#winrel bane

[sporadicthingcollection]

Hellos! Going thru Dad Bane fic and started to wonder how did Bane react to pregnancy news? Oksana gave the impression that he would choose the dead beat path as he wasnt to be tied down…but here we are four kids after and Irno on his side…

So I already wrote about the first time here and the other time here, so have the second baby!

---

23:55 <<🏆 Trophy Husband 🏆>> BE LANDING SOON. HOME BY 2 IF YOU WANT TO WAIT UP.

23:57 <<pays taxes like a chump>> [[reality_theBachelorCoruscant_Lilo_HappyDance.hgif]] yay <3 i'm bushed but i'll make a bowl for you risotto with mushrooms and nerf sausage just pop it in the oven for a minute

23:59 <<🏆 Trophy Husband 🏆>> LOVE THAT SHIT THANKS

00:08 <<pays taxes like a chump>> actually i'll wait up. i need to talk to you about something

00:10 <<🏆 Trophy Husband 🏆>> THIS BETTER NOT BE THE DIVORCE TALK I WANT THE CAT

00:12 <<pays taxes like a chump>> oh maker no. just have news >:( you can have vincenzo when you pry him from my cold dead freshly manicured fingers 

00:13 <<🏆 Trophy Husband 🏆>> 🔫🔫🔫 LIKE FUN TABLOID NEWS OR FAMILY NEWS

00:14 <<pays taxes like a chump>> family news kinda

---

Bane can't help but stare at you. "Yer serious."

You nod, mouth set in a line. "I got the blood test this morning," you say. "Roaring positive."

His stomach churns. His head feels fuzzy. His knees lock up and, fortunately, you give him a light shove onto the couch so he doesn't just stand there gawping like an idiot.

He sinks into the cushion, willing it to absorb him. He can't deal with this right now. And yet, based on the cross of your arms and the purse of your lips, he has to.

"So what're ya gonna do?" he mumbles.

You flop next to him. "I don't know," you say. “I wanted to talk to you first.” You give a dry smile. “It’s as much your fault as it is mine.”

Were he a softer man, the conflict on your face would be heartbreaking. He knows what's going through your mind -- you love kids. You love your kid. You love his kid. You'd love nothing more than to have another one running around.

And yet, you're not a fool. You're a criminal married to a crook. Another baby is another liability, another weak link in the chain. Not to mention the havoc it'd wreak on your body.

He's no fool either. The first time was hard enough. He doesn't know if he could handle another mouth to feed. Another diaper to change. Another heart running around outside his body. Another living, breathing creature to constantly worry about--

"Daddy?"

He glances up. A tiny shadow peeks around the corner, red eyes glowing. Speak of the Devil and she’ll appear, her blanket draped around her head and shoulders like a Jedi's robe.

He can't help but smile. He sits up from his slouch and leans forward. "Evenin', li'l miss," he says with a tip of his hat. "It's past yer bedtime."

"Heard talkin'." She yawns, her little needle teeth glinting in the light. She rubs her eyes with the heel of her palm. "Wanted to say hi."

He pats his knee. "Come say it, den."

She lets out a happy trill and toddles over, bare feet slapping against the tile. She hauls herself up into his lap and nestles right against his belly.

He lays a hand on her head, stroking his fingertips along her brow ridges. The purrs start immediately, sounding exactly like when Todo's rotor spins out.

You shift closer to him and lay your head on his shoulder. You've got that expression on his face that he still can't put words to. Serene? Motherly? Exhausted? He has no idea. But whenever she purrs, that's the look you get.

A few moments pass. Maybe more than a few. Long enough that the Little Lady falls back asleep and nearly pitches forward off of the sofa.

You swoop in like a mynock before she hits the ground, catching her with your nimble hands. The sudden jolt scares her, but your tone is gently jovial. "Silly girl," you chide as you stand. "Back to bed before you bump your head."

She keeps her eyes fixed on him as her lips curl into a sneer. "No."

Bane can't help but chuckle. She looks as ferocious as a loth-kitten. "Gotta get yer rest, girl."

Her sneer fades into a frown. "But... But you've been gone so long. I wanna sit with you."

Ow. Right in the heart. He knew she'd be a crack shot, but not like this.

"Daddy will still be here in the morning. Right?" You give him a pointed look, and he nods. "Let's get you tucked in."

The girl hesitates. Her eyes fall on Bane, and she reaches out her arm. "...Can Daddy tuck me in too?"

A golden warmth swells his chest. Plucking his hat from his head, he places it on the caf table as he stands. "'Course he can."

She chirrups happily and settles into your arms, her eyes drifting closed. You smile at her, then at him. "Talk after?" He nods, and you head for the stairs.

Another pair of feet pitter-pattering around. Another set of tiny clothes. Another little baby in his arms, small and sweet and chirping as it stares at its daddy. Not caring who he is or what he does.

His gut stops churning as he follows you up the stairs.

He still likes the name Winrel.

---

"Catch Us If You Can Masterpost" | To the Mastahpost | Tip Jar

[bountyhunter-s-bane]

in the Force

Pairing: Cad Bane x M!Reader (ex-Jedi)

--

You survived Order 66 by the skin of your teeth, hiding from the clones that turned on you and your teacher. As far as you’re aware, you’re alone and the galaxy seems out to get you.

Bounty hunting ends up being the easiest path for you to take. You’re a soldier and fighter, although people are far different stock from droids.

You’re aware that bounties are being put out for any jedi caught. But then again, no-one would suspect a bounty hunter for being a jedi themselves. It’s the perfect cover.

The Force always seems to be tugging at you, but you manage to play it all off as coincidence, or pure luck.

You know of Cad Bane by reputation alone - plenty of stories of how he infiltrated the Jedi Temple, how he fought Knights and Masters alike and managed to get away.

Maybe it’s only fair that he ends up working with you on a contract that calls in multiple bounty hunters.

Off the bat he reckons something funky is up. There’s lucky and then there’s you and something doesn’t add quite right (like how your blaster shot nailed that guard or how the droid seemed to trip and fall so conveniently).

(Of course you’re not actively trying to use these abilities, they’re just so in your blood that you can’t not do them)

But you help him net a high score, and you don’t grate on him like other hunters. So he asks you to join him on another contract.

And then another.

And another.

One time he comments on the uptick in price of a captured jedi these days and he swears he sees you flinch. Part of him is more curious about it but he’s more interested in keeping his partner around.

He calls you ‘winrel’ when the pair of you net a high score without much loss on tools or ship repairs.

He also calls you ‘baniss’ sometimes, when it’s just the two of you alone.

Sometimes, in crowded places, the Force becomes abuzz and it’s a maddening presence in the back of your skull. But you find Cad, and he puts a hand on your shoulder and says “Easy, lad.” And the buzzing is quieter.

Cad can’t describe it but your presence makes everything work better too. Like your ‘luck’ is rubbing off on him. Or maybe it’s because he likes you (more than he’d admit aloud).

He doesn’t know when it clicks, but he already knows the truth before you catch him from a surprise booby trap into a catastrophic fall. You’re afraid when you lift him out.

“Why’d you got that face, huh? I didn’ die, didn’ I? Let’s go see if we can’t go repay that lil surprise,” he tells you.

Later, when you’re back on his freighter, and you’re fidgety to confront him but afraid to do so, he just says, “You’re my man, alrigh’. You take care of me, I take care of you. That’s how it goes.”

You’re his jedi and that’s worth more credits that the bounty on you.

[sporadicthingcollection]

“🎵Sha la la la la la la la la la ti da~🎵”

Bambi’s a musical li’l guy, even when he’s not so li’l anymore. He likes string instruments mostly — easier to bring along places. Momma always asks him to play some old crooner songs and he’s happy to oblige.

[sporadicthingcollection]

Prompt: Dad Cad and his kids coming home/caught sneaking home drunk for the first time. They got it from their mom. Hilarity ensues. A hint of walk of shame maybe? 🤔

The Bounty Hunter’s Guide to: Breaking Curfew

Summary: In which the Little Lady stays out a little late, Bambi operates flight machinery under the influence, and Bane nearly wears a rut in the floor.

Pairing: Cad Bane x F!Reader

Word Count: ~1.6k

Rating: General.

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol, nonconsensual drug use

---

Bane has spent an unhealthy amount of time taming his nervous tics. He's as cool as can be at all times -- no lip biting, no finger tapping, no pattern to his toothpick gnawing. He is completely unreadable in the face of an adversary.

...in the face of two missing kids, however, he might as well be a neon billboard.

His leg joggles. He drums his fingertips together. He bats his toothpick between the corners of his mouth with his tongue.

He wishes you were here and not out burgling trade secrets from an arms manufacturer. You'd know what to do. You're much better with the whole 'kids will be kids' thing. You call it mother's intuition but as far as he's concerned, it's extrasensory.

Like when you let the kids walk to the corner store for the first time. They took a bit too long getting home and he was convinced they'd been kidnapped. Turns out there was construction and they had to take a detour.

Or when they stole his gun belt. He was furious, but you told him to cool it. Turns out they were getting a nicer one made and needed the sizing right.

Somehow, you're always right about these things. He could use that assurance.

