#Glad you enjoyed my fic :)

[lovegasmic]

Can't get enough of your writings from last place and also a HUGE Genshin/HonkaiStarRail stan. Quick request, if you don't mind and have time, Could you do a Dan Heng (Either form) or Zhongli with FemReader who is super shy about their body. SFW or NSFW would be great. Again, love your work. Hope to see more through the year :D

— dan heng, zhongli + fem!reader.

mdni. ( nonie pls read the tags ily ) both fluff and smut. dragon boys who don’t get human emotions that well yet wish nothing more than your happiness... cunilingus 😋.

dan heng doesn’t understand why you’re so shy about your body, he only wishes you could see yourself through his eyes. see the perfection in your whole being and why his hands seem unable to be away from you for too long; he’s aware of your lack of self-confidence, and absolutely hates himself for not making you feel loved enough.

there is not a moment when dan heng’s hands aren’t touching you somehow, like a soft, tender rub on your back, a fleeting brush of his hands on your waist as you walk past him, and of course, multiple kisses placed on the patches of skin where your shirt doesn’t cover. utterly obsessed with you is what dan heng is.

intimately is the same, your lover takes his time in kissing you silly until you’re hazy and unable to tell him no when his hands take off your clothes, although, if you wished to remain clothed somehow, he would never deny that to you.

dan heng’s favorite part is letting his lips trace the whole expanse of your body, his pants tightening around his growing erection, painfully hard but wishing to satisfy you first, make you feel more comfortable while muttering sweet nothings against your skin where his lips lay and you shake in return, there’s bites on your thighs, licks and kisses, marks for you to see the following day and perhaps, loving your body a little bit more with the print of his love in your skin.

on the other hand, Zhongli’s love language is through words more than actions, always finding himself cupping your cheeks and muttering how insanely gorgeous you are, how every single detail of your beautiful body drives him utterly insane, leaving you all flustered under his intense amber gaze.

there isn’t a day that passes where Zhongli isn’t eager to explore your body with his mouth and hands, slowly and steadily undoing your clothes under your lust filled eyes. “don’t do that, let me see you” he rasps when you cover yourself, slightly demanding and rough but not enough to scare you, staring at you from between your thighs with a piercing gaze that makes you whimper, letting your hands tangle on his hair while Zhongli’s tongue lick up your pretty pussy. although his favorite days are when you have those outbursts of confidence, still shyly taking off your clothes under his intense staring, it makes his cock pulse watching you so prettily crawl over his body, a smirk always plastered on his face that's half lust, and half adoration.

[deedala]

art for shameless big bang fic:

Last Night at the Verona Grand Hotel by @the-rat-wins

special thanks to @whaticameherefor for taking over the organizing!

[benevolenterrancy]

Swords pining for each other's cultivator is my new favorite type of pining. Love your NieYao content! <3

I don't suppose we could get Baxia or Hensheng throwing a tantrum while Jin Guangyao / Nie Mingjue are away, leaving their owners to deal with the embarrassing aftermath?

Also, do you have any recs you'd recommend with these two?

this is the exact moment Nie Huaisang realised he was going to have to start meddling in his big brother's love life (con't: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5)

Hensheng, on the other hand, doesn't throw tantrums but WILL sulk...

[uhbasicallyjustmilex]

🌸 !!CHAPTER ELEVEN POSTED!! 🌸

Title: Four Walls

Tags: slow burn, domesticity, friends to lovers, smut, pining post sias/pre am era

Summary: Disillusioned with LA and on the heels of a breakup, Alex goes to stay with Miles in London.

[turtletaubwrites]

Your Katakuri fic was so sweet!(no pun intended) I think a honeymoon continuation would be great but even without it’s the cutest thing ever just to think about!

Thank you so much! I'm falling for this big softie now 😭🍩💜

It was going to be a one shot, but they are just so stinkin' cute that I'm thinking about writing their honeymoon. It's just...

He's just...

He's 16 and a half ft (509 cm) tall!?!!

I prefer to stick close to canon, but this would definitely be in the monster fucking category, and my brain has been trying to work out the logistics, lol

If I can't figure it out, I'll probably write another fluffy SFW part and fade to black I guess...

Let me know in the poll below if you'd like me to attempt some Katakuri smut, lol. (My first poll ever is about whether or not to bang a giant, I love it here 😂)

I love him, and I want him, but look at him compared to the average women's height (which is my exact height, lol)

😳😳😳

I could make out with his knees 🤦🏼‍♀️

Side note, the internet is so fucking funny. I was trying to look up what an average range of penis size would be if the person was 16.5 ft tall, but all I could find was a slew of men yelling that height has nothing to do with it.

Yes, I know, my guys. I just need to know if Katakuri can consummate without killing his sweet little doughnut girl 😅

Lol, I had to look it up again before posting this. Apparently the average U.S. length is 7.68% of height sooo. How we feeling about 14.5 inches (39 cm)??? let me know 😳

[irishvampireboy]

Okay but like, everything you put in your tags on that why Steve goes to hair salon posts plus also Eddy has a soft tummy 😊

Now you listen here!!!! I had to wait til i got home from work so i could answer this PROPERLY. Cannot BELIEVE you would do this to me all nonchalant like that!

I see your "soft tummy eddie" and raise you "soft tummy and THIGHS eddie" lets fucking GOOOOOOOOOOO!!!

SO!!! Eddie literally gets them so so high. He's probably got a bit of a dependency on going after all the shit that goes down. But the weed helps with his aches and pains AND gives him an appetite so he can actually eat without being repulsed by the food.

So he's been smoking. And eating. And he's soft now. He squishy and soft and warm. And he'd been lounging in moatly sweats for the most part but the seam across his ass had finally given out one day when he was bending to grab the milk in the fridge. So he'd taken a chunk of their government money and went and got a small assortment of clothes like ... two sizes up. So they'll last awhile.

Anyway he drags Steve into his weekly and then nightly smoke sessions. And the smoke relaxes steve too. But one day he nods off and just, slow falls onto Eddie's thigh. His head hitting Eddie's leg wakes him but he just murmurs sleepily and kinda wiggles down to get comfy-er. And that's when eddie starts touching his hair and steve just hums.

He maybe rolls over too, so he's facing eddie. And Eddie's stomach is right there. He could move forward a bit and just... shove his face there. Knows Eddie's soft belly would give with the pressure and just, hold him there. Soft and warm. But he doesnt. Not that first time. He just listens to Eddie's breathing, his whispered, "so soft. Wow." As his fingers move through Steve's hair, and he smiles, and falls asleep.

And then like a week later, Steve is so tired, not even that high, had a bad week, with bad dreams, but he's here now. With Eddie. On, Eddie. Head resting on his thigh, face turnwd toward his stomach, one arm shoved up behind Eddie's back. He's not holding onto Eddie. Yet. Just, has his arm shoved back there, likes the pressure.

But then Eddie's touching his hair. Fingers moving soft. And slow. With INTENT. And he hears Eddie's little, "hmm soft." Can hear the smile on his face without seeing it. And Steve can't take it anymore. He moves the arm shoved behind Eddie, moves his hand up and grabs onto Eddie's love handle and just, pulls himself closer, his head smooshing into Eddie's soft belly.

"You too Eds." He mumbles, the sound muffled by Eddie's shirt, and the soft skin beneath it.

