Sometimes I think about how Kix had a near mental breakdown in Umbara due to the stress of trying to keep his brothers alive, only to realise he can't do anything to save them.
I also think about how we saw Rex collapse in near tears after he realises Krell tricked the clones into killing each other, just because he could. How, after Umbara, his next destination was Kadavo...
I think about how Dogma went against his own beliefs due to betrayal, and subsequently went into a state of shock because of the weight of the situation he suddenly found himself in. How Rex nodding at him in approval and respect was likely the last kindness anyone ever extended to him.
I think of Slick acting out violently against both Jedi and clones alike, working into the hands of the Separatists because he didn't feel like there was any other escape against the chains he suddenly saw around his neck and wrists.
I think about how Fives struggled uselessly against circumstances well outside his control when it came to protecting his brothers from certain doom, knowing fully well that he had very likely never gotten over the loss of Echo, and that he'd taken it upon himself to be a protector at the expense of his own relatively short life.
I think of Jesse in the aftermath of Maul's invasive mind probing, of how weak and vulnerable he sounded when talking to Rex because he felt like a failure in that very moment. How he was struggling against the chip when Rex was practically begging him to spare Ahsoka and that maybe, just maybe, had he not been captured by Maul his mental shields would have been strong enough to resist like his captain had...
I think of how Echo who was blown up, tortured, abused, left to look like a shell of his former self that he barely recognises, and who's struggling but pushing forward despite having lost almost everything and everyone he once knew and loved. How it's very likely that he'll eventually die never coming to terms with what happened to himself, and that he'll always feel like less than a man because it's how others treat him.
I think of Wolffe, years after Order 66, struggling with intense fear, guilt, and paranoia, trying to keep his only remaining family safe and accidentally hurting them and others in the process, because he's stuck living in a past that's yet to be explored but that we can assume is crushing him. Wolffe who is, without a doubt, a shadow of the former commander that had served proudly besides his Jedi. Who had always been and always will be a survivor of terrible things.
I think of Gregor who's suffered head injuries at least thrice, got blown up and been left with mental health issues, and who was still very willing to extend his aid and kindness to those around him because he took what he got and accepted it with a smile and a defiant spark to the very end...
I think about all these and more. And it makes me wish the clones had had better than what they ended up with...
Word Count: 3k
Pairing: Delta x afab!OC (eventually)
Warnings: Canon-typical violence, swearing, English is not Basic, wrong terminology used on purpose
Summary: Lennox didn’t think that making headway in communicating would be this quick, but at least she didn’t have to play the world’s worst game of pictionary and charades to do it. And perhaps she could make a new friend too while she’s at it.
(Since Lennox is going to be learning Basic, starting this chapter and from now on:
English will be bold
Basic will be like normal.)
[Prev] // [Next]
The food in front of her was questionable at best, and reminded Lennox terribly of high school lunches. Except worse, somehow. She sniffed the piece of meat on her fork hesitantly, but her companions didn’t even pause before digging in. Which was good in that it was eatable, but that said nothing to taste, or lack thereof, when she finally took a bite.
She chewed slowly, all the while wondering how something that was covered in sauce could still be so bland. Not that she cared too much at the moment, seeing as how she hadn’t eaten since before all the bullshit yesterday. She didn’t even notice how hungry she was until she got out of bed and was practically assaulted by her growling stomach.
She could deal with a tasteless square meat patty if it meant getting something in her.
Her companions talked, but they were half drowned out by the rest of the chatter in the mess hall. They ignored her for the most part, which left ample time for her to get lost in her thoughts.
This morning was… Well, she was doing better than when she woke up. The embarrassment of Orange walking in on her crying yet again while standing in front of one of the sink mirrors was finally wearing off, at least.
In retrospect, putting on her clean, but now heavily blood-stained, clothes from yesterday wasn’t her best idea. She had spent ages scrubbing them in the sink and left them out to dry last night, so she didn’t think about it when she changed out of the red pajamas. The trigger of it lingered in her mind as she absentmindedly rubbed at her collar. There was no forgetting it, but maybe she could move past it and be able to wear these clothes after today? Or would she have to find all new clothes wear?
She didn’t have a lot of options for the latter, though. It was either wearing the red pajamas she slept in or changing into the black underclothes that were also in her footlocker. Both of which were too big for her, and it felt wrong to assume she could use them. Not that anyone tried to stop her when she wore them last night, but still.
It was a complicated line of reasoning in her head that she knew didn’t quite make sense, but it was all she had. What she really needed to do was set aside some time to un-compartmentalize everything and sort it out for herself.
Her fork scraped the last of the mystery meat into her mouth as she thought. Bland it may have been, but it was surprisingly filling too. A quick glance over at everyone else had her relaxing. They were also just finishing up their food, so she didn’t feel weird about eating too fast and having to wait for them.
Which was just as well because they got up not long after, and she followed them like she had been since they found her, feeling remarkably like a duckling. She supposed that made them the mother ducks for the time being. It made her smile to herself behind all of them, and she decided it would never be spoken aloud for the sake of her person. Though to prove her point, once they dumped their trays, they lead her down hallway after twisting hallway, passing more people now and then. And just like before, she still had no hope of remembering her way around, even with a clearer head. She needed a map. Or they needed to put up signs.
They arrived at their destination a few minutes later, which was nothing more than a meeting room with a large table, and what looked like another one of those hologram tables. Green pointed at her and then to the table, so she sat at the end of it. Whether she chose that seat because it was the closest to her or the door remained to be seen. She expected them to follow, but they either leaned against the smaller table or the wall.