Part of him is relieved it's both of them missing and not just the Little Lady. Cold, perhaps, but she's fifty kilos soaking wet and just as pretty as you are. An easy target for an unsavory type.

Bambi, on the other hand, is sixteen years old, already taller than his daddy, and built like an upside down tortilla chip. He’s more than capable of protecting his big sister.

They're probably fine. He knows this. And yet here he sits, bouncing his leg and tapping his fingers and chewing his toothpick. 

Sometimes he wonders when he went so damn soft. Was it when you handed him his son, minutes old and still covered in blood and amniotic fluid? Was it when he first laid eyes on the Little Lady, small and sweet and unmistakably his?

No, it was when he gave you that head start on Nal Hutta, all those years ago. Just moments after he fell ass over teakettle for you.

A hard thunk from the balcony catches his attention. He jumps to his feet, hand hovering above his blaster.

He sneaks over to the door and silently slides it open. He steps out and into the shadows. The sun is just barely peeking over the horizon and there's still plenty of dark to conceal him.

A pale blue light grows brighter, accompanied by angry, slurred muttering. "...piece o' shit railin' an' boots an' fuck-all everythin' everywhere..."

The second voice is more enunciated. “Just shut up and try to stay even.”

A pair of thin hands grab the railing, and the Little Lady hauls herself atop the railing. She reaches downwards, but is rebuffed. Bambi tries to swing a gangly leg over the railing, only to get himself stuck. He taps at his wristcom to deactivate his boots, and the blue glow fades.

Bane watches him try to get over the railing. Slurred words, lack of coordination... The kid's drunk as an acid skunk.

The Little Lady tries to help, but Bambi shoos her away. “ ‘m fine. I can do it--”

“You’re gonna fall and break your neck is what you're gonna do,” she replies.

“ ‘m fine. S’all fine,” he slurs. He gets himself upright enough to straddle the railing. He lets out a dopey giggle. “Heh. Speeder. Nyoom...!”

He starts to tip and the Little Lady darts her hand out to snatch him by the back of the collar. "Shut up before Daddy hears you," she hisses.

And there's his cue. He tosses his toothpick away. "Li'l late fer dat," he says, stepping out of the shadows.

The Little Lady yips in surprise and whirls around. Bambi tries to reach for his blaster, but he's not wearing his holsters and he grabs air. He twists to find them and falls backwards over the balcony without a sound.

The Little Lady's hands fly to her mouth and her eyes go wide. "Oh shit."

Bane touches her shoulder to calm her. He tosses his chin at Bambi rising back over the balcony, a little rattled but no worse for wear.

"I knew it!" His hover is unsteady, and he struggles to keep himself upright. "Yer tryna flip-icide me!"

Bane raises a brow. He watches carefully as Bambi gets up and over the edge, landing in a heap of gangly limbs on the ground. Satisfied that the boy is safe, he turns his attention back to the Little Lady.

"Yer curfew's midnight," he says simply.

She bristles slightly. "It's not my fault!" she says. "He kept wandering off and I had to chase after him." The bristles fade as she crosses her arms. "He's completely zonked. He can barely walk."

Bambi makes a horrific retching noise, and the putrid smell of acid fills the air.

Bane's stomach churns, but he keeps his own dinner down. "Get one of de shitty towels and meet me in de downstairs 'fresher."

---

He feels a bit bad throwing Bambi into a cold shower fully clothed. But it'll wash him off and sober him up enough to function.

At least his whining is funny.

"Why do you hate me," Bambi grumbles, looking for all the galaxy like a kicked puppy.

Bane snickers to himself. "Suck it up."

"You suck it up." Bambi tries to grab a bar of soap -- your citrus-scented one, Bane notices -- only for it to shoot out of his grip. He grabs it again, only for the same thing to happen. He gives Bane a pathetic look. "Soap's broke."

Maker's sake. "Arms up, kid."

Bambi obeys and Bane lifts the shirt up and over his head. Tossing it into the laundry, he grabs the soap and gets to work.

He intends to manhandle the boy a bit. Treat him like everybody else he's had to clean up after a rowdy night out. Rough in his scrubbing and half-ass it enough to make it clear he'd done it begrudgingly. 

But he doesn't.

A gentle touch comes unbidden, the same he used when Bambi was five years old and so sick with virid flu that he couldn't even keep water down. You had put him in the bathtub while you called a doctor, leaving Bane to mind him.

The poor kid was too exhausted to even cry. Just sit there and stare sadly at his little feet, eyes puffy from a lack of sleep, and occasionally retch up nothing.

Bane gave that boy the greatest bath of all time. Used the nicest soap, the softest washcloth, the warmest water. Bambi was dead asleep when the doctor finally showed up, bundled in a fluffy towel and smelling like a rose bush.

But Bambi isn't a baby anymore, and Bane knows this. He just cleans what he has to as gently as he can -- chest, neck, and chin.

Bambi doesn't say a word for a long time. Bane thinks it's out of embarrassment until he actually does speak.

"S'not my fault," he murmurs. "Only had two... But the secon' one wass... Had t’ve been spiked. Hit like a freighter."

"Gotta watch what ya drink, boy."

The retort comes in the form of a snore. Bane looks up to see Bambi's eyes closed and his jaw slack. His chest rises and falls in rhythm.

He can't help but chuckle. Switching off the shower, he leaves the boy to sleep it off.

---

Like you, the Little Lady eats when she's troubled. Also like you, she tends to go for cold cuts straight from the package. Today, it's the capicola.

He catches her mid chew, her eyes going wide as her jaw stops moving. A little spray of green dusts her cheeks, and she swallows. "So ya gonna rip me a new one, or...?"

"Don't see why I should." He peels a slice of the meat from the butcher paper and takes a bite. "Ain't yer fault yer brother got drugged."

She slumps. "It was meant for me," she says quietly. "The guy brought us two beers and I gave Bambi the one meant for me, just in case." She picks at the edge of the paper. "It wasn't right, I know, but the guy was greasy and I couldn't figure out a way to get rid of it and Bambi's got a hundred pounds on me--"

"Yer brother's smarter'n he looks," he says. "He probably knew and did it anyways 'cause he knew he could take it."

The Little Lady lets out a breath like she'd been holding it all night. "You think?"

He nods and eats another slice of capicola. "Ask him in de mornin'," he says. He levels a finger at her. "Regardless, ya owe him one."

She nods. "I know." She examines a slice of meat. "Are you gonna tell Momma?"

"What's it worth to ya?"

The Little Lady narrows her eyes. "You're seriously asking for hush money?"

He gives her a wry smile. "Doesn't have to be money. Could be time, could be a favor..."

"I already owe Bambi a favor," she grumbles. "And I don't like owin' too many people favors at de same time, so I got no choice. How much ya want?"

It always makes him laugh when he sees himself in her. The voice of an old crook, coming from the mouth of a young teenybopper. "Most I'll ask for is yer allowance," he says. "Somethin' like thirty creds?"

She curls her lip, but snatches her purse from its hook and roots through it. She finds the credits and plunks them down on the table. Shoving a piece of capicola into her mouth, she glowers half-heartedly at him as she chews.

He chuckles and pockets the money. "Pleasure doin' business, li'l lady."

"Up yer nose," she grumbles.

He decides to let that one slide.

---

"Catch Us If You Can Masterpost" | To the Mastahpost | Tip Jar

[sporadicthingcollection]

a scenario: the kids are very young and have been put to bed, and Cad and Irno have some alone time in their room. maybe one of the kids has a nightmare / cant sleep and walks in on them? (theyre covered ofc)

This was a fun one! Thanks!

The Bounty Hunter's Guide to: Homecoming

Summary: In which the Little Lady and her brother have impeccably poor timing.

Pairing: Cad Bane x F!Reader

Words: 1.6k

Rating: Semi-Explicit

Warnings: None!

Cad Bane has always lived for the chase. The thrill of putting a laser bolt between his quarry's eyes, the satisfaction of seeing the numbers in his account go up, and, occasionally, the sadistic glee of stabbing his employer in the back to make those numbers go even higher.

He used to feel empty when a job was over. But now he has something to look forward to, something to fill in the gaps.

Namely, his dear ol' lady and a pair of happy little accidents.

He lands silently on the balcony of the bedroom and peers inside. You're fast asleep -- on his side of the bed, he notices. He smiles to himself as he slides the door open and steps inside.

He pulls his boots and breathing apparatus off and hangs his hat on the bedpost before sneaking over to you. You sleep so peacefully. He's often envious.

He brushes your silky hair away from your ear. "Yer in my spot, missus," he rumbles.

You let out a peep. "Sorry," you say. You shimmy over to your side with no fuss.

Bane is a little disappointed. He was hoping for a happy squeak and a fat kiss and a frantic, lusty fuck.

Ah, whatever. Morning sex is better anyways.

He slips in beside you, sliding one arm under your neck and the other wrapping around your waist. He buries his face in your hair and breathes deeply. He missed your smell--

You jolt away from him, a surprised shriek escaping you as you whirl around. You stare at him wide-eyed with your hand on your chest.

"Hi," he says, giving a lazy wave.

You don't waste a second. You fling yourself on him and slam your mouth against his, immediately shoving your tongue between his lips.

