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tihnxri · 2 years

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— #cynari hanahaki disease fic.

words: 2806

has not been proofread.

— this is my first time posting something like this here. i hope it’s alright (“:

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The gentle touches, the careful hands around his wrists, the small whispers, the laughter like they’re the only ones in the room—Tighnari couldn’t help but lean into it all. Each time Cyno came around, Tighnari felt an instant warmth in his chest; when Cyno gets close, with their shoulders knocking, it sparks a shock through Tighnari. And when Cyno brings back dates from the desert after his trips, Tighnari eats them to show his gratitude even if he doesn’t entirely enjoy the snack. It’s from Cyno, Tighnari will take anything offered to him from the jackal.

Collei could tell that Tighnari held deep emotions for the General Mahamatra. If Cyno couldn’t see how differently he’s been treated by Tighnari compared to the others, then the sun from the desert must have stolen his eyesight. The signs are so explicit, even if Tighnari tries to hide it.

There are times where Cyno would stay the night after a long trip. He’d lay in Tighnari’s bed as the latter stayed up all night trying to focus on his work and logs. Often he would fall asleep there and wake up with a blanket around his shoulders and an empty bed. Tighnari hates that Cyno leaves so quietly, but he knows the general wants him to get his rest.

Despite all of this, Tighnari still coughs up the petals and feels stems crawling around his lungs. The thorns painfully pierce him from time to time and force him to cough those blood-covered petals up. He’s managed to hide it from everyone for this long, though Collei could tell that he was feeling sick. The girl is around him often enough to tell when something is up.

“Master Tighnari,” she knocks on his door and walks in when welcomed, “I just returned with the rest of the forest rangers, and I wanted to bring you our report.” The girl walks over to her teacher, handing him the clipboard.

“More withering zones are appearing, huh?” He presses his finger to his lip in thought. “Ghandarva Ville?”

“Just outside the perimeter,” she confirms. “We took care of it, but only managed to sustain it. I don’t doubt it will grow back.”

“Thanks for the report. You can go now.” Tighnari places the clipboard to his side, feeling the petals come up. He clears his throat to try and chase it down so he could cough it up when Collei leaves. Once the door shuts, he slaps a hand over his mouth and coughs up so many bloody petals. Tighnari avoids his desk so there’s no blood on the papers.

The pain feels a lot worse today, but Tighnari acts like everything is fine. He wipes off the blood from his lips and tosses the flowers away. Oh, how painful it was that he knows Cyno can’t possibly feel the same way. The Fennec fox leans back in his chair, a soft sigh escaping his lips as he looks at the ceiling. His ears flatten, disheartened at the thought of Cyno rejecting him.

“Oh, Master Tighnari?” Collei tilts her head at the General Mahamatra. “He’s gone out with a few Forest Rangers to clear the withering. You just missed him, he left around maybe 10 minutes ago. If you wish, you can stay until he returns!”

Cyno hums softly. “I’m in a bit of a rush,” he pulls a box from his bag to hand them to Collei, “but please give these to him on my behalf. They’re the dates he enjoys. I thought I’d bring him some more.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to wait a bit?” Collei asked, taking the box into her arms. “It’s been a while since you two talked. I’m sure Master Tighnari would enjoy your presence.”

“I wish I could,” Cyno crosses his arms, “but I have important things to deal with. I was just in the area, so I thought I’d stop by to check in on you both.”

Collei smiles, “Well, I can’t stop you. I hope you can come back again soon, when Master Tighnari is around. I’ll be sure to let him know!” Cyno only nods and leaves, blending into the night with his black cloak.

Tighnari returns 10 minutes later exhausted and his arm bandaged up. Collei panics, already asking if he’s okay and if he needs anything. “I’m alright, Collei. Just a couple scratches that will heal by the end of the week.” Tighnari smiles in reassurance, sitting at his desk. He notices the box, sitting upright.

Collei notices and gasps, “Right! Those are from the General Mahamatra. He stopped by while you were out, but he was in a rush and couldn’t stay. He said he was in the area and decided to stop by quickly.”

Tighnari frowns a little. He missed Cyno? The one person he wished to see? “Always busy, that one.” Tighnari laughs a little and opens the box to see the candied sweets. He offers some to Collei who doesn’t hold back. “Did he say when he’ll stop by again?”

The girl frowns and shakes her head, swallowing down the sweets before talking, “He left after he handed these to me. He didn’t say when he would return.” Tighnari only nods and looks out his window. It’s already getting late, so he sends Collei off for the night.

Tighnari removes part of his clothing, only remaining in the hoodie and his pants before climbing up the thick branches of the trees. There’s a spot he always sits at to relax after a long day of dealing with the withering. It’s where he chooses to sit and meditate to not let his body get corrupted. The branches sway in the cold wind, lulling the Fennec fox to sleep.

The rustle of leaves, and the creak of the branch, notifies Tighnari of Cyno’s arrival before he speaks, “I thought I’d find you here.”

“You returned early,” Tighnari replies as he looks at his friend. “You usually show up a week later. What’s the occasion?”

Cyno sits beside Tighnari, shaking his head. “Nothing. I was still nearby and thought you’d be back by now.” The General looks at Tighnari, eyes turning soft. “You’re injured.”

Tighnari tucks his arm to his chest. “It’s nothing too bad. Just a few small scratches.”

“Surely you wouldn’t need a wrapping like that if you only had small scratches.” Tighnari can always count on Cyno to know him too well. The fox smiles and shakes his head while giving a small laugh.

“Nothing can ever get past the General Mahamatra, can it?”

Cyno shakes his head, “Especially if he’s your friend.” Right—friend. That’s all he’ll ever be. Tighnari can feel the thorns tighten around his lungs, making him wheeze a little. He tries so hard to hide it; however, the universe had it out for him. The petals are growing up his esophagus, scratching and itching to come out. Tighnari can barely focus on Cyno’s words because he’s too concentrated on choking the flowers down. Those forsaken white daffodils are turning red from his blood.

“Tighnari, are you—”

Tighnari coughs hard as he’s unable to hold it back anymore. The white petals come out in a bundle, choking him as he tries to breathe. Cyno panics and tries to get near, but Tighnari yells at him to stay away. He doesn't want Cyno to see him like this, so he runs off in fear. Tighnari locks himself in his little house and falls to his knees as he coughs and coughs until he passes out.

When he wakes up, he’s in his bed and not on the floor like he remembers. The flowers are gone, and Cyno is still here. Tighnari sits up quickly but the massive throb in his head has him laying back down.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were sick?” Cyno asks, fists clenched.

“What does it matter?” Tighnari feels the pain in his chest returning.

“What do you mean ‘what does it matter’?” Cyno stands, upset. “You’re my friend. Probably the only one I’ll ever have! Why can’t I be concerned when you’re—you’re like this?”

Tighnari feels himself breaking. “Because you wouldn’t understand!” He gets up and ignores the pain all over his body.

“Then make me understand, Tighnari. Tell me what’s wrong and what this disease is. Flower petals full of blood? The flower petals you coughed up.”

Tighnari can feel his blood run cold. Cyno doesn’t know what it is. Tighnari knows that if he confesses and gets rejected, it will speed up the process and he could be dead by tonight. Maybe the next couple hours. How much time will he have left?

The thorns pierce his lungs more, making him whimper in pain and double over. Cyno is by his side, holding him so he doesn’t collapse on the floor. “You don’t—” he wheezes— “you don’t get it. You don’t know what will happen, but I do.” Tighnari’s feeling completely sick now as the flowers grow rapidly.

“What?” Cyno pulls Tighnari up to sit him down on the bed. “What will happen, Tighnari?”

Tighnari feels tears in his eyes and he coughs harshly, more daffodils falling onto his lap as he wheezes and chokes. Cyno didn’t know what to do. “It’s incurable. Only.. only true love can save me. If not that, it can be surgically removed, but it removes all my feelings for that person.”

“True love?” Tighnari starts to cry at Cyno’s words. “Who do you love?” Tighnari grits his teeth as the tears fall, finding the courage to look up into Cyno’s eyes. Then it hits the jackal. “Tighnari… I—” Here it comes. The end of his life. “I’m sorry. We can’t, I—I’m in love with someone else.”

The thorns are merciless. They curl around Tighnari’s lungs and heart, ripping the tissue and tearing him apart inside out. The fox cries out and falls, screaming as he squeezes his chest. Cyno panics and starts calling for help, trying to keep Tighnari conscious but the pain is unbearable.

When Tighnari wakes up, he’s in a pale white room. The lights are bright, there’s something beeping beside him, and he feels like he could finally breathe. Tighnari sits up and presses a hand to his head, hearing a small gasp.

“Master Tighnari!”

“Tighnari!”

The Fennec fox looks up to see Collei with Aether and Paimon. He blinks, confused. “What..? Where am I? What’s going on?” Collei cries and jumps into Tighnari’s arms, hugging him but being gentle. He holds the girl as he tries to figure this out.

“We heard the news that you were seriously injured and undergoing surgery while we were about to leave for Aaru Village.” Aether frowns.

“Yeah! We heard a few of the Akademiya students rambling on and on about you, and we came here right away!” Paimon looks on the verge of tears.

“Surgery?” It all starts to hit Tighnari; that’s why he can breathe better now. When he woke up, he didn’t think of Cyno at all. His heart doesn’t pound at the thought of him. “They.. removed it?”

Collei finally lets go of the hug. “I was s-so scared I was going to—to lose you!” Tighnari grabs a few tissues from his bedside to give to Collei. “Why did—didn’t you tell a-anyone?”

Tighnari didn’t answer. He just stares at his hands, numb. “I don’t.. know.” Tighnari presses his palms to his face, rubbing at his eyes until he saw stars. “Has Cyno showed up since?”

“Not at all.” Aether shakes his head, arms crossed over his chest.

“The doctor explained to me what Hanahaki Disease was,” Collei says quietly. Her fists clench on her lap. “The General Mahamatra could’ve killed you by rejecting you.” Collei is bitter, her words stung like venom.

“I can’t force him to like me.” Tighnari shakes his head. “That means you have no reason to hate him. Things happen against us whether we like it or not.” Speaking about Cyno does nothing to his heart. His feelings really are gone, huh?

Collei looks as if she wants to say something but keeps her mouth shut. She hesitantly nods in agreement, though it looks as if she is still unhappy. Tighnari holds her hand, reassuring her that he really is okay. Aether stands and announces that he’ll be leaving to give them some time. He wishes him well, and Tighnari waves the traveler and Paimon goodbye. Collei licks her lips and looks up at her teacher.

“I knew,” she whispers. “I knew you had feelings for him, but I didn’t want to say anything.”

“Was I obvious?” Tighnari chuckles nervously.

“You don’t look at him like you do with everyone else. You laughed at his jokes despite them being unfunny—oh, I’m glad he’s not here to hear that.” Collei laughs a little, scratching her neck anxiously.

Tighnari looks at his palms, “I’ve been caught red-handed. Guilty.”

There’s a moment of silence before Collei speaks up again, “Do you.. know who he likes?”

“He never told me. After he rejected me, I passed out a couple minutes later from the disease.” Tighnari fixes his pillows and leans back since his chest was beginning to ache. “I don’t think I would even want to know.”

“Are your feelings really gone?”

Tighnari lays there, staring at the ceiling as he searches for something—anything. But nothing comes up. “Yes.” He’s not sad, however. It’s a breath of fresh air. Collei hesitantly goes to hold Tighnari’s hand and lays her head on the bed.

“I’m just glad that you’re still alive.” He may be alive, but is he happy? Tighnari just feels absolutely numb.

It’s been two years since then. Cyno hasn’t shown his face, and it does end up making Tighnari feel bad. Did he chase him away? Is he the reason Cyno never visits Collei anymore? Why did Cyno disappear physically but still send over sweets?

Tighnari always hands them off to Collei or the other forest rangers. He hasn’t had a single chocolate covered date since then.

As Tighnari wanders the forest in search of some resources for Collei’s medication, he hears a familiar rustle and quiet footsteps. He stands straight, his ear twitching before turning to face the one person he thought he’d never see again.

“Look who decided to show up.” Tighnari smiles, hands on his hips. “I’ve been wondering where you were.”

“You’re not mad?”

Tighnari shakes his head. “I have no reason to be. Although, I feel like Collei would be upset seeing you. Mind telling me why you went cold?”

Cyno lowers his hood; his hair is longer now, but he still looks the same as Tighnari remembers. “I thought you would hate me for.. yeah.”

“Hate you?” Tighnari laughs. “I have no reason to hate you. You must be tired from your trip, let me fix you some tea—”

“I don’t think I should stay,” Cyno cuts him off. “I hurt you, almost killed you—why are you being so hospitable?”

“You’re my friend.” Tighnari shrugs. “I won’t force you to stay, though. You can go if you really want to.”

Cyno stands there, dumbstruck. “Are you feeling alright?”

“I don’t have a fever.” Tighnari furrows his eyebrows. “Although, I was sneezing up a storm earlier. Maybe those were just allergies.”

“You don’t…” Cyno doesn’t finish his sentence, but Tighnari knows what he’s implying.

“Those are long gone, Cyno. Removed during surgery. I’m not going to throw up some meaningless flowers anymore.” Tighnari turns and looks up at the night sky, the moon shining through the leaves. “I made my peace. I’m happy now, so you shouldn’t have to worry about any of that.” Tighnari looks back at Cyno who gives him a small smile.

“I’ll stay for tea.” Tighnari gives him a smile in return, and they make their way to Tighnari’s home. They speak like old friends and catch up. The person Cyno was seeking to court was a beautiful dancer from Sumeru known as Nilou. Tighnari had heard of her name many times before. He doesn’t bring up the fact he hasn’t seen him in two years, Tighnari doesn’t want to guilt him. He’s just happy to see a friend.

Collei is by the door, listening and making sure that her teacher wasn’t crying or sounding sad. She dismisses all negative emotions because Tighnari is happy, so that means he isn’t affected by Cyno’s presence. The girl heads off quietly, going back to her own home for the night.

And when Cyno leaves, Tighnari feels a weight off his shoulders. They reconciled. He doesn’t know when Cyno will return, but he feels as if it won’t be anytime soon. Still, he feels free—unbound from chains of romance. Tighnari lays in bed that night and sleeps with a new form of peace lingering in the air.

#cynari #cyno and tighnari #cynonari #genshin impact #genshin fanfic #cyno #tighnari #angst with a happy ending #i guess its happy?#hanahaki disease #no beta we die like men

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fakesaintess · 8 months

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Carnivorous, Terrifying, Beautiful

Notes: The fic that takes place in the Overblot Identity AU staring the identity swap Hunter Deuce and the survivor Epel. Some warnings are fantasized violence and cannibalism which are used to cope with the desire for affection. Those do not actually appear in the story. Summary: He's like a rose. Thorns waiting to cut Epel's skin and drain him. Tangled roots snuffing out any life around him in order to bloom beautifully. An emblem of love grown using other's decay as fertilizer.

AO3

Consider him a fool, but Epel has fallen deep in love with one of the hunters. Spearman, someone who shared the identity of his friend Deuce but remained so different at the same time. It's considered taboo to be attracted to someone who's entire goal is to end your life yet as Spearman towers above him Epel can feel his pulse rush.

It's as if a rabbit fell for a fox. And just like a rabbit Epel desires to be hunted. He wants to be torn open and devoured. The salty taste of his iron lingering on Deuce's tongue as the two fuse together.

Epel wants to be pressed close to Deuce, so close it crushes him. Their marrows mixing as bones interlock, making it impossible to tell where one begins and the other ends.

He's taken out half of Epel's team now. The scenes of where they had been defeated left like love notes. Epel wants to be caught like they were then ripped to shreds and eaten slowly, savored like a last meal.

He wants to claw his way inside the cavity that exists in Deuce's chest and live inside him. His entire world would start and end with Deuce. He would have Epel's entirety and Epel would know his inner workings.

He's like a rose. Thorns waiting to cut Epel's skin and drain him. Tangled roots snuffing out any life around him in order to bloom beautifully. An emblem of love grown using other's decay as fertilizer.

He's a cacophony of horrors that Epel romanticizes.

His face is hidden behind a mask made of a bird skull that allows Epel only a glimpse of his cold glance as he picks off those weaker than him. They weren't on equal playing grounds but rather they were obstacles for him to cut down as he completes his task. He's a hunter and Epel is another one of his prey, begging to be turned to viscera if it meant they could be closer to one another.

Epel dreams of Deuce's lips, tinted blue like he'd been strangled. He dreams of them pressed up against him then biting, ripping, tearing like the beast Deuce is. Beads of sweat drip down Epel's neck as he fantasizes.

There's the distant noise of heels pounding against solid ground, a sure sound Deuce had found his next victim. Epel hears his heart thud, deafening and intoxicating as he envies the person fleeing. It'd be easier for them to give up, to offer themselves like a sacrifice as Epel would. It'd be easier for them to give in like he would and allow themselves the bliss of being picked apart.

Deuce rounds the corner, taking a shortcut to reach his victim but meeting Epel instead. They lock eyes and Epel feels tingles down his spine. Any expression Deuce may be making is hidden by his mask, leaving Epel clueless to why Deuce leaves him undisturbed and walks by instead.

Could he not see that Epel desires him? Could he not see that Epel wants to fall down at his feet and let himself be taken? Let himself be consumed. Let himself be forever intertwined with Deuce.

"Um." Epel says as Deuce walks by.

Deuce glances over his shoulder and down at Epel. He's silent as Epel struggles to find the words to express how he's feeling. The feelings for Deuce that cloud his mind and swirl in his stomach. He wants to step forward and grab Deuce's wrist but finds himself unable to move. With no words or movement to prevent Deuce from leaving Deuce faces forward again and continues to walk past.

Epel can faintly hear him say something, but he's unable to make it out like how he's unable to close the distance between them. He's unable to become close to Deuce so Epel can only dream of a reality where they're inseparable. A reality where there's no space between them and no one stands in their way.

His desires continue to be muddled in his brain, rationalized in ways that suppress his real feelings. The reality he wants and the things he dreams about aren't reflections of what his heart truly wants but what he believes is more acceptable.

Perhaps if he's ever able to pick apart his own feelings, to organize and sort them, he could understand what he truly wants. But until then he'll daydream about being a rabbit in the teeth of a fox.

#deuce spade #epel felmier #deuce x epel #twst #twisted wonderland #idv #identity v #overblot identity au #spearman #the farmer #alternate universe prophecy #written prophecies

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clonecyare · 3 years

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I Can Handle Myself

Summary: You were perfectly capable of handling yourself when it came to matters of your safety. But that would never stop Fox from doing his part.

Pairing: Commander Fox x senator!reader

Tags: assination attempts, protective fox, senator!reader, republic gala, canon typical violence/shenanigans, banter, secret relationship, kissing, suggestive ending,

Word Count: 1.8k

A/N: The 2nd instalment of my outfit series. This one is based on this outfit submitted by @murdertoothpick for Fox. Each fic in the series can be read as stand-alone fics.

1st instalment: Playing a Dangerous Game - Captain Rex x medic/!reader

|| Masterlist || Tag list ||

----

“I am going to say this one more time, Commander. I do not need a babysitter for this Gala, I am more than capable of handling myself.” You said matter-of-factly as you walked through the halls of the senate, datapad in hand, tapping perhaps a little passive-aggressively on the screen.

