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acupofqueercoffee · 3 months

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“Everywhere I go leads me back to you”

Farah Dowling x Female Specialist Reader

wc : 3000+

cw : smoking cigarettes // soulmate identifying marks // not actually unrequited love but kind of an ambiguous ending

i’m currently in my eve best brain-rot era and this is just a little something to blow off steam before i continue brainstorming for rhaenys. there is an awful lack of rhaenys x female reader stories, so if you are in need of some just like i am, you can come yell your ideas at me. farah breadcrumbs are welcomed too 🤲🏻

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There is a terrible ache dancing along your legs, pain faintly pulsing across the plane of your back. Behind the security of your palm shielding the unruly breeze, the cigarette which hangs between your lips is ignited by a spark from the lighter, made only brighter by a breath that you subsequently inhale. It burns your throat, but in a way that you are well accustomed to unlike the vexing agony that has found home on your body as of late.

This sensation, one that breeds irritation, is nothing akin to the pleasant soreness that you are used to feeling after every training session during your time in the Solarian Army. While, in the past, you go to bed satisfied despite your aching limbs, an indication to a day purposefully spent, now you brood over the state of your body. It is, after all, one of the telltale signs that you are not in your pristine condition, which has also brought you to once again roam these grounds that you have so intimately known and walked to begin with.

Getting severely maimed during a mission has led to you getting temporarily dismissed from your duties. Rather than taking leave as is suggested to you, you have instead requested to be sent to Alfea, your former school, to both recuperate and share your combat expertise with the students as a temporary instructor, not being entirely too thrilled at the idea of wallowing in bed-rest after days of rigorous trainings to hone your skills, or perhaps if you are to be unabashedly honest, out of a profound yearning of your heart.

A chuckle bubbles in your chest, bitter, tinged with self-mockery. It is with an exhale of breath that you distract yourself, expelling the uninvited thoughts along with a cloud of smoke that escapes through your nose, through the crack of your lips, and they swirl around your head. After taking a final, languid drag of the cigarette, you toss it to the ground, effectively dousing it with the heel of your boot.

You are in desperate need of a drink, preferably alcoholic, but given that work is in progress, not to mention a class that you have to supervise alongside Headmaster Silva at hand, you opt for something less strong. About a couple of minutes later, you find yourself in the staff lounge. With professors busy at this time of day teaching their respective classes, the room is empty, and you walk to the counter to brew yourself a nice, hot cup of coffee.

The aroma of freshly ground beans is rich, but richer still is the perfumed air that pleasantly tickles your nose. It smells of books, of sunny afternoons, of jasmines in full bloom, of a love left buried.

“You reek of cigarettes.”

At the familiar voice, amused rather than displeased, that spreads over you like a warm blanket, you cannot help but let loose a little grin, recalling many a time during your school years when you have suffered an earful from the woman herself for your misbehaviours.

“If you’re going to reprimand me for it, you should have known better by now, Headmistress, that it’s no use trying.”

“Even the mountains will eventually crumble, will they not?”

Amusement tugs on one corner of Headmistress Dowling’s lips by the time you turn to face her. She gestures to you with a small tilt of her head. “Mind if I join you?”

“Not at all.”

“Coffee? I just brewed some.”

“Please.”

After pouring the freshly-brewed coffee into two porcelain cups, you put sugar and a splash of milk into one cup while keeping the other black. You carry them to where the Headmistress has seated herself on a nearby couch, handing the sweetened one to her.

“Here it is, my lady.” Your playfulness earns you an eye roll. “A cube of sugar and a splash of milk if I remember correctly.”

With a delicacy that you are sure only she possesses, she cradles the cup in her hands with a whispered “Thanks.”

“You remember correctly.” A blossom of a smile grows on her lips, beautiful and dizzying, but the soft tummy-butterflies inducing moment is abruptly eclipsed by the pain that suddenly flares across you ribcage.

Try as you may, you fail to rein in your emotions it seems, for one moment, the mind fairy is sitting, and the next, she is on her feet, the cup hastily discarded on the table. Her hands are poised to steady you should you falter on your feet. You stop her with a gesture of a hand, a chuckle freed from your throat as a sorry excuse of a reassurance. Although unconvinced, she makes no further moves, says nothing, only quietly observing you with her eyes as you move to sit on the other side of the couch. She retakes her seat.

“How are you finding your new job so far?”

“It’s…different. Slower than what I’m used to in the army. But the students are eager to learn and-” You take a sip of your coffee, chance a glance at her, and see that she is taking a delicate sip from her own cup. “-it’s good to be back here.”

As much as you like to believe that the last part of your confession is the product of it, the more logical part of you argue that it is the mention of her students that has her wearing a ghost of a smile, pleased.

“They are, aren’t they? And they’re fortunate to have someone with your experience as their instructor.”

After a beat, she adds. “And…how are you faring?”

The question has you hesitating for a moment, not wanting to appear weak, but nothing will come of lying to a mind fairy, much less someone who bears your name, the mark of your soul on her body.

“Recovering. Slowly. But it’s hard to stay still after being on the front lines.”

“I understand. Sometimes the hardest battles are the ones we fight within ourselves.”

Her face is unreadable, a masterful deceit, but you suspect there are hidden depths to her words.

“Last I recall, you weren’t a fan of coffee.”

It is with her own words that you begin your response. “You recall correctly, but many a white night has left me relying on it. And I’ve grown rather fond of its company.”

She levels you with a reproachful lift of a brow.

“You consume coffee, black I might add, because you can’t sleep? Aren’t you going around in circles?”

“I need it to keep me alert. Also, in case you forgot, I’m no longer your student, Headmistress.” Your reply comes out more venomous than you have intended it to, years of bottled up emotions suddenly coming to a boil.

“That doesn’t mean I’ve cared for you any less.”

Although the confession is but a murmured breath, the force of it is colossal against you, filling your mind with what-ifs upon what-ifs. With an exhale and a squeeze of your eyes, you hurriedly stand, a string of words fleeing your lips as you leave the room in a haste.

“If you’ll excuse me, I have a class to teach.”

The brain may forget but the heart always remembers. She has eyes the colour of rich honey, brown at first sight but drenched in sunlight, swirls of greens and specks of oranges dance and mingle, a beautiful, enchanting lake that makes you want to drown in it. Although she carries herself with an authority as befits a Headmistress, her students matter to her above all else. She cherishes her job to a fault, so much so that once upon a time, she has simply dismissed the soul tie that you share without so much as batting an eyelid.

The class passes in a blur. You guide, you demonstrate, you regale them with tales of your battles all the while drowning in your own memories. Even as the last class of the day is dismissed and dusk sets in, you remain on the training grounds, practicing, fighting imaginary opponents, in hopes of giving your mind something else to focus on, which you find to be failing miserably.

From the very first moment you have met her all those years ago on your first day of school, there has been an inexplicable connection, a feather-light touch of magic that softly caresses your skin. “Sup.” has been your very first words to her, admittedly not the most ideal greeting of a new student to her Headmistress. A look is all she gives you, unimpressed, understandably so, and given that your class is mainly supervised by Headmaster Silva, you seldom cross paths with her after that. On rare occasions when you do cross paths however, despite your greetings, she refuses to acknowledge you as though you are invisible to her.

