#prompt batch 1

[star-vibing-prompts]

☆Some random ass prompts☆

Feel free to change the pronouns and stuff! Feel free to credit me or something, I don't really care???? Just make sure to claim them as your own.

Also maybe '@' me if you use these! I wanna see what y'all do!<3

"Who said you can have her? If you want her, you'll have to go through me!" "...disappointing but fine."

A is pregnant and B is dead. How is B dead? Who knows? However A is stressed and is still grieving for B. How does the child birth go? Who knows? All up to you.

B invites A to a midnight dinner to discuss some important matters and just what are these important matters that got A all horrified and shocked?

"Hmm...I guess it could work, but will it really?" "I don't know, I'm just going with my gut here." ".....we're all gonna die....."

"I will bite you!" "Oh fuck you!" "...the sexual tension between those two is unreal holy fuck.."

"Hey mama? What's papa doing?" "Your father is being stupid but at this point, I'm used to it." "Is that how you guys met? Him being silly?" "Haha, yes little one. Indeed so."

A is a bit chaotically unhinged and B is a tired workaholic that wants A to calm down for a second so B can confess their feelings to A.

A and B are dating and are planning on getting married very soon, however, C has been feeling very lonely since the two first started dated so they want to join in on the relationship but aren't sure how to bring it up to the two without sounding creepy or awkward or desperate.

C and B are snuggling and A joins in on the snuggling session. Poly ships go brrr!!!

^^^ "Who knew A can be this affectionate when snuggling, huh?" "Haha yeah." "I can hear you y'know? So shut up and let me enjoy this."

Smut prompts! (Read at your own risk)

"Mmm..that's it baby~ just moan for me and me only~"

"Aww~ you're so cute. Do you want your daddy to give you a reward for being such a good girl?~"

"Me. You. Bed. Now."

"Oh? You like it when I bite? Why didn't you say so sooner?"

A is horny as fuck and is usually the dominant one in the relationship but tonight B is horny as fuck and decides to show A how much of a dominant person they really can be.

^^^ A is so into that shit.

B wants to spend quality type with A privately but A is always at work so when they finally have a day off, B had decorated the room to "set the mood". Does A like it or not? All up to you.

B's boss comes to visit B and A, however, he ends up flirting with A while B is fuming with jealousy. However, B easily scoops A and starts aggressively making out with A to prove and show B's boss that A belongs to them only.

"I will fuck you so hard that you won't be able to walk for a few months! Understand?" "Mm kinky. Why not do it right here and now then babe?~"

"What the fuck are you?" "I'm a sex worker." "..oh-" "Got a problem with that?" "No...but can you fuck me?" "Heh, if that's what you want~"

Yandere prompts!

"You belong to me only darling!"

A shy innocent looking yandere x A tired asf college student

"Aww,,you're so cute and gorgeous when you are all dolled up like this! What's the occasion? You aren't going with that BITCH are you?"

"I love you! I love you! I love you! Wait- hold on- why aren't you saying it back? You do love me back right?" "O- Of course! I lo- I love you too." "Yay! But why are you crying? Who hurt you?!"

A emotionless yandere x A bright sunshine

A is a yandere and practically forced B into a relationship with them by using their secrets and loved ones against them. B is absolutely fucking miserable and probably beyond broken and saving (emotionally wise)

A werewolf yandere x A vampire

"Whoever said you can't leave? You can leave but all you gotta do is tell me where you're going on what day and at what time! Okay love?"

"No! You must stay with me! It's the only way that I can be truly happy! Please! I'm begging you! I love--no--I - I must love you!"

"I promise I'll always be with you but...you gave me no choice, I had to. I had to protect you from him. I'm sorry my love."

[99aceace]

Another entry for @summer-of-bad-batch

Week 1. Alternate prompt: Late Night Beach Walks

Crosshair is leaving soon to get a prosthetic hand. But before he has to say goodbye to his 2 favorite family members - Omega and Batcher.

[blackseafoam]

For @weekly-star-wars-prompts first prompt! “clone karaoke”

From my Bad Batch / Red Dead Redemption crossover. Omega and Wrecker having a lil jam session (with Gonky the beagle too)!

[snitchcrimsonwrites]

Summer of the Bad Batch 2025- Week 1 Bonus Prompt

Banner by @totallywizard07

Week 1 Bonus Prompt: "It's too early for this."

Characters: Tech x Reader ft. Hunter, Echo, Wrecker

Tech speaks Mando'a and brotherly teasing ensues.

@summer-of-bad-batch-reblogs @summer-of-bad-batch

The Marauder flew through hyperspace, returning from a mission with coordinates aimed at Ord Mantell. The weapons drop went smoothly, with only a slight hiccup. That bounty hunter had it coming, anyway. Now, the crew found themselves in that fleeting moment when the distinction between evening and morning faded, blurring together as they wrapped up one mission and prepared for the next. The adrenaline from their last mission was waning, but it wasn't enough for the Batch to fully relax into the early morning. So, here they were, gathered between the ship’s cockpit and the main corridor, each engaged in their routine activities, hopeful that the monotony of checking maintenance logs or restocking rations would lull them into a more relaxed state.      

Tech sat at the table just beyond the cockpit doors, absentmindedly scrolling through the logs on his datapad. You sat beside him, appearing just as absorbed in the book you held as Tech was in his datapad... unless someone was paying close enough attention. You were sitting close, a bit too close. Your bodies leaned slightly into each other’s spaces, close enough that your knees were lightly touching. Your hand rested along the edge of the bench, twitching occasionally with brief, casual movements. Unnoticed. As your hand moves, your fingers occasionally graze against his thigh, initially seeming like an accidental, subconscious movement; at least, that’s how Tech perceived it at first. You did it once, twice, a third time—one occurrence too many for something to be merely coincidental. 

Tech takes note, his attention shifting to the playful intent behind your action. Heart rate slightly elevated above baseline. Pupils dilated. He’d anticipate a minor rise in temperature if he conducted a more thorough reading. All symptoms indicate an increase in physical arousal. This is neither the time nor the place. You ought to know better.

“Not now, cyar’ika,” he responds, hoping to redirect you, his eyes not once leaving the datapad. The word escaped him effortlessly. Familiar. Intimate. Mandalorian.

For half a second, nothing happened. The ship was silent, but the tension in the air rose rapidly as the rest of the Batch’s conscious thoughts caught up with Tech’s words. Wrecker pounds on his chest, trying to force the ration bar he’s choking on down the right pipe. Hunter slowly turns his head toward Tech, as if he just heard something particularly interesting, which he most certainly did. And Echo bolts upright, his gaze fixed on both of you at the table. 

“Say that again?” Echo asks, trying and failing to maintain a straight face.

Tech halted mid-scroll, his posture tightening a bit as he adjusted his goggles with feigned indifference. “I don’t believe repetition is necessary.”

Hunter raised his eyebrow knowingly at Tech. It was too late to backtrack; they had caught it. And what kind of brothers would they be if they didn’t let him know? "Cyar’ika, huh?”

Wrecker grinned a smile that was almost too big for his face to contain. “That’s Mando’a for ‘sweetheart,’ isn’t it? Aww, Tech!”

“It is a relevant cultural reference, denoting affection, loyalty, and a certain level of bond,” Tech clarified quickly, his voice cracking as he tried to maintain his usual level of composure. He paused, reducing his volume now to speak from the corner of his mouth. “One that you have responded positively to in private,” he sidebarred, eliciting a smile from you. 

Wrecker was practically howling with disbelief as he elbowed Echo. "Did ya hear that? A bond. He really does have a soft side!”

“It was never intended for public use,” Tech mumbled quietly, sliding his datapad across the table as if it had betrayed him.

Hunter smirked as he stood up to lean against the back of Tech’s chair with his arms crossed, “I don’t know, I kind of like it. Tech’s got some charm when he forgets to filter himself.” 

“So, do we all get Mando’a nicknames or–?” Echo chimes in, a cheeky smile still plastered on his face, clearly enjoying this way too much. 

Tech groaned, burying his face in the palm of his hand, “It’s far too early for this.” 

Although you relished the rare moment of seeing him flustered, you decided it was time to come to Tech’s ‘rescue.’ Feeling slightly emboldened, you turned from your spot on the bench to face him, resting your hand over his, giving it a gentle squeeze as you leaned in to whisper in his ear. "If it helps, I really enjoyed hearing you say that," you express, placing a gentle kiss on his cheek. 

As your lips made contact with his cheek, his breath hitched slightly, and he let out a soft exhale. Now fully committed, thanks to your positive reinforcement. “Well, if it elicits such a positive reaction, I’ll say it as often as you’d like… cyar’ika.” 

As you drew back, Hunter lightly slapped his brother on the back, as Wrecker let out a low whistle in the background. “Didn’t even flinch, nicely done Tech.” 

You gave his hand one last squeeze before letting go and settled back beside him with a simple comment. “Impressive, Tech.” Tech straightened a bit, adjusted his goggles, and returned to his datapad, feeling quite satisfied with himself. “I had adequate motivation.”

[summer-of-bad-batch]

Question: What would you all think of getting a midweek hint for the following week’s prompt that looks like this…

Hint for Week 1’s Prompts:

Main Prompt:

⬜️⬜️⬜️⬜️⬜️ ⬜️⬜️⬜️ ⬜️⬜️⬜️⬜️⬜️

Alt. Prompt:

“⬜️⬜️⬜️ ⬜️⬜️⬜️ ⬜️⬜️⬜️⬜️ ⬜️⬜️⬜️ ⬜️⬜️⬜️⬜️⬜️”

✨ooooooh✨

Week 1 Prompts Drop Saturday, 6/1/2024

[kybercrystals94]

Shields

Read here on Ao3!

Febuwhump 2024 | Day 18 | Alternate Prompt 1: Human Shield

Rated: G | Words: 730 | Summary: An altercation during training leads to dissension in the Batch. [Character Focus: Tech, Crosshair, Wrecker, Hunter]

“Why can’t you keep your mouth shut once in a while?” Crosshair asked, shoving roughly into Tech as they went into their barracks.

Tech staggered a step under the unexpected impact and righted his goggles that went askew. “Had I known that the regs would respond violently to my observation, I can assure you that I would have kept my thoughts to myself.”

“When have they not responded violently to you correcting them?” Wrecker grumbled.

Tech was not quite ready to concede the point, although his face burned with chagrin. “I thought that it was in our best interest to tell them the mistake they were making with the wiring. Otherwise, we might have lost marks.”

“Instead, we lost marks and got disciplinary action for causing a brawl,” Crosshair snapped, tossing his training helmet onto his bed and beginning to strip out of his armor. “Not to mention, Wrecker’s nose now looks like a meiloorun.”

“It does not!” Wrecker cried, covering his nose with both hands.

“I did not ask either of you to fight the regs in my defense,” Tech muttered. “If you had not intervened…”

“You’d probably be in medical,” Crosshair interrupted bitterly.