He feels Eddie's freeze. Feels him tense up. And that just won't do. This is their relaxing time. Eddie's too. So Steve's pulls back, just a bit, just enough to look up at Eddie with one eye and a smile and say,

"You're soft too. I like it." Eddie stares him for a long time, so Steve just keeps smiling his soft smile until Eddie's lips twitch a little, a hesitant smile curling his own lips. He looks unsure. So Steve hooks his other arm up under Eddie's knee, so his hand can rest on Eddie's other thigh. And he squeezes. Eddie shivers, lets out a breathy little laugh.

"Is that okay?" Steve asks, rubbing the side of his face on Eddie's thigh, he's vaguely aware that he may be giving too much Cat Energy, but with Eddie beneath him so soft and warm, he can't find the strength to care.

"Um. Ye-" Eddie's voice cracks. He clears his throat. Opens his mouth, closes it.

"Mhm." He hums, nodding a few times, quick, his cheeks are so so pink now. Steve just smiles, closes his eyes again and nuzzled forward, into Eddie's belly, curling his arm tighter, pulling Eddie closer. He hears a startled squeak above him and smiles even wider.

"Keep playing with my hair." Steve says into Eddie's stomach, pulls back, looks up at Eddie to finding him starring down at him, eyes wide and full of what Steve thinks might be wonder.

"Huh?" Eddie huffs, when he realizes Steve is looking at him and waiting for something.

"My hair. Please?" Steve asks, suddenly feeling shy, his own face going hot, he knows he's red like Eddie now. But his words startle Eddie into action.

"Oh! Right. Yeah. Of course, yeah, duh." He's nodding again. Hand raised next to Steve's head, waiting for him to get comfy again, Eddie's fingers flexing before Steve settles back in, face shoved into Eddie's softness, Eddie sinks his fingers into Steve's hair gently, like always.

Steve hums happily, hears Eddie hum in return. He feels warm all over, so safe, and warm, and Eddie is so soft beneath him. Beneath his head. Beneath his hand. Beneath him and in front of him and wrapped in his arm. He's soft all over and Steve just wants to climb on top of him and stay there forever. But not today. Maybe next week. Or tomorrow.

And they do talk about it. Eventually. Eddie asks about it. Eventually. And Steve kisses him. Eventually.

Because Eddie looks so skeptical, like the thought of Steve liking him when he's all soft now, he's pudgy, he's had to buy new clothes.

He looks at Steve like that's not possible. So Steve kisses him. Steve touches him. Everywhere it makes Eddie squirm. Steve kisses there too. To make sure Eddie knows he loves it. Loves him. Loves him soft and sweet and so so gentle with Steve.

He's everything Steve's ever wanted. Someone soft, and safe, and sweet, who would be soft, and safe, and sweet, to him.

.

.

.

LOOK WHAT YOU MADE ME DO!!!! DO YOU SEE?!?!?! DO YOUBSEE WHAT YOUVE MADE ME DOOOO! 🤣🤣🤣🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡

[grubbin22]

I love scenic our house so much and this new chapter AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

it’s a bit of a niche fic, so i’m happy to hear you’re enjoying it!

[vinelark]

Hi I feel like you always have the best batfam fic recs, so I was wondering if you have any recs for any Dick and Tim bonding fics (especially fics that deal with the fallout of Dick giving Robin to Dami)?

hi! so glad you like the recs, i'm always happy to give them 🥰  every time a friend expresses even a passing interest in one of my fav characters i have to stop myself from like, creating a fic rec spreadsheet on the spot.

that said, i got stumped by the second part of this one. i was like oh yes definitely, i totally have read fics for that, and then…could not dig any up from my brain or my bookmarks. i feel like there's a fic on the tip of my tongue, but in the meanwhile, if anyone has any tim & dick red robin reconciliation recs (holy tongue twister, batman) i too would love to see them!

and here are some tim & dick recs in general:

🎄 only you will have stars that can laugh by silverwhittlingknife

set early in tim’s tenure as robin; dick realizes tim is about to be alone on christmas, and they end up spending the holiday together. i love how tentative both dick and tim are about this for different (and at times similar) reasons, and how heartwarming and cozy it ends up being. lots of reflection on family in all its forms and a really good tim & dick dynamic.

🚗 I’d Fly Far Away From Here by Sohotthateveryonedied

in a somewhat similar vein, a oneshot set during tim’s robin era in which tim hitchhikes to blüdhaven after a fight with his dad. dick and tim are two people who technically aren’t brothers yet by law but already are at heart, which doesn’t make it any easier to navigate conversations about tim’s home life or either of their relationship with bruce. (they make it work, though.)

🩹 Not So Large But Definitely In Charge by dottie_dc

tim and dick get tossed into an alternate gotham where there’s no batman or justice league, but find their way to bruce and alfred anyway. this has great tim-under-pressure pov, and the amount that he and dick care about each other even through their arguments is palpable. there’s also a fantastic (and at times gut-wrenching) sequel by JackHawksmoor focusing more on dick & the bruce of this different world. (cw for: past major character death aka alternate universe dick grayson)

🤖 Very Pleasing to My Optical Sensors by waffleelrond

another early robin!tim fic, in which tim gets injured and dick steps in to translate bruce's bruceness about it. it's tentative and sweet and a little silly, and a great bite-sized fic to read when you want to see the two of them just starting out as brothers.

🌌 To an Athlete Dying Young series by SonoSvegliato

at a glance from the summaries this appears like a tim & jason + tim & bruce series (and it is!), but the tim & dick scenes land it on this list for sure. i'm a broken record here with the early-robin!tim & dick recs but man i love them here; in the second fic there's a sequence where dick is teaching tim how to grapple across rooftops that sticks in my mind as one of my top favorite bonding moments for them. (heads up that the series currently ends on a cliffhanger—it's not finished yet!)

🦉 the once and future robin by AstraEllis

and as proof that i can in fact rec something other than early-robin!tim, here's an au where instead of becoming batman's robin tim ends up adopting a talon!dick grayson from another universe as his older brother. and becoming his robin. and then finding his way to the batfamily. i'm fascinated by the tim and alternate-universe-talon!dick relationship in this, and the questions of identity/personhood that it tackles by virtue of the story it is telling. plus, talon!dick's connection to robin as a concept despite the alternate universe aspect is really sweet.

also circling back to red robin reconciliation, i do have these two longfics open in my many tabs to read/finish; both tackle the post-rr era and the dick & tim of it all in their larger plots, so i'll toss in Extant by Kgraces and The Return by lurkinglurkerwholurks to check out too!

[tonberry-yoda]

Comfort - Portgas D. Ace

notes - AHHH IM HERE!! Sorry this took so long, I was really busy this week going to concerts, going to work, stuff at home, and setting up my new room, so chaos has been more than normal for me this week lol. But I am so glad I got to write such a relaxing Ace fic, this was really nice for me to just spill out of my soul! This was also for that poll I did earlier this week! I hope my Ace lovers enjoy this one and have a lovely evening! I love you all, stay super hydrated!

word count - 966

"What are you doing?" Ace laughed, watching you dig in the sand like a dog for the fifteenth time.

"I'm telling you, Ace," you tried to explain. "There's gotta be treasure in this sand. The map says so!" You pointed to a map that was sitting next to you; old and covered in sand.

"Isn't that thing like a billion years old?" He picked up the map and turned it over in his hands a bunch, still not understanding how to read it.

"Maybe it is, but who knows, that treasure could still be here!"

Ace just playfully rolled his eyes and grabbed your arm, pulling you out of the sand. "Come on, babe. Let's just get a hotel for the night and wash up. You got sand in your fingernails."

"Yeah, but it's rich Alabasta sand, so it's fine." you joked, following Ace and taking back your map.

"Still gross though." he teased, running his hand to your lower back and pressing a kiss to your cheek.

