It's For Science

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Hello there and Welcome!

My name is Nad. I am so excited to finally start sharing my writing with all of you lovely people. I am still fairly new to creative writing and have taken quite the love to it.

I currently have more of a focus on Star Wars. More specifically the Prequel Era... cough cough... The Clone Wars, and The Bad Batch.

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With love,

Nad 💖

excellent use of free will if I say so myself

Ahhhhh my heart!!! This is beautifully written ❤️

Lighting The Way To Your Heart (LDE24)

For @rinwritesfics as part of the @cloneficgiftexchange 🎄🎁

This is the first fic gift exchange I'm participating in, so I'm a tad nervous (for real, I am very nervous). I couldn't help adding some mistletoe to this Life Day story; hopefully it didn't become too much of a cliche, but I hope the loads of fluff make up for it. I'll stop rambling please go read now and enjoy! <3

Summary: After Omega provides a little nudge into the right direction, you and Echo find yourselves in an illuminating situation Rating: Teen and up (SFW) Tags: fluff, love confessions, friends to lovers, romance, kissing, Christmas/Life Day Words: 5.058 Pairing: TBB Echo x fem!reader Prompts: “I thought you were just being nice” / Friends to lovers, one’s oblivious (reader) and the other’s a denier (Echo) Read this one-shot here on AO3

“Alright, easy now,” Echo said patiently as Omega steered the Marauder to the surface. Concentration was written all over her face as she stared through the transparisteel viewport in front of them, her hands firmly on the ship’s controls. With a slight thud - less smooth than Tech would have liked, but Echo definitely noticed her progress -, she landed the ship on the ground. She sat completely still, holding her breath, as if the next challenge was awaiting.

Instead, Echo turned towards her with an affectionate smile on his face and a sparkle in his eyes, giving away how proud he was. “You’re getting better with each try,” he said with a warm voice, resulting in a deep exhale from Omega as she leaned back into the pilot’s chair and finally started relaxing. Echo couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight.

“You’re doing great, Omega,” he tried reassuring her, before pressing some buttons to shut off the engines and the controls. “I just hope Tech thinks the same. He said he’d teach me some of his moves if I mastered landing before Life Day,” Omega sighed, a worrisome expression on her face. Gently, Echo put his hand on her shoulder, turning her attention towards him. “You shouldn’t worry about it. In the pace you’re making progress, you’ll best Tech at his own moves in no time,” he comforted her, and he noticed how the enthusiasm returned to her bright eyes.

Omega jumped from her seat, jolting towards the boarding ramp to exit the ship, but Echo didn’t make any preparations to leave just yet. His mind wandered back to Omega’s words, lingering on a certain holiday she mentioned. “Speaking of Life Day..,” he started slowly, resulting in Omega skidding to a halt, “Do you think, er- She will like it if.. If we decorate the place?”

The girl’s shoe soles made a squeaking sound when she turned on her heels on the durasteel floor, skipping back to him. She appeared at his side with such energy that it startled him. “Are you kidding? She’ll love it!” she shot at Echo, a newfound enthusiasm radiating from her face. Echo huffed in a mixture of surprise and amusement, looking at the beaming face beside him. “Are you sure about that?”

Forgetting all about her eagerness to tell the others about her flight lesson, Omega climbed back into the pilot’s seat and turned it around to face Echo. She had never been more ready for this conversation. “She told me how much she likes Life Day. No wait, she doesn’t like it; she loves it. I think she would be disappointed if we didn’t decorate,” she shared with Echo with such speed, he wondered if she even took a breath in between sentences.

The flustered look on his face made Omega giggle as she rolled back in her seat. She had never seen Echo react like this before, and it made her suspicious. She needed to get to the bottom of this. “Why did you ask?” she informed casually, watching Echo closely so she wouldn’t miss the slightest change in his expression or demeanour.

He shifted in his seat, frowning his eyebrows; it took him just a moment too long to come up with a straight answer. “I thought, er- I wanted to know if we should decorate or not,” came his slightly uncertain answer. Omega leaned towards him, a smug smile briefly adorning her face before she continued. “Then why did you specifically ask if she would like it?”

The furrowing of his brows deepened, his eyes briefly twitching. “I-I just, er.. It’s because I.. Because I appreciate her,” he stammered, and to Omega, he couldn’t have been more obvious about the matter. She narrowed her eyes as she looked at Echo, her lips slowly sliding into an amused smirk. “Do you like her?” came her more direct question.

For a very brief moment, and she almost missed it, his eyes filled with panic, before he shot her a confused look; why would she ask such a thing? “Of course I like her. I like all of you. It takes something to stick around with the lot of you,” he grumbled softly, but he granted her a genuine smile anyway. But it wasn’t enough to satisfy Omega.

“Do you like-like her?” she continued, heeding little serious attention to his previous explanation. It made him scoff, accompanied by a wild gesture with his scomp. “What is that supposed to mean?” Omega rolled her eyes; could she be more obvious with her questioning? “Well, do you have feelings for her?” She leaned a bit further towards him, her body tense from anticipation. 

The brief moment of silence that followed was almost deafening. Echo stammered before he finally found the questionable words: “Feelings like..?” It made Omega grunt in frustration, throwing her head back before gesturing towards him. “Really, Echo? You’re never lost for words around her? She doesn’t make your head spin? Like your legs feel weak?” He looked at her with a straight face, not a glimpse of mockery on it, as he replied. “My legs are very strong, actually.”

Omega pressed her lips in a thin line to share how unamused she was. “I thought you might have had some more experience, but you’re as bad as the rest of them,” she spoke accusingly, and now it was Echo’s time to shoot her an unamused look in return. She ignored it in order to continue her interrogation. “So answer this: does she give you a warm feeling when she’s near, or when you think about her? What does she make you feel?”

Without uttering a word, Echo leaned his head back against the headrest, closed his eyes and pictured you. You had so much love and care to give, always ready to jump forward when anyone was in need of help. Ready to aid any physical needs, like wounds or damaged armour, but you were also there whenever someone needed some words of encouragement or affirmation. Your lively eyes, the little lights that danced in them whenever you looked at him. And your smile.. The mere thought of your affectionate smile made his stomach churn, but in a surprisingly comfortable way.

Slowly, Echo opened his eyelids, blinking them a few times to return to reality. “She gives me a strange sensation in my stomach,” he confessed softly, and he immediately felt how a warm feeling reached his cheeks. Omega shot forward in her chair instantly. “Butterflies!” she cried out, almost falling from the seat in her enthusiasm, “Those are butterflies!”

Echo could only huff in disagreement. “I’m pretty sure they’re not, Omega,” he said under his breath, but she heard him alright. “It’s a figure of speech, Echo. It means you’re in love!” she shot at him, grinning from ear to ear, whilst folding her arms to conclude the matter. But Echo was not ready to draw conclusions yet. “I am not,” he grunted softly, turning his head away from her in a failed attempt to hide the blush on his cheeks from her.

“You most definitely are,” she continued the bantering with a raised eyebrow, resulting in a deep sigh coming from Echo before he turned towards her again. “Omega, don’t be silly,” he said to her, but she wouldn’t have the derogatory words he was using. She pointed an accusing finger at him as she spoke her mind. “No, you’re being silly here. Don’t deny what’s right in front of you!” Her directness and seriousness startled him. “And what do you think I should do about it?” he sighed at last, finally giving in to her suspicions.

The smug expression returned to her face. “You’ve come to the right person. I have the perfect plan, and as a matter of fact, it involves Life Day decorating. So listen up..”

---

It had taken most part of the day to complete the on-planet supply run. Which was strange, because the members of Clone Force 99 were usually way more efficient. Wrecker would get distracted from time to time, but never before would he dawdle like he did today. He had stopped at nearly every stall or booth, pointing out to you what he liked, asking you what your favourite items were, even involving Hunter in the conversations. Tech would occasionally pause to interact with his datapad, which wasn’t a rare occurrence at all, but usually he was able to focus on it whilst walking. Even Hunter acted dubiously; where he’d normally make you all hurry and keep the group together, he seemed to have all the time in the galaxy today.

