Hi I've Never Requested Anything From Anyone Ever Before So Here Goes Lmao 😭 Uhh I've Had This Stupid

hi i've never requested anything from anyone ever before so here goes lmao 😭 uhh i've had this stupid little idea for like a week now: motostoke gym trainer reader calls kabu dad on accident. like goes to ask him something and just says "hey dad?" then gets embarrassed and walks away. "nevermind i figured it out myself" no you didn't you liar

uhhh yeah that's it here's payment🍪 cooky

cooky……..

🍓🍓🍓

You were the youngest on the team, that much was obvious. It was hard not to dote, but you would pout and huff and grumble about being treated like a kid, even though you were one. But you were also a gym leader, just like them, able to hold your own even again the more experienced trainers.

Kabu had no doubts you’d grow up into something fierce, even with a primarily fire type team. But he also worried.

It wasn’t as obvious, but you lived for the gym. Sure, you huffed and puffed at the affection and doting, but you never walked away from it.

Kabu knew you craved it, deep down. Despite trying to grow up fast, be independent, be more than what you lacked, he knew you desperately wanted family again. And here you were finding it.

But you’d die before admitting it. A child’s pride was something to be admired, for its steady determination not to break. At the time same time, however, Kabu wished you’d relax, let them take care of you.

You deserved to be a kid, void of weight of the world, if just for a little while. Kabu would hold up the sky for you, if only you’d let him.

But you didn’t. You were his little Atlas, strong and steady, at least on the outside.

For all your pronounced independence, you were still young and inexperienced. The world was still confusing and complicated despite your self sustaining abilities, and when you came to the team, they jumped to help you understand the forms of a gym leader, the conduct to have towards fans and reporters alike, how to deal with sore losers versus disheartened ones.

How to lean on someone when everything becomes too much too fast.

"Hey, um. . ." Your voice drew Kabu from his thoughts. He blinked, watching you shuffle around at the door of his office. "Uh. . ."

Kabu felt his heart grow warm as you struggled to find your words. 'Yes, firefly?"

You huffed. "Dad, do you-"

Your throat seemed to close around your words when Kabu's eyes widened. Everything froze, from his heart to your fidgeting. Kabu wondered, did he hear you right? Did you really see him that way?

"Never mind." You squeaked out before he could even smile. Seemed that flub stole all the air from your lungs. "I figured it out. Bye."

"Hold on!" Kabu called, but you were booking it. Kabu had to run to catch you before you disappeared off into the gym, but he managed to snag your arm before you even made it out of the office area. "Hey, hey-"

Kabu's own voice failed him when he saw your face. Your eyes were glassy, cracking with tears that dripped down your ruddy cheeks. Your shoulders jumped with gasps for air, but you were trying so hard to keep it contained that you were suffocating yourself.

Kabu pulled you into his chest, arms tight. "C'mon, firefly, breathe. Just breathe." You struggled to inhale, choking on a sob. "Shh, shh, you're okay-"

"M'not." You whined.

"Why? Cause you called me your dad?" The weak joke did not land, judging by your increased sobbing, so Kabu was quick to continue. "Everyone has done it, not just you." You buried your face in the crook of your arm to hide it. "And I am honored you think of me like a father."

That gave you pause. "Huh. . ?"

"You've been alone for so long." Kabu carefully brushed back your hair. His thumbs, so calloused and warm, stroked your cheek to clear the sticky tears. "Won't you lean on me?"

You leaned into him more. You were weighed down into his arms, but Kabu easily held you.

He'd hold you until it all felt a little lighter.

🍓🍓🍓

hope you like it!!!

~Renee

More Posts from Kyushinobu and Others

kyushinobu

1 year ago

idk if u still take req, but i've been thinking purge trooper cody hunting child padawan reader who living with obi-wan in tattoine. it's like battle with himself rather than the two jedi, like yk trying to resist inhibitor chip. slight codywan will be cute

ignore this if u don't seems interested, thankuu for all u'r hardwork! i love every single of it!!

Purge trooper Cody on the brain! Did I stray a little from the prompt? Maybe-

“Dead of Night”

Could this be a follow up to this old fic (x) maybe but I’m not sure…

Summary: Cody tracked them down, spotted together were the 2 people that haunted his dreams. He was a good soldier, he had to be

Pairing: purge trooper Cody x GN!padawan reader (PLATONIC)

Warning: guilt hurt/comfort (that’s all I could find really but let me know if I missed any)

Word count: 1256 (not proof read at all)

Notes: I swear I posted this a few days ago, sorry for disappearing

Idk If U Still Take Req, But I've Been Thinking Purge Trooper Cody Hunting Child Padawan Reader Who Living

This armor wasn’t his.

It sat wrong on his lean frame, heavier than the one before. Cody shook his shoulder out before slipping the dark helmet onto his head.

He missed his sunshine armor from so long ago.

If he thought ever so hard Cody could almost hear the faint laugh of once before while painting the sun burst on his armor.

These thoughts never seemed to stick around.

A blaster still hung at his hip accompanied by the unfamiliar weight of the eltro-shock staff many of the purge troopers use.

Unethical. Cody thought stomping down the halls the to docked ship waiting to take him away. The weight and feeling of said weapon made him sick.

The ship rustled under his feet during take off, so caught up in his thoughts the dread of this mission sank into his bones.

The sun never seemed more dull.

•••

Sand was everywhere. The sun radiated heat over the barren lands where a small house was situated. If you could even call it that.

Watching the twin suns set for the one-millionth time seemed always new and different. The warm colors filled your eyes and cover your skin in a honey color.

A chest plate was clutched in your lap. The names started to fade ever so slightly, but with the many times you’ve read over them the order was engraved in your memory.

As the suns took its last peak over the horizon before finally submitting to the darkness that bled into the cloudless sky, you spoke softly names names that were painted into the backside of the chest plate.

Starting with the familiar signature of your master and the commanders closely under his, ending with Trapper and the small name of Rex’s tucked into the corner.

From the front of the shelter you heard the calls from your master. The urgency in his voice made your blood run cold and to discard the piece of armor off to the side.

“Y/N” Obi-wan said once again as you stoped near his side, a comm was clutched tightly in his hand.

You nodded your head slightly in acknowledgement waiting for him to say something else.

“Comms and intel found an emperial shuttle inbound.” His tone was even and cold as it has been the entire time on this desolate planet.

“Is this worrisome?” The word master almost slipped past your teeth as you fought long and hard to break the habit for safety reasons.

With a sigh Obi-wan answered. “Not necessarily, it looks like it’s going to land near the town the check things out there.” He turned fully to you now placing a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“There’s nothing to worry too much about young one, but the village will be off limits until they leave.”

A weight was slightly lifted off your chest with his somewhat reassuring words. The slight shake in your hands were present while you patted your old masters arm.

