mylittleoc-fuse-n-ships

[infinitevisions]

A Lesson (To Both of Us)

Pairing: Crosshair x Gender-Neutral Reader Summary: Crosshair decides to play games on you while teaching you how to snipe, but his plan quickly backfires. Word Count: 1,024 Tags: Crosshair teasing you, unresolved sexual tension, this isn't smut but it's somewhat spicey, wrote this with clone wars Crosshair in mind but imagine whatever era you want!! there is eventual fluff!! Notes: this is my FIRST X READER EVER, so if it's not good please bear with me!! crosshair enjoyers you deserve the world so i hope yall enjoy this

“I just don’t think this is in the cards for me.” You groaned. You stood in the training range with Crosshair's firearm, surprised he even allowed you to use it, even with his surveillance. While you had fired some rounds on the target, the gun grew too heavy and caused discomfort in your shoulders. You had no idea how he did this for a living. Crosshair groaned and used his leg as momentum to rise off the wall he was leaning against.

“So dramatic.” Crosshair remarked as he approached you. Before speaking, his augmented eyes scanned you up and down. It felt like a perfect circumstance for him to test the waters. The stage was set and the fruit was ripe for the taking.

“You’re in the wrong position.” He stated. Your neck was too far forward, straining your muscles, your legs were too close together, and your arms should exchange positions. You felt your breath hitch at the statement, but you attempted to ignore your filthy mind. Crosshair caught your chest stutter and cracked a grin.

“You’re too tense,” he added. “You need to loosen up.”

“Okay… mind showing me, wise one?” You joked, attempting to conceal the fact that your heart was pounding just from hearing his voice. But Crosshair wasn't dumb. He knew just how his voice affected you. He decided to add fuel to the fire. He threw his toothpick aside before getting to work.

“You need to spread your legs.” He drew back, keeping his gaze fixed on your face to watch how you reacted, whether you enjoyed this. If he detected any uncomfortable body language, he would stop instantly.

Luckily for him, he noticed your throat bob as you swallowed spit. Your legs separated, and you assumed a more solid stance. He observed you intently as you were doing so.

“How’s this? This alright?” You searched for more confirmation. He spotted a window of opportunity. He gave you a quick once-over before starting.

“Mind if I… show you?” He inquired before figuratively taking his shot. You finally shifted your attention to him, relaxing your grasp on the rifle for a moment. You took in his small grin and exhaled. You were curious about where he was headed with this.

“Of course.”

Crosshair's eyes shimmered with hunger.

He approached you from behind, pressing his armored chest against your unarmored but clothed back. He took his hands and placed them upon yours, guiding your hands to the appropriate positions. He focused his gaze just past your left ear. His breath fanned over your ear, and you continued to breathe deeply but sought to mask it.

“Much better now, isn’t it?” Crosshair asked smoothly, feeling your hands tremble beneath his.

“Y–Yeah. Lots. Feels amazing.” You tried lightly teasing back. He chuckled before speaking.

“Now, take a look around. Are you vulnerable?” He inquired as he felt your back compress against his chest and swell with every breath you took.

You certainly felt vulnerable. It was unexpected for Crosshair to be so close to you, yet it turned out to be one of the most outstanding experiences of your existence. The sunset made the most beautiful swirl of hues in the sky, and normally, you would take it in and appreciate it, but there's nothing quite like the sensation of having Crosshair against you.

However, it's important to note that his question was simply, are you a current target?

“N–No, uh… I don’t see anyone aiming at me.” You stated.

“Mm-hmm.” He rumbled into your ear, and your legs nearly buckled at the sound. For what amount of time would he continue to pursue this? How much more of you crumbling did he need to see before he was satisfied? Before you further spiraled into your thoughts, you heard Crosshair inhale to say his next words of wisdom.

“Try taking another shot for me.”

For him. For him. The words rang in your brain as you gently placed your finger over the trigger. He was whispering in your ear– right in the open for everyone to see. It drove you crazy. It was your primary motive for shooting the objective. You inhaled before pulling the trigger and giving it hell.

You blasted a straight shot to the target's forehead.

Despite your distraction from Crosshair, you felt quite proud of yourself and puffed out a little chuckle. However, you remained still since Crosshair remained motionless as well.

“Very good.” Crosshair purred in your ear, his tone dulcet as honey.

You couldn’t hold back the whimper that manifested after he said that. It was quiet, but Crosshair still picked up on it. Like he always did. Like he always would. You gathered yourself together, stepped away from him, and looked upward at his face. He also took a step back, allowing you some room.

You couldn't help but reflect carefully on everything as you took in the atmosphere. You trained with the guidance of Crosshair. It was unknown to you if it was for his own pleasure, but as soon as you realized the magnitude of the situation, a smile spread across your face. 

“It was all thanks to you,” You said softly. Even though he riled you up, you were honored that he trained you how to snipe. Crosshair’s sharp demeanor slowly dropped, shocked at your genuine gratitude. When he saw your grin, he didn't know why blood shot to his brain and caused dizziness. It frustrated him as he began to feel overwhelmed. The fact that your enchanting grin was the only thing on his mind just made him angrier.

You held the weapon out for him to take back. He looked down at your hands on his rifle and saw how soft they were in comparison to his. After taking the gun, he broke eye contact and turned around so his back was to you. He chose to dismiss any other possibilities as the source of his condition and put the blame entirely on being ill. Despite his lingering fear that it wasn't what it was.

“Don’t mention it.” Crosshair said sheepishly, struggling to ignore the warm sensation inside his chest.

[200070063]

Sure! Let’s hear it!

putting it under a cut because itll probably be long (context is p0psugar asked what couldve triggered pillows personality change. the art that goes with it is gorgeous btw go look NOW)

okay so first off. from a writing standpoint! ive noticed tpot has picked up a lot of seemingly forgotten early bfb gags and brought them back. especially for the characters that didn't get a lot of time to shine. theres a lot more emphasis on basketballs robotics knowledge, nickels strange speech patterns, yellow faces ads (not necessarily forgotten, but it was pretty much gone in bfb from what i remember), clocks love for loser lore (for better or for worse...). hell even the death pact itself, something that was just mentioned every now and again, has a lot more emphasis put on it! its the cause of a team-wide conflict!

thats basically what happened with pillow! she didn't have much personality outside of researching, so they seem to have took the silly "did someone say killing?" line and... well..... y'know........

it became this!

i dont know how most people feel about it and i might be biased because tpot made me a big fan of her but i like this approach. a lot. i may not like all of the changes it caused (that is NOT clock four replaced him with a clone i swear to god) but i appreciate how much life it gave to the less...... characterized contestants.

as for in universe, thats a bit harder for me to answer. i could argue that its just because shes not in the pact anymore but,

its clear that didnt matter, cause she was like this anyway! but even then its clear she did Try to prevent death (not getting screenshots right now but im specifically talking about the fork thing in todays very special episode and her trying to muffle fours screech in getting teardrop to tall), and as much as i want to chalk that up to the writers still getting a grasp of her character, thats just. not how i operate LOL im an overanalyzer at heart

so there's a few things that could be going on here:

1, there wasnt a personality shift at all, most of her moments like this were just offscreen.

2, the whole "death=good luck" thing didnt come to mind until after her time in death pact. or was maybe even a result of it. they didnt really prevent much death in bfb, so its still possible despite the teams immunity streak, something that was brought into question after she first brought it up. (←my petsonal theory)

3, the belief DID exist back then, she just either pushed it aside for the sake of the team or it wasnt as strong.

or maybe even something else! idk! i actually think about it quite a lot its nice to put my thoughts together like this. i heart pillow they could never make me hate her

[spiderboykingoftheives]

“I Met Spiderman”

Word count: 1.4k

spiderman x reader

Summary: Spiderman saves his girlfriend who doesn’t know he’s Spiderman.

Warnings: narrator @ttacked by strangers

—————————————

I was walking home from the night shift. The air was colder then usual and I could see my breath as I walked to my apartment. As I walked I held my jacket close to me to keep all my body heat in.

That’s when some men smoking cigarettes look at me and give a whistle. I ignore them walking faster not making eye contact, so they get in my way. Slowly surrounding you so there is no way out.

“Hey little lady what are you doing out here so late and all alone?” One of them says as the slowly close in on me.

“I’m walking home to my boyfriend if you would be so kind as to let me pass,” you say still not making eye contact with them.

“Well you have to do something for us before that,” a second man says coming in reaching for me but I move away just far enough to miss his grasp and not run into another man.

“We can take payments in favor,” a third man says looking at me over and over again. I hold my jacket tighter wanting to cover myself up as much as possible.

“Please leave me alone-“ you say feeling stressed and scared. The first man to speak steps forward and grabs my jacket pulling it off of me. My purse and phone fall to the ground and the second man kicks it away.

“You haven’t given us our payment yet though,” the first man says looking at me. I can see his bad intentions just from his eyes.

The third man grabs a knife and holds it to my throat as the first man holds me against the wall.

“Get off me!” I yell trying to break out of his grasp. In response they push the knife to my throat even more and I can feel some blood drawn.

“Slow down man she’s already bleeding,” the second man says moving the knife away from me. As soon as it was clear I kicked the first man in the balls and pushed him off of me. The second man grabs my hair and pulls me to the ground. I land hard on my knees and the second man keeps a grip on my hair and pulls it so it faces him.

“That was a mistake,” he said and the third man fist make a direct hit to my face. The rings on his fingers cutting through my skin and I feel warm blood trailing down my face. The second man then kicks me in the stomach and drops my hair. I fall onto the ground now laying down fetal position as I feel more kicks being thrown at me. They occasionally pulling my hair and dragging my bruised and bloody body across the alley. I feel the world begin to fade out and close my eyes in exhaustion when the kicking and pain finally stops. I open my eyes and see a red and blue blur now webbing the criminals down and disarming them.

Once they were taken care of Spiderman turns to me and the eyes on his suit were as wide as they can be.

He rushed over to my side grabbing my face and inspecting it.

“What did they do?” He said and I could hear the anger even through my disorientation.

“I don’t feel good,” I say slowly closing my eyes but he shakes my shoulders.

“No you have to stay awake okay? You can’t fall asleep on me.” He says holding her closer I can tell he is inspecting my wounds.

I stay silent just trying to get my eyes to focus but there was three Spider-Man’s in front of me. I feel myself being lifted into the air and thought I was hallucinating but I soon realized Spider-Man was now running me to the nearest hospital which luckily was close by.

“Tell me what’s your favorite color?“ he says trying to keep me awake.

“Purple. There’s not that much purple in the world, so I like it when I see it.” I say trying my best to keep my eyes open.

“What’s your favorite movie?” He continues

“Star Wars: Attack of the Clones which is episode two. I always wanted love like Anakin and Padme as a kid.”

“Did you ever find that?” He asks and looks down at me.

“I think so. Hopefully it’s better then that though and he doesn’t end up being a mass murderer” I say and notice him slightly chuckling.

“What’s his name?” He asks next.

“How did we get from what’s your favorite color to who are you in love with?” I laugh at him. “But it’s Peter if you’re so curious.”

“That’s a good name.” Spider-Man says and I can tell he’s smiling under the mask even though I have a concussion.

“Why’s that Spider-Man?” I ask looking at him.

“Oh uhhhh I have a friend named that,” he says quickly.

“Okay…” I say not pushing further. “Wow you have friends. I never really thought about you’re life outside of- well this” I say gesturing to the costume.

“Sometimes me either,” he says and I can hear a sadness in his tone.

“Are you dating anyone?” I ask him now. “It’s only fair you share now that I’ve told you mine.”

“I guess that’s true,” he says nervously. “I am dating but don’t ask for their name I can’t give away my identity now,”

“What are they like?” I ask now curious for me.

“Well she’s smart, smarter then me. She also has this laugh that just fills the whole room. It’s like everything gets hundred times brighter when she walks in. She always thinks of others, the kindest person I’ve ever met-“ he says and I can tell he would have kept going but we arrived at the hospital. Nurses see Spider-Man caring a girl and immediately rush over to help with a gurney and other supplies.

“Thank you sir, I can’t repay you for this.” I say as I’m placed on the bed.

“You don’t need to just please get better fast,” he says to me then looks up at the nurses. “I need you to make sure that she gets extra care please.” He says almost like he is begging. I’m surprised at how concerned he is for me when I was just another strangers life who was saved, he must really take his job seriously.

The next morning

I wake up and see my boyfriend Peter Parker sitting in a chair by my bed. As soon as I wake up and turn over to look at him his head shoots up. I’m surprised he could tell I was awake from such little movement I made. He looks at me and smiles, walking over to me and placing his hand on mine.

“Hey I heard you got in attacked, how are you feeling?” He says looking at me with concern.

“I’m okay. I met Spider-Man actually. It was cool except for the part where I almost died. Did you know he’s in love? I was only half conscious but man the way he talked about her was how everyone woman wants to be talked about.” I say and I’m about to keep going but I realize I’m rambling and stop. I see he is blushing a slight bit and squeezes my hand a little.

“I’m just glad you’re safe.” I can tell he was about to start another sentence and stops.

“You know when I got attacked all I could think of was you. Even Spider-Man sounded like you, I must have really gotten hit in the head.” I say laughing and I can see him laugh too.

“I’m sorry this happened to you. I just wish I could have done something to stop this. You didn’t deserve this you’re to good-“ He says and I stop him by placing my hands on both sides of his face.

“Peter I’m fine,” I say looking at him and giving a reassuring smile. “It’s all going to be okay.”

He looks into my eyes for a minute of silence. I can tell he’s thinking of something in deep thought before he finally says something again.

“I love you. I’ve been wanting to tell you since the day I met you but-“ I stop his rambling by kissing him. My hands moving from my face to his hair as I pull him closer to me. His hands find their away around my waist as he pulls me in as well.

“I love you too. I always have.” I say as we pull back to catch out breath. I smile at him and place my forehead against his. “I’ll always love you.”

[greybackpack]

I’m still thinking about Tilda and her relations to my version of Elisabet. Like, you don’t get a lot about how Lis felt other than disappointment and anger about Tilda’s possible involvement in stealing a copy of GAIA. I mean she said she didn’t… but she’s also a spy. And like that voice explaining Zero Dawn in the old Zenith base of operations sounded like a modulated version of Tilda’s voice- the way it pauses and drawls out the vowels is the same, I think. Just deeper? Modulated, perhaps?

Like there’s no way Lis actually believed she didn’t. She knows better than anyone what how cunning Tilda is and how intelligent and savvy she is with manipulating people. It makes her a great spy, but perhaps not a great person. And she’s had time to cook.

Like, how did they break up? Why? Was it amicable?

Tilda spent a thousand years regretting it and regretting that she left Lis behind… but what did Lis feel? Does she still hold some affection for Tilda? When she realizes Tilda’s fucked up (BETA, I’M STILL PISSED ABOUT HOW BADLY THE ZENITHS FUCKED BETA UP) and the extent of the damage, what would happen?

Did she also regret it? Did she think that Tilda helped with the betrayal? Anyways, here’s a possible snippet for the far (heh) future of the fic:

Elisabet stood there, facing her past in a way she hadn’t thought possible. Hadn’t thought will ever be possible again.

She had thought this chapter- this relationship- of her life was closed. When Aloy had recounted her experience in the facility, Elisabet hadn’t truly thought about the implications outside the mind numbing fact that she has another clone-daughter. But then she had met Beta, and it was okay, better than okay, that she had another daughter.

And then there’s this. This- her- there she is, floating in the air and looking as stunned as Lis herself feels. Tilda van de Meer.

“Elisabet?”

God, even the sound of her voice back bittersweet memories. All of those coffee dates and the art galleries and science expos… and the moment Tilda broke her heart. Elisabet swallows, remembering the way Tilda had looked her in the eyes and told her that it couldn’t work out- that it won’t ever work- because of the nature of Tilda’s job. The lie in her eyes and that tremor in her steady hands, Elisabet saw them.

“How is this possible?” Tilda whispers, white clad and shimmery arms armored with the Far Zenith shields reaching out to Elisabet. She stops halfway, as if she’s afraid that Elisabet will disappear the moment Tilda touches her.

“Cryo.” Elisabet says, still staring at Tilda. For the Old One, if she can even claim that title anymore, it has only been two, three years, since they broke things off. Lis hadn’t had time to grieve that relationship properly, having avoided the grief by throwing herself into work and fending off Ted’s lawsuits. Then, the Faro Plague happened… and she barely had time to grieve what she thought was Tilda’s death when it was reported that the ship had blown up on the way to Sirius.

Why are all of her exes so damn beautiful?

The Voice croons in restrained amusement, presence warming Elisabet’s back as the Old One straightens and draws herself up for a long over due conversation.

“That’s- That’s wonderful. I-” Tilda hesitantly, reverently, took Lis’ hands in hers. Elisabet let her, knowing she shouldn’t but all the same wanting the familiar touch. “Elisabet, I spent- I spent the last thousand years regretting how we ended. I regretted leaving you here to die with the rest of them and how we left things back then. But now… now, I get to have a second chance.”

Elisabet wants- she-

Elisabet rips her hands out of Tilda’s grasp.

“I don’t want to hear it. I- I thought you died.”

“The… the transmission.” Tilda’s voice gains a modicum of hope. “That wasn’t my idea, but they had thought it necessary. I thought you died, too. You should have come with us, then, then you wouldn’t have had to be frozen for a millennia.”

