#I don't feel like tagging all of them but this is the squad during that brief period when Mac was there but Fitz hadn't left yet | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

soaringthroughthegalaxy · 1 year ago

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Hi. Can you write something spicy with Wrecker x f! reader with the prompt 62. “Is that my shirt?” Maybe reader needs new clothes during a mission and she forgets her spares on Kamino, leading her to wear Wrecker's. She takes advantage of the situation to tease him a little, but we know Wrecker is a little innocent, until Crosshair opens his eyes.. "If you don't fu** her, I will." 😂

Hi,

Thank you so much for this request, I absolutely loved writing it!

What's Mine is Yours

While working on a mission on Corellia, a clothing mishap leads to much more than you anticipated.

Pairing: Wrecker x F!reader

Word count: 4.2k

Rating: 18+ MINORS DNI!

Warnings: accidental clothes sharing, reader described as busty, lewd comment as motivation (one guess who it comes from…), confession of feelings, idiots in love, first kiss, oral (f!receiving), face sitting, fingering, semi-clothed sex, unprotected PiV, squint for size and strength kink.

“Where the hell is it?” You huff, hands scrambling through your backpack as you pull out your belongings, scattering them across the dresser in the dingy hotel room.

You and the boys had been sent to Bela Vistal, a small mountain city on Corellia. The Jedi had caught wind of a shady auction, with whispers of a Holocron up for grabs. It was your job as a squad to scope the place out, gather as much intel as possible, and strike and extract the Holocron if the opportunity presented itself.

By now, you’re used to working with limited information. As a civilian handler, it was your job to fill in the blanks and help the boys with anything they needed to successfully complete their missions – something you’d spent over a year doing remarkably well at. Today that had included wandering around the city with Tech, pretending to be together – out of them all, his appearance was less likely to arouse suspicion. You’d conversed politely with market vendors and cantina owners, asking subtle questions to discover more about the auction.

Ultimately, it had been a fruitless endeavour, and the pair of you had returned to the hotel as the sun had been setting, food in hand. You’d excused yourself after eating, slipping back into your room via the door connecting the two rooms you’d rented for a quick shower.

And now here you were, furiously rifling through your belongings for a clean shirt. You’d packed one; you swore you had. Fingers finding soft fabric, you let out a small noise of triumph, prying the material from your backpack. Towel falling to the floor, you shimmed on a clean pair of panties and some sleep shorts before dragging on the top. Only once it was over your head did you realise something was off. Either you’d suddenly lost a lot of weight or…

Scrambling for the neckline, you twist and turn until you can see the tag and the large ‘W’ sewn into it. “Dank farrik.” You mutter, teeth sinking into your lower lip at the realisation that you’d somehow packed Wrecker’s shirt instead of your own.

Taking a deep breath, you looked at yourself in the mirror on the back of the fresher door. The oversized garment hit mid-thigh, the sleeves extending far beyond your hands. The only saving grace was that your boobs took up enough room that it gave the shirt a little bit of shape. You couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of the situation.

The thought of going out into the field wearing Wrecker’s clothing was hilarious, but your laughter soon subsided as you really looked at yourself. Oversized it might be, but it almost…suited you. And though it was clean, you lifted the collar to your nose and inhaled, picking up on a sweet scent that seemed to linger on all of Wrecker’s belongings.

You’d found great comfort in that scent over the last few months, drawn towards Wrecker and his infectious grin. Lips tugging into a smile, a tender warmth spread through you as you thought about the countless times Wrecker had been there to lighten the mood with his quips and laughter and how his protective nature made you feel secure amid the uncertainties of life.

The realisation of what your feelings meant hit you like a wave, and as you stood there, a myriad of emotions swirled within you. The laughter that had filled the room moments ago was replaced by a soft, introspective silence. As you continued to gaze at yourself in the mirror, you couldn’t help but acknowledge the depth of your connection with Wrecker. It went beyond the professional companionship forged across dangerous missions. It was something more personal, something that had quietly grown amidst the chaos of your work.

“Oh, kriff…” You whisper, staring at your own wide-eyed reflection. The sound of a knock on the connecting door interrupts your thoughts. Startled, you turn towards it, momentarily forgetting about the shirt you were wearing. Smoothing down the fabric, you move across to open the door, revealing Hunter.

“Thought you might’ve drowned.” He quips as the door opens; your showers never usually take so long. Gaze dropping down, Hunter takes in the sight of you, chuckling. “Well, looks like you’re drowning, alright.”

“I must’ve grabbed the wrong shirt in our hurry to leave Kamino.” You admit sheepishly, feeling warmth in your cheeks as Hunter steps aside, revealing you to his brothers.

To his credit, Tech offers you a reassuring smile while Crosshair snorts in amusement. But it’s Wrecker’s reaction that catches you off guard the most.

Wrecker’s eyes widen as his gaze rakes down your body. “I-Is that my shirt?” He asks, swallowing thickly. Heat creeps across his cheeks as he admires you, the curves of your body making it look entirely different than it did on him. He can feel the heavy thud of his heart, and for a moment, the room is filled with an almost tangible tension. Wrecker stands frozen, his eyes locked onto you.

“Yeah, I, uh, must’ve grabbed it by mistake.” You stammer, suddenly feeling self-conscious under his intense gaze.

Wrecker blinks, tearing his eyes away from you to glance at Hunter, Tech, and Crosshair. Hunter raises an eyebrow, clearly finding the situation entertaining but not commenting further. Tech adjusts his goggles, a knowing glint in his eyes, while Crosshair smirks, thoroughly amused. Clearing his throat, Wrecker manages to break the silence. “Well, it looks... good on ya.”

The sincerity in his voice surprises you, and you catch a flicker of something in his eyes that you can’t quite place. You give a nervous laugh, trying to diffuse the awkwardness. “Thanks, Wreck. I’ll wash it and get it back to you.”

“Nah, keep it.” He says quickly, almost too quickly. “Looks better on you anyway.”

The room falls into another awkward silence as Wrecker scratches the back of his head, unsure how to navigate the sudden shift in the atmosphere. It’s rare to see the big, boisterous man at a loss for words.

Hunter, always the pragmatist, breaks the tension. “Alright, enough of the fashion show. We’ve got a mission to focus on.”

The seriousness of the mission looms over the room, momentarily overshadowing the awkwardness. You gather around the table, holomaps of the city and your datapads spread out as you discuss the action plan.

As the discussion progresses, Wrecker finds his eyes straying to you often, trying to commit the vision of you in his clothes to memory, the way it drapes over your frame and the subtle scent of your shampoo that he knows will linger on the garment now too.

The realisation hits him like a ton of bricks – the feelings he’s been trying to suppress, the concern that goes beyond the missions, the warmth he feels when you’re around – it’s all there, staring him in the face.

Wrecker clears his throat again, attempting to focus on the plan you’re all hashing out, not the crazy beating of his heart. He chimes in enthusiastically, but his mind keeps drifting back to you. As the planning continues, Wrecker catches the knowing look Tech throws him. He shifts uncomfortably in his seat, trying to concentrate. He wonders if you feel the same, if the newfound awareness is mutual.

Finally, the planning ends, and with your usual round of goodnights, you’re back in your room, the connecting door firmly shut. Only once you’re gone does Wrecker feel like he can breathe again.

“Real subtle there, big guy,” Hunter comments, giving Wrecker’s shoulder a pat as he passes him.

“What?” Wrecker questions, playing dumb. He’s not quite ready to admit his feelings to his brothers; he’s just starting to come to terms with the recent revelation.

None of them are fooled. Tech reaches up, adjusting his goggles. “You were admiring her quite intently.” He points out.

“I would, too, if she were wearing my shirt.” Crosshair chimes in, leaning back on the small couch in the room, propping his feet up on the table as he feels Wrecker’s eyes narrow in his direction. “But hey, if you won’t kriff her, I will.” He comments, unafraid to poke the bear.

In sync, Hunter and Tech facepalm.

A flash of anger courses through Wrecker. “You wouldn’t.” He growls, hating the very idea.

“Wouldn’t I?” Crosshair goads. “She’s a pretty little thing. Bet she’d looked even prettier underne-“

“Hey!” Wrecker’s sharp shout cuts him off. “You don’t talk about her like that. She deserves better, and I won’t let ya disrespect her. Not when she’s the best thing to happen to us in a long while and always lookin’ out for us.”

Amusement curls at Crosshair’s lips. Truth told, forcing those words out had been horrible – he respected you too much – but it had given him the ammunition he needed to make his point. “Hm, sounds like you might have some feelings there, Wrecker.”

Realising he’s been caught in one of his younger brother’s traps, Wrecker groans in frustration, shooting Crosshair a glare that bounces straight off him. With a sigh, Wrecker’s shoulders sag, and he glances over his shoulder towards the connecting door to your room.

Worry curls through him. He did have feelings for you, that much he’d realised, but he wasn’t sure how you felt. The thought of making things awkward or disrupting the dynamics of the squad by introducing personal feelings weighed heavily on Wrecker’s mind.

Hunter picks up on his brother’s internal struggle. “Wrecker, if you’ve got something to say to her, just say it. We’re all adults here. We’ve faced worse than admitting feelings.”

Wrecker sighs. “I just don’t wanna mess things up, y’know? What if she don’t feel the same way, and it makes things weird?”

Tech chips in with his usual logical perspective. “Statistically speaking, relationships formed within a close-knit team can enhance cooperation and overall performance. Emotional bonds can be beneficial.”

Wrecker shoots Tech an incredulous look. “You suggestin’ I tell her I like her ’cause it’s statistically beneficial?”

Tech pushes his goggles back up his nose. “I am merely presenting a logical argument in favour of expressing one’s emotions.”

A noise of frustration slides from Crosshair’s lips, and he pushes himself off the couch. Grabbing Wrecker by the arm, he drags him over to the connecting door, banging his fist against it a few times. “She was eyeing you up, too. Don’t overthink. That’s Tech’s job.” He insists, returning to the couch, shaking his head while muttering about Wrecker’s lack of game.

Hearing you say the door was unlocked, Wrecker takes a deep breath before pushing it open, sliding into your room, letting it click shut behind him.

With Wrecker gone, Hunter, Tech, and Crosshair exchange glances before arranging themselves on the couch to play Sabacc. “You swapped her shirt out of her pack,” Hunter comments as Tech deals the deck, his eyes darting over to Crosshair.

With a shrug of his shoulders, Crosshair doesn’t bother answering; instead, he picks up his cards. Hunter couldn’t prove anything.

Looking up from the dresser, where you’d been trying to organise your belongings back into your backpack, you smile at the sight of Wrecker standing with his back pressed to the door. “Hey, Wreck. Everything okay?” You ask, abandoning your repacking to give the gentle giant your full attention.

Wrecker’s heart pounds in his chest as he steps further into your room, the weight of the revelation he’d shared with his brothers settling in his chest. He grapples with the best way to express his feelings to you, scratching the back of his neck out of nervous habit.

“Uh, yeah, everything’s fine.” He mumbles, avoiding direct eye contact for a moment. “I, um, just wanted to talk to ya about somethin’.”

You tilt your head curiously, a small smile playing on your lips. “Sure. What’s on your mind?”

Wrecker took another deep breath, his gaze finally meeting yours. “Well, it’s about... us. I mean, you and me. I’ve been feelin’ things, and I just gotta say it. I really like you. I like ya a lot.”

The sincerity in his voice is unmistakable, and your heartbeat quickens in response. Surprise paints your face, delight seeping into your veins that your feelings were returned – that he’d come here to share them with you.

“Wreck.” You begin, your voice soft. “I’ve... I’ve been feeling the same way. I just didn’t know how to say it.”

Relief washes over Wrecker’s features, and a wide, genuine smile spreads across his face. “Really?” he asks as if confirming that he wasn’t dreaming.

You nod, your own smile mirroring his. “Really.”

Wrecker chuckles nervously. “Well, guess Crosshair wasn’t entirely wrong about us eyein’ each other up.”

Your jaw drops a little. You’d thought you were being subtle, but you should’ve known the man with super-human vision would catch you out.

Wrecker takes a step closer, gently cupping your face in his large hands, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation. “I’m not great with words, but I really do care about ya.” He confesses.

“I care about you too, Wreck. And you don’t need to be great with words.” You reply, your eyes locked with his. “Actions speak louder.”

“Then let me show ya.” Wrecker murmurs, head dipping down to kiss your lips tenderly. Large hands move to rest on your hips, pulling you closer. One of your hands finds home at the nape of his neck, keeping his lips against yours as the other settles on his upper arm.

You taste like heaven, like everything Wrecker has ever wanted and dreamed about. His grip on you tightens ever so slightly, but he’s cautious, not wanting to accidentally hurt you. The kiss breaks a moment later, eyes locked on one another as you pull apart, chests heaving. Desire swirls in your gaze, and Wrecker wants to worship you. But he’s conflicted – is this too soon? Do you want this too?

Palms smoothing across Wrecker’s body, you take his hands in your own, walking backwards the few steps to the bed. Sinking to sit on the edge of it, you guide Wrecker down with you, a thrill zinging through you as he wraps an arm around your middle and hauls you further up the bed before settling above you. With one hand supporting most of his weight, you marvel at how warm and broad he is, your body hidden under his as he presses against you, lips finding yours again for a searing kiss.

You’re so small beneath him, so delicate and so pretty, with your hair fanned across the sheets, your beautiful eyes looking up at him with such adoration. Wrecker can’t resist kissing you again, savouring your shared feelings. Tentatively, his hand roams to your thighs, large palm smoothing across soft skin, creeping up, ruching his shirt as his fingers skim under the edge of your sleep shorts.

The gentle touch makes your breath stutter, a low noise sliding from your lips, muffled by the kiss.

