#he's only a top in the sense of Reg ordering him to

[wingsmadeforflying]

Regulus would Pavlov James, end of question. I think James would do it back, but just a slip of Reg's collar exposing his shoulder, or craning his neck to the side to expose his neck? Jams is already at his beck and call, flipping his switch.

James would probably be certain phrases and holding Reg's chin. Reg being Pavloved into either melting or pushing full brat, depending on his mood.

[veryinnovative]

hi ino!!! requesting a drabble for 73 & jegulus, sfw :)

hi angel <3 for this prompt i was thinking spiderman james...i even have the au plotted out in my head......high school sweethearts...then james gets bit...he is ur friendly neighborhood spideyman....and im thinking that at the end of high school they have a breakup bc james struggles maintaining both his responsibility as spiderman but also his rship with regulus and he misses out on prom and totally leaves reg waiting or some shit idk something so teenage melodrama that results in their breakup and idk one or two years later in college regulus returns to their city against o continue his studies or restart studying something else and idk . kinda left it off there. i just think it would be a fun idea. anyways this little drabble is before the breakup etc etc

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” Regulus gasps into his half-parted mouth, the words swallowed by the hot, feverish chase of James’ kiss-bruised lips. If there’s any set of words he doesn’t long to hear in that specific order ever again, they’re certainly those. Nonetheless uttered by him.

“I think,” he murmurs against the corner of Regulus’ mouth, planting a trail of feather-light kisses down his chin, “We should definitely keep doing it.”

Then, two hands come to rest on his shoulder, gently pushing him away and instantly James mourns the loss of his body tightly pressed against his. “James,” Regulus starts, tone almost admonishing, “you got hit by a car pushing a little kid out of the way. The last thing you need is me half-way across your lap.”

“You’re right. You should sit on top of it entirely.”

“No—”

But those words too bleed into a broken gasp when James lifts Regulus by his hips onto his thighs with little effort.

“James!” Regulus warns, his face contorted in a mixture of shock, worry, and a mother hen’s disapproval. “That’s—You’re hurt—When did you get this strong?”

“You wound me.” The words drawl out into an exaggerated whine, which promptly stops when he receives a reprimanding look for real. “Come on, Regulus, have I not always been strong?”

Half a lie. He’s always been strong, but the new, sudden displays of strength where he manhandles his boyfriend without a hitch despite having very much been driven clean into the pavement by a speeding car is to be attributed to nothing less than a convenient spider’s bite. One which he, most probably, should get checked out after having postponed the examination by one week already.

“Again, you were in an accident just a couple of hours ago.”

“So noble of me,” James sighs. “Don’t you like your men brave? And you came rushing to me immediately, you’re such a good boyfriend. The best.”

The praise dusts Regulus’ cheekbones the usual pink but does little to dissolve the little crease marring the skin between his eyebrows. “It was reckless,” he starts, ignoring the way James plants a kiss on each of his fingers. “How you only have a couple of bruises is beyond me. ”

Gently nibbling his thumb, James lets go to speak. “I heard that kisses are a great way to get rid of the pain.

“What’s—What’s wrong with you?” Regulus nearly squawks. “We are in a hospital bed and you—”

“And I?”

“You’re acting strange.”

And maybe he is. He can’t help it. The constant thrum in his ribcage, the staccato of thrill to which his pulse beats, this constant, gnawing feeling deep behind his bruised ribcage—to move, to do, so attuned with himself and everyone and everything—He just feel so—“Alive.”

“Alive?” Regulus blinks, confused.

“Yeah—I just—It’s the adrenaline, I guess?” At that, James sinks further into the pillows. “We all react differently.”

Again, another half-lie. He tries not to feel guilty about it. Fortunately for him, Regulus seems like he buys it.

“That makes sense.”

James hums, his wandering hands returning to their rightful places on Regulus’ hips. He doesn’t hear anyone near his room, nor do footsteps sound in close proximity to it. The nurse is engaged in fresh-hot gossip with one of the janitors and there’s no sign of the doctor returning anytime soon. “So, kisses?”

Regulus offers him a theatrical roll of his eyes before diving in to indulge him.

[moosemonstrous]

Ghost Rider Pacific Rim AU - (un)common affliction

Eric Brooks loves his goddamn job. He sometimes has to repeat it to himself in the mornings, an important affirmation before spending sixteen hours in the company of idiots, children and idiot children. It’s still true. He takes a bunch of self-important assholes who think they are the second coming and turns them into self-aware assholes ready to cooperate in a fight bigger than themselves.

He’s given up on the asshole part. There’s only so much he can do in a day.

Most of the kids joining in recruitment drives dream of becoming a ranger. It’s not impossible – the Summers brothers came through via the academy – but it’s never as quick as they’d like, and there is a lot more going into getting the job than anyone realises. It’s one thing to have the perfect sim scores. They need to pass every single medical, convince three separate shrinks they won’t turn a jaeger’s ranged weapons the wrong way, and – most infuriatingly – get the attention of someone on the strike team. This is why the majority of successful rangers comes from an army background – they’re just a little more ahead in the networking game. A little less likely to get weird about orders.

And then there’s Robbie fucking Reyes, who insists on doing everything ass-backwards and somehow coming out on top. If Eric starts greying before the end of the year, he’s putting it squarely on this boy’s shoulders.

“I know you cheated,” he says. If Reyes tenses any further, he’ll crack his jaw. “Did Cho give you the scenario in advance?”

He wouldn’t put it past Amadeus and his obsession with Hell Charger. Get attention of someone on the strike team: check. Reyes closes his eyes for a moment, like his first instinct is to tell Eric to go fuck himself and it’s a struggle to contain it.

“No, sir,” he grits out. “Just got lucky.”

Eric’s office is intentionally a blank space. Nothing to stare at, nothing to fiddle with. It’s a great way to ensure neither Stark nor Cho, or almost anyone, can stand to be inside of it for longer than a minute. Reyes, though, has the rare ability to glare at an empty wall like a seasoned soldier. It’s unnerving, if only because that broken eye of his still reflects light wrong.

Still. There are other cadets who spend their nights boning up on the regs to get an edge. He can wave away him knowing the techniques, or the frankly inhuman speed of his training progress. He can't ignore blatant corner-cutting.

“Lucky?” he repeats, incredulous. The cheek on this kid. “You lucked into knowing the Submariner Protocol?”

“It just made sense—”

“Reyes, you’ve been here for two weeks. Captain-goddamn-Danvers didn’t pass this sim on her first try. The point of this exercise is that you need experience to pass it. So, I will ask you again. Who gave you the solution?”

Reyes opens his mouth, then closes it again. Not a snitch – good. Lack of answers – frustrating as hell. Knowing that it’s another point in ‘fast-track Reyes to full ranger training’ column – ugh. Nobody wants that. Even Reyes doesn’t seem to want that, for all that he’s been hitting every other box on the checklist like he has the key to it.

Eric tries not to get too attached to his students. Most of them end up in ground cover, and it’s a good day if half of them make it back after a demon encounter. Even the smaller beasts coming out of the ocean and from the inside of their full-sized brethren have been stronger and faster with every attack, like whatever makes them finally splurged on the good feed. Learning his cadets’ hopes and dreams before he sends them to their deaths is how one day Eric will look at the wrong end of a gun. It’s hard to avoid the details with Reyes, though, what with most of his colleagues’ lives suddenly revolving around his weird brain.

He isn’t prone to conspiracy theories, but either Reyes is playing the longest, most self-sacrificial game in this war, or something really has it out for him. It’s like he was custom-made to get everyone’s reluctant sympathy. The disabled brother, the whole parents situation, the destroyed hometown – you'd have to be dead inside not to feel at least a little bit bad for him. Even Ivanov seems to be affected, and the Colonel’s whole career has been built on being a stone-cold bastard. In an ideal world, they should just give the boy some low-risk job away from the politics and leave him in peace. In this world, however, Wakanda is at the brink of an economic war with South Africa and PPDC’s plan to replace titanium cores in their jaegers with vibranium has to be postponed, again. Which means they’re just a little too slow to react, just a little too breakable. It means they need to send at least three at every new demon coming up. It means they need to hold back one, in case, and to help with the beasties to minimise ground cover losses. It means more wear and tear on the rangers.

The Charger was built for speed, to be the point. The nerd squad can bend over backwards promising they don’t intend to re-commission it, but it’s a foregone conclusion for the brass. If Reyes can pilot it, he will. There are too many lives at stake.

“Get out of here,” he sighs. Reyes blinks, his bad eye just a little more dilated than the good one. “You heard me. I’m watching you, though.”

He doesn’t expect a response and doesn’t get one beyond the door shutting with a little more force than necessary. Reyes is unfailingly polite to the admins, but turns into a feral cat the second he’s dealing with anyone with a shred of authority over him. It's not an uncommon affliction.

Eric picks up his comm link. “Barton, come in.”

“Receiving.”

“Can you find out who told Reyes about the Submariner Protocol?”

“...Ooo-kay. Any leads?”

“Start with Cho.”

He can appreciate a no-snitching rule, but sometimes Amadeus needs a good talking-to and God knows Stark never delivers.

[oppipopi]

the last post on the topic "I didn't like episode 30"

The trope of the found family in the case of Purple and King does not work

King and Purple really needed more pleasant time together (ESPECIALLY CONSIDERING THAT THEIR ENTIRE PAST PASTIME, WHICH WAS SHOWN TO US, SEEMED TO ME QUITE AGGRESSIVE AND UNPLEASANT) in order to call them family

I would accept the fact that the King just came to his senses at THAT VERY moment, because Purple reminded him about that situation, but without a subsequent move with the acquired family, BECAUSE IT LOOKS SO IMPLAUSIBLE.

From episode 29, it is perfectly clear that Purple is looking for a way to take the top, gain power, become strong, as Reg wanted to see him, because everything that his father drove into his head is not to be a slob and take his own by force. This striving for the ideals of the father in episode 29 confirms the symbolic ascent up to his figure, steps on the heads literally. In episode 29, his arc logically ended (not without the help of Green) with acceptance and awareness of the fact that he did not need Reg, he did not need to try to please his expectations, and Green told him in plain text that Purple had ALREADY found a family that would accept him – a color quintet. Purple really has more reasons and prerequisites to stay with the color quintet than with the King. And then they show us in episode 30 how the metaphorical Reg, replaced by the King, runs to hug Purple, and IT'S JUST SUR – PURPLE PASSED HIS ARCH OF SEPARATION FROM HIS FATHER'S EXPECTATIONS IN THE LAST EPISODE. HE NO LONGER NEEDS THE APPROVAL OF A FATHER FIGURE. But here we are, he is drawn to the King simply because…. Because what? Why does he choose the King as a father figure, knowing him only nothing?

In fact, Alan poked us in the face with the fact that Purple and King had NOTHING behind the scenes. We have already seen literally ALL of their interaction. Was it close enough to even call it friendship? No. If you look at the time frame, it looks like they've known each other for two weeks, because the parkour plan WAS ALREADY READY when Purple came to the King. In fact, all that the King demanded from Purple was that he insinuate himself into the confidence of the color quintet, steal a block of creativity from them, and in return he offered to share power over the world, which was originally manipulation, obviously, because the King always wanted to destroy this very world. In the episode with "fast forward time", which is shown on behalf of King, THERE is NOT EVEN PURPLE. He literally saw nothing and no one but the target.

They communicated little and exclusively in an official business format: Purple himself put the King in a higher position, he himself knelt and handed over the crown. He accepted this role with joy, and it looks very unhealthy, without a single hint of friendship, there is simply nowhere for this to come from. Their relationship wasn't close enough for them to also know each other's backstories! (the fact that the King patted him on the head a couple of times doesn't mean much at all, he literally used Purple from the very beginning consciously)

And then what was Purple trying to achieve in episode 30, with his motivation of 29 (not trying to be perfect for someone, but trying to be himself and look for himself)? HE DOESN'T EVEN KNOW WHY THE KING RAN TO HUG HIM. HE DOESN'T EVEN KNOW THAT THE KING'S CHILD HAS DIED. And the King, in turn, cannot know that the Purple one was abandoned by his father (can this be considered a kidnapping?). He just felt sorry for the poor boy just because what? Why does the King see the figure of his child in Purple? BECAUSE THEY'RE THE SAME AGE AND BOTH DON'T KNOW HOW TO FIGHT?

I will even accept the fact that the King saw a son in Purple, but accept that Purple saw a father in the King and stayed with him? After he has passed his arch, after he has come to a clear conclusion that he does not need his father who abandoned him and his approval? No, I'm sorry, it's just throwing away everything Purple went through FOR THE SAKE OF THE KING AND HIS HAPPY ENDING.

by the way, this is an evil post, so I accept only evil opinions about the episode in the comments /nbr/j

[vro0m]

well now that it does seems like red bull is losing bits of its armor. not saying they wouldn’t still win the championship but last year they looked bulletproof. not just the car but the team. the best pit stops, never made strategy blunders not that i can remember anyways but everything was always on point right from fp1 and they had newey. rarely did max not top all free practice sessions. but this year mclaren’s just the overall best team. as the teams continue to converge and redbull maybe having to make compromises like forfeiting bumpy tracks to find a way to chase performance (cuz of the cost cap/wind tunnel), and for a team that’s dependent on only him, max leaving doesn’t quite seem that unrealistic.

if max is not in that team they aren’t winning the championship. perez has only been on the podium what?? three times?? we don’t know how much merc has gained but they leapfrogged astons in just how many races? if they have a good development this year, then being at the front by next year is not that unfathomable. whether or not he’s in red bull next year there’s no guarantee he’ll win 2025. merc is still an unknown for 2025 but he’ll be in a works team for 2026. a team mocked for being engine merchants vs another unknown in ford? 

long rant to say beginning of the season i’d have said no way but atm if it happens i wouldn’t be so quick to call it a dumb move. unless ofcourse he goes and flops in 25 and 26 and then i was never here

I disagree with you.

The gap to Redbull is closing for sure but they are still by far the most dominant team at the moment. McLaren is gaining fast but they still have a lot of work to do to be the best overall team imo. If they were the best overall team they'd be winning most weekends. They are not.