Commander Fox chuckled under his bucket, and you narrowed your eyes at him.

“With all due respect, Senator, you were the target of an assassination attempt 4 days ago.”

“And I survived. Nobody would be stupid enough to try a second attempt at Republic Gala, not with the Senate present.”

Fox chuckled and fell in step with you, bumping shoulders with you as you walked. “Maybe so, but it’s the wishes of the Chancellor that you have a member of the Guard escort you, while the rest patrol the Gala.”

You stopped outside the entryway to your office and put one hand on your hip, datapad and a stack of flimsi files clutched under one arm and pointing accusingly at Fox with the other from behind the death grip you had on your caf. “You’re enjoying this.”

You nodded politely to Hound who had been standing guard at your office, and he saluted with a polite, “Ma’am.” He took his leave as Fox took his place, leaning against the doorway with his head tilted as you punched in the keycode. The doors slid open, and he followed you inside, removing his bucket with a gentle hiss and holding it under his arm against his hip.

You couldn’t help but stare a little, just briefly. He was sporting a few soft grey hairs at the sides of his neatly trimmed hair. It made him appear just a slight bit older and more sophisticated, the neat locks of loose hair framing his handsome face.

“Perhaps a little. I do get quite the kick of you not getting your own way.”

His smug comment brought your attention back to the present and you muttered something in response with narrowed eyes. Dropping the stack of files and the datapad on your desk, you hopped up to sit on the edge and crossed one knee over the other. The lightweight fabric of your skirt sported a high slit, exposing the skin of your legs and upper thigh.

You sighed, resigned to your fate and leaned back on one palm, swirling the steaming caf in your paper takeaway cup.

“Who will be my knight in shining red armour, then?”

You asked as you blew on the hot caf and took a sip.

Fox, whose eyes has been previously occupied following the slit of your skirt up to your thigh, snapped out of his daydream and plastered a handsome smirk on his face.

“Oh, that would be me. I’ll pick you up at 7 sharp, mesh’la.”

“Wha-” You did a rather ungracious spit take withyour coffee, as the Commander slid his helmet back on and moved through your office doors with one final look back at you.

“Oh, and don’t be late.”

----

Leaning into the mirror you carefully applied the deep crimson red lipstick, treating the task with the utmost delicacy, lest you waste your look entirely. You stepped back once you were through and took a moment to admire your handiwork.

Dressed head to toe in deep, rich red tones and soft fabrics, you felt you had outdone yourself this time. If you were to be on your Commander’s arm all evening, the least you could do was make an effort, right?

You smirked softly, tilting your head in the mirror. Yeah, this would show him.

You had decided to go for an elegant gown for this evening, floor-length and a deep wine red in colour. The upper portion was a bodice lined with velvet and fitted to your body, with sleek black linear detailing down the front. Around the upper edge and over the shape of your chest was lined with intricate gold detailing.

In the centre of your chest, just under the hollow of your throat, sat a delicate golden brooch, which held from each side 2 long strips of the same wine-red material from your dress, draped prettily back over your shoulders, accentuating your chest and neck.

You had chosen several simple gold jewellery items, and tied your hair up into an intricate bun, completing your look and signature red lip. You were just touching up the corners of your lipstick when there was a firm knock at your door.

You headed for the door, opening it with a smile.

“Good evening, Commander.”

You smiled, voice sweet like honey. Your Commander, to your delight, was stood frozen in the doorway looking at you. In one hand he held the cap of his dress greys and in the other, a bouquet of Queen’s Heart flowers.

“Fox?”

You smiled softly and reach a hand out to touch his forearm. The gentle touch broke him from his stare and he quickly cleared his throat, offering you the bouquet with a bow. “For you.”

You smiled and took them with a courtesy, “they’re beautiful, come in, let me find a spot for them.” You stepped aside to let him in, finding the perfect spot for the flowers on your table.

When you turned back, Fox was watching you again, though this time he was smiling handsomely. You smiled back, “well, how do I look?”

“Mesh’la. Truly mesh’la.” He smiled as he offered his arm. Your cheeks flamed a pretty pink, bringing a satisfied smirk to the Commander’s face as you slid your arm through his own.

You locked up the apartment and made your way strangely quiet Senate District. The air was crisp against your skin, cooling the warmth you felt where you were brushing arms with the soldier lightly.

“You know, you clean up pretty well outside of all that plastoid.”

You smiled playfully, looking up at him. He smiled back, chuckling and shaking his head lightly, hair bouncing lightly in the gentle breeze. “Is that so?”

“Mhmm. I would go so far as to say a 10/10.”

Fox groaned deeply in his chest, head hanging sightly. You swore it was to hide his smile.

“I hate you.”

You smiled fondly and pressed into his side, free hand resting on his arm that was holding yours.

“No, you don’t.”

----

Perhaps you may have been wrong about the Gala. Fox had his reputation for being a little… prickly, at the best of times. But, as the over the top affairs go, the Commander had proven himself quite the charmer.

He has stayed dutifully by your side most of the evening, So, having a bodyguard was, as it turned out, a blessing in disguise - though you would never admit as much to anyone else. Far fewer senatorial aides tried to approach you upon spotting the head of the Coruscant Guard on your arm. Even several of the more conservative senators passed you by upon receiving his death glare.

At one point, towards the end of the evening, you had even managed to convince the stoic Commander to join you on the ballroom floor to dance. Well, sway, would be more accurate. The two of you moved around the room in a gentle sway, you humming softly along to the tune while Fox rested his cheek atop your head.

You raised your glass of Algarine wine to your lips in an almost mini toast, “Well Commander, it seems we had noth-”

Your words died in your throat as the glass suddenly shattered in your hand. The blaster bolt that has cause it clipped your right cheek, leaving a trail of blood in its wake. A roar of commotion suddenly filled the room, with several masked individuals pushing through the crowd. Most of the shots were trained on you, but you now noticed a group of them firing off into the guests as a distraction.

“Get down. Now!”

Fox barked, crowding you to the floor. Thire and Thorn were already pushing through the crowds, firing at 2 of the intruders and calling in backup.

“Commander!”

Hound threw Fox’s blasters towards him and took off after one of the assailants, Stone calling for backup. The leader of the group was faster, though, taking another shot that you managed to dodge as Fox tackled him, throwing himself between you and the hitman, and knocking his blaster from his hands. The pair wrestled for the single DC-17 that had fallen between them, each landing several punches.

In the end, the hitman got the upper hand. Blood rushed to your ears, cancelling out the commotion behind you. As soon as he pulled the pistol on the Commander, you were behind him, panting heavily, pistol to the back of his head.

“Drop it. Now. I promise I’m faster.”

Fox looked at you with wide eyes, before the dropped to your exposed thigh and the small holster secured around your upper thigh, soft brown irises slowly darkening. Discreet, made for a small pistol like an ELG-3A.

The man dropped the blaster and Fox grabbed him by the scruff of the neck, binding his wrists and looking over his shoulder at you with a chuckle as he pushed the man towards one of the Corries that had arrived.

The room was emptying now, only a few shaken aides left milling around, and few vod who were cleaning up and securing the room. Fox lifted a hand to brush a few hairs back behind your ear, and you smiled.

“I told you I could handle myself.”

Fox laughed, holding your cheek as his calloused thumb swiped over your cheek, wiping away the trail of blood. “Yes, you most certainly did, cyar’ika.”

You turned your cheek into his palm and pressed a light kiss, looking up at him.

Fox took one precursory look around the ballroom and bent down, kissing you hard. It wasn’t soft or sweet like you knew they could be. It wasn’t careful and quick, like so many of your kisses had to be in order to remain a secret.

It was rushed, and desperate. You could practically feel the adrenalin rolling off him in waves. It was an oddly comforting feeling, one you had grown to know only too well. The kind Fox radiated after gruelling sessions guarding the Senate. Or after the occasional run-in with the cesspool of Coruscant’s underworld.

But it was most notable in these moments. When you had found a way to put yourself in the firing line again. When he couldn’t let his mask slip, when he couldn’t treat you as more than a senator under his protection. When all he could do was his job.

It was these moments afterwards that he needed you the most, that you needed him. It was in these moments, you knew exactly what you both needed.

You broke away, eyes never leaving his own as you took his arm.

“Take me home, Fox.”

----

Tag list:

@captainrexsfuturewife

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ashxdragon · 3 years

Text

Fanfics Part 2

So these are really unique and interesting Starwars Clone war fanfics I have collected. I like these gems b/c they all have a unique twist to them. Also, more love for these writers <3 . Some time travel, some crossover, some supernatural, force sensitivity clones, etc.

*some of these fics are mature

Fate is Overrated, Anyway

https://archiveofourown.org/works/31197596/chapters/77106434

Fox shoots to kill instead of stun, and Fives dies in Rex's arms on the floor of a warehouse in Coruscant. He takes Palpatine's secrets with him.

After Order 66 goes out, a nameless assassin stalks any surviving Jedi and any clones who managed to defect. These two things may be more related than they appear.

Having met up with Rex and Ahsoka, the Bad Batch and Echo have just one goal: survive. Fives also has one goal - remember.

AKA the one where Fives gets Winter Soldiered.

- Love love love everything about this fic

Didn't see it coming

https://www.archiveofourown.org/works/11001600?view_adult=true

@JustAnotherObsessedFangirl

Basically Rex is one of Toph's reincarnations and after losing his sight in battle she helps learn how to Bend like her and he goes back to his job but with SUPER POWERS.

- one of a kind crossover (might sound silly but was actually pretty cool)

Explosive Memories

https://archiveofourown.org/works/31887118

After being involved in an accident, Ahsoka is left with no memories of anyone and is forced to relearn her way of life.

- You will need to read this one carefully b/c its worth it when you realize whats going on. Hoping to convince the writer to do a part 2. *_* A girl can dream

The Force Works In Mysterious Ways

https://archiveofourown.org/works/25960699/chapters/63107173

Ben Kenobi had lived a long live. He had known love and joy, sadness and loss. He had survived the genocide of his people. Fought the man whom he loved like a brother, despite feeling his heart break. He watched helplessly as the Galaxy fell into the hands of the Sith, as the few who dared to object disappeared. He made peace with this and with himself. It was a good live. Now, having cognized the Force at the highest level, he could guide young Luke Skywalker as a spirit.

CC-2224's life was harsh and tough. Not everyone can handle such rhythm, but CC-2224 had no other choice. He was born to serve the Republic and then the Empire. He did so dutifully even though he disagreed with Empire's methods and policy. He watched the legacy of his template die, an era of terror and fear take over the Galaxy. Chaos engulfed all living things. But finally, his time has come. His brothers were waiting for him. He can finally rest.

But the Force, it seemed, had other plans.

- This one has has de-aged clones (finally... almost all the de-aged stuff is with Anakin or Obi) and super interesting twist with Fett. hope u enjoy ;)

Void after Umbara

https://archiveofourown.org/works/31698530/chapters/78452327

@tabbywolf

After Rex executes Krell on Umbara, he is sent back to Kamino for reconditioning

Ahsoka and his brothers will have to deal with the emptiness left behind now that Rex is gone

And the shinies that were send to replace their fallen brothers

- Its only 2 chapters in at the moment but I loved the second chapter so much I immediately re read it. *Mature warning*

like a lazy ocean hugs the shore

https://archiveofourown.org/works/25033849/chapters/60625378

“One of our own made an attempt on Chancellor Palpatine’s life just now,” Thorn said, frowning, “did you not get the priority alert messages Thire sent out earlier?”

“Fives,” Fox realized with a start. He scrambled to his feet, head throbbing painfully from the sudden movement.

“Yeah, ARC-5555,” Thorn nodded, “crazy, huh?”

(Groundhog Day!AU Fix-It where Fox finds himself stuck in a time loop after Vader kills him.)

someone to watch me die

https://archiveofourown.org/works/29540751/chapters/72590856

He’s fading, can’t hold onto himself longer. Rex’s firm grip on his shoulder is the only thing keeping him here, a steady reminder that someone forgives him, that he isn’t completely alone.

Waxer has never cried before, not once. It isn’t him.

He’s not sure if the single tear that escapes him counts as crying, but it’s the closest he’ll ever get.

–

Waxer meets the ground. Hard.

Or; Waxer dies on Umbara and wakes up back on the Negotiator, three days before his death.

A Way Out, From a Certain Point of View

https://archiveofourown.org/works/31903453/chapters/78999661

In which Maul drops from the sky, claims he has travelled twenty years from the future, kidnaps Captain Rex and decides to stop the war.

Stars and Oceans

https://archiveofourown.org/works/30226014/chapters/74482698

Obi-Wan says his mind feels like the ocean on a calm day. In Cody's eyes she's a creature of pure starlight.

Part 1 and 3 of Favorite fanfics

https://ashxdragon.tumblr.com/post/653137501336289280/favorite-star-wars-clone-wars-fanfictions

https://ashxdragon.tumblr.com/post/672222291828031488/clone-war-fanfic-favs-part-3

*I’ll probably edit this post b/c i’ll randomly remember a story I wanted to add

#star wars clone wars #captain rex #ashoka tano #rexsoka #time travel #force-sensitive clones #clone trooper fives #ct-5555 #ct-7567 #cc-1010 #cc-2224 #commander cody #obi wan kenobi #avatar last airbender #toph #de-aged clones #de-aged #memory loss #waxer and boil

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clonecest-bin-account · 3 years

Note

Could you maybe do a fox/thorn sickfic but maybe with thorn being sick because there’s not enough fox comforting thorn

(Awwwww hell yes!)

Thorn likes to think of himself as a responsible person, so when he begins to feel sick, he immediately goes to a medic.

It turns out that he has a fever. Could’ve been worse, of course, but it’s still enough for Thorn to get assigned to bedrest which fine, he supposes he can do it, for a while…

When Fox arrives to Thorn’s quarters, he expects him to be resting, which is what he’s been doing these past days. He has no idea how he manages not to get restless stuck in bed all day, but he does; it’s probably because his fever has gotten worse, making it difficult to even stay awake.

In the meantime, Fox has been taking care of him during his free time. Unfortunately it’s impossible for him to shrink his duties, but as soon as he’s done with his shifts, he immediately goes to Thorn, exactly like he just did.

“Thorn?” he calls once he’s inside. “Are you awake?”

He receives no response, which doesn’t really worry him; it more likely means that Thorn’s asleep. The important thing is that he wakes him up in an hour to make him take the medicine the medic’s prescribed to him, but until then he can sleep all he wants.

With these thoughts in mind, he’s more than surprised to find out not only that Thorn’s actually awake, but that he’s also working. “What the-- Thorn!”

Hearing a sudden yell in his room, Thorn, startled, lets the datapad he had in his hands fall. He tries to catch it before he can fall on the ground, but his reflexes aren’t that fast, and it lands with a thud. “Fox! I…”

“What the hell are you doing?” Fox walks to the datapad, collecting it from the ground. “You’re supposed to be resting, not work your ass off!”

“It’s fiiiine,” Thorn complains. “The fever went down anyways.”

To Fox, he doesn’t look better than he did last time he saw him, but what does he know, right? Still, a glance to the datapad’s screen is enough to tell that even if he’s telling the truth, it’s still not enough to resume working: everything he’s written down looks like gibberish. “Alright, then what does it say here?” he asks then, showing him the screen. Maybe he’ll be able to tell.

Thorn squints his eyes at him, truly focused, but… “Fine, I might not feel that great after all,” he sighs in the end, unable to comprehend what the hell he just wrote.

On another occasion, Fox would’ve smirked at his victory, but all he does now is to put the datapad away from Thorn’s reach, and sit beside him on his bed. “I know it’s hard, but if the medics have told you that you just have to rest, you can’t work.”

At those words, Thorn glares at him. “You’re such a hypocrite,” he groans. As if Fox isn’t the one who always takes the medics’ indications of resting as just a light suggestion, suggestion that he never follows. At least Thorn genuinely felt better, that’s why he decided to get some work done.

“And what are you going to do about it?” Fox challenges him, knowing that, at the moment, he can’t do anything to him. From the way Thorn’s glare worsens, he must know it too.

“I’ll get you back for this,” is all Thorn mutters in the end.

“Sure you will,” Fox replies, not really giving weight to his words.

In the silence that follows, Fox checks on Thorn.

Well, he wasn’t lying about the fever going down, but it’s still not enough for him to be allowed to make any effort whatsoever.

While he’s doing all this, he does notice however that Thorn is weirdly silent, and it’s not just because he’s sick and tired. “What’s wrong?”

“Huh?”

“You’re making the frowny face you always do when you’re thinking something.”

“Oh…” Thorn mutters. He slowly turns on his side, eyes on Fox. “I’m jus’ sorry, I guess…”

Fox furrows his brows. “For what?”

“You always complain about how much work you’ve got to do… and now you’re stuck taking care of me.”

What? Does Thorn really think this is a problem for him?

“Well, first of all, this isn’t work, or at least, I don’t consider it work,” he begins, leaning down to leave a kiss on Thorn’s forehead, making a smile appear on his face that is so much better than the frown from before. “Besides, do you really think that if I didn’t want this I wouldn’t just leave you to the medics?”

Thorn’s silence speaks volumes. He knows. “Still… thank you.”

“No need to thank me, cyare.” Fox searches for Thorn’s hand, intertwining their fingers together. Thorn’s warm, but not enough to be uncomfortable.

Time passes and they keep staying like this, silently enjoying each other’s company. At some point Thorn even dozed off, or at least he thinks he did. It’s hard to tell.

Even though Fox is here because he wants to, Thorn is still grateful for him for putting up with him even if he’s sick - actually, especially now that he’s sick.

He won’t say anything, though, since he knows from Fox’s reaction from before that he won’t accept his thanks, and he doesn’t want to push it; not that it changes how he feels of course.

This isn’t a side that Fox shows to many people, so it makes him happy that he’s like this with him, that he trusts him enough to let him see him like this, and that he feels safe enough with him that he can let go.

Some people would raise an eyebrow at him for thinking this, but frankly, he’s happy that he’s got a partner like him.

Tag list: @maulusque @snap-p @menac-ika @captainrexwouldnever If you want to be added feel free to let me know! Just know that if you are a minor you’ll be tagged only for the sfw fics.

#assorted clonecest fics #clonecest #cloneshipping #foxthorn #commander thorn #commander fox #my fics #Anonymous

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teletraan-meets-jarvis · 3 years

Text

Monster - Part 2

AO3 Link

Characters: Commander Fox (Main), Commander Wolffe, Commander Cody, Captain Rex, Commander Stone, Corrie Medic Triage (OC).

Summary: Fox deals with the aftermath of his actions, unsure as to whether his brothers can forgive him.

Warnings: 16+, swearing, mentions of death.

Word Count: 3.5k

Part 1 here

Author’s Notes: I've been agonising over this chapter for far longer than necessary so please take it from me. Hopefully it's not complete gibberish. Feedback is appreciated as always, it's my first time writing such prominent clones all as proper characters in a fic so would be great to know what went well and where I can improve! This fic ends with this chapter but the ending leaves it open for imagination, if anyone has any cool thoughts for what may happen my inbox is always open to discuss further! Fic is below the cut, enjoy 😊.