It was exceedingly normal, and she was thankful for it.
Her head snapped to the door when a new man came, and she watched as he spoke quietly to Orange before he, surprisingly, stepped over to her. She tiled her head in question, and he handed her a large, clunky looking tablet. When she glanced at the screen everything was written in the strange new alphabet she had seen everywhere.
Lennox handed it back to him while shaking her head, the only way she could convey that she couldn’t read it. She thought for a second and then used her hands to mime writing. Maybe they could get somewhere if they knew what her alphabet looked like too, but she didn’t hold out much hope. The two couldn’t have been more different.
The guy nodded at her poor miming skills and walked away to rifle through a cabinet before coming back with a clipboard, a few blank pieces of paper, and a pencil.
Lennox’s brain stalled once she had it in hand. What could she write that anyone would understand? The last time she learned a new language was in high school; there was no way she could remember how it started out. She went through half a dozen phrases before she decided on what really should have been her first idea. It was obvious as she wrote it out in her best handwriting.
“My name is Lennox Cahill.” She flipped the board around and moved her finger to each word as she spoke. She pointed at her name again and then at herself. “Lennox.”
A smile crept up the man’s face as he took the clipboard from her and started writing. There was a neat line of characters under hers when he flipped it back, and he guided his finger along while he talked the same way she had.
“My name is Besh.” He pointed to his face, grinning. “Besh.”
“Besh,” she sounded the word out carefully and perked up at his enthusiastic nod.
She took the clipboard back and tilted her head, flicking the pencil between her fingers while she thought. There were repeating characters in Besh’s line, in the same places that her line had in English, and there seemed to be the same number of letters per word. For the first three words at least, before their names. Maybe it was a coincidence, but maybe it wasn’t.
There was only one way to find out. She removed the first paper and started writing out her alphabet on a new sheet, making sure to do capital and lowercase letters, and added numbers down at the bottom to cover all her bases. Then she looked back to her greeting and started matching up her letters to theirs, the unfamiliar characters looking a little wonky in her handwriting. Seven letters didn’t give them much, but it was better than nothing as a starting point.
Besh made a sound in the back of his throat when she showed him. His eyes scanned the page, and he was quick to take the pencil from her and start scribbling, showing her what he had done.
Lennox made the same surprised sound. “There’s no way it’s that easy.”
Every single empty space had been filled in; new characters matched up to hers succinctly. Even his numbers looked like stylized versions of her own. She pulled the first paper back to her and wrote down her thought using the new alphabet.
Besh laughed when he read it. Lennox offered the pencil back to him with a small smile, happy that she could finally communicate in some form. She would have to work on memorizing their alphabet, and then figure out how to speak their language too.
“Evidentially it is,” Besh said jovially, showing a neat line of English.
Lennox was baffled. How the hell was his English handwriting better than hers? That wasn’t fair!
She glanced over to her companions, who had been waiting silently the whole time, but quickly looked back to her page when she managed to somehow make eye contact with every single one of them in what felt like half a second. It was a bit awkward.
She constructed her next two sentences carefully, copying the letters as neatly as she could.
When she was done she got up and walked over to the others. Orange stepped forward, and she was getting the feeling that he was the leader of their group; everyone always talked to him first.
She handed the clipboard to him. “Thank you for keeping me alive.” She glanced at Yellow. “And for giving me a gun.”
Orange tapped on “gun” and tilted his head.
Lennox was certain she hadn’t spelled anything wrong, so she pointed at the holster Yellow wore on his right thigh, which held the same gun he had shoved into her hands. “Gun?”
Orange nodded his head and proceeded to write a new word underneath hers. He didn’t translate it to English like Besh had, so it took her a second to figure out what it said.
“Blaster,” he said.
Interesting. They had what was essentially a one-to-one translation but different terminology for some words. And it wouldn’t be possible to anticipate what those words were until they came up. Great.
“Thank you for the blaster then.” It sounded clunky mixed with her English, though she suspected that was mostly due to just having learned the word. But she got her message across given how Orange and Yellow both nodded at her, so that was a plus.
“What are your names?” She said after she wrote it out.
There was a pause, and she glanced around when it dragged on long enough to make her nervous. Should she take it back? Maybe she wasn’t going to stick around, so it didn’t matter? She didn’t know where else she could go.
Lennox couldn’t help the hopeful smile that spread when Orange spoke, and it only grew when the other followed his example.
“Fixer.” Green was the next to talk.
“Scorch.” Yellow gave her a thumbs up.
“Sev.” Red all but grunted after a much longer pause.
She committed them all to memory and tucked the clipboard under her arm, sticking her hand out to Orange - Boss - when it was freed. “Lennox.”
Okay, make a good impression: eye contact, firm handshake.
Except her grip still paled in comparison to his, and he could probably break her hand right now if he really wanted to. It was the same for Fixer, Scorch, and Sev, with only the slightest discrepancies.
She had to consciously stop herself from flexing her fingers when she stepped away, but they certainly ached like she needed to. Instead she went back to her clipboard and wrote:
‘So what happens to me now?’ She really wanted to know.
Boss looked over her shoulder and said something to Besh, who hadn’t moved from the table. He was frowning when Lennox glanced back at him, which didn’t exactly make her feel good about the answer to her question. When he saluted and turned to leave she waved at him uncertainly, and was glad when he waved back before walking out the door.
