Hello :) Missing My Siblings So I Wrote This :)

Hello :) Missing my siblings so I wrote this :)

It’s sorta a continuation of this, which is a modern AU where Alpha is the oldest. @plainshobbit all of this is your fault <3

Alpha had agreed to babysit for the morning so mom and dad could catch up on sleep. He didn’t have work, his only class was in the afternoon, and for once he was caught up on homework. So while their parents slept in and the other boys left for school, Alpha got Cody his breakfast and Rex a bottle.

There was one couch in the living room where you could sit and see inside the kitchen, so Alpha settled there with Rex and the bottle and kept half an eye on where Cody sat in dad’s chair with the armrests, smearing scrambled eggs across the kitchen table. Hopefully he got some inside his mouth. Alpha would have to remember to get him a snack later.

Cody had good balance and Alpha had specifically put him in the only chair he couldn’t fall out of, so eventually he turned his attention from the kitchen to trying to get Rex to fall asleep with the power of warm milk. It was slow going. Rex was a weirdly alert baby.

Alpha had been five when Fordo was born. He hadn’t been able to help at the time but he’d helped a lot in the ensuing years. He didn’t remember much from when Fordo was a baby, but he remembered everything from when Cody was a newborn, and Cody had been sleepy and serious and calm.

Rex cried. A lot. If he wasn’t being held he was crying. Anyone who said babies didn’t have personalities didn’t spend much time around them.

But Rex had also been up all night, and apparently warm milk was just as effective on fussy babies as happy ones, and eventually Rex fell asleep, his little scrunched up face going lax and milk dribbling out of his mouth. Alpha wiped it up and set the mostly empty bottle on the floor and adjusted Rex to be upright against his shoulder. He didn’t want to burp him while he was asleep, but if he did burp or something Alpha wanted to be prepared.

Finally he breathed a long sigh and closed his eyes and let his head thunk against the back of the couch. He hadn’t been up all night, but he hadn’t gotten as much sleep as he should have, knowing he was going to be dealing with a toddler and a newborn in the morning.

This was going to be a long day.

After a few minutes he actually started to drift off so he didn’t notice the terrifying pitter patter of little feet until it was almost too late, jerking his head up just as something squishy slammed into his legs and catching Cody’s slimy hand right before it landed on his jeans.

“No. You can’t touch, you have egg on you,” he said, very stern.

Cody gave him a look that said as soon as Alpha let go of that hand he would also have egg on him.

“Don’t test me, brat,” he muttered under his breath.

Maintaining eye contact, Alpha released his grip and gently nudged Cody in the stomach with a socked foot. Cody scowled and took a few steps back.

Leaning as far over as he could without dropping Rex, Alpha fumbled around in the diaper bag next to the couch and found a packet of wipes. Cody whined and wriggled as Alpha cleaned his face and hands, but suffered the indignity. Alpha would have to remember to clean the kitchen before their parents woke up.

When he was clean Cody again threw himself against Alpha’s legs, waving one fist in the air in Rex’s general direction.

“Wha’ ith?”

“What is it?” Alpha translated. “It’s baby Rex.”

“Baby Reth?”

“Baby Rex.” Alpha shifted the baby, regarding Cody with a raised eyebrow. “You want to hold him?”

“Ho’l da baby?”

“Hold the baby, that’s right. Come sit.”

Cody pulled himself up onto the couch, grunting with exertion and heaving a sigh as he flopped next to Alpha.

He’d held Rex once already, in the hospital when they’d all gone to visit mom, propped up next to her in the bed and with dad’s arms supporting his own. But that had been a whole four days ago and he likely didn’t remember.

Alpha hesitated, and then carefully set Rex on the cushion on his other side and reached over to pull Cody into his lap. Cody kicked his legs, giggling as he settled.

“Hold still. You have to hold still.”

“Ho’d still?”

“That’s right. Hold still. Now, put your arms like this.”

Alpha tugged at Cody’s arms until they were curved with enough room to cradle a baby.

“Dis?”

“This. Right. Good.”

Alpha leaned over, making sure he didn’t dislodge Cody, and picked up Rex. Ever so carefully he maneuvered the baby into Cody’s hold, keeping his own arms wrapped around both of them so as to keep the whole squirmy mess of small child contained.