“I could have handled it,” Tech argued. “At the very least, I would have been the only one facing disciplinary measures, along with any regs that were involved.”

“You hear that, Wrecker? Tech doesn’t need us as his human shields anymore. He can handle the regs all on his own.”

“I am not saying I don’t appreciate your assistance, only your interference in this case escalated the situation far beyond what was necessary.”

“You’ve got a weird way of saying thank you,” Crosshair said, grabbing the med kit and pulling out an instant cooling pack. He activated it before tossing it to Wrecker.

“I had the situation under control.”

“You did not! That reg immediately swung at you, and if Wrecker hadn’t stepped in, you’d be trying to fix your kriffing goggles right now.”

Tech stopped removing his armor and stood up. “I am just as capable—”

“Save the speech, I don’t want to hear it,” Crosshair cut him off.

Tech knew it was not physically possible, but felt as though his blood had begun to boil in his veins. He snatched up his discarded armor and clipped it back into place. He started for the door.

“Where are you going?” Wrecker asked behind the cooling pack pressed against his nose.

“Out,” Tech said, and marched out of the barracks without looking back.

<<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>>

It was Hunter that found him, which didn’t surprise Tech in the slightest.

Tech did not look up from the practice droid he was dismantling, even as Hunter sat down next to him at the work table. “Rough day?”

“One I could have easily prevented,” Tech said, “On several accounts, had I been given the opportunity.”

“You really think so?”

“I do.” Tech tossed aside a piece of bad wire, grabbed a spool of new, snipped off a measured portion, and started the process of reattaching it. “Our brothers don’t seem to realize that not every confrontation need end in a physical altercation.”

“If I understood the story, the regs took the first swing,” Hunter countered softly.

Tech shrugged. “Then they would have been at fault. Our trainers would have observed the situation and handled it accordingly.”

Hunter smiled. “So you would’ve taken a punch to get the regs in trouble?”

“The attempt seemed worth it. Wrecker and Crosshair thought otherwise.”

“I doubt they were thinking.”

“True.” Tech grinned in spite of himself.

Hunter said, “But they’re always going to stand up for you or me or each other. They’re not just gonna stand by. It’s what you’d do too, if the situation were reversed.”

Tech frowned. “This is also true.”

“But I think you’re right,” Hunter continued and knocked his shoulder into Tech’s, “We should give this diplomacy thing a try…but maybe without antagonizing the regs into taking a swing, huh?”

“That was not my intention,” Tech sighed.

Hunter chuckled. “I know, but I say we lose the marks next time. Let the trainers tell ‘em what they did wrong.

“I suppose.”

Hunter clapped Tech on the shoulder and stood up. “C’mon, it’s time for late meal. We gotta keep those two hot heads we call brothers in check or they’re gonna end up in solitary for the night.”

END

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[jedi-lothwolf]

Febuwhump Day 1: Pick Who Dies (Alt Prompt 3)

Fandom: The Bad Batch

Summary: After the batch is captured, Crosshair makes Hunter choose between his batchmates. Kamino never looked so cold.

    The training facilities on Kamino were one of the only places on the watery planet the Bad Batch had ever liked. However after being captured by the empire and brought to the citadel training simulator, Hunter wasn't so sure they would have that same safe feeling they used to in building. Crosshair stood on a platform with his rifle off to his side.

    Hunter looked around Wrecker and Tech were off to his left and Echo stood in his right. "Bring them here." Crosshair said as he stepped off the platform, rifle in hands. "Leave Hunter."

    The soldiers took the clones a few feet in front of Hunter, made them face their Sargent and forced them to their knees. Echo looked uncomfortable with his legs under him. "What is this?" Hunter inquired.

    "Sometimes the leader has to make hard decisions." Hunter didn't say anything about his statement. Hard decisions were decisions he was used to making. "You have to choose."

    "Choose what?" Hunter asked uneasy. His eyes flashed over his batch as he made sure they were okay.

    "Pick who dies, Hunter." His words were full of malice.

    Wrecker looked around. "What the hell?" Echo and Tech looked at each other quickly before looking back at Hunter who looked surprised.

    "No. No one is dying." There was an unsettling worry in his voice that made the others nervous.

    Waking closer to Hunter, Crosshair smiled at a sickening smile. "It's that or they all die. Come on Sargent, pick."

    Remaining silent, Hunter looked past Crosshair to the rest of his team. There was no way he could choose between his batch. Even if Echo had only joined them a year or so ago, he wouldn't dare betray him. He was family just like the rest of them.

    Getting more and more uneasy, Wrecker started to stir. "This isn't funny Crosshair." He chuckled.

    "Oh, I didn't know it was supposed to be."

    Tech was the first one to realize he truly meant for Hunter to pick between them. The consequences of not picking someone to die may be grave for all of them. There were few words to put the thought into that Tech could even think of forming. With a distressed voice he voiced his concern. "Hunter, I do not believe he is lying."

    Looking at Tech, the others saw the betrayal in their brothers eyes. It was always hard to know how Tech was feeling but right now all the hurt he had been carrying around reflected on his face and skin. Reality settled into their minds.

    Closing his eyes, Hunter tried to figure out what to do.

    "You can't be serious." Wrecker yelled.

    "This isn't you, Crosshair." Echo sighed. "Who's orders are you following?"

    "My own."

    Opening his eyes Hunter stared at the man who was supposed to be his brother. "What?"

    "This is my own plan. I will break you for your betrayal." Crosshair was standing face to face with Hunter now.

    "You." He snarled, angry at what the imperial said.

    With a heavy sigh the sniper punched Hunter who fell back into the soldiers that were supposed to hold him still. They shoved him to the ground where he stayed. "Wrong one."

    "Me."

    Hunter's words hung heavy in the air.  The rest of the batch looked at each other, trying to come up with a plan.

    Crosshair grabbed Hunter's face. He tried to get away from him but his fingers dug into his chin and cheeks. "You know exactly who I mean." Trowing his face out of his hand he turned to the batch. "Pick before I kill them all."

    Grabbing the soldier behind him, Wrecker tossed him over himself before standing. Before he could react the man had a gun slammed over his head. Blood ran down his face as he tried to look back up at his brothers.

    Before anyone else could move, guns were placed at the back of their heads.

    "Choose Hunter!"

    "I can't. You know I can't. Give it up." Hunter noticed his body didn't seem to want to breathe.

    "Remove Echo. It's too easy if he is part of the equation. Let's make sure this hurts." The soldiers dragged him away from the other two. However he didn't go without a fight. While he didn't escape, the effort was appreciated by the other two members of the batch.

    "Let's talk." Echo tried to make peace. "This isn't what you want to do."

    Ignoring him, Crosshair kept his attention on his eldest brother. "Ten."

    "What?"

    "Nine."

    "Stop that."

    "Eight."

    Trying to get up, the soldier behind Hunter grabbed his hair and shoulder and forced him to stay in place.

    "Seven."

    "Crosshair stop!" Wrecker yelled out.

    "Six." He hist.

    "Enough."

    "Five."

    "Counting is childish. Stop this." Tech added.

    "Four."

    The number was at the end of Crosshair's CT number, Ct-9904.

    "Three."

    The end of Wrecker's. Was that all they were to Crosshair now? Numbers and enemies to be killed off?

    "Two."

    The end of Tech's CT. "Stop!" Hunter yelled shaking. "Stop!"

    "One."

    The end of Hunter's. Sometimes the leader has to make hard decisions. That was his job as a sargent.

    "Okay!" Hunter's voice broke into something of a sob. The noise rang through the training corridor as he realized he was right about it becoming a place he would hate to think of. "Okay."

    There was a pause as they tried to figure out who would die that day. "Hunter?" Wrecker asked quietly.

    "Kill me." Hunter pleaded one last time. "The leader makes the hard decisions. Leaders put their team first."

    Shaking his head, Crosshair smiled. "I know." There was a moment of silence before he spoke again. "Kill them both." He said.

    "Tech!" Hunter screamed. "I'm sorry. I can't-" before you can finish speaking he broke into sobs that made anything else unable to be understood.

    Closing his eyes for a moment, Tech took a deep breath. "It's alright." Everyone was startled at Hunter's decision.

    The room was nearly silent. No one moved nor did they dare to. All that could be heard was the sound of Hunter's cries. It was impossible to breathe.

    In the stillness a door opened. Omega took advantage of the distracting situation to shoot at the soldiers holding her brothers. Surprised they fired back at her.

    Despite the noise, Hunter couldn't look up. There was hope for them now and it all started with a little girl they were yet to understand how she had changed them.

    Fighting back, Wrecker and Echo were able to get up. The stronger of the two got their handcuffs off of them. Tech followed and slammed his arm into a soldier's leg. Then he went over to record to also get his handcuffs removed. The men took their guns and stunned the rest of the soldiers, including Crosshair.

    Walking over to Hunter who was yet to move, Tech kneeled down to him. "It's okay." He put a hand on his shoulder. "I understand."

    Still sobbing, Hunter looked up at Tech. "I'm so sorry." There was no look of hate or anger in Tech's eyes.  Somehow that made it worse; the fact that he could accept Hunter choosing him to die without any anger.

    Grabbing him and pulling him close, Tech tried to console his brother. While he did you hurt he understood the gravity of the situation and the thoughts that could go into choosing him to be killed.

    "What happened." Omega asked distressed.

    "You don't wanna know kid." Wrecker said quietly.

    "We have to go. Wrecker, grab him." Echo spoke quickly.

    Trying to stand Hunter let go of Tech. However, he couldn't seem to get on his head. It was hard to understand why he couldn't pull himself to his feet. He hadn't been hurt so it had to be the mental destress that he was facing. Wrecker grabbed him and helped him walk for a while.

    As the batch got to the Maurader, they understood that Crosshair got what he wanted for Hunter. Their brother had broken him in a way that didn't know how to fix. He had placed a small distrust in Tech and an uneasy feeling over the entire family. It would take a while to heal for the situation he had so willingly put them in. With a shattered sergeant and his betrayed men, they left Kamino with one less room they had the ability to trust before the end of the war.

[omegafett99]

Whumptober week one

Whumptober 2024 - Week 1 - Prompt: Race Against the Clock / Search Party

Fan-Fic below the cut.

Omega panted as she ran across the hallways of tantiss, stormtroopers close behind her, as she turned the corner, she was faced with the doctor.

"now now Omega" Hemlock Drawled "it's only a matter of time before reinforcements arrive”

“No!” Omega screamed “I heard the sirens, they came for me!” 

“Yes, they came, but were quickly outnumbered. We will dispose of them shortly if they prove” he paused “purposeless” 

Stormtroopers rounded the corner and grabbed Omega, the small clone struggling against the bonds they put on her wrists, “I am glad you’re here now, i can finally show the emperor how valuable you truly are”

Her face paled as the stormtroopers led her to a new cell, on the way, she spotted Hunter and Wrecker in separate cells not to far away from Crosshair’s “Hunter!” 