The clipboard was pushed back into her hands. This time, Boss wrote in English.
‘Now, we talk.’
That sounded ominous. But Lennox took a deep breath, nodded, and turned to sat back in her chair. She placed the clipboard and translated alphabets in the middle, and gestured for Boss to sit across from her, assuming she would be talking with him.
The atmosphere chilled in the next second as he took a seat. It was tense, and the others - Fixer, Scorch, Sev, she ran through their names again - stood around them.
‘Do you work for the Separatists’
There was a symbol she didn’t recognize at the end of the question, but it was definitely a question. Must’ve been their version of a question mark.
‘I’m not sure I know what you mean by Separatist.’ She stuck to using their alphabet. It might not have been easy for her to write, but they could both read faster if they were using each other’s language.
‘How did you end up in the droid factory on Geonosis’
Droid. So they called the robots something else too.
‘What’s Geonosis?’ That’s what she was stuck on.
If Boss thought she was being purposefully obtuse, because she knew that’s what it sounded like, then he didn’t show it. ‘You killed Geonosians, but you don’t know their planet?’
Lennox was surprised to see the English question mark at the end this time. So he noticed it too.
‘If Geonosians were those aliens, then yes.’ She paused. There was no harm, yet, in giving them extra information. ‘I didn’t know there was any life on other planets before yesterday.’
‘What planet are from?’
It baffled Lennox that that was a question she ever had to answer. Her eyes flicked over to Fixer when he walked over to the hologram table and turned it on. It lit up and he shifted through information so quickly she had no hope of deciphering it.
Boss didn’t write anything else until after Fixer spoke - the first time anyone had spoken since Besh left.
‘There’s no record of a planet Earth in the galaxy.’
Lennox stilled. She didn’t even notice Boss holding out the pencil for her until he tapped it on the table. She took it without looking.
‘And what galaxy would that be, exactly?’
She folded her hands in front of her mouth, trying not to shake in suspense of his answer.
Boss raised his eyebrow at her, and her heart sank.
Her head thunked against the table, and she tugged at the hair on the nape of her neck while she groaned. She heard Boss clear his throat, and she peeked up at him with a withering glare. Couldn’t she have her sudden mid-life crisis in peace for a few seconds?
She gestured for the pencil again while rubbing at her face.
‘My galaxy-‘ she grimaced as she wrote, ‘-is the Milky Way.’
‘There’s no such thing as extragalactic travel. Where are you from?’
‘Whether you think it’s possible or not doesn’t make it any less true; I’m from Earth in the Milky Way galaxy. And I don’t know how I got here, in case you were planning on circling back to your previous question of how I ended up in that factory.’
Alright, that might have been a bit ranting, but she was frustrated and confused, as well as a slew of other things she didn’t care to find words for at the moment. Besides, she had no reason to hide anything from these people. Not that she thought they would believe her if she told them that. Despite having put a gun in her hands, they didn’t seem to be the trusting type.
‘What were you doing before we found you?’
Scorch snorted from where he was reading over Boss’s shoulder, and Lennox couldn’t stop her lips from twitching up at the sound.
The tension in the air lessened, if only a little. They kept to the same vein of questioning, and she answered them truthfully to the best of her ability. She had questions of her own, of course, which Boss answered… most of the time. He said just enough to keep her placated and ran words around her the rest of the time. It was kind of fun if she were being honest. She didn’t get mental stimulation of that caliber often, and verbally sparing with Boss certainly made up for the lack of it.
He also absolutely knew that she knew what he was doing. So really, who was letting who do what here?
The conversation, or rather interrogation, tapered off after a while. Lennox wasn’t entirely sure how long it had been going on for, since there wasn’t a clock in the room, but they did go through two pieces of paper front and back if that said anything about it.
Besh came back just as they finished up, though whether that was planned or not Lennox didn’t know. He was carrying a few tablets with him, and she could hear the tell-tale sound of rustling notebook paper. Which was nice because she liked writing. That wasn’t to say that she didn’t like the tablets or technology in general, but she would have to wait until she learned how to use it. Couldn’t do that if she didn’t understand anything on it yet.
Learn the language - fuck shit up - figure out how to get home to another galaxy.
Simple three step plan.
Besh started teaching her immediately while the others left to go about whatever it was they did when she wasn’t following them. He said they’d be back to collect her later. She didn’t mind.
She and Besh used one notebook to talk, and she took notes, mostly in English, in another one. It was simpler than she thought it would be, but learning a new language was still never that easy. He also taught her how to use the tablets, even though she struggled to read everything. It was fairly intuitive once she got the hang of it. Plus the longer she wrote everything the easier it became to write without having to reference the translation paper for every letter.
Besh also said she had the strangest accent he had ever heard when she tried speaking Basic. Which she found out was the name of their language when she asked what that word meant in that context. She couldn’t imagine a whole galaxy using one language. That ultimately lead to him explaining all the other “galactic standards” they had, and she said how it compared it to Earth. Maybe they weren’t so different after all.
At the very least, part one of her plan - learn the language - was ongoing but seemingly in line for success.
@itsagrimm @lackofhonor @imalovernotahater @maulblr
pairing: Gregor x original fem. character
warning: smut, 18+, vaginal fingering, piv sex. some angst. but mainly a lot of fluff :)
Summary: Basically, Gregor deserves all the love in the world and this is him receiving it <3
He let go of her hands suddenly and took one step back.