“That’s rich, coming from you. What was it, Tilda? The thing that you said when we broke things off? Oh, right, that “the nature of my work will make this difficult.” Well, the nature of my work made it difficult.” Her tone is bitter, twisted in hurt and heartbreak. It makes Tilda flinch.

A part of Elisabet, that unkind part she finds in herself in her darkest moments, purrs in satisfaction.

“Lis, you know that I hadn’t meant it like that-”

“No?” Elisabet shoots back, mouth pulling down. Aloy inches away from the two, the rest of the group watching the exchange like a riveting match of machine strike. Sylens rolls his eyes and wanders off into the lab. Elisabet sees all of this, but it doesn’t matter to her. All she saw was the woman that had broken her heart over and over again. “Even if it wasn’t what you meant, you still chose to leave, Tilda. To preserve yourself, if nothing else. You were scared, of how serious we were getting.”

Tilda laces her unfairly elegant fingers together, voice quiet as she agrees. “Yes… I suppose I was.”

“Didn’t you think, for one second, that I was afraid too?”

“… No. I hadn’t thought of that.”

“You betrayed me. You tried to steal GAIA. You lied to me about it. I saw the recording of the reception at the Far Zenith headquarters. I know what your voice sounds like, even if it was modulated.”

The words spill out, faster and more hurt than Aloy had ever heard.

“Lis-” Tilda floats closer, but Elisabet takes a step back. “I- won’t do it this time. I know… I know I disappointed you. I know I broke your heart.”

The Zenith swallows as Elisabet’s heavy gaze landed once more on her face, hurt and disappointment hitting Tilda like a hammer on cold metal. Elisabet’s quiet voice slides in between her ribs, stabbing at Tilda’s slow beating heart and splintering it.

“You chose yourself. Above the world… above me.”

“Please, Elisabet, allow me another chance.”

Elisabet laughs a short, mirthless exhale.

“Even now, you still haven’t even thought to apologize.”

“I’m sorry.” Tilda immediately says. “What can I do? What can I do to apologize? To make it up to you? Anything, Lis. Name it, and it’s yours.”

Elisabet grits her teeth, Tilda’s words reminding her unpleasantly of Ted. But if her relationship with Tilda had taught her anything, it’s that she can use this. Elisabet hates herself for thinking it, but her worry for Beta overrides any moral obligations she might have had.

“Get my daughter back,” she says. “And I’ll think about it.”

“Okay. Alright. Just- I will.”

Elisabet stares at Tilda, at the determined, desperate set of her old flame’s shoulders.

Because she’s not hurt enough, because Lis had hurt more, Elisabet couldn’t help but throw her words into Tilda’s face.

“If the Odyssey actually blew up, I think you would have been worth the tears I shed.”

With that, Elisabet hardens her heart once more and turns away. She doesn’t see the devastation that crosses Tilda’s face, nor does she see the way it crumples from the normally impassive face Tilda sports.

—-

Aloy leans against the table, watching Elisabet absently sifting through data.

“You alright?”

Even though Aloy gentled her voice, Elisabet still startles like a rabbit.

“Ah. Sorry you had to see that, kiddo.” Her mother sends a rueful smile her way. Aloy shrugs, all but silently shaking Elisabet and asking if she’s okay with her eyes alone.

“I’m okay.” Elisabet smiles again, a little more genuine this time. “I’m just worried.”

“About Beta and GAIA?” Aloy asks, nodding. “Don’t worry, I’ll get them back.”

“And about you too, silly.” Elisabet rounds the table and pulls Aloy into a hug.

“Make sure you come back,” she orders her daughter, chin resting on Aloy’s armored shoulders. Not the best for hugs, but Elisabet could give less of a fuck right now. “I want both of you to come back safe and sound, understand?”

“Yeah.” Aloy hugs her back. Elisabet squeezes her daughter tighter, and lets go. “I’ll be okay.”

“You’d better be. If you scare me like that ever again,” - the image of Aloy, pale and injured after the explosion flashes through Lis’ head. “Just- don’t, okay, sweetie?”

“Yeah. Sorry.” Aloy guiltily apologizes, remembering the exhausted state Elisabet was in, looking after her with little sleep. The drawn face coupled with the dark smudges underneath her mother’s eyes had Aloy making sure she was a little more careful on the field.

Elisabet presses a kiss on her forehead, patting the Nora huntress on the shoulder.

“And be careful around Tilda. She’s still- she’s good, at fooling people into thinking she’s on their side.”

“Speaking from experience, mom?”

“Yes,” she sighs, smiling at Aloy’s blatant curiosity. “I’ll tell you later. But, if we’re being honest, I think you have a better eye for figuring out those kinds of deception than I ever was.”

[paranoidginger]

Lab-rat part 24

Tw: N/A

It took some time, but Bait finally came to, hours after he had first regained a flicker of consciousness. He was chilled, despite being tucked in beneath a soft, warm blanket, and he could not help but notice the pain that he was in. Everything was sore, and his chest felt heavy with each breath. Where was he? How had he gotten here?

"Oh dear- finally, you're vaking up!" The Medic's voice was relieved as he moved to the young man's side, hesitating for a moment as Bait flinched, shutting his eyes. "It's okay, junge, I von't hurt you." He spoke softly, gently brushing a small strand of hair out of the clone's face. "Go ahead and keep your eyes closed, I need to run a small test, all you have to do is answer yes or no." Bait nodded slightly, flinching as the doctor carefully took his arm, beginning to poke and prod at his reattached hand, making sure he could feel it and move it properly. It only took a couple of minutes, and surely enough, it confirmed proper reattachment.

"D-don't go..." His voice was quiet, oh so very quiet, a gentle pleading sound that was barely audible. But the Medic heard him, and he stopped, turning back and gently petting the young man's hair.

"How are you feeling, kleiner?" The Medic asked softly, gently releasing the boy's arm. Bait did his best to relax, finally opening his eyes to look at the Medic, his Medic... Not the man in red he had fallen so quickly back into expecting...

"h-hurts..." He didn't have the words to express how he felt, all he could do is wait as tears formed in his eyes, welling up and beginning to pour down his face as quiet sobs escaped his aching form.

"Unfortunately, zhat is to be expected. I'll be able to help ease zhe pain once zhe other medications are out of your system. For now, just try and rest... Everyzhing vill be okay, I promise." He gently patted Bait's head, turning to leave. Bait continued to sob quietly, grasping for the man, only for his weak, heavy limbs to fall short of making contact as the man left his side... He didn't want to be alone...

"I vill be right back, I promise. I am just getting Nikolai from outside, and zhen I'm going to get Spy." He explained softly, offering a slight reassuring smile. He was met with a small nod, and a near-silent 'Ok'. It was clear that Bait was still drowsy, not yet all the way there... That worried the Medic, but he hoped that it would pass. After another moment, he left the small, curtained room, the Blu team's Heavy soon arriving at the younger man's side.

By the time dinner rolled around, Bait was fully awake, although still groggy from the drugs the Red Medic had dosed him with, even though it had been days since he had been initially drugged. He had not eaten the entire time he was in the Red's possession, and it showed. Everyone was glad to see that the newcomer on their team was doing alright, as he was assisted via wheelchair to the common room by the Spy, who looked better than he ever had since the battle when Bait had been lost.

He found himself seated at the end of the table, a near banquet in front of him. His favorite foods, plus some extra, and the soup. The simple, homemade chicken noodle soup that Nikolai had made by hand. He could hardly hold himself back as he began to eat, stopped by a gloved hand on his shoulder.

"Hey there, slow down, son." Mac spoke in his usual southern drawl, whistling sharply to get everyone else's attention, the table going silent as Spy met his gaze. "Spy an' I, we've been thinkin'. You need a proper name... What do you think of Beau? I think it suits you. We chose it for ya." The Engineer smiled, waiting patiently for an answer.

It took him a moment to register what the Engineer was really saying, tears prickling at the corners of his eyes as he looked up to the hardhat wearing man. A name? A real name... For him...

"Beau..." His voice tremored as he spoke, using his palm to begin wiping the tears that had started to fall down his face. "I-I think I like that..."

Part 23

Miss Pauling had returned to the Administrator, relaying the information she had gotten from the Red Spy and calling for a temporary ceasefire. The discussion of what to do with the clone, however... That was a more difficult topic. Let him stay with Blu, and they would need a fresh hire for Red, dispose of him, and Blu could rebel... Clearly they were willing to risk being fired for the sake of the clone, it would be difficult. She would have to lie to all of them... She had choices to make. But for now, she would sleep on it. Sleep on the decision and make a choice once she was awake, bright and early the next morning for her drive up the mountain to the Blu base.

-TO BE CONCLUDED-

@thatonesimp-e @gravitytrips @aniolleq @realccre

[lennsart]

Okay The Dark™ has intrigued me, enlighten me my friend ~

Ooooh so this one is a bit harder to talk about because it is in my wips, but it's not really a story ! It kind of gathers all of my ideas around Dark Link and how I present him in my fics. It's a lot of vibes, and some things that I thought way too much about njfenjejnejez

So here's the gist of it :

- Dark Link isn't one specific Link's shadow. I like the headcanon that he is Time's, but here, he is more of a dark reflection of the Hero's Spirit as a whole.

- This idea is kind of weird (and hard to grasp), but he's both younger and older than every hero. He started to exist recently, but he kind of exists outside of time and space's borders. He has witnessed every hero's quest and knows where his predecessors failed.

- He can change his appearance to look like the heroes, and also to look like a "dark version" of them. And when he does that, depending on who's face he's wearing, he has fun lil powers !

I'm not a 100% sure for these powers, because some of them aren't really related to the hero... Some of them are there as a placeholder until I have a better idea (unless I don't dskkskdkdskds)

But for now, here's what I have :

Four : clones (like Shadow Link do in some of his battles, but also in reference to the Four Sword of course)

Sky : lightnings (like Demise & Sky during the final battle)

Hyrule : puppetering, as in taking control of his adversary for a little time (not really a reference, but since Hyrule has the most magic out of them all I wanted Dark Link to take his face for something a little overpowered lmao)

Legend : mind diving (kind of a reference to Link's awakening in that you spend a lot of time in Legend's head ? I'm not sure about this one)

Twilight : portals, like teleportation (like the way you warp in game)

And for the last four ones, elemental magic

Wind : wind power (it seemed obvious, also one of Wind's power in game)

Warriors : fire (because war -> violence -> fire, but also Volga)

Wild : water (kind of a reference to the shrine of resurrection and Mipha's powers, but also very much a placeholder)

Time : earth/plants ? (because Kokiri forest ? Definitely a placeholder)

I know it would be criminal to not give Time, well, time-based powers, but it felt weird to have only three element out of four ? But also maybe earth would fit Wild more. I have to think about it, up until now when I tried to write fights I avoided using these powers at all fgjkjfdkfdkf

And now that I'm laying this down, I see that I had a pretty good theme of using the villain's powers in game and I just... Kind of dropped it ? Like Demise, Shadow, Volga, and then Time's here with plants lmao

I have to think more about it ! But as you can see, the goal is to have Dark Link be the worst threat every heroes have faced.

- One thing that I like to use is the fact that Dark Link is "fueled" by negative feelings. The more tension there is within the Chain, the more powerful he is.

In the dreaded "Bitch are u okay" wip that I talked about earlier, he more specifically feeds off of "the hatred of a hero for a hero/the hero's spirit". Which means, if two Links hate each other, that's nice for him, but if someone hates themselves, that's perfect as well !

And, as I put it in my notes and made myself snort re-reading them, "he can be nerfed by the power of ✨therapy✨". Which means, if the heroes are honest with each other and a good team, he'll be less powerful. But he knows that and they don't :0 so he'll try to turn them against each other !

- Last but not least, I referred to him as "he" in all this post for clarity, but in most of my wips he has pronouns 💅!

Mostly 'it', sometimes 'they' and sometimes 'he' !

Basically, I used him when I need a powerful antagonist, for fights but also in fics that are more centered around feelings and stuff ! He is both an amalgamation of the worst things in LoZ's bad guys, and occasionally, a (not really well hidden) representation of mental illness.

It's been a while since I've written anything with those ideas though, but seeing them written down makes me want a Dark Link come back in my stories lmao

[pracses]

A rehash of Hardcase’s no good very bad day TW: Death, order 66 (LOTS of death) Injuries, Hardcase gets upsetti. Feat. @hamadaxfighter​​

             He was making sure the younglings they managed to evacuate were all settled on the ship and knew what to do. There weren’t many... but he needed to get them all out of here. He told them all to lose their braids, regardless of whether he came back with the kid or not, he had to make sure they got to safety. He quickly plugged the coordinates in to a planet he was sure was going to be off the radar, somewhere the Republic wasn’t going to be. “Make sure you kids follow what I told you. Get rid of your braids. Beads, whatever you’ve got. Hide your lightsabers. This ship is set to autopilot you to a planet. Do not touch the controls. If I don’t come back in ten minutes, hit the flight button. The ship will take you somewhere safe. Do not leave the ship. You won’t win any trophies trying to be a hero. Stay on the ship or those clones will not hesitate to do to you what they’re doing to everyone else.” He had to make sure the kid was safe.

            Fingers gripped the blaster to set it on his back and replaced his helmet on his head to glance over the young faces before him. One of them, a young togruta, from the looks of it. He moved to grasp the trooper’s hand and gently set something in it, looking up to him. “You gave me this when I met you. I think it gave me good luck... I want you to have it.” Face was hidden by a helmet, but... the trooper looked to the small boy’s face with a small smile. “Please be safe... May the force be with you, Hardcase..”

            The trooper shifted to give him a small pat on the head, attention moving from the children to the temple hangar. “Thank you, Kiaan... All of you be safe.” His hands moved to take his blaster off his back and walk off the ship, hitting the ramp so it would close and hide the kids. They were too young for this. It was his job to protect them. As best as he could. He could do only so much in order to achieve his goal of saving everyone he could.But now he had to double back and check for more survivors. He had to blend in, hide among the troops that were already hostile to the jedi. The trick was not to get killed. By Jedi he was trying to protect or his brothers he would be trying to fool.

            He tried to keep himself as calm as possible, checking among the bodies in the lower part of the temple... Older jedi, archivists. Masters trying to save their younglings. It made him sick. His heart felt heavy. So much felt wrong. So much felt like it was not okay... His brothers weren’t supposed to open fire on jedi... was this what Commander Thorn claimed Fives was trying to prevent? It had to be... So many bodies littered the halls. Getting younger as he went up... He tried to stay as far back as possible. Checking for survivors. It would be the role of a trooper to make sure enemies were downed... it shouldn’t have been suspicious.. Except when Appo was in charge.

            “CT-Fifteen Fourty Five... What are you doing?” He glanced up behind visors to see the newly appointed Commander standing over him, blaster in hand while he was checking vitals of the jedi before him.

            “Making sure they’re gone, sir. It’s protocol.” He could do his best, but he would have to stay ahead of him as far as outsmarting him. If he went ahead, he would make himself a target. He had to be cautious. Especially from here on out. Appo was known to step into his roles and let the power that came with it override his better judgement. He almost wished it was Vaughn here instead. Even in his helmet, he could smell the smoke and death. He couldn’t condone this... but he had to outsmart Appo to keep his friend safe.

            “If they aren’t, blast them.” The response made his face twist in anger. They didn’t deserve this, attempt on that skrag-eating Chancellor’s life or not. He was grateful for the helmet hiding his face, but biting his tongue was the hard part. He had to find Hiro fast... Before these guys found him. It was going to be difficult to make it through here... But he was a heavy arms trooper. The small blasters felt wrong. His own blaster was set on the Resolute still... and there would likely be no way of recovering it once they put an order to hunt him. But he felt the eyes still on him when the new Commander left. He would be watched from here on out.

            By the time he made it through the lower levels of the temple and into the upper levels... he found the young ones... He took a moment to let out a rattled breath, brown eyes showing the sorrow he felt. “I’m so sorry, little ones...” Remorse... pain... how could someone let this happen? Thorn would have already exposed this if not for the Chancellor sending him into a trap. It was a side job for the Commander. He was appointed to locate and expose corruption when he wasn’t on escort duty.But he was forced into retirement when he didn’t die on Scipio. The clones that were in the room with Fives all went missing or turned up dead. That was no coincidence. Kix went missing--and the most he had done was possibly spoken to Fives before his death. It should be brought to the forefront.

            Standing here, he felt the wet streak of a tear down his face as he turned to look away... Some of the younglings here were his friends. Kids that he made time for when he was planetside. He took a breath and left the room, not even checking to see if they were gone... He knew they were. This was done by Skywalker. He moved to start heading for the exit, making sure to sneak around groups of troopers as quickly as possible before he glimpsed Appo speaking to another trooper. “--Find Fifteen Fourty Five... he’s acting suspicious.” Skrag... He moved faster, trying to get himself to the entrance of the Temple only to find that was empty, too... Where was Hiro?

            Helm scanned the steps, finally seeing the little body collapsed against the stairs. He was quick in descending the steps, hands moving to check over the small body, a quiet pained noise leaving him when he accidentally grazed a wound. He was alive? Helm quickly scanned to area before he gently nudged Hiro. “C’mon, kid.. I gotta get you outta here...”

            A jumbled mess of mumbles left the kid, the trooper gently moving to carry him like one would an infant. “Hold onto me, kid. I’m getting you out of here.” Regardless of whether Hiro made it or not, he wasn’t going to make him die here. One hand held Hiro up, the other rested at the base of his neck to support his head. He heard the shouts from the temple entrance starting to get closer, the trooper moving. “I need to run, Hiro. I’m sorry if this hurts, but we have to go.” He wouldn’t have been able to carry Carrie and the kid. His rotary would have to be replaced.