Cody made a little sound of excited wonder when Rex settled in his arms, miraculously still asleep. Alpha smiled, resting his chin on top of Cody’s head. They were both so very small.

“Sleepin!”

“Yes, the baby’s sleeping.”

Cody pulled a hand free– Alpha adjusted his own hold to compensate– and patted Rex forcefully on the head.

Alpha sucked in a breath. “Gentle, Cody. You have to be gentle. See, like this.”

He maneuvered until he could free his own hand, and then took Cody’s and smoothed down Rex’s curls. “Gentle.”

“Gent’o.”

“That’s right. Good job.”

With Alpha’s help Cody sat still and stroked Rex’s hair for almost a full minute, before he got bored and wiggled to be released. Alpha lifted Rex up so Cody could squirm down out of his lap.

Cody took off towards the stairs, thundering up with all the strength in his little legs. The older boys had started locking their doors as soon as Cody learned to walk, so he should be fine on his own up there for a bit.

Alpha settled back against the couch once again, Rex a warm weight against his chest. His hair was very soft, and he had a lot of it– dark wispy curls on his head and dark soft fuzz on the back of his neck and shoulders. The blue blanket he’d been sort of swaddled in had come untucked with all the movement, though somehow Rex had remained asleep. Maybe the harder it was to get a baby to sleep the harder it was to wake them up.

Alpha re-wrapped the blanket as best he could, pressed a kiss to the top of Rex’s head, and then grabbed his phone with the intention of doing some mindless scrolling while he waited for the sound of something breaking to echo down the stairs.

Seguir leyendo

"Cyar'ika"

Based on that post by @vclkyrxe

. . .

The pride Anakin constantly felt for his men was doubled with their latest victory and he swaggered down the hallways of the cruiser in an excellent mood.

The 501st had worked seamlessly alongside their brothers of the 212th, thriving under the joint leadership of Rex and Cody and making it out of their latest battle relatively unscathed, with minor injuries and zero fatalities. It was a tragically uncommon outcome.

Anakin congratulated the men he passed in the corridors, clasping shoulders and forearms, cherishing their smiles. Too often, they had so little to smile about. There were less and less troopers to greet as he neared the Jedi quarters; they had little need to venture down such hallways after all. Their absence saddened Anakin greatly, so used to their presence, wishing once again that he could be permitted to bunk with his men. The dog-piles of clones he often found himself in when resting mid-battle were surprisingly comfortable.

It wasn’t appropriate, however. Not for a Jedi.

Voices startled him, having expected that familiar, lonely silence, and curious at why it was broken.

“… more careful, general. Today could have gone much differently.”

It was Cody. Anakin knew the timbre of his voice. He must be debriefing with his general and, from what Anakin was overhearing, this particular debrief was more along the lines of a lecture. He smirked, leaned back against the wall outside his master’s room to listen to him get told off for once.

“You needn’t worry, Commander. I had it under control.”

“Sometimes I wonder if you know what that word means,” Cody huffed in reply to his general’s airy dismissal. “Fine. Don’t be careful. Just, keep in mind, someday I might not be there. I could get shot down mid battle and you may not notice for the duration—”

“Cody,” said Obi-Wan, quite firm, and Anakin recognised that tone: chiding, but ultimately so gentle. “I would feel your loss instantly.”

Anakin nodded, so enthused with agreement that he forgot briefly that he wasn’t a part of the conversation. The clones had a habit of downplaying their worth. They couldn’t be blamed, of course, having been created by those who believed they were expendable, but Anakin knew different. He knew that, if Rex should fall, he would feel it.

There was silence following Obi-Wan’s words but it broke now with Cody’s softened voice.

“It does not… invalidate my point, sir.”

“Cyar’ika,” Obi-Wan sighed and the word stuck in Anakin’s mind, knowing in his heart that it was important, feeling the weight and emotion behind it. “I hear you… and I will do my upmost to ease your anxiety.”

“That feels like a weak promise.”

“Well, I know if I tell you I’ll stop being reckless, you’ll just see right through me.”

Cody chuckled, completely genuine, untainted with bitterness or exasperation. It was such an unfamiliar sound. “I suppose it will do for now.”