“I am so sorry!” - he said, his cheeks blushing. “I don’t know what came over me, I didn’t mean to…”
She put her hand on his shoulder and smiled. She didn’t see it coming - a kiss! A kiss like that! Perhaps because it’s been a while, or perhaps because she had been so focused on running and getting as far as possible from Borkus’ house, but either way, a kiss was the last thing she expected. But what a surprise it was. She could feel her whole body starting to react to him - to him just standing so close to her. She felt hot all of a sudden as if there was a heat radiating from him.
“It’s okay. You don’t have to be sorry.” - she finally said, quietly. His eyes caught hers again, curious. “I liked it!” - she added, and she could feel that it was now her turn to blush.
Damn, we’re like two teenagers!
“You did?” - Gregor’s eyes widened.
She nodded and smiled, finding his genuine surprise adorable.
“Yes.” - she said and took one step closer to him. Gregor kept staring at her, still not really daring to touch her again.
“So you wouldn’t mind if I did it again?” - he whispered.
She shook her head, not able to respond properly as she felt some new, almost long-forgotten emotions waking up in her and overwhelming her. She knew she wanted this from the first moment she saw Gregor, but the feeling of being attracted to someone was so foreign to her after all that time in isolation on Abafar. She never thought she’d ever feel like this again, but she did, and he was there, wrapping his hands around her waist and finding her lips in yet another gentle kiss. She hugged him back and pulled him closer to her, cherishing the feeling of his body pressed against hers.
His kiss was passionate and more determined this time. His tongue touched her bottom lip, and she responded, granting him access and feeling his tongue on hers. He pulled her closer to him and soon there was no space left between them. She could feel him grow and the bulge in his pants twitch. He looked at her, aware of his arousal and the look in his eyes almost apologetic.
“I… I feel like I’ve done this before, this feeling is very familiar but…but I have no recollection…” - he mumbled.
“It’s been a while for me too - it’s been so long, that I barely have any memories of it as well...” She chuckled. Gregor’s face was still serious, and she wondered what went on in his mind at that moment.
“We’re quite a team, aren’t we?” - he smiled, as he gently brushed her cheek with his thumb.
She smiled back and kissed him, tangling her fingers in the zipper of his yellow vest and pulling it down. As she unzipped it, Gregor took it off and threw it on the floor. The look in his eyes was unmistakable, but Gregor still seemed to hesitate to make a move. But she couldn’t wait anymore, feeling an urge and a desire so strong it overpowered her. She pulled her shirt over her head, revealing a band covering her breasts. It took all of Gregor's shattered self-control not to rip the rest of her clothes off in one motion.
“Would you like to help me take it off?”- she asked him - “You can just unhook it here.” - she showed him, and Gregor did, immediately reaching behind her back, finding those hooks and unhooking them and tossing the band to the floor. The look in his eyes at the sight of her naked breasts in front of him was indescribable.
“I don’t remember ever doing this before…” - Gregor whispered, his eyes on her swollen breast, “but somehow I know exactly what to do… what I want to do to you”. - he raised his eyes and looked at her.
She felt electricity shoot through her entire body. She was painfully aware of the dampness gathering between her legs and her aching pussy clenching at his every touch and every word.
“If you want me too… “ - Gregor added, and all she did was nod, all she could do was nod, as her words failed her. Perhaps they were two people with memories of previous passions far gone, but right there, at that moment they were making a new memory, one that would stay buried in their minds for a very long time. Their bodies reacting to every touch, him discarding his clothes in swift moves and her following, his hands touching her breasts in a most gentle way, worshipping them and her whole body, that moment was theirs to create and share, and the absence of any memories of the previous ones was irrelevant.
Gregor picked her up and carried her to the bed and laid her down slowly. He reached for the waistband of her pants, pulling them slowly down, and leaving her only in her panties. He got up to take his shirt off, but then he caught the sight of her lying on the bed, her long hair spread out, her naked body in front of him and he almost gasped. He stayed that way for a moment, just gazing at her, almost as if he wanted to take a mental picture.
“You are so beautiful!” - he finally said, and she smiled, extending her arm to him. He pulled his pants down too, leaving his shorts on before he joined her in bed. He worshipped her body, covering her in kisses everywhere he could reach. His hands roamed across her breasts, her waist and digging deeper into her buttocks. She only had one partner before, and that was years ago, both of them late teenagers at the time, and the experience was nothing like this. The sensuality with which Gregor touched her was something she read about in romance novels or something she thought only happened in holodramas.
She felt him grow harder in his shorts, and she instinctively pressed her body closer to his, feeling his arousal against her lower stomach, making Gregor growl deep in his throat.
“I want you” - he whispered in her ear, nibbling on her earlobe, and she could feel how much he meant it.
“Then take me” - she said, and he dragged his fingers down her body, reaching her pussy and stroking her over her soaked panties. She felt a bit embarrassed that her underwear was so wet, and he noticed her slightly wince as he touched her. He removed his hand, but he kissed her blushing cheeks, first the one and then the other and moved his lips again closer to her ear:
“I love how wet you are for me, baby girl” - he whispered - “Is it okay if I do this?”
His hand was back on her again, swiftly moving the fabric of her panties to the side. She felt his finger on her sensitive skin, tracing her dampness and reaching her entrance.
She nodded, closing her eyes. He pressed his finger slowly inside her:
“How about this?” - he whispered, his soft beard gently tickling the sensitive skin on her neck.