Omega cried as she tore away from the troopers holding her and sprinted to his cell, Collapsing to her knees and grabbing the bars as well as she could with the binders on.

“Omega!” Hunter yelled in surprise, running to the bars of his cell, Wrecker rushing to his as well to see her.

“What are you doing? You need to go! The emperor will get here any minute!” Hunter stood up protectively as stormtroopers closed in on Omega, grabbing her 

“No!” Omega Screamed and kicked as they dragged her away “Hunter! Help!” Omega froze as a chill ran through the hallway. 

“Whoops” Hemlock grinned “Looks like you’re out of time” 

“Omega look out!” Wrecker yelled, pointing behind her, Omega twisted in the trooper's grasp and saw him.

The Emperor. His hooded cloak concealing his face, his mouth contorting into a twisted grin as the troopers holding her rushed forward, dropping her at his feet.

Omega cried out as she fell, not being able to stop her fall because of the binders.

 As she shakily got up, she glanced over her shoulder to Hunter, but out of the corner of her eye she saw Crosshair shaking his head. 

Don't mess with this guy he meant.

As she looked back to Palpatine, she felt a blast of cold energy thrust through her, pushing her of her feet, and the only thing she heard before passing out was Hunter crying out her name.

Comment if you want to be on my tag-list!

@kybercrystals94

[tbb-appreciation-week]

(Image text and NSFW prompt below the cut)

THE DAY HAS ARRIVED!!! THE BAD BATCH APPRECIATION WEEK 2024 IS HERE!!! For the next 7 days, we'll celebrate and appreciate our favorite clone squad! Do you want to explore what happened between seasons? Is there something you wish the show had fleshed out more? This is the chance to do it yourself!

~

TAGS FOR TODAY. Use those that are relevant to your work only.

#tbbaw2024 #the bad batch appreciation week 2024 #don't miss a thing #missing scene #"will you wait for me?" #quinlan vos #[nsfw prompt] #fanfic #fanart #gifset #[or any other medium] #[trigger warnings] #nsfw #[any other relevant tags]

And for those who cross-post to the collection on Ao3: Don't forget to add The Bad Batch Appreciation Week as an Additional tag!!

DAY 1: Don't Miss a Thing

Missing Scene

"Will you wait for me?"

Quinlan Vos

Palette: #51E5FF, #440381, #EC368D, #FFA5A5, #FFD6C0

(NSFW) Almost getting caught

[gun-roswell]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Star Wars: The Bad Batch (Cartoon), Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types, Star Wars - All Media Types Rating: General Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Clone Force 99 | Bad Batch (Star Wars) Characters: CT-9902 | Tech, CT-9901 | Hunter, CT-9903 | Wrecker, CT-9904 | Crosshair Additional Tags: ndtech2024, Neurodivergent CT-9902 | Tech, fan event, prompts, Cadet AU, Team Dynamics, Verbal Insults vs Fisticuffs, Ficlet Series: Part 1 of Neurodivergent Tech Week, Part 11 of Clone Cadet AU Summary:

The days before launching into the war, the days of the cadet batchers.

 Fan Event: neurodivergent-tech-week.tumblr.com: DAY 1
: The Cadet Batch

Part of Neurodivergent Tech Week Prompts / Star Wars Clone Cadet AU Series

@neurodivergent-tech-week​

[waywardsou2]

Summer of Bad Batch 2024

For those of you in the Bad Batch community who don't know @kybercrystals94 created the Summer of Bad Batch event. I have decided that I will participate and considering it's my first fandom event I'm going to do my best to join in on the fun. This will be my master post for all of my content to verify my work and just keep track of what I've done so far.

Week 1

Prompt: Water Gun fight

Water Gun fight pt. 2

Alt Prompt: "It's not what you think"

Week 2

Prompt: Injured

Injured pt. 2

Alt Prompt: Comfort Zone

Bonus Prompt

Bonus prompt: "Can you braid my hair?"

Week 3

Prompt: "It's just a scratch"

Alt Prompt: "Forget I asked"

Week 4

Prompt: Cadets

Alt Prompt: "You really think you're going without me? Not going to happen"

Week 5

Prompt: "You're a bad liar"

Alt Prompt: "Need a hand?"

Week 6

Prompt: Battle Scars

Alt Prompt: "Get out of my room!"

Week 7

Prompt: "Don't avoid the question"

Alt Prompt: Getting a Haircut

Week 8

Prompt: Swimming Lessons

Alt Prompt: Lula

Week 9

Prompt: "Hold Still"

Alt Prompt: Stargazing

Week 10

Prompt: Hugs

Alt Prompt: "Just when were you planning on telling us that?"

Week 11

Prompt: "I didn't think we would get this far"

Alt Prompt: "Yeah, kid, were fine"

Week 12

Prompt: Nightmares

Alt Prompt: Radio Silence

Week 13

Prompt: "Stop touching me" // "I'm not touching you"

Alt Prompt: Crashing Hard

Bonus Prompt

Light in Darkness

Final Statistics: link

[crescentfool]

doing things outside of your usual is such a humbling experience...

[fanfictasia]

Whumpuary Prompt 1

 Captivity / Secrets Revealed 

Spoiler: This is an excerpt from The Nighttme Fear

“Tech, check our comm channel,” Hunter requests. Doesn’t know why, but he thinks something is…

Their comm beeps, right on cue.

The Force feels tense. Hunter’s freezing.

“It’s Crosshair’s comm channel,” Tech says quietly.

Oh, Force. “Answer,” he requests, though he doesn’t want to.

Tech settles into the pilot seat, and Hunter grips the back of his chair hard enough that his knuckles turn white.

There is no bracing himself for this. There’s only doing it, and trying to recover afterwards.

He’s definitely not ready to see the hologram, of Crosshair dressed in the same black uniform that he was wearing in Hunter’s dream, and the lightsaber pressed to the little girl’s neck. Hunter thinks she’s crying. It’s a hologram though, so it’s hard to tell.

“Clone Force 99,” he purrs, “I’m here to offer you an ultimatum.”

“Whatever it is, the answer’s no,” Wrecker snarls, jerking forwards, rage and hurt pouring into the Force in waves. Hunter feels it as his heartbeat spikes with his anger.

“I doubt that,” Crosshair hisses, “Unless you’d prefer I cut your sister’s head off.”

“What sister?” Tech demands, “We do not have any.”

“Or, so the Kaminoans told us,” Crosshair replies, “I came back to Kamino. She came right to me. She’s been looking for you for a long time.” His tone makes Hunter’s skin crawl. He’s furious. He means what he’s saying. He’s going to hurt her. “She’s loyal,” Crosshair continues, “More than you ever have been.”

“What do you want, Crosshair?” Hunter demands, because he can’t just listen to this. “Come here to Kamino,” Crosshair tells him bluntly, “Turn yourselves over to Imperial custody, and I’ll let Omega live.”

Omega. That’s her name. Somehow, hearing that makes her even more meaningful. Our brothers, she had said, and Hunter knows he’s not lying. He wishes he was. Probably, that’s what Crosshair’s point was.

“And before you turn this into a rescue operation,” Crosshair continues, “This is Kamino. You don’t have a chance. I’ll give you two rotations.” He cuts the transmission before any of them can react.

[aleksatia]

Possession, Obsession, Devotion: A Study in Five Men

Nope, I haven’t vanished. Super grateful for all your messages and the sweet support — seriously, thank you. Just swamped with work right now, so writing’s slowed down a bit. Still working on your requests, I promise! And I’m knee-deep in a pretty massive, emotionally wrecking angst based on a Songfic prompt. While that one’s cooking, I thought I’d drop another batch of my random writer notes — all bundled up in one chaotic little post.

CW/TW: Headcanons, Possessive Behavior, Obsessive Love, Jealousy, Power Imbalance, Toxic Romance, Red Flags Treated as Romance, Intimacy with Control Undertones, Emotional Manipulation (Mild), Dubious Coping Mechanisms, Intense Emotional Dependency, Suggestive Themes, Mild Sexual Content, Unhealthy Attachment Framed as Devotion Genre: Romance-Infused, Erotically-Charged Drabbles with a Generous Side of Fluff Words Count: 8.6K

5 Petty Jealousies That Reveal Just How Much Caleb’s Obsessed With You

1. You call another man “handsome” — even as a joke. You were teasing. Flirting, in that harmless, breezy way of yours. Caleb laughed. Then immediately kissed you like he needed to reassert territorial dominance with tongue and body weight. Funny how your jokes always end with your back against the wall and his hand on your throat. Lovingly.

2. You go to someone else for help instead of him. You needed tech support. A charger. Help moving the couch. And instead of calling your six-foot-two, military-trained, emotionally unstable boyfriend — you asked Xavier. Caleb didn’t say anything. Just stood in the doorway, watching, calculating how long it would take to move the entire solar system to make sure you never do that again.

3. You don’t sit on his lap when there’s clearly space.You chose the chair. Next to him. Not on him. He’s not mad. No, no. He's just questioning the entire fabric of your connection and whether you’ve lost all sense of instinct. And when you finally realize and climb into his lap? He sighs like a man being restored to life.

4. You post a photo where you're not touching him.Nice shot. Great lighting. Cute outfit. But why is he two feet away and not glued to your side like a shadow with military clearance? His arm belongs around your waist. His hand belongs on your thigh. And your caption? Should’ve been his name, followed by a possessive noun.

5. You forget to wear his dog tags. He left them for you. Carefully. On your nightstand. The same tags he’s worn through hell. And you? Walked out the door wearing a cute sweater and nothing that says “belonging to Colonel Caleb.” He’ll never say a word. He’ll just strip you slow the second you get home and fasten them back around your neck himself. With teeth.

5 Lies Caleb Tells Himself About You

1. “I don’t care that she uses my toothbrush.”You could take a fresh one. You don’t. You reach for his, same as always — like that handle belongs to you more than to him. He mutters something about germs. Then watches you rinse with that smug little smile. And later, when you're asleep, he moves it back to your side of the sink. Right where you like it.

2. “She can wear whatever she wants.”And you do. His shirt. His flight jacket. That tiny black top you swear is “practical.” He acts unbothered. Says nothing. But the second someone else looks too long? He stands behind you. One hand on your waist. That casual kind of possessive that feels like a warning wrapped in warmth.

3. “I don’t need her to text me when she gets home.”You’re a grown woman. A Hunter. You’ve neutralized things with more teeth than common sense. You say “Don’t wait up.” He says “Sure.” Then checks his phone every ten minutes like it's a heartbeat monitor and he's waiting to hear yours again.

4. “It’s fine if she flirts. I know it’s harmless.”You’re charming. It’s part of who you are. You wink. Smile. Lean in a little too close. Caleb plays it cool. Says, “She’s always like that.” Then grabs your waist in front of everyone and whispers: “Try that again, and I’ll fuck you so hard next time you won’t remember anyone else’s name.”