There was a moment of silence. Anakin had to hold himself back from prying, from reaching out into the force to know what was happening in that room.

“I need to see to the men,” said Cody. “For some of them, a victory is just as hard as a defeat.”

“Let me know if there’s anything I can do.”

“Of course, general.”

The door opened and Anakin almost tripped over himself, realising quickly that he would not get away in time and simply leaning back against the wall, resting his chin in his hand with as much feigned nonchalance as he could muster. His goal had been to not draw attention. When Cody exited the room, however, the commander looked right at him.

His helmet was tucked under one arm, his eyes widening a moment, just a fraction, in surprise, before he set himself a carefully neutral expression.

“General Skywalker,” he acknowledged, setting off down the corridor, and Anakin grimaced a smile through his fingers.

“Cody,” he said in reply, closing his eyes in self-frustration when the man was out of sight because he definitely knew Anakin had been eavesdropping.

He wasn’t the only one.

“Anakin.”

Slowly, he turned his head. His hand lowered from his mouth. “Hey…?”

“What are you doing out here?” Obi-Wan asked, looking slightly alarmed, though it may have been because his hair was slightly out of place.

“I was coming to change out of my armour,” said Anakin honestly, “and then, well, I wasn’t expecting Cody to be down here and it, y’know, caught me off guard for a minute.”

Obi-Wan had a thoroughly unconvinced expression on his face, but he said nothing to contradict his former apprentice. “Cody was debriefing me on the battle. The men did well; the Seventh Sky Corps were very effective… Although, he was unhappy with the way I handled myself towards the end.”

“You mean when you were free falling between gunships?”

Obi-Wan’s jaw shifted. “Yes, precisely.”

An uncertain silence stretched out and Anakin shifted his weight between his feet. “So,” said Anakin, hoping to ease his master’s obvious and uncharacteristic discomfort, “‘cyar’ika’…? Haven’t heard that one before.”

“Ah, yes,” replied Obi-Wan, aiming for nonchalant, but no less tense. “It’s a Mando’a word. A… term of endearment, I suppose, for someone I admire and respect very much. Cody—all the clones, in fact—they aren’t used to praise. It’s good for him to know that he is valued.”

Anakin nodded, eager to validate him. “Of course, Master. I agree.”

In Anakin’s mind at least, Obi-Wan wasn’t doing anything wrong. Anakin loved his men like brothers, valued each and every one of them and hoped he conveyed that as much as possible. He knew his master had qualms about attachment, but it was a difficult thing to avoid in war. Without their friends in the clones, they would be lost.

It seemed, however, that—despite his master’s disapproval of such things—he was making a special effort to relate to his men, using words of their heritage language to address them, to assure them they were important. The older clones were fluent in Mando’a and many made it their mission to pass that knowledge on to the younger generations, now that Jango Fett was no longer there to train them. They would rarely have full conversations, but Anakin heard them speak the language often, words and phrases in passing. It had become so natural that he hadn’t thought twice about it.

He was unfamiliar with this new word, however. Rex had never said that before. Anakin new the Kaminoans had not treated the clones well, but he saw Rex with his brothers—with their younger troopers especially—and he knew his captain had not taken much personality from his creators. He was good with the men. He was less willing to accept praise himself, however.

Anakin made a silent vow to change that.

. . .

Anakin spent the rest of the day honouring his vow, honouring his men left and right.

He did as he usually would, praising men in the corridors with “good work today”, and calling up to the clone mechanics atop the damaged gunships with “looking good”, and stopping by the infirmary with “rest up”. “Men” or “troops” would normally round off each encouraging call, but today he left them with “cyar’ika”. It earned him a lot of rapid blinking and confused smiles. Fives laughed aloud when he heard it.

“You too, sir!” he chortled when Anakin praised him in passing for a job well done, but he had always been boisterous. Jesse, walking beside him, stopped and stared, gaping a moment before Fives dragged him along.

Anakin knew the men must be accustomed to his praise by now, so he attributed their surprise to his newly learned term of affection and honour. He hadn’t spoken Mando’a before, it was true, and it clearly came as a surprise to his men. Anakin hoped they would become used to it. Each and every one of them deserved admiration.