The two of you walked for a while to the nearest town, not even realizing how late it had been. When you walked into town, it was pitch black and freezing cold.

Ace shivered and held open the hotel door for you. "Man, it's cold."

"Maybe cuz you always have your nips out, Ace." you said, pressing a kiss to his cheek and thanking him for holding the door.

"You leave my nips alone!" he defended, dramatically pressing his hand to his chest.

You turned to him, shocked that would say such a stupid thing in a lobby with people in it, but just rolled your eyes.

He smirked at you and grabbed your hand, getting the two of you a nice room.

Once there, it was like heaven. You slipped off your shoes and threw yourself onto the bed with pure joy painted onto your face.

"Scoot over, y/n," Ace said, clapping his hands together. "Or I'm gonna land on you."

He didn't even give you time to move and instead landed straight on top of you, making you lose your breath for a second before busting into laughter.

"Ace, what the hell?" you said between deep breaths and a little bit of laughter.

"Oh, damn, you were just so cozy looking, I thought you were the bed." He winked at you and hugged around your waist, burying his face in your chest.

"Wait!" You jumped off of the bed, making Ace pout. "Before you go burying your face anywhere, I'm taking a shower. I smell like," you took a whiff of yourself and dramatically fake gagged. "Yeah, I smell like I should probably take a shower."

"Let's save water then," Ace smiled, taking off his hat and already slipping off his shorts to just a pair of boxers. "Lemme take one with you."

You couldn't say no to someone who you loved with all your heart and so happened to be pressing kisses down your neck.

"Fine," you said, pushing his face away. "But you're washing your own hair."

"What?!" Ace exclaimed, pouting. "But I haven't had head scratchies in ages! Not fair."

You turned on the shower, stripped down, and waited for the water to heat up as Ace sat behind you, whistling and reminding you how pretty you were. You blushed, of course, and turned to Ace, smacking him on the bare arm.

"Owie! What was that for? I was calling you pretty!"

"For making me blush." you said, turning away, your face as bright as a tomato at this point.

Ace grabbed your hand and pulled you into the shower, sighing at the warm water. He rubbed your shoulders while you washed your hair and would occasionally whisper sweet nothings into your ear as you washed your body, washing his own self in the process.

You two hadn't had self care like this in forever and it felt nice to just enjoy yourselves for a while. Being on his little boat was stuffy and the last time you had stayed in a hotel as nice as this was when you first joined his crew, which feels like ages at this point.

You looked at yourself in the mirror as you wrapped your towel around you and saw Ace behind you with stupid goo goo eyes. You turned towards him and gave him a peck on the lips before turning back and drying yourself off.

"I'm gonna ask for about six more of those kisses, cutie, so you best be prepared for that." he whispered in your ear before placing a kiss onto it and drying his own self off.

You took one of Ace's shirts that he took and didn't even bother to put on any pants over your underwear as you walked over to the bed, yawning. When you slammed yourself onto the soft mattress, Ace laid right next to you and smiled.

"Can I get another one of those kisses?" he asked nicely.

You obliged and gave him another quick peck.

He pouted and then asked, "Yeah, but longer. Can I give you a kiss this time?"

You thought about it and then smiled with a little nod.

Ace apparently took that as his opportunity to be his hottest self and tilted your chin up and bringing your face as close as possible before pressing a long kiss to your lips that made you hungry for more.

When he pulled away, he smiled at you and you hugged around the back of his neck. Ace rubbed little circles into your back and buried his face in the crook of your neck.

"I love you," he whispered.

"I love you too, Ace."

It was nice to get a bit of comfort in a world where you two were always being chased.

~~~~~

one piece masterlist | pinned post

2023 @tonberry-yoda – do not repost or claim ANY of my work as your own! likes, reblogs, and comments are not only welcome, but appreciated

~~~~~

[khaotunq]

"i don't know this fandom but i read this because i like your writing"

i am ON tHE FloOR.

[pianokantzart]

I am now obsessed with the idea of Mr L, thank you so much for your comic bringing his existence to my attention ❤️ Is there any other media for the character you would recommend? (Art, comics, fics, etc)

@cherryfennec is definitely the first one that comes to mind. Their art is S-tier in general, and their Super Paper Mario & Mr. L stuff is no exception.

@jell-o101 also has a couple of comics that focus on Mr. L (Be warned, Jello is renowned for her angst. Guard your heart well, she will do her best to rip it out.)

A user named lethalhedgehogs was the one who first opened my eyes to Mr. L's character possibilities. Unfortunately, they're no longer active :( but if you type "lethalhedgehogs tumblr" into the google image search engine you'll get plenty of links to reblogs of their stuff.

And with that uuuuuuuhhhh I'll hand the baton off to @legobiwan because as far as my dashboard goes, they seem like the most equipped to guide you down the SPM/Mr. L rabbit hole.

[prince-liest]

I think it's slowly hitting Vox just how much Alastor doesn't care for the sex part of the, well, sex. I love seeing Vox being confronted with yet another instance of Alastor straying away from usual allosexual experiences. He is not even realizing anything, it just slots into 'Alastor being Alastor'. I love this obssesive idiot.

It is, admittedly, also slowly hitting Alastor! In some ways, Vox is actually paying more attention - he's just shifting his perspective from "I love sex, sex is great, especially the sex that we definitely had that Alastor seemed to be into at the time" while Alastor is commuting in from "this isn't relevant or interesting for me to think about, so I won't" city for his weekend hobby of indulging his own sadomasochism, where he's admittedly still had to see all the allonormative billboards metaphorically plastered all along the freeway.

For Alastor, it's a matter of slowly exploring something he's never been interested in before - which is why he was open to a lot more earlier on before he decided those things weren't for him. For Vox, it's a matter of really, really wanting to and enjoying being that person for Alastor, and so being, just, so ready to enable the process in a way that involves himself. This is, in some ways, a greater motivation for Vox than self-discovery is for Alastor, hahaha.

I was going to write a little more about the particular details of Alastor's reactions and preferences, but actually, I think it's going to come up in the next sequel, so I shall hold off until then!

[allastoredeer]

I just read your entire Just Kiss Already series up to the latest one with the huge fight between the two and ARGH you write them both so well!! Especially Lucifer, his anxiety and stumbling-through-his-words dialogue that makes him oh so relatable to me are perfect. And as an English Language and Literature graduate who's not a native English speaker, your writing has some GREAT vocabulary and phrases I absolutely love.

As someone aroaceage myself (on all 3 spectrums not 100% completely aromantic, asexual, or agender, just FYI since people forget it's a spectrum and then attack me way too often and now I'm wary) it's so refreshing to see another aroace person writing Alastor with his "I hate personal space invasion" attitude that I share. I strictly hate giving up my privacy and your explanation for how Al feels makes so much sense (and also makes me feel like I won't be friendless my whole life, so thanks :') if Alastor can end up with someone despite hating intimacy and if Lucifer can despite being awkward and desperate then damn. Maybe so can I). Oh, and Vox being the pathetic desperate wet tissue he is is soo entertaining. I don't babygirl-ise characters often but he's just so. Fun to watch embarass himself. I can't help it.

I came to your blog just to say this but got a lot of RadioApple discourse that I'm honestly a bit intimidated by since I wasn't aware of all this happening at all, I just follow a very select few creators and now I don't know whether I'm doing something wrong. Personally I don't care much about top/bottom dynamics (except in certain situations) so I'm just confused and worried lol. And what's with the outfits and likes??? I'm out of the entire loop. But I'm glad conversations are happening when they should!

Anyway, I canNOT wait for more from your series, wherever it goes. I'd draw fanart or write fics in your AU with your permission but I'm currently having every creative block known to humanity for several years. Somehow.