Max leaving is still unrealistic to me for these reasons. It's too early. Redbull is not gonna stay dominant forever, of course, and when they fall down the order a bit then it'll be up in the air but as long as they are winning – and they are quite a bit ahead in the standings – he has no reasons to leave. I don't see what Perez' performance has to do with Max staying or not.

The Merc "leap frogging" Aston is not surprising to me and not necessarily a sign that they're getting closer to the top teams. Aston Martin has not been good at development these past few years. They start somewhat strong and then they fall back. Merc had an entirely new car at the beginning of the year as well so it's not surprising they started a bit lower. But they're not really closer to Redbull, or McLaren. Definitely not fighting them significantly on track.

For me as it stands it's still a stupid move. He has no reasons to change teams for next year. He has no reasons to change teams in 2026 before we know how everyone is doing with the new regs. And then, maybe, depending on how things pan out, it might start to make sense.

Neither of us know the future and we might be surprised but Max leaving Redbull at the end of this year would make me question reality way, way, way more than Lewis leaving for Ferrari.

[casp1an-sea]

Digits “CT-7048”

(oh so this one let’s me put pictures side by side? It’s only a glitch on rose? Well that’s dumb 😒)

(Still kinda like the og drawing better 😥)

BACK TO CLONE MASTER POST

Birth Year: 32 BBY

Age at beginning: like 20ish (enhanced again)

Species: Clone (Reg)

Gender: Male, He/him

Height: 6’0”

Occupation: Technician

—————————————————————————

Personality: Digits is very analytical and blunt. He’s extremely serious and never really relaxes. He sees his job as strictly a Job and does not try to bond with the squad so the squad will force things on him like giving him a name or painting his armor. He got the name digits because of his insistance to use his CT number. He acts like he hates it but he doesn’t. He rarely ever smiles but he secretly cares a lot and just doesn’t want to get attached incase someone doesn’t make it. 

Appearance: Digits has a slightly grown out version of the regulation haircut and a small scar on his top lip. He kept his Armor the regulation design however the rest of his squad painted it for him in the middle of the night. One shoulder pad is painted as well as one arm band on the opposite arm. His name is written on the left side of the chest and there is a large X going across his chest plate. The right leg is painted and the left leg has his CT number on the side. His helmet has a painted antenna, a diagonal line across, half of the face painted from the diagonal line, and two stripes on the right side. His Kamas will later be painted with his CT-number on the left and a mural of his squad hand painted by Kev on the right. (Ik this is the most detailed but it was the only design I actually drew 😂)

Tada

Weapons: Typical clone weapons idk I’m lazy

—————————————————————————

Backstory: Digits was part of a pretty laxed squad; he was the only one who was really keeping the group together but they didn’t take him seriously and didn’t get along. On their first mission they messed up REALLY bad. More than half the squad died and those who survived were reprimanded and sent back to basic training. Digits was put with Kev’s group. Kev is the only one who knows why. Digit’s squad have specifically been assigned to Zac and Sunni sense the two padwans have no master.

At some point during the war Digit’s chip malfunctions similar to Tup and it results in him murdering Rose. Not knowing it was the chip that caused it he was branded as a traitor and arrested. While in prison he mysteriously disappeared and did not resurface again until after Order 66 where he was working for the empire. —————————————————————————

Art by @hermitmoss

—————————————————————————

@xen-blank, @thehollowwriter, @l7k-a, @ferris-the-wheel, @keii-starz

@krenenbaker @elenauaurs @the-banana-0verlord @edith-is-a-cat @dove-da-birb

@theosb0rnway @fizzydreamz @ravenwing0110

@diabollicallyangelic @xentari94 @tomatette

@dragonflies-draw-flame @sunshinechildskywalker

[bisexualbumblebee-writes]

He's With Me- Regulus Black x OC

Regulus Black x Cecelia Potter

Description: Regulus is invited to an Order of the Phoenix meeting with Cecelia, and there are some very strong reactions to it. 

Word Count: 2.2k

It seemed like a fairly normal morning. Cecelia, as usual, woke up first to make breakfast for her and Regulus. While she cooked, Regulus got ready for work, like normal. Afterwards he walked into the kitchen and they had breakfast together as per usual. Then while Regulus cleaned the kitchen while Cecelia got ready for the day, like they usually did. Then, something unusual happened. 

Cecelia was finishing the top button of her shirt as she walked into the kitchen. Regulus was sitting at the island still nursing on his cup of coffee, then grinned when she walked into view. She offered him a sweet smile then poured herself a cup (since they usually had some time before they went to work) just before a tapping was heard on the window. Both of them faced it and saw an owl. 

“Paper’s here,” Cecelia informed him, despite the fact that they both knew what it was, as she opened the window. The owl sat on the windowsill with one foot while his other stretched out, holding out the newspaper for her. Cecelia thought nothing of it, but it was as she grabbed it that an envelope fell out of it. She furrowed her brows confusedly and leaned down to get it, reading the names written on it. 

To Regulus Black and Cecelia Potter

Cecelia didn’t immediately recognize the handwriting, which confused her. She stood up once again, glancing at Regulus, and wasn’t surprised to see her staring at her curiously. After setting the newspaper down on the counter she grabbed a spare piece of sausage and thanked the owl. It hooted appreciatively then flew off. 

“What is it, Cece?” Regulus questioned confusedly as she looked back at the envelope. 

“I guess we’ll find out,” she responded in the same tone. She carefully tore open the envelope and pulled out a piece of parchment.

The headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix may be found at number twelve, 

Grimmauld Place, London

Cecelia couldn’t speak for a few minutes. It had been so long since she had heard the term “Order of the Phoenix.” What was it? twelve, thirteen years? Now it was back. She wished she could say she was surprised, but then she’d be lying. With Harry exclaiming that Lord Voldemort had been resurrected just a few months ago, she knew that everyone was on edge. It only made sense, but either way she had a bad feeling about this. If Dumbledore wanted to reform the Order then it all but confirmed what Harry had said. Lord Voldemort was alive. 

“Cecelia?” Regulus’ voice pulled her out of her thoughts and she whipped around to face him. The action surprised him, but he thought better than to mention that as he stood. 

“What is it?” He asked gently as he walked over to her. “Is something wrong?” The girl opened her mouth to respond, yet no words managed to escape. After a moment of staring at each other, she finally found her voice. 

“Do you remember that group I told you about? A few weeks after the Dark Lord vanished?” 

It didn’t take long to remind Regulus of the Order. Cecelia figured that since the Dark Lord had perished and Harry was safe, it would be okay to tell him everything. Of course she hadn’t anticipated the Dark Lord resurfacing and the Order of the Phoenix reforming, but there wasn’t much she could do now. Once she finished speaking, she leaned against the counter. 

“Are you going to come with me?” 

“You’re actually going?” The boy asked, sounding shocked. Cecelia stared at him in bewilderment. 

“Of course I am! Reg, this is a matter of my nephew’s safety. I could never forgive myself if I didn’t go,” she responded, taking his hand in hers. “I know that this will be a lot to process, but the letter was addressed to both of us. Maybe you don’t know Harry, but I do, and I want to be able to protect him. I understand if you say no, but I would suggest giving it some thought before giving your answer.” Regulus sighed softly, mulling over his options. He didn’t get far before she continued. 

“How about I offer you a deal?” She suggested, which obviously piqued his interest. 

“A deal?” Cecelia nodded. 

“Come with me to the meeting tonight. If you find that it’s too overwhelming or just something you don’t think you can be a part of, then I obliviate you. You won’t have to come back, you won’t remember anything, and we can all move on.” Her offer was rather tempting, not to mention logical to Regulus. He didn’t have to think about it for long before finally nodding. 

“Okay, I’ll go.” 

That evening at precisely six o’clock, Regulus and Cecelia stood outside of the former’s childhood home. Cecelia could tell that her husband was anxious by the way he continually fiddled with his wand or adjusting his jacket. His fidgeting quickly came to a halt when her hand brushed against his, then she took his hand in hers. When he looked at her, she offered him a soothing smile. 

“Remember my love, if you don’t want anything to do with this you won’t have to after this. Just say the word and I’ll fix it.” Regulus exhaled deeply, then nodded. With one last nod to him, she looked at the door in front of them, attempting to remember what the password was. 

After a minute she tapped the door once with her wand. Several metallic clicks were heard then the door suddenly opened a crack. It was Cecelia’s turn to take a deep breath before she stepped inside and closed the door after her husband got in. 

“Who goes there?” A loud booming voice rang out through the hallway that the couple stood in upon walking in. Both of them recognized it immediately, and Cecelia rolled her eyes. 

“Sirius, shut up. It’s me,” she responded flatly as she began leading Regulus towards what she remembered was the dining room. A laugh was heard from the dining room, one she realized was someone else’s, that made her raise her eyebrows. 

“Moony?” She questioned with a smile, finally appearing in the doorway. The two men were already standing, and once their eyes landed on the girl they grinned and walked over to give her a hug. 

“Been a little while, ay Doe-Eyes? You never want to visit anymore,” Sirius teased once they pulled away, which made her giggle. 

“It’s only been a whole summer since I've seen you Padfoot, don’t get ahead of yourself,” she responded in the same tone, earning a laugh from the men. She allowed herself to look around at the other occupants of the dining room. Dumbledore was there, which obviously didn’t surprise her. Also sitting there were Violetta Lupin, Gaia Devereaux, Mundungus Fletcher, Hagrid, Professor McGonagall, Mad-Eye Moody, Severus Snape (much to her dismay), Kingsley Shacklebolt, Nymphadora Tonks, Arthur and Molly Weasley as well as the two older Weasley siblings plus their wives/girlfriends. 

“Are we all here then?” Dumbledore questioned, looking around. It was only then that she realized that Regulus hadn’t walked in behind her, and she glanced at the doorway confusedly. After excusing herself from her old friends she walked back into the dark hallway. 

“Regulus, come on,” she called softly. “The meeting is about to start.” The man looked hesitant yet again, which made her sigh. 

“We had a deal,” she reminded him gently yet firmly. “It’ll get better as time goes on, but you have to start somewhere. You’re on our side right?” 

“Of course I am.”

“Good, then let’s go.” She gave him no time to back out before grabbing his hand and practically dragging him into the dining room. 

“Now we are,” she concluded, which made everyone look at her once again. Dumbledore obviously wasn’t surprised to see him there, but everyone else was. Their faces were a mix of shock, anger, and offense at the mere sight of Regulus, but it was his older brother that had spoken up first. 

“What is he doing here?” He asked tensely, not taking his eyes off the boy. 

“He’s with me,” Cecelia answered simply before taking a seat at the end of the table with her husband closest to the door on the other side of her (should he want an easy escape). 

“Why would you-” Sirius was cut off by Remus’ hand coming down to rest on his shoulder. The man looked at him disdainfully, but Remus merely shot him a ‘behave’ look before facing Cecelia once more. 

“What he means to ask is why you’ve brought him,” he explained, much calmer than the man beside him. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Cecelia questioned defensively, which prompted Regulus to take her hand in order to remind her to remain calm. 

“Well,” Violetta said cautiously in her usual soft tone. “You can’t really blame us for being a bit… well, apprehensive given his history with You-Know-Who…” Regulus looked down at that, looking like he felt immense shame for his past. Cecelia’s jaw clenched for a moment before she forced herself to relax and took a deep breath before facing the others. 

“We are well aware of Regulus’ past,” she started. “But, he has since renounced his allegiance just like Severus Snape had.” 

“Words mean nothing,” Sirius spat, which made his younger brother flinch. “How do we know that he won’t just attend the next meeting with Voldemort and tell him everything that we talked about here?” 

“Because I’ve defied Voldemort before,” Regulus suddenly spoke up, which surprised everyone but Cecelia and Dumbledore. The former nodded in agreement then looked at her brother-in-law. 

“I was there when he did it,” she added, then looked at Regulus. She wordlessly shot him a look that said ‘tell them,’ and though he hesitated for a moment, he did as she said. 

 “Voldemort had asked me for the use of Kreacher, for something important one day. I eagerly accepted as I wanted to please my ‘master.’ But I changed my mind when I learned that Voldemort used Kreacher to test the defenses around his locket Horcrux, leaving him to die afterwards. Kreacher was able to escape using house-elf magic after I, as his master, called him, and told me what had happened. 

That was the deciding factor in my defection from the Dark Lord. So, I created a duplicate of the locket and placed a note inside for Voldemort to find, expecting him to check on the horcrux in the future, and then ordered Kreacher to take me to where the real locket was hidden. And I was just about to do that when Cecelia showed up.” 

“He begged me not to join him, but I just couldn’t do that,” the girl butted in. “I couldn’t let him die either, so I switched the potions and used the burning potion against the Inferi. It worked, thankfully, and we were able to get the locket out of the cave safely.” 

“It wasn’t safe for us to stay there,” Regulus continued. “Voldemort would have found out eventually. We needed to get out of there, leave England until things have settled a bit. But we couldn’t just disappear without anyone noticing, we needed to think of a ruse that would throw everyone off our trail. So, we came up with the idea of telling everyone that we had left to elope in Rome then headed to New Zealand to lay low until things had calmed down. While we were there, we attempted to destroy the locket by any means, but nothing worked. So, we hid it somewhere that the Dark Lord would never find it, you understand when we say that we don’t wish to disclose its location out loud,” he concluded. 

Everyone listened intently as she explained the entire situation with Salazar Slytherin’s locket. Once they had finished, everyone could only sit there in shock for a few minutes. Cecelia finally spoke up again after a short silence. 

“I wouldn’t have brought him if 1) Dumbledore hadn’t sent the letter to both of us or 2) I didn’t feel that I couldn’t trust him. I know that he is my husband so you think I’m obligated to say that, but Dumbledore trusts him enough to invite him. That counts for something, doesn’t it?” She asked hopefully, looking around at her friends. Gaia was the first one to change expressions, her shock turning into a smile. 

“Of course it does.” Almost immediately the others agreed either verbally or via nodding, and Dumbledore decided that it was time to start the meeting. 

