#again I know it’s because they were low on energy and supplies

[random-kido]

pov: your husbands a little fucked up actually

(it’s ok so are you)

[buckets-and-trees]

Desperate [Bucky x Reader]

Fandom: MCU Title: Desperate Characters/Pairings: Bucky Barnes x female!Reader Word Count: 3k 

Summary: Enemies? Rivals? It's always been reluctant teamwork between you and the Winter Soldier, but when put in a situation where personal feelings have to be put aside, maybe actual personal feelings are uncovered.

Content Warnings: kidnapping, sex pollen ergo DUBIOUS CONSENT, sexual situations (named acts, non-explicit depictions of vaginal sex), medical elements (needles, IVs, experience of medical distress)

Thank You Notes: BIGGEST SHOUT OUTS to @sgt-seabass who beta loved this into what it is and @vonalyn who helped supply me with some of the vital energy I needed. This was SUPPOSED to be an answer to this little sleepover ask @povlvr had graced me with... but then it became this! Logistical Notes: Filling my eleventh square for Bucky Barnes Bingo @buckybarnesbingo - Y2 "Reluctant Teamwork" and @buckybarnesevents Hot Bucky Summer Week 9 which is technically a "FREE WEEK" but had sex pollen listed as one of the suggested things to play with, so... that's why we're here now.

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You were an old SHIELD contact that Steve knew before Project Insight. He didn't know you well then, but you had crossed paths a few times. You were an analyst sometimes assigned to Steve's missions. You went to work for the CIA after the Triskellion takedown, where you stayed for a couple of years, before eventually moving into the private sector.

When Steve, Nat, Sam, and Wanda were outlaws on the run, they bumped into you again, and you became an ally and valuable contact in your new area of the country - and ultimately a friend. And trusted enough that you knew about Bucky - and Bucky heard about you.

Bucky didn't love that you were an element in Steve's life. He hadn't met you, hadn't been able to get his own read on you. 

He'd been wary initially about Nat, Sam, and Wanda, but he'd been able to meet them and build his own trust - and they'd all ultimately put their lives and reputations on the line for him. 

It wasn't that he was distrustful of everyone anymore and needed people to put their lives on the line to prove themselves. Those who had sided with Steve over Tony in the Zemo affair aside, he'd also learned to trust others again in Wakanda with so many of the royal family and the royal guard building relationships with him. 

But with you he didn’t know you, and so he didn't like it.

What Bucky loathed even more? 

You didn't blip out. For five years, you were there for Steve when he couldn't be. You were apparently there so much that when Steve left, he fucking said to watch out for you. The punk.

Bucky didn’t know Steve dropped in on you, too, and asked you to keep an eye out for Bucky the day he gave Sam the shield. You promised you would.

You reached out. Not immediately, but in the weeks after.

Bucky was... less than kind.

Frankly, he was surly, ungrateful, short, and rude. 

Pieces were moving and with Bucky's reappearance in the United States, the question of his future was an immediate concern. Public and government representatives were demanding trials, pardons, and all the rest.

You told him you had found an excellent contact for a lawyer.

"No, thanks, I can find my own," the words were polite, but the tone was clipped, flat, low - almost a growl. 

Being so abruptly shut down, you decided to cut the phone call first and on your terms, so you wished him luck - managing to be more polite than him, making it sound genuine - and hung up.

You called Matt Murdock yourself, and told him about Bucky's case.

You did it only because of your promise to Steve.

And a little bit because you knew you were fucking right and that Bucky needed your lawyer contact. 

Matt chuckled, told you he knew about stubbornness, and that he'd go about approaching the Winter Soldier diplomatically and professionally.

Matt pulled off the best possible pardon deal, even if not everything about it was ideal.

When Pepper decided to get back into some of the Avenger support again - after the Flag Smashers business - so she could provide some more trustworthy resources for Sam and Bucky and the old crowd, you were one of the people she ended up scouting and recruiting to come work on the direct home support team with research and tactical support. Sometimes you went into the field with the team, but usually you stayed at home base and relayed with the agents over comms. 

This was not because you weren't outstanding, but because it was clear the less time you and Bucky spent in proximity to each other, the less awkward it was for everyone else on the team. You were both professional enough to keep the animosity out of things during a mission over comms, and that was about it. 

Otherwise, it was silent treatment and resentment.

Neither of you extended the woes of your dislike for each other actively to anyone else on the team, keeping your mouths shut about your feelings, and engaging in only occasional and minimal eye-rolling when either of you was mentioned. Bucky made a point of giving you electrolyte-enhanced waters first whenever you did go into the field on a mission with them, as if you were a toddler who couldn’t take care of yourself. 

Sitting by you at a holiday dinner at Sam’s you almost thought there was a moment of thaw between you and the Winter Soldier, but you didn’t push the almost comfortable silence between you to anything more - knowing it had been long-established he only tolerated you. It was clearly only a temporary pause, meaning very little as Bucky continued to push for you not being put into the field with them. You didn’t need to be around his close scrutiny. He made getting over any initial crush you might have had on him very easy. 

Things were fine like that for a little over a year. 

And then you were abducted on your way back from a mission outside of Paris where you had been part of the local ground team, taken and smuggled out of the airport. It was not HYDRA this time, just leftover cretins who blipped away but now were back, stirring up their own operation which hoped to double down on being even more nefarious. They were interested in testing some of their new methods and resources while also trying to extract some sensitive information.

Why not kill two birds with one stone by snatching up a well-connected and informed analyst at the heart of the neo-Avengers operation?

They recovered files from debunked HYDRA facilities (hard drives were wiped, but motivated hackers knew how to dig beneath what had been wiped to recover remnants - in hindsight, SHIELD should have taken the tech to a secure location) and developed an even more concentrated and powerful form of sex pollen. They were interested in how it would be absorbed in both the aerosol and liquid forms they had developed. Why not try out both forms on you? 

The aerosol was potent enough, but not in a way that would break you for their line of inquiries.

So, they injected it right into your veins.

Compounding with what had already been ingested into your system, everything intensified, and you - much more quickly than they anticipated - moved past what may have been a state where they could've coaxed the information they wanted out of you. 

Quickly you progressed to the point where you were consumed by this toxin, your body raging and desperate for the physical activity that will get you to a sexual release and flush the toxin from your system. You were keening and moaning and crying, covered in sweat, straining painfully against your bonds, unable to focus on anything anyone said to you. 

You were incoherent and not far from feral. 

Having gone beyond the point you could be giving them intelligence, you were still useful to provide information as the test subject, and they kept you on it through an IV drip to see the limits of what an average female body could take before it was completely broken.

You had absolutely no sense of how long this went on, only that you were not even crying tears anymore, just dry sobbing and wailing, because everything in your throat, and in your veins, and in your chest, and in your vagina burned. 

It was an agony you'd never experienced in your life. 

You vaguely registered a cacophony of sound around you, but it was like it was coming to you through a long dark tunnel, distorted and distant, and you couldn’t open your eyes to see what is going on, not that you could even think to or were capable of caring about anything other than the desperate purgatory you were enduring until you finally passed out.

Bucky and Sam were nearly back to base ops in New York from the Paris mission when the news of your abduction came through, and they turned around immediately. Teams working at home and in Paris - and Bucky in the air while Sam piloted - narrowed your likely whereabouts down to two locations: somewhere near Versailles (because of course evil operations are drawn to the ideas of opulence) or a compound outside of Brussels. 

Time already against them, Sam and Bucky made the tough decision that they needed to split up so they could investigate both options as quickly as humanly possible. Sam dropped Bucky at the well-equipped safe house less than an hour away from the suspected Versailles compound and then headed to Brussels.

After arming himself to the teeth as quickly as he could, Bucky fired up the Ducati in the garage of the safehouse that had been equipped with a noise dampener by your tech engineers, punched in his navigational coordinates, and pushed to top speeds to get to there, stashing the bike half a kilometer away so he could make the rest of the approach in complete stealth.

The operation was much smaller than he anticipated, but because of its size it was almost immediately apparent to Bucky that this was where they had you, and he was also confident he would be able to drop this operation and get to you without as much trouble as he expected.

But in no way could he have predicted the state he would find you in.

He heard your agonizing cries and keening within moments of entering the facility, and he'd already dropped four agents at that point, but the excruciating pain he heard from you was its own form of torture in itself. 

He picked up the pace, tearing ruthlessly through everyone else that came between him and you.

He got the full view of the condition you were in only moments before you passed out. He quickly undid all the bindings and removed everything they had attached to monitor your vitals. He unhooked the IV drip but had the presence of mind to take the bag for testing later. It was inelegant, but he hefted you over his shoulder, and everyone else still conscious who got in his way of getting you out was incapacitated with a single kill shot.

It was close to midnight when he reached the safe house and carefully tucked you into one of the beds. He pulled a secure laptop and some of the base medical testing equipment into the bedroom and kept watch over your catatonic form while he started running tests on the substance you’d been hooked up to and sent the base data for his samples to the bioengineering team back at HQ.

Over the next hour your body experienced a few fits of violent shaking, but you didn’t rouse until almost 2am. When you did, it was with great heaving gasps, and your arms flailed, your hands grasping at the sheets, at your clothes, and then at Bucky when he appeared almost immediately at your side trying to soothe you. He had a theory he hoped wasn’t true – that he knew what was running through your veins – but it was confirmed when you clutched and pawed desperately at him. Then your eyes met his, there was a recognition but coupled with devastating desperation, and you started babbling his name and pleading, “Bucky, please, Bucky. Need. Bucky, help. Bucky, Bucky, Bucky.”

He’d been in distress over you since he first heard your tortured cries hours before, and he knew you needed him.

He wouldn’t deny you. 

He knew the anguish of being a slave within one’s own mind. 

He worked both of you out of your clothes quickly, and then laid you back on the bed and crawled above you. “I gothcu, shh, I know what you need.” You cried, but with a glimmer of relief, when he sunk into your desperately wet cunt. He thrust diligently into you while you clung to his shoulders and wrapped your legs around his waist. 

The first orgasm was quick, and provided a glorious wave of relief that helped, but it was not enough. 

Not even close.

For nearly two hours he let you use him, pulling him into you, riding him, kneeling under him on all fours while he wrapped an arm around your waist and took you from behind. 

It was relentless fucking until you hit the point of being utterly depleted – mercifully coinciding with when the chemicals seemed to have finally been flushed from your system with enough of the endorphins released into your bloodstream from the numberless orgasms. 

If anyone but a super soldier had found you, Bucky genuinely worried they may not have been enough to help. Seeing you at the utter extreme of limits, in dangerous territory, had shaken something inside him he wasn’t prepared to discover. There had been no question in his mind that he had to get you through it. 

He smoothed your hair off your face and let your body gently sink back into the mattress, then got up and went to the bathroom, returning with a warm washcloth. He wiped your brow first, and you sighed in relief, eyes already closed in bone-tired weariness. Bucky gently wiped the sweat from your neck, continued moving down your body, and then with a second warm cloth he’d also brought, he gently wiped away the mess of slick that had seeped down your thighs. He carefully redressed your exhausted form, sliding you back into your discarded underwear and his t-shirt that was close enough to scoop up from the floor, and tucked you into the covers. You were asleep before he had finished taking care of you.

As you rested, he continued his vigilant watch from before. You stirred an hour or so later. It was still dark, but with almost a hint that sunrise would be creeping to the edges of the windows soon. He moved to your side again, this time with water, which he pressed to your lips, helping you to set up so you could drink. You began to gulp it down, but slowed when he tried to soothe you and urged you to slow your intake.

When you were nearly done downing the glass, your eyes opened briefly, but catching Bucky’s wary gaze on you, you shut them again. Not before Bucky saw the flash of anguish, however. You scooted away and turned your back, pulling your knees up and burying your head in your arms.

Bucky wanted to reach out and touch you, but settled for softly uttering your name, trying to coax you to look at him.

You refused, consumed with shame and horror.

Your throat was thick with a different kind of agony. 

That episode of pain and innate need had ended, but this? 

This was a new hell you would have to endure. 

“Bucky, I’m sorry, and I know I owe you my life and probably all of my sanity, but please, please go. Please leave me be and don’t put me through the humiliation right now of being here only because you were resigned to helping me despite hating me. I’ll have to bear that forever, but please, just… please at least leave me to myself until we get out of here.”

He was silent for a moment.

“Fuck, I don’t hate you – I never truly hated you,” he said. It was quiet, but perfectly audible in the silence of the pre-dawn.

You raised your head tentatively.

He took a deep breath and continued. “I only kept it up to save face since I drove you to despise me and was too proud to turn it around.”

You were truly overwhelmed. You wanted to say something but had no idea how to respond to that admission, especially when you were already wrung out to the very edges of your emotional state.

“I’ve respected you for a long time now.” Bucky broke the silence.

“You have?”

“Probably more than respected you, if I’m being honest.”

You were still exhausted despite having slept for the past few hours, but you pushed your mind to think… you started to reconsider the thaw from hostility to civility, that he argued with you in group settings less, how everything had become less grudging. But you knew you’d put up your own protective walls to shield you from his scrutiny because it had hurt too much to have been spurned by him when you’d reached out to try and forge that relationship with him after Steve left initially. 

And so much of tonight had been a feverish haze, but you had small pieces that were stained into your memory, some of which were him and things you couldn’t categorize as the actions of anything less than someone who cared. 

“How do you feel about me?” you ventured. 

The two of you looked into each other’s eyes for a few long moments.

“I don’t know that I can explain it all yet – I don’t think I know the words for it, but… let me show you? No chemicals, just us, see what’s really here?” He reached out a tentative hand to cover one of yours.

You nodded.

You let him move in.

You let him kiss you.

You let him lay you down beneath him again, and this time you sunk into each other. 

You cried again, but this time from the immense emotion. You could feel it rolling off of him and pouring into you, a balm starting to fill in the anguished pieces of your soul. Your spent bodies pushed through any tiredness and desperately moved together again, relentlessly motivated this time to slake the emotional hunger growing between you. Touches that explored, that carved into memory, that expressed. 

This time when you were both only finished by exhaustion, you curled into each other and slept, feeling the beginnings of solace and true peace, a turning of the tide, and maybe the acknowledgement that emotions that had run so deeply between you two were only felt so strongly because you truly valued the other even from the beginning.

READ THE FOLLOW UP DRABBLE: UNCERTAIN AND SURE

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[eyelessfaces]

caregiver

miguel o'hara x reader

summary: when miguel sees how wrong your mission went, he only wishes for you to let him take care of you.

warnings: description of injuries, blood is mentioned once and there's not a lot of it

tags: gn!reader, slight angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, fucking oblivious idiots in love

word count: 1.8k

masterlist | taglist | ao3

I love him

You pressed the button of the strap around your wrist with difficulty, opening a portal to the spider society. 

It took a good amount of your strength just to get back onto your feet after having collapsed into an empty alley after finally escaping the people chasing you, and you were thankful that your webs had helped you transport yourself earlier, because your legs couldn’t have done the job. 

It was the first time you had fled a scene without stopping the bad guys, but if you hadn’t fled it, they would have stopped you, and worse could have happened.

When you arrived at the spider society, almost everyone stopped in their task or conversation to stare at you, watching you limp through the crowd. A few of them gathered around you and offered you help, but you gave them a small smile and a lame excuse and that seemed to be enough for you to be able to move on. 

That was until Miguel turned his head at the hubbub you had caused and saw the state you were in.

He pushed every other spider person away, making his way to you hurriedly, his eyes gradually widening and lips parting in disbelief as he made his way to you.

"What on earth happened to you" he asked from a distance, his path now clear as everyone had made way for him to join you. 

He stood right in front of you, and though he couldn't see your face, he could imagine it through your mask, and he knew you wouldn’t tell him what happened. 

He looked at his side and realized everyone was staring. He sighed and turned so his back was turned to you, now facing the crowd that had circled the both of you. "Nothing to see here, we're fine, you can go back to your occupations" he ordered, and people awkwardly moved on from the situation, trying to act like nothing happened.

Miguel turned back to you once the movement had dissipated, and his face dropped in worry again. He had seen the way you were limping, and he was now seeing how you were holding onto your left shoulder, thoroughly trying to cover it with your hand. And hell, you hadn't even dropped your mask, but from the cut in it on your forehead, it was already bad enough.

"What happened" he asked again, more calmly and composedly this time.

"It's okay, I'm fine" you discarded the question, starting to walk until he put a hand over your other shoulder to stop you.

"If you don't wanna tell me what happened, let me at least help you now" he almost whispered, his gaze falling to meet your eyes to let you know that he was serious about this.

"No."

With that you left him behind and continued walking, difficultly, and Miguel sighed one last time.

A startled yelp left you when he shot a web at you and pulled you to him, making you land over his shoulder. It was so easy for him, his superstrength allowing him to handle you like you were just a rag doll to him.

You hit his muscled back with the bit of strength left in you, your desperate ministrations barely affecting him. "Let go of m–"

"Look at the things I have to do for you to let me take care of you" he cut you off in a monotone and low voice, trying to ignore all the pairs of eyes glued to the both of you again as he carried you over his shoulder. 

You gave up on trying to fight him, you knew you couldn't even if you really wanted to, you didn't have enough energy and he wouldn't want to let go of you anyway.

—

He brought you to a secluded quarter with medical supplies, and you were finally alone and not putting on a show anymore. He pulled a chair thanks to a web, and made you sit down on it before getting another chair in front of you and gathering the stuff he would need to clean up your wounds.

"Sorry if I hurt you when I shot the web and pulled you to me, but if you weren't so stubborn–"

"That's okay, I appreciate your concern" you cut him off huffing a laugh until another jolt of pain from your shoulder coursed through your body, making you suck in air through your teeth.

He looked over at you and hurried to get everything ready to take care of your wounds, putting the stuff on the table next to the chairs once ready.

"Let me see your shoulder" he asked throwing his chin at it, noticing that your hand hadn't left the spot since you came back to the spider society.

You released your tight grip from the wound slowly and carefully, your covered hand stained with a bit of blood. The wound wasn't so bad, it wasn't too deep, but it was long scratches that hurt every time you moved your arm even just a bit.

The worst part of it for you was that you were going to have to change your suit now that it was ripped to shreds in that area.

"Okay" Miguel muttered, inspecting the injury. "I think you're gonna heal pretty fast, but the first days are gonna be tough. The placement isn't the easiest to live with" he said while sitting down in front of you.

"You wanna talk about good placement? I probably have a cut right over my face" you declared, sliding your fingers under the hem of your mask. "I haven't seen it yet but I felt it for sure." you grunted, taking the piece off with a sigh of relief, happy to finally feel some fresh air.

He stared at the slash going from the side of your eyebrow to your forehead, his gaze quickly diverting to his lap where he was getting his stuff ready when your eyes met.

"There's no good spot to get hurt. I just meant that there are spots where it won't disturb you while it's healing" he declared as he prepared the gauze pad and soaked it with disinfectant. "Your forehead, it won't get in your way. It's inconvenient because it's visible and in the middle of your face but it won't disturb you. Your shoulder, it gets annoying when you shower, when you sleep, when you want to reach and grab something"

"Right"

He pinched his lips in a skeptic smile. "You ready? It's gonna sting a bit" he declared looking at you seriously, and you responded with a small nod.

He took care of your shoulder first, helping you rip off your suit a bit more so he could have full access to the wound. Your heart ached at the sight of your beloved suit getting torn apart, but Miguel telling you that he would get you a new one, even better than this one, made you feel a bit better.

If you thought your shoulder was hurting before, it was nothing compared to that feeling when the disinfectant met your flesh. The sudden burning feeling made you let out a scream of pain, accompanied by a few swear words including a 'motherfucker' you hoped Miguel wouldn't take personally. 

He was trying to be gentle, he really was, the last thing he wanted to do was to hurt you, but no matter how soft he could be you both knew it would hurt anyways. You appreciated the way he tried to soothe you with kind words, telling you how good you were doing, telling you he was almost done cleaning it up and it was almost over.

You hoped he didn’t mind the way your nails were digging onto his bicep as you hissed in pain, and you knew he didn’t when his kind eyes met yours once he was done.

"Let me bandage you then it's over, okay?" he softly asked before shooting you a small smile. "It won't be as painful for your forehead."

—

You took the time to drink some well deserved and needed water before Miguel took care of your forehead. 

The proximity was another new feeling from this whole experience, and it almost made you forget about the slight pain located at the side of your face.

Miguel had your chin trapped between his thumb and forefinger to hold your face, causing your lips to slightly part. It was endearing to see him being so focused on trying not to hurt you, being so careful for each of his even smallest movements.

You hadn't even noticed he was done until he waved a hand in front of your face, making you apologize for being so disconnected from reality. You wished that moment could have lasted longer.

