do something that you didn’t like. He wasn’t at all experienced in the world of sex but-dammit he knew consent was key and he wanted to give you that.

You just kissed him, and that was all he needed, his hips pressed into yours, and you let out a shocked moan into his lips; feeling his hardened dick throb with each pulse of his heart. God he felt big, thank god you preferred using thicker toys instead of the smaller/normal stuff. You lifted your hips, helping Harry get some relief from the pain as you carefully rubbed your pulsing core against him. Harry let out a shuddering sigh, pulling away from the kiss to look down between your body; his hips already starting to meet yours in a sexual dance “fuck-“ Harry groaned, almost flopping completely on you and wrapping his arms around you, grinding against you. “fuck fuck fuck, dammit you already feel so fucking good, thank you-thank you” he kissed your neck, scraping his teeth against your skin as he dry humped you.

You let out a muttered response to his thanks, rutting back into Harry’s hips before it wasn’t enough for him anymore. He sat up abruptly, grabbing your body with all too much ease (boi lives and works on a pirate ship BOI IS JACKED)and standing on wobbly legs, walking over to your bed and setting you down not all that gently. You bounced as you landed, almost squeaking as Harry’s rough and nimble hands explored your body once again, pulling off your sleep clothes in fumbling and desperate motions. You sat up to help him slide off your shirt, Harry’s eyes catching on the soft curves of your shoulders and waist, he studied the way your stomach smoothed out into your hips and thighs, your skin so soft under his touch.

He leaned down, trailing his lips against your hips and stomach, his tongue licking up your waist until it reached your breast, his mouth latching into your hardened nipple as you shivered from the intensity of it. He whispered your name against your skin, like a prayer to the gods, and you took a deep sudden breath; god you had imagined your name on his lips like that for so long.

This had to be a fucking dream. It had to be, something like this would never happen to you. You decided to just enjoy it, it wouldn’t be the first time you had dreamed up something like this involving Harry. Soon your pants followed your shirt, landing on the floor behind Harry. Harry stood, staring down at you with dark eyes, his chest rising and falling rapidly; you almost matched him with how hard you were breathing. Harry suddenly pulled your underwear off, your soaked core exposed to the cold air of the cabin. “fu-“ you couldn’t even finish your sentence as Harry's hot and wet mouth met your core, his tongue diving into you as his thumb rubbed your clit “Harry!” you cried out, your hand reaching down to grab his soft and curly hair, bucking your hips against his mouth.

God, this felt 1000x times better than any clit toy you had ever used, this was such a good fucking dream. Harry’s tongue left you and you whined, back arching as his fingers were shoved into you, all three dripping with his spit; his mouth replacing his thumb on your clit. You were so aroused there was little to no resistance for his fingers, his long and thin fingers doing wonders in unraveling you. “Harry-Harry” you repeated his name as if you were a broken record, the heat in your face reaching down to your entire body, sighing as Harry pulled his fingers out.

You watched as Harry pulled off his sleep shirt and then pulled off his pants, his boxers going with his clothes, landing right next to yours. And-oh god he was so pretty, it was easy to see he had worked on a pirate ship for years now, he was toned, every bit of him defined and carved by the gods. He stroked his cock and oh my god it was-oh fuck you were going to be sore in the morning. It had to be 7 inches, and god-two inches thick. You swallowed, letting Harry maneuver your body and legs as he lined himself up; rubbing the purple-tipped head of his dick against the folds of your vagina.

He looked into your eyes, and smirked, pushing in with one swift motion, his eyes snapping shut as he felt your hot soft walls envelop him. In an instant, his body cooled down, allowing a moment of relief before it came back twice as hot and painful. He let out a pained/lustful moan and started to fuck you, it was simple at first, a simple pace; the sound of your wet cunt suctioning around Harry’s cock echoing through the cabin.

Your breath was suddenly gone as Harry pressed down into you, your legs tightly wrapped around his waist as his hands pinned your wrists to the bed “fuck fuck fuck” Harry growled, gods he sounded like an animal in heat; his hips hammered into yours, the sound of your cunt being abused getting even louder. You couldn’t even moan, your breath trapped in your chest as Harry fucked you-no, he didn’t fuck you, he used you; right now you were just a cock sleeve for him, something for him to get off with.

A means of relief.

And goddammit if that wasn’t a wet dream of yours.

“Ah-ah-ah!” you panted out, drool leaking down the side of your mouth as Harry fucked you hard, his hips slapping against your thighs and ass, the sound only turning you on even more; and it seemed to be the same for Harry. He bit your shoulder, moaning so loudly you would be afraid someone would hear the two of you if you weren’t so sure this was a dream or so lost in the pleasure.

Your first orgasm came fast and hard, the feeling of Harry’s cock slamming against your g-spot was just too much, heat and fireworks exploding within your body as the coil building in your gut snapped, you clenched hard around Harry, soaking him even further in your cum.

Harry let out a stuttered groan, coming to a full stop as he came, right inside you; filling you up in a way that shouldn't've been anatomically impossible. You gently pulled your hand free from Harry’s grip to feel around below, a sound of confusion making itself known as you felt his cum leaking out from you. God that was some porn shit.

Harry stared down at you, still panting, still in pain. He grunted as another cramp rushed through his body and he pulled out of you when it passed, flipping you over and pulling your hips up; ignoring your sputtering words and sliding back into you, choking on his breath as you clenched down on him; still coming down from your previous high. He practically overtook you with his body, his arms wrapped around your waist and hips as he fucked you like an animal in heat, his hips hammering into you like there was no tomorrow.

You could feel your combined cum dripping down from your core and landing on your intertwined heels, each thrust from Harry pushed out more and more cum, until every bit of your thighs and ankles were soaked with it. You couldn’t even breathe, each thrust taking it out of you as Harry used you again. God-how long would it take for him to lose stamina? How many times would he have to cum to regain his senses?

Fuck this was the best dream ever, 10/10 brain.

Harry moved his hips in the slightest way, sitting up on his knees, and then you were seeing stars. Each thrust knocked you out of consciousness for a split second, ecstasy flooding through your body as your front half went completely limp, panting moans pushing from your chest with each slap of Harry’s hips against your ass.

Soon enough your 2nd orgasm came crashing through you, not as intense as the first but you still came hard, clenching around Harry in such a way that he came again as well, this time he fucked you through it, even more of his cum filling you up. Again it-should’ve been impossible with how much there was; but-dream logic you supposed.

You gently pushed Harry away, your hand on his chest; forcing him to pull out. His eyes were still dark, still completely bound by whatever it was in his body “i-I need a moment” you panted, turning to lay on your side, Harry's cum leaking out and down your thigh; pooling on your once clean sheets. Harry shook his head, some of the light returning to his eyes, and he nodded. Kneeling on the bed next to you and taking your chin, tilting your head up to look you in the eyes “Are you okay?” he asked, voice strained as if he was struggling to control himself, and you nodded.

“yeah, just-came twice in less than five minutes, need a moment to rest down there” you muttered, gasping as Harry moved you to rest against your pillows, head sitting right in front of his still hard cock, the tip no longer purple but an angry red. Damn how many times was he going to have to cum to flush his system?!? But you knew this was a way to help him while taking a small break, you opened your mouth, letting your tongue drop out with it.

Harry slid his cock into your mouth, his head tipping back at the feeling of you, he slowly started to thrust into your mouth, being much less rough with it than your cunt. You sucked around him, resting your hands on his hard thighs, bobbing your head in time with his thrusts. “god, fuck yer mouth is just as good as yer fuckin’ cunt” Harry groaned, finally able to speak through the cloud of arousal. “so fucking wet n hot” he grabbed your head, not pushing you into his hips but simply holding you.

God you could taste yourself on him, and his cum dripped off at the base of his shaft, and you could feel your cunt pulse with want. G’damn, what a wonderful dream, and thank god it was, the soreness you would feel in the morning if it wasn’t. You felt his cock hit the back of your throat and you gagged slightly, tears at the edge of your eyes, he pulled back slightly, staring down at you in slight worry before the-whatever it was-took effect again and he thrust into your mouth, still not rough, but just using your mouth as his new cock-sleeve.

You sucked hard once and Harry groaned, leaning over your body to brace himself on the wall behind your bed, his cum flooding into your mouth, you didn’t even have time to swallow it, it spilled out the sides of your mouth and dripped down your chin. Harry, realizing you were going to choke on his cum, pulled out. You gasped as more cum hit your face and Harry closed his eyes, clenching his jaw so hard it hurt.

You noted it wasn’t as much cum as inside your cunt, maybe that meant he was flushing whatever it was out of his system. As you examined your chest, which was now covered in Harry’s cum; Harry started down at you, panting still. Fuck you looked so hot covered in him, it was all over your face and chest, still leaking out of your cunt and covering your thighs.

Harry rolled his neck, feeling another wave of heat overcoming his body, much less intense this time, but still hotter than anything he had ever felt. He had to get this shit out, and luckily, he had control of himself this time. He gently lifted your legs to where he could slide below them, your thighs resting on top of his; his cock resting in front of your cunt, which was all too ready to accept him again.

He looked into your eyes, leaning forward and kissing you, tasting himself on your lips and tongue. He slid in, groaning at the feeling of your tight cunt, god you were still so fucking soft and warm, still so tight around him after 2 rounds of hard fucking.

You moaned softly as Harry rocked into you, he was finally in control of his own body again, no longer clouded by an unending wave of pain and arousal that he was practically forced to fuck you so hard you couldn’t breathe. It was still a solid pace that sent shivers up your spine with each thrust but now you could actually breathe and respond to Harry’s motions. “ah~ Harry~” you moaned, your head hitting the bed frame as Harry gripped your hips, staring down at the space where the two of you connected.

He whispered out your name, once again as if it was a prayer to the gods; and you melted, sinking further into Harry and allowing him to go even deeper.

This continued on for another three rounds, each gentler than the last until both you and Harry were laying on your sides, his cock gently rocking into you, the tip brushing against your g-spot as his fingers played with your clit, his mouth was on your ears and neck, leaving dark and bruising marks that had accumulated throughout the night. You both came for the last time, a slow blooming pleasure that burned into a searing flame that turned to smoke.

Harry came inside you one last time, it finally being a normal human amount of cum. He gently pulled out, his cock finally soft; he was exhausted, panting and aching everywhere. But he knew he would not be able to compare to how you would feel in the morning. He had never had sex before but some of the crew and Uma had-and god the way they sometimes complained about how they couldn’t walk the next day or even just an hour afterward.

So he forced himself to stand up, walking to your connected bathroom on wobbly legs and grabbing a few soft towels and then finding a change of sheets. He got you cleaned up with warm damp towels, then used a cold one to cool down your body, resting a fresh cool one on your soon-to-be aching vagina. He cleaned up his several messes, got dressed, replaced the sheets, and rinsed out the sheets so the cleaning crew wasn’t traumatized the next day.

He gently took your body from the plush couch that sat in front of the tv and set you back on your bed, licking his lips nervously as he glanced between you and the door. He couldn’t just leave you, not after what you did for him. but he didn’t want to just-sleep next to you? Well he did, but…fuck. He settled for the pullout bed that was hidden in the couch, rubbing his face as he came to terms with what he had done for…god the last two hours?

He looked at the clock, sucking on his teeth. Nearly two hours of the night were spent fucking you. He fell back on the pull-out bed, staring up at the ceiling before falling asleep; a small smile on his lips as he recalled what you tasted like.

-

You woke up hours later, the sun already high in the sky, so very fucking sore and aching everywhere. It hurt to breathe. You sat up sluggishly, wincing at the pulse between your legs. You lifted the blanket to check what was wrong, only to see…you were in a new pair of sleep shorts and a plain t-shirt…these weren’t the clothes you put on before you fell asleep, and these sheets were…clean, like brand new just changed clean.

Oh-oh shit- you whipped your head around, looking for any sign of the handsome pirate. Only to find none, minus the pile of damp towels resting in the sink. “no way last night was real” you muttered, wincing again, your voice was just gone. Nothing but a raspy tone of a well fucked throat. Oh shit, oh shit oh shit oh shit!

You whipped around again as someone knocked on your door, in the exact same pattern as last night. You stood up quickly, yelping as your legs immediately gave out and you hit the floor, almost crying from the pain shooting up your legs and hips “(y/n)!” Harry called out, sounding very worried “Are ye okay?! That sounded like a nasty fall!” you just grumbled; face completely flushed from embarrassment. From both falling and the realization that what happened last night wasn’t a dream. You crawled over to the door and unlatched it, scooting back on your butt as Harry stepped through, a plate full of food in one hand and a small bottle in the other. “Oh shit, (y/n)” Harry said in a rush, setting down the two, no three-a water bottle that he had held in his armpit-, items on the nightstand and picking you up, carrying you back over to the bed and setting you down “fuck-I’m so sorry (y/n), I-i-“ Harry stuttered, and you could see panicked tears at the corners of his eyes. He hurt you, fuck he had hurt you-he didn’t want that-he had no control over how hard he was but god dammit!

“Hey” your raspy voice broke through his whirlwind of thoughts, and he looked back up at you, his lips dropping open at your soft smile and kind eyes “it was great, I liked it, and you didn’t have control; also that was five rounds, im bound to be sore after that even if you weren’t rough.” your voice got quieter with each word and Harry quickly grabbed the water bottle and the small bottle he had gotten from Uma. He handed both to you and you gulped down the water, the icy coolness feeling wonderful on your torn throat.

You looked down at the pills as you recapped the bottle, tilting your head at them, you had never seen them before, and they were unlabeled. “Got those from Uma” Harry said, grabbing the bottle again and opening it for you, dropping one into his hand and holding it out to you. “tis’ like a healing potion but-a pill, Uma made it for ‘er own” Harry made a vague gesture between the two of you then out the door “adventures” you smiled, that was so sweet of Harry to get you something to make sure you would be comfortable. You took the pill with a swig of water, and you sighed in relief; the pill immediately took effect.

All the aches washed away, and the soreness in your hips and core disappearing, it all felt like a nice refreshing dip in the pool on a hot day “Better?” Harry asked, his hand on your knee, and you nodded; patting his hand.

“Much,” you said, voice restored. Harry grinned, his eyes that wonderful bright ocean blue once more. He patted your knee, your hand bouncing with his hand at the gesture and he stood, walking over to the damp rags in the bathroom sink and stuffing them into a cloth bag, setting them by the door then turning back to you “so-yer…ye liked that?” Harry asked, as If you liking how he fucked you was a surprise. And you nodded, shrugging as you did.

“yeah, um-kinda was a fantasy of mine to be used like that so, now I know I’m very into it” you chuckled, drinking some more of the water as Harry turned bright red “where’d you learn how to it by the way? You’re a damn good fuck” Harry pursed his lips and shrugged.

“Never learned anything’, tha’ was me first time” you spit out the water, Harry leaping back in surprise, his eyes almost as wide as yours “you-me-what?!” you yelled, Harry’s hands suddenly covering your mouth to shut you up. “shhhh” Harry shushed you, pulling his hands away when your voice died out behind them “no, no-I've never-I, that…I was a virgin till last night” Harry muttered, almost embarrassed as he glanced away, then back at you “is-is tha’ a bad thing?”

You shook your head, no, being a virgin wasn’t a bad thing, nor was it to have lots of sex. You just thought-with how he looked-how he acted-how all the boy attracted isle kids talked about him “i-I just-assumed, I mean, with how some of the isle kids talk about you-I thought you were like-…I assumed you were one to get around, not that that's bad either, just…” you shrugged, unable to find any other way to say it.

Harry chuckled, rubbing the back of his head “Aye…uh, yeah. Never had it, wasn’t exactly-interested honestly, well-I have been interested before but I never partook cause it could’ve been used ‘gainst me n’ stuff so…never did it.” Harry started at you, licking his lips nervously “it-it wasn’t how I imagined losing me virginity, I always kinda wanted ta’ give it ta’ someone I love n trust but…yeah, tha’ happen’d” Harry shrugged, glancing off to the side and suddenly you felt horrible, but…it wasn’t your fault, was it? You didn’t make Harry inconsolably horny and need relief from you, you just happened to be who he was attracted to under that…whatever it was. But you felt pissed for him, whoever had-done that to him-took away his choice, and gods if you ever got your hands on them.

“you did a damn good job for a first time” you said, hoping to give him a bit of comfort, and it worked; he smiled, that pretty smile that had your knees buckling. “like-hot damn, you must have some damn good instincts for sex” Harry shrugged and laughed, not really knowing what had been going on to make him like that, he was aware of every part of it, but after you gave him your consent, it was like he was put on the back burner, something much more…animalistic taking the front seat.

Harry stood; arms crossed. “so uh” he started, suddenly feeling very awkward “um…thank yeh, fer helpin’ me through that” you smiled and nodded, about to speak but Harry continued “whenever ye want me ta get ye somethin’ nice or-whatever, jus uh, hit me up…n…yeah-thank yeh” Harry smiled at you one last time, and then left the room. leaving you alone with the magic healing pills, a plate of food, and an empty water bottle.

You guessed that was it then, a dream come true that ended all too abruptly the next day. You sighed, rubbing your face. You hadn’t expected anything after, honestly, and he did promise to never bug you again. But…god you did kinda hope for something more to come out of this, even if it was just an awkward friendship.

But you guessed you and Harry Hook wouldn’t interact again, not until you asked for the nice thing he promised. That was fine, you told yourself, he was his own person, and just because he asked you to let him use you, he was in no way obligated to become close to you.

Looks like it was time to go back to the toys. It was a damn shame, Harry put even those toys to shame. You brushed away the thought, it was over and done now, Harry wouldn’t be knocking at your door ever again to ask you to have sex with him. Not unless whatever it was came back around and attracted him to you again.

Pffft, ch-eah right. Like that would ever happen.

-later that night-

God dammit again?!

-end of part 1(?)-

i dont have a taglist for smut fics (i do have a harry permtaglist) but i have no clue who and who isnt comfortable being tagged for smut-soooo

@sephiralorange​ 

[battle-of-alberta]

Hi and welcome to this thing that's sort of a prequel to the timeline I'm working on. The working title is Alberta Story, but as you can see I kind of changed directions midway through as I thought about it more, I figured if I was getting frustrated then surely Ed was also getting frustrated with it so I turned it over to him to express that, haha. I wrote the first half of this last fall and stewed on it for about a year and decided, screw it, I don't know where I'm going with this but I will slap on a few more panels and figure it out as I go.

This might be the closest thing to a reboot of the BoAB main storyline for a while. I wanted to do something that gave a cursory outline of Canadian / Albertan history for people who are new to it, but of course it runs the risk of repeating every narrative Canada / Alberta have about themselves and that's quite frustrating, to be honest! Particularly when you are trying to write characters who lived through a great chunk of it.

I was trying to think about where to "start" the story of Alberta, particularly after reading Mavericks: An Incorrigible History of Alberta. A lot of the tongue in cheek ahistorical assigning of Albertan-ness to even protozoic life rubbed me the wrong way even though I found it an interesting narrative, so I wanted to illustrate the difficulty of "beginning".

Additionally: I really find it frustrating in the Hetalia fandom when people kind of take Himaruya's approach and suggest the colonized personifications almost predate colonization somehow, like they were "always there", or the approach that they are direct descendants of some ambiguous ancestral "Native America" that mysteriously no longer exists. At the same time, I sort of understand how it also happens with the narratives we construct ourselves, in textbooks and museums, that have long illustrated "pre-history" (Indigenous history) as opposed to "history" (the "Real" history of Euro-Canadians). It's a cultural underpinning that needs to be undone.

I don't make any ambitious claims to produce real, decolonizing work, I realize there's this big gap in this universe I'm building that acknowledges municipal personifications and only vaguely gestures at the idea of others and there's a myriad of issues with that, but it's a place that I as a euro-canadian myself am starting with and I hope to continue learning and growing from here.

"Here" is summed up as: isn't it crazy that a company that was just gifted 1/12th of the surface of the Earth not only predates the idea of this country and its cities but also still exists and is just a place you end up in at the mall now?

More detailed explanation of each panel follows.

Diver's Claw: Several stories in different First Nations cosmologies reference the Creator or another figure making a flood that covered the whole earth, where a survivor (Wisakedjek in Cree/Ojibwe stories, Na'pi in Blackfoot, etc) sends down a succession of animals to the bottom of the waters to retrieve a piece of the old earth, which they can then use to create anew.

Mounds of Earth: When the Northwest Mounted Police were sent out west from Canada after purchasing the territories (including Alberta) from the Hudson's Bay Company in 1870, they marked the border along what would become the 49th parallel between Canada and the United States with piles of dirt.

Descent from the Stars: This is supposed to be a depiction of Manitou Asiniy, also known as the Manitou Stone or Creator's Stone, a meteorite that has spiritual significance to many Indigenous peoples. As I write this, he (as a sacred being, he is referred to with these pronouns) is currently in the custody of the Royal Alberta Museum which has recently agreed to return him to the site where he was originally taken from near Hardisty in 1866. Currently, the gallery is open for worship and ceremony until it is time to repatriate him.

Bodies liquified in coral: this is NOT a scientific illustration, haha. The idea is that a lot of Albertan identity comes from about 400 million years ago in the Devonian period. At the time, a big chunk of "Alberta" was covered by ocean. The organisms lived, died, and over time became crushed by sediment layered over them. Coral has a lot of holes perfect for holding this sludge and fossilizes nicely here, and it is this layer of Earth's long history that speculators are looking for when drilling for oil.

Lips to a book: Alberta joined Confederation on September 1st, 1905, which our last premier tried to commemorate with a holiday that no one showed up to. Back at the turn of the century however, it was a massive party attended by Prime Minister Wilfrid Laurier and the Governor General, a position in Canadian parliament that represents the King or Queen of England. Govenor General Grey (his grandpa was the Earl Grey the tea was named for, I believe) was the one who kissed the bible at this inauguration.

Prince: The prince here is Prince Rupert, who Rupert's Land was named for, and the king in question is Charles II of England (yes, the Restoration and Great Fire of London party guy from the Stuart era). Rupert's Land centred on Hudson's Bay and made up over 40% of what is now considered Canada. The Hudson's Bay Company was granted the charter to all this territory - if they found the Northwest Passage while they were at the business of acquiring beaver or otter pelts, it was certainly a bonus.

The rest is fairly self explanatory, I hope. Like I said, I felt like I was falling into the trap of the same old story of pioneers and exploration that has been absolutely done to death in Canadian history, and I didn't have anything particularly new to say about it that would maintain this storybook level of accessibility so I just. Stopped! Shifted gears! haha. Still, I think the fur trade is a very important piece to the puzzle that often gets either a bit overhyped or glossed over in favour of railroads in Canadian history and almost entirely ignored and forgotten in American history, and it makes sense to start there, particularly for Ed who has a lot of Complicated Feelings about it.

Enjoy! Maybe one day I will figure out part two.