And finally, finally, when she decides you worthy enough to grace you with her words, it has been to scold you. On that fateful day, you have been standing on the sidelines as two of your classmates are locked in a fight on the platform. It just so happens to be one of those days where Headmistress Dowling is present on the training grounds to spectate the progress of the students.

When a dagger has flown astray from the middle of the fight, it aims at one person, who at present has her back to the imminent threat, trapped in a conversation with Headmaster Silva, you realise in trepidation. Without thinking, you leap, an arm darting out to catch the weapon in your hand. Inwardly, you marvel at your own reflexes, finding it hard to believe that you have stopped a weapon with your bare hand, albeit not without consequences. With your palm cut open, blood has oozed, and the thick liquid drips down your wrist.

The close proximity of the Headmistress to you is felt in that spine-tingling, knee-weakening way, and smelt in the fragrant wind, before her voice finally reaches your ear in the form of your name. The pleasant surprise that takes hold of you at her knowledge of your name is quickly overshadowed by annoyance at the tone of her voice, equally as annoyed, her displeasure apparent on the hardened plane of her face once you turn to greet her.

“A thank you would be nice. I just saved you after all.”

“Which was utterly unnecessary I might add. Don’t mistake recklessness for courage.”

Ouch! That hurts. Even more so than the dagger’s mark that has permanently found home on your body.

“Greenhouse, at once.”

It is amidst getting your wound treated that you notice something that has not been on your skin before. On the delicate flesh of your wrist appears a name in a beautiful cursive. Farah, it reads, but judging by the reaction of the earth fairy before you, unfazed and composed, you reckon that this must be for your eyes only.

No sooner have you had your wound properly dressed than you are seeking out Farah, determined to confront the reality of your bond. You find her in her office, standing by the window, looking out over the grounds.

“Headmistress,” you say, stepping inside. “We need to talk.”

She turns to face you, her expression a mask of cool detachment. “There's nothing to discuss.”

“How can you say that?” You have demanded, stepping closer. “We both know what those marks mean.”

Farah sighs, closing her eyes for a moment before meeting your gaze. “The revelation changes nothing. I do not own you. Don’t let mere words bind you to me. I’m only your headmistress and you are merely my student. And that is where this ends.”

Her words cut deep, but you refuse to back down. “Farah, you can't just ignore this. It's not just about words or marks. It's about what we feel.”

“What you feel,” she has corrected you, her voice firm. “I am responsible for the safety and education of all my students. I cannot afford to let personal feelings interfere.” And in that no-nonsense way, she adds, “Also, it’s Headmistress Dowling to you.”

With a shake of your head, frustration and hurt well up inside you. “It's more than that, Headmistress and you know it. We have a connection, something real and undeniable. Why are you so afraid of it?”

For a moment, you see softness in her eyes, revealing a flicker of the pain she is trying so hard to hide, but it is gone as soon as it has come. “Because if I acknowledge it, everything changes. And I cannot allow that.”

“You're wrong,” It sounds unconvincing even to your own ears, but a desperate murmur. “Ignoring it won't make it go away. It just makes us both miserable.”

She turns away, her shoulders tense. “Go back to your training. Focus on becoming the best specialist you can be. That's what matters.”

You have stood there for a long moment, dared to entertain the fool’s dream in which she turns back, says something, anything to acknowledge the truth you both feel. But she has cut that little thread of hope by remaining silent, a statue of unyielding resolve.

Finally, you turn to leave, your heart heavy but your resolve unbroken. “This isn't over, Headmistress. Not by a long shot.”

So you have declared but deep down, you have always known that you are doomed to failure from the start. And before you know it, the graduation day dawns bright and clear upon Alfea, a stark contrast to the turmoil inside you.

Students and faculty have gathered on the grand lawn, the air filled with excitement and a tinge of sadness as friends prepare to part ways. Farah Dowling stands at the podium, her regal presence commanding attention as she addresses the graduates. You stand among your peers, listening to her speech but barely registering the words. Your heart is heavy with the decision you have made. Despite all your efforts, Farah has remained resolute in her stance, keeping the walls between you impenetrable.

As the ceremony eventually comes to an end bringing with it your inevitable departure, you have caught the Headmistress’s gaze from across the stage. Her eyes have lingered on you for a moment, a flicker of something unspoken passing between the two of you. Then she looks away, and the moment is no more.

In your dorm room, your belongings are packed and ready, each item a reminder of the years spent at Alfea, of the bonds formed and the love left unrequited. Your friends try to convince you to stay, to join them in their adventures, but you know that you are in desperate need of a fresh start, far from the memories that still haunt these halls.

So, with your bags slung over your shoulder, you make your way to the gates of Alfea. Behind you, the school stands in all her majestic glory, a place of learning and growth, and of heartache. You pause, taking a final glance, realising with a hint of melancholy that you are not only leaving a place that has been your home for three years but also a part of yourself behind.

You have not been expecting a farewell, one last goodbye, but there she is, standing tall and composed at the gates. A spellbinding beauty, you think stupidly.

Your name spills forth her lips, dainty and delicate in appearance, but you have not been given the chance, nor will you ever be allowed to find out how they feel against your own, a forbidden fruit. When she speaks, her voice is firm, genuine. “I wanted to wish you well in your future endeavours. You have been an exemplary student, and I have no doubt you will succeed in whatever path you choose.”

“Thank you, Headmistress. Alfea has been…” You pause, swallowing the lump in your throat. “everything to me.”

For a moment, she hesitates, then steps closer, lowering her voice to that excruciating, dizzying timbre. “I hope you find what you're looking for, wherever you go.”

You look into her eyes, searching for any sign of the connection you feel, but her walls are fiercely in place. With a heavy heart, you breathe. “Goodbye, Headmistress.”

By the time you turn to leave, once again, her voice halts you.

Your name leaves her lips in a soft murmur. You turn back, hope blossoming in your chest, only to have it crushed by her next words, both a gentle and a cruel finality to your fated encounter. “Take care of yourself.”

A sad smile spreads across your lips. “You too, Headmistress.”

With every step you take away from Alfea, and from her, a mixture of sorrow and determination burns in your chest. It is finally time to bury the past, to lock away the love you feel and move forward.

Months have passed as you travel, exploring new places and honing your skills. The pain of leaving Alfea and your beloved Headmistress, although duller than they use to, never truly vanish. You throw yourself into your new life, hell-bent on building something worthwhile.

One evening, in a small village nestled in a valley, you find yourself sitting by a tranquil river, the water reflecting the fading light of day. You trace the mark on your wrist, Farah’s name forever etched into your skin. Try as you may to lock away your feelings, the bond still remains, a silent testament to what could have been.

With a sigh, you close your eyes and let the cool breeze wash over you. The past is behind you, and while the future is uncertain, you know you have the strength to face it.

