#covert action part 2 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

themissinghand · 8 months

Text

Genshin Impact: Queen's Guard Dog [2]

Part 1!

Summary: In which you are Tsaritsa’s closest retainer and servant, the one who is at the Queen’s beck and call.

You are Brighella, the Queen’s Guard Dog.

Or, the Harbingers treat you a bit differently, and you take advantage of that.

Pairing: La Signora, Scaramouche, Sandrone, Pierro, Tsaritsa x GN! Reader

Note: Part 2 and final part of this series, I won’t do other Harbingers since I don’t really know how to write them. Hope you enjoy!

Part 2 is slightly darker than part 1 in terms of themes, but nothing too serious.

Warning: Mentions of violence and toxic behaviors.

★・・・・・・★

To Signora, you are a sharp sword, a trusted ally on missions in service to Her Majesty Tsaritsa.

You've pledged your loyalty to the Tsaritsa, and with your streak of successful missions, there is no one to doubt your abilities.

Sometimes, there's a hint of playful teasing in your voice when you approach Signora, where you jest about treating her as you would to Her Majesty.

“My lady.”

When you bow before her presence, or when you knelt before her very feet, the power she feels is tantalizing, but who is she to deny?

Your offer, dangerous yet tempting, is nothing but a little gambit. It's clear that your loyalty runs deep, even if it means taking drastic actions to please Her Majesty.

Signora have heard the times where you were much violent and malicious, but even now the shadow of your past still lingers.

On her first and only mission with you, it was a moonless night.

You and Signora embarked on a covert mission together, cloaked in shadows and secrecy. Your destination was a den of conspirators who dared to defy Her Majesty Tsaritsa’s rule.

As you infiltrated their hideout, your sharp senses and honed skills ensured that you moved with deadly precision.

In the midst of this operation, Signora observed your ruthlessness firsthand.

“Why hello there.”

A snap, followed by screams.

Those who disobeyed Her Majesty's orders were met with swift and uncompromising justice. Your actions were as cold as the steel of your blade, leaving no room for mercy when it came to protecting the interests of the Crown.

Signora, who had witnessed countless battles and covert operations, couldn't help but be both impressed and slightly unnerved by your unwavering dedication. She saw the depths of your loyalty, the lengths to which you would go to safeguard Her Majesty's reign.

As you and Signora emerged from the shadows, victorious in your mission, there was a palpable tension in the air.

You had a gentle smile on your face, as if you were on a leisurely walk. There were no stains of red on you, maintaining your professionalism and elegance.

“Dear Lady, I hope I haven’t disgusted you with my actions.” You pull out a handkerchief and gently wiped the blood by her lips.

You leaned close until Signora pushed you aside while rolling her eyes.

But you were unfazed by Signora’s action, for you think they are cute and quite adorable.

Like a cat who likes to scratch.

A successful mission as always, and just like usual, you fade away in the shadows to be by Her Majesty’s side.

Signora couldn't help but ponder the dangerous duality of your character—a loyal and deadly weapon in service to Her Majesty Tsaritsa.

How frightening it would be if you were a double-edged sword.

To Scaramouche, you are a mask.

A mask that hides your true self.

A mask that you can put on others.

You play a unique role in his life, akin to that of a father figure.

You take care of him exceptionally well, providing support and guidance when needed. From the moment he joined, you were an inspiration, a listener, and a trainer.

Yet, Scaramouche knows your care is driven by pity. After all, he has told you many things (even when you told him nothing).

So what?

“My dear Balladeer.”

When he calls for you, you answer.

The Balladeer wears this knowledge with a smug demeanor, as if your special attention validates his worth.

“I would never betray you.”

The little head pats and the little nods. The cheeky little smile and the gifts he received.

“Happy birthday my little Balladeer.”

“Let this day be your birthday.”

With your special attention, it felt like a drug, something to keep him content in this dirty world.

You possess the remarkable ability to shapeshift into the very people he's encountered in his life, indulging in his elaborate fantasies.

“I’ll kill you!” Scaramouche cackled as tears flowed down his face, as a sword plunge deep into the Lord of Electro, Bal’s chest.

Blood spilled, but his laughter subsided.

Seeing Bal’s dead body brought so much pain but so much relief.

You brought him close to you in an intimate hug.

“Good job, my little Balladeer.”

Together, you both create a fake reality, one that you both know is built on falsehoods and pretense. It's a charade that you willingly participate in, if only for a fleeting moment.

A mask is easily put on, as it is easily taken off, you play this game of pull and push well.

But Scaramouche doesn’t mind, for he is too far in with this drug of yours.

But an illusion will forever be fake, and just like this relationship, it will never be real.

To Sandrone, you are a rose.

Something so beautiful yet deadly.

As the annual tradition went, Brighella entered Sandrone’s sanctuary of automatons, a place where gears and mechanisms whirred harmoniously, creating a symphony of mechanical marvels.

“My dear Sandrone. It’s that time of year again.”

“Brighella.”

Sandrone greeted you with a gleam of excitement in her eyes, for she had a unique fascination with you.

"I’ve been waiting for you," Sandrone smiled, her gaze locked onto you.

"You never change. I wish my automatons could be as pretty as you."

Her words were flattering, and as you stood there, she couldn't resist the urge to touch your face and body.

“You say that every time.” You responded and leaned forward to indulge her.

Her fingers moved with a delicate curiosity, as if seeking to understand the secrets of your agelessness.

From your eyes, to your nose and lips, she gently traced them with her hand.

With a sly smile, you decided to play along.

You took a delicate necklace from your pocket, and with a mischievous glint in your eye, you carefully tied it around Sandrone’s neck. As your fingers brushed against her skin, you leaned in closer, your lips almost touching her ear.

"Shall we take this elsewhere?" You whispered, your voice carrying a hint of playful suggestion.

Sandrone’s eyes widened, a mixture of surprise and anticipation dancing within her.

But how could she dare covet something that belongs to the Crown?

“Your Highness, I wouldn’t dare.” She says, though her hands drop to your neck, slowly tracing your collarbone as if she was a sly snake.

“A shame.”

You pull back with a cat-like smile, and she showed a face of frustration for a moment before dissipating.

“Now, shall we get to work?” You extend a hand, and she accepts it greedily.

“Yes, Your Highness.”

If only you could be her marionette, how nice would it be?

To Pierro, you are a candle.

“Do you seek revenge?”

A light burning so bright in his life.

Khaenri'ah.

Pierro remembers Brighella as a mysterious figure, yet a figure of power and privilege.

The Immortal, is what people called (worshipped) you as, and Pierro never understood why.

Until he saw the Immortal go against the Gods.

An indescribable, impossible scene of the battle of immortals.

But you fell from grace, as if the heavens were not by your side.

That was the last he saw you.

His light flickered and died.

At least that was what he thought.

In those tumultuous days, where he thought it was the end, you extended a hand to him, a hand filled with promise and a hint of mischief.

“The Immortal? But you perished?!”

With a wave of your hand in front of your face, you changed your appearance from a fallen warrior to a clean butler’s appearance.

“‘I’ have perished. But who says ‘I’ cannot be reborn?”

Brighella smiled, a smile that held secrets and intentions known to no one.

“My name is Brighella, won’t you come with me and defy fate?”

It was an offer of partnership, an invitation for Pierro to seek revenge together.

Who was he to deny?

Pierro, brave and determined, took that hand without hesitation. Pierro had never regretted that decision.

You two had a transactional relationship, a give and take as you will.

It may seem distant, but to the both of you, it was enough to get work done.

Time connects the two of you like a thread, and even if Pierro wishes to, he couldn’t stay away from you.

Because he was like a moth to a flame.

You who shined so brightly, and him who would protect your light. Taking on your tasks in secret and ensuring you have the best of everything.

Over the years, your paths diverged, and Pierro went through profound changes. Life molded Pierro into someone unrecognizable from the man Pierro once was.

Yet, you remained unchanged. Time seemed to have no hold over you.

You was the constant in Pierro's ever-evolving world, a mysterious figure who transcended the years.

Perhaps that was your role, to be the remnant of the past.

A reminder of their purpose and their reason.

And Pierro didn’t want that to change. Ever.

To Tsaritsa, you were like a mirror.

A mirror that revealed who she truly was beneath the crown and the title.

One who had traversed the world and learned of the dirty secrets just as she did.

“You called for me, Your Majesty?”

Tsaritsa saw not just followers but molds, reflections of a world that had shaped her reign.

Tsaritsa sat on top of her throne with elegance, her expression as cold as ice.

“Brighella, report to me on the Harbingers.”

You smile, one of professionalism and acknowledgement.

“Of course, Your Majesty.”

Out of all of her subordinates, you who have stayed by her side since eternity, are the only one she ‘trusts’ the most.

You were her shadow, her sword, her ever-vigilant guard dog, and no one else could lay claim to what was rightfully hers.

Not even the other Archons could dare to lay your hands on you.

“Your Majesty, may I?”

Tsaritsa returned a nod, and you quickly ascended the steps to her stone and knelt by her feet.

You glanced up, admiring the cold beauty of your master before lowering your eyes to her feet.

Tsaritsa never understood why, perhaps it was your shrewd nature or your hidden desire. Or was it your pursuit for power?

Even now, she could not fully comprehend your heart.

However, she has your loyalty.

Your loyalty was a pledge sealed with unwavering dedication. That was all Tsaritsa required of you.

A gesture that transcended words, you kissed her feet as a symbol of your eternal bond, a testament to the power of their connection in a world where power was everything.

“Your Majesty, I am your guard dog. Use me as you see fit.”

You smiled so brightly, only with her, as she is the only one that can understand you.

“I’ll bring the world down to your feet.”

267 notes · View notes

the-bad-batch-baroness · 3 months

Text

Infectious

TBB & Fem!Reader

Chapter 3: Rumors on Scorro

Summary: You're completing your final practicum on Kamino as part of the experimental non-clone Combat Medic program. After graduating top of your class, and being inducted into the prestigious 407th Medic Unit, you get assigned to Clone Force 99. Neither of you are excited to be working together and tensions run high. However, those tensions dissipate when the Bad Batch unexpectedly falls ill while on a covert mission. Running against an unknown clock, it’s up to you to figure out what’s causing the illness before it ultimately kills you all.

Pairing: TBB & Fem!Reader

Characters: Hunter, Echo, Crosshair, Wrecker, Tech

Tags & Warnings: BAMF fem!reader, enemies to friends, humor, action, angst, hurt/comfort, canon typical violence, mild suggestive themes, explicit medical descriptions, whump

Word Count: 5.7k

Author's Note: WE'RE BACK BABY!!! Yeah, that's right. Finally. After all of this time, the next chapter has arrived 🥳 I told y'all I would be updating my other series fics in the new year, and I meant it. This chapter has some Echo angst in it, because why not. FYI, since it's been 9 months, I went back and edited the first two chapters to match my current writing style. No plot elements changed, just style, grammar, word choice, etc. As always, please enjoy 💚

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3

As the ship leaves the stormy atmosphere of Kamino, you turn your head to look out the transparisteel viewport and are greeted by the sight of endless stars twinkling brightly across the ebony horizon. You smile wide knowing this view will never get old. The galaxy is vast and beautiful, and getting to see it up close and personal, while also doing something you love, is priceless. This really is a turning point in your life. A new chapter to be written and explored.

When the ship levels out, you unstrap from the jump seat and start exploring the Marauder. You have a feeling you’ll be spending a lot of time aboard this ship, so you want to familiarize yourself with it as much as possible. You walk back towards the stern, where Wrecker is, and look around, but there's not much to see. Then make your way back up toward the bow and step aboard the bridge. You weave between Hunter and Crosshair, and stand behind Tech.

“So, where are we going?” you ask while looking over Tech’s shoulder at the controls.

Without turning around, Tech answers. “Agamar. It’s a rather barren planet found in the outer rim. The terrain is inhospitable to most, but we will manage.”

“What’s the mission?” you ask further, excited by the prospect and intrigue.

“There’s a separatist base they want us to route,” Hunter says. “A simple in-and-out mission.”

You nod your head at the explanation, but he makes it sound like routing a heavily guarded separatist base is a walk in the park. You have to remind yourself that they are an elite force of clones and are genetically modified for the toughest conditions. It amazes you that such clones can even exist and your fascination with them grows. You wonder how they look in action and if they live up to all the rumors the regular clones whisper about on Kamino. Only time will tell.

Hunter rolls his shoulders and cracks his neck. “Get some sleep, all of you. We’ll be there in a couple hours.”

You want to say something funny, like 'aye aye captain', but decide not. Instead, you simply nod and make your way back to the bunks. Laying down on the flat rack, you stare up at the ceiling. There are too many pre-mission jitters vibrating through your body to fall asleep. Even after shutting your eyes and calming yourself, it's just not enough. So, you toss and turn, getting more aggravated that your body won’t drift off, since being tired for your first mission is not an option.

You sigh and sit up, then peer around at the others who are soundly asleep in their bunks and chairs. You’re not sure how they can fall asleep so fast. It’s either a genetic thing or a military training tactic, but whatever it is, you don’t have it. You decide to get up and pace around to try and wear yourself out, and when you do, you hear something. The ship is quiet and your ears perk up immediately at the sound. Wanting to investigate it, you quietly slip around your squad.

One by one, you pass by them, waiting and listening to hear who made the weird sound. Not Wrecker. You move on. Not Crosshair either. You check the next one. He’s making noise for sure, but not the sound you heard. It’s not Tech either. You move towards Hunter, a little nervous that he might wake up and catch you staring at him, but you pause and listen. Nope, not him. You purse your lips. That only leaves Echo. Carefully, you tip toe over to him, wait, and listen.

He's not making a sound, and with a shrug, you turn to leave, thinking you’re a level of crazy for hearing things on a quiet ship. Then it happens again. You turn back around and look at Echo. He’s sleeping rather soundly, with soft rhythmic breaths and gentle rises and falls of his chest. No breath obstructions, you note to yourself. You wait and watch for a moment, then he says it again. It’s faint, breathy, and almost unrecognizable as a word, but you hear it regardless.

Fives.

You knit your eyebrows at the odd utterance, and wait a little longer, listening to see if what he mumbles changes or if he’s repeating the same word. After a couple standard seconds, Echo says the same breathy word again. Fives. You wonder what it means. Maybe it’s a special numerical sequence from his time back on Skako Minor? You shrug at the mystery, but are happy that it’s not a breathing issue. You turn to leave him be, but he mumbles something else.

Fives come back.

Oh. Your heart drops. It’s a person. He’s dreaming about someone he knows, or maybe someone he once knew. You sigh and let your eyes turn soft, knowing exactly what it’s like to dream about loved ones. It’s been several years, but you still dream about your parents. Sometimes you can’t fill in all the gaps of your dreams as you slowly forget things, but it still pulls at your heartstrings every time they show up to give you a hug in the realm of sleep.

As your thoughts wander a yawn escapes past your lips. Finally, feeling tired and ready for sleep, you return to your bunk and crawl onto the hard surface. Laying on your back, you close your eyes and take a few deep breaths to settle yourself. You still wonder who Fives is and what they mean to Echo. Your psychology books tell you that dreams can be a subconscious escape or a subconscious desire. Knowing next to nothing about Echo’s past, it could be either one.

You take another deep breath and exhale slowly. Closing your eyes, you let yourself drift off to sleep, but in a split moment, a rough hand shakes you back awake. You shoot up and hit your head on the bunk above you. Ouch. Nursing your newly formed bump, you use your other hand to rub the sleep out of your eyes. When you come out of your groggy haze, you can hear snickering coming from the rest of the squad. Ha ha, yes, very funny. You think to yourself.

“Rise and shine,” Hunter mocks as he walks away from your bunk. “We’re here.”

Gathering your composure, you swing out of the bunk and head over to the cockpit for the landing. You look out the viewport as you enter the atmosphere of Agamar and your face lights up with excitement. This is it. Your first mission. You want to squeal, but something tells you that no one else is going to appreciate it, so you keep it internal. The ship lands on the rocky surface of the planet with only a slight wobble. Tech wasn’t kidding when he said it was inhospitable.

Your excitement grows as the squad gears up with their packs, and you follow suit the same way. You double check your pack to make sure you have all the medical necessities and do a mental headcount of your supplies. Once satisfied with your inventory, you sling it across your back and toss your bucket snug on your head. You’re all set to go on your first mission. The ship door opens, light beaming in, and your heart begins to race. This is it. This is your moment.

You take your first steps forward to leave the ship when Hunter stretches an arm out to stop you. “Not you,” Hunter says. “You’re staying here.”

“What?” you question. “But what about the mission?”

“Your mission is here,” Hunter says. “You’re staying on the ship with Echo.”

“But, sir!” you argue. Your feelings of excitement crumble. “I belong in the field!”

“You belong where I tell you you belong, medic,” Hunter snaps back. “Or are you ignoring an order from your commanding officer on your first mission?”

You huff and clench your fist. “No, sir."

“I didn’t think so,” Hunter says, then turns to face Echo. “We may need a quick extraction, so keep your ears on.”

“Understood,” Echo acknowledges with a nod.

Hunter nods back and heads out of the Marauder with the rest of the squad, well, the rest of the squad except you. You remove your bucket, plop down on your bunk with an angry grunt, and lean your head back against the wall. This entire assignment has been one big pissing match, and every time you think you’re making progress, you get sidelined. How are you supposed to make Kix proud if you don’t see any action? You release another angry grunt and cross your arms.

“Careful,” Echo says. “You’ll lose your voice if you keep grunting like that.”

You roll your eyes. “Aren’t you upset being stuck here?”

“No,” Echo answers. “It’s not unusual for someone to be left back with the ship. Keeps people from stealing it.”

With such a small squad of men to work with, you guess that makes sense, and since Echo is your unofficial chaperone, it makes sense that you were left on the ship with him. However, even though you try to explain it to yourself in those practical terms, you still think it's to spite you. You sigh. At this rate, you’ll never get to prove your worth as a Combat Medic to any of them. To these special clones, you’re just useless dead weight and not worth their time.

As the planetary rotation moves forward, you find odd things around the ship to busy yourself with, but you’re still bored. Echo is not much of a conversationalist and he hasn’t moved from his spot in the cockpit. You end up sprawling yourself across the seat in the gunner’s nest and looking out the window at whatever draws your attention. There’s some trees, a little snow on the ground, and a few stray wildlife that come into view. Nothing too spectacular, that’s for sure.

Finally, after hours of sitting by yourself, you decide to go back to the cockpit and sit with Echo. You're still curious about this Fives person he mentioned in his sleep, and you think maybe now might be a good time to ask him about it. You walk into the cockpit and sit down in the chair across from him, bending one leg up onto the chair and resting your chin atop your knee. Echo silently acknowledges your presence and returns to looking at the setting sun over the horizon.

You fidget with your fingers as you mull over whether to ask him about what you overheard last night. It might be private, and he may not want to tell you, but your curiosity is getting the better of you. “Echo,” you ask. “Who's Fives?”

Echo shifts uncomfortably in his seat and stays silent for a couple of minutes. “How do you know that name?” he asks. His words hang heavy in the air.

“You…” you begin, then pause, unsure of how to tell him. You don't want to sound creepy, but honesty is the best policy. “You said it in your sleep.”

Echo sighs, but doesn't turn his gaze from the orange sunset. “Shouldn’t you have been sleeping too?”

“I’m not used to sleeping on ships,” you answer. You can tell by the tone of his voice that this is a sore subject and you're starting to regret bringing it up.

Echo swivels his chair to face you and worries his lip. His eyes are full of sadness and his countenance is engrossed in pain as he searches for the words he's looking for. A small smile flashes across his lips. You wonder if he's thinking about a memory.

“He was my brother,” Echo says, his voice quiet at the strain of saying his thoughts out loud.

You can tell by his choice of words and his tone of voice that this brother isn’t around anymore and you feel a twinge of sadness settle in your gut. You understand a thing or two about the loss of a loved one. “What happened to him?” you ask.

“He was murdered,” Echo says, his fist tightening as he looks back out the viewport. “By one of our own.”

Your expression turns from sadness to shock and then confusion. A clone killing a clone? Does that even happen? Why would a clone do that? Your mind rushes a mile a minute trying to wrap your head around the idea, but you cannot seem to reconcile it. It’s too bizarre of a concept to comprehend. Every clone you've ever met was a brother to the one next to him. So, for a clone to kill another clone, it’s like a family member killing another family member. It’s unheard of.

“I’m sorry, Echo,” you offer as a consolation. “You must miss him.”

“Yeah,” Echo says, his voice distant. “I do.”

“I miss my parents all the time,” you say, trying to bridge the gap and build a connection.

“I remember you mentioning they’re dead,” Echo says as he turns to face you.

“About ten years ago,” you add. Now it's your turn to look out at the sunset.

“I’m sorry,” Echo says.

“It’s fine,” you shrug. “It hurts, but it doesn’t hurt like it used to. I know they’re out there watching over me, somewhere.”

Echo snorts. “You believe in that Jedi force stuff do ya?”

“Not really,” you answer with a small laugh. “But everyone needs to believe in something.”

“That’s fair,” Echo says.

“When I look up at the stars,” you begin with a smile while staring fondly out at the horizon, “it’s almost like I can feel them with me, you know? Watching over me as I make my way in the galaxy.”

“Sounds nice,” Echo says.

“I bet Fives is watching you too,” you say, then look at Echo with soft eyes. “He hasn’t left you alone, just like my parents haven’t left me.”

“Maybe,” Echo shrugs, then chuckles. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he came back to haunt me.” His brief small smile fades as his countenance reverts back to a frown.

“We’ll see them again some day," you say, trying to stay hopeful. “I just know it.”

“That would be something, wouldn’t it?” Echo half-jokes, but you can hear the part of his heart that wants what you're saying to be true.

He wants to see his brother again, desperately. So much so that he calls out to him while he sleeps. He must agonize over Fives’ death. You understand because you’ve been there. You’ve stared death in the face, the kind of death that leaves you thoroughly alone. You don't need to understand psychology to know what his subconscious thinks about on a daily basis, and your heart hurts for him, but you know there's nothing in your medpack to mend a shattered heart.

You and Echo stare out of the cockpit in silence and watch the sun fall beyond the horizon, sharing in this solemn moment and appreciating the company. The veil of night arrives and the stars begin to shine in the dark sky. The billions of bright burning lights feel comforting. The stars aren't very visible on Kamino, but here, on this planet, they are bright and beautiful. You relax your shoulders and lean back, thinking that maybe this assignment isn’t so bad after all.

However, your sweet moment is interrupted by Hunter’s voice over the comms. He’s calling in that quick extraction now and by the amount of yelling and blaster fire in the background, this is going to be a hot one. Echo relays the affirmation, sets the coordinates, and lets Hunter know that both of you are on the way to pick them up. You're slightly surprised that Echo included you in the transmission, but now is not the time to be celebrating your first taste of inclusivity.

“Civvy, strap in,” Echo orders as he starts pressing buttons and flipping switches to get the ship going. “This is going to be a bumpy ride and I don’t need you falling out of the ship.”

Ah, there it is. You sigh and head back towards the jump seats and strap yourself in for the wild ride ahead. Echo expertly maneuvers the ship to the squad's location and brings it in low so they can climb on board. You can hear the blaster fire outside and as the door opens to the ship, you watch them file in while firing off blaster bolts to cover each other. It’s the first time you’ve seen any of them in action and you're a little awestruck. They don’t move like other clones.

Tech next to Echo and Hunter yells for them to get them out of here. The ship moves again, this time more aggressively, as the enemy continues to fire at the Marauder. Wrecker moves to the gunner’s nest and shoots down the vulture droids that are following behind. You tightly grip the bars on the jump seat as the ship rocks from the blasts. Thankfully, the shields are up. The ship flips upside down, sideways, and every other way you can think of to out maneuver the droids.

At long last, the ship breaches the atmosphere and moves into space. Tech initiates the hyperdrive and pulls the handle down to enter into hyperspace. Once safe in a hyperspace lane, you let out the breath you were holding in, then flick the safety release on the jump seat and push them over your head. You get up from the seat and wobble forward, not realizing your legs turned to jelly from all of the excitement, and let your feet stabilize before trying to walk.

“Woah, that was fun!” Wrecker hollers as he brushes by you and moves towards the cockpit. “Echo, you should have seen this place. It was crazy.”

“Not as crazy as being sling-shot across a ravine,” Crosshair grumbles and pushes past you. He sits down in one of the swivel chairs and starts cleaning his rifle in silence.

“I said I was sorry,” Wrecker apologizes. “But we won!”

“Correction,” Tech says as he lifts a pointed finger in the air. “I won.”

Crosshair rolls his eyes and pulls a few credits from his pocket and hands them to Tech.

“Much obliged,” Tech says as he stuffs the credits in one of his many satchels.

The exchange has you lost in bewilderment. Clearly, something happened during the mission and you’re curious to know the details. You look at Echo, hoping he'll ask for more information about it, but he doesn’t, leaving you more curious. You do find it odd, however, that they had some form of amusement out on the battlefield. From your time on Kamino, most clones don't find blaster fire fun. Clone Force 99 really is different compared to the rest of the clone forces.

“I assume your mission was a success?” Hunter asks while walking by you, breaking you from your thoughts.

“Yes… sir,” you answer with a twinge of hesitancy, a little unsure of what your mission was other than staying on the ship with Echo.

“Good,” Hunter says. He reclines in one of the empty swivel seats and clasps his hands behind his head. “Glad to hear it.”

You can’t tell if he’s being serious or if he's trying to make fun of you. Either way, you brush it off and focus on more pressing matters, like what's next on the mission agenda. Will you go back to Kamino? Or will you wait for more orders? That’s what good soldiers do, isn’t it? Follow orders? You’re still unfamiliar with all of this, so you’re not sure what to ask or what to do with yourself. Rather than make new issues by asking more questions, you retreat back to your bunk to relax.

But the boredom of waiting creeps in and you start to doze off. Your eyelids are heavy even though you barely spent any energy this rotation. It doesn't take you long to remember that you didn’t get much sleep the night before and now that the adrenaline is wearing off, your body is telling you it needs rest. You don't fight it and let your body go to sleep, hoping you won’t be woken up. As a medic, you must get rest whenever you can so you can be at your best at all times.

This time you wake up on your own terms, when your body feels rested. You’re not sure how long you were out, but no one bothered you so you assume everyone is still waiting for new orders to come across. You sit up in your bunk, without hitting your head this time, and stretch out your arms. You roll your shoulders and crack your neck. The bunks aren’t exactly soft, but they do their job. Swinging your legs over the side of the bunk, you get up to use the refresher.