            He moved as quick as he could while carrying the young padawan, holding on tight while he went as as full a sprint as he could once he reached the base of the steps. He heard the sounds of the blasters hitting the ground behind him before he ran into the city and towards a shipyard. They couldn’t lock down a cargo bay. Not when the whole place needed food and supplies... and he would need the same. He reached for a blanket on a nearby vendor while he ran, not stopping to give credits and instead covering the kid so it wouldn’t be obvious he was carrying a jedi.

            He heard the rush of troopers trying to locate him, though it was already too late... he found a cargo ship with some unused armors, medical supplies and a few boxes of food. They would have to do with this. He gently set the kid in a seat and secured him in place, wrapping the blanket with a little blood on it now around him before starting the ship and sitting to make it take off. Ramp closed while the ship hovered upwards, then taking time to get set into flight and going... as soon as he cleared the atmosphere... he put them in hyperspace.They wouldn’t be able to track him from there. He’d have to scramble the ship later. Now was to worry about taking care of the kid... and he needed more than basic medicine... he’d need help..

            Comms were opened... and his first call was to Naboo.. “Commander Thorn... I need to borrow Doss...”

[parttimepuff]

Okay but pixie is definitely bluffing right?

Watching the little thing cry at the screen, the clone made a face at the question. "They aren’t doing a very good job of it…" Di thought aloud. "They already have what they were looking for, it seems." Suzie noted. Pixie just nodded, silent. "Pixie, is this what you wanted?" The scientist asked. "…it's… i-it's close enough." They shakily replied. Gently, she reached over and touched their shoulder. "It isn’t, is it." It was an observation more than a question.

They sniffled quietly. "no…" Pixie relented. "Perhaps we should get some fresh air." Suzie suggested. "That's..." they went rigid, straightened their posture, "…n-no, that's ok." The little thing denied. The shift was noticeable. "Hm… I don’t think staying here is doing you much good." She pressed further. "Really, Pixie is alright here for a little while." Pixie insisted, keeping their tone even.

"She’s being nice, it’s probably a good idea to take her up on it." Di pointed out. They knew. They knew and they couldn't let go. "Pixie does appreciate that, but they'd prefer to stay here." Pixie responded, receiving a skeptical look from him. "Pixie, remember when you agreed that you would stay so long as I did?" The scientist reminded them. "…yes." The little thing hesitantly confirmed. "Are you going back on the word I took you on in good faith?" Suzie pointedly questioned.

"No. You haven't left." Pixie answered. A part of them felt guilty, but how could they just give up? Or, more accurately, how could they move on? "I’m leaving now." The scientist informed them, standing up. "Do you need to?" They persisted. "I think you do." Suzie expressed. "Pixie does not." The little thing countered. "You’re proving my point." She was right.

But they were playing a simple game now. "Isn't it better that you keep an eye on them? They're idle now, but they could do something at any moment." Pixie theorized. "I do." Both responded at once. "More eyes could be useful." They continued. "There's plenty of eyes on it." Di gruffly replied. "Couldn't hurt to have some more." The little thing retorted. "I disagree, respectfully." Suzie said. "Pixie respects your opinion on the matter." Was their quick response.

"And I’m of the opinion we should both get some fresh air, Pixie." Suzie added, just a bit sharper than before. A dead end, they needed to do something. "Pixie can respect your opinion and still disagree." Maybe not that. "Pixie." There was a level of warning in her voice. "Get out." The clone demanded. Bargaining, then, that's what they would do. "Pixie won't take up much space and they can be silent if that's what you'd prefer." The little thing offered.

Di wasn't receptive. "I'd prefer you leave." He insisted. Gently putting her hand around their body, the scientist continued her urging. "I think you know it’s not good for you to keep looking at this." Suzie hoped. They had been looking, without pause, since the clone had startled them before. Eyes forward, they scooted away from her grasp. "Pixie can even do work for you here, they won't be useless."

"I don’t have work that needs doing." Di crossed his arms, staring down at them. "Then, something else. Anything you'd like." Pixie pleaded, trying with less and less success to keep the desperation out of their voice. Her hand moved back to them again, undeterred. "I’d like for you to look at me, and to come with me." The scientist expressed.

They were losing what little ground they had. It was obvious. "s-… something could happen and they could miss it." Pixie angled. "I’ve had to experience such things, you’ll live." Suzie replied, patience wearing ever more thin. "They don't want-" They stopped, cleared their throat. "Please, just… a bit longer." The little thing begged. "No." Really the only reply they could get now.

The end of this charade was drawing ever closer. The little thing began to shiver. "Pixie, look at me." Suzie instructed. With great hesitation, Pixie finally turned to see her instead of the screen. "I know you don’t want to go, but we need to." She told them. "But… isn't there anything Pixie can do to stay?" One final bargain. "Why would you want to. Misery follows wherever it goes, you’re miserable right now." Di pointed out.

At this point, they could try honesty. "It's as close as they can get." They answered. "Why the hell would you want to get closer." Di questioned. Don't snap, be civil. It won't help. "Pixie doubts you'd accept their reasoning." They replied, an edge to their voice nonetheless. "No, you’re right." The clone agreed. "But he’s right, if you’re so miserable, why do you want to stay?" Suzie pressed. "…it's the closest they can get to seeing him…" Pixie mumbled. A truth they didn't want to face.

It wasn't enough to delay the inevitable. "Pixie, it’s time to go." Suzie commanded. Words had failed them, so they hunkered down in place. The moment she picked them up, all their composure shattered. Frantic, Pixie scrambled away from her as far as they could while Suzie grabbed for them like she had in their chase. "NONONONONONONO" The little thing shrieked, darting around the room.

Lunging as well, Di shouted. "SHE ASKED NICELY-" "PIXIE DID TOO STOP PLEASE LET THEM STAY" Pixie screamed, erratically flapping about. "No-" Suzie started, before freezing in her tracks. The clone's headset pinged and he stopped the pursuit, looking at the monitor. Even the little thing screeched to a stop to see. The camera had shifted, looking at D-Mind head on. He was looking back. There was nothing behind the blank stare, just the visage of him staring them down was spinechilling.

For Pixie, though, it wasn't fear precisely that struck them. "E-even now… even now, i-it's not him..!" They sobbed. Despite her pause, Suzie recovered quickly, grabbing them. "It’s not. And we should go." She stated. They had no reaction aside from heartwrenching sobbing. The brief chase over, Di returned to the control panel. "Thank you, Di." Suzie expressed, the clone giving her a thumb's up.

The scientist turned to leave. This was really the end. There was nothing else they could do. Nothing they could say. They could barely see the image on the monitor through their tears. He was leaving. He wasn't even here and he was leaving again. "Pixie just wa-ants to see him…!" They cried. It didn't even slow her pace as Suzie left the room.

[jedipoodoo]

Troublemaker (Hunter x fem!Reader)

Warnings: Stalking, Abusive partner, but they don't have the chance to do anything.

Notes: Inspired by devbendu's tiktok. I just want Hunter to save my arse and sweep me up into his arms okay. This is incredibly self indulgent and nothing else. Cross-posted to AO3, beta-read by @english-professor-mum

Word Count: 3992

"Where are you, you little brat!?"

You groaned. Though you had eyes on all of your friends, they certainly weren't paying attention to you. Your boyfriend shoved aside a clone in an officer's uniform, but he was too busy dancing to care. Your boyfriend gripped your arm, yanking you away from the bar.

"We're leaving. Now." He growled. No one noticed over the sounds of the music.

"Jerrik, stop! I'm their ride home!" You nodded to your friends, dancing with several clones in black and red.

Jerrik sneered and knocked your glass from your hand. "Too bad. I told you not to come here."

The glass shattered on the ground and you winced. "What, just because I'm your girlfriend you think you own me?"

"You think because I told you I love you that you can get away with cheating on me!?" he shot back, spittle spraying all over your face.

"I'm not cheating on you, Jerrik!" You cried, "Rion and the others needed a ride, and I said I would be the designated driver."

"Right," Jerrik snorted, "Every clone is the same. The only reason girls come to 79s is for a one night stand."

You rolled your eyes. "It's not my fault people like it better than your crappy dive in the financial district."

Jerrick sneered. With one hand still strangling your arm, the other came up fast, only to be blocked by a vambrance.

"You don't wanna try that," The unfamiliar clone grunted, his voice deep and smoky. Half of his face was shadowed by a tattoo, his eyebrows narrowed as he sneered at Jerrick.

Jerrick chuckled, and pulled his arm back. "So this is who you're cheating on me with? Never thought you'd go for the bad boys."

"For the last time," you pulled your arm from his grasp, "I am not cheating on you!"

"It's my job to step in when I see someone in trouble," your dark and mysterious hero stepped in between you and Jerrick, "I suggest you leave before you catch more attention than you can handle."

Jerrick laughed, loud and forced. "Really? You're a clone. What are you gonna do to me?"

"You'd be surprised," He smirked.

You bit your lip to hold back a gasp. You knew Jerrick wasn't kidding. He hated clones and considered them good for nothing but cannon fodder. He'd sued the Coruscant guard for loitering on his club grounds, there's no telling what he would do to a clone who managed to hurt him.

The clone looked back at you, blowing his bangs out of his eyes. His hair was longer than most of the others, held back by a bandana, and you noticed that his armor matched the armor of the guys dancing with your friends.

"Are you alright?" He asked, placing himself squarely between you and Jerrick.

You nodded, though your heart was racing a mile a minute. You gripped the bar top to steady yourself.

"Hey Hunter!" the large clone who had been dancing with one of your friends called from across the dance floor, "You doing okay?"

Jerrick paled at the clone's sheer girth, and you couldn't help but giggle.

His piercing eyes snapped back to you, and he tried to lunge around your savior. Hunter-- that was what the big clone had called him-- was too fast for Jerrick, and he hit Jerrick with three precise movements in rapid succession- nose, stomach, throat.

His squad mates gathered round, and your friends finally noticed your distress and ran to your side while Hunter and the others held Jerrick back.

"I'm fine, I'm fine," You promised, though your trembling arms and legs said otherwise.

The big clone held Jerrick in a headlock while his squadmate in goggles seemed to be giving him a lecture, of all things. The skinny clone with silvery hair who had been dancing with Lores called the Coruscaunt Guard while Hunter made his way back to you.

"He's coming back over here!" Rion squealed to you as your friends erupted in twitters at your new turn of fortune.

"I think Wrecker told me he was a Sergeant!" Your other friend put in.

Hunter ignored them, placing his hand on the bar top next to yours. "Are you alright?" He asked again

"Yeah, yeah I think so," You nodded. Despite your status as designated driver, you could really use a drink right now. "Thank you, thank you so much."

He nodded, "Just doing my job."

You weren't quite sure that his job required him to stay with you until the Corries came to drag Jerrick off to their drunk tank, but you certainly didn't mind.

With Jerrick taken care of, your friends wandered back over to their previous dance partners to pick up where they had left off, leaving you and Hunter alone by the bar.

"Is it okay if I buy you a drink?" he asked, hopping up on the stool next to yours.

"I'd like that," You said, indicating your favorite non alcoholic drink. You both exchanged names, though you had already figured his out. It seemed that your friends weren't ready for the evening to end, so you were stuck here. You were exhausted.

"Are you sure there isn't anything else I can do for you?" he asked. You'd barely touched your mocktail.

You shook your hand, "You've already done so much, I can't burden you with anything else."

"It wouldn't be a burden," he promised quickly, and your heartbeat fluttered.

You looked over at all your friends dancing with his. How had he managed not to get snatched up like them? He was certainly just as handsome as every other clone, and you would go so far as to say more so. Jerrick had pointed out the tattoo giving off the bad boy aura that everyone went gaga over, but from what you've seen he had a heart of gold that made him even more swoon-worthy.

Your stomach flip-flopped.

"Would you like to dance?" He asked suddenly.

When you turned to look at him again, he held out his hand and you flinched. Jerrick would be livid if he saw you dancing with someone else.

Hunter knew he'd done something wrong.

"I'm so sorry, I wasn't thinking-" He started to get up, but you grabbed his hand.

"Please, don't go," You gasped. "I'd love to dance."

He paused, looking at your face to make sure you meant it. You wrapped your fingers between his. His shoulders relaxed, and he gave your hand a squeeze as he pulled you out onto the dance floor with the others.

A slow love ballad began playing, for which you were grateful, you didn’t have much energy for anything fast-paced. Hunter’s hands hesitated just over your waist, but relaxed when you placed your hands on his shoulders for balance. You wondered if he might be holding back because of Jerrick, or if this was just a pity thing.

Your head drooped, resting against his chestplate.

“You alright?” Hunter whispered, “We can sit if you need to.”

You didn’t answer. We? Why would he want to stay with you?

Rion burst out of nowhere, stumbling from one shot too many.

“Is it time to go?” You asked.

“Noooo,” Rion whined. You rolled your eyes. It was definitely time.

“Need any help rounding them up?” Hunter chuckled.

Whether or not you needed it, Hunter’s squad (the big one called themselves “the Bad Batch”) escorted your friends and their dance partners to your car like perfect gentlemen. Some were more intoxicated than others, but it was clear that they’d all had a fantastic time.

“We should do this again!” Rion sang, planting a sloppy kiss on the goggled one’s cheek. He blushed profusely, but didn’t seem opposed to the idea. None of them did, as a matter of fact, but you didn’t know how to broach the subject as the designated sober friend of the group.

“Thanks for the help. It was nice to meet all of you.”

“It was nice to meet you too, Ma’am,” the cybernetic one shook your hand while Wrecker tried to get the other two tall ones to join him in singing a Mandalorian anthem.

Hunter rolled his eyes at them, but you giggled. He handed you a napkin with a series of numbers scrawled on it.

"Comm me if he ever tries something. Or...or if you ever need to talk."

You nodded, surprised that he would trouble himself. “Thank you.”

You stared at him for a moment, tempted to say something. But when nothing came to mind you just climbed into the speeder with your friends, half of whom were already asleep.

When you drove away, the Bad Batch was still waiting on the curb, and Hunter’s eyes met yours in the rearview mirror.

“So…you and that cute Sergeant…” Rion prompted, leaning over from the passenger seat.

You giggled nervously, and tucked her head against your shoulder as you drove back to your shared apartment. “Get some sleep, Rion.”

-------

Jerrick tried to text you in the morning. You said it was over and blocked him. Rion and the others made you breakfast to celebrate, and to thank you for being the driver last night.

“Those guys last night were a dream, right?” Rion asked.

“If Crosshair was a dream, I’m heading back to bed.” Lores said. You all erupted into laughter.

“Now sweetie,” Rion turned to face you, “am I imagining things or did the Sergeant give you his comm number?”

You flushed. “Ah….”

Lores pounced at the napkin in your back pocket, holding it up in triumph.

“I knew it! He likes you!” she screeched.

“He does not!” You tried to snatch it back, but she held it out of your reach.

“Does too! He was staring at you all night!” Tia sang. The heat rushed to your face.

“Yeah!” Lores added, and you faltered in your attempt to get the napkin back.

“Sheesh, we all go out drinking and the DD gets more comm numbers than the rest of us,” Fae teased. You shoveled a handful of eggs into your mouth to keep from having to say anything else.

“They’re all on the same squad, though, if we call Sergeant Hunter, we should get the others too,” Rion tapped her chin in thought.

“Oh no…” You gasped.

“Come on! That new holo we’ve been dying to see just came out on holodisc. We can invite all of them over and have a party!” Lores begged you.

A holo-watching party sounded casual enough, and you could use something fun after the disaster last night had been.

Lores held out the napkin, wearing a triumphant smirk upon her face.

You winced inwardly…and dialed.

—---

“The cavalry has arrived!” Wrecker whooped as Rion opened the door for them. The Bad Batch was lucky enough to have a rare couple of days on leave before they were inevitably commed with another assignment. Lores pulled Crosshair to share the easy chair with her, and Tech saved a spot for Rion on the couch without being asked. Soon, the only space left for you was on the two-person easy chair, right next to Hunter. He made sure to give you plenty of space, but the chair was built such that your knees were still touching.

Rion commandeered the remote and started the movie. It was one of those action movies packed with comedy and drama that had been sweeping the galaxy for the last two years in an effort to help people get their minds off the war. The Bad Batch seemed to like it enough, but Tech had to comment on all the technical inaccuracies, and Crosshair had some interesting opinions on the weapons choice of certain characters.

Hunter wasn’t as loud as his brothers, but he watched them all with a fondness that sometimes washed over you. During an intense romantic moment, you leaned back into the chair, only to notice that Hunter’s gaze had slipped from the movie to you.

He quickly redirected his gaze, a blush beneath his skull tattoo, and heat rose in your face.

“I’m gonna make more fondue,” You said loudly, but not so loud as to disturb the movie. You grabbed the bowls for your various snacks, and picked your way across the room to the kitchen.

No sooner had the kitchen door shut behind you than you heard Rion say loudly, “Hey Hunter, you think you could go help her?”

You begged the force that he would refuse and keep watching the movie, but you knew he was too much of a gentleman to not help whenever it was asked of him. A moment later, he stepped into the kitchen as you placed the cheese on the stovetop.

He looked completely lost in such a foreign, domestic field.

“I’m gonna be honest, Rion said I should help, but I don’t know the first thing about making fondue.” He admitted.

You laughed softly. “I appreciate the honesty.”

He grinned back at you, unwrapping a block of cheese like he saw you doing.

