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crosshairlovebot · 1 year ago

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falling for mr. batchbury (part two) / hunter x f!reader

pairing: hunter x f!reader

description: your long-awaited reunion with mr. batchbury has finally come, and so do you.

REGENCY AU

word count: 8,107

warnings: NSFW 18+ explicit sexual content. loss of vriginity (f). p in v s*x. oral s*x (f receiving). lots of kissing. handj*bs. biting. unprotected s*x. cr*ampie. outdoor s*x. partly clothed s*x. religious comparions.

thank you so much for your support on part one.!! the regency hunter/bad batch art that has come from this has been amazing to see i love it so much!! i got v carried away but i enjoyed writing this sm, so i hope you enjoy reading it <3

also posted on ao3. feedback is welcomed, reblogs are appreciated. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

PART TWO

According to his letters, Mr. Hugo Batchbury earned the nickname “Hunter” due to his uncanny ability to seek out enemy ships and find hidden encampments during the war. You had always known his senses to be more attuned than a normal person, so it seemed fitting for him. And it was why you ventured into your estate’s gardens, knowing he’d be able to find you with ease.

You hurried down the stone steps, lifting the skirt of your gown so you wouldn’t trip as you left the din of the ball behind you.

The ball had been to celebrate your father’s return from war. Of course, that meant the Batchbury Brothers had also returned, each with a nickname of their own. William had come to be known as ‘Wrecker’ due to his enthusiasm with the ship's cannons. Thomas became ‘Tech’ as his knowledge of engineering and other contraptions was second to none. Carlisle’s superior aim with a pistol had bestowed him with the name ‘Crosshair’. You had read it all in Mr. Batchbury’s letters, which were frequent enough that missing him was only agonising, not excruciating.

In the years that passed while they were at sea, writing was the only comfort you had – and knowing they served under your father who was a master at his profession. Your heart raced when the footman brought in the post and there was a letter from Mr. Batchbury. Usually, he would write two – one for you and one for Meg.

His letters to you varied, sometimes they told you of what he’d been doing, sometimes they held a tale from the decks of the ship, some mischief played as they rode the waves. But each contained his voice through written script, the words of the sentences so familiar you could hear them in his voice as you read.

You fell more in love with him through his letters, and he with you. Each one he sent would always detail his love for you, his eagerness to come home and love you at a nearer distance, his wish to marry you when he returned. It all sent thrills and pangs through you.

My thoughts of you only seem to increase the longer we are apart, he’d once written. My sketchbook has run out of pages, and until I can find a new one to fill, I draw your face in my dreams.

Your entire being longed to be with him.

You would write to him too, but the time between letters being sent and arriving for both of you seemed to grow more extensive as the months and years went on.

What was it they said, absence makes the heart grow fonder? Well, your heart's fondness for Mr. Batchbury was so strong it ached. You even requested he send you a self-portrait, just so you could see him face. He’d given it in his next letter – his face so beautifully etched in charcoal, his brow strong over intense black circles of eyes, the curve of his jaw shaded with his birthmark. You had to be careful you didn’t drop tears on it when you gazed upon it.

Meg missed him too – she missed all her brothers dearly, and she followed the papers diligently for news, thrumming with excitement when she received a letter from any of them. She had grown so much in the years that had past. Now eighteen, she had matured into a young lady; she was kind, compassionate and amiable. She was as tall as her brothers and seemed to have absorbed all their best traits too, even if they were far away.

You had been with her as she watched from the window, waiting for their carriage to arrive the afternoon just gone. She bounced on her toes in excitement while you sat on the lounge nearby, just as excited but simultaneously so anxious to see Mr. Batchbury you felt like you might be ill.

What if he saw you and you were not as he remembered? Or what if he saw you and his feelings for you were merely spurred by distance, and now were non-existent? You knew his heart to be mountainous, but mountains did fall victim to erosion when weathered by strong winds.

When you heard Meg squeal, you had jumped from your thoughts. “They’re here! They’re back! They’re here!”

She raced from the room, and you gaped for a moment before following her, your footsteps just as quick. Despite your anxieties, you were still desperate to see him.

And you father, too. You couldn’t forget about him.

You followed her outside and watched as Meg skidded to a stop as the carriage slowed and the horses stilled. The carriage door was thrown open as William– Wrecker emerged. You knew it was him from his build. He guffawed as he wrapped his arms around Meg, lifting her up and spinning her. You heard Meg laugh as you approached.

You realised Wrecker now sported an impressive scar from his ear and across one side of his face, an eye patch covering one eye, his head completely shaved. The other brothers filed out of the carriage, Thomas– Tech had a limp and now held a cane on his left side, Carlisle– Crosshair had a burn scar on one side of his head, the same side as the smattering of port wine that splashed over his right eye. He also had a wooden attachment on one hand to replace one he had evidently lost.

They each had been changed by their time at war, but they still gathered Meg into their arms, their love for their sister eternal.

Your breath hitched when you saw Mr. Batchbury– Hunter move down the carriage steps, his boots crunching on the gravel.

His hair was longer, and the bandana had changed from bright red to a rich colour that matched his port wine birthmark, but apart from that it was as if no time had passed. How was it possible he looked exactly the same? In fact, he looked even more handsome, as if the time spent in the sea air had not weathered him, but ripened his beauty.

You watched as he held his arms out for Meg, who jumped into them. He smiled into her neck, arms wrapping around her tightly, squeezing. You heard Meg begin to cry into her older brother’s shoulders, her own shaking. Your heart squeezed for her.

Though her brothers were everything to her, there was something different about her bond with Hunter. He was more than her brother, he was her guardian too, the one she always turned to, the one who had taken her in and cared for her no questions asked. Hunter was Meg’s mountain, and being without him had been harder on her than she liked to admit. Hunter soothed her with gentle shushes, one of his hands running up and down her back.

“It’s alright, Meg. I’m here now,” you heard him console her gently. “I’m not going anywhere ever again.”

You felt your eyes sting with tears at the heartfelt reunion. They pulled away, and you watched Hunter wipe away his sister’s tears with the pad of his thumb, a smile matching his misty eyes. You watched his hands grab hers as he took a step back, seeing her stand at his height.

“You’re so big now,” his voice cracked.

Meg laughed lightly, wiping her eyes. “You missed a lot.”

“Too much.” Hunter shook his head. “Never again.”

“Never,” Meg agreed.

“Hey!” Wrecker’s loud voice boomed when he spotted you. “Look who it is!”

You held your breath as Hunter’s eyes landed on yours. You watched the way his eyes and shoulders softened, his mouth parted. You watched his mouth turn up at the side, and the stain on his cheek darken at the sight of you. It appeared his penchant to flush at the sight of you had not changed either.

You flushed. Why had you even been worried again?

You cleared you throat and took a step forward. “The Batchbury Brothers have returned.”

“You bet!” Wrecker cheered. “And in one piece!”

“Speak for yourself,” Crosshair sneered, his remaining hand gripping the wrist of his prosthetic.

“We are, mostly, unharmed,” Tech adjusted his glasses with his free hand. “Hunter is the only one of us to remain unscathed.”

Hunter sighed and shook his head. “We all survived. That’s what matters.”

“And we’re rich!” Wrecker laughed proudly.

“I heard about your acquisition of prizemoney,” you said. “Congratulations. It is a great accomplishment for you all.”

“It gives us many opportunities now,” Hunter said carefully, meeting your eyes knowingly. You felt your heartbeat pick up.

Did he…mean…?

You felt your expression lift as you gazed at him hopefully, and you watched his birthmark darken again as he smiled softly at you. The smile conveyed all the love he held for you, steadfast and immovable even after five years, even through a war. Your heart squeezed and you felt as though you might faint.

He did mean that.

“Is my father on his way?” you inquired, slightly breathless as his words danced around your head, the realisation so fanciful it hardly seemed real.

Hunter nodded. “He said he had some paperwork to drop off in London, but he should arrive by this evening.”

“Wonderful,” you breathed, smiling at him with what you hoped conveyed the same amount of love, if not more.

Now, under the cover of the moon and the ball long behind you, you raced through the maze to the centre of it; the very maze where your love for each other had blossomed. You were breathless, and you could feel the bones of your tight corset cutting into your ribs, but you didn’t care.

He would be here soon.

“Hey,” you heard his smoky tenor from behind you. You whirled around to see him standing there, holding a lantern he had taken from the courtyard adjacent to the ballroom. Along with a grey waistcoat, he wore his newly tailored dresscoat, black with some red embroidery stitched into the cuffs and collar. His black boots glistened in the light of the moon, and in lieu of his bandana, he wore a red cravat instead.

He looked dashing.

“Mr. Batchbury,” you breathed as you took in the sight fo him.

How was it fair that he looked beautiful in all lights?

He chuckled. “Are we still using such formalities?”

You were unable to hide your smile. “What shall I call you then? ‘Hunter’?” you teased lightly.

You watched as he inhaled sharply, hands that were once relaxed now clenched. “Yes,” he rasped, his eyes never strayed from you. “Hunter is perfect.”

“Very well…Hunter,” you smiled. You liked the way it sounded on your tongue, and Hunter seemed to as well, returning a closed-mouth smile at you as he continued to gaze longingly at you. Your face felt hot as you fiddled with your fingers awkwardly. The moment of silence passed through you both. You looked at him before tittering nervously. Hunter cocked his head.

“What is it?”

“All these years, I thought I would be gushing with things to say, but words have seemed to escape me,” you joked.

Hunter chuckled, a hearty sound, and walked towards you slowly with the lantern before setting it down on the stone bench beside you both. Now, in the dim orange glow, you were close enough to see those familiar brown-grey eyes, unchanged despite the time that passed.

“It’s been a long time. Far too long,” he murmured, eyes travelling across your face like a caress. You swallowed, flustered by his attentions.

You wished you were more articulate, but you had missed him so much, it was taking everything in you not to just kiss him, to instead prelude such a thing with pleasantries so it would not be so forward. It had been a long time, and you had only a few hours together where you knew of each others feelings before he left. This whole thing was unfamiliar territory for you. You knew how to be in love with him from afar, from across an ocean, but had no idea how to do it in such close proximity.

“You look well,” you said. It was a severe understatement.

“You look beautiful,” Hunter told you earnestly, his fingertips gently nudged your hands and you let them latch around yours. Your breath hitched as you felt his warm touch against your hands as he held them assuredly, his thumb drawing circles over the back of your hand. “My sketches and my memory did not do you justice.”