5. “She doesn’t need to say she loves me every day.”You say it once. In passing. A low little “love you” as you walk away, like it’s nothing. But he hears it like an oath. And that night? He holds your hand a little tighter. Pulls your body a little closer. Not because he needs to hear it again. But because if he doesn’t touch you, he might forget how to breathe.

5 Things That Make Him Go Completely Feral (In Lust, Not Rage)

1. Your hair falls in his face. Leaning over him. Stretching across the couch. Just close enough that it brushes his cheek like it has rights. You don’t even notice. But he does. Every time. He doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t move. Just breathes in and lets the world narrow to that one soft, smug part of you.

2. You chew on your thumb when you’re thinking. Not seductively. Not even consciously. Just a tiny bite to the edge of your nail while you’re mid-rant about your latest recon or trying to remember the name of a street vendor. It’s nothing. Stupid. Barely a gesture. And yet — he stares. Tracks it like a countdown. Fists flexing slow. Jaw tight. Because that mouth should never look that innocent.

3. You interrupt him when he’s cooking. He’s focused. Knife in hand. Half-distracted by heat and oil. And then you slide in behind him. Touch his lower back. Squeeze something you shouldn’t. Say “Smells good, chef,” with a grin that makes his whole spine forget how to hold. He curses. Tries to shoo you off. You lick something off his finger. And now dinner’s going to burn.

4. You try on his Fleet cap like it’s a joke. You lift it off the rack. Set it crooked on your head. Salute with two fingers and that smile that once made him fall off a training tower. “Colonel,” you say. And he’s gone. He should laugh. He doesn’t. He walks over, takes it off you slow, and kisses your temple like he’s reassigning you to a very different kind of mission.

5. You say “I’m yours”. Not in bed. Not in public. Just… casually. In passing. In that low voice you only use when something’s real. “I’m yours.”He looks at you like you just disarmed a bomb with your bare hands. And then he ruins you for saying it so lightly.

5 Power Couple Moments That Made Everyone Else Jealous (And a Little Scared)

1. You’re the only one allowed to fly with him in his military jet.Clearance denied. Protocol says no. Regulations triple-confirm it. And yet — you’re in the co-pilot seat, boots up, fingers tracing buttons you’re not supposed to touch. He doesn’t stop you. Someone once asked why you get to ride with him when no one else does. He looked up from the cockpit and said, “She’s my gravity.” End of discussion.

2. You only need to place your hand on his to calm him down.No words. No pleading. No strategic de-escalation. Just your fingers, settling lightly over his, when something in him starts to coil too tight. And just like that — his spine eases. The heat in his eyes lowers by a degree. People have seen him end arguments with three words. They’ve never seen him go silent for anyone but you.

3. You’re the only person he’ll interrupt a briefing for.He’s mid-sentence. Room full of officers. Tactical projections glowing on the wall. His phone buzzes. He glances down, sees your name — and pauses. “Give me five,” he says. And walks out without waiting for permission. Someone once asked who it was.  He said, “The only priority higher than this fleet.”  No one asked again.

4. You walk in on his arm at the Farspace Fleet annual gala.He’s in dress whites. You’re in black. And the room — full of admirals, envoys, diplomats — parts like mist when you enter. He doesn’t introduce you. He doesn’t need to. You’re not just his date. You’re the one who makes him dangerous in silence. And everyone knows it.

5. You don’t need words to communicate.One glance. A tilt of your head. A tiny shift in posture across the room. He’s already moving. Already reading you like mission data. To others, it looks like magic. Intuition. Maybe telepathy. But for you two?  It’s just muscle memory — built from years of almosts, nevers, and finallys.

5 Times Caleb Was a Walking Red Flag But You Loved Him Anyway

1. He pulled the full personnel file on a man you once smiled at.You were being polite. Friendly. The guy asked something harmless, you laughed. By morning, Caleb had his record open on a secure datapad, scrolling like he wasn’t reading a life — just calculating the risk factor. You asked what he was doing. He said, “I like knowing who wants what’s mine.” And then kissed you like he hoped you never asked him to stop.

2. He showed up at your door at 02:03 AM. Soaking wet. Furious. Silent.You missed one message. One. He waited. Thirty minutes. An hour. And then something in him snapped. No threats. No drama. Just the sound of his knock like a warning shot. You opened the door. He didn’t speak. Just stared. And then pulled you in with a grip like survival wasn’t optional anymore.

3. He scared the hell out of a junior pilot for asking your name.The kid was fresh. Eager. Smiled a little too long. Said, “Hey, what should I call you?” You started to answer. Then turned — and saw Caleb across the room. Expression calm. Stance neutral. Eyes loaded. The pilot apologized before you even said a word.

4. He slammed his hand on the table when you joked about breaking up.Just a joke. A throwaway line. Something stupid like “Guess I’ll go find someone less intense.” And his hand hit the surface before the words fully left your mouth. Not loud. Not violent. Just final. He didn’t yell. Didn’t argue. Just looked at you like you’d put a knife in his ribs and smiled about it. You never made that joke again.

5. He called you “dangerous” — and meant it like a vow.It was late. You were arguing. You said something sharp. He caught your wrist and said it low, almost reverent: “You’re dangerous.” But not like an accusation. Like awe. Like worship. Like he’d already decided to stay, even if you wrecked him completely. Even if he’d have to protect the world from you. Or protect you from himself.

5 Petty Jealousies That Reveal Just How Much Zayne’s Obsessed With You

1. Someone else bandaged your scratch. Just a graze. A stupid piece of shrapnel across your forearm. A colleague wrapped it up. No big deal. You came home smiling. Told him it barely hurt. He nodded. Quiet. Then excused himself to the kitchen. Five minutes later, he returned with antiseptic, clean gauze, and the words: “Take it off. I’m doing it properly.”  You didn’t argue. Neither did he. 2. Someone at work lent you their umbrella. A man. It was raining. You forgot yours. He offered. You accepted.  Zayne didn’t say a thing when you mentioned it over dinner. Just hummed. Neutral. The next morning, you found a new umbrella in your bag. Carbon fiber. Windproof. Labeled discreetly with your initials. You didn’t ask how he knew the exact weight your bag could carry without straining your shoulder. 3. You asked the waiter to recommend a wine. It was harmless. Polite. You were curious. But Zayne was sitting right there. He didn’t blink. Just looked at the waiter, then at you. Then took the list back. “Actually,” he said, calm as glass, “she prefers reds with less acidity. I’ll order.” You nodded. The waiter nodded. And somewhere between the clink of glasses, you realized that wasn't about wine at all. 4. You didn’t invite him to your morning training. He’d had a night shift. Surgery ran late. You wanted him to rest. So you left quietly. He woke up to an empty bed, your gym bag missing, and a silence that felt like a closed door. You came back to find his routine disrupted, his pulse still too fast — and a protein shake mixed just how you like it, chilled and waiting on the table. He never mentioned it. But now, if you decide to “let him rest” again… your training starts later. And doesn’t involve clothes. 5. You called another man “smart.” It was a game show. Trivia night. Some stranger on-screen made a clever move. You smiled. “Wow. That was actually really smart.” Zayne didn’t look up from his tablet. Didn’t even shift. But ten minutes later, you found yourself in a very precise debate about probability, strategy, and why that move wasn’t that brilliant after all. You didn’t argue. You just leaned closer. He didn’t smirk, but you felt it anyway.

5 Lies Zayne Tells Himself About You

1. "I’m just your cardiologist during exams." It’s clinical. Professional. Necessary. He listens to your heartbeat, takes your vitals, asks you to breathe deeper — deeper. You unbutton your shirt. He doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t look. Doesn’t feel anything. Except for the part where he adjusts his gloves a little too tightly. And maybe takes one extra second to remove the stethoscope from your skin. 2. "Lunch tastes the same without you." He orders the same thing. Same café. Same tea. But the pastry tastes off. The space feels louder. The table — emptier. He tells himself it’s fine. Then brings the leftovers back to his office. Doesn’t touch them. Just leaves the box where your hand might find it later. 3. "I don’t need to pick you up." It’s logical. You’re a professional. Your job runs over sometimes. So does his. But your message was short. The streetlights are on. The buses are unreliable.  He checks traffic cams. Weather. Public transit delays. Then sits very still, staring at his phone, wondering how to offer you a ride without making it sound like panic. 4. "I’m not checking. I’m sleeping." You once left while he was asleep. You thought it was kinder. Quieter. Now he says he “needed water” or “had a dream.” But every night, at 3 AM, his hand reaches. Just to feel your back. Your wrist. The smallest proof that you haven’t disappeared again. 5. "Short skirts are inefficient." He says they’re impractical. Not suited for cold weather. Definitely not for terrain with hostile wanderer activity. You raise a brow. He adds, “You’re not seventeen. Dress like it.” But the second no one’s watching, his hand is already sliding up your thigh under the table. And when you raise a brow at him, he just says, flat: “Checking for circulation.” You’re not fooled. He’s already failed the mission.

5 Things That Make Zayne Go Completely Feral (In Lust, Not Rage)

1. You straighten his tie. You’re not thinking about it. Just reaching out, adjusting the knot, smoothing the line down his chest like it’s second nature. He stays still. Breath held. Eyes on your face. You step back. He doesn’t. Because now all he can think about is using that same tie to bind your wrists to the chair in his office — and how many minutes he can steal between appointments without compromising your breathing. 2. You dip your finger into the frosting of his pastry. You don’t ask. Just lean in, collect a bit of cream with your fingertip — and taste it. Oblivious. Innocent. Distracted by something else. He watches. Silently. And now the fork in his hand feels criminally unnecessary, because his mouth is dry, his mind’s gone blank, and he’s halfway to pulling you into his lap just to return the favor — with interest. 3. You take off your bra without removing your shirt. It’s casual. Automatic. You’re talking about your day, laughing, and then — One arm out. Then the other. The strap slides through the sleeve and vanishes into your laundry bag like it never existed. His brain glitches. His hands twitch. And he will absolutely spend the rest of the evening pretending to listen while picturing every technical step of reversing that maneuver with his teeth. 4. You imitate him. Badly. You’re wearing his lab coat. His glasses. Sitting at his desk, brows drawn, lips pressed tight. Your impression is awful. He should be annoyed. But instead — he watches. Sharp. Quiet. And when you finally laugh and start to take it off, he gets up. Takes the coat from your shoulders himself. And tells you, too evenly, “You forgot the gloves.” 5. You trace lazy shapes on his wrist while talking about something unrelated. You’re saying something about your neighbor’s cat. Something trivial. But your fingers are moving in a slow, absent pattern across his skin. And Zayne — who has operated on live hearts under pressure, who has held lives in one hand and death in the other — is currently struggling not to grab your wrist and drag you onto the desk. Because apparently, nothing in this galaxy has the precision impact of your fingertip.