Once the cheese was loaded in the pot, you moved on to the chocolate next. Hunter said nothing, but diligently copied your movements. The awkward silence was almost too much for you to bear. You had to get it off your chest.

“Hunter, I’m so sorry about my friends. They seem to think you have a crush on me.”

“Who says they’re wrong?”

Your breath caught in your throat, and you gulped quietly.

“You…you mean…?”

He placed one hand on the counter for lack of something to keep them occupied. “I do like you. Quite a bit, actually. And the only reason all my brothers insisted on coming was so that they could make sure I asked you out.”

You nodded slowly, and for a moment the only sound was the faint laughter of your friends and the Bad Batch enjoying the terrible holo in the other room.

“If you don’t feel the same, please accept my apologies. But if you do feel the same…would you consider going on a date with me?”

You wrung your hands together. “I…I do feel the same, actually.”

Hunter blinked, and seemed frozen in time by your answer. Slowly, a smile tugged at the corner of his cheek, and you offered a small smile in return, but it faded as soon as you tried.

“I do like you, Hunter, it’s just…”

He nodded, waiting for you to continue.

You sighed, your voice tight. “I don’t think I’m ready for a relationship. Not after everything that happened with Jerrick.”

Hunter nodded slowly. There was still that bright spark in his eyes, but his smile faded.

“I understand.” He said.

“I don’t want to make you wait for me,” You said quickly, “I know you’ve probably met a hundred people across the galaxy just like me, and if you want to be in a relationship with any of them, please don’t let me hold you back.”

Hunter chuckled softly. “There’s no one in the galaxy quite like you, mesh’la.”

You blushed, and he shoved his hands into his pockets nervously.

“I don’t mind just being friends, and I don’t mind waiting.” He told you, hesitantly stepping closer. “If it’s for you, I think I’d wait a thousand lifetimes.”

Tears stung your eyes, and you smiled into the back of your hand. Your heart fluttered with his reassurances, and you almost cried.

“Friends, then.”

Hunter nodded.

“Friends.”

You felt like you were walking on air as you showed Hunter around your kitchen to make more of the fondue, though you may have stood a bit closer than necessary watching everything melt on the stove.

The mess was cleaned up, and you lugged the garbage bag over your shoulder. “Will you take the fondue back out to everyone? I’m going to take this to the bin.”

“Sure thing,” Hunter balanced the bowls of chocolate in one hand and the bowls of cheese in the other. Everyone cheered when he came out the door bearing food, and you grinned to yourself as you made your way to the alleyway next to your building where the dumpster was hidden. You loved your friends.

You tossed the bag into the dumpster with a satisfying “thump,” breathing in the fresh night air. Well, as fresh as it could get on Coruscaunt.

“Hey baby.”

You gasped with a jump.

If you didn’t look, maybe it would all be a dream. You gripped the edge of the rusting dumpster, getting some mysterious goo on your fingers.

“Been a long time.”

He wasn’t going to give up. You took a deep breath to soothe your nerves.

“Hello, Jerrick.”

He didn’t look mad, or angry, and you didn’t know if that scared you. The bottle in his hands definitely scared you, though. Spotchka, by the stank wafting around him.

“I missed you,” He smiled lazily, face flushed, and took a couple steps towards you. Your feet didn’t listen to your screams of “RUN!”

“What- what do you want?” Your voice shook.

He frowned, “You’re my girlfriend, aren’t you? Aren’t I allowed to stop by and see my girlfriend?”

Your heart was racing and you stumbled back into the dumpster. There was no one else around.

“Mesh’la!”

You and Jerrick both looked up. Hunter was standing at the foot of the fire escape.

Jerrick sneered. “Oh. You.”

“Get away from her,” Hunter growled, marching towards the both of you.

“She’s mine!” Jerrick held up the bottle as if that would deter him, and Hunter smacked his hand away.

“She’s not anybody’s,” He said, inserting himself between the two of you.

“You’re messing with the wrong guy, clone,” Jerrick slurred. He tapped the bottle against Hunter’s chest, “Touch me again and I’ll get my lawyers on you so fast the whole GAR will be spinning!”

“Hunter, Hunter can we please just go?” You begged, tugging on his sleeve.

Hunter looked back at you, concern flooding his eyes. You were shaking from head to toe and as much as he would love to knock this shabuir down a few pegs, you were his first priority.

He wrapped his arm around you, all but carrying you to the fire escape, but Jerrick was right behind you. He ran at Hunter with a bloodcurdling scream that made your heart seize with fear, but Hunter knew exactly what to do in this kind of situation. His arm swung around, knocking Jerrick in the face. Stunned, Jerrick fell backwards. The bottom of his bottle smashed on the duracrete, but the neck was still clutched in his hand as he lay still.

“Come on,” Hunter guided you back to the ladder, and then pulled it up to keep Jerrick from following you.

“That hit should only stun him for a moment. We have to get you to safety.”

All you could do was nod dazedly as Hunter took out his comlink to update the others. Rion and your friends were waiting at the kitchen window when you two crawled back in. For extra measure, Echo locked the windows too.

“What were you doing down there?” You asked Hunter, still in shock.

“You were taking too long, and the alley smelled like too much alcohol,” He blanched, and Tech handed him a pill for nausea.

You jumped as your name echoed down the hall. All of you ran to the front door, but Hunter pulled you back as his brothers surged forward. Tech hit the lock, sealing it shut.

“Honey, it’s just me,” Jerrick pleaded, “Open the door, let’s just talk!”

Tears stung your eyes. “I should see what he wants-”

“No,” Hunter said firmly, he squeezed your shoulder, “You don’t deserve that.”

“You sure know how to pick them, sweetheart,” Crosshair grunted, bracing himself against the door.

“Shut it,” Hunter hissed, stepping in front of you once more. You grabbed the back of his shirt to ground yourself, struggling to take deep breaths.

“Honey, I know you’re scared, it’s alright! It’s just me! Please open the door!” Jerrick called from the other side of the door. How? How was it alright? He had attacked you and followed you when you’d explicitly told him not to.

Tech sighed as the door rattled, knocking into his goggles. “Quite repetitive, isn’t he?”

“OPEN THE DOOR!” Jerrick screamed, pounding against it with all his might.

Hunter glared. “How long until the Coruscaunt Guard can get here?” He hissed to Echo.

“Five minutes away,” Echo grunted, looking up from his comm.

“DON’T MAKE ME COME IN THERE!” A crash. He’d thrown the remains of his bottle at the door.

“YOU HAVE UNTIL I COUNT TO THREE!”

Hunter turned to Wrecker, who grinned and cracked his knuckles.

“ONE!”

“Stand aside, Cross,” Wrecker gently nudged his brother aside.

“TWO!”

Wrecker hit the release and the door swung open. You peered over Hunter’s shoulder to try and get a good look at Jerrick, but Hunter’s arm kept you from going too far.

“Three!” Wrecker swung his fist into Jerrick’s face, sending him flying into the hall across the wall. You could hear the sickening crack, and choked on a sob.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Hunter turned, still shielding you from Jerrick with his body. “I won’t let him hurt you.”

“He’ll survive,” Tech called back after a quick scan, “He’s simply unconscious.”

“Too bad,” Crosshair flicked a toothpick in Jerrick’s direction like he was a garbage chute. You heard footsteps in the stairwell. The Guard had arrived.

Your legs shook, and you fell into Hunter’s arms. He held you, whispering soft reassurances into your hair and helped you to sit on the floor. He held you while the Corrie’s medic looked you over, he held you while the Lieutenant took your statement, he held you as he gave his own statement, and he held you until you were calm enough to sit up by yourself. Your friends gave their statements to the Guard, staying close by without crowding you.

“Thank you,” You whispered.

“Of course, you’re my friend.” He said without hesitation.

You weren’t aware of time passing, you only knew that Jerrick was gone and Rion was telling the Lieutenant to press charges, if not on your behalf, then for the rest of them for Jerrick’s attempt at breaking into the shared apartment.

Nothing calmed down until a couple hours later. All of you were exhausted.

“Well…do we finish the holo?” Tech asked innocently.

Rion shrugged. “I’m down.”

Murmurs of assent rippled through the room, trying to end the evening on a high note.

Hunter murmured your name, “Do you want to finish the movie, or…” He couldn’t figure out what to suggest.

You took a deep breath. “I think I want to see how it ends.”

Hunter nodded, helping you to your feet.

You squeezed his hand. “Will you hold me?”

It felt so cruel to ask him to do something so intimate when you’d already said no to a relationship, but you needed it. You needed to be held, to be reassured that Jerrick couldn’t get to you.

Hunter didn’t see it that way. You were both grown-up, mature adults. He could hold you during the rest of the movie.

He nodded, pulling you close as you took your place on the easy chair. The movie resumed, though the audience was much more subdued. Tech still made a comment every now and then, and Lores laughed every time Wrecker mimicked an explosion. You took in the holo’s plot with glazed eyes, focusing instead on Hunter’s gentle touch. His arm never strayed from your shoulders, and only squeezed whenever you tried to cuddle closer. He glanced down at your face. He wasn’t very interested in the holo either.

While everyone else was distracted with the movie, he placed a chaste kiss on your forehead. You couldn’t help but smile.

“Sleep, cyar’ika. I’m right here. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

[shootsun]

Requests for drawing or writing prompts? Either way, wukong spying on macaque going on a date, just to "make sure he won't cause trouble" and not for any other reason, nope

I might be a little slow replying to these, but I had a lot of fun writing this, I hope you enjoy :)

(this got long, sorry, and the first bit has quite a bit of mk, but if you can muscle through it, it's very shadowpeach oriented at the end)

/tw slight panic attacks, alcohol, slightly suggestive

------------

It comes up randomly in-between sparring with MK, one moment he’s grinning as he blocks a swing from MK with his leg, and the next he’s sprawled in the dirt on his back, trying to blink away the stars and swirling golden monkeys hooting at him.

“Monkey King!” MK’s panicked voice jolts him upright, and he brushes off the small lurch of pain at the quick movement.

“What did you just say?” Wukong grasps MK’s shoulders, and his successor only looks at him with worry pinched between his eyes.

“Macaque has a date tomorrow?” MK ventures out, and then he squeaks as Wukong hefts him into the air without any forethought. The god crouches and leaps into the air, practically flying from their training ground before landing in front of his hut in mere seconds.

Wukong kicks open the front door and slides into the living room, almost slipping on his rug before carefully tossing MK onto his worn couch.

“Alight,” He claps his hands. “What’s the battle plan? Scouting clones, listening devices? I might have a wire or two here somewhere, the Monkey Cop fans send me some wild shit sometimes.”

“Wait, wait.” MK holds his hands in the air and makes a ‘time out’ motion. “Hold on like three seconds. First, one, are…are you okay? I just like roundhouse kicked you in the face, and there was a crater in the dirt and-”

“I’m fine, bud. Immortal and made out of stone and all that good stuff, remember?” Wukong pauses, taking a moment to flash a reassuring grin at his still concerned student.

“I…yeah, alright.” MK doesn’t look convinced, but he swallows and continues, “Second, what? Battle plan? Clones? Monkey Cop fans? You sound like Mei when you talk about listening devices and that’s a comparison, I’m now very afraid of. Please tell me you haven’t been planting bugs on me.”

“Pshh. Naahhh.” Wukong laughs.

“Mei sends me updates on you every couple of hours. I’m more worried about what Macaque is up to. He said he’d be scheming, and obviously, this is just one step in his devious plan to…to uh…gain allies and take over the city!” Wukong nods sagely and crosses his arms.

“Oh boy.” MK mutters.

“I’m gonna ignore that first bit of information, I just… I don’t think that’s really…what he’s planning?” The teen tries, but golden eyes flash and Wukong half frowns before tilting his head with a cocked eyebrow.

“Then why’d he tell you? He obviously wanted you, and me, to know- Oh! It must be a misdirection! Clever! Good job spotting that obvious trick, bud!” Wukong praises, and MK sighs as he pinches the bridge of his nose.

“I…overheard it actually? He was helping me track down some snake demon that was using shadow magic, and I went to thank him with some noodles, and I…heard him talking about it…” MK says slowly, his shoulders creeping up.

“Why didn’t you tell me earlier? I could have helped, and then you could have avoided him completely. I hate that he still tries to hang out around you. It gives me bad vibes.” Wukong scowls, but the look on his face softens considerably when he looks at MK.

“He’s trying to be better, and you…I… Igetworriedaboutyousometimes.” MK rushes out, now fiddling with the cuffs of his jacket and avoiding his mentor’s eyes.

“I didn’t quite catch that last bit, bud.” Wukong feigns cleaning his ear out with his little finger, and MK just looks at him with a mixture of exasperation and fondness, fighting a smile as the god’s finger rotates and squeaks cartoonishly in the shell of his ear.

“I get worried about you,” Mk admits, finally meeting his teacher’s eyes.

“Kiddo, that’s my line,” Wukong chuckles and then holds his arms out. “C’mere bud.”

MK slowly makes his way past the low coffee table in front of the couch and drapes his arms over Wukong’s shoulders before going boneless, letting the god hold all of his weight.

“I’m okay. You’re okay. We’re both gonna be just fine.” Wukong promises as he scratches the back of MK’s head with one hand, the other rubbing circles on his student’s back.

“I just get anxious, and then I keep thinking about all the bad stuff that could happen if I’m not good enough, and how you all got hurt with LBD and-” MK starts to breathe faster, and Wukong feels a similar spark of fear in his gut as hands unknowingly scrape the scars on his back through his shirt.

“Nope, deep breaths, kid. Come on, breathe in with me for a sec… just like that, yeah.”  The god shuts off his brain, shoving everything but the kid in front of him away, and slowing his breathing, exaggerating each breath until MK follows suit.

They sit in silence for a few minutes, just breathing, and not for the first time, Wukong wishes he could just… keep MK in his pocket or something, keep him safe from everything in his past that reaches for the kid.

He shakes those thoughts away quickly though; his possessive streaks are usually what caused half his problems in the past. That and his blatant disregard for anyone in a position of authority. And maybe his bad habit of putting random things in his mouth and… he’s getting off track here.

“Bud, you wanna take the next day off? We can go to the city; you can show me that game you’re obsessed with and get noodles?” Wukong suggests, pulling back slightly to take better stock of MK’s face as he thinks about the offer.

“No illegal listening devices?” MK quietly asks, rubbing his cheek tiredly.

“I promise, but I can’t say anything about Mei,” Wukong chuckles. MK snorts at that, and makes to get up. The god gives him one final squeeze before reluctantly relinquishing him.

“That sounds great. Meet up at Pigsy’s?” Mk stretches, his back popping with a wince, and Wukong nods.

“Sure thing, bud.” Wukong stays sitting on the floor until MK leaves his hut before he plucks two hairs and materializes two hair clones.

“Alright, one of you, follow MK and make sure he gets home okay, and you,” he points to the second clone as the first scampers off, a flash of golden light blinking in the doorway as it shifts into a falcon and flies off, “Help me up. My butt is numb.”

His clone snickers as his knees pop, and he debates poofing it right then and there, but he still needs to make sure Macaque isn’t planning anything.

The twinge of jealously resurfaces in his heart and he thumps his fist against his chest as his clone looks on.

“Damn thing, you’re supposed to be made of stone,” he crossly mutters to himself.

“So, Macaque’s going on a date then?” His clone raises an eyebrow.   

 “No, he’s planning something,” Wukong corrects.

“Uh huh.”

“Just shut up and help me.”

He debates texting Mei and asking her outright if she knows anything; she’d probably try and hack into cameras and pull up footage from the city or something equally deranged, when his phone buzzes in his pocket.

To his surprise, it’s from Mei.

The text is simple and sweet, just an address and a time, but he feels his stomach swoop with nerves.

He keeps forgetting she’s terrifyingly competent at listening into conversations. He tilts the screen to show his clone and it nods before going the same way as the first; out the door and into falcon form.

The next day comes too soon, and he’s shading his eyes against the morning sun with a barely muffled yawn turned groan before MK leaps from the fire escape of his apartment to the street below.

Wukong is dropping his iced coffee and reaching a hand out to steady the teen as he almost fumbles his landing with a quiet swear.

“MK! Good morning, bud! What was that!” Wukong says, his voice strained and the smile plastered on his face stretched thin.

“Oh. Uh. How I normally get down from my room if I don’t work? It’s pretty fun,” MK grins, and Wukong’s eye twitches against his will.

“Neat.”  The god says through clenched teeth.

MK laughs. “You look like Pigsy when he saw me do that the first time. C’mon! Let’s get some coffee!”

The rest of the day passes in a blur of colour and video games and something called cheese tea before he finally bids MK a farewell sometime midafternoon.

“Bye Da-Monkey King! Bye MonkeyKing!” MK yelps as he runs into Pigsy’s shop.

“See ya, bud,” Wukong calls back, not bothering to hide his grin. His kid waves an arm through the curtain and then Pigsy’s voice booms from the interior of the store. Some thing about ‘noodles’ and ‘hungry’ and ‘invite to dinner’, but he’s turning the corner before anyone can poke their head back out the door.

He’s got an evil plan to thwart.

The address the clone scoped out the night before turned out to be a bar, and a dingy hole in the wall at that.

He makes sure to get there an hour early, knock out one of the patrons he’d seen drinking by themselves, steal their clothes and carefully lay them out of sight on the other side of the dumpster they’d been smoking by.  

It’s nothing to borrow the patron’s face, but he grimaces as a few of his more noticeable traits fade into view. A few of his scars overlay with the mortal’s and he glares at the freckles that dot his now human looking hands.