The meeting ended soon enough, and Regulus and Cecelia immediately decided to head home since they’d had a long day. After arriving in their living room, they began getting ready for bed (since they’d already eaten a dinner that Molly had graciously made for the meeting) then climbed in beside each other. 

“So what did you think?” Cecelia asked softly as her head laid on his chest. It took a moment for Regulus to respond, but he eventually did, 

“I think it’s something that I’d like to be a part of,” he answered, taking her hand and entangling their fingers. “I’ll do whatever it takes to keep Harry safe after all that’s happened.” His words made her smile brightly and she leaned up to kiss his cheek. 

“I’m glad. Goodnight Regulus.” The boy mirrored her smile and pulled her as close as physically possible before turning off the light with his free hand. 

“Goodnight Cecelia.”

[hecatemoon87]

Hard to Get - A Reggie Kray Story

Chapter One - The Bitch of Esmeralda's Barn

Isla Reid was in trouble. She had found herself having to owe a favor to the infamous Kray Brothers. It was not a situation that she had wanted to be in, as it forced her to stay in London.

A month ago, she had been arrested for helping rob a bank. But the Kray brothers filled the right pockets and got her out before the cops realized that Ms. Reid had actually been the brains behind the orchestration of seven successful bank robberies.

The cops thought she was just a silly girl who fell into the wrong crowd, so letting her go with a few extra pounds in their pockets didn’t seem like an issue. Except, the cops just released a highly intelligent woman with a predisposition for crime into the hands of the most powerful gang in East London.

In order to keep an eye on her, Reggie had instructed Isla to attend the nightclub the Krays ran each Saturday night. Unlike the Kray’s henchmen, she didn’t need to be constantly at their side. Well, it at least started out that way. Slowly, Reggie kept asking her to show up at meetings and he asked for her input on some important decisions. Each time she had given him advice, the Krays benefited greatly.

Tonight, she was once again at the club. She wore a tight black dress and heels, her long brown hair was down and her makeup was done just lightly. She was a very beautiful woman, but she wasn't happy with her current state of affairs. A frown was on her face most of the time she was at the club. She hated being at the club, she hated being controlled. But if she didn't obey, then the Krays said they’d just tell the police they had made a mistake in letting her go.

Isla’s bright green eyes took in everything around her. The people that came to the club were an assortment of couples, singles looking for a hookup and gang members. All the conversations she overheard bored her. Most conversation revolved around gossip, money or sex. And men were constantly approaching her seeing if she’d dance with them. Rolling her eyes each time, she simply held up a hand in annoyance and glared at them.

She was quickly referred to as the Bitch of Esmeralda's Barn. In fact, men started playing a game. They would bet each other money to see if anyone would be able to break her icy exterior.

For Isla, there was only one man on her mind and it was Reggie. She hated that she was so attracted to him. But the man was fucking gorgeous and so suave, it was impossible not to lust after such a man.

Yet, she made it her mission to never allow him to know this. She didn’t want to give him anymore power over her. Now, Ronnie, she thought he was amusing. He was gruff, matter of fact and impulsive. It gave her a strange sense of schadenfreude to watch him push Reggie’s buttons. On top of that, seeing Reggie upset made her horny. So, sometimes she even instigated Ronnie to act badly.

“Oh, Ron, you know that’s a clever idea, you should just do it.” Isla would say.

“Really? Maybe I should tell Reg…”

“Why? Aren’t you in charge too?”

“Ronnie?! What the fuck?!” Reggie would shout after Ronnie completed whatever disastrous plot he had come up with.

Daydreaming about Reggie, she leaned back against the bar, her elbows resting on the edge and watched the crowd. The club was in full swing, a grandstand was set up that night, bronze trumpets played, a bass guitar strummed and the singer was a beautiful blonde woman dressed in red with a rose in her hair. People danced, drank and talked. It was very loud in the club tonight.

Albert wandered over to her, a whisky glass in his hand.

“Boss wants to see you,” he said, loudly over the sound.

Isla squinched up her face, “Why, he’s sitting just over there…he can see that I’m here.”

“Yeah, it ain’t a roll call, love. Reg needs to chat with you, so hop to sweetheart,” he growled.

She did not like Albert, he was generally all right, but he was Reggie’s goon and always obeyed him. Pushing away from the bar she walked up to Reggie’s table. As she walked over she distracted several men as she sauntered by.

“What?” she asked, placing a hand on her hip once she arrived at the Kray's table.

“Feeling sassy tonight, love?” Ronnie asked.

Ronnie’s sex puppet, Mad Teddy, was sitting by Ron’s side as usual.

“She’s always sassy, probably cause she isn’t getting any cock,” Mad Teddy chuckled.

“Fuck you, Ronnie’s bottom,” she snapped venomously.

Teddy’s face drained of color and clenched his fist. Ronnie just laughed softly. In the same manner Isla was amused by Ronnie, Ronnie was amused by her. Reggie watched Isla, his eyes drifting over her body. He took a long drag from his cigarette before speaking.

“Isla, are you free tomorrow? I got a deal I want you to be at."

Not like she had a choice in the matter. "Yes, I can be."

“Why are you letting this Scottish bitch do anything? She’s a fucking tramp,” Mad Teddy complained.

“Teddy, I’m a girl that prefers to use her head instead of her ass, unlike you, you little English whore.”

“Ronnie!” Teddy whined.

“Don’t worry about it. Issy’s got a hard on for Reg anyways, pretty sure she wants his cock,” Ronnie said, shrugging his shoulders.

She hated that name, Issy. But Ronnie always called her it. Furthermore, his little comment caught her off guard and she didn’t have a sharp retort to counter him with. And how the fuck did Ronnie know that?

“Ronnie, shut up.” Reggie said, crushing out his cigarette into a nearby ashtray.

“Walk with me, Isla.” Reggie said, standing up from the table.

He adjusted his suit jacket, buttoning up a button that had popped out. She followed him across the nightclub to the back room. He had a small office back there. In the front room, his goons smoked and played cards. They looked up, upon seeing that it was Reggie they continued their card game. He opened the second door to his office, standing aside to allow her to walk in first.

“Tomorrow, I got a big chance at getting in on some of the money being laundered out of city hall. I wanna know how much I should be asking. If I go in too high I might not get the cut, if I go too low I could make the mistake of missing out on a fair cut."

Isla chewed on her lower lip, her eyes drifted up to the side in contemplation. She did this anytime she began to think of a plan. Reggie found this to be very sexy, watching her nibble on her bottom, her pretty green eyes focused. Another thing that thoroughly turned him on was when her usually light Scottish accent flared up when she became angry, like just now with Teddy.

“Okay, I’ll do my best Boss. I was just thinking of what I could potentially compare it to,” she said.

“You don’t have to call me Boss. But I can’t lie, I do like it when you do,” he said, giving her a wink before pushing away from his desk.

She felt a tingle in her panties, she loved it when he flirted with her. But, Isla was careful never to flirt back. Instead she just smiled and waited for him to open the door for her as he always did. Reggie frowned a little, uncertain why his charm never seemed to work on Isla.

As Isla returned to her perch for the rest of that night, Reggie occasionally looked over at her. He wanted to kiss her back in the office, wanted to rip her little black dress off and give her a good pounding.

“Ron, I think you’re wrong. She isn’t interested.” Reggie said.

Ronnie looked over at his brother. “Oh, she is, mate. That girl is playin’ hard to get.”

[happytroopers]

Origin Day // platonic 501st! Reader

Tw: alcohol use

It’s my 21st birthday and I want to go clubbing with the 501st

“Wait, isn’t twenty-one like a big deal for civvies?” Fives asked, watching you wrench a bolt tighter on the sliding door of a gunship in the large hangar of the Coruscant GAR barracks. Most clone troopers genuinely didn’t understand the sensationalized idea of birthdays (or as most people in the galaxy called them: Origin Days). The closest they had was when they were let out of the growth chambers. You shrugged, giving the wrench one last pull before wiping the sweat off your forehead.

“On some planets.” You hummed, “For some species. Depends on when the government deems your species old enough to drink alcohol.”

“So you can enlist in the military, but can’t go for a drink.” Echo asked, eye brows furrowing while Fives muttered something about that being bullshit.

You gave the gunship one last appraisal before deciding you had done all you could do. If they wanted those dents out, high command would have to sanction heavy equipment. Finally, you looked back to the Arc trooper duo.

“Which is why you’ve never seen me in 79’s.”

“Civie laws make no sense.” Fives stated bluntly, kicking himself off the crate he’d be lounging on. “So are you doing anything?”

“Well, my childhood friends live on a different planet, and my academy friends are all deployed at the moment.” You voice was strained as you stretched your arms over your head, “Aside from getting those AT-RT’s back in working order? Not unless you two have any brilliant ideas.”

Over your head, the two Arc troopers shared a look. They did in fact have an idea-though ‘brilliant’ was a little bit generous.

_______

“Don’t you two have an early call time tomorrow?” You yelled over the thumping music, subconsciously tugging at your outfit (you had forgotten how exposing civvie clothes felt compared to your military uniforms).

79’s was busier than usual according to Echo who was walking in front of you to part the crowd. Fives was behind you, guiding you with a warm hand on the small of your back.

“Yeah, but you don’t.” Fives answered with a smile in his voice. In front of you Echo nodded.

“We’ll manage.” He paused, pulling you in front of him and pointing to a back corner, “Besides, I doubt it’ll be that much of a problem.”

You eyes followed his finger to find an unexpected sight. Half of the 501st was gathered around a corner booth, even Captain Rex who rarely ever ventured to the club scene.

Fives and Echo watched your expression carefully, relieved when you broke into a laugh and your hands flew to your mouth.

“It’s not much but-“ Echo started in with something cheesy, but you cut him off, taking both his and Fives hands as you pulled them towards the corner.

“It’s perfect.” You promised. And it was. For some the party had already started: Hardcase and Jesse were clutching long necked bottles while they teased Tup. Kix and Rex were chatting over swirling low ball glasses of whiskey. And to your surprise, Dogma even come, even if he was just clutching a glass of water like a life preserver.

When they finally caught sight of you, you could hear their whoops and hollers over the music.

“Hey!” “There she is!” “Wooooo, (Y/N)!”

Amongst other greetings were chorused as you were pulled into the fold. Echo passed you off to Jesse who through an arm around your shoulders, easily pulling you to his side while Hardcase clapped a hand onto your back. Tup simply offered you a kind smile. They were all laughing and it was contagious.

Rex didn’t get up, but he did raise his glass to you with a nod and a smile. Dogma, who looked like he didn’t truly want to be there, at least managed a smile, even if it was a bit forced. You appreciated his presence, nonetheless. Kix slid out of the booth, fingers dipping into a pocket on his belt and producing a medium sized, clear gel capped pill before planing it in your hand. You took it, a little hesitantly, but looked up at him in confusion.

“It’s a hydration supplement. You’re gonna wanna take that if you want to function tomorrow.” He promised with a wink, offering the untouched glass of water. You followed his instructions and then the party really started.

While Kix had been being the responsible one, Hardcase had snuck off and had returning with a tray of nine shots that glowed a not-so-subtle neon blue. Because that’s what you should do- drink things that glow.

After placing them on the table, everyone took one of the tiny glasses (or in Dogma’s case was bullied into taking one), and looked to Rex expectantly.

“Well, Captain, aren’t you going to give a toast?” Fives chided, holding his shot up. Rex rose an eye brow, but mirrored the action.

“Alright. We’re very lucky to celebrate together tonight and even luckier to call (Y/N) our friend. Let’s drink to the 501st, to the Republic, and to many more years for (Y/N).” He announced very seriously and sincerely, locking eyes with you. It was almost enough to make you misty eyed- had Hardcase not immediately yelled.

“Hell yeah, I’ll drink to that! To (Y/N)!!” He shouted, and before you could changed your mind to raised the glass to your friends and threw it back. Surprisingly, the glowing liquor was sweet, a flavor you couldn’t quite place, but it did leave a burning trail down your throat. You coughed, at first, before shivering when the alcohol settled into your belly. The boys laughed at your expression.

“Well, if you’re not gonna drink it,” Hardcase shrugged, plucking the tiny glass out of Dogma’s hand and putting it in yours, “the birthday girl should.”

It was going to be a night.

And it was.

There were a couple of shots thrust into your hands periodically through the night that sustained the bubbly warmth moving through you blood. Between the shots, Fives and Echo did a good job of convincing random soldiers to buy you drinks. There was dancing and laughter, enough to last a lifetime.

Rex was the first to leave, handing you a glass of water and reminding you to pace yourself before looking sternly at Fives and Echo, “You two makes sure she gets home safe, that’s an order.”

Dogma was next, slipping out shortly after Rex. But not before you convinced to dance with you. It was stiff and awkward, but you managed to get him to laugh before the song was up. After Hardcase loudly boo-ed him for ‘wussing’ out, he wished you a happy Origin Day and reminded you of the call time for the next day.

That was when Jesse delivered you a fruity little umbrella drink, and coincidentally that was when night became a little fuzzy.

Fives, Echo, Jesse, Hardcase, Tup, and Kix took turns dancing with you, trading you around. Jesse even scared some shiny off when they tried to ease into your dance, getting a little too handsy for his taste. At one point, Jesse and Hardcase had you hoisted onto their shoulders as Tup waited ready to catch you if they dropped you. Before you knew it, the bartender was calling last call.

Then there were flashes of the journey home. Stumbling out of 79’s with the rest of the late night crowd, not being able to flag a taxi big enough for seven, deciding to walk, getting distracted by greasy street food, tripping over your own feet bad enough that Kix had to patch up your scraped up knees, and winding up at the Clone barracks being carried on Echo’s back, fast asleep. The only thing you remembered from the barracks was passing a group of clones in black and red armor, and one of them muttering, ‘regs...’ in disdain. By the time they realized they forgot to take you home, they were too tired to remedy it.

And that’s how you woke up in Hardcase’s bunk, with the said solider crashing on top of Tup in the bunk below you. Fives and Echo were slumped against each other, sitting on the floor. Kix was the only one where he was supposed to be and he was sleeping very soundly. Jesse was nowhere to be found.

None of you made it to call on time.

[sassshime]

Pillowtalk (NSFW || Crosshair x Female!Reader)

A/N: No plot really, only tropes. it was supposed to be only fluff, but I got a little bit carried away.

