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bakugoushotwife · 11 months

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kinktober day twenty-eight: uniform kink

>>> all the hating bitches to the back i literally do not want to hear it!!! ttyl xoxo this is for more of my depraved self-ship needs

>>> starring: satoru gojo x curvy!f!reader >>> cw: established relationship, clothed sex, reader and gojo have three kids, breeding/pregnancy kink, uniform kink obviously i swear they tie in bear w me, spankings, doggy >>> wc: 3.6k >>> event masterlist:

it started out innocently enough. well, that’s a lie. it was not innocent, ever—though it wasn’t weird!! you guys are the same age, married for years–with children! it’s only weird when there’s massive age gaps, right? either way, he feels a daunting sense of guilt mixed with devious amounts of excitement shiver down his spine as you step around the corner.

the two of you have been pilfering through boxes all day, trying to clear out the bonus room now that the girls were old enough to have their own rooms. they were visiting uncle megumi while their parents rearranged the house to surprise them, but it seems you’ve gotten a little side-tracked walking down memory lane. the first box was full of pictures from school, some of your earliest moments with satoru memorialized forever in the stills. it does make you a little emotional to think about how far the two of you have come, the years spent together and the things accomplished side by side. these pictures tell your story; the first few days of school where you and satoru—then spitefully called gojo-kun—stood at opposite ends of the frame to be as separated as possible. satoru gives ieiri bunny ears and you’re hugging suguru’s arm–but the two of you are looking at each other. it’s clear to you now that you were trying to make each other jealous, but at the time you would have sworn to the heavens above that you couldn’t stand the man.

now satoru always had a soft spot for you, torturing you was all just fun and games to him—until you started dating a guy from the kyoto school. this, of course, was memorialized in pictures too. there teenage you stood, all dressed up for winter formal, grinning ear to ear as you pose for the camera shoko was operating. you can remember this like it was yesterday, standing in your dorm after exchanging your uniform skirt for an icy blue cocktail dress—you were more nervous for a certain someone to see you than you were to meet up with your date. you knew what you were doing when you picked the dress out, and its effect was clearly captured with satoru’s bulging eyes, red face, and gaping mouth in the background. you pass that one to your husband after taking a few good chuckles at it, remembering shoko turning around her little canon camera to show you the picture and how good you felt after seeing gojo-kun’s reaction.

he waves the picture in his hands, whistling in the same way he did as soon as that camera fell to shoko’s side. he looks at the picture with fondness, remembering it as the moment he decided to get serious about you. the warmth in his cheeks and jealousy squeezing his heart as your date came to pick you up had him reeling to come up with a way to stop you from going.

“he gonna make you go halfsies on dinner?” he calls after you, and embarrassment stung your cheeks. your date, just as petrified of gojo as he should be, shakes his head no.

“n–no, we’re going on full stomachs.” he replies, clutching a pathetic bouquet in his hands. gojo laughs. that bouquet was three dollars maximum, and you were a $30 arrangement at the least. and too cheap to take you on a real date? he shouldn’t be surprised, but he can’t help but press on at the horror on your face and the desperation in his gut.

“ah, daddy didn’t give you any money? i’ll pay you enough to get yourself a real nice dinner if you leave the lady with me.” he sings, holding out a few yen notes for him. you’re mortified, sure this was another one of his stunts to embarrass you— but your date was easily bought.

“but–”

“b-but–” gojo rolled his eyes in annoyance, slapping the money in his hand. “i recommend the sushi place on the corner.” he turns, beaming at you, slipping his arm through yours when the kyoto boy drops— without skipping a beat. “c’mon. i believe there’s a dance tonight?” he pulls his sunglasses down his nose a little bit to let you see the mischief and excitement swirling in his eyes.

you bite the inside of your cheek. you want to punch him in the arm–so you do–and then you nod. it sure took him long enough. “you better make this worth it, gojo-kun.”

he grins. “call me satoru and i’ll make it all worth it, pretty lady.” his voice is a low rumble in his chest instead of his usual light tone. it makes your heart skip a beat and that warmth burn on your cheeks again.

you never call him gojo-kun again. the rest is history–a viewable version with the many grainy phone selfies of dates and onslaught of school photographs and even an old camcorder with some footage of you practicing your technique on him made it to this spare room. you’re amazed at how nostalgic it all feels, pulling out a picture of you and satoru on graduation day. he’s smiling and pressing a kiss to your cheek—making the switch to a blindfold instead of his circular specs. his hair stands due to the fabric, but you liked the new look; especially when he pulled the blindfold up to wink at you and let you see his sunshine. he’s slumped over you, arms wrapped around your chest. you’re grinning, leaning back against him with your hands tucked into his hold on you. it’s a sweet picture—but you’re focused on the next few. you’re in the same position, but he sneaks his hand to the dip of your waist, then your hip, finally ending with a picture of you blushing from the invisible hand grabbing a handful of your ass. you pass those to satoru too, watching his expression as he flips through them, admiring the youth on your faces.

“god you made that uniform so sexy.” he snorts, eyes dancing over the way the black fabric clung to you. at the time, he wondered if you’d ordered it that tight just to taunt him, but now he knew there was no amount of clothes that could’ve hidden that bangin’ bod. he shakes his head as he remembers just how horny he had been–not that much has changed even after three kids and over fifteen years together. “had so many fantasies of you in that thing.”

you arch a brow, “really now?” you ask, clearly intrigued. you had seen the familiar bundle of fabric folded at the bottom of the box. “what kind of fantasies?” you purr, making the hairs on the back of neck stand up, the effects you had fifteen years ago just as efficacious now.

how honest could he even be with that answer? yes, back then—even as your equal, he envisioned punishing you as your sensei in that little skirt—oh the ways he would have defiled you in yaga’s classroom if you had let him. he’d wondered if you would lean into the slutty schoolgirl act, if you would call him sensei instead of daddy. or would you think that was too much given his current occupation. not like it was the uniform that he liked, just the way you looked in it—and the way it felt to be young and obsessed with you. his obsession has never wavered, its just had to become more subdued as you raise your children —wanting to be a good example and all, he’s nothing but a loving and proper man in front of them. buuuuut. they were with megumi for a few more hours. “what other kinda fantasies about schoolgirls are there, gorgeous?”

“you perv! gives gojo-sensei a whole new meaning.” you tease him, watching in sheer enjoyment as his cheeks darken a few shades and he crinkles his nose at you in embarrassment.

“only if you say it like that.” he mumbles in his defense. great, now you think he’s a sicko. he turns back to his box of collectibles, pilfering through what he actually cared to keep now—even though he hasn’t seen any of it since your oldest was born. it’s mostly to hide his shame as he continues to think about you in that little getup with that matured body of yours. he wonders if the material would stretch to accommodate your wider hips and fatter ass. he wonders if the stretchmarks you’ve developed from carrying his children would peek over the waistband of the skirt that’s sure to ride up a little due to your widened thighs. he’s so immersed in the thought of you that he doesn’t hear you slip around the corner to tug on the old outfit.

it certainly doesn’t fit the same, but it fits. there’s not a shred of modesty to be found– the once form fitting turtleneck top now a cropped version due to the strain from your chest. you hadn’t realized just how much your body had changed beside the obvious pounds on the scale and the marks on your skin—but your mid-thigh length skirt was now a navy mini, showing the dimples of your thighs and the bottom of your ass cheeks. you were no longer the girl from those pictures, but instead a woman who bears the beautiful changes of giving three gorgeous gojo’s life. your husband has always been a massive fan of what he calls “enhancements” to his favorite areas—loving the fluffy stomach for him to rub and the hips that fill his hands. he traces your stretch marks to soothe his racing mind at night, snuggling into your heavy chest for warmth and ultimate comfort in his free time. you know he’s only fallen deeper in love with you and it makes your heart warm with appreciation now that the differences between the young you and the current have been made so clear. you almost give up on the idea altogether, but your husband’s voice calls out for you, so you step around the corner before you can doubt yourself any more.

he was giving you the sweetest little face—holding up your youngest’s hospital baby blanket with only fondness in his eyes. that is until it registers, as his eyes follow your bulging chest struggling against the fabric, the sides of your hips spilling over the top of the skirt—barely covering anything at all. his face turns red and the blanket falls from his hands, back into the box from whence it came. oh the shame he feels as his cock processes this shock too—making him hiss at the sudden tightness in his pants, biting his lip as he looks at you. it worked on you then and you make it your bitch now, absolutely stunning him beyond words. and he’s never short on things to say. you look even better than anything his imagination drummed up for him. fuck, you are so sexy—you only get better with age.

the way he looks at you makes you feel like he’s falling in love all over again—eyes bouncing around your frame like he can’t make up his mind to settle on one area. your face burns under his amorous stare, but you fold your hands behind your back and sway to let him admire you. it makes your whole body warm and your cunt clench around nothing the longer he sits and stares–biting his lip, clearly in no hurry to end this moment. as beautiful as he makes you feel, you just can’t help but tease him slightly. you know he’ll pay it back in kind. “do you like it, gojo-sensei?”

“oh aijichan, can’t you tell?” he hums, eyes falling to his clear erection before they flicker back to you—overcast and darker than usual. he usually playfully calls you his lover, but the addition of the suffix lets you know how thoroughly he’s enjoying your little act. he pats his thigh, spreading his legs even wider across the luxurious office chair. you giggle a little bit, excitement flooding your veins as you walk over to meet him. how you swing your hips and flutter your lashes is not lost on him, in fact he feels the painful buildup pressing against your thigh as you sit sideways on his, looping an arm across his shoulders. “you were such a good little girl in school. i always wondered what it would be like to treat you like a bad one.” he offers, his voice a permanent purr when it comes to the naughty things he presses to your ear.

it sends a shudder down your spine, and you can’t help but press your chest closer to him in an automatic response. he hooks his hand around your waist, feeling the dip of your waist. he doesn’t miss the reaction—and he loves that you like it. his hand squeezes the fat on your hips, helping you off his lap before standing to full height to tower above you.

“then bend it over, little lady.” he suggests with a wiggle of his brow, pushing the office chair closer to you with his signature smugness. his eyes sparkle with an erratic excitement, gripping the back of the chair with a tight hold—leaving his impressions in the fabric. you giggle and lean over the chair as instructed. a giddiness floods your veins while he walks circles around you, humming approvingly. “i think ten should teach you your lesson, hm?”

you wiggle your ass preemptively and nod just to be safe. “yes sir, i think that’ll fix everything.” you purr, feeling one harsh spank to your cheek. it sends a jolt of excitement pulsating to your core, and you know that the results will be evident once he moves your skirt. the arms of the chair dig into your stomach—but it just adds to the sensation as he layers a few intense slaps to your ass.

“well?” he talks over your loud squeals and happy giggles. “aren’t you going to say thank you?” he hums, shoving your skirt up to your waist to expose the growing redness and incriminating wetness all over your bottom half. he chuckles fondly—you surely do impress. he hits you once more.

“yes–mmf-” you moan out at the stinging sensation. it’s so much more pleasurable on your bare skin, you can’t help but arch back into him, giving him such a beautiful view of your glistening hole and handprint-branded ass. he slaps it again, enjoying the recoil. “thank you sensei, feels so good~”

he kneads the irritated flesh a little in between the spanks–he’s not heartless, after all. you’re his wife, no amount of roleplay could make him forget the love that swells in his heart for you; especially with that beautiful ass of yours. “that’s seven—can you take your last three, naughty little thing?”

“mhm, i can take it.” you assure him, finding it wholesome and sexy that he still checks on you even if the dirty talk never skips a beat. from the way you wiggle your bruising ass for him, he knows you’re loving this. he cups his hand under your pussy just to check even though your shiny thighs tell him all he needs to know. he’s delighted when your essence coats his hand anyway, giggling with schoolgirl excitement. hey, that’s your part—

“seems the punishment’s only making you badder.” he hums in approval, hurrying his last few spanks up in order to finally have you. he makes them count though, loud and stinging worse than a wasp—though you can’t recall the last time a bee sting made you feel that good. he can’t remember the last time you two had the house to yourselves, and he planned to put that all of that alone time to good use. you scream out and shudder at the delicious agony, tossing a look over your shoulder to see the sheer pleasure on his face–tufts of hair hanging over his vivid eyes. “seems we’ll just have to move onto something that suits you, aijichan.”

you clamp down reflexively at his statement, nodding to your undetermined punishment, if such a thing existed under your husband’s treatment. he frees his erection with a little grunt of relief, sliding it through your sloppy lips instantly. he sighs at the feeling—but you whine at the lack of relief. the fire in your gut was burning so hot—you couldn’t take any more of the waiting.

“aw, what is it, little girl?” he mockingly pouts with you. “so needy for your sensei you could cry?” he arches a brow–sheathing his impressive length into the hilt without any more wasted time. he closes his eyes at the feeling of you, just as tight and warm as the first time he had you. it’s wild to him how three kids haven't changed how amazing it is to have you wrapped around him.

you do cry out at how perfect he fits inside—curving into every gummy spot that needs him with hardly any effort. the sound you make is like music to his ears. you haven’t been able to be this loud since ieiri took the kids to the beach for a weekend four and a half years ago—and that’s how your youngest happened. not to say you haven’t been intimate since, just more…cautious and certainly more quiet. but that does give him an idea.

he starts to move, grabbing a decent handful of your hair to make a handle out of, pulling you up into a pretty arch. “got one more in you, princess?” he coos, leaning over your body to give you short but powerful thrusts. you can tell from his tone and your regular nickname that playtime was over—he was too consumed by the feeling of you coupled with the undying love you bring out of him to keep up the pet names, but he could succumb to the flash of memories flooding his brain. falling in love with you, making you his for the first time which was also the day he decided he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you. he can see the day you played strip uno—which was something he made up just to be cheesy. he remembers your wedding day, you looked so beautiful and were already a few weeks pregnant with your first baby together–your son. god, the memories of you swollen and whiny—

“i—are you serious?” you giggle, a little out of breath from the rigorous way he rocks into you, keeping your asscheeks separated so he didn’t have any resistance. you knew what he was asking, and you know your heart flutters at the idea of having another one despite agreeing to stop after the ones you have. “i thought three was all you could handle?”

“i changed my mind. wanna see you big again. i miss it—’nd i can handle anything.” he says in between the sound of his balls hitting your ass. you can hear the pout in his voice, “you don’t want one?”

“didn’t say that.” you struggle to form responses, knuckles turning white as you grip the desk in front of you. “just wanted—to be sure—you’re sure!” you squeal with every bruising thwap to your cervix, eyes scrunched shut. you’re almost so gone you might just agree to anything, but the idea of one more pregnancy, one more addition to the family, one more round of being endlessly spoiled as you wait for another gorgeous baby to arrive—it doesn’t sound so bad. it sounds perfect actually, and his words only egg you on. you clench around him in spasms, nodding. “gimme–”

he chuckles wildly in pride. he would say he loves bully-fucking you into getting his way, but he heard you on the phone with your girlfriend the other day. you were missing that feeling of a new baby as much as he was—and he’s here to please. he moves your hips back to meet his, ass bouncing at the force. your squeals slip into screams and he’s fucking you as hard as he can in order to get more of it: of the sounds, the feeling of your womb keeping him from going any further, the way your pussy flutters around him to tell him you’re so close to cumming—everything was sending him reeling.

“cum for me first—then’ll give you everything you want, baby.” he encourages, giving you a cocky, “yeahhhh that’s my girl.” when he feels you coat around him—gasping out moans as your legs wiggle and jump. it’s not long after that that he’s gripping your hair even harder, balls drawing up close to him just to spurt his seed as deep as it will go—hoping that his sperm is still just as successful as it’s been known to be. he helps shove it deeper with a few more rolls of his hips, to which you shiver and whine due to oversensitivity.

he pats your ass affectionately, leaning over you again to kiss your cheek as you both sit in the moment and try to catch your breath. he lets your hair fall from his fingers and gently brushes it out of your face, grinning his usual giddy grin. “you’re even sexier now, you know? feel like it’s every day, but even teen satoru would—”

“allllllright thank you, honey, that’s sweet.” you chuckle, shaking your head as he pulls out. he scoops you over his shoulder and shakes his head.

“whaaaaat–you’re a fucking milf–” he slaps your ass playfully as he sashays toward your room with you. “that i still have–mmm forty-five more minutes give or take to knock up again.” he guesstimates, tossing you on the mattress and crawling over you—determined as ever.

#kylee's kinktober event #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #kyleewritesjjk #jjk x reader #jjk smut #gojo x reader #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo #gojo smut #gojou satoru x reader #gojo satoru #jjk gojo #jujutsu gojo #gojo saturo #saturo gojo

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drafthorsemath · 5 months

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A/N: I still want Tech to be alive so I’m making it happen and all working within the scope of canon. Here we have old man Tech and Phee.

Warnings: disabled Tech, talk of his fall and the aftermath, discussion of broken bones and almost bleeding out

Word Count: 1.534k

There was a lot of hustle around the rebel base. Several pilots were headed out, but Tech was more concerned with who was coming in. Omega had comm’d to say she left Pabu and was on her way. Tech sighed. Just as she was coming he would be going. More than that, while he and Phee stopped by so they could use their skills to fix up an old ship for a new crew, Omega would be out in the thick of it and he was worried for her. He knew they were all worried about her, but just as he respected Echo’s choice and Crosshair’s choice in years past, he respected hers as well. She was as ready to be a rebel pilot as ever, very much in part to the lessons he gave her back on Pabu.

“Hey Brown Eyes,” Phee said with a hand on his shoulder. “Ready to go?”

“Nearly,” he replied, smiling as she ran her hand through his graying and still thinning hair.

He reached for his spanner on the side of his hoverchair and continued to work on the power booster in front of him. He flinched just slightly as he made some adjustments. The arthritis wasn’t making it any easier. Still, he was pleased that while there he and Phee showed some new recruits as many skills as they could.

He put his tools back in place along the side of the humming hoverchair and took a breath. Phee smiled down at him. He picked up her hand and kissed the back of it. She was as lovely as ever. Gray streaks in her hair and small wrinkles forming on her face, but no amount of time dulled her spirit. He could never forget the day he finally made it back to Pabu and the relief he felt to see her and his family. Echo was off with Rex, but he was assured he was safe. Omega and Crosshair were home and Wrecker and Hunter had started easing into island life.

“Better late than dead?” he asked the first time he saw Phee after stumbling off a ship.

She threw her arms around him with tears in her eyes and despite the pain he was still in, he embraced her warmth.

“So much better late than dead, Brown Eyes.”

His body had been through so much. Bones had taken months to mend and he knew that some of them hadn’t healed properly. He went through the painful process of a doctor rebreaking and resetting them. Phee sat with him through every procedure and he knew for sure that he wanted her in his life for however long it was. He woke up in agony after the worst of it, his lower back and legs in braces. She sat in a chair and rested her head on the bed near him. He softly smiled and put a hand on hers.

During his recovery they started running low on med patches. She flew into imperial territory just to get more for him and to restock the supply on the island. It was during that time he was able to catch up with Crosshair. Both men were relieved to see each other and it didn’t take long for them to find their way into a comfortable mix of conversation and shared silence.

“How did you do it?” Crosshair asked. “Survive?”

“I thought that was probably going to be the end of me,” Tech admitted. “But I was able to change the angle of my fall and thankfully I hit the edge of a body of water and softer ground. The impact probably would have killed me otherwise.”

He went on to explain that all he could remember was trying to take his helmet off because his comms had died and his helmet cracked. Somewhere along the way he lost his goggles and slowly realized a piece of broken armor had pierced his abdomen. He kept it in place to reduce the risk of bleeding out as he stumbled along, but the terrain quickly became the familiar stone they saw poke above the mist. All he remembered was passing out and waking up briefly on a ship. When he got to this part of the story, he recalled Phee warning him not to run off with any pirates. Of course it was the pirates who saved him. Granted, they thought they could get some money selling his armor and possessions and were unable to get the elaborate set up off his body with his chest plate twisted as it was, so they just took all of him. One of the pirates couldn’t stand to watch him bleed out and so got him some minimal medical treatment that ended up being just enough to save his life. He spent months trying to get back to Pabu and contact his brothers, but the Empire was everywhere at this point and he had to focus on not getting caught since he couldn’t very well run from them. His best bet was to be friendly with the pirates and help them in an attempt to help himself. He knew the coordinates to some useful planets and knew how to fix just about any broken thing put in front of him. He essentially hitched a ride around the galaxy while his body tried to mend.

Tech looked at his brother with a bit of a grimace.

“I decided if they want to use me for my skills then fine. It kept me alive and I used them as transport in return. Eventually we made it close enough that I knew I could probably get here without a major medical event. I took a small ship, left while they were out drinking, and finally made it to Pabu. You know the rest.”

Crosshair put his hand on Tech’s shoulder just as his brother had done with him countless times.

“We survived and we’re here now,” Crosshair said. “That’s all that matters now.”

It took weeks for Tech’s body to heal the rest of the way, but this time he had hope and real help. Even on days when he could barely move, Phee and his brothers helped him get up and down, made sure he had something to eat, made sure he had something else to keep him occupied, and helped him in and out of the refresher. Once he was ready, Tech accompanied her on trips to recover artifacts. Phee was extra careful, knowing that his soldiering days were very well behind him and never wanting him put in too much danger. Still, he had a few tricks up his sleeve and was very creative when it came to making technology work for him even when his body struggled. More than that, he simply wanted to be with Phee any way he could.

Unfortunately as time went on, his old injuries made it difficult to walk very far. He crafted his own hoverchair, but could still go from the chair into bed or another seat. He still walked short distances, but the chair supported him for the most part. He was not-so-secretly fond of asking Phee to sit in his lap and taking her for “a stroll” around the island.

When Echo got word that the rebellion needed help rebuilding a ship, Tech’s face lit up. There was no stopping him. He and Phee would be back to Pabu after this one last job. Just one more ship to rebuild and then he could rest. Of course Phee knew better and shook her head. As much as his body was giving out on him, his head would never rest and it was one of the things she loved most about him. He always kept his mind occupied, exceptional as always.

They finished loading some items onto their ship, but stayed to greet Omega when she landed. He embraced his sister before grilling her on piloting procedures only to be met with a familiar pair of rolled eyes and an affectionate smile. Omega invited them up to see the upgrades she made to her ship. Tech greeted Gonky and was satisfied as he looked around. They said their goodbyes and Omega promised to come back and visit when she could.

“I still don’t know why she insists on keeping my old goggles with her,” Tech said as he and Phee boarded their ship.

“Because it reminds her of you,” she replied.

“Not one of our fondest memories,” he said, gazing up into his beloved’s eyes with a sad smile.

“No, but it’s all we had to hold on to for months as far as physical items,” Phee countered. “You know Omega. She brought Lula with her. She likes having those things to hold on to.”

“I know,” he said. “You’re right.”

Tech lifted himself from the hoverchair and gingerly moved to the co-pilot seat. Phee was right there ready to lend a hand, but he still had enough strength to move himself. She parked his hoverchair right behind them and pressed a kiss to his forehead before sitting in the pilot seat and punching in the familiar coordinates to Pabu. It was time to go home.

#tbb #tbb fanfiction #tech lives #the bad batch fanfiction #tbb spoilers #the bad batch spoilers #tech #tbb tech #tbb phee #phee genoa #techphee #crosshair #tbb crosshair #omega #tbb omega #phee

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lemotmo · 2 months

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I think parts of that fandom are kind of in a tailspin of reality at the moment. Her ask box is still closed but this is OUCH

My friend received an ask telling him that he can't hold that deleted clip against Tommy because it's not technically canon since it was deleted. In the same ask they told him he had to give Tommy credit for letting Buck set the pace. Sweetie, you can't pick and choose what parts of a deleted clip you can claim are canon and what parts you can ignore. That's not how it works. The part of that clip that is absolutely canon is the repeated pattern, in non deleted scenes, of blatant dismissal on Tommy's part regarding any type of conversational depth when it comes to the topic of Buck and their relationship. I don't need a deleted clip to prove that's what's happening.

A couple of things are fairly obvious here. The traffic on that post is not what it would have been even 3 weeks ago. That's the first thing. Yes the numbers were decent but not great and certainly not impressive. They are representative of a small fandom, which is what you are. The second thing is they didn't trend on Twitter or Tumblr following the post, something that definitely would have happened a few weeks ago, and a barometer his fans constantly like to use as 'proof' of popularity. So something has shifted/happened. It could be that all the people screaming that they had been blocked by the official show account were being honest and the account moderators figured out their spamming game. Something that was always going to happen eventually given the kind of things they were openly admitting they were saying and sending. The Buddie fandom figured it out weeks ago and quickly started making up the commenting ground on the posts, they also, wisely, stopped engaging with the Buck/Tommy comments on those same posts. So it was only a matter of time before they became drowned out anyway. Meaning the numbers were always artificially inflated and once they weeded out the duplicate accounts the numbers naturally decreased. Or the more likely scenario, the hype faded. Something that was also always going to happen.

Anytime a show has 2 men kissing it's going to be talked about. People will watch it. Get excited over it. Want more of it. But if the show doesn't provide content of some kind, the excitement from the wider group at large, dwindles. My ask box, along with my friend groups ask boxes, pretty much confirm that the die hard shippers don't really care about the couple. They ship Lou. Buck and Oliver are just the character/actor Lou is paired with. Look at their behavior towards Oliver. He didn't engage with them, he doesn't promote the pair, and he doesn't follow Lou, so they openly turned against him. That was never going to be sustainable from a large numbers perspective. The audience cares about Buck not Tommy. It was never a smart strategy. Making it almost exclusively about Lou was never going to end well. The frantic posting following the release of the clip trying to explain why it was actually a good thing that Tommy doesn't care what the 118 thinks of him, when anyone with just a passing knowledge of the show knows it's actually a very bad sign, tells me all I need to know. You're aware of the reality of what the show, THUS FAR, is doing. Only it doesn't match the content you paid $200 to hear, my apologies $169 to hear, so you feel cheated. That's not Oliver's fault. That's not the show's fault. And it's why I'm more certain each day that Tim put a stop to it. Those videos created an unmitigated disaster for everyone not named Lou.

I also think some people genuinely don't understand the size difference between the two fandoms. The Buddie fandom makes up a significant number of their audience as a whole. Their fans are not all on Tumblr and Twitter. They have general audience fans. That is not an exaggeration. And it's something the show is more than aware of. Do not try to pretend the show doesn't know that. The general audience/passive fans, like them as a unit. It's just a fact. And never, until now, has a group tried so hard to pretend they aren't an audience favorite. They are. I also think there's quite a few fans like me. I don't classify myself as a shipper. I want the best story for the characters I love, Buck and Eddie. I like Tommy for the larger Buck and Eddie story I think they're using his character to set up. Once it's been set, I don't need or care to have Tommy stick around. Once the newness of the Buck/Tommy pair settled lots of casual shippers were always going to make their way back to the Buddie side. It's the side with all the context. It's also the side the actor/character the show cares about is on. And I promise you Oliver gets a say. Ryan gets a say. Lou doesn't get a say. Paid for headcanons don't get a say.

Ooooof, well--

Nothing to add to this one I think, so I'll wisely stay quiet. Thank you anonymous OP for being so based in reality. :)

Thank you for sending this to me Nonny. It's appreciated, as always.

Remember, no hate in comments or reblogs. Let's keep it civil and respectful. Thank you.

If you are interested in more of the anonymous OP’s posts, you can find all of their posts so far under the tag: anonymous blog I love.

#anonymous blog I love #buddie #eddie diaz #evan buckley #season 8 speculation #buddie speculation #insight into 911 fandom & season 7 and 8 #911 abc #nonnies galore #again I am tagging this buddie because I too believe that T is set up as plot device for Buddie

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ct-cactus · 2 months

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Demon Slayer AU where everything is the same except Yoriichi is a ghost.

He’s corporal/people can see him, he can change his appearance from when he was a kid to when he was old.