“Fuck, I should’ve never returned to these godforsaken grounds. So much for leaving the past behind!”

Presently, you curse aloud as you slash nothing but air with your twin blades, reenacting scenes from your battlefield. The efforts with which you have made to keep your feelings buried have been for naught, for in the end, in a moment of weakness, you have listened to your heart, and returned to where it longs to be the most.

By her side.

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#farah dowling #farah dowling x reader #eve best #fate winx saga #alfea #winx alfea #winx specialists #character x reader #soulmates #unrequited love #unrequited feelings #not really #brainstorming

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rotten-dogs · 2 months

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bot!bada w some pussy slapping please 🤲🏻

yall don’t care if I title this so I’m just gonna go in raw

You were never a greedy lover. At least that’s what all your exes would say. You were quiet, kind, always attentive to them and for the most part — it was taken advantage of.

With Bada though, you found your appetite had grown egregiously. Every little thing she did caused a wretched sensation to spark inside of you. When she spoke , you could barely focus, mind running haywire with all the possibilities of what, how, when, why?

You were never always like this but Bada fosters an environment where you only can be like this.

You’re both sitting on the couch, some mind numbing excuse of cinema playing rapid fire on the tv while Bada watches silently. The endless dulling scroll of your phone has long since bored you and you find yourself staring at the side of her face for entirely longer than necessary. A smile is slowly creeping onto her face under the ambient lighting of your shared apartment and you know you’re caught; you don’t care.

“Are you going to stare all night?” She asks suddenly and your lip quirks up at that, a hand reaching across the couch to take one of her strands between your fingers. You loop it around your finger taught, before letting it fall loose then repeating it again, and again. She finally looks at you, the dark of her irises all the more inviting. “Come over here.” The words slip from your mouth almost instantaneously. That greed, only she can pull it out from you.

And Bada, she’s nothing if not defiant. Quirking her head to the side she raises an eyebrow, suddenly disinterested in the show and sliding to the far end of the couch, facing you suddenly instead, one leg dangling off the couch. “Over here?” She asks and it feels like she’s mocking you.

You make a move to hover over here and it’s quick. You see a flash of surprise across her features but it’s not there for long. “Bada,” your hand moves to pull her leg closer to you, sliding across her inner thigh and she holds her breath. “You know what I meant.” Your words have a sudden finality to it that convey something dangerous. “I warned you.” Is what they say despite the fact that you didn’t.

There’s a pit burning a ferocious and contagious fire inside of you. You can see it in the irises of her eyes, the way her breath is held in wait, her lip tucked between her teeth while her eyes dilate. You find yourself staring inside of them and seeing the frame of yourself. Your eyes are blown out completely because Bada is a drug; a drug you’ve gotten hooked onto.

Your hands make quick work of her pants before she has time to say anything. Some sadistic desire is brewing in your gut. All those times you’d let her brattiness slip between your fingers, your own desire coming in match to her. Your lack of self control. All of it was screaming at you that this is your moment to regain. Conquer her, take her.

Her now bare legs come to wrap around your waist, an attempt to pull you closer and you shake your head before pushing them back until her knees are touching the fabric of the couch. You can see a slight discomfort on her face but she welcomes the stretch albeit confused. Your hands slide off of her legs and come to hold both of her own, guiding them to hold her own legs as you were before.

“Hold them up or you’ll get more.”

“More wha-“

A load slap rings between the both of you, so much so that the sound alone startles her before the pain is registered. Her hands slip off her thighs and you quickly press them back down into the couch as they start to unravel in her stupor. “I said don’t move them.” You watch as her hands slide back unto the underside of her thighs and her mouth opens,

“Baby..”

Another slap on her cunt. Again, taking her off guard but she doesn’t waver, instead her lip quivers and a familiar wetness is dancing across her pupils. You smirk to yourself at this, biting your lip as you bring your hand up and slap, aiming specifically for her clit this time. A groan sounds between the both of you and you take note of the redness filling the space of her womanhood.

“You think you can do whatever you want, hm?” You ask, an eyebrow raised and you get a desperate head shake in response, “No..”

“Yes you do, that’s why you test me. Isn’t it?” You slap her pussy and she cries out underneath you, legs trembling. “Little slut, you deserve this. All those times you got what you wanted. Look at you now.” Your smile is shit eating and lean forward, your breath fanning against her neck suddenly as you listen to her sniffle, still, her hands are holding her thighs back. She’s still exposing herself for you. You sit back up, pulling her closer against your front before bringing your hand down. Slap.

“Please…” you hear her pathetic sobs beneath you, a tear finally slipping down her cheek as she stares up at you with vacancy.

“Please? Please what?”

“I need you.” Her voice dies in her throat as your hand collides with her pussy once more. It twitches, red and angry as she sobs, her whole body wracking with it as tears spill down her cheeks. You lean forward, licking a stripe from her wet chin to her leaky eyes, the salt of her tears hitting your tastebuds.

“You need me? Huh?” You trail a finger between her folds, eliciting a gasp from her. “You’ve been so.. independent lately I didn’t think you needed anything.”

“Is that it? You need me? Hm? To do this?” You slide a finger inside of her, just one, a tease and oh she’s so pathetic. Looking like a lost puppy when she looks up at you and nods eagerly, her mouth agape as she tries to push herself further down onto your finger, craving friction.

A laugh sounds from your throat and you shake your head, pulling your finger out and slapping her pussy one last time. She starts up immediately, the tears, the begging, the whining and your silence is making her whole body shake. All she wants is you to take her.

And that greed sneaks up on you, as if it had been laying in wait. So you take your lip between your teeth again and pull her up to your level by the milky expanse of her throat. Shoving your tongue in her mouth in a rough excuse of a kiss before forcing her over the couch by the back of her neck, her ass raised and her cunt begging to be filled.

‘Maybe I should deprive her more often’, the only thought crossing your mind.

#bada lee #bada lee smut #bada lee 18

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marimayscarlett · 4 months

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Was Richard crying in the backstage hug video? Looks like he was screwing his face up just before Paul hugged him.

Hi 👋🏻

The gif of the video in question for context:

I don't think Richard was crying there. To me, it looks like a conversation where he perhaps needed encouragement or support (not trying to speculate here on the topic, whatever it is), or Paul simply felt it necessary to reassure him. What I really appreciate and find beautiful is that Paul's shoulder is exactly at the right height for Richard to rest his arm on. It's like a visual physical representation of the emotional support that Paul might truly be for him 🤲🏻

Just like the hug. You can practically see how Richard welcomes this hug, leaning towards him and gently pulling him closer, and I think I actually see a sort of smile on his face and a very caring expression on Paul's face. Whatever the reason was, I think it was just what was needed in this moment 🙂‍↕️🫂

#richard kruspe #paul landers #paulchard #rammstein #ask

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ttpdlulo · 11 months

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🗽🪽𓇼ᤱ꙳ 𝕎𝔼𝕃𝐂𝐎𝗠𝗘 𝗧𝗢 ℕ𝕰𝗪 𝗬𝗢ℛ𝕂... 1989!

2. ...Clean

Style...