——————————————————————–

Series: Star Wars: The Clone Wars / The Bad Batch

Pairing: Crosshair x Female!Reader 

Warnings: 18+ ONLY.  Skipped smut. Fluff. Teasing. Sexual content. Mention of blood.

——————————————————————–

You hadn't expected ending up in the same bed (and specifically yours) with a certain grumpy sniper. You've always assumed the squabbling and mocking each other were just playful jokes and nothing too serious. They are, but you both got into a heated argument. Somehow it ended up closing in on each other's personal space, then he had you pinned against the wall. The next thing you knew was you were both making out and dragging him to your room.

Now here you lie in the morning, in your tank top and underwear, on top of a shirtless Crosshair with his arms wrapped around you. Still asleep while you study the details of his face.

Such a handsome man even with the disheveled hair. Smiling to yourself, you notice there's one detail that stands out.

"I know you're awake, Crosshair." You lightly flick his forehead-an action you mimic that he's done to you before multiple times when you either annoy or roast him. He lazily opens his eyes to look at you and the time before closing them again.

You sigh, resting your chin on his shoulder, eyes still on him.

"Enjoying the view?" He teases. Eyes half-lidded and a small smirk rising to his face.

"No." You deadpan. He flicks your forehead. You yelp at the pain and glare at him. Your gazes meet each other. Your pout melts into a warm smile and he has himself smiling as well. A small one, but it's there.

He sits up, making you lie to his side. He reaches for a toothpick from the holder he placed on your bedside table last night. Another thing you hadn't expected from him was the aftercare. You'd assume he would head out after he had gotten what you both wanted. You were wrong.

"You know..." You trail off, your fingers tracing random patterns on his skin. He raises an eyebrow at you, waiting for you to continue. "I thought you would just dipped after last night."

"Did you want me to?"

"Yes." You stop him before he could get up. "Kidding! I meant no and thank you..." You look away from him, feeling the heat on your cheeks. "...for staying."

He cups your face, making you look at him, toothpick gone from his mouth. It's his turn to admire you with the softness in his eyes you don't often see. He leans in, kissing your forehead, then moving down to your lips. Gentle yet passionate affection in perfect tandem, growing needy as you continue. You both pull away to catch your breaths. He lies back down on his side, pulling you into his arms, face burying into your neck. Sleep about to catch the both of you as the moment passes. Before you could doze off, you take a look at the clock and realize you're going to be late for a spar with Hunter.

You should be getting ready right now and Crosshair with his daily routine in the shooting range.

"We need to go." You caress his cheek.

"I don't." You sigh at his response.

"I need to go." A hand on your arm stops you from getting out of bed. He pulls you again, strong lean arms trapping you underneath him, one hand locking your wrists together on top of your head.

"Crosshair."

"You can get out of this, can you? You would have if you wanted to." You didn't want to at first, but now you do for an entire different reason. You wipe the smugness out of him by doing so and having him underneath you, straddling him.

"You're right." You tilt your head at him, amused you've caught him off-guard. You feel his growing arousal as you press down on his crotch. You hold his wrists, stopping him from grabbing your hips. You tut at him.

"You don't have permission to touch me or to speak." He scowls, gripping the bedsheet, surprised as well by following your orders.

"I will leave you like this," You grind against his, earning a pant from him. "if you keep acting like a brat."  Your stern voice gives him goosebumps. He has seen how dominant you are in close combat even in your fights with Hunter. His thoughts are interrupted as your hands roam from his abs to his chest. You chuckle at the intensity of his eyes at you.

"Enjoying the view?" You mock him.

"No." You dig your nails lightly into his chest, not enough to draw blood, but enough to leave scratch marks. He grits his teeth, knuckles turning white from restraining himself to touch you. You tut again.

"Did I tell you to speak?"

No response. You can feel the irritation and lust from his glare.

"Well?"

Still no response. He closes his eyes.

"Speak."

"No."

"No, what?"

"No, ma'am."

"Good boy." You coo. He snaps, sitting up, holding you in place. He pulls your hair back, exposing your neck. He stops himself before he could ruin that pretty skin of yours with his mouth. A grave mistake, he realizes this as he sees a glint of mischief in your eyes.

You hum in thought, glancing at the clock. It's going to be a long morning. Whatever excuse you'll give to Hunter can be dealt with later.

------

You're definitely late. The sparring session is already past schedule because a certain someone had to get back at you in the refresher. You're just about ready to head out of your room with the sniper, but he stops you, holding your arm. It seems he wants to say something from how his face is all scrunched up like a kinrath pup. He opens his mouth, but at lost for words, he closes them. You blush at the realization.

"Do you want to do this again sometime soon?" You speak his thoughts for him.

"If... you're up for it." You beam at his answer. He looks away and tries to stop himself from smiling. He lets go, but he halts you again when you're near the door.

"You forgot something." You're about to ask what. He already answers you by crashing his lips onto yours. He breaks away when he has you wanting for more, leaving you dazed until he opens the door, revealing a surprised Hunter about to knock. Crosshair only gives a glance at his brother as he walks away, leaving you and a confused Hunter alone.

You compose yourself and walk out of your room, closing the door behind, facing the sergeant.

"Hunter. Apologies for not being able to attend our sparring today. I was... preoccupied."

"Uh-huh. Preoccupied."

-----

Bonus epilogue(?):

Later that night in the Bad Batch's room.

773 Firepuncher lies disassembled on the table. Crosshair cleans his rifle, part by part. Tech notices something, particularly on the marksman's neck, that has been bothering him since morning. Something dark can be seen peeking out of his collar. Tech moves closer and inspects, adjusting his goggles.

"There seems to be discoloration on your skin." Hunter's ears perk up. Crosshair has his hand instinctively cover the bruise.

"Maybe he finally beat Doc's insults and she decided to deck him!" Wrecker chimes in, laughing. Crosshair rolls his eyes and tries to ignore them as he resumes his task at hand. They continue to blabber their theories.

"Doc wouldn’t hit Crosshair that would inflict harm especially on the neck. Normally, I'd say the regs would, but this does look different from a normal bruise." Tech pulls Crosshair's collar to inspect further. It only reveals more hickeys. He slaps Tech's hand away. 

"Well, and there are more of them. You should have those checked with Doc." Crosshair smirks at the idea.

Wrecker clicks things into place. Wrecker slaps Crosshair's shoulder stronger than intended, causing the sniper to bend forward and drop a weapon part he's holding on the table.

"I didn't know you had it in you!" Crosshair shoots daggers at the chuckling larger man. "He's not going to need to have those checked, Tech! In fact, Doc will probably give him more!"

"That doesn't make sense."  Tech states a matter-of-factly.

"What do you mean ‘it doesn't make sense’? Doc gave those hickeys and I'm sure of it."

"That's absurd, Wrecker. I highly doubt she'd-" The two keep arguing. From across them, Hunter sighs and shakes his head. Crosshair shares the same sentiment as he continues his business. Maybe a late night “checkup” wouldn’t be a bad idea.

[wanderinginksplot]

Hi! Coul you do a Hunter x Jedi FemReader fluff. Myybe They are reunited after a long time and they hang out in secret.

Hey! It took a few days, but here’s where this prompt took me:

Hunter + Jedi F!Reader + Fluff

“Steady!”

“Watch the far side - it’s tipping!”

“We need another few troopers over here to help balance it!”

“It’s too heavy!”

“Stop, men,” you ordered, your calm voice cutting through the clamor with ease. “Let me get it.”

Lifting the heavy crate with the Force was simple, one of the first things you had learned to do in the Temple. From there, transporting it to the correct section of the hangar wasn’t any more difficult, and you accomplished the task with ease.

“Still showing off, General?” a rough voice asked from just behind your ear.

You turned around, already smiling at the familiar face. “Sergeant Hunter,” you greeted. “I had no idea you were on-planet.”

He shrugged, the movement flowing with grace that would have made even a Jedi jealous. “We picked up a new member for the Batch. We needed to have him cleared on Coruscant before we could risk taking him into action.”

“And?” you asked, already thinking about how you could help. Force-healing wasn’t your strong suit, but you could pull a few strings to get the right padawan to the GAR headquarters. If Hunter needed something, you would do everything in your power to get it for him. He had saved your life often enough to deserve that dedication from you.

“And he’ll be fine,” Hunter reassured you. Gesturing to the flurry of men working to unload your gunships - each one painted with a flattering caricature of your profile with a lightsaber held out in front of you - he asked, “How did the mission go?”

You shrugged. “It went as well as can be expected, I suppose.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means- Well, it…” you sighed. “This war never seems to have a true victory. There are always losses, and those sacrifices don’t always make sense given what little is accomplished in return.”

Hunter raised an eyebrow. “That’s what we’re made for. Sacrificing.”

You hated hearing that, no matter how often it had been repeated by the Kaminoans, the GAR, and the Jedi Council. These men weren’t a product and their lives weren’t something they should expect to lose simply because they had been created rather than born. They had names and personalities, painted their armor with patterns in your favorite color, and some troopers even asked for permission to use your handprint in their designs. Hunter’s casual defense of what you saw as the fatal flaw of the Jedi Order made your stomach lurch and your spirits drop.

“So they keep telling me,” you agreed, mustering a smile for Hunter. “It was a pleasure seeing you, Sergeant. It has been far too long.”

"Wait," Hunter called and you paused in turning away. "What did I say?"

His earnest question only served to make you feel worse. "Nothing, Hunter. The problem seems to be with me. I just need some time away from the war, the loss."

Hunter's eyes cut a neat contrast against the darkness of his tattoo. "I can't help much, but how about some time spent with an old friend?"

"I have to go make my report to the Council," you hedged.

"After that, then," Hunter suggested. "I'm not gonna twist your arm about it, but you're the one who said it's been too long since we saw each other."

You gave a small smile at that. "That's true. Meet me at Dex's Diner tonight?"

"Comm me when you're leaving the Temple," Hunter instructed, giving a respectful nod as the two of you parted. 

As soon as you had finished with your report and washed the grime of a long mission from your skin, you contacted Hunter and started your journey to Dex’s Diner. The small restaurant had been a Coruscant staple for years, but it had recently seen a huge surge in business. Not only did Dex make fantastic food, but he served meals to anyone who wanted to buy them. The Besalisk had a firm open-door policy, especially where clone troopers were concerned. Off-duty clone troopers were a common sight in the diner, laughing and mingling with Coruscanti civilians.

Hunter was already inside, having secured a booth tucked away in the corner. While clone troopers were far from rare at Dex’s Diner, Jedi were seen less often, especially since the war had begun.

Still, you slid into the booth across from Hunter and gave your usual order to the serving droid. Surreptitiously, you input your credit information as well, paying for the entire meal before it had the chance to deliver a total.

“What is that smile?” Hunter asked, offering one of his own.

“Nothing,” you said, waving off his question. “So, what have you and Clone Force 99 been up to since I saw you last?”

Hunter blew out a breath. “It’s been - what? A year since we saw you?”

“Yes, nearly that,” you agreed, trying to keep the edge of sadness from your voice. Early in the war, you had been on a series of missions with the Bad Batch and had planned to keep working with them, but a member of the Jedi Council had sensed your attachment when you returned planetside. You had been reassigned and ordered to cut ties with the enhanced troopers before the attachment grew stronger.

You had reluctantly done as you were told, but saying goodbye to Clone Force 99 had been difficult. In retrospect, that was likely a good sign that you were indeed getting attached to these troopers. However, that hadn’t stopped you from meeting Hunter today, the first time you had ran into him since following that order. It was with a surge of guilt that you realized you had taken care not to let any other occupants of the Temple see you leave. You hadn’t wanted them to ask where you were going…

“Hey,” Hunter said sharply, drawing your attention back to him. “Where did you go?”

“Nowhere in particular,” you excused yourself. “I’m sorry, I missed what you said.”

“I didn’t say anything,” Hunter told you. “I just sat here and watched you get lost in your own head. Stay out of there. After all, I don’t get to see you every day.”

“Fair enough,” you conceded. “How have things been going for you out there?”

Hunter shrugged. “Pretty well. We haven’t found another Jedi who works with us as well as you did, but the few we’ve been assigned to have been competent.”

From Hunter, that was high praise indeed. “And who have you been assigned to?”

“Well…” he mused, “We did a few missions with General Unduli and you know we usually work with Commander Cody and General Kenobi. We did just finish a mission with General Skywalker, though.”

“And how did that go?” you asked, smiling at the thought of the GAR’s most unorthodox squad working with the Jedi Order’s most unorthodox Knight.

Hunter rolled his eyes dramatically and launched into the story of rescuing one of Skywalker’s troopers who had been captured by the Separatists. It was horrifying to think of one of the Republic’s soldiers in enemy captivity for so long, but Hunter nearly had your sides splitting when he talked about Captain Rex brawling with Crosshair, Tech leaping onto the back of some winged creature, and Wrecker demolishing an entire Separatist fleet.

“I bet Wrecker was thrilled!” you said to the last point, still laughing.

“He was, of course,” Hunter agreed, sending a soft smile your way. “He’ll forever be looking for ways to top that mission, so I guess I have Skywalker to thank for that.”

“Oh, I needed this,” you sighed, wiping a tear from the corner of your eye.

“Want to talk about it?” Hunter asked. “I get the feeling you haven’t been happy about much lately.”

“Oh-” you stammered, his insight stunning you for a moment. “I don’t know if there’s any particular reason…” 

“If you had to think of one, then,” Hunter suggested. 

You blew out a thoughtful breath, trying to gather a year’s worth of abstract thoughts and quickly stifled smiles into a cohesive summary. “It’s… hm. It doesn’t feel… right, to laugh and joke when soldiers like you and your brothers are working so hard and so seriously to win battles. It seems- seems almost like ignoring their sacrifices. People are dying every moment, and being happy feels… frivolous, somehow?”

“You aren’t sacrificing people, if it makes you feel any better,” Hunter told you consolingly. “Just clones.”

You had stood from the table before you knew what had happened. Hunter stared up at you in surprise, a rare expression from a man whose senses allowed him to predict behaviors so well. 