When Fox next came around he was on the cheap sofa in his office. The rigid object making his back stiff, he must’ve been out for a while. He groaned as he attempted to sit up. He felt weak, his entire body sore and sensitive as he shuffled about.

“Welcome back, sunshine.” Stone greeted him while Triage appeared and started poking at him. Stone must’ve relieved Thorn from Fox babysitting duty. The thought made the Commander groan.

“How you feeling, boss?” The medic questioned as he started shining a small light into his eyes.

“Shit” he replied truthfully. “What happened?”

“You had a breakdown, a bad one.” The matter-of-fact bedside manner of the Guard’s chief medical officer was something Fox usually favoured, except when he was on the receiving end of it of course.

“Oh”

“It’s lucky Thorn found you when he did.” Triage chided while tapping away at his Datapad. His clean-shaven face focused as he went about the task. “You’ve got a visitor by the way”

“Hey vod” the gruff voice was followed by an even gruffer Commander strolling into view. What was Wolffe doing here?

“Thorn called.” Hm apparently he’d asked his question aloud.

Fox hadn’t seen Wolffe in months, he was always away on missions and rarely got down time when his Jedi had to return to Coruscant. His scar still stood out prominently against his tanned skin, but it looked better each time he saw him again, like it was slowly settling in to being a part of him. His armour was tattered, the grey paint scratched and chipped while the white plastoid was covered in the dirt of battle.

“Well I’m fi-“

“Don’t try it mir’sheb. I know what happened.” Fox flinched. Wolffe’s tone was flat when he spoke, his face unreadable and despite being one of the eldest of their batch, Fox felt very vulnerable under his little brother’s gaze.

As cadets and during command training, their batch had always been close, but Fox could confidently call Wolffe his best friend out of the lot. Their competitive nature pushed them to always be the best, their dry humour so cutting that only the other could truly understand it for what it was. Both of them were blunt, but over the years, the war had moulded them slightly differently. Where Fox was hardened and distant from his time on Coruscant, surprisingly, some of Wolffe’s ragged edges to his personality had softened. Not really noticeable if you didn’t know him from before, but Fox chalked it up to the friendship and mentoring of his wise Jedi and also his position as a Commander. Wolffe had lost his entire battalion early on in the war and Fox had held his heartbroken vodas he swore he would never let anything come between him and his men ever again. From that point on, Wolffe had gotten to know each member of his squad personally, always ensuring that they knew that despite his hard exterior, he’d always be there for them if they needed it.

Despite all this and how well Fox knew his brother, all that knowledge was doing nothing for him in his current situation. Wolffe knew that he’d killed another clone, yet he hadn’t lashed out yet. Was he just waiting until they were alone? The tension in the air threatening to smother them with each second that passed. Fox wasn’t ready for this conversation.

“We’ll give you two some privacy.” Triage announced before dragging a worried looking Stone out behind him.

Fox didn’t say anything, he just waited for the onslaught from his younger brother. He was sporting his signature frown which could mean a hundred different things.

“Before we even get into this, I just need you to know that we don’t hate you, Fox. We’ll always love you, you di’kut.” Wolffe’s voice finally carried some emotion now that they were alone. It held a mixture of things, brotherly frustration at Fox’s self-loathing, a fear for finding out things he might not want the answer to and the smallest twinge of betrayal for what Fox had done. But among the rest of it, among the words said, there was love. Fox huffed out a humourless laugh.

“Beats me as to why”

“We’re family. We don’t need a reason. We’re stuck with each other, whether you like it or not.”

Silence lingered between them as Fox finally found the courage to speak about the elephant in the room.

“I don’t know why I did it. I didn’t mean to.” His voice was faint, almost like if he said it any louder it’d all be real.

“I know ori’vod”

Fox finally launched into an explanation of what happened. His chest constricting further and further, threatening to rob his body of air as he pushed himself to get the story out. His hands shook in fear of what his closest brother would think of him, of what he’d done. Wolffe hadn’t spoken during the entire story, resigned to just watching him from his perch on his desk. Fox was panicking.

After what felt like the longest silence of Fox’s life, the younger Commander exhaled roughly, his bare hands rubbing at his scar out of habit as he processed the information. “You told Rex this?” Fox was shocked that out of everything to ask, that that was his question. The Guard Commander shook his head.

“Well, we better get him over here” Fox jumped out of his seat and placed a hand over his brother’s comm link.

“Kriff Wolffe, the poor guy has suffered enough. Last thing he needs is me begging for forgiveness for something he can’t forgive. I killed one of our own, one of his last few best friends. He hates me. And I really don’t blame him.”

“Maybe so, but he deserves to hear the truth from you. Whether or not he believes it is up to him.” Reluctantly, he let his arm go and stalked back over to the sofa. “I’ll comm Cody, he’s over there with him now.”

“Didn’t realise you were both planet side.” Fox grunted out, he could really do with some caff, his body was exhausted.

“The 104th were on their way back since Plo had some Jedi stuff to do, we touched down this afternoon. As for the 212th, they finished their last mission and once they heard about everything that’d been going on, General Kenobi requested they come back to help out. Though I have a feeling that was Cody wanting to check in on Rex.”

Fox wanted to ask how Rex was, but the searing guilt that burned in his chest couldn’t bear to ask the question. So he decided to check on some people who potentially hated him a smidge less, only a smidge though.

“Have you heard from the others?”

Wolffe nodded and went on to tell him about what the rest of their batch had been up to. Gree had recently been assigned to General Yoda, who he was absolutely terrified of. Fox didn’t blame him, the Jedi was extremely powerful for someone so pint sized, he’d also heard that he had a wicked sense of humour which would definitely stress Gree out, much to the amusement to the rest of his batch. Ponds was getting on nicely with Mace, they’d recently had a successful campaign near the outer rim and were due back on Coruscant soon. The eldest of their batch, Bly, was doing well too. Apparently Wolffe thought he had the hots for his General as Bly apparently refused to shut up about how amazing and strong and caring she was. Fox wasn’t sure if he was messing with him or not, but the thought brought a small smile to his face nonetheless. Trust Bly to fall in love with his Jedi General.

“What about you? How’s life in the Corrie Guard?” Wolffe asked.

Where could he even begin. Fox never offloaded about his problems onto anyone, except maybe his fellow Commanders in the Guard who he shared the burden with. Wolffe wouldn’t understand. A part of him also wanted to be the dutiful big brother and not place any worries or fears onto his vod’ika.

“Not much to report, same as always” he wasn’t lying at least. It was easier this way, for them not to know. They could keep thinking he was safe away from the battlefield. Their hopes in this war were already pretty low, they didn’t need to know about the horrors that lurked away, hidden among the senate corridors and the low levels of Coruscant.

——————————

Anxiety gripped at Fox’s chest as he paced a hole into his metal office floor. Waiting for Cody and Rex made him feel as if he was waiting for a death sentence. He thought of all the ways he could potentially escape but he knew Wolffe would be all over him. The 104th Commander always was a fan of tough love and things didn’t get tougher than this.

There was a slight commotion outside which pulled the both of them to attention.

Rex came storming in, his face set like stone, an angry frown marring his features and deepening the creases in his forehead. Once he set his sights on Fox nothing could deter him. “Rex, wait!” Wolffe shouted but he couldn’t stop him in time. Rex’s fist slammed into Fox’s nose with a sickening crack, sending the Commander sprawling backwards, catching himself on his desk as his nose started gushing blood.

Cody ran in from nowhere and locked Rex’s arms behind his back, trying to calm their little brother. “Rex, will you just listen to him.” He shouted down his ear while Fox recovered from the blow, cradling his now broken nose as Wolffe came to his side to help him back up.

“Why? Why should I listen? He didn’t listen to Fives!” Rex screamed back as he writhed in Cody’s arms. His words cut into Fox, making him grimace.

“I know. I’m so sorry, Rex.” Fox apologised with a burning sincerity, but it only deepened the frown on Rex’s face.

“I don’t want your apologies.” The Captain shouted back, gone was his usual professional composure. Right now he was a broken man who’d lost one of the last few people he’d let get close to him. There was no rank in this room right now, they were just a group of hurting vod, trying to pick up the pieces.

Rex spat his words out at Fox with a look that could kill, he probably wanted it to. He looked like he wanted Fox to hurt as much as he was right now. “Maker, I know Palpatine had you wrapped around his finger, I just didn’t realise how much.” Ouch.

“Rex” Cody reprimanded, his Marshall Commander voice coming out as he tried to defuse the situation. The Captain’s face was still masked in hurt and anger, but he did back down slightly after his verbal blow. “The past couple days has been hard for you vod, we know that and we’re here for you. But we wouldn’t be asking you to listen to Fox right now if we didn’t think it was worth it. Please, just give him a chance.” Once he finished, he nodded at Fox to signal him to get started. He took a deep breath and readied himself to try and explain the unexplainable.

“I know it sounds ridiculous but what happened back there, It wasn’t me” he started, and Rex just scoffed, still struggling against Cody’s hold. “Look, I can’t explain it. But I set that gun to stun, I swear to you, Rex. I know you all think I’m some cold, order-following droid but I would’ve brought him… I would’ve brought Fives, in for questioning. You- you have to believe me.” Fox pleaded, blood still trickling down his face from his broken nose. He wasn’t their usual, sarcastic, caffeine deprived big brother. No, Fox was a complete mess as he tried to reason with Rex. He couldn’t bare his brothers thinking that he did this willingly, that he’d turn on his own kind with just a simple order.

“What do you mean it wasn’t you?” Rex’s gaze was still unsure, but he’d never seen Fox like this before. He looked desperate, much like Fives had.

“I- I blacked out. One minute we were moving in and as soon as I saw Fives, and I know this sounds crazy, it’s like something else took over. I was just watching from the sidelines.” Fox gave an exasperated sigh as he tried to explain himself.

“Like something was controlling you?” Rex asked, the cogs in his brain turning as he waited for a reply. Fox just gave an ashamed nod and dreaded realisation dawned on Rex’s face.

“Maybe Fives wasn’t crazy” he said it as barely a whisper but with the silence in the room they all managed to hear it.

“What do you mean?” Cody questioned as he finally let his vod’ika go, content that he wasn’t going to assault the Guard Commander further. Rex used the freedom to go and lock the door to Fox’s office.

“What I’m about to say doesn’t leave this room, understand? No one can know, not our vode, not your Jedi, nobody.” The three of them nodded.

“Before he died, Fives was trying to explain what was going on to General Skywalker and me, he said that there’s something in our heads that could make us do whatever someone wanted… Even kill the Jedi.” Wolffe and Cody’s eyes widened at the thought, finding it impossible to even comprehend hurting their Generals who they cared for deeply.

“And if, if, he’s right about that, well, he said the Chancellor is in on the whole thing. That he set him up. And as insane as it sounds, that could explain why he sent Fox, of all people, to hunt him down.” Rex finally spared him a glance that wasn’t filled with complete hate, there was a slight bit of pity in for good measure instead.

“You’re saying that the Chancellor has some sort of control over me?” Fox replied. The colour draining from his face as he considered the option.

“I’m saying… it’s a possibility. After seeing what happened with Tup, what you’re saying happened to you doesn’t seem far off. He had no idea why he killed General Tiplar. Said he didn’t mean to hurt her.”

“Okay hold on, so you’re trying to tell us that Fives uncovered a plot by the Chancellor which involves all of the clones having something in their heads which allows them to be controlled, with the likely purpose of it being to kill the Jedi?” Wolffe asked with the hopes that he might wake up from this weird dream he found himself in.

“Pretty much” Rex replied.

“Ozik” Cody cursed. “And you believe him? Fives? You sure he didn’t just lose it?” The Marshal Commander needed this final confirmation from his brother.

“I-” Rex exhaled and dragged a gloved hand down his face “I think I do. I wasn’t sure before but with what Fox is saying, it’s all a bit too much of a coincidence. I believe him enough to at least look into what he was talking about. He wouldn’t have risked everything he did for nothing.”

Fox tried to keep breathing as the conversation went on. Controlled. A plot to kill the Jedi. Maker this was too much. Surely they had to be wrong. But then he remembered his shit show of a life, the things that the chancellor made him do, things he’d never do willingly if he had the choice like a true sentient being. Maybe it wasn’t such a faraway reality. He repressed the shiver that threatened his body.

“You do realise we’ll get executed on the spot if we’re found looking into this. This is treason. If what you’re saying is true, then it sounds like they went to some pretty serious lengths to keep Fives from outing them.” Wolffe added, ever the pessimist. Not that Fox blamed him, they were moving into dangerous territory with this talk.

“You three can walk away, but I owe this to Fives and Tup.” Rex said, conviction written all over his face.

“I’m in” Fox announced as he wiped most of the blood away from his nose and mouth. The ache from his broken nose setting in as the adrenaline from his and Rex’s confrontation started wearing off.

Wolffe and Cody shared a glance, a silent conversation taking place between the two of them. They both shared strong bonds with their Jedi in different ways, they wanted to do everything in their power to protect them, but could they keep this a secret for long enough? Obi-Wan and Plo were very in touch with their Commander’s emotions. There was a chance they’ll figure out something was up sooner than they’d like. They would just have to work fast. Cody nodded at Wolffe, and the decision was made.

“We’re in too” Wolffe confirmed. “I don’t want any more of our brothers to die if we can help it.”

“What about Skywalker? He was with you and Fives, do we at least have him on side?” Cody asked and Rex pulled a disappointed face.

“As soon as Fives mentioned the Chancellor being involved, Anakin wrote the whole thing off… It’s just us.”

“We can work with that” Cody comforted with a hand on his little brother’s shoulder and a small smile. The Commander’s comm link started chirping and he gave them all a sorry look. “It’s the General, I better take this and head back. But we’ll catch up later.”

“79’s?” Wolffe offered. Despite none of them fancying a night out, there was no better place to get privacy than a noisy bar filled with identical faces. Cody nodded and quickly departed.

Eventually they had to call Triage back to deal with Fox’s nose. He’d done well to hide the pain during the chat between the four of them, but it had quickly started to take over his thoughts. Thankfully his CMO came armed with pain stims and for once, Fox didn’t get absolutely ripped into by the medic as this injury wasn’t a result of his own stupidity. Well, to be fair, he was sure that assessment was up for debate, especially from Rex who was talking quietly with Wolffe around Fox’s desk.

Fox poked at the metal brace and bandages on his nose, the Bacta patch under it was a squishy texture. Triage knocked his hand away like a parent would a child who was reaching for the last cookie. “Don’t touch it” he warned, and Fox moved his hands back down to his side. “Given our accelerated cell regen and the Bacta patch, you should be good to wear your helmet again by tomorrow” Fox gave his thanks to the medic by clasping his wrist in a handshake before he was left alone with his vode again.

Wolffe conveniently dipped out to use the fresher, leaving Rex and Fox alone for the first time since the incident. Fox’s heart rate sped up as he thought about it, the scenes of Fives’ death playing over and over again in his head like a horror film on repeat. That look on Rex’s face when their eyes met over Fives’ body, seared into his brain as a constant reminder of what he did.

They stared at each other from across the room, Fox was still sat on his cheap, rock solid couch while Rex was stood by his desk.

Fox couldn’t hold the eye contact; he broke it off and shifted his gaze to his hands.

“I don’t expect you to forgive me. It’s not what I’m asking for, you're well within your rights to hate me. But I just want you to know that I wouldn’t hurt you like this willingly. It’s the last thing I’d ever want.” Fox broke the silence. Still not brave enough to meet Rex’s eyes, to see the disappointment and betrayal which would likely be waiting for him.

He heard some shuffling and the couch sink down slightly beside him. He dared a look over and saw Rex’s scratched leg armour.

“I don’t hate you, Fox. I know you were put in a tough situation. I know I like to think I would’ve handled it differently, but truth be told, I don’t know what could’ve happened if Fives didn't put us in that ray shield. And while I don’t want to think about it, I have a feeling someone would’ve got to him eventually. It was inevitable.” He paused and took a shuddering breath. “I just… I just need a bit of time.”

“I appreciate that, take all the time you need.” They both shared a small smile, content that they’d get past this together. There was light on the other side of this dark tunnel.

Rex really did care about Fox; he’d always looked up to him over the years. He remembers the small stuff, the words of encouragement when a training simulator went wrong, the proud look on his face when he got promoted to Captain, the many nights of drinking Thire’s rocket-fuel moonshine in Fox’s office when Rex needed to escape from the war for a few hours.

They’d be fine, time was always the best healer. Fox just hoped that they had enough time left.

Back to Part 1

Back to Masterlist

#star wars #clone wars #star wars fic #star wars fanfic #clone wars fic #clone wars fanfic #commander fox #commander wolffe #captain rex #commander cody #commander stone #clone oc #clone wars season 6

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wanderinginksplot · 3 years

Text

Warriors in Red Armor

Next | Masterlist

Chapter One

Hound I

"So, are we going to 79's tonight?" Hound asked. He had meant to be subtle about it, but the question burst out of him the moment his well-worn boots crossed the threshold of the small break space allotted to members of the Coruscant Guard.

As break spaces went, the one designated for the Coruscant Guard's clone troopers was an embarrassment. Some determined being had managed to cram a table and a handful of chairs inside, but it was a tight fit. If more than a few fully armored troopers went inside at the same time, none of them would get back out without removing some armor to clear the traffic jam. The lights flickered, the faucet leaked, the floor was always sticky, and the stuffy air held a hint of the chemicals that had been stored there years ago. Since then, the previous break space had been renovated into an office for one of the few nat-born commanding officers and this one had been created for the clone troopers.

Still, the smell of caf was stronger than the smell of chemicals most days and the light from a nearby advertisement screen lit the room so brightly that the flickering lights didn't give any of the troopers a migraine anymore. Hound always was a man who liked to see the glass as half-full. Maybe even a little more than half, if that glass was sitting under the dripping faucet.

Thire snorted at Hound's question, leaning back in his chair until gravity threatened to topple him. "Well, boys? Hound wants to know if we're going to 79's this lovely Friday evening. What do we think?"

Thorn glanced around the room, looking unamused by his brother's antics. "We think I'm the only other one here, di'kut."

"Exactly!" Thire said in triumph, obviously determined to ignore his fellow commander. "It's the weekend! Why wouldn't we go to 79's?"

"Because you've finally realized that it's a glorified zoo?" Thorn snapped, tone venomous. "79's is where civvies go to stare at clone troopers so they can feel like they're being daring. In reality, they're being irritating."

Having spoken his piece, Thorn tossed back the last of his cup of caf, always consumed as dark as his mood. Hound shuddered at the thought. Corrie Guard caf was brewed at the approximate concentration of speeder fuel and could eat through duracrete. Only a trooper who hated himself would drink it black.

Thorn always drank it black.

"So you don't want to go?" Hound asked again, sounding heartbroken.

"No, I'll go," Thorn told him. "Zoo or not, 79's still has the cheapest booze on Coruscant that doesn't use poison as a mixer."

"Well, that's the most excited I've heard Thorn get about anything for a week, at least," Thire smirked. "Commander Fox, you want in on this?"