You felt butterflies take flight inside you. “I was worried about this part,” you breathed, too overwhelmed to think about the words that now seemed to fly out of you with no hesitation.

Hunter looked genuinely confused. “Why?”

You swallowed again and averted your eyes, focusing on the concrete next to you. “Because I hoped I would still be what you desired, after half a decade.”

Hunter tilted his head as he moved into your eyeline, forcing you to meet his eye as you both lifted your heads again. His brow was furrowed as he tried to understand. “How could you think I would no longer desire you? Did you not read my letters?”

“I did but…things can change,” you told him quietly.

Hunter’s frown deepened and he searched your face before he shook his head. He let go of one of your hands so he could cup the hinge of your jaw, the pad of his thumb gently caressing your cheekbone, his words quiet but sure.

“Not this,” he told you. “Never this.”

Your heart squeezed. He was not real. He could not be. You loved him so much you thought you might collapse, knees buckling because of how much it consumed you. You leaned into his hand and closed your eyes, breathing in deeply at how nice it was to hear such a thing. To know his heart remained as mountainous as it was when he left. When you opened your eyes again, you saw his brow was drawn together, his lips pressed together. You needed them on yours desperately.

“No,” you agreed, breathless.

You tilted your chin up a little, gaze falling to his lips, a silent begging for him to kiss you. You watched his eyes move to your lips and his words came out as he stared at them.

“I have something…I need to ask you,” he said slowly, like he was nervous, like he was reciting words he had practised. You felt your whole body ignite. He met your eyes once again. “I suspect you know what it is?”

“Yes,” you nodded, your voice barely above a whisper in disbelief. You knew what he was going to ask, and yet you felt yourself thrum with anticipation for hearing the words out loud. “I waited,” you told him.

Hunter nodded, a mirthful smile on his face, like he could hardly believe it either. “You waited.”

You smiled and you both gazed at each other. The warm glow of the lamp lit the side of his face untouched by his birthmark, and the ballroom felt like it was on a different planet, it was so far away. Only the stars were your witnesses above you, glowing dots painting the sky. His hands were warm on you, tethering you to him. It was just the two of you, in the maze – where you both began, and evidently, would be where you continued to be together.

“Marry me.” His husky voice spoke in the space between you, and those two little words made your heartbeat race and your stomach flip over. “Please. I…adore you. It would be my greatest honour to be wed to you.”

Tears of joy stung your eyes, and you unleashed an unbridled smile that you did not dare hold back. You nodded your head quickly, eager to tell him your answer, which you need not take time to consider, you’d had five years after all.

“Yes,” you laughed. “Yes, I will marry you.”

You watched Hunter’s face light up, joy stretching his mouth wide and squishing part of his port wine stain into a triangle on his cheek. He laughed happily as he brought his other hand to your face and pulled you in for your first kiss in five years.

Your hands moved to clutch his lapels as you kissed him back. You had dreamed of kissing him again, and it felt surreal to finally be doing it. His mouth was still as hot, gentle and coaxing as you remember, and you felt yourself pressing into him as he slanted his mouth over yours. You couldn’t stop smiling though, your mouth tipping up involuntarily with your immeasurable happiness as you kissed him. In response, Hunter’s mouth did the same, chuckling before he pulled back. He shook his head and kissed you chastely before he spoke again.

“In the morning, we’ll find the vicar. I don’t want to wait,” he said, his voice hoarse but full of conviction.

“Neither do I,” you agreed, watching the way the moon illuminated his curls.

“It’s been long enough. To be apart from you for any longer,” he pressed his forehead into yours. “It would be agony.”

“I cannot be without you another moment,” you told him before bringing his lips down to yours again. Hunter groaned as he kissed you, his hands travelling down towards your waist as he pulled you flush against him. You moved your hands to the nape of his neck, fisting the hair there. Hunter groaned again before he wrenched himself back, breathless. Apparently, he still had things to say. Could they not wait? You had struggled with words before, why did he want to say them now when there was kissing to do?

“Your father cannot disapprove of me.” he rushed out, like he was telling himself, reassuring himself. “I am no longer poor. He will let us marry.”

You smiled softly at him. All this doubt he had held, all these thoughts and apprehensions that had held him back before, they no longer existed. There was no war to fight, he was no longer destitute, Meg was well and he’d already set up a trust for her. His brothers were safe. And so was he. Everything had been taken care of. Hunter could finally allow himself to have something that he wanted. Something completely his own that did not require anyone’s opinion or approval. He had been a mountain for everyone, and now the storm had passed, the sun shone on his heart and there was no need to be worried about his family.

Though none of it had been a burden to him, Hunter could finally breathe, and he wanted to fill his lungs with you.

You brushed some hair off his forehead. “Even if he did disapprove, I would marry you anyway. I am yours, in whatever circumstance. I always have been.”

Hunter smiled, his expression soft and full of adoration. “I love you.”

“I love you,” you told him moments before Hunter brought his lips back to yours.

Hunter wrapped his arms around you and made a soft sound as you pressed into him. You felt his mouth guide yours open, and you let him, trusting him implicitly as he gently moved his tongue against yours.

You hadn’t kissed him like this before, but the hot wet of his mouth was obscenely wonderful and you were quickly obsessed with how it felt. You tried to stroke your tongue against his in the same motions and felt him moan into your mouth.

“Heavens above,” you felt him mumble as he dragged his mouth away from yours, moving it down your neck as he left open-mouthed kisses across your skin. You tilted your head back, mouth open as you caught your breath, overcome with the feel of his mouth on places you had only read about. You felt between your legs begin to get hot as you cradled his head to your neck, and when you felt him nip at your collarbone, you to let out a high-pitched cry. You were sure you were going to collapse any second.

“Hunter…” you panted.

Hunter moved across your collarbone, kissing the swallow of your neck as he did. His hands moved from your waist to hold your ass, his palms squeezing there. Your chest rose and fell rapidly as you watched him move down towards the swell of your breast which spilled up the neckline of your gown, pressed by your corset.

He kissed the crease between them. “My love, if you will permit me.”

“Do whatever you wish with me,” you hastened to say, desperate for him not to stop.

Hunter did not need to be told twice before he kissed along the neckline, the soft flesh of your breasts meeting his lips. You mewled as his tongue lulled out and licked, before his teeth sunk into them.

“Hunter!” you moaned, head falling back.

You felt his hot breath on your now wet skin. He pulled away with a groan.

“My love, can I…can I please?” Hunter looked at you.

You blinked, trying to remember how to speak. “Can you what?”

“Can I feel you there? I fear I will perish if I do not,” he begged, eyes pleading like if you refused him, he might actually fall apart.

“I told you, do whatever you wish with me.”

A low sound came from the back of Hunter’s throat as he lowered to his knees in front of you. “Sit down on the bench.”

You followed his instruction and then he bunched up your gown before placing a hand between your legs. When you felt his fingers brush against your extremely wet folds, you whimpered and he groaned, a guttural sound that travelled right to your centre.

“Oh, Christ, you’re fucking drenched,” he rasped, moving his fingers against your seam. You panted, clutching his shoulder as pleasure travelled like lightning through your entire body. “And this is all for me.”

“All yours,” you whispered.

Hunter groaned again and pulled his fingers away. You whined at the loss of touch and then watched as he placed his fingers, wet with your slick, into his mouth. You whimpered as he moaned, his eyes closing as he tasted you.

“God, you’re heavenly.”

“Hunter,” you said breathlessly.

He wet his lips. “Can I taste more?”

“Stop asking and just do it,” you said quickly.

Hunter moved under your gown and you slid towards the edge of the bench a little more, hands gripping the stone as you felt his breath on your pussy. You cried out loudly when the flat of his tongue licked up your folds. The sensation was obscene and you felt like you were ascending when you felt his mouth move on you. You shuddered, indecent sounds coming from you as he licked and sucked, tongue moving across your most intimate part. You said his name like a chant as he moved his mouth and tongue expertly, his arms encircled your thighs, forefingers toying with the edge of your stocking, and you felt his moan vibrate against you.

“Hunter,” you strangled out, the sensations moving through you taking away your ability to utter anything but his name.

He placed your knees over his shoulders and continued to move his mouth on you. Your grip on the stone bench tightened as you leaned back at a new angle, your nails digging into the grains of the rock as you panted, the pleasure blooming inside you so heavenly you could barely put words to it.

Hunter’s tongue moved through your folds before he sucked on the small nub there. You jerked, yelping as he run his tongue over it, gently sucking as he continued to pull pleasure from you. You whined as he artfully moved his mouth over you. How was he so good at this?

You had only read about such things in novels, the descriptions making you blush and tingle all at once as you imagined what it would be like to experience it. You had experimented on your own, of course, too curious to wait until Hunter had returned home to feel the pleasure the heroines felt in your novels. But nothing you did to yourself felt as good as this.

You clenched your knees around his head and felt your body begin to shudder as the familiar coils of heat began to build in your stomach, but this time more intense than what you’d felt on your own.

“Hunter,” you told him breathlessly, intending to say more but the words felt like they were floating in a mist above you, and every time you tried to grasp them, they alluded you. “I’m–”

You heard him groan under your skirts, voice muffled between your thighs and under the silks. “Let go.”

You felt his tongue flick that nub, his hands on your thighs tightening as he performed one last ministration that caused that pleasure to erupt from you. You cried out, hands clutching the bench so hard you thought there might be indents in the stone as you came apart on his tongue. Your legs shook and your chest heaved as you moaned and whined, head thrown back as Hunter’s tongue lapped at you. You weren’t sure if the stars above you were real, or ones he had made you see.

As the pleasure waned and your body’s aftershocks slowed, you felt Hunter remove your legs from his shoulders and he fumbled with your skirts as he re-emerged. His curls were a mess, and the port wine stain on his cheek was flushed a deep purple from the heat of being under your skirts. He panted, his mouth glistening with your slick, but his eyes were bright, invigorated, like performing cunnilingus on you had energised him. He licked his lips and smiled lovingly at you.

“Amazing,” he told you, his tone awed. “Is that the first time you’ve come?”

You felt heat rise up your neck. “No.”

Hunter’s eyes widened in surprise. “No?”

“Well, I got very tired of waiting for you.” You shrugged innocently despite your face flaming. “I had to take matters into my own hands.”

“Christ,” he said, the words scratching out of his throat roughly. “Are you serious?”