“I don’t think this meeting was a good idea,” you told him bluntly. “I’ll see you later.”

“Wait-” Hunter started, trying to rise from the table, but he was interrupted by the arrival of the serving droid. The droid, oblivious to things such as tense silences, began busily unloading its tray of food onto the table, its position trapping Hunter in his seat.

You watched in silence as the table was set to the precise specifications that the droid had been programmed to deliver. Hunter, avoiding your gaze, fiddled with his silverware, ruining the droid's perfect symmetry with only a touch.

When the droid had finished and rolled away, Hunter looked up at you, confusion and guilt mingling on his face. He gestured to your plate. "Please?"

You eased back into the seat after a moment of thought. Hunter couldn't know why you were upset if you didn't give him the benefit of an explanation.

To give yourself a moment of thought, you unfolded your napkin and spread it across your lap. When you were done, you made direct and unblinking eye contact with Hunter. "It hurts me when you talk about the troopers like their lives have less meaning. Like they deserve nothing more than death to achieve a goal."

"That's what we were told all our lives," Hunter countered carefully. "At least the regs were told they could die in sacrifice for the Republic. We were told that we deserved to die because we were different."

The disgust and self-loathing in Hunter's last word made you reach out and cover his hand with yours. You made no effort to influence him - you respected him far too much for that - but you tried to convey your sympathy with a touch.

"And now you know that isn't true in the slightest," you reminded him. "I can't change a moment of your past, but we can all impact our shared present to create the future we deserve."

Hunter's warm fingers flexed under yours as he flipped his hand over to weave your fingers together. 

"That's why you're the Jedi we keep asking to be assigned to," he said with a fond smile. "You don't see us for what we can do for you, for the Republic. You just see us."

You raised your eyebrows at that, your heart feeling lighter than it had since the early days of the war. "As if the Bad Batch could be tied to a single Jedi…"

"For you?" Hunter pretended to think about it. "I think we could give it a try."

With a shared smile, the two of you turned your attention to the food you had ordered. Neither of you commented on your hands, still intertwined on the table between you.

---

A/N - I originally had a different ending in mind, but I liked this one too much to change it. I’ll leave it up to you to decide what happens when Hunter realizes that you’ve already paid for your food! 

Thanks for the request, @dreamingofclones! I hope you enjoyed!

[knightprincess]

In This Heart of Mine (Crosshair x Fem Reader) Oneshot

Words: 2336 Warning: Grief - Implied Character Death A/N - Not proof read also her/she pronouns used Description: Crosshair remembers how he lost his Runi. 

If there was one thing Crosshair hated about the empire. It was how they look his love away. Despite it being months since the Republic and Jedi Order had fallen, it still hurt him to remember it, he still hadn't dealt with the grief, the brokenness he so often felt. Despite his best efforts to ignore it, it always caught up with him during the quiet moments. Even now he could swear he heard (Y/N)'s voice, so clear as if she was standing right beside him. Crosshair guessed in a way she was, she was still with him if not physically then in his heart, closer than ever. 

"Wish you were here (Y/N)" whispered Crosshair, his barracks empty, his brothers having left him behind days after he lost (Y/N). Days after his life had been ripped to shreds. They had yet to come back for him, despite the obvious he still hoped they would, he hoped they hadn't given up on him, not now when he still needed them so much. His new squad members weren't his favorite people, if he was honest he hated them, to him it felt like they were replacing his brothers, or at least the empire was. They took away his (Y/N), now they were trying to replace his brothers with natural born soldiers, people he hoped would just leave him be. 

Crosshair didn't know the name of his new squad members. He didn't bother trying to remember them, even more so when comments had been made about how miserable he was, how they could do a better job just because they were natural born and he was a clone. Every time they were sent on an assignment he found himself hoping they didn't come back, or if they did they wouldn't return to the barracks. He wanted his brothers, if he couldn't have that, then he'd rather be left alone to grieve and remember the better times of the past. Times that he wished he could go back to now. If only so he could tell (Y/N) he loved her one more time. Even now he could still remember how he had lost her. 

Flashback 

The snowy terrain of Kaller was a welcome sight compared to the normal battlefields. Although the thick black smoke bellowing towards the grey filled sky, was a good give away as to where the battlefield actually was. Tech had made a comment about needing to reach General Depa Billada and her Padawan Caleb Dume soon. Wrecker mentioning something about not being able to wait to get his hands on the droids and destroy something, it was clear the oldest of the special unit was getting impatient, perhaps more so than he was on the Marauder heading over to assist. Echo and Hunter continued on with their conversation, although both keeping an eye out for any battle droid that was roaming the area or stragglers from the battle to have already taken place in the area they walked quietly through. 

Crosshair on the other hand was towards the back of the small group, walking just behind (Y/N), his Jedi General and lover. His normal smirk placed upon his lips, although shielded from everyone else by his helmet. The sniper not being able to help but look over her, to admire her beauty, even when she was determined to help those she considered friends. Her lightsabers attached to her belt, ready for when she needed them, a sure thing considering they were once again heading into the battlefield. At their current position at the top of some snow covered hills, they were in the calm before the storm. 

Also on the large steep hill was Caleb Dume, he seemed hopeful yet confused to see them, as if he was expecting more. Although he seemed pleased even reassured to see one of those sent as reinforcements was (Y/N) (Y/L/N), one of the many Jedi Knights, although one whom was rather well known to the republic at this point. Her power alone made her famous. Although she had also become known for her skills in battle since the wars had began just over three years prior. 

What would have been an ordinary reinforcements mission had quickly gone sideways. Crosshair could remember (Y/N) leading Hunter, Echo, Tech and Wrecker into the fight against the battle droids, blue lightsaber at the read. The young Padawan having returned to his master to keep them updated on what was going on. He had watched as they took out the enemy forces, how Wrecker was having the time of his life, even how Tech made a comment or two as if greeting an old friend. Even how Echo effortless took out the battle droids around him. Hunter using his knife and blaster as he always did, where as (Y/N) had effortlessly deflected laser bolts and helped destroy the tanks and spider droids. Crosshair had done his normal task and covering for those in the thick of it from his lofty perch. Shooting any and all droids who got to close to those he cared for and loved. 

Yet it was after that when everything went wrong. (Y/N) had given them orders to take out what remained of the droids nearby, to help with the counter attack, agreeing to allow the Caleb to go with them. Only when they were a distance away did they all receive an order, especially from the Chancellor. Execute Order 66. Caleb sensing something turned back, seeing his master fighting against the clones surrounding her, already too many of them for her to handle alone, he was about to go back when he heard her yelling for him to run. Although he had been frozen to the spot. Only moving when (Y/N) grabbed hold of his arm and running, her other hand hold the side of her neck. 

Crosshair had wished he didn't have enhanced sight that day. What he saw still haunted him. (Y/N) had appeared in shock, her eyes wide, one of her lightsabers missing. Yet the hand holding the left side of her neck, slowly turn crimson, as a trail of blood was left in her wake. Almost instantly Crosshair had felt fear, hate even. Yet none the less listened to the orders given by Hunter. Wrecker was stall the regs if any came searching for (Y/N) and the Padawan, Echo and Tech were sent to find out what was going on and why the regs and turned so suddenly? Why they fired on their commanding Jedi? Where as Crosshair was set to go with Hunter to find both (Y/N) and Caleb. 

As order Crosshair veered off to follow the tail of crimson staining the snow. Finding himself getting more anxious as he continued to follow it, dreading what he would find at the end. His worst fears being met when he come to the end of the trail of blood. Finding (Y/N), lent against a tree, more pale than the snow she sat upon. Her hand still holding on to the wound to her neck, as if to stem the bleeding or hide it from others. Fear shone so brightly in her eyes, yet so did her sadness and pain. 

Without a second thought Crosshair ran to her side, taking off his helmet as he did so. Ignoring the voice in his head yelling the same four words over and over again. Instead focusing on his lover. The moment he reached her, he reached for her hand, taking hold of it in a gentle grip, feeling as she weakly squeezed his hand in return, as if to reassure him he was still alive, all be it just. She still had some strength left. Within seconds Crosshair had pulled her into his lap, fighting back his tears, even more so when gently moved her bloody hand from her neck, seeing just how back to wound was. Instantly he knew there was nothing he could do to help her. Only make her comfortable in her final moments. Yet still he hoped his words would encourage her to fight a little longer, until help arrived at least. 

"Don't you give up on me Mesh'la. Just hold on" quietly spoke Crosshair, his words seeming so loud in the quiet area. He soon placed his own hand over her neck wound, taking hold of her hands in the other. Only now when looking over her, did he see she had been hit more than just once. Another scorch mark on her lower leg, just beneath the knee and a third on her right shoulder. "Remember the plans we made for when the war was over. Finding a plot of land somewhere, somewhere quiet and off grid, somewhere away from all the chaos and hassle" started the silver haired sniper, recalling the many conversations he had with her about leaving everything behind when the war was finally over. Taking his brothers with them, only telling a few trusted ones where they were going. They had planned a life together. 

"I love you" whispered (Y/N) in response, lying against him. Her back against his chest, his long legs either side of her. Tears soon come to her eyes, as the inevitability hit her, she was going to die. Just like the other Jedi who had already fallen. Yet she had something they didn't, her sniper at her side and the knowledge of knowing none of her unit had betrayed her. "Promise me, you'll go on, you'll keep living" choked (Y/N), as she began to cough up her own blood, her end fast approach, even Crosshair knew it, he could feel her hands growing colder and heaver as her body went numb. 

"No" responded Crosshair, his voice as quiet as hers, as he fought the losing battle with his tears and heartbreak. "There's no living without you" added the sniper, showing how much he loved her, how much she meant to him. "I love you Cyar'ika, please just stay with me"  begged Crosshair. Tears breaking through his barrier as her hand fell from his, as she let out her final waspy breaths. All Crosshair could do was hold on to her tightly, hugging her, protecting her as he struggled to see anything past the blurriness of his tears. A strangled yell ripping from his throat moments later. "Come back (Y/N), Please come back. I love you, please" cried Crosshair, hugging her as tightly as he could, not wanting to let her go. Not wanting to do anything other than be there with her. 

Hunter had found him moment later, having heard his strangled yell. He lent down besides the pair, closing (Y/N)'s dull (E/C) eyes for the last time. Placing a hand on his brother's shoulder moments later, trying to be strong for his grieving young brother, knowing his heart had broken beyond repair. He couldn't bring himself to say anything to Crosshair, nor did he protest when Crosshair reached for her remaining lightsaber, tinted crimson with blood. 

End of Flashback 

Crosshair soon shifted, reaching for the box on the small shelf behind his pillow. With a heavy sigh he opened the box, (Y/N)'s lightsaber still inside. He'd made a point of preserving it, even more so when it was all he had left of her now. He cleaned it whenever he cleaned his rifle, it being part of his routine. If he was feeling down before a mission, he'd take the lightsaber with him, so how it always helped to make him feel a little better. Crosshair liked to believe (Y/N) was with him when he had the lightsaber. 

"I'll make the galaxy a better place (Y/N). I'll make sure they don't forget you" whispered Crosshair, knowing his choice to stay with the empire, wasn't one he made easily. It was difficult, yet his brothers had helped with his choice. They had saved him when Kamino was destroyed, yet the distrust had been obvious. "One day I'll avenge you my runi" promised Crosshair, recalling when he had retrieved the (Y/N)'s lightsaber from his old barracks in Tipoca city, his determination had kicked in to save it. Hunter had put it in his pack, returning it once they reached the landing pad. Yet the real and only reason Crosshair had remained with the empire was revenge, they took his runi away from him, took his home away, turned his brothers against him and tried to kill him. His only motivation was to ensure the empire would fall, even if doing so cost him his life. 

"We'll see each other again (Y/N). Reunited when its all over" whispered Crosshair, as he left his barracks on board the star destroyer he'd been assigned to. Determined to remind the oblivious imperials of what they had helped take away and destroy. Determined to do what he thought was right, in the name of his lost love. Determined to see through what he hoped would be his redemption, or at least that's what he believed he was doing by helping Rex located their brothers still within the empire, Wolffe, Cody, Howzer even Dogma, as well as passing on information regarding future plans for the remaining clones, besides being fazed out of service. 

"In this heart of mine. You'll live for a lifetime" uttered Crosshair, his attention being drawn to the photo he held on to now. One taken during the war, it was clear it was during one of the many assignments. (Y/N) held on to her blue lightsabers, he was just behind her, his rifle one her shoulder as he aimed at something in his sights. (Y/N) actually looked like she was covering him while he destroyed something in the far distance. With that Crosshair returning his focus to the self given mission of bringing the empire down, no matter the cost. 

Translation: Runi = Soul

[the-silentium]

Featuring a Dimwit

Masterlist

Pairing: Bad Batch x Reader, Hunter x Reader, Crosshair x Reader

Words: 3236 words

Warnings: Mmmh. None. 

A/N: This series begins after the saga “After the Nightmares”. If you’re new, you might want to start with Good Night, Good Luck if you want to understand what’s going on.

Taglist: @clone-rambles  / @mandaloriandin / @apathetic-catastrophie / @jenstar1992-2 / @haloangel391 / @lightning-wolffe / @cherrydemon5 / @and-claudia / @lackofhonor / @gaymasonjar / @depthsreturn / @koskareevesismyqueen / @leonidas-banana-phone              

_________________

It had been going on for a bit less than a month. The back and forth of pranks between each and every male member of the Bad Batch, passing from moving around one's equipment up to tripping others or painting insults on an inattentive brother's backplate. 

No one ever admitted they did the prank and you often took the blame despite never participating when you couldn't contain your laughter and no one was able to back you up on your whereabouts of the day. It wasn't a bother to be the scapegoat for whoever really pulled the pranks- your best bet was on Wrecker, although some tricks had more of a Tech vibe, like the time Crosshair's modulator had such a high pitched tone that the civilians mistook him for a female- the pranks were overall pretty entertaining. When they weren't targeted at you, that is. 

