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bb-8 · 3 years

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Tech Savvy

Pairing: Tech x female reader Summary: You’re an ex-imperial who has a crush on Tech. He’s awkward about it. Until he’s not. Rating: Explicit (18+, minors DNI) Warnings/tags: crack treated seriously, smut, unprotected PIV, awkward flirting, oral sex, first kisses, accidental exhibitionism, lots of bad jokes, slight angst Word count: 5.4K Notes: It’s smutty crack treated seriously, guys. Read on AO3.

The planet you land on isn’t anything special. It’s a humid swamp world in the Outer Rim that offers enough seclusion for even the Empire’s Most Wanted to pass by unnoticed.

You, being the kind and selfless individual you are, decide to help with repairs while Clone Force 99 are on a supply run. It’s the first time the ship has made planet fall in weeks and everyone is a bit stir-crazy, jumping at the chance to stretch their legs. Prolonged time spent in hyperspace has that effect.

Before he left, you told Hunter that your status as an ex-Imperial put an unnecessary target on their back. You’re still wearing your Imperial uniform, after all, and you know for a fact that the Empire is not exactly merciful to deserters. Especially deserters that committed high treason. Like aiding Clone Force 99’s escape from an Imperial prison.

You definitely didn’t just jump at the chance to stay behind because Tech opted to. That would be ridiculous.

You feel your face heat at the thought.

(What? His goggles are cute.)

The truth is, there’s been something – a tension, as it were – between the two of you since you arrived on board. You know it, he knows it. You’ve been orbiting around each other for some weeks now, and this is the first time you’ve been alone –

“Can you spare a minute?” Tech calls out, pulling you away from your thoughts. You swivel in your chair and shift your attention to him, a bit surprised.

“I was beginning to think you didn’t realise I was on board,” you reply as you make your way to the cockpit where Tech is currently fiddling with some wires.

“You’re...very hard to miss,” Tech replies and your heart skips a beat. “The ship is far too small to miss another sentient being’s presence.”

“Right,” you mutter while taking a seat, trying not to sound too deflated. So maybe he didn’t feel that tension. “What do you need help with?”

“I am taking this opportunity to rewrite the ship’s central comm unit to be more covert when passing through areas with increased Imperial traffic. If I can update the ship’s communication infrastructure to resemble that of a first generation Imperial craft, then we will considerably reduce our chances of being identified. Which is why I am particularly glad you stayed behind today. Considering your, er, history.” He fiddles with a mess of wires in front of him, not once looking up.

“And here I was thinking you wanted me around because you enjoyed my company,” you playfully jab.

“There’s that, too,” Tech replies. “Though it would be advantageous if you could list all of the Imperial access codes you can remember. The computer and I can do some pattern recognition to better–,” he cut himself off and anxiously rubbed the back of his neck. “Apologies, you don’t need a long-winded explanation. If you’re happy to share, you can do so whenever you’re ready.”

You consider protesting and telling him that you find his rambling cute, but you decide not to dwell on it for his sake. You list the codes you remember from the Academy. You keep talking, relaying any tangential intel relating to access codes. If it’s irrelevant, Tech doesn’t stop you.

He is silent for a few moments analysing the data you’ve given him. You watch him closely, admiring the way his brow furrows and his lips purse while he’s concentrating.

“You trust me then?” you venture to say. You play with your hands in your lap. “Even though I was with the Empire?”

“You’re helping us now,” Tech replies, as if it’s obvious. He is still inputting data into the datapad he is holding when he continues, “You trust us, it would seem. And we were soldiers programmed upon our creation to destroy the Republic.”

You fumble over your next words.

“That’s – it’s entirely different.”

“And from my perspective, all that matters is where you are now,” he states with finality.

“Well,” you say shyly, “I like where I am.”

Tech smirks despite himself, briefly glancing up at you from his datapad.

You hold his gaze for a moment, before settling into a comfortable silence. You sit in next to him for several minutes, revelling in his closeness like a brezak basking under the Zygerrian sun. It’s only when you notice yourself blushing like a teenager that you decide to make yourself useful and actually help with repairs like you promised.

++++++++++++++++++++

“Would you mind holding this wire out of the way for me while I solder the capacitors for the localised memory bank?” Tech calls, breaking your concentration. The illumination device you were repairing could wait.

You have no idea what Tech means, if his string of words means anything, and you survey his makeshift workbench for a hint. Several panels are detached, limply dangling from a few brightly coloured wires. Tech is focusing his attention on a large panel that is plugged into a cylindrical storage device.

“Maker, that’s a big data stick,” you can’t help but mutter.

Tech makes an incoherent choking sound.

You do as requested and lean over his shoulder to take hold of the wire he specified between your thumb and forefinger. The fabric of your sleeves brushes against his shoulder armour and it feels as though there is a static shift in the air, like the air around you is alive and humming.

And Tech gulps with the contact. He types a few sets of numbers into his datapad with excess force, seriously testing the build quality of the device. His posture is especially rigid as focuses on testing the wires currently in his lap.

Your pulse is racing. It’s as if each second that passes without a confession threatens to rip apart the very fabric of reality.

“Tech?” He has to feel this too, right? “Why...why did you stay behind today?” you ask, careful to keep your voice even. You need him to say it, admit that he feels it, too. You’re desperate for it.

“You can let go now,” he replied, pointedly ignoring your question.

You let go of the wire, but make no move to step away from him. You’re acutely aware of yourself right now and suddenly self-conscious: about the deep shade of crimson enveloping your face, the way you’re breathing, the clamminess you can feel on your palms. You hope you smell alright and silently pray that any traces of caf on your breath are long gone.

Several seconds pass before Tech looks up, over his shoulder at you. His face briefly flickers with concern.

“Your flushed features and increased heart rate indicates that you are nervous,” he remarks.

Maker, is it that obvious, you cringe.

Your mouth is dry and you contemplate making an excuse, but your brain does not want to cooperate.

“Sometimes I –,” you begin. Void, here I go. “Sometimes I get nervous around you,” you admit, attempting to make your confession sound as casual as possible. You bite your bottom lip in a way that you hope will be interpreted as sensual, or, at the very least, cute.

And Tech? Tech is flustered. Like visibly shaken, blushing furiously, two-steps-away-from-hyperventilating, kind of flustered.

“Please do not be nervous,” he responds tightly. Each word is taking considerable effort to be spoken. “I already told you: we trust you. I am not a threat to you.”

The poor guy. There’s no way he can really be misinterpreting that –.

“No, no, it’s a good kind of nervous,” you attempt to clarify.

“Nervousness is not conducive to high quality work,” Tech chokes out.

“No, I mean like giddy. I feel giddy around you.”

Come on, Tech.

“Would you like a chair–.”

“Stars, Tech, I like you!”

Tech...errors. He attempts to start several sentences with no success before mumbling an excuse that he has to go, “fix the reverse polarity capacitive inductor,” which, to your knowledge, is definitely not a real thing.

So maybe that could have gone better. All things considered, he did seem affected by your admission. On the other hand, he also left the room entirely.

Your face burns with embarrassment and, hey, maybe this backwater planet could make a decent home. Maybe the swamp water would be safe for consumption and you could spend the rest of your days foraging for swamp... berries. Sure, it might be a little uncomfortable, but no less uncomfortable than staying here for one more second.

And this is why you don’t admit your feelings to anyone. Ever.

Ugh. You were so confident, too. You squeeze your eyes shut, willing yourself to transport to another star system.

The door to the ‘fresher shuts, followed by a slight scuffle of feet, and a thunk that sounds decidedly like a head hitting the door.

You briefly consider leaving the ship to attempt to meet up with the rest of the Bad Batch. It’s been far too long since you’ve breathed fresh, clean, air and you feel a second wave of self-pity wash over you as you contemplate the thought of breathing in the smell of Wrecker’s feet for several more weeks in the Marauder’s circulated air. They hadn’t been gone longer than a standard hour and there was a clear path to get into town. You could still salvage the day, you could still stretch your legs–

‘Oh you want to know why I suddenly decided to join you, Hunter, after promising I’d help fix the ship? Funny story, I was trying to seduce your brother and he rejected me!’

You physically cringe at that. On second thought, maybe just pretending this didn’t happen would be the easier option. Lesser of two evils and all that.

Well, you’ve endured worse situations than this. Swamp berries, if they exist, probably won’t offer enough sustenance anyway, you conclude. You turn your attention to fixing several access panels that require little to no attention.

++++++++++++++++++++

It takes a long while for Tech to exit the ‘fresher. The door opens with a hiss and you stiffen, not looking up until he briskly walks past you and resumes his makeshift work station in the cockpit. Once he is seated and his back is facing you and you can hear the rhythmic tapping of his fingers on his datapad, you allow your entire body to relax.

You look back down to your newest project: fixing the swivel action on a chair. You’re not entirely sure if the chair needed to swivel, or whether it was supposed to, but it does now. At least Omega would have fun with that.

“Can you spare another minute?” Tech says after a considerable stretch of silence.

His comment catches you off-guard. It’s fine, it’s fine, you are just going to pretend like nothing happened. You can just carry on helping with actual repairs like you promised.

“I’m coming,” you say, while putting your entire weight into tightening a screw.

Tech coughs slightly.

“The, uh, I need your help with the cum system. The comm system!” he stutters.

Your eyes widen and decide it’s best not to comment, furiously thinking about the fact that Tech rarely makes mistakes. You wipe your hands on your trousers and stride over to the cockpit where Tech is fiddling with some wires on his lap.

“Take these,” he says while coiling a piece of wire to make a conductor. He pushes right through the awkwardness and places a handful of resistors in your outstretched hand.

You stand there in silence for several moments before you drum your fingers on the back of his chair. He makes no move to immediately utilise the resistors, so you resign yourself to stand there and watch him work. (You suppress a sigh – you wish you weren’t attracted to him at this moment, but here you are, drawn in by his confidence and fixated on watching his nimble fingers work their magic.)

Normally, you’d have already lost your patience. But not now, not when you are trying to decipher just what exactly Tech was trying to accomplish by calling you over and ignoring you. And that’s when you realise that Tech either forgot you were there or forgot to give you whichever menial task he originally intended.

But there’s absolutely no chance that Tech makes two mistakes within the same standard year, never mind two mistakes within the same afternoon.

You start to wonder if he even has any use for the resistors. Your knowledge of technology is limited, but you really don’t see how they’d be useful with his current task. Maybe this is Tech’s uncharacteristically inefficient way to try to initiate conversation. You really hope you’re not completely misreading the situation, but it’s not like you have any pride left to lose.

“Why did you stay behind today, Tech?” you ask quietly, voice tinged with apprehension and perhaps an unmistakable eagerness. You phrase it more like a statement than a question this time.

He continues to fidget, his leg bouncing anxiously as he works.

“I did some research,” he blurts. “Regarding intimacy between human males and human females.”

Huh.

“I read the specifics on how to kiss,” he continues, “but I fear that I am a bit out of my depth as to how I am supposed to initiate it.” He is still fussing with the wires in his lap, not quite able to look up at you.

“You...want to kiss?” you surmise, your heart thumping wildly in your chest. “Me?”

“Very much so.”

A grin breaks across your face and the sharp sting of Tech’s previous rejection immediately melts away. You deposit the handful of resistors in a tray containing various tools Tech had been using throughout the day before taking a tentative step forward from behind the chair. He cranes his neck to look at you, an unfamiliar expression that you’re not quite able to decipher written across his face.

You reach your hand out to caress his cheek, and sliding your hand down to his chin to guide it upwards as you bend down to bring your lips to his. The kiss is chaste, at first, but Tech proves himself a quick study as slightly parts his lips to deepen the kiss. His goggles nudge against your face and you’re pretty sure you’re leaving a greasy cheek print on one of them.

You pull away to gauge his reaction.

“Was that... satisfactory?” he asks, seemingly dazed. His eyes are hooded and still focused on your lips.

“It was perfect.” You offer a small smile.

He removes the goggles to clean one side of them with a nearby cloth. So you were leaving a cheek print. Once his goggles are back in place, he’s looking at you like he can’t quite believe you’re real, his golden brown eyes blinking owlishly at you.

“I apologise for leaving you earlier. I did not anticipate you returning my affections – it did not seem probable. And I was, regrettably, not prepared,” he mumbles.

“Probable?” It’s your turn to malfunction. You want to usher a thousand reassurances at once.

“Well, no.” Tech shifts his weight uncomfortably, not quite able to meet your eyes. “Hunter or Crosshair usually are the ones who capture the affections of –,”

“I like your goggles,” you interrupt in a rush before you surge forward to press your lips against his, hoping to convey just how much you return his affections. It’s a messy, urgent kiss that Tech returns with equal fervour. His fingers find their way into your hair, pulling you closer.

When you finally break the kiss, you straighten your back and take both of his hands in yours and take small, hesitant steps backwards, encouraging Tech to stand. As he does, the project he is working on slides off of his lap and clatters to the floor. He pays it no attention as he closes the distance between you, his eyes darkened with lust. He kisses you with renewed purpose as his hands wrap around your waist, roaming across your body, before they settle firmly on your ass.

Your hips grind into his codpiece and Tech lets out a low groan that goes straight to your core. He moves to kiss the curve of your neck, sucking at the delicate skin and making you squirm. The dampness between your legs becomes apparent and you press yourself closer to him, desperate for friction where you need it the most. As if he can read your mind, he trails a hand from your ass and places it between your legs, grazing over your clit before cupping your cunt. You involuntarily rock into his hand and moan into his mouth, hardly recognising the sounds you’re making.

Tech’s hand abruptly stills as he draws back to meet your eyes. His expression mirrors yours: searching wide eyes filled with longing, a silent acknowledgement passes between you as you reach the point of no return.

And in that moment you are struck with the urge to want nothing more than his cock in your mouth.

“Can I?” you blurt, glancing downward, hoping he is able to intuit exactly what you are suggesting in that moment.

“You may.” You allow the grammatical correction to slip by. “But I’ve never–,” he begins.

You don’t break eye contact and you begin to drop to your knees. He’s looking at you with his eyes wide, mouth slack. Tech’s bulged codpiece is mere inches from your face, and it’s in that moment that you realise that you have no idea how to undress this man.

And this, this is when you start to worry.

Does it have a latch? Does it even come off?

Your eyes dart from left to right looking for some sort of hint as to how it could be removed. You’re half tempted to just plant a smooch on the armour or the kiss inside of his thigh and pretend that all of this was intentional.

“I can get that,” Tech helpfully chimes in, blessedly oblivious to your internal struggle. He removes the pelvic plate with ease and, to your relief, you can see the shape of his erection straining under a layer of thick black fabric. Black fabric that conforms to his body shape exceedingly well. You reach out to feel his length, gently cupping his balls through the fabric before applying more pressure as you palm his shaft. He soft groan escapes his lips.

It catches you a little off guard, actually, to see him so hard. Knowing he’s been hard underneath his armour this entire time. Wondering when else he’s been hard and you had been none the wiser.

His cock has an attractive silhouette – it’s thicker than you expected and you can feel the patch of pre-cum that dampens the black fabric near his tip. You reach for his waistband and pull it down before slowly wrapping a hand around his shaft. He hisses with the contact and brings a white-knuckled fist to his lips.

You peer up at him through your lashes and you lick your lips, preparing to tease him a bit before taking him as deep as you can manage.

And that’s when something inside Tech snaps.

He looks down at you with wild eyes and places his hand on the back of your head to guide your mouth to his cock, apparently unable to continue the role of a passive observer for any longer. Clearly intent at putting his newfound research to good use. You lick a wet stripe from the base to the tip, before taking him in your mouth, the pre-cum tangy on your tongue. His grip tightens on your hair the same time he tilts his hips forward to push his cock further and you hollow your cheeks, sucking hard enough to make Tech groan and his knees buckle. He braces himself against the back of the pilot’s chair, captivated at the sight your mouth stretched around his length.

You begin to bob your head in a steady rhythm, taking him as deep as you’re able. You drag your tongue and press it flush on the underside of his cock, looking up at Tech with wide doe eyes, batting your eyelashes prettily as he struggles to maintain composure. You continue your pace until sweat starts to bead at his temple and his breathing becomes less controlled.

Patience isn’t your strong point and you’re too pent up not to touch yourself. You bring your free hand down your trousers, between your thighs, running your fingers through your wet folds and hum at the sensation. Tech’s hips stutter with the vibrations and his face contorts in what looks like a pained grimace. He takes a miniature step back and your lips leave his cock with a pop. He’s breathing heavily now and his weeping cock is painfully hard, his balls tight.

“I don’t want to finish in your mouth, mesh’la,” he pants, voice low.

You nod dumbly, currently unable to form a coherent thought or tear your eyes away from his erect length, only inches away from your face.

Tech takes hold of both of your forearms, helping you get to your feet, before wrapping his hands around your thighs, picking you up with surprising ease. You lock your thighs around his torso as he strides over to press you against one of the auxiliary control panels adjacent to the co-pilot’s chair in the cockpit. The incline on the panel is steep and the pressure of his hips against yours is the only thing keeping you from sliding down.

“Let me taste you,” Tech groans against your ear.

You let out a frustrated whine and desperately move to unclasp your trousers as Tech works to open your shirt. You shudder once the cool air hits your sweat-dampened skin and Tech messily palms your exposed breast while nipping at your neck. He helps you shimmy out of your clothing while holding you in firmly place before discarding them on the floor of he Marauder.

And this is how you find yourself spread eagle on the Marauder's control panel in possibly the most undignified position you’ve ever been in.

He goes to remove his goggles and you stop him.

“If they’re not uncomfortable for you, I’d like for you to leave them on.” He quirks a brow at you, quizzical. “What? I told you that they’re cute.”

His face evolves from sceptical to bashful in a few moments.

“Very well, then. I can leave them on.”

Tech moves his hands under your thighs as he lowers himself, draping your legs across each of his shoulders with surprising gentleness for a man who looks like he is ready to devour you. Once he’s on his knees and comfortably supporting your weight, keeping you pressed against the console, he places an open-mouthed kiss on the inside of your thigh.

“A-are you okay with this?” you manage to stutter out. It’s not like you haven’t pictured his head between your thighs before, but something about his head actually being between your thighs fills you with a nervousness you hadn’t anticipated.

He mumbles his assurances against your clit. He begins with slow, languid licks and you suck in a sharp breath as you feel yourself craving more and have to stop yourself from violently bucking your hips up.

Okay, so he’s actually really good at this. You know you really shouldn’t be that surprised, Tech is nothing if not thorough with his research and it’s, er, practical applications. Any thoughts of humour at Tech’s expense are, however, ripped from your mind when he sinks a single finger inside your cunt. His finger curls with a precision that only Tech could manage and you moan in encouragement as he pumps it in and out.

You squirm when he hits the spot that makes you want to beg for more and you feel your bare ass hit a button on the console. The next thing you hear is a soft swish swish sound of the Marauder's screen wipers that you inadvertently turned on. Mercifully, it doesn’t break Tech’s concentration and his hands continue to grip your hips, holding your cunt to his face.

“Don’t stop, don’t stop, please don’t stop,” you chant. You writhe again and another button sounds its activation. Nothing immediately makes itself known. You hope it’s not something like a proton torpedo firing into the swampy area the Marauder landed in. Not because there’s anything nearby, but because you’ll die if Tech stops here.

He moans into your core as he brings a hand down to grip his leaking cock, desperate for some friction.

“Kriff,” you grunt at the sight of him fucking his fist, only to hear Tech utter the same exclamation at the same time.

“Is there an echo in here or something?” You smile at him, offering a half-laugh before your face contorts with pleasure once again and you hiss through your teeth.

“Yes?” a new, tinny voice chimes in on the overhead speaker system. “This is Echo... You’ve, uh, turned on the short range comm system.”

You knew Tech was a good soldier, but the reflexes in which he slammed the short range comm transmitter with his free hand surprised you. He didn’t move himself from between your thighs and skilfully cut off the transmission while continuing to work your clit with his tongue and your cunt with his finger.

Before you could die from embarrassment and wonder just how much Echo and the rest of the Batch heard, Tech adds another finger and your entire body jerks and tenses.

“I’ve – ah, right there – Maker, that feels good. I’ve never been with anyone who is patient enough to let me come,” you manage to say through gritted teeth.

“My research indicated that it can take around 20 standard minutes for women to orgasm if properly relaxed, why would others stop prematurely?” Tech replies, only briefly removing his mouth from your cunt to reply.

“Selfishness?” you guess.

Tech seemed to take your admission (and ability to form sentences) personally, clearly intent on rendering you incapacitated. He returns to his attention to your clit and maintains his rhythm, teasing a third finger near your entrance. You whine at the sensation and move to hold Tech’s head in place, because if he stops now, there’s no way you’ll ever forgive him. The pressure that’s been mounting in your core finally, finally peaks and your entire body tenses as you surrender to your climax.

“Tech,” you whine, unable to formulate thoughts, let alone words.

He assures you with a soft groan and tightens his grip on your hip. He can feel your walls clenching around his fingers as he guides you through your climax.

As you come down from your orgasm, you feel like you’ve spent a year in bacta. You can’t move. Honestly, your bones are like Andorian jelly. The feeling is only temporary, however, as you’re overcome with the desire – no, need – to be filled.

“In me,” you urge. “Now.”

He adjusts his goggles and looks at you, spread out, completely ready for him.

“Lie back then.”

Tech settles between your thighs and nudges his cock head against your entrance. He takes a breath to steady himself, rubbing his length through your folds, covering it in your arousal.

“So wet and ready for me, mesh’la.”

Your hands wildly grasp at his chest plate, fingernails scratching along the plastoid, desperate to hold onto anything to anchor you. You meet his mouth with a graceless kiss, before he finally sinks into you.

“You’re tight,” he grits out.