"You -- scared -- the shit outta me," you say between kisses.

Your mouth is so hot and warm that his cock immediately springs to attention. "I missed ya too."

He rolls his hips against yours, making sure you feel his entire length. Every ridge, every throb, every last bit of him that was deprived of you.

"I was about to go crazy," you say. You sit up on your knees and ruck up the hem of your nightgown. "I was just so... So desperate!"

You're about to toss the garment over your head when there's a knock at the door. "Momma?" a little voice calls. "You okay?"

"Just fine, pumpkin!" You glance at the door, then back at him. "Should I let her know?" you whisper.

He shakes his head. "Fuck no. Yer mine tonight," he purrs. He wraps his arms around you and presses his face against your neck, inhaling deeply.

So feminine. So flowery. So familiar.

His tongue is out of his mouth before he even realizes it, sliding up the sinew of your neck to your earlobe. He's so used to your pearl studs that it's strange to see nothing adorning them.

You squeak again. You clap your hands over your mouth, but the damage is done.

"...are ya sure?" the Little Lady calls again.

You give him a mildly annoyed look. He shrugs and you roll your eyes. "Yes, honey. Go back to bed."

An even littler voice joins her. "What's goin'..." Bambi cuts himself off with a loud yawn. "What's goin' on?"

"Momma was makin' noise. I got worried, but she says she's fine."

"An' ya believed her?!" Bambi asks in alarm. "What if one o' them changelings got in or something?! It might not be her!"

You raise a brow at Bane. "I didn't tell him about that."

Bane thinks. It must have come up when he told them about breaking into the Jedi Temple... He sincerely hopes that it wasn't the origin of a deep-seated fear for the poor kid.

He rubs the bridge of his rostrum. Now he's definitely not getting any. "Mighta slipped out on my end," he murmurs.

"Bambi, that's the dumbest thing I've ever heard," the Little Lady says. "Let's go back to bed."

"But what if we're next?!" His teddy bantha squeaks as he, presumably, clutches it. "What if ya get up tomorrow an' I'm not me? Or you're not you?"

You let out a snrrk sound and Bane glances at you. You're biting your lip to stop yourself from laughing. It's a cute look.

The Little Lady is quiet for a few long seconds. "Well, alright," she says. "I guess it wouldn't hurt to check."

Old habits die hard and Bane jumps off of the bed to hide. But he pauses. This is his place. Those are his kids. What's he doing?

"We can't go in there! Momma and Daddy said to never go in without knocking," Bambi says.

That actually makes Bane snicker. Polite to a fault, that one.

He can practically hear the glare in the girl's voice. "Bambi, you're a moron," she says.

"Yer a moron!" he fires back.

You heave a massive sigh. "Guess we're having company," you mutter. You glance at him and toss your chin at his still hard cock. "Might wanna kill that."

Probably a good idea. As you climb out of bed, he lays back and thinks unsexy thoughts. Third-degree blaster wounds. A six-figure bar tab. Your mother in a bikini.

...Actually, that one's not so bad. But it's actively defeating the purpose of the exercise.

You open the door and dim light spills into the room along with the sound of bickering siblings. "Enough, you two," you say. "I'm not a changeling."

Bambi jumps in front of his sister, holding his teddy bantha like a shield. "Prove it. What's my... Um..." He glances at the Little Lady. "What's somethin' Momma knows?"

"I dunno. How her and Daddy met?"

You let out your chirpy laugh. "Nice try, kid. You're not getting that one until you're older. Try again."

The Little Lady slumps a bit, but purses her lips in thought. "What's Momma's pistol say? The one that Daddy gave her?"

And there's his cue. He hops to his feet and strolls over to the door. "'Anytime, any place, anywhere,'" he says, placing his hands on your waist. "Proposed to her with dat line."

Two little faces light up like Coruscant in the evening. "Daddy!"

They spring into his arms and he's just barely able to catch both of them. The Little Lady throws her arms around his neck and Bambi clings to his chest like a baby monkey lizard, both purring loudly.

You smile and put your hands on your hips. "Wish I got that kind of welcome when I get home," you say.

"You're never gone as long as he is," the Little Lady says.

She grabs his cheek and turns him towards her. She presses her rostrum against his hard enough that he feels the cartilage flex.

A fuzzy, golden warmth fills his chest, overflowing into his belly and seeping into his toes. Such a sweet girl.

Bambi is next, smooshing his rostrum into the hollow of Bane's cheek. "Missed you," he says quietly.

He basks in the warmth for a few moments. Such sweet little things came from him, he muses. Less than a day ago, he shot a man in the temple just because he got a little too close at the cantina bar.

The galaxy is such an ironic place, he thinks.

You clear your throat. "Where's my kiss?" you ask in mock offense.

"Ya already got one," he says.

"Yeah, one. You're getting two. Where's my second one?"

He chuckles. Carefully, he pries the little ones off of him and sets them on the ground. Placing his hands on your waist, he swings you into a dip and gives you a firm kiss.

It's a great kiss. Loving and warm and passionate.

Both of the kids make sounds of disgust. He pulls away to chide them, only for you brush your hand dismissively at the kids and pull him back in.

---

He wakes up to the light thump-thump of two small feet hitting the floor.

"I'll help," the Little Lady whispers.

He opens an eye to see her lifting her brother off of the bed and setting him on the ground. They tiptoe out the door, closing it behind him.

"Where're dey headed?" he asks.

You roll over to drape your arms around his chest. "Making us breakfast, I think," you murmur into the space between his shoulder blades. "So we've got at least ten minutes before they figure out they don't know how to make pancakes."

You hook your leg around his as your hand drifts down to his rumpled trousers. His cock twitches from the warmth alone, and he lets out a deep rumble.

"Careful, missus." He pushes up against your hand, letting you feel his hardness. "Might get me randy."

You wriggle upwards to whisper into his ear. "Is that a promise?"

You always know just what to say. He rolls over and on top of you, pinning you to the bed. You grin up at him.

"Ya really don't know what yer playin' with." He grabs his cock through his trousers, fondling it gently.

"Don't I?" you ask, batting your lashes. "A desperately horny man who hasn't seen his lovely woman in weeks?"

He licks his lips, letting out another rumble. "Get dat gown off 'fore I rip it off."

"Yes sir," you say. You try to sit up and move your arms, but he refuses to unpin you. "Cad, move."

"Nah." Grabbing the front of your gown, he yanks. The fabric tears easily, and he's left holding tatters. He dives in before you have the chance to object.

Home sweet home.

---

"Catch Us If You Can Masterpost" | To the Mastahpost | Tip Jar

[sporadicthingcollection]

What if Cad and Irno’s third “oops” baby ended up being twins instead of just one? Food for thought ;)

goddammit now the anons have a mindreading ray >:(

---

Sixteen hours. It took you sixteen hours to squeeze this baby out. But it's out, it's chirping up a storm, and Cad Bane is going to murder someone if he can't make it stop.

Bane pushes past Bambi and the Little Lady to get to you first -- you're his girl and you just had his baby. He should be the first to see you.

He can tell from the glassy eyes and the grin on your face that you're zonked out of your mind on painkillers. "Caaaad!" you warble. "Look what I made!"

You hold out the chirping bundle, and he takes it.

He'd been nervous since he found out you were pregnant again. He's an old man at this point; he shouldn't be fertile anymore. What if it wasn't his? What if you'd been unfaithful?

But all doubt vanishes when the itty bitty Duros cracks its eyes to squint at him. Something clicks in its mind and its eyes go wide, anxious little chirps escaping it as it tries to squirm out of its swaddle.

He can't help but crack a smile. "Easy, li'l one, easy." The chirps calm as he holds it to his chest. "Boy or girl?"

"'S a girl," you slur. "Sorry, Bambi."

Bambi, however, is the exact opposite of upset. He pumps his fist and turns to his sister, grinning. With a roll of her eyes, she passes him a handful of credits.

"I tolja," he says. "I tolja I tolja I tolja--"

"Bambi, shut up," Bane says gently. "Let yer momma rest. She's had a rough day."

You giggle. "Bambi. S'funny. Bambi lambi. Bambi pambi..."

Behind a curtain, he hears your mother. "She's been giggling for the last hour."

He hears Dr. Trenma, too. "This one's slightly underweight, but given her size, that's normal," she says.

Bane turns to show the older kids. Bambi squints his eyes at her. "She's... Really green."

"Dilated blood vessels," he says. "She'll blue up in a few hours."

The Little Lady sighs wistfully. "I wish I could have kids," she says.

"Fuck no ya don't!" you say. "Squeezin' you four out hurt like a bitch!"

He chuckles. They must have given you the really good stuff.

The Little Lady smiles a little, but something behind him catches her attention. She furrows her brows. "Uh, Daddy...?"

He's too enamoured with the Littlest Lady to look up. "What?"

Bambi looks up too. His expression mirrors his sister's. "Hey, that's..."

Someone clears their throat. He turns to see your mother holding another bundle while Dr. Trenma dries her hands on a towel.

Bane raises a brow. "Extra blankets?"

The other blankets chirp. Mrs. Favara approaches him, pulling back the corner. A second little Duros is dead asleep, its mouth slightly open.

He frowns at her. "And dis is...?"