His side burns still fade into a dark gold, and when he catches his reflection in the tinted window of the back door, his true form glints through. He’d never been the best at human forms after all. A beetle? A louse, bear or boar? No problem. Too many things to go wrong with humans though.

Wukong sighs and straightens his shoulders as he pushes the door open. It’ll have to do.

He sits quietly at the bar, carefully nursing the beer the bartender had pushed at him, when the front door jangles. The sound is barely noticeable over the dull roar of music playing, but the noise still has Wukong’s spine locking up as the door swings open to reveal a familiar form.

Wukong almost shatters the bottle in his hand as he takes in the demon.

Macaque looks good; he’s disguised as a human, wearing black jeans that are artfully ripped up to the pockets and an almost too small tee-shirt that hugs his form nicely, complete with a leather jacket with some silver chains dangling from it.

His tee rides up slightly as he walks in, and Wukong lets his eyes drop for half a second to take in the hips on view before immediately drawing his eyes back up, trying not to flush.

In another bar, he might look like a wannabe biker, but here, he fits in seamlessly. Wukong can’t draw his eyes from the swirl of white that’s threaded through his black hair, nor the goatee that decorates his chin.

Macaque nods to the bartender as he sits a few seats from Wukong, and they slide a glass at him with ease.

He has to quickly look away when Macaque starts to turn towards him, but he’s saved from Macaque attempting to say anything when the door jingles once more.

“Mac!” Macaque turns back to the front of the bar with a grin as a voice calls out.

“Zhang!” The demon practically purrs, and Wukong takes the largest drink of beer since he was handed the bottle to avoid cracking a tooth.

 The other man is dressed similarly, but Wukong has to hold back his scoff. Whereas Macaque seemed weathered and comfortable in his human getup, the demon that saunters over is wearing his glamour like a poorly fit costume. It makes even his glamour look passable in comparison.

‘Zhang’ slides an arm over Macaque’s shoulders and Wukong bites the lip of the bottle, not paying any attention when the glass breaks from the strain, and chews it before swallowing.

The bartender gives him a strange look, and he quickly gets up to throw the half-chewed bottle away before anyone else notices.

“So, this is what passes for a date in the human realm now?” The unfamiliar demon teases as Wukong hurries back to his spot, yet another foul-tasting beer waiting for him.

“What? You wanted to go bowling?” Macaque raises an eyebrow and his drink to his lips as the demon laughs.

“No, no, fair enough. But when you contacted me, I thought it’d be more about-”

“We can talk shop after you finish your drink.” Macaque interrupts, waving a hand to the glass that seems to materialize out of thin air.

Wukong squints at the display. He’s seen enough of Macaque’s slight of hand to know there’s something funky about the drink, but the demon either doesn’t know Macaque as well as he does or doesn’t care enough to ask.

His heart thumps funny at the thought of anyone else knowing Macaque as well as he…did.

He buries himself in his beer, trying desperately not to breathe through his nose as the alcohol hits his tongue, and Macaque laughs at a half assed joke.

‘Just sit through Macaque flirting, and then you can prove he was up to something,’ Wukong tells himself as out of the corner of his eye, he watches a hand slide up Macaque’s arm coyly.

True to his word, Macaque doesn’t make to leave until ‘Zhang’ (that has to be a fake name, Wukong thinks to himself) finishes his drink, and then he’s sliding the other demon’s arm around his waist with a small crooked smirk.

The bartender wipes the counter where they’d sat, pulling a wad of cash out from under the empty singular glass left behind where Macaque had been situated.

Wukong silently swears as he pulls out a few bills, hoping it covers whatever the human’s tab had been and stands to follow them when a hand grips his wrist tightly.

“Johnny, you aren’t thinking of causing trouble for those two, are you?” The bartender scowls.

“What? No! I-I was just… I’m not-” Wukong stutters out.

“I won’t hesitate to tell the cops where you live if I hear anything happening.” The bartender bites out, and with a final warning squeeze, releases Wukong. He stares back at the bartender for a moment more before turning towards the exit, trying to seem like he wasn’t going to bolt as soon as the door swings shut.

He manages to walk all the way to the alley before he sees two forms, the taller one pressed against the wall, the other, with terribly familiar black hair, has their head tilted up.       

Panting fills the alley, and Wukong freezes before creeping behind one of the many dumpsters to catch a closer look.

For a second, his heart bursts in a jealous flame when he hears Macaque lowly say something and chuckle as the other demon whines, but when Wukong uses his golden vision, he sees Macaque’s claws digging into the other demon’s side.

“I want names,” Macaque purrs, and the other demon’s human form flickers before dying out, revealing a bovine demon, one much smaller than DBK.

“I-I don’t know! I’m just the errand boy!” The demon yelps, and Macaque makes a disbelieving noise as he leans forward, his fangs glinting in the moonlight through his glamour.

“Tell me who’s hunting the kid, or you won’t get the antidote.”

“A-antidote? What are you talking about?”

“For the poison I slipped into your drink, foolish thing.” Macaque uses his free hand to raise the demon up by the front of his shirt, sliding him up the bricks.

The demon’s hooves kick uselessly in the air before he pitifully lows out, “The Demon King of Confusion! It’s the Demon King of Confusion!”

“Ugh, him.” Macaque drops the demon, and he slides to the concrete before tugging at Macaque’s knee.

“The antidote, please!” The demon begs.  

Macaque laughs, cruel and high. “Oh, that? I was lying about your drink.”

The monkey demon slips into the shadows and Wukong blinks, biting his lip. He takes a deep breath and regrets it immediately when all he gets is a whiff of hot garbage.

The god releases his grip on the metal canister and tries to ignore the deep hand prints he’s left behind when hands snake up his torso from behind. And then he’s falling, tugged backwards into inky darkness.

“You are not subtle.” Macaque whispers into his ear, and Wukong can’t help his full body shudder as teeth tug at his earlobe before he’s roughly shoved onto his front into a wall.

“What do you want, Wukong?” Macaque presses a clawed hand into the middle of his spine, and he can feel the pinprick of claws through his thin shirt.

“How’d you know it was me?” Wukong asks, finally dropping his glamour.

“Gem, I’d know your stone heartbeat anywhere,” Macaque dryly chuckles. “That, and I watched you eat a glass bottle because some guy put his arms around my shoulders.”

“Ah.”

He presses his cheek further into the wall, savouring the coolness against his rapidly heating face.

“What? All pliant because the kid’s not here?” Macaque taunts and runs his knee in-between Wukong’s legs.

“You’re protecting him.” It’s not a question, and the god can practically hear the demon roll his eyes.

“Duh. Kid’s more danger prone than you are, and that’s saying something. I’ve seen a pile of leaves try to pick a fight with him.”

“Why?” Wukong presses, and he feels the hand leave his back before it’s replaced with Macaque’s warm body.

Macaque is silent for a second before he sighs. “MK’s a good kid. Better than me, and definitely better than you.”

Wukong doesn’t rise to the barb, and Macaque continues. “He sees the good in people, and I…I missed being looked at like I was worth something. Like I wasn’t just a weapon.”

Gold and crimson eyes meet amber and violet, and Wukong whispers, “You were never just anything to me.”  

“Shut up, Peaches,” Macaque mutters, and then there’s lips on his, and a tongue licking his way into his mouth, flooding his senses with the taste of plums.

He moans when a hand tugs at his hair, and he feel Macaque smile against his mouth before the demon pulls away with a wink.

Wukong turns, still leaning against the wall as Macaque dramatically waves an arm to summon his shadow portal.

“We should do this again some time.” Macaque gives a two fingered salute as he starts to step through the swirling shadows.

“It’s a date.” Wukong hoarsely says, and he gets to watch in real time as Macaque’s face flushes and his eyes spark violet before he falls through the portal, leaving the god alone in the city.   

[phoenixyfriend]

SW Prequels "Watch Your Own Series" AU

Does anyone have any "characters watch their own series, things change" recs? Because right now I have a concept stuck in my head and I'm going to be very upset if it doesn't already, to some degree, exist.

Mostly I'm just imagining like

The Prequels group mid-TCW gets to watch The Prequels and possibly TCW08 and like YES everyone is horrified about baby murder 1.0, but then they watch baby murder two-point-oh with the revelation of Skeevy Sheev, and someone quietly comments in the vein of "that makes the timing of Shmi's capture very suspicious, do we have any way of finding out if it was deliberate?"

And Anakin leaves the room to enter a supply closet and just S C R E A M and Obi-Wan just quietly says "well at least the screaming is a better coping mechanism than murder." "he still--" "I know, Mace, I am grasping at straws here."

(What Prequels Group? IDK. Some Jedi and clones. It's happening in the Temple. Whoever I need for maximum controlled chaos.)

So I was discussing this on discord and @atagotiak asked:

Should they watch tcw before or after knowing Sheev is evil? Because he’s transparently pretty evil in tcw but all the same, there’s some plausible deniability most of the time I think he acts directly as a Sith once or twice but he usually has a mostly-face-obscuring hood That doesn’t hide his identity at all effectively but whatever

Aaaaaafter I think

Mostly for "I want people to have some sympathy for Anakin being transparently groomed for seven seasons" reasons, instead of seven seasons of everyone side-eyeing Anakin for being the transparently evil one, when Skeevy Sheev is right there.

I just want Reasons for Anakin to leave the room and scream every little bit as people quietly come to the conclusion that uhhhhhh he needs a mandatory psych hold until further notice, maybe

NGL there's the possibility of Anakin just like. When the council is debating what to do about Sidious because clearly he has backup plans and is a solid fighter, Anakin just escapes through a window and hunts the man down himself.

It's caught on camera and given that Anakin is like That and alone, everyone just kind of reads into it as a psychotic break manifesting in extreme violence due to war trauma (which it arguably is) and then the red sabers come out.

ANYWAY this is all an excuse to have Anakin screaming in a closet while everyone else in this situation just awkwardly looks at each other like "what do we do with the guy that killed babies? It wasn't in a region where there's any legal consequence but it's definitely something that needs repercussions but also we need him for this bullshit war that Skeevy Sheev cooked up, so like..."

"Should we... invite Senator Amidala? To whatever this is?" "Why?" "I mean she definitely has more of an influence on him than anyone else, so--"

OH SHIT

SHIT SHIT SHIT

There BETTER not be any clones in the room when they watch RotS. The order is given and suddenly people are shooting and Jedi are panicking but they've all been on edge since this bullshit started and there's more of them than there are clones, so what ends up happening is sudden sedation of the several clones in the room and "okay we gotta binge-watch this interquel series to figure out what the FUCK just happened and how to fix it."

Unfortunately, it doesn't come up for, what, five and a half seasons? They can't binge-watch all at once for that long unless there's time-warping happening, or it gets suspicious. If they spent twelve hours a day, every day, watching TCW (especially if you tossed in the '03) it’d still take way too long.

So...hm... ask Artoo to process all the video to find the relevant bits.

@purronronner informed me that this is cheating. So be it. They shall cheat!

(Well, or a data-processing droid of some sort.)

Tia asked:

Imagine how much R2 would swear while going through all of this Also is this before or after Hardeen? Also fun, pretty sure before Hardeen means before Maul

Let's go with before.

At least one person points out how stupidly pointless the entire thing is for ANY goal that isn't Getting Obi-Wan Killed and Ruining Anakin's Brain, now that they know Skeevy Sheev is the big bad and had GOALS about Anakin's mental health going kaput.

"THAT FUCKER'S A L I V E?????"

Tia: Oh, hey. Also a thought. The entire council finding out about Anakin’s marriage is, of course, bad for Anakin. You know what’s worse? The entire council finding out about the pear thing. Or the sand thing.

And

Purrs: fkdkkdkdkfkfkc not only did he have a romance, but he got a romance by doing THAT what the fuck, Skywalker the relationship means Code consequences, but the pear thing and the sand thing mean embarrassment forever

Killing babies results in therapy and removal from the field and people never bring it up unless absolutely necessary... but the sand monologue is grounds for eternal mockery.

The (remaining) Council members awkwardly shifting during the "you can't be a Jedi" conversation because like. They didn't KNOW he was a slave when they had that conversation, but presented like this, it's.... really obvious how it looked to bb Anakin.

The council: We didn't know you were a slave, we thought you'd just be going back to a loving family in safety.

Anakin: WELL MAYBE YOU SHOULD HAVE ASKED.

Anakin is. Not correct.

(It was really Qui-Gon's fault for not mentioning it earlier.

ANYWAY

The absolute batshit response people would necessarily have to AotC as presented, because part of it, like, they're having fun watching Obi-Wan be confused as hell on Kamino (the clones in attendance are fondly despairing at how unprepared the Jedi actually are), and rolling their eyes at Anakin's deeply inept romance attempts, and then the horrifying Shmi death, and people are feeling sorry for Anakin because he held his mother as she died after what was clearly an extended period of time being tortured, etc....

And then he confesses to murder on screen, and the video is paused and people start yelling to get answers and demanding an explanation and so on, and otherwise being very "Anakin what the fuck" while Anakin himself is, as expected, freaking out and being very defensive,

And then the movie starts back up and everyone turns to see Ahsoka hit the button and she pauses it again and says "I just... it seems like the timing is a bit suspicious, right? Why was she kidnapped then? And--and Master's never been prone to visions before, so why about her this time? Why right as the war is starting and everyone's so high stress? Why now when he and Obi-Wan were separated? It just... I dunno, when I see it patched together with the clone stuff and how we don't know anything about what's going on there either, I just... I dunno. I was hoping if we kept going, a Sith would show up and start monologuing or something."

"..."

"Skyguy definitely did something wrong and I'm trying not to freak out about that, but also the timing is really sketchy, especially since I'm pretty sure Tuskens don't... usually do that? The torture bit, and killing that many people trying to retrieve the person."

Tia: If they don’t catch on that it’s sus in aotc, rots will give it some interesting perspective Like. Aotc alone isn’t too telling, but if his only other vision leads to that? I don’t think he ever has a vision in tcw anyways

[moonstrider9904]

Command

Chapter 9 of Moonwalker: The Batch

{series masterlist} | {next chapter} {previous chapter}

{join my taglist!} {crossposted to Wattpad} {crossposted to AO3}

Crosshair x Fem!OC, Hunter x Fem!OC

Chapter summary: Despite Sarah's efforts, things take a turn for the worse and it begins to seem impossible for her to leave Kamino alongside Crosshair.

Warnings/tags: Mature (minors still not allowed). Angst, so much angst, love triangles and tensions due to these, language, mild mentions of injury.

A/N: Happy Moonwalker Monday! I have been dreading yet excited for this chapter because it is the fateful separation. See you next Monday with the next update, taking place during the events of Saleucami--and possibly kindling things with Hunter?

Word count: 4.2k

Songs: They Know by MOTTRON

The shock troopers led Sarah all the way to the bottom of the med bay to a room she'd never been in before. It was a rather large chamber that was adjacent to the laboratories with the more advanced equipment, and if she didn't know better, it felt like a room like that one shouldn't have been in the med bay.

It felt more like something that would belong near the brig; it was large and empty, with a table, two chairs, and a control panel, like a spot to question someone and intimidate the answers out of them before throwing them away to rot in a cell.

Three people were waiting for Sarah and the troopers in the ominous room. The first one was Tarkin, whom she'd seen coming. The second person waiting there was Nala Se, who instantly raised all of Sarah's inner alarms, bringing her state of alert to its fullest.

But the third person there, the one who would always make her zone anyone else out, was Crosshair.

Her gaze found him; he was still only in his under-armor suit and his bronze skin had a sickly, pale undertone to it, not the usual warm brown it had, and he looked tired, dismal.

She walked faster, leaving the troopers behind her before she was instructed anything else. Panting, Sarah cupped Crosshair's cheeks and looked into his eyes as she struggled to hide her own despair. His gaze was much harder than before, besides the tired, pained, angry look he already carried, and unlike other times, his gaze didn't soften when he looked at her.

"Are you okay?" She asked him softly as her fingers brushed the skin on the sides of his face.

While Crosshair didn't answer, and he continued to look at her with that same expression, the sound of Tarkin laughing filled the room.

"I might have known from the start that this would be the way to recruit you," he bantered.

"What's going on?" Sarah's tone shifted to an aggressive one, and she protectively grasped Crosshair's wrist. "Why are we here?"

"For the same purpose we discussed earlier," Tarkin replied. "You both excel in your own ways. I have been notified of the state in which you've left the brig. I am still convinced you will show promise in the Empire, and now that your beau is recruited, you will stay."

"Neither one of us is going to fight for you," Sarah barked back. "You're delusional if you think we are."

Credit given to all her confidence, Sarah was cut off by the sight of another two armored clone troopers entering the room, each carrying parts of an entire set of gear. The armor was black and it had the new crest that the Empire was using, and lastly, Sarah noticed another 773-Firepuncher, brand new and updated, being handed to the one trooper who would ever be able to master it.

That armor and gear were meant for Crosshair, and no sooner had the troopers arrived than they began to dress him with it.

Sarah knew Tarkin had brought her there to mess with her mind.

"No," Sarah said, her voice weak and breaking with the knot in her throat.

Still with a hard gaze, Crosshair allowed the troopers to continue to dress him, not uttering a word at the woman in front of him.

"This isn't you," her voice raised its volume as her heart slammed at her chest. She walked up to Crosshair and shoved one of the troopers away from him so that she could be directly in front of him.

"What did they do to you?!" She begged for an answer, eyes sorrowful and reflecting her plea.