You met his pleading eyes. “Yes.”

Hunter buried his head in your lap and groaned. “I can’t believe I had to stay away so long.”

“Never again.”

“Never again.” He leaned up and kissed you languidly, and you could taste yourself on his lips.

He stayed kneeling on one knee between your legs, your skirts bunched up to your hips as he kissed you, his hands moving up your body back to your breasts. You gasped when his fingers curled around the neckline of your bodice, fingertips brushing the swell of your breast, skin burning.

“Can I take this off?” He tugged on the edge of the neckline. “Please.”

“Yes. Yes, please,” you practically begged him.

You felt his hands go to the ties at the back of your dress, and he deftly tugged them loose as he brought his mouth to yours again. You felt the fabric of your dress loosen before he retreated to pull the dress off from the front, moving it down your arms. You watched as Hunter rumpled the fabric and threw it to the side so it was out of the way.

You were glad the night was warm, now that you were only in your corset over your chemise and stockings. You watched the garment fall to the ground as Hunter let out a growl of frustration.

“Why are there so many layers? I need more of your skin on my mouth,” he grumbled. You giggled as he started to unlace your corset.

“What is it they say? Patience is a virtue?”

“I’ve never been virtuous and I’m not about to start now,” Hunter rasped as he opened your corset, your breasts falling to their natural position under your chemise as they were no longer held up by your stays. You let out a breath of comfort.

Hunter smiled ruefully. “Better? How tight did your maid tie you up?”

“Tighter than usual. I had someone to impress.”

Hunter grinned and kissed your breasts through the thin cotton, your nipples tightening and pointing through the fabric. “I’m always impressed by you.”

You smiled and kissed him once more before pulling away. “It hardly seems fair that I’m almost indecent while you’re basically fully dressed.

Hunter laughed heartily, a sound that made your chest squeeze. He kept smiling at you, still on one knee between your legs as he pulled off his coat, bunching it up and throwing it into a pile with your dress. He pulled off his cravat roughly and started to unbutton his waistcoat when your hands reached out to stop him.

“Let me,” you told him quietly and your fingers brushed his. You started undoing the buttons of his waistcoat, quiet between you. You felt his eyes on you as you unbuttoned and when you looked up to slide the garment off his shoulders, he was gazing at you with this look you couldn’t decipher. Perhaps it was adoration.

You threw the waistcoat on the pile and Hunter was only left in his shirt, breeches and his boots. You smiled as you ran a hand slowly down the neckline of his shirt, your fingers touching his sternum and the nest of dark curly hair there. You remember watching him train in this years ago, and now here you were.

You met his eyes and watched his eyes smile at you, softening at the sides as he started to untuck his shirt and unbutton it, his eyes never leaving your face.

You watched, mesmerised as Hunter shrugged the shirt off and revealed his bare chest. You took in a breath as you realised how muscular and broad he was. The tendons of his shoulders and collarbones were taut and strong, and his stomach flat except for the raised muscles in a six formation. His hair extended across the expanse of his chest and down into his breeches, but what surprised you the most was the port wine stain that appeared on his face also travelled down his torso, painting one side of his chest a beautiful burgundy across his brown skin. You traced your fingers across the outline and watched the way he shivered under your touch, goosebumps erupting across his skin. He was sculpted by the Gods; Michaelangelo had surely modelled the statue of David from him.

“You’re beautiful,” you breathed, fingers trailing down his chest before you met his eyes, a small smile tugging the corners of your lips.

Hunter’s eyes widened for a moment at your declaration before his lips twitched, like they itched to smile. He placed his hands on the sides of your thighs, the thin cotton a poor barrier for the heat of his hands as he rubbed circles into your skin.

“You think so?” he replied quietly, like he didn’t quite believe you.

“Yes,” you told him, your smile turning big. “Heavenly. That’s what you are.”

Hunter studied for face, his expression pensive before he spoke.

“I’ve heard people say this–” his fingers skimmed his face and down his chest, knocking yours, “–is the mark of the devil.”

You frowned. “Who said that?”

“People. When we were children. I…faced ridicule. And in turn, it marked my brothers. It got worse when Crosshair was born, and the stain across his eye became known. We were outcasts already, but this made it worse.”

Your heart broke thinking of Hunter as a child, facing ridicule for something he could not control, for something that made him unique. If he was protective over his family now, you could only imagine back then. What a silly superstition. How could anyone look at Hunter, see how he was with his family and with others, and think he was anything but an angel? No mark upon his face should dictate who he was.

You shook your head and pressed your hand against the centre of his chest, right above his heart. You felt it beat steadily under your palm, the rhythm matching yours. You met his eyes.

“They could not be more wrong,” you told him softly in earnest.

You felt his heartbeat speed up underneath your palm, making you smile. You watched an expression pass through his face. Was it relief? You felt his hands on your thighs squeeze before he captured the hand that lay on his chest between both of his and kissed your palm softly.

“That’s…very nice to hear.” You heard his voice break a little as he spoke, his mouth pulling into a sincere smile that conveyed so much love, you felt you might burst with it.

Hunter leaned in and captured your lips in his once more, this kiss slow and passionate as it told you without words the depth of his feelings for you. You pulled him closer as you deepened the kiss. You let him drape your arms around his neck, and he shifted so his hands grabbed your hips. He pulled away only for a moment, his lips murmuring into yours.

“‘M gonna switch us,” he mumbled. You only nodded, and a laugh rippled from you as Hunter hoisted your body against his. You instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist as he swiftly switched your places, so he sat on the bench and you straddled his lap. Hunter pulled you in so your centre was pressed against the ties of his breeches. It was a scandalous feeling that flowed through you as felt Hunter’s bulge against you. You gasped as he let out a strangled sound. You pulled back to look at him, a mix of an amused and tortured smile on his face as he looked up at you.

“Oh, I like this position,” you told him.

“Yeah? Me too,” he said and buried his head in your neck, kissing there as he pulled your body against his again, rocking you into the hardness of him through the cotton of your chemise. You moaned, feeling your folds slick again, despite only coming a mere five minutes ago.

“Hunter, I need you,” you told him.

Hunter groaned into your collarbone. “I need you too. I’m out of patience.”

You felt him shift his hold on you, so one hand held you at the small of your back and kept you from sliding off him, and the other quickly untied the fastenings of his breeches and shifted them down slightly. You slid a hand down between you, fingers knocking against his as you felt his cock spring up against his stomach. You gasped when your fingertips brushed his length, the skin hot and hard. He groaned and wrapped his hand around your wrist.

“Please.” His voice practically trembled.

You looked at him and watched the way his eyebrows had slanted down at the ends, his mouth parted. You slowly grazed your fingernails against his length and he jerked underneath you.

“Christ,” he panted.

You wrapped your hand around his length, the way you’d read about, and you heard him groan. Both his hands went to your back, clutching the gaping fabric of your chemise. The way he was reacting only made your stomach tighten and your folds flood with wetness. And you’d barely touched him.

You looked down between you and saw the head of his cock had pooled with precum already. You circled your thumb over the small slit there, coating it and Hunter hissed, head burying in your neck and teeth biting the meat of your shoulder. You moaned, heat running through you. The hilt of his cock was nestled with dark curls and you shifted your hand down and up. Hunter cried out, head falling back as he looked at you, eyes bleary.

“My love, I’m so worked up right now, I will not last if you keep doing that.”

“What?” You feigned innocence. “This?”

You moved your hand again the same way, squeezing a little this time, and Hunter’s eyes screwed shut as he yelped again, shifting your body closer to his. Your centre chaffed against your chemise which rubbed against his cock.

“Christ.” His neck strained before he reached up and smoothed a hand over your hair. “I need to be inside you.”

Nerves and excitement fluttered through you at his words. You had read about such things, of course, and had wanted so badly to experience sex with Hunter, but now being presented with the very situation you had dreamed of happening with Hunter filled you with uncertainty. You wanted this to go right, for him to enjoy himself with you.

“I need that too,” you told him.

“It…It might hurt a little at first,” he said, hand smoothing your hair again. “We’ll go slow. And you tell me to stop and I will.”

You smiled at his concern, his care. “I trust you.”

Hunter smiled at you and pulled you in for a lingering kiss before he pulled away. “Lift up for me, sweet girl.”

You placed your hands on his shoulders and raised yourself on your knees, the stone bench beneath them digging in a little as butterflies swooped in your stomach. Hunter lifted you against him, hands under your thighs as he moved you both to the ground.

“Next time we do this, it will be in a bed,” he told you, his voice light with mild annoyance. You laughed as he lay you back against the pile of clothes you had created, a makeshift mattress out under the stars.

You looked at him as he leaned over you, body in between your legs, dark curls falling over his shoulders and hanging down. The lantern by the bench provided a warm orange glow, but the moon did most of the work, lighting up his hooked nose and gorgeous face. With the stars behind him, you placed his hair behind his ear with a smile, in awe of him.

“What is it?” he asked, mouth lifting into a smile. You felt the lines of his smile stretch under your hand on his cheek.

“I love you,” you told him simply because it explained everything.

He smiled, and you felt his skin heat before he bent to kiss you once more. He kissed you deeply, tongue sliding against yours before he pulled back. His eyes stayed on you, a soft reassuring expression as he bunched your chemise around your hips, spread your legs so you were completely open to him and positioned himself. Your heartbeat quickened as you felt him at your entrance.

“Are you ready, my love?” he asked, his voice as soft as his eyes.

You let out a shaky breath before nodding and biting your lip.

Hunter nodded and in a hushed voice, told you to try and relax as he slowly pushed in. He moaned, face screwed as he sunk himself inside you, hands tightening on your hips. Despite your slickness, the stretch caused some pain to bolt through you and you hissed, your hands curling around his forearms.

Hunter immediately stopped, eyes flying open as he looked down at you with concern. “Are you okay?”

You nodded and took a breath. “Keep going.”

Hunter watched your expression as he slowly moved further in until he was fully seated inside you. You screwed your eyes shut, fingernails digging into his arms, and you felt one of his hands rub up and down your thighs as you adjusted to the feel of him inside you. It was full feeling, but not overly uncomfortable. The books you’d read glossed over this part.

You felt embarrassed, waiting a moment for your body to be okay to keep going and opened your eyes as you rushed to say, “I’m sorry, I’m just–”

“Hush,” Hunter told you, silencing you gently, his expression soft. “We have all the time in the world.”