"Your other daughter," she says with a smirk.

He looks over his shoulder. The Little Lady is standing right behind him. He jabs his thumb at her. "Mez is right dere," he says.

She keeps smirking. "Congratulations, you're the father of twins."

He turns to the doctor. "What's she on about?"

Dr. Trenma takes a deep, deep breath. "To make a long story short," she says, "the fertilized egg split at one point and two fetuses developed. Hence, two babies identical down to the nucleotides."

"Dat ain't possible. Ain't enough room in de egg fer two. Shell ain't flexible enough."

"For a Duros female, sure." She tosses the towel into a hamper. "Zeltrons, however, have very wide pelvises..."

"Birthin' hips!" you shout. "Thanks, Mom!"

Bane doesn't believe it. Refuses to believe it. He's only vaguely heard of a "twin" and never from a Duros. Some other Zeltron-Dutos couple must be here and your mother thought to put one over on him with it.

The second baby opens her eyes. Crimson peeks out, and she peers around as if to assess the situation.

Intelligent eyes. Hunter's eyes. His eyes.

He suddenly feels like he ate a bag of cotton balls. His stomach, his throat, his mouth, his ears, all filled with densely packed fuzz. He tries to speak, but nothing comes out.

"Looks like vasovagal syncope." Dr. Trenma points at Bambi. "Grab a chair for him."

The boy scoots a seat behind him just as his knees collapse. He flops into the chair numbly.

Two babies. Three daughters. Four kids.

"...Does this mean I get double?" Bambi says.

"No way!" The Little Lady hisses.

He lets your mother place the second baby into his arms. The baby stares at him, narrow-eyed, then gives a single tentative chirp.

Instinct takes over. He holds them both close, let them hear his heartbeat.

Dr. Trenma lets out a relieved sigh. "Paternal rumbling. The bonding process has already begun."

"I ain't rumblin'," he mutters half-heartedly. Two babies. Three daughters. Four kids.

"Glad he likes 'em," you say. You've hauled yourself upright to sit against the headboard. You make grabby hands. "Now tell 'im to give 'em back."

With shaky legs, he stands and deposits the little ones into your arms. "I gotta get some fresh air," he murmurs.

He leaves you and the kids to coo over the little ones while he takes a walk.

Two babies. Three daughters. Four kids.

He needs a few hours to come to terms with this. And a few good stiff drinks.

---

"Catch Us If You Can Masterpost" | To the Mastahpost | Tip Jar

[sporadicthingcollection]

Your dad Bane fics are to die for, like I’m binge reading them! So I came up with a thingie: how would the kids and Bane react to a surprise baby? Would Bambi finally get it and Lil Lady gag? XD I have no idea about Banes reaction, I think he might be a bit proud as everything still works despite being ”old” in some standards.

Aww, thank you! I’m so glad you’re enjoying them. :3

The thing is, nobody would be surprised. Nearly every person in this family is an oops baby. Momma was an oops, the Little Lady was an oops, Bambi was an oops...

It's 'oops' all the way down with these people.

---

He's elbow-deep in Justifier guts with the Little Lady, Bambi holding the flashlight, when his personal comm goes off. He lets it ring -- whatever it is you want can wait -- but it keeps beeping.

"Grab it, boy," he says.

Bambi does as he's told and grabs the cylinder from his father's belt. Smiling like a tooka-cat, he clicks the button. "Bane here," he says in his best imitation of his father.

It's pretty good. Scarily good. Enough to fool even you. "Cad, remind me again: when do Duros become infertile?" you ask. Your voice is dry and barely concealing its agitation.

Confused, Bambi holds the comm out to Bane. He leans towards it as much as he can without losing his grip on the lubricant tube he's pinching off. "'Round fifty."

You ignore him. "And how old are you?"

“Old,” the Little Lady quips. Bambi giggles behind her.

Bane shows her his teeth. “Pushin’ fifty-seven. Why?”

“Because I’m pregnant again, you son of a bitch!”

Well, he certainly wasn't expecting that. So much so that he momentarily loses his grip and lubricant splatters all over his shirt. "What?!"

"That last fertile period wasn't a dud," you spit.

Bambi furrows his brows. "Fertile period?" he asks his sister.

The girl just pulls a face, her rostrum scrunching up in disgust. “Ech.”

Bane shoots her a dirty look. “Don’t ‘ew,’ missy. It’ll happen to both o’ ya.”  He returns his attention to the comm. "Ain't possible. Either a faulty test or yer makin' a cuckold outta me."

The second that half-jesting accusation leaves his mouth, he regrets it immediately.

“Excuse me?” you say in disbelief. “Care to repeat that?”

The Little Lady’s grimace deepens, and Bambi just looks even more confused. “That’s a bird, right? Why’s Daddy a bird? And why’s Momma mad?”

He wants to shush her before she tells him, but you’re too busy cursing up a storm in Zeltrian and she’s whispering in his ear before he can stop her.

Bambi quirks his brow at her. “Wait, that’s what they’re doing?” She nods solemnly, and his frown deepens. “But it’s, like, every night.” She winces, then nods again. “So then how come it’s just the two of us?”

Bane rubs his temples. On one hand, Daddy’s still got it. That’s a pretty satisfying feeling. And it’s proof that you’re still as gorgeous as he keeps saying you are.

On the other, between the adolescent biology lesson in the corner and your angry Zeltrian... it’s gonna be a long day.

---

"Catch Us If You Can Masterpost" | To the Mastahpost | Tip Jar

[sporadicthingcollection]

As we've seen before, the Little Lady likes to do makeup on Todo, so I bet she loves doing makeup on Bambi too (even against his will). And when he goes to complain to his parents, none of them are able to punish her. Because Irno thinks Bambi looks adorable in makeup and Cad finds the situation hilarious.

The Bounty Hunter's Guide to: Makeup

Summary: In which the Little Lady gets a little creative, and Bambi gets shanghai'd into it.

Pairing: Cad Bane x F!Reader

Rating: General.

Word Count: ~1.8k

Warnings: None!

---

The sound of Duros younglings fighting is a very distinct one: lots of spitting and hissing. It sounds a bit like a broken speaker, especially when the ‘fresher bathtub amplifies everything.

Fortunately, they're very easy to break up. Just wait a moment and...

Bane reaches into the scuffle and snatches both kids by the tops of their heads, lifting them up off of the floor. Little spitfires that they are, they both keep swinging and it takes a sharp whistle for them to stop.

"De hell is goin' on?" he asks.

Bambi points at his sister. "She hit me!"

"'Cause ya said I made ya look dumb!" the girl fires back.

They start thrashing at each other again. This time Bane hisses, showing his fangs at both of them. The Little Lady's eyes go wide and she shrinks into her shoulders, and Bambi lets out a submissive chirp.

He feels bad scaring them like that, but sometimes it's the only thing he can do. "Ya gonna start fightin' again?" They shake their heads. He sets both of them down on the floor. He turns to the Little Lady. "Tell me what happened."

She takes a deep breath. "I was playin' with Momma's makeup but my face was gettin' sore so I asked Bambi if I could put it on him an' he said yeah but he got mad when I finished an' said he looked dumb!"

"And dat's when ya hit him?" She nods, and he sighs.

He turns to Bambi to get his side of the story, but before he can say anything, Bane realizes that Bambi... doesn't look right. Red stuff smeared across his thin lips, pink powder covering his cheeks and rostrum, and a pair of dark, uneven lines drawn on the peaks of his brows.

...Yeah, that looks pretty dumb.

He claps his hand over his mouth before his honk of a laugh can escape, but it's too late. Bambi's face scrunches up in resignation and the Little Lady stamps her foot.

"It's not funny!" they both squeak.

They’re right. It's hilarious.

Fortunately, you enter before he can actually lose his shit. You quirk you brow at him, and he jabs his thumb at Bambi. Your hands immediately go to your mouth.

“Bambino mio!” you coo. You drop to your knees and pull the boy into your arms. “Oh, you are the cutest little thing!”

Bambi hisses half-heartedly, but doesn’t struggle to get away. He slumps into your embrace and quietly glares at his sister, who now looks immensely proud of herself.

“Don’t think yer off de hook, li’l lady,” he scolds. “Ya still hit yer brother.”

She slumps, and you raise your eyebrows. “Is that what this is about?” He nods, and you frown at her. “Seriously?” you ask dryly.

“But he said--!”

“I don’t care what he said,” you say. “You don’t hit people. You know better.”

Bane leans against the doorjamb. “How’d ya like it if I smacked you around when I was mad?”

She huffs. “Momma’d kick yer butt if ya did...” she mutters.

He has to bite back a chuckle at that. There is absolutely no doubt in his mind that you’d beat the blue off of him if he laid a finger on either of them. “Ain’t de question, missy.”

She blinks, then slumps. “I wouldn’t like it.”

“You’d be scared of me, wouldn’t ya?” She nods. “Ya want yer baby brother to be scared of ya?” She shakes her head, and he gestures at her. “So what’cha gonna do?”

The Little Lady fiddles with the hem of her dress. “‘M’sorry,” she mumbles.

“Ya didn’t hit me.”

She huffs again, but turns to Bambi. She gently taps his shoulder, and peers at her. “Sorry I hit you,” she says.