“Captain,” Anakin greeted, settled in the debriefing chamber after an hour or so of practicing his new compliment, watching Rex enter, still fully armour-clad.

When the helmets were on, most clones preferred correct procedure and, as independently minded as Rex was, he was no different in that respect.

“Sir,” said Rex in return, lifted his hands to remove his helmet and it put Anakin at ease. “I spoke to the engineers. We only lost one gunship this time. The rest are repairable; some will need more time than others, but they’ll fly again.”

Anakin let him rattle on, listening patiently as his captain filled him in on battle time and potential changes. Rex was very much a man who believed his strategies could always be improved upon, no matter how much Anakin tried to praise him and his intelligence. It was just further proof of his humble, self-critical nature.

“Rex,” said Anakin, half interrupting his talk of rations and mentally kicking himself because he should have used that word. He would slip in in somewhere. “How are you? How are the men?”

“Very well, sir,” Rex replied with a small nod, not seeming surprised to be asked such a thing and that could only be good. “It’s not often we get out without losing anyone, so we’re all feeling very grateful. Worst injury out there are some second-degree burns. Kix is saying they’ll scar but won’t leave any lasting damage. We got lucky.”

“Luck has nothing to do with it. Your skill and tactical mind helped a lot of people today, cyar’ika. You should be proud.”

Rex didn’t brush off the praise as he usually would, and Anakin frowned as Rex stared, a slight flush to his cheeks.

“Sir,” he said eventually, cleared his throat, “if I may, where did you pick up that word?”

“Do the 501st not use Mando’a?” Anakin asked, worried now that Rex may have chosen to cut his Mandalorian ties and Anakin had just offended him. “I thought I heard you sometimes—”

“We—We do, sir. Many phrases are part of our daily… lingo, I suppose, but that…”

“Did I pronounce it wrong?”

“Sir… do you know what it means?”

It dawned on Anakin suddenly that it was an intimate thing to compliment someone in their own language. “Rex,” he said through an exhale, rising to his feet to take Rex’s shoulders. The captain’s flush deepened, keeping searching eyes on his general. “You deserve admiration. I know the Kaminoans taught you otherwise, but I make it a point not to listen to those who treat people like property… I know it’s a Mando’a word and I’m not a clone, so tell me if I’m overstepping, but I see us as brothers. I had hoped you felt the same.”

Rex gaped a moment, closing his mouth with a click. “Sir, I don’t think you know, so I’m just going to tell it to you straight. ‘Cyar’ika’ is a term of romantic endearment. Loosely translated it means ‘darling’ or… ‘sweetheart’.”

Anakin stared at him, slowly releasing his shoulders. The blushing was making sense now. “That can’t be right…”

“It’s what Fives calls his lovers… They seem to like it, I suppose, but—”

“That’s what Fives calls…?” Anakin echoed, trailing in disbelief because Fives’ response to being called Cyar’ika suddenly made a lot more sense now that he had that flirtatious context.

“What did you think it meant?”

“Well, I didn’t think that!” exclaimed Anakin, waving a hand because Rex’s lips were twitching in the beginnings of a grin. “Okay, no, there has to be some other context to it. Surely it can be used platonically.”

“It really can’t,” said Rex, tilted his head in interest. “Who taught you that word, sir?”

It clicked suddenly—properly this time—and Anakin exhaled in disbelief because there was no doubt in his mind that Obi-Wan knew the real meaning of that word. There was no question now that Obi-Wan had lied to him, or—at the very least—twisted the truth enough not to be honest at all.

“I made… an assumption,” said Anakin slowly, “and I was very mistaken.”

He wondered how deep his misunderstanding ran.

If it had reached a point where Obi-Wan was calling Cody by a name that could only be awarded to lovers, then the image he had created of his master in his mind must be very mistaken indeed.

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endortheline

1 week ago

Okay so idea for angsty fic with Fiyero actually shooting Glinda in the cornfield. Meanwhile Elphaba doesn’t know that Glinda is hurt and is casting the spell trying to save Fiyero who manages to escape (he’s traumatized). Glinda is declared “dead” becomes a martyr. But, somehow Elphie’s spell affects her and Morrible works some magic that has surprising effects on Glinda

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endortheline

6 months ago

Cramps

It's Alastor's "time of the month", and he's afraid that people will find out. Of course, it's just his luck that his pad leaks... and Lucifer is the one to notice.