Wrecker pulls back, watching as your eyes flutter open. “Too much, babe?” He asks quietly, unsure whether the noise is good and not wanting to push too much.

Shaking your head, you lean up to pepper kisses across his jawline. “More. Please.” You ask, heat building in your belly.

Thrilled, Wrecker breaks out into a grin, shivering as your hands pry his shirt up and off his body. Your fingers fan over his bare chest, tracing every muscle and scar. His pants are next to be discarded, your sleep shorts joining them on the floor before your lips meet again in a needy kiss. Your panties go, followed by his boxers, but as you go to remove his shirt, Wrecker’s fingers still the action.

“Leave it on, babe.” He admits, a flush on his cheeks. There was something so intrinsically hot about you wearing his clothes.

A noise of delight leaves you, followed quickly by one of surprise as Wrecker rolls you both, placing himself beneath you. Straddling him, it’s impossible to ignore the press of his thick, hard cock. It feels enormous, and you’re almost afraid to look down.

Thankfully, you’re spared as Wrecker grabs your ass, huge hands dwarfing it as he hauls you up his body.

Wrecker groans, hands squeezing as he draws you further up. “Want you to sit on my face, babe. Lemme eat that pretty pussy before I kriff ya.”

Heat strikes through you, pussy clenching around nothing at Wrecker’s request. “I-I don’t wanna suffocate you.” You worry as you’re lifted over his face, knees on either side of his head. Warmth blossoms across your cheeks as he stares right at your cunt.

“Ya won’t. And even if you do, what a way to go.” Wrecker growls, tongue darting out to wet his lips as he gazes up at your pussy. Gently, he encourages you down, groaning in satisfaction as you rest lightly against his face – nose and mouth brushing against your slick folds. “That ain’t sittin’.” He grumbles as he notices you trying to hold up some of your weight. Using a little more of his strength, he pulls you down until you’re firmly against his face, his nose pressed to your clit as his tongue laves over your entrance.

“Oh, hells…” You cry out, holding onto the headboard with one hand while the other lands on Wrecker’s head. That first lick of his tongue had felt incredible.

Wrecker feasts, your pussy his new favourite meal. The taste of you fills his mouth, and he moans, dragging his nose across your clit, tongue sloppy as he laves at you before pointing it and pressing it into your hole. He takes a breath whenever he can, drawing the flat of his tongue up through your folds to flick across your clit, lips latching around the sensitive bud so he can suck on it, brushing his tongue over it at the same time.

White hot pleasure is all you can feel, hips rocking as you ride his face, chasing your high. Your hand strokes across his head, fingers gliding over scarred skin. “Kriff, Wreck. Yes. Just like that.” You encourage, pleasure building quickly.

The stretch catches you off guard, two of his thick fingers pressing into you, crooking, as his mouth focuses on your clit. Head thrown back, his name falls from your lips as you come, thighs shaking and pussy spasming around his fingers as the pleasure rolls through your body.

Working you through the high, Wrecker gently pries his mouth off your clit, fingers slowly scissoring as he stretches you out a little more now that you’re more relaxed. He knows he’s big, and the last thing he wants is to hurt you.

Your hips roll slowly, grinding lazily against his face once again as he continues working you open, another thick finger joining the two already buried inside you. Biting down on your lower lip to muffle your moan, the trembles from your orgasm subside.

Fingers slip from you, hands finding your hips. Lifted, you’re moved back down Wrecker’s body until he can kiss you, mouth and chin covered in your juices. You gasp at the taste, at the way his tongue presses into your mouth, and you lazily make out.

Slowly you draw apart; Wrecker’s fingers that weren’t buried in your pussy move to push your hair out of your face tenderly.

The throb between your thighs intensifies, and you lift your hips, shifting until you can grind down against Wrecker’s cock. The rumble in his chest does funny things to your inside, and you smile. “I wanna ride your cock, too.” You state sweetly, enjoying the delight that flares in Wrecker’s eyes.

Scooting back just a little so you rest on his thighs, you drag your gaze from his face to finally take in his cock. It’s much thicker than any you’ve seen before – in person and on the holonet – and longer than average.

He curves a little to the right, the tip flushed a deep red, a bead of pre-cum in the slit. Taking him in hand, his groan reverberates through the room, and you can’t help but dip down to lap at him, the tang on your tongue dragging a sound from you that Wrecker echoes.

Your fingers don’t touch around him, and for a moment, you worry you won’t be able to take him. Shuffling forward a tiny bit until you’re back in your previous position, you line him up with your entrance, pressing just the tip in, and slowly start to sink down, letting gravity do the work.

Wrecker’s pretty sure he’s shaking – from anticipation or barely-there control, he’s not sure. All he does know is that his hands are wrapped around your hips to help guide you but not force you down, and inch by agonising inch, his dick is slowly being enveloped in the heat of your pussy.

The stretch burns a little, even after an orgasm and three fingers working you open. Taking your time, you let out deep breaths as you sink down until you’re finally flush, feeling fuller than ever.

“Stars above, Wreck.” You pant, holding his gaze as you adjust to the feeling. His jaw is clenched, soft brown eyes looking at you with such profound adoration, like he can’t quite believe this is happening. His hands on your hips slide upward, under the edge of his shirt, until he’s grasping at your waist.

Steadily, you give a small roll of your hips, rising ever so slightly before sinking back down. The action pulls a moan from you, Wrecker’s head tilting back against the bed, his groan mingling with your needy sounds. Finding a rhythm, you lean back a little, hands resting on his muscular thighs as warmth builds in your belly with every rise and fall. The burn of the stretch dissolves into pleasure.

Chin tilting down, Wrecker watches as you ride him, how your lips part with every little whimper and sigh, and your tits bounce beneath his shirt. The sight goes straight to his cock, hand sliding up from your waist until he can palm your breasts under the garment, fingers pressed against soft flesh. You’re a handful, even for him, and he grunts, thumb and forefinger tweaking your pebbled nipples.

The whine you let out is delicious, and his gaze roves down your body, settling on where the two of you are connected, watching how he slides in and out of your pussy. The sight, the sounds, and the feeling of you around him push him closer and closer to the edge. Fingers smoothing back down your body, they press against your clit, firm circles rubbed against the sensitive nub.

“Kriff. Kriff. Kriff.” You curse, eyes screwed shut as the warmth grows towards an inferno. Pitching forward, you change the angle, hands resting against his broad chest, providing better leverage as your pace quickens. Your thighs start to ache, but you’ll be damned if you let that stop you.

“That’s it, babe. Hells, your pussy feels so kriffin’ good.” Wrecker pants, his words helping push you over the edge. Your body goes taut above him, pleasure contorting your face as you clamp down around him, coming on his cock with a cry of his name. He keeps his fingers moving, working you through the high until the tremors in your body stop and your hazy eyes open to meet his.

You share a soft smile, and Wrecker surges up, lips meeting yours for a passionate kiss as he grasps back at your hips. Holding you in place, his hips snap quickly as he fucks up into you, chasing his high now you’ve been satisfied.

Tongues meeting, the kiss is frantic and messy, noises muffled by each other’s lips. You pull back just enough to gaze down at him. “Come in me. Please.” Your needy whine reverberates around the room.

You were perfect. So perfect. Your pleading words, the grip of your tight pussy around him… Wrecker’s thrusts falter, and with two more sharp snaps of his hips, he pushes himself deep inside you, growling out your name as he’s swept into pleasure, filling you.

The room falls silent except for your harsh breaths, gazes locked before you steal another kiss. Slower and softer, the lust dissolves into something sweeter. Strong arms wrap around you, and you’re rolled onto your side, pulled flush against Wrecker’s body as he pries his lips from yours. He smiles, and you can’t help but match it, a giggle bubbling up and out. The sound of Wrecker’s chuckle melds with yours, happiness simmering between you.

“You okay?” Wrecker asks, one hand smoothing across your cheek, cupping your face.

You lean into his touch with a small nod, eyes fluttering shut. Wrecker’s hand is warm against your face as he caresses you, his thumb tracing gentle circles on your cheek. The aftermath of shared intimacy leaves you feeling content and connected.

Overjoyed, Wrecker presses a lingering kiss to your forehead, hand sliding down your body to wrap back around you as he holds you close. Now he has you, he’s never going to let you go.

In the cocoon of his embrace, you slowly drift into a serene slumber, knowing you’ve found a sanctuary that feels like home in his arms.

Tag list: @clonethirstingisreal

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artsy-hobbitses · 3 months ago

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Is there a pet squad? It seems like every time I see something new about a character, it that they end up with a pet. So like the pet avengers or dc superpers version in ties that bind au a possible thing? Also who on both sides has a pet?

I DID NOT INTEND MOST OF THEM but animals just. Happen to some of these folks XDXD

Lesse...

AUTOBOTS:

Esmeralda the cat (Prowl and Jazz) - Jazz brought her back during one of his missions, Prowl basically became the dad who's like "I don't want pet" and a month later has her riding on his shoulders.

Dakshi the ovcharka (Kup) - Big dumb, big fun and big monstrous when you get him in the mood. Usually found roughousing with the Wreckers.

Molly the cattle dog (Ironhide) - Little dynamo of a dog, absolutely bouncing off the walls since she has no cattle to HERD NOW so she herds people instead.

Dunedan the Irish Setter (Mirage) - An old gentleman like his owner and Mirage's sightdog during hunts.

Avalon's Renaissance the horse (Mirage) - A riding horse who has seen better days and now enjoys leisurely canters with her master through the woods of Alpha Trion's estate.

Bigwig the rabbit (Bumblebee) - Is a gift to Bee from Optimus! Is also a right bastard to anyone not Bee, Bee's friends or OP.

An assortment of medical leeches (Ratchet) Many are named, mostly off famous vampires, and they live in a tempest prognosticator he had specially made for them.

A flock of pigeons (Optimus Prime) All are named and wear tags. OP doesn't have a favorite, and refers to them as his Mantiq Altair.

A murder of crows (Drift) They are not individually named, since Drift doesn't really consider them pets in a traditional sense, he simply feeds them and they see him as a human friend and bring him little gifts as such. However, he does refer to them affectionately as "The Crass Ones", because Sludge once asked him what these birds are called (he has some speech issues from the experimentation done on him and is working on remembering names of things around him) and while Drift told Sludge they were crows, he also told Sludge they were known as 'Karasu' in his language. Sludge misconstrued it as 'crass', became distressed and gently asked them to be kind to the nice man feeding them, and Drift found that so sweet/funny that the name stuck.

Tabiba the dove (First Aid) - A gift for First Aid from her uncle, Hotspot, when she graduated medical school.

Serpico the German Shepherd (Nightbeat) - Was the K9 Nightbeat worked most often with while he was a cop, and when he left to go underground/work from the shadows, he 'liberated' Serpico and Serpico chose to go with him rather than stay at the precinct. Is Nightbeat's scenthound and 'bodyguard' during stakeouts.

Lelaps and Boudicca the Maned-subtype Turbofoxes (Alpha Trion) - These were former sentry hounds of the Quintessons and were freed/reprogrammed by the Primes to help them instead.

DECEPTICONS

Old Fella the Pit Bull (Barricade) - Was rescued from an illegal fighting pit, and has long passed his best days. Was intended to be rehomed, but Barricade grew too attached to him, and with Megatron's blessings, decided to keep him instead.

Najmina the falcon (Skywarp) - Skywarp's pride and joy, and his scout during recon missions.

Buster the Jack Russell (Thundercracker) Your standard Jack Russell Terrorist so named because she would bust everyone's balls (her original name was 'Ballbuster') at Marissa Fairborne's base. With Marissa's encouragement, was adopted by Thundercracker who was feeling lost after leaving the Decepticons and needed an 'anchor'/something to care for while he figured out a new purpose in life.

Mollica the British Shorthair cat (Nickel) - One of those "there is a cat in my house, I do not own a cat" situations. This thing just sauntered into the DJD's quarters, almost slapped Tarn's mask off when he grabbed her and Nickel immediately fell in love and insisted on keeping her if only for her audacity. Her being around Tarn has not endeared him to her one bit

Graymalkin the Sphynx cat (Starscream) - Post war, adopted by Starscream as a companion.

#inbox #save for later #ttb #ties that bind #pets

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nogenderbee · 3 months ago

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♡˗ˏ✎*ೃ˚ ℂ𝕒𝕞𝕡𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕖𝕩𝕥𝕣𝕒 ₊˚ˑ༄

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ anon request: Hiii!!, since your requests are open, could i ask for; akito x reader, going on a field trip/camping with the rest of the vbs, but they have ran into n25 and wxs (ofc separately) that also decided to go camping somewhere close??? I hope it's not too much😭😭

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ Hello!!!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ fluff for Akito, platonic for rest

✧ you and VBS most likely got to know you have neighbors during your camping by suddenly hearing very loud yell... and quite chaotic banter...

✧ of course Akito quickly guessed correctly it must be the annoying wombo combo

✧ it wasn't long till they noticed VBS and tagged along... and oh boy it was just the start...

✧ Toya and Kohane didn't mind... But Akito? Oh he was complaining to you all the time... An too though...

"Can this place be any more loud...? Please don't prove me it can. I was complaining, not asking."

✧ Nene joined the "commenting what a weirdo wombo combo is" club to your surprise...

✧ Emu and Tsukasa were mostly talking with Kohane and Toya really!

✧ so that left the worse... Rui... to you... Or rather to Akito...

✧ he was clearly trying to get a reaction out if your boyfriend who was barely holding it together

✧ if Tsuaksa makes the morning extra loud for him he'll definitely end with flip flop or any shoe on his face followed by noise of you scolding Akito for what he did

✧ you're also either sharing a tent or having your tents right next to each other! There's no way he'd leave you like that when loud troublemakers are nearby...