Bambi glances at you, and you release him. “S’okay. I said somethin’ mean,” he says. Gently, he bops her on the shoulder. “We’re even.”

The Little Lady smiles, and the tension in the air dissipates. She bops him back, and they start a little play fight, flailing their hands at each other as they giggle.

You separate them before it escalates into another actual fight. “Alright, enough,” you say as you stand. You point at the Little Lady. “You’re still getting punished, though.”

Bane nods. “Todo’s chassis could use some polishin’.”

You nod. “Sound fair, Donnina?”

“I guess,” she mumbles. “...could I do it now to get it over with?”

Bane glances at you, and you nod. He nods back. “I’ll show ya where de rags are. Go grab ‘im an’ bring ‘im outside.”

She slinks off, slipping past Bane. Bambi rubs at his eyes, trying to get the makeup off. “I hate this,” he mutters. You whisper something into his ear, and his brows furrow. “Wait, really?”

You nod sagely. “I know.” You lift him up onto the edge of the ‘fresher sink. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

He’s about to ask what you told him when he hears Todo’s whirring. He leaves you to your cleaning, but not before committing the boy’s look to his long-term memory.

---

He promised himself he wasn’t going to “groom” the kids into bounty hunters. It’s a tough life and they deserve better, despite how good your genes and his might match up and create the perfect criminal.

But he can’t help but treat even simple play as training sometimes. Like tossing a plastic ball back and forth. Exactly like throwing grenades, albeit with less chance of losing a finger or two.

“Don’t toss it so high,” he instructs. “Throw it at me in a straight line, right fer my chest.”

Bambi nods. He pitches the ball, an overhand toss that he doesn’t follow through on. It goes to the left and hits the ground, and Bane snatches it up before it can roll off of the balcony.

“Accuracy, kid. Not distance.” He throws the ball at Bambi’s chest -- difficult when the boy is barely a meter tall, but he’s hit smaller targets with smaller projectiles.

Bambi catches the ball easily, but he huffs. “How can ya throw it so straight?” he asks.

“Follow through.” Bambi cocks his head. Bane thinks for a moment. “Ya know how shockballers lift a leg off de ground when dey throw?” Bambi nods. “Dat’s follow through.”

Bambi nods. He winds up the throw and gives it a toss. Better distance, but it still goes to the left and he lifts his leg too high. His foot slips out from underneath him and he lands on his face with a squeak. He pops right back up, though. “I’m okay!”

Bane snickers as he picks up the ball. “Good. Yer momma’d never let me hear de end of it if ya weren’t.” He tosses the ball back to Bambi. “Don’t lean into it so much dis time.”

The boy nods and winds up. The sound of the front door opening catches Bane’s attention, and he turns to look.

Plastic hits metal. Pain explodes in his head and a burst of red blinds him for a moment. His thighs give out and he collapses to the ground, spitting curses.

It’s only a few moments, fortunately. His vision returns, replaced by Bambi’s worried little face.

“I’m so sorry,” he sputters. “I didn’t mean to hit yer head. I was aimin’ at yer chest but--”

Bane waves his hand, partly out of dismissal and partly out of annoyance. He clambers to his feet, using the railing for support. He takes a moment to catch his breath, to try and dull the throbbing in his head.

Bambi watches with his big ol’ eyes, brow knit up in worry. “You okay...?”

Bane nods. He squeezes his eyes shut. Inhale, hold for three, then exhale.

A few cycles of that and the pain ebbs away. He becomes aware of a weight on his leg and peers down to see Bambi hugging his waist. He places his palm on the crown of the boy’s head. He peers up at him, still worried, but it quickly turns to relief.

“Sorry, Daddy,” he murmurs.

“No harm done, kid,” Bane replies. “‘S’enough fer today.”

Bambi nods and picks up the ball, placing it into the basket of toys before opening the door back inside. He follows behind as Bane enters.

And he immediately regrets his decision.

A small cloud of girls is swarming around you as you sit on the sofa with your makeup box, including the Little Lady. You point at her. “You, grab some towels, cotton balls, and cold cream from the ‘fresher.” She trots off down the hall, and you point at a purple Togruta -- Sida, he thinks her name is. “You, move that lamp over here so we have some better light. Everyone else, cop a seat.”

It’s cute seeing you all authoritative, but Bane cocks a brow. “You one o’ dem makeup ladies now?”

You look up at him and blink. “Oh, I didn’t know you were here!” you chirp. “Say hi, girls.” A small chorus of ‘hi, Mr. Hud’ echoes through the living room. “Mez told everyone I was gonna give her a makeup lesson and she brought a few friends. And those friends brought a friend. And, uh, here we are.”

“Shoulda charged admission,” he says, crossing his arms.

Bambi pokes his head out from behind Bane, only to immediately withdraw.

The girls giggle, and you smile. “And little Winnie is going to be my handsome assistant,” you say.

The boy sticks his head back out, eyes wide. “Huh?”

You wink at him and wave him over. Cautiously, he steps out from behind his cover and makes his way over to the sofa. You lift him up to sit beside you.

A few of the girls coo. “Aw, he’s so sweet,” one of them says.

“I know! I just wanna smooch him.”

The sudden realization that he’s going to be the center of all these girls’ attention for the next few hours hits Bambi. His nervous look melts into a smitten smile, his eyes drooping half-shut.

Bane can’t help but chuckle. That boy’s gonna break every heart on the block.

He considers watching the lesson just to have an excuse to stare at you, but the throb in his head is starting to return. “Be layin’ down if ya need me,” he says.

He makes his way to the hall and nearly trips on the Little Lady as she comes hustling out of the ‘fresher, but she dodges him and slips under his arms. 

He leaves the bedroom door open just a crack, and he drifts off to the sound of your chirpy voice.

---

"Catch Us If You Can Masterpost" | To the Mastahpost | Tip Jar

[sporadicthingcollection]

Idea: How would Cad react to Hondo being introduced to The Little Lady, and Hondo immediately claiming her as his goddaughter/niece/future apprentice?

oh my god this is genius

The Bounty Hunter's Guide to: Job Training

Summary: In which the Little Lady bags a little bounty -- with some help, of course.

Pairing: Cad Bane x F!Reader

Words: ~3.1k

Rating: General

Warnings: Mild child endangerment.

---

"Are you sure about this?" you ask.

Bane sits on the edge of the bed, pulling his boots on. "Positive," he says. "Just want her to get a taste of it. See if she can really shoot. If she doesn't like it, den she goes back to appreciatin' her regular life."

You sit up and kiss his cheekbone. "Come back in one piece. Both of you."

He smiles to himself as you lay back down. It's nice to be worried about. He finishes lacing his boots up. "Always do, missus."

You pull the blankets up to your chin and let out a loud yawn. "Just get out of here before I change my mind and drag you back to bed."

He chuckles and stands. "Don't threaten me with a good time."

You poke a hand out to flap your fingers at him. He takes the hint.

He walks into the hallway. Todo hovers outside of the Little Lady's bedroom, clutching something in his fingers. He sees Bane and putters over.

"I tried to wake Miss Mezerel, but she refuses to get up," he says nervously. He holds up one of the Little Lady's shoes. "She threw this at me!"

The jogan really doesn't fall far from the tree. "Go get de speeder warmed up. I'll take care o' her."

"Yes sir." He hands Bane the shoe and putters off.

He enters the room and almost immediately steps on the other shoe. He gently kicks it to the side.

The Little Lady is cocooned tightly in her blankets. He'll never understand how she manages to sleep fully beneath the covers without the stale air getting to her.

He gives what he thinks is her shoulder a gentle poke. "Wake up, li'l lady," he says softly.

She lets out a sleepy trill and pokes her head out, red eyes blinking in the dark. And then a second head pokes out of her side, its red eyes also bleary.

He jumps, but once the shock wears off, he can't help but chuckle to himself. "Boy, what're you doin'?"

Bambi yawns loudly. "I was sleepin'," he says, "an' then ya woke me up."

"Yer supposed to be in yer room," Bane says.

Bambi casts his eyes downwards, but the Little Lady speaks up for him. "He got lonely," she murmurs. "Can I have five more minutes?"

Her eyes drift back closed, and he gives her rostrum a tap. "If ya wanna come, ya gotta get up."

She huffs, but does sit up. She wriggles out of her cocoon like a drowsy moth and stumbles over to the dresser, nearly tripping on toys at least twice.

He chuckles to himself again, then scoops Bambi up. "Let's give her some privacy."

Bambi doesn't say a word, just wraps his arms around his father's neck and buries his face in his shoulder. He lets out a little trill as he settles in.

Bane steps into the hallway. He stands there a moment in the darkness, feeling his son breathe, his thin chest rising and falling. His frame is so narrow now, with his baby fat almost gone. Muscle has yet to replace it.

He smiles a bit, thinking about what a little marshmallow the boy used to be. Chubby little arms with fat wrists and little jogan cheeks that dimpled when he smiled.

How time flies.

He considers putting the boy back in his own room, but has a better idea. He opens the door to the master bedroom and steps inside.

Carefully, he peels back the corner of the blanket, revealing your sleeping face. You don't stir as he slips Bambi inside and tucks the fabric up to the boy's chin.