She watched a flash of recognition passing through Crosshair's eyes, as though some corner at the back of his mind wanted to claw its way through the shell of this odd, dull, tired exterior they'd made of him. Whatever it was, it didn't manage to surface, and Sarah was already getting her wrists held together behind her, with the barrels of blasters pressed against her back. Sarah was then forced down to her knees as they held her arms extended, and she had a plaster pointed to her neck, rendering her completely immobile.

Tarkin held his hand up, signaling the troopers to stop, and then he looked over at Crosshair to give him a sign of approval.

Sarah's wide eyes drifted to Crosshair as he looked down at her, not trying to murder anyone who was threatening or hurting her, the way he'd done only so recently.

"Sarah," he spoke, his voice deep and eerily monotonous. "Comply."

Sarah began to pant. He had never stood by and said something of the sort. She knew him, she knew her Crosshair, through their imprint, she'd gazed into his very soul, and she knew he wouldn't do that if he were in his right mind.

In her desperation, the only one she could turn to for an answer was Nala Se herself. Sarah's fear-driven gaze found the Kaminoan head scientist, momentarily putting aside her anger if it meant Crosshair could be saved.

"What's happening to him?"

Sarah expected Nala Se to behave smugly at her question, but the Kaminoan's eyes remained intently on her, even if she didn't speak or do anything.

After a few tense moments of silence, Tarkin spoke up again. "CT-9904, you have orders not to harm her. The rest of the squadron you belonged to will suffer the punishment for treason. Now, Sarah."

She evaded his gaze, but it was hopeless. The way she was being held by the soldiers didn't allow her to look away for long, and beside her, Crosshair continued to be given imperial armor by the remaining troopers.

"You are not one to hide your concern for this clone, I must say that," Tarkin spoke again. "Accept to fight for the Empire and you will be granted full pardon as well as continue to serve by his side. All you have to fo is obey."

As Tarkin talked, Sarah noticed Nala Se slightly lifting her head when her eyes landed on her. Sarah kept looking over at her old enemy and, discreetly, Nala Se gestured using only her eyes to her left, pointing at something that was behind Sarah. Nala Se's gaze lingered on that spot for a while before looking over at Sarah, her facial expression remaining unchanged.

But Tarkin had stopped talking, and Sarah needed to see whatever Nala Se was signaling.

"What do you want from me?" She said, struggling in the troopers' grip. "You mentioned Palpatine before, what does he want?"

As she pretended to struggle, Sarah angled herself to quickly see what Nala Se wanted to show her. Tarkin answered, taking Sarah's bait, giving Sarah enough of a window to get a visual.

Strapped to one of the legs of the table was a small, rectangular smoke bomb. There was no logical reason for it to be there other than someone having planted it beforehand, possibly Nala Se thinking she'd need a quick escape now that the Empire was getting more involved in Kamino. Sarah wouldn't even have to move over there to detonate it; a simple blast would suffice.

"Is that understood?" Tarkin asked.

Sarah hesitated, hoping he would take the bait again. "I understand."

She was then allowed to stand, but her arms were still restrained as one of the newly-arrived soldiers walked up to her. As he showed her the imperial armor that would be hers, a set that matched Crosshair's, Nala Se turned around and slowly paced towards the control panel where she grabbed a familiar holopad.

"Governor," she spoke. "It appears the prisoners have escaped."

Tarkin faced the scientist. "What do you mean escaped?"

Sarah knew that was her chance. Rounding up all her strength and speed, she yanked her arms towards her and caused the two troopers restraining her to butt helmets with each other. She then leaned back to dodge the blast from the third trooper, grabbed the barrel of the blaster with one hand using the opposite elbow to impact his helmet, hard enough to knock him out too.

Crosshair was about to reach for Sarah, his arm extended. Sarah was about to take his hand, but she stopped herself when she saw him fully in imperial armor.

As she hesitated, she knew she couldn't waste another second. If this plan failed, she wouldn't be spared a second time, and then Crosshair and her would be trapped. Though her heart ached, she decided to follow the plan and accurately blast the smoke bomb, detonating it and filling the room with a dense, gray fog. With the blaster still in hand, she ran outside and made her way back to the brig.

Not very far from the brig, before turning down one of the main corridors, Sarah crashed into someone much taller than her. Frightened, she aimed with her blaster, but she loudly sighed out her tension when she realized it was Hunter and the others.

"Sarah!" He gasped, his hands grasping her arms as he checked her for any injuries. "Are you alright? Where's Crosshair?"

"Still with Tarkin," she answered. "He's in the med bay, but they might move from there. I barely escaped."

"Okay, hey," Hunter's hands traveled down to her wrists, helping her remain calm. "We're on our way to the hangar, our gear might be there. We get it and we go back for him, alright?"

She nodded and, before they kept running, she tugged on Hunter's hand.

"I don't know what they've done to him, but it's bad," she warned.

"We'll manage," Hunter reassured her, and then he led the way back to the hangar.

As they arrived at the dark hangar, Sarah saw several crates between them and the ship. All of their things were indeed there. As everyone went to armor up, Sarah found the crate where her rifle lay, and at the bottom were the two diamonds, each with their own chains. She secured her diamond around her neck, purposefully allowing it to show, and she kept Crosshair's diamond handy as well, knowing she may need it.

It didn't take long for the others to finish gathering their most important items, and as Tech headed into the ship to ready it for their escape, Sarah closed her eyes to cancel out everything else so she could focus on finding Crosshair. Their bond through the Force had made it easier for her to see him if she focused well enough, and it wasn't long before she found him.

But when she did, she gasped. He, and a squadron of soldiers, were just outside the hangar.

Everyone had the instinct to hide behind the multiple crates scattered around the hangar when the large door opened, revealing a formation of shock troopers backed by Crosshair. Sarah had already seen him in his imperial armor, but the scene took the life out of Hunter and the rest of his brothers.

Sarah was hiding just beside Hunter behind a large box, and she had first-hand view of the way his hope and expectations crumbled to dust as he saw his youngest brother wearing the enemy's armor, and as that shattered, so did her heart.

She saw as Hunter crushed the emotions threatening to overwhelm him, and he turned to her with the fierce determination he always knew.

"Get to the ship," he said. "Make sure Omega gets there safely."

"You're not going anywhere," Crosshair called from across the room. "You really should have killed that Jedi, Hunter."

Hunter then stood up, and he went to face Crosshair directly, standing several meters away from him. A thunderclap lit by lightning thickened the tension between the two brothers, standing at opposing sides when they should have been the biggest of allies.

"You've lost your mind," Hunter spoke, pain riddling his otherwise husky voice.

"You just couldn't see the bigger picture," Crosshair replied to him.

"What happened to you?!" Hunter's voice raised, desperately trying to find an answer as to why his youngest sibling was now turning his rifle on him. "What about us, what about Sarah?!"

"She's staying with me," Crosshair replied. "As she should."

"Crosshair, stop talking nonsense and come with us," Hunter tried to persuade his brother, the plea bleeding through his eyes. "We're your family."

Crosshair remained silent. A quiet struggle flashed through his eyes, but it remained mostly invisible behind the exterior resulting from whatever they'd done to him, a factor still unclear to everyone in the squad. The marksman looked as if he wanted to speak, but, trembling, he took aim with his rifle and fired at Hunter.

"Crosshair, no!" Sarah yelled, horrified at the sight.

Hunter had managed to see the blast coming, and he dodged just in time to take his place back behind the crates beside Sarah and Omega, putting his helmet on again and getting ready to find.

"Get to the ship, now!" Hunter called.

"Let me talk to him!" Sarah answered. "I can get to him."

"Sarah, we need to leave—"

"I'm not leaving him behind and neither are you," she stated, her voice final and powerful.

"We don't have a choice right now," Hunter replied. "We either leave or we get killed."

"You promised!" Sarah said, the sound of blasts in the background nearly muffling her voice.

But Hunter would always hear her, and her words pierced through him harder than any blade could. He knew he'd made a promise to her; he hated the idea of letting her down almost as much as he dreaded leaving Crosshair. Still, Hunter remained speechless behind the crust of his helmet, concealing all his emotion and every one of his thoughts.

"I'm sorry," he said to her. "But I have to protect you and my brothers."

Sarah shook her head, convinced Hunter's mind was set on escaping. She got up and walked to the middle of the battlefield, not caring a bit about the crossfire she'd be caught in.

But at the sight of her, Crosshair lifted his rifle and rested it upright on his shoulder as his free hand went up in a fist, ordering his men to cease fire. He removed his helmet and looked at her, softening ever so slightly as his eyes fell upon the woman for whom he'd never admitted his love out loud.

"Get over here," Crosshair spoke.

"No," Sarah softly shook her head, her voice already breaking with tears announcing themselves. "Cross, listen to me—"

Behind her, her squad took the opportunity to get closer to the Marauder, a detail that didn't escape Crosshair's ever-watchful, hardening gaze.

"If they move again, I order the troopers to open fire," Crosshair growled.

But Sarah used the Force to shove the other troopers back, making them crash onto the wall hard enough for them to be unconscious if only for a few minutes. After that, she held out Crosshair's diamond for him to see, and she noticed that it got his attention just as she'd planned.

"Come," she said softly, bringing his gaze back on hers. "Let's leave."

"Sarah..." Crosshair's voice was the softest any of them had ever heard it.

"You don't have to stay here," she continued as the tears began rolling down her face. "We can leave now, Crosshair. We don't ever have to see this planet again."

Crosshair looked as if he was hesitating.

"Please," Sarah said. "Come with me. Stay with me, Cross... You can tell me what they did to you, and we'll revert it. It'll all go back to normal. We'll be together. Just come with me, please."

But it wasn't enough. Crosshair still remained stoic and hesitant in front of her, making Sarah lose bits of her hope with every second that passed. Streams of tears rolled down the skin of her face, dampening her marks and rolling onto her own diamond around her neck.

"Remember Kashyyyk," she tried to get through to him. "We saved each other. When I woke up, you were there with me. You even smiled at me."

"You told me..." Crosshair began to speak, but he stopped in the middle of his sentence, grimacing through the sharp pain in his head.

"I was about to kiss you and, dammit, I should have! I should have kissed you the first time I wanted you, I should have kept you close!" Sarah sobbed. "Please, just come with me!"

Crosshair's gaze hardened as it look like he was holding back tears, but the shock troopers were beginning to get back up, raising the tensions once more. Sarah and Crosshair still looked at each other, the air cold around them, as the thunder roared just a bit louder.

She refused to look away, if only it meant clinging to the image she held of him. Crosshair, the man with the toothpick fixation, who one-shot dozens of droids to win a competition against his older brother, who saved her life from that centipede, whose life she'd saved too, who'd slept next to her when they were both safe, who had waited at her bedside until she woke up after being poisoned, who had kissed her back...

He was fading, and taking his place was the man who was being forced into everything he would never do.

Crosshair put his helmet back on, concealing himself from Sarah.

"Stun her," he ordered his men. "Eliminate the rest."

Sarah quickly managed the first stun bolt headed her way, her gaze trailed on Crosshair. If she could just get her hands on one of those blasters, she would stun him. She would drag him out of there if she had to. She would refuse to leave him there, in the hands of the Empire where he would be manipulated and corrupted.

As she tried getting rid of the troopers, she heard the Marauder powering up behind her. Crosshair ordered his man to seal the hangar's doors, preventing their escape, but just as Sarah noticed the doors were failing to close, her distraction earned her not a stun bolt, but a dart that electrocuted her and weakened her enough to lose feeling in most of her body, making her drop to the floor.

And then, a smoke bomb was launched. Sarah lost visibility of everything, and she wasn't strong enough to see through the Force. All she could make out was Crosshair getting ready to reach for her, but Wrecker launched himself toward her at the same time and he took out the troopers flanking Crosshair, only for the marksman to fire at Wrecker's shoulder.

Now, they were both down. Echo rushed over as soon as the smoke had cleared, and he helped Wrecker crawl into cover while Hunter risked himself to go and get Sarah.

Just as Crosshair prepared to fire at Hunter, a shot clearer than day, he felt a large, intangible weight press over him, restraining him from being able to move or do anything. His visor found Sarah as she was being taken into Hunter's arms, gently and delicately cradling her figure, as his older brother took her away from him. Sarah's focus didn't break, and Crosshair wasn't able to fire a single blast.

"Let's go!" Hunter called.

"No...!" Sarah yelled, her voice strained. "We can't leave him!"

"Tech, get the ship ready!" Hunter yelled out again.

"It's ready, sarge," Tech said through the comms. "We just need you on here."

"Hunter!" Sarah cried, all but wanting to release Crosshair from her grip if it didn't mean they'd be blasted.

Another tear trailed down Sarah's face when Hunter turned around and ran her over to the Marauder, as she realized Crosshair wouldn't be going with them.

By the time Hunter was running up the platform of the ship with her in his arms, she was weeping. She was so distraught that her Force grip on Crosshair had worn off; despite expecting a blast to hit Hunter, or one of the ship's engines, none came. She was simply sat down to rest on one of the ship's passenger seats while the ship hurried away from Kamino.

They had made it out.

They were all in there except for Crosshair.

***

She sat in front of the Marauder's central holopanel, her gaze lost in space. She looked numb, but all the effects of the electric dart had worn off. She didn't speak a word, her silence was cold and dismal like loss itself. She heard words spoken around her, but she didn't listen. She didn't answer when she was addressed.

All she saw was the image of Crosshair, the last time she saw his eyes before he put his helmet on again.

If she hadn't gotten distracted, she wouldn't have gotten hit by that dart. She would have been able to get him out. Or perhaps she should have stayed longer with him in the med bay, or she should have made sure to escape with him.

There were multiple things she could have done, but none of them had happened.

Now, Crosshair wasn't there anymore. He was alone on Kamino.

He was alone.

Hunter rounded up the courage to go and sit next to her; she could tell his own flame was burning low, but he still seemed more concerned for Sarah than for the brother he'd lost to the Empire.

"How are you?" He asked her quietly.

Sarah looked up at him, but she was unable to speak. The knot in her throat kept her from uttering even a syllable, and she brought her hand to her forehead, frowning hard to keep herself from crying again.

And as Hunter looked at her, she knew her heart wasn't the only one that was broken.

"Not all is lost," Hunter told her. "We have to do what we can with what we have, and what matters now is that you and Wrecker are recovering."

As the others filled the center of the ship, Sarah thought about what Hunter said. She couldn't bring herself to be mad at him; he knew he'd only attempted to save as many of his squad as he could.

From the corner of her eye, Sarah noticed Wrecker nudging Omega, who walked up to her with Lula in her hands, offering the plushie as a symbol of unconditional love, of support, of a wish for someone to recover.

Sarah took the plushie and held it tightly. "Thank you."

Looking at Omega, Sarah thought of Nala Se. She thought perhaps, when she'd helped her escape, she was thinking of Omega. Perhaps she trusted Sarah would help Omega get out safely.

Hunter took Sarah's hand, slowly as though he were hesitating, his fingers lightly brushing the chain that secured Crosshair's diamond.

"What did Tarkin want with you?"

"He wanted to recruit me too," Sarah replied, keeping her hand there below Hunter's, latching onto the sense of warmth and comfort.

"And he tried using Crosshair to get you to do it..." Hunter realized.

"I should have stayed," Sarah admitted. "I shouldn't have left so quickly. Crosshair might have come with us if I had."

"This wasn't your fault," Echo comforted her. "You did all you could, you tried. In the end, there was nothing else we could have done."

The words lingered in Sarah's mind. Heavens knew she had indeed tried to bring Crosshair along.

But despite her efforts, he wasn't there.

Hunter's hand gently squeezed hers. "It's possible Tarkin will come after you. If he knows you're Force-sensitive and wants you to fight for him, he'll try to catch you."

"He'll try to catch all of us," Tech pointed out with a dull edge to his voice.

"I hope he does," anger bled in Sarah's voice. "He better come for me, and he better bring Crosshair with him."

Silence fell on all of them as they watched Sarah, until she sighed and softened her hard eyes at them.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I'll be fine, just... give me a bit of space, okay?"

Echo nodded at her and he began gesturing at the others to return to the cockpit. Before leaving, he briefly met Sarah's eyes with a sad look, and then Sarah was alone again.

She closed her eyes, breaking through her bitter anger to try and focus on her bond with Crosshair, trying to find him through the nothingness and the spiraling thoughts as her hands clutched the diamond, and after a while of darkness, she saw him.

He was walking, his back turned on her. He was hunched ever so slightly, but his posture straightened. Hesitant, Crosshair turned and looked behind him, being met with nothingness while Sarah saw his narrow, pained brown eyes.

And it was too much for her. Her eyes opened and her focus was broken, ridding her from the image of Crosshair. It was only then that she realized she didn't know when she would be able to see him again, if ever.

The tears finally rolled down her face again; she clutched every muscle in her body to keep herself from weeping loudly, as she begged herself to pull through that loss the way she had done the last time she lost someone.

And as if to seal all of their fates, the Marauder then jumped to hyperspace and left Kamino behind.

Taglist: @zoeykallus @sageislostinspring @misogirl828 @dangerousstrawberrypie @salaminus @ladykatakuri @whore4rex @morganlefaye13 @seriowan

Thank you for reading!