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

@bleachtheidiot @akitosheart @wholesaleboi @yulikesminori @alicewinterway18 @hakulivesformusic @sucodelaranja86 @hayillaaaaaaa @miguelito-maruti-blog @ravenmoon903 @toyaswif3y @superstar-ethereal @stellas-starry-stories13 - come get your Wonderlands x Showtime!

✧ Ena could recognize that tent anywhere... It's from her house after all! So when she arrived with Nighrcord, she immideitly got irritated for her brother ruining her plans

✧ Mizuki of course was quite happy because this hangout just turned to be a lot more interesting!

✧ you can already tell Akito and his sister were fighting most of the time... throwing little banters at each other and so on...

✧ if you tried interrupting that, you'd most likely to get just pushed away

"Not now, Y/N!"

"Don't you raise your voice at them!"

✧ Mafuyu and Kanade were mostly in background not feeling like dealing with all this drama...

✧ Mizuki stayed out of the way only when siblings started fighting and always offered you a rescuing hand just in case~

✧ if they were not fighting tho, they're most likely teasing one of the Shinonome's or anyone in this group really!

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

@bleachtheidiot @prsk-krow @modyuki @miguelito-maruti-blog @wabatle @ravenmoon903 @hakulivesformusic @hayillaaaaaaa @muffin-the-dog121 @superstar-ethereal - come get your Nighrcord at 25~

@bleachtheidiot @akitosheart @wholesaleboi @wabatle @muffin-the-dog121 @ravenmoon903 @yulikesminori @toyaswif3y @miya-akane @hayillaaaaaaa @stellas-starry-stories13 @hakulivesformusic @luhvashh @akiritoz @sucodelaranja86 @toyaslove - come get your Vivid BAD SQUAD!

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epicbuddieficrecs · 9 months ago

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Fic rec for my BFF, pt. 1

My best friend is currently watching 9-1-1. I've been trying to get her onboard the Buddie ship and she is graciously tolerating me. She's asked for some fic recs and so this is what I came up with! I did have to work with a few parameters to fit her taste, the most important one being nothing post season 3 cause that's where she's up to and she didn't want spoilers.

Hope you enjoy these bestie!

Canon to Canon Divergent

Things We're All Too Young to Know by Daisies_and_Briar / @cal-daisies-and-briars

Canon S1-S6, S7 Spec | 123/? | 379K | Mature

This is a love story. Even if it doesn’t always look like it. Even if it doesn’t always feel like it. A look back on Eddie and Buck's lives up to now, and what led them to each other, interpreted from the current 9-1-1 canon.

THE canon fics to end all canon fics. I know it's still a WIP and it spans up to post-S6, but if you want a canon fic, that's the one to go for.

Leading with the Left by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels/ @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels

Canon Divergent, Different First Meeting, Stripper Buck | 84K | Explicit

When Buck said he was a "bartender" in "South America" what he actually meant was "stripper" in "Mexico." And when Eddie said, "What's your problem?" what he actually meant was, "Is this about the time you gave me a lap dance?" In other words, there's a few things the 118 doesn't know about Buck. Or Eddie. Or Buck and Eddie's relationship.

One of my most re-read fics. The smut is impeccable. The angst is so good. Absolutely love this fic!

Your Scars and Your Lonely Heart by Taste_is_Sweet

Sentinels AU, Canon Divergent - Tsunami | 82K | Teen

Clara Williams just wanted to visit Pacific Park during her layover in Los Angeles. She never expected to find a young, exceptional Sentinel dying for lack of a bond. Actually, what she really never expected was a tsunami, or the same Sentinel to save her life. But Clara's a Guide, so now she's on a mission to keep Evan "Buck" Buckley alive until she can get him to Eddie Diaz, the Guide who should have bonded with him, but didn't. Because Clara can't bond with Buck, no matter how much she wants to. There's just one problem: Buck's convinced Eddie doesn't want him, and he might not survive long enough to find out the truth.

Another one of my most re-read fics! I had never read a Sentinels AU before and I fell in love with the concept!

the distance to the stars by cloudydaisies

Didn't Know They Were Dating, Post-S3 | 27K | General

“Didn’t know you were seeing someone.” Buck just laughs. Like, honest to god giggles. Eddie is stuck fighting off doubly massive waves of butterflies and confusion, all while Buck just gazes down at him. “That’s cute,” he hears Buck mumble, just before climbing into the truck, calling Eddie after him. - or, everyone knows eddie is dating buck except for eddie, literally.

Don't know if you knew this, Marie, but Buddie is the #1 most tagged ship in the "Didn't Know They Were Dating" tag cause they're such idiots <3 and this is one of my favorite ones!

the weekly bet (but the forever kind) by theleftboobgrabber/ @theleftboobgrabber

Late S3, Getting Together | 49K | Explicit

“Thanks,” Eddie mumbles, hiding his face deep in his pillow, even if Buck can’t see him in the dark. “What for?” Leave it to Buck to be confused about something so obvious. “Being you, idiot.” “And again with the name calling,” he answers, content and sleepy. Nights like this, Eddie feels like asking for a miracle. But to the team, it wasn’t a matter of if Abby would take him back, but when. A matter of days. When the squad bets on how long it will take for Buck and Abby to get back together when she comes back to LA, Eddie is forced to reconsider keeping his feelings for Buck a secret.

Top tier pining + oblivious Eddie = 👌

Always, All Ways by ashavahishta/ @tevankinkley

A/B/O AU | 85K | Explicit

“Buck is very dear, Mr Diaz. Not only to me but to the pack. You’ll find that if you treat him with anything less than utmost respect you’ll have a lot of people to answer to.” Eddie swallowed. It was clear that in the absence of a mate, this omega had found himself a very protective pack. “Understood, sir.” Or: Buck’s the only omega in the 118. He’s got secrets, and walls a mile high. Eddie’s the alpha determined to knock them down.

There's not a ton of A/B/O fics in this fandom, and I should really try to read more of them, but this is probably my favorite one so far!

I Hit the Accelerator (But the Car was in Reverse) by extasiswings/@extasiswings, letmetellyouaboutmyfeels/@letmetellyouaboutmyfeels

S3, Friends With Benefits, BDSM | 68K | Explicit

When Buck is forced to confront the truth about his breakup with Abby, having casual sex with his hot new coworker seems like the best rebound idea. Unfortunately, that hot new coworker turns into his best friend. But best friends can keep having sex with each other, right? There's no way this could possibly go wrong.

THE friends with benefits fic! (ok lbr there's a ton of great ones, but this one is S2 focused iirc)

AUs

My Blood on Your Skin (My Rose on Your Snow) by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels/ @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels

Mythological AU, BDSM | 80K | Explicit

When Eddie needs cash and fast to take care of Christopher, his LAFD Academy buddy suggests a job as a bouncer at Elysium - an exclusive sex club in downtown Los Angeles. Eddie doesn't care what goes on there, so long as he's paid, but he finds he cares a lot bout the club's enigmatic owner, Evan Buckley, and it's not long before the two of them are violating every boss-employee rule in the book. But there's something different about Buck and the club, something not quite... human. If Eddie wants to keep Buck, he's going to have to delve into the world of immortals, and all the risks that implies.

You can expect amazing smut by this author as always, but also really interesting worldbuilding and characters!

All My Shattered Oaths by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels/ @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels

Vampires AU | 107K | Explicit

Eddie wants to stay away from his family’s legacy and give his son a normal life. Buck’s desperate to find a way to get over the love he lost. Fate has other plans for both of them.

SO GOOD. The canon divergent reincarnation vampire AU you didn't know you needed!!!

a bleeding sun on a silver screen by rarakiplin (gmontys)/ @hoediaz

Actors AU, Friends With Benefits | 130K | Mature

One day, Buck will tell an interviewer that he would be happy to make movies with Eddie Diaz until the day he dies. But first, years before that, he sees Eddie for the first time on the set of Chimney’s fifth movie.

An epic tale of movie making and enemies to friends to FWB to strangers to lovers!

The Truth of Love (Amas Veritas) by allyasavedtheday/ @littlespoonevan

Practical Magic AU | 20K | Teen

Bobby opens his mouth like he wants to argue but decides against it. “Walk me through the logic here then. How will this make sure you never fall in love?” “Because I’m making someone who doesn’t exist,” Buck explains, glancing from the half-full bowl to Bobby. He can’t work out what the look on Bobby’s face means so he pointedly elects to ignore it. “They’ll have brown hair,” he starts, clipping another petal from the rose bush. “And brown eyes-“ “Lotta people out there with brown hair and brown eyes, kid,” Bobby says lightly and Buck rolls his eyes. “But not many that can ride a horse backwards,” Buck counters. “And whose favourite shape is a star and who’s got…two scars,” he decides, plucking a basil leaf and dropping it in the bowl. “One on each shoulder.”

Because Practical Magic AUs always make me think of you <3

I'll Scrawl it on Every Wall I See by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels/ @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels

Canon Divergent, You've Got Mail Fusion | 29K | Teen

When Eddie joins the 118, he and Buck don't exactly hit it off on the right foot. Or continue to walk on the right foot. In fact they kind of can't stand each other. Good thing they each have a beloved anonymous pen pal to share their daily woes with, someone completely unlike their insufferable coworker.

I do love some good romcom vibes!

#buddie #buddie fic rec #epic buddie fic rec #buddie fanfiction #buddie fanfic #buddie fic #favorites

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joycew-art · 1 year ago

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I decided to make some character profiles for these guys to explain some characteristics and backstory. I've also decided to tag all of this as #rickcest poly au The text version of their profiles are under the Keep Reading

Miami Rick

Miami Rick became Morty's primary caretaker after a car accident killed the rest of the family. Morty was 2 years old when it happened.

Before he took care of Morty he was in contact with Beth, but he didn't live with the Smiths. Morty moved in with him in Miami after the accident.

Is extremely rich. Probably because of mafia-like activities. He also owns a lot of nightclubs, because he likes to party.

Officially Miami Rick is part of the Citadel, but he doesn't actually abide to their rules and doesn't live there either. He puts a lot funds in the city and he can pull that away for leverage, so the Council basically gives him free reign.

Comes and goes as he pleases in the Citadel cause Miami is a well-known Rick-fucker. He flirts with every Rick he meets and sleeps with them if he has their consent. They are always one night stands.

That is until he meets Cop Rick and he catches feelings.

Has a drug addiction instead of an alcohol addiction. He can smoke stuff that would kill a regular person.

Because of his knowledge of all kinds of drugs, he often uses them in battle.

Tuft Rick

Has Trauma™ (the anxiety has to come from somewhere)

He didn't marry his Diane, so he doesn't have an original Morty.

Got kidnapped in his twenties by a powerful alien after accidentally making contact while he was figuring out portal travel.

He was stuck in an abusive relationship with that alien, until he was rescued many decades later by Ricks from the Citadel.

Has been on the Citadel for about a decade as a guard and gets along well with his squad mates and Captain.

His squad mates are very protective of him, and vice versa. He's done a lot of physical training to protect himself and his friends. His favorite weapon is a pole arm, but he's skilled with many kinds of weaponry.

Got more trauma and fear as one of his squad mates and Captain got killed by Doofus Jerry. (Comic issues 22 & 23)

After that incident Tuft and his leftover squad mates planned to leave the Citadel. However they were found out and Tuft stayed behind to let his friends escape.

As punishment he isn't part of a squad anymore and is forced to take on jobs that other Ricks don't like or find too dangerous.

Cop Rick

Cop lost his original Morty in a past adventure. He doesn't like to talk about it.

The guilt made him flee to the Citadel. He never contacted his family about what happened.

Over there he wanted to become a cop so he could deliver justice to the Citadel, especially for Mortys.

Cop started to focus a lot on cold cases after killing his Morty partner. (s3 e7) A lot of Ricks are not interested in solving Morty murders or are blackmailed to ignore them.

After solving many of those cold cases Cop got put on a new investigation involving Morty murders. He met Miami during this case, cause one of the victims were found in one of his nightclubs. They ended up solving the investigation together.

During that case Cop started to get some feelings for Miami, but the guilt makes it hard to accept them, especially since Miami gets along with his Morty very well.

Can't get up in the morning without a cup of coffee.

He's made fun of by his colleagues for being kind and naive. But they are also jealous of his dedication and ability in solving the cold cases.

#rick and morty #rick sanchez #cop rick #miami rick #tuft rick #rickcest poly au #art #fanart #character profiles #illustration

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neon-junkie · 1 year ago

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In the Heat of the Moment - Chpt.8

Summary: “Less than ten percent of domesticated species go into heats,” accord to Tech and his research, and (un)fortunately, you’re one of that ten percent. What else are you meant to do? Trapped during a heat cycle with five men - five willing men who are happy to help relieve you, but not all have the confidence to say so.

Relationship: The Bad Batch x fem!Reader (she/her)

Tags: Heats, Mating, Sex pollen, Friends with benefits, Friends to lovers, Slow burn, Sex, Jealousy, Pining, Tags to be added.

Word count: 1.2k

[Chapter 1] [Chapter 9]

Chapter 8 - Scorching

"So, you… haven't been taking them?"

Hunter's voice throws you off guard, causing you to drop your tool with a clank!

Is there really any need to discuss this right now? The repairs are almost complete, and you can all finally leave this forsaken planet with its two cursed suns! However, your Sergeant, the one that has been avoiding you for weeks, now feels the need to address the Bantha in the room… or in this case, the desert.

You turn to look at him, barely a meter from you; his eyes flicker between his work, and your dazed expression. "You mean the supplements?" you question.

"Yeah," Hunter confirms with a light shrug of his shoulders.

"Nah, I haven't," you shrug back, and pick up your tool, returning to your work. It's not really his business, is it? There's no need to be nosey about such a thing.

A moment of silence becomes present, the sound of tools tinkering away fills up the void, yet you can feel the pulse of adrenaline rushing through your veins. You're getting defensive, and for good reasons.