He steps away into the darkness. Moments later, he hears a string of slurred, high-pitched Zeltrian and a surprised trill. Satisfied, he closes the door and heads for the kitchen.

Breakfast is toast and scrambled eggs. Neutral in acidity, high in protein, and high in carbs, but easy on the stomach.

He's finished his own when the Little Lady trots down the stairs. It's odd seeing her in a simple shirt and pants instead of the loud dresses you usually put her in. But he always insists on neutral clothing -- less to snag on, less to fuss over, less chance of her getting snatched up by a man with ill intent.

"Eat up, girl," he says, pouring himself a cup of caf. "We'll head out when yer finished."

---

It's about as simple of a job as it could possibly get, and he was lucky to spot the listing when he did. Some nobody smuggler on the next planet over that's been undercutting a Hutt grunts' operation. Simply find, shoot, and bring to the middleman alive so they can teach them a lesson.

Perfect for a beginner.

"As soon as you see them, pull de trigger," he says, handing her a blaster. "It's already on stun. Drop 'em like a sack o' flour."

"What if I miss?" she asks. "Or it doesn't work?"

"You won't miss," he says, "and it'll work. Trust yer ol' man and trust yer instruments."

She gives him a cautious look. "It's a gun, Daddy. Not an instrument."

He chuckles to himself. "Just means don't hesitate. And one more word of advice." He places his finger on his lips. "Keep yer mouth shut. Don't let anyone get you talkin'. You'll get distracted."

It's the truth, but the real reason is that she's just too damn cute. Trying to sound intimidating will only make her even more adorable.

---

Warehouse security is non-existent. They walk right through the front door and split up after entering.

And by 'split up,' he means he tails her at a distance. Far enough away that she thinks she's on her own, but close enough that he can swoop in if a Battle Droid shows up.

...Not that a Battle Droid will show up, but now he's irrationally worried. He hasn't discussed fighting droids at all with her. He adds that to the top of the lessons list.

But she seems to be doing okay so far. Walking on her toes, hand on her blaster, scanning and listening carefully before rounding any corners. If anything, she'd make a decent scout. Or a burglar, which she probably gets from you. You oughta take her prowling sometime.

Bane hears the movement before she does. Muffled footsteps and the soft swish of moving cloth, coming right towards them.

He withdraws into a shadow before she doubles back. She climbs up onto a crate to literally get the drop on whoever is coming. Unwise and risky. He docks a few points for that. What she should have done is waited for them to pass and then got them in the back...

She hits the ground lightly, and he hears the click of her blaster.

And then he hears a laugh he could have gone the rest of his life without hearing again.

There's no fucking way. He sticks his head out to confirm. Hat, species, stature...

That's Hondo Ohnaka, all right.

Maker damn it all.

Ohnaka looks utterly nonplussed. "Careful where you point that, youngling. You might hurt yourself."

He's about to step in when the Little Lady replies. "Make this easy for both of us and come quietly, smuggler."

Just as Bane feared, Ohnaka throws back his head and laughs. "Ah, what is the galaxy coming to? Adorable little children threatening me." He crosses his arms. "Tell me, girl, what's your name?"

"None of your business," the Little Lady says.

Bane sneaks a big closer. Better angle to shoot Ohnaka in the face if he has to.

The pirate has changed a lot in the decade since he last saw him. His coat is gone, and he's less bejeweled. He's let the tendrils on his chin grow longer as well. Must have fallen on hard times. Same stupid hat, though.

Ohnaka shifts his weight to his back foot. "Well, Miss None-Of-Your-Business, Hondo is in a hurry. Step aside."

The Little Lady stands her ground, even taking a step closer. Her aim doesn't waver for a second.

Ohnaka stares at her a moment, then laughs again. "Such spunk! If you were a little taller, I might actually be afraid."

He walks around and past her. The Little Lady blinks at him, then chases after him. "Where are you going?!" she says, flustered. "I told you to--"

Ohnaka whirls on her. "Listen, youngling," he says, voice low. "I am in a good mood. Do not test me. Turn around and walk away."

She recoils slightly. Her gaze flits around, likely looking for Bane. "N-No," she stammers. "I'm a bounty hunter and you're my bounty. I'll shoot you. I mean it."

Something like anger flashes across the pirate's face. But it vanishes, replaced with a contemplative look. He strokes his chin. "Awful short for a bounty hunter," he mutters to himself. He returns to his normal voice. "I have a proposal, youngling."

Just shoot him, he wills the girl. He'd do it himself, but he doesn't have a good angle...

She keeps the blaster on him. "If you're gonna try to bribe me--"

"Bribe you? Never! A girl with such conviction would never fall for such a thing," he says. "I am in need of a... Diminutive personage. Hondo is tall, ship maintenance shafts are small, and his joints are not as well-oiled as they used to be. Why not be my cabin girl, hm? Join the crew of the legendary Hondo Ohnaka!"

The Little Lady lowers her pistol, looking somewhat intrigued.

Bane is reasonably certain that you'd never let him hear the end of it if your daughter joined a pirate crew. Time to stop this.

He clicks the safety off of his LL-30 as he steps out of the shadow. "Dat's enough."

The Little Lady jumps out of her skin, but Ohnaka's face lights up like a carnival when he realizes who he's looking at.

"Well, blast me to Corellia!" he chortles. "Cad, my old friend!"

He tries to hug Bane. Bane levels his LL-30 at Ohnaka's gut. "Touch me and I plug ya."

Ohnaka just scoffs. "Glad to see nothing has changed," he says. "Tell me, what are you doing here?"

"Wanted somethin' easy," he says. "Lookin' fer a two-bit smuggler. Guessin' dat's you."

It's subtle, but Ohnaka flinches slightly. "We all fall on hard times now and again," he says. "But Hondo is on the up and up!"

Bane lets out a low, rumbling chuckle. "Not if I got anythin' to say about it."

That seems to put the fear of the Maker back into the Weequay. He pales a bit, but keeps his nonchalance as he stands aside. "Well, you'll have to compete with the youngling for it. Go on. Have it out."

"She's with me," he says.

Ohnaka breaks into a broad grin. He's even more nervous now. "I always knew you had a soft side. Let me guess, a street child you took a liking to? No, no..." He thinks a moment, then snaps his fingers. "Ah! Long-lost relative died and you're her remaining living family? Or perhaps--"

And here comes the migraine. "She's my kid," he says. He hopes the shock of the statement will shut Ohnaka up.

And it works, for a moment. His jaw clicks shut and his eyes widen, but soon he's chatting again. "That Zeltron girl with the nice--?"

It's been so long since Bane has seen Ohnaka sober that he's forgotten how fast the pirate can move when he wants to. He closes the gap between the two of them in moments to grab Bane's shoulders.

"And you didn't tell me?!" He actually sounds offended.

Don't engage. Don't engage. He engages. "Why would I tell you anything?"

"Because I'm your friend!" he says. He releases Bane to pace around. "And I'm the reason you two got together, after all! That practically makes me the girl's godfather!"

The Little Lady tips her head. "You know Momma?" she asks.

Ohnaka laughs. "I do! Very well." The laugh turns... wistful. "Very, very well. If your father hadn't come along, I'd have stolen her for myself."

Bane literally bites his tongue and resists the urge to put a few holes in the Weequay's torso. Even a decade later, that's still a sore spot for him, but it's not worth losing the money.

Ohnaka squats down in front of the Little Lady. "Ah, you look just like her, too. Don't know how I didn't see it before. Let's try this again." He straightens up into a bow. "Hondo Ohnaka, my dear."

Despite not wearing a dress, the Little Lady crosses one leg behind the other and dips. You just have taught her that. "I'm Mezerel. Nice to meet'cha."

"The pleasure is all mine!" Without warning, he scoops her up into his arm. She squeals and giggles as he spins her around, her previous aggression forgotten.

Bane sighs inwardly. He should have just shot him. But, as per usual, just being within a meter of Hondo Ohnaka actively makes him stupider.

"Alright, enough." Ohnaka stops spinning the girl, though he keeps her in his arms. "Drop her."

"Oh, I don't think so. I think I may keep her for myself." The pistol is out before Bane even registers it, pointed right at the Little Lady's head. The poor girl goes stiff. "You let me go on my way or I put a hole in your little girl," he says, voice no less bright.

Bane grinds his teeth, trying to ignore the rage blooming in his chest. He should have seen that coming. It's just so hard to tell when Ohnaka is bluffing. That's why he never played sabacc with him after the first time.

"Ya really wanna piss me off like dat?" he asks. "Her mother would rip ya apart, too."

The Little Lady starts to speak, but he cuts her off. "Daddy--"

"Mez, shut up," he says. He feels bad being so harsh, but it's a necessary evil. "Drop her, Ohnaka."

Ohnaka does not. He starts to step back. "Here's what we'll do," he says. "I walk to my ship. Once it is ready for takeoff, I release little Mezerel. Unless you want to see her cold and lifeless?"

He does not want that. He cannot express in mere words how much he does not want that. But the credits--

He's mentally preparing himself to give up the reward when the whir of a stun round echoes through the warehouse. Ohnaka blinks a few times, then slowly falls forward. He hits the ground with a thump.