You could have murdered the one who put Knytixes under your bedsheets. Thank the gods, you avoided jumping right onto the 6 crawling insects due to the light illuminating the barracks since you were the first one who headed to bed, although it didn't stop your hand from squashing one under your palm in inadvertence. The nearly empty room filled with clones in record time as your surprised scream resonated through the closed door and bounced between the ship's walls. Since no one took its responsibilities, you threatened everyone's masculinity and claimed a spot in Hunter's cot while Tech used jars to take away the remaining insects that Back-Up hadn't had time to eat. 

The intensity of the pranks dropped in the following days and none were meant for you, leading you to believe that the Batcher who hid the disgusting critters in your bed understood that he went too far or was too scared for his balls. 

Hunter was resting after a tiring morning of paperwork, Tech was fumbling on his datapad with this concentrated gaze that only he could have while reading endless oceans of information on whatever was his interest at the moment, Back-Up was lounging on his shoulder to absorb the warmth radiating from his blacks and Wrecker cheered you up as you competed against Crosshair on who could reach the top of the tree the fastest. 

"This needs to stop!" Hunter had barged out of the Marauder in a yell, quickly breaking your concentration 10 meters above the ground and only 2 away from your objective. 

The quick glance you allowed yourself to throw his way was a bad choice. The shock of seeing the right side of his face blackened out to mirror the tattoo on his left side caused you to grab the wrong tree limb, a smaller one that couldn't possibly sustain your weight and would have sent you flying down if only your right hand wasn't firmly wrapped around a thicker branch. 

Crosshair won the competition and you were dangling in the air by one hand, huffing in defeat. You knew he'd wear a victorious smirk for the remaining hours of the day, you had annoyed him so much about being a better climber in the hope to have a short playful time with him. It was frustrating to know that you were winning right before Hunter came in the picture and broke your focus. 

You may be a better climber, but Crosshair definitely was better at staying focussed on his task and ignoring each and every distraction. 

"Oh that's a good one!" Wrecker's laugh sent him knocking against the tree, the resulting vibrations threatening the reliability of your grip. If only you were wearing your fingerless gloves, the bark of the tree wouldn't bite your skin as much and you wouldn't be tempted to let go. "Don't know who thought of that but this is the best idea of the month!" 

"It wasn't me." Tech immediately added to dissipate any suspicions, not even bothering to look up from his datapad while doing so. 

"Not me either!" You shouted while reaching for the branch with your opposite hand and pulled yourself up to sit and give a break to the sensitive skin of your palms. "And I was with Cross the whole day." A grunt of approval resonated behind you, even though it was completely unnecessary and clearly didn't reach Hunter. Or maybe it did. 

The sniper took a seat next to you, one hand keeping his balance with a branch in its grip while the other kept you close by your waist. 

Once again, no one took its blame. You wondered if you should laugh about it or not. The guys- because it really never participated in these shenanigans and you were certain it wasn't Back-Up either- always managed to never leave clues and never get caught in the act and you were deeply admiring their skills. They weren't top commandos for nothing! 

"No. More." Was Hunter pissed? No. He was fuming. "Or next time we're on base I'll register everyone for a thorough medical exam." 

Oh the ultimate punishment was out. The prank war ultimately reached its end on a fine sunny afternoon as there was no way it could compete against a complete medical exam, the displeasure that came with the variety of tests surpassed by far the good laugh of pranking someone, and thus, you knew no trooper in this team would dare pull another trick. 

"C'mon Sarge. Not that."Wrecker was the first to complain about the consequences, quickly followed by Tech who stated that all your physical health were optimum. 

"Yes that, and I don't care if we're all at our top. The smallest of trick on anyone of this team will get all your asses in the medbay." He finished in a do not test me tone and returned inside the ship to scrub the ink off his face. 

The muscles pressed against your side were now rock hard, same as the grip slowly tightening around your waist. 

"Don't worry." A peck on his cheek was enough to take his mind off the needles and noisy machines. "No one will dare pull one if that's where it'll get us." The creases between his scrunched eyebrows relaxed with a small nod, knowing just like you that his brothers would not play with that fire. 

You would all be fine. 

______

"I'll kill the one who pulled this one." You fumed in the examination room, knee bouncing under your hand as you waited for the doctor to come back and dismiss you. 

The wait allowed you to think of a plan to finally know who was pulling those jokes and make them regret it. Multiple ideas grew in your mind, one for each member. The planning got interrupted momentarily by the clone who entered your room to inform you that you were in perfect health. Your tests were flawless just like your bloodwork and he couldn't see why your CO requested such a rigorous examination. 

"Someone pissed in his cereal." You jumped off the table and shrugged at the bewildered look on the man's face before taking off in the direction of the hangar. 

It wasn't nearly as drastic as someone peeing in a bowl, but it certainly was just as insulting. 

That last one was personal to the team and you couldn't get how a member of the Batch could do this. It just didn't make sense. Them who constantly fought against the snide remarks, disdainful gazes and harsh behavior, could not possibly have degraded themselves like that.

You quickly boarded the ship after successfully ignoring all the regs watching you speed walking to your destination. Hunter was there with the rest of the boys, watching the insignia over the door like the name of the culprit was written somewhere in it. 

You pushed the button to close the railing and keep this event private, before joining the silent half-circle of irritated men glaring at the paint tainting the wall and every so often glaring at the others in the room like they were the ones who did it. Well, one of them did. No one wanted to admit it. 

Clone Force 69 was painted in thick black letters right over the door for everyone inside to see. At least, the rest of the base didn't know. 

Who the hell would write that? That's what you expected from the regs, not from your own team. 

"Hope y'all appreciated the trip in the sterile field." The grumble on your right opened the door for a concert of groans. "Now the person who did this better say it now."

"But I told you it couldn't be any of us!" Arms open wide at his sides, Tech repeated exactly what he did before Hunter contacted the medbay to order four medical exams. "We all went to bed at the same time and all exited the barracks together. No one got up during the night!" 

You could testify for yourself and Hunter for that. Really, it was unfair that you had to endure the exam, but then it would have been unfair for the other Batchers. At least this time you weren't a suspect. 

"Apparently someone did because it did not write itself." 

"Even the calligraphy doesn't match anyone's!" He pointed out and proceeded to tell how the curves and spacing didn’t correspond to either himself, Wrecker, or Crosshair. 

You perked up at the new information. The calligraphy. It did not match any of the Batcher? But it was so familiar. How could you know these harsh cursive letters if it wasn't the clones'? You never saw anyone else's writing as they all used datapads around here. 

Clone Force 69. Why- it sounded familiar too. Something at the back of your mind bugged you. You knew that. 69. You used to laugh at these references all the time with him. Somehow, when you read it, it was his voice that rang out in your head.

"Guys." The word nearly didn't pass your mouth as the usual tightness in your throat manifested itself like every time you thought about him. "That's Kayden's style. It's his writing too." 

"Took you all long enough! Miss me motherfuckers?" The sight of the very same blue-eyed brunette who disappeared into your arms more than a year and a half ago, magically appearing out of thin air in the center of the room, arms open wide at his side like he was a big surprise froze every thought in your brain. 

Your breathing slowed down while your heart rate perked up, the thudding resonating all the way up your brain to rhythmically ram against the bone and raise the pressure in there. 

"Kayden?" Wrecker stood at the appearance of the newcomer, or ghost, or whatever he was. 

"What did you expect? Ya can't get rid of me that easily." He winked, not even meeting your gaze yet. 

"Wh-You guys seeing him too?!" They all nodded in silence, too stunned to manage anything more. Hunter's hand on your thigh that you hadn't noticed until now tightened at your inquiry.

He looked the same. Same Forsian clothes, same tousled hair with his persistent cowlick at the front, same sparkling energy, although your expert eyes saw through the facade as easily as ever and found some uneasiness. "How- your soul got- you died." 

It took you a month to overcome your denial and finally be able to say that he died and was not simply missing. He didn't just disappear, his soul disappeared. His soul got eaten by a pesky little brat. He had died back there, nearly half an hour before dawn. He died in your arms that night and every following night for three weeks and he couldn't be here. As much as you wanted him to be, he couldn't. 

"Yeah. I'd like to think that it was because whoever was assigned to me on the other side couldn't stand me, but I truly think it's because of your sad ass crying over our crest with the Core around." He shrugged when his eyes finally met yours. "And by the way, you're ugly as fuck when you cry." His diversion to hide his discomfort failed miserably. You saw him gulp as he took in the water filling your eyes. 

"I mourned you, you asshole!" The hand on your thigh wasn't enough to keep you in place. Getting up without a problem, you moved to your once closest friend and the one you considered your brother and punched his shoulder with all your might. You were pissed, but not enough to aim for his face. 

The lack of any concrete object colliding with your knuckles sent you tumbling through his body. It gave you a chill like you'd passed your hand through a mound of snow. The coldness vanished as soon as you completely exited his apparition, leaving goosebumps as the only proof of the momentaneous change of temperature. 

"Neat trick eh? Took me months to master it!" He beamed, truly enthusiastic about his new ability. His smile wavered once he took in your fury. "Okay, okay. Hit me again, I won't do it." He presented his cheek. 

You weren't falling for it again. Your ego was bruised, your feelings were crushed, your whole being was screaming in a mix of anger and relief. 

"Fuck you." He recoiled at your glare. "You were here the whole time, watching me cry over your fuck ass self and didn't say shit." This time, when your fingers poked his chest, they made contact and you noticed how warm he felt compared to the cold from mere moments ago when you passed through him. 

"I wasn't here the whole time." He shook his head to defend himself. "I woke up one day, I think it was a month after it all, and no one could see or hear me. Took me months to build up my strength to be able to move one of the toothpicks that are everywhere in this ship." 

A growl could be heard from behind Kayden who immediately changed something in himself so the toothpick thrown at him passed right through and bounced on your shirt. A click of his tongue and Crosshair was gone, preferring the comfort of his bed after a long visit to the medbay to listening to what the brunette had to say. 

"Wait! So all the pranks, it was you?" Wrecker approached the Forsian, an impressed glint in his eyes. He reached for Kayden's shoulder, surely to try out the feeling of touching a ghost that can actually dematerialize himself. Unfortunately for him, Kayden was now flesh and bones… or whatever he was.

"Needed to come back with style, my friend." He smirked and turned to admire his art tagging the wall. "That's a better team name, ain't it?" 

You used the fact that he was now a solid version of himself to slap the back of his head. It was with a small bit of pleasure that you noted that it felt the same. Even the yelp was exactly as you remembered. 

"You karking sent us to the medbay." Crosshair shot from the room clearly still pissed from his little trip. You felt compelled to go snuggle with him, even more because you had assured him that he wouldn't have to undergo a medical appointment. 

Your frustration towards your brother came back full force. Not only could he have shown himself weeks ago when the first prank started, but he dropped so much shit on all of you, from the long-lasting ink on Hunter's face, to Tech's burned hand when his live wires had been moved without him noticing, to the forced medical trip and let's not forget the bugs in your bed. 

It was a good thing that the sniper wasn't in the room as he would have been mad seeing Kayden trying to keep the smile off his face and failing miserably. "I didn't send you there. He did." He pointed at the Sergeant with a smug grin. "I was just being a nice little ghost."

"Nice? You call yourself nice?" You couldn't take more of his bullshit. If you stayed in the room another second, you'd lash out and it wouldn't be pretty. All the nasty words floating in your mind would hurt more than you really intended and you couldn't have that. Not when you could still hear the repressed sobs racking his body in your head. 

You walked away, tears gathering in your eyes, but you didn't care. Crosshair would hold you again and it'd be fine again. "Fucking Dimwit." 

"Thank you." He called with such seriousness that you stopped in your tracks. "For bringing me back." 

At that moment, water ran down your cheek and there was nothing you could do about it. You wanted to hold him tightly in your arms and pray that he wouldn't fade away this time. But you were scared. Scared he'd do just that. Fade away and leave you once again to try and piece yourself back again, with more missing pieces than you already have. 

You were lucky though. Clone force 99 was good at creating stuff with limited resources to accomplish impossible tasks. With their skills, time, patience, and different level of care, they filled some holes. However, some were still painfully empty and were too intricate to replace. 

"Don't thank me." You sighed, shoulder slumped, hand hovering over the button to open the door to the barracks. 

He frowned. "You can't really be mad at me." 

No, you couldn't. Not when he was back. And even less when he died for you in the first place. 

You shook your head, still watching the marks engraved in the door. "I'm not." 

"Then wh-" "Him." You cut Kayden off to point at Tech whose eyes were as wide as saucers and his body inching closer and closer to get a better look at him. 

"Stay away." Kayden jumped to the side, avoiding the engineer’s curious fingers as well as his scanner that somehow found its way into his possession. 

Still, the clone didn't give up and followed the Forsian wherever he backed-up. "But you can pass through things!" His first try at passing through Kayden was unsuccessful as he met flesh, just like Wrecker. 

"No. I'm not going to be penetrated by your fingers for science. It still feels weird." 

Tech, however, was quick to find a way to get what he wanted. A fist flew to Kayden's face, not too quick to let him time to see it coming, but with enough force to promise a black-eye if he didn't dodge it. If only there had been a wall behind him to stop him from jumping back and avoid the knuckles. 

"But do you get how useful this could be during a mission!" Tech tried again, but Kayden was prepared. 

"Yeah and ghosts can go poof!" He mimed explosions with his hands and disappeared into thin air just as Tech's fist was to make contact. Instead of hitting Kayden, his fist collided with the wall of the Marauder. 

You entered the barracks, Tech's hiss of pain filled the room and caused Crosshair to chuckle in amusement. 

"So we have a ghost now? Can we keep him like we kept Back-Up?" Wrecker asked excitedly. 

"Great. Just. Great." Hunter grumbled, a hand slowly moving down his face and the door closed behind you. 

[eastenderkray]

( Ron takes an interest in a waiter)

Me Kray bruvthers

Chap 1: Y-You want to what Ron?

( Warnings, Aggresive flirting, sex, Cute neediness, bad punctuation)

Gary had spotted the Krays sit down in his section, He felt himself get hot, He always had a dream that they would walk in and he would get to tease them. They weren't considered the most eligible bachelors in the East End, but every girl drooled over Reggie and every homosexual man Ronnie.