He follows Tanjiro around. They met sometime before the Hashira Training Arc for sure, but how early depends on what the writer decides. Has he been there since pre-canon? Or did he show up after the Entertainment District Arc (would honestly make most sense since Tanjiro didn’t know about Sun Breathing until after Mugen Train, but again this is an AU).

He meets Muichiro, and after it clicks that he’s Michikatsu’s descendant Yoriichi follows him around too, eager to be close with the family he could never have.

Depending on when they met, Yoriichi could help Muichiro recover is missing memories earlier than in canon.

Other things about/to include in the AU:

Kamaboko Squad centric (Tanjiro, Nezuko, Inosuke, Zenitsu, Kanao, Genya, AND Aoi and Senjuro)

each member gets a one-on-one interaction with him at some point, which will add to their own personal character growth

Whether or not Yoriichi can physically interact with others is up to the writer

making him able to fight demons seems kinda OP, so unless the writer can find a way to make it make sense about how he can maybe don’t do that

maybe he can exude enough strength to stun demons, but not fully kill them

can he pick things up, or do they just pass through him?

He helps train Tanjiro, making him more proficient in Sun Breathing

this can give Tanjiro more time to hone is Water Breathing. It always irked me that Tanjiro didn’t practice Water Breathing as much when he discovered Sun Breathing (don’t quote me on that, I get my info from TikToks and reaction videos. But why learn two breathing styles and not increase your skill in both?)

this can allow a Giyuu training session in the Hashira Training Arc that we didn’t get to see

Expanding on Yoriichi changing his age: I feel like the older he presents himself, the more power he would have. So when he’s fighting, he’s somewhere between his 20s and 80s. However, because this takes up a lot of energy, when he’s not fighting he’s typically in the form of himself as a child or in his teens

whether or not his mentality/maturity is affected when he’s at different ages is up to the writer so long as it’s not portrayed in an erotic/kinky way

Yoriichi can give tips to the Hashiras that those in the Sengoku Era used (information always has the potential to be forgotten, so maybe there were some tricks that were forgotten about?)

can provide more information about Muzan and his weaknesses, since he was the only swordsman who came close to killing the Demon King

Interactions with Lady Tamayo and Yushiro!

Fluffy moments! Slice of Life, Found Family, all the tropes! Let him be the father to the Kamaboko Squad that they never had/lost (let him have the chance to be the father he never got to be)

Lots of interactions with Genya (is my favoritism showing?)

bonding over being the younger brother

bonding over their endless love for their older brothers

bonding over their older brothers who do so much to hurt them, but they just can’t stop admiring them

Let Yoriichi give Sanemi a talking to

yes, I understand why Sanemi acted towards Genya the way he did. He wanted to protect him, keep him out of danger. However. Good intentions DO NOT give you a free pass on bad actions.

the way that Sanemi treated Genya was cruel and frankly unacceptable; he could’ve gone about it in a much more mature manner

Interactions with Giyuu and Yoriichi!!

mostly bc Giyuu is my fav Hashira, but I notice a lot of similarities between them

Maybe Yoriichi can provide information about Kokushibo/Uppermoon 1?

Yoriichi has the flute that Michikatsu gave him with him in his ghost form

Additional weaknesses up to the writer (this goes for powers too)

Kamaboko Squad showing Yoriichi present-day things

A mix of fluff, angst, etc.

rating is up to the author

ANY SHIP is welcome so long as it is:

legal

not a pro-ship

treated respectfully/with some level of understanding

^^continuing from this, it doesn’t matter if you include SaneKane, SaneGiyuu, ShinoGiyuu, ShinoMitsu, SaneMitsu, ObaGiyuu, UzuRen, or any other pairing, polyamorous included. It doesn’t matter if there’s no ships at all. Everyone has there own preferences, and it’s up to both the reader and the writer to be respectful about it

This is all I’ve come up with for now! I’ll most likely come back and add more at some point, but if you have any ideas or suggestions let me know too!

If you end up using this idea, credit me with my Tumblr, and if you want to as well my AO3 which can be found in my profile :)

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hugmekenobi · 5 months

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S3: The Bad Batch (3)

Chapter Three: Shadows of Tantiss

Gif by @theworstbatch

Hunter x femaleJedi!reader

Series Summary: Ever since Eriadu, Clone Force 99 had been a fractured squad. Months have passed but you're finally back with the Batch but Omega is still out there and you won't stop until you find her again.

Chapter Summary: Time is against Omega and Crosshair as they finally make the move to escape

Masterlist for S1 and S2

<Previous Chapter

Genre: Friends (idiots) to Lovers (we're in the lovers stage now)

Chapter Warnings: Canon-typical violence, mentions of food and the importance of self-care, the Force and meditation works how I say it can, reader is a bit more forceful in making Hunter look after himself lol, Hemlock and Palpatine, threatening insinuations, light angst, again my interpretations of headspaces, limited use of (y/n)

Word Count: 3.7K

Author's notes: The people have spoken (it was three people but people I greatly appreciate and it was enough) so here is the third chapter too! Very much sticking with the episode plot because the main focus is on Crosshair and Omega for this one but there's still an added moment in the beginning! Enjoy and I'm excited to start chapter four!

“You picking up anything?” Wrecker asked your cross-legged form that was seated by the tree at the top of Pabu.

You heaved an annoyed sigh as you sat there. “Nope. I don’t know if it’s cause I’m out of practice or if she’s really somewhere I can’t reach or both, but I can’t get a read on her.” You then sensed Wrecker’s slight unease. “What’s up?”

“Well… um… Hunter’s talking about heading out immediately.”

“Mm-hmm.” You said, shielding your eyes from the sun as you opened them to look at him. “And that’s a problem because?”

“Come on, (Y/N), we can’t just drop the kids here and leave. That’s not fair to them. Plus, Shep offered us a break and- and I- I think it would be good if we got some actual food in our systems. Supplies haven’t exactly been easy to come by when you’re travelling as much as we are.”

You had to agree with him there. You got to your feet and followed his eyes and saw Hunter disengage from a conversation with Shep and stride back to the Marauder. “And what exactly do you want me to do here?”

“Just…” He breathed heavily. “I dunno. Talk to him? Try to get him to listen? He won’t hear us out but- but your relationship is different and- and it’s not just for me, okay. Do it for him. I know things are better but…” He trailed off. “But I’m still worried about him that’s all.”

His sensitivity to the situation never failed to strike a chord with you. You patted his arm. “We’re family, Wrecker. I’d do it just for you anyway.”

Wrecker let out a soft chuckle. “Yeah, I know.”

You walked away from him towards the ship and as you stepped aboard, you saw Hunter sitting back by the navicomputer with his sight fixed firmly on the datapad. “You know, the sector isn’t going to change if you don’t look at it every two minutes.”

“I’m just making sure we have it correct and ready to go. Can you get Wrecker?” Hunter asked without looking at you yet.

“About that…” You came to stand in front of him and placed your fingers under his chin to get him to face you. “What’s this about you wanting to just leave the cadets and take off? Shep’s offering us some decent food and we could rest up before we depart.”

“We don’t have time.” He maintained.

“No one’s talking about a five-course meal. It’s a quick sit down where you can put those clones at ease about this new situation that they’re in and you take a moment to just look after yourself.”

“I don’t need-”

“Hunter, when was the last time you had something to eat that wasn’t just rations?” You interrupted sternly. The mere fact that he couldn’t answer told you that it had been far too long. “Look, we don’t know what we’re going to face out there and we all need to be at full strength and ration bars can’t always cut it. It’s not just you involved in this either. Wrecker has been at it non-stop too and he deserves a moment of respite and something that isn’t a flavourless stick and so do you.

“(Y/N)-”

“Thirty minutes. That’s all I’m asking.”

As Hunter saw the determined look in your face, he heaved a sigh, but put the datapad down. He had never wanted his tunnel-vision with this search to negatively impact the rest of you but thanks to you, he realised now that if he had insisted on leaving immediately, then that’s exactly what he’d be doing.

Taking that as your answer, you took a hold of his hands and started to pull.

“Half an hour?” Hunter double checked as he let you tug him from the chair.

“Half an hour.” You confirmed with a nod. “Then we can get going again.”

Omega was already on her feet and waiting by the door when Emerie opened it.

“Good morning, Omega. Come along, there is much to do today.”

Omega followed Emerie through the usual route to the testing room but as she walked in and hopped up onto the examination table, she noticed there were more troopers patrolling and there was a new kind of tension in the air. “Something’s different.” She shared her observation aloud to Emerie. “Why are there so many troopers around?”

“I’m not certain.” Emerie replied.

“You don’t know?” Omega queried, not fully understanding how Emerie could be so content not knowing about what was going on around her.

“The doctor will inform me if it’s necessary.” Emerie prepared the blood drawing equipment and took the sample from Omega.

The door opened and they both turned to see Hemlock and Nala Se enter the lab.

“Emerie, a word?” Hemlock called over.

Emerie put the sample in the tray and walked over to him.

“An unexpected guest arriving shortly. Nala Se and I will be indisposed until he departs. Oversee the lab in her absence.”

“As you wish, Doctor. I will begin testing the latest samples.”

“That is unnecessary.” Nala Se interjected. “I will see to them when I return.” She had been doing her job in keeping Omega safe and having Emerie carry out the tests jeopardised all of it.

“Dr. Karr’s quite capable of handling such matters.” Hemlock ignored the Kaminoan’s objections and faced Emerie. “See it done.” His attentions were then commandeered when Scorch walked through the doors.

“Sir.”

“Is everything in order?”

“Affirmative. The shuttle has left the orbital station and the coordinated were transmitted.”

Nala Se stepped away from Hemlock to walk over to Omega as she saw Emerie gather the samples and leave the lab. She pretended to examine the records on the screen as she quietly addressed the young girl, “Omega… listen carefully. If Emerie tests your sample, you will be in danger. You must flee this facility before it is too late.”

“Wait. Is that why you’ve been destroying my sample?” Omega whispered back.

“Yes.” Nala Se replied. “Project-” But Hemlock’s voice interrupted her.

“Nala Se, come along. Our guest is arriving.”

“Go to the lab, retrieve my datapad and use it to escape. Sneak aboard a shuttle and flee.” Nala Se instructed before she left with Hemlock.

Omega made her way to the lab, her nerves growing as she saw the vast number of patrolling troopers, but she couldn’t second guess now, Nala Se made it clear she had to go, and she could make it work, she just needed the datapad and Crosshair.

She entered the lab and saw that Emerie had already placed all the samples, including hers into the centrifuge.

“Did you need something, Omega?” Emerie asked.

“I… Hemlock said there’s a guest arriving.” She released an awkward chuckle. “Who is it?”

“It’s best not to ask questions.” Emerie replied briskly. “See to your tasks for the day.” When Omega made no move to leave, she properly looked at her. “Are you feeling well? Forget your assignments and get some rest.”

“Okay.” Omega said lightly before she made her way over to Nala Se’s datapad but Emerie’s voice stopped her from taking it.

“Omega, I can handle things here. Go. I’ll check on you later.” Emerie insisted.

Double checking that Emerie’s attention was elsewhere again, Omega grabbed the datapad and ran out of the lab.

“We have quadrupled our objectives in record time.” Hemlock informed Emperor Palpatine as he led him to the vault. “The exotic matter facilities have expanded, providing alteration and testing of much larger assets.”

“I have need of such grand designs. However, that is not the reason why I am here today.”

“Of course. Project Necromancer.” With that, Hemlock activated the door to the vault.

Omega made her way to the detention level and covertly ran to the cell where her brother was lying on the cell cot. “Crosshair.” She whispered.

“What are you doing here?” Crosshair asked irritably.

“Escaping. And you’re coming with me.”

Crosshair reluctantly sat up and regarded the girl with scepticism. “You found a weak point?”

“Not exactly. I’m kinda improvising.”

“Is that some kind of a joke?”

“I’ll explain later. Just get the guards’ attention.”

Crosshair sighed, “That’s not a plan.”

Omega released a disgruntled scoff, and she did not want to entertain this argument, “Just distract him.” She insisted.

His longing for freedom trumped his displeasure at the fact that this kid seemed to lack any sort of proper strategic thinking. So, he got to his feet and walked towards the bars of his cell and addressed the two troopers standing down the corridor. “Guards!”

Omega waited round the corner and watched as one of them approached Crosshair’s door.

“Unlock this cell.” Crosshair demanded.

“What did you say?”

“I was giving you an order.”

The guard scoffed and called back to his partner, “This clone thinks he outranks us.”

“I do.” Crosshair replied simply as he saw the other guard coming to join. “And I’ll take your blaster too.”

“Oh yeah?” The trooper challenged with a mocking laugh. “How are you gonna do that?”

Whilst this was happening, Omega used the opening to place her datapad into the now unmanned centre console and programmed Crosshair’s cell door to unlock.

“You’ll see.” Crosshair didn’t have to wait long until his door opened, and he instantly overpowered the trooper. He stole his blaster and used his body as a shield from the oncoming stun blasts from the second stormtrooper whilst he fired his own stun blast in return and they both fell the ground.

“Nice work.” Omega praised as he put them back behind the cell door.

“Didn’t have much choice.” Crosshair griped as he picked up the second blaster.

“You’re out of the cell, aren’t you?” Omega countered smugly as she removed the datapad and caught the blaster he tossed to her before they both started running.

“Well? Start talking.” Crosshair said as he waited for her to get the next door open.

“I told you. We’re escaping.” Omega repeated.

“Why now? What’s changed?”

“Nala Se said I had to. And I wasn’t gonna leave without you.”

Crosshair let that sink in for a moment. It wasn’t a sentiment he was used to hearing or experiencing, and whilst he held responsibility for that, it was still strange to here coming from someone who had no true reason to have any loyalty to him.

“She told me to use her datapad to access the base and find a shuttle. We just need to get to a hangar.” Omega continued explaining as she finally got the door open.

They took cover behind the hallway’s centre console as a squadron of stormtrooper passed and they overheard part of their musings.

“We’re not supposed to be on patrol until midwatch.”

“Commander’s orders. All hands-on deck until the Emperor departs.”

“The Emperor’s here?” Crosshair hissed.

“What? I didn’t know.” Omega said defensively as she looked through the manifest of available shuttles.

Crosshair released another exasperated sigh. “Another reason why this was not the day to wing an escape.”

“Thanks for the reminder, but I think we’re past that point.” It was then that Omega noticed the tremor in his hand as he held the blaster. “Your hand’s getting worse, isn’t it?”

“I- It’s fine.” Crosshair said with a dismissive grunt as he willed it to stop shaking.

Not having time to push the matter yet, Omega turned her focus back to the screen but what she saw was not good. “Uh oh.”

“What?”

She took the datapad out. “All the shuttles have been grounded, except the Emperor’s. We’ll have to steal it.”

The sheer simplicity in which she said that had him realising that his brothers may have entertained one too many crazy ideas in his absence. “Impossible. It will be too well-guarded, even for me.”

Omega pondered through any possible alternatives in her head and then she came to the realisation with a gasp. “Wait. I know a shuttle we can use. It crash-landed outside the perimeter back when I first came here.”

“How does a crashed shuttle help us?”

“If the comms are still functioning, we can contact the others.”

He could concede that that part of this ill-conceived ‘plan’ wasn’t totally far-fetched. “And how do we get outside?”

“Follow me.”

“As you can see, the specimens are well-guarded to ensure they remain viable for testing. However, with more time, and additional resources, I am confident that we will have a successful M-count replication.” Hemlock revealed to the cloaked figure.

“There is nothing of greater importance to secure the future of this Empire. Whatever is needed to accomplish this goal, you will have it.”

“Thank you, Emperor.” Hemlock made to show him out, but he only turned to face him. His yellow eyes the only thing visible underneath the cloak as they regarded him with curiosity but also with a hint of disappointment.

Palpatine did not follow the scientist immediately. “I did here word, however, one such specimen escaped your grasp.” He commented. “One that perhaps could offer you more than those that are already under your… observations.”

Hemlock’s posture stiffened and he massaged the palm of his gloved hand. “It was an unfortunate error but one I am hoping to rectify.”

Palpatine only silently nodded before he started to walk out.

As they entered the kennels, they didn’t give the droid much time to react. A few blasts from their blasters and he was down.

“Now what?” Crosshair asked.

“We’ll use the kennel chute.” Omega said as she readied the controls. “It leads outside, but it’s protected by a timed ray shield. We’ll have to move fast or we’ll be trapped.”

Crosshair regarded the aggressive barking hounds uneasily. “Oh, I can hardly wait.”

“We can use Batcher’s empty kennel. Be ready.” She opened the chute, but the door whirred open.

“Omega.”

Crosshair cocked his blaster towards the woman that walked in.

“Don’t!” Omega placed her hand on his arm to get him to lower it.

Crosshair didn’t listen, he kept his sights trained on her.

“You should go back to your room.” Emerie advised as she advanced towards them.

“You mean her cell.” Crosshair snapped.

“You’re not thinking clearly. Neither of you.” Emerie said. “But it’s not too late. Come with me and no one needs to know about this.”

“I can’t do that.” Omega responded firmly.

“Omega-”

“I spent most of my life confined on Kamino. I won’t be trapped here too.” She looked imploringly at the older clone. “You’re a clone like us, Emerie. Help us.”

Crosshair could tell Omega’s words weren’t doing enough to convince her and he set his blaster to stun.

“Escape is not possible, Omega. This is for your own good.” She pressed the security alarm, but the stun shot hit her immediately afterwards.

The dreaded sound of the comms steady chirp told Crosshair he’d reacted a split second too late. “We have to go.”

Omega activated the first kennel door and the two of them ran down the chute.

Hemlock watched the Emperor’s shuttle depart with a growing sense of pride as the possibility of becoming the scientific minister felt closer than it ever had before.

“Sir.”

Hemlock half turned his head to the sound of Scorch’s voice. “What is it?” He asked tightly.

“Omega and CT-9904 are missing.”

He turned around fully. “Missing?” He glanced over at Nala Se and though her face didn’t give much away, he was sure she was involved somehow.

“An alarm was just triggered in the lurca kennels.”

“Seal it off.” He ordered.

An alarm blared through the tunnel and the shields throughout the chut started to turn back on.

“The shield’s not supposed to be active yet.” Omega said in distress.

“They know we’re in here.” Crosshair realised before he increased his speed. “Move faster!”

Together, they both managed to dive out of the exit just as the last shield activated.

Crosshair peered into the dark forest ahead. “What direction is the crashed shuttle?”

“Not sure.” Omega replied.

“Oh, great.” Crosshair muttered impatiently before he looked up to the sound of a shuttle leaving the base. “We’ll follow the flight path.”

“I’m picking up something.” Omega said as she looked at the datapad whilst they both came to a stop. “I think it could be the ship. That way.” She pointed ahead but the cry of a vicious snarl grabbed both their attention.

“Oh, good. The killer hounds.” Crosshair said wryly.

They started their run again but with Omega being so focused on the screen, she tumbled over a tree root.

Crosshair picked up the loose datapad and helped the girl up to her feet.

“Thanks.” Omega said but then she heard a new kind of animal growl, and she peered past Crosshair to see a giant bear-like creature standing tall on two legs. “Crosshair.” She said nervously.

Crosshair pointed his blaster, but he knew by the sheer size of the creature that there wouldn’t be much he could do.

Suddenly, the hounds came running in and rather than come after them, they charged at the creature, and they gratefully took the opportunity to keep running to the downed shuttle.

They reached the shuttle and Omega got to work on powering it up whilst Crosshair kept watch.

Having been dismissed by Dr. Hemlock when she’d come too, Emerie made her way back to the lab to do as he instructed and monitor things there. The monotonous click of the centrifuge blended into the background as she worked.

“Anything?” Crosshair asked.

Omega hit the control panel in sheer frustration. “It’s not working!” She let out a defeated sigh. “Comms are completely dead.” She put the datapad into a supply pack she’d found, grabbed her blaster, and put the pack on her back and came out to join Crosshair.

“They’re coming.” Crosshair said as he heard the low sound of engines approaching and he signalled to Omega to take cover to the side of the shuttle.

“I’m sorry. I thought this would work.” Omega

He may have been doubtful in the beginning, but it was clear that what he originally thought was careless thinking was actually rooted in that out-of-the-box thinking that had gotten him and his brother’s their success during the war and time thereafter. She had done something just by finding a way outside. Now, he could bring in his own experience. “You got us this far. And we’re not done yet. Did they teach plan 72?”

“Mm-hmm. Tech had me memorize all the plans.”

Despite the situation, he couldn’t help the small but fond smile that graced his face upon hearing that. “Of course he did.”

The two of them got in position as the shuttle arrived.

He looked at his hand with anger and infuriation as his aim was off with the first shot and all he could do was retreat into the treeline whilst they fired back at him.

With Crosshair’s distraction giving the opening she needed, Omega made her way to one of the cables the troopers had used to descend. But before she could get up, a stormtrooper cocked his blaster.

“Stand down.”

She awkwardly turned and waved to the soldier. “Hello.”

“I said, stand down.” He repeated forcefully.

Omega watched with shock as a lurca hound came snarling out from a bush and took out the trooper and when he got to his feet and aimed at the hound, she got her own stun blast away. “Batcher?” The answering happy bark told her the answer. “Stay close.” With that, Batcher went to take care of the troopers and she hooked onto the cable and ascended.

With the hound Omega had befriended making her appearance, Crosshair was able to take out more guards than he thought he would’ve been able to.

If things had gone according to plan, he would be able to join Omega in the shuttle in a few minutes. He just needed to bide his time.

Sure enough, as he took out one other trooper, the shuttle started to move wildly out of position and as he took cover from an onslaught of blaster fire, the shuttle fired down on the remaining troopers, and he hastily made his way across the rocks to reach the opening ship doors.

Omega steadied the shuttle and came down the lift to provide Crosshair with cover fire as he came in board and headed up to the pilot’s chair.

Crosshair reached the seat and chucked the pilot out the hatch.

Hearing the doors getting ready to shut, Omega took cover and whistled for Batcher. “Batcher, come!”

When the dog was safely inside, Crosshair shut the doors and got the ship in the air.

Emerie had gotten so used to the monotonous drone of the centrifuge that it had become mere background noise. So much so that she almost missed the new rhythmic beeping that chimed as a new sample clicked into position. Emerie stood up and investigated the screen and the realisation with what she saw, stunned her.

The troopers had only been half the problem. Despite having escaped the ground assault, they were now trying to out fly V-wing shuttles and the bases’ laser cannons and one of them managed to hit the shuttle.

“They’re locking onto us!” Omega shouted as alarms blared throughout the shuttle. “I can’t shake them! Systems are failing.”

“I want that ship neutralized.” Hemlock insisted heatedly as he watched map in main control room.

“Stop! Don’t shoot them down!” Emerie urged as she entered the room.

“What?” Hemlock snapped.

“The clone’s sample supported a positive M-count transfer with no degradation from the specimen.”

“CT-9904 was ruled out long ago.” Hemlock argued.

“Not him. It’s Omega.” Emerie revealed, showing him the results.

Hemlock studied the datapad and saw what she was talking about. “Call them off!” He directed Scorch.

“But, sir, they’re escaping.” Scorch tried to protest.

“Stand down!” Hemlock insisted. “We need her alive.”

Not looking to question the reason as to why they peeled off, Crosshair shouted to Omega. “Now!”

Omega launched the ship into hyperspace.

Hemlock watched the ship disappear off the map.

“They’ve jumped.” Scorch confirmed.

Hemlock released a short sigh. “A minor setback. I have the full resources of the Empire at my disposal. We will find her. And with her gone, she will lead us to someone else who will prove most useful to our endeavours.” With that, he exited the room.

Next Chapter>

Tagging: @noeasyisnoisy, @andreaaxy, @dominoeffectsworld, @nightmonkeysstuff, @arctrooper69, @starwarsnerd111, @fuckoffthanos, @graciexmarvel, @tpwkcalli, @brujaporfavor, @flyingkangaroo, @ladytano420, @keep-calm-and-drink-caf, @yyourmotherr, @sunkissedclones, @xxeiraxx, @dragonrider9905, @skellymom, @lokigirlszendaya

#the bad batch #the bad batch season 3 #the bad batch s3 #hunter x reader #hunter x femalejedi!reader #hunter x fem!reader #hunter x female!reader #sergeant hunter x reader #sergeant hunter #hunter tbb #hunter the bad batch #the bad batch hunter x you #hunter x y/n #tbb hunter x reader #the bad batch fanfiction #star wars #friends to lovers #angst #hurt/comfort

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lokisprettygirl · 6 months

Text

Utopia (Modern! Daemon Targaryen x female reader) (Non Canon AU) (18+)

Read chapter 8 here // Series Masterlist

Chapter 9

Summary: Daemon gives you the gift of a lifetime.

Warning: 18+ sex ,period sex (if it bothers you skip the scene) death and destruction that comes from a ship wreckage, smut, sex, menstrual sex, unprotected sex. Some inconsistency with ship sinking, i researched as much as I could

You were sitting in the office of the hiring manager of Casatopia, a popular five star hotel just outside London, it was closer to your house though and that's what you liked. Emma had asked Dalton to give your name for the vacant sous chef position so you decided to give it a try.

You couldn't just stay at home and miss Daemon like crazy when he wasn't around you, being at home all day long was driving you bonkers. The topia in the name made you feel slightly uneasy but you ignored the thought and decided to focus on the interview.

“So how was it at night ..over there?” Preston, the manager, asked you so you gave him a confused look, hoping that he would be able to provide you with a bit more context.

“I apologize I don't understand” you mumbled politely so he gave you a small smile.

“On the island I meant, I hope I'm not stepping on your boundaries, I'm just absolutely fascinated by your survival story” he said to you, his tone was gentle and filled with genuine curiosity.

Of Course he was curious. As soon as people recognised you this was how it went, perhaps you should consider scraping 'Worked as a sous chef on Queen Utopia' from your resume. You couldn't help but feel that it may not be the most professional topic to discuss at a job interview.

“It was tough but atleast I wasn't alone, I had someone who kept me sane there, there are people on this earth who have survived months with no one by their side so I'm grateful to not be alone in that situation” you mumbled politely as you understood where he was coming from.

Prior to your experiences on the ship and the island, you were one of those people who would read about survival stories and be amazed at what the survivors had accomplished. You always found it impossible to imagine yourself in such a situation and couldn't comprehend how someone could have the resilience and to make it through something like that.

That was, until you found yourself in a similar situation on the island, and your survival instincts began to kick in.

“Yeah I know..Daemon Targaryen, you lot are famous” You gave him a tight lipped smile as he said that.

A news article had picked up Lily's reddit post which had then reached the mainstream media. The backlash was brutal, but you and Daemon stood firm and refused to get caught up in the drama. You both knew that your love and appreciation for each other shouldn't have needed any justification after the traumatic event you both had been through. It should have been self-explanatory,

“Alright you're hired” he said to you so you furrowed your brows as he didn't really ask anything about your work experiences.

“You don't want to know anything about my capabilities or -” he interrupted you before you could even finish your sentence.

“Dalton told me enough..i just wanted to meet you if I'm being honest”

Were you getting some sort of hero privilege because of your suffering? You weren't sure if you enjoyed being favored like this or not. The attention you received was overwhelming and at times made you feel uncomfortable, especially when it seemed like people were looking at you as some kind of hero rather than a regular human being who just happened to have survived a traumatic experience when there really wasn't any other option.

“Our live band quit on us a few days ago and we are looking for a band again, though i have connected with the manager already, i hope The Dragonriders would accept the job”

You sighed as he said that and you were going to politely decline the job offer but then he passed you the salary slip and you accepted it almost immediately, it was more than you could have ever imagined.

Later that day as you reached home after that weird interview session, there was a text from Daemon, he was supposed to meet you at your place..

You grabbed a few things and called a cab to make way to his place. He had given you a key to his house for emergencies purposes and normally you'd just knock but you decided to make use of the key this time, as you knew that Daemon was in pain and likely resting in bed.