You let out a breath before he continued, mouth tipping up at the side. “Though the way you’re squeezing me…”

You grinned, a laugh bubbling out of you. “Good?”

“Incredible,” Hunter sighed.

You both laughed together like it was the most natural thing in the world. Hunter brushed some strands of hair back as he looked down at you and you felt yourself and your anxieties ease. He was so incredibly special.

You shifted underneath him as your body had grown used to him. “I think you can move now.”

“Nice and slow,” he confirmed with you.

Both you and Hunter made sounds of pleasure as he started to rock into you, pulling out a little before moving back in, the movement becoming more fluid and easy as he kept going. Hunter’s grip on your hips guided the movements, and you moaned as the nub of your folds bumped against him.

“Christ, you’re so pretty like this,” he told you as you moved your hips against him to match his thrusts. “Can’t believe you’re mine.”

He bent to kiss you once more as he slid inside you again. His hips rolled into yours in easy languid motions, his cock moving in and out of you. You moaned, fingers clawing his back as he began to quicken his movements, thrusts now steady and hard as the pleasure built inside you. You stockinged legs coming up and sliding around his waist, one ankle pushing in at the small of his back to pull him in deeper.

Sex with Hunter was much better than anything you had ever read, better than your own fingers. His thrusts confident yet never painful, his hands firm but never hurting. The sensation of his cock sliding in and out of you was unbelievable, and you were so glad you were able to experience such a thing with him. That he survived the war, and your love for each other had endured. And now, under the stars, he took you in a way that showed all his love for you.

You’d both been patient for this, and he may have said he had never been virtuous, but the way he was making you feel right now felt religious; the feverent way he held you and loved you was almost sacramental, the angel he was.

Hunter’s grip on your hips tightened and you watched the way his need for you eclipsed his features. It was an expression you liked and wanted to see more of. His pupils blown, mouth parted, hair messy. It pleased you to know that you made him like that.

The only sounds that filled the night were both of your moans and groans and the slap of Hunter’s hips against the backs of your thighs. Hunter’s movements increased, as did the husky sound that came from the back of his throat with each one. Hunter’s grip moved to take your hands from his shoulders, pressing them next to your head as he laced your fingers together. Each thrust buried him inside you, the hilt of his cock brushing your nub enough that you felt the heat in you rising, coiling in your stomach. It was intoxicating, and you never wanted him to stop.

“I’m…I’m so close, my love,” Hunter panted, a sheen of sweat glistening on his brow in the moonlight.

“As am I,” you told him breathlessly, hands squeezing his.

“Where?” he asked, and you felt him twitch inside you, on the cusp of it.

You were familiar with the question; your novels prepared you for this part. “Inside,” you told him without an ounce of hesitation.

Hunter groaned, his pacing stuttering. “Are you certain? It could–”

“Yes,” you cut him off. “Please. I know the risk and I am unbothered by it.”

Hunter’s face fell into your neck, groan vibrating against your skin, teeth nipping there gently. “Christ,” you heard him mumble. “You’ve ruined me.”

After several deep thrusts that you felt hit the furthest part of your core, he faltered and you heard him cry out as he stilled, and you felt him spill inside you. His hands tightened on yours, palms pressing together they may as well be fused.

You gasped, moaning as he shuddered above you, no longer able to hold his weight fully, he let himself drape his body on top of yours. Warmth pooled between your legs, and you rolled your hips against the hilt of his cock. Hunter hissed at the moment as he caught his breath, lifting his head to look at you with hooded eyes. Hunter stayed seated inside you as he slowly unlaced his hands from yours so he could shift off you slightly and lift himself up enough to slide a hand between your bodies.

“Your turn,” he told you before he slanted an open mouth kiss over your lips as his fingers brushed your nub, making you jerk and gasp into his mouth.

His fingers circled there slowly at first before they increased, rubbing with his fore and middle fingers which were coated in your slick. You felt the pleasure rising rapidly and you barely had time to say anything before you fell over the edge, that pleasure erupting from you as you cried out, mouth open under his and eyes shut. You shuddered and writhed underneath his body as he drew out your orgasm, legs trembling as you squeezed his length still inside you, making him moan into your mouth. The feeling was indescribable, more intense than your previous orgasm had been, and you clutched at his forearm and shoulder, wishing this feeling never came to an end.

You were completely his, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Then his fingers slowed, and your body came down from its peak, limbs feeling like jelly. You opened your eyes to see his brown ones staring back at you, noses knocking as you both smiled, feeling each other lips stretch with your own.

Hunter placed one last kiss on your lips before he pulled back. You laughed lightly, too happy to fully conceal it. You pushed his hair back and bit your lip. Hunter smiled down at you, birthmark flushed, then bent to kiss your cheek.

“So beautiful,” he whispered.

Your face heated as he slowly slid out of you, the loss of him a dull ache as your body readjusted to the empty feeling. Hunter rose to his knees and tucked himself back into his breeches before reaching out to adjust your chemise, hands running down your stockings once he had. He smiled and shook his head at you.

“You should see how you look right now,” he said, a rueful expression painting his face.

Your hands flew to your cheeks, pressing your fingers against the hot skin. “Why?”

“You’re an angel,” he said, fumbling for his cravat to wipe you and his fingers with.

“No, you are,” you told him as the silk fabric slid across your folds.

Hunter laughed and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Did I go too hard?”

“You were perfect,” you assured him, the soreness between your thighs a common symptom post-coitus, according to your books.

Hunter lay next to you and propped up on his elbow and you turned a little to face him, smile unable to leave your face. He smiled lovingly at you, and you at him. He opened his mouth when a deep baritone bellowed from somewhere outside the maze.

“Hunter! You better get back here! The Commodore’s looking for his daughter!” Wrecker’s voice carried over the hedges.

You covered your mouth to stifle a laugh. Hunter smiled and shook his head.

“We better go,” he said, sitting up then standing and holding a hand out to you.

“How long have we been gone?” You asked, taking his hand. Hunter pulled you up with such strength you fell forward into his arms, pressed against his chest. He caught you easily.

“Long enough,” he said. “Can’t keep him waiting.”

You looked up at him reassuringly when you saw his expression turn thoughtful, hands on his upper ams and circling the skin there with your thumbs. “He will be pleased.”

Hunter smiled at your words and you returned it before pressing a kiss to his jaw. “I’ll need your help to lace me up.”

Hunter’s smile turned into a grin, his teeth white in the moonlight. “I’ll be gentle.”

“You always are,” you told him placing your lips to his one last time before the secret of the two of you would be revealed, and your always with Hunter began.

this is the last part of falling for mr. batchbury, but please let me know if you would like to see more of the batchbury brothers...because these are a delight to write! otherwise, i have more fics coming so stay tuned! thank you for reading and supporting me!

🏷️ @starrylothcat @sinfulsalutations @moodymisty @nahoney22 @freesia-writes @nobody-expects-the-inquisitorius @bobaprint @crosshairsnose @jesseeka @thegalaxys-edge @chopper-base @shredderwest @leavingkamino @r2d2staser @beckbucket @pb-jellybeans @mylifeisactuallyamess @padawancat97 @littlecrowtime @jedipoodoo @ezras-left-thumb @lovelycurls @fruitsaladtree @literallydontlook @burningfieldof-clover @queencousland101 @clonethirstingisreal @skellymom @hopelessromantic727 @rebel-ezra @lulalovez

TAGLIST FORM

#larissa writes #hunter x reader #hunter x reader smut #regency au #hunter bad batch smut #hunter bad batch fic #the bad batch hunter fic #regency au fic #the bad batch smut #hunter smut #bad batch smut #tbb hunter #hunter bad batch x reader smut #tbb x reader #tbb hunter x reader #the bad batch fic au #hunter x reader fic

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pikespendragon67 · 2 months ago

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eh might as well. Pikes Spring 2025 Check-In Post!

It's been a bit difficult for me to really talk these past few days so might as well make a check-in post!

IRL: Tomorrow's my mom's birthday! Then this Friday I'm going to one of my local cons. ...Though I'm also planning on going to a con that's like 2-3 hours away next month and eugh my wallet's killing me since I've been trying to assemble an itabag & obtain cosplay stuff. Then I have my bornth in June which I hope I can coordinate with my friends to travel 2-3 hours for a cool place. Then uhh next cons would be in August, I might see Mystery Skulls on tour if I have enough after all that, then my next big plan might be a Halloween party with friends or my annual vacation to visit relatives

I also saw Lotus Juice on stage a few weeks ago! First concert ever, first time going by myself (via train). I just wish I had better food.

Though in meh news, there's a client that treats me like a therapist and I sadly do not get paid a therapist's wage to deal with them professionally. I also keep stuttering at interviews since I feel like I need to explain everything to make sure nothing's skipped over. My sister-in-law said I can do interview prep and sacrifice more free time for that, but I treasure my me time way too much and full-time work makes things even more difficult. I'm one of those folks that likes to work on one thing at a time, and my full time job is my current focus, unfortunately.

Online: A few weeks ago I did something dumb and I upset someone as a result. I feel awful about it and my conscience is saying to apologize/repent (thanks moral OCD!), but I also don't want to blow it into extreme proportions and Streisand Effect it. Just me being dumb and accepting my consequences.

Anime: Spring season is upon us! WHY ARE ALL THE SHOWS I WANT TO WATCH ON SATURDAYS AND NOT THROUGHOUT THE WEEEEEEEEEK. But! For stuff I'm watching this season:

Monday - Hero Academia Vigilantes and barely paying attention to Kijin Gentoushou. Vigilantes I'm super hyped for more Aizawa content, and the other looked cool but I'm not vibing it like I would've hoped

Tuesday through Thursday - Digimon rewatch. I'm 1/7th through Xros Wars and Baalmon made things interesting. Usually the first 10 episodes or so for most Digimon series are there to establish the world and characters and powers and such but I'm like ehhhhh. Sucks that Akari and Zenjirou don't have Xros Loaders, as I think they'd make for cool combos as well. That being said oh GOD Shoutmon x4B looks so bad

Friday - Jojo rewatch, Fire Force season 3 and Apothecary Diaries season 2. I'm just starting Diamond is Unbreakable for my rewatch and ohhh it's so good to be back in Morioh again. I'm keeping the tradition of 1 episode per week, but Steel Ball Run being announced might throw a snag in that plan. This was mainly to make Stone Ocean feel like a weekly release, too. :c (That being said for the love of FUCK please do not make SBR a batch release). Fire Force I've forgotten what each Division does since the last season was like. 6 years ago I think. BUT I'm super excited for future fights and it's good to see Joker again. Apothecary Diaries season 1 I wasn't vibing with as much until the end, but season 2's got me more invested.

