Curses, Cocoons And Clones Part 3

gelphie - modern au

so! i did a poll like a week or so ago and model glinda/photographer elphie won in terms of modern aus you'd want to see. idk if I'll make a full fic but figured i'd give y'all a taste of the idea:

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“Hey, Pfannee.” Elphaba lifts a hand in a casual wave as she enters the room, nodding her head to some of the other staff as she makes her way over to the young man. He brightens when he sees her, tottering over happily with his arms full of clothes. 

Typical Pfannee. 

“Elphaba, hey girl! Cutting it a bit close, aren’t you?”

“I’ve got three minutes to spare, what do you mean?”

Pfannee laughs, awkwardly nudging his glasses back up his nose without dropping his load. Elphaba drifts further into the room, putting down her bag and sipping on her tea.

“So, I heard we’re working with someone new today,” she drawls. 

Beside her, Pfannee gasps. “You mean you don’t know?”

“Know what?”

But Pfannee’s shocked expressions falls into something mischievous and he shakes his head. “Nope. Not going to ruin the surprise now. You’re going to die when you see her.”

Elphaba rolls her eyes. By the way he’s acting, this new model is likely someone famous. Or- famous to Pfannee at least. Elphaba doesn’t really keep up with anyone like that. Despite having chosen photography as her career, she tries to keep herself separate from the fashion industry at large. 

It’s incredibly toxic, and she’s seen what it can do to people. Case in point: 

“I can't believe I get to take her new measurements! Rumors say that she’s lost weight, and that means I’ll be the first to know her smallest size!” Pfannee grins like that’s a completely reasonable thing to say about an adult woman. 

Elphaba hides her frown behind another sip of tea. Most models don’t really have a lot of room to lose weight. If it’s enough to make a visible difference, especially since the woman’s last job, then she’s likely dropped a concerning amount in a very small time period. 

Elphaba spends the next blur of time discussing the shoot with the other photographers as well as the lighting crew, the hair and makeup artists, and Pfannee and his lackeys. They’re mostly set up and ready to go when a voice announces the model is on her way in, and everyone bustles around to prepare. 

Elphaba waits calmly, Pfannee nearly vibrating beside her. “Here she comes!” he says, just barely remembering in time not to physically shake Elphaba’s shoulders. 

A man enters first, stunningly dressed in a tailored navy suit with his chestnut hair swept back and his blue eyes sparkling. That’s sign number one. The second sign is the voice floating behind him, high and airy and delicate. Almost sing-songy. 

Ice floods through Elphaba’s veins. It stops her heart for several seconds before it kicks back on, three times faster than before. Dread twists in her stomach as she turns and eyes the doorway where a glimmer of pink and gold awaits her. 

It’s been years since she’s seen Glinda Upland. At least- in person that is. 

Glinda Upland, one of the highest-paid models in the country, is featured on enough billboards, magazines, ads, commercials, social media posts, and celebrity shows to make even the lowliest citizen feel like they personally know her. Her face is everywhere, and what a stunning face it is. 

Gorgeous and defined with flawless pale skin and dark chocolate eyes. Long lashes flutter as she blinks, and a single dimple carves into her cheek with every smile. America’s darling. Tiny, dazzling, desirable. 

And the woman Elphaba once loved.

The Unknown

What if instead of Tiplee and Tiplar accompanying Anakin in "The Unknown" episode, Obi-Wan did? And what if instead of Fives and Tup, it's Cody and Rex?

Whumptober #28

Part 18 of Whumptober 2022

Hmm how about speechless and Rex??

Speechless: Rex can't speak because of a sore throat.

“You’re definitely sick,” Kix remarked.

Rex glared at Kix. Really? He was sick? He had no idea, other than his crusty eyes and sniffly nose and the open sores at the back of his throat that felt like tiny daggers when he swallowed, nevermind spoke.

“I’d like to keep you in the medbay, for the next day or two. At least until you can speak again.” Rex crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow. He knew Kix; he would never phrase it optionally unless it was optional. So Rex would be breaking no regulations by walking out of the medby right now.

Which he fully intended on doing, as he got up and headed for the door.