This wasn’t easy on either of you. It never will be.

The brisk wind of the night rattled through your bones jolting you awake. It was new that it wasn’t a nightmare this time and for that you were thankful.

The soft shuffle of Obi-wan under a shear blanket was the only other noise you could hear besides your own breaths.

You knew he was a soft sleeper, now more than ever. But something deep within, long since been buried reignited.

A pull of something through the force while you tried to be rid of it never it truly seemed to be gone for long.

In the distance a small flicker of a light danced along the horizon. If it was a flashlight of some sorts it would imply that the holder was running.

The feeling again bubbled in your chest as you took a few steps out on the soft sand. One look over your shoulder showed your master still resting.

You couldn’t turn now. Whatever force god was watching over you wouldn’t allow it. The existence of fate was a touchy subject.

Strong winds continued to try and knock you down while you persisted through to whoever was on their way

Calls of your name was lost to the breeze in the dead of night. Oblivious of the man that followed you continued forward.

You stoped dead in your tracks while the figure approached further. The force surrounding this individual was sweet and familiar, normally lighting up your face with a smile.

Normally.

Something else, more complex and darker seemed to look around the edges but not close enough to deter you.

The man shook slightly from the spot that he watched from. You watched the twitchy movements as a hand flew too his blaster, but never touching it.

Instead another hand slowly reached for the dark helmet that masked him from you.

A ghost stood in front of you. Once you never thought you’d see again. The great maker above was clearly playing a sick twisted joke on you.

His name could barely form on you lips while taking a few steps back from the man you never thought you’d see again. The one that along with his brothers betrayed you.

You felt a shuffle to your side; the words “Drop your weapons’ rang out through the night from your master.

A blaster of his own didn’t shake. Stepping in front of you the sight of the man in front of you made your master take another look as well.

Obeying he threw the blaster that seemed to stick closer to him than any other trooper he started working with, and the foreign weapon that he didn’t want to be associated with anymore.

Dropping his helmet as well Cody fell to one of his knees, a hand came a cradled the side of his head.

Both you and your master were frozen where you stood. The cloudy eyes of yours tore through every defense that Obi-wan tried so hard to put up.

Through the wind the quiet cries blew to your ears. Your Cody was hurting; in more ways than one.

“Master” you almost begged as you both took a step forward.

Obi-wan tried so hard to keep the people in his life safe. Sabine, Anakin, Cody, and now you. Every buzzer in his mind was ringing saying this was a trap. That he should take you and run.

He was at the purge troopers side in a moment. Obi-wan’s strong embraced engulfed Cody and the weight crashed into him.

For months now this was all that he wanted.

Everything to be drowned out.

“Oh my love.” Was whispered slightly into his ear, Cody was quick to wrap his arms protectively around his general. The one that wasn’t going to get away again.

Cody’s cries became louder while another body wrapped around his shaking form. Weapons and enemies forgotten Cody let down all his walls and the floodgates opened.

“My head hurts.” Was the only thing Cody could get past his teeth and oh boy was it true. His own mind seemed to turn against him, to scream at him that he shouldn’t be doing this.

Good soldiers follow orders.

But even better ones protect those who stand besides them.

“We’ve got you now Cody.” Your voice flooded his ears, blocking out the screams of yours that haunted his every moment. “We can help you.”

Masked by the dead of night only tomorrow would they realized that another soldier went AWOL.

_____________________________________

Taglist: @arctrooper69 @thereforepizza @padawancat97 @pb-jellybeans @floffytofu @verybadatwriting @solstraalaa @ray-rook @ct-0113

Silco's Enforcer Child

...

Chapter One

Swirling your brush in a cup the clinking sound echoes in the open space, reminding you of the click of a gun. The once red color in the cup turned a murky violet. A dark dusk of sorts. Your head spun as you tried not to focus on the color, fire filling your vision before it disappeared as you pulled your paintbrush back and dipped it in a soothing blue, some light green tipped on the now wet brush end.

Staring at a picture of a blurry silhouette with sharp clothes you hum wondering what color eyes they had. As you stir new shades and tints on your pallet you imagine what the person's nose shape was like. If their mouth was big or small. Where they belonged in the jumble that was your brain and the locked past it held. The fish swimming around the person's head was a stylistic choice but as you mixed the blue and green you wondered if there was more to it. If the person enjoyed the aquatic creatures or perhaps lived near the river edge?

"(Y/N)." Not looking up from your latest artwork as Caitlyn walked in you frowned, taking a step back to try and piece it all together. The last light of the day leaked through the giant studio windows giving your work a golden halo, putting it in a new perspective. Studying the edges and the details you'd painted they became blurry with the sunlight. Clutching your pallet knife you tilt your head, this piece had less detail on the person than your other ones. However, the colors were bolder and more defined with sharper lines. The background was the emphasis but for once you felt like you actually knew what this person looked like. You just weren't able to paint it yet, not fully committed to the details.

How strange that you remembered this outfit so clearly, having drawn it a million times but not the features of the person who wore it. Mixing a different color on your pallet without looking down you purse your lips trying to concentrate as you add something else to the background. You could faintly remember sea blue. Maybe a soft gray or green. A lighthouse or the ocean perhaps? Is that why you added the fish?

Whoever he was, he was important as this wasn't the first portrait you'd done of him. He was a lanky man in a red and black suit with a white dress shirt. The background was a blur of grays and greens with purple brush strokes that looked like fish but maybe smoke if you squinted. The whole picture was odd. Staring at it too long made your head hurt because it felt strangely familiar. He was important to you. Whoever he was. Just another piece of the puzzle that was your past.

"You know usually I'm the one obsessing." She states referring to her yellow tape and red thread board back home. "Come now you can't wear your smock to the art show tonight." Caitlyn scolds as she places a nice outfit down on the cleared part of your glass art desk. You shook your head in response tsking softly.

That was a risky move given the fact paint somehow always got on your clothes no matter what you did in this room. Briefly glancing at the ensemble you wonder if she was trying to ruin the clothes to make an excuse to skip the event, whatever it was tonight.

As the natural light began to fade the painting no longer glowing, you signed placing your brushes and pallet down. The blank face of the man you were trying to paint wasn't going to get any more detail any time soon. Though you guessed that's just how it worked. Reaching out wishing you could pull the man out of the painting, ask him all your burning questions, you paused not wanting to touch the wet paint.

He wouldn't be able to answer you anyways. Bits and pieces, never the whole picture. Always searching and wanting for more. Insatiable…

"(Y/N)." Caitlyn states again as she tries to gain your attention but your focus was elsewhere, lost in this room and your work. Taking a deep breath to try and gather yourself for whatever she was going to say next, you could feel a headache coming on and you didn't like it. Rubbing at your temples you hum indicating you want her to continue but she remains quiet waiting for you to speak.