As you head towards the refresher, the rest of the squad is huddled around and speaking amongst each other. Hunter looks serious and has his arms crossed, which can’t mean anything good, and Echo is arguing with him, again. You forget the refresher for a moment and walk over to add your presence to the mix. Hunter notices and glances at you before turning back to Echo. Not realizing where you are standing, Crosshair gives you a small jab on your behind with his rifle.

The sudden touch startles you. “What was that for?”

“You’re blocking my view,” Crosshair hisses. “Move.”

You roll your eyes. “You could've just asked me to move, you know. That's borderline harassment.”

“If you looked more like a window than a door, I wouldn’t have to borderline harass you,” Crosshair snarks and flicks his toothpick in your face.

Your nose scrunches and eyes close when the little wooden projectile hits your face. As your frustration builds, you take a deep breath to calm yourself. You want nothing more than to tell that sniper where he can shove his rifle, but you won't. It's not worth it because it will only fuel his bullying further. Instead, you choose to let it go. This time. There are points where you will cross the line, and he keeps dancing around that line. If he ever crosses it, you'll let him know.

“Can we get back to more important things?” Hunter asks, shifting his gaze between you and Crosshair.

Echo huffs and shakes his head. "I don't like it."

"We don't have to like it," Hunter says. "Orders are orders."

"What orders?" you ask.

Hunter swivels to face you. "There's rumors of an imperial base operating out of Scorro." Tech pulls up a holo of the planet and Hunter continues his explanation. "According to our intel, the GAR sent a squad of clones to scout the base, but their comms suddenly went silent. Another squad of clones were sent after them with the same result. Now they want us to investigate."

"Do they know what happened to the clones?" you ask, curious as to what's causing Echo's skepticism.

"No," Hunter crosses his arms. "They were never recovered."

"No one went back to get them?" you ask.

"It would be a waste of resources," Tech adds. "Besides, based on the trend, sending another clone squadron would yield the same results."

"But aren't we another clone squadron?" you ask, this time your nerves bleed through.

"Stop worrying!" Wrecker exclaims. "We can take on whatever they throw at us!"

His words don't make you feel better about the situation. While Echo is the only one openly objecting to the new mission, Hunter's facial expressions tell a different story than what he's leading everyone to believe. Your first inkling was the fact that he hasn't shoved you aside for this conversation. In fact, he's answered your questions without issue. He's serious about this in a way he hasn't been since you've met him. The fact that Hunter is worrying, has you worrying.

"I still don't like it," Echo frowns. "How'd they lose two clone squadrons without so much as one distress signal?"

"Maybe a new type of droid?" you offer. "Or their signals were jammed?"

"Groundbreaking ideas," Crosshair says.

"Everything is a valid option," Echo adds.

Crosshair rolls his eyes.

"Enough," Hunter says. "We're going to Scorro to investigate the rumors and to find the missing clones. Double-check our supplies and prepare for anything."

With the sergeant's final words, everyone scatters to prepare for the mission, except for Tech who punches in the new coordinates and sets the course for Scorro. You linger in the cockpit, silently observing Hunter as he pulls out his knife and twirls it around his fingers. The mission makes you nervous even though it shouldn't. You'll probably end up staying on the ship again, but maybe that's not a bad thing. You shake your head at the thought. That's not why you're here.

"Sergeant–"

"You too," Hunter says before you get a chance to ask. "You're coming with us."

You smile and nod. "Thank you, sir."

"Don't get the wrong idea," Hunter adds. "I need Echo for this mission, and I'm not leaving you alone on the ship."

"Yes, sir," you frown then turn back towards the bunks to get yourself situated.

Of course it would be too good to be true. For a second, you thought he actually wanted you on this mission, but he just wants to keep an eye on you. As a medic, you can help the missing troopers if they need medical attention, which you're confident they will. Your presence on the mission should be vital, not just an afterthought. Although, you shouldn't be upset that you're going on a mission, but you wish it was because of merit and not for the sake of babysitting.

Regardless, you will do your best on this mission and prove to Clone Force 99 that you are a good medic. That they need you. You're not sure how, but you will. When you get back to your bunk, you triple-check the supplies in your pack and stock as many bacta patches and stim shots as you can fit, plus some essential fluid and mineral packets, ration bars, and a few medical odds and ends that make sense to bring along. You want to be prepared for anything.

With your preparations made, it's another waiting game until you reach Scorro. You don't remember reading about that planet in your studies, but apparently it's rather primitive in nature, which is why no one has settled on it. It's an abandoned planet, making it a great outpost for mercenaries, pirates, and separatists. Pulling out your data-pad, you do a little more research to see what you can find out, but come up with the same dismal results that your holo-texts had.

It's not much longer before the Marauder drops out of hyperspace and the olive-green planet comes into view. When the holo-text said that Scorro was primitive, it wasn't kidding. It looks new and unabused by modern progress, and its vegetal hue is highly alluring. Your curiosity has now surpassed your trepidation about the rumors and missing clones. You're excited. This is a great opportunity, even if it's dangerous. The closer you get to the planet, the faster your heart beats.

“According to the scanners, there are no active fauna on this planet,” Tech states. "But the air is breathable."

“Just because the air is breathable doesn’t mean it’s good for you,” you point out. “Carbon monoxide is breathable but you’ll die before you figure out it’s bad for you.”

“Correction,” Tech adds. "The air is non-toxic towards human life-forms."

"Glad we could sort that one out," Crosshair says. "Any more words of wisdom?"

You narrow your eyes at him. "No."

"Take us in," Hunter says. "Land just outside the coordinates of the last clone squadron."

"Affirmative," Tech says, then flips a few switches before piloting the ship into the planet's atmosphere.

Once the ship has landed, Hunter addresses the group. "Our mission is to locate the two missing clone squadrons and investigate the rumors about an separatist base of operations. We'll use teams of two and spread out in an 800 meter radius from the last known coordinates. Keep the comm lines open and have your blasters at the ready."

Everyone nods and gears up, including you. Before you put your bucket on, you glance at the medic mark on your shoulder pauldron. No matter what happens, you have a job to do. You're a medic first. These men, your squad, are in your care and it's your responsibility to make sure they all survive. Steeling yourself for what's to come, you bite back every lick of fear that tries to take hold in your mind. You've trained hard for this, and you're not going to get cold feet now.

The side loading ramp opens and the bright sunlight of the planet blasts into the dimly lit ship. No turning back now. You follow the rest of the squad out of the ship and step onto the fresh earth of Scorro. For someone who grew up on Coruscant and spent the last cycle on Kamino, this much vegetation is mesmerizing. The sun is so warm, and the earth beneath your feet is so soft. This virgin planet is breathtaking. You take a few more steps forward, then Hunter stops.

"Tech, Crosshair, go east," Hunter says while pointing in that direction. "Wrecker and I will go north. Echo and Civvy, you'll go west.

The group nods and heads out in their respective directions.

"Stay frosty men," Hunter says over the comms. "There's no telling what we'll be up against out here."

You and Echo silently walk towards the western end of the perimeter, keeping your eyes peeled for any signs of the clone troopers or separatists. After a couple minutes, the silence grates on your nerves, but Echo seems focused right now. A little too focused. You know this mission bothered him from the beginning, but there seems to be something else about the way he carries himself that indicates it's not just about the mission being odd. There's something deeper.

As you continue forward, your foot kicks something hard. Looking down, you catch a glimpse of the familiar white plastoid clone trooper helmet, which is attached to a body shrouded by tall weeds. Your stomach flips. You weren't expecting to find one of them so quickly.

"Sarge," you say in the comms. "I found a trooper." Crouching down, you check for a pulse, but as you expected, there is none. "He's dead."

"We're making our way to your position now," Hunter says. "How'd he die?"

While your medic training didn't have an autopsy course, you inspect the body for the usual suspects. The armor is still intact and there's no signs of a struggle, which you find odd. There's no blaster marks, claw marks, bites, or scratches on the armor either. The black bodysuit isn't even ripped. He must have died from something. You pull back some of the black bodysuit and notice the tissue is necrotizing, but you don't see anything suspicious. Then you scan the body.

"Civvy, status," Hunter interjects over comms.

"I'm not sure how he died," you admit while reviewing the results of the scan. Echo looks over the body too, but doesn't come up with anything substantial. Not that you needed a second opinion.

"What do you mean you're not sure?" Hunter asks. "You're a medic, you should know how people die."

"There's no wounds," you explain. "He looks normal. Fine, even. Besides being dead." You don't mention it, but the fact that there are no organisms feasting on the clone's flesh also baffles you. You'd figure there would be more decay markers, but there's not even a single worm.

Hunter and Wrecker make it to your position and Hunter looks over the body, confirming what you said. "Then how the kriff did he die?"

You look up at Hunter from your crouched position next to the body and shrug. "We'd need a full autopsy to determine that, but the scans indicate no internal injuries either."

"So, he died from nothing?" Echo asks.

You shrug again. "Maybe he had a heart attack. That doesn't show up on portable scanners."

"Eighteen clone troopers died of a heart attack?" Hunter asks, his voice sounding distant.

"No," you rebut. "But maybe this one did."

Hunter points past you and you stand up to see what he wants you to look at. You tilt your head from side to side, scanning the area he's pointing at, when a glint of white pops up on your HUD. Then another. And another. Your eyes widen and your mouth gapes. The ground is littered with seventeen more troopers half-covered in tall weeds. The first squad and the second squad, dead mere meters from each other. You've never seen so many dead bodies before.

You feel your stomach grow queasy, and you rip off your helmet to vomit. As a medical student, you've seen cadavers, held organs in your hands, been bathed in blood, but nothing prepared you for the sight of a mass death. There's something menacing and sickly about it. You know most clones are never retrieved from battlegrounds and you know most clones will never see a proper burial, but knowing and witnessing are two different things. It's heartbreaking.

"You all right?" Echo asks.

You pant from the spasmic exertion, but find your voice. "I'm fine."

Tech and Crosshair arrive at your position soon after, and take note of the bodies. Everyone feels it now, the pressure looming thickly in the air. Something happened on this planet. Something killed these eighteen troopers and it killed them silently. There's an anxiety that creeps in as you wonder what it possibly could be. What is the silent hunter? How does it find its victims? And how can you and your squad escape from it? Perhaps, it may even be too late.

"I've got a bad feeling about this," Echo says to Hunter.

Hunter sighs. "Me too."

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3

Masterlist

A03

Tag List: @nahoney22 @commander-sunshine @sunshinesdaydream @padawancat97 @verndusk @sun-roach @coraex @lickylickylicky @homemade-clones @523rdrebel @clonemedickix @starrylothcat @moonwrecked @ladyzirkonia @stunkbiggu @cdblake1565 @ladytano420 @moonlightwarriorqueen @anxiouspineapple99 @clonethirstingisreal @dreamie411 @trixie2023 @cw80831 @ca77m3anna @reader6898 @kimiheartblade @dukeoftheblackstar @arc-trooper-8008 @knightprincess @kell-of-storms @msmeredithrose @skellymom @roboticsuccubus83 @totally-not-your-babe @t3mpest98 @asyas-daydreaming @thestarwarslesbian @betizda @skippyhopperwisdom @drafthorsemath @idoubleswearimawriter @kashasenpai @arctrooper69 @bambambunny @pb-jellybeans @techs-goggles9902

Join my taglist HERE

Tip me a tea on Ko-fi HERE

85 notes · View notes

absolutebl · 1 year

Text

This Week in BL

June 2023 Wk 2

Being a highly subjective assessment of one tiny corner of the interwebs. Organized by which ones (in each category) I’m enjoying most.

Ongoing Series - Thai

Step By Step (Tues WeTV & Gaga) ep 7 of 10 - I really adore the family/household dynamics in this show. All the relationships between siblings are so well executed. All the tension and sub text and covert glances in the first “modeling” sequence was so good. I really want to watch the BL within this BL. Bruce is THE BEST. Jeng shutting down everyone with a cool few words is genius (especially given the curt sharp flat way he speaks Thai). Why does nobody have parasols or sun hats or sunshades or sunglasses or anything? I’m actually not mad about seeing an attempted reunion with the ex, bc we are getting to see both that (and how) they once were good together, and also the cracks that drove them apart (and will not allow them to ultimately be together a 2nd time around). I do feel sorry for Jeng, he moved too slowly and lost the 1st round. The captions were not good in the trunk seen, but trust me it was totally hilarious.

La Pluie (Sat iQIYI) ep 7 of 10 - I finally figured out why I am so tense around this show. In openly taking to task and challenging the soulmates trope, this narrative is telling viewers not to trust it’s core trope - which means we cannot trust the main couple to end happily, nor can we trust those characters who believe most strongly in fated mates (Pat & Mai). This means I, personally, not only can’t rely on an HEA but (as someone who also does not believe in soulmates) I am not entirely sure I even WANT an HEA. This has NEVER happened to me before. It makes me uncomfortable because that’s a core part of my identify with these shows. I mean, good job La Pluie, but also.... huh. Back to this ep: Uh oh. The crush is obvious and the soulmate knows what’s up now. The sex scene twist was v interesting, v gay, and v unusual in a BL. Unfortunately it’s still a BL so the faen fatal just HAD to appear. Will there ever be one out of Thailand where this trope doesn’t show up? Next week is the tried & true uke damsels off into the woods alone. Sigh.

Our Skyy 2 (Bad Buddy & 1k*) eps 12-16fin - Jimmy, baby, why so hot in an engineering smock? Please have mercy. Aw, Marc is back in yet ANOTHER BL. Definitely the current record holder for most BLs at any one time. (His filming schedule must’ve been insane at the beginning of this year!) PatPran are still great, and their eps this had me hooting with laughter (startling the cat). I forgot how much I enjoyed this show and cast. (Ohm looks great with longer hair, but also he’s lost a lot of weight. I hope he’s OK.) OhmNanon give pitch perfect LTR energy. Throwing EarthMix into the, erm, mix is fun if awkward. NO SINGING. 2 damsels in the forest! Also PatPran = geniuses at mock fighting. So much flirting. It was all quite adorbs. But me-thinks Chief & Tian have been eating moonlight chicken. Full review below.

Be My Favorite (Fri YouTube) ep 3 of 10? - was enjoying it up until the last bit, why so digusted by smooches? Bad GMMTV no green tea for you. Trash watch here! Rollercoaster about to go DOWWNNNN.

Luminous Solution (Sat Gaga) ep 3 of 6 - I still only like the high school characters + Dome (WHY so gorgeous?). Is he a magical spirit too? Also, the subs were well off kilter.

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

Our Dining Table AKA Bokura no Shokutaku (Japan Thurs Gaga) ep 10 fin - God they’re so cute. This show used the manga as a storyboard, so I knew the “crisis of faith over possibility of loss” would happen. Still in live action this felt tonally off. While understandable given Yutaka’s character, and ultimately particularly important for the dad and a relationship with the family, I don’t know we needed it in this BL. The book does have a better ending second scene, but it wouldn’t be possible to do it on screen easily. Ultimately, this show had a simple, touching, quiet end to it. That’s very like the show as a whole. I did love it - it’s been top of my list all along. Full review after the special airs.

Love Tractor (Korea Weds iQIYI) eps 1-2 of 8 - I LOVE IT SO MUCH. IT IS EVERYTHING. SHUT UP I AM FERRIL FOR THE BEAUTIFUL CITY BOY AND THE YOUNG FARMER. Come on. Korea. SRS? Plus some language play? I just go die now.

Star Struck (Korea iQIYI & Gaga) ep 7-8 fin - Man this was a difficult show for me. I know we’re supposed to identify with HanJoon but I really felt for YooJae. I’ve been in his position more often than I care to count, and it’s terrible to lose a friend because they caught feelings and you did not. It’s an awful thing to hold a friendship hostage on condition of a romantic relationship. Especially if the other person is not sexually interested in you! All that said, the boyfriend ep was okay. Not sure I believed in this relationship, but it was cute enough. The final ep was (how do I put this?) a loser. We spent a lot of time with terrible home lives and then a semi happy for now final scene? Whatever. Full review below.

Vian the series (Vietnam YouTube ) ep 6 of 12 - somehow I keep missing this one, I’ll catch it next week.

Naked Dinner AKA Zenra Meshi (Japan Fri Gaga) ep 9 of 12 - I think the Taiwanese boss is my favorite character. Japan rarely (if ever ) trots out the faen fatal trope. I mean I named it with a Thai word for a reason, it’s not from origin yaoi at all. Yet still there she is. Sigh. This show.

Stupid Genius (Vietnam Fri YouTube) ep 1 of 6 - RL Studio (Stupid Boys Stupid Love) bringing us yet another high school set VBL. It’s actually not bad. I see a lot of common faces whom I’ve enjoyed in past VBLs.

It’s Airing But ...

House of Stars (Thai Mon iQIYI) 12 eps - I bounced at ep 3. Will binge if told it is worth it at end.

Stay (Pinoy YouTube) 7 eps - It’s mostly in English and set in LA so I’m not bothering but the first one did drop.

Ever After (Pinoy ????) - I got nothing.

Takumi-kun Series 6: Nagai Nagai Monogatari no Hajimari no Asa (Japan Sun ????) 10 eps - NO ONE ASKED FOR THIS and no, I have no idea where to get it, why would I? (Say it with me everyone: Oh Japan, must you?*)

Boys Love Omegaverse (Japan ????) - honestly tho? Who tf cares? You’ll still tell me if you find it, because inquiring minds... Irony of this airing at the same time as Takumi-kun. Full circle much, Japan?

Tin Tem Jai Special (Thai ????) - honestly I checked Gaga & iQiyi in my territory (craptastic hotel) and neither had it listed so I quickly gave up. I mean OF COURSE I WOULD LIKE TO SEE Lee Long Shi in a bathtub, who wouldn’t? But...

Just because I didn’t watch the special doesn’t mean I can’t gank Lee Long Shi wearing nothing but soap bubbles for you.

I’m not a monster.

Ended This Week

Our Skyy 2 final 4 eps thoughts: This was an interesting combination, and don’t get me wrong I very much enjoyed it, but it felt like the story was carried by PatPran’s characters while the setting and narrative followed an ATOTS arc - ultimately disjointed. OhmNanon are so bold and vibrant they’re too stark a tonal contrast to EarthMix’s more refined and elegant approach, so for me the screen presences and the style of story clashed. It was like a bouquet made up of tulips & roses: they are both flowers and they’re both pretty, but I feel like they actually belong in different vases. Still, enjoyable. And I got a crying kiss. Always makes me happy. Definitely the best of this bunch, and probably the best Our Skyy (and I genuinely loved both the NLMG historical installment and SOTUS.) 8/10

Star Struck. A friends to lovers story that felt more friends to tolerant yet disinterested partner. It was more about challenges with parents and class strife. I would’ve been disappointed if the show hadn’t come out of nowhere so I had no expectations. But as KBLs go, don’t bother. 6/10

Next Week Looks Like This:

Starting:

6/15 Tokyo in April AKA Shigatsu no Tokyo wa (Japan Gaga) 8 eps - Based on a yaoi, this is a reunion romance that takes place in an office. Japan does Our Dating Sim? Yes please.

Still Coming - June 2023

6/22 About Us but Not About Us (Pinoy movie from 2022 on Prime) - A professor grieving the loss of his partner meets an ambitious literature student.

6/24 Why You (Khmer BL ????) - Billed as a horror romance, not sure if this is a movie or a series where it will air... nothing except that it exists.

6/24 Tie The Knot AKA Under the Same Sky (Pinoy movie on Prime) Trailer - I guess Prime is coming for our Pinoy BL? From OXIN Films (Rainbow Prince), announced for 2022 based on a true story, Briggs's family runs a bridal business but he has never had a chance to fall in love until he meets Shao, a groom to be.

6/25 Dinosaur Love (Thai iQIYI) Trailer 5 eps - from Ultimate Troop about a uni student, Rak, whose partner cheats on him with Rak's best friend. This gives bad boy hazer Dino an opportunity to hit on Rak at last. From The Yearbook people so I will not watch this as it airs. After Remember Me? Never again with them.

2023 forthcoming BL master post (see comments, some are inaccurate, NOT KEPT UPDATED)

THIS WEEK’S BEST MOMENTS

Bruce is so damn fantastic in this show.

Consent comes in all different forms. (both Step by Step)

Fight fight fight!

Sex sex sex blow job! (both La Pluie)

Smartest boy in the show.

Not enough InkPa... never enough. Never never never!

Love the suit.

All from the Our Skyy 2 BB + ATOTS cross over.

(last week)

Current Kpop earworm? IVE’s I Am

118 notes · View notes

bfpnola · 10 months

Text

introductory excerpts on COINTELPRO

it came to my awareness that some folks don't know what COINTELPRO is still, so imma drop some excerpts from the wikipedia page. ofc there are a billion other resources you can check out, especially firsthand accounts, but this is always a good place to start! link attached below:

[Note that the embedded link above's photo has the following caption: "COINTELPRO memo proposing a plan to expose the pregnancy of actress Jean Seberg, a financial supporter of the Black Panther Party, hoping to "possibly cause her embarrassment or tarnish her image with the general public". Covert campaigns to publicly discredit activists and destroy their interpersonal relationships were a common tactic used by COINTELPRO agents."]

The Introduction:

COINTELPRO (syllabic abbreviation derived from Counter Intelligence Program; 1956–1971) was a series of covert and illegal[1][2] projects actively conducted by the United States Federal Bureau of Investigation (FBI) aimed at surveilling, infiltrating, discrediting, and disrupting domestic American political organizations.[3][4] FBI records show COINTELPRO resources targeted groups and individuals the FBI[5] deemed subversive,[6] including feminist organizations,[7][8] the Communist Party USA,[9] anti–Vietnam War organizers, activists of the civil rights and Black power movements (e.g. Martin Luther King Jr., the Nation of Islam, and the Black Panther Party), environmentalist and animal rights organizations, the American Indian Movement (AIM), Chicano and Mexican-American groups like the Brown Berets and the United Farm Workers, independence movements (including Puerto Rican independence groups such as the Young Lords and the Puerto Rican Socialist Party), a variety of organizations that were part of the broader New Left, and white supremacist groups such as the Ku Klux Klan[10][11] and the far-right group National States' Rights Party.[12]

Methods COINTELPRO Utilized

According to attorney Brian Glick in his book War at Home, the FBI used five main methods during COINTELPRO:

Infiltration: Agents and informers did not merely spy on political activists. Their main purpose was to discredit, disrupt and negatively redirect action. Their very presence served to undermine trust and scare off potential supporters. The FBI and police exploited this fear to smear genuine activists as agents.

Psychological warfare: The FBI and police used a myriad of "dirty tricks" to undermine movements. They planted false media stories and published bogus leaflets and other publications in the name of targeted groups. They forged correspondence, sent anonymous letters, and made anonymous telephone calls. They spread misinformation about meetings and events, set up pseudo movement groups run by government agents, and manipulated or strong-armed parents, employers, landlords, school officials, and others to cause trouble for activists. They used bad-jacketing to create suspicion about targeted activists, sometimes with lethal consequences.[74]

Harassment via the legal system: The FBI and police abused the legal system to harass dissidents and make them appear to be criminals. Officers of the law gave perjured testimony and presented fabricated evidence as a pretext for false arrests and wrongful imprisonment. They discriminatorily enforced tax laws and other government regulations and used conspicuous surveillance, "investigative" interviews, and grand jury subpoenas in an effort to intimidate activists and silence their supporters.[73][75]

Illegal force: The FBI conspired with local police departments to threaten dissidents; to conduct illegal break-ins in order to search dissident homes; and to commit vandalism, assaults, beatings and assassinations.[73] The objective was to frighten or eliminate dissidents and disrupt their movements.

Undermine public opinion: One of the primary ways the FBI targeted organizations was by challenging their reputations in the community and denying them a platform to gain legitimacy. Hoover specifically designed programs to block leaders from "spreading their philosophy publicly or through the communications media". Furthermore, the organization created and controlled negative media meant to undermine black power organizations. For instance, they oversaw the creation of "documentaries" skillfully edited to paint the Black Panther Party as aggressive, and false newspapers that spread misinformation about party members. The ability of the FBI to create distrust within and between revolutionary organizations tainted their public image and weakened chances at unity and public support.[49]

The FBI specifically developed tactics intended to heighten tension and hostility between various factions in the black power movement, for example between the Black Panthers and the US Organization. For instance, the FBI sent a fake letter to the US Organization exposing a supposed Black Panther plot to murder the head of the US Organization, Ron Karenga. They then intensified this by spreading falsely attributed cartoons in the black communities pitting the Black Panther Party against the US Organization.[49] This resulted in numerous deaths, among which were San Diego Black Panther Party members John Huggins, Bunchy Carter and Sylvester Bell.[73] Another example of the FBI's anonymous letter writing campaign is how they turned the Blackstone Rangers head, Jeff Fort, against former ally Fred Hampton, by stating that Hampton had a hit on Fort.[49] They also were instrumental in developing the rift between Black Panther Party leaders Eldridge Cleaver and Huey Newton, as executed through false letters inciting the two leaders of the Black Panther Party.[49]

...

In order to eliminate black militant leaders whom they considered dangerous, the FBI is believed to have worked with local police departments to target specific individuals,[78] accuse them of crimes they did not commit, suppress exculpatory evidence and falsely incarcerate them. Elmer "Geronimo" Pratt, a Black Panther Party leader, was incarcerated for 27 years before a California Superior Court vacated his murder conviction, ultimately freeing him. Appearing before the court, an FBI agent testified that he believed Pratt had been framed, because both the FBI and the Los Angeles Police Department knew he had not been in the area at the time the murder occurred.[79][80]

...

In 1969 the FBI special agent in San Francisco wrote Hoover that his investigation of the Black Panther Party had concluded that in his city, at least, the Panthers were primarily engaged in feeding breakfast to children. Hoover fired back a memo implying the agent's career goals would be directly affected by his supplying evidence to support Hoover's view that the Black Panther Party was "a violence-prone organization seeking to overthrow the Government by revolutionary means".[84]

Hoover supported using false claims to attack his political enemies. In one memo he wrote: "Purpose of counterintelligence action is to disrupt the Black Panther Party and it is immaterial whether facts exist to substantiate the charge."[85]

Intended Effects of COINTELPRO

The intended effect of the FBI's COINTELPRO was to "expose, disrupt, misdirect, or otherwise neutralize" groups that the FBI officials believed were "subversive"[58] by instructing FBI field operatives to:[59] 1. Create a negative public image for target groups (for example through surveilling activists and then releasing negative personal information to the public) 2. Break down internal organization by creating conflicts (for example, by having agents exacerbate racial tensions, or send anonymous letters to try to create conflicts) 3. Create dissension between groups (for example, by spreading rumors that other groups were stealing money) 4. Restrict access to public resources (for example, by pressuring non-profit organizations to cut off funding or material support) 5. Restrict the ability to organize protest (for example, through agents promoting violence against police during planning and at protests) 6. Restrict the ability of individuals to participate in group activities (for example, by character assassinations, false arrests, surveillance)

When did they start?