5 Power Couple Moments That Made Everyone Else Jealous (And a Little Scared)

1. You have a keycard to his office.Not a guest pass. Not a shared access code. A permanent, personalized, high-level card to a room most staff can’t even knock on without permission. You walked in one day mid-shift, casual, spinning the card between your fingers like it was a hairpin. Three nurses saw. One dropped her tablet. Rumors started before you even closed the door. Zayne didn’t correct them.

2. When he received a prestigious award, the first person he thanked was you.Best cardiothoracic surgeon of the year. Cameras flashing. Applause rising. Everyone expected a speech about innovation and responsibility. Instead, he said: “I’d like to thank the one person who keeps me alive enough to do this work. My partner. My favorite interruption.”Then he looked straight at you. The auditorium melted.

3. You’re both dressed like weapons. And everyone notices.He wears tailored coats, precision-cut collars, charcoal palettes like a tactical signature.You? Heels like blades. A suit that redefines “combat-ready.” And when you walk together — sharp, silent, side by side — people stop talking. Someone once tried to photograph you. The headline read: Unknown dignitaries arrive. Security does not comment.

4. You don’t argue. You duet.Someone crossed a line. Loud, drunk, smug. Zayne responded first — clean, cold, just one sentence long. The man blinked. Started to retort. You finished it for him. Elegant, sharp, no profanity required. He left. Fast. And you turned back to Zayne like nothing happened — while everyone else tried to recover from what could only be described as a linguistic orgasm.

5. He opens doors, buttons coats, and moves chairs like it’s instinct.Not performative. Not flashy. Just… precise. He adjusts your sleeve without thinking. Helps you into the car like it’s always been his hand. You barely register it. But the woman across the street? The one who saw it all from behind her coffee cup? She’s still texting her group chat about “the man in the long coat and the woman who ruined my standards.”

5 Times Zayne Was a Walking Red Flag But You Loved Him Anyway

1. He gets live data from your heart monitor.Your Hunter’s Watch sends updates to the cloud. Zayne rerouted the feed to his private tablet. “Just in case,” he said. Now he knows when your pulse spikes. When you’re injured. When you don’t sleep. You never gave him access. You never had to. The first time he called mid-mission to say “slow your breathing” — you realized he wasn’t tracking. He was watching over.

2. He absolutely hates when you drive. Always.You're capable. Fast. Efficient. And yet — every time you take the wheel, something in him shuts down. He doesn’t argue. Doesn’t protest. Just goes silent. And stares at the road like it personally offended him. He says, “It’s fine.” But he holds the dashboard too tightly for that to be true.

3. He freezes every time you say “I can handle it.”You mean well. You’re strong. You are capable. But when you brush him off with a casual “I’ve got this,” he doesn’t nod. Doesn’t smile. He just stops. Eyes unreadable. Hands still. And when you come back later — even fine — there’s already a backup plan on your datapad. Three versions. In color.

4. He never replies to emotional messages right away.You send: “I miss you. A lot.” His read receipt appears. Then… nothing. For two hours. And just when you start to spiral — he sends a photo. Of your favorite pastry. Waiting on his table. With one word: “Soon.” You hate how well it works. 

5. He spoke to the man flirting with you like he was reviewing his autopsy.It was harmless. A drink. A joke. A compliment. You laughed. Zayne didn’t. He stepped in, shook the man’s hand, and said: "Tell me, has anyone ever checked your prefrontal lobe for impulse control irregularities?"The man left. Quickly. You rolled your eyes. Zayne didn’t apologize. He just took your hand. And changed the subject. Completely calm. Fully satisfied.

5 Petty Jealousies That Reveal Just How Much Rafayel’s Obsessed With You

1. Someone comments “🔥” under your photo — and you like it.He sees it. Of course he does. He sees everything. You think it’s harmless. He thinks it’s appalling that someone dared mark your beauty with an emoji better suited to grilled meat. He says nothing. But that night, you get a charcoal sketch of yourself in your favorite pose, signed with a tiny flame in the corner. When you ask about it, he hums. “Oh, just honoring your admirers’ creative input.”

2. You linger too long in front of another artist’s painting.Not just glance. Linger. Eyes soft. Head tilted. That thoughtful little breath you take when something moves you. He stands beside you, perfectly still. Smiling. Then leans in and whispers, “Cutie, if you start weeping, I may need to challenge the gallery owner to a duel.” You're not sure if he’s joking. You’re also not sure you want him to be.

3. You talk about a beautiful place you visited… without him.You’re glowing. Describing the light, the air, the view. He listens, nods, even asks questions. Then: “And did the sun taste the same without me there?” You pause. He smiles, all charm and cheekbones. “I’m just wondering how it dared rise, knowing we weren’t together.”

4. You send him a photo — and there’s someone else’s hand in the frame.You didn’t notice it. He did. He stares at the image like it’s a crime scene. Zooms in. Later, he replies: “Beautiful composition. Fascinating use of background tension. Would love to discuss the symbolism of that wrist — whose is it?” You laugh. He doesn’t.

5. You say some actor is “exactly your type.”He doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t blink. Just goes very still, then casually asks, “Before or after makeup?” Later, you find your datapad background changed. It’s him. In perfect lighting. Shirt unbuttoned just so. The caption reads: “Still unsure who your type is? Look into my eyes. You’ll remember.”

5 Lies Rafayel Tells Himself About You

1. “I didn’t paint you. It’s just resemblance.”He insists it’s a study of emotion. A symbol. A face from memory. But the tilt of the head, the mouth, the birthmark near the collarbone — they’re all yours. You ask, teasing: “Is that me?” He blinks. Smiles slowly. “Cutie,” he says, “I wouldn’t paint you without permission.” And then changes the subject. Very deliberately.

2. “I don't reread your old messages.”He’s far too elegant for that. Far too composed. Except on quiet nights. On long flights. In museums where the silence scratches at his skin. Then he opens the archive. Just for the rhythm of your words. The accidental poetry. The way you once wrote “come home soon” like it meant more than time and place. He says it’s for “emotional reference.” He lies beautifully.

3. “I don't watch your mouth when you talk.”He’s an artist. A visual thinker. Of course he looks at faces. But not like that. Not at yours. Not like he’s memorizing the shape of every syllable just to feel them later against his throat. Not like he’s fantasizing mid-conversation about shutting you up with his tongue and tasting the sentence off your lips. No. Never. He’s listening.

4. “I haven’t memorized your scent through every season.”He claims not to notice. But he knows the spring version of you — soft rain, citrus skin, the aftershock of lilac. He knows the winter version — leather gloves, cinnamon breath, quiet wool. He doesn’t name them. Doesn’t chase the memory. But when you walk past — his eyes close. Briefly. Automatically. Like he’s gathering air before going under.

5. “I don't imagine your name with mine.”He’s not that romantic. Puh-lease. Marriage is a construct, surnames are politics, and love is beyond paperwork. He says all that with a flourish. And yet — there’s a notebook. Tucked under his mattress. Full of signatures. Yours. His. Just to see how it would look. Just in case.

5 Things That Make Rafayel Go Completely Feral (In Lust, Not Rage)

1. When you eat something juicy. Fruit. Fingers. With zero awareness.You bite into it slowly, distracted. Something sweet. Ripe. Juice glides over your lower lip, and your tongue follows without thinking. He watches, motionless. Not breathing. Not blinking. You glance at him. He tilts his head. Smiles. Says lightly: "That peach is about to become my personal enemy." You laugh. He doesn’t. He’s too busy wondering how it’s possible to be jealous of the fruit.

2. When you kiss his hand instead of his mouth. He leans in, expecting lips. Contact. Heat. And instead — you take his hand. Press a kiss into his palm. Soft. Deliberate. His breath catches. His throat tightens. Because that wasn’t affection. That was submission. And now he’s wondering just how far you’d let him take it. 3. When you tease him with your voice. Not the words. The tone. The whisper. You say his name like silk sliding over glass. You ask “You think so?” like it means “prove it.” You laugh — not loudly, but just enough to make his chest hurt. He could diagram it, break it into sound waves, prove the seduction in math. But instead, he just steps closer. And says, low: "Say that again. Slower." 4. When you sit on the floor, barefoot, flipping through his sketches — looking like you belong there. You’re humming something. Knees tucked up. No shoes. No guard. You tilt your head, study a piece, murmur: “I like this one.” He doesn’t even remember drawing it. He just remembers the way your hair spills over your shoulder and how the studio feels suddenly too small for how much he wants you. He doesn’t touch you. Not yet. He just watches like a starving thing. Memorizing the moment in case he dies of it later. 5. When you say “more.” In any context. “More sugar.” “More time.” “More.” That’s all it takes. One syllable. One open door. You never mean it the way he hears it — but he takes it as a promise. Like permission. Like a match tossed onto something already too dry to survive. And the next time he touches you? He makes damn sure you say it again.

5 Power Couple Moments That Made Everyone Else Jealous (And a Little Scared)

1. He painted a self-portrait — with you reflected in his pupils. Not your full form. Not a shared composition. Just his face. Direct gaze. And in both eyes: you. Looking at him. Always. When the painting debuted in the gallery’s main hall, critics called it “a study in obsession.” He called it accurate. 2. In an interview, he said you’re the only one who gets his sketches. The host asked who his work goes to first — gallery, agent, press. He smiled lazily and answered, “Her.” The room stilled. “The raw ones. The incomplete. The brutal drafts no one else deserves to see.” He didn’t say your name. He didn’t have to. The moment he said it, you were already trending. 3. He delayed his own exhibition opening because you weren’t there yet. The venue was full. Lights ready. Guests murmuring. But he stood at the entrance, fingers laced behind his back, perfectly calm. “She’s on the way,” he said. “She had a prior engagement.” No one questioned him. Later, when you finally arrived — graceful, composed, in a deep sapphire gown that matched the evening — only he noticed the tiny scratch on your knuckle. The faintest shadow of something darker, just beneath the perfume. You smiled. He took your hand. And the doors opened like they’d been waiting for you all along. 4. Someone flirted with him. He looked at you. Then said: “I’m already spoken for. Permanently.” It was charming. Playful. Someone touched his wrist, laughed softly, leaned a little too close. He didn’t pull away. Didn’t react. Just turned his head toward you. Found your eyes. Then said it — quietly, cleanly, like a closing signature on a finished masterpiece. 5. At a charity auction, he sold a painting titled: “Painted Between Her Breathing and Mine.” The crowd didn’t know what to do with that. Some laughed nervously. Some applauded. The bidding started high and ended astronomical. But as the winning guest walked past you, holding the canvas with reverent hands — he still glanced back. At you. As if to say: That canvas holds the image. But I keep the original.