“Captain!” Kix caught him by the arm. “You can barely swallow, which means eating and  drinking, both of which you need to do to get well, are going to be problematic. If you stay here, and rest, I can get you an IV and you’ll get better faster.”

Rex shook his head. As always, there was too much to be done. Better to work at partial efficiency for a while than zero percent efficiency. At least to make Kix feel better (and not because he was desperately thirsty) he took the cup of ice chips Kix had brought out earlier. The cold would be good for his throat.

*****

Kix watched with a scowl as Rex walked out. How was Rex even going to communicate with anyone?

Right, Rex did know some hand signs from his arc training. But the only people who could translate for him were other ARC’s…

Kix chuckled. The things he did to keep his patients in the medbay.

*****

Rex looked for Echo or Fives to help him “talk” to others. Try as he might, he couldn’t find Echo anywhere, but Fives was in the barracks, chatting with Hardcase about detonator yield.

Fives, with me he signed to the ARC.

Fives tilted his head. “Tooka got your tongue, Captain?”

Rex could almost swear he was hiding a smile. How many people knew he was sick already?

Rex motioned again, and walked back out.

Fives kicked Hardcase in farewell. “See yah later, ‘Case. Maybe we can go beyond theoretical and test some of your theories out.” Hardcase drummed on his legs in excitement.

*****

Those munitions storage, those food storage, Rex signed. A large shipment of new supplies had just come in, and needed to be inventoried and put away. Rex put himself in charge of directions, with Fives standing by.

Fives nodded. “Alright, those need to go to munitions, and those go to the food stores,” Fives said- switching the supplies.

Rex shook his head, and repeated himself.

“Ah, sorry Captain. Men, those go to munitions, and those go to food.”

More daggers in his throat as he swallowed some ice. Rex must have made a face, because Fives knocked his own vambrace against his. “You good there Captain?”

Rex nodded and shoved more ice in his mouth.

Thirty cases of the next bunch.

Fives turned to those offloading. “Woah men, too many! We need three, not thirty.”

Rex smacked Fives. Thirty, he signed again, making each motion sharp with his annoyance. Fives did learn ARC signals, right?

“Right right, thirty it is. Sorry brothers.”

Those are for the Commander.

“Bring these to General Skywalker’s room.”

Rex checked the registry and paled, before wildly waving his hands. He did not want to explain how a box full of female sanitation products ended up with the General.

T-A-N-O, he signed, letter by letter.

Fives laughed. “Oh, the Commander? Why didn’t you say so?”

Rex glared at Fives, before marching off to find Echo.

*****

Rex searched everywhere, but couldn’t find Echo. He even commed the Domino, but Echo was unusually silent.

Finally, Rex realized there was one place he hadn’t checked yet.

Echo was indeed in the medbay, helping Kix prep an empty bed with an IV drip and a cup of ice chips.

“Captain!” Kix said, all to cheerful. “Glad you could make it.”

You. Rex pointed at Kix. You did this.

“I don’t think the Captain’s too happy,” Echo remarked innocently. “He thinks you did something.”

“What? Captain, I never would do such a thing as telling Fives to forget his ARC signs for a day, and telling Echo to come here so he can help me prep your bed. Now, I suggest you take off your armor if you want to recover a semblance of comfort.”

Rex scowled at Kix, then accepted defeat by sitting on the bed and slowly stripping off his armor.

Once he was solely in his blacks, Kix pulled Rex’s sleeve up and stuck an IV in the crook of his elbow. “There. Hydration, nutrition, and even a small dose of painkillers because I’m so nice.”

Rex sighed, and gave Kix a thumbs up before sinking into the pillows.

Before Echo could leave, Rex gave him a couple signs, and Echo laughed.

“What did he say,” Kix said, curious.

“Oh I couldn’t repeat it. But the gist of it is, Fives better run when Rex is better.”

For the WIP ask, I want to know more about Fox shoots Rex. 😭

Thank you for asking about it 💗 Believe it or not, that one actually ends up being a fix-it, eventually. It's a canon divergence fic that takes place during the chip conspiracy arc, except that in this, Rex manages to break the Force Field Fives had set up to restrain him and Anakin just as the Coruscant Guards arrive. He puts himself in front of Fives, trying to deescalate the situation, but takes the hit for him instead.