Gary silently cursed and praised Grace, the hostess, who put them in his section as he walks over. He stood up straight, Tooched his arse, then smiled as he shifted nervously on his feet. He was infront of the LEGENDARY KRAYS!!!" Hello, I'll be your waiter today, What would you like to start with?" Gary questioned flirtaiously, He eyed Ron a bit and smiled politely at Reg." Tea for the both of us Luvvie, 2 sugars in both." Ron responded.

Gary nodded and promised." I'll be back in 2 minutes!" He turned on his heels and glided across the floor, He tuned his ears to Rons slow calming voice." Hes fackin' delightful, You think he-." He got to the kettle and couldn't hear anymore. He poured the hot green tea and added the 2 sugar cubes to both." I'm delightful." He whispered to himself almost jumping with excitement.

Ever since they became boxers he wanted them, One of his friends was into boxing. Bobby was his name, Bobby was a childhood friend. He fell off the swing and broke his back, paralyzed him for life. So he always would send Gary out to get his papers and what not. Only reason that Gary knew of the Krays before the expensive suits and ties is because they would make the front page of the boxing magazines almost every other week. He would buy his own copy and pin the pictures of the shirtless men on his wall.

Gary took the cups back to them, Trying to walk like a some girls who wanted to be models in the market. One foot infront of eachother, Sassy as hell, and with a false sense of confidence. As he reached the table he felt the tip of his shoe hit the foot infront of it, He flew toward the table top. Holding the tea upright, He'd rather break his nose, Loose all his teeth, Smack his neck against the table and break it before he split tea on the Krays. He felt a hand grab his shoulder and another grab his chest!

He was brought to his feet while Ron chuckled." You okay?" He saw that Reggie had his chest and Ron his arm. They were both sat calmy. He felt his face was on fire, He was taking way to long to reply! Say something! He egged himself of nervously as he put their tea down." Yes and no!" He quickly rushed away from the table, fleeing to the kitchen. He knew that Julie, His best friend was on break. He followed the ciggarette smoke and found her flirting with a cook, Daniel. He didn't care though, He broke the sexual tension by sobbing." Julie the Kr-Kray twins are out there and I just blew my chance with Ronnie and I can't go back out please go fix it!!"

Gary hid behind his hands as he cried even harder." I-I fell infront of them!!" Julie quickly pulled him aside and asked." What?!" She barely understood a word he said, He was just so hysterical and he couldn't help it." Take over the table just take over the table!!" He shouted. She ran away from him and went to go see what he was talking about.

Gary wiped his tears and took a deep breath. He was going to pull himself together and hide in here. Daniel asked uninterested as he flipped a sausage ." Your fag fantasy don't like you?" Gary sputtered back angrily." Don't call him that, He does like me, I ruined it!!"

Suddenly Gary heard Julie behind him." He said he wants you or he won't order, Gary hes being scary, Reggies in the bathroom if you want to say something to him." Gary quickly runs to the door leading to the diner. He stops, Wipes his tears again then pushes the door open and walks over to table 7.

Gary sits down in Reggies spot catching Rons full attention. He saids quickly." I am sorry I ran, I-I got nervous."

" What were you nervous about luv, Spilling tea on the handsome man you're talking to, or breaking your neck?" He smiles at Gary before saying." So you wanna get outta here and explain to me why you ran from me?"

Gary felt his palms get clamy with excitement." Y-Yes, But what about Reg?" Ron replys almost offended." What you want me Bruvther?"

Gary sputters." N-No I want you!" Ron smiles and stands up, Gary joins him in his stance and follows him out the door. They walk down the sun filled streets, Gary loved Summer. The smell of cut grass, The beautiful roses, and bountiful plants. Just walking with Ron was Romantic." You like men?" Ron asks, Gary looks over. His nerves now at ease as the grassy wind filled his nostrils." Yes, You know who I find attractive?"

" Who, if ya say ya boyfriend I'll have to kill him."

Gary laughs, Hes never had a boyfriend, He teases." No, I find that Reggie Kray attractive."

Rons face is visibly annoyed but he laughs. Gary continues." I don't know what it is about him, I love how he walks, The way he holds a ciggarette is a real turn on." Ron feels himself tense, He likes boys who obey him, Not boys who like his bruvther." You keep teasing me and I will have to shake some obedience into you." Gary smiled at Ronnie and said with a heart full of lust." You'll have to do that then, Lets go to mine!"

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

Ron walked into the first floor flat, It was decorated in lavender walls, Had little roses, tulips, and tomatoes in the window. Lovely hand sewn dark purple chiffon drapes for the window, He can tell it was hand sewn because the thread was gold and if you looked you could see the little knots at the bottom of the drapes. There was a whole bookshelve full of books of boxing, gangsters, and gardening. The small kitchen had papers laid on it with some strange writing and all the towels were lavender as well. It smelled so good, so Floral.

Gary was visably shaky, This was his first time having a man he liked around. This was his first time he was gonna do something with a man, Anything with anyone!! He was a virgin, He had kissed but he always would run. But now this was it, He was going to loose it to his dream man. Gary talked the talk, He didn't walk the walk.

He turned around to face Ron, Ron is still in awe of the lovely house." Its like me mum decorated this place, Its luvvly, Go sit on the kitchen counter." Gary turned left and stacked the papers on the kitchen counter neatly, He loved caligraphy. Calmed him. He found himself writing about fantasy men, He was 24 after all, He should've lost it earlier. He didn't want to though. Gary felt proud he kept it but like a loser he did.

So Gary sat on the counter and spread his legs, determined. Ron walked over as he took his belt off." This place like a teenage girls fantasy flat." Gary smiled and looked down shyly. Ron stood between Garys legs, Taking off the waist appron Gary kept his note pad in for orders. Ron pulled Gary closer and began to kiss him. Though Gary had kissed before he hadn't really french kissed, Little pecks, Just lips. As Ron sneakily inched his tongue into Garys mouth, Gary froze.

" I should put my tongue in his mouth, He'll think I'm stupid if I don't!!" Gary thought to himself as his hands gripped Ronnie's shoulders, He nervously slide his tongue inside Rons mouth.

Ron could feel his nervousiness but it felt so good, Maybe he just wants to fuck. So Ron pulled Gary's shirt off, Then his own. Until they were both in their own boxers. Gary was still nervous, His grip on Rons stiffy felt amateur. All thoughts of doubt, insecurity, and a nostalgic teenage boy horniness. He felt like he was gonna explode but he can't do anything about it. Ron asked as Gary stroked roughly but none the less pleasurable." How many times a bloke made a mess of ya?" Gary looked up with his blue doe eyes, Full of innocence." M-Many."

" How many?"

" S-So many, I don't remember!"

Ron grabbed Gary's hips and wrapped the boys lower half around his upper thigh." I gonna punish you for lying." He walks over to the door with the cute little embroidery hoop with a bed on it, Kicking the door open Ron was in awe of the room, It stunned him as much as the living room. This boy had the best furniture and decor taste. He had a twin bed with a bright yellow cotton spread, His pillows were a dark purple and his bedframe was dark wood. Best type of wood around in Rons mind. He had a yellow rug, Once again purple chiffon drapes, And a few paintings on the wall.

" A-Are you gonna fuck me or just stare at my room?" Gary asked a bit impatient. Ron nodded before forcing Gary over a small desk, He grabbed a belt off the end of the footboard and folded it in half." Good boy don't lie to their betters, Let alone lie about sex, You get 20 cause ya a facking liar." Before Gary could protest he felt the crack of the leather smack his boxers, He howled in both pain and pleasure.

Gary's boxers were ripped down harshly before the belt cracked again. He whimpered needily, His thoughts are cloudly but he knows he wants Ron. Constantly he's horny, Hes always craving sexual touches, His hand can only do so much, His poor hand, Gary knows he abuses Charlie ( What he named his right hand.)

After the 7th crack he begins to cry, It hurts so bad, It feels so good." R-Ronnie please!"

" You won't lie again?!"

" I-I won't!" Ron roughly grabs Garys throat and forces him to look over his shoulder." Look at me you cunt!" Ronnie spits, Gary feels himself pulsating now, He's always had a thing for name calling during sex. He's always dreamt of being pinned and fucked ruthlessly. Nows his chance." I'm virgin, Just take meeeeeeee!!" Gary crys.

Ron smiles, Virgin. He must be tight. Ron whips his cock out, He couldn't stand another smack, He needs to fuck this piece of gold infront of him. He wants it, Ronnie always gets what he wants. He spits down the crack of Garys arse, So defined, So tone Gary is. He must be a boxer or something, It'd explain the books.

Ron's thoughts are washed away by a precious moan Gary releases, He anchors his hand onto Garys shoulder and uses the other to force his angry cock inside his hole. Gary moans." AWHHHH!" Lustfully, Ron asks." Yea ya like me big cock inside you, You fuckin' ponce, You little virgin, It hurts, Hmmmmm?" Gary lets out a small whimper agreeing.

Gary feels every little vein, Every throb, Every movement. The spit helped alot but he loves the pain." M-More." He mewled as his Hands scrunched papers together. Ron was so amused, Every little touch made the boy squirm like he was covered in bugs. He slowly gyrated in then out until Gary felt more pleasure rather than pain.

Ron picked his pace up and began to fuck Gary, The heat and sweat they both created was toxic, It was like a drug they both couldn't quit. Ron felt himself begin to shake, It had been only 15 minutes! He usually lasted longer! Ron cracked his hand across Gary's arse making the boy scream quickly, Ron muttered into the hot air." Making me cum so early, You bad-." Ron's nails sunk into Gary's cheeks as he exploded with no warning.

Gary scrame." Ronnie!!" As he felt the hot luquid ooze into him, It felt soo good to him." Your mine, Right, Your only mine now." Ron whispers as his lips brushed against Garys neck before pulling out.

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

The pair laied together cuddling, Gary had trapped Ron with his needy whines and pleads. It made Ron certent he wouldn't be able to pry Gary off him. After all Ron was the candy and Gary was the child, It'd be cruel to take one from another!

Deep down Ron was worrying. He always had full control of relationships or just fun fucks, He knew something was wrong, Or too right! He should be back at the Double R by now, He shouldn't be cuddling! He wanted to pull away, Run, Kill Gary if he had to! He was not going to settle down, He never wanted to, He wanted to be Al Capone, Not a bunny's carrot! What was he gonna tell Rosie? Ron loved Rosie, They had been dating secretly for 2 years now, He hated the sex but she was arm candy and that is an essential as a big gangster.

Gary nuzzled his cheek into Rons chest hair and whispered." Look to the right luv." Ron did, There's a big poster board full of boxers, The ones he fought with! Ron saw many pictures of him and Reg, Many lipstick marks on his black boxers and face." I've always liked boxers because of you, Thats why I freaked out when we met, Good day, Lets sleep." Gary yawned at the end of his sentence before holding Ron tighter. At least Ron got a proper answer for his questions. What was he to do?

What do we think?! I tried to in corporate all the wonderful ideas you guys gave me but there was just so many!! If you hoping for a girl I'm sorry! I will make another fanfic once I get a good idea of what I would like to do, If you have any requests please ask! I hope you enjoyed!!

[willowbleedsonpaper]

Tears Of Guilt

Sirius Black x Sister!Reader (Adopted), Regulus Black x Sister!Reader

W.C. : 2490

Warnings: This is pure angst, character death.

“Sit.” ordered Walburga, her voice snapping at you when you took more than a second to get to the chair next to Regulus. You could hear the clicking of her heels on the wooden floor behind you and if you focused enough, you could hear her thoughts, the words boiling inside her head as she abruptly stopped next to you “Where is he?” she said sharply, her eyes burning holes at the top of your head as you stared blankly at the wall across from the table. 

“I don’t know.” you muttered, voice dead as you kept your gaze on one specific spot, avoiding her eyes at all cost.

She scoffed lowly, her pacing behind you resuming once again “Don’t lie to me, Y/N.” she threatened “His belongings are gone, his room is empty. Where. did. he. go?”  she asked, leaning her body between you and Regulus as she turned her face to you, her hand carefully caressing your cheeks before she gripped your chin and forced your face to look at her “Stop protecting Sirius or it will be worse for you my child.” she said, staring directly into your eyes as she let go of your face, red marks in both your cheeks from her tight hold.

You swallowed hard, returning your face to the portrait you used as an anchor. “I haven’t seen him in weeks, let alone talked to him.” you told her, feeling the warmth of Regulus’ hand taking hold of yours under the table, a reassuring squeeze coming from him as you kept a dead gaze in your face.

“You’re lucky your mother was a dear friend of mine.” she hissed, standing in the middle of both chairs, just inches away from your hold onto Regulus hand “If it was up to me I wouldn’t have put up with you all this years.” Tears started burning in your eyes, the rapid blinking keeping them at bay as you tighten your grip in Regulus hand. 

Of course you knew where Sirius was. Until a month ago he spoke to you like you were best friends, and in a sense you were. The sister he never wanted but ended up loving more than he knew he could love someone. But not enough to take her and his brother with him, to stick together like they had promised one another. He had made his choice and now it was your turn.

“I can only assume he is with one of his friends.” you spoke after what felt like an eternity in silence, Regulus taking a hesitant glance at you and the tear that rolled down your cheek. “Probably at the Potter’s.” you mumbled, missing the grin spreading over your guardian's face as she dismissed the both of you.

“Why did you do that?” Regulus said, barely keeping his own emotions at bay as he carefully closed the door of your room. 

You sat down on your bed, patting the space next to you for him to take “It’s just you and me now.” you told him, lifting your face with unshed tears in your eyes “Sirius made his choice and now we have to do the same.” you told him.

“Mom’s going to kill him.” he told you, taking a shaky breath as soon as the words left his mouth.

You only nodded, taking him into your arms as you rubbed his back enough to ease his breathing “He killed us when he left.” you murmured in his ear “Always remember to fight fire with fire, Regulus. It’s the only way you’ll survive.”

********************************************************************

It was your last year at Hogwarts. One month and you would be thrust into the life of a full time Death Eater, the mar in your left forearm marking you for eternity to a path you couldn’t escape. And neither could Regulus. 