5 Times Rafayel Was a Walking Red Flag But You Loved Him Anyway

1. He can disappear for three days and return with, “I just needed to stop being jealous.” No warning. No calls. Just silence, like he fell off the planet. You panic. Rage. Rehearse five speeches. And then he walks in — composed, scented like night air and oil paint. “Sorry,” he says softly. “I was being irrational. Had to… recalibrate.” You want to scream. Instead, you breathe him in like he’s home. 2. He destroyed the career of a critic who called your photo “poorly lit.” It wasn’t even a real insult. Just a throwaway line in a blog. But Raf read it. Once. And within a week, that critic was blacklisted from three galleries, publicly corrected by five curators, and accidentally misquoted in a viral controversy. You found out much later. He just looked at you and said, “No one calls shadow a flaw when it falls across you.” 3. He faked an illness so you wouldn’t leave for a mission. Nothing dramatic. Just a cough. A warm forehead. You hesitated. Postponed. Stayed. The next morning, he was radiant. Healthy. Annoyingly smug. You narrowed your eyes. He only shrugged, kissed your wrist, and whispered, “I needed one more night. Forgive the performance.” You did. Of course you did. The guilt felt almost like foreplay. 4. He left your clothes wet in the wash so you’d wear his shirt instead. Accident, he claimed. Timing. Cycles. But somehow, your entire outfit was still in the machine — cold, damp, and useless — while his favorite linen shirt lay folded neatly on the bed. You put it on. He watched you button it. And smiled like he'd won a silent war no one else even knew was happening. 5. He reads your messages without asking. Calmly. You know it. He knows you know. He doesn’t deny it. Just traces your jaw one evening and says, “You don’t hide anything from me. That’s why it doesn’t count as intrusion.” And the worst part? He’s right. You stopped hiding a long time ago.

5 Petty Jealousies That Reveal Just How Much Xavier’s Obsessed With You

1. You nap on the wrong side of the bed.You nap on the wrong side of the bed. Not wrong, exactly. Just… not his. You’re curled up in the late-afternoon light, peaceful, quiet, unaware. He doesn’t wake you. Doesn’t move you. But when you stir, there’s a weight in the silence. His side of the bed is untouched. Pillow perfectly aligned. No warmth. No scent. And your blanket — tucked just a little tighter — like a quiet reminder that even when you’re here, something’s missing. Something he’s not sure how to ask for without sounding ridiculous. Like: your perfume. On his pillow. Where it should be.

2. You tell him about a dream. Someone else was in it.You describe it absently. A mission. A flash of danger. And a man — not him — at your side. He listens. Nods. Doesn’t blink. But that night, when he kisses you, his hand stays on the back of your neck longer than usual. And his mouth says I want you, but his grip says: you don’t forget me, even in sleep.

3. You keep something old, worn, unnamed.A keychain. A patch. A folded slip of paper. Nothing dramatic. But it’s always near. He asks, once: “What is that?” You smile. “Just something from a long time ago.” He nods. Never brings it up again. But two days later, he leaves something else beside it. Not to replace. Just to match the weight.

4. You let the barista choose your drink instead of him.You smiled. Said “sure, why not.” Took the new coffee without hesitation. He was beside you. Holding your usual. You didn’t notice. But when you left the café, his own drink sat untouched. And he walked a little faster. A little quieter. As if recalibrating the fact that maybe someone else knows your taste. Even if it’s just in coffee.

5. You close your laptop too fast when he walks in.“Just a movie,” you say. Too quickly. He doesn’t ask. Doesn’t tilt his head. Just nods and sets his gloves on the table like he didn’t notice the flicker in your tone. Later, while checking your tabs, he sees the paused frame — teeth on skin, hands holding wrists, someone begging. Silently. His breath doesn’t change. His expression stays neutral. But when he finds you, hours later, he doesn’t speak. Just pins your arms above your head and kisses you until you can’t remember what the scene looked like — only what it felt like when it became real.

5 Lies Xavier Tells Himself About You

1. “I’m not jealous of whoever taught you how to fight like that.”He knows it doesn’t matter. It’s skill. It’s history. Efficiency passed from one warrior to another. He tells himself it’s irrelevant. But when he watches you move — precise, lethal, beautiful — something coils in his chest. Not because of the technique. But because someone else saw you become this version of yourself. And he didn’t.

2. “It’s logical to sleep apart sometimes.” You need rest. Space. Post-mission decompression. He understands. It’s healthy. Statistically sound. But the first night you say “I’ll sleep in my own apartment,” the bed feels wrong. His internal balance off by degrees he can’t quantify. He tells himself it’s fine. Then stares at the ceiling for hours, heart syncing to a rhythm that isn’t there.

3. “It doesn’t bother me when you keep things to yourself.” You’re independent. He respects that. Boundaries are natural. But you say “I’m fine” with a smile that doesn’t reach your eyes, and he catalogs ten micro-expressions that say otherwise. Still, he nods. Doesn’t push. Then replays your words in his head for the next three days, trying to solve you like a puzzle that refuses to open.

4. "I could walk away, if it ever came to that." He tells himself he’s rational. Detached. If you chose something else — someone else — he would adapt. But deep down, he knows: he’s already memorized your weight in his arms, the way your name fits inside his silence. If it ever came to leaving… he wouldn’t walk. He’d stay exactly where you left him. Quiet. Waiting. Ruined.

5. "You wouldn’t lie to protect me. Would you?" You say “it was nothing,” “I’m just tired,” “I handled it.” And he accepts it. On the surface. But his mind starts building alternate versions. Safer ones. Worse ones. Ones where you bled and said nothing. He tells himself you’d never hide real danger. But he still checks your vitals in the logs. Every time.

5 Things That Make Xavier Go Completely Feral (In Lust, Not Rage)

1. You walk in wearing a bright yellow duck kigurumi.  Absurd. Fuzzy. Zipped up wrong. You yawn, mumble something about tea, and pad across the room like comfort incarnate. He looks up. Blinks once. And forgets what he was doing. The beak hood. The bare ankles. The way you scratch your neck, half-asleep. None of it should be seductive. But now he can’t look away. His gaze tracks you like threat assessment — only it's not danger he’s calculating. It’s proximity. Access. How long he can pretend he's unaffected… before you end up against the wall. Still wearing the duck. For now.

2. You adjust the chest plate of his armor.  No rush. Just fingertips over matte metal, sliding a buckle, pressing a clasp. Your hands linger longer than they need to. You don’t even realize you’re doing it. But he does. He’s counting your seconds, your pressure, the exact placement of your thumb. If anyone asks why his next shot missed the center by half an inch, it’s because you touched him like a secret no one else was allowed to see. 3. You peel off your combat gloves with your teeth.  It’s efficient. Quick. Practical. But the way your mouth closes around the strap and your fingers flex once, twice, before they’re bare — He’s staring before he knows he is. Processing nothing but the curve of your jaw and the memory of that same mouth around his length. The second glove doesn’t stand a chance. Neither does he, honestly. 4. You wear a thin black choker.  No explanation. No warning. It’s not part of your gear. Has no field utility. But it’s there, snug against your throat like a promise no one else knows about. He sees it once and looks away. Sees it again and swallows too hard. The third time, he doesn’t look at all — he just shifts in his seat like everything in his world needs immediate recalibration. 5. You say “later” when he leans in.  Just a little. Enough to feel the pull. And you smile, soft, apologetic, not teasing — just... not now. He nods, like he understands. He always does. But from that second forward, every calculation, every breath, every cell in his body becomes attuned to the moment you say now. And when you finally do — he doesn’t wait. He doesn’t ask. He just takes, like patience was never part of the equation to begin with.

5 Power Couple Moments That Made Everyone Else Jealous (And a Little Scared)

1. You moved in perfect sync — without saying a single word. In the training hall, you didn’t say a word — but moved like a mirrored code. You shifted, he adjusted. You reached, he passed. No signals, no commands. Just two bodies in absolute sync. Someone watching whispered, “Do they rehearse this?” Someone else muttered, “No. That’s just them.” And suddenly, no one wanted to spar with either of you. 2. Someone called him “too quiet.” You didn’t let it slide. It was a throwaway comment —“He’s so silent, it’s weird.” You didn’t even look up from your drink. “Then you’ve never heard him breathe next to you.” The room went still. Xavier didn’t react. But you felt it — how he went still too, the way his attention locked fully on you. As if your words changed the temperature. 3. He braided your hair for three weeks while your wrist healed. At your desk. Between reports. No comments. No hesitation. Just practiced hands and quiet efficiency, like it belonged in the schedule. And maybe it wasn’t romantic. Or loud. But after that, no one ever looked at you the same way — because somehow, without trying, the two of you had redefined what closeness looked like. 4. You didn’t ask for his jacket. You didn’t have to. A shift in the wind. Goosebumps on your arms. No complaint, no drama. He just stepped behind you, slid his cardigan onto your shoulders like it belonged there, and said nothing. The couple walking by paused. Stared. You didn’t. You were already reaching for his hand. 5. There’s a photo of you on his desk.  Just you, caught mid-laugh, in natural light. Among tactical reports and encrypted drives. He never explains it. Never acknowledges it. But everyone who enters that room sees it. And no one ever asks if he's serious about you. They already know.

5 Times Xavier Was a Walking Red Flag But You Loved Him Anyway

1. He monitors your meals like it’s a clinical trial. “You didn’t eat enough protein today.” “That pastry had no nutritional value.” “Are you hydrating?” He says it softly. Calmly. Like a doctor. Like someone who cares. And yet — you’ve seen him survive three days on black coffee and whatever snack bar was closest to his hand. You mention this once. He pauses. Then says, “That’s different. I’m used to operating under stress. You’re not.” End of discussion.

2. He didn’t argue. He made the argument disappear. You disagreed about something small. Nothing dramatic. Just opposing views. He didn’t push back. Just nodded, quiet. Said, “If that’s what you think.” Later, you realized the entire issue — schedule, person, condition — was gone. Resolved. Removed. Replaced. No apology. No discussion. Just silence... and a solution that left you with nothing to win.

3. He never asked where you’d been.Not once. Not even after you were late. Not even when your message came hours too late. He didn’t accuse. Didn’t guess. He already knew. Tracked your path, logged your signal drift, checked your pulse history. All without a word. And still held the door open when you arrived.

4. He always calls via video when you’re in another city.He never misses a day. Never just texts. Always video. He says he likes seeing your face. That it “grounds him.” And maybe that’s true. Maybe. But every time the screen lights up, you notice how carefully his eyes scan the room behind you. How his voice sounds different if there’s movement. How he never quite hangs up until you say, “I’m alone. It’s quiet here.” Only then does he relax. A little. Maybe.

5. You told him, “Sometimes, you scare me.” He said, “Good.”It slipped out. Low. Uncertain. Not a joke, not an accusation — just the truth. He didn’t deny it. Didn’t soften. Just met your eyes and said, calm as ever, “Good. Then you’ll stay alert.” And for a moment, you weren’t sure if he was warning you… or protecting you from something only he could see coming.