The moment he realized that he shot Rex, and that his blaster wasn't on stun, Fox is devastated by what he's done. And it only gets worst, because when he sees Rex fall, Anakin just loses it and force-chokes Fox. The only reason he doesn't just kill him is Fives, who breaks his concentration, shouting about how they need to get help for Rex.

Thorn takes advantage of it to drag Fox away. Not being able to stay by Rex's side makes it even worse for him and he just breaks down. This time, Fives lives, because Anakin won't let anyone come near his trooper after what happened to Rex. It also leaves Fox fearing the repercussion the Coruscant Guard will ineluctably get for failing its mission. He's so shaken and scared that he doesn't even dare send in the report of how arc trooper Fives wasn't neutralized.

Thorn tries his best to comfort him, but it's not enough to counter how much he now hates himself. No one in the Guard has ever seen him being so miserable. And when Cody asks to see him, Fox is convinced it's to tell him Rex died because of him. However, things turn out better than he expected.

Since Rex wasn't the original target Fox was aiming at, the blaster shot wasn't fatal, even though it left him with a big injury. When Cody heard of Rex getting hurt, he came to see him, along with his General, and they found Fives waiting by the captain's side, who explained them all about the chips, and about Palpatine being the Sith Lord. Also, since Anakin's outburst had many witnesses, Obi-Wan now knows his padawan has gotten dangerously close to the Dark Side, as well as the rest of the Order, who then make sure he gets help, so Vader never comes to be.

So the war is over, and Fox gets to hug Rex and to apologize a thousand times for hurting him.

During the funeral Rex stood behind class Seventeen, his old spot in the platoon occupied by its previous owner. It reminded Rex of a question he’d been putting off asking. 

He didn’t go to find ‘17 until late that evening, almost curfew, knowing the dread low and heavy in his gut would make it impossible to sleep unless he had an answer. 

“Sir? Can I ask you something?” Rex  fell in beside ‘17 as he left the Aurek’s mess after a meeting and made his way to– presumably– his barracks. 

“Yes?” ‘17 stopped, turned to give Rex his full attention. Rex skidded to a halt as well, surprised. 

“Um. Now that Kote’s back, what’s going to happen to me?”

“What do you mean what’s going to happen to you?”

“Am I being transferred back to my CT platoon? If it’s possible, I’d like–” Rex swallowed. “If A-030’s alright with it, could I be transferred into Colt or Havoc’s spot in class Thirty?”

He didn’t want to leave command track. He didn’t want to leave Davijaan or Fox or Kote. And if he was honest with himself, he didn’t want to leave ‘17 either. 

Even if he was in a new class that would be better than being back in CT training. He’d at least get to see them. 

‘17 raised an eyebrow. “Do you want to be transferred?”

“… No, sir.” 

“Then you’re not getting transferred. Not if I have any say.”

“But–” Rex sputtered. “The class is at capacity!”

‘17 shrugged. “Thirty-seven’s only one more than thirty-six. Doesn’t seem like much of a difference to me.” 

“There’s nowhere for me to stand.” 

“Kote and Davijaan can squish in. I’m sure they won’t mind.” 

Rex gaped at ‘17. ‘17 reached out and squeezed his shoulder. “You’re not going anywhere, Rex,” he said, soft. “I promise. And I will do whatever I have to do to keep that promise.” 

And all Rex could do was nod, and hope.

Keep reading

i love these two characters. i need to trap them in a collapsed building so they can talk about their feelings as one of them slowly bleeds out.

Buzzcut -

Among the clone cadets, all the blondies have the same haircut.

In a collective of identical individuals who value their individuality as much as is feasibly possible, here's why -

When Boba is four years old, he doesn't quite understand why the clones are different from him. He knows they are, though. So he looks to the trainers to imitate how to behave, and he treats them kind of like toys. It's fun enough, for a kid with no one else to play with.

And one day he drags his newest playmate back to his rooms to show his father - "Look, he doesn't look right! Look at his hair! Isn't it funny?"