He waits a few moments letting you adjust to his size before he begins to move. He restrains himself, slowly rolling his hips as your cunt stretches around his length.

“More,” you plead, breathlessly. “Please.”

Your encouragement is all he needs before he snaps his hips against yours, setting an unrelenting rhythm. He rocks into you harder with each thrust of his hips, his plastoid leg places slapping your skin.

“You feel so good, cyar'ika,” he pants. You surge upwards to greet his lips with a messy kiss, which only spurs him on to fuck you faster. “You’re, ah, taking me so well.”

“Fuck –,” you whine.

His grip tightens and his whole body starts to tense – he’s dangerously close to coming undone. And that’s when you notice his pace start to slow, his movements clearly distracted.

“Tech?” you mumble. You focus your eyes on his face and he looks dazed, you can practically hear him thinking. You’re about to ask him what’s wrong, but he doesn’t give you any time to panic.

“Elevate your hips by seven to ten degrees,” he states through heavy breaths.

“What?” Definitely not what you were expecting him to say.

Tech seems unfazed by your apparent annoyance. He wordlessly repositions himself, grabbing both of your hips and raising them slightly, holding your body up so it’s just the sharp incline of the console and Tech’s hands keeping you in place.

He began thrusting in earnest again, his eyes screwing shut in pleasure. And, Maker, he was right. The new angle hits a spot that makes your toes curl and you lose the ability to speak almost instantly and mewl helplessly as Tech fucks into you.

You made an undignified noise as you gripped his bicep, desperate to hold onto something, feeling the pressure mount in your core. With Tech’s hands busy holding you in place as he maintains a brutal pace, you bring a hand down to your clit, still wet with spit and your own essence. You barely have to touch yourself before you feel your body screaming for release.

“’M coming,” is all the warning you are able to give him before your cunt spasms around his twitching cock as your vision whites out. Tech grunts at the sensation, unable to hold his own climax off any longer.

“Where do you want me to –,” he grates out.

“Anywhere,” you cut him off, still feeling the aftershocks of your orgasm. “Just want to feel you.”

“Fuck, mesh’la, I’m going to come,” Tech groans, desperately chasing his release with harsh thrusts. His hips forcefully buck into you before his cock stiffens and he spills himself inside of you. He buries his face in your neck, slowly pumping you full of his cum, before he slumps against you. “Bid jate par me,” he mumbles into your neck, barely audible. “Gotal par me.”

You don’t know Mando’a, but whatever he is saying, the way he is saying it, sends a pleasant chill over your body.

You’re both still breathing heavily when Tech gingerly places you back down with a surprising gentleness for someone who had just been fucking you within an inch of your life. He’s in no rush to remove himself from you, but when his softened cock does slip out and his cum leaks out of you and onto the console, he helps you slide down. When your feet touch the floor, your legs wobble slightly and Tech has to grasp your forearms to steady you, softly chuckling at the state you’re in.

And when you look at him, he looks positively debauched. Sated, but debauched. You probably look worse.

In one swift motion he bends down, brings an arm down under your knees, and lifts you up. You wrap your arms around your neck while he carries you to his bunk. His cool armour against your overheated skin is a welcome sensation and you press yourself closer.

“Your research paid off,” you mumble into his chest as he sets you down on his bed.

“Please do not act so surprised by that.”

++++++++++++++++++++

You and Tech aren’t quite finished with the repairs by the time the Batch return hours later, long after the moons have risen and the bioluminescent plants surrounding the ship have begun to glow. If the squad notice you’re sitting a bit too close to Tech, your thigh pressing comfortably against his, they don’t say anything.

Neither of you were expecting to defile the Marauder all day and Tech was frantically fixing the lever on a storage hatch access panel, attempting to make up for lost time.

“Wrecker!” Echo shouts. “Clean up after yourself, for kriff’s sake.”

“Why?” Wrecker drawls, stomping towards the cockpit. “What did I do this time?”

“You’ve spilled your juice on the console again, all the keys are stuck in place.”

The access lever snaps clean off in Tech’s hands.

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itsagrimm · 3 years

Text

Imperial Tech 5

CN: soldier life in a fascist state, getting observed and recorded, violence, drug abuse, getting drugged without explicit consent, memory loss, forbidden relationship, getting carried + lifted up, tech & ONCE doing a lot of selfreflecting

Summary: The scenario plays out with Techs and not Crosshairs inhibitor chip working. Y/N is part of the elite squad working under commander Tech. Y/N gets called ES-01 or ONCE by their team somethimes. Previously, they killed senator Tarr, took the Syndullas into custody and are now on the hunt for Hera. (Basically everything just like in the show except for Tech in charge instead of Crosshair)

Imperial Tech X They Them Reader

Part 4

XXXXXX

Ryloth was starting to become Techs least favourite planet to been on. The planet had a challenging terrain, Admiral Rampart was continuously holding him back, but most importantly the dust forced Tech to clean his glasses several times per rotation.

But even with the dirt gone from the lenses the screens showing surveillance data from all Ryloth gave no clue to Hera Syndullas whereabouts.

Tech leaned back. He just needed to be patient. Hera would turn up sooner or later. Children had a high dependency and emotional connection to their caretakers and were unlikely to leave them behind even it was the most rational decision to ensure their own survival.

A part of his mind kept observing and evaluating the data. Another part wandered off. This morning Y/N had cried. Tech had wanted to keep Y/N close so that he could keep the one person calming him down safe, but he had failed. His miscalculation and lack of information about Y/N inner workings had come with the cost of Y/N breaking down into his arms. The regret of carrying out a killing order was too much for Y/N. His command was the direct cause for their pain. And yet Y/N only had whispered about the Empire and service to it itself as root for their misery. A grand and dangerous claim, still Tech could see some causality between the Empire existing and Y/N’s suffering.

But he still hated himself.

Tech had scrambled the recording in Y/N’s helmet to keep this treasonous confession off the records. And he had sedated Y/N to buy them some time to collect themselves. Extrapolating from the way the former clone force 99 had been treated the Empire would never allow a soldier like Y/N to feel regret or be critical and would punish every kind of perceived treason or weakness. And so, his report noted a minor concussion. As a trained medic and commander no one had questioned his claims. For now, he had at least in some way kept his ONCE safe even it was just picking up the pieces of his previous mistake. Another wave of self-loathing washed over Tech.

But at the same time, he felt pride swelling up his chest. The feeling of him carrying Y/N into the security of the LAAT. Their head resting on his shoulder. Half-closed eyes searching for answers from him and lips whispering Tech.

He grinned.

Oh yes, he could get used to that.

The memory was intoxicating. His overclocked mind stuttered at the thought of Y/N’s body in his arms. Like always Y/N calmed and slowed his thought process like nothing ever before.

Tech breathed in and took another look at the data before him. Still no sign of Hera Syndulla. The comm was silent as well. Surprisingly pleased he took a sip of caf before devoting his main attention to Y/N again.

Tech had arrived at the conclusion that he cared for ES-01. He wanted to know everything about them. A part of his brain spiralled around with a constant loop of thoughts about them and their well-being. And just the thought of Y/N’s physical presence near him gave him a calm he had never known before even with his brothers.

He knew that his attachment to his subordinate was forbidden. And he knew that whatever his feelings and basically needfor Y/N in his life were likely not reciprocated. He was just a clone even with his desirable mutations. And he was their commander. Any kind of romantic interaction - not even including physical interaction - was unlikely, overreaching and a danger for them both.

All he had for himself was a little mental box of lovely little memories and even lovelier fantasies of Y/N that kept him occupied in the refresher. That had to be enough.

Another sip from the caf and glance at the monitors. No Hera Syndulla to be found. Nothing of particular interest to note. He checked the comm chatter for news about the Empire or his brothers but there was nothing as well.

But it was fine to ask if Y/N was fine, right? He was their commander and he had given the order to give them some rest, so he was his duty to require report, right?

Tech thought about his brothers. They would know what to do now. Wrecker would support and reassure him no matter what he did. Echo would keep his opinion to himself until asked or in severe disagreement. Hunter would sit down next to Tech, pat him on the shoulder and tilt his head for 12,4 degrees right before giving advice. And Crosshair would just grumble about Tech overthinking again and then just pointing out the most straight forward action.

Crosshair decision making was the easiest to replicate for Tech now.

So that is what he did.

“ES-01?”

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The bunk room on Ryloth was dark. Someone must have pulled down the blinds. The other members of the elite squad and commander Tech were gone. Y/N checked their comm. Apparently the team was on the hunt for the little Twi’lek girl, that had escaped. Y/N was expected to rest.

What happened?

Their memory was still foggy. The last thing Y/N remembered was being at the canyon, the overwhelming feeling of regret, of breaking down and of commander Tech.

He had…

Y/N checked their arm. A little puncture was visible there.

Yes, a part of their memory slowly returned.

Tech had sedated Y/N. He had drugged them. He had carried them and-

Y/N pulled back the thin blanket. He had removed their armour. Y/N blushed. The memory of his long fingers with little scars carefully peeling Y/N out of the plastoid was rising from the depth of their mind like a lazy fish breaking surface of a deep dark pond.

The door to the bunk room opened. Y/N looked up expecting to see one of the returning elite squad members. Instead, Captain Howzer, clone commander of all the regular troopers on Ryloth, entered. Y/N rose and saluted. He was not in charge of the elite squad, but he outranked Y/N immensely. Howzer just waved them to stand comfortably.

“ES-01, there is no need for such formalities. I hope I am not disturbing you?”

“Not at all. I was left to recover from the last mission. But I am well enough now. How can I help you, sir?”

Howzer smiled. It was a friendly smile, honest and a bit sad.

“They call you ONCE, right? And your squat uses they/them for you?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Mind if I do that too? Numbers and assignments are a bit impractical sometimes so us clones use monikers, but I don’t know too much about naturally born’s and their naming traditions.”

Howzers smile turned a bit shy.

“Not at all, captain. It’s alright.”

Howzer sat down on one of the bunks in front of ONCE. ONCE followed his lead and fell back on their bunk. Now they sat in the small room, their knees nearly touching and smiling like young cadets in polite anticipation.

An awkward second none of them spoke.

“I appreciate you checking on me. But I am sure you are not only here to ask about my health, sir.”

Howzer looked away like he got caught pranking.

“Well… I do think it is my job to make sure everyone on my base is fine. Even if you are not under my command and it isn’t technically my base anymore.” He cleared his throat. “But I do actually need something else from you as well.”

ONCE studies his face. He was a high-ranking officer, an experienced soldier and - like all clones - a warrior. And despite the harsh realities of war that shaped all the clone trooper’s life’s, Howzer had maintained youthfulness in his demeanour. Even now, he looked at ONCE with an open and careful expression.

“What can I do for you, captain?” ONCE finally answered and hinted at the helmet and the build-in listening device as a careful reminder that their conversation wasn’t confidential.

“ONCE, I need to know what happened up there in the canyon.”

“Sir, I am sure I can’t add to what you already know from the reports.” ONCE replied defensively. Whatever Y/N might feel about their life as a soldier, talking openly about their work was a luxury they could not afford. Especially when Y/N was still working through the fragmented memories of being carried and stripped out of their armour by commander Tech.

“The reports do not mention anyone up the canyon.” Howzer continued. “And yet I know that commander Tech had carried you nearly unconscious and a sniper rifle with you both to an LAAT ship that picked you up. And I know that the Twi’lek senator Tarr got hit by a precise blast coming from somewhere of the top of the canyon. I was there. I know what I saw. And I can add all these information together. You need to tell me why it happened.”

Howzers voice had become demanding and intimidating.

And yet he still had the expression of a young man in disbelieve of the atrocities happening in plain sight. ONCE felt hopelessness and regret rising again. Howzer just wanted to understand but it was impossible to explain the banalities of evil at work. The Empire was power hungry. The Twi’leks were resistant. And Tarr had died because he outlived his usefulness as a pawn in this power struggle, killed by ONCE. They remembered that much. But with the listening device in their helmet close by ONCE was in no position to confess without getting court martialled afterwards - if they were lucky.

There was nothing ONCE could say.

“I am sorry, captain. I can only recall very little. But it seems you already know what happened. I am sure you will understand why it happened and that I had no pleasure in following command. But I am a soldier -maybe a bit like you. We are expected to follow orders whatever the costs and then continue on like nothing happened.”

ONCE smiled, hoping he would understand.

Howzer nodded, his expression now nothing but hopeless and lost like a little boy without his family.

ONCE took his gloved hand and squeezed it reassuringly.

It was a familiar gesture between two equally helpless hostages not in control of their life’s.

A desperate look crossed Howzer before he silently formed a word with his lips, carefully hiding his message from the listening device.

Hera

It was the Twi’lek kids name that got away. The kid, that the elite squat was hunting down.

ONCE shook their head.

No, they don’t have her. Yet.

Y/N’s comm lighted up – the Commander calling in.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Commander Tech was in the observation room. Various monitors displayed a never-ending racing flow of surveillance data in aurebesh, numbers and holo transmissions.

Most of it was in in Basic, some wasn’t.

Staring at it with a cup of caf in his hands was the commander.

“How are you feeling?” He asked without looking away from the screens.

“Better.”

In the blue tinted electronic light coming from the holo screens Y/N could see Tech raising an eyebrow.

“I am not only your commander but also your medic. Are you sure you are fine and therefore fit for duty?”

Y/N considered the underlying question. Do you want to return to being a soldier?

“Sir, as long as I am well enough to perform, I am expected to serve.” I don’t have a choice but to return. I can walk steady on both my feet and hold a gun therefore I am good enough to be cannon fodder again. That’s what I signed up for.

Tech tilted his head and took a sip from his cup.

“That is valid point you’re making. As you can see, I am a bit busy with searching the run-away Hera Syndulla. Officially, I can’t examine and clear you fit for duty right now. But I will take your word under the condition you stay close to me in case something happens. Is that alright with you?”

ONCE considered. The commander was asking for a favour. He wasn’t ordering. And he had not only covered for them once but was concerned about their safety. In the oddest way possible and considering the circumstances ONCE was tempted to call this romantic.

“Yes, sir. It is.”

Y/N sat down next to Tech.

“Do you remember everything from this morning, ONCE?”

His tone was casual. But there was more to it.

“I…yes, I think I remember everything.” ONCE paused looking at Tech. His face was unmoved and impression-less. His eyes hidden behind the lenses, blue by the mirroring screens. “Sir, I am very thankful for your… actions.”

Still, nothing. Maybe all his kindness and patience with ONCE was imagined. Maybe he was just their commander and his reasons from saving ONCE from military questioning and punishment was purely practical.

ONCE felt like an utter fool.

“Fascinating.”

“I am sorry, sir?” Confused they looked at the commander.

“Comm the squad and get your full gear. We are getting attacked.”

An alarm went off.

ONCE saw several alarms popping up on the screens.

A feeling of dread and terror rose in ONCE. Returning to duty was one thing. Entering a fight was another.

Tech grabbed them at the arm, pulling them closer and forcing them to look up to his towering dark height. “Remember, stay close to me.”

XXXXXXXXXX

Y/N left Tech with a look of anxiety and confusion in their eyes.

*crack*

He grimaced painfully. He had broken the cup in his hands, caf dripping down on his armoured leg now. Maybe hiding everything about himself from Y/N would be harder than he thought it would be.

He sighted and allowed himself to linger a bit more on the thought of Y/N and before devoting himself to the tasks ahead.

Someone had attacked the refinery.

What an odd choice. Was it a coincidence with the Syndullas in custody here on the base? Or was there a plan and connection between those facts?

His eyes squinted to see better. Damn Ryloth and its dust. His googles were dirty again.

The Surveillance data showed the leaving troopers going to the refinery. Quiet a lot of them.

If all those troopers left, who would guard the prisoners?

Tech leant back. Caf dripping down his leg, glasses dirty and surrounded by idiots. What was he doing here?

Movement on the screens made Tech face the wall of monitors again.

The surveillance camera transmitted a stream from the refinery with two clones running over the fortified walls.

Echo.

Hunter.

His brothers were here. Tech felt his body respond with a rush of endorphins he quickly tried to ignore.

Think Tech! Don’t let these traitors distract you! What does their presence mean?

He was sure now. Directly attacking the refinery was too simple. Even without him the strategies of his brothers always were absurdly chaotic and erratic. The straight attack just had to be a distraction.

He opened a comm channel to his elite squat.

“Commander speaking. Come to the base shipyard as soon as possible.”

“Sir, isn’t the attack on the refinery?”

“I know, ES-04. Just follow your orders.”

“But sir-“

Tech ended his connection and rolled his eyes. His brothers never had reacted like that. They always knew he had reasons behind his actions.

Frustrated he threw away the broken cup and put on his helmet.

The shipyard was nearly empty. Most LAAT’s and smaller ship were off to the refinery. The attack had drawn nearly all forces away.

ONCE and the Elite squat waited for commander Tech. A couple of regs were with them.

“Who are those?” Tech required.

“Sir, the regular troopers were off duty. I called them in for back up.”, ONCE replied. As always, they were the only one thinking and getting what he had already figured out.

“Good. Get into position before the main gate. Facing inward.”

“The enemy is inside already?”

“Likely. And this is their way out.”

“They? Who is our enemy?”

“Clone force 99.”

The door opened.

Both troopers and elite squad raised arms. But instead of prisoners or the bad batch, Howzer stepped outside.

“Oh.” Tech stated flatly. He hadn’t considered the inner emotional workings at play. Again.

“Brothers!” Howzer call out to the troopers. “What are we doing? We came her to free Ryloth from separatist control. And we succeeded. But look around you. Now we are being ordered to target the very people we sworn to protect! And I will not be a part of it any longer.”

The captain threw down his weapon.

“Who is with me?”

For a short second no one moved. Tech felt his head running at high speed, calculating every option for further action. ONCE, standing next to him, started shaking.

He went cold.

If ONCE threw down their weapons now, they were dead. Tech could do nothing to save them from the empire. Admiral Rampart or whoever imperial was in charge would court martial them. Y/N would be dead. He didn’t need to calculate the chances for that, to know their survival rate were slim.

Please don’t leave me. Tech, suddenly ready to pray to whoever gods were willing to listen to his pleas, leant towards Y/N, unable to stop himself.

They stopped shaking the moment his armour touched theirs.

Some of the regs laid down their weapons. ONCE kept their rifle, unmovable. Relief washed over Tech.

“Arrest those traitors.” He ordered, thinking of anything else but the one person he truly wanted to be saved right now. Even if he had to sacrifice a battalion of regs for that to draw attention away from Y/N.

The elite squad and the loyal troopers moved in. Tech felt detached from what was happening. Nothing mattered. Not even the shuttle with his brothers lifting off somewhere.

He wanted Y/N, wanted to hold them and whisper sweet words and promises he damn well intended on keeping just to make sure that they would be fine and safe. He looked up to see his Y/N putting hand cuffs on Howzer, sneaking a small blade into his boot. His brain registered it but did not care. As far as he was concerned ONCE could commit every act of treason and he would still be ready to commit mass murder just to cover their tracks. Whatever Tech had thought he could keep to himself was brought bare before him the moment Y/N had been in mortal danger, his need for Y/N unable to be hidden.

>>>>>

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<<<<<<<

Part 6

#tbb toxic tech #tbb tech #tech x you #imperial tech #tech x y/n #tech x reader #the bad batch tech #tech bad batch #tech #the galactic empire #tbb #the bad batch #grimmwriting #i shortend this one because i was sitting on it and basically half wrote the next chapter already #star wars the bad batch #tbb tech fic #captain howzer

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imabeautifulbutterfly · 3 years

Text

The Reunion - Part 2

Summary: We meet up with our crew after they have left Barab and after Friday’s episode of the Bad Batch getting their chips removed. Hunter x Reader. Echo x Reader.

A/N: Italics - Past conversations

The quotes Crosshair says during his nightmares are directly from the Bad Batch episodes. All rights for those quotes, belong directly to the geniuses working on the Bad Batch TV show at Disney.

Warnings: Slight mention of a beating, nothing described. Medical procedures.

If I miss a warning, just let me know.

Words: 4,608

AO3 Link

Drop some love, a comment or a reblog, it’s all appreciated. If you want to be tagged, let me know.

Previous -> Masterlist -> Next

“We don’t usually work with regs”

“Grow up, Wrecker”

“If your plans are so good, why did Commander Cody have to call us in?”

“An order is an order”

“Since when?”

“Good soldiers follow orders”

“He had us disobeying orders”

“I never thought you disobeying orders was a problem”

“Disobeying orders again over a kid?”

“You’re becoming a liability”

“You disobeyed orders”

“I did what I thought was right”

“You should have killed that Jedi, you disobeyed orders.”

“You never could see the bigger picture. Now surrender.”

“Best stand down sergeant, make it easier on yourself.”

“Have you lost your mind?”

“Your move”

“Bad play, Hunter”

“You want to know why they put me in charge? It’s because I’m willing to do what needs to be done.”

“What seems to be the problem with CT-9904?” Lama Su asked Nala Se

The two Kaminoans looked on behind the one way mirror, “medic, what seems to be the problem with CT-9904?” asked Nala Se.

I looked towards the mirrored glass, “he’s having a nightmare”, I glanced from the mirror to Crosshair that laid on the med bed before me. The Kaminoans wanted his inhibitor chip to be constantly activated and operating at peak efficiency; if they lost him, they would lose the backing of Admiral Tarkin, something they couldn’t have.

How I wished Hunter was here? How I wished I got to the ship in time? I wished for a lot of things, mostly I wished that Crosshair’s chip hadn’t been activated, and that as the medic for Clone Force 99, I wasn’t the one in charge of keeping his chip activated. Every time he laid down on that med bed, a little bit of me died. I had to do this to my friend, my family, Hunter’s brother. I tried at first to say that the chip was damaged, it wouldn’t activate, but they quickly dealt with my deception, in the form of a beating from two of the Clones who had taken me under their wing. The beating from the two had knocked me out, when I came to Bad Batch was gone, Omega, my little helper, was gone, and Crosshair had tried to kill his own brothers.