The Head Commander of the Coruscant Guard, having just stepped into the break room to fill his mug with caf, shook his head. "No, I'm on duty tonight. The Clone Rights group has been cleared to march and the Chancellor wants an extra Guard presence. Stone will be stuck here as well, monitoring any new arrivals."

"Ugh," Hound said, summarizing everyone else's point of view. "Well, we'll be thinking of you both, Commander."

Fox lowered the datapad in his hand to shoot a look in Hound's direction. "Sergeant, don't you have that ARF PR stunt tomorrow at 0800?"

Hound shrugged. "Yeah, but I can do both."

"Make sure you don't miss it," Fox ordered sternly. "The last thing I need is to have to report to the Chancellor that you missed a chance to give the GAR a boost in civil opinion."

Hound saluted and Fox turned his attention to the other break room occupants. "Thorn, if you let your stubble get any longer, it'll be considered a beard and subject to facial hair regulations. Thire, sit on the chair like a normal being, would you?"

Thorn nodded and Thire grinned as he let the chair's legs slam onto the floor. Fox rolled his eyes at their antics, refilled his cup of caf, and left the break area. Hound idly wondered how many of the gray hairs appearing at the Head Commander's temples were due to the commanding officer team. Still, the Chancellor had let Fox choose his own team of COs, so there was no one to blame but himself.

"Meet at 2100?" Thire asked. "That's prime time for 79's and there'll be plenty of talent. I'll go ahead and apologize, vode. When you look this good, you automatically get your pick of the females."

Thire brushed a hand back across his hair - meticulously trimmed to maintain the subtle horizontal lines shaved into the otherwise regulation cut - and grinned at the other two. Hound and Thire rolled their eyes, but agreed anyway.

---

Kai I

"Hey, do you guys want to go to 79's tonight?" Kai asked, perched on the desk she was supposed to be sitting behind. She was always restless and neither of the other women blamed her for the odd choice of seat - even though it made inter-desk communication a bit of a pain.

Arkularia - who, for the sake of Kai's sanity, allowed the others to call her 'Ark' - was the first to respond. "79's? The clone bar?"

"Do you want to drink, dance, or find a one-night stand?" Ransom asked from behind her expansive tech setup. "Because there are better places for any of those. Closer, too."

"No, I want to go to 79's," Kai said, kicking up her chin. "And as for what I want… I want all of them. All three options, please and thank you."

"Did you just try to order a night out? Like from a menu?" Ransom asked. From the tone of her voice, Kai had managed to earn a rare smile from her boss. Of course, that was only a guess since Ransom didn't emerge from her den so Kai could verify the expression.

"No… but can you imagine how much easier that would be?" Kai asked in her own defense.

"It would take some of the fun out of it, I think," Ark said slowly.

Kai chucked a wad of flimsi at her friend and co-worker's head, cheering to herself as it connected and bounced off of Ark's white-blonde hair. "I know that, Ark! C'mon guys, do you want to come to 79's with me or not?"

"I'm out," Ransom said immediately, shutting down the projector option on her desk. She was still illuminated by the ambient light from the schematics on her datapad. The cybernetic implants in Ransom's arm gleamed in the blue glow as she dragged a hand over her shaved head. "I have to work late if we have any hope of finishing our next job on time."

"Ark?" Kai asked, not too proud to sound like she was begging.

Ark sighed, pale eyes hopeless in the face of Kai's wheedling. "Fine, I'll go along."

"Yes!"

"Ransom, are you sure you can't come, too?" Ark asked, her voice a bit desperate.

"I really do have to stay and work on this," Ransom apologized, gesturing at her assortment of datapads. "My condolences."

"We're going to a club, not facing a firing squad!" Kai admonished. "Besides, I just want to find someone fun."

"Like that last guy?" Ark asked, squinting a bit as she applied her prodigious memory to her own question. "What was his name?"

"Not sure," Kai admitted. "But he was so much fun! Great tattoos."

"So you are looking for a hookup! I knew it," Ransom crowed.

Ark frowned. "Why a clone trooper? They're never on-planet for long before they have to leave."

"Exactly," Kai said with a wink. "Love 'em and leave 'em."

"Didn't the last one stick around for a while? I thought I remembered seeing him more than a few times…" Ark pondered.

"Hardcase! His name was Hardcase," Ransom remembered. "He came by every day of his leave."

"Strange name," Ark commented.

"Strange guy," Ransom said with a shrug.

"But he was hot," Kai countered, folding a piece of flimsi to look like a tooka. At least it did in her imagination. "And so much fun. I need another someone like him."

"What happened to him?" Ark asked curiously.

Kai would have blushed if she had any shame - too bad for Coruscant that she didn't. Instead, she pouted. "He moved on with a Zeltron who works at GAR headquarters. That's the best place to meet troopers, but they don't give access to civilians unless they have official business."

"Hardcase didn't seem like the type to ghost you out of nowhere," Ransom mused.

"I… may have freaked out about him asking me to be his girlfriend," Kai admitted. "I don't want anything serious, you know? Besides, I'm the one who introduced him to the new girl. She's a sweetheart. He adores her and she's the same about him. Can't be too upset with that."

Ark and Ransom exchanged loaded glances, but Kai had no interest in a therapy session. "Right! So, Ransom, you're still out?"

"I have no interest in coming along and I have work to do here."

"Well, that was almost nice," Kai congratulated. "Ark, it's you and me. When should we go?"

Ark shrugged. "Why don't we just stop there on the way home from work?"

"Are you kidding?" Kai asked, aghast at the idea. "We aren't exactly wearing Senatorial dress, but we're still too professional for a club! No, we need to go home, change, and meet there. How long do you need?"

"I don't know… half an hour?"

"How long do you need to find an outfit that makes sense in a club setting?" Kai rephrased her question.

"Two hours," Ark corrected herself, sounding sheepish.

"That's more like it," Kai said, satisfied. Her look turned wicked as she said, "Now, let's talk about makeup…"

"Are you sure you don't need any help here, Ransom?" Ark asked their boss, her eyes widening with hidden significance.

"No, it's too late!" Kai denied. "Meet me at my apartment and I'll help you. Let's say eight."

Ark glanced back at Ransom, who gave a sympathetic shrug. Ark sighed. "Fine, eight."

---

A/N - Hello, and welcome to yet another Clone Wars-based story! I can't leave these poor guys alone. They deserve so much more than they got! So, you may have noticed that some of the characters are a bit different from the way they are normally portrayed in fan fiction. The first fic I read with the Coruscant Guard had Thire as a happy joking guy and Thorn as a serious doom-and-gloom trooper. I'm coming to realize that is not typical for fanon interpretations, but those characterizations are embedded in my mind. I hope you didn't find this too jarring!

I'm experimenting with a new Game of Thrones-style POV tracking format. Hopefully that will keep things from getting too confusing as we bounce back and forth across eight different POVs! I apologize for the short length of this chapter, but it's just a simple introduction of (most of) the characters.

#Warriors in Red Armor #star wars the clone wars #star wars #star wars fanfiction #coruscant guard #commander fox #commander thorn #commander thire #sergeant hound #clone troopers deserve better #more to come #please reblog

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ginazmemeoir · 3 years

Text

so i was inspired by @h00man-bean and here you go with a fic about Kaz and Inej as the Devil and the Reaper.

tagging @h00man-bean @mango-pickle @carmen-riddle @the-fault-in-our-inquilab @momo-all-the-way @gopikanyari @aadyeah @reddish-green-personality @weird-u @holding-infinity-and-a-book @dragonfairy1231 @totallyforgotyouwerehere @a-dragon-under-the-stars @taareginn

I crash into consciousness. The sound of gurgling water and rustling leaves greets me as I stand up. Strange. The last time I was alive, I had arthritis and was confined to a wheelchair. All Nina could do was slow mine and Inej’s death. I remember the last breath I drew, the last thought I had, the last time I saw Inej smile. And then nothing. Just an empty void, just – not being anymore.

I look at myself, flex my toes. It appears as if death has returned my old skin back to me, but it still doesn’t look like mine. This one is clear as if it was tended to by a Grisha tailor daily, as if the man who bore it had never worked a day. I am wearing the suit I stole from Pekka Rollins, decorated with a genuine gold pin showing a crow with a lion’s head in its claws. My cane lies beside me along with my hat. Either I am in a coma and am dying a slow, painful death as many of my enemies wished, or I have woken from a dream and nothing that I know happened, never really happened. I would rather prefer the first. Then, I see Inej.

She stands there in her captain’s uniform, the teal coat Sturmhond gave her, coupled with breeches and boots. I bet her knives are still tucked there. Her skin, still the same gleaming bronze, is now wrinkle free. Her eyes are kohl rimmed, and her ink black hair spill onto her shoulders. She looks at me with confusion, her eyes searching. “Kaz?” she asks. I move toward her, and then run. Funny how a good leg is almost as useful as a grisha crafted cane.

I clasp her hands in mine, her breath caressing me. “Inej,” I whisper “What are we doing here?”

“You’re both dead actually.” says a voice behind me. I turn around to see a Fjerdan merchant approaching us. He wears a blood red coat with gold lapels. His blonde hair is slicked back, and he walks with the cool confidence of someone who just cracked a deal. The only thing differentiating him from a Kerch businessman that I once looted is that he’s surrounded by floating rocks. Inej immediately kneels beside me, and nudges me. “Sorry but I have a bad leg. Also I don’t bow to animated turkeys.” I say as I go and retrieve my cane and hat. The Fjerdan chuckles and replies in heavily accented Kerch, “I suspect that bad leg excuse is of any use to now, Kaz Brekker. Also, please get up Inej, you look extremely out of place bowing to me in a teal coat.” Inej gets up reluctantly, and when she does, she has… tears in her eyes?

“Sankt Demyan of the Rime, thank you for protecting me.” She says, and hands him one of her knives. “Ah. How poetic.” He says, and pockets the knife. That is when I realize that we, in fact are dead. And Inej’s saints, are in fact, real. Great. There goes my ten thousand kruge. Thankfully the rest of the Crows aren’t here or I would have ended up as quite literally, a bankrupt soul.

“How many times have I told you Demyan to let me welcome the visitors? You’re hardly a gracious host, let alone a good gambler,” says a Shu woman, as she walks in behind Demyan, along with a Suli girl. The Suli girl was surrounded by floating rocks as well. She looked at Inej, and smiled at her. “And now, I would like those gold buttons of yours.” Says the Shu woman.

Inej hastened to remove her own lapel, a dragon and a fox, when the woman stops her. “I’m not talking to you Wraith, I’m talking to Demyan. We had bet that Kaz Brekker would kick him in the balls when he first arrived. I however had gone for a scathing insult. So seems like I won.” She says, and takes the gold buttons that Demyan removed (albeit while grumbling) in her slender hands. “Sankta Yeryin of the Mill, and Sankta Marya of the Rock, I- it’s an honour to meet you.” says Inej, and proceeds to bow more times than she has apologized when she was alive. I am shocked to see the way these so called “saints” milk Inej’s “devotion”. She was the closest thing to a saint that people actually had down in the mortal realm, and I would rather have kicked Demyan in the balls than let Inej bow again. But I restrain myself for the sake of my jaan.

Inej gives two more knives to the women, and stands beside me. She looks like a ridiculous schoolgirl, all giddy as if she had met her favourite aunts, and I catch myself falling in love with her all over again as a dead soul. Demyan soon interrupts my thoughts with that sinuous high-pitched voice, and asks, “I see you’re unusually quite today Dirtyhands. What’s the matter?” “I’m sorry, it’s just I’m wrapping my head around the concept of not existing physically anymore. Also I’ve heard you carry your belongings with you to the afterlife, so where’s all my gold?” I reply. Yeryin chuckles, her slit eyes crinkling while Marya looks at me in disbelief. Her voice, booming like a mountain echo, repeats what she, and countless others back in the mortal world, including my wife, thought each day, “Have you no honour Kaz Brekker?” I just shrug and adjust my hat.

“Anyways, ah, back to the topic at hand.” says Demyan, as he walks towards a tree. No wait, the tree. It could easily be as tall as a mountain. Five springs gush forth from its roots, and a heart is suspended from thorns right in front of a tear in it. The heart with the thorns I remember from the most epic heist of my career, involving legends and the Ravkan monarchy. The tree I do not. Inej asks, “Mind me, O great Saint of the Dead, but could you please acquaint us with our surroundings?” Wow. That’s a lot of vocabulary from a woman whose last sentence, in my memories, is complaining how the medicine she gave me smelled like rat fart. “Oh yup that’s Djel. Or rather his ash tree. Quite popular with my countryfolk.” he says cheerfully. “And we’re here in a mountain in the Sikurzoi, in a different plane of existence. For you, are dead.” he continues, with that ridiculous smile of his. Marya then steps forward, her voice slightly less enthusiastic, giving me the feel that this is all probably quite rehearsed for a while now. “You are a long way from home my loves. Kaz Brekker, you died a natural death. Inej Ghafa, you also died a natural death. Both of you were a hundred and thirteen years old, with Inej dying within a year of your death. The form you have now, is the form you chose to be remembered as.” she says. Yeryin huffs past us, her robes billowing, and hands the buttons over to Demyan, raising up her hand to his face and showing a symbol that quite contradicts with the Saint of Hospitality. “I should have expected such from you, you merchant scum.” she says. She then turns to directly address us and says, “Enough introductions though. The real reason you’ve been brought here is for another reason entirely. You see, the souls of the dead…”

I roll my eyes as the Sankta prepares for another lecture about how our “feeble human brains can’t comprehend the world.” I regret having married Inej in this moment in the afterlife though. Dirtyhands would’ve conned them by now and found a way back to the mortal realm. Kaz Brekker on the other hand, sits on the grass like a five-year old listening a story. Inej sits beside me, her coat now lying beside her in a heap and her hair fluttering open. How I wish I could’ve seen her in the open sea like that.

“…are usually brought to the other sides of the tree.” Yeryin says, waving her hands in an elegant motion to summon up a throne made out of the river pebbles and rocks, confirming that the trio were all, in fact, Fabrikators. “There, they are all assessed in context with their deeds on earth. Everything that they’ve gone through, and everything they’ve done is all taken into account by the Saint of The Book.” She then points to a woman, invisible until this point, sitting near the tree. She bends over a desk, poring over a giant ledger and surrounded by thick books. Her thick blonde hair covered her face, her glasses perched on her wide nose, and her fair, plump skin flushed. “The three of us then decide their fate in the afterlife. Those, who we decide are ‘good’, enjoy the fruits of paradise for a while and then return to the making at the heart of this world. Those, who we deem ‘bad’, are impaled on the thorn wood until they are purged of their sins. They then bathe in one of Djel’s springs, and return back to merzost.”

“Yeah but why are you telling us all of this? We get it, we’re dead, so which way are we going?” I ask the Saints. Inej elbows me once again, scolding me with her eyes. I shrug, and stand up with my cane. “Unless you have something else to tell us, I would like to take your leave. Saints.” I start to walk, when I find myself tripping over. I right myself with my cane just in time, and see that my hands and feet are bound by vines, Demyan’s hands raised up. These saints want a taste of Dirtyhands? Fine. I will show them Dirtyhands.

I see Kaz’s demeanour change. He slips into the familiar garb of Dirtyhands, his eyes cold as flint, lips slightly pursed, standing like the King of the Barrel. I get into a fighting stance, my heavy coat no longer obstructing me. I feel the presence of my remaining knives, regretting handing over the rest. I respect my Saints, but nobody, and I repeat nobody, touches my husband and escapes alive.

Marya stands immovable, her eyes gazing at something in the distance. Yeryin clasps her hands, and states, “You came here at our wish Kaz Brekker. You leave with our wish as well. No need to reach for your knives Wraith they won’t serve you here.” I feel a tug inside me, as if someone is yanking on my leash. Before I know, I am pulled back, my breath knocked out of me, and I crash into a wooden chair. Kaz suffers a similar fate beside me, and I can see his anger barely in check. “Why are you doing this to us?” I ask Marya. She glances at me, her eyes tearful, and replies, “Because we’re tired Inej Ghafa. Because you’re now, the new gods of death.”

Great. We’re the subject of a cruel joke by the Saints and are being tortured for our sins. “We don’t want anything to do with you or your jobs. Just release us and march us over to the thorn wood, I’m ready to answer for my crimes.” “Oh you silly girl, we won’t kill our scapegoats, will we? Isn’t that right my fellow sisters?” Demyan says in his ridiculously cheerful manner. That smile takes me back to the West Stave, Heleen bartering over me with the slavers, her sinuous smile each time I resisted her. I eventually did track my slavers, although only Kaz knows of their fate, for he was the one who insisted on having them. Demyan then comes over to us, and the Saint of Death’s face becomes morose. He kneels in front of us, as if pleading with us, and says, “You see, we’re linked directly with humans and grisha. Death. Hospitality. Pathfinder. Our roles were fundamental to the balance of the world, to the smooth passage of souls and justice in the afterlife. However, seeing the Starless One return back to merzost, seeing Juris merge with the Dragonqueen, has made us realize that we thought impossible, was actually just – improbable. You would certainly know about that, wouldn’t you Dirtyhands?” Demyan glances at Kaz, his eyes moist, while Kaz looks at him unflinchingly. Weren’t the Saints destined to perform their duties? Then why are they looking for scapegoats? Demyan comes back to me, his tone rushed as he blurted out his plan. “We long to be free Inej Ghafa. We too long to return back from where we came. We too long to feel.” Yeryin and Marya then float over to us. “A Saint that dispenses justice, must have suffered injustice to be accurate in his judgements. He should be immovable, yet sensitive to the souls he receives. Kaz Brekker, you have shown us the resilience and fury of a Saint.” Yeryin says. Marya then glances at me, and begins, “Jaan, you’re one of my own people, and so I hold a special place for you. The Saint that is the Reaper, who brings over the souls of the dead, must kill without remorse. Must feel for each soul with all of her heart. She must be indiscriminate in her search.” “And you Inej Ghafa have shown us that heart.” Demyan finishes, clasping my hand. “The part is yours, should you keep it. However, remember, you must take it up with free will, for handling the deceased is a far more tedious and draining task than it sounds.”

I look back at Kaz. His eyes are focussed on the ground, his brain coming up with another wild scheme. I look at the Saints with disbelief. All this time, as I, as millions, prayed to them, honouring their martyrdoms with festivals and prayers, the Saints just longed to be human. Kaz finally speaks after what feels like an eternity. “I have a question. Are the Saints willing to answer that?” “But of course. That is the least we can do for you.” says Yeryin.

“You might’ve come across two souls in your eternal career. Jordie, and Pekka Rollins. What fate awaited them?” I ask hesitantly. I am both excited and afraid of the answer the saints hold for me. Marya looks at the Saint of the Book. She rises, and comes towards us, a small register in her hands. She hands it to Marya, and returns back, giving me a not-so subtle side look. Marya searches for the names I asked, clears her throat, and begins. “Pekka Rollins, the leader of the Dimes, a gang in the streets of Ketterdam, was impaled on the thorn wood. He was purged of all his sins, and then chose to return back to merzost. As for Jordie, your brother, he did not choose to stay for long.” I look back at Marya. “His soul… was tormented. Even though he was healed with the waters of Djel, even though we helped his soul discover his unknown gift as a Grisha Tidemaker, he kept searching this garden for you. In the end, he chose to take a single bite of Djel’s fruit, and returned back to merzost, finally at peace.”