Rolling your eyes before staring at your painting as your hands touch the glass of your art desk behind you, you try and ground yourself. To bring yourself back to a safe space. Instead you think of your endless collages, or the box of failed faces. As one hand came to press against your forehead pushing your hair back and giving you some clarity you spared a glance at said box which you'd pushed into the corner out of frustration. Another recently failed project. You'd tried placing different details from different paintings and projects together, overlapping them over one another to try and get a full person. They always came out looking horrid. Like some kind of twisted nightmare rather than a real person from a memory. Very occasionally you'd get a full face but mostly you had slightly warped portraits or very blurred places. Nothing solid if it was anything before you came to Piltover.

As your fingers touched the box observing the torn pieces of canvas and failed attempts you realized you'd crossed the room without noticing. Humming you paused, wandering if you should worry about that. About to sass Caitlyn, your words suddenly die on your tongue as your eye catches something. One of your shredded pieces that had bright pink and blue. Your hand shook as your thumb grazed the ungesssoed canvas and faintly you heard distant laughter. Echoing in an alley.

"Art… Art show?" You finally question Caitlyn, composing yourself as you let your hands fall to your sides so you could steady them and let her untie your messy smock. As you let go of the canvas and stepped back from the box slowly your mind was getting out of painting mode. You began to relax as you focused on your friend and what she was saying rather than your lost memories. The woman in question groans in exasperation before pinching her nose as she steps back letting you shrug off the apron. Noticing she's in her enforcer uniform and not a dress for what you assume is a galle event you smile and shake your head as she takes the apron from you hanging it up on its hook with the others. Stepping towards your curtains as she does that, you close them before the room's timer goes off and gas powered light fills the space with an artificial glow.

Only gone a minute and you already missed the sunlight.

"Honestly I thought I was the obsessed one. Your dad rented out the gallery again," She informs you like a mother scolding a child who forgot something important. Needing to do something not able to sit still as you come out of your trance state she begins walking around the room cleaning up things in the messy space as she tries to get you ready to go. Scraping paint off pallets and dumping them into soapy water to soak you watch with an amused smile as she places your brushes on the counter to be cleaned later. She paces nervously fidgeting with one of your brushes before turning towards you looking worried. Her Violet eyes seeming unsure.."... Don't you remember? He's showing your work tonight. He's been talking about it all week." Caitlyn states before she pushes off whatever emotions she was feeling as she crossed her arms. You briefly remember that conversation but was that really tonight? The week had been a blur of research and projects and events, flashing cameras and reporters all over the campus as you tried to study and work. There was barely a moment's rest to yourself until you locked the door to your art studio for some peace and quiet. Groaning as you pinch your nose and clench your eyes you wish one of your maids had reminded you but with how distracted you'd been lately maybe they had.

Swallowing you looked towards a vase in the room. Flowers your father had dropped off while you were deep in thought and surrounded by your artwork. Thinking back you couldn't remember the conversation but logically it was likely about the gallery. Pulling at your hair out of habit you hummed, you really were a mess as of late. With the anniversary of you being found soon you guessed that made sense. Your thoughts and feelings all being in disarray, your "spells" being worse than usual.

Staring at the water cup with the swirling purple you see the smoke again, you taste the gun powder. Thinking back that was one of your more clear memories, the first you were sure was true. Blinking you were back on that bridge again. The smoke making you choke before the rush of clear air as your dad's heavy enforcer mask settled over your face. You could feel yourself being small, feel his uniform as he pressed you into his shoulder and took you home. The question had been deeply ingrained in you for so long but you still didn't know the answer; What were you doing on that bridge?

Closing your eyes not wanting to think of that right now you took another deep breath to steady yourself. You didn't want to spiral.

"That's tonight?" You ask not sure how you forgot as you begin to take off your shirt to change. Caitlyn's face goes red and she turns away from you before tapping her foot angrily. The sound bounces around in your head and something about this feels familiar in a way you can't quite explain.

Sharp blue eyes on a stern face and crossed arms come to mind as a black boot taps impatiently away but the flash is gone as soon as it comes. Touching your desk feeling cool glass under your fingertips you swallowed. Did you take your meds today, your headaches were worse than usual, these flashes more frequent… your therapist warned the incoming anniversary of you being found could trigger some repressed memories but this felt excessive. You'd been doing so well.

"Yes, now hurry up and get dressed! I'm your escort and bodyguard tonight. Marcus tried to put me outside but I didn't want to miss anything. Just..." She hesitates and you smile softly as you put on the white shirt with the looped gold collar. The golden hoop of the white dress shirt hung heavy around your neck as it looped and clicked behind your shoulders but sliding the black slacks on you admit Caitlyn chose well, never one for fashion didn't mean she didn't have a good eye. You'd be lost without her in more ways than one. Slipping on a dress jacket that was your favorite color you hum glancing at the wall of mirrors in your studio. Doing a little spin watching seven you's spin back in response you nod to yourself.

"Just in case." You finish her thought for her as you smooth out the shirt and jacket with a blank face. Seeing your reflection she sighs and you hum smiling as you keep adjusting your clothes to look presentable. Your headaches had been at an all time low before today and despite your forgetfulness and the dreaded upcoming date you felt confident. I mean your skull was pounding and the flashes were more frequent but you knew you could handle the gala tonight, you had done it before with way worse pain and you didn't want anyone to think something was wrong.

You were fine, everything was fine…

"Just please tell me you didn't forget! I couldn't get off duty tonight to attend as a guest. To schedule myself at your gala as a guard I had to take a double shift at work and to be your personal escort and guard that was a whole nother mountain of paperwork and personal favors. A lot of enforcers like your work ya know, and all the new guards want to meet you. I mean you are your father's child. Everyone wants to show their support. Or get… favors." She states matter of factly with slight distaste making you chuckle. The both of you were no stranger to your families status and the luxuries that came with your last names.

"Right, my hero." You hum a teasing smile on your lips as you watch your friend rant getting out her emotions about these type of events and what people really wanted from them. They were meant to help people and yet help was often the last thing on people's minds unless it was them getting it. You had to admit as she lectured the wall she was cute. Her overprotectiveness always made you feel special and even as her new job as an Enforcer you were always on her mind. Maybe not in the same way as before but you could accept that. As you adjust your jacket, sticking your hands into the pocket, you send her a playful smirk.. "Oh and you do know escort has a double meaning, correct Caitlyn darling?" You ask in a sultry voice wanting to tease her hoping it'll loosen her up a bit. She turns and staring at her, her violet eyes scan your form. Puffing out her cheeks embarrassed as she understands what you mean you walk out of the studio with her following close behind.