It was rather suspicious, but you didn’t let your mind linger on it. The lot of you had acquired everything you needed, which was most important, and were now heading back towards the Marauder, where Echo and Omega were waiting for you. You caught yourself feeling excited at the thought of returning to the ship. Maybe it had to do with earlier today, when you had been surprisingly disappointed when Echo had volunteered to stay behind with the ship; you always enjoyed your talks together in between missions, and supply runs seemed like the perfect opportunity for those. You tried staying behind with him, but Wrecker had been so stoked to explore the nearby town with you; you didn’t have the heart to let him down.

But now that you were nearing the ship, a strange feeling of anticipation filled your body, and you couldn’t hide the smile on your face when you finally laid eyes on the Marauder again. Hunter reported the group’s arrival over the internal comm channel, and it didn’t take long before Omega came jolting from the boarding ramp - wearing the biggest smile on her face. You laughed when she reached you, her enthusiasm being contagious in the best possible way.

“Omega, what is it?” you laughed affectionately at her, as she twirled around you. When she finally halted, she reached for your hand and took it in hers, slightly tugging it to make you follow her. “We have something to show you!” she shot out in excitement, whilst pulling you along in all her haste. You complied willingly, following her behind as you were overtaken by curiosity and wonder. “We?” you chuckled, trying to slow her down to a speed that was more common for a casual walk, but she wouldn’t let you. In her eyes, this was nothing like a casual walk.

“Yes, me and Echo!” she elaborated in all her enthusiasm, just when the both of you reached the Marauder’s boarding ramp. With anticipation radiating from her face and her big eyes filled with expectancy, she looked up at you when she finally let go of your hand. Curious and a little bit nervous, not knowing what to expect after all the excitement, you walked the ramp. You had assumed Omega was right behind you, but you hadn’t noticed how she had stopped following you. Grinning, she watched you reach the ship's entrance. And when you glanced inside the Marauder, you instantly forgot about everything else in the whole wide galaxy.

The interior of the ship was filled to the brim with lights. A wide variety of different kinds; big and small, from spare indicator lights to a dimmed multispectrum searchlight. Glowrods were giving off soothing gleams and from activated glitter-lits came iridescent glowing. There was white and slightly yellow lighting, but as your gaze slid over the premises, you started noticing an ocean of different colours. You didn't even know all those spare parts had been stuffed away onboard the Marauder.

Without realising, you had walked up to the centre of the ship, where you were surrounded by all the captivating lights. You extended your arm to touch one of the little lights, but when you did, you noticed how the lights formed a mosaic of colours on your skin and sleeve. In awe, you slowly waved your arm around, turning your hand and letting your fingers dance to see how the mosaic kept changing with every movement. You felt a surge of warmth wash through your body; the lights and colours made you feel cosy and secure. It made you feel at home. With a content hum, you spun around as your eyes wandered the illuminated scene again and again, until they landed on Echo.

Echo.

You had been so immersed in the magical spectacle, you had forgotten about anything else. Only now you noticed Omega hadn’t accompanied you aboard the Marauder, and only in this moment did you realise Echo had been inside all along. He must have seen your amazement, the wonder on your face as you beheld the scene unfold around you, your gentle movements when you danced with the lights.

And he had, and he was mesmerised by you. If his earlier conversation with Omega hadn’t convinced him, this moment had. Here you stood in front of him, more breathtaking than ever, showing your true self in a moment of pure beauty and innocence. He was grateful you hadn’t noticed him immediately, for otherwise you might not have blessed him with this sight. He quickly closed his mouth after his jaw had dropped, swallowing as he awaited your next move.

With eyes wide open, you blinked a few times as you watched him standing inside the cockpit, briefly averting his gaze from yours whilst awkwardly shifting on his feet. When you regained yourself, you wrapped your hand around the other and pressed them both against your chest to show your profound gratitude. “Echo, did you two.. Did you do this for me?” you asked him softly in disbelief, and despite it being a question, your voice was already full with excitement and appreciation.

Very slowly, you started to shuffle towards him, closing the gap between the two of you with every step you took. Echo mustered the courage to look you in the eyes again, and when he did, he noticed how all the little lights reflected in them, making your eyes dance - just the way you had done yourself, only moments ago. The sight made him feel like the air was being knocked from his lungs, resulting in a surge of incoherent words flowing from his lips. “Yes, we, er- We know h-how much you like Life Day, so I- we thought, you know..,” he managed to stammer all flustered, his eyes darting around nervously.

You nearly melted on the spot; you couldn't believe they had gone through all this trouble just for you. And now you understood the inefficiency of today's supply run; the others had been stalling, granting Echo and Omega all the time they needed to decorate the ship’s interior. “Echo, I.. I'm lost for words, actually,” you murmured with an amused huff from disbelief, allowing your eyes to slowly wander the ship’s interior again. You were still slowly walking towards Echo, unaware how his heartbeat rose with every step that made you get closer to him.

And when you finally reached him, you nearly bumped into him as you were still looking around in awe. You apologised, smiling up at him, and suddenly noticed how oddly he was behaving; he almost seemed nervous to be around you. You had never seen him like this before; he was usually so confident and fearless. This sensitive side of him was completely new to you.

As your gaze continued sliding upwards, you noticed a very specific plant dangling from the ship’s durasteel ceiling just above him. You couldn’t believe your eyes; were they playing a trick on you? “Wait, is that.. Is that a mistletoe?” you asked with a gasp of anticipation, the lights in your eyes starting to dance again as you locked eyes with Echo. He coughed softly, before starting to explain: “I-I think so. Omega said it wa-”

You didn’t give him the chance to finish his sentence. You lunged towards him, closing the last gap between the two of you, and placed your lips on his. You felt his breath shudder against your lips as you closed your eyes, indulging yourself in the moment. And Echo let you; those were the rules of the mistletoe, after all. It was supposed to be a quick, fun moment.

But a strange feeling erupted deep down in your belly, growing stronger as long as your lips were connected. It warmed your body, creating a smouldering sensation that was a mixture of nervousness and longing. A haze in your head made it hard to think clearly; was this taking longer than the usual mistletoe kiss? Were you supposed to withdraw by now?

Echo wasn’t retreating either. So instead, you took it up a notch. Slowly, and almost without thinking, your hands slipped over his shoulders behind his neck, pulling him closer towards you. His reaction made your heart rate rise; gently and with the utmost care, he wrapped his arms around your waist, softly pressing your body against his. The smouldering sensation evolved into something more fiery, like the way a spark ignited a fire. And so did the soft, sweet mistletoe kiss.

Burning with desire, you parted your lips, inviting him to do the same, to explore each other as you kept kissing eagerly, your soft lips brushing against his rougher ones. Tender, slow kisses growing into something more needy, something you didn’t know you had been longing for. His grasp around you tightened, but in the most delicate way; like he was holding the most precious thing in the galaxy. Careful, to hold it dear, to not let it fall apart.

Your breath caught in the back of your throat as soon as you realised what you were doing; mistletoes were supposed to be a fun, quick thing without any serious meaning, right? Nothing more. Then why did it make you feel this way? Why did it evoke so many pleasant emotions? And why didn’t you want this to stop? Wait, what was happening?

In a moment of panic, you abruptly pulled away from his grasp, taking a few hesitant, wavering steps back. You noticed the expression of shock on Echo's face, and it almost felt like disappointment; but you didn't take the time to think about it due to your own confused feelings. “I-I’m so sorry, I, er- I slightly overdid that,” you stammered, excusing yourself for your intrusive behaviour, looking around disorientated. Why was it suddenly so hot inside the ship? And why were your legs shaking?