Jordie’s fate stuns me into silence. Pekka Rollins snatched our life on Earth, but even in the gardens of paradise my brother kept searching for me. My vision blurs, my brother’s destiny opening a well of sadness in me, his peaceful return to merzost the only respite offered to him. This was the place where Jordie’s soul searched for me. Where he waited and waited for me, until he dissolved back into the heart of the world. And this is where I would choose to stay for eternity, the only place that holds my brother’s peace. I look at Marya, and nod.

Beside me, Inej grasps my hand, and smiles. She then looks down at Demyan, and says, “We will take up the mantel of your duties, O Revered Saints.” I roll my eyes. It’s as if Sturmhond’s vocabulary worms it’s way into Inej’s brain each time she talks to her saints.

The saints all look at each other, then smile and open their arms. “Our powers, are then yours, Wraith and Dirtyhands.” Golden rays, the colour of sundried wheat and barley emit from Yeryin. Ink black waves surge from Demyan while a shower of dirt erupts from Marya. The three slowly disappear, probably to a much better place. The knives Inej gave to them clatter on the ground.

Inej picks up her coat, dusts it off, and shrugs it on. She picks up her knives, touching them to her forehead, and wipes them on her sleeve. “So what do we now?” she asks me. “Well we’re here for eternity, alone, at least till you go off to bring our souls. Let’s have some fun.” I say and suggestively smirk. The Saint of the Book widens her eyes in horror as she looks at us. “Oh keep it in your pants, you perv.” I say, as I give a big shout and run towards the gentle slope along the riverbank, Inej’s soft padded boots following me, as we both tumble into each other and hurtle to the earth.

#soc #six of crows #kaz #inej #kaz brekker #inej ghafa #dirtyhands #the wraith #wraith #leigh bardugo #kanej fic #story time #vasu #sankt demyan of the rime #sankta yeryin of the mill #sankta marya of the rock #grishaverse

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scullydubois · 3 years

Text

Only the Light Ch. 17

Scully meets the Mufon women, who clue her into their shared fate; Mulder accompanies Scully to the OB-GYN after her car breaks down; A mysterious voicemail appears on Scully's machine.

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

The murder of Mulder’s father--and attempted murders of the agents themselves--went the way of many X-Files, becoming another everlasting thorn in their sides. Skinner wasn’t happy with them, but he pitied them, so it was a two-week paper pusher assignment and then they were back at it. Lightning strikes, allusions to immortality from a mortal man, too many prisons and too much death; the calendar advanced, time marched on, and they saw it all but it couldn’t touch them. Wouldn’t, more like. Emotionally stunted, that’s what they are. Holding onto too much pain to process any.

And then comes Mulder’s $29.95 tape and its path to Allentown; a Japanese diplomat, a dead man, and a list of Mufon members wait in its wake. All of which lead Scully to Betsy Hagopian’s doorstep.

These women--whom she has never seen before, nor could not pick from any crowd--know her. They swear. She is one of them, they say, as if that’s supposed to snap everything into perspective. As if the semblance of belonging somewhere will make her spill her guts. But no; she wants to be nothing but herself, and sometimes not even that.

Then there are dozens of cars outside and women surround her, speaking of a place she didn’t know she knew until they said it. A blank slate flashes in her mind; an echo from some past life. She doesn’t believe in reincarnation, so how can that be?

Then the women--these strange women--speak of men & mysterious tests, and a drill sears Scully’s brain, and she’s coming apart, and is this annihilation or healing?

These images--she can hardly call them memories--expand until she’s living inside them. She is doubled, the victim and the spectator. She sees herself on a medical table, a tube spiraling from her belly button. It’s nonsensical, there’s no procedure of the sort. And then, before her unblinking eyes, her stomach grows. Inflated like a balloon. Her warped form...it looks pregnant, and her old fear comes back as a bitter taste in her mouth. Surely this is something seen in a dream, impossible to be reflected in any reality.

The rattle of metal pulls her back to the present. Every woman standing before her holds a capsule containing a microchip, barely perceptible to the eye. Marked...they have been marked. She has too, they say. They have all the scar, and it’s already been established that she is one of them.

Scully’s swept up by the crowd and taken to Betsy Hagopian at Allentown Medical Center. She’s unsure at this point whether she’s investigating the murder case or some vastly larger conspiracy. Or if those are even distinguishable.

She watches as the nurse slides Betsy into the MRI machine, wonders how Betsy feels about them being there as she disappears from view. Scully once thought of making oncology her specialty, back when she was bright-eyed and believed she could save the world. That path would have been paved with pain, sure, but there would be victory, and above all, hope. Her current job fails to put her in such close contact with miracles.

We’re all dying because of what they do to us, Penny Northern says. And how ironic it is, Scully thinks. She and Mulder want the truth--the proof--of some atrocity greater than themselves, and they may have it...once she’s packed into a coffin. How’s that saying go? Be careful what you wish for…

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

The scar at the base of her neck had never stood out to Scully. She can’t see it, and her hair covers it anyway. She had felt it in the shower once, shortly after her return, but she wrote it off as a bug bite. No one had ever commented on it until Penny Northern and the Mufon women; not Missy, not Mulder, not her mother…

Missy had noticed it during one of their face-mask nights in the weeks after the return, but she chose not to say anything, figuring it wasn’t worth adding to her sister’s worry. If she had seen it again recently--known that it hadn’t gone away--she would have said something.

Mulder...well, he never noticed it, and holy shit, he would have given anything for a situation where he could have. Scully never wears her hair up, he’ll blame it on that though it's fruitless. Really, it’s on him. He has a mental map of the places he’s touched her--and the places he won’t. Her neck is on neither one. He hasn’t gotten there yet.

Margaret Scully never saw it, and frankly, she would have thought it was something inappropriate to mention and wished her daughter had worn a turtleneck that day. What else can be said about that?

Thus, as autumn breaks over Washington, the agents crowd into a Bureau lab with Pendrell (or Agent Nerd, as Mulder prefers to call him) to address the intruder put into Scully’s body. Scully’s calm, cool, and collected, but Mulder winces as Pendrell’s tweezers pierce her skin. He’s never had the guts (nor the patience) for the medical profession.

“Yep, I’ve got something,” Pendrell remarks, dropping it into a petri dish. Mulder inches closer to get a good look at the object, and sure enough, it’s a microchip. He’s met with the urge to pocket it and run so that his partner would never have to see it.

Instead, Pendrell presents the dish to Scully. “It looks like a computer chip to me,” he tells her. “Something manufactured.”

Scully squeezes the object between her thumb and forefinger. She looks to Mulder. “This must be what made the metal detector go off in Santa Fe.”

He clears his throat. “Yeah, I remember.” The handsy men at airport security still make his blood boil.

As Scully’s eyes meet Pendrell’s, he feels like he’s staring directly into a spotlight. And he’s not used to having the spotlight on him. “So it’s man-made, you believe?” she asks, as in need of an answer from him as she ever will be.

He blushes. “Well, I don’t know of manufacturing plants on any other planet, but it does look pretty technologically advanced.” He takes the dish over to a microscope and peers through. “I can’t say I’ve seen something of this complexity before.”

Pendrell moves aside so Scully can take a look. She’s not accustomed to using this sort of magnification for anything other than microbes, but the intricacy of the wiring speaks for itself. Loops upon loops upon loops of electric current, all contained in a space smaller than a pea.

She looks up. “It’s like it was storing something…” The idea of her thoughts being catalogued by some malevolent stranger is too terrifying to voice. Both men’s mind’s land on it without any prompting.

Mulder lays a hand on the small of her back and steers her away from the microscope. “We’ll get this all taken care of, okay?” he murmurs. “Pendrell will pinpoint the manufacturer, then we can track them down and help Betsy Hagopian and all those women.” He intentionally leaves out mention of Scully herself. She hates being helpless, he won’t frame her as such.

“Okay,” she squeaks out, and Mulder feels her shiver beneath her buttoned blazer.

Having received his command from Agent Mulder, Pendrell watches him usher Agent Scully out of the lab with complete control over the situation. It’s as if Agent Mulder knows what he’s doing, comforting Agent Scully with such composure. And right in front of Pendrell, too! Pendrell kicks himself for...well, being himself.

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

At ten to four, Scully grabs her purse and unclips her key ring as quietly as possible. Mulder’s in the midst of typing up a report about the Japanese diplomat who sold him the $29.95 tape, and she’d hate to ruin his flow. How alarmed Skinner would be if a Fox Mulder field report didn’t read like a Whitman poem! He’d probably assume the bounty hunter got to his agent.

She straightens her blazer and swings the purse over her shoulder. No need for a coat yet, her usual work attire combats the mid-October chill just fine. As she edges toward the door, the guilt of leaving Mulder without a goodbye stops her in her tracks. He knows about her appointment--knows she has to leave early--but still...it feels wrong to walk out without a word.

Hand against the doorframe, Scully tosses her hair over her shoulder. Her partner types at his desk with the ferocity of a teenage boy playing a video game. He even looks like one, with those wiry glasses. She can’t help but smile...these are the ordinary moments she will miss one day.

Setting her lips in a line, she pipes up--”I’ve gotta go, Mulder. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He’s instantly snapped from his trance. “Whoa whoa whoa.” He lays his glasses beside the computer, rubs the red mark on his nose. “Let me walk you down.”

“That’s not necessary,” Scully assures, one kitten heel out the door. “I can navigate the parking garage on my own.”

Mulder pops up from his chair, rounds his desk. “Well, the parking garage, yeah. But haven’t you heard that the Hoover Building is unaccustomed to beautiful women roaming its halls? Who knows what might happen if I send you up there by yourself.”

Scully gives him the unamused smirk he’s fishing for, tries to ignore the way his sleeves cuff over his elbow. “I only have to go through the lobby. I think I can hold any admirers off for those twenty steps.”

“You’re right, I should have faith in you.” He ruffles a hand through his hair. “At least let me escort you to the elevator.”

“If you must.” Scully turns sideways.

He slides past her, winking as he does. It’s infuriating, really, how smooth he can be when he wants to.

Scully follows him down the hallway, wondering if she’s finally grown into the giddy teenager her mother feared she would be. He hits the up button for her, then clasps his hands together--the only time he’s ever been the epitome of patience.

“I hate to pull you away from your next masterpiece for Skinner,” Scully teases, trying to break his gentlemanly bit.

“Oh, an artist knows no timetable,” he responds, barely taking his eyes off the elevator door. He taps his foot...they always joke that the FBI takes an elevator tax out of their paychecks for making it go all the way to the basement.

Scully looks at the floor. A moment ago, she felt like the object of Mulder’s affections. Now, she’s shut out again.

At the sound of the doors gliding open, she steps in. No need to wait for passengers to disembark; nobody comes down here. She hits the first floor button, offers Mulder a weak smile. “See you--”

He sticks his hand out as the doors begin to close and ducks into the space, taking his place beside her. She should have known...his goofy grin confirms that he’s been planning this all along. They begin their brief ascent to the next floor.

“You know, I’m having deja vu, but I’m gonna say this anyway,” Scully starts. “You’re crazy, Mulder.”

“And I’m sure I’ve said this before Scully, but it wouldn’t hurt to hear it again--thank you,” he replies.

Scully rolls her eyes, but god, this is much more fun than being alone. The elevator banks on the landing, and she looks to her partner as the doors open onto the lobby. “Did you lose your faith in me, or did you never have it in the first place?” she asks, taking extra long strides to keep up with him as they make their way toward the parking garage.

“What, about the whole holding off your admirers thing?”

Scully nods.

“I figured back-up wouldn’t hurt.” He slips his hands in his pockets, giving himself an air of pretension. As Scully watches him, she gets the notion that it’s all carefully calculated. It makes her feel both powerful and annoyed. She is the damsel, and he is framing himself as prince charming, though she is not in distress.

They make it to the parking garage and take another elevator up to Scully’s level. “Skinner’s gonna want that report before you leave tonight, you know,” Scully tells him, surprised that he has followed this far.

“I’ll burn the midnight oil if I have to,” he replies casually. And she can’t argue with that, cause she knows he will.

While he looks for her car, she takes a long glance at his face. He spies her sedan, and they set off in that direction.

“You don’t have to baby me,” she reminds him, almost apologetic. “I made it through med school and Quantico. If anyone is capable of--”

“It’s not about whether you’re capable, Scully. You are. But you should never have had to go through all that in the first place. It’s not fair, what you’ve dealt with.”

“Life’s not--”

“--fair. Yeah, I know, that’s why I don’t believe in God,” Mulder deadpans.

Scully gives him the infamous look. He shrugs. “It’s the truth!”

They make it to her car, and Scully lays a hand on the driver’s door. “Alright, Mulder. It looks like we’ve both learned something about each other. Very productive conversation.”

“Good thing I came all the way down here, huh.” He flashes a smile that would disarm a scorpion. Scully feels it in her core. She tightens her grip on the door, pulling it open.

“Bye, Mulder,” she prods, sliding into the driver’s seat.

He salutes her. “Bye-bye.”

He stays at the front of her parking spot as she cranks--or rather, tries to crank--her car. The engine gurgles at her in protest. One twist, two twists, three twists, nothing. She pulls the key out of the ignition and opens the door.

“It won’t start...battery’s dead, I think.”

Mulder leans against her door. “Let me try.”

Scully shuffles herself into the passenger’s seat and he settles in, finding himself squished against the steering wheel with her seat settings. He laughs and jams the key into place. The engine won’t give under his hand either.

He rests his elbow on the console and stares at his partner. Her eyes darken. “I don’t have jumper cables, do you?”

“I’m not a jumper cable man, no,” he mutters.

Scully knocks her head against the back of her seat, covers her face with her hands. “My appointment’s at 4:30. I got the latest one of the day…”

“Okay, okay, no problem.” Mulder taps her shoulder. “I’ll take you.”

She uncovers her face. “But what about the report…?”

“You really think Skinner’s gonna be surprised by another late report?”

She bites her lip. “Fine, fine. It’s off 6th Street, I’ll tell you how to get there.”

“And we can pick up jumper cables on the way back,” Mulder adds.

“Perfect.”

They hop out of the car and head for Mulder’s. Scully watches him out of the corner of her eye--he’s striding along, completely unbothered by this inconvenience. She is struck with the notion that he is a better person than her in some crucial ways.

“Do you have your keys?” she pipes up, always bringing reality into the picture.

He taps his pocket. “Right here.”

“You’re saving my ass, Mulder--thank you.”

“I was the ass hero of Oxford. I’m glad to be of service.”

Scully shakes her head, her smile eclipsing a laugh. “Please don’t ever tell me the story behind that, ” she giggles.

“Your loss.”

And as she looks over at him in the dingy parking garage, she knows that this is exactly where she’s meant to be.

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

He wasn’t planning to go in with her--he expected that she’d make a fuss about it if he asked, and it wasn’t his business anyway. He’s surprised, then, when he pulls into a spot at the clinic and she raises an eyebrow when he doesn't turn the engine off.

“Are you coming?” she asks, one leg sticking out of the car.

“Y-you want me to go with you?” he stutters.

Scully shrinks back. “Were you planning on going back to the office? I’m not sure how long the appointment will take, but I hate to make you drive all over the place.”

“No, I was just gonna chill in here. I thought you wouldn’t want me…”

“Oh.” Scully’s out of the car now, her purse swung over her shoulder. “Well, it’s just an ultrasound, so you can come if you want. I bet you’ve never been to an OB-GYN before…”

Mulder shakes his head. “Never had the pleasure. You know I’m all for new experiences, though.”

“Come on, then.” She slams the door closed and starts walking toward the building, playing hard to get in her own little way.

Mulder cuts the engine, locks up the car, and jogs after her. Not a usual occurrence, but he likes the role-reversal.

“So is there anything I should know,” he pants as he catches up with her, “before I walk in? Is there some kind of universal girl code that governs these places?”

“The only naked women you’re about to see are in anatomical diagrams, if that’s what you’re referring to.”

“Oh, so it’s not a communal kinda thing?”

“Jesus, Mulder. That’s a male fantasy if I’ve ever heard one.”

“Hey, men have urinals and locker rooms, it’s only fair that women have some arena for comparison too,” he attests.

Continuing the role-reversal, Scully holds the door for him. “Clearly, we have different priorities,” she says as he strides through. He chuckles at her as he enters, feeling no insecurity about standing out. He’s not the lone man in the waiting room, but he is the only one without a visibly pregnant wife.

He looks around while Scully checks in. The room, he feels, is misleadingly similar to any other doctor’s office. Daytime housewife fodder on TV, issues of magazines that are barely from this decade, and posters preaching about the flu shot...some unsuspecting man might walk in here because he stubbed his toe and walk out with images in his brain that’ll haunt him for the rest of his life.

He takes a seat at the far edge of the room, Scully joining him a moment later with a clipboard.

He points at the entry to the back--“I feel like they should have a sign on that door that says ‘beware: health class flashbacks ahead. And not the good ones.’”

“If you’re a woman, it’s no flashback,” she tells him, focused on filling out the forms. “It’s just what you deal with everyday.”

“Okay, but imagine men had to go to a place like this, and you had to go back there.”

She looks up. “Mulder, you know I do autopsies on dead bodies, right?” Then, with a smirk--”Besides, I’ve never known you to be squeamish about naked women.”

“Right, but this is like...I’m used to looking at the completed painting, and now I’m seeing the paint-by-number. Not so pretty.”

“Maybe you should go sit in the car…” Scully says with a hint of a tease.

“I digress.” He glances absentmindedly at what she’s writing, then looks away.

Scully notices and meets his eye. “You know what I’m here for, right?”

Without intending to, he read it off her paper. “Follicle ultrasound?”

“Yes, but do you know why? ”

Mulder holds his mouth open like he’ll catch an answer that way. “Uh…” he starts, classic caught-off guard college student.

Scully jots the last marks on her forms. “To check my egg reserve and see if anything’s changed since the last time. To see if there’s any possibility of me having a biological child, essentially.”

“Huh,” Mulder hums dumbly. Way to make an asshole of himself, cracking jokes at a time like this. He wishes it were socially acceptable to walk around with tape over your mouth.

“I’m sorry, Scully. I didn’t realize the situation was so dire.”

“It’s okay. It’s not your fault.”

It’s funny she says that, because at that exact moment Mulder is thinking about how it is his fault, and where’s the nearest bridge? He realizes then, too, that maybe she wants him there so she’s not alone for whatever the results say, and boy, this is more than he bargained for when he offered to drive her.

He turns to her, his glance far shyer than usual. “So this is the follow-up to your first ultrasound?”

Scully nods. “It’s been almost a year.”

“But you…” he tries to arrange the words in as courteous a manner as possible. “Are you still premenopausal?”

Scully crosses one leg over the other. She’s pleasantly surprised that he cares about this. “No, I’m on birth control to regulate my cycles. But that doesn’t matter if I don’t have enough eggs left for potential fertilization. Fertility and menstruation are not necessarily linked.”

“But there’s an upside to that, right? Aren’t there health risks with early menopause?”