5 Petty Jealousies That Reveal Just How Much Sylus’s Obsessed With You

1. You didn’t tag him. He made sure the world knew anyway.You posted a photo. Cute. Stylish. Perfect lighting. But no mention of him. No tag. No trace. He reposted it within minutes. Same photo. New caption: “Correction: mine.” It got five times the reach. And suddenly, everyone knew better.

2. Someone else made you laugh. Sylus didn’t.The waiter was charming. A little too witty. You laughed — loud, unfiltered. Sylus just raised a brow, pulled out his wallet, and handed the man $2000. “For your last night in customer service,” he said. He smiled. You choked on your wine. The waiter never came back.

3. You called some man a friend. Sylus ran a background check.“He’s just a friend,” you said. Lightly. Barely thinking. Sylus smiled. Tilted his head. “I’m just a man with access to his tax history.”And that was the end of that conversation.

4. You said another man had a nice voice. Sylus gave you no air.It was innocent. Harmless. “His voice is kind of nice.”  Sylus said nothing. Just waited. That night, he read you poetry in three languages, one line at a time — mouth against your neck, breasts, stomach, thighs — until you begged him to stop. Not because you wanted him to. Because you physically couldn’t take more.

5. You forgot to wear his ring. He didn’t forget anything.It wasn’t intentional. You were rushing. Distracted. But he noticed. Of course he did. He said nothing all day. Then, that night — when you were breathless, undone, on your knees — he took your hand, kissed your finger, and slid the ring back into place. Slowly. Deliberately. Like sealing a deal you forgot you signed.

5 Lies Sylus Tells Himself About You

1. “I didn’t pick your outfit to match mine. Must’ve been the stylist.”It was just coincidence. That your lipstick matched his cufflinks. That your dress followed the same line as his collarbones. That when you walked in together, people paused — like royalty had arrived. He didn’t say a word. Just looked at you once. And didn’t look away for the rest of the night.

2. “I’m not furious that I wasn’t your first.”He says it doesn’t matter. Shrugs. “I’m not a teenager.” And yet, the thought of someone else touching you before him? It coils in his chest like smoke that won’t clear. He tells himself you chose him now — and that’s what counts. But the next time you moan his name, he fucks you hard enough to make sure no one else’s ever mattered.

3. “I don’t answer your messages instantly. I’m just always holding the phone.”He just… saw it. Right away. Just happened to be holding his phone. Just happened to pause mid-meeting, mid-deal, mid-war — to write: “Be safe.” You tease him for how fast he replies. He teases back. And never mentions the part where your name makes him drop everything.

4. “I’m not obsessed with the way you say my name when you’re annoyed.”You do it without thinking. That exact tone. That breath. That syllable dipped in heat. He rolls his eyes. Says, “What now, kitten?” But every time it happens — he shifts closer. Hears it again later in his head. And stores it next to the version you whisper when you want him most.

5. “I wouldn’t beg. If it came to that. …But only for you. And only once.”He’s not that man. He doesn’t plead. Doesn’t bend. But when he thinks of you leaving — really leaving — something dark and fragile coils behind his ribs. He tells himself he’d let you go. That he wouldn’t chase. But even in the lie… he’s already halfway down the hallway.

5 Things That Make Sylus Go Completely Feral (In Lust, Not Rage)

1. You ask him to zip your dress. Then don’t wear anything underneath. It’s casual. Innocent. “Help me?” You turn your back, lift your hair, and wait. He moves slow — almost reverent. But when his fingers meet bare skin where silk should be… he doesn’t finish the zip. He turns you around, steps in close, and says, “You came dressed for trouble. Good. So did I.” 2. You say “don’t be gentle” with a smile that promises you’ll say it again, louder. He always controls the pace. The heat. The rhythm. But when you lean in, lips brushing his ear, and whisper those words — something in him fractures. He doesn’t ask if you’re sure. He doesn’t give you time to change your mind. He just obeys. And makes sure you feel the echo for days. 3. You use his tie to pull him into a kiss. He likes power. Centered, composed. Collar straight, voice cool. But when you grab that perfect silk tie, wrap it around your fingers, and yank — he stumbles into you like a man starved. You kiss him once. He kisses you back like vengeance. 4. You say “yes, sir” in a tone that means the opposite. You drawl it. Sweet. Defiant. Like you know exactly what it does to him. He doesn’t argue. Doesn’t smile. Just leans in, voice low against your throat, and says, “Keep using that tone, kitten. Let’s see how long you last when I take it seriously.” You don’t last long. Not that night. 5. You put on his ring and ask, “So what does this buy me?” It’s a joke. Almost. You twirl it on your finger, playful, reckless. He watches. Then smiles slow, wicked. “That?” he says, stepping closer. “That buys you a night where I don’t stop until you forget your own name.” And just like that, you do.

5 Power Couple Moments That Made Everyone Else Jealous (And a Little Scared)

1. The earring incident at the casino. You dropped it. Somewhere between the blackjack table and the bar. Nothing dramatic — until your face shifted. That quiet flicker of loss. Sylus didn’t sigh. Didn’t scold. Just raised a brow. And a dozen seasoned criminals began crawling across the velvet floor. They found it in twenty minutes. You wore it for the rest of the night. He wore the look of a man who’d moved the world back into place. 2. The arrivals are always his favorite part. You come back from missions — tired, sore, alive. And there it is: his sportscar. Engine humming. He’s waiting with a bouquet of roses so rare you don’t recognize half the species. The entire terminal watches. You don’t. You’re too busy smiling. He says, “Welcome home.” And just like that, the war disappears from your shoulders. 3. The seat at the head of the table. It was a high-stakes meeting. Old money. Dangerous names. Sylus led you in by the hand — then pulled out his chair. You blinked. He said nothing. And while you sat at the head, calm and poised, he stood behind you like a king who knows exactly where real power sits. No one even dared raise a brow. 4. The auction. Your hand. His silence. He gave you the paddle. Not instructions. You bid on instinct — numbers rising, tension thick. The item? A rare protocore with blackout-level clearance. Sylus didn’t flinch. Not once. And when the gavel dropped — he leaned in, lips brushing your ear, and said, “You can spend my money however you want, kitten. Just make sure they see you doing it.” 5. The moment the room lost him to you. It was mid-negotiation. Tense. Crucial. Every word counted. But across the table, your fingers tapped. Your eyes glazed. You were bored. Sylus watched. Then stood. “Deal’s done,” he said. “You’ll take our terms.” And somehow, they did. Because the only person in the room whose attention he wanted — was already drifting.

5 Times Sylus Was a Walking Red Flag But You Loved Him Anyway

1. He knows what’s in your delivery before you do. No one told him. But every time you order something — clothes, tech, vitamins — it’s re-screened. Not stopped. Not blocked. Just… “verified.” You only noticed when your favorite moisturizer showed up improved. New formula. Better scent. Hand-selected. Of course. 2. He said he’d put you on IV if you skip another meal. You were busy. Distracted. He asked what you’d eaten. You said, “Does coffee count?” He laughed. Once. And muttered something about installing a medical station in your apartment. He was “joking.” Until you saw the discreet courier bring an IV stand the next day. Just in case. 3. He took you to dinner at a place you hadn’t been since Academy. You didn’t realize where you were — until you saw your ex across the room. The one who cheated. Sylus just smiled. You were in a dress that made people stop breathing. He ordered champagne. Lobster. Left a four-digit tip. And made sure your ex saw everything. Including the way you kissed Sylus on the way out. 4. He froze your accounts. Just to prove a point. You said you didn’t need his money. You insisted on “independence.” So he waited until your card declined at the pharmacy. Then texted: “You have my black card. Use it. Or stay home.” You gave in. He sent flowers. 5. He apologized like a storm front. You fought. It was ugly. The next day, a gift arrived at HQ. Then another. Then six more. By day four, your car was full. You marched to his door, furious. He opened it, leaned against the frame, and said, “Took you long enough. Come yell at me. I’ll pour the wine.”

[kybercrystals94]

Redolence

By KyberCrystals94

Find here on Ao3!

Whumptober 2023 | Day 1 | Alternative Prompt: Lab Rats

Bad Things Happen Bingo | Prompt: Homesickness

Rating:G

Words: 1,070

Summary: Omega and Echo have a conversation about their pasts.

Omega presses her face between Lula’s long ears and breathes deeply the scent of her brothers: stale sweat, blaster residue, motor oil, aftershave, regulation soap, and a few other things she can’t quite place. Lula is like a sponge, soaking up the redolence of the soldiers she lives with. While the stuffed tooka doesn’t smell pleasant , Lula smells of love and safety and comfort. Therefore, she smells wonderful, and Omega gives the creature an extra tight squeeze as she tries to hold in the tears that threaten to spill. She should be happy. She is happy. She is. She is.

“Omega, are you alright?”

Omega is surprised by the generic reg voice. She would have expected Hunter or Wrecker to check on her...maybe even Tech. Not Echo. He isn’t unkind, but he is distant, almost unsure of her. Like he doesn’t want to get attached. Omega understands, even though it makes her heart hurt a little.

“I’m fine,” Omega lies easily, lifting her face so that her voice isn’t muffled against Lula’s soft stuffing.

There is a pause, but Omega knows the cyborg clone hasn’t walked away. After an uncomfortable stretch of silence, Echo clears his throat. “Are you sure? Hunter – uh – sent me to check on you.”

Omega forces a smile and carefully blinks back the tears that have been forming before she pulls back the curtain, letting Lula topple from her arms. “I’m okay, Echo,” she assures him.

The shadows on Echo’s face in the warm glow of her strung lights accentuate his gaunt features, and Omega suppresses the shudder that reflexively comes. Nala Se had Omega study Echo’s medical files as part of her training. The horrors he suffered at the hands of the Techno Union still haunt Omega’s imagination, and the cool, professional terminology she poured over in the files did not do his tragedy justice. It must’ve been hard for him to join the Batch too, starting over after all he’d been through. She admires him endlessly for it, but she isn’t sure how she could ever tell him without also admitting to having read his files. Not that she’d had a choice, or was snooping, but...

Echo matches her striving grin with one of his own. “Alright. If you say so,” he says, shrugging one shoulder, telling her without telling her that he knows she’s lying.

He starts to turn away when Omega bites out, “Wait, Echo...”

“Yeah?” he asks, the familiar gruff of his voice catching on the edge of the word.

Omega swallows, hoping he isn’t annoyed with her indecisiveness. “I just...can I ask you a question?”

“Sure, kid,” he says, and leans his weight against the wall casually.

“When you first joined Clone Force 99, did you – or do you – ever feel...” Omega searches for the right word, pressing her lips together before saying in a whisper, “homesick? For what you had before?”

Echo looks startled by the question, his eyes widening a little. However, the expression is brief, and his face returns to his normal air in a blink. To Omega’s dismay, he answers her question with one of his own, “Do you feel homesick for Kamino?”