What’s worse is that Crosshair looked for every opportunity to wound me with his words, he wasn’t my Crosshair, he wasn’t the man I had grown to know and love as a brother.

‘Must be miserable to know you fell in love with a traitor.’

‘How does it feel knowing they left you?’

‘Only the Empire can provide what you need’

‘Join them and die’

“He seems to be having a particularly disturbing dream, he keeps thrashing” that voice, oh I hated that voice, it was responsible for the so called War Mantle project, Vice Admiral Rampart. How I wish he could be the one on this bed before me, so I could make him suffer, the way he’s making Crosshair suffer.

“Indeed” oh there’s that other voice, Admiral Tarkin. I loathed both men, and would be happy to see both die a very slow painful death.

“I do not believe we should continue for much longer, the procedure could cause irreparable damage”, I suggested. I’m sorry Crosshair, I hope you can hear me. I’m so sorry.

“Very well” Admiral Tarkin’s voice filled the room, I could almost feel his breath on my skin. It was revolting.

“End the procedure, medic Kambe”

“Yes, Prime Minister”

I turned off the machine and watched as Crosshair's tortured face relaxed. I moved beside him, and disconnected him from the machine, he was still unconscious, at this moment and I could pretend he was still my family, he was still the same Crosshair. The one who taught me to shoot a target five klicks out. The one who would tease Hunter and me, when we would go out on a date. The one who said he always wanted a sister, and was happy I was his. I discreetly held his hand, rubbing circles with my thumb on the back of his hand. I’m sorry Crosshair. I’m so sorry Cross.

- - - - - - - -

“That medic seems very attached to CT-9904” Admiral Tarkin noticed

“Yes, she was the medic for Clone Force 99. She got to know them very well and went on several missions with them.”

“Interesting. She may prove useful.”

“How do you mean Admiral?” Asked Vice Admiral Rampart

“She may know something the clone doesn’t, or she could be used as bait, to bring in the others”

“Admiral, I must protest” Nala Se interjected, “she, unlike the clones, is not Empire property, she is hired by the Kaminoan facility, and works directly for us.”

“And yet, she gets paid via the Empire, does she not? Or do you pay her directly, Prime Minister?”

“Uh … I would have to check our records, Admiral Tarkin”

“Don’t bother, I have checked already. She gets paid by the Empire. She used to receive funds from the Republic, and has subsequently received funds from the Empire, therefore she is a servant and employed by the Empire. As such, we have the right to do as we wish with our workers.”

“Admiral, I would be more than happy to take over … keeping an eye on the medic” offered Vice Admiral Rampart.

“That is not necessary, it seems we have the best thing to keep an eye on her already” he motioned towards the unconscious clone.

- - - - - - - - -

Although, I couldn’t hear what was being said behind the glass, I could sense eyes on me. I grabbed a data pad and pretended to check Crosshair's vitals. If they were going to stay there watching me, then they wouldn’t get anything except a medic doing her job. There had to be a way to get the chip out of his head, someway to go under the radar. If Cross was back to normal then he and I would be able to get off of Kamino and find the boys.

I heard the door slide open behind me, “Medic Kambe”, I turned to face Nala Se, she was the only Kaminoan that I could somewhat tolerate, although in the end she was the biggest problem of all, as the Chief Medical Scientist, if it wasn’t for her, so many soldiers wouldn’t have been killed and treated less than they deserved.

“Yes, Nala Se?”

“You can move clone CT-9904 to the recovery room”

“Yes, Nala Se”

She stepped closer to me, it was odd and threw me off. She disliked me more than anyone else, simply for making the clones feel like people and not property, it was one of the reasons I was assigned to an actual team, rather than the Kaminoan facility in general. “You need to be careful,” she said in a lowered voice.

I kept busy preparing Cross for transport, “what do you mean?” I asked in a similar whisper, “they’re watching you, they want to use you to bring back Clone Force 99 and Omega. We can’t have her land in the hands of the Empire.”

“I understand”

“Please be quick about transporting the clone, Admiral Tarkin wishes to see what effect the new enhancement has on CT-9904” she said in a louder voice.

“He has a name”

“He is a clone. Clone CT-9904.”

“His name is Crosshair!”

“Medic Kambe! One more outburst and I’ll have you restricted to your quarters and brought up on charges of treason. Do you understand?”

“Yes”

“Good” without further word she stepped out of the room, maker I hated her. I really did.

I looked at Cross one more time, he had a slight scarring from where the machine had performed it’s procedure. My only hope would be to perform surgery at night, or maybe if I was able to go on a mission with Cross again, distract him, get him isolated, and perform the surgery. We both needed to get out of here, and soon.

- - - - - - -

“I don’t know if the plan will work” Fives offered

“Oh I’m sorry, do you have something better, vod?”

“Listen Phoenix Ghost, we are not judging you, it just seems risky” offered Hunter

“Well, what do you want to do?” I asked, Rex had just left after we were able to get the chips out of the remaining Bad Batch, the idea was to take the med pod with us, or at the very least take it and hide it on a planet that we could bring Crosshair to.

“Why can’t we just use the method you did before, with the other clones?”

“That would require us going to a safe clone planet, the nearest one has over 500 of your brothers, inhabiting it. I would gladly take you there, if the Empire thought you were dead. However, as of right now, the risk is too great that someone would follow you, or someone spot your ship and decide to report you to the Empire simply for credits. I’m sorry but I’m not putting your brothers at risk. Either we find a way to bring Crosshair here, or find a way to bring the med pod to Crosshair.”

“Cyar’ika, it’s okay. We trust you”

“Really, cause if you trusted me, you wouldn’t be questioning the plan right now”

“It’s just dangerous” Tech tried to reassure me.

I couldn’t help the glare that had appeared on my face, “seriously Tech? That’s your pathetic platitude, that it’s just dangerous. Everything we’ve ever done, from the moment we either joined or were sold to the GAR has been a life filled with danger. I personally have a scar on almost every quadrant of my body from one injury or another.”

They all looked to Echo, who simply nodded. Oh that was it, “WHY ARE YOU LOOKING AT HIM? DO YOU HONESTLY THINK I WOULD LIE ABOUT THAT?!!!”

“No, of course not” Hunter tried to calm me down, but the anger within was growing from their… I guess lack of trust.

“Cyar’ika”

“Don’t Echo! Don’t Cyar’ika me!”

Echo let out a frustrated breath, being back with Echo was amazing, it’s like we hadn’t missed a beat, all those years being apart had evaporated within a matter of minutes.

“Fine, ner riduur”

Ugh! Why did he have to tug that cord? All the anger I had a second ago washed away at remembering that we had indeed gotten married, I dropped my shoulders and my head to my chest. As soon as we were off Barab, we had found a place to lay low for a few weeks. Echo didn’t want to waste anymore time and proposed, I didn’t want to waste any time either and said yes. We both had wasted too many years apart, to waste another second not being with each other, was downright idiotic.

Fives had been his best man, Omega was my flower girl, Hunter walked me down the aisle, Tech officiated and Wrecker stood in as my man of honour. Rex had come to wish us well, after the ceremony, he pulled me aside and gave me a big bear hug, “I’m happy for you ad’ika. I wish you nothing but happiness.”

The words were there, but the warmth in the eyes weren’t, “I’m sorry Rex. I’m sorry I couldn’t…”

He didn’t let me finish, “nothin’ to be sorry about, little one. You followed your heart to the man you love. It’s the heart I fell in love with, so how can I be upset about that” his warmth finally reached his eyes, we hugged one more time, “thank you, Rex. I love you, vod”

“Love you too, vod’ika”

“Alright, let’s come up with another plan than” I offered calmer, I looked over at Echo, and smirked.

“How do you do that?” Whispered Wrecker

“It’s my gift” Echo chuckled, I simply shook my head, “what if we make a medical droid?” Asked Omega

“It is possible” Tech advised

“We are at the scrap yard so we could find the parts we need, it won’t be pretty, but it’ll get the job done” I added, Tech and I sat down to work out a plan and design for the medical droid.

“While we are doing this, maybe the five of you could try to find an actual droid, maybe if there is an actual medical droid, we won’t have to make one” suggested Tech.

“Fine, we know when we’re not wanted,” Fives teased.

“Hey Omega”, I called, she turned towards me, “good suggestion” I winked at her. She ran over and hugged me, “thanks mo…I mean, thank you Phoenix Ghost”, I returned the hug and looked at Hunter, he had a smirk on his face, “hun, I think your dad’s waiting for you”. Hunter shot me a look, I couldn’t help but smile back, at the end of the day we were all co-parenting, so what was one or two more parents, uncles, or aunts. Whatever way she looked at us, we were family.

- - - - - - - - -

“How does it feel, vod?” Fives asked Echo

“How does what, feel?”

“Being married to the love of your life?” He elbowed Echo

Echo couldn’t help the blush that appeared on his face, “like I’m living a dream that I never want to wake up from”.

“Awww, that’s so sweet” shouted Wrecker

“Alright you guys focus, Omega and I will go done here" Hunter motioned to the corridor to his left, "Wrecker, go with Fives and Echo” as Hunter motioned to the corridor on his right.

“Copy that” Fives answered.

Hunter and Omega headed down what looked like a medical hallway, there were all kinds of beds, against the wall, “Hunter?”

“Yes, Omega”

“Are you married?”

“What?”

“Like Phoenix and Echo?”

Hunter didn’t answer for a minute, Omega could see something was bothering him, “I”m sorry, should I not have asked?”

“It’s okay, kid. No, I’m not married.”

“But there was someone?”

“Yes”

“Medic Kambe?”

Hunter stopped and looked at Omega, “how do you know that?”

“I trained under her as a medical assistant, she always used to mention Clone Force 99”

“That’s how you learned all about us”

Omega nodded, “she treated me like I was …”

“Like you were a person”

Omega nodded, “that’s how she treated us too.” Hunter continued examining the rooms, and realized more than likely his love had seen what was happening to Omega and how she was treated. He could see his tiny love stepping up to protect Omega. Knowing her, she probably even had to fight to be Omega’s trainer.

“Do you think we’ll see her again?”

“I don’t know, kid. I hope so, I really do.”

“Why didn’t she come with us?”

Hunter let out a sigh, “I don’t know, but something must have happened, otherwise she would have been waiting for us in the hangar.”

“I hope if we do find her, you two get married”

“Really?”

“Yes, she makes you happy. You clearly make her happy. She always had a smile on her face when she spoke of you, she kept her biggest smile when she mentioned you specifically.”

Hunter smiled at that, hopefully soon enough, he’ll have his brother back, and his love in his arms.

- - - - - - -

“Any luck?”

“There’s no such thing as luck” chuckled Fives

“What are you? Obi-wan?” I asked

“Hey how do you think I got so good with the ladies? I learned from the best” he laughed.

“Fives, you were good with the ladies, because they took pity on you. Not because you had any of the charm, Obi-wan had.”

“How do you know about Obi-wan’s charms?” Asked Echo.

“Hmm… what, my love?”

“We will discuss this later”

“Whatever you say, ner cyare”

“Oh don’t try and placate me with sweet sayings”

“As fun as it is to be in the middle of what’s probably your first argument” Tech interrupted, “did you find a medical droid?”

“I did!” Shouted Wrecker

“Good. By the way", Tech directed towards Echo and I, "I would like to see how an argument between married couples proceeds, it would be interesting to learn and see first hand” inquired Tech.

“Yeah, not gonna happen” I said, “let’s get this droid adjusted. Faster we get this thing on the ship, the faster we get out of here, and the faster we can get to Crosshair.”

“I think I have an idea about how to get Crosshair out in the open,” Hunter offered.

“How?” Asked Wrecker

“I’ll tell you guys when we’re back on the ship”

- - - - - - - - - - -

“That’s a bold plan” Fives commented

“But it has the potential for working” I appeased

“How do we know we can trust her?” Tech questioned, “how do we know she didn’t wilfully not show up? Had a change of heart?”

“Come on Tech, you know her. She loves us.” Hunter looked to the ground before continuing, “she loves me, she would never … She was detained. I know it. Something prevented her from meeting us in that hangar.”

“Okay, so you want to send a message that will undoubtedly put her in danger, either on the mission, or before the mission, and definitely after the mission. Basically, you are okay painting a giant target on her back, Hunter? Cause that’s what you’re doing by sending that message.”

“I know Phoenix, but it’s the only thing I can think of to do.”

“Then I’ll help to try and limit the damage. First things first, we are going to need to split up, find a planet to draw their attention to, hopefully one that’s uninhabitable.”

“With lots of ground coverage” offered Wrecker

“No high ground” suggested Tech

“With lots of animals” said Fives, we all turned to look at him, “what? If he can get distracted that gives us an advantage, I’m not crazy”, we all nodded along. “He does have a point” chimed in Echo.

“What about Felucia?” Hunter suggested

“It’s not inhabitable. I actually think I have a place.” I offered

“Where?” They all asked at once.

“I can’t say.”

“Well if you can’t say, how can we use it then?” Fives asked

“Because I have to ask permission to go there, it could put someone in danger, and that could be worse then …”

“Then having the Empire after us right now?” Wrecker inquired.

“Yes, actually. They’re very dear and special to me, I need to …sorry guys, I’m gonna have to take over the bunk for now.”

“Oh” said Echo

“Oh” I nodded.

“Oh what?” Hunter asked

“Ohhh!” Clued in Fives adding, “I thought he was dead.

“About as dead as you and I are”

“What are we talking about?” Wrecker asked Tech

“I don’t know” Tech answered shrugging his shoulders.

“Sorry guys, I can’t say more, or talk more about it. Like I said, I need the bunk, no one come in until I emerge. It could be several hours, I suggest we stay in hyperspace as much as possible.”

“What’s going on?” Omega asked as she stepped out of her room.

“Sorry guys, but we can’t talk about it” Fives answered, “just trust us, when we say she needs to do this, and you really can’t disturb her, she needs the quiet.”

- - - - - - - - -

It had been a while since I sat here meditating, trying to connect with my older teacher. I had been a force-sensitive child, and was about to take the Jedi trials, to be ordained as a Jedi Knight, but the anger within me had proved to be too volatile, with the war in effect. It was important to not let those who could be in situations where the constant fighting, the constant bloodshed and the insurmountable injustice would be present all the time. It could lead one to use the force in an unnatural way, causing one to take actions into your own hands.

I closed my eyes, and focused on the force, being one with the force was always easy for me, which was why the Council was concerned when they felt my anger.

“Little one, hmmm? Yes, hmmm”

“Hello Master Yoda”

“Why reach out through the force did you, hmm? Alright are you, hmmm?”

“I seek advice, Master, the advice is not for me, I’m alright, but it is to save two innocents.”

“To save a clone called Crosshair you wish, and medic called Kambe. Innocent, Kambe is. However, shed innocent blood, Crosshair has.”

“It’s not his fault, Master, it’s his chip. If we remove the chip, he’ll be back to his old self.”

“Possible, removing stone from a puddle is, damage the stone caused when thrown in is permanent. Back, what makes you think the Crosshair you once knew would come, hmm? Hmmmm.”

“Because it happened to one of the clones I am travelling with. His chip activated, and he tried to kill Omega, the little clone girl, once his chip was removed he went back to normal, although he remembered the incident.”

“Wrecker activated for, how long was, hmm?”

“Not long, maybe about 20 to 30 minutes.”

“Crosshair been activated, how long has, hmm?”

“Since the start of the Empire”

“Over time weeds grow over stone, in the puddle, that is. When you pull out stone, pull out weeds too. The damage caused, irreversible, could be. Prepared to face that consequence are you, hmm? Hmmm?”

“At least he would be free.”

“Of clone life free from, hmm? No. Free from the Empire, hmm? No. His other self free from, hmm? Possibly. Plague his mind constantly, the nightmares of what he has done will. Carry, can you soothe the pain his soul will, hmm? If this chip you free him from, have to help carry his burden, you will. Ready for that are you, hmm?”

“Yes”

“Then I offer, what advice can hmm? Yes, hmmm”

“We need a planet that is shrouded in darkness, with no major high ground, lots of foliage and animals”

“You use Dagobah to draw him out want to, hmm?”

“With your permission, Master, yes. But if you feel it is too big of a threat, maybe you can recommend another planet, one that can wreak havoc on a sniper.”

“My permission, you have. I will give you coordinates that will put any in danger not, and your purposes that will serve.”

“Thank you, Master.”

“Your anger and your fear I no longer sense. Changed, what has, young one, hmm?”

“Ever since my ‘death’, I no longer lived for myself but for others. With the help of others and my skills we were able to save 2500 soldiers. Brave men, each one.”

“That is all not. Herh herh herh”.

“No, Master. Ha, never could hide anything from you. I married the love of my life, Echo”

“Happy for you little one I am. Continue learning from the force. Serve you in the future, it will. To the dark side within you I no longer sense the temptation. However, to say goodbye to the man you love, be prepared, when the time comes, or to the dark side again find yourself on the path.

“Yes, Master. Thank you.”

“With you may the force be. Hmmmm”

“And with you, Master.”

- - - - - - - - -

“How long does this usually take?” Hunter asked Echo

“Once it took her - - - what was it? Fives, 12 hours?”

“I thought it was longer, closer to 15 or 16”

“It depends”

“On what?” Asked Tech

“On how easily I can connect to the force”, I answered. They all turned to see me emerge from the bunk room, “how long was I in there for?”

“About 8 hours,” Echo answered.

“Do we have a plan?”

“We do, Hunter” I smiled, not only did we have a plan, but I had the privilege to continue learning about the Force, who knows what will happen in the future, but as of right now I was very hopeful.

“So where are we going?” Asked Omega

“Dagobah, we’re going to Dagobah, but first I need to eat, secondly there are a few things we need to discuss and thirdly, only three or four of us should go, the others should keep Omega safe.”

“I feel like there’s going to be a whole Jedi sort feel to this story” Fives laughed

“Well not completely, but you’re not wrong either” I laughed along with him.

“Does that mean, you’re going to tell me how you know about Obi-wan’s charms?” Asked Echo

“You’re never going to leave that alone, are you?” Hunter and Tech got up and headed for the cockpit, Omega headed for her room, Fives and Wrecker headed for the bunk room, leaving Echo and I alone.

“Why won’t you just tell me?”

“Why do I need to tell you about something that is so trifling, and doesn’t matter in our current predicament?”

“Because I need to know”

“You don’t need to know, what you want to know is if I personally experienced his charms, isn’t that true?”

“I … how … that’s …” Echo rubbed the back of his neck after his failure to start his sentence, “that’s not what I want to know.”

“Then why do you keep asking that question”

“I just didn’t think that Jedis, you know”

I just looked at him, “Echo, I married you. I was learning to become a Jedi, remember?”

“Yeah, but I just didn’t think you were with anyone before me, I thought we had that in common”, that’s what he wanted to know! Man, why was he beating around the bush?

“Echo, my love” I kneeled before, cradling his face with one hand, holding his right hand with my left, “I love you. Obi-wan is just a horrible flirt. I was never interested in him. I wasn’t interested in anyone other than you. You have been and always will be the love of my life. No one can compare to you. They can’t hold a candle to your bravery, your courage, your kindness, your sweetness, the way you care for me, the way you look after your brothers, the way you look after Omega. You are the best man I have ever known. No one will ever change my opinion about that. I love you and only you, and I have never been with anyone other than you.”

Echo looked into my eyes, leaned forward and kissed me, with all the passion he could muster. “I really wish we had our own room, and our own ship, right now.”

I laughed out loud, “well let’s get to a safe haven where we can pick up another ship, and you and I take an hour for ourselves.”

“I think maybe four hours is needed”

“Ha, if only we had that kind of time my love, an hour and a half?”

“Two”

“Done, but then we have to get this plan under way as soon as we land.”

“I know”, I pressed my forehead against his, soaking in his scent; Master Yoda was right, I would have to prepare myself for the eventuality of losing him for real, one day. When I had thought I had lost him the first time, it nearly destroyed me, and it was because I wasn’t able to have a future with him. Wasn’t able to live freely with him. Now, I could. If I were to lose him tomorrow, I can be comforted in knowing that I had married, and had been able to love him without reservation. I would have no regrets with how I loved him.

“I love you, Echo”

“I love you, Phoenix”

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mooshs-crack-headcanons · 2 years

Note

Raaaaahhhh!!! Moosh! Please tell me if Rune Factory 5 is worth the hype! I've been replaying 4 while waiting for 5 to release, but I'm still kinda iffy about committing to it 😩

Ok OK OK OK!

I'm about 10ish hours into it so far, so take what I have to say with a grain of salt:

Is rune factory 5 good?

In my opinion, yes despite it having some flaws.

It's not perfect, no game is 100% however, it does have issues like the frame rate drops, throwing items/certain farm mechanics feel a little wonky, how events are handled could be a bit better, the lock on system needs a bit of improvement, furniture placement sucks, and if you get paralysis moving your character becomes unbearable unless you mash the R button to dash where you need to go - this is especially annoying in dungeons.

However looking past those issues I think it has just enough personality as every rune factory game has. I adore the story so far, so far all the characters I've met are extremely memorable, I love and adore all the marriage candidates expect for a certain two; Cecil, I love his character he is very sweet just trying his best but I just don't like him as a marriage candidate and personally I think Terry should've took his place, and the other being Fukka because there's a lot of things I feel are just... questionable about her portrayal in the game and those questionable aspects plays into why I personally don't like her as a marriage candidate either and I'd would've preferred either Elsje or Misagi in her place. The farming and the fighting gameplay like I mentioned has some issues with each like mentioned but after awhile with a learning curve it you do get rather use to it and then it becomes fun once you get out of the first few stages and the ball starts rolling for the grind and you feel like you can actually go out and become quicker with your farm tasks each day/go out in those dungeons and do some dmc type fucking dodging quick attack shenanigans - then it's fun :)

Does it beat rune factory 4?