As you entered his bedroom he was laying on the bed with his head squished into the pillow so you climbed into the bed and wrapped your arm around him, as soon as he felt your touch his arm circled around your waist and he placed his head between the crook of your neck. His eyes were bloodshot red, his face was warm to the touch as well, he seemed flushed and even though he was in misery at the moment you couldn't help but notice how pretty he looked like this.

“Let me take care of you ok..did you take your pill?” You asked him softly as you scratched his scalp so he barely groaned in response.

“I'll be right back okay?” you got up from the bed, turning off all the lights in the room, as you knew how sensitive Daemon was to bright lights. You brought out the candles you had packed with you and began lighting them, casting a warm soft glow around the room. You then made your way to the kitchen to fetch a bowl of ice water and a wet cloth. Once everything was ready, you returned to Daemon's room and gently tapped his shoulder to get his attention so he scooted closer and placed his head on your lap.

Dipping the cloth in the icy cold water you placed it on his forehead and he sighed as he felt the cooling sensation, he opened his eyes to look at you for a moment, his lips curved into a faint smile before he closed his eyes again and allowed you to do your thing.

He had never had anyone caring about him like this, this was one of those things that made him feel closer to you on the island and he had come to realize how precious you actually were inside out.

And now your value in his life was something nobody else would ever be able to replicate or replace.

During his migraine attacks the most Lily ever did for him was that she'd sing at times and not that he was going to compare you two, he appreciated her efforts too but you just did it differently, you took care of him in ways he always wanted to be cared for.

He laid there quite for what felt like hours and as the burning pain gradually subsided, he took your hand and kissed it lovingly before he asked you to stop, he just wanted to hold you now and cuddle the night away.

“Emma found us a gig” he mumbled so you sighed in response. You were well aware of the gig.

“She found me a job as well at Casatopia” you said to him so nodded in acknowledgement. He already knew about that.

“Fate” he muttered softly so you pecked on his lips.

“It's giving me deja vu.. doesn't it feel weird to you that we'd be working again at the same place, in the hospitality industry no less? And there's literally topia in the name?”

He pulled away a little as you said that, he wasn't really thinking about it until you pointed it out.

“Are you worried something awful is going to happen again?” he asked you with concern evident in his voice.

“Yeah..what if the hotel burns down or explodes? Or something” you mumbled, your voice held a sense of foreboding.

“That's not going to happen sweetheart..you can't go about your life living in such fear but that is not to say that your fears are not valid, they truly are ..but no matter what happens I'll find you like you have found me..i promise okay?” he reassured you gently and you couldn't help but smile at that. The trauma was indented into you so deeply but with him by your side life was so much easier to deal with.

“Are you feeling okay now?” You asked him so he hummed in response,

“I'd feel much better if you'd ride me right about now” he gave you a mischievous smirk so you tapped on his cheek lightly.

“Dirty boy” you mumbled as you climbed on top of him and immediately unbuttoned his pants. Sometimes you both needed this quick raw fuck where no foreplay was a necessity or required, you just wanted to feel him inside you and he was more than eager to spill into you as fast as you could make him.

“Would you keep your schedule clear for the next week?” he asked you so you looked at him curiously.

“The whole week? I'm starting that job..”

“Can you talk to them and start a week later?” He mumbled as his breath hitched in his chest when you sunk down on him,

“Normally it would have seemed impossible but considering that manager is such a fan of ours I think I can manage” you chuckled softly and that made him smile too.

“Mmmm the trauma has its perks huh?”

You rode him very slowly at first as you just wanted to feel him in there, your fingers worked the buttons of his shirt and then you leaned down to suck on his neck before you lowered your mouth and pressed kisses on his bare chest.

“What are you planning?” You whispered in his ear so he gave you a smile.

“I'm taking you somewhere sweetheart”

“I can't ask where?”

He shook his head as you said that.

“It's a surprise”

“Alrighty”

Next day while Daemon was rehearsing with the band you sat down in front of the tv and received a surprising albeit not really shocking news, you had a feeling that Danny had something to do with the ship sinking incident and you were proven right.

He had come out in the open to tell that he had inadvertently left the cargo hatch open on the lower deck because he was distracted by something and someone, which allowed water to enter and resulted in the sinking, when he had realised it was too late to fix it. His video had received a million views where he was seen crying and apologizing because he couldn't bear the guilt of it anymore.

Even though Danny hadn't directly implicated Lily in his statement, you couldn't shake the feeling that her involvement was still tied to the tragedy because she had sent that voicemail that night to Daemon mentioning Danny and you had seen Danny at her house that night.

As you watched the news, you found yourself at a loss for words. How could Danny have made such a devastating mistake, especially when so much was at stake? The consequences of his actions were unfathomable, and you couldn't help but feel a mixture of anger, sadness, and frustration bubbling up inside you.

People had lost their lives, families had been torn apart, and all because of one person's negligence.

You felt enraged because he was the reason why you had to suffer for so long on that Island, all of this for what?

All you felt in that moment was resentment and anger towards Lily and Danny, that night when he looked into your eyes you didn't understand that look he gave you but now you knew it was probably guilt.

Given the severity of the situation, it was likely that he was going to get charged with manslaughter and his life was ruined, that was given.

When you saw Daemon that day he seemed lost too so you just wrapped your arms around him and hugged him tightly to comfort him.

“Did she ever tell you about this?”

You asked him as you pulled away so he shook his head lightly,

“I can't make sense of it…how could you be involved in something like that and then..she must have known that ship would sink and she didn't even try to warn us or— i -” you rubbed his shoulders with your fingers to comfort him as you heard his voice breaking, he was at loss of words as well, same as you but it was more difficult for him because Lily was involved.

“You spend years with someone and you think you know who they are but I.. didn't know her ..at all. How could I have been in love with her if I didn't know her like that?” his eyes teared up as he questioned you so you cupped his cheeks and kissed his forehead.

“It's not that easy.. love is complex..you can't put it in a box like that Daemon..you loved her but honestly she never deserved your love”

He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you closer as you said that, until now he had never heard you saying anything against Lily even when she gave you every reason to do so but now he understood your resentment as he felt the same way about it. He resented her now especially because ever since he had returned all she had tried to do was possess him again, she didn't care what he had gone through and she definitely didn't care that she was one of the reasons why that had happened to him.

He really thought that perhaps with time a friendship could develop between them again but this revelation had changed that for him. He didn't want her in her life anymore, he didn't want to be around her in any form.

A week later you were packing for that surprise trip and Emma offered to help you with that,

“Where is he taking you?” She asked you so you shrugged in response as you didn't know yourself where he was taking you. This was his big surprise.

“He won't say anything..I was hoping he had spilled something to Aemond or Cole-”

“Nahh Aemond would have told me”

You nodded as she said that, the next morning he picked you up in the earliest and as you reached the dock with him your blood ran cold so he took his seat belt off and grabbed your hand.

“I need you to trust me, okay? Can you?” he asked you softly so you gulped in nervousness.

“Are we.. going on a boat ride?” your voice shook as you spoke so he nodded,

“It's going to be ok..I'll take care of you I promise.. I just ..just trust me please”

You cupped his cheeks as he said that. The ocean terrified you, anything to do with ships or boats scared you but you wanted to trust him because you had a feeling this was something really important to him and you had a feeling wherever he was taking you would only bring you happiness because he was certain of it.

As you boarded the high-speed boat, the churning waters and the speed at which the vessel was traveling brought back memories so you spent most of the time being in the deck with Daemon,

Apart from you two there were two trained operators who were going to drive you both towards the destination, you noticed how the boat was equipped with everything you'd ever need in the case of an emergency. Plenty of rations, clothes and other necessities were available.

“How much did you spend on this?” You asked him softly as you both were cuddling on the bed so he gave you a smirk.

“You don't have to worry about that..I wanted to do this for both of us”

He was being so cryptic and mysterious and perhaps you'd have felt wary of a man's intentions but it was Daemon, your cavemon and if there was something you knew about that man then it was the fact that he'd never hurt you or harm you in anyways.

With Daemon by your side the time always seemed to race so approx two days later as you finally reached your destination he put a blindfold over your eyes and asked you to not try to peek until he said so.

You couldn't help but giggle, his excitement was infectious.

He wrapped his arms around your waist as he guided you off the boat and as soon as he put you down you felt the warm sand beneath your feet and let out a literal gasp.

“Daemon–” your voice came out in a whisper and as you inhaled the air, your eyes widened.

You didn't even have to guess anymore as you recognized the scent of your surroundings immediately. You had spent six months here after all.

You were back on the island, the island that had saved your life in a way and brought the love of your life closer to you.

The uninhabited island that was now owned by Daemon Targaryen and had a name now. Utopia- a place where everything was perfect.

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Note: There will be an epilogue for this to sum it up. But this was all I had to tell about Mr Cavemon and his brave girl that risked everything for him. Hope my lovely few readers had enjoyed this story 🥺

Taglist

@mcufan72 @123forgottherest @shuichiakainx @stupidthoughtsinwriting @tmlbdv

@ammo23 @anukulee @ajthefujoshi

#daemon targaryen #daemon targaryen x female reader #daemon targaryen x reader smut #daemon targaryen x reader angst #daemon targaryen x reader fluff #non canon au #modern day au #modern daemon targaryen

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badbatchsprincess · 5 months

Text

Heated ~ pt.11

Pt.1 ~ Pt.2 ~ Pt.3 ~ Pt.4 ~ Pt.5 ~ Pt.6 ~ Pt.7 ~ Pt.8 ~ Pt.9 ~ Pt.10 ~Pt.11

Masterlist

Summary: This is an ABO Bad batch!Poly x Omega Reader smut with a plot. This takes place as an AU before order 66. Y/N previously served under the 501st before being transferred to Special Forces 99. This is her adventure with these rowdy Alphas in a quickly changing universe.

THIS IS AN ABO AU ABOUT THE BAD BATCH (NO CANON OMEGA!) Due to the unfortunate situation of her name being Omega… Omega the child from the canon series is not going to be apart of this fanfic/porn with a plot. I feel obligated to put this warning in because it makes my skin crawl thinking anyone could make that mistake.

Warnings: We got some action, some canon typical violence, and a little angst. Shits about to get wild from here on out hold onto your pants. Hunter's growing breeding kink and Crosshair's riffle.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

"We’re literally never going to get shore leave," Wrecker groaned, picking up Gonky and putting the battery droid into the Marauder. It seemed like the repairmen were able to get all new parts installed overnight, leaving the Marauder in pristine condition.

"They didn’t tell you why we needed to go to Kamino?" Crosshair asked, busy reloading the armory with a new crate of weapons.

"No," Echo shook his head.

"Why do I need to come to Kamino?" You chirped, sipping on your to-go cup of caff and breakfast.

"Your presence was requested," Echo shrugged.

"I didn’t even think your creators knew about me," you pondered.

"It is strange," Tech responded from the cockpit. "They don’t usually like civilians in Tipoca City."

"Do you think it’s something bad?" You took a bite of your egg sandwich.

"There is no indication of such things, but who is to know really," Tech mused, adjusting the settings on the console to his liking.

"Let’s get a move on," Hunter ordered. "The faster we get there, the faster we can get back."

"Sounds good to me!" You slid off the crate and grabbed your brand new medic pack, double-checking all your requested supplies were in there, along with the backup supply in the ship’s storage.

You felt Tech start up the engines and ran to the front to strap in.

It wasn’t long before the Marauder was up in the air and zooming through hyperspace. It would be a few hours before you entered Kamino airspace, so you decided to busy yourself and study the way Crosshair cleaned Firepuncher.

Crosshair seemed to be enjoying your attention, making sure to show you all the nooks and crannies that are usually missed. He even let you take the little brush with the cleaning solution and do a few pieces yourself.

"Atta girl," he praised as you followed his instructions to a T.

You smiled, handing him back the tools. He reassembled the weapon, giving it one last pass with the cleansing cloth before oiling the moving mechanisms. He pulled out a hand wipe, cleaning the oil and blaster residue off his own fingers, before taking your hands and cleaning yours. He tossed away the dirtied wipe before taking your chin in his hands, plucking his toothpick from his lip, and tilting your face up to meet his. He bent down to press a loving kiss to your lips, making your cheeks heat.

He popped the pick back between his teeth and took Firepuncher with him to the cockpit. You shamelessly watched the lithe sniper saunter out of the room.

"He’s only like that with you," Hunter smirked at you.

"I doubt that," you sighed, cleaning up the dining table with a damp towel.

"I’m serious," he crossed his arms. "You’re good for him."

You rolled your eyes. "Hardly."

"He let you clean Firepuncher," Hunter smiled. "Safe to say you’re the only one he’s ever let do that."

"I’ll keep that in mind," you said, putting the rag into the dirty hamper.

"He’s never let anyone get close to him. I mean, none of us have really. We didn’t exactly have an easy upbringing," Hunter shared, trying to open up a bit more, but it was obvious it had hurt him too. "Crosshair is the youngest. He struggled the most with all the ostracization. I think it’s what made him so cold and severe, but he seems to have taken a liking to you. I noticed the way he changed slightly when you joined. Like how he started bringing you things when we were out."

"So he was the one leaving them on my cot?" You smiled, thinking back to all of the little trinkets, stones, or sweets.

"You’re getting through to him," Hunter said, standing up and walking over to you. "It’s more than we ever could have."

"He’s your brother," you sighed, looking down at Hunter’s lips.

“Exactly.” He whispered pressing forwards until your lips met. You purred into Hunter’s mouth feeling him bring one hand up to support your cheek as he kissed you passionately. He then deepened the kiss urging you to open your mouth slightly for his tongue to explore. You too explored, you wanted to memorize everything Hunter liked, well really what each alpha liked, but you decided you’d start with Hunter. You already knew Tech and Crosshair liked when you’d brat a little and that would end up in your submission to them. Hunter however, seemed a lot more like Wrecker in that he was mainly interested in your pleasure… but you were determined.

You ran your hands to the nape of his neck and massaged there feeling him moan into your mouth. Okay, nape, check. You smiled tugging him further down do you were laid out on the table with your legs wrapped around his waist while he bent over pinning you to the surface.

He surged forwards pushing his cod piece into your clothed core. You whined and squirmed against him feeling yourself get turned on by the weight at your apex.

You moved your hand from his name to around the front of his neck giving it an experimental squeeze. He gave you a soft warning growl which made you immediately continue your journey south. Okay no choking for him.

You hand your hands over his chest plate wishing you could feel the hard planes of his chest.

Hunter pulled back looking down at you with a suspicious smirk, “What are you going little one?”

You tried catching your breath and smiled back, “Nothing.”

“Hmm.” He eyed you before diving back in to capture your lips. When you leaned up to reciprocate, he snatched up your neck and slammed you back down to the table making your eyes widen in surprise. He squeezed. Not hard enough to hurt you but just enough that it made your stomach flip and your heart race… maybe he was more dominant than you gave the Sargent credit for.

“Are you… studying me?” He gave you a wolfish grin.

You swallowed looking up into his amber eyes, “Maybe…”

He grinned keeping you pinned to the table.

“Mesh’la…” He leaned down to lick at your gland under his thumb. You whined grinding down on his codpiece. He stood back up rubbing small circles into the gland making you writhe on the table, “You’re adorable little ‘mega.”

You felt yourself getting wetter by the second, absolutely destroying your panties. Maker you wanted him so badly.

“J-just want to know how to make you feel good.” You whimpered trying to get some kind of release for the tension thrumming through your entire system.

He sighed a laugh leaning over you again giving you some mercy by grinding into you. You moaned. Between the rubbing between your thighs and the stimulation to your mating gland, you were on the edge of cumming.

“Such a perfect little omega aren’t you?” He hummed watching you start to sweat. He could smell your slick and hear the way your heart hammered in your chest and he knew you were being edged, “Always so concerned with your alphas.”

You cried out grabbing at the wrist around your neck and using the heel of your boots to force him even closer to you. He chuckled at your attempts to buck harder into him.

“Do you want to cum pip?” He drawled.

“Yes sir.” You whimpered desperate for this torture to end.

“Well because you’ve been such a good girl,” He used his free hand to unbutton your pants and slide them inside towards your pulsing core. You nearly screamed when he finally started to rub tantalizing little circles into your aching clit.

“Cum omega.” He commanded.

You gasped feeling the sudden rush of your orgasm take over you. You arched up off the table pressing into him further. He only stopped stimulating your gland when you had finally worked through your orgasm.

He smiled down as he released your neck and buttoned up your pants.

“You feeling good, makes me feel good ‘mega.” He pushed his forehead into yours, “But if you want me to be more dominant like my brothers then we can do that too.”

You hummed, “I only want what you want Hunter, whatever feels right.”

He flashed his teeth at you again, growling, “What feels right… what feels right is me sinking my teeth right here little one.” He thumbed your glad again making you shudder, “as much as I want to totally loose myself, I know I can’t… You make me feel feral Ad’ika. You scent, it drives me wild.”

You starred up at him through your heavy eyes feeling your heart start to beat quickly again.

“You want to mate me Hunter?” You whispered seductively tilting your neck back so he could grip you again.

You watched his eyes dilate at your words, “fuck mesh’la.” He sighed and shook his head trying to snap himself out of it, “I want to pup you.” He admitted and pressed his other hand to your abdomen, “Fucking Layla got me thinking about it.” He massaged your belly imagining what you’d look like swollen with his pups.

You studied him… he seems to have quite the breeding kink, a mischievous smile crept up onto your lip, “boy or girl Hunter?”

“Hmm?” He looked up from your belly into your heady eyes.

“Boy or girl?” You repeated.

“Girl… definitely a girl.” He kissed you pressing you back down to the table.

“Is that why your hindbrain cut out my implant?” You giggled and squirmed under him, “You want to knock me up?”

“M’guess so.” He mumbled nuzzling your gland.

You just sighed in contentment enjoying the way he mouthed at your shoulder keeping a firm grip on your side.

“Better keep those fangs to yourself Hunter.” Tech groused passing by data pad in hand.

Serge sighed sitting up finally snapping out of the trance you had put him in.

“Sharing is caring.” Crosshair stepped into the hallway to tease his older brother.

“You’re gonna make him territorial.” You lulled your head to the side to look at the sniper.

Crosshair chuckled, “He’s always been territorial.”

“As are you.” Tech stepped into the doorway.

“Byproduct of being an alpha.” Crosshair flashed a fangy smile at you. You giggled sitting up making Hunter stand.

“I’m not territorial.” Tech looked up from his search.

You scoffed, “Oh yes you are.”

“What?” He was confused, “When have I displayed territorial tendencies.”

“When I first saw the 501st after joining you.” You pushed Hunter back so you could saunter over to Tech, “In 79’s, I saw that look in your eye when I danced with regs, and then when I almost drowned, you got your punches in. Don’t think I didn’t see that.” You smirked poking him in the chest plate.

“Is that considered territorial?” He looked up at his brothers.

“Sounds about right.” Hunter nodded. Crosshair agreed.

You smirked and crossed your arms, “Then you and Cross marked me up on Mimban. Had those women thinking I was in trouble.”

He widened his eyes realizing you were right.

“It would seem I do display territorial behavior.” He nodded, “I must look into this.” He walked off typing furiously into his data pad.

You just shook your head laughing and walked back to lean on the table.

“How much longer to Kamino?” Hunter asked Crosshair.

“Half an hour.”

“Alright, let’s get ready to doc.” Hunter ushered the two of you out and into the cockpit.

~~~

"Where are you taking me?" you asked the Kaminoan.

"We need your assistance in the medical wing. You're the only one with experience regarding the spice chemical compounds," she replied.

You glanced at Hunter, who gave you an approving nod. Swallowing nervously, you agreed to follow the female alien, feeling a little uneasy about leaving your pack with this unfamiliar woman. Looking back, you noticed they were still watching you as you disappeared down the hallway.

"What is your name?" the Kaminoan asked.

"Y/N Y/L/N," you responded, clutching the straps of your med pack, feeling a little like you were back in school.

All around you, shinies and cadets marched in perfect lines. Every few clones would break their focus to peer at you. You ignored them, following behind the Kaminoan called Nala Se.

As you neared the medical wing, you noticed a group of pacing soldiers in blue.

"Fives?" you called out to him. He looked at you, confused at first, before walking over to you.

"CT-5555," Nala Se nodded.

He nodded back before embracing you. You hugged him back, stepping up on your tiptoes to whisper in his ear, "Layla got your memo. Echo and I read it."

"Did Layla send you?" he whispered back before standing upright, "It’s been so long, kid. How are you doing?"

You scrunched your brow in confusion for a second before realizing he was prompting you to play along. "I’m doing fine. How’s Rex?"

"Eh, you know... as good as he was after Umbara," Fives said, sounding too cheerful for referring to THE Umbara siege. You nodded, understanding that Rex and the boys weren’t doing well and that there was some sort of conspiracy at play.

You double-tapped your arm, signaling a "no" in reference to his first question. "Oh, that’s great. I’ll have to spend some time with him when we’re back on rotation."

He flashed you a sign he and the boys used to let you know to stay quiet in tough situations. "I know he’ll love that. You were always his favorite civ."

"Hah," you smiled, giving another signal that you understood the mission. "Well, let the others know I’m sending my love."

"Of course, Tiny," he embraced you again and whispered, "Don’t trust the Kaminoans," before pulling back with a charming smile.

You smiled too, giving his arm a squeeze.

Nala Se continued on, and you followed after her, giving Fives one more glance before turning left and disappearing into the medical facility.

"Did you serve under CT-7567?" Nala Se asked while approaching her desk.

"Yes. I was a medic for the 501st before the 99’s," you replied, using your military-trained voice.

"They seem to like you," she remarked.

You didn’t know if she was trying to pry information out of you. The way she spoke seemed to indicate so. "I’m the only one not giving them orders and fixing their injuries. The position tends to make friends."

"Friends," she repeated, picking up her data pad. "After the incident on Crait, we’ve been trying to ascertain a sample of the same compound used. I was wondering if you could give me a recount of the events. Most of our clones have been altered to withstand almost all stressors, diseases, and injury. As I’m sure you’re well aware, they’re stronger than most natural-born humans. This is their design. It is a concern of ours to have this weakness in them. We wish to alter our work for future cloning and perhaps even develop a cure for the battlefield."

You sighed before crossing your arms and bringing back the information to the forefront of your mind. "Well, I didn’t know what happened until it was too late. Hu-uhh-CT-9901 later recounted the events that led to the dosing. There was already a Republic team researching the findings based on suspicious reconnaissance information. They went missing, and my unit went to retrieve them and their findings. I rarely leave the ship, so one second everything is fine, then the next…” You swallowed, trying to find the words to appropriately explain what occurred. “CT-9901 had incapacitated CT-1409 while trying to get to me. The drug affected his alpha instincts and rendered him feral. I had the implant, but due to his enhanced scent, he could still pick up on my pheromones, and then it was a struggle until I shot him. It was the only thing that was going to stop him. The others kept him tied up in the brig until it was all out of his system. It took almost a day."

"In the report, it said he had cut out your implant," Nala Se read through it.

"That is correct."

"Then you were able to get medical assistance aboard General Skywalker’s vessel."

"That is correct."

"Did CT-9901 have any lingering effects?" she asked.

"Not that I’m aware of," you shook your head.

"It’s not often we have a human female omega in this facility. Is it alright if I take some blood samples for testing purposes?"

You nodded, "Sure."

She sat you down on a chair before grabbing the injector site. She cleaned your arm before pressing the machine to your skin.

She took the samples and placed them in the care of a medic droid.

"Is there anything else I can assist with?" you asked, standing up and pressing a bandage to the small wound.

"Yes, actually. We had a clone recently turn on a Jedi and unfortunately kill her. We’re suspecting it was caused by this bioweapon altering his behavior."

You steeled the expression that was begging to come out on your face. You kept a neutral expression, but deep down, you knew it was deeper than this. The drug may make alphas become feral, but to kill a Jedi, that wasn’t adding up.

"He killed a Jedi?" you clarified.

"Yes," Nala Se wasn’t giving any more information.

Was that why she was asking about Hunter cutting you? You knew you were going to have to really guard your words from here on out.

She walked you over to the other side of her office before opening a door out onto a viewing platform. Below, seemed to be the training facilities that the clones had told you about from their teen years.

Down below, there was a single clone standing there and a medical droid. You watched the droid inject a crimson substance into the clone. He started to growl as the spice entered his system. You watched in abject horror as they experimented cruelly on this poor man. You bit your tongue, however. If Fives was right, you were being watched too, and you had to be so careful.

The man writhed and howled as he slipped into the hindbrain. His face contorted into something aggressive and frightening. Then the same droid that took your blood sample hovered down toward one of the barricades out of view of the clone, it dripped your blood onto the sterile surface, and suddenly the man whipped his head up like Hunter had. He made a direct beeline for your scent.

He was making soft cooing noises trying to lure out the omega he thought was there. When he turned the corner and found nothing but blood, he roared, touching the drop and bringing it to his nose. Then, like out of one of Kix’s favorite horror movies, the affected clone zeroed in on you and Nala Se on the viewing platform like Hunter when he’s tracking. He snarled and started running toward you, determined to climb up there.

Nala Se gave the order to have him sedated, and you watched the fighting clone collapse into stillness. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding and looked to the Kaminoan.

"Was the Jedi an omega?" you deadpanned, still a little shocked from the demonstration.

Nala Se hesitated, “No.”

You nodded.

"We have requested you and your unit to assist us in finding more information about the origins of this research," she walked you out of the lab and back into the hallway where Fives had been, "Your group leader has already been briefed, but we wish to have you involved as you were there from the genesis of this issue."

"I will do my best," you swallowed nervously. You were hoping none of you would have to go near this ever again, but it seems it’s becoming the main focus of the GAR whether you like it or not.

~~~

When you entered the 99’s barracks, you were first hit with the smell. Ugh… unkempt alpha… you scrunched your nose and stepped inside.

"Are you okay?" Hunter asked, walking up to you, seeing the bandage.

"Yeah, they just wanted my blood," you brushed him off.

"What for?" Echo asked.

You shuffled nervously, "T-they’re running tests… on regs. It was horrible." You bit back tears, "They dosed a shiny and lured him around with my blood to see how feral he’d become. Right before he decided to come after me, they sedated him and took him away."

"They used you as bait?" Crosshair growled, plucking the pick from his mouth.

"No… I mean not really. Just my blood sample," you tried to console him.

"Why are they doing that?" Hunter asked.

"Nala Se said they’re trying to develop a cure for the drug. They wanted my blood since there's no omegas around here."

"That’s what they wanted you for?" Wrecker wondered.

"She wanted me to go over Crait again. I don’t know why. She wanted to know the specifics of Hunter cutting out my implant. She seemed interested."

"Interested?" Tech pondered, and you nodded, "Did she say anything else?"

"Just that we’re supposed to be going on another mission? She said you already were briefed," you looked to Hunter.

He reached a hand out to cup your cheek when the door whooshed open, and Fives came running inside. Hunter immediately retreated his hand to glare at the reg.

"Fives?" you quirked your head, "What are you doing here?"

"I tried finding you after I saw you, but Nala Se was alone. I knew you’d be here," he caught his breath.

"What’s wrong?" you asked, stepping toward him, intending a hand on his shoulder. You heard Crosshair make a warning growl, but you just threw him a look.

"I needed to talk to you without them watching."

"Okay," you nodded, pulling out a stool for him to sit on.

"Is this about Tup?" Echo asked, coming closer to sit.

"Yeah," Fives nodded, "Something is going on around here."

"Nala Se said he was drugged with the spice," you sat on the table, pushing Tech’s old scribbles to the side.

Fives shook his head, "No, he wasn’t drugged."

You cringed, "Wait so he killed the Jedi on his own?"

"Who killed a Jedi?" Hunter squawked.

"Tup," Echo shook his head.

"Why could a clone kill a Jedi? It’s literally impossible for us to even fathom that," Tech was confused. It goes against all of their programming.

"Were you there?" you asked.