“Yes, yes!” - she panted, feeling his thick finger entering her, and finding that sensitive spot deep inside her, the one she never could reach on her own.
Gregor twisted his finger slightly and massaged the spongy spot he found, and then slightly pulled out only to press inside her again, this time adding another finger. She arched her back, digging her fingers in Gregor’s shoulders.
Gregor loved seeing her like that and couldn’t take his eyes off her. The sensation he was feeling was a familiar one, arousal so strong that it was almost becoming painful, but he didn’t have any memories of ever experiencing it before. He felt like a virgin, like she was the first woman he ever touched, and it made the already special experience even more unique.
She could feel the hardness in his shorts every time she arched her body against his fingers, and she saw a damp spot that was forming at the tip of his arousal, staining his shorts. She touched him over his shorts and he sucked air hard at her unexpected move.
“I want you inside me, Gregor, I can’t wait anymore!” - she panted, and Gregor didn't need to be told twice. He pulled his shorts down in a swift move, pulling his fingers out and lining his tip against her hot entrance. He pressed slowly in, cherishing the feeling, finally getting some relief to his aching arousal. He was going slowly, but she could feel the stretch, feeling slight pain and wincing. Gregor noticed that and stopped immediately, but she opened her eyes and encouraged him to keep going.
“Just go slow, it’s okay, I can take it..” - she said, and he did, filling her up, gently and passionately.
When he finally bottomed out he took a moment to check on her again, and she nodded, moving under him, arching her body, and encouraging him to keep going. Gregor pulled out, leaving only the tip in and then pressed all the way into her again, starting his thrusts, slowly, while watching her face for cues. The pain she initially felt was soon replaced with pleasure, as she relaxed her face and started moaning, feeling him reach deep inside her.
As his movements became faster her gasping became louder and she held onto him, repeating his name, feeling his lips everywhere on her skin, as he was taking her, fast and hard.
She could feel the pressure building up in her clit, and she managed to whisper to him that she was close, wrapping her arms even tighter around his body:
“I can feel it, baby girl, I feel you, let go…” - and she did, her whole body tightening around him while crying out his name. It only took a few more thrusts for him to reach his own peak, pulling out just in time and pumping himself, groaning and spraying hot white streaks over her lower stomach. His head dropped down onto her shoulder and she held him, staying that way for a while, both of them out of breath. As their breathing calmed he lifted his head, gazing intensely into her soft eyes:
“That was incredible” - he whispered.
“Yes, it was!”
Gregor woke up in the middle of the night, only this time it wasn’t a nightmare that woke him. It was the feel of a warm body pressed against his, and it took him a moment to realise who that was and what was happening. But then it sank in and Gregor was almost overwhelmed by the sense of calm and serenity that surrounded him. It felt good to have her in his bed and feel her hand resting on his chest. It felt good to listen to her calm breathing, and feel her warm body cling to his. He planted a kiss on her forehead, gently and slowly, trying not to wake her up, but she moved slightly, and he saw her lips widening into a subtle smile, her eyes still shut.
“You can’t get one night of proper sleep because of me!” - Gregor whispered. “I keep waking you up”.
She opened her eyes, and cuddled closer to him, feeling his hand under her shoulder squeeze her tighter to him.
“I don’t mind being woken up like this.” - she whispered back.
Gregor kissed her again.
“You can’t sleep? - she asked him.
“No… I can’t sleep more than an hour or so…” - he replied - “I wake up, thoughts start stirring and I can’t fall back to sleep again.”
“What are you thinking about now?”
“Now?” - Gregor said, running his hand up and down her arm. “Honestly just how lucky I am to have met you.”
“I feel the same way.”
“I don’t know what I would have done without you!“
“Oh, Gregor… ! - she said, placing a quick kiss on his chest. “Honey... I wish I could do more, I wish I could help you get your memory back…”
“I know, baby girl… me too.”
For a moment, Gregor's thoughts seemed to wander, and then he looked at her, hesitating for a moment. Finally, he decided to ask:
“How did you end up here?”
She shifted a bit and lifted her head off his shoulder. Gregor could feel that her whole body tensed.
“I didn’t mean to upset you, we don’t have to talk about that!” - he said as he planted a kiss on her shoulder.
“No it’s fine, it’s just... I never talked about that with anyone here. You don’t talk about these things on Abafar… “
“You can talk to me!” - Gregor said as he stroked her hair. “I hope you know that. I wish I could tell you my story… I’d love to do that one day…”
She was quiet for a while. Abafar made her reclusive and introverted, but she wasn’t always like that. She longed for the kind of closeness she was feeling with Gregor all of her life, and she realised how much she wanted to share her story, for quite some time.
“There isn’t much to tell… everyone here is running away from something or someone... I guess it’s no different for me. My sister…. I’m... I was very close to her. It’s just the two of us, she's my only family. She raised me and made sure I always had everything... But I never asked how she earned the credits…”
Gregor was listening, his eyes never leaving hers.
“It turned out she got involved with the wrong people, a street gang, dealing spice…”
Her eyes dropped as she said that and Gregor’s hand tightened around her.
“I don’t know all the details, but a large amount of spice went missing and people who owned it weren’t going to let it go. Somehow she and two others were blamed and they started threatening them. Finally, they gave them an ultimatum - return the spice or get the credits, or else they’ll start abducting their family members, one by one.” - she felt tears in her eyes, but she suppressed them, taking a deep breath and continuing the story.