With a newfound courage, Echo grabbed your shoulders in order to get you back into reality. His face was suddenly close again, but his soft features were calming you. You felt safe with him. “Breathe,” he said with his warm, reassuring voice, grounding you on the spot. You felt how your shoulders relaxed in an instant, how your legs regained themselves and how your breathing returned to a normal pace.

“Echo, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to-” you started explaining, but he cut you off whilst squeezing your shoulders and looking deep into your eyes. “Well, I did,” he interrupted you, and the sudden determination in his voice startled you. Your chest started heaving from rising anticipation. “What.. what do you mean?” you managed softly, whilst unknowingly getting closer to him again. As if he attracted you like a magnet. “Listen, I.. It’s when.. You make me..,” Echo stammered, searching for the right words. The right words to make you understand what you meant to him.

But he was a soldier; an ARC trooper, for karking out loud. He had been a skilled trooper of the GAR, completing missions with an unfound cunning and sketching battleplans to aid in the Republic’s success. He was never trained to express his feelings. But Omega’s earlier words echoed through his muddled mind, clearing a path for him. She had encouraged him to speak his mind, to describe what you made him feel. How he felt for you. Honesty was the pillar of any relationship, after all - being platonic or romantic. You’d both figure out where to go from here, as long as he was being honest with you.

“Echo, what’s wrong?” you whispered to him, your voice full with concern because he didn’t finish his sentence. It wasn’t like him to get flustered. He even looked like he was absent; a sense of deep thoughts clouding his eyes. His gaze shot back to you as soon as you addressed him, and for a moment, you thought you noticed a glimmer in his eyes. “I’m- Just- Please.. Please hear me out,” he stammered softly. He took a deep, shaky breath, closing his eyes for a moment before he looked straight at you again. The corners of your mouth curled in the slightest of smiles when you noticed the brightness in his eyes had returned.

He wet his lips before starting to explain himself, his eyes getting brighter with every confession he made. “You.. You give me a warm feeling. A feeling of.. Of belonging. A place where I feel at home. Like I matter in this galaxy; like I make a difference. You make me feel unique, like I’m one of a kind. You’re making me feel sharp during missions, when it matters, and when it doesn’t.. You make me feel appreciated anyway.”

His gaze slid away from yours for a very brief moment, still searching for words as he clearly wasn’t finished yet. And at last, he chuckled softly and found your eyes again. “I don't even mind the rain when you're around,” he whispered, and his lips slid into the most affectionate smile.

For a moment, all you could do was stare back into his bright, golden eyes, as they were shining with his love and affection for you. They were like gateways to his soul; opening up to you, pouring down his feelings upon you like water flowing from a waterfall. And in that very moment, you felt like you were floating, as he shared his most vulnerable and sensitive feelings with you.

Only when he gently touched your hand as it hung slightly shaking beside your body, you returned to reality. You let out the deep breath you were holding in, looking at him with watery eyes. “Echo, I.. I thought you were just being nice!” you managed at last, a shaky chuckle coming from your lips as you tried relaxing after all the build-up of emotions. He looked at you in all seriousness, but with eyes ever so kind. “I’d like to think I was being nice there,” he smiled at you, and with a genuine laugh, you landed a hand on top of his chest. “That’s way more than being nice, Echo,” you replied, your lips sliding into an amused smirk.

He took it as an invitation to gently place his hand on top of yours, as you still held it on his chest. He closed it off with his scomp, gently pressing your hand against his chest, as if he was trying to get you closer to his heart. You felt his heartbeat quickening before you realised yours was doing the same. His touch sent a sensational shudder through your own body, and searching for the right words to respond to his confession, you started to open your mouth. But his deep sigh made you swallow those words. “Kriff, I think my legs are feeling weak,” Echo said under his breath, his earlier conversation with Omega unknown to you.

“Do you.. Do you need to sit down?” you asked him softly, a sudden wave of concern washing over you. But he instantly eased you with a smile and a little tilt of his head. “Only if you’ll sit with me,” he said to you, his voice warm and welcoming, and you responded by tenderly placing your free hand on his cheek. “Of course. Anything for you,” you whispered at the same time, and you felt him exhale against the palm of your hand as he leaned into your touch.

He gently waved his arm around, gesturing towards the chairs in the cockpit to offer you a seat. You walked forwards, your hand sliding from his cheek to his shoulder, squeezing it for a moment as you passed him. He followed you right behind and only sat himself down after you had taken your seat. “This wasn't supposed to be about me,” he murmured to himself whilst briefly shaking his head. You managed to put a smile back on his face with your next words: “What if.. What if we make this about us?”

Very gently, you put your hand on his knee and leaned forward, looking at him with a serious look on your face. “Echo, did you mean all those words?” He sat upright instantly, straightening his spine in a way to show both his sincerity and integrity. “Of course I did. I would never lie to you,” he said with the determination you were used from him. Your lips slid into an affectionate smile and it softened his features instantly. “I, er- I’ve been a di’kut. I think I’ve had feelings for you for a while now, but I just.. I didn’t know what they meant. I didn’t know how to handle them. I’m just a simple soldier, you know,” he continued his confession, unable to resist your affection any longer.

Due to all the emotions, you hadn’t been able to speak your mind just yet. But now that you both had been able to catch your breaths, it was time to start sharing how you felt. “You’re not just a simple soldier, Echo. You're so much more. You're skilled and talented, you're caring and galant. You keep this squad sharp, and you're such an inspiration to them, to Omega. And to me. You are one of a kind, Echo.”

Now it was his time to look at you with blinking eyes, mouthing some silent words. Your face started to feel warm from his stare, and you shyly averted your gaze. But he caught you in the middle of your movement; your chin cupped in his hand, he gently guided your gaze back to his. “Does that.. Does that mean you, er- You feel the same about me?” he asked carefully, his eyes narrowing and an expectant frown covering his forehead.

His question was far from a surprise, but it still startled you. You were grateful to the Batch for picking you up and allowing you to stay, happy you could contribute on their missions. You felt comfortable with them; your newfound family, friends you could rely on. But you never considered your relationship with any of them to evolve into something more than that. “Obviously I care deeply about you, but I.. I never really thought.. Never considered..,” you stammered softly as you searched your feelings for the truth.

Echo’s touch around your chin weakened, and he let his hand slide away from your face. But before he could retract it completely, you caught his hand in yours mid air. You weren’t going to let him slip away from you. Not before you had been completely honest with him. He swallowed audibly, the muscles in his hand tensing due to his nerves. You squeezed it reassuringly, allowing his muddled mind to clear a bit, making him remember Omega’s earlier words, when she tried figuring out his own feelings. “So what.. What do you feel when I'm near or when you think about me?”

A warm smile adorned your face before you closed your eyes, ready to search for the answer to his question as you still held his hand. “I feel safe, mostly. Like I don't have to worry as long as you're around. There's this feeling of.. Comfort. Like I've known you for years. As if we fit together like.. Like puzzle pieces.” Your smile widened for a moment, your lips pushing your cheeks upwards. With your eyes still closed, you didn't notice the look of affection on Echo's face as he beheld your soft features. Carefully, you stretched your free hand towards his cheek, tenderly caressing his skin once you reached him. “You make me feel whole.”

And with those words, you opened your eyes again. When you looked at him, you noticed a slightly twitching frown on his face; like he was holding back tears. You had never seen him this vulnerable before, but simultaneously, he looked like he could conquer the whole Empire. He was strong. Fierce. Invincible. With your thumb, you wiped away what looked like a tear, and with a relieved sigh, he leaned into your touch as your hand still laid on his cheek.

Softly, he placed a kiss on the inside of your hand, before he looked right into your eyes, his golden eyes reflecting all the lights inside the ship. Like a golden nebula holding an array of stars. “Then would you please be mine?” he asked you with a longing and desire that made you shudder in your seat. “There’s nothing in the galaxy I’d rather want,” you replied softly, before sliding from your chair and moving towards him, where he lifted you upon his lap so the both of you could continue your passionate kissing.