I knew right when 5 was announced that it would have a very hard time if it wants to one up 4 and I'd be okay if it didn't because rune factory 4 has a special place on me and a ton of other people's heart and its characters, the character interactions, the story, the gameplay, everything is just god tier of what makes that game so special.

So it doesn't surprise me to say, unfortunately no it doesn't beat rune factory 4 and I'd like to say that's okay. Rf4 has so much to it and so much originality to it I'd think I would be impossible to beat it. However, rune factory 5 more than deserves its own standing and it's own hype because it definitely is a game, again even with its flaws and needs of improvement, it's a game I think clearly radiates so much love that was made into it with every piece of dialog and description of every item and character. It's story I can't stress enough, ties back to rune factory 4 so well. There's several mentions of the ending of 4 with the fall of the Sechs empire and how everything with SEED is a direct result of what you (your player character of rf4) defeating Ethelbeard and bringing the runes back I've never felt more continuity in a rune factory game (in my experience of the games I've played) that wasn't just other cameo of characters that maybe serve a small role and it feels so great. And going off that:

Doug and Margaret:

Everything Doug and Margaret say about Selphia makes me fucking cry. And it's explicitly stated several decades have passed, and so far I've seen them mention Porcoline, Dylas, Lest/Frey. And those conversations seem so... hurtful knowing all of them are most likely dead or old while meanwhile Doug and Margaret are still young given dwarf/elf lifespans and them traveling/moving away to avoid seeing all of their old friends start to grow old and die.

They serve a very small role in the game, not required because they only come if you have rf4s save data on your system but I would save if you love rf4 definitely at least play 5 so you can read their conversations.

All and all how would I rate it? 8/10

I think is was worth the wait.

#moosh speaks #rune factory 5 #moosh plays #moosh plays rune factory 5 #moosh gives his dumb opinions #rf5 doug #rf5 margaret #non request related

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lucycola · 4 years

Text

The Lone Survivor: Part 2

Spock x Fem!Reader

Premise: Fem!Reader accidentally bonds with Spock when rescued from her own starship crash. The Golden Trio realize the footage from the wreck could wrongfully incriminate the reader. They attempt to find a way out of this. PART ONE HERE

SLOW BURN. Eventual smut in later parts. More Bones dialogue than probably necessary but WHATEVER. Fatherly Bones. There will be more one on one Reader and Spock in part three. Right now it plays like a normal episode with build up because I’m stubborn.

WARNINGS: Movie amnesia, sexual themes if you squint, mentions of death, and implied one-sided matrimony.

Part 2: The Night We Met I Knew I Needed You So

There was no mistaking the final moments illustrated in the found footage from the Calvary. It was you assaulting the crew on the bridge-you setting a course straight to destruction on Toravalve 9.

However, Mister Spock had disagreed. He had reached into your mind and saw you in your own eyes. It couldn’t have been you.

After carrying you back to the medbay you were put safely back in your bed with a Doctor McCoy who hovered over you like a disgruntled mother bear. With the tricorder at your forehead you pleaded with him to relax.

Captain Kirk had been summoned to hear what you both, or rather, Mister Spock had to say. For some stranger reason Spock omitted the existence of the orange tape. He deliberated his own findings via meld instead.

“A copy of sorts, Captain.”

“And you’re sure you saw the Lieutenant looking...at her own self?”

“As unlikely as it may seem, it is was I saw. Although it was also demonstrated that the Lieutenant received a severe head injury before witnessing her own self attack the crew members.”

“And you’re sure it wasn’t some kind of...” Kirk deliberated for a moment, “... out of body experience.”

“Also unlikely. Although it is perceivable Lieutenant L/N maybe have suffered delusions after cranial trauma I possess a suspicion that an illusion was made unto the Lieutenant and the crew.”

Kirk glanced at you for a moment and back to Spock, quizzically at first, but then with a dashing smirk. “A hunch, Spock? How very...human.”

Spock quirked a brow, hands still stonily behind his back, “All endeavors begin with a hypothesis.”

“You believe me,” you murmured, from your bed still although no longer in your white, medbay gown you were graciously presented with black Starfleet fatigues. Nurse Chapel had gently maneuvered your unruly waves into two pleats that were coming undone slowly.

A stark contrast to the pristine, polished head science officer.

The fingers on Spock’s right hand flexed at the sound of your voice.

He only turned his head to look at you, “Empirical data is what needs to be obtained-whether I believe what memories are buried in your subconscious is incidental.”

“They still don’t feel real,” you admitted. Not even your name felt real.

“Such an admission will not help your case and I advise you keep that opinion to yourself, Lieutenant.”

You felt like he was chiding you. Your ground your jaw slightly and you knew he could feel it: the aggravation, the impatience. Fear.

His right fingers flexed again, but his expression, unchanging as ever, gave nothing away.

The electric pool of warmth in the back of your mind hushed you, told you to remain calm. Diplomatic.

How could looking at your own self feel real? ‘She’ seemed so real. You had walked around the corner and met yourself, squaring you up instantly. She lunged for you and you wrestled with her, shocked at the fact that you had your own hands around your throat. They weren’t your hands. It was an imposter.

How? That was the real question.

“How do we find proof then, Mister Spock?” Kirk asked, reinserting himself.

“We locate the imposter and confirm my hypothesis.”

“You make it sound so easy,” Kirk replied.

“Indeed it will not be so. Commander Craft is aware of the meld that took place and will order me to testify my findings against the lieutenant. Until the Lieutenant’s sanity can be declared-”

“I’m sure I can help with that,” the doctor said, almost appearing out of nowhere.

“What is left is concrete evidence,” Spock added.

“The imposter,” Kirk finished, nodding.

“Who’s Commander Craft?” you asked.

He turned to look at you. You were made to feel the oblivious child with everyone in the room talking about you. However, you listened and you absorbed. You were careful with your input. Listen first, talk later, you thought to yourself. The presence in the back of your mind hummed in monotonic approval as if to say, good girl.

You wondered what those words tasted like on Spock’s lips. You shuddered in embarrassment and turned your head away.

Spock coughed uncharacteristically, “Commander Craft is the elected official heading the investigation crew from the Federation. We were contacted yesterday and were to present a full report of our findings and happenings.”

Which included the bond. That detail in itself was still above you, not fully explained nor understood. You could feel it for what it was and knew he was there. Not why or how, however.

“We must garner more time,” Spock continued to his captain, “And possibly keep myself from testifying.”

“We could declare you insane,” the doctor quipped earning another brow arch from his opposing.

“You’re asking for a loophole,” Kirk stated.

“Essentially, Captain.”

Kirk seemed to know there was more to it, the way he pursed his lips and put his fists on his hips. You knew yourself that if Spock testified against you with what he saw in the meld then there was no evidence against you truly-just what you yourself witnessed. However, Spock would be asked to tell the whole truth and that included the tape. If you were deemed crazy then your own experiences would be null and void.

Did Kirk already know about the tape?

Kirk sighed,” Spock, I...we’d be misleading not only Starfleet, but the Federation. This isn’t the first time you’ve-” he glanced at you, “-taken the unorthodox route to obtain justice.”

“Then I am asking for your trust, Captain.”

Kirk’s eyes narrowed then softened. He relented and with a sturdy tone which meant business as he relayed, “I suppose you already a loophole in mind then?”

“Indeed, Captain.”

“I would expect nothing less.”

Spock paused, fighting to look at you.

“Well, aren’t you gonna tell us?” the doctor asked.

“Proposals are not so elementary to make on Vulcan, even when it is logical...but also yet not as it could fare unfavorable circumstances. Especially if one party is unwilling.”

It took Kirk a moment, and even the doctor even longer.

“You mean...?”

“Yes, Captain.”

“You’re willing to marry her so you don’t have to testify?” he asked incredulously.

You were stupefied, impressed, but stupefied. The stoic Vulcan could play dirty. An actual proposal.

“You’re going to marry her?” Bones asked, mortified, “She’s a person...not a pawn! This is her life we’re meddling with. Marriage is a serious thing-”

“You’ll find, Doctor, that I am quite serious.”

“You could wreck her life.”

“I intend on saving it.”

Spock, your heart breathed.

“It seems like a reach for you, Spock,” Kirk said, “They would never believe the both of you, even if Y/N did agree.”

“It will be most believable as the Lieutenant and I have already made a bond.”

Silence befell everyone.

“You can’t be serious,” the doctor said finally, a fierce protectiveness in his voice. “At a time like this-”

“It was not intended as I am careful to shield my mind when partaking tactility with other forms-but, she called to me.”

And he had found you in the dark.

“She accepted it-although it is possible that may be due to the extreme duress she was suffering.”

“And you were there to save her,” Bones finished, a grave distaste in his voice.

“Such a bond can be mediated by a healer with moderate difficult just as a Terran divorce can be secured.”

It was a slap to the face. He was as willing to ‘save’ you as he was to dump you and leave you for dead. Red hot turmoil threatened in your core and you clenched your blankets. What was the point then?

Your crew was dead, your reputation tarnished, and everyone thought you were a murderer.

Let me die, you thought, just let me die.

“Certainly not,” Spock said quietly. Both the Captain and the Doctor eyed him wearily as this random statement.

“So you...negating your-”

“No, sir. I am simply waiting for Lieutenant L/N’s input on the matter.”

“There’s no way in hell she’d agree to this. The bond is clearly one-sided, Spock. How could you be so irresponsible?” Bones chided.

“A explanation escapes me.” He was still looking at you with smoldering eyes, with bright stars dancing behind them. Cold, but fierce.

What other shot did you have? How else could you bide time while searching for this monster? You wanted to give up. It would be easy.

Kirk leaned in to his second in command and suggested softly, “Perhaps you should ask more properly, Mister Spock. She is a lady. Bones is right. It’s her life.”

“Lieutenant-”

Kirk elbowed him.

“Y/N,” he corrected himself, “Will-”

“Yes,” you blurted in a hushed voice, “I will marry you, Mister Spock.”

You were left in your bed again under strict supervision this time. You reveled in the shock of what you’d just agreed to, and even the shock of the situation in its entirety. Rediscovering the monster that claimed your crew and your identity was still fresh and seeing it through your own eyes again with the meld drained the life out of you. You were exhausted, but your mind still raced. ‘It’ was on the ship-it had to be. They didn’t find a copy of you or anyone else in the wreckage. You wondered how recognizable some of your crewmates were and you had to still your frantic thoughts.

“What ever is going on up there it needs to stop. You heart rate is very high.” Doctor McCoy was already readying a hypo.

“That...thing. It might be here-”

“We’re on high alert, looking for any copies of ourselves. It’s not the first time this kind of thing has happened,” he tried to assure you.

“There are no red lights.”

“They get annoying after awhile. Whatever it is, it’s damn good at hiding. But we’ll flush it out. The Captain has a plan.”

“Did Mister Spock tell you the imposter can read your memories? That’s how it tricked me. Did he tell the captain?” you asked, wring your hands with the blanket.

“Your guess is better than mine.”

You thought back to Spock’s omission to the orange tape. Always flipping back and forth between elusive affection and monotonous professionalism. Marry me. Divorce after.

“He’s hard to place sometimes.”

“And you agreed to marry him.”

“I did,” you blurted stubbornly. “We’re bonded.”

Bones suddenly became eye level with you, bracing both hands on the rail. “But do you know what that even means?”

You arched a brown similar to Vulcan fashion, “Do you, good doctor?”

Bones shook his head and instead asked, “Sleep now or later? Does it help with the nightmares?”

“Yes, I think so. Now, I think. Doctor?”

“Yes, kitty?”

“Thankyou.”

Sleep was apart of the healing process and being roused from it interrupted that. That was at least what Bones tried to argue when the captain requested your presence in the conference room. Flanked by your fiancé and the kindly captain himself you were expected to hold an interview of sorts with Commander Craft via telecom before his arrival at the crash site. Several ships had already come to help clean up.

“What am I supposed to say?” you half pleaded with them, “I’m not good at lying.”

“You do not have to be deceitful. However, if you find yourself under duress the commander may suspect a guilt as I had sensed upon our initial meeting,” Spock replied, one arm linked on your good side.

Your other arm supported a crutch when had a nervous hand floating behind it via the captain.

Kirk shot a reassuring look your way. “I recommend the truth. Tell him what you told me, and you’ll be fine. He’s a bit of a stickler for rules and he’s tough on the stand-”

“Jesus,” you muttered.

“Or...a bit of theatrics couldn’t hurt if you get too overwhelmed. You did just lose your crew.”

“How could I forget?” Your lip quivered.

You three paused at the door.

“I trust my first officer, Y/N,” Kirk turned to face you, “As unorthodox as this has become, I put trust into his melds and by what he has told me you didn’t do anything wrong. That thing-that monster did.”

You couldn’t stop the tears dribbling. “Captain, I let my crew die.”

“Any death having occurred was unintentional on your part, Lieutenant, ”Spock said in his chilly tone, “As was demonstrated in your memory you tired to apprehend and fend off the creature, but to no avail. You did everything in your power. The human emotional phenomena your are experiencing is common upon singular entities having being spared from genocide.”

“That is?” Kirk asked.

“Survivor’s guilt,” you sighed, finishing the statement for you fiancé.

Commander Craft was not unkind, nor did he smile. He was neither young or old and his questions were fairly basic as the captain’s were three days earlier. You recounted all you could remember, and it was stressed by you and the captain that you had lost most of your general memory due to head trauma. Whether he seemed convinced was unknown to you. You tried to hold back in your distress. The warmth in the back of your mind wrapped around the little knot that pain and anxiety was birthed. It was squeezed it slowly, like the grasp of a hand. You delivered your answers calmly.

“The double of yourself, you saw. Did you see it transform from your father to yourself?” the commander asked.

“No sir.”

“Have you seen a copy of yourself since you boarded the Enterprise?”

“No sir.”

“And no foreign entity has been detected on the ship?”

“No sir,” the captain replied.

“Mmm,” the commander paused for the first time in what seemed like hours. “L/N, had you ever experiences delusions or hallucinations before?”

“I don’t remember.”

“And did you experience the trauma to your head before or after you saw yourself sabotaging the ship?”

“I...” you glanced, “I’m not sure. After?”

“Do you remember hitting your head at all?”

“I remember the copy throwing me hard against the wall and everything going black.” You tried to strengthen your voice, but it kept cracking. You heart continued to race. “And-”

It flashed.

“When I let my father on the ship. I went black there too. But I’m not sure if I hit my head that time.”

“And Mister Spock you were able to witness what Lieutenant L/N saw?”

“Affirmative.”

“But...through her point of view.”

Fuck. You had a feeling he would try to pull the crazy card.

“Were there any observation tapes recovered from the crash?”

“My crew obtained few, but to my knowledge they are still processing them,” the captain answered smoothly.

“Has any other information been made available to any of you?”

You could feel the edges of your vision blacken. You couldn’t make eye contact with him. Cold sweat had broken from your brow. A cold, steady hand placed itself to your brow. The natural warmth on your mind shimmered.

“She has a fever, Captain.”

“I won’t tolerate any nonsense, Lieutenant-”

“Commander, she has just lost four-hundred members of her family to a people-eating imposter!” Kirk bellowed lowly, “She’s kept it together well so far. I commend her efforts. You have the wrong idea about her.”

“Until I can find proof of this ‘imposter’ and until her psyche can be cleared by one of our doctors then we’ll see. This isn’t the first time the Federation has had to deal with the Enterprise’s shenanigans.”

“People eating?” you whispered in disbelief. Oh my god.

Spock caught on to Kirk’s unnecessary honesty. “It was discovered the imposter’s prime directive was to use the Calvary’s crew as sustenance.”

You toppled forwards and were caught and cradled by your fiancé.

“Take her to the medbay, Mister Spock,” Kirk ordered.

“Call for the doctor. I am not taking my eyes off her until we arrive!” the commander snapped.

“By the time Doctor McCoy arrives she will succumb to shock. I must attend to my t’hy’la in the most logical and efficient manner possible.”

Kirk fought the need to smile, not realizing that your theatrics weren’t really theatrics.

PART THREE

#spock #mister spock #mr spock #startrek #tos #star trek #spock x reader #spock x fem!reader #doctor mccoy #bones #jim kirk #captain kirk #kirk #oc #reader #slow burn #song lyrics of chapter is Be My Baby by The Ronettes

184 notes · View notes

winterskywrites · 3 years

Note

how about combining bad batch and reinvent love? what happens to the bad batch in your au?

The regs all go weird on Kaller. Hunter isn’t quite sure what’s the matter with them, but Tech says it’s some sort of programming, and he trusts Tech to know what he’s talking about. Tech also says he thinks the five of them are immune.

In that respect, Tech is wrong.

They flee Kamino with Omega and without Crosshair. It’s not right for them to leave one of their own behind, and Hunter can feel the tension in the air, but there was nothing else they could have done. They’ll go back for Crosshair eventually, but now, it would be suicide. They’ll have to wait for the right moment.

And then, the day after they leave, a message goes out to all clone troopers on the same official channel that the first strange order came through on. “Order 66 is revoked,” Anakin Skywalker tell the galaxy. “All clone troopers, stand down, and report to your commanding officer immediately.”

“Do we believe him?” Tech asks Hunter warily.

“No,” Hunter says, shaking his head. He liked General Skywalker when they worked with him before, but he doesn’t trust him with this. It could be a trap to lure in any defectors, like themselves, and now they have a child to protect. “We’re not going back.”

They go to visit Cut and Suu instead, since Cut is the only deserter they’ve ever met who’s been able to actually avoid getting caught. Saleucami isn’t very different under the new Empire than it was under the Republic, and the Lawquane family is much the same as ever. Apparently, they’ve missed Rex by a day, and Hunter can see the mingled relief and disappointment on Echo’s face. At least he’s alive and apparently unaffected by whatever’s happening to most of the regs. Hunter keeps a close eye on Cut, but he doesn’t seem to be affected either.

While Omega plays with Jek and Shaeeah, Cut and Suu fill Hunter and the others in on some things that have happened since they fled Kamino. Apparently, the Chancellor-turned-Emperor has been overthrown and revealed to be a traitor who spent the whole Clone Wars playing both sides against each other, and rumor has it that Senator Amidala will be taking his throne as the new Galactic Empress. Hunter has always liked Senator Amidala, and she’s always been a proponent of clone rights, but this whole Empire feels wrong to him, and he’s not sure he can trust anyone who plays a part in it.

He does gather the rest of his squad to discuss it in private, though, because this is a decision he thinks they should all make together.

“I don’t know,” Echo says, shaking his head. “I trust General Skywalker, and the Senator always seemed like a good person, but with everything that’s happening...”

“I don’t like it,” Wrecker declares. “I don’t like the Empire either. I don’t like any of this.”

“Neither do I,” Hunter agrees. He looks over at Tech, who’s been strangely silent. “What do you think?”

“I have been attempting to run calculations on the matter, but there are too many unknown variables,” Tech replies. “I cannot properly calculate our odds either way.”

“What about worst case scenarios?” Echo asks. “Which ones are better?”

“The worst case scenario either way results in our deaths,” Tech replies bluntly. “But I believe it is more likely that we will face danger from going back than from staying away, with the data I currently have. If this changes, I will inform you.”

“Then we’re staying away,” Hunter decides.

Tech adjusts his goggles. “What about Crosshair?”

Hunter doesn’t want to think about how they left Crosshair behind, but he forces himself to. He may have given them no choice but to leave him, but that doesn’t mean he deserves to be forgotten. “If he’s on Kamino, there’s no way we can get him back ourselves. If he’s not on Kamino, we don’t know where to find him. I want him back just as much as the rest of you, but I don’t think we can go after him yet, especially not with the kid.”

“Is she staying with us?” Echo asks.

Honestly, Hunter has been thinking about that as well. He doesn’t know how to raise a child, none of them do, and their lifestyle is too dangerous for a little girl, even one who’s an enhanced clone. She has no knowledge of the galaxy outside Kamino, and that could get her killed.

“I’ll talk to Cut,” Hunter says. “For now, let’s lay low and decide what to do next.”

They stay on Saleucami overnight, making plans. Hunter has a conversation with Cut about leaving Omega behind with him, which Omega overhears and vehemently disagrees with. Hunter tells the others to factor Omega into their plans.

In the end, they leave with some supplies, some news, and some tips on raising a child. They don’t have a real plan yet, but Hunter figures they’ll come up with something as they go along. Their main objective is just to keep their heads down and stay hidden.

And then, on their second day of aimless flying, they get a call.

“It’s from Kamino,” Echo says. “What do you say, Hunter?”

“Tech, can you make sure they can’t trace us or see us?” Hunter asks.

Tech nods. “Easily.”

“Then do that,” Hunter says. “Then we can see what they want with us on Kamino.”

After a few moments of fiddling, Tech accepts the call. The hologram fizzes into focus, and it shows...

“Commander Cody?” Wrecker demands.

“He can’t hear us,” Tech says helpfully. Wrecker gives him a dirty look, but before he can say anything else, Cody starts talking.

“I assume my message is getting through, even though I can’t hear you or see you. I’m here with someone who wants to speak to you.”

Cody steps aside, and Hunter's chest clenches as Crosshair steps into view. “I don’t blame you for leaving me behind when I was trying to kill you,” he says dryly, “but you could at least answer the comm properly now.”