Centralized operations under COINTELPRO officially began in August 1956 with a program designed to "increase factionalism, cause disruption and win defections" inside the Communist Party USA (CPUSA). Tactics included anonymous phone calls, Internal Revenue Service (IRS) audits, and the creation of documents that would divide the American communist organization internally.[9] An October 1956 memo from Hoover reclassified the FBI's ongoing surveillance of black leaders, including it within COINTELPRO, with the justification that the movement was infiltrated by communists.[31] In 1956, Hoover sent an open letter denouncing Dr. T. R. M. Howard, a civil rights leader, surgeon, and wealthy entrepreneur in Mississippi who had criticized FBI inaction in solving recent murders of George W. Lee, Emmett Till, and other African Americans in the South.[32] When the Southern Christian Leadership Conference (SCLC), an African-American civil rights organization, was founded in 1957, the FBI began to monitor and target the group almost immediately, focusing particularly on Bayard Rustin, Stanley Levison, and eventually Martin Luther King Jr.[33]

How did the news get out about COINTELPRO?

The program was secret until March 8, 1971, when the Citizens' Commission to Investigate the FBI burgled an FBI field office in Media, Pennsylvania, took several dossiers, and exposed the program by passing this material to news agencies.[1][54] The boxing match known as the Fight of the Century between Muhammad Ali and Joe Frazier in March 1971 provided cover for the activist group to successfully pull off the burglary. Muhammad Ali was a COINTELPRO target because he had joined the Nation of Islam and the anti-war movement.[55] Many news organizations initially refused to immediately publish the information, with the notable exception of The Washington Post. After affirming the reliability of the documents, it published them on the front page (in defiance of the Attorney General's request), prompting other organizations to follow suit. Within the year, Director J. Edgar Hoover declared that the centralized COINTELPRO was over, and that all future counterintelligence operations would be handled case by case.[56][57]

#reaux speaks #black panther party #fbi corruption #cointelpro #counterinsurgency #revolution #martin luther king jr #black power #intersectional feminism #indigenous #young lords #history #wikipedia #communism #socialism #j edgar hoover #mccarthyism

91 notes · View notes

writerlyhabits · 1 year

Text

Ni Ceta

Pairing: Din Djarin x female reader

Word Count: 5.7K

Summary: Your second day in the covert reveals both new and familiar faces; hospitality and hostility.

Chapter 2 of the Shereshoy series | Masterlist | Ch. 1 | Ch. 3

Warnings: lots of Mando’a, mild language, soft Din, awkward Din, protective Din [he’s got a wide range, okay?], original Mandalorian characters… maybe a little bit of angst? It’s mostly worldbuilding, so I think that’s about it.

AN: A word from the author – "I'm in grad school, I take forever to write things." This is the second part of a sister fic for my fic Courting a friend of mine wrote based on this request, and I’m so happy she’s letting me share it with you guys! In this chapter, we get to see some new faces – or helmets, I should say – and I am here for what they have in store for us! Thanks for reading, we hope you enjoy 💛

This series is also on AO3, so you can read this chapter there too…

Translations:

Baar’ure: medics

Gotabor(e): (approx) mechanic(s)

(Lit.) engineer(s)

Aruetii(se): outsider(s)

Me’bana?: What happened?

Copikla bal mirdala: cute and clever

Copikla: meant to refer to babies and animals - never women unless you want your head ripped off

Could be considered a backhanded compliment or an insult

Ne shab'rud'kaysh, vod: (Approx) Don’t fuck with her, brother.

(Lit.) Don't mess with her, brother. (extremely strong warning, likely to be followed by violence)

N'eparavu takisit, vod: (Approx) Sorry, brother.

(Lit.) I eat my insult, brother

Me’dinui: share, give to one another

Aliit: family

Solus mhi oyacyi: (Approx) United, we remain

Buy’ce: helmet

Ik’aad: baby, child under 3

Jatne vod: “sir” or “ma’am”

Cabur(e): guard(s)

Kad: In reference to Kad Ha’rangir, destroyer god in the old Mandalorian pantheon

Utreekov: fool, idiot (lit: emptyhead)

Ni ceta: (Lit) I kneel, (approx.) I’m sorry

Ni ven’ceta par gar ratiin: I will always kneel for you

You feel the chill of the cave air settle around you as you rise from your slumber.

Opening your eyes, a soft glow leaks into your space from the room adjacent— signaling that Din is also awake. Not that he sleeps for very long anyway. Rather than immediately leaving the comfort of your sleeping mat to join him, you opt to spend a few extra minutes holding the little one close, hand on his back, as he continues to sleep soundly on your chest. Mornings like these are commonplace— cuddling with the Child until you feel ready enough to begin the day; making fresh caf for you and Din to share, feeding yourself and the little one, while enjoying the quiet company of one another in the cockpit. Perhaps our routine can stay somewhat the same, even here.

Mustering the strength to pull yourself from your warm cocoon of blankets, you slowly rise, trying to not disturb the Child. Two feet on the cold stone ground, and a blanket wrapped over your shoulders, you wander towards the common room.

In the corner sits a short-legged table, the perfect height to tuck ones’ legs beneath while enjoying a meal, or in this case, the morning caf. Din sits beside it, his shoulders and head leaning against the wall, his legs outstretched and crossed in front of him, and his hands interlaced across his abdomen. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say he was sleeping; but for the first time in a long time, Din is simply relaxing.

His head turns slightly to look at you as you approach, his arms slowly extending upward for the morning trade-off of the Child. Din guides him to lie against his shoulder while you ease yourself down to the floor, sitting across from him. Getting to watch Din with the Child like this was rare— it wasn’t often Din was able to decompress, allowing his body a break from the constant weight of armor. With bounty hunters and Imperials searching for the three of you, danger lurked around every corner. Din had to be prepared to fight at any moment. Seeing him unarmored and at ease— getting to enjoy the simple action of cuddling with his Foundling— makes you feel more calm, despite how unsettled you had been the day before.

“Did you sleep well?” Din asks— his voice soft, to not stir the Child.

“Yeah…” you nod, your fatigue causing you to trail off, leaving your thoughts incomplete. When Din shut out the lights before falling asleep, the pitch black of the cave was not unlike the darkness in the Crest every night. Despite the sleeping mat not quite matching the feel of your bed on the ship, the familiarity of the darkness had been a comfort, allowing sleep to come easily.

However, it wasn’t entirely refreshing— with the usual lag of being on a new planet, as well as the ever present nip of the air throughout the night. Feeling the chill of the bedrock beneath you, you pull your blanket tighter around yourself. “...but it’s colder here than I expected.”

He readjusts, shifting the child to his other shoulder before replying. “The temperature underground remains constant,” he tells you, not unkindly, “It’s best to dress warmly— prevents the stone from absorbing your body heat.” He taps his fingers on the ground to emphasize his point. You nod, and the three of you ease into a comfortable silence, Din continuing to lie against the wall as you pull the blanket tight around you once more, hunching forward to rest your arms on the table, and your head atop your arms. It’s almost too easy to doze off again, your grogginess coupled with Din’s calming presence.

Before you’re able to drift back into a light sleep, he gently places his free hand on your arm, giving a light squeeze. His gruff voice just barely above a whisper, “I know you’re tired— but we won’t be out long… You’ll meet the baar’ure and the gotabore, and we’ll come back here.”

Gotabore— that’s a new one. The mechs?

Your eyes meet his visor again, and with a small sigh, you nod at him. “Let me get dressed… then I’ll make the caf.” Giving him a weak grin, he gently removes his hand from your arm, allowing you to stand back up and return to your sleeping area once again. While changing into a set of durable work-clothes, the time alone offers you the chance to reflect on the current arrangement— reiterating once more where you’ve come to, and why.

Recalling back to the discussion with the Alor the day prior— inquiring about some of your aptitudes and skill sets, tasking you with specific labor, and instructing Din the same. Being a guest in their home; shielding you from any dangers, being given a bed to sleep in and meals to eat— requesting that you earn your keep seems reasonable. But why did she ask— tell— Din to bring you here? When you first met, she did not deem you as a member of his clan, despite your… relationship with Din and your role as the other caretaker of the Child. Currently— the populace of this pseudokarst-hidden covert regard you as nothing but an outsider. An invader. A danger. A threat to their safety. An aruetii.

And yet, no matter their levels of distrust, you are here, by the Alor’s request.

This is not the first time you have had to deal with unpleasant people— those that make the day seem unending or unyielding in its discomfort, or work with ones who question your intelligence or ability at every turn. The only surefire way to ease the inquietude of your cohorts is to employ the same tactics that you always have— by simply doing your best. With Din, this came naturally. As a pragmatic man, he values and trusts both competency and integrity. Showcasing both traits allowed him to ease his habitual suspicion of strangers and eventually, after enough time, foster a fond friendship between you. Perhaps utilizing the same tactic can render a twin outcome.

It can’t hurt to try, at least for Din’s sake.

You understand, at least to some degree, what the concept of clan and community mean to him. After the tragedy of Nevarro, you watched him silently mourn his many losses, not just of the individuals, but the purpose he held in providing for his people, his sense of worth intrinsically tied to the survival and prosperity of his tribe. Whilst those who are gone will never return, this new collective of Mando’ade could present Din with an opportunity to release his residual guilt and shame, resuming his role as a primary generator of income, sponsoring many Foundlings and adults alike for many years to come. In essence, Din could finally come home.

Your place, for now it seems, is to make this arrangement with him, and them, work. To not instigate or incite any conflict, to not act out of turn or be discourteous. The way to the heart of your companion was through patience and compassion; and thus cooperation and communication is the way to solidarity with his comrades. Presenting yourself as an equal, as someone who has earned the respect and trust of one of their own can give them the freedom to do the same, without fear. And perhaps, one day, to care for you and about you just the same as Din does every day.

—

The workshop is lively— abuzz and boisterous.

The cavernous walls echo and amplify the clangs and thumps of the tools, muddling together with the chatter of the Mando’ade working together. In the mess of noise, you can distinctly make out their laughter, of all things— and with it, their camaraderie. At this moment, you can’t seem to recall a time in which you were that happy to be working on anything— undoubtedly, you’ve enjoyed some jobs and some people, but you can practically hear the smile in their voices hidden beneath their buy’ce.

For a group of ‘fearsome, ruthless warriors’, this isn’t what I expected.

The workshop appears to double as a port for the strange variety of ships they have stored, ones they must have collected over time, perhaps as more Mando’ade arrived at this covert. Anything from speeders to small transports. Most of them don’t appear to be in the best condition— and by the looks of others, not entirely operational either. At the far end of the shop is the hangar door, which presumably leads to the outside, where two Mandos are working on a small ship— a CS fighter. A small single-manned starfighter designed for combat, so customizable and versatile they’ve withstood the tests of time— most models still in existence are decades old.

Another pre-Empire ship, I’m sensing a trend.

The two Mandos underneath the ship pay no mind to you and Din as you approach, instead focusing on trying to remove a part from the underbelly of the starfighter. Upon closer inspection, you take note of their appearances. One Mando adorned in armor painted a faded mauve— old paint, chipped on the thighs and chest piece; and the other a light blue, with gray accents detailing the armor throughout. The two of you watch them work for a minute before Din speaks, getting their attention.

“Perhaps my friend could be of some aid.”

Their heads snap to you in unison, staring at you both for a moment. Mauve tilts her head, “Nice to see you too, Djarin.”

You give a slight chuckle at her response. Din can be the worst at introductions sometimes. You look back over to him, waiting for his own retort. Rather than greeting her, he nods his head once, and gestures towards the starfighter, “Me’bana? What’s wrong with it?”

Mauve pulls herself out from underneath the ship, wiping the oil on her gloves on the unarmored sections of her pants, and leaning herself against the wing.“Engine keeps overheating— we don’t have enough parts to replace every cooling unit, and I haven’t figured out which ones are failing or why,” she says casually, crossing her arms. She nods at you, “What do you think?”

You match her stance, crossing your arms, leaning your weight to one side, giving the question a moment of thought. “A ship as old as this? Check the ground conductors. The one’s on the Crest fry pretty often, especially with how manically he flies it.” In your peripherals you see Din turn his head to look at you, as if your jab at his pilotage genuinely offended him, but hearing a snicker from Mauve, he looks away.

Listening to your suggestion, Blue works to take apart the cooling unit they had already removed, working his way down towards the center. In less than a minute, he’s able to remove one of the culprits responsible for the malfunction— a very fried ground conductor. With a little, prideful smirk, you turn your head slightly to look back at Din, your eyes meeting his visor. He gives you a short nod, a silent approval of your correct assessment, his own unique way of telling you, Good work.

Blue rises from his back to a seated position, setting down the tool he has in hand. He refuses to look at you, to address you— to even acknowledge you, instead staring at Din. “Copikla bal mirdala— I see why the Alor let you keep her.”

What the hell is that supposed to mean?

If you’re dastard enough to undermine me, have the gall to do it in Basic, asshole. You want to conjure some sort of response to him, but ignoring his attempt at a crude remark may be the best course of action— to retaliate with your own insult will do nothing but escalate this dispute. As you have come to learn, anger is prone to rashness. And anger, whether it’s yours or Din’s— or both, is what he wants. And you won’t give him the satisfaction of having it.

“Ne shab'rud'kaysh, vod.”

Din, however, gives in to the bait. His voice irate— a warning, a threat. For a brief moment, there’s a passing worry about the possibility of Din igniting the flames of his gauntlet, a favorite weapon of his when he’s provoked. If anything, a knife fight feels more likely. The silence between the four of you somehow drowns out every other noise in the shop. The two of them continue to glare, both waiting for the other to make the first move.

Your eyes watch back and forth between the two of them, waiting with baited breath. When Blue slowly raises both his hands in a mock surrender,“N'eparavu takisit, vod—“, and Din finally looks away from him, you know things have settled… for now.

An uncomfortable silence returns for a few moments, and Din is still not at ease. Mauve finally quips, “You saw it for yourself, go find another conductor.” She waves her hand, gesturing for Blue to leave. He rises, walking towards the other ships in the center of the shop— “You too, Djarin, find some.” She adds, casting Din away in the same manner she did with the other gotabor.

Din hesitates. He doesn’t want to leave your side— and looks to you, with a silent question. You nod at him, an unspoken It’s okay— with a sigh, he complies with her command. “Fine,” he swiftly turns around, leaving the two of you alone.

You watch them descend further into the shop, until they disappear from your sight. You’re left with the sounds of the distant chatter of the other Mando’ade, continuing to echo as it did when you first arrived.

Well, that could have gone worse.

Of the six Mando’ade you’ve met, three of them have not been hostile. It’s a start.

Continuing to stare off, Mauve speaks once more to get your attention. “Come help me check the rest of them.”

Her request brings you back to the present moment, turning around to see her lying underneath the ship again, hands deep in its underbelly, loosening some things and pulling others. You kneel down, until you’re able to lower yourself to the ground completely, lying next to her. She hands you the cooling units as she pulls them out, and the two of you work to take them apart, sitting beside one another.

“Jado doesn’t like you. But pay him no mind.” She states, matter-of-factly.

Yeah, he looks like a ‘Jado.’

This revelation of Jado’s discontempt is unsurprising— and not unexpected. “He doesn’t know me,” you say. Asking a question of why would be inane, you already know the answer.

“Well… none of us do. You’re an aruetii.” That moniker makes your stomach churn, but her lack of malice allows you to diminish the feeling of dejection quickly. “But that’s not inherently a bad thing. We’ll all get to know you soon enough.”

…What?

She continues, nonchalantly, “Djarin and the Alor trust you; so that’s all that matters. Aruetii or not.”

You continue to work, letting a short-lived silence settle between you, before she speaks again. “I’m Odona. Clan Drii. Unfortunately, Jado’s a part of it too. My little vod.”

You listen as her spiel drags on, leaning in to signal she has your attention, “We both usually work on the ships here, but he’s still pretty new at it— and I haven’t worked with many Pre-Imperial ships. When I heard that you were coming, after being on Djarin’s ancient me’sen?” She raises both her hands dramatically, “Briikase tuur. Happy day.”

Listening to this Mandalorian monologue feels like an oxymoron— given the usual disposition of your companion, and the general taciturn reputation that all Mandalorians seem to hold amongst the outsiders. Regardless, her comment and theatrical gestures make you grin.

“Don’t tell me you’re another ‘strong and silent’ type… Djarin’s sulking is enough for me.” That makes you laugh.

He does sulk a little, doesn’t he?

Smiling, you finally respond, “No. I think I’ve just grown accustomed to the sulking.”

Odona snorts. “Sorry to disappoint you, but you’ll get none of that from me. You’ll replace Jado for now, we’ll likely get more accomplished that way.” You’re not disappointed, the change of pace will be interesting— a new opportunity to learn a lot from. You feel a little prideful, knowing that she’s pleased with your knowledge and ability.

Before Odona can begin another monologue— and perhaps to disprove her claim of yours and Din’s shared hobby of sulking— you seize the chance to ask a question of your own. “I’m surprised by how many ships are here— but why are so many of them stripped out?”

Her hands stop, a pause in her tinkering as she ponders your enquiry. With a tilt of her head, she finally answers. “Whenever we get a new ship, it gets…” she hesitates for a moment, attempting to better articulate herself, searching for the precise word; “...triaged.”

Interesting connotation.

You suggest, “...As in, you decide whether to fix it, or scrap it for parts.”

“Exactly. We don’t have the resources to fix everything. It’s best to spend our time efficiently— focusing on the ones that will yield the greatest benefit in the long run.” The explanation is sound, yet Odona sees your underlying confusion still present. She asks you, “Why?”

Din would blow a fuse if someone tried to strip the Crest… again… Damn Jawas.

You point in the direction Din and Jado wandered towards, “I can see why he landed the Crest over a mile away from here.” Odona chuckles at the light joke, and you continue, “But— people are… okay with their ship getting scrapped?” On the surface, the concept almost sounds absurd. For Din, the Crest is another home. Everything meticulously ordered, from his weapons to his food stocks. Despite the frequent abuse his ship endures, he works to ensure its continued functionality, it’s almost a second layer of armor, one he cares about greatly.

“Well, no one has a personal ship— whenever any newcomers settle into the covert, any ships they once owned join the tribe’s fleet,” Odona explains.

Your brows furrow. They just give away their ship to the covert?

She elaborates more. “I guess it could be difficult for someone outside of…” she gestures to your surroundings, “...this… to understand. We share things— me’dinui— do what we can to contribute to each other, to our community.” She shrugs, watching you, gauging your reaction. “A ship doesn’t mean anything… But supporting your aliit? Your family?” She pauses again, her voice passionate, “...It’s everything. All we truly have is each other.”

In a galaxy so wrought with selfishness, greed, and ‘survival of the fittest’— the thought of anyone doing anything for a collective good is almost inconceivable. And yet, hearing the emotion of her voice, listening to her speak of the tenets you see Din adhere to so unfailingly, the concept of unity seems more tangible, more apodictic.

Setting down the tools you have in hand, you softly lament, “Sadly, I think I’ve become a little jaded to that idea...” you look at her, hoping to meet her eyes behind her visor, “...but I’m open to having my mind changed.”

You nod at her, and she does the same. In a familiar tone, Odona enounces, “Solus mhi oyacyi— this is the Way.”

—

Upon Din’s and Jado’s return with the necessary parts, Din extends a hand to you to help you rise from the ground.

As you stand, Odona quips “Making me do all the work with these?”

And with Din’s reply— “We have other matters to attend to;” you make your way towards the exit, giving Odona a wave, and she returns with a nod.

As you both close the heavy metal doors of the shop behind you, the hush of the cavern is jarring— the noise of the chaotic banter suddenly silenced. You’re only left with the sound of your blood whooshing in your head, and again, the persistent gelidity of the cave air forcing a chill up your spine. You exhale, removing your hands from the door, and slowly turn around to face Din. You stare at one another for a moment, before taking another breath.

“Odona said you sulk too much,” you say, your voice light and soft, to break the quiet tension without dissettling the quiescent chamber.

He huffs at your teasing remark and tilts his head, “...It seemed like the two of you were getting along?” He matches your volume, inquiring gingerly.

There’s worry in his voice, you recognize. Lingering feelings of contrition for the unnecessary antagonism Jado had given you. It must be strange for him, you contemplate, this role reversal of sorts. Outside these walls, he’s a living embodiment of minatory. In his day-to-day, he has to make an effort to appear benign to sociable strangers— whilst you, on the other hand, are as regular as any other citizen in the galaxy— posing passivity is the goal, a fine balance between being amicable but guarded. But now, in his enclave, you have to think and behave as he does when he interacts with everyone else in the galaxy— an intriguing juxtaposition.

You smile, “Yes, she’s interesting...she reminds me of Peli.” That’s not all he wants to know. It’s another tacit question, a chance to tell him how you feel without him having to ask. You take a step closer, letting your eyes meet his visor, “She also assured me that continuing to ignore her brother’s jibes is the best course of action.”

He sighs, and his shoulders drop. “I told him not to do it again.”

Din isn’t good with words. He’s curt, sometimes to the point of being tactless. On Sorgan, when faced with the obligation of informing the villagers of their predicament— Bad news, you can’t live here anymore— his delivery, at best, was uncouth. Nice bedside manner— Cara had told him, which earned a chuckle from you. He usually thrives more in one-on-one interactions; he can be amenable— kind, even. He ensures to give people thanks when necessary, listens to others without interruption; and attempts to be a calm presence, especially in times of turmoil.

Where he excels, however, are in his actions. Whether it’s the softer things— letting the Child grip his finger for comfort, a gentle hand to help you; or the more intense things— fighting his way through an army of Imperials to ensure the safety of his aliit, Din shows his care through his actions. He didn’t protect you from the enmity of his cohort because he thought you were incapable of vying against another Mando’ade. He wasn’t attempting to patronize you— but rather displaying his respect, to not stand idly by when someone is attempting to ostracize you.

His care is a reverent kind, one he conveys with both his body and his mind, a message given with nary a word spoken.

You stare into him once more, hoping to meet his eyes. You grin, and give a soft “Thank you.”

He doesn’t respond, he simply nods.

You gaze at one another for a few moments, before you nod your head to the side, gesturing to him to start walking; just as he did to you the day prior. Together, you walk beside each other through the various halls and passageways— working to build a mental map of the cave system— until you reach the medbay.

It’s a small room, one equipt to host only a few residents. Along the chamber walls are privacy shields— drawn to create different spaces for individual patients. Towards the back are tall shelves of med supplies— anything from syringes and needles, blood tubes, to disinfectants, gauze, and kits for intravenous fluids— supplies that would allow for basic blood tests, and treating minor to moderate wounds. Near the entrance sits another Mando, the baar’ur— their armor a deep green with teal sigils along the side of their buy’ce; holo pad in hand, seemingly deep in focus.

The sounds of your footsteps pull her attention. “Ah, su cuy'gar, Djarin, it’s been a while. How’s your ik’aad?”

He extends a hand for her to grasp, pulling her from the ground. “Fine. He’s with the other ade.”

She looks at you, “Jatne vod, I’ve been waiting for you to arrive.”

“I hope I can assist.” You give her your name, she replies with her own; Mavis.

She sighs, exasperated. She points to the first room, “One of the idiot cabure just showed up for the third time in two weeks, and…” She stops, and takes a deep breath, trying to ease her agitation, “... and I don’t want to deal with him again.” She holds the holopad out for you to take, “Can you handle this for me?”

Reading through her notes, you skim over some of the details.

G: He is in no apparent distress. He is alert and oriented

S: No open fracture or bony abnormality

E: Laceration to left shoulder, 15cm x 1 cm, simple, shallow

A simple laceration… “No sutures or staples?” You ask.

“No. Just use a tissue adhesive— I would have just made him do it himself; but he can’t reach it.” Her annoyance seeps through her voice again, “So, don’t waste any bacta on that,” she replies, pointedly. She mumbles under her breath, shaking her head, “Kad knows that utreekov will be back here next week.” She looks at Din, who gives her a sympathetic shrug.

She must be the only medic here.

You nod in understanding, “...I’ll take care of him, Mavis.” You turn around to walk towards the room, reading through the rest of her notes. Din and the baar’ur carry on in conversation as you approach the line of privacy shades.

Standing before the first room, you use the corner of the holo pad to tap upon the pole holding the curtain— a sound to alert the patient of your arrival, “Can I come in?” you ask.

A moment of silence greets you, before a deep voice answers “...Sure.”

Slowly drawing back the curtain just wide enough to allow you entry, you step in.

A familiar Mando sits before you. The idiot cabur.

The same idiot cabur you met yesterday— the very one that glowered into your karking soul like he craved nothing more than to break you in half. The sight of him makes your stomach sink— dread coursing through your bones, your nerves firing to prepare for his inevitable attack— skin electric, heart racing, blood cold.

You’re not safe.

You breathe, trying to will your voice to return once more. Taking a moment, your eyes scan up and down his form— assessing his position. He’s slouched, sitting atop the bed, one leg tucked underneath the other, a hand pressed against the injured shoulder. His pauldrons and chest piece sit beside him, his shirt half pulled over his form, revealing the nasty gash across his shoulder blade. Your eyes finally meet his visor— almost hoping to find his own beneath it, only to greet the same abyss that bore into you upon your first meeting.

Breathe. You nod at him, feigning nonchalance, “What happened?”

He observes you in return, tilting his head.

His gaze, though not predatory, reveals his intrigue. You’re enigmatic, oracular— he’s studying you, fixated on your features; searching for the apologues and adages that have sculpted your spirit— the flame of your psyche he yearns to succumb to. For a moment, he too is breathless, lost in the sea of your presence, desperate for a mast to secure himself to. He yields, finally looking away from you, to bring his attention to his injured shoulder.

He considers his response, and answers your question; almost timid, but with an obvious lightness to his voice. “I— uh… bravely protected the covert from an invader.”

You blink, and furrow your brows in confusion. You slowly shake your head at him. “No.” You reply, unconvinced. “Try again.”

He straightens his posture, looking at you once more. After another pause, he argues his second retelling of events. “Okay… again, I bravely rescued a Foundling lost in one of the Back Caves,” his voice less shy, but still chary.

His witticism begins to thaw the icy tension between you, reforming to liquescent diffidence— your pulse easing back to its restful tempo, the slight tremor of your hands gradually ceasing. You stride towards him, equanimous and assured, until you’re close enough to inspect his injury. A nasty gash, skin frayed along the edges, with smaller abrasions surrounding it— the beginnings of a bruise coloring the area. Dust and tiny shards of lava rock are settled on the skin throughout, peppering the wound. It looks painful.