The truth was finally out and the galaxy laid wide open in front of you.

…

Epilogue

Outside the Marauder, Omega was pacing back and forth, a troubled look clouding her eyes. With a grunt, she wasn’t shy about showing her impatience. “Ugh, it’s taking so long! Maybe.. Maybe I should go check, see if everything’s alright?”

Sitting near her, his back arched against a cargo crate, Hunter sheathed his vibro-knife before sitting upright. With a focussed frown covering his face, he turned his attention towards the ship. After a very brief moment, his features softened again. “Best if you wait a little longer. I’m sure they’re figuring things out just fine,” he eased Omega’s troubled mind, before returning to his thoughts.

An affectionate smile appeared on his face when he watched Omega find something else that required her attention, granting you and Echo some more precious time together. With the war fresh on his mind and the rise of the Empire raising only more questions and concerns, Hunter was glad at least some good had come from it all.

Let me put it this way, I'm never not thinking about Echo's one-armed pull ups.

MASTERLIST

Welcome to the masterlist! Please note that any works that are for more of a mature audience with be marked and noted accordingly. Enjoy!!

HEADCANNONS

OC STORIES

Juno x Tech

There is More Than One Way to Say ' I Love You'

The Afterlife (WIP)

Arya x Echo

The Hike (Multipart)

A Familiar Melody (Pirate/Mermaid AU)

Clone Wars Incorrect Quotes

Echo into his comm: Rex? Hi... Um, so Fives and the General and I were playing hide and seek with the Commander...

Rex: what did you do?

Echo: Fives found a cleaning supply closet and good news, it makes a great hiding place. Bad news, he locked himself inside by accident.

Rex: That's not exactly bad news, depending on who you are -- Could you PLEASE tell Ahsoka to stop screaming?

Echo: *sighs* That's Fives.

Ahhhh! I’m so excited to see what comes of OC week!

Day one of @clonexocweek is here! Day one is introductions so here we go!

Naria Pamari is my Pantoran Jedi OC. Following the bombing at the Jedi Temple and Ahsoka leaving the order, she needs a break from everything. So what’s a girl to do? Why, get convinced by her street thief friend to go to a Clone Bar on Coruscant of course!

Long story short, she meets Hunter there when he’s there with the rest of the Batch honoring 99’s sacrifice. The two end up talking and….well, Naria is smitten and conflicted. She’s a Jedi and he’s a Clone; it can’t possibly work out, can it?

Very excited for this week! Hoping to do all seven days. (We’ll see with my school and work schedule 😅)

My Heart is Yours, and so are my Brothers

Pairing: Tbb Echo/fem reader

Word count: 6.5 K

Gift for: @eclec-tech for the @cloneficgiftexchange 2024 life day exchange

Prompt: clone asks reader to be part of his family

Tags/warnings: Light angst, emotional hurt/comfort, mentioned past familial issues/toxicity, (I tried to keep it vague), insecurities, domestic/romantic fluff, found family, soft and cosy life day feels

Summary: You have always felt like you don’t fit within your own family. Echo is determined to show you that in his, your place is not something you have to earn, and the love they show you is nothing short of unconditional. And if that takes you overworking yourself, a life day baking mishap, and your beloved scooping you up and offering out a helping hand as soon as you show signs of beginning to fall, well... sometimes, that’s just how it goes.

Authors note: This was written as a gift for Amber, who has become such a good friend to me and ironically, is also my usual beta. We had, actually, briefly joked and giggled over the idea of one of us being paired with the others prompts... until it actually happened. So, I would also like to thank Carol: @clonethirstingisreal for betaing this work. It was a huge relief knowing that you could step in for this one, as I didn’t want to ruin Amber’s surprise by making her also be the one who has to edit it, because how mean would that be? This story can also be read on my ao3(check pinned for link) and I truly had so much fun writing it. Dare I say, one of the writing highlights of my year 😉 if you enjoy, please consider dropping a reblog. Sharing is always so so appreciated, as well as comments. Happy holidays, and happy life day🎄❄️

Waking up to the piercing shriek of your smoke detector, you think, your brain still groggy and slow from your impromptu nap, is definitely not a good sign.

Your heart is pounding, rattling furiously within the confines of your chest, your mind and body still trying to comprehend going from out cold on the couch to frantically running around the kitchen like a maniac, swiftly opening the oven door to discover what is no doubt the source of the alarm’s high pitched wails

It’s only after using a hastily dampened towel to smother the flames, vigorously flapping it 

around to beat out the lingering smoke, that you’re still hammering heart rate finally begins to slow, and you allow yourself to take a drawn-out, steady breath, forcing yourself to calm as you anxiously peer into the oven.

You can tell, just from the acrid stench, that it’s bad. 

Still, you’re not prepared to find the batch of freshly made cookies, each patiently dusted with a generous helping of sugar so that each chocolate surface appears as if snowflakes had found their landing place there, are nothing but crumbling, blackened crisps against the stark white of the baking sheet in the tray.

You shouldn’t have sat down, you think, strangely detached as with shaky, oven mitt-covered hands, you remove the tray from the oven, setting it down on the counter and gazing at what was supposed to be your life day offering to Echo’s family, to express your gratitude at their generosity for inviting you to their festivities.

It meant more to you than they would ever know. 

They didn’t know that your own family looked down on you with disappointment. They didn’t know that you had fled to Pabu precisely with the intent to walk away from them in an effort to save yourself from more hurt. They didn’t know that you, stupidly and still with the embarrassing desperation of a child who might do anything to earn even just a smile of approval from those around her, want, need them to approve of you, and not just in the way that family members do because she’s their  brother’s partner, but in a way that feels like they genuinely like you, and actually want to have you around.

But regardless, they still showed up at your door. Hunter, who you’ve only shared passing greetings with and who has, up until this point, been virtually a mutual acquaintance, and Omega, who despite having only caught glimpses of her around the island when she takes her hound out for a walk, had beamed at you, bright eyed and familiar, as if you had known each other for years.

It had touched you, and Hunter’s evident warm and sincere invite to their Life Day celebrations had made you just as excited as it did become a source of anxiety over the following weeks.

Nights where you should have been sleeping, instead were spent tossing and turning, trying to plan out every aspect. What you would say, what you would do, what you would bring to express your thanks to them.

Well, here it was, you think, suddenly grim. All your planning had amounted to what was now laid out before you in a charred, stinking heap, served on a tray.

Perhaps, if you were thinking logically, you would have shaken your head, let out a sigh of discontent before dumping the burnt cookies into the compost, giving yourself five minutes to take a break, then rolled up your sleeves, set your shoulders, and jumped right back into making a second batch, being extra careful to pay attention, never straying from focussing on your task.

Unfortunately, though, you weren’t, at present, thinking logically in the slightest. Thanks to the lack of sleep you had so desperately tried to ignore until it creeped up on you when you had collapsed onto the couch once the cookies were in the oven, and the stubbornly persistent overwhelm that you had convinced yourself you weren’t actually feeling, which had worked, at least until now.

Until you look down once more to survey the mess that had come out of a whole afternoon’s work, that you had so diligently, with both nervous and eager anticipation, been fretting over to make the perfect gift, the façade of composure, of pretending that the anxiety that had been stirring in your stomach for weeks was, actually, just excitement, cracks. And once it does, it’s easy for the whole thing to come down, crumbling around you as if it’s as fragile as the chipped and breaking edges of the cookies on the tray in front of you.

So, instead of reacting reasonably, your actions fuelled by logic, your response is to turn, press your face into your baking apron, and burst into tears.

It’s silly, you know, from the very first sob that claws its way up your throat despite your valiant attempt to stop it, that your reaction is so, so unjustified given the situation. They’re just cookies. They just got burnt. A new batch can be made and somewhere, deep down, you know all of this. 