"Why not?" Hunter finally quirks up, not bothering to look your way. It seems he isn't letting this go, is he?

"Didn't want to," you simply reply, matching his monotone demeanour. It doesn't take a Jedi to pick up on Hunter's sarkiness. Why he's bothered is beyond you, but if he can freely ask, then so can you! "Is that a problem?" you follow up.

"It has been, yes," Hunter confirms, finally looking your way as he continues working. "I won't deny that I find your… scent rather distracting, especially during missions."

"We're always on missions," you point out. Even if you aren't physically in action, you're either heading to your next target, or unwinding from the last one. Better yet, you're making amends from your previous one, and they can't come fast enough.

"Exactly. How am I meant to work with… that?" Hunter dares to comment. Now, work is no longer your priority. The tool in your hand becomes motionless as all of your attention turns to your Sergeant, whose defensive expression matches your own.

"I'm sorry that my biological needs are such a distraction to you," you snap. "Maybe if you followed your training better, then you'd be able to ignore my scent."

"And maybe if you'd taken the supplements like I originally asked, then I wouldn't have to put up with your scent, nor the sounds of you kriffing all of my squad!"

The nerve! The audacity!

The tool in your hand hits the sand with a soft thud, and you rest your hands on your hips, chest puffed out. It's just a smell, something that Hunter can easily ignore, but it seems his true intentions are coming to light. "I haven't slept with all of your brothers," you say with a mindless shrug, not that it's any of his business. Jealously really isn't a good look for him.

"Most of them," Hunter barks back.

"It's not my fault that they offered to help me out. I'd rather do that, then pop some mystery pills that you shoved into my hand! I don't even know where you purchased them from!"

Hunter's lips purse in annoyance as he takes a step closer towards you, attempting to one-up your stance. The sweat above his brow is clearly visible, possibly from frustration, or the blazing Tatooine heat. It doesn't help that he's chosen to work shirtless, his toned chest almost pushed into your face as he looks down at you, tanned and covered in a soft trail of hair. There is no need for him to be this close, and the more that he gets into your face, the more irate you become.

Hunter goes to open his mouth, but you beat him to it. "Get your boobs out of my face," you say as you swat his chest, taking a step back away from him. "If you want to help me out, then this isn't the way to approach it."

"I…" Hunter sputters, crossing his arms across his chest in some lousy attempt to cover up. "This isn't what I'm trying to do-"

"-Then what is it?" you interrupt him again. "Because it's pretty obvious that you want to 'help me out', rather than giving me those supplements," you shout, using your fingers to flex quotation marks. This is probably some elaborate scheme just to sleep with you, although you weren't expecting Hunter of all people to stoop that low.

Hunter's lips fall silent as his eyes refuse to meet yours. His furrowed brows fail to relax, as does his jaw, clenched firmly as his patience continues to run thin. He sucks in a deep breath whilst pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. Seconds pass, and you're waiting for him to burst, but when he finally speaks, he's as calm as ever.

"Finish up. The ship should be ready to depart."

And with that, Hunter leaves you to it, entering the Marauder. You can overhear him talking to Tech, muttering something about getting the engine running.

Now, it's your turn to suck in a deep breath, and attempt to steady your thumping heart. You've never argued with any of your boys, much less your Sergeant. A light squabble here and there, but never full-on arguing.

You almost feel… guilty, although you had every right to defend yourself! No matter.

As your eyes open, you're greeted by someone who is only going to fuel your fire. Crosshair is leaning against the Marauder's entranceway, arms crossed over his chest, a smug grin on his lips. He chuckles as you scowl at him.

"Not going to give Sarge a chance?"

"Kriff off."

Crosshair chuckles once more, and watches as you pick up your discarded tool, using it to secure the Ship's side panel into place. He allows you to finish before speaking up, instantly turning your concentrated expression sour.

"You know, hate sex is awfully pleasant," Crosshair states. Whether he's hinting at himself, or Hunter, is beyond you. Probably both, knowing Crosshair.

All you can do is barge past him, your shoulders clashing with force. "What's with you?" you scowl, meeting his gaze for a brief moment.

"I'm only pushing your buttons, Princess," Crosshair shrugs as he allows you to pass, keeping his stance despite wobbling from your aggressive gesture.

Not wanting to allow yourself to become even more angry, you don't bother responding, and instead head straight to your room. The repairs are somewhat done, and Tech is already firing up the engines. It's time to leave. Whether this ship will make it off this planet is beyond you, but right now, all you need is some space.

It's time for you to take a breather, and isolate yourself for a while.

#tbbwriting #in the heat of the moment #tbb #the bad batch #tbb x reader #reader insert #f!reader #female reader #hunter x reader #crosshair x reader #tbb hunter x reader #nsft

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call-sign-shark · 2 years ago

Note

I love your stories! Could you please write some more father figure mav and platonic dagger squad? Xx

awwww thank you so much anon, this one is for you! Me love cute platonic fluff, it's just so heartwarming ;w;

✨ Ohana Means Family ✨

Summary: During a movie night, the Dagger Squad fights over which movie to watch. While observing them, you realize that you, who never had a family, finally found one.

Words: 1k

Tags: PURE FLUFF, Platonic love, family fluff, DadMav and his Dagger kids // reader super close to Hangman

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

“But I don’t want to watch a horror movie!” Hangman complains, crossing his arms on his muscular chest. Bob lowers his head, disappointed.

“You never listen to any of my suggestions anyway.” He says with a little voice, readjusting his glasses on his nose.

“Bob, you ALWAYS suggest horror movies. Last month we did a Saw marathon. And you were the only one enjoying it. Payback almost fainted.”

“That’s not true! I was just… Just tired!” Payback retorts from below. He is sitting on the floor, holding the bowl of popcorn between his legs. He has already eaten half of it, even if the movie had not started yet.

“What about a Disney?” Phoenix suggests.

“To hell with Disney, it’s been two weeks we only watch Disney movies.”

“Come on, everyone likes them.”

“The problem is not the movies themselves. It’s Rooster constantly singing the songs during and after the movies.” Hangman rolls his eyes, laying on the sofa with his head on your lap and his legs on Coyote's.

“Fuck you, Jake. At least I don’t choose spaghetti westerns.” Rooster growls, also sitting on the floor. He is braiding Shark’s long blonde mane with surprising patience.

At one point you stop listening to the argument. When a dagger suggests a movie, another one immediately complains. This is a vicious circle. Yet, your Y/EC eyes carefully observe everyone while your hand absentmindedly pets Hangman’s blonde hair. He had just closed his eyes, almost purring at your touch. Sometimes he winces when he hears a movie title he does not like.

“Star Trek?”

A pillow flies across the room and hits Fanboy right in the face. The WSO shakes his head, looks dagger at Shark, and throws it back. You don't need to listen to the conversation: you know he probably suggested the old Stark Trek movies. After all, that is why you all call him Fanboy. The pillow flies again yet Rooster and Shark slightly tilt on the same side simultaneously, avoiding the pillow.

“And what about a musical?”

Judging by the storm of protests, Coyote understands that his tastes in movies are far from winning unanimous support. You cannot help but smile, your fingers still massaging Hangman’s head. A faint and amused smirk appears on your beautiful lips: It is the same hilarious struggle each night. The Daggers would reunite in the living room and fight over the movie to watch, while Maverick would prepare snacks in the kitchen. Popcorn, nachos with guacamole and cheese, and fresh beers.

You suddenly feel a cold and wet muzzle sniffing your free hand. You take a quick look at your left side, only to see Crashtest’s big face looking at you with his shining beady eyes. His large mouth is open, tongue hanging. You chuckle when looking at the dog and finally run your free hand through the pale fur of his neck. Here you are, forced to pet both Hangman and Crashtest.

Crashtest is a big beige American Pitbull whose owner is Shark, but he quickly becomes the family’s dog. She called him so because, when he was a puppy, he would run everywhere and bump against the walls.

A soft sigh escapes from your lips as you realize that you have found a family. A broken, small, and weird family… But a true one.

“So, what are we watching tonight?” Mav’s voice echoes in the living room and snatches you from your thoughts. He obviously knows that no one managed to reach agreement. He lays the plates on the table and raises an eyebrow while looking at the young pilots scattered in the room, “Are you serious? Alright. Since you can’t decide…” He pauses and his emerald eyes fall on you, “Y/CS? What do you want to watch? You have the last word.”

Surprised, you look at Mav, then at the Dagger Squad, and then at Mav again. To be true he had caught you off guard.

“So?” Hangman asks. He had just reopened his eyes and is now looking at you with an adorable yet slightly cocky grin, his head still comfortably resting on your lap.

“Lilo and Stitch.” You say out of nowhere, suggesting the first movie that had crossed your mind at this moment. “I want to watch Lilo and Stich.” You repeat, and this time you are delighted with your choice. It seems like a perfect movie for your adoptive family.

“YESSS!” Phoenix and Rooster exclaim. The dog barks happily, wanting to join the party. Surprisingly enough, everyone kind of agrees with you. Even Hangman, who has complained about Disney movies twenty minutes ago.

“Lilo and Stich.” Mav concludes, visibly satisfied with your decision, before letting his body fall on the huge L-shapes sofa he had bought to welcome all his kids at home. Doing so, he forces Hangman to move in order to avoid getting crushed by him. The blonde pilot growls and, sitting next to you, wraps his muscular arm around your shoulders. The feeling of his warm skin against yours is soothing. With butterflies in your stomach, you snuggle against him. You and Hangman have been closer these past few weeks since you saved his life during a mission.

As Maverick grabs the remote and scrolls to find the movie, all the daggers join him, Hangman, and you on the couch no matter if they have to snuggle against each other to all fit. Lilo and Stitch’ s intro starts and fills the room with the sweet melody of He Mele No Lilo. Before focusing on the movie, you take a quick look across the room.

Phoenix’s head rests on Bob’s shoulder.

Payback, Coyote, and Fanboy are nudging each other, trying to hold their laugh.

Rooster keeps playing with one of Shark’s braids while her hand gently strokes Mav’s thigh.

As for you, Hangman keeps you in his arms. Hugging you as if his own life depends on it. His sweet and masculine fragrance tingles your nostrils.

Another bark: Crashtest climbs on the couch and the gentle brute rests his head on your lap.

A soft smile stretches your lips.

They are your Ohana.

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akingdomscrypt · 10 months ago

Text

Forget-Me-Not

Part One

Pairing; Gaz x male!reader

WC; ~6.3k

Warnings; none? I don't think?? Lemme know if there are any I should tag

Summary; gaz is definitely an attraction-at-first-sight kinda man/ it's time to wake up from that coma bby <33

A/n; when I said 'fluffy' I meant no one was gettin tortured this time around . Also, yes, this is definitely a set up for a ton of angst content <3 (note the unfinished ch title) There's going to be a "missing scenes" feel to this one, that's intentional.

Edit- I forgot to mention, this takes place before the other two fics, during the mw2 campaign (tho I definitely spread out the events bc no way could this all take place in the span of a week)

---"this is how we began,"---

Kyle had just gotten back from almost a week of being tossed around like a damn ping-pong ball when he met them. Or, rather, met you.

Fresh out of the shower—yet he swore he could still smell that filthy water on himself—and bored out of his mind with nothing else to do.

It would take a bit of time before Laswell fed them some more actionable intel, and to Kyle's knowledge, the two other members of their team were already on the hunt in Mexico. So all there was to do was wait.

Well, Kyle figured he could probably use this time to catch up on some much needed rest—but where was the fun in that?

He couldn't sleep, not right now, not when Price had informed him of a new squad touching down at their base this afternoon. According to the captain, they—around five or so soldiers—were just here to provide support if needed.

Kyle didn't think it was necessary, but it's not like he had any say in the matter. Especially since, apparently, the squad would only be using their base as a rest stop between their own missions. So, again, he didn't see the point.

But, like any curious soldier would do—and any who were a bit skeptical about their newest comrades—, Kyle was already beelining his way to where he knew the newcomers would touch down.

Kyle had paid attention to the bare minimum information needed to avoid butting heads with the group, but never dug much further than that. Some American mercenaries under General Shepard's direct command and, as he'd mentioned before, here to provide support or something. Again, he hadn't paid much mind to the info thrown at him; honestly didn't think he'd end up meeting them anyhow.

Only when he finally gets out on the tarmac Kyle doesn't immediately rush to greet the new soldiers as he usually would. He comes to a full stop, previously resting heartbeat now running a marathon in his chest, gaze zeroed in on you.

Seeing you—your form lax and almost casual in comparison to your stiff-postured comrades, a certain air of confidence surrounding you—made Kyle wish he'd done a bit more research, asked a few more questions.

Dressed no differently from the rest, there was nothing particularly interesting about you. Nothing that should draw him in so wholly upon merely seeing you. He couldn't even see your face, for fuck's sake—nor could he see any of the rest of the squad's, but that's besides the point.

You hadn't even glanced his way and Kyle was acting like a schoolboy seeing his crush in the hall between classes.

“You're staring, Kyle.”

“Mh- Wha-?” He drags his attention away from you, wholly prepared to start spluttering out his defense when he recognizes the man who'd come to stand beside him. Noticing the barest hint of a smile pulling at his captain's mouth.

With a soft scoff Kyle looks away again, shaking his head a little. “Not at all, Cap’, just scoping out the newcomers. That's all.”

As anyone else would do, of course.

But they both know it's a lie.

Right before Price has the chance to open his mouth again—likely to playfully call Kyle out on his bullshit in that gruff way of his—the aforementioned group of newbies comes to a stop in front of them.

Two in front, three fanned out behind them. Five after all, it seemed. You and some guy in the front, the rest Kyle wasn't sure of, their identities far too obscure to tell.