You catch her smile in the corner of your eye but say nothing simply walking outside into the hallway and through the large manor to the awaiting carriage outside.

~~~

The ride had been quiet the last few minutes. You'd joked about opening a bottle of champagne to celebrate but Caitlyn gently informed you she couldn't drink tonight and you didn't want to be sipping alone. A rock had formed in your throat and as you fidgeted with your hands every jolt of the carriage put you on edge. What had started as a fun ride was slowly turning into your worst nightmare as the Galla got closer.

Caitlyn these last couple months had gone from your closest friend to your body guard, one of her most frequent Enforcer jobs being to watch you. As work and friendship crossed you were unsure where your new relationship stood. If you were just overthinking and if it had changed at all.

As the carriage stops suddenly you hum feeling your stomach doing flips. Adjusting your accessories and clothes nervously, you close your eyes feeling the pulsing behind your eyes worsen. The thought that you could claw your temples open to feel some relief crosses your mind but you stay silent not voicing that thought. Caitlyn frowns noticing your unsteady state before she takes your hands into her own.

Eyes snapping to look at hers at the surprise contact her thumb brushes the back of your palm. "You're not looking very well. If you're not up for it we can turn around. Say you got sick…" She suggests softly before looking towards the curtain separating you from the driver. Staying quiet not wanting to be teased, one of her hands goes to your cheek and leaning into her hold you close your eyes taking a deep breath. What a nice thought…

"I'm just tired. I'll be fine after some wine." You joke before sighing deeply as she just stares at you waiting for the truth. You shift in the plush seats and just breathe. These events could be fun or cumbersome, tonight seemed to be the later. Shifting the curtains when you no longer feel bumps you realize you'd arrived. As you watch cameras flash, high society people get their pictures taken before entering the galla. You were no stranger to being in the spotlight and yet you felt you never quite belonged there. Your art told a story, your story. And you weren't sure if you wanted to share it. Especially since you barely knew your story yourself. You don't remember how the Gallas started, only that once your first piece was put up it hadn't stopped since.

A prodigy some called you. An imposter you told yourself.

"I-" She starts but your hand is already on the carriage handle before you lose the nerve. Twisting and pushing it open light floods your eyes as your regular driver waits outside for you. Voices surround you and you feel woozy as you're transported to a different place with different sounds. Your driver bows, snapping you back before holding out his hand. Feeling disorientated you reach out, your touch going from cold metal to warm leather. As he grips your hand firmly your eyes widen. Stepping down from the carriage into his hold you get a memory of someone holding your hand as you hop down from a curb. A man in a red and black suit…

As people chatter away excited to get a glimpse of you, reporters ask questions as cameras flash. The drivers grip remains and each step down the carriage steps contains a different image but right as your about to get the whole picture, the flashes are over in an instant. Just like the camera shutters around you.

As you stand there eyes wide in surprise, Caitlyn puts her hand to your back shocking you. You snap out of it, grounded by her touch and knowing smile before you begin to walk forwards at her silent instruction. Waving at reporters from famous newspapers you act normal. Enforcers nod keeping the crowd contained but the familiar faces do nothing to soothe your feelings.

Standing tall you walk forward with practiced elegance, reminding yourself you only need to make it to the entrance. As journalists fire off their usual questions about your outfit, your art, and if you've had any recent episodes you smile and wave not answering any of them. Caitlyn stands close as she follows you, her hand pressed firmly against your back and soon you stand in front of two polished doors. The enforcers on either side glare at Caitlyn before smiling at you as they bow and let you both inside. You don't miss Caitlyn's frown but it's gone as quick as it comes, similar to your flashes.

Unable to dwell on it, you walk through the open entrance and into the large art gallery. As you hear the familiar click of the heavy doors behind you, the light changes as you go from outside to inside. Your familiar work hangs from every wall in the space and you know every guest in this room.

Breathing heavily Caitlyn opens her mouth to say something but decides against it. You're grateful, only needing a minute from her. Leaning down and closing your eyes you hum, taking a deep breath before you nod and compose yourself.

Observing the space you took comfort in seeing your work. Some of the pieces are projected as holograms lighting up the room, while others are sculptures scattered about, and elsewhere are large oil paintings and mixed medium collages. Letting out a deep breath you didn't know you were holding you let yourself relax. While the night isn't over it feels safer surrounded by things you understand. With Caitlyn's hand moving from your back to more comfortably settle on your shoulder you nod at her feeling the episode pass.

A real smile begins to overtake your face as you take in all your old work. Your father was good at asking before picking some of your pieces to sell and getting his friend who owned the gallery to hang and price them. While some were harder to give up then others you always said yes putting all the money you made towards the Undercity and the relief effort you'd started there. The orphanage and jail always appreciating your efforts. It wasn't much compared to what else you could be doing but your father liked to organize these for you to give you some peace of mind about the UnderCity and its limited resources. You know he'd much prefer you'd paint full time and let him handle the charity affairs. He didn't want you going into any dangerous job options like Caitlyn and him had.

"A full house tonight. You never cease to impress." Caitlyn states as she bumps your shoulder. Nodding as you come out of your haze, seeing a lot of familiar faces and some new ones in the corner of your eye you watch as people mingle and talk about your art. Trays stacked high with hor de vours and various selections of alcohol pass making the guests smile and laugh as they took their fill.

Searching the room you get a wide smile on your face as you see Jayce and Victor standing off to the side. They're looking at one your father insisted on displaying so he could buy it and support your cause. Running towards them you hug Viktor before he can respond. He stumbles back leg nearly buckling but hugs you back with the same enthusiasm you do him. His laugh lightens your mood as Jayce helps support his fellow inventor and you hum as he squeezes you tight. Jayce joins the hug with his own laugh before he takes you from Viktor and picks you up spinning you around.

"Show off." Viktor teases as he taps his cane against Jayces leg. Jayce simply snorts and puts you down much to the amusement of onlooking guests. He ruffles your hair before doing the same to Viktor with that same hearty smile. Caitlyn, while seeming unamused, has the tinest smile on her lips at your childish behavior.

"Look at you. You're a regular Divinchi." Jayce compliments before he wraps an arm around your shoulder and gestures to your work. Feeling your cheeks darken you lean against him happy he could make it with his busy schedule. He chuckles at your flustered expression and tucks some stray hair behind your ear as you smile up at him.

"Often insanity and creativity walk hand in hand I admit. Though Divinchi is a high title to live up to." You respond making him shake his head. His chocolate eyes shine as he squeezes you close.