Your eyes meet his hidden ones, desperate to conceal your amused grin he’s given you, “No,” you challenge, an insincere jest, “...last chance.”

He chortles, looking away again, almost bashful. “I fell,” he responds, resolute. “In the Back Caves… Lost my footing on an unsteady rock, and landed on a sharper one.” His coyish inflection shifting to one aflutter— in a moment of confidence, he returns his gaze to you, illuminated by your amused expression, having caught on to his jocular antics.

You nod, and try to hide your simper, “That sounds right.” You gesture to his shoulder, “May I?”

“Please.” He moves slowly, turning slightly, allowing you easier access to his shoulder.

With the wound in full view, you work to treat him.

It only takes but a few minutes to clean the area, the two of you spend that time in silence. He fidgets, not in a way that indicates he’s in pain— but rather that he’s unnerved, nervous, even mousy. This massive Mando’ad sits beside you with such tension in his form, as though he’s bracing for an impact; on the precipice of the inchoate attack— waiting for the aruetii to spit their vitriol, to exploit his vulnerable position and leave him more scathed than when he arrived.

With your hands gently pressing over his shoulder blade, sealing the adhesive in place; he releases a long held breath, the anticipated aggression absent. The tautness of his muscles gives way, highlighting their definition across his back as he decompresses. Stop looking. His heat radiating into your palms, a warmth you’ve been starved of since entering this frore catacomb, you’re reluctant to pull away— longing to linger in the intimacy of this untrodden amity that has just scarcely begun.

Slowly, you will yourself to retreat, discarding the soiled gauze and removing your disposable gloves. “Does the brave cabur have any other battle wounds?” You tease, disrupting the prolonged silence.

“No, ma’am,” his tone reveleaving the alacarious smirk hidden behind his buy’ce. As you turn away, he maneuvers his arm back into his shirt. He continues, “...thank you. Vor entye.”

You look back to him and nod, “Of course.”

Just as the silence settles again, and you attempt to leave, he recommences. “Before you go…” He waits for you to stop, “I was hoping to speak with you?” His inflection returns to one of timidness again; but he sits straighter, his legs wide and relaxed, his hands resting over his thighs. Even without his armor, his broad form fills the space around him. Don’t ogle. “We didn’t get to talk much yesterday.”

Difficult to chat when you think you’re about to die. “No, we didn’t.”

His voice turns gentle, almost placating, as if he heard your thought. “I’m Ikarus, a guardsman for the covert. The other cabur was Sabe.” He breathes, tilts his head, fidgets like he’s considering every word before he says it. “It’s our duty… to ensure the safety of everyone here. Including you.”

You’re frozen in place, refusing to cross the threshold to him again, despite his words wanting you to ease yourself closer.

“I—” the words are trapped in his throat, “I failed that duty yesterday. I failed you.”

He pauses, looking down to the floor, gathering his thoughts once more. “I’ve been here a long time. We’re very careful who we allow in here. Having a new Foundling and an outsider come in like this is unusual, to say the least.”

He looks to your face, meeting your eyes, “But this… inordinate circumstance… doesn’t give me the right to scare you. Being leered at by a giant, armed, faceless stranger should not have been your first impression of us… of me.”

His guilt bleeds into his speech, a sadness overcoming him. “I’m sorry.” For a moment, Ikarus envisions you, the terror in your eyes upon your first meeting, your protectiveness of the Child, of Djarin shielding you from his ravening presence, keeping you away from him. “Ni ceta, I’m sorry.”

You stare at him, speechless, in awe of his confession.

Ni ceta. I kneel.

A rare, groveling apology you had only heard once before— in an unfortunate situation with Din that left you both upset— he found the Basic phrase I’m sorry could not express his attrition wholly. He had explained the Mando’a words to you; their connotation, their significance. Kneeling, you learned, was one of the highest forms of respect to another Mando’ade— not only a display of humility, but reverence, obedience; and at certain times, even submission. Whilst his genuflect never came, his declaration was enough for you both to reconcile.

But the person before you is not Din Djarin.

Having a man like him brought to his knees would be a sight to behold.

In a moment of boldness, you slowly step towards him— soft on your feet— until you stand a mere meter apart, never looking away from where you presume his eyes to be. In a quiet, demulcent tone— barely above a whisper; before you can even think to reconsider your words, you ask him, “Are you going to kneel, Ikarus?”

Thence, he is in free fall. Your emollient voice and temerarious inquiry luring him into the vast unknown of you— succumbing to the pull of your orbit, the fire of your spirit. In an instant, his body relaxes— his eyes bore into yours, as he slowly rises from the medical bed to his full height, before bending the knee to kneel below you. After a moment, he extends his hand for you to grasp. Whence his hand grips yours, he answers your question in kind; “Ni ven’ceta par gar ratiin.”

Thanks for reading!! If you’d like to be notified when I post a new fic, be sure to follow @writerlyhabits-library + turn on post notifications! 💛

To show this author your direct support, go ahead and check this story out on A03 + leave some kudos and a nice comment 💜

#din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin fluff #the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #mando'a #original mandalorian characters #they're my favorites #i love them #shereshoy series #shereshoy sister fic #not my writing #i have permission to post this

249 notes · View notes

theresattrpgforthat · 11 months

Note

Any good stuff for psychic vigilantes fighting from the shadows? Apologies if this is too vague or if I’m asking wrong.

THEME: Psychic Vigilantes.

Oh boy oh boy I am excited about this ask!! Buckle up, this week's gonna be a good one!! I got some pulp action goodness, some horror, and some cyberpunk for you.

Psych-0 Team!, by John Pineapple.

A one-page TTRPG about psychic agents saving the world! Heavily inspired by the TTRPG "Lasers and Feelings”.

This is a game about being psychic secret agents, so it’s a very different feeling from being on the run from the law. However, I think it might be a good introduction to something a bit grittier, and could possibly be re-tooled to make you part of a secret vigilante organization as well! The game system is very lightweight, using only d6’s, and implements a staggered level of success, so not every win will look or feel the same. Definitely worth checking out!

Psi*Run, by Meguey & Vincent Baker.

Whoever’s after you, you know one thing: they will stop at nothing to capture you and you’ll stop at nothing to stay free. The holes in your memory vie for attention with your startling abilities - stay one step ahead of the Chasers long enough to answer your questions, and hope your psychic powers don’t go wild.

I don’t know much about this game specifically, but Meguey & Vincent Baker of Lumpley Games have made their stamp on the ttrpg scene with games like Apocalypse World, Under Hollow Hills, and Mobile Zero: Firebrands. Their approach to game design births games with mechanics that replicate emotions and genre mainstays very well. I expect this game to do the same for a game about being insanely powerful and yet always on the run.

Bellbottoms and Brainwaves, by Mekkekat.

The United States military has been conducting secret experiments on “willing” subjects in a program called PSY-CLOPS (Psychic Covert Learning Operatives). The program has successfully created a 6th sense in a REDACTED number of subjects. This 6th sense can manifest within a subject in several ways, but all of these abilities are simply referred to as ‘powers’. The project has been funded for the past REDACTED years, but in last month, there was a problem. The Pentagon wants answers. REDACTED subjects have managed to escape.

This is a brutally short game that places you right into a cinematic 1960’s, with each character given a different suite of powers - and a different list of consequences that can get pretty brutal pretty quickly, so make sure you go over the possibilities with your group and apply safety tools in this kind of game. This game starts you out as on the run from a government agency, but go on the run long enough and you’re a vigilante by default, aren’t you?

The game itself is free, and if you want an online character keeper, I’ve made one here!

Syndrome, by Ill Advised Gaming.

Syndrome is a cyberpunk setting with strong elements of body horror in the vein of Scanners or Akira. High tech, low lifes dealing with illness in a society that fears them. Powerful and vulnerable in equal measure with only their fellow Nockers for support.

Built off of Caltrop Core and borrowing elements of systems like Apocalypse World and Unified Cutlery Theory, Syndrome frames psychic abilities as a metaphor for disability; in a world where data chips and facial recognition software are par for the course, psychics are off the map. Invisible. Marginalized. Perfect for both poverty and vigilantism. Syndrome is a pretty horror-heavy game, so I wouldn’t advise trying to run a power-fantasy in this game, but if you’re looking for a way to talk about living on the margins with some unique tools to strike back, it might be worth checking out!

Psychopunk, by Gormengeist. (@gormengeist)

PSYCHOPUNK is a TTRPG about being poor, being psychic, and murdering law enforcement. In order to play, you need a deck of cards, a d12, paper and pencils, and a can-do attitude. It's best with one game master [A.K.A the Scripter], and 2 to 5 players.

The year is 2022. Being poor is punishable by death- or perhaps worse- Time Prison. You are poor. But you’re also psychic, which very few lowly peasants such as yourself are. This means that where most people in your situation are rat meat, you are (probably) alive. For now.

If you want to keep it that way, you’ll need to evade the law, keep up on your Double Dollars ($$), and scuz some fucking corpos before they scuz you.

Another cyberpunk game about psychic powers, I love the pitch for this game. It’s mean to kick you down and force you to get back up scratching and bleeding and screaming. It comes with 12 life paths, 12 psychic abilities, 8 different signature enemies and everything you need to run deadly quick combat. Also it’s published by Gormengeist, who really knows how to find a theme and sell you on it. Check it out!

#tabletop games #indie ttrpgs #dnd #game recommendations #asks #psychics

63 notes · View notes

androxys · 6 months

Text

Task Force What? An Incomplete (Yet Still Very Long) Guide to Some of the DCU’s Government Groups [Part 2]

Welcome back to my writeup on 13 of the DCU's government organizations. Recognizing that everything in Part 1 was a ton of information to parse through, here’s a rough timeline of some of the groups’ movements and reorganizations. This time, I’ve put important people’s names in bold so you can track them. Again, much thanks to my editors and beta readers.

Part 1: Organization Descriptions and Histories

Part 2: Timeline

Part 3: Reading Suggestions

1940s-1980s

During WWII, Squadron S earns the nickname “The Suicide Squad” due to its high morality rate. Rick Flag Sr. is brought in to turn the squadron around, eventually making it a highly decorated and effective unit.

Senator McCarthy tries to force the Justice Society of America to unmask. They refuse, instead choosing to go into hiding.

Without the Justice Society to protect the U.S. from “extraordinary” threats, the President authorizes the creation of Task Force X. This group consisted of two wings: Argent and The Suicide Squad.

Rick Flag Sr. is killed in action during a Suicide Squad mission. This version of the Squad is disbanded.

Control, the leader of Argent, kills someone involved in JFK’s assassination. He subsequently directs Argent to go underground.

A new version of the Suicide Squad is formed, led by Rick Flag Jr. This version disbands after a mission in Cambodia. Flag’s supervisor reveals that the Squad was ultimately doomed anyway due to budget cuts.

At some point during the Cold War, Spyral is formed by the U.N., led by Otto Netz.

Project Cadmus is founded.

Sarge Steel becomes a leader in, if not the director of, the Central Bureau of Intelligence.

Katherine Webb Kane becomes Batwoman to try to uncover Batman’s identity for Spyral.

The Agency is founded by Valentina Vostok. The Agency’s work includes Project: Peacemaker.

Roy Harper joins the Central Bureau of Investigation. He meets Jade Nguyen through his work with the CBI.

Katherine Webb Kane is apparently killed by Ben Turner, the Bronze Tiger, while he is under the control of the League of Assassins.

Otto Netz is revealed to be a double agent and is imprisoned.

Mr. Bones is a quasi-member of Infinity Inc., legacy heroes springing from the Justice Society.

1980s-2000s

Amanda Waller presents her plan to reactivate Task Force X. This new Suicide Squad will use supervillains for high risk, covert missions. The Agency will be brought into Task Force X and subsequently reorganized as Checkmate, though Project: Peacemaker remains independent.

Rick Flag Jr. is made field leader of the Suicide Squad. Ben Turner, seeking atonement, becomes his second in command.

Sarge Steel is officially the Director of the Central Bureau of Investigation.

Harry Stein is made King of Checkmate.

Amanda Waller and her Suicide Squad discover the remenants of Argent. With the majority of its members gone, Argent is officially declared to be disbanded.

The Janus Directive occurs. Massive reorganizations happen.

Task Force X is dissolved as an umbrella organization.

Amanda Waller is left in charge of the Suicide Squad.

Harry Stein remains as King of Checkmate, but they are forced to relocate. Project Peacemaker is incorporated into Checkmate.

Sarge Steel is made the Director of Metahuman Affairs, and is the direct supervisor for all other metahuman related agencies. He continues to oversee the Central Bureau of Investigation.

Amanda Waller disbands her Suicide Squad.

After the death of Superman, Project Cadmus tries to clone him. This results in the creation of Superboy.

Project Cadmus fires “mad scientist” Dabney Donovan.

A “clone plague” begins to affect Project Cadmus creations. This is revealed to be the creation of Dabney Donovan, who kills Paul Westfield.

Mickey Cannon becomes the new head of Project Cadmus. He keeps Dabney Donovan as an imprisoned scientific advisor and brings in geneticist Serling Roquette.

Harry Stein resigns as King of Checkmate. Phil Kramer and Kalia Cambell are made King and Queen, respectively.

Roy Harper leaves the CBI.

Mr. Bones is made the Director of the Department of Extranormal Operations.

Cameron Chase joins the Department of Extranormal Operations.

The Department of Extranormal Operations subcontracts A.P.E.S members Donald Fite and Ishido Maad for a recovery mission.

Lex Luthor becomes president.

Amanda Waller replaces Sarge Steel as Secretary of Metahuman Affairs in the Luthor Administration.

Knightwatch, a more militaristic branch of the Department of Extranormal Operations, protects the U.S. President from metahuman threats.

Director Bones manipulates the Justice Society into going against Kobra on the DEO’s behalf. This is not well received by the JSA.

Lex Luthor starts the Human Defense Corps to try to build a non-metahuman response team to extraordinary threats.

The Central Bureau of Investigation is absorbed into the Department of Extranormal Operations.

Sarge Steel becomes the head of the Department of Metahuman Affairs, a subdivision of the DEO.

Sasha Bordeaux is recruited into Checkmate by Jessica Midnight.

David Said is promoted to King

Helena Bertinelli is blackmailed by David Said into accepting a position as a Queen in Checkmate.

Lex Luthor leaves the White House. Amanda Waller subsequently leaves her position as Secretary for Metahuman Affairs.

Director Bones and Cameron Chase recruit Kate Spencer, the Manhunter, to work for the Department of Extranormal Operations.

Maxwell Lord becomes Black King of Checkmate.

Infinite Crisis happens.

Maxwell Lord kills Ted Kord once Kord uncovers Lord’s plot to use Checkmate against metahumans.

Sasha Bordeaux sends Batman evidence of Kord’s death, leading Lord to activate the OMACs to try to exterminate all Checkmate agents and metahumans on Earth.

Maxwell Lord is killed by Wonder Woman.

One Year Later

After Checkmate is rechartered as a U.N. organization, Amanda Waller is made White Queen. Due to her involvement in the Luthor White House, the U.N. only agrees to let Waller into Checkmate if she does not run operations. This means she cannot run any operations. The other initial leaders of this new Checkmate are Sasha Bordeaux, Alan Scott, and Taleb Beni Khalid.

Wonder Woman joins the Department of Metahuman Affairs in her new identity as Diana Prince.

Alan Scott resigns from Checkmate, tapping his Bishop–Michael Holt–to be the new White King.

Despite being prohibited from running operations, Amanda Waller reactivates a Suicide Squad and begins Operation: Salvation Run.

Once other Checkmate officials find out what Amanda Waller is up to, she is forced to resign from Checkmate. However, by that point, most supervillains had been deported via Operation: Salvation Run.

Squad K is developed out of the Human Defense Corps to specifically deal with Kryptonian threats.

After the events of Brightest Day, Maxwell Lord returns to life. He erases most of the world’s memory of him and begins a discrediting campaign against Checkmate in an attempt to regain power.

Talia al Ghul creates the Leviathan Organization. She frees Otto Netz from his imprisonment so that he can assist Leviathan.

Batman Incorporated begins to move against Leviathan, clearing the organization out of St. Hadrian’s Finishing School for Girls.

Damian Wayne kills Otto Netz to save Batman from a trap.

The New 52 Happens

Spyral takes control of St. Hadrian’s

Katherine Webb Kane reveals that she faked her death to lead Spyral in secret.

A.R.G.U.S. is founded to support metahumans at the federal level.

Dick Grayson is unmasked as Nightwing, and is recruited by Helena Bertinelli to be an agent of Spyral.

Bertinelli and Grayson leave Spyral. Tiger becomes the new Patron of Spyral.

#dc comics #amanda waller #sasha bordeaux #suicide squad #checkmate #meta #my writing #chit chat

25 notes · View notes

contemplatingoutlander · 1 year

Text

Contemplations on Martin Luther King Jr. Day, January 16, 2023

The coming Republican nightmare | Cartoon by Ann Telnaes

Martin Luther King Jr. had a dream.

Sadly, what is currently happening the in U.S. isn't it.

Given the anti-CRT movement in red states, the rampant banning of books by Black and Brown authors across the U.S., the vitriol on the right regarding the BLM movement, the unrestrained right-wing zeal of the conservative justices on the Supreme Court who have been slowly dismantling the Voting Rights Act and who are now poised to ban affirmative action programs at universities, and the acceptance of blatant racist remarks by many of today's GOP politicians (most notably their leader Trump), Martin Luther King would probably think that what is currently happening in the U.S. is indeed a nightmare.

Finally, MLK would be livid if he knew that the GQP anti-CRT, covert white nationalist movement has been repeatedly misusing his "dream" quote:

“I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin, but by the content of their character.” --Martin Luther King Jr.

According to Melinda Guerra this quote has been:

Used: to defend the incredibly patronizing and trivializing thought that claiming to be colorblind is something laudable, rather than a way of discounting the fact that people of color have the privilege of being because we have to deal with the fact that our non-whiteness dictates parts of our experiences in ways those who talk about being will never understand. Also used to defend the idea of America being post-race, which would be laughable if its very falseness lead to so many awful things. Also used to suggest King would be against affirmative action, as if he hadn't been part of a group of leaders proposing an affirmative-action-like employment program (See #5 below).

Guerra goes on to suggest that we

Remind people: 1. This speech actually consists of more than the 2-3 sentences that get quoted. (Seriously, remind them of that. I'm almost convinced people don't know that.) 2. It is foolish and trivializing to claim you don't see color or suggest America is post-race, and flat-out wrong to suggest King wouldn't support affirmative action programs. 3. The march at which he delivered this speech was the March on Washington for Jobs and Freedom. As a result of that march, meetings with administration, and a ton of work done by other leaders in the Civil Rights Movement of the 60s, the Civil Rights Act of 1964 and Voting Rights act of 1965 were passed, with provisions reflecting the demands of that march. But, contrary to popular opinion, that didn't lead King to suggest we’d “arrived” and the civil rights movement should pack up and go home [...] 4. King’s speaking and activism stretched from before this speech to after it. This speech–and even the passage of important (but baby step) laws like the aforementioned Civil Rights Act and Voting Act–was not some final “end” to all he’d said. It was but one speech (and the lines people love to claim were but a few lines) in a long legacy of things he said, and his lifetime should not be reduced to a few nonthreatening lines white people like to remember. 5. King and others actually proposed something that sounds an awful lot like the affirmative action programs people use this quote to suggest he was opposed to. He supported a “massive program of economic aid, financed by the Federal Government, to improve the lot of the nation’s 20,000,000 Negroes.” Answering an interviewer’s question about whether it was fair to request a “multibillion-dollar program of preferential treatment for the Negro, or for any other minority group,” King responded as follows:

“I do indeed. Can any fair-minded citizen deny that the Negro has been deprived? Few people reflect that for two centuries the Negro was enslaved, and robbed of any wages—potential accrued wealth which would have been the legacy of his descendants. All of America’s wealth today could not adequately compensate its Negroes for his centuries of exploitation and humiliation. It is an economic fact that a program such as I propose would certainly cost far less than any computation of two centuries of unpaid wages plus accumulated interest. In any case, I do not intend that this program of economic aid should apply only to the Negro; it should benefit the disadvantaged of all races.”*

I’m sure you’ll see plenty of your own memes misquoting King this year. If you have the emotional energy (and I do understand if you don’t), consider using some of the above responses (or researching your own) and responding, instead of just scrolling past them.

Happy Martin Luther King Jr. Day!

_____________ * http://playboysfw.kinja.com/martin-luther-king-jr-part-2-of-a-candid-conversation-1502358645

#martin luther king jr day #mlk day #dream or nightmare #us racism #us politics #anti-crt movement #gop #republican house #melinda guerra #ann telnaes #the washington post #fourth & sycamore

124 notes · View notes

darlin-djarin · 1 year

Note

Its during season 2 when Din and Boba ask for Bo Katans help to rescue Grogu. She spends most of the scene being quite racist towards Boba Fett specifically targeting him because he is a clone.

Saying he's a disgrace to his armour, that he shouldnt be considered a Mandalorian, and calls his father "his donor" and says shes heard his voice thousands of times and thats why shes being hateful about his existence.

Its very uncomfortable to watch because shes white, being racist to a character played by a Maori man. But his helmet is on during he scene to make it look less racist.

Maybe its because im indigenous too, but the racism in that scene stood out a lot and it upsets me the show refuses to acknowledge it. (Id recommend a scene rewatch its really jarring to see compared to how they portray her this season)

oh oh my god

thank you for telling me, that scene went right past me. bo-katan’s racism is so… yikes. i know there’s general racism towards clones by a lot of people but the fact that bo-katan outwardly expressed it right to BOBA FETT’S FACE.

honestly tcw bo-katan seemed much more likeable just because her hatred and rage made her an interesting character. no hate to katee but live action bo-katan is so dulled down and her getting a THIRD CHANCE at the darksaber is getting so fucking boring like. just bc she’s a woman doesn’t erase her blatant racism and terrorism. ik it’s fun to joke about “god forbid women do anything” but like real talk here, bo-katan (in the live action at least) is getting more and more unlikeable. i don’t want to see any more of her. i’ve seen a lot of people saying that they hope she dies and frankly it’d do her better if she did. make her go out doing something honorable in parallel to her horrible past.

handing the show to bo-katan is such an awful take. i try to avoid controversy in the fandom but giving the “princess” role to a white woman who’s very much racist and has also expressed her hatred towards followers of the creed (calling din’s covert a cult when miss maam was literally part of the death watch) is so UGHH. like i love women but get this clown out of here. i tried liking her, i did. i actually really liked her in the clone wars and her characterization there was so interesting but putting her into the live action and doing her dirty just feels so wrong.

i’m sorry that scene was so jarring for you. i’m indigenous as well so i understand how you must feel about it. i’ll probably rewatch it soon just to remember what happened.

taking away the spotlight from a man of color just to give it to a racist white woman who’s lost the ONE thing giving her importance twice and then giving it back to her for a third time is just. like respectfully, i don’t think ANYONE wanted to see that. and people who are like “it’s good that din gets to be a side character! bo-katan deserves to be the princess she is!” are literally lying to themselves. favroni is systematically giving us bad content so our standards are lowered and we celebrate the smallest things even if they’re terrible. bo-katan being a princess is a boring idea and taking away din’s development into WHY he doesn’t want the saber is just bad storytelling.

i have so much more to talk about but i just KNOW people are gonna get mad 💀 sorry to hate on your fav but she is a racist white woman who plays no importance unless she has an object that she’s lost 2 times before.

#star wars #the mandalorian #bo katan kryze #the clone wars #boba fett #din djarin #oil.

71 notes · View notes

mylifeisactuallyamess · 2 days

Text

Sanctuary part 2

Chapter 9: Paths Unknown

A/N: This chapter follows the episode very closely, I wanted to add it in because all I could think about was how much Tech would have loved it 🥹

Warnings: 18+, that icky plant thing, canon action, some feelings, mentions of experiments.

Word Count: 6.4k+

Chapter 8 - Chapter 9 - Chapter 10

Masterlist

5 months after Stitch was taken.

Tech glanced at his brothers, passing a look through their helmets at the scream that sounded from the chamber behind the closed door.

“That did not go as he expected,” Tech quipped but Hunter scowled. It had been months without Omega, even longer without you. The toll taken was obvious on all of them; from the scuffed and unkempt armour to the worry lines that marked all their faces. Hunter had been relentless, using every contact and ounce of knowledge they had between them to find some solid intel.

He should be happy the Imperials don’t seem to be focussing on his squad anymore but it meant they had what they wanted. And it boiled his blood. Hunter would blaze through this galaxy if he thought it would lead him straight to the rest of his family. But they still needed to be careful and clever.

This current move was dangerous and reckless, if they really analysed it. But this is what they were bred for. Combat, covert missions, tipping the scales in their favour.

“Who stands before me next?” A female commanded.

“I can make a deal,” the desperate Pyke chatted right before Hunter shoved him forcefully through the opening door. They had come to Devaron to chase up the only current lead they had. It chafed on Hunter’s pride, to do the dirty work of others for just a scrap of intel. But he’d do anything for Omega.

The chamber was large, members of the syndicate watched from the sides which Tech took in with great interest. Hunter didn’t care, focussing on the female sat on the throne. He shoved the Pyke again, forcing him out onto the red barrier that he had no doubt the last visitor had fallen through.

“The mercenaries we discussed,” Roland informed Isa Durand.

“Such courage to demand an audience with me.” Her voice echoed through the cavernous chamber, as regal and commanding as her posture on the throne. Tech stood relaxed, his brown eyes taking in new details as he studied everything around them. They had no plan to get out if this went badly. Wrecker was nervous about the drop below his feet but he did nothing except shift a foot on the barrier.

“You’d be dead if my son hadn’t convinced me to consider your offer.”

Hunter pulled the severed horn from his belt, showing what was in his hand. “And we’re here to deliver.” He tossed the horn to Roland, trying not to remember the discussion Tech and Wrecker had on the way here, wondering if the Devaronian was going to try and reattach it. “You asked for the Pyke who disgraced your family.”

“He’s all yours,” Wrecker told them, slapping the Pyke on his back.

“It won’t be traced back you,” Hunter’s helmet tipped towards Tech. “We made sure of it.”

Isa regarded them for a moment and Hunter felt a trickle of sweat run down the side of his face.

“Take him below.” The Pyke protested, threatened, but it was pointless. He was dragged beyond the door and sealed from sight. “Impressive. Your willingness to cross the Pykes shows how desperate you are.” Hunter hated she pointed that out, grateful to the helmet covering his face. “Tell me, why is the intel you’ve requested of such value to you?” Roland had told them to be honest. He said his mother did not appreciate liars and she wouldn’t hesitate to send them below if she thought they were hiding anything.