Saturday - Anne Shirley, Guilty Gear Strive Dual Riders, From Country Bumpkin to Master Swordsman, and Kowloon Generic Romance. AGAIN WHY IS EVERYTHING ON A SATURDAY. For IRL reasons I'm legally obligated to give any Anne of Green Gables adaptation a shot. I keep meaning to watch the 70s anime but hhhhh lot of stuff to go through first. I'm liking it so far. Guilty Gear I'm mainly watching to see if i like the new character coming up but I hope characters not in Strive make an appearance. Maybe not a full ensemble but hey. Raven would be neat. Country Bumpkin I'm watching for the main character but I hope it's more like Demi-chan where it has more depth than "girls like main guy". Kowloon's probably my highlight of this season alongside Fire Force and Vigilantes. I did read that it has an original ending coming up and only 13 episodes, so if push comes to shove, I'll get the manga and finish where I left off (I think it was like chapter 90 when I last left off). I loooooooove the opening, and I loved After the Rain a bunch too.

Sunday - To Be Hero X. Originally I thought this was going to be a movie, but wow! A series with constant animation changes! I'm a sucker for the 2D portions but the 3D looks really smooth too. I'm also liking the behind the scenes mysteries, so hopefully they don't go overboard and miss everything to have a Gainax ending.

After Digimon, I think I'll move onto Captain Harlock and then check what else in my backlog catches my interest.

Games: I just finished House in Fata Morgana's main story and I looooooved how angsty but full of compassion it was. I'll most likely get back to Requiem for Spooky Month (and if there are no other spooky games I'm gonna play then). I originally wanted to play Chicory, but I got to the underground portion where the platform bugs eat up color and move as they do so. It got. Very annoying because I tend to color the full room whenever I enter it so that I can remember that I visited it beforehand. For now, I'm playing Soul Hackers 2 and am enjoying it! About to recruit Saizo and while it might have flaws, I still like the characters and overall aesthetics for this game.

Next month should hopefully be Fantasy Life time!!!

Also I might say I hate nostalgia with a burning passion but ugh. GameCube games. I played Mario Party 5 since I'm collecting for Wii and GameCube (used to have it as a kid along with the other GC Mario Parties, made the dumb decision to sell them for a Wii U back in the day). I missed it so much. And while I can Dolphin it and even Parsec it with friends, I just like playing it while I have it. GameCube NSO I'm hoping will have Wave Racer Blue Storm and the OG Kirby Air Ride since my brother and I played those a lot as kids.

Might not get the Switch 2 at launch (unless my folks are cool and will help me for my birthday since it releases 2 days before the big day itself), but the games there look great. ...But then the game prices...hm.

I kinda wanna go back to replay FE Echoes or Gravity Rush or FE Awakening or Yakuza 0 but GAAAAAAAAH gotta focus on one game at a time!!!

Writing: Just finished the latest chapter of my Bleach OC fic! Hopefully got past all the big angst and can move onto more fun stuff for a while. Especially since the next chapter is music related :]

#long post #pikes rambles #pikes life

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imarvelatstars · 10 months ago

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Built to Fall

Pairing: Hunter x f!Reader

Word Count: 4.5k

Content: mutual pining, angst w/ a happy ending

Prompts: “You’re always on my mind.” | “Why can’t you see that it’ll always be you?”, inspired in part by Young the Giant's “Mind Over Matter” + jewelry for for the clone bingo event by @karttaylir-darasuum

this was originally posted for the bad batch reader exchange as a gift for @/221bshrlocked

“You’re getting better. You might end up better than me one day.”

Omega’s nose crinkles playfully. “I’m not sure Tech would call that a good use of my skillset.”

“Well, Tech’s not here. Arts and crafts are way more fun than ship schematics anyway.”

“You’ve got that right,” she says, and you think she sounds just like her brothers.

She’s a smart kid, probably the smartest kid you’ve ever met, so she catches on to new things fast. Her fingers are agile and quick, and her mind is always running. How she hasn’t outsmarted the entire island by now is a mystery to you.

Today’s lesson, if you can call spending time with the sweetest and funniest soul in the galaxy a lesson, is learning how to string kukui nuts and shells into a necklace. There are plenty others who have mastered this art, who craft elegant strands of nuts and shells that look more like art than mere jewelry, and Omega is definitely better at it than you are, but it makes you smile, gives you something to do when your hands are restless and your mind is prone to wonder. And it helps that you can barter with your nicer pieces.

The waves roll gently up and down the shore, bubbling over the rocks and soaking the sand that’s crumpled up by your feet. There aren’t many seashells left, which means you’ll have to go hunting for more soon. You’re just about to suggest it when an embarrassingly loud grumble comes from deep in your belly. You freeze; Omega’s bright, attentive eyes flicker to you, and you both dissolve into a fit of giggles.

That’s how he finds you – lounging in the sand, your leggings rolled up to your knees, and cackling like a goblin.

“Having fun?”

Hunter’s shadow falls lengthwise over you. He’s placed his hands on his hips in a poor imitation of a scolding father, but his faux seriousness is entirely marred by the smile he doesn’t bother to hide.

Omega grins. “More fun than you are!”

“Now that I believe.” He steps around you so he can crouch in the space between you both and your heart very much doesn’t jump at the new proximity. Definitely not. “What’s all this?”

“We’re making necklaces. See?” Her latest creation is promptly displayed on her splayed fingers.

He takes a moment to study it. The shells are tiny already, but they’re even smaller in his hand, dwarfed by the length and breadth of his thumb and forefinger. You’re not sure why you notice that out of everything. It’s a silly thing to notice.

“You did this all on your own?” he marvels.

“Well...” Omega looks to you with a hint of shyness. “I had a little help.”

She's far too modest. “Very little,” you correct. “I just showed her how.” One of your baskets is quickly exchanged for Omega’s necklace, much to Hunter’s surprise. It is, after all, half full of stranded shells and nuts. “She’s a natural.”

Hunter’s brows shoot so high up his face until you’re half afraid they’ll jump right off. He looks to Omega, then you, then back to her. “You made all of these?”

For a moment it seems she’s not sure how to respond. She scratches awkwardly at the back of her neck for a bit, hesitant, even flustered, before finally nodding. “I might’ve gotten a little carried away.”

“Omega,” her brother sighs, and it’s all tender and proud, the way a father should be. Something warm alights in your heart at the sight. “These are wonderful.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

He smiles, and so does she, and that secret desire you pretend not to have, the one that delights at his nearness and the gentle affection he bestows so generously to his siblings, the softness hiding beneath his battle-hardened exterior, explodes inside your chest like a blossom finally unfurling.

“I hate to pull you away,” he continues after a moment, “but it’s time to eat.”

Omega groans but doesn’t protest beyond that. She’s quick on her feet, gathering up her things and haphazardly dropping them into the basket she then perches on her hip. You, on the other hand, are a bit slower than that. Pabu works many miracles, but it doesn’t make you any younger or faster, no matter how refreshing the sea air may be. Your own basket of seashells and kukui is organized and fastened shut, then your shoes gathered in your hand, and then – and then you find Hunter’s hand extended to you.

You brush off your shock as quickly as you can, hoping it doesn’t linger, that it isn’t noticeable, and take the offer with a smile that matches his own. The contact is brief, far too short for your liking, but it quickens your pulse enough that you fear your heart will catapult from the cavity of your chest all because he looked at you, touched you, and it’s all you ever dream of.

His fingerprints still burn into your skin long after his hands have withdrawn. You almost wish they would scar if only to have a physical reminder of him when he’s gone.

“Thanks.”

He nods, and the sun shines golden on his face. There’s a wordless moment where he extends his hand to you again and you think he’ll take hold of you a second time, guide you off the beach like that, and you’re not even sure you’ll survive such a thing, but then you realize he’s asking for your basket. And you’re disappointed, but so, so relieved.

“That’s okay, I got i-”

His fingers curl around the basket handle, gentle but firm. There’s no room for discussion, not as he tugs it free and settles it under his own arm, not as he tells you in everything but words that he will carry this thing for you, he will carry anything you need, anything you want, and you never need to ask. You only wish that he would do it because he cares.

“You don’t have to do that, y’know.”

Hunter’s brow furrows, but you blink and it’s gone. “I know,” he says.

The walk from the beach to Shep’s house is relatively short, but it always flies by when you walk it with him. Perhaps because he makes you feel safe, secure, because he makes you smile when no one else can. Perhaps because you never want these moments to end. Perhaps because, if you’re really honest with yourself, you know that he fills the part of your heart that longs for more, no matter how uncertain you are if he would ever allow himself such a thing.

Dinner at Shep’s is never a simple affair, but it’s always happy. Good food, pleasant chatter, the sound of Omega, Wrecker, and Lyana’s laughter, Phee’s gently barbed remarks and Crosshair’s witty retorts, Batcher barking and huffing between gulps of food, and even the more serious conversations shared between Hunter and Shep tend to be more comforting than not. It’s home, plain and simple. It was never meant to be, not for you, but somehow… somehow that’s exactly what it’s become. He doesn’t know, at least you don’t think he does, but none of it would’ve happened without him, without that too-good heart of his beating fast and strong below his bones, that heart you wish you could call your own one day.

Funny how easy it is to be foolish, isn’t it?

“You’re quiet tonight.”

Shep’s followed you to the balcony where you’ve chosen to watch the last remnants of the sunset as the colors bleed into the clouds and the dark, stormy shroud of night begins to fall.

You tilt your head back, trying and failing to catch a glimpse of the starts through the clouds. “Sorry. Just had something on my mind, I guess.”

He nods, as if he understands, and you truly think he does. He’s a wise sort of man, kind and smart in a way that only experience can provide. “You know you can always speak your mind.” His forearms find the lip of the balcony the same way yours have. “If something’s bothering you-”

“It’s not you, Shep.” You don’t dare say what it is, but you almost wonder if he knows. “I have a little too much to think about sometimes, y’know?”

“I do,” he says, and he nods again. You think he’s about to say something else, but he’s stopped by the weight of a hand upon his elbow, the gentle intrusion of Hunter’s presence as he steps into the conversation.