"Thank you" you absent-mindedly mumbled. "Sorry I was being a pain in the ass, I'm actually thankful you could take care of me" you softly smiled, and he mirrored your action.

"See, you should listen to me more often" he replied smugly, his soft smile changing to a toothy grin exposing his sharp fangs.

You huffed out a laugh and playfully hit his arm before shaking your head and standing up with a grunt.

"Hey" he called, a serious tone in his voice as he stood up in front of you. "I know you don't wanna tell me what happened but just know that I'll have Lyla get your previous location, I'll track them from here and I'll take care of them"

You paused for a second.

"You don't have to do this for me"

"I know" he declared, pinching his lips. "I want to."

"I'd need to properly thank you for that." you declared, raising your eyebrows until a sting reminded you of your cut there.

"You don't have to do that"

"I want to." you repeated his previous words with a smirk. You paused, then an idea came to your mind. "What about… What about you go to another universe with me so we can grab dinner?" you proposed, walking around your chair – still slightly limping – so you could slide it back under the table.

"So, a date"

"N– Yes." you bit down on your bottom lip as you looked back at him, trying to figure out what was going on in his head at that moment and studying his face, trying to guess if he would accept your offer. "If you want it to be"

"I think I'm fine with that." he smiled, crossing his arms.

"Good" you smiled back at him, your heart ready to burst out of your ribcage at any moment. "Shall we?" you asked, pressing the button to open a portal where the door of the room originally was.

"After you" he offered with a teasing smile, waving his hand at the halo. You grinned and started walking, until Miguel huffed out a laugh behind you. 

"God you need to do something about that limping. I guess I'll just have to keep carrying you around"

—

feedback is always extremely appreciated plsplspls!!

masterlist | taglist | ao3

spiderman 2099 taglist: @bubuslutty @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @mintgreen24 @dameronshandholder @spider-starry @jakecockley @midnight-the-shadow-wolf @cocodiem @pedropascalsidechick @spxctorsslxt @roxannarichie @vicolangelo @amb3rrz @inluvvwithme @friedwings @chaotic-neon-sign @foxglove-grove

[spideyhexx]

all of my ideas tonight include stitching up wounds after fights. so now im just thinking about taking care of billy after a fight. and you’re speaking to him in such a soft, soothing voice. and you two keep making eye contact. and after you’re done stitching up a cut on his temple he just mumbles a small “thank you, darlin’” and OHHHHHHHH…….. THE ROMANTIC TENSION IM CRUMBLING

I LOVE IT (and you, hugs) I AM ALSO gonna write this for my saccharine series CAUSE I HAVE TO

for more, saccharine

fyi, you don’t need to read the other parts of this series to enjoy this🫶

fem!reader

Billy comes into the camp his gang had set up for the next few weeks, stumbling, his nose bloodied, his knuckles red, the cut on his temple making him wince.

His eyes are squinting, and he almost rubs his bloody hands into his eyes, but he stops himself. No one seems to be awake until his eyes lock with you.

Once all the men were asleep, you took the opportunity to bathe in your lonesome. It was nice and relaxing to finally scrub some of the grime from your skin and the sweat from the day. Your head felt heavy with sleep already. You were walking to your little tent when you locked eyes with Billy.

Your heart drops at the sight of him, and a burst of energy flows through you as you drop your dirty clothes and run over to him.

"Bonney, what did you do? What happened?! You're bleedin' still, what did you-"

"Sweetheart," he stops you from talking, his voice low, gravelly almost. You forgo the blush that rushes to your cheeks when he uses that name. He usually only did when he was mocking you or playing your game back at you, but now his eyes looked dazed, out of it. You nod your head a few times, almost like you can't stop it.

"Okay, okay, uh, c'mon," and you take his arm, dragging him more into the camp and sitting him down on the log near the burnt-out firewood.

He sits down with a grunt, his mouth parting to say something to you, but you're running off before he can even speak. Billy sighs at it, shaking his head, but all it does is make him wince in pain again.

You come back with some supplies, your canteen falling out of your arms to his feet, but luckily not spilling the water as you rush.

"Easy, sweetheart," he says, his voice is so soft, it's unnatural to you, but you can't even take the time to appreciate it. Billy is both annoyed and thankful you're up. Annoyed because of course it's you that is still awake. Thankful because he knows you care. And care enough.

Despite his words, it's hard for you to slow down. You clean his hands first, at least the knuckles, kneeling on the ground in front of him, your brow furrowing at the sight of them. "These are gonna bruise a lot," you mumble more to yourself than him, but he still replies.

"'M aware." You glance up at him, and Billy's eyes look blank, tired. Your own soften and as you clean the remainder of his hands, you try to be gentler, dipping your rag into the water and cleaning the blood.

He keeps still, but his fingers twitch when you get to one of his fingers. Once you finish cleaning it, on instinct, you lean down and kiss his knuckle, your lips more ghosting over his skin than a firmer kiss. Billy's breath hitches slightly, but he doesn't comment on it, almost too stunned that you actually kissed him. Kissed a part of him.

"There, those are all clean," you say, mustering up a smile as you grab a new rag and start cleaning the blood on his face. His eyes bore into you and it makes your heart stop.

"You have an eye contact problem," you murmur, your face inching closer to his, but only to clean his nose better. Only for that reason.

"Thank you, sweetheart," he says, his voice dripping in sarcasm and it quirks your lips up a little. You will yourself to look into his eyes, the same dazed look present in his.

"What happened?" You don't want to pester him about how he ended up like this, though your impulsivity tells you to. So you promise yourself that you'll only ask him this one time. Deep down, you felt as though you knew his answer would be vague, or he'd stay silent, so you prepared for it, to accept it and move on.

"Bar fight. This guy was pickin' on me. He started it," Billy replies after a moment, and he takes a deep breath. You feel his jaw clench slightly as your cleaning continues, but you still. He actually answered your question.

"Somethin' wrong?" He searches your eyes, your expressions are always pretty easy to read, but he doesn't have the full capacity to ponder right now.

"No," you tell him, taking a deep breath of your own before continuing. You're almost done, but you can't seem to take your eyes off of his. You've never had to tend to him like this before. You've thought about it, those times after hearing how he got a bloody nose or a nasty cut, but never did you think it would happen. Or that Billy would let you. Maybe he was softening up on you. Or maybe he doesn't care, he just needed help. You'll overthink it later before bed.

When you're done, you're about to stand when he grabs onto your wrist, turning his head slightly and you see the cut on his temple.

"Billy....shit," you say, moving to inspect the cut, holding his head in your hands and he feels his cheeks warm. He prays you don't notice.

You do. You rifle through your bag and sit with him, cleaning the cut the best you can before you attempt to stitch it. He winces, his hand jutting and grabbing your knee, making you both still.

"Sorry," he mumbles, retracting his hand and you shake your head.

"Squeeze it if you need to. 'M a strong girl." You get a slight, breathy chuckle out of him. It satisfies most of your nerves as his hand returns to your knee. You work again, stitching his cut and he sucks in a breath, "'s okay, you're doin' good, Billy."

His heart wants to twist and turn at the sound of your voice, so soft, so soothing. "Almost done, then you can go rest," you coo at him, his hand squeezing your knee tighter. He swallows hard, breathing through as you finish, giving him your smile.

He doesn't return it, but instead looks at you, piercing his gaze into your eyes without really meaning to. Your smile starts to drop a little at how intense his look is, your hands settling into your lap. Your mouth parts to speak, but you stop when he pats your knee.

"Thank you, darlin'," he breathes out, his gratitude different from the sarcasm he used earlier. His eyes almost looked teary in the moonlight but there was no way in hell you would mention it.

"Any time," you whisper, hesitantly putting your hand over his, patting the top of his hand. You've never felt this genuine with Billy and you longed for it to last. But you find yourself nervous, too anxious to move closer to him even though your body is aching for it. You swear that you see his eyes flit to your lips, but you determine it was your imagination. Your dreams getting in the way of reality.

Billy doesn't know how to handle himself either, but he knows that he likes his hand on your knee. That he likes your hand on his. Not that he'd say that.

When his head shifts in the slightest of movements, your senses kick back in and you take your hand away from his.

"You know, you're real dumb for gettin' in a fight while all alone? Or gettin' in a fight at all," you jab at him, resorting to your teasing to cover up the sensitivity of what occurred.

He rolls his eyes, but his stomach is fluttering from how quickly you jump to this side of yourself. "You're one to talk, sweetheart, didn't you fight that-"

"Don't turn this on me, Bonney, at least I walked away unscathed," you interrupt him and he turns more to face you.

"No, you didn't. You had that cut on your lip," he argues back, but a slight smile makes its way to his lips.

"No, I didn't." He was right, and you had forgotten in the moment that you did get hurt a little, but you didn't feel like giving in to him.

"Yes, you did, sweetheart. You were complainin' about it. For days," he counters, glancing down at his knuckles, before returning his gaze to you. To your lips. But only for a second.

The eye-roll and scoff you give him before you speak makes him smirk a little more, and he knows he won't be resting just yet.

[doyoulikethissong-poll]

Commonly asked questions

How do I submit songs? Submissions are currently closed. When it opens up again, I'll post a message here stating rules and which specific info I require. If you don't supply that info along with the song, your message will be deleted.

I submitted a song when we were allowed. When will it appear? :) There's waaay over two thousand songs in my askbox. 😅 And I'm very slow at posting submitted songs because it takes an oddly more amount of time and energy than you'd think, that's why it's easier for me to go with the songs I already have. Please have a bit more patience, hopefully it'll be posted soon enough! 💖

I don't like the genres posted recently. 🤷‍♀️ I mean, you can tell me what genres there's a lack of and I'll try put more effort into adding more of them.

I don't like the poll options. 🤷‍♀️

Will there be an "Indifferent" option? No. People bitched and very rudely demanded it when the blog was new and it left a very sour taste. Also we're 250+ songs in, it's kinda meh to add it now, but I definitely understand why you want it because some songs are really hard to define if you feel anything at all about them. (also you know people would just click indifferent to see the results instead of listening to the song lol) If I were to ever add more options, it would be love/hate.

How do I vote on a song if I feel indifferent about it? Indifferent = don't like it ig. 🤷‍♀️ Remember, I'm not asking you if you LOVE!!!!!! the song, or if you want to buy it. Liking can be as good as only a "meh, it's ok / decent enough to run in the background". Disliking can be being indifferent instead of outright hating it, when it's so neutral to you that it doesn't give you any positive feelings. It is only a minute long clip that I'm asking you to form an opinion about after all; you can change your mind either way when you hear the full version. Sometimes songs have to grow on you!

How do you pick the songs used in the polls? Mostly like this:

I have a huge mp3 hoarding archive so the submitted songs are easier for me to pick if they're already in my possession. 😅 Songs that aren't in my collection (tagged as #new to admin :D lol. sometimes i search out songs specifically for the poll that are tagged this as well) requires a bit more effort to download/listen to/edit but i have discovered a couple of great new gems so don't think i don't appreciate them!

How do I search for a specific artist/song that you've posted? All artists are tagged a day or so after the song reveal. Don't forget to use the hashtag symbol when searching or tumblr will give you all sorts of odd results!!!! (or none at all, lol) Please also remember that tumblr finds simple easy tasks extremely difficult, so only search for an artist with the easiest type of spelling, like #beyonce instead of #beyoncé. All artists and songs are added to the Complete Song List once their showdown poll is finished, for a quick search of what's been posted.

The audio quality is too poor for my taste!! 😡 sad </3

This is just for you. 💖

Why are all the songs of such vast variating quality? ....i mean, you didn't think I've bought all the tens of thousands of songs in my music library, did you...? Pirating songs gives you variations of quality, hell even my own cd rips have variations. It's easier to get better quality files now than it was back in the days, kiddos, so yeah some songs in the archives needs to be updated with new files. I have some very ancient mp3's that are in really low sound, that i've instead downloaded newer versions of in better quality for the polls but y'all still give me shit about it because the artist have remastered the track to unrecognition or whatever so there's just no pleasing some people i guess lmao. 😂

Do you like all the songs you've posted? No, lol. All the songs that are in my archive are songs I've at least liked enough once upon a time to save them, even if I'm not actively listening to them much anymore. Everything tagged as #new to admin :D are new songs to me that I may or may not like, regardless if they're submitted or if I've scouted them out myself only for the polls. :) Songs that I hate so much that I can't stand them are very few, and I won't waste time on adding them!

Did you change the song in the poll?? No. Maybe you clicked on the wrong one if I posted them too close together or maybe (most likely) tumblr has screwed something up for you. Some songs don't even show at times because it's tumblr being tumblr, just wait it out for a few minutes and tumblr will eventually remember to play the audio. So far there's only one song that I had to re-upload because tumblr killed the file. I can change the clip to better audio or to another part of the same song, but I never replace it to a different one once it's out there for you to vote on, I don't see the point of doing that.

Why are some polls audio files and other video files? Again: tumblr being tumblr. They won't allow some songs to be uploaded as audio, but using them in videos is ok. I hate the audio-as-video format and it requires even more effort from me so I'm not doing it on purpose. :)

I don't remember if I've heard this song before or not. If you know you've heard it, like if you're a fan or a hater or the song has been constantly played on the radio, you know it. (this is why the phrasing has been changed again in the latest polls) If you don't remember it, or just vaguely, or just a specific tiny part used in a meme/tiktok video, choose first time. The only thing that matters is the yes or no, knowing it or not is just an added fun but don't take it too seriously. :) Look at it sort of like "old fan/casual listener/hater vs new listener".

The part of the song that you posted SUCKS!!!! You should have just posted this one specific famous part for people to vote yes! "don't post the actual song in this song poll" ...................................like, no. not gonna post just the meme-bits or the drops or the whatever. Yeah i saw all the comments how you all clicked dislike on "Out of Touch" because you voted before you got to the chorus 😂 That's an honest opinion about the song lol, because a song is more than just a catchy chorus or a big drop. But yeah, sometimes one verse of a song would've maybe been better to post instead of that other verse, I'm with you on that.

I queued this song to see what it is but it's still stated as being Anonymous for me! Reblogs, drafts and queues will only show you what's there at the time, like a screenshot. It won't update automatically. All your reblogs, drafts and queued posts from when the poll is active will only show up as Anonymous songs. Always go back to the original post to see the song reveal. If the info isn't there, then give me a day or two to update the post because most likely things are too busy irl. 💖

I voted wrong/voted before I recognized the song! Will you change my vote? No, I'm not recounting anything wth. 😅

I'm embarrassed. I like the song but I don't want others to know that I do. I promise you that nobody but you can see how you've voted. Not me or your mutuals. Only you see what you've voted on. It's ok to like bad songs, and it's ok to like good songs by bad people. Don't let others shame you for that.

How do I vote on this cover/remix that was posted instead of the original? If you feel like this version is close to the original that you like, vote yes. If you don't feel like this version does the original song justice, vote no, even if it hurts.

This song that I don't know samples another song that I do know. How do I vote? I don't consider samples being used as being the same song, so pick first time. Unlike covers/remixes, the original song that has been sampled might show up at a later time, if it hasn't already been on here before.

How does so many people not know this song!!? Everyone is not your age/not from your country and your experience is not universal. 🤷‍♀️ That being said, I too get wtf-moments sometimes because some songs really do get wacky results, so, yeah 😂

Have you ever thought about-- Yes.

I demand you give me a rickroll!!!!!! Ask things nicely instead of demanding things from me. (This is the most common demand I've gotten, sigh. Thanks to those of you who have at least asked nicely and/or with a sense of humour!)

Please do a rickroll? It's already been posted in a bonus poll. It might show up in a "real" poll in years from now if this poll blog is still active but as of now it was added to a tumblr meme post where it was better suited.

I'm gonna ignore that submissions are closed and send you song suggestions anyway!!!! They will be deleted because they're not asked for atm. Unless you're the artist. Exceptions can be made in that case. :)

This poll blog doesn't respect my requirement to know who the artists are before I listen to their songs because of my need - that is very important that everyone else needs to acknowledge and follow - to know if a person is of a good moral standing according to my own views!! 😡 There's other poll blogs better suited for you. Not everything online has to be adjusted to fit *your* particular needs. 🤷‍♀️ (YES i've actually gotten this demand way too often. Sigh.)

Why was my reblog hidden from the notes where I spew hatred over an artist?! You are censoring me!!!! Did you mention the artist by name, or other obvious spoilers? Don't post spoilers. 🤷‍♀️

You hid this other comment I made with no spoilers!!!!! Sometimes comments show in dashboard mode but not in app mode and vice versa, or not even in the notifications. Haven't we already established that tumblr finds easy stuff extremely difficult? Also, sometimes you and I don't share an opinion of what a spoiler means. To all of you who have claimed an artist's name isn't a spoiler, yeah it's kind of a big one. As for the artist mentioning their own name or the song title in the song, you only hear that once you listen to the clip. Knowing it before even clicking to play the music is a spoiler.

Why have you turned off replies? I want to say things without reblogging!! I mean 🤷‍♀️ I'm sure you know why. Replies and anons have been turned off from the very beginning. The few times replies actually have been turned on, it's been stated as such and been very temporarily, like when we've discussed music in some post.

Turn on anon!!! I'm to shy to say thing off-anon! I mostly reply to things privately, or this blog would be nothing but q&a. Anons are off for a reason. Abuse and death threats are to be associated with the sender's account for all to see. I'm always nice to nice people so there's no need to worry about sending me questions or tagging me in things. :) 💖

I demand you to-- Pay me. :)

Shut up and take the abuse thrown at you personally because you're just a poll blog! You are aware that the poll blogs on tumblr aren't actually run by bots, right? Don't be an obnoxious twat. (and ughh yes, this too has been said to me several times. Sigh.)

I want you to add this song I want RIGHT NOW and/or i WANT these other options added now! Rich people can always break all the rules, just like irl. Just give me the $$$$ 😘

I don't like this song because I don't understand the language. Please only post English songs. Ok well, I mean, you can always learn other languages. 🤷‍♀️ Just like how I learned English.

If anyone feels targeted by these last questions without me meaning to, I'm sorry. These actually are the most common questions and comments and demands I've gotten in my askbox. Especially when the blog was new and people Demanded Their Rights to have me adjust everything to suit them. Don't feel like you can't state your thoughts in reblogs or in messages because as long as you're not being rude to me, my attitude on some answers isn't targeted at you, only at them. 💖 Remember to just have fun with the polls and hopefully you and/or your mutuals discover new music!

[mothsparksghost]

"He Taught Me That the Hand That Feeds Deserves to be Bitten When it Beats"

-The Hand That Feeds By The Crane Wives

Alternatively!

Corporate Greed Strikes Again

TWs: Corporate Greed, Kidnapping, Human Experimentation, Torture, Violence, Blood, starvation

Danny was running away, it was getting to dangerous in Amity for him to stay. There were new rogues every other day getting more and more powerful as they popped up. The GIW had gotten even more competent in their weapons making, but not in their situational awareness. Just the last week, he had gotten shot at least seven times keeping civilians safe.

For the safety of everyone in Amity, it was bet for him to leave.

For good.

So he packed a bag, made sure there were no current loose ghost, made sure no one was inside Fenton Works, and then promptly blew up the portal with a modified ghost shield to keep the damage to a minimum. Unlike others, he was well aware of where people were and how the could be killed.

So now that everyone thought him dead, he ran. To where? He didn't know. But he needed a pit stop somewhere to get some food. Danny landed on the roof of a building reaching for a map he had stored somewhere in his bag. Shuffling things around he couldn't seem to find it.

"Damn, must've dropped it," Danny muttered. Turning, he only got a second to look at the blur coming for him, but then Danny only knew darkness.

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

Danny runs away when theres more and more causalities in Amity. He blew up Fenton Works while inside to make it seem like he died, and to those that did know about Phantom, dead dead.

He makes pit stops, and at one point accidentally cuts himself as Phantom and leaves not knowing there was ecto left behind.

A scientist about to get fired from some big corp trying to get green/clean energy stumbles upon it, and thinks its his big break.

Soon he had the entire company board on board with his idea, no matter that it could be breaking meta laws and could get them all life in prison.

The hunt for the unsuspecting meta, one Danny Phantom, was on.

And then when the bounty hunters, somehow getting their hands on ecto weapons (Maybe the GIW donated them? Maybe they had commissioned them from the Fentons? who knows) get a ping of his location? They sent their best hunter and got poor Danny.

Danny soon wakes up and realizes that "Oh no, where am I?!"

He soon learns that is the least of his worries.

Danny is then tortured, and the people soon realize he has a human side, so they quickly modify the ghost chains to make sure he stays a ghost.

He then Bites a guard and is then muzzled.