I usually comment on AO3 itself but you connected your Tumblr after every chapter so it felt right to come here, even tho I'm not too active on social media sites. I hope you don't mind my mostly-unrelated rambles. All the kudos to your fics!

First and foremost: You aren't doing anything wrong.

It's fine if you're out of the loop. There's really no loop to begin with. It's just some fandom tropes and characterizations a handful of us don't enjoy seeing and we're ranting about it LOL If you like any of those tropes or characterizations, or follow people who make art/fics with them, there's nothing wrong with that either. There's no need to be worried, you're doing just fine 😊

Secondly, THANK YOU!!!

I don't think anyone is 100% ace, aro, or agender, it's a spectrum, afterall. There's no meter you have to reach to be considered 100% a sexuality, you just are :) If you say you're ace, aro, or agender, that's what you are, and anyone who wants to argue about it can go kick rocks.

I base a lot of how I write Alastor's aceness on myself, so hearing people say they feel the same is just (;´༎ຶД༎ຶ`) It's so amazing to hear. I'm a very private person and I like my personal space; I'm not a very physically touchy person, and thankfully, I have an amazing friend (who's love language is physical touch and affection) who knows and understands this and doesn't touch or hug me without permission - I love her so much T.T

Vox is such a pathetic wet tissue and that's what I love about him

(づ￣ ³￣)づ I wanna give him a little kiss on his big, flat forehead.

I'm so happy you're enjoying my fics and relating to them so much. I don't think there's a higher compliment an author can get than their readers saying that they saw themselves in the story and characters. It's such an amazing feeling, it makes me all warm and tingly inside.

Once your creative block lets up - whenever that may be - you have my full permission to draw and write as much as you want in my AU.

Thanks for visiting my tumblr!! Sorry you felt intimidated by the discourse, that's not fun. Just know that you're not doing anything wrong, and whatever fandom content you engage with is perfectly fine and you shouldn't feel bad about enjoying it ^.^ Fandom is escapism and we're all here to have a good time.

Thank you for your rambles!! I enjoyed reading them!!

[flurry-of-stars]

I WAS ABOUT TO MAKE A POST ABOUT THE FOURTH CHAPTER OF THESE HOLLOW HALLS WHEN I SEE

WHATTTTTT

THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH!!! ♡♡♡ It’s absolutely wild to me that there’s that many people following this blog. I’m so grateful to everyone, from those who have decided to follow this blog, to people who’ve even just left a passing like or comment. It means so much to me. Thank you for spending time with me in this little corner of the internet (//▽//) But because I wasn’t expecting to meet this milestone so soon, I haven’t exactly been prepared for it but I am planning something behind the scenes between writing all these chapters and new fic ideas. Just give me time to organize it. I’ll have two celebration posts coming out so look out for them  ┬┴┬┴┤ω・) AND!!!! THE REASON I WAS GONNA TYPE THIS TO BEGIN WITH CHAPTER 4 FOR THESE HOLLOW HALLS WILL BE OUT THIS WEEK! SORRY FOR THE DELAY!! (〃▽〃) ♡ I'm very excited to focus on Chapter 5 entirely now for absolutely no reason at all ┬┴┬┴┤(･_ ├┬┴┬┴ Wishing you all a very wonderful week ahead! (✿´꒳`)ﾉ♡

[blackjackkent]

hihi!! i just wanted to stop in and say your writing is beautiful and the last tav x karlach request you did genuinely had me tearing up and smiling so much, i absolutely adored it ^_^ and i also wanted to possibly request one with a fem tav and karlach who both found a home within each other after not feeling like they had a place to belong for so long. if that's a little too vauge or if you're not up for it then no worries!! i'm excited to see what else you'll write in the future regardless :3

Ahhhhh, this is such a kind message, ty. <3 I'm so glad you enjoyed it. c: I hope you like this, anon!

-----

"You sleep like a fucking rock, y'know." Karlach pokes her head in the flap of the tent and grins as Tav curls away from the shaft of sunlight that stabs in past her. "I've been up for hours."

"Yes, 'cos you're you," Tav mumbles. She rolls over and pulls the pillow from her bedroll over her face. "Some of us actually need rest."

"Missed a beautiful sunrise over the city," Karlach says lightly. "And uh. I made breakfast." She says it with such elaborate, studied casualness that Tav shifts the pillow and peeks one eye out at her. Karlach is sitting in the tent flap watching her intently, her fingers fidgeting on her thighs.

"Yeah?" Tav asks with a slight smile. "What'd you make?"

"Eggs." Karlach shifts awkwardly and her head dips with a sheepish grin. "I mean, I know Gale makes eggs a lot, and you've probably eaten even more than I have, all your hunting trips and all before all this mess started, ranging around. But... I know how to make eggs, and I wanted to make you something."

She hesitates, squinting. "I mean, I wanted you to have eggs that I made. Y'know? Does that... make any fucking sense at all?"

Tav's smile widens. She sits up and scoots a little bit forward, then flops over so her head is pillowed on Karlach's lap instead. "Yeah."

"Yeah?" Karlach looks visibly relieved and grins down at her with a smile from ear to ear.

"Yeah, and I'll tell you a secret." Tav reaches up and pokes Karlach's cheek gently with one finger. "I want to eat the eggs that you made, too." A pause; she laughs softly. "Y'know, I gave up on thinking I'd say that to anyone, years ago."

"Me too." Karlach's smile fades. "I gave up on a lot of things. Fucked up that that nautiloid feels like it might've been the best thing that ever happened to me."

Tav hoists herself up again, this time curling into a sitting position in Karlach's lap and kissing her softly. "Yeah. I know what you mean. I don't miss that lonely road, that's for sure."

She tilts her head slowly to one side, and then grins crookedly, draping her arms around Karlach's neck. "I do have to tell you something, though..."

Karlach tilts her head to one side. "Yeah?"

Tav snickers. "Those eggs you mentioned? I think they're burning."

"Oh, fuck--" Karlach jolts to her feet and darts away from the tent towards the campfire, leaving Tav sprawled on the ground and laughing hysterically.

"Next time," she calls after Karlach cheerfully, "romantic speech first - then cooking."

[fanfoolishness]

a rain that sounds like home (8/8)

After the destruction of Tantiss, the Bad Batch is safe at last. As Crosshair begins to recover from his injuries, it becomes apparent that not all of his scars are physical, and that guilt and grief are wounds that cut deeper than any blade. His family is determined to be there for him -- if only he can let them in.

Canon-compliant, focusing on PTSD, amputation recovery, and sibling grief, with plenty of whump, hurt/comfort, and emotional catharsis. Set shortly after the return from Tantiss and my fic Breaching the Wall.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7

Chapter 8: The Rain Comes

Crosshair talks to his siblings. All of them. 6100 words, Crosshair and Omega POV. (Author's note: IT'S OVER! And I am full of feels.)

---

He opened his eyes.

Crosshair stared up at the ceiling of the bedroom, trying to judge the time of day. Soft light filtered in through the window, much gentler and more diffuse than the usual blinding morning sunlight. Then he heard the rain, soft and susurrous on the roof and patio. 

He’d slept through the night without a nightmare.

He reached up, rubbing his face with his left hand, and rolled over to glance at the bedside table. His prosthetic hand was there in its box, waiting for him to try it again.

Yesterday had been overwhelming, disorienting, dizzying in how his emotions had finally gotten the better of him and exploded in a mess for all to see. But Hunter, Wrecker, Echo, Omega, they’d been up to the challenge. They hadn’t turned away from him; they hadn’t left him behind, despite every weakness he’d revealed. Instead they’d rallied around him. It was still hard to believe.