[puhpandas]

plural anon from earlier figured id offer some info since you mentioned wanting to learn! obvious preface that im not an expert and this is just from my experience and what ive learned from others :) everyones experiences vary and im definitely not the be all end all lol

also this may get long, its a bit of an infodump! ^^;

i figured first id explain some of the stuff i said. i refer to myself as “plural” mostly, and said “plural system” as system is more often used from what ive seen, and plural offers more context to me. its honestly up to the person what they want to be referred to with. plural, plural system, plural person, just system, a collective, a group, there are probably more but those are the main ones i can think of!

also i should probably clarify, i said “pseudo-plurality” referring to the in-universe rab and vanny, as it isnt really confirmed whether that is an act put on by glitchtrap/will/mimic, or vanessa, or something, or if its actually a separate person. (i like to think of them as headmates/alters, but given that they are villains some folks dont want to which is also fair! it was very common to use the “evil alter” trope in horror so it can definitely put people on edge and rub them the wrong way. i like to explore and see this concept explored, but obviously with the headmates being actual people, not just boiled down to “ooo evil alter” for scare factor. i read a fic once where vanny was formed as a response to williams invasion and manipulation to protect vanessa, which is way more interesting to me than the evil alter trope!)

also, i should warn with the previous paragraph, if you do ever explore the idea of rab or vanny being opposition to gregory and vanessa, some people might get upset even if you are doing it well. unfortunately its the internet and theres a lot of bad rep out there and a lot of mean people. im sure you know the drill tho.

more general thing, some systems prefer to say headmates, some prefer alters, some prefer other words, some just refer to them as their friends or as the others. its dependent on the person! and the “main” person is called the host usually, or the core, typically the core ive seen used for systems who consider themselves to be “facets” of that core. my underdtanding of facets is that theyre more like branches off the host, rather than fully separate (ive seen some people use “admin” or other similar words too tho lol). the host is often said to be the “original” person, in the case of gregory and vanessa, those two would be the hosts, and rab and vanny would be alters/headmates/etc. but hosts dont HAVE to be the original person, it can change. i dont know the exacts of what makes a host a host, but from my understanding its basically a role someone has. and not every system uses roles or falls into them, for example id argue that the daycare attendant has “roles” in their system (moon takes care of naptime, sun takes care of playtime) but lacks an actual designated host, possibly because they dont really feel a need for one and just work(ed) as a unit.

on the topic of the daycare attendant, some plural folk will use a collective name or a “singletsona” (singlet just referring to a nonplural individual) of sorts. the daycare attendant has a collective name, which is, yk, “the daycare attendant” as it can refer to any/all of them. and rab sort of used gregory as a singletsona as opposed to telling his friends hes rab (sort of. he did use it as a pen name). in the same vein, there are also global pronouns, first person pronouns, and collective pronouns (these are the best ways i can simplify them lol).

global pronouns - for us anyways - are pronouns everybody can be referred to with. for us, our main global pronoun is it/its.

first person pronouns is just, how the person talks when referring to themself/themselves. i/me, us/we, and a mix of both. some systems only use plural first person pronouns when referring to the system/multiple folks in the system, some just always use we/us, some use i/me regardless, as usually it depends on the system and some stuff i havent even gone into. and for collective pronouns, its similar to the global pronoun thing, except its just the system as one entity’s pronouns. often it is the plural or singular they/them, we personally like plural and singular it/its for our system. its kinda like the bodys pronouns, which is why it can be singular to me. i hope thst made sense!

oh before i cut myself off i should probably mention switching. i dont switch out really so i cant provide much here but some systems experience amnesia/time loss/etc, some dont, but like i said i cant give you much because i dont switch out. im sure someone else can help with that ^^;

this ask is already very very long, so i wont go into other stuff like monoconscious, polyconscious, co-conscious, co-fronting, being frontstuck, sticky front, headspace/inner world, system origins(which will inevitably include system discourse thing unfortunately), headmate sources, source memories, introjects…… theres a Lot and i dont think i would even have enough characters to send an ask with everything i know

i hope this wasnt way overdoing it, i learned a lot from prior to and after i learned i was plural because i enjoy researching topics like this, and sharing the information i know is fun!

also you said you werent feeling well, hope you feel better soon!

thank you for the info anon! it helped a lot to understand more and was very insightful! I appreciate all you put into this!!

[rexxdjarin]

Captain's Log: Chapter 10

Exfiltrate

Series Summary: The galaxy is in turmoil. The Republic has fallen, giving rise to the sinister reign of the totalitarian Empire, led by the insidious Emperor Palpatine. The millions of valiant clone troopers of the former Grand Army of the Republic are now blindly sworn, against their will, to protect a regime they once sought to destroy. After being saved from a terrible fate by his former-Jedi ally and close friend, Ahsoka Tano, seasoned veteran CT-7567 Clone Captain Rex remains loyal to the pillars of Democracy, freedom and truth that shaped the former Galactic Republic. We follow him now struggling to deal with the personal aftereffects of survival and finding his place in the galaxy alongside the only person he has left. You. The love of his life. [previous] [next] part of Captain's Log series post on ao3

Pairing: Captain Rex x Fem!Reader (she/her pronouns used) Word Count: 14k (I know I'm sorry lol) Series Rating: Explicit (18+ only, Minors DO NOT INTERACT) Chapter Summary: A quick in and out becomes a lot more than Rex signed up for and with a lot more drama. Surprises come at every turn and choices have to be made to ensure the survival of their crew and any of its future members. Chapter Warnings: Mature Themes, Language, Violence and Interrogation Tactics, Political References and Propaganda Mentions, References to Canon Plot, Political References, Canon Typical Violence, References to Canon Deaths

I always hated these Commander Grays.

Formal, starchy, rigid and stiff.

Nothing like the plastoid that was molded for me. That I welded, patched and rewelded probably thousands of times over the years. I could breathe, move, stretch in the old white and blue.

At least I could once.

Back when there was pride in being who I was. Back when the Republic made me feel honored to have been born as one of them. Back when being a clone was synonymous with being the Republic’s heroes.

Before the fall of everything and everyone I cared for. Everything I fought for.

Before plastoid felt like prison.

Now, the fabric felt sort of freeing in a way. I could breathe in it more than I thought I’d be able to, but I still felt the gnawing at the back of my mind that this uniform wasn't mine. I didn’t sweat in it, didn’t smell the cinders of exploding clankers between the duraweave, and didn’t see the stains from bathing it in the blood of the brothers that died in my arms.

It was a funny thing, feeling both proud of what I did in that armor, who I was in that armor and guilty to be wearing it. As if it wasn’t the uniform that marked me as just another destroyer of the life the galaxy once knew.

Gregor felt it too. Though maybe not as strongly as I did.

As far as I knew, Gregor spent very little time fighting directly beside jedi. He may have seen or met with the occasional one from time to time. But it wasn't the same.

Because my armor wasn’t just to protect me. It was to identify my allegiance to my jedi.

Blue for the General’s saber color.

And if you had the General around you almost always had General Kenobi too. I was almost as much his Captain as I was Anakin’s.

And then came Ahsoka too. My Commander, the only one I was okay with giving that title to, my, well not-really-so-little, sister.

Most clones were lucky to have even one jedi General.

I had three.

The Commander grays didn’t suit me because I wasn’t the Commander that strategized from a cruiser above the planet’s surface.

I was the Captain that dirtied, scuffed, scratched my armor fighting beside them.

None of the shinies on this ship would ever know what that was like. The privilege it was to know them all like I did.

So this piece of shit uniform rubbed and chafed uncomfortably because it was wrong. All of it.

But a disguise is a disguise. It would all be worth it if we could find Cody.

“Place feels cold. Way colder than I remember.” Gregor scoffed from ahead of me, hands behind his back to do his best Commander impression as he walked. Knowing him for even a few weeks, it didn’t suit him at all. He was unique, adaptable, thought differently…so much like Fives with every chuckle it almost hurt.

“Space is cold, Gregor. Did living in that dust bowl for that long really make you forget that?” I asked, my eyes bouncing past every blast door to see if I might recognize a brother inside.

“Nah, medics said the explosion threw my nervous system a bit out of whack. Memory loss, nervous giggle, poor circulation. I’m kind of a mess, but I lived. That’s what it’s all about, right? This whole thing you’re doing with her?” He asked, turning to me and quirking an eyebrow at me exactly how Jesse used to.

I felt a pang in my chest that I’d rather have kept shoved down as deep as I could. It was bad enough to see them whenever I looked at my own face, but even worse to see their exact personality traits present in a brother they’d never even known.

I could feel my brows furrowing as I got lost deeper in thought, Gregor shrugging apologetically in response. “Yeah… something like that.” I grumbled, looking off in the distance at an open hangar at the end of the hall. A group of brothers were amassing before a small podium. Strange. Not usually Tarkin’s style.

Gregor held out his arm, keeping us both from moving toward the men at the end of the hall “I know you see them in me, Rex. I know.”

I turned, expecting to glare at him but found myself biting down on my bottom lip to keep the emotions at bay. Now was not the time. We were pushing our luck as it is.

“I’ll tell you all about them some other time. She’ll want to be there too.” I said, so clearly seeing the fire ignite in her eyes as she passionately talked about her love for each and every one of my brothers, my family.

“Okay. And I definitely want to know what you ever did to deserve her.” Gregor giggled, motioning for us to keep walking.

The men at the end of the hallway were all wearing grays too. Whatever meeting or briefing this was required the highest of formalities. There were more than just clones in the hangar. Naval officers and higher up governors or something filled the room too. Very strange. I couldn’t remember ever having a meeting like this that wasn’t with Jedi present. I suppose maybe regional governors had taken their place. Though, we clones know they never could measure up.

“Gregor, when we get in there…look around for Cody. You remember the scar right? Only way we’ll be able to identify him now.” I whispered as we entered the old ship hangar, lining up against the wall with some other lower level, newly promoted clone commanders.

A high level governor ascended the podium, quieting the clones in the room instantly. He started explaining a training regiment that every accepted clone commander in the room was to be entered into for the next phase of indoctrination into the Empire. Something called Project War Mantle. The longer they spoke and discussed training, the more time I had to study the face of every brother in the room.

Once upon a time, the Jedi encouraged us to differentiate ourselves. To be our own version of ourselves. Being unique was important to the jedi, who valued our lives and our importance as individuals. That meant we were free to change our look however we pleased. Haircuts, tattoos, colors…in some cases unique mods or defects. Whatever we liked really.

That’s not at all what the men in the room looked like now. Everyone was uniform. Commander grays, standing shoulder to shoulder in even lines, no painted armor, and absolutely no clones with any unique markings or tattoos among us. Injuries or modifications didn’t seem to be an issue as several men had prosthetics and were still chosen to be among the elite group standing here.

But no Cody. No matter how closely I stared, none of them were Cody. I saw the faces of men I thought I recognized vaguely, scars or healed cuts in places I could remember some of my men having. I even swore I saw someone who reminded me a lot of Dogma among the crowd, but the lack of face tattoo meant it couldn’t be him. Unless they’d figured out how to wipe those off during reconditioning.

Gregor and I communicated through a series of morse code taps to our thighs. Yet neither of us signaled to the other that we’d seen Cody. The whole meeting was nefarious as hell and when it finally ended, the men broke off into organized groups toward what I assume were barracks on board. The only people left in the room were clones talking to their superior Governors and one lone brother by a separate crate on the hangar outskirts, carefully hiding one half of his face in shadow.

I motioned for Gregor to follow me in that direction but was stopped in my tracks by another sterilized version of a brother I didn’t know. “Don’t you have somewhere to be, Trooper?” He asked, stepping forward. His eyes were completely glazed over and lifeless, like he had just been switched on and sent directly into duty without any thought behind him.

“Yes, Sir. Our orders are to wait for a transport here, Sir.” I stated dryly, trying my best to fit the lingo they were using. Gregor nodded and stood up straight, going along with the act.

“A transport? You two are supposed to join the others to meet CT-9904 in the training center.” The trooper said, still suspicious of us clearly not following direct orders.

The clone behind us was slowly slinking away from us down the corridor and out of our sight. Whoever it was didn’t seem to want to be found either. Great. We just became someone else's escape plan.

“We’ll head that way then. When the transport arrives, they’ll straighten this out.” Gregor intervened, removing his hat and nodding. The Trooper dismissed us with a curt nod and rolled his eyes, walking off toward the hallway we just came from.

“What the fuck is going on here?” I hissed quietly, following Gregor as we headed toward the training facility. “And why is Crosshair training clones for the Empire?”

“Crosshair?” Gregor questioned, “The last member of Clone Force 99, right?”

“Yeah.” I scowled, “I uh- don’t think he likes me very much. Punched him square in the face once.” I rolled my eyes as Gregor grimaced. We stopped at a window that overlooked the preparation room for training. All the troopers from the hangar were lined up awaiting their turn to practice their new techniques. If I squint hard enough I could just make out Crosshair from the far side of the room, overlooking recruits as they did their run-throughs. “That’s him. Over there. And since his former squad is on the run and he’s here…safe to assume he’s loyal to the Empire.”

“Something doesn’t feel right here. Come on, we should head back. See if we can find that clone who was watching us before. Maybe that was Cody. Couldn’t really get a good look at his face.” Gregor said, turning around smack into another clone. Only this one wasn’t wearing Commander gray’s, but instead the familiar armor of an ARF trooper. Red markings hastily scraped clean from the plastoid. This wasn’t just any brother. This was one of Fox’s guys, working security on the base. The absolute last person we would want to run into. I think his name was Hound once.

“And just where do you two think you’re going?” He asked, the grizzly growl deepening his tone as he backed us into the wall. “Those uniforms don’t fit either of you…show me your CT numbers now.” He lurched forward, grabbing my wrist and sliding down the fabric clearly looking for something. I ripped it away from him, two heartbeats away from hauling off and punching him with it. “No CT labels on your wrists where they should be. You two are defectors…oh you’re both in deep shit.”

Without a moment’s hesitation, Gregor charged forward and took Hound down, leaving me with enough time to take off running back toward the hangar bay. Gregor was right on my heels, the sound of Hound calling for reinforcements echoing behind him. In seconds, the empty hangar was filled with brainwashed troopers, firing at the two of us like we were an army of commando droids.

“Looks like we were wrong about finding Cody.” I remarked sarcastically, drawing my blasters and turning to fire on the run. Gregor hummed his agreement and slammed a few crates down to block their path at least a little bit.

“Forget finding him. We’re probably about to join him.” He joked nervously, watching as doors opened seconds after passing by them. Security Troopers poured out of every opening and all we could do is hope we could make it back to the Intel Center and out the drainage system fast enough.

“Think we can take them? I’ve survived worse odds...”

“Was that with or without Jedi?” Gregor quipped, pointing out the obvious.

He was right. If we were going to make it out alive, we’d need a jedi or a miracle. These days, those were the same thing. Nothing, not even the Force itself, could’ve prepared me for who appeared before us behind the next blast door.

“Hey, Rex’ika. Guess I need to save your ass again, don’t I?” Wolffe grunted with an amused and almost irritated huff. As was his way. The old grump. He always found himself barging in to clean up my messes, even when I didn’t need him to or didn’t want him to see. He thought General Skywalker was a chaotic mess and rolled his eyes at the unconventional tactics he and I were always employing.

At times his criticism was welcome. He helped me grow throughout my time at our training facility on Kamino and, as I rose up through the ranks on the battlefield, ensured I’d be placed with only the best of Jedi. Wolffe thought that meant I’d be placed with Cody under General Kenobi, but instead I was placed with General Skywalker.

He didn’t realize it at the time, but it was actually the perfect match. Skywalker was a challenge and, like I always did, I adapted and I overcame. It made me a better soldier because of it. A better leader. I learned more under the General than I ever learned on Kamino and I didn’t need any of my Commander brother’s helping hands anymore. I couldn’t even recall the last time Wolffe and I had a mission together.

But I was never more grateful to see him than I was right now.

“I’m not going to say no.” I joked, dodging red blaster bolts from my former Coruscant Guard brothers as they whizzed past our heads. Wolffe looked worse for wear. More so than usual. Usually his battle hardened, rough exterior was part of his appeal. Maker- it drove every woman on Coruscant crazy enough. But he looked in rough shape, even for him.

His beloved gray armor was trashed, scraped and meticulous paint job chipped and wearing away. Very unlike my most creative and diligent, almost to the point of insanity, brother. Wounds on his face were barely tended to, if at all, and the bags under his eyes made it seem like he hadn’t slept well in months. Though it was easy to see why. None of us slept well anymore. Maybe we never had.

“Commander Wolffe, right?” Gregor asked, tossing a haphazard bucket he found and slamming it directly into the face of one of our brothers. He turned toward where Wolffe stood shoulder to shoulder with me and howled loudly before fading off into his signature laugh. “The 104th. I’ve heard all about you, we’ve never formally met. I- uh- died, technically.”

Wolffe rolled his eyes at the mock howling and sighed in annoyance. “You’re Gregor. You’re one of Cody’s. Can tell by your maneuvers.” Wolffe shot blue stun blasts at every brother in the wave of men the Imperials were sending our way. His dual blasters popped with ferocity, not even kicking back in his palms he was so quick. Wolffe was an excellent shot before he lost his eye, but even better after it. He worked twice as hard and earned twice the kills. No Commander in the GAR could match the Wolfpack’s numbers, but especially not Wolffe’s individually.

I ducked back behind the corner of hallway we were escaping down, the detention block peaking into view again. “How much time we got?” I asked, turning over my shoulder at Gregor backing in just past the blast doors.

“Minute. Maybe less. Wolffe’s got most of ‘em down.” He replied, using one hand to fire stun blasts and the other to strip off the stolen uniform he no longer needed.

“Closing blast doors behind us. That’ll buy us some time to swing by the Intelligence Center, grab her and get us all out of here.” I explained quickly, tearing the covering off the panel on the wall and hardwiring it to begin closing. Wolffe nodded, pocketing his blasters and stepping over the doors beginning to cycle shut. With all three of us inside, I shot the panel, frying it closed completely. “That’ll hold them back for a bit. Let’s go.”

“Sorry, who else do we need to grab?” Wolffe asked, as we all broke into a sprint down the hallway toward the detention block. I remained silent, hoping it would come off as being lost in thought rather than avoiding his question. Wolffe was way too smart for that. “Rex?” He pressed again.

“Uhm- I don’t think you’re going to like my answer.” I scoffed, remembering the uncomfortable little altercation she and Wolffe had the first time they met at 79s.

Wolffe smirked, staring at me suspiciously. “Do not tell me you brought a civilian into an Imperial prison compound.” He grabbed my shoulder, stopping us in our tracks. Gregor laughed out loud from ahead of us.

“She’s way too smart to be just any old civie, Wolffe.” Gregor slowed up, moving into step with us as we made our way around the corner to the Intel Center room.

Wolffe closed his eyes and huffed, “She..?” he raised a hand to his forehead and rubbed his temple slowly. “That girl you were seeing? You brought her here? What is wrong with you?” He opened his eyes, realizing she must’ve been where I ran to after the Tribunal crash. “Has working with Skywalker really made you that reckless?”

I smirked and shook my head, holding back any retort I wanted to make in her defense. “I told you you wouldn’t like my answer, vod.” I shouldered past him, standing there staring at me like I was defective. The hallway outside the door was suspiciously quiet, even the droids that were skittering in and out before weren’t making noise anymore.

“Entire Republic fell to pieces and you’re running around with your girlfriend.” Wolffe accused, hints of anger starting to brew in his tone. I only half paid attention because as I opened the door to the Intel Center, it was completely and totally empty. I closed my eyes, my mind racing trying to remember if we had decided on a meeting point for our exit plan.

“Wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for her..” I shot back, walking into the room and frantically looking around for any sign that she’d hidden some place. Panic started rising in my chest the longer I looked around with no sign of her. “Gregor…did we tell her to meet us at the entry to the sewage system?”

“Uhhh I don’t think so. Why? Think she went back there?” He responded, catching my drift and slowly realizing that I was steps away from full out panicking. Gregor rested his hand on my shoulder in an attempt to soothe me, clicking on his comm link. “Hey angel, you there?”

Nothing. Nothing but static and comm silence.

Wolffe sighed, bumping past my shoulder and toward the holotable in the center of the room. “Pull up holorecordings from the last hour.” He gruffed, quickly tapping in clearance codes he had written on the inner wrist of his armor. “Even if she’s the most capable civie in the outer rim, she’s not safe here. This was risky, even for you, Rex.”

The holotable pulled up security footage from the last hour or so in the room. We rewound it back as far as we could go and the room was empty. Until five minutes in, when there she was, extracting files onto a disc and checking over her shoulder every so often.

“Who is this? What’s your position?” A Brother’s voice rang out ominously over the comm channel.

Fuck.

I felt my stomach drop as the holorecording showed none other than Fox stunning her and slinging her over his shoulder out of the room. My fists clenched angrily and I kicked the holotable with all my might. She was in trouble. Hell we all were. I drew my blasters instantly, screwing on my helmet and tearing off down the corridor toward the detention block.

Wolffe and Gregor’s voices faded as they called out after me. Didn’t matter what they were saying. I had to go get her. Maker knows what that chip had done to Fox. What it could make him do to her. I shuddered as I ran, the blood pounding in my ears and adrenaline flooding my muscles with the strength I needed to jump into action. The way I’d done thousands of times before. The way I was bred for. To fight until my last dying breath for the good of the innocent. And if she wasn’t the perfect example of innocence and pure good then I don’t know what was.

Guns ablazing, I called for her, frantically checking the prison log for a new entry. Nothing new had been logged in since yesterday and with no response coming from any of the cells down the hall, I started to feel a sickening pit in my chest like I never had before.

Fear. Real, painful, agonizing fear. Something we were bred to never feel. Never.

Suddenly, cell doors from the center of the room slid open and three troopers stepped out after it. The familiar red paint of the former Coruscant Guard covered their original phase II armor, unchanged like the rest of the men who were chasing us around this base. I stepped forward, both my blasters raised and straining to stop my wrists from shaking.

“Get him.” A deep voice commanded from inside the cell. Three of my brothers charged at me, blasters drawn and footsteps all in perfect line with each other. Just like they were trained to do with the Separatists. Treating me like I was their enemy instead of their flesh and blood, their family, their brother. The chip rendered them mindless, heartless, soulless, charging toward me like machines instead of the men I knew they were underneath it all.

I shot stun blasts at them, but each time I fired they ducked out of my way. They knew every move I’d make before I even decided to make it. We were of the same mind always, chip or not. The three brothers whose names I didn’t recognize darted toward me, knocking into me roughly and pressing me into the guards center console behind me. My blasters flew out of my hands, kicked aside by the last man to reach us. I whirled around to the one on my right and punched him hard in the stomach. Then spun around to roundhouse kick down the brother to my left.

The last brother stood directly in front of my path, blaster drawn and pointed directly at me. Point blank range. “Freeze, traitor. Or I’ll blast you.” Wolffe and Gregor peaked around the corner, waiting back to make sure they weren’t seen and could come rescue me when the time was right. I put my hands up, crossing them behind my head and scowling at him.

“So that’s the kind of fighting they teach you at the Imperial Academy? I know Cadets trained better than that.” I scoffed, waiting for him to cuff me and toss me in the now open cell down the hall.

“You’re supposed to be dead, Little Brother.” The deep voice from before called again. The man in front of me cocked his helmet to the side and kneed me in the stomach, walking around me as I doubled over and securing my wrists with binders.

Finally, the voice revealed itself.

Out of the open cell doors walked what remained of Commander Fox. The oldest brother I knew. Completely and utterly lost to the chip. Slowly, he made his way down the hall until he stood before me. He loomed over me, shaking his head and tutting softly. I scowled menacingly at the black visor in his helmet, trying desperately to look into where I knew my brother’s eyes were.

“Such a waste…you had so much potential. The best Captain in the GAR. Thought I heard you made Commander…now look how far the mighty have fallen. Faking your own death? Betraying the Empire? Abandoning your Brothers?” He shoved me backwards, sending me falling into the guards console behind me.

I growled, “I served the Republic. The Republic your Empire used our brothers, our flesh and blood, to destroy. Using chips in our heads to command that we do whatever they tell us, to kill our Generals, our friends, to slaughter innocent lifeforms. Stealing our free will and treating us like we’re expendable. I ran to save my brothers, not leave them to die as unnamed, numbered slaves. You’re being used, controlled, even now. You’re a pawn. We all were. Fives told me before the order. And he was right. Your Emperor used you to kill Fives and hide the truth, just like he used us to execute the Jedi. You need my help, Fox. This isn’t you.”