“My sister didn’t want to take any chances and one night she got me on a ship and told me I was going to someplace special and that it was a surprise. She gave me a box, and made me promise I’d first open it when I arrived at this magical place - and that it was all part of the surprise. I was 17, and I didn’t really believe her, but I played along, never imagining that she could do something like… like this.” A tear rolled down her cheek, Gregor catching it immediately and wiping it away.
“When the ship arrived here, the people on the ship ordered me to disembark, unwilling to answer any of my questions. I opened the box she gave me, and I found a letter. She had written she was sorry, and how she had no choice but to do this… Send me to a most reclusive part of the galaxy. That I had to trust her, and that I’d be safe here. She said she wanted to protect me till she solved the mess she got herself in, and that she’d come and get me when it was safe…”
Gregor was almost afraid to ask the next question but he did:
“When was that, when did you arrive here?”
“7 years ago!” - she said, “7 years and 58 days.”
“I’m so sorry, baby, that must have been incredibly difficult for you” - Gregor said, planting another kiss on her temple. “To be here alone, not knowing where she was, and how she was…”
She nodded, moving her head back, placing it on Gregor’s chest. She felt like a ton of bricks had been lifted from her shoulders. Sharing her story, telling HIM her story felt incredibly liberating.
“It was. The first month, I cried all day every day. I wanted to die. I hated it here - no one talked to me, no one was interested in me. Everyone just minded their own business. So then I realised I had to help myself - no one else was going to.”
“Is that why you’re helping me know?” - Gregor suddenly asked.
“I know what it's like to be completely alone and desperate in a foreign place…: and I wish someone told me that when I first arrived here.”
Gregor took a deep breath, his fingers tangling in her hair, caressing her.
“But that’s not the only reason” - she added, catching his gaze again.
“I like you, Gregor, I liked you from the first moment I saw you…” - she said, slightly surprising herself with her blunt honesty. But then again, living in such an isolated place for so long teaches you to grasp and hold on to every opportunity life offers you.
Gregor looked genuinely touched by her words and he smiled.
“I like you too, baby girl… in fact when I first saw you I couldn’t even look at you because I found you so beautiful.” -
“Really?” - she teased him - “Because I felt like you kept staring at me!”
“Oh no!” - he said - “I wasn’t aware of that.” - he smiled embarrassedly.
She smiled back and planted a kiss on his soft beard.
“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable, baby!” - he added.
“No, no… you didn’t. I liked it. I don’t think I could ever get tired of seeing your eyes everywhere, Gregor!”
The next few days were wonderful. As they worked at the diner, they sneaked glances and secretly touched each other whenever they had the chance, and where no one could see them, counting moments till they’d go home and be together. As soon as they’d enter their little basement apartment they wouldn’t be able to hold their hands off of each other. She started sleeping in Gregor’s bed and they’d make love every night till they’d fall asleep exhausted in each other’s arms.
One night, as they finished dinner, Gregor looked like he wanted to say something, but he hesitated.
“Gregor, is everything alright?” - she asked him.
“Everything’s fine, baby girl, I was just thinking… “- he hesitated.
“I was thinking how I never want to forget you!” - he said. His words carried a sense of sorrow and fear that was almost tangible.
She sat in silence, moved by his words, but unable to find the right words to answer him. She wasn’t sure what brought that on, but she could guess.
“Sometimes when I look at your face I try to memorise every line, every part, I try to store it somewhere deep in my memory, but… how can I ever be sure that it won’t be wiped away from it, the same way my other memories have been….” - he stopped, not being able to finish that sentence.
“Gregor - she said, touching his arm across the table - “You’ll remember, I’m sure, your memory will return. You just need time and some help… if we could get a hold of something from your past I’m sure that would help. We’ll go to Borkus’ basement again, and try to see what’s in that crate. That will help, I’m sure..”
“I - I know, baby girl, I know, but…” - he hesitated again.
“What, tell me!” - she could sense he had something on his mind but was holding back.
“Do you know that older Twi’lek gentleman from the diner, you know the one with the newspaper?” - he asked.
“Did you know that he’s a painter?
“No, I didn't know that,” she replied, taken slightly aback by the change of topic. “How do you know that?”
“I talked to him. I talk to him almost every day.”- Gregor replied.
Gregor really was new there, she thought to herself. He still didn't get the memo that people didn’t talk to each other on Abafar, or ask each other about their previous lives. But it was endearing that he did that.
“So, I was wondering… if you wouldn’t mind, that is…” - he started rubbing the back of his neck like he always did when he was nervous, “Would you let him paint you? Your portrait, you know, your face…? I want to have it… if … if you wouldn't mind...” - Gregor looked almost apologetic asking this of her.
“Gregor…” - she said, looking at him, moved and almost fighting tears in her eyes. For a moment, he was concerned that he had said something terribly wrong, something that had crossed the line.
“It’s not a big deal, actually, baby, it was just a silly idea…” - he stammered, rubbing his neck.
She took his other hand in hers, holding his hands across the table and making him look her in the eyes.
“You are not losing your memory again, Gregor, I promise you that!” - she said firmly. His eyes were still sad, but he smiled. “And it would be my honour to pose for a portrait - as a gift to you.”
Gregor widened his eyes and smiled. She saw that her words made him genuinely happy. He brought her hands to his face and kissed them both, gently.
“Thank you!” - he whispered.