But well, your mother always had a habit of calling you overly sensitive as a child, punctuating that remark with a signature roll of her eyes. Your father would pipe up, in a tone that probably meant to sound more encouraging but just ended up coming across as condescending, “you need to grow some thicker skin, kid.”

This is solid, concrete proof that this particular piece of advice had never truly been heeded, or, if you’re honest, had never really been understood to begin with.

Your breath hitches in your throat, because the desire to push back the tide is still present, if not to stop, then at least to muffle, to not hear the discomforting, ugly sounds you make when you cry. Still, the tears fall, and quiet, broken whimpers and sniffles fall from your lips anyway.

And then, because apparently this day just seeks to prove how absolutely bad your luck is, Echo takes this moment to walk through the door of your shared small house.

You hear the sound of an umbrella being folded, boots being rhythmically stamped against the doormat as Echo steps inside, evidently trying to rid his boots of the dried mud that gets clumped together in the creases, so common this time of year on Pabu, and the quiet hiss of the door as it slides back into place behind him.

Then, in a murmur that carries from the small alcove into your kitchen, he calls your name and instantly, you freeze. For some reason, you believe that if you can just stand as still as possible, if you can bite down on your lip hard enough and not make a single sound, not even a breath, he won’t see you, won’t know that you still get upset and cry over little, seemingly inconsequential things like this, which is completely ridiculous, you know. But still, you’ve already established that right now, your actions are dictated by nothing more than pure instinct, and, at least today, your instinct is incredibly off target.

There’s a brief pause, the sound of Echo bending down, hastening to remove his boots, then a quick, light pitter patter of footsteps against the floor as he moves through the space to find you.

There’s a soft breath, an oh of realization as he steps through the threshold of the kitchen, standing completely still as he observes, pausing to take in, what must be, quite the sight before him. You, on the other hand, don’t look, don’t want to see the mixture of both pity and confusion that surely is displayed in his eyes. So you don’t, keeping your face covered with your hands, trying to make yourself as small as possible.

“Oh, cyar,” he breathes, and his voice isn’t mocking or disappointed or underlined with the sharp bite of disapproval, but instead it’s soft. It’s warm and smooth which only serves to remind you of the honeyed hue within his golden eyes whenever he looks at you and it’s soft, so warm, and so soft that your resolve melts in the sincere, empathetic face of it, and you’re moving towards him before he’s even finished speaking.

“Come here, ner kar’ta,” he says, his voice a low, gentle murmur as he opens his arms, just in time for you to come scrambling, throwing yourself into them with a muffled sob against the material of his sweater, pressing your face against his chest and clinging onto any part of him you can reach. There’s a soft puff of breath that you feel lightly ruffle your hair before his lips gently press against your forehead, lingering there as he whispers “That’s my girl. See? I have you. We’re okay”

His scomp arm is a heavy, familiar weight as it runs along the small of your back, settling at your waist as he guides you closer. He doesn’t needlessly comment. He doesn’t pepper you with questions or demand an explanation of what’s wrong.

Instead, he simply tucks your head beneath  his chin, his hand gentle as it lingers to brush through and stroke your hair. He holds you in his arms, slightly swaying on the spot, the slow, repetitive back-and-forth as he rocks you, settling your uneasy heart as you sniffle, quietly allowing yourself to give into the tears. 

The only sounds that fall from Echo’s lips aren’t so much words as they are just familiar, soothing noises. The soft “shh,” as his hand gently cups the back of your head or the gentle, barely there kisses, lightly scattered across the top of your head and the quiet, steady exhalation of breath that you become more and more aware of as your tears begin to slow.

“Hey, beautiful,” he says, his voice a low, gentle rumble as he pulls back slightly, noticing you peeking up at him through watery eyes and stroking his hand along your cheek, brushing away your tears with his thumb. “Rough day?”

A sound that could either be classified as a laugh or a small, broken sob is pulled from your lips as you look up at him, nodding your head. 

“Sorry,” you mumble, your cheeks flooding with heat. “I didn’t mean to react like that, I just.”

“Shh,” he lightly cuts you off by leaning forward, lips a soft brush against yours as he lingers there, warm, golden eyes intent as they search yours, taking in your expression, the drying tear tracks on your cheeks, the dark circles beneath your eyes.

“When’s the last time you got a full night's sleep?” he asks, and the question feels so off-topic that for a few seconds, you blink up at him, looking bewildered before you shake your head, shrugging.

“I, I don’t I um?”

Apparently, your hesitation and seeming inability to come up with a suitable answer is confirmation enough, and Echo, making a small, exasperated gesture with his scomp, clicks his tongue with disapproval.

“That’s what I thought,” he sighs, a hand running over the back of his head as he looks down at you. “Right, well, let me worry about cleaning up here. I want you to at least sit down and get some rest.”

“I can’t,” you sputter, your eyes widening. “Echo, me taking a nap is the exact reason why all of this,” you gesture towards the burnt cookies on the counter, “happened. I need to get to work on a new batch so that I have something to bring over to your family’s house for dinner tomorrow.”

“And we will,” Echo’s voice is patient, but there’s an underlying, stern edge that’s crept into it that breeches no room for argument as he ushers you into the living room, hand on the small of your back as he guides you over to an armchair. “But, cyar, you’ve just told me that you’ve already taken a nap?” he asks, folding his arms.

“Yeah,” you say, your lips tilted downward in a confused frown as you turn to look up at him. 

“And isn’t a nap supposed to make you feel more well rested afterward?” he asks, the question clearly rhetorical as he takes your chin in his hand, thumb pointedly brushing along the bag beneath one of your eyes. 

The silence he gets in response to that remains uncontested, and he smirks, satisfied in the knowledge that he has you beaten.

“No arguing with me on this one, princess,” he says gruffly, which makes you glare at him even as he lightly pushes your unresisting body down into the armchair, moving to pull out the Ottoman from beneath. “I’m not asking you to sleep. Just rest while I clean up the kitchen. We’ll figure everything else out once I’m finished, okay?” 

“Fine,” you huff, looking up at him with a stubborn set to your jaw before you add “but only if you kiss me first.”

Echo’s chuckle is warm and deep, his eyes soft as he leans down to oblige you, first brushing his lips against your forehead, your cheek, the corner of your mouth, lingering at each spot.

“Now that, I can gladly do,” he murmurs, his voice a soft breath that brushes against your lips before he’s closing the distance, his lips pressing against yours in a warm, tender kiss.

When he pulls back, your eyes flutter open. Echo’s smile is small, but sweet and conveys the infinite amount of affection that he holds for you as he moves, retrieving a neatly folded throw blanket, from where it’s been draped over the back of the couch. He unfolds it, letting you see the depiction of a group of tookas snuggled together in front of a fireplace that’s been illustrated on the soft fabric, before moving back towards you, wrapping it around you, taking his time to make sure that you’re bundled up just right, movements soft and careful as he does.

“Just rest, Cyar’ika,” he reaffirms, pressing one last kiss to the top of your head before straightening, moving back towards the kitchen in long strides. “We’ll sort everything out, I promise.”

And because it’s Echo, and Echo always keeps his promises, you actually believe him.

*

Surprisingly, once you’re sat down and comfortable, you find it easy to, if not fall asleep, simply drift and allow yourself to zone out.

You can faintly hear the sounds of Echo moving around your kitchen. There’s light footsteps, water running as he does the dishes in the sink, the soft, warm rumble of his baritone as he quietly hums an unfamiliar tune. Your eyes drift close, and the next time you let yourself float back into awareness, he’s there, smiling down at you, a beloved pair of your slippers tucked beneath his arm, a steaming mug held out as an offering in his hand.

“Careful,” he cautions you as you eagerly reach for it, making sure it is securely held within your grasp before letting go. “It’s still hot.”

You look down to survey the contents, a smile pulling at the corners of your lips as soon as you register the warm, sweet scent of hot chocolate. He’s piled it high with marshmallows and whip cream, which he’s always rolled his eyes at you for adding.