“Sometimes,” Omega admits, pinching one of Lula’s ears between her fingers, “but I don’t want to go back. I’m happy here, with all of you. But if I’m happy here, why do I miss what I don’t want?”

Echo’s face softens. “Because you miss what is familiar, even if it wasn’t better.”

“Is that bad?” Omega asks.

“Of course not,” Echo says, “I missed living with my reg brothers. It’s all I knew most of my life. Doesn’t mean I care about my enhanced brothers any less.” He rolls his eyes good naturedly at the terminology adopted from the Batch, and it makes Omega giggle.

“I guess you and me are kind of the same,” Omega says softly, wistfully. “Taken in by the Bad Batch when..." Echo visibly stiffens, and Omega clamps her mouth shut, now gripping Lula’s ear in a fist. She shouldn’t have said that. She knew the moment the words left her mouth. She and Echo are nothing alike. Not really. Not at all.

But they are. In some ways.

Right?

To her surprise, Echo leans forward, folding his arms and resting them on the floor of her gunner’s mount room. “Nala Se,” he says, his voice softer and gentler than she’s ever heard it, “she experimented on you, didn’t she.” Not a question.

Omega bites down on the inside of her cheek. She has never wanted to tell any of them about that. But Echo knows, because she told him in a roundabout way. In the medical wing, after his accident in the mess hall. He woke up in a panic, and she’d comforted him. I don’t like being hooked up to their machines either.

She didn’t think he’d remember that, but why wouldn’t he?

So, she nods a small, jerky affirmative.

“I don’t remember much about the Techno Union,” Echo says, his voice still low, almost a whisper. Like his words are just for her ears. “I mean...I know what they did. And I live with what they did everyday...but it’s what the Kaminoans did that I remember well. They had to see that I was fit for duty, and their tests...” Echo falters, his words dropping off in an expanse of hidden emotions. He blinks, looking a little lost.

She isn’t sure why she does it, but she reaches out and rests a hand on Echo’s face, her thumb brushing over the sharp edge of his cheekbone. “I know,” she whispers, because she does. She was Nala Se’s “assistant” from her earliest memories. She saw the tests firsthand. Experienced some of them herself.

“You shouldn’t though,” Echo says, “No kid should know that.”

“Maybe,” Omega shrugs, “But we’re safe from them now...the Kaminoans, I mean.”

Echo’s eyes find hers and he smiles sadly. “Yeah, we are.”

Omega’s touch lingers a moment longer before she pulls away and hugs Lula close to her chest. “I’m not homesick for the Kaminoans. I’m homesick for Kamino...for AZI and helping with the babies. I hope they’re alright.”

“I hope so too,” Echo says, and he gives her knee a squeeze with his flesh hand. “You’re a good kid, Omega. I’m glad the Batch found...both of us.”

Omega smiles at her brother who understands. “Me too.”

END

[nightingale-prompts]

The Eldritch Coffeehouse-DCxDP prompt-part 2(I guess)

Part 1

Elle had a way of convincing people. Like how she convinced Damian Wayne that they were now best friends and to come over to her family's business after-school.

Damian was only going along with this because of the prodding of his family to make friends. This wasn't something that came easy to him as no one would understand him. But Nightingale had been more understanding than most in his life. She was very...nice. She had these big ideas that always went ahead of her and plans that were larger than life. She always had too much energy and found it hard in school to get it out. Naturally, she was head of the track team but she'd always complain about wanting to join the music club.

Jon had met her once while trying to sneak up on them at the end of the day. She pinned him in a triangle chokehold until Damian called her off. Damian didn't call her off immediately though.

She was still more apologetic than he liked.

"I can make it up to you guys. Let's go to my family's café! We can eat ourselves sick on pastries and cake! My brother should still be making hot chocolate right now!" She told them.

Damian was nice enough to tell Dick where he was going and to not wait up. Alfred was already in the car in front of the school and drove the three to the...graveyard?

"Thank you Mister Pennyworth! Do you want to join us?" Elle asked loudly but politely.

Alfred accepted graciously and agreed to stay for a cup of tea before heading back. He would come pick up Damian later.

The walk through the graveyard was daunting for Jon and only for Jon. It wasn't as scary as he thought since it was only the afternoon and the weather was warm. A few cats rested on tombstones soaking in the heat. A few birds gathered here and there hunting for worms and seeds. There were food and water dishes here and there for the felines and fresh seeds sprinkled on the grass for the birds.

"I usually clean and change the food dishes in the morning. But Dan likes to feed the birds."

Elle walked the row of mausoleums until she stopped at one and pushed the stone door open and a skipped down a stairs and opened the smooth mahogany door in the café.

Behind the counter a young man stood pouring drinks.

"Elle you're back. Take this cup to table 3." He said putting a cup and saucer on a serving tray.

"I just got here! At least let me change or tell you we have guests." She whined but picked up the trey and marched over to the table.

"Guests? I'm sorry. Welcome to the Catacomb Club. How can we make your afterlife?" He said smoothly.

"Elle said we could eat sweets," Jon spoke up first and Damian elbowed him.

"Oh? Well, we have a batch of leftovers from this morning. Since you're her school friends you can get some from the kitchen." The barista said.

"Yay! Thanks Danny!" Elle had returned and opened the door to the backroom to grab some fresh plates and loading them up with sweets.

"Anything I can get for you, sir?" Danny asked Alfred.

"Just an Earl Gray. Or an Early Grave as you call it on the menu." Alfred said.

***

Elle presents a variable buffet of sweets to the boys. She really meant it when she said eat themselves sick.

The menu had no shortage of available snacks:

Tombstone Tarts – Mini fruit tarts with gravestone-shaped pastry toppers. (Jazz's pick)

Phantom Opera Cake – Layers of dark chocolate and coffee mousse with a smoky glaze.(Save a slice for Danny's SPECIAL guest (Jazz STOP)

Ethereal Cheesecake – A white chocolate cheesecake with a "foggy" vanilla glaze (You can just slap the word ethereal on things when you can't come up with something witty.) (Watch me)

Shadow Éclairs – Black cocoa éclairs filled with blood orange cream. (DANNY STOP EATING THE ORANGES) (no)

Soulful Scones – Charcoal scones served with berry jam and clotted cream.

Midnight Mocha Cupcakes – Chocolate cupcakes with espresso buttercream and a ghostly fondant topper. (Ew fondant)

Cemetery Soil – Chocolate pudding "dirt" with gummy worms and cookie gravestones. (Dani ate all the gummy worms again)

Wraith Cupcakes – Vanilla cupcakes with smoky gray frosting and sugar ghost toppers. (Dani's favorite)

Blackberry Bat Muffins – Dark muffins with blackberry compote and bat-shaped toppers. (Save some for that Cass girl)

Candied Skull Pops – Lollipops shaped like skulls in eerie colors.

Necropolis Nougat – Black and white nougat with bits of candied nuts and dried fruit. (Dan's favorite) (Weirdo)

Spirit’s Whisper Bark – White and dark chocolate bark with ghostly swirls and edible glitter.(please don't let Dani eat the glitter)

Moonlight Marshmallows – Homemade marshmallows in ghost or crescent moon shapes. (Danny's favorite)

Blood Velvet Rolls – Red velvet Swiss rolls filled with red cream cheese frosting. (Dan's favorite) (you can't have more than one favorite) (watch me)

Just like the rest of the menu there were comments going back and forth.

"The workers seem to argue constantly." Damian said bitting into a tart

Jon was making his way through the cake pops first.

"Well, we are family. We argue all the time but we don't mean it. Although I'm still mad they didn't like my dessert list." Elle sighed.

"Like what?" Damian asked.

"I had so many ideas like Eyeball pops filled with jelly, Bloody Bones white chocolate covered in raspberry syrup, or Maggot Macaroons with gummy worms in them," Elle said wiggling her fingers to mimic worms. "But Jazz said they were too gross sounding to sell. Humans have such weak stomachs."

Damian wanted to point out that Jon wasn't human and even he turned green. Damian on the other hand was intrigued. Elle was always entertaining to listen to.

The three enjoyed their snacks after Alfred finished his tea and took off.

Jon's Kryptonian appetite helped get through the bulk of it because Damian stopped short to not spoil his appetite.

This was wise since the Cafe preparing to switch to its bar setting with a more lively Jazz band and dinner menu.

Jon groaned at the thought of more food as he rested his face on the cool polished wood that smelled faintly of rose incense. He should have noticed by now that something as off but his stomach has been a major distraction. Had it been his father then who was trained to sense the issue the jig would have been up.

You see, they were the only mortals in the room.

Not one heartbeat could be heard. Jon should have known so much earlier when Elle managed to surprise him without her heart rate going up.

"Dani- I mean Elle?" A voice from the kitchen called.

A young woman with long red locks came into view. Her dress, a 50s style black tea-length poodle skirt. Instead of the usual poodle pattern on the hem, there was a white skeletal cat. She had on a pair of balck frilled short gloves. Other than her dress she wore an apron with a black ribcage design that matched the uniforms of the other workers/family members here. Her teal eyes softened when she saw Elle sitting with her friends

"Yeah, Jazz?" Elle asked.

"Do you still want to go on stage tonight or do you want to stay with your friends? And do you still want dinner?" Jazz asked in succession.

"I'm still going to do my set. And can I get carbonara and a glass of...um..." Elle struggled to find the word for the liquid that every undead in the area came here for. "My medicine."

Damian's ear picked up the hesitation in her voice.

"You take a perception?" Damian said perhaps a bit thoughtless since not everyone wants to talk about their medical issues. But he had never seen her take medicine at school and didn't know a medication that would be taken later in the day that wasn't also taken early.

"Kinda, it's something I have to take to keep living. But it like it, the juice I mean. You'd like it too but you don't need it. Dan is kinda stingy with who gets some. You types aren't allowed. Only members." Elle knew that this place was an open secret. It's not like they kept their ghostly nature secret. Everyone just thinks they are keeping up the theme while they were all completely serious. Besides lying isn't their nature.

Still, Elle wasn't being completely honest which isn't something that comes naturally to her. Bending the truth will have to do.

Damian let it go for now. He didn't need to know her medical history...yet.

Jon was taking a nap now anyways. Damian stole his phone out of his pocket and sent a text to the Kent family in case they wanted to know where Jonathan was.

Ellehad to change clothes into her uniform and grab her violin. It wasn't a surprise to Damian who knew she like music but he had never heard her play. Now she was on stage playing with the folk band as the guest clapped and danced.

Jazz brought out some food for them to eat while Danny traded places with a tall burly man who was definitely the eldest brother.

As Damian ate he listened to Elle play...well the band play but it was mostly Elle who he was listening for. He heard a familiar voice from behind his booth and when he looked over it was none other than Jason fucking Todd talking to the bartender. Talking? I meant failing miserably to flirt and having the tables turned on him easily.