“Sorry to interrupt.” He gestures to the expanse of clouds as if it were a perfectly normal thing to do. Though for him, you suppose it is. “We’ve got bad weather incoming. Probably best for everyone to head home now.”

Shep agrees, and the others are quick to hurry back to their own hovels or to the Marauder, but Hunter walks you home.

You both know he doesn’t need to. And, you think, you both know he’s only doing this because he feels duty-bound. It hurts, but you revel in his company all the same, just for these few moments.

“I should go,” he says once you’re both inside, dripping the beginnings of the storm onto the stone floor, but he seems loathe to admit it.

You both spare a glance out the window. The rain’s already coming down harder than it was just a minute ago. It’s pattering hard atop the roof and there’s enough force behind it that you’re almost afraid it’ll blow your windchimes clean off.

“Hunter, you’ll get soaked. At least stay until it’s eased up a bit.”

That’s the least you can do, isn’t it? After everything?

But rather than immediately accept the offer, Hunter grimaces. His entire body stills and starts to shift away from you, not a lot, not even in a way that might be noticeable to anyone else, but you know him, his tells, all the subtle ways his body responds to the world around him. You recognize immediately that he’s uncomfortable and that knowledge hits you right in the gut, sharper than a vibroblade.

He shakes his head, politely. “No, I, I should go. I’ll be fine.”

It’s the fact that he refuses to even look at you that does you in.

And you know you should let it pass. Really, you do. Take the blow and roll with the remaining punches the way he and his brothers do, but you’re not strong like they are, and your heart is so much more fragile than theirs.

You sigh. “Why d’you have to be like this?”

Impossibly dark eyes flicker in the muted lighting, landing somewhere near yours. “What?”

“If you don’t like me, Hunter, just say it. You don’t have to pretend, okay? That just makes it worse.”

His tattoo crinkles as his face shifts, each line of inkwork rippling until he’s frowning at you so intently that the weight of it feels enough to crush you. Then his head tilts and the coils of his hair fall over his eyes, and he’s so beautiful that you think you might cry.

“What are you talking about?”

Maker, is he really gonna make you say it?

A brief turn of your shoulder gives you the spare moments you need to compose yourself, and as you survey the tiny hovel you’ve turned into a home, you find yourself thinking again of that last night on Ord Mantell. The night you realized Tech was dead and Omega was gone, and you knew your life would never be the same again…

It’s a goddamn Imperial fleet. You’ve never seen so many ships at once before. They crowd the sky, faintly and briefly illuminated by streaks of lightning and the few pricks of light coming from the city as they descend. You don’t know why they’re here, but you don’t really need to. You know there’s only one thing on Ord Mantell precious enough to draw the Empire out here and it’s not any one of the petty criminals or their shady deals passed under the table and off the books.

If you had any of their comm channels, you’d be satisfied with asking if everything’s alright, if they need a place to stay. But you don’t. Instead, you run. It was a boring night off anyway.

The bar is trashed when you get there. Tables overturned, blaster marks scorched into the walls. Cid’s nowhere to be found and neither are the clones, and it leaves a terrible, sinking feeling in your gut. None of this is right.

Stumbling back outside, you see a handful of Imperial ships lifting off, one already shooting for the outer reaches of the atmosphere. Whatever they’d come for, they’d clearly found it, and Maker, you prayed it wasn’t any of them. Anyone, anything but them.

You come stumbling into the landing zone just as the boys come through the far end, already approaching their ship. Your throat is raw and your entire body hurts from being pushed far beyond its usual limit.

“What, what happened?” you gasp between desperate mouthfuls of air, hands clutching your knees as you double over. “The Empire-”

It’s then that Hunter comes swooping into your personal space, so close that he takes up every inch of it, totally filling your vision until the shadow of his tattoo and the dark glinting of his eyes is all you can see. There’s no time for your stomach to flip or your face to flush hot. There’s only time enough for him to grab you and push until your back hits solid durasteel. It’s cold, sharp, violent where it digs into your back, but no colder than the quiet rage you see carved into Hunter’s face now.

“You sold us out.”

You’re too confused to be offended. “What?”

His forearm finds your throat and presses until you’re properly pinned between him and whatever unyielding thing he’s backed you into, and when you look up at him, you find that you’re afraid of him for the first time in your life. He looks murderous.

“Hunt- Hunter! What are you talking abo-?”

“They took her.” He's clearly furious, but there’s a deceptive calm about him that rattles you to your bones. It’s not the calm and quiet demeanor of a battle-hardened soldier, but the cool and distant resolve of a man on the edge of desperation. “Because of your boss. Care t’ tell me why?”

You struggle to look over his shoulder to the others behind him. None of them have come to your aid, though Echo looks like he’s about to. And Wrecker... What the hell happened to put him in a neck brace? You look back to Hunter, seeking his face for something you’re not even sure you know how to name, only to find his body wrapped in bandages and his face bruised. Something’s not right, something more than just the Empire.

They took her. Took… who?

You glance at the others again. Wait. Where’s Tech? Where’s Omega?

His words pierce through your heart when they cycle round your head again.

They took her.

No.

Your boss.

She wouldn’t. She... she couldn’t. To them, maybe, but to Omega?

“Hunter,” you croak with a voice that cracks under the weight of your horror, “where’s Omega?”

Nostrils flaring, he presses harder into you until you actually choke, his teeth bared and gritted, flashing white against his skin. It’s the most monstrous you’ve ever seen him. “You tell me.”

You’ll kill her. If he lets you live, you’ll march yourself down to the parlor and kill Cid yourself. Doesn’t matter that you’ve never flared beyond the supernova of a rookie punch, you’ll level a blaster at her head. That is, if Hunter permits you to live past the next few minutes. You’re honestly not sure if he will. But then, if you’d kill for Omega, you don’t think you want to know what kinds of atrocities her brother would commit. Perhaps you’ll learn firsthand.

Echo stops him, but he cuts it concerningly close. Air rushes through your lungs so quickly that it hurts, and you find yourself wilting until your legs give out.

His voice wrapping around the syllables of your name is enough to bring you back to the present, to the cold, dismal reality of the disaster of a relationship your friendship has become. You look to the hand at your wrist, the long, calloused fingers and the scars that crisscross his knuckles, the swirling tattoos atop his bones that disappear beneath the cuff of his sleeve, then up to his shoulder, his chin, the flared base of his nose, and then to his eyes. You swear you dream of them every night.

“What is it?” he asks in that deep, rumbling timbre of his.

You’re so heartbroken that all you can do is smile. “What do you think?” Flashes of an offered hand, the lifting of a basket, the quirk of a smile when you crack a joke or the lifting of a brow when you manage to surprise him, the lingering of his gaze when the nights draw dark and your mind is dulled with sleep – they all filter through your thoughts in a single instant. “You don’t have to keep making it up to me. What happened on Ord Mantell is done, Hunter. I just…” You shouldn’t say it, you should keep it buried deep inside your heart and let the wound fester until you burst, but now that you’ve started you find you can’t stop. “I just wish you’d stop killing yourself trying to earn my forgiveness when I gave it to you a long time ago. Especially when I know you hate me.”

The storm rages on while you fall into silence. The wind whips and whistles against the windows, the rain pummels the ground, and all the while you wait for Hunter to finally admit what you’ve known to be true for the past year.

Instead, he loosens his grip until his hand falls away and you hear, rather than see, the dropping of his shoulders in the way he sounds utterly wrecked when he mutters, “Is that what you think?”

Your breath stalls in your chest. “Isn’t it true?”

“No,” he says too quickly. Like he’s lying, like he’s trying to cover his tracks.

“Hunter-”

“You really think that?”

“Fuck, of course I do!” You turn on him and gesture to the awkward, uncertain tilt of his body as if it were the most offensive sight you’d ever seen. “Look at you, you don’t even want to be near me! You act like I burn you half the time we touch. What the hell else am I supposed to think?”

If ever you’ve seen Hunter wish he could crawl into his skin and die, now would be it. All it does is further affirm what you’ve long suspected, and it kills you, the same way it’s been killing him to re-earn your favor. You can’t do this anymore. You can’t pretend like you’re not head over heels in love with him, despite how much he hates you, despite knowing he might have killed you once not so long ago. Despite everything, you love him. And he will never love you back.

You storm to the door and slap your hand against the controls. It hisses open as the sharp winds of the storm come bursting in. Half the house seems ready to blow away, but you don’t care.

“Get out.” Even though it’s the exact opposite of what you want. “Now.”

And because he hates you, he acquiesces. Head bowed low and his eyes cast to the floor, Hunter steps outside without so much as a farewell, and he takes your heart with him.

You’re not sure how much time passes between then and now. It could be a whole hour, or a few seconds of your heartbeat thundering inside your ears. Does it matter?

“I wish I’d never met you.” He’s almost certainly gone by now, but you find yourself wishing that he could hear you. You want him to hurt as much as you do now. “I wish I’d never fallen for your stupid face.” You rub the back of your hand over your eyes and nose, and it comes back wet with your grief. “Wish I’d never gone to Ord Mantell, and I wish I’d never fucking met you, and I wish, I wish…”

Say it, says the little voice in the back of your head. No reason to hide it now.

It’s to the empty room and the cold, tragic rain, you finally admit the secret that’s been eating you alive: “I wish I could’ve loved anyone but you.”

No one responds. There are no frantic confessions of mutual feelings, no gentle knocking at your door. Not that you’d expected there to be, but a part of you had hoped. No, Hunter’s gone and you’ve made a fool of yourself for no reason at all. You dread to think what tomorrow will bring in this storm’s wake, how the chaos will have torn your new home into tatters, how Hunter will watch you with the same distant, burning eyes that break your heart and stitch it back together all at once, how the island will feel as foreign as it did the night you first arrived. You’ve already started mourning the daily gathering’s at Shep’s, the way Wrecker makes you laugh and Phee tells her stories, and Hunter loves Omega like the daughter she almost is, and now it’s all gone, forever, and maybe, just maybe, you were lost to the depths of your heart that very first day that the Marauder touched down on Ord Mantell and the squad came into Cid’s. Maybe you were never meant for finer things like requited love and a place to belong to.

It’s this endless spiral of illogical conclusions and shattered dreams that Hunter returns to. You never hear the door open, nor the worsening of the storm, but you do hear the soft squeak of his boots on stone, the gently trembling exhale of his breath as he squats beside you. You turn as he comes to you, your face damp and snotty, and it’s embarrassing, but he doesn’t care. How could he when he takes your face in his hand like he was made to do it? His headband is soaked and his hair is dripping wet, the tight coils of his bangs now plastered to his skin.