“I don’t get it,” he would often say with fond exasperation, arms folded across his chest. “Why do you need to add extras? It’s already sweet to begin with.”

Seeing that he has evidently so lovingly prepared it in the way that you enjoy pulls your lips upward into a smile and you beam at him, your eyes lighting up for the first time in what feels like days. 

You grin up at him, indulging yourself in a tiny sip, your eyes closing with delight before you utter a quiet, but sincere thank you. 

“I still think it’s too sweet with all that,” he grumbles, a small, perplexed crinkle between his eyebrows as he sinks to his knees at your feet. “But anything for you, Cyar’ika.”

He gently takes one of your feet in his hands, seeming to contemplate it as he sets the pair of slippers at his side. 

“Have you considered,” he asks idly, scomp carefully resting on your ankle, as with the other hand he curls one of his fingers, lightly pressing his knuckle against the overworked arch of your foot. “That you’ve been doing too much?”

As if to accentuate his words, he slowly begins to rotate his wrist, the drag of his knuckle a gentle, but steady, pressure that instantly causes your eyes to flutter closed. It feels good. It feels wonderful, actually. He’s working with obvious deliberation and care, but he’s also, quite effectively, digging into sore spots and tendons that you didn’t realize you were carrying, and the relief is instantaneous.

“I wanted it to be a surprise,” you admit, unable to bring yourself to open your eyes and look down at him. “For them and for you.”

He hums, a quiet understanding as he lightly grasps your Achilles tendon between his thumb and index finger, slow and gentle as he strokes towards your heel. He’s quiet for a moment, remaining completely focused on you, thoughtful as he keeps up with his task.

“Well,” he murmurs, lips twitching upward as he gently pulls at each of your toes, slight tugs to coax tension to release in each. “As nice as that would have been, I think I’ll be much happier helping you bake the second attempt.”

He gives you a rueful grin, easing one of your slippers onto your foot with a small assist from you before moving to repeat his prior treatment with the other.

“You’ll have to teach me, though,” he says, voice apologetic. “I’m afraid I’ve never been much of a baker. But, I’m willing to learn, and hey, we can finally put some of those scomp attachments that Tech has fitted me with to use.”

You laugh softly, your lips pulling upward into a matching smile. Tech, when he had miraculously found his way back to his family, returned needing extensive recovery and physiotherapy, with so many of his bones having been broken or shattered, including in his fingers and hands. To regain the dexterity that he once coveted, he was often found working on some project or another, requiring a constant flow of them to keep his agile and ever working mind occupied until the medics would allow him to walk again.

Crosshair, being Crosshair, had very limited patience, only sitting long enough to allow his brother to fit him with an appropriate cybernetic, fiddling with and rewiring servos to make it more effectively attuned to him. But, once he had started suggesting certain modifications, Crosshair had stomped off, rolling his eyes and tossing over his shoulder “I’m not a droid, Tech. It’s fine, just leave it,” in his seemingly trademark annoyed tone.

Tech had pressed his lips together, and you had wondered, still on the outside and learning Echo’s family as you were, if he was hurt by Crosshair’s vehement rebuttal. Echo, standing beside you, seemed to come to a similar kind of conclusion, but had only stepped forward, laying a hand on Tech’s shoulder, sitting down beside him at his workstation.

“He might be opposed to adding some cool attachments, but I’m not,” Echo declared, giving his brother a light nudge. “What do you say, Tech. Think you can make me something I can use to give Crosshair a good smack?”

“I was thinking more along the lines of practicality,” Tech explained, hands folded in his lap. “Perhaps a flipper or spatula to ease the burden of cooking somewhat.”

His eyes, when he had looked up, were sparkling with amusement, and his lips tilted upward into a small, but evident smile when he had continued by saying, his voice nonchalant, “But I believe your idea also holds certain merit. If you have the patience to let me experiment, I believe we can do both.”

*

Luckily for Tech, Echo seemed to possess an infinite amount of patience to let him fiddle, his scomp sometimes attached, sometimes laying on the table between them, their heads bent low as they quietly conversed with each other. 

Echo was more than content to just sit and talk, of different attachment ideas, their uses both on the field and in simple, daily life, or of everything and nothing. You watched, quiet but observant, as Echo in his casual, straightforward way, brought Tech up to speed on the goings-on of him and his brothers whilst he was gone and inexplicably, you watched as Tech, still hunched over his work with his hands tangled amidst wire and components, allowed his shoulders to begin to soften, slowly pulling away from his ears as he listened to his brother talk.

You suspected that this was Echo’s way of making up for lost time with Tech, and for your part, you were more than happy to just be a silent, but present observer and support, there to reach for and squeeze Echo’s hand, or, if necessary, talk with him late into the night when you noticed his small tells of guilty, self blame ridden thought patterns starting to creep in.

Regardless of how it had initially started as simply mobility and skill recovery, Tech had, with the input of Echo, designed quite the variety of inventions for Echo’s scomp, one of which, you now found yourself in your kitchen, getting to test out its effectiveness for the first time.

“I have to say,” you murmur, arms wrapped around his waist as you observe him from behind, your chin lightly resting against his shoulder. “You’re doing a much better job than the stand mixer ever could.”

Echo stands, the attachment to his scomp lowered into the glass bowl, whirring as it stirs the ingredients. The mix looks smooth, slowly coming together in a blend. Echo lets out a low chuckle, and you can feel its slight rumble as he turns, retracting from the bowl and raising his scomp to give you a small salute.

“Happy to be of service,” he says with a smirk, startling slightly as a flake of the dough takes the opportunity to fall from the attachment, landing on the tip of his nose.

It’s your turn to giggle, and your hand stops him from instinctively moving to wipe it away as you rise onto your tiptoes, hurriedly exclaiming “I got it. I got it,” before you lean forward and, not giving him the time to protest, cheekily licking it off.

“You’re quite the opportunist,” he muses, moving towards the sink to remove the attachment and place it in a pile to be cleaned.

“Can I have what’s left on that?” you ask and he turns, a hand on his hip and his lips pressed together.

“Are you kidding? No,” he says, both exasperated and mortified. “That is so unsanitary. Meshla, do you realize how many diseases you could catch from eating raw cookie dough?” he asks, turning back to the sink.

“It was worth a shot,” you sigh in defeat, looking at the bowl of now mixed cookie dough with longing. You’re not usually this impatient and peckish for scraps. But really, after your first tried and failed attempt, you’re hungry, and eager to taste test the fruits of your labour

“What next, boss?” Echo asks a moment later, returning to your side and drying his hand on a tea towel.

“Now,” you say, beaming as you hold out an ice cream scooper to him. “Comes the fun part.”

*

“Perfect,” Echo murmurs in satisfaction, watching as the round ball of dough falls from the scoop into your waiting, cupped hands. 

The two of you had decided it would be easiest, and move faster, if it was done this way. Echo, working with a lot more precision than you had when you had been doing this on your own, using the ice cream scoop to separate the dough into little balls. And you, after retrieving them, dunking them into a bowl of white sugar, rolling each around until each surface had a generous amount dusted on, and setting each on the lined baking tray.

“This probably wasn’t how you envisioned spending the night of Life Day Eve,” you say quietly, your words tinged with a note of regret.

“None of that,” Echo gently chides, his shoulder lightly bumping against yours. “I’ve already told you, Cyar’ika, I really don’t mind that this is the way that it turned out.”

You’re quiet for a moment, and sensing your lingering hesitance, he continues. 

“You’re worried about spending time with them, aren’t you?” he asks, and his words aren’t accusatory, just a soft, knowing observation and you swallow, your eyes intent on your work as you nod your head slightly. 

“Yeah,” you admit, your voice barely a breath. “I know I’ve met all of them and have even spent time with a few of them when you come to visit, but this is different.”