"And a poet too. Viktor look at our little idealist, they're all grown up now." Viktor rolls his eyes at Jayces antics before he stares at you. Shifting his cane to be center he leans slightly forward and nods agreeing.

"You my dear have many talents. I envy them all." He says genuinely tilting his head towards the piece they'd been looking at. Staring at it you smile, the portrait of you and your father making you happy. You'd wanted to gift it to him but he wanted to support you, so here it hung with his bid already placed. A man who's actions spoke louder than any words he'd ever said.

"Oh." You state eyes widening as you notice a large canvas with the school painted on it next to your family portrait. "Is Heimerdinger here?" You question, suddenly curious about your teacher and the oldest council member. You had no idea why they came to these things but the council members always stopped by to show their support, ever since your first galla. It was only kind of you to return the gesture by thanking them for coming and catching up. Even if you didn't always want to.

"You know Heimerdinger he's… everywhere." Caitlyn lets out a snort at Jayces unhelpful comment and Jayce flicks her hats feather in response. As they begin to argue you turn to nod your head at Viktor before you slip off into the crowd to find the council members and maybe your father.

Grabbing a glass of champagne as it passes the waiter nods his head at you before he goes to service other guests. Smiling as you sip at the bubbly liquid your eyes scan the space looking for various people to say hi too.

Catching a glint of metal from across the room you pause turning your head to get a better look. Spotting Marcus you smile before waving at him, holding up your champagne to toast. His associates all have wine glasses but his hands are suspiciously empty. As he nods his head at you politely holding up his hand to give a small wave you chuckle gesturing for him to come over. He shakes his head no and waves his hand away gesturing for you to go back to your friends. Humming you take a step closer noticing he's with an odd crowd. One you haven't seen at your galas before.

Beginning to walk towards them to see what they're all looking at you pause before pushing that feeling of suspicion away. As you stop shoes no longer clicking against the tile you swallow. Caitlyn told you to have fun and the night was young, you couldn't be focusing on your delusions now. Blowing him a little kiss he shakes his head and taps his chest on the opposite side of his badge, gesturing to you that he received the kiss and was keeping it safe. An old and bit odd inside joke. But one you refused to let go of regardless. You wave before turning to disappear into the crowd. Taking another sip of champagne you do your best not to feel anxious as Marcus's strange friends stare a hole into your back.

As a hand grabs your shoulder you quickly turn eyes wide as you get ready for a fight. "You can't just wander off!" Staring at Caitlyn your body unstiffens and you once again relax as you almost finish off your champagne. Just a few hours anyone could do this for a few hours.

"Sorry, just saying hello." You hum much to her displeasure.. Smiling softly as she relaxes you once again sip at your drink trying to soothe your rattled nerves. Nothing was wrong, you needed to calm down. You could do this.

Wandering around with Caitlyn looking for various people you pause as you reach a quieter part of the galla. Someplace more in the back. Tilting your head in front of a painting with a blue haired girl your eyes trace her face. Caitlyn was usually pretty stiff during her job but she puts her arm on your shoulder leaning on you in a rare moment of loosening up. With no one around to witness this you feel more open then you had in awhile. Short blue hair that frizzed at the end and had odd knick knacks woven and tied into it.

"She's pretty." She says softly and you nod wrist shifting to bubble your second glass of champagne. The liquid swirls as you do the repetitive motion and Caitlyn frowns concerned as she studies your action and face.

"I've been calling her Sapphire." You say suddenly, your eyes flicking up to stare at the faceless girl with blue hair.

"Cause of her hair?" Caitlyn questions and for a second you get a flash of sapphire eyes staring up at you as you braid choppy hair. Laughter ringing lightly in your ears as a girl with pink hair sits close by. She's smiling as you giggle tying trinkets into messy blue locks, giving the girl little braids. Three boys sit in the room observing but not interrupting as they do their own things. A smaller one occasionally handing you little knick knacks that'll sparkle in her hair.

"Yeah something like that." Taking a sip of your drink you frown as it goes down rough and not smooth like the other sips. "Hey you saw Marcus with those people right?" You suddenly question feeling like you knew them from somewhere despite not recognizing their faces. The woman in purple especially catching your attention.

"Marcus is here? He wasn't supposed to come tonight. I guess he made time for you." Caitlyn hummed surprised before she turned towards you. "I know my boss can be suspicious but tonight is about you. Your father wants you to be happy and unlike my parents he really tries. Let's just get through tonight since we already committed before we're back to the red string and endless questions." She suggests and you nod slowly but that feeling in your gut doesn't disappear. As much as you tried to dispel it, it kept creeping in the back of your mind.

As Caitlyn goes to lead you away you pause as a familiar face greets you.

"Your art has come so far. I marvel at your talent and envy all your fans." Mel teases. Caitlyn bows her head in respect and you nod at her. The girl swallows but nods pointing to where she'll be waiting as you chat privately with Mel.

Smiling at the Council woman looking at the work she's observing you hum seeing a large canvas you'd done of her and the Council at a meeting your father had asked you to attend. It was one people had flocked too all night you observed from the bidding stickers but it was just you and Mel looking at it now.

"Mel it's been awhile. We should schedule a painting session together. I miss those." You respond smiling warmly as you settle next to her.

"Yes, well life has been busy as I'm sure your father's told you." Swirling your glass of champagne faster you hum frowning softly. Staring at your reflection in the golden liquid you look back up at the painting. He hadn't. Not lately.

He wanted you away from his work. From him. You and Caitlyn knew something was wrong but as two high Noble society children your concerns were often brushed off and not taken seriously. You were close to something big and yet…

"Dads been quiet about work. You know after all I've worked for and all he's prepared me for he wants me to switch careers. Caitlyn and I may have passed the physical and mental exams with flying colors but he... worries." You murmur quietly as you fidget with your glass. "Caitlin's dad supports her but my dad... he'd prefer I chose to continue my law studies. Or change my schooling altogether and focus on something else." You state solemnly. As much as you loved your father you felt it was unfair. Like there was something bigger that he and everyone else was hiding from you.

"Hextech?" She asks surprised bringing you out of your sprailing thoughts. Smiling at the name Jayce gave his invention, that explosion that kick started everything felt like it happened yesterday. It felt like you were found on the bridge yesterday.

"More medical field I believe but I think he'll take anything other than Enforcer at this point. Even regular old painter." You remark as you observe the details of the meeting you'd chosen to paint.

"And that bothers you?" Mel asks. Tilting your head you squint at the details of the picture in front of you. Such a different piece than your other ones which were blurry and indistinct. And yet everyone kept hovering to this one. Easier to understand and more straight forward you supposed. Something from your new life and not your old. They always seemed to prefer that.