“That’s what your little cyar’ika said too. Silly me, I thought you did this out of selfishness, out of loyalty to her. No. You did this because you didn’t comply with the order. You don’t support our Empire. You’re even more of a traitor than I thought.”

“Where is she, Fox? What have you done?”

“She’s fine. Just a little sleepy. Torture does that to a person…”

I lunged at him, trying desperately to pull out of my restraints to knock him out. One of his men held me back, pressing down on my shoulder to subdue me. “Fox…I know you. She knows you. You’re her closest friend. This isn’t you. You would never do this to her unless you were being forced.”

Fox laughed cruelly, turning his back and walking toward the cell. “Get him up. Let’s show him his little sunshine.” He turned to look over his shoulder at me struggling to get away while his men lifted me to my feet, forcing me to walk forward. Fox took me by the cuffed wrists and shoved me in front of him, his blaster to my back as we walked inside the cell.

She was there.

Slumped in the corner of the cell, her eyes closed and body shivering from cold and maker knows what else. Bruises littered her neck and arms from where the Torture Droid probed her to inject the drugs needed to extract info from her. She looked so hurt and tired and anger boiled up inside me stronger than I’d ever felt it.

“She wasn’t very cooperative. Stubborn, compassionate, headstrong…she suits you.” Fox said coldly, as if it were an insult. The hissing of his helmet being removed filled the air. The filtered sound of his voice through the vocoder changed to the smooth baritone that was nearly identical to mine. “We couldn’t get her to talk, but we might be able to get you to…” He smirked, the usual light that glimmered in his eyes completely gone and replaced by hollow blackness that rivaled the lonely emptiness of the deepest parts of unknown space.

“No use, Brother. I removed my chip. You can’t order me around. And I’d rather die than tell your Master anything.” I snarled, spitting as the bitter word master fell from my lips, desperate to make sure the taste of it on my tongue didn’t linger.

Fox’s eyes narrowed, the familiar dilating pupils and facial twitches of the chip activating reminding me that this wasn’t my brother. This wasn’t coming from his heart or his mind. As much as I wanted to lash out and pummel him to a pulp for what he was saying, I couldn’t bring myself to hurt him the way I’d need to to get away. I’d killed too many of my brothers to escape already.

“It’s not you I would torture to get you to talk, vod’ika.” Fox said with a sick smile, signaling with his hand for the probe droid in the corner to fire up again. I gulped, unable to do anything but watch as it hovered the needle closer to where she laid on the platform in the corner of the cell. “The less you cooperate, the higher the dosage she’ll get.”

My fists curled up on my thighs shook as I attempted to snap my wrists free of the binders. No matter what I tried, I couldn’t do it. Everything in me, all my training, taught me not to risk thousands of lives to save one. If I gave up what I knew, what Bail was planning to do, all the info about the chip, Ahsoka’s survival, it would be a death sentence for them and every life they ever touched in order to save them from the Empire. But what good did making the morally right choices ever do for me? For my brothers? Endless sacrifice and loss, lives cut short only for it not to matter in the end anyway. Wasn’t saving the lives of those suffering right in front of you more important? What good is fighting for a cause when you have to sacrifice lives, any lives, to do it?

All I could think about is what the General would do. Anakin, sometimes against his better judgment, would rather risk his own life to save others than let any other innocent person suffer. Anakin, who would give himself up if it meant sparing the lives of everyone else around him, including us clones. Even Ahsoka, though reckless, inexperienced and antsy the entire time I’d known her, made a choice not to inflict harm on any of our men when it wasn’t their fault they were after us. I’d have to give up what I knew. To spare the love of my life any of the suffering I’d always known, even if it meant I would take her place.

“Fine. Fine. You win. I’ll…tell you what you need to know, Fox. But you have to let her go.” I sighed, looking down at my knees instead of into the chilling depths of what should be my brother's eyes. Praying on every star above that Wolffe and Gregor had a plan to get us out of this. All I had to do was come up with lies convincing enough to buy us some time.

Fox signaled the droid to hold and stepped toward me, placing the dead weight of his hands on my shoulders. “Weak. That’s why you never made Commander.” He snarled, shoving me back on my haunches. I glared at him in annoyance. As if ranks and fucking titles matter anymore.

“Are you going to ask me any questions or…”

“How’d you remove your chip?”

“Did some research on them with Kix after we lost Fives. Was an easy enough procedure for a droid to do on any ship's medbay.”

“That violates Imperial law. You’re property of the Empire and it is against the law to tamper with your biological programming.”

“My programming? Like I’m some kind of fucking machine? Fox…listen to yourself. You’re sick. You aren’t making sense.”

“Quiet, traitor. Next question. Was your Jedi executed by you or any of your men in accordance with Order 66?”

“I wasn’t with my Jedi. General Skywalker was on special assignment to rescue the Chancellor at the time I was deployed.”

“We both know that’s not the Jedi you were assigned to on Mandalore. What happened to Commander Tano?”

I gulped, knowing this was the most important lie of all. I’d let Fox torture me to death before I gave up what happened to her, what she’d done for me. I owed her that much.

“Commander Tano was killed by Maul when he escaped our custody on the Tribunal.”

“Is that so? I wasn’t aware you had captured him.”

“She did. We were en route to Coruscant for his trial when the Order activated. I watched him kill her myself. He’s the reason our ship crashed. I tried pursuing him, but flying isn’t my strong suit.”

Fox hummed, his eyes darting around my face looking for any signs of lying. He wouldn’t find it because what I said was true, from a certain point of view. He arched an eyebrow, “You were always a terrible liar, Little Brother. But I’d know if you were feeding me bad intel…you’re lucky we have been tracking Maul’s movements for several rotations. Your description matches his known movements and your updated info will be very helpful in our continued search for him.”

“Great, one group of murderers going after another. Justice has been served.” I remarked sarcastically, a grumble emanating from my chest as I deepened my scowl up at him.

Fox hummed in agreement and stepped back, assessing the intel I’d just given him on a datapad he pulled from his pack. His eyes twitched as he typed, and I watched him wince in pain, the reaction far more familiar for Fox than his behavior before. He blinked a few times, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand. The chip was active, but not working perfectly. I remembered how resisting it felt for me on the cruiser and he was showing signs of trying desperately to fight it like I had.

He was so close to cracking. Something had to trigger him. Jog his memory. Break through the chips programmed order to reach the real Fox somewhere inside.

“Ori’vod…do you remember what Alpha said to you about me? When the Kaminoans were deciding what to do with your defective little blonde brother? Do you remember, Fox?” I asked slowly and quietly, in the softest whisper I could muster.

Fox dropped his datapad and stood in place, his knees shaking and his bucket practically vibrating as the memory struck him deep.

Alpha taught Fox’s Commander class personally, teaching them the Mandalorian leadership and fighting skills he learned from Prime to allow them to take charge immediately. He would remember our oldest altered brother better than almost all of us, Fox being amongst one of his personal favorites.

Fox’s hands rose to his bucket and he turned back toward me, the angry scowl he’d worn only moments ago giving way to painful, tear drenched anguish that lifted his expressive brows in surprise and finally shook him to his core enough to loosen the chips hold on him.

“Mandokarla. Th-that’s what Alpha said. When you were born…all that blonde hair..the Kaminoans thought the genetic material was weakening. That there was something wrong with you.” Fox blinked away a few more twitches, biting his lip as the pain of resistance swelled behind his forehead. The way I remembered experiencing when I gave Ahsoka the few bits of intel about Fives I could before the chip sucked me under its spell.

I nodded, quieting my breathing to disguise my heart racing faster and faster in excitement. “And…what did I do? To prove to them that I was just as strong as the rest of you?” I asked, watching as his breathing steadied.

He smirked to himself, as if remembering an event he’d watched unfold with his own two eyes. “Me and the Commander class boys were about 4. They brought us in to teach us about the importance of conformity and following protocol. You and a few others with supposed defects were lined up and undergoing tests. Making sure you had the proper reaction to stimuli, at the right stage in development of your motor skills, all that. Well Alpha made us watch as all of you got picked up and tested. When he got to you, he grabbed you by your ankle to see if you knew what to do. How to right yourself or get out of it. Most of the others grabbed for the floor or sides of their chairs. But not you. You lifted yourself up, curled upwards and bit down on Alpha’s finger.”

My eyes went wide and I chuckled, thinking long and hard to see if I could remember this instance from my own eyes. I only ever recalled the story being told to me.

Fox laughed, his real laugh, the warm and amused chuckle of the sarcastic older brother I’d missed so much. “He dropped you and you stood up, staring at him with that determined scowl you’ve had on ever since. And he told the Kaminoans to let you train. Because you were Mandokarla. You had aggression, guts, tenacity and spirit. The right stuff. Instructed all of us in our Commander class to watch out for you after that. To pay special attention to the brother whose hair was so light because he had been touched by the stars.”

“Alpha honored me with my jaig eyes sigil himself. You remember, Fox. We’re family. Same heart, same blood. I want to help you. Saving you is what Fives died for. Please. Let us get you out of here.“ I begged, looking up at my brother fighting his toughest battle internally.

Fox sighed and pressed the heels of his palms against his eyes, as if he could physically stop the involuntary actions the chip was forcing to course through him. “I don’t-I don’t want to hurt you, Rex. But I-I..I can’t fight it. It hurts too much to resist.” He exhaled, bringing his hands to rest on my wrists bound in my lap.

His fingers ran over the signal and the binders released, falling onto the cell floor beneath me. My eyes shot up into his, hoping I could signal how grateful I was to him without giving any Imperials cause for alarm. “Fox, thank you. Now let me help you.” I reached forward but he swatted my hands away.

“Don’t touch me! I’ll hurt you. She- she tried that. Just go. Take her and go. She needs you.” He whimpered, falling to his knees before me and holding himself off the floor with an arm extended in front of him. “Go Rex! Get out! Hu-hurry.”

I backed away from him, his muscles seizing and grunting through pain as he struggled to hold himself back enough to let me escape. I scrambled to the back corner of the cell on my hands and knees and scooped her into my arms. She was still out cold, but the shaking slowly subsided as she absorbed my body heat. “Mesh’la? You’ve gotta wake up. We gotta go.” I whispered, kissing her forehead to feel if she was running a fever at all. She didn’t move even the slightest bit, the dosage of drugs she was given probably enough to knock her out cold for hours.

“She…won’t…won’t wake for another…hour. We didn’t have enough. We didn’t account for the…”

“Fox?” Wolffe’s voice rang out inside the cell. Both Fox and I spun around to see Wolffe and Gregor standing side by side with weapons drawn. “Fox…it’s me…it’s Wolffe.”

“St-stay back. Stay back! Wolffe, I thought you were dead…they said you were killed.” Fox stammered, the tears of resistance, lies and pain overflowing as his closest friend and brother stood before him at his most desperate hour.

“Takes a lot to fucking kill me, Fox.” Wolffe remarked, lifting his blaster to his ear and shrugging. He stepped down into the cell, Gregor guarding his back, as he reached his hand out to calm his brother. “Been looking for you a long time. Rex, Gregor and I…we want to help you get out of here.”

“No! Wolffe…you all- fuck- you don’t know what you’re all dealing with. He’ll…kill you…k-kill you all.”

“Who? Who, Fox? The Chancellor?” Wolffe asked, his desperate glance flicking between Fox begging on the ground to be left alone and me standing in the corner with my mesh’la unconscious and in desperate need of a medic.

“No! R-Rampart. T-Tarkin. They’re going to decide what to do with the rest of us…little sunshine’s got all the intel. On the holodisc. She’s just full of secrets today.” He laughed quickly, before gasping as a searing pain made him collapse on the floor.

“Fox!” Wolffe and I yelled, Wolffe jumping forward first to turn him over as he seized and writhed on the cell floor. The sound of his screams of pain made my heart hurt. At the piercing sound of Fox’s pain, she groaned softly, turning her head into my bicep and gripping at my chest for safety. I stared at her laying peacefully in my arms and wondered what Fox meant by secrets.

What did she know? What did she find out here?

I curled her into my chest and stepped closer to where Gregor stood waiting to cover me at the cell door. Wolffe knelt by our brother's side, trying his best to hold him steady as the screams subsided and his panting slowed.

“Wolffe…my brother…don’t let me hurt you. Go. Please.” Fox begged, gripping Wolffe’s shoulder and pulling him close. “Protect them.” He whispered, shaking in Wolffe’s grasp one final time before he quieted completely.

I felt tears I did not want to shed in front of Wolffe begin to pool up and I slid toward the door, just feet from Gregor. Fox laid there eerily quiet, probably fainted from the exhaustion of resisting the chip for even just a few minutes.

“Wolffe,” Gregor said matter of factly, “we need to go.”

Wolffe whipped around and scowled angrily at us. “I’m not going anywhere without him. I’ll carry him if I have to.” A brutal hardness glazed over his eyes. I knew that look. I felt that pain too. When I had to make that very same choice. Save Ahsoka and survive or stay with my brothers and die. I knew everything in Wolffe was screaming at him to stay by his closest brother no matter what was coming for him.

But that’s not what Fox wanted. That’s not what I wanted. That’s not what made sense. Not with everything on the line and with the truth so close to getting out with us.

“Wolffe, we won't make it. She has to get help and we have intel to pass along. I can’t disobey this order. I don’t want to fail the Republic twice.” I said, glancing down at her unconscious in my arms. “Please.”

Before Wolffe could answer, Fox groaned, shaking his head and blinking away the pain hazing his vision. Wolffe whirled around and reached out his hand, “C’mon, Fox. We gotta go.”

Fox drew his head back in disgust, that same foreign, sickly grin drawing a crooked line across his face.

“You’re not going anywhere. Traitors.”

He dove forward, taking out Wolffe at the ankles and punching him so hard in the face I swore Wolffe’s cybernetic eye spun around in place.

“Fox! No-” Wolffe howled, hauling off and wailing on his brother's ribs with both his fists. Fox and Wolffe were a pretty even match, but Fox’s history of mysterious injuries meant he had a slight disadvantage to the brute size of Wolffe. Only Wolffe didn’t want to hurt him. The tears streaming down his cheeks were evidence of that. “Snap. Out. Of. It. Fox.” He grunted, shoving Fox off of him and across the room.

Fox went sprawling backwards, catching himself against the cell wall and drawing his blaster. “I don’t…answer to that…anymore. I am CC-1010. Don’t resist or I’ll have to take you in.” He was sputtering, like his mouth was fighting his brain to get the words out. Wolffe backed up into where I stood holding her in my arms and braced himself for a fight.

He turned slowly, gritting his teeth and muttering, “Go. I’ll buy you time to get away. Get her out of here.”

Gregor stood back, looking at him in disbelief, his eyes nervously flicking down the hall toward where the sound of boots on metal floor grates were rushing toward us. “Wolffe, we can’t leave you.”

“I didn’t come here for you. I came here to rescue my brother.”

“You are. You can help Gregor and I. You can help her. Her intel could help save thousands of our brothers. But we can’t do that if you don’t leave with us right now.”

The haze over Fox’s mind was finally clearing and he steadied himself enough to reach for his comm and call for back up, sending our coordinates and a high alert out to the entire ship. “Intruders in the Detention Block. 3 Rogue Clones and a captured female dignitary. They’re armed and on the run. Shoot to neutralize and bring them in for questioning.”

Wolffe growled lowly in anger and leaped at his brother, moving to wrap his arms around his stomach. But this time Fox was ready. He slid out of Wolffe’s way and turned around to kick him square in the back, an ugly, piercing howl leaving Wolffe at the pain of the blow.

I whipped around to Gregor, my eyes wild and desperate. Without a word spoken, he understood. He stretched out his arms and took her from me, cradling her close and taking off running for the exit we initially planned. If I couldn’t get through to Wolffe, if we couldn’t get out, at least she’d be safe.

Fox and Wolffe exchanged severe blow after blow, both of them a mess of deep bruises and blood spatters. The sound of Fox’s reinforcements and blaster fire filled the air and I knew we were out of time. Whatever it was that was nagging on Wolffe was clouding his judgment and I couldn’t let that be his downfall.

I had to make a choice, join the fight with Wolffe to try and save Fox or drag us both out of here before Fox’s reinforcements came to kill us all. There was no scenario in which all three of us made it out of here alive. Unfortunately, Fox’s hostility toward us combined with the strength of his back up made the decision for me.

As Fox hauled back to strike another blow to Wolffe’s face, I jumped between them, taking the full hit of the blow so Wolffe didn’t have to. His eyes went wide as I huffed out all the air in my chest in response. With the wind knocked out of me, I scrambled to push Wolffe away toward the door. Wolffe took one look at Fox and I behind him and winced, the reality of the situation setting in. We had to go. He knew it now.

I dove forward, chasing after Wolffe in a flurry of limbs moving faster than they’d ever carried us as we took off in a sprint toward the exit. We didn’t look back, even though I could feel the familiar guilt weighing down inside telling me to do the opposite. 

Fox’s reinforcements turned the corner and started firing at us from way down the hall, Fox yelling out our identification numbers to notify his squad who they were tracking. We dodged the rings of blaster fire whizzing past us at every step until finally we made it to the drainage system exit point again.

Gregor had already made it down the tube, standing at the exit point with her still out cold in his arms. The rest of the run to our ship's hiding place was silent and solemn. Even though we saved one brother, it didn’t feel like we had made any difference. There was no rescue or solution that came without sacrifice. I should’ve gotten used to that by now. But when Wolffe entered our ship and locked himself in the bunk room with her, I knew there was no way we could ever shake that numbing feeling that we failed. We failed the Jedi, we failed the Republic, we failed the galaxy, we failed our brothers.

It wasn’t our fault. It was set up this way from the very start.

But that didn’t make it hurt any less.

–

The soft sound of engines whirring was the first sound I heard when I finally came to. I turned over, keeping my eyes slammed shut because I was too afraid of opening them and finding I was still being held hostage in that cell.

But I couldn’t be in the cell anymore. The boys came and found me. Or did I hallucinate that?

Under my fingers, I felt the familiar touch of our worn blankets and slowly began to inhale the stale musky scent of my boyfriend all around me. I was definitely laying in our bunk on our ship, a soft pillow under my head and a blanket tucked around me to keep me warm until I awoke. 

Slowly, I blinked my weary eyes open to the comforting darkness of our room, only the blinking lights of our ship's inner workings glowing to softly illuminate the otherwise pitch black space.

That’s when I heard it. It was very, very quiet. Nearly inaudible. But it came every few minutes or so. Accompanied by hitching breaths.

The heartbreaking sniffling sounds of someone desperately trying to keep their crying silent.

It couldn’t be Rex. He would’ve been lying next to me. And by now, I think Rex was as cried out as he could possibly be.

Gregor? What could he possibly be so upset about? I was okay. We survived.

I rubbed my eyes to try to accelerate the time it took for them to adjust in the darkness. Swinging my legs over the side of my bunk, I reached down slowly until I felt the familiar bite of cold metal under my bare toes. I steadied myself on my feet, remembering that I was walking for two now and couldn’t let the waning levels of drugs in my system make me fall.

I took a few deep breaths and blinked until I could just make out a form in the corner of the room, just steps from the blast doors. A big, big shadow sitting with his head in his hands and his knees curled up close to his chest. I stepped closer, squinting to see if I could make out any distinctive details, but it was hard in the dark.

At the sound of my single footstep, his head shot up and the unmistakable reflection of a white prosthetic eye now staring in my direction told me exactly who this was. Someone I never in a million years expected to be here and sobbing on our bunk room floor.

“Wolffe?” I whispered, a quiet and concerned waver coating the croaking sound of my voice I hadn’t used in probably hours.

He moved to wipe his face with his sleeve to prevent me from seeing his tears as I got closer. “Yeah. I doubt you’re happy to see me here.” He said, his deep, gruff voice booming through a space that had enjoyed silence for too long. He sniffled, tipping his head back to rest on the ship's hull and averting his gaze, like he thought I wouldn’t want to look at him at all, much less like this.

I sank to my knees beside his hulking frame and rested my hand gently on his bicep. “I’m just happy you’re alive.” I watched his scowl soften, both his eyes blinking away doubts at his realization that there were people out there who still cared about him.

“Thought you hated me.” He said, gruffly whispering as he looked up at the ceiling in the darkness. “You don’t still think I’m some kind of chauvinist asshole?” He blinked, both of his eyes shifted upwards as if trying to swallow down his tears as much as possible.

I sighed, because at one point, I did think that. Stupidly. Ignorantly. But until I met Rex all those years ago, I didn’t realize just how pointedly different every clone was to the average man. I wrongfully assumed that just because Wolffe slept around that he somehow didn’t value or care about the women he met. That’s how men usually are. It wasn’t until I talked to a few of the women he knew that I realized how wrong I was.

The women who knew Wolffe had nothing but the highest opinion of him. He spent time getting to know them, talking to them about their lives, watching out for them if he could. He never promised much of anything relationship wise, on account of his job and well everything that was expected of him. But he cared about them all a lot more than the average man would. And now that I knew so many clones intimately I felt so guilty for ever thinking he’d be anything less than the same kind of man Rex was.

Never one to swallow my pride or be quick to admit I was wrong, I vowed that if I ever had the time to talk to Wolffe again, really talk to him, I’d apologize. He deserved that much. Now here he was, shut away in the only bedroom on the ship and falling apart like Rex had when I’d found him after the order. I guess now was that time. He needed someone.

I scooted closer to him and smiled shyly, “I still think you’re an asshole, Wolffe. But no more of an asshole than I am for wrongfully thinking so little of you. I’m sorry. I don’t hate you. I promise.”

He turned to face me slowly, the slightest hint of a smirk growing just beneath the facial hair that he’d been letting grow around his jaw. “Thanks. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I lost another one of my brothers. Especially not Rex. Seems like he’s all I’ve got left now.” His face fell again, the pain evident in the wide eyed fear in his eyes.

“What do you mean, Wolffe? Rex and I…Gregor too…we’ve been trying to save your brothers. Whatever way we can. We want to help. You’ve got so many who need you.”

“No…I- not after what I’ve done.” He sniffled, pulling away to rest his chin on his crossed arms.

“C’mon, Wolffe, you can talk to Rex. He’s your little brother. He looks up to you.”

“He might not now.” Tears fell as he tried to stop his lip from quivering. “Don’t want them to see me like this.” His brown eye was red from crying, both his under eyes puffy from how upset he must’ve been for hours on end. Who knows how long he was in here.

I reached forward and placed my hand on his shoulder, leaning to rest my head on him. “What happened, Wolffe? You can tell me. I’m here to listen.”

His breathing calmed at my comforting hand on him, supporting him like he needed. He turned to look down at me, puzzled at kindness he’d never expected to receive from me. “Well darlin’…when the order happened, the 104th and I weren’t with General Plo. My Jedi General. Plo was like a father to me. To all of us, especially the Wolfpack. Nothing in a million lightyears could ever make me hurt him or any other Jedi. Not after all we’d gone through together.”

He closed his eyes and shuddered, swallowing down a lump in his throat and letting more chillingly silent tears fall. “But when the order happened…hell broke loose. Our cruiser was about ready for takeoff, heading back to Cato Neimoidia to meet up with Plo and the 442nd. The holo of the Emperor opened on my holocomm and on everyone else’s around me. Sinker and Boost stopped making sense, the radio silence on our comms exploding with questions about where the Jedi were, when we’d meet up with the General, plans and discussions of how we’d execute the order when we arrived. None of it made any sense to me. Because whatever it was about that order that had kicked in for everyone else just…didn’t for me. Whatever was forcing them to follow it…it wasn’t happening to me. I didn’t- didn’t understand.”