Bane pokes him with his boot before letting out a sigh of relief. "Nice timin', kid."

The Little Lady wriggles out from underneath Ohnaka, her rostrum scrunched. "He's weird."

He huffs a laugh. Good judge of character. "I don't like him either." He clips the binders on the pirate's wrists and heaves him up onto his shoulders. “Let’s go.”

---

Ohnaka is still out cold when he tosses him at the client's feet. He gets paid a nice stack of credits -- not massive, but fair.

He had the Little Lady wait in the speeder. She looks up as he climbs into the driver's seat, and her brow wrinkles as he places some of the credits in her lap. "What's this?"

"Yer cut," he says.

She counts them quickly, then compares it to his stack. "This isn't half. Where's the rest?"

He chuckles as he slips his creds into his wallet. "Seventy-thirty split, li'l lady. I told ya dat."

"I thought it was like a bowling term or somethin', not actual math," she grumbles. "I want hazard pay. He almost shot me."

"Ya negotiate dese things before de job," he says.

He goes to give her a little pat on the head, but she flinches away. He frowns. That's not like her at all.

"Y'alright?" he asks.

She avoids his gaze, preferring to stare at her boots. "... why didn't ya shoot him?" she asks quietly.

He has no idea how to answer that. The honest answer will just upset her, but he doesn't want to lie to his girl.

He takes a deep breath. "Sometimes, ya gotta make tough decisions," he says. He starts the speeder, and the engine purrs to life.

She finally looks at him, red eyes burning into him. "Answer the question, Daddy."

He drums his fingers on the steering yoke, trying to think of a diplomatic way to put it... Or he could deflect. "He wasn't gonna shoot ya. He was bluffin'."

"That's not the question."

Maker on high, she sounds so much like you. "No," he says finally. "I trusted ya'd come through. I trusted my instrument."

The poor girl's face falls and it falls hard. She looks away from him, back to her little boots. "Is that what I am?" she murmurs. "I thought ya liked me."

"I do. I like ya a lot." He reaches his hand over to take hers. It's still so little compared to his. "But de job's over," he says gently. "An' yer back to bein' my li'l lady."

After a moment, her little fingers curl around his. She lets out a sigh. "Okay."

He squeezes her hand before letting go, returning it to the steering yoke. "You want anythin' from anywhere?"

She shakes her head. "I just wanna go home," she says.

That's really unlike her. But he doesn't push it. "If ya think of anything, speak up."

"Mmhmm."

---

The sun is just starting to go down when he lands gingerly on the balcony, careful not to disturb the sleeping girl in his arms.

You open the sliding door for them. Bambi is at your feet, peering around your dress. He breaks into a smile and tries to run to him, but you hold the boy back.

"She alright?" you ask Bane.

"Dozed off as we were gettin' into orbit," he says. He gives Bambi a nod. "Evenin', boy."

You smile warmly. "It's the engine noise. Puts her right to sleep." You kiss the crown of her head. "Sweet dreams, sweet girl."

Bane tramps up the stairs and to her room. He sits on the bed and pulls her boots off before peeling back the blankets and slipping her inside.

The Little Lady chirps as she stirs, opening her bleary eyes. "Are we home?" she asks.

He nods. He lifts his hat off and rests it on his knee. "Ya did good today." He gently touches her cheek. She has his cheekbones, sharp and shapely. "I'll make sure ya don't get grabbed next time. Teach ya how to get out of a hold."

She nods, then lets out a loud yawn. Pulling the blankets up and over her head, she rolls over and curls in on herself. A perfect little cocoon.

"Sleep tight, missy," he murmurs. She gives a response, but it's so muffled he can't understand a word of it.

He stands and walks to her door, leaving her to get her beauty sleep.

But, as he walks out the door, he can't resist one last glance at her.

---

"Catch Us If You Can Masterpost" | To the Mastahpost | Tip Jar

[sporadicthingcollection]

pride month babeyyy

How would Cad and Irno react to one of their kids coming out as queer?

The way I like to write it, there's no assumption of sexuality in this fictional universe, so "coming out" isn't really a thing.

The in-universe answer: Zeltrons give -2 fucks about sexuality, so Irno wouldn't bat an eye. Bane doesn't care either way as long as the kid can literally shoot straight.

---

Bane is dreaming about fighting a giant nuna when a hand shakes his shoulder.

The dream fades as he blinks awake. He tries to get his bearings -- he's in his bed in the apartment, you're sleeping next to him, and the sky outside is just starting to turn gray.

A pair of big red eyes peer at him in the darkness. Bambi stands there in his pajamas, clutching his teddy bantha.

He says something so fast that Bane doesn't catch it. He tries to ask him to repeat himself, but it comes out as "s'data'gn?"

"Can I kiss boys sometimes?" he asks.

Bane blinks at him. He glances at the chronometer. "It's four in de mornin', boy."

Bambi shrugs. "I just wanted to ask."

He scrubs his hand across his face. His eyes are scratchy and his head screams at him to go back to sleep. "Yer seven. Yer too young to be kissin' anyone. Kiss whoever ya want when yer older. Now go de fuck back to bed."

The boy nods. "Mmkay. Just wanted to ask."

He turns on his heel and leaves. As soon as the door is shut, Bane flops back onto the pillow. Rolling over, he reaches his arm around you and pulls you into him.

You stir slightly, making a high-pitched hum. "What'd he want?"

He buries his face in your hair, right between your curlers. "Bambi wanted to lemme know he likes boys sometimes," he murmurs into your scalp. 

"That's all?" you ask. He nods, and you hum again. "Good to know."

You're warm and you smell nice. He's back asleep in seconds. Time to fuck that nuna up.

---

"Catch Us If You Can Masterpost" | To the Mastahpost | Tip Jar

[sporadicthingcollection]

Still watching a lot of Psych.

[sporadicthingcollection]

Dude I adore ur Cad Fam so much I can't take it 💕 Especially Bambi for some reason like I just know he's gonna be such a tall boy like his papa and Irno's still gonna want to hug/cuddle her baby boi and be such a lil mom 😭🥺 (this image brings me so much serotonin I might draw it and that's a threat) ilysm dude have a great one 🌹

do it u won't

Aaah thank you! 💙💙💙 I'm so glad you enjoy it as much as I do!

Bambi does indeed end up huge -- a few inches taller than his dad, in fact. Upside-down Dorito shoulders. Toned abs. Big blue hunk.

Never outgrows cuddles with Momma, though. He's the son that sneaks up on her when she's busy in the kitchen to pick her up and twirl her around while she laughs and scolds him.

[sporadicthingcollection]

"It's too big."

"You'll grow into it. Now quit squirmin' or we're both goin' down."

---

"Catch Us If You Can Masterpost" | To the Mastahpost | Tip Jar

[sporadicthingcollection]

sometimes you just gotta turn your ocs into emojis, too

Made with Adobe Illustrator.

[sporadicthingcollection]

Winnie "Bambi" Bane: Looks like he could kill you, but is a cinnamon bun as long as you keep him fed.

Mezerel "Little Lady" Bane: Looks like a cinnamon bun, but would sell you out for a few yards of genuine Pertolib silk.

[sporadicthingcollection]

Intruders (I’ll leave their affiliations up to you) break into the family home looking for Cad while he is away and Irno is pregnant with Winrel, so she and Mezerel are the only ones there to defend the house (along with the home security system of course).

oooooh what a fun prompt! thank you!

happy star wars day everyone!

---

You are Irno Favara. You are having a no good, dirty rotten, take-it-out-back-and-put-it-out-of-its-misery really bad day.

First, you spent most of the night dry heaving over a toilet bowl and most of the morning trying to ease your heartburn. You got sick a few times when you were carrying Mezerel, but this baby really has it out for you.

Then, when you felt well enough to try and eat, you couldn't find Mez. It was only a few minutes, but your damned hormones went all haywire and you started bawling when you found her. Poor li'l thing wasn't even hiding, just snuggled up a little too deep in a pile of pillows and blankets on the couch.

You decide some fresh air will do you good. You pick out your fanciest tea dress that still fits, put on your face, and get Mez all sunscreened up.

And now, just as you’re leaving the apartment, you open the door to find a blaster in your face.

You don’t even have it in you to be scared. “You gotta be fuckin’ kidding me,” you mutter.

A dour-faced Nikto stares back at you, a grizzled Rodian flanking him. "So you're Bane's bitch," he says.

Nuts.

That's not a good sign. Cad wouldn't breathe a word about you and your baby while he's out doing his thing... and it's not like he has friends to brag to, so someone on your end must have blabbed.

You feel Mez’s little fists clutch your skirt. Without taking your eyes off the Nikto, you gently stroke her head.

"I'm a bitch, but I don't belong to anyone in particular," you reply. "And you are?”

“Here for revenge.” He steps forward and into the apartment proper. He motions for the Rodian. "Grab the kid."

Cad once compared baby Duros to loth-kittens -- they don’t lay down and surrender, they fight. And fight she does, the little trooper. She hisses and spits and thrashes as he picks her up. He nearly drops her when she sinks her teeth into his hand, but a sharp swat to the back of the head takes the fight right out of her.