"... Mel is something going on I should be worried about? Some kind of civil unrest? The undercity. I've heard rumors and my dads making excuses for me not to go to any of the prisons or my charity anymore. I have friends there. People I'm trying to help. I need to know the truth. You need to tell me the truth." You state.

The woman remains quiet for a moment. Her brown eyes seem to search for the right words as she sips at her drink slowly. A red wine that seemed too much like blood to you. "Perhaps focusing on work outside your father's would be good. He worries about you. We all do. With your..." She hesitates before waving her hand dismissively trying to change the subject.

"My spells?" You demand and her brows furrow as she glances at you. The silence is all you need for confirmation. Sighing you look away from the Council Meeting and towards a different picture. A silhouette of a man with a halo around his head. You see that blue green color again. You can hear a chuckle. Mel's touch brings you back as she squeezes your shoulder.

"... I've said too much. Please be kind to him. Your father loves you much more than you know. You're very lucky to have him. You know," Mel hesitates, something you've rarely seen her do. As she looks at your painting and you stare into your glass a wistful look crosses her face. "My past is tricky when it comes to family and relationships." She admits in a rare moment of sincerity, no politics, no deals. Just the truth.

Or perhaps it's manipulation. You can never tell with Mel, you do your best not to dwell. You like to think your relationship and mentorship with her is genuine, but in a place like Piltover… you never know.

Nodding you look away from your least favorite piece onto other things. Your eyes stop on a more symbolic painting, an older one. It was crudely done as you hadn't cleaned the edges or made the details fine. Fangs and claws and fur. Oh to be the fox and wolf as Mel often told you.

"... Mingle?" You question and her eyes light up like the fox in your painting sensing your planning something.

"You don't usually enjoy networking." She observes watching you carefully and you shrug before finishing your flute of Champagne in one final swig.

"Feels like a night to try something new." You state waving down a waiter to take your glass so you could grab another.

…

With Mel by your side you'd avaded Caitlyn and most of the Enforcers walking around the party. While you loved having her around having her around as an Enforcer was much harder than having her around as your friend. While you'd tried to stay calm the whole night and not make it into a conspiracy your suspicion grew every time you saw Marcus from the corner of your eye with that group of people. As you inched your way closer throughout the night you glanced around. No one was watching you…

Slipping away from Mel while she was distracted with a council member you kept your head high as you walked with purpose. As you get closer to the odd group, your focus goes to one of the people Marcus is talking to. Your eyes catching on her arm and how it's covered by a pretty velvet cape.

"No you can't talk to them-" Marcus insists, not yet noticing you as you got closer. The lights on this side of the room were dimmer as there were less art pieces. It made your curiosity burn brighter as you wondered what Marcus and this strange clinte were talking about. If they were clinte at all.

"Why are they painting him? Who are they? He's mad Marcus! He wants some serious answers." The woman snaps back angrily. Coming closer and getting more questions than answers the woman notices you staring and shifts to better cover her arm. Her friends stiffen at your presence and adjust their suits and dresses which you notice are more worn than anyone else in the room.

"They're nobody. It's a side hobby, just a thing they sometimes do-" Marcus states and you tilt your head unsure if you should be insulted or not. Was he protecting you from something? From someone?

"Marcus?" You question finally catching his attention as you take in his new friends. He immediately goes pale hearing you call his name and turns to face you. As the woman smirked you could see him getting stressed like you weren't supposed to be here. Squinting you hum as you observe the chief, what was he up to?

"(Y/N)! Why aren't you with Caitlyn?" Marcus demands and you step back at the tone of his voice. The intensity of his question. As the group continues to stare you begin to piece together that they're from the Undercity or at least a lower class section of Piltover.

"She's talking to Jayce. Marcus I need-" You start but he ignores you. Unlike his playful disposition earlier he was being much colder now. As you swallowed something about this whole situation didn't settle right with you. This clearly had nothing to do with your galla.

"I'm sorry this is a private discussion I need you to-" Marcus starts in a much kinder tone trying to direct you away but the woman ignores him. Stepping in front of him to get to you Marcus glares, his fists balling at his sides. She tilts her head observing you before she smirks. Maroon lipstick catching the limited light.

"(Y/N) Right?" The woman was tall, elegant, and walked with authority. Several scars of different sizes littered her face and shoulders. Taking in her physique she seemed like she'd had a harder life. A laborer perhaps?

Her purple slit dress with the black velvet coat stood out amongst the other dresses tonight and you found yourself intrigued. Almost pulled in by her. As you studied each other you could see Marcus gritting his teeth. Knowing you'd walked into a possibly dangerous situation you smiled feigning ignorance.

"Yes, that's my name. I guess you could say this is my Galla." Acting shy at the attention you reach up to fiddle with your jewelry and hair. Something about this woman seemed familiar. Maybe it was her voice or maybe it was her face but you had this odd itch in the back of your brain. Like when you were painting right after a flash.

"I'm Sevika." She introduces before holding out her left hand. Confused, you peaked under her cloak to look at her right only for her to take a step back hiding her arm behind herself. Shaking the left trying not to be bothered by it or ask any questions that could get you in trouble you smiled at her.

"Are you interested in this one?" You hum tilting your head towards the canvas as you try to subtly change the conversation. "I don't know if you know this because I haven't seen you at any of my shows before but my paintings are all for charity." You explain with a smile. "All funds go back to the community. As someone so fortunate I try to give back to those more in need then myself." Sevika paused for a moment before her hand wrapped tightly around yours, her grip firm but not crushing like you'd first expected.

"... I'll keep that in mind." She hums softly. "My boss, he's interested in this one." She explains before letting go and gesturing to the painting they'd been talking In Front of for the past few hours.

"Oh your boss? What do you do?" You ask curiously. It was always the same faces at these Gallas, Sevika didn't seem like an average socialite. She screamed adventure but also safety. You feel like you knew her and that wasn't something you felt often when it came to new faces. While there was a danger with interacting with her that you could sense, she knew more than she let on.

"We work in…" Glancing at Marcus amused she focused back on you, eyes seeming to study your every move. It reminded you of an Enforcer or someone running from one. "Exports." She explains and you nod slowly, not sure if you believe her or not. Looking at the painting when she does you suddenly freeze, familiar blue eyes greeting you.

"My dad wasn't supposed to grab this one." You murmur as you step forward. It was one of your favorites hidden behind a sheet so he wouldn't see, one of the only full faces from your past you'd ever been able to complete. You were working on some fine detailing and had moved it from the safety of your room to the studio. It was a bit fuzzy on the edges still and some of the detailing was blurry because you couldn't seem to decide on things like sharp or round features, smooth or bumpy skin but it was an important piece to you.