I thought long and hard, trying to calculate what it was about Wolffe that would’ve made the reaction different for him than everyone else. I sat up and moved around to kneel in front of him. He glared at me like I was nuts right as I reached for his face, his quick reflexes swatting me away.

“What the blazes are you doing…?” His temper rising faster than usual in his heightened emotional state.

“Wolffe…let me look…” I practically begged, lifting my hand to rest on his cheek and looking over the deep scar over his right eye. He relented and looked around awkwardly as I stared at where his cybernetic eye was placed. “How deep was this cut? Your eye…might’ve saved your life.”

He narrowed his gaze, pulling his face from my hand. “Deep enough. Fucking thing oughta do me some good for once. Think it’s why it didn’t work on me?” He questioned, his brows furrowing together as he ran his own fingertips along the length of the scar.

“It’s connected to your brain. It might’ve damaged your chip when it was added. That or the initial strike did.”

“Bet that would’ve pissed Ventress off.” He grumbled, sitting back and extending his legs out in front of me. “Doesn’t change much though. Because all my men were affected anyway. They rushed to our ships and deployed as soon as we arrived to Cato Neimoidia. Charged right through me. I-I couldn’t stop so many of them. So I did the only thing I could do, got in a fighter myself and raced to the surface. The fighting was over anyway. The General had already won. They were ending their attack run when…” He clutched his chest and closed his eyes, practically shaking as he recalled every detail like he’d experienced it moments ago.

“It’s ok Wolffe…take your time…” I urged, kneeling beside him and cleaning blood off his cheek with my sleeve. He opened his eyes again and stared through me, his face riddled with anguish and screwing up as he began to sob.

“Jag led the 442nd. He was Plo’s wingman on this mission. I watched as he shot his fighter. It spiraled out of control and crashed on the planet’s surface. Some part of me, some insane, stupid part of me thought he could survive. He could survive anything. He was a Jedi. I blasted my ship into overdrive, screaming to the surface while Sinker and Boost cheered over the comm channels with the rest of the 442nd. Plo’s fighter was a fireball when I landed. I jumped out of my ship and toward his, burnt the fuck out of my hand ripping apart the cockpit to pull him out.”

I grabbed his hand and slowly slid off his gloves, finding his palms had bubbled over where he gripped the transparisteel starshield. It was haphazardly patched over with bandages not nearly sufficient enough to heal the burns and I whimpered at the idea of him suffering through this for months. “You’ll have to let us fix this. We have bacta-”

“No. I want to live with it. I want it to scar. So I never forget how failing him feels.” He hissed, ripping his glove from my hand and tossing it to the back wall where he’d left his helmet too. “When I pulled him from his ship, he was still breathing. Shallow, his breathing mask cracking so I knew he didn’t have long. But I thought if I could just carry him to my ship he might live. He grabbed my wrist and he looked up at me. And he said…” Wolffe broke, silently sobbing like he had before and inhaling the same shaky shallow breaths he was describing from Plo.

“He said ‘Son. Let me go. Your life matters more than my survival.’ And I told him the same thing he told me when he saved what was left of my battalion in deep space once. ‘Not to me.’ But he grabbed my hand and motioned toward my ship. The last thing he said to me was ‘Go, my son. Run.’ and he died. I held his hand as he took his last breath in my arms and I just sat there.”

He sobbed, staring off into the dark corner where his helmet sat and focused on his breathing. I let my hands wander down his bicep and I leaned down to hug him as close as he’d let me. Resting my head on his shoulder pauldron, I muttered, “Wolffe. It wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t theirs either. Rex…when he came to me he struggled with this too. The guilt. It’s normal.”

“Nothing about this is normal. Not mass genocide. Not this war. Not a dictator controlling us. Not being a clone. None of it. This was all wrong from the very beginning. And no one could see it. Not even the Jedi. They paid the price and my brothers made sure of it.” He whispered, drawing his knees to his chest and hugging his massive frame into a small ball for whatever kind of comfort he could give himself.

“Wolffe…you didn’t. You tried to save him. But that wasn’t what he wanted. He wanted you to live, to fix things, to do what’s right in his name. You’re his son. He said it himself.” I soothed, wrapping my arm around his shoulder and massaging gently. “We all have to live with the fact that we couldn’t save everyone. But we do what we can to survive…to make their sacrifice worth something.”

He shook his head, balling his gravely burned hand into a fist and sighed hopelessly. “But that’s not all I did. I-I couldn’t help myself. After Plo died, the 442nd and the 104th rushed me. Jag and Sinker and Boost. They ran to try to congratulate me or something sick like that. I drew my blasters and I stood over Plo’s body. I couldn’t let them get any closer. Jag ordered them all to surround me, they needed his lightsaber for proof he’d been successfully executed. I grabbed it from his belt and backed away, but the fire from his ship's crash was inching closer to us. I warned him not to come closer. I warned him! But Jag jumped at me anyway. So I shot him. I shot Jag dead. My own brother. The men around us charged at me, subduing me in a second. That’s the last thing I remember before I escaped on my trip to the Citadel. Been working vigilante jobs for people on a bunch of planets while I tried to look for Fox. That’s how I ended up here.”

I felt myself curling into his bicep, hoping that even the most subtle of comforts would be meaningful to him. “You were trying to save Fox too. So was I. We were close, you know.” I whispered, shivering as I remembered the wild, unhinged look in his eyes. The way he tortured me when he found out the truth. “That wasn’t our Fox. He- he would never have done that to us.”

“I know. If I just had five more minutes…if I was just strong enough to drag him back with us. I should’ve saved him.” He muttered, my heart shattering at the admittance of failure from one of the toughest clones I’d ever met.

“There was no way to save him without losing one of us. The real Fox would never have let us take that risk.” I said, Wolffe grunting his agreement, crossing his arms and stretching his legs out on the floor again.

“Why did he torture you?” He finally asked after looking off in the distance lost in thought for a while.

“He wanted to know why I stole the holodisc. Who I was working for. I wasn’t going to tell him about Rex but…” I stopped, remembering the way my heart plummeted at the realization. I felt my own tears welling up now, internally beating myself up for ever being so reckless.

Wolffe turned toward me, curling an arm across my shoulders and pulling me into him. “Take your time. It’s alright.” He cooed softly, the gentle side of Wolffe finally showing itself to me.

“My body gave him away.” I muttered, fiddling with my own fingers as I anxiously skirted around having to reveal something this intimate with someone I admittedly didn’t know very well.

Wolffe’s eyes narrowed, looking me up and down in confusion. “What- what do you mean? I don’t…understand.”

I turned away from Wolffe’s gaze, afraid to reveal the truth to him because I knew what he’d say. He was so logical, rational and serious. He’d probably tell us both we were incredibly irresponsible and stupid for being in love like we were in the middle of the end of the fucking galaxy.

I started to cry, softly mimicking the very same sounds he’d woken me up with. Tears poured to wet my cheeks and pitiful whimpers left my lips as I tried to get the words out. Wolffe pulled his hand from my shoulder to guide me into a hug, tucking my head under his chin.

“Wolffe…I’m-” I ran my hand along my belly and bit my bottom lip to keep my composure. The gears were turning in his head and I slowly watched his eyes grow wide with realization. The shock freezing him in place beside me. “It’s his Wolffe. Fox knew it would be no one else but him. It gave him away immediately. Pretty awful way to find out, huh.”

All I could hear was the sound of his breathing, his heart thump thump thumping loudly against his broad chest. Just like Rex’s did when he was rushed with emotion. He didn’t say anything, just hugged me a bit closer and let the truth sink down in place within him.

“How far along?” He finally asked, tipping his head back to rest on the wall behind us.

I sniffled, “8 weeks.” I pulled away from Wolffe, to shrink back into myself, the sudden anxiety, fear, panic…every emotion at once crashing into me. “I’m so sorry. This isn’t the right time and I know you’ll probably think we’re so fucking stupid for letting this happen and-”

Wolffe reached his hand out toward me, bridging the gap between us without hesitation and supporting me like he knew I needed it. “Hey…c'mon darlin, don’t apologize. There’s uhm- never really a right time for anything anymore.” He laughed sarcastically, shrugging as I could feel his eyes roaming my frame which to him must look so small. “This is a good thing ya know? We clones…we weren’t supposed to have futures. Options. Choices. You’ve given Rex thousands he’d never even let himself dream of having. Trust me, I know him. We’ve never been given much but the one thing we do have is each other. Support your brothers. Same heart, same blood. We’re family. And well- you just made ours a little bigger.”

I looked up through the blurry film of my tears at the one thing I never thought I’d see on Wolffe’s face, a fucking smile. A real one. Kind, happy, almost affectionate. The side of him Rex always glowingly spoke about was now finally shining on me too. I blinked and let a few final tears slide down my cheeks, reaching out to take hold of Wolffe’s offered hand. “I’ll have him and Gregor to protect us I suppose. I hope they don’t get mad when I eat all their rations myself.” I grinned sheepishly.

Wolffe pulled off his other glove, holding it as gently as he could between massive fingers and reaching forward to wipe my cheeks clean of wet tears with the fabric. “And you’ll have me.”

I perked up, sitting up straight and whispering, “so you do want to stick around?” I teased.

“Yeah I mean- what’s another uncle?” He rolled his eyes and gestured broadly at the millions of other family they all had out there. “Besides, somebody’s gonna have to protect you three. Well…four now.”

I ran my hand along the otherwise normal plain of my belly. “It’s…almost impossible to imagine. I know I’m a bit overwhelmed and I know you think I’m too intense sometimes but I’m-” I smiled down at where I’d imagined the tiny little thing to be.

What they might look like? 

Who they might look like?

What are the odds they’d end up being a cute little blondie like their Daddy?

“I’m happy. Wolffe, I’ve never felt so happy. It’s extraordinary.”

Wolffe snorted, shaking his head and half smirking exactly like his little brother. “Of course it is. It’s Rex. Everything he does is out of the ordinary. Always has been his way. But hell I’m fucking proud he’s my little brother. Don’t you ever tell him I said that.”

I sighed, swiveling toward the blast doors and blinked as if it would somehow help clear the darkness surrounding everything in the universe right now. “I have to tell him. He’s gotta be confused after everything Fox was saying. He’s probably so worried.”

“All he was worried about was getting us to safety. I’ll go tell him you’re up and asking for him. He’ll come running. You seem to have that effect on people.”

“So you and I are a lot more alike than we realized.” I retorted. He arched an eyebrow at me and stood up slowly, reaching his hand down to pull me up after him.

“You go lay down. Someone’s gotta go bring Daddy home. Never in a billion lightyears did I think I’d be saying that about one of my brothers.” He scoffed and I giggled as I watched him stride out the blast doors.

Just as he grabbed the rung of the ladder up to the cockpit I called after him, “Hey Wolffe.” He paused, “None of this means we’re giving up on Fox. I swear to you, we’ll bring him home too. I won’t forget about him. About any of you.”

His eyes fell to the floor and he sighed, his broad shoulders sagging and reminding me just how much grief he’d been carrying alone all this time. “Thanks Darlin’. I’m glad someone won’t.”

I waited a while. Rex and one of his favorite older brothers probably took some time to catch up.  I didn’t mind because I think they all needed that time together to help heal. It’s the best they could do right now.

I laid down in our bunk, mindlessly drawing circles and patterns on my belly the way Rex always did. My mind raced, anxiously wondering what he would think, how he would feel. After everything I told him, all I’d said to try to talk him out of this on Saleucami, I hoped he still felt the same. That he would be happy this happened, even through all the risks we’d be taking. It felt like an oddly timed miracle in all this chaos.

Why us? Why now?

Nothing was solid. Nothing was safe. All we had was each other in a world filled with hostile takeovers, extinctions, war and loss.

Why?

All I could think to rationalize it was that the Force had to search for whatever good it could find out there. Foster it. Help it grow. Make it spread. Replicate it again. What Rex and I had was powerful, unbreakable, uplifting and hopeful. It was as if the Force itself had wanted to harness that pure love and use it to create more of the good the galaxy lacked.

Well it succeeded. The best news we could’ve ever gotten falling into our laps right when we had least expected it. I closed my eyes, half expecting to somehow be able to feel the lifeform growing within me, but instead heard the sound of soft footfalls tamping down the rungs of the ladder.

The blast doors slid open and a soft whisper filled the silence of the room.

“Mesh’la? You awake, pretty girl?” He called out, practically floating over the space between us and approaching our bedside.

“Mhm.” I hummed, turning over to reach for him. He leaned down and scooped me into his arms, wrapping his massive unarmored biceps around my back protectively. His face buried into my neck and he softly inhaled the scent of me for comfort.

“I thought I almost lost you too.” He muttered, his voice slightly quivering at the thought of what might’ve happened had Wolffe not found us.

“Never.” I replied, grazing my fingertips softly along the curls at the nape of his neck. “You always know your way to me, Rex.” I tightened my arms around him and held on, the safety and stability he provided soothing all my worries just like always.

“He didn’t hurt you too bad did he? Fox I mean…or whoever that was.” Rex pulled away, rubbing his palms up and down the length of my arm. His warm, affectionate gaze was filled with concern as he searched over my entire body for signs of injury.

“I’m- I’m okay, love. But there’s something I need to tell you.” I blinked up at him, the nervousness breaking up any tension formed on my face from all the events of the last day or so. We never kept secrets from each other. At this point, constantly living on the run together meant, we didn’t have many anyways.

Slowly, he sat down on the bunk beside me motioning for me to scoot over. I obliged, sliding over to let him slot into place. He propped himself up on one arm and slid my entire body into his with the other, a warm palm resting on my waist. I looked down at where he was touching me, his hands so close to where our baby grew within me and he didn’t even know yet.

I smiled at his touch, instantly soothing my worries and leaned forward to kiss his lips gently. He received it like he always did, hungry and passionate and meaningful. His lips closed around mine, breaking only for air and the softest of joyful laughs. Our noses brushed, chins tipping forward in tandem to chase after the other, fervently drinking in the presence of love blooming between us. Before, figuratively, and now literally growing because of us.

I pulled away, nibbling his bottom lip and ghosting gentle touches down his now stubbled jaw. Our foreheads pressed together and every breath we took was shared, as if we were one body taking up our own little space in the wide expanse of the galactic cosmos.

“There was something you wanted to say, Mesh’la…? You know if you want to get me into bed with you, you don’t even have to ask.” He chuckled, the pads of his thumbs grazing my cheekbone as he cupped my face in one large hand.

I gulped, feeling the anxiety flood me all over again. “Rex…when Fox was interrogating me…he knew I’d never talk. He wanted to know if you’d lived but he knew I’d never say anything to give you up. So…so he called for the Interrogation Droid. But it didn’t…didn’t go to plan.” I let out a shaky sigh, my fingers digging a tighter grip into the duraweave on his shoulders. 

Rex huffed out a short exhale, the anger rising in his chest, “Did he hurt you? Tell me the truth. It’s alright, you can tell me.” He tipped my chin up to hold my gaze, hoping that through the kindness in his eyes I’d find confidence to tell him what was nagging at me.

I shook my head, “N-no, Rex. No, he didn’t hurt me. I promise.” The rigidness in his trap muscle relaxed, finding the resolve to let the tension go at my words. He believed me. His eyes narrowed in confusion, jaw tightening as his mind raced through every conceivable thing that could be bothering me. “You know how they have to prepare enough of the sedative stims to put you under? Keep you pliant enough to confess?”

He nodded, running his fingers through the hair at my temple and resting the other hand on the small of my back for any comforting support he could offer me. “Yeah. They usually scan you to determine how much they need. Had to administer some myself when interrogating Seppie prisoners.” The apprehension between the two of us made the lines on his face deepen with the scowl he wore. “I’ve never seen you so timid before, what’s got you so nervous?”

“When…when they scanned me…they found-” I began to tremble beside him, gripping his shoulder tighter and nibbling on my bottom lip to keep the words from spilling out. Instead of words falling, tears did. Happy this time, though Rex couldn’t discern that from my behavior. “Rex…my love, you’re going to be a Daddy.”

The worry furrowing his brow broke, his entire face, his whole demeanor lighting up with elated exhilaration. His jaw dropped open in surprise and his warm golden eyes ignited with a pride I’d never seen before. “W-What?” He muttered, both his hands cupping my cheeks and steadying himself in my gaze.

I rambled, the nervousness wracking my frame as I tried to guess how he felt. I repeated, “I’m pregnant, Rex. 8 weeks. I’m so sorry we had to find out like this. I’m so sorry I gave you up. I didn’t mean to. I would’ve died before I told them you lived. I’m sorry, Rex, I’m sor-”

He cut me off with a deep kiss, his left hand cupping the back of my neck and the right holding my cheek as he excitedly crashed into me. His tongue slid past my parted lips, consuming every square inch of me to swallow the unneeded apology.

“Mesh’la…This is the happiest day of our lives. You have nothing to be sorry for. Forget everything else right now. This is about us. Just me and you. This thing we have between us…we made this. I can’t believe it.” Rex whispered softly, looking down at my still normal belly. “It was Saleucami, wasn’t it? That was about 8 weeks ago.”

“Yes, my love. Saleucami.” I sighed, nuzzling into his cheek affectionately. “You were so determined that day. Guess even the Force couldn’t stop you.” I pulled back, brushing through wisps of blonde hair just starting to curl across his forehead.

“Hey, maybe it didn’t want to.” Rex challenged, his touch gently running down the sides of my waist and tracing patterns along my skin that were far too delicate for a man who was used to wielding blasters and throwing punches. His curious gaze flicked down to where he knew our baby was slowly but surely growing strong, at a normal rate. “Can-can I?” He muttered, stroking along the curves of my side with the backs of his knuckles.

The warmest, most comforting smile beamed across my face at the sight of him so eager to care for something small the way he had always cared for me. I moved to pull up my shirt and laid flat on my back, “You can feel if you want. I-I want you to.”

He sat up, lacing his fingers with mine to hold my hand as he apprehensively stretched out the other. He started with just his fingertips, gliding them along the smooth surface he’d kissed probably a thousand times by now. I didn’t feel much of anything, but the tickling of his fingertips made me erupt in goosebumps.

His head turned back to me, a real smile curling his lips and the mist-eyed glossy film of tears reflecting in his eyes. He flattened his palm out overtop of my belly, the sheer size of it probably bigger than the baby itself was. It would be way too small at that time to be noticed, but I swear Rex’s hand met my skin and my whole body felt like what I’d imagined stardust might feel like. Tingling, bright, burst of emotions cascading from my core outwards to every last fingertip.

Rex, knowing my body as well as he knew his own, felt the change in me instantly. “Hi Ad’ika.” He whispered, tightening his grip on my hand as he spoke. “It’s your Dad. But I think you knew that already.” He chuckled softly, “Sure is nice to know I can do a lot more than just take lives. So thanking you for proving that to me once and for all, little bug.”

For Rex, to know the truth now was to fall in love twice.

Once with me, a bond of trust, devotion and enamour through the uncertainty of war, the darkness of Republic collapse.

And again with our child, growing inside me despite all that the galaxy had done to prevent a clone from knowing what the creation of new life had to offer a man who had only known war, violence and loss.

I watched the love I knew swell up all over again in the only man who ever taught me its meaning. Unconditionally and unlimitedly, through all obstacles. We’d nurtured something between us so unstoppable and so passionate that the universe knew no better reward than to let it blossom and watch it grow again in another form.

A boy. Nothing told me for certain. I could just feel it. I knew it to be true. Something, that cosmic consciousness that seemed to touch all that balanced our universe, convinced me that it was so. And that, like everything his Father ever seemed to accomplish since he was created, he was special too.

“We love you so much already. We can’t wait to see who you look like, little one.” I looked up at Rex, beaming like the stars chose him to shine brighter than the others and sighed. “And I love your Daddy so very, very much. Because he deserves it.”

“Bet it’s a little blondie.” A voice called from the blast door opening.

A gruffer, deeper voice retorted. “Doubt it. Dark hair. So they can match their handsome uncles.”

“Uncles? More like Dads.” Gregor’s familiar giggle echoing throughout the ship’s interior.

Rex groaned, “Gregor…you’re an Uncle and if you suggest anything otherwise, I’m not gonna hurt you, she will.” He slumped down in bed beside me and slid his arm under my head to cradle me close to him.

“Fine. Uncles. Now can we come in?” Gregor asked, rapping a melodic pattern on the blast door.

“They’re part of our family too, right?” I giggled, whistling confirmation that they could enter. They both strolled into the bunk room, fully preparing themselves to have to fight over who got the bunk tonight and who got the floor.

“Just settle down, brothers. After today, I think we all could use a little rest for a while. Lay low somewhere quiet until this mess blows over a bit.” Rex urged, pulling our blankets up over us both and making sure I was comfortable beside him. “Some of us are sleeping for two.”

“I hope you don’t mean yourself, Rex’ika.” Wolffe remarked sarcastically, grabbing himself and Gregor some pillows and blankets from a shelf in the bunk room.

“Hey, be grateful you don’t have to hear the two of them for a while. No one would get any sleep.” Gregor remarked.

“You won’t need sleep where I’ll send you.” Rex shot back. All three of them remarkably fell into place like the brothers they were. Little quips, digs and arguments with each other like nothing was out of the ordinary. And suddenly there was no better place to be than here. No better time to add another little member to this makeshift family we had here. No other people I’d want around me than the three of them.

“Hey guys? I uhm- Rex, remember how you used to tell me about the sleeping piles you’d have on missions?” I thought aloud, imagining how warm and safe and comforting it must be to have the people you’d live, breathe and die for surround you on all sides.

“Yeah, what about it?” He responded, humming softly as he cuddled me into him.

“I don’t want them to sleep on the floor, baby. Not after today. They can come up here with us. We’ve got room and I…I just want all of us to feel safe right now, ok?”

Wolffe and Gregor exchanged glances, waiting for the ok from Rex before jumping into the bunk beside us. Rex sighed softly, “yeah alright. But she sleeps against the wall. Wolffe and Gregor behind me.” I slid over and pulled Rex into me, curling my entire body into his and sinking into his chest as much as I could.

His brothers crawled into the bunk beside him and closed their eyes to recoup after one of the longest, most traumatic days they’d had since the order only a few months ago. It was nice to have some semblance of normalcy between each other again.

But Rex didn’t sleep a wink. Because he spent the entire night watching over us all as we slept, making sure we got our rest and recovery in, like a leader should. And despite all my restlessness, twisting and turning, his hand still never left my belly.

--

Mando'a translation note:Mandokarla = having "the right stuff", showing guts and spirit, the state of being the epitome of Mandalorian virtue

Note: HI!!! no spicy stuff this time, don't think the moment was really right for several reasons. you'll see why. thank you all for the love and support always <3 I also have a gif reference for the last bit of this chapter that reaaaaally helps you envision the s o f t.

taglist (please let me know if you'd like to be added/removed):

@literallydontlook @moonstrider9904 @thefact0rygirl @fett-djarin @starwarsmeninhelmets @zinzinina @kaminocasey @pinkiemme @queenquazar @sleepingsun501 @galacticgraffiti @pedropascalsx @captainrexi @ashotofspotchka @calkestiis @rexandechosandwich

[viviskull]

WHAT NOT TO DO WHEN INTERACTING WITH MY BLOG - Customizable Edition

BASICS !