He swung his legs out over the edge of the bed, getting to his feet. He wondered where the others were. Hunter’s bed was neatly made, Wrecker’s a pile of rumpled bedding. They had a cot for Echo’s visit, also neatly made. He twitched the covers back into place on his own bed one-handed. He left the prosthetic where it lay, and shuffled to the refresher after changing into fresh clothes.

Cautiously Crosshair made his way out to the living room. Echo was sitting on the couch, drinking a cup of caf and gazing out the window at the gray drizzle.

”There you are,” Echo said. “We figured you needed the rest.”

Crosshair shrugged uncomfortably, shame welling up within him. As much as he’d been grateful for the support yesterday, it was still difficult to have needed it. “I suppose so.” 

“There’s more caf in the kitchen if you want some.”

”Maybe in a bit.” He took a seat on the couch beside Echo, staring out at the rain. The ocean seemed far away through the sheets of gray curtaining down, billowing sometimes on the breeze. “Where are the others?”

”Omega’s out with Batcher. Hunter tried telling her the hound’s gonna need a serious bath after this, but you know what Omega’s like. ‘She really wants to go! Look at her face!’” Echo said, chuckling. “Hunter and Wrecker went to take orders for a supply run. We’ll head out later today. You’re welcome to come along.”

Crosshair closed his eyes. There was still a deep exhaustion in his bones, the weight of everything that had happened yesterday. “I think I’ll stay. I could use some time to think after… well, you saw.” He hesitated. “And maybe I’ll try some of those exercises from AZI. Maybe.”

“If you feel up to it. It’s your choice.” 

”How did you know?” Crosshair asked cautiously.

“Know what?”

He opened his eyes, giving Echo a hard look. “You warned me. Told me I’d… need help. How did you know? I didn’t know.”

”Denial’s a powerful thing,” Echo mused. “You’re really good at it, you know.” 

Crosshair narrowed his eyes, baring his teeth slightly in a grimace. Echo was so infuriating when he was right.

”What we’ve been through… none of us were designed to survive that. But we did, and we’re still here. I know I struggled. There was just no way you wouldn’t,” Echo said, taking a drink of his caf. “But I knew you couldn’t face it ‘til you were ready, or until it caught up to you, one way or another.”

Crosshair sighed. “It’s annoying when you pull this older and wiser thing.”

“I’m aware,” Echo chuckled.

Crosshair leaned back against the couch, crossing his arms over his chest and closing his eyes. “When are you heading back out?”

”After this supply run. New intel from Rex, and after that, a meeting with Senator Chuchi. But it’s been good to visit.”

”We’ll miss you,” Crosshair muttered. He opened one eye to see Echo smiling faintly at him.

”We, huh?” Echo asked slyly.

“Uh-huh.”

“You know… I think you’ve earned that hug.”

”Oh no.”

”Oh yes.”

Echo set his mug of caf down and reached out, draping his scomp arm around Crosshair’s shoulders, closing the hug with his left arm until his cheek rested against Crosshair’s. Crosshair sighed, then reluctantly raised his arms and leaned in, letting out a long breath. 

Echo wasn’t much for hugs, and neither was Crosshair, but he had to admit it was a pretty good hug.

---

“Oi, Crosshair!”

”What?”

”Gimme a hand with Batcher, would ya?” Wrecker called from down the hall an hour later.

”Why me? Omega’s the one who insisted on taking her out in the rain,” he called back.

”Sorry!” Omega hollered from her room. “But I’m supposed to meet Lyana soon! I lost track of time, and --”

“All right, but next time, Omega --”

“I know, I know, sorry!”

Crosshair sighed, getting up from where he’d been sitting on his bed, reviewing the datapad with AZI’s exercises for the new hand. He’d read through all of them twice now, trying to absorb them. He hesitated, then picked up the prosthetic, took a deep breath, and twisted it into place on his wrist. The hand fluttered as the connection to his nerves reestablished itself. 

He got to his feet and poked his head into the open refresher door, where Wrecker had Batcher in his arms. The lurca hound was whimpering, clinging to him for dear life as he held her above the bath full of water.

”Batcher, enough is enough,” Crosshair said. Her paws and belly were encrusted in mud and sand; no wonder Wrecker wanted to give her a bath. “Go on, put her in. Batcher, be good.”

Wrecker settled the hound into the tub of water, where she splashed in and gave them both a piteous look, followed by an eerie howl that echoed in the small room. “Batcher, come on! Don’t be such a baby!” Wrecker bawled at her. She just turned to Crosshair, looking somehow even more bedraggled and pathetic.

”You’re filthy,” Crosshair said brusquely. He knelt down by the hound, grabbing the shampoo, and started massaging it into the short spiky hair of her shoulders and crest. His right hand moved nearly as smoothly as his left. 

“You’re tryin’ it out again,” said Wrecker, lathering up his hands and working on Batcher’s back end. She rumbled, appreciating the massage. “How’s it feel?”

Crosshair shrugged. “Feels okay, for now.” His mouth quirked in a half smile. “I guess it doesn’t matter if it shakes giving the hound a bath.”

”Nah,” said Wrecker. “It doesn’t matter at all.” He gave Crosshair a knowing look. 

They focused on getting the hound clean, lathering her up, letting out the dirty water from the bath, rinsing her clean. Crosshair grabbed a spare towel as the last of the water drained out of the bath, rubbing the hound’s big head dry. His right hand obeyed him perfectly well, though he felt a slight headache from the effort. “See, hound? You needed that,” he said sternly.

Batcher leaned forward, slurping him across the face. “Eurgh!” he exclaimed, scrubbing his face with his hand. 

“I think she appreciates you, Cross,” Wrecker laughed. 

“Hm,” he said skeptically. She leapt out of the tub, but Wrecker blocked her from escaping out the open door, swiftly getting another towel around her. Reluctantly she let him finish, and when she was only damp, Wrecker let her go. She bolted into the hall.

Wrecker got to his feet, soaking wet. “I think I got cleaner than Batcher.”

”You probably needed that.”

”Careful, or I’ll throw you in the bath,” Wrecker warned. He wasn’t joking. He’d done it before.

”All right, all right, truce,” said Crosshair, warding Wrecker off with a gesture with both hands.

“Ha, thanks. Don’t think I could’ve done it without you.”

”You’d have been fine.”

Wrecker grinned. “Yeah, maybe. Felt less like a chore this way though.” He grabbed another towel, trying to dry himself off, and tossed one to Crosshair. For a moment they both worked on trying to remove some of the water Batcher had splashed them with.

”Hey, you wanna come with us on a supply run?” Wrecker asked after a few moments. “Could get a little fresh air. I think we’re gonna stop by Batuu, it’ll be nice to see the place again. Sounds like the Empire hasn’t messed it up yet.”

Crosshair considered. He hadn’t realized they were going to Batuu; they’d run a few missions there back during the war with Commander Cody, and it had been a pleasant place, if a little backwater. Good food, too. But there was something still unfolding within him, a sense that the storm that had overtaken yesterday wasn’t done yet. He let out a long breath. 

“Next time.” He glanced up at Wrecker, who searched his face and nodded. 

“I get it. Need your space and stuff.” He smiled lopsidedly. “You and Tech and your alone time. I never got that. Hate bein’ alone.”

Crosshair’s throat tightened, but he didn’t feel the urge to duck out of the conversation or change the subject. He just nodded as Wrecker clapped him on the shoulder. “‘Spose so.”