The Big Corp soon starts draining him of his ecto while trying to figure out how his body produces it

After all, he who controls the supply controls the market

So while Danny can't turn back into a human, in a low ecto rich environment, and constantly being drained of what fuels his ghostly body, he begins to feel the effects of starvation, because "Ghost are dead, they don't need human shit." and quote.

Well Danny was a special lil halfa and needed food in order to fucking survive

Soon, his hazmat suit starts to become baggy, not fitting anymore and it slowly progress until his eyes start to become clear, becoming the pure ecto green of his flesh in blindness, his bodies way of trying to conserve enough energy until he can get out.

The scientist, seeing the green eyes immediately rip one out, wanting to see if his eyes had a more concentrated ecto that they could use. They quickly learn, no, its clear and has little to no ecto.

Danny's voice has stopped working a long time ago at this point.

The Bats then notice a once failing Clean energy company suddenly thrive.

They investigate and are disturbed to realize that they are using a purified Lazarus water as the main fuel.

They then hunt down the source building and sneak into it, trying to find the source

Bruce is then distracted, going down a heavily guarded hallway unnoticed.

He opens what could only be a vault door, then peering through a black netting with a green sheen, he see's Danny.

What happens after that? Idk but if someone wants to pick up they can :D

———————

Tbh its been a hot min since ive actually drawn smth so im a lil out of practice lol.

Anyways i wanna thank the besties (gender neutral) in the Batphantom Club House discord for giving me songs to put on the list 🤗

I needed smth to make the brain worms go brr and so im making my way through the list.

The songs on the list help me catch a prompt for a drawing, and, well a prompt lmao, whether its the lyrics or the rhythm or overall vibes lol.

[bigskydreaming]

The Vampire Daniel Molloy, when Louis asks what he's looking forward to most about the next stage of his newly immortal life:

Hmm. With how much my maker already complains about me ruining his life and how every day I give him a new reason to regret ever siring me, if I had to pick just one thing, I'd say the thing I'm most looking forward to is when I hit vampire puberty.

Louis: ....

Daniel: Vampire puberty's when the really wild superpowers kick in, right?

Louis: I suppose technically that's not....inaccurate.

Daniel: Hey, what are the chances of me getting the 'set shit on fire with my brain' thing you've got? Can you even imagine how much that would piss him off? His disappointment of a fledgling having the same gifts as the ex who dumped his ass....oh, man. C'mon now. I bet I could do some real damage with that.

Louis: Actually, while we're near the subject: would you please stop introducing yourself as 'the reason your vampire parents got divorced?'

Daniel: No, Louis, Louis! You're not getting it, see....the thing that makes it funny is its true.

Louis: You've really decided to lean into the whole 'second childhood' angle, huh.

Daniel: Mmmm. And just think. If you'd turned me fifty years ago when I first asked, I'd be well past this stage by now. And also still twenty. And hot.

Louis: Ahh. Its like that, then, is it.

Daniel: Oh, only a little bit. Really though, its like, every day I discover a new way to make Armand rue my very existence all over again, and maybe I'm just a simple man with simple needs, because that's just....very fun for me. I mean, there's just something extra validating in knowing the guy you're all "fuck that guy, I hate him, he sucks" about hates you waaaay more than you can be bothered to hate him. Because then its like you win the feud, right? You still get to hate that guy, which is great, because fuck that guy, he sucks, but you also get to know your very existence drives him way crazier than his ever makes you, and I mean, let's be real. Who doesn't like winning things?

Louis: Well I'm so glad you've found something that gives you a sense of purpose at least. Its very -

Daniel: Yeah, yeah, immortal blood drinkers need hobbies other than mass murder, it keeps the body count low and is good for the environment. Relax. I know. I literally wrote the book on it. You were there.

Louis: That's what you got out of it?

Daniel: Why, did you want me to fixate on your sex scenes instead? That seems weird. A little narcissistic even. And at the risk of self-awareness, when I'm the one -

Louis: Right. Well. I just wanted to make sure you had something to focus your energies on. It can all be a bit overwhelming at first and with your level of public attention at the moment, its very crit -

Daniel: Nope, all good here. Got myself a steady supply of Deadbeat Dad jokes that make my maker's eye twitch - apparently base word play is "gauche" or some shit - ugh, my god, its like nothing I do is ever good enough for him, and I only ate one of the editors on my shitlist to test drive my shiny new murder skills. He had this thing about Oxford commas, used to bug the crap out of me. Its like we get it, you hate them. They're literally dots on a page, they can't hurt you, can we please move on....

Louis: ....

Daniel: Louis, I'm kidding. Look, you don't have to worry about me. I already decided I find emotional evisceration way more satisfying than the physical version. Less clean up and it lasts longer anyway. I'm not going to get myself into trouble by cosplaying as Jack the Ripper where paparazzi can catch me red-fanged, and even if I do, I hereby absolve you of all responsibility. You can stop mother-henning me, you didn't turn me, you literally said no when I begged you to, its the whole reason I have eternal wrinkles instead of youthful tautness.

Louis: Not gonna let that one go, are you.

Daniel: Gimme a few centuries and ask me again. I'll let you know then.

Louis: Mmhmm. So this was....memorable and we definitely won't be doing it again. But you do seem to have things figured out so I'll leave you to it, then.

Daniel: Wait, Louis, don't go! Don't you want to hear my five-century life plan for annoying Armand into an early retirement mausoleum? I made visual aids!

Louis: Goodbye, Daniel.

Daniel: Fine, leave then! I don't care! You're not my real dad anyway! Et cetera, et cetera!

[senkusphone]

Dr. Stone chapter 1D Trivia post

Spoilers ahead

We knew there was a slippery slope but we didn't know which one it was.

First things first, as we saw, Kaseki was not dead after all, and neither was Francois.

This clears things from chapter 232.5 (Dr. Stone Terraforming) where Kaseki was not shown at all, and although Francois was shown to be at the plane at the moment of the crash, they were never shown to be rescued.

We do get a glimpse at Senku throughout his lifetime (hypothetically at least). The pictured time machine, just like the large one they are building, features the telltale disk from the movie "The time machine" (duh) from 1960, based on a novel by H.G. Wells, written in 1895.

We also see him using a bunch of yagi antennas again, as well as a small satellite dish, all pointed in different directions in his homebrew setup, perhaps in an attempt to catch the signal regardless of which direction it's coming from. A concern I've heard is why would Byakuya contact Senku's future attempt but not the one from his childhood, and the answer likely boils down to the technology. As Xeno said they used a specialized detector to spot tiny bursts of petrification beam

I am not sure what such a detector might entail, but since the petri beam involves a flash of light, perhaps something like a photomultiplier tube could do it, as they can detect individual photons

The Tokyo Sky Tree is a radio tower, housing a restaurant and an observation deck, it is also the tallest manmade structure in Japan with a height of 634 meters, or 532.7 times the canon height of Suika in chapter 178.

Here it looks like they've drawn the wrong design for the medusa capsule, this one has a speaker on the inside like the original that was sent to the moon, whereas once whyman was discovered, they changed the design to one with a small antenna in its place, and a speaker/microphone on the outside for them to communicate.

This is what I feel like in university

Yes we are

next up, energy

1.21 Exawatts has no basis I know of other than being a reference to the 1.21 Gigawatts used by the time machine from Back to the Future. 1 exawatt = 1000000000 gigawatts, so I guess Dr. Brown's machine was actually very fuel efficient.

The (exa)watt is technically not a unit of energy but rather of the rate of energy transfer (or how fast energy's being delivered in layman's terms).

I assume he means (exa) watt-hours, a multiple of the watt-hour, which is an energy unit handy for working with electricity calculations. This amount of energy is equivalent to a bit shy of 900000 megatons of TNT. However, if you could capture 100% of the sun's output (and I mean all of it, a la dyson sphere, not just what hits the earth, and with 100% efficiency) and store it, you could collect that amount of energy in just under 30 seconds. This amount is also probably larger than the consumption of humanity over the last 60 years. It is in fact larger than the energy consumed wordwide between 1800 and 2010 by a factor of about two, going from adding and converting the data here.

https://www.encyclopedie-energie.org/en/world-energy-consumption-1800-2000-results/

Helium 3 is an isotope of helium with a nucleus made of 2 protons and 1 neutron (unlike normal helium which consists of 2 and 2 of each).

Because it's a very light gas, it tends to float away from the earth and get swept off into space much like regular helium does, and it is believed that larger amounts of it will be available on the moon, where it is formed naturally in a slow but steady supply when natural lithium is bombarded with neutrons from cosmic rays. Helium 3 can theoretically function as fuel in a fusion reactor, having the advantage that it does not release neutrons in the reaction, meaning it does not bombard other materials inside the reactor making them radioactive (and He-3 is not radioactive itself either).

The big issues are its low availability and the fact that a reactor for this fuel would need even higher temperatures than the reactors we are experimenting with today, and we are barely starting. On that note, Tsukasa eating chip

These robots are very strange, they walk on their claws, only having wheels at the back and carrying what looks a lot like an old time minecart. If anyone knows what the name Johnny 7 might be referring to, let me know. So far I can see that there was a sentient robot named Johnny 5 in the 1986 film Short Circuit, which looked like this.

I could also note that the robots have "Battery A" and "Battery B" noted on them.

It might just be a coincidence, but I like to think it might be a nod to an early project in the series, the cellphone.

The cellphone had two battery packs, the lead acid pack to run the vacuum tube filament, and Gen's manganese battery pack, which ran the tube anode. Historically these two battery packs were designated "A" and "B".

For the record this is also the reason you can buy AAA, AA, C, and D size cells, but no B batteries. Those batteries used to exist, but they don't anymore, since the equipment they powered is long obsolete. Next up, Chrome has a flashback to Ruri's flashback.

Kirisame's headpiece has reverted to the seldom seen spiral horn version, she is most typically seen with the one shaped like cat ears.

Next up:

No, I will not apologise

This does not seem to be the same restaurant mentioned in chapter 43, though I guess it could have changed, since Senku seems older (might it be the restaurant in the sky tree?)

Also Senku puts on Byakuya's coat that was on the back of his chair.

Speaking of chapter 43...

Ukyo is not well

It's no longer Nanami Corp, it's just Ryusui

To conclude, my take on what is happening

It's been hinted multiple times that we may see the involvement of alternate timelines, which comes as an answer to the occurence of a paradox if Senku were to travel back in time or even just contact himself. The title of the chapter comes to echo this. Higher dimensions have been a bit of a popular topic lately with people making games in four dimensions, etcetera. This however is not that by the looks of it, the fourth dimension mentioned would be an additional time dimension, which can be interpreted as the existence of convergent or divergent timelines. One of the less obvious things that remain to be seen is how Byakuya (or someone pretending to be him) knew when and where to contact someone in a different timeline. We also don't know where in time they are located. It is assumed at first that the incoming message is from the future but if we are dealing with a parallel universe it may as well be coming from the past or even be coming in in "real time" (as if such concepts of relative time held up in multidimensional time).

Suika cute pose

[pizza-writes]

Worried

A Bad Batch one shot

Summary: When y/n is injured, they try to hide the severity of it, causing the boys to panic when it’s worse than they realized.

Pairings: None. Implied attraction to Hunter because, well, he’s hot.

Warnings: SFW. Broken bone, nausea, passing out. Doctor Tech. Comforting Wrecker. Also Guilty Wrecker. Comforting Hunter. Sassy Crosshair. Concerned Hunter. You know—the necessities of a hurt/comfort oneshot.

Word count: 2.5k

Disclaimer: this was originally posted on my other account @thereforepizza

if there’s anything else y’all see that needs tagged, please lmk and I’ll gladly tag it here !

Consciousness stirred you awake with a hesitant hand. You groaned, setting both feet on the floor and rubbing your eyes. If there were ever a day you wished you might forget, yesterday was it, yet the memory came back to you in an instant. The darkness. A shuttering breath. One mistake after another.

You made your body move, though each sore, aching muscle protested. With an effort, you got to your feet. Your right leg gave out. Cool, metal floor boards slapped your hands. Your lips loosed a whimper. Shaky, you got up, and a hand found the far wall for balance.

You caught your breath, wincing.

The next attempt to stand on two feet left you grimacing, acid rising from your stomach. This nausea plagued you from the moment of your injury. When you had risen from your place under the stones, you had instantly lost the contents of your stomach. This struck the entire squad by surprise because you possessed a stomach of steel. They brought you back to the ship and you passed out the moment your head hit the pillow of the lowest bunk. It wasn't your bunk, you realized, but nobody cared. The last thing you remembered was seeing the look of concern in Tech's eyes your focus waned. Looking back, it takes a lot to get Tech frazzled, so something must have been wrong.

Something was very wrong.

As your mind raced, your heart begged to be with the batchers. Something in your soul could sense that you needed to get their attention. If not that, then at least be near them. Tech could fix you. Hunter could comfort your fears. Wrecker could distract you. Crosshair… well, he might not appear to care, but you knew he’d want to do something.

You tried to stand again without being as gentle. Perhaps the mundane ache would be drowned out if you experienced something sharp and quick. You pushed against the wall and tears blinded you. You found your footing. Caught your breath. Fighting the urge to cry out, you limped through the cabin of the Marauder.

Every step made you sicker. Your fists balled at your sides. The pain was masked by numbness and an ache that crept clear to your shoulders as you moved. Perhaps your reaction was dramatized… Pride donned the poker face you plastered on as you sauntered into the cockpit. A last second call said they didn't need to see you wimping out on them.

"That's precisely my interpretation of the data, Hunter. We will deplete our stock of supplies in..." Tech trailed off, squinting at your newly arrived form. You nodded a greeting and found a seat, uncomfortably aware of the four sets of eyes on you.

"Go on,"

Tech adjusted his goggles. “You should be resting.”

"I'm not wasting that much energy, am I?"

He frowned at you, then at his beloved data pad. "We will deplete our supplies in two weeks. It is time we return to Kamino to regroup and restock any items that are low in our inventory."

"How long has it been?" Hunter glanced at you.

"According to each solar—"

"A long time," you hummed. You leaned forward on your elbows in an attempt to distract your mind. "I estimate two and a half months."

Tech paused, gears grinding. “You are almost correct. Two months and nineteen days. How'd you know that?"

A shrug and tilt of your head. “Good internal clock."

"My internal clock says we've been gone for forever!" Wrecker leaned back in his chair and you swore you heard it creak. "I almost lost track a how many successful missions we've done. Don’t you worry, though. It’s twenty-nine.”

Your hand slipped to a fresh bruise on your forearm.

“If it hadn’t been for someone’s recklessness, we would have had thirty.”

Wrecker’s voice sounded strained. “Shut up, Crosshair. It was an accident!”

You stood atop a hut raining hell on the droids around you. The mission’s end was in sight. The town’s liberation close at hand.

“Sure.” Crosshair’s voice turned cool. “But accidents happen when you’re too reckless.”

Boom

Hunter hushed them. “That’s enough, Cross. Arguing about it won’t change what happened.”

Misfire from a destroyed cannon did its job. The surface dissolved under you. Your fall was brief. Wrecker lifted a wall from you only minutes later. When you stood, the world danced, and not in a pleasant way. You threatened to shoot Tech when he tried to look over you for injuries. You pushed away Wrecker’s attempts at apology—claiming he had nothing to do with it even if he was the catalyst. On your way back to the shuttle your mind replayed a single, wistful phrase: ‘I’m not hurt.’

"How you holding up?"

You looked at Hunter. His eyes bored into yours. The question was aimed at you.

He let out a deep breath. “Thought we’d lost you there for a minute."

Your frown traveled to take in each of the batchers. They shared the same expression: concern. It sent you curling up into your seat.

“I was thinking.”

"I do not wish to alarm you…” Tech hesitated and looked at Hunter.

"You look sick. Your face is pale." Crosshair leaned forward. His serious tone made your heart drop.

Wrecker sat up. “You good, y/n?”

Your trademark tough shell shifted. "Wh—what?"

"Are you okay?" Hunter got up and closed the distance between you. "Be honest. Are you hurt?"

"I'm fine, Sarge.”

The look in his eye spoke enough for you to admit defeat. Of course he would know. He could probably smell the blood.

"I believe it is necessary to examine you further.” Tech’s message was stately. You stood no chance arguing. "Crosshair, please take the controls.”

An extended hand grounded your scattered mind. You glanced up at Hunter. "Where we going?"

"To the back. Tech wants to check you."

"I uh… I heard that.” You hopped to your feet and everything went black.

You drew a sharp breath. The bunk above you shadowed your eyes. Head foggy, you took in the room. Hunter leaned against the wall, arms folded, scowl engrained in the skull adorning his face. Unmoving, he studied the floor.

You motioned to move and Hunter whispered. "Stay there, y/n."

He passed over to the bunk and pushed your feet back to the middle of the bunk before your mind caught up. The wealthy of Coruscant were more in tune with their surroundings than you. You bid your eyes close, and sleep greeted you again with far softer arms.

You awoke to the sound of two distant voices.

"She will need more rest, but we cannot wait to set it."

"Do you know how to do that?"

A beat. "I have read extensively on the topic. I have never needed to preform the operation, but I believe my knowledge is sufficient."

"Then do it. I reckon you'll need more local anesthetics?"

"No need. The supplies from this med-kit will work."

A sigh. Hunter’s voice softened. “Please don't get this wrong, Tech."

"They will be okay. Don't worry."

His gentle hand pushed your shoulder and you drew a breath, slowly coming from a sleep you didn’t know you’d fallen into. A frown mushed your face.

"Good morning, y/n.” Hunter hummed with a smile in his voice.

Your lips failed to formulate an intelligent reply, so you mumbled your similar return.

"Since we don’t have the right equipment, we need you to be awake so we can test these pain killers. Once we're sure they work, you can relax."

You nodded. "What is it?"

"You broke your... Tech, which bone is it?"

"The Tibia,"

"You broke your Tibia. Shin bone. We need to reset the bone so it doesn’t fuse wrong on the way back to Kamino."

"Do you feel this, y/n?"

A moment of confusion was followed by your looking down at Tech. He pressed on your exposed shin with a couple gloved fingers. The pressure didn't cause any reaction, but the sight of your wounded leg did. Fascinated, you wanted to touch it.

"No, no—lay back down." Hunter pushed you back onto the bed.

"Do you feel this?" You frowned down at Tech, wondering why he'd repeat his question when it struck you. His hand rested on another part of your leg. Satisfied, he turned to his datapad.

"I don't feel any of that. Is that bad?"

"Quite the opposite."

You caught Hunter’s shoulders relax. He turned to you and you met his eyes without a sound. A reassuring smile crossed his lips and you caught yourself thinking about just how handsome this man was. It took a moment to pull you back. Then you heard what he was saying to you.

"You can relax. We'll take it from here."

He didn't have to tell you twice. You were already embracing the darkness. A long time passed, you couldn't be sure how long. When you finally came to, you found yourself drifting away again. This became common until one time, you were able to hold onto a relative instance of consciousness. The dim room shifted as you sat up and scooted to lean your back against the wall.

This was not the Marauder.

Slow eyes scanned the disastrous room, hesitating on the fresh tally marks carved into the wall. They moved to the droid head on a table in the center of the space where Tech and Hunter sat. Eventually your gaze drifted to the pile of dirty blacks and then to the window that was pelted with large raindrops. You hadn't been on Kamino in a long time.

"Glad to see you awake.” Hunter greeted you, setting aside the armor he had been polishing.

"It hasn't been two weeks already, has it?" You noted that Crosshair and Wrecker were gone. "Tech said two weeks."

"It's been three days actually," he moved to lean over your... his bed. Resting his arm on the wall above the rather large alcove, he looked down at you. From there he went into the lame-man’s explanation of your surgery. It wouldn’t take long to heal, so the squad would head out in a few short rotations.

"The operation would have gone better if you were transparent about the extent of your injury." Tech had both elbows resting on the table and he looked up from the data pad in hand. He paused, eyes darting to the side. "On a… similar note: I should have recognized the symptoms immediately. Nausea and fatigue following a traumatic event are trademark symptoms of serious injury. I assumed that you were exhausted from the mission or perhaps angry at Wrecker. Had I been more thorough..."

"Hey.” You waited until his eyes met yours. "Don't blame anyone. We’re not gonna start that. I’m not upset at you for anything because it was out of your control. You were respecting my wishes to be left alone.”

A heavy sigh left his lips and he bobbed his head in agreement. "My apologies. When you fell in that building I knew it had to be worse than you let on."

Hunter frowned. "None of us realized how bad it was till you passed out in the cockpit."

Your chest grew heavy. "I'm sorry. I should've been more forthright."

"We forgive you. I want you to know that we care, y/n." You found Hunter's dark eyes. "Please tell us next time if you need help."

A beat followed before you nodded. "I will."