흙🤲🏻🎐. Este é um psd de nossa autoria, então por favor não cometa plágio ou nos acuse injustamente de plágio pois isso também é um crime.

흙🤲🏻🎐. Não reposte, e nos dê os créditos com #repzies ou nos marcando.

흙🤲🏻🎐. Para receber o psd, envie uma ask com "1989 PSD combo, por favor". Curta e também reblogue para recebê-lo !!!!!!!!!!

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hopefuloverfury · 11 months

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i saw your tags on the bachelor post, sooooo if you please? could you spare some bachelorette hcs for the soul? 🤲🏻

Well, I suppose I could be persuaded—lmfao I’m kidding. You sent this on Sunday, and I assumed you were talking about the Bachelors In Bed hc list, so that’s what I wrote. I’m really glad someone wanted to see the girlies, too :) Enjoy, anon!

Warnings: heavy NSFW. Sub/dom dynamics, mentions of headspaces, edging/overstim, dirty talk, degradation and praise, tons of swearing, light bondage(?), mentions of feet yikes, and I used GN!reader. They’re listed in ascending age order once again. Minors please do not interact, thank you!

Maru

She’s loud

The slightest touch can have her sighing, and lord have mercy on your eardrums if you nibble on her earlobe, because that’s Her Spot™

She has a tendency to hide her face in the pillows or behind her arms and hands

But that does absolutely nothing to keep her voice down

you’re caught totally off guard by it at first, and at some point you wonder if she’s putting it on, but no

She really is just that sensitive

And loud. Did I mention she’s loud?

Desperate for it, no teasing or edging for her please and thank you

She’s probably a little repressed, what with her dad being who he is (the stick up his ass is massive, genuinely)

So sex with her is going to reflect that, at least at first

Grabs onto you a lot, and her grip is strong as hell

probably has a marking kink and loves leaving hickeys on your thighs during the summertime when she knows you have to wear shorts

And lordy, does she scratch

You might as well have a permanent tattoo of her nails down your back because of how often she uses you as a scratching post

You like looking at them in the mirror though, and she always makes sure to put ointment on them afterward so they don’t become a problem

But this girl doesn’t really talk during sex, regardless of the kind

She’s too busy blowing the fucking roof off the farmhouse

Oh yeah. No sex at her place. Nope.

Not even a gag can shut her up, but you’re certainly welcome to try!

Probably could make your lips numb if you tried to kiss her while she was moaning

And despite what you might think of her at first, she’s not innocent

because of how Demetrius is, she may never have had any experience with another person, but that doesn’t mean she’s never used toys

She can’t buy her own, but she did make a few for herself!

Feel free to use them on her, but be warned that she’ll give you the same treatment afterward

As far as dynamics go, she’s a switch, and definitely overstimulates the fuck out of you as a dom, but when she’s subbing, she’s pretty docile

Listens to you well, and if there’s a sliding scale in terms of brattiness, her and Haley are on opposite extremes (more on that later though)

Overall sex with her is pretty intense, and no it does not settle down the longer you’re together so good luck

Maybe invest in some decent earplugs? For you and the whole town LMFAO

Penny

It’s hard to tell because she’s constantly muffling herself in one way or another

even though it’s implied that she has a situationship with Sam, she’s very inexperienced

She knows how she likes to be kissed, but as far as her knowledge on sex goes, nada

You’re going to have to lead her

She doesn’t really like hearing herself, just because it reminds her of what she’s doing and she’s embarrassed about it

So you can usually trust that she’s not going to be super loud, but she can talk

Nothing vulgar or raunchy

That’s just not who she is

So you’ll probably get way more “I love you’s,” and lots of quiet begging

But as far as noises go, she’ll give you sharp gasps or muffled whimpers

Doesn’t have a ton of confidence and kind of just lets you do whatever you want

That causes some problems early on because she’s not totally up-front about certain things, but you pay very close attention, so it’s not very often that it happens

But it’ll take a lot of trust and communication for her to open up about what she likes during sex

And then you find out that she likes being embarrassed

Make fun of her desperation a little bit, but you should definitely still indulge her

Not to mention if you yourself are just as desperate, that’ll def make her short-circuit

The build-up is the loudest

Her volume is high when she comes, but it falls back down pretty quickly afterward

Grapples onto you like a koala

Like Alex, prefers a lot of contact, and similarly to Elliott, likes intimacy

But also tease her a bit

imagine her reaching for your hand to thread your fingers together, and you indulge her, but chuckle a little meanly?

Yeah. She's dead.

A sub, 10000%

And if you stop doing all the work and force her to do it herself, she is GONE

“If you want it, you’re going to have to work for it”

And she does work for it, but her face is bright red the whole time

A little tomato lol

You’ll have to give her a second to get over her embarrassment though

You can tease her about that too if you wanna

“Are you embarrassed by how badly you want me?” and she shakes her head because that’s not it but also it is

Probably tears up, but doesn’t cry

At least, none of her tears ever fall

Wants to cuddle after sex, and will not let you go for at least thirty minutes

You also are going to need to reassure her

So go for lots of compliments, be sweet and loving to her overall, and she’ll probably want to take a shower together afterward

You may or may not get a round two in there

Abigail

This girl

Well.

She’s got quite the mouth on her LMAO

What I mean is: Abigail curses like no one else

Which isn’t very surprising for anyone involved, but nonetheless I have to mention it

But as far as noises go—oml this girl is so ridiculous—she thinks her moans sound like a really bad imitation of pornstars faking it? hdsjhDGSKDJGH

So she doesn’t allow herself lol

It would take a lot to get her to make any higher noises

You’re not gonna hear any whines or whimpers out of her for the most part

But if you want to, you can overstimulate her

The thing about her voice is that once she starts using it, she won’t stop

If you open the floodgates, she won’t be able to close them

Things in motion tend to stay in motion, yadda yadda yadda

You get the point

Anyway yeah she sounds fucking phenomenal but don’t bother trying to convince her because it will not work ever at all lmfao

What a stubborn little shit abigail i’m in love with you pls

She jerks around a lot

She’s overall pretty sensitive, and if you catch her by surprise, she’ll yank herself away from you

It’s not because she hates it, it’s just reflex

You’ll have to hold onto her pretty tightly

But also.

Tie her up sometimes, maybe?

I imagine she’s the type to have some fuzzy purple handcuffs

Probably bought them off amazon after losing a bet

But she’s never used them before

Except she has you now, so. You know. They see the light of day fairly often

If you want to know how she’s feeling, check her feet

Hold on stAY WITH ME—

She curls her toes whenever she likes something you do

So let’s say you’re going down on her, and you’ve got her legs slung over your shoulders

And you can’t hear her or see her face, but just.

Glance up, or to the side—wherever you’ve got them

And you can tell when she’s enjoying herself easily

Give her hickeys and bite her a bit—her neck is the most sensitive, so if you’re looking for some real sounds, go for there

be warned that she might make your ears ring

Haley

Now we know when you’re just getting to know each other, she’s kind of shallow and mean, right?