(This may be OOC, as it's based on our Alastor and Lucifer fictives)

Pairing: Radioapple (can be read as platonic, queerplatonic, or romantic)

Warnings: menstruation, internalized transphobia, T slur (said by a trans person + author is trans), smoking weed

this is the first fic we've written in a long time, apologies if it's bad lmao

Alastor sighs as he steps out onto the roof of the Hazbin Hotel. He leans against the wall and lights a cigarette, staring out at the city.

His smile slips ever so slightly as yet another cramp shoots through him.

"Ugh..."

Alastor quickly masks his pained expression as he hears a footstep behind him. He immediately recognizes the click of those heels.

"Hello, Lucifer." He turns to face the King of Hell.

Lucifer raises an eyebrow. "Alastor. I didn't take you for a smoker."

Alastor takes a drag from his cigarette. "Well, I am."

He turns away, wishing Lucifer would just leave him alone. He's in no mood to talk.

He silently curses as Lucifer leans against the wall next to him.

"You look even more tense than normal."

"And you're being even more annoying than normal." Alastor's annoyance is clear in his eyes, despite his unwavering smile. "Would it be too much to ask to be left alone?"

Lucifer raises an eyebrow. He recognizes the discomfort in Alastor's voice.

"Fine, then." He starts to leave, then turns back to say something else... but something catches his eye.

Alastor glances over at Lucifer. "What are you staring at?"

Lucifer clears his throat. "You, uh... got a little something."

Alastor's eyes widen when he realizes where Lucifer is looking. He immediately takes his coat off and ties it around his waist. "Leave me alone."

Lucifer nods and leaves.

Alastor is mortified. He tosses his cigarette and disappears into his shadow, appearing in his room. He goes straight into the bathroom and strips his pants off. His pad is entirely soaked.

"Damn it..."

He quickly fills his sink with cold water and dunks his soiled pants into it. He sprays some hydrogen peroxide on the stain and gently washes it out.

Alastor puts on some clean pants and a fresh pad. He's hanging the wet pants on the shower rod to dry when he hears the door open.

"So this is why you've been so pissy."

Alastor immediately shoves Lucifer out of the bathroom and locks the door. "Get out!"

Lucifer is too caught off guard to fight back. He just stands there, staring at the door.

Alastor leans against the door and sinks down to the ground, feeling humiliated.

---

That night, Alastor curls up in bed, unable to sleep. He's cramping too bad, and the painkillers he took aren't doing anything. He just lays there, in a fetal position, hoping he'll just conk out already.

A knock sounds at the door, and Alastor groans. He gets up, takes a deep breath, puts on a smile, and opens the door.

"Lucifer. I should have known."

Lucifer pushes his way into the room. Alastor simply collapses back down onto the bed, too exhausted to argue.

"Alastor, when are you going to learn to ask for help?" Lucifer sits on the bed next to Alastor.

"...I don't need help. You worry even more than your daughter does."

Lucifer sighs and pulls the blanket off of Alastor's face, revealing his pained expression. "The tears in your eyes tell me otherwise."

It's true, there are tears welling up in Alastor's eyes. He curls up completely, as if trying to hide in himself.

Alastor suddenly feels something being pressed against his abdomen. He flinches slightly, but then he realizes that it's... warm?

"What is this?"

Lucifer sits back down. "A heating pad. It'll help the cramps."

Alastor lays there for a moment, feeling that the heat is indeed helping. He's realizing how caring Lucifer is being, and it makes him feel... safe.

"...thank you."

Lucifer gently rubs Alastor's arm. "I just don't get how someone can be so stubborn that they just suffer in silence."

Alastor weighs his options. Should he trust Lucifer with his feelings?

"...fine. You want to know why I don't trust anyone?" He sits up and looks at Lucifer nervously.

Lucifer nods slightly.

Alastor takes a deep breath. "Do you have any idea how much power I would lose if people knew what I'm really like?"

"Alastor, what are you-"

"I only have power because I'm feared. Do you realize how many people would just look down on me if it came out that I'm a tranny that can't handle a period cramp?" Alastor stops as he realizes he's crying.

