Salamander

So this isn't really Star Wars, but this is a writing acc so get recked

Nobody talks about how it feels as though my body is ripping itself to sheads, how it's a prison of the max capacity, how I can't ever escape alive as its my only vessel to this world, nobody ever talks about

How my muscles are sore and my bones ache

Everyone older tells me I'm too young for this pain, how there's no way I'm hurting that bad, I'm only × years old; how I wish they were right, how I wish I was exaggerating this for attention or something,

But alas, my muscles are so sore, my bones, how they ache

I pop pill after pill, not of addiction, but because it's the only way I can feel some semblance of normalcy; blue, white, pink, they're all the same and they'll all wear off, reminding me of this prison I was born in

God my muscles are sore, my bones are aching

I tell myself "a hysterectomy will fix this" but deep down I know, nothing ever will, I'll spend the rest of my life on various medicines that's all only a temporary fix, burdening my loved ones until the day the prison finally let's out or I give up and break out; yet my damned will to live is too strong to break out

But damn,

Read: here

Author: @akingnotaprincess

Fandom: Star Wars

Pairing: Crosshair/Tech

Notes: Gift for @liltardis for @clone-exchange . Sorry it's late!

Summary: erasure

[ih-rey-sher]

noun.

the act of removing, deleting, or completely destroying something written, recorded, or remembered.

Happy Clone Exchange @akingnotaprincess! I got you as my giftee!

You gave SO many good prompts, it was hard to choose! But I landed on some soft post-mission cuddles with our lovely boys Wrecker, Tech, and Echo! Wrecker takes his job as 'part of the pillow nest for his two favorite brains' very seriously— which is pretty easy because he's practically the size of both of them combined.

Summer gift for @binkyisonline !

This was a but shorter than my usual stuff, I'm probably gonna go on a small hiatus after this, but I will be back (William afton ref anyone?)

This was written as my part of the @clone-exchange summer exchange! I hope you enjoy!!

Echo woke up in fright, his heart racing, breathing more of a pant. His eyes darted around the lazily lit room as he raised his arm to see.. a hand. He signed in relief before feeling the cold metal of said hand, his heart sank. It wasn't a nightmare. It was real. But just before he could start his spiral, a voice more akin to silk than actual sound cut through his panic, a strong warm hand rested on his arm as the connecting body spoke

"Same dream again, cyare?"

Echo whipped around to him, tears filling his eyes

"Wait but if you're.. then how.."

Five snorted and rustled Echo's slow growing hair as he sat down on the bed next to him, curling the fellow arc into a cuddle

"It was all fake, so Fox and I could warn other clones, remember? He never actually hurt me."

Echo sighed and looked up at the other arc. The Pabu sun had done him wonders. He looked far more alive than he ever did running missions in the GAR. His arms were toned from manual labor on the island, his voice a bit deeper from the amount of whisky he now consumed, the island fit him.

"Now, are you going to lay here and keep panicking, or are we hitting that festival?"

"The festival?"

"Yeah? With all the funky foods and fireworks.. I also heard there's cocktails.. so get the kark up already!"

Both men were laughing as Fives dragged Echo out of the bed; he tenderly helped the cyborg attach his prosthetic legs and then helped him dress in comfortable shorts and a tank top, not bothering with shoes.

When they exited the little hut, the streets were already decorated to the nines with streamers and balloons. Children's giggles filled the air as they ran past them with pinwheels and sparklers.

Echo snorted as a stray pinwheel loged itself in the collar of Five's shirt, causing the ARC to flail a bit in an attempt to remove the toy and return it to the sniffling child who lost their grip of it.

-----------------------------------☆~♡~☆-------------------------------------

As the evening went on, Fives dragged Echo up to a secluded ledge on the mountain, once they were settled he plopped a drink in Echo's hand, making the other arc snort

“Haven't we drank enough already?”

“It's summer, no such thing”

He snuggled closer to the cyborg, Echo patting his head softly as he planted a gentle kiss on his forehead

“You didn't even know what summer was before Rex brought you here”

“And now that I do, it's the best thing ever”

They smiled at one another as they sipped their cocktails, Fives’ being more alcohol forward, Echo's being a bit more balanced. Before much longer the sun had sunk below the horizon and the first few fireworks launched into the sky, exploding in beautiful hues of blue and green.

the inside of his helmet still smells of rain water that he collected to stay alive. no matter how much he cleans his helmet, it lingers. he has to smell it every time he puts his helmet on, a reminder of what he went through.

he can't eat fish, nor seefood as a whole. raw fish after raw fish, over and over, uncooked too. he struggles to adjust on Pabu, given that seafood makes up for a lot of their diet. he often eats alone, small meals, struggling to stomach them.

the sound of storms can sometimes trigger him. soaking wet, arms wrapped around his knees, no shelter as the rain comes hammering down, and the sea crashes around him. he just has to wait it out. shivering, trying to stay alive. is all this even worth it?

its quite ironic that Crosshair retired on Pabu, surrounded by the sea. the sounds, the smells. so many small reminders of a time long ago.

the inside of his helmet still smells of rain water that he collected to stay alive. no matter how much he cleans his helmet, it lingers. he has to smell it every time he puts his helmet on, a reminder of what he went through.

he can't eat fish, nor seefood as a whole. raw fish after raw fish, over and over, uncooked too. he struggles to adjust on Pabu, given that seafood makes up for a lot of their diet. he often eats alone, small meals, struggling to stomach them.

the sound of storms can sometimes trigger him. soaking wet, arms wrapped around his knees, no shelter as the rain comes hammering down, and the sea crashes around him. he just has to wait it out. shivering, trying to stay alive. is all this even worth it?

its quite ironic that Crosshair retired on Pabu, surrounded by the sea. the sounds, the smells. so many small reminders of a time long ago.

⬜️ taken

late night thoughts