"Oh?" Sevika questions and you frown looking at the bid at the bottom. "My boss, he'll pay a small fortune for it. Guaranteed." Sevika swears and you turn towards her.

"They said it wasn't for sale. Can we continue-" Marcus tries to regain control of the conversation but Sevika seemed more interested in you than him. The people also focused on you suddenly ignoring Marcus' presence. She stepped closer leaning in to observe your face. As their eyes focused on yours, really taking you in you noticed the sudden way she stiffened. Like she was seeing a ghost.

"Think of all the people in the UnderCity it could help, that is what you're doing isn't it? Your charity?" Quirking a brow at her surprised, you turn your head suddenly. The intensity of her stare suddenly making you uncomfortable.

"I don't like to announce it because I get less sales which means I can help less but yes… That's true." You admit quietly. Did Marcus tell them that? How did they figure it out? The longer you stayed in this corner the more questions you had.

"So a small fortune to help others is surely worth this painting?" Pausing you think of the deal, of what you would be giving away. Reaching your hand out you tap the bottom of the canvas, tracing the intricate picture frame. Was this some sort of psychological test from your father? Did this even have anything to do with you or were you misinterpreting the entire situation?

Focusing on the painting to remain calm, the ravenette man with blue eyes and sharp features made you feel at ease. Swallowing you hum. You wanted to know more about this woman, about the group with her, and her relationship with Marcus.

"And this bosses name? I'd love to meet the man giving so much to my charity." You offer watching Sevikas' body language closely.

"He doesn't do names." She responds quickly and you nod.

"A picture then?" You question. "It's customary for all customers to take a picture with the piece they're buying." Before she can say no like you assume she will, you grab her hand in another firm handshake and smile wide as a flash fills the dark space. As Sevika blinks in surprise and her friends slink into the shadows you take your chance to leave back to the main party. As the photographer walks away you do the same disappearing into the crowd with stolen film in your hand.

While you had a lot of questions you're sure they could wait until that photo was printed. You think you just found another piece of the puzzle.

...

Taglist: @pinkninja200 @shadow-pancake9 @athenapspspsps @mercenarystrike @strawbebe-dk @joscelyn02 @wanna-plan-world-domination @meep-moop-mystic @ebony-wolf @shadow-pancake9 @zeros-rot @beasalmeh @ihatemylifeuwu @domoron @ackermanbitch @ihatemyselfmorethanmydepression

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kyushinobu

8 months ago

Bongos (but male) | Logan Howlett X [Dilf] Reader

What Logan wouldn't give to have that damn DILF bent over...

Quick Notes : Thank you to our savior @/dorkszn for their glorious Dilf! Reader drabbles! The idea of a Dilf! Reader came directly from their posts, so be sure to give them a follow! Obviously this work is in no way related to their own, and is my own version of Logan and a Dilf! Reader. Please enjoy.

Story Details : 1,300 words, Dilf! Reader referred to as ‘You/Your,’ Reader has twins, Readers children are animal mutants (bear), Readers children are named ‘Jett’ and ‘Hogan,’ Reader is divorced, Reader is about forty to forty-five, Reader is lightly implied to be a mutant, Reader is described as ‘having stubble,’ Logan is whipped for Reader, Logan ogles reader, and finally, sexual implications in almost everything Logan thinks

Though, even he could admit a few of the kids stood out; there was a little red-head, about eight or so, whose mutation was a pair of wings (though they had only started growing in a few years earlier), and a teenage boy who frequently turned invisible to get away with stealing cigarettes (he never did, and Logan was the one to drag him to the professor's office).

Despite working at the school for a few months, Logan was not fond of children. They were loud, frequently interrupted his smoke breaks, and often had mutations that they had little to no control over. In short, it was his personal hell. He only took the job because Chuck had asked him, and as much as he hated to admit it, he owed the man something (even if this job made him want to rip his hair out).

A gruff sigh left the older mutant, who fiddled with the cigar between his teeth as he leaned back against the wall of the hallway. It was getting dark, most students in their rooms and preparing for bed. Except, Logan could smell a few brats out and about, their scent making his nose twitch in disgust; they smelled like shit - like mud and the forest.

His gaze was drawn towards the end of the hall by the sound of giggles - clearly children - and the sound of a heavy sigh soon following. Before Logan could push off to investigate, he blinked in surprise when the source of the noise rounded the corner.

A man - a man he’d never seen but immediately needed to get to know - was carrying two children, one under each arm; You. At the sight of him, you gave him a tired grin, the crows feet on your eyes crinkling as he felt his heart thump against his chest. The mutant didn’t care if he was staring - you were downright sexy. You wore a shirt with the sleeves up past your elbows and a set of slacks that seemed to accentuate every part of your frame. What Logan wouldn’t give to see you bent over a-

“Nice night, ain’t it?” You called out, shaking Logan from his thoughts as he took an inhale from his cigar to clear his mind.

“Could be better,”

He retorted, his eyes drifting to the two squirming mutants in your arms. They looked like you to a tea, their eyes the same color as yours with a nose to match - the only part that was different were the set of rounded ears on the brats heads. Logan guessed bear, but cat might have been it, too. Both the kids groaned, wriggling around as one tried to hit your side,

“Papa, ‘s not fair!” one whined, making your gaze turn downwards as you arched a brow, “Yeah, papa! You never let us out into the trees!” The other added quickly.

Instead of replying right away, Logan watched as you hoisted the two higher into the air and did a small spin, making their complaining turn to squeals of laughter.

“You two can’t go outside without me because you roll in the mud,” You stated lightheartedly, coming to a stop as you affectionately glared at the two children in your arms.

He shifted his focus to the two mutants, raising an eyebrow as he finally noticed the clumps of mud, dirt, and leaves that clung to the two - definitely bear, then. It was then that Logan took a more obvious look at your face, his cigar sitting in his mouth for a moment as he analyzed every little detail; you had stubble, as though you hadn’t shaved in a few days, and eyes that held a clear fondness for the two kids in your arms. His eyes moved downward, glancing at your visible forearms - hairy, but not too much so, with some muscle obvious. Fuck, you were his type.

“You know where I can find a hose? Or a bathtub?”

Your voice pulled him out of his ogling, his gaze returning to your face as he grunted, pulling the cigar out of his mouth and exhaling a cloud of smoke towards the ceiling.

“Med bay has bathtubs, should work for the… mud,”

Logan knew how he came across - mean, gruff, an asshole - but you didn’t seem to pick up on it, simply giving him that same tired smile before nodding and glancing down at your kids.

“Alright, med bay it is! Come on, twerps, bath then bed; I’ve got to get all this mud out of your hair and fur,”

The sound of your chuckle, gruff with age, made a shiver run down the older mutants’ spine.

“You guys new here?” He found himself asking out of curiosity, leaning against the wall again as his eyes raked over your form, “Haven’t seen your kids in any of my classes.”

You paused, shifting the two mutants under your arms before holding them up one at a time,