Name / Alias: Phoenix

Pronouns: They/Them/She/Her/He/Him (HOWEVER, I do prefer them/they and its easier to remember if you’re too unsure. :) ))

Blog type: single muse | Multi-muse | non selective | semi selective | selective | mutuals only | private | other (specify)

Type of muses: canon | OCs | both | other (specify)

GENERALITIES !

Triggers people MUST tag: N/A

Interest tracker / checker: I have it and it's mandatory | I have it, it's not mandatory but I'm more likely to follow bad / interact with the people who fill it | I have one and I prefer it if people fill it in | I have it but it's to people whether to fill it or not | I don't have one | other (I had one in the past but got rid of it since most people ignored it lol)

Reblog karma: I practice it | I practise it sometimes | I don't practise it | I always reblog memes from the source | indifferent | other (specify)

Rule passwords: I have one and it's mandatory | I have one and it's optional | I don't have one | I send passwords | don't sent passwords | [space for eventual additions / explanations]

3-5 ESSENTIAL RULES PEOPLE HAVE TO RESPECT (All have been sourced from my rules post):

I am NOT a RP meme achieve!  Please do not reblog RP Memes from me if you’re not intending to send one in return.  I’ve seen it done so many times on here that it just really hurts people only use me for that sort of content.  If you want to use/save it for later (like Reblogging/Liking it), go to its source, not my own reblog!  I don’t need that stuff clogging my notifications.  Consider this as a warning: I WILL softblock or hardblock you if you continue to do this repeatedly.  This rule isn’t here for show!

Keep me out of drama you and your friends might be getting yourselves into.  I’ve already had my fair share of it without my consent and I’d rather not lose another 50 years of my life getting drowned in anger.  We all got bills to pay and I don’t have the energy to deal with petty problems lol.

Just something more to know since I don’t like rushing my muses as they come like the wind: I tend to have a writing limit on making highly detailed replies and they often take nearly all day just to write a few basic paragraphs for me.  Either I can make 1 or 2 drafts just fine, but its my limit I put on myself to not burn myself too fast when I constantly reply to threads almost every day; and with breaks in between to help the writing process.  I put a ton of heart into everything I make, even if I tend to be slow for some folks. As long you don’t rush me, you’ll find yourself reading books of info when it comes to interacting with my characters :3

3-5 IMPORTANT PET PEEVES TO KEEP IN MIND

This is more of a personal preference than anything else, at least when it comes to more highly detailed replies of mind.  Unless its like a one off crack RP?  I don’t interact with people who only do one liners for more semi-serious threads.  To me anyway, when I see when a reply I put a ton of attention to detail and ton of heart into the emotions of character, it rubs me the wrong way when someone just replies super quick with a single sentence or a simple word of dialogue.  Yeah, I’m always happy whenever someone gets excited for something we’re both taking the time out of our day for to get super invested in, but a single sentence normally doesn’t give me much to work with when it feels like they’re expecting me to move the plot for them.  I’m a writer, not a DND dungeon master.

People pestering me for replies when they can’t be patient enough for me to get to their thread when they just replied to it.  I have it in my rules stating I am a slow writer and I don’t move quick for no one.  Yes, my RP partners will message me whenever they want to make a joke or plot out details, but constantly messaging someone to BUG and POKE them for a reply is a different thing entirely.  It hasn’t been a huge problem as of late since the RPC has been maturing these few years.  However, having wasted an hour of time trying to explain to someone I can’t force my muses to pump out replies like a workhorse and it only leading to frustration, this type of crap leads to me blocking folks for it; as it has in the past.

Forced shipping and people trying to act sly with dumping their fet*shes onto my muses without asking.  It’s happened to me and some of my friends before.  Normally I’m chill when it comes to folks being open about their k*nks, but girl I just met you and I’m not letting my muses becoming a mineshaft.  Thanks, but you’re getting sent into the void so fast lol.

2-5 THINGS THAT WILL LEAD TO INSTANT (SOFT)BLOCKING

People not not tagging their lemons ig??  This isn’t a hard trigger for me since I’m ace, but its more of a squint than anything.  I like my sauce like the next fella, but sometimes I just don’t want my parents to see smut the first thing on my dash when I open my phone ig lol.  Its not an INSTANT soft block, but it just depends if I need to or not.

People not following my rules ig lol.

2-5 THINGS THAT LEAD ME TO UNFOLLOW / SOFTBLOCK A MUTUAL / SOMEONE I INTERACT WITH

Going off more of comfort levels?  I just unfollow people after a bit if I feel like I might just not vibe with them after following them for a while.  Sometimes we don’t even interact like once even after we followed each other for six months.  Sometimes people don’t click and thats fine.  But if I feel like I am the only one that’s really putting the energy out to reaching out to you and you’re not even returning that mutual energy?  I’m not wasting my resources and just moving else where.

Terfs and homophobes are not welcome here for a reason.  If I find out a mutual is posting shit on dash that’s being like this even remotely towards a friend or even me?  I won’t even waste my energy on talking with them anymore and just block them. I’m nonbinary and I’m tired.  I can’t risk my safety if you feel like my existence is a waste of space lmao.

2-5 REASON YOU DON'T TO FOLLOW (BACK) SOMEONE

Their aesthetic blog is something that can be important if I want to follow you or not, but its not if it looks pretty.  If I see if someones theme is barely readable or its burning my eyes to hell and back?  I don’t bother following back and just move on.  

I don’t follow personals that follow me.  Sorry.

tagged by: Stole it tagging: PUNCHES U

[quillsanddaydreams]

what great men say

james potter x reader

—author’s note: I was extremely soft about James and just how goofy he is around his friends and I just had to write it down. So what does being friends with James and eventually falling for him include? Enjoy!

—warning(s): mentions of food, she/her pronouns!reader 

—wordcount: 3,196

You sighed looking at the time. He would be here any minute— he never came late. Tapping your foot, you turned your attention to the book open in front of you. Transfiguration. The subject that you struggled with the most. James excelled at it. 

The turtle he transformed the teacup into that day was stunning. Popping its head inside the green-gold shell as everyone looked on. James smiled teasingly wide when McGonagall had commended him. No one noticed when he shifted aside to talk to the turtle in a baby voice. It made you smile. You blinked. Words swirled on the page you’d opened. Shaking your head, you turned to concentrate on them.

“There you are!” James shouted as the librarian shot him a glare. He was huffing— apparently from running to the library. He made an apologetic face and slowly came and plopped down beside you.

“Do you always have to be loud?” you said as he playfully rolled his eyes.

“Well, a great man once said loudness is the way of life,” he huffed, breathing deeply as you raised an eyebrow.

“And is this great man you?”

“Are you saying anything to the contrary?”

You let a small smile play on your lips which etched his grin further.

“I wouldn’t dare,” you said as he adjusted his collar, looking smug.

“I mean, even great men tell the turtle they made from a teacup that it is a good boy,” you said nonchalantly, opening a notebook. James flustered.

“I didn’t tell Jake he was a good boy,” he murmured.

“Jake, huh?”

“Shut it.”

The two of you spend the next hour working on the transfiguration assignment. James was patient as he helped you through spells and theory. You laughed, studied and talked. It was just like that between you two. You were good friends, you teased each other, pulled a few pranks and had fun. There was something about him that made you open up more than anyone else. And you loved him. It was stupid really. 

James was utterly and completely in love with Lily Evans. Everyone knew that. You tried and you tried to push it back but you couldn’t help it. It crept up upon you- he had always been so kind to you, so adorably cute that you just fell for him. As torturous as it was, you didn’t dare to even hint him about it. Listening to him gush about the perfect head-girl, you never let your smile fade even if it never reached your eyes. 

James poked your side as you packed your books.

“Hmm?”

“Lily and I talked a lot last night,” he said excitedly as your chest contracted. You zipped up your bag, hanging it by your side.

“Oh yeah?” you asked, plastering on a smile. The two of you started moving out of the library.

“It was amazing,” He said, punctuating each word, a dreamy look on his face. “She told me about her muggle life- records, music tapes- that sort of stuff. She was surprised when I talked to her about Queen and Beatles, impressed even.”

He scratched the back of his head, narrowly avoiding a first year who ran past the two of you.

“Couldn’t tell her you introduced it to us and it’s what Sirius blasts in the room all day long.”

You giggled.

“Did he listen to all of them already?” you asked, desperate to change topics. The two of you turned around the corner. James scoffed.

“Pretty sure he heard each of them at least a hundred times.”

“It’s good music James,” you sighed. “Ask him whether he’s free next Hogsmeade weekend, I’ll show him a place he’s going to adore.”

“Ah, I have some head-boy duties with Lily, Remus is helping Slughorn for extra credit and Peter is practicing astronomy,” James said as you furrowed your eyebrows.

“So Sirius is free?”

“Yes, but we aren’t,” James shrugged as you laughed.

“Okay,” you dragged on, not sure where the conversation was going. “Ask him if he’d like to go with me?”

James turned to you, confused.

“You’ll go with Sirius, alone?” he asked as you hummed in response, shrugging. He scowled.

You turned back at James standing at the door to the common room.

“Tomorrow, same time?” you asked with a smile. He nodded giving you a half-hearted grin and moving towards his room. Did you say something wrong? Shaking your head, you retreated to your dorm.

-♡♡♡-

A loud knock shook you. You looked towards the window and… James?

“James what the hell are you doing there?” you asked, jolting towards the sill and unlocking it. The idiot was standing a broom nearly forty feet above ground.

“I was wondering whether you’d join us all for a trip to the kitchens?” he breathed, a small smile playing on his lips. You heard snorts making you look down at the ground. Sirius, Remus and Peter were rolling out in laughter, but you couldn’t think much about that.

“Are you insane? Bloody sit down on your broom or come in,” you said eyes wide.

“Fine, I’m coming.” James grinned, jumping inside. He grabbed your arms almost falling over you. A strong perfume attacked your senses. His face was so close to yours, you could count the faint freckles on his face. Messy strands of hair fell over his forehead making you want to run your hands over them. You blinked, steading yourself before taking a step back. James coughed.

“Um, I was sneaking out for some hot chocolate,” he said placing his hands in his jeans’ pocket, thumbs out. “I remember you complaining we never took you.”

“Oh,” you said, feeling awkward all of a sudden. “Let me just get my jacket, it’s kinda cold.”

Grabbing the nearest jacket, you put it on as James stared around your room. You had decorated it beautifully. Post cards, quotes and some letters were put up on a wall on the far end. His eyes fell on you as you turned to him smiling, ready to leave. He gulped.

“How are we leaving?” you asked and James gestured to his broom floating outside your window.

After much bickering, you found yourself sitting behind James, holding onto him for your dear life. That wasn’t to say you didn’t enjoy it. It felt good being so close to him, having your hands around his waist. You almost felt sad when you reached down. Sirius smirked at you as you climbed off the broom. He knew more than he probably should.

“What took you so long?” Peter complained. You saw Sirius open his mouth to say something but closed it on seeing your glare. He wrapped an arm around your shoulder.

“Well now that she’s here, shall we?” he said leading you ahead of the group.

James frowned at the two of you. Sirius whispered something in your ear making you roll your eyes playfully.

“What’s made you so off now?” Peter asked. Remus patted his shoulder.

“Jealousy is always a bad colour on people my dear wormtail,” Remus said dramatically. James raised it eyebrows.

“I’m not jealous,” James said pointedly and then shrugged. “What would I be jealous of?”

Remus rolled his eyes.

“Sureeee.”

You took in the warm room while the boys asked for hot chocolates for all of you. Sweet smell of banana bread and muffins eloped the kitchen. Remus called for you, handing you a steaming mug of cocoa. You sat down beside James tuning in to their conversation. He gave you a small smile as Remus and Peter quarrelled about their divination predictions. You laughed and you talked, feeling the week’s tension slowly slip off your shoulders. When it was time to leave, you felt oddly content. Making them promise to make this a monthly thing, you finally turned to leave. James held you back.

“I was wondering, if you’d like to have a bit more fun?” James asked, biting his lip. “Just us two.”

You looked at him curiously and licked your lip.

“And what will this fun, entail?”

“There’s this small place near the edge of forbidden forest,” he said and you raised an eyebrow. “I swear it’s not that dangerous. It’s honestly beautiful.”

James didn’t know why he was so bent over to spend some more time with you. All he knew was that he didn’t want the evening to end. He didn’t want to leave you just yet. So when you nodded slowly, he couldn’t stop the grin that spread on his face.

The two of you tip-toed through the castle, James’s invisibility cloak with him just in case. Checking the map, he turned towards you. Taking your hand in his; he whispered, “Run.”

Your eyes widened. James sprinted forward, taking you with him. There was no time to think. Trying to keep up with him— you made your way through the grounds, the air icy against your face. You were huffing by the time you reached the lip of the forest.

“What exactly were we running from?” you asked, taking in gulps of air.

“No one— we were taking too much time,” he said shrugging. “And adrenaline always feels good.”

He didn’t notice you glaring at him. You slapped his arm playfully.

“Hey—” he groaned, rubbing at the spot.

“Now that you’ve wounded me, shall we?”

You nodded, biting the inside of your cheek. Placing his palms on your shoulder James turned you, leading you towards a small clearing. Your arms erupted in goosebumps, feeling him right behind you. His breath tickled your neck. Did he really not know the effect he had on you? Reaching there, James gestured around dramatically. Fireflies buzzed around the area and the ground bloomed with wild flowers.

“Wow,” you gasped. James watched you, his face lighting up. Running your hands through the shrubs you looked up. Night sky was always clear at Hogwarts. But somehow it seemed even more beautiful then. You glanced towards James catching him staring.

“See something you like?”

“You look beautiful,” James uttered before he could stop himself. Your cheeks heated up.

You did. You looked gorgeous every single day. James swallowed, a distinct blush covering his cheeks. He felt your gaze on him, waiting for him to say something. He heard you sigh after a little while.

“You know, when I was small, I used to collect fireflies in a jar,” you said, sitting down slowly. James joined you. “Pretty little things they were. I would stare at them for hours. Mum hated them. Dad didn’t seem to mind. They would zoom around in the jar and I would take it in hand running through the house saying they were my army. Danger shall befall those who cross me— I used to say”

James let out a laugh, sighing as you both watched the stars. Sneaking a glance at him, you caught him doing the same. Light from flies lighted up his face, his brown eyes sparkling. You didn’t know who leaned in. His lips were soft against yours as you let your hands tangle in his hair. His arms went to your waist, tugging you towards him. The kiss seemed to light you up. Pulling back breathless you stared at him, seeing something that made your stomach. Guilt. You dug your nails into your palm, waiting for the excuses to come. And it came. He called out your name.

“Don’t.” You snapped.

Scrambling to your feet, you started moving back towards the castle. James followed you.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t think. I don’t know what happened and I—”

You twisted towards him.

“I’m not angry at you James,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. James frowned. “I— I just like you, okay? I’ve liked you for quite some time.”

James’ eyes widened a little. You let out a laugh, looking away.

“I’m not angry at you. I’m angry at myself. Do you realise how pathetic it is, to love someone knowing they’ll never love you back?  Every day I’ll tell myself; it doesn’t matter. That it’s a crush and it’ll go away. And every day I fall a little more in love with you knowing you’ll never feel the same.”

Silence fell around you and you wrapped your arms around yourself. You felt cold. James watched you, desperate to reach out. He wanted to stop you but he didn’t know how. All he could do was listen.

“I think, I think it’ll be better for me to stay away from you for a while,” you breathed, trying your best not to let the tears in your eyes fall.

You walked back to the castle leaving James alone. A tear fell down his face and he furiously wiped it off.

-♡♡♡-

The next few days seemed never-ending. Classes, homework and head-boy duties kept James busy. He practiced harder and longer on the field. But his mind wasn’t in it. It was full with the thoughts of you. He tried. He really tried to reach out to you somehow. To catch your eye during classes, give you a small smile, but you hardly even glanced at him. It hurt. More than he could ever care to admit. He had quite forgotten what it was like not to spend time together every single day. To not listen to you complain about your day, hear your laugh. He felt alone.

Bacon and eggs were laid out in front of him, but he couldn’t bring himself to eat. He toyed it around with his fork.

“Ahhh James! Just the person I was looking for,” Lily said with a bright smile as James looked towards her. “I was thinking maybe you could join me after lunch? We can review the prefect rounds’ details.”

James furrowed his eyebrows.

“Didn’t we do that last week?”

Lily’s expression fell, but she covered it up quickly.

“Yes we did, but I thought maybe we could go over them again?” she said expectantly.

“Uh- sure.” He said, moving his attention back to his plate. He pushed it away.

Sirius, Peter and Remus raised their eyebrows at him. James looked at them questioningly.

“Are you dead?” Remus asked.

“No?”

“Yeah I think he’s dead.” Sirius pipped in. James opened his mouth to retort but Sirius bet him to it.

“Look, I know finding out your friend is in love with you while you think you’re in love with someone else isn’t easy—”

“Especially when you’re actually in love with the said friend," Peter said, taking a bite of his toast. James opened his mouth.

“Especially then —but you gotta make up your mind. Go date Lily and find out how worthless it is and then go back to friend or go now and talk to her and tell her what you really feel about her.”

James blinked.

“I’m not in love with her,” he said slowly as they collectively groaned. He ignored them. “And how did you know that she told me she likes me?”

“It was obvious?” Sirius said as Remus rolled his eyes.

“You know what? Let him continue his idiocy for more. I want to see how long this can actually go on,” Remus said as others hummed in response, shrugging.

“What? You’re not even going to listen to me now?” James stated as his friends paid no attention.

“Not when you’re being a dumbass, no.”

James banged his head on the table. Remus continued to read his book while Sirius and Peter concentrated on their breakfast.

“What if, what if I said,” James began slowly. “That maybe I do love her. I do love her and I was the biggest fool in the world and screwed this up beyond repair?”

Remus stared at James, a small smile overcoming his features.

“You tell her exactly that.”

-♡♡♡-

You sighed turning the page. The story was captivating at first, but now— not so much. There was a knock at the window and you turned to see… James? Your heart thumped against your chest. He stood there, probably on his broomstick waiting for you to let him in. Pushing the covers aside, you got up and opened the small lock as James hopped in. Your chest clenched seeing him for the first time in weeks. You had missed him. His hair was disheveled and he fidgeted awkwardly, staring at you.

“James why are you here?” you asked softly. You wanted nothing more than to hug him. But you held back. You couldn’t do that to yourself, not anymore.

“I— um— I wanted to tell you something,” he said as you gestured at him to go on. There was silence.

“Well?”

James flushed, looking down.

“I— I had this whole speech prepared and now I forgot what I was supposed to say,” he said and you looked at him curiously. “I know it starts with me saying I might be the biggest dumbass at Hogwarts.”

“That I can agree on,” you pointed out, a small grin evident on your face. James cracked a smile hearing you tease him after weeks. Somehow, he never minded it when it was you. There was silence again, but this time it felt calmer.

“You see? I had a fascination with this red-headed girl,” he whispered. Your throat bobbed. He was here to talk about Lily? “This fiery girl who rejected me every time I asked her out. And my fascination just grew. So much that I couldn’t even notice myself falling for someone else. Someone who’d been an amazing friend.”

Your eyes snapped towards him and he gave you a light smile.

“I don’t love Lily. I don’t. And I hate myself for not realizing it. But even more than that I hate myself for turning you away. I’m sorry,” he said as you sniffed, letting his words soak in. He loved you, not Lily. You knew you must be looking like an idiot then, giddiness blooming through your body.

“Are you sure this isn’t the speech you prepared?” you said as James chuckled. He shook his head.

“My prepared speech was written by a great man and it did not end with an apology.”

“Oh? What did that great man end the speech with?” you said, joy evident on James’ face. He was enjoying this.

“Asking you out,” he said cheekily and you let out a snort.

“Well, that’s a let down,” you said, putting on a disappointed expression, noticing James furrowing his brows. “I was hoping the speech would end in some kisses; after all, don—"

You couldn’t finish the sentence as James pulled you closer by your waist and pressed his lips against yours. You sighed, tugging him closer by his neck. Pulling back, you rested your forehead against his taking deep breaths.

“I fucking love you,” James said, cradling your face and starting to press kisses all over. You giggled.

“I love you too. Tell that great man I’d like to go out with him this Hogsmeade weekend, will you?” you said as James let out a laugh.

—as for the taglist: I don’t make taglists, I have a blog @from-my-quill which is updated whenever I post fanfiction. You could have the notifications on for it and it will work just like me tagging you.

⟨⟨REBLOGS AND FEEDBACK ARE APPRECIATED⟩⟩

[simons-temple-of-eros]

stanford pines x reader hanahaki drabble

so here it is. a brainspill of a drabble i throw together because i wanted to write something sorta angsty. he/they pronouns are used for the reader and also tw for blood. egregious use of flower symbolism ahead!

♡ ♥ ♠ ♣ © ☞ 〠♬♩ ♫ □ ☎ ■♪$☆●＋＊，＋◇◆

When people thought about rose, they more often thought about the red rose.

Red like the passion of burning love, red like the the color of a freshly picked apple, like the reds of the skies as the sun shined its final rays of the day.

Red like blood, warm as it stained his lips. Coppery liquid staining the tiles of the bathroom floor.

White roses were the lesser seen rose. Some saw them as the colder, more aloof rose. The rose that showed its thorns more than its petals.

And yet you couldn't stay away. And with every gentle touch of the flower you would find your hands scratched and marred and red.

Red like a rose like the red that now stained the angelic beauty of the white rose.

But you couldn't stop, you didn't want to stop, feeling like a moth drawn into the dazzling beauty of the blue light and unaware, or uncaring, about the pain it would bring.

Even now, as the thorns of the beautiful yet painful flora tore you throat and filled your lungs with ivory petals, you refused to stop.

Even when you see the way he looks at his muse, the way his eyes glowed with a light you wished would've been from you, the way the feeling grows roots in your heart with a cold ache that brings with it more snow hued flowers stained red.

You reach for the white roses once more. You hope maybe this time you'll feel soft petals instead of jagged thorns.

One day, he starts to find roses.

Not yellow roses, not orange or red but a cool white color of petals scattered about.

He doesn't know why but the sight fills him with a sense of dread.

He knows he should look into it, but his assistant (who looks more and more tired these days) tells him it's probably just the wind. His muse agrees. (but there was an almost knowing look in his eye as he did so.)

The scientist casts his concern aside.

But the concerns come back and take firm root the day he finds a bundle of these flowers splattered with crimson blood in the trash like some morbid sort of bouquet.

When he asks his assistant about the matter, he's suddenly aware of the look in his eyes. The eyes that so often carried a starry sort of fascination (something the scientist had shyly chalked up to being a similar interest in the paranormal) had a tired sort of darkness to them.

Something was clearly wrong, so why why wouldn't they tell him?

He becomes extra gentle towards his partner, keeping him from the more dangerous bits of their work and praising him for his help. Yet his best efforts only seem to make them shy away.

The scientist is sure that there's something he's missing, a truth hiding just under the surface but he couldn't put his finger on what it was. On what made his dear assistant look at him with a mixture of hope and sorrow.

White petals cover the floor, red red red blood staining them and his hands.

None of it matters, though, not while his partner is doubled over in his arms, painfully hacking up blood and flora.

Suddenly he doesn't think he likes the look of roses anymore.

Eventually, the 'attack' seems to abate and his partner is leaning against him, avoiding his eyes.

"Mmm s'rrry..." He wheezes out, eyes at the ground in guilt.

"Shhh.. just... breathe for me, please." He gently rubs circles on their back, the action coming to him easily from faded memories. (crying in bed, a gruff voice telling him promises of sailing the ocean, of finding a place where people like them can belong, he shakes this thought away for now.) He searches his mind for something to say, but only one thought comes to mind;

"Who is it?"