“Doctor Hemlock stole someone from us. We heard your syndicate had the connections needed to find the Imperial’s base. And since we’ve upheld our end of the bargain,” Hunter ignored the sharp inhale from Tech at his temper starting to come through in his words. “Now it’s your turn.”

Hunter saw Tech’s fingers flex. He wouldn’t have time to do anything if Isa decided to send them into the depths and it irked him. But Hunter didn’t want anything risking this exchange.

The floor extended from the throne dais, meeting the force field beneath their feet so Roland could cross the space to speak to them.

“Hemlock’s whereabouts have been well guarded by the Empire, but one of our sources came across these coordinates linked to his laboratory.”

“And they’ve been verified?” Hunter asked. Too many times had they hoped, only for it to be smashed into a dead end.

“Take what you came for and go, before my generosity runs out,” Isa demanded. Tech reached for the chip, depositing it in a pouch on his belt.

“I hope you find who you’re looking for,” Roland told them quietly. The heaviness in his gaze conveyed he knew exactly who it was.

None of them spoke on the way out to the ship. Hands never straying far from their weapons until the ramp had closed firmly behind them. Tech guided the Marauder easily out of the atmosphere, using the coordinates in the chip to programme their hyperspace jump. Only when the blue and white lights rushed over the canopy, did they breathe easily.

“That went smoother than I thought,” Wrecker broke the silence in the cockpit.

“Indeed. Still, this could be another dead end,” Tech let out a brief sigh.

“No point thinking like that until we’ve visited the coordinates for ourselves,” Hunter murmured. “Wrecker, contact Echo and find out if they can come with us. Tech, what do we know about where we are heading?” Tech grabbed his datapad, moving to the console in the hold where he as able to bring up the details.

“Setron. A jungle planet, with no known occupied settlements. A perfect place, it seems, to hide a secret laboratory.”

“Sounds promising.” Hunter crossed his arms and leaned against the wall. His gaze drifted to the doll Wrecker had given to Omega, propped up like it was looking for her return. Tech continued to research the planet, looking for a landing site and about any possible threatening creatures or plants they should be aware of.

Wrecker came through from the cockpit, drawing their attention. “Echo said he and Rex need two rotations before they can meet us at the coordinates.”

Hunter frowned, an expression he couldn’t seem to shift these days. He knew he couldn’t just drop these things on Rex and Echo, they had their own fight going on. Yet the frustration was still there.

“That’s not good enough. We’re going now.”

“It would be practical to wait for backup,” Tech said, knowing exactly how reckless his brother was becoming the longer their search went on. “The last few encounters we have had with the Empire, have not always ended in our favour.”

“I know they haven’t.” Hunter stalked into the cockpit. Wrecker sighed and shared a look with Tech before they joined him. “Omega and Stitch have been waiting for us for a long time. I’m not…I can’t make them wait another day.”

Tech couldn’t deny it. Hunter was right, you had been gone for too long. He prided himself on his memory and holding onto facts and details. But for some reason, anything to do with you was not as easy to recall as it once had been. He needed you here, back in the ship with him. Where you belonged.

His attention was directed to the flashing light on the console. “Approaching Setron. I am not detecting any ships.”

“Surely that’s a good thing?” Wrecker asked.

“Perhaps,” Tech answered, bringing the ship smoothly out of hyperspace. “I would have anticipated some form of orbital activity.”

“Maybe it’s that secret they can’t have ships hanging around.”

“Means they will other ways of deterring visitors,” Hunter added. “Eyes open.”

“They always are,” Wrecker sighed.

The ship descended into the atmosphere, drifting through the thick misty, cloud cover to find a clearing in the jungle large enough to house the ship.

“I have run a rudimentary scan of the surrounding area and found no Imperial activity so far.” Tech put on his helmet, checked his blasters and grabbed the datapad.

“Sounds like this could be…” Wrecker stopped mid sentence, glaring at them both as they stared at him. “Fine, I won’t say it,” he grumbled, notching his helmet up so it rested on his forehead.

The ramp opened, letting the stuffy air from the jungle filter into the ship. Tech set his goggles to record, while his datapad caught the fauna noises that warbled through the heavy trees.

Wrecker let out a disgusted sound. “Smells like rancid Jotaz out here.”

“For once, Wrecker. I am inclined to agree,” Tech’s nose wrinkled and wished his helmet filtered out the smell.

“Anything?” Hunter asked.

“Negative,” Tech replied, lifting the datapad higher. “The signal could be being jammed.”

“Mmm. My thoughts too. Let’s move, keep an eye out for anything.” Hunter took the lead through the jungle. Pausing every now and again to sort through his senses. Even though the scanner was potentially being jammed, his enhanced senses were not and Tech watched him closely. Noticing the quickened pace and the sharp change of direction until they broke out of the trees and onto a rocky outcropping.

Below them was the base, and not how they expected to find it. “Fascinating,” Tech breathed. His eyes widening at the buildings and how they had been completely devoured by vines.

“That’s the lab?” Wrecker asked in disbelief.

“They destroyed it,” Hunter pointed out. “Another orbital bombardment.” The reminder of Kamino’s destruction was always there. The explosions that rocked their feet, the water rushing in, the booms as buildings fell into the sea to be swallowed up and never seen again.

“But Omega!” Wrecker panicked. “Stitch…if they were here…”

“We don’t know if they were,” Hunter cut across him.

“The intel we have could be incorrect,” Tech offered, hoping to soften the sharpness of Hunter.

“Whatever this is, let’s get down there and check it out.” He took the lead again, leaving Tech and Wrecker to fall into step.

“I really thought this was going to be it,” Wrecker admitted softly. Tech had no words for him, he couldn’t. Logically he knew there was a high probability Omega and you would not be here. But he had still dared allow a fragment of hope to kindle.

“We might yet find something inside,” Tech finally said.

“Yeah,” Wrecker mumbled. “Maybe.”

The jungle terrain was not easy. Roots the thickness of Wrecker’s arms curled over the ground, slick with soft moss and surrounded by sticky mud. The way down was treacherous, but they’d encountered worse. Finally it levelled out and they slowed to a walk until Hunter raised his fist.

Tech immediately drew his blasters and Wrecker hunkered down. “We’re not alone,” Hunter eased out, drawing his own weapon.

“Freeze!” Two young boys stepped into view, makeshift weapons in their hands. Tech held his weapons steady, trying to figure out what teenagers were doing out here.

Wrecker laughed at them, already deciding they weren’t a threat. “Blaster beats stick, kid.”

“Tech, do you see it?” Hunter asked, not taking his eyes off them.

“Both adolescent males,” he said, casting a sideways glance at Hunter when he held out a hand and relaxed.

“They’re regs.”

“And who are you?” One of them demanded.

Wrecker kicked his helmet up, while Hunter removed his entirely to address them face to face.

“We’re clones. Same as you.”

“You don’t look like clones,” the kid answered back.

“They must be 99s,” the other one said. “Defectives.”

Tech holstered his blasters and pulled out the datapad to run another scan of the area. Something wasn’t quite right but he couldn’t put his finger on it.

“Defective and effective,” Wrecker told them with a smirk.

“What are you two doing out here?”

“What’s it look like?” The one on the left snapped at Hunter. “Surviving. Or trying to. No thanks to the Empire.”

“They send you to finish us off?”

“Do we look like we’re with the Empire?” Wrecker sounded offended by their words. The boys looked them over, Tech avoided meeting their scrutinising stares, concentrating on the scanner and why it still wasn’t picking anything up.

“What do you want?” One finally asked.

“We’re looking for a young girl. She’s a clone. We think she was sent to the lab here,” Hunter explained. “And an adult, female. A medic but she would have come in as a prisoner.”

“Never saw anyone like that, but Mox might know about them.”

“He won’t talk to them,” the other boy interrupted.

“Please,” Hunter stepped forward. “We have to find them. They’re, part of our squad.” The boys looked at each other until one gave a quick sigh.

“Stick to the trail. Follow our steps. And don’t touch the vines.” Tech looked up at the broken building. He knew those vines weren’t natural, their colouring did not match the other vines within the jungle and if he had to guess, he’d say they seemed to be originating from the building itself.

They all walked in silence for a bit until Wrecker couldn’t take it anymore. “So, er. How did you end up here?”

“When the Empire transferred us off Kamino, we thought we were getting more training. Instead they made us prisoners. Took samples of our blood.”

Tech frowned, his datapad was recording everything so he’d be able to come back to this later. Anything the cadets could give them might help in trying to work out what exactly Hemlock wanted.

“Do you know what they were looking for?” Tech asked them.

“No idea,” one replied.

“They didn’t tell us anything.”

“At least we escaped before they destroyed the facility.”

Tech followed the cadets through the flora, taking care when pushing it aside, the warning about the vines still held his curiosity. “Wrecker!” He shouted, already knowing he was too late.

“What?!” The large clone demanded, letting the thick dark vine go after he’d pushed it aside.

“Behind you!” Hunter called out. Tech rushed forward, watching the vine begin to slither and slide, the end waving in the air.

“Run!” The cadets took off while the others pulled their weapons.

“I do not see our blasters doing any considerable damage,” Tech said as they moved back a few paces.

“We’ll see about that.” Wrecker let loose a few bolts, the vine almost crying out from the burn.

“Don’t shoot! It gets hostile when you shoot!” A cadet called from behind them.

“You mean, it’s not already hostile?” Wrecker shouted.

“I feel this situation has the potential to escalate,” Tech said pragmatically just as a vine from behind grabbed Wrecker, pinning his arms and swinging him back into a tree.

“Hunter!” The vine started to drag Wrecker up. Tech continued to provide cover fire while Hunter pulled his blade free and sliced through the plant holding Wrecker with one swipe. The other vines retreated as abruptly as they had appeared.

“That will not be the end of it,” Tech stated calmly.

“Come on!” The cadets called and rushed off, not waiting to see if the others followed.

They reached a clearing where Wrecker doubled over to catch his breath. Tech was already moving around with his datapad, pressing buttons on his vambrace to cycle through the different scans he could perform and see if the vines showed up.

“What was that stuff?” Wrecker huffed.

“Slither vines.” Tech cocked his head at the reply, not something he’d heard of before. “The Empire made it. It’s some kind of experimental weapon, until they lost control of it.”

“Intriguing,” Tech whispered. He knew Hemlock was interested in experimenting on humanoids, he had no idea the Empire’s interest stretched outside of that category.

He ignored the pang in his chest when his thoughts turned to you, as they always did. He held onto the fact the Empire was so desperate for you they sent out a bounty. Which meant they wanted you for a reason. So you still had to be alive.

“Probably why they ordered a Base Delta Zero on their own facility,” one of the cadets was saying when Tech focused on the conversation again.

“We’ll be safe on the crag. The slither vines haven’t spread there.”

“Yet.”

By the time they made it to the cadet’s camp, darkness had fallen. The other cadet, Mox, had lit a fire seemingly waiting for the others to come back.

“Who are they?” He instantly demanded, pointing the stick at the adults.

“Clones. We found them by the overlook.” Tech stood to the side, his back to the fire so he could put his visor down and scan the surrounding area for heat signatures. He found the lack of signal very peculiar.

“What do you want?” Mox queried suspiciously.

“We’re looking for a young girl. She was taken by an Imperial named Hemlock. And possibly an adult, female medic that would have been brought in as a prisoner. Their names are Omega and Stitch.”

After determining the clones weren’t a threat, Mox sat back down. “Never saw a girl around the lab. Only adults we saw were the scientists, no medics. But I know Hemlock. He was in charge, until things changed. One day the Imperials started packing up and shipped out. So we made our move and escaped.”

“We were the only ones to make it out before the orbital bombardment,” one of the other cadets continued the story.

“Even the clone troopers left us to die,” the other chimed in. “Said they were following orders.”

“They were,” Tech spoke up. “Every clone trooper had a chip inserted by the Kaminoans. It is what allowed the Emperor to use them to devastating effect and eradicate the Jedi.” There was a beat of silence as they absorbed his pragmatic words.

“What about you?” Mox insisted.

“We are defective clones, the chip did not work on us. Well, not all of us,” Tech amended. “We have since had ours removed.”

The boys looked at each other and Tech wondered how long they had been out here for. He admired their tenacity, although it was a trait all the clones shared as well as their survival skills.

“We can take you to someplace safe,” Hunter offered. “But we need to find out if Omega and Stitch were here or where Hemlock took them.”

“There is a possibility the Imperials left behind some intel that could help us,” Tech lifted his visor and turned to the cadets. “Is there a control panel or a data socket that I could access?”

The boys glanced at each other until one responded. “One of the control room panels was still intact during our last scout. I tried to use it to send a signal, but there was no power.”

Hunter looked at Tech who gave a slight nod in return. Anything was worth an attempt right now. “Can you take us there?”

“No way,” the other cadet refused vehemently. “That area is covered in slither vines. It’s toxic.”

“Stak’s right,” Mox agreed, standing up the address them. “Going near those ruins is a suicide mission. You’re on your own.”

Tech wanted to shrug and tell them, they had faced worse odds, when the cadet who’d spoken about the panel stepped in front of them.

“They need help, Mox. I’ll go with them.” When no protests came, he grabbed a blaster and a com out of the crate. With a gesture he started to lead the Batch back down to the jungle floor. The remaining cadets watched them leave with grim expressions.

“I can get you inside the ruins, but you won’t be able to get anything from the console without a power source.”

“I have already thought of a solution to that particular problem,” Tech told the cadet. “We must return to the ship to retrieve it.”

The torch lights dipped over the uneven ground with every step. “This clone you’re looking for…”

“Omega,” Hunter supplied her name in the cadet’s pause.

“How long has she been gone?”

“Too long. But we’re not giving up.”

“The other one. The medic. Is she a clone too?” Tech could feel Hunter’s gaze on him through the gloom, as though he could break apart at the mere mention of you. “She is not,” he answered.

“But she’s just as important to us,” Wrecker added.

“I wish the other clones felt that way about us,” the cadet sighed wistfully. “You may be defective, but at least you’re loyal.”

The ship materialised in the darkness, highlighted by the torches. The ramp lowered, everything about the ship sounded loud and out of place in this part of the jungle. Tech walked up the ramp with Wrecker just behind him.

“Gotta job for you, Gonky.” The droid beeped in excitement and Tech’s mouth twisted into a grimace.

“It will neither be fun or exciting. But it is important,” he told Gonky while attaching a leather harness to him. “Ready?” Wrecker nodded, dropping to his knees and slipping his arms through the straps. Gonky honked, his feet waving around Wrecker’s helmet. “Yes, I’m making sure they are tight enough,” Tech reassured the droid with a gentle pat on the metal casing.

“Right,” Wrecker stood up slowly, finding his balance and shrugging the straps to a more comfortable position. Tech followed him down the ramp, mentally checking his pack for everything he could possibly need.

“Lead the way, kid.” Wrecker’s melancholy mood had lifted with the possibility that this trip wasn’t a complete waste of time.

“Name’s Deke,” the cadet offered.

“I’m Wrecker, Hunter, Tech and this Gonky,” he replied, gesturing to the droid on his back.

“I don’t really know what we’ll find down there,” Deke admitted. “But it probably won’t be pleasant.”

“Nothing ever is,” Hunter huffed a despondent sigh.

The journey down to the entrance was hard work. Their torches only lit up a few feet in front of them and it made the jungle seem to stretch out around them forever.

Wrecker tripped a couple of times, not used to having the weight of Gonky on his back and the ground was unfamiliar. “I don’t like this,” the big clone mumbled to himself.

“It is only going to get more stimulating once we are inside,” Tech informed him.

“Part o’ me thinks you’re enjoying this.”

“I have never seen flora that reacts like these, slither vines. There is an obvious connection within the plant itself, that allows it to deal with any threats swiftly and efficiently. I would really like to see the point of origin. Is it a single specimen that has spread over the entire building, or multiple plants that have grown and connected together?” Tech mused. “From what I have witnessed so far, it almost seems to be verging on sentience.” The group came to a stop but it took Tech three more paces before he realised he was the only one moving. “Is there a problem?” He asked, pausing to look at them over his shoulder.

Hunter shook his head, approaching Tech so he could pat his spaulder fondly. “No, no problem. It’s nice to see you so interested in something again.”

“Does it have to be killer vines though?” Wrecker groaned.

“I do not see anything else remotely interesting other than these vines,” Tech defended himself while feeling the ghost of a smile forming.

“You won’t be saying that when it’s crushing your ribs.” Wrecker knocked affectionately into Tech, nearly losing his balance in the process.

“At this rate, you will not make it to the lab in one piece. Or Gonky. And we need him.”

“Do you want to carry the droid?” Wrecker called over his shoulder. Now Tech did smile, rolling his eyes before following the others. It had been a while since they had had the energy to poke fun at each other.

“This is it,” Deke told them once they had caught up to him. “There’s slither vines everywhere in there. Interesting or not,” he said with a glance at Tech. “Be careful where you step.” He took the lead, with Hunter behind him, then Wrecker and Tech brought up the rear.

Tech looked up as they entered the large entrance of the compound. Vines climbed to the walls, slithering slowly along the ceiling and encroaching on the floor. They had to watch their feet carefully, making sure they didn’t touch any of the tendrils in their path.

“Fascinating,” Tech breathed. The vines seemed to be emitting noxious spores. Deke had mentioned the air here was toxic, clouds of it bloomed sporadically from random parts of the vines. Tech wanted a closer look but he couldn’t get distracted from the main objective.

Deke lead them in silence. Metal creaked above the group and Wrecker paused, his torch light wavering slightly. “I don’t like this,” he hissed to Tech. A deep rolling sound echoed down the corridor. “I really don’t like this.”

“How much further is the console?” Hunter growled. He was just as anxious as Wrecker, feeling that something was going to happen, deep in his gut. He never ignored that feeling.

“Hard to tell,” Deke answered. “More vines have spread down here. We had to stop scavenging the site because of it.”

Tech nudged Wrecker, getting an agitated growl in response before they continued. Hunter looked around, mulling over his next question. “What other experiments were going on in this place?”

“Nothing good. They didn’t exactly tell us what was going on.” Deke paused, swinging his light around.

“Do you hear that?” Tech asked. His visor came down but nothing showed up on the screen. He checked the datapad, tracing the spike in sounds with his eyes.

“Let’s keep moving,” Wrecker urged.

“Wait…” Hunter made them stop, casting his torch light around.

“The sounds…” Tech shook his head. “I assumed they were from an animal. But I was wrong.” He looked up as he spoke, noticing the activity in the plant had increased. “It is the vines.”

Deke cried out as his body hit the floor. Vines wrapped around his legs and began to drag him away. He was lifted into the air, Wrecker grabbed his arms to keep him within reach while Hunter sliced through the violent tendrils with his blade, until Deke dropped to the floor. They crowded together, weapons drawn looking for more vines ready to attack them.

“Look out!” Tech’s warning was just in time as a piece of the vine broke off and launched itself at Hunter. The blast rang out loudly, but vine creature seemed undamaged. It skitted away on misshapen legs, crawling into a hiding place.

“Go! Keep moving!” Hunter shouted.

“Still finding it interesting?”

Tech spared Wrecker a glance, the corners of his eyes creasing with his smile. “Even more so,” he admitted. “Did you see? It had thorns, like teeth.”

Wrecker groaned. “I didn’t. I’m going to have nightmares.”

Their pace eventually slowed as the corridor opened up. Tech looked up when they all stopped. A huge hole broke the roof apart, clearly a wound from the orbital bombardment. Stars littered the sky, a single piece of beauty in this rotten place.

“Ergh,” Wrecker was looking down, where the ground dropped away at their feet. Something bubbled and hissed, liquid oozed in the pit creating a putrid swamp that made even Tech’s eyes water. “I didn’t think it could smell any worse. But I was wrong.”

“We’re in agreement on that,” Hunter said, swinging his torch to further out.

“There’s the console,” Deke pointed to a control panel almost completely hidden by the debris from the roof. “Come on.” He dropped down first, followed by Tech. Then Hunter with Wrecker dropping last, the force of his extra mass created a ringing echo through the whole place.

One by one, they made it across, jumping from piece to piece until they reached the other side. Tech gestured to Wrecker and the pair of them lifted the durasteel strut, tossing it into the fetid quagmire where it sank down out of sight.

“I don’t even wanna know how deep that is,” Wrecker muttered to himself while Tech helped him shrug off Gonky.

The droid chatted a little and Tech inspected the console. Standard Imperial control panel, this would be easy enough to get data from. He pulled the lead from the console, plugging it into Gonky and feeding the battery droid’s power into it.

“Do your thing little guy,” Wrecker patted the droid.

“Well?” Hunter asked from the side, his torch roaming slowly over the swamp.

“Power has been restored. I will be able to download any information they left behind.” Tech plugged in his datapad to the console and started to cycle through the data.

“Something’s coming,” Hunter said slowly. “We need to make this quick.”

Wrecker went to stand next to him at the edge. “Is it more of those things?”

“No. Something…else.” Wrecker pulled out his knife, refusing to be caught unawares again.

Deke stood beside Tech. “I am familiar with this system, most of this data looks to be useless.”

“I am confident there will be something of note in here,” Tech informed him as he pressed another button and opened a separate file. “I just need time.”

A deep rumbling growl grated through the pit. The debris they were standing shifted and Tech adjusted his balance, spreading his legs wider. A large air bubble rose to the surface, exploding in a shower of rancid water and sludge.

Tech barely flinched when Hunter and Wrecker opened fire at whatever had snuck up behind him. Water splashed on his armour and the screen of the datapad, which he just wiped and carried on going through the data. The ground shifted beneath his feet, making him glance to the side. A huge tentacle rose out of the water, wider than Wrecker and set on crushing them all.

“Tech!” Hunter shouted, his armour lit up by the blaster bolts as he fired. “Times up!”

It wasn’t enough to go through everything, but Tech could definitely see his time had run out. Wrecker hastily grabbed Gonky, attaching him back onto the harness while Tech unplugged him from the console. He tucked the datapad away and pulled his own blasters. Deke was talking into his com, backing away, no doubt asking his brothers for help.

“Look out!” Wrecker shouted and the group split. A tentacle came crashing down, Tech’s eyes widened when he saw it wasn’t the limb of some creature. This was a thick vine, twisted and gnarled by whatever experiments it had been subjected to. Tech stood there for a moment, watching the vine rise up once more ready to crash down again.

“Let’s go! Let’s go!” Hunter’s shout made him move, following the others to climb up and out. The vine came down again, dislodging the durasteel they were climbing. Deke cried out. He began to fall but Hunter reacted quickly, lunging forward to grab his ankle before he went completely out of sight. Tech jumped over, getting to his knees to help pull the cadet up, shooting at the vine at the same time to deter it striking again.

“In here!” They followed Wrecker into another corridor only to be faced with more putrid water. A vine pursued, attempting to seek them out and only getting hot blaster bolts in return. It made the vine recoil, but Tech could see it did no real damage.

Hunter looked behind them, silently making the decision to jump to the floating debris and the others followed. They kept firing as more vines appeared out of the water.

“It’s everywhere!” Deke cried. Tech wasn’t beginning to see a way of this until they were bathed in light.

Light from the Marauder.

The cadets in the ship lowered the cables, but they couldn’t stop firing. Hunter threw one of the little vine crawlers off his arm and Tech shot it. They needed to get on the ship and move it out of the reach of the vines.

“Go!” Deke didn’t hesitate. Grabbing a cable the same time as Wrecker. They both started to lift, Hunter swiftly looked up, shoving Tech towards the cable and shot at a thick vine. He grabbed it, holding on with one hand and his feet, still shooting while Hunter jumped to grab the very end of the cable just in time.

“Osik.” A very fitting word Tech felt, for the current situation. Vines wrapped around the wings of his ship, his grip almost slipping on the cable as he climbed up as fast as he could. The engines struggled against the strength of the vines, flaring with a whine to keep the ship in the air.

“What is that?” Tech looked down at Wrecker’s gasp and realised his assumption at it being just a plant, was incorrect. A circle of serrated teeth rose ominously from the black water. Snarls rumbled through the air as they waved in anticipation of a meal.

“Aim for the mouth!” The cadets started shooting but it made no difference. The creature wasn’t letting go. Tech carried on climbing, heaving himself over the edge of the opening and into the ship.

“We need more firepower!” Hunter yelled through the com as the ship groaned, listing to the side and nearly throwing Tech and the cadets off their feet.

“Incoming.” Tech quickly dragged out the case of explosives, tossing one to a cadet who caught it easily. Mox helped Tech move the crate, giving one last push to ease it over the edge and straight into the open maw of the breast. Stak leaned out, activating the thermal detonator before dropping it down with the rest of the explosives.

Time seemed to stand still as the explosive beeped its count down, rattling round the teeth of the creature until it was finally sucked in with the rest. A bright yellow glow lit it up from within, billowing outwards with the force of the explosion and the vines dropped limply away from the ship.

Tech was already in the pilots chair, pulling away as Hunter and Wrecker pulled themselves up and into the ship.

“I’ve never been so happy to leave a planet before,” Wrecker moaned from the floor. The cadets worked together to free him of Gonky, gently easing to droid to his feet.

Hunter leaned against the hull. He pushed off his helmet, breathing heavily as he regarded his brother. “I dunno,” he said. “It didn’t seem that bad to me.” Wrecker laughed. Hysteria mingled with relief, and Hunter joined in. A sound that hadn’t been heard since you had been taken. He eventually helped Wrecker off the floor, who cracked his back and rolled his shoulders.

“I miss Stitch.” He said that every time his body ached, desperate for the moment he could ask you to do that thing you did with his neck and your hands.

Tech punched the ship into lightspeed, keen to start filtering through the data they had downloaded.

“Did you get much?” Deke asked eagerly.

“I am about to find out.” Tech plugged the datapad in and they both watched the information scroll onto the screen. “It will take me a while to sort through it all.”

“Kids! You hungry?” The boys gravitated to Wrecker who had got the ration box out in the cockpit and started sharing the food around.

Hunter watched them for a beat, a small relieved smile on his face before he turned to watch Tech. “Want some help?”

“It will not take me long,” Tech answered, adjusting his goggles and tapping on the controls of his datapad. “It keeps my mind occupied.”

Hunter nodded. He knew Tech needed this, needed to feel busy. The few days after you had been taken were Tech’s worst. But straight after Omega, he shut off completely. This visit to Setron had been the first time Hunter had finally seen an inkling of his brother shining through the blankness. It had been unnerving, like he was travelling with someone he didn’t know. Hunter supposed this was all new to them, these feelings. Tech most of all.

He walked through to the cockpit, listening to Wrecker tell the boys some tales from the war. He found himself relaxing, joining in with the details because Wrecker only seemed to remember the glorious explosions. They talked about the droids, their memories of Kamino. Because at the end of it all, it had been their home.