Tech looks over at Hunter, but Hunter shakes his head. He’d like to believe this is really Crosshair, their Crosshair, but they still don’t fully know why he turned on them on Kamino, and Hunter can’t trust him until they know beyond the shadow of a doubt that he’s really back.

“I don’t know how much you know about this,” Cody says, “but all clone troopers have behavior modification chips that can be used to control us. The Emperor” - Cody says the title with more derision than Hunter’s ever heard in his voice before - “used them to turn us against the Jedi. But the order has been revoked, and the control chips are being removed.”

Crosshair turns his head to show a small red incision near his temple. “Recreational brain surgery,” he drawls. “The longnecks put up a fuss, and that sleemo Tarkin had to be taken care of, but it was nothing we couldn’t handle.”

Cody gives Crosshair the sort of fondly exasperated look that he’s given every member of the Bad Batch so many times, and Hunter wants so badly to believe this is real. He wishes he could.

“I understand that you aren’t likely to take us at our word,” Cody begins.

“Because you’re paranoid bastards,” Crosshair cuts in.

“But we’re willing to meet you at a location of your choice, just the two of us. You’ll outnumber us, two to one.” Cody’s lips twitch up the slightest bit. “Or two and a half to one, if you include the child you recused. And you all said I was a mother hen.”

“You know people called you that?” Crosshair asks.

Cody rolls his eyes, a surprisingly undignified move for the usually dignified commander. “No one was particularly subtle about it.” He turns his focus back to Hunter and the others. “If you want to meet with us, send coordinates and a time to my comm and we’ll be there.”

“And Wrecker,” Crosshair adds, “since the war is over, you’ll never have a chance to beat my total. I win.”

“Hey!” Wrecker protests, clearly forgetting that Crosshair can’t hear him.

The comm fizzles out on Crosshair’s smug expression. Hunter turns to the others, seeing his own uncertainty reflected on their faces.

“What do you think?”

“The cut on Crosshair’s head is in the right spot for it to be from removing the chip,” Omega offers helpfully. Hunter carefully doesn’t jump. Omega wasn’t in the cockpit when the call came in, and somehow, Hunter missed her entering. He must have been more distracted than he realized.

“It could be a trap, but the offer for us to choose the location makes that less likely,” Tech says. “Although they could prepare to mobilize troopers the moment we give them the coordinates.”

“I’m not sure if I believe them or not,” Echo says slowly, “but I think it’s worth looking into.”

Hunter looks to Wrecker. “What do you think?”

“Cross didn’t make any jokes like that after he started acting weird on Kaller,” Wrecker says. “All the regs acted like droids or something. Cross and Commander Cody weren’t acting like droids.”

“If it were just up to me, I’d meet up with them,” Hunter says. “But I think we should all be in agreement on this. What do you think?”

Echo, Tech, and Wrecker all look at each other. “I think we should meet with them,” Omega pipes up. “If we get to pick the spot, then we have the advantage, don’t we?”

They may or may not have an advantage, depending on whether or not Cody keeps his word about not bringing anyone else along. Hunter wants to do it anyway.

“I believe we should take this chance,” Tech says. “We may not get a better one. We can find out more of what’s happening, and if he still needs it, we may be able to rescue Crosshair.”

“I’m with Tech,” Wrecker agrees. “Let’s do it.”

“Echo?” Hunter asks, turning to the last member of the squad.

Echo looks at all of them, then nods once. “Let’s do it.”

“Alright,” Hunter says, immediately starting to make a plan. “Tech, figure out the best spot for us to meet them. Wrecker, Echo, check our weapons and start planning the best ways for us to get out of this alive.”

“What about me?” Omega asks as the other three go to do as they were told. “What can I do to help?”

“You’re going to stay on the ship when we meet with them,” Hunter says. Omega begins to complain, but he continues over her, “So that means I need to show you how it works.”

Omega’s complaining stops. “You’re going to show me how to fly the ship?”

“Just the basics,” Hunter says. “Come here.”

He manages to teach Omega the basics of takeoff, landing, flying, and using the guns by the time they reach Tech’s chosen location. It’s an ocean planet with small islands and rough atmospheric conditions, chosen so neither an aerial nor ground fleet can reach them easily. It reminds Hunter of Kamino. He wonders if that was purposeful.

“Assuming they come directly here and take the most direct route, Commander Cody and Crosshair should arrive within the hour,” Tech announces. “We can set up defenses while we wait.”

“Wrecker and I have some ideas for that,” Echo says, pulling out a box of land mines.

“This island is uninhabited, right, Tech?” Hunter asks.

Tech nods. “Entirely.”

Hunter turns to Echo and Wrecker. “Then go ahead.”

The two of them get busy preparing while Tech monitors for any incoming ships or transmissions and Hunter waits with Omega. It won’t be long, Hunter doesn’t think. Cody and Crosshair will arrive soon.

He really hopes this doesn’t end in a fight.

“Ship incoming,” Tech says, and Hunter jerks to attention. “It’s small. It wouldn’t fit more than a single squad.”

“Are you scanning any other ships?” Hunter asks.

Tech shakes his head. “Nothing else.”

So they’ll be fighting a squad at most, unless there’s another ship that’s evading Tech’s scanners. Of course, it’s possible that Cody and Crosshair were actually telling the truth when they said they’d come alone, but Hunter’s not going to take their word for it, not with the way everything’s been going lately. If they come with a squad, then he thinks his own squad, incomplete as it is, will have a fighting chance.

“They’re landing,” Echo reports from outside. “Are you coming out?”

“We are,” Hunter says. He turns to Omega and sits her down in the pilot’s seat. “You know what to do, right?”

“I know,” Omega says, nodding. “You can trust me.”

Hunter tousles her hair. “Alright, kid. Be careful.”

“Good luck!”

Hunter and Tech leave the ship and join Echo and Wrecker, who seem to have gone through the entire box of land mines. “Those aren’t going to blow us up, right?” Hunter asks dryly.

“They’re all wired to this detonator,” Echo says, taking the detonator off his belt to show the others. “They won’t go off unless I press the button.”

“Hopefully, we won’t have to,” Tech says. “It could cause serious damage to the ecosystem.”

“I thought you said nothing lives on the island,” Wrecker counters.

“It is uninhabited, yes, but the sea around us is not,” Tech replies. “And if we destroy this island, it will have consequences for the sea around.”

“We can talk about the consequences combat has on the ecosystem later,” Hunter interrupts. “Focus. The door is opening.”

The door to Cody and Crosshair’s ship lowers, and Hunter’s hand hovers just above his blaster. The others are in similar positions around him. None of them want this to come to a fight, Hunter knows that, but they’re all ready if it does.

And then two figures step off the ship, neither in armor nor, as far as Hunter can tell, armed. Cody looks mostly the same as ever, except for a shaved patch on the side of his head and a new scar under it. Next to him, Crosshair has a matching scar and expectation glittering in his eyes. For a moment, everything is silent.

“I told you they’d be ready for a fight,” Crosshair finally drawls. “You owe me five credits, Commander.”

“I didn’t take that bet, Crosshair,” Cody replies. “I’m just surprised their blasters aren’t drawn.”

“How can we know this isn’t a trap?” Hunter asks.

Crosshair reaches to pull something out of a pocket. Hunter tenses, but Crosshair just pulls out a small sample of something and tosses it at Tech, who catches it neatly.

“That’s the chip,” Crosshair says. “The four of you have them as well, but we’ll talk about removing those later.”

“What is it, Tech?” Hunter asks Tech quietly.

“It does look like a bio-organic chip of some sort,” Tech says. “I would have to study it in more depth to be certain that it was the one implanted in Crosshair, however.”

“I understand the hesitation to trust us,” Cody says, stepping forward. Hunter’s hand twitches closer to his blaster, and Cody puts his hands up in a gesture of surrender. “I understand,” he repeats, “but we’re telling the truth. What do we have to do to convince you?”

Hunter swallows, then he looks at Crosshair. “The Jedi kid, on Kaller.”

“You’re an awful liar,” Crosshair replies immediately. “But you were right not to kill him.”

It could still be a trap. Hunter knows it could be trap, but he wants to believe them so badly. He can see the same desire on the others’ faces. If they had to run, he has no doubt that they could do it, but if they don’t have to...

“Hunter,” Cody says - Cody, the one reg Hunter has always respected, the only commanding officer whose orders he’ll follow gladly. “You can trust us. This is real.”

Slowly, Hunter relaxes, moving his hand away from his blaster. The other do the same around him, readily enough that he knows they agree with his assessment. Cody and Crosshair aren’t a threat. They’re telling the truth.

“It’s good to have you back,” Hunter says to Crosshair, taking a step forward and not tensing at all when Crosshair and Cody do the same.

Crosshair doesn’t really smile in response, because Crosshair rarely smiles, but Hunter can read him well enough to know he’s pleased. “It’s good to be back.”

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dgcatanisiri · 3 years

Text

Tried to make a brief summary of the issues of Mass Effect Andromeda’s handling of queer men and how it relates to why we’re (broad use here) upset with the Legendary Edition failing to provide better representation than the originals, and it kinda turned in to what amounts to an open letter for BioWare.

So, what the heck, here it is.

A little personal background. I spent my high school life completely in the closet. After graduating, I had a new computer and the opportunity to play a new game. The game chosen was BioWare’s Jade Empire. Still a fairly recent release, and I was a big fan of Star Wars Knights of the Old Republic, also by BioWare. So, being a young gay man, still uncomfortable and uncertain of who I was, I was very excited when I got to play this game that would allow me to play a gay romance, a romance that featured two men. I burned through two playthroughs of the game within less than a week, enjoying that rush of acknowledgement that yes, gay guys could be the hero. It was a massive affirmation for me at the time, something that said that my sexuality was not going to prevent me from being the hero, which legitimately was a message that I felt like most media was giving me to that point, because gay men barely appeared in anything other than guest roles for an episode or two on a TV show, but certainly not in video games. That game, that experience... I’ve said for years that it had cemented me as a BioWare fan for life.

If I say that now, it is a statement with a few caveats.

The history of the failure of Mass Effect 1 and Mass Effect 2 to provide any male/male romances is well documented. I was excited, very eager to romance Kaidan Alenko in Mass Effect 3. But even then, I noticed that there were things that were lacking in the romance. It was noticeable, for instance, that the basic dialogue between male Shepard and female Shepard was unchanged, if either was starting a new romance with Kaidan. The thing that always felt... WRONG about that was that if I’d had the option to begin a romance with him in the first game, I would have. Yet there’s not even a bit of dialogue that even references that inability, no comment of “I didn’t think you were available,” or anything of the sort, nothing to say that, say, Shepard was interested in Kaidan at the time, but didn’t believe he’d be receptive, didn’t want to damage their friendship, something of the sort. There was even a cut in the romance scene, where female Shepard will sit in Kaidan’s lap before being lifted up and carried to the bed, but with male Shepard and Kaidan, just fades to black. And then in the Citadel DLC, while all the other pairings walked in to the casino arm in arm, male Shepard and Kaidan are leaving plenty of room between them. There’s also the absence of any cuddling as they return to the Normandy.

To say nothing of the lack of Steve Cortez during the story segments of Citadel – he is not part of the big team entrance to the apartment, just spontaneously appears in the lounge room. He doesn’t participate in the briefings, and he is not a casino date, despite being part of the assembled team. Cortez also suffers from the fact that his romance spends so much time on how he needs to move on from the death of his husband, Shepard can come across as predatory towards him, trying to push him out of his grief and his pants. Due to the lateness of his arrival in the story, in game three, as opposed to game one or two, there is significantly less time to establish him as a person – beyond his past as a pilot and the death of his husband, we gain almost no concept of his personality or personal history.

I bring all of this up to help set the stage of what was expected when Mass Effect Andromeda was nearing release. Mass Effect had been full of problems of representation of queer men specifically (not that they were perfect on the count of female/female relationships either, because there’s plenty to talk about there, but as I’m not a lesbian or bisexual woman, I don’t feel comfortable talking about their experiences for them). While there were flaws, Dragon Age, what is often considered Mass Effect’s sister franchise, HAD managed to provide male/male romances in every iteration of that franchise.

In fact, considering that Dragon Age’s most recent installment, Dragon Age Inquisition, had been put out with a lot of fanfare about the first gay male companion, who was considered rather popular in the fandom, and the game itself receiving the Game of the Year award that year, indicating that, if there was any risk in the business sense of providing representation of queer men, it was negligible at most in the bottom line of that game, the attitude of a lot of gay men in the lead up to Andromeda’s release was some variation of “okay, Mass Effect has been flawed, but BioWare’s learned from their past mistakes, and they’re coming off the heels of a hugely successful game that had a gay character whose gayness was front and center in his storyline... We can expect that things will be fine, and we don’t have to worry.” That was the dominant attitude I found in a lot of my queer-oriented spaces.

But we started getting uncomfortable as the developers remained cagey about romance options in Andromeda – there were Twitter responses to “we’re concerned about Mass Effect’s history of gay representation, we would like to know about the options” that came out as “we checked and yep! They’re there!” These responses came across as flippant and even tone-deaf – the reason that the question was being asked was because of prior failures to be included, and not simply a desire to get all the details before launch.

As the trailers started coming out, the questions continued from the fans, and the response from the developers... continued to be uncomfortable. When asked directly for a listing of romances prior to release, the response was that the developers wanted players to learn as they played, that “the fun is in experiencing it!” This was a specific response when it was learned that the romance options could be flirted with regardless of orientation, but they would shut it down. Despite the fact that the trailers DID include content from certain romances – specifically, the male Ryder/Cora and male Ryder/Peebee romances.

This was uncomfortable for a lot of queer players like myself because it spoke to a lack of consideration of what it is like to be queer. In many places, it is a serious question of safety to even put yourself out there to find a partner, to flirt with someone openly unless you are already certain that there is a chance for a positive response. There are places where a queer person flirting with the wrong person can get them harassed, assaulted, even killed for doing so. Even in the safety of a virtual construct of video games, these are honed instincts that queer people have developed. And no matter how many times we would say this to the developers, no one seemed to understand. Likewise, the fact that the trailers felt free to show off heterosexual romances, but not queer ones felt... questionable.

Then, finally, firm details started coming out, and... There were problems. Early data-mining said that there was an even split of romances between orientations. But there was a bit of discomfort around the reveal that the gay characters, Suvi and Gil, were limited to the ship, rather than being companions who would accompany Ryder on missions. There is a history of companions being given more involved storylines and involvement than secondary characters. It also didn’t help the disappointment from queer people who’d been eager for Cora or Liam as romances, who were firmly established as straight (Cora herself had a popular lesbian following).

That discomfort increased when it came out further that, ACTUALLY, Jaal would not be available for Male Ryder. This caused a lot of upset. Now it was a case where there was NO M/M squadmate romance option. This on top of the group of fans who were uncomfortable with the idea that, in a sci-fi series, gay men couldn’t romance an alien, while this had become a staple of the series, considering Liara, the character from a species described as equivalent to Star Trek green-skinned Orion girls, had been available for straight men and lesbian/bi women from ME1, and straight women got in on the act with Garrus and Thane in ME2, on top of straight men also getting Tali.

This got worse when the achievement listing for the game was released and there was an achievement for “romancing three different characters.” Meaning that it was absolutely impossible for a gay man to play the game and get this achievement without playing a sexuality other than his own.

This is why I led with my experience with Jade Empire, why it was so affirming to me. Because to hear all this, ten years later, to see what had been so affirming to me a decade prior be functionally dismissed, be shown to take a secondary position at best... It hurt.

And the game proper did not help that feeling at all.

So first we meet Gil Brodie. Engineer of the Tempest. One of the first things we learn about him is that he has a close friendship with a woman named Jill. And then he immediately tells us that one) she is a fertility specialist, and two) she “says [he’s] part of the problem” because he won’t have kids the natural way. This is immediately setting off red flags to me – I can think of plenty of my friendships where we give one another grief for various things, but I would never think of introducing any of them to someone else with that fact. So my reflexive thought in this situation is “what kind of a friend is this really?”

And then, as the game goes on... This is the only thing that Gil’s conversations involve, the prospect of having kids. We do not learn much more about him, just have him talking about considering the idea. The lock-in for his romance requires Ryder to meet Jill, who Gil again says that she will talk his ear off about his “civic duty” to reproduce, a fact that makes those earlier red flags wave higher and more furiously, because who DOES that to a total stranger? And this is passed off as being “charming.” This leads to the culmination of the romance, where Gil says that Jill has decided she wants to get pregnant and she wants Gil to be the dad.

There’s... A LOT going on here, so let me work through this. First, one of the few things Gil says as a bit of establishing his character is that he is impulsive, that he joined the Andromeda Initiative, the journey from the Milky Way galaxy to the Andromeda galaxy without really thinking through what it would mean, that it was a one-way journey with no way to back out once he’d gotten there. So this is already saying to me that this is not a person who really SHOULD be a parent, at least at this point in his life.

We also get a couple of emails from him in-game that paint him as putting in thirty-six hour workdays into the engines on the Tempest, that he cares about and puts a lot of time into those engines. So when I think about him as a father, I see him having to give up something he’s deeply passionate about to do it, because the Tempest is certainly no place to raise a child – they can’t exactly put a playpen in the cargo hold, for example.

This would be one of the first things that I would think of as a discussion element, but... it’s not there. All that we get is a couple of casual comments about how Gil should know that bringing a child into the world is a big thing, something that shouldn’t be done lightly. But this is framed as Ryder questioning Gil’s fitness to be a parent at all, rather than questioning if he’s thinking this through and having considered this enough to be ready to take on this responsibility, or if it’s even something that he even wants.

Because that’s the other big thing here – this is not Gil’s idea. This is not something that he makes clear is his desire. No, it’s Jill who has decided that she wants to get pregnant and use Gil’s sperm. For all that he matters in this whole thing, he might as well be a turkey baster. He’s basically an accessory in his own story, because he goes in to this with all the passion of a math equation: “The Andromeda Initiative is a colonization effort. Therefore, the idea is to have babies. Therefore, I should find some way to reproduce.” This isn’t him having a passion or desire to have kids, just it being “something you do.”

This is, genuinely, a failure to understand the character who was being written. Gil’s writing reeks of having been written by someone who does not know what they are talking about. There is an element to the gay experience that is not innate but learned. When we realize that having children is not a thing that will just happen, that if we want this to happen, it will require a lot of additional steps, there are many who will simply say “this isn’t for me, this is more work than I’m willing to put in to for this.”

Now, Gil could have been someone who had decided it was worth it, but that butts up against the idea of him being impulsive, that he doesn’t think things through. There is no time given to focusing on the reason he decides this is the right choice for him, to the point that many players felt that this was not Gil’s decision but something that Jill was pushing, that she expected him to jump on her command. Because we have so little of Gil, as a character and an individual, but plenty of him talking up her, this “friendship” feels toxic to many.

Just about everyone I have ever spoken with about Gil is deeply uncomfortable that literally, the only way that he will not have a child at this point is if a romanced Ryder stops him – if I am playing a game where I don’t romance him, I actively just stop interacting with him at a certain point so that this never comes up, because this does not come across as happy. It comes across as forcing a gay man into a heteronormative experience to satisfy some traditional idea of “man and woman, raising kids.”

And, as the cherry on top, if you do tell Gil that you’re not comfortable having kids – a very real thing, whether gay or straight – then, unlike other romances, Gil and Ryder do not share a kiss at the finale of the game. And, during the last conversations on Meridian, the only thing Gil even brings up is Jill being pregnant, whether or not it’s his child.

This is what “representation of gay men” amounted to in Mass Effect Andromeda. A homophobic story that was about a gay experience written by someone who is not a part of this community and does not know or understand the experience personally, going through the motions of development when really, all that is cared about is the end result. To say that most of the gay men I know who have played this game find this homophobic is to undersell the point.

It doesn’t help that, of all the Tempest romances, Gil also clocks in with the least amount of romance exclusive material – a few flirts, the romance lock in and scene, and being able to stop Gil from having kids. Other than that, his friendship and his romance are virtually identical.

Speaking of, the romance scene consists of a make out session that fades to black, before coming back in with Ryder and Gil, shot from about shoulders up, briefly wrapping up their conversation that preceded the fade to black. This is noteworthy when the heterosexual romances between Ryder and their human love interests, as well as Peebee and Jaal, the former having a similar body model to naked human women, just blue, and Jaal, who is naked at other points in the game, have much more involved romance scenes – Cora’s in specific received special attention.

All of this, individually, may have just been reflective of time crunch and other external pressures – we all understand the realities of game development, that for all the ambitions that go in, when the deadlines are nearing, something has to give. But taken collectively... The kindest question is to ask why all of the “give” happened in regards to the gay man?

The end result with Gil honestly feels like he was written in response to the bad faith arguments that had come up in the period after the name for the game was revealed and it was made clear that the game would follow a colonization effort. There were a contingent of people who said that “there shouldn’t be gay people coming along, a colonization effort needs to reproduce.” This is a bad faith argument from homophobes, trying to justify why they don’t want gay people in “their” games. In answering their question, the question they only “ask” in order to explain why they don’t want to have gay people in the game without saying that, it comes across as catering the gay content for a heterosexual audience. It should go without saying that this is a bad position to take.

So, that’s Gil. What about Reyes? Well, Reyes himself is bound to a single planet, which, again, points to a minimizing of how much content he will even get, since his content can only be accessed on this single planet. Likewise, Reyes, as a character, is someone who falls in to several old, tired tropes with regards to bisexual men – he is a shady, untrustworthy character, in this instance literally a criminal, meant to be evocative of the “dashing rogue” archetype. This is a characterization that has often been BioWare’s go-to with regards to bisexual men, because we see this archetype drawn on in Jade Empire’s Sky, Dragon Age Origins’ Zevran, Dragon Age 2’s Anders, and even elements exist in Dragon Age Inquisition’s Dorian (even if he is a gay man). It’s a well that BioWare has frequently tapped when it comes to a romance option for queer men, to the point that it starts to feel like BioWare in general believes that this IS what queer men are.