A silence. "It doesn't matter..."

"You just coughed up half your weight in blood and roses, if I hadn't found you..." A shudder goes through him.

"...He-they... they d-don't feel the same."

"How can you be sure?"

"...They have more important things.. more important-" A rough cough startles the two of them and the scientist only holds his assistant tighter. "more important than...me..."

He feels a sense of indignation at this. The thought that there could be anything in the world more important than you. The thought that there was someone out there who could brush you off despite your obvious pain... He finds himself unintentionally pulling you closer.

"Listen to me, whoever thinks you're worth less to them than anything else doesn't deserve you. Not one bit. If it were me, I would spend every day of my life making sure you feel every bit of adoration you deserve." He surprises himself with this sudden declaration, but when you look up at him with eyes full of such hope he can't bring himself to retract what he said.

"...You think s-so...?" With all the tenderness you dreamt of, he takes your chin in his hands, wiping away the drops of blood still there.

"If that doesn't convince you, than perhaps I should show you..." You didn't know what he meant until you felt his lips gentle meet yours. He could taste the copper tinged petals on your lips but he didn't care.

He didn't find any roses after that.

[hansoulo]

you’re just a bottomless pit

part one of “Pillar of Salt”

Pairing: Boba Fett/Princess!Reader (she/her pronouns, no Y/N)

Warnings: NSFW - explicit language, allusions to violence, discussions of mild harassment, mentions of being royalty, kissing, choking, light non-descriptive smut, slight elements of dubcon, boba’s a big dick gotta be what you have amirite

Word Count: 3.5k

A/N: this is empire strikes back boba when he was just fucking around and finding out so i took a lot of liberties with canon don’t @ me. i offer u this picture as a helpful visual aid. merry christmas xx

༓ series masterlist ༓ 

Darth Vader was to be a house guest, and you promptly dunked your head underneath your bathwater.

The perfumed pool burbled for a few seconds while you groaned, listless and in the throes of dramatics, but your attendant only clucked in sympathy. Mila was long accustomed to your disdain for the Imperials who had come to occupy more and more of the palace. So, it seemed, was everyone except the Imperials.

After a long moment you emerged from below the water, droplets of it clinging to your face and trailing into your mouth. “Another Lord?” you asked incredulously, groaning even louder when the servant nodded.

You swam the two short strokes it took to go from one end of the small pool to the other, then floated bare on your back and stared up at the vaulted ceiling. “Is he the one with all the strange…” motioning towards your mouth, you made a vague gesture. “Apparatus?”

“I believe so, your Highness.”

Humming noncommittally, you let your gaze trail off for a moment and stood rightside up again before returning to the bath’s edge. Its intricate tiles were cluttered with bottles, little glass tinctures and oils and soaps that all wrapped themselves around the room in a heady, heavy incense. You inhaled deeply and sighed. Lord Vader with the strange apparatus.

You couldn’t remember a time before your father, the sovereign ruler of Quas Killam, was a puppet for the permanently stationed General and a yes-man for Emperor Palpatine. Then again, you supposed it wasn’t really his fault his planet just happened to be Mid-Rim and full of exactly what the Empire needed. Being a yes-man was probably the only thing keeping his planet intact during the civil war that was supposedly raging right now.

But it was hard to feel sympathy for a man who dressed you up like a paper doll and never let your mother talk.

A soapy sponge was brought up against your back, smelling of lavender. Closing your eyes, you let Mila’s motherly hands scrub at your shoulders and arms until the skin tingled in a pleasant burn.

You picked at the tile grouts with a polished fingernail, head swimming with rows and rows of grey uniforms and white shelled armor. “Wonder why they’re here this time,” you said, speaking softly to no one in particular.

“Princess, if I may...” the older woman began.

“You may.”

“I believe they’re building another weapons factory to supply the Empire, in the north fields. Lord Vader was invited to oversee its induction.”

You kicked your legs lazily in the water, half-asleep and lulled into slowness by the refresher’s warm steam. “And I suppose he’s bringing along an entourage?” you asked, already knowing the answer. They always did, those Imperial sorts. It was just a question of how many and for how long they decided to stay, having taken any real power from your family royalty years ago after they’d discovered the trinium mines your planet was known for.

Your title had rotted of its relevance, made even lesser by the fact that you were the youngest daughter of seven. Your infant brother was being groomed for ventriloquism and you, you were being groomed for obsoletion.

Mila’s hands, roughened by years of laundry and lye soap, rubbed warm oils into your skin. “There was talk of a bounty hunter, your Highness.”

Your eyes shot open.

A bounty hunter?

 ⫸ ——— ——————————————————————————— ⫷

You saw him a few weeks later, in the flurry of transport arrivals and mindless, droning ceremony. It was only a flash of his helmet, but it was enough to keep your imagination spinning for days.

Whispers from entreating servants and talk from stormtroopers that couldn’t keep their mouths shut had informed you of his reputation, his station, and his name. Boba Fett.

A particularly loose-lipped security droid regaled you with rumors of his being hired by Lord Vader, hunting a man named Han out in the Outer Rim. Quas Killam was on their way, apparently, good for information and heavy on the underworld dealings you’d always been shielded from. Truthfully, you didn’t much care. You knew no one got close to the Empire without blood on their hands. Whether they be kings or bounty hunters.

When you actually talked to the man, having been caught trying to eavesdrop on the chamber meeting he happened to be exiting the moment you leaned your ear against the door, any delusions of decorum were shattered the moment he opened his mouth. “Out of the way.”

You bristled, gathering up your skirts in a huff as you stepped away. Rude.

He was taller than you thought he’d be. Taller and broader than he looked before back on the cargo bay, a mere smudge in your peripheral vision. Now that he was alone save for you in the cavernous hallway, his words echoed on the marble tile. So much for espionage.

“My father’s in that meeting,” you replied shortly, putting on airs and doing your best to look like your mother, regal and cold.

Boba only stood there, thumbing the notches of his blaster until he caught the thin sparkle of the diadem crowning your head. A scoff, dismissive. “Then out of the way, princess.”

It wasn’t the title that bothered you. After all, it’s not like he was wrong. It was the way he said it. It was… it was patronizing! Condescending. Absolute inappropriate to a person of your station.

And, if you were being honest with yourself, more than a little attractive.

You shifted your weight onto one hip, scowling. “Don’t call me that.”

A low chuckle rumbled in his chest, static-y and made even rougher by his helmet. “What? Princess.”

Stars, you heard that word a million times a day for a million different reasons. His saying it shouldn’t have felt so warm in your mouth.

Before you could volley back a reply, something equally biting and smarmy, the double doors he stood in front of began to groan open again.

“Better scram, little one.” Boba jerked his head towards the sound of your father’s advancing footsteps. “Daddy’s coming.”

⫸ ——— ——————————————————————————— ⫷

You often dreamed about what it’d be like to leave. Your title. Your station. All the bloody bores that came along with it.

But you had never even been outside the palace grounds. Probably never would, unless your father found someone willing to marry a low-ranking princess and hoisted you over their shoulder, a piece for a game you were never taught and never allowed to play. You’d already resigned yourself to that fact and half-way convinced yourself you were okay with it. But prisons were still prisons. Even if they were made of silk.

On the eve of Lord Vader's departure, everyone in the palace was preoccupied. Your father was most likely schmoozing some Imperial officer. Your mother, in bed with yet another headache. Your governess spent the day preening over your younger brother and your handmaiden was nowhere to be seen. You had a sneaking suspicion she was with one of the guards in a dark hallway.

So you slipped out behind a servant’s entrance and looked for a place to breathe.

Hardly anyone knew about this part of the palace gardens. It was sequestered behind so many winding footpaths and barely-oiled gates that the security droids never bothered patrolling past the main entrance, making it simple to duck underneath the overgrown hedges. The air was quiet; heavy-scented with all the flowers that had been planted and forgotten, left to grow wild across the footpaths and be crushed underneath your feet.

You used to come here quite often, when you were younger and it was easier to slip away. There were long spaces in your memory made of cotton, with hazy sun-soaked afternoons and the fountain that somehow still spouted out streams of cold water from the hands of a statue, some relic of an ancient ruler who had long since died. It was only a small courtyard, made smaller by the thick surrounding hedges and large chunks of cobblestone, but it felt like a whole galaxy to you.

A few minutes passed, then an hour. Two hours. A long, slow, summer stretch of day that just confirmed the fact of your irrelevance. It was filled in only by the mindless reading of your holopad and a few short naps. But better out here alone than stuck back inside, surrounded by those insufferable stormtroopers.

Maybe you spoke too soon, because a few seconds later you were toe-to-toe with Boba Fett, your back pressed to the garden wall. Stars, you didn’t even hear him walk in.

You’d think by now you would have learned to be more careful. Listening and being listened in on.

The helmet tilted up and then down, examining your sour expression. Rolling your eyes, you slumped against the ivy-covered brick, still smarting from your encounter with him a few days prior. “Why are you here?” A haughty, affected wave of your hand. “Were you sent here to fetch me?”

The man straightened out, stepping back from you with a broadening of his already broad shoulders.  Chips in his armor reflected tiny bits of sunlight, little silver speckles on green armor that looked even greener surrounded by wild flora. He hunted people for a living, so the fact that you were made quick work of didn’t really bother you. Still, it was a bit disappointing. Having to go back to the palace was the last thing you wanted.

“The king was concerned for your safety.”

Oh for Maker’s sake. “You mean he was concerned for his reputation.”

“I was told to find you-”

“-and bring me back so I could sit in a parlor and be supervised like a child.”

“Princess,” he sighed.

There was that word again.

A heavy swallow bobbed the lump in your throat, your chest flushed and littering the space between your bodies in a low buzz. You narrowed your eyes, not trusting your own head for something more articulate, and spit the question out. “What?”

He motioned towards the footpath, one hand resting on his belt. “Let’s go.”

You only crossed your arms with a raise of an eyebrow, mind floating an acknowledgement that you were very much acting like a child who needed to be supervised.

“I don’t make a habit of tracking down spoiled royalty.”

No one had ever called you spoiled before.

It was sort of refreshing.

The man cut an imposing figure, you’d give him that. With the helmet and blaster and… armor and such. You weren’t even entirely sure you remembered to put on real shoes before coming out here, still slippered and in stocking feet. What a pair you must’ve made. Incongruous.

You cocked your head and leant against the wall with the fabric of your dress swishing out around your ankles. Caught by warm, humid winds, its layers separated themselves into thin sails before falling down together again. Rhetorical questions were blooming alongside flowers. “Are spoiled royalty below your paygrade, then?”

A tip of his helmet said yes, yes they are.

You supposed as such, with the sort of reputation he had. Skilled bounty hunter. Feared mercenary. Expensive and coveted.

A lap dog.

Maybe there was more in common between you than you thought.

Another breeze whistled past, but the man in front of you was silent. “Well,” you finally spoke, brushing away the imaginary dirt on your dress. “I don’t make a habit of following around strange men, so we’re in a bit of a bind.”

There was an edge in his voice when you moved to walk away, a gloved grip snaking up and resting a deadweight on the back of your neck. You pushed up against him. Lothcat and mouse. You were both, but he was too. “I’m not telling you again, Princess.”

If he called you that again you were sure something would happen. What that something was you had no idea, but the epithet, mocking as it was, felt too good soaking in your sternum for it not to be a catalyst.

A breathy smirk left your lips when your hips canted downward and the gauzed fabric of your dress caught on his cuisse plate. “If I didn’t know any better,” you whispered, reaching to flatten your palms across his chest, “I’d say you almost enjoyed chasing me.”

The hand on your nape tightened and his leather fingerprints dug unspoken threats into your skin that simmered, burning up and down your spine. You faked a pout. “Shame you already caught me, isn’t it?”

The grip surrounding you loosened just slightly, letting your back slide down the garden wall whose ivy-covered stone dragged at your bodice back. A small voice chirped up in the back of your head, chiding you for dirtying the delicate fabric before you willed it away, done with listening.

Boba almost growled. “Don’t push your luck.”

“My, my,” you clucked, shaking your head. Your fingers trailed towards the edges of his helmet and traced stripes where his brow bone would be. They were gold. For vengeance. “Aren’t we feeling insolent today?”

The man underneath the beskar scoffed, the palm that was at the back of your neck now wrapping itself around your outstretched wrist and pulling your hand away. You let out a quiet whine of protest, both at the loss of contact and just to see what it might do to him to hear it. When he stiffened, leaning away with every muscle seeming to tense and release and tense again, you were unreasonably pleased. There was still red blood underneath all that red paint.

Boba’s voice was clipped when he finally replied; the vowels came through strained and raspy. “I could say the same for you.”

Yes, he probably could, couldn’t he?

Then again, maybe your two wrongs could cancel out into being right and not at all compromising.

It’s not like you really did anything erroneous. Well, besides the running away part. But that was par for the course for you. All that was new was… him. And his hands. And his being alone with you. Which could possibly be construed as something wrong and compromising but how wrong could it be, really, if neither of you did anything?

Of course, this all hinged on neither of you doing anything. Compromising.

“Take the helmet off and I’ll go with you,” you offered, knowing how juvenile you sounded. You just wanted to see if he’d hear you. If he’d listen.

He did.

Boot spurs clinked as he stalked towards you, closer than he was before. It was invasive; almost chest to chest with no room for breathing as you were pushed up against the wall again, and you were met with the revelation that whatever you were toying with was probably a really, really bad idea.

Static filled your ears from the husk of his vocoder. “You know I can take you back whether you want to or not.” The roof of your mouth went dry and you remembered how Boba’s palm spanned the entire back of your neck, cradled delicately by leather fingers. He could crush your throat in one hand. Squeeze until you went limp. You wouldn’t be able to stop him. “I don’t need your permission.”

Your thumbs reached up to the lock mechanisms on either side of his head anyway. “I know.”

Fire felt good when you were close enough to be warmed by it. Whether or not you’d be burned was left to be seen.

The helmet lifted with a soft click.

Truth be told, you’re surprised he let you do it.

You dangled the helm almost carelessly by your hip, curling your fingers around the lip of it whilst your other hand stayed hovering near his face. He looked a bit older than you imagined, mid-thirties maybe, scarred and stern-looking. Handsome.

You should’ve stopped while you were ahead but all you wanted—stupid, stubborn, and yearning for a plaything—was to feel the black curls cropped close to his ears. Which probably counted as compromising.

Without the modulator Boba’s voice was deeper, the rumbling kind of richness that was used to giving orders and used to having them followed. It bore down on you as a concrete weight. “I’m not a kind man, princess.”

He forgot that you were used to giving orders too.

The coarse material of his collar chafed your palm as you held it, gripping a lifeline, and tilted your mouth up to his ear. The softness of your voice disguised your intention. It sounded innocent when you whispered it. Gentle, even. “I never said I wanted you to be.”

His lips bruised you and tasted like salt.

It was all tongue, teeth, barely cloaked violence, pressed until your throat felt raw and your heartbeat dropped below the ground to join whatever was left of your dignity. When your knees buckled, a gloved hand settled large between your shoulder blades.

You didn’t think your first kiss would be like this.

Hypothetically it would have been clinical, fumbling and awkward in your own inexperience. Out in front of a crowd somewhere after you met the eyes of a stranger at the altar. Or maybe in secret, like it was now, with a tryst of boyhood and a peck on the cheek.

Boba Fett was a stranger, but he wasn’t a boy. And this wasn’t a peck on the cheek.

You didn’t realize he had lifted you up by your hips until you were placed back down again, his having crossed the few steps from the wall to the nearby fountain with arms firmly wrapped around your middle and not so much as a strain of his hips. His strength should have scared you. It did scare you, a little, but the same hands that had gripped the blaster still at his side were deceptively gentle around your waist. You let yourself be brought down by his bended knees.

“Easy there,” Boba said, still crouching on the ground beside you as you slowly lay back on the lip of the waterwork, white noise burbling from the quiet fixtures. The flat, curved slab surrounding the shallow pool was wide enough that you needn’t worry about balancing, speckled gray stone warmed from weather and soon by skin. There was one moment where Boba allowed you to catch your breath and then it was gone, knocked out of your lungs in another assiduous touch.

“Poor thing,” he mocked, sardonic even as he cooed gently into your open mouth. Your back arched in an unwitting presentation and blood pounded a drumbeat in your ears. All you could see was Boba; his face and his shoulders and his arms braced beside your head, leaning over your horizontal form. Like you were prey. Maybe you were. “What would your father say if he saw you like this?”

He wouldn’t be able to say anything. Would stand there, mouth agape and his eyes doing that strange bulging thing it always did when you did anything besides sew embroidery squares. Fainting wasn’t out of the question. It would be ridiculously fun to watch.

You huffed, chasing Boba’s mouth with your own when he shifted above you. The midday sun hung high, edging the bounty hunter’s tanned face in white. You could see your own eyes in the reflection of his pupils, could smell his warm skin. His canines scraped your collarbones. Everything was fast, blurry, and burning.

Stars above.

The whole situation was ridiculous. Twenty minutes ago you’d never been kissed on the mouth and now you were letting a killer-for-hire grope you like you were a back-alley harlot.

It wouldn’t end well. You’d curse after he left and hate yourself for letting him stay, because his staying would be brief and shallow and cruel, but right now, lying on the edge of a fountain with sunshine on your neck and a low voice in your ear, staying was the only thing you wanted him to do.

What an egregious lapse in judgement.

What a beautiful, electrifying lapse in judgement.

“You’re so—” a slurred pitchiness invaded your vocal chords, coating everything in bitter syrup. Your jaw was starting to numb from unforgiving lips. “—so rude,” you choked out, mind struggling to find footing amid its own dizziness. You felt like an overheating droid, full of bad code and faulty wiring that made your words and your actions discordant because even as you insulted the man, your hands were curling around his shoulders to pull him closer. “Always so rude, so… so mean to me. Makes me want—” you panted, voice breaking off into a whine when a calloused palm slid across the back of your thigh, “...want…”

His accent curled the consonants into a dance. “Want what, Princess?”

Expectant in their heaviness but teasing a smile in their lined corners, Boba’s eyes were the color of charred umber. Squirming in his arms, you nosed your face into the junction of his collarbones. “Want you,” you finally mumbled, admitting it in one long, pathetic exhale.

His promise had sharp teeth.

“You can have me.”

[kisstheassassins]

Hi there😊May I request a HC with Connor and SO who is an assassin in The Tyranny of King, but in this SO doesn't remember him when he finds her in the same prison as Kanen'tó:kon hanging by her wrists being tortured by a bluecoat(similar to what happened to Leliana in DA Inquisition). Also she would the same person he originally knew, but cold & kind of emotionless. Not to mention she wouldn't trust him either. Lol sorry that got dark, but thank you for taking the time to read this!

I hope this is to your liking 😊

Also im using (p/n) as your preferred pronouns.

The two men had finally been liberated from the prison they were held in, but Kanen had one last thing to do here before he could finally leave.

There they were at a four-way cross section of the jail, with Kanen looking around at each hallway as if he were trying to remember something.

"What is it?" Ratonhnhaké:ton asked his friend; his hand was pulling on Kanen's arm to make him hurry, but he pulled away.

"We cannot leave yet," the other man says, running down one of the halls. If Connor hadn't trusted his friend he would have gone the other way, but he follows close behind.

They find themselves at a closed door, and behind it a voice can be heard. It's cold and harsh, and upon creaking the door open Kanen realizes its not just one person, but two. You hang by your wrists from the ceiling by chains, feet barely hitting the floor as you gasp for each breath.

"I know that there were more of you," the guard says harshly. He has some sort of blunt weapon in his hand to strike you when he thinks you're either lying, or doesn't like the answer you give him. Your face is bloodied and bruised.

"Beat me all you want," you growl, "I'm not saying a damn thing. You and your false King can rot in hell."

Your voice rang through Ratonhnhaké:tons ears like a cannon firing just beside him. His breath quickens as he and Kanen rush in just before the guard strikes you, startling him.

However, before they can reach him your legs wrap around his neck tightly, using your chains to lift you up and choke the man with your limbs. You apply more pressure with each passing minute, and eventually jerk your hips sideways to result the sound of his neck snapping. His body slumps to the floor, as well as your legs. You're exhausted.

Kanen moves the dead body to the side and searches for the key while Ratonhnhaké:ton looks you over. He's still trying to process that he even found you, let alone in this prison. And the state of you; it made him sick to see you so beaten. He always promised to protect you and to prevent this type of thing.

"Took your bloody time," you say, an exasperated smile gracing your lips. Kanen unlocks the braces one by one, and Ratonhnhaké:ton helps you stand when each hand is free. You can't help but fall to the floor, and he helps you down gently. Kanen kneels on the other side of you.

"I don't particularly enjoy leaving my friends behind," he says. You rub your wrists and wince at the pain; no doubt these bruises would be here a while.

Your eyes meet the other man's, suspicion building up the more he stares. His eyes are soft and his mouth is partially open like he wants to say something.

"Friend of yours?" you ask, looking up at Kanen. He nods.

"More like a brother. This is Ratonhnhaké:ton."

You both lock eyes again, and a sense if warmth and familiarity fill your chest. It confuses you; you know you have never met this man in your life, so why are you so..... fuzzy?

You nod at him in greeting.

"(Y/n)," you say, and even though he knows it, he smiles to you anyway.

Kanen and Ratonhnhaké:ton help you stand up and keep you close to support your legs, as it was somewhat difficult to walk after the beatings you received.

"Go on ahead," Ratonhnhaké:ton says, "I'll help (p/n)."

With just you two now following a ways behind Kanen, Connor has a close grip on you and you can't help but notice how closely he watches you. You don't have to look to know, but you can feel his eyes on you.

You try to break the wall with small talk.

"Thanks for doing this," you say, "uh.... " A laugh escapes you. "Sorry, I don't know how to say your name."

He knew it was coming, but he played a long.

"What would you like to call me then?" he asks softly. Your eyes meet his once again and you chuckle.

"My mentor," you begin, "he had a son. Died when he was only six." A pause. "Is Connor okay?"

The man smiles and nods, fixing his grip on your back. You fall in closer to him as your legs are still weak.

"It's perfect," he chuckles, but you weren't able to feel how his heart ached and yearned for you at that moment. "How about we get out of here, hm?"

-----

Benjamin Franklin had been attending to your wounds on your hands and wrists, while the other two who saved you leaned over a table discussing their next move for the revolution over Washington. You can't help but stare at Connor and wonder why he felt so familiar to you, but you never met the man.

"Something bothering you, (y/n)? " Ben asks. You keep your eyes focused.

"How come I've never met Connor," you say. Your friend looks to where you are looking.

"You mean Ratonhnhaké:ton?"

Your eyes glance to Ben and then back.

"We settled on Connor since I can't pronounce his name," you say.

Ben finishes up wrapping the bandages around the cut on your palm, watching you wince as he tucks the fabric in.

"Well," he begins, "I don't think Kanen'tó:kon expected to find his friend here in the midst of all this. He went to war with Washington even before Ratonhnhaké:ton and his mother did."

You sit up off the table and pulls your sleeves down over your bandages.

"Do you trust him?"

"He's been very helpful so far," he states, "in fact, I believe he's done more for us in the past week than we have in a month. I dont think you have anything to worry about."

----

A brief war table meeting later, and everyone has departed to complete their duty for the day, leaving you to rest and Connor to go over what he had missed over the past few weeks. You find yourself beside him staring at the wall of photos and drawings that you and your colleagues had collected for evidence and tracking. Connor stares up at Washington, eyes malice and eager to find the man.

"You seem to have a personal vendetta with him," you say, more so than we do."