”You change your mind? Let us know.”

He nodded. “Oh, I will.” He reached for a toothpick, chewing it idly.

Wrecker glanced down at the metallic hand. “Looks like it’s working okay now. But if it doesn’t -- you know it doesn't have to be perfect, right?”

Crosshair thought back. Had it shaken even once, this whole time? He wasn’t sure. It had worked well enough for what he’d needed it for. 

Maybe that was plenty. Maybe Wrecker was right. He nodded. “Yeah. Guess it is.”

”You’ll be okay, Cross. I know it,” Wrecker said. “You got this.”

”What, bathing the hound?”

Wrecker laughed, flinging his towel over his shoulders. He headed out of the refresher and towards the bedroom, glancing back at Crosshair as he left. “Nah. I mean — everything else.”

Crosshair blinked. Huh. 

Here, on a new day, he could almost believe his brother.

---

“You don’t have to come with me, you know,” Omega said, climbing up the stairs beside Crosshair. The skies overhead were heavy with dark gray clouds. Though the rain had stopped for now, the clouds suggested there’d be another storm. 

Batcher had come with them for the climb to upper Pabu.  She’d had an awful lot of fun in the morning rain, though Omega felt a squirm of guilt at having left her brothers to clean her up. She hoped the pause in the weather would last until Batcher got back home so she wouldn’t need two baths in a day.  She whistled at the hound, reminding her not to get too far ahead of them.

“You said that I could come,” Crosshair pointed out. He followed Batcher up to the next landing. “But if you insist, I can always leave.” He half-turned around, and Omega caught up to him, shoving him back up toward the hill. He smirked at her.

”No, that’s not what I meant!” Omega laughed. “I thought maybe you needed to rest more. After, you know…”

“Nah,” he said. ”Slept better last night than I have in a long time.” He wore an odd look, as if he hadn’t meant to say it, but the words had slipped out of him. The toothpick in his mouth wobbled.

She reached out, taking his right hand in hers. The metal feel of the palm and fingers was strange, but not wholly unfamiliar. She was used to Echo’s scomp as part of him, and while this was different, it was still Crosshair. She squeezed his hand, and he squeezed back briefly before she let him go.

”Really?” she asked hopefully as they climbed. 

“Yeah. Things… felt quieter.” He let out a long breath, looking guilty. “But you shouldn’t have seen that yesterday.”

She frowned. “Seen what?”

His face twisted, and he gestured at himself with his metal hand. “What do you think?”

”Oh.” She reached up, patting his back. He’d been so… open, yesterday. She hadn’t been scared of him, even when he’d been upset, panicking, angry. If anything, she’d been heartbroken to realize how awful he still felt. “I didn’t mind.”

He scowled at her, then looked away. Batcher circled back from up the stairs, returning to Crosshair’s side. “I fell apart.”

Omega shrugged. “Kind of seemed like you had a good reason to me. Lots of good reasons even.” 

“Still. I’m supposed to be -- I should have been --” He let out a short huff as he kept going up the stairs. “I didn’t want to be like that. Especially in front of everyone.” 

“But how do you feel now?”

He gave her one of those soft looks, a look she never saw him give the others. It turned into a smile, one of the rare ones that reached his eyes. “Better,” he confessed.

Omega grinned up at him, stopping on the stairs and putting her hands on her hips. “So maybe it wasn’t all bad. And maybe if you talked about things that bother you more often, it wouldn’t be so hard to do.” 

“And now you’re lecturing me,” Crosshair said drily, pausing beside her and shaking his head. “When did you get so wise?”

“Maybe that’s my enhancement,” she teased as they resumed the climb. “Jealous?”

He chuckled. “Maybe a little.” He rested his metal hand on her shoulder. It trembled slightly, and he glanced down at it, frowning. But he didn’t panic. He just gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze, then brought his hand up to examine it. “It’s doing it again,” he admitted.

“I’m sorry, Crosshair,” she said. It had never occurred to her that that could happen, but it made sense if the hand connected to his nervous system, to his mind. But she’d seen his hand start to get better before. She knew if he worked at it, it could get better again.

As if he’d read her mind, he asked, “You meditating again?”

Batcher galloped ahead, and Omega quickened her pace, skipping up the next several stairs. ”Uh-huh,” she said, mimicking him. He raised his eyebrow slightly, catching it. “Ever since you checked on me in the middle of the night. I’ve been sleeping better, too.” 

”Maybe I’ll join you next time,” he said, reaching the next landing. He patted Batcher on the top of her crest, and she rumbled appreciatively.

”You mean it, Crosshair?” Omega asked as she drew up beside him. 

“I mean, I’m only doing this for you. That’s all,” he said, attempting to look cool and distant. He wasn’t doing a very good job. Crosshair could look intimidating, and frightening, and severe… but now he seemed a little unsure. Something about the set of his eyes. 

”I think that’s a perfectly good reason,” Omega said, smiling widely at him. “And I’m sure it’s just a coincidence that it makes you feel better, too.”

“We’ll see.” Crosshair smiled. “But if it makes me less cranky, it can’t be all bad.” 

She giggled, and they climbed the rest of the stairs with Batcher beneath the still gray sky.

---

The market was alive with activity, everyone trying to get in their shopping before the rains returned. Some were clearly more pessimistic than others, wearing ponchos or broad-brimmed hats as if to ward off the rain that hadn’t yet fallen. Crosshair and Batcher wove in among them. Omega had peeled off to go spend time with her friend; she’d forgo the supply run this time, opting instead to stay the night at Lyana’s. It’d be Crosshair and the hound for the evening once his brothers headed out, and that suited him fine.

There was a restlessness within him, a sense of incompletion. He could feel it skittering around his skull, a need clawing quietly but incessantly inside his head. After yesterday’s storm, there was unfinished business. He thought he knew what he needed to do. It was just a matter of screwing up the courage to do it.

Deep in thought, he stopped by their regular stalls automatically. They needed more of the spicy sauces Wrecker loved. More sheets of dried seaweed for rolls and soups, bundles of fresh seaweed for salads. More soap for all the hound had gone through this morning. Lost in thought, he nearly bumped into a bent aged Twi’lek woman, her lavender lekku swaying in the breeze. She turned around, looking him over, then her face lit up.

“Crosshair!” she said. He recognized her. Marhee Narjin, the elderly artist whose fish he’d delivered. Her face creased into a broad smile. “I do not know why, but I got a burst of energy today and decided to visit the market. It is lovely to see you again.”

He nodded, unsure of what to say. She spotted Batcher and held out her hand for the hound to sniff. Batcher responded with an enthusiastic lick, and the woman laughed.

“What a delightful creature!”

“That’s Batcher. She’s a lurca hound,” Crosshair explained.

“She has quite the smile,” Marhee said. “I suspect you do too, though I know you are a serious soul.”

How did this stranger always seem to see through him? He cleared his throat awkwardly. “...do you need a hand with anything?”

“No, I’ll be all right. Young Deke is going to help bring my shopping back down,” she said. “But do visit sometime, Crosshair. My offer to paint you still stands.”

Crosshair considered. Words burst out of him before he could stop them. “Do you give lessons? In -- in art.” He slipped his metallic hand into his pocket. Maybe he’d understand art better than Wrecker’s net weaving, and it’d be something he could do to practice with his hand. AZI’s exercise list had been clear that repetitive fine movements were needed to solidify the link between the hand and the brain.

Her eyes widened, the wrinkles at their edges deepening. “Why, of course I can.” She thought for a moment. “Say, this time next week?”

Before he could lose his nerve, he nodded. “All right. Do I need to bring anything?”