A minute later, the door hissed open and in came Wrecker shoving Crosshair. The sniper punched him in the gut and Wrecker grunted, swinging again. Cross dodged it easily. Hunter coughed pointedly. They both paused, staring your way. An enormous smile struck Wrecker and he clamored over to you like a little kid. Your entire body was buried in huge arms.

"How are you doing, y/n?" He held you at arms length and looked at you, brows stitched together. "I was worried sick!"

"I'm doing good, Wreck. I am pretty tired though." You stole a glance at Crosshair who stood near the door toothing a toothpick. "Apparently I have a good poker face.“

The sniper huffed, the corner of his mouth twitching into a small smile. You turned back to the large man who moved next to Hunter. His arms crossed and you caught a look come over him. His shoulders were a little more slouched than normal and after his initial reaction to seeing you, his brows furrowed at the ground.

“It’s come to my attention that there’s a bit of guilt going around you boys,” you said, trying not to directly aim your words at any of them. “But I want you to know that fretting over the past won’t make anything change. It won’t fix me. You know what will? Good vibes and a decent breakfast.”

Hunter smiled at them. “What do you say, boys? One of you wanna grab ‘em some grub?”

Wrecker whooped in approval and the others followed him to the door while Hunter stayed behind. He sat on the edge of the bed.

"You not going to eat?"

He shook his head. "I ate before they got up."

You hummed.

Steady raindrops filled the silence that ensued. The empty look in Hunter's eyes drew your observance. He stared at nothing, all the while looking at the galaxy. Those were the eyes of a burdened leader. You wondered if he knew he did this from time to time.

"Are you okay?"

The light reignited in his eyes and he turned his focus to you. "I will be,"

"Oh?" You raised an eyebrow. “What's up?"

He hesitated, eyeing the floor. "Just... when you passed out? I haven't lost any of my brothers in this squad. For a second, I thought I was going to lose you. I've never really let myself think about that before."

The expression on his face when you had woken a few days ago spoke a novel when paired with those words. Every mission that went well grew confidence in the boys. You saw this consistently. That confidence probably shattered the moment they realized one of them could get hurt. Did all of them feel the same fear?

That image made your heart race. You imagined their reaction when you failed to hide your pain. The thought of their worry plagued you. It was... mortifying.

"But you made it," he whispered. “And you're alright."

"I am,"

It took half an hour for the others to return. When they did, you found yourself watching them in a new light. Truly, these boys were different. You knew you'd be in good hands while you recovered from this inconvenient injury. The best part was that you'd have four... well, three really caring clones to keep your spirits up as you did so.

//~//~//

Thanks for reading!

Please reblog and comment to show support! At the end of these one shots I like to have a question to boost interactions—feel free to respond!

Q. Have you ever broken a bone? If so, would you be interested in sharing the story?

A. Nope! I've been close a time or two, but I have yet to break any bones

Masterlist

[canmom]

a few critical comments on "The Busy Worker's Handbook to the Apocalypse"

so i read this one very doomer medium article The Busy Worker's Handbook to the Apocalypse the other day, which attempts to argue that with the amount of GHGs already in the atmosphere, collapse of human society is inevitable and imminent, in a way that the scientific establishment such as the IPCC is instutionally unable to admit. I will warn, if you're prone to anxiety, don't read it, because the article is bleak as hell and quite effective rhetoric. it opens with a largely correct overview of climate science which lends it credibility, before jumping to the worst imaginable conclusions about various feedbacks and tipping points.

and like... it got me a bit. immediately after I read it, I was left with a horrifying feeling that this is as good as it will ever get, that the end of it all was only years away, that all my hopes for what I'd do for the next few decades and what is prefigured by this or that social development were utter delusions, and all there was left to do was just try and make the best of the last few years before we all die in the big cascading-failure famine.

but... ok Bryn, hold your fucking horses, let's do some research eh?

to begin with, I found one critique video that points out a number of places where the author makes scientific errors, misunderstands his sources, or doesn't justify his conclusions. for example, the author argues that a 'blue sea event' where the polar ice melts would lead to immediate, catastrophic warming as the latent heat of fusion no longer absorbs any incoming radiation, and also that the success of measures to reduce air pollution will accelerate warming; these seem to both be straight up wrong. but that doesn't cover everything I had questions about.

for example, one scenario discussed in the 'handbook' is 'multi breadbasket failure'. the idea is that, given that most of the world's food is produced in a few specific regions, this is a scenario where two or more of the major food-producing regions suffer very low yields in the same year due to climate shit. and this isn't farfetched, there is mainstream scientific discussion of this concept. for an accessible analysis, I found this article by some major capitalist consulting company (assess bias accordingly) which gives some actual numbers, including estimates of which crops are more likely to fail as the climate changes (rice, corn and soy are in trouble, but wheat, oddly enough, could actually do better in a warmer world).

however, while the author of the guide to the apocalypse suggests that, thanks to 'just in time' supply chains, there are almost no reserves of food and everything is on ships... the mckinsey article quotes a figure of 30% 'stock-to-use ratio', meaning there is a fair chunk of food in the granaries. they seem to predict that if two 'breadbaskets' fail in the same year, causing a 15% drop in yield, that ratio would drop to about 20%. the immediate result would be food price spikes (which means a lot of people would starve) but it's not a complete 'global megafamine' collapse.

'course, the question then is what happens if it happens again a few years later? but at least theoretically the 'multi breadbasket failure' scenario could be drastically mitigated by 1. producing food in more different places so the eggs are in fewer baskets 2. storing more food when times are good (something discussed in the mckinsey article) and 3. the world broadly eating less meat (since most crops are grown to feed animals, which adds a trophic level of inefficiency), so less grain is needed to feed everyone. i don't know if that's actually gonna happen, but it's not prima facie impossible.

on the other hand, the author of the Handbook argues that a world renewable energy transition is not just infeasible but physically impossible, because it demands reserves of metal that do not exist to roll out all the wires, turbines, etc etc. I was already fairly pessimistic about whether the renewable energy transition could happen in time (since there is little evidence that the current renewable deployment is making any sort of dent in GHG emissions, which remain resolutely coupled to economic activity); I was also conscious that the amount of mining to produce all the batteries and so on would have its own devastating impacts. but the argument that it is impossible even in principle is new to me.

so is that actually true? the Handbook bases this point entirely on the work of Dr Simon Michaux of the Finnish Geological Survey, who presents the calculation in this hour-long presentation based on this report (summary). this is honestly an excellent presentation, explaining the methodology really clearly - it reminds me of SEWTHA back in the day, a book I found very formative. And actually McKay also raised the question of materials:

To create 48 kWh per day of offshore wind per person in the UK would require 60 million tons of concrete and steel – one ton per person. Annual world steel production is about 1200 million tons, which is 0.2 tons per person in the world. During the second world war, American shipyards built 2751 Liberty ships, each containing 7000 tons of steel – that’s a total of 19 million tons of steel, or 0.1 tons per American. So the building of 60 million tons of wind turbines is not off the scale of achievability; but don’t kid yourself into thinking that it’s easy. Making this many windmills is as big a feat as building the Liberty ships.

McKay's analysis was based only on the UK; the figure of 48kWh/d comes from McKay's estimate of plausible maximum wind capacity for the UK only. He also takes into account some modest reductions in energy use. So my sense was that a completely renewable energy system would be an unprecedented megaproject, but not utterly implausible.

By comparison, Michaux's analysis (which I took a bunch of notes on, I'll post in a minute) has a worldwide scope, and rather than using back of the envelope physical calculations, relies on data on existing systems which largely did not exist when McKay was alive. It is nevertheless a rough estimate, and crucially, focuses on the question of completely replacing current fossil fuel use. Where good data did not exist, like the amount of steel and concrete used in a wind turbine, it was not included in the analysis, since the purpose was to get a lower bound.

The report covers a number of different minerals, many of which existing reserves fall short and it would take thousands of years to produce enough at current production levels. Copper is the big one: he estimates some 4.5 billion tones would be needed, where only 0.88 billion tonnes of reserved are publicly known to exist, and the rate of new discoveries has tailed off to near zero. I see no error in his calculation (though I haven't checked the numbers in detail, the method is sound).

However, there is a major caveat. The vast, vast majority of this copper would go to millions of battery banks used to provide just four weeks of storage to make it through the wind production lulls in the winter. This covers about 4.2 billion tonnes; by comparison the amount of copper used for one generation everything else (wind turbines, EV batteries etc.) is a still-hefty 0.3 billion tonnes. So that raises the question of whether there's an alternative to all those batteries, mature enough to be deployed at a scale to provide 0.55PWh of energy storage (or likely, more) in a decade or two. My understanding is most other tech (flywheels etc.) is still on the 'tiny pilot plant' sort of scale.

Anyway, as far as like the future of humanity goes, I already agree with Michaux's main point that maintaining current rates of energy consumption is just not viable; the future is necessarily going to be much lower energy. (I also don't really think 'decoupling' economic activity from energy use to somehow preserve capitalism's exponential curve is really plausible.)

However, the way the author of the Handbook uses Michaux's estimates is not supported. Michaux proved that a 1:1 replacement of fossil fuel energy consumption with renewables is not possible; that necessarily implies that (since fossil fuels are just starting to run dry and becoming less viable) we have to get by on less energy. And yeah, that obviously implies substantial changes to how people live in rich countries, crushing the super-rich etc.; it's fair to say the whole system must become less complex, in ecological terms.

I do still agree it's more than understandable to be pessimistic about whether that will happen without everything collapsing first - to put it mildly, there is a lot of inertia in a system this complex! - but it's not physically impossible that humans could accomplish a renewable energy transition, contract and rationalise how we use what energy we can get, and still have everyone live relatively comfortably. (After all, life on Earth has managed to live sustainably on solar power for billions of years, indefinitely recycling carbon, nitrogen etc. between high and low energy forms and dumping all the unusable high-entropy energy into space; I stand by the belief that there is no intrinsic reason that human society, even with complex technologies like computers, could not eventually assume a similar equilibrium if we survive. Though could does not mean is likely to....)

So I'm not convinced that we're a few years away from the first domino falling in the apocalypse. The situation is very very bad, don't get me wrong, I do basically agree the current socioeconomic world system is not capable of adapting fast enough as it stands, and I do find it increasingly hard to imagine the prospect of it being overturned, so I don't think the gigadeaths future is out of the question or even unlikely. But it's at least not the imminent near-certainty this essay makes out. If it comes, it will be more drawn-out than that. We don't need to live as if we will certainly die in a year or five.

So... now back to not thinking about it and fiddling while the world burns, I guess? :/

[mcrdvcks]

Down Bad - Chapter 5

Chapter Summary: After the events on Kamino, the squad lays low, completing small missions for Cid.

Word Count: 12.9k+

Pairing: Hunter x fem!Jedi Original Character

Notes: so this is a short (not really tho it's around 13k words) interlude between bad batch season 1 and 2. there are a few different short stories, pretty much all of them fluffy. but if you do not like sicknesses or illnesses (they are not described much, other than sneezing, coughing, and stuffy nose) i suggest you don't read the end of this. enjoy!

Series Masterlist - Chapter 4 → Chapter 6

AO3 Link For Chapter

Amina walked onto the Marauder, as Omega glanced up from her datapad. “Hey, Omega. Want to help me with something?” Amina shook the small box in her hand.

Omega got off the chair in the cockpit, “yeah! What do you need, General?”

Amina chucked, “well, I need to dye my hair again.”

Omega raised an eyebrow, “that’s not your natural hair?”

“Nope. My natural hair color is brown, but since most people know who I am, I died it to an auburn color. But the dye is fading so I thought I’d try a new color.” She shook the box again, “it’s black, so not a big difference, but anyways, do you wanna help me?”

Omega's eyes widened with excitement at the prospect of helping Amina dye her hair. "Sure, I'd love to help!" she exclaimed, her voice filled with enthusiasm as she practically bounced over to where Amina was standing. "I've never dyed anyone's hair before. This is gonna be fun!"

Amina chuckled at Omega's excitement, feeling a warmth spread through her chest at the younger girl's infectious energy. "Glad to have you on board," she said with a smile, holding out the box of black hair dye for Omega to inspect.

Omega eagerly took the box, examining it with intense curiosity as she read the instructions printed on the back. “Wait,” she looked up at Amina, “won’t Hunter get mad?”

Amina shrugged, “if we can get it done before the boys get back from getting our supplies, they’ll never know until they see the final results. We just have to be careful to not ruin the refresher.”

Omega grinned mischievously, her eyes twinkling with excitement. "Sounds like a plan! Let's get started."

The two of them made their way to the refresher, leaving their weapons in the cockpit. Once inside the small refresher, Amina spread an old towel over the floor to catch any drips, while Omega eagerly tore open the box of hair dye.

"So, how does this work?" Omega asked, peering at the instructions on the back of the box.

Amina took the box from her and quickly skimmed over the directions. "Looks like we just mix these two bottles together," she explained, holding up two small tubes of liquid. "Then we apply it to my hair, wait for a bit, and rinse it out. Simple enough."

Omega giggled, her excitement bubbling over as she eagerly grabbed the bottles of dye from Amina. “Alright, let’s do this!”

Working together, Amina and Omega mixed the two liquids according to the instructions on the box, creating the black hair dye. Omega carefully sectioned off Amina’s hair, using clips to keep it out of the way as they began the process of applying the dye.

“You have a lot of hair.” Omega said, starting to dye the lowest section of her hair.

“Yeah. I don’t think my hair has ever been this long. I kept it short because of the Jedi’s rules.”

Omega nodded, her brow furrowing slightly in concentration as she carefully applied the dye to Amina's hair. "What were the rules?" she asked, her curiosity piqued as she worked.

Amina chuckled softly, the memory of her Jedi training bringing a smile to her lips. "Well, there were a lot of rules," she admitted, her voice tinged with amusement. "But one of them was that Jedi weren't supposed to have attachments. Relationships, especially romantic ones, were discouraged."

Omega's eyes widened in surprise as she processed this information. "That sounds... kinda lonely," she remarked, her tone thoughtful as she continued to work on Amina's hair.

Amina nodded, a hint of sadness creeping into her expression. "It could be," she agreed quietly. "But it was also about avoiding the temptation of the dark side. Attachment can lead to fear, and fear can lead to anger, and... well…” Amina sighed, “they tried to keep me and Anakin apart, but it didn’t go well. They realized that we were stronger together, so they stopped trying to keep us separate. We didn’t see each other all the time when we were padawans, because we had different masters, but we saw each other when we were both at the Temple.”

Omega finished the first small section, “I guess I never realized how hard it was.”

Amina smiled, “it’s alright. It’s all over with now. All we can do is move forward.”

---

Hunter and the rest of the squad walked back onto the Marauder, finding it empty. The absence of Amina and Omega was immediately noticeable, and a sense of unease settled over the group as they exchanged worried glances.

"Where are they?" Wrecker asked, his brow furrowed with concern as he scanned the interior of the ship.

"I don't know," Hunter replied, his voice tinged with worry. "They were here when we left to get supplies."

Tech looked in the cockpit, “Omega left her crossbow and Amina left her lightsaber. So, either they went somewhere close by, or are still on the ship.”

"They wouldn't have just left without telling us," Echo remarked, his voice laced with concern as he scanned the interior of the ship.

"No, they wouldn't," Hunter agreed, his brow furrowing with worry. "Which means something must have happened."

Wrecker's eyes widened with alarm as he glanced around the empty hangar. "What if they've been captured?" he suggested, his voice filled with dread at the thought of his friends being in danger.

Hunter's jaw clenched with determination as he considered Wrecker's suggestion. "We need to find them," he declared, his voice firm as he turned to face the rest of the squad. "Tech, see if you can track their comms. Echo, check the surrounding area. Wrecker, with- ”

They heard muffled laughing coming from down the hall as Hunter walked over, with his helmet under his arm. He stopped in front of the refresher’s door and knocked hearing Amina let out a muffled curse.

Hunter's brow furrowed with concern as he heard Amina's muffled curse from behind the closed door of the refresher. Without hesitation, he knocked again, this time with a sense of urgency in his rap on the metal surface.

"Amina? Omega?" he called out, his voice tense with worry as he waited for a response. He heard another round of muffled laughter from within the refresher, followed by the sound of shuffling feet.

The door slid open slowly, revealing Amina and Omega standing side by side, both with guilty expressions on their faces. Part of Amina’s hair was covered in black dye, and there were splotches of the dark liquid on her forehead and cheeks, while Omega had streaks of dye on her hands and arms.

Hunter's eyes widened with surprise as he took in their appearances, a mixture of amusement and exasperation crossing his features. "What in the galaxy are you two doing?" he asked, his voice a mixture of amusement and concern.

Amina glanced sheepishly at Omega before meeting Hunter's gaze. "Uh, we were just... dyeing my hair," she admitted, her voice tinged with embarrassment as she gestured to her half of her head covered with dye, while the other half remained up in clips.

Wrecker came up behind Hunter, his brow furrowed in confusion as he held his blaster, but then he burst into laughter. "Dyeing your hair, huh?" he chuckled, his deep voice booming through the hallway of the Marauder. "You two had us worried sick! Hunter was about to send out a search party!”

Hunter glared at Wrecker before turning his gaze back to Amina and Omega. Amina’s face held a smirk, “I guess we are pretty important, aren’t we?” Amina said, holding her hand out for a high-five as Omega air high-fived her.

Hunter's glare softened slightly at Amina's smirk, unable to suppress the fondness that warmed his chest at her playful demeanor. He couldn't help but admire her resilience, her ability to find humor even in the midst of uncertainty and danger. As much as he tried to maintain a stern facade, he couldn't deny the affection he felt for the spirited young Jedi.

"Yeah, you two definitely keep us on our toes," Hunter replied with a chuckle, returning Amina's high-five with a gentle slap of his hand against hers. "But next time, maybe give us a heads up before you disappear. We were starting to worry."

Amina grinned, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she exchanged a glance with Omega. "Noted," she said, her voice filled with amusement. "We'll try to remember that for next time."

Omega nodded eagerly, her brown eyes shining with excitement. "Yeah, we promise!" she exclaimed, her enthusiasm infectious as she flashed a bright smile at Hunter and the rest of the squad.

“Now, come on, Omega. Let’s ignore them and finish up. I don’t really think a half-and-half look is going to be good on me.”

As Omega and Amina resumed the task at hand, Hunter and the rest of the squad exchanged amused glances. Wrecker was still chuckling to himself, a wide grin plastered across his face as he shook his head in disbelief.

"I swear, those two always find a way to keep us on our toes," Echo remarked with a smirk, his tone filled with amusement as he leaned against the wall of the hallway.

Tech nodded in agreement, his expression thoughtful as he adjusted his glasses. "Indeed. Amina's presence has certainly added an element of unpredictability to our missions."

Hunter couldn't help but smile at the camaraderie shared between his squadmates. Despite the challenges they faced on a daily basis, moments like these reminded him of the bond they shared, the sense of family that had formed between them.

"Yeah, well, let's give them some space to finish up," Hunter said, gesturing for the rest of the squad to move away from the refresher. "We can catch up with them later."

The squad dispersed, leaving Amina and Omega to finish their impromptu hair-dyeing session in peace. As they worked together to apply the dye to Amina's hair, their conversation drifted to lighter topics, their laughter filling the confined space of the refresher.

Once they had finished applying the dye and rinsed it out, Amina stepped out of the refresher with a grin, her hair now a sleek shade of black that contrasted beautifully with her brown skin. Omega followed close behind, a proud smile on her face as she admired her handiwork.

"You look amazing!" Omega exclaimed, her eyes shining with excitement as she admired Amina's new look.

Amina smiled gratefully at Omega, a warmth spreading through her chest at the younger girl's enthusiasm. "Thanks, Omega. You did a great job," she said, reaching out to ruffle Omega's hair affectionately.

Omega beamed at the praise, her cheeks flushed with pride. "Anytime, Amina. I had a lot of fun," she said.

Amina smiled warmly at Omega, feeling a sense of gratitude wash over her. "I had fun too," she admitted, her voice soft with affection. "Thanks for helping me out."

Omega grinned, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Anytime," she said, her tone playful as she reached out to give Amina a playful nudge. "Just let me know if you ever want to try out any other hair colors. I'm always up for a new adventure."

Amina chuckled, shaking her head in amusement at Omega's boundless energy. "I'll keep that in mind," she replied with a smile, ruffling Omega's hair affectionately. "But for now, I think I'm happy with black."

As they made their way back to the cockpit, Amina couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment settle over her. Despite the lingering threat of the Empire and the uncertainty of their future, she found solace in the camaraderie she shared with Omega and the rest of the Bad Batch.