But give her some patience and she’ll soften over time

So once y’all are together

A brat.

But also not

Like, yeah, she’s bratty, and needy, and if you try to edge her or rile her up, she’ll just take what she needs ugh i love her

But her sounds will reflect that disposition, so depending on what you’re doing, she’ll either be super sweet, or a bitchy brat

“You’re so slow, hurry up!” or “Please, I’ll be good, I’m so close”

Probably a switch, but leans more toward sub

Sensitive nipples (i hc nipple piercings for her lol you’re welcome for that image)

Latch onto her chest and she’ll be ready to go in like. Two minutes.

But if you want to mess with her, stay there for longer

She could probably come just from nipple play, but she’s never patient enough for it to happen

But touching on what she likes hearing from you for a second, here’s some advice: degrade her

Call her a slut, insult her a little, bro if you scold her for her attitude? Lol you’re never getting rid of her and why tf would you want to?

But despite her general temperament, she doesn’t like pain

So overstim as a punishment is your go-to

But she’ll often piss you off just to get that out of you

Kinda pisses you off sometimes

“Why can’t you just ask me for it? Why do you have to be so bratty? I’d give you what you want in the first place if you just set aside your pride and used your fucking words.”

“Don’t lie, you know you like it.”

She raises your blood pressure every day lmao

She’s versatile, so you’ll hear just about every kind of sound from her

As far as volume goes, she can’t keep her voice down for shit

A fun little challenge is to tell her to be quiet

She can’t do it for shit, but it’s still fun nonetheless lol

Leah

It’s a good thing she moved to the farmhouse with you, because she may not be loud, but you certainly are

This girl knows her shit

She’s really great at reading people, so if you were hoping to slip anything past her, you can toss those plans in the garbage right now lmao

She’s got a tongue and she knows how to use it

Plenty of experience, and she’s gonna make sure she puts it to good use

But she’s not going to go crazy

There’s no dynamics with her, no headspaces, nada

She’s not boring, of course, but she’s not really into all that intense shit

The most that’ll happen is she doesn’t let you touch her until you come at least once, and will probably overstimulate you if you ask for it, but that’s it

Has a very nice voice

Kind of similar to Abigail’s, but a little more smooth, and slightly deeper

She’s not all that shy about her voice, so you can expect an average amount of volume and frequency from her, but she’ll be at her loudest when all of the focus is on you

Very go with the flow, and doesn’t mind a little exploration as long as there’s a hefty amount of communication beforehand

With her relationship history, the easiest way to get her going is to be loving and sweet (FUCK YOU, KEL!)

So if you kiss her with no ulterior motives, or “just because,” that’ll probably be enough to rile her up

Also consent. Consent is very sexy to her

She thinks it’s pretty attractive, seeing you hold yourself back for her benefit

And because she’s so great at reading people, it also means that she knows exactly when you’re doing that

“You keep looking at my lips. Is there something you want to say?”

Likes to tease you about it, but you both know it drives her just as crazy to see you get like that

Likes being complimented quite a bit, (once again, FUCK YOU, KEL) but nothing too raunchy or nasty

Call her “pretty”, or say “I love you” against her lips between kisses?

You’ll have this woman wrapped around your finger like a soulmate string

Emily

In terms of romance, this girl gives Elliott a run for his money

Sex is going to be full-blown occasion for her

Candles, rose petals, music, and definitely some essential oils in a diffuser to help you relax

Probably turns on a salt lamp to align your chakras beforehand or some shit idk

She does not fuck, let’s make that clear now.

Also there are no power dynamics here, nope

Likes intimacy, and prefers any position that makes it easy to kiss you

Which. Oof. She is messy.

Lots of tongue, and if you’re close, probably just gasping into each other’s mouths

She doesn’t actually use pet names during sex

She thinks it’s more romantic and personal to use your name

Maybe a nickname, if you’ve got one

But yeah, no “baby,” “sweetheart”—nothing like that

Also. Eye contact.

EYE. CONTACT.

Will hold your face and force you to look her in the eyes if you try to look away

It’s like the world zeroes in on you two, and she will not focus on anything else

Loves cataloging every expression you make, so if you want to fuck with her facing away from you, you better get a mirror because she refuses to miss anything

Surprisingly not very loud?

Like you’d think she would be, but she’s surprisingly quiet

Not because she’s not enjoying herself, but because she’s just. Not very vocal lol

Loving praise, unsurprisingly

And she gives as good as she wants to get

Probably laces your hands together and presses it over one of your chests, just above your hearts emily please you’re killing me here

Skin contact, a fuckton of foreplay, and honestly her room could serve as a hippie’s sex shop lmfao

So many toys, oils, lube, this girl is prepared for anything

Probably a little vanilla, but that doesn’t mean it’s boring

I assure you it is never boring

I think it’s probably a little surprising for you at first, just how loved she can make you feel

I think with the current dating sphere, with the explosion of social media and smartphones and whatnot, everyone is very disconnected from one another

And she hates it, so when she decides to open up to someone like that, she’s going to do it right

Makes you feel so loved, and you’re obsessed after only the first time

She likes keeping your sexual life private

So don’t expect her to be ready to go whenever, and she doesn’t like a whole lot of PDA

Will not fuck you in any part of the farmhouse except your bedroom

No kitchen or couch sex. Boo-hoo

She wants it to be personal and private, because she feels like it makes it more special if it’s only shared between you two

And your bedroom is your safe-space

She probably says it’s about keeping the atmosphere balanced or whatever

She doesn’t want to have to leave charged rocks on every surface to deal with it if something disrupts that positive energy I am literally in love with her

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ritualdenoche · 1 year

Text

⠀⠀⠀ ᰯ꫶ུ᳜᳝᳜᳝᳜᳝᳜⃛❀⃨ ❤︎ ⠀ welcome to my blog, reqs open 🤲🏻.

she/her ⠛⠖⡅❀˖° ❤︎ 🐆 pinterest 🌳

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k-dokja · 1 year

Note

may i have some johan crumbs 🤲🏻

You came home after a sale at the supermarket. It annoys Johan to see you this exhausted because you refused to have his help. After he gets into a row with other aunties trying to snatch some deals the last time, you've banned him from accompanying you on your excursions altogether.

It wasn't his fault they elbowed and shoved you out. You should've known he would've blown a fuse to see you getting pushed around. Not to mention how you even fell at one point when some of the aunties got too aggressive. Respect to the elders be damned at that point, he was going to throw some hands with these old ladies.

...In hindsight, it makes a little sense why you left him at home. But it also gives him the right to have his feathers ruffled when you return. Miro and Eden bark excitedly at your sight, but Johan is the image of sulking when you look at him.

He steps forward to relieve you of the shopping bags, but the pout he has on should tell you enough of what he has in mind.

"Welcome back..." He mutters before stepping further inside the room to let you in. You were gone only for a few hours, but Miro and Eden both act like you've returned from war.

Well, it's not far from the truth, but he swears they've never been this excited to see him and he had been gone for longer than you at times. Although... he can't really blame them for the favouritism, he'd done the same in their position.