Lucifer gently takes his hand. "Take a breath. I'm not going to tell anyone you're trans, okay?"

Alastor hiccups and takes a deep breath, trying to calm down. "Why wouldn't you? Plenty of people would jump at the opportunity to take me down like that."

"Alastor, you should know by now that I'm not like that. Sure, I fight with you a lot, but I'd never out you like that."

Alastor just pulls the blanket back over himself and curls up with the heating pad. The hormones from his period are making him emotional, but he's already overwhelmed by how vulnerable he feels.

Lucifer just sighs. He snaps his fingers, and in his hand appears a blunt.

"Here. This'll help the pain, and call you down."

Alastor looks at it, taking a breath. "...well, alright..."

The two of them share the blunt, and Alastor quickly calms down.

"Thank you, Lucifer... I think I might be able to sleep now."

Lucifer gently tucks Alastor in, pleased that he managed to help him.

"Sleep well, Al."

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endortheline

2 years ago

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endortheline

2 years ago

Whumpril Day 22: "Let's Get You Cleaned Up."

Fandom: Star Wars The Clone Wars

Note: Ah okay so I did my best. Enjoy.

Warning: Minor Character Death

Summary: Rex holds one of his men while they die.

Rex hated losing his brothers. However it was part of the war. It was unfair and cruel but that's why they were made right? To fight and die for the Republic?

The Captain sat with one of his men for the last time. The shiny didn't even have a name yet. However the man's armor was no longer shiny, now it was covered in blood. The blasters and explosions were deafening.

"Captain?" the unnamed clone coughed.

Rex looked down at his feet. There laid one of his men. "Soldier." Rex dropped to the ground. He removed his helmet to get a better look at the man. "Medic!" he yelled. But the request went unheard.

"Captain, I'm scared."

"You'll be okay."

The clone slightly sat up and grabbed Rex by his head, his thumb right before the others ear. "Is this it?"

"No, no it's not. You'll be okay." Tears gathered in his eyes.

Without another word his brother died. His hand slipped from Rex's face, leaving a blood trail. There was nothing he could do. He never got used to it; the blood, the noise, the death. It felt surreal. Rex shakily placed his helmet back on and continued to fight.

Later he would greet Anakin at the end of the fight. The only blood on Rex was his face and hands so the general had no idea anything was wrong. The soldiers helped Kix wherever they could.

Rex took his helmet off for the same reason he had taken off before. Anakin took note and waited till time was right. He walked over to him and said, "Let's get you cleaned up."

"Huh?" Rex looked at him, "no, I'm okay. I'll take care of it."

"No come here." Anakin grabbed his Captain's hand and went to find a damp cloth. Rex protested but gave up as Anakin rested the cloth of his skin. It felt nice.

The Jedi gently held his brother's face still with his other hand. He ran the cloth over the blood and lightly scrubbed it.

Rex just sort of stared at Anakin. It felt nice to have someone take care of him for once. He was so used to taking care of everyone else that this took him by surprise.

"How's that? It stained, there's nothing I could do about that, sorry." Without another word Anakin grabbed Rex's gloves and cleaned his hands next. Then he switched the clones for his. "There. Get some rest, you need it."

Everything together made Rex tear up. It was nice to feel loved and taken care of.

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endortheline

3 years ago

Call of the Sea

Chapter Two - Trust Read on AO3

Summary: Ever since Ashla could remember, she’d dreamed of the sea. Words: 2224 Warnings: near drowning, killing and cleaning of a fish (non-graphic)

**********

Ever since Ashla could remember, she’d dreamed of the sea.

Many of the dreams were lovely; swimming through long kelp fronds, picking up shells from the sandy ocean floor, or simply floating weightless beneath sun-dappled waves. Things she could attribute to trips to the aquarium and vacations taken with her adopted family.

But some dreams were dark and terrifying.

Monsters with glowing eyes reaching for her from lightless depths. Blood staining the water crimson. Unspeakable pain that left her shaking and sweating when she woke.

And a little boy with golden eyes.

Keep reading

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endortheline

3 years ago

https://archiveofourown.org/works/38513596

archiveofourown.org

Curses, Cocoons and Clones - Aliennotperson - Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types [Archive of Our Own]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Another one on ao3!!!!