She laughed. “I have far more art supplies that I could ever hope to use. You will be doing me a favor, I promise.” She patted his arm, giving him a warm smile. “It was good to see you, young man.”

“You too,” he managed. Batcher gave him a curious look as the elderly woman brushed past them to continue her shopping. He looked down at the hound. “What, I can’t try new things?” She woofed her approval.

They finished up the shopping, making their way back to the main area of the colonnade. They passed the Archium, no longer a place he shied from, now just another part of Pabu. Up ahead he could see Wrecker, Hunter and Echo standing in the square, waving goodbye to Shep as he headed back to his home. 

Crosshair nodded to the older man as he passed. “Good luck with the girls,” he said. Together, Omega and Lyana were an unstoppable force of giggles, games, crafts, and chaos. 

Shep laughed. “They’re watching a romance marathon on the holonet tonight. That might occupy them, unless Lyana starts ranting about bad characterization or Omega gets up in arms about unrealistic depictions of military operations. Those two are something else.”

“They are. It’s good for them, though,” he said.

Shep nodded. “Absolutely.” He gave Crosshair a fond smile. “We’ll send her home before dark tomorrow. As long as they don’t wear me down into another sleepover.” He shook his head, laughing. “I try, but I can’t always stand up to Lyana when she gives me those eyes.”

Crosshair pictured Omega’s blazing determination, mixed with her wide brown eyes, the sweet hope that so often crossed her face, the way she could get him to do things that no one else in the galaxy could. “I know what you mean.”

“I figured as much. Take care, Crosshair. Make sure you get in before the rains come back.”

“Noted. The hound’s already had one bath today, we’ll try to avoid another.”

They went their separate ways, and Crosshair closed the distance to where his brothers stood in a loose semicircle. Batcher loped up to them, getting petted by each of them in turn.

“Sorting out requests?” Crosshair asked.

“The island’s running low on a few things,” Hunter said. “Medical supplies especially, but textiles, droid replacement parts… they could all use a top-up. We’ll see what we can scrounge on Batuu. Some of our old contacts from the war are still active there.”

“Too bad Omega’s sitting this one out,” Wrecker said. “But I’ll bring her back somethin’ from Kat Saka’s. It’s no Mantell Mix, but I think she’ll like it.”

“She’s got her own life now,” Crosshair pointed out. “She doesn’t need to hang out with us all the time anymore.”

“It’s good for her,” Echo said. “Hanging out with you all can be a bit much sometimes.” He cracked a grin. 

“Oh, go on then,” said Crosshair. He waved a hand at Echo. “Get out of here already.”

“Ha! I can see when I’m not wanted,” Echo said. He reached out, offering his hand, and Crosshair gripped it with his own. “Until next time, Crosshair.”

“Keep an eye on these two,” Crosshair said, gesturing towards Wrecker and Hunter.

“Like I need supervision!” Wrecker snorted, smacking Crosshair on the shoulder so hard he took half a step back. “See ya, Cross. Batcher.”

Hunter raised his eyebrows. “Wrecker, don’t get me started…” Wrecker just laughed, heading back to the ship with Echo. Hunter, Batcher and Crosshair were left alone.

“Sure you don’t --” 

“Want to come with you?” Crosshair finished. “I’m sure. The others already asked.”

Hunter shrugged, crossing his arms over his chest. “Being alone right now… Is that the best idea?”

Crosshair took a deep breath. Hunter had seen the worst of him yesterday; the worst, the lowest, the most broken he’d ever been. He hadn’t turned away. He’d stayed. He knew why Hunter would be worried about him being on his own now.

He wouldn’t be alone, not with what he was intending, but he didn’t know how to explain that.

Instead he said, “There’s something I need to do. On my own.” He looked at Hunter, holding his gaze. “I can’t keep running from it.”

Hunter gave him a searching look, then nodded. “All right. Do what you need to do.” He smiled, holding out his hand to clasp Crosshair’s.

Crosshair looked down at his brother’s hand, then glanced around. Wrecker and Echo had boarded the ship already. No one else was nearby.

He knocked Hunter’s hand out of the way and quickly, awkwardly, gave him a hug, pinning Hunter’s arms to his sides. He pulled back before Hunter had fully realized what had happened, and glanced away, swallowing. 

“That was… unexpected,” Hunter said, blinking dazedly with a surprised grin on his face.

“Don’t go making a thing of it,” Crosshair groused, reaching for another toothpick to hide the smile that was threatening to stretch his mouth. “Just -- thanks. For yesterday.”

“Understood,” said Hunter. “Well. We’re a comm away if you need anything. We should be back tomorrow.”

“Go on, go on,” Crosshair said. “Batcher and I have it covered.”

“All right then. Good luck, Crosshair.” Hunter ducked his head toward him in a nod, and turned and headed to the ship.

---

They made it home just before the clouds broke and the rains returned. “Get in, get in, or it’s another bath,” he urged Batcher, who didn’t need to be told twice. She galloped inside just as the faint sprinkles of raindrops turned into a torrential downpour. Crosshair let the door close behind them, catching his breath; it had been a sprint when he realized there was rain sheeting down across the sea, coming straight towards them.

Rain drummed on the roof, battering it with massive drops that almost sounded like an assault. Almost, but not quite; there was no blaster fire, no ordnance exploding, no whoops and hollers from Wrecker, no cold, emotionless orders from the Empire. Just the rain pounding the roof. Crosshair set down the shopping from the market, then went to the large picture window in the living room, flinging the shutters open. Gray clouds stormed and churned, and even with his enhanced vision it was difficult to see the shore through the blur of rain.

“It’s a big one,” he said to the hound, slipping off his shoes and padding back to the kitchen, where he began putting away the perishables. “It almost looks like Kamino.”

Except he was viewing the rain through a window sized to a family home, not to a military installation. The short trees and shrubs in view bent with the winds, their leaves in a frenzied dance. It was dim enough that the solar lights on the patio flickered faintly, trying to shine despite the minimal amount of energy they’d absorbed through this gloomy day. Everywhere he looked, there were reminders that despite the rain, this was as far from Kamino as it was possible to be.

He set about mixing Batcher’s food. The hound would eat anything, but her fur was glossiest with fish and meats and a little grain and greens. He mixed everything together as she watched, trembling with anticipation, drool flooding down her chin. “Ugh. Have a little dignity,” he said warmly. He set her food down and she leapt on it ferociously, devouring the bowlful in an instant. Satisfied, she let out a cheery howl, then wandered over to her massive bed and curled up in contentment.

He finished putting the rest of the market haul away. He thought something warm sounded good after the chill of being outside.  He opened the conservator and saw the last of Omega’s soup, resting on the top shelf.

His metal hand shook, and he let out a long breath, waiting for the wave to pass. The fingers twisted and shivered, and his head ached with the strain of the fragile new connection. 

Crosshair set his right hand down on the counter, thinking. He didn’t have to wear it all the time. He’d worn the prosthesis successfully all day today, and that was a victory after his meltdown. His mouth turned down in a frown. Maybe it was all right to take a break, now and then.

This time when he removed the hand, he was careful, gentle, precise. He released the mechanism that held the hand in place, bracing himself for the disquieting sensation of disconnection. It was easier this time, far less shocking, and he took the metal hand back to the bedroom, nestling it securely in its box. 

He’d try again tomorrow. He’d keep trying.

His right arm felt light again but tired, having had to accommodate the unfamiliar weight of the prosthesis. He went back to the kitchen and heated up Omega’s soup with only his left hand, using the tricks he had started to develop since the injury. Successful, he brought the soup over to the side table and chair closest by the window.