Johan goes to unpack the groceries and the sale purchases while you play with Miro and Eden. Nothing too outlandish, all of the ingredients needed for the food this week, some other essentials in need of restocking or replacement, some clothing, a new pair of shoes for him and then...

"What is this?"

You look up from petting Eden, Miro takes place on your lap comfortably. "It's a costume pyjama," you explain, "I saw several of them on sale and thought they looked cute so I snatched some. Besides, you need something thicker to wear to sleep during winter."

"This looks ridiculous, I'd never—"

You pacify him with only a smile, "Try them on for me, I want to see how you look in them."

Johan gives you a stare that might look judgmental on the surface, but in reality, he's weighing his choices. On one hand, this stupid brown, fuzzy bear pyjama looks mighty comfortable. On another hand, it will make him look silly and he wants to look cool in your eyes sometimes.

"Please."

That does it. Johan sighs and gets up. He doesn't bother to go to the bathroom to get his change of clothes. Not when there is nothing you haven't seen anyway. He shuffles out of his tracksuit and slips on the pyjama. He was ready to hate it. All primed up and prepared to complain.

But then... It's comfortable and warm. The temporary chill he gets from new clothes takes a moment to go away, but the material is nice enough that it doesn't bother him.

One would even say... he likes it.

"So?"

"It's fine, whatever," Johan mutters, unwilling to accept the truth while he sits back down to unpack the remaining of your purchase. "I can use it, so stop looking at me."

"You look cute in it," you beam and it annoys him because that always gives him warm fuzzy feelings.

Johan grunts. He hates the warm fuzzy feelings. It always enables him to do everything for you and he thinks you know that. Worse that this pyjama thing isn't bad at all, he really can't win with you.

"So, it's a good buy then?"

He only answers you in noncommittal hums while he begins to put the groceries away. At the corner of his eyes, he can see you having that triumphant smile on your lips that urges him to kiss it away. Johan pushes down that thought because you don't need more reason to be smug.

Whatever, he's the one with the pyjama so it's his win no matter what you think.

#lookism #lookism x reader #fics #johan seong #johan seong x reader

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idrawsoyoudonthaveto · 1 year

Text

The main silly himself 🤲🏻

Welcome Home has a death grip on me help

#welcome home #welcome home fanart #welcome home wally #wally darling #welcome home arg #welcome home puppet show #puppets #my art #procreate #fypage #fypart #foryou #wally #comfort character #drawing #please don’t take without credit🥺#ipad

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hellhound5925 · 7 months

Text

HERE IT IS 🙌🏻 THE MOMENT LONG AWAITED

Cyare Verd

*OC Raven x Hunter

A/N: Welcome back! I apologize for taking so long but ☝🏼 I edited my original story up to the fourth chapter only to decide I still didn’t like it so guess what I edited the same four chapters again 😅

I’ll start by saying, yes it still follows the season two storyline of The Bad Batch (unoriginal I know) but I did change it up quite a bit. If your looking for Omega (lol) shes gone 👋🏼 I was never a huge fan of her so I wrote her out 🫣 otherwise, I hope you enjoy the new version of my fic. I will be taking it off Wattpad and AO3 in the meantime so I can finish making edits.

Oh, one last thing. If you would like to be tagged please drop a comment or send me a message ☺️ Thank you from the bottom of my heart for taking time out of your day to read this. It means the world to me.

Anyways. Without further ado 🤲🏻 I present to you my updated fic 💖

Prologue/Background

Raven (If you see this. It’s the Pov for the following)

Before order 66 went down, I spent my time on Kamino training new batches of clones for the Grand Army of the Republic. I met many of the troopers who lived there during the time including Sargent Hunter of the infamous Clone Force 99. Our interactions were usually quite brief but there was a certain charm about him I enjoyed from our very first encounter. However, I was there to perform my duty to my clan and that always came first.

It was an honor to continue the legacy my father - Kal Skirata - left behind. He and my brothers - the Null ARC’s - have been off trying to thwart a plot they didn’t realize would lead to order 66.

During that time, Kal’Buir had asked that I stay on Kamino not only for intel but also to get out any defecting troopers.

A friend of mine, who is another Mandalorian by the name of Aspen, posed as a supply ship for myself. She would drop off supplies or bring me an array of random items I asked for to validate her being there. Aspen would then smuggle troopers to Mandalore where they were to live out their days as they wished. A part of our clan. Clan Skirata.

When order 66 did finally happen, my brother Ordo had warned me to prepare for something big that would be happening soon. Whether or not he knew exactly what I’ll never know.

For the first few days, I lingered on Kamino waiting for any one of my brothers or Kal’Buir to contact me but it didn’t come. About a week later a droid appeared in my quarters with a message. ‘Get out now. You’re in danger Sen’ika (little bird).’ Kal’Buir was the only one who ever called me Sen’ika - mostly because I hated it but he could get away with anything.

Shortly thereafter, I packed my things discreetly and called for Aspen. She came within a rotation claiming the usual - that she was here to deliver supplies for me - and to my surprise they let her in.

The minute I was on her ship, the two of us left. We ended up on the planet in the mid rim. Where Ord Mantell became our temporary home.

Chapter One: Cid’s Parlor

Raven

Standing out in the busy streets of Ord Mantell, the sun beats down on my beskar fighting the darkness that rests on my shoulders. I will my feet to move it’s as if this weight is too much for them to carry.

My irritation radiates off me as the thunderous pitter patter pounds in my head each time a citizen passes by - must be nice to live so carefree - I think to myself. Yet they pay me no mind, even though the very nature of my armor is intimidating.

The dull black shein of a well-worn helmet that sits upon my head, with the infamous T shaped visor. The rest of the plates are the same color with a few iridescent feathers poking out from underneath. Ironic right.

This armor is my pride and joy. It was a coming of age gift - if that's what you want to call it - from my father. Kal’Buir was by far one of the greatest Mandalorians in the history of our people - though my opinion might be biased.

A wave of sadness washes over me at the thought of him, my family, my brothers, and my best friend Aspen. Shaking the thoughts from my mind I tell myself they wouldn’t want me to sulk. Aspen would smack me if she were here. Unfortunately, the two of us had to go our separate ways after getting into some trouble. What else is new?

Aspen has always been the friend I can count on for anything. We met as kids on Mandalore and practically grew up together. Once we were old enough, the two of us would drink - a little too much - and run our mouths. Sometimes I’d come home with a black eye and Kal’Buir would say ‘I hope the other guy looks worse’. With a osik (shit) eating grin he knew I could handle myself.

Eventually that trouble caught up to us. When I had been on Ord Mantell before, she and I got into it with a group of merc’s and Cid saved our skin. Usually I didn’t pick fights we couldn’t win but that time I did.

That was just after our home was bombed by the Empire. My family. My clan was there as far as I know. Rumor has it the surface is no longer safe. The blast destroyed everything and killed everyone. Grief does funny things to people.

Since then Cid feels we owe her every time she calls. Aspen was smart enough to ignore her but I can’t leave business unfinished. I don’t like owing people anything.