The next day he approached the gentlemen from the diner and arranged for him to come by their basement that evening to start working on the portrait. He didn't want to be there for the process - he just wanted to see the finished product. She found it endearing, seeing how much he actually cared about it, how much he wanted the portrait. But it made her sad too, knowing why he was doing it, knowing he was worrying that his memory might always be playing tricks on him. Knowing that he wanted to always remember her face, always carry her face with him in any way possible made her heart ache for him.
The portrait was finished fairly quickly. The gentleman from the diner, whose name she didn't dare to ask, told her that he only did the drawings, simple lines and no colours. She sat, turning her half-profile to him, and he stared at her for a while before he began sketching. He didn't speak, his eyes focused on the canvas, raising them every now and then, analysing the lines and the contours of her face. She noticed how his brows furrowed every now and then as if he wasn’t happy with something, and then moments after his face brightening up again. She was curious to see the finished product, but more than anything, she hoped Gregor would like it.
After almost an hour, he stepped away from the canvas, observed it for a while, then turned it towards her, showing her her portrait. It was beautiful, dreamy somehow - her hair dominating the canvas, flowing around her profile and framing her face. She had a feeling Gregor would love it. She thanked him and asked how much she should pay him, but he shook his head, replying that this was “a favour to that kind young man”. She realised that Gregor was probably the first stranger in quite a long time who actually spoke to him, and how that meant something to him. She smiled and thanked him, and added that she’ll see him tomorrow at breakfast.
When Gregor came back a couple of hours later, he found her in bed, asleep. She left the painting on the kitchen table and covered it with a cloth. Next to it, he found a message:
I hope you’ll know how special you are to me every time you look at this portrait
Gregor unwrapped the portrait slowly, hesitatingly and he almost gasped as he revealed it. Seeing the lines of her face replicated so faithfully in such an original manner, he instinctively touched the canvas, tracing the lines of her hair, her jaw and her lips. He was overwhelmed with emotions, deeply hoping he’d never be in a situation where he’ll be in doubt over who she was - hoping he’ll always remember her. No matter what happened with his previous memories and if they ever came back - these new memories, the ones he was creating with her were the ones he wished to keep forever.
“Do you like it?” - he almost jumped, her voice surprising him. He turned around and saw her sleepy face looking at him.
“Did I wake you up? Again? I’m making a habit out of that… I’m sorry….” - he asked, stepping closer to her.
“No, it’s okay, I wasn’t really asleep.” - she replied. He came closer to her, and sat on her bed, taking her head in his hands and gazing intensely into her eyes.
“I love it. Thank you so much for posing to him.” - he whispered, touching her cheek.
“It was my pleasure” - she replied, easing her head into his touch.
“I never want to forget you, baby girl, “ - Gregor said as he pulled her closer to him, and hugged her tightly.
“You won’t Gregor, I promise, you’ll…” -
But before she could finish her thought a sound of her comm beeping filled the room. She looked in the direction of the comm, surprised.
“Who can that be at this hour?” - she said, getting up.
She took the device in her hand and read the message.
“It’s Borkus.” - she said. Gregor got up as well and came closer to her.
“What does he want?” - he asked her.
She was quiet for a while, rereading the message in front of her a few times.
“He wants me to go do the supply run with him tomorrow.” - she said, her voice strained. She turned and looked at Gregor. He could see that something was up.
“What’s wrong?” - he asked her, taking her shoulders in his hands.
“He never asked me to do the supply run with him before. No one ever goes with him, he’s very secretive about it.”
Gregors brows furrowed as he listened.
“I think he knows!” - she whispered. “He’s suspecting something”.
“Don’t go!” - he said, “We’ll think of something. Tell him I’ll go with him!”
She hesitated for a moment, but then she shook her head:
“No!” - she said - “We need to play his game if we want to find any answers. We should let him make the first move - and I think this is it.”
She glanced over at Gregor, noticing he was tightly wringing his hands and shifting from one leg to another. He was worried. She knew a lot of things were at stake for him, but she also realised that they had to take some risks in order to get to the bottom of things. Perhaps she couldn’t really do much to sort her life out, but she could do something to help him sort his - and she was determined to do that!
She came closer to him and planted a kiss on his cheek.
“Don’t worry, baby, I’ll be careful, I promise!”
Finished the assignment that was giving me a headache and then played their playlist on loop ✌️
"Uhhhh glad we not going ThAt way."
Recently my family and I did a Covid test after hearing my uncle wasn’t feeling well and unfortunately both my mother and I have came up positive. My brother is fine he’s results were negative and I been isolating sense.
I am fine, ( already been vaccinated months ago) a lot of the heavier symptoms I didn’t even notice or didn’t experience because I was so distracted with work. That I thought me being tried & nauseous a lot of the time was due to work( our hours have tough recently ) same with the headaches.
Though I am worried about my next paycheck, I work retail so I don’t think they will pay for my hours. ( HR hasn’t contact me at all) Which sucks cuz this pushes future plans further. I also have vet appointment to schedule for our dog and now not sure if my paycheck will be able to cover. I can’t ask my brother for help because already has to take care of the car.
If you like my art please consider supporting or if anyone could spare some money that would be wonderful. Links below
Although I’m have to stay home will continue to draw and upload, there are multiple things in the works.