“I understand that,” Echo murmurs, and from the sincerity in his voice, you can tell that he really does. “This feels more official than all of those other times?”

“Yeah,” you agree, setting the next ball on the cookie sheet and turning to receive the next one. “Life Day is all about family and mine... let’s just say they wouldn’t be overly thrilled to see me standing out on their doorstep if I showed up tomorrow for their celebration.” 

Echo hums, and the silence that follows is comfortable, thoughtful as he turns, contemplating you from the corner of his eye.

“But my family will,” he says quietly. “You know that, right? They’re really happy that you’ve agreed to come. Especially Omega. She’s been chattering my ear off about how excited she is to see you every time I’ve gone over to visit them.”

His mention of the girl pulls your lips up into a slight smile, but the sound you make is noncommittal and he frowns, taking a step forward, catching your chin in his hand.

“I need them to like me,” you say, trembling at the vulnerability in your own voice. “I need to do something, give them something so that I don’t...”

“Shh, sweetheart,” Echo softly interjects, thumb lightly brushing over your lips. “You don’t need to do anything. I promise, cyar, they already love you.”

“I doubt that,” you say, unable to hide the edge of residual bitterness that even now, still lingers in your voice. 

Echo is patient, letting out a breath, the backs of his knuckles gentle, unhurried, as they run along the curve of your cheek, as he takes a breath to carefully collect his next words.

“I know that your family has made you feel unwanted,” Echo says, after a moment's pause to collect himself. “And I know that a couple of words from me aren’t going to change how much that hurt you.”

His hand is, yet again, lightly nudging at your chin, bringing your eyes back up to focus on his warm, concerned golden depths.

“My heart is yours,” he says, his voice just a whisper, but still managing to carry the stone heavy weight of a promise beneath it. “And, if you want them to be, if you let them, my family will be your family, too.”

“Do they want that?” You ask, unable to hide the waiver in your voice.

Echo’s eyes soften, and you can’t help the way you nuzzle into his touch as he cups your cheek in his hand.

“They do,” he affirms, voice certain and steady. “And if that’s something you want, all you have to do is say so. I promise, cyar, whenever you’re ready, they’re waiting for you with open arms.”

“Y- you’re sure?” You ask in a shaking voice, and at the first glimmer of tears in your eyes, he’s reaching out, pulling you to his chest and holding you in his arms.

“I’m sure,” he says, without a glimpse of hesitance in his voice. “You don’t have to make any grand gestures for them to accept you, ner kar’ta. You just have to be my girl.”

He drops a kiss to the top of your head and, despite the blush that’s crawling up your cheeks, you squirm, tilting your head, going up onto your tiptoes to capture his lips with yours, to which he surrenders happily.

When you pull away, your cheeks are flushed, your lips slightly parted, and your voice breathless. 

“I, I think I can do that,” you murmur, looking up at him with a shy, barely concealed mix of nervousness and hope playing on your expression.

“I’m glad,” Echo beams, and the smile he gives you is a dazzling thing to behold. “Trust me, cyar, it’ll all turn out. You’ll see.”

You’re not really sure what he means by that, but, as you turn back to finish arranging the rest of the cookies, you decide that he has never led you wrong before, so you might as well take him at his word.

*

“Beauties,” Echo comments, bending to retrieve the cookie tray from the oven. “Now these aren’t such a bad batch, are they, meshla?”

Maybe it was the weight that you suddenly found had vanished from your shoulders after your and Echo’s chat, maybe it was just the late hour and the oven timer going off sending you a prolonged burst of energy. But you couldn’t help but bounce on the balls of your feet, peeking over Echo’s shoulder to catch a glimpse at the now perfectly baked, lightly sugar frosted chocolate crinkles.

“I know we should wait until tomorrow so that we can share them with everyone but...” you trail off, the indignant grumble of your stomach interrupting whatever excuse you were about to make.

Echo laughs, throwing his head back as his eyes sparkle with merriment. An arm wraps around your shoulders, and he tucks you against his side, looking down at you with a small grin.

“We made them. We deserve to taste test them,” he declares, and before you can protest, he swipes the nearest one from off the tray. “Want to share?”

You smile, nodding your head and helping him to break the cookie in equal halves.

“Cheers,” you grin, lightly bumping your half against his. Raising it to your lips, you indulge yourself in a large bite, closing your eyes and letting a soft “Mmm,” fall from your lips. It’s still warm, soft and gooey chocolate that melts in your mouth that reminds you, so quintessentially, of the holiday, and for once, only the good parts come to mind, as you watch Echo follow suit, though his first bite is much more delicate than yours. His eyes flutter close, and before you know it, both of you are looking at each other, your halves of the cookie gone within seconds.

You both smile, soft laughter falling from your lips as you both trade glances towards the tray, tempted to reach for another, but making a valiant effort to resist.

“Look at me, beautiful,” Echo hums. “You’ve got a little something right...”

He dips his head, leaning in, fingers delicately tilting your chin upward, lips warm as they brush against yours. You gasp, unable to hide a slight shiver as his tongue gently sweeps over your lips and he lets out a soft hum, fingers lightly teasing along your side, his hand eventually coming to rest at your hip. 

The kiss is sweet, filled with tenderness and topped with the lingering traces of sugar that Echo chases away with his lips. 

Faintly, as he pulls back just enough to rest his forehead against yours, feeling the soft puffs of air as you both try to regain your breath, you register the distant chimes of a grandfather clock, 12 rings of its bells to signify midnight, ringing in the new day with its song.

“Happiest of Life Days, Cyar’ika,” Echo whispers, a soft breath against your skin. 

“Happy Life Day, my love,” you say, your voice equally as soft.

Then, as the distant, echoing chimes of the clock ring and fade into the night, you cradle his face in your hands, tilting your head to kiss him again. You feel, for the first time in your recent memory of Life Days past, a sense of rightness, of knowing that here, with his warm body lightly pressing you against the counter and his soft lips settled against yours, content, it seems, to linger there until all coherent thoughts have been chased away from your mind with each teasing touch, that this is where you’re meant to be.

That somehow, despite having convinced yourself that you were never going to find it, you think that finally, truly, his arms might just be the safe, comforting place that you choose to call home.

*

“We made you a gift.”

Omega is beaming with excitement, almost on her tiptoes as she bounces on the balls of her feet with a wide smile, and looking down at her, it’s impossible not to be captivated and taken in by her infectious joy as she produces something from behind her back. 

Despite Echo’s stream of reassurances that all would be well as you left the house this afternoon, picking your way through rainy pathways and hopping around puddles, you still look to him now, reaching for his hand to feel the reassuring press of his fingers against yours.

“You did?” You ask, unable to hide the note of startled surprise in your voice. “I’m sorry, I didn’t bring something for each of you. I didn’t know what you would like and...”

“It’s a gift,” Crosshair cuts you off, folding his arms as he leans against the wall.

“We do not expect nor require you to provide anything in return,” Tech states, much more kindly as he gives you one of his small smiles. “We merely hope that you enjoy it.”

“Hunter did the carvings,” Omega says, very carefully lowering something into your hands. “But we all contributed in one way or another.”

You look down to find a snow globe, rested atop  a circular, wooden stand beneath, cupped within your hands. Inspecting it closely, you find that indeed, there is something to signify each brother within the carvings of wood that decorate the base. From the small carving of Tech’s goggles, to Hunter’s skull emblem and Crosshair’s tattoo. 

“I made the snow,” Omega declares proudly. “And Wrecker took the photo.”

“What photo?” You ask and Wrecker grins, leaning across you and touching a small, unnoticed button at the top of the glass. 

A holoimage slowly fades into focus within the glass orb, snow lightly swirling around it. It’s of you and Echo, sitting out on a porch swing and snuggled beneath a blanket. You remember how the rest of them had teased you both, saying that it wasn’t even that cold outside and was the blanket really necessary?