Bitterness courses through my veins and I find my feet moving through the doorway.

Hunter

Cid's Parlor is loud and crowded - as usual. Which for enhanced senses is why I prefer the solitude of the ship. Let’s not even get into the stench of hot bodies and alcohol might put me over the edge.

I take a deep breath to steady myself and push out the overwhelming sounds and smells, in an attempt to tune back into my brother's conversation. Echo and I were discussing whether or not the Marauder needs maintenance. Which is true it does. However, we don’t have the credits.

One glance over at Wrecker and its obvious Tech is beating him - again - at dejarik.

With a sigh and a gentle swirl of the pint in my hand, I watch as the amber liquid spins like a world pool. The sickly-sweet smell of blood orange and yeast reaches my nose. I let myself get lost in it for a moment, the scent totally washing over me.

The weight of the things we have had to endure begins creeping in. My men. Their safety and well-being are my responsibility. Crosshair.

Before I’m sucked too far into the void, my senses pick up something that wasn’t there a moment ago. Dark, sweet raspberry, rose. I’d recognize that scent anywhere after the hours I’d spent committing it to memory.

Lifting my gaze from my glass, it’s pulled like a force of gravity as a Mandalorian female enters the parlor. A warmth washes over me mixed with a little relief at seeing that all too familiar T-visor. I can’t contain the shock that creeps on my face at her presence or the memory—

‘Alright everyone, today we go over the basics.’ Her voice is crisp but not cold, giving orders and yet…silky smooth. I could listen to her speak to the regs all day.

She continues barking out orders which I recognize as the basics for hand-to-hand combat. I stop listening about half way through just to commit her to memory.

Covered head to toe in dark black beskar, her visor drifts over the group of men before her. The small frame is quite a contrast to the 6ft Clone troopers in formation. She has such a commanding presence, exuding confidence. My eyes roam over her curves and stop at the dual westar -35’s attached to either side of her thighs. For a moment I swear my heart might leap out of my chest—

Raven Skirata.

My trousers suddenly become constricting forcing me to shift uncomfortably. We only ever ran into one another a few times on Kamino. Mostly casual conversation about war efforts. The sound of her laugh when I told her about some of the things we’d improvised on missions, is one my brain never lets me forget. I never did get the courage to ask her about herself.

Raven crosses over to the bar and my eyes follow her every move. It’s only now that I notice she’s skinnier than I remember. Her complexion is quite pale in comparison to the dark circles under her eyes. The sight causes my chest to tighten. What the hell happened?

"Long time no see. I was starting to think you wised up" the Twi-lek bartender says by way of greeting. There's a long pause as the Raven drops her shoulders considerably.

"Unfortunately, I'm a little low on rations to be wise" she shoots back, that silky smooth voice taking on a sarcastic tone.

Having caught the attention of a rather large man - whose been talking loud enough for everyone in here to hear - he leans over to speak to her.

"Wow, that must be real beskar.......Wonder what kind of price someone would pay for th-that...." He slurs a little at the end.

In one smooth motion, Raven ejects her vibro-blade from her vambrace - the steel practically sings - slamming his head into the bar top with the other hand. A loud thud follows. Some of the patrons stop talking to stare while the Twi-lek laughs.

Pressing her blade to his throat she leans in close she sneers, "Try to take it from me and I'll find out how much someone will pay for your head.”

The man proceeds to mumble and she cocks her head at the bar tender as if in annoyance. Letting go of the man he slumps to his knees before getting up and stumbling away, hand pressed to his temple.

I have to work had to suppress the smile that threatens to creep onto my face, the corner of my mouth twitches anyways.

"Don't mess with Mandalorians" Echo chuckles, drawing attention. Raven glances our way tensing. Mentally I command myself to look away but I can’t. For a moment I swear, even through her visor we make eye contact.

Raven

After I’m satisfied I’ve put this man in his place, I let go and he slumps to the floor. Comments fly from over my shoulder but there’s that voice I’ve heard thousands of times that stands out.

I can’t help but turn and that when I see them. The red and white plastoid. Thanking my ancestors for the helmet, I roll my eyes at just how ironic it is they are here. Sargent Hunter and the Bad Batch. He and I have spoken a few times on Kamino but the others I’ve never officially met.

Frozen in place, I stare for a second. The Sargent doesn’t take his eyes off me with an unreadable expression. If I’m lucky he won’t recognize me - I think to myself. Forcing myself to move, I turn back to the bartender with a finger in the air, signaling I’d like a shot.

My gloved hands make their way to my helmet and gently slide it off, letting my messy blonde braid at the back of my head fall. Lately I find myself caring less and less about what I look like.

Placing my helmet on the bar top, I take a breath to steady myself before taking the shot. The burning liquid a welcomed punishment if nothing else.

The bartender nods over my shoulder and I sign knowing what's coming.

"Aren't you a sight for sore eyes" Cid says, throwing an arm over me like we are old pals.

I roll my hazel eyes "I'm not here because I want to be. Lets get on with it" I grumble.

"No 'Hi Cid, how are you?'" She asks.

"Nar'sheb (shove it)" I say in my native tongue with a polite smile on my face. She has no idea what I said to her but there's a snicker from someone close by.

————

"Remember what happened last time you threw your attitude around like that? " Cid scolds me as we enter her office.

Picking dust off my flight suit I sass, "I'm not here to discuss my 'attitude'. What's the mission?"

Cid moves behind her desk and crosses her arms "Fine, I need you to help out a group of fine gentlemen." She starts to explain, her tone a little too...chipper.

I raise a brow, shifting my weight and hum my dissatisfaction.

Cid immediately gets defensive, “Look it’s not my fault you mandos like to find trouble. You’re just lucky I was there to bail you out. Besides, these guys could really use someone with your skills. Dooku's private stash is being relocated by the Empire and I want you to help them get as much as possible".

The fact that she said Empire had my attention and attitude immediately shifts.

"I thought you might like that and I promise I'll give you 20%" she continues noticing my mood lighten.

"30 and it's a deal" I counter.

"Hey! I gotta pay those other guys too. I feel I'm being quite generous.”

I guess for considering who I’m speaking with… "Fine 20%, Now who are these guys?"

"They call themselves the Bad Batch. Wait here I'll go get them" she doesn’t give me a chance to respond before she heads out the door.

For a moment I stay where she left me and contemplate my next move. I can either play it like I don’t know them and take the chance their Sargent will recognize me or…

With an annoyed sigh, I stride over to her desk and set my helmet down before scanning the book shelves. Most of these I’ve read during my ‘spare time’ when Cid let me crash here before. Not surprisingly, there’s nothing new.

Leaning my back against one I take my gloves off and unbraid my hair. The blonde waves fall loosely over one shoulder ending just below my breast. It’s a wonder I ever let it get this long but a part of me just can’t bring myself to cut it.

I make myself comfortable at her desk, leaning back and kicking my boots up on it, When Cid flings the door open and scowls at me. My stomach ties itself into knots but I try to seem disinterested by playing with my hair.