“This is Hogan.” You raised the child in your right arm, “and this is Jett,” you raised the child in your left arm.

Both children groaned at being named, beginning to squirm once more as they let out soft bear vocalizations - Logan filed that under something he hadn’t expected, but wasn’t surprised by.

“Cute kids,” he stated, taking a long drag of his cigar before his gaze dropped to your legs.

He could’ve sworn he saw one of your pant legs moved at his complement, but he brushed the thought aside as his own imagination, slowly trailing his eyes back up to your face. If you noticed, you didn’t call him out on his staring, instead focusing your attention on your mutant bear cubs with a fond huff,

“Thank you, really. I got custody after their mother divorced me.” You stated it so bluntly that it made Logan nearly drop his cigar, though he quickly recomposed himself as you continued, “They’re my little bear cubs, all fuzzy and cute.”

He watched as you cooed down at your children, a slight smirk tugging at his lips; you loved them, that much was clear.

“Are they the ones who’ve been raiding the school's fridge at night?”

He asked jokingly, watching as your expression turned sheepish.

“That… Is likely my boys, yes,” You said after a moment, adjusting the two bear mutants in your arms before sighing and shaking your head, “They eat like crazy. It’s hard to keep them full without handing them a snack every thirty minutes.”

Hogan seemed insulted at your words, his expression turning into a fierce pout as he crossed his arms and sulked,

“Papa not feed us! We need more food!” Jett immediately knew what his twin was doing and copied the boys’ pose, “Yeah! More food! More food!”

The two bear mutants descended into a chant of ‘more food,’ causing an amused smile to cross your face - Logan wanted to see more than just that. He wondered what you’d look like blushing…

“Well, we can have a snack after you two take a bath,”

You said fondly, rolling your eyes as you began to walk down the hall towards the med bay. Before you walked too far, however, Logan watched as you turned around,

“Got a name, stranger?”

He blinked, his mouth suddenly dry as he focused entirely on your, ahem, assets, which looked downright amazing in those tight slacks. Pulling his gaze away, he grunted, taking a pull from his cigar to try and clear the thoughts running through his mind.

“Logan; Logan Howlett,”

He answered gruffly, finally returning his eyes to you as he caught the friendly smile you sent his way.

“Nice to meet you, Howlett. I figure we’ll be seeing you around,”

With that, you turned and continued towards the med bay, adjusting and joking with the two pouting bear cubs in your arms.

In that moment, Logan realized he wanted you right fucking now. Multiple times, in his bed preferably, with you calling out his name as he-

A gruff and irritated sigh pulled itself free, the mutant glancing down before he adjusted himself and began to walk towards his room. He needed a shower. A cold one.

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kyushinobu

1 year ago

CLONES APPRECIATION WEEK - Day 5: Favorite Quotes ↳ FIVES In The Clone Wars - 4.09: Plan Of Dissent;

CLONES APPRECIATION WEEK - Day 5: Favorite Quotes ↳ FIVES in The Clone Wars - 4.09: Plan Of Dissent; REX in The Clone Wars - 4.10: Carnage Of Krell; HOWZER in The Bad Batch - 1.12: Rescue on Ryloth

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kyushinobu

2 years ago

Heyy could you maybe write another fives x platonic reader your stories are so good I binge read all of them

Wooo I love when I see you all binge reading on my posts!

“Keep your head up”

Read here on ao3: (✩)

Summary: After being rescued from some seppies Fives try’s to help you accept and love your newly acquired scars

Paring: Fives x GN padawan reader (Yes everyone it is PLATONIC)

Warning: Mentions of scars and injuries. Insecurity’s but Fives will make it all better

Word count: 713- and be so proud because I actually proof read

Notes: Don’t worry this is just a hold me over, an appetizer if you will, for a longer fic I plan to write later. Also there could be a part 2 to this with Alpha-17 maybe if your interested

Heyy Could You Maybe Write Another Fives X Platonic Reader Your Stories Are So Good I Binge Read All

He watched as the rest of his brothers started to exit the ship for their quick supply run on the rainy planet of Kamino, however Fives hung back with a quick nod from his general.

Rain pounded all around him as Fives waited for a moment before he saw your figure walking towards him, you made your way over to him a limp still present in your strides.

Fives or Rex normally volunteered to wait for you since it’s been a slow recovery since your last encounter with the separatist. With much begging Anakin finally let you come back with them on this mission.

And so far Fives could safely say that senators were dicks.

“You ok sir?” Fives asked as you came to a stop next to him.

You gave a small ‘Mhm’ as you kept your gaze trained to your boots. You’ve been getting a lot of that lately and you just wished thing were like they use to be.

Fives planted a firm hand on your shoulder making you glance up for a moment, he wouldn’t say anything but he could tell something was up.

His gloved hand traced over the raise red skin on your face, the stitches helped stop the bleeding but it still looked irritated and gnarly.

“I mean did you see what that senator was wearing? He couldn’t even talk.” Fives quietly spoke to you. You let out a small laugh and rolled your eyes.

“He did look stupid.” You thought back to a few hours ago.

Fives was taken aback almost with the searing white flurry of rage he felt in that moment when a senator made a comment about his commander. His vod’ika. About their appearance.

He looked over to where Jesse was stationed next to him, one of his hands were held in tight fists while the other hovered just over his blaster.

Rex took a step closer to you. If looks could kill the senator would be long gone from all of the men present. Fives didn’t need the force to sense that everyone was livid and Anakin was ready to explode.

“What if people are scared, what if those cadets don’t like me?” Your small question brought him back to reality.

Fives let out a small laugh of his own as you looked at him with wide eyes. Oh how he wished he could erase all the doubt from your mind.

“First off kriff what they think.” Fives brought your face into his hands being carful not to hurt you. His tone became serious and you listened closely.

“Second of all do you know how much respect you’ll get from all those men in there? You saved some of their brothers by getting those scars and your not a shiny nat-born now. Alpha-17 is going to go crazy because that’s what he wants to see in the brothers he trains.” Fives smiled at you as he wiped a tear.

“And it makes you look like a total badass.” He added

You laughed now wiping your eyes with the sleeve of your robe. The pair started to walk off of the ship and through the hanger.

“You think so?” You still spoke unsure.

“Oh of course, I mean you look way more intimidating now. Kinda like Wolffe.” Fives thought about his older brother and commander for the 104th. A shiver shot down his spine.

“I do don’t I.” You looked up to Fives with a smile on your face, a smile he hasn’t seen since the days before that mission. It felt like lifetime ago.

“Just keep your head up.” Fives lightly tapped the underside of your chin. “Everyone’s going to be blown away. Your one of the most skilled people I know. And if they are hooked up on this,” He gestured. “Then clearly they aren’t looking hard enough at you.”

You and Fives walked side by side into the stark white halls of Kamino. The pride he felt for you was through the roof, the familiar bounce in your step returned as met up with the others.

You knew you had Fives and all the other men to make sure you were all right. A personal posse of hype-men at your deposal, and you were forever grateful.

_____________________________________

@arctrooper69 @thereforepizza @padawancat97 @pb-jellybeans @floffytofu