There’s also the questionable portrayal of Reyes that leads to a description of the trope “the depraved bisexual,” an explicitly bisexual character who uses sex and sexuality as a manipulative tool, that they treat others as simply there to be their toys. Over in Dragon Age Inquisition, one of the romance options was specifically NOT made bisexual in order to avoid this trope, but Reyes himself seems to be a candidate for that trope all the same.

All this, and, again, the romance options for gay men were unequal to those for everyone else. This prompted the campaign #MakeJaalBi – Jaal was, notably, the character initially assumed to be the bisexual male companion, and on release, his romance was heterosexual exclusive. But datamining revealed that there was code for him to be romanced by male Ryder. Indeed, on release, it was noteworthy that Jaal could not even be flirted with by male Ryder. Liam had a distinct turndown for male Ryder, a couple of them, depending on when Ryder flirts with him. Jaal had no such turndown.

And this worked. BioWare released the patch for Andromeda that gave Jaal a bisexual romance. However, this was the only change that Mass Effect Andromeda received in regards to the issues of the romances before support for the game ended. While it was seen as an improvement, it was also questioned why this was the only change, when... Well, I spent the better part of two pages outlining the problems of Gil’s portrayal.

(I feel I would be remiss to not mention there was also a character, Hainley Abrams, who would, upon interacting with her, proceed to deadname herself to Ryder, as if that is the only way to establish that a transgender person is trans. This was also changed in a patch after the trans community complained, and, in conjunction with the above, led more than a few people to wonder if the Andromeda script had been looked over by any queer sensitivity readers, given the earlier issues with Gil. This does go out of the scope of everything else in this discussion, but it is worth mentioning.)

When Mac Walters says players will talk about how Shepard is each of theirs, that every individual player approaches Shepard as being “their” Shepard, he isn’t wrong. He says the characters, and the relationships we have with the characters is the heart and soul of the series, he isn’t wrong. And yet... When I play the trilogy, my heart and soul are being torn apart, because I do not get to see myself in the trilogy. I am not there in this story, at least for two thirds of the way. And in that third that I am there, I feel like I am cared about less than my counterparts who are heterosexual.

The idea that “making” characters available for same sex romance changes them is like saying that there is some inherent difference in a person because of their sexualities. While it’s true that the experiences of queer people does offer different perspectives on matters, it does not fundamentally alter the person, the individual that we are. It does not change our heart and soul. Restoring the bisexuality of characters like Jack, Jacob, Ashley, Thane, or Tali is not changing who they are. Making Kaidan bisexual in ME3 did not change who he was, and restoring a romance between him and male Shepard in ME1 would not change him either.

Every game has some cut content surrounding queer content specifically, and a great deal of that content is specifically for gay players like myself. I said at the beginning that I once thought of myself as a BioWare fan for life, but that now comes with caveats. The caveats are pretty simple – while the games produced by BioWare once felt affirming, now they feel like they’re only grudgingly allowing me to be there. That if I must be there, I should just take the scraps I’m given and be content with that, rather than being treated as an equal.

I like to think that this is not the message that the people at BioWare wish to impart to their players. I like to believe BioWare’s statements of wanting to be an inclusive and welcoming environment for their players, regardless of gender, race, sexuality, orientation, whatever identity and label one chooses. But based on the experience of the last four games, of the Legendary Edition perpetuating the homophobia of over a decade ago... I have a hard time believing that.

BioWare games once made me feel like I was equal to the straight heroes across my media. Unfortunately, I don’t feel that way about their games anymore. Not when, after having the opportunity to restore the bisexuality of Kaidan – of multiple characters, really – in the Legendary Edition, I am still being told that offering representation for people like me is something that only comes grudgingly.

And if that’s what I see now... What does it say about what the future of the franchise will offer? If every game in this series involves fighting for content that, in particular, heterosexual players will see offered as the rule, what motivates me to want to continue to be invested and involved in this franchise?

#bioware critical #dg rants #another angry queer rant #make mass effect inclusive #make mele inclusive #makemeleinclusive

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zims-left-shoe · 4 years

Note

I'd about this stuff but zim x reader where reader has to introduce zim to family and its awkward and fluffy?!?! Did I do that correctly??

AAAA yes!! This prompt actually works perfectly. Ily bby!! I really need to get back on Insta and Snap so we can talk more lmao.

Romance. What even is it? You could never say for sure, and yet you had been playing the courtship expert for about a month or so. What else were you supposed to do? Not only would he not take no for an answer, it was a fine way to kill your boredom. He had zero expectations, which was what made it great. You could tell him anything and he would believe it. Boyfriends were supposed to do their s/o's homework for them? He never questioned it once. To be completely honest, he was the only reason you were passing chemistry and calculus.

That being said, at the end of the day, it was all one big game. Wasn't it? All he had asked of you was to be his 'lovepig' in a romantic experiment he was conducting. You had nothing else better to do, and hell, it wasn't like you needed to be keeping your options open. You were just as unpopular as the alien freak himself. So, why not? Wasn't it just some mutualistic dynamic? You both benefited from it. He got 'data' (the accuracy of it questionable) for his Earth infiltration, and you got to have some fun. Plus, there was the fact that you haven't touched a homework assignment in weeks.

These were all things you had told yourself. You had managed to explain away all the times you had defended him from Dib and your classmates as being all part of the experiment. If there was a deeper reason, like real feelings perhaps, you didn't want to consider it too much. This relationship was intended to be one big joke after all.

"Y/n? Hello?" A hand was waved in front of your face, ripping you from your thoughts and reflections.

"Huh? Did you say something?" You tore your gaze from the plate of uneaten food that sat before you, eyes dragging up to meet those of your father. The man next to him groaned; your other father. You loved them both, but they were both staring at you with slightly annoyed frustration. They particularly disliked when you would space out while they were talking to you, which apparently they had been.

"Yes, I did. I said, when do we get to meet the boyfriend?" The one you called Father spoke; he was your biological sire, and the one you tended to get annoyed with the most. Genetics, you supposed. You were too much alike, and thus you butted heads often.

"Zim? I dunno." Shrugging, you picked at the dinner on your plate with your fork. It was a response that you hoped would suffice, despite knowing full well you had no intentions of ever introducing the Irken soldier for obvious reasons. Having lived with you for so long, they both knew what your response meant. At first, you assumed they'd only sigh and move on, but that wouldn't be the case.

"We really want to meet him. We've given it a month, but I think it's time that we finally see him." Your father spoke again, voice firmer than the last time.

"I know you said he's...er, unique, but we promise we won't think anything of it. So long as he's good to you, it doesn't matter." The one you called Dad chimed in, a kind smile on his face. You knew he wasn't just saying that, and that he meant it. He was probably the nicest person you had ever met, and you were thankful to have him in your life.

That being said, you couldn't help but scoff at what was said, particularly the last line. Good to you? Zim was probably the most selfish person you had ever met in your life. Still, he did provide you with a source of entertainment. And if you worded things the right way, he would do anything you wanted him to. He was surprisingly easy to manipulate.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing, Dad. But, no. I don't think you'll be meeting him." You expected that to be the end of it, bringing a forkful of dinner to your lips.

"Y/n M/n L/n, you will bring your boyfriend home within the next week or else you won't be seeing him ever again." Eyes widening in surprise, your fork clattered against your plate as it slipped through your fingers. You would never have predicted your father to become so agitated over this. On some level, you supposed he was just looking out for you, wanting to make sure that Zim was a decent guy and all that. But at the same time, it was annoying. Did he not trust you to handle yourself? Plus, you were almost certain they wouldn't be satisfied upon actually meeting Zim.

You remained silent. What you should have done was once again shrug your shoulders and say, 'fine'. Your relationship wasn't even supposed to be real, just some experiment that didn't matter too much to either of you. So why should you care if they forced you to break up because you wouldn't bring him home? And yet...you found yourself devastated at the mere thought of that. Was it because you enjoyed the absence of boredom? That had to be it. It couldn't possibly be because you had developed feelings for the little roach...no way.

"You either bring him home for dinner Friday night, or-" Your father pressed, and you slammed your palm on the table before he could continue.

"Fine, okay!" Glaring at your food, you were no longer hungry. You just wanted dinner to be over. "May I be excused?" You asked, voice still seething with attitude. They both waved you off, so you took your plate and covered it, putting it in the fridge for later. Storming off to your room, you supposed you shared more similarities with your 'boyfriend' than you'd like to admit. You both had quick tempers for one thing, but you both liked being in control for another. You were about to get a rude awakening soon enough; you weren't keeping your feelings and relationships in check as much as you thought.

(more under the cut)

There were several ways your peers, if asked, would describe you. Nice, however, was not particularly one of them. It wasn't that you weren't a good person deep down. You just preferred to make yourself your number one priority, even if it turned you into a little bit of a bitch in the process. It was much easier than taking the risk of offering yourself up to others. After all, who really wants to deal with untangling the mess of emotions? Ignoring everything was the safest thing to do. Considering that, it wasn't surprising that you and Zim had been drawn together. They say opposites attract, but you found it to work almost the same for those who are similar.

After all, Zim was also a big supporter of suppressing all emotions, so much so that you were sure he forgot he even had any. And maybe he didn't. You didn't think it was possible, considering he was still pretty much a person, but at the same time, you never asked about Irken psychology.

Not only that, but Zim seemed to care only for himself at all times. Even in the times he would do anything that vaguely resembled an act of love, it still had everything to do with his own personal motivations of gaining human courtship data.

With all of that on the table, plus the fact that you weren't really sure what the status of your relationship even was, you weren't expecting you would be bringing him home for dinner Friday. What you envisioned happening was for him to call this whole thing off once you gave him the ultimatum, claiming that he had enough research so you would be through.

And again, there was that small wave of anxiety that passed over you. For whatever reason, you didn't want to lose whatever it was the two of you had going on. You had grown used to having someone to talk to everyday, even if the majority of conversation was listening to him drone on about his evil plans to conquer the Earth in the name of the Irken empire. Frowning, you glanced down to whatever toxic food substance was sitting on your tray.

The surrounding cafeteria was filled with the chatter of your classmates, all rambling about mostly unimportant things. You had your popular kids laughing and running their own psychoanalysis on Dib, who in turn ignored them from across the room while his sister played video games by his side. You also had your social outcasts, sitting by themselves and discussing whatever they liked to talk about; well, Gretchen wasn't exactly talking. She chose to occupy her time by staring at Dib, who in turn ignored her too. Same shit as always.

The din of irrelevant voices and clattering plates barely did anything to mask the forceful footsteps approaching your table, ones that could only be brought about by a soldier's march. Whether it was because you had grown so used to the sound or you were so wrapped up in your mind, the noise didn't register with you until a tray was harshly dropped onto the table.

"Why do you look like that?" The alien now sitting across from you asked, with a hint of something that at first you thought was distaste, but later recognized to be Zim's version of concern. Which was strange in itself, concern for others was always an afterthought for him, sometimes not even a thought at all.

"Like what?"

"All shmoopy." You narrowed your eyes, about to give a remark of denial, but whatever words died in your throat as you instinctively straightened up from your slouch, lips straightening from downturned into a neutral expression.

Breathing out a sigh, you decided to just get straight to the point before he would go off on a tangent about whatever thing Dib said in class that offended him. "Look, Zim. You need to come over for dinner Friday night, or else our relationship, experiment, whatever the hell it is, is over." Zim opened his mouth to say something, but you continued on before he could get even a single syllable out. "I know you don't want to, and believe me, you embarrassing yourself in front of my family is the last thing I want, but my parents are demanding to meet you. And if they don't, they're forbidding me from seeing you again or whatever."

The Irken stayed quiet for a moment, thinking this over. To you, you guessed that his silence was him formulating some great break up speech in his head, so you braced for it. Why you even cared was beyond you, but it was still not what you wanted. "First of all, Zim will not embarrass himself!" You fixed him with a disbelieving look. There was no chance in any of the infinite parallel universes that he would not make a complete fool of himself. "But FINE! Zim will conquer this...interrogation."

Rolling your eyes, you attempted to fight the grin tugging at your lips. "It's not an interrogation, roach boy."

He disregarded your comment, clearly no longer listening. Instead, he hopped up onto the table, heeled soldier boots striking the tabletop, the sound echoing off the cafeteria walls. "Zim will be the best love-mate your parental units have ever laid eyes on!!" He yelled, throwing his fists in the air. Shrinking into yourself, you covered your face with your arms, face burning from the heads that were all turning in your direction to stare.

"Please don't say it like that." After a moment, Zim climbed back down and into his seat on the bench. Your classmates quickly lost interest, as these outbursts were commonplace. Eventually, you came out of your self cocoon to lay some very specific instructions on him. "Okay, cool. I need you to listen very carefully."

"Eh?" He snapped his attention back to you. Groaning, you reached across the tabled to grab his hand, your go to move to make sure he listened to you.

"Come over Friday at six. The whole time, just smile and nod. Don't say anything more than necessary. Just get by with the bare minimum, and then go home. Do you understand?" You looked to him with an intense look in your eyes. You knew that if you were not explicitly clear, the night could end in disaster. House-exploding, alien death battle kind of disaster.

"Of course I do! Don't worry your stinky head, Zim has it under control." He dropped your hand, waving you off, overconfident as always.

"Alright...I'm trusting you." You didn't trust him in the slightest. But there was really nothing you would be capable of doing. You had instructed him, very specifically you might add, and that was all you could do. And hope. You would be hoping too. With one last relenting sigh, you had no time to process the relief that came with the surprise of not being broken up with. Whatever relaxation you had briefly felt was immediately replaced by dread for Friday.

You laid sprawled on the couch, staring at the ceiling and drumming your fingers on your stomach. You really hoped that Zim would take your advice and behave himself over the course of the next few hours, but in the back of your mind, you knew that to be impossible. The house had been quiet, save for the clanging of pots and pans in the kitchen as your dad worked on dinner. Meanwhile, your father was just finishing tidying up the house, despite you telling him that it didn't matter. You told him that Zim wouldn't care, but the real reason it didn't matter is it probably would end up in worse shape regardless. His response had been to ignore you as he continued to wipe down surfaces you forgot existed.

Right at six o'clock on the dot, your doorbell rang. You bolted up right, scrambling to reach the door faster than your father. Unfortunately, you weren't quite quick enough to match his long-legged stride, and he threw open the door just as you had the doorway within your sights. You had to skid to a halt in order to stop yourself from slamming into your father's back.

"You must be Zim." Your father's voice was firm, but not threatening. At least not yet. You peered around him to get a good look at Zim, who, to your relief, was smiling and nodding. You stifled the laugh that was brought on at the sight of a simple black bow tie that was tied very incorrectly around his neck. It was a strange sight, considering it didn't quite fit with the standard invader uniform he always adorned.

Your father stepped aside to let him in, sticking his hand out afterwards, prompting the Irken to shake it. Zim gazed at it quizzically, apparently not understanding what to do. Just as you were about to bestow a helpful hint, his face brightened as he kicked his leg up, resting his foot in your father's hand. He still seemed to be processing the motivations behind Zim's actions, but before he could respond, you grabbed ahold of Zim's leg, yanking it back onto the ground. The invader stumbled, and before he could fall, you threw an arm around his shoulders, pulling him in close and poking his cheek.

"Oh, Zim, what a jokester! Anyway, we'll be off now, call when dinner's ready-" You tried to drag your alien counterpart away before he could do anything else stupid, but unfortunately, your father had other plans.

"No, I don't think so." Although his voice was less than pleased, you knew he was just trying to put up an intimidating front. He wanted to scare Zim at least a little bit. Groaning, you turned around. "So, you think this whole thing is one big joke, huh?"

"Father, please-" You rolled your eyes, knowing that Zim was too dense to actually be pressured by your father's act.

"You do drugs? Ever been suspended?"

"I thought you said this wasn't an interrogation." Zim muttered to you, and although it was intended to only be heard by you, Zim is physically incapable of speaking under his breath, and thus your father heard it too. You thought he was more fazed by Zim being unaffected by his grill attempts than what was actually said.

"What's with the...you know?" Your father decided to ignore Zim's comment and go right for the green elephant in the room: Zim's appearance. In all honesty, it was a rude question. But, Zim was used to it by now.

"We talked about this! It's a skin condition!" You sighed in exasperation, just wanting to get through this night with your sanity intact. "Also, you can't just ask people that." There was an awkward pause between everybody, and you almost wished Zim would start screaming about something not even relevant.

Luckily, you didn't have to stew in silence for much longer. "Dinner's ready, come get it or don't!" Your dad called from the table. You gestured for Zim to follow you as you shuffled after your father, whose strides were quick and long, making it hard to keep up at a normal pace. Both parents had sat down, you following suit across from them. Zim, however, stayed standing, eyes fixated on the plate and glass of water resting on the table in front of the chair next to you. You hoped he was sensible enough to just ignore the food and sit there politely.

"You can sit down, you know." Your father eyed Zim skeptically. The invitation to take a seat seemed to snap Zim out of his trance, as he sat down so fast he bumped the table, making the silverware shake. He finally appeared to take notice of your parents, and pointed a clawed finger across the table.

"It's like my Tallest!" His grin was wide, and his contacts portrayed his excitement. Your parents, on the other hand, looked to be beyond confused. You didn't exactly blame Zim for the association, considering both were tall males, and his comment made you notice that they were coincidentally wearing hues of red and purple. "I didn't know you had your own Tallest."

"Who?" Your dad asked, eyes flicking between you and your uninformed alien boyfriend. You gave Zim a swift swat to his thigh under the table, intending to convey the message of 'what happened to smiling and nodding?'. He seemed to understand your intention, and answered your dad's question by cracking a smile and nodding furiously. Internally, you were smacking yourself in the face as both parents stared at you as if they were wondering whether or not Zim was higher than a fucking kite. The dinner so far was going fantastic. At least he hadn't caused any physical damage yet.

Your father cleared his throat, deciding to move on. "So, Zim...what are your plans after high school?" Thank god, a subject change. That being said, your relief only lasted about a half a second before you realized he didn't have any answers to this type of question, and he was horrible at bullshitting.

"Um...oh, you know...stuff." Zim took a fork and began to experimentally stab at the food that was on his plate. "Sciency stuff." He tacked on those words, sensing your father not being satisfied with his original answer.

"Like what, doing an internship at Membrane Labs or something?" Your father continued to ask questions, but at this point you were helpless to stop him. Zim was on his own.

"Yes!" Your father seemed to not believe Zim's confirmation, so you decided to help him out.

"Yeah, he's actually really good friends with Dib. You know, the Professor's son." You offered, albeit a stretch of the truth. The two knew each other very well, and, well, enemies after enough time are basically friends anyway.

"Yes...the Dib-worm is my best friend." Zim spoke through gritted teeth, and you prayed that your parents wouldn't pick up on the venom seeping into every syllable.

"You have any siblings?" Your dad asked, gaze less critical than the man next to him.

"No." His answer was short, almost as if he was attempting to speedrun the questions to get this dinner over with faster. Unfortunately, your parents would only fill it with more questions. Any attempt to stop them would be futile.

"Where are you from exactly?"

"Somewhere that isn't here. Eh, uh, er...it's very far. You wouldn't know it." Your father raised an eyebrow, growing tired of Zim's evasive and nonspecific responses. In a shocking turn of events, Zim was actually able to read the room for once in his life, picking up on your parents' distrust. "Wow, is this good food or what?" Before you could squeak out a single sound, Zim began to shovel the food on his plate into his mouth as fast as he could, washing it down by chugging the glass of water.

This of course sent you into a panic. You reached out an arm, to do what you weren't sure, but you never made contact. Instead, your hand hovered in the air as you gawked at Zim in bewilderment. He wasn't smoking, flailing, or screaming. In fact, he was taking it quite well. Everything seemed to be okay, and even he seemed to be surprised. His face relaxed into a smile when he realized that nothing was trying to kill him from the inside. Which, if that was what he had expected, you weren't quite sure what his plan had been in the first place, but you knew better than to question him. Questioning Zim only led to long rants that no one had the energy or the willpower to listen to.

"Thank you-" Your dad's gratitude was cut off by Zim's ear piercing shriek as he dropped to the ground, knocking aside his chair in the process. He thrashed about like a fish out of water as he clawed desperately at his throat and face. Apparently, the delayed reaction had kicked in. His ear-piercing screeches were chopped up by choking and spluttering as he continued to kick and flounder his limbs around wildly. Looking up from the Irken rolling around on the ground to your parents, you noticed that they looked absolutely petrified.

"He's fine! He'll be fine!" You waved your hands desperately, despite knowing full well they would never believe you. As if to accentuate the incorrectness of your statement, Zim howled out another cry of pain, the sound twisting your face into a cringe. At once, your parents clambered out of their seats, stumbling over each other to get to your side of the table. Your dad kneeled down next to Zim and tried to help him, completely at a loss for what was going on. Meanwhile, your father grabbed you by the wrist and dragged you off around the corner to the kitchen.

As you're being hauled away, you hear a distant "Should I call 911?" from your dad.

As soon as you were out of ear shot of your suffering boyfriend, your father whisper yelled at you. "What the hell is wrong with him?!"

Again, you felt the need to defend him. It wasn't his fault that his alien biology couldn't handle Earth food, and that he didn't understand Earth culture too well. Okay, maybe that last one was his fault considering he's been on the planet for about four years and blending in was kind of his job. But still! "Look, I promise he's a decent guy once you get to know him."

"He's strange, Y/n! Not in the good way, in a concerning way." He hissed to you, never dropping eye contact.

"He's just a little different is all!"