You were going to try and resolve this peaceably, but now these assholes are going down.

"If it's money you want, there's some in the safe in the bedroom," you say.

The Nikto gives a cruel half-smile. "That's a start," he says. "Then we'll give that man of yours a call."

He follows you up the stairs. You exaggerate your pregnant waddle to buy yourself time to think. What's in the bedroom that you could use to defend yourself? Your holdout is in the nightstand, but that's nowhere near the safe. How can you get over there without arousing suspicion?

You enter the bedroom, the Nikto close behind, and open the walk-in closet door.

The safe is hidden behind a shoe rack. Once you're in there, you'll be trapped...

...But so will he.

You open the closet door. "It's behind that rack there," you say. "Could you move it? I can't exactly squat anymore." 

The Nikto enters and shoves the rack to the side. He kneels in front of the safe. "Tell me the code."

...any good criminal knows not to leave your hostage unattended. This guy's an idiot.

You step back quickly and quietly to your nightstand. "Oh, I'm always forgetting the silly thing," you lie. "Try oh-four-two-oh-oh-nine."

The safe buzzes. "Wrong passcode," he says.

"Hang on, I have it written down somewhere."

You slip the drawer open and pluck your holdout pistol from its spot. It's an ELG-3A Cad modified for you for times exactly like this -- still small enough to hide, but now silent as a stone and with enough punch to drop a battle droid.

Time to make your man proud.

"My mistake, it's oh-three-two-oh-oh-nine," you say, approaching the safe.

It buzzes again, and he growls. "Enough games, woman," he says. "Open the--"

As he turns to you, you squeeze off a shot. Then another. Then another. The recoil almost breaks your arm, but the man is knocked to the floor.

You prod him with your foot, and he lets out a groan. You put another bolt in him and snatch up his own blaster. You run out of the closet and close the door. You put a shot into the panel just in case.

As quickly and quietly as you can, you sneak back down the stairs. Peering around the corner, you see the Rodian sitting on the sofa, glaring at Mez as he sucks a spot on his hand. Based on the fact her mouth has been taped shut, you assume she bit him again.

You've never been more proud.

Despite the tape, her agitated chirps are still audible, and she tries to squirm out of his grip. 

"Will you just shut up?!" the Rodian hisses. "Maker, no wonder he's always away..."

He sets his weapon to lean against the armrest as he stands, presumably to further torture your daughter. You won't abide by that.

You've memorized every squeaky floor panel in the room, and you deftly avoid them as you sneak over. A rush goes through you -- you missed prowling more than you realized.

Mez sees you as you get close to the couch. Her red eyes go wide and the tone of her chirp changes. You put a finger to your lips as you grab the weapon.

It's strange-looking. Very heavy, with twin barrels and a hinge. But it has a trigger and that's all you need.

You press the muzzle to the Rodian's head and squeeze the trigger.

Nothing happens. The trigger doesn't even budge.

The Rodian jumps up, dropping Mez. He reaches for the weapon, but finding nothing, pulls out his pistol.

You hit the deck, scrambling away to hide behind the other sofa as he starts taking potshots at nothing. You're worried about your baby until a little streak of purple darts into your arms.

You pull the tape off her mouth, but cover it with your hands. You press your finger to your lips, and she nods.

"Stay right here," you whisper.

"Where are you?!" the Rodian spits. "Come out and I might not kill you."

You ease out from behind the couch. He's standing in the doorway, surveying the hall. You squeeze off a shot with your holdout, but the recoil causes you to miss.

He whirls around before you can hide again, pistol aimed squarely at you. He approaches you slowly. "Never handled a slugthrower, eh? That's unfortunate for you."

Oooh, that explains the trigger. Slugthrowers have hammers that need to be cocked...

You stand slowly, setting your weapons on the ground. "Do what you like to me," you say, "just don't hurt my daughter."

Speaking of which, a quick glance out of the corner of your eye tells you that she's gone. You don't fault her.

The Rodian huffs. "I don't think I'll keep that promise," he says. "Little bitch bit me twice."

You bristle. "Don't you dare call her that again."

"Why? Like mother, like father, like daughter--"

A little purple streak darts out and sinks her teeth into the Rodian's ankle. He howls in pain, the blaster slipping from his hand. You snatch up your weapons and jump to your feet just as he kicks her away, only to receive a high-heeled stomp on the foot from you. He falls to the floor.

You level the slugthrower at his face as Mez runs to you, clinging to your skirt.

The Rodian cowers, scrambling backwards until he hits a wall. “It-It wasn’t my idea!” he sputters. “I was just here for the score! I actually like kids...!”

"Mm-hmm." you say, pulling back the hammer. You glance at Mez. “What do you think, donnina?”

She lets out a quiet hiss, the same kind her daddy makes at times like this. “Don’t like ‘im.”

“I don’t like him either.” You take careful aim. “Go to your bedroom, pumpkin. I’ll tell you when it’s okay to come out.”

She hesitates for a moment, but a stern look from you and she scampers off. You count to three, then squeeze the trigger.

It doesn't fire a laserbolt. With a deafening crack, a shower of razor-sharp pellets launches out of the barrel, and the recoil sends you flying backwards. You land hard on your ass -- enough to hurt, but not enough to upset the baby, thank goodness.

Shredded, bloody meat is all that remains of the Rodian's torso. And all that’s left of the windows are a few shards clinging to the frame.

He sinks to his knees, and collapses forward with a wet splat. All over the carpet you'd just vacuumed.

This is gonna take forever to clean up.

---

Bane knows something is wrong as soon as he touches down on the balcony. One window blown out is an accident with a gravball. But the whole row? That's a giant warning sign.

He avoids the glass shards as best as he can, laying his palm on the butt of his LL-30. Tiny, sharp pellets amongst the glass catches his eye. Slugthrower shot. Someone really wanted to cause some damage. If he's calm and quiet, he can scope out what's going on before he's noticed...

A little purple head pops up from behind the couch, blinks once, then breaks into a needle-toothed smile. The Little Lady clambers over the cushions to trot towards him, chirruping happily.

Bane savors the sound. She's getting to the age where she'll stop doing it instinctively. He has plenty of recordings of her, but it's nothing compared to the real thing...

He realizes she's not wearing shoes. "Not another step, li'l lady," he says.

She listens for once, freezing in place and watching carefully as he picks his way through the glass. But once he's in reach, she hops into his arms. He catches her easily and lifts her up, pressing his rostrum to hers. She grabs his tubes to yank him closer, enough to feel the cartilage flex.

His heart squeezes. It's nice to be missed.

He hopes to see a smile when he pulls away, but her brow is furrowed and her mouth set in a grimace.

"Momma's actin' funny. Ever since the..." She stops herself. "Right, not s'posed to tell you 'bout that..."

He raises a brow. "Tell me 'bout what?"

She looks around, then shrugs. "...I forgot."

He really hopes she doesn't stay this bad at lying. She won't last a minute on a job. "Where's yer momma?"

She points to the middle of the living room. You're on your hands and knees, desperately trying to get a questionable stain out of the carpet.

"Fuckin' piece of shit motherfuckers..." you mutter. "Didn't have the courtesy to get their guts on the tile and now I gotta clean it up..."

Bane looks at the Little Lady, and she shrugs. He shakes his head. "Guess I'm too late fer de party," he says to you.

Normally when he surprises you, you yip. Or peep. Or squeak. Either way, you make a cute little noise that makes him smile and you get playfully annoyed with him.

You don't do that this time. This time, you scream. Loudly. Enough that he flinches and it's the Little Lady that lets out a surprised squeak.

But you quickly realize it's him. Your hand goes to your mouth and you break into a grimace. You try to climb to your feet, but your rounded belly stops you. You fall back with a pathetic thud and bury your face in your hands.

Oops.

He sets the Little Lady down and squats in front of you. "Didn't mean to spook ya, missus," he says gently.

You look up. Your eyes are puffy and your makeup runs down your face in colored tracks. Your lip quivers as you bite it.

"I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to... With the baby and those goons, I just... And now I can't get this stain out...!" you hiccup.

Goons? His good mood vanishes. "What happened?" he says, voice low. "Someone hurt ya?"

You try to talk, but the words get caught in your throat. You can only blubber as you bury your face in your hands, shoulders heaving.

At this height, the Little Lady is about eye level with him. She gives him a somber, surprisingly mature look. "Momma's had a really bad day," she says quietly.

Bane signs inwardly. He was looking forward to you fussing over him the way you always do when he comes back, but it looks like that will have to wait.

"Ya know how to start de caf pot?" he asks the Little Lady. She nods rapidly. "Hop to."

She snaps into a salute before bouncing off to the kitchen. He pulls your hands away from your face and hauls you to your feet, guiding you over to the couch. He sits and you immediately flop over across his lap.

He brings his hand down to card his fingers through your hair. It's so thick and lustrous now -- something about your hair not falling out when you're carrying, if he remembers correctly. It's gorgeous.

"Let it all out, missus," he murmurs. "Tell yer ol' man what happened."

Between blubbers, you manage a sentence: "There's a dead guy in the closet!"

He blinks. This story is going to be a long one.

---

"Catch Us If You Can Masterpost" | To the Mastahpost | Tip Jar