CT -7567 is a cadet who looks the same age as Boba, who has cowlick blonde curls over atop his tan face and his bright brown eyes and he stares up at Jango with wide, wide eyes as Jango stoops to look at him, swatting Boba's hand where it's dragging on the clones arm.

Jango remembers, for the first time in a long time, that his sister had hair like that. That she looked like that - round cheeked and brown eyed and bright haired.

He pats the boy on the head, ruffling his fingers through his locks, a little thinner than Boba's own thick brown. Than Jango's own.

The boy stands very still till Jango's had enough of running his fingers through the strands and stands back up, sending him on his way and ruffling Boba's hair when he pouts about it.

Jango decides not to think about it, after.

Four days later he enters the mess looking for that blonde hair, looking for any blonde hair, and he doesn't find it.

He does find CT-7567, half-hidden in the shadow of a template-perfect CC cadet who dares to fully turn around and face him when Jango focuses on his smaller companion.

That blond hair has been sheared practically down to the skin, those bright brown eyes big and wary of him.

CT-7567 doesn't remind him anymore of his sister.

Right, Jango thinks derisively. What was he thinking? It was nothing more than a defect in the process. the boy was nothing more than a product.

He leaves.

No blonde cadet ever grows their hair out, after that. Even back then the boys all knew - it was never a good thing to garner Jango Fett's attention.

Even after Prime dies, the tradition remains, one batch warning the next behind them to keep the blonde hidden.

Just one more for Sans rest day, @undertalethingems made a great list of drawing ideas and I really loved the one of him and Alphys going to a museum to nerd out so I drew them into my local museum

Cramps

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

"Ugh..."

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You look even more tense than normal."

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

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

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

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

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

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

Lucifer nods and leaves.

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

"Damn it..."

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

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

"Lucifer. I should have known."

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What is this?"

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

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

"...thank you."

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

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

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

Lucifer nods slightly.

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

"Alastor, what are you-"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Sleep well, Al."

I just thought of a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad au where during Umbara it’s Rex that’s injured and he’s begging Kix to leave him behind so Kix can keep outrunning the tanks. And Kix still tells Rex he sounds like General Krell but he’s more frustrated and afraid than angry. Kix manages to group Rex with the rest of the wounded and Rex orders Kix to leave them behind and initially Kix is like no Fucking way I’m leaving you all out here but Rex reasons with him that he’s the only medic with the company right now and he had to keep moving with the group and Rex would keep an eye on and defend the rest of the wounded. At this point Kix knows he’s right so he leaves with them with a bunch of supplies and keeps going with Torrent. At the end of the battle when their recovering everyone’s like oh Kriff where’s Rex?! Did we loose him?! Is he dead?! And Kix speaks up and tells them he’s with the wounded, which spurts Fives and company to try and go back and look for them but in the name of progress and sacrifice Krell forbids it. He temporarily promotes Jesse to captain because i think at the time he was Rex’s lieutenant but mostly because Krell liked Jesse’s attitude more than he liked Five’s. The rest of the arc continues the way it originally did but with Jesse and fives at the lead. Meanwhile, Rex and like 25 other troops are lost in a foreign environment in the center of hostile territory on a planet far from any republic system, dwindling rations and medical supplies trying their best to live off the land for weeks. Rex had found a cave for the men to hide out in and made a camp there. Since he’s the captain and one of the least injured he goes out trying to locate and contact the gar while finding food and supplies. Between encounters with natural predators and Umbaran squads he always comes back more injured than he left. At this time Anakin gets back and he’s also like umm where’s Rex?? When the 501st tells him what happened he’s pissed and immediately goes out into the jungle to find Rex. And he does, just in time too because Rex had gotten his legs caught in a trap and was too injured to walk or fight and was surrounded by enemy Umbarans. Rex and the others wounded are rescued and get shipped of to a medical station for a while. When they get back hella comfort ensues and torrent is never letting Rex out of their sight again. Over the next few months however it’s clear that Rex has developed a significant amount of trauma and ptsd from the experience and is finding it hard to integrate back into and function within the gar.