“Cap-” The guy standing beside you starts to speak, only to be roughly—albeit probably playfully—nudged aside by your elbow, effectively cutting him off.

“Greetin’s Captain,” you say, amusement obvious in your tone, a slight wrinkling at the corners of your eyes betraying a hidden smile.

And Kyle would be lying if he said he wasn't completely enraptured as you spoke. Barely even registering the hand you held out to shake Price’s hand.

“Shadow 0-9, at your service,” though there's still a hint of humor in your voice, there's a certain air of professionalism to it too. Even as you retract your hand and raise it, fingers curled into a fist and thumb jutted out, to gesture to the soldiers around you.

Starting with the one beside you, then on to the three behind you, right to left. “Joined by Shadows 0-3, 1-4, 1-5, and 2-3.”

Then it's on to the actually serious stuff. “Commander Graves has sent us under the General's orders to stay here and provide assistance to your cause if need be. Though mostly we will be carrying out our own missions and using your base as a landing zone between operations.”

And again, amused—your flip-flopping emotions were going to give him whiplash at this rate.

This time clapping a heavy, gloved hand on 0-3’s shoulder, the slight crinkle around your eyes returning. “If y'all got any questions, feel free to ask me,” lightly jostling 0-3 now. “these imbeciles hardly got a clue what's goin' on half the time anyway.”

It's obvious the other four Shadows are used to your antics, as none of them even bat an eye at your, likely empty, insult to their intelligence.

Kyle zones out as Price goes over his own spiel, mind somehow blissfully blank as he stands beside his captain. Thumbs subconsciously slung through his belt loops in place of gripping his vest like he usually would, gaze focused on the group in front of him, giving all the impressions of some serious, gold-star sergeant attentively paying attention to his CO.

That couldn't be further from the truth.

The spell Kyle is under only breaks when Price directs his attention his way, drawing his focus when the man says, “-gent Garrick ‘ere will show you lot around. All the standard things; barracks, mess, rec and the works-”

He then proceeds to space out again when your gaze slips from Price and to Kyle instead, not a single thing out of place as you analyze him.

It feels like you've got a scalpel to his skin, peeling away layer after layer. Through the muscle and fatty tissue, and deeper still, until you've reached the bone, and you keep going.

It's not uncomfortable, the way you tear into him like a rabid hound gobbles up a raw steak. Or maybe not rabid, no, you're not feral. You’re cool and calculating and yet playful all the same. A working dog, a trained hound, then.

It's more.. Kyle doesn't think he harbors the vocabulary to put it into words how he feels about it; flayed alive under your watchful gaze. It's strange. But it's not.. bad.

It's been all of five seconds when your eyes flicks away from him. A quick scan, a once over, just as he had done to your squad, and then you're fixated on Price again.

Price who's still talking, saying things Kyle doesn't have the wherewithal to bring himself to care about. Not when he felt so viscerally raw and unbelievably vulnerable in his own damn base at the moment.

He has a few more seconds to compose himself before Price finishes up and all five of the collectives’ attention is on him, expectant.

And so Kyle plasters on a carefree expression, the corner of his mouth quirked up in a half-smile, and casually nudges Price with a loose fist. A mused, “thanks, Cap'” and such, then he's taking charge.

Voice level and strong, like any typical self-respecting Sergeant, as he turns and urges the group to follow.

The last thing Kyle expects is for you to fall into step beside him—with the impression of your personality he'd gathered, it shouldn't be a surprise—, only lagging a half-step behind, a grin obvious under your mask.

His brain short-circuits, but Kyle quickly recovers, keeping his focus locked straight ahead and decidedly not looking at you. Not for any reason in particular.

“Sergeant,” You drawl—and, fuck, it was just a rank, a title, several others held the same one. So why the hell did it feel so different when you said it?

“Got somethin’ on your mind-” Kyle begins casually, as if his heart wasn't doing literal jumping jacks in his ribcage right now. And it takes him a brief moment to remember what he was supposed to call you, wracking his brain for answers, before he finishes with a bland, “0-9?”

God, he hoped that was the right number. There were five of you, all these numbers were going to be a struggle to keep up with.

“Oh, none ‘a that.” You say with a soft chuckle, waving him off. “I know those digits can get a bit confusing. Call me Viper, that's what everyone else calls me anyway.”

Viper? Like a fucking snake? Not that Kyle had any room to judge; not when two of his teammates were a cleaning product and a Hot Topic employee.

Shite, that probably also meant you wanted him to extend the same damn olive branch. Kyle considered himself a pretty social man, he could hold his own in a group, could approach strangers with almost the same confidence he did with friends.

But there was something about you.

And Kyle wasn't sure if it was good or not.

“A’right, Viper,” Kyle doesn't remember swiping his keycard, but he does jump right back into his body when his hand curls around the handle, pulling the door open and letting you in first before letting your comrades struggle with the heavy door after him. Taking his place just that half a step in front of you once more. “They call me Gaz.”

“There a story behind that one?” You ask, not a single ounce of hesitation or delay.

“That depends, there one behind yours?” Kyle quips right back, not missing a beat.

Kyle's ears pick up the tiniest huff you let out, but nothing else. “That depends,” you mimic. “how much you wanna know?”

“Whatever you'll give me.” It was easy to lay the charm on thick, but it seemed almost like a competition between you two, as you quickly fired back.

“Desperate, are we, Sergeant?” Kyle could've swore you just, honest to God, purred when you said that. But he must've just been hearing things.

“Just curious.” You had asked first. How had this turned on him?

“Mm, think I'll just leave ya guessing.” You muse, closing that half-step distance to just barely brush your arm up against his, and then back to your place again. “It'll be more fun that way.”

Kyle nearly forgets there's four other people witnessing this conversation right then.

Finally alone again, and having gotten the new squad settled in properly, Kyle takes a moment for himself.

As of right now apparently his fellow sergeant and good ‘ol lieutenant were currently taking a tour around Mexico, and Price was out doing very important Captain-things, so Kyle was entirely on his own.

On his own to deal with whatever the fuck that dumpsterfire of a base tour that had been.

He'd been entirely sidetracked by you the whole time! It didn't make any sense, what did you have that the other soldiers didn't?

You all wore the same uniform, all bore the same random-ass numbers, all were just a bunch of trained killers- there was literally nothing to set you apart!

A lot of people were touchy by nature, especially in professions like this that were built on comradery, Soap certainly was, so there was no reason in the deepest parts of hell for why-

Kyle groans softly to himself, running a hand over his hair before pushing himself up and off his desk chair.

There was no rhyme or reason to it, to why he, in the most cheesy fucking way, honestly felt a goddamn spark when you touched him.

And it wasn't even in the realm of- of intimate. It was a simple brush against him here and there, made perfect sense too! You'd been standing so close the entire time- it was only expected that once and a while you two would graze each other now and again.

He's pacing now, wishing nothing more than to be able to pick up his phone and call the only man who'd be able to help him make sense of all these weird feelings. And also the only man who'd call him daft and his brother in the same sentence.

But he can't do that, so Kyle resigned to simply doing what he should've done in the first place after his furious scrub down in the shower; take a damn nap.

Kyle's first impression of your personality had been wildly off-mark.

If he was going off of how he'd first perceived you last week on the tarmac, he would say that you were easygoing, gave off a more.. laid back energy, maybe even a bit quick-witted.

But his current observations said everything but that.

Kyle had been trying to skirt past all the tired, bleary-eyed soldiers that passed him in the hall without being noticed by the more lively of the bunch; he didn't have the energy for that right now. The last few had nearly flown by him though, wide-eyed and clearly spooked.

Confused, Kyle had brushed it off and continued walking. Sometimes these men were like wild horses, alerted by the smallest mishaps.

Kyle becomes keenly aware of exactly why those last stragglers had appeared so frightened when he turns down the next corner, on his way to the rec room, when he spots you.

Or, more accurately, spots you tearing one of your own soldiers a new one in the empty corridor. The very self-explanatory as to why, isolated corridor.

He gets the gist of it fairly quickly, even as the words flying out of your mouth go in one ear and out the other without a hint of recognition.

The shorter man had obviously fucked something up, and was now hearing it in all the jumbled mix of curses and slang Kyle couldn't even begin to comprehend.

“An' if I eva’ ‘ear ya sayin' shit like that again I'll ‘ave ya scrapin’ shit out the muck from the break ‘a dawn ‘n ‘til the damn cows come home, ya hear?” You spit, masked face mere centimeters away from the other's. A gloved hand fisted in 1-5’s, if he remembered correctly, shirt collar, making him have to nearly raise to the toe of his boots in order to not be choked by the fabric.

There's a venomous flare in your eyes when you snap to look at him, a misstep on his part alerting you, and Kyle has never felt more conflicted in his life.

“Everything good here, Viper?” Obviously not, but what else was he supposed to say?

“Just peachy.” You grit out, fingers slowly unfurling from 1-5’s shirt. In turn the poor man is able to lower himself back onto the ground fully, letting out an obvious breath of relief when your hand pulls back completely, falling clenched at your side.

The brave soul who had somehow triggered the brunt of your aggression manages to stand there a little longer until you huff out a gruff, “dismissed.” And send 1-5 on his way.

Though not before barking out a, “And be sure ‘ta relay the message ‘ta Pierce!” As the man scurries away, a quick “yes, sir!” choked out over his shoulder.

“And if I asked what that was about?” Kyle asks when 1-5 is out of sight, raising a curious eyebrow.

“I'd say it ain't yer business, Garrick.” You snap, still obviously not having gotten the frustration out of your system. Kyle's first instinct is to throw another quip right back at you, extra sarcasm on top like it's sprinkles and he's making a damn sundae, and he almost does, but Kyle quickly slams his mouth back shut before the words escape.

Instead he sighs and relaxes his posture.

“Y’look like shit.”

That seems to put a halt to whatever was rampaging through your head, the rage clearing for a moment to make room for shock first, then confusion.

“..what?” Your clearly puzzled gaze—so expressive, even with the mask—would be humorous, if not for the truth to Kyle's words.

You did look like shit. Like someone had run a train on you—literally. A real one; honk honk, rattle rattle and all. Your hair ruffled, matted with some unknown substance and sticking up in every which direction. The black paint around your eyes was smudged away and exposed your true skin tone, well.. kinda. Now with the additional flavor of mud and debris.

Even with the limited access he had to your face, Kyle would say you looked.. tired. Run ragged—maybe that train wasn't all that metaphorical. Beneath the anger it was clear as day you were just exhausted; you looked nothing like that first day he'd met you, when he had shown you around base.

Hidden grin and playful banter replaced with a stiff posture and veiled limp—yeah, he definitely noticed that part. You weren't the only observant one here.

“I said you look like shit, mate.” Kyle says. His clarification doesn't, well, clear anything up for you, if anything just frustrating you further. Making your eyebrows furrow in a way that's almost cute.

You huff, posture straightening even though Kyle can see the way the new position puts a strain on your worn body- he doesn't mention it. It's not his place.

“Thanks.” You reply, voice flat.

“It was a compliment.” It wasn't.

Deadpan, “really?”

“Mhm.” But Kyle stays firm in his resolve.

“I aim to please.”

“Clearly.” And there it is. Kyle can't see it, obviously, but the small twitch of your features, the slightest crinkle at the corner of your eye, tells him he has succeeded. Even if it's not your usual smile—not that he would know what that looked like.

Another puff of air from you, closer to a sigh this time. “Did you need somethin', Gaz?”

The heat is gone, but Kyle can see the way the embers linger; ready to reignite at the first spark.

“How ‘bout we take a walk, mh?” He wasn't planning on a walk, really, but Kyle wasn't actively planning against one either. “Clear your head a bit?”

You look like you want to brush him off, hesitating like you want to say no and rush off just like your subordinate had. But you don't. “..sure.”

And that's all Kyle needs to tilt his head in the direction he came from before turning around.

Kyle doesn't have to look back to know you've taken your place the position on his left, half a step behind him. Just as you had that first day.

It becomes a sort of.. routine.. after that. And while Kyle hadn't seen much of you that first week, you make an appearance by his side—always on the left, always half a step behind—more often than not.

A little spark of some unidentifiable emotion lighting up in your eyes when you see him. Kyle isn't quite certain what it means, but if it meant he got to see you more often, he was fine with not knowing.

You were.. friends. Or as much as you could be in this situation, one Kyle knew was temporary. Which had the man trying to heed Ghost's advice for once and not get attached; there was no telling when either of you would be shipped out again, never to return.

“Gaz!” The sound of your voice is unmistakable when shouted over the noisy chatter of the cafeteria, and Kyle's heart definitely does not do a weird flip when he hears it. Definitely not.

Yeah, so he may or may not be struggling with the whole following Ghost's advice thing. Hey! He said he was trying, not that it was actively working.

“Viper.” Kyle greets when you take a seat in front of him. Usually he would have lunch with his dear captain, but Price was even more busy as of late—and reasonably so—and the lack of that familiar presence was really starting to wear on him. Made the lack of another pair of comrades much more prominent.

“Did you know your bellybutton is actually attached to your bladder-”

You filled in that empty space a little.

“What? I thought it was just cut off from everything else?”

Kyle never did find out what had you so down in the dumps, but it wasn't his place to know anyway. Everyone had their secrets.

“No! There's a lil' line that travels from your bellybutton down to your bladder. That's why it feels so damn weird when touched-”

You were a little spitfire. Reminded him of Soap, kinda. Except Soap didn't flip flop from fiery rage one moment to calm and collected the next, buttery smooth words dripping with innuendo.

And then there was right now, where you shared the strangest little factoids with Kyle.

“And don't even get me started on the dormant blood vessel in your liver-”

And that is where Kyle drew the line.