[aenaxes]

congrats on 200 my dear!!! i’m so happy i found your writing and look forward to being better friends!!! anywho, the celebration must commence! 🍾 🎉💕 ily!!

for requests, i gotta go w my main man, my first clone love, the darling hardcase (i swear he doesn’t get enough love) 💕 we’re both touch starved adhd fools who love a little too much sometimes and i just wanna smother him w my 🐱 in all the affection he deserves. if you’re up for it, maybe some soft smut for your local bottom? 🥺 i’ve been wanting to get a tattoo that matches his facial markings and wonder how he’d react to seeing it during a gentle moment between the two of you. my pronouns are she/they & i’m 5’6, and i have dark green hair + blue eyes.

you and me & me and you

[hardcase x afab!reader] there is little permanence, and all of them are fleeting, in a war that tips its scales with each new dawn. so while hardcase is away, you decide you’ll carve out your own constant between you and him, and him and you.

warnings: tattoos, unprotected vaginal sex, mushy gooey feelings pt.2

w/c: 2.8k

a/n: my love for hardcase grows day by day, and every day i wake up and cry a little bit because he isn’t real. but it's ok bc ily jj and you're very much real 💕

Seldom do you find Hardcase stunned into complete silence.

Stillness shared between you and Hardcase, rare as those moments may be, is never truly silent. Tackling each other onto the couch, stealing late-night speeder joyrides, sharing the kind of banter that doubles you over so hard your ribs sting for hours afterwards—the energy, the light, linger in the spaces left behind.

But this time, Hardcase simply stares, jaw slack and eyes wide as your fingers curl over the lifted hem of your shirt. No wisecrack quip, no teasing wink, not even so much as a low whistle as you tug your shirt over your head and drop it behind you, straddling his lap over the edge of the bed.

Eyes full of stars, he gawks.

“You—those’re my—hm, okay, wow, uh, hah—” Hardcase’s voice pitches high as his lips open and close around half-formed words.

You watch the whole spectacle as he gasps like a landed fish, grasping for wisps of coherence. And you can’t help the giggle that rises from your throat when he forgoes words entirely and trails off into a breathless half-whimper half-laugh.

“Can I—” he says at last, and his voice cracks hoarse through his sputtering attempt to regain what little composure he had. “Can I touch it?”

At your nod, Hardcase reaches forwards just enough that his fingertips barely brush over your chest. You don’t dare look down to where his calloused fingers meet the skin above your ribs, too afraid that if you take your eyes from Hardcase’s face for even a single heartbeat that you might miss a precious moment of the awestruck wonder in his expression. You find yourself as transfixed as he as you watch him trace the trio of royal blue ink arcing down your sternum and tapering off into twin circles that cradle the curve of your chest.

It’s what this whole evening has been leading up to—your grand reveal kickstarted by his signature lung-crushing hug on the hangar bay. You had braced for it harder than usual when he’d swept you into his arms and lifted you off the dusty platform steel, readying for the particularly bruising ache that comes with the week-old ink needled over the base of your ribs.

To be fair, it wasn’t possible to greet Hardcase without creating some sort of commotion. Even if it was just shy of a week on planetside escort duty, once the gunship was within a metre of the dusty landing bay durasteel, landing protocols be damned, Hardcase would hit the ground running, tossing his helmet behind him and swooping you into his arms. The sheer, unadulterated joy of reunion always found home in how he squeezed you around your middle and spun you about; it was always worth the solid smack over the back of his head (stern, from Rex and, gleefully, from Jesse) for throwing his bucket aside.

But when you had met him with more of a pained grunt than your usual tittering exclamation, Hardcase had dropped you so quickly you’d almost fallen backwards if not for his reflexes to steady you. When he’d stumbled over wide-eyed apologies (and braced past Jesse’s open-palmed whap over his head), you had only laughed and told him to wait until after you had run inventory with Rex.

His fingers finally pause their slow trace over the tattoo on your chest. He feels, sees himself, an emblem on your skin. And when he looks up, he sees you.

“Tats are sore for a bit, ‘Case,” you smile. His eyes are so wide you’re certain if you look just a little more, you’d see yourself in him. You and he, he and you, the same, the same, one. “‘s why I flinched a little.”

Hardcase’s lips open and part around soundless words a few more times, still floating in some limbo between processing disbelief and boundless excitement before he unevenly clears his throat and finally speaks.

“You—you got me inked on you?” Hardcase whispers. Each word has the corners of his lips curling higher as if he had to speak into realization what stood before him; as if his fingertips pressing tender divots into your skin were proof only of the flesh: a universal truth that only needed words to find home in his heart.

You nod, grinning.

“Wanted to have a part of you with me for while you’re away.”

And for a moment, Hardcase’s fingers are the only motion in a still room, stroking soft, repetitive motions over the blue ink of your—his—tattoo.

You silently brace for something loud and present, excited rambling, another crushing hug, affection swept wide and open before you. Instead, Hardcase lets free a single breathless huff and tugs you close.

“You know those are forever, right?” he laughs, his voice rising again.

“That’s why I got it,” you respond, and his laughter only grows brighter.

Hardcase buries his nose into your chest with a groan, and that precious crest of joy bursts over your tongue when you throw your head back and laugh. Gilded and honeyed light finds home in your chest.

“Mesh’la, I need you so bad right now,” Hardcase groans as he brings his arms snug around your waist. And his laughter joins yours this time, voices swelling together when Hardcase rests his brow against your skin and pulls you in close. You make quick work of the rest of your clothes, throwing them somewhere off to the bedside before you sit back down over the firm lines of his thighs.

“I mean, yeah, I sure hope so—was the whole point ‘Case,” you tease, and Hardcase groans, carrying something of breathless disbelief and affection and desire curled into a single whimpering sound.

And as soon as you’re squeezing over his shoulders, suddenly, you feel your gravity tilt, and you yelp as your back connects with the bedspread.

Hardcase cages you under him, one arm propped by your head as the other slips from beneath the small of your back and trails its way back to the centre of your chest, hovering just at the edges of your tattoo. He lingers, treading those shallow waters for a moment more. But where you expect the familiar drag of his blunt nails over the bold lines of blue ink, he dips low. Instead, you gasp when his fingers are replaced by his lips, warm, inviting, home as he presses a single, lingering kiss over the sigil branded into your skin.

“‘Case!” you giggle and kick out your legs at the sudden flick of his tongue over your chest. You feel him laugh into your skin, his breath wisping over where his lips just brush over the edges of the tattoo.

He ghosts one more touch, drawn long and yet chaste in how he nuzzles the tip of his nose into your chest. And the bubbling laughter of before wanes, complete, when he lifts his chin and meets you with the hushed whispers of a smile on his parted lips.

Because it’s him, finding home over the base of your ribs.

It’s him, reflected back into his wide eyes.

It’s you.

He doesn’t surge up to meet you. He doesn’t kiss you with that unabashed brilliance that crushes your lips together so hard your teeth clack. The breath catches in your throat as you watch him move in silence. There is no overexuberant joy when Hardcase shifts higher up on the bed to meet your eyes and slowly runs his thumb over your lower lip. Even then, his touch is so achingly still, deliberation held close and savored slow.

He blinks once, dark eyes full of the soft light only privy to early mornings and late nights when you curl close and bask in each other, bared and whole. You grant his request without hesitation.

Starting low, your fingers smooth over the faded lines of blue tattooed over Hardcase’s chin, the same sigils you keep as your own. Well worn and faded until the line between ink and skin disappeared entirely, the tattoos beneath your fingertips are nothing and everything like yours. You trace higher, following the crest of his lip, the high line of his cheekbone, the dip just beneath his eye where his tattoo begins anew.

He closes his eyes and lets your touch trail over his lashes until your fingers slope over his temple and still over the base of his head. And when he dips his head low, you meet him in the middle, catching his upper lip between yours as he slips one hand between you and thumbs over your tattoo. That touch anchors you as much as you think it must do the same for him, pulling you close and keeping you there while you lick over his lips and breathe him in deep.

Through the warmth heavy in your gut, you feel him slide his other hand down your side, over the contour of your hip, and lift your leg up against him. You hook your leg over the small of his back and tug awkwardly, sending him stumbling forwards, crushing his hand between your chests as he dips down and narrowly catches himself.

No amount of awkward maneuvering breaks the rosy air between you, even as you both tear away from each other to stifle the kind of laughter that lingers.

“This okay?” he murmurs over the waning sigh of a low chuckle, voice warm on your skin and drunk with your taste. He nudges his hips forward, sending a shiver shocking up your spine when you feel his cock brush up against the swell of your cunt.

“Always, Hardcase,” you whisper.

As soon as the words leave your lips, you barely have enough time to suck in another breath before you’re stuttering on your own tongue. The tension slumps out of your shoulders as Hardcase digs his fingertips into your thigh and presses forwards, stretching you out around him in the way only he knows how, setting fire to your nerves and coming home all at once.

No matter how many times you kneel before ritual—habit coming to you as natural and comforting as breath itself—you still find yourself slack-jawed and starry-eyed as Hardcase pushes into you.

That it’s the first time in his four month tour that he’s able to pull you apart and hold you together only makes it better.

It takes all of one long, shuddering exhale for him to push into you in full. The breath you share breaks that stillness, a gasping inhale as his hips connect with the soft curve of your thighs and has the blunt head of his cock nudging so deep in you that you swear you feel the pulse at the base of your ribs, right where your tattoo swells with your whimpering.

Hardcase drops forward with a groan, blindly twining his fingers with yours and leaning down to press his forehead close against yours.

You don’t have to open your eyes to see him as you squeeze his hand. The bridge of his nose flush against yours, you bask, exchanging the warmth of breath over the little space between your lips. With his brow pressed into yours, he surrounds you, warmth, warmth, warmth, a setting sun and the grass it kisses still glowing in its wake. He rolls his hips forwards and swallows your wailing moan with his tongue.

Hardcase starts slow, setting a pace that has you feeling every long drag inside you as he draws back then crushes back up against the soft spot inside you that curls your toes. It’s a far cry from the excitement of a welcome back or rendezvous reunion, swapping giddy haste to savor instead, to melt over his tongue as Hardcase slips his free arm under your hips and tugs you impossibly close.

Through the blissed-out tears beaded over your lashes, you can just make out his expression, tense with cresting pleasure, as he leans back and admires you, stretched out before him. And when your legs jerk this time, there is no achingly deep pressure of his cock heavy inside you—only his lips over the centre of your chest as he bows low and kisses your tattoo again, again, laying and sealing claim above the rapid flutter of your heart.

You squeeze his hand, and he lifts his chin to meet your hazy eyes with his own, full with intent, desire, the kind of loyalty transcendent above anything he could ever swear to his generals, to his cause. He squeezes back.

You drop your head back onto the bed when he picks up his pace again, moving his free hand out from under you to stroke his thumb over your clit and smearing the mess of your arousal and his precome over where you stretch around him. Chest heaving, you can only sob and grip tight around his neck as he leans back over you and nuzzles his nose into your collar.

It’s getting harder and harder to tell your breaths apart from his after one stuttering thrust gives way to another. The steady tenderness of before bows under the fizzling heat in your stomach, giving in to rawer need as Hardcase’s movements over your clit fumble erratic. He snaps his hips against yours and drives up hard against your pleasure, mumbling unknowable words under his breath. Desperate for more, you shift back to meet what thrusts you can.

When he leans forwards again, his brow unsteadily knocks against your nose before he can nuzzle over your forehead and press close. You might have laughed, taken the moment to catch your breath over the clumsiness of affections swelling high. But you’re too busy chasing your own pleasure, too enamored with the wet friction of his throbbing cock sliding into your cunt.

Hardcase comes first, thundering rigid through him as he buries his nose at the juncture of your neck and bites down over his own teeth, his jaw flexing against your skin. His tension spreads through you, holds you by your breath and seizes the mounting want in your stomach tight with each heavy spurt of come he grinds into you.

You nose up against his temple—a silent plea for touch even deeper than you already feel it—and he indulges you. Hazy in the aftershocks of his orgasm, Hardcase lifts his head from your collar and crushes his lips against yours. He breathes in your heaving exhales as he kisses you, all open-mouthed warmth coaxing your pleasure.

“So lucky,” Hardcase mumbles, his puffing exhales over your lips matching every thrust into your dripping cunt. “Maker, I’m so fuckin’ lucky.”

Before you can strain some half-hearted tease in response, you’re too delirious on your rousing high. All you can manage is a soundless cry that shocks straight to the white-hot heat welled low in your stomach. Hardcase rolls his calloused thumb over your clit one last time and pulls your orgasm heady and low beneath him.

Pleasure bursts over your tongue, thrumming through you hard enough you swear you black out. Nothing but paralyzing and indulgent sensation shocks through you. There is only Hardcase’s presence to anchor you to the moment in the most intimate signs of life: shared breath, fingers laced tight with yours, lips mouthing words that need neither name nor sound to find warmth at the bottom of your chest.

And when the moment subsides and the ringing in your ears fades, you open your eyes to him, glowing with exhaustion but beaming down on you all the same.

“Maker’s really lookin’ out for me,” Hardcase says at last, brushing his fingertips over the sweat beaded at your temple.

“Yeah?”

You tug him closer against your chest (as well as you can with the tremble in your arms). He follows your lead as you feel him softening inside you, and he settles his nose close over your tattoo, just beneath your beating heart.

“I mean, whatever it is, it got me you.”

“You got me you, ‘Case,” you say. Though the air between you is far from the kind of existential solemnity that demands silence, your attempt to laugh comes only as a soft whisper, hushed as your lips brush over the crown of his head.

Because whatever was up there, pulling those galactic tides and willing life into the universe, even if it had tied those fine red strings strong and true between you and the man curled around you, it didn’t matter. At the end of the day, it was you and him, brought together in a headfirst collision in the cold steel halls of a Jedi cruiser and bound tight over shy planetside advances and cheesy dates.

“Then I got you, and you got me?” Hardcase chuckles, lifting his head and meeting your fond gaze.

“Just us,” you laugh.

Hardcase makes a soft noise of affirmation, his arms pulling snug around your middle. He nuzzles close skin over skin, and when he kisses over your tattoo, the sting of ink and needles fades into a distant memory unknown—all worth the trembling touches he presses over the place you’ve carved out for him alone.

Maybe the Maker helped along the way, but it’s always been you and him, him and you.

[lunar-wandering]

hey @winterpower98 guess what-

 here’s part 3

-

"You know, I'm starting to think maybe Monkey King is right about caves." MK said, leaning against Macaque's shoulder for support. "Thus far, we haven't had a really good track record with them."

"If you don't shut up right now I'm going to let you fall, injured leg be damned." Macaque said, shifting his hold to be able to support MK a little better as he wobbled.

Earlier in the day, the group of three had stumbled across a cave. MK had insisted on checking it out, but Wukong had outright refused to go in. After some arguing back and forth, Macaque had eventually given an irritated sigh, and grabbed MK's arm, marching into the cave and ignoring Wukong's yells for them to "be careful!".

...Of course, him ignoring Wukong's warning ended up resulting in karma rearing its head, causing a small cave in. Nothing really big, but enough to seal off the way back, and for a rock to hit MK in the leg, creating a long, bleeding, gash. Macaque had ended up sacrificing his scarf to bandage the injury, just to make sure MK didn't bleed out.

Which lead to where they were now, MK being supported by Macaque as they walked through the cave, with MK trying to make jokes, whether to lighten the mood or distract himself, Macaque wasn't sure. He was sure that there was another exit though, he could both feel and hear the wind blowing through the cavern, so all they had to do was just find it.

Which was... turning out to be a bit harder than it should've been.

Macaque suddenly stopped, MK swaying a little at the sudden lack of movement.

"What are you-"

"Shh. I hear something." Macaque said, tilting his head a little and flicking his ears, before turning, and slowly setting MK down so that he was sitting on the floor of the cave, his back against the wall. "...Stay here, I'll go check it out."

"No." MK said, grabbing hold of Macaque's wrist. "Don't. Don't leave me alone."

Macaque paused, glancing further into the cave, before looking back at MK. He took in the injured leg, the trembling tail, the way MK almost looked like he was about to start crying-

....Fuck, he'd gone soft.

"Okay, okay." Macaque said, kneeling down, "How about this."

He pressed his hand into MK's shadow, and pushed a bit of energy into it. Slowly, MK's shadow changed shape, morphing until it was exactly like Macaque's own shadow. Then, Macaque grasped onto it, and pulled.

A shadow clone popped out, it was only half formed, still a bit see through, but it was there. Macaque sighed as he stood back up, trying to not show just how much doing that had drained him. At least, since it was connected to MK's shadow, it wouldn't drain him of all his energy too quickly...

"There." Macaque said, "Now you're not alone. I'm going to look ahead, the clone will notify me if anything happens, okay?"

MK gave a little nod, and Macaque turned, and walked off into the darkness.

Leaving MK alone. ...With the shadow clone.

For a few minutes, MK was quiet. But....he was alone. In a cave. With an injured leg.

He needed something to distract himself with.

"So, uh, what do you think about Mon-" He started-

"Don't." The shadow clone interrupted, it's voice slightly warbled due to being half-formed. "Don't even think about it. I'm not like Wukong's clones, I'm not going to give away information so easily."

"....Oh. Sorry." MK said, disappointed, looking down at the ground.

"Ah, you didn't let me finish." The clone said, a sneaking grin on it's face. "I might be willing to talk, should you have something of equal interest to share...."

-

As it turned out, the sound Macaque had been hearing had been nothing but a small group of demons. Nothing a little bit of threatening and bluffing couldn't get rid off, so he chased them off, although not before he got one of them to tell him the way out.

Repeating the mental map of where he needed to go in his mind, he walked back to where he'd left MK and the clone.