Fives nodded, "We all were. I insisted I come back with him, he’s my brother ya know? Rex is distraught and Anakin doesn’t understand what the hell is going on. But I knew something was off when the Kaminoans started insisting it was the spice. Kix literally tested him for any substances and he cleared the test. Plus, if that was the case we’d all be rutting like crazy right now." He shook his head, "I don’t trust the Kaminoans, they’re hiding something."

"So what are you saying you think it is?" Tech asked.

"Kix thinks it’s stress-related," Fives shrugged.

"That’s not possible, that part of our brain was altered to not experience stress," Tech shook his head.

You scoffed, what a dream.

“That’s what Rex said,” Fives replied.

“Well, where is Tup now?” you asked.

“Sedated in one of the medical wards.”

“Sedated?”

"Yeah, he wouldn’t shut up about following orders or something like that," Fives shrugged. "Shaak Ti thinks he’s been brainwashed by seppies."

“Is that a possibility?” Hunter asked. "No one’s ever heard of that before."

“No, he was with us the entire time. He just snapped all of a sudden,” Fives sounded worried.

You put your hand on his, trying to comfort him. He just smiled sadly and sighed, “Kix says hi, by the way.”

“Is he here?” You asked, perking up.

“Yeah, but they have him working. A batch of shinies got pretty banged up on their first dispatch.”

“Typical,” you laughed, thinking about the nearly thousand times you’ve had to patch up the 501st boys, especially in the early days.

“I heard some pretty crazy stuff about you all,” he looked around. “Did you guys really crash land on Mimban?”

“Now, how did you hear about that?” You laughed.

“I have my sources,” he jested.

“Any chance your source is 5’3 and wears mini skirts?” You smirked.

“Now, how could you have possibly guessed that?” He mimicked you.

“Layla!” Tech said, like it was trivia.

“You know Layla?” Fives scrunched his nose.

“We were all on Ani’s Venator for a week, Fives!” You shook your head.

“Oh yeah!” Fives laughed. “When Sarge here put you into heat!”

You deflated. “Thanks for the reminder.”

“No problem,” he smiled.

“Layla baked us cookies!” Wrecker added.

“No! Tech and I made the cookies!” You pouted.

“Okay, fine, you made the cookies, but Layla was there,” Wrecker rolled his eyes.

“Ya’ll are hanging out without me, darlin’?” He playfully shoved you.

“Yup,” you smiled standing up, “And I found out Layla has a thing for ARC troopers.”

Fives scrunched his nose before turning to Echo, who looked smug.

“Like the good old days!” Five punched his batch mate Echo; just shoved him back playfully. “Cool place, by the way,” Fives waved around at the super messy barracks.

“Thanks,” the 99’s answered in unison.

Crosshair played with his toothpick. “Aren’t we supposed to be leaving?” Crosshair drawled, clearly bored with the reg.

“Oh yeah,” Hunter nodded, standing up again, “We’re leaving for Kaller.”

“Kaller?” Fives stood up, grabbing his helmet. “Kriff is on Kaller?”

“Apparently, the origin point of the spice compound,” Tech informed.

“Am I coming?” You asked Hunter.

“Yeah, we’re definitely not leaving you here,” Hunter replied.

Fives gave you a little suggestive look, which you just rolled your eyes at.

“Let’s go before Nala Se wants all my blood,” you grabbed your med pack, slinging the straps over your shoulders.

“She took what?” Fives grabbed you by the shoulders.

“She took my blood,” you looked over to Echo, then back to Fives.

“What for?” He squeezed you a bit.

“She was running tests on shinies and the spice. She wanted my blood to test the efficacy of their symptoms.”

“They used her as bait,” Crosshair corrected.

“How much did she take?” Fives asked.

You shrugged. “Two vials.”

“She asked for you specifically?” Fives was starting to sound nervous.

“Fives, you’re scaring me,” you whined.

Hunter stepped in, separating the two of you, keeping you tucked into his side. “What are you saying?”

“Have any of you noticed how different she smells?” He gestured to you.

You narrowed your eyes, looking around at the others.

“She doesn’t smell like any omega I’ve ever been around,” Fives crossed his arms.

“Is that a bad thing?” You asked quietly.

“No,” everyone said in unison.

“Why would the Kaminoans want Pip’s blood?” Tech asked.

“I don’t know,” Fives shrugged. “But Kaminoans don’t do anything without a purpose. She’s unique. For what reason, I don’t know. But I’m guessing it has something to do with this spice stuff.”

“All the more reason to get her far away from here,” Hunter said.

“I’m fine with that,” you were thrilled to get off this waterlogged planet. You looked to Fives. “Are you staying here?”

“I can’t let the others handle this on their own, Rex’s orders,” he shrugged. “As much as Kaller sounds like so much fun,” he was being sarcastic.

“We’ll catch up later, brother,” Echo clapped Fives on the shoulder before opening the door to the hallway.

“When you’re back on rotation, you owe me a night at 79’s!” Fives fitted his helmet back on and started off in the direction of the medical wing.

“Sounds like a plan!” Echo yelled after him.

“So, Kaller?” You asked, feeling a little trepidation.

“Shaak Ti informed us that the council needs us to infiltrate a secret base on Kaller to retrieve the research on this mystery drug. I know you’re probably worried about getting involved in this again, but I don’t know what else we can do,” Hunter sighed, knowing this topic was still sore for the both of you.

“It’s fine, Hunter,” you nodded, “My anxiety about this drug is nothing compared to the damage it does, which is far more important to stop.”

You got flashes back to that poor clone under its insidious influence. This had to be stopped.

“Pip obviously is going nowhere near that drug and risk getting exposed,” Tech asserted. The others agreed.

“But what about you guys?” You worried as you all made it to the docking bay. “What do we do if you get exposed?”

“We lock ourselves up in the brig,” Crosshair pointed out, “Just like we did with Hunter, until it wears out. The side effects are much worse for an omega than an alpha.”

You shivered, remembering the sharp pain of Hunter’s blade in your shoulder.

“Okay,” you acquiesced. It’s not like you could go against orders anyway. No matter how scared you might be.