Connor looks to you and then back at the wall, exhaling sharply.

"He has done a lot of harm and damage to my people, as well as the rest of the world. My home was burned, my people enslaved."

He stops a moment to collect himself and take a deep breath, almost preparing himself for what he had to say next.

"He... murdered my mother. My father."

You swallow the lump in your throat; people were lucky enough to survive Washington's wrath, let alone escape it. A majority of those here weren't so lucky.

"I'm sorry," you say softly.

A few moments pass and you can't help but stare at him, that feeling familiarity hitting you dead in the chest again. Your palms are sweaty too, you notice, and you're chewing the inside of your cheek. Connor glances your way and turns his head when he sees you.

"What?" he says. You exhale sharply.

"Are you sure we haven't met before?" He shakes his head. "I feel like I've seen you before and its driving me mad."

Connor shifts in his spot, thinning his lips and staring at you, waiting, as if he wanted to speak. But he doesn't. Instead he watches you get closer.

"I don't normally trust people so easily," you say, "but seeing Kanen being so open and close to you, I feel like I can too. Don't take me the wrong way Connor, but you feel real familiar to me and I don't know why."

He smiles sheepishly, memories if you flooding his mind back in.... his original world. All of this surely had to be a nightmare.

"Perhaps we should work together," he begins, "see where this goes from here."

You smile at him and he does the same for you, making you chuckle. You pat his arm and make way upstairs; he is in close pursuit.

He prayed to his ancestors nothing happened to you after this.

[solara-bean]

 Grimmjow Headcanons Plus a Few x S/O ones 

( pretty sure I read some of these somewhere but I forgot so here's a self indulgent list :)

He died in his early twenties so he's still pretty young mentally but physically as a hollow he's old as hell

He's European

He takes a lot of naps in random places such as the roof of Las Noches

In fact he does a lot of cat like stuff and doesn’t realize it

He can purr but rarely and it’s mostly in his sleep 

When he became an arrancar he had long hair similar to his release form. It kept getting in the way so he cut it

he doesn’t like wearing clothes

Him and his fraccion use to sleep close together in case they were ambushed by other adjuchas and still did even after they became arrancars

They didn’t think much of it. Except Di Roy. He’d say it was weird and ‘un-masculine’ to which Grim would tell him to shut up and go to sleep after laying an arm or a leg over his face. 

Di Roy would also occasionally guilt trip him

Grimmjow: You’re too weak to fight with us.

Di Roy: I wouldn’t be if someone didn’t bite my face off. 

Grimm:..........fine! do whatever you want. See if I care. 

He was actually much closer to them than he let on

Most of the epsada knew it. Especially after Syazel threatened to experiment on them since they were ‘expendable.’ He did his best to avoid Grimmjow after that.

He only really got to grieve of their deaths when the war against Aizen ended

As much as he genuinely enjoyed fighting Ichigo it was also a distraction from all the pain he tried to burry

Harribel and Nelliel helped him with his grief

They became sort of friends afterwards tho he still tries to fight them both on a weekly basis 

Refers to Pantera with female pronouns 

One perk of most of Los Noches’ inhabitants being defeated is the nearly infant amount of space. So he was able to choose his own room

He keeps it surprisingly tidy aside from the nicknacks he’s hoarded from wandering around Hueco Mundo

His bed is full of pillows as a substitute of having a pack to sleep with

When asked he’ll say its for comfort

Nelliel: Have you seen my pillow? 

Grimmjow: * sitting on it in his pillow pile* No.

He steals everyone’s stuff now and then but mostly Nel’s cuz he likes to mess with her ( insert low key sibling energy )

He talks to animals like people

Grimmjow: I told you to stop crossing the street at the red light idiot!

Cat: Meow

Grimm: Don’t talk back to me you little shit!!

Hangs out at Urahara’s place when he’s in the living world and not trying to fight Ichigo

Likes human food. Especially meat.

Grimmjow: *eating bacon for the first time* hmm tastes like hollows but better

Ichigo:.....I’m sorry what??!!

Was dared that he couldn’t beat Yoruichi at twister. He won five crates of snacks to bring back to Hueco Mundo ( may or may not have shared them cuz “ they gave me too much so take it or I’ll throw it out” )

Says things around the characters in the living world about his terrible experience under Aizen’s rule like it’s normal

Grimmjow: *having another rematch with Ichigo* Damn that almost hurt as much as Tousen slicing my arm off

Ichigo: *pauses the fight* Tousen did WHAT?!!

Becomes friends with Ichigo but won’t admit it.

Somewhat apologizes to Orihime and Rukia for what he did. But not Ichigo cuz he’ll do it all again but with less deadly intent.

Learns how to cook

Likes just about any kind of movie/show. He isn’t picky 

Would get his 6 tattoo edited to something else if it bothered him

Would freakin die for Kazui!!! 

Here are the S/O ones:

Is pansexual so gender isn’t an issue

Prefers someone who can beat him up but is ok with a human if he feels a very strong connection to them

Doesn’t really have a physical type honestly 

Will admire things about their appearance cuz he likes it on them and not in general

Will be in complete denial about his feelings at first 

Like “hollows aren’t meant to love” and all that ish 

Makes up excuses to hangout with them but it’s mostly for his own benefit

“ I don’t like them. They just have a nice movie collection.” “ I don’t like them. They’re just nice to spar with.” “ I don’t like them. They’re just nice to talk to.” “I don’t like them. They just make me feel safe when I sleep next to them.” 

Gives them random things he’s found when wondering around Hueco Undo’s desserts like gems and cool sharp bones

Let's them hold and even use Pantera

Starts to unconsciously turn off his hierro when he’s with them. It causes a lot of fliching and embarrassing gasps when they touch him since he’s not use to feeling so much

Did I mention he’s touch starved?

Like a lot.

Holding his hand for too long would literally kill him

Once he’s gotten use to feeling something other than pain from another person he starts to let them touch him more. Like hugs. Lots of hugs. 

He even lets them rub his release form’s cat ears

Then here come the purrs. Louder than they’ve ever been before! It startles them both. He denied it but the blush gave him away.

He’ll do his best to purr more often since his s/o likes it so much. Such as when they’re cuddled up for a nap. Though he doesn’t really have to try.

Is confused as to why they like to squish his toe beans but lets them do it anyway

Wraps his tail around them in his release form

Will let them braid his long hair

Will also let them paint his claws as well as put makeup on him

He’s a total pushover ( insert the ‘please for me’ meme )

Is very protective of them

“ Why are you sad? Do I need to kill someone?”

If asked will follow his s/o when they’re out at night so they feel safe. Potential muggers? Thrown by an unknown force. Stalker? Punched by an unknown force. Cat callers in a car? Car gets flipped over by an unknown force.

Eventually no one bothers them at all cuz word goes around that they’re protected by a ghost or something else supernatural.

They’re of the few that can call him by a nickname and survive. Grimm, Grimmy, Grimmykins, Grimmy-kun, Kitty, Kitten, Catboy, Stinky cat, Baby boy, Baby boi, Big guy, Tough guy, My Arancar, My love, My one and only, Handsome, Blueberry. Literally anything is fine with him.

But call him My King and he’s done for. Dead. A second time. Deceased all over again. His heart will reform just to burst out of existence. 

Takes them to Hueco Mundo a few times 

Makes a pillow fort with them with his hoard of pillows 

Will be skeptical as to why they like him and won’t be surprised if they get tired of him and break up

But oh no! They’re in it for the long run! You’re stuck with them Grimmykins:)

Would most likely say I love you without even realizing it till later

Grimm: *blushes* F*CK!!

Harribel: *pauses the meeting* Is there something wrong?

Grimm: I told Y/n that I love them before I left without realizing it! *puts his face in his hands and groans* I’m so screwed.

Nel: Well it’s about damn time!

Harribel: Congrats Grimmjow

Grimm: *groans and blushes some more*

If he really loves them he’ll find a way to weaken his immortality so they can grow old together ( yes it’ sappy but he figures he’ll get bored after they long gone )

Might go to Mayuri for help and becomes his lab rat in return. Won’t tell his s/o till it’s done so they won’t try to stop him.

It’s not fun. Like at all ( insert angsty fit energy here ). But it works and as an added bonus him and his s/o can have kids if they’d like

A great dad. Incredibly supportive and loving. Mess with them and you’re dead. Or at least scarred for life. No one messes with his cubs.  

Grimm: Isn’t it weird that our kids are best friends?

Ichigo: No. We’re friends.

Grimm: I tried to kill you.

Ichigo: Who hasn’t?

Grimm: I’ll drink to that.

Ichigo: That’s a juice box.

Grimm: Have you seen my kids? The last time I wasn’t sober they ceroed the roof off and beat up a hollow. There’s no way I’m missing that again.

[elizabethemerald]

Good gay shit prompt :)

Kingsley's having identity issues in the Blooming Grove.

The mighty Nein sit in a circle with Kingsley after everything and go around and just tell them their Gender and Sexuality Stories.

Ok, you lot!” Kingsley called to the gathered Nein.

They were all spread out around the Blooming Grove. Jester making flower crowns with Yasha. Beau and Caleb deep in conversation with Astrid and Eadwulf, recording Trent’s many crimes. Fjord and Caduceus were meditating near the pond while Essek was busy gardening near them. Veth and her family were playing together near the temple.

At his call, all their heads turned towards him. A few of them stood, hands reaching for weapons as they looked around for any threat. When Kingsley sat with a thump on the grass and gestured them all over they relaxed again, all of the official members of the Mighty Nein gathering close to him.

“So I’m still trying to figure out who I am. And I think I need some help.” Kingsley said. There were a mixed bag of reactions to this statement. A few filled with compassion, a few marked by grief, and not a a one, without a look of love on their face. He’s sure that they will be willing and able to help him. “First of all, why the fuck are all of you so sexy, and second of all what the fuck is going on in my pants?”

There is a second’s pause. Then a spreading laugh goes around the party. Jester immediately plops down, her skirts billowing out around her. The rest of the Nein dropped to the soft grass as well, smiles on their faces.

“That’s a complicated question, liebling.” Caleb said with a smile. “Perhaps it would be easiest if we explained our orientations and identities to give you some examples?”

“I’ll start. You see,” Jester started excitedly. “I’m trans. That means that when I was born my momma thought I might have been a boy Tiefling, but I didn’t think that would be any fun at all so instead I’m a girl Tiefling. My momma knew some magic and some potions to help me get this rocking bod. Now I’m the cutest around!” Jester flexed, her tail curling and waving in the air behind her. Fjord, Beau, Caleb, Yasha, Essek, all nodded in agreement. Even Kingsley couldn’t deny that. “And I’m bisexual, so that means I’m attracted to people who are my gender and people who are not!”

Jester’s wide smile showed off her fangs and caused her soft cheeks to squeeze her eyes almost shut. She looks around at the others, then motions for someone else to take their turn. Caleb coughs and blushes and he fiddles with the grass at his feet, then starts talking.

“Well I am a male, I think that I have always been male. Um. I’m bisexual as well. So I’m attracted to a lot of people.” He glances around, his eyes lingering on where Astrid and Eadwulf are for a moment, then making eye contact with first Essek, then Jester, before blushing completely red. “I also might say that I am able to love more than one person at a time.”

“That’s because you’re so full of love CayLeb.” Jester said. “Didn’t I say that you have a big heart?”

Caleb’s blush matched his hair now. Fjord decided to spare Caleb and cleared his own throat to take the spot light off him.

“Uh, I’m male as well. Like Jester they thought something different when I was a kid at the orphanage, but they were wrong. The blessing of the Wildmother really helped my body match what I looked like in my mind. As for sexuality, I’m pretty flexible, I guess, but I haven’t thought too much about it.”

Caduceus seemed to notice that wasn’t the whole truth but didn’t mention anything. Jester had the widest shit eating grin on her face.

“Flexible huh?” She said, causing Fjord to blush up to his ear tips.

“For me, I like what all of you have going on,” Caduceus said, a calm smile on his face. “Its not really for me though. I don’t really want any of that.”

“Not even for romance, without sex?”

“Nope.”

“What about your gender?”

“My what?” Caduceus looked confused. Then just shrugged and shook his head. “No, none for me thanks.”

Beau gave a short bark of a laugh before growing serious, giving the question her full attention. “Honestly I’ve been a lesbian my whole life, and that’s not going to change. And for my gender, uh, call that lesbian as well. I’m certainly not interested in whatever my parents had in mind for my gender.”

Yasha softly rubbed Beau’s shoulders, the motion delicate for someone as large as she is. “I’m a lesbian as well. You- uh your brother, before…” She stuttered to a stop for a moment. “Before I met any of you, in my tribe we didn’t really use pronouns like they do in the Empire. I use she and they. That makes me happy.”

Beau kissed Yasha’s shoulder, stars shining in her eyes.

Essek, emboldened by the others talking about their experiences, sexualities, and genders, sat forward next, dirt still clinging to his rose patterned gloves.

“Uh, there was a time where I would have agreed with Caduceus, about my feelings toward romance, or sexuality, but some how this group has wormed their way into my heart. I believe the word in Common is demisexual.”

Caleb smiled at him, and gave him a subtle wink.

“I guess that makes me the token het of this group.” Veth said derisively. “Actually I don’t know. I never questioned my gender, or sexuality or anything before the goblins, and it felt strange to do it after. Put me down as questioning for now, and supportive for ever.”

“Does that help at all?” Jester said, bringing the conversation back to Kingsley, who had been watching all of them with interest, his own tail waving lazily behind him. “That’s all of our identities. Is there any other questions you have?”

“Oh I’m sure I’ll have many more questions throughout my life.” Kingsley practically purred, resting his chin on his hand, his elbow on his knee. “But that does help me sort myself out a little more. I think I’ll take a bit from what you’re working with magic man, then if you don’t mind, a little bit of gender from all of you.”

Jester clapped her hands, smiling, as her tail waved back and forth, and Kingsley smiled, and the rest of the Nein smiled with him.

[silent-dragon]

For the "Ship Me With ____" Post! I like these kinda things and I'm here to join! Let me know if I did this wrong! -ᄒᴥᄒ- (I can't access your OC's list so I'm going on vague descriptions or just their image in your pinned...)

I think Neir would look kind of cute with Cater. He has an Idia Shroud vibe that sort of rubs off like sibling/family tree vibes, so a sunshine individual (who also has their own hidden secrets) would match. Like: "Someone will die..." "Of fun! ... And this knife we brought."

Joy and Riddle are kind of obvious, since it looks like it can be a joyous yet almost fickle relationship; in a good way! Like, the MC watched them grow closer like canonical Trey and Riddle did after having a wedge in their relationship (Riddle's past and Trey's guilt). What I know of the rabbit is that he follows the rules and does venture too far exploring, but he's always on time in the end. Maybe?

Also, Trey and Joy is a no-brainer (I love Trey, I'm biased)!

【I don't know your OC's well so I'll stop here but I want to read all of their bios! ✨】

Thank you so much for this i enjoyed reading it alot.

Neir

The vibe you got from Neir is spot on cause if you see her full design its clear she had Shroud family ties. Originally she was Idia & Othro's mother but i made her when I didn't know if parent ocs of canon characters were ok or not. I determined it wasnt so I changed her story to being the Astrology professor everyone hates the class of and fairy like Tinkerbell who followed Crowley around all these years. Also she is genderless so pronouns don't matter to her but most see Neir as a woman usually students the staff is mixed. I use she since habit from when she was parent oc.

(In her design she has the triangles like seen on Idia's stuff,etc. I decided to keep em on her after restory as she just got her fashion from his homeland.)

Cater is one who enjoys her class so she already does favor him over most since her class is so disliked. Neir doesnt understand the concept of romantic love but rather motherly love. If she finally decides she tired of Crowley and follow a new boy it highly likely would be Cater. Their dynamic would be as you said since Neir is more moonlight & repressed alot.

Joy

Joy with Riddle is super fitting. Joy actually is twist of the rabbit's watch not the rabbit himself which i know sounds weird. Joy just a time nerd so super organized and has everything down to a schedule planned. Riddle would adore this im sure that everything goes according to plans he has made and on time. Unplanned stuff and time wasters do cause Joy issues and eventually ppl would tell him relax with his schedules and time management but he can learn to add such things as more fun in as Riddle learns to aswell together.

Ive actually never thought of Joy & Trey. Would they work out? They do have similar brotherly thing as Joy has tons of siblings. I feel Joy may work with him but might find toothbrushing to be a time waste if done for over 5mins and that may make em have a moment lol.

Ty again for this i am working on tags for my ocs so easier to find all their stuff ive posted. Also for interacting with me despite the ban on my blog felt like no one wants to chat cause of it.

[iwaisa]

request. trynna think of a request for u rn 🧏‍♀️ how ab tsukki w a best friend who’s so grade conscious bc ppl have high expectations of them n one day she breaks down bc she b afraid of failure n he’s like .......ok ill comfort them bc theyre my best friend but im also secretly in love w them trope😝 definitrly not because this reminds me of a certain someone who is not myself and i definitrly dont need to hear this😭 - @tsukisemi​

a/n. sue you are a GENIUS I LOVE YOU AND YOUR BIG BRAIN. i absolutely adore best friends to lovers/childhood friends to lovers tropes they make me so happy ugh once again THANK YOU

► now playing...

- pairing. tsukishima x female reader (pronouns not specifically stated, but there is ma’am lol)

- warnings. make out session! lol oops. suggestive content

- word count. 1.8k+

it was a friday evening, and you found yourself studying at kei tsukishima’s house. again. no matter how many times you tried to convince him to do other things while hanging out in the warmth of his bedroom, he always insisted that academics came before baking and movies.

the two of you have been friends since your last year of junior high, after yamaguchi was too busy looking up at his tall companion to realize another figure was about to collide with him. the two of you made contact with the ground, before jumping up to apologize quickly.

tsukishima found himself instantly infatuated with you - you were gorgeous. your breathtaking eyes, the way your school uniform seemed to fit just perfectly, the way he imagined your smaller hands and fingers slotting in between his - he was absolutely intrigued. yamaguchi would say love at first sight, the taller male would call him ridiculous.

the three of you instantly clicked, with you and yamaguchi being the more talkative ones of the trio. tsukishima acted as a parental figure, scolding you two constantly for doing things you weren’t supposed to.

upon overhearing a conversation with sensei that you would be heading to karasuno for high school - the same place tsukishima and yamaguchi were planning on going - he let out a breath he never knew he was holding in. he continued listening to sensei urging you to plan on going somewhere more academic based - like shiratorizwa or fukurōdani. you put it simply that you would rather go somewhere more balanced. sensei was hesitant before he approved of your plans.

you had always been good at doing homework and classwork, but you weren’t so good at taking tests. they intimidated you, making you worry that you would end up receiving something lower than a B+. tsukishima and yamaguchi knew of course, since the two of you held frequent study sessions at each others’ houses. this tradition carried on even when the three of you made it into karasuno, just not as frequently due to the boys’ volleyball practices.

today, however, yamaguchi was helping yachi teach kageyama and hinata english since tsukishima blatantly refused. the two of you headed back to his house, and instantly began flipping through your textbooks. he was quietly scribbling words and numbers on his papers, seemingly flying through assignments. you were sat on his bed, stuck on one section in particular.

“why the hell is ap chemistry so hard?” you sighed, scratching your scalp. tsukishima turned his head to see you rubbing your eyes, which adorned deep blue bags underneath. he sighed, putting his pencil down as he walked to sit on the edge of the bed alongside you. he looked over your shoulder, reading the complex chemical equations. “you know this one, l/n. you got it.” 

you shook your head quickly, “no, i don’t tsukki. i have no idea what i’m doing and sensei literally didn’t even teach us this. see, this is why i’m glad i didn’t end up going to an academy because this would be ten times harder. i hate that people are always assuming i can handle this with ease. i can’t.” you finished, blinking back tears.

tsukishima sighed, rubbing his eyes underneath his glasses before readjusting them to focus on the question. he began rubbing his finger over the numbers, slowly explaining each process. you were surprised he was being kind, but you didn’t want to take this soft moment for granted. you simply nodded your head, hurriedly scribbling down what he was saying in your notebook.

“tell you what,” he turned, looking into your eyes. “if you can do these next four questions by yourself, i’ll give you something i’ve been meaning to for a while.” you tilted your head, “tsukki, my birthday was months ago.” he chuckled, getting up to sit in his chair, which was now facing you. “i’m aware.” the two of you stared at each other for a while, before you turned your attention back to your textbook.

using tsukishima’s explanations and whatever strategies you learned from sensei, you flew through two of the questions with ease, getting stuck on the third one. tsukishima explained once more, telling you to use a different equation for the next two. you nodded, finally understanding.

the next two questions were hard to figure out, but you finally got through them. you placed your pencil in between the crease of the pages, looking up to tsukisima expectedly. when he didn’t move, you were confused. did he just trick you into doing homework?

tsukishima gulped, attempting to calm his erratic heart and shaky legs. was he ready for this? no, he wasn’t. but even as yamaguchi said; he’s been putting this off for long enough. he knew he liked you, but had no idea just what to do about it. he knew he would be jeopardizing your friendship in some way, but tsukishima couldn’t deny that he wanted some sort of affectionate skinship to happen between the two of you.

he released his lower lip from his teeth before shaking his head. he stood up, walking towards you with slight hesitation. he plopped himself next to you, your shoulders brushing against each other. tsukishima lifted his glasses off his nose before leaning forward, pressing a quick peck to your lips.

your mouth fell open, and your eyes widened more than you believed they ever could. your face exploded with heat, and you began spewing out incoherent words. he stood up, returning to his seat. “tsukki?” you asked in disbelief. “yes?” he responded, seemingly unphased. “w-what was that?” he watched you run your middle and forefinger over your lips, “my gift.” your jaw dropped open once more, earning a rare chuckle from your blond friend. or maybe, not a friend anymore.

“if you finish the next four questions, i’ll give you another one. if you want,” his last words were muffled by the back of his hand. you smiled at the sight; tsukishima, the most stoic boy you’ve ever met, was embarrassed. nonetheless, you were going to earn another kiss from your friend, not to mention the boy you’ve been in love with for the past two years.

you were quick to pick up your pencil, reading the questions as quickly as possible. “and don’t rush either, idiot,” tsukishima jested. you stuck your tongue out at him, feeling your heart flutter as he let out a soft chuckle.

you made sure to complete each question thoroughly, wondering if you would get extra points for doing more work. tsukishima stood over your figure, eyes scanning over each question. he pointed at one, “the equation was right, but check your calculations again.” you sighed, turning back to the book. 

tsukishima bent over, pressing a light kiss atop your head, making you jolt in surprise. he staggered back holding his chin, and you stood up waving your hands frantically. he held his hand up to stop your word-vomit, letting a light chuckle escape his lips.

you pressed your lips in a line, sitting back down. you began calculating the equation once more, finally coming up with the right answer. “there you go. see? you only have four questions left now.” you lifted your chin expectedly, watching him squat in front of you. you pursed your lips as he began to lean in, pressing teasing kisses to both of your cheeks. you groaned in annoyance, before sandwiching his face in between your palms. “stop teasing,” you muttered sternly. “yes ma’am,” he joked, finally closing the distance between you two.

this kiss was a tad bit more passionate, the two of you moving your lips together excitedly. it would’ve been a make out session, if tsukishima had not pulled away with a grin. “last four questions.” he smirked at you before standing up, returning to his chair once more.

these questions were possibly the worst. there were multiple equations in each separate question, and it left you wondering why someone would ever want to major in chemistry. tsukishima watched your face contort into borderline anger, your lower lip between your teeth. he swiftly stood up, placing himself next to you on the bed. he reached his arm around you, rubbing circles into your lower back as you continued writing the wrong equations.