Wrecker, in particular, had let out a booming laugh, claiming that since the two of you seemed to run so cold, maybe it was a sign that the two of you were perfect for each other.

“Aw, look at the two a ya. You can keep each other warm,” he had grinned, and you can remember him snapping the photo shortly after that.

“We all have one,” Omega continues, pointing to the mantle above the fireplace where indeed, you see a line up of six other snow globes. “You can take yours home, or you can set it with ours, if you want to.”

“You, you would be fine with that?” You ask the room at large, scanning their faces. For some reason, it feels wrong, and you don’t want to insert yourself into their already established Life Day family traditions.

“Why not,” Hunter grins, gesturing to the mantle. “You’re one of us now.”

“Y- you’re sure?” You ask, unable to hide the waver that’s crept into your voice.

“Of course we are. You make him so happy,” Wrecker beams, and before you know it he’s enveloped you into a fierce, tight hug that simultaneously knocks all the air from your lungs while also, at the same time, making you feel like you’ve just let out the biggest sigh of relief. He lifts you off the floor, which makes you let out a sound, somewhere between a startled gasp and a laugh. “That seems like as good of a reason as any to me,” he continues, suddenly gentle and steadying as he sets you back down.

“It’s true,” Crosshair snarks, watching as he idly twirls a toothpick between his fingers. “I’ve never seen him look like such a lovesick puppy before,” he says, pulling a disgusted face as he slides the toothpick between his teeth.

“Oh, shut up,” Echo grumbles, but when you turn to him, he’s ducking his head, his cheeks having gone slightly pink. 

“I think it’s sweet,” Omega declares, lightly elbowing Crosshair in the ribs. He pretends to give her a glare, then, as payback, lunges forward, easily grappling her and beginning to attack her with tickles. The small house is momentarily filled with her shrieks and giggles which ends with Batcher, torn between which of her owners needs to be protected from the other, shoves between the two of them, nudging her snout at both sets of scrabbling hands to entreat them to pet her and give her head scratches, which both happily oblige her demand.

“You are by no means obligated to,” Tech cuts in, smoothly redirecting the conversation back to you. “It is our gift, and you may do with it as you wish. But, if you would like to place your snow globe alongside ours, we have made a space for you, right beside Echo’s.”

“I would,” you admit, voice soft, wistful.

Echo rises to his feet, his hand held out in a silent offering. After a moment's pause, you take it, letting him guide you towards the blazing heat of the fire that warms your toes, caressing up your legs as you get closer.

With hands that are shaking despite the warmth, you lift your snow globe, careful and gentle as you lower it down into the spot that they’ve made for you, smiling as it fits perfectly beside Echo’s.

“There,” Echo murmurs, and the smile he gives you is soft, speaking volumes of his affection.

An arm curls around your waist, and you melt into him as he pulls you against his chest, letting out a happy sigh as warm lips brush against your forehead. When he speaks his voice is low, soft, and meant for your ears alone.

“Welcome to the family, Cyar’ika. You have no idea how happy I am that you’re here.”

When he leans in to kiss you this time, standing by the fire and in front of all of his family, you start to get that same feeling you got late last night, when you had shared your first Life Day kiss with him. Only this time, it’s not a glimpse, or an echo or a maybe. When you tilt your head, rising up onto your tiptoes to meet him, warm contentment settling over you like a soft blanket, you know, without any second guessing or lingering reason to doubt, that he is your anchor, your lodestar, and, most of all, that Echo is your home.

•Thank you to @strangergraphics for these adorable Christmas themed dividers

There is More Than One Way to Say 'I Love You'

This is my first official post on here. Thank you to the lovely @wrenkenstein for creating such a beautiful character. The one and only Juno Caheere. I had an absolute blast writing this pair! I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I loved writing it! ❤️

~

THERE IS MORE THAN ONE WAY TO SAY ' I LOVE YOU'

Word count- 918

Rating- PG-13

It was another quiet night on the marauder. The hum of the engine traveling through hyperspace was soothing. Everyone except Tech and Juno was awake. Tech glanced over to her as his whole body started to hurt looking at the way she was sitting. She was half sitting crisscross with her right knee bent as it was holding her datapad as she worked. The dim blue glow shone a halo of light on her face. Tech would never admit that looking at her so enthralled with what she was doing was adorable. The way her tongue braced the seam of her lips as she focused. Her breathing changed when she got to the bottom of a problem. Her smirk in victory after completing another problem set. She and Tech would race to see who could finish a problem set the fastest. She loved the cognitive challenge that came with being precise in calculations but also being efficient to the point she could beat a genetically enhanced clone, whose advantage was intelligence. On nights when they took watch, it was filled with conversation on topics in academia, challenging past thoughts and research. Tech did not want to admit this to Juno, but he enjoyed her company. He admired how she challenged his thinking, their soft debates about various topics. She won't admit to Tech how much she enjoys his company as well. Juno would get this odd feeling in her stomach, and her heart would experience palpitations during some moments, it truly frustrated her how much of an effect Tech had on her. 

A furious blush painted her face as she tried to get control of her emotions. The soft smile that crept up onto Tech’s face did not help her situation. She felt her heart do somersaults in her chest, she felt herself becoming hyperfocus on her increased rates of breathing. She started to notice herself zoning out, she could hear the sound of Tech’s voice but she was stuck in her head. Juno was confused about why she felt this way, she knew this was against how she was brought up.  It made her very frustrated as she tried to understand her feelings and why they were different with Tech than the rest of the batch. She had theories as to why but there was some solid evidence that would support such a hypothesis but not enough for it truly to be a solid answer to said hypothesis. It was very overwhelming to her, trying to figure out such feelings. 

“Juno, is everything alright?” Tech inquired, gently pushing a strand of hair behind her ear. She jolted up at the sudden touch. Her gaze met his for a brief moment before her gaze went to her hands. Her heart was doing the same somersaults like they were doing not that long ago. Juno wanted nothing more than to talk but her tongue felt very heavy. Come on Juno! He asked you a question. SAY SOMETHING! Juno wanted nothing more than to say something but she couldn’t. Tech’s eyes softened as he noticed her discomfort. Her eyes wore a panicked expression as her gaze flickered between him and the panels behind him. Her breathing became very uneven. Tech noticed that instead of it getting better, her distress became a lot worse. Tech noted the panic in her eyes as she tried to process all of the things that were happening simultaneously. He set down his datapad on the console in front of him. 

This is not the first time this has happened. Juno and Tech have a routine when something like this happens. Juno surged into Tech’s arms, with her forehead pressing into his shoulder. He pulled her tighter to his body, his arms wrapping around her protectively. He gently kissed the crown of her hair. 

Tech had noted it had been exactly five minutes and forty-two seconds when Juno’s breathing started to become more regulated like it had been before. Juno’s teary gaze met Tech’s, his eyes full of concern and admiration. He gently brushed away the tears from her face. He leaned to press his forehead to hers gently. 

“Just keep breathing love, you are doing so well,” Tech murmured his eyes full of admiration. Juno smiled, sighing contently wrapping her arms around his body. 

The air between them changed, there was a magnetic pull between them. Juno felt Tech’s nose brush hers, she felt his breath on her lips as he leaned closer. It felt like an eternity before their lips touched in a gentle kiss. To Tech, she was his sun, providing him with light, warmth, and joy in his life. He loved her. She loved him. It drove Juno a little crazy how much she loved him. But he was her rock, her comfort. She never thought she would ever find this kind of calmness and solitude after her clan abandoned her. But she did. Their lips moved in sync with one another. They were savouring the feeling of each other's presence and touch. 

The words ‘I love you’ did not have to be said. They knew in their own way that they loved one another. They didn’t conform to a kind of love that the world would understand and accept. It was a love that they understood together and made it special. Despite their struggles to understand the outside world, they created their own world, one they could fully understand.

Besides, there is more than one way to say ‘I love you’.

Speak for yourself, motherfucker!

Crosshair