“Kaller here we come!” Wrecker laughed.

~~~

“This planet is soooo… cold,” you sighed, shivering as the hatch opened. Tech had found a cave in the side of an icy mountain where he landed the Marauder, keeping it out of sight and out of the elements.

You ran back inside to grab the GAR-issued snow coat lined with nexu fur. You pulled it on and zipped it all the way up to your chin.

“How are you not cold?” You jumped up and down, trying to warm up.

“Genetics,” Tech leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “Behave, alright?”

You chewed your lip. “If I feel like it.”

“Omega,” he warned, turning you around and pushing you into Crosshair. “Behave.”

You huffed before snuggling into the sniper. “You heard Tech. Be a good girl until we get back.”

“Okay,” you leaned up on your tiptoes to kiss him. He smiled, melding his lips with yours.

“Bye Pip!” Wrecker came over, shoving Crosshair away from you before picking you up and hugging you. “We’ll be back!”

“I know, big guy!” You smiled. “Please, be careful.” You were obviously worried.

“We’ll be okay,” Hunter collected you from his little brother. “Radio in every thirty minutes, even if we don’t respond.”

“I know! I know!” You rubbed your scent on his chest plate. “Just like always.”

“Bye, Tiny!” Echo yelled as he descended the steps.

“Bye!” You yelped.

You watched the boys leave and the hatch close, leaving you in stark silence. You locked the access door. It’s been so long since you had been totally alone without one of them staying back with you. You almost didn’t know what to do with yourself.

Checking your datapad time, you knew they had two hours to complete this mission before you were allowed to start worrying for real.

You wandered around the ship a bit, looking for something to clean or organize. Deciding you’d take a crack at the surplus supplies, you waltzed into the back of the ship where the brig was down below. You slid down the ladder, landing with a thud in the dark underbelly of the Marauder. This is where you kicked on the lights and decided to get to work sorting and organizing everything.

To make the time go by faster, you stole Crosshair’s datapad from his bunk drawer to play some of his rock music.

You’d checked in three times already, knowing you’d only have one more to go before they’d start making their way back. You had sorted through all of the surplus food, making sure to group the meals Layala had brought you guys by preference. You made sure to include everyone’s favorites along with little snack packs and dehydrated blue milk.

You were just about to start on the ammunition supply when you got beeped on your com.

“Havoc 6, come in,” Hunter’s voice startled you. You scrambled to turn down Crosshair’s music before radioing back.

“This is Havoc 6, Havoc 1, are you alright?” You asked, feeling your heart start to race and the hair stand up on your neck… something was wrong. You just knew it.

“We’re okay, but we found… a kid?” Hunter replied, “We got the research, we’re making our way back, there’s a change of plans.”

“A kid? What? Change of plans?” You stuttered into the com channel, “What are you talking about?”

“You’ll see when we get there, get the ship warmed up,” Hunter cut the line, and you scrambled out of the brig and up into the main cabin before jogging into the cockpit. You entered Tech’s special code before being able to begin the ignition process.

Just as you got the engines primed, you heard them approach and opened the hatch door.

They came jogging inside, helmets still on. You were looking at them a bit perplexed when a smaller figure followed them inside behind Crosshair.

“A pup?” You rushed forward, unable to stop yourself, before taking the little kid into your hands, sniffing and checking him for injuries. “W-where did you find him?”

“Hey, lady!” He swatted at you, making you back up. He scowled, smoothing down his robes. That’s when you realized he was a Padawan… You suddenly stood up and looked at the boys, putting your hands on your hips.

“Sorry, kid,” Hunter chuckled, “She’s a fussy little omega.”

“You’re an omega?” He asked, looking up at you with wide eyes.

“Where is his master!?” You instantly jumped on your unit, “Did you steal a Padawan?”

“As funny as that would be, no… we didn’t steal him,” Echo shook his head, taking off his helmet, “He found us.”

You turned to look at the kid, “Are you lost?”

He scoffed, “No, I’m not lost. I was sent to find reinforcements.”

“How old are you?” You were shocked this child was being battle-tested already.

“14,” he replied.

Your eyes softened, “He’s just a baby!” You growled, looking to your unit.

They just shrugged, “Hey, it’s not our fault what the Jedi do with their littles,” Wrecker defended.

“I’m not little!” He squawked, “And we really need help, so are you going to help us or what?”

“What’s your name, kid?” Echo asked.

“Caleb. Caleb Dume.”

“Where’s your master?” Hunter asked, and the pup handed him the coordinates.

“Alright, let’s go,” Hunter decided, and you just stood there flabbergasted.

“Relax, ‘Mega,” Crosshair tried to help you come to terms with this, “He’s a Jedi, probably could kick all of our asses if he wanted to.”

“That doesn’t make me feel better,” you sighed.

“He’s not your pup,” Crosshair reminded you, “It’s not your problem.”

You growled. Crosshair just smirked. You were fiercely protective, that was for certain.

You peeked your head around the sniper to look at Caleb, “Have you eaten anything, hun?”

“Stop mothering him!” Echo yelled from his seat.

“I can’t help it!” You shook your head before heading for your jump seat. Hunter eyed you.

“I’m alright, miss,” Caleb grabbed onto the side of the ship as Tech brought the Marauder up into the air.

You were not liking this situation. First the spice, and now the kid. Why can’t missions just go how they’re supposed to?

Tech expertly flew the ship not too far from where you were hidden in the mountains. He found a clearing just before all of the blaster fire in the distance.

As the ship touched down, you stood up to follow them, but they all turned around, pointing fingers at you, “Pip, stay on the ship.”

“Ugh! Fine!” You groused, going over to Tech’s seat, ignoring the itch to take care of the kid.

“Are all omegas like that?” Caleb asked, picking up his lightsaber from his belt.

“Pip’s extra mothering when it comes to pups,” Tech replied, adjusting his holovisor.

“Should have seen her on Ryloth…” Echo started telling Caleb the story when the hatch door closed, leaving you once again alone in the ship.

You let out a loud groan, spinning the pilot’s seat around. The primal need to make sure the kid was okay was eating you from the inside out. He was literally walking into a war zone. That goes against everything your instincts wanted.

“Don’t do it, Y/N,” you shook your head, spinning the chair again.

But when you slowed down the spin, you noticed Caleb had left behind his robe and something in you snapped.

The pup was going to be cold…

"Fuck this." You got up, snatching the robe and smashed the hatch opening. You knew your alphas were going to kill you, but you didn’t care. You could care after you knew the pup was okay. At least you grabbed the thigh holster and a spare pistol, strapping it to yourself before stomping down the steps and out into the snow-covered forest. As you neared the battlefield, you heard bullets flying and explosions in the distance. You went running, suddenly overwhelmed with instincts… you didn’t know why this was happening. This hadn’t ever happened to you before, not even with the little girl on Ryloth. Something was very, very wrong.

Your jog turned into a sprint as you dodged trees and jumped over fallen trunks.

Letting your omega instinct guide you, you appeared in the clearing, seeing the last of the droids being destroyed by the cunning skills of your unit.

"We got a problem," Crosshair’s voice rang out through their comms, "Pip left the ship."

"What?" Hunter whipped around, finding you wandering through the smoke, clearly looking for something in the literal middle of the battlefield.

"Kark," Echo cursed, "She’s looking for the kid."

"Omega…" Hunter growled into the com channel. You ignored him.

They started walking back over to you, looking angry as a pissed-off rancor as the smoke started to clear. Crosshair came sliding down the side of the icy hill, joining their little clique when you spun around, finding Caleb walking over towards you.

"Hey, Miss?" He gave you a kind smile.

"Hi," you said, looking around a bit dazed.

"Are you okay, miss?" He asked, walking up to you.

"Y-yeah, I just had to make sure you were okay," you shook your head, starting to come back to your senses.

"I’m okay," he nodded, "Thanks to your friends."

"You left this behind," you handed him the brown robe, which he happily took and put on, shaking off the chill in the air.

"Y/N!" Hunter’s roar cut through the war zone.

"Kark," you sighed, closing your eyes.

Caleb giggled, pulling up his hood.

"I gave you direct orders to stay on the ship!" Hunter was so mad, "Then you run out into a literal battlefield. You could have been killed!"

"I-I’m…" you struggled to get the words out as the hair on the back of your neck stood up.

Turning around, you saw the master Jedi step up out of her trench, only to ignite her saber as her captain turned on her.

"Master!" Caleb screeched, igniting his saber and running towards his master. You couldn’t help but run after the pup despite your alpha’s roars of disapproval. Caleb suddenly stopped, realizing that his master was outnumbered.

"Run, Caleb!" She screamed, taking the brunt of the fire.

You flung yourself over the pup just in time to dodge a plasma bullet. Caleb was reacting much faster than you. When he looked up to see the 99’s jogging towards you two guns in hand, he quickly grabbed onto your wrist and started dragging you into the woods with him, running for your lives.

"Caleb!" You yelped, running with him.

"They’ve turned!" He said, jumping over branches. He was much faster than you, but you tried your best to keep up, "The clones can’t be trusted."

"What?" You were gasping for air, starting to feel the fatigue.

"I can feel it," he said, weaving left, trying to throw anyone off your trail.

A plasma bullet went whizzing by your head before exploding into a nearby tree. You both were forced to halt your sprint in the crunchy snow.

"Maker Crosshair, you could have hit her!" Echo growled, knocking the sniper’s gun out of his hand.

"Stop running, kid!" Hunter called out to the two of you.

Caleb just stepped in front of you, igniting his saber, "Stay back!"

They stopped their approach. You were beyond confused.

Crosshair kept his weapon trained on the kid while the others tried their hardest not to come off as intimidating.

"It’s okay, Caleb," Hunter said, putting his gun away and keeping his hands up in the air, "We just want to help you."

Crosshair decided then he would take the shot. You watched in horror as the blue plasma blast soared through the air, and Caleb skillfully deflected it, sending it back into the trees. You screamed and grabbed the kid, curling your body around him on instinct. You knelt in the snow, shielding Caleb from your alphas.

You heard shouting, then you heard firepuncher go off again, but this time the blast missed wildly. You flinched at the sound of it exploding into nearby rocks. You cradled Caleb's head like a mother would, keeping him pressed to you safely.

When you dared to look behind you, you saw Hunter and Crosshair wrestling in the snow while Tech held firepuncher, keeping it away from his little brother.

"Good soldiers follow orders," Crosshair repeated over and over again as Hunter demanded to know why the hell he would shoot at their omega and the kid.

Wrecker tried to approach you, but you let out the nastiest snarl you could muster, flashing your fangs at him.

He just put his hands up, staying at a comfortable distance.

"They’re coming," Caleb said, holding onto your shirt.

"Who?" You asked.

"The other clones," he said, "We have to go, now!"

"I can’t," you felt tears start to shed as your instincts were ripping you in half. You wanted to protect the pup, but the other part of you needed to be with your alphas.

"They’re not who you think they are… not anymore," he warned.

"I can’t leave them," you bent down, picking up his lightsaber and handing it to him. You smoothed down his hair and looked the child in the eyes, "You need to run. You need to stay alive."

"What about you?" He asked, looking at your fighting unit.

"They won’t hurt me," you nodded.

He just stood up, looking skeptical before looking into the tree line where approaching noises were coming from.

You gave the child a nod before he turned and sprinted off into the woods, disappearing into the snowy wilderness. You heaved in the snow, feeling like you failed somehow.

"Omega?" Tech asked, slowly approaching you, hoping you wouldn’t snap.

You refused to face them, feeling your tears slide down your hot cheeks, "What the fuck just happened?"

Ruh Roh... it's imperial Crosshair time...

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

Taglist: @substantial-exposure

@rains-on-kamino

@minimissmoo

@z-and-the-batboys

@aynavaano

@9902sgirl

@sideofhorny

#crosshair #hunter #tech #wrecker #abo #echo #star wars #bad batch #omega #smut #tbb #rut #heat #fanfic #au #tbbhunter #tbbcrosshair #tbbwrecker #tbbecho #tbbtech

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wgwingguns · 3 days

Text

Chapter 2: The Shipwright's Brig and It's Captain

Powers: (Y/n) has powers of the Sut Sut No Mi. The Step Step Fruit. Which allows the user to walk on any surface and in mid air. Summary: (Y/n) Shristi also known as Captain Brig, a well known underground shipwright, has her own huge ship that harbors up to 8 other ships in docks that allow’s her crew to fix up other pirate ships that are in need of fixing or upgrades. (Y/n) who was a student under Dr Vegapunk for 8 years, after a tragic incident that caused her to lose both arms and legs. Dr Vegapunk took her in, gave her arms and legs prosthetics to allow the girl to walk and still be an adventurous teen, there (Y/n) learned and became a brilliant scientist and inventor. Back to the present where her mighty ship and mighty crew full of shipwrights, come across two struggling men in the sea, and then a whole crew and their ship split in half and in parts of their beloved vessel floating in the ocean…The Heart Pirates, and the Kid Pirates…How strange. Note: So this is after Law and Bepo escape Blackbeard, and Kid and his crew is fucking decimated from Shanks. Enjoy lovelies!! This is def not following the canon events-

WC: 4.5k

Fire, blood, pain. The buildings around abalzed, screams filling the air, men shouting and laughing. Laying there in pain crushed underneath burning beams. Unable to move, both legs and arms numb with no feeling. Her left blue eye looked around, blood seeping from her right eye unable to close fully due to a shard of wood embedded into her eye. Why can’t she just die and have all this pain go away? All that her family and village was doing was celebrating…then the damned marines had to ruin their fun. Turning her head to the side to see her parents laying motionless in the rumbles of use to be home, then down to her arm where a huge beam smashed into her arm like a pancake. All she could do was let the tears roll down her cheeks and hope to die, her throat sore and hoarse with screaming and calling out for help, now all that came out was strained air. She just wanted to die. She wanted the pain to end.

Finally the light appeared before her, and she closed her eyes accepting the light coming forward, finally to be at peace, no more worries, no more sadness and greif, no more pain. Hearing footsteps quickly approach, she didnt care. She slowly slipped away into the light where there was no pain.

She walked through the halls of the Labophase, following close behind Dr. Vegapunk. Passing by a room, the door slightly ajar, looking in only being able to see someone with lavender hair. But she didnt pay too much mind to it, looking forward to quickly picking up her pace to keep close to Dr. Vegapunk. Reaching her hand out to his, he would take it gladfully looking up at her with a soft smile. “My little Inventor Brig, someday you will be able to sail again, like your parents did. Imagine all the things you could do with that little smart head of yours!” he would coo up to the young adult holding his hand, following him like a little duckling with its mother. All she could do was smile softly. “Someday my little inventor, someday you will be the greatest inventor and sail across the whole world and Grandline. I just know you will!” He would laugh, and all she could do was just giggle softly at her mentor’s words.

“Maybe Dr Vegapunk, maybe.” (Y/n) would smile softly, towering over her mentor, her silt feet tapping against the tiled floor as she walked, and her cool metal hand meeting the warmth of her mentor’s hand. She saw him like her own father, and she would do anything for him.

Both Kid pirates and Heart Pirates are already up and in the galley with Angus and Yael eating breakfast. They were there later so they didnt have to deal with the large crowd of people in the galley so they could talk with one another.

“So Yael what are the plans today?” Bepo would spueak looking over at Yael. Yael would simply turn her head over to Bepo with some food dripping from the corner of her mouth. Bepo couldnt help but chuckle at Yael’s antics.

“Well, besides the rest of your crew, joining up with the other shipwrights, you two caps and your best men are going to be going into the warehouse to meet cap today after we show you around the ship.” she would talk with her mouth full, wiping the corner of her mouth of some food, then with a big gulp swallowing her food happily.

“Fucking finally! You keep fucking talking about your Captain but hardly say shit about them..” Kid would grumble, taking a bite of his food. Yael would just chuckle.

“We have our reasons.” Angus would hum softly as he would finish off his food, shoving the last piece of his pancake into his mouth. Killer would watch this man with such intrest, such a large man that everything about him screams to be a beast of a man, but yet such a teddy bear.

Soon with breakfast coming to a close, they would all take their plates, bowls, and cups to the dish drop. Killer's eyes made contact with the same white haired woman from yesterday. She quickly pulled the dishes onto a loading cart, her eyes meeting his, only giving Killer a soft nod before rushing back towards the kitchen. Angus and Yael lead the way out through some doors, and heading down a long hallway with many doors on the sides of them, soon opening a large door, and sunlight filled into the small hallway. Walking out one by one, they would be awestruck by the sight before them.

A huge deck in the shape of a U, with four docks on each side, 8 in total. Three large main masts with crows nests ontop of each one. The deck flooded with men, women, and non-beanies running around doing their chores. Children ran on all four with rags in their hands as they cleaned the deck having fun. A ship docked in the middle inner of the U shaped boat. This ship was MASSIVE. Not as big as the Gran Tesoro but definitely a large scale ship. The ship was a beautiful mix of browns and some gold and silver accents to it. Kid’s and his commanders, including Law’s and Bepo’s eyes were large and marveled by the sight.

“Holy shit! Who fucking built this ship?!” Kid would snap his head towards Yael and Angus who were just laughing at their shocked faces.

Angus would smile pointing to what seemed to be a warehouse at the end of the inner part of the u. “Cap Brig did and quite a few of us aswell. But with Brig’s science and technology, it definitely made the ship go by faster, still took 3 years to build.” Angus would chuckle.

“ONLY THREE FUCKING YEARS?!” Kid’s eyes looked like they were going to bulge out of his eye sockets. Yael couldn’t help but break out into a roaring laughter, tears escaping from the corner of her eyes. Kid was so astonished that only their captain and a few others built this massive ship in three years. But the fact that they say that Captain Brig has technology that sped up the process by alot was also intriguing. Law’s eyes were just wide as he looked around, and this stunning massive ship, the crew though seemed happy and unbothered, enjoying their lives, working hard making sure the ship was nice looking that everything was working properly with no loose ends. Law himself was just impressed as well. Bepo’s eyes shining with amazement looking around at this new environment.

“Now, now, come! How about we go see Captain Brig now, hmm?” His Rosey cheeks present with a large smile, his arms and hands resting on his hips as he looks at the guest crews. All they could do was nod, still eye candying the ship that they were on. They would begin to make their way up the stairs to the upper deck of the ship. Small buildings all around with signs on the doors with various metals, woods, and more. Supply sheds. They would head towards a small building with the words ‘Wearhouse 2’ above a pair of heavy swinging metal doors.

Inside was a small group of 3 women and 4 men seemingly to be working on a boiler. Law's eyes would widen upon looking at it, it was the Polar Tang's boiler that they were working on. A woman would be hammering out the dents in the metal of the boiler along with a man. The others putting mechanical pieces together and talking with one another. One of the men would peek up seeing Angus, Yael, and the visiting crew. “Angus, what brings you here?” The man would question tilting his head.

Angus would wave his hand heading towards another pair of heavy metal doors on the other side of this small wearhouse. “Taking the guests to go meet Cap!”

The man would nod his head looking back at what he was working on. “I will warn you, Cap was saying some pretty nasty shit earlier and now there's just loud music that can be heard from in there. Guess Cap is having a hard time with The Victoria.” The man would huff softly while screwing a piece together. He was right. They could hear the booming music playing now, and the distance muffled sounds of metal clanging.

“Thanks Path!” Angus would nod his head. Yael quickly made her way over to the new pair of double metal doors, and when swinging them open, the loud music would fill the smaller wearhouse. “Fuck I guess she really is mad.” Angus would laugh making his way in with Yael. Kid and his commanders followed hot on their trail at the mention of their ship beyond these doors. Law and Be possible stood there for a moment watching the men and women working on the boiler. Law could immediately tell they knew what they were doing, and they were doing it with precision and care, but Law would quickly go along with Bepo joining the Kid Pirates, Yael, and Angus.

Walking into the larger wearhouse, music loudly blasting, it was a sight before their eyes. Two huge cranes with chains and ropes holding the split in half Victoria in the air, along with two huge robotic claws holding the ship as well. Loud clanging in the corner of the wearhouse, as sparks were seen flying from welding. Stopping as a loud crash happens, and the a loud curse of a female “YOU'VE GOT TO BE FUCKING KIDDING ME! I'VE WELDING THIS PIECE OF SHIT OF METAL FIVE TIMES ALREADY! GOOD FUCKING PROPS TO WHO MADE THIS SHIT! JUST FUCKING GREAT!! MOTHER FUCKING BASTARD OF A FUCKING RETARDED FUCK WHO DOESN'T KNOW SHIT!” suddenly a large piece of metal would go flying and crash near the group that just walked in. Law, Bepo, Kid, and his commanders quickly backing away from where this sheet of metal is now gouging into the wall and floor. Though Angus and Yael didn't even move or flinch, just smirks on their faces. Kid's eyes wide with hearing such a colorful mouth from a woman no less.

“Yep she's mad alright!” Angus would boast, barely even being heard over the loud country music. Suddenly the shadow or a woman spiriting across over to a huge pile in the corner of the room full of metal quickly digging through, one finding a good sheet of metal would make her way back over to where the welding parts were. Quick sounds of hammer banging, and then sparks of welding once again came to a stop once again. Suddenly they would see the woman in full. 6’9, prosthetic metal arms with glowing yellow cores in the middle, prosthetic silt legs as well, a white lab jacket over her tall slender frame stained from rust, oil, and maybe blood. These sunglasses like goggles on her face covering her eyes, but her brown hair fading into a red, and the same classic black shirt, and brown overalls with the Jolly Roger presented on front with a tool belt over her waist. A strange red tattoo on the left side of her face near her ear. But this lady had gauges, pricings, and sharp teeth presented in a wicked grin of hers. As suddenly jumping into the air, she walked through the air towards The Victoria suspended in the air.

Stopping before she would slap the piece of metal onto a inner beam of the ship, taking out some nails from her tool belt and placing them in their places that she needed them. With ease she would back away grabbing what seems to be a large hammer with a very short handle, until swinging it, it would extend, and hitting it against the nail. With one heavy hit from the hammer and one hard hit the nail was fully in with ease. But she continued with a swift and smooth pattern, she would hit each nail with every hit. Then after a good few more swings, the nails are perfectly straight and perfect.

“Captain!” Yael would shout but the music was too loud, as the female was still in her own little world checking over her work. Yael would sigh “Angus! Do the thing!” Angus would sigh looking around finding a bolt on the ground picking it up and chucking it at the supposive captain.

Right about the nut was about to hit her, her hand would fly out quickly, the metal hand catching it with ease crushing it. As the female's head would turn to look at the group, the sunglasses goggles covering her eyes as she stared them down. Dropping the crushed bolt to the ground below her, she would reach up a hand to her glasses pushing them up with a finger to rest on her forehead. Her blue and yellow eyes staring down as she looked at them with a quirked eyebrow. Then pushing a button on her hand, the music would suddenly stop. “The fuck you want” she would speak.

“Cap, guests!” Yael would shake her head with a devious smile on her face. The female captain's eyes would turn to look at the guests. Standing up and suddenly stepping down through the air towards the group then landing on the ground in front of Kid. Her tall frame looked down at him. Her head would tilt to the side glaring daggers at him.

“So you're the captain of th-” Kid would try to speak till the woman would hold her hand up to his lips shushing him.

“Shut your fucking mouth… do you know how fucking broken you ship is?!” She would snap at him, Kid's eyes would widen. “The fucking fact that you have old rotting wood, broken beams, nails not where they should be! And not to fucking mention your ship is in fucking half!” She would yell towering even more over Kid. Killer would quickly make his way pulling his friend away before he could snap back. Angus would pull away the female.

“Captain Brig, calm please. He wasn't intending for this to happen.” Angus would speak hushed, as Brit's eyes full of rage slowly softened while looking at Kid without fear.

“Fine.. You're lucky that your ship is one of a kind and designed beautifully or I would have your head as decoration… “ she would scoff, turning away. Kid’s eyes were full of rage and curiosity of this woman. This was the Captain of this beautiful large scale ship? Law watched the scene before him. “Anyways, pleasure to meet you all the name is (Y/n) or known as Captain Brig. You all can just call me Brig.” she would sigh, dipping her head towards the group in greetings. Now noticing her accent had a southern accent to it, the accent strong but smooth. Law couldn’t help but look at her arms, and legs, the metal a dark grey with glowing pale yellow lights in some parts. The stilts for her feet, noting some small thrusters on the back of where her calves would be. More than likely used to make her run faster when needed. But another fact was, how did she walk through the air when there were no surfaces for her to walk on. Was it the small thrusters on the back of her calves or was it some sort of power like a devil fruit? Only saying a question could answer that.

“Miss Brig, we thank you for your hospitality. Now if you wouldnt mind answering a few questions for me?” Law would quip up, his amber eyes looking up at the tall captain. Brig’s eyes would snap towards Law, crossing her arms over her chest as she stared down the doctor. Her cold hard eyes would send slight shivers down his spine upon a look like that from such a woman.

“Sure.” was the only thing she would quip back at him. Those eyes of hers not easing up one bit.

“How did you exactly walk through the air? There are no surfaces that I see for you to walk on. By the looks of it, you have small thrusters on your calves. So did you use those to walk through the air or do you have devil fruit powers?” Law wouldn’t tear his gaze away from the cold stare she was giving him.

“Devil fruit. The Sut Sut fruit. It allows me to walk, run, sit, and lay on any surface of my choosing. That Includes water and air.” she would raise a brow now her own curiosity peaked.

“Intresting. Other than that, how long will it take for you to fix mine and Kid’s ships?” Law would flash almost a smug smirk on his face seeing that he caught Brig’s curiosity.

“Hmm…Well with your boiler of your ship almost being finished as is, the framework though is going to take a while. Your ship partially imploded once it hit a certain depth.” Law’s eyes would widen. “But doesnt mean im not up to the task of fixing it, cause I know I can fix it. But on a rough but good estimate for both of your ships…about another week give or take. At most two weeks.” A smile would finally start to spread across her face, the excitement of fixing these wonderful interesting ships, and getting them up and going and maybe seeing if she can do upgrades for them. Finally her eyes are not cold anymore but determined and almost have a light spark to them.

Kid would grumble quietly hoping that Brig wouldn't hear. Killer would nod his masked head, “Thank you we greatly appreciate your help in fixing our ship. We will do anything for you while we wait for our ships to be fixed, and once done we will leave, and hopefully sometime in the future run into you again and pay you back.” Killer would sigh thankfully at Captain Brig’s words. She would simply smile, nodding her head at Killer.

“The pleasure is all mine. Angus and Yael will ask you what your best attributes are, and you all will be set in different places to help around as payment for now.” (Y/n)’s smile now a gentle and endearing smile instead of the cold stature she had moments ago. “Now excuse me, I must continue to work on your Victoria cause fucking hell it won't fix itself.” she would chirp happily, as turning back around and with quick steps, back into the air she goes towards the Victoria, reaching her hand up tapping a button on her hand again the loud music continuing from where it stopped.

Angus would motion for them to follow, and they would do so, Wire though couldn't help but stare back at the Captain of this ship with such marvel. A ferocious but caring understanding woman. Wire turned his tall frame back towards where the others were headed, and he would quickly follow, catching up.

Kid was assigned helping with fixing machinery, Killer was assigned in the kitchen, Heat and Wire was assigned in helping make sure the sails and the ship was clean. Law and Bepo were assigned to help in the medical bay.

Kid was having the time of his life talking with other tinkers while talking about how he could help them, as well as giving him some time on things. For once, Kid wasn't snapping back at people. Killer was enthralled to work with people who knew how to cook. He also learned that the white haired lady was the second in charge of the kitchen, her name being Umai comically enough. Both of them got along with one another quite well, having the same interest of wanting to hide their faces due to being insecure about their faces. Wire and Heat had fun getting to know the shipwright crew that they were working with, some of them being kids who marveled at Wire's height and Heat's scars. Law and Bepo felt like they were in heaven with the amount of medical supplies they had on this ship. Yael, also being the doctor and herbalist of the ship would just cackle at their faces, upon seeing how much stuff they had, and items that would also help with injuries.

Time would fly as they did their business, helping the shipwright crew with their daily business and chores. Soon in the distance, kinda muffled, the lunch bell would ring twice. Everyone would begin to make their way to the galley to eat.

Kid's crew would sit at one end of the many tables, and on the same table at the other end was Law's crew. Already food piled onto their plates as they began to eat and talk with one another of how everything was going with their respective assigned jobs at the moment.

“Fuck man! When I tell you I have never been this rock hard then ever before, well i fucking am! It's so fucking nice to geek out about shit with other people for fucking once.” Kid would laugh loudly. Killer would roll his eyes under his mask, his shoulder shaking a bit saying that he's laughing quietly.

“Not the rock hard part, but I agree. The cooks in the kitchen are all very nice and welcoming. They definitely know what they are doing.” Killer would slurp some of his noodles through his mask.

Law on the other side of the table hearing this would roll his amber eyes, shaking his head softly. Though he did have to agree with Killer. Yael knew a lot of stuff and was glad that he and Bepo got to learn some new things today from Yael. Everything about everyone on this ship knew what they were doing and seemed to do everything with a passion.

Though Law's mind would go back to (Y/n). Thinking of how she lost both of her legs and arms to have the need for prosthetics. Who built her prosthetics? Did she perhaps build them herself? How has she managed to be under the World's government knowledge for so long, not a single peep about the Shipwright Pirates. So many questions spiraled around in his head while he ate. Bepo was talking to Shachi and Penguin about what Yael had shown him and Law in the medical bay. Penguin and Shachi got to help around on deck making sure everything was clean and tidy with a small group consisting of a few kids, teens, and some adults.

Yael would stroll past their table, Law's and Bepo's attention turned towards her as she walked toward the grand staircase headed towards where Grid's wearhouse was. A plate in her hand, and repeating what she did the other day, hitting the metal doors with her foot, slowly the huge metal doors ever so slightly opening, and the same metal hand reaching out grabbing the plate and receding back through the door as it closes. Yael would quickly make her way back over to the table where the two crews sat, sitting in between Law and Kid. Setting down her own plate full of food she would begin to dig in eating it like an animal.

Kid would glance over at her with wide eyes, this woman herself is definitely beating him by how fast and animalistic she was eating her food. She must always be hungry…remind him of a stupid monkey of an emperor. Kid would shake his head turning his attention back to his food to continue to eat happily and being in his own world while talking with his commanders.

Then all peace and comfortable loud speaking in the mess hall would come to a close and the loud panicked bells ringing. Everyone eating would freeze quickly getting up and rushing out of the messhall leaving their plates of food on the tables. Yael choked on her food coughing then hitting her chest violently trying to help her catch her breath. Law seeing everyone panic leaving the messhall quickly he would look over to Yael with a concerned look in his amber orbs. “Yael what's going on?”

“The alarm bell! We have marines on us! Quickly up! UP!” she would scream as she would get up rushing out towards the door that leads to the deck. The Heart Pirates and the Kid pirates would share a look with one another before quickly standing and following after Yael quickly.

Rushing down the hallway to the deck, emerging out onto the deck they would see the shipwright pirates rushing around getting the cannon’s ready, the smaller ship that belongs to the shipwrights, slowly being hauled up into the air by large chains and rope so now the inner part of the ship was empty. “Find your groups that you were with earlier! Get with them and ask them what you need to do! We are going to need all the help we can get! Law Bepo you are with me!” She would turn heading towards the stairs that led to the upper deck where the Helm was. Angus is already up there talking with some of the Helms men and women.

Yael with Law and Bepo following close to her, keeping up with her, they would get onto the helms deck. “How many Marines do we have on us?” Yael would run up to Angus asking quickly.

“We have three sinkers!” Angus would yell while then barking orders at helms men and women. Sinkers? Law would then look over to where Angus was pointing for Yael to see the marine ships. They were large scale Marine ships, but not as big as the Shipwright’s Brig. So they must have code names for different types of marine ships, which was actually pretty genius then giving the marines credits for calling them their actual names. “Turn hard port! We need to face them head on!” Angus would cry out angrily. It had been months since they last had their run-in with marines.

“What are you going to do? If you go down the middle of them you will get sunk!” Law would turn his head towards Angus, what they were doing was something really sketchy that could sink their large lucious ship.

“Dont worry, we know what we are doing! There is a reason no one knows about us yet!” Angus would laugh, as suddenly the sounds of huge metal doors were opening, looking down he would see the huge door’s to the warehouse opening. Suddenly a long metal track would start to extend down the middle of the ship to the very tip of the ship. Suddenly sounds of things coming to life as suddenly this large scale cannon would zoom out, and ontop of this cannon was (Y/n) with a vicious wide smug grin on her face. Violence and a crazed look to her eyes.

What the hell were they doing now?

Tag list: @h0n3y-l3m0n05

#x reader #one piece x you #one piece x reader #kid pirates #eustass kid #killer #ocs #heart pirates #trafalgar law #bepo #penguin one piece #shachi #shipwright #fanfiction #woah a long chapter!#bad ass bitch #kid pirates x reader #heart pirates x reader #a little moment with wire our husbando

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wesleysniperking · 2 months

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25 things I remember and tell myself when it's tough to support Usopp in a shonen world.

1. If Usopp had a solo movie, it would make up for his lack of screen time.

2. If When Elbaf is his moment to shine, it can absolutely counter everything haters say he lacks. Usopp is fabulous regardless; he just doesn't see it himself.

3. I'm not sure why other fans get mad when people defend their favorite character. If an Usopp fan sees a comment like "Usopp needs to go die in a hole," it's natural to respond. Insulting someone's favorite character invites a reaction.

4. Usopp is awesome and has nothing to prove.

5. There's a beauty in retrospect. I believe he'll receive better reception by the time I'm using a walker. Yesterday's taboos are today's norms.

6. You can't take away Usopp's sniping abilities. He may be called the weakest, but no one can deny he's the best sniper. Look at his dad.

7. I believe people have forgotten storyteller Usopp, especially when they don't understand why Elbaf is significant.