Hunter stiffened when Tech came through, the datapad in his hand and a look in his eye. “You found something?”

“I have,” Tech started. “But it could be nothing. I have scoured all the data downloaded, Hemlock transferred his entire base of operations and his experiments to a new location. He never recorded if Omega and Stitch were there, but he does mention a sector.”

“That’s great!” Wrecker’s face split into a beaming smile.

“Still means we have a lot of space to cover,” Hunter said. “But it’s something.”

“Yeah it is!” Stak stumbled under the weight of Wrecker’s joyful back slap.

“It is certainly a lead we cannot ignore,” Tech added.

“What about us?” Deke asked.

Hunter leaned forward in his seat, resting his elbows on his knees. “We’ll drop you three off someplace safe. There are good people there, they’ll take care of you.”

“We’re cadets without an army,” Mox sighed. “I don’t know where we fit anymore.”

“You have time to figure it out,” Hunter told them. “Make your own path. Be something other than a soldier.” The war was over. The Republic was finished. He could help these boys to live a normal life, something so many of the clones would never have the chance to experience for themselves.

“What about you?” Mox inquired.

“Our mission is not over yet.”

“Not until we have Omega and Stitch back on this ship,” Wrecker growled.

“Back where they belong,” Hunter stated firmly, meeting his brother’s eyes, both of them nodding in agreement.

“We could help…” Stak started but Hunter shook his head.

“You’ve suffered enough and this is our mission.”

“Why? Worried you’ll miss us,” Wrecker joked, nudging Deke hard enough so he stumbled into Mox.

“It doesn’t feel right,” Stak continued, his nose scrunching slightly. “To sit back and do nothing.”

“Ah, get used to it kid.” Wrecker kicked his leg up, planting it on the console and leaning back in the chair. “As soon as you see those blue waters and those big, big fish. You’ll never want to leave.” The boys all turned to him, asking questions in a jumbled mass that made the large clone chuckle to himself before he began to tell them all about Pabu.

#sanctuary #sanctuary part 2 #tech x you #tech x f!reader #tech x reader #the bad batch #tech the bad batch #bad batch fanfic #star wars fanfiction

9 notes · View notes

highfantasy-soul · 3 months

Text

NATLA Episode 5 - Spirited Away (2/3)

[Masterlist of my NATLA thoughts]

An explanation of what I'm doing here and my history with ATLA.

Of course, full spoilers ahead.

Combining Zuko chasing Aang in part 2 of the winter solstice with Bato of the Water Tribe and The Blue Spirit was a good move: in only 8 episodes, too many near-misses for him catching Aang could get redundant, so getting June to track him to Roku's temple was a great merging of those lines. While I miss Zuko holding onto Katara's necklace, since Katara didn’t make it to the Avatar temple, it's an ok change for me. It's a convenient way to merge in The Blue Spirit and have Katara and Sokka MIA without them just randomly being sick - they're actually trapped in the spirit world, so their plot is still relevant rather than the 'we're doing nothing but dying of thirst' plot they got in The Blue Spirit episode. Honestly think the way the live-action puts Sokka and Katara on their own journeys during big plot arcs that focus on Aang was really really good. First with the Omashu (animated) episode where they got stuff to do in Into the Dark (live-action) and now here with the Blue Spirit storyline.

I could watch Zuko being horrendously awkward trying to get info in the covert and not screaming orders way for like, 6 episodes. That whole tavern scene was just so freaking hilarious with all the mentions of the side quests from pirates to canyon guides to stopping the volcano! It really felt pulled right from the animated show - paying homage but seeding the themes from those episodes into other part of this live-action story!! Love June's introduction - and I'm so happy they got rid of the weird Iroh and her stuff and just had her compliment him to throw the pair off balance.

So I guess I should address some of the issues people had with June's characterization: I don't think her telling Iroh he was cute (like with Suki and Sokka) was her suddenly simping for an older man and genuinely pursuing him. That is not how people flirt. Take Sokka and Suki - is that how they flirted? Sokka and Yue? Katara and Jet? Aang and Katara in the animated show? Mai and Zuko in the animated show? You know who did flirt like that in the animated show? Tylee with Sokka when they were fighting - only ever when they were fighting. Was that her actually wanting to have a relationship with Sokka - throw out all her own wants to just get with a man? No. It was a way to gain the upper hand in a fight and throw your opponent off balance. With Tylee, she's already a bubbly, cheerful, open person, so we can read that flirtation as flippant and thrown out there because she's confident and not concerned with putting a filter on. With June, she's also confident, but she also is a beautiful young woman bounty hunter who is in a (assumedly) predominantly male field and has to deal with a great deal of strong and dangerous men.

Being incredibly forward with an individual who wouldn't expect to be flirted with is a power move. It's a way for her to assert dominance immediately in the situation - to take the lead and knock them off balance before one of the two men makes an unwanted pass at her. I didn't read her flirtation with Iroh as genuine, or at least, not as her just getting all hot and bothered and rolling over for the pair based purely on the fact that she was attracted to Iroh. She probably is great at reading people and saw that Iroh was marginally decent, so would agree to work with them, but she still wanted the upper hand and control in the situation - she wanted to clearly define her role as someone who was choosing to let them employ her not as a servant to do their bidding. She placed herself firmly above them - there would be no subservience from her. This is also not making June a bad character - it's making her a strong character (strong as in she believes what she believes and is unapologetic about it) it's not 'flipping misogyny into misandry' or whatever, it's showing June has agency. Like with Suki, the live-action gave June an actual character instead of her just being a cardboard cut-out of a Dragon Lady.

Having the lesson being learned in the town be that Zuko needs to stop thinking so rigidly - be prepared to take the unexpected route - was a great story beat to introduce with June. Instead of the plot being straight forward of Zuko sees June = Zuko gets her to track the Avatar and switching it to Zuko being annoyed and insulted that she's a bounty hunter (just as he was insulted that fire nation operatives would fight behind masks and doesn't think his father would approve) and then having to be convinced by Iroh to learn new ways of doing things was a great character building addition.

It's funny to me when people complain 'Zuko didn't say honor ONCE!' when every single action Zuko did - every opinion he voiced - SCREAMED about his honor. What was that again about the live-action telling not showing, not trusting the audience to understand character motivations, and being flat in its characterizations? This very internal integrity - honor - that he has is what's leading him to uphold Fire Nation values and rules so strictly, but it's also the very core honor of his being that will help him turn against his father in the end. It's consistent characterization that's just so wonderful to play with - their core remains the same, but how they interpret it once they have more info changes. And I'm not just saying that because those are my favorite characters to play in DnD! This is a totally objective and unbiased analysis! I swear!

I really loved all the additions with Azula in this season. It really rounds out her character and we see WHY she's as driven as she is in season 2. Seeing her need for perfection, her needing to go above and beyond to do better, and the hint of her blue flame was great. Just like the animated series explores at the end of season 3, no one starts out a 'monster' - they're taught to be that way. I never liked the reduction a lot of the fandom did with Azula and Zuko where Zuko was the one 'born good' and 'like his good mother' while Azula was just 'born bad' because she was the one 'like her father'. People aren't so simple as just being 'born bad'. In the animated series, Azula gets 'humanized' at the very end of the series, but I think showing her striving for the approval of her father - that vulnerability - makes seeing where it takes her in her brutality that much more horrific. We see that she doesn't HAVE to be this way (same with Zuko), but she was pushed to it due to her upbringing - the same as with Ozai and Iroh before Iroh had his loss and change of heart.

I saw some complaints that the spirit world was too bright and cheery here - and uh, I don’t see it? It's super grayed out, misty, creepy af, and ominous. The ONLY time it's colorful and cheery is in Gyatzo's little hut which… yeah, he created that little bubble of happiness - the rest is very in line with its depiction in the animated series. Obviously sans the giant wolf, but basically it's the same vibe - creepy, ominous, and a perturbed spirit warning them away.

In the animated series, Sokka wants to go out and physically fight Hei Bai and Katara has 100% faith that Aang will figure it out. When Aang is thrown back by the spirit, Sokka runs out to help him fight - something that he mirrors in the live-action as it goes after Katara and he draws its attention over to him. Due to them weaving several of Aang's plotlines together in this episode(s), Hei Bai doesn't get as much time to be the main antagonist which I think is a shame, but with them giving more development to Katara and Sokka during this episode, I think it's ok. If I had to choose between more angry spirit destroying a village and seeing the root of Katara and Sokka's character trauma, I'll choose the character trauma every time. I always did think it was a shame that Sokka spent a bunch of time in the spirit realm and we never got to see/hear anything at all about it - there's a lot to delve into there that the animated show just skipped over.

Love love love Yue in the spirit world as a three-tailed fox! And how she explains Hei Bai's pain - foreshadowing the pain of the ocean spirit after it loses the moon spirit - her small bit of dialogue really sets up a lot with Sokka's growth, the state of the world, and the pain of the spirits (and humans reacting when they go through painful things). So cool that the showrunners used this foray into the spirit world and the fog to do a rendition of The Swamp from season 2 - even down to Sokka seeing Yue! Yeah, it happens differently, but the swamp showed each of our protagonists things in their past - and Aang one of his future (though in this episode it GAVE Aang his future). Very well done, in my opinion.

#natla #avatar the last airbender #netflix avatar #natla positivity

10 notes · View notes

cherrysoulth · 4 months

Text

Pissin' Our Pants Yet?- Chapter 2: Match in the gas tank

💕Pairing: Negan x Female Reader

✏️Genre/au: Canon, Action, Smut, Sci-fi, The Walking Dead Fic

✏️Rating: PG 18+, explicit

📝Wordcount: 9954

⚠️chapter warnings: Shitloads of cursing, Gore details (zombies), Mentions of cults, mentions of cult practices, dictatorship status

<<< 𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 1 | 𝕸𝖆𝖎𝖓 𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 | 𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 3 >>>

Hii! Did you stumble across this work? Glad you're here 😊 Please, let me know your thoughts once you are finished. Feedback keeps me motivated to write 😁

Note that English is not my first language, so please if you find grammar mistakes, let me know. :)

My gratitude goes to @alldevilsarehere90 for her hard work on beta reading 🧡

The silence quickly spread across the room. He wants that kind of social pressure on you. He wants you to feel the tension of the expectancy on you to give the right answer.

"I. Am. Negan." You say in a firm tone, as his eyes study you closely.

You realise now why he chose this moment and does not wait for you to be more integrated. Being Negan means giving up your identity to be part of the team, doing things as a group, as Negan would. If you were not Negan, your attack on George would then have been an attack on Negan. So, even if you don't mean it, it was the only possible answer.

"That's true, you fucking are!" he smiles at you with a wolf grin. "Let's see what succulent dinner my wives have made tonight. See what I was talking about? This will be my treat for your cooperation earlier. Still though! You can ask for anything you want." he says, rubbing his hands first then looking at you from up with a smile. "Anything..."

After that little moment of initiation, you follow him through the backstairs in the building, to the top floor where his chambers are. Two beautiful women in elegant black dresses are waiting, leaning on the frames of the double doors. They both look surprised to see you but not a single word leaves their perfectly painted lips.

"I'm going to make myself comfy and then I'll show you around." He gestures for you to come into his room but you stay in front of the open door, seeing how black and grey reign in his private space. It looks fancy, neat, with the big squared windows giving light to the space, it contrasts the general shadow staining the hallways on your way here. One that isn't real an illusion feeling towards the unknown. What is his life like when he is there, alone or with his wives? His mouth twitches, followed by a raised eyebrow in what you interpret as his way of saying 'Ok, don't come in then'.

You watch as he takes his jacket off and does the same with his white tee. Now, you can see his toned back and some tattoos on his body. An old marine unit sticks out in his upper arm, as the only one with known meaning for you. The rest seem pretty personal, you would need to ask about them to get more understanding.

He's not too muscular but sexy as hell. Gorgeous. It stirs those basic instincts in you, making you want to kiss his jaw, his neck, his throat going down his chest. Bite him, lick him. You gulp, without realising. As he grabs a clean piece of clothing and, he reprimands you , with fun, easily read in athe singsong tone.

"I know you're staring."

Instantly you look away towards the wife at your right, then to the left one. They both are giving you a pitiful look. You can only guess it's because Negan can't see them. You've seen their earlier reaction when he arrived: fear. Almost perfectly covert with stoicism but too familiar to miss. 'Why do they fear him? They are his wives. Is he mistreating them?' The idea angers you.

"You ok? Have you seen a ghost?" asks Negan, snapping you out of your thoughts, being just a few centimeters right in front of you. Then you notice the wives are back to staring to the front again, like two beautiful fallen angels protecting their master's door.

"Yes. I mean... No. What are we having?" you wonder in an almost childish tone following the rhythm of his earlier reprimand, letting him pass and following his way. 'Why is everyone so scared of him?' Then something twists in your stomach, sensing the danger possibly creeping in the shadows, from the nervous atmosphere suffocating the room..

As you take a tour through each floor, you can observe there's a general flow in the decoration, since his living room matches his quarters and at the same time is similar to the one in his wives' dormitory. Negan has shown you around when he's decided to 'ask' a subtle order- the wives to add another plate for you at dinner and the four women in that room glanced at you sympathetically while Negan explained to you how having his wives can make him feel human again.

Those stares on their own, would have pissed you off at another time but for some reason, it hasn't hit yet. You are not sure what that look is for, anyway. 'Do they think I'll become a new wife or something...?' you brush it off, not really caring about what they might think about you.

You see the general palette: black, grey, silver, champagne and gold. Except for the flowers on the table: red velvet roses. Perfect, as if they were specially chosen for an advertisement. Everything looks as if you are not at the end of the world at all but in a luxurious house, except for the windows that shake you back to reality. Dust stains them since there's no way to clean them from the outside at this height, but you can still see through them clear enough, the extension of terrain where walkers may lurk between the trees. The outside world that once was precious to look at from above but now just makes you think how harsh it is to walk in it. Truly harsh.

You are surprised by Negan's classy ways. You would have expected something more like a gangster-style kind of thing; sexist, with strippers or at least a pool bar. Maybe because some of his guys look like the kind that lack such classic taste, who prefer vulgar stuff and looking at a woman like they are meat, only made to please them. Maybe you are just judging by bad experiences, you don't know these people anyway, because you have found this place to look like a king's harem instead.

You used to like motorbike gangs. Most of them were cool, some were even hot. Usually, you got involved with a guy from a club and fled before things got too serious. Especially if they got emotional.

Your mum and dad had you and your brother at a young age as a consequence of their love. He was a police officer and ended up being shot when he tried to arrest a thief. That was one of the reasons for you to avoid falling in love with someone, that fear of people dying on you. But a broken heart was the main reason.

You had a boyfriend once and you fell in love blindly. The guy was too broken or you were too young and inexperienced to help him at all. You tried your best, god knows you did, but it all ended up as a useless effort.

He had been your first love, your first in all and that always leaves a mark.

You avoided drugs and guns too, even though you knew some people inside the gangs worked on that. You were just a hangar under or maybe they considered you a lay on, - although you never heard them use that word towards you because of your brother's association with a club. If they ever did though, you were deaf to stigmas in order to avoid being banned from entering a club, for causing trouble because of those comments. You needed to be thick-skinned when it came to male-centred clubs because sexist jokes or comments were almost the norm.

The percentage of drug dealers in motorbike gangs was really low but you happened to come across the wrong people a couple of times. Especially when it came to your ex-boyfriend's brother who was a dealer and a consumer. 'Even with that, those were easier times,' you think 'Or at least I didn't have that many life-threatening situations...' Your brother and your ex made sure to keep you away from trouble as they knew what was behind the curtains and wasn't shown publicly.

His wives are already seated at the table when you snap back into your current reality. As he properly introduces them to you, you notice that they are all dressed in black and high heels like the other two, they look ready for a party in the hot spot club of the moment. But it seems more like you are at a funeral with the kind of tension coming from them with the; 'I don't know what to say' hanging heavy in the air. You think that someone else, in your place, would feel uncomfortable because of it but you like them, like someone that enjoys a bird that's inside a cage. Beautiful creatures on display.

Some people feel the need to free them, and you are that type.

You do not understand how their relationship with Negan works. So far you get that Negan likes to explain things loud and clear, so you probably just have to ask a question, sit down and listen but you don't know if it is a sensitive subject to break on your first night in this place. Especially in front of his wives. 'Six wives!' you think. 'What is he trying to compensate for?'

The wives almost don't say a word during the dinner and you just add the necessary conversation just to keep Negan talking. You need to know more about him, how he thinks, how he moves but he starts to talk about the attack on his outpost and the fact that it has to be a group running around his territory without him knowing who they are. He seems pissed about it again by the way he chews on the bread. The ones he knows don't have enough nuts to defy him this way, according to him.

"So, honey, what have you seen before you arrived at the mall?" he asks before putting the fork with the last veggies in his mouth. The redhead wife, who presented herself as Frankie, looks at you for a second, seeming surprised.

"Do you want a full report of the situation surrounding your safe perimeter or do you want just the general concept? I'm gonna need some maps and our current location, to be able to do the first but in general, everything is screwed up. I've seen a couple of places where you can get interesting stuff, useless for other groups, useful here." you explain, while you play with a pea with your fork. Sherry, at this point, asks if you need to be left alone.

"No, it's fine, finish your dinner, sweetheart," he tells her in a gentle tone and then returns his attention to you. "So, hearing the way you said that, it sounds as if you had military training. Were you infrom the Army?" he asks genuinely curious but with his normal tone.

"My mum was. She taught me to be the tough person I am now," for the way he looks at you fully focused on your words, you understand he wants you to keep talking. "She died a few months ago, along with my brother and I left the group I was with. No hard feelings, no shit, I just couldn't stand to care about someone else... and see them die too." Then you see something in his eyes like it resonates with him, something deep down his soul that he shows from his heart, just for a second. Only to compose himself with that intimidating look that clearly hides his feelings.

'That ain't about the men he lost last night' you think. 'Who have you lost, big bad wolf?'

After the wives leave for the night, you two stay chatting about all kinds of things that come to mind. Just as if you were two friends catching up with each other's lives after a long time apart. At least that's how one could see the scene because there is a point where you can tell he's somehow letting his guard down with you with how he speaks and what he says, even his gestures.

It's not difficult to know, aside from his comfortable stance of walking around the world like he owns it, he's always aware of everything. And at the end of the day, it must be exhausting. Even with that in mind, you can't fully pity him for what he is and what he means to other people. There's also the fact of how easy he's making things for you, when you are sure there's others who have had to claw their way up to the top. Or so you've assumed from what George said.

It means he has something in mind for you. Things are never this easy and when they are, there's always something behind it. There's always a price to pay. Breaking the silence that's formed after your internal cognition, you excuse yourself, wanting to get back to your room and he insists on escorting you.

"It's been a pleasure, Negan. It was the best meal I've had in a long, long time," you say to him when you are just a few steps from your door. "Thank you. Have a nice sleep. I'm sure I will." you give him a little smile, more out of tiredness than gentleness.

"No goodnight kiss?" he questions, when you open your door, putting an arm against the door frame with a smile, while you enter backwards to keep facing him.

"I don't think so," you answer, arching an eyebrow while turning to take off your jacket and leave it draped on a chair.

"What a shame! Maybe tomorrow... Goodnight darlin'." he says, staring back at you for a second with that smile before he starts to walk back to the corridor. You stand there listening to his footsteps retreating as he walks away. It has been an intense day but at least tonight you have one less worry: you aren't going to wake up with a walker chewing your face off. The rest is just the same.

It takes you practically seconds to fall asleep once you get inside the covers and your head falls onto the fluffy pillow. Your chat with Negan lasted until the early morning, when everyone seemed to have gone to bed, quietness reigning inside The Sanctuary and you are very tired already from sleeping rough on the road. When you are alone, time seems to lose its sense. At some point you stop counting, now you can't remember how long you have actually been alone. You think it has to be at least six months for the seasons' change but that isn't precise enough.

No nightmares this time, but no dreams either. Just the whiteness of an empty mind. At least that is the sensation you feel before the knock on the door breaks your state of mind travelling nowhere and you wake up startled. For a second you panic 'Where the fuck am I !?' as you frantically search for the knives on your belt. Then you remember everything that happened the day before and breathe, as you stand to look through the dirty glass of your window. This new day is starting to break, you can see it in the faded purple and orange that stain the horizon. You wonder what time it must be until you remember the clock. Half past six. 'Why!?' you roar internally for whomever it's outside the door.

"What?" you voice out in a dry and moody tone as you open the door.

"Good morning sweetheart...Uuuh...Nice panties." says Negan, who's already resting his forearm on the door frame. You remember now that you took everything off and just left your panties and top on. 'Like he hasn't seen a woman in her underwear...' "You ain't wanna go out like that, right? So hurry up and get dressed, it's time to see what kind of cards you keep up your sleeves." you have already started to dress before he's even ended the sentence. "So," he says as he leans with his right side against the door following your every move with his dark eyes. "Today you'll go with Arat. You're gonna check the places you told me about yesterday. And that better be good, 'cause I'm coming too." he adds with a grin and some brow raising.

"I thought the king would be too busy doing..." you roll your wrist while looking away as if you are thinking. "Whatever kings do..." you conclude looking at him. "If they do anything at all," you add in a lower tone, as you turn around to pick up your backpack from the closet.

"You think you're funny, uh?" he says, faking offence. When you turn around his smile tells you he did find that funny.

"You look like you had a good fu--sleep last night." 'He's not your friend. His private life has nothing to do with you.' you think while tying your boots. To your surprise, there's no immediate response or a joke and when you look at him, he seems to be trying to decipher you as if you were talking another language.

"Are you... jealous?" he asks you as if having a lot of fun with the question. You know he is joking but you roll your eyes. "The candy shop is open for you too, darling. You just have to ask for your favourite sweet," he adds, bouncing his knees thrustingraising his pelvis, as a sexual insinuation.

"Jealousy is for insecure people or those who see a cheating bastard on their partner or cheat themselves. Besides...I should feel or have something for or with you for that to be even possible. So, no. I'm sorry for your ego but the answer is no." you answer, as you walk to the door expecting him to move aside to let you pass but instead he walks towards you. "I don't want sweets either. You can get decayed teeth." 'I can be metaphoric too, you know?' you add for yourself.

"I know I'm growing on you. Since the moment we met," he tells you, with a hot voice that runs chills down your spine. 'What if I do? It doesn't mean anything is gonna happen.' you say to yourself. He gets so close, his mouth is almost touching yours. "Besides...We do have something." that thought gets lost in your mind when you feel his breath on your mouth and kiss him, letting passion do its own work.

You put your hands around his nape between his deliciously warm skin and his leather jacket. Your lips smoothly caress his and you feel the wetness at the centre, inviting the caress from the tip of your tongue before you deepen the kiss. Then you stop for a second, without letting him go, just to take his lower lip between yours. Just after a second, you're back to attach your mouths again. Meanwhile he grabs you by the thighs to put himself between your legs, then moves to press your back against the wall. But when he puts his hand under your top where it meets your hip, something switches inside your head.

"Ok, ok, ok. You proved a point here." You say, breathlessly. To that, he lets you down softly.

"I'm not sure about that. I think I could keep with this all day long...Just to make sure you get it." he says without moving, proudly looking at you from above, with a mischievous smile.

"I don't think that's gonna happen." then you recall that's what you said last night. 'Be more true to your word if you want to be taken seriously.' you tell yourself. "What I mean is, stop playing with me. I don't want this mess. Just be with your wives and leave me out of it." Just as soon as you say that, you leave your room with the devil hot on your trails if chased by the devil.

Minutes later, you ask the first Saviour you find in the hallways where to go to find Arat because all corridors are so similar you are not even sure where you are anymore. You find her near a truck. Negan is already there, bouncing and giving orders while some jump in vehicles and head out. As soon as you reach Arat, Negan gives you two maps and instructions, acting as if you are just any other Saviour. Exactly what you want, even though you still have the taste of his mouth in yours and it's driving you insane.

It's been too long in abstinence and he's like the red juicy apple for Eve.

You and Arat are meant to go to the head of the convoy, just behind Negan's truck. There are another four trucks that will take other routes with him, to be able to check other spots near the one that's been chosen for you; the abandoned school, to try and find out if there's anything interesting.

When everything started, the schools were used as camps for the special forces because of the open spaces and many classrooms. So there could be something left behind.

But you don't get that lucky. After expecting to find a good load of guns, it seems that the army left only a few men here. As far as you can see, they were attacked by walkers while they were trying to move the few survivors to the military helicopter. You two start clearing out the outside from the last walkers wandering around and decide to leave the inside of the building for later, in case a herd decides to appear and you lose the chance to pick up the stuff that's waiting outside for whoever wants to take it.

You start checking the place for any weapons left on the floor and any car that might still be useful.

"This one is fine," you say to Arat after checking a four-wheel engine but after looking for the keys in every place inside the car, it comes up empty. "It needs a jump starter, the keys are nowhere to be seen," you tell her, then notice she isn't near anymore, searching for her you see she's putting a couple of assault rifles and some ammunition inside the cab of your truck while she keeps an eye on where you are.

Then, both of you walk to a unit for medical supplies in sync, you open the door like the SWAT would do and a walker comes out after a few seconds, falling through the stairs. Just to find himself stubbed with a throwing knife. You two enter and check if there are no other walkers inside. The place is clear and kind of clean, with only little stripes of skin stuck to any sharp edge as if the walker has been moving around the room attracted by something that's been outside.

"Pick up three plastic boxes." Arat orders, so you walk outside directly to the van.

"Kyle, do you see anything?" you ask through the radio to one of the Saviors. His mission is to look after you and Arat from a highway road next to where you are. He's using a sniper to see more accurately if anything moves around to the camp.

"Two lost souls, no horde. I see many walkers through the windows of the building. Be safe." says the man cutting the communications.

When you two have put the medical supplies in the back seat of the truck, you two decide it's time to check inside the building.

You two stay in front of the door for a few seconds before pushing the entrance open. The hallway is clear all the way along the school, as you move around to take the fire extinguishers and other supplies that were left along the walls. Mainly boxes with basic camp supplies such as; torches, batteries, pillows, blankets, disposable medical outfits and masks that you two put on a metallic trolley. Next to it, you notice an exhibitor with yearbooks and trophies. Taking everything to the truck that Arat has now moved to the front of the building to ease the work.

Once you've emptied the corridors, you two move room to room from the entrance all the way back to the rear doors.

The library is full of books but there's only one body sitting at the study tables with a bullet wound in the head and a handgun still held by his unanimated fingers. Taking the gun and checking there's still bullets inside, you place it in your backpack. You also check inside the librarian's desk and find a gold handwatch and a bottle of Nina Ricci perfume. You place them in your backpack too. On your radio, you notify the scavenge party that's with Negan, about the books on the next channel. The man on the line says they'll pick it all up later. Somehow you expected Negan to answer but you shake yourself out of the thought.