“You were always more clever than I was.” you told him, watching as he filled page after page of parchment with information, not even giving it a second thought as he knew exactly the words he needed to plasm the knowledge in the paper.

He shook his head, dipping the quill in the pot of ink as he continued his assignment, the small smile in his face going unnoticed by everyone but you “It’s nothing.” he said “You taught me well.”

Just as you were about to answer the quiet atmosphere in the common room was disrupted. Your feet instantly bringing you up as the laughs died down as they saw you standing in the middle of the room “What are you doing here, Sirius?” you asked sharply, his grin widening as he elbowed his friends.

They all laughed loudly, your eyes falling to the flasks in their hands as you slowly but surely pulled your wand from your sleeve, Regulus walking to your side in the same stance. 

“You sound just like mom.” Sirius said, the words dragged by his tongue as they all erupted in laughter once more. “Finally turned into her? Are you ready to step into your role as the new matriarch of the ancient family Black?” he mocked, saluting you as he stood straight, James and Peter imitating him as your grip tightened around your wand.

“What do you want?” you asked through gritted teeth, your arm shaking with rage as you raised your wand at them. 

Remus was the only one who seemed to sober up instantly, his face falling as he reached for his giggling friends “Let’s go.” he murmured, all of them turning to you at the look in his friend’s face.

You weren’t the only one with your wand up now, Regulus stepping in front of you with a firm hand raised. The look in his eyes cold as he walked towards his brother “You think it is funny?” he asked him “You managed to escape and now we’re the enemy?” he spat the words, the Marauders now ready to duel.

“It appears we all have chosen our sides.” James said, eyes trailing down to Regulus arm, his sleeves rolled up leaving his mark out in the open.

“Stay out of it, Potter!” Regulus’ hissed, not once moving his eyes from Sirius. “Your sister asked you a question. Or have you forgotten that too, Sirius?” 

“No death eater is family of mine.” Sirius grumbled under his breath, his words cutting deep into your heart as you reached for Regulus, but it was  little too late.

The air buzzed with energy as Regulus shot spell after spell, Sirius and James barely keeping up with him as they blocked his attacks. You watched frozen in place, only snapping out of your trance when Remus tried to intervene with Peter at his side. Flashes of light left the tips of your wands, the possibility of someone finding you slim as it was the Slytherin room in the middle of the night. Only the Marauders being stupid enough to go there at such an hour.

It was only when Regulus stumbled back that your concentration broke,  a spell hitting you on the chest as you feel back. Your face shot up in rage, reaching for your wand on the carpet as you pointed directly at James “Stupefy!” you shouted, hitting him as his body flew across the room, leaving you a clear path to Sirius.

Your movements were messy, the spells rolling off your tongue naturally as you cornered him against the wall, the tip of your wand against his throat when the only sound that could be heard was your heavy breathing. 

Sirius did nothing as he waited for the spell to come out of your lips, his eyes boring deeply into your wild ones as he held his breath.

“If I see you, any of you,” you yelled, motioning your head around the room “anywhere near Regulus, I won’t be so forgiving. Do you understand?” you asked.

Lowering your wand he ran straight towards James, supporting his body against yours as they made their way out of the Slytherin common room. Not once glancing back, not another word spoken as his footsteps died in the silence of the night.

“He really hates us, doesn’t he?” Regulus asked you, straightening his clothes as he rolled his sleeves down. 

“I told you before.” you said, reaching for his arm “This is not who we are, but how we survive.” you took his right hand into your left one, just like the day you both received your dark mark. Together, hand in hand.

You walked inside the room where many of the close followers of the dark lord waited for you two. Dressed in your best clothing, your mother announced your arrival with a grin in her face. 

Regulus had a stoic face, not an emotion breaking to the surface as he held your hand. You on the other hand were putting up a show , a proud smirk on your face as you lifted both your arms in the air, the dark marks fresh in your young skin as your new family clapped and cheered in rejoice. Two pureblood children turned to man and woman to the dark lord’s will. 

No one would ever dared doubt the both of you now.

********************************************************************

It had been years of enduring and obeying the dark lord’s commands, but your work had paid off greatly. Regulus had found his weakness and was in the path of saving the wizarding world.

You couldn’t have been prouder of him, offering himself to do the job as you played your part as his alibi. You were on your way to becoming legends. 

The sound of light footsteps caught your attention as you paced in the kitchen, your mother gone for the day as you “dealt” with the house. You rushed to the hall, stumbling on the furniture there as a smile was drawn on your face “Regulus?” you called, as you turned both sides “Reg?!” you called again, eyes falling lower to the floor. “Kreacher, where is Regulus?” you asked, your heart beating faster as you felt your breath get caught in your throat as he shook his head. You left out a sob, falling to your knees as you clutched your stomach.

Loud sobs and cries left your mouth as you looked up to the elf “Where is my brother?” you asked in a whisper, the tears falling freely down your cheeks.

“Kreacher did everything he could.” he told you slowly “Master Regulus is dead, Mistress.”

“No, no…” you said in between sobs, resting your back against the wall as you choked in between sobs “NO, HE’S NOT DEAD!” you screamed, hitting the floor with your fists until blood stained the wood.  Your cries echoing through the empty house until they could no longer be heard.

********************************************************************

You had begged Kreacher to take you back to the place he last saw Regulus, with no luck. His loyalty to your brother more than his fear of you. That’s how you found yourself all alone, standing over an empty grave with no one but the hope that he was listening to you.

“It should have been me.” you murmured, holding your umbrella close to you as the rain became heavier “Why did I let you go on your own?” you sobbed, using the end of your sleeve to clean your tears.

It had been a month since Kreacher arrived all alone that day, one month since you had taken your belongings and left the house you had grown to call home, leaving it empty for Walburga to find. You had become the one thing you never wanted to be, the one person you promised you would never forgive. The person walking up to you with his own tears.

“Y/N.” he called, making your entire body tense before you slowly turned his way.

“Leave.” you spat, storming his way as he stumbled back at your response “Get out of my sight.” you glared daggers at him, roaming your eyes all over his body.

“He was my brother too.” he told you shakily, looking over your shoulder at the newest grave in the place.

“So now we’re family again.” you said with a sardonic look in your face “He still had the mark in his arm, so do I.” you pulled your sleeve up, thrusting your arm in his face as he closed his eyes shut. Your arm dropping like dead weight at your side, never bothering to cover it again.

“I had to get out of there.” he tried to explain “You don’t know what it was like for me.”

“You think we lived a fairy tale? The perfect life?” you asked in disbelief.

“It was easier for you.”

“Merlin, Sirius. We had to become Death Eaters, I had to take care of Regulus, He had to kill!” you shouted, pointing angrily at the grave as you looked for his eyes.

“But of course, I’m sure being a Gryffindor was a torture, running to the Potter’s and living the dream, forgetting you even had a family.” 

“It wasn’t like that and you know it!” he snapped, his eyes turning to you as tears threatened to spill at any moment.

“Oh no!” you said with a breathless laugh, shaking your head as you poked his chest “You don’t get to cry for him.” 

“He is more my brother than he is yours.” he said bitterly, the pain crossing your face making him regret his words instantly, but it was too late for that.

“Then where were you the past four years, Sirius?!�� you screamed “Why did you leave when I told you I had a plan to get us all out of that nightmare? Huh?” you asked in tears, seeing him frozen in place and just as you had imagined all this time: without an answer.

“I thought…” he stuttered, a rare sight in him as you stood there expectant of his answer, only for his words to die down.

“You didn’t think, Sirius.” you told him with a sigh “And if you did you only thought of yourself, as usual.” you said bitterly “We could have left that place together, but you had to be your selfish self and ruin everything for Regulus. I could have left,” you said placing a hand in your chest “But I stayed for him. And you left for yourself.”

“I’m sorry.” he mumbled after a long minute of silence, a tear dropping from his lashes on his cheek. 

You walked to stand beside him, leaning to his side “I want you to drown in tears of guilt.” you whispered in his ear, glancing slowly to his face. You met his eyes before your gaze fell on the tear resting against his skin. “I want you to choke on your own tears as you realize you have no right to be here.” you said, brushing your thumb over the tear rolling down his face “You don’t get to cry, Sirius.”

TAGS:

Skittles @fanficflaneuse @nebulablakemurphy @lupins-sweater @accio-rogers @gloriousrebelrunaway @slytherinprincess03 @not-today-anxiety @strawberriesonsummer @infinity1o1 @haphazardhufflepuff​ @deafgirltingz @summer-writes @herstory-study @peeves-a-legend

[some-kindofgnome]

question of the night: what are your HQ faves drinks of choice? what kind of drunk are they?

omg cee this got... so out of hand lmao HERE WE GO you asked so i am gonna tell you 

literally everything there is to know about my favourite drunk HQ boys 💖 

w: drinking/intoxication, some drunk kisses and taking care of drunk people 🥺

Bokuto: okay this is multi-faceted because I FEEL LIKE bo’s favourite drink is like a strawberry daiquiri. especially if it’s the kind that you bring home in a can and blend up yourself. It’s soooo sweet and delicious and he’s also just not the type to get caught up in whether or not that’s an embarrassing thing to like drinking or not. so that’s definitely what he’ll have if, like, anything goes.

If he’s, like, out at a restaurant or at someone else’s place for a party, he’ll go for a cider. Maybe something sweet, like blackberry or cranberry cider if he can get it?? I hc that Bo has a big sweet tooth in all areas tbh.

When he gets drunk, everything that makes Bo… Bo gets amplified. He will speak louder and louder the drunker he gets, until somebody mentions it to him. Then he gets self-conscious and will whisper for the rest of the night. His body runs hot like a radiator when he’s drinking AND he needs everyone around him to know how much he loves them and how happy he is that they’re hanging out with him.

By the end of the night, he gets all needy and clingy, laying sloppy kisses on you at every possible opportunity. He definitely needs a babysitter to make sure he doesn’t get in bed with his shoes on and will keep up a consistent, low ramble about how much he loves you and how good you are to him until he passes out in the pillows and snores louder than he ever has in his entire life.

🍸

Akaashi: akaashi sits on the opposite end of the spectrum. Contrary to what many people like to write about him I think he DOES drink on the reg, even if it’s just, like, a drink here or there when he has to take work home. Either way, he definitely strikes me as a wine guy. Loves to pour a nice sweet red, definitely NOT picky about drinking it out of a wine glass or not.

Akaashi is a BIG FAT lightweight, though. It only takes him, like, two glasses of wine to start feeling really woozy. Not that you’d really be able to tell, unless you took a good long look at him. Akaashi pegs me as a really high-functioning drunk who just sort of bobs around the party with his cheeks flushed and eyes a little hazy, liking the way the wine makes his head buzz pleasant and soft.

I think he gives in a little more easily to affection that would normally make him clam up a little, if that makes any sense. Like, if you go in for a hug he’s gonna lean into it a little more than he usually would. He might actually hold onto you for a little while longer than normal, too, turned just a little clingy when the wine lowers his inhibitions.

But by the end of the night he’s definitely the one you can still rely on to put you safely to bed. he’ll be well sobered up by then and, even if he rolls his eyes, would half-drag you all the way home through the snow if it meant making sure you got home safely.

🍸

Atsumu: OKAY this is another kind of complex one. I have the feeling that when Atsumu goes to a party or like goes drinking with friends he orders beer. Beer all the way. Cheap, shitty beer, whatever they’ve got on tap, blah blah blah. And he likes it fine, it gets the job done. Maybe it bloats him a little more than he’d like and sends him to the sticky bar bathroom to piss one too many times a night, but it’s better than standing at the bar and ordering

what he’d rEALLY LIKE TO BE DRINKING which is a cocktail 👀 I think he would be into cocktails that don’t taste like they have alcohol in them honestly aldfjlskdfj I don’t think he likes the taste of most hard liquor so he would want something with like lots of peach schnapps or like fireball with apple juice, whatever weird house drink the bar served with like a thousand different mystery ingredients to mask the taste of the cheap vodka in it.

Atsumu is a MESSY drunk too, like stealing-drinks-off-the-bar, shouting across the table, laughing SO loud and slamming his hand on the bar so hard it knocks over the cocktail peanuts. he also gets like, horny and REAL flirty, but in the dorky way. Inhibitions GONE. Dumb pickup lines ENGAGED. He’ll also like, get the pickup lines wrong which make them even more nonsensical.

If he’s been wanting you in ANY capacity, if he’s so much as LOOKED TWICE at you before, you’re gonna know after sharing a couple of drinks with him. He ALREADY can’t be trusted with keeping secrets, but after a night of drinking there’s no WAY. Oh ALSO he and his brother BOTH turn beet red after exactly one (1) mL of alcohol. so you know it’s affecting them when they’re flushed from chest to forehead.

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SPEAKING of Osamu, he is the one fucking respectable idiot who likes his liquor NEAT. He’s got that sophisticated palette, and I have a feeling he’s a really big wine enthusiast too (and like- know how to pair it with food really well, etcetc) but his idea of an indulgence at the end of a long day is like… a good single malt or like a fucking butterfly pea flower gin with nothing in it.

And he’ll stand there in the middle of a party drinking THAT or drinking his fucking sophisticated-as-fuck cocktail, like an Old Fashioned or a Negroni like it’s no big deal. Just don’t make the mistake of trying to make conversation by asking him what he’s drinking, because he will never stop talking.

I think that’s definitely the most distinctive feature of drunk ‘samu is that he just.. runs his mouth. Constantly. He’s not particularly boisterous or sloppy (like his brother) and he’s capable of like… having an intelligent conversation, he just never shuts up and will ramble enthusiastically about anything you can get him onto. Drunk Osamu is a lot friendlier than normal with that telltale (adorable) drunk flush about the tops of his cheeks, his nose, forehead, neck and ears.

He’s also really affectionate and loving with you if he’s had a couple. It’s still that cute sort of quiet, loving affection, but he’s not shy about PDA at all when his inhibitions are down. He’ll come up behind you at a party and put his arms around you, rest his chin quietly on your shoulder and kiss your temple. He’ll take your hand and pull it into his lap if you’re sitting next to each other, eyes trained on you with the MOST loving smile touching his lips. He’s a simp for you every day, but it shows extra hard when he’s drunk.