8. If Usopp doesn't get his moment in Elbaf, fans will be justifiably upset. Franky's Egghead and Zoro's Wano arcs had different build-ups. Who's the outlier here?

9. Saying Usopp doesn't have Observation Haki is the dumbest thing haters say. Even non-canon reminds us that he has it. Some are just mad that he got it.

10. I don't understand how someone can passionately hate Usopp and how he's written without blaming Oda. Criticizing Usopp's writing implies Oda's done some bad writing, which is okay! No one is perfect.

11. Of all the reasons Usopp is hated, the Wano situation where he told Nami to lie is the most frustrating to defend. It genuinely beats out Water 7.

12. Usopp is the most flawed Straw Hat in the fandom's eyes. I compare him to King David a lot, especially since David is considered a warrior king who fought Goliath and was heavily flawed, yet God still loved him. Like King David, who was one of God's favorites because he had a good heart and held no pride, Usopp isn't as prideful, arrogant, or selfish as he seems. He doesn't even lie that much. People wonder why Luffy let Usopp join; it's because Luffy, like God with David, sees a good heart with no pride in Usopp.

13. Whatever happens, flaws and all, Usopp will always be my favorite.

14. I don't understand how fans can talk so badly about Usopp. Yes, people find him grating and irredeemable. But neglecting a humanist approach is scary. If you can't tolerate a character like Usopp and put him down as weak, inferior, and irredeemable, something's wrong.

15. I might project onto Usopp, and he might be my comfort character, but I root for him and accept him for who he is. Recently, I thought I wouldn't pass my finance class at university but managed to get a B with enough grit and tenacity. Usopp faces that all the time!

16. If you're waiting for Usopp to "finally be brave," you might need to find another character. It's like picking a university degree; Usopp isn't for you.

17. Despite everything, Usopp is still awesome. No one will ever overshadow him to me. I'm all in with tunnel vision.

18. Usopp embodies the idea that the greatest are the least, and the least are the greatest.

19. 19. Usopp is only 19. People need to give him grace. At 19, I was still a kid!

20. If Usopp is such a bum, why do people remember him? How does he bring the crew down? Recently, there's nothing to suggest he's hindered the crew's success.

21. Sniper King doesn't need to come back. It annoys me when haters say he needs to return because they hate the current Usopp. It's a weird flex.

22. Yes, Yasopp isn't a good dad, but he's not the worst anime dad. It bothers me when people emphasize this to prove Usopp is a “bum” compared to his crewmates. It's unfair.

23. I believe Oda is saving something big for him. If I'm wrong, it will be devastating, but I'll find a way to defend it. I won't be alone.

24. Syrup Village is a goated arc. Usopp is the reason the crew got a ship.

25. Disregarding all agendas, ships, headcanons, theories, and projections, Usopp is still a character worth respecting and rooting for. This will be MORE evident 20+ years from now. Just wait.

usopp community I created. feel free to join. (still wip, but you can post anything!).

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penvisions · 9 months

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of beskar and kyber {chapter 12}

Pairing: Din Djarin x Force Sensitive! Reader (the Mandalorian x Force Sensitive! Reader)

Summary: The job Din took to get credits takes a turn for the worse, the crew turning on him in a way that insights your direct involvement. It leads to a heavy conversation between the two of you.

Word Count: 11k (holy crap!)

Warnings: sexual content (!!), dry humping, talk of sexual intimacy, talk of previous sexual experiences, talk of sexual boundaries, description of male and female bodies, orgasm, sexual innuendos, sexual teasing, description of injuries (brief), canon typical violence, fighting, use of blades / knives, description of being stabbed / cut, description of being impaled (!!), tense situations, stalking, san fights(!), unsavory characters

A/N: took a few liberties with episode six, i hope y'all don't mind! a few things were changed in order to accommodate san's presence. i hope y'all like this once, a lot of stuff happens but that seems to be the way these are gonna go as we pick up plotlines from the series! there's a BIG scene that i hope people enjoy, lemme know what you think, pls? i'm so nervous to move the story along in this way but it felt like the right moment for these two

ao3 link || series masterlist || main masterlist || kofi

You were quiet as you boarded the ship, thoughts buzzing into white noise that you couldn’t begin to decipher. This…this was a mess. This was far more complicated than a simple rescue of a man that had been taken by rivals. This was an elongated interaction with people from Din’s past and people who had no respect for him despite knowing nothing of him but stories from a time past.

Realistically, you knew it would be a different dynamic between you both with other people around, with going back to a routine of sorts for Din to collect credits and take jobs. Bound to be a harder living now, in the wake of his separation from the Guild. But the people he had sought out to work with? It was all too nerve-wracking, too risky. Ignoring the fact that one of his past involvements was a part of the crew assigned to the job, the issue that concerned you the most was that Mayfeld had once been Imperial.

He could’ve been one of the people sent after you, could’ve been one of the people informed of your survival, one of the people who could recognize you. And that, paired with the presence of the Child, was too risky for you. Tempting to pull Din aside as ask him to drop you both off somewhere to wait for him to complete this job. But even that could bring more attention to you, and you were frustrated to be in such a plight.

The sounds of Zero up in the control room filtered down into the hold and you shook your head to rid yourself of the dizzying thoughts that were taking over, consuming from the inside out. If the ship was a part of the job, there wouldn’t be any time to ask for alternative surroundings. You would have to deal with whatever was about to transpire head on, whether you were a part of the job directly or not. Your involvement was inevitable. The voices of the people you would have to endure for the next few rotations were a drone from just beyond the ramp.

The droid climbed down the ladder and walked past you without so much as a glance, but you could hear him speak as he descended the ramp toward the group gathered outside as they went over things.

“Despite recent modifications, the ship is still quite a mess.”

A few more moments passed before the group was entering the ship. As soon as you heard steps on the ramp, you quickly climbed the ladder and sealed yourself in your room. Standing before the crate Din had given you, you reached down to unclasp it and began to dig around. The rattling of your painkillers could be heard before your hands closed around the bottle.

“She’s not a part of the crew, she doesn’t need to know any details.” Xi’an’s trilling voice floated up from the hold and seeped through the open door that Din had just walked through.

“Bet she’d be a good lookout, sure put you in your place. Could be an asset if we get bogged down. Not too bad on the eyes either.” The countering voice of Mayfeld sounded before the door hushed shut, drowning out Xi’an’s heated next words. It allowed for their voices to become muffled and when you didn’t look up from where you kneeled in front of the crate a sigh fell from Din.

“Talk to me.”

“I don’t have anything to say right now, other than that this is a bad idea.”

“I didn’t know she was still a part of the crew.” You pulled the bottle from beneath the clothes it had been under, still not looking over toward his armored form close to the door.

“She’s not the problem, not the only one anyway.” You grumbled as you tried to get the cap off the bottle, but your hands were shaking. “He’s Imperial, do you have any idea the kind of danger that puts me in, that puts ad’ika in?”

“He’s some front line soldier, the chances of him knowing about-“

“It doesn’t matter!” You pushed up quickly, turning to face him, pills forgotten. “There’s still a chance!”

“Did you even think this through before you contacted Ran?”

“Of course I did.”

“D-“ You clenched your fists, trying to keep your emotions in check, trying not to say his name aloud should anyone overhear. Pinching the bridge of your nose to stem off the headache that was forming, you decided to be completely honest with him, to tell him that he was being reckless. “Mando, you didn’t. You have a child aboard the ship.”

“And I will protect him at any cost. Protect you at any cost.” He regarded you quietly, taking in the way you slammed the crate closed and began to pace back and forth in the small space. You were wound up, the clasps on the trunk tinkling as they vibrated, his eyes glancing at them and then toward your clenching hands. The energy flowing off of you was palpable and for a second, he was in awe of the natural way you manipulate it without even thinking. You had forgone hiding your powers in favor of giving Xi’an the same treatment she had treated you with, it had been rather telling of your emotions to push back against her so easily. “I didn’t know they’d need the ship.”

“I-I don’t like this. It’s too much of a risk.”

“I understand that you’re afraid-“

“Of course I’m afraid! My entire fucking life has been thrown off by the Empire and one of the people who served for them is aboard the ship!”

The errant items around the room were floating in the air with the energy from your emotions. You didn’t even notice you had been causing it until Din stepped closer to you and reached out for you. You glared at him and before you could say anything, he was gripping your face in his gloved hands and stooping in low to peer directly at you. The visor so close that you could see the reflection of your panicked eyes staring back at you. You looked so scared, face contorted in a concerning display.

“Please calm down, mesh’la.”

“You should’ve told me, before you contacted Ran.”

“I should’ve, I wasn’t- I didn’t think.”

“I know it’s not my place, but-“

“You deserve a say, you have a say. I will heed anything you have concerns about.”

“Where are we going?”

The pause he took told you enough about the matter. You weren’t going to like it; with the way he was hesitant to inform you was all the answer you needed. His arms wrapped around your shoulders, gloves brushing the braid your hair was up in and pinned around the back of your head.

“A New Republic prison transport ship.”

“They have you breaking into a prison ship to free an inmate? Okay, that’s- Okay…do you want me to stay on the Crest or do you want me-“

“I don’t want you to do anything unless you want to do it. It’s up to you, mesh’la.” You guided his hands from around your body, gripping them tight with your own. With a questioning glint in your eye, you removed his gloves and tucked them into his utility belt. His hands rose to cup your face once again, eyelashes fluttering at the bare feel of them. His thumbs brushed your cheeks in a soothing motion.

“I would feel better being with you, I don’t trust them. And that’s not to say I don’t have faith in you, but…”

“I understand, I have faith in you too. I would like it if you were aboard the ship with ad’ika, but it won’t be taking off unless you and I are both back on board.”

“I…will stay, but you contact me the second anything goes awry. Promise me, please?”

“I swear to you.” He watched as you brought his hands up and pressed a gentle kiss to the skin of his knuckles. The modulator in his helmet crackled, the sound bringing a smile to your face as it revealed something about him. That he liked your touch on him, the affection you were giving him.

The visor stayed focused on you, but you were sure his eyes were traveling back and forth between your lips on his skin and shine of your eyes as they glinted with a promise.

Metal doors slamming open had you following right on Din’s feet, down the ladder and into the hold.

Burg was standing in front of the cabinet where Din kept most of his weaponry and supplies. It was right outside of his quarters, and your eyes trained on the control pad for it, checking that the lock was still engaged.

It had been an brief conversation that ad’ika would be kept away from the people aboard the ship. A worry about Xi’an and her knives along with concern about him getting overwhelmed and exposing his own powers. You could hold your own, should they decide to try and test you. Though the idling fear of them talking about the exchange between you and Xi’an was a low thrumming in the back of your mind.

With a press to his vambrace, the cabinet swiftly closed before the Devaronian could get his hands on anything. Mayfeld and Xi’an both looked over from where they were seated around the makeshift table as you stepped off the last rung of the ladder and stood beside the imposing figure of Din.

Burg huffed, a frustrated sound coming from low in his chest. He turned around to stand over Din, trying to intimidate him once again. As his hand flew out to mess with the controls closest to him, the one leading to the closed off quarters, you and Din both stepped forward, you move in front of the door, behind the tall man. At the contact of Din restraining Burg from moving any further, Mayfeld decided to jump in with repeated utterances of ‘hey and okay’.

“I get it. I’m a little particular about my personal space, too.” As he spoke, Din sidled around Burg, urging him away from the door. You stood your ground as Din stood beside you once again. “So let’s just do this job. We get in, we get out, and you don’t have to see our faces anymore.”

“Someone tell me why we even need a Mandalorian and his little shadow.” Burg rumbled as he stared you both down, unwavering in his direct contact.

“Well, apparently they’re the greatest warriors in the galaxy.” Mayfeld leaned back a little, raising his arms out. “So they say.”

“Then why are they all dead?”

You bristled internally at the hurled comment, the hairs on the back of your neck prickling up as you felt energy wash over you. The ill-mannered attitude and crack of a ‘joke’ sitting like lead in your stomach and heart. Too many of Din’s kind were gone, mostly wiped out. Those that prevailed, did so with such a vibrance for their way of life and continuation of religion and culture. While you may not be Mandalorian yourself, you had been rescued and cared for one in your darkest hour and for years after. Endless respect and admiration for your guardian and Din beside you stirring the need to protect.

You were about to take a step forward when you felt Din brush his hand against one of your own. Xi’an took notice of the small movement event as she laughed along with the guys and continued to balance the point of a knife on her outstretched hand. A hard tint to her eyes that hadn’t been there before.

“Well, you flew with him, Xi’an.” Mayfeld rolled his head to look over at her across the makeshift table they were both seated at. Clear, now, of your metal working tools and the armor you had been working on before anyone had boarded. “Is he as good as they say?”

“Ask him about the job on Alzoc III,” She turned her focus back onto the blade, ignoring the way you were standing guard over the doors still, how close you were to the armored man in question.

“I did what I had to.”

“Oh, but you liked it.” She spun the knife around to grip the handle, pointing a finger toward him from across the space, her voice hinting at something more. With a telling smile that allowed a glimpse of her sharp canines, her eyes flitted from his visor to you behind him and back. “See, I know who you really are.”

Her words were for you, though her eyes never left his figure. Taunting,

“He never takes off the helmet?”

“This is the way.” She mocked in a low timbre, bringing a closed fist to the front of her chest.

“I wonder what you look like under there.” Mayfeld pinned him with a look, something behind his eyes you weren’t too fond of. “Maybe he’s a Gungan.”

“You ever seen his face?”

Xi’an gasped, the sound drawn out and breathy as she caressed one of her lekku with a gentle hand.

“A lady never tells.”

She had to be lying, he wouldn’t have removed it for her. He wouldn’t remove it for anything, it was his sworn Creed. And yet, doubt painted your thoughts in a dark swath. Jealousy lit up ugly inside of you, making you question the tentative stepping stones you’ve already waded on. Made you feel inadequate in the face of seeking him out in such a way. Though he had done nothing to prompt the feelings himself, it was all based on her and her reactions. The intimidation you felt from her garnering negative emotions in the wake of rediscovering yourself and your own notions of things taken from your life and tainted in the worst way.

“What about you, surely you’ve been privy to it?” Mayfeld’s eyes found your own, a smirk pulling at his lips. You narrowed your eyes at him, not willing to play into his teasing with so much as a shake of your head. It was none of his business, none of anyone’s business but Din’s. The lack of respect they had for his way of life, his religion, his Creed was sickening. Their collected ignorance a telling sign that they didn’t care about anything that didn’t directly serve them. Then the insinuation of intimacy and the breaching of personal boundaries had your shoulders knotting tight, fingers tapping against your thigh.

“Aw, c’mon, Mando. We all gotta trust each other here. She trusts you, for whatever reason, what’d you have to do to gain that?”

“Do not incite her, in any matter.” The modulator crackled with the force of his words, as if they were being spoken in that dark voice through clenched teeth. You let him take the figurative step of telling them to control themselves, having worked with at least one member of their little quartet before. He knew better than you, what type of people Ran employed and kept in his company.

“You gotta show us something. Come on. Just lift the helmet up.”

Burg loomed closer, form so large in the space of the hold.

“C’mon, let us all see your eyes.”

At a small nod from Mayfeld, Burg reached out a hand with a confidence.

Din immediately slammed a hand over his wrist and pulled him forward, using the loss of the man’s momentum to shove him away. You stepped back, trying to stay out of the way. Burg quickly gathered his bearings and lunged, only to be kicked back into the small alcove beside the quarters. Trying to catch himself from falling on his back, Burg’s hands shot out and gripped the wall, fingers dragging over the controls for the door. They flew open behind you to reveal ad’ika standing atop the cot, face contorted and nervous.

He looked from you to Din, sounds falling from him that made no sense. Reaching out mentally, you tried to sooth him, to let him know everything was okay.

But everyone’s attention was on him, and it made him freeze in his spot.

“What is that?” Mayfeld wondered, unbridled excitement coloring his tone as he stood from his seat and began to move closer. You moved to block his view into the quarters, blocking ad’ika from the lingering stares as you felt panic wave off of his small form. One of his small hands reached out for you, and you felt your heart skip a beat.

Din didn’t move as Mayfeld walked past him, Xi’an rising from her seat behind him and following.

“You get lonely up here, buddy?” Mayfeld approached, peering over your shoulder with an intensity that unnerved you.

“What a minute, did you two make that?” He turned to Xi’an, close on his heels. Her curiosity getting the better of her in the moment.

“Don’t.” You said, reaching out a hand to keep him a few paces away.

“What is it? Like a pet or something?” He pestered, waving his hand up and around, watching the way large eyes followed the movement over your shoulder.

“Yeah, something like that.” Din finally spoke, though it wasn’t what you expected. He was trying to play this off, like it wasn’t a secret that had been unearthed. Hoping that the initial reaction would wane into one of indifference.

“No? Okay, what about you, is that thing yours?” Mayfeld’s eyes roved up and down your body, lingering in places they shouldn’t. “Bet it was a hell of a good time, making something like that. I wouldn’t mind a partner as submissive as you seem to be for him.”

“Watch it.” You growled, words forcing their way through clenched teeth. You could hear the crinkling of leather as Din did his best to keep his hands to himself, willing you to deal with the unsavory attention lest the entire job blow up. You closed your hand, feeling the energy around you and manipulating it, Mayfeld gasped as the air in his lungs was suddenly gone. He stopped trying to get ad’ikas attention and clawed at his throat. His face reddened as he struggled to breath but at a nod from Din you ceased the action.

“Didn’t take you for the type.” Xi’an moved into his personal space, face only a few inches from the front of his helmet. As if she wanted to touch him, her hands twitched at her sides. “Maybe that code of yours has made you soft.”

Quickly gathering breath back into his lungs, Mayfeld didn’t drop the teasing, though it was less direct.

“Me, I wasn’t ever really into pets. Didn’t have the temperament. But I’m thinking, maybe, I’ll try again with this little fella. Take him off your hands and babysit.” He tried to get around you, but you flung him back, his feet sliding across the durasteel flooring.

“Do not touch him,” Your entire body was alight with the instincts to protect, to hurt those invading personal space and boundaries time and time again in such a short window.

Zero’s voice broke the tension with the announcement of dropping out of hyperspace.

The ship lurched, jostling everyone with how rough it was.

The ship careened, gravity shifting from underneath you. Your stomach was in your throat, and you were reaching for the small being tossed from the cot. Your fingers just grazed the edges of his tunic as he flew past you. Your back knocked into the door frame, but you kept as quiet as you could, not wanting to draw any more attention to yourself. The Child cried as he landed harshly on the floor, right where Din had been thrown to his knees, barely able to catch himself from flattening completely.

As the ship landed and docked onto the top of the transport ship, stable for the time being, Din carefully cradled ad’ika in his arms and pressed him into your own. You curled your arms around him, sitting atop the cot and murmured soft words to him as he clung to you.

“That useless droid didn’t even give us a proper countdown.” Xi’an hissed as she straightened up herself, having been tossed over the makeshift table and across the hold.

“Alright, Mando, we’ve got a job to do.”

He stepped away from you, his visor lingering on you before he turned to face the watching group. As he did so, he pressed something along his vambrace, controlling the bottom panel of the ship and it opened up to reveal an entrance aboard the ship below. He connected a device to the seal of the entrance, the small screen blinking red in rapid succession. You watched as everyone exchanged looks, communicating something you weren’t privy to as they collected around him and peered down.

As soon as the device displayed a green screen, the entrance unlocked and opened with a hiss.

Disengaging the device, Din gathered up the cable and stepped aside.

“It’s me?” Mayfeld asked, looking around at the faces trained on him.

“Always you.” Burg announced, as if leading the job wasn’t something Mayfeld was quite used to. Didn’t know that it was his responsibility to lead in ways other than with his words. He lowered himself to the ground and took a cautionary glance into the space below. Deeming it clear, he braced his arms along something and dipped out of sight. Xi’an and Burg followed after him.

Din’s figure paused as he stood around the entrance, looking over to you for a moment. You were already watching him. You stood, closing the distance, adi’ka held close to your chest. Leaning up, you pressed your forehead to the front of the helmet in what was quickly becoming your greeting and farewell with the man.

“Keep in contact,” You spoke quietly, not wanting the others to overhear you despite them no longer being in the same space. He nodded once, before he jumped and disappeared through the opening.

Beeping sounded from your vambrace, alerting you of an incoming call. You quickly pressed the button to allow the audio transmission to filter through. You had been trying to distract yourself by working on the chainmail, something repetitive enough to keep your mind occupied while you waited for Din’s return or a communication from him.

“Sarad, I’m locked in a cell. They’re coming back to the ship.” A heavy sigh separated his announcement from the orders he gave next. “Take out the droid and put the ship on manual lockdown, make the settings ask for either your chain code or mine to operate. We have fifteen minutes until the Republic Army descends.”

You left all of your supplies and materials out in the open on the table and quickly checked on adi’ka, making sure he was secure in Din’s small room. You handed him a snack, hoping he would sleep with a full stomach and through whatever was about to transpire. Making your way up to the cockpit, you could hear Zero talking to the others.

“You have a potential problem. He has escaped.” Zero was announcing over the comm line as you silently entered the control room. You raised your saber in your hand, blade not yet engaged. You brought it down swiftly, bringing it to life and beheading the droid in a smooth motion. His voice box tittered and the entirety of his body sparked before he fell to the floor of the room.

You set the ship according to Din’s instructions and jumped down through the open space in the hold before you could catch your breath.

The lights were flickering, power being shut off and you could hear corridor walls slamming shut. The lights kicked back on, bathing the entire ship in eerie red hues. Closing your eyes, you focused on the situation at hand, centering your self before you began to move about the foreign ship.

As soon as you found an access point, you connected your vambrace to the source. You searched the stored files for a layout of the ship and downloaded the display. Holding it up, you began to run down the hallways, leading you toward where you could feel the presence of Din.

You comm sparked to life as soon as you rounded a corner.

“Xi’an is two turns away from you, mesh’la.”

“Copy that.”

You stayed one hallway behind her, keeping tabs on her and the path she was winding around the ship. A silent stalker she had yet to sense was just around the corner. You could only hope she would lead you toward Din, the hallways closed off every so often, creating a labyrinth. As she moved about, more would hiss shut behind or in front of her, as if guiding her toward her assailant in an unnerving way.

She suddenly stopped, turning and throwing three knives down the hallway you were just hovering on the edge of. Looking at the map displayed from your vambrace, you turned and decided to get ahead of her and take her down. Just as you heard her steps approaching your position, she whirled around and began flinging knives out. Din was an intimidating figure on the other end of the hall, she was trapped between the two of you. She tried to stave you both off, but it was clear she was better at throwing than direct defense.

Metal clanged as knives bounced off of Din’s armor, but one landed into the unprotected part of his shoulder, and he stumbled back. She advanced quickly, and they found themselves in a stalemate, his own knife held under her chin and one of hers at his inner thigh. She caught sight of you in the corner of her eye and with a smirk she plunged it deep into his leg. He shouted out in pain, leg weakening as blood discolored his trousers. She pushed off of him and charged at you, but you engaged your saber and rushed toward her.

She flung two knives at you, but you easily cut them in half and they fell to the floor.

“You think you’re so much better than me?” She snarled as she managed to swipe the back of your hand, saber slicing into her shoulder. She jumped back, trying to get some distance but you advanced, blade humming ominously. She hollered loudly, glancing away for the barest second back at where Din was kneeling on the ground and trying to shake the feeling back into his leg. “That he’s going to stay with you but he’s going to run, he’s going to run from you just like he did with me.”

“You’re nothing!” You didn’t bother rising to her taunts as you swopped the glowing blade low, jolting her back to avoid her ankles getting singed. But you had grazed her, the leather of her boots singed with a line that was smoldering. While her focus was down, she braced herself and her knees bent.

“You kriffing bitch!”

“Shut. Up.” You punctuated your words with swiped of the glowing blade to cut her belt from her. You kicked it away, standing unnervingly close to her and peering over at her with a glare. The pulsing energy from the saber lighting up your eyes to show her that you were so far beyond reasoning with. She lunged at your legs with a screech, but you flicked out a hand and she flew back a few yards.

She struggled but once her balance was her own, she was back up on her feet and jolted forward. The blade hummed as you moved against her, the singing of her shoulder pulling a guttural noise from deep in her chest and she ducked before crashing her body into your legs, causing you both to tumble to the ground in a tangle of limbs. The handle of your weapon flying out of your hand and clattering into the wall. The blade disengaged, but not before it cut a swipe into the metal.

Your back hit the floor hard, knocking the breath out of your lungs and you gasped. Vision blurring but you reached out and gripped the back of the headwear she wore. Jerking her back, you flipped to pin her face down. She groaned out, body sore from the rough motion. Her breath catching in her throat when you realized you had made good on your threat, back on the space station. One of her knives was gripped tight in your hand, held beneath her chin, blade chilling her skin where it pressed.

She used the hand that wasn’t pinned underneath her body to dig her fingers into the cut at your thigh, pulling a strangled grunt. You leaned back on your heels, trying to move far enough back that her hand fell away from you, bloodied and dripping. You panted as she twisted underneath you and shoved at your shoulders. Just as your back hit the ground a second time and she hovered over you, her legs pinning you down harshly. Crying out at the sting of a blade embedded in your shoulder. She forced it with both of her hands, digging it impossibly deep into the muscle.

You heard Din call out, could see him try to close the space between your two scrambling forms and his own.

Your other hand shot out, reaching out and the saber handle zoomed across the floor toward you. Past Din who was splashed red with dark blood.

Xi’an screeched at you as she tried to get a hold on your hair to slam your head into the ground.

But the second it was in your grip, you engaged it.

Everything fell silent save for the humming of it.

Errant blood escaping from the puncture bubbled and fizzled, rank smelling steam bursting into the air between you both. Her body fell limp above you, her middle catching on the hilt of the blade and she hung only slightly above you, unconscious. Shoving her from you and powering the weapon down, you scrambled up to your feet. You looked over her toward Din, seeing him holding a wide hand hard against his leg.

“Is she…?”

“No, I didn’t hit any major organs. She’ll need medical attention soon though, to avoid going comatose.”

“You need medical attention too, that’s a lot of blood.” You looked up from the splatter of it on the floor, up the expanse of his leg where it stained his trousers, to the dark visor of the helmet. Ripping the bottom of his cape off, you fastened it into a tourniquet around his thigh. He grunted as you tightened the knot around his muscle, wanting to ensure he didn’t bleed out.

He told you of his plan to leave them here, lock them in an empty cell to be found by those coming to the ships call for aid in the face of danger. To be caught and held responsible for their crimes.

“Qin” Din’s voice boomed across the hallway, the suddenness of him speaking since falling silent while set to the task of gathering the others into the very cell they had locked him inside. He motioned for you to stay back as he rounded a corner, his ripped cape swirling behind him as he calmly approached the man whose rescue this was all about.

“You killed the others.”

“They got what they deserved.”

The sound of an upset snarl was followed by the clicking of two blasters being drawn. Your heart stuttered, but you knew that Din had the situation under control.

“You kill me, you don’t get your money. Whatever Ran promised, I’ll make sure you get it, and more.” An argument of the most logical approach, knowing that he was overpowered and at a disadvantage. “Come on, Mando. Be reasonable.”

The clunk of a blaster being tossed to the floor calmed you a bit, your nerves loosening as you realized this was going to go easier than expected. Seems like the man knew all too well the capabilities Din possessed, perhaps someone else he had worked with in the past and didn’t want to be on the receiving end of his wrath. Reading the room and how upset he must be with how things turned out, with how quickly they had fallen into chaos.

“You were hired to do a job, right? So do it. Isn’t that your code? Aren’t you a man of honor?”

Unnerving laughter filled the air, making the hair on the back of your neck rise up.

But Din remained silent, unwavering, intimidating in his lack of engagement. You had experienced it firsthand, and it was easy to give into the stoic figure he made in his armor, the black stare of the visor as his helmet trained your every move.

“Board.” Was all he said, a hand signaling you to fall into step behind him.

“You’ve got yourself a little shadow, now that’s something new.” The twi’lek commented before he began to climb the ladder up into the Crest.

“Don’t engage with her, she took down Xi’an and she won’t hesitate to do the same with you.” An impressed sound hummed from him as he settled at the makeshift table. Eyes moving about the space to take in the environment, sus out any hidden threats or people lingering from the crew that had been assembled to come to his rescue. As comfortable as he could manage, he ignored Din’s warning and spoke directly to you the second the man was out of earshot, having moved up into the cockpit to get the ship in motion.

“What’s a pretty little thing doing with a big bad man like Mando?” He smirked at you, eyes roving over your figure in a way that made your skin crawl.

At your silence and scrutinizing gaze, he looked you over. From the ripped fabric of your trousers to the braid of your hair, over the entire length of your body. You didn’t show the discomfort at his roaming eyes, simply taking it in stride. Knowing that if he were to try anything, you wouldn’t be reprimanded for retaliation.

“You know, I never expected Mando to be so free with his space. My sister tried for years to get him to let her stay aboard this hunk of junk he calls a ship. Always met on his terms, never giving anything more than he was willing to, even if she pushed.”

“But you, you’re different. I can sense it. I see things he has no relation to scattered around the ship. Your mark on his space, it means a great deal whether you realize it or not. But he’s a selfish man, and he’ll make that known to you sooner or later.”

You didn’t engage, only spared a glance over at him when you readied yourself a serving of the tea given to you by the clinic. The painkillers they provided you with had been doing a good job of staving off the cramping in your middle, but nausea and a gnawing feeling in your stomach prevailed.

You turned to face him, stilling as you took in the defeated air about him. He had his freedom, he had his life back after having been caught, but he didn’t look happy. He lacked something that didn’t light his eyes through all the way, and you felt bad for him. He may not be the best person, but you could see that something was missing and he felt the space whatever it was left in its wake. He was watching you, his eyes trained on the way you picked him apart at the very seams. Calculating how he displays himself versus the things you see in him that he does not.

He shifts in his seat, anxiety at your scrutiny given voice.

“I’m selfish too.” You said before ascending the ladder and leaving the man alone with his thoughts.

“You keep that little shadow of yours close, no tellin’ the attention she’s garnered from being at your side.” Ran chimed after Din, aiming the thinly veiled threat at the man’s back. Turning to face down the ramp, hand hovering over the panel that controlled it, Din took notice of how the man was gazing up toward the windows of the control room. A glint to them that unsettled him, like you were something to own and control, to be used to get back at him.

He was silent as he boarded the ship once again, guiding it into flight immediately. Ships beamed in from hyperspace around you, focus on the space station none the wiser behind the Crest.

“Hey, I have a question.” You announced, securely seated behind the man as he directed the ship into hyperspace. The controls beeping and toggles switching underneath Din’s hands as he controlled the ship and set a course. He made a low hum, to let you know that he heard you and was waiting for your next words.

“What do you want me to call you around other people?”

“Mando is fine.”

“That makes me uncomfortable. It’s informal, it’s on the cusp of an insult, to associate you only with what you’re known as. You’re much more than that.”

“I don’t see it that way, so you don’t have to worry about me taking it that way.” He was quiet for a beat, chair turning back around as you walked up beside him. Emotions flitted across your face and you frowned when he turned back toward the control panel. You watched as he punched in coordinates from within his mind, a system of planets further out from the mid rim popping up on the screen. His fingers hovered as he slowly panned across the options displayed in front of him, thoughtful. “What did you call Akiz?”

“Cabur, kebiin, nuhunla jag.” You reached for his shoulder, palm going over the pauldron in a caressing motion. Thoughts and memories pulling you back into the past.

Protector, blue, funny man.

“And what did he call you?”

“Kih goran. Mir’sheb. Ner kar’ta.”

Little blacksmith. Smartass. My heart.

“I’ll respond to whatever you choose to call me, mesh’la.”

“Why…um, why…do you call me that?”

“Because you are.”

His visor turned to you, and you felt a pull toward him but took a step back instead. Overwhelmed by the honesty in his voice, the sincerity with which he shared his reasoning with you.

“O-oh, okay.” You could feel heat rising up the column of your neck, surely visible to the man seated in front of you. A way for him to know that his words had an effect on you.

“She was a youthful indiscretion.” He broached the silence of you tending to the cuts he sustained. The one on his thigh had been quickly tied off but now needed proper attention. He had removed the armor fastened about his legs while he waited for you to change and return to the hold. His boots were inside his quarters, not wanting them to get jostled about in the open space of the hold. He wasn’t sure where ad’ika had gone to, but nothing was clanging nor was he making noises like he needed something. He may have followed you up to your room, curious as to what you stored in there along with the pull of your larger cot with softer blankets.

“I believe…that she was once something you wanted so you sought it out.” Your attention was focused on the contents of the first aid kit Din typically kept inside the weapons locker. It was laid out on the floor beside you, some wrappings already torn into and pressed to your own injuries.