'That can only end badly. Stop thinking about it.'

You meet Arat at the entrance as she walks carrying a box towards the truck. There you take the watch out of the backpack and place it between the sheets inside of it, taking one of the material bedding with you back inside the library, to cover the body with it.

"Why am I not surprised?" says Arat leaning on the door frame. "Don't bother, he's going to be left outside. We don't waste time burying people." You are not surprised because it would be a task that never ends if you buried every single dead body you found. But you still leave the body covered before following her.

As you open the science classroom door, you're met with a huge walker, coming at you, desperate to eat your fresh flesh. You stab him in the cerebellum through the jaw with your hunting knife. But before you are even able to open the lab cabinets, you hear Arat's footsteps approaching you.

"What are you doing here?" she asks impatiently as if you are wasting time.

"We need to pack this stuff, it can be useful for someone who knows how to use it."

Arat raises her shoulders in response. "Fine. But leave it for later, let's keep going. I've found the rest of the supplies in the gym but there's some dead-not-so-dead there." she says.

You take your knives from your belt and nod. You two walk the hallway side by side and push the door open with opposite feet. She kills the first walker with her hunting knife and you throw your knives putting three others out of their misery, as she kills another one from further away before it even has time to come her way. You kill the last one left with your own hunting knife.

"Good job." she congratulates you, as you move to pull out your knives from the putrid skulls.

"Thank you," you nod, as you clean them with a rug hanging from the edge of a bed. There you notice a couple of bodies between the lined-up bunk beds, shot in the head. When you look around there's more. Placed exactly like that. What you hate the most about it, is that it doesn't phase you. Something that would have kept you awake at night almost three years ago, doesn't affect you that much anymore. You've stopped trying to see the person behind the corpse in order to keep your sanity but they were people and they were shot before turning.

"At least they didn't suffer," Arat tells you from behind as she picks up a box.

"But why would they do this if they had supplies?" you wonder. She stops for a second and looks around, then towards the supplies.

"You saw what happened with the helicopter, maybe there were too many of those things around and they thought it was the best they could do." she says as she places a box in your hand. "The ones we've killed just now, they weren't shot. So they didn't have enough bullets to defend themselves and there was definitely not enough food to feed this many people."

"They thought they would starve to death because of the walkers and decided to end it before that," you reply in understanding. Some bodies were chewed on by the ones that died in other ways. "The ones we've found in the other classrooms were locked from the inside..." you tell her as you two walk down the hallway. You can only imagine why. "We should park the truck next to the emergency door, we'll go faster. I'll go pack the lab stuff and I'll take it to the gym."

While she manoeuvres the van, you manage to open the cupboards and fit a first cardboard box full of test tubes and other glass materials. You decide to leave the chemicals for later and run to pick up the trolley from the entrance to place the boxes in it and go to the gym. While Arat places some supply boxes filled with dry food and other survival supplies, you position your boxes in the gap behind your seats. Pulling up the folding bed to be able to place them next to each other and avoid piling them up. Then you jump out to help her with the boxes and a defibrillator that was in the gym instead of the medical unit, for some reason.

When everything is on the back of the truck you two take a walk around the playground at the back of the building, directed to where the four-wheel is so you can drive it to find the rest of your group. That's when you find something you didn't expect in the slightest; a flamethrower. Without thinking twice about it but knowing you probably shouldn't have, you aim it at the school bus, which is already a little bit tatty and shoot against it.

'I might never get another chance...' you think with a smile on your face.

"Did someone hate school?" you hear Negan from the radio in a fit of laughter, probably watching the scene from the highway too, and in a matter of seconds Arat appears.

"I wouldn't have guessed this would happen today. Now, I know you're having fun, but, stop playing with that shit. I want it." he says, the last part with a stark, authoritative tone that reminds you which position he holds above you all.

You don't answer to the radio but roll your eyes as Arat gets down from the cabin and walks towards you, along with the radio in her hand and a cheeky smile. When you start to walk towards her, you hear a weird noise, like metal cracking and you two drop to the floor just as an explosion bursts behind you.

"Are you psychotic!?" asks Arat, not smiling anymore and still on the floor. The noise of flames and metallic parts falling around is almost deafening

"What the hell just happened!?" you ask, eyes wide open in shock. Your confusion clears, thinking you were being attacked before you realize what you've just done.

"You did it, you silly bitch!" she says laughing from the depths of her lungs. "What are you surprised about!?"

When you look behind, the bus you've just burned is all messed up with pieces of it surrounding you. You two were lucky to not get badly hurt or winding up dead by the shrapnel. You just have a few cuts, the same as Arat.

"Was that supposed to happen!?" you ask even more surprised now that you understand the mess you've just made. She shrugs her shoulders.

"Are you guys ok!?" you hear Negan's voice over the radio.

"We are heading in your direction, are you under attack?" says Dwight, getting on the frequency. You hear the sound of their engines in the distance.

"Negative. I just bombed a school bus!" you say, starting to laugh. "Oh my God! That was...fun," you say as you keep laughing.

"How old are you? Ten?" Dwight replies, trying to sound serious but you can hear in his tone he's actually amused. "Be careful that's sure to call the attention of the walkers," he warns, cautiously.

"Don't be such a pussy, Dwight! You think I'll let the ladies be eaten like a red velvet cake by those tasteless pieces of shit?" says Negan. "Not on my watch," he adds, with no reply from Dwight. Not that he expected one, of course. "Coast's clear, ladies. Pack whatever you found and get hell out of there 'cause we can't see shit through the woods."

"Yes, sir." you hear Arat answer dutifully through her radio. "Seems like we are done here," she tells you while turning towards the truck.

You put the flamethrower with the rest of the stuff in the trunk and make sure everything is safe inside for the journey. Then you head to the road following her with the car, you see through the mirrors that some walkers are arriving at the place.

'What counts is not the amount, it's their position and they are coming from everywhere.'

"Negan, you see that?"

"Hm... Yeah. It might be risky just for some books." he says. "Boys, turn around, we'll pick up the readin' if we drive by. Another day," he orders.

When you two meet with the rest of the convoy, you find Negan staring at you as if he's going to lecture you like an undisciplined child. Instead, he just checks what's in the back of the vehicle to have an overview of everything.

"Well done! That's a good load!" he says, with a smile that doesn't fool you or anyone who knows him. The tension in his voice says otherwise, and you are unsure if he's even trying to hide that fact. When he gets near his car, you realise that he's having the courtesy to wait for you two to be alone to say whatever he needs to. From what you've picked up from Arat, Negan's very public about everything. So it has to be bad. "Alice, you'll drive with me. I think we have to discuss some of the rules again." Just like that, without giving an option, he jumps inside his car and puts the engine on.

You hop in and wait for some shouting and blaming but instead, he remains silent for a bit

Come as you are by Nirvana sounds on the music player masking the silence.

"What in the fucking fuck were you thinking!?" he says suddenly while looking at you sideways. "I'm good at reading people and I don't fucking think you are one of those kamikaze shit-fucks who don't give a fuck about dying or getting someone else dead. SO. Tell me, are you nuts!? 'cause I would like to know before I put someone else at fucking risk because of a sudden fantastic idea you might have..."

"Don't be an asshole! I might seem nuts to you but I didn't know that was going to explode like a fucking balloon!" you respond, rolling your eyes and turning your body towards him.

'Well, I kind of knew. But I thought it wouldn't look the way it does in films.' To that, he calmly pulls the car to the side of the road and with his arm out of the window gestures for the rest of the trucks to keep on their way.

"Ok, then you are just a reckless lady," he says, looking at you as he keeps gesturing. "You are out of the mission. No Saviours for you. I'll find you something to do inside. If that ain't enough, I can be a lot more of an asshole, just try me." he continues looking at you directly, resting his elbow on the top of the headrest.

"Hm, I think that's unbeatable. I think I'll pass, thank you," you say sarcastically, looking at the front quite angry. It takes you a minute to cool down a little and notice that he's right to be angry. Looking at him again, only to see he is giving you the 'no shit' look. "Oh, 'c'mon. I thought you had a sense of humour." you say with a tone still stained with sarcasm causing him to arch a brow, still not smiling.

Then he moves his arm and puts it around your shoulders, and places two fingers down your chin invading your personal space with his body, as he moves. He kisses you, somehow needy, causing you to melt as it turns deeper and sensual, starting to create tension in your lower body. You have the urge to straddle him but instead, you hold yourself back and try to keep up with his kiss. 'He is such a good kisser...' His tongue slides between your teeth and that makes you lose control, pulling him to you by the jacket and cutting the space between your bodies. At the very moment you are about to move on top of him, you hear the growl of a walker as it gets near your side of the car and you pull away quickly.

" 'C'mon baby don't run away again," he says, with a heated tone, almost sweetly, as well as a little bit frustrated. This time it's you who kisses him with your hands at the sides of his face.

"I'm not doing this here with a half-rotten undead dude trying to get into the car to eat our asses off. Simply not my kink." With that, you free yourself from his hold and make yourself comfy on the seat. "By the way, you better not look me down on me like another one of your caged birds or be sure there will never be another kiss for you from these lips. Just biting and blood," you warn him, meeting his eyes directly. To your surprise, he doesn't say a thing, instead, he chuckles and starts the car again.

When Negan pulls in at Sanctuary and you jump out of the car, you listen in to what Simon is explaining to Negan.

There's a place named Alexandria, where the people that killed the Saviours in the outpost live. Then they laugh about someone called Gregory and Negan gives orders to a group to go find those people the next day.

You take the chance to get away and head to the showers. It's not as if he will not know where you are if he wants to, you are aware of that. Even with that, you need some space from him. 'Don't let him play you around. You are stronger than that.' you think. 'It will be just for fun, no emotions involved' speaks your demon, very convincingly.

You step into the cubicle and turn on the shower, the water runs warm just a few seconds later. It falls over your body taking with it the dirt and sweat from your work with Arat. You wonder why you are letting yourself get so carried away with him. You don't even know him. Some of his character traits can be analyzed by his behaviour but you can't really know how he is without being too involved. He does not have friends, only subjects and that's exactly the way he treats them. 'How could I ever get to know who he really is?'

Negan looks like the kind of guy who knows where his place in the world is. Self-confident. But these kinds of things are usually the ones that get girls and women confused, what he does is what matters. How he treats you and the people that surround him, not what he says or what he tries to scheme. The wives' behaviour is a red flag and the smart choice would be to run away. As usual norm noone is ever an exception to the rule if they do it to another person they will do it to you, no exceptions.

Most people who need to exercise control above everyone around them are usually abusers at one level or another. You understand that Negan uses power to control people and also violence to punish those who don't follow the rules. It's an acceptable measure in extreme times like this but still, unacceptable if he overpowers his wives to make them do what he wants. Instead of running like your instinct and knowledge tell you, you choose to stay, thinking that it is too early to judge.

You come out of the shower all built up in your decision, then get dried and dress in the same clothes you wore the first day you came here. Clothes aren't so difficult to scavenge but someone's bothered to wash them and leave them folded over your bed. Thing that you appreciate since you've been in this placeset is, without any doubt, it's very comfortable. You finally put on your new boots. When you go out, there's no one in front of the bathroom but still you walk to your room stealthily. You come across Sherry who seems to go around just as careful as you do. For good or bad, you think maybe that's a sign from the cosmos to ask her some things.

"Sherry, can I talk to you?" she gives you a suspicious look, as if she thinks you're untrustworthy. "Please," you put your hands together, pleading.

"Sure, follow me," she says and, with an unsure look in her eyes, leads you to some back stairs that don't seem very busy. "Go ahead."

"It's about Negan. I need to know how he is." First, she seems troubled, then she looks around worriedly. "It's just that I need to know what happens when there's no one around," she seems confused at first but then her eyes turn a little more soft and you read sadness in them. Suddenly you feel disappointed about Negan as if you expected something better. "I mean, how is he with you when there's no one around or when there's just the wives with him?" you clarify, in case she's taken the question as you lusting over her husband.

"He doesn't hit us if that's what you're asking," she says, leaning on the wall behind her but looking at the ceiling. "But he has terrible ways to make you do what he wants," you look at her horrified and your stomach curls. "Well, I don't mean in a sexual way... He's against rape as you might know already and he gives us protection. He's a gentleman in that way but we're with him because that's all we could do or we had no other option." She explains to you her story, when her sister Tina, said she would think about Negan's marriage proposal. Her and her husband, Dwight, tried to escape, but Tina had died and they had no choice but to return, she had to marry Negan to save Dwight's life.

"So you two... Shit... That sucks..." you mutter. She just gives you a nod and you don't want to bring her down with memories.

"One way or another, he always gets what he wants. If you give it to him it'll make your life easier, believe me." She then explains to you about the other wives.

You are furious and want to face him, even though you know it wouldn't be a smart move. 'How can he be such a bastard to make people abdicate their will like that. He's a fucking dictator. I already knew that but he's definitely not a clean-handed one...' He has a full army with him so it wouldn't be very smart to threaten him physically to leave you alone. You are not getting out of this place, now you know for sure. It would be smart to do your best with the situation.

"Ok, thank you for your time." you say, softly.

"I'm sorry if I broke your fairy tale," she says genuinely, making you think that she thought you might be falling in love with Negan. 'If they think that, maybe Negan does too,' you think. 'That could be an advantage.' You don't say anything to her to make her think otherwise, instead you part, walking back to the corridor. Before the door to the backstairs closes behind, you hear the sound of a lighter.

You take your time, caressing the walls with the tip of your fingers. When you enter your room it catches you off guard that Negan's there, sitting on your bed with his left ankle on top of his right thigh and dropping the weight of his torso on his arms, tilted backwards. Lucille's resting on his lap.

"What are you doing here?" you ask him, in an annoyed tone sounding a little bit more pert than you meant to. "It's wrong to invade other people's privacy, you know?"

"The last time I checked, this was my fucking building and the questions were asked by me. Have we changed the roles? Because fuck, I had no fucking clue." he says narrowing his eyes as a way to intimidate you but when he sees that you don't change your expression, he looks at you like: 'What's wrong with you?'. Maybe he's being genuinely himself but he definitely hits a nerve. 'I can't just act like I'm dumb and let him get away with everything.'

"I'll just tell you this once: I'm not below you, more than an employee for its boss. And with this, I mean that I respect you and you respect me. Understood?" you say without any kind of fear, before he opens his mouth.

"What a nerve! How dare you," he replies, with a rough chuckle. It seems to you as if you have pointed out something obvious to him. You expected another kind of reaction but for some reason, he hasn't considered your claim a problem. Maybe it's because you are alone. You get that's your only advantage over all these people. "As I tried to make you understand, I have my tactics to make people do what I want but my only intention with that is to create a chain and order. Not to abuse my position of power."

'Liar.'

"When people follow the rules everything is fine, they produce and receive points for it but I don't intend to dominate what they do with the rest of their free time in certain terms. The same goes for you. There's also the fact, that I have a fucking soft spottingle for you, I think I've been pretty clear on that. But you are not bound to anything, sweetheart. Everyone has a choice, even if they take dumb ones."

'Do we? Do you even know how untrue that is?' That's just a bunch of lies but he really seems to believe his words so much, if you didn't know any better, you would believe him. It pisses you off.

"Till when?" you ask, frowning. You are so furious that you let your tongue loose. If he wants you around, he's gonna get what that means. "Until you get fed up and decide that there is something you can hurt me with to convince me?"

Sherry told you that's how he got three of the wives and you're definitely not accepting that. "I don't have a family, so you have nothing to grab me by the balls with. For now. Should I keep an eye on not making friends, so I don't make them a target of your anger when I don't do what you want?"

"Watch that tone," he warns, suddenly serious and sitting rigid on the bed, staring at you with a 'Be careful.' written in his eyes.

"What if I don't Negan, you gonna kill me?" you say expressionless, letting your hunger for balance and justice get the best of you. "Come on, do it, who the hell cares? Show me what you got."

He looks at you, furious, and stands closing the distance between you but you notice he leaves Lucille on the bed. He approaches you quickly and without warning, as he raises you by the thighs, kissing you. His lips own yours hungrily and makes way for his tongue to invade your mouth while backing you against the wall. His taste raises your skin in goosebumps and suddenly you forget that you're angry. His mouth descends to your neck and you lose the north. You feel that pressure coming down your stomach to the innermost part of your being but it is his hands moving towards your rear that shoot something inside your head and there's no turning back.

You slide your right hand behind his neck from inside his jacket, while your left-hand goes down between the two of you searching for the end of his white shirt. You slip your hand underneath and find yourself in direct contact with his skin. His toned torso tightens and relaxes with the movements of his breathing, his heated skin feels so smooth under your fingers.

You feel him hardening like a rock right against your centre, making you lose the relaxed rhythm of your breathing when he breaks the last of the distance between your bodies. You gently bite his lower lip, pulling it towards your mouth and intensifying the kiss. You feel like a drug addict about to receive a dose of your favourite high, except that this time it's superior quality.

You drag your nails gently over his abdomen, wishing to leave a mark on his skin as your hand travels lower to the button of his pants, while your lips stay moulded to his. You begin to introduce the tips of your fingers into the waistband of his underpants.

"You see I wasn't kidding, huh?" he says confidently, half-laughing in your mouth but making space between you so you can manoeuvre.

"Shut up..." you reply, stopping your hand from going further. You move your hands against his jaw as your lips explore his, parted, tongue sneaking inside his mouth to caress his with the tip, an invitation to dance. His tongue responds, twirling around yours, dominating the movements. He can't avoid grunting, as your hips push against him in pleasure.

He whisks you over to the bed, discarding Lucille out of the way but leaving her carefully standing against the bedside table. Then he liyes you down, like a fragile piece of crystal, appreciating the lines that form your body, focusing on the ones in his direct line of sight, the way your top hugs the sensual curve of your breasts. As his eyes grow with lust, his head is working on what he wants to do to you while he takes off his jacket and places it on the armchair in front of the TV unit.

As he walks back to you he stops for a second staring at the image of you leaning on your elbows watching his every move, studying the frame of his body, the straight, secure, yet relaxed, posture of his back. The way his white t-shirt hugs the width of his shoulders and gets a little bit loose at the end, insinuating an easily accommodating hips size, as tall and broad as he is. When your eyes set on his bulge his smile widens proudly, but your eyes soon move to his feet as he kicks his boots off, triggering you to do the same, eyes still fixed on each other.

"Wait." you ask, before getting out of bed, as he curiously watches your every move. You press the button on the door knob locking it with a click and turn on the music player sitting on top of a bookshelf next to it. It's loud enough to cover up the sounds Negan has been inflicting on you but not so loud to bother anyone.

"Come down to the black sea swimming with me ah-ooh uuh." you sing with it before you turn around walking back to him, circling him as you wrap your arms around his back and hug him from behind, kissing his back before gently grabbing his hand to leading him to your bed.

Your synchronized movements escalate from the foot of the bed to the pillows, with you moving backwards as he crawls with you until he's towering over you. He fits himself between your legs, pulling your hips towards him while claiming your neck. You gasp when you feel one of his masculine hands climb up your side to get under your shirt, raising up goosebumps in its wake. At this point, you know this is going to be worth your while.

'Negan's hot like the damn sun.'

Something visceral inside of you takes over your conscience and you practically wrestle him under you, flipping him over using your hips and legs. You yank off his white tee, frustrated by it obstructing your vision and toss it aside. Finally able to see the full glory of his chest and abdomen, covered in a decent amount of unruly dark hair until it trails down, hiding underneath his pants. The perfect amount on the perfect body.

'Shaved six-pack youngsters are overrated.' your mind defines.

Your red top slides up, slowly, as your hips roll over his hardness to the rhythm of the music. Making it all feel more like a strip tease. A little groan escapes his throat.

Your mouth attacks his neck, nipping and sucking hoping to leave purple love bites but you don't remain there before moving down his chest and stomach trailing soft and poisonous kisses full of desire. That is until your chin meets the edge of his trousers, you lift up to observe him; arms crossed behind his head letting you do as you please while enjoying the view.

Your fingers trace the form of his member, caged inside those tight black pants and his breath halts. Your hips settle over his just to see him react, as you move them teasingly whilst slowly unbuttoning and unzipping his pants. His hands grip your waist tightly before you stop moving them, then one hand moves to undo you too as the other keeps you firmly in place.

"In case you change your mind and go running, this is the moment to stop it. Please, don't play with me," he says and you feel a sense of wariness and frustration in his tone, disguised in sarcasm. He wants you so bad he's letting his guard down just long enough for you to hear that out.

'I'm far away from running, big bad wolf...'

Then he raises his torso and your noses rub against each other. "Oh! Turns out you can ask for things nicely..." you fake surprise. "Will it turn out that you are indeed a charmer, after all..." you say, your nose nudging his again before your lips meet his. Tenderly you bite on the lower with a slight smile, making him grunt a little.

'Fuck. Shit!'. You squeeze your eyes shut. 'This bastard is gonna make you fall for him!'

"Everything ok, babe?" he asks, worrying creasing his forehead.

Just nodding before going straight back to kissing him again, you hope that whatever is starting to grow inside of you for him will die as soon as you see his bad side for yourself. Deciding it's too late to worry, knowing that the fear transpiring all over Sanctuary isn't due to a one time incident but too many.

Getting to your feet at the edge of the bed and pulling his trousers off his long legs. 'Hell if I don't love his body and his height already...' your inner demon sounds, much to your dismay. As you toss them aside too in a mess on the floor, Negan's already sitting up at the edge of the bed, kissing your belly as he slides the fake leather covering your legs down to your ankles. He bites your hip bone making you shiver as you resume your seat on his lap, feeling his warm and full form now that there are not many clothes left between you.

"Do you have condoms?" you ask him, knowing this is the right moment to ask before you get too into it. Knowing if the answer is no you're just not going to do it.

'I should have asked beforehand...'

"Of course, darling." He reaches down to his pants and takes out a couple of condoms from the pocket.

'Great! He actually came here with the intention to get in your pants.' Somehow, valuing the situation, the idea makes you frown. 'Well, who's to blame you for giving into your urges at the end of the world. You could die tomorrow. Although with Negan around it doesn't seem likely.'

"Well, honey, as you may know I'm married to a lot of women." he responds to the expression on your face. "Not all married man take fucking care of this stuff as they should. But if you're gonna cheat, do it safely at least, don't bring a fucking disease to your partner or get your lover pregnant. You don't need to be too smart for the 'better be safe than sorry' shit." you understand his point and find it something to agree with. You rub him with your lower body parts to get him back in the game, although his erection hasn't ceased.

'Hell does he ever relax?'. You notice his body is slightly tense too, you put pressure on his shoulders as you keep grinding.

It has its effect, and you are soon under him as he takes your panties off. 'I guess we are done talking.' you think, right before he lures a moan out of you by attacking your neck, going down your body mercilessly. His teeth meet parts of your body that make your lower body tense, as if he knew where to bite and kiss. He's exploring every inch, getting to discover those little secrets that will make you ready for him.

Your arousal is quick, after who knows how much time since you've been touched like this but at this point you are raging and needy. He must have read it on your face because he rids himself of his boxers as he meets your eyes, pulling the condom open and down his length in no time.

'He knows what he's doing, damn if he ain't hot as hell!"

His tip meets your entrance without wavering from your gaze, attentive to any sign of discomfort,as he slides inside slowly. You notice you didn't quite size him up correctly before unless it's the sheer lack of sex thwhat has made you unprepared. The pressure of your walls trapping him inch by inch of his advance. Both of you seem to have forgotten how to breathe when his length is fully inside of you but he doesn't move, to your surprise. He seems perplexed somehow, with something clearly on his mind.

"Did I leave you drained of energy already?" you say in a mocking-like tone. "You should do more cardio Negan or you will die here-"

He cuts off your prattle with a quick push in before pulling out just as fast, with a smirk of victory. His face relaxes as he moves slowly, studying yours.

'He's trying to see if he's hitting the spot.' your mind babbles.He moves his hips with experience, aiming at the right angle, while grabbing your left thigh to hold you in place, making you feel like you are in heaven. His mouth meets your neck when you let your head fall backwards as your back arches. "Negan..." you whisper.

"M'Right here, babe..." he whispers against your neck. Your only answer are quiet moans. You can feel goosebumps under your fingertips along his back. His mouth meets yours between airy breaths as his pace accelerates, feeling his thickness hit just the right way.

"Oh my God..." your breath hitches as his precise movements build up pressure in your stomach, your impending orgasm looming.

"I know, darlin'..." he mutters in your ear as his pace increases, speeding up your climax and putting you over your limit, until you explode a shaking, quivering mess underneath him. Faster than you ever have and more desperate, as your nails trail sharp lines down his back making him growl deep.

Taglist @stxrg4zer

I hope you enjoyed this. Let me know your thoughts and reblog to let it spread 😊 See you soon! ~

#negan x you #negan x reader #twd negan #negan fanfiction #the walking dead negan #negan x oc #negan smut #the walking dead fanfiction

13 notes · View notes

the-bad-batch-baroness · 1 year

Text

Infectious

TBB & Fem!Reader

Chapter 2: Trouble Fitting In

Pairings: TBB & Fem!Reader

Characters: Kix, Hunter, Echo, Crosshair, Wrecker, Tech, Tungst (OC), Brett (OC), Drip (OC), Gloss (OC), Rift (OC)

Tags & Warnings: platonic, BAMF fem!reader, enemies to friends, lots of sass, humor, tension, action, angst, hurt/comfort, canon typical violence, mild suggestive themes, explicit medical descriptions (ie: blood, bodily fluids, needles, procedures, etc), tbb whump (later chapters)

Word Count: 5.8k

Author's Notes: This chapter was so much fun to write! The gif will make sense after you read the chapter, but I couldn't help myself. No TBB whump yet, still working on the setup. I believe in strong setups that make the exciting part more rewarding. Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list. As always, please enjoy 💚

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3

As you walk with your new squad through the halls of Kamino, you can’t help but shift your eyes to each member as they chat amongst themselves. You follow behind them, listening intently, and waiting for a moment to remind them that you’re still here, but the moment doesn’t come. The five clone brothers talk to each other as if you don’t exist, and you’re not quite sure if they are doing it on purpose or if they really are that absentminded about your presence.

You imagine this treatment is to be expected, at least a little bit. Clones are very familial and protective of each other, so attempting to fit in with an established squad is not the easiest of tasks. However, you want to show Kix that you can assimilate yourself into the most closed-off clone squadron the GAR has ever created and survive. You decide to take a less aggressive approach and see what comes of it. It isn’t the best plan, but you have to start somewhere.