“Yep.”

Mulder’s not sure whether she’s answering his first question or his second one. He lets it be, and good thing, because a nurse calls Scully’s name moments later. He follows her into the back like an eager to please puppy, playing it cool until the nurse pipes up.

“Mr. & Mrs. Scully, how are you?”

“Not married ,” Scully clarifies, amused.

“Oh,” the nurse takes a stray glance at her clipboard. “I’m sorry.” She gestures toward Mulder. “You are…?”

“Fox Mulder. I’m her partner.”

“Oh, okay. I see. Gender-neutral language, very inclusive.”

“He’s my FBI partner,” Scully grumbles, giving Mulder a punch in the bicep for his purposeful vagueness. “I work at the Bureau.”

“Ah. Makes sense.” The nurse waves them into an exam room then closes the door behind herself. As she reads over Scully’s chart, Mulder’s presence makes less and less sense to her, and she addresses her patient with pitched confusion in her voice.

“So you are here for a follow-up antral follicle count...?”

“Yes ma’am.”

The nurse reads from the chart. “Your first one was roughly eleven months ago and indicated low fertility. Five follicles were counted.”

Scully nods.

“But since then, you’ve started hormonal birth control and now have stable menstrual cycles, is that correct?”

“Yes.”

“Alright.” The nurse makes note of this, then looks to Scully. “If you could come with me for a moment, we’re gonna get your weight, and then Dr. Zapolsky will be right in for the ultrasound.”

Alone in the strange room, Mulder’s met with fascination, not fear. He’s never seen an exam chair with stirrups in real life, and it makes him chuckle, reminiscent of birth scenes in slapstick comedies. On the counter is a 3D model of the uterus, which is pretty cool if he’s being honest. Remove the labels and it’s a modern art piece...and he means that with all due respect. His reproductive system would not make a nice decoration, that’s for sure.

He’s reading a poster about each trimester of pregnancy when Scully and the nurse come back in. Did you know that babies can be frightened by loud noises while they’re still in the womb? he wants to ask, but Scully knows everything, so she probably already knows that.

Scully settles into the exam chair as best she can. She locks eyes with Mulder, and he winks at her--again. It puts a genuine smile on her face, which has never happened in this room. The nurse exits quietly, but they are still there, and so is the smile.

They don’t speak at first. Silence is good when it’s comfortable, they have learned, and it’s always comfortable for them. Until Mulder begins to worry that Scully’s head might be spinning with dark thoughts, and he can’t have that. He thumbs toward the poster. “Did you know that loud noises can frighten babies through the womb?”

Scully’s gaze falls upon him, warm and light. “I’ve always thought that was just an old wife’s tale. I never saw it demonstrated during my obstetrics rotation.”

“Well, it’s on the poster. It’s gotta be true,” he wisecracks.

The door opens, and the majestic Dr. Zapolsky saunters in.

“Let’s ask Dr. Zapolsky,” Scully suggests.

“What’s that?” The doctor rolls the ultrasound machine to the center of the room.

“We were wondering if it’s true that babies in the womb can spook at loud noises,” Scully explains.

“It’s on the poster,” Mulder adds.

“Oh! Yes! But not until around 28 weeks.” Dr. Zapolsky sits down on her stool. “You never saw that during your rotations?”

Scully shakes her head.

“It presents as a kick, and as long as the exposure to the noise is not continuous, it’s harmless.”

“Good to know...I guess,” Scully finishes, wondering why Mulder fixated on that of all things.

Dr. Zapolsky scoots toward her patient. “How are you doing, Dana?”

Scully musters a smile. “I’m okay. Much better than I was last year at this time.”

“And who is your guest…?” she asks, swerving toward Mulder.

“Mulder, my partner at the Bureau. My car went dead, so he had to drive me.”

“Ah! Hello Mulder.”

Mulder nods. “Nice to meet you.”

“I see you’ve gained some weight since your last visit,” Dr. Zapolsky tells Scully. “That’s a good thing--fueling your body allows it to put energy toward ovarian function.”

Scully tries to accept this as a compliment, though she’s been conditioned not to view it as one.

The doctor continues. “And you’re doing well on your birth control? Any problems with it?”

“Nope, everything’s working out.”

“Wonderful.” Zapolsky clasps her hands together. “Looks like we’re all set for the ultrasound. Go ahead and lie back.”

Scully does so.

“I’ll need you to pull your waistband and underwear down. Let me get you a sheet for cover.” She slides over to the cabinets and pulls out a disposable blue blanket, which she drapes over Scully’s bent knees.

Mulder turns his head away as Scully shimmies off her skirt of choice--black, pencil, from the clearance rack at J. Crew, per usual. Not that he’d be able to see anything since she already has cover, but he’s not risking any disrespect. Scully’s not paying attention to him, and it’s a testament to the trust they have developed.

Dr. Zapolsky grabs the ultrasound wand and takes it under the sheet, using the image on the monitor to guide it into place. “Everything feel alright?” she asks Scully, who nods.

The three occupants focus intently on the screen; two of them have a clear sense of what they’re looking for, and one has no idea. A few circles appear on the monitor, narrowly standing out from the background.

“There they are, right?” Scully inquires with tension in her voice.

Dr. Zapolsky nods. “Those are your follicles. What do you notice?”

Scully’s eyes search the screen. “There’s not many.”

“I’m afraid not. Six. One more than last time, but not the improvement you would need.” Dr. Zapolsky frowns. “Two low antral follicle counts qualifies you for a diagnosis of primary ovarian insufficiency. There’s no clear treatment plan, it simply functions as a label for your condition.”

Scully sits with this numbness as her doctor removes the ultrasound wand and cleans up. She wants to look at Mulder, read his face, but he’s over her shoulder and she can’t bend that way just yet. She takes a breath and pulls her skirt back on.

“So there’s no hope, then?” Her voice shakes. “Of carrying a child with one of my own eggs?”

The doctor finishes washing her hands and turns back toward her patient. “There’s a five to ten percent conception rate for women with POI. If you’re dead-set on it, IVF using an egg donor is your best option. Personally, I don’t recommend it at those odds. It’s very expensive and can take quite a physical toll.” She pats her patient’s hand. “I’m so sorry, Dana.”

With tears threatening to break her composure, Scully cranes her neck toward Mulder. He’s her escape hatch, but he’s not doing much better. His hands are squeezed into fists, his eyes dark. “I’m sorry, Scully,” he murmurs. “You don’t deserve this.”

And even if he’s right it doesn’t make any difference, because this is what she’s gotten, and this is what she must deal with. Gravity’s full brunt bears down on her body and spirit, and she wonders once again if God intends her for heaven or for hell.

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

The sun is sinking below the horizon by the time Scully sets her keys on her front table. If she wasn’t exhausted before, she is after buying jumper cables and using Mulder’s car to start hers. She hears clanging pots and pans and can only hope it’s her sister home from the lunch shift.

Forcing her tired body into the kitchen, Scully finds Melissa at the stove. The smell of marinara sauce wafts through the air.

Missy looks away from the boiling pasta she’s stirring. “Hello jellybean!” Neither one of them knows where the new nickname came from, but neither one is against it either.

“Hey Missy,” Scully says as she plops into a dining chair. She slides off her heels and stretches her toes.

“How was your day?”

“Alright,” Scully sighs. “Paperwork and then my ultrasound appointment, but my battery died so Mulder had to take me.”

“Oh my goodness!” Missy turns the heat down on the stove and strides over to her sister. “I forgot that was today...how was it?”

Scully looks up through her lashes. “Not good, Missy.”

“No?” Missy slides into the adjacent chair. “Were your counts still low?”

Scully nods, picks a piece of lint off her skirt. “Too low. Doc says I have primary ovarian insufficiency. Basically, it’s highly unlikely I’ll be able to have a child with my own egg.”

“God…” Missy sandwiches one of her sister’s hands between both of hers. “I’m so sorry. That’s not what you wanted to hear, I know.”

Across the way, the boiling water sings a siren song, and Missy reluctantly makes her way back toward it. “You’ll have to accept my condolences in the form of food cause I’m too far into this to stop now.”

“Oh, I will.” She’d be having a salad or...well, probably nothing, if Missy wasn’t here. Scully leans back, examines the ceiling, then rubs her eyes. “Did you know that babies can spook at loud noises through the womb? At 28 weeks, at least.”

“No, I didn’t,” Missy answers with gusto, happy to distract her sister.

“Mulder read it on some poster, and I didn’t think it was true, but it turns out it is,” Scully rambles.

“Mulder read it...?” Missy echoes. “He went in with you?”

“Uh-huh.” Scully’s immune to the usual implications of her sister’s curiosity. She’s had too much of a day to argue that Mulder isn’t as integral a part of her life as he is. “It was nice...I was happy not to be alone.”

“I’m sure,” Missy says, pouring the ravioli into a colander. “Mulder’s a good guy.”

“Mm-hm.” Scully chews the inside of her cheek. She can’t discern whether she’s failing to repress a feeling or experiencing one anew, but it’s in that ballpark.

Having put the pasta in a serving bowl, Missy spoons sauce over it like she’s auditioning for a cooking show. “There was an interesting voicemail on the machine when I got in,” she begins.

“Yeah? A telemarketer? Scammer?”

“I don’t think so. It’s odd, but it sounds quite urgent.”

Missy hits a button on the answering machine. A gruff voice fills the room. “Hello, this is Agent Feniston from the California Bureau of Investigation looking for a Ms. Scully. I am contacting you on behalf of the California Department of Social Services foster care system. Please get back to me as soon as possible at 619-555-1334. Thank you.”

It does sound legitimate, Scully can’t argue with that. She raises an eyebrow at her sister. “You were in California for a while, weren’t you?”

Missy pops a ravioli into her mouth, wipes some wandering sauce off her lip. “The Bay area, mostly,” she says between bites. “The 619 area code is--”

“San Diego. I remember, that’s what our number started with when we lived by the shipyard.”

Missy nods. “I know I’m considered the free spirit in this family, but no child of mine is running wild in California. Let’s clear that up right now,” she chuckles.

“I mean, we don’t have any details,” Scully says. “They probably just need you to testify whether some friend of yours is stable enough to resume custody of their child.”

“Does that sound like something that would warrant a call from the Bureau of Investigation? ” Missy challenges, scooping a hefty portion of pasta into a bowl and handing it to her sister.

Scully takes it and grabs a fork. “If they couldn’t find any other way to contact you.”

Missy stops, looks at her sister with a pointed glare.

“What?” Scully shrugs.

“Darling,” Missy continues, “no one I knew in California has this number, nor any way to determine that I’m living with you.”

Scully lifts the fork to her mouth, freezing before it makes it there. “You think the call is for me?”

“I think it’s a possibility,” she says, taking a seat across from her sister.

Scully scoffs. “I haven’t been to California in ages. There was a case in Marin County, but it’s been two years now.”

“That’s funny,” Missy muses. “I was living there then.”

“Can we stay on topic, please?” Scully tucks a lock of hair behind her ear. “I’m not fond of having a random call from the California foster system on my answering machine.”

“Then call Agent Feniston back, and it won’t be random anymore.” Missy gets up, glances at the clock, and grabs the phone off its receiver. “It’s only 3:30 in Californiaaaaa,” she sing-songs, dangling it in front of her sister.

Scully pouts, but lets the weight of the phone rest in her hand. “Can you play the voicemail again? I need the number…”

Feniston addresses them for a second time, and Scully taps the keypad in concert with his directions: 619-555-1334.

#hello i am very excited for what's to come <3 #anyone who has stuck with this is now my best friend #thank you and MWAH #only the light fic #missy and scully fic #the x-files #txf #txf fic #fox mulder #dana scully #melissa scully #mine

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ragingbookdragon · 3 years

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Balsam Firs In Winter Wonderlands

A Connor Kenway x Reader One-Shot

Word Count: 1,330 Warnings: Explicit Language

Author’s Note: I figured I’d do a Connor fic too because I started this month with him. Enjoy! -Thorne

“I do not understand why we are doing this, (Y/N). Are there not trees by the manor?”

Though she loved Connor more than there were stars in the sky, she let out a dramatic sigh, eyes directed to the bright blue sky above them. “Ratonhnhaké:ton. For the last time, we’re finding a Balsam tree so we can chop it down and take it back.”

“But…why?” Connor couldn’t help but grin as she heaved a leg up to step into the knee-deep snow.

“Because it’s a Christmas tradition to chop one down and decorate it in the living room. That’s why.” (Y/N) looked over her shoulder. “And I’d never claim to be a weak woman but I’m no lumberjack. So, I need you, big-guy.”

He scowled at the nickname and walked beside her, the snow crunching underneath his boots with each step. “I am not big.”

(Y/N) snorted. “Have you looked in the mirror? Hell, you don’t even need to look in the mirror. Have you ever looked at yours and others height differences? You’re like six foot four. And you probably weigh close to two hundred pounds.” She looked at him. “You’re kinda big, Ratonhnhaké:ton. Like, Tower-Over-Everyone-Big.”

Connor’s eyes lowered to his stomach, hands pressing into the area and she let out a groan. “I don’t mean you’re fat, Ratonhnhaké:ton. I mean you’re big. You know, broad shoulders and chest. You’re long legg—oh just forget it.” she huffed. “You’re a giant and that’s all you need to know”

“That sounds a lot like an insult.” He countered, gently grabbing her hand to keep her from falling, his free hand coming to her hip. His fingers automatically laced with hers, calloused thumb brushing the back of her hand.

“You can’t help picking it all apart, can you?” (Y/N) squeezed his hand. “You’re a gentle giant.”

His brows furrowed, and even with his hood up, she could tell he was confused. “And that means?”

She spun and wrapped her arms around his waist, peering into his golden eyes. From this sight, she could see the tiny flecks of green imbedded in his irises. His eyes were so beautiful to her. “It means you’re a man who’s tall and strong but gentle and quiet.” (Y/N) grinned. “It means you’re the perfect man for me and no one would ever take your place.”

Connor’s cheeks started to turn red and he murmured, “Otsi’tsa, stop.”

“But you’re so adorable when you get embarrassed! It’s rather endearing to see!” she giggled, rolling her eyes at his heatless glare. “Alright, I’ll give.” She released him, spinning on her heel to march off when she tripped, faceplanting into the snow.

“Ugh!” she sputtered, spitting out snow. Her head shot up when she heard unabashed laughter from above and (Y/N) rolled over, glowered at him. “Stop laughing at me!” she hissed. “That’s not nice!”

Connor merely chuckled and reached out. “But you are so adorable when you get embarrassed, Otsi’tsa.” He was using her own words against her, and she was about to pay him back.

She grabbed his hands and pulled as hard as she could manage, and with him unsuspecting of it, came toppling into the snow with her.

“Ha!” she shouted. “How do you like that!”

His hood fell off during the fall and she stared at the snow covering his hair. (Y/N) giggled, reaching up to brush it off.

His eyes narrowed into a pointed look. “That was childish, (Y/N).”

“Perhaps,” she retorted, tracing his cheek then the bottom of his lower lip. “But it made you smile, didn’t it?” Sure enough a grin crossed on his lips and he titled his chin up, waiting with an expecting look.

She arched an amused eyebrow. “Can I help you, Ratonhnhaké:ton?”

Usually he’d become flustered, but it seemed that his mind was focused. “Kiss me.”

She huffed. “What? No, ‘may I have a kiss please’? Are we just going straight into demands now?”

Connor wasn’t fazed by her words at all, merely stating, “You told me to be more demanding of your affection when I wanted it.”

(Y/N) felt her cheeks heat up and she let out a huff. “Well yeah, but I didn’t think you’d actually do it.” She leaned down and pecked his lips. “There. Happy?”

He shook his head. “No. More.” Connor met her eyes and whispered in that low, sweet voice that made her stomach flip, “Please.”

“Nice manners, big-guy,” she murmured and pecked his lips again. (Y/N) pressed her forehead to his and stared into his amber eyes. “You know, being here with you almost makes me forget what we’re doing. Like I could forget and lay here in the snow and kiss you all day.”

His eyes lit up, almost making her snort. “We could forget for a bit?” he offered with a hopeful tone.

She pretended to think on it, then quipped, “Nah, we need a good Christmas tree in the manor.” (Y/N) started to move but his arms shot out, wrapping around her waist.

“Nooooo.” He moaned. “Let us stay and forget about the tree.”

“Ratonhnhaké:ton, we have to get up and go chop some poor Balsam Fir down.”

He grunted in response and she sighed.

“Don’t make me make you.”

“And what will you even do, (Y/N)?” he teased, but something in his eye made her feel challenged and she hummed.

“You started it.” Before he could ask, she grabbed the back collar of his robes and lifted, shoving a handful of snow down the back of his shirt.

She’d never in the world would assume that Connor was capable of squealing, but he did, much like the pigs on the homestead and rolled away from her, trying to shake out the freezing liquid his shirt.

(Y/N) cackled and found her feet, not even waiting to run off in the opposite direction, knowing he’d give chase once he got his composure back.

“Get back here!” she heard and with one glance over her shoulder, she let out a yelp and picked up the pace. But in the snow, she wasn’t going very fast.

“I am going to catch you!”

“Catch me if you can, Ratonhnhaké:ton! We both know you won’t!” she shot back and disappeared between the multitude of Balsam trees.

“Where are you!” he called, but with how far she’d gotten inside, he’d have to look a while.

(Y/N) felt her heart thumping against her ribcage and she did all she could to quiet her breathing and her steps. She swallowed thickly and hid behind one of the trees, quickly peeking out before stepping out, moving to the next one.

A rustle sounded behind her and she spun, heart pounding, but it was only a fox. It scampered off into the bottoms of the trees and she let out an airy giggle. (Y/N) turned back around and met a firm chest.

A scream tore through her and she shot out, shoving against him in response. She lost her feet and collapsed at his, pressing a hand to her chest. (Y/N) laid back in the snow and breathed heavily, trying to calm her pulsing heart. “Oh my god,” she panted, and Connor appeared above her.

He lowered his hood and worried, “Are you alright, (Y/N)?”

She nodded lightly, giggling, “You scared the hell out of me, Ratonhnhaké:ton.”

A smile grew on his face. “I told you I would catch you.”

�� “You win,” (Y/N) submitted and Connor lowered himself to lay beside her. He laced their fingers and she asked, “Did you even have to look for me?”

“No.” he said matter-of-factly. “You left tracks.”

“Could’ve lied,” she grumbled, causing him to chuckle.

“I do not lie.”

“I’m well aware of that, Ratonhnhaké:ton. Well aware.” (Y/N) turned her head and looked at him. “Other than scaring me within an inch of my life, thank you for coming with me.”

He smiled. “Of course, Otsi’tsa. I love you.”

She leaned close and nuzzled his shoulder. “I love you more.”

#connor kenway x reader #connor kenway x reader imagine #connor kenway x reader imagines #connor kenway imagine #connor kenway imagines #connor kenway #Ratonhnhaké:ton #ac3 #ac3 imagine #ac3 imagines #assassins creed 3 #assassins creed 3 imagines #assassins creed 3 imagine #ac imagines #ac imagine #assassins creed imagine #assassins creed imagines

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musicismylife0818 · 2 years

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I posted 960 times in 2021

9 posts created (1%)

951 posts reblogged (99%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 105.7 posts.