He ate, gazing out the window, deep in thought. The soup tasted even better the second day, the herbs and vegetables somehow more flavorful. Omega was getting all right at this cooking thing. 

Hunter was interested in cooking too, but so far he seemed to be better at growing stuff for dinner than cooking it. Wrecker was curious about trying to make sweets. All of them were branching out, developing new skills, civilian skills. It was strange to watch, given what they’d been made for, but Crosshair thought it was good despite that. 

They were becoming new versions of themselves, people who could do more than fight a war. Even he’d started doing it. He thought of the old woman and her art, and wondered if he could ever make things like her paintings someday.

Who would Tech have become?

He set his spoon down, closing his eyes, blinking back a sudden stinging.

His mind swirled with possibilities. Maybe Tech would have fallen in love with Phee. Maybe they would have had a family. Maybe he’d stop recording sounds as just a hobby and try making new ones of his own, music out of bird songs or deep space sounds or machinery noises. Maybe he’d become a galaxy-famous riot racer. 

He snorted slightly at that one. He wished he could have seen Tech racing for himself.

His arm throbbed. The pain was much rarer than it used to be, but still came now and then. He rubbed his arm, feeling it prickle with phantom sensation, and looked down at his stump. The attachment for the prosthesis was unobtrusive; it was easy to miss with a quick glance, all of the complicated parts being cunningly hidden under the skin. 

The hand he didn’t have closed its fist, as if it wanted to hold something. The ghostly sensation echoed in his bones.

Crosshair swallowed. He’d waited long enough.

He got to his feet and closed the distance to the little alcove. Over the past few weeks, more things had joined the goggles here. A holoscan Captain Rex had taken of all five of them, after Anaxes and Skako Minor. A bracelet Omega had made, threaded with colors of Tech’s armor, white, yellow, black, brown, red. A particularly glittery blue-green stone Wrecker had found and put there, saying proudly that Tech would have known what it was. 

Crosshair picked the goggles up in his left hand, supporting them with his right arm, and brought them back to his seat. He rested them in his lap.

He’d never let himself get this close to them before. Their weight on his legs was slight, and if he closed his eyes he could imagine there was nothing there. But when he opened them, the shattered lenses stared back, every crack and scratch a crushing weight.

He gulped. Tried to speak.

“Omega says -- Omega says she talks to you sometimes.”

His voice sounded flat in the empty living room, small against the rain outside. The torrential pace had slowed, the drumming against the roof softer and slower, and his voice vanished beneath the sound. 

“This is stupid, isn’t it,” he muttered. He nearly got up and put the goggles back where he’d found them.

But there was still that feeling buried with him, that sense that he needed this. It’d been growing all day, twitching in his fingers, pulsing with each heartbeat. This was necessary. And he had to stop hiding from it.

Coward.

He heard it in Mayday’s voice, in Cody’s, in Tech’s. But it wasn’t true. He’d fought back on Barton IV. He’d escaped Tantiss, and he’d gone back. He was a lot of things, but coward wasn’t one of them. He knew that much. 

He could do this.

He held the goggles up again, forcing himself to visually trace every crack, every shivered splinter, every scratch and scrape. He examined the flexible strap that had once secured them neatly around Tech’s head, noting each little mark and point of wear. His stomach twisted with a terrible frisson at a dark red smudge deep on the inner left rim where the cracks were worst. His fingers traced the auxiliary camera mounted on the right lens. He wondered if the recordings were stored somewhere.

He wondered what was the last thing Tech ever saw.

“How could you,” he whispered. He didn’t know his voice could sound so small. “How could you leave?”

He sank back against the chair, dropping the goggles back into his lap as he gazed out the window. The rain was now a calm, steady drizzle, drenching the world beyond their little home.

“You were the smart one. How could something so stupid take you out?” he growled. A fall? Child’s play. It should have been the zillo beast towering fifty meters high, or a dozen platoons of clankers, or someone like Asajj Ventress at the height of her evil. Crosshair had always assumed Tech would be there forever, too intelligent, too crafty, too brilliant to ever lose the fight. 

But he had lost, in the most permanent, final way, and the utter injustice of it howled up within him in a wave of rage. “Damn it, Tech!” he snapped at the goggles. “It should have been me. You were right, you were all right, and I’m the one who should have paid the price. But you’re gone -- and I never got to --”

His voice caught in his throat. “I never got to --”

To see you again.

To apologize.

To tell you I changed.

Kamino was so far away now. It was hard to imagine they’d once been small, that they used to sleep in the same bunk when there were thunderstorms, all knobby knees and elbows poking each other, nowhere else they’d rather be as the thunder crashed. He remembered Tech looking out for him when he was still the smallest and skinniest. He remembered giving more than one reg a black eye for making fun of Tech’s goggles. They’d been batchmates. Squadmates. Friends.

Brothers.

The storm, when it came, wasn’t the explosion of yesterday. Today tears slid down his face, slow, quiet, steady. 

The rain outside fell, slow, quiet, steady.

This wasn’t Kamino. The rain continued falling, silver-gray lines blurring the shrubbery, the rocks, the sea. This was a new life, a second chance.

“You deserve this,” Crosshair said hoarsely. “More than I ever will.” His fingers closed over the goggles again, tracing their lines. He took a deep, shuddering breath, and scrubbed at the tears on his cheek with the back of his arm. The scar at his empty wrist stared back at him.

The scar would always be there, the agony of the loss an irrefutable fact. Even if he worked with his new hand, the scar would never go away. The memories might fade, but he would never be free of them entirely.

He knew now the grief would linger, too. Tech was gone. Nothing Crosshair could do would bring him back. The wound would always, always be there.

But a scar -- a wound he could survive, a wound he could grow past, a wound that could heal -- that, he could live with.

He sank deeper into the chair, trying to calm his breathing. He thought of Omega, her kindness, her love. She bore it like a badge against the world, her love just as fierce for him as for the others. She thought he deserved to be here. Maybe it was time to believe her. 

He breathed in. Breathed out. The rain kept on.

Slowly he got to his feet, shuffling back to the alcove. He set Tech’s goggles down reverently, making sure they were properly centered in pride of place.

“I won’t waste it, Tech,” he whispered, and hearing Tech’s name in his own voice hurt. But it felt good, too: a reminder that even though Tech had never been in this house, had never set foot here, his presence was still felt here deeply. It was clear in this little space they’d made for him, in the memories his siblings shared. 

Crosshair nodded to himself. He would carry Tech with him, the way he still carried Mayday. He owed him that much. 

He owed him everything.

He wiped his face again, then blinked when Batcher nudged him, giving him a look to let her outside. He glanced at the rain, presently a little lighter than a drizzle. “All right, all right, I’m going.”

He slipped his shoes on and opened the door, rounding the corner to the patio to watch the hound and keep her from barreling through any puddles. She’d apparently remembered his admonishment about the bath, though, and avoided the muddy areas. She finished up and came to sit beside him, pressing her muzzle into his palm for him to pet.  He smiled down at her, patting her obligingly.

Crosshair took a deep breath. The air was fresh, clean, rich; the scents of the plants seemed sharpened, fuller and rounder and deeper than they usually were. Cool drops of water danced against his skin, his hair, his shirt. He gazed out at the ocean, the rolling waves distant below him, blurred by the gentle rain that vanished into the sea. 

Crosshair listened as the rain fell against the ground, the roof, the plants and flowers. It was a sweet sound, soft, familiar, safe. 

It didn’t sound like Kamino. It sounded like Pabu, like waves upon the shore, like breath flowing in and flowing out.

It sounded like home.