As they entered the cockpit, they found Hunter and the rest of the squad waiting for them, their expressions a mix of amusement and relief. Hunter's gaze softened as he took in Amina's new hair color, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his lips.

"Nice hair, General," he remarked, his voice warm with approval as he gestured to Amina's sleek black locks. "I like the new look."

Amina grinned, a warmth spreading through her chest at Hunter's compliment. "Thanks, Hunter," she said, her voice tinged with gratitude. "Omega did most of the work."

Omega beamed at the praise, her chest puffing up with pride at the acknowledgment from Hunter. "It was a team effort," she said proudly, her eyes shining with excitement.

“Now, Omega, how about we get some food? I’m starving.” Amina suggested to Omega.

Wrecker perked up, “food?”

Hunter held out his hand with a few credits as Amina shook her head, “I don’t need credits.”

Amina's refusal caught Hunter off guard, his hand lingering in the air for a moment before he withdrew it, a puzzled expression crossing his features. "You don't need credits?" he echoed, his brow furrowing with confusion as he glanced at Amina. "Why not?"

Amina waved her hand, “mind tricks. Although, I consider it to be more like persuasion. And if needed, womanly wiles.” She patted Omega’s back, “come on, let’s get some food.”

“I would li- ”

“I’ll get you food too, Wrecker.” Amina called out, cutting him off, as her and Omega walked into the streets of Ord Mantell.

---

Omega sat on the stairs of the Marauder, fiddling with her comm. They were on a mission, a simple grab and go. The squad went to go get the crate as Omega and Amina stayed with the ship. An idea popped into Amina’s head as she jumped out of the ship holding her lightsaber.

“Want to have some fun? Grab some twigs or rocks and throw them at me.”

Omega's eyes widened with excitement at the prospect of a game. "Really? That sounds like fun!" she exclaimed, eagerly hopping to her feet as she scanned the area for suitable projectiles. Spotting a pile of small rocks nearby, she quickly scooped up a handful and turned back to Amina with a wide grin.

Amina grabbed a thick ribbon she uses to tie up her hair as she blindfolded herself. “Throw when ready!”

“Are you sure?” Omega asked, taken aback by Amina putting a blindfold on herself.

“Yep. This is how we trained at the temple. Move around if you’d like, I promise you won’t hurt me.” Amina turned on her lightsaber, twisting it in her hand as the blue light shone.

Omega hesitated for a moment, unsure if she should really throw the rocks at Amina, but the Jedi's reassuring smile put her at ease. With a determined expression, she wound up and threw the first rock, aiming carefully to avoid hitting Amina.

Amina listened intently, relying on her senses to anticipate the trajectory of the rocks. With a graceful spin of her lightsaber, she deflected the first one effortlessly, the rock bouncing harmlessly off the blade and clattering to the ground.

Encouraged by her success, Omega threw another rock, this time with a little more force. Amina reacted swiftly, deflecting the rock with ease as she moved gracefully around the forest floor, her movements fluid and precise.

As the squad walked closer to the Marauder, with Wrecker carrying a heavy tote, they saw Amina blindfolded, twirling around as Omega threw varies objects at her.

"What in the galaxy are they doing?" Echo muttered, his brow furrowing with confusion as he watched Amina gracefully deflecting Omega's projectiles.

Wrecker chuckled, the sound rumbling deep in his chest as he adjusted the weight of the tote on his shoulder. "Looks like they're having some kind of training exercise," he remarked, his eyes following Amina's fluid movements with interest.

Tech, ever the analytical one, squinted as he observed the scene. "It appears to be a form of sensory training," he observed, his tone thoughtful as he studied Amina's blindfolded form. "A test of her ability to rely on her other senses, particularly her connection to the Force."

Hunter nodded in agreement, his gaze fixed on Amina as she continued to move with grace and precision. There was something mesmerizing about the way she moved, a fluidity and confidence that spoke to her years of training as a Jedi.

"Should we... interrupt?" Echo asked hesitantly, glancing uncertainly at Hunter as he gestured towards the blindfolded Jedi.

Hunter considered the question for a moment, weighing the pros and cons of interrupting Amina's training. On one hand, they were on a tight schedule, and they needed to get moving as soon as possible. But on the other hand, he didn't want to disrupt Amina's focus or inadvertently cause her harm.

Before he could make a decision, Amina seemed to sense their presence, her movements faltering slightly as she turned towards them, the blindfold still covering her eyes.

"Hey, guys!" she called out, her voice bright and cheerful despite the blindfold. "Just finishing up some sensory training with Omega.” The girl threw two rocks at Amina as she spoke, her lightsaber cutting them in half.

The Bad Batch approached cautiously, their curiosity piqued by the sight of Amina twirling around gracefully, her lightsaber slicing through rocks and twigs thrown by Omega with precision.

Hunter stepped forward, his gaze fixed on Amina with a mixture of admiration and concern. "Sensory training, huh?" he remarked, his voice tinged with amusement as he watched Amina's fluid movements.

Amina nodded, a grin spreading across her face as she continued to deflect Omega's projectiles. "Yeah," she replied, her voice slightly breathless from the exertion. "Just trying to stay sharp."

Omega threw one last rock and twig as Amina took off her makeshift blindfold. “You did good. But not good enough, young one.” Amina playfully said.

"Aw, man," Omega replied, her tone playful as she stuck out her tongue at Amina. "I'll get you next time, General."

Amina chuckled, her heart light with amusement as she watched Omega's playful antics. Despite the challenges they faced on a daily basis, moments like these reminded her of the joy and camaraderie she shared with the rest of the squad.

---

Cid’s parlor was a bit busier than usual today, so Amina took it upon herself to do some bartending for extra credits. AZI was her helper, or really more like an annoyance, but she made the drinks quickly and to everyone’s liking.

Cid walked behind the bar and threw a piece of clothing at her, landing on her face as Amina pulled it off. “Put that on.” Cid said.

Amina looked it over, grimacing. “What… is it?”

“It’s a dress.”

Amina scoffed as Cid walked away, throwing the so-called dress underneath the bar. She wasn't exactly thrilled about the idea of wearing a dress, especially not one that seemed to have been picked out by Cid of all people. With a shake of her head, she leaned against the bar, glancing around the bustling parlor.

AZI hovered nearby, its mechanical whirring filling the air as it scanned the room for any potential troublemakers. Despite its somewhat grating presence, Amina couldn't deny that having AZI around provided a sense of security, especially in a place as rowdy as Cid's parlor.

"So, are you going to put on the dress?" AZI chirped, its voice tinged with curiosity as it floated closer to Amina.

Amina rolled her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest. "Not a chance," she replied firmly. "I'd rather wear my Jedi robes than whatever monstrosity Cid picked out for me."

AZI let out an amused beep, its sensors flickering with amusement. "Suit yourself," it said, its mechanical voice filled with amusement. "But you might want to reconsider. Cid can be... persuasive when she wants to be."

Amina arched an eyebrow, a smirk playing at the corners of her lips. "I'm not afraid of Cid," she declared, her tone confident. "I can handle whatever she throws at me."

As if on cue, Cid returned to the bar, a mischievous glint in her eye as she approached Amina. "So, did you try on the dress yet?" she asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

Amina shook her head, her expression unapologetic. "Not interested," she replied, her tone firm.

Cid chuckled, leaning against the bar as she regarded Amina with amusement. "You're a stubborn one, aren't you?" she remarked, a hint of admiration in her voice. "I like that."

Amina raised an eyebrow, taken aback by Cid's unexpected compliment. "Uh, thanks?" she replied, unsure of how to respond.

“But since the rest of the gang is out, you are working for me.”

“I’m not working for you. I’m not even getting paid other than the tips. I’m doing this because I’m bored.”

Cid tapped her long nails against the bar, “how about I pay you and you put on the dress?”

Amina arched an eyebrow, “alright, maybe. How much?”

“15 credits for the night.”

“No way, I’m worth a lot more than 15 credits. 60.”

“25.”

“40.”

Cid sighed, “deal. Put on the dress.”

Amina groaned, “why? It’s an ugly dress.”

“Because you’re bringing the mood down here with those rags of yours.” Cid said, her eyes roaming over Amina’s clothes. She looked down at her raggedy poncho and back up.

“Okay. I see your point. But it’s not that bad. And how do I know you’re not lying to me to try and get some of these mercenaries to get handsy with me?”

“You don’t trust me?”

She scoffed, “no. I don’t trust Trandoshans.” She looked outside, noting it was almost nighttime and the squad and Omega should be back from their mission in a few hours.

“Fine, think of it this way. You putting on a dress, means more tips.” Cid said, making the money gesture.

Amina rolled her eyes at Cid's persistence, but she couldn't deny the logic in the argument about potentially increasing her tips. With a resigned sigh, she relented. "Fine, but I'm not wearing it for long," she grumbled, reaching under the bar to retrieve the discarded dress.

Cid grinned triumphantly, her eyes sparkling with amusement as she watched Amina begrudgingly retrieve the dress. "That's the spirit," she declared, her tone cheerful as she leaned back against the bar.

As Amina slipped into the dress, she couldn't help but feel self-conscious. The fabric was scratchy against her skin, and the cut of the dress was far too revealing for her liking. She tugged at the hem, trying in vain to cover more skin as she shot a glare in Cid's direction.

Cid chuckled at Amina's discomfort, her laughter ringing out through the bustling parlor. "Looking good, General," she teased, her tone playful as she surveyed Amina's appearance.

Amina scowled at the nickname, but she didn't protest. She knew that Cid was just trying to get a rise out of her, and she refused to give her the satisfaction.

With a resigned sigh, Amina straightened her shoulders and plastered on a forced smile. "Happy now?" she asked, her tone dry as she turned to face Cid.

Cid grinned, her eyes twinkling with mischief as she nodded in approval. "Ecstatic," she replied, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "Now get back to work. We've got thirsty customers to serve."

Amina rolled her eyes, but she couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction at having successfully negotiated with Cid. She may not have gotten the best deal, but at least she wouldn't have to endure the dress for long.

As she moved behind the bar to serve the next round of drinks, Amina couldn't shake the feeling of unease that lingered in the back of her mind. She couldn't quite put her finger on it, but something about wearing the dress made her feel vulnerable in a way that she wasn't used to.

Pushing aside her doubts, Amina focused on her bartending duties, determined to make the best of the situation. She may not have liked wearing the dress, but she refused to let it affect her performance.

Hours passed in a blur of activity as Amina served drinks and engaged in idle conversation with the patrons of Cid's parlor. Despite her initial reservations, she found herself enjoying the lively atmosphere, the camaraderie of the mercenaries and smugglers providing a welcome distraction from the trials and tribulations of their daily lives.

She was waiting for the parlor to clear out and the Bad Batch and Omega to come back so she could escape, hopefully with a lot more credits than they’ll get from the mission.

And because she’s close to cutting one of Cid’s arms off.

Just as Amina was about to give in to her mounting sense of unease and make a hasty exit, the familiar sound of footsteps echoed through the parlor, drawing her attention towards the entrance. With a sense of relief, she watched as Hunter, Echo, Tech, Wrecker, and Omega made their way inside, their weary expressions a testament to the challenges they had faced during their mission.

Omega ran behind the bar to Amina, “woah, that’s new.”

Amina let out a huff, “yeah, I know. Cid made me wear it. But I got some credits out of it.”

Hunter approached the bar, his gaze lingering on Amina for a moment before he spoke. "You look... different," he observed, his tone careful as he studied her appearance.

Amina shifted uncomfortably under Hunter's scrutiny, suddenly self-conscious in a way she hadn't been before. "Yeah, well, Cid has a way of convincing people to do things they don't want to do," she admitted, her voice tinged with annoyance.

Hunter nodded in understanding, his expression sympathetic. "I know the feeling," he replied, his tone rueful. "Cid can be... persuasive when she wants to be."

"Well, at least I got some credits out of it," Amina added, trying to lighten the mood. "And I didn't have to wear the dress for too long."

Hunter chuckled, his eyes crinkling with amusement. "That's one way to look at it," he agreed, his tone playful. "Although, I have to admit, you do look good in a dress."

"Thanks," she replied, her voice soft. "But once I get out of this thing, I’m going to burn it with my lightsaber.” Amina reached down on a counter behind the bar and pulled out a small bag of credits, “I think there’s around 400 in there.”

Amina rubbed her japor snippet, looking up at him, “And I still don’t understand why I couldn’t go on the mission.” she muttered.

Hunter looked up from counting the credits, “you had a nightmare last night, I didn’t want to risk it.”

“Come on, a nightmare doesn’t make me a liability. I have them all the time.”

"Amina, it's not just about the nightmare," Hunter began, his voice gentle but firm. "It's about your well-being. We can't afford to take any unnecessary risks, especially when it comes to the safety of the squad."

Amina sighed, her frustration evident in the furrow of her brow as she crossed her arms over her chest. "I know you're just looking out for me, but I'm not made of glass, Hunter," she protested, her voice tinged with irritation. "I can handle myself, nightmare or not."

Hunter reached out, placing a reassuring hand on Amina's shoulder. "I know you can," he replied softly, his gaze meeting hers with unwavering intensity. "But I can't help but worry about you.”

Amina's expression softened at Hunter's words, a warm feeling spreading through her chest at the sincerity in his voice. Despite their occasional disagreements, there was no denying the bond that had formed between them over the past few months, especially with what happened after Kamino.

"I appreciate your concern, Hunter," Amina said, her voice softening with gratitude. "But you have to trust me. I can handle whatever comes my way."

Hunter nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "I do trust you, Amina," he assured her, his grip tightening slightly on her shoulder. "More than you know."

Amina felt a flutter of warmth in her chest at Hunter's words, a surge of affection welling up inside her as she met his gaze. There was something about the way he looked at her, something that made her heart skip a beat every time their eyes met.

Before either of them could say anything more, they were interrupted by the sound of footsteps approaching from behind. Turning around, they saw Tech and Echo making their way over to the bar, their expressions somber as they joined the conversation.

"Everything okay?" Tech asked, his brow furrowing with concern as he glanced between Amina and Hunter.

Amina nodded, offering them a reassuring smile. "Yeah, everything's fine," she replied, her tone light despite the lingering tension in the air. "Just having a little chat with Hunter here."

Echo arched an eyebrow, his gaze flicking between Amina and Hunter with a knowing look. "Ah, I see," he said, a playful grin spreading across his face. "Talking about your feelings, are we?"

“Yeah, I was talking about me and Omega going on a shopping spree.”

Omega looked up at Amina, “have you ever been shopping?”

“Nope. But it’s worth a try.” She picked up another small bag with around 500 credits, “there’s got to be some nice shops around here somewhere.”

Hunter’s eyes widened looking at the second bag of credits. “Where did those come from?”

“You really think I’d give you all the credits I earned wearing this stupid thing?” Amina said, walking out with Omega from behind the bar, “no way. I deserve to get some new clothes and maybe some Nectrose Freeze if we’re lucky.” She patted Hunter’s chest plate as her and Omega walked out of the parlor and out into the streets of Ord Mantell.

Hunter turned around on the stool, his gaze lingering on the doorway where Amina and Omega had just exited Cid's parlor. There was a softness in his eyes as he watched them leave, a warmth spreading through his chest at the sight of Amina holding Omega's hand.

Echo and Tech exchanged a knowing glance, their lips quirking up in amused smiles as they observed Hunter's reaction. It wasn't often that they saw their stoic leader display such obvious affection, especially towards someone outside of their squad.

"You think he's got it bad for her?" Echo whispered, his voice barely audible over the din of the parlor.

Tech shrugged, adjusting his glasses as he studied Hunter's retreating form. "It's possible," he replied thoughtfully. "There's definitely a connection between them, whether he wants to admit it or not."

---

A few hours later, Amina and Omega walked back to the Marauder, where Echo said they were now, the two of them holding 3 bags each.

She honestly had no idea what to expect, the closest she got to shopping was watching Padme shop online for dresses.

As they reached the ramp of the Marauder, Amina glanced over at Omega with a grin. "I can't believe how much stuff we got," she exclaimed, her voice filled with excitement. "I can't wait to show everyone."

Omega's eyes sparkled with enthusiasm as she nodded eagerly. "Me too! I can't wait to see what you got," she replied, her voice tinged with anticipation.

With a shared giggle, the two of them made their way inside the ship, the bags of clothes and trinkets swinging from their arms. As they entered the main living area, they were greeted by the rest of the squad, who had gathered around the holotable, deep in conversation.

Hunter looked up as Amina and Omega entered, a smile spreading across his face at the sight of their overflowing bags. "Looks like you two had a successful shopping trip," he remarked, his tone warm as he gestured towards their haul.

Amina nodded eagerly, her excitement palpable as she set her bags down on the floor. "We found some amazing stuff," she replied, her voice bubbling with enthusiasm. "You won't believe the deals we got."

Echo arched an eyebrow, his gaze flicking between Amina and Omega with curiosity. "I'm sure it's all very exciting," he said, his tone dry. "But did you happen to find anything useful? You know, like supplies or equipment?"

"Actually, I did, I can be responsible occasionally," Amina said with a playful smirk, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she glanced at Echo.

Echo raised an eyebrow, intrigued by Amina's confident tone. "Oh really? And what did you find?" he asked, his curiosity piqued.

Amina reached into one of her bags and pulled out a small datapad, holding it up triumphantly for the squad to see. "I managed to pick up a few supplies that I think will come in handy," she explained, her voice tinged with satisfaction. "Some medpacs, extra rations, and a few spare parts for the Marauder."

Tech's eyes lit up with interest as he took the datapad from Amina, his fingers flying across the screen as he examined the inventory. "Impressive," he remarked, his tone approving. "These supplies should help replenish our stockpile."

Amina grinned, her chest swelling with pride at Tech's praise. "Glad I could be of assistance," she replied, her voice tinged with satisfaction. "I figured it couldn't hurt to be prepared, especially with everything that's been happening lately." She reached into one of the bags and threw 3 detonators at Wrecker, “thought you might like those.”

Wrecker caught the detonators with a grin, his eyes lighting up with excitement as he examined the explosives. "Thanks, Amina!" he exclaimed, his voice booming with enthusiasm. "These will definitely come in handy."

Amina chuckled at Wrecker's enthusiasm, pleased to see her efforts being appreciated by the squad. "Glad you like them," she replied, her tone warm as she watched Wrecker inspecting the detonators with childlike curiosity.

---

The Marauder flipped upside down as Amina piloted the ship, much to Tech’s dismay who sat in the co-pilot seat as they flew away from a swarm of pirates.

"Would you mind keeping us right side up?" Tech asked, his voice laced with a hint of urgency as he adjusted the controls in a futile attempt to stabilize the ship.

Amina grinned mischievously, her fingers dancing across the controls as she expertly maneuvered the Marauder through the chaotic space battle. "Where's the fun in that?" she replied, her tone playful as she evaded another volley of blaster fire.

Tech let out an exasperated sigh, his frustration evident as he struggled to maintain control of the ship. "Fun?" he echoed, his voice tinged with disbelief. "This is not fun, Amina. This is reckless and dangerous."

Amina shrugged nonchalantly, her eyes sparkling with excitement as she glanced over at Tech. "You worry too much, Tech," she teased, her tone light despite the gravity of their situation. "We'll be fine. Trust me."

Echo let out a chuckle, “I’ve missed Skywalker flying.”

Amina laughed, “see, someone appreciates my flying skills!”

Wrecker let out a whoop of excitement as he fired the Marauder's cannons, sending a barrage of blaster fire towards their pursuers. "This is what I call a good time!" he exclaimed, his voice booming with excitement as he reveled in the thrill of battle.

Omega bounced in her seat, her eyes wide with excitement as she watched the space battle unfold before her. "This is so cool!" she exclaimed, her voice filled with awe as she cheered Amina on.

Tech, however, was less enthusiastic about their precarious situation. "Cool or not, we need to focus on getting out of here in one piece," he reminded them, his tone serious as he scanned the ship's scanners.

“You think I’d let me die? No way, Tech. But at least let me have some fun.”

Wrecker let out another whoop of excitement as he fired the Marauder's cannons, sending another barrage of blaster fire towards their pursuers. "Keep 'em coming, Amina!" he shouted, his voice booming with excitement as he unleashed a relentless assault on the enemy ships.

Amina grinned, her heart pounding with exhilaration as she pushed the Marauder to its limits. Despite the danger they faced, she felt alive in a way she hadn't in a long time. Flying had always been her passion, her escape from the chaos of the galaxy, and she relished every moment of it.

Echo glanced over at Tech, a wry smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Looks like Amina's having the time of her life," he remarked, his tone amused as he watched her expertly maneuver the ship.

Tech grumbled under his breath, his frustration evident as he struggled to keep up with Amina's erratic flying. "She's going to get us all killed," he muttered, his voice tinged with irritation as he adjusted the controls once again.