“Nope, nope, nope-” Kyle says, waving a fork in your general direction. Amused when you gasp in surprise, as if he's threatening you with something more substantial than this flimsy plastic. “I am eating. I don't wanna hear gross facts about my anatomy.”

“Would you prefer a physical demonstration on anatomy instead?”

And that was the weird innuendos he mentioned before. Sure, Soap and him shared a few playful taunts now and again, occasionally the rest of the team would chime in—and there was whatever the hell Soap and Ghost had going on, but Kyle didn't think those were all jokes. But this felt.. different.

“You are a menace, you know that?” Kyle huffs, twirling some bland mush around the fear-inspiring fork from before; now that he wasn't actively threatening you with it.

A dramatic gasp, and Kyle doesn't even have to look up to know you look just as dramatized as you sound.

“I am a damn saint, Gaz!”

“Rigghhhht, is that what we're calling this?” He does look up this time, and the slight widening of your eyes, the little glimmer of something hiding in those captivating hues, makes him glad he did. Pocketing that adorable priceless look on your face for safekeeping.

“I've got the body, the attitude,” you count with both hands, a finger for each listed item. Gaze on something vaguely to your right as you think. “And the charm! That's like- the fuckin' holy trinity. I'm a damn holy temple, I tell ya!”

“Sure you are, mate.” Kyle says, a small grin on his face that he couldn't get rid of even if he wanted to. It does make eating a little difficult though.

He tries not to linger on the fact that you never eat in front of him. But you always come to hang out with him anyway.

Things are good between you two, and Kyle feels warm and giddy every time you grace him with your, as you'd once put it, saintly presence. He doesn't ponder much as to the why he feels this way; not that it really matters, this was temporary and you'd be shipped off somewhere else eventually.

That space to his left feels cold when you're not there, empty, and even though he's never worked with you in the field, Kyle finds himself looking back, expecting you to be there when he crawls through tall grass and mud in that suffocating ghillie suit.

It's dumb and Kyle doesn't know why he does it, but he half expects you to chip in a word or two over his shoulder in the midst of his playful banter with Price and Laswell. When he is, once again, pushing through tall grass. Only this time he gets to snipe a few dozen unsuspecting soldiers from hundreds of meters away.

Things are going well, so damn well, almost too good to be true. And it is.

Kyle would have never expected to hear such raw panic in his captain's voice, accustomed to the man's usual gruff and composed behavior. It strikes fear right into Kyle's core, cutting through his chest and piercing directly into the sergeant's heart.

In the beginning, Kyle had been eager to get this over with and fly back to base with the expectation of seeing you again; now that idea was nothing but a passive thought as his mind was clouded with a worry mirroring Price's.

Kyle's entire torso feels like it's been ripped to shreds when they touch down on base again, every step shooting sparks of pain through his nerves and reminding him why he hates heights so damn much. But at least they managed to get Laswell back before anything could go terribly wrong. They had Farah and her soldiers to thank for that.

Wanting nothing more than to soak himself in a tub of scalding hot water, and knowing he'll have to settle for a lukewarm shower instead, then sleep the pain away, Kyle's path is interrupted by the sight of you marching down the corridor.

“Gaz! Shit- there you are!” You call when a few paces away from him, a sort of relief obvious in your breathy tone. You come to an abrupt halt right in front of him, blocking Kyle's way and causing him to come to a sudden stop lest he accidentally crash into you.

Your eyes are analytical and Kyle is far too exhausted to decipher the several layers of emotion that flash through your gaze.

In the end you seem to come to some sort of conclusion, stating a flat, “Y’look like shit.”

“Yeah,” Kyle huffs out a surprised laugh; the phrase reminiscent of when he'd caught you chewing out one of your soldiers. “Falling out of a helicopter doesn't usually make for a pretty sight.”

“Fuckin'- pardon!?” Your eyes go wide, and Kyle would bet your mouth was hanging open right now too. “How the hell did that even happen?”

Kyle couldn't reveal too much of their little rendezvous in Urzikstan, but he could tell you the gist of it. Namely how the fuck he got tossed out of Nikolai's helicopter like a damn ragdoll.

“Was helping out a friend,” car hopping and trying not to get shot at in the process. “Got a bit tossed around, you know how it is- RPG, couldn't deploy countermeasures in time..”

“Luckily I got the rope latched in time, shit hurt the most when the rope ran out.” Kyle's hip bones ache at the memory, and he knows for certain his body will be one giant bruise in the morning.

“Are- are you okay-?” You stammer, gaze no longer on him and now flicking over his dirtied uniform. Never lingering on one spot.

“I'll bounce back soon eno-” Your hands reach out then, as if wanting to touch him and make sure for yourself. Kyle cuts off mid sentence, eyes widening by a fraction and body going stiff.

As if just realizing what you were doing, your hands pause where they are, hovering awkwardly between the two of you. Your gloves and his own gear serve as a thick barrier between your bodies, but Kyle swears there is an energy buzzing there; an electric static thriving in the air between you both, the tension near suffocating.

“I'm just gonna..” it takes Kyle a second to realize you've fully retracted your hands by now, a stale awkwardness lingering between you two.

Kyle isn't sure whether to feel disappointed or be appalled by how much he wished you had touched him. Between the fluctuating altitudes he'd endured and the full body ache he was currently experiencing, Kyle comes to the conclusion that it must just be the exhaustion finally kicking in. Yes, of course. That is why he was mourning the loss of something that hadn't even happened. There was no other possible reason.

Clearing his throat with a stilted cough, Kyle nods. “Y-yeah, definitely. And I should take that shower..”

“Of course, yeah-” Your gaze is downcast now, arms tucked behind your back and Kyle notes the nervous shift of your weight from one foot to the other. “You- you do that.”

“Yeah.” And then Kyle hightails his ass out of there, it's a little awkward—who is he kidding, it's beyond awkward. And how many times was he going to say awkward, would any other synonyms suffice? You had been standing in front of him, so Kyle has to do a weird little hop to the side to get around you- which then triggers you into motion. And you step to the side to get out of his way.

Only the direction your subconscious chooses is once again right in his path and Kyle stumbles over his own feet, barely avoiding colliding with you but pulling on his sore muscles in a way that has him digging his teeth into his lip to avoid letting out a sharp yelp.

When Kyle regains his balance, the hallway is empty and you're nowhere to be found. With a deep sigh, and a heavier weight on his shoulders than before, Kyle straightens back up and continues on his way to his initial destination.

There better be some warm water left when he gets there.

As it turned out, falling out of a helicopter and just barely surviving by sheer luck did actually have its drawbacks and one couldn't just walk away with a few scrapes and expect to be a-okay in the ol’ nob up top.

For Kyle that meant various scenes playing out in his dreams of what could have happened, not what did. Ranging from him not having clipped the hook onto his gear right, to the rope just snapping in half the minute Kyle reached the end of the line. Even some where he just straight up splat into the back of one of the many trucks that had been flying by. The worst had to be when the helo was hit dead on and Kyle wasn't even given the chance to make things right, bleeding out and dying right then and there in the cabin of Nikolai's helicopter.

Waking up drenched in a cold sweat wasn't anything new to the sergeant, but waking up alone, as of late, was. Usually he was bunked up with Soap, and when not on base, or stationed on another, he was grouped up with other soldiers.

Being forced into the waking world with his heart lodged in his throat and beating so fast it was practically trying to escape, with the aches and bruises that made the nightmares all that more real, and being stuck inside a dark, empty room? Now that just wasn't pleasant at all.

Pushing through the stabbing aches radiating throughout his body, Kyle forces himself to stand, haphazardly throws on an old hoodie and decides right then and there he needs a cup of tea. Extra steamy.

The walk to the common room, and subsequently the kitchenette beyond that, is short and Kyle doesn't have to think about it when he places one foot in front of the other. His legs easily carried him to his destination without the need for any extra brainpower.

Kyle doesn't notice the looming figure in the dark, obscured by shadow in the corner of the rec room, until he's already got a burning hot mug between his hands. Passing back through now that he's got his tea, he's graciously welcomed back by a lamp in the corner flicking on.

He blames the high-pitched squeal that rips from his throat on his exhaustion and not that he'd been spooked by a fucking light of all things.

“Viper- shit,” He breathes, the hand not currently cradling the mug flying up to clutch at his heart.

“Sorry.” You murmur, sounding a bit sheepish. Your voice is a little deeper than usual and Kyle assumes you must've also woken up recently. He opts to ignore the small flutters that erupt in his stomach at the sound. “Couldn't sleep. Didn't think anyone else would be out ‘ere, wasn't tryna startle ya.”

Kyle moves to wave off your concern, only to wince at the strain it puts on his sore muscles, sucking in a sharp breath between his teeth.

You, ever the observant bastard, immediately zero in on his discomfort, one of your eyebrows quirking upward as you study him.

“Alright?”

Not trusting his voice, Kyle hums a noncommittal sound, and, trying to appear at least a little put together, straightens his posture and steps forward.

But the pain is worse now and he nearly spills his tea, instinctively tightening his grip around the steamy mug.

Fuck, Kyle had known it would hurt—Christ’s sake, he had literally fallen out of a damn helicopter—but he had obviously severely underestimated how bad it would be. Now, he was used to pain, you didn't get very far in this line of work without at the very least some tolerance for the aches and burns.

But this? This was a pain that went from an average sort of soreness in the muscles of his thighs, to sharp stabbing pains in his hips and a near debilitating throbbing ache that spanned over practically his entire torso.

Everything hurts. Laying down hurts. Standing hurts. Sitting hurts. Everything. Unless he stayed completely still, Kyle's entire body felt like one giant bruise. Any little twitch of a muscle sent a stabbing shock straight to his nervous system.

You're on your feet and standing in front of him before Kyle even has a chance to right himself again. When had his breathing become so labored?

There's no hesitation this time around, no awkwardness when your hands shoot out. Grasping his shoulders, your hold gentle yet firm, and stabilizing Kyle where he stood.

Kyle isn't quite sure when it had happened, but the warmth of his mug was gone. Replaced by the heat of your own body from where his hands rested—really, more or less hanging on for dear life; he'd be ashamed if he had the wherewithal to do so—on your waist. Fingers curled tight, twisted and snagged into the fabric of your shirt.

If Kyle hadn't been so out of it from the sheer amount of pain he was in, he would've noticed your lack of uniform. More dressed down than he'd ever seen you—though a mask still firmly in place, he would've noticed if it were otherwise.

“Did anyone check you out when you came back?” Kyle has to actively work to zone back in on the rough timber of your voice, his mind sluggish as it works through each word and syllable.

“Y- kinda? I wasn't bleeding out or nothing.”

“Oh, fuck's sake-” you let out a heavy exhale, and Kyle, though as disorientated as he currently is, can here the unsaid you’re a goddamn idiot clear as day in that singular breath.

“Alright. You're comin' with me.”

“Wh- huh?”

“With me. No questions, Garrick.” You hold no authority over him, if anything, this being his base, and not yours, Kyle had a bit more of a say in matters than you did. And yet, when you release your hold and untangle yourself from his, Kyle follows.

There is nothing stopping you from touching him now. Not since last night.

Kyle can still feel your hands, strong and yet so, so unbelievably delicate, running across his skin. Scouring his abdomen for anything that would clue you in on whether he had internal bleeding or not, pressing down on his bruised rib cage, checking for breaks in the fragile bone.

Thankfully, you find nothing but the bruising painted clearly on his skin, and Kyle can't get the picture, the feel, of your hands brushing over his stomach. Up his sides and down to his hips, further still to his aching thighs. The latter had been over his clothes, but the heat of your palms had been more than enough.

The following day, and practically every waking second now, Kyle's mind and eyes were on you. If he couldn't see you, he was thinking about you. And if he could see you, you were usually at his side. A hand on his shoulder, an elbow nudging his arm.

Kyle now found himself in an odd state of yearning. His body craved your touch in a way it never had for any other's. His heart skipped a couple beats every time he even caught sight of you.

And when you touched him? Shit, Kyle had to hope and pray the blush he could feel warming his cheeks wasn't as visible as it felt.

Kyle wasn't quite sure why he reacted to you the way he did. And, honestly, he wasn't quite sure he wanted to. He was perfectly content not knowing—was he? Or was he just burying what he didn't want to acknowledge?

He didn't ruminate on the fact that Soap had a tendency to touch him similarly—but, shit, it was different, wasn't it?—, and never had Kyle once responded to it the way he did with you.

If Price had noticed—which he likely hadn't with what was going on halfway around the globe. Soap and Ghost stuck somewhere in Mexico, and of course the constant planning on what their next move would be. The captain didn't mention it.

If Soap was here, he'd probably call Kyle out on his bullshit. But he wasn't, and Kyle was perfectly alright with continuing to ignore the, definitely one-hundred percent platonic, convoluted emotions he felt towards you.

Things were good; the last thing Kyle wanted was to accidentally rock this delicate sailboat when he currently had unlimited access to your bubbling laugher, sarcastic quips, and crinkling eyes.

A Viper, that's what you were nicknamed after, and, with that fiery attitude of yours, Kyle was starting to understand why.

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If you want to be added to the tag list, let me know in the comments!