I added 34 tags in 2021

#commander fox - 7 posts

#commanderfoxweek2021 - 6 posts

#star wars - 4 posts

#jaster mereel - 3 posts

#jango fett - 3 posts

#knocker (my first clone oc) - 3 posts

#quinlan vos - 2 posts

#they're so cute - 2 posts

#funny - 2 posts

#commander cody - 2 posts

Longest Tag: 77 characters

#pay no attention to the strangely grave-like hole in the ground to your right

My Top Posts in 2021

Commander Fox Week Day Five

Title: Day Five: Healing

Prompt: Healing

Warnings: Numerous non-descriptive mentions of blood, Quinlan is dealing with a bit of shock from both his psychometry and the evidence of Palpatine's Sithness,

Relationships: Fox/Quinlan

Characters: CC-1010 | Fox, Quinlan Vos, Palpatine (mentioned)

Additional Tags: Psychometry, Psychometry isn't fun, Quinlan Vos needs a hug, CC-1010 | Fox needs a hug, Palpatine gets found out, Palpatine is a monster, Caring for a loved one, First Aid, Gentleness, Terms of endearment, Communication, Communication between partners

Summary: In which Fox isn't the one who needs healing, but it hurts all the same

@loving-fox-hours

The fic itself: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33230245

6 notes • Posted 2021-08-13 21:59:02 GMT

Commander Fox Week Day Six

Title: Day Six: Victory

Prompt: Victory

Warnings: None

Characters: CC-1010 | Fox, CC-4477 | Thire

Additional Tags: Extremely short, Silly, Thire is a bit of a sore loser, idk if space has chess in canon, but it sure does now, finally a fic that isn't angsty in the slightest

Summary: Fox wins, Thire whines

@loving-fox-hours

The fic itself: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33250804

7 notes • Posted 2021-08-14 20:38:02 GMT

Commander Fox Week Day 1

Title: Day 1: Loyal Prompt: Loyal Warnings: Reference of Fives' death, mention of bullying, mention of familial betrayal Relationships: Fox/Quinlan Characters: Commander Fox, Fives, Thire, Thorn, Stone, OC clone, Rex, Cody, Gregor, Anakin Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi, Quinlan Vos (Everyone except Fox is mentioned only) Additional Tags: Minor CC-1010 | Fox/Quinlan Vos, CC-2224 | Cody's Name Is Kote, The Vode are not kind to Fox in this one, The Coruscant Guard are protective of Fox, they go all space!porcupine in his defense, post-S6E4, after Fives dies, Commander Fox Week 2021 Summary: Fox is loyal, even when the only people who return that loyalty are his @loving-fox-hours The work itself: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33144667

7 notes • Posted 2021-08-09 21:40:41 GMT

Commander Fox Week Day Three

Title: Day Three: Time Travel

Prompt: Time Travel

Warnings: Description of jet pack failure as caused by slugthrower, unspecific description of heavily injured knee (once, brief),

Note on Warnings: This fic could easily settle as complete the way it is, but there is decent potential for a second chapter, which would touch on topics of: decommissioning, dehumanization, social isolation, abandonment by siblings, Jango's traumatized reaction to learning Jaster would've died if Fox hadn't been there, and both Fox and Jango's reactions to discussion of Canon!Jango's wonderful (so much sarcasm) parenting of any clone not named Boba. None of these topics are mentioned in what is currently posted. I know this is non-standard, but I wanted to warn everyone well in advance.

Characters: CC-1010 | Fox, Jaster Mereel, Montross (briefly), Jango Fett (mentioned, for now)

Additional Tags: Time Travel, Jaster Mereel lives, the hazards of jet packs, I know nothing about Korda VI, I know nothing about guns of any galaxy, might get a second chapter, attempted use of mando'a

Summary: Fox might not know the how, but he sure figures out the when pretty fast.

@loving-fox-hours

The fic itself: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33187837

8 notes • Posted 2021-08-11 22:04:28 GMT

Commander Fox Week Day 2

Title: Day 2: Forgiveness

Prompt: Forgiveness

Warnings: Discussion of, but not focusing on, familial betrayal, brief discussion of familial abandonment, mention of Fives' death (in this case, that it's not what it appears)

Characters: Commander Fox, Commander Cody, Captain Rex (mentioned), ARC trooper Fives (mentioned), ARC trooper Echo (mentioned), Thire (briefly), Thorn (briefly), Stone (briefly), Knocker (OC, briefly), Pulse (OC clone medic, briefly)

Additional tags: Cody's name is Kote, Slight AU of day 1, a hard conversation is had, forgiving and forgetting are not the same thing, mind healers exist in the GFFA, Fox gets one

Summary: Sometimes, healing means forgiving, and then walking away.

@loving-fox-hours

The fic itself: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33165331

8 notes • Posted 2021-08-10 20:40:07 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

#my 2021 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

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redrobinhoods · 3 years

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Sticks and Stones | Chapter 4, one real thing

AO3 Link | 1,900 words (approx) | Chapter 1, Chapter 3, Chapter 5

A/N: This was going to be the second to last chapter and now it isn't. A little kinder slice of life is planned for the next chapter before the end of the fic. Still have some events mentioned in other fics I want to fit in here.

Chapter Summary: Stone checks in on Fox- and Senator Chuchi- while he is recovering.

Two days, later, Fox was back. While it would take a little longer for him to be cleared for return to active duty, he was to resume his other work in the meantime. Stone could hear the slight commotion in the main offices when Fox entered, a few minutes after he himself had settled into his chair with a cup of caf, but he waited a few minutes to allow Fox to settle in as well before going to check on him.

When Stone opened the door to Fox’s office, he found Senator Chuchi already inside. He had expected that. What he hadn’t expected was for her to be signing a pile of flimsiwork with a near exact replica of Fox’s signature.

“Commander Stone!” She chirped at him as he entered.

“Senator Chuchi.” He greeted, looking past her to where Fox was slumped over, propped up on his elbow, reading through a datapad. He looked exhausted.

“Please, Commander Stone. Would you call me Riyo?”

Stone felt like his tongue was stuck to the roof of his mouth. She couldn’t have just asked him that. ‘Riyo’ was Fox’s name for her, not his. “Why?”

“You’ve been a dear comfort to me as of the past few months. Much too dear for you to formally address me in moments like this.” She smiled up at him before turning back to the flimsiplast before her. Stone watched over her shoulder as her fingers directed the writing instrument in her hand into another near perfect replica of Fox’s signature. “Commander?” She prodded when she didn’t get a response, and that was when it clicked for Stone.

“If I can call you Riyo, you can just call me Stone, ma’am.”

“Okay, Stone.”

“Okay, Riyo.” It felt forbidden, but so, technically, was Riyo’s love for his brother.

She looked back at him with a smile before returning to the flimsi before her.

The moment gone, Stone turned his gaze back to Fox. “Are you okay?”

“I’m great.” Fox rasped. “Why do you ask?”

“You look like some being tied you to the back of their speeder and drove circles in a swamp for a few hours with you dragging behind like a shiny in the heat.” Stone made his way around the desk to Fox’s side, taking off a glove as he did so that he could press the back of his hand to Fox’s cheek. “I’m surprised you don’t have a fever.”

“Let me guess, I’ve got more colors in my face than a varactyl feather?”

“Something like that.” Stone chuckled. “Keep your helmet on if you talk to Thire later. He doesn’t need to worry about you right now.”

“Is Commander Thire okay?” Riyo asked with worry in her voice.

“In confidence, Sen- Riyo, the Chancellor has been very demanding as of late. It’s wearing him down.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?” She pressed, and Stone could understand why Fox adored her so. He couldn’t imagine most senators would so genuinely want to help a clone.

Fox solemnly shook his head. “We’ll take care of him, Ri.”

“I’ll let you know if we can’t get more lysinate.” Stone gave her what he hoped was an understanding smile. “It helps the headaches to a degree.”

“Is lysinate the strongest drug you have?”

Stone avoided a direct answer to her question. “It takes the edge off. And we need to be deployable at a moment’s notice. I think Fox is on the strongest drug I’ve ever seen at the moment.”

“His prescription isn’t classified as a strong painkiller.” Riyo protested.

“It is for clones.” Fox shrugged. “Just a flesh wound.”

“I saw your guts, Fox. We both did.” Stone scoffed. “That’s not a just flesh wound.”

“Well, both of my intestines are apparently still in one piece so I would classify this as a flesh wound. It’s my injury, Stone. I get to decide how bad it is.”

“That’s not how it works, Fox.” Riyo laughed before turning her head in Stone’s direction. “Has he always been like this?”

“As long as I’ve known him. I feel sorry for his batchmates back on Kamino, having to live with him all the time.” Though Fox began to protest, Stone continued. “The first memory I have of Fox was listening to him and Wolffe argue from halfway across the training center. I never had a good opinion of him until Geonosis. Nothing brings us clones together like almost dying. I suppose that may have been intentional.”

“Stone fought at my side on Geonosis.” Fox explained. “Our regiments were placed side by side in the battle. He helped me drag Thire out of there, actually.”

“He was hurt?” Riyo asked.

“It’s why he and Thorn ended up running security; they were the most injured of the Corrie Guard officers who survived.” Stone sighed. “It feels like it was longer than three years ago.”

Riyo nodded her agreement. “Feels like the war has been going on forever.”

“It’s going to end soon.” Fox said. “Something’s about to happen, I can feel it.”

“We can only hope it’s the end.” Stone clasped Fox’s shoulder for a moment before stepping away. “I should get back to work.”

Riyo rose from her chair and stepped towards Stone. She held out her arms, waiting for Stone to initiate the hug by stepping towards her before she wrapped her arms around him. “It was good to see you.”

“You too.” Stone murmured out of instinct. This was a new form of intimacy for him. It took the albeit short walk back to his office for him to realize what form of intimacy it was. Friendship. Stone had never had friends before, only lovers and brothers. The feeling would take some time to adjust to.

---

Stone tossed his helmet onto his bed when he returned to the barracks that evening. Fox would be spending the night with Riyo, it would just be him and Thire tonight. He could hear the water in the refresher running and decided to join Thire while there was still hot water left.

“Have you successfully melted the skin off your back yet?” Stone laughed when the wave of steam hit him as he opened the door. A hot shower after a long day was the only form of therapy they could get that didn’t come in the form of other beings or drinks. Stone didn’t think about Thire’s lack of answer until he turned around from shutting the door. “Thire?”

For a moment, the man on the floor before him was Thorn, laying in a pool of blood. Then it wasn’t. With the imagined blood gone, he ran to Thire’s side.

“Thire. Thire!” Stone pulled Thire’s head up into his arms as he looked over Thire’s body for injury. Finding none and getting no response he reached down to check for a pulse, letting out a sob of relief when he found it. “What happened to you, kid?” He murmured as he gently set Thire back on the floor so that he could turn off the tap and fetch a towel.

When Thire was wrapped up in his towel, Stone gathered him in his arms and carried him out of the refresher to lay him down on his bed. Thire didn’t stir when Stone set him down on the hard mattress, nor when Stone sat beside him and gently ran his fingers through his hair. It was only after a few minutes had passed that he stirred under Stone’s touch.

“Hey, kid.” Stone continued to run his fingers through Thire’s hair when he saw how his brother unconsciously leaned into it as he came to.

“What happened?” Thire managed.

“I found you on the ground in the ‘fresher. I thought you-.” Stone’s voice broke and he couldn’t finish the thought.

“Like Thorn.”

“Yes.”

Thire’s eyes turned away from Stone’s, up towards the ceiling. “I am so sorry. I never- I couldn’t put you and Fox through that again.”

“It’s okay, kid. I’m just glad to have you back with me.” Stone reached down with his free hand and clasped Thire’s hand in his, running his thumb in small circles on the back of Thire’s hand. “What happened to you?”

“I must’ve passed out.” Thire’s gaze turned back to Stone. “Maybe the water was too hot and my blood pressure dropped too quickly?”

“Guess you’ll have to stop taking hot showers then.”

Thire’s face broke into a tired smile. “Never.” They sat in silence for a minute before Thire spoke again. “Stone, could you grab my clothes?”

“Yeah.” Stone rose from Thire’s side to reach up for the clothes that dangled from the storage cubby above the bed. “Do you want help?”

“Stone, if I can’t get my greys on then I should probably retire.”

Stone laughed with him as he stepped back to put a fresh pair of his own blacks on. When he turned back around, Thire had managed to get the pants of his blacks on and throw the towel onto the ground. “Do you want a shirt?”

Thire shook his head. “Too constricting. Stone?”

“Thire?”

“Could you hold-.” Thire stopped, biting his lip. He didn’t want to appear weak. Even in just Stone’s presence, the pressure that the Kaminoans had placed on them to be perfect could be felt.

“Of course, Thire.” Stone crossed the room back to Thire’s bed, playfully pushing Thire over so that he could lay down beside him. “Come ‘ere.” He pulled Thire back over to him, wrapping an arm around his waist and tucking Thire’s head under his chin. “Fox thinks that the war is ending soon. When it does, we’ll have a new chancellor, maybe even one you won’t be allergic to. Everything is going to be alright, Thire.”

“I know, Stone. I know.”

---

When Stone woke the next morning, he found Thire’s head still laying on his arm as his younger brother dozed. Despite the numbness in his forearm, Stone stayed still, watching the rise and fall of Thire’s chest. Though Thire was only a month younger than him and he hadn’t been through the stressors that those made to be commanders had, he looked older than Fox did already with his brow furrowed even in sleep. The end of the war had to come soon. But sooner than the end of the war was the time they had to report in by.

“Thire.” Stone murmured.

His brother’s eyes opened on the first mention of his name and he sat up so that Stone could roll out of bed. When Stone came back from the refresher, Thire had already assembled his armor and was reading over a datapad. When he caught Stone’s gaze, Thire turned off the datapad and tossed it back into one of the drawers under his bed. “Do you mind if I borrow Jek and Rys today?”

“Go for it. They’re your batchmates.”

“They’re your men.”

Stone shrugged before bending over to pull his boots on. “I know how close you three are. Besides, I’m not going to have enough work to go around today.”

“Thanks, Stone, for everything.” When Stone couldn’t think of a response, Thire waited patiently for him to finish assembling his armor before falling into step at his side as they stepped back into the barracks.

#commander stone #commander fox #riyo chuchi #foxiyo #my fics #sticks and stones fic

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blue-haired-grace · 4 years

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For the fan-fic writer questions: what is your favorite fic that you’ve written? What are some headcannons you have for your favorite character to write? I also saw you mention OCs! If you feel like it, could you share a little about them? I love hearing about people’s OCs!! No pressure to answer all of these!

First of all, I apologize for not responding to this sooner. When I was writing my reply for the first time (it was quite long and almost finished), my computer became unplugged and since my computer is really old, the battery doesn’t work anymore. Whenever my computer isn’t plugged in, it won’t turn on or it’ll immediately shut off. I was REALLY upset when this happened and I lost my entire reply to your Ask; looking at my computer and my own stupidity for not using a Word document first was getting on my nerves so I needed a break.

Second of all, AAAAHHHH SOMEBODY ELSE SENT ME AN ASK!!!!!! THANK YOU SO MUCH!!!! YOU’RE AMAZING!!!!! <3 <3 <3 *coughs* Sorry, got a bit overexcited there. Thank you for sending in an Ask! I don’t get very many in, so I’ll respond to all of the questions as best as I can! <3

What is your favourite fic that you’ve written? : Oof, this early on and we’re already picking favourites? :D I’ll have to go with, “Right Now”, written for Day 3 of Commander Fox Week. I spent the most time working on this one, so it more perfected than the other two I’ve done so far. I like how I portrayed Fox as having to be cold and uncaring because of the position he’s in, but he still cares even if he doesn’t know how to show it all the time. I’ve received praise for my depiction of grief, so that was a major sigh of relief for me. I also got to write my first OC, who has garnered positive attention and has led to me writing a series of one-shots based off of him and his squad. It may be the one that has gotten the least amount of attention on the sites I’ve posted it, but I’m still very proud of it and the attention it has gotten.

What are some headcanons you have for your favourite character to write? : I’ll be doing Fox. He’s the character I’ve written the most. If you’d like headcanons of other characters, just send in another ask (shameless, I know)! 1. Fox doesn’t like Palpatine. There’s just always been something... off about him. Palpatine feels manipulative and slimy to Fox, even in the earlier times of the war and it only got worse as it went on. From what Fox has observed, he also felt that Palpatine’s relationship with Anakin was a bit disturbing. 2. This headcanon is inspired by @koyacyi-vode. Fox’s remaining batchmates are Cody and Wolffe. The three are very close and take care of each other as much as they can. They are also the only two of Fox’s brothers who can ALWAYS tell when he’s lying. Whenever Cody or Wolffe (or both, but it’s rare) are on Coruscant, they always will meet up with Fox. Whether to annoy him in his office to take a break, get a drink, or something else is dependent on Fox’s mood, to be honest. I still like to read other options of who his batchmates are, though! 3. Besides his batchmates, Fox is closest Thorn. As he is also a commander in the Coruscant Guard, him, Stone, and Thire best know why he acts cold and uncaring (besides Cody and Wolffe, obviously). Thorn managed to stay more relaxed than Fox and is better at taking care of himself, so he’s made it his personal mission to annoy Fox into taking care of himself when Cody or Wolffe aren’t available. He is the only person besides the previously two listed that can get away with annoying Fox a lot and Thorn has no qualms about comming Cody or Wolffe to yell at Fox for neglecting himself.

I also saw you mention OCs! If you feel like it, could you share a little about them? I love hearing about people’s OCs!! : You want to hear about my OCs? :’) Alright, so the two that don’t exist in Star Wars Canon are Duke and Morale. The three that exist (killed by Barriss Offee to frame Ahsoka), but had no names or personalities are Ghost, Sketch, and Throwpillow. Together, they make up Spark Squad. Sketch is the unofficial leader of the squad. He acts the oldest out of all of them and is almost constantly exasperatingly rolling his eyes at his batchmates. For the most part, Sketch is a pretty serious person, but he’ll let loose around his batchmates and he comforts them when they need it. He’s not the best with his words, but he’ll give hugs and sketch cute little pictures on anything he can find to cheer them up. Ghost is very quiet. He doesn’t like talking very much, isn’t comfortable with physical affection with anyone besides his batchmates, and is comparing himself to his batchmates a lot. For the most part, Ghost had always been drawn to people with confidence in themselves. He is much better with words than Sketch is, but is very shy about, and is typically the one that others go to when they want words with their comfort. Ghost also has a talent of making himself appear blend into crowds. Throwpillow likes being active the most out of all of his batchmates. He is really good at pushing himself and others to the limit. Throwpillow is also terrible at comforting someone; even with brothers like Sketch and Ghost, it’s just not his thing. He can listen and do his best to empathize, but he has no idea what to say and hugs with him are almost always awkward. He’s much better at keeping them active to keep whatever is troubling out of their mind. Originally, Throwpillow’s name was Pillow because after long nights of ranting, his batchmates found him soft enough to sleep on. After an incident with Commander Fox (which I’ll be writing a one-shot about in my Spark Squad series!), his name became Throwpillow. If Sketch took on the role of big brother, Duke took up the role of overprotective big brother. He loves his brothers and would do anything for them, at his own expense included. Like Throwpillow, he’s a good listener but doesn’t know what to say to comfort someone; he is very good at giving hugs though, even if it does make him a bit uncomfortable. His comfort comes second to his brothers. That ankle he broke to push Pillow out of harms’ way? Better his ankle than Pillow’s. Stealing materials to sketch on and with so Sketch wouldn’t get caught and he would? They need him here to lead the squad; Duke can afford to be caught. Late nights spent reassuring Ghost that he didn’t need to keep comparing himself to others and bringing himself down? At least Ghost will get some sleep after, even if he doesn’t. Back talking that Kaminoan the day he didn’t come back? Worth it if Morale wouldn’t cry about it later. Morale is the most optimistic out of the entire squad. If there’s a positive in the situation, he WILL find it and tell it to others with a wide grin on his face to keep up morale. He’s amazing at keeping others happy, but it’s extremely easy to make him sad. He’s good at hiding it, though. He wants to make everyone else feel as if they have a chance and he views his sadness as selfish. He is viewed by the other four as their youngest, and they all do what they can to keep him happy, while he makes others happy. He is the last man standing of Spark Squad.