“Don’t cry.”

You only cry harder, but this time Hunter pulls you to him. You let him. He’s soaked, just like you said he would be.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers with your head tucked beneath his chin and your shoulders shaking under his fingers. “I’m sorry.”

“You left,” you sniffle.

One of his hands finds your neck. It’s cold, but the touch sparks tendrils of warmth down to your toes. This way, your head is tilted back and his is inclined toward you, almost as if…

“You asked me to.” His breath fans across your face, down your throat, dipping low like the path his eyes take as he assesses you. “I don’t hate you. I never have.”

You could fight him on it. You could, but you can’t find the words. You can’t find any words. You don’t know what to say. Kriff, you can barely think right now with the way he’s holding you, watching you, how completely he fills every one of your senses.

“I don’t… know how to do this. I’ve already hurt you before, I don’t- I can’t do that again.”

There’s a hesitancy there, though. You see it in his eyes, in the set of his bones, somehow managing to pull away from you while still staying so deeply entwined with you. He’s unsure all over again, perhaps even as unsure as you are.

“Hunter…” Your hand finds his face, unbidden but perfect all the same, and he leans into you. “I already forgave you. You don’t have to-”

“I heard you.”

He… Huh?

Frowning, you start to pull away as you blink through the confusion and the watery film along the bottom of your eyes. “What?”

He tightens his arms about you to draw you closer and while your pulse skyrockets, you’re not sure if it’s because you’re terrified that he’s so close or panicking because he’s just close enough. You can smell him, now – the faint tones of sweat and sea salt and the wine from dinner – and you swear it’s enough to capsize you. Hunter lowers his gaze, then his face, so, so close to yours that he’s the only thing you see. And you think, you hope, he’ll kiss you, but you’re afraid of what might happen if he does.

“I heard you,” he says again, softer this time. His brows have pressed together above his nose as he focuses upon the spot just below your own. “Cyare… All this time, I thought I didn’t deserve you. I didn’t know.” His nose bumps yours. “Cyare,” and you hope one day he tells you what it means, “can I?”

You don’t need to ask what he means. You only have to nod. “Yes,” you murmur, and that’s when he kisses you.

It’s a cautious thing, so hesitant and timid, but Maker it’s beautiful. Even if this is all he ever gives you, it would be enough to know that he tried, that you learned his taste and his touch when it felt like the world was crashing down around you.

“I’m sorry,” he says before trying again, more frantic, more eager as his mouth presses into yours.

“I forgive you,” you promise before burying your hands in his hair.

The next few moments are a flurry of adrenaline and kisses peppered on skin, the rustling of fabric and the creaking of the sofa when it takes your combined weight. Hunter seems to have found his confidence along the way, and you’ve found your courage, and it ends with his teeth at your lips, and your tongue at his throat, and confessions pouring from you the more he gives and the longer he takes.

“I couldn’t, couldn’t stop thinking about you.” He nips at your jaw. “It’s always been you, Hunter. Always.” He kisses your cheek, then your brow, then the corner of your mouth, hands trailing across your hips and arms as he goes. “I love you. I’m sorry for everything, I just love you so mu-”

His kisses steal the tail end of your confession, drawing into his mouth to mingle with his own until you swear the two of you become one.

“’s alright, mesh’la, ‘s alright. I know.” The bump in his nose is a caress against your cheek as he nuzzles into you. “I feel the same.”

It’s not perfect, this thing between you, and it isn’t easy, but it was always worth fighting for. You were always meant to fall for Hunter, and he was always meant to fall for you. You hope you never stop falling. And he swears never to stop catching you.

#hunter x reader #tbb hunter x reader #tbb hunter #x reader #tbb #2024cbe

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lonewolflupe · 10 months ago

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Current event: none | please tag me in all Captain Vaughn content

Welcome to my blog and thanks for stopping by! This post will navigate you through the chaos of my clone-infested brain (:

Lupe | she/her | 🇳🇱 | 18+ (chaotic adult)

Star Wars blog (mainly The Clone Wars / The Bad Batch / Republic Commando > clonesclonesclones with some occasional Disaster Lineage)

Not afraid to use caps-lock in the hour of need

I'm a bit shy but I LOVE receiving messages, so don't hesitate to DM me!

My blog is a chaotic kark-heap of Star Wars/clone content. To help navigate it (mostly for myself, I guess), I use different tags for different content. You can find my stuff through these tags:

ART: #lonewolflupe draws

WRITING: #lonewolflupe writes

READING: #lonewolflupe reads

MEMES etc: #karkposts with lupe / #karkposting with lupe

RAMBLING: #lonewolflupe rambles

You can find my writing masterlist over here (or check out my AO3).

You can find all my works under the tag #lonewolflupe writes

I try tagging my works with SFW or NSFW as best I can

All my works are free of cl*necest, r*xsoka and master x apprentice shipping

I do not write hardcore smut, but some of my stories include sexual interaction (mild smut? where does one draw the line?)

Interested in joining my taglist? See my writing masterlist! <3

Want to be tagged in my writing and/or art? Check out my taglist!

You can find my OC masterlist over here (including Lupe).

If you've come this far: thanks for reading and stopping by! <3

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margindoodles2407 · 7 months ago

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Soooo @seeking-elsewhither I am continuing to work on my Clones and Music post for HFSW (don't know WHY it's taking so long but it is for some reason) BUT. I did manage to finish my stuff about the Baddest of Batches and thought, Hey. I should talk about this before I run out of steam. So enjoy

Clones and Music, Bonus Content: The Bad Batch

Wrecker, who is a Bass, would be so disappointed if I didn't let him play percussion, so really I had no choice. He has amassed a small collection of almost every different kind of percussion instrument known to the Archipelago; he's got a tradition of managing to get his hands on at least one from every island they visit. The pride and joy of his collection, though, is a xylophone built from the bones of Battle Droids he's bested (this concerns Hunter, perplexes Tech, amuses Crosshair, and utterly fascinates Omega).

Echo, when he was young, played the flute on board the RSS Resolute. But a skeleton hand can't fit quite right on the keys of a traditional pipe. So, in Clone Force 99, he picks up the pan flute. It's not as elegant as his former instrument; it's quite simple, really. Privately, though, Echo's glad for the simplicity. It's been far too long since he had any of it in his life.

Tech, a tenor, built a whole kriffing piano into the lower deck of the Marauder. It's quite literally mounted into the wall, and its creation and upkeep is one of his pet projects. He's also teaching Omega to play. (After his death, the mere sight of it is something his brothers' broken hearts can't bear, and they cover it with a bolt of black cloth like a shroud. The sound of piano music isn't heard again until about a year after Hunter, Wrecker, Cross and Omega finally settle down on Pabu. While the Batch was away to Tantiss, the citizens of the island- led by Phee- managed to salvage parts of the wreck of the Marauder, and used those pieces to construct a new piano, to give to them as a gift in gratitude for everything they'd done. Omega's out of practice, but she almost immediately takes her lessons back up again and within months, she can be heard playing almost every night.)

Hunter's a Baritone and plays the mandolin. Due to his advanced hearing, he's able to pick up even the slightest sour notes in his playing, so whenever he plays it's like, a level of sound unknown to man. Combine this with Cross's perfectionistic skill, as is often the case in the lower decks of the Marauder, and you get perhaps the most hauntingly beautiful music you've ever heard. He's also the most prolific composer of the Batch, and can often be found on deck late at night picking out melodies with only the moon and stars and a single stump of a candle for light. It helps him relax. (He… doesn't play much, after Crosshair splinters. Sure, he half-heartedly strums out a few simple tunes to try to keep his family's spirits up, but without his brother's accompaniment, something just isn't right. It's only after Omega starts playing the piano again that he really takes it up again with the same passion as before.)

Crosshair. Ohohoho. Crosshair is a tenor, like Tech. Unlike Tech, Crosshair plays the fiddle. And he's karking good at it. Crosshair Bad Batch is a man who does nothing halfway and his music is absolutely no exception; he's learned and mastered almost every style of fiddling in the Archipelago, and with his steady hands and nimble fingers, he's perfectly suited to playing rapid-fire, overly-complicated pieces. That is… until the Empire. As it disbands the Clone Choir and Orchestra, and as he left his fiddle on the Marauder, he spends months out of practice (he used to practice every night)-- and, by the time he finally comes to his senses and escapes Tantiss with Omega, his hand shakes so badly that every note he tries to play turns sour. It's too much for his proud, perfectionistic heart to take. It comes to pass that one day, in the wee hours of the morning on Pabu, Omega can't sleep and realizes that he's nowhere to be found. She goes to find him and is horrified to discover he's snuck out to the shore to burn the kriffing thing in a fit of rage, frustration, and self-loathing. Distraught, Omega tries to fish it from the flames, but when he begs her to stop for fear she'll burn herself, she simply sits with him in silence till the fire dies away. (Unfortunately, his ability to play the fiddle is something Crosshair never recovers. When he loses his hand on Tantiss, his fate is sealed, and even with a prosthetic his fingers are too clumsy for him to ever take it back up again. But he starts to write music. Music for Omega to play on her piano. Hunter helps him with his composition- and even though they can't play their strings together anymore, the hours upon hours of sitting picking out harmonies in their small home's front room helps to heal their broken relationship in ways they never thought it could.)

#margn rambles #star wars #look at my guys #hfsw #the lore part one #i swear this will make more sense when i post. the rest of the lore XD #but yeah i thought “kriff it. let's just put that out there and see where it goes”#the clones and their relationship to music is so so important to hfsw though you really don't understand yet and i am SO excited to explain

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waywardsou2 · 1 year ago

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ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚Master Post ˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

✮ Wayward || He/Him || They/Them || Trans || Creator ✮

Welcome to my main blog! This is where I post anything and everything related to my fandoms and hyper-fixations. You'll be able to see where I'm at based on my header and icon for this blog. Right now, it's How to Train your Dragon and will be into near future. So have fun drowning in that content 👍

General info about me

My fandoms: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, How to Train your Dragon, The Last of Us, Supernatural, Avatar/Avatar The Way of Water, Star wars: Rebels, Star Wars: The Clone Wars, Star Wars: The Bad Batch, My Hero Academia, Marvel, Arcane

✯ My alternate blogs

Writing blog - @waywardwritesstuff

Made by Marvel - @made-by-marvel-prompts

Art Blog - @waywardsuniverses

✯ All Master Posts

Master link post

Bad Batch Art Master Post | Bad Batch Writing Master Post

TMNT AU Master Post

My Wolverine Master Post

Kinktober 2024 Master Post

Whumptober 2024 Master Post

✯My tags

#wayward rants - all of my general chatter

#wayward rambles - all of my general chatter

#wayward art - any and all of my art

#helpful reblogs - posts I want to come back to later

#back alley thoughts - intrusive thoughts, steamy thoughts and self indulgent fics

✯ My moots

All of their content is amazing, and you should really go check them out.