Amina patted Tech’s shoulder, “relax, Tech. I’m an expert flyer. If I can survive pod racing, and fighting General Grievous, I can survive a few pirates.” She flew the ship downwards in space, as the pirates continued to shoot, “ready for hyperspace?”

Tech glanced nervously at the rapidly approaching ships on the sensors before turning back to Amina. "Ready as I'll ever be," he replied, his voice tense with apprehension. "Just make it quick."

Amina nodded, her fingers flying across the controls as she plotted the course for hyperspace. With a flick of a switch, she engaged the hyperdrive, and the stars outside the viewport stretched into streaks as the Marauder jumped into lightspeed, leaving the pursuing pirates far behind.

As the ship hurtled through hyperspace, Amina let out a relieved sigh, her shoulders sagging with exhaustion as the adrenaline of the battle began to fade. She glanced over at Tech, a grin spreading across her face as she nudged him playfully.

"See? I told you we'd be fine," she teased, her voice laced with amusement as she leaned back in her seat.

“Yes, your flying techniques are…” he adjusted his goggles, “not very technical.”

“It’s all about feeling Tech.” she replied, bumping his shoulder.

Tech grumbled under his breath, adjusting his goggles as he muttered something about reckless piloting techniques. Amina couldn't help but chuckle at his exasperated expression, finding his disapproval oddly endearing.

"Relax, Tech," she teased, nudging him playfully with her elbow. "We made it out in one piece, didn't we?"

Tech huffed, his irritation evident as he shot Amina a sideways glance. "Barely," he replied, his tone dry. "But I suppose I should thank you for not getting us all killed."

Amina laughed, the tension of the battle melting away as she basked in the afterglow of their victory. "You're welcome," she replied, her voice light with amusement. "Just doing my job as the best pilot in the galaxy."

Tech rolled his eyes, but there was a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Modest as always," he remarked, his tone fond despite himself.

As the banter between Amina and Tech continued, Hunter watched them from his seat across the cockpit, a soft smile playing on his lips. Despite the chaos and danger they had just faced, there was a sense of camaraderie among the squad that he found comforting.

Echo glanced over at Hunter, his gaze lingering on the captain for a moment before he spoke. "You seem awfully quiet over there, Hunter," he remarked, his tone curious.

Hunter shrugged, his attention still focused on Amina and Tech as they traded playful barbs. "Just enjoying the show," he replied, his voice tinged with amusement. "It's not often we get to see Amina in action."

Echo nodded in understanding, his lips quirking up in a smile. "True," he agreed, his tone thoughtful. "She certainly knows how to keep things interesting."

Wrecker let out a booming laugh from his seat behind Tech, his enthusiasm infectious as he clapped Amina on the back. "That was some top-notch flying, Amina!" he exclaimed, his voice filled with admiration.

Amina grinned at Wrecker's praise, her chest swelling with pride at the recognition from her squadmates. "Thanks, Wrecker," she replied, her voice tinged with gratitude.

Omega bounced in her seat, her eyes wide with excitement as she looked around at her family. "That was so cool!" she exclaimed, her voice filled with awe.

Amina gave Omega a high-five, “why thank you. Maybe one day I can show you Boonta Eve on Tatooine.”

"What's Boonta Eve?" Omega's question hung in the air, prompting Amina to smile fondly as she considered how to explain the significance of the event to the young girl.

"Boonta Eve is a big race that happens on Tatooine," Amina began, her voice filled with excitement as she recalled the memories of watching the event with her brother Anakin when they were younger. "It's a podrace, where pilots from all over the galaxy compete in these incredibly fast and dangerous vehicles called podracers."

Omega's eyes widened with fascination as she listened intently to Amina's explanation. "Wow, that sounds amazing!" she exclaimed, her voice tinged with awe.

"It is," Amina agreed, her tone nostalgic as she thought back to the exhilarating atmosphere of the podrace. "The sounds, the sights, the speed- it's unlike anything else. Anakin and I used to watch the races together when we were kids. It was always the highlight of our year. It’s also how we got our freedom.”

“Freedom?” Omega asked again, “why would you have to race for freedom?

“Me and Anakin were slaves.” Amina answered casually.

Echo turned around to face her, “what? General Skywalker never said anything about that.”

“Yeah, we were slaves before Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan came to Tatooine. And Anakin didn’t really like to talk about it.”

"I'm sorry, Amina," Hunter said, his voice gentle as he reached out to place a comforting hand on her shoulder. "I can't imagine what that must have been like for you and Anakin."

Amina offered Hunter a small smile, her eyes shining with gratitude at his words. "Thanks. But I don’t really remember much. I was 8 when they brought us to the Temple, so I didn’t spend much of my life as a slave. But enough about my boring life, how about a game of dejarik, Omega?”

Omega's eyes lit up with excitement at the prospect of playing dejarik with Amina. "Yes, please!" she exclaimed, bouncing in her seat with enthusiasm. "I love playing dejarik!"

Amina chuckled at Omega's eagerness, her heart swelling with affection for the young girl. Despite everything they had been through, Omega's boundless enthusiasm never failed to bring a smile to her face. "Alright, let's do it," she said, gesturing towards the dejarik board with a playful grin. "But be warned, I'm not going easy on you."

Omega grinned, her eyes sparkling with determination as she settled in front of the dejarik board. "Bring it on, Amina," she replied, her tone confident. "I'm ready for anything."

---

“Your destiny lies with me, sister. Like it always has.”

Amina stood her ground, her lightsaber held in front of her. “I write my own story.”

Vader took menacing steps forward, the ground shaking, “Join me and we can rule the galaxy together.”

“No.” she said firmly.

Vader's mechanical breathing filled the air, a menacing sound that sent shivers down Amina's spine. She stood her ground, her grip tightening on her lightsaber as she faced off against the dark figure before her.

"You cannot resist the power of the dark side," Vader growled, his voice echoing with a cold certainty. "It is your destiny."

"I will never join you," Amina declared, her voice steady despite the fear that gnawed at her insides. “I may not be a Jedi, but I will not fall.”

Vader's mechanical hand tightened around the hilt of his lightsaber, the crimson blade humming to life with a menacing glow. "So be it," he replied, his voice dripping with malice as he raised his weapon to strike.

The two combatants circled each other warily, their lightsabers casting eerie shadows against the walls of the darkened chamber. Amina could sense the raw power emanating from Vader, a palpable force that threatened to overwhelm her. But she stood her ground, her resolve unwavering as she met his gaze with steely determination.

"Your resistance is futile, sister," Vader hissed, his voice laced with contempt. "You cannot hope to defeat me."

Amina clenched her jaw, her grip tightening on her lightsaber as she prepared to strike. "I don't need to defeat you," she replied, her voice steady. "I just need to survive."

With a roar of rage, Vader lunged forward, his lightsaber flashing as he unleashed a flurry of strikes. Amina met his attacks head-on, her movements fluid and precise as she parried each blow with expert skill. She could feel the heat of the lightsabers as they clashed, the sound of their duel echoing through the chamber.

With a upwards move, she sliced the eyes of his helmet as he kneeled down in front of her. Instead of bright blue eyes staring at her, they were a vengeful yellow. “Anakin.” She whispered.

Vader's expression twisted into a sneer, his lips curling in disdain. "You cannot save me, Amina," he growled. "I am lost."

But Amina refused to be deterred. She reached out with the Force, her mind probing his, searching for any trace of the man he used to be. And amidst the darkness and despair, she found a glimmer of something else—a spark of longing, of regret.

"You still care," she whispered, her voice barely audible above the hum of their lightsabers. "You still feel.” She turned off her lightsaber, “Padme died knowing there was good left in you. And I agree with her, I know it’s there somewhere. And I will find it Anakin, I promise.” She stroked the outside of his mask, kneeling down in front of him.

She thought the yellows of his eyes started to disappear when she felt a sharp sting in her gut. She looked down to see his red lightsaber through her stomach as he turned his saber off and she fell to the ground.

Amina quickly sat up on the Marauder, something that seemed to happen every time she fell asleep. No matter what happened in her dreams, she always tried to turn him, but it never worked.

And never in her dreams did Anakin actually deliver the final blow like in this one.

She glanced around the dimly lit interior of the Marauder, her eyes landing on the familiar forms of her companions. They were all asleep, unaware of the turmoil that plagued her mind. Amina ran a hand through her hair, trying to steady her racing thoughts.

"Another nightmare?" A voice broke through the silence, and Amina turned to see Hunter watching her with concern from his spot across the room. His expression was soft, his eyes filled with understanding.

Amina nodded, her throat tight with emotion. "Yeah," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. "It was... intense."

Hunter moved closer, his footsteps barely making a sound on the metal floor of the ship. He settled beside Amina, his presence a comforting anchor in the midst of her turmoil. "You know it's just a dream, right?" he said gently, his voice laced with reassurance.

“I don’t know about that.” She pulled her legs to her chest, “me and Anakin have these… Force gifts. We have vivid dreams, but it’s so hard to tell if it’s just a dream or a vision.”

Hunter listened to Amina's words, his brow furrowed with concern. He had heard her speak of her Force gifts before, but he couldn't imagine the weight of carrying such a burden- especially when those gifts manifested in haunting nightmares.

"Yeah, I get that dreams can feel pretty real sometimes," Hunter said, his voice quiet as he tried to find the right words. "But you can't let them consume you. You're stronger than that."

Amina nodded, her gaze distant as she wrestled with her thoughts. "I know," she replied softly. "It's just... hard to shake the feeling that there's some truth to them."

Hunter reached out, gently resting a hand on her shoulder. "Hey, we're here for you," he said, his voice filled with sincerity. "Whatever you need, we've got your back."

A small smile tugged at the corners of Amina's lips, grateful for Hunter's unwavering support. "Thanks, Hunter," she said, her voice tinged with warmth. "I appreciate it."

The two of them sat in companionable silence for a moment, the gentle hum of the Marauder's engines filling the air. Amina leaned into Hunter's touch, finding solace in his presence as she tried to push aside the lingering echoes of her nightmare.

Eventually, Hunter broke the silence, his voice soft but determined. "You know, we could always try talking to Tech about your dreams," he suggested. "Maybe he could help figure out if there's more to them than just... well, dreams."

She shook her head, “I can’t tell anyone about my dreams.” Telling anyone that Anakin became Darth Vader would put them in more danger than her being with them.

"Okay, I won't push it," Hunter said, his voice gentle as he gave Amina's shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "But just remember, we're all in this together. You don't have to face whatever's troubling you alone."

Amina offered him a small smile, grateful for his understanding. "Thanks, Hunter," she said, her voice soft but sincere. "I really appreciate it."

As the two of them sat in companionable silence, Amina couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude for the bond she shared with her fellow clones. They had been through so much together in the short time they had known each other, and yet they had always remained steadfast in their loyalty to one another.

But amidst the warmth of their camaraderie, Amina couldn't shake the lingering sense of unease that clung to her like a shadow. She knew that her nightmares were more than just figments of her imagination—they were visions, glimpses of a future that she desperately hoped to avoid.

Lost in her thoughts, Amina barely noticed as Hunter turned to look at her. "Well, it's getting late," he said, glancing towards the viewport where the faint glow of distant stars could be seen. "We should probably get some rest."

He went to stand up when Amina grabbed his forearm, “could you…”

Hunter turned back to look at Amina, his expression softening as he saw the earnest look in her eyes. He settled back down beside her, his curiosity piqued. "Could I what?" he prompted gently, giving her a reassuring smile.

Amina hesitated for a moment, her gaze dropping to her hands as she tried to find the right words. She could feel the weight of her request hanging in the air, the vulnerability of baring her innermost thoughts to another person almost overwhelming. But Hunter's presence was a comforting anchor, a steady presence that made her feel safe enough to voice her fears.

"Could you... stay with me?" she finally asked, her voice barely above a whisper. "Just for a little while?"

Hunter's smile widened, a warmth spreading through his chest at the sincerity in Amina's request. He reached out, gently taking her hand in his own. "Of course," he replied softly, his voice filled with reassurance. "I'm not going anywhere."

Amina's shoulders relaxed slightly at his words, a small sigh escaping her lips as she leaned into his touch. She could feel the tension slowly melting away, replaced by a sense of calm that she hadn't felt since before her nightmare had begun.

"Thank you," she murmured, her voice barely audible as she closed her eyes, allowing herself to savor the warmth of Hunter's presence beside her.

As Amina slowly fell asleep, she sleepily wrapped her arms around Hunter’s waist and placed her head on his chest as she drifted off. Hunter remained still for a moment, his heart pounding in his chest as he felt the weight of Amina's head against him. He could hear the soft sound of her breathing, steady and rhythmic, as she slipped into slumber.

Carefully, Hunter shifted his position, adjusting himself so that he could wrap an arm around Amina, holding her close. He could feel the warmth of her body against his own, a comforting presence in the darkness of the ship. For a moment, he allowed himself to simply bask in the intimacy of the moment, savoring the feeling of being so close to her.

---

Amina blew her nose on a tissue, walking out of the Marauder to see Omega sitting on Gonky going over the types of Imperial ships as “homework” from Tech.

"Hey, Omega," Amina greeted warmly, her voice carrying across the open space. "What are you up to?"

Omega looked up, her face lighting up with a smile as she saw Amina approaching. "Hey, Amina!" she replied cheerfully, setting aside the datapad. "Just doing some homework from Tech. He's been teaching me all about the different kinds of Imperial ships."

Amina nodded, her interest piqued. "Sounds interesting," she remarked, taking a seat beside Omega on Gonky. "Mind if I- ” Amina brought the tissue to her mouth, sneezing 3 times.

Tech walked over from the ship holding his datapad, “from my calculations, you’ve had this so called ‘cold’ for 3 rotations. And you’ve used 12% more tissues every day.”

Amina chuckled weakly; the sound muffled by the tissue pressed against her nose. "Yeah, well, I guess you could say I'm a bit under the weather," she replied, her voice nasally as she sniffled. "But don't worry, I'm sure I'll be back to my usual self in no time."

Tech nodded, his expression thoughtful as he continued to analyze the data on his datapad. "It's just... unusual," he mused, his fingers tapping against the screen as he processed the information. "Your symptoms seem to be persisting longer than anticipated, given your usual resilience."

“Well, it’s not my fault you have mutations that allow you to not get sick. I’m the unlucky o- ” Amina sneezed into the tissue again. “Unlucky one.”

Tech raised an eyebrow, his gaze flicking from his datapad to Amina and back again. "Indeed, it does seem that you're experiencing some rather inconvenient symptoms," he remarked, his tone laced with curiosity as he continued to analyze the data.

Amina nodded, a frustrated sigh escaping her lips as she tossed the tissue into a nearby waste bin. "Tell me about it," she muttered, rubbing at her nose with the back of her hand. "I feel like I've been hit by a speeder."

Omega frowned, her expression filled with concern as she watched Amina's discomfort. "Is there anything we can do to help?" she asked, her voice soft and earnest.

Amina shook her head, a weak smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "Thanks, Omega, but I think I just need some rest," she replied, her words punctuated by another round of sneezes. "I'll be fine."

Hunter stepped forward, his gaze lingering on Amina with a mixture of worry and affection. "Maybe you should take it easy for a while," he suggested, his voice gentle as he reached out to touch her shoulder. "We can handle things here."

"Oh, please. I was on Naboo when whatever his name was released the Blue Shadow Virus. This is nothing," Amina quipped, her voice tinged with playful sarcasm despite the discomfort she was feeling.

Hunter couldn't help but chuckle at Amina's response, admiring her resilience even in the face of adversity. "Fair enough," he conceded with a smile. "But still, maybe you should take it easy for a bit. We don't want you getting any worse."

Amina rolled her eyes playfully, but the concern in Hunter's voice didn't go unnoticed. Despite her efforts to downplay her illness, she appreciated his caring nature. "Fine, fine," she relented with a sigh, giving him a mock glare. "But only because you asked so nicely."

Hunter grinned, relieved that Amina had agreed to take it easy. He knew she had a tendency to push herself too hard, especially when it came to fulfilling her duties as a Jedi. But even Jedi needed to rest sometimes, and he was determined to make sure she took care of herself.

Tech, ever the analytical thinker, couldn't resist chiming in with his own observations. "According to my calculations, rest is indeed the most logical course of action," he remarked, his tone matter-of-fact as he consulted his datapad.

Amina sighed in mock exasperation, shooting Tech a playful glare. "You and your calculations," she teased, shaking her head with a smile. "Sometimes, I swear you forget that we're not just numbers on a screen." She tapped on his datapad, “have you ever looked up at the sky? Do you know what clouds look like?”

Tech raised an eyebrow at Amina's playful jab, his expression unreadable as he glanced up from his datapad. "Of course, I know what clouds look like," he replied, his tone dry. "But I fail to see how that's relevant to our current discussion."

Amina chuckled, shaking her head in amusement at Tech's literal-mindedness. "It's not," she conceded with a grin. "I just think you could use a little more... spontaneity in your life."

Tech arched an eyebrow, considering Amina's words for a moment before responding. "Spontaneity is an inefficient use of time and resources," he remarked, his tone matter-of-fact. "I prefer to rely on logic and calculation to guide my actions."

She shook her head, "I swear one day I'm-" Amina's sentence was cut short by another bout of sneezes, two in quick succession. She sniffled, feeling utterly miserable as she struggled to keep her symptoms at bay.

Hunter's expression softened with concern as he watched Amina, his brow furrowing with worry. "Maybe you should head back inside," he suggested gently, his voice filled with genuine concern. "You need to rest."

Amina nodded weakly, conceding defeat to her stubbornly persistent cold. "Yeah, you're probably right," she admitted, her voice hoarse from all the sneezing. "I hate to admit it, but I think I'm beat."

Omega frowned, her worry evident as she watched Amina's discomfort. "Is there anything we can do to help?" she asked, her voice filled with genuine concern.

Amina shook her head, a weak smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "Maybe some Karlini t- ” Amina trailed off, it was something Padme had made for her whenever she visited, a Nabooian specialty.

Omega hopped off Gonky, “what’s Karlini?”

“It’s a tea from Naboo. Padme always was stocked up on it, and whenever me and Anakin would visit, she would always have some ready. But we can’t get any since it’s mainly sold in core world planets. Som- ” Amina sneezed again before letting out a few coughs. “But it’s okay, I don’t want tea.”

Or rather she doesn’t want tea that’s not Padme’s.

"Would it help if we tried to find some?" Omega asked, her voice filled with determination. "I mean, we travel to different planets all the time. Maybe we could track some down for you."

Amina smiled weakly at Omega's offer, touched by her friend's thoughtfulness. "Thanks, Omega, but I don't want to put you guys through all that trouble," she replied, her voice still hoarse from all the sneezing. "I’m just going to do some meditating and see if that’ll help the healing process.”

Hunter watched Amina with concern, his brow furrowing as he took in her weary appearance. He knew she was stubborn when it came to accepting help, but he also knew that she needed to take care of herself if she wanted to get better. "Are you sure you don't want us to at least try to find some Karlini tea for you?" he asked, his voice gentle but insistent. "It might not be as much trouble as you think."

“I don’t want to drink tea that’s not from Padme,” she admitted, a tad harshly, before turning around and facing him. “Sorry. It’s just… I never liked tea, but Padme said that I’d love the one she had. And I did, but when I tried making it myself it was never the same.”

Hunter listened to Amina's words, his heart aching at the pain evident in her voice. He knew how much Padmé meant to her, how deeply her loss had affected her. And he understood why she was hesitant to accept any substitute for the tea that held such sentimental value.

"I understand," Hunter replied gently, his voice soft with empathy. "I'm sorry, Amina. I didn't mean to push."

Amina glanced up at Hunter, her eyes filled with gratitude for his understanding. Despite the distance she had tried to maintain, she couldn't help but feel a sense of comfort in his presence. He had a way of making her feel seen, of easing the weight of her burdens with just a few simple words.

"It's okay," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. "I know you were just trying to help."

Hunter nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Well, if there's anything else you need, just let me know," he said, his tone warm and reassuring. "I'll be here."

Amina offered him a grateful smile, touched by his unwavering support. "Thanks, Hunter," she replied softly, her voice tinged with warmth. "I appreciate it." Amina walked onto the Marauder and sat down cross-legged on the floor. Hopefully a good mediation will connect her to the force more, and it’ll be taken care of. Then she could breathe properly.

---

A few rotations later and she felt no different. The squad had gone on a mission while she had stayed behind on Ord Mantell.

But as she finished her meditation, she stood up feeling a little shaky and dizzy. She leaned against the wall of the Marauder and took a few deep breaths as she felt a light gust of wind and a whispering voice.