"A little different?! He's dying in our dining room!" Suppressing the urge to say, 'you mean our die-ning room?', you took a deep breath, preparing to explain away the probably traumatizing situation your parents were witnessing.

"He has a biological condition that makes it to where he can't a majority of foods." You thought that maybe that statement would calm him down, but it only seemed to worry him more.

"Jesus, Y/n, you couldn't have told us about the dietary restrictions before you brought him over? We almost just killed him!" Running a hand through his hair, he watched as you cast your eyes toward the ground, wringing your hands together. You knew he was right. It was something you should have thought of saying beforehand, you should have just told Zim to bring some Irken food along. But you had expected him to not even think about touching the food. And yet, you had just watched as he scarfed down almost the entire plate and a whole glass of water.

"Sorry! But...would you please just give him another chance?" You pleaded, voice sweeter than you had ever sounded in your life.

With a heavy sigh, your father nodded, waving you in the direction of the dining room. "Fine, if he doesn't need to go to the hospital, he can stay for the movie if he wants to. Just go hang out upstairs while we clean up" Your smile displayed your thanks as you made your way back to the scene of the accident. Things seemed to be alright now. If anything, your dad was more shaken up than Zim was. The Irken was standing again, pretending as if nothing happened.

"C'mon." You said nothing more as you took him by the hand, pulling him towards your room. He didn't protest, glad to be away from your dad who had been continuing to fuss over him. As you shut the door to your room behind you, the solace that came with knowing he was okay completely drained from your body. "What the hell was that?!" You smacked him lightly on the arm. He should know better than to consume food that would cause his insides to sizzle and smoke. Apparently, he seemed to still think that had been an ingenious idea.

"Zim was trying to show them that I am a good candidate for your love partner!" Your eyes widened, astonished on multiple levels. He really was a special kind of clueless, wasn't he?

"That was not the way! And why do you even care? I thought this was just some stupid experiment? Why should you care if this whole thing ends, you can just find someone else!" Throwing your hands up, your voice raised in volume, fire licking every word.

"Because Zim doesn't want someone else! Zim wants you, Stinky...Stink-worm." His voice had matched yours in loudness at first, but near the end of his words he grew quieter, arms crossed tightly against his chest, eyes averted in curt sheepishness. If Irkens could blush, you were sure he would be.

Any follow up argument you possessed had fled your brain, the only thing replacing it being the slight heat that flushed your cheeks. "Zim...are you saying that you actually...like me?" You were surprised, but pleasantly so. Now that you had to force yourself to think on it, you had realized that somewhere along the way, you began to like the roach boy more than you care to admit. It was a bit irritating to dwell on, considering this whole arrangement was, in the end, supposed to be no strings attached. He got his data, you had something to fill your time. Life has a funny way of panning things out, regardless of your intentions.

"Zim is saying nothing!" His eyes were shut tight, a sign you could interpret as confirmation to your question. Neither of you would admit it, nor ever wanted to. That was the unfortunate downside to both sides of the equation having destructively low EQs.

Even if you wanted to press him more, you were interrupted by your parents calling you for the movie. Sighing, it seemed you would have to shelve this conversation for a later date, which was fine by you. Feelings were messy and complicated anyway. "Let's go, roach boy." Zim followed without complaint, and as soon as you both came into view, your parents hit play on the film, which you instantly recognized as E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial, something you had seen a million times. It had been your movie of choice as a kid. "Topical." You murmured under your breath, directing Zim to the couch.

Your parents seemed impressed to see Zim alive and well, acting as if he hadn't been borderline dying on the dining room floor less than twenty minutes ago. "We've seen this about a hundred times, we know how it ends. You two have fun." Your father smiled to the both of you. Apparently, he actually listened to you and was giving Zim the benefit of the doubt.

"But not too much fun." Your dad added helpfully, but of course the implications of his comment flew right over Zim's head.

"Anyway, if we don't see you before you leave, it was nice to meet you, Zim. Sorry for almost killing you." Your father didn't wait for a response--which he most likely wouldn't have gotten anyway--before heading to bed with your dad, most likely to watch something of their own. Your parents flicked the lights off as they exited, leaving the room dark, save for the light being thrown from the TV, as well as a soft glow coming from Zim's PAK. You had never noticed that before, but it made sense, considering this was the first time you had seen him in the dark before.

"You might like this. It's about an alien who comes to Earth. Well, more like gets stranded on Earth."

"Hmm." Zim peered at the screen with interest, but began to frantically rub at his eyes, blinking repeatedly. Before you could even ask if he was okay, he snapped a tired response. "Contacts are bothering Zim."

"Just take 'em out." He attempted to fix you with a distrusting stare, but it was broken by another stint of scratching. "They won't be coming back out, at least not before you leave. You'll be fine." You sank into the couch cushions, the darkness and familiarity of a favorite movie easing you into a contented state.

"Fine. But Zim is blaming you if you're wrong, Stink-worm." With speed and skill, he peeled the lenses from his eyes, stowing them in his PAK, which didn't seem all that sanitary. He blinked a few more times, but seemed comfortable. You directed your attention to the TV screen, but it was snapped away again at the feeling of weight settling on your thigh. Looking down, you saw Zim's head casually laid on your leg, eyes fixated on the movie. "Say anything and I'm replacing your organs with space squids." Zim grumbled, still not looking at you.

"That's not very nice." You snickered through your words. You knew his threat was empty, and you weren't exactly a stranger to outlandish warnings yourself.

The Irken groaned, still not moving. "Ugh, fine. Say anything, and I'll, eh, lick your face or something." You said nothing more, arm resting lazily on his side, hand hanging near his own. Out of his own volition, he intertwined his claws with your fingers, almost daring you to say something. You didn't.

As the movie progressed, you could tell Zim was a hundred percent into it. That being said, when it came time for the scenes of Elliot and E.T. dying and being treated by the government, you felt Zim grip you a little tighter. You were beginning to wonder if you should turn it off. You were only encouraged in that thought when you felt Zim's back tremble, and although you couldn't see his face, you believed him to be crying.

You reached out your free hand for the remote, but stopped at the sound of Zim's uncharacteristically shaky voice. "Do-don't." You drew back your free hand, the other hand being tucked closer into Zim's chest. A sigh slipped past your lips, and you lifted him up and set him on the ground while he swiped at his eyes so you could kick your legs up and across the couch, reaching out to grab him and lay him on top of you before he could even begin to protest about being moved.

"You okay?" You asked, expecting a fight about being placed in this position.

To your amazement, he didn't squirm off of you at all, instead, saying a simple "Yes." He even cuddled into you, head resting on your chest as he watched the film. This was the calmest you had ever seen the normally high-energy alien. A hand began to absentmindedly stroke his back, the texture of the fabric of his uniform unlike any you had ever felt. At first you were at a loss for what the rumbling against your chest was, but after a moment you were able to place it. Purrs were rising from Zim's throat, and although it was reminiscent of a cat, it was still a sound that was distinctly alien. It was a noise you had never heard before.

"For the record, I like you. A lot." You murmured quietly, hoping he was too enthralled by the movie to register what was said. Regrettably for you, Zim only seemed to listen when you wished him not to.

"Zim also thinks you are quite tolerable...for an Earth-worm."

"Gee, thanks. I feel so special." Despite your words, there was still a smile in your voice. At this point, the movie was past it's tearjerker moments, and the kids were all trying to get E.T. back to the forest. "So, do Irkens have a thing like E.T., where they connect with someone?" The syncing of Elliot and E.T.'s biological functions, emotions, and thoughts was a main plot point in the movie, and it got you wondering if maybe there was some accuracy, if not with Irkens, perhaps with another alien race?

"Sort of." His answer was unfocused, still drawn into the end of the film. You guessed this would be his new favorite Earth movie, which meant he would most certainly be demanding for you two to watch it together at least twice a month.

"What do you mean, ‘sort of’?"

"We mate for life." He paused while you were still processing his statement. "But I don't think that was the connection you were asking about."

"Oh brother." You mumbled, deciding to toss that information out the window. Good to know that you wouldn't be getting of the roach anytime soon...or ever.

#invader zim x reader #zim x reader #invader zim fic #invader zim fanfiction #invader zim #invader zim one shot #invader zim oneshot #fanfiction #fanfic #one shot #oneshot #request

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sweetchup · 4 years

Text

N.E.R.D.S

Type: Shalnark x reader

Au?: None

Word count: 3,000+

Warnings: Slight Mature content, Slight Yandere/Stalkerish themes, and Shalnark being a Shark

Today was going to be the last day. The last day at this terrible job. After this shift you were going to call up your boss and officially quit.

At first working at a nearby Cyber Cafe sounded fun. It was close to your flat and had a reasonable paycheck. Plus being surrounded by video games and fellow nerds sounded even fun. Yet it wasn’t. You should’ve walked out on your first day, for in the very first moments of walking into the place you stepped onto a melted, probably expired as well, chocolate bar. In your brand new shoes as well. It was disgusting and tragic, yet not the worst thing that has happened at this job.

In a simple sense while you worked here you weren’t an employee of a fine establishment, you were basically a servant. You were called upon again and again to make food and drinks for people, picked up after people when they left, yelled at when prices were too high or you told them what to do, jeered at by your boss, deal with horrible and lazy coworkers and had to fix the computers when they broke down (instead of taking it to a proper tech shop).

Most of the time, you could deal with that. You would just bite your tongue and give your most friendliest employee smile. But in no ways you could handle the many costumers you were groped or harassed by. Half the time you just wanted to take one of the electric cords, wrap it around their neck and just strangle them. But you were a reasonable person, a responsible adult so you would just report it to your manager. Though, of course, the situation was mostly just shrugged off. According to him, customers know best. What a load of bullcrap.

If customers truly knew best then why were you on your knees cleaning the 33th piece of trash scattered at this computer station. Hell you had filled 1 ½ trash bags just by yourself from cleaning up after people. That was too much. They should know how to pick up after themselves, you aren’t their mother.

Stretching and popping your back, you stand up. All the empty stations were finally sparkling cleaned. Though it did come at the price of your back. You’ll probably need to see a chiropractor or at least get a message from all the leaning and bending over you do at your job.

It also didn’t help that your coworker, Susan, called in sick last minute so you were stuck with an extra shift today and the graveyard shift at that.

“Sick my ass..” You grumbled under your breath, making your way back to your desk in the corner.

Since the place wasn’t busy tonight you could probably get away with watching anime or playing a new game. Hell even a nap if you got comfortable enough. Yet you stop when you see someone. His head was down on the desk but you knew it was him just from his golden hair being lighted up from the computer screen.

‘What was his name again? Shalnark? Yeah shalnark.’

Shalnark was an unfamiliar face. He showed up randomly at the cafe three days ago. It was pretty hard not to notice him. Wearing a lilac purple outfit and a constant smile on his face, he hadn’t moved since he entered. Tapping away constantly at the computer in front of him. He had been pretty nice to you and even cleaned up after himself. You actually liked talking to him the few times you talked. Though it was somewhat creepy when for some reason he knew your name when he first checked in. Though that was probably due to your name tag or maybe you had met once before at a party or something, you seemed close in age.

On top of that it was gobsmacking, yet pretty impressive, that he has slept once in the 3 days he’s been here. The other coworkers caught onto it as well in their shifts when you weren’t here. Yet it seems even Shalnark can’t run away from Father Sleep. Especially based on the fact he was currently faced down on his desk, with empty coffee cups surrounding him of course.

Suddenly you shiver as another puff of cold air comes out of the air conditioner. That was another thing you didn’t understand about the owner. Why in the world did he keep the cafe at freezing temps? Even in the winter right now. Biting your lip and rubbing your hands across the thick sweater on your arms for warmth you look concerned at Shalnark.

Was he cold? Normally you wouldn’t care about customers but he seemed like a nice guy, well except for the first time you talked but even then, it was probably your name tag. You just couldn’t help but be concerned since he was wearing a tank top in the winter.

Making up your mind you grabbed one of the many blankets and pillows in the lobby and walked over to him. Shakily you stand over him, slightly scared to wake the attractive man up from his slumber.

As you think over your decision you notice something interesting on the computer screen in front of you.

“The Dragon Eye Collection…”

It was on his notepad too. Why was he researching the Dragon Eye Collection? Sure they were a collection of 5 of the most beautiful fire opals in the world. But they were owned by the emperor, more like dictator, HuinYa Fushi of the Baiys Region. Due to his way of ruling with an iron fist, no one knew what they looked like or where they were exactly located, all that people knew was that they definitely exist. What in the world would Shalnark want with that? Was he maybe a reporter or even a Gem hunter? Though that wasn’t any of your concern. You shouldn’t pry into someone's life or business like that anyways.

Placing your hand on Shalnark’s shoulder you ever so lightly shake him. How was he asleep? His skin was practically frozen to the touch.

“Mr Shalnark?”

After a few more soft calls of his name he finally awoke. Sitting up, he squints under the computer’s harsh glow and looks over to you. He blinked a couple of times more, clearing struggling to keep himself awake. Though the bags under his eyes already told you he was plenty sleep deprived.

“I’m sorry for waking you, Mr Shalnark. But I came to bring you a blanket and a pillow. I wouldn’t want you to hurt your neck or catch a cold.”

You hold out for the blanket and pillow for him to take but he only shakes his head. His usual smile across his face, though it was less pleasant now with the bags under his eyes.

“Thank you (y/n)! But, please, there’s no need. I need to get back to wor…….”

The smile across his face disappears and his head droops down. He seems to practically, almost, pass out right then and there but he thankfully catches himself. Trying to somehow play it off, he leans an arm against the desk.

“To work! Yes work! I'm a very busy man after all.” Shalnark laughs off. Giving you a wink, he turns his attention back to screen in front of him.

Biting your lip you don’t know what to do. You definitely don’t believe he’s ok yet you also can’t force him to sleep. You two are strangers after al—

“Oh!” You let out in surprise and shock.

With a quick reflex you lung forward and catch Shalnark before his head hits the desk. Thank goodness you were still standing there, that could have really hurt. You lean him back but Shalnark stops you as he grabs on one your arm that was holding onto his shoulder and a little across the front of his chest. With tired eyes he shoots you an apologetic look.

“Sorry I didn’t know what came over me at that moment.” He apologizes; squeezing your arm.

You bit your lip again for the third time tonight. He needs sleep. He can’t continue going on like this, he could actually get hurt or even sick. Ever so lightly you push him to lean back into his chair. He goes to rebut you but you lean down to his face, making him go quiet.

“I’m sorry Mr Shalnark but I think you should go to bed.”

“But—“

Playfully you hold a finger up to his nose and boop it.

“No buts Mister. It’s time for bed.”

It was unprofessional and even childish of you to boop a grown man’s nose and tell him it’s time for bed. But you could easily see he was obviously trying to fight back and hooping his nose seemed to stun him.

While he was still stunned, you reclined the big office chair and put the blanket and pillow on him. It wasn’t as comfy as a bed but anything is better than sleeping hunched over a desk at this point.

As you finally get him to settle in his eyes begin to droop, yet he seems to continue to try and fight against it. Reaching a hand out you rub and groom Shalnark’s hair. He looks up at you as you shoot him a small smile.

“You need to go to bed, Shalnark. It’s okay to take a rest sometimes you know.”

His eyes go wide for a second and he opens his mouth wide like a fish.

“It’s you…it’s actually you. I can’t… the troupe is relying on me… I need to stay awake to figure out the location… the boss is relying on… me…” Shalnark mumbles out. His voice getting quieter and quieter.

And with that Shalnark was out cold.

Well at least you figured out that he does know you from somewhere. You wonder where. Also, the boss huh? He had to do something for him?

You looked over to the computer screen and notes in front of you. No wonder he was stressed out. You would be too if your boss and all of your workplace was relying on you to figure this out.

You could…you could always help him. You check the clock behind you. It was around 2am. Even if you took a nap now it wouldn’t be for much time and you did want to quit after tonight.

Making a decision you pull a chair over and look around you. The coast was clear as no one seemed to be watching. Stretching your fingers you put them to the keyboard and activate your aura.

You didn’t use Nen often but you were a talent transmitter. Through vigorous training you had managed to turn your Nen into data and electric signals. It was useless in battle for all you could do at most was glitch your body but, then again, you were never much of a fighter either.

Glitching and hacking through vast codes on the computer you finally make it onto the secret government site of the Fushi Empire. That was a piece of cake for you. You could probably even sneak in an episode of Bokemon after all this was done before you had to leave.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“What do you mean you quit?!?”

Sighing you leaning against the counter. Tapping your fingers against the surface. “Like I said before I quit. It’s just not the right job for me.”

“You can’t! I won’t allow you, you un—“

Done with your manager's bullshit you hang up the phone and take a sip from your coffee. After a couple of more sips you were able to finish the cup. Walking around the desk you toss the cup into the trash.

Taking one last look at the place around you, you grab your bag. You would like to say you will miss the place but… you definitely won’t. This place could burn in hell for all you cared.

Wrapping your jacket tighter you step out of the building and into the cold. Wow you didn’t even realize it was still snowing from last night. It was actually nice to see snow in the city for the first time.

Your phone suddenly dings, a text from your landlord?. Oh! Someone had finally accepted your roommate's application for your flat. That’s awesome. Biting your lip, you just type back ‘yes’.

You technically should’ve looked into the document she sent along with the text which was about the roommate. But you just really need someone to split the rent with you so you honestly didn’t care who it was at this point.

“(Y/n)!”

Jumping, startled and surprised, you turn around fast at the call but are suddenly knocked over and in a snowbank. Now wide awake, you moan in discomfort as Wetness seeps into your jacket from the snow and you begin to wiggle at the coldness at your skin.

“W-What the hell?! Get off of me!” You yell out, startled and still unsure who is above you. Was this some creepy stalker? You hoped not. Wiggling more faster now, you try to get out of the snow.

You stop dead in your tracks as you hear a groan above you. Finally able to see the person, you realize it was no other than Shalnark above you. His mouth slightly open and a dark expression on his face.

What had you— oh god. You blush a crimson red. Could this get anymore embarrassing? You hadn’t realized that while you were trying to get away you hadn’t also, unintentionally, rubbed against his crotch.

Apologizing profusely, you somehow now get up and hold out a shaky hand to help him up as well. Shalnark smiled at you. Though it wasn’t like his usual smile it had an unnerving tint to it now that sent a shiver up your spine.

Startled and uneasy you decide to look away at something else. Wow did the wall get a new crack in it? Oh man that sure is interesting. Did Mrs Glain change out the lilacs again? That was nice of her—

“(Y/n)?”

You grow stiff at Shal’s voice and hesitantly meet his gaze. It still made you uneasy. Everything was the same about him yet you can’t help but feel on edge and slightly violated in his presence now. You just couldn’t figure out why.

“Y-yes?”

“I just wanna say thanks for the information you got me! Boss will sure be happy. Hmmmm….I’m not sure how you got these, you must be a really skilled hacker.”

He expressively gestures to the papers in his bag that you printed and wrote on.

“Oh yeah umm no problem.” You nonchalantly answer. Trying to ignore his hacker comment.

“I’m just wondering... how did you get into those websites (y/n)? It sure was hard for me.”

Shalnark asks and secretly shuffles a little closer to you, still an unchanging smile on his face. He was weirdly sneaky about it. Now this was just starting to get creepy. Then you suddenly realize something, did he not realize?

“A-ah I just had to find out the right codes and inputs and stuff you know?”

You start to shuffle back. You didn’t mind being asked questions or someone moving closer. It’s just… you just realized... Blushing you start to move a little faster away.

“Ah-h I really have to get home you-u know? Work just finished and stuff and I have to get rested up for my next shift. You—you know being a good employee and stuff. I’ll see you again sometimes.” Stuttering and tripping over your words you finally walk away from Shalnark. You were just glad you were out of that mess. That was so embarrassing and creepy.

Sighing, you grab your phone from your pocket and turn it on. You scroll through your apps for a little before stopping and selecting “Bokemon Go”. You needed to see if the new bokemon “Baporine” was in the area after all.

“Oh you like Bokemon Go as well. I didn’t take you as such a nerd (y/n)~”

Startled, you let out a ‘eep’ and crane your neck to see that Shalnark was literally right behind you. He literally got as close as he could without touching. It also didn’t help that he still had…

Face red again at the thought you fast walk to the bus stop. Though that didn’t work for Shalnark was on your tail the whole time, constantly asking questions.

“I was just joking (y/n)! I love that game as well.”

“Oh have you caught the new Baporine?”

“Wait, do you also know Nen? I think I see aura around you~.”

“Hahah you totally do. What category are you?”

“Do you—“

Reaching the bus you had finally had enough of his antics. Pulling him down by his collar, you glare at him.

“Why are you following me?” You whispered yelled at him. He looks confused for a second before letting out a teasing smile.

“So we are whispering now? Is this a sec—“ You cut him off.

“Answer my question.”

He opens his mouth to do so but before he can, the thing you couldn’t look at or say is, is finally said out loud. And by a young child at that.

“Mommy. Why wrong with that man’s pants? Why is there a bump in the front—“

The mother doesn’t make it better, of course, and lets out a screech in shock. Quickly shielding the child’s eyes and pulling the child away. Leaving you two alone at the bus stop.

Your face beet red and frozen in embarrassment you look at Shalnark’s face.. He looks down at his *ahem* problem and looks back at you. And he, I shit you not, looks you dead in the eye and says.

“Ah so that’s what’s wrong?” He says. Kind of amazed, yet kind of shrugging it off.

“WHAT THE HELL?!? HOW DID YOU NOT REALIZE IT BEFORE” You screech out. Totally losing your cool.

He pouts at your freak out.

“I just didn’t realize it.”

Rubbing your temples you take a deep breath and look at the most likely mid-twenties man in the eyes.