Boss’ last thought before the shot punched right through his shields was ah. Fuck. He was running on empty at this point; his plastoid was scored and battered and he’d lost his right spaulder not two clicks ago. He was in the dust coughing before he got a chance to recoup, the bitter orange sand of Geonosis coating the inside of his mouth. It puffed up around him when he slapped the ground with his palm, juddering with aborted movement. Boss curled around the hole in his hip, one corner of his mind taking a quick, quiet diagnostic. The rest of his mind was busy descending into unbridled panic. He couldn’t hear anything over the staccato of blasterfire and boots pounding the dust, his own breathing filling his ears until it seemed like the entire galaxy would end like that—burning lungs stuck on an inhale, the flutter of his pulse trapped over his eye and in the back of his throat.
“Squad leader’s down,” Scorch reported, deep voice cutting through the static noise filling Boss’ head. His ears were ringing, he realized, muzzy. “Oh-Seven, fall back.”
“We need to push on,” Fixer argued, words fuzzing in and out. “We’re almost there. He’ll be alright. You aren’t even second.”
“Up yours, Forty. I am now. Sev, cover my arse while I recover Bossman.”
“Copy.” Sev was succinct as ever. The rhythm of his shots changed, turning tighter and tighter.
“I’m gonna give him so much shit for this,” Fixer muttered. He must have still been slicing the terminal to get—in. Out. Wherever. Boss’ vision was blurring in and out; the great sun swayed above him in the sky, blinking down at Boss like a burning eye.
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«I think I like clones better than regular beings. They’re superior in every way. Maybe we should keep them at home and send the Republic’s random humanity to be the cannon fodder.»
(Gif is not mine, credits to @ dominosqd)
- Republic Commando: True Colors
got halfway thru went i realized it actually fits the bad batch better BUT here’s boss and fixer in the metal slug 3 style
quick fixer and scorch
draws these two like something important depends on it
Give it up for Boss, my friends! He’s perfection and I love him.
(The last picture shows him next to clones of varying chonk so we can appreciate his hefty commando armour amongst his brothers)
Coruscant never sleeps. Corr knows, now, why it’s such a common phrase. How it works. Traffic never slows, lights blink in and out but are never off completely, citizens stalk the streets at all hours of every day. Movement, always movement. Constant.
The sounds of the neighbours have long become white noise in Corr’s head. Like clockwork it is, scrapes here, footsteps there, the play of recorded voices muffled by walls. Other than that, and the lights outside, and the flickering stream of a distant, way up speederlane, the flat is calm.
Corr runs his hand through Mereel’s hair again. It’s soft, supposedly, or it looks it. Dark. Except for the stripe near his forehead, bleached blonde and straw dry because he thinks it’s cool. Corr’s lips twitch up—it kind of is.
His fingertips graze gently behind Mereel’s ear. Just enough pressure to be felt, to scratch lightly and not tickle. Mereel’s lashes quiver and he turns his head into Corr’s palm automatically, angling for more.
Corr’s other hand cups the curve of his jaw. His thumb traces the bow of his lips. His fingers splay the length of the column of his throat, curve off towards his collar bone protectively. Mereel’s breath is hot and damp on Corr’s metal, he knows because he sees it condensing. He knows because he can lean in and feel it on his lips instead, if he wants. His hand rests, only, featherlight, because he’s far too scared of the crushing Force behind even one digit to press any harder.
“You’re thinking too hard,” Mereel slurs.
“Oh,” Corr says, barely a breath of a laugh in it. “And you would know what that’s like?”
“Not with your hands on me, I don’t.”
Corr smiles and repositions the hand in his hair so he can caress circles into his temple at the same time.
“Mm… Just like that.”
Mereel turns a little on his side and folds his knees up, curling around Corr’s body like a lazy, oversized predator. He kisses Corr’s thumb as it passes over his lower lip and sighs.
Sunset glows gently, persistently golden on the horizon of the false window set into the wall behind them.
You folks ready to get sad ? Darman and Etain <3
Rex and Boss: oh no, there's two of them
This is from the beginning of Hard Contact before the members of Omega really know each other yet. If all Atin has talked about so far is gear, it could be because he’s a little guarded right now, and understandably so, considering what he just went through and that he’s used to the environment Vau created around himself and his trainees. So gear is a professional, safe topic that he’s also interested in.
This line is also interesting because out of all people, Atin has plenty to say that isn’t about gear. He definitely has opinions and ends up becoming the person who most openly talks things that he ‘shouldn’t’ talk about as though it were normal to do so. Right from the beginning we know that Niner has some thoughts of his own too, but for a while they mostly come out in speech almost as lines that tumble out of his mouth because he can’t keep them to himself anymore, like saying them helps him process them somehow. Fi says a lot too, but constantly jokes and dances just around the center of what he wants to communicate. I’ll have to think about Darman some more and revisit his lines, but mostly I remember being in his head a lot and him being confident that his brothers all understand him anyway even without him having to say anything. (We also know he likes talking to Etain and gets a lot out of interacting with Niner too.)
Atin is the one with a couple scenes where he seems very open and unguarded about stuff like wanting to marry Laseema and deserting the army. He’s completely confident and determined, and you know that once he’s said these things, he will do them. So Niner wondering if Atin ever talks about anything besides gear is kind of funny because at this point Niner has nooo idea that this is the guy who’s going to verbally challenge some fundamental assumptions he has about what he’s meant for in this life.
“We learn fast, and unfortunately we learn everything.”
Yeah, you have no idea Niner. No idea...
"where's thrawn" this. "where's ezra" that. Why don't we talk about Gregor. "It was an honor to fight with you for something we chose to believe in." are you fucking kidding me. that's heart shattering.
Delta Squad by Ginge519