...Only to hear a conversation he absolutely did not want to have happening.

"So, now that I've told you that...." MK's voice said, ".....What does Macaque think about Monkey King?"

Macaque froze, one foot ready to take the next step around the corner. He knew that he should rush around, dispel the clone, make sure that there was no answer, but for some reason he just. Couldn't seem to move.

"Oh, is that all you want to know?" The clone said, "Well, I think you already know the answer, he's still totally in lo-"

That seemed to be enough to break whatever was keeping Macaque still, as he rushed around the corner, kicking the shadow clone in the face as he dispelled it.

There was a moment of silence as MK and Macaque stared at each other. Then, MK smirked, before bursting into laughter. Macaque sighed, falling backwards and laying on the ground, staring at the roof of the cave, almost wishing the rocks would cave in on him right then and there.

"Wukong was right." He settled on saying, "Stupid clones really don't know how to shut up."

"Oh, so you overheard that conversation?" MK asked, "Well, that makes this a lot easier!"

"No it doesn't." Macaque hissed.

"Why not? You love him, you know he loves you back, you two talk about it, and then you get together, boom, easy!" MK explained, moving his arms around and making sound effects to accompany his point.

"Kid, clearly you have never experienced a real relationship." Macaque said, sitting back up to look at MK with the most disapproving face he could muster.

"But I've watched shows!" MK said, "I write fanfiction- I know how this kind of stuff plays out."

"Fan-what???"

MK paused for a moment.

"....I'll explain that to you later, right now, we're discussing your love life." He said, and Macaque groaned, flopping back onto the ground dramatically.

"I really rather we'd not-"

"Oh, but we will." MK said, smirking. "You, know, in retrospect, I really should've caught on the moment you described you and the Monkey King as being like the 'sun and moon', like, that's the gayest thing I've ever heard-"

"Shut up." Macaque hissed, using his hands to cover his face. "Gods, I thought I was over this-"

"But you're not." MK said, "So, what are you going to do?"

"Repress all of it until it goes away." Was Macaque's immediate response. MK used his good leg to kick Macaque in the side.

"Wrong answer." He said, ignoring how Macaque glared at him. "You're going to talk things out with Monkey King."

"Absolutely not." Macaque said, fur bristling. "That- that has 'terrible, no good idea' written all over it."

"Why are you so resistant to this?" MK asked, "What, are you scared?"

...He didn't get an answer.

"Oh my gods, you are scared."

"I am not." Macaque said, but considering he was very obviously avoiding looking MK in the eyes, he wasn't being very convincing.

"I mean, it's not like I can blame you-" MK said, "I mean, I've heard the stories and man, that's one hell of a breakup, but like, things are different now-"

"I'm not talking to him about this, and that's final." Macaque said, standing up in one fluid motion, clearly signalling that he was done with this conversation. Without even giving a bit of warning, he pulled MK up, throwing an arm around him to keep him steady. "C'mon, let's get out of this stupid cave already. I'm sure Peaches is having a heart attack over how long we're taking."

"Oh my gods you even call him Peaches that's so gay-"

"Shut the fuck up."

[treesnutsandleaveswrites]

Rescue Mission

Pairing: The Bad Batch x Reader (Polyam)

Summary: The Batch agrees to help Hera save her parents; you encounter a familiar face

Warning: angst, TW: PTSD episode, TW: panic/anxiety attack, mentions of shooting and violence

Word Count: 2048

A/N: Won't be updating constantly, but sorry for keeping you all waiting

pt xvi, pt xviii

XXXXXXX

You and the Batch were looking over the city's capitol, trying to figure out what’s going on. You looked through one of your sniper scopes, having detached it from your rifle, and observed the heavily guarded area. Some people started to gather as Admiral Rampart made an announcement, which you listened to through Chopper’s satellite.

“Citizens of Ryloth, the shocking attack of your beloved Senator has left you shaken, but Orn Free Taa’s condition continues to improve and he will make a full recovery. The perpetrators of this heinous assasination attempt have been captured…”

Hunter looked up from his binoculars and over to Hera, “Assasination attempt?”

Hera shook her head, “That’s not what happened.”

You looked at Hunter for a moment before Omega spoke up.

“Hunter… Crosshair’s here.”

You took in a sharp breath as you looked through your scope and saw his familiar baster rifle and him in his new Imperial armor.

“Great. Just what we need!” Wrecker grumbled.

Hunter then gestured for the boys to huddle, so you took a bit to watch Crosshair before turning the girls.

“Keep an eye on the Capitol.” You ordered Omega and Hera, then put on your helmet before joining the boys.

“Ryloth’s not a separatist planet.” Echo said mid-coversation.

“Exactly my point.” Tech stated and went on about who knows what. You tried to listen to him, but you could see a change in Hunter’s demeanor.

“Wait here.” Hunter ordered as he rushed off.

You waited with the others before an Imperial probe droid came crashing down near all of you.

“Oh good… a probe droid.” Tech sighed.

“The Empire will know we’re here.” Echo announced.

“And so will Crosshair.” You said in unison with Hunter.

“Let’s move.” Hunter ordered, so everyone started following. Hera took a moment before being pulled by Omega with Chopper behind them. You were near frozen in your spot due to the thought of possibly reuniting with Crosshair. Echo was near the back, trying to make sure no one was left behind. He turned and saw you still in your place, then he went to you before grasping your hand tight.

“We can’t stay, mesh’la.” He insisted, which caused you to nod and follow him back to the Marauder.

You sat of the Marauder’s steps as the Batch talked with Hera.

“I told you… no guarantees. We’ll get you off world and take you somewhere safe.”

“Wait! Please!” Hera pulled at Hunter, “I’ll pay you double!”

“No money in the galaxy will matter if we’re dead! What you’re asking us to do is not worth the risk.”

Hera took a moment to look at him, “Not to you.” She rushed off. The boys started to head to the Marauder, but Omega stayed back.

“You shouldn’t have said that!”

“Being strategic means knowing your limitations, Omega.”

“She’s trying to save her family! I would do the same for you.” Omega retorted before following Hera. Hunter took a moment to process her words before turning towards the ship and seeing you still sitting on the steps. You hadn’t taken off your helmet since you got back to the base, but Hunter could sense the rigidness of your stature. He crouched down in front of you and placed his hands on either side of your helmet before gently lifting it from your head. You were pale and had tear streaks staining your cheeks. Hunter was surprised at first, but came to realise what was wrong. It was similar to your small episode in the fresher just recently. You were suffering from plasma shock… Hunter placed your helmet to the side and carefully caressed your wet skin.

“I know, cyare… I know…” He whispered before picking up your helmet, then hooking an arm around your waist to help you onto the cruiser. He sat you down and stood between your legs with his face in your hands. He did his best to coax you through the process of a plasma shock episode and made sure his attention was undivided just in case anything else happened. Once he sensed your calm breathing and heart rate, he moved away.

“I’ll be right back… just take your time, my love.” He hooked your chin endearingly before heading to the cockpit. You stay seated for a bit before Omega and Hera rushed onto the ship, straight into the cockpit. You were about the get up to see what was happening, but then D-5 rolled over to you quickly and bumped your foot.

“Star! S-s-s-star!”

You smiled weakly before picking him up and looking at him, “You haven’t broken anything have you?”

“All-all better!”

You hummed before placing him down and following his trail as he rolled into the cockpit. Yo stood at the threshold as Hunter spoke.

“Alright, you two go with Chopper as back up, but at a distance.”

The girls got excited, which caused Tech to speak up.

“By themselves?”

“Tech, Wrecker, wait until those canons are down, then move in. Echo and I will scale the Capitol wall and free Hera’s parents.” He looked down at Hera, “I guess we’re following your lead!”

Omega saw you at the threshold and grinned, “Did you hear that, Lodestar?”

You nodded with a smile, “Yeah. I know you’re just getting started with this mission stuff, but you’ve got clone blood in you. Just be careful, okay?” You approached her and cupped her face.

“Where will you be?” Hera wondered with excitement in her eyes.

“I’ll join Hunter and Echo at the Capitol. Freeing people is my thing, remember?”

Everyone looked to each other before dispersing to prepare.

*******

You walked cautiously with Hunter and Echo, approaching the walls of the Capitol. You nodded to Hunter as you all readied to scale the wall. Hunter crouched, offering you a boost before helping Echo and then jumping up himself. It was a fairly quick process and you climbed over the dursateel parapet as Hunter took out one of the guards. The other looked over the wall at Echo.

“A little help?”

Hunter got his attention as you looked at the small map of the Capitol you had downloaded through your holopad connected to your armor on your wrist. The others looked over to you before you nodded and gestured to the direction you should be going. The three of you arrived to the detention level and took out the guards then you found the cells before freeing those enclosed in them.

“What are you doing here?” Gobi Glie asked as he looked at all of you.

“Breaking you out.” Hunter explained.

“You know them?” Another male twi’lek asked who must have been Hera’s father.

“They are mercenaries, but I did not hire them for this.”

“Hera did.” Hunter stated.

“Hera? Where is she? Is she safe?” Her father asked.

Echo chuckled, “With Omega and Chopper? Let’s hope so.”

You were looking through your map again, “We should go soon, troops will be heading to the refinery by now.”

Hunter nodded before following you away from the detention level to find a safe exit. Everyone rushed down the halls but you stopped.

“What is it, Lodestar?”

“This… this is too easy.” You whispered.

“We have to go.” Cham insisted.

“No, no, I’m going to double back… see if the courtyard is clear.”

“That’s not the plan.” Hunter said sternly.

“Crosshair knows we’re here. He knows how we think. He isn’t a fool.” You argued, “I’d rather have one of us caught or killed than these innocent people we’re helping. I’m going to check the courtyard.”

You rushed away from the group before taking a detour for the upper wall again. There were troopers scouting out the exit, so you pulled out your blaster and stunned them before making your way around to get a better look. There was an overhead view on the farside of the courtyard where you could use your rifle just in case things went south. As you rushed over, you could see troopers lining up with shields and blasters, ready to attack the front gates.

“Hunter, do you copy?”

“I copy. We were just warned, we’re heading for Senator Taa’s private quarters. There’s a ship waiting there. Rendezvous back with the group.”

You stopped, eyeing a figure at the overview, “Go on without me. I’ll meet you back at the base.”

“Lode-”

You silenced your comm before pulling out the dagger you had sheathed in an underarm leather pocket. You approached carefully, trying not to make any noise. As you were getting past them, a shot near misses you. They approached out of the shadows and your heart froze. The person waiting there was Crosshair himself.

“So… Hunter has found another replacement.” He sneered through the modulator of his helmet. Your heart was pounding in your ears as he stopped just a few feet away.

“Silent too… How original.”

You gripped your dagger before sheathing it and standing there looking at him through the dark visor of your helmet.

“However, fairly stupid. Nothing like me.”

Says the one doing the Empire’s dirty work.

You took a step back as he raised his rifle again.

“At least give me a challenge.” He groaned, “You have no idea how good I am with a moving target.”

But you do…

You clenched your fist before rushing towards him and knocking the rifle out of his hands. He grunted before grasping your shoulders and tossing you into the wall. He approached you, looming over your body before pulling you by a piece of your armor and leaning you over the ledge, looking over you.

“You’re holding back… some soldier you are.” He commented quietly before taking your blaster from your belt and raising it up to the side of your helmet. Your breathing was fast and your whole body was shaking, but you still managed to raise your arm and take off your helmet quickly. Everything grew silent as he looked at you through the tinted green visor of his Imperial helmet. He dropped the arm holding your blaster and loosened his grip.

“How…”

You shoved him away forcefully before kicking the blaster out of his hands and picking it up, then shooting his rifle so it couldn’t fire. You then rushed away as he was down, making your way back to the base.

*******

It was nearly sun up when you arrived back to the valley where the base was. Omega was waiting with the Batch and Hera when she saw you. She ran up to you and hugged your midriff tight.

“I was scared you got captured by the Empire.” She admitted.

“I’m alright. Just had to make sure everyone was safe…” You replied before looking up at the others.

“We’re heading south to another city, away from Imperial scanners.” Tech explained as you approached the Marauder with her. You nodded, avoiding Hunter’s eyes and following Omega as she and Hera pulled you onto the ship.

You all arrived at the hangar of the small city before Hunter talked with Hera’s parents and the Batch was gathered around with Hera, occupying themselves. You stood to the side, still thinking about Crosshair.

“Lodestar.” Cham called and you looked up before approaching, “It has been an honor finally meeting you and working alongside you. We are all familiar with the work you have done.”

You nodded politely before Hera was called, so you walked away towards the Marauder. It was only a few minutes before the others joined you. You all filed onto the ship, but before Tech and Echo could go to the cockpit, Hunter stopped them and they all turned to you.

“What were you thinking?” Hunter pressed, crossing his arms over his chest, “You almost sabotaged the whole mission.”

You didn’t say anything, looking at him while he talked.

“You risked being caught by the Empire, Lodestar, don’t you understand that?”

You gave him a curt nod, seeing Omega’s worried eyes in your peripherals.

“Next mission, you’re staying on the ship--maybe even stay behind on Ord Mantell.” He ordered, before walking back to the cockpit. His brothers protested while following after him, but Omega stayed with you in the main Hangar.

“Lodestar? Are you alright?”

You looked at her with a nod before she went to sit as the ship started to take off.

XXXXXXX

Taglist: @darkangel4121

@lightning-wolffe

@alucas528

@rintheemolion

@shadowfoxey

@butch-medusae

@gabile18

@incandescentlywarm

@echo-is-worth-more-than-2000

@spidercrush3

[jessiebanethedragon]

Hello! I would like to request 6. A kiss that drowns out the loud surroundings and 16. A french kiss that feels like a tango from the kiss list for Hunter please. I have a mighty need.

Sorry this has taken so long! i hope you enjoy the story! (sorry its kinda short.) feat. me being thirsty for Sergeant Hunter. (sorry for that as well)

Takes place Before order 66 

Hunter hates civilian clothing. He hates the way it feels, the way it looks, hell he even hates the way it smells. Being someone with enhanced senses sure came with a lot of downfalls. At least GAR blacks were always the same material and matched, and his armor made him feel safe. And whatever long sleeve shirt and jacket combo he was wearing whilst undercover was driving him mad. 

At least he’d been able to keep the bandana. 

“Try looking less angry.” Echos voice crackled in his ear piece from his spot on the Havoc, where he’s hacked into who-knows-which camera. Reminding him of the mission, all he had to do was plant a piece of spyware on the separatist tactical and all it a day. And it wasn't as if he didn’t have help. You were with him after all. 

And you make your presence known with a poke to his cheek. Smiling as he cringes away. 

“I think he’s broken.’ You say to Echo from beside the disgruntled sergeant. Earning you a side eye glare. 

“Let's just get this over with.” He grumbles. 

“He speaks!” you coo over him into the earpiece. And he all but growls your name in warning. Before wincing as someone drops a crate of supplies to the floor from behind the bar corner you’re standing at. Concern floods your features. 

“Hunter…” 

“I’m fine.” he cuts you off, brushing aside his discomfort. Watching you as you pull you’re ‘i'm not buying this bullshit’ face that you’ve honed through your adventures with Clone Force 99. “I’ll be okay.” He reassures. 

He wasn't okay. 

By the time you make it out of the cantina his ears are ringing from the blaster fight, and not having the protection and filtering his helmet usually provides. His skin feels on fire from the shirt rubbing over it, and he’s nursing one hell of a headache. 

You’re in better shape but not by much. You know you’ll have bruises by the morning and your muscles are already screaming. And the bloody nose isn't doing you any favours, nor is the gross cloth you keep pressing to it. 

“When I asked for a distraction I didn't mean a full fledged bar fight.” Hunter had said when the two of you had escaped from the ruckus. And now walking behind him, seeing his hunched shoulders and tense back, you feel bad. 

“Hunter….” You start, but you’re cut off by the sound of sirens coming down the street, and before you can react he’s pulling you into and alcove. 

You can see the pain on his face at the noise. So you drop the piece of cloth for your nose and place your hands over his ears. He goes to move them off with his own, but it’s like he's been drained of energy. He needs a distraction, you can tell, but pushed into the small alcove and hiding from separatist forces you’re not sure what you can do to help. 

Smoothing one hand down his face and the other moving into his hair, you pull him in for a kiss. 

The details of your relationship with your sergeant are fuzzy. This is by far not the first kiss you’ve shared, you know each other intimately, thoroughly, you know his darkest secrets, and he knows yours. And yet, you could never be whatever you have going on with Hunter, the GAR regulations told you that much. 

But the way he groans into your mouth has your mind on other matters for now. Both hands entangled into his hair to pull him closer, more flush to your body. While his arms wrap around your back one hand in your hair and the other traveling down to your waist. Tightening almost to the point of pain when you lick into his mouth. 

You are always surprised at how good of a kisser Hunter really is. And if there's one thing he loves doing, it’s kissing you. He loves the feel of your lips, the way you gasp and breathe against him, how soft you are under his hands, and how kissing you is something that is only reserved for him. Everyone else can look at you and talk to you. His brothers can receive hugs or touches of friendly affection. But only Hunter can kiss you. 

It makes him feral. 

It makes him tongue, teeth, desperate grasps, and panting breaths. 

It makes him love you. 

And by the time he's had his fill of french kissing you in a dirty alcove, you’re positive you're late for the rendezvous. But that doesn't stop you from pecking his lips again a few minutes later when you’re both finally clear of the noise pollution of the market - and getting him going all over again.