“How do you not realize you are walking around with a full on erection??”

“Well It just doesn’t usually happens. I usually don’t get excited by a girl easily. Though I do usually like to toy with the smart ones,” He suddenly looks down at your chest. His face blushing a little and a small smile spreading across his face. “It also doesn’t help that you have the perfect pair of—“

You clamp your hand over his mouth before he can finish that sentence. You didn’t want to know what he was thinking. You were honestly tired. Working two back to back shifts wasn’t easy.

“Shalnark. Please just… just go home.” You say exhausted and defeated.

You drop your hand from his mouth and he only looks at you confused.

“Hmm? But I am?”

“Hah?!?” Now angry you grab the man by his shirt. You might actually fulfill your life long dream of strangling a man today, “What the hell is that supposed to mean?!?”

Shalnark smiles; an unsettling one at that and grabs his phone from his pocket. As you look at the red phone your stomach drops to the ground. Oh. That number and conversation means. Oh god.

Shalnark giggles and leans over to your ear. His warm breath against the shell causes a shiver up your spine. Taking a gulp and you hear him whisper two dreaded words.

“Hello roomie~”

You should’ve checked the document.

Bonus:

(On the bus)

“Hey (y/n)~ now that we are roommates you wouldn’t mind if we fuc—“

“Shal. Just take a cold shower”

“Huh?!? You're so mean (y/n)! You’re nothing like the girl that took care of me last night. Oh~ Mr Shalnark~ your so handsome Mr—”

“F***king hypocrite”

“Why did you hit me?! That hurt!”

#hxh #hunter x hunter #phantom troupe #hxh scenarios #scenarios #shalnark #shalnark x reader

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alywats · 4 years

Text

Let’s Talk About Mathematical Gatekeeping: Race, Gender, and Math Anxiety in Mathematics Academia

Today I learned the demographic makeup of the people who will be starting my math graduate program with me in the fall. And It’s Not Very Diverse. Let’s discuss.

There is a program in Budapest, Hungary (that I attended) for American undergraduate students in mathematics that aims to give a leg up to students in their academic careers, and to make them competitive for graduate schools. In the Spring of 2019, the demographic makeup of the group accepted was overwhelmingly white, male students. There were less than 10 women out of 60 or more participants, and again overwhelmingly white. This program is just one instance that I have personally experienced that demonstrates the sizeable gender and race disparities within the mathematical community, and the cause of this likely comes down to the same disparities in mathematics education. Mathematical gatekeeping is the cyclic way that historically oppressed people, like women and people of color, are excluded from mathematics in their early education, higher education, and within the mathematical workplace. This exclusion is unjust, as there is no evidence that any race or gender is genetically geared towards better performance in mathematics, yet this gatekeeping is difficult to counteract because of the widespread implicit biases of mathematics educators, and therefore extreme measures within the mathematics education system must be taken by mathematics teachers of all levels. Mathematical spaces should not be so heavily white and male, but they continue to be. Let’s look at why.

Firstly, we discuss the ways race can impact mathematics education. It is vital to understand mathematics in America as a white institutionalized space, which is to say, a space that has working systems that keep people of color out of the discourse. This stems from the structure of American education and society as a whole, which are also largely white institutionalized spaces. Political and social structures of societies that cater towards white people produce education structures that do the same. A first, and very common instinct for educators may be to take a “colorblind” approach to teaching, that is, educators attempting to teach all students exactly equally, ignoring the racial identities of their students. It has been shown, as Danny Martin explains in a 2009 article about race in mathematics, that this so-called “colorblind” approach does not actually level the playing field for students of color, in actuality, race-neutral education “only perpetuates inequality” by neglecting the needs of marginalized students. Instead, Martin urges educators to self-reflect on their biases, identify mechanisms within the mathematical spaces (like standardized testing) that perpetuate math as a white space, and then take action to help the students affected by these mechanisms. Though, it quickly becomes clear that the call to self-reflection for white educators may be more difficult than proposed: if white educators shy away from discussions and deliberate consideration of race because of their white fragility or discomfort in self-evaluation of racial biases, then changing the field of mathematics from a white institutionalized space will demand more from educators than the self- identification of racially charged systems.

And race is not the only bias that is served in mathematics education, there is also an alarming imbalance in the gender make-up of mathematics students. For instance, women in higher level mathematics programs are scarce, usually outnumbered four to one by their male counterparts. At the elementary school level, female students are more likely to receive lower quality mathematics education, owing to biases placed on them by their teachers. A study found that “teachers tended to overrate male students’ math capability and correspondingly underrate female students’ math capability” even when test scores and other empirical data were the same for male and female students. When sorting students by ability for mathematics instruction, a 1987 article wrote that “teachers are more likely to assign high-ranking boys to the high-ability group than high-ranking girls,” of course putting the girls at a long-term disadvantage. It is important to note that the research cited here is using an assumed gender binary and does not account for biases towards transgender and nonbinary students. The lack of research into biases in mathematics education for transgender students futher illustrates the severity of mathematical gatekeeping to groups who face oppression in society, showing that even now some groups are being ignored or forgotten in the research aimed at helping to create a more eqaulity drivin space.

Now, in addition to biases towards their students, we must note that educators have biases towards their own mathematical abilities. An effect documented by Beth Azar, deemed “math anxiety,” stems from the stress of not being ‘good’ at math. Azar explains that elementary school teachers (who are mostly female) have the highest occurrence of math anxiety within a sample of multiple occupations, and it is likely that this anxiety is rooted in these educator’s own mathematics education which may have been biased or exclusionary. Along with this inherited math anxiety, it can be further said that the teacher’s attitudes in general about mathematics (which again, are largely negative owing to educator’s own biased math education) can heavily impact the student’s attitude towards mathematics, which is a key factor in success, thus the biases of educators towards themselves and their students are working in conjunction to keep certain students excluded from quality mathematics education.

This truly documents the cyclic nature of mathematical gatekeeping, as students grow up and become the educators, they carry with them their attitudes, anxieties, and abilities, which are then transferred to the new student. Biases in educators must be confronted in order to break this cycle, for both gender and race. It is important that teachers end the implicit way students are sorted into ability groups based on a teacher’s subjective perception of them, which is so often tainted by bias. Students also need to see representation of mathematically confident female and racially diverse educators, they need to see mathematics as an inclusive space rather than a white male space. Representation of diverse teachers matters in mathematics education, but only if these educators can also leave behind their own internalized biases.

Gary Huang and his colleagues chronicle how few women and people of color persevere through college level mathematics related degrees. In short, the students who had the opportunity to study higher mathematics in high school were the ones who often persisted through their degree, but as we have discussed previously, the opportunity to study higher mathematics in high school is predominantly given to white male students. Some, but not all, educators have readily recognized their biases towards themselves, their female students, and their students of color, and have begun to work towards a more inclusive mathematics education system which will set these students up for an equal opportunity in the field. Now, the goal must be to put pressure on all mathematics teachers in elementary education as well as higher education to counteract their implicit biases in order to make mathematics a tool all students have access to, in order to end the cycle of mathematical gatekeeping.

#math #mathematics #gatekeeping #mathematical gatekeeping #let me know if u want the articles I referenced #writes #rant #mathblr

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thebadbatch · 3 years

Text

The Bad Batch: Soft Universe

Chapter Five - Cure.

Omega took a small breath in as she rubbed her eyes before she turned and faced her brothers who looked absolutely terrified. She had no idea what had happened, the last thing that she remembered was playing with those beautiful flowers that were now one-hundred percent her favourite flower.

Darker clouds soon moved over her mind as she watched them all ensure she was alive and okay which was a really upsetting thing to see. Did another bounty hunter attempt to take her life from her once again? Hunter's eyes were glazed over and so were Techs who swore he was cursed due to everything always going wrong when he was around.

"Hunter?" She questioned, resulting in the others stopping exactly what they were doing to stare at her once her Kamonion thick accent piped up. "I'm sorry, did another bounty hunter come after me?" At the question alone even Echo couldn't help but tear up. After everything she's been through with anyone and going against her wanting the innocent and small life-form dead, She still apologized because she thought she caused hassle or problems for her brothers. "Did I get any of you hurt?"

"No, no Ad'ika!" Hunter finally spoke after sending silent thanks-filled prayers to their maker. "Nothing like that happened. None of us are hurt - we're okay." He reassured her with a gentle hand upon her shoulder before she tried to sit up only to gently be pushed down again by Echo, a sympathetic gaze upon his face.

"Woah there kid, lay down for a little longer okay?" Omega Pouted a little before complying with his gentle request. Hunter turned his head, pointing at Tech.

"Run a medical scan on her, tell me anything that's out of the ordinary even if it's no cause for concern." Tech nodded, rushing to the side to grab his medical scanner and following through with their command his leader had given him. "Wrecker, can she borrow Lola? And could you grab her blanket too?" Hunter began to fuss even more over her before Crosshair placed a hand on his shoulder too, hoping for the same calming effect it gave Omega.

"But I feel fine!" She beamed up at them, telling the truth all whilst giving Hunter some much needed comfort and reassurance. "I had such a lovely dream too." The med scan beeped leaving Tech to go over all of the information it had given him.

"A dream?" Echo asked, standing beside Hunter to listen to what Omega had to say.

"Yeah!" Her voice was filled with Positivity, she truly didn't remember what had happened to her beside a dream that took priority over her mind. "It was scary at first, but then those glowing orbs came back and they were so pretty! A hooded man was there though wearing a Cloak but he was so kind and asked me about my brothers- you guys!" Wrecker returned, placing Lula in her arms and her favourite blanket over her before standing with the others. "Thank you, Wrecker!"

"What did he say to you, Omega?" Hunter asked, ensuring she was tucked in and comfortable.

"Well I told him how lovely you all are to me and how happy I am now being away from Kamino and living with my true family!" They all silently swore that they could break down into tears. "He said he's so happy to hear that I'm happy now, and he said that you're all Incredible individuals! But then he told me that something big was calling me and I needed to listen and train with the sound to guide me."

"Guide you?" Echo chuckled a bit, "It Sounds Like jedi talk to me." He was kidding, attempting to lighten the atmosphere but then he remembered his previous generals who were force wielders having similar experiences to this. That realisation soon wiped the smile off of his face.

"He told me that it would all become clear soon and to trust myself but then I woke up with you guys." Tech walked over the second that she finished her story,

"She's completely healthy, in fact she's healthier now than before." He moved toward her, gently gesturing to the bacta patch that still remained against her arm. "May I check on your recovery?" She nodded, grateful that the bacta suppressed any pain from the bullet wound. Tech hesitantly but carefully removed the patch, going a little pale as there wasn't a scratch on her arm. "You must have accelerated healing," He was saying that mainly to reassure himself as her medical records from Kamino that they had stolen a while ago clearly stated she hadn't been created with accelerated healing as she was never to leave Kamino." The records made sense but Omega clashed with every little bit of information they had. It was pretty impossible to find out why she was created so they could find her enhanced skill finally but Tech especially at this point was pretty desperate to discover what she had.

"Maybe those plant things healed her or something?" Wrecker questioned, looking toward Tech for an answer.

"Dalalians." He reminded his brother, unable to stop himself from correcting even the smallest of mistakes after shaking his head. "That's impossible, they have no healing properties. The only 'use' they hold, if you'd even consider it as such, is that it tastes like honey."

"The records must be wrong." Hunter spoke, "We need to get new Copies - the most recent data they had before - well, you know." Silence filled their physical realm but their minds were asking tons of questions about the whole scenario.

"AzI would know!" She responded rather proudly, very fond of her best friend. "He has all of my medical records, but he's offline still, remember?" Once they got AZI, tech had never actually seen the specific circuits that he had so he constantly tinkered trying to work himself around it and do as much research as possible but they never really had the time. Omega didn't mind though, her friend was still on board with her other droid and having him there knowing they could wake him one day kept her calm.

"I don't think I can wake him up right now but I may be able to get him to display the medical records we need." She hummed, snuggling into her blankets. Hunter crouched beside where Omega lay cuddling with Lula,

"Do you remember what they were testing you for?" He asked, keeping his tone as calm as possible knowing how sensitive such a subject was.

"But why do we want to find out?" Omega asked, panic residing behind her voice. "I'm fine, I feel fine can't we just leave it? What even happened?" Echo soon Moved over to her, Placing a hand against her shoulder.

" Hey kid,it's alright! We just saw you go a little funny whilst you were having that dream and we think it may be linked with your enhanced skill." Her eyes immoderately softened at this, her heart rate finally calming causing Hunter to sigh of relief.

"It is?" Wrecker asked, oblivious to what Echo actually meant.

"It is." Echo repeated before Smiling back down at his little sister. "Now, can you think back really hard to remember what they were resting you for?" Her eyes sparkled proudly, suppressing any sorrow she felt from the memories back at Kamino.

"No, I remember - but they Said what they were trying didn't work so they'd give me a new one." She paused for a brief moment in thought. "I thought they forgot to give me a new one though, So I was hoping you guys would help me find what they may have given me. I want to be like you guys." Even Crosshair's heart broke at her words before he began to talk.

"What did they Originally test you for? Maybe it worked hence why they never gave you another enhanced skill." All of the others gently agreed before gazing at Omega, waiting to see what her answer was.

"I was to become the first force-sensitive Clone but it hurt me so they had to stop because I got too weak." Mouths were agape as they stared at her. What they witnessed, was that the force? Is that why the Empire suddenly wants her? Because it worked. Tech instantly moved away to search for answers through his datapad against force-sensitive beings.

"The Force?" Hunter repeated, looking toward Echo for answers. "Echo, you're worked with countless jedi before. Could it be possible?" He thought for a while before nodding.

"I think it could be done and the Empire wants to bring the same power to their fleet. They'd be unstoppable." He breathed in before Tech soon interrupted him.

"Omega, what you saw - the person." He stammered, "Were they blue by any chance?" She smiled over at him with a nod. "And they mentioned something guiding you right?" Another nod from her followed once again. "Yeah, she's force sensitive." How didn't they find this out sooner? Probably because it's only just begun to work, whatever they did to her." Silence hung heavily after his sentence, anger lurking in her older brothers as she hugged Lula with a smile - not as bothered right now about her past. Omega was a force-sensitive clone, the first of her kind! And she was absolutely thrilled because maybe now she would feel useful to her brothers, helping them in missions and keeping them safe. Yeah, that's exactly what she wanted to do - but her brothers didn't seem so pleased about that.

"Hey, Ad'Ika." Hunter spoke, whispering to her. "How about you get some rest and we can see your skills tomorrow hm?" His voice was soothing as she yawned, tired out hours ago but continued to push herself awake to be with them a little longer.

"Alright…" She hummed without fuss as he picked her up with her gentle good night's to the others and carried her to her bed, laying her down with a small smile. "Do I need a cure?" She asked sleepily, snuggling down with her trooper doll with that familiar soothing tone of orange filling the smaller room.

"For what, Omega?" He asked, worried a little. "For your abilities?" She hummed a yes, her eyes beginning to shut. "No, Ad'Ika. You don't, you're amazing and incredible and we couldn't be who we are without you okay? These powers of yours are a part of you and we cherish them deeply. We just need to find out a little more, okay?" Unfortunately she had fallen asleep through his words, head gently smooshed against the pillow and blankets gripped in her fists. Softly, he climbed down the smaller ladder and pulled back the curtain so she could rest. The talc with his brothers would be intense and confusing, but he knew they would figure it out - anything out. She didn't need a cure, it's apart of her.

#The bad batch #Starwars #Clone force 99 #The bad batch and omega #Omega #Bad batch

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rametarin · 3 years

Text

Amusing interlude.

So an acquaintence of mine just experienced something I’d like to share with some of you as an educational experience.

This nameless person somewhere introduced a statement: “Which mental illness make you the most violent?”

So my acquaintence copy&pasted them something from ncbi.nlm.nih.gov

The person direct messaged them and said, “Go jack off to some dead deer, you boot licker.”

And I’m like... that’s hilarious. My acquaintence wasn’t really sure what happened here, but I recognized exactly what happened by previous patterns.

Okay so. What happened here was this person was trying to use this technique radical feminists and guerilla socialists would use to try and “start conversations” by the water cooler. Capitalizing on how most people aren’t walking encyclopedias of facts and information they can prove on the spot, they “start the conversation.”

Statements like that have no roots or origins or seeming ulterior motive in anything else, but they absolutely are when in the context of how this type of person uses them. But the ice breaker. “Which mental illnesses do you think make people the most violent?”

If you’d said schizophrenia, or bipolar, or borderline personality disorder, then their next step would’ve been to say, “And why do you think that?”

Do you see what has happened here? Unprovoked, without the other person making any proactive statements for or against anything, by querying and controlling the context of the discussion and the topic, they have forced and coerced the other person to proactively stand for something. They have forced the person to either admit they do not know, which itself will become clay the speaker will mold, or they’ve forced the person to prove their statement that they have voluntarily given and put forwards.

They have forced someone to make a claim and put them on the spot, disguising this provocateurizm as simple water cooler talk.

Radfems would do this shit of bad faith questioning when I was a kid, and next thing you knew you’d said something inflammatory, BECAUSE YOU’D BEEN SET UP TO DO SO by the topic of conversation and the direction, and then depending on how you respond, they try to use you.

If you admit you do not know, their next diatribe will be about how, “people who don’t know assume, and our culture vilifies the mentally ill.” They’re PROBING you. To see if you know, one way or the other. Because if you don’t, they’re going to claim they know.

And as they’ve pre-meditated this topic, they likely have some cherrypicked statistics or an academic and book that states something, one way or another. THEY’RE SO GLAD YOU ASKED.

If you make a declaration from a place of confidence, they’ll “kindly” ask that you prove it. And since this technique relies on the recipient and the group not being well read or career members of this field, capitalizing on how most people don’t know, aren’t in the circles to be informed about it, and are absent any sources to check for spur of the moment flareups of intellectual discussion and debate, most people cannot prove it.

In which case, the disingenuous conversation starter garrotes the person that cannot support their stance, which they will, regardless of whether or not it was made from a place of absolute confidence, treat as if they have. Treat the person and their ignorance like it’s only not malicious because the person, “didn’t know better,” and then talk about how perpetuating falsehoods is endemic of an “ablist society that hates the mentally ill for being different.”

That’s when they declare the person to be a victim of society demonizing the mentally ill, but not having any evidence to support the common consensus.

The person they just chose to make an effigy of societal wrongthink can then flounder and doubledown without proof and then be mocked and derided and patronized for “not knowing what they’re talking about, by their own admission. Do you HAVE any PROOF!? No? Then shut up.” while leftist-funny-man “laugh now” facing the peers and audience, just to let them know if they wrong-think in public the mocking mob will make them lose social standing, too.

By just asking loaded, probing questions that beg an answer, they give the illusion of empirically minded, scientific and scholarly. When the truth is they only know enough to use as a weapon in a game of social clout and perception, starting conversations by shitting all over someone else and making it look like a, “teachable moment.” By pausing to speak in the abstract, they basically get a free pass to call you a bigot by actions you’ve been tricked into taking and then spun to endorse.

They deliberately find groups of people that may not know the particulars of this topic specifically to have this “conversation.” Feigning being feely compassionate and how stereotypes are harmful. Then throwing out, “Actually, the mentally ill are much less violent than sane people! These stigmas against the mentally ill are largely just vilification and heroification of mentally well people.” As if a person that thinks they see ghosts and shadowmen is the same as a person that keeps picking fights with strangers compulsively.

When, no, statistically, those who tend to be insanely violent and instigate violence with strangers, tend to be insane in some form or fashion. Clinically diagnosed, or not.

But you see, this amazing interaction that capitalizes on peoples usual inability to breach the gap beyond their own station. With the help of a google search and resources from professionals and institutions with the empirical medical and scientific data to speak for them, this acquaintence of mine gave the disingenuous speaker nothing and no one to rail against. They were not given an individual’s subjective opinion with which to then accuse them of personal emotional and enlightenment failings. They were not given, “I don’t know,” and then the person that claims to be informed tries to lead them around with cherrypicked “facts” or subjective opinions or charitable interpretations that basically amount to, “my ideology is right and you wouldn’t know one way or another.”

No. All that was side stepped by removing the acquiantance from the equation. This Mr. Magoo of a person I know let them play chess with a robot.

So rather than continue down that line of conversation, this asshurt loser that now had nothing to work with basically called my acquaintence a redneck fascist and ran away, for seemingly no god damned reason.

Usually what happens when you do this, if you can play dumb for them until they feel confident enough that they might trust what you say as the truth on a subject you allegedly know nothing about, they count on there not being anybody coincidentally around that can disagree with prove them wrong. So they’ll take what is definitively said for granted and not question it. Sure, whatever, “The mentally ill are less likely than sane people to be violent.”

But if you reveal your powerlevel and reveal yourself to be an expert, especially in front of a group of people they were playing to, to sow doubt, and you undress their statements, and can then cite the exact books, chapters and lines as proof and may even have those definitive sources on you somehow, they look bad. Good ones try to suss out what the audience knows before pulling this shit stunt. Bad ones... heh.

If you then undress them publicly enough and force them to walk back their statements, they eventually resort to the tired, classic, “I was just twying to have a convuhsayshun about da mentawy iww.. uwu.” Pouting bottom lip and big dewey rose tinted lenses eyes.

Or they’ll just simply start walking away. Either trying to appear casual about it or stomping off outraged at you (generally the latter is socially acceptable, if female.) And if you try to pursue them to keep them in the discussion, they’ll SCREAM and make the immediate discussion the priority of you following them.

But. Really. The miraculous thing is how cell phones and ease of access to these sources have passively innoculated so many to this bad faith technique. It’s truly amazing. The contrast is like living in a world with syphilis and living in a world where it can be cured..

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