(also if you change ur user and still wanna be a part of the list, let me know pls)

#i had a lot of trouble when tranfering this one from my google docs #hopfully nothin is off abt jt..#call of duty #cod x male reader #male reader #call of duty x male reader #call of duty x reader #reader insert #gay #gaz x male reader #gaz call of duty #gaz cod

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giggly-squiggily · 14 days ago

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MORE BLUE LOCK THOUGHT COMING RIGHT UP 🩷🩷

- when bachira got declared the runner up i immediately had to think of that fic you wrote where he tries to tickle monster his way through the top three because he misses isagi. imagine he does it with the top six but this time it's just for funsies, like he just walks around attacking them and observes their wildly different reactions

- i NEED chigiri's mom to join the mom squad i love them so much i need them to go on coffee dates and gossip about their sons i need them to put the boys into chic clothes and drag them to a classical concert and they're having the time of their lives while their sons sit there and all exchange glances like "we could be playing soccer rn" while also pretending not to know each other because they feel so stupid in their little suits and ties

- barou?? on the field?? BAROU ON THE FIELD???? *screeches*

- yukki and nagi expand on the games they play to pass time and rin pretends not to care but one night they play Who Am I and nagi does such an accurate impression of isagi that it makes rin laugh and he joins the game after that. they didn't plan on telling anyone but then yukki subconsciously imitates something karasu does at practice and it's so spot on that they get ratted out

- i'm just thinking about this because i had a tiktok on my fyp that had reo and chigiri edited to that "name a more iconic duo than a twink and a redhead" but these two are the gossip queens of blue lock they know everything about everyone

- ego is really growing on me, i didn't like him in s1 but he's lowkey hilarious so imagine it's his birthday while at blue lock and anri organizes a little surprise and when he walks in on her and the boys all yelling "happy birtday!! :D" he just looks over his shoulder like "to who :o" (don't tell me this man wouldn't forget his own birthday)

- they play kiss marry kill during breaks and bachira will say "kill everyone marry isagi" each time even when isagi is not an option

JKEKJRJKEJR REY YOU ARE SPOILING ME! :D

This got long so under the cut! :D

-HELP THAT IS SO FUNNY KJLRJLKEJREJJ Could I use this for a fic, I'll credit/tag you and everything: I just have so many thoughts on them and how'd they react akljrjkearjkeajkrjk Bachira's back on his bullshit and I love him so much KJLJKRLEJKLRJKLEJKRLE Like: Yuki with a soft giggly laugh vs Karasu's literal screams of the dead cause this man CANNOT- kjlarjkleajklrjkle

-YES!!! Her and the moms all together; the idea of them all dressed up and attending some sort of concert like you said ajkraejklrjklaejklr They're all dressed up and Isagi's got his hair combed back all nice and beyond over it- Bachira's chewing on his tie at some point and Chigiri's the only one low-key vibing (he fell asleep halfway through the concert and only woke up at the huge gong smack) They take selfies at the start doing the "had to do it to them" pose too ajkreakrkejjrkaejkrjke

-KLJREHJKLRJKEJKLREJKLRJKEJ AHHHH *screeches so hard I explode* THE JOKER!!! When he missed that shot I was so mad- kjarjkekjrejkrjke

-HELP KJERJKEJKRJKj Nagi hits him with a dead on "I'm gonna devour you, genius" and Rin inadvertently snorts giving himself away; the idea of him joining in is so cute akjrjkleajkrejkj Yuki accidentally giving them away when he mimics his arm pose or something and Karasu's just "OI!" Nagi and Rin try to play it off like "Yukki's just crazy" but they get snitched on by said man cause "I'm not going down alone!" kjarjkeajkrejkrjke

-HELP YES! They talk so much shit about everyone (But like- funny shit nothing genuinely mean if anything they talk more highly of their teammates) and gossip about everyone's relationships ("Rin's got it bad for Hiori." "Everyone's got it bad for Hiori"-) They run to one other like "Biiiiiitch" "Whaaat?" Whenever they got new tea.

-For real!!! I made so much fun of him when he first appeared but now lowkey he's kind of a vibe? His strangeness grew on me like fungus and I'm okay with that. :D HELP NOT HIM FORGETTING HIS BIRTHDAY EJKRKJLEJKREJKLRJKE "How old are you, Ego-Sensei?" "Too old." (What's the bet he forgot how old he is? Like the man has to literally check records of his time playing soccer and do all these complicated maths while Anri's staring at him with "Dude. You're 31.")

-KJLRJKEJKLRJKEJK HELP "Kiss Marry Kill-" "ISAGI MARRY! Kill everyone else :D" Cuts to Chigiri being all "Rude D:<" and Isagi a blushing mess while Reo's trying to gently explain that Isagi wasn't even an option. Shidou at some point joins in but makes everything lewd and gross so he's kicked out.

Now to add some of my own! :D

-I know Oliver said that bag was his ex-girlfriends but I beg the question of how exactly did it end up in Sae's things? Conspiracy theory: Sae IS a drag queen and works nights when he isn't playing but does it so well no one knows it's him. (Either that or Oliver planted it in his bag to throw everyone off whichever one's funnier.)

-Gonna be so real I was low-key hoping they'd find a picture of baby Rin in Sae's back or something to show he cared- it's such a long shot but I love the idea of Sae's wallpaper or lock screen being them as babies and no one really knows about it cause Sae never brings his phone out- not even Rin would know about it it's that well hidden.

UGH this season makes me so happy! It's gonna be so good how it ends- I think? I have no idea but I'm HYPED! :D Thank you for all the thoughts! my inbox is always open to you for any more you think of, and I'll be sure to share with you my own! :D

#squiggily speaks #ask #myreygn #hey it's Rey! :D #anime talks #blue lock talks #screaming about blue lock #spoilers #blue lock spoilers #blue lock season 2 spoilers #I'm dying I love them so much!

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yellow-pikmin-with-adhd · 2 months ago

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let me expand on the idea now that I have time. So, Gadget the Werewolf and Infinite the Jackal-Vampire. Gadget wants to move to a different city/town, maybe due to some freak accident or people are straight hating because he's a Werewolf, so when he's trying to find a good town to settle in and he eventually stumbles on "Sunset Heights" which has a curfew "due to Vampire attacks," so Gadget decides to move there because the only people that could be outside after nightfall are immortal things he physically can't kill! Its perfect! (Gadget isn't "pure of heart" like Sonic so it stands to reason he may not be as tame) Meanwhile in Sunset Heights the Jackal Squad are trying to be all imposing (the only one that can pull it off is Infinite) they say stuff like "we run this town" (in reality they're the local punk gang, graffiti included, half the towns people think they're innocent misguided kids, and to be fair two of them are kids but still (think the movie Lost Boys but the Vampires aren't actually evil or anything, they're just trying to survive)) Shadow doesn't kill his family here. So eventually Gadget finally starts going outside at night and eventually runs into the Jackal squad or maybe just one of the youngest members and befriends them, Infinite doesn't like this (he thinks the Werewolf is a threat to his family) and starts genuinely trying to kill Gadget, Infinite gets his ass beat (maybe really bad, I'm talking the only reason he lived is because you need sunlight or holy objects to kill him (or a peice of wood)) Gadget feels really bad even if the reason he came here was this exact reason (if he lost control the victim wouldn't die because: immortal Vampire) Gadget, in all his kind heartedness takes the mutilated Jackal-Vampire to his home (he literally invites a Vampire into his home) he is a lovable idiot and Infinite realizes this, the Jackal begins to grow a crush on the Wolf during his recovery. Slowly Gadget shows more and more trust to Infinite (EX: let's him drink a lil blood in his Werewolf form) eventually Infinite heals from what would have been certain death for a normal Mobian and reunites with the Jackal Squad, Gadget becomes an honorary member and sets them on a better path, to the point the towns people are comfortable being alone outside at midnight. Maybe the youngest in the Jackal squad start getting taught by not only Gadget (cuz nerd) but also some teachers who volunteered to help, basically the squad becomes a part of the community (though the awake hours don't always line up for the town and the squad) and that's about all I could think about... I feel like I'm under using the fact Gadget is a Werewolf. If someone could write something like this (but better) I'm in your debt. I made a tag for this AU as well, it's (Rival Myths AU) Also before I forget, this was inspired by a post that had a Werebeast Infinite and a normal Gadget, I was like: But Gadget could be a literal WereWOLF? So credits to that person.

#infidget #infinite the jackal #gadget the wolf #infinite x gadget #Rival Myths AU

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illarian-rambling · 5 months ago

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Thanks for the tag @mysticstarlightduck!

OC Deep Dive 🦾🎀

Let's do a two for one with Astra and Mashal :)

What uncommon/common fear do they have?

Hm, that's a tough one. Astra doesn't scare easily when it comes to physical things. I'd say failure is a big fear of hers, or letting down the people she loves.

It's bugs. Ignoring all the existential stuff, Mashal is terrified of bugs. Spiders especially, but anything that crawls makes him uncomfortable. The other big one is losing his humanity.

Do they have any pet peeves?

People who talk down to her will set Astra off like a firecracker. She's had more than enough of that in her time. People who are willing ignorant also piss her off, especially if that ignorance hurts others.

As a former army brat, Mashal does get a little tetchy around messy spaces. He won't get on people about it, but he will clean up unprompted. He also can't stand bullies or anyone who hurts people for their own gain.

What are 3 items you can find in their bedroom?

A full chemistry set, lots of scrap fabric, and way too many fancy pillows.

He doesn't sleep, so he doesn't have a bedroom, but if he did, it would have a sketchbook, some candles he can stare at while meditating, and a few practice swords hung on the wall.

What do they notice first in a person?

Their clothes, I'd say. Astra can tell a lot about a person by what they wear and how they care for their garments. Also, their sense of fashion can be telling.

I think as an artist, Mashal picks up on unique features first. A crooked jaw, especially beautiful eyes, an unusual expression - anything that makes someone stand out. Consequently, he's also just good at remembering faces in general.

On a scale of 1 to 10, how high is their pain tolerance?

A six, but she thinks it's a nine. She also carries the fantasy equivalent of those berserker mushrooms at all times, so if she's hurt, she'll do drugs about it and keep going.

He has no sense of pain as a robot, but if he's ever returned to his human form, it's gonna be a rude awakening the first time he stubs his toe on something.

Do they go into fight or flight mode when under pressure? (I'm also including freeze and fawn)

It kinda depends. If her friends are with her, she'll tend towards fight. If she's alone though, she often freezes up.

Fight, all the way. In moments of stress, Mashal's brain will all but shut off as he starts swinging.

Do they come from a big family/are they a family person?

Astra's family is just her and her two moms, but she loves them dearly. Every cent she makes goes towards paying off their debtor contracts, and she writes them frequently.

Mashal doesn't remember his family. He assumes his parents are alive and he's pretty sure he has an older brother, but anything more than that is a mystery. He hopes to find them someday once he's human again.

What animal represents them best?

I'm tempted to go with a black cat solely because she's a witch, but I feel like she's more high energy than that. In that case, maybe some sort of monkey? Clever, curious, loud, and a little vicious.

A horse, I think. Some sort of retired warhorse that likes to run and nuzzle your hair, but will kick if you get too close.

What is a smell that they dislike?

Formaldehyde. It gives her headaches.

He has no sense of smell :(

Have they broken any bones?

Yup. She broke her arm at the end of book one and has broken a few fingers in the past when she wasn't careful enough with her tinkering.

He has no bones :(

(Mashal doesn't remember, but as a boy, he did fracture his skull when he fell down a flight of stairs. He also broke the same ankle twice during sparring. His squad did tease him for this.)

How would a stranger likely describe them?

"Oh gods, what an outfit she had! I don't think I've ever seen that many colors on one garment, and she must've sewn half the ribbons from here to Yewbury into the lining. The embroidery was fantastic. It was loud enough you hardly noticed the woman wearing it. She was pretty short, I think. I wanna say she was mixed Skolander and Shuari, given the dark curls and blue eyes. Her skin was kind of an amber brown, but she had these pale splotches under her eyes and mouth. Vitiligo, I think? Her makeup was also quite loud, but somehow matched the outfit. There was just a lot going on there, in general."

"Damn, I don't think I've ever seen a robot in these parts. The fucker was huge, had to be close to seven feet tall. Kinda scary looking, to be honest, with those glowing white eyes. But, I don't know, he seemed nice. His face didn't seem like it moved much, but he looked like he was smiling. He was wearing very heavy clothing with a bandana over his head. The only bronze uncovered was his face and hands. I would've thought he was sick in the head wearing such heavy clothes in this heat, except, well, I guess a robot wouldn't care about that."

Are they a night owl or an early bird?

Very much a night owl, verging on actual insomnia. Getting up before 11 is a herculean trial.

He doesn't sleep, but if he did, he'd be an early bird. Man is ready for bed at 9:30 sharp.

What is a flavour they hate and a flavour they love?

Astra hates the taste of rice. As a kid, that was basically all she had to eat in the summers and she would frequently come down with pellagra because she was so malnourished. A flavor she loves is barbecue. She's from the fantasy south, so I think this one is self-explanatory.

He has no sense of taste, but from vibes alone, he knows he definitely has a sweet tooth.

Do they have any hobbies?

Really, she's good with any type of fiber art, but Astra loves to embroider. All her clothes sport little bits of embroidery. I'm also going to say magic because she loves it even though it's her job.

Mashal enjoys art, usually with a pencil, but he branches out into paint sometimes. He also likes to read. Any genre is fine, so long as it's fiction and not too dark. I feel like he'd love anime if it existed on Illaros for some reason.

Boom, surprise birthday party! How do they react to surprises?

She'd definitely jump, then complain about why it had to be a secret because she already knew what she wanted to do for her birthday. Even so, she would be very appreciative of the effort.

Mashal has no idea when his birthday is, so it'd be a double surprise for him if someone popped out and declared that today's the day. After making sure they're not just fucking with him, he'd get quite teary (not actually, but the vibe is there), thank them profusely, and spend the rest of the night being told to sit down and quit trying to take care of things, this is your party, damnit!

Do they like to wear jewelry?

Yes. Astra always has some earrings on and frequently wears rings and bracelets. Most of this is costume jewelry.

Gold jewelry is very important in Sulu'Okan culture, so he definitely would, he just can't afford any right now.

Do they have neat or messy handwriting?

Surprisingly neat. She writes in full, founding father cursive.

Surprisingly messy. He tends towards chicken scratch.

What are the two emotions they feel the most?

Indignation and the desire to help.