I don’ know how to end this, so thanks again for the Ask! <3 I hope it wasn’t too long! xD

#grace replies

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clonecest-bin-account · 3 years

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Assorted Clonecest Fics - Comfort (Thorn/Fox) | E

Thorn is gentle in the way he carries Fox back to his quarters. One would assume that the silence coming from other is due to the fact that he must be drunk, but that’s only part of the truth: the thing is, going at 79’s not always turns out to be a good time. This time, at least, it wasn’t a nice experience.

Fox isn’t exactly the most popular vod, but at least he’s respected, because he’s damn good at his job, and nobody would dare trying to deny it. What happened with Commander Tano, however, has created a bit of a rift between the Guard - seen as responsible for her leaving - and the rest of the GAR; obviously, the one who took most of the fall however is Fox. It’s like people were just waiting for an excuse to dig on him, honestly.

So, they were having a conversation, he and Fox, drink in hand, when a drunk vod with a huge republic cog tattooed on his head approached them and begun to string a series of insults towards Fox, calling him a disgrace and such, accusing him of being a corrupt piece of shit and so on; he even tried to get his hands on his if only for another trooper with weirdly shaved hair that got a hold of him and dragged him away. They were both wearing 501st’s blue.

After that, seeing how unresponsive Fox was, Thorn decided to take him back immediately, knowing well what happens when he gets into that headspace, so here they are now.

He quickly taps the access code to his quarters, dragging Fox inside once the doors open, then he turns towards him, cupping his face between his hands.

“Hey.”

Fox nods at him, something he usually does when he doesn’t trust his voice not to crack if he speaks up.

“It wasn’t your fault, alright?” Thorn begins. They’ve practiced this routine countless times by now, but he still keeps on going because he’d never leave Fox into the pit of self-hate.

No reply comes to the other this time, not even a nod.

“It wasn’t your fault,” Thorn repeats, gently pressing their foreheads together.

“Thorn?”

“Yes?”

Fox doesn’t say anything, or at least he doesn’t use his voice for it. Instead, he surges forward, slamming their lips together into a heated kiss.

This too isn’t unusual from Fox. Thorn doesn’t really understand it and Fox refuses to explain it, but he supposes that it has something to do with an intense urge to feel something that isn’t just an empty void.

Still, while Fox is like a hurricane right now, it’s Thorn’s tenderness that makes him calm down and slow his movements.

“I’ve got you Fox,” Thorn whispers between a kiss and another. “I’ve got you.”

They end up on Thorn’s bed, armors and blacks already discarded on the floor.

Thorn loves how clingy Fox gets during these moments, holding onto him like he’d disappear if he pulls away even just a little. Being this close always feels so special.

“Still good?” he asks. Fox nods.

“Yeah… Yeah, keep going.”

Thorn won’t let him repeat that twice, and he keeps moving his hips, sliding his and Fox’s erections together. He leans forward, forehead pressed against the other’s, closing his eyes for the intense sensations he’s feeling right now.

“You feel so good, Fox,” he groans, making the other moan. He opens his eyes then, starstruck by how pretty Fox looks right now. “You’re so good.”

“I’m not--” Fox tires, but Thorn interrupts him immediately. There’s going to be no place for that now.

“You are,” he says, tone assertive yet still gentle. “You’re so good Fox. I’m so glad I’ve got to meet you.”

Those words provoke a huffed laugh from Fox.

“You’re the only one who thinks so.”

“That’s not true,” Thorn retorts. “And even if it was it wouldn’t matter. You’re a good person Fox, no matter what people say.”

“I--” Fox begins, but he’s interrupted by a moan. “Oh Thorn! Like that!”

What else is Thorn supposed to do if not kissing him senseless? He keeps the same angle of his thrusts, but he adds his hand to the mix, fisting both their cocks together. The way Fox’s body contorts under him is beautiful to see; Thorn would come just by watching this.

“Thorn!”

They come right at the same time, spilling their seed right on Fox’s stomach, white contrasting with his dark skin.

As they linger through the aftershock, they keep kissing each other with soft pecks on their lips. Even in the way he moves Fox appears way more relaxed than before.

“Thorn, I… Thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” Thorn replies, smiling. “It was my pleasure.”

He’s relieved by the way Fox chuckles at those words: he means that he must not feel that bad anymore. Besides, he looks utterly adorable like this and Thorn will always be grateful for the fact that he allows him to see him like this.

“I’m sure it was,” Fox states then, and this time it’s Thorn’s turn to chuckle, leaning down to nuzzle against Fox’s neck.

“I love you.”

He hears Fox sigh, which makes him wonder what’s going on inside his head? Is it still self-deprecation, memories of happier times, or is he focused in the moment for once?

Well, it doesn’t matter, not when Fox closes his arms around him, not when he smiles so warmly.

“I love you too.”

#assorted clonecest fics #cloneshipping #foxthorn #commander fox #commander thorn #my fics #spicy tag

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alette-stars · 4 years

Text

The giant goes to rest. More than two years, 130 000 words and many screams and tears since its start, Lavender Jade is complete.

Let me start off by thanking you all for supporting this fic! When I started I had no idea it was going to receive the love it has. Before Lavender Jade I was known for more overall lighthearted works (Mint and Poppy in the Monsta X fandom, Stray Romance for ASTRO). All your constant love and support has been a huge help. Thank you so much! Words cannot describe the joy your comments and messages gave me ♡

I’ve made so many amazing friends and spoken to so many beautiful people because of this work, but this fic is dedicated to Monsta X ♡

Okay, enough sappiness! Time to move on to the trivia and extras. This is my 4th trivia post (you can find Mint and Poppy here; Stray Romance here; Wrong (Right) Number here) and longest yet, so it’s in 3 parts:

basic tidbits/extra info

regarding the vei, the card divination system

some personal rambling regarding my character motives (entirely skippable)

If it’s not obvious, there are going to be major spoilers, so if you haven’t read the fic yet but plan to do so, I advise not reading this ^^

If you need, you can always reference the character list here

Okay, so let’s get started! Rest of the post is under the cut

1. Basic Trivia

Most of the extras in the fic were original characters this time, with a few exceptions. Even these exceptions are not exactly based on the idols they’re named after, but I imagined them while writing. These are:

Sojung, Jooheon’s bodyguard - WJSN’s Exy

Sewoon, Kihyun’s manservant - soloist Jeong Sewoon

Seungwoo, another of Kihyun’s servants - soloist Yoo Seungwoo

Dawon, Hyunjung, Jiyeon, Luda, Soobin, Juyeon, the girls mentioned as being part of Jooheon’s people in Eigak - WJSN’s Dawon, Seola, Bona, Luda, Soobin, Eunseo

Along with the ones living, there were those who lived in the past. Mentioned in-text:

Hoseok II, a previous king of Yishin - BTS’ J-Hope

Seokjin, a consort to Hoseok II - BTS’ Jin

Kim Namjoon, prime minister of Hoseok II - BTS’ RM

Hakyeon, the first king of Yishin - VIXX’s N

And those referenced only in the snippets in the chapter summaries:

Jungsoo, a previous king of Yishin - Super Junior’s Leeteuk

Kyuhyun, a historian - Super Junior’s Kyuhyun

Yoongi, a consort to Hoseok II - BTS’ Suga

Taekwoon, high prince to Hakyeon - VIXX’s Leo

For some reason which I still cannot fathom, I’ve been praised for the worldbuilding in this fic. The capital city of Yishin doesn’t even have a name.

The basic geography of the peninsula is Yishin, Eigak to her east, a number of tiny states to her west, the sea to her south. The western side of Yishin is more fertile. The stretch of border between Yishin and Eigak is a rocky wasteland.

Yishin was named as a mix of Wonho’s two surnames: Lee and Shin

The concept of snippets from literature and media from the universe as chapter summaries was inspired by Steven Erikson’s Malazan Book of the Fallen saga. The vei deck (more on it later) was also very heavily inspired by his Deck of Dragons in the same books.

A lot of fics focus on Hyungwon’s looks (something I’m guilty of as well) so I wanted to write a world where he wasn’t considered handsome. I understand why all the shows set in alternate worlds have the same beauty standards as us—it makes for prettier TV—but I decided to set a different one for the world of Lavender Jade. Somewhat arbitrarily, we have:

considered very handsome - Hoseok, Minhyuk, Changkyun

considered somewhat handsome - Kihyun

considered plain/regular - Hyunwoo, Hyungwon, Jooheon

Han Jehan, obviously, also falls in category 1.

Han Jehan was my first time writing a proper villain in my fics, and I don’t know how well I succeeded but I enjoyed it immensely. I went out of my way to add all the traits I like so that I wouldn’t end up hating him, even going so far as to give him the surname of one of my favourite idols (sorry Hyuk).

There are two main things I’d change in the fic if I could turn back time:

tighten up the front end. I’d combine the first couple of chapters

Yeon Hu would be a woman. By the time I realized the awesome power of a badass lady general, it was too late

All court members—Jo Senmi, Yeon Hu, etc—are original characters. They’re both basic archetypes you’ll find in sageuk dramas. I think it’s worth mentioning both of them really do love Yishin, they just had very different, more conservative ideas of what would be best for the country.

I’d thought of using all the proper Korean names for the clothes especially, but decided that would make things difficult to read and binned the idea.

The opening note says the world is inspired by the Joseon dynasty. Regarding the initiatives to improve people’s lives, yes, but the hall/court system is more inspired by (what I know of) the Goryeo dynasty system.

I’ve been asked this before, but I’ll answer it here again: I’d never finished a sageuk drama before Flower Crew (very recently, and only because I was watching it with my sisters), and definitely not while I was planning this fic. Don’t judge me. The one I would recommend is Six Flying Dragons, most like Lavender Jade in tone. The others I’ve made headway into are Moonlight Drawn by the Clouds, Ruler: Master of the Mask, and The King and the Clown.

I’m surprised no one brought up the foreshadowing I did near the end of chapter 16. Seven stars, two possible fates. The final fate of the two lovers (Kihyun and Changkyun) turned out to be a mix of the two stories: there was a fire, and the heavenly king was pulled from heaven (Kihyun from his position) to live the rest of his life with his lover.

Unlike my other secret couple (myungjin in Stray Romance) there are no hints of Hyunwoo and Minhyuk. They never did anything that would show. Minhyuk attempts to fluster Hyunwoo, but he does that with everyone.

Changkyun’s final card from the reading in chapter 8 is the two of Knives. It means a sacrifice.

My favorite parts of the fic to write were Kihyun’s various descriptions of Changkyun’s beauty :)

This is, undoubtedly, the fic that has required the most work from me. I will say the most difficult scenes to write were Minhyuk’s fight with the assassin and Hyunwoo’s with Kim Sungil. Action scenes are not my forte.

If you don’t know, I have written a romantic one-shot set in the same universe, titled Only One

2. The Vei

I don’t know how obvious this was, but the entire vei deck concept was inspired by and based on VIXX. The idea itself came from the Deck of Dragons in Steven Erikson’s Malazan Book of the Fallen saga.

There are 84 cards in the deck: 72 cards in six suits, and 12 Unaligned. The Unaligned can be paired off, where each card is the opposite of its pair (with the exception of the last pair). The Unaligned cards are:

Fountain and Grave - a beginning and an ending

The Open Hand and The Closed Hand - generosity and miserliness

The Lord and The Lady - bad luck and good luck

The Centaur and The Fox - someone proud and someone crafty

Magnolia and Crown of Thorns - misery in success and happiness in failure

Pyramid and Mirror - stability/instability and karmic justice/unfairness

The six suits, along with the member they represent, are:

Stars - N

Rings - Leo

Shells - Ken

Scrolls - Ravi

Flowers - Hongbin

Knives - Hyuk

Each suit, like our playing cards, has a king, queen, and knight (jack). The king of each suit is based on a VIXX member, and has some particular qualities along with being very rare. All visual cues for the kings come from VIXX’s masterpiece MV, Shangri-La.

Stars - King: the Emperor, Queen: Sloth, Knight: the Page. The Emperor is the rarest card in the deck, and is represented by a crowned man with no features, only darkness in place of a face. The Page is the icon of diligence (and was in Minhyuk’s hand in chapter X). The theme of the suit is mystic fates, technically the uncategorized cards. In the natural half of the deck.

Rings - King: Death, Queen: Envy, Knight: the Messenger. Death is a card of finality (like Grave). The theme of the suit is secrets. In the manmade half of the deck.

Shells - King: Life, Queen: Gluttony, Knight: the Fool. Life is a card of possibilities. The Fool denotes absolute luck--essentially the card of negation. The theme of the suit is environment. In the natural half of the deck.

Scrolls - King: the Mage, Queen: Greed, Knight: the Apprentice. The Mage is a figure of knowledge and learning. The theme of the suit is motivations. In the manmade half of the deck.

Flowers - King: the Elf, Queen: Lust, Knight: the Handmaid. The Elf is an elusive, hidden figure with hidden motives. The theme of the suit is happiness. In the natural half of the deck.

Knives - King: War, Queen: Wrath, Knight: the General. War is a decisive figure, one who brings final consequences. The them of the suit is decisions. In the manmade half of the deck.

I’ve been asked about the game played with the vei deck as well. It is a game of my own invention, yes. It’s based on trick-taking games like Hearts, where the object is to win the least cards as possible. It’s played in alternating rounds, one where the Unaligned are not used, the next where they are. I didn’t hash out the details beyond some basic motifs, but it is technically playable. Only if you have a vei deck though. The whole gameplay hinges on the fact that some cards are less likely to appear when picked from the stacked deck.

I’ve heard from more than one person that I got them into tarot as a hobby. That’s great! But the truth is I know next to nothing about tarot haha

3. Rambling

I might suggest skipping this. This adds 0 value to the post and fic aside from giving me a space to ramble and whoa it turned out long

First: King Hoseok. He’s copped a fair share of criticism in this fic regarding his passiveness and his acceptance of the unfair consort system. I will defend my handling of this character to the ends of the Earth. I’m not saying he’s perfect (obviously! the only character that comes close to that is Hyunwoo) but I think he did right by what he had.

A neat indication would be to flip back to chapter 14, the Hyungwon POV chapter. When Hoseok says that the two of them are alone even though the room is filled with servants, Hyungwon forgives it as a result of his upbringing. He’s undoubtedly biased, but he has a point. Hoseok was raised as king. Certain things that are so obvious to others don’t even register to him. The consort system, where they have to swear loyalty to him but he doesn’t to them? He was raised as seeing this as normal. They all were. He never even fathoms a consort would want to leave their position. When Kihyun tells him the truth about the affair, Hoseok is stunned. He doesn’t understand Hyungwon calling his old life of poverty a life of freedom.

Basically, Hoseok is just trying his best after being raised (and still living) in a life of absolute privilege. He expects loyalty, love, because he hasn’t been exposed to anything different. His situation is completely different from Jooheon’s, who’s grown up in a much more volatile situation. Jooheon had to learn early on to really open his eyes, to listen, and he’s much more observant and understanding. By the end of the fic Hoseok’s had a wakeup call, and he’s going to get better.

Second: the consort system. Yes, it’s cruel. It wasn’t what Hakyeon had envisioned when he had his companions instated formally. But in Yishin this is the norm. No one thinks it cruel. It’s a position of huge honor (Kihyun thinks of it a few times).

Even though there’s no homophobia, misogyny etc, Yishin is a conservative society. They haven’t had a change of regime in 23 generations. They’re used to the norm, and consortship is the norm. Also, if you look at most conservative societies, you’ll see romantic love isn’t considered a prerequisite for marriage (which is kind of what consortship is). In many societies (including my own) many people would jump at a chance for consortship, no matter their relationship with the monarch.

Third: the fic had a lot of subversion of typical historical expectations and standards. I still consider myself primarily a fantasy writer. Typical fantasy and historical works have a strong focus on honor, dignity, truth and justice and all those values.

Lavender Jade does not. Kihyun and Changkyun are oathbreakers, they are traitors (by Yishini law). Every insult flung at them is true. The king breaks his country’s laws to help them escape their deserved punishment. Even Hyunwoo, the honorable and admirable commandant, defeats Kim Sungil using an underhanded move, and gets his happy ending with another consort breaking his oath.

At times I seriously considered ending this as a tragedy. It felt fair. Kihyun and Changkyun had broken laws, broken promises. All that happened did as a result of their own actions (even Han Jehan’s targeting of Kihyun was, from what we see, brought about by Kihyun digging into his affairs). A sad ending would be deserved. But then I thought, hmm, why? Why should it be fair? Why should they be miserable because it is deserved?

So we got the ending we got, and I hope you’re all happy. I know I am.

Thank you for reading to the end of this (unnecessarily) long post! It’s almost as long as the fic itself haha If you have any questions or messages you can shoot me an ask or pm here, or on my Twitter or on CuriousCat ^^

So what’s next? I’m writing Wrong (Right) ID, an epistolary fic for ASTRO in the same style as Wrong (Right) Number, and A Match Made in Heaven, my VIXX karma officer fic (it’s an unusual concept! you should try it). Both fics will end soon, maybe even before the end of the year, so you won’t have to bear much waiting ^^;;

I’m also writing Blood, Water, a vampire fic with a strong emphasis on family for ATEEZ, so you can check that out too! This one’s going to be long and angsty and quite self indulgent ^^

I’ve been asked if I’m going to continue writing in this universe. The answer is, yes. I will be writing White Carnation, the book referenced in multiple chapters of this fic, as a novella. I might write a short story on how Hoseok and Hyungwon met, but that’s undecided. I’ve hashed out ideas for side stories involving VIXX (and the founding of Yishin) and ATEEZ (and the change of regimes in Eigak) in this CuriousCat ask and this Twitter thread, but those will probably only remain as threads ^^;;

And in the future? I have Monsta X one shots planned, and perhaps another long fic too. All possibilities are open! I hope you’ll stay with me for them ♡

Again, and as always, thank you. I hope you enjoyed Lavender Jade ♡

#fic #my writing #lavender jade

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