There’s a chance these guys decided like the others to side with the Empire. But the odds they did and they are here? Slim but not zero.

Pushing off the desk I stand and stroll around to the front, leaning against it. A few golden strands fall into my face with the movement. My hands naturally side down towards my blasters holstered at my sides. A defense position that’s become muscle memory. The Sargent eyes follow my every move.

"Take it easy there Mando these are the good guys."

Cid rolls her eyes after seeing my body language. Once again in typical Cid fashion she hid this from me, likely knowing I wouldn’t come.

The largest one of the 4 pushes past.

"I'm Wrecker! I like to blow stuff up!" He says very loudly, sticking out his hand. My body is further tensing.

I hesitantly shake his hand, which compared to mine - even with gloves on - looks like it could easily crush it.

"Wrecker, I feel that last part was not necessary" says the one holding a datapad.

"I am Tech by the way.”

Nodding by way of greeting, I quickly glance over at their Sargent. Had I blinked I would have missed the split second of recognition before the mask of a leader slid into place.

The one with a socket arm glances over at him. Probably from the tension radiating off of me. Those amber eyes see me for exactly who I am.

My breathing picks up, but I quickly get it back under control. The former doesn’t seem to notice, not taking his eyes off me.

I decide to meet his gaze with a challenging one. Hoping to hide whatever it is he sees.

Shaking his head like he’s having a difficult time dragging himself from thought, introduces himself.

“I'm their Sargent-well was their Sargent...Hunter and this is Echo" he gestures to socket arm.

Echo waves at me with his socket and a soft smile. I nod slowly and clear my throat.

“I know who you are.”

Tech lifts his eyes from his datapad to look at me once again. Before he or anyone else can I say anything I continue,

“Raven. Raven Skirata.”

————

When I start towards my ship - alright so it's not really my ship, I stole it - I was so deep in thought I almost didn’t hear someone call out to me.

"Wouldn't it just be easier if we all went together?"

I stop not bothering to turn around "How do I know you won't leave me behind?"

If these are the clones I’ve heard so much about, there’s a good chance I can trust them. However, my instincts are telling me not to. Echo, almost like he is reading my mind says,

"You can trust us, we aren't like the others".

The sorrow in his voice fills the space between us, making me uncomfortable. I roll my shoulders, hands flexing at my sides.

Without saying anything I head up the ramp to my ship, gather a few things in my pack, and come back out to see Echo standing where I left him. The rest of the group must have gone to their ship. With a small nod he leads the way.

As we approach, I stop for a moment before heading up the ramp to admire the hull before me. An Omicron class attack shuttle but it’s been modified. It’s just as impressive if not more so in person. My brothers - specifically Mereel and Jaing - would have loved this thing, I can practically hear them fighting with even Ordo for who would pilot.

With a few steps up the ramp, I peer inside and it’s notably clean. Briefly I take in the surroundings noting the others up front in the cockpit area. Echo glances back at me sensing my hesitation.

“I’ll show you around”

I tip my visor towards him appreciatively, without saying a word.

————

Echo finishes the tour with the bunks, two on the left and two on the right. He gestures to the right, showing me which one is mine and offers me a gentle smile. With a quick glance I realize there are only 4 of them.

“Hunter usually stays up in the cockpit. You get his bunk.”

Great.

I nod my appreciation again and take my pack off my shoulder. The only things in it are a couple changes of regular clothes and some rations. I've not got much to lose that isn't my beskar these days.

Placing my pack on the lower bunk, the mythosaur skull on the back of my gloves stare back at me with hollow eyes. It’s almost like they know. Our people are gone. For a moment I wonder if anyone will even remember what it means.

I forgot Echo was still standing there until his throat clears. He says carefully, “Your father is Kal Skirata.”

My heart starts to thunder in my chest at the mention of his name. I finish settling my pack before I turn to face him. A part of me wants to answer but it feels like my mouth is full of cotton. I mentally thank my ancestors for the visor between us.

“He was one of my instructors. In my early days I mean. He was always really good to us. I heard about what he did...he got some of us out.”

Silence fills the space. I slide my helmet off, tucking it under an arm. Unable to look him in the eye, my boots seemingly interesting all the sudden.

“He’s gone.” My voice almost doesn’t sound like my own. Distant.

“Too many good people have been lost because of the war. I’m sorry to hear that.”

In his kind words, the galaxy feels a little less lonely. I finally lift my head and meet his gaze, seeing the loss there.

“I’m sorry for your loss too.”

Echo only offers me a somber smile in response. My walls go back up and I decide to change the subject. It comes out a little sassier than I had intended.

“So, you all have enhanced something or other right? I mean I was on Kamino and spoke to your Sargent a few times but mostly what I know is what I’ve heard.”

”Each of us had a unique quality. Wrecker is brute strength, Hunter has enhanced senses, and Tech is really smart.”

”Wasn’t there another member? Crosshair?”

Another sad look from him, “He chose the Empire.”

“Ah” I nod my understanding. “How do you fit in here?”

He rubs the back of his neck and chuckles.

“I was originally with the 501st under General Skywalker. We were on Skako minor and I was blown up. Captured by the Techno union and they made me mostly a machine.” Echo lifts his socket arm as a reference.

“My Captain. Rex. He and the Bad Batch rescued me. I owe them everything.”

That name. Captain Rex. It sounds familiar. ”No offense but you just met me and you trust me enough to tell me all this?” My sass once more evident.

He smiles and says “Your father spoke highly of you.”

My throat closes up at the same time pride washes over me. When I don’t respond he continues.

“I’ll leave you to get settled in” and with that he turns and heads toward the cockpit.

I watch as he reaches the others and takes a seat. Unable to do anything else other than process what he just said.

————

It takes me a while to recover from the conversation. A part of me hesitates to comm Aspen but I can’t risk compromising her.

Instead, I take my time to check my weapons (two blasters at my hip, vibro blade in my vambrace, and the various blades stashed in my boots and under my back plate). No one bothers to check on me, which is just as well. Finally, I end with checking the HUD in my helmet - which seems to be functioning fine.

Discarding my helmet on the bunk, I head for the cockpit where the others are chatting quietly. The hushed tones likely to prevent me from overhearing. Hunter stiffens as I approach which only confirms my thought.

The four seats at the front were taken up by each of the members. Leaning against the doorway I cross my arms over my chest plate.

"We don't have a reason to trust each other but once this mission is over and I'm paid, I'm gone. You won't have to worry after that.” The annoyance plastered on my face is visible to all.

They all glance at one another except Hunter, his eyes fixed on my face like he’s trying not to look anywhere else. He almost looks hurt at my comment.

"That seems reasonable" Tech says very matter of factly.

”Great. So, what's the plan?”

“Get to Serenno and scout the area." Hunter says turning his attention to space zooming by at light speed.

I sigh, "That's not much of a plan but I can improvise."

Wrecker chimes in, ”Ahaha you’ll fit right in!” Awkward silence fills the space before I break it.

“Right. Well I guess we should all rest up so let me know when we land.” Spinning on a heel, I head for the bunks.

Next Chapter here.

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