Protectiveness and fury.

Do they have a favourite fabric?

Astra could rank every fabric ever on a numbered scale, but I think her all-time favorite is satin.

He honestly has no opinion on this, so he'd probably just say satin also. My man doesn't know burlap from chiffon, give him a break.

What kind of accent do they have?

Lol, read any of her dialog and it's obvious. Astra has a strong southern accent, more similar to a Georgia drawl than some Texas twang.

Honestly, Mashal is my one character that I feel has no accent (aka same accent as me), so I guess upper south. He does speak very softly, though, and has a bit of a stutter at times. His voice also tends to go static when he yells.

I'll tag @willtheweaver @theink-stainedfolk @kaylinalexanderbooks @nczaversnick @watermeezer and anyone else who wants to play :)

#writing #writerscommunity #writblr #my ocs #oc deep dive

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stormikins · 11 months ago

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Mass Effect Trilogy Tag

tagged by @nowandthane thank you!! Warning I ramble a bit in this lol

I am a fan since: 2017, I got it for Christmas in 2016 so I always just say '17

Favorite Game of the series: By virtue of simply replaying it the most, three. I really love the combat in it so I've played it near thirty times? But all time fave would have to 1 because of the aesthetic, tone, and story. There's something about first discovering a world which is what me1 is about.

MShep or Femshep? Gotta go with Femshep. I have played both, its just hard to capture the male shepard image I have in my head in the character creator so Femshep it is.

Earthborn, Colonist, or Spacer: earthborn! My main Shepard Jenn is earthborn so that's what I'm going with. Though, I have numerous Shepard's are various background combinations. I have feelings about each background trust me

Biotics or tech: Both! Though I really do love biotics, you can do some cool stuff with them, setting up and detonating both biotic and tech explosions.

Paragon or Renegade: I have to repeat what nowandthane said, paragon choices, renegade dialogue.

Favorite Class: Sentinel. I love the versatility of the class, but I do have an affection for Infiltrator because that's what got me through me2 on insanity.

Favorite Companion: Tali. By story value, Javik. He's like one of the most important characters

Least Favorite Companion: Javik, throw your attitude out the airlock. IM JOKING! (he has every reason to be like he is. I love him very much) Liara is my answer though only because I don't like some of the story choices the devs did with her. (ex: why does she have Shepard's armor in a display case when i didn't even romance her??? I can't mention this at all??)

My squad selection: For Jenn's playthrough: Wrex/Tali in me1. Garrus/Mordin/Miranda generally in me2. Thane and Miranda/Samara for the collector base. Kaidan/Javik/James in me3. Of course, I mix it up based on story aspects and the difficulty settings. But me3 is pretty fixed bc I always play on insanity.

Favorite in-game Romance: Tali and Garrus. I'm a sucker for awkward, wet cat of a man like Garrus is. But Tali's romance man.... her parting line to Shepard during the beam run "I have a home" makes me insane actually

Other pairings I like: Obligatory Nihlus/Shepard/Kal (and the duos within in this throuple) mention here. Other than that, Joker/Miranda and Joker/James, Ashley/Garrus, and Shepard/Wrex, I could list a whole lot so I'll keep it to those ships lol

Favorite NPC: Nihlus and Kal'Reegar for sure. Victus and of course Niftu Cal our favorite biotic god.

Favorite Antagonist: Saren. He's the best one that we get in all three games (Harby could have been number one if they did anything with him in three but that's a rant for another time lmao)

Favorite Mission: Haestrom/Tali's Loyalty mission because that's when I get to see Kal <3 and blow up a colossus with the Cain. Also, the Collector Ship mission I have to mention because it's frankly the only mission besides the two previously stated where I've loaded up the save to play it on insanity when I'm bored. It's fun. Of course, this is with the Infiltrator.

Favorite Loyalty Mission: Tali for numerous reasons. Kal mention here. But I love the insight into Quarian culture we get. Also we see that fire in her when she's talking to the Board which I always appreciate. Along with her dialogue at the end, "I got better, Shepard. I got you." and then on the ship afterwards, "I don't think life is about what we deserve." I love her so much.

Favorite DLC: Leviathan. Only because of the horror aspect.

Control, Sythesis, or Destroy? Destroy. I have so many issues with the ending and that's the least worst option in my opinion so. (I too ignore that it wipes out the Geth and Edi fuck that)

Favorite Weapon: The M-90 Cain or the M-99 Saber aka the "Big Iron". Lancer in three was my favorite weapon before I found the Saber. Special mention to my bud the Mattock, I have been convinced of its glory. I do not think the Harrier is better anymore lol which my brother would be happy to hear

Favorite Place: me1 Citadel my BELOVED.

A quote I like Quotes I Like: The ENTIRETY of Sovereign's dialogue on Virmire GOD ITS SO GOOD!!!! / "Stand in the ashes of a trillion dead souls and ask the ghosts if honor matters. The silence is your answer." / "Does this unit have a soul?" / "Just followed your example, Shepard. Yell loud enough and eventually someone will come over to see what all the fuss is about." / "I won't let fear compromise who I am." / "I MADE A MISTAKE!" / "Help me out here, Shepard. The line between friend and foe is getting a little blurry from where I stand." / There are so many great quotes in these games I could go on and on but I'll stop myself

No pressure tags: @spacebunshep @jtownnn

#mass effect #tag games #brb gonna go play the game now

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ffdemon · 5 months ago

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Celebration of soul

Rating: General Audiences

Relationship: Crosshair & CT-21-0408 | CT-1409 | Echo & Hunter & Omega & Tech & Wrecker (Star Wars: The Bad Batch)

Additional Tags: Wakes & Funerals, Grief/Mourning Hurt/Comfort, A lot of background characters - Freeform, vague Phee/Tech, Tech don't appear but he a main character, Finding their place,Team as Family, Tears, No Beta,Light Angst

Summary: They have pushed this back for too long. Now none of them have any pretext not to do it any longer

Celebration of soul

It’s time to offer Tech a proper memorial.

Notes: Over the weekend, I have to say goodbye to my cousin. This fic come to be as I was dealing with a lot of emotions. Hope I didn't made anyone OOC. I apologize for my mistakes. English is my second language.

They have pushed this back for too long. Now none of them have any pretext not to do it any longer. They all recover from the even of Tantiss and Echo had returned from Pantora after helping their clones’ brother and Emerie settle.

It’s time to offer Tech a proper memorial.

It had been hard to decide what to do. Clones don’t actually have a funeral rite. Most will honor there fallen brothers with significant symbols or change to their armor since they don’t have the chance to provide them real burial. Even if Jango Fett has mandolorian, the batch don’t feel comfortable to use their traditions.

Lucky Shep hear about their dilemmas and bring them a solution. Pabu is a haven for so many refugees with different cultures, they could explore some and find what is right for them. During one night, the whole squad sit around their little home on Pabu, going through all the files they manage to salvage from the Marauder wreckage, his datapad and the camera on his googles. A lot of laughs, memories and heavy hearts where share that night since it wasn’t a small task Tech always been fascinated by everything. There was so much he wanted to study in detail some plants, animals and culture when the war end.

Sadly, that opportunity would never come.

“Why not bring some of those to him?” Omega comments haft asleep as she leans against Hunter. The four men exchange a look knowing it was feeling right. That how the memorial garden project start.

Echo, Phee, Deke and Stak have gone off world to assemble a few plants, after making sure none were invading for Pabu’s fauna, recording a few more creatures Tech couldn’t get and try to recover more stories to add to his collection. The ARC trooper has worked hard to save everything Tech has compiled during life on datadiscs, making one copy to store into the Archium since it’s a real treasure of knowledge. He makes some more personal one for each of his brothers.

Hunter and Omega, with Batcher enthusiasm assistance, had looked over the whole island to locate the perfect place for a garden. Finally, they discover a beautiful spot in Pabu Cove, hidden in the back of the cavern, there is a luxuriant cenote where they could put some plants and still be protected. Lyana, Jax, Eva and Bayrn join them to help to prepare the garden. How the children laugh echoing on the rocky wall assure Hunter they choose the right emplacement. The younger girl asking a lot of questions about Tech only hear stories from Omega. For the first time he had lost his brother, Hunter finds himself able to talk with fondness of Tech and not only guilty.

During that time, Crosshair and Wrecker work on a cenotaph to add to the garden. Initially it’s only Wrecker with some help of Mok and Sami, Crosshair only wander around the place. Without his dominant hand he didn’t want to risk making mistakes or mess up something. Wrecker manages to coax Crosshair of assisting with the paints and the caving. Both clones ending teaching their little helper how to use different tools. Like how Tech have taught them a lot in their life.

Nearly a month after the beginning of their project did the celebration of soul finally happen.

The memorial takes off a sunrise.

Food, music, dance and abundant color. As much Tech never been the most comfortable in social interaction, seem he have let his mark on a lot of people on Pabu. An hour before sunset, Wrecker unveil the maker they have built. Made from scrap pieces of the Marauder there was a replica of the ship front part as the back is a sculpture of Starbird made from wood from many planets they have visited in their career. It’s the perfect tribune to Tech love for flying, the mystery of life and the fact he will always exist in their heart. Embedded on the top there was a holoprojector showing the few pictures of Tech. As the sun goes down, the guess slowly leaves to allow the close family to have their private time. Phee is last to the memorial and take a moment to quietly talk to it. When she is done, she wraps a flower crown around the bird neck.

“See you in another life Brown Eyes. I won’t let you take off without a goodbye.” She says before turning around. Wrecker advance to hug her. The pirate accepts as she tries to hide her tears.

“You’re welcome to stay.” Hunter offers.

“That sweet of you … but that your time.” She answers before leaving.

For a long moment, no one move. They all agree to do this, yet now it seems to make entirely too real. Finally, Omega step away from Hunter’s side and walk to the cenotaph. Her fingers rest at the edge of the holoprojector looking at the pictures.

“Hey Tech. I want you to know that Crosshair his home. We finish the mission. We’re safe, thank to you and everything you taught me… Taught us.”

Her voice breaks as she lays her head on the metal part of the monument and sob.

“I miss you so much Tech. You show me so much regarding ships, about staying strong and I’m going to keen flying. Keep pushing forward, just like you. I carry your lessons with me each day. I love you Tech. Always.” Echo walk beside their sister and wraps her in a hug letting her cry as much as she needs.

“Every time you reach the sky, he will be at your side.” He promises softly as he pushes a blond lock back from her face. Omega smiles weakly and lean against the ARC trooper. Echo keep her close and look at the memorial.

“You were more than a comrade, the mind of our unit that turned the impossible into the achievable. Your courage and brilliance have always been our guiding light, and now, that light will continue to shine even in your absence.

Your legacy is not just in the battle we won or the plan you engineered, but in the way you made use all better. You taught me to accept and see the positive side of my difference and modification. I will miss your view of life, your snarky and dry humor.

We will carry your spirit with us into every mission, every challenge and every day. Rest well Tech. We’ve got this. For you, and for all who came before and after us, we will continue.”

Echo straight up and raises his scomp to offer a heartfelt salute.

The moment is broken but an ironic snicker.

“You can count on the Reg to make everything so dramatic.” Crosshair snarls as he walks closer and glaring at the holo. No one comment on how glassy his eyes are.

“You and your brilliant brain, always thinking you were one step ahead. Yet you missed the biggest equation of all, didn’t you? The one where you end up dead! I’m left here. Trying to figure out how to move on without … my brother.” His tone begins with his normal snarky but rapidly grow shakier. “Last time we meet…. I said some things. Typical me, right? Always had to get the last word. And now I can’t take any of it back…”

“Tech never was angry at you Cross.” Wrecker announces as he wraps one of his arms around the sniper’s shoulders. “He knows your nature, but he never abandoned the idea of getting you back home. Now, you are.” Crosshair only produces a wounded sound turning his head away, hiding his face in his giant brother’s neck. Wrecker hug him a bit closer and decide to talk to Tech.

“I gotta say it. I miss you. You always have all those fancy words and big plans that I didn’t always get, yet you have the patient to explain to me. We always been different and yet we were the best team. It’s weird not having you around, you know? They’re such a big hole. But don’t worry, I’ll watch over the others. I’ll make sure stick together. I love you, brother.”

He is opening crying by the end. Crosshair tries to look annoyed yet he is hugging Wrecker back. Omega whimpers and runs to them.

Echo glances back at Hunter. The leader seems frozen. After all those months, Hunter has to face the loss of his brother. The ARC knows the feeling, he is still dealing with Fives’ death. He moves and rests his hand on Hunter’s arm and squeezed softly.

“You don’t have to speak.” He mutters.

Hunter shakes his head.

“I need too…. I… I don’t even know where to start. As a leader, I’m supposed to have the right words. Now I’m just a brother and I miss you more than I can say. You were always there with the answers, the logic and the calm in the chaos. As much you were the chaos itself. I should’ve found a way to save you, and I’m so sorry. I couldn’t. It’s hard without you here, but we’ll keep going because that’s what you wouldn’t want. You weren’t only the brain, Tech, you are our heart and our brother.”

As he talks, he walks to the cenotaph, falling to his knee and pressing his forehead against it. A lone silent tear rolling on the tattoo side of his face.

One by one, other members of the batch join Hunter in one giant group hugs. Even if Tech’s presence will always leave a hole, now they feel as a whole family for the first time since Eriadu.

Clones never have their spot in the galaxy except Kamino. But without brothers there, it was just another prison. Pabu was there first place they finally have roots.

Crosshair have been right. Clone Force 99 die with Tech, but the bad batcher would learn to live a new existence because of him.

#my writing #tbb hunter #tbb crosshair #tbb echo #tbb wrecker #tbb omega #tbb tech #the bad batch #star wars tbb #please read the tags #Fanfiction to deal with my emotions

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