Amina turned her head to look behind her and found nothing. Either she was starting to hallucinate or Anak- Vader, was trying to make a connection with her through the force.

“Amina.”

She made a shushing sound, “why are you so loud?”

“Turn around sister.”

Amina shuddered at the vocoder and the coldness surrounding her. But even with that coldness she felt warm, “last time I saw you in my dream you tried to kill me.” Amina placed her cheek against the wall of the ship, the cool metal feeling good against her skin.

“You’re sick.”

Amina stuck out her hand and made a talking motion with her hand, “blah, blah, blah.” She felt a hand on her upper arm, and she glanced behind her, and there he stood, clear as day. “Man, this hallucination is good.”

Vader's mechanical breathing filled the air, a harsh reminder of the man he had once been before he had succumbed to the lure of the dark side. “You’re sick,” he said again.

Amina rolled her eyes, her irritation momentarily overriding her fear. "Yeah, thanks for the update, Captain Obvious," she retorted, her tone sharp with sarcasm. "I'm well aware of the fact that I'm not exactly firing on all cylinders right now."

Vader's expression remained impassive, his gaze unwavering as he studied Amina with a mixture of curiosity and concern. "You should rest," he suggested, his tone surprisingly gentle despite the mechanical rasp of his voice. "You won't get better if you push yourself too hard."

Amina scoffed at Vader's advice, her frustration bubbling to the surface. "And what do you care?" she demanded, her voice tinged with bitterness. "Last time I checked, you were more interested in cutting me down than offering me sympathy."

“I can feel you from across the galaxy. Where are you?”

Amina let out a laugh, “as if I would tell you. You’re gonna,” she made a whooshing sound, “me. No, thank you, sir.”

Vader's mechanical breathing filled the air, a harsh reminder of the man he had once been before he had succumbed to the lure of the dark side. “You underestimate the power of the Force,” he replied, his voice tinged with a hint of amusement. “I can find you, Amina. It’s only a matter of time.”

Amina raised an eyebrow, her skepticism evident in the quirk of her lips. "Is that a threat?" she asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Because last time I checked, I wasn't exactly quaking in my boots."

Vader's expression remained impassive, his gaze unwavering as he studied Amina with a mixture of curiosity and concern. "You should rest," he suggested again, ignoring her jab. "You won't get better if you push yourself too hard."

“Like I said, no, thank you, your majesty. I don’t take orders from you. Now, can you get out of my head?” Instead of a response, she heard mechanical breathing, “come on. You may be a Sith, but you can’t hold this connection for much longer.”

She blinked and felt lighter, turning around to see no Vader looming over her. She still wasn’t quite sure if it was really a force connection, or a wild hallucination.

Amina slowly walked down the ramp where the group was gathered, her steps faltering slightly as she fought against the dizziness that threatened to overwhelm her. She could feel the eyes of her companions on her, their concern palpable in the air as they watched her with furrowed brows.

Hunter was the first to approach, his expression filled with worry as he reached out to steady her. "Hey, are you okay?" he asked, his voice soft with concern. "You look a little... off."

Amina blinked at him, her vision becoming blurry and reminiscent of a kaleidoscope. Her hands came up to his face, patting his cheeks gently. "I didn't know you had two heads," she murmured, her words slurring slightly as the dizziness threatened to overwhelm her.

Hunter's brows furrowed with concern as he gently grasped Amina's wrists, guiding her hands away from his face. "Hey, come on, let's get you back inside," he said softly, his voice laced with worry. He wrapped an arm around her waist, supporting her weight as they made their way back towards the Marauder.

The rest of the squad followed closely behind, their expressions filled with concern as they watched Amina's unsteady steps. Tech stepped forward, his datapad already in hand as he analyzed Amina's symptoms with clinical precision. "It appears that Amina's condition has worsened," he remarked, his tone matter-of-fact as he consulted his data. "Her symptoms are consistent with a viral infection, possibly exacerbated by her recent exertions."

Hunter helped her lay down on one of the bunks as Amina looked to the side, at a space that was empty. There he was, standing there looking down at her with his arms crossed over his chest and his loud mechanical breathing. Was she hallucinating? Should she comm Obi-Wan? Or would he get angry at her like Anakin seemed to be right now?

Hunter followed Amina's gaze, his brow furrowing with confusion as he tried to make sense of what he was seeing. But all he saw was an empty space, devoid of any presence except for Amina lying on the bunk, her eyes wide with fear.

"Are you okay, Amina?" he asked gently, his voice laced with worry. He reached out, gently brushing a stray lock of hair away from her face as he searched her eyes for any sign of what she was seeing.

Amina blinked, her gaze unfocused as she tried to process what she was seeing. She could still feel the weight of Vader's presence, the coldness of his stare burning into her soul. But as she looked around the empty bunk, she couldn't find any trace of him.

"I... I don't know," she whispered, her voice trembling with uncertainty. "I thought I saw... someone. But they're not here."

Tech stepped forward with his datapad, his expression serious as he analyzed Amina's symptoms. "I believe she might've contracted Dantari flu," he announced, his tone matter-of-fact as he consulted his data.

Hunter's brows furrowed with concern as he turned to Amina, his expression filled with worry. "Dantari flu?" he echoed, his voice tinged with concern. "Isn't that... serious?"

Tech nodded, his gaze focused on his datapad as he continued to analyze the data. "Indeed," he replied, his tone clinical. "The Dantari flu is a highly contagious viral infection that can lead to severe respiratory symptoms, among other things."

Amina groaned, her head spinning with dizziness as she tried to process the information. She had heard of the Dantari flu before, but she had never experienced it firsthand. And from what she had heard, it wasn't something to be taken lightly.

"What do we do?" Omega asked, her voice tinged with concern as she looked to Tech for guidance. "Is there a cure?"

Tech nodded, his expression serious as he continued to consult his datapad. "There are treatments available," he explained, his tone measured.

Hunter's brows furrowed with concern as he considered their options. "So, what's our next move?" he asked, his voice steady despite the worry gnawing at his insides. "Do we need to find a medic?"

Amina shook her head, “maybe just some medicine? I don’t need a medic; it would bring unwanted attention.”

Hunter nodded, his gaze flicking between Amina and Tech as he considered their options. "Alright, let's see what we can do," he said, his voice steady despite the worry gnawing at his insides. "Tech, do you have any idea where we can find medicine for the Dantari flu?"

Tech consulted his datapad, his brow furrowing with concentration as he analyzed the data. "There's a medical supply shop a few blocks from here," he announced, his tone matter-of-fact. "They should have what we need."

“Alright, Tech, you and Omega can go get some medicine, Wrecker and Echo, see if you can’t find any water or food. I’ll stay here with Amina.”

As the squad dispersed to carry out their assigned tasks, Hunter remained by Amina's side, his concern for her evident in the furrow of his brow and the gentle touch of his hand on her shoulder. Amina leaned against the bunk, feeling the weight of her illness pressing down on her as she struggled to keep her eyes open.

"You don't have to stay," Amina murmured, her voice hoarse with exhaustion as she glanced up at Hunter. "I'll be fine on my own."

Hunter shook his head, his expression resolute as he met Amina's gaze with unwavering determination. "I'm not leaving you," he replied firmly, his voice filled with quiet resolve. "Not when you're like this."

Amina offered him a weak smile, touched by his steadfast loyalty. Despite her stubborn insistence that she could handle things on her own, she couldn't deny the warmth that spread through her chest at the thought of having Hunter by her side.

"Thanks," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper as she closed her eyes, allowing herself to rest against the soft fabric of the bunk. "I appreciate it."

Hunter went into the refresher and wet a piece of cloth with cool water. He came back and brushed Amina's hair off her forehead before gently placing the cloth on her skin. The coolness of the cloth provided some relief to Amina's fevered brow, and she sighed softly, leaning into the soothing sensation.

"Thanks," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper as she opened her eyes to look at Hunter. "That feels nice."

He smiled and nodded, “I’m going to go keep watch until the squad gets back.” Before he made it far, Amina gently grabbed his wrist.

“Can you stay?” She asked quietly, scooting over on the bunk towards the wall, “you make a pretty good pillow.”

Hunter hesitated for a moment, his gaze flickering between Amina and the door of the Marauder. He knew he should keep watch, especially with Amina feeling under the weather, but her quiet plea tugged at his heartstrings, and he found himself unable to resist.

"Sure, I can stay," he replied softly, a warm smile spreading across his lips as he settled onto the bunk beside Amina. He shifted slightly to make himself more comfortable, his arm instinctively wrapping around her as she leaned into him.

Amina sighed contentedly as she rested her head against Hunter's chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat a comforting presence in the midst of her illness. She closed her eyes, allowing herself to bask in the warmth of his embrace as she drifted off to sleep.

For a while, the only sound in the Marauder was the gentle hum of the ship's engines and the soft rustle of fabric as Hunter shifted slightly to get more comfortable. He glanced down at Amina, a fond smile playing at the corners of his lips as he watched her sleep.

Despite the circumstances, there was something undeniably comforting about having Amina in his arms. He had always felt a strong connection to her, ever since they had first met on Kamino all those months ago. And now, as he held her close, he couldn't help but feel a sense of peace wash over him.

As the minutes turned into hours, Hunter remained vigilant, keeping a watchful eye on the door of the Marauder as he held Amina in his arms. He knew he should be focused on the task at hand, but he couldn't shake the feeling that being here with Amina was exactly where he was meant to be.

Eventually, the rest of the squad returned, their arms laden with supplies and medicine for Amina. Hunter helped them unload the supplies, his gaze never straying far from Amina's sleeping form as he kept a protective watch over her.

Tech quickly got to work, administering the medicine to Amina and monitoring her vitals with his usual clinical efficiency. The rest of the squad hovered nearby, their expressions filled with concern as they waited for any signs of improvement.

As the hours passed, Amina's fever began to break, and her breathing eased as the medicine took effect. Hunter breathed a sigh of relief, his shoulders sagging with relief as he watched Amina's color return to her cheeks.

Amina stirred slightly in Hunter's arms, her eyelids fluttering open as she blinked up at him in confusion. "Hey there," Hunter greeted softly, his voice gentle as he brushed a stray lock of hair away from her face. "How are you feeling?"

Amina smiled weakly, her voice hoarse from sleep as she glanced around the Marauder. "Better," she murmured, her gaze drifting back to Hunter's concerned expression. "Thanks to you."

Hunter smiled, a warmth spreading through his chest at Amina's words. "Anytime," he replied softly, his voice filled with sincerity. "I'm just glad you're feeling better."

The rest of the squad gathered around, their expressions filled with relief as they watched Amina slowly sit up in bed. Echo offered her a glass of water, which she gratefully accepted, taking small sips as she regained her strength.

"Thanks, everyone," Amina said, her voice stronger now as she looked around at her friends. "I really appreciate all of your help."

Wrecker grinned, his expression filled with genuine warmth as he clapped Amina on the back. "No problem, General," he said, his voice booming with enthusiasm. "We're just glad you're okay."

Omega nodded in agreement, her expression serious as she met Amina's gaze. "Yeah, we were worried about you," she admitted, her voice tinged with concern. "But I'm glad you're feeling better now."

Amina smiled gratefully at her friends, feeling a surge of warmth in her chest at their unwavering support. She knew she was lucky to have them by her side, especially in times like these when she needed them the most.

"Well, thanks again. But I think I’d much rather get shot at by Separatist droids than go through that again," Amina remarked with a weak chuckle, her voice still raspy from her recent illness.

Hunter couldn't help but smile at her attempt at humor, though he knew firsthand just how serious the situation had been. "Let's hope it doesn't come to that," he replied, his tone lighthearted as he glanced around at the rest of the squad.

Wrecker let out a booming laugh, clapping Hunter on the back with enough force to nearly send him stumbling forward. "You hear that, Tech?" he exclaimed, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. "Amina would rather face a whole army of droids than be laid up in bed."

Tech rolled his eyes, though there was a hint of amusement in his voice as he shook his head. "I highly doubt that Wrecker," he retorted, his tone dry as he adjusted his goggles. "But I suppose it's a sentiment we can all agree on."

Echo nodded in agreement, though his expression was more subdued as he surveyed the small group gathered in the Marauder. "We should count ourselves lucky," he remarked quietly, his gaze flickering to Amina with a hint of concern. "Not everyone gets a second chance."

"More like a twenty-second chance," Amina quipped, her voice laced with a hint of amusement as she glanced around at her squadmates, her eyes lingering on Hunter for a moment longer than necessary.

Hunter couldn't help but chuckle at her remark, a warm smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he met Amina's gaze. "Well, let's make sure you don't need a twenty-third," he replied, his tone light but filled with genuine concern.

tags: @callsign-denmark

[spilledmilkfkdies]

Hi :D

i suddenly hyperfixated heavily on wizards of the black circle, and there's absolutely no content(like there's maybe like a few fics and their tumblr tag is just full of posts by the same three people)

what would the wizards do or how would they like rest, cause we see that they clearly get exhausted and worn down a little by the fighting and using their magic

like would duman need to rest longer cause we see him using his powers like constantly(i personally think he takes a lot of naps, actually most of them would consider how old they could just taking group grandpa naps lol)

Am I not one of those three people anymore- Gotta step up my game fr dang

I think generally resting is a pretty straightforward thing. We even see Gantlos taking a nap, which I personally find absolutely delightful. It's very important to me. Get those hours in grandpa!! They're clearly not above sleeping and GOOD, they shouldn't be.

But depending on the point in time, the way they went about things probably did change over time? To me there's like 3 major points for them: Their start -> prime -> downfall.

Like in the early days it was probably a rare sight for them to all sleep at the same time, same goes during their downfall. Plus depending on their personal experience and skill levels they may all have needed a different amount of rest after using their magic excessively or even recklessly, so yeah. As a whole they kinda had this BOOM ATTACK lay low and don't use your magic, then ATTACK AGAIN and hide- Repeat cycle, something like that going on.

Then their prime rolled around and they just. Didn't really need to lay low between attacks anymore. They still slept! Sort of! But when they started feeling low on magical energy they could tap into the Black Circle (the object), which now stored a bunch of absorbed magic, take a quick sniff and be replenished. At most it'd take a meditation maybe, but it wasn't something they needed to take a big break for anymore. Imagine being a Terrestrial fairy. You've gotten used to the wizards disappearing after bigger attacks and suddenly those breaks get shorter and shorter until eventually there no longer are breaks. Me personally, I would give up.

Eventually their downfall rolls around, which brought back both the sleeping in shifts, as mentioned, as well as the ATTACK and lay low approach. But now it's embarrassing because they're cocky and supposed to be above that at their grown, experienced age. They're not stupid enough to inhale their whole magic supply in a panic, but that doesn't leave them with a lot of different options beside the reliable breaks.

HOWEVER!! Back in the day they somewhat had the advantage of going from minor inconvenience to genuine threat, right- Meanwhile during S4 they already ARE a threat, just disappearing like they used to doesn't quite work the same anymore. They don't have the energy to sustain their reputation, and the reputation is too much for their enemy to let their guard down while the wizards try to lay low. Just things to think about. I know I think.

Something else I think about!! Is Duman specifically!! And nobody was surprised sksjdhfj. I'd like to think his magic is on the majority of the time, that's just how he works. His transformations are quick and frequent, as we know, having it on just helps that work properly. Now I have considered!! Hibernation. At times. At least a form of it.

Back in the day there were genuine times he was out of the running for a while just not to strain his magic more than it could handle. Of course he wasn't as GREEDY with it as modern day Duman, so it didn't happen often, but it did happen. Very inconvenient!! Ogron despised his ass frfr. Jk but. It stopped being a necessary thing during their prime too, because of their shared supply- Probably should've returned during their downfall though. But it didn't. So.

I could really yap on about the hibernation thing tbh, I keep breakdancing on the fence whether I really wanna use it, but the concept has given me THOUGHTS and the wizard server refuses to humor me!!!!! No they do just the last time I brought it up with them I didn't have a lot to say yet jdkdj- Either way I could probably just. Use it sometimes, depending on what I'm doing. What else is new right.

[thr-333]

Ok here’s the context. And here’s more context:

Junior paused, stopping his knife for a moment just to breathe. He looked up at his warped blurred reflection in the pans hanging on the wall. It was fine he could just say he was tired. It would be more believable if energy wasn’t coursing under his skin. His ninpo coming out in little flicks of light like static shock.

“Junior, do you mind giving me an extra hand?” His dad called from the other room. Junior took a deep stuttering breath kicking himself into gear.

“Sure thing Pops~” Quickly he sliced through the rest of the vegetables, scraping them off into the already boiling pot. Junior stared at it a moment, thoughts too loud yet nonsensical. He shook his head before he could get stuck again grabbing a towel to clean his hands as he walked out into the living room, “Dinner will be ready in a few,”

“You’re fantastic, you know that?” Dad asked, sitting on the couch, the blankets thrown haphazardly to the side as if they didn’t already have blood on them. He had a wad of bandages wedged between his arm and his shell.

“Yeah Dad,” Leo jr smiled so he wouldn't see how he was shaking apart, “You tell me everyday,”

“It’s true every day,” Dad smiled and laughed as if that was an easy thing to do through the pain. For him it probably was.

Junior smiled again sitting down so he wouldn’t have to say anything. He inspected the bandages already half soaked in blood, but that was probably because he had been holding them there ever since he left the battle nexus. Junior pulled the bandages back to look at the slice on the underside of the arm.

He pulled the first aid kit out from under the couch prepping what he needed. The movements were practiced. Not as much as they could have been. Dad liked to patch himself up most of the time. It was only injuries to his arm like this that he couldn’t reach. Not with Uncle Raph’s prosthetic hanging on the wall.

“How did this one happen?” Junior hummed as he sterilized the needle. It was a distraction he didn’t need his Dad noticing how his hands shook. Thinking Junior couldn't handle a patch job. Thinking he couldn’t be trusted.

“Eh lucking shot,” Dad shrugged Juniors hands snapped up to hold him still giving him a warning look, “Guy got around my block,”

“It’s that crow Yokai right? The one without the wings?” Junior took a breath trying to focus on the broth bubbling in the other room and the wound that needed cleaning right in front of him, determined not to mess either up, “He uses his talons so you expected the blow to be low. You forgot his knees bend a different way to yours, so higher more accurate kicks are easier,”

“I thought you didn’t watch my fights anymore?” Dad teased, it hit Junior heavily. He started on the stitches focusing on that, only that.

“Tv’s exist Dad, I can go next door, plus everyone around the city talks about you so I know what happens anyway,” Junior rushed to make excuses, to soothe the disappointment, “Besides I thought you didn’t want me around there?”

“I don’t,” Dad said with convicted authority, the tone and power behind it making Junior falter, “I don’t want you anywhere near Big Mama,”

“... Well you don’t have to worry about that,” Junior assured cheerfully, skin crawling. He dug back into the stitches, “Or this just about done, I’m not hurting you am I?”

“Course not, you’re doing great,” Dad reassured, Junior was pretty sure he could do the sloppiest, shoddiest stitches in the world and he wouldn’t even flinch. 

He was strong like that. Leo Jr had seen him walk off injuries that would have put a lesser man in the ground. Blow past recovery times with a swinging sword. He was like a myth across the hidden city, the turtle they said who could withstand anything. Junior knew the man behind the myth, knew they were right.

“All done,” Junior snatched up the supplies before his Dad had a chance to, “I’ll clean up and bring dinner. Do. Not. stand up,”

“Whatever you say doc,” Dad raised his arm in surrender, immediately pulling on the stitches which would make anyone else flinch. Junior glared him down until he lowered his arm, “Thank you kiddo, you’re a lifesaver,”

“Please I think we both know it’ll take more than that to kill you,” Junior rolled his eyes taking the excuse to look away, his expression fell the second it was out of sight, “Don’t move I’ll be right back,”

Junior stepped into the kitchen with arms full of medical supplies. The pot was boiling over. His breath started to quicken, getting clogged on the steam. He had to leave. He had to do better. He had to leave. He was being stupid he had to do literally one thing. Just take the pot off the stove. Just move it away from the heat and it would be fine, have a chance to cool down. The soup would be saved.

Instead he ran into the bathroom.

The supplies got dumped into the sink. Junior holding onto the rim with a white knuckled grip. His breath was too fast. His eyes were too wide and panicked in the mirror. Sparks of blue electricity were coming off of him, running up and down his arms. Like he was destabilizing.

Junior looked down at the sink where his hands were trembling and bloody bandages were waiting to be tended. Needles needed to be sterilized. Dad needed his help so little why did it have to happen on a day where everything was crashing down around him. For no good reason.