When you reach their barracks, and Hunter opens the door, your nose is immediately assaulted by a pungent odor that churns your stomach. You try not to take any deep breaths as you peer into the dimly lit room. You wiggle your nose as you adjust to the smell and scan around the room. There are four bunks, each one distinguished out of the others with personal belongings and, well, junk. There’s also a hammock in the corner, and a couch across from the center table.

The group of clones walk over to their respective bunks and put their things down. You’re not sure how Wrecker sleeps in his bunk, considering the amount of garbage on it, or Tech for that matter, with all the wires and things poking out. Hunter and Crosshair’s bunks are the cleanest out the bunch, and closer to standard regulation. Which means the hammock must belong to Echo. You add notes to your squad mate's mental profiles as you continue to observe them.

However, standing alone at the entrance of their barracks and simply watching has now become very awkward for you. They all seem to have routines and you are most definitely not a part of any of them, or even have one of your own to start doing. You’re used to the barracks pods for the cadets, not a full barracks room. You wait patiently for your new commanding officer to tell you what to do or where to put your stuff, but he seems to be concerned with other things.

Unable to stand the blatant disregard of your presence any longer, you clear your throat in an attempt to gain some attention. No one seems to hear or notice you, so you try again with the same lackluster results. To these clones, ignorance must be bliss. You sigh and decide to take the direct approach as you walk over to Hunter, who is sitting on his bunk with his data-pad in hand.

“Sergeant,” you say.

“Medic,” Hunter says without looking up from what he is doing.

“Where should I put my personal belongings?” you ask.

“Wherever you want,” he answers with a dismissive wave of his fingers. He puts the data-pad down, bends over to pick up a box next to his bunk, and gets up to walk towards the table in the middle of the room.

“Understood, sir,” you say while following him to the table.

He sits down on the bench seat and places the box on the table. He pulls out his DC-17 blaster, opens the cleaning kit, and takes the contents out. “Something else?” he asks as he begins to disassemble his blaster.

You fidget with your fingers before asking the other important question. “Where is my bunk?”

Hunter puts his blaster down, turns his head to look at you, and raises an eyebrow. “Who said you were sleeping here?”

“Well, I thought–”

“You thought, now did you?” Hunter chides. “Well, think again, kid.”

“But, I’m part of the squad!” you argue. Yes, the place smells horrible, but these men are supposed to be your new family. You can’t sleep somewhere else. That doesn’t make any sense. That’s not how squad assimilation works.

“You might be part of this squad,” Hunter begins, “but that doesn’t mean I have to like you, trust you, or want you here.”

“Give her a break, Hunter,” Echo says as he walks over and sits down at the table.

Hunter rolls his eyes. “Must you always have an opinion?”

Echo rolls his eyes in return. “Must you always be so dogmatic?” Echo turns to look at you. “You can take the couch.”

“You can’t just give her the couch!” Hunter exclaims.

“Any objections?” Echo asks as he looks around the room at the three other clones.

“It will not be an issue with me,” Tech says with a shrug of his shoulders.

“As long as I get to sit on it during the day-cycle, I don’t care,” Wrecker hurls back loudly from his bunk.

“Not my problem,” Crosshair sneers as he narrows his eyes and stares into your soul.

You shiver at his cold glare, unsure of what you did to make him dislike you this much.

Echo gives Hunter an, I told you so, side eye and Hunter rolls his eyes again while crossing his arms in defeat. Echo gestures for you to make yourself comfortable on the couch, and you give him a small nod and smile as thanks. After listening to them argue over you, twice now, you’re not really sure who’s actually in charge of this squad, Hunter or Echo. However, Echo seems to be the most reasonable of the bunch and your biggest supporter, if you can even call it support.

“Get yourself settled,” Echo says. “Then we’ll hit the mess hall for some lunch.”

You do as he says and walk over to the couch. You place your duffel down next to it and sit down on one of the cushions, bouncing on it a little to feel out your new bunk. It’s a little softer than the barracks pods, which is nice, but there are no sheets, pillows, or even a blanket to be found. You look around the room to see if you can find any spares, but it’s hard to locate anything with all of the junk lying around. You surmise that you’ll have to find a pillow elsewhere.

You open your duffle and pull out a few personal items, but then quickly realize you have nowhere to put them. You look at what’s around the room and figure one of the crates can make a decent table to put your stuff on. You get up and find the closest one, pressing your full weight against it to push it over to the couch. As you begin to move the crate across the floor, you can feel their gazes shift to you. It’s like they’re waiting for you to trip or ask for help, but you don’t.

The crate proves heavier than you expect, and you wonder what is possibly inside of it. Their stares become unnerving as you push the crate into place next to the couch and you let out a small grunt with the last push. You pant softly at the exertion, but recover in a few seconds. Now that you have a place to put your things, you kneel on the ground and continue to pull your belongings out of your duffel, including a photo of you and your parents from when you were younger.

“Who’s that?” Wrecker asks as he bends over to look at the photo.

You startle at his sudden presence looming over you, but regain your composure and turn your head to look up at him. “My parents,” you say with a fond smile.

“Woah,” Wrecker says with awe. “You have parents?”

You chuckle at the innocent question. Clones are definitely fascinating people to be around. Grown in test tubes, they are motherless ten year olds stuffed into adult bodies with built-in programming to be fearless and loyal soldiers. Of course he wants to know about your parents, because he’s never had any of his own.

You sigh. “I had parents.”

“What do you mean, had?” Wrecker asks.

“They’re dead,” you say flatly while pulling more things out of your duffle.

“Oh,” Wrecker says. He straightens up and rubs the back of his neck. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s no big deal,” you reassure him. “They’ve been dead for a while now. That’s why I came all the way out here.” You trail the rest of your words into a soft whisper. “To find a new family.”

“Well, we don’t have parents either,” Wrecker says in an attempt to make you feel better. He grins. “You can be part of our family if you want.”

You half-smile at his kind words, but he seems to be the only one who shares the sentiment. The resounding silence and side glances after Wrecker’s remark tells you everything you need to know about your place in the squad. You sigh. You really did want a family, one that you could call your own, but it seems too far out of reach now. Hunter made it clear he’s going to keep you at arms length, and you understand the resistance, to a point, but their shunning still hurts.

“Thanks, Wrecker,” you say. “That’s a very nice offer.”

As Wrecker moves back towards his bunk, you finish pulling the rest of your things out of your duffle and place them all neatly on the crate. Happy with your little nook of a home, you plop yourself onto the couch, lean your head back, and take a deep breath. The smell of the barracks seems to be growing on you, albeit not by choice, but at least it doesn’t make you want to vomit anymore. You close your eyes and wonder if things will get better or worse from here on out.

After a couple hours of awkward silence in the barracks, it’s time for lunch. You trail behind your squad down the corridors and toward the mess hall in silence, again. They converse amongst themselves just like before, and never give you a moment to say anything or interject your own thoughts. They aren’t dull conversations either, so you listen with interest at their choice of words and the way they speak to each other, continuing to add to your mental profiles.

You sit down at the mess hall table with your squad and the silence is even worse. No talking, only eating. You pick at your food while remembering back to when you were a kid and ate meals with your parents at the table. The three of you always talked about how your days went and anything exciting that happened. You remember there was always laughter at the table. Laughter and love. Even the clone cadets had more conversations with you than these guys.

“Hey, Civvy!” Tungst calls as he approaches your table with his food tray.

Speaking of cadets. You groan at the sound of your awful name, but are happy to see a friendly face.

“You found out my name, huh?” you ask while twirling your fork around in boredom.

“News travels fast around here,” Tungst says as he sits down next to you, ignoring your squad mates who are also sitting at the table.

“Where’s the rest of the squad?” you ask as you peer around your shoulders.

“They’re coming,” Tungst says. He takes a bite. “They had a few things to finish up in the barracks.”

“Care to introduce the reg?” Hunter asks as he points with his utensil at the cadet who is clearly ignoring them. Tungst narrows his eyes at the sergeant and Hunter stares back, displaying equal animosity.

“Oh, yeah,” you feel embarrassed that you forgot to introduce him to your new squad. “Clone Force 99, meet Tungst and Tungst, meet Clone Force 99. He’s one of my friends from training.”

“Pleasure,” Tungst answers curtly.

“Is this the clone who’s anatomy you know so well?” Crosshair asks with a devious smirk from across the table.

“Cross,” Echo whispers in warning. “Don’t.”

You cough and almost choke on your food as your face turns red with mortification. Not this again. Why is this even a topic of discussion? You swear that Crosshair’s only goal in life is to make you uncomfortable. His words make you angry, however, you breathe and calm yourself. It’s not worth getting upset about and you figure that as long as you don’t feed into his antics, then the buck will stop there. You have to be the bigger person when it comes to Crosshair.

Tungst slams his fist on the table. “Care to explain what you mean by that?”

You flinch at the sudden loud noise. Oh no. He took the bait. You know this is not going to end well.

“Perhaps, I’m mistaken,” Crosshair mocks. “Maybe it was the commander instead. That’s how she became so popular, isn’t it?”

“I highly doubt the commander would trade preferential treatment for sexual favors,” Tech explains.

You can’t believe he said that. Why did he say it so loudly? You look around to see if anyone heard the scandalous remarks, but you don’t see anyone staring. However, you feel like everyone is now silently judging you. You place your head in your hands to hide your embarrassment, even though you have nothing to be embarrassed about. There were no 'favors' exchanged for your success. Everything you earned was won through blood, sweat, and tears.

Tungst shoots up from the bench seat in anger. “Don’t talk about her like that!”

“Tungst,” you gently tug on his arm, trying to get him to calm down before things escalate. “It’s okay, really. You don’t–”

“No, it’s not okay,” Tungst says as he looks down at your red face. “They’re making you sound like some sort of tramp.”

"If the stamp fits," Crosshair smirks.

Tungst scrunches his nose with indignation. “You son of a–”

“No one’s saying anything like that,” Hunter interjects as he takes a sip of his drink. “It’s just some friendly banter.”

“You rejects, have a funny way of being friendly,” Tungst scoffs.

“Are you picking a fight, reg?” Crosshair challenges as he flicks his toothpick away and stands up.

Wrecker pops up from his food tray. “Someone say fight?”

��Maybe, I am,” Tungst says. He leans over the table to get closer to Crosshair’s face. “If you don’t leave her alone, then maybe we should fight.”

“She belongs to us now,” Crosshair says with a cynical smile, reveling in the rise he’s getting out of the cadet. “We can do whatever we want with her.”

“That’s it!” Tungst yells, then jumps over the table to dive towards Crosshair.

The two clones tussle on the ground, trading blows at each other's faces and kicking each other’s torsos. A few seconds later, you see the other cadets from Tungst’s squad arrive and engage in fisticuffs with the other members of Clone Force 99. Echo, the last one still sitting at the table, rubs his fingers against his forehead and sighs before getting up and punching some poor cadet’s lights out. Soon, the entire mess hall of clones joins in on the violent festivities.

You wince as you watch the unruly sight before you, and you try to move out of the way of the flailing body parts. You are all for aggression when needed, but this massive brawl is just idiotic. You remember the stories you were told about Clone Force 99, and you know them all to be true now. You contemplate whether to join the fight or to stop it, but you’re torn between your cadet friends and your new squad. Whose side do you pick? Do you even need to choose a side?

Unfortunately, the decision is made for you when a softball sized fist collides with the right side of your face. You let out a loud feminine cry at the hit and the commotion comes to a dead stop. Everyone looks at you while you hold the side of your face as it contorts in pain. You don’t know who threw the punch, and you don’t care. You spit some blood onto the floor and lift your face up, staring dizzily at the clones in front of you until you find the one you’re looking for.

“Permission to leave, sir,” you stammer out before spitting more blood onto the floor.

Hunter looks at you with his first glimpse of real emotion and nods. “Permission granted.”

As you turn to exit the mess hall, Tungst runs after you. “Civvy, wait!”

You turn around and put up your hand to stop him. “Please, just leave me alone right now.”

“I’m sorry,” he says with slumped shoulders.

You take a deep breath and leave to return to the barracks to take care of your injury. You stop by one of the refreshers on the way back to check yourself in the mirror. Looking around, there doesn't seem to be anyone else in it. You push your stomach against the sink and lean towards the mirror, opening your mouth to get a better look. There’s not much you can see through all the blood, so you painfully swish some water around and spit it into the sink to try and clear it out.

“Want some help with that?” Kix asks while leaning against the side wall, medpack in hand.

You startle for a second, and whip your head around, but then relax when you realize it's just Kix.

“I heard about some friendly fire in the mess hall," Kix says apologetically. "You okay?"

You turn back towards the mirror and sigh. “Yeah.”

Your voice sounds like you have cotton balls stuffed in your cheeks and Kix chuckles at it. You lift yourself up to sit onto the edge of the sink counter to give him a good angle to examine your mouth. He places the medpack on the counter beside you, puts on a pair of sterile gloves, and pulls out a small light. You open your mouth as wide as you can and tilt your head side-to-side to give him the room he needs to look around.

“That’s a really nice laceration you’ve got on the inside of your cheek,” he notes as he inspects the inside of your mouth. “Must've bit it pretty hard.” He pokes around a little more and you wince as he touches it. “But, no broken or loose teeth, and no jaw dislocation, so that’s good.”

You let out a sigh of relief and adjust your jaw as Kix removes his hand from your mouth. While he throws his gloves away and opens the medpack to grab the bacta spray, you lean back against the mirror, close your eyes, and let a few tears escape. When he faces you again, to apply the bacta spray, the tears don’t go unnoticed. He puts the spray down and turns away to lean back against the counter, still looking at you through the mirror from across the refresher.

“Those aren’t tears of pain, are they?” he asks.

You shake your head and more tears come out as you lift your hands to cover your face in shame. You're a Combat Medic of the GAR. You’re a medic trained for combat. You’re not allowed to cry. You’re not allowed to show emotion. You’re not allowed to be fragile. But, the best day of your life is suddenly turning into the worst day of your life, and you’re struggling to process it. You want a repeat, a do-over, anything to keep from being in the present, so you cry.

“It’s okay,” Kix soothes, still facing away from you. “You can let it all out here with me.”

“Why?” you ask through muddled tears. “Why did you assign me to them? They want nothing to do with me!”

Kix sighs and turns back around to look you in the eyes. “You're my best medic, you know that right?”

You nod your head in agreement.

“And I need my best medic for my toughest cases, don’t I?” Kix continues.

You nod your head in agreement again.

“Well, Clone Force 99 is that toughest case," Kix explains. "I gave you this assignment because I know you’re the only one who can handle it. You’re the only one who can handle them. You’re tough, clone tough. You can play their game and win.”

You move your puffy eyes to look at him and mumble out a small, “Really?” You wonder if this is what Kix was trying to tell you after graduation, before Hunter interrupted your conversation.

“Yes, really,” Kix chuckles at your garbled speech. “I know it won’t be easy, but I need you to be exactly who you are, no more and no less. Let who you are change them, not the other way around.”

You sniffle one more time, wipe your tears away, and nod your head. Maybe this is what you need to hear. That this assignment isn’t an accident, a punishment, or a cruel joke. Maybe, just maybe, Kix is right and you are what Clone Force 99 needs. You’re a tough combat medic that takes no lip from anyone and will sass your way into their squad and force them to listen to you. You reinvigorate yourself with your thoughts and nod at Kix, this time with more sincerity.

“Good,” Kix says. “Now, let's get an icepack on that cheek of yours before you grow a second face.”

You giggle at the joke, but the stretching of your jaw muscles gives you the worst pain imaginable.

“Oops,” Kix says. “Sorry. Bacta spray first, then ice pack.”

After you finish up with Kix in the refresher, you continue your original journey to Clone Force 99’s barracks. You hold the ice pack to your cheek and ponder your conversation with Kix. He really is the best commander you could ask for and he always gives the best advice. You now feel a sense of pride in the fact that Kix entrusted you with his most difficult case. Going forward, you are determined not to let anything your new squad says or does deter you from your mission.

You make your way into the barracks and sit down on your couch-bunk. You pull out your data-pad with one hand, while holding the ice pack with the other. Being an official Combat Medic means you also have access to your squad's medical files. You think now, while you’re alone, is the best time to go through their files and learn about their individual medical needs. Clone Force 99 is full of enhanced experimental clones, so you need to pay extra attention.

You pull up Hunter’s file first and start reading.

CT-9901 Alias: Hunter - Experimental Unit Clone Force 99

Developmental Progression: Normal rate of change

Embryonic attachment: Unremarkable

Infancy stage markers: Normal

Early Adolescence stage markers: Normal

Puberty stage markers: Abnormal

Late Adolescence stage markers: Abnormal

Adult stage markers: Normal

Developmental Notes: Tendency to be overstimulated

Genetic Mutation Progression: Normal rate of change

Heightened Smell: Positive

Heightened Taste: Positive

Heightened Hearing: Positive

Heightened Touch: Positive

Heightened Awareness: Positive

Accelerated Regeneration: Negative

Genetic Notes: Ability to sense electromagnetic fields was unexpected

Medical Notice:

Prone to migraines

Prone to sinus infections

Prone to ear infections

Prone to mood swings

“Ah, so he’s not moody on purpose,” you nod as you connect a few dots and then move onto Tech’s file.

CT-9902 Alias: Tech - Experimental Unit Clone Force 99

Developmental Progression: Normal rate of change

Embryonic attachment: Unremarkable

Infancy stage markers: Normal

Early-adolescence stage markers: Abnormal

Puberty stage markers: Normal

Late-adolescence stage markers: Normal

Adult stage markers: Abnormal

Developmental Notes: Tendency for isolation and delayed speech capabilities

Genetic Mutation Progression: Normal rate of change

Increased neural density: Positive

Increased neurotransmitters: Positive

Increased neural plasticity: Positive

Increased frontal lobe activity: Positive

Increased dexterity: Positive

Increased linguistics: Negative

Genetic Notes: Loss of normal vision fields was unexpected

Medical Notice:

Prone to insomnia

Prone to tension headaches

Prone to cataracts

Prone to macular degeneration

“Lovely,” you add the information to your mental notebook before moving onto Wrecker’s file.

CT-9903 Alias: Wrecker - Experimental Unit Clone Force 99

Developmental Progression: Abnormal rate of change

Embryonic attachment: Unremarkable

Infancy stage markers: Abnormal

Early-adolescence stage markers: Abnormal

Puberty stage markers: Normal

Late-adolescence stage markers: Abnormal

Adult stage markers: Abnormal

Developmental Notes: Tendency to be clingy

Genetic Mutation Progression: Normal rate of change

Increased muscle density: Positive

Increased muscle elasticity: Positive

Increased ligaments and tendons: Positive

Increased body mass: Positive

Increased oxygen retention: Positive

Decreased sustenance requirement: Negative

Genetic Notes: Lack of mental capacity was unexpected

Medical Notices:

Prone to joint pain

Prone to muscle spasms

Prone to arthritis

Prone to high blood pressure

“Ouch, that doesn’t sound pleasant,” you wince and swipe to the next chart.

CT-9904 Alias: Crosshair - Experimental Unit Clone Force 99

Developmental Progression: Normal rate of change

Embryonic attachment: Remarkable

Infancy stage markers: Normal

Early-adolescence stage markers: Normal

Puberty stage markers: Normal

Late-adolescence stage markers: Abnormal

Adult stage markers: Abnormal

Developmental Notes: Tendency for aggression

Genetic Mutation Progression: Normal rate of change

Increased concentration: Positive

Increased pupillary response: Positive

Increased hand/eye coordination: Positive

Increased retinal capacities: Positive

Increased agility: Positive

Increased night vision: Positive

Genetic Notes: Lack of body mass was unexpected

Medical Notices:

Prone to photo-sensitivity

Prone to epilepsy

Prone to dry eye

Prone to cluster headaches

“No wonder he hates everyone,” you note, then swipe to the last member.

CT-1409 Alias: Echo - Domino Squad

Developmental Progression: Normal rate of change

Embryonic attachment: Unremarkable

Infancy stage markers: Normal

Early-adolescence stage markers: Normal

Puberty stage markers: Normal

Late-adolescence stage markers: Normal

Adult stage markers: Normal

Developmental Notes: Tendency for independency

Genetic Mutations: None

*File Update - Post Skako Minor Assessment*

Cybernetic neural capacity upgrades

Cybernetic computational upgrades

Cybernetic communication upgrades

Cybernetic bilateral lower leg upgrades

Cybernetic right lower arm upgrades

Medical Notices:

Prone to joint degeneration

Prone to nerve pain

Prone to depression

Prone to night terrors

“I wouldn’t exactly call those upgrades,” you sigh, then put the data-pad down and lay back on the couch.

So this is your team. A bunch of experimental clones, plus a half-cyborg, with a plethora of medical concerns that may or may not present in the field. Although, you do feel a little closer to them now that you’ve seen their medical history and a part of you feels sorry for them. They didn’t ask to be made, let alone with these enhanced mutations.

You adjust the ice pack on your face as it gets less frozen and wipe away the condensation that drips down your cheek. You look at the chronometer and realize it’s been over two hours since the incident in the mess hall. You wonder where your squad is. Did they go elsewhere and leave you behind? Probably. No matter though. You have a renewed perspective and you’ll do your job whether they like you or not. You’ll be the biggest pain in their backside if you have to.

No sooner do you finish your last thought, does the door to the barracks open. You turn your head to look and see who it is and not surprisingly it’s your squad. They each disperse to their bunks and grab their packs. Curious about their movements, you sit up on the couch and crisscross your legs, still holding the ice pack in place.

“What’s going on?” you ask. Your voice is still garbled from the swelling.

Hunter connects his pack onto his backplate and glances over his shoulder. “We’ve got a new mission and we’re heading out.”

Your heart races at the prospect of your first mission. You knew this day would come, but you didn’t think it would be this soon. You’ve barely had any time to adjust to your new squad or go through any practice simulations. They don’t know you and you don’t know them. Your anxiety increases, but quickly dissipates when your training kicks in. This is what you are trained for, and you’re going to do it. You put the ice pack down and grab your pack and helmet to join them.

As you follow them out, Hunter turns around and stops you. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“On the mission, sir,” you say. You let Kix’s words echo in your mind and refuse to back down.

“No, you’re not,” Hunter says.

“With all due respect, sir, I am,” you say.

Hunter huffs. “And why should I let you come?”

“Because, I’m the best, sir,” you say as you straighten your shoulders.

“That remains to be seen,” Hunter retorts.

“You can’t see if I’m left behind, now can you, sir?” you argue while placing your hands on your hips.

Echo tries to hide a snort. “She has you there.”

“Glad to hear you’re volunteering,” Hunter says sarcastically. “You’re in charge of the kid.”

“What?” Echo questions with disgust. “Why me? I’m not babysitting her.”

“I’ve told you before,” you huff. “I can take care of myself!”

“Shut it, shiny,” Hunter exclaims.

You cross your arms and scrunch your nose.

“I’ve got my own weight to pull!” Echo continues to argue.

Hunter pats Echo’s shoulder and smiles smugly. “And now you can pull hers, too,” he says while pointing at you. “Since you obviously have enough time to make jokes.”

“But–"

“Just make sure she doesn’t die,” Hunter says with a wave of his hand as he starts walking away.

Echo looks at you and sighs. “Come on.”

You quickly follow Echo, your new chaperone, and head off with the rest of the group towards the landing platform. The walk is once again, silent. Maybe the third time's the charm and after this mission they’ll start including you in their conversations. However, you don’t hold your breath that it will be the case. You’ll be lucky to get any action worth talking about, considering that Clone Force 99 has never had a downed man on the field in their tenure as a squad.

On your way to the platform, you are intercepted by Tungst and his squad mates. You brace for the worst and hope for the best, since you’re not sure what the outcome of the mess hall fight was. You’re still a little mad at him for causing such a big scene, but you don’t blame him for your injury. You may never find out who threw the punch, but it doesn’t matter. You’re just happy the five of them are still alive after the altercation with one of the deadliest forces in the GAR.

“I heard you were shipping out on your first mission,” Tungst says as he approaches, his words sounding a little awkward.

It makes sense. The last time you both spoke was after the punch, so you haven’t had a moment to debrief. You stop to speak with them and the rest of your squad surprisingly stops with you.

“Yeah,” you answer with a small smile. “I guess I am.”

“We’re gonna to miss you,” Brett says while patting your shoulder.

Hunter rolls his eyes.

You chuckle. “I’m going to miss you too.”

“You’re going to do great out there,” Gloss smiles.

Drip grabs your shoulders and pulls your face really close to his and speaks with a straight face. “Don’t die.”

You start laughing and push him backwards. “I won’t.”

“You better not,” Rift jests as he points towards Clone Force 99. “Or we’ll have to beat up your squad again.”

Wrecker laughs. “You lost the first time!”

Tungst clears his throat to change the subject. “We just wanted to see you off and remind you that we’ll always be here for you if you need us.”

You smile at the sweet gesture and wrap your arms around Tungst to wish him goodbye. “Thank you for everything.”

Crosshair leans towards Echo and whispers. “You can’t tell me they haven't kriffed yet.”

Echo groans and whispers back. “Please keep your comments to yourself.”

“Can we go now?” Hunter asks impatiently.

Realizing that you are holding up the rest of your squad, you let go of Tungst and follow after them. You turn around and wave goodbye to your cadet friends one last time and they wave back. You are going to miss them. They are the closest thing you have to a family and you’re leaving them. It feels bittersweet, since they may not be there when you come back. They will eventually graduate from cadet training, get their own assignments, and leave you behind.

You let the intrusive thoughts dissipate from your mind and refocus on your current mission. You smile as you walk aboard the Marauder. The only ship you’ve ever been on was the transport that brought you to Kamino one cycle ago. So, this is the first time being on an Omnicron-class attack shuttle. You read up on it during your training, but to see it in real life is amazing. You swivel your head as you look around the ship and take in all the different elements.

“Strap in for take-off,” Tech says as he sits in the pilot seat and gets the ship ready.

Echo sits in the co-pilot chair and also works to get you off the ground. Hunter sits in one of the open swivel chairs and Crosshair grabs the other. Wrecker sets himself up by the gunner’s nest and gives you a reassuring smile. Looking around for a place to sit, you take your go-pack off and strap yourself into one of the jump seats across from the bunk rack. You’re a little nervous, but feel more excited to be out on your first mission.

You feel the rumble of the engines and slight lift as the ship takes off from the platform. This is it. You’re finally going on a mission. You’re finally going to save lives, just like you posthumously promised your parents. You lean your head back against the cold wall of the ship and take a deep breath. You’re ready. You’re ready for anything your squad or the battlefield can throw at you. You’re going to show them that you are the best and you’re going to make Kix proud.

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3

Masterlist

A03

Tag List: @nahoney22 @bethtizda @skippyhopperwisdom @drafthorsemath

Join my taglist HERE

Tip me a tea on Ko-fi HERE

117 notes · View notes