“But, seeing how she is and everything insinuated, it was all fast and rough and passionate. And whether the attraction deteriorated over time and taken over by disdain, there was feeling there.”

He was quiet as he watched the way you carefully wiped the wound free of blood splatter that had stained the skin. Gentle fingers applying bacta cream to the wound, trying not to irritate it, before wrapping gauze around the diameter of his thigh. Cutting off the roll and knotting the end of it to keep it secure but not too uncomfortable or damaging, your hands stilled on him.

“There was, it was fleeting. More about the…familiarity we had with each other than anything beyond general attraction.”

“But you sought her out, time and time again.”

“Only while working with the group, the second I left, I ceased it all.”

“But it was, wasn’t it? Rough and about power, to see who could overpower the other and take pride in the ability to bring each other down in such a way.” That was what had bothered you so much about seeing them interact with each other. The way she tried to overpower him, the way that he let her attempt to with no reaction. Knowing that if he were to show a reaction, even small as one could be, it would be like giving her the satisfaction of knowing that she had succeeded in getting under his skin.

“That…was a big part of it, yes.” He admitted, after a few bated breaths.

“I may never be able to give that to you, that type of dynamic.” You admitted softly, feeling self-conscious for the umpteenth time since first stepping aboard that lone space station. Din’s past lying in wait to take you both off guard in the most unexpected of ways.

“I’m not asking that of you.”

“But you liked it, obviously. It was intense enough for her to linger on the interactions, to feel cheated by your disappearance.” You worried your bottom lip between your teeth, contemplating the route of the conversation. Trying to hold your emotions in check, your own inner turmoil at the subject matter in order to show him and yourself that it was normal to talk about these things, to discuss these things with those you wanted to be with.

“San, please look at me.”

“Din, you-I may not ever be able to be that willing, to give over control completely.”

“I’m not asking to take control; I’m not asking anything of you. It’s- that’s not what I’m-I’ve changed. This, what we’re doing- It’s all on your terms, your comfortability, your willingness. Whatever you want to give me will be enough, even if it’s nothing at all.”

“You-you would really be okay if I were to not want to explore that with you?”

“Y-yes, mesh’la, of course.” He stuttered as you stood up from where you were kneeling by his feet, where you had lowered yourself to tend to his injuries. Not breaking your focus from the helmet tilted down at you, something in your eyes he hadn’t seen before. His visor was trained on you as you stepped into the space between his thighs, hands resting atop his shoulders, fingers spreading along the cowl that covered his neck. Words seemed to flee him as he could only sit there and feel you untangle the fabric from around his body, folding it carefully and setting it on the makeshift table off to the side.

You paused, bottom lip between teeth as you thought something over. You felt like you were out of your element, unprepared for the yearning and heat that had suddenly taken over. Filling the space between every nerve and nestling right behind your ribs with a weight you were sure you couldn’t shake even if the desire to do so crossed your mind. Looking over at him, right into the dark line of his visor, you leaned in and whispered to him.

“But what if I wanted to?”

The weight of your words hung in the silence between your bodies.

“Th-then we would go at your pace, as I said before.”

His hands remained balled at his sides as you began to unclasp the securing mechanism on his cuirass. As soon as the first one was undone, one of his reached up to hold the panel of armor in place. Your hands focused on removing the back panel he wore when the second clasp over his opposing shoulder was loosened. With a soft reverence, you set the panel down atop his cowl, to avoid it potentially scratching on the material of the crate. Hands trailing over the one he held to his chest, you took the weight of the cuirass from him and stacked it atop the other.

Before he could lower his hands back to his sides, you loosened elastic bands that held the armor plates over his forearms. Slipping them over his hands, and then removing his gloves with the same focused attention. You fiddled with his hands for a second, tangling your fingers with his own, the contact sparking heat as you recalled how efficient he had been fighting with Xi’an, with stalking and intimidating Mayfeld, the tense conversation with Qin. The hands so softly brushing against your own were capable of so much, of such strong and powerful things. And yet, they yielded so easily to your own, he allowed you to touch him, to disrobe him, to see him. Your heart stuttered in your chest.

The padding he wore underneath was warm from the heat of his body, the velcro snicking loudly in the quiet of the hold. The sound sparking warmth low in your middle, the fact that he was letting you disrobe him of his armor, an intimate thing for someone of his beliefs, was not lost on you. You guided his hands to your body, resting them on the flare of your hips. His hands curled around them, holding to where you let him touch. Fingers digging into the material of your trousers and the belt loops around your waist.

The pair of pauldrons were the next to be carefully removed. You stepped closer into his space, his legs spreading to accommodate you and you felt the sparks reach up into your sternum. A stuttering gasp fell from your lips when you felt the twitch of him where the front of your thighs pressed into the inner most part of his own.

“S-sorry.”

You leaned down, hands hooking over the broadness of his shoulders. Running the tip of your nose along the exposed skin of his throat, down to where it connected with his collarbone. Placing a chaste kiss there, you let your lips brush against him softly as you spoke.

“It’s okay, I want to feel you.” He twitched again and the sparks bloomed into a simmering heat. “If you’d let me.”

Whatever answer he was about to speak died in his throat as you reached for his belt, the buckle clinking and effectively shutting his thoughts down. Loosening the belt, you untucked the long sleeve he had on, exposing his toned upper body. His shoulders and chest were broad even without the protection of his prized armor. The cut from one of Xi’an’s knives was red and irritated, you were thankful she didn’t douse them in anything before hurling them. The skin around it was splattered with a bit of dried blood and you reached for the cloth once again to wipe it away.

Chest adorned with dark hair that you ran a hand over in a petting motion. He twitched against your upper thigh, and you looked down to see the outline of him through the fabric. Feeling the way he was practically throbbing at your attention, you reached a hand down and were about to caress him when one of his hands stopped you.

“Don’t want you feeling like you have to, just because of what happened. Or to…prove something.”

You shook your head, letting him know that’s not what was fueling your attention. Hands resting firmly on his chest, bare skin on bare skin you looked right into the visor.

“I want to. I-I may have been thinking about it the past few days. But seeing how quickly things can fall apart, I want to know you in this way, to show you that I care about you in this way.”

He nodded once, listening to you, believing the earnest words you spoke to him. You reached down to rid yourself of the tank top that was stained with your own blood. The fabric hushing as it moved over the bacta patch in your shoulder. As soon as the clothing was added to the pile of his armor, his hands were on you, pulling you tight to him. You gasped at the press of your nearly naked front to his, heat simmering into something almost overwhelming, nerves lighting up.

He surged up, arms holding you to him underneath your thighs. Tightening your arms around his neck, and your legs around his middle, he made sure you were secure before he walked you over to his quarters.

“Is he-“

“He’s in my room, wanted to see the lights through the small window.”

“Good,” He rumbled as he gently laid you down atop the cot, taking in the way you looked in just your bandeau wrapping and sleep shorts. Soft, tan skin on display for him. The dark smattering of his chest hair, the hair that trailed below his belly button and down beneath the band of his underwear. His hips bones visible, his stomach a little soft, his muscles strong and defined. It made you feel honored that he would share his body with you, allow you to see him in his purest form.

You reached for him, tugging him into the space between your legs by the belt loops of his trousers, knees dangling over the edge of the cot.

“Not everything.” You whispered, tone lifting at the end in a hesitant question. Self-conscious of the bleeding that had been slowing, body still adjusting to a natural rhythm of hormonal changes after so long. Afraid of moving too fast, of being too much, of not being enough. Wanting him despite the trepidation of this being the first time you were sharing yourself with a man in this way, given the choice to.

His fingers deftly worked the buttons and shimmied the clothing down his legs, revealing the toned muscles that had only been glimpsed at through the cut in them. He was beautiful, a pillar of strength and skill, the build of him telling of his training and lifestyle. The bulge of him against the black fabric of his boxer briefs was obvious and your eyes stayed trained on it. He looked so big and you wanted to feel him against you. Kicking your shorts from where you had removed them from your hips, you pulled him down onto the cot.

His visor was aimed at the damp spot darkening the light fabric of your underwear.

“Mesh’la-“

He groaned, words drowned out by the sound as you hooked your legs around his waist and ground up into him. His hands supported himself on either side of you, hovering over you in the small space, as his body folded over you.

He rutted against you, body taking over as the heat of you so close was all he could feel paired with the softness of your skin. The dim lights in the personal quarters bathing you in an ethereal glow. You keened as the heft of him moved against you, the hardness between his legs making desperation form low in your middle. You gasped, head tossing back with his slow movements, legs tightening around his waist.

He groaned, a deep, gravelly sound that shot straight down to your core. Slick seeped into the fabric of your underwear, and your hands shot out to hold him tight to ground yourself. The action pushed your chest together, breasts jiggling with his motions as the thin fabric of your bandeau did nothing to hide the perk nipples that shown through.

The tip of his cock caught on the hood of your cunt, the pressure spinning your head despite the thin layers that separated you. The feeling of him hot and hard against your aching clit pulled a throaty grunt from you, fingers curling into the muscles of his arms, nails digging into his skin. The front of his helmet thudded against your forehead, drawing your eyes to the visor so close. You wish you could see into it, through it, the way his eyes had to be blown out. You wondered what color they were, not for the first time, and you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth as pleasure tingled all over.

“Good, mesh’la,” He panted, modulator crackling with his heavy breaths. Your hips bucked as he ground into you, body spurred on by the need to feel him even closer. But not yet, it would be too much too soon. One of his hands hovered over your chest, fingers reaching but pausing as if he was unsure if he was allowed to touch. “You feel so good.”

“Please touch me,” You arched your back, pushing your chest up to where his hand hovered. When his palm cupped one of your breasts, a moan tore from your throat at the sensation. Your hips lifted instinctively, seeking him out for more more more. You breath quickened as your stomach pulled taut, so close to the edge. It was overwhelming in the best way, the pleasure sparking steadily between the feeling of him rutting between your legs, the way his thumb brushed over your nipple as he palmed your breast. He was everywhere.

“Din, please,” Your eyes watered, the sensations all consuming. He pressed closer to you, hips undulating as he chased his own pleasure. He stilled his hips and ground against you, nudging that little bundle of nerves just right. Muscled tightening, back arching, legs caging him in as close as possible, you tried to tell him, let him know how good he felt when your release washed over your senses like hot water.

The keening sound that fell from your lips trailed off into a whimper as he thrusted against your slick covered underwear, guiding you through your orgasm. His hand at your chest flew to support himself once again, not able to keep up as his own release began to bear down on him. Once, twice, three more times before you could feel the hot, thick spurts of his own release as it collected at the front of his own underwear where he was pressed against you. Moaning your name, long and low, it would simmer in your mind for days.

He panted against you, chests bumping as you breathed heavily and looked up at him with blissed out eyes and an expression so soft that his heart skipped a beat where it thudded against his ribcage.

Gasping as he lifted his hips away from where they pressed against you, little aftershocks of pleasure rippled over your body. Hands reaching, you pulled the ruined underwear from around your hips and shimmied them off. Din’s helmet immediately turned as he didn’t want to overstep eliciting a soft laugh from you as he took the fabric you shoved against his hand dangling at his side as he stood.

When he went to step away, your expression fell. He must’ve sensed the shift in the air, the hesitancy and nervousness for his departure so soon after such an intimate moment.

“Just gonna go clean up, get you something to change into. Please don’t worry, mesh’la.”

Moments later, he returned to the dark quarters. You had pulled the covers back atop the cot and turned the lights off, getting the space ready for sleep. He skimmed his warm palms up the length of your exposed legs, a damp washcloth in warm against you as he gently wiped away your drying release from between your legs. The fabric of the cloth right against your clit in a brief pass had you gasping out, and he chuckled lowly. He swapped out the cloth for a pair of new underwear in his grip. He tapped the side of your thighs for you to lift your hips and he settled them on you.

Getting situated underneath the covers took a little shifting as you both tried to lay in a way that irritate new injuries. He ended up on his back, not able to lay side by side with you as both your thighs were bandaged opposite each other. You folded yourself over his chest, head resting in the crook where his shoulder met his neck, injured leg thrown over his middle. His heart was beating fast beneath you, and you buried your face into his skin and breathed in deep.

Content, safe, satiated. Everything felt right with the world in that moment.

“I’ve never removed it be with her, I never removed anything.” He spoke quietly into the darkness, his hand gently caressing your hip, not wanting to wake you lest you had fallen asleep. His body was alight with tingles, energy ebbing and flowing over his skin from the realization of what you two had just shared. It had been the most intimate he had ever been with anyone, had ever wanted to be with anyone.

The hum that vibrated into his skin was all the answer he got as sleep pulled him under to rest alongside you.

You stared. Unabashedly.

Maker, you couldn’t help it. You like to think of yourself as having self-control and a good sense of strength but… you were realizing how false those notions were as your eyes remained trained on the sight in front of you. Din was kneeling on the ground in front of an open panel along the floor of the hold. He was leaning slightly into the exposed space, his back arched slightly and his backside suspended in the air. The fabric of his pants was pulled taut over his form in such a way that you couldn’t even begin to decipher the mumbled words falling from the man’s mouth as he fiddled with something.

Desire flared strong in your middle, stretching down to pool between your legs and you felt your mouth go dry. He shifted slightly, leaning forward a bit more and his backside canted up just enough for you to see the barest outline of-

“San!” He called out, making you jump and scramble to look like you were busy. You took a few hurried, quiet steps toward where the crate that doubled as a table was set up and began to gather the mess from yours and adi’ka’s lunch. You didn’t dare turn around, listening intently to the hush of his movements as he extracted himself from the space he had been leaning into behind the paneling.

“San, I was calling for you, didn’t you hear me?” He was suddenly behind you, making you jump slightly.

You were still flushed, which drew his attention to your face.

“Are you alright?”

“Mhm.” You replied simply, not able to face him.

“Why won’t you look at me?” Concern flowed from him, his words soft but holding a tone that booked no argument. Wanting to know if you were alright, for you to be honest with him. You worried for a second if he thought you were having regrets about the night before, but it wasn’t that. It couldn’t be that, that had been…wonderful and so enticing. He had been so warm, throbbing against you where you needed him the most, his hands and the sounds bleeding from the helmet as he moved against you…

“San, why you won’t look at me?”

You turned before the words even registered completely, pinning look and desperate eyes on display for him. Unable to hide that you wanted him, even if it was still new. For both of you, a tentative bridge formed between you that you wanted to explore further.

“That’s what’s wrong with me, I was watching you while you were crouching and it- you looked, you looked good okay.” One of the cannisters fell from your grip, nervous energy lighting you up.

He was suddenly in your personal space, you back pressed up against the siding of the hold space. But you didn’t feel threatened, you felt excited. Pulled into his front by a hand snaking around your middle, you looked up at him, the visor glinting in the lights turned on all around.

“You’ve been watching me this whole time?” He rumbled, voice dark as he realized you weren’t injured or sick. That you were turned on, just by looking at him as he did the most mundane things to fill the time of space travel.

“Y-yes, you-you fill out your pants very well.”

“Hmm, never realized.” He tilted his helmet to the side, thoughts swirling around your mind stalling at the adorable motion.

He leaned in, as if he was about to press the front of his helmet to your forehead but he detangled from you instead and was rummaging through an open crate that contained his multitude of tools. You stayed where he had ushered you, body thrumming with the lingering heat of how he had been on you in seconds, of your confession.

“He’s watching, don’t want to scar him.” Din said by way of explanation as he nodded his head toward the open quarters. Adi’ka was in his hammock, head poking out of it and peering at you curiously.

“Din Djarin, you tease!” You tried to hide the smile pulling at your lips, but you knew it was a futile attempt. His chuckle and your light laughter urged adi’ka to giggle his own amusement.

“Ni mirdir vi ru'kir nuhoy o'r te oriya.” You looked over at him briefly, fingers skimming over the tools laid out for sale atop a table, attention captured by the environment that reminded you of the good parts of your childhood. Working on something that interested you, spurred on by the kind and encouraging words of your mother who hadn’t yet turned on you.

I think we should sleep in the city.

“Vi ganar te Crest.”

We have the Crest.

“Vi ganar a prudii, par jaon Tuur'ika jii. Liser’t copad at alorir bic norac.”

We’ve had a shadow, for over an hour now. Don’t want to lead them back.”

“Ni kar’taylir.”

I know.

“Vi ru'kir ve'ganir a yamika, nayc? Hiibir baatir be te prudii. Dinui at jor'adir. A pel haav, nadala skraan, a holo net, nadala pirun…”

We should book a room. To shake off the shadow. A reward to celebrate. Soft bed, fresh food, a holo net, a hot bath…

“Nadala pirun?” Something simmered behind his words, the hint of a promise in yours stirring something in him. The glint in your eye as you successfully negotiated what you wanted, as if he had been willing to turn you down after asking after it. He would give you anything you asked for, you were discovering, as long as it was within reason. Wanting for you to be comfortable and feel like yourself in any way. You were grateful for all that he offered you, for the chance to discover yourself after so long, and who could argue with a night spent in a fancy hotel?

“One with a lot of bubbles and water so hot it steams up the entire fresher.” You finally turned your attention to him, switching back to speaking in Basic, a pair of goggles in your hand. “Maybe I’ll let you join me.”

Walking away from him and back to where the vendor had appeared from the back, leaving him to his thoughts of your offer.

He was unnervingly still the rest of the time spent in the shop, keeping a healthy distance as you talked to the discussed what the pieces you provided were worth, the materials they were made from, the techniques used to create them, all to help him gauge what he could sell them for. He agreed to give you a handsome sum for the pieces you were selling, enough to make you internally question how long it had been since he’d been able to offer this kind of work.

“If you’re ever back this way, don’t hesitate to drop by. My partner and I would be willing to buy whatever you have, the craftsman ship is exquisite, truly.”

You both left the shop, walking side by side through the bustling street, full of people in the midday hour.

“How much did he offer you?”

“Oh, like four thousand per piece? Which is pretty high considering most plated armor goes for about six for a full set, but he liked that it was handmade, the quality of the metal. He really liked the stitching pattern I used to give the pieces more durability that will enhance the longevity of them.”

“I’ve been in the wrong line of work then.”

“Nonsense, how much do you average for a job?”

“Depends on the risk. More often than not, like back on Sorgan, what is offered is enough and then shelter and food are appreciated. Not particular about rates or standards, but the Guild would offer one to two thousand for intermediate quarries.”

“How very admirable of you, burc’ya.”

Friend.

That’s what he was, to you. Perhaps it was a tame way of describing his place in your life. But it was a start, it was comfortable. Being around him, getting to know the intimate parts of each other’s lives, sharing parts of yourselves with each other that no one else knew of. A bond that was growing with each passing day.

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hyperactively-me · 1 year

Text

so...how about that?

You nearly forgot that Mando was there until your eyes meet his visor. He’s standing there, watching your chest heave with adrenaline. You straighten out your back, standing up as tall as you can. Your cheeks are flushed with color, your breath slowing down.

just wanted to ask you guys to please read this

(asks are open)

happy reading

warnings: canon typical violence

Mando joins you in a cantina after picking up more bounty pucks, ready to follow a new string of criminals and outlaws around the galaxy.

“Hey” you chirp at him, smiling gently as he stands behind you. He nods his head, acknowledging you with an almost annoyed demeanor. It wasn’t that long ago that you first met; he was still adjusting to your presence and role in his life of travel and violence.

“I just finished, you ready?” you say as you down the last sip of your beverage, setting it down with a sigh. He is still looking at you.

“Okay then” you say awkwardly, unsure of what to say to him as he continues to stand, unmoving.

You slide down the barstool, feet hitting the ground with a small thud.

“Follow me” he demands before taking long strides away towards the exit. You follow him quickly, staring at the back of his chest plate without a thought in your mind. You really had no idea what to think of him, his unresponsiveness, his impassive behavior.

You approach the exit and cross the threshold, now walking towards his ship, the Razor Crest. The streets are filled with merchants, vendors, and passerbys. You pass stalls full of fresh fruits, hand-cut meats, colorful fabrics, and shiny jewelry. You marvel at the sights and sounds, entranced by the busy buzz of the market. You reminisce about your short days of being a carefree child, one that ran errands for her parents at the local markets. You would always bring back beautiful beads for your mother and practical gadgets for your father. Taking in the sights only increased the hole in your heart, your heart feeling heavy in your chest. You shake off the feeling as you walk, remembering Mando is still in front of you. He walks with the confidence only a man of his stature and reputation could have, his spine straightened out and his steps assuring. His broad shoulders nearly block out your vision, the beskar plates adding to his overbearing appearance. He hooks a thumb into a belt loop, strutting down the street as if he had no worries.

The crowd begins to thin out as you approach the hangar where the Crest was waiting for the both of you. A few people sit on the corners of streets, selling their goods or just walking to wherever their destination is. You don’t notice a couple of ex-stormtroopers pressed against a building until Mando abruptly stops. His hand falls on his blaster, prepared to shoot if necessary.

He glances back at you with an ever-stoic expression plastered on his helmet. Ok, you couldn’t see his face, but his body language perfectly conveyed his expression. You gaze right back at him, a sense of danger washing over you. Your eyes widen a bit in an attempt to convey the sense of impending danger approaching. Your breath He seems to notice your fear and he straightens his demeanor, adjusting his grip on his blaster.

All of a sudden, a stormtrooper comes barreling out of a neighboring building, armed and ready to attack. The trooper pushes you to the ground harshly, disregarding you and instead pummeling over Mando with a running jump. Mando lands hard onto his side, groaning from the impact. You shriek as you’re pushed to the ground, caught off guard by the attacker. You watch as his blaster skids across the cobblestone, a sinking feeling growing in the pit of your stomach. Two more ex-stormtroopers emerge from the building, pinning Mando to the ground, attempting to hold down his arms. Mando grunts under the pressure, flailing about, trying to free himself from their grip. Mando kicks one stormtrooper square in the chest, sending him flying backwards. You quickly sit up, fumbling with your own blaster, shakily pulling it out from a leather strap around your thigh. Without hesitating, you shoot a trooper in his leg, dismantling him from holding Mando back.

Mando decides to swing his free arm around and grab the last stormtrooper still holding onto him. He drags down the trooper, successfully disengaging from the trooper's failed attempt of holding him down. Your heart is racing as you watch Mando pull himself up from the ground, chest heaving with adrenaline. Before you can pick yourself off the ground, another trooper managed to sneak his way behind you and drag you across the cobblestone. You cry out, startled from the unfamiliar touch. Your neck aches as his forearm wraps around your neck, dragging you down the street. You immediately swing your arm around, grabbing his neck with the crook of your elbow. You swing around to his back, trying to pull him down with you to no avail. The trooper tries to grab at you from behind, struggling with your elusive grip. You wind up your good arm, ready to throw a punch. You strike the trooper from the back, giving him a deserved underhand punch where his helmet met the back of his neck. The trooper stumbles from the impact, his grip on you loosening significantly. You swing around to his front side and punch him once more, straight into his visor. The trooper stills for a moment before falling limp and toppling over onto the hard cobblestone.

Your breath comes out ragged, anxiety freely flowing through your body. Your hand was balled into a fist, drawing blood from where your nails met your palms. You shake out your hand, hissing from the impact you wrought upon the trooper. Your eyes are fiery, full of adrenaline and anger.

He rushes over to you, his leather-clad hands grasping your shoulders. You shake off his grip, taking a few hesitant steps back from him. He almost seems surprised you think impatiently, letting out an internal sigh.

He stares at you, hesitant of what to do, what to say.

“I didn’t know you could fight like that” Mando breathes out, unsure of what to say. He shifts his weight before bending down to pick up your fallen blaster.

He turns it over in his hands a few times before walking up to you and placing it in your own hands. He folds your hands over, his leather-clad hands engulfing yours. You look up at him with an unreadable expression. He quickly notices your gaze as he steps back from you, clearing his throat loudly. You tense up a little, unsure of what to do at the moment.

“Yeah, I’m just full of surprises, Mando” you breathe out. You bend down to fasten your blaster around your thigh strap.

“Where did you learn to fight like that?” he questions, watching as you secure your blaster around your thigh.

“Self-taught. Had to have some form of self-preservation when I was growing up” you inform him blandly, looking up from where you had finally secured your blaster. His black visor is trained where your hands were. You stand there silently, looking up and down at him subtly, skeptical of his actions. He tugs his belt on a little tighter before turning around again.

You stare at him as he begins to step away, rolling out his shoulder blades with quiet cracks. Before you can think, you find yourself lightly jogging to catch up to him, not turning back to look at the mess you made of the assailants. You

“Are you okay? Those were some pretty nasty hits you took…” you mutter, looking him up and down with a studious gaze. Yet again, you’re met with the same brick-wall silence, the only audible sound being the crunch of his boots over loose rubble.

You both saunter into the hangar, Mando’s heat signature releasing the ramp of the Crest, slowly lowering down to the ground. You keep your eyes trained to the floor, your mind racing of things to say to him. As he stalks up the ramp, you scramble after him, biting your lip with hesitance. The ramp shuts with a loud creak, eliciting a sigh from Mando. He leans against the wall, his weight supported by the cool silver walls.

“I– I’m pretty sure you’re hurt” you squeak out, noticing the way he’s holding the side of his chest plate.

He whips his head in your direction, a breath of frustration crackling over the voice modulator.

“It’s fine” he grunts out forcefully, unwilling to let you press him with more questions.

Anger shoots up in your chest, your nostrils flaring. You ball your hands into fists, unwilling to let him get away with this passive aggressive behavior. You stomp over to him and begin to pull his chest plate off.

Mando is quick to push you off him, shoving you backwards.

“Don’t” he says forcefully, an edge of coldness and abrasiveness seeping from his voice.

“Just let me help you” you grunt out as you try to come near him again, annoyed with his stubbornness.

His hands shoot out to stop you once more, but this time you take them into your hands and shove them away vigorously, unrelenting in your mission to inspect his injury. You manage to press your hands over an area on his chest, a groan spilling out of his helmet as you apply pressure to the site. You let out a sigh and dig your hand into his shoulder, strenuously pushing him into a sitting position against the wall. He sits down reluctantly, faltering under your touch.

You begin to lift off his beskar, struggling with the heavy precious metal. His hands move to help you take it off his chest, breath straining as he moves the plate over his head. He groans out in pain after dropping it to the floor, clutching his side once more. You gingerly lift up the dark pauldron he was wearing, ensuring you don’t knock your fingers into the affected area. As the fabric is lifted off his skin, a large bruise is blooming from the side of his ribcage. A sharp inhale escapes your lips, eyes slightly widening at the sheer size of the bruise.

“They really got you there” you gawk, hands floundering around the dark bruise. He stares straight at you, visor boring into your skull. You pretend not to notice him, refusing to look at his helmet.

You turn, briskly making your way towards the fresher, rummaging through a small basket of towels. You grab a small washcloth from the bundle and turn to the sink. You flip a handle on the sink, cool water running from the faucet. You run the cloth under the cool water, dampening the material until it drips with water. The faucet squeaks to a stop as you shut it off, and you quickly make your way back towards Mando. Your breath picks up as you approach him, his helmet now trained on your hands holding the dripping washcloth.

You plop down to the ground, the floor making a dubious creaking sound as you sit cross-legged. You lean in towards Mando, gently pressing the cloth into the side of his abdomen. He lets out a husky groan, the sound piercing the still air. He places his large hands over yours, nearly enveloping your hands. You stay quiet, your cheeks slightly flushing from his actions.

“Just keep that compress over the bruise for a while. It’ll help the pain” you breath out, slowly pulling your hands away from his own. He slowly looks at you, studying your face as you look at him, your lips pressed together. You drop your hands in our lap, unsure of what to do.

“Thank you” he rasps out, nodding his head slowly.

“Don’t mention it” you huff out, pushing stray pieces of hair behind your ear. You watch as he presses the cloth on his bruise. He releases some of the pressure applied on the site of injury. You watch as he lifts one hand off the cloth, reaching towards one of your hands. You let him take it, cheeks flushing with color as the warmth of his hand seeps into your own. He gives your hand two gentle squeezes before letting go of it. The tiniest of smiles appears on your face for a dashing moment before a serious expression paints your face. What is he- what is he doing you thought, your heart racing a million miles per second. But you didn’t want him to let go. You delicately reach your hand out once more, latching onto his hand with a tight yet comforting grip. He drops his guard, becoming pliant in your hands. I could get used to this you thought, the corner of your lips slightly raising into the tiniest of smiles.

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badbatchposts · 1 month

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Quiet Corners of the Galaxy, Ch. 25

Relevant tags/content warnings: Crosshair/Original Female Character, Slow Burn, Enemies to Lovers, Periodic Smut, Canon-Typical Violence, Alcohol Use, 18+/Explicit

Read the full fic so far on AO3

Read previous chapters on Tumblr: Ch. 1 l Ch. 2 l Ch. 3 l Ch. 4 l Ch. 5 l Ch. 6 l Ch. 7 l Ch. 8 l Ch. 9 l Ch. 10 l Ch. 11 l Ch. 12 l Ch. 13 l Ch. 14 l Ch. 15 l Ch. 16 l Ch. 17 l Ch. 18 l Ch. 19 l Ch. 20 l Ch. 21 l Ch. 22 l Ch. 23 l Ch. 24

Chapter 25 summary: The squad copes with the discovery of the missing clones, and Crosshair learns more of Dara's backstory.

Extra content warnings for this chapter: blood/injury; grief; corpses/mass grave

Crosshair couldn’t tear his eyes away from the spot where Dara was rooted to the ground, kneeling over a pit containing the remains of the clone prisoners. He couldn’t see what she was looking at from this angle, but he knew it wouldn’t be pretty.

“I—I think you should take Omega back to the ship,” she told Hunter over the comms. “She shouldn’t see this.”

The Sergeant sighed, a tired, defeated sound. “Understood. Come on, kid—we’ll go get the Marauder for a pick-up while the rest of the squad finishes up here.”

If Omega had any objections, she wasn’t voicing them over the comm line as she and Hunter made their way through the forest in the direction of their ship. It would be a few hours before they could return with the Marauder, hopefully arriving around the time of the planet’s early sunset.

Dara still hadn’t moved. “Can the rest of you find some shovels and come to my position?” she requested weakly. “Kriffing Imperials just tossed them in the garbage pit. They didn’t even have the decency—” She cut off suddenly, clearing her throat.

“Affirmative. We’ll be there in a few minutes,” Echo let her know. Through his scope, Crosshair saw Dara finally get to her feet, staggering over to a nearby tree. She held herself propped against it for a minute, then—with a sudden violence that made him flinch—crashed her fist against the bark, over and over, until her blows steadily grew weaker and stopped. Then she was motionless again, fist still clenched, breathing heavily. Her shoulders remained tense, but her face was turned away from him—he couldn’t help but think that it felt deliberate, like she was guarding her expression from his gaze.

Tech, Echo, and Wrecker arrived just as Crosshair climbed down off the roof. Dara took one of the shovels, picked a spot a sufficient distance away, and started digging without a word as the rest of them leaned over the pit. There were bones scattered around its edges, no doubt the result of animal activity; in the pit itself, skulls, femurs, and rib cages were all easily identifiable, emerging from corpses in various states of decomposition, all mixed in with the facility’s other refuse. Wrecker lifted his helmet off for barely a second before he gagged and slammed it back on his head; Dara had pulled off her soiled poncho and wrapped a scarf from her pack around her face and nose. While Tech and Echo worked on disinterring the bodies from the pit, separating them from trash and giving the loose bones some semblance of order, Wrecker and Crosshair joined Dara and set to digging. They were silent for over an hour, interrupted only by the occasional grunt.

“Dara,” Tech called suddenly. He was standing by the pit, holding a small bone, entirely cleared of flesh. “Will you pass me your glow rod?”

She took a break from digging and dug it out of her pack, tossing it to him before returning, without comment, to her task.

Tech disappeared into the facility for a few minutes, returning with a look of grim satisfaction.

“It is just as I suspected,” he informed them. “The remains also glow in the ultraviolet spectrum. We can infer that the substance that we discovered was being tested on the clones.”

The rest of the men straightened up from their tasks and climbed out of the pit and the new grave they were in the process of digging, taking advantage of the distraction to take a few sips from their canteens and open ration bars at a distance from the stench of decay. Dara, however, didn’t even turn to look, just continued to remove dirt by the shovelful.

“So was it the chemical that killed them, or did the Empire just dispose of them when they decided they’d served their purpose?” Echo wondered darkly.

“It is difficult to tell,” Tech admitted. “So far I have not identified any injuries to the bodies consistent with violent deaths, although the advanced state of decomposition makes that challenging to determine. I have, however, scanned several samples and should be able to analyze them later to find out more.”