“You are his pride and joy,” Junior’s attention snapped to the mirror, seething words spat at the mirror. “So act like it,”

He grit his teeth ignoring how his breathing was still harsh and the world was out of focus. He forced himself through the movements. Cleaning up the supplies. He just had to keep his act together for a little longer. Dad wouldn't be going back to the battle nexus tonight, just a little longer.

He cleaned up the bathroom. Taking a moment when he was done to stare at the door. Gather all the pieces of himself and force them into a perfect puzzle picture. He pushed the door open with a deep breath that got startled out of him when he saw his Dad on the other side. His expression dropped moving automatically to try and settle on the right mask.

“Sorry I moved,” Dad shrugged stirring the broth with a spoon, picking up and inspecting too soggy vegetables, “Pot was boiling over,”

“Thanks for catching that,” Junior said through his clogged throat, voice coming out too raspy, too obvious, too wrong.

“You ok?” Dad asked, looking over his shoulder.

“Yeah fine,” You failed, now he’s worried, not good enough, “Dinner time?”

Junior passed by dinner in a daze. Tired, tired, tired, he told Dad. Which at least meant he rushed them both off to bed quickly. Dad settled on the couch where he had slept for as long as Junior could remember, while he lay on the futon on the floor which he didn’t dare complain was uncomfortable.

He waited until his Dad’s breaths evened out in sleep. Dad always fell asleep fast but light, the opposite to Junior. He pulled the blankets up over his head blocking out the light as he disappeared from his bed with a flash.

Junior opened his eyes to a wind on his face and the rapidly approaching lights of the city below. He took a deep breath sighing in relief at his first real taste of oxygen all day. Junior flipped over his back to the ground as he kept falling. Looking up at New York the veneer of mystic energy makes a window to the world above.

Blue lightning flashed and crackled around him. With a zip he disappeared before hitting the roofs of the skyline. Junior reappeared right below the veneer. Hand reaching out just barely brushing it before gravity retook him. This time as he fell down he went head first creating a portal below himself. He went through and came out the other end with an orange mask and outfit. Junior twisted around landing on his feet in the battle nexus training area.

“Oh shit!” one of the contestants faltered, sending him off balance. The giant hammer he was aiming at the training dummy Junior got between probably didn’t help.

“Hiiii~” He waved, wiggling his fingers. With a massive grin not like they could see it under his canine like mask.

“Fucking fox,” The yokai huffed pulling himself up bracing against his hammer, “I should skin you,”

“Hm, try it,” Junior grinned, easily stepping under the clumsy grab. The yokai’s fingers barely brushed against the tassels of his mask that stood up like ears. “Too slow, toodles,”

He giggled as he stepped out of range of another grab. Not bothering to properly dodge merely walking away. The yokai gave a frustrated huff but they had played this song and dance enough to know Junior would never get caught. Plus the guards were eyeing them. No fighting outside of matches, they didn’t earn money if contestants got injured off stage.

The long tassels of his belt dragged behind Junior as he walked. All his clothes were loose and baggy, perfect and comforting. A sort of mixed patterning that bordered on an eye sore which was just annoying enough to be eye catching.

Junior walked through the training area with a skip in his step. Eyes hidden behind his mask roaming over the fighters eyeing him with disdain as he walked freely. They were all forced to live down here. The lucky ones, the ones that were loyal to big mama sometimes had the privilege of walking out. But Dad and Junior were the only ones who could freely walk in and out. It’s not like anyone could stop them, not with their portaling ability.

The champion most of the Yokai down here could accept. Or were smart enough not to argue with a man that could fold them in half on his less nice days. Junior on the other hand was an upstart. Dropping in tearing through the ranks then dropping out again only sometimes getting his ass handed to him.

In his defense it wasn’t like he was using his portaling ability in fights, or any of the fighting styles his Dad had taught him. That would be a dead give away. So sue him for fighting with one hand tied behind his back. It’s not like he really wanted to break through the top ranks. He was sure Big Mama was dying for a chance to pit him against his Dad. So usually Leo jr ignored them but tonight was a special case.

He looked around the training and living area, a few worn mats and crates passing for a lounge area in these parts. In all fairness his house barely had more furniture. Crowded around a bandaged wingless crow were several low and mid tier fighters alike hanging on to his every word.

“Blue Demon wasn’t shit, getting a hit on him was easy,” Said the Yokai with a busted leg, that if Junior was taking an educated guess Dad grabbed hold of when the crow hesitated a second after landing the hit, surprised that he had managed it, “All that never draws blood stuff is a bunch of over inflated crap, send me in the ring with him again I’ll prove it over and over,”

“How pathetic~” Junior cooed, jumping up to land on the shoulders of a Rhino yokai. Who was not happy about that. He tried to smack Junior but the turtle moved at the last second so he only hammered himself, “The most any of you can brag about is giving the champion a nick?”

“As if you could take him mutt,” The crow hissed as Junior landed lightly in front of him.

Junior frowned remembering this morning, their training spar. He could read the way Dad was holding back his punches. How he had opportunities he didn’t take to let Junior land a hit. He didn’t even try; he might as well have screamed Junior wasn’t good enough, that he would never reach that level.

“Whether I can or can’t isn’t the point,” Junior leaned forward. His mask painted in a permanent grin would color his tone to sound cheerful no matter what he did, he didn’t have to put any effort into it here. This act was easy to keep up, “You were meant to be good enough to stand up to him, and instead you sit here bragging about a practical paper cut while you were a slightly tighter grip away from losing your leg next,”

“You arrogant little shit!” Crow man stood buckling under his injury. Junior laughed high and mocking, squatting down to get on his level.

“You want to know something,” Junior tilted his head to the side as he got death glares from every side. It was good, it was relieving. It got all the scorn out of his head and gave it faces. Opponents he could beat, or get beat by. Thoughts didn’t do that which is what made them worse, “He didn’t take your fight seriously, he didn’t even try, he will never fight you for real because you are not his equal,”

Junior stood up looking dispassionately down at the Yokai. Their eyes were wide and hurt. What must that shock feel like, to not have already accepted it as a truth of the universe?

“You will never be good enough for him,”

“You bastard,” 

He looked up at Junior with hatred, not anger or annoyance the usual reactions he got. Undeniable seething hatred. The one Junior was after. Probably would have been better for him if he hadn’t pulled it out of a first tier fighter but oh well. He barely had time to process the sudden slash going for his throat. Energy started to build up under his skin. Junior had no idea if he would have enough time to portal away. Oh boy would Dad be disappointed in him for this one.

“Oh boys~” Everyone in the arena froze. Talons centimeters away from Juniors neck, blue lightning crackling around him. He and the crow didn’t move from their stand still. Frozen as they looked with their eyes towards the platform overseeing the room, “Foxy-poo I need to talk to youuu~”

“Ohhhh someone's in trouble,” Junior used the built up energy to teleport to the banister. Freely using it while he knew Dad wasn’t here.

“I don’t believe you’re scheduled in for a match today,” Big Mama looks at him over the rim of her glasses, “Or anyday for that matter,”

“I’m more like a loveable stray who shows up when they please,” Junior waved cheekily at the seething competitors down below. Most watched waiting for her to rip him a new one. Didn’t the idiots know psychological warfare was more her style.

“The loveable may be debated dear,” Big Mama looked over the railing at their not so adoring audience. The tension thick, growing thicker when it became clear Junior wasn’t in immediate trouble. Realizing the effect of having an apparently pleasant conversation with the guy everyone hated would be bad for her she stepped away from the railing, “Why is it that you insist on coming here to antagonize my fighters?”

“Entertainment value?” Junior followed her down the hallway jogging at her side.

“Entertainment is for paying customers turtlely-poo,” She bopped him on the ‘nose’ of his fox-like mask.

Junior frowned, keeping the mask on. Dad had taught him from a young age that having a conversation with big mama was a minefield. Junior had watched the way she approached people and picked them apart from their body language to tone to their face. If he could eliminate one of those variables he would.

“You should be thanking me, they were dissing your oh so treasured champion,” He couldn’t keep the annoyance out of his voice no matter how hard he tried. It was fine it’s not like she really had anything to hold over him, “They thought he was weak,”

“I like it when they think that, it makes them more willing to get in the ring,” Big  Mama waved off flippantly as the hallway transitioned from dirty stone to nicer marble and tile, “Something I might add they are always very keen to do when it comes to you, so I would suggest you stop flaunting your disregard for the rules before you do get your throat cut,”

“I’ll have you know I’ve broken no rules. I never throw the first punch, I rarely attack back,” They came to a door, the bell hop bodyguards opening it for them. Junior followed Big Mama in without hesitation.

“If you are not going to obey me perhaps we should get your father involved, I’m sure he could make you see reason,”

“Please you wouldn’t, you’d lose this,” Junior flopped down onto an expensive couch gesturing to himself. He should get one of these for Dad. They were infinitely comfier than their one at home, he could easily make a portal under it yoinking it out of this very expensive room. Or maybe he should just get his poor pops a bed, “And Dad would probably be so mad you let me fight he’d quit and you’d lose your champion,”

“Champions come and go love,” Big Mama walked towards him, Junior regretted sitting down now it meant he was looking up at her. He had basically handed her the intimidation factor on a silver plate, “Yes some are missed more than others but ultimately the battle nexus goes on, a new champion comes,”

She circled behind the couch Junior tried to keep her in sight. Without getting up and admitting his mistake. Even in human form she suddenly felt more spider than person.

“Even if this arena were to completely collapse I could rebuild,” She was behind him now Junior could feel her oppressive force, like there was a predator at his back, “In Fact if I abandoned it all together I still have my hotel and other… illicit businesses my finances would hardly be affected,”

She paused, letting it sink in. Logically Junior knew she loved the battle nexus that the bloodshed gave her a rush and Dad was her best champion off the back of Lou Jitsu. But she had already recovered from the loss of one beloved champion with another. Although part of Junior wanted to protest she would never find anyone as strong as his Dad he knew in the end she was willing to do anything to drag down the rest of her fighters if it meant her champion shined.

“But you dear? Well the trust and love of a father is not easy to regain,” She idly played with the tassels of his mask, Junior shivered. “So are we going to behave?”

“... yes big mama,”

“Very good!” She clapped her hands right behind him, making Junior jump. He pushed off from the couch figuring screw it he wanted to be out of arm's reach. Preferably out of the room, out of the building, “Now scurry along dear, can’t have you causing trouble for your dear old dad or anyone else tonight can we?”

“Suppose not,” Junior mumbled, this all seemed so disproportionate. 

Risking losing a champion, any champion, because he ruffled a few feathers? No, she didn’t care about unrest between her fighters. This was about power. Proving she had a hold on Junior not the other way around. That he did have something to lose.

Junior disappeared from the room with a flash making sure he had dropped his fighter gear before reappearing at home. Junior crawled out from under his blankets. Dad was still sleeping but that changed as Junior got closer to the bed. His eyes snapped open looking at Junior before sweeping over the room and checking him again. Junior stayed still well used to the routine. He didn’t move until Dad relaxed, sinking back into the lumpy couch.

“Everything alright?” He asked, holding out his arm, stitches catching the light.

“Mm,” Junior hummed, falling into his Dad’s embrace climbing onto the couch too small for them both.

Dad took it in stride, well used to needing to balance them both on the couch. Junior tried to avoid his stitches while relaxing. It was a bit awkward with two hard shells but Dad had always been good at managing that. Somehow finding the most comfortable position.

“Do you want to talk about what was bothering you all day?” Dad whispered, rubbing his hand against Junior’s shell.

He noticed, you did a terrible job at hiding it, you made him worry, you failure.

“No,” Junior tucked his face into his Dad’s chest voice broken.

“Alright,” Dad said quietly, still rubbing his shell in such a soothing gesture it had Junior relaxing like always, “I’m here if you want to talk, always here,”

“I know Dad,” But he could never say anything. Never let his Dad be sad and hurt by his insecurities, by his doubts that he will ever live up to his fathers expectations. He could keep that all inside because letting out that hurt meant hurting the one person who had always been there for him, “I love you,”

[random-ln-stuff]

We’ve never seen the Lady at full power. Quite the opposite in fact, as we’ve only ever seen the Lady when she’s at her absolute weakest.

It’s stated that at the same time every year, the Maw shows up somewhere and has its massive feast. At the end of that feast, the Lady consumes the souls of the guests, giving her the energy needed to remain alive and young with her powers for another year. Then one year later when the Lady starts running low on energy again, the feast happens, the Lady consumes the souls of the guests and the whole thing starts over again.

During those few days right before the feast happens, the Lady is at her weakest because the supply of souls she’s been eating to keep herself going have almost run out, and she’s waiting for the feast to happen so she can restock.

Both Six and RK encounter the Lady on the day of the feast, but still BEFORE the Lady begins consuming the guests. The feast has only just begun and the Lady only begins stealing the souls of the guests around the end of the whole thing. So we see the Lady at her absolute weakest point, basically starving with very little to keep her powers going.

If Six had came to the Maw at literally any other time, she would have encountered the Lady in a much more powerful form. If Six had shown up during those first few days after the feast, she would have encountered the Lady at her absolute strongest.

And dear god do I wish we saw the Lady in her prime or even her usual state. Because it has been said that by Tarsier Studios that the Lady knows a lot more magic than just her shadow magic and given how strong the Lady’s shadow powers were at her WEAKEST, I can’t even comprehend how powerful they would have been at her STRONGEST.

And the thing is, we sort of get a small hint of how powerful the Lady is on the average day. Because the Ferryman, an entity that’s implied to be close or equal to the North Wind in power, willingly works for her. Implying that the Lady is close or equal in power to THE NORTH WIND AT LEAST.

[non-operator]

ajklsdjfalksdjflkjasdklfjAFJKLSDJFLKAJSDFLKAJSELKFDJ literally so happy about the new cinematic. Got to see my babygirl on screen 🥰

more thoughts under

but lorewise, I don't think we were given the hourglass organization's name yet? So I'll just be calling it Hourglass. From what I understood, Omen was sent to kill Viper/Sabine in order to "safeguard [their] secrets" and "keep the discovery of radianite from a world that wasn't ready". So presumably, Sabine had just discovered radianite and started messing with it; considering that her poison abilities are disabled when hit by Kay0's knife, she probably made her poison agent from radianite?

Then it must mean that Omen failing to assassinate her revealed radianite to the world, which was not what Hourglass wanted. This also means that Hourglass has known about radianite for a while, at least before the larger populace have known about it; it was one of the "secrets" that Omen used to safeguard. What were they even doing with it? And this organization must've been very powerful to keep the mining of such a resource a secret for so long.

But from the way the boss said "you became one of *them*", it looks like Hourglass doesn't look too kindly on radiants? Or at least separates humans from radiants. Or perhaps the "them" in question does not refer to radiants, but to Valorant Protocol. But if it's the former, was Hourglass trying to limit access to radianite in order to keep radiant population low (on top of having a monopoly of the world's biggest energy source ig)? Or if it's the former, they clearly have beef with VP did Hourglass already have a run-in with Valorant before somehow? But when Omen/Shrouded Step went after Sabine, it seems clear she was still working for Kingdom at the time; do they think Omen is working for Kingdom?

Next point: it doesn't look like the boss died? It could be them trying to keep gore/blood off-screen by not showing him splatter on the ground, but it kind of just looks like he vanishes before he even hits the ground? He also didn't seem too worried about falling, so maybe he knew he had an out? I don't think I heard a thud either, so I feel like we might see him again? Like, wild guess, but is the boss Thurston Wolf...? The developers/writers said that Breeze was a place of interest because of its connection to this Wolf guy and not because of radianite supply (or at least I think that's what was said). As far as I know, we haven't heard more about Thurston Wolf and the boss seems like the only person who seems important but also without a name to maybe be him?

[pretty-face-breaker]

can i give hayko a hug :(

c.w. whumpees on the run, touch aversion, implied recent torture, sudden (temporary) mutism

They drove for two hours from Chicago. No rest stops or stops to stretch their legs, Vladimir kept a pace that just bordered on breaking traffic laws but kept them inconspicuous enough. 

Right about then, while Hayko drifted, staring dead-eyed at the passing road, Vladimir’s only fear was being pulled over. 

They stopped in South Haven for nothing more than a utilitarian trip in and out of a truck stop. It let Hayko grab two waters, paying in cash while they affected boredom with the cashier, covering up the frantic energy threatening to spill from their seams. 

The blood under Vladimir’s fingernails had long since dried and he hid the flaking by shoving them in his windbreaker. Hayko couldn’t hide his condition as clearly, hunching from where some nameless weapon had wrecked him the night before.

He hadn’t mentioned it, hadn’t said a word since they high-tailed it out of Nick’s cabin.

Nick would be monitoring their transactions. Vladimir didn’t know if he had woken up, whether he would ever wake up - the blow had been solid enough for a seizure. Hemorrhaging. Anything, really, to slow him down. 

Another three hours to Waterford.

Nobody followed them. 

Hayko still said nothing but Vladimir could read the tension in his brow, shoulders, knuckles - everywhere, really. Every few minutes, he would exhale sharply as if just then coming back to himself and Vlad’s gaze would snap to the passenger seat and breathe in tandem, asking “Khorosho? Hayko, khorosho?” 

And Hayko would jerk his chin down and drift. Again and again. Vladimir didn’t want to think about what punishment Nick had chosen for the attempt to flee. What was worse was that Hayko gave no indication of the pain, sitting rigidly curled in on himself, gray-faced, holding his shaking arms across his stomach as if keeping in his viscera. As if a single breath would bring the sky down onto them. 

He had tried to pull him to his chest, put his arms around him and ground him, but Hayko had flinched back so violently to him reaching out that Vladimir had smothered the impulse. 

He felt his stomach roil but said nothing.

-

By the time they reached Port Huron, it had been roughly eight hours. Eight hours away was safe, Vladimir thought, or maybe the press of exhaustion made it seem safer than it was. The motel left nothing to be desired because it was small enough to be a pin in the otherwise massive continent and maybe Nick’s reptile fucking eyes might miss it.

If he were still alive. 

Vladimir prayed for his death like he might for supplication. 

They stayed overnight, taking turns in the shower and eating what meager supplies Vladimir had found in the truck they had stolen, a few miles from the cabin - a miracle it had worked at all. It would have been impulsive, hotwiring Nick’s car as there was no doubt that it had a tracker. 

As Vladimir had gotten out of the shower in the morning, he had found Hayko, white in the face and trembling, holding his Blackberry to his ear as a low, droning voice finished speaking on the other end. He looked as if he might be sick, letting his hand drop to the sheets. Vladimir thought he might have been, too.

It had taken them less than five minutes to grab everything and check out, pulling out of the inn before it could strike seven in the morning. 

He had wanted to hold him then, calm his hyperventilation, as unwelcome as it might have been. Hayko must have recognized the desire to reach out and had retreated further in as a response. 

Not dead, then, Vladimir thought grimly. Of course, he wouldn’t be. That wouldn’t be nearly a glorious enough end for the pitiless shadow that was Nick Sinclair. 

He held a conviction that even if Nick had died, parts of him would have followed them. Maybe, he would have found them faster.

-

They were supposed to stop in High Park, some three hours after their hasty retreat from the Huron motel, but Hayko’s hand had shot out when Vladimir went to unbuckle, grabbed his wrist like a vice, and shook his head once. 

“Chto?” What is it? What are you stopping me for? What has he done to you to make you retreat into yourself? 

What are the chances we get out of this alive? 

Hayko had shook his head again, firmly. They had continued to Kingston, Ontario. 

At least he had touched him first. The urge to hold Hayko still gripped him.

-

Montreal was the final stop. Hayko had taken over driving since Kingston, expression inscrutable and silent as they crawled through the city. Vladimir thought it might have breathed, inspiring them to breathe with it, but everything was submerged in such unnatural stillness that he felt watched by the city. 

Two prowlers, fleeing destruction, leaving shards of their past across states and now across provinces. They were practically inviting chaos, dooming centuries of history and the Notre-Dame Basilica and the shores of the St. Lawrence River. 

They stopped tightly against the final motel, run-down enough to satisfy them both, checked in, and all but collapsed into unconsciousness. Hayko had abandoned his phone hours ago so no need to worry about late-night warnings from monsters, states away, preparing to find them both.

They would ruminate on that when they had to.

-

Sometime, in the early hours of the morning, Hayko had jerked awake and thrashed, swinging blindly and flexing his throat in an attempt to scream. Whether it had been for help or mercy, Vladimir didn’t know. 

He had held him then, tentatively, but he had held him. He had shushed him, tense though he remained for some time. He had felt him relax in increments as he repeated their time and location and intentions in Russian, telling him that they were safe, that the cracks were sealed. 

It had taken far too long for Hayko to drift off again, throat tight and eyes burning but Vladimir had held him throughout the night. 

He hadn’t slept but felt a mutated sense of safety - the first in years.

-

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