Thats all for now, thanks for stopping by, I hope you find something you like and stick around for a while. See you later

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shadowthestoryteller · 10 months ago

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Health Hiatus Announcement

This is gonna be a long post, but a necessary one that has quite a bit of important info relating to the future of my creative works concerning the Adventures!AU series. First, look at this lovely new cover art for Off to a Great Start I had done by my bud Arven92 on DA. The title has changed to The Adventure Begins, but the main story within is the same.

The light reveals their true Alphian form (symbolic only, not a lore aspect) while their shadow shows their ultimate fate as a member of Clone Force 99/Bad Batch. The bookshelves are a key location (library), but the merge into woods represents how they're entering into a very real adventure that isn't just a fantasy they write into books. Really happy how it turned out ^^

Onto the main post!

TLDR: Adventures!AU is being drastically shortened for my sanity and physical health into two arcs (six books each) but most likely will cease full chapter uploads after arc one as I am tired af, I don’t want to be doing this series into my 50s, and I want to turn my focus back to my originals eventually. Next year will see postings of the series prologue, Anachronism, as well as hopefully the Remaster of Off to a Great Start/The Adventure Begins. I will still be very active on my discord, where some chapters of next year's stories have already been posted. But for my other story posting sites (aka Wattpad) all new Star Wars content is on hiatus until 2026.

Been wanting to make a big post for a while for the people who aren’t a part of the discord, especially since I’ve more or less dropped off the face of tumblr after it became unhealthy due to comparison eating me alive. If you like my work, you’re welcome to join the server which is dedicated to my works. I’m active in there a few times a week, and even post bi-weekly updates as to what I’ve been working on. And I’ve posted six chapters of remastered Off to a Great Start/The Adventure Begins complete with new scenes, new povs, and even more snark! Just message me for the link, I'm still wary of a stalker finding me again.

Now, for the meat of this update.

Y’all. I am just… dog dead tired. And stressed beyond belief. Some of it isn’t related to the Adventures!AU itself (job hunt, burnout from completing my Masters in May, ect), but a lot of it admittedly is. Considering I’ve written almost 500k words in just under 5 years, it’s no surprise. Some people don’t write that in a lifetime, and I’m out here doing that on top of college. Proud of myself for that.

What I’m not proud of, however, is ignoring my body’s warning signals and pushing myself past my limits not once, but twice. Once in 2022, and now again in 2024. Nothing major or genuinely life-altering, but when I say my health anxiety went off the rails. Been a rough few weeks lol.

But that leads me to now.

Adventures!AU. My series following the adventures of my self-insert as they become a member of Clone Force 99 back when it was just four members, with the added twist of it being in an alternate universe where the Star Wars universe has crossed over with my original stories. It’s not as big as non-self insert series, but Over the River and Through the Woods (which sits at a whopping 66 chapters and 200k+ words) once got #19 out of 60k in the ocs tag. The series has been going since April 2020, seeing four completed stories of various lengths and one WIP that sits at 21 chapters and 93k words.

Aside from the recently completed Fallen Not Forgotten, it’s been on hiatus since Dec of 2023. At least as far as chapter uploads go. It’s certainly not been collecting dust. To say it underwent some intense restructuring in July is an understatement. A big understatement.

I originally had seventeen books planned for the series as of three months ago, sectioned into four arcs with Anachronism kinda being a “prologue” to the main Adventures!AU series. Before this timeline is banished to the dream graveyard, I’m sharing it so y’all can at least see where it was gonna go. The four arcs would have had four books each, and were structured thus:

Bonds Forged Through Fire and Storm

Off to a Great Start (25 chapters)

Over the River and Through the Woods (66 chapters)

To the Far Reaches (66 chapters)

Welcome to War Games (25 chapters)

Into the Light Through Acts in the Dark

Commander, Meet the Cat (Remastered, 20 chapters)

Fallen Not Forgotten (Remastered, 20 chapters)

Risk vs Reward (20 chapters)

Bane of My Existence (20 chapters)

Wars of the Realms

Call of the Wild (20 chapters)

Convergence Hijinks (20 chapters)

Let’s See What You’re Really Made Of (20 chapters)

Anachronistic Adventures (20 chapters)

Decaying Dreams and Deadly Dances

Shadow in the Dark (40 chapters)

Murder Uncle Mayhem (40 chapters)

No Good Deed Goes Unpunished (40 chapters)

A Legacy in Question(40 chapters)

The plans I had for this series were intricate, deep, and would push many characters to their limits.

But turns out, it wasn’t just the characters pushed to their breaking point.

I got sick. A rather severe case of acid reflux that landed me in the docs office for the second time in two years. That started in mid-July, and I’m still dealing with it. Will probably be dealing with the sickness afterward for another month at least. But leading up to all that, I’ve been reflecting on the series as a whole and where exactly I want it to go, how I want it to end, and all that jazz.

Then I did a scheduling test in Excel using the above chapter load plus the 30 I had planned for Anachronism. Assuming two chapters a month with minimal breaks here and there, this series would finally end in 2050. That is by no means sustainable, and while I have had a lot of fun with this series and daydreaming about the different plotlines is a comfort activity, I can’t see myself writing these books for that long. I really want to publish my original stories some day, but I also won’t pretend that I’m not a bit tired of the series. At least, tired of pushing myself to work on stories that just don’t give the same rush of dopamine they used to. It’s almost a chore now to work on them, at least in the case of FNF.

Full disclosure, that story has been a problem child since day one. Actually, I’m pretty sure the stress of that story is what pushed me over the edge and caused the health issues in 2022 that sent me to the doc with acid reflux the first time. Messing with canon and trying to keep the timeline continuous (with timetravel in the mix too) was nothing short of infuriating. The trajectory changed so many times as I wrote it, which I sadly feel is evident in the story. It really seems like a disjointed mess. I’m just so disappointed how it turned out, but I was determined to at least finish it and not leave everyone on a cliffhanger. And I’m proud of myself for at least finishing it, even if I cut out at least four threads from the ending. It just wasn’t healthy to keep going.

Nor was it going to be healthy if I kept the series structured like I had it.

So, I took the steps to fix that.

Seventeen stories became twelve, four arcs became two. Some storylines were combined into one book (ex: Risk vs Reward and Bane of My Existence) while others (ex: Adventures!AU Batch meeting canon batch in Convergence Hijinks) were cut completely. I hated to lose some, but I’ve always been one to appreciate quality over quantity. Combining books and plotlines will help streamline things and make it more manageable. Some books also get new titles.

Arc one keeps its name, and will cover six books; Four main books then a prologue and epilogue of sorts. Anachronism, The Adventure Begins, Over the River and Through the Woods, To the Far Reaches, Welcome to War Games, and Moving Back to Look Forward. This arc covers Shadow’s initial fandom jump into the Tintin 2011 movie, their first mission with the Bad Batch, and them meeting the sailors again this time with the Batchers. Arc two will also keep its name and cover the entirety of the group’s interference of Star Wars the Clone Wars canon (rescuing Domino to taking down Palps), with a similar set up to arc one. Fallen Not Forgotten, Risk vs Reward, Level Up, Shadow in the Dark, No Good Deed Goes Unpunished, and A Legacy in Question.

But I know that even the shortening isn’t drastic enough. I feel only dread thinking about the series now, and that won’t do. So, though it kills me, Arc One will probably be the only arc that gets an official posting. Once Moving Back to Look Forward ends in 2030 (barring any major complications), that will be it for official full length postings of Adventures!AU. I’ll still post snippets and segments from arc two on Discord (like I do now occasionally), but MBtLF will end in a way that wraps everything up nicely. I’ll be sure to craft it so it can remain open ended to their adventures, but the current trajectory will see the “main” storyline with Shadow and the Batch, plus the Tintin sailors, close in arc one.

That’s the long term goal. So what’s short term?

Next year I plan to at least partially post Anachronism. That story has remained in the drafts for long enough. Yes, that means To the Far Reaches is backed up another year for posting (2026). That story has a lot of emotional moments, a lot of dealing with past trauma and relationship issues, and I just don’t have the spoons for that right now. For those intense moments, I have to crack myself open a bit and let my heart bleed onto the page. I’m not in a position to do that right now. Anachronism lacked that depth, being a bit more surface level than the stories with the Batchers. It’s got its own emotional moments, but it’s not nearly as taxing. Additionally, I’m going back through what was Off to a Great Start (now The Adventure Begins) and bringing it up to the standards I try to hold OtRaTtW and TtFR to. But I learned my lesson posting stories out of order so I’m going to get Anachronism finished so there’s no continuity issues.

That brings me to my next point; Adventures!AU canon.

I’ve already announced that the posted C,MtC and FNF are both non-canon and should not be taken as fact. You can still enjoy them (best you can with the crack-writing) but any continuity issues should be ignored as they are from an earlier draft of the Adventures!AU. Well, that decanonization treatment is extending beyond those two. The Adventure Begins, Over the River and Through the Woods, and To the Far Reaches aren’t non-canon per se, but rather some elements of the remastered versions may contradict the original postings. Going forward, the “truest” version will be those depicted in the works posted to Adventures!AU Remastered on Wattpad. The first story (The Adventure Begins) won’t drop there until at least November 2025 but you’re free to watch it in the meantime. It’ll sit dormant for quite a bit longer though. Nothing major will change in the stories, but I plan to add some extra scenes and tweak some minor details (the Batchers time in the galaxy is one big thing I’m looking at tweaking).

Let’s see. checks notes Yep, I think that covers everything! At least for now lol. I always have stuff to say, but this will probably be the last long update post for quite some time.

Thanks for hanging around, and for reading this long post lol.

#update post #health hiatus #bad batch #Adventures!Au

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