“How many are there?” Wrecker asked, his expression uncharacteristically grim.

Echo shook his head sadly. “Dozens. Probably everyone on the list that we found.”

As the three continued their discussion, Crosshair watched Dara, who was still digging at an incessant, even punishing pace. Sighing, he dropped back down into the wide, deep grave they’d managed to carve out of the soft earth. They had made good progress, although they still had a while to go before it would be sufficient for a burial.

Crosshair approached her cautiously, like a wild animal. His earlier avoidance no longer mattered to him, his resentment all but forgotten. There was something off about her, a palpable tension that threatened to uncoil at any moment.

“Burk’yc,” he said, as gently as he could. “Take a break.”

“I’m fine,” she muttered.

“No, you’re not,” Crosshair insisted. “At least get something to drink.”

“I said I’m fine,” Dara snapped back, finally turning to look at him for the first time all day, only to shoot him as venomous a glare as he’d ever seen from her. She dragged the back of one hand against her forehead, wiping away sweat and dirt. As she did, he caught a glimpse of her palm: a long gash leaked a trail of blood that smeared along the handle of her shovel. The skin around it was already blistered and broken, red and raw, and her knuckles where she had hit the tree were bruised and bloody.

At the sight of her injuries, Crosshair felt his stomach drop. It was obvious, from the moment she had found the pit, that she was distressed—none of them were pleased, this was a worst-case scenario for what they expected to find—but he hadn’t realized how far she would push. Somehow, against all logic, he was more worried for her safety now than he had been when she was shot. Did she even realize she was hurt? Couldn’t she feel it?

“You’re obviously not fine,” he growled, crowding closer to her and grasping at her hands. He turned them palms up, trying to get a better look past the blood and dirt. Her other hand didn’t look much better, and he winced when he noticed tiny shards of transparisteel still clinging to the skin. “Did this happen when you fell?”

Dara stared dumbly at her wounds for a moment before trying to shake him off. “It doesn’t matter.”

Crosshair only gripped her more firmly by the wrists. “This can wait. You need to—”

“I don’t need to do anything,” she interrupted, pulling away violently. “I’m fine, just— just let me keep digging.” She grabbed her shovel from where it had dropped at her feet and made to continue.

“Just stop!” Crosshair commanded, temper boiling over. “You’re not a clone. They’re not your brothers, they’re ours, so don’t pretend like it’s your job to bury them. Take a kriffing break so I can fix your hands, now!”

Dara did stop at that, fingers flexing around the handle of the shovel as she glared straight back at him. She looked like she was deciding whether to yell at Crosshair or punch him. Finally, she threw down her shovel and shoved past him, scrambling out of the hole. She grabbed her pack on her way past and stalked into the forest without a backwards glance.

Crosshair turned to where his brothers were staring down at him disapprovingly and crossed his arms.

“What?” he barked. “I was trying to be nice!”

Wrecker frowned. “Well, ya did a terrible job.”

Crosshair threw his hands up in exasperation. “I don’t know what her problem is!”

“Ah,” Tech began matter-of-factly. “It is likely that she is experiencing some acute psychological distress. Her discovery of this mass grave has, in all probability, reminded her of the Empire’s massacre of her home village.”

The others blinked at him, stunned. “Tech, how was I supposed to know about that?” Crosshair finally demanded.

Tech tilted his head. “Oh—yes. I forgot to inform you all of what I had discovered of Dara’s biography once we learned her birth name.” He cleared his throat and frowned down at his datapad as he pulled up the relevant file and began reading. “Keranji Daranjal, born on Onderon, childhood friend of Steela and Saw Gerrera. Attended university in Onderon’s capital city, where she began advanced graduate training in linguistics, specializing in non-human, primitive cultures. She has published some quite fascinating studies, in fact—”

“Get to the point, Tech,” Echo interjected.

“Ah, of course,” Tech acknowledged. “Apologies. Dara’s research was interrupted during the Clone Wars when her mentor, the linguist Palo Bragus, was gunned down by Separatist droids during a public demonstration. She then abandoned her studies to join the Gerreras in the formation of their insurgent group. After they succeeded in reinstating the former king, she left Onderon; a little over a year ago the Empire sought her out as a means to track down Saw. The village where she and the Gerreras grew up was burned down in the attempt to locate her. Many of the villagers were killed…including Dara’s only family: a brother, sister-in-law, and their two children.”

He cleared his throat again, glancing up at his brothers. “The Empire now has Keranji Daranjal listed as deceased, so I can only presume that she faked her death shortly afterward. As far as I know, Dara has never been back to Onderon. She never had the chance to bury her dead.”

There it was, then: everything Dara had built all those careful walls to protect, the origins of her rage and her grief, what Crosshair had been so eager to see exposed. A war she had fought in and survived, only for more utter violence and destruction to come when she thought it was all over. Death upon death upon death, and at the center of it all, Dara, still alive, but alone.

Her story was a lot like that of the clones, in fact. And he had somehow managed to rub it in that these weren’t even her corpses to bury.

The men avoided eye contact. Tech and Echo had done the best they could with removing the bodies from the garbage pit and had stacked them reverently to the side of the grave, awaiting their new resting place. They joined the others as they returned to digging, though Crosshair kept glancing out towards the forest, where Dara had disappeared.

Wrecker laid a hand on his shoulder. “She’ll be alright,” he murmured.

The sun was setting and they could hear the Marauder’s approach by the time Dara returned, carrying a wide, flat stone. Though the hole they’d managed to dig was no monument to wealth, the bodies of the clones were now safely blanketed in soil, deep enough to protect them from further disturbances, animal or otherwise. The squad stood quietly by the grave as she approached and knelt, gently laying the stone at its center.

Her hands somehow managed to have gotten worse, Crosshair noticed. Still, she didn’t seem to feel the pain, only clenched her fists, rose, and went to the ship without a word. On the stone, she had painstakingly carved a one-word epitaph for the clones, the Aurebesh letters rustic and clumsy. It read:

Brothers

Tag list: @stardusthuntress @skellymom @megmegalodondon @somewhere-on-kamino @morerandombullshit @zahmaddog @flaming-dumpster

Thanks again to @cloneflo99 for the amazing banner!!!

#the bad batch #star wars #bad batch #clone force 99 #tbb crosshair #the bad batch fanfiction #clone wars fanfiction #the bad batch crosshair #crosshair bad batch #crosshair x oc #tbb wrecker #tbb echo #tbb tech #tbb hunter #tbb omega

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buckybarnesss · 1 year

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I was literally thinking about all the fics where Stiles is like "and then Derek pushed me around 🥺" like... Derek did the steering wheel thing because Stiles made him STRIP FOR A SIXTEEN YEAR OLD BOY.

I started to read an article that opened up by criticizing the "physically abusive sterek ship" and backed out immediately, like you people need to remember that the show exists and that is not based in reality.

Pack mom Stiles.... gah. Stiles would never help Isaac with his homework. Derek would!! But Stiles? Hell no.

Stiles is literally a fucking creep. He walks around telling everyone that he loves Lydia. He has no boundaries. I love him that way. He's a snarky little asshole who would definitely just show up in Derek's apartment one day and Derek would be like "how did you get in here?" And then Stiles reveals that he pretended to be a doordash driver with a delivery and then picked the lock on Derek's front door.

fun fact my url before this one was creeperderek. i am fond of that url. he of loitering at tree lines and creepily disappearing into shadows in the boy's locker room for no fucking reason.

stiles does have a lack of boundaries and really intense anxiety about the people he cares about.

he listens to the police scanner regularly and monitors his father's diet due to his intense, almost uncontrollable anxiety about his father. he's terrified his dad will die and has an intense fear it will because of him.

all of that of course stems from his mother's death when he was so, so young and how claudia in her cognitive decline blamed stiles and accused him of trying to kill her.

this anxiety also extends to scott and melissa to various degrees due to their significance to the stability of his life for so long and why he's irrationally scared to tell his father the truth despite knowing if the sheriff understood what was really happening it would help more than hinder.

than there's other things like how he has a copy to the key to the mccall house that melissa isn't aware of and it's made pretty clear that stiles took the imitative. scott didn't give it to him.

scott doesn't seem all that bothered by this but scott is one of the few people who knows and mostly understand stiles. they live in each other's pockets. scott would be oddly touched but also be like bro what in the fuck? because really, stiles what the fuck?

people find that fucking weird and creepy.

it truly wouldn't surprise me at all if stiles had a copy of the loft key and derek knew he did and said nothing about it because these two are weird little freaks that probably have frequently creeped on each other.

we do get indications they speak outside of what we're shown. two little maladjusted bastards sharing one brain cell to creep on each other.

if stiles showed up in derek's loft derek probably wouldn't even be surprised. in fact he'd tell stiles he took longer than expected, peter did it better and he sucked.

it's so funny that fandom developed the idea that derek sneaks into stiles's bedroom all the time via the window and we literally never see this. it never canonically happens. though it's not said how derek got inside in wolf's bane so maybe a window but frankly i find it more plausible derek just, you know, broke in the house via a door.

putting a read more on this because i had a lot to say lol

stiles and lydia. ooh boy.

sentiment within fandom swayed a lot on these two and i've seen the common argument that sterek fans don't like stydia as a paring because it's not gay, or something to which i say lol no. i, personally, don't ship them romantically because for like 2 seasons stiles didn't see her as person and she mostly ignored his entire existence.

he fixated on lydia in the 3rd grade which would've been around the time claudia declined and than passed away. he held onto that crush tightly, put lydia on a pedestal making her more into an ideal than a person.

there's moments where we see them genuinely connect but there's so many scenes between the two of them until like season 3 that are cringe and uncomfortable. my main issue is that lydia never really says much about it either.

it's like until she becomes a real girl to stiles her position doesn't matter even when we see her be uncomfortable or weirded out around stiles.

we actually do see stiles and derek develop boundaries with each other. stiles uses derek to literally queerbait danny in wolf's bane. both derek and danny seem to realize this as it occurs and derek pointedly, purposefully retaliates with violence which isn't great but it makes it clear that derek is not okay with what stiles did and a line had been crossed. s2 has derek also indicate to stiles it's not okay to touch without permission.

remember the finger tippy taps stiles's gives derek when boyd dies? that's stiles having learned derek's physical boundaries over 3 seasons so that he is able to offer him comfort in a awful, terrible moment.

in conclusion derek and stiles aren't abusive and it's odd people latched onto that idea. they're abrasive assholes to each other and lack boundaries in the beginning because their maladjusted people for various reasons while also just being two little freaks about each other.

#my blog #thoughts on teen wolf #sterek #otp: you need me to survive

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bolognamayhem117 · 28 days

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Title: Rat-holed Memories.

Length: 4500 words

POV: Astarion

Pairing: Astarion/M!Elf!Tav(Rorik), rogue/paladin

Rating: MATURE 18+

Themes: mlm, consent, clarity of expectations, dissociation, manipulation, setting boundaries, light erotica, internal conflict.

Content Warnings: References to rape, incest, broken family dynamics, murder, slavery, mild knife play, anger, emotional outbursts.

Author notes: First and foremost, I created this character on my first playthrough after Robert and I bought the game a year ago. I picked up the controller with zero knowledge of the game's contents after being told you could play as a vampire. I said "That's bold of the developer, fuck it, I'll make Rorik's dumb ass and Smegol my way through the forgotten realms or whatever..." Turns out the person who told me that was referencing the Astarion Origin playthrough. I said "Screw It I'm Doing It Anyway! With the power of IMAGINATION." To my delight and surprise it really wasn't all that hard to use paladin spells, items, scroll hoarding, and armor to very closely model the homebrew build of Rorik the Degenerate Dhampir Sun Worshipping Paladin. He has his own issues which this ficlet hints at. He's cringe, be gentle.

@ghostkingart wrote a post desiring that the fandom wrote more fic about Astarion being denied intimacy due to concerns about intent and whether he's actually in the headspace to do so, with emphasis on his canon tendancy to go somewhere "a million realms away". I thought I could oblige. Digging in my docs for inspiration revealed that I'd basically already written this exact piece, give or take a few details. Decided to put on the Big Boy pants and be brave enough to post this.

I think healing is going to be messy for him. He's a big personality and these are some big complex feelings for a man who's been on the world's shortest leash for 200 years and also has had to solve every problem with either his body or a blade.

This fic also heavily implies that some healing and learning has already taken place so bear with me. Enjoy

“I don't know. It's veiled from me… I can't remember that clearly. Just. Parts… I think so.” Rorik told Astarion.

"Nothing? You remember nothing of circumstance or even who delegated to you at all?” Astarion scoffed and crossed his arms.

Astarion had been warned that some questions he might have may not have much of an answer, for Rorik was good at burying memories too sharp to hold. Knowing of the predilection toward purposeful forgetfulness didn't make this conversation any less frustrating. He wanted to know if Rorik had ever been sent to Baldur's Gate on loan, as Rainar often ordered him to do if a nobleman or another vampire lord bid high enough. He said he'd been to the city during that time, but maintained that he couldn't remember why.

“You want to know if Cazador ever paid Rainar to have someone vanish, don't you?” Rorik asked a new question rather than answer one they both knew the answer to.

“You told me the name Cazador Szarr was familiar, once.” Astarion probed.

“It is.”

“Then you should understand why that would concern me.”

"I do.” Rorik assured him with a single nod as he half-dozed, sprawled on his back.

Silence fell upon them as they lay still but restless in Astarion's slightly tidier than usual tent. Fitting two bedrolls in it necessitated some level of order. Frankly, Astarion hid the trash and used glassware behind his temporary abode. Rorik probably knew where the mess was, but said nothing.

“What would you say if you found out tomorrow that we passed like ships in the night long ago? What would it change?” Rorik inquired, appearing curious toward the demeanor of the bees in Astarion's bonnet.

“I'd ask what Cazador would have paid to have you do. I have to lay there, every damn night, wondering if that bastard sent the Gur down the street where I lost everything. It could just as easily have been you.” Astarion explained irritably. Sometimes Astarion felt like he had to spoon feed Rorik his thoughts. He should be able to string together the pieces by now.

"I have an opinion, Astarion, but it might not be a thought you want reinforced.” Rorik offered with a warning.

“give it.”

The dhampir spoke as if reading off law rather than opinion, the gravity of his tone leaving little room for argument. “Vampires are known to stalk a target for days. You should know, to a point. But lords, or true vampires, looking to create spawn for their own uses are different. They assign much, although sometimes arbitrary or even nonsensical, ritual to their pursuit. I'm certain, if he didn't send the Gur himself, he was already watching your every move for months.”

“...You're telling me he was inevitable.” Astarion muttered with venom and a curl of his upper lip.

“...I'm saying: vampire lords aren't spontaneous.” Rorik clarified.

“Well, all I'm saying is: you're missing my point. I wish you remembered. So I could be sure.” Astarion complained with a flick of his hands in the air above them.

“If it reassures you at all, I know for a fact that Cazador didn't send me. I'd have proper fucking killed you too completely to bring back.” Rorik abruptly stated.

“What!? Exactly what makes you so sure of that.” Astarion spat.

“Beating the guts out of a magistrate but not enough that a vampire cannot turn him sounds like a miserably delicate chore… I was never bought for things like that. I'm too heavy handed.” Rorik asserted bluntly.

In mostly mock hurt, Astarion went on the defensive. “No, I mean: what in the hells makes you think I was an easy mark?”

“Hmm? How much do you weigh?”

“Eh?”

Rorik sat erect to turn and loom over Astarion, arms caging the other as he held himself up with palms pressed flat to the floor by each of the elf’s shoulders.

He huffed through a smile full of sabers, he was about to tease, “Couple sacks of grain, if you were soaking wet, I’d guess. I could toss you over my shoulder and run up a hill without losing my breath. I imagine you wielded a quill and inkpot then. The sharpest thing in your arsenal might've been a letter opener.”

How dare this often bald cunt of a man wear that disgustingly smug grin, smear insults, and manage to be bizarrely charming all the while?

“Wrong,” Astarion rebutted, “men of Baldur's Gate are required starting at age nine to learn archery, and it is short sighted for an individual of my former station not to be prepared for scorned citizens challenging him to a duel over an unfavorable ruling. You would've bitten off more than you thought.” Astarion stubbornly asserted, completely guessing although he wouldn't admit that. He had no idea what he used to do in his spare time as a mortal, or where he lived, or even what his favorite food used to be…

“Hmm, you make a good argument, sure. But your hands wouldn't have known much hardship. Could they have fended off these ragged mits?” Rorik's right hand slid against the reed mat until fingertips found Astarion's elbow, from there encircling his forearm and following its shape until he met a wrist, then the hand he meant to squeeze.

Rorik's hands were square in their shapes, knuckles scarred until the skin remained thick and rough, crooked fingers from many breaks, and strange knots of bone that betrayed how many times he'd fractured his dominant hand as he gripped his sword and struck a shield or armor rather than flesh and bone. Astarion could feel every callus like a knot under the skin of Rorik's leathery palm. Their textures were jagged and would pull runs in fine silk.

Such a gnarled paw might've repelled Astarion a month ago. His always empty guts used to twist at the touch of a victim with hands like these. Those nights and those marks did feel as though they pulled vicious runs in the silk of his skin.

Rorik was just, as per fucking usual, the one outlier. Terrible hands on him, but they squeezed his fingers carefully, they were almost warm, and their textures were becoming nuanced to Astarion's touch. He was starting to think, perhaps, if you queued up ten men of the sword, whose hands were all terrible, he could pick out Rorik's while blindfolded.

He brought Astarion's knuckles to his lips, dragging them across his cheek with a sigh that teased a quick flash of his maw of ruthless thorns.

Rorik's eyes flickered an uncanny glimmer from the candlestick glow, the eyes of a smitten predator fixed to Astarion's equally haunting gaze.

“So soft now, softer still long ago I bet, but not as soft as your eyes.” Rorik cooed down to him from behind a finger he selected to kiss.

It made Astarion's throat itch dryly to hear that. His thirst always doubled when Rorik spoke of his eyes.

The bastard grinned against his hand with too many teeth showing. Rorik's way of flirting and giving a compliment was very different from Astarion's well practiced methods. He was much too frank. Rough cut gems was what the rogue called these moments in the relative privacy of his thoughts. Rorik was getting too cocky, however, so strange charms couldn't go unpunished.

Astarion hooked a heel into Rorik's knee, kicking that load bearing joint out from under him and destabilizing him just enough that the edge of a palm clapped around his jaw easily pulled him over. This allowed Astarion to roll with him, reversing the pin. His dagger, kept tucked under his pillow, was gathered in the lightning swipe of searching fingers and brandished at Rorik's jugular.

And Rorik? He simply went limp and chuckled. The Jackass had offered no resistance and gone slack under him, hands thrown back in surrender. It offended Astarion to be allowed to win their grapple, but Rorik's implicit trust in spite of the blade threatening him always made Astarion ache somehow. The inveterate crank under him snapped his jaws at anything that pressed his boundaries, but never Astarion. Adorable Idiot. To be fair, Rorik knew that these jabs and tussles were only fun and games.

“I was not entirely defenseless, and certainly no guileless lamb. Besides, you were no different than a spaw- pardon, but you were under the complete control of Rainar. If you were ordered to destroy a man without outright killing him, you’d have no choice but to comply.”

“I think you'd remember me. I'm not something you'd mistake for Gur. Unlike some people, I shall not name them, I actually look like an undead wretch.” Rorik shook his head -foolish to do with a blade pressed near to skin- and laughed softly against the cold kiss of Astarion's dagger.

The way the apple of his throat bobbed under the razor edge could wring any vampire’s stomach with hunger.

“...True, but not quite so any longer.” Astarion dragged a finger led by a languid arm from Rorik's navel to the space under his chin.

He meant to tilt this face for a closer appraisal. Rorik's expression changed, glazing over as Astarion's thumb followed the shape of his lower lip.

“You've turned rather pink since we began this little jaunt,” Astarion reminded him.

Interesting creatures, dhampirs. One foot in the grave at all times and a hand clawing a stubborn grip on life. Apparently, if they've been behaving like their undead half they will look the part, but Astarion had yet to observe Rorik feeding. That abstinence from the sanguine was reflected in his freckled, peachy skin. He might've been a touch sunburned across the bridge of his nose and the tip of each notched ear.

Rorik gazed up at Astarion, eyes searching, questing about his shapes. He stared as though he were looking upon that sun god he claimed not to love. Silly beastly thing. Blindly devoted damn fool.

“...Would you let me kiss you?” Rorik breathed.

What could one more impossible moment hurt? Who knew when Rorik would wake up and realize Astarion had no precious light to offer him?

“Mm, just this once, darling,” Astarion hummed with lips pulling into a loose smile. It was his turn to tease.

Rorik waited so very patiently, licking his scar streaked lips with what could be perceived as lewd eagerness, but eyes wide and full of something else that called softly.

Astarion retracted the dagger, slowly, making a show of it as he held it away from their bodies. Then, Casually, as he leaned back and settled his weight over Roriks lap, he allowed the blade to slip from his fingers and pierce the mats and dirt below. He left it sticking there, at the ready, but easily forgotten as he pitched forward to claim his companion's delectable mouth.

Rorik had tried to lift himself to greet Astarion, but palms clapped over his shoulders sent him back to the floor with a hollow thud resonating from his chest. The dhampir let slip the faintest moan of approval as his jaws parted for Astarion, offering the warmth within and the taste of his nightly herb brew. His arms wove themselves all about high elf.

Rorik always squeezed, held, stroked the rogue. It briefly repulsed Astarion that first time, when Rorik held so tightly and explored him so earnestly, but that had changed. The paladin longed to be close. He didn't want Astarion's body, Rorik wanted Astarion. That came with its own new form of revulsion. How could Rorik's standards be so low that he actually wanted all of the filth under Astarion's perfect surface?

Astarion knew the answer to that. He winced silently and masked the upset by delving deeper into the pleasures of Rorik's gasping mouth the moment he was done stealing a breath.

The ex-wife, Zarla, must surely be why Rorik found Astarion an acceptable partner. Astarion himself had uttered the perfect analogy for it once before. When you're accustomed to drinking from the sewer, even plonk is a marked improvement.

Anything at all must be better than being forced to swallow every last drop of misery to survive a borderline incestuous arranged marriage to a complete and whole nightmare of a woman.

Rough fingers massaged up the back of Astarion's neck, soon cradling the back of his head. Rorik seemed to like playing in his hair, since he had none of his own until very recently.

The moment Astarion thought of it, he moved to push his fingers though that scant half-inch of strawberry blond. Rorik had still been shorn up top the last time they… But he'd thought about it, curling his fingers in it, gripping it so tight, using it to shove Rorik's keening face in the pillow to muffle him.

Once, it was their second late night encounter, Rorik had mewled things in a tongue Astarion didn't know, both betraying the wellspring of his faint accent and revealing his patron god. A heathen sun diety which pre-dated Lathandor. That night many moons ago, Astarion had delighted in watching the paladin slap both hands over his gaped jaws to keep that holy name out of his mouth while he behaved profanely.

All Astarion could think about was gripping that short ginger crown and pulling Rorik’s head up from a pillow to hear his name mingling with half formed prayer. Oh, the things which come unraveled from Rorik's disciplined tongue when Astarion fucked him were always delectable. There was something sinfully gratifying in defiling a holy man. It must be the same thing which kept Rorik coming back for more and more of Astarion. He must crave to be engulfed by the elf’s tainted touch, like an addict who craved the deadly bliss in his own destruction.

Astarion slipped his curious tongue between the split halves of Rorik's. Maybe after, he'd ask why the man had his tongue sliced. Could be a faith thing, or perhaps a fun story, but hopefully not another rat-holed memory from worse times. He set aside the thought and chose instead to be gratified in the way Rorik arched under him.

Rorik's hands curled in hair and slid down Astarion’s spine, but that left claw hesitated at his waistband and instead formed a self-restraining fist in the elf's untucked shirt. No, no, he wanted Rorik to go further. He wanted to give Rorik his hit of destroying bliss, keep him close, keep him asleep and unaware of how unfit his favorite “pain in the ass” was for him.

His guts were grinding acid at the wolves playing tug-o-war in his silent chest. Rorik aroused Astarion's dead flesh and dead heart, that was true, but it repulsed him that the only catharsis he could summon for that were the things he could do to Rorik's flesh to lure him closer. It made it feel like working one of his marks, the men and women who’d walk and blush at his side without knowing they were good as dead. This felt like raping himself and Rorik with a predatory false self.

Astarion wanted to sink through the floor into the dirt and become beetle shit, he wanted to make Rorik wail his name, and he wanted to drag all of the beauty in the world through the tar in his soul for revenge. He hated feeling it all at the same time, but most of all, his worm-holed brain screamed to keep Rorik in place, with him, blind to his truth but with him.

Gods, five minutes ago he'd accused Rorik of potentially being involved in his murder, then held him at knifepoint while the fool giggled at the game. It was only a matter of time before he saw it all for what it was. The flailing of some irreversibly ruined creature. But he could keep Rorik coming back...

I just need a little more. Stay a little longer. A few more moments to last me once you-

Astarion flattened himself to Rorik's sprawled body to let him feel the arousal he’d inspired. Putrid. Rorik's lips stretched open to drag in a much needed breath, face screwing up as his head fell back while he was ground upon. He submitted to the desire to crush Astarion closer. His arms would snap taut about Astarion so fast when he became overcome by desire. This yearning squeeze was the signal of victory for Astarion every time. He'd won. Rorik was his. He'd pushed him to the-

Rorik broke from the embrace of their lips and turned his face away, sucking down two great breaths between his words “Solan's tits… Astarion?... Astarion, Wait.”

Rorik's arms loosened from him, then carefully lifted away. He put them at his sides and flattened his hands against the reed mat in a calculated manner. Astarion's command over the situation had slipped away. He could feel warm breath heating his cheek and sense eyes trying to find his own. Astarion didn't meet the other's gaze, he couldn't because he didn't want to see Rorik's bloody concern. It was worse than the most depraved leer.

“What? Darling, you're souring the mood. Wouldn't you rather…” Astarion tried to put them back on course by laying a perfectly placed kiss at the space just under Rorik's right ear.

Predictably, the man shivered at that delicate affection and his hands clapped over Astarion's thighs to apply their crushing squeeze of approval. Gods, you're easy. Right back on the road, like recalling a loyal mutt gone sniffing too far ahea-

The thought nauseated him the moment it completed itself in his head, comparing Rorik to an animal to be commanded. The revulsion turning his stomach gave him pause, stopping him dead in the middle of suckling a decadently soft earlobe between his lips to hiss mournfully.

Rorik's hands pressed over the mound of each shoulder. He pushed slowly, putting space between them. Chaos erupted within Astarion like a crowd of men shouting over one another.

No! Not yet… Gods, thank you… Don't leave!?

Astarion was made to sit up with Rorik as he rose from the mat. He was then seated in the paladin's lap, but there was nothing titillating about it. Rorik's eyes bore through him like drill heads. His stare made Astarion feel naked when they were like that, stripped, but not erotically. He just saw him. Through him. Into him. He used to hate that and it still unnerved him, being seen.

“Astarion, let's talk about this first,” He spoke much too softly, like addressing a sniffling child. It made Astarion feel infantile.

“Talk? Why? Don't you want to forget where we are? For just a moment?” Astarion pivoted, sliding a palm over Rorik's cheek to hook his fingers over the back of his neck, bringing him close again.

If he kissed and nibbled just right, between the scars, Rorik would offer a feed. Bastard loved pain. Probably needed it to get off at this point. A bite would put a stop to this nonsense, all Astarion needed was permission. It was time to bring a sword to a knife fight.

“Ast-... Oh my….- wait, wait! No.” Rorik forced his hands between them again to put a foot of distance between his neck and Astarion's fangs.

Gods damn it. Astarion's stomach twisted, but not out of hunger, at the word no. A word he barely knew how to use. He couldn't ignore it. Rorik had refused him. He had to stop.

“Astarion, I don't-... I want to be told what you want. I don't want to guess. We agreed not to, I want to be sure this is really what you want.” Rorik told him, again too gently, and let his hands settle at either side of the other's waist.

“I would have thought I seemed damn sure of what I wanted eight seconds ago, but I'm starting to think you've gone and robbed me of even that!” Astarion swatted at Rorik's hands to banish them from his body and spat bitterly before he could think better of it.

He’d lost at his own game, all because he couldn't hold his disgust at bay anymore. Rorik must have sniffed it out. Bastard had ruined him. Taken away the one thing he truly was good at. Or good for.

Rorik said nothing and only looked at him, brows pinching and turning upward just as his eyes revealed his exhaustion. Astarion had to look away. It hurt. It was fucking agony to be looked at that way and see how lost Rorik appeared on what to do or say.

I'm projecting. Fuck.

No, Rorik knew exactly what he wanted to do. He'd wanted clarification on what Astarion wanted and expected and asked. Astarion on the other hand…

“I-... I don't know what I'm trying to do.” Astarion lied and told the truth at the same time. Felt disgusting, hiding intentions but admitting uncertainty in the same breath.

“What do you not want to do?” Rorik asked, but Astarion wasn't sure what to make of the phrasing.

Ah! Yes, a reference toward Astarion's lurid tendencies. Yes, he used to pretend to “want” just about anything to hook a mark and gain their implicit trust. Astarion's palm struck Rorik, albeit not as hard as he deserved, upon the creek and jaw to shove him away. Bastard's hands clenched in his shirt on reflex, making escape more difficult than it should be. “The hells is that supposed to mean? Do I have to spell it out for you again?! I played the role of a prostitute. It was all lies and-”

“No no! I meant that: Sometimes it's easier to know what you don't want.” Rorik barely restrained a bellow as he rushed the words past the hand which muffled him. He continued, more mindful of his voice. “Which is. I don't know… Something to go on.”

Gods, Astarion loathed to do it, to let go of the misfired anger, but the wisdom Rorik spoke was sufficient. He felt foolish for the misunderstanding, too, and he burned with renewed anger and irritability. He knew one thing he didn't want, and it left him feeling that he appeared inordinately needy as he dropped his hands into his lap uselessly.

“I don't want to be alone… Tonight I mean. I don't want to be alone tonight.” Astarion admitted part of the problem, painfully.

“And I am happy to resolve that. Anything else you don't want?”

Astarion was reassured, a little. Trying to think about what he wanted was, indeed, fucking impossible. He was too shameful to admit that he was trying to pick up where he left off seducing Rorik for fear he would one day leave him in the absence of sex. Astarion tried to figure out how to tell enough of the truth not to hate himself.

“I don't want to… I don't want to hate it. Sleeping with you. I don't want sex. But I want it.” Astarion gripped Rorik's shoulders tightly and mimed jerking him close, but his eyes soon had to crush shut to hold back tears. “...But I can't. The thoughts, the loathing. It comes when I used to be able to just. Put myself away and do what I came to do.”

Rorik's hands covered the back of Astarion's fingers where they pressed red marks into his shoulders, pulling them down to be held tightly between their bodies. Thumbs stroked over his knuckles so tenderly. It was far more than Astarion felt he deserved.

Rorik kept his eyes on their entwined hands. “I understand, I think.”

“I don't… Want to treat you like a victim. But I don't want you to..-” he lost his words in his throat.

Rorik lifted Astarion's left hand to his lips, as he so often did. He was starting to wonder if the man had a hand fetish. “You can tell me anything, I swear that I'll try to understand. What don't you want me to do?”

Why are you good to me?

“I just. Don't want you to leave… Tonight.” Astarion wasn't ready to tell Rorik that he was waiting for him to wake up one morning jaded and too exhausted from this game to carry on playing it.

lips pressed to the inside of Astarion's wrist. “Then you have me until Sol calls me to prayer, and then you'll have me again if you wish it. And you may do, or not do, whatever you like with me... And changing your mind is perfectly legal."

That made Astarion's chest tight. Bastard was getting too good at quelling the storms in Astarion's head. It scared him, the possibility that Rorik could use that new talent to manipulate just as he'd been manipulated. Drag along the carrot of innocent affections. But, to gain what? Rorik had offered it countless times with almost no gain. He just didn't seem work the way Astarion did.

I don't deserve this.

At least, for now, Astarion knew what he wanted after a moment more watching Rorik tenderly worship his hand with a savage mouth. He longed for more of that specifically.

“Would you let me kiss you?” He parroted, then added after another moment of careful thought, “...I want that. With certainty. I want to kiss you until our lips bruise, actually,”

Rorik smiled in Astarion's favorite way. His head tipped to one side while a silent laugh left him through a grin which pressed his eyes closed.

“I could gladly piss away the whole night with that if you let me, you should be careful what you wish for,”

“Oh? You're dealing with a professional. I doubt you'd last ten minutes.” Astarion goaded.

“Sounds like grounds for a bet. Loser has to be the big spoon.” Rorik taunted back.

“Done,”

Arms clenched tight under Astarion's weight, scooping him under the rump to smash him close. Rorik slotted his face under Astarion's chin for a kiss at the join of his clavicle.

“Cheeky,”

“You never specified where I was to kiss you, care to offer further instruction?” Rorik murmured into his skin.

Smart bastard, “You're tricking me into setting boundaries again, aren't you?”

“Yep,” was Rorik's shameless, one syllable admission of guilt.

“Fine, nothing below the neck.”

“And not my ears, please.” Rorik added.

“... Because that gets you-”

“Unreasonably hot, yes.”

A kiss brushed under Astarion's left jaw as Rorik's arms relaxed to let him sink again. It made him shiver.

“So, we have an accord?” Astarion had to beg one more assurance just because he knew he'd be given it freely.

Lips pressed dryly over his own before he got his answer. “Yes,” he heard right before another peck landed right between his eyes, followed by a chuckle.

“This isn't exactly what I had in mind.” Astarion complained softly, unsure what to do with the squirmy, restless feeling in his core. Rorik was being too endearing. That's what got them into this mess. Fucker kept making him feel- well…. Making him feel.

“Then, I will require another round of your instruction on how, precisely, Mr. Ancunin wishes to be kissed?”

“Gladly.” Astarion promised.

#astarion ancunin #astarion #bg3 tav #tav(rorik)#fanfiction #mature themes #baldurs gate 3 #astarion fanfic #male tav

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