“here,” he spoke up finally, removing the pencil from your grasp. he began writing in a clear fashion which numbers were to be plugged in where, and it finally clicked for you. he glanced at your profile, watching your mouth fall open. he smiled to himself as he watched you solve the equations with ease, his hand never leaving your back.

you finally finished, looking up at the blond with long-awaited anticipation. “you’re eager,” he whispered, his eyes becoming soft. his gaze flickered between yours and your plush lips - the one’s he’s been waiting to feel on his for so long. and the feeling wasn’t disappointing. they felt amazing, and he was on cloud nine. a little voice that sounded like yamaguchi resonated in tsukishima’s head saying, “finally.”

the two of you began moving forward at a slow pace, until you gripped onto his shirt pulling him into you to finally close the gap. this kiss was definitely not like the last ones. this one was ferocious; two pining friends finally earning exactly what they’ve been patiently waiting for. 

tsukishima’s right hand made its way to your hip, prompting you to lay down. he hovered over you, not once pulling away. your tongue brushed against the seam of his lips, and he eagerly allowed your tongue to meet his. your hands began roaming, feeling tsukishima’s pecs. they slowly moved down to his abs, which were rock-solid, much to your surprise.

you gasped as he pulled away to press open-mouthed kisses on your jawline, moving down to your neck. your hands gripped his hair as he sucked on a particular spot that elicited a whine from your throat.

he pulled away, looking down at you with golden irises filled with lust. his gaze fell on the newly formed red spot on your neck, and he sat up pushing his glasses back to rest on the bridge of his nose. “sorry about that,” he whispered, his voice filled with nerves. “don’t be. i liked it,” you smiled, watching his gaze soften for the umpteenth time that day.

“do you like me?” he asked hesitantly. you paused, your eyebrows furrowing in mock confusion. “you know, for one of the smartest in the class, you’re pretty dumb.” he opened his mouth to protest, before you sat up to give him a quick kiss. “yes, i like you.”

his arms wrapped around your waist, pushing you back down onto his bed. “can we cuddle,” he said it as more of a statement than a question. you chuckled, wrapping your arms around his back. “can you be my boyfriend,” you pretend to mock, causing his head to snap up. he nodded hastily before burrowing his face into your chest once more. 

“i love you,” he said, his words muffled by your shirt. “i love you too, kei.” you smiled as you ran your hands through his golden locks, hearing a content sigh escape his lips.

[mistabullets]

Twilight (Kinktober Day #5 - Corruption)

Characters: Takuto Maruki x Reader

Word Count: 3.0k

Summary: You remind Maruki too much of someone.

Content Warning: n/s/f/w, afab reader, fem pronouns, corruption, loss of virginity, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, teacher/student relations, doctor/patient relations, angst, dubcon/noncon cw, mind manipulation/alteration cause of maruki’s persona, older man/younger woman, dubious ethics, maruki calls you by the wrong name, p5r spoilers

Note: I went to town on this. I’ve been wanting to write something with Maruki forever and finally got the inspiration I needed

It wasn’t supposed to turn out like this.

It had started out simple - his relationship with you started out strictly professional. You were one of the seniors who had endured Kamoshida’s abuse, although not to the extent some other students had. You still held on to your high hopes and ambitions despite the pressure of exams weighing you down occasionally. Sessions with Maruki-sensei were relaxing. Unlike your parents and teachers, he listened . He didn’t brush off your complaints and invalidate them, he wouldn’t go off on tirades about how you needed to do better. He truly listened - it made you happy to be heard for once, even if you felt your problems were infinitesimal compared to your peers.

You frequented the nurse’s office. While you had friends who were probably better company than the school’s therapist, you found comfort in his words. You never grew bored or tired of his little lectures - he was researching something about cognition and how to mend the heart of its emotional labors. While he threw in complex words you couldn’t quite grasp, you tried your best to follow along and ask questions if you couldn’t wrap your head around a certain concept. And while Maruki was happy to grant you little tidbits of his knowledge, there was something gnawing at him, something he knew he shouldn’t admit.

Your mannerisms and speech patterns, the conversations you two shared, and your upbeat and quirky personality reminded him of Rumi. Every time your eyes glued on him, inquisitive and attentive, he was reminded of when Rumi would pause her studies, just to listen to him babble about two dots he was able to connect. Then he would recall her touch - lingering kisses, careful caresses, the act of becoming one, the noises that spilled from her lips, the heat that she would engulf him in—

But lately, he would visualize your face; contorted in pleasure, pleading with him oh-so-sweetly, and brows knitted as he speared your virginal walls.

However, he was the adult here. He knew it was wrong and he kept those thoughts locked away from his students. For him to fantasize about such things with a student more than a decade younger was unprofessional. For him to lock the doors after you left and pump his cock fervently to the thought of you was disgusting on his behalf. He tried to bury those carnal desires deep within - and he masked them for quite some time, believing he could simply get over it. His heart still belonged to Rumi and no one could replace her. Certainly, he wouldn’t throw that all away for some replacement, projecting her onto you, right?

But it all came to ahead.

The school was out for the day; most students had already gone home for the evening. Just when he was finished organizing paperwork, he heard his office door slam opened and closed. He glanced up, ready to offer whoever came in through his door some snacks and juice. But he was greeted to the sight of you, tears cascading down your puffy eyes. His chest tightened - he hated to see his students cry… but he didn’t want to see you like this. Usually, he thought of you as resilient and independent but he supposed you needed a shoulder to cry on, every once and awhile.

“Oh my, what’s the matter, L/N?”

He offered you a seat on the couch and sat beside you, offering a box of apple juice. You thanked him in a choked whisper, trying your best to collect yourself. Thank god Maruki had the patience of a saint, giving you ample time to compose yourself and reassuring you it’s okay every time you hiccuped a weak sorry .

You sniffled, “I-I don’t even know where to begin…”

“Take your time,” the counselor reassured.

A moment of silence. The clock ticked. You let out a shaky sigh and swallowed harshly, “T-This is all confidential, right?”

Maruki hesitated for a moment but nodded, “Yes. What happens in this room, stays in this room.”

“Okay… well, t-this is embarrassing. But I trust you the most right now,” you swallowed down your pride, willing the courage, “There’s… this student. We’ve been talking and we, uh… did some things.”

He raised his eyebrows when you paused, hearing you take in a deep and uneven breath. He could hear how broken your pride was - without considering it, he placed a hand on your upper back, rubbing it soothingly, reminding you to go at your own pace. It was welcomed. “Go ahead.”

“I… I really thought he liked me b-but…”

“He broke your heart, huh?”

You nodded, “I… I can’t go back in time. If I would have known… h-how cruel he is… M-Maruki-sensei, what should I do? My heart feels so heavy…” you buried your head into his chest, soaking his dress shirt with fat tear droplets. Awkwardly, he held you there, contemplating how he should properly respond to this situation. He furrowed his brows - he was a damn therapist and couldn’t even give you any advice on the matter. Hearing your cries reminded him too much of Rumi’s - the harrowing tears unstoppable as she was reminded of her trauma. He wanted to make them stop, make them disappear somehow. Life was so unjust, he pondered, forcing you to deal with inevitable heartbreak which would some way or another, define you. It was the seed of mistrust, the loss of innocence, and the beginning of life’s hardships.

He pulled you into his embrace, muffling your pathetic wails into his chest. Maruki noticed a faint throbbing in his head, a distant voice telling him, you can save her, let me help… he clung to that voice, asking himself how he could help, how he could be useful .

And then a flicker of kaleidoscope flooded the peripheral of his vision.

There was a ringing.

And your tears ceased.

“M-Maruki-sensei…”

You forgot why you were crying.

“L-L/N? Are you feeling any better now?”

Oh, right? You confessed your feelings.

“S-Sensei… I…!”

You lifted yourself away from the shirt you just soaked with your tears. Without hesitation, you pressed your lips desperately against his; you tasted coffee from his mouth and wanted more.

Maruki was registering what was occurring - a student was kissing him and he needed to put an end to it, he reasoned. However, before he could push you away, a hand reached down for his crotch. You pulled away from the intoxicating kiss, brain fried with overwhelming love for the man before you. “Takuto… a-are you hard?”

And for a moment, he was reminded of his first time with Rumi - her sweet voice whispering his name, worried about pushing him over the edge, “Takuto…”

Takuto…

“Takuto?”

And he snapped. He didn’t care anymore if this was wrong. He just needed you . He gained control and pushed you back into the couch, pouncing you like an animal. Experienced lips found yours and his tongue easily slipped into your mouth when you let out a gasp. He feverishly rubbed his clothed erection against your soft thigh as his kiss deepened and you were already moaning against his mouth. He needed you out of your uniform; he needed to be out of his clothes. God, he needed you so bad, he wanted you—

“A-Ah, please slow down, t-this is my first time.”

Oh right, you never specified if you were still a virgin or not. “S-Sorry…! Don’t worry, I’ll make you feel good, L/N… I mean, Y/N. Just let me take the lead.”

You nodded and assumed kissing, albeit much more calculated and less desperate. Maruki guided you as he promised. He stripped you of your pesky uniform, discarding them to the floor of his office. All that remained on your body were your simple bra and simple underwear which did not match. Maruki was addicted to the little noises you made under his kisses - you whimpered and sighed his name just like her . He ghosted his lips on the ample flesh of your breast and the experienced hand went unclip your bra, exposing the perky buds. His eager lips suckled and nipped each nipple, his slender hands fondled each mound with gentle calculation. He admired the quick rise and fall of your chest and your heavy pants; he wondered what kind of noises he could draw if he touched you down there. Would it be like Rumi’s?

“D-Do you like this, sensei?” you asked curiously, nervously spreading your legs apart as the older man settled in between them, groaning at the maiden heat of your core. He rutted against your clothed sex, relishing in the mewls you released and wishing he would strip off your panties already. God, you were particularly dripping - he couldn’t tell if it was your essence or his pre-cum that sullied the front of his trousers. And he didn’t care either.

“You’re doing so wonderfully, Y/N. You’re already so wet, my god… I’m going to take off your panties.”

“O-Okay…” and you helped him wiggle out of your underwear. He threw them to the floor, on the pile with the rest of your abandoned attire. While you were exposing yourself to him, you didn’t feel nervous - you trusted Maruki to handle you with care. The counselor gulped when you spread your legs for him, showing off your pretty pink pussy. He steadied his breathing and sighed, nestling him and observing it. Hesitantly, he brought a finger to collect your slick, rubbing the slit up-and-down. It was maddening, overwhelming all of your senses as he experimentally touched and observed your womanhood like it was some sort of specimen. Only when you bucked your hips against his hand did Maruki realize he was making you impatient. He couldn’t help but smile at your eagerness, “Patience, I need to prepare you so you can feel good.”

It was fucked up - how he was so willing to discard his ethics just to be able to relive the feeling of being with her; to fill the void in his heart since her memories were wiped clean. But wouldn’t it be more fucked up to deny your feelings? Sure, you may be confused, but… wouldn’t fall deeper into despair if he rejected you? Not only would you have to suffer through one heartbreak but two. If this helped relieve the stress of that one boy, so be it. If he could help you in the slightest, even if it means tossing morals and logic out the window, so be it. He’ll make sure you’re happy too .

After exploring every inch of your core, his index finger aligned with your entrance and pushed. Oh, did it burn but it was pleasant to have him inside. Maruki leaned down to pepper kisses on your throat and jaw, easing you into the thickness of his finger. When he buried it to the knuckle, he inserted his middle finger and sunk that into your tight heat. You hissed and the older man apologized, reassuring you that it would feel good here soon. You believed him and once you stopped trembling, the discomfort molding into a strange sensation, you told him you were ready. With careful precision, he pumped his digits inside of you slowly - he curiously scissored the canal, preparing you to take something bigger than his fingers.

When he curled his finger against a particular area of your wall, you jolted and cried out. It was just like Rumi’s first reaction, “Ah… I found your g-spot. Good, good… I’m going to go faster and touch that again. You may feel funny at first but I promise, it feels wonderful.”

Before you could question Maruki what he was about to do, you wailed as electricity shot throughout your synapses. You writhed and trembled, your head was flooding and your stomach was taut with a strange feeling. However, you couldn’t ask what this feeling was -  not when the counselor kept assaulting your g-spot, particularly finger fucking and rendering you a whining mess. Your hands found purchase in the cushion of the couch, tensing when you felt your pussy throb around Maruki’s fingers. You called out his name and he leaned down to silence your cries with his lips - the faculty should be long gone now but he wanted to be safe. You continued moaning into his mouth - then the strange coil in your stomach exploded and you arched your back, wailing and crying. He continued his ministrations, easing you down from your climax.

“T-Takuto… I-I feel so warm…” you panted, once you came down from your high.

“You just orgasmed. It was beautiful, Y/N,” he said.

“I-I’m glad…” you sighed, your body slumping against the couch. As you were washing up to the shore of your post-climax, you heard the rustling of belts and zippers. You glanced down to see the hard erection of your therapist, the pink head glistening with some fluid of sorts. Trepidation overrode your tranquility.

After seeing you come undone with just his fingers alone, he wanted to see you come undone with just his cock. Your reaction reminded him of her too, when she first offered to blow him. Her eyes had widened in surprise, not believing his cock could have this much girth to it. If he didn’t know better, he would have thought you were her reincarnation. Not hesitating a moment longer, he reached for his pocket to tear open a package of condom (better safe than sorry). He rolled the latex over his length before spreading you open to rub himself with your juices, coating himself with plenty. He wished he had a bottle of lube, just to make sure you were prepared but you were particularly dripping on the couch. You watched nervously, chewing your bottom lips as the head of his cock aligned with your entrance.

Maruki had his manners though. He gave a chaste kiss, littering more to your neck and collarbone before placing his forehead against yours. A hand reached to hold yours. Your free hand went to hold on to the back of his shoulder as he gave another kiss. “This may hurt… just relax, breathe in and out, and tell me when you’re ready, okay? … Are you sure about this?”

You nodded, giving him a demure smile as you took a gulp of air, preparing for the intrusion.

And he pushed in his bulbous head inside and you whimpered pitifully. You squeezed his hand until your knuckles turned white. Carefully, he pushed further in and knocked the wind out of you - you cried out and he paused, whispering sweet nothings and apologies. Once you were calm, he continued, and finally, his heavy balls rested against you. “Good girl, now just tell me when you move… on your cue,” he praised, leaving more ghost kisses on your vulnerable skin. You shuddered, adjusting to the painful thickness impaling your insides. However, the pain was quick to fade to only mild discomfort - it was bearable now.

“T-Takuto, nngh… y-you can move now.”

He smiled gently and carefully moved out before slowly thrusting back in. His rhythm was slow and tactful, giving you time to adjust to the feeling of sex. The initial discomfort swirled and spiraled into intense pleasure. When you moaned for more, you received more. Maruki picked up the pace - and his kisses became harsher. His head was buried in the crook of your neck and he nipped the side of it, leaving behind a red-purple bruise. That made your nerves sing and made you mewl, “T-Takutooooo~ Go harder, go faster, p-please…!”

Groaning, the older man readjusted your legs, pressing them against your shoulders so he could fuck your sweet pussy even deeper. You moaned, back arching as Maruki started to pound your oversensitive cunt. He was impossibly deep, you swear you were going to break apart on his thick cock. You continued crying and singing how good he felt, how happy you were that he was your first, and how you were wanted more. Your thighs smacked together, his balls hitting your ass deliciously, and his groin swiveled against your needy clit. His big cock was wrecking your insides and rearranging your guts, and his pace was growing desperate. He would ram the entirety of his length deep inside until the tip kissed your womb before switching it up and jackhammering into your tight walls with abandon. It made your toes curl, made you dig your fingernails into the meat of Maruki’s shoulder, and god, were you about to orgasm again?

Yes, you’re cumming again, Maruki thought as he panted against your sweat-slicked skin, relishing in your virginal tightness. He released your hand to quickly rub your swollen clit - he rubbed and rubbed ferocious circles, groaning when your pussy gripped onto his cock like a vice. Losing himself to your unbearably warm cunt, he began singing a name.

“Rumi, Rumi, Rumi…! I love you…! I’m gonna cum…!”

But rather than question the name that didn’t belong to you, you held him closer, telling him you’re going to follow him over the peak. “T-Takuto, I-I love you…!”

And the two of you exploded. He spilled himself inside while you milked his cock for more.

And while he was crying out someone else’s name like a mantra, you were praising him, seemingly not minding this. Once he finished spending the last of his seed inside of you, he collapsed on top of you. He was exhausted and didn’t seem to realize he was murmuring that stranger’s name again in your ear. Instead of shrinking into the couch out of hurt, you clung to him, peppering kisses to the side of his neck.

“I love you, R̼̗̗̹̻̄ͭͦ͌͜u̶͙̱͌ͩm̺̠͉̥͖͖ͯ͢i̖͕͚͗̽̓…”

"                    Y/N…"

You smiled. You loved how your name left his lips.

“I love you too, Takuto…”

You glanced out toward the window.

It's twilight now.

[mashiraostail]

Thank you so much! I was womdering, with the same characters as before (bakugou, gang orca ,hawks, and aizawa) What if their s/o cane out to them as a trans male, and is crying about it because they hadnt told them fir a whole year due to unsupportive family. Its been a year and one month since i came out, and my parents dont use my name and pronouns. Thank you for everything!

Ofc!! Thanks for this req! I’m really sorry this is happening to you ): I hope things start looking up soon!

TW: mentions of transphobia under the cut

Katsuki Bakugou: “Huh? Okay.” This felt too simple, you had already prepared for the worst, to just be cast out again. You were even crying already, he just looked unbothered. “What do you mean okay?” You’re scrubbing at your eyes hopelessly, “Don’t you wanna say it’s weird? That you don’t love me anymore? That you couldn’t?” He seems to contemplate that, eyebrows drawing together before he shakes his head. “...No, not really.” He tilts his head at you, “why would I say that?”  “Because it is weird, and no one likes me anymore and-”  “No one thinks that. It’s not weird.” He moves closer to you, “I don’t think it’s weird. If someone is really important to you they wouldn’t talk to you that way. I’ll call you whatever you tell me your name is. Why do I care? It’s not like I’m calling a different person, I’m still calling you, aren’t I?”  You nod at that, fists pressing into your closed eyes, trying to stop the free-flowing tears. “Maybe people haven’t been kind to you about it in the past, but if you ask me I think that’s stupid. If your friends and family are hurting you then they aren’t your friends and family. They’re replaceable, get new ones.”  “That’s easier said than done-” You snivel and he sighs, “yeah well most things are, you’ve gotta start somewhere, so start with me.” He wraps an arm around you, “what’s your name? How should I call you? Whatever you want I can do it, it’s easy. This is just another part of you, so don’t be an idiot.” He leans his head onto yours,  “Don’t think so lowly of me, that I wouldn’t accept you like this. I’d accept you however you are. Girlfriend, boyfriend, partner? I don’t care, as long as you’re still you. It doesn’t bother me. It’s easy to change, people are just stupid. You shouldn’t bother yourself with stupid people.” He mutters, “bother yourself with me instead.” 

Kugo Sakamata: When you said you had something to tell him he was expecting bad news, not this. “That’s fine.” He was confused, you looked so upset like he’d dumped you or something, but he hadn’t even said a word before that. “That’s okay with me. I don’t mind, did you think I would?” He reaches out for your wrists, “you’ll get a headache if you cry too long.” You couldn’t help crying though, you prepared for the worst when you’d told your family you had best-case scenarios in mind. Look how far that got you..so you’d be ready this time. You started crying before he could even respond.  “You don’t think I’m...gross or-or a freak or- you don’t think I deceived you I-” Your voice breaks and he sighs before you can continue your babbling. “Sometimes I worry you forget who you’re talking to when you say things like that.” He pulls your hair off your face with one hand, palm flat against the crown of your head, “why would I care? Maybe this is the sort of thing that some people get upset over, but I’m not like that. I’d never be like that, not to you.” He promises, taking your face in his marginally larger hands, “you’ll always be mine, whatever you have me call you doesn’t change that does it? Are you going to become a whole new person overnight?”  You shake your head meekly at that. “So then I really don’t see the problem, dear. I just want you, however, you want me to have you. If people are cruel to you then shut them out, you don’t need them. Over time you’ll find the people who fit. Kind people, who are good for you. I’ll help.” He pulls your face up a little as you sniffle, he sighs at your big helpless tears, ��now come here.”  “Kugo-” You warble into his chest as he hugs you, at least he’s pretty sure these are happy tears now.

Keigo Takami: “Hot.” When you told Keigo you ‘needed to talk’ to him, he wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but this wasn’t even on his radar.  “I’m sorry, what?” You were already crying, and it made the incredulous face you made him all the more confusing.  “I said, hot.” He emphasizes the word, saying the syllable slowly, “guys are hot. That must have been why I liked you so much.” He taps his chin, “plus the whole being yourself no matter what thing, also hot. And the trusting me with your emotions thing? Super hot.” He nods thoughtfully, “did you think I’d be mad?”  “I-I don’t-” You wipe your face, “everyone else was I- I didn’t want you to think I was weird or that I was trying to-”  “No way. Stop right there.” Keigo holds a hand up, “whatever other people said to you I don’t wanna hear it, it’s just gonna totally piss me off.” He holds your shoulders, “that’s all lies, it’s not weird or bad, there’s nothing wrong with who you are, screw people who say dumb stuff like that. Seriously what idiots? They should be honored to have you. I know I am.” He pulls you into his chest and wraps his arms around you, “I swear to god some people are stuck in the stone age, huh?” He rubs your back, you sigh into his shirt, “you really don’t mind? You aren’t mad?”  “Mad? Baby, I’m thrilled. You trust me that much? Enough to tell me something like this even after people hurt you because of it? You still wanted me to know, you wanted me to see every part of you? That makes me really happy. Screw anyone who isn’t grateful to have your trust like this, who takes advantage of it and hurts you. I’d never do that.” He squeezes you and you huff, thankfully into his embrace.  “Stick with me and you won’t have those sorts of problems ever again, okay?” 

Shouta Aizawa: “Thanks for letting me know. That must have been really scary for you. But all that? It’s fine with me.” Abort. Abort! Not what you were prepared for, the tears did not make sense now, ABORT! “I’m glad you felt safe enough with me to open up like that, and I’m sorry people have been hurtful to you in the past, but I couldn’t do something like that to you.” He places two firm hands on your upper arms. “You aren’t upset?” You’re relieved and confused, but he just seemed indifferent. “I’m not upset. Whatever those people said to you forget it. Whatever you need me to call you now I will, you’re a good person, you were good before and you’re good now, that’s all that matters isn’t it?” “I guess...yeah.” You nod and he hums as you scrub your wet face with your knuckles. “Then why would I be upset? As long as you’re happy that’s all I care about. Don’t let other people get you down.” He squeezes your arms reassuringly,  “Just be yourself, if people leave you for that well then that’s their loss. More for the rest of us anyways.” He lets you drop forward into his arms. “I know it’s scary and probably hard to think that you might need to let some people go along the way, but being yourself is most important, you can’t expect to form a good connection with other people or yourself if you aren’t truthful to who you are, you’re doing yourself and the people who love you a disservice by hiding parts of yourself. Nothing could ever turn me off from you, I’d rather know all of you and deal with the parts I may not like so much than only know some of you, but either way, this is a part of you I know I’m gonna like.” He feels your fists clench into the back of his shirt and he sighs quietly, “cry if you need to, but don’t cry because you think I’m upset with you